Read The Short Happy Life of the Brown Oxford and Other Classic Stories for Free Online Page B

were small, and it was easier to talk to them. They accepted everything they heard, and they did what they were told. Or so it was said at the factory.
    The little metal figure lay, lost in dreamy, delicious thoughts.
     
    The boy’s heart was beating quickly. He ran upstairs and pushed the door open. After he had closed the door carefully he went to the bed and sat down. He looked down at what he held in his hands.
    “What’s your name?” he said. “What are you called?”
    The metal figure did not answer.
    “I’ll introduce you around. You must get to know everybody. You’ll like it here.”
    Bobby laid the figure down on the bed. He ran to the closet and dragged out a bulging carton of toys.
    “This is Bonzo,” he said. He held up a pale stuffed rabbit. “And Fred.” He turned the rubber pig around for the soldier to see. “And Teddo, of course. This is Teddo.”
    He carried Teddo to the bed and laid him beside the soldier. Teddo lay silent, gazing up at the ceiling with glassy eyes. Teddo was a brown bear, with wisps of straw poking out of his joints.
    “And what shall we call you?” Bobby said. “I think we should have a council and decide.” He paused, considering. “I’ll wind you up so we can all see how you work.”
    He began to wind the figure carefully, turning it over on its face. When the key was tight he bent down and set the figure on the floor.
    “Go on,” Bobby said. The metal figure stood still. Then it began to whirr and click. Across the floor it went, walking with stiff jerks. It changed directions suddenly and headed toward the door. At the door it stopped. Then it turned to some building blocks lying about and began to push them into a heap.
    Bobby watched with interest. The little figure struggled with the blocks, piling them into a pyramid. At last it climbed up onto the blocks and turned the key in the lock.
    Bobby scratched his head, puzzled. “Why did you do that?” he said. The figure climbed back down and came across the room toward Bobby, clicking and whirring. Bobby and the stuffed animals regarded it with surprise and wonder. The figure reached the bed and halted.
    “Lift me up!” it cried impatiently, in its thin, metallic voice. “Hurry up! Don’t just sit there!”
    Bobby’s eyes grew large. He stared, blinking. The stuffed animals said nothing.
    “Come on!” the little soldier shouted.
    Bobby reached down. The soldier seized his hand tightly. Bobby cried out.
    “Be still,” the soldier commanded. “Lift me up to the bed. I have things to discuss with you, things of great importance.”
    Bobby put it down on the bed beside him. The room was silent, except for the faint whirring of the metal figure.
    “This is a nice room,” the soldier said presently. “A very nice room.”
    Bobby drew back a little on the bed.
    “What’s the matter?” the soldier said sharply, turning its head and staring up.
    “Nothing.”
    “What is it?” The little figure peered at him. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”
    Bobby shifted uncomfortably.
    “Afraid of me!” The soldier laughed. “I’m only a little metal man, only six inches high.” It laughed again and again. It ceased abruptly. “Listen. I’m going to live here with you for a while. I won’t hurt you; you can count on that. I’m a friend—a good friend.”
    It peered up a little anxiously. “But I want you to do things for me. You won’t mind doing things, will you? Tell me: how many are there of them in your family?”
    Bobby hesitated.
    “Come, how many of them? Adults.”
    “Three… Daddy, and Mother, and Foxie.”
    “Foxie? Who is that?”
    “My grandmother.”
    “Three of them.” The figure nodded. “I see. Only three. But others come from time to time? Other Adults visit this house?”
    Bobby nodded.
    “Three. That’s not too many. Three are not so much of a problem. According to the factory—”
    It broke off. “Good. Listen to me. I don’t want you to say anything to them