Produced by Annie R. McGuire. This book was produced from scanned images of public domain material from the Internet Archive.
[Illustration: "ALL ABOARD FOR SLEEP," SAID JIMMIEBOY.]
BY JOHN KENDRICK BANGS, AUTHOR OF _"Tiddledywink Tales," "In Camp with a Tin Soldier," "Tiddledywink Poetry Book," etc._
ILLUSTRATED BY FRANK VERBECK, CHARLES HOWARD JOHNSON, J. T. RICHARDS, P. NEWELL, AND OTHERS.
NEW YORK: R. H. RUSSELL & SON, MDCCCXCIII.
Thanks are due to Messrs. Harper & Bros. for the privilege of re-printing several of the stories in this book.
1. CHRISTMAS EVE AT JIMMIEBOY'S 11 2. THE DWARF AND THE DUDE GIANT 24 3. JIMMIEBOY'S DREAM POETRY 35 4. A SUBTERRANEAN MUTINY 48 5. JIMMIEBOY IN THE LIBRARY 60 6. JIMMIEBOY'S SNOWMAN 72 7. THE BICYCLOPÆDIA BIRD 85 8. GIANT THE JACK KILLER 100 9. JIMMIEBOY AND THE FIREWORKS 109 10. JIMMIEBOY'S PHOTOGRAPH 124 11. JIMMIEBOY AND THE BLANK-BOOK 132 12. JIMMIEBOY AND THE COMET 146 13. JIMMIEBOY AND JACK FROST 156 14. JIMMIEBOY AND THE GAS-STOVE 168 15. IN THE HEART OF FROSTLAND 183 16. THE END OF THE STORY 201
It had been a long and trying day to Jimmieboy, as December 24th usually is to children of his age, who have great expectations, and are more or less impatient to have them fulfilled. He had been positively cross at supper-time because his father had said that Santa Claus had written to say that a much-desired velocipede could not be got down through the chimney, and that he thought Jimmieboy would have to wait until the chimneys had been enlarged, or his papa had built a new house with more commodious flues.
"I think it's just too bad," said Jimmieboy, as he climbed into bed an hour later. "Just because those chimneys are small, I can't have a philocipede, and I've been gooder than ever for two weeks, just to get it."
Then, as his nurse extinguished the lamp and went into the adjoining room to sew, Jimmieboy threw himself back upon his pillow and shed a tear. The tear crept slowly down over his cheek, and was about to disappear between his lips and go back again to where it had started from, when a voice was heard over by the fire-place.
Jimmieboy sat up and peered over toward the spot whence the voice came, but could see nothing.
"No. The hind wheels won't go through the chimney-pot, and even if they would, it wouldn't do any good. The front wheel is twice as big as the hind ones," said another voice, this one apparently belonging to some one on the roof. "Can't you get it in through the front door?"