The Wishing Tree by William Faulkner

Author:William Faulkner [Faulkner, William]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780307799630
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2012-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

“I bet you’d be scared as scared,” George said.

“I bet I wouldn’t be scared of a hundred enemies,” the little old man said. “I bet I’d just ride right into ’em and slice ’em in two with a sword like this.”

“I bet you wouldn’t slice a dog in two,” George said. “I bet you’d be scared.”

“I bet I wouldn’t,” the little old man answered. “I bet I’d just—”

“I bet you’d be scared of a tiger or a lion,” George said.

“I bet I’ve killed a hundred tigers and lions in this very forest,” the little old man said, “with a sword just like this … No, I used the sword in the war. I don’t remember what I killed the tigers and lions with. It was something else.”

“I guess you kilt ’em dodgin’ rollin’ pins and flatirons,” Alice said.

“If I was runnin’ a war,” Alice’s husband said. “I’d get me a bunch of married women and I’d blindfold ’em and I’d p’int ’em and I’d say, ‘Go right straight like you’s headed and when you hits somethin’, it’s your husband.’ That’s the way I’d conduck a war.”

“It would save money, wouldn’t it?” the little old man said, “because they could pick up the flatirons and rollingpins and throw them again, couldn’t they?”

“I’ve knowed some that don’t need no flatirons and rollin’ pins,” Alice’s husband said. “Wait twell you’s been married as freqump as I is.”

“Yaaah,” said George, “I bet if a lion jumped out from behind a tree in front of you, you’d fall dead.”

“I bet I wouldn’t,” said the little old man, waving his sword again, “I bet I’d just—”

“I wish a lion would ju—”

Dulcie screamed, and George didn’t even finish what he was saying, and Alice’s husband bellowed like a foghorn, but Alice’s voice drowned them all; and they flew down the road. Alice’s husband climbed a tree, and Alice ran carrying Dicky in one arm and dragging Dulcie by the other, and behind them came George howling at the top of his voice. But the little old man, still carrying his sword, distanced them all.

“Stop! Stop!” the redheaded boy shouted, and Alice stopped and leaned against a tree, panting for breath. There, in the middle of the road, sat the lion, and near it on his snorting pony was the redheaded boy. “Come back,” the redheaded boy called to them, “he won’t hurt you.”

“Not twell you get that thing out of here,” Alice said. “You, Dulcie! Don’t you go back up there.”

“All you have to do,” the redheaded boy said, “is for the one that wished the lion to unwish him. Who was it who wished him? It was George, wasn’t it?”

“I guess so,” George answered.

“Well, do you want him?” the redheaded boy asked.

“Not me,” replied George. “I hope I never see another one.” And as soon as George said this, the lion was gone.

“Now we can go back,” Dulcie said.

“You, Dulcie!” Alice exclaimed. “Don’t you go up there! That thing jes’ jumped behime that tree: I seen him!”

“No, no,” the redheaded boy said, “he’s gone.

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