Little Philippe of Belgium Page 2

  Philippe had a sweet voice and sang a number of Belgian folk songs. Hewas beginning to teach his Rose a little vegetable song which he hadmade up.

  He had a fine plan. He wanted to station Rose in the market place, andhave her sing for the passers-by. How proud the little fellow was of hisbaby sister!

  Today as he walked along beside the sturdy dogs, he sang gayly. He washappier than usual. Today an exciting thing was to happen. Papa Pommehad told him that he would call at the market place and take him tolunch. Papa Pomme did not often do this. But today he was given theafternoon to himself.

  Papa had put his finger to his lips and said mysteriously to Philippe,"You shall dine with me, little one; and then, in the afternoon--ah, youshall see!"

  "AH, YOU SHALL SEE"]

  So as Philippe walked along, he wondered what surprise his father hadplanned for the afternoon. When he reached the market place, or GrandePlace (=graen plaes=), as it is called in French, he helped Emile Spinachunload the vegetables. Many other farmers were arranging their wares.Some sold beautiful flowers, and others sold fruits. There were portionsof the square set aside for sellers of birds and dogs and all manner ofdifferent articles.

  The Grande Place in Brussels is one of the most beautiful places of itskind in the world. There stands the city hall, built half a centurybefore America was discovered. There are many other beautiful, gildedbuildings. The Grande Place in Brussels shines in the splendor of pastglory.

  SOME SOLD BEAUTIFUL FLOWERS]

  Here sat the little boy, Philippe, and helped sell his mother'svegetables. He often glanced at the clock and hoped his father would notbe late. He wanted to know what Papa Pomme was planning for theafternoon.

  Papa Pomme was on time. He took his son by the hand. They made their wayto a restaurant, where little tables were placed out on the sidewalk.

  Here people sat in leisurely style, eating hearty dinners. Thejolly-faced chef and his little son settled themselves at a cornertable. The menu before them was indeed tempting.

  Although Philippe was anxious to know his father's surprise, he couldnot allow it to stand in the way of his appetite. How could any boy dothat?

  Belgian food is tempting to everyone. It is as dainty as the Frenchfood. It is as wholesome as the Dutch. And it has something about itthat is neither French nor Dutch, but purely Belgian.

  Perhaps the reason lies in the fact that Belgium is so small. It is amatter of only a few hours for vegetables and fruits to travel from adistant farm to a Brussels table. Therefore, all food is fresh.

  Papa Pomme ordered "potage," the famous thick soup, dear to all theFrench and Belgians. Then they had a roast, and for dessert,strawberries and a huge plate of gingerbread. Belgian strawberries andgingerbread are very famous and are said to be the best in the world.

  While they ate, they did not talk. Eating was a serious matter with PapaPomme and Philippe.

  So absorbed did Philippe become that he forgot his manners. He reachedacross the table and pulled toward him the long loaf of French bread.

  "Ho, ho!" cried Papa Pomme. "Not so fast! Come! Do you not use yourtongue when you want something which is beyond your reach?"

  Philippe blushed. Then he replied stoutly, "Yes, Papa Pomme; but my armis much longer than my tongue!"

  Papa Pomme laughed and gained another pound. Philippe went on eatinghappily.

  When they left the restaurant they walked down the street together.

  "Papa Pomme, where are you taking me?" asked Philippe, puzzled.

  For Papa Pomme was acting in a very mysterious way.

  "Do not ask yet!" he said. "Soon you shall see."

  Soon Philippe did see. For they stopped in front of a big theater. InEurope a motion picture theater is called a cinema.

  "Now, little Philippe," laughed Papa Pomme, "you know my surprise!"

  Philippe threw his cap in the air and shouted, "Hooray! The cinema!"

  It was a special treat to the little boy to be taken to the cinema! Hehad been to one only once before in his life.

  GRANDE PLACE, BRUSSELS]

  They were to see a great film today. It was the story of the World Warand the part that little Belgium had played. It showed how the enemyhad started to march through Belgium in order to reach Paris. It showedhow the loyal Belgians and their brave King Albert had helped the Alliesto win their victory by stopping that march.

  Long ago a treaty had been made which said that no nation should take anarmy through Belgium to attack another nation. If ever such a thinghappened, it was Belgium's duty to stop them. In the year 1914, an enemydid try to go through her land. Belgium might have neglected her duty.She might have remained quiet and allowed the enemy to pass. Had shedone this, she would never have been destroyed as she was. The enemywould have marched quietly through and left Belgium to its peacefullife.

  The film showed how the Belgians fought. Still Belgium could not holdout against so powerful an enemy. At last she was conquered. But whenthat time came, the French were ready, and so were the English. So Pariswas saved.

  The audience shouted and clapped. But after that came sighs. The filmshowed how pitiful and sad was this poor little Belgium after the war.

  That film left in the heart of Philippe a new dream. It was that filmwhich was really the cause of the little boy's later adventures.

  Chapter III

  A NEIGHBOR

  Five years passed. Philippe was now a tall boy of eleven. He was stillcalled Sprout, and he was still full of wishing dreams and dreamingwishes.

  But those dreams and wishes had changed since the time when he hadlonged for a baby sister. Of course, he never stopped being glad aboutRose. She was the dearest little sister that a boy could have.

  LITTLE ROSE]

  Philippe's desire to be a cook had disappeared. He had changed sincethat day when Papa Pomme had taken him to the cinema. For Philippe neverforgot the film he had seen.

  Philippe never forgot those terrible battle scenes. Often his eyeswould fill with tears at the thought of the sad struggle and the braveryof his little country.

  The boy who had once dreamed of vegetables now had other dreams. Thelittle boy, who had wanted some day to be a chef, now longed to become agreat hero like his own country's king. He longed to do a great deedhimself and to have adventures. But all he could do was to sellvegetables.

  No, that was not all. Now he could read about his country. And he did.Philippe read and read. Every book he could find he devoured. Stories ofBelgium's cities and people Philippe learned and loved. Tales of wonderkept him interested for hours.

  PHILIPPE READ AND READ]

  "If only I might travel and have adventures!" sighed the littlevegetable boy.

  He was now old enough to drive the dog-cart to market alone. He wenteach day, with Baby Rose perched on top of the vegetables, laughing andgurgling with joy.

  All the way to town Philippe sang with his little sister. When theyreached the Grande Place, he set the baby upon the counter. Then thelittle girl, with her golden curls and her sunny smile, and the tall,handsome boy, with his wavy hair and his dreamy eyes, sang and attractedmany people to the booth. It did not take them long to sell theirvegetables.

  Now as Philippe unloaded his produce, he did not know that todaysomething unusual was going to happen. Rose fluttered about and filledthe dogs' drinking bowl. All dog-carts in Belgium carry drinking bowls,and a bit of carpet for the animals to lie down upon. Rose filled thebowl, and the huge beasts licked her hands with gratitude.

  There was a new member of the dog family who had come to town with themtoday. It was Trompke (=tromp'-ky=). Trompke was a puppy. He did notwork. He was Philippe's own puppy.

  "Trompke" means "tambourine" in Brussels French. The puppy was thusnamed because he had such a fat little round tummy.

  TROMPKE]

  Trompke loved Philippe. Today was the first time he had been allowed tofollow the cart to town. He was wild with excitement.

  "Stop barking, Trompke!
" commanded Philippe, as he arranged thevegetables on the stand.

  "Lie down, Tum-Tum," cried Baby Rose.

  And Trompke lay at the baby's feet.

  Just then Philippe noticed some one in the booth next to their own. Atall man was moving about arranging vegetables. This booth had not beenused for a very long time.

  "Now," thought Philippe, "we shall have a neighbor."

  Philippe smiled at the man, who was staring at the two children. Thenthe man looked down at the puppy, which was whining unhappily atPhilippe's feet.

  "Keep him quiet," said the man angrily.

  Philippe answered, "He means no harm. He is only excited. It's his firsttrip to town."

  The man did not answer but turned toward his vegetables. Philippe waspuzzled. He had never before met anyone like his neighbor.

  The man wore ragged clothes, and his face was sunburned. His eyes werecoal black and seemed to flash fire. He had a wild look about him. Hewas tall and moved like a cat.

  Suddenly he leaned over toward Philippe.

  "Keep that dog quiet, will you?" he snarled.

  Trompke was still whining softly, though he could hardly be heard.

  "He does no harm," answered Philippe.

  The man's flashing eyes gleamed as he replied, "He keeps the peopleaway. Nobody has come to buy at the booths yet. It is the fault of thatdog."

  "LIE DOWN, TUM-TUM!"]

  Philippe could only smile at such stupidity. To think that a littlewhining dog could keep people away! But the man seemed nervous.

  So Philippe said, "Just wait, sir. I will have the crowds here in ashort time. Come, Rose; let us sing!"

  Little Rose stood upon the counter. She looked like a big doll. Hergolden curls shone in the sunlight. Philippe stood by her side, andtogether they sang in voices clear and sweet. They sang the littlenonsense song that Philippe had made up for his sister. It ran:

  "I wouldn't be an artichoke, And have my heart torn out, I wouldn't be a lettuce, With my head thrown all about, I'd hate to be a cornstalk, For folk my ears would pull; Potatoes must feel dreadful 'Cause with dirt their eyes are full."

  A few people began to wander over to the vegetable booth. They stoodand watched the two children. They smiled at the quaint little vegetableboy, and looked admiringly at the pretty baby. Then the children begantheir second stanza, as more and more people gathered around the booth.

  "It must be hard for spinach, too; His leaves are never read; Poor mushroom, with the fairy folk All sitting on his head! Old Mr. Onion grieves so much. He makes us all boohoo! I'm glad I'm not a vegetable, But just a child. Aren't you?"

  Many people had now crowded round and some began to buy vegetables.Philippe was kept busy serving them. Baby Rose smiled and dimpled ateveryone. She sang other songs that Philippe had made up. Then she sang"The Brabanconne" (=bra-baen-son'=), Belgium's national anthem.

  The vegetables were slowly disappearing. But from the booth next door,not a vegetable was bought. Philippe cast a look in the direction of thetall dark man, who was standing with his arms folded.

  Philippe looked down at the man's vegetables. For the first time henoticed that they were not fresh. They were wilted and stale.

  "It is no wonder the people do not buy," thought Philippe.

  But he felt sorry, nevertheless. When the crowd had left, and theselling was over, he turned to the man.

  "I am sorry," he said. "But----"

  Philippe was going to tell him that people will not buy stalevegetables. But the man interrupted him.

  "Thank you, but I do not need your advice," he said.

  "THANK YOU, BUT I DO NOT NEED YOUR ADVICE," HE SAID]

  Philippe watched him as he began to throw his vegetables into a barreland prepare to leave. He whistled as he did so.

  Philippe lifted Rose from the counter and they, too, made preparationsfor departure.

  All the way home, the boy seemed to see before him that stranger's face.

  When the children reached home, a surprise awaited them.

  "Papa Pomme is home! Hurrah!" cried Philippe.

  Sometimes Papa Pomme came home to dinner, and that was a great treat.But this evening Papa Pomme looked grave. He began to talk with MotherYvelle. Philippe listened.

  "They say that this thief has stolen from several farms about here,"said Papa Pomme. "You had better warn Emile to watch."

  "A thief, Papa?" asked Philippe, whose eyes were very big.

  "Yes, my boy," Papa Pomme replied. "A man who goes about at nightstealing vegetables from people's farms--a vegetable thief. I wish theycould catch him. It is very hard for the poor farmers to have theirproduce stolen. This thief is a wicked man."

  Philippe suddenly thought of his dark neighbor in the market place.Could it be----? Oh, no.

  Still there were those stale vegetables. But Philippe refused to thinkof such a thing.

  "Papa," he asked, "if this thief is caught, what will they do with him?"

  "They will put him in prison, my son," answered Papa Pomme.

  Chapter IV

  ZELIE

  Philippe did not know how nearly right he had been. He had wonderedwhether his neighbor in the market place could be the thief.

  But Philippe did not like to think evil of people, so he drove away thatthought. But the tall dark man was really the vegetable thief.

  Next day when Philippe arrived at the Grande Place, he looked for hisneighbor. Yes, there was the man with another load of stale vegetables.He was piling them upon his counter.

  Today Philippe noticed that there was a little girl with him. She washelping him spread out the wilted vegetables. Philippe did not knowthat during the night this evil man had stolen those vegetables from apoor farmer.

  He had stolen them and now he had brought them to the market place tosell. They were not fresh like Philippe's vegetables, because the thiefdid not know how to take care of them.

  The little girl with Philippe's neighbor glanced shyly at the boy. Shewas dark like the man. But her face was not like his. It was sweet andpretty.

  Suddenly Philippe was surprised to hear the man call out cheerily: "Goodmorning to you, friend, and to the little golden-haired singing bird."

  The man had changed from the day before. Philippe now rather liked hisweather-beaten face. It was all wrinkled with smiles.

  "Good morning to you, sir," answered Philippe.

  "This is Zelie, my little daughter," said the fellow, still smiling."Zelie, go over and shake hands with the boy and with the little singingbird. You must get acquainted."

  Zelie obeyed. She seemed a shy but pleasant little girl. She was a yearor so younger than Philippe. Her black hair hung straight from under agypsy-like bandanna. She wore earrings in her ears. Her eyes were black,but they did not flash. They smiled at Philippe.

  The two children talked. Philippe found Zelie bright and interesting.She had traveled a great deal. She spoke of her travels about thecountry.

  THE TWO CHILDREN TALKED]

  While the morning passed, the two children became friends.

  As before, the boy and his sister sold their fresh fine vegetables.People gathered around their booth and clapped for their singing. Butnobody stopped to buy from the man beside them.

  Still, instead of being jealous of Philippe, the stranger kept smilingat his neighbor. When the crowd had gone and it was time to start forhome, the man came over to Philippe's booth.

  "Did my Zelie tell you of her travels?" he asked Philippe.

  "Oh, yes," replied the boy eagerly. "What great fortune to be able towander about the country as you do, sir!"

  The man looked at Philippe with those flashing eyes.

  Then he said, "You could do so, too. You and the singing bird could earngreat sums of money wandering about and singing. Why not go?"

  Philippe started. Such a thing had never entered his mind. Though he haddreamed of adventure and travel, it had been only a dream. />
  "Oh, I couldn't, sir," he answered. "My mother would not let me go."

  "Ha, ha!" laughed the man good-naturedly. "It would not be hard topersuade her. Tell her that Zelie and I will take you with us and youwill be as safe and comfortable as you are at home."

  Philippe wrinkled his brow. Then he began to prepare to go home.Somehow, this plan was a little startling. Still, it did tempt him.

  He seemed to like the man much better today. Zelie, too, was a splendidcompanion. All the way home Philippe thought hard.

  As the days passed, he grew to like Zelie and her father more and more.Zelie showed Philippe many delightful souvenirs from many parts ofBelgium. She had also journeyed to other countries and spoke of thoselands.

  She was always sweet and happy. But Philippe sometimes wondered whythere was a frightened look in her eyes. That frightened look came whenshe was with her father. She seemed to lose it when she sat talking withPhilippe.

  The man, whose name was Tom, asked Philippe one day, "Will you teachZelie to sing your songs? They are so clever and bright."

  "Certainly, sir," promised Philippe.

  So he taught Zelie all of the little songs that he and Rose sang.

  Today the sun was shining in the market place, and birds were singing.Philippe felt full of gladness. He met Zelie and her father, who had asmile on his face.

  "What a fine day for traveling!" he cried. "How I should like to startout and wander to far places!"