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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Oswald Bastable and Others + +Author: Edith Nesbit + +Illustrator: Charles E. Brock + H. R. Millar + +Release Date: May 14, 2009 [EBook #28804] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OSWALD BASTABLE AND OTHERS *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + + + +<h1>OSWALD BASTABLE AND OTHERS</h1> + + + <h4><i>By</i></h4> + <h2>E. NESBIT</h2> + + <h4><i>Illustrated by</i></h4> + <h3>CHARLES E. BROCK</h3> + <h4>AND</h4> + <h3>H. R. MILLAR</h3> + + <p class="center">ERNEST BENN LIMITED<br /> + LONDON<br /> + + COWARD-McCANN INC<br /> + NEW YORK<br /><br /> + + <i>First re-issued in this edition 1960</i><br /><br /> + + <i>Published by Ernest Benn Limited<br /> + Bouverie House · Fleet Street · London · EC4<br /> + and Coward-McCann Inc<br /> + 210 Madison Avenue · New York 16 · NY</i><br /><br /> + + <i>Printed in Great Britain</i></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 398px;"> +<a name="frontis" id="frontis"></a> +<img src="images/gs01.jpg" width="398" height="600" alt="'"Don't break down the door! The villains may return any +moment and destroy you."'—Page 115." title="" /> +<span class="caption">'"Don't break down the door! The villains may return any +moment and destroy you."'—Page <a href='#Page_115'><b>115</b></a>.</span> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="centerbox"> +<h4> + TO<br /><br /> + MY DEAR NIECE<br /><br /> + ANTHONIA NESBIT +</h4></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> + + + + + + +<div class='centered'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="65%" cellspacing="0" summary="CONTENTS"> +<tr><th align='center'>OSWALD BASTABLE</th></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>AN OBJECT OF VALUE AND VIRTUE</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_1'><b>1</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE RUNAWAYS</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_34'><b>34</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE ARSENICATORS: A TALE OF CRIME</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_64'><b>64</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>THE ENCHANCERIED HOUSE</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_89'><b>89</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><th align='center'>OTHERS</th></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>MOLLY, THE MEASLES, AND THE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>MISSING WILL</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_123'><b>123</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>BILLY AND WILLIAM</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_151'><b>151</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE TWOPENNY SPELL</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_167'><b>167</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>SHOWING OFF; OR, THE LOOKING-GLASS BOY</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_181'><b>181</b></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>THE RING AND THE LAMP</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_200'><b>200</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE CHARMED LIFE; OR, THE PRINCESS AND THE LIFT-MAN</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_224'><b>224</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>BILLY THE KING</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_247'><b>247</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE PRINCESS AND THE CAT</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_275'><b>275</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE WHITE HORSE</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_301'><b>301</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>SIR CHRISTOPHER COCKLESHELL</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_318'><b>318</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>MUSCADEL</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_343'><b>343</b></a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS" id="LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS"></a>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + + + +<div class='centered'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="75%" cellspacing="0" summary="ILLUSTRATIONS"> +<tr><td align='left'>'<i>Don't break down the door! The villains may return any moment and destroy you</i>'</td><td align='right'><a href='#frontis'><b><i>Frontispiece</i></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>'Here is your prize,' said Oswald</i></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_30'><b>30</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>'Come into the kitchen,' said Oswald; 'you can drip there quite comfortably'</i></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_52'><b>52</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>We consented to carry the unfortunate bed-woman to it</i></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_76'><b>76</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>The room was a very odd shape</i></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_103'><b>103</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>A little person in a large white cap</i></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_121'><b>121</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>Molly had a splendid ride behind the groom</i></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_134'><b>134</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>The bicycle started, Billy in the saddle and Harold on the step</i></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_164'><b>164</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>'<i>And what can we do for you to-day, Miss?</i>'</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_170'><b>170</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>The alligator very nearly had him</i></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_194'><b>194</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>'<i>Your servant, Miss. Do I understand that you order me to mend this?</i>'</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_206'><b>206</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>The little girl had slapped Fina, and taken the pagoda away</i></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_214'><b>214</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>'<i>We'll see if you are going to begin a-ordering of me about</i>'</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_218'><b>218</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>'Come by post, your Lordship,' said the footman</i></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_254'><b>254</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>'Excuse my hair, Sire,' he said</i></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_256'><b>256</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>'<i>Speak to the dragon as soon as it arrives</i>'</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_262'><b>262</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>The two skated into each other's arms</i></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_270'><b>270</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>'Take that!' cried he, aiming an apple at the old man's head</i></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_306'><b>306</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>In the drawer was just one jewelled ring. It lay on a written page</i></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_346'><b>346</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>A black-winged monster, with hundreds and hundreds of eyes</i></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_350'><b>350</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>On the table stood the dazzling figure of a real full-sized princess</i></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_358'><b>358</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><i>A blowzy, frowzy dairymaid</i></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_362'><b>362</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>'<i>You've got a face as long as a fiddle</i>'</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_366'><b>366</b></a></td></tr> +</table></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="AN_OBJECT_OF_VALUE_AND_VIRTUE" id="AN_OBJECT_OF_VALUE_AND_VIRTUE"></a>AN OBJECT OF VALUE AND VIRTUE</h2> + + +<p>This happened a very little time after we left our humble home in +Lewisham, and went to live at the Blackheath house of our Indian uncle, +which was replete with every modern convenience, and had a big garden +and a great many greenhouses. We had had a lot of jolly Christmas +presents, and one of them was Dicky's from father, and it was a +printing-press. Not one of the eighteenpenny kind that never come off, +but a real tip-topper, that you could have printed a whole newspaper out +of if you could have been clever enough to make up all the stuff there +is in newspapers. I don't know how people can do it. It's all about +different things, but it is all just the same too. But the author is +sorry to find he is not telling things from the beginning, as he has +been taught. The printing-press really doesn't come into the story till +quite a long way on. So it is no use your wondering what it was that we +did print<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> with the printing-press. It was not a newspaper, anyway, and +it wasn't my young brother's poetry, though he and the girls did do an +awful lot of that. It was something much more far-reaching, as you will +see if you wait.</p> + +<p>There wasn't any skating those holidays, because it was what they call +nice open weather. That means it was simply muggy, and you could play +out of doors without grown-ups fussing about your overcoat, or bringing +you to open shame in the streets with knitted comforters, except, of +course, the poet Noël, who is young, and equal to having bronchitis if +he only looks at a pair of wet boots. But the girls were indoors a good +deal, trying to make things for a bazaar which the people our +housekeeper's elder sister lives with were having in the country for the +benefit of a poor iron church that was in difficulties. And Noël and H. +O. were with them, putting sweets in bags for the bazaar's lucky-tub. So +Dicky and I were out alone together. But we were not angry with the +others for their stuffy way of spending a day. Two is not a good number, +though, for any game except fives; and the man who ordered the vineries +and pineries, and butlers' pantries and things, never had the sense to +tell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> the builders to make a fives court. Some people never think of the +simplest things. So we had been playing catch with a fives ball. It was +Dicky's ball, and Oswald said:</p> + +<p>'I bet you can't hit it over the house.'</p> + +<p>'What do you bet?' said Dicky.</p> + +<p>And Oswald replied:</p> + +<p>'Anything you like. You couldn't do it, anyhow.'</p> + +<p>Dicky said:</p> + +<p>'Miss Blake says betting is wicked; but I don't believe it is, if you +don't bet money.'</p> + +<p>Oswald reminded him how in 'Miss Edgeworth' even that wretched little +Rosamond, who is never allowed to do anything she wants to, even lose +her own needles, makes a bet with her brother, and none of the grown-ups +turn a hair.</p> + +<p>'But <i>I</i> don't want to bet,' he said. 'I know you can't do it.'</p> + +<p>'I'll bet you my fives ball I do,' Dicky rejoindered.</p> + +<p>'Done! I'll bet you that threepenny ball of string and the cobbler's wax +you were bothering about yesterday.'</p> + +<p>So Dicky said 'Done!' and then he went and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> got a tennis racket—when I +meant with his hands—and the ball soared up to the top of the house and +faded away. But when we went round to look for it we couldn't find it +anywhere. So he said it had gone over and he had won. And Oswald thought +it had not gone over, but stayed on the roof, and he hadn't. And they +could not agree about it, though they talked of nothing else till tea +time.</p> + +<p>It was a few days after that that the big greenhouse began to leak, and +something was said at brekker about had any of us been throwing stones. +But it happened that we had not. Only after brek Oswald said to Dicky:</p> + +<p>'What price fives balls for knocking holes in greenhouses?'</p> + +<p>'Then you own it went over the house, and I won my bet. Hand over!' +Dicky remarked.</p> + +<p>But Oswald did not see this, because it wasn't proved it was the fives +ball. It was only his idea.</p> + +<p>Then it rained for two or three days, and the greenhouse leaked much +more than just a fives ball, and the grown-ups said the man who put it +up had scamped the job, and they sent for him to put it right. And when +he was ready he came,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> and men came with ladders and putty and glass, +and a thing to cut it with a real diamond in it that he let us have to +look at. It was fine that day, and Dicky and H. O. and I were out most +of the time talking to the men. I think the men who come to do things to +houses are so interesting to talk to; they seem to know much more about +the things that really matter than gentlemen do. I shall try to be like +them when I grow up, and not always talk about politics and the way the +army is going to the dogs.</p> + +<p>The men were very jolly, and let us go up the ladder and look at the top +of the greenhouse. Not H. O., of course, because he is very young +indeed, and wears socks. When they had gone to dinner, H. O. went in to +see if some pies were done that he had made out of a bit of putty the +man gave him. He had put the pies in the oven when the cook wasn't +looking. I think something must have been done to him, for he did not +return.</p> + +<p>So Dicky and I were left. Dicky said:</p> + +<p>'If I could get the ladder round to the roof of the stovehouse I believe +I should find my fives ball in the gutter. I <i>know</i> it went over the +house that day.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> + +<p>So Oswald, ever ready and obliging, helped his brother to move the +ladder round to the tiled roof of the stovehouse, and Dicky looked in +the gutter. But even he could not pretend the ball was there, because I +am certain it never went over at all.</p> + +<p>When he came down, Oswald said:</p> + +<p>'Sold again!'</p> + +<p>And Dicky said:</p> + +<p>'Sold yourself! You jolly well thought it was there, and you'd have to +pay for it.'</p> + +<p>This unjustness was Oswald's reward for his kind helpingness about +moving the ladder. So he turned away, just saying carelessly over his +retiring shoulder:</p> + +<p>'I should think you'd have the decency to put the ladder back where you +found it.' And he walked off.</p> + +<p>But he has a generous heart—a crossing-sweeper told him so once when he +gave him a halfpenny—and when Dicky said, 'Come on, Oswald; don't be a +sneak,' he proved that he was not one, and went back and helped with the +ladder. But he was a little distant to Dicky, till all disagreeableness +was suddenly buried in a rat Pincher found in the cucumber frame.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then the washing-hands-and-faces-for-dinner bell rang, and, of course, +we should have gone in directly, only just then the workmen came back +from their dinner, and we waited, because one of them had promised +Oswald some hinges for a ferrets' hutch he thought of making, and while +he was talking to this man the other one went up the ladder. And then +the most exciting and awful thing I ever saw happened, all in a minute, +before anyone could have said 'Jack Robinson,' even if they had thought +of him. The bottom part of the ladder slipped out along the smooth tiles +by the greenhouse, and there was a long, dream-like, dreadful time, when +Oswald knew what was going to happen; but it could only have been a +second really, because before anyone could do anything the top end of +the ladder slid softly, like cutting butter, off the top of the +greenhouse, and the man on the ladder fell too. I never saw anything +that made me feel so wrong way up in my inside. He lay there all in a +heap, without moving, and the men crowded round him. Dicky and I could +not see properly because of the other men. But the foreman, the one who +had given Oswald the hinges, said:</p> + +<p>'Better get a doctor.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p> + +<p>It always takes a long time for a workman to understand what you want +him to do, and long before these had, Oswald had shouted 'I'll go!' and +was off like an arrow from a bow, and Dicky with him.</p> + +<p>They found the doctor at home, and he came that minute. Oswald and Dicky +were told to go away, but they could not bear to, though they knew their +dinner-bell must have been already rung for them many times in vain, and +it was now ringing with fury. They just lurked round the corner of the +greenhouse till the doctor said it was a broken arm, and nothing else +hurt; and when the poor man was sent home in a cab, Oswald and Dicky got +the cabman, who is a friend of theirs, to let them come on the box with +him. And thus they saw where the man lived, and saw his poor wife greet +the sufferer. She only said:</p> + +<p>'Gracious, Gus, whatever have you been up to now? You always was an +unlucky chap.'</p> + +<p>But we could see her loving heart was full to overflowing.</p> + +<p>When she had taken him in and shut the door we went away. The wretched +sufferer, whose name transpired to be Augustus Victor Plunkett,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> was +lucky enough to live in a mews. Noël made a poem about it afterwards:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'O Muse of Poetry, do not refuse</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To tell about a man who loves the Mews.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It is his humble home so poor,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the cabman who drove him home lives next door</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But two: and when his arm was broke</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">His loving wife with tears spoke.'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>And so on. It went on for two hundred and twenty-four lines, and he +could not print it, because it took far too much type for the +printing-press. It was as we went out of the mews that we first saw the +Goat. I gave him a piece of cocoanut ice, and he liked it awfully. He +was tied to a ring in the wall, and he was black and white, with horns +and a beard; and when the man he belonged to saw us looking at him, he +said we could have that Goat a bargain. And when we asked, out of +politeness and not because we had any money, except twopence halfpenny +of Dicky's, how much he wanted for the Goat, he said:</p> + +<p>'Seven and sixpence is the lowest, so I won't deceive you, young gents. +And so help me if he ain't worth thribble the money.'</p> + +<p>Oswald did the sum in his head, which told<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> him the Goat was worth one +pound two shillings and sixpence, and he went away sadly, for he did +want that Goat.</p> + +<p>We were later for dinner than I ever remember our being, and Miss Blake +had not kept us any pudding; but Oswald bore up when he thought of the +Goat. But Dicky seemed to have no beautiful inside thoughts to sustain +him, and he was so dull Dora said she only hoped he wasn't going to have +measles.</p> + +<p>It was when we had gone up to bed that he fiddled about with the studs +and old buttons and things in a velvety box he had till Oswald was in +bed, and then he said:</p> + +<p>'Look here, Oswald, I feel as if I was a murderer, or next-door to. It +was our moving that ladder: I'm certain it was. And now he's laid up, +and his wife and children.'</p> + +<p>Oswald sat up in bed, and said kindly:</p> + +<p>'You're right, old chap. It <i>was</i> your moving that ladder. Of course, +you didn't put it back firm. But the man's not killed.'</p> + +<p>'We oughtn't to have touched it,' he said. 'Or we ought to have told +them we had, or something. Suppose his arm gets blood-poisoning, or +inflammation, or something awful? I couldn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> go on living if I was a +doer of a deed like that.'</p> + +<p>Oswald had never seen Dicky so upset. He takes things jolly easy as a +rule. Oswald said:</p> + +<p>'Well, it is no use fuming over it. You'd better get out of your clothes +and go to bed. We'll cut down in the morning and leave our cards and +kind inquiries.'</p> + +<p>Oswald only meant to be kind, and by making this amusing remark he +wished to draw his erring brother's thoughts from the remorse that was +poisoning his young life, and would very likely keep him awake for an +hour or more thinking of it, and fidgetting about so that Oswald +couldn't sleep.</p> + +<p>But Dicky did not take it at all the way Oswald meant. He said:</p> + +<p>'Shut up, Oswald, you beast!' and lay down on his bed and began to blub.</p> + +<p>Oswald said, 'Beast yourself!' because it is the proper thing to say; +but he was not angry, only sorry that Dicky was so duffing as not to see +what he meant. And he got out of bed and went softly to the girls' room, +which is next ours, and said:</p> + +<p>'I say, come in to our room a sec., will you?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> Dicky is howling fit to +bring the house down. I think a council of us elder ones would do him +more good than anything.'</p> + +<p>'Whatever is up?' Dora asked, getting into her dressing-gown.</p> + +<p>'Oh, nothing, except that he's a murderer! Come on, and don't make a +row. Mind the mats and our boots by the door.'</p> + +<p>They came in, and Oswald said:</p> + +<p>'Look here, Dicky, old boy, here are the girls, and we're going to have +a council about it.'</p> + +<p>They wanted to kiss him, but he wouldn't, and shrugged his shoulders +about, and wouldn't speak; but when Alice had got hold of his hand he +said in a muffled voice:</p> + +<p>'You tell them, Oswald.'</p> + +<p>When Oswald and Dicky were alone, you will have noticed the just elder +brother blamed the proper person, which was Dicky, because he would go +up on the stovehouse roof after his beastly ball, which Oswald did not +care a rap about. And, besides, he knew it wasn't there. But now that +other people were there Oswald, of course, said:</p> + +<p>'You see, <i>we</i> moved the men's ladder when they were at their dinner. +And you know the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> man that fell off the ladder, and we went with him in +the cab to the place where that Goat was? Well, Dicky has only just +thought of it; but, of course, it was really our fault his tumbling, +because we couldn't have put the ladder back safely. And Dicky thinks if +his arm blood-poisoned itself we should be as good as murderers.'</p> + +<p>Dicky is perfectly straight; he sat up and sniffed, and blew his nose, +and said:</p> + +<p>'It was my idea moving the ladder: Oswald only helped.'</p> + +<p>'Can't we ask uncle to see that the dear sufferer wants for nothing +while he's ill, and all that?' said Dora.</p> + +<p>'Well,' said Oswald, 'we could, of course. But, then, it would all come +out. And about the fives ball too. And we can't be at all sure it <i>was</i> +the ball made the greenhouse leak, because I know it never went over the +house.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, it did,' said Dicky, giving his nose a last stern blow.</p> + +<p>Oswald was generous to a sorrowing foe, and took no notice, only went +on:</p> + +<p>'And about the ladder: we can't be quite sure it wouldn't have slipped +on those tiles, even if we'd never moved it. But I think Dicky would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +feel jollier if we could do something for the man, and I know it would +me.'</p> + +<p>That looks mixed, but Oswald was rather agitated himself, and that was +what he said.</p> + +<p>'We must think of something to do to get money,' Alice said, 'like we +used to do when we were treasure-seekers.'</p> + +<p>Presently the girls went away, and we heard them jawing in their room. +Just as Oswald was falling asleep the door opened, and a figure in white +came in and bent above his almost sleeping form. It said:</p> + +<p>'We've thought of something! We'll have a bazaar, like the people Miss +Blake's elder sister lives with did for the poor iron church.'</p> + +<p>The form glided away. Miss Blake is our housekeeper. Oswald could hear +that Dicky was already sleeping, so he turned over and went to sleep +himself. He dreamed of Goats, only they were as big as railway engines, +and would keep ringing the church bells, till Oswald awoke, and it was +the getting-up bell, and not a great Goat ringing it, but only Sarah as +usual.</p> + +<p>The idea of the bazaar seemed to please all of us.</p> + +<p>'We can ask all the people we know to it,' said Alice.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> + +<p>'And wear our best frocks, and sell the things at the stalls,' said +Dora.</p> + +<p>Dicky said we could have it in the big greenhouse now the plants were +out of it.</p> + +<p>'I will write a poem for the man, and say it at the bazaar,' Noël said. +'I know people say poetry at bazaars. The one Aunt Carrie took me to a +man said a piece about a cowboy.'</p> + +<p>H. O. said there ought to be lots of sweets, and then everyone would buy +them.</p> + +<p>Oswald said someone would have to ask my father, and he said he would do +it if the others liked. He did this because of an inside feeling in his +mind that he knew might come on at any moment. So he did. And 'Yes' was +the answer. And then the uncle gave Oswald a whole quid to buy things to +sell at the bazaar, and my father gave him ten bob for the same useful +and generous purpose, and said he was glad to see we were trying to do +good to others.</p> + +<p>When he said that the inside feeling in Oswald's mind began that he had +felt afraid would, some time, and he told my father about him and Dicky +moving the ladder, and about the hateful fives ball, and everything. And +my father was awfully<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> decent about it, so that Oswald was glad he had +told.</p> + +<p>The girls wrote the invitations to all our friends that very day. We +boys went down to look in the shops and see what we could buy for the +bazaar. And we went to ask how Mr. Augustus Victor Plunkett's arm was +getting on, and to see the Goat.</p> + +<p>The others liked the Goat almost as much as Oswald, and even Dicky +agreed that it was our clear duty to buy the Goat for the sake of poor +Mr. Plunkett.</p> + +<p>Because, as Oswald said, if it was worth one pound two and six, we could +easily sell it again for that, and we should have gained fifteen +shillings for the sufferer.</p> + +<p>So we bought the Goat, and changed the ten shillings to do it. The man +untied the other end of the Goat's rope, and Oswald took hold of it, and +said he hoped we were not robbing the man by taking his Goat from him +for such a low price. And he said:</p> + +<p>'Not at all, young gents. Don't you mention it. Pleased to oblige a +friend any day of the week.'</p> + +<p>So we started to take the Goat home. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> after about half a street he +would not come any more. He stopped still, and a lot of boys and people +came round, just as if they had never seen a Goat before. We were +beginning to feel quite uncomfortable, when Oswald remembered the Goat +liked cocoanut ice, so Noël went into a shop and got threepenn'orth, and +then the cheap animal consented to follow us home. So did the street +boys. The cocoanut ice was more for the money than usual, but not so +nice.</p> + +<p>My father was not pleased when he saw the Goat. But when Alice told him +it was for the bazaar, he laughed, and let us keep it in the stableyard.</p> + +<p>It got out early in the morning, and came right into the house, and +butted the cook in her own back-kitchen, a thing even Oswald himself +would have hesitated before doing. So that showed it was a brave Goat.</p> + +<p>The groom did not like the Goat, because it bit a hole in a sack of +corn, and then walked up it like up a mountain, and all the oats ran out +and got between the stones of the stableyard, and there was a row. But +we explained it was not for long, as the bazaar was in three days. And +we hurried to get things ready.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + +<p>We were each to have a stall. Dora took the refreshment stall. The uncle +made Miss Blake get all that ready.</p> + +<p>Alice had a stall for pincushions and brush-and-comb bags, and other +useless things that girls make with stuff and ribbons.</p> + +<p>Noël had a poetry stall, where you could pay twopence and get a piece of +poetry and a sweet wrapped up in it. We chose sugar almonds, because +they are not so sticky.</p> + +<p>H. O.'s stall was to be sweets, if he promised on his word of honour as +a Bastable only to eat one of each kind.</p> + +<p>Dicky wished to have a stall for mechanical toys and parts of clocks. He +has a great many parts of clocks, but the only mechanical toy was his +clockwork engine, that was broken ages ago, so he had to give it up, and +he couldn't think of anything else. So he settled to help Oswald, and +keep an eye on H. O.</p> + +<p>Oswald's stall was meant to be a stall for really useful things, but in +the end it was just a lumber stall for the things other people did not +want. But he did not mind, because the others agreed he should have the +entire selling of the Goat, and he racked his young brains to think how +to sell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> it in the most interesting and unusual way. And at last he saw +how, and he said:</p> + +<p>'He shall be a lottery, and we'll make people take tickets, and then +draw a secret number out of a hat, and whoever gets the right number +gets the Goat. I wish it was me.'</p> + +<p>'We ought to advertise it, though,' Dicky said. 'Have handbills printed, +and send out sandwich-men.'</p> + +<p>Oswald inquired at the printers in Greenwich, and handbills were an +awful price, and sandwich-men a luxury far beyond our means. So he went +home sadly; and then Alice thought of the printing-press. We got it out, +and cleaned it where the ink had been upset into it, and mended the +broken parts as well as we could, and got some more printers' ink, and +wrote the circular and printed it. It was:</p> + +<h4>SECRET LOTTERY.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Exceptionable and Rare Chance.</span><br /> +<i>An Object of Value—</i><br /> +</h4> + +<p>'It ought to be object of <i>virtue</i>,' said Dicky. 'I saw it in the old +iron and china and picture shop. It was a carved ivory ship, and there +was a ticket on it: "Rare Object of Virtue."'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + +<p>'The Goat's an object, certainly,' Alice said, 'and it's valuable. As +for virtue, I'm not so sure.'</p> + +<p>But Oswald thought the two V's looked well, and being virtuous is +different to being valuable; but, all the same, the Goat might be both +when you got to know him really well. So we put it in.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<h4> +SECRET LOTTERY.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Exceptionable and Rare Chance.</span><br /> +<i>An Object of Value and Virtue</i><br /> +</h4> + +<p>will be lotteried for on Saturday next, at four o'clock. Tickets +one or two shillings each, according to how many people want them. +The object is not disclosed till after the Lottery, but it cost a +lot of money, and is honestly worth three times as much. If you win +it, it is the same as winning money. Apply at Morden House, +Blackheath, at 3 o'clock next Saturday. Take tickets early to +prevent disappointment.</p></div> + +<p>We printed these, and though they looked a bit rum, we had not time to +do them again, so we went out about dusk and dropped them in people's +letter-boxes. Then next day Oswald, who is always very keen on doing the +thing well, got two baking-boards out of the kitchen and bored holes in +them with an auger I had, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> pasted paper on them, and did on them +with a paint-brush and ink the following lines:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><h4><span class="smcap">SECRET LOTTERY.</span></h4> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Object of Value and Virtue.</span></h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Tickets 1/- and 2/-.</i></p> + +<p class="center">If you win, it will be the same as winning money.</p> + +<p class="center">Lottery at Morden House, Blackheath.</p> + +<p class="center">Saturday at 4. Come at 3.</p></div> + +<p>And he slung the boards round his neck, and tied up his mouth in one of +those knitted comforters he despises so much at other times, and, +pulling a cap of father's over his bold ears, he got Dicky to let him +out of the side-door. And then the brave boy went right across the heath +and three times up and down the village, till those boys that followed +him and the Goat home went for him near the corner of Wemyss Road, and +he made a fight for it, taking off the boards and using them as shields. +But at last, being far outnumbered, which is no disgrace, he had to +chuck the boards and run for it.</p> + +<p>Saturday was fine. We had hung the greenhouse with evergreens and +paper roses that looked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> almost like real among the green, and Miss +Blake let us have some Chinesy-looking curtains to cover over the +shelves and staging with. And the gardener let us have a lot of azaleas +and things in pots, so that it was all very bowery and flowery.</p> + +<p>Alice's stall was the smartest looking, because Miss Blake had let her +have all the ribbons and things that were over from the other bazaar.</p> + +<p>H. O.'s stall was also nice—all on silver tea-trays, so as not to be +stickier than needful.</p> + +<p>The poetry stall had more flowers on it than any of the others, to make +up for the poetry looking so dull outside. Of course, you could not see +the sweet inside the packets till you opened them. Red azaleas are +prettier than poetry, I think. I think the tropic lands in 'Westward +Ho!' had great trees with flowers like that.</p> + +<p>We got the Goat into the stovehouse. He was to be kept a secret till the +very last. And by half-past two we were all ready, and very clean and +dressed. We had all looked out everything we thought anyone could want +to buy, and that we could spare, and some things we could not, and most +of these were on Oswald's table—among<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> others, several boxes of games +we had never cared about; some bags of marbles, which nobody plays now; +a lot of old books; a pair of braces with wool-work on them, that an +aunt once made for Oswald, and, of course, he couldn't wear them; some +bags of odd buttons for people who like sewing these things on; a lot of +foreign stamps, gardening tools, Dicky's engine, that won't go, and a +stuffed parrot, but he was moth-eaten.</p> + +<p>About three our friends began to come, Mrs. Leslie, and Lord Tottenham, +and Albert's uncle, and a lot of others. It was a very grand party, and +they admired the bazaar very much, and all bought things. Mrs. Leslie +bought the engine for ten shillings, though we told her honestly it +would never go again, and Albert's uncle bought the parrot, and would +not tell us what he wanted it for. The money was put on a blue dish, so +that everyone could see how it got on, and our hearts were full of joy +as we saw how much silver there was among the pennies, and two or three +gold pieces too. I know now how the man feels who holds the plate at the +door in church.</p> + +<p>Noël's poetry stall was much more paying than I thought it would be. I +believe nobody really likes poetry, and yet everyone pretends they do,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +either so as not to hurt Noël's feelings, or because they think +well-brought-up people ought to like poetry, even Noël's. Of course, +Macaulay and Kipling are different. I don't mind them so much myself.</p> + +<p>Noël wrote a lot of new poetry for the bazaar. It took up all his time, +and even then he had not enough new stuff to wrap up all the sugar +almonds in. So he made up with old poetry that he'd done before. +Albert's uncle got one of the new ones, and said it made him a proud +man. It was:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'How noble and good and kind you are</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To come to Victor A. Plunkett's Bazaar.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Please buy as much as you can bear,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For the sufferer needs all you can possibly spare.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I know you are sure to take his part,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Because you have such a noble heart.'</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p>Mrs. Leslie got:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'The rose is red, the violet's blue,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The lily's pale, and so are you.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Or would be if you had seen him fall</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Off the top of the ladder so tall.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Do buy as much as you can stand,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And lend the poor a helping hand.'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Lord Tottenham, though, only got one of the old ones, and it happened to +be the 'Wreck of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> the <i>Malabar</i>.' He was an admiral once. But he liked +it. He is a nice old gentleman, but people do say he is 'excentric.'</p> + +<p>Father got a poem that said:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Please turn your eyes round in their sockets,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And put both your hands in your pockets;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Your eyes will show you things so gay,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And I hope you'll find enough in your pockets to pay</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For the things you buy.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Good-bye!'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>And he laughed and seemed pleased; but when Mrs. Morrison, Albert's +mother, got that poem about the black beetle that was poisoned she was +not so pleased, and she said it was horrid, and made her flesh creep. +You know the poem. It says:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Oh, beetle, how I weep to see</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thee lying on thy poor back:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It is so very sad to see</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">You were so leggy and black.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I wish you were crawling about alive again,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But many people think this is nonsense and a shame.'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Noël <i>would</i> recite, no matter what we said, and he stood up on a chair, +and everyone, in their blind generousness, paid sixpence to hear him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +It was a long poem of his own about the Duke of Wellington, and it +began:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Hail, faithful leader of the brave band</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Who went to make Napoleon understand</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He couldn't have everything his own way.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We taught him this on Waterloo day.'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>I heard that much; but then he got so upset and frightened no one could +hear anything till the end, when it says:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'So praise the heroes of Waterloo,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And let us do our duty like they had to do.'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Everyone clapped very much, but Noël was so upset he nearly cried, and +Mrs. Leslie said:</p> + +<p>'Noël, I'm feeling as pale as a lily again! Take me round the garden to +recover myself.'</p> + +<p>She was as red as usual, but it saved Noël from making a young ass of +himself. And we got seventeen shillings and sixpence by his reciting. So +that was all right.</p> + +<p>We might as well not have sent out those circulars, because only the +people we had written to ourselves came. Of course, I don't count those +five street boys, the same Oswald had the sandwich-board fight with. +They came, and they walked round and looked at the things; but they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> had +no money to spend, it turned out, and only came to be disagreeable and +make fun. So Albert's uncle asked them if they did not think their +families would be lonely without them, and he and I saw them off at the +gate. Then they stood outside and made rude noises. And another stranger +came, and Oswald thought perhaps the circular was beginning to bear +fruit. But the stranger asked for the master of the house, and he was +shown in. Oswald was just shaking up the numbers in his hat for the +lottery of the Goat, and Alice and Dora were selling the tickets for +half a crown each to our visitors, and explaining the dreadful misery of +the poor man that all this trouble was being taken for, and we were all +enjoying ourselves very much, when Sarah came to say Master Oswald was +to go in to master's study at once. So he went, wondering what on earth +he could have been up to now. But he could not think of anything in +particular. But when his father said, 'Oswald, this gentleman is a +detective from Scotland Yard,' he was glad he had told about the fives +ball and the ladder, because he knew his father would now stand by him. +But he did wonder whether you could be sent to prison for leaving a +ladder in a slippery<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> place, and how long they would keep you there for +that crime.</p> + +<p>Then my father held out one of the fatal circulars, and said:</p> + +<p>'I suppose this is some of your work? Mr. Biggs here is bound in honour +to do his best to find out when people break the laws of the land. Now, +lotteries are illegal, and can be punished by law.'</p> + +<p>Oswald gloomily wondered how much the law could do to you. He said:</p> + +<p>'We didn't know, father.'</p> + +<p>Then his father said:</p> + +<p>'The best thing you can do is to tell this gentleman all about it.'</p> + +<p>So Oswald said:</p> + +<p>'Augustus Victor Plunkett fell off a ladder and broke his arm, and +perhaps it was our fault for meddling with the ladder at all. So we +wanted to do something to help him, and father said we might have a +bazaar. It is happening now, and we had three pounds two and sevenpence +last time I counted the bazaar.'</p> + +<p>'But what about the lottery?' said Mr. Biggs, who did not look as if he +would take Oswald to prison just then, as our young hero had feared.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> In +fact, he looked rather jolly. 'Is the prize money?'</p> + +<p>'No—oh no; only it's so valuable it's as good as winning money.'</p> + +<p>'Then it's only a raffle,' said Mr. Biggs; 'that's what it is, just a +plain raffle. What <i>is</i> the prize?'</p> + +<p>'Are we to be allowed to go on with it?' asked the wary Oswald.</p> + +<p>'Why, yes,' said Mr. Biggs; 'if it's not money, why not? What is the +valuable object?'</p> + +<p>'Come, Oswald,' said his father, when Oswald said nothing, 'what is the +object of <i>virtù</i>?'</p> + +<p>'I'd rather not say,' said Oswald, feeling very uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>Mr. Biggs said something about duty being duty, and my father said:</p> + +<p>'Come, Oswald, don't be a young duffer. I dare say it's nothing to be +ashamed of.'</p> + +<p>'I should think not indeed,' said Oswald, as his fond thoughts played +with that beautiful Goat.</p> + +<p>'Well, then?'</p> + +<p>'Well, sir'—Oswald spoke desperately, for he wondered his father had +been so patient so long, and saw that he wasn't going to go on +being<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>—'you see, the great thing is, nobody is to know it's a G—— I +mean, it's a secret. No one's to know what the prize is. Only when +you've won it, it will be revealed.'</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 425px;"> +<img src="images/gs02.jpg" width="425" height="600" alt="'"Here is your prize," said Oswald.'—Page 31." title="" /> +<span class="caption">'"Here is your prize," said Oswald.'—Page 31.</span> +</div> + +<p>'Well,' said my father, 'if Mr. Biggs will take a glass of wine with me, +we'll follow you down to the greenhouse, and he can see for himself.'</p> + +<p>Mr. Biggs said something about thanking father kindly, and about his +duty. And presently they came down to the greenhouse. Father did not +introduce Mr. Biggs to anyone—I suppose he forgot—but Oswald did while +father was talking to Mrs. Leslie. And Mr. Biggs made himself very +agreeable to all the ladies.</p> + +<p>Then we had the lottery. Everyone had tickets, and Alice asked Mr. Biggs +to buy one. She let him have it for a shilling, because it was the last, +and we all hoped he would win the Goat. He seemed quite sure now that +Oswald was not kidding, and that the prize was not money. Indeed, Oswald +went so far as to tell him privately that the prize was too big to put +in your pocket, and that if it was divided up it would be spoiled, which +is true of Goats, but not of money.</p> + + + +<p>Everyone was laughing and talking, and wondering anxiously whatever the +prize could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> possibly be. Oswald carried round the hat, and everyone +drew a number. The winning number was six hundred and sixty-six, and +Albert's uncle said afterwards it was a curious coincidence. I don't +know what it meant, but it made Mrs. Leslie laugh. When everyone had +drawn a number, Oswald rang the dinner-bell to command silence, and +there was a hush full of anxious expectation. Then Oswald said:</p> + +<p>'The prize number is six hundred and sixty-six. Who has it?'</p> + +<p>And Mr. Biggs took a step forward and held out his paper.</p> + +<p>'The prize is yours! I congratulate you,' said Oswald warmly.</p> + +<p>Then he went into the stovehouse, and hastily placing a wreath of paper +roses on the Goat's head, that Alice had got ready for the purpose, he +got out the Goat by secretly showing it a bit of cocoanut ice, and led +it by the same means to the feet of the happy winner.</p> + +<p>'Here is your prize,' said Oswald, with feelings of generous pride. 'I +am very glad you've got him. He'll be a comfort to you, and make up for +all the trouble you've had over our lottery—raffle, I mean.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> + +<p>And he placed the ungoated end of the rope in the unresisting hand of +the fortunate detective.</p> + +<p>Neither Oswald nor any of the rest of us has ever been able to make out +why everyone should have laughed so. But they did. They said the lottery +was the success of the afternoon. And the ladies kept on congratulating +Mr. Biggs.</p> + +<p>At last people began to go, and the detective, so unexpectedly made rich +beyond his wildest dreams, said he, too, must be going. He had tied the +Goat to the greenhouse door, and now he moved away. But we all cried +out:</p> + +<p>'You've forgotten your Goat!'</p> + +<p>'No, I haven't,' he said very earnestly; 'I shall never forget that Goat +to my dying hour. But I want to call on my aunt just close by, and I +couldn't very well take the Goat to see her.'</p> + +<p>'I don't see why not,' H. O. said; 'it's a very nice Goat.'</p> + +<p>'She's frightened of them,' said he. 'One ran at her when she was a +little girl. But if you will allow me, sir'—and he winked at my father, +which is not manners—'if you'll allow me, I'll call in for the Goat on +my way to the station.'</p> + +<p>We got five pounds thirteen and fivepence by the bazaar and the raffle. +We should have had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> another ten shillings from father, but he had to +give it to Mr. Biggs, because we had put him to the trouble of coming +all the way from Scotland Yard, because he thought our circular was from +some hardened criminal wishing to cheat his trustful fellow-creatures. +We took the money to Augustus Victor Plunkett next morning, and I tell +you he <i>was</i> pleased.</p> + +<p>We waited till long after dark for the detective to return for his rich +prize. But he never came. I hope he was not set upon and stabbed in some +dark alley. If he is alive, and not imprisoned, I can't see why he +didn't come back. I often think anxiously of him. Because, of course, +detectives have many enemies among felons, who think nothing of stabbing +people in the back, so that being murdered in a dark alley is a thing +all detectives are constantly liable to.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_RUNAWAYS" id="THE_RUNAWAYS"></a>THE RUNAWAYS</h2> + + +<p>It was after we had had the measles, that fell and blighting disorder +which we got from Alice picking up five deeply infected shillings that a +bemeasled family had wrapped in a bit of paper to pay the doctor with +and then carelessly dropped in the street. Alice held the packet hotly +in her muff all through a charity concert. Hence these tears, as it says +in Virgil. And if you have ever had measles you will know that this is +not what is called figuring speech, because your eyes do run like mad +all the time.</p> + +<p>When we were unmeasled again we were sent to stay at Lymchurch with a +Miss Sandal, and her motto was plain living and high thinking. She had a +brother, and his motto was the same, and it was his charity concert that +Alice held the fatal shillings in her muff throughout of. Later on he +was giving tracts to a bricklayer, and fell off a scaffold in his giddy +earnestness, and Miss Sandal had to go and nurse him. So the six of us +stayed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> in the plain living, high thinking house by ourselves, and old +Mrs. Beale from the village came in every day and did the housework. She +was of humble birth, but was a true lady in minding her own affairs, +which is what a great many ladies do not know how to do at all. We had +no lessons to do, and we were thus free to attend to any adventures +which came along. Adventures are the real business of life. The rest is +only in-betweenness—what Albert's uncle calls padding. He is an author.</p> + +<p>Miss Sandal's house was very plain and clean, with lots of white paint, +and very difficult to play in. So we were out a good deal. It was +seaside, so, of course, there was the beach, and besides that the +marsh—big green fields with sheep all about, and wet dykes with sedge +growing, and mud, and eels in the mud, and winding white roads that all +look the same, and all very interesting, as though they might lead to +almost anything that you didn't expect. Really, of course, they lead to +Ashford and Romney and Ivychurch, and real live places like that. But +they don't look it.</p> + +<p>The day when what I am going to tell you about happened, we were all +leaning on the stone wall looking at the pigs. The pigman is a great +friend<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> of ours—all except H. O., who is my youngest brother. His name +is Horace Octavius, and if you want to know why we called him H. O. you +had better read 'The Treasure Seekers' and find out. He had gone to tea +with the schoolmaster's son—a hateful kid.</p> + +<p>'Isn't that the boy you're always fighting?' Dora asked when H. O. said +he was going.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said H. O., 'but, then, he keeps rabbits.'</p> + +<p>So then we understood and let him go.</p> + +<p>Well, the rest of us were gazing fondly on the pigs, and two soldiers +came by.</p> + +<p>We asked them where they were off to.</p> + +<p>They told us to mind our own business, which is not manners, even if you +are a soldier on private affairs.</p> + +<p>'Oh, all right,' said Oswald, who is the eldest. And he advised the +soldiers to keep their hair on. The little they had was cut very short.</p> + +<p>'I expect they're scouts or something,' said Dicky; 'it's a field-day, +or a sham-fight, or something, as likely as not.'</p> + +<p>'Let's go after them and see,' said Oswald, ever prompt in his +decidings. So we did.</p> + +<p>We ran a bit at first, so as not to let the soldiers have too much of a +lead. Their red coats made it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> quite easy to keep them in sight on the +winding white marsh road. But we did not catch them up: they seemed to +go faster and faster. So we ran a little bit more every now and then, +and we went quite a long way after them. But they didn't meet any of +their officers or regiments or things, and we began to think that +perchance we were engaged in the disheartening chase of the wild goose. +This has sometimes occurred.</p> + +<p>There is a ruined church about two miles from Lymchurch, and when we got +close to that we lost sight of the red coats, so we stopped on the +little bridge that is near there to reconnoitre.</p> + +<p>The soldiers had vanished.</p> + +<p>'Well, here's a go!' said Dicky.</p> + +<p>'It <i>is</i> a wild-goose chase,' said Noël. 'I shall make a piece of poetry +about it. I shall call the title the "Vanishing Reds, or, the Soldiers +that were not when you got there."'</p> + +<p>'You shut up!' said Oswald, whose eagle eye had caught a glimpse of +scarlet through the arch of the ruin.</p> + +<p>None of the others had seen this. Perhaps you will think I do not say +enough about Oswald's quickness of sight, so I had better tell you that +is only because Oswald is me, and very modest. At<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> least, he tries to +be, because he knows it is what a true gentleman ought to.</p> + +<p>'They're in the ruins,' he went on. 'I expect they're going to have an +easy and a pipe—out of the wind.'</p> + +<p>'I think it's very mysterious,' said Noël. 'I shouldn't wonder if +they're going to dig for buried treasure. Let's go and see.'</p> + +<p>'No,' said Oswald, who, though modest, is thoughtful. 'If we do they'll +stop digging, or whatever they're doing. When they've gone away, we'll +go and see if the ground is scratched about.'</p> + +<p>So we delayed where we were, but we saw no more scarlet.</p> + +<p>In a little while a dull-looking man in brown came by on a bicycle. He +stopped and got off.</p> + +<p>'Seen a couple of Tommies about here, my lad?' he said to Oswald.</p> + +<p>Oswald does not like being called anybody's lad, especially that kind of +man's; but he did not want to spoil the review, or field-day, or +sham-fight, or whatever it might be, so he said:</p> + +<p>'Yes; they're up in the ruins.'</p> + +<p>'You don't say so!' said the man. 'In uniform, I suppose? Yes, of +course, or you wouldn't have known they were soldiers. Silly cuckoos!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> + +<p>He wheeled his bicycle up the rough lane that leads to the old ruin.</p> + +<p>'It can't be buried treasure,' said Dicky.</p> + +<p>'I don't care if it is,' said Oswald. 'We'll see what's happening. I +don't mind spoiling <i>his</i> sport. "My ladding" me like that!'</p> + +<p>So we followed the man with the bicycle. It was leaning against the +churchyard gate when we got there. The man off it was going up to the +ruin, and we went after him.</p> + +<p>He did not call out to the soldiers, and we thought that odd; but it +didn't make us think where it might have made us if we had had any +sense. He just went creeping about, looking behind walls and inside +arches, as though he was playing at hide-and-seek. There is a mound in +the middle of the ruin, where stones and things have fallen during dark +ages, and the grass has grown all over them. We stood on the mound, and +watched the bicycling stranger nosing about like a ferret.</p> + +<p>There is an archway in that ruin, and a flight of steps goes down—only +five steps—and then it is all stopped up with fallen stones and earth. +The stranger stopped at last at this arch, and stooped forward with his +hands on his knees, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> looked through the arch and down the steps. +Then he said suddenly and fiercely:</p> + +<p>'Come out of it, will you?'</p> + +<p>And the soldiers came. I wouldn't have. They were two to his one. They +came cringing out like beaten dogs. The brown man made a sort of bound, +and next minute the two soldiers were handcuffed together, and he was +driving them before him like sheep.</p> + +<p>'Back you go the same way as what you come,' he said.</p> + +<p>And then Oswald saw the soldiers' faces, and he will never forget what +they looked like.</p> + +<p>He jumped off the mound, and ran to where they were.</p> + +<p>'What have they done?' he asked the handcuffer.</p> + +<p>'Deserters,' said the man. 'Thanks to you, my lad, I got 'em as easy as +kiss your hand.'</p> + +<p>Then one of the soldiers looked at Oswald. He was not very old—about as +big as a fifth-form boy. And Oswald answered what the soldier looked at +him.</p> + +<p>'I'm <i>not</i> a sneak,' he said. 'I wouldn't have told if I'd known. If +you'd told me, instead of saying to mind my own business I'd have helped +you.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p> + +<p>The soldier didn't answer, but the bicycle man did.</p> + +<p>'Then you'd 'a helped yourself into the stone jug, my lad,' said he. +'Help a dirty deserter? You're young enough to know better. Come along, +you rubbish!'</p> + +<p>And they went.</p> + +<p>When they were gone Dicky said:</p> + +<p>'It's very rum. I hate cowards. And deserters are cowards. I don't see +why we feel like this.'</p> + +<p>Alice and Dora and Noël were now discovered to be in tears.</p> + +<p>'Of course we did right to tell. Only when the soldier looked at me ...' +said Oswald.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Dicky, 'that's just it.'</p> + +<p>In deepest gloom the party retraced its steps.</p> + +<p>As we went, Dora said with sniffs:</p> + +<p>'I suppose it was the bicycle man's duty.'</p> + +<p>'Of course,' said Oswald, 'but it wasn't <i>our</i> duty. And I jolly well +wish we hadn't!'</p> + +<p>'And such a beautiful day, too,' said Noël, sniffing in his turn.</p> + +<p>It <i>was</i> beautiful. The afternoon had been dull, but now the sun was +shining flat across the marshes, making everything look as if it had +been covered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> all over with the best gold-leaf—marsh and trees, and +roofs and stacks, and everything.</p> + +<p>That evening Noël wrote a poem about it all. It began:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Poor soldiers, why did you run away</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On such a beautiful, beautiful day?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">If you had run away in the rain,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Perhaps they would never have found you again,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Because then Oswald would not have been there</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To show the hunter the way to your lair.'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Oswald would have licked him for that—only Noël is not very strong, and +there is something about poets, however young, that makes it rather like +licking a girl. So Oswald did not even say what he thought—Noël cries +at the least thing. Oswald only said, 'Let's go down to our pigman.'</p> + +<p>And we all went except Noël. He never will go anywhere when in the midst +of making poetry. And Alice stayed with him, and H. O. was in bed.</p> + +<p>We told the pigman all about the deserters, and about our miserable +inside remorsefulness, and he said he knew just how we felt.</p> + +<p>'There's quite enough agin a pore chap that's made a bolt of it without +the rest of us a-joinin' in,' he said. 'Not as I holds with +deserting—mean trick I call it. But all the same, when the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> odds is +that heavy—thousands to one—all the army and the navy and the pleece +and Parliament and the King agin one pore silly bloke. You wouldn't 'a +done it a purpose, I lay.'</p> + +<p>'Not much,' said Oswald in gloomy dejection. 'Have a peppermint? They're +extra strong.'</p> + +<p>When the pigman had had one he went on talking.</p> + +<p>'There's a young chap, now,' he said, 'broke out of Dover Gaol. I 'appen +to know what he's in for—nicked a four-pound cake, he did, off of a +counter at a pastrycook's—Jenner's it was, in the High Street—part +hunger, part playfulness. But even if I wasn't to know what he was +lagged for, do you think I'd put the coppers on to him? Not me. Give a +fellow a chance is what I say. But don't you grizzle about them there +Tommies. P'raps it'll be the making of 'em in the end. A slack-baked +pair as ever wore boots. <i>I</i> seed 'em. Only next time just you take and +think afore you pipes up—see?'</p> + +<p>We said that we saw, and that next time we would do as he said. And we +went home again. As we went Dora said:</p> + +<p>'But supposing it was a cruel murderer that had got loose, you ought to +tell then.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Dicky; 'but before you do tell you ought to be jolly sure it +<i>is</i> a cruel murderer, and not a chap that's taken a cake because he was +hungry. How do you know what <i>you'd</i> do if you were hungry enough?'</p> + +<p>'I shouldn't steal,' said Dora.</p> + +<p>'I'm not so sure,' said Dicky; and they argued about it all the way +home, and before we got in it began to rain in torrents.</p> + +<p>Conversations about food always make you feel as though it was a very +long time since you had had anything to eat. Mrs. Beale had gone home, +of course, but we went into the larder. It is a generous larder. No +lock, only a big wooden latch that pulls up with a string, like in Red +Riding Hood. And the floor is clean damp red brick. It makes ginger-nuts +soft if you put the bag on this floor. There was half a rhubarb pie, and +there were meat turnovers with potato in them. Mrs. Beale is a +thoughtful person, and I know many people much richer that are not +nearly so thoughtful.</p> + +<p>We had a comfortable feast at the kitchen table, standing up to eat, +like horses.</p> + +<p>Then we had to let Noël read us his piece of poetry about the soldier; +he wouldn't have slept if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> we hadn't. It was very long, and it began as +I have said, and ended up:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Poor soldiers, learn a lesson from to-day,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It is very wrong to run away;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It is better to stay</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And serve your King and Country—hurray!'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Noël owned that Hooray sounded too cheerful for the end of a poem about +soldiers with faces like theirs were.</p> + +<p>'But I didn't mean it about the soldiers. It was about the King and +Country. Half a sec. I'll put that in.' So he wrote:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'P.S.—I do not mean to be unkind,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Poor soldiers, to you, so never mind.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When I say hurray or sing,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It is because I am thinking of my Country and my King.'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>'You can't sing Hooray,' said Dicky. So Noël went to bed singing it, +which was better than arguing about it, Alice said. But it was noisier +as well.</p> + +<p>Oswald and Dicky always went round the house to see that all the doors +were bolted and the shutters up. This is what the head of the house +always does, and Oswald is the head when father is not there. There are +no shutters upstairs, only curtains. The White House, which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> is Miss +Sandal's house's name, is not in the village, but 'quite a step' from +it, as Mrs. Beale says. It is the first house you come to as you come +along the road from the marsh.</p> + +<p>We used to look in the cupboard and under the beds for burglars every +night. The girls liked us to, though they wouldn't look themselves, and +I don't know that it was much good. If there <i>is</i> a burglar, it's +sometimes safer for you not to know it. Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis +folly to find a burglar, especially as he would be armed to the teeth as +likely as not. However, there is not much worth being a burglar about, +in houses where the motto is plain living and high thinking, and there +never was anyone in the cupboards or under the beds.</p> + +<p>Then we put out all the lights very carefully in +case of fire—all except Noël's. He does not like the dark. He says +there are things in it that go away when you light a candle, and however +much you talk reason and science to him, it makes no difference at all.</p> + +<p>Then we got into our pyjamas. It was Oswald who asked father to let us +have pyjamas instead of nightgowns; they are so convenient for dressing +up when you wish to act clowns, or West<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> Indian planters, or any +loose-clothed characters. Then we got into bed, and then we got into +sleep.</p> + +<p>Little did the unconscious sleepers reck of the strange destiny that was +advancing on them by leaps and bounds through the silent watches of the +night.</p> + +<p>Although we were asleep, the rain went on raining just the same, and the +wind blowing across the marsh with the fury of a maniac who has been +transformed into a blacksmith's bellows. And through the night, and the +wind, and the rain, our dreadful destiny drew nearer and nearer. I wish +this to sound as if something was going to happen, and I hope it does. I +hope the reader's heart is now standing still with apprehensionness on +our account, but I do not want it to stop altogether, so I will tell you +that we were not all going to be murdered in our beds, or pass +peacefully away in our sleeps with angel-like smiles on our young and +beautiful faces. Not at all. What really happened was this. Some time +must have elapsed between our closing our eyes in serene slumber and the +following narrative:</p> + +<p>Oswald was awakened by Dicky thumping him hard in the back, and saying +in accents of terror<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>—at least, he says not, but Oswald knows what they +sounded like:</p> + +<p>'What's that?'</p> + +<p>Oswald reared up on his elbow and listened, but there was nothing to +listen to except Dicky breathing like a grampus, and the giggle-guggle +of the rain-water overflowing from the tub under the window.</p> + +<p>'What's what?' said Oswald.</p> + +<p>He did not speak furiously, as many elder brothers would have done when +suddenly awakened by thumps.</p> + +<p>'<i>That!</i>' said Dicky. 'There it is again!'</p> + +<p>And this time, certainly, there it was, and it sounded like somebody +hammering on the front-door with his fists. There is no knocker to the +plain-living, high-thinking house.</p> + +<p>Oswald controlled his fears, if he had any (I am not going to say +whether he had or hadn't), and struck a match. Before the candle had had +time to settle its flame after the first flare up that doesn't last, the +row began again.</p> + +<p>Oswald's nerves are of iron, but it would have given anybody a start to +see two white figures in the doorway, yet so it was. They proved to be +Alice and Dora in their nighties; but no one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> could blame anyone for not +being sure of this at first.</p> + +<p>'Is it burglars?' said Dora; and her teeth did chatter, whatever she may +say.</p> + +<p>'<i>I</i> think it's Mrs. Beale,' said Alice. 'I expect she's forgotten the +key.'</p> + +<p>Oswald pulled his watch out from under his pillow.</p> + +<p>'It's half-past one,' he said.</p> + +<p>And then the knocking began again. So the intrepid Oswald went to the +landing window that is over the front-door. The others went too. And he +opened the window in his pyjamas and said, 'Who's there?'</p> + +<p>There was the scraping sound of boots on the doorstep, as somebody down +there stepped back.</p> + +<p>'Is this the way to Ashford?' said the voice of a man.</p> + +<p>'Ashford's thirteen miles off,' said Oswald. 'You get on to the Dover +road.'</p> + +<p>'I don't want to get on the Dover road,' said the voice; 'I've had +enough of Dover.'</p> + +<p>A thrill ran through every heart. We all told each other so afterwards.</p> + +<p>'Well,' said Dicky, 'Ashford's thirteen miles——'</p> + +<p>'Anybody but you in the house?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Say we've got men and dogs and guns,' whispered Dora.</p> + +<p>'There are six of us,' said Oswald, 'all armed to the teeth.'</p> + +<p>The stranger laughed.</p> + +<p>'I'm not a burglar,' he said; 'I've lost my way, that's all. I thought I +should have got to Ashford before dusk, but I missed the way. I've been +wandering all over these marshes ever since, in the rain. I expect +they're out after me now, but I'm dead beat. I can't go on. Won't you +let me in? I can sit by the kitchen fire.'</p> + +<p>Oswald drew his head back through the window, and a hasty council took +place on the landing.</p> + +<p>'It <i>is</i>,' said Alice.</p> + +<p>'You heard what he said about Dover, and their being out after him?'</p> + +<p>'I say, you might let a chap in,' said the voice outside. 'I'm perfectly +respectable. Upon my word I am.'</p> + +<p>'I wish he hadn't said that,' whispered Dora. [** ']Such a dreadful +story! And we didn't even ask him if he was.'</p> + +<p>'He sounds very tired,' said Alice.</p> + +<p>'And wet,' said Oswald. 'I heard the water squelching in his boots.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> + +<p>'What'll happen if we don't let him in?' said Dicky.</p> + +<p>'He'll be caught and taken back, like the soldiers,' said Oswald. 'Look +here, I'm going to chance it. You others can lock yourselves into your +rooms if you're frightened.'</p> + +<p>Then Oswald put his brave young head out of the window, and the rain +dripped on to the back of his bold young neck off the roof, like a +watering-pot on to a beautiful flower, and he said:</p> + +<p>'There's a porch to the side door. Just scoot round there and shelter, +and I'll come down in half a sec.'</p> + +<p>A resolve made in early youth never to face midnight encounters without +boots was the cause of this delay. Oswald and Dicky got into their boots +and jackets, and told the girls to go back to bed.</p> + +<p>Then we went down and opened the front-door. The stranger had heard the +bolts go, and he was outside waiting.</p> + +<p>We held the door open politely, and he stepped in and began at once to +drip heavily on the doormat.</p> + +<p>We shut the door. He looked wildly round.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Be calm! You are safe,' said Oswald.</p> + +<p>'Thanks,' said the stranger; 'I see I am.'</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 429px;"> +<img src="images/gs03.jpg" width="429" height="600" alt="'"Come into the kitchen," said Oswald, "you can drip +there quite comfortably."'—Page 52" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'"Come into the kitchen," said Oswald, "you can drip +there quite comfortably."'—Page 52</span> +</div> + +<p>All our hearts were full of pity for the outcast. He was, indeed, a +spectacle to shock the benevolent. Even the prison people, Oswald +thought, or the man he took the cake from, would have felt their +fierceness fade if they could have seen him then. He was not in prison +dress. Oswald would have rather liked to see that, but he remembered +that it was safer for the man that he had found means to rid himself of +the felon's garb. He wore a gray knickerbocker suit, covered with mud. +The lining of his hat must have been blue, and it had run down his face +in streaks like the gentleman in Mr. Kipling's story. He was wetter than +I have ever seen anyone out of a bath or the sea.</p> + +<p>'Come into the kitchen,' said Oswald; 'you can drip there quite +comfortably. The floor is brick.'</p> + +<p>He followed us into the kitchen.</p> + +<p>'Are you kids alone in the house?' he said.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Oswald.</p> + +<p>'Then I suppose it's no good asking if you've got a drop of brandy?'</p> + +<p>'Not a bit,' said Dicky.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Whisky would do, or gin—any sort of spirit,' said the smeared stranger +hopefully.</p> + +<p>'Not a drop,' said Oswald; 'at least, I'll look in the medicine +cupboard. And, I say, take off your things and put them in the sink. +I'll get you some other clothes. There are some of Mr. Sandal's.'</p> + +<p>The man hesitated.</p> + +<p>'It'll make a better disguise,' said Oswald in a low, significant +whisper, and turned tactfully away, so as not to make the stranger feel +awkward.</p> + +<p>Dicky got the clothes, and the stranger changed in the back-kitchen. The +only spirit Oswald could find was spirits of salts, which the stranger +said was poison, and spirits of camphor. Oswald gave him some of this on +sugar; he knows it is a good thing when you have taken cold. The +stranger hated it. He changed in the back-kitchen, and while he was +doing it we tried to light the kitchen fire, but it would not; so Dicky +went up to ask Alice for some matches, and finding the girls had not +gone to bed as ordered, but contrarily dressed themselves, he let them +come down. And then, of course, there was no reason why they should not +light the fire. They did.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> + +<p>When the unfortunate one came out of the back-kitchen he looked quite a +decent chap, though still blue in patches from the lining of his hat. +Dicky whispered to me what a difference clothes made.</p> + +<p>He made a polite though jerky bow to the girls, and Dora said:</p> + +<p>'How do you do? I hope you are quite well.'</p> + +<p>'As well as can be expected,' replied the now tidy outcast, 'considering +what I've gone through.'</p> + +<p>'Tea or cocoa?' said Dora. 'And do you like cheese or cold bacon best?'</p> + +<p>'I'll leave it to you entirely,' he answered. And he added, without a +pause, 'I'm sure I can trust you.'</p> + +<p>'Indeed you can,' said Dora earnestly; 'you needn't be a bit afraid. +You're perfectly safe with us.'</p> + +<p>He opened his eyes at this.</p> + +<p>'He didn't expect such kindness,' Alice whispered. 'Poor man! he's quite +overcome.'</p> + +<p>We gave him cocoa, and cheese, and bacon, and butter and bread, and he +ate a great deal, with his feet in Mr. Sandal's all-wool boots on the +kitchen fender.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p> + +<p>The girls wrung the water out of his clothes, and hung them on the +clothes-horse on the other side of the fire.</p> + +<p>'I'm sure I'm very much obliged to you,' he said; 'real charity I call +this. I shan't forget it, I assure you. I ought to apologise for +knocking you up like this, but I'd been hours tramping through this +precious marsh of yours wet to the skin, and not a morsel of food since +mid-day. And yours was the first light I'd seen for a couple of hours.'</p> + +<p>'I'm very glad it <i>was</i> us you knocked up,' said Alice.</p> + +<p>'So am I,' said he; 'I might have knocked at a great many doors before I +got such a welcome. I'm quite aware of that.'</p> + +<p>He spoke all right, not like a labouring man; but it wasn't a +gentleman's voice, and he seemed to end his sentences off short at the +end, as though he had it on the tip of his tongue to say 'Miss' or +'Sir.'</p> + +<p>Oswald thought how terrible it must be to be out alone in the rain and +the dark, with the police after you, and no one to be kind to you if you +knocked at their doors.</p> + +<p>'You must have had an awful day,' he said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I believe you,' said the stranger, cutting himself more bacon. 'Thank +you, miss (he really did say it that time), just half a cup if you don't +mind. I believe you! I never want to have such a day again, I can tell +you. I took one or two little things in the morning, but I wasn't in the +mood or something. You know how it is sometimes.'</p> + +<p>'I can fancy it,' said Alice.</p> + +<p>'And then the afternoon clouded over. It cleared up at sunset, you +remember, but then it was too late. And then the rain came on. Not half! +My word! I've been in a ditch. Thought my last hour had come, I tell +you. Only got out by the skin of my teeth. Got rid of my whole outfit. +There's a nice thing to happen to a young fellow! Upon my Sam, it's +enough to make a chap swear he'll never take another thing as long as he +lives.'</p> + +<p>'I hope you never will,' said Dora earnestly; 'it doesn't pay, you +know.'</p> + +<p>'Upon my word, that's nearly true, though I don't know how <i>you</i> know,' +said the stranger, beginning on the cheese and pickles.</p> + +<p>'I wish,' Dora was beginning, but Oswald interrupted. He did not think +it was fair to preach at the man.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + +<p>'So you lost your outfit in the ditch,' he said; 'and how did you get +those clothes?'</p> + +<p>He pointed to the steaming gray suit.</p> + +<p>'Oh,' replied the stranger, 'the usual way.'</p> + +<p>Oswald was too polite to ask what was the usual way of getting a gray +suit to replace a prison outfit. He was afraid the usual way was the way +the four-pound cake had been got.</p> + +<p>Alice looked at me helplessly. I knew just how she felt.</p> + +<p>Harbouring a criminal when people are 'out after him' gives you a very +chilly feeling in the waistcoat—or, if in pyjamas, in the part that the +plaited cotton cord goes round. By the greatest good luck there were a +few of the extra-strong peppermints left. We had two each, and felt +better.</p> + +<p>The girls put the sheets off Oswald's bed on to the bed Miss Sandal used +to sleep in when not in London nursing the shattered bones of her +tract-distributing brother.</p> + +<p>'If you will go to bed now,' Oswald said to the stranger, 'we will wake +you in good time. And you may sleep as sound as you like. We'll wake you +all right.'</p> + +<p>'You might wake me about eight,' he said;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> 'I ought to be getting on. +I'm sure I don't know what to say in return for the very handsome +reception you've given me. Good-night to you all, I'm sure.'</p> + +<p>'Good-night,' said everyone. And Dora added, 'Don't you bother. While +you're asleep we'll think what's best to be done.'</p> + +<p>'Don't <i>you</i> bother,' said the stranger, and he absently glanced at his +own clothes. 'What's big enough to get out of's big enough to get into.'</p> + +<p>Then he took the candle, and Dicky showed him to his room.</p> + +<p>'What's big enough to get out of,' repeated Alice. 'Surely he doesn't +mean to creep back into prison, and pretend he was there all the time, +only they didn't notice him?'</p> + +<p>'Well, what are we to do?' asked Dicky, rejoining the rest of us. 'He +told me the dark room at Dover was a disgrace. Poor chap!'</p> + +<p>'We must invent a disguise,' said Dora.</p> + +<p>'Let's pretend he's our aunt, and dress him up—like in "Hard Cash,"' +said Alice.</p> + +<p>It was now three o'clock, but no one was sleepy. No one wanted to go to +sleep at all till we had taken our candles up into the attic and +rummaged through Miss Sandal's trunks, and found a complete<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> disguise +exactly suited to an aunt. We had everything—dress, cloak, bonnet, +veil, gloves, petticoats, and even boots, though we knew all the time, +in our hearts, that these were far too small. We put all ready on the +parlour sofa, and then at last we began to feel in our eyes and ears and +jaws how late it was. So we went back to bed. Alice said she knew how to +wake exact to the minute, and we had known her do it before, so we +trusted her, and agreed that she was to wake us at six.</p> + +<p>But, alas! Alice had deemed herself cleverer than she was, by long +chalks, and it was not her that woke us.</p> + +<p>We were aroused from deep slumber by the voice of Mrs. Beale.</p> + +<p>'Hi!' it remarked,'wake up, young gentlemen! It's gone the half after +nine, and your gentleman friend's up and dressed and a-waiting for his +breakfast.'</p> + +<p>We sprang up.</p> + +<p>'I say, Mrs. Beale,' cried Oswald, who never even in sleep quite loses +his presence of mind, 'don't let on to anyone that we've got a visitor.'</p> + +<p>She went away laughing. I suppose she thought it was some silly +play-secret. She little knew.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> + +<p>We found the stranger looking out of the window.</p> + +<p>'I wouldn't do that,' said Dora softly; 'it isn't safe. Suppose someone +saw you?'</p> + +<p>'Well,' said he, 'suppose they did?'</p> + +<p>'They might take you, you know,' said Dora; 'it's done in a minute. We +saw two poor men taken yesterday.'</p> + +<p>Her voice trembled at the gloomy recollection.</p> + +<p>'Let 'em take me,' said the man who wore the clothes of the plain-living +and high-thinking Mr. Sandal; '<i>I</i> don't mind so long as my ugly mug +don't break the camera!'</p> + +<p>'We want to save you,' Dora was beginning; but Oswald, far-sighted +beyond his years, felt a hot redness spread over his youthful ears and +right down his neck. He said:</p> + +<p>'Please, what were you doing in Dover? And what did you take yesterday?'</p> + +<p>'I was in Dover on business,' said the man, 'and what I took was Hythe +Church and Burmarsh Church, and——'</p> + +<p>'Then you didn't steal a cake and get put into Dover Gaol, and break +loose, and——' said Dicky, though I kicked him as a sign not to.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> + +<p>'<i>Me?</i>' said our friend. 'Not exactly!'</p> + +<p>'Then, <i>what</i> are you? If you're not that poor escaped thief, what are +you?' asked Dora fiercely, before Oswald could stop her.</p> + +<p>'I'm a photographer, miss,' said he—'a travelling photographer.'</p> + +<p>Then slowly but surely he saw it all, and I thought he would never have +done laughing.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>'Breakfast is getting cold,' said Oswald.</p> + +<p>'So it is,' said our guest. 'Lordy, what a go! This'll be something to +talk about between friends for many a year.'</p> + +<p>'No,' said Alice suddenly; 'we thought you were a runaway thief, and we +wanted to help you whatever you were.' She pointed to the sofa, where +the whole costume of the untrue aunt was lying in simple completeness. +'And you're in honour bound never to tell a soul. Think,' she added in +persuading tones—'think of the cold bacon and the cheese, and all those +pickles you had, and the fire and the cocoa, and us being up all night, +and the dry all-wool boots.'</p> + +<p>'Say no more, miss,' said the photographer (for such he indeed was) +nobly. 'Your will is my law; I won't never breathe a word.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> + +<p>And he sat down to the ham and eggs as though it was weeks since he had +tasted bacon.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>But we found out afterwards he went straight up to the Ship, and told +everybody all about it. I wonder whether all photographers are +dishonourable and ungrateful. Oswald hopes they are not, but he cannot +feel at all sure.</p> + +<p>Lots of people chaffed us about it afterwards, but the pigman said we +were jolly straight young Britons, and it is something to be called that +by a man you really respect. It doesn't matter so much what the other +people say—the people you don't really care about.</p> + +<p>When we told our Indian uncle about it he said, 'Nonsense! you ought +never to try and shield a criminal.' But that was not at all the way we +felt about it at the time when the criminal was there (or we thought he +was), all wet, and hunted, and miserable, with people 'out after him.' +He meant his friends who were expecting him, but we thought he meant +police. It is very hard sometimes to know exactly what is right. If what +<i>feels</i> right <i>isn't</i> right, how are you to know, I wonder.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The only comforting thing about it all is that we heard next day that +the soldiers had got away from the brown bicycle beast after all. I +suppose it came home to them suddenly that they <i>were</i> two to one, and +they shoved him into a ditch and got away. They were never caught; I am +very glad. And I suppose <i>that's</i> wrong too—so many things are. But I +<i>am</i>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_ARSENICATORS" id="THE_ARSENICATORS"></a>THE ARSENICATORS</h2> + +<h3>A TALE OF CRIME</h3> + + +<p>It was Mrs. Beale who put it into our heads that Miss Sandal lived plain +because she was poor. We knew she thought high, because that is what you +jolly well have to do if you are a vegetationist and an all-wooler, and +those sort of things.</p> + +<p>And we tried to get money for her, like we had once tried to do for +ourselves. And we succeeded by means that have been told alone in +another place in getting two golden pounds.</p> + +<p>Then, of course, we began to wonder what we had better do with the two +pounds now we had got them.</p> + +<p>'Put them in the savings-bank,' Dora said.</p> + +<p>Alice said:</p> + +<p>'Why, when we could have them to look at?'</p> + +<p>Noël thought we ought to buy her something beautiful to adorn Miss +Sandal's bare dwelling.</p> + +<p>H. O. thought we might spend it on nice<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> tinned and potted things from +the stores, to make the plain living and high thinking go down better.</p> + +<p>But Oswald knew that, however nice the presents are that other people +buy for you, it is really more satisfying to have the chink to spend +exactly as you like.</p> + +<p>Then Dicky said:</p> + +<p>'I don't believe in letting money lie idle. Father always says it's bad +business.'</p> + +<p>'They give interest at the bank, don't they?' Dora said.</p> + +<p>'Yes; tuppence a year, or some rot like that! We ought to go into trade +with it, and try to make more of it. That's what we ought to do.'</p> + +<p>'If it's Miss Sandal's money, do you think we ought to do anything with +it without asking her?'</p> + +<p>'It isn't hers till she's got it, and it is hers because it's not ours +to spend. I think we're—what is it?—<i>in loco parentis</i> to that two +quid, because anyone can see poor Miss Sandal doesn't know how to manage +her money. And it will be much better if we give her ten pounds than +just two.'</p> + +<p>This is how Dicky argued.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> + +<p>We were sitting on the sands when this council took place, and Alice +said, 'Suppose we bought a shrimping-net, and sold shrimps from our +window in red handkerchiefs and white French caps.' But we asked her how +she would like going into the sea nearly up to her neck in all weathers, +and she had to own she had not thought of that. Besides, shrimps are so +beastly cheap—more than you can eat for twopence.</p> + +<p>The conversation was not interesting to anyone but Dicky, because we did +not then believe we could do it, though later we thought differently. +But I dare say we should have gone on with it just out of politeness to +him, only at this moment we saw a coastguard, who is a great friend of +ours, waving to us from the sea-wall. So we went up. And he said:</p> + +<p>'You take my tip and cut along home. There's something come for you.'</p> + +<p>'Perhaps it's heaps of things, like I said, to eat with the plain +living,' said H. O.</p> + +<p>And bright visions of hampers full of the most superior tuck winged our +young legs as we cut along home.</p> + +<p>It was not, however, a hamper that we found awaiting us. It was a large +box. And besides<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> that there were two cases addressed to Dicky and me, +and through the gaps in the boards we could see twisted straw, and our +hearts leapt high in our breasts, because we knew that they were bikes.</p> + +<p>And such, indeed, they proved to be—free-wheels of the most unspotted +character, the noble gift of our Indian uncle, ever amiable, generous, +and esteemed.</p> + +<p>While we were getting the glorious bikes from their prison bars, the +others were undoing the box which had their names on it.</p> + +<p>It contained cakes and sweets, a work-basket for Dora, lined with red +satin, and dressed up with silver thimbles, and all sorts of bodkins and +scissors, and knives with silver handles. There was a lovely box of +paints for Alice.</p> + +<p>Noël had a paint-box too, and H. O. had a very good Aunt Sally. And +there were lots of books—not the sawdusty, dry kind that Miss Sandal +had in her house, but jolly good books, the kind you can't put down till +you've finished. But just now we hardly looked at them. For who with a +spark of manly spirit would think twice about a book with a new +free-wheel champing the oil like a charger in a ballad?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> + +<p>Dicky and I had a three-mile spin before dinner, and only fell off five +times between us. Three spills were Dicky's, one was Oswald's, and one +was when we ran into each other. The bikes were totally uninjured.</p> + +<p>As time ran its appointed course we got a bit used to the bikes, and, +finding that you cannot ride all day and all night, we began to look at +the books. Only one of them comes into this story. It was called 'The +Youth's Manual of Scientific and Mechanical Recreation,' and, of course, +we none of us read it till we'd read everything else, and then we found +it wasn't half bad. It taught you how to make all sorts of +things—galvanic batteries, and kites, and mouse-traps, and how to +electroplate things, and how to do wood-carving and leather-work. We +tried as many of the things as we had money for, and some of them +succeeded. Then we made a fire-balloon.</p> + +<p>It took a long time to make, and then it caught fire and blazed away +before we could get it launched.</p> + +<p>So we made another, and Noël dropped it near the water-butt, where there +was a puddle, and, being tissue-paper, it was unable to stand the +strain.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> + +<p>So we made another. But the paste was bad, and it did not stick.</p> + +<p>So we made another.</p> + +<p>Then, at last, when all was ready, Oswald climbed on to the pigsty at +Mrs. Beales', and held the balloon very steady while Dicky lighted the +cotton-wool, soaked in spirits of wine, which hangs from the end (where +cars are in larger sizes), and causes it to be called a fire-balloon. A +taper is burned inside the balloon, and then, according to the book, 'it +readily ascends, and is carried away by the wind, sometimes to a +considerable distance.'</p> + +<p>Well, this time everything happened just as the book said, which is not +always the case.</p> + +<p>It was a clear, dark night, bright stars only. And, to our relief and +agreeable surprise, our balloon rose up and sailed away, dragging its +lighted tail like a home-made comet.</p> + +<p>It sailed away over the marshes, getting smaller and smaller, and at +last it was, though lost to sight, to memory dear. Some of us thought it +wasn't worth doing, but Oswald was glad he had persevered. He does hate +to be beaten. However, we none of us cared to make another, so we went +to bed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> + +<p>Dicky always goes to sleep directly on these occasions, but Oswald, more +thoughtful for his years, sometimes reviews the events of the day. He +must have been nearly asleep, because he was just reviewing an elephant +that flew with a lamp inside, so that it looked like a fire-balloon, +when Alice suddenly came and woke him up completely.</p> + +<p>'Beware!' she said in tones of awe.</p> + +<p>And he said, but not crossly:</p> + +<p>'Well, what on earth's up now?'</p> + +<p>'The fire-balloon!' replied Alice.</p> + +<p>'What about it?' he rejoined, still calm and kind, though roused from +his reviews.</p> + +<p>'Why, it came to me all in a minute! Oh, Oswald—when it comes +down—there are lots of farms in the march. Suppose it comes down and +sets light to something! It's a crime—arsenic or something—and you can +be hanged for it!'</p> + +<p>'Don't be an idiot!' said Oswald kindly. 'The book wouldn't have told +youths how to make them if they were crimes. Go back to bed, for +goodness' sake!'</p> + +<p>'I wish we hadn't—oh, I do!' said Alice.</p> + +<p>But she did as she was told. Oswald has taught her this.</p> + +<p>Next day her fears had stopped, like silent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> watches in the night, and +we began to make a trap for badgers—in case we ever found one.</p> + +<p>But Dicky went to the top of the mill with some field-glasses he had +borrowed from Mr. Carrington to look at distant ships with, and he burst +into the busy circle of badger-trap makers, and said:</p> + +<p>'I say, come and look! There's a fire in the marsh!'</p> + +<p>'There!' said Alice, dropping the wire pliers on her good elder +brother's foot. 'What did I tell you?'</p> + +<p>We all tore to the top of the mill, and sure enough, far across the +sunny green marshes rose a little cloud of smoke, and blue and yellow +flames leaped out every now and then. We all took turns to look through +the glasses.</p> + +<p>Then Oswald said:</p> + +<p>'This is no time for looking through field-glasses with your mouths +open. We must go and help. We might fetch the fire-engines or something. +The bikes, Dicky!'</p> + +<p>Almost instantly we were in the saddle and tearing along the level marsh +towards the direction of the fire. At first we got down at every +crossroad and used the field-glasses to see which way<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> to go; but as we +got nearer, or the fire got bigger, or perhaps both, we could see it +quite plainly with the naked eye. It was much further off than we had +thought, but we rode on undaunted, regardless of fatigue and of +dinner-time, being now long gone by.</p> + +<p>We got to the fire at last. It was at Crown Ovender Farm, and we had to +lift the bikes over fences and wheel them over ploughed fields to get +there, because we did not know the right way by road.</p> + +<p>Crown Ovender is a little farmhouse, and a barn opposite, and a great +rick-yard, and two of the ricks were alight. They smoked horribly, and +the wind blew the hot smoke into your eyes, and every now and then you +saw great flames—yards long they seemed—leap out as if they were +crying to get to the house.</p> + +<p>We had put our bikes in a ditch a field away, and now we went all round +about to ask if we could help; but there wasn't a soul to be seen.</p> + +<p>We did not know what to do. Even Oswald—always full of resource—almost +scratched his head, which seems to help some people to think, though I +don't think it ever would me, besides not looking nice.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I wish we'd told them in the village,' said Dicky.</p> + +<p>We had not done this, and the reason, the author is ashamed to say, was +because we wanted to get there before anyone else. This was very +selfish, and the author has often regretted it.</p> + +<p>The flames were growing larger and fiercer, and the tar on the side of +the barn next the rick-yard was melting and running down like treacle.</p> + +<p>'There's a well!' said Dicky suddenly. 'It isn't a deep well, and there +are two buckets.'</p> + +<p>Oswald understood. He drew up the water, and Dicky took the buckets as +they came up full and dripping and dashed the water on to the tarry face +of the barn. It hissed and steamed. We think it did some good. We took +it in turns to turn the well-wheel. It was hard work, and it was +frightfully hot. Then suddenly we heard a horrid sound, a sort of +out-of-breath scream, and there was a woman, very red in the face and +perspiring, climbing over the fence.</p> + +<p>'Hallo!' said Oswald.</p> + +<p>'Oh!' the woman said, panting, 'it's not the house, then? Thank them as +be it's not the house! Oh, my heart alive, I thought it was the house!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + +<p>'It isn't the house,' said Oswald; 'but it jolly soon will be!'</p> + +<p>'Oh, my pore Lily!' said the woman. 'With this 'ere wind the house 'll +be alight in a minute. And her a-bed in there! Where's Honeysett?'</p> + +<p>'There's no one here but us. The house is locked up,' we said.</p> + +<p>'Yes, I know, 'cause of tramps. Honeysett's got the key. I comes in as +soon as I've cleared dinner away. She's ill a-bed, sleeping like a lamb, +I'll be bound, all unknowing of her burning end.'</p> + +<p>'We <i>must</i> get her out,' said Oswald.</p> + +<p>But the woman didn't seem to know what to do. She kept on saying, +'Where's Honeysett? Oh, drat him! where's that Honeysett?'</p> + +<p>So then Oswald felt it was the time to be a general, like he always +meant to if he got the chance. He said, 'Come on!' and he took a stone +and broke the kitchen window, and put his hand through the jagged hole +and unfastened the catch, and climbed in. The back-door was locked and +the key gone, but the front-door was only bolted inside. But it stuck +very tight, from having been painted and shut before the paint was dry, +and never opened again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> + +<p>Oswald couldn't open it. He ran back to the kitchen window and shouted +to the others.</p> + +<p>'Go round to the other door and shove for all you're worth!' he cried in +the manly tones that all must obey.</p> + +<p>So they went; but Dicky told me afterwards that the woman didn't shove +for anything like all she was worth. In fact, she wouldn't shove at all, +till he had to make a sort of battering-ram of her, and then she seemed +to awake from a dream, and they got the door open.</p> + +<p>We followed the woman up the stairs and into a bedroom, and there was +another woman sitting up in bed trembling, and her mouth opening and +shutting.</p> + +<p>'Oh, it's you, Eliza,' she said, falling back against the pillows. 'I +thought it were tramps.'</p> + +<p>Eliza did not break things to the sufferer gently, like we should have +done, however hurried.</p> + +<p>'Mercy you aren't burnt alive in your bed, Lily!' she merely remarked. +'The place is all ablaze!'</p> + +<p>Then she rolled her sick sufferer in a blanket and took hold of her +shoulders, and told us to take her feet.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> + +<p>But Oswald was too calm to do this suddenly. He said:</p> + +<p>'Where are you going to put her?'</p> + +<p>'Anywheres!' said Eliza wildly—'anywheres is better than this here.'</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 402px;"> +<img src="images/gs04.jpg" width="402" height="600" alt="'We consented to carry the unfortunate bed-woman to +it.'—Page 76" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'We consented to carry the unfortunate bed-woman to +it.'—Page 76</span> +</div> + +<p>'There's plenty of time,' said Oswald; and he and Dicky rushed into +another room, and got a feather-bed and bedclothes, and hunched them +down the stairs, and dragged them half a field away, and made a bed in a +nice dry ditch. And then we consented to carry the unfortunate bed-woman +to it.</p> + +<p>The house was full of smoke by this time, though it hadn't yet caught +fire; and I tell you we felt just like heroic firemen as we stumbled +down the crookety narrow stairs, back first, bearing the feet of the +sick woman. Oswald did so wish he had had a fireman's helmet to put on!</p> + +<p>When we got the fading Lily to her dry ditch, she clutched Oswald's arm +and whispered:</p> + +<p>'Save the sticks!'</p> + +<p>'What sticks?' asked Oswald, who thought it was the ragings of delirium.</p> + +<p>'She means the furniture,' said Eliza; 'but I'm afraid its doom is +written on high.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Rubbish!' said Oswald kindly; and we flew back, us boys dragging Eliza +with us.</p> + +<p>There didn't seem to be much furniture in the house, but when we began +to move it, it at once seemed to multiply itself with the rapidity of +compound interest. We got all the clothes out first, in drawers and +clothes-baskets, and tied up in sheets. Eliza wasn't much use. The only +thing she could do was to look for a bed-key to unscrew the iron +bedsteads; but Oswald and Dicky toiled on. They carried out chairs and +tables and hearthrugs. As Oswald was staggering on under a Windsor +armchair, with a tea-tray and an ironing-board under his arms, he ran +into a man.</p> + +<p>'What's up?' said he.</p> + +<p>'Fire!' said Oswald.</p> + +<p>'I seed that,' said the man.</p> + +<p>Oswald shoved the chair and other things on to the man.</p> + +<p>'Then lend a hand to get the things away,' he said.</p> + +<p>And more and more people came, and all worked hard; but Oswald and Dicky +did most. Eliza never even found that bed-key, because when she saw +people beginning to come thicker and thicker across the fields, like +ants hurrying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> home, she went out and told everyone over and over again +that Honeysett had got the key.</p> + +<p>Then a woman came along, and Eliza got her into a corner by the stairs +and jawed. I heard part of the jaw.</p> + +<p>'An' pore Mrs. Simpkins, her man he's gone to Ashford Market with his +beasts and the three other men, and me and my man said we'd have Liz up +at my place, her being my sister, so as Honeysett could go off to Romney +about the sheep. But she wouldn't come, not though we brought the light +cart over for her. So we thought it best Honeysett stayed about his +work, and go for the sheep to-morrow.'</p> + +<p>'Then the house would ha' been all empty but for her not being wishful +to go along of you?' Oswald heard the other say.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Eliza; 'an' so you see——'</p> + +<p>'You keep your mouth shut,' the other woman fiercely said; 'you're +Lily's sister, but Tom, he's my brother. If you don't shut your silly +mouth you'll be getting of them into trouble. It's insured, ain't it?'</p> + +<p>'I don't see,' said Eliza.</p> + +<p>'You don't never see nothing,' said the other. 'You just don't say a +word 'less you're arst, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> then only as you come to look after her and +found the fire a-raging something crool.'</p> + +<p>'But why——'</p> + +<p>The other woman clawed hold of her and dragged her away, whispering +secretly.</p> + +<p>All this time the fire was raging, but there were lots of men now to +work the well and the buckets, and the house and the barn had not +caught.</p> + +<p>When we had got out all the furniture, some of the men set to work on +the barn, and, of course, Oswald and Dicky, though weary, were in this +also. They helped to get out all the wool—bundles and bundles and +bundles of it; but when it came to sacks of turnip seed and things, they +thought they had had enough, and they went to where the things were that +had come out of the larder, and they got a jug of milk and some bread +and cheese, and took it to the woman who was lying in the dry ditch on +the nice bed they had so kindly made for her. She drank some milk, and +asked them to have some, and they did, with bread and cheese (Dutch), +and jolly glad they were of it.</p> + +<p>Just as we had finished we heard a shout, and there was the fire-engine +coming across the field.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> + +<p>I do like fire-engines. They are so smart and fierce, and look like +dragons ready to fight the devouring element.</p> + +<p>It was no use, however, in spite of the beautiful costumes of the +firemen, because there was no water, except in the well, and not much +left of that.</p> + +<p>The man named Honeysett had ridden off on an old boneshaker of his to +fetch the engines. He had left the key in the place where it was always +kept, only Eliza had not had the sense to look for it. He had left a +letter for her, too, written in red pencil on the back of a bill for a +mowing-machine. It said: 'Rix on fir'; going to git fir'-injins.'</p> + +<p>Oswald treasures this letter still as a memento of happier days.</p> + +<p>When Honeysett saw the line of men handing up buckets to throw on the +tarry wall, he said:</p> + +<p>'That ain't no manner of use. Wind's changed a hour agone.'</p> + +<p>And so it had. The flames were now reaching out the other way, and two +more ricks were on fire. But the tarry walls were quite cool, and very +wet, and the men who were throwing the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> water were very surprised to +find that they were standing in a great puddle.</p> + +<p>And now, when everything in the house and the barn was safe, Oswald had +time to draw his breath and think, and to remember with despair exactly +who it was that had launched a devastating fire-balloon over the +peaceful marsh.</p> + +<p>It was getting dusk by this time; but even the splendour of all those +burning ricks against the darkening sky was merely wormwood and gall to +Oswald's upright heart, and he jolly soon saw that it was the same to +Dicky's.</p> + +<p>'I feel pretty sick,' he said. 'Let's go home.'</p> + +<p>'They say the whole eleven ricks are bound to go,' said Dicky, 'with the +wind the way it is.'</p> + +<p>'<i>We're</i> bound to go,' said Oswald.</p> + +<p>'Where?' inquired the less thoughtful Dicky.</p> + +<p>'To prison,' said his far-seeing brother, turning away and beginning to +walk towards the bicycles.</p> + +<p>'We can't be sure it was our balloon,' said Dicky, following.</p> + +<p>'Pretty average,' said Oswald bitterly.</p> + +<p>'But no one would know it was us if we held our tongues.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> + +<p>'We can't hold our tongues,' Oswald said; 'if we do someone else will be +blamed, as sure as fate. You didn't hear what that woman said about +insurance money.'</p> + +<p>'We might wait and see if anyone <i>does</i> get into trouble, and <i>then</i> +come forward,' said Dicky.</p> + +<p>And Oswald owned they might do that, but his heart was full of despair +and remorse.</p> + +<p>Just as they got to their bikes a man met them.</p> + +<p>'All lost, I suppose?' he said, jerking his thumb at the blazing +farmyard.</p> + +<p>'Not all,' said Dicky; 'we saved the furniture and the wool and +things——'</p> + +<p>The man looked at us, and said heavily:</p> + +<p>'Very kind of you, but it was all insured.'</p> + +<p>'Look here,' said Oswald earnestly, 'don't you say that to anyone else.'</p> + +<p>'Eh?' said the man.</p> + +<p>'If you do, they're safe to think you set fire to it yourself!'</p> + +<p>He stared, then he frowned, then he laughed, and said something about +old heads on young shoulders, and went on.</p> + +<p>We went on, too, in interior gloom, that only<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> grew gloomier as we got +nearer and nearer home.</p> + +<p>We held a council that night after the little ones had gone to bed. Dora +and Alice seemed to have been crying most of the day. They felt a little +better when they heard that no one had been burned to death. Alice told +me she had been thinking all day of large families burned to little +cinders. But about telling of the fire-balloon we could not agree.</p> + +<p>Alice and Oswald thought we ought. But Dicky said 'Wait,' and Dora said +'Write to father about it.'</p> + +<p>Alice said:</p> + +<p>'No; it doesn't make any difference about our not being sure whether our +balloon <i>was</i> the cause of destruction. I <i>expect</i> it was, and, anyway, +we ought to own up.'</p> + +<p>'I feel so too,' said Oswald; 'but I do wish I knew how long in prison +you got for it.'</p> + +<p>We went to bed without deciding anything.</p> + +<p>And very early in the morning Oswald woke, and he got up and looked out +of the window, and there was a great cloud of smoke still going up from +the doomed rickyard. So then he went and woke Alice, and said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Suppose the police have got that poor farmer locked up in a noisome +cell, and all the time it's <i>us</i>.'</p> + +<p>'That's just what <i>I</i> feel,' said Alice.</p> + +<p>Then Oswald said, 'Get dressed.'</p> + +<p>And when she had, she came out into the road, where Oswald, pale but +resolute, was already pacing with firm steps. And he said:</p> + +<p>'Look here, let's go and tell. Let's say you and I made the balloon. The +others can stop out of it if they like.'</p> + +<p>'They won't if it's really prison,' said Alice. 'But it would be noble +of us to try it on. Let's——'</p> + +<p>But we found we didn't know who to tell.</p> + +<p>'It seems so fatal to tell the police,' said Alice; 'there's no getting +out of it afterwards. Besides, he's only Jameson, and he's very stupid.'</p> + +<p>The author assures you you do not know what it is like to have a crime +like arsenic on your conscience, and to have gone to the trouble and +expense of making up your mind to confess it, and then not to know who +to.</p> + +<p>We passed a wretched day. And all the time the ricks were blazing. All +the people in the village went over with carts and bikes to see the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +fire—like going to a fair or a show. In other circumstances we should +have done the same, but now we had no heart for it.</p> + +<p>In the evening Oswald went for a walk by himself, and he found his +footsteps turning towards the humble dwelling of the Ancient Mariner who +had helped us in a smuggling adventure once.</p> + +<p>The author wishes to speak the truth, so he owns that perhaps Oswald had +some idea that the Ancient Mariner, who knew so much about smugglers and +highwaymen, might be able to think of some way for us to save ourselves +from prison without getting an innocent person put into it. Oswald found +the mariner smoking a black pipe by his cottage door. He winked at +Oswald as usual. Then Oswald said:</p> + +<p>'I want to ask your advice; but it's a secret. I know you can keep +secrets.'</p> + +<p>When the aged one had agreed to this, Oswald told him all. It was a +great relief.</p> + +<p>The mariner listened with deep attention, and when Oswald had quite +done, he said:</p> + +<p>'It ain't the stone jug this time mate. That there balloon of yours, I +see it go up—fine and purty 'twas, too.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> + +<p>'We all saw it go <i>up</i>,' said Oswald in despairing accents. 'The +question is, where did it come down?'</p> + +<p>'At Burmarsh, sonny,' was the unexpected and unspeakably relieving +reply. 'My sister's husband's niece—it come down and lodged in their +pear-tree—showed it me this morning, with the red ink on it what +spelled your names out.'</p> + +<p>Oswald, only pausing to wring the hand of his preserver, tore home on +the wings of the wind to tell the others.</p> + +<p>I don't think we were ever so glad of anything in our lives. It is a +frightfully blighting thing when you believe yourself to be an +Arsenicator (or whatever it is) of the deepest dye.</p> + +<p>As soon as we could think of anything but our own cleanness from guilt, +we began to fear the worst of Tom Simkins, the farmer at Crown Ovenden. +But <i>he</i> came out of it, like us, without a stain on his fair name, +because he and his sister and his man Honeysett all swore that he had +given a tramp leave to sleep up against the beanstack the night before +the fire, and the tramp's pipe and matches were found there. So he got +his insurance money; but the tramp escaped.</p> + +<p>But when we told father all about it, he said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> he wished he had been a +director of that fire insurance company.</p> + +<p>We never made another fire-balloon. Though it was not us that time, it +might have been. And we know now but too well the anxieties of a life of +crime.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_ENCHANCERIED_HOUSE" id="THE_ENCHANCERIED_HOUSE"></a>THE ENCHANCERIED HOUSE</h2> + +<h3>A STORY ABOUT THE BASTABLES</h3> + + +<p>The adventure which I am about to relate was a very long time ago, and +it was nobody's fault. The part of it that was most like a real crime +was caused by H. O. not being at that date old enough to know +better—and this was nobody's fault—though we took care that but a +brief half-hour elapsed between the discovery of his acts and his +<i>being</i> old enough to know better, and knowing it, too (better, I mean), +quite thoroughly. We were residing at the residence of an old nurse of +father's while Dora was engaged in the unagreeable pastime of having +something catching at home. If she had been with us most likely none of +this would have happened. For she has an almost unerring nose for right +and wrong. Or perhaps what the author means is that she never does the +kind of thing that grown-ups don't like your doing. Father's old nurse +was very jolly to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> us, and did not bother too much, except about wet +feet and being late for meals, and not airing your shirt before you put +it on. But it is part of the nature of the nicest grown-ups to bother +about these little things, and we must not be hard on them for it, for +no one can help their natures.</p> + +<p>The part where old nurse's house was was where London begins to leave +off being London, but before it can make up its mind not to be it. There +are fields and bits of lanes and hedges, but the rows of ugly little +houses go creeping along like yellow caterpillars, eating up the green +fields. There are brickfields here and there, and cabbage fields, and +places where rhubarb is grown. And it is much more interesting than real +town, because there is more room to do things in, and not so many people +to say 'Don't!' when you do.</p> + +<p>Nurse's house was the kind that is always a house, no matter how much +you pretend it is a baron's castle or an enchanted palace. And to play +at its being a robber's cave or any part of a pirate ship is simply +silly, and no satisfaction to anyone. There were no books except sermons +and the Wesleyan Magazine. And there was a green cut-paper fuzziness on +the frame of the looking-glass in the parlour. There was a garden<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>—at +least, there was enough ground for one, but nothing grew there except +nettles and brick-bats and one elder-tree, and a poor old oak-tree that +had seen better days. There was a hole in the fence, very convenient for +going through in a hurry.</p> + +<p>One morning there had been what old nurse called a 'set out' because +Noël was writing some of his world-without-end poetry, and he had got as +far as</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'How beautiful the sun and moon</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And all the stars appear!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They really are a long way off,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Although they look very near.'</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'I do not think that they are worlds,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But apples on a tree;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The angels pick them whenever they like,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But it is not so with me.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I wish I was a little angel-child</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To gather stars for my tea,'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>before Dicky found out that he was writing it on the blank leaf at the +end of the Latin prize Dicky got at the Preparatory School.</p> + +<p>Noël—for mysterious reasons unknown to Fame—is Alice's favourite +brother, and of course she stood up for him, and said he didn't mean it.</p> + +<p>And things were said on both sides, and the rest of us agreed with Dicky +that Noël was old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> enough to know better. It ended in Alice and Noël +going out for a walk by themselves as soon as Noël had had the crying +washed off his hands and face.</p> + +<p>The rest of us spent the shining hours in getting a board and nailing it +up in the oak-tree for a look-out station, in case of Saracens arriving +with an army to attack London. The oak is always hard to climb, and this +was a peculiarly hard day, because the next-door people had tied a +clothes-line to the oak, and hung their wet washing out on the line.</p> + +<p>The sun was setting (in the west as usual) before Alice and Noël +returned. They came across the wide fields from the direction of a +pinewood that we had never explored yet, though always meaning to.</p> + +<p>'There!' said Dicky, 'they've been and gone to the pinewood all by +themselves.'</p> + +<p>But the hatchet Dicky was still cherishing in his breast was buried at +once under the first words spoken by the returning party of explorers.</p> + +<p>'Oh, Oswald,' said Alice, 'oh, Dicky, we've found a treasure!'</p> + +<p>Dicky hammered the last nail into the Saracen watch-tower.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Not a real money one?' he said, dropping the hammer—which was a +careless thing to do, and the author told him so at the time.</p> + +<p>'No, not a money one, but it's real all the same. Let's have a council, +and I'll tell you.'</p> + +<p>It was then that Dicky showed that if he dropped hammers it was not +because he could not bury hatchets. He said, 'Righto! There's room for +us all up here. Catch hold, Noël. Oswald, give him a shove up. Alice and +he can sit in the Saracens' watch-tower, and I'll keep hold of H. O. if +you'll hand him up.'</p> + +<p>Alice was full of the politest compliments about the architecture of the +Saracens' watch-tower, and Noël said:</p> + +<p>'I say, Dicky, I'm awfully sorry about your prize.'</p> + +<p>'It's all right,' said Dicky; 'I rubbed it out with bread.'</p> + +<p>Noël opened his mouth. He looks like a very young bird when he does +this.</p> + +<p>'Then my beautiful poem's turned into dirty bread-crumbs,' he said +slowly.</p> + +<p>'Never mind,' said Alice; 'I remember nearly every word of it: we'll +write it out again after tea.'</p> + +<p>'I thought you'd be so pleased,' Noël went on,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> 'because it makes a book +more valuable to have an author's writing in it. Albert's uncle told me +so.'</p> + +<p>'But it has to be the same author that wrote the book,' Alice explained, +'and it was Cæsar wrote that book. And you aren't Cæsar <i>yet</i>, you +know.'</p> + +<p>'Nor don't want to be,' said Noël.</p> + +<p>Oswald now thought that politeness was satisfied on both sides, so he +said:</p> + +<p>'What price treasures?'</p> + +<p>And then Alice told. But it had to be in whispers, because the next-door +people, who always did things at times when not convenient to us, were +now taking in their washing off the line. I heard them remark that it +was a 'good drying day.'</p> + +<p>'Well,' Alice mysteriously observed, 'it was like this. (Do you think +the Saracens' watch-tower is really safe for two? It seems to go down +awfully much in the middle.)'</p> + +<p>'Sit nearer the ends, then,' said Oswald. 'Well?'</p> + +<p>'We thought we would go to the pinewoods because of reading in Bret +Harte that the resinous balsam of the pine is healing to the wounded +spirit.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I should have thought if anybody's spirit was wounded...' said Dicky in +tones of heatening indignantness.</p> + +<p>'Yes, I know. But you'd got the oak, and I expect oaks are just as good, +if not better, especially for English people, because of Oakapple +Day—and——Where was I?'</p> + +<p>We told her.</p> + +<p>'So we went, and it is a very nice wood—quite tulgy, you know. We +expected to see a Bandersnatch every minute, didn't we, Noël? It's not +very big, though, and on the other side there's an enchanted +desert—rather bare, with patches of grass and brambles. And in the very +middle of it we found the treasure.'</p> + +<p>'Let's have a squint at the treasure,' said Dicky. 'Did you fetch it +along?'</p> + +<p>Noël and Alice sniggered.</p> + +<p>'Not exactly,' said Alice; 'the treasure is a <i>house</i>.'</p> + +<p>'It's an enchanted house,' said Noël, 'and it's a deserted house, and +the garden is like in "The Sensitive Plant" after the lady has given up +attending.'</p> + +<p>'Did you go in?' we asked.</p> + +<p>'No,' said Alice; 'we came back for you. And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> we asked an old man, and +he <i>did</i> say it was in Chancery, so no one can live in it.'</p> + +<p>H. O. asked what was enchancery.</p> + +<p>'I'm certain the old man meant enchanted,' said Noël, 'only I expect +that's the old-fashioned word for it. Enchanceried is a very nice word. +And it means it's an enchanted house, just like I said.'</p> + +<p>Nurse now came out to remark, 'Tea, my dears,' so we left the Saracens' +tower and went in to that meal.</p> + +<p>Noël began to make a poem called 'The Enchanceried House,' but we got +him to stop till there was more for him to write about. There soon was +more, and more than enough, as it turned out.</p> + +<p>The setting sun had set, but it had left a redness in the sky (like one +of those distant fires that you go after, and they are always miles from +where you are) which shone through the pinetrees. The house looked +black and mysterious against the strawberry-ice-coloured horizon.</p> + +<p>It was a good-sized house. The bottom-floor windows were boarded up. It +had a Sensitive-Plantish garden and a paved yard and outhouses. The +garden had a high wall with glass on top,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> but Oswald and Dicky got into +the yard. Green grass was growing between the paving-stones. The corners +of the stable and coach-house doors were rough, as if from the attacks +of rats, but we never saw any of these stealthy rodents. The back-door +was locked, but we climbed up on the water-butt and looked through a +little window, and saw a plate-rack, and a sink with taps, and a copper, +and a broken coal-scuttle. It was very exciting.</p> + +<p>The day after we went again, and this time we borrowed the next-door +people's clothes-line, and by tying it in loops made a sort of +rope-ladder, and then all of us got over. We had a glorious game +besieging the pigsty, and all the military orders had to be given in +whispers for fear of us being turned out if anyone passed and heard us. +We found the pinewood, and the field, and the house had all got boards +to say what would be done to trespassers with the utmost rigour of the +law. It was such a swat untying the knots in the next-door people's +clothes-line, that we only undid one; and then we bought them a new line +with our own pocket-money, and kept the rope-ladder in a hidden bed of +nettles, always on the spot and ready for us.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> + +<p>We found a way of going round, and getting to the house through a hole +in a hedge and across a lane, so as not to go across the big fields +where every human eye could mark our proceedings, and come after us and +tell us not to.</p> + +<p>We went there every day. It would have been a terrible thing if an army +of bloodthirsty Saracens had chosen that way to march on London, for +there was hardly ever a look-out in the tower now.</p> + +<p>It was a jolly place to play in, and Oswald had found out what 'in +Chancery' really means, so he had no fear of being turned into a +pig-headed lady, or marble from the waist down.</p> + +<p>And after a bit we began to want to get into the house, and we wanted it +so much that our hearts got quite cold about the chicken-house and the +pigsty, which at first had been a fairy dream of delight.</p> + +<p>But the doors were all locked. We got all the old keys we could, but +they were all the keys of desks and workboxes and tea-caddies, and not +the right size or shape for doors.</p> + +<p>Then one day Oswald, with his justly celebrated observingness, noticed +that one of the bars was loose in the brickwork of a sort of +half-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>underground window. To pull it out was to the lion-hearted youth +but the work of a moment. He got down through the gap thus obtained, and +found himself in a place like a very small area, only with no steps, and +with bars above him, broken glass and matted rags and straw beneath his +enterprising boots, and on one side a small cobwebby window. He got out +again and told the others, who were trying to get up the cobblestones +by the stable so as to make an underground passage into the stable at +the ratty corner of its door.</p> + +<p>They came at once, and, after a brief discussion, it was decided to +break the window a little more than it was already, and to try to get in +a hand that could unlatch the window. Of course, as Oswald had +found the bar, it was to be his hand.</p> + +<p>The dauntless Oswald took off his jacket, and, wrapping it round his +fist, shoved at the pane nearest the window fastening. The glass fell +inwards with the noise you would expect. In newspapers I suppose they +would call it a sickening thud. Really it was a sort of hollow tinkling +sound. It made even Oswald jump, and H. O. said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Suppose the window opens straight into a bottomless well!'</p> + +<p>We did not think this likely, but you cannot be too careful when you are +exploring.</p> + +<p>Oswald got in his hand and undid the window fastening, which was very +rusty. The window opened out like a door. There was only just room in +the area under the bars for Oswald and the opening of the window. He +leaned forward and looked in. He was not surprised to find that it was +not a well, after all, but a cellar.</p> + +<p>'Come on,' he said; 'it's all right.'</p> + +<p>Dicky came on so rapidly that his boots grazed the shoulder of the +advancing Oswald. Alice was coming next, but Noël begged her to wait.</p> + +<p>'I don't think H. O. ought to go in till we're sure it's safe,' he said; +and Oswald hopes it was not because Noël was in a funk himself, though +with a poet you never know.</p> + +<p>The cellar into which Oswald now plunged had a damp and mouldering +smell, like of mouse-traps, and straw, and beer-barrels. Another cellar +opened out of it, and in this there was traces of coal having existed in +other ages.</p> + +<p>Passing the coal-cellar, we went out to a cellar with shelves on the +wall like berths in a ship, or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> the catacombs where early Christians +used to be bricked up. Of course, we knew it was only a wine-cellar, +because we have one at home. Matches had to be used here. Then we found +a flight of stone steps and went up. And Oswald is not ashamed to own +that, the staircase being of a twisty nature, he did think what it would +be like if he and Dicky were to meet Something at one of the corners; +but all was peace and solitude. Yet it was with joy, and like meeting an +old friend, that we got out of the cellars, stairs, and through a door +to the back-kitchen, where the sink was, and the copper and the +plate-rack. Oswald felt like a brother to the broken coal-scuttle. Our +first instant thought was the back door.</p> + +<p>It was bolted top and bottom, and the bolts were sort of cemented into +their places with rust. But they were unable to resist our patient and +determined onslaught. Only when we had undone them the door kept shut, +and by stooping down and looking we saw that this was because it was +locked.</p> + +<p>Dicky at once despaired, and said, 'It's no go.'</p> + +<p>But the researchful Oswald looked round, and there was a key on a nail, +which shows how wrong it is to despair.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was not the right key, proving later to be the key of the +chicken-house. So we went into the hall. There was a bunch of keys on a +nail on the back of the front-door.</p> + +<p>'There now, you see I was right,' remarked Oswald. And he was, as is so +often the case. All the keys had labels, and one of these said +'Back-kitchen,' so we applied it at once, and the locked door yielded to +it.</p> + +<p>'You can bring H. O. in quite safely,' Oswald said when the door had +creakingly consented to open itself, and to disclose the sunshine, and +the paved yard with the paving stones marked out with green grass, and +the interested expressions on the faces of Alice and the others. 'It's +quite safe. It's just a house like anyone else's, only it hasn't got any +furniture in it.'</p> + +<p>We went all over the house. There were fourteen rooms altogether, +fifteen if you counted the back-kitchen where the plate-warmer was, and +the copper, and the sink with the taps, and the brotherly coal-scuttle. +The rooms were quite different from the ones in old nurse's house. Noël +said he thought all the rooms in this house had been the scene of duels +or elopements, or concealing rightful heirs. The present author doesn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +know about that, but there was a splendid cupboardiness about the place +that spoke volumes to a discerning eye. Even the window seats, of which +there were six, lifted up like the lids of boxes, and you could have +hidden a flying Cavalier in any of them, if he had been of only medium +height and slender build, like heroes with swords so often are.</p> + +<p>Then there were three staircases, and these must have been darkly +convenient for getting conspirators away when the King's officers were +at the door, as so constantly happened in romantic times.</p> + +<p>The whole house was full of ideas for ripping games, and when we came +away Alice said:</p> + +<p>'We must be really better than we know. We must have done <i>something</i> to +deserve a find like this.'</p> + +<p>'Don't worry,' said Oswald. 'Albert's uncle says you always have to pay +for everything. We haven't paid for this yet.'</p> + +<p>This reflection, like so many of our young hero's, was correct.</p> + +<p>I have not yet told you about the finest find of all the fine finds we +found finally (that looks very odd, and I am not sure if it is +allity-what's-its-name, or only carelessness. I wonder whether other +authors are ever a prey to these devastating<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> doubts?) This find was on +the top floor. It was a room with bars to the windows, and it was a very +odd shape. You went along a passage to the door, and then there was the +room; but the room went back along the same way as the passage had come, +so that when you went round there no one could see you from the door. +The door was sort of in the middle of the room; but I see I must draw it +for you, or you will never understand.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;"> +<img src="images/gs05.jpg" width="650" height="436" alt="" title="plan" /> +</div> + +<p>The door that is marked 'Another Door' was full of agitated excitement +for us, because it wasn't a door at all—at least, not the kind that you +are used to. It was a gate, like you have at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> the top of nursery stairs +in the mansions of the rich and affluent; but instead of being halfway +up, it went all the way up, so that you could see into the room through +the bars.</p> + +<p>'Somebody must have kept tame lunatics here,' said Dicky.</p> + +<p>'Or bears,' said H. O.</p> + +<p>'Or enchanceried Princes,' said Noël.</p> + +<p>'It seems silly, though,' said Alice, 'because the lunatic or the bear +or the enchanted Prince could always hide round the corner when he heard +the keepers coming, if he didn't happen to want to show off just then.'</p> + +<p>This was so, and the deep mystery of the way this room was built was +never untwisted.</p> + +<p>'Perhaps a Russian prisoner was kept there,' said Alice, 'and they did +not want to look too close for fear he would shoot them with his +bomb-gun. Poor man! perhaps he caught vodka, or some other of those +awful foreign diseases, and died in his hidden confinement.'</p> + +<p>It was a most ripping room for games. The key of it was on the bunch +labelled 'Mrs. S.'s room.' We often wondered who Mrs. S. was.</p> + +<p>'Let's have a regular round of gaieties,' said Oswald. 'Each of us to +take it in turns to have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> the room, and act what they like, and the +others look through the bars.'</p> + +<p>So next day we did this.</p> + +<p>Oswald, of course, dressed up in bath-towels and a sheet as the ghost of +Mrs. S., but Noël and H. O. screamed, and would not be calm till he tore +off the sheet and showed his knickerbockers and braces as a guarantee of +good faith. Alice put her hair up, and got a skirt, and a large +handkerchief to cry in, and was a hapless maiden imprisoned in a tower +because she would not marry the wicked Baron. Oswald instantly took the +part of the wicked Baron, and Dicky was the virtuous lover of low +degree, and they had a splendid combat, and Dicky carried off the lady. +Of course, that was the proper end to the story, and Oswald had to +pretend to be beaten, which was not the case.</p> + +<p>Dicky was Louis XVI. watch-making while waiting for the guillotine to +happen. So we were the guillotine, and he was executed in the paved +yard.</p> + +<p>Noël was an imprisoned troubadour dressed in bright antimacassars, and +he fired off quite a lot of poetry at us before we could get the door +open, which was most unfair.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> + +<p>H. O. was a clown. He had no fancy dress except flour and two Turkish +towels pinned on to look like trousers, but he put the flour all over +himself, and it took the rest of the day to clean him.</p> + +<p>It was when Alice was drying the hair-brushes that she had washed after +brushing the flour out of Noël's hair in the back-garden that Oswald +said:</p> + +<p>'<i>I</i> know what that room was made for.'</p> + +<p>And everyone said, 'What?' which is not manners, but your brothers and +sisters do not mind because it saves time.</p> + +<p>'Why, <i>coiners</i>,' said Oswald. 'Don't you see? They kept a sentinel at +the door, that <i>is</i> a door, and if anyone approached he whispered +"<i>Cave</i>."'</p> + +<p>'But why have iron bars?'</p> + +<p>'In extra safety,' said Oswald; 'and if their nefarious fires were not +burning he need not say "<i>Cave</i>" at all. It's no use saying anything for +nothing.'</p> + +<p>It is curious, but the others did not seem to see this clear +distinguishedness. All people have not the same fine brains.</p> + +<p>But all the same the idea rankled in their hearts, and one day father +came and took Dicky<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> up to London about that tooth of his, and when +Dicky came back he said:</p> + +<p>'Look here, talking of coiners, there was a man in St. Swithin's Lane +to-day selling little bottles of yellow stuff, and he rubbed some of it +on a penny, and it turned the penny into a half-crown before your +eyes—a new half-crown! It was a penny a bottle, so I bought three +bottles.'</p> + +<p>'I always thought the plant for coining was very expensive,' said Alice.</p> + +<p>'Ah! they tell you that to keep you from doing it, because of its being +a crime,' said Dicky. 'But now I've got this stuff we can begin to be +coiners right away. I believe it isn't really a crime unless you try to +buy things with the base coin.'</p> + +<p>So that very afternoon, directly after dinner, which had a suet pudding +in it that might have weighed down the enterprising spirit of anyone but +us, we went over to the Enchanceried House.</p> + +<p>We found our good rope ladder among its congealing bed of trusty +nettles, and got over into the paved yard, and through the kitchen-door. +Oswald always carried the key of this hung round his neck by a bootlace, +as if it was a talisman, or the hair of his lost love. Of course, Oswald +never had a lost love. He would scorn<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> the action. But some heroes do +have. <i>De gustibus</i> something or other, which means, one man's meat is +another man's poison.</p> + +<p>When we got up into the room with the iron-grated door, it all seemed +very bare. Three bottles of yellow stuff and tenpence halfpenny in +coppers is not much to start a coining enterprise with.</p> + +<p>'We ought to make it <i>look</i> like coining, anyway,' said Oswald.</p> + +<p>'Coiners have furnaces,' said Dicky.</p> + +<p>Alice said: 'Wouldn't a spirit-lamp do? Old nurse has got an old one on +the scullery shelf.'</p> + +<p>We thought it would.</p> + +<p>Then Noël reminded us that coiners have moulds, and Oswald went and +bought a pair of wooden lemon squeezers for sevenpence three farthings. +In his far-sightedness he remembered that coiners use water, so he +bought two enamelled iron bowls at sixpence halfpenny the two. When he +came back he noticed the coal-scuttle we had always felt so friendly to, +and he filled it with water and brought it up. It did not leak worth +mentioning.</p> + +<p>'We ought to have a bench,' said Dicky; 'most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> trades have +that—shoemakers and watchmakers, and tailors and lawyers.'</p> + +<p>This was difficult, but we did it. There were some planks in the cellar, +and a tub and a beer-barrel. Unluckily, the tub and the beer-barrel were +not the same height, but we taught them better by getting old nurse's +'Pilgrim's Progress' and the <i>Wesleyan Magazine</i>, to put on top of the +tub; and then it was as high as the barrel, and we laid the boards +across, and there was a bench as beautiful as you could wish.</p> + +<p>Dicky was allowed to put the stuff on the coins, because he had bought +the bottles with his own money. But Alice held them for him to do, +because girls are inferior beings, except when you are ill, and you must +be kind to them or you need never hope to be a hero. There are drawbacks +to every ambition.</p> + +<p>She let Noël hold them part of the time.</p> + +<p>When she was not helping Dicky, she tried covering pennies with the +silver paper off chocolate, but it was not the kind of success that +would take anyone in.</p> + +<p>H. O. and Noël took it in turns to be sentinel, but they said it was +dull, so Oswald took it on. And before he had been there three minutes +he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> cried, 'Hist! someone approaches!' and the coining materials were +hastily concealed and everyone hid round the corner, like we had agreed +we would do if disturbed in our unlawful pursuits.</p> + +<p>Of course, there wasn't anyone really. After this the kids wanted to be +sentinels again, but Oswald would not let them.</p> + +<p>It was a jolly good game. And there was something about that house that +made whatever you played in it seem awfully real. When I was Mrs. S. I +felt quite unhappy, and when Dicky was the unfortunate monarch who +perished in the French Revolution he told me afterwards he didn't half +like it when it came to the guillotine, though, of course, he knew the +knife was only the little sliding-door of the chicken-house.</p> + +<p>We played coiners for several days, and all learned to give the alarm, +but we were beginning to feel it was time for something new. Noël was +saving the hairs out of his comb, and pulling them out of the horsehair +sofa in the parlour, to make a hair shirt to be a hermit in, and Oswald +had bought a file to get through the bars and be an escaped Bastille +prisoner, leaving his life-history concealed in the fireplace, when the +great event occurred.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> + +<p>We found the silvered money turned to a dirty black when a few hours had +elapsed, and we tried silver paint and gold paint. Our pockets were +always full of gold and silver money, and we could jingle it and take it +out in handfuls and let people see it—not too near.</p> + +<p>Then came the great eventful day.</p> + +<p>H. O. had fallen into the water-butt that morning. We dried his holland +smock, but it went stiff like paper, so that old nurse noticed it, and +thus found out that he was wringing wet underneath. So she put him to +bed, for fear of his catching his death of cold, and the inveterate gang +of coiners had to go to their fell lair without him. We left all our +false money at home, because old nurse had given Alice a piece of +trimming, for dolls, that was all over little imitation silver coins, +called sequences, I believe, to imitate the coinage of Turkish regions. +We reached our Enchanceried House, got in as usual, and started our +desperate work of changing silver sequences into gold half-sovereigns, +with gold paint.</p> + +<p>Noël was very grumpy: he was odd altogether that day. He was trying to +write a poem about a Bastille prisoner. He asked to be sentry, so that +he could think about rhymes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p> + +<p>We had not coined more than about four half-sovereigns when we heard +Noël say: 'Hist! Hide the plant!'</p> + +<p>We didn't take any notice, because we wanted to get enough of them done +to play a game of misers, which was Alice's idea.</p> + +<p>'Hist!' Noël said again. And then suddenly he rushed in and said: 'It's +a <i>real</i> hist! I tell you there's someone on the stairs.'</p> + +<p>And he shut the wooden-grated door, and Oswald, with rare presence of +mind, caught up the bunch of keys and locked the wooden-grated door with +the key labelled 'Mrs. S.'s room.'</p> + +<p>Then, breathless and furtive, we all hid in the part of the room near +the fireplace, where no one could see us from the door.</p> + +<p>We hardly dared to breathe. Alice said afterwards that she could hear +Oswald's heart beating with terror, but the author is almost sure that +it was only his watch ticking. It had begun to go that week, after days +of unexplained idleness. If we <i>did</i> have to pay for finding the +Enchanceried House, this was when we paid.</p> + +<p>There <i>were</i> feet on the stairs. We all heard them. And voices. The +author distinctly heard the words 'replete with every modern +inconvenience,'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> and 'pleasantly situate ten minutes from tram and +rail.'</p> + +<p>And Oswald, at least, understood that, somehow or other, our house had +got itself disenchanceried, and that the owner was trying to let it.</p> + +<p>We held our breaths till they were nearly choked out of us.</p> + +<p>The steps came nearer and nearer. They came along the passage, and +stopped at the door.</p> + +<p>'This is the nursery,' said a manly voice. 'Ah, locked! I quite +understood from the agent that the keys were in the hall.'</p> + +<p>Of course <i>we</i> had the keys, and this was the moment that Noël chose for +dropping them. Why he was fingering them where they lay on the +mantelpiece the author does not know, and never will know. There is +something about 'previously demented' in some Latin chap—Virgil or +Lucretius—that seems to hit the nail on the head. The keys fell on the +cracked hearthstone with a clang that Oswald, at any rate, will never +forget.</p> + +<p>There was an awful silence—quite a long one.</p> + +<p>Then another voice said:</p> + +<p>'There's someone in there.'</p> + +<p>'Look at that bench,' said the other man; 'it's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> coiners' work, that's +what it is, but there's nobody there. The keys must have <i>blown</i> down!'</p> + +<p>The two voices talked some time, but we could not hear all their +conversation. We were all wondering, as it turned out afterwards, what +exactly the utmost rigour of the law was. Because, of course, we knew we +were trespassers of the very deepest dye, even if we could prove that we +were not real coiners.</p> + +<p>'No,' we heard one of them say, 'if we go for the police very likely the +gang will return and destroy everything. There's no one here now. Let's +secure the evidence. We can easily break the door down.'</p> + +<p>It is a sickening feeling when the evidence against you is going to be +secured, and you don't know what the punishment for coining is, or +whether anyone will believe you if you say you were only playing at it.</p> + +<p>We exchanged pallid glances.</p> + +<p>We could hear the two men shaking the door, and we had no means of +knowing just how weak it was, never having seriously tampered with it +ourselves.</p> + +<p>It was then that Noël suddenly went quite mad. I think it was due to +something old nurse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> had read to us at breakfast that day about a boy of +eight who played on the fiddle, and composed pieces of music. Affected +young ass!</p> + +<p>He darted from us into the middle of the room, where the two intruders +could see him, and said:</p> + +<p>'Don't break down the door! The villains may return any moment and +destroy you. Fetch the police!'</p> + +<p>The surprised outsiders could find no word but 'Er?'</p> + +<p>'You are surprised to see me here,' said Noël, not taking any notice of +the furious looks of the rest of us. 'I am an infant prodigy. I play the +violin at concerts; I play it beautifully. They take me to London to +play in a closed carriage, so that I can't tell anyone my woes on the +way.'</p> + +<p>'My poor child!' said one of the outsiders; 'tell us all about it. We +must rescue you.'</p> + +<p>'Born of poor but honest parents,' said Noël—and this was what nurse +had read out to us—'my musical talent early manifested itself on a toy +violin, the gift of a devoted great-aunt. Torn from my home——I say, do +fetch the police. If the monsters who live on my violin-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>playing return +and find you here, they will brain you with the tools of their trade, +and I shall be lost.'</p> + +<p>'Their trade?' said one of them. 'What trade?'</p> + +<p>'They are coiners,' said Noël, 'as well as what they do to me to make me +play.'</p> + +<p>'But if we leave you?'</p> + +<p>'Oh, they won't hurt <i>me</i>,' cried Noël, 'because I have to play to-night +at Exeter Hall. Fly—fly for the police! They may come up behind you any +moment and cleave you to the chine.'</p> + +<p>And they actually flew. The present author would have known instantly +that it was rot that about cleaving chines, but the man who wanted to +let the Disenchanteried House and the man who wanted to have it let to +him were of other mettle.</p> + +<p>We had remained perfectly still and silent. Of course, if the outsiders +had attacked Noël, his brothers would have rushed to his rescue.</p> + +<p>As soon as the retreating boots of the outsiders grew fainter on the +stairs, Noël turned green, and had to be revived by splashings from the +brotherly coal-scuttle full of water. He got better directly, and we all +scooted home to old nurse's, leaving our coining plant without a pang. +All great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> generals say that a retreat is best conducted without +impediments.</p> + +<p>Noël was so ill he had to go to bed and stay there. This was as well, +because of the neighbourhood being scoured for the ill-used infant +prodigy that had been imprisoned in the Enchanceried House. He got all +right again in time to go home when father came up for us. While he was +in bed he wrote a long poem in six different coloured chalks, called +'The Enchanceried Coiners, or the Liar's Remorse.' So I know he was +sorry for what he had done. He told me he could not think what made him, +and of course it was very wrong, but it did save our bacon, and preserve +us from the noisome cells and bread and water that I am sure are the +real meaning of the 'utmost rigour of the law.'</p> + +<p>Really the worst of it all was that while we were trembling in the +coiners' den, with the two outside gentlemen snorting and whispering on +the other side of the gate-door, H. O. had got up out of his bed at home +and answered the door. (Old nurse had gone out to get a lettuce and an +aerated loaf for tea.) He answered it to a butcher's bill for fifteen +and sevenpence that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> the butcher's little girl had brought, and he paid +it with six of the pennies that we had disguised as half-crowns, and +told the little girl to call for the sevenpence in the morning. I +believe many people have been hanged for less. It was lucky for H. O. +that old nurse was a friend of the butcher's, and able to persuade him +that it was only a joke. In sterner times, like the French Revolution +... but Alice does not like to think what would have happened then. As +this is the twentieth century, and not the eighteenth, our all going +down to the butcher and saying we were sorry made it all right. But +suppose it had been in other dates!</p> + +<p>The butcher's wife gave us cake and ginger wine, and was very jolly. She +asked us where we had got the false half-crowns. Oswald said they had +been given us. This was true, but when they were given us they were +pennies.</p> + +<p>Did Oswald tell a lie to the butcher? He has often wondered. He hopes +not. It is easy to know whether a thing is a lie or not when nothing +depends on it. But when events are happening, and the utmost rigour of +the law may be the result of your making a mistake, you have to tell the +truth as carefully as you can.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p> + +<p>No English gentleman tells a lie—Oswald knows that, of course. But an +Englishman is not obliged to criminalate himself. The rules of honour +and the laws of your country are very puzzling and contradictory.</p> + +<p>But the butcher got paid afterwards in real money—a half-sovereign and +two half-crowns, and seven unsilvered pennies. So nobody was injured, +and the author thinks that is the great thing after all.</p> + +<p>All the same, if ever he goes to stay with old nurse again, he thinks he +will tell the butcher. All in confidence. He does not like to have any +doubts about such a serious thing as the honour of a Bastable.</p> + +<p class="center">THE END OF OSWALD'S PART OF THE BOOK.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>OTHERS</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 525px;"> +<img src="images/gs06.jpg" width="525" height="600" alt="'A little person in a large white cap.'—Page 257" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'A little person in a large white cap.'—Page 257</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="MOLLY_THE_MEASLES_AND_THE_MISSING_WILL" id="MOLLY_THE_MEASLES_AND_THE_MISSING_WILL"></a>MOLLY, THE MEASLES, AND THE MISSING WILL</h2> + + +<p>We all think a great deal too much of ourselves. We all believe—every +man, woman, and child of us—in our very insidest inside heart, that no +one else in the world is at all like us, and that things happen to us +that happen to no one else. Now, this is a great mistake, because +however different we may be in the colour of our hair and eyes, the +inside part, the part that we feel and suffer with, is pretty much alike +in all of us. But no one seems to know this except me. That is why +people won't tell you the really wonderful things that happen to them: +they think you are so different that you could never believe the +wonderful things. But of course you are not different really, and you +can believe wonderful things as easily as anybody else. For instance, +you will be able to believe this story quite easily,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> for though it +didn't happen to you, that was merely an accident. It might have +happened, quite easily, to you or any else. As it happened, it happened +to Maria Toodlethwaite Carruthers.</p> + +<p>You will already have felt a little sorry for Maria, and you will have +thought that I might have chosen a prettier name for her. And so I +might. But I did not do the choosing. Her parents did that. And they +called her Maria after an aunt who was disagreeable, and would have been +more disagreeable than ever if the baby had been called Enid or Elaine +or Vivien, or any of the pretty names that will readily occur to you. +She was called Toodlethwaite after the eminent uncle of that name who +had an office in London and an office in Liverpool, and was said to be +rolling in money.</p> + +<p>'I <i>should</i> like to see Uncle Toodlethwaite rolling in his money,' said +Maria, 'but he never does it when I'm about.'</p> + +<p>The third name, Carruthers, was Maria's father's name, and she often +felt thankful that it was no worse. It might so easily have been Snooks +or Prosser.</p> + +<p>Of course no one called Maria Maria except Aunt Maria herself. Her Aunt +Eliza, who was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> very refined, always wrote in the improving books that +she gave Maria on her birthday, 'To dearest Marie, from her affectionate +Aunt Elise,' and when she spoke to her she called her Mawrie. Her +brothers and sisters, whenever they wanted to be aggravating, called her +Toodles, but at times of common friendliness they called her Molly, and +so did most other people, and so shall I, and so may you.</p> + +<p>Molly and her brothers and sisters were taken care of by a young woman +who was called a nursery-governess. I don't know why, for she did not +nurse them, and she certainly did not govern them. In her last situation +she had been called a lady-help—I don't know the why of that, either. +Her name was Simpshall, and she was always saying 'Don't,' and 'You +mustn't do that,' and 'Put that down directly,' and 'I shall tell your +mamma if you don't leave off.' She never seemed to know what you ought +to do, but only what you oughtn't.</p> + +<p>One day the children had a grand battle with all the toy soldiers, and +the little brass cannons that shoot peas, and the other kind that shoot +pink caps with '<i>Fortes Amorces</i>' on the box.</p> + +<p>Bertie, who always liked to have everything<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> as real as possible, did +not like the soldiers to be standing on the bare polished mahogany of +the dining-table.</p> + +<p>'It's not a bit like the field of glory,' he said. And indeed it was +not.</p> + +<p>So he borrowed the large kitchen knife-box and went out, and brought it +in full of nice real clean mould out of the garden. Half a dozen +knife-box-fulls were needed to cover the table. Then the children made +forts and ditches, and brought in sprigs of geranium and calceolaria and +box and yew and made trees and ambushes and hedges. It was a lovely +battlefield, and would have melted the heart of anyone but a +nursery-governess.</p> + +<p>But she just said, 'What a disgusting mess! How naughty you are!' and +fetched a brush and swept the field of glory away into the dustpan. +There was only just time to save the lives of the soldiers.</p> + +<p>And then Cecily put the knife-box back without saying what it had been +used for, and the knives were put into it, so that at dinner everything +tasted of earth, and the grit got between people's teeth, so that they +could not eat their mutton or potatoes or cabbage, or even their gravy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p> + +<p>This, of course, was entirely Miss Simpshall's fault. If she had not +behaved as she did Bertie or Eva would have remembered to clean out the +knife-box. As it was, the story of the field of glory came out over the +gritty mutton and things, and father sent all the battlefield-makers to +bed.</p> + +<p>Molly was out of this. She was staying with Aunt Eliza, who was kind, if +refined. She was to come back the next day. But as mother was on her way +to the station to meet Aunt Maria for a day's shopping, she met a +telegraph boy, who gave her a telegram from Aunt Eliza saying:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'Am going to Palace to-day instead of to-morrow. Fetch +Marie.—<span class="smcap">Elise.</span>'</p></div> + +<p>So mother fetched her from Aunt Eliza's flat in Kensington and took her +shopping with Aunt Maria. There were hours of shopping in hot, stuffy +shops full of tired shop-people and angry ladies, and even the new hat +and jacket and the strawberry ice at the pastrycook's in Oxford Street +did not make up to Molly for that tiresome day.</p> + +<p>Still, she was out of the battlefield row. Only as she did not know that +it could not comfort her.</p> + +<p>When Aunt Maria had been put into her train, mother and Molly went home. +As their cab<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> stopped, Miss Simpshall rushed out between the two dusty +laburnums by the gate.</p> + +<p>'Don't come in!' said Miss Simpshall wildly.</p> + +<p>'My dear Miss Simpshall——' said mother.</p> + +<p>The hair of the nursery-governess waved wildly in the evening breeze. +She shut the ornamental iron gate in mother's face.</p> + +<p>'Don't come in!' said Miss Simpshall again. 'You shan't, you +mustn't——'</p> + +<p>'Don't talk nonsense,' said mother, looking very white. 'Have you gone +mad?'</p> + +<p>Miss Simpshall said she hadn't.</p> + +<p>'But what's the matter?' said mother.</p> + +<p>'Measles,' said Miss Simpshall; 'it's all out on them—thick.'</p> + +<p>'Good gracious!' said mother.</p> + +<p>'And I thought you'd perhaps just as soon Molly didn't have it, Mrs. +Carruthers. And this is all the thanks I get, being told I'm insane.'</p> + +<p>'I'm sorry,' said mother absently. 'Yes, you were quite right. Keep the +children warm. Has the doctor seen them?'</p> + +<p>'Not yet; I've only just found it out. Oh, it's terrible! Their hands +and faces are all scarlet with purple spots.'</p> + +<p>'Oh dear, oh dear! I hope it's nothing worse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> than measles! I'll call in +and send the doctor,' said mother; 'I shall be home by the last train. +It's a blessing Molly's clothes are all here in her box.'</p> + +<p>So Molly was whisked off in the cab.</p> + +<p>'I must take you back to your aunt's,' said mother.</p> + +<p>'But Aunt Eliza's gone to stay at the Bishop's Palace,' said Molly.</p> + +<p>'So she has; we must go to your Aunt Maria's. Oh dear!'</p> + +<p>'Never mind, mother,' said Molly, slipping her hand into mother's; +'perhaps they won't have it very badly. And I'll be very good, and try +not to have it at all.'</p> + +<p>This was very brave of Molly; she would much rather have had measles +than have gone to stay at Aunt Maria's.</p> + +<p>Aunt Maria lived in a lovely old house down in Kent. It had beautiful +furniture and beautiful gardens; in fact, as Bertie said, it was a place</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Where every prospect pleases,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And only aunt is vile.'</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Molly and her mother arrived there just at supper-time. Aunt Maria was +very surprised and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> displeased. Molly went to bed at once, and her +supper was brought up on a tray by Clements, aunt's own maid. It was +cold lamb and mint-sauce, and jelly and custard.</p> + +<p>'Your aunt said to bring you biscuits and milk,' said Clements, 'but I +thought you'd like this better.'</p> + +<p>'You're a darling!' said Molly; 'I was so afraid you'd be gone for your +holiday. It's not nearly so beastly when you're here.'</p> + +<p>Clements was flattered, and returned the compliment.</p> + +<p>'And you aren't so bad when you're good, miss,' she said. 'Eat it up. +I'll come back and bring you a night-light by-and-by.'</p> + +<p>One thing Molly liked about Aunt Maria's was that there were no +children's bedrooms—no bare rooms with painted furniture and Dutch +drugget. All the rooms were 'best rooms', with soft carpets +and splendid old furniture. The beds were all four-posters with carved +pillars and silk damask curtains, and there were sure to be the +loveliest things to make believe with in whatever room you happened to +be put into. In this room there were cases of stuffed birds, and a +stuffed pike that was just like life. There<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> was a wonderful old +cabinet, black and red and gold, very mysterious, and oak chests, and +two fat white Indian idols sitting cross-legged on the mantelpiece. It +was very delightful; but Molly liked it best in the daytime. And she was +glad of the night-light.</p> + +<p>She thought of Bertie, and Cicely, and Eva, and baby, and Vincent, and +wondered whether measles hurt much.</p> + +<p>Next day Aunt Maria was quite bearable. The worst thing she said was +about people coming when they weren't expected, and upsetting +everything.</p> + +<p>'I'll try not to upset anything,' said Molly, and went out and got the +gardener to put up a swing for her.</p> + +<p>Then she upset herself out of it, and got a bump on her forehead the +size of a hen's egg, and that, as Aunt Maria very properly said, kept +her out of mischief for the rest of the day.</p> + +<p>Next morning Molly had two letters. The first was from Bertie. It said:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'<span class="smcap">Dear Molly</span>,</p> + +<p>'It is rough lines on you, but we did not mean to keep it up, and +it is your fault for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> coming home the day before you ought to have. +We did it to kid old Simpshall, because she was so beastly about us +making a real battlefield. We only painted all the parts of us that +show with vermilion, and put spots—mixed crimson lake and Prussian +blue—all over, and we pulled down the blinds and said our heads +ached, and so they did with crying—I mean the girls cried. She was +afraid to come near us; but she was sorry she had been such a +beast. And when she had come to the door and said so through the +keyhole we owned up, but you had gone by then. It was a rare +lark, but we've got three days bedder for it. I shall lower this on +the end of a fishingline to the baker's boy, and he will post it. +It is like a dungeon. He is going to bring us tarts, like a +faithful page.</p> + +<p class="center"> +'Your affectionate bro.,<br /> +'<span class="smcap">Bertrand de Lisle Carruthers.</span>'<br /> +</p> + +</div> + +<p>The other letter was from mother.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'<span class="smcap">My darling Molly</span>,</p> + +<p>It was all a naughty hoax, intended to annoy poor Miss Simpshall. +Your brothers and sisters had painted their faces red and +purple<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>—they had not measles at all. But since you <i>are</i> at Aunt +Maria's I think you may as well stay ...'</p></div> + +<p>'How awful!' said Molly. 'It <i>is</i> too bad!'</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'... stay and make it your annual visit. Be a good girl, dear, and +do not forget to wear your pinafores in the morning.</p> + +<p class="center"> +'Your loving <span class="smcap">Mother</span>.'<br /> +</p> + +</div> + +<p>Molly wrote a nice little letter to her mother. To her brother she said:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Dear Bertie</span>,</p> + +<p>I think you are beasts to have let me in for this. You might have +thought of me. I shall not forgive you till the sun is just going +down, and I would not then, only it is so wrong not to. I wish +<i>you</i> had been named Maria, and had to stay here instead of me.</p> + +<p class="center"> +'Your broken-hearted sister,<br /> + +'<span class="smcap">Molly Carruthers.</span>'<br /> +</p> + +</div> + +<p>When Molly stayed at the White House she was accustomed to read aloud in +the mornings from 'Ministering Children' or 'Little Pilgrims,' while +Aunt Maria sewed severely. But that morning Aunt Maria did not send for +her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Your aunt's not well,' Clements told her; 'she won't be down before +lunch. Run along, do, miss, and walk in the garden like a young lady.'</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 424px;"> +<img src="images/gs07.jpg" width="424" height="600" alt="'Molly had a splendid ride behind the groom.'—Page 134" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'Molly had a splendid ride behind the groom.'—Page 134</span> +</div> + +<p>Molly chose rather to swagger out into the stableyard like a young +gentleman. The groom was saddling the sorrel horse.</p> + +<p>'I've got to take a telegram to the station,' said he.</p> + +<p>'Take me,' said Molly.</p> + +<p>'Likely! And what ud your aunt say?'</p> + +<p>'She won't know,' said Molly, 'and if she does I'll say I made you.'</p> + +<p>He laughed, and Molly had a splendid ride behind the groom, with her +arms so tight round his waistcoat that he could hardly breathe.</p> + +<p>When they got to the station a porter lifted her down, and the groom let +her send off the telegram. It was to Uncle Toodlethwaite, and it said:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'Please come down at once urgent business most important don't fail +bring Bates.—<span class="smcap">Maria Carruthers.</span>'</p></div> + +<p>So Molly knew something very out of the way had happened, and she was +glad that her aunt should have something to think of besides<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> her, +because the White House would have been a very nice place to stay at if +Aunt Maria had not so often remembered to do her duty by you.</p> + + +<p>In the afternoon Uncle Toodlethwaite came, and he and Aunt Maria and a +person in black with a shining black bag—Molly supposed he was Mr. +Bates, who was to be brought by Uncle Toodlethwaite—sat in the +dining-room with the door shut.</p> + +<p>Molly went to help the kitchenmaid shell peas, in the little grass +courtyard in the middle of the house. They sat on the kitchen steps, and +Molly could hear the voices of Clements and the housekeeper through the +open window of the servants' hall. She heard, but she did not think it +was eavesdropping, or anything dishonourable, like listening at doors. +They were talking quite out loud.</p> + +<p>'And a dreadful blow it will be to us all, if true,' the housekeeper was +saying.</p> + +<p>'<i>She</i> thinks it's true,' said Clements; 'cried her eyes out, she did, +and wired for her brother-in-law once removed.'</p> + +<p>'Meaning her brother's brother-in-law—I see. But I don't know as I +really understand the ins and outs of it even yet.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Well, it's like this,' said Clements: 'missis an' her brother they used +to live here along of their uncle, and he had a son, a regular bad egg +he was, and the old master said he shouldn't ever have a penny of his +money. He said he'd leave it to Mr. Carruthers—that's missis's brother, +see?'</p> + +<p>'That means father,' thought Molly.</p> + +<p>'And he'd leave missis the house and enough money to keep it up in +style. He was a warm man, it seems. Well, then the son's drowned at +sea—ship went down and all aboard perished. Just as well, because when +the old man died they couldn't find no will. So it all comes to missis +and her brother, there being no other relations near or far, and they +divides it the same as the old man had always said he wished. You see +what I mean?'</p> + +<p>'Near enough,' said the housekeeper; 'and then?'</p> + +<p>'Why, then,' said Clements, 'comes this letter—this very morning—from +a lawyer, to say as this bad egg of a son wasn't drowned at all: he was +in foreign parts, and only now heard of his father's decease, and tends +without delay to claim the property, which all comes to him, the +deceased have died insensate—that means without a will.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I say, Clements,' Molly sung out, 'you must have read the letter. Did +aunt show it to you?'</p> + +<p>There was a dead silence; the kitchenmaid giggled. Someone whispered +inside the room. Then the housekeeper's voice called softly, 'Come in +here a minute, miss,' and the window was sharply shut.</p> + +<p>Molly emptied the peascods out of her pinafore and went in.</p> + +<p>Directly she was inside the door Clements caught her by the arm and +shook her.</p> + +<p>'You nasty mean, prying little cat!' she said; 'and me getting you jelly +and custard, and I don't know what all.'</p> + +<p>'I'm not,' said Molly. 'Don't, Clements; you hurt.'</p> + +<p>'You deserve me to,' was the reply. 'Doesn't she, Mrs. Williams?'</p> + +<p>'Don't you know it's wrong to listen, miss?' asked Mrs. Williams.</p> + +<p>'I didn't listen,' said Molly indignantly. 'You were simply shouting. No +one could help hearing. Me and Jane would have had to put our fingers in +our ears <i>not</i> to hear.'</p> + +<p>'I didn't think it of you,' said Clements, beginning to sniff.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I don't know what you're making all this fuss about,' said Molly; 'I'm +not a sneak.'</p> + +<p>'Have a piece of cake, miss,' said Mrs. Williams, 'and give me your word +it shan't go any further.'</p> + +<p>'I don't want your cake; you'd better give it to Clements. It's she that +tells things—not me.'</p> + +<p>Molly began to cry.</p> + +<p>'There, I declare, miss, I'm sorry I shook you, but I was that put out. +There! I ask your pardon; I can't do more. You wouldn't get poor +Clements into trouble, I'm sure.'</p> + +<p>'Of course I wouldn't; you might have known that.'</p> + +<p>Well, peace was restored; but Molly wouldn't have any cake.</p> + +<p>That evening Jane wore a new silver brooch, shaped like a horseshoe, +with an arrow through it.</p> + +<p>It was after tea, when Uncle Toodlethwaite was gone, that Molly, +creeping quietly out to see the pigs fed, came upon her aunt at the end +of the hollyhock walk. Her aunt was sitting on the rustic seat that the +crimson rambler rose makes an arbour over. Her handkerchief was held to +her face with both hands, and her thin shoulders were shaking with +sobs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> + +<p>And at once Molly forgot how disagreeable Aunt Maria had always been, +and how she hated her. She ran to her aunt and threw her arms round her +neck. Aunt Maria jumped in her seat, but she let the arms stay where +they were, though they made it quite difficult for her to use her +handkerchief.</p> + +<p>'Don't cry, dear ducky <i>darling</i> Aunt Maria,' said Molly—'oh, don't! +What <i>is</i> the matter?'</p> + +<p>'Nothing you would understand,' said Aunt Maria gruffly; 'run away and +play, there's a good child.'</p> + +<p>'But I don't want to play while you're crying. I'm sure I could +understand, dear little auntie.'</p> + +<p>Molly embraced the tall, gaunt figure of the aunt.</p> + +<p>'Dear little auntie, tell Molly.'</p> + +<p>She used just the tone she was used to use to her baby brother.</p> + +<p>'It's—it's business,' said Aunt Maria, sniffing.</p> + +<p>'I know business is dreadfully bad—father says so,' said Molly. 'Don't +send me away, auntie; I'll be as quiet as a mouse. I'll just sit and +cuddle you till you feel better.'</p> + +<p>She got her arms round the aunt's waist, and snuggled her head against a +thin arm. Aunt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> Maria had always been one for keeping children in their +proper places. Yet somehow now Molly's proper place seemed to be just +where she was—where she had never been before.</p> + +<p>'You're a kind little girl, Maria,' she said presently.</p> + +<p>'I wish I could do something,' said Molly. 'Wouldn't you feel better if +you told me? They say it does you good not to grieve in solitary +concealment. I'm sure I could understand if you didn't use long words.'</p> + +<p>And, curiously enough, Aunt Maria did tell her, almost exactly what she +had heard from Clements.</p> + +<p>'And I know there was a will leaving it all to your father and me,' she +said; 'I saw it signed. It was witnessed by the butler we had then—he +died the year after—and by Mr. Sheldon: he died, too, out hunting.'</p> + +<p>Her voice softened, and Molly snuggled closer and said:</p> + +<p>'Poor Mr. Sheldon!'</p> + +<p>'He and I were to have been married,' said Aunt Maria suddenly. 'That's +his picture in the hall between the carp and your Great-uncle +Carruthers.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Poor auntie!' said Molly, thinking of the handsome man in scarlet next +the stuffed carp—'oh, poor auntie, I do love you so!'</p> + +<p>Aunt Maria put an arm round her.</p> + +<p>'Oh, my dear,' she said, 'you don't understand. All the happy things +that ever happened to me happened here, and all the sad things too; if +they turn me out I shall die—I know I shall. It's been bad enough,' she +went on, more to herself than to Molly; 'but there's always been the +place just as it was when I was a girl, when he used to come here: so +bold and laughing he always was. I can see him here quite plainly; I've +only to shut my eyes. But I couldn't see him anywhere else.'</p> + +<p>'Don't wills get hidden away sometimes?' Molly asked; for she had read +stories about such things.</p> + +<p>'We looked everywhere,' said Aunt Maria—'everywhere. We had detectives +from London, because there were things he'd left to other people, and we +wanted to carry out his wishes; but we couldn't find it. Uncle must have +destroyed it, and meant to make another, only he never did—he never +did. Oh, I hope the dead can't see what we suffer! If my Uncle +Carruthers and dear James could see me turned out of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> old place, it +would break their hearts even up in heaven.'</p> + +<p>Molly was silent. Suddenly her aunt seemed to awake from a dream.</p> + +<p>'Good gracious, child,' she said, 'what nonsense I've been talking! Go +away and play, and forget all about it. Your own troubles will begin +soon enough.'</p> + +<p>'I do love you, auntie,' said Molly, and went.</p> + +<p>Aunt Maria never unbent again as she had done that evening; but Molly +felt a difference that made all the difference. She was not afraid of +her aunt now, and she loved her. Besides, things were happening. The +White House was now the most interesting place in the world.</p> + +<p>Be sure that Molly set to work at once to look for the missing will. +London detectives were very careless; she was certain they were. She +opened drawers and felt in the backs of cupboards; she prodded the +padding of chairs, listening for the crackling of paper inside among the +stuffing; she tapped the woodwork of the house all over for secret +panels; but she did not find the will.</p> + +<p>She could not believe that her Great-uncle Carruthers would have been so +silly as to burn a will that he knew might be wanted at any moment.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> She +used to stand in front of his portrait, and look at it; he did not look +at all silly. And she used to look at the portrait of handsome, laughing +Mr. Sheldon, who had been killed out hunting instead of marrying Aunt +Maria, and more than once she said:</p> + +<p>'You might tell me where it is; you look as if you knew.'</p> + +<p>But he never altered his jolly smile.</p> + +<p>Molly thought of missing wills from the moment her eyes opened in the +morning to the time when they closed at night.</p> + +<p>Then came the dreadful day when Uncle Toodlethwaite and Mr. Bates came +down, and Uncle Toodlethwaite said:</p> + +<p>'I'm afraid there's no help for it, Maria; you can delay the thing a +bit, but you'll have to turn out in the end.'</p> + +<p>It was on that night that the wonderful thing happened—the thing that +Molly has never told to anyone except me, because she thought no one +could believe it. She went to bed as usual and to sleep, and she woke +suddenly, hearing someone call 'Molly, Molly!'</p> + +<p>She sat up in bed; the room was full of moonlight. As usual her first +waking thought was of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> the missing will. Had it been found? Was her aunt +calling her to tell the good news? No, the room was quite still. She was +alone.</p> + +<p>The moonlight fell full on the old black and red and gold cabinet; that, +she had often thought, was just the place where a will would be hidden. +It might have a secret drawer, that the London detectives had missed. +She had often looked over it carefully, but now she got out of bed and +lighted her candle, and went over to the cabinet to have one more look. +She opened all the drawers, pressed all the knobs in the carved +brasswork. There was a little door in the middle; she knew that the +little cupboard behind it was empty. It had red lacquered walls, and the +back wall was looking-glass. She opened the little cupboard, held up her +candle, and looked in. She expected to see her own face in the glass as +usual, but she did not see it; instead there was a black space, the +opening to something not quite black. She could see +lights—candle-lights—and the space grew bigger, or she grew smaller, +she never knew which. And next moment she was walking through the +opening.</p> + +<p>'Now I am going to see something really worth seeing,' said Molly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> + +<p>She was not frightened—from first to last she was not at all +frightened.</p> + +<p>She walked straight through the back of the cabinet in the best bedroom +upstairs into the library on the ground-floor. That sounds like +nonsense, but Molly declares it was so.</p> + +<p>There were candles on the table and papers, and there were people in the +library; they did not see her.</p> + +<p>There was great-uncle Carruthers and Aunt Maria, very pretty, with long +curls and a striped gray silk dress, like in the picture in the +drawing-room. There was handsome, jolly Mr. Sheldon in a brown coat. An +old servant was just going out of the door.</p> + +<p>'That's settled, then,' said Great-uncle Carruthers; 'now, my girl, +bed.'</p> + +<p>Aunt Maria—such a young, pretty Aunt Maria, Molly would never have +known her but for the portrait—kissed her uncle, and then she took a +Christmas rose out of her dress and put it in Mr. Sheldon's buttonhole, +and put up her face to him and said, 'Good-night, James.' He kissed her; +Molly heard the loud, jolly sound of the kiss, and Aunt Maria went away.</p> + +<p>Then the old man said: 'You'll leave this at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> Bates' for me, Sheldon; +you're safer than the post.'</p> + +<p>Handsome Mr. Sheldon said he would. Then the lights went out, and Molly +was in bed again.</p> + +<p>Quite suddenly it was daylight. Jolly Mr. Sheldon, in his red coat, was +standing by the cabinet. The little cupboard door was open.</p> + +<p>'By George!' he said, 'it's ten days since I promised to take that will +up to Bates, and I never gave it another thought. All your fault, Maria, +my dear. You shouldn't take up all my thoughts; 'I'll take it +to-morrow.'</p> + +<p>Molly heard something click, and he went out of the room whistling.</p> + +<p>Molly lay still. She felt there was more to come. And the next thing was +that she was looking out of the window, and saw something carried across +the lawn on a hurdle with two scarlet coats laid over it, and she knew +it was handsome Mr. Sheldon, and that he would not carry the will to +Bates to-morrow, or do anything else in this world ever any more.</p> + +<p>When Molly woke in the morning she sprang out of bed and ran to the +cabinet. There was nothing in the looking-glass cupboard.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> + +<p>All the same, she ran straight to her aunt's room. It was long before +the hour when Clements soberly tapped, bringing hot water.</p> + +<p>'Wake up, auntie!' she cried.</p> + +<p>And auntie woke up, very cross indeed.</p> + +<p>'Look here, auntie,' she said, 'I'm certain there's a secret place in +that cabinet in my room, and the will's in it; I know it is.'</p> + +<p>'You've been dreaming,' said Aunt Maria severely; 'go back to bed. +You'll catch your death of cold paddling about barefoot like that.'</p> + +<p>Molly had to go, but after breakfast she began again.</p> + +<p>'But why do you think so?' asked Aunt Maria.</p> + +<p>And Molly, who thought she knew that nobody would believe her story, +could only say:</p> + +<p>'I don't know, but I am quite sure.'</p> + +<p>'Nonsense!' said Aunt Maria.</p> + +<p>'Aunty,' Molly said, 'don't you think uncle might have given the will to +Mr. Sheldon to take to Mr. Bates, and he may have put it in the secret +place and forgotten?'</p> + +<p>'What a head the child's got—full of fancies!' said Aunt Maria.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> + +<p>'If he slept in that room—did he ever sleep in that room?'</p> + +<p>'Always, whenever he stayed here.'</p> + +<p>'Was it long after the will-signing that poor Mr. Sheldon died?'</p> + +<p>'Ten days,' said Aunt Maria shortly; 'run away and play. I've letters to +write.'</p> + +<p>But because it seemed good to leave no stone unturned, one of those +letters was to a cabinet-maker in Rochester, and the groom took it in +the dog-cart, and the cabinet-maker came back with him.</p> + +<p>And there <i>was</i> a secret hiding-place behind the looking-glass in the +little red lacquered cupboard in the old black and red and gold cabinet, +and in that secret hiding-place was the missing will, and on it lay a +brown flower that dropped to dust when it was moved.</p> + +<p>'It's a Christmas rose,' said Molly.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>'So, you see, really it was a very good thing the others pretended to +have measles, because if they hadn't I shouldn't have come to you, and +if I hadn't come I shouldn't have known there was a will missing, and if +I hadn't known<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> that I shouldn't have found it, should I, aunty, should +I, uncle?' said Molly, wild with delight.</p> + +<p>'No, dear,' said Aunt Maria, patting her hand.</p> + +<p>'Little girls,' said Uncle Toodlethwaite, 'should be seen and not heard. +But I admit that simulated measles may sometimes be a blessing in +disguise.'</p> + +<p>All the young Carruthers thought so when they got the five pounds that +Aunt Maria sent them. Miss Simpshall got five pounds too because it was +owing to her that Molly was taken to the White House that day. Molly got +a little pearl necklace as well as five pounds.</p> + +<p>'Mr. Sheldon gave it to me,' said Aunt Maria. 'I wouldn't give it to +anyone but you.'</p> + +<p>Molly hugged her in silent rapture.</p> + +<p>That just shows how different our Aunt Marias would prove to be if they +would only let us know them as they really are. It really is not wise to +conceal <i>everything</i> from children.</p> + +<p>You see, if Aunt Maria had not told Molly about Mr. Sheldon, she would +never have thought about him enough to see his ghost. Now Molly is grown +up she tells me it was only a dream. But even if it was it is just as +wonderful, and served the purpose just as well.</p> + +<p>Perhaps you would like to know what Aunt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> Maria said when the +cabinet-maker opened the secret hiding-place and she saw the paper with +the brown Christmas rose on it? Clements was there, as well as the +cabinet-maker and Molly. She said right out before them all, 'Oh, James, +my dear!' and she picked up the flower before she opened the will. And +it fell into brown dust in her hand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BILLY_AND_WILLIAM" id="BILLY_AND_WILLIAM"></a>BILLY AND WILLIAM</h2> + +<h3>A HISTORICAL TALE FOR THE YOUNG</h3> + + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">'<i>Have you found your prize essay?</i>'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">'<i>No; but I have found the bicycle of the butcher's boy.</i>'</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p>It is rather trying to have to walk three miles to the station, to say +nothing of the three miles back, to meet a cousin you have never seen +and never wish to see, especially if you have to leave a kite half made, +and there is no proper lock to the shed you are making your kite in.</p> + +<p>The road was flat and dusty, the sun felt much too warm on his back, the +hill to the station was long and steep, and the train was nearly an hour +late, because it was a train on the South-Eastern Railway. So William +was exceedingly cross, and he would have been crosser still if he could +have known that I should ever call him William, for though that happened +to be his name, the one he 'answered to' (as the stolen-dog +advertisements say) was 'Billy.' So perhaps it would be kind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> of me to +speak of him as Billy, because it is rather horrid to do things you know +people won't like, even if you think they'll never know you've done +them.</p> + +<p>Well, the train came in, and it was annoying to Billy, very, that four +or five boys should bundle out of the train, and he should have to go up +to them one after the other and say:</p> + +<p>'I say, is your name Harold St. Leger?'</p> + +<p>He did not particularly like the look of any of the boys, and of course +it happened that the very last one he spoke to was Harold, and that he +was also the one whom Billy liked least particularly of the whole lot.</p> + +<p>'Oh, you are, are you?' was all he could find to say when Harold had +blushingly owned to his name. Then in manly tones Billy gave the order +about Harold's luggage and the carrier, said 'Come along!' and Harold +came.</p> + +<p>Harold was a fattish boy with whitey-brown hair, and he was as soft and +white as a silkworm. Billy did not admire him. He himself was hard and +brown, with thin arms and legs and joints like the lumps of clay on +branches that the gardener has grafted. And Harold did not admire <i>him</i>.</p> + +<p>There was little conversation on the way home;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> when you don't want to +have a visitor and he doesn't want to be one, talking is not much fun. +When they got home there was tea. Billy's mother talked politely to +Harold, but that did not make anyone any happier. Then Billy took his +cousin round and showed him the farm and the stock, and Harold was less +interested than you would think a boy could be. At last, weary of trying +to behave nicely, Billy said:</p> + +<p>'I suppose there must be <i>something</i> you like, however much of a muff +you are. Well, you can jolly well find it out for yourself. I'm going to +finish my kite.'</p> + +<p>The silkworm-soft face of Harold lighted up.</p> + +<p>'Oh, <i>I</i> can make kites,' he said; 'I've invented a new kind. I'll help +you if you'll let me.'</p> + +<p>Harold, eager, quick fingered, skilful, in the shed among the string, +and the glue, and the paper, and the bendable, breakable laths, was +quite a different person from Harold, nervous and dull, among the +farmyard beasts. Billy allowed him to help with the kite, and he began +to respect his cousin a little more.</p> + +<p>'Though it's rather like a girl, being so neat with your fingers,' he +said disparagingly.</p> + +<p>'I wish I'd got the proper sort of paper,' Harold<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> said, 'then I'd make +my new patent kite that I've invented; but it's a very extra sort of +kind of paper. I got some once at a butter-shop in Bermondsey, but that +was in a dream.'</p> + +<p>Billy stared.</p> + +<p>'You must be off your chump,' he said; and he felt more sorry than ever +that his jolly country holiday was to be spoiled by a strange cousin, +who ought, perhaps, to be in a lunatic asylum rather than at a +respectable farm.</p> + +<p>That night Billy was awakened from the dreamless sleep which blesses the +sort of boy he was to find Harold excitedly thumping him on the back +with a roll of stiff paper.</p> + +<p>'Wake up,' he said—'wake up! I <i>will</i> tell somebody that's awake. I +dreamed that a jackdaw came in and flew off with that thin paper thing +that was on the chest of drawers with the gilt button at the corner, and +then I dreamed I got up and found this roll of paper up the chimney. And +when I woke up I found <i>it</i> had and <i>I</i> had, and it's the real right +kite-paper for my patent kite—just like I dreamed I bought in the +butter-shop in Bermondsey. And it's five o'clock by the church clock, +and it's quite light. I'm going to get up directly minute and make my +patent kite.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Patent fiddlestick!' replied Billy, sleepy and indignant. 'You get +along and leave me be; you've been dreaming, that's all. Just like a +girl!'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' repeated Harold gently, 'I <i>have</i> been dreaming; but when I woke +up I found <i>it</i> had and <i>I</i> had; and here's the paper, and the flimsy +thing with the gold stud's <i>gone</i>. You get up and see——'</p> + +<p>Billy did. He got up with a bound, and he saw with an eye. And William +turned on Harold and shook him till his teeth nearly rattled in his head +and his pale eyes nearly dropped out. (I have called him William here +because I really think he deserves it. It is a cowardly thing to shake a +cousin, even if you do not happen to be pleased with him.)</p> + +<p>'Wha—wha—what's the matter?' choked the wretched Harold.</p> + +<p>'Why, you miserable little idiot, you've <i>not</i> been dreaming at all! +You've been lying like a silly log, and letting that beastly bird carry +off my prize essay! That's <i>all</i>! And it took me ten days to do, and I +had to get almost all of it out of books, and the worse swat I ever did +in my life. And now it's all no good. And there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> aren't any books down +here to do it again out of. Oh, bother, <i>bother</i>, <span class="smcap">BOTHER</span>!'</p> + +<p>'I'm very sorry for you,' said Harold, 'but I didn't lie like logs—I +did dream—and I've got the kite-paper, and I'll help you write the +essay again if you like.'</p> + +<p>'I shouldn't be surprised if it was all a make-up,' said William. (I +<i>must</i> go on calling him William at present.) 'You've hidden the essay +so as to be able to send it in yourself.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, how <i>can</i> you?' said Harold; and he turned pale just like a girl, +and just like a girl he began to cry.</p> + +<p>'Now, look here,' the enraged William went on, 'I've got to be civil to +you before people; but don't you dare to speak to me when we're alone. +You're either a silly idiot or a sneaking hound, and either way I'm not +going to have anything to do with you.'</p> + +<p>I don't know how he could have done it, but William kept his word, and +for three days he only spoke to Harold when other people were about. +This was horrible for Harold; he had been used to being his father's +pride and his mother's joy, and now he was Nobody's Anything, which is +the saddest thing in the world to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> be. He tried to console himself by +making kites all day long, but even kites cannot comfort you when nobody +loves you, and when you feel that it really is not your fault at all.</p> + +<p>William went about his own affairs; he was not at all happy. He finished +his kite and flew it, and he lost it because the string caught on the +church weather-cock, which cut it in two. And he tried to rewrite his +prize essay, but he couldn't, because he had taken all the stuffing for +it out of books and not out of his head, where it ought to have been.</p> + +<p>Harold found some moments of forgetfulness when he was making the patent +kite. It was very big, and the roll of paper he had found in his dream +in the chimney was exactly the right thing for patent kite-making. But +when it was done, what was the good? There was no one to see him fly it. +He did fly it, and it was perfect. It was shaped like a bird, and it +rose up, and up, and up, and hung poised above the church-tower, light +and steady as a hawk poised above its prey. William wouldn't even come +out to look at it, though Harold begged him to.</p> + +<p>The next morning Harold dreamed that he had not been able to bear things +any longer, and had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> run away, and when William woke up Harold was gone. +Then William remembered how Harold had offered to help him with his +kite, and would have helped him to rewrite the essay, and how through +those three cruel days Harold had again and again tried to make friends, +and how, after all, he was with his own people, and Harold was a +stranger.</p> + +<p>He said, 'Oh, bother, I wish I hadn't!' and he felt that he had been a +beast. This is called Remorse. Then he said, 'I'll find him, and I'll be +as decent to him as I can, poor chap! though he <i>is</i> silly.' This is +called Repentance.</p> + +<p>Then he found a letter on Harold's bed. It said (and it was blotted with +tears, and it had a blob of glue on it):</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'<span class="smcap">Dear Billy</span>,</p> + +<p>'It wasn't my fault about your essay, and I'm sorry, and am going +to run away to India to find my people. I shall go disguised as a +stowaway.</p> + +<p class="center"> +'Your affectionate cousin,<br /> +'<span class="smcap">Harold Egbert Darwin St. Leger.</span>'<br /> +</p> + +</div> + +<p>Billy did not have to show this letter to his mother, because she had +gone away for the day,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> so he did not have to explain to her what a +beast he had been. If he had had to do this, it would have been part of +what is called Expiation.</p> + +<p>Then he got the farm men to go out in every direction, furnished with a +full description of Harold's silkworm-like appearance, and Billy +borrowed a bicycle from a noble-hearted butcher's boy in the village and +set out for Plymouth, because that seemed the likeliest place to look in +for a cousin who was running away disguised as a stowaway. The wind blew +straight towards the sea, and it occurred to Billy—he deserves to be +called Billy now, I think—that the great patent kite, which was ten +feet high, would drag him along like winking if he could only set it +flying, and then tie it to the handle-bar of the bicycle. It was rather +a ticklish business to get the kite up, but the butcher's boy helped—he +had a noble heart—and at last it was done. Billy saw the great +bird-kite flying off towards Plymouth. He hastily knotted the string to +the bicycle handle, held the slack of it in his hand, mounted, started, +paid out the slack of the string, and the next moment the string was +tight, and the kite was pulling Billy and the bicycle along the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> +Plymouth road at the rate of goodness-only-knows-how-improbably many +miles an hour.</p> + +<p>At last he came to the outskirts of Plymouth. I shall not tell you what +Plymouth was like, because Billy did not notice or know at all what it +was like, and there is no reason why you should. Plymouth seemed to +Billy very much like other places. The only odd thing was that he could +not stop his bicycle, though he pulled in the kite string as hard as he +could. He flew through the town. All the traffic stopped to let him +steer his mad-paced machine through the streets, and tradespeople, and +people walking on business, and people walking for pleasure, all stopped +with their respectable mouths wide open to stare at Billy on his +bicycle. And the kite pulled the machine on and on without pause, and at +a furious rate, and Billy, in despair, was just feeling in his pocket +for his knife to cut the string, when some mighty sky-wind seemed to +catch the kite, and it gave a leap and went twenty times as fast as it +had gone before, and the bicycle had to go twenty times as fast too, and +before Billy could say 'Jack Robinson,' or even 'J. R.,' for short, the +kite rushed wildly out to sea, dragging the bicycle after it, right slap +off the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> edge of England. So Billy and the butcher's boy's bicycle were +dragged into the sea? Not at all. They were dragged <i>on</i> to the sea, +which is not at all the same sort of thing. For the kite was such a very +extra patent one, and so perfectly designed and made, that it was just +strong enough to bear the weight of Billy and the bicycle, and to keep +them out of the water. So that Billy found himself riding splendidly +over the waves, and there was no more splashing than there would have +been on the road on a very muddy day. Luckily, the sea was smooth, or I +don't know what would have happened. It was smooth and greeny-blue, and +the sun made diamond sparkles on it, and Billy felt as grand as grand to +be riding over such a glorious floor. It was a fine time, but rather an +anxious one too. Because, suppose the string had not held? No one could +possibly ride a bicycle on the sea unless they had the really only truly +right sort of kite to hold the machine up.</p> + +<p>Away and away went the kite, through the blue air up above, and away and +away went the bicycle over the greeny, foamy sea down below, and away +and away went Billy, and the kite went faster and faster and faster, and +faster went the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> bicycle—much, much faster than you would believe +unless you had seen it as Billy did. And just at the front-door of the +Bay of Biscay the bicycle caught up with a P. and O. steamer, and the +kite followed the course of the ship, and went alongside of it, so you +can guess how fast the bicycle was going.</p> + +<p>And the Captain of the ship hailed Billy through a speaking-trumpet, and +said:</p> + +<p>'Ahoy, there!'</p> + +<p>Billy replied:</p> + +<p>'Ahoy yourself!'</p> + +<p>But the Captain couldn't hear him. So the Captain said something that +Billy couldn't hear either. But the people who were meant to hear heard, +and the great ship stopped, and Billy rode close up to it, and they +hauled him up by the string of the kite, and they put the bicycle in a +safe place, and tied the string to the mast, and then the Captain said:</p> + +<p>'I suppose I'm dreaming you, boy, because what you're doing is +impossible.'</p> + +<p>'I know it is,' said Billy; 'only I'm doing it—at least, I was till you +stopped me.'</p> + +<p>They were both wrong, because, of course, if it had been impossible, +Billy could not have done it;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> but neither of them had a scientific +mind, as you and I have, dear reader.</p> + +<p>So the Captain asked Billy to dinner, which was very nice, only there +was an uncertain feeling about it. And when Billy had had dinner, he +said to the Captain:</p> + +<p>'I must be going.'</p> + +<p>'Is there nothing I can do for you?' said the Captain.</p> + +<p>'I don't know,' said Billy, 'unless you happen to have a boy named +Harold Egbert Darwin St. Leger on board. He said he was going away in a +ship to India, disguised as a stowaway.'</p> + +<p>The Captain at once ordered the ship to be searched for a boy of this +name in this disguise. The crew looked in the hold, and in the galley, +and in the foretop, and on the quarter, and in the gaff, and the jib, +and the topsail, and the boom, but they could not find Harold. They +ransacked the cross-trees, and the engine-room, and the bowsprit; they +explored the backstays, the stays, and the waist, but they found no +stowaway. They examined truck and block, they hunted through every +porthole, they left not an inch of the ribs unexplored; but no Harold. +He was not in any of the belaying-pins or dead-eyes, nor was he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> hidden +in the capstan or the compass. At last, in despair, the Captain thought +of looking in the cabins, and in one of them, hidden under the scattered +pyjamas and embroidered socks of a Major of Artillery, they found +Harold.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 387px;"> +<img src="images/gs08.jpg" width="387" height="600" alt="'The bicycle started, Billy in the saddle and Harold on +the step.'—Page 165." title="" /> +<span class="caption">'The bicycle started, Billy in the saddle and Harold on +the step.'—Page 165.</span> +</div> + +<p>He and Billy explained everything to each other, and shook hands, and +there was not a dry eye in the ship. (Did you ever see a dry eye? I +think it would look rather nasty.)</p> + +<p>Then said Billy to Harold:</p> + +<p>'This is all very well, but how am I to get you home?'</p> + +<p>'I can ride on the step of the bike,' said Harold.</p> + +<p>'But the wind won't take us back,' said Billy; 'it's dead against us.'</p> + +<p>'Excuse me,' said the Captain in a manly manner; 'you know that +Britannia rules the waves and controls the elements. Allow me one +moment.'</p> + +<p>He sent for the boatswain and bade him whistle for a wind, expressly +stating what kind of wind was needed.</p> + +<p>And everyone saw with delight, but with little surprise, the kite +deliberately turn round and retrace its steps towards the cliffs of +Albion.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> + +<p>A cheer rose from passengers and crew alike as the bicycle was lowered +to the waves, the string tightened, and the bicycle started, Billy in +the saddle and Harold on the step. The event was a perfect windfall to +the passengers. It gave them something to talk of all the way to Suez; +some of them are talking about it still.</p> + +<p>The kite went back even faster than it had come; it pulled the bicycle +behind it as easily as a child pulls a cotton-reel along the floor by a +bit of thread. So that Harold and Billy were home by tea-time, and it +was the jolliest meal either of them had ever had.</p> + +<p>They had determined to stop the bicycle by cutting the string, and then +Harold would have lost the patent kite, which would have been a pity. +But, most happily, the string of the kite caught in the vane on the top +of the church tower, and the bicycle stopped by itself exactly opposite +the butcher's boy to whom it belonged. He had a noble heart, and he was +very glad to see his bicycle again.</p> + +<p>After tea the boys went up the church tower to get the kite; and I don't +suppose you will believe me when I tell you that there, in the niche of +a window of the belfry, was a jackdaw's nest, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> in it the Historical +Essay which the jackdaw had stolen, as you will have guessed, for the +sake of the bright gilt manuscript fastener in the corner.</p> + +<p>And now Harold and Billy became really chums, in spite of all the +qualities which they could not help disliking in each other. Each found +some things in the other that he didn't dislike so very much, after all.</p> + +<p>When Harold grows up he will sell many patent kites, and we shall all be +able to ride bicycles on the sea.</p> + +<p>Billy sent in his essay, but he did not get the prize; so it wouldn't +have mattered if it had never been found, only I am glad it was found.</p> + +<p>I hope you will not think that this is a made-up story. It is very +nearly as true as any of the history in Billy's essay that didn't get a +prize. The only thing I can't quite believe myself is about the roll of +the right kind of paper being in the chimney; but Harold couldn't think +of anything else to dream about, and the most fortunate accidents do +happen sometimes even in stories.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_TWOPENNY_SPELL" id="THE_TWOPENNY_SPELL"></a>THE TWOPENNY SPELL</h2> + + +<p>Lucy was a very good little girl indeed, and Harry was not so bad—for a +boy, though the grown-ups called him a limb! They both got on very well +at school, and were not wholly unloved at home. Perhaps Lucy was a bit +of a muff, and Harry was certainly very rude to call her one, but she +need not have replied by calling him a 'beast.' I think she did it +partly to show him that she was not quite so much of a muff as he +thought, and partly because she was naturally annoyed at being buried up +to her waist in the ground among the gooseberry-bushes. She got into the +hole Harry had dug because he said it might make her grow, and then he +suddenly shovelled down a heap of earth and stamped it down so that she +could not move. She began to cry, then he said 'muff' and she said +'beast,' and he went away and left her 'planted there,' as the French +people say. And she cried more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> than ever, and tried to dig herself out, +and couldn't, and although she was naturally such a gentle child, she +would have stamped with rage, only she couldn't get her feet out to do +it. Then she screamed, and her Uncle Richard came and dug her out, and +said it was a shame, and gave her twopence to spend as she liked. So she +got nurse to clean the gooseberry ground off her, and when she was +cleaned she went out to spend the twopence. She was allowed to go alone, +because the shops were only a little way off on the same side of the +road, so there was no danger from crossings.</p> + +<p>'I'll spend every penny of it on myself,' said Lucy savagely; 'Harry +shan't have a bit, unless I could think of something he wouldn't like, +and then I'd get it and put it in his bread and milk!' She had never +felt quite so spiteful before, but, then, Harry had never before been +quite so aggravating.</p> + +<p>She walked slowly along by the shops, wishing she could think of +something that Harry hated; she herself hated worms, but Harry didn't +mind them. Boys are so odd.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she saw a shop she had never noticed before. The window was +quite full of flowers—roses, lilies, violets, pinks, +pansies—everything<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> you can think of, growing in a tangled heap, as you +see them in an old garden in July.</p> + +<p>She looked for the name over the shop. Instead of being somebody or +other, Florist, it was 'Doloro de Lara, Professor of white and black +Magic,' and in the window was a large card, framed and glazed. It said:</p> + +<h4> + ENCHANTMENTS DONE WHILE YOU WAIT.<br /> + EVERY DESCRIPTION OF CHARM<br /> + CAREFULLY AND COMPETENTLY WORKED.<br /> + STRONG SPELLS FROM FIFTY GUINEAS<br /> + TO TUPPENCE.<br /> + WE SUIT ALL PURSES.<br /> + GIVE US A TRIAL.<br /> + BEST AND CHEAPEST HOUSE IN THE TRADE.<br /> + COMPETITION DEFIED. +</h4> + +<p>Lucy read this with her thumb in her mouth. It was the tuppence that +attracted her; she had never bought a spell, and even a tuppenny one +would be something new.</p> + +<p>'It's some sort of conjuring trick, I suppose,' she thought, 'and I'll +never let Harry see how it's done—never, never, never!'</p> + +<p>She went in. The shop was just as flowery, and bowery, and red-rosy, and +white-lilyish inside as out, and the colour and the scent almost took +her breath away. A thin, dark, unpleasing gentle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>man suddenly popped out +of a bower of flowering nightshade, and said:</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 397px;"> +<img src="images/gs09.jpg" width="397" height="600" alt="'"And what can we do for you to-day, Miss?"'—Page +170." title="" /> +<span class="caption">'"And what can we do for you to-day, Miss?"'—Page +170.</span> +</div> + +<p>'And what can we do for you to-day, miss?'</p> + +<p>'I want a spell, if you please,' said Lucy; 'the best you can do for +tuppence.'</p> + +<p>'Is that all you've got?' said he.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Lucy.</p> + +<p>'Well, you can't expect much of a spell for that,' said he; 'however, +it's better that I should have the tuppence than that you should; you +see that, of course. Now, what would you like? We can do you a nice +little spell at sixpence that'll make it always jam for tea. And I've +another article at eighteenpence that'll make the grown-ups always think +you're good even if you're not; and at half a crown——'</p> + +<p>'I've only got tuppence.'</p> + +<p>'Well,' he said crossly, 'there's only one spell at that price, and +that's really a tuppenny-half-penny one; but we'll say tuppence. I can +make you like somebody else, and somebody else like you.'</p> + +<p>'Thank you,' said Lucy; 'I like most people, and everybody likes me.'</p> + +<p>'I don't mean <i>that</i>,' he said. 'Isn't there someone you'd like to hurt +if you were as strong as they are, and they were as weak as you?'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Lucy in a guilty whisper.</p> + +<p>'Then hand over your tuppence,' said the dark gentleman, 'and it's a +bargain.'</p> + +<p>He snatched the coppers warm from her hand.</p> + +<p>'Now,' he said, 'to-morrow morning you'll be as strong as Harry, and +he'll be little and weak like you. Then you can hurt him as much as you +like, and he won't be able to hurt back.'</p> + +<p>'Oh!' said Lucy; 'but I'm not sure I want——I think I'd like to change +the spell, please.'</p> + +<p>'No goods exchanged,' he said crossly; 'you've got what you asked for.'</p> + +<p>'Thank you,' said Lucy doubtfully, 'but how am I——?'</p> + +<p>'It's entirely self-adjusting,' said nasty Mr. Doloro. 'No previous +experience required.'</p> + +<p>'Thank you very much,' said Lucy. 'Good——'</p> + +<p>She was going to say 'good-morning,' but it turned into 'good gracious,' +because she was so very much astonished. For, without a moment's +warning, the flower-shop had turned into the sweet-shop that she knew so +well, and nasty Mr. Doloro had turned into the sweet-woman, who was +asking what she wanted, to which, of course, as she had spent her +twopence, the answer was 'Nothing.' She was already sorry that she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> had +spent it, and in such a way, and she was sorrier still when she got +home, and Harry owned handsomely that <i>he</i> was sorry he had planted her +out, but he really hadn't thought she was such a little idiot, and he +<i>was</i> sorry—so there! This touched Lucy's heart, and she felt more than +ever that she had not laid out her tuppence to the best advantage. She +tried to warn Harry of what was to happen in the morning, but he only +said, 'Don't yarn; Billson Minor's coming for cricket. You can field if +you like.' Lucy didn't like, but it seemed the only thing she could do +to show that she accepted in a proper spirit her brother's apology about +the planting out. So she fielded gloomily and ineffectively.</p> + +<p>Next morning Harry got up in good time, folded up his nightshirt, and +made his room so tidy that the housemaid nearly had a surprise-fit when +she went in. He crept downstairs like a mouse, and learned his lessons +before breakfast. Lucy, on the other hand, got up so late that it was +only by dressing hastily that she had time to prepare a thoroughly good +booby-trap before she slid down the banisters just as the breakfast-bell +rang. She was first in the room, so she was able to put a little salt in +all the tea-cups before any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span>one else came in. Fresh tea was made, and +Harry was blamed. Lucy said, 'I did it,' but no one believed her. They +said she was a noble, unselfish sister to try and shield her naughty +brother, and Harry burst into floods of tears when she kicked him under +the table; she hated herself for doing this, but somehow it seemed +impossible to do anything else.</p> + +<p>Harry cried nearly all the way to school, while Lucy insisted on sliding +along all the gutters and dragging Harry after her. She bought a +catapult at the toy-shop and a pennyworth of tintacks at the oil-shop, +both on credit, and as Lucy had never asked for credit before, she got +it.</p> + +<p>At the top of Blackheath Village they separated—Harry went back to his +school, which is at the other side of the station, and Lucy went on to +the High School.</p> + +<p>The Blackheath High School has a large and beautiful hall, with a +staircase leading down into it like a staircase in a picture, and at the +other end of the hall is a big statue of a beautiful lady. The High +School mistresses call her Venus, but I don't really believe that is her +name.</p> + +<p>Lucy—good, gentle, little Lucy, beloved by her form mistress and +respected by all the school<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>—sat on those steps—I don't know why no +one caught her—and used her catapult to throw ink pellets (you know +what they are, of course) with her catapult at the beautiful white +statue-lady, till the Venus—if that is her name, which I doubt—was all +over black spots, like a Dalmation or carriage dog.</p> + +<p>Then she went into her class room and arranged tintacks, with the +business end up, on all the desks and seats, an act fraught with gloomy +returns to Blossoma Rand and Wilhelmina Marguerite Asterisk. Another +booby-trap—a dictionary, a pot of water, three pieces of chalk, and a +handful of torn paper—was hastily sketched above the door. Three other +little girls looked on in open-mouthed appreciation. I do not wish to +shock you, so I will not tell you about the complete success of the +booby-trap, nor of the bloodthirsty fight between Lucy and Bertha +Kaurter in a secluded fives-court during rec. Dora Spielman and Gertrude +Rook were agitated seconds. It was Lucy's form mistress, the adored Miss +Harter Larke, who interrupted the fight at the fifth round, and led the +blood-stained culprits into the hall and up the beautiful picture-like +steps to the Headmistress's room.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Head of the Blackheath High School has all the subtle generalship of +the Head in Mr. Kipling's 'Stalky.' She has also a manner which subdues +parents and children alike to 'what she works in, like the dyer's hand.' +Anyone less clever would have expelled the luckless Lucy—saddled with +her brother's boy-nature—on such evidence as was now brought forward. +Not so the Blackheath Head. She reserved judgment, the most terrible of +all things for a culprit, by the way, who thought it over for an hour +and a half in the mistress's room, and she privately wrote a note to +Lucy's mother, gently hinting that Lucy was not quite herself: might be +sickening for something. Perhaps she had better be kept at home for a +day or two. Lucy went home, and on the way upset a bicycle with a little +girl on it, and came off best in a heated physical argument with a +baker's boy.</p> + +<p>Harry, meanwhile, had dried his tears, and gone to school. He knew his +lessons, which was a strange and pleasing thing, and roused in his +master hopes destined to be firmly and thoroughly crushed in the near +future. But when he had emerged triumphantly from morning school he +suddenly found his head being punched by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> Simpkins Minor, on the ground +that he, Harry, had been showing off. The punching was scientific and +irresistible. Harry, indeed, did not try to resist; in floods of tears +and with uncontrolled emotion he implored Simpkins Minor to let him +alone, and not be a brute. Then Simpkins Minor kicked him, and several +other nice little boy-friends of his joined the glad throng, and it +became quite a kicking party. So that when Harry and Lucy met at the +corner of Wemyss Road his face was almost unrecognisable, while Lucy +looked as happy as a king, and as proud as a peacock.</p> + +<p>'What's up?' asked Lucy briskly.</p> + +<p>'Every single boy in the school has kicked me,' said Harry in flat +accents. 'I wish I was dead.'</p> + +<p>'So do I,' said Lucy cheerily; 'I think I'm going to be expelled. I +should be quite certain, only my booby-trap came down on Bessie Jayne's +head instead of Miss Whatshername's, and Bessie's no sneak, though she +has got a lump like an ostrich's egg on her forehead, and soaked through +as well. But I think I'm certain to be expelled.'</p> + +<p>'I wish I was,' said Harry, weeping with heartfelt emotion. 'I don't +know what's the matter with me; I feel all wrong inside. Do you think +you can turn into things just by reading them?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> Because I feel as if I +was in "Sandford and Merton," or one of the books the kind clergyman +lent us at the seaside.'</p> + +<p>'How awfully beastly!' said Lucy. 'Now, I feel as if I didn't care +tuppence whether I was expelled or not. And, I say, Harry, I feel as if +I was much stronger than you. I know I could twist your arm round and +then hit it like you did me the other day, and you couldn't stop me.'</p> + +<p>'Of course I couldn't! <i>I</i> can't stop anybody doing anything they want +to do. Anybody who likes can hit me, and I can't hit back.'</p> + +<p>He began to cry again. And suddenly Lucy was really sorry. She had done +this, she had degraded her happy brother to a mere milksop, just because +he had happened to plant her out, and leave her planted. Remorse +suddenly gripped her with tooth and claw.</p> + +<p>'Look here,' she said, 'it's all my fault! Because you planted me out, +and I wanted to hurt you. But now I don't. I can't make you boy-brave +again; but I'm sorry, and I'll look after you, Harry, old man! Perhaps +you could disguise yourself in frocks and long hair, and come to the +High School. I'd take care nobody bullied you. It isn't nice being +bullied, is it?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p> + +<p>Harry flung his arms round her, a thing he would never have done in the +public street if he had not been girlish inside at the time.</p> + +<p>'No, it's hateful,' he said. 'Lucy, I'm sorry I've been such a pig to +you.'</p> + +<p>Lucy put her arms round him, and they kissed each other, though it was +broad daylight and they were walking down Lee Park.</p> + +<p>The same moment the enchanter Doloro de Lara ran into them on the +pavement. Lucy screamed, and Harry hit out as hard as he could.</p> + +<p>'Look out,' said he; 'who are you shoving into?'</p> + +<p>'Tut-tut,' said the enchanter, putting his hat straight, 'you've bust up +your spell, my Lucy—child; no spells hold if you go kissing and saying +you're sorry. Just keep that in mind for the future, will you?'</p> + +<p>He vanished in the white cloud of a passing steam-motor, and Harry and +Lucy were left looking at each other. And Harry was Harry and Lucy was +Lucy to the very marrow of their little back-bones. They shook hands +with earnest feeling.</p> + +<p>Next day Lucy went to the High School and apologised in dust and ashes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I don't think I was my right self,' she said to the Headmistress, who +quite agreed with her, 'and I never will again!'</p> + +<p>And she never has. Harry, on the other hand, thrashed Simpkins Minor +thoroughly and scientifically on the first opportunity; but he did not +thrash him extravagantly: he tempered pluck with mercy.</p> + +<p>For this is the odd thing about the whole story. Ever since the day when +the tuppenny spell did its work Harry has been kinder than before and +Lucy braver. I can't think why, but so it is. He no longer bullies her, +and she is no longer afraid of him, and every time she does something +brave for him, or he does something kind for her, they grow more and +more alike, so that when they are grown up he may as well be called +Lucius and she Harriett, for all the difference there will be between +them.</p> + +<p>And all the grown-ups look on and admire, and think that their incessant +jawing has produced this improvement. And no one suspects the truth +except the Headmistress of the High School, who has gone through the +complete course of Social Magic under a better professor than Mr. Doloro +de Lara; that is why she understands<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> everything, and why she did not +expel Lucy, but only admonished her. Harry is cock of his school now, +and Lucy is in the sixth, and a model girl. I wish all Headmistresses +learned Magic at Girton.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="SHOWING_OFF_OR_THE_LOOKING-GLASS_BOY" id="SHOWING_OFF_OR_THE_LOOKING-GLASS_BOY"></a>SHOWING OFF; OR, THE LOOKING-GLASS BOY</h2> + + +<p>His parents had thoughtlessly christened him Hildebrand, a name which, +as you see, is entirely unsuitable for school use. His friends called +him Brandy, and that was bad enough, though it had a sort of +pirate-smuggler sound, too. But the boys who did not like him called him +Hilda, and this was indeed hard to bear. In vain he told them that his +name was James as well. It was not true, and they would not have +believed it if it had been.</p> + +<p>He had not many friends, because he was not a very nice boy. He was not +very brave, except when he was in a rage, which is a poor sort of +courage, anyhow; and when the boys used to call him. 'Cowardy custard' +and other unpleasing names, he used to try to show off to them, and make +them admire him by telling them stories of the wild boars he had killed, +and the Red Indians<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> he had fought, and of how he had been down Niagara +in an open boat, and been shipwrecked on the high seas. They were not +bad stories, and the boys would not have minded listening to them, but +Hildebrand wanted to have his stories not only listened to, but +believed, which is quite another pair of shoes.</p> + +<p>He had one friend who always liked his stories, and believed them almost +all. This was his little sister. But he was simply horrid to her. He +never would lend her a any of his toys, and he called her 'Kiddie,' +which she hated, instead of Ethel, which happened to be her name.</p> + +<p>All this is rather dull, and exactly like many boys of your +acquaintance, no doubt. But what happened to Hildebrand does not, +fortunately or unfortunately, happen to everybody; I dare say it has +never happened to you. It began on the day when Hildebrand was making a +catapult, and Billson Minor came up to him in the playground and said:</p> + +<p>'Much use it'll be to you when you've made it. You can't hit a haystack +a yard off!'</p> + +<p>'Can't I?' said Hildebrand. 'You just see! I hit a swallow on the wing +last summer, and when we had a house in Thibet I shot a llama<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> dead with +one bullet. He was twenty-five feet long.'</p> + +<p>Billson laughed, and asked a boy who was passing if he'd ever been out +llama-shooting, and, if so, what his bag was. The other boy said:</p> + +<p>'Oh, I see—little Hilda gassing again!'</p> + +<p>Billson said:</p> + +<p>'Gassing! Lying I call it!'</p> + +<p>'Liar yourself!' said Hildebrand, who was now so angry that his fingers +trembled too much for him to be able to go on splicing the catapult.</p> + +<p>'Oh, run away and play,' said Billson wearily. 'Go home to nurse, Hilda +darling, and tell her to put your hair in curl-papers!'</p> + +<p>Then Hildebrand's rage turned into a sort of courage, and he hit out at +Billson, who, of course, hit back, and there was a fight. The other boy +held their coats and saw fair; and Hildebrand was badly beaten, because +Billson was older and bigger and a better fighter, so he went home, +crying with fury and pain. He went up into his own bedroom and bolted +the door, and wildly wished that he was a Red Indian, and that taking +scalps was not forbidden in Clapham. Billson's, he reflected gloomily, +would have been a sandy-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span>coloured scalp, and a nice beginning to a +scalp-album.</p> + +<p>Presently he stopped crying, and let his little sister in. She had been +crying, too, outside the door, ever since he came home and pushed past +her on the stairs. She pitied his bruised face, and said it was a shame +of Billson Minor to hit a boy littler than he was.</p> + +<p>'I'm not so very little,' said Hildebrand; 'and you know how brave I am. +Why, it was only last week that I was the chief of the mighty tribe of +Moccasins, who waged war against Bill Billson, the Vulture-faced +Redskin——'</p> + +<p>He told the story to its gory end, and Ethel liked it very much, and +hoped it wasn't wrong to make up such things. She couldn't quite believe +it all.</p> + +<p>Then she went down, and Hildebrand had to wash his face for dinner; and +when he looked at the boy in the looking-glass and saw the black eye +Billson Minor had given him, and the cut lip from the same giver, he +clenched his fist and said:</p> + +<p>'I wish I could make things true by saying them. Wouldn't I bung up old +Billson's peepers, that's all?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Well, you can if you like,' said the boy in the glass, whom Hildebrand +had thought was his own reflection.</p> + +<p>'What?' said he, with his mouth open. He was horribly startled.</p> + +<p>'You can if you like,' said the looking-glass boy again. 'I'll give you +your wish. Will you have it?'</p> + +<p>'Is this a fairy-tale?' asked Hildebrand cautiously.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said the boy.</p> + +<p>Hildebrand had never expected to be allowed to take part in a +fairy-tale, and at first he could hardly believe in such luck.</p> + +<p>'Do you mean to say,' he said, 'that if I say I found a pot of gold in +the garden yesterday I did find a pot of gold?'</p> + +<p>'No; you'll find it to-morrow. The thing works backwards, you see, like +all looking-glass things. You know your "Alice," I suppose? There's only +one condition: you won't be able to see yourself in the looking-glass +any more!'</p> + +<p>'Who wants to,' said Hildebrand.</p> + +<p>'And things you say to <i>yourself</i> don't count.'</p> + +<p>'There's always Ethel,' said Ethel's brother.</p> + +<p>'You accept, then?' said the boy in the glass.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Rather!'</p> + +<p>'Right' And with that the looking-glass boy vanished, and Hildebrand was +left staring at the mirror, which now reflected only the wash-hand-stand +and the chest of drawers, and part of the picture of Lord Roberts pinned +against the wall. You have no idea how odd and unpleasant it is to look +at a glass and see everything reflected as usual, except yourself, +though you are right in front of it. Hildebrand felt as if he must have +vanished as well as the looking-glass boy. But he was reassured when he +looked down at his hands. They were still there, and still extremely +dirty. The second bell had rung, and he washed them hastily and went +down.</p> + +<p>'How untidy your hair is!' said his mother; 'and oh, Hildebrand, what a +disagreeable expression, dear! and look at your eye! You've been +fighting again.'</p> + +<p>'I couldn't help it,' said our hero sulkily; 'he called names. Anyway, I +gave him an awful licking. He's worse than I am. Potatoes, please.'</p> + +<p>Next day Hildebrand had forgotten the words he had said at dinner. And +when Billson asked him if one licking was enough, and whether he, +Billson, was a liar or not, Hildebrand said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p> + +<p>'You can lick me and make me anything you like, but you <i>are</i>, all the +same, just as much as me,' and he began to cry.</p> + +<p>And Billson called him schoolgirl and slapped his face—because Billson +knew nothing of the promise of the looking-glass boy, that whatever +Hildebrand said had happened should happen.</p> + +<p>It was a dreadful fight, and when it was over Hildebrand could hardly +walk home. He was much more hurt than he had been the day before. But +Billson Minor had to be carried home. Only he was all right again next +day, and Hildebrand wasn't, so he did not get much out of this affair, +except glory, and the comfort of knowing that Billson and the other boys +would now be jolly careful how they called him anything but Pilkings, +which was his father's and his mother's name, and therefore his as well.</p> + +<p>He had to stay in bed the next day, and his father punished him for +fighting, so he consoled himself by telling Ethel how he had found a pot +of gold in the cellar the day before, after digging in the hard earth +for hours, till his hands were all bleeding, and how he had hidden it +under his bed.</p> + +<p>'Do let me see, Hildy dear,' she said, trying hard to believe him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p> + +<p>But he said, 'No, not till to-morrow.'</p> + +<p>Next day he was well enough to go to school, but he thought he would +just take some candle-ends and have a look at the cellar, and see if it +was really likely that there was any gold there. It did not seem +probable, but he thought he would try, and he did. It was terribly hard +work, for he had no tools but a spade he had had at the seaside, and +when that broke, as it did almost at once, he had to go on with a piece +of hoop-iron and the foot of an old bedstead. He went on till long past +dinner-time, and his hands were torn and bleeding, his back felt broken +in two, and his head was spinning with hunger and tiredness. At last, +just as the tea-bell rang, he reached his hand down deep into the hole +he had made, and felt something cold and round. He held his candle down. +It was a pot, tied over with brown paper, like pickled onions. When he +got it out he took off the paper. The pot was filled to the brim with +gold coins. Hildebrand blew out his candle and went up. The cook stopped +him at the top of the cellar stairs.</p> + +<p>'What's that you got there, Master Hildy? Pickles, I lay my boots,' she +said.</p> + +<p>'It's not,' said he.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Let me look,' said she.</p> + +<p>'Let me alone,' said Hildebrand.</p> + +<p>'Not me,' said the cook.</p> + +<p>She had her hand on the brown paper.</p> + +<p>Hildebrand had heard how treasure-trove has to be given up to +Government, and he did not trust the cook.</p> + +<p>'You'd better not,' he said quickly; 'it's not what you think it is.'</p> + +<p>'What is it, then?'</p> + +<p>'It's—it's <i>snakes</i>!' said Hildebrand desperately—'snakes out of the +wine-cellar.'</p> + +<p>The cook went into hysterics, and Hildebrand was punished twice, once +for staying away from school without leave, and once for frightening the +servants with silly stories. But in the confusion brought about by the +cook's screams he managed to hide the pot of gold in the bottom of the +boot cupboard, among the old gaiters and goloshes, and when peace was +restored and he was sent to bed in disgrace he took the pot with him. He +lay long awake thinking of the model engine he would buy for himself, +also of the bay pony, the collections of coins, birds' eggs, and +postage-stamps, the fishing-rods, the guns, revolvers, and bows and +arrows, the sweets and cakes and nuts,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> he would get all for himself. He +never thought of so much as a pennyworth of toffee for Ethel, or a +silver thimble for his mother, or a twopenny cigar for Mr. Pilkings.</p> + +<p>The first thing in the morning he jumped up and felt under the bed for +the pot of gold. His hand touched something that was not the pot. He +screamed, and drew his hand back as quickly as though he had burned it; +but what he had touched was not hot: it was cold, and thin, and alive. +It was a snake. And there was another on his bed, and another on the +dressing-table, and half a dozen more were gliding about inquisitively +on the floor.</p> + +<p>Hildebrand gathered his clothes together—a snake tumbled out of his +shirt as he lifted it—and made one bound for the door. He dressed on +the landing, and went to school without breakfast. I am glad to be able +to tell you that he did say to Sarah the housemaid:</p> + +<p>'For goodness' sake don't go into my bedroom—it's running alive with +snakes!'</p> + +<p>She did not believe him, of course; and, indeed, when she went up the +snakes were safe back in the pot. She did not see this, because she was +not the kind of girl who sweeps under things every day.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> That night +Hildebrand secretly slept in the boxroom, on a pile of newspapers, with +a rag-bag and a hearthrug over him.</p> + +<p>Next day he said to Sarah:</p> + +<p>'Did you go into my room yesterday?'</p> + +<p>'Of course,' said she.</p> + +<p>'Did you take the snakes away?'</p> + +<p>'Go along with your snakes!' she said.</p> + +<p>So he understood that she had not seen any, and very cautiously he +looked into his room, and finding it snakeless, crept in, hoping that +the snakes had changed back into gold. But they had not—snakes and gold +and pot had all vanished. Then he thought he would be very careful. He +said to Ethel:</p> + +<p>'I had twenty golden sovereigns in my pocket yesterday.'</p> + +<p>This was Saturday. Next day was Sunday, and all day long he jingled the +twenty golden sovereigns he had found that morning in his knickerbocker +pocket. But they were not there on Monday. And then he saw that though +he could make things <i>happen</i>, he could not make them <i>last</i>. So he told +Ethel he had had seven jam-tarts. He meant to eat them as soon as he got +them. But the next day when they came he had a headache<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> and did not +want to eat them. He might have given them to Ethel, but he didn't, and +next day they had disappeared.</p> + +<p>It was very annoying to Hildebrand to know that he had this wonderful +power, yet he could not get any good out of it. He tried to consult his +father about it, but Mr. Pilkings said he had no time for romances, and +he advised Hildebrand to learn his lessons and stick to the truth. But +this was just what Hildebrand could not do, even after the awful +occasion when his schoolfellows began to tease him again, and, to +command their respect, he related how he had met a bear in the lane by +the church and fought it single-handed, and been carried off more dead +than alive. Next day, of course, he had to fight the bear, which was +very brown and clawy and toothy and fierce, and though the +more-dead-than-alive feeling had gone by next day, it was not a pleasant +experience. But even that was better than the time when they laughed at +a very bad construe of his—the form was in Cæsar—and he told them how +he had once translated the inscription on an Egyptian Pyramid. He had no +peace for weeks after that, because he had forgotten to say how long it +took him. Every time he was alone he was wafted away to Egypt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> and set +down at that Pyramid. But he could not find the inscription, and if he +had found it he could not have translated it. So, in self-defence, he +spent most of his waking-time with Ethel. But every night the Pyramid +had its own way, and it was not till he had cut an inscription himself +on the Pyramid with the broken blade of his pocket-knife, and translated +it into English, that he was allowed any rest at all. The inscription +was <i>Ich bin eine Gans</i>, and you can translate it for yourself.</p> + +<p>But that did him good in one way; it made him fonder of Ethel. Being so +much with her, he began to see what a jolly little girl she really was. +When she had measles—Hildebrand had had them, or it, last Christmas, so +he was allowed to see his sister—he was very sorry, and really wished +to do something for her. Mr. Pilkings brought her some hothouse grapes +one day, and she liked them so much that they were very soon gone. Then +Hildebrand, who had been very careful since the Pyramid occasion to say +nothing but the truth, said:</p> + +<p>'Ethel, some grapes and pineapples came for you yesterday.'</p> + +<p>Ethel knew it wasn't true, but she liked the idea, and said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Anything else?'</p> + +<p>'Oh yes!' said her brother—'a wax doll and a china tea-set with pink +roses on it, and books and games,' and he went on to name everything he +thought she would like.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 389px;"> +<img src="images/gs10.jpg" width="389" height="600" alt="'The alligator very nearly had him.'—Page 195." title="" /> +<span class="caption">'The alligator very nearly had him.'—Page 195.</span> +</div> +<p>And, of course, next day the things came in a great packing-case. No one +ever knew who sent them, but Mr. and Mrs. Pilkings thought it was +Ethel's godfather in India. And, curiously enough, these things did not +vanish away, but were eaten and enjoyed and played with as long as they +lasted. Ethel has one of the dolls still, though now she is quite grown +up.</p> + +<p>Now Hildebrand began to feel sorry to see how ill and worried his mother +looked; she was tired out with nursing Ethel, so he said to Sarah:</p> + +<p>'Mother was quite well yesterday.'</p> + +<p>Sarah answered:</p> + +<p>'Much you know about it; your poor ma's wore to a shadow.'</p> + + + +<p>But next day mother <i>was</i> quite well, and this lasted, too. Then he +wanted to do something for his father, and as he had heard Mr. Pilkings +complain of his business being very bad, Hildebrand said to Ethel:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p> + + + +<p>'Father made a most awful lot of money yesterday.'</p> + +<p>And next day Mr. Pilkings came home and kissed Mrs. Pilkings in the hall +under the very eyes of Sarah and the boot-boy, and said:</p> + +<p>'My dear, our fortune's made!'</p> + +<p>The family did not have any nicer things to eat or wear than before, so +Hildebrand gained nothing by this, unless you count the pleasure he had +in seeing his father always jolly and cheerful and his mother well, and +not worried any more. Hildebrand <i>did</i> count this, and it counted for a +good deal.</p> + +<p>But though Hildebrand was now a much happier as well as a more agreeable +boy, he could not quite help telling a startling story now and then. As, +for instance, when he informed the butcher's boy that there was an +alligator in the back-garden. The butcher's boy did not go into the +garden—indeed, he had no business there, though that would have been no +reason if he had wanted to go—but next day, when Hildebrand, having +forgotten all about the matter, went out in the dusk to look for a fives +ball he had lost, the alligator very nearly had him.</p> + +<p>And when he related that adventure of the lost<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> balloon, he had to go +through with it next day, and it made him dizzy for months only to think +of it.</p> + +<p>But the worst thing of all was when Ethel was well, and he was allowed +to go back to school. Somehow the fellows were much jollier with him +than they used to be. Even Billson Minor was quite polite, and asked him +how the kid was.</p> + +<p>'She's all right,' said Hildebrand.</p> + +<p>'When my kiddie sister had measles,' Billson said, 'her eyes got bad +afterwards; she could hardly see.'</p> + +<p>'Oh,' said Hildebrand promptly, '<i>my</i> sister's been much worse than +that; she couldn't see at all.'</p> + +<p>When Hildebrand went home next day he found his mother pale and in +tears. The doctor had just been to see Ethel's eyes—and Ethel was +blind.</p> + +<p>Then Hildebrand went up to his own room. He had done this—his own +little sister who was so fond of him. And she was such a jolly little +thing, and he had made her blind, just for a silly bit of show-off to +Billson Minor; and he knew that the things he had said about Ethel +before had come true, and had not vanished like the things<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> he said +about himself, and he felt that this, too, would last, and Ethel would +go on being blind always. So he lay face down on his bed and cried, and +was sorry, and wished with all his heart that he had been a good boy, +and had never looked in the glass, and wished to bung up the eyes of +Billson Minor, who, after all, was not such a bad sort of chap.</p> + +<p>When he had cried till he could not cry any more he got up, and went to +the looking-glass to see if his eyes were red, which is always +interesting. He never could remember that he couldn't see himself in the +glass now. Then suddenly he knew what to do. He ran down into the +street, and said to the first person he met:</p> + +<p>'I say, I saw the looking-glass boy yesterday, and he let me off things +coming true, and Ethel was all right again.'</p> + +<p>It was a policeman, and the constable boxed his ears, and promised to +run him in next time he had any of his cheek. But Hildebrand went home +calmer, and he read 'The Jungle Book' aloud to Ethel all the evening.</p> + +<p>Next morning he ran to his looking-glass, and it was strange and +wonderful to him to see his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> own reflection again after all these weeks +of a blank mirror, and of parting his hair as well as he could just by +feeling. But it wasn't his own reflection, of course: it was the +looking-glass boy.</p> + +<p>'I say, you look very different to what you did that day,' said +Hildebrand slowly.</p> + +<p>'So do you,' said the boy.</p> + +<p>That other day, which was weeks ago, the looking-glass boy had been +swollen and scowling and angry, with a black eye and a cut lip, and +revengeful looks and spiteful words. Now he looked pale and a little +thinner, but his eyes were only anxious, and his mouth was kind. It was +just the same ugly shape as ever, but it looked different. And +Hildebrand was as like the boy in the glass as one pin is like another +pin.</p> + +<p>'I say,' said Hildebrand suddenly and earnestly, 'let me off; I don't +want it any more, thank you. And oh, do—do make my sister all right +again.'</p> + +<p>'Very well,' said the boy in the looking-glass; 'I'll let you off for +six months. If you haven't learned to speak the truth by then—well, +you'll see. Good-bye.'</p> + +<p>He held out his hand, and Hildebrand eagerly reached out to shake it. He +had forgotten the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> looking-glass, and it smashed against his fist, and +cracked all over. He never saw the boy again, and he did not want to.</p> + +<p>When he went down Ethel's eyes were all right again, and the doctor +thought it was <i>his</i> doing, and was as proud as a King and as pleased as +Punch. Hildebrand could only express his own gladness by giving Ethel +every toy he had that he thought she would like, and he was so kind to +her that she cried with pleasure.</p> + +<p>Before the six months were up Hildebrand was as truthful a boy as anyone +need wish to meet. He made little slips now and then, just at first, +about his escape from the mad bull, for instance, and about the +press-gang.</p> + +<p>His stories did not come true next day any more, but he had to dream +them, which was nearly as bad. So he cured himself, and did his lessons, +and tried to stick to the truth; and when he told romances he let people +know what he was playing at. Now he is grown up he dreams his stories +first, and writes them afterwards; for he writes books, and also he +writes for the newspapers. When you do these things you may tell as many +stories as you like, and you need not be at all afraid that any of them +will come true.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_RING_AND_THE_LAMP" id="THE_RING_AND_THE_LAMP"></a>THE RING AND THE LAMP</h2> + + +<p>You are, of course, a singularly intelligent child, and so must often +have wondered what has become of all the interesting things that you +read about in the old fairy-tales—the shoes of swiftness, and the sword +of sharpness, and the cloak that made its wearer invisible, and things +like that. Well, the fact is all these things are still in the world, +hidden about somewhere, only people are so busy with new inventions, +wireless telegraphs and X rays, and air-ships, that they don't trouble +any more to look for the really interesting things. And if you don't +look for things, you don't find them—at least, not often; though some +lucky persons have only to walk out of doors and adventures happen to +them as readily as breakfast and bed happen to ordinary folk. But when +people do find any of the wonderful old treasures they generally hold +their tongues about it, because it is so difficult to make people +believe the truth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> if it is at all out of the way. Two of the wonder +things out of the old stories were found only the other day by a little +girl in Sussex; and she never told anyone but me and one other person. I +often have things told me that no one else ever hears of, because +everyone knows that I can believe anything.</p> + +<p>The little-girl-in-Sussex's name was Seraphina Bodlett. She did not +belong to Sussex, having been born in Tooting; but she was staying at a +Sussex farmhouse for the summer holidays. It was the very nicest place +to stay at, plenty of room to play in—all the Sussex Downs, in +fact—and plenty of animals to pet and feed. The only thing was that all +the other people at the farm were grown up, and Seraphina longed very +much for someone to play with. The farmer's daughter, Miss Patty, was +very kind, and always quite willing to play Halma; only it happened that +Halma was not what Seraphina wanted to play.</p> + +<p>It was summer, and Seraphina went to bed early, while it was still +daylight. She used to lie awake in the big four-post bed, with the white +dimity curtains, and look at the latticed window and the oak chest of +drawers with the shell boxes on it, and try to make herself dream that +she had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> another little girl to play with. But she always surprised +herself by waking up in the morning without having dreamed of anything +at all.</p> + +<p>The best parlour at the farm was a very nice place, but Seraphina (whose +name takes so long to write that I think I had better call her Fina, as +everyone else did) was not usually allowed to play there, and the blinds +were always drawn down exactly halfway, because that is genteel.</p> + +<p>Sometimes Fina was taken into the parlour by Miss Patty, and then Miss +Patty would bring out the curiosities that her brother the sailor had +brought home from his voyages: South Sea necklaces of seeds and beads +and cut-up reeds, and fat idols from India, with far more arms than most +of us could find a use for. Then there were beady pincushions made by +seamen, and a stuffed parrot exactly like life, except that one eye was +out, and Chinese junks in beautiful carved ivory, and a pagoda (or +Chinese temple), and that was of ivory too, and all carved out of one +solid block, Miss Patty said. Fina loved the pagoda best of all the +curiosities. You could see right into it. It was a tower with seven +stories, and it had little gold bells on it that rang when Miss Patty +took off the glass case and gently shook the wooden stand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> Of course, +Fina was never allowed to shake it herself.</p> + +<p>'Where did it come from?' She asked this question every time she was +shown the pagoda.</p> + +<p>'It came from the Emperor of China's own Summer Palace at Pekin,' Miss +Patty always said; 'but my brother Bob never would tell me how he got +it.'</p> + +<p>Then, when Fina had had a last peep through the windows of the pagoda, +the glass case would be put on again, and Fina would be told to 'run +along now and play.'</p> + +<p>One day she was 'running along and playing' when she met a playfellow. +It was a fat foxhound puppy, very clumsy and very affectionate. They had +a romp together, and then the puppy blundered off, and Fina went indoors +to wash her hands, because the puppy's idea of a romp had been a roll in +the dust, which Fina had gladly consented to share.</p> + +<p>But as she passed the door of the best parlour she stopped a minute, for +the door was open. It was the day for cleaning out the room, but Miss +Patty had stopped in the middle of the cleaning to go to the back-door +to see a pedlar who had some really wonderful bargains in handkerchiefs<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> +and silk dresses, and mixed white pins and back-hair combs. Fina often +wondered afterwards whether that pedlar was a real pedlar or a magician +in disguise.</p> + +<p>Now, Fina was an obedient little girl. She did <i>not</i> slip into the +parlour to have a look round just because the door was open and no one +was about. But she had not been forbidden to <i>look</i> in, if she got the +chance, so she stood at the door and looked at the stuffed parrot, and +the junk, and the rest of the things; and as she looked she started, and +said:</p> + +<p>'<i>Oh!</i> it will tumble down—I know it will—if a door banged even!'</p> + +<p>And just then the front-door <i>did</i> bang, and the pagoda trembled; for it +was standing at the very edge of the chiffonnier, and one of the little +black, carved claw-feet of its stand was actually overhanging the +chiffonnier edge.</p> + +<p>'I <i>must</i> stand it steady,' said Fina. 'If I go and tell Miss Patty it +may tumble off before I get back.'</p> + +<p>So she went quickly in and took the glass case and stand and pagoda very +carefully in her hands to move them back to a safe place.</p> + +<p>It was this very moment that the foxhound<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> puppy chose for rushing +in—all wriggle and bark and clumsy paws—and plunging between Fina's +feet. She reeled, staggered, and she, the puppy, the stand, the glass +case, and the precious pagoda, all went down together in a crushing +heap.</p> + +<p>When Fina picked herself up the puppy's tail was just disappearing round +the door, and at her feet lay a scattered heap of splintered ivory and +glass, the hopeless ruins of the beautiful pagoda.</p> + +<p>Her heart seemed to stand still, and then began to beat so hard and fast +that she felt as though she had a steam-engine in her chest.</p> + +<p>Her hands trembled so much that she could hardly pick up the pieces; but +she did begin to pick them up.</p> + +<p>'Perhaps it could be mended,' she said, 'with glue or white of egg, like +nurse did the china basin; only the pieces are so small and chippety, +some of them, that I don't see how you could ever fit them together. And +Miss Patty will be in in a minute! Oh, I wish I was somebody else and +not me! Oh, whatever will she say?'</p> + +<p>Among the shivered splinters of ivory the little gold bells were +scattered.</p> + +<p>'But what's that?' said Fina. 'It's not a bell or——'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 415px;"> +<img src="images/gs11.jpg" width="415" height="600" alt="'"Your servant, Miss. Do I understand that you order me +to mend this?"'—Page 207." title="" /> +<span class="caption">'"Your servant, Miss. Do I understand that you order me +to mend this?"'—Page 207.</span> +</div> + +<p>She picked whatever it was up from among the shattered ivory and glass. +It was a gold ring, thick and beautiful, with a strange design on it +like on the sides of tea-caddies. She slipped it on her hand to keep it +safe while she went on with the dismal work of picking up the pieces. +And then, suddenly, the dreadfulness of the deed she had done—though +quite the puppy's fault, and not hers at all—came over her. She began +to breathe quickly and then to make faces, and in a moment she was +sobbing and sniffing, and rubbing her wet eyes with her knuckles, still +dirty from her politeness in letting the puppy choose what game she and +it should play at.</p> + +<p>She was roused from her crying by a voice, and it was not Miss Patty's +voice. It said:</p> + +<p>'Your servant, miss. What can I have the pleasure of doing for you?'</p> + +<p>She took her knuckles out of her eyes, and saw, from between her very +dirty eyelids, a tall footman who was bowing respectfully before her. +He was dressed wonderfully in green satin—his large and lovely legs +wore white silk stockings, and his hair was powdered till it was as +white as the inside of a newly-sheared fleece.</p> + + + +<p>'Thank you,' said Fina, sobbing, but polite;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> 'no one can do anything +for me, unless they can mend all this, and of course nobody can.'</p> + + + +<p>'Your servant, miss,' said the footman. 'Do I understand that you order +me to mend this?'</p> + +<p>'If you can,' said Fina, a ray of hope lighting her blighted existence; +'but, of course——<span class="smcap">What</span>?'</p> + +<p>The pagoda stood on the table <i>mended</i>! Indeed, it seemed as though +there had never been any breaking. It was there, safe and sound as it +had always been, on its ebony stand, with the shining bubble of its +glass case rising dome-like over it.</p> + +<p>The footman had vanished.</p> + +<p>'<i>Well!</i>' said Fina, 'I suppose it was all a waking dream. How horrible! +I've read of waking dreams, but I didn't know there were ever waking +nightmares. Perhaps I better <i>had</i> wash my hands—and my face,' she +added, when she saw it, round, red, and streaked with mud (made of dust +and tears), in the glass of the chiffonnier.</p> + +<p>She dipped her face in fresh water in the willow-patterned basin in her +big attic bedroom. Then she washed her hands. And as she began to rub +the soap on she heard a noise.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Your servant, miss. What can I have the pleasure of doing for you?'</p> + +<p>And there was that footman again.</p> + +<p>'Who are you?' said Fina. 'Why do you follow me about?'</p> + +<p>'I am the Slave of the Ring, please, miss,' replied the footman, with +another bow. 'And, of course, when you rubs it I appears.'</p> + +<p>'The Slave of the Ring?' said Fina, letting the soapsuds drip from her +hands to the carpet. 'Do you mean Aladdin's ring?'</p> + +<p>'The ring belonged to the gentleman you mentions at one time, miss.'</p> + +<p>'But I thought the Slave of the Ring was a genie—a great, foaming, +fierce, black slave in a turban.'</p> + +<p>'Times is changed, miss,' said the footman. 'In this here civilised +country there aren't no slaves, only servants. You have to keep up with +the times, even if you're a——'</p> + +<p>'But I thought the Slave of the Ring spoke Chinese?'</p> + +<p>'So I does, miss, when in that country. But whatever'd be the use of +talking Chinese to you?'</p> + +<p>'But tell me—oh, there's the dinner-bell!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> Look here, I wish you'd not +keep appearing so suddenly. It does startle me so.'</p> + +<p>'Then don't you go on rubbing the ring sudden, miss. It's that as does +it. Nothing I can do for you, miss?'</p> + +<p>'Not now,' said Fina, and he vanished as she spoke.</p> + +<p>When Fina sat down to dinner in the farm kitchen—a very nice dinner it +was, boiled pork and beans, and a treacle-tart to follow—she picked up +her horn-handled knife and fork and clutched them hard. They felt real +enough. But the footman—she must have dreamed him, and the ring. She +had left the ring in the dressing-table drawer upstairs, for fear she +should rub it accidentally. She knew what a start it would give Miss +Patty and the farmer if a genie footman suddenly appeared from nowhere +and stood behind their chairs at dinner.</p> + +<p>Miss Patty seemed very cheerful.</p> + +<p>'It <i>was</i> a piece of luck, father, wasn't it, that pedlar wanting +Chinese things? He gave me two pieces of broadcloth that'll cut into +three or four coats for you, and a length of black silk that rich it'll +stand alone, and ten pounds in gold, and half a dozen silk +neck-squares.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Yes,' said the farmer, 'it was a good bargain for you; and Bob give you +the pagoda, and you've a right to do as you like with your own.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, Miss Patty,' said Fina, 'you've never been and sold the pagoda—the +beautiful, darling pagoda?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, I have, dear; but never mind, I'll buy you a new doll out of the +money I got for it.'</p> + +<p>'Thank you,' said Fina; but the pork and beans did not taste so nice now +she knew that the pretty pagoda was sold. Also she was rather worried +about the ring. Ought she to keep it? She had found it, of course, but +someone must have lost it. Yet she couldn't bear to give it up, when she +hadn't made the slave of it do a single thing for her, except to mend +the pagoda.</p> + +<p>After dinner Fina went and got the ring. She was very careful not to rub +it till she was safe and alone in a quiet green nook in the little wood +at the end of the garden, where the hazels and sweet chestnuts and +hornbeams grew so closely that she was quite hidden.</p> + +<p>Then she rubbed the ring, and instantly the footman was there. But there +was no room for him to stand up under the thicket, so he appeared +kneeling, and trying to bow in that position.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Then it's not a dream?' said she.</p> + +<p>'How often I have heard them very words!' said the Slave of the Ring.</p> + +<p>'I want you to tell me things,' said Fina. 'Do sit down; you look so +uncomfortable like that.'</p> + +<p>'Thank you, miss,' said the footman; 'you're very thoughtful for a child +of your age, and of this age, too! Service ain't what it was.'</p> + +<p>'Now, tell me,' she said, 'where did the ring come from?'</p> + +<p>'There's seven secrets I ain't allowed to tell,' the footman said, 'and +that there what you asked me's one of them; but the ring's as old as +old—I can tell you that.'</p> + +<p>'But I mean where did it come from just now—when I found it?'</p> + +<p>'Oh, <i>then</i>. Why, it come out of the pagoda, of course. The floor of the +third story was made double, and the ring was stuck between the floor of +that and the ceiling of the second floor, and when you smashed the +pagoda o' course it rolled out. The pagoda was made o' purpose to take +care of the ring.'</p> + +<p>'Who made it?' asked Fina.</p> + +<p>'I did,' said the genie proudly.</p> + +<p>'And now,' said Fina, 'what shall we do?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Excuse me,' the footman said firmly; 'one thing I'm <i>not</i> bound to do +is to give advice.'</p> + +<p>'But you'll do anything else I tell you?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, miss—almost anything. I'll talk to you willing, I will, and tell +you my life's sorrows.'</p> + +<p>'I should like that some other time,' said Fina, 'but just now, perhaps, +you'd better get me a doll.'</p> + +<p>And a doll lay at her feet among the dead leaves. It was a farthing +Dutch doll.</p> + +<p>'You didn't say what sort of a doll,' said the footman, when she had +rubbed the ring and he had reappeared, and she had reproached him. 'I've +been in service long enough to do exactly what I am told. My life-sorrow +has been——'</p> + +<p>'I say,' Fina said suddenly, 'can't you get the pagoda back for me?'</p> + +<p>Instantly the pagoda was there and the footman was not. Fina spent the +afternoon playing with the beautiful ivory toy, but when it was tea-time +she had to ask the genie footman to take it away again, for she dared +not face the questions and she could not invent the explanations that +would have followed if she had turned up at the house with the pagoda +under her arm.</p> + +<p>You will think that Fina ought to have been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> the happiest of little +girls, now that she had a genie footman Slave of the Ring in a green +coat to get her anything she wanted, and run her errands on his +beautiful balustrade-like white silk legs. But this was not so.</p> + +<p>It was all very well to go into the wood every day and make the footman +fetch her the most beautiful dolls and toys and sweets, but even sweets +are dull if you eat them alone; and what is the use of toys, or even +pagodas, if you have no one to show them to, and dare not have them +except in a secret corner of the wood?</p> + +<p>She tried to get the footman to play with her, but he said that was a +little more than anyone could expect, and began again about his sorrows; +and as for getting him to take any interest in the wonderful things he +fetched for her, she felt at once that these were nothing to a genie +footman with such a jewelled and exciting past as his.</p> + +<p>She was not a very clever little girl. She wished for a white pony, and, +of course, it came, but there was no room for it in the wood, and it +walked on her foot and tried to bite her, and she hastily had to send it +away. She wished for a pet lamb, but it baaed so loudly that she was +almost discovered by the farmer, so that had to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> go too. And she had +been wishing for these vain and unsatisfying things for more than a week +before she thought of asking for a little girl to play with.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 419px;"> +<img src="images/gs12.jpg" width="419" height="600" alt="'The little girl had slapped Fina and taken the pagoda +away.'—Page 214." title="" /> +<span class="caption">'The little girl had slapped Fina and taken the pagoda +away.'—Page 214.</span> +</div> + +<p>The genie brought a little girl at once, but she was a horrid little +girl, with a red pigtail and a green frock trimmed with black bead +trimming, and she broke the toys and laughed at Fina when she tried to +tell her the story of the pagoda and the Ring Slave. Also there was no +room to play in the secret nook in the wood, and when the little girl +had slapped Fina and taken the pagoda away from her it seemed best to +ask the genie to take the little girl herself away. Fina never saw her +again, and never wanted to either!</p> + +<p>At last Fina knew that what she really wanted was not only someone to +play with, but a good place to play in, so she shut her eyes and +thought—as hard as a not very clever person of eight can think—and +then she rubbed the ring and said:</p> + +<p>'Please take me somewhere where there is a little girl who will play +with me, a nice little girl, and room to play in.'</p> + +<p>And at once the wood vanished—like a magic-lantern picture when the +kind clergyman who is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> showing it changes the slide—and she was in a +strange room.</p> + + +<p>It was a nursery—very large and light. There were flowers at the +window, and pictures on the walls, and many toys. And on a couch, +covered with a bright green rug with yellow daisies embroidered on it, +lay a little girl with pretty yellow hair and kind, merry blue eyes.</p> + +<p>'<i>Oh!</i>' said the little girl, very much astonished.</p> + +<p>'<i>Oh!</i>' said Fina, at the same minute, and with the same quantity of +astonishment.</p> + +<p>'I've come to play with you, if you'll let me,' said Fina.</p> + +<p>'How lovely! But how did you get in?'</p> + +<p>'The Slave of the Ring brought me.'</p> + +<p>'The Slave of the Ring! How wonderful!'</p> + +<p>'Yes, isn't it? What's your name?'</p> + +<p>'Ella.'</p> + +<p>'Mine's Fina. Wouldn't you like to see my Ring Slave, Ella?'</p> + +<p>'Yes—oh yes!' Ella was laughing softly.</p> + +<p>Fina rubbed the ring and the footman genie appeared, his silk legs more +beautifully silk than ever.</p> + +<p>'Please fetch the pagoda.'</p> + +<p>The pagoda toppled on to the couch, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> genie vanished, as he +always did when he had executed an order.</p> + +<p>When Ella had admired the pagoda, which she did very thoroughly and +satisfyingly, she said:</p> + +<p>'And now I'll show you <i>mine</i>!'</p> + +<p>She pulled a battered iron thing from under her pillow and rubbed it. +Instantly a very grand stout gentleman in evening dress stood before +them. He had most respectable whiskers, and he said:</p> + +<p>'What can I do for you, madam?'</p> + +<p>'Who is it?' whispered Fina.</p> + +<p>'It's the Slave of the Lamp,' said Ella. 'He says he's disguised as a +perfect butler because times have changed so since <i>his</i> time.'</p> + +<p>'Send him away,' said Fina.</p> + +<p>'Oh, dear Ella,' she went on, when they were alone, 'tell me all about +yours, and I'll tell you all about mine.'</p> + +<p>'Well,' said Ella, 'I found the lamp at the seaside, just before I hurt +my back. I fell off the sea-wall, you know, and I shan't be able to walk +for ever so long. And one day I rubbed it by accident, and since then my +beautiful perfect butler gets me anything I want. Look here, I'll tell +him to make it like it was yesterday.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p> + +<p>The lamp was rubbed, the order given, and the nursery became a palace +hall hung with cloth of gold and blazing with jewels and softly-coloured +lamps.</p> + +<p>'But can't your butler cure your back?'</p> + +<p>'No. Time is the only genie who can do that, my butler says. You don't +know how I've wanted someone to show it all to! But I never thought of +wishing for you. It's only a week since I found the lamp——'</p> + +<p>'Do they leave you alone all the time?'</p> + +<p>'Oh no, only when I say I'm sleepy; and my butler has orders to change +everything to ordinary directly the door-handle turns.'</p> + +<p>'Have you told anyone?'</p> + +<p>'Oh <i>no</i>! My butler says if you tell anyone grown-up that you've got the +lamp it will vanish away. I can't remember whether it's like that in the +"Arabian Nights"; perhaps it's a new rule.'</p> + +<p>The two little girls talked all the afternoon about the wonderful things +they would make their slaves do for them, and they were so contented +with each other's company that they never once called on their slaves +for anything.</p> + +<p>But when Fina began to feel the inside feeling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> that means teatime, she +rubbed the ring for her slave to take her back to the farm.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 381px;"> +<img src="images/gs13.jpg" width="381" height="600" alt="'"We'll see if you are going to begin a-ordering of me +about."'—Page 219." title="" /> +<span class="caption">'"We'll see if you are going to begin a-ordering of me +about."'—Page 219.</span> +</div> + +<p>'I'll get my slave to take me to see you home,' said Ella. 'He can carry +me quite without hurting me.'</p> + +<p>So she rubbed the lamp, and the stately butler instantly appeared.</p> + +<p>'Please——' Ella began; but the glorious butler interrupted.</p> + +<p>'James,' he said to the footman, 'what are you doing here?'</p> + +<p>'I'm in service with this young lady, Mr. Lamp, sir.'</p> + +<p>'Give me the ring, James.'</p> + +<p>And instantly the footman took the ring, very gently but quite +irresistibly, from Fina's finger, and handed it to the butler.</p> + +<p>'Oh <i>no</i>!' Fina cried, 'you've no right to take my ring. And he's no +right to obey you. He's <i>my</i> slave.'</p> + +<p>'Excuse me, madam,' said the butler, looking more and more perfect, and +more and more the sort of person who is sure to know best, 'he is not +<i>your</i> slave. He is the Slave of the Ring. But then, you see, he is a +footman, and footmen have to obey butlers all the world over.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p> + + + +<p>'That's so, miss,' said the footman; 'but the lamp's stronger than the +ring.' He snatched up the lamp. 'Now, then,' he said, turning fiercely +to the butler, 'we'll see if you're going to begin a-orderin' of me +about!'</p> + +<p>The butler so far forgot himself as to scratch his head thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' he said, after a pause; 'I've got to own that you've got the +better of me there, James Rings. But why dispute—which is beneath the +dignity of a six-foot footman like yourself, to say nothing of the +dignity of a butler, which is a thing words can't do justice to? You're +my slave because I've got the ring and because I'm a butler and you're a +footman. And I'm your slave because you've got the lamp. It's half a +dozen of one and six and a half of the other. Can't we come to some +agreement between ourselves, James?'</p> + +<p>'Oh,' cried Ella, 'what about <i>us</i>?'</p> + +<p>'We are excessively sorry to cause any inconvenience, madam,' said the +butler, 'but we give you five minutes' notice. We are leaving service +for good.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, Lamps!' cried Ella. 'And you were always such a beautiful butler. I +thought you enjoyed being it.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Don't you make any mistake, miss,' the footman put in. 'Nobody <i>enjoys</i> +being in service, though they has to put up with it. Me and Mr. Lamps is +retiring from service. Perhaps we may take a little business and go into +partnership, and always wishing you well, young ladies both.'</p> + +<p>'But,' said Fina, 'you <i>can't</i> go and leave me here! Why, I should never +get home. I don't so much as know what county I'm in.'</p> + +<p>'You're in Auckland, miss,' said James.</p> + +<p>'There isn't such a country.'</p> + +<p>'Pardon me, madam,' said the butler, 'there is. In New Zealand.'</p> + +<p>'Don't cry, miss,' said James. 'If Mr. Lamps 'll only give the word, +I'll take you home.'</p> + +<p>'And then I shall never see Ella again.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, tell Lamps to rub the ring and tell you to arrange for me to come +and live near her in England,' cried Ella; 'if he'll do that I don't +care. I'd rather have a friend than twenty slaves.'</p> + +<p>'A very proper sentiment, ma'am,' said the butler approvingly. 'Is there +any other little thing we could do to oblige you?'</p> + +<p>'The pagoda,' said Fina. 'If you could only<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> get it back to Miss Patty, +so that she won't lose the things she sold it for, and won't know about +the ring having been in it.'</p> + +<p>'Consider it done, madam,' said the Slave of the Lamp, stroking his +respectable butlerial whisker. 'Now, if you're ready, your footman shall +see you home.'</p> + +<p>'Good-bye, oh, good-bye,' said the little girls, kissing each other very +much.</p> + +<p>Then Fina shut her eyes, and there she was in the wood in Sussex—alone.</p> + +<p>'Now, <i>have</i> I dreamed it all?' she said, and went slowly home to tea.</p> + +<p>The first thing she saw on the tea-table was the pagoda! And the next +was a brown-faced sailor eating hot buttered toast in the Windsor +armchair.</p> + +<p>'Well may you look!' said Miss Patty; 'this is my brother Bob, newly +arrived from foreign parts. And he met that pedlar and bought the pagoda +off him for two pounds and a highly-coloured cockatoo he was bringing +home. And these ten sovereigns the wicked old man gave me are bad ones. +But the dresses and the cloth are good. It's a wonderful world!'</p> + +<p>Fina thought so too.</p> + +<p>Now, the oddest thing about all this is that six<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> months later some new +people came to live in the house next door to the house where Fina lived +in Tooting. And those new people came from New Zealand. And one of them +was called Ella!</p> + +<p>Fina knew her at once, but Ella had forgotten her, and forgotten the +beautiful perfect butler and the perfect footman, and the lamp and the +ring, and everything. Perhaps a long sea-voyage is bad for the memory. +Anyway, the two little girls are close friends, and Ella loves to hear +Fina tell the story of the two slaves, though she doesn't believe a word +of it.</p> + + +<p>Fina's father and Ella's father have left Tooting now. They live in +lovely houses at Haslemere. And Fina has a white pony and Ella has a +brown one. Their fathers are very rich now. They both got situations as +managers to branch houses of Messrs. Lamps, Rings, and Co., Electrical +Engineers. Mr. Lamps attends to the lighting department, and Mr. Rings +is at the head of the bells, which always ring beautifully. And I hear +that Ella's father and Fina's father are likely to be taken into +partnership. Mr. Bodlett has bought the pagoda, at Fina's earnest +request, and it stands on a sideboard in his handsome drawing-room.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> +Fina sometimes asks it whether she really did dream the whole story or +not. But it never says a word.</p> + +<p>Of course, you and I know that every word of the story is true.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_CHARMED_LIFE_OR_THE_PRINCESS_AND_THE_LIFT-MAN" id="THE_CHARMED_LIFE_OR_THE_PRINCESS_AND_THE_LIFT-MAN"></a>THE CHARMED LIFE; OR, THE PRINCESS AND THE LIFT-MAN</h2> + + +<p>There was once a Prince whose father failed in business and lost +everything he had in the world—crown, kingdom, money, jewels, and +friends. This was because he was so fond of machinery that he was always +making working models of things he invented, and so had no time to +attend to the duties that Kings are engaged for. So he lost his +situation. There is a King in French history who was fond of machinery, +particularly clock-work, and he lost everything too, even his head. The +King in this story kept his head, however, and when he wasn't allowed to +make laws any more, he was quite contented to go on making machines. And +as his machines were a great deal better than his laws had ever been, he +soon got a nice little business together, and was able to buy a house in +another kingdom, and settle down comfortably with his wife and son. The +house<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> was one of those delightful villas called after Queen Anne (the +one whose death is still so often mentioned and so justly deplored), +with stained glass to the front-door, and coloured tiles on the +front-garden path, and gables where there was never need of gables, and +nice geraniums and calceolarias in the front-garden, and pretty red +brick on the front of the house. The back of the house was yellow brick, +because that did not show so much.</p> + +<p>Here the King and the Queen and the Prince lived very pleasantly. The +Queen snipped the dead geraniums off with a pair of gold scissors, and +did fancy-work for bazaars. The Prince went to the Red-Coat School, and +the King worked up his business. In due time the Prince was apprenticed +to his father's trade; and a very industrious apprentice he was, and +never had anything to do with the idle apprentices who play pitch and +toss on tombstones, as you see in Mr. Hogarth's picture.</p> + +<p>When the Prince was twenty-one his mother called him to her. She put +down the blotting-book she was embroidering for the School Bazaar in +tasteful pattern of stocks and nasturtiums, and said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p> + +<p>'My dear son, you have had the usual coming-of-age presents—silver +cigar-case and match-box; a handsome set of brushes, with your initials +on the back; a Gladstone bag, also richly initialled; the complete works +of Dickens and Thackeray; a Swan fountain-pen mounted in gold; and the +heartfelt blessing of your father and mother. But there is still one +more present for you.'</p> + +<p>'You are too good, mamma,' said the Prince, fingering the +nasturtium-coloured silks.</p> + +<p>'Don't fidget,' said the Queen, 'and listen to me. When you were a baby +a fairy, who was your godmother, gave you a most valuable present—a +Charmed Life. As long as you keep it safely, nothing can harm you.'</p> + +<p>'How delightful!' said the Prince. 'Why, mamma, you might have let me go +to sea when I wanted to. It would have been quite safe.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, my dear,' said the Queen, 'but it's best to be careful. I have +taken care of your life all these years, but now you are old enough to +take care of it for yourself. Let me advise you to keep it in a safe +place. You should never carry valuables about on your person.'</p> + +<p>And then she handed the Charmed Life over to him, and he took it and +kissed her, and thanked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> her for the pretty present, and went away and +hid it. He took a brick out of the wall of the villa, and hid his Life +behind it. The bricks in the walls of these Queen Anne villas generally +come out quite easily.</p> + +<p>Now, the father of the Prince had been King of Bohemia, so, of course, +the Prince was called Florizel, which is their family name; but when the +King went into business he went in as Rex Bloomsbury, and his great +patent Lightning Lift Company called itself R. Bloomsbury and Co., so +that the Prince was known as F. Bloomsbury, which was as near as the +King dared go to 'Florizel, Prince of Bohemia.' His mother, I am sorry +to say, called him Florrie till he was quite grown up.</p> + +<p>Now, the King of the country where Florizel lived was a very go-ahead +sort of man, and as soon as he heard that there were such things as +lifts—which was not for a long time, because no one ever lets a King +know anything if it can be helped—he ordered one of the very, very best +for his palace. Next day a card was brought in by one of the palace +footmen. It had on it: 'Mr. F. Bloomsbury, R. Bloomsbury and Co.'</p> + +<p>'Show him in,' said the King.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Good-morning, sire,' said Florizel, bowing with that perfect grace +which is proper to Princes.</p> + +<p>'Good-morning, young man,' said the King. 'About this lift, now.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, sire. May I ask how much your Majesty is prepared to——'</p> + +<p>'Oh, never mind price,' said the King; 'it all comes out of the taxes.'</p> + +<p>'I should think, then, that Class A ... our special Argentinella +design—white satin cushions, woodwork overlaid with ivory and inset +with pearls, opals, and silver.'</p> + +<p>'Gold,' said the King shortly.</p> + +<p>'Not with pearls and ivory,' said Florizel firmly. He had excellent +taste. 'The gold pattern—we call it the Anriradia—is inlaid with +sapphires, emeralds, and black diamonds.'</p> + +<p>'I'll have the gold pattern,' said the King; 'but you might run up a +little special lift for the Princess's apartments. I dare say she'd like +that Argentinella pattern—"Simple and girlish," I see it says in your +circular.'</p> + +<p>So Florizel booked the order, and the gold and sapphire and emerald lift +was made and fixed, and all the Court was so delighted that it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> spent +its whole time in going up and down in the lift, and there had to be new +blue satin cushions within a week.</p> + +<p>Then the Prince superintended the fixing of the Princess's lift—the +Argentinella design—and the Princess Candida herself came to look on at +the works; and she and Florizel met, and their eyes met, and their hands +met, because his caught hers, and dragged her back just in time to save +her from being crushed by a heavy steel bar that was being lowered into +its place.</p> + +<p>'Why, you've saved my life,' said the Princess.</p> + +<p>But Florizel could say nothing. His heart was beating too fast, and it +seemed to be beating in his throat, and not in its proper place behind +his waistcoat.</p> + +<p>'Who are you?' said the Princess.</p> + +<p>'I'm an engineer,' said the Prince.</p> + +<p>'Oh dear!' said the Princess, 'I thought you were a Prince. I'm sure you +look more like a Prince than any Prince <i>I've</i> ever seen.'</p> + +<p>'I wish I was a Prince,' said Florizel; 'but I never wished it till +three minutes ago.'</p> + +<p>The Princess smiled, and then she frowned, and then she went away.</p> + +<p>Florizel went straight back to the office, where<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> his father, Mr. Rex +Bloomsbury, was busy at his knee-hole writing-table.</p> + +<p>He spent the morning at the office, and the afternoon in the workshop.</p> + +<p>'Father,' he said, 'I don't know what ever will become of me. I wish I +was a Prince!'</p> + +<p>The King and Queen of Bohemia had never let their son know that he was a +Prince; for what is the use of being a Prince if there's never going to +be a kingdom for you?</p> + +<p>Now, the King, who was called R. Bloomsbury, Esq., looked at his son +over his spectacles and said:</p> + +<p>'Why?'</p> + +<p>'Because I've been and gone and fallen head over ears in love with the +Princess Candida.'</p> + +<p>The father rubbed his nose thoughtfully with his fountain pen.</p> + +<p>'Humph!' he said; 'you've fixed your choice high.'</p> + +<p>'Choice!' cried the Prince distractedly. 'There wasn't much choice about +it. She just looked at me, and there I was, don't you know? I didn't +<i>want</i> to fall in love like this. Oh, father, it hurts most awfully! +What ever shall I do?'</p> + +<p>After a long pause, full of thought, his father replied:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Bear it, I suppose.'</p> + +<p>'But I <i>can't</i> bear it—at least, not unless I can see her every day. +Nothing else in the world matters in the least.'</p> + +<p>'Dear me!' said his father.</p> + +<p>'Couldn't I disguise myself as a Prince, and try to make her like me a +little?'</p> + +<p>'The disguise you suggest is quite beyond our means at present.'</p> + +<p>'Then I'll disguise myself as a lift attendant,' said Florizel.</p> + +<p>And what is more, he did it. His father did not interfere. He believed +in letting young people manage their own love affairs.</p> + +<p>So that when the lift was finished, and the Princess and her ladies +crowded round to make the first ascent in it, there was Florizel dressed +in white satin knee-breeches, and coat with mother-o'-pearl buttons. He +had silver buckles to his shoes, and a tiny opal breast-pin on the +lappet of his coat, where the white flower goes at weddings.</p> + +<p>When the Princess saw him she said:</p> + +<p>'Now, none of you girls are to go in the lift at all, mind! It's <i>my</i> +lift. You can use the other one, or go up the mother-of-pearl staircase, +as usual.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then she stepped into the lift, and the silver doors clicked, and the +lift went up, just carrying her and him.</p> + +<p>She had put on a white silky gown, to match the new lift, and she, too, +had silver buckles on her shoes, and a string of pearls round her +throat, and a silver chain set with opals in her dark hair; and she had +a bunch of jasmine flowers at her neck. As the lift went out of sight +the youngest lady-in-waiting whispered:</p> + +<p>'What a pretty pair! Why, they're made for each other! What a pity he's +a lift-man! He looks exactly like a Prince.'</p> + +<p>'Hold your tongue, silly!' said the eldest lady-in-waiting, and slapped +her.</p> + +<p>The Princess went up and down in the lift all the morning, and when at +last she had to step out of it because the palace luncheon-bell had rung +three times, and the roast peacock was getting cold, the eldest +lady-in-waiting noticed that the Lift-man had a jasmine flower fastened +to his coat with a little opal pin.</p> + +<p>The eldest lady-in-waiting kept a sharp eye on the Princess, but after +that first day the Princess only seemed to go up and down in the lift +when it was really necessary, and then she always took<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> the youngest +lady-in-waiting with her; so that though the Lift-man always had a +flower in his buttonhole, there was no reason to suppose it had not been +given him by his mother.</p> + +<p>'I suppose I'm a silly, suspicious little thing,' said the eldest +lady-in-waiting. 'Of course, it was the lift that amused her, just at +first. How <i>could</i> a Princess be interested in a lift-man?'</p> + +<p>Now, when people are in love, and want to be quite certain that they are +loved in return, they will take any risks to find out what they want to +know. But as soon as they are <i>quite sure</i> they begin to be careful.</p> + +<p>And after those seventy-five ups and downs in the lift, on the first +day, the Princess no longer had any doubt that she was beloved by the +Lift-man. Not that he had said a word about it, but she was a clever +Princess, and she had seen how he picked up the jasmine flower she let +fell, and kissed it when she pretended she wasn't looking, and he +pretended he didn't know she was. Of course, she had been in love with +him ever since they met, and their eyes met, and their hands. She told +herself it was because he had saved her life, but that wasn't the real +reason at all.</p> + +<p>So, being quite sure, she began to be careful.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Since he really loves me he'll find a way to tell me so, right out. +It's his part, not mine, to make everything possible,' she said.</p> + +<p>As for Florizel, he was quite happy. He saw her every day, and every day +when he took his place in his lift there was a fresh jasmine flower +lying on the satin cushion. And he pinned it into his buttonhole and +wore it there all day, and thought of his lady, and of how that first +wonderful day she had dropped a jasmine flower, and how he had picked it +up when she pretended she was not looking, and he was pretending that he +did not know she was. But all the same he wanted to know exactly how +that jasmine flower came there every day, and whose hand brought it. It +might be the youngest lady-in-waiting, but Florizel didn't think so.</p> + +<p>So he went to the palace one morning bright and early, much earlier than +usual, and there was no jasmine flower. Then he hid behind one of the +white velvet window-curtains of the corridor and waited. And, presently, +who should come stealing along on the tips of her pink toes—so as to +make no noise at all—but the Princess herself, fresh as the morning in +a white muslin frock with a silver ribbon round her darling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> waist, and +a bunch of jasmine at her neck. She took one of the jasmine flowers and +kissed it and laid it on the white satin seat of the lift, and when she +stepped back there was the Lift-man.</p> + +<p>'Oh!' said Candida, and blushed like a child that is caught in mischief.</p> + +<p>'Oh!' said Florizel, and he picked up the jasmine and kissed it many +times.</p> + +<p>'Why do you do that?' said the Princess.</p> + +<p>'Because you did,' said the Prince. 'I saw you. Do you want to go on +pretending any more?'</p> + +<p>The Princess did not know what to say, so she said nothing.</p> + +<p>Florizel came and stood quite close to her.</p> + +<p>'I used to wish I was a Prince,' he said, 'but I don't now. I'd rather +be an engineer. If I'd been a Prince I should never have seen you.'</p> + +<p>'I don't want you to be a bit different,' said the Princess. And she +stooped to smell the jasmine in his buttonhole.</p> + +<p>'So we're betrothed,' said Florizel.</p> + +<p>'Are we?' said Candida.</p> + +<p>'Aren't we?' he said.</p> + +<p>'Well, yes, I suppose we are,' said she.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Very well, then,' said Florizel, and he kissed the Princess.</p> + +<p>'You're sure you don't mind marrying an engineer?' he said, when she had +kissed him back.</p> + +<p>'Of course not,' said the Princess.</p> + +<p>'Then I'll buy the ring,' said he, and kissed her again.</p> + +<p>Then she gave him the rest of the jasmine, with a kiss for each star, +and he gave her a little keepsake in return, and they parted.</p> + +<p>'My heart is yours,' said Florizel, 'and my life is in your hands.'</p> + +<p>'My life is yours,' said she, 'and my heart is in your heart.'</p> + +<p>Now, I am sorry to say that somebody had been listening all the time +behind another curtain, and when the Princess had gone to her breakfast +and the Lift-man had gone down in his lift, this somebody came out and +said, 'Aha!'</p> + +<p>It was a wicked, ugly, disagreeable, snub-nosed page-boy, who would have +liked to marry the Princess himself. He had really no chance, and never +could have had, because his father was only a rich brewer. But he felt +himself to be much superior to a lift-man. And he was the kind of boy +who always sneaks if he has half a chance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> So he went and told the King +that he had seen the Princess kissing the Lift-man in the morning all +bright and early.</p> + +<p>The King said he was a lying hound, and put him in prison at once for +mentioning such a thing—which served him right.</p> + +<p>Then the King thought it best to find out for himself whether the +snub-nosed page-boy had spoken the truth.</p> + +<p>So he watched in the morning all bright and early, and he saw the +Princess come stealing along on the tips of her little pink toes, and +the lift (Argentinella design) came up, and the Lift-man in it. And the +Princess gave him kissed jasmine to put in his buttonhole.</p> + +<p>So the King jumped out on them and startled them dreadfully. And +Florizel was locked up in prison, and the Princess was locked up in her +room with only the eldest lady-in-waiting to keep her company. And the +Princess cried all day and all night. And she managed to hide the +keepsake the Prince had given her. She hid it in a little book of +verses. And the eldest lady saw her do it. Florizel was condemned to be +executed for having wanted to marry someone so much above him in +station. But when the axe fell on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> his neck the axe flew to pieces, and +the neck was not hurt at all. So they sent for another axe and tried +again. And again the axe splintered and flew. And when they picked up +the bits of the axe they had all turned to leaves of poetry books.</p> + +<p>So they put off the execution till next day.</p> + +<p>The gaoler told the snub-nosed page all about it when he took him his +dinner of green water and mouldering crusts.</p> + +<p>'Couldn't do the trick!' said the gaoler. 'Two axes broke off short and +the bits turned to rubbish. The executioner says the rascal has a +Charmed Life.'</p> + +<p>'Of course he has,' said the ugly page, sniffing at the crusts with his +snub-nose. 'I know all about that, but I shan't tell unless the King +gives me a free pardon and something fit to eat. Roast pork and onion +stuffing, I think. And you can tell him so.'</p> + +<p>So the gaoler told the King. And the King gave the snub-nosed page the +pardon and the pork, and then the page said:</p> + +<p>'He has a Charmed Life. I heard him tell the Princess so. And what is +more, he gave it to her to keep. And she said she'd hide it in a safe +place!'</p> + +<p>Then the King told the eldest lady-in-waiting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> to watch, and she did +watch, and saw the Princess take Florizel's Charmed Life and hide it in +a bunch of jasmine. So she took the jasmine and gave it to the King, and +he burnt it. But the Princess had not left the Life in the jasmine.</p> + +<p>Then they tried to hang Florizel, because, of course, he had an ordinary +life as well as a charmed one, and the King wished him to be without any +life at all.</p> + +<p>Thousands of people crowded to see the presumptuous Lift-man hanged, and +the execution lasted the whole morning, and seven brand new ropes were +wasted one after the other, and they all left off being ropes and turned +into long wreaths of jasmine, which broke into bits rather than hang +such a handsome Lift-man.</p> + +<p>The King was furious. But he was not too furious to see that the +Princess must have taken the Charmed Life out from the jasmine flowers, +and put it somewhere else, when the eldest lady was not looking.</p> + +<p>And it turned out afterwards that the Princess had held Florizel's life +in her hand all the time the execution was going on. The eldest +lady-in-waiting was clever, but she was not so clever as the Princess.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></p> + +<p>The next morning the eldest lady brought the Princess's silver mirror to +the King.</p> + +<p>'The Charmed Life is in that, your Majesty,' she said. 'I saw the +Princess put it in.'</p> + +<p>And so she had, but she had not seen the Princess take it out again +almost directly afterwards.</p> + +<p>The King smashed the looking-glass, and gave orders that poor Florizel +was to be drowned in the palace fishpond.</p> + +<p>So they tied big stones to his hands and feet and threw him in. And the +stones changed to corks and held him up, and he swam to land, and when +they arrested him as he landed they found that on each of the corks +there was a beautiful painting of Candida's face, as she saw it every +morning in her mirror.</p> + +<p>Now, the King and Queen of Bohemia, Florizel's father and mother, had +gone to Margate for a fortnight's holiday.</p> + +<p>'We will have a thorough holiday,' said the King; 'we will forget the +world, and not even look at a newspaper.'</p> + +<p>But on the third day they both got tired of forgetting the world, and +each of them secretly bought a newspaper and read it on the beach, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> +each rushed back and met the other on the steps of the boarding-house +where they were staying. And the Queen began to cry, and the King took +her in his arms on the doorstep, to the horror of the other boarders, +who were looking out of the windows at them; and then they rushed off to +the railway station, leaving behind them their luggage and the +astonished boarders, and took a special train to town. Because the King +had read in his newspaper, and the Queen in hers, that the Lift-man was +being executed every morning from nine to twelve; and though, so far, +none of the executions had ended fatally, yet at any moment the Prince's +Charmed Life might be taken, and then there would be an end of the daily +executions—a very terrible end.</p> + +<p>Arrived at the capital, the poor Queen of Bohemia got into a hansom with +the King, and they were driven to the palace. The palace-yard was +crowded.</p> + +<p>'What is the matter?' the King of Bohemia asked.</p> + +<p>'It's that Lift-man,' said a bystander, with spectacles and a straw hat; +'he has as many lives as a cat. They tried boiling oil this morning, and +the oil turned into white-rose leaves, and the fire<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> under it turned to +a white-rose bush. And now the King has sent for Princess Candida, and +is going to have it out with her. The whole thing has been most +exciting.'</p> + +<p>'I should think so,' said the Lift-man's father.</p> + +<p>'Of course,' said the bystander in spectacles, 'everyone who has read +any history knows that Lift-men don't have charmed lives. But our King +never would learn history, so he doesn't see that of course the Lift-man +is a Prince disguised. The question is, Will he find out in time? I +can't think why the Lift-man doesn't own his Princishness, and have done +with it.'</p> + +<p>'Perhaps he doesn't know it himself,' said the King of Bohemia.</p> + +<p>He gave his arm to his wife, and they managed to squeeze through to the +great council hall, where the King of that country sat on his gold +throne, surrounded by lords-in-waiting, judges in wigs, and other people +in other things.</p> + +<p>Florizel was there loaded with chains, and standing in a very noble +attitude at one corner of the throne steps. At the other stood the +Princess, looking across at her lover with her dear gray eyes.</p> + +<p>'Now,' said the King, 'I am tired of diplomacy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> and tact, and the eldest +lady-in-waiting is less of a Sherlock Holmes than I thought her, so let +us be straightforward and honest. Have you got a Charmed Life?'</p> + +<p>'I haven't exactly got it,' said Florizel. 'My life is not my own now.'</p> + +<p>'Did he give it to you?' the King asked his daughter.</p> + +<p>'I cannot tell a lie, father,' said the Princess, just as though her +name had been George Washington instead of Candida; 'he did give it to +me.'</p> + +<p>'What have you done with it?'</p> + +<p>'I have hidden it in different places. I have saved it; he saved mine +once.'</p> + +<p>'Where is it?' asked her father, 'as you so justly observe you cannot +tell a lie.'</p> + +<p>'If I tell you,' said the Princess, 'will you give your Royal word that +the execution you have ordered for this morning shall be really the +last? You can destroy the object that I have hidden his Charmed Life in, +and then you can destroy him. But you must promise me not to ask me to +hide his Life in any new place, because I am tired of hide-and-seek.'</p> + +<p>All the judges and lords-in-waiting and people<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> felt really sorry for +the Princess, for they thought all these executions had turned her +brain.</p> + +<p>'I give you my Royal word,' said the King upon his throne. 'I won't ask +you to hide his Life any more. Indeed, I was against the practice from +the first. Now, where have you hidden his Life?'</p> + +<p>'In my heart,' said the Princess, brave and clear, so that everyone +heard her in the big hall. 'You can't take his Life without taking mine, +and if you take mine you may as well take his, for he won't care to go +on living without me.'</p> + +<p>She sprang across the throne steps to Florizel, and his fetters jangled +as she threw her arms round him.</p> + +<p>'Dear me!' said the King, rubbing his nose with his sceptre; 'this is +very awkward.'</p> + +<p>The Princess laughed happily.</p> + +<p>'Oh, my clever Princess,' whispered Florizel; 'you're as clever as +you're dear, and as dear as you're beautiful.'</p> + +<p>There was a silence.</p> + +<p>'Well, really,' said the King, 'I don't quite see——'</p> + +<p>The father and mother of Florizel had wriggled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> and wormed their way +through the crowd to a front place, and now the father spoke.</p> + +<p>'Your Majesty, allow me. Perhaps I can assist your decision.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, all right,' said the King upon his throne; 'go ahead. I'm struck +all of a heap.'</p> + +<p>'You see before you,' said the King of Bohemia, 'one known to the world +of science and of business as R. Bloomsbury, inventor and patenter of +many mechanical novelties—among others the Patent Lightning Lift—now +formed into a company of which I am the chairman. The young +Lift-man—whose fetters are most clumsily designed, if you will pardon +my saying so—is my son.'</p> + +<p>'Of course he's somebody's son,' said the King upon his throne.</p> + +<p>'Well, he happens to be mine, and I gather that you do not think him a +good enough match for your daughter.'</p> + +<p>'Without wishing to hurt your feelings——' began Candida's father.</p> + +<p>'Exactly. Well, know, O King on your throne, and everyone else, that +this young Lift-man is no other than Florizel, Prince of Bohemia. I am +the King of Bohemia, and this is my Queen.'</p> + +<p>As he spoke he took his crown out of his pocket<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> and put it on. His wife +took off her bonnet and got her crown out of her reticule and put that +on, and Florizel's crown was handed to the Princess, who fitted it on +for him, because his hands were awkward with chains.</p> + +<p>'Your most convincing explanation alters everything,' said the King upon +his throne, and he came down to meet the visitors. 'Bless you, my +children! Strike off his chains, can't you? I hope there's no +ill-feeling, Florizel,' he added, turning to the Prince; 'you see, an +engineer is only an engineer, whereas a Prince is a Prince, be he never +so disinherited. Will half an hour from now suit you for the wedding?'</p> + +<p>So they were married, and they still live very happily. They will live +as long as is good for them, and when Candida dies Florizel will die +too, because she still carries his Life in her heart.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BILLY_THE_KING" id="BILLY_THE_KING"></a>BILLY THE KING</h2> + + +<p>'Now, William,' said Billy King's great-uncle, 'you are old enough to +earn your own living, so I shall find you a nice situation in an office, +and you will not return to school.'</p> + +<p>The blood of Billy King ran cold in his veins. He looked out over the +brown wire blinds into Claremont Square, Pentonville, which was where +his uncle lived, and the tears came into his eyes; for, though his uncle +thought he was old enough to earn his own living, he was still young +enough to hate the idea of having to earn it in an office, where he +would never do anything, or make anything, or see anything, but only add +up dull figures from year's end to year's end.</p> + +<p>'I don't care,' said Billy to himself. 'I'll run away and get a +situation on my own—something interesting. I wonder if I could learn +how to be a pirate captain or a highwayman?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p> + +<p>And next morning Billy got up very early, before anyone was about, and +ran away.</p> + +<p>He ran till he was out of breath and then he walked, and he walked till +he was out of patience, and then he ran again, and between walking and +running he came at last plump up to the door of a shop. And over the +shop there were big painted letters saying, 'Registry office for all +sorts of persons out of employment.'</p> + +<p>'I'm out of employment, anyway,' said he. The window of the shop had big +green-baize-shutter sort of things in them, with white cards fastened +on to them with drawing-pins, and on the cards were written the kind of +persons out of employment the registry office had got places for. And in +the very first one he read there was his own name—King!</p> + +<p>'I've come to the right shop,' said Billy, and he read the card through. +'Good general King wanted. Must be used to the business.'</p> + +<p>'That's not me, I'm afraid,' thought Billy, 'because whatever a general +King's business is I can't be used to it till I've tried it.'</p> + +<p>The next was: 'Good steady King wanted. Must be quick, willing, and up +to his work.'</p> + +<p>'I'm willing enough,' said Billy, 'and I'm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> quick enough—at any rate, +at fives or footer—but I don't know what a steady King's work is.' So +he looked at another card.</p> + +<p>'Wanted, respectable King to take entire charge of Parliament, and to +assist in Cabinet Councils and Reform of the Army, to open Bazaars and +Schools of Art, and make himself generally useful.'</p> + +<p>Billy shook his head.</p> + +<p>'I think that must be a very hard place,' said he.</p> + +<p>The next was: 'Competent Queen wanted; economical and good manager.'</p> + +<p>'Whatever else I am I'm not a Queen,' said Billy, and he was just +turning sadly away, when he saw a little card stuck away in the +right-hand top corner of the baize field.</p> + +<p>'Hard-working King wanted; no objection to one who has not been out +before.'</p> + +<p>'I can but try,' said Billy, and he opened the door of the registry +office and walked in.</p> + +<p>Inside there were several desks. At the first desk a lion with a pen +behind its ear was dictating to a unicorn, who was writing in a series +of Blue-books with his horn. Billy noticed that the horn had been +sharpened to a nice point, like a lead pencil when the drawing-master +does it for you as a favour.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I think you want a King?' said Billy timidly.</p> + +<p>'No, we don't,' said the lion, and it turned on him so quickly that +Billy was sorry he had spoken. 'The situation is filled, young man, and +we're thoroughly suited.'</p> + +<p>Billy was turning away, much dispirited, when the unicorn said: 'Try +some of the others.'</p> + +<p>So he went on to the next desk, where a frog sat sadly. But it only +wanted Presidents; and at the next desk an eagle told him that only +Emperors were wanted, and those very seldom. It was not till he got to +the very end of the long room that Billy found a desk where a fat pig in +spectacles sat reading a cookery-book.</p> + +<p>'Do you want a King?' said Billy. 'I've not been out before.'</p> + +<p>'Then you're the King for us,' said the pig, shutting the cookery-book +with a bang. 'Hard-working, I suppose, as the notice says?'</p> + +<p>'I think I should be,' said Billy, adding, honestly, 'especially if I +liked the work.'</p> + +<p>The pig gave him a square of silver parchment and said, 'That's the +address.'</p> + +<p>On the parchment was written:</p> + +<p>'Kingdom of Plurimiregia. Billy King, Respectable Monarch. Not been out +before.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p> + +<p>'You'd better go by post,' said the pig. 'The five o'clock post will +do.'</p> + +<p>'But why—but how—where is it?' asked Billy.</p> + +<p>'I don't know where it is,' said the pig, 'but the Post-Office knows +everything. As to how—why, you just tie a label round your neck and +post yourself in the nearest letter-box. As to why, that's a silly +question, really, your Majesty. Don't you know the Post-Office always +takes charge of the Royal males?'</p> + +<p>Billy was just putting the address carefully away in what would have +been his watch-pocket if he had had any relation in the world except a +great-uncle, when the swing door opened gently and a little girl came +in. She looked at the lion and unicorn and the other busy beasts behind +their desks, and she did not seem to like the look of them. She looked +up the long room and she saw Billy, and she came straight up to him and +said:</p> + +<p>'Please I want a situation as Queen. It says in the window previous +experience not required.'</p> + +<p>She was a very shabby little girl, with a clean, round, rosy face, and +she looked as little like a Queen with previous experience as anybody +could possibly have done.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I'm not the registry office, my good kid,' said Billy.</p> + +<p>And the pig said, 'Try the next desk.'</p> + +<p>Behind the next desk sat a lizard, but it was so large it was more like +an alligator, only with a less unpleasant expression about the mouth.</p> + +<p>'Speak to him,' said the pig, as the lizard leaned forward on his front +paws like a draper's assistant when he says, 'What's the next article?'</p> + +<p>'I don't like to,' said the little girl.</p> + +<p>'Nonsense, you little duffer!' said Billy kindly; 'he won't eat you.'</p> + +<p>'Are you sure?' said the little girl very earnestly.</p> + +<p>Then Billy said, 'Look here, I'm a King, and so I've got a situation. +Are you a Queen?'</p> + +<p>'My name's Eliza Macqueen,' said the little girl. 'I suppose that's near +enough.'</p> + +<p>'Well, then,' said Billy to the lizard, 'will she do?'</p> + +<p>'Perfectly, I should say,' replied the lizard, with a smile that did not +become him very well. 'Here is the address.' He gave it to her; it read:</p> + +<p>'Kingdom of Allexanassa. Queen, not been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> out before; willing, obliging, +and anxious to learn.'</p> + +<p>'Your kingdoms,' he added, 'are next door to each other.'</p> + +<p>'So we shall see each other often,' said Billy. 'Cheer up! We might +travel together, perhaps.'</p> + +<p>'No,' said the pig; 'Queens go by railway. A Queen has to begin to get +used to her train as soon as she can. Now, run along, do. My friend here +will see her off.'</p> + +<p>'You're sure they won't eat me?' said Eliza—and Billy was certain they +wouldn't, though he didn't know why. So he said, 'Good-bye. I hope +you'll get on in your new place,' and off he went to buy a penny luggage +label at the expensive stationer's three doors down the street on the +right-hand side. And when he had addressed the label and tied it round +his neck, he posted himself honourably at the General Post-Office. The +rest of the letters in the box made a fairly comfortable bed, and Billy +fell asleep. When he awoke he was being delivered by the early morning +postman at the Houses of Parliament in the capital of Plurimiregia, and +the Houses of Parliament were just being opened for the day. The air of +Plurimiregia was clear and blue, very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> different from the air of +Claremont Square, Pentonville. The hills and woods round the town looked +soft and green, from the hill in the middle of the town where the +Parliament Houses stood. The town itself was small and very pretty, like +one of the towns in old illuminated books, and it had a great wall all +round it, and orange trees growing on the wall. Billy wondered whether +it was forbidden to pick the oranges.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 570px;"> +<img src="images/gs14.jpg" width="570" height="600" alt="'"Come by post, your Lordship," said the footman.'—Page +255." title="" /> +<span class="caption">'"Come by post, your Lordship," said the footman.'—Page +255.</span> +</div> + +<p>When Parliament was opened by the footman whose business it was, Billy +said:</p> + +<p>'Please, I've come about the place——'</p> + +<p>'The King's or the cook's?' asked the footman.</p> + +<p>Billy was rather angry.</p> + +<p>'Now, do I look like a cook?' he said.</p> + +<p>'The question is, do you look like a King?' said the footman.</p> + +<p>'If I get the place you will be sorry for this,' said Billy.</p> + +<p>'If you get the place you won't keep it long' said the footman. 'It's +not worth while being disagreeable; there's not time to do it properly +in. Come along in.'</p> + +<p>Billy went along in, and the footman led him into the presence of the +Prime Minister, who was sitting with straws in his hair, wringing his +hands.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span></p> + + + +<p>'Come by post, your lordship,' the footman said—'from London.'</p> + +<p>The Prime Minister left off wringing his hands, and held one of them out +to Billy. 'You will suit!' he said. 'I'll engage you in a minute. But +just pull the straws out of my hair first, will you? I only put them in +because we hadn't been able to find a suitable King, and I find straws +so useful in helping my brain to act in a crisis. Of course, once you're +engaged for the situation, no one will ask you to do anything useful.'</p> + +<p>Billy pulled the straws out, and the Prime Minister said:</p> + +<p>'Are they all out? Thanks. Well, now you're engaged—six months on +trial. You needn't do anything you don't want to. Now, your Majesty, +breakfast is served at nine. Let me conduct you to the Royal +apartments.'</p> + +<p>In ten minutes Billy had come out of a silver bath filled with scented +water, and was putting on the grandest clothes he had ever seen in his +life. Everything was of thick, soft, pussy silk, and his boots had gold +heels with gold spurs on them.</p> + +<p>For the first time in his life it was with personal pleasure, and not +from a sense of duty, that he brushed his hair and satisfied himself +that none of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> his nails were in mourning. Then he went to breakfast, +which was so fine that none but a French cook could have either cooked +or described it. He was a little hungry—he had had nothing to eat since +the bread and cheese at supper in Claremont Square the night before +last.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 534px;"> +<img src="images/gs15.jpg" width="534" height="600" alt="'"Excuse my hair, Sire," he said.'—Page 256." title="" /> +<span class="caption">'"Excuse my hair, Sire," he said.'—Page 256.</span> +</div> + + + +<p>After breakfast he rode out on a white pony, a thing he might have lived +in Claremont Square for ever without doing. And he found he rode very +well. After the ride he went on the sea in a boat, and was surprised and +delighted to find that he knew how to sail as well as how to steer. In +the afternoon he was taken to a circus; and in the evening the whole +Court played blind-man's buff. A most enchanting day!</p> + +<p>Next morning the breakfast was boiled underdone eggs and burnt herrings. +The King was too polite to make remarks about his food, but he did feel +a little disappointed.</p> + +<p>The Prime Minister was late for breakfast and came in looking hot and +flurried, and a garland of straw was entwined in the Prime Ministerial +hair.</p> + +<p>'Excuse my hair, sire,' he said. 'The cook left last night, but a new +one comes at noon to-day. Meantime, I have done my best.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p> + +<p>Billy said it was all right, and he had had an excellent breakfast. The +second day passed as happily as the first; the cook seemed to have +arrived, for the breakfast was made up for by the lunch. And Billy had +the pleasure of shooting at a target at two thousand yards with the +Lee-Metford rifle which had arrived by the same post as himself, and +hitting the bull's-eye every time.</p> + +<p>This is really a rare thing—even when you are a King. But Billy began +to think it curious that he should never have found out before how +clever he was, and when he took down a volume of Virgil and found that +he could read it as easily as though it had been the 'Child's First +Reading-Book,' he was really astonished. So Billy said to the Prime +Minister:</p> + +<p>'How is it I know so many things without learning them?'</p> + +<p>'It's the rule here, sire,' said the Prime Minister. 'Kings are allowed +to know everything without learning it.'</p> + +<p>Now, the next morning Billy woke very early, and got up and went out +into the garden, and, turning a corner suddenly, he came upon a little +person in a large white cap, with a large white apron on, in which she +was gathering sweet pot-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span>herbs, thyme, and basil, and mint, and savory, +and sage, and marjoram. She stood up and dropped a curtsy.</p> + +<p>'Halloa!' said Billy the King; 'who are you?'</p> + +<p>'I'm the new cook,' said the person in the apron.</p> + +<p>Her big flapping cap hid her face, but Billy knew her voice.</p> + +<p>'Why,' said he, turning her face up with his hands under her chin, +'you're Eliza!'</p> + +<p>And sure enough it was Eliza, but her round face looked very much +cleverer and prettier than it had done when he saw it last.</p> + +<p>'Hush!' she said. 'Yes, I am. I got the place as Queen of Allexanassa, +but it was all horribly grand, and such long trains, and the crown is +awfully heavy. And yesterday morning I woke very early, and I thought +I'd just put on my old frock—mother made it for me the very last thing +before she was taken ill.'</p> + +<p>'Don't cry,' said Billy the King gently.</p> + +<p>'And I went out, and there was a man with a boat, and he didn't know I +was the Queen, and I got him to take me for a row on the sea, and he +told me some things.'</p> + +<p>'What sort of things?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Why, about us, Billy. I suppose you're the same as I am now, and know +everything without learning it. What's Allexanassa Greek for?'</p> + +<p>'Why, something like the Country of Changing Queens, isn't it?'</p> + +<p>'And what does Plurimiregia mean?'</p> + +<p>'That must mean the land of many Kings. Why?'</p> + +<p>'Because that's what it is. They're always changing their Kings and +Queens here, for a most horrid and frightening reason, Billy. They get +them from a registry office a long way off so that they shouldn't know. +Billy, there's a dreadful dragon, and he comes once a month to be fed. +And they feed him with Kings and Queens! That's why we know everything +without learning. Because there's no time to learn in. And the dragon +has two heads, Billy—a pig's head and a lizard's head—and the pig's +head is to eat <i>you</i> with and the lizard's head will eat <i>me</i>!'</p> + +<p>'So they brought us here for that,' said Billy—'mean, cruel, cowardly +brutes!'</p> + +<p>'Mother always said you could never tell what a situation was like until +you tried it,' said Eliza. 'But what are we to do? The dragon comes +to-morrow. When I heard that I asked where your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> kingdom was, and the +boatman showed me, and I made him land me here. So Allexanassa hasn't +got a Queen now, but Plurimiregia has got us both.'</p> + +<p>Billy rumpled his hair with his hands.</p> + +<p>'Oh, my cats alive!' he said, 'we must do something; but I'll tell you +what it is, Eliza. You're no end of a brick to come and tell me. You +might have got off all by yourself, and left me to the pig's head.'</p> + +<p>'No, I mightn't,' said Eliza sharply. 'I know everything that people can +learn, the same as you, and that includes right and wrong. So you see I +<i>mightn't</i>.'</p> + +<p>'That's true! I wonder whether our being clever would help us? Let's +take a boat and steer straight out, and take our chance. I can sail and +steer beautifully.'</p> + +<p>'So can I,' said Eliza disdainfully; 'but, you see, it's too late for +that. Twenty-four hours before the beast comes the sea-water runs away, +and great waves of thick treacle come sweeping round the kingdoms. No +boat can live in such a sea.'</p> + +<p>'Well, but how does the dragon get here? Is he on the island?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span></p> + +<p>'No,' said Eliza, squeezing up handfuls of herbs in her agitation till +the scent quite overpowered the scent of the honeysuckle. 'No; he comes +out of the sea. But he is very hot inside, and he melts the treacle so +that it gets quite thin, like when it runs out of a treacle-pudding, and +so he can swim in it, and he comes along to the quay, and is fed—with +<i>Us</i>.'</p> + +<p>Billy shuddered.</p> + +<p>'I wish we were back in Claremont Square,' said he.</p> + +<p>'So do I, I'm sure,' said Eliza. 'Though I don't know where it is, nor +yet want to know.'</p> + +<p>'Hush!' said Billy suddenly. 'I hear a rustling. It's the Prime +Minister, and I can hear he's got straws in his hair again, most likely +because you're disappeared, and he thinks he will have to cook the +breakfast. Meet me beside the lighthouse at four this afternoon. Hide in +this summer-house and don't come out till the coast's clear.'</p> + +<p>He ran out and took the Prime Minister's arm.</p> + +<p>'What is the straw for now?'</p> + +<p>'Merely a bad habit,' said the Prime Minister wearily.</p> + +<p>Then Billy suddenly saw, and he said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p> + +<p>'You're a beastly mean, cowardly sneak, and you feel it; that's what the +straws are about!'</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;"> +<img src="images/gs16.jpg" width="650" height="445" alt="'"Speak to the dragon as soon as it arrives."' Page 263." title="" /> +<span class="caption">'"Speak to the dragon as soon as it arrives."' Page 263.</span> +</div> + +<p>'Your Majesty!' said the Prime Minister feebly.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Billy firmly; 'you know you are. Now, I know all the laws of +Plurimiregia, and I'm going to abdicate this morning, and the next in +rank has to be King if he can't engage a fresh one. You're next in rank +to me, so by the time the dragon comes you'll be the King. I'll attend +your Coronation.'</p> + +<p>The Prime Minister gasped, 'How did you find out?' and turned the colour +of unripe peaches.</p> + +<p>'That's tellings,' said Billy. 'If you hadn't all been such sneaks, I +expect heaps of your Kings had sense enough to have got rid of the +dragon for you. Only I suppose you've never told them in time. Now, look +here. I don't want you to do anything except keep your mouth shut, and +let there be a boat, and no boatman, on the beach under the lighthouse +at four o'clock.'</p> + +<p>'But the sea's all treacle.'</p> + + + +<p>'I said on the beach, not on the sea, my good straw merchant. And what I +say you've jolly well got to do. You must be there—and no one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> else. +If you tell a soul I'll abdicate, and where will you be then?'</p> + + + +<p>'I don't know,' said the wretched Prime Minister, stooping to gather +some more straws from the strawberry bed.</p> + +<p>'But I do,' said Billy. 'Now for breakfast.'</p> + +<p>Before four o'clock that afternoon the Prime Minister's head was a +perfect bird's-nest of straws. But he met Billy at the appointed place, +and there was a boat—and also Eliza. Billy carried his Lee-Metford.</p> + +<p>A wind blew from the shore, and the straws in the Prime Minister's hair +rustled like a barley-field in August.</p> + +<p>'Now,' said Billy the King, 'my Royal Majesty commands you to speak to +the dragon as soon as it arrives, and to say that your King has +abdicated——'</p> + +<p>'But he hasn't,' said the Prime Minister in tears.</p> + +<p>'But he <i>does now</i>—so you won't be telling a lie. I abdicate. But I +give you my word of honour I'll turn King again as soon as I've tried my +little plan. I shall be quite in time to meet my fate—and the dragon. +Say "The King has abdicated. You'd better just look in at Allexanassa +and get<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> the Queen, and when you call again I'll have a nice fat King +all ready for you."'</p> + +<p>The straws trembled, and Eliza sobbed.</p> + +<p>Billy went on; and he had never felt so truly regal as now, when he was +preparing to risk his life in order to save his subjects from the +monthly temptation to be mean and cowardly and sneakish. I think myself +it was good of Billy. He might just have abdicated and let things slide. +Some boys would have.</p> + +<p>The sea of greeny-black treacle heaved and swelled sulkily against the +beach. The Prime Minister said:</p> + +<p>'Very well; I'll do it. But I'd sooner die than see my King false to his +word.'</p> + +<p>'You won't have to choose between the two,' said Billy, very pale, but +determined. 'Your King's not a hound, like—like some-people.'</p> + +<p>And then, far away on the very edge of the green treacly sea, they saw a +squirming and a squelching and clouds of steam, and all sorts of +exciting and unpleasant things happening very suddenly and all together.</p> + +<p>The Prime Minister covered his head with dry seaweed and said:</p> + +<p>'That's Him.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p> + +<p>'That's <i>He</i>,' corrected Eliza the Queen and Billy the King in one +breath.</p> + +<p>But the Prime Minister was long past any proper pride in his grammar.</p> + +<p>And then, cutting its way through the thick, sticky waves of the treacle +sea, came the hot dragon, melting a way for himself as he came. And he +got nearer and nearer and bigger and bigger, and at last he came close +to the beach, snouting and snorting, and opened two great mouths in an +expecting, hungry sort of way; and when he found he was not being fed +the expression of the mouths changed to an angry and surprised question. +And one mouth was a pig's mouth and one was a lizard's.</p> + +<p>Billy the King borrowed a pin from Eliza the Queen to stick into the +Prime Minister, who was by this time nearly buried in the seaweed which +he had been trying to arrange in his hair.</p> + +<p>'Speak up, silly!' said His Majesty.</p> + +<p>The Prime Minister spoke up.</p> + +<p>'Please, sir,' he said to the two-headed dragon, 'our King has +abdicated, so we've nothing for you just now, but if you could just run +over to Allexanassa and pick up their Queen, we'll have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> a nice fat King +ready for you if you'll call on your way home.'</p> + +<p>The Prime Minister shuddered as he spoke. He happened to be very fat.</p> + +<p>The dragon did not say a word. He nodded with both his heads and grunted +with both his mouths, and turned his one tail and swam away along the +track of thin, warm treacle which he had made in swimming across the +sea.</p> + +<p>Quick as thought, Billy the King signed to the Prime Minister and to +Eliza, and they launched the boat. Billy sprang on board and pushed off, +and it was not till the boat was a dozen yards from shore that he turned +to wave a farewell to Eliza and the Prime Minister. The latter was +indeed still on the beach, searching hopefully among the drifts and +weeds for more straws, to mark his sense of the constitutional crisis, +but Eliza had disappeared.</p> + +<p>'Oh dear, oh dear,' said Billy the King; 'surely that brute of a Prime +Minister can't have killed her right off, so as to have her ready for +the dragon when he comes back. Oh, my dear little Eliza!'</p> + +<p>'I'm here,' said a thick voice.</p> + +<p>And, sure enough, there was Eliza, holding on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> to the gunwale of the +boat and swimming heavily in the warm treacle. Nearly choked with it, +too, for she had been under more than once.</p> + +<p>Billy hastened to haul her aboard, and, though she was quite brown and +very, very sticky, the moment she was safe in the boat he threw his arms +round her and said:</p> + +<p>'Dear, darling Eliza, you're the dearest, bravest girl in the world. If +we ever get out of this you'll marry me, won't you? There's no one in +the world like you. Say you will.'</p> + +<p>'Of course I will,' said Eliza, still spluttering through the treacle. +'There's no one in the world like you, either.'</p> + +<p>'Right! Then, if that's so, you steer and I'll sail, and we'll get the +better of the beast yet,' said Billy.</p> + +<p>And he set the sail, and Eliza steered as well as she could in her +treacly state.</p> + +<p>About the middle of the channel they caught up with the dragon. Billy +took up his Lee-Metford and fired its eight bullets straight into the +dragon's side. You have no idea how the fire spurted out through the +bullet-holes. But the wind from shore had caught the sails, and the boat +was now going very much faster than the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> dragon, who found the +bullet-holes annoying, and had slowed up to see what was the matter.</p> + +<p>'Good-bye, you dear, brave Eliza,' said Billy the King. '<i>You're</i> all +right, anyhow.'</p> + +<p>And, holding his reloaded Lee-Metford rifle high over his head, he +plunged into the treacly sea and swam back towards the dragon. It is +very difficult to shoot straight when you are swimming, especially in +nearly boiling treacle, but His Majesty King Billy managed to do it. He +sent his eight bullets straight into the dragon's heads, and the huge +monster writhed and wriggled and squirmed and squawked, all over the sea +from end to end, till at last it floated lifeless on the surface of the +clear, warm treacle, and stretched its wicked paws out, and shut its +wicked eyes, all four of them, and died. The lizard's eyes shut last.</p> + +<p>Then Billy began to swim for dear life towards the shore of +Plurimiregia, and the treacle was so hot that if he hadn't been a King +he would have been boiled. But now that the dreadful dragon was cold in +death there was nothing to keep the treacle sea thin and warm, and it +began to thicken so fast that swimming was very difficult indeed. If you +don't understand this, you need only ask<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> the attendants at your nearest +swimming-baths to fill the baths with treacle instead of water, and you +will very soon comprehend how it was that Billy reached the shore of his +kingdom quite exhausted and almost speechless.</p> + +<p>The Prime Minister was there. He had fetched a whole truss of straw when +he thought Billy's plan had failed, and that the dragon would eat him as +the next in rank, and he wanted to do the thing thoroughly; and when he +warmly embraced the treacly King, Billy became so covered with straws +that he hardly knew himself. He pulled himself together, however, enough +to withdraw his resignation, and then looked out over the sea. In +mid-channel lay the dead dragon, and far in the distance he could see +the white sails of the boat nearing the shores of Allexanassa.</p> + +<p>'And what are we to do now?' asked the Prime Minister.</p> + +<p>'Have a bath,' said the King. 'The dragon's dead, and I'll fetch Eliza +in the morning. They won't hurt her over there now the dragon's killed.'</p> + +<p>'<i>They</i> won't hurt her,' said the Prime Minister. 'It's the treacle. +Allexanassa is an island. The dragon brought the treacle up by his +enchantments, and now there is no one to take it away<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> again. You'll +never get a boat to live in a sea like that—never.'</p> + +<p>'Won't I?' said Billy. 'I'm cleverer than you.'</p> + +<p>But, all the same, he didn't quite see his way to sailing a boat in that +sea, and with a sad and aching heart he went back to the palace to the +silver bath. The treacle and straws took hours to wash off, and after +that he was so tired that he did not want any supper, which was just as +well, because there was no one to cook it. Tired as he was, Billy slept +very badly. He woke up again and again to wonder what had become of his +brave little friend, and to wish that he could have done something to +prevent her being carried away in that boat; but, think as he might, he +failed to see that he could have done any differently. And his heart +sank, for, in spite of his bold words to the Prime Minister, he had no +more idea than you have how to cross the sea of thick treacle that lay +between his kingdom and Allexanassa. He invented steamships with red-hot +screws and paddle-wheels all through his dreams, and when he got up in +the morning he looked out of his window on the dark sea and longed for a +good, gray, foamy, salt, tumbling sea like we have at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> home in +England, no matter how high the waves and the winds might be. But the +wind had fallen, and the dark brown sea looked strangely calm.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;"> +<img src="images/gs17.jpg" width="650" height="471" alt="'The two skated into each other's arms.'—Page 271." title="" /> +<span class="caption">'The two skated into each other's arms.'—Page 271.</span> +</div> + +<p>Hastily snatching a dozen peaches out of the palace garden by way of +breakfast, Billy the King hurried to the beach by the lighthouse. No +heaving of the treacle sea broke the smooth line of it against the +beach. Billy looked—looked again, swallowed the last peach, stone and +all, and tore back to the town.</p> + +<p>He rushed into the chief ironmonger's and bought a pair of skates and a +gimlet. In less time than I can write it he had scurried back to the +beach, bored holes in his gold heels, fastened on the skates, and was +skating away over the brown sea towards Allexanassa. For the treacle, +heated to boiling-point by the passing of the dragon, had now grown +cold, and, of course, it was now <i>toffee</i>! Far off, Eliza had had the +same idea as soon as she saw the toffee, and, of course, as Queen of +Allexanassa, she could skate beautifully. So the two skated into each +other's arms somewhere near the middle of the channel between the two +islands.</p> + +<p>They stood telling each other how happy they were for a few moments, or +it may have been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> a few hours; and when they turned to go back to +Plurimiregia they found that the toffee-ice of the treacle sea was black +with crowds of skaters—for the Allexanassians and the Plurimiregians +had found out the wonderful truth, and were hurrying across to pay +visits to their friends and relations in the opposite islands. Near the +shore the toffee was hidden by troops of children, who had borrowed the +family hammers and were chipping into the solid toffee and eating the +flakes of it as they splintered off.</p> + +<p>People were pointing out to each other the spot where the dragon had +sunk, and when they perceived Billy the King and Eliza the Queen they +sent up a shout that you could have heard miles out at sea—if there had +been any sea—which, of course, there wasn't. The Prime Minister had +lost no time in issuing a proclamation setting forth Billy's splendid +conduct in ridding the country of the dragon, and all the populace were +in a frenzy of gratitude and loyalty.</p> + +<p>Billy turned on a little tap inside his head by some means which I +cannot describe to you, and a bright flood of cleverness poured through +his brain.</p> + +<p>'After all,' he said to Eliza, 'they were going<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> to give us to the +dragon to save their own lives. It's bad, I know. But I don't know +that's it's worse than people who let other people die of lead-poisoning +because they want a particular glaze on their dinner-plates, or let +people die of phosphorus-poisoning so that they may get matches at six +boxes a penny. We're as well off here as in England.'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Eliza.</p> + +<p>So they agreed to stay and go on being King and Queen, on condition that +the Prime Minister consented to give up straws altogether, even in +moments of crisis.</p> + +<p>'I will, your Majesties,' he said, adding, with a polite bow, 'I shall +not need a single straw under your Majesty's able kingship.'</p> + +<p>And all the people cheered like mad.</p> + +<p>Eliza and Billy were married in due course. The kingdoms are now +extremely happy. Both are governed by Billy, who is a very good King +because he knows so much. Eliza got him to change the law about Queens +knowing everything, because she wanted her husband to be cleverer than +she was. But Billy didn't want to make laws to turn his Eliza stupid, so +he just changed the law—only a little bit—so that the King knows<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> +everything a man ought to know, and the Queen knows everything that +ought to be known by a woman. So that's all right.</p> + +<p>Exploring expeditions were fitted out to find the edge of the toffee. It +was found to stand up in cliffs two hundred feet high, overhanging the +real, live, salt-watery sea. The King had ships built at once to sail on +the real sea and carry merchandise to other lands. And so Allexanassa +and Plurimiregia grew richer and richer every day. The merchandise, of +course, is toffee, and half the men in the kingdoms work in the great +toffee-mines. All the toffee you buy in shops comes from there. And the +reason why some of the cheaper kinds you buy are so gritty is, I need +hardly say, because the toffee-miners will not remember, before they go +down into the mines, to wipe their muddy boots on the doormats provided +by Billy the King, with the Royal Arms in seven colours on the middle of +each mat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_PRINCESS_AND_THE_CAT" id="THE_PRINCESS_AND_THE_CAT"></a>THE PRINCESS AND THE CAT</h2> + + +<p>The day when everything began to happen to the Princess began just like +all her ordinary days. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and +the Princess jumped out of bed and ran into the nursery to let the mice +out of the traps in the nursery cupboard. The traps were set every night +with a little bit of cheese in each, and every morning nurse found that +not a single trap had caught a single mouse. This was because the +Princess always let them go. No one knew this except the Princess and, +of course, the mice themselves. And the mice never forgot it.</p> + +<p>Then came bath and breakfast, and then the Princess ran to the open +window and threw out the crumbs to the birds that flew down fluttering +and chirping into the marble terrace. Before lessons began she had an +hour for playing in the garden. But she never began to play till she had +been round to see if any rabbits or moles were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> caught in the traps the +palace gardeners set. The gardeners were lazy, and seldom got to work +before half-past eight, so she always had plenty of time for this.</p> + +<p>Then came lessons with dear old Professor Ouatidontnoisuntwuthnoing, and +then more play, and dinner, and needlework, and play again.</p> + +<p>And now it was teatime.</p> + +<p>'Eat up your bread-and-butter, your Highness,' said nurse, 'and then you +shall have some nice plummy cake.'</p> + +<p>'I don't feel plum-cakey at all to-day, somehow,' said the Princess. 'I +feel just exactly as if something was going to happen.'</p> + +<p>'Something's always happening,' said nurse.</p> + +<p>'Ah! but I mean something horrid,' said the Princess. 'I expect uncle's +going to make some nasty new law about me. Last time it was: "The +Princess is only to wear a white frock on the first Sunday in the +month." He said it was economy, but I know it was only spite.'</p> + +<p>'You mustn't say that, dear,' said nurse. 'You know your rosy and bluey +frocks are just as pretty as the white;' but in her heart she agreed +with the Princess Everilda.</p> + +<p>The Princess's father and mother had died when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> she was quite little, +and her uncle was Regent. Now, you will have noticed that there is +something about uncles which makes it impossible for them to be good in +fairy stories. So of course this uncle was bad, as bad as he could be, +and everyone hated him.</p> + +<p>In fact, though it was now, as I have said, everybody's teatime, nobody +was making any tea: instead they were making a revolution. And just as +the Princess was looking at the half-moon-shaped hole left by her first +bite into her first piece of bread-and-butter, the good Professor burst +into the nursery with his great gray wig all on one side, crying out in +a very loud and very choky voice:</p> + +<p>'The revolution! It's come at last. I <i>knew</i> the people would never +stand that last tax on soap.'</p> + +<p>'The Princess!' said nurse, turning very pale.</p> + +<p>'Yes, I know,' said the Professor. 'There's a boat on the canal, blue +sails with gold letters "P.P."—Pupil of the Professor. It's waiting. +You go down there at once. I'll take the Princess out down the back +stairs.'</p> + +<p>He caught the Princess by her pink bread-and-buttery hand, and dragged +her away.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Hurry, my dear,' he panted; 'it's as much as your life is worth to +delay a minute.'</p> + +<p>But he himself delayed quite three minutes, and that was one minute too +long. He had just run into the palace library for the manuscript of his +life's work, 'Everything Easily Explained,' when the revolutionary crowd +burst in, shouting 'Liberty and Soap!' and caught him. They did not see +the Princess Everilda, because he had just time, when he heard them +coming, to throw a red and green crochet antimacassar over her, and to +hide her behind an armchair.</p> + +<p>'When they've taken me away, go down the back stairs, and try to find +the boat,' he whispered, just before they came and took him away.</p> + +<p>And then Everilda was left alone. When everything was quiet, she said to +herself: 'Now, you mustn't cry; you must do as you're told.' And she +went down the palace back-stairs, and out through the palace kitchen +into the street.</p> + +<p>She had never set foot in the streets before, but she had been driven +through them in a coach with four white horses, and she knew the way to +the canal.</p> + +<p>The canal boat with the blue sails was waiting, and she would have got +to it safely enough, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> she heard a rattling sound, and when she +looked she saw two boys tying an old rusty kettle to a cat's tail.</p> + +<p>'You horrid boys!' she said; 'let poor pussy alone.'</p> + +<p>'Not us,' said the boys.</p> + +<p>Everilda instantly slapped them both, and they were so surprised that +they let the cat go. It scuttled and scurried off, and so did the +Princess. The boys threw stones after her and also after the cat, but +fortunately they were both very bad shots and nobody was hit.</p> + +<p>Even then the Princess would have got safely away, but she saw a boy +sitting on a doorstep crying. So she stopped to ask what was the matter.</p> + +<p>'I'm hungry,' said the boy, 'and father and mother are dead, and my +uncle beat me, so I'm running away——'</p> + +<p>'Oh,' said the Princess, 'so am I. What fun! And I've got a horrid +uncle, too. You come with me, and we'll find my nurse. <i>She's</i> running +away, too. Make haste, or it'll be too late.'</p> + +<p>But when they got to the corner, it <i>was</i> too late.</p> + +<p>The revolutionary crowd caught them; they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> shouted 'Liberty and Soap!' +and they sent the boy to the workhouse, and they put the Princess in +prison; and a good many of them wanted to cut off her pretty little head +then and there, because they thought she would be sure to grow up horrid +like her uncle the Regent.</p> + +<p>But all the people who had ever been inside the palace said what a nice +little girl the Princess really was, and wouldn't hear of cutting off +her darling head. So at last it was decided to get rid of her by +enchantment, and the Head Magician to the Provisional Revolutionary +Government was sent for.</p> + +<p>'Certainly, citizens,' he said, 'I'll put her in a tower on the Forlorn +Island, in the middle of the Perilous Sea—a nice strong tower, with +only one way out.'</p> + +<p>'That's one too many. There's not to be any way out,' said the people.</p> + +<p>'Well, there's a way out of everything, you know,' said the Magician +timidly—he was trembling for his own head—'but it's fifty thousand +millions to one against her ever finding it.'</p> + +<p>So they had to be content with that, and they fetched Everilda out of +her prison; and the Magician took her hand and called his carriage,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> +which was an invention of his own—half dragon, and half motor-car, and +half flying-machine—so that it was a carriage and a half, and came when +it was called, tame as any pet dog.</p> + +<p>He lifted Everilda in, and said 'Gee up!' to his patent carriage, and +the intelligent creature geed up right into the air and flew away. The +Princess shut her eyes tight, and tried not to scream. She succeeded.</p> + +<p>When the Magician's carriage got to the place where it knew it ought to +stop, it did stop, and tumbled Everilda out on to a hard floor, and went +back to its master, who patted it, and gave it a good feed of oil, and +fire, and water, and petroleum spirit.</p> + +<p>The Princess opened her eyes as the sound of the rattling dragon wings +died away. She was alone—quite alone. 'I won't stay here,' said +Everilda; 'I'll run away again.'</p> + +<p>She ran to the edge of the tower and looked down. The tower was in the +middle of a garden, and the garden was in the middle of a wood, and the +wood was in the middle of a field, and after the field there was nothing +more at all except steep cliffs and the great rolling, raging waves of +the Perilous Sea.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span></p> + +<p>'There's no way to run away by,' she said; and then she remembered that +even if she ran away, there was now nowhere to run to, because the +people had taken her palace away from her, and the palace was the only +home she had ever had—and where her nurse was goodness only knew.</p> + +<p>'So I suppose I've got to live here till someone fetches me,' she said, +and stopped crying, like a brave King's daughter as she was.</p> + +<p>'I'll explore,' said Everilda all alone; 'that will be fun.' She said it +bravely, and really it was more fun than she expected. The tower had +only one room on each floor. The top floor was Everilda's bedroom; she +knew that by her gold-backed brushes and things with 'E. P.' on them +that lay on the toilet-table. The next floor was a sitting-room, and the +next a dining-room, and the last of all was a kitchen, with rows of +bright pots and pans, and everything that a cook can possibly want.</p> + +<p>'Now I can play at cooking,' said the Princess. 'I've always wanted to +do that. If only there was something to cook!'</p> + +<p>She looked in the cupboards, and there were lots of canisters and jars, +with rice, and flour, and beans, and peas, and lentils, and macaroni, +and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> currants, and raisins, and candied peel, and sugar, and sago, and +cinnamon. She ate a whole lump of candied citron, and enjoyed it very +much.</p> + +<p>'I shan't starve, anyway,' she said. 'But oh! of course, I shall soon +eat up all these things, and then——'</p> + +<p>In her agitation she dropped the jar; it did not break, but all the +candied peel rolled away into corners and under tables. Yet when she +picked the jar up it was as full as ever.</p> + +<p>'Oh, hooray!' cried Everilda, who had once heard a sentry use that low +expression; 'of course it's a magic tower, and everything is magic in +it. The jars will always be full.'</p> + +<p>The fire was laid, so she lighted it and boiled some rice, but it stuck +to the pot and got burned. You know how nasty burned rice is? and the +macaroni she tried to cook would not get soft. So she went out into the +garden, and had a very much nicer dinner than she could ever have +cooked. Instead of meat she had apples, and instead of vegetables she +had plums, and she had peaches instead of pudding.</p> + +<p>There were rows and rows of beautiful books in the sitting-room, and she +read a little, and wrote a long letter to nurse, in case anyone ever +came<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> who knew nurse's address and would post it for her. And then she +had a nectarine-and-mulberry tea.</p> + +<p>By this time the sun was sinking all red and splendid beyond the dark +waters of the Perilous Sea, and Everilda sat down on the window seat to +watch it.</p> + +<p>I shall not tell you whether she cried at all then. Perhaps you would +have cried just a little if you had been in her place.</p> + +<p>'Oh dear! oh dear! oh dear!' she said, sniffing slightly. (Perhaps she +had a cold.) 'There's nobody to tuck me up in bed—nobody at all.'</p> + +<p>And just as she said it something fat and furry flew between her and the +sunset. It hovered clumsily a moment, and then swooped in at the window.</p> + +<p>'Oh!' cried the Princess, very much frightened indeed.</p> + +<p>'Don't you know me?' said the stout furry creature, folding its wings. +'I'm the cat you saved from the indignity of a rusty kettle in +connection with my honourable tail.'</p> + +<p>'But that cat hadn't got wings,' said Everilda, 'and you're much bigger +than it, and it couldn't talk.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p> + +<p>'How do you know it couldn't talk,' said the Cat; 'did you ask it?'</p> + +<p>'No,' said the Princess.</p> + +<p>'Well, then!' said the Cat 'And as for wings, I needn't wear them if +you'd rather I didn't.'</p> + +<p>The Cat took off her wings, rolled them neatly up, like your father +rolls his umbrella, tied them round with a piece of string, and put them +in the left-hand corner drawer in the bureau.</p> + +<p>'That's better,' said Everilda.</p> + +<p>'And as for size,' said the Cat, 'if I stayed ordinary cat-size I +shouldn't be any use to you. And I've come to be cook, companion, +housemaid, nurse, professor, and everything else, so——'</p> + +<p>'Oh, don't,' said the Princess—'<i>don't</i> get any bigger.'</p> + +<p>For while she was speaking the Cat had been growing steadily, and she +was now about the size of a large leopard.</p> + +<p>'Certainly not,' said the Cat obligingly; 'I'll stop at once.'</p> + +<p>'I suppose,' said the Princess timidly, 'that you're magic?'</p> + +<p>'Of course,' said the Cat; 'everything is, here. Don't you be afraid of +me, now! Come along, my pet, time for bed.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p> + +<p>Everilda umped, for the voice was the voice of her nurse; but it was +also the voice of the Cat.</p> + +<p>'Oh!' cried the Princess, throwing her arms round the cat's large furry +neck, 'I'm not afraid of <i>any</i> thing when you speak like that.'</p> + +<p>So, after all, she had someone to tuck her up in bed. The Cat did it +with large, soft, furry, clever paws, and in two minutes Everilda was +fast asleep.</p> + +<p>And now began the long, lonely, but all the same quite happy time which +the Princess and the Cat spent together on the Forlorn Island.</p> + +<p>Everilda had lessons with the Cat—and then it was the Professor's voice +that the Cat spoke with; and the two did the neat little housework of +the tower together—and then the Cat's voice was like the voices of the +palace housemaids. And they did the cooking and then the Cat's voice was +the cook's voice. And they played games together—and then the voice of +the Cat was like the voices of all sorts of merry children. It was +impossible to be dull with a companion who changed so often.</p> + +<p>'But who are you <i>really</i>?' the Princess used to ask.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p> + +<p>And the Cat always answered:</p> + +<p>'I give it up! Ask another!' as if the Princess had been playing at +riddles.</p> + +<p>'How is it our garden is always so tidy and full of nice fruit and +vegetables?' the Princess asked once, when they had been on the island +about a year.</p> + +<p>'Oh,' said the Cat, 'didn't you know? The moles you used to let out of +the traps do the digging, and the birds you used to feed bring the seeds +in their little beaks, and the mice you used to save from the palace +mouse-traps do the weeding and raking with their sharp little teeth, and +their fine, neat, needly claws.'</p> + +<p>'But how did they get here?' asked the Princess.</p> + +<p>'The usual way—swimming and flying,' said the Cat.</p> + +<p>'But aren't the mice afraid of <i>you</i>?'</p> + +<p>'Of me?' The great Cat drew herself up to her full height. 'Anyone would +think, to hear you, that I was a <i>common</i> cat.' And she was really cross +for nearly an hour.</p> + +<p>That was the only approach to a quarrel that the two ever had.</p> + +<p>Sometimes, at first, the Princess used to say:</p> + +<p>'How long am I to stay here, pussy-nurse?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span></p> + +<p>And the Cat always said in nurse's voice:</p> + +<p>'Till you're grown up, my dear.'</p> + +<p>And the years went by, and each year found the Princess more good, and +clever, and beautiful. And at last she was quite grown up.</p> + +<p>'Now,' said the Cat briskly, 'we must get to work. There's a Prince in a +kingdom a long way off, and he's the only person who can get you off +this island.'</p> + +<p>'Does he know?' asked Everilda.</p> + +<p>'He knows about <i>you</i>, but he doesn't know that he's the person to find +you, and he doesn't know where you are. So now every night I must fly +away and whisper about you in his ear. He'll think it's dreams, but he +believes in dreams; and he'll come in a grand ship with masts of gold +and sails of silk, and carry my Pretty away and make a Queen of her.'</p> + +<p>'Shall I like that, pussy-nurse, do you think?' asked the Princess.</p> + +<p>And the Cat replied:</p> + +<p>'Yes, very much indeed. But you wouldn't like it if it were any other +King than this one, so it's just as well that it's quite impossible for +it to <i>be</i> any other.'</p> + +<p>'How will he come?' asked the Princess.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Don't I tell you? In a ship, of course,' said the Cat.</p> + +<p>'Aren't the rocks dangerous?' asked the Princess.</p> + +<p>'Oh, very,' the Cat answered.</p> + +<p>'Oh,' said the Princess, and grew silent and thoughtful.</p> + +<p>That night the Cat got out its rolled-up wings, and unrolled them, and +brushed them, and fitted them on; then she lighted a large lamp and set +it in the window that looked out on the Perilous Sea.</p> + +<p>'That's the beacon to guide the King to you,' she said.</p> + +<p>'Won't it guide other ships here?' asked the Princess, 'with perhaps +the wrong Kings on board—the ones I shouldn't like being Queen with?'</p> + +<p>'Very likely,' said the Cat; 'but it doesn't matter: they'd only be +wrecked. Serve them right, coming after Princesses that don't want +them.'</p> + +<p>'Oh,' said Everilda.</p> + +<p>The Cat spread her wings, and after one or two trial flights round the +tower, she spread them very wide indeed, and flew away across the black +Perilous Sea, towards a little half moon that was standing on its head +to show sailors that there would be foul weather.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Princess leaned her elbows on the window-sill and looked out over +the sea. Down below in the garden she could hear the kind moles digging +industriously, and the good little mice weeding and raking with their +sharp teeth and their fine needly claws. And far away against the +low-hanging moon she saw the sails and masts of a ship.</p> + +<p>'Oh,' she cried, 'I <i>can't</i>! It's sure not to be <i>his</i> ship. It mustn't +be wrecked.'</p> + +<p>And she turned the lamp out. And then she cried a little, because +perhaps after all it might be <i>his</i> ship, and he would pass by and never +know.</p> + +<p>Next night the Cat went out on another flying excursion, leaving the +lamp lighted. And again the Princess could not bear to go to bed leaving +a lamp burning that might lure honest Kings and brave mariners to +shipwreck, so she put out the lamp and cried a little. And this happened +for many, many, many nights.</p> + +<p>When the Cat swept the room of a morning she used to wonder where all +the pearls came from that she found lying all about the floor. But it +was a magic place, and one soon ceased to wonder much about anything. +She never guessed that the pearls were the tears the Princess<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> shed when +she had put out the lamp, and seen ship after ship that perhaps carried +her own King go sailing safely and ignorantly by, no one on board +guessing that on that rock was a pretty, dear Princess waiting to be +rescued—<i>the</i> Princess, the only Princess that that King would be happy +and glad to have for his Queen.</p> + +<p>And the years went on and on. Every night the Cat lighted the lamp and +flew away to whisper dreams into the ears of the only King who could +rescue the Princess, and every night the Princess put out the lamp and +cried in the dark. And every morning the Cat swept up a dustpan full of +pearls that were Everilda's tears. And again and again the King would +fit out a vessel and sail the seas, and look in vain for the bright +light that he had dreamed should guide him to his Princess.</p> + +<p>The Cat was a good deal vexed; she could not understand how any King +could be so stupid. She always stayed out all night. She used to go and +see her friends after she had done whispering dreams to the King, and +only got home in time to light the fire for breakfast, so she never knew +how the Princess put out the lamp every night, and cried in the dark.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span></p> + +<p>The years went by and went by, and the Princess grew old and gray, for +she had never had the heart to leave the lamp alight, for fear that some +poor mariners who were not her King should be drawn by the lamp to those +cruel rocks and wrecked on them, for of course it wouldn't and couldn't +be the poor mariners' fault that they didn't happen to be the one and +only King who could land safely on the Forlorn Island.</p> + +<p>And when the Princess was quite old, and the tear pearls that had been +swept up by the Cat filled seven big chests in the back-kitchen, the +Princess fell ill.</p> + +<p>'I think I am going to die,' she said to the Cat, 'and I am not really +at all sorry except for you. I think you'll miss me. Tell me now—it's +almost all over—who are you, really?'</p> + +<p>'I give it up,' said the Cat as usual. 'Ask another.'</p> + +<p>But the Princess asked nothing more. She lay on her bed in her white +gown and waited for death, for she was very tired of being alive. Only +she said:</p> + +<p>'Put out that lamp in the window; it hurts my eyes.'</p> + +<p>For even then she thought of the poor men<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> whose ships might be wrecked +just because they didn't happen to be the one and only King with whom +she could be happy.</p> + +<p>So the Cat took the lamp away, but she did not put it out; she set it in +the window of the parlour, and its light shone out over the black waters +of the Perilous Sea.</p> + +<p>And that very night the one and only King—who in all these years had +never ceased to follow the leading of the dreams the Cat whispered in +his ear—came in the black darkness sailing over the Perilous Sea. And +in the black darkness he saw at last the bright white light that his +dreams had promised, and he knew that where the light was his Princess +was, and his heart leaped up, and he bade the helmsmen steer for the +light.</p> + +<p>And for the light they steered. And because he was the only possible +King to mate that Princess, the helmsman found the only possible passage +among the rocks, and the ship anchored safely in a little quiet creek, +and the King landed and went up to the door of the tower and knocked.</p> + +<p>'Who's there?' said the Cat.</p> + +<p>'Me,' said the King, just as you or I might have done.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p> + +<p>'You're late,' said the Cat. 'I'm afraid you've lost your chance.'</p> + +<p>'I took the first chance I got,' said the King. 'Let me in, and let me +see her.'</p> + +<p>He had been so busy all these years trying to find the bright white +light of his dreams that he had not noticed that his hair had gone gray +long ago.</p> + +<p>So the Cat let him in, and led him up the winding stair to the room +where the Princess, very quiet, lay on her white bed waiting for death +to come, for she was very tired.</p> + +<p>The old King stumbled across the bar of moonlight on the floor, flung +down a clanking wallet, and knelt by the bed in the deep shadow, saying:</p> + +<p>'Oh, my dear own Princess, I have come at last.'</p> + +<p>'Is it really you?' she said, and gave him her hands in the shadow. I +hoped it was Death's foot-step I heard coming up the winding stair.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, did you hope for death,' he cried, 'while I was coming to you?'</p> + +<p>'You were long in coming,' said she, 'and I was very tired.'</p> + +<p>'My beautiful dear Princess,' he said, 'you shall rest in my arms till +you are not tired any more.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p> + +<p>'My beautiful King,' she said, 'I am not tired any more now.'</p> + +<p>And then the Cat came in with the lamp, and they looked in each other's +eyes.</p> + +<p>Instead of the beautiful Princess of his dreams the King saw a white, +withered woman whose piteous eyes met his in a look of longing love. The +Princess saw a bent, white-haired man, but love was in his eyes.</p> + +<p>'<i>I</i> don't mind.'</p> + +<p>'<i>I</i> don't mind.'</p> + +<p>They both spoke together. And both thought they spoke the truth. But the +truth was that both were horribly disappointed.</p> + +<p>'Yet, all the same,' said the King to himself, 'old and withered as she +is, she is more to me than the youngest and loveliest of all other +Princesses.'</p> + +<p>'I don't care if he <i>is</i> gray,' said the Princess to herself; 'whatever +he is, he's the only possible one.'</p> + +<p>'Here's a pretty kettle of fish!' said the Cat. 'Why on earth didn't you +come before?'</p> + +<p>'I came as soon as I could,' said the King.</p> + +<p>The Cat, walking about the room in an agitated way, kicked against the +wallet the King had dropped.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span></p> + +<p>'What's this,' she said crossly, rubbing her toes, for the wallet was +hard, and she had hurt herself more than a little.</p> + +<p>'Oh, that,' said the King—'that's just the steel bolts and hammers and +things that my resolves to find the Princess turned into when I failed +and never did find her. I never could bear to throw them away; I had a +sort of feeling that they might be good for something, since they hurt +me so much when they came to me. I thought perhaps I could batter down +the doors of the Princess's tower with them.'</p> + +<p>'They're good for something better than that,' said the Cat joyously.</p> + +<p>She went away, and the two heard her hammering away below. Presently she +staggered in with a great basket of white powder, and emptied it on the +floor; then she went away for more.</p> + +<p>The King helped her with the next basketful, and the next, and the next, +and the next, and the next, and the next, for there were seven of them, +and the heap of white powder stood up in the room as high as the King's +middle.</p> + +<p>'That's powder of pearls,' said the Cat proudly. 'Now, tell me, have you +been a good King?'</p> + +<p>'I have tried to be,' said the white-haired King<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> 'I was a workhouse +boy, and then I was apprenticed to a magician, who taught me how to make +people happy. There was a revolution just at the time when I was put +into the workhouse, and they had a Republic. And I worked my way up till +they made me President.'</p> + +<p>'What became of the King in that revolution?'</p> + +<p>'There wasn't a King, only a Regent. They had him taught a trade, and he +worked for his living. It was the worst punishment they could invent for +him. There was a Princess, too, but she was hidden by a magician. I saw +her once when she was trying to run away. She asked me to run too—to +her nurse——'</p> + +<p>Here his eyes met the Princess's.</p> + +<p>'Oh,' she said, 'that was you, was it?'</p> + +<p>'Oh,' said he, 'then that was you!'</p> + +<p>And they looked long and lovingly in each other's faded eyes.</p> + +<p>'Hurry up,' said the Cat impatiently; 'you were made President. And +then——'</p> + +<p>'Oh, why, then,' said the King, 'they thought it wouldn't be any more +dangerous or expensive to have a King than a President, and prettier at +State shows—ermine, crown, and sceptre, and all that—prettier than +frock-coat and spats. So I agreed.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span></p> + +<p>'And do your people love you?' the Cat asked.</p> + +<p>'I don't know,' said the King simply; 'I love them——'</p> + +<p>As he spoke there came a flutter and flicker of many thousand wings at +the closed casement. The Cat threw the window wide, and in swarmed a +countless crowd of white pigeons.</p> + +<p>'These are the blessings of your people,' said the Cat.</p> + +<p>The wings fluttered and flickered and fanned the heap of pearl dust on +the floor till it burst into flame, and the flame rose up high and white +and clear.</p> + +<p>'Quick!' cried the Cat, 'walk through it. Lead her through.'</p> + +<p>The old King gave his hand to his poor faded love, and raised her from +her couch, and together they passed through the clear fire made of her +patience and self-sacrifice, his high resolve, and the blessings of his +people. And they came out of that fire on the other side.</p> + +<p>'Oh, love, how beautiful you are!' cried the King.</p> + +<p>'Oh, my King, your face is the face of all my dreams!' cried the +Princess.</p> + +<p>And they put their arms round each other and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> cried for joy, because now +they were both young and beautiful again.</p> + +<p>The Cat cried for sympathy.</p> + +<p>'And now we shall live happy ever after,' said the Princess, putting her +other arm round the Cat. 'Dear pussy-nurse, do tell me, now it's all +over, who you really are.'</p> + +<p>'I give it up. Ask another,' said the Cat.</p> + +<p>But as she spoke she went herself through the fire, and on the other +side came out—not one person, but eleven. She was, in fact, the +Professor, the nurse, the palace butler, footman, housemaid, +parlourmaid, between-maid, boots, scullion, boy in buttons, as well as +the rescued cat—all rolled into one!</p> + +<p>'But we only used one part of ourselves at a time,' they all said with +one voice, 'and I hope we were useful.'</p> + +<p>'You were a darling,' said the Princess—'darlings, I mean. But who +turned you all into exactly the pussy-nurse I wanted?'</p> + +<p>'Oh, that was the Magician,' said all the voices in unison; 'he was your +fairy-godfather, you know.'</p> + +<p>'What has become of him?' asked the Princess, clinging to her lover's +arm.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span></p> + +<p>'He's been asleep all this time. It was the condition, the only way he +got leave to work the good magic for all of us,' said the many voices +that were one.</p> + +<p>'Let's go and wake him,' said the King.</p> + +<p>So they all went. And when they woke the Magician, who was sleeping +quietly in his own private room in the palace where the Princess had +once lived, he sneezed seven times for pure joy, and then called for +Welsh rabbit and baked Spanish onions for supper.</p> + +<p>'For after all these years of starvation,' he said, 'I do really think I +may for once take a liberty with my digestion.'</p> + +<p>So he had the supper he wanted; but the King and the Princess had roses +and lilies and wedding-cake, because they were married that very +evening.</p> + +<p>And when you have passed through exactly the sort of fire those two had +passed through, you can never be old, or ugly, or unhappy again, so +those two are happy, and beautiful, and young to this very hour.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_WHITE_HORSE" id="THE_WHITE_HORSE"></a>THE WHITE HORSE</h2> + + +<p>'Please, father,' Diggory said, 'I want to go out and seek my fortune.'</p> + +<p>'Seek your grandmother,' said his father, but not unkindly. He was +smoking a pipe outside his cottage door, and he had a red-spotted +handkerchief over his head because of the flies. There were flies +then, just the same as there are now, though it was a hundred years ago +by the church clock.</p> + +<p>'I wasn't thinking of my grandmother,' said Diggory; 'I was thinking of +my Uncle Diggory. He was the third son of a woodcutter, just like I am, +and he saw right enough that that's the sort that <i>has</i> to go out and +seek its fortune. And I'm getting on, father; I shall be twenty before +you know where you are.'</p> + +<p>'You'll have to be twenty and more before I agree not to know where +<i>you</i> are,' said his father. 'Your Uncle Diggory did well for himself, +sure<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> enough, and many a turkey and chine he's sent us at +Christmas-time; but he started a-horseback, he did. He got the horse +from <i>his</i> Uncle Diggory, and he was a rover too. Now, if you went, +you'd have to go on Shank's mare, and them that go a-foot comes back +a-foot.'</p> + +<p>'Will you let me go, then, if I can get a horse?' said Diggory +coaxingly. 'Do say yes, dad, and then I won't say another word about it +till I've got the horse.'</p> + +<p>'Drat the lad—<i>yes</i>, then!' shouted the father.</p> + +<p>Diggory jumped up from the porch seat.</p> + +<p>'Then farewell home and hey for the road,' cried he, 'for I've got the +horse, dad. My Uncle Diggory sent it to me this very day, and it's tied +up behind the lodge; white it is, and a red saddle and bridle fit for a +King.'</p> + +<p>The woodcutter grumbled, but he was a woodcutter of honour, and having +said 'Yes,' he had to stick to yes.</p> + +<p>So Diggory rode off on the white horse with the scarlet saddle, and all +the village turned out to see him go. He had on his best white smock, +and he had never felt so fine in all his days.</p> + +<p>So he rode away. When he came to the round mound windmill he stopped, +for there was Joyce<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> taking in the clean clothes from the hedge, because +it was Monday evening.</p> + +<p>He told her where he was going.</p> + +<p>'You might take me with you,' she said. 'I'm not so very heavy but what +we could both ride on that great big horse of yours.' And she held up a +face as sweet as a bunch of flowers.</p> + +<p>But Diggory said, 'No, my dear. Why, you little silly, girls can't go to +seek their fortunes. You'd only be in my way! Wish me luck, child.'</p> + +<p>So he rode on, and she folded up the linen all crooked, and damped it +down with her tears, so that it was quite ready for ironing.</p> + +<p>Diggory rode on, and on, and on. He rode through dewy evening, and +through the cool black night, and right into the fresh-scented pinky +pearly dawning. And when it was real live wide-awake morning, Diggory +felt very thin and empty inside his smock, and he remembered that he had +had nothing to eat since dinner-time yesterday, and then it was pork and +greens.</p> + +<p>He rode on, and he rode on, and by-and-by he came to a red brick wall, +very strong and stout, with big buttresses and a stone coping. His horse +(whom he had christened Invicta, and perhaps if he had known as much +Latin as you do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> he would have called him something different) was a +very high horse indeed, and by standing up in his stirrups Diggory could +see over the wall. And he saw that on the other side was an orchard full +of trees full of apples, red, and yellow, and green. He reined Invicta +in close under the wall and said, 'Woa, there! stand still, will 'e?' +And he stood up on the broad saddle and made a jump and caught at the +stone coping of the wall, and next moment he had hung by his hands and +dropped into the orchard. And it was a very long drop indeed. For he had +quite made up his mind to take some of the apples. First, because he was +hungry, and, secondly, because boys <i>will</i> take apples—in stories that +is, of course; <i>really</i>, they would never think of such a thing.</p> + +<p>With a practised eye, Diggory chose the tree with the fattest, rosiest +apples on it. He climbed the tree, and had just settled himself astride +a convenient bough when he heard a voice say: 'Hi! You up there!'</p> + +<p>And, looking down, he saw a flat-faced old man with a red flannel +waistcoat standing under the tree looking up spitefully.</p> + +<p>'Good-morning, my fine fellow,' said the old man. 'You seem a nice +honest lad, and I'm sorry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> for your sake that apple stealing's punished +so severely in these parts.'</p> + +<p>'I've not had any apples yet,' said Diggory. 'Look here, I'll go away if +you like, and we'll say no more about it.'</p> + +<p>'That's a handsome offer, very,' said the nasty old man; 'but this is an +enchanted orchard, and you can't go away without with your leave or by +your leave, as you came in. Why, you can't even get out of the tree—and +as for climbing the wall, no one can do it without a white horse to help +him. So now where are you?'</p> + +<p>Diggory knew very well where he was, and he tried at once to be +somewhere else, but the old man was right. He could move all about the +tree from branch to branch, but the tree felt wrong way up and he felt +wrong way up; that is to say, he could not get to the ground except by +jumping much harder than he knew how to, and then he knew he would only +have fallen back again, just as you would fall back if you jumped up to +the ceiling. He could have fallen off the tree the other way, of course, +but then he would have fallen up into the sky, and there seemed to be +nothing there to stop his falling for ever and ever. So he held tight +and looked at the old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> man. And Diggory thought he looked nastier than +ever.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 415px;"> +<img src="images/gs18.jpg" width="415" height="600" alt="'"Take that," cried he, aiming an apple at the old man's +head.'—Page 307." title="" /> +<span class="caption">'"Take that," cried he, aiming an apple at the old man's +head.'—Page 307.</span> +</div> + +<p>So he said: 'Well?'</p> + +<p>And the old man said: 'Not at all! However, since you had the sense not +to fall off wrong way, I suppose you're the boy I want. Now, look here, +you throw me down those ten big apples, one by one, so that I can catch +them, and I'll let you go out by the Apple Door that no one but me has +the key of.'</p> + +<p>'Why don't you pick them yourself?' Diggory asked.</p> + +<p>'I'm too old; you know very well that old men don't climb trees. Come, +is it a bargain?'</p> + +<p>'I don't know,' said the boy; 'there are lots of apples you can reach +without climbing. Why do you want these so particularly?'</p> + +<p>As he spoke, he picked one of the apples and threw it up and caught it. +I say up, but it was down instead, because of the apple-tree being so +very much enchanted.</p> + +<p>'Oh, <i>don't</i>!' the old man squeaked like a rat in a trap—'<i>don't</i> drop +it! Throw it down to me, you nasty slack-baked, smock-frocked son of a +speckled toad!'</p> + +<p>Diggory's blood boiled at hearing his father called a toad.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span></p> + + + +<p>'Take that!' cried he, aiming the apple at the old man's head.' I wish I +could get out of this tree.'</p> + +<p>The apple hit the old man's head and bounced on to the grass, and the +moment that apple touched the ground Diggory found that he <i>could</i> get +out of the tree if he liked, for he felt that he was now the proper way +up once more, and so was the tree.</p> + +<p>'So,' he said, 'these are wish-apples, are they?'</p> + +<p>'No, no, no, no!' shrieked the old man so earnestly that Diggory knew he +was lying. 'I've just disenchanted you, that's all. You see, most people +fall up out of the tree and you didn't, so I thought I'd let you go, +because I'm a nice kind old man, I am, and I wouldn't so much as hurt a +fly. They aren't wish-apples, indeed they aren't.'</p> + +<p>'Really,' said Diggory. 'I wish you'd speak the truth.'</p> + +<p>With that he picked the second apple and threw it. And the old man began +to speak the truth as hard as ever he could speak. It was like a child +saying a lesson it has just learned, and is afraid of forgetting before +it can get it said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I am a wicked magician. I have turned hundreds of people's heads in +that tree so that they fall into the sky, and when they fall back again, +as they have to do when the tide turns, I make them into apple-trees. I +don't know why I do, but I like to. I suppose it's because I'm wicked. I +never did anything useful with my magic, but I can hurt. And there's +only one way out of this, and I don't mean to show it you.'</p> + +<p>'It's a pity you're so wicked,' said Diggory. 'I wish you were good.'</p> + +<p>He threw down another apple, and instantly the magician became so good +that he could do nothing but sit down and cry to think how wicked he had +been. He was now perfectly useless. But Diggory was no longer afraid of +him, so he gathered the ten apples that were left and put them inside +his shirt, and came down the tree.</p> + +<p>The old man couldn't tell him how to get out, and he couldn't disenchant +the fruit-trees or anything. So Diggory had to spend three wish-apples. +First he spent one on making the old man happy. This was done as it is +in Miss Edgeworth's stories—by giving him a thatched cottage and a +garden, and a devoted grand-daughter to look after him. The next apple +showed Diggory the Apple Door,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> which he had not been able to find, and +he went out by it. You, of course, can find it on the map, but he had no +map, and, besides, it is spelt differently. Before he went out of the +orchard he threw down another apple, and wished the apple-trees to be +disenchanted. And they were. And then the red-walled orchard was full of +Kings and Princesses, and swineherds and goosegirls, and statesmen and +stevedores, and every kind of person you can or can't think of.</p> + +<p>Diggory left them to find their own ways home—some of them lived ever +so long before, and ever so far away—and he himself went out by the +Apple Door, and found his good white horse, who had been eating grass +very happily all the time he had been in the company of the magician, +and that had been two days and a night.</p> + +<p>So Invicta was not hungry, but Diggory was; and, in fact, he was so +hungry that he had to use a wish-apple to get his supper, and that was +very, very wasteful of him, and he often regretted it in after years. It +is true that he wished for the best supper in the world, and had it; but +it was only bread-and-milk! If he had wished for the nicest supper it +would have been different, no doubt.</p> + +<p>Diggory rode on anxiously, arranging what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> wishes he should have with +the rest of the apples, but in the dusk he missed his way and was nearly +drowned in a rain-flooded ford, and poor white Invicta was quite carried +away.</p> + +<p>Then Diggory took off his shirt to wring the water out, and as he took +it off he said: 'I wish I had my good white horse again.'</p> + +<p>And as he said it all the apples but one tumbled out of his shirt on to +the ground, and he heard soft neighings and stampings and hustlings and +rustlings all round him in the dark, and when the moon rose he saw that +he had had his wish—he had his good white horse back again. But as he +had dropped eight apples, he had his good white horse back eight times, +and as eight times one is eight, he had now eight good white horses, all +called Invicta.</p> + +<p>'Well, eight horses are better than nothing!' he said; and when he had +tethered the horses he went to sleep, for he felt strangely feeble and +tired.</p> + +<p>In the morning he woke with pains in every limb. He thought it was a +cold from the wetting in the ford, but it was really rheumatism. And he +could not get rid of it. He tied seven horses together and led them, +riding on the eighth.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Eight horses are a pretty good fortune for a woodcutter's son,' he said +to himself, 'and, anyway, I'm too tired to go looking for any better +one.'</p> + +<p>So he rode home.</p> + +<p>He knew the roads well enough, and yet they seemed different; they were +much better roads to ride over, for one thing, and the hedges and trees +were odd somehow. And the big wood near his father's house seemed very +small as he looked down on it from the hill. But when he got to the +village he thought he must have gone mad, for in the day and two nights +and a day that he had been away the village had grown big and ugly and +yellow-bricky, and there were eight shops and six public-houses besides +the Bill and Billet, and many more people than there used to be, all in +ugly, untidy clothes, and the Round Mound windmill was <i>gone</i>! The +people came crowding round him.</p> + +<p>'What's become of the mill?' he asked, trembling all over.</p> + +<p>The boys and girls and men and women stared, and a very old man stepped +out of the crowd.</p> + +<p>'It were pulled down,' he said, 'when I were a boy.'</p> + +<p>'And the woodcutter's cottage?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span></p> + +<p>'That were burnt down a matter of fifty year ago. Was you a native of +these parts, old man?'</p> + +<p>There was a large plate-glass shop-window just opposite the crowd that +surrounded Diggory. A dark blind was pulled down inside, because it was +Wednesday and early-closing day. This made a fine mirror, and Diggory +happened to look in it, and there he saw himself—an old, old +white-haired man on a white horse. He had a white beard, too, but it was +quite short, because it had only had since bedtime last night to grow +in.</p> + +<p>He almost tumbled off his horse. The landlord of the Ship led him in +to sit by the fire in the bar parlour, and the eight horses were put up +in the stable.</p> + +<p>The old man who had told him about the mill came and sat by him, and +poor old Diggory asked questions till he grew tired of hearing the +answer, which was always the same: 'Dead, dead, dead!'</p> + +<p>Then he sat silent, and the people in the bar talked about his horses, +and a young man said:</p> + +<p>'I wish I'd got e'er a one on 'em. I'd do a tidy bit in fish, an' set up +for myself—so I would.'</p> + +<p>'Young man,' said Diggory, 'you may take one of them; its name is +Invicta.'</p> + +<p>The young man could hardly believe his for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span>tunate ears. Diggory felt his +heart warm to think that he had made someone else so happy. He felt +actually younger. And next morning he made up his mind to give away all +the horses but one. That one he would sell, and its price would keep him +for the rest of his life: he hoped that would not be long, for he did +not care to go on living now that he had seen the tombstones in the +churchyard with the names of his father and brothers and little Joyce of +the mill.</p> + +<p>He led his horses away next day. He did not want to give them all away +in one village, because that would have lessened the value of his gift +to the young man who was going into fish, and, besides, it would have +been awkward to have so many horses of the same name in one village.</p> + +<p>He gave away a horse at each village he passed through, and with every +horse he gave away he felt happier and lighter. And when he had given +away the fourth his rheumatism went, and when he had given away the +seventh his beard was gone.</p> + +<p>'Now,' he said to himself, 'I will ride home and end my days in my own +village, and be buried with my own people.'</p> + +<p>So he turned his horse's head towards home,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> and he felt so gay and +light-limbed he could hardly believe that he was really an old, old man. +And he rode on.</p> + +<p>And at the end of the village he stopped and rubbed his eyes, for there +stood the Round Mound windmill, and on the slope was Joyce, looking +prettier than ever in a russet petticoat and a white neckerchief and a +pink print gown with little red rosebuds on it.</p> + +<p>'Oh, Diggory, Diggory,' she cried, 'you've come back, then! You'll take +me with you now, won't you?'</p> + +<p>'Have you got a looking-glass, my dear?' said he. 'Then run in and fetch +it.'</p> + +<p>She ran. He took it and looked in it. And he saw the same young brown +face and the same bright brown hair that he had always known for <i>him</i>, +and he was not old any more. And there was Joyce holding up a face as +sweet as a bunch of flowers.</p> + +<p>'Will you take me?' said she.</p> + +<p>He stooped down and kissed the face that was so sweet.</p> + +<p>'I'll take you,' said he.</p> + +<p>And as they went along to his home he told her all the story.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Well, but,' she said, 'you've got one wish-apple left.'</p> + +<p>'Why, so I have,' said he; 'if I hadn't forgotten it!'</p> + +<p>'We'll make that into the fortune you went out to find. Do, do let me +look at it!'</p> + +<p>He pulled out the apple, and she took it in her hand as she sat behind +him on the big white horse.</p> + +<p>'Yes, our fortune's made,' he said; 'but I do wish I knew why I turned +old like that.'</p> + +<p>Just then Invicta stumbled, and Joyce caught at her lover to save +herself from falling, and as she caught at him the apple slipped from +her hand and the last wish was granted. For as it bounced on the road +Diggory did know why he had grown old like that. He knew that the +magician had arranged long before that every wish-apple that was used +outside the orchard should add ten years to the wisher's age. So that +the eight horses had made him a hundred years old, and the spell could +only be undone by the wisher's giving away what he'd wished for. So that +it was Diggory's generosity in giving away the horses that had taken him +back to the proper age for being happy in. I don't want to be moral, and +I'm very sorry—but it really was that.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span></p> + +<p>He carried Joyce home to his father's house. They were much too pleased +with each other to bother about the wasted wish-apples.</p> + +<p>'You're soon back, my son,' said the woodcutter, laughing.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Diggory.</p> + +<p>'Have you found your fortune?'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Diggory; 'here she is!'</p> + +<p>And he presented Joyce. The woodcutter laughed more than ever, for the +miller's daughter was a bit of an heiress.</p> + +<p>'Well, well!' he said.</p> + +<p>So they were married, and they had a little farm, and the white horse +was put to the plough, and to the cart, and the harrow, and the waggon; +and he worked hard, and they worked hard, so that they all throve and +were very happy as long as ever they lived.</p> + +<p>Said Joyce one day to Diggory, 'How was it you wanted to take me with +you directly you came back, and when you were going away you didn't.'</p> + +<p>'I've often wondered about that myself,' he said; 'I think it must have +been the bread-and-milk. You see, it was one of the wish-apple things, +just like the horses were, only they were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> outside things, so they made +me old outside; but the bread-and milk——'</p> + +<p>'Was an inside thing, of course—quite inside.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, so it made me old inside of my mind, just old enough to have the +sense to see that <i>you</i> were all the fortune I wanted, and more than I +deserved.'</p> + +<p>'I didn't have to be so very old to know what fortune <i>I</i> wanted,' said +Joyce, 'but, then, I was a girl. Boys are always much stupider than +girls, aren't they?'</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The only person in this story you are likely to have heard of is, of +course, Invicta, and he is better known as the White Horse of Kent.</p> + +<p>You can see pictures of him all over his county: on brewers circulars +and all sorts of documents, and carved in stone on buildings, and even +on the disagreeable, insulting fronts of traction-engines. +Traction-engines pretend to despise horses, but they carry the image of +the White Horse on their hearts. And his name is generally put +underneath his picture, so that there shall be no mistake.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="SIR_CHRISTOPHER_COCKLESHELL" id="SIR_CHRISTOPHER_COCKLESHELL"></a>SIR CHRISTOPHER COCKLESHELL</h2> + + +<p>The children called him Sir Christopher Cockleshell.—'Sir,' in token of +respect for his gray hairs and noble-looking face; Christopher, because +he had once carried Mabel across the road on a very muddy day, when +thunder showers and the parish water-carts had both been particularly +busy; and Cockleshell, because of the house he lived in.</p> + +<p>It was a most wonderful house—like the gateway of an old castle. It had +a big arch in the middle and a window over the arch, and there were +windows, too, in the towers on each side of the arch. All along the top +were in-and-out battlements. It had been covered with white plaster +once, but flakes of this had fallen away and showed the pinky bricks +underneath. But the oddest thing about the house was the trimming that +ran all round the bottom story about the height of a tall man. This +trimming was of oyster-shells, and cockle-shells, and mussel-shells,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> +and whelk-shells, and scallop-shells, all stuck on the wall of the house +in patterns. It was a very wonderful house indeed, and the children +always tried to go past it on their way to everywhere.</p> + +<p>The children themselves lived in a large, square, ordinary brown-brick +house among other ordinary brown-brick houses. Their house had a long +garden with tall old trees in it, and so had the other houses. Looking +out of the boxroom window was like looking down on the top of a green +forest, Phyllis always thought. Only now, of course, the trees were not +green any more, because it was nearly Christmas.</p> + +<p>'I wish Sir Christopher had a garden to his house,' Phyllis said one day +to the new housemaid.</p> + +<p>'There used to be a pleasure-gardens there, I've heard father tell,' +said the new housemaid. 'Quite a big gardens, it was. The gent as owned +it was as rich as rich, kep' his carriage and butlers and all. But when +his son come into the property he sold the gardens for building on, and +only kep' the gate-house—the Grotto they calls it. An' there 'e's lived +ever since in quite a poor way. Nasty old miser, that's what he is!'</p> + +<p>'He may be a miser,' said Phyllis, 'but he's not nasty. He carried Mabel +as kind as could be.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Have you ever spoke to him since?' demanded the housemaid.</p> + +<p>'No,' said Phyllis; 'he always smiles at us, but he's always in a +hurry.'</p> + +<p>'That's it,' said the housemaid; ''e's afraid to let anyone inside of +his house, fear they should get to see all the sacks of money he's got +there. And he pokes about and picks things outer the gutters, so he +won't get to know anyone. My young brother he knocked at the door once +to arst for a drink of water—thought he'd get a squint at the inside of +the house while the old chap was gone to draw it. But he shuts the door +in Elf's face, and only opens it a crack to hand him the mug through.'</p> + +<p>'It was kind of him to give your brother the water,' said Phyllis.</p> + +<p>'Elf didun want the water,' said Alf's sister; ''e'd just 'ad a lemonade +at the paper shop.'</p> + +<p>Phyllis had often wanted to do something kind for Sir Christopher, but +she could not think of anything that wasn't just as likely to annoy him +as to please him. If she had known when his birthday was, she would have +put a birthday card under his door; but no one can be pleased at having +a card with 'Bright be thy natal morn'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> on it when really the natal morn +is quite a different date. She would have taken him flowers at the time +when dahlias and sunflowers grew at the end of the garden, but perhaps +he would not like the bother of putting them in water; and, if he was +really poor, and not a miser, as Jane said, he might not have a vase or +jug to put them in.</p> + +<p>And now it was Christmas-time. Guy was home for the holidays, and that +was splendid. But, on the other hand, mother and father had had to go to +granny, who was ill. So there would be no real Christmas in the brown +house.</p> + +<p>'But I'll tell you what,' said Phyllis; 'there's the Christmas-tree for +the poor children at the schools. Suppose we were to make some things +for that, and buy some, and go down and help decorate? Mother said we +might.'</p> + +<p>Guy was rather clever with his fingers, and as we all like doing what we +can do really well, he did not make such a fuss over making things as +some boys do. He could make doll's furniture out of pins and wool, and +armchairs out of the breast-bones of geese; only there are so seldom +enough breast-bones of geese to make a complete set of furniture.</p> + +<p>There was nearly a week to make things in,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> and long before its end the +schoolroom began to look like a bazaar. There were little boxes of +sweets covered with silver paper, and scrapbooks made of postcards +covered with red calico, and some little dolls that the girls dressed, +as well as all the things that Guy made.</p> + +<p>'How ravishingly beautiful!' said Mabel, when the shiny, shimmery, real +Christmas-tree things bought at the shop were spread out with the +others.</p> + +<p>The day before Christmas Eve the children were very happy indeed, +although they had had to be made thoroughly tidy before Jane would allow +them to go down to the school; and being thoroughly tidy, as you know, +often means a lot of soap in your eyes, and having your nails cleaned by +someone who does not know as well as you do where the nail leaves off +and the real you begins.</p> + +<p>They went to the side-door of the school, and left the baskets and +bundles of pretty things in the porch and went in.</p> + +<p>The big tree was there, but it was just plain fir-tree so far, nothing +Christmassy about it, except that it was planted in a tub.</p> + +<p>'How do you do?' said Guy politely to the stout lady in a bonnet with +black beads and a violet feather; 'I'm so glad we're in time.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span></p> + +<p>'What for?' said the stout lady. 'The tree's not till to-morrow. Run +away, little boy.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, Mrs. Philkins,' said Phyllis, 'he's not a little boy, he's Guy; +don't you remember him?'</p> + +<p>'I remember him in petticoats,' said Mrs. Philkins: 'he's grown. +Good-afternoon.'</p> + +<p>'Mother said,' said Guy, keeping his temper beautifully, 'that we might +come and help.'</p> + +<p>'Very kind of your mother to arrange it like that. But <i>I</i> happen to be +in charge of the tree, and I don't want any outside assistance.'</p> + +<p>The children turned away without a word. When they got outside Guy said:</p> + +<p>'I hate Mrs. Philkins!'</p> + +<p>'We oughtn't to hate anybody,' said Mabel.</p> + +<p>'She isn't anybody—at least, not anybody in particular,' said Phyllis; +'I heard father say so.'</p> + +<p>'She wouldn't have been such a pig to us if she'd known what we'd +brought for the tree,' said Phyllis.</p> + +<p>'I'm glad she didn't know. I wish we hadn't done the things at all,' +said Guy; 'it's always the way if you try to do good to others.'</p> + +<p>'It <i>isn't</i>,' said the others indignantly; 'you know it isn't.'</p> + +<p>'That's right!' said Guy aggravatingly, 'let's begin to quarrel about +it—<i>us</i>—that would just<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> please her. Let's drop the whole lot into the +canal, and say no more about it.'</p> + +<p>'Oh <i>no</i>!' cried both the girls together, clutching the precious parcels +they carried.</p> + +<p>'But what's the good?' said Guy; 'we don't know anyone who's got a +Christmas-tree to give them to.'</p> + +<p>Phyllis stopped short on the pavement, struck motionless by an idea.</p> + +<p>'I know,' she said: 'we'll have a tree of our very own.'</p> + +<p>'What's the good if there's no one to see it?'</p> + +<p>'We'll ask someone to see it.'</p> + +<p>'Who?'</p> + +<p>'Sir Christopher!'</p> + +<p>The daring and romance of this idea charmed even Guy. But he thought it +would be better not to ask Sir Christopher to come to their house: +'Servants are so odd,' he said; 'they might be rude to him, or +something. No; we'll get it ready, and we'll wheel it round after dark, +and ask him to let us light it in his yard. Then he won't think we're +trying to pry into his house.'</p> + +<p>Half an hour later Guy staggered in, bearing a fir-tree.</p> + +<p>'Only ninepence,' he said; 'it's a bit lop-sided,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> but we can tie ivy on +or something to make that right. I'm glad that old cat wouldn't let us +help. It's much jollier like this.'</p> + +<p>The tree was planted in a pot that a dead azalea had lived in; and Mrs. +Philkins was quite forgotten in the joy of trimming their own tree. +Besides the things they had made there were the lovely things they had +bought—stars and flags, and a sugar bird-cage with a yellow bird in it, +and a glass boat with glass sails, and a blue china bird with a tail of +spun glass.</p> + +<p>Guy went out and borrowed a wheelbarrow from the gardener who +cut their grass when it was cut, and when the tree was trimmed he and +Phyllis carried it downstairs. The top branch with the star on it got +banged against the banisters, and the side branch got into Guy's eye, +and Phyllis's thumb got jammed between the pot and the banister rail. +But what are trifles like these in an adventure like this?</p> + +<p>They got the tree out of the front-door without being seen by the +servants—a real triumph. They stood the pot in the barrow, and started +to wheel it out of the front-gate. But directly they lifted the handles +of the barrow the floor of it naturally ceased to be straight, and the +flower-pot toppled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> over and cracked itself slightly against the side of +the barrow, while the boughs of the tree, with their gay decorations, +took the opportunity to entangle themselves in the bad-tempered leaves +of the holly that stood there, and were disengaged with difficulty.</p> + +<p>Then the pot refused to stand up, and at last it had to be laid down in +the barrow, with its shiny treasures dangling over the front-wheel.</p> + +<p>Then, the barrow was extremely heavy even without the tree in it; and +the children did not go the nearest way to the Grotto, because they did +not want to meet people, so they were thoroughly tired and extremely hot +by the time they approached Sir Christopher Cockleshell's castle.</p> + +<p>There was a bit of waste land close to it, where someone had once begun +to build a house and had then thought better of it. A bit of this +house's wall was standing on each side of the space where its front-door +would have been if it had ever come to the point of having one. They +wheeled the barrow in, and the light of a street lamp that obligingly +shone through the door-space made it possible for them to disentangle +the little strings that had got twisted round each other, to disengage +the gilt fish from the sugar bird-cage, and to take<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> the glass bird out +of the goose-bone armchair in which it was trying to sit. Also they set +up all the candles—six dozen of them. This is done with tin-tacks, as +no doubt you know.</p> + +<p>'Now,' said Guy, 'one of us must go and ask if he'll let us light it in +his yard, and one of us must wait here with the tree.'</p> + +<p>'What about me?' said Mabel.</p> + +<p>'You can do which you like,' said Guy.</p> + +<p>'I want to do both,' said Mabel; 'I want to stay with the pretty tree, +<i>and</i> I want to go and ask him if he wants us.'</p> + +<p>Mabel was still too small to understand thoroughly how hard it is, even +for a grown-up person, to be in two places at once.</p> + +<p>It ended in Guy's staying with the tree.</p> + +<p>'In case of attacks by boys,' he said.</p> + +<p>'Then I shall go with Phyllis,' said Mabel.</p> + +<p>Both girls felt their hearts go quite pitter-pattery when at last they +stood on the doorstep of the castle.</p> + +<p>'Why don't you knock?' Mabel asked.</p> + +<p>'I don't like to,' said Phyllis.</p> + +<p>Mabel instantly knocked very loudly with a wooden ninepin-ball that she +happened to have in her pocket.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Oh, I <i>wish</i> you hadn't!' said Phyllis; 'I wanted to think what to say +first, and now there's no time.'</p> + +<p>There certainly was not. The door opened a cautious inch, and a voice +said:</p> + +<p>'Who's there?'</p> + +<p>'It's us,' said Phyllis, 'please. We don't want to pry into your +beautiful house like Jane's brother Alf when he asked you for the drink +of water, only we've made up a Christmas-tree, and may we stand it in +your yard and light it—the candles, I mean?'</p> + +<p>The door opened a little further, and a face looked out—the face, of +course, of Sir Christopher. All the house that showed through the crack +of the door didn't, as Mabel said afterwards, show at all, because it +was pitch-dark.</p> + +<p>'I don't quite understand,' said Sir Christopher gently. Phyllis was a +little surprised to find that the voice was what she called a +gentleman's voice.</p> + +<p>'We—you were so kind carrying Mab across the road that water-carty day +when it thundered——'</p> + +<p>'Oh, it's you, is it?' he said.</p> + +<p>'Yes, it's us; and they wouldn't let us help with the school tree, and +so we made one of our own<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> and then we wanted someone to see it. And we +thought of you, because you don't seem to have many friends, and we +thought—— But we'll take it home again if you don't care about it.'</p> + +<p>She stopped, just on the right side of tears.</p> + +<p>'There's a glass bird with a spun-lovely tail,' said Mabel persuasively, +'and sweets and fishes, and a crocodile that goes waggle-waddle when you +wind him up.'</p> + +<p>'My dears,' said Sir Christopher, and cleared his throat. 'My dears,' he +began again, and again he stopped.</p> + +<p>'We'll go away if—if you'd rather,' said Phyllis, and sniffed +miserably.</p> + +<p>'No, no!' he said; 'no, no—I was only thinking. I never thought—would +you like to bring the tree into the house? It's just the sort of thing +my little girl always liked.'</p> + +<p>'Oh yes,' said Phyllis; 'we'll go and fetch it now.'</p> + +<p>He closed the door gently. The children flew back to Guy and the tree.</p> + +<p>'Oh, Guy! we've to take the tree inside the house! And he's got a little +girl—at least, he says so. Come on, quick. We'd better carry it. The +barrow's so heavy, and it does interfere so!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span></p> + +<p>They carried the pot between them. It was very heavy, and they had to +put it down and rest several times. But at last they dumped it down in +the dark on the front-door step of the castle, and breathed deep breaths +of fatigue, relief, and excitement.</p> + +<p>The door opened, and opened wide, and this time light streamed from +within.</p> + +<p>'Welcome!' said Sir Christopher. 'Come in. Let me help to lift it. What +a beautiful tree!'</p> + +<p>'It is rather decent, isn't it?' said Guy dispassionately.</p> + +<p>Sir Christopher raised the pot, carried it in, and the door was shut. +The children found themselves in a small square hall. A winding +staircase of iron corkscrewed upwards in one corner. The hall was +lighted only by two candles.</p> + +<p>The old gentleman led the way through a door on the right into a round +room with white walls.</p> + +<p>'We're inside the tower now,' said Guy.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said their host, 'this is part of the tower.'</p> + +<p>He hastily lighted a big lamp, and then a deep 'Oh!' broke from the +children. For the walls were not white, they were all of +mother-of-pearl, and here and there all over the walls round pearls +shone with a starry, milky radiance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span></p> + +<p>'How radishing!' said Mabel in a whisper. 'I always said he wasn't a +miser. He's a magician.'</p> + +<p>'What a lovely, lovely room!' sighed Phyllis.</p> + +<p>'What's it made of?' asked Guy downrightly.</p> + +<p>'Oyster-shells,' said Sir Christopher, 'and pearl beads.'</p> + +<p>And it was.</p> + +<p>'Oh!' said Mabel gaily, 'then that's what you go prowling about in dirty +gutters for?'</p> + +<p>'Don't be rude, Mab dear!' whispered Phyllis.</p> + +<p>But the old gentleman did not seem to mind. He just said, 'Yes, that's +it,' in an absent sort of way. He seemed to be thinking about something +else. Then he said, 'The Christmas-tree.'</p> + +<p>The children had forgotten all about the Christmas-tree.</p> + +<p>When its seventy-two candles were lighted the pearly room shone and +glimmered like a fairy palace in a dream.</p> + +<p>'It's many a year since my little girl had such a Christmas-tree,' he +said. 'I don't know how to thank you.'</p> + +<p>'Seeing your pearly halls is worth all the time and money,' said Mabel +heartily.</p> + +<p>And Phyllis added in polite haste:</p> + +<p>'And you being pleased.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Would you like to see the black marble hall?' asked Sir Christopher.</p> + +<p>And, of course, they said, 'Yes, awfully.'</p> + +<p>So he led them into the room on the other side of the hall, and lighted +a lamp. And the room was like a room of black marble, carved into little +round knobs.</p> + +<p>'How lovely!' said Phyllis.</p> + +<p>'It's not lovely like the other,' said Mabel; 'but it's more serious, +like when the organ plays in church.'</p> + +<p>'Why,' said Guy suddenly, 'it's winkle-shells!'</p> + +<p>And it was. Hundreds and thousands of winkle-shells sorted into sizes +and stuck on the walls in patterns, and then, it seemed, polished or +varnished.</p> + +<p>'Come,' said Sir Christopher, 'I'll show you the red-room.'</p> + +<p>As they turned to go a tall, white figure by the door seemed to come +suddenly into the lamplight. It was covered with a sheet.</p> + +<p>'Oh!' said all three, starting back, 'what's that?'</p> + +<p>'That's my little girl,' he said.</p> + +<p>'Is she trying to frighten us? Is she playing ghosts?' asked Guy.</p> + +<p>'No,' he said; 'she never plays at ghosts. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> isn't her really. That's +only my fun. It's a statue really.'</p> + +<p>'Aren't statues very dear?' asked Guy.</p> + +<p>'Very,' said Sir Christopher—'very, very dear.'</p> + +<p>He led the way up the winding iron stair and showed them the red-room. +Its walls were covered with bits of red lobster-shells, overlapping like +a fish's scales or the plates of armour.</p> + +<p>'How resplendid!' said Mabel; 'I believe you're a mighty magician.'</p> + +<p>'No,' he said; 'at least—no, not exactly. There's only one more room.'</p> + +<p>The other room was a bedroom, quite dull and plain, with whitewashed +walls and painted deal furniture.</p> + +<p>'I like the pearly halls best,' said Mabel: 'they're more eloquent;' and +they all went down to the room where the seventy-two candles of the +Christmas-tree were burning steadily and brightly, though there was no +one to see them.</p> + +<p>'Won't you call your little girl?' said Phyllis. 'The candles won't last +so very long; they're the cheap kind.'</p> + +<p>Sir Christopher twisted his fingers together.</p> + +<p>'It's no use calling her,'he said. 'Would you mind—do you mind leaving +the tree for to-night?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> You could fetch it to-morrow. And you won't tell +anyone about the inside of my house, will you? They'd only laugh at it.'</p> + +<p>'I don't see how they could,' said Mabel indignantly; 'it's the +beautifullest, gorgerest house that ever was.'</p> + +<p>'But we won't tell anyone,' said Guy. 'And we'll come again +to-morrow—about the same time.'</p> + +<p>Sir Christopher said, 'Yes, please.'</p> + +<p>And they all shook hands with him and came away, leaving the +Christmas-tree, with all its seventy-two candles, still making the +pearly room a dream of fairy beauty.</p> + +<p>They ran all the way home, because it was rather late, and they did not +want the servants to fetch them from the parish schoolroom, where they +had not spent the evening. It would have been very difficult to explain +exactly where and how they <i>had</i> spent it, and the fact that they had +promised not to say anything about it would have added considerably to +the difficulty.</p> + +<p>When they had been let in, and had taken off their hats and jackets and +got their breaths, they looked at each other.</p> + +<p>'Well?' said Phyllis.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Mabel; 'what an inciting adventure!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> What a dear he is! I do +hope we shall see his little girl to-morrow.'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Guy slowly, 'but I don't think we shall.'</p> + +<p>'Why ever not?'</p> + +<p>'Because I don't believe he's got any little girl. We went into all the +rooms, and the hall and landing. There wasn't any other room for the +little girl to be in.'</p> + +<p>'Perhaps it was really her under the sheet, trying to be ghosts,' said +Phyllis.</p> + +<p>'It was too high up,' said Mabel.</p> + +<p>'She might have been standing on a stool,' said Phyllis.</p> + +<p>'Well,' said Guy, with a satisfied look; 'it's a very thrilling +mystery.'</p> + +<p>It was. And it gave them something to think of for the next few days. +For that evening when they went to fetch the Christmas-tree, they found +the door of Sir Christopher's castle tight shut, and their +Christmas-tree was standing alone on the doorstep in the dark.</p> + +<p>After vainly knocking several times, they put the tree into the +wheelbarrow and got it home, only upsetting it three times by the way.</p> + +<p>When they got it into the light of their school<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span>room they saw that there +was a piece of paper on it—a note.</p> + +<p>'My dears,' it said, 'here is your beautiful tree. Thank you very much. +If you knew how much pleasure it had given me you would be glad. Why not +give the tree to some poor child? Good-bye. God bless you!'</p> + +<p>There were some letters tangled together at the bottom of the page.</p> + +<p>'His initials, I suppose,' said Guy. But nobody could read them.</p> + +<p>'Anyway, it means he doesn't want to see us any more,' said Phyllis. +'Oh, I do wish we knew something more about him.'</p> + +<p>But they took his advice, and the tree went to the gardener's little +boy, who was ill. It made him almost forget his illness for days and +days.</p> + +<p>When father came home they asked him who lived in the Grotto. He told +them.</p> + +<p>'He has lived there for years,' he said. 'I have heard that when he came +into his property he found that his property was almost all debts. So he +sold the tea-gardens for building on, and has lived there in the Grotto +on next to nothing, and all these years he's been paying off his +father's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> creditors. I should think they're about paid off by now.'</p> + +<p>'Has he a little girl?' asked Phyllis.</p> + +<p>'Yes—I believe so,' said father absently.</p> + +<p>'It's very odd,' Mabel was beginning, but the others silenced her.</p> + +<p>After this the children were more interested than ever in Sir +Christopher. They used to paint illuminated texts, and make +picture-frames of paper rosettes, and buy toys, and leave them on his +doorstep in the dark, 'For the little girl,' and as the spring came +on, bunches of flowers.</p> + +<p>It was one evening when Phyllis came to the castle with a big bunch of +plumy purple lilac. She was earlier than usual, and it was not quite +dark, and—wonder of wonders—the door of the castle was open. Still +more wonderful, Sir Christopher stood on the doorstep.</p> + +<p>'I was watching for you,' he said. 'I had a sort of feeling you'd come +to-night. Will you come in?'</p> + +<p>He led her into the black marble room and stood looking wistfully at +her.</p> + +<p>'Would you like to see my little girl?' he said suddenly.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Phyllis.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I didn't think you'd understand,' he said, 'when you came at Christmas. +But you've been so kind and faithful all these months. I think you will +understand. Look!'</p> + +<p>He pulled the sheet from the statue, and Phyllis looked on the white +likeness of a little girl of her own age, dressed in a long gown like a +nightgown.</p> + +<p>'It is very beautiful,' she said.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' he said. 'Have you ever heard any tales about me?' he asked.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Phyllis, and told him.</p> + +<p>'It's not true,' he said. My father had no debts. But I married someone +he didn't like; and then I got ill, and couldn't work. My father was +very hard. He wouldn't help us. My wife died, and then my father died, +and all his great wealth came to me. Too late! too late! The letter that +told me I was rich came to me when I was sitting beside my dead child. +The money came <i>then</i>—the money that would have saved her. The first +money I spent out of it all was spent on that statue. It was done as she +lay dead.'</p> + +<p>Phyllis looked at the statue, and felt—she didn't know why—very +frightened. Then she looked at him, and she was not frightened any more. +She ran to him and put her arms round him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Oh, poor, poor, dear Sir Christopher!' she said.</p> + +<p>'That's how she looked when she was dead,' he said; 'would you like to +see my ladybird as she was when she was alive and well, and I was a +strong man able to work for her?'</p> + +<p>'Yes—oh yes,' said Phyllis.</p> + +<p>He led the way into the pearly room, and drew back a green curtain that +hung there. Phyllis caught her breath sharply, and tears pricked her +eyes. Not because the picture was a sad one—ah, no! not that!</p> + +<p>As the curtain was withdrawn the figure of a child seemed to spring +towards them from the canvas—a happy, laughing child, her arms full of +roses, her face full of health and beauty and the joy of life; a child +whose glad, unclouded eyes met Phyllis's in a free, joyous look.</p> + +<p>'Oh no!' cried Phyllis; 'she can't be dead—she <i>can't</i>!'</p> + +<p>The old man took her in his arms, for she was crying bitterly.</p> + +<p>'Thank you—thank you, dear,' he said, soothing her. 'Now I know that +you are the right person to help me.'</p> + +<p>'I? Help <i>you</i>?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span></p> + +<p>Phyllis's tears began to dry at the beautiful thought, but she still +sobbed.</p> + +<p>'Don't cry,' he said, and gently drew the green curtain over the lovely +laughing face. 'Don't cry. I want to tell you of many things. When that +money came—I've told you when—as soon as I could see or think again, I +saw what I ought to do. Ever since I've not spent a penny of that money +on myself—on anything but the plainest food, the plainest clothes. If +I've made the house beautiful for her picture to live in, it's been with +my own work. All the rest of the money has gone to help little girls +whose fathers can't work for them—little girls that can be saved, as my +little girl could have been saved. That's the work I want you to carry +on for me when you grow up. Will you promise?'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Phyllis; 'only I'm very stupid.'</p> + +<p>'I will have you taught. You shall learn how to do my work. Ask your +father to come and see me. And now, good-bye. Perhaps I shan't see you +again. Will you always remember that your Christmas-tree came to me like +a light in a dark night to show me that there was someone still who +cared to be kind.... Good-bye.'</p> + +<p>Father, when he heard the story, almost thought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> that Phyllis was +dreaming. But he went to the Grotto, and when he came back his face was +very sad.</p> + +<p>'It is a very great honour for you, Phyllis,' he said gravely. 'Are you +sure that you understand how much hard work it will mean?'</p> + +<p>'I don't mind hard work,' said Phyllis, 'if only I can do what he +wants.'</p> + +<p>So Phyllis is learning many things and preparing for the great work that +has so wonderfully come to her. I think she will do it well, because she +is not at all stupid really, and she has the gift of being sorry for sad +people, and happy with happy ones. I think Sir Christopher chose well.</p> + +<p>Some distant relations of Sir Christopher's have tried to make out that +he was mad, and so couldn't do what he liked with his money. But when +they took the matter to the judges to decide, hundreds and hundreds of +people he had been good to and helped broke the promise of secrecy that +he had always asked of them. And all England rang with the tale of his +goodness, and of all the kind and clever things he had done for poor +children all those long years, for the sake of his own little child. And +the judges decided he was quite right to use his money in that way, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> +not mad at all. So the tiresome relations got nothing but lawyers' bills +for their pains.</p> + +<p>Phyllis only saw Sir Christopher once again. He sent for her when he was +dying. They had moved his bed into the pearly room, and he lay facing +the green curtain.</p> + +<p>'If it seems too hard when the time comes,' he said, 'you need not do +the work. Your father knows how to arrange that.'</p> + +<p>'You needn't be afraid,' said Phyllis; 'it's the most splendid chance +anyone ever had.'</p> + +<p>'Kiss me, dear,' he said, 'and then draw back the curtain.'</p> + +<p>But before Phyllis's hand had touched the green curtain he sat up in the +bed and held out his arms towards the picture.</p> + +<p>'Why, ladybird!' he cried, his face all alight with love and joy. 'Why, +my little girl!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="MUSCADEL" id="MUSCADEL"></a>MUSCADEL</h2> + + +<p>Of course, there was a grand party when Princess Pandora came of age. +The palace was hung with garlands of white roses, all the carpets were +taken up, and the floor of every room was covered close with green turf +with daisies in it, for in that country the cruel practice of rooting +daisies out of lawns with a spud was a crime.</p> + +<p>The Queen-mother had died when Pandora was a little baby, so now the +Princess had to be hostess, and to receive all the guests, and speak to +each one a little, and see that everyone had enough to eat and the right +sort of person to talk to.</p> + +<p>She did it all very nicely indeed, for she was a properly brought up +Princess and had been to a school for the daughters of monarchs only, +where, every Wednesday evening, she and her school-fellows were taught +'deportment, manners, and how to behave at Court.'</p> + +<p>All the guests went away very pleased with her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> and with themselves, +which is how people ought always to feel after a party.</p> + +<p>When they had all gone she went and curled up at the feet of her father, +who had sunk back on his throne exhausted by his hospitable exertions. +The two were quite alone, except for a particularly fine house-fly who +had settled on the back of the throne, just above the carved Royal arms. +Of course, neither the King nor the Princess noticed such a little thing +as a fly.</p> + +<p>'Well, daddy dear,' said the Princess, 'did it go off all right? Did I +behave prettily?'</p> + +<p>'Ah!' said the King, 'you're a born Princess, my pet. Pretty face, +pretty manners, good heart, good head. You're your dear mother over +again. And that reminds me——'</p> + +<p>'Yes?' said the Princess.</p> + +<p>'When your mother died,' said the King—and he sighed, though it was +twenty-one years to a day since he had lost his Queen-love—'I promised +her to lock up her apartments, and only to give the keys of them to you +when you should be twenty-one. And now you <i>are</i>, so here are the keys, +my precious. You've always wanted to explore the rooms in the south +wing. Well, now you can.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span></p> + +<p>'How lovely!' cried the Princess, jumping up; 'won't you come too, +daddy?'</p> + +<p>'I'd rather not, dear,' said the King, so sadly that Pandora at once +said:</p> + +<p>'Well, then, <i>I</i> won't either. I'll stay with you.'</p> + +<p>But the King said 'No,' and she had better take a housemaid or two with +brooms and dusters. 'The dust grows thick in twenty-one years,' said +he. </p> + +<p>But the Princess didn't want any of the palace housemaids to help her to +explore her mother's rooms. She went alone, holding up her +cloth-of-silver train because of the dust.</p> + +<p>And the rooms that she unlocked with the six gold keys with pearls in +their handles were very dusty indeed. The windows were yellow with dust, +so the Princess threw them all open. And then, even through the dust, +she could see how beautiful the rooms were—far more beautiful even than +her own—and everyone had always said that hers were the most beautiful +rooms in the seven kingdoms. She dusted the tops of a few of the tables +and cabinets with her lace handkerchief, so that she could just see how +everything was inlaid with ivory and jade and ebony and precious stones.</p> + +<p>Six of the keys—the pearly ones—opened six<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> beautiful rooms, but the +seventh had rubies in its handle, and it was a little, little key, not +at all like a door-key; so Pandora looked about for a little keyhole +that the key would fit, and at last she found a cabinet of ebony inlaid +with gold and red tortoiseshell, and the little seventh key just fitted +through the opening of the gold lock-plate and into the keyhole. Pandora +turned the key and opened the cabinet. Inside the cabinet were seven +little drawers with gold handles set with rubies, like the key.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 373px;"> +<img src="images/gs19.jpg" width="373" height="600" alt="'In the drawer was just one jewelled ring. It lay on a +written page.'—Page 347." title="" /> +<span class="caption">'In the drawer was just one jewelled ring. It lay on a +written page.'—Page 347.</span> +</div> + +<p>Pandora pulled the drawers out one after the other. She was alone, +except for the house-fly, who had followed her and now sat on the top of +the cabinet door, watching her with all his hundreds of eyes. But no one +notices a fly.</p> + +<p>Five of the drawers contained jewels. The first was full of necklaces, +the second held rings and brooches, the third had tiaras and chaplets, +the fourth girdles, and the fifth bracelets, and they were all of the +most beautiful jewels in the world—rubies, sapphires, emeralds, pearls +and diamonds, and opals, and many other stones that the Princess did not +even know the names of.</p> + +<p>In the sixth drawer was a dry brown wreath that fell to pieces as +Pandora lifted it. It had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> been jasmine once, and the Queen had worn +it at her wedding.</p> + + + +<p>And in the seventh drawer was just one jewelled ring. It lay on a +written page.</p> + +<p>The Princess read the writing:</p> + +<p>'This ring is for my son's wife, or for my daughter, if I have no son. +It is the magic ring given thousands of years ago to a Queen of this +country. It has the power of changing the wearer into whatever shapes he +chooses. But it has never been used, because the Kings of this country +have always been so good and kind, and clever and beloved, that their +wives could never think of any change that would not be a change for the +worse. There is only one thing in the world that this jewel cannot touch +or change. And this is of all things in the world the most important +thing.'</p> + +<p>Pandora kissed the written words and slipped the ring on to her finger. +It was a wonderful stone, like a sapphire that had tried to change into +an opal, and stopped halfway.</p> + +<p>There was not a happier Princess living than Pandora. Yet she was not +afraid of change. Girls are like this sometimes, and she was very young +for her age.</p> + +<p>She stood looking at the ring and turning it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> on her finger, and the fly +watched her with all its hundreds of eyes.</p> + +<p>Now, you will, perhaps, have guessed that this fly was not an ordinary +fly, and you are right. But if you think he was an enchanted Prince or +anything of that sort you are wrong. The fly was simply the cleverest +fly of all flies—someone must be the cleverest in any society, you +know—and he was just clever enough to like to be where the Princess +was, and to look at her beauty with all his hundreds of eyes. He was +clever enough to like this and to know that he liked it, but he was not +clever enough to know why.</p> + +<p>So now, as the Princess stood fingering her ring and trying to make her +mind up, he gave an interested buzz, and the Princess jumped.</p> + +<p>'Oh,' she said, 'it's only a horrid fly! But it has wings. It must be +lovely to have wings. I wish I were a fairy no bigger than that fly.'</p> + +<p>And instantly she and her silver-trained gown, and her silver shoes, and +the magic ring, and everything about her, grew suddenly small, till she +was just as big as the fly and no bigger, and that is flower-fairy size. +Silver gauze wings grew out of her shoulders; she felt them unfolding +slowly, like a dragon-fly's wings when he first<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> comes out of that dull +brown coat of his that hasn't any wing-parts.</p> + +<p>She gave a tiny shriek of joyous surprise, and fluttered out through the +open window and down across the marble terraces to the palace +flowergarden. The fly buzzed heavily after her.</p> + +<p>Pandora fluttered among roses and lilies on her bright, light, white +wings, but presently she was tired, because flying is much harder work +than you would think, especially when you have not been brought up to it +from a child. So she looked about for a place to rest in, and saw near +her the cool pink cave of a foxglove flower. She alighted on its lip, +folded her wings, and walked in on her little fairy feet. It was very +pleasant inside the foxglove. The Princess sat down by a drop of dew, +which was quite a pool to the tiny lady, and presently she took off her +rings and laid them on the smooth floor of the pink cave, and began to +dabble her hands in the dew-pool. The fly had settled on the outer edge +of the flower, and watched her with all his hundreds of eyes.</p> + +<p>And now the dreadful thing happened. Pandora, her hands and face wet +with dew, suddenly saw the daylight darken at the entrance of her +foxglove cave. Then a black-winged monster, with hundreds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> and hundreds +of eyes, came quickly towards her on its six legs. Pandora was very +frightened, and squeezed herself close to the back of her cave. The fly +moved on, and quickly picked up the magic ring, now so tiny that it +fitted nicely on to one of its front feet.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;"> +<img src="images/gs20.jpg" width="650" height="545" alt="'A black-winged monster, with hundreds and hundreds of +eyes.'—Page 350" title="" /> +<span class="caption">'A black-winged monster, with hundreds and hundreds of +eyes.'—Page 350</span> +</div> + +<p>Next moment it had backed out of the foxglove, taking the ring with it, +and had flown off, and the Princess was left alone.</p> + +<p>If she cried a little you can hardly blame her. You wait till you find +yourself one million three hundred thousand two hundred and seventy-four +times as small as you usually are, with no means whatever of getting +back to your proper size, then you'll understand how the Princess felt.</p> + +<p>But she was a brave Princess; so she soon stopped crying, spread her +gauzy wings, and flew across the garden and up over the marble terraces +and in at the library window of the palace.</p> + +<p>The King was reading the account of the birthday-party in the evening +paper, and he did not notice the Princess at all till she settled on his +ear. Then he put up his hand to brush her away, for he thought she was a +fly. She dodged his hand and settled again, and shouted 'Papa!' into his +ear as loud as ever she could. And the shout was no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> louder than a +fly's buzzing, but, as it was close to his ear, the King heard it very +distinctly.</p> + + + +<p>'Bless my soul!' said the King, sitting very bolt upright.</p> + +<p>'Don't move, daddy,' said the tiny Princess, 'even if I tickle your ear +with my wings. I found a magic jewel in one of dear mother's cabinets, +and I made it turn me into a fairy, and now a horrid fly has buzzed off +with the jewel, and I can't get back to my right size.'</p> + +<p>'I must be dreaming,' said the King.</p> + +<p>'I wish you were—I mean I wish I was—but it's true. I'll settle on +your hand now, and you'll see.'</p> + +<p>The King looked at the tiny winged thing—flower-fairy size—that +settled on his hand. And he put on his spectacles and looked again. And +then he got a magnifying-glass and looked through that.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' he said, 'it certainly is you! What a thing to happen, and on +your birthday, too! Oh dear! oh dear!'</p> + +<p>'It <i>is</i> rather hard, daddy,' said the poor Princess; 'but you are so +wise and clever, you'll be able to get me back to my right size again.'</p> + +<p>'My dear,' said the King, 'I received a thorough<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> commercial education, +but I never learned magic. In fact, I doubt whether it is still taught +even at Oxford.'</p> + +<p>'Daddy dear,'said the Princess shyly, 'I've read a good many books about +magic—fairy-tales they're called, you know—and——'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said the King, who saw at once what she meant. 'Of course, I +shall do that first thing.'</p> + +<p>And next morning all the newspapers contained an advertisement:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'Wanted, competent Prince to undo magic and restore Princesses to +their right size. None but eldest sons need apply. The usual reward +offered. Apply at the palace.'</p></div> + +<p>'I think <i>that's</i> a mistake, daddy,' said the Princess; 'in the fairy +stories it's always the youngest son who makes everything come right. +And people don't know their fairy history nowadays; they mayn't know +what the reward is.'</p> + +<p>So the next day the advertisement was changed to:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>'Any sons of respectable monarchs may apply. The successful +candidate will receive the Princess's hand in marriage.'</p></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span></p> + +<p>'It's all very well to put that in,' said the Princess to herself, 'but +if I don't like him I shan't marry him. I'll give him all my jewels +instead.'</p> + +<p>But all the Kings' sons in the world had forgotten their magic, if they +ever knew any, and not one single Prince applied at the palace.</p> + +<p>So the Princess had to do the only possible thing—make the best of it. +And she did it bravely.</p> + +<p>Now, when the fly, whose name, by the way, was Muscadel, flew off from +the foxglove-bell with the magic jewel on his feathery foot, he flew +straight to the Princess's boudoir and settled down on his favourite +spot, the corner of the frame of her mirror. And there he sat and +wondered how he could best use the magic jewel. And he thought so hard +that he never noticed a large spider who spun a web right across the +corner where he sat, and when he spread his wings to assist his +meditations by a little exercise he was caught in the web.</p> + +<p>'Aha!' said the spider, smiling greedily.</p> + +<p>'Oh dear! oh dear!' said the fly.</p> + +<p>'How nice you look!' said the spider.</p> + +<p>Then very slowly and carefully she began to move towards him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span></p> + +<p>'What a terrible thing it is to be a fly!' said he. 'I wish I was a +spider.'</p> + +<p>And, of course, instantly he was. He broke the web and scrambled down +the mirror, for he was still horribly frightened of the other spider. He +got out of the window and down into the garden, and hid himself under a +leaf of a burdock, which was there because the gardener was a lazy +fellow and neglected his business.</p> + +<p>But it's an ill wind that blows nobody any good. Before Muscadel had got +his breath after the shock of that dreadful web he saw a slow, +wrinkled-skinned creature, with bright yellow eyes, quite close to him. +It was a toad, and he knew that toads eat spiders.</p> + +<p>'Oh, a spider's life isn't worth living!' he cried; 'I wish I was a +toad.'</p> + +<p>And, of course, he was, for the magic jewel was still on his front foot.</p> + +<p>Now that Muscadel was a toad he felt he should like to find a quiet damp +place to live in, so he crawled to the edge of the basin of the palace +fountain.</p> + +<p>And when he had found a nice damp crack in the marble he squeezed in and +stayed there for some days. But one day, when he went out for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span> a breath +of air and a woodlouse or two, a great beak clattered quite near him, +and startled him so that he nearly jumped out of his toad's skin.</p> + +<p>The person with a beak was a stork, and Muscadel knew what the stork +wanted.</p> + +<p>'Oh, a toad's life is a dog's life,' said Muscadel; 'I wish I was a +stork.'</p> + +<p>So he was a stork, and the magic jewel, grown bigger, was round his +right leg.</p> + +<p>It was fine to be a stork, and he did not envy even the golden eagle +that flew down to drink at the fountain. And when the eagle came within +a yard or two of him he felt so large and brave that he said:</p> + +<p>'Keep to your own side, will you? Where are you shoving to?'</p> + +<p>The golden eagle, whose temper is very short, looked at him with evil +golden eyes, and said:</p> + +<p>'You'll soon see where I am shoving to,' and flew at him.</p> + +<p>Muscadel saw that he had made a mistake that might cost him his life.</p> + +<p>'Oh, what's the good of being a stork?' he said. 'I wish I was an +eagle.'</p> + +<p>And as soon as he was one he flew away, leaving the other eagle with its +beak open in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span> amazement, too much 'struck of a heap,' as he told his +wife afterwards, to follow the new bird and finish off their quarrel in +the air.</p> + +<p>'Oh, how grand it is to be an eagle!' said Muscadel, sailing on +widespread wings; and just as he said it an arrow caught him under the +left wing. It hurt horribly. 'What a powerful thing an arrow is!' he +said. 'Dear me, how it hurts! I wish I was an arrow.'</p> + +<p>So he was one, but he was an arrow in the quiver of a very stupid +bowman, who shot next day at a buzzard and missed it. So the arrow, +which was Muscadel, lodged high in an oak-tree, and the stupid bowman +could not get it down again.</p> + +<p>'I don't like being a slave to a mere bow,' said Muscadel; 'I'll be a +bow myself.'</p> + +<p>But when he was a bow the archer who owned him hurt his bow-back so in +fitting him with a new string that he got very cross, and said:</p> + +<p>'This is worse slavery than the other. I want to be an archer.'</p> + +<p>So he was an archer. And as it happened he was one of the King's +archers. The magic jewel was round his arm like a bracelet, and no one +saw it, for he kept it hidden up his arm under the sleeve of his buff +coat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now that Muscadel was a man, of course, he read the newspapers, and in +them he saw the King's advertisement, which was still appearing every +day.</p> + +<p>'Dear me!' said Muscadel; 'of course the Princess couldn't get back to +her right size when I had taken the magic jewel away. I never thought of +that. Flies are thoughtless little things. And, by the way, taking that +jewel was stealing. Very wrong indeed. But I didn't know that when I was +a fly. So <i>I'm</i> not a thief, and no more was the fly, because he didn't +know any better.'</p> + +<p>That evening he had a little talk with the captain of the King's +archers, and in the morning the captain called on the King very early +and said:</p> + +<p>'Sire, there's a crack-brained chap among my archers who says he can +make the Princess her right size again. Of course, it's all tommy-rot, +your Majesty, if I may be pardoned the expression, but I thought your +Majesty would like to know.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, let him try,' said the King wearily; 'it's something to find +someone who even thinks he can do it.'</p> + +<p>So next day Muscadel, the archer, put on his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span> Sunday clothes and went up +to the palace, and a great, red-faced, burly fellow he was.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 393px;"> +<img src="images/gs21.jpg" width="393" height="600" alt=""On the table stood the dazzling figure of a real +full-sized princess."—Page 359." title="" /> +<span class="caption">"On the table stood the dazzling figure of a real +full-sized princess."—Page 359.</span> +</div> + +<p>The King and all the Court were assembled to see the archer make the +Princess her own size again, though nobody believed he could do it.</p> + +<p>The King was on his throne, and Pandora, still flower-fairy size, was +sitting on one of the carved gold flowers that adorned the throne's +right arm.</p> + +<p>The archer bowed to the King and the Court, and to the Princess, though +he could not see her.</p> + +<p>Then he looked round the crowded throne-room and said:</p> + +<p>'Look here, your Majesty, this will never do.'</p> + +<p>'Eh?' said the King.</p> + +<p>'Magic can't be done in this sort of public way. I must be left alone +with the Princess. No; I can't have anyone bothering round. Not even +you, your Majesty.'</p> + +<p>The King was rather offended, but the Princess got to his ear and +whispered, and then he gave the order for the throne-room to be cleared; +and when that was done, he set the tiny Princess on the table, and went +away himself and shut the door honourably behind him.</p> + + + +<p>Then the archer said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span></p> + + + +<p>'Little Princess, you can be made your right size again if you will do +just what I tell you. Do you promise?'</p> + +<p>The Princess's little voice said, 'Yes.'</p> + +<p>'Well, then,' said the archer, 'I have got the jewel here that the fly +stole from you, and I will lend it to you, and you can wish yourself +Princess-size again, and then you must give me back the jewel.'</p> + +<p>'Why, the jewel was stolen! You've no right to it. I shall call the +guard,' said Pandora angrily.</p> + +<p>'They wouldn't hear you, little Princess, if you did call,' said the +archer; 'but I'll call them for you if you like. Only you promised.'</p> + +<p>'So I did,' said the Princess. 'Well, lend me the jewel.'</p> + +<p>He took it off his arm and laid it upon the table, and as soon as the +Princess touched it, it grew small, small, small, so that she could put +it on her finger. Then she said:</p> + +<p>'I wish I were my right size again!'</p> + +<p>And the archer rubbed his eyes, for there on the table stood the +dazzling figure of a real, full-sized Princess in a cloth-of-silver +gown, and a face more beautiful than the morning.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Oh, how lovely you are!' he said, and gave her his hand to help her +down.</p> + +<p>She jumped lightly from the table and stood before him, laughing with +joy at being her own real right size once more.</p> + +<p>'Oh, thank you! thank you!' she cried; 'I must run and show my father +this very minute.'</p> + +<p>'The jewel?' said the archer.</p> + +<p>'Oh!' said Pandora. 'Well, yes, I did promise, but—well, I'm a Princess +of my word. Here it is.'</p> + +<p>She held it out, but he did not take it.</p> + +<p>'You may keep it for ever and ever, Princess dear,' he said, 'if you +will only marry me.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, I can't!' she cried. 'I'm never going to marry anyone unless I love +him more than all the world.'</p> + +<p>'I feel as if I'd loved you all my lives,' said Muscadel—'all my life, +I mean. Couldn't you wish to love me?'</p> + +<p>'I don't think I want to,' said the Princess doubtfully.</p> + +<p>'Then I must have the jewel. I'll find some way yet of making you love +me, and then you shall have it for ever and ever.'</p> + +<p>'If I loved you,' said she, 'I suppose I shouldn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span> mind your having red +hair, and a red face, and red ears, and red hands, should I?'</p> + +<p>'Not a bit,' said the archer cheerfully.</p> + +<p>She stood there, twisting the magic jewel round and round on her Royal +finger.</p> + +<p>'I suppose it's more important than anything else to love someone?' she +said.</p> + +<p>'Much,' said he.</p> + +<p>'Well, then,' said she, 'but are you the sort of person I ought to +love?'</p> + +<p>'No,' said he, 'I'm not half good enough for you. But then nobody is.'</p> + +<p>'That's nice of you, anyhow,' she said. 'I'll do it. I wish I loved +you!'</p> + +<p>There was a silence. Then Pandora said:</p> + +<p>'Nothing's happened. I don't love you. I feel just the same as usual. +Your hair, and hands, and face, and ears are redder than ever. You'll +excuse my candour, won't you?'</p> + +<p>'Then there's nothing for it but for me to wish not to love you,' said +Muscadel, 'for I really can't bear loving you to this desperate degree +when you don't care a snap of your Royal fingers for me. Lend me the +jewel a moment. You shall have it back. If you don't care for me, I +don't want to care for anything. I'll live and die a red-faced,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span> +red-eared, red-haired, red-handed archer, so I will.'</p> + +<p>The Princess lent him the jewel, and he wished and waited. Then, 'It's +no good,' he said; 'I adore you as much as ever—more, if possible.'</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;"> +<img src="images/gs22.jpg" width="650" height="574" alt="'A blowzy, frowzy dairymaid.' Page 363." title="" /> +<span class="caption">'A blowzy, frowzy dairymaid.' Page 363.</span> +</div> +<p>'Ah, I see,' said the Princess; 'there <i>is</i> one thing that the magic +ring won't touch. I suppose that's love. How funny!'</p> + +<p>'I don't think it's funny at all,' said he. 'I suppose really it's +because you're not the sort of person that could love the sort of person +I am.'</p> + +<p>'Well, then,' said she, 'I'll wish I was the sort of person who <i>could</i>. +I won't be made a silly of by a stupid magic jewel. Only let me call my +father, because goodness knows what sort of person the person who could +love you would be like. <i>I</i> can't imagine anyone who could!'</p> + +<p>'You may be as cruel as you like now,' said Muscadel, 'if only somehow +or other you'll get to love me afterwards. I will call the King.'</p> + +<p>So he went to the door and shouted:</p> + +<p>'Hi, your Majesty! Step this way for a moment, will you, please?'</p> + +<p>And His Majesty stepped.</p> + +<p>'Look here, daddy,' said the Princess, 'I'm real Princess size again, so +give me a kiss!'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span></p> + + + +<p>When this was done she said very quickly, and before the King could stop +her:</p> + +<p>'I wish I was the kind of person that could love this archer.'</p> + +<p>And then and there, before the horrified eyes of the other two, the +Princess turned into the kind of person who could love the archer.</p> + +<p>'Bless my soul and body!' said the King, turning purple.</p> + +<p>'Oh, my heart!' said Muscadel, turning white.</p> + +<p>For the kind of person the Princess had changed into was a blowzy, +frowzy dairymaid, with oily black hair and shining red cheeks, and +little black eyes like the currant eyes in gingerbread pigs. Her hands +were fat and red, and her feet would not bear looking at for a moment.</p> + +<p>'Good old Muscadel!' said the dairymaid that Pandora had turned into; +'now we'll be married and live as happy as two mice in a cheese!'</p> + +<p>'Never in this world!' cried Muscadel, snatching the ring from her hand, +which was not manners, but we must remember that he was very much upset. +He snatched the ring, and he rushed out of the room and out of the +palace, and when he got to the archers' quarters he flung himself face +down among the rushes on the floor, and lay<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span> there till his comrades +began to mock him and even to kick him as he lay; and then he got up and +fought them with his red fists, one down, t'other come on, till seven of +them had owned that they did not want any more.</p> + +<p>'Oh dear! oh dear!' said the King in his palace; 'I'd rather have had +you flower-fairy size for life than like this! We must get back the +jewel and make you into your old self.'</p> + +<p>'Not a bit of it,' said the dairymaid Princess. 'I never was so happy in +my life. I love that lovely archer, and if I'm a Princess you can order +him to marry me, and he'll have to.'</p> + +<p>'Lackaday!' said the King. 'Dairymaids don't seem to love like +Princesses do.'</p> + +<p>'I dare say not,' said she, 'but we know our own minds. I tell you I'm +happy, governor, and I'll stay as I am.'</p> + +<p>The dairymaid Princess called for cold pork and cheese and beer, and, +having had quite enough of all three, she went to bed in the Princess's +green and white bedroom.</p> + +<p>Now, when all the archers had gone to sleep poor Muscadel stole out and +wandered through the palace gardens, and looked at the white fountains +rising and falling in the moonlight.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span> He saw the white lilies sleeping +standing up, just like real live sentinels. He saw the white pea-cocks +roosting in the yew-trees, and the white swans cuddled up among the +reeds by the lake. He went hither and thither through the cold white +beauty of the night, and he thought and thought, but he could not think +any thought that was worth the trouble of thinking.</p> + +<p>And at last he sat down on a marble bench and very nearly wished that he +were dead. Not quite, of course, because people very seldom do that; and +if he had there would have been an end to this story.</p> + +<p>The silence and the moonlight soothed him; his poor brain felt clearer +and brighter, and at last he had the sense to say, without at all +knowing that he was saying anything sensible, 'I wish I was clever.'</p> + +<p>And instantly he was.</p> + +<p>The change was so great, so sudden, and so violent that it nearly choked +him. He drew two or three difficult breaths, and then he said:</p> + +<p>'Oh, I see! How stupid of me! I wish I were the kind of person the real +Princess could love.'</p> + +<p>And he felt his body change. He grew thinner,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span> and his face seemed to +grow a different shape. He hastened to the lake and leaned over it, and +saw by the moonlight the reflection of his own face in the water. It was +not particularly handsome, but he was not ashamed of the deep-set eyes, +largish nose, and firm lips and chin.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 419px;"> +<img src="images/gs23.jpg" width="419" height="600" alt="'"You've got a face as long as a fiddle."'—Page 367." title="" /> +<span class="caption">'"You've got a face as long as a fiddle."'—Page 367.</span> +</div> + +<p>'So that's the sort of man she could love!' he said, and went home to +bed like a sensible person.</p> + +<p>Early in the morning he went out into the palace garden, and it was not +all gray and white, as it had been the night before, with moonlight and +white lilies, but gold and red, with sunshine and roses, and hollyhocks +and carnations.</p> + +<p>He went and waited under the Princess's window, for he had grown clever +enough to know that the Princess, since she was now a dairymaid, would +be awake betimes. And sure enough the green silk curtains were presently +drawn back, and the drowsy, blowzy, frowzy face of the dairymaid looked +out.</p> + +<p>'Halloa!' she said to Muscadel, among the roses, 'what are <i>you</i> up to?'</p> + +<p>'I am the archer you love,' said Muscadel, among the roses.</p> + +<p>'Not you,' she said.</p> + +<p>'But indeed!' said he.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span></p> + + + +<p>'Lawks!' said the dairymaid.</p> + +<p>'Don't you love me like this?' said Muscadel.</p> + +<p>'Not a bit,' said she; 'go along, do! You've got a face as long as a +fiddle, and I never could abide black hair.'</p> + +<p>'I'm going to stay like this,' said he.</p> + +<p>'Then what's to become of me?' she asked, and waited for an answer with +her mouth half open.</p> + +<p>'I'll tell you,' said Muscadel. 'You can stay as you are all your life, +and go on loving an archer who isn't anywhere at all, or I'll lend you +the magic jewel, and then you can change back into the Princess. And +when you're the Princess, you'll love me ever so much more than you ever +loved the archer.'</p> + +<p>'Humph!' said the dairymaid, fingering the Princess's pearl necklace. +'Well, if my dear archer really isn't any more, anywhere—— As you say, +the really important thing is to love someone.' Although she was a silly +dairymaid she had the sense to see that. 'Give me the jewel,' she said.</p> + +<p>He threw it up, and she caught it overhand, put it on, and said:</p> + +<p>'I wish I was the Princess again.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span></p> + +<p>And there was the Princess leaning out of the window and covering her +face with her hands.</p> + +<p>'Look at me,' said Muscadel; 'am I the sort of person you could love?'</p> + +<p>'I don't know,' said Pandora, peeping at him between her rosy +finger-tips. 'You had better ask papa.'</p> + +<p>'I'd rather ask you,' said Muscadel, as he climbed up the palace ivy and +leaned in at her window-sill to ask her.</p> + +<p>And she leaned out to answer him.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>They were married the very next day, and everyone in the kingdom, rich +and poor, had roast beef and plum-pudding for dinner.</p> + +<p>And as soon as the wedding was over, Muscadel and his bride went down to +the lake, and he threw the magic jewel far, far out. It gleamed redly as +it flew through the sunlit air and with a tiny splash sank in the lake, +and there it is to this day. You might try to find it one of these days +when you have nothing better to do. I dare say you often feel that you +would like to change from what you are into something else, and, for +anything I know, it might be a very good thing for you, and for the rest +of the world.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span></p> + +<p>But Pandora and Muscadel were so happy at belonging to each other that +they never wished to change at all, so they did not want the magic ring, +and that is why they threw it away. For, as all good housekeepers know, +it is very foolish to keep useless things about—just to litter the +house up.</p> + + +<p class="center">THE END<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">PHOTOGRAPHED AND PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN<br /> + +BY BUTLER AND TANNER LIMITED<br /> + +FROME AND LONDON<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span></p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Oswald Bastable and Others, by Edith Nesbit + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OSWALD BASTABLE AND OTHERS *** + +***** This file should be named 28804-h.htm or 28804-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/8/0/28804/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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