1
GRANDFATHER
O NE DAY G RANDFATHER wouldn’t get out of bed. He just lay there and stared at the ceiling and looked sad.
At first little Willy thought he was playing.
Little Willy lived with his grandfather on a small potato farm in Wyoming. It was hard work living on a potato farm, but it was also a lot of fun. Especially when Grandfather felt like playing.
Like the time Grandfather dressed up as the scarecrow out in the garden. It took little Willy an hour to catch on. Boy, did they laugh. Grandfather laughed so hard he cried. And when he cried his beard filled up with tears.
Grandfather always got up real early in the morning. So early that it was still dark outside. He would make a fire. Then he would make breakfast and call little Willy. “Hurry up or you’ll be eating with the chickens,” he would say. Then he would throw his head back and laugh.
Once little Willy went back to sleep. When he woke up, he found his plate out in the chicken coop. It was picked clean. He never slept late again after that.
That is…until this morning. For some reason Grandfather had forgotten to call him. That’s when little Willy discovered that Grandfather was still in bed. There could be only one explanation. Grandfather was playing. It was another trick.
Or was it?
“Get up, Grandfather,” little Willy said. “I don’t want to play anymore.”
But Grandfather didn’t answer.
Little Willy ran out of the house.
A dog was sleeping on the front porch. “Come on, Searchlight!” little Willy cried out. The dog jumped to its feet and together they ran off down the road.
Searchlight was a big black dog. She had a white spot on her forehead the size of a silver dollar. She was an old dog—actually born on the same day as little Willy, which was over ten years ago.
A mile down the road they came to a small log cabin surrounded by tall trees. Doc Smith was sitting in a rocking chair under one of the trees, reading a book.
“Doc Smith,” little Willy called out. He was out of breath. “Come quick.”
“What seems to be the matter, Willy?” the doctor asked, continuing to read.
Doc Smith had snow white hair and wore a long black dress. Her skin was tan and her face was covered with wrinkles.
“Grandfather won’t answer me,” little Willy said.
“Probably just another trick,” Doc Smith replied. “Nothing to worry about.”
“But he’s still in bed.”
Doc Smith turned a page and continued to read. “How late did you two stay up last night?”
“We went to bed early, real early. No singing or music or anything.”
Doc Smith stopped reading.
“Your grandfather went to bed without playing his harmonica?” she asked.
Little Willy nodded.
Doc Smith shut her book and stood up. “Hitch up Rex for me, Willy,” she said. “I’ll get my bag.”
Rex was Doc Smith’s horse. He was a handsome palomino. Little Willy hitched Rex to the wagon, and then they rode back to Grandfather’s farm. Searchlight ran on ahead, leading the wayand barking. Searchlight enjoyed a good run.
Grandfather was just the same. He hadn’t moved.
Searchlight put her big front paws up on the bed and rested her head on Grandfather’s chest. She licked his beard, which was full of tears.
Doc Smith proceeded to examine Grandfather. She used just about everything in her little black bag.
“What’s that for?” little Willy asked. “What are you doing now?”
“Must you ask so many questions?” Doc Smith said.
“Grandfather says it’s good to ask questions.”
Doc Smith pulled a long silver object from her doctor’s bag.
“What’s that for?” little Willy asked.
“Hush!”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry.”
When Doc Smith had finished her examination, she put everything back into her little black bag. Then she walked over to the window and looked out at the field of potatoes.
After a moment she asked, “How’s the crop this year, Willy?”
“Grandfather says it’s the best ever.”
Doc Smith rubbed her
GRANDFATHER
O NE DAY G RANDFATHER wouldn’t get out of bed. He just lay there and stared at the ceiling and looked sad.
At first little Willy thought he was playing.
Little Willy lived with his grandfather on a small potato farm in Wyoming. It was hard work living on a potato farm, but it was also a lot of fun. Especially when Grandfather felt like playing.
Like the time Grandfather dressed up as the scarecrow out in the garden. It took little Willy an hour to catch on. Boy, did they laugh. Grandfather laughed so hard he cried. And when he cried his beard filled up with tears.
Grandfather always got up real early in the morning. So early that it was still dark outside. He would make a fire. Then he would make breakfast and call little Willy. “Hurry up or you’ll be eating with the chickens,” he would say. Then he would throw his head back and laugh.
Once little Willy went back to sleep. When he woke up, he found his plate out in the chicken coop. It was picked clean. He never slept late again after that.
That is…until this morning. For some reason Grandfather had forgotten to call him. That’s when little Willy discovered that Grandfather was still in bed. There could be only one explanation. Grandfather was playing. It was another trick.
Or was it?
“Get up, Grandfather,” little Willy said. “I don’t want to play anymore.”
But Grandfather didn’t answer.
Little Willy ran out of the house.
A dog was sleeping on the front porch. “Come on, Searchlight!” little Willy cried out. The dog jumped to its feet and together they ran off down the road.
Searchlight was a big black dog. She had a white spot on her forehead the size of a silver dollar. She was an old dog—actually born on the same day as little Willy, which was over ten years ago.
A mile down the road they came to a small log cabin surrounded by tall trees. Doc Smith was sitting in a rocking chair under one of the trees, reading a book.
“Doc Smith,” little Willy called out. He was out of breath. “Come quick.”
“What seems to be the matter, Willy?” the doctor asked, continuing to read.
Doc Smith had snow white hair and wore a long black dress. Her skin was tan and her face was covered with wrinkles.
“Grandfather won’t answer me,” little Willy said.
“Probably just another trick,” Doc Smith replied. “Nothing to worry about.”
“But he’s still in bed.”
Doc Smith turned a page and continued to read. “How late did you two stay up last night?”
“We went to bed early, real early. No singing or music or anything.”
Doc Smith stopped reading.
“Your grandfather went to bed without playing his harmonica?” she asked.
Little Willy nodded.
Doc Smith shut her book and stood up. “Hitch up Rex for me, Willy,” she said. “I’ll get my bag.”
Rex was Doc Smith’s horse. He was a handsome palomino. Little Willy hitched Rex to the wagon, and then they rode back to Grandfather’s farm. Searchlight ran on ahead, leading the wayand barking. Searchlight enjoyed a good run.
Grandfather was just the same. He hadn’t moved.
Searchlight put her big front paws up on the bed and rested her head on Grandfather’s chest. She licked his beard, which was full of tears.
Doc Smith proceeded to examine Grandfather. She used just about everything in her little black bag.
“What’s that for?” little Willy asked. “What are you doing now?”
“Must you ask so many questions?” Doc Smith said.
“Grandfather says it’s good to ask questions.”
Doc Smith pulled a long silver object from her doctor’s bag.
“What’s that for?” little Willy asked.
“Hush!”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry.”
When Doc Smith had finished her examination, she put everything back into her little black bag. Then she walked over to the window and looked out at the field of potatoes.
After a moment she asked, “How’s the crop this year, Willy?”
“Grandfather says it’s the best ever.”
Doc Smith rubbed her
Similar Books
