Jimmieboy's Valentine

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Jimmy Boy's Valentine.

Jimmy Boy had been watching for the postman all day

and he was getting just a little tired of it.

It was Valentine's Day.

And he was very naturally expecting

that some of his many friends would remember their fact

and send him a Valentine.

Still, the postman, strange to say, didn't come.

He'll be later than usual, said Jimmy Boy's mama.

The postman has always lay on Valentine's Day.

He has so many Valentine's to leave at people's houses.

Well, I wish he'd hurry, said Jimmy Boy,

because I want to see what my Valentine's look like.

Jimmy Boy always called Valentine's, Valentine's,

so nobody paid any attention to that mistake.

And then the front door bell rang.

I guess, maybe, perhaps, that's the postman.

Though I didn't hear his whistle, said Jimmy Boy,

rushing to the head of the stairs and listening intently.

But no one went to the door, and Jimmy Boy became so impatient

that he fairly tumbled down the stairs to open it himself.

How do you do, he said, as he opened the door,

and then he stopped short in amazement.

There was no one there, and yet his solution was returned.

How do you do, something said.

I'm glad you came to the door, because I might have got an in

if the maid had opened it.

People who don't understand queer things don't understand me.

And I rather think if the girl had opened that door

and had been spoken to by something she couldn't see,

she'd had started to run and hide.

Shrieking locked me while I've half a mind

shrieked locked myself, said Jimmy Boy, a little fearfully.

For he wasn't quite easy about this invisible sun

what he was talking to.

Who are you, anyhow?

I'm not a who, I'm a what, said the queer thing.

I'm not a person, I'm a thing.

Just a plain, only queer thing.

I couldn't hurt a fly, so there's no reason

why you should cry, look.

Well, what kind of queer thing are you, asked Jimmy Boy?

Are you the kind of queer thing I can invite into the house,

or would it be better for me to shut the door

and make you stay outside?

I don't like to say, said the queer thing

with a pathetic little say.

I think I'm very nice, and that anybody ought

to be glad to have me in the house.

But that's only my opinion of myself.

Somebody else might think very differently.

In fact, somebody else has thought differently.

You know, rhinoceros and crocodiles

think themselves very handsome,

and that's why they sit and gaze at themselves

in the water all the time?

Everybody else, though, knows that they are very ugly.

Now that's the way with me.

As I have said, I'm sure in my online

that I am perfectly splendid

and yet your uncle, periodical, who thought of me

wouldn't write and send me to you.

You must be very wise if you know what you mean,

said Jimmy Boy.

I don't.

Oh no, I'm not so wise.

I'm only splendid.

That's all, said the other.

You see, I'm a Valentine.

Only I was never made.

I was only thought of.

Your uncle, periodical, thought of me

and he was going to send me to you

and then he changed his mind

and thought you'd rather have a box of candy.

So he didn't write me

and send you a box of chocolate creams instead.

The postman's got him

and if he doesn't find out what they are

and eat him all up, you'll receive them this afternoon.

Won't you let me come in and tell me about myself

and see if you don't like me?

I want to be liked, oh, ever so much.

And I was awfully disappointed

when your uncle decided not to send me.

I cried for eight minutes

and then resolved to come here myself

and see if after all he wasn't wrong.

Let me come in and if you don't like me,

I'll go right out again and never come back.

I like you already without knowing

what kind of Valentine you are,

said Jimmy Boy kindly.

Of course you can come in

and you can stay as long as you want to.

I don't believe you'll be in anybody's way.

Thank you very much, said the Valentine,

gratefully as it moved into the house

and to judge from where its voice next came

settle down on the big sofa cushion.

I'd hoped you'd say that.

What kind of Valentine are you,

asked Jimmy Boy in a moment?

I are a funny one or a solemn one

with paper frills all over in a box

and a little cupid peeping out from behind the tree.

I am almost afraid to tell you,

said the Valentine, technically.

I'm so afraid you won't like me.

Oh yes I will, said Jimmy Boy hastily.

I like all kinds of Valentine's.

Well, that's a relief, said the other.

I'm comic.

Hooray, cried Jimmy Boy.

I just love comic of Valentine's

with random blue pictures in them

and funny verses.

Do you really return the Valentine cheerfully?

Then I can say hooray too

because that's what I was to be.

I was to be a picture of a boy with red trousers on

sitting crosswise on a great yellow broomstick

galloping through a blue sky toward a pink moon.

How do you like that?

It is splendid.

Just as you said,

returned Jimmy Boy with a broad smile.

Those are my favorite colors.

You like those colors better than you do

chocolate cream color?

Ask the Valentine.

Oh, my yes, said Jimmy Boy.

Probably you wouldn't want to be so good

to eat as a chocolate cream

but for a Valentine, you're much better.

I don't want to eat Valentine's.

I want to keep him.

You don't know how glad you make me

to the pathetic little Valentine.

It's voice trembling with happiness.

Now if you like my verses as well as you do my picture,

I will be perfectly content.

I guess I like him, said Jimmy Boy.

Can you recite yourself to me?

I'm not written.

Didn't I tell you return the Valentine?

That's the good part of it.

I can tell you what I might have been

and you can take your choice.

That's good, said Jimmy Boy.

Then I'm sure to be satisfied.

Just so, said the Valentine,

now let me think what I might have been.

Hmm, well, what do you think on this?

If I'd had a cat with a bright retail

and a parrot whose voice was soft and low,

I'd put him away in a water pail

and send him to where the glowworms glow.

And then I would sit on an old whisk broom

and sail through the great soft-style and sky

to where bright moon means galey fruump

this song to the parboiled Jiminy.

And I say to the fruumping moonbeams

that I'd come from the home of the sweet woodbine

deserting my parrot and red-tailed cat

to ask if they'd be my Valentine.

I guess that's good, said Jimmy Boy.

Only I don't know what fruumping is.

Neither do I, said the Valentine,

but that need that make any difference.

You see, it's a nonsense rhyme anyhow

and I couldn't remember any word that rhyme with fruump.

Fruump isn't a bad word

and in so much as it's new to us,

we can make it mean anything we want to.

That's true, said Jimmy Boy,

but why do you send the cat and the parrot off?

They aren't in the picture to the Valentine

and so, of course, we have to get rid of them

before we have the boy start off on the broomstick.

It would be very awkward to go sailing off through the sky

on a broomstick with the parrot and cat and toe.

Then, to show the moonbeams how much the boy thinks of them,

you have to have him leave something behind

that he thinks a great deal of

and that's something might just as well be

a parrot and a cat as anything else.

And what does it all mean, asked Jimmy Boy?

It's the boy supposed to be me, no,

explained in Valentine.

The boy is supposed to be Uncle Perry Winkle

and you are the moonbeams.

In putting the poem the way I've told you

is just another nonsense way of saying

that he'll be your Valentine

and will take a great deal of trouble

and make sacrifices to do it if necessary.

I see, said Jimmy Boy,

and I think it's very nice indeed,

though I might like some other verse better.

Of course you might, said the Valentine.

That's the way with everything.

No matter how fine a thing may be,

there may be something else that might be better

and the thing to do it is to look about

and try to find the thing that's better.

How's this?

The broom went round to Jimmy Boy's and cried

Oh, Jimmy Boy, be, come forth in the night,

desert your toys and take a fine ride with me.

I'll take you off through the starlit sky

who visit the moon so fine.

If you will come with my eloquerity

and be my Valentine, that isn't so bad either, said Jimmy Boy.

I sort of wish a broomstick would come after me that way

and take me sailing off to the moon.

I'd be its Valentine in a minute if it would do that.

I'd like to take a trip through all the stars

and see why they twinkle and why they twinkle

interrupted the Valentine.

Why they twinkle, huh, why, I can tell you that

for as a secret just between you and me,

I know a broomstick that has been up to the stars

and told me all about them.

The stars twinkle because from where they are,

they are so high up and they can see

all that is going on in the world

and they see so many amusing things

that it keeps them laughing all the time

and they have to twinkle just as your eyes do

when they see anything funny.

That said, is it, said Jimmy Boy?

Yes, sir, said the Valentine and it's fine too

to watch him when you are feeling sad.

You know how it is when you're feeling sort of unhappy

and somebody comes right along who feels just the other way

who laughs and sings how you get to feel better

by yourself right off?

Well, remember the stars when you don't feel good.

How they're always twinkling.

Watch him and by and by you begin to twinkle yourself.

You can't help it and further Jimmy Boy

added this all together strange Valentine

when anybody's tries to make you think

that this world has got more bad things

and good things in it.

Look at the stars again.

They wouldn't twinkle if that was so

until the stars got twinkling and begin to frown.

I don't think you'll ever think badly of the world.

I won't, said Jimmy Boy.

I always did like the world.

As long as I've been in it,

I thought it was a pretty fine place.

It is, said the Valentine.

Nobody can spoil it either,

unless you do it yourself.

But I say, if you'd like to have me,

I'll introduce you to my brimstick friend sometime

and maybe someday he'll give you that right.

Will you cry Jimmy Boy with delight?

That will be fine.

You are the dearest old Valentine that ever was.

Saying which, forgetting in this happiness

that the Valentine was not to be seen

and so could not be touched,

Jimmy Boy leaned over to hug him affectionately

as he sat on the sofa cushion.

Which may account for the fact

that when Jimmy Boy's papar came home,

he found Jimmy Boy clasping the sofa cushion

in his arms asleep and unconscious,

or the fact that the postman had come and gone,

leaving behind him six comic Valentine's,

four solemn ones and a package of chocolate creams

from Uncle Perry Winkle.

When he waked, he was rejoiced to find them.

But he has often told me since

that the finest Valentine he ever got

was the one Uncle Perry Winkle thought he wouldn't like

as well as the candy.

And I believe he still has hopes

that the invisible Valentine may turn up again someday,

bringing with him his friend, the brimstick,

who will still take Jimmy Boy off

for a visit to the twinkling stars.

End of Jimmy Boy's Valentine by John Kendrick Banks.

Tyler Reddick here from 2311 Racing,

another checkered flag for the books.

Time to celebrate with Jamba.

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