The Quaint and Curious Quest of Johnny Longfoot, The Shoe King's Son by Catherine Besterman (acx book reading .txt) 📕

Barnac had no sooner finished than the cooks jumped on a steep roof and entered the kitchen through a small window. They started to cook with unprecedented speed. Barnac's private secretary sat on the roof and read in a thin voice from a thick book about cooking for men, dogs and bears.

At the end of exactly three minutes and twelve seconds, Johnny and his friends were enjoying a delicious meal. They ate with tremendous appetite. The dinner was served by thin and obviously overworked mice, guarded by a cat-guard armed with an extra claw.

After dinner Fuzzy became round like a barrel and the dogs couldn't even move.

"What excellent food!" said Curly sadly. "To think that when we go back to Shoestring Manor, we shall soon be starving again."

The bear, who by now had some difficulty in crossing his arms over his fuzzy chest, said in a very deep voice, "I don't intend to go back to Mr. Longfoot. I won't let myself be treated that way again. I shall work for Barnac. With just one of my arms I can be more valuable to him than all his slave mice and all his dancing, turning, twirling and jumping cats."

"When someone considers an old stale, dry piece of bread, wet with tears, a good dinner, he should really live alone," added Johnny positively. "I think even a dog's faithfulness is out of place in such circumstances. I, Prince Johnny, tell you not to go back to my uncle."

The dogs looked at one another. Brownie said slowly, "We are dogs, so naturally we are very faithful servants. On the other hand, even the worst master loves his dogs and cares for them. But Mr. Longfoot loves only himself. Therefore he can't really be our master. So there's no reason for us to go back and die a miserable death from starvation."

And they decided never to return to Uncle Lucas.

Johnny left the table, shook hands with his friends, who wished him luck, and with some difficulty climbed onto the roof. There he met Barnac, who was sitting quietly, catnapping and catching sunbeams on his long eyelashes.

"Many thanks for the excellent dinner," said Johnny politely. "I am ready to listen to you now."

"Listen then," said Barnac. "Beyond high, snow-covered mountains, beyond foamy seas, there is a coral island as red as blood. Two giants once fought for treasures hidden there, and the winner took over the island and everything on it, including a pair of old boots. They were seven-league boots, quick-walking boots.

"Cats from every corner of the world keep bringing me news about these boots -- house cats and wild cats, prowling cats and cats that live on ships sailing the Seven Seas. And now a sea cat who travels on pirate ships has just brought me the latest news: the dreadful giant is no more and so I could easily get the boots.

"If you will undertake this task, you will have to go to the coral island, get the boots and change them to fit me. It's up to you to do it so carefully that they do not lose their magic strength. One step -- seven leagues; another step -- seven leagues again. That's the way they've always been and that's the way they must remain."

Johnny sat thinking. Yes, he was a very good shoemaker, indeed a fine one. But he had never done a job like this before and he was a little afraid that he might ruin the precious boots. On the other hand, he remembered what he had heard his father say: "Nothing venture, nothing have."

So he answered, "Oh! That's easy. Certainly I'll go. But the dogs and the bear will have to go with me."

"And I will give you four cats to help you," added Barnac quickly.

"If you don't trust me, prince of cats," said Johnny, a little hurt, "you can send along even eight cats, for all I care."

"With the greatest of pleasure," answered Barnac, scratching the shingles of the roof with his sharp nails. "I hope you don't mind, prince, but you seem to be so smart that I don't trust you at all. The cats will go with you. They will help you a little and they will watch you a little."

"And they will be in charge of the food?" asked Johnny.

"Yes, they will be in charge of the food," Barnac confirmed patiently. But his tail was impatiently knocking at the roof and his eyes were sparkling and flashing green lights.

It's about time to finish this conversation, thought Johnny. This cat has very angry eyes.

He said, "Everything you have decided is clever. I'm ready to leave immediately for the coral island. But would you please send a messenger-cat to my uncle to let him know that we are not coming back? Let him say, please, that we have important matters to attend to."

Barnac giggled maliciously.

"I have a better idea. There are twelve dozen hungry mice in my cellar. They haven't had food for a week. They are being punished for having whipped the cream badly. Today is their last day without food. I think they should have dinner in your Uncle Lucas' barn."

"That way you will get paid for our dinner," remarked Johnny.

"You definitely are very smart," said Barnac severely. His eyes were smiling, though. He was clever and he appreciated other people who had brains.

"You'd better think about my seven-league boots," he added. "This afternoon and all through the evening you shall eat, drink and rest to your heart's content, but you must start on your way at dawn."

Johnny nodded. He slid down the roof and went to his friends who were resting comfortably on a green lawn.

ON BARNAC'S ORDERS the prison cells were thrown open and twelve dozen mice were set free. The guards took off their chains and said to them, "Go to Mr. Lucas Longfoot and tell him that Johnny and the animals won't be back. They are going on a journey for Squire Barnac. You may eat as much as you want at Shoestring Manor. But remember, be back here at the stroke of midnight."

The twelve dozen mice left, squeaking loudly.

Meanwhile Mr. Lucas Longfoot was impatiently walking back and forth in front of his house, awaiting his nephew's return.

I don't understand why in the world I let my animals go, he thought uneasily. That boy is as apt as not to play some trick on me. I don't trust him. He promised me so many things and now there's no sign of him.

At that very moment he saw the mice crowding into the yard.

"What are you doing here?" he shouted in alarm.

"We have come with a message from Johnny Longfoot," one mouse replied. She repeated what the cat-guard had told her. Then she asked, "May we go now to your barn and eat our fill?"

Uncle Lucas threw up his hands in horror and cried, "Miserable mice! Awful creatures! Begone! Begone! Begone immediately or I shall strangle you, burn you, drown you! I shall do something terrible to you, though I don't know yet what it will be."

But there were no mice left in sight. They had all rushed to the barn, though Uncle Lucas didn't know that, of course.

"Good!" he sighed in relief. "The mice have gone. But just the same I am ruined. That terrible Johnny took my dogs and my bear, and now he is going on a trip. Barnac the Cat knows a lot of secrets. They must be conspiring something. I'd feel very sick if, for example, Johnny were to find a hidden treasure and I didn't get any part of it. Since that dreadful boy arrived, I haven't had a moment's peace. The best thing I can do is to go to Barnac's, while the squirrels watch the house. It's not wise to leave with only them as guards, but I can't help it."

Uncle Lucas decided, however, to look around through all the buildings before he left to see Barnac and try to find out what had happened to his nephew. He looked first into his warehouse, then into the basement, then in various places he had hidden things. Finally he had a look into the barn. And there what he saw was more than he could bear!

Twelve dozen mice, squeaking with pleasure, were eating the grain with the greatest of greediness.

"Help!" yelled Uncle Lucas. He tried to chase the mice with his stick. "Help! My grain! My beautiful grain!"

"Let's flee," cried an old mouse. "Let's flee from here! The very thrifty Mr. Longfoot wants to kill his guests. Flee!"

And off they went as fast as they could scamper. Uncle Lucas was at their heels, pale with anger, shouting, screaming and hitting with his stick at the rear guard of the fleeing column of mice.

They ran through fields, over mountains and into valleys. Uncle Lucas finally got tired and slowed his pace. That allowed the mice to form regular marching columns, dozen by dozen, until all twelve dozen of them were marching slowly and in perfect order.

The mice were in an excellent mood and even joked. "Isn't it nice to have a walk after dinner?" they said. "Without this walk we couldn't sleep well."

Uncle Lucas followed them, breathing heavily and threatening them all the time with promises of terrible punishment. Later he started to plead with them in a voice full of false sweetness.

"Mice, dear little mice," he begged, "wait a minute until I can catch up with you. Don't be in such a hurry! I was only joking! I am so glad you ate up my grain. Come back to the barn. I will entertain you lavishly. How about some cheese or bacon? I am your friend. I love mice, little mice, darlings of mine!"

Tired though they were, the mice did not stop.

"I prefer working for cats," said one of them to another, as they marched briskly side by side. "At least it's better than falling into the hands of this thin, skinny individual. Do you hear how his voice trembles with rage?"

"I certainly do," answered her friend. "My feet get stiff from fear at the very thought that he might catch us."

They all went a little faster. But as everything in this world is bound to have an end, the mice soon found themselves on Barnac's estate. There the cat-guards moved their whiskers approvingly, because the mice were back exactly on time.

"Here we are," squeaked the oldest mouse. "Dear guard, put us, please, right away into the deepest prison cell, because that dreadful Mr. Longfoot is after us with a stick in his hand. He wants to kill us."

"Really!" answered the captain of the cat-guard. "Go back to your work and don't worry. I'll be ready for Mr. Longfoot!"

He miaowed twelve times and at once a number of cats jumped down from the steeply sloping roofs. Each was armed with extra claws.

"Attention!" yelled the captain of the guard. "Mr. Longfoot is approaching. He wants to kill off our mice."

"Miaow, miaow, miaow," answered the cats angrily. "We will kill him!"

"Impossible," said the captain sadly. "We must never do that to a guest. We must welcome him