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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: The Rainbow Book Tales of Fun & Fancy + +Author: Mabel Henriette Spielmann + +Illustrator: Arthur Rackham + Hugh Thomson + Bernard Partridge + Lewis Baumer + +Release Date: September 16, 2011 [EBook #37455] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RAINBOW BOOK TALES--FUN, FANCY *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Matthew Wheaton and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div> + +<h1 id="booktitle">THE RAINBOW BOOK</h1> + +<div class="topbox"> +<p class="centered"><i>BY THE SAME AUTHOR</i> +<br><br> +LITTLEDOM CASTLE +<br> +MY SON AND I +<br> +MARGERY REDFORD +<br> +THE LOVE FAMILY +<br> +THE CHILD OF THE AIR</p> +</div> + +<p class="h5"><i>All rights reserved</i></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="frontispiece" id="frontispiece"></a> +<img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" width="400" height="592" alt="The Fish-King and the Dog-Fish" title="The Fish-King and the Dog-Fish"> +</div> + +<p class="caption">The Fish-King and the Dog-Fish</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/z006.jpg" width="400" height="624" alt="Title Page" title="Title Page"> +<p class="caption">The Rainbow Book Tales of Fun & Fancy +<br> +By Mrs. M. H. SPIELMANN +<br> +Illustrated by +<br> +Arthur Rackham +<br> +Hugh Thomson +<br> +Bernard Partridge +<br> +Lewis Baumer +<br> +Harry Rountree +<br> +C. Wilhelm +<br> +<br> +NEW YORK +<br> +FREDERICK WARNE AND CO. +<br> +1909</p> +</div> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<p class="h4">TO</p> + +<p class="h3">BARBARA MARY RACKHAM</p> + +<p class="h4">WITH ALL GOOD WISHES +<br> +FOR HER FUTURE HAPPINESS +<br> +<span style="margin-left:10em">MABEL H. SPIELMANN</span> +</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[v]</span></p> + +<h2>PREFACE</h2> + +<p>It's all very well—but you, and I, and most of +us who are healthy in mind and blithe of spirit, +love to give rein to our fun and fancy, and to +mingle fun with our fancy and fancy with our fun.</p> + +<p>The little Fairy-people are the favourite children +of Fancy, and were born into this serious +world ages and ages ago to help brighten it, and +make it more graceful and dainty and prettily +romantic than it was. They found the Folk-lore +people already here—grave, learned people whose +learning was all topsy-turvy, for it dealt with toads, +and storms, and diseases, and what strange things +would happen if you mixed them up together, and +how the devil would flee if you did something +with a herb, and how the tempest would stop +suddenly, as Terence records, if you sprinkled a +few drops of vinegar in front of it. No doubt, +since then thousands of people have sprinkled tens +of thousands of gallons of good vinegar before +advancing tempests, and although tempests pay +far less attention to the liquid than the troubled +waters to a pint of oil, the sprinklers and their<span class="pagenum">[vi]</span> +descendants have gone on believing with a touching +faith. It is pretty, but not practical.</p> + +<p>But what <i>is</i> pretty and practical too, is that +all of us should sometimes let our fancy roam, +and that we should laugh as well, even over a +Fairy-story. Yet there are some serious-minded +persons, very grave and very clever, who get angry +if a smile so much as creeps into a Fairy-tale, +and if our wonder should be disturbed by anything +so worldly as a laugh. A Fairy-tale, they +say, should be like an old Folk-tale, marked by +sincerity and simplicity—as if humour cannot be +sincere and simple too. "The true Fairy-story is +not comic." Why not? Of this we may be sure—take +all the true humourless Fairy-stories and take +"Alice"—and "Alice" with its fun and fancy will +live beside them as long as English stories are read, +loved for its fancy and its fun, and hugged and +treasured for its jokes and its laughter. The one +objection is this: the "true Fairy-story" appeals +to all children, young and old, in all lands, equally, +by translation; and jokes and fun are sometimes +difficult to translate. But that is on account of +the shortcomings of language, and it is hard to +make young readers suffer by starving them of +fun, because the power of words is less absolute +than the power of fancy in its merrier mood.</p> + +<p>Some people, of course, take their Fairies very<span class="pagenum">[vii]</span> +seriously indeed, and we cannot blame them, for +it is a very harmless and very beautiful mental +refreshment. Some, indeed, not only believe firmly +in Fairies—in their existence and their exploits—but +believe themselves to be actually visited by +the Little People. For my part, I would rather +be visited by a Fairy than by a Spook any day, +or night: but when the "sincerity" of some of us +drove the Fairies out, the world was left so blank +and unimaginative, that the Spooks had to be +invited in. The admixture of faith and imagination +produces strange results, while it raises us +above the commonplaceness of everyday life.</p> + +<p>But, as I say, certain favoured people, mostly +little girls, it is true, are regularly visited by +Fairies even in the broad daylight, and they watch +them at their pretty business, at their games and +play (for Fairies, you may be sure, play and +laugh, however much the Folk-lorists may frown +when we are made to laugh with them). Two +hundred and fifty years ago a Cornish girl declared +that she had wonderful adventures with the +Fairies—and she meant truly what she said. And +it is only fifty years since an educated lady wrote +a sincere account of her doings with Fairies and +theirs with her, in an account which was reprinted in +one of the most serious of papers, and which showed +that the lady, like the uneducated Cornish girl two<span class="pagenum">[viii]</span> +centuries before, was a true "fairy-seer." Here is +a part of her story:—</p> + +<p>"I used to spend a great deal of my time alone +in our garden, and I think it must have been soon +after my brother's death that I first saw (or perhaps +recollect seeing) Fairies. I happened one +day to break, with a little whip I had, the flower +of a buttercup: a little while after, as I was resting +on the grass, I heard a tiny but most beautiful +voice saying, 'Buttercup, who has broken your +house?' Then another voice replied, 'That little +girl that is lying close by you.' I listened in +great wonder, and looked about me, until I saw +a daisy, in which stood a little figure not larger, +certainly, than one of its petals.</p> + +<p>"When I was between three and four years old +we removed to London, and I pined sadly for my +country home and friends. I saw none of them +for a long time, I think because I was discontented; +I did not try to make myself happy. At +last I found a copy of Shakespeare in my father's +study, which delighted me so much (though I +don't suppose I understood much of it) that I +soon forgot we were living where I could not +see a tree or a flower. I used to take the book +and my little chair, and sit in a paved yard we +had. (I could see the sky there.) One day, as +I was reading the 'Midsummer Night's Dream,' I<span class="pagenum">[ix]</span> +happened to look up, and saw before me a patch +of soft, green grass with the Fairy-ring upon it: +whilst I was wondering how it came, my old +friends appeared and acted the whole play (I +suppose to amuse me). After this they often +came, and did the same with the other plays."</p> + +<p>There! what do you say to that? Do you +wonder that the good folk of Blagdon, for example, +still point to the hill "where the fairies +come to dance," and show you the Fairy-rings, like +that which Cedric saw (as is recounted in this book), +with the Little People capering about? Of course, +the country folk don't laugh at them, because it is +all so mysterious, and, as the scientific professors +declare, abnormal, if not supernormal; but do you +believe for one moment, that in their joyous dance +the fairies do not laugh and joke as well as play +and caper? The Bird-Fairy, as appears later, was +always grave and loving, and didn't laugh—but +then <i>she</i> was an enchanted Princess, and had sad +and serious business on hand, and was not quite sure, +sanguine though she was, of defeating the machinations +of the cunning and wicked Wizard. But +look at the classic Grimm, at the tiny, dancing, +capering tailors whose portraits Cruikshank drew +so well in it, and say if there is not a peal of +laughter in every open mouth of them, and a +chuckle in every limb and joint. Not "comic,"<span class="pagenum">[x]</span> +Mr. Folk-lorist? Why, they are the very spirit +and personification of comedy and fun!</p> + +<p>But then your scientist comes along and tries to +explain away the Fairy-rings themselves, which +have defied explanation since Fairy-rings first came +among us. Once at Kinning Park at Glasgow +(and thousands of times elsewhere) four Fairy-rings +appeared in one night—on a cricket-ground, if you +please! on which the cricketers had been continuously +playing and practising; and the poets +said that they were made by the Fairies dancing +under the moonlight, or, when the moon went +to bed, by the lamplight of a glow-worm. That, +<i>I</i> think, must be the truth, simple and sincere. +Each ring was a belt of grass darker and greener +than the surrounding turf, and was eight or ten +inches broad; and the largest were nine and ten +feet in diameter, and the others five and six, +measuring from the centre of the belt. And the +circles were accurate and the advent of them quite +sudden. Clearly, the Fairies <i>must</i> have made them. +But then a learned professor arose and lectured +about them before the British Association. He +was a great naturalist, and said that the rings +contained a great number of toad-stools. And he +brought along a chemist who analysed the fungi, and +said he found in them a lot of phosphoric acid and +potash and peroxide of iron and sulphuric acid, and<span class="pagenum">[xi]</span> +a lot of things the fairies had never heard of and certainly +never brought there, and he said that that, +with phosphated alkali and magnesia, accounted for +the rings! And then another great professor said +that they must have been years in coming, and that +electricity might have something to do with it, and +that small rings sometimes spread to fifty yards in +diameter—which only proves the wonderful power +of happy industry of the Fairies, even in their revels +and in their play.</p> + +<p>So much for the Fairies.</p> + +<p>But everybody is not in love with Fairies; some +people don't care for them, some (as we have seen) +don't even believe in them! Many don't care to +read about them, being insensible to their grace +and pretty elegance, their exquisite dignity, and +their ever-present youth. Who ever heard of a +middle-aged fairy? Such folk, be their age what +it may, generally prefer fun; especially do they +love what Charles Dickens once for all defined and +established as the Spirit of Christmas. Well, here +they may find Father Christmas at home, and +on his rounds. Here they will find revealed and +laid bare the whole secret and mystery of Santa +Claus—where the presents come from, and where +they are stored—how they are packed and how +delivered while we are all asleep in our beds, +delivered from the waits. Here, too, the "old-fangled<span class="pagenum">[xii]</span> +father" is justified in the eyes of his +"new-fangled sons," who recognise that fundamental +truths—and such truths!—are not shaken +by the on-coming tide of Time. And here, besides, +you may learn what goes on on that other side +of the moon which we never see, and what is its +service to Man, and to Woman and Child as well. +And for the first time in the history of romance +we discover what it was that the Sleeping Beauty +dreamt. And there are stories of other kinds—with +a touch of pathos, too.</p> + +<p>Story-telling is the oldest of the arts—the art +of which we never tire—the art which will be out-lived +by none other, however fascinating, however +beautiful, however perfect. It may deal with +human thought and human passion; it may appeal +to the highest intellect and the profoundest sentiments +of men; or just to the brightest and +dreamiest fancy of the young. Be it but well +told, even though it does not stir our emotions, +the little story delights the imagination, and makes +us grateful to the teller for an hour well spent +or pleasantly whiled away. That is the greatest +reward of the writer, as it is the sole ambition +of the author of these little tales.</p> + +<p class="author"><i>Mister</i> M. H. SPIELMANN.<span class="pagenum">[xiii]</span></p> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<p class="h3">CONTENTS</p> + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="70%" summary="Table of Contents"> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc" colspan="2">Adventures in Wizard-land—</td> + <td class="tdrfirst">PAGE</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> </td> + <td class="tdl"><i>Illustrated by</i> <span class="smcap">Arthur Rackham, A.R.W.S.</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">I.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">A Knock at the Red Door</a></td> + <td class="tdr">1</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td class="tdr">II.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">The Wizard at Home</a></td> + <td class="tdr">8</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"> III.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">The Bird-Fairy Speaks</a></td> + <td class="tdr">18</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">IV.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">The Lost Catseye</a></td> + <td class="tdr">26</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">V.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">In the Fish-King's Realm</a></td> + <td class="tdr">45</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">VI.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">The Mystery of the Crab</a></td> + <td class="tdr">67</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"> VII.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">The Magic Bracelets</a></td> + <td class="tdr">76</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">VIII.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">The Spell—and how it Worked</a></td> + <td class="tdr">83</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><a href="#THE_OLD-FANGLED_FATHER_AND">The Old-Fangled Father and his New-Fangled Sons</a></td> + <td class="tdr">91</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><a href="#THE_LITTLE_PICTURE_GIRL">The Little Picture Girl</a></td> + <td class="tdr">103</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> </td> + <td class="tdl"><i>Illustrated by</i> <span class="smcap">Hugh Thomson, R.I.</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><a href="#THE_SLEEPING_BEAUTYS_DREAM">The Sleeping Beauty's Dream</a></td> + <td class="tdr">117</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> </td> + <td class="tdl"><i>Illustrated by</i> <span class="smcap">Bernard Partridge, R.I.</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><a href="#THE_GAMEKEEPERS_DAUGHTER">The Gamekeeper's Daughter</a></td> + <td class="tdr">123</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> </td> + <td class="tdl"><i>Illustrated by</i> <span class="smcap">Lewis Baumer</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><a href="#ALL_ON_A_FIFTH_OF_NOVEMBER">All on a Fifth of November</a></td> + <td class="tdr">139</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><a href="#FATHER_CHRISTMAS_AT_HOME">Father Christmas at Home</a></td> + <td class="tdr">150</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> </td> + <td class="tdl"><i>Illustrated by</i> <span class="smcap">Arthur Rackham, A.R.W.S.</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><span class="pagenum">[xiv]</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><a href="#A_BIRTHDAY_STORY">A Birthday Story</a></td> + <td class="tdr">168</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><a href="#LITTLE_STARRY">Little Starry</a></td> + <td class="tdr">178</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><a href="#CEDRICS_UNACCOUNTABLE">Cedric's Unaccountable Adventure</a></td> + <td class="tdr">187</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> </td> + <td class="tdl"><i>Illustrated by</i> <span class="smcap">Harry Rountree</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><a href="#ROSELLA">Rosella</a></td> + <td class="tdr">206</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><a href="#THE_CUCKOO_THAT_LIVED_IN_THE">The Cuckoo that Lived in the Clock-House</a></td> + <td class="tdr">220</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><a href="#CHRISTMAS_AT_THE_COURT_OF">Christmas at the Court of King Jorum</a></td> + <td class="tdr">229</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> </td> + <td class="tdl"><i>Illustrated by</i> <span class="smcap">Hugh Thomson, R.I.</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><a href="#ONE_APRIL_DAY">One April Day</a></td> + <td class="tdr">247</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><a href="#THE_STORM_THE_TEAPOT_BREWED">The Storm the Teapot Brewed</a></td> + <td class="tdr">259</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><a href="#MONICA_THE_MOON_CHILD">Monica the Moon Child</a></td> + <td class="tdr">268</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> </td> + <td class="tdl"><i>Illustrated by</i> <span class="smcap">C. Wilhelm<span class="pagenum">[xv]</span></span></td> + </tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<p class="h3">ILLUSTRATIONS</p> + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" width="70%" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#frontispiece">The Fish-king and the Dog-Fish</a></td> + <td class="tdrfirst"><i>Frontispiece</i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"> </td> + <td class="tdrfirst"><i>To face page</i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z028">"So you've come to see the Wizard," he said</a></td> + <td class="tdr">6</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z076">Its Head was patted graciously</a></td> + <td class="tdr">52</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z088">What a glorious Ride that was</a></td> + <td class="tdr">62</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z098">She stroked it—actually stroked it</a></td> + <td class="tdr">70</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z112">Taking the Boy and Girl by a Hand, he led them</a></td> + <td class="tdr">82</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z136">The Little Picture Girl</a></td> + <td class="tdr">104</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z144">In marched a stout Beadle</a></td> + <td class="tdr">110</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z156">Then she accepted his invitation to Dance</a></td> + <td class="tdr">120</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z160">"It is you, O Prince, the Youth of my Dream!"</a></td> + <td class="tdr">122</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z166">"You can just hand over that Pheasant"</a></td> + <td class="tdr">126</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z172">"Who are you, then?"</a></td> + <td class="tdr">130</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z182">She ran and fetched his Presents she was anxious to show</a></td> + <td class="tdr">138</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z200">It was a very, very long Ladder</a></td> + <td class="tdr">154</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z212">The two Reindeer ... sped rapidly away</a></td> + <td class="tdr">164</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z240">Lay low, and hatched an audacious Plot</a></td> + <td class="tdr">190</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z244">"Of course your young Majesty has got the Key?"</a></td> + <td class="tdr">192</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z258">"I really do look every inch a King!"</a></td> + <td class="tdr">204</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z288">Looking neither to the Right nor to the Left</a></td> + <td class="tdr">232</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z332">Round about was nothing but Mountains, Craters, Caverns</a></td> + <td class="tdr">274</td> + </tr> +</table></div> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[xvi]</span></p> + +<p class="h3">ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE TEXT</p> + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="70%" summary="Illustrations in the Text"> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"> </td> + <td class="tdrfirst">PAGE</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z022">Adventures in Wizard-Land</a></td> + <td class="tdr">1</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z034">"All these poor Creatures were Children"</a></td> + <td class="tdr">11</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z037">He took Two Jewelled Circlets out of a Satchel</a></td> + <td class="tdr">14</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z042">"I am the Bird-Fairy," she said</a></td> + <td class="tdr">19</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z084">They met many a Quaint Creature</a></td> + <td class="tdr">59</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z118">The Wizard, with a Groan of Pain, had leapt back</a></td> + <td class="tdr">87</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z120">Lying full length on the Ground next to his shattered Invention</a></td> + <td class="tdr">89</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z134">Initial</a></td> + <td class="tdr">103</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z140">He mounted it very carefully</a></td> + <td class="tdr">107</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z148">Smiled as she waved Good-bye</a></td> + <td class="tdr">113</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z204">"I suppose you know you're trespassing?"</a></td> + <td class="tdr">157</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z325">Monica the Moon Child</a></td> + <td class="tdr">268</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z330">She was soaring like a Bird right out into the Night</a></td> + <td class="tdr">273</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z339">A Tiny Figure, no bigger than Monica's Doll</a></td> + <td class="tdr">280</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z342">Rows upon Rows of the beautifullest Roses</a></td> + <td class="tdr">283</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#z348">The Man lifted his Arm so that his Face was once more hidden in gloom</a></td> + <td class="tdr">289</td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + +<hr class="thin"> + +<p class="h5"><i>The Title-page and End-papers are by</i> <span class="smcap">Mr. Carton Moore Park</span>.</p> + +<div class="big"> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 498px;"> +<a name="z022" id="z022"></a> +<img src="images/z022.jpg" width="498" height="264" alt="" title=""> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[1]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<p class="h3">A KNOCK AT THE RED DOOR</p> + +<p>"It's a shame, Dulcie. We mayn't go out just +because it's raining a few drops," said the boy at +the nursery window.</p> + +<p>"Yes, a fearful shame," replied his sister. She +always sympathised with him and gave in to him, +right or wrong. She carefully propped her doll bolt +upright on a chair and came to where he stood. +"Never mind, Cyril. Let's play at something."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I do mind. It's too bad! It's always +'you mustn't' this, 'you mustn't' that. It would +be a saving of breath if they'd just say the few +things that we <i>might</i> do. Are you willing to go +on putting up with it? I suppose you are, as +you're only a girl."<span class="pagenum">[2]</span></p> + +<p>"No, I don't want to, but I've got to. Mother +says it is for our good, and we are spoilt."</p> + +<p>"I don't think so at all. It's very hard lines," +growled Cyril. "I'm sure the garden isn't a bit wet, +and the rocks have only a sprinkle."</p> + +<p>Certainly the window panes had more than a +sprinkle trickling down them. But the birds were +twittering fussily in the bushes and amongst the +ivy, and the garden was looking its best in the +summer shower. Fitful gleams of sunshine cast +loving touches here and there on the roses and the +sweet honeysuckle; and the tall white lilies never +looked fresher or smarter. Beyond, were those +tempting rocks, with their surroundings of sand, +which rose so strangely in that part of inland Kent, +telling of former ages and of the vagaries of the sea +and river. The rocks were the happy playground +of these lucky Twins, who lived in the fine solitary +house close by, and who were now peering so disconsolately +through the window, flattening their noses +against the glass blurred with the pattering rain.</p> + +<p>They were exactly the same height; they resembled +one another in feature, and, being twins, +were both nine years old; and there the likeness +ended, for his dark hair was short and thick, and +hers was fair and very long. She was timid and +gentle though her bright face was very happy; he, +what is termed "a handful."<span class="pagenum">[3]</span></p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> know!" exclaimed Dulcie after a moment's +silence, drawing her brother away from the melancholy +amusement of tracing down the trailing drops +with his finger until they disappeared mysteriously +at the bottom of the glass. "I know! Let's play +'Birds, Beasts, and Fishes.'"</p> + +<p>Cyril cast a lingering look at the tiresome dark +clouds, then with a sigh and a frown turned round +in token of consent, graciously suffered himself to +be settled at the table with paper and pencil, and +was soon excitedly trying to guess what Dulcie's +Bird could be that began with the letter c, had four +between, and ended with an <i>e</i>.</p> + +<p>"It's very easy, really," pleaded Dulcie, burning +to tell. "Do you give it up?"</p> + +<p>Cyril wasn't so easily beaten as that, and thought +till he grew impatient.</p> + +<p>"Shall I tell you?—<i>Let</i> me tell you!" urged his +sister.</p> + +<p>"If you like," he replied magnanimously.</p> + +<p>"Canare!"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure it's spelt with a <i>y</i>," he said, as if he +weren't quite certain in spite of his words.</p> + +<p>They argued who should score the mark, and +settled the point by counting it a draw. She followed +it up with a Fish, which was <i>s</i>, two between, +and an <i>l</i>, which puzzled Cyril until he found, of +course, that it was "soul."<span class="pagenum">[4]</span></p> + +<p>Believing he had lost again, he allowed his interest +in the game to flag, and still restless, he ran to the +window.</p> + +<p>"Hooray! it's fine now," he cried. "Come along, +we don't want hats!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Ought</i> we to go, do you think, Cyril, without +asking?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to ask, not if I know it. We +would be sure to be 'don't'-ed. I'm going out. +It's so stuffy here. You can do as you like."</p> + +<p>"If you go, I shall go too," she replied quickly, +following him and taking his hand. He didn't +quite like that, but he felt, as she was "only a +woman," he would let her.</p> + +<p>Away they ran lightly, out into the sunshine, +happy to be in the warm, scented air, through the +garden, off to the dear old rocks which were already +drying nicely, and at once a fine game of hide-and-seek +was in full swing.</p> + +<p>Dulcie had gone again to hide, and Cyril had his +face buried in his hands, waiting for the familiar +"Cuckoo!" when he was startled instead by a faint cry +of surprise, followed by "Cyril, come quick! Quick!"</p> + +<p>"It must be a beetle or a toad, or something," +he said to himself as he hurried to the spot from +which her voice seemed to come; but it was only +after she had repeated her excited cries that he +found her at last.<span class="pagenum">[5]</span></p> + +<p>She had found a passage through the rocks which +they had never noticed before!</p> + +<p>"Come along!" cried Cyril joyously at the sight +of it. "Come along! we'll go on a voyage of discovery!"</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Down the passage they went, far and carefully, for +there was only a glimmer of light in a thin streak peeping +through, because the rocks all but joined at the +top, and the ground was uneven and slippery. But +in spite of their caution they got a sudden start, for +they became aware of a silent brook flowing deep +and swiftly by, at their feet: another step and they +would have been in it. The Twins, rather startled, +looked at one another, and then without further +thought they just jumped across. Jumped into an +open space—into <span class="smcap">Moonlight</span>. There was actually +a full moon overhead, but with such seams and lines +about it that it bore the appearance of being pieced +together like a geographical puzzle.</p> + +<p>"Cyril, look there!" whispered Dulcie, pressing +close up to him, as soon as she found words.</p> + +<p>In the white light there stood an immense rock. +In it there was a wooden door with hewn-out steps +leading up to it. A nice red door it was, with a +green knocker upon it in the shape of a mouth +smiling a welcome. Of course they went up to it, +climbed the steps, which were high and difficult, and<span class="pagenum">[6]</span> +stared at the neatly engraved brass plate below it, +which bore the words:</p> + +<div class="topbox"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Knock if an answer is required.<br></span> +<span class="i4">If not, why?<br></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<p>"I'm going to knock," said Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, we don't want any answer," said Dulcie, +"so why do it?"</p> + +<p>A backward glance at the steps puzzled her, for +they had grown steeper than before and impossible +to climb down again, or up, for the matter of that, +and the door before which they stood was now at +such a height from the ground as to make her +feel giddy to look below. She hardly had time +to think about it when Cyril raised the knocker +and let it go. Instead of the usual sound a +knocker makes, a loud laugh rang out, discordant +and disconcerting. "You needn't be frightened," +he remarked, for his little sister hung back and +tightened her grasp of his arm. The next moment +the door swung open and there stood on the threshold +a very tall man with an enormous bald head. +He was clad in a yellow satin dressing-gown, and +wore great smoke-coloured spectacles.</p> + +<p>"So you've come to see the Wizard," he said +blandly. "Pray walk in!"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 386px;"> +<a name="z028" id="z028"></a> +<img src="images/z028.jpg" width="386" height="600" alt=""So you've come to see the Wizard," he said" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">"So you've come to see the Wizard," he said</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[7]</span></p> + +<p>"I—I think we'd—we'd rather not, thank you +very much," stammered Cyril, very red, whilst +Dulcie looked up, pale and wondering. "We're +not dressed for visiting," she urged in a loud +whisper in her brother's ear.</p> + +<p>"But you require an answer, or why knock?" +retorted the strange man. "<i>Pray</i> walk in," he +repeated. He was so polite.</p> + +<p>The door swung behind them, and the trembling +twins found themselves alone with the Wizard in +a very large cave, where the walls glowed with +phosphorescent light, while the further end was +hidden in deep gloom.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[8]</span> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE WIZARD AT HOME</p> + +<p>"How do you do?" said the Wizard, as if he +remembered he had forgotten to ask. The Twins +shyly shook hands with him and said they were +quite well, thank him. They didn't want to a +bit, but he seemed to expect it. "Let's talk +matters over," he added with a smile. It was +such a winning smile that the children began to +feel less uncomfortable. "You're not always +quite content, I believe," and he rubbed his +hands cheerfully together. "That mother of +yours interferes rather too much, eh?" With +a rapid movement he pushed his spectacles away +on to the top of his bumpy baldness, revealing a +pair of small eyes with a red, slumbering glow +in them.</p> + +<p>As Cyril didn't reply Dulcie ventured to remark, +"If you please, my brother thinks she says +'don't' too often."</p> + +<p>"But how do you know that?" interrupted +Cyril, who, though surprised, took a more practical +view of the situation.<span class="pagenum">[9]</span></p> + +<p>"Because," slowly replied the Wizard, taking +off his spectacles and scratching his big nose with +them—"because I was an optician in my youth +and made these glasses, through which I have only +to look to see people as they really are and not +what they appear to be. ["How clever!" broke +in Dulcie under her breath.] I found out at a +glance that you are discontented with your lot, +and prefer to be free. You are tired of control, +eh? Isn't that the state of Home Affairs?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Cyril, once more full of his wrongs. +"It's only children who are not allowed to do +what they want. Grown-ups do as they like; so +does our dog; he goes out and comes in when he +likes, eats when he wants, leaves what he likes—or +rather, what he doesn't like; so does our cat. +You see," he continued, growing quite chummy, +"we are never allowed to do this, that, and the +other, like other people—animals, I mean—and +they are free and happy, and they needn't bother +with lessons. It's so stupid being a child!" he +concluded plaintively, and Dulcie nodded a similar +opinion.</p> + +<p>"Just as I thought. Well, I shouldn't put up +with it if I were you," replied their new friend, +smiling again, and scratching his nose with his +spectacles in his thoughtful, insinuating manner. +"I should advise you to go your own way, seek<span class="pagenum">[10]</span> +your own fortunes, and find your own happiness +for yourselves. We must see what we can do to +help you to freedom. Eh?"</p> + +<p>The little guests did not think to thank him, for +their eyes had begun to roam with curiosity over +the strange things that were all about. The cave +dwelling was queerly furnished, if it could be +called furniture. There were animals of all sizes +and shapes, standing around stuffed, staring, and +immovable. Snakes, fish, small birds; an elephant +just like life standing rigidly next to a number of +grinning stuffed monkeys; while a crocodile with +open jaws looked snaps at a startled fawn with +wide-set eyes. It was like a frozen Zoological +Gardens.</p> + +<p>"Once upon a time," remarked the Wizard, +following the children's source of interest, "all +those poor creatures were children like you. Ah! +their end was sad, very sad; very sad indeed!"</p> + +<p>The Twins didn't like that remark at all, nor +did they relish the winning smile this time that +accompanied it. Then bursting out laughing he +exclaimed—</p> + +<p>"Now I'll show you something funny," and he +brought out from a corner what looked like a cinematograph. +"Look!" he said as he touched a +spring and set it going.</p> + +<p>There was a hissing sound, and the gloom at the<span class="pagenum">[11]</span> +end of the cave passed away, and there marched +along in living procession all the inhabitants of +their Noah's Ark.</p> + +<p>Dulcie and Cyril were transfixed with delight +at this charming entertainment.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 497px;"> +<a name="z034" id="z034"></a> +<img src="images/z034.jpg" width="497" height="403" alt=""All those poor creatures were children"" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">"All those poor creatures were children"</p> + +<p>"And we don't pay anything to come in!" remarked +Cyril softly to his sister. "It can't pay him. +They're all going in for safety, you see—all the +birds, all the beasts——"</p> + +<p>"Where are the fishes?" anxiously interrupted +his little sister in a whisper.<span class="pagenum">[12]</span></p> + +<p>"Don't be such a Billy," retorted Cyril with a +frown; "the fishes are used to being drowned."</p> + +<p>After Noah went into the Ark and had shut +the door, the gloom reappeared. The show was +over.</p> + +<p>"That's a little idea of my own," remarked the +Wizard as he put the machine away. "Amusing, +isn't it?"</p> + +<p>The Twins nodded. Then he invited the children +to look through a hole in the wall of the +cave, and they saw a small room.</p> + +<p>"That's my hospitable bedroom," he said, "that +I've endowed myself with. When I'm down in +the mumps from being crouped up here so long, +I go there and wrap myself up in thoughts all nice +and smug. It is fitted with the epileptic light, +rheumatic bells, and all the latest infections.</p> + +<p>"Now, what were we talking about before? Ah +yes! My inventions. None of your modern up-to-date +rubbish, only inventions of the future for +me. None of your wireless telephony and wireless +telegraphy for me. Listen to this." He called +out—</p> + +<p>"Number A. 1. Sea Power! Have you been +successful in that last little financial venture, Sire?"</p> + +<p>There were rushing sounds, as of waves, at the +far end of the cave, and a muffled voice replied—</p> + +<p>"No, Cabalistic One, I have lost again. Just<span class="pagenum">[13]</span> +my luck! Dash—sh—sh—" which resolved itself +into the swish-swish of rolling surf. Then all was +quiet again.</p> + +<p>"The reply of a friend of mine residing far away +at a place called 'The Billows,'" explained the +Wizard in an offhand way. "I help him in his little +transactions, which are sometimes rather—in fact +very—!" and raising his arm he smothered a laugh +in his yellow satin sleeve which was not pleasant +to hear. "I always like to laugh up there," he explained, +as the children looked surprised.</p> + +<p>Dulcie's hand stole into her brother's and she +whispered him to "Come away, come away, do, +quick, and let's go home."</p> + +<p>"But you haven't seen any of my marvellous +jewellery yet," replied their host, as though she had +spoken aloud.</p> + +<p>"Don't be timid"—he was looking at them +through those horrid spectacles again, which laid +bare all their thoughts. "You know I am only +answering that knock of yours. Had you not required +an answer, there would have been no information +forthcoming. I should just like to show +you these bracelets I have here." He pushed his +glasses across his baldness and took two jewelled +golden circlets out of a satchel which hung from +the cord of his gown. "Other children have taken +great interest in them," said the Wizard slowly<span class="pagenum">[14]</span>—"in fact have worn +all the gems out. +But I've often had +them done up +again; and you are +both welcome to +them—very welcome +to them, if +you like. You see, +<i>they</i> are able to inform +their wearers +how to play at +'Birds, Beasts, and +Fishes' <i>properly</i>."</p> + +<img class="split" src="images/z037.jpg" width="363" height="680" alt="He took two jewelled circlets out of a satchel" title=""> +<a name="z037" id="z037"></a> +<p class="caption split">He took two jewelled circlets out of a satchel</p> + +<p>"We know already," +replied the +boy and girl together, +now restlessly +impatient to +be gone.</p> + +<p>"I don't mean +that tiresome educational +game you +were playing when +you were waiting in +because of those +few drops of rain. +I mean the <i>real</i> thing—to be actually the real<span class="pagenum">[15]</span> +animals themselves in the realms of the Birds, +Beasts, and Fishes. Only in that way can children +realise how much nicer it is to be one of them, and +to live a life free from the 'don'ts' and vexatious +care of their elders. Ah! <i>Now</i> you're interested!"</p> + +<p>The Twins were staring at him open-mouthed.</p> + +<p>"These bracelets," continued the Wizard, whilst +the ten catseye gems in each of them gleamed +curiously as he spoke—"see—aren't they beautiful—</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">These Bracelets will empower the +wearers to become Bird, Beast, or Fish, at +each wish; to regain his shape, or her +shape, at will, and to live in any atmosphere—or +in none!</span> At every change of form +a catseye will disappear and return to me. With +the last wish the wonderful adventures will be +over, and the shape last chosen will remain to the +end of existence. All these silly animals in my +dwelling came at the last to seek my help as they +were dissatisfied. I did what I could, which wasn't +much. Of course I don't want so many of them +here," he added carelessly, scratching his nose with +his glasses, "though they do help with my experiments—they +do that—oh yes—but I always advise +getting experience first. They somehow got to +know that <i>as children under ten</i> they could only +pass <i>into</i> my <span class="smcap">Moonlight</span> and never <i>out of it</i>; and<span class="pagenum">[16]</span> +that my faithful <span class="smcap">Brook</span> would not see them twice. +So they came for help in their last shapes as animals. +Oh!" he added, pulling himself up with evident +pretence, "I helped them right enough! They +should have kept a pair of catseyes—I warned +them—and they might have crossed my <span class="smcap">Brook</span> +in some other shape than their own and changed +to themselves the other side. But somehow they +were not fortunate enough to manage that. Some +people are so thoughtless. Pray excuse me, my +dears, there's some one at the knocker," and throwing +the bracelets into a corner where they glittered +strangely, the Wizard vanished.</p> + +<p>"Come away, do come away," implored Dulcie, +plucking at her brother's sleeve. "I'm so frightened," +she whimpered. "Don't touch them. Oh! +I want to go home."</p> + +<p>"But, sis, you heard what he said. We can't +cross his horrid brook twice whilst we are under +ten. Crying won't help," replied the boy sturdily. +Nevertheless, he looked terribly frightened himself, +although he patted her shoulder comfortingly. "<i>I +feel I must!</i>" he muttered; "besides, it's our only +way out of here, and get out of here we must, and +escape in some other shape."</p> + +<p>Cyril hastily picked up the bracelets, put one on +his wrist and the other on Dulcie's, and taking her +by the hand dragged her right into the gloomy<span class="pagenum">[17]</span> +part of the cavern farther and farther away from +the hateful dwelling and its awful master. He +couldn't tell where he was leading her, but he ran +blindly on until at last there was daylight in the +distance. And the Twins found themselves surrounded +by haystacks, windmills, and other country +objects.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" exclaimed Cyril with delight, "see how +I've saved you, Dulcie!"</p> + +<p>"And a good job too," she replied with conviction.</p> + +<p>So they wandered gaily on, laughing at anything +and everything in the happiness of their escape. +They <i>were</i> happy, anyhow; happy in their absolute +freedom. And were they not in the possession, +too, of the precious bracelets which were going to +lead them into all sorts of delightful adventures +as soon as they chose! They could talk of nothing +else—and babbled on of how they would cross the +brook as animals, and how they would be wiser +than all the other poor creatures, by keeping a gem +in reserve and change to themselves on the other +side.</p> + +<p>Little could they guess of the troubles and adventures +that awaited them!<span class="pagenum">[18]</span></p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE BIRD-FAIRY SPEAKS</p> + +<p>The children had been so busy chattering of fun +to come, that it was all of a sudden they realised +they were in a glade which looked quite enchanting, +and with so many daisies about that Dulcie +wanted to sit down and weave those they gathered +into a chain.</p> + +<p>"Don't wait for that," said Cyril; "carry them +in my handkerchief."</p> + +<p>But when he felt in his pockets the handkerchief +was not there. He must have dropped it. Dulcie +proposed that they should retrace their steps, but +sweet sounds of innumerable birds came from the +high trees around and filled the air—and they +stayed to listen to the concert of trills, chirrups, +gentle call-notes, cadences, and bursts of tremulous +song. And now, against the deep blue sky +hovered what looked like a cloud which suddenly +separated and descended, and the Twins found +themselves face to face with a most lovely being, +surrounded by a ring of exquisite little creatures, +who danced to the continuous music of the Wood<span class="pagenum">[19]</span>.</p> + +<p>Cyril and Dulcie gazed at their beautiful companion, +who stepped towards them smiling graciously. +She looked like a lovely young girl. +Draped about her was a wondrous garment of +feathers of every hue. But she was strange indeed, +for her hands, clasped behind her, drew close +together two enormous wings which sprouted from +her shoulders and formed part of her white arms; +whilst upon her shapely head among her black +tresses was the aigrette of the peacock. Her +attendants had no aigrette, and their feathered<span class="pagenum">[20]</span> +draperies were of sober brown. They were much +smaller too, smaller even than the Twins.</p> + +<p>"I am the Bird-Fairy," she said in cooing tones, +"and you are in need of advice. I can——"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="z042" id="z042"></a> +<img src="images/z042.jpg" width="500" height="403" alt=""I am the Bird-Fairy," she said" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">"I am the Bird-Fairy," she said</p> + +<p>"Not exactly, thanks. You <i>are</i> pretty!" stammered +Cyril, interrupting. "It's because—we +want to go our own way—at home we—" he +stopped in order to shake off Dulcie, who was +tugging at his jacket.</p> + +<p>"If you please," asked Dulcie shyly, "what +advice?"</p> + +<p>"It would be exactly contrary to the Wizard's," +and the Fairy looked serious.</p> + +<p>"Thanks very much," interrupted Cyril; "but +we do want to seek our fortunes—to go on our +adventures. It's a grand thing to do," he explained, +"specially for her—she's a girl. Besides, +we can't cross the Brook as children."</p> + +<p>"Don't use those catseyes and it might be +possible; that is, if you are willing. Be warned! +Let me carry you quickly to the other side and +then run home," said the Bird-Fairy anxiously.</p> + +<p>Cyril shook his head, so Dulcie shook hers.</p> + +<p>"It's always 'don't,'" he muttered. "It's sure +to be all right, Dulcie," he said turning to her.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure?" she inquired vaguely, with a +lingering glance at the Fairy, who had turned away +sadly.<span class="pagenum">[21]</span></p> + +<p>"It must be if we keep that last change as we +arranged."</p> + +<p>From the trees now issued forth sweet wood-birds +of many kinds—the air was thick with them; +they circled three times round the fairy ring and +then all flew away, and the children were once +more alone.</p> + +<p>"Wasn't that beautiful? Ah!" sighed Dulcie, +looking after them, "I wish I could be one of +them and sing like them."</p> + +<p>Hardly were the words out of her mouth when +Cyril began to stare about in amazement. His +sister was nowhere to be seen. Her disappearance +was so rapid that the earth might have swallowed +her up.</p> + +<p>"Dulcie, Dulcie," he cried. "Wherever are +you? Come back at once when I tell you!"</p> + +<p>Nothing stirred in the stillness except the waving +branches of the tall trees—and a little bird that +came and perched upon his shoulder and began +softly to trill into his ear what meant nothing to +him. He stroked its smooth plumage. His hand +touched something hard around its throat. He +parted the feathers and found—a golden circlet set +with catseyes, one of which was missing.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" he exclaimed. "It's her!"</p> + +<p>He was too flustered to talk grammar. "How +fearfully quick the change came about—only just<span class="pagenum">[22]</span> +a slight hint like that! I say! We <i>shall</i> have to +look out! I wonder how you like it, you pretty +little bird! I wish I could understand those chirping +sounds!"</p> + +<p>Instantly he became like her—a lark. He +understood her at once, and the pair flew away, +singing gaily as they rose together, fluttering up +and up, soaring high and ever higher into the blue +azure of the cloudless sky.</p> + +<p>Never was there such a blissful sensation as that, +flying heavenwards to the music of their own +making. Dancing at a party to the accompaniment +of a piano was mere ordinary child's play +compared to the invigorating delight of this new +experience. The earth looked like a map, and +they realised now what was meant by a "bird's-eye +view." After a time, still singing, they +dropped quickly down to earth. Then Cyril led +the way into the Wood, where they perched in +one of the highest trees; and they hopped about, +scanning their surroundings, and awaiting the +visits of other little feathered inhabitants whose +acquaintance they expected to make. In the +meantime they gleaned various scraps of news +from certain twitterings in the adjoining branches, +some of which they clearly overheard.</p> + +<p>And it came as a shock that these twitterings +were mostly complaints about the scarcity of provisions;<span class="pagenum">[23]</span> +about starvation among the weak birds +who could not compete against the strong; about +the unfair scrambling for tit-bits which caused +grievous bodily hurt. Then a painful rumour was +discussed about poor little Mother Starling, who +had been taken unawares by a wild beast with +terrible whiskers who was seen to pounce upon her +and carry her off—and her husband, who still went +about vainly calling his mate and would not be +comforted. They heard how, in the hospitals +under the hedges, things were in a bad way—how +one patient was down with a broken wing, with no +hope of getting well in time to migrate; and of +others incurable, and resigned.</p> + +<p>All this so depressed the two joyous young larks +that they flew some distance away, when through +the leaves they discovered in the tree next to them +nothing less than the beautiful Bird-Fairy reclining +asleep in the branches with her retinue of little +sprites in various attitudes all around her, their +shining eyes wide open, on guard.</p> + +<p>The absolute silence proved too monotonous for +our lively pair. So away they flew again—miles +and miles away into the open country, enjoying to +the fullest freedom found at last, feeding in the sun-gilded +fields, drinking from the pools, bathing in the +sandy roads, and flying for all they were worth in +their youthful spirits. Life like this was life indeed!<span class="pagenum">[24]</span></p> + +<p>Their happiness seemed complete, when a sudden +sense of horror struck them both at the +same moment, and hardly had they realised it +when they noticed something very large which +had been poised above swooping towards them, +striking terror into their souls as it came. It +was a sparrow-hawk, and death was upon them. +Instinctively they swerved out of its terrible +course, and commenced a series of short, zig-zag +flights, their eyes starting nearly out of their +little heads with fright. The enemy was strong +on the wing and remorseless in purpose. The +poor larks, with hearts fluttering wildly, were +becoming feeble and less alert. The next second +the hawk would seize one of its prey. The little +bird gave an agonised chirp, dropped like a stone +to the ground, and changed into Dulcie, affrighted +and panting for breath. She looked anxiously upwards. +Her pursuer, baulked, turned and darted +upon its second quarry. Too late! Cyril had +taken the strong hint, had also Wished, and now +stood in safety on the ground beside her.</p> + +<p>"Come on!" he shouted to the surprised and +baffled enemy. "Come on now, and I'll wring +your ugly neck!"</p> + +<p>But the bird didn't wait to accept his polite +invitation; and a moment later it was out +of sight, and out of mind, and the children<span class="pagenum">[25]</span> +found they were again alone in the beautiful +glade.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to be a bird any more," said +Dulcie when she had recovered her composure.</p> + +<p>"No, it's too risky," admitted her brother. +"When that big dark thing came in sight there +was so little time to think what to do. That +second, too," he added with a shudder, "when I +thought the brute had got you, was too awful!"</p> + +<p>She felt quite important now at having gone +through such peril.</p> + +<p>"I could never have imagined that birds had +such a lot to put up with," mused Cyril as they +walked on—"hunger and suffering, with the risk +any moment of being gobbled up!"</p> + +<p>"There ought to be some one to take care of +the poor things," remarked Dulcie. "If it hadn't +been for the catseyes we should have been eaten +up and ended like that." She glanced at the +bracelet on her wrist and added, with a timid +look at her brother, "It seems safer as we are."</p> + +<p>"Bosh!" he rejoined. "We want adventures. +That's what we're going for—and freedom. We +had a ripping time as larks—till the end. It certainly +wasn't very comfortable then."</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[26]</span> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE LOST CATSEYE</p> + +<p>Something was in their path; the Twins stooped +to examine it and found it to be a Hedgehog +standing on its hind legs, motionless, as though +waiting for somebody, and a smile was upon the +face of that Hedgehog. All at once a Porcupine +sprung up beside it, as if out of the earth, and +the two appeared on the very best of terms.</p> + +<p>"I <i>must</i> get to know what they are talking +about," exclaimed Dulcie. "They seem to me to +be arguing about something interesting. Oh, I +do wish I could be all ears and understand them! +If only I were something as small as a mole!" +Before Cyril could remonstrate a mole she was, +went off blindly, and was quickly lost to view +amongst the thick brushwood.</p> + +<p>"I say! I do call that <i>mean</i>," he complained. +"Without even so much as asking my advice +or saying good-bye. It's silly to become a stupid +mole; it's a waste of a catseye. And all on account +of a beastly spikey hedgehog and a beastly<span class="pagenum">[27]</span> +prickly porcupine. Halloa! Wherever have you +all got to?"</p> + +<p>Out of humour, he looked right and left. They +were nowhere to be seen. "I hope she will soon +come to her senses!" he muttered. "It isn't +much fun being left like this."</p> + +<p>He lay down on his back to await her, and +kicked up his legs in the air as a pastime, whilst +the tall trees above him waved their upper branches +in the breeze. His glittering bracelet caught his +attention, causing his thoughts to drift on adventures +past and to come. He looked harder at it, +and becoming concerned he carefully counted the +missing catseyes. He had only wished to be a +lark, and to be himself. Yet <span class="smcap">THREE</span> were gone! +The two first—and the <i>last</i> one! "Could this," +he asked himself, "be some dreadful trick of the +Wizard's—likely to occur at the last?" Cyril +turned pale at the possibility. "Or could that +last one have become loose and got lost?" he +pondered. If so, he realised that it must be +found. The thought about the Wizard worried +him. He was uneasy, too, about Dulcie, and sat +up eagerly listening for her coming, and wondering +what he had better do.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, our little mole had groped its way to +a hole whence could be heard sounds of a quaint +voice. It was that of the Porcupine saying pretty<span class="pagenum">[28]</span> +poetry softly to the accompaniment of a slow +musical titter.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'm a brave and dashing Porcupine—<br></span> +<span class="i2">Strong, elegant, and dandy;<br></span> +<span class="i0">And you a Hedgehog, bright as wine,<br></span> +<span class="i2">And sweet as sugar-candy.<br></span> +<span class="i0">Dear Hedgehog fair, say you'll be mine<br></span> +<span class="i0">And wed the dandy Porcupine!<br></span> +<span class="i2">Dear Hedgehog—bright as currant-wine,<br></span> +<span class="i2">Take me—as strong as brandy,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Be Mrs. Porcupine, I pray—<br></span> +<span class="i0">I've begged so often—don't say nay—<br></span> +<span class="i2">Be Mrs. Porky, sweet and jolly.<br></span> +<span class="i6">Nay—titter not,<br></span> +<span class="i6">Or off I'll trot<br></span> +<span class="i2">And straightway marry Molly."<br></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Ah!" he observed after a long pause, during +which the Hedgehog had remained silent and had +never moved a quill in response, "There goes +Molly the Mole!"</p> + +<p>Molly the Mole, who had distracted his attention, +heeded him not, but went and struck up an acquaintance +with the little stranger in the hole close by. +For some time they remained in close conversation. +It was not at all an amusing conversation, as Dulcie +explained later, and she was not sorry when the +danger of a horse's hoofs galloping nearly on top of +them caused them to run off. They got separated, +and Dulcie was glad to bring herself again into the<span class="pagenum">[29]</span> +possession of her own five senses. Peeping from +behind a tree, she saw Molly and the Hedgehog +walking off together, leaving the Porcupine disconsolate. +And then she beheld a young girl with +short red hair dismount from her horse, walk back +rapidly towards some glittering object, and pick it +up.</p> + +<p>Dulcie recognised at once the curious colouring +of a catseye. She glanced at the bracelet on her +wrist; all was in order there. Could it possibly +belong to Cyril? The thought became a certainty. +"Stop!" she called out loudly.</p> + +<p>Too late—horse and rider were off.</p> + +<p>"Stop! Stop thief!" shouted Dulcie as she ran +after them as fast as she could.</p> + +<p>Now Cyril, who was not the soul of patience at +any time, had come to the conclusion that it was of +no use waiting any longer, and that it would be +better to be up and doing. So he got up and +pondered again and again what to do.</p> + +<p>"Any way I'd better risk it and become a cat," +he decided, "for like that I've more chance of finding +Dulcie, and of finding my catseye. It would be +useful to be able to see in dark corners. But I'll +search about as I am first."</p> + +<p>He spent some time peering and searching in the +Wood. But without success. Neither Dulcie nor +the catseye was to be found.<span class="pagenum">[30]</span></p> + +<p>Just then he heard a noise. He stepped behind +a tree, and peering round from behind it he beheld +not far off a young lady dismount from her horse +and pick up something. Cyril recognised it as his +catseye. He approached timidly to claim it, when +she leapt up and cantered off, evidently not seeing +or hearing the boy who was running, shouting with +lusty lungs: "Stop! Hi! Stop thief!"</p> + +<p>Little did he know that his little sister, almost +exhausted, was further behind gasping out the same +cry—while big tears from helplessness and anxiety +were coursing down her hot cheeks. For the trees +hid the children from view at the distance they were +apart, as well as from the rider; and shout as they +would, their cries could not be heard by one another.</p> + +<p>Cyril soon lost sight of the new owner of the +gem, and didn't know what to do, or where to trace +it, or, still worse, what had become of Dulcie. As +he came to a narrow footpath which branched off +from the main track, he went quickly along it in +the hope that it might prove to be a short cut to +somewhere. As it turned out he was lucky, for it +proved to be a short cut to a Town, and hardly had +he entered one of the streets than at the other end he +saw entering it the rider on her horse. He ran towards +her, but only arrived just as the girl with red hair +disappeared through the door of a large white house, +and the horse was being ridden off by her groom.<span class="pagenum">[31]</span></p> + +<p>So Cyril sauntered on, anxiously meditating how +to get his belonging back. The present possessor +would never believe his tale, or if she did the less +likely would she be to part with a thing so valuable—and +then perhaps only for a hundred pounds. He +concluded he must take it—it was his—at least it +was more his than hers, and his life might depend +upon it. So he decided that the best thing he +could do was to change into a monkey, climb into +the house by one of the open windows, grab the +gem as soon as found, and escape as quickly as he +could.</p> + +<p>But no sooner did the quaint little monkey stand +there than it was pounced upon by a dirty brown +hand, whilst a foreign voice exclaimed—</p> + +<p>"Ah, ha! So dere you are, my leetle friend! +You shall not escape from me again so soon, +Jacko. Ah no!"</p> + +<p>It was a ragged boy with a hurdy-gurdy, who +had caught hold of the little twisting, mouthing +creature and was already getting it into a miniature +soldier's coat with brass buttons. A ludicrous doll's +hat with a long feather upstanding was quickly produced +from his pocket, put on its head, and the +elastic slipped under its chin. A long cord was +whipped out, fixed to the red coat, and a sudden +jerk hitched up the whole arrangement on to the +barrel-organ in a twinkling.<span class="pagenum">[32]</span></p> + +<p>Now Dulcie had also taken the short cut into +the Town, and was just going to enter a large +garden in order to rest her weary limbs after +her useless chase, when the boy and monkey +attracted her attention and she stopped. She +would have laughed, so comic was the sight, but +filled with concern at a rough jerk she cried: +"Oh, please don't. You'll hurt it. Do let it go!"</p> + +<p>"Let go, signorina? Ah no! Me take care +never risk no more. No Jacko, then poor Pietro +starve. Just you watch him, then give poor +Pietro penny. Now, Jacko, we're 'ungry."</p> + +<p>Had Dulcie only known the monkey was not +Jacko, but Cyril, she would have been still more +concerned. The lad turned the handle of the +instrument, and to its cracked tune she was +amused to see the monkey take off its hat with a +jerky movement, replace it, dance about, salute, +and perform other antics in the most approved and +undignified manner.</p> + +<p>The boy pulled his forelock. After much +fumbling Dulcie found a penny and gave it to +him. A sunny smile was on his swarthy face as +he said "Grazia!" He kissed the monkey affectionately, +and putting it in the inner pocket of +his ragged coat, moved away.</p> + +<p>And the monkey, peering out of that pocket, +blinked twice so meaningly at Dulcie that she<span class="pagenum">[33]</span> +stood there and gazed after it, puzzled, whilst the +boy trudged off whistling. Dulcie then found a +shady seat, and having nothing better or more +hopeful to do, determined to rest there. Now, +however, that she had leisure to think it over, +she didn't at all like the loss of that gem. Supposing +by some trick or other of that horrid +Wizard all the rest should drop out and not be +found—at some dreadfully awkward moment! +What would poor Cyril do? And she also might +come to be in the same plight! These thoughts +were too horrible! So she began saying some +poetry she had learnt in order to keep her mind +on other matters.</p> + +<p>She wasn't enjoying herself very much. The +time seemed endless, and a neighbouring clock +which chimed the quarters didn't help it to pass +any faster; and the longer Dulcie waited, the +more anxious she became. She gave up reciting +poetry, or what stood for poetry, and her only +thought became: "If only Cyril would come +back!" In her fear she began to give up hope of +his ever coming back at all, and decided to try +and discover if there were such a thing as a +policeman about, to whom she might confide her +troubles.</p> + +<p>Suddenly there arose a hullabaloo. Such a barking +and rushing, and the next moment a large<span class="pagenum">[34]</span> +black cat sprang on the seat beside her, frightening +her very much. There was a terrified shriek—a +gratified Wish—and Cyril found himself on a bench +next Dulcie with a great hound clinging to his +sailor collar at the back.</p> + +<p>With a cry of fear she helped him in his +struggles to get free; the animal, astonished and +abashed, slunk away with its tail between its legs, +and the brother and sister fell into one another's +arms. Never before had they known how fond +they were of one another—for never had they been +so pleased to meet again.</p> + +<p>"I waited so patiently," said Dulcie; she didn't +add anything about thoughts of a friendly policeman, +but inquired quickly—</p> + +<p>"Do you know you've lost your catseye?"</p> + +<p>He nodded and grinned.</p> + +<p>"Have you got it?"</p> + +<p>He parted his lips. It was between his teeth. +He pressed it back into the empty setting of his +bracelet, saying—</p> + +<p>"I'd no time to wish sooner. I'll never set Towser +to chase our poor little Miranda again, you bet! +How horrid it must be to be a permanent cat!"</p> + +<p>"However did you get it back?"</p> + +<p>"Hallo! Hi!" was all she got in answer, and +the next moment he was pommelling into, and +being pommelled by, a lanky youth.<span class="pagenum">[35]</span></p> + +<p>"I'll teach you—to shy stones—at a—poor +defenceless—cat," gasped Cyril, hitting out right +and left, his face scarlet, and his hair all ruffled. +How they did go for one another! First one was +down and the other on top; then the pair, all legs +and arms, were the other way up; then they rolled +together over and over, till at last Cyril had won +a brilliant victory before he allowed Dulcie to drag +him away from the defeated adversary, who, as +soon as he was free, slunk off miserably, with one +hand to his eye and his handkerchief to his +nose.</p> + +<p>"I'm all right," exclaimed Cyril, in answer to +her anxious inquiry, shaking himself into order. +"That <i>was</i> a lark! No—I'm not hurt, not really. +Served him jolly!"</p> + +<p>Dulcie noticed that he had a lump on his +forehead from the fray.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you won the fight with that boy, +but I don't know what it was about one little +bit. And, Cyril, aren't these adventures rather +too—too dangerous, don't you think?"</p> + +<p>"Of course they're not, they're awfully jolly."</p> + +<p>"Now tell me all about it from the very beginning," +said his sister as they strolled off together. +So Cyril gave her a spirited record of his adventures +whilst she listened eagerly, anxious not to +miss a single word.<span class="pagenum">[36]</span></p> + +<p>"I'll begin at the beginning," he said. "Well, +the funny monkey—me, you know——"</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i>, Cyril?" and Dulcie gasped with surprise.</p> + +<p>"Yes; don't interrupt, there's a dear. I quite +enjoyed my little performance on the organ before +you. But by the second and third time I had +to do it I got sick and tired of it. The weather +seemed to turn cold and made me shiver. Then +I got fearfully hungry—coppers were given me, +but no food did I get, and I felt I had had enough +of the business. The boy's pocket, too, was +draughty—there was a hole in it—besides which +I got the cramp. It wouldn't have been much +use trying to escape. Besides, the monkey idea +was all wrong, for people were passing all the +time, and, had they noticed a free monkey on +the track of a catseye, a crowd would have collected, +and perhaps that grinning idiot might have +gone for me again. I couldn't very well change +to myself inside of his jacket, nor during a performance +in public, as it might have attracted +attention. So I was obliged to wait for my +chance, which came at last when he picked up +an end of a cigarette and after begging a match +was busy lighting it at a sheltered corner. I was +on the pavement in a minute, managed to slip +out of my idiotic red coat to which the cord was +attached, flung off that absurd hat, and remembering<span class="pagenum">[37]</span> +my first idea I changed into a cat, calmly +sat down on the inner side of some area railings, +and peered through to watch the fun."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and what happened then?" interrupted +Dulcie excitedly.</p> + +<p>"Well, you never saw such a face as that boy's +when he found the monkey's coat and hat on the +ground without any monkey inside of them! He +said some foreign words and commenced running +about hunting for me everywhere, whilst I trotted +off before his very eyes. Ha, ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>His sister pealed with laughter and delight.</p> + +<p>"As quickly as possible I reached the big house +where I had seen the girl with the red hair go in +after she had picked up my catseye."</p> + +<p>"I saw her pick it up, too," broke in Dulcie.</p> + +<p>But Cyril went on: "The windows were still +open. I jumped up from the balcony on to a +stone ledge, and then by good luck right into the +bedroom of that bothersome young lady. She was +reading a book. We did startle one another!</p> + +<p>"'Oh, you darling sweet pussikins!' she said. +'Ah,' I thought, 'not so darling as all that.' +And the next moment I was lifted clumsily on to +her lap and stroked and patted, whilst I looked +anxiously around for my catseye in the intervals—when +she wasn't kissing my nose, which was disturbing +and uncomfortable, and girls do like kissing<span class="pagenum">[38]</span> +so. Then I saw it gleaming on the dressing-table +close to the window all the time, and I became impatient. +The stupid baby language and kisses +bothered me, so I stopped it by giving her face an +ugly scratch."</p> + +<p>"Oh, how rude!" exclaimed Dulcie, shocked.</p> + +<p>"Whereupon she gave me an angry slap, which +I didn't feel a bit through the fur, and pushed me +down roughly on the floor, looked at her face in +the glass, and then I heard her bathing it in the +dressing-room. I say! had I changed then, +wouldn't she have been jolly surprised to find a +strange boy in there! So, remaining her darling +pussikins," he continued with a smile, "I just +jumped on the table, took hold of my catseye in +my mouth, and escaped by the window before she +returned, and waved my tail in good-bye—stupid +things, tails!" With a laugh, which was echoed +by Dulcie, Cyril, grown serious again, went on +with his narrative:</p> + +<p>"But just as I alighted on the ground a boy +began shying stones at me, which it was awfully +difficult to dodge. One of them caught me such +a whack on the side, and he laughed and shouted +'Hurrah, got him!'—Wasn't I glad when I saw +him just now!—Well, I was just going to change +then, when there was a great barking, and a whole +lot of dogs seemed to be bearing down on me. I<span class="pagenum">[39]</span> +thought I'd make myself scarce, so I tore off, and +as they were on my track I simply cut. I flew +along the muddy streets with the whole pack at +my heels, with shouts and laughter ringing in my +ears, scampering past them, past houses, past traffic, +whizzing along for my life with the barking din +and the pattering feet always following. At last, +as a last hope, I dodged round, doubled back, the +noise stopped, and I took refuge in a quiet garden, +awfully puffed, and jumped on a seat next some one +resting there."</p> + +<p>"Me," said Dulcie, with a sigh of relief.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I found it was you, Sis. I Wished, and +you're a trump, for I was tired, and you rid me +of that big dog." Dulcie glowed with pride and +pleasure at that. "I never knew, though, that +that brute was following me. Fortunately for me +he gripped hold of the bracelet round my neck."</p> + +<p>"How well you tell a story, Cyril," she said simply.</p> + +<p>Cyril smiled contentedly. "That's nothing."</p> + +<p>Then she inquired anxiously: "Do you think +it was the Wizard's trick, that losing of the stone?"</p> + +<p>"P'raps," replied Cyril musingly. "He's quite +ugly enough for anything. But I don't think so," +he added reassuringly; "it must have been an accident—got +loose, or something."</p> + +<p>Dulcie's mind being eased, she then told her +own story as a mole. She couldn't remember the<span class="pagenum">[40]</span> +Porcupine's verses exactly, but she repeated what +she could, and they had a good laugh over them;—before, +she had been blind to the fun in them. "I +repeated them to Molly," continued Dulcie, rippling +over with fun, "and she was so offended she vowed +she'd never marry him. So I cured him of his +vanity—and serve him right!"</p> + +<p>"But why did the Hedgehog titter? That was +what you wanted to find out, wasn't it?" asked +Cyril.</p> + +<p>"I suppose it was expecting the Porcupine's +verses."</p> + +<p>"Suppose?"</p> + +<p>"I forgot to ask."</p> + +<p>Cyril expressed his opinion that she had been +a softy, that those creatures weren't worth while +chumming up with, and they couldn't have much +sense, and it didn't matter, after all, what they +thought or did.</p> + +<p>"I shan't tell you any more, then," replied Dulcie, +offended.</p> + +<p>"Yes, do," begged Cyril, curious to know the +end. So after he had begged three times, she gave +way, and informed him she was glad never to have +been born a mole, for Molly was in terribly low +spirits and had apologised for them, but the reason +was because all her family's skins had been taken +off their backs in order to keep fashionable ladies<span class="pagenum">[41]</span> +from taking cold—as these ladies seemed to think +that it was a prettier and warmer skin than their +own. And Molly hourly expected each moment +to be her last—and advised her new-found friend +to prepare for the same fate—which was all very +terrifying. "So I made haste to wish to be my +own self again," concluded Dulcie.</p> + +<p>Cyril made her promise faithfully never again to +run off like a mole or anything else, which—being +only too anxious to avoid another separation—she +willingly did.</p> + +<p>"The poor animals," she remarked earnestly, +"all seem so helpless. There's no one ever to +take their part or help them."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you think that because we've not yet +changed into something really great," answered +Cyril with conviction.</p> + +<p>"What a gloomy looking place we've come to! +I was so interested listening and talking, I didn't +notice the way we've come," broke in his sister, +gazing at what appeared like a Jungle in front of +them. "Surprising how we got here, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"I never noticed either, but it'll do beautifully," +replied the boy, quite satisfied.</p> + +<p>"But it doesn't seem very nice to be a Beast," +argued Dulcie reflectively, her thoughts harking +back; "somehow it's so unpeaceful."</p> + +<p>"I tell you that's because we haven't tried<span class="pagenum">[42]</span> +anything great," repeated her brother with an +emphatic movement of his hand and a decided +toss of his head. "<i>If</i>," he said, and hesitated—"<i>if</i> +we were lions" (he waited, then finding they were +both as they were he went on, reassured), "then +we would know what it is to rule everybody, keep +our friends in order, and eat up our enemies."</p> + +<p>"But I don't want to eat up any one," protested +Dulcie. "I think it would be very disagreeable."</p> + +<p>"I should think it must taste rather nice—<i>they</i> +like it. Besides, one never knows till one tries," +remarked her brother. "I want to be a <i>lion</i>!!"</p> + +<p>At once the King of Beasts confronted Dulcie. +With a shriek she tore away as fast as her small +feet could scamper. Then she changed her mind. +And as a lioness, full of courage, she rejoined him.</p> + +<p>Grand beasts they were as they bounded into +the Jungle with a mighty roar. Startled creatures +hurried out of their path, and the very landscape +appeared insignificant in their presence. Monarchs +of all they surveyed! This at last was splendid +freedom.</p> + +<p>At a river, sparkling like glass in the burning +sun, they stopped and slaked their thirst, lapping +up the water greedily. Then they turned again +into the tangle of vegetation and laid themselves +down to rest.</p> + +<p>Purring with delight in the hot sunshine, they<span class="pagenum">[43]</span> +lazily lashed their tails. The lion was just dozing +when he was roused by something heavy and strong +winding itself in great coils around his limbs and +body. He gave forth a roar half of anger, half +of fear. Struggle as he would he could not +free himself; it was a huge boa-constrictor that +was closing about him like bands of iron, and +was just about to crush him to death when the +lion disappeared and a little boy in a blue serge +suit wriggled away, sobbing out: "Oh, Mother! +Dulcie!"</p> + +<p>Just then Cyril's eye caught sight of a rifle +pointed from a neighbouring tree. To his horror +it was aimed straight at the recumbent, lazily-blinking +lioness. His heart stood still with terror. +He could neither scream nor stir. Quite forgotten +was the huge reptile, which had jerked back +its head in astonishment at the remarkable disappearance +of its quarry, with an undulating +movement of surprise in that part of its anatomy +which might be termed its neck. But now the +creature was quite close to the lad and rearing +itself up to strike at him when—crack! crack! +crack! Bullets were whizzing all around. Cyril, +bewildered, stumbled over the dead body of the +reptile and fell to the ground. The next moment +he felt Dulcie's hair over his face as she pulled him +on to his feet.<span class="pagenum">[44]</span></p> + +<p>"Great snakes!" exclaimed Lord Algy. Captain +Waring, who was eagerly peering through the +branches of another tree close by, laughed as he +rejoined, "Only one, my friend."</p> + +<p>"Eh, what? Well I'm—" drawled his lordship, +craning his neck and letting his eyeglass +drop and dangle—he had stopped short in his +sentence, not seeming quite to realise what he +was. "By Jove!" he now added, "I certainly +thought I hit one of those two fine brutes; most +remarkable thing I ever saw in my life."</p> + +<p>"<i>Didn't</i> see, you mean, my dear Algy," replied +the Captain coolly and not without vexation. "<i>I've</i> +seen a dead serpent before. Where have they +moved to? that's the question: we shall have to +track them again. A dead snake in the grass is +not worth two fine lions in the Jungle."</p> + +<p>"No, my dear fellow, I don't think so either—I +agree with you there—it's quite the contrary, +of course," remarked his lordship with a certain +amount of energy.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Dulcie and Cyril, with white, scared +faces, were fleeing hand in hand like pixies among +the trees.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[45]</span> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<p class="h3">IN THE FISH-KING'S REALM</p> + +<p>It was only when they reached a meadow full of +wild flowers, and the Twins, worn out with their +long run, lay down to rest, that Dulcie remarked +with a sigh of relief—</p> + +<p>"We never do seem to be so safe as when we +are us!"</p> + +<p>"We won't be Birds nor Beasts any more," +replied Cyril. "Hark! What's that snoring so +loud?"</p> + +<p>"It's not snoring. I believe it's the waves!" +Saying which Dulcie jumped up and Cyril did the +same. The children found the meadow they were +in was on a cliff, and that below were far-reaching +sands, and in the distance heaved the glorious deep +blue sea.</p> + +<p>They clapped their hands and danced with +delight, and when that performance was over they +carefully descended the steps cut in the face of the +cliff which led down to the shore.</p> + +<p>Very soon their shoes and stockings were slung +round their necks, and they were running over the<span class="pagenum">[46]</span> +hot sand to where the wavelets came rippling to +meet their little feet.</p> + +<p>So immersed were they in paddling that it was +a little time before they noticed some one sitting +amongst the rocks which peeped out of the surface +of the ocean a short distance away. A hand was +beckoning to them, and thinking it might be some +one who wanted help, Cyril declared he would +go to the rescue, and began to wade towards the +spot.</p> + +<p>Dulcie, fearful of his going alone, and not +wishing to be left behind in the adventure, hurried +next to him. The current was rather strong and +the water got deeper as they went; but they +didn't think of their clothes (which were no longer +wholly dry), but only of the rescue. When they +reached the rocks they found to their surprise +a very quaint figure calmly seated there, who +motioned them in a very grand manner to a place +on each side of him. "Pray be seated. Good +morning!"</p> + +<p>"Good morning!" exclaimed the visitors politely, +taking the places indicated.</p> + +<p>"Good afternoon!" said the Fish-King. "Do +you mind holding my crown one moment, my +dear?"</p> + +<p>Dulcie took it with awe. He was a very fine +gentleman indeed, and the two children couldn't<span class="pagenum">[47]</span> +help staring at him as he smoothed his hair in +silence. He was short and stout, in a costume not +unlike that of Harlequin in the pantomime, only +the colouring was green and blue. His goggle +green eyes and wide, down-drawn mouth made +him look comically like a carp, whilst the pointed +wisp of white beard on his chin and the four long +white hairs he was winding round his bald head +were not really an improvement to his appearance.</p> + +<p>"Thank you kindly, my dear," he said as he +took his crown and put it on. It was beautifully +made, entirely of the loveliest small shells, and +when he wore it he looked every inch just what +he happened to be.</p> + +<p>In spite of his queer face, the two visitors felt +quite at ease with him, and were sure that with +such a pleasant voice, too, he must be very nice +indeed.</p> + +<p>"What are you King of?" inquired Dulcie +with a friendly smile.</p> + +<p>"Of the fish," he answered, patting her cheek. +"I'm right glad to see you."</p> + +<p>Suddenly remembering, the little couple at once +donned their shoes and stockings as a sign of +respect.</p> + +<p>"It's very healthy, I suppose," remarked Dulcie, +"living out at sea like this?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so, my lady," answered the Fish-King<span class="pagenum">[48]</span> +drily. Dulcie liked being called "my lady." +"Except," he continued thoughtfully, "for an +occasional attack of shingles I don't ail much." +Then turning to Cyril he asked: "How's that old +rascal of a Wizard? laughing in his dressing-gown, +eh?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry I don't know, your Majesty," replied +the boy, surprised at the question and the way it +was put.</p> + +<p>"You will soon get to know me. I only hope +you may not be disappointed. You certainly +wouldn't have been disappointed with my ancestor."</p> + +<p>"Who's your ancestor?" asked Dulcie bluntly. +"Was he a King-fisher too?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all. He was Neptune."</p> + +<p>"Where did he live?"</p> + +<p>"In Imagination."</p> + +<p>"Where's that?"</p> + +<p>Cyril raised his eyebrows at her lack of manners.</p> + +<p>"You turn to the right," answered his Majesty +patiently, with a gesture that way, "follow your +nose, mount a hill north of the Fore Head, and +there you are. See?"</p> + +<p>The Twins couldn't think what answer to make—though +he seemed to expect one—so they gave +a little nervous laugh.</p> + +<p>"Just see, there's a dear boy," said the Fish-King<span class="pagenum">[49]</span> +kindly, in order to change the subject—"just +see if you've got a copy of the <i>Financial Market</i> +about you, will you? Or maybe you know what +the Financial Time is? That would do quite as +well. Oh, beg pardon—I see you've no watch on; +pawnbroken, eh?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean; I've +never heard of all that," admitted Cyril.</p> + +<p>"But you <i>have</i> heard there's been another +slump!"</p> + +<p>"What?" ventured Dulcie.</p> + +<p>"In what? Why, in Seaweed, of course. Just +my luck. Fishy transactions never do pay, though +they always promise to. But," he added, rousing +himself, dismal still, "you must both come down +soon and have a cup of sea or something—it's my +birthday, and there's going to be jinks below."</p> + +<p>"Birthday! How delightful!" said Dulcie.</p> + +<p>"Why, how old can you possibly be?" asked +Cyril, "if it's not impolite to ask."</p> + +<p>"Quite right. Let me see," said the Fish-King +thoughtfully. "Ah, now I remember. I'm just +several millions of years—it takes a little time to +fix the number exactly—and eleven days."</p> + +<p>"That <i>is</i> old, Sire," murmured Dulcie as she +regained her breath, which had been taken away +at the idea of so many birthdays.</p> + +<p>"Old? Nonsense, my lady."<span class="pagenum">[50]</span></p> + +<p>"How can it be 'and eleven days' if it's your +birthday, your Worship?" asked Cyril, thinking +he'd go one better than Sire.</p> + +<p>"Because, my Philosopher, I prefer the new-fangled +Calendar which puts one on eleven days; +in that way, when I'm told I don't look my age, I +know it's true, and not flattery. See?"</p> + +<p>The children were not quite satisfied with the +explanation. Nevertheless, they were pleased to +find it the most natural thing in the world to be +getting chummy with a Fish-King.</p> + +<p>"Now, do come below waves and have a cup of +sea or something," he repeated, looking appealingly +first at one and then at the other.</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much," replied his little +guests. "But," said the cautious Dulcie, "sha'n't +we be drownded?"</p> + +<p>"You both have your catseyes on, I presume?" +And his Majesty stared anxiously in their faces. +"Yes, I see you have. Very well, then. Sit steady! +Halloa there," shouting downwards. "Lift, please!" +Then muttering, "It's high time we went," he +smiled. His smile was so unutterably comic that +it was to a merry burst of childish laughter that all +the rocks descended as quickly as the tide rose +above them, and the trio, smiling still, found +themselves gently deposited at the bottom of the +Ocean.<span class="pagenum">[51]</span></p> + +<p>"Wonderful thing water pressure!" remarked +the Fish-King. Then, helping them off the rocks, +he added with a gracious wave of the hand, +"Welcome to my Domain!" And the Twins +bowed so prettily that he appeared much gratified.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he said, taking them by the hand and +stopping still, "I see Fido. Fido, Fido!" At his +call a fine dog-fish came forward at a fast swim; +and its head was patted graciously, whilst its tail +wagged with contentment. "Now," resumed his +Majesty, "we'll go to the Revels;" and they proceeded +at a smart walk as buoyantly through the +clear water as through air.</p> + +<p>The sea-scape was perfectly beautiful, but as the +Fish-King once more seemed deep in melancholy, +the Twins gazed silently around. They were +evidently walking along the King's Road, for it +was wide enough to walk three abreast; the sand +was so fine and glittering that it looked like gold +dust; the path was bordered by exquisite shells. +On either side were gardens of variegated anemones. +Here and there an old sodden boot lay about untidily, +at which the Fish-King frowned and looked +uneasy. They passed oyster beds, where, besides +oysters, all sorts of fish, large and small, were fast +asleep, breathing heavily with their mouths wide +open. Now and again a squadron of lobsters or +jelly-fish would confront them, and respectfully<span class="pagenum">[52]</span> +divide and wait until the royal procession of three +had passed through.</p> + +<p>At last they came to a great object ahead which +turned out to be a sunken ship, and the children +heard the Fish-King say: "Welcome, my dears, +to my home! I hope your visit to 'The Billows' +will please you." They eagerly assured him it +would, for they felt certain they were going to have +a jolly time.</p> + +<p>On board everything was most snug and trim; +and in the large saloon he led his two little guests +to one end of the long table, where they found +biscuits, tinned meats, jam, and other nice things, +which they enjoyed very much, whilst their host +looked on with a satisfied expression.</p> + +<p>"<i>Now</i> will you take a cup of something?" he +asked—and seemed relieved when they declined +with thanks. "I'm a seatotaller myself," he observed; +"I don't drink like a fish, nor go in for cups."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad we said 'No, thank you,'" whispered +Dulcie to Cyril, who nodded assent. "Why are +you so sad, Mr. Fish-King?" she asked when she +had satisfied her hunger, and she stroked his great +flabby hand.</p> + +<p>He didn't answer for a moment, then trying to +twist up his mouth into a smile he said as he roused +himself: "I fear I'm somewhat glum for a birthday +party, but I've had so many of them; besides, I'm +<span class="pagenum">[53]</span>bothered about the slump! One would think Seaweed +safe enough for a vested interest, surely. +From all accounts, they must have been cooked—softly, +too, in the bargain! Can you make it out, +my dears?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="z076" id="z076"></a> +<img src="images/z076.jpg" width="400" height="488" alt="Its head was patted graciously" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Its head was patted graciously</p> + +<p>The Twins couldn't understand it at all, and +shook their heads quite emphatically over the +matter.</p> + +<p>"Now, let's go abaft," suggested his Majesty. +He rose, and looked at them with a ray of cheerfulness. +"We'll watch the Water Sports. I revel +in them when they are good—usually they go bad."</p> + +<p>The children readily agreed. "It's lucky you +happened to come on my birthday," he continued, +"for you may be amused. Here's a list of the different +Courses," and he took up a Menu from the +table: "they'll race through them like old boots!"</p> + +<p>"Do they race better than new ones?" inquired +Cyril.</p> + +<p>"They've more experience," replied his Majesty. +"What is about to begin," he said quite gaily as +they followed him up the gangway, "is—let me see; +ah yes—'Turtle Mocked.' Now just look at Fido"—he +leaned over the side, the Twins did likewise. +"He's turning turtle!" And the three watched +with approval the antics of the dog-fish as he +turned his somersaults; and they applauded this +first item on the programme.<span class="pagenum">[54]</span></p> + +<p>"Next Innings!" shouted his Majesty. "Fish +balls bowled," he read from the Menu. And taking +their plaice, a game of cricket began. "They think +they can play," he whispered, "and that is the way +I humour them, or they might begin to cry, and I +hate anything that reminds me of blubber. But how +can any one in their senses imagine plaice fielding +at slip? Why, they don't know cricket from a +bat—nor never will at this rate, I should think."</p> + +<p>"Once in London, we saw such a lot of fish in +the big shops there," volunteered Dulcie in a burst +of confidence. The next moment she wished she +hadn't spoken, for Cyril was frowning at her and +shaking his head. She glanced timidly at the Fish-King. +He evidently didn't mind, for he merely remarked +with a sigh: "Ah dear! One of these days +my poor subjects will be sucked from the sea +through a 2d. tube, straight to Billingsgate—I +suppose that'll be the time for slumps and no mistake!"</p> + +<p>"I suppress the Sole and Eel Course!" he +cried suddenly. There was a great stir in the water +at this intimation. "It's a dance," he muttered. +"Let's get on with the Cod Stakes." He put down +the Menu and threw overboard some nets and fishing +tackle. Then began a highly amusing exhibition +by old fish showing the young ones how to nibble +the bait without taking the hook, and if taken by<span class="pagenum">[55]</span> +some mischance, how to get unhooked—how to +avoid the nets, and other life-saving dodges which +his Majesty explained to the astonished Twins.</p> + +<p>But hardly had he finished when a fat young +gurnet who was taking part in the sports did get +hooked, and clumsily extricating himself went off +leaving a thin red track behind him.</p> + +<p>"The poor thing is hurt!" exclaimed Dulcie.</p> + +<p>"Oh no," said the King; "a herring-bone stitch +is all that's necessary."</p> + +<p>"I know how to do that," replied Dulcie, "but +I thought it was only used to make dress things +look pretty; I never heard of it for mending fish." +The excitement continued unabated.</p> + +<p>When the revels were over, the little strangers +expressed their enjoyment of the birthday party, +and thought perhaps they ought to be saying +good-bye. Their kind host wouldn't hear of +their going yet—they hadn't even seen the Cable +which he was just going to visit.</p> + +<p>"Who's won the prizes?" asked Cyril as they +got off the ship.</p> + +<p>"I have," replied his Majesty.</p> + +<p>"Not the winners of the races and of the +sports?" said the boy, in amazement.</p> + +<p>"They can't expect to win the races and win the +prizes too. <i>I</i> have won the prizes."</p> + +<p>"What have you won, your Worship?"<span class="pagenum">[56]</span></p> + +<p>"I forget," he answered vaguely. "I've won so +many in all these years, and they get so mis-laid—for +all the world like addled eggs!"</p> + +<p>"But you've only just—" commenced Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Don't tease," said Dulcie, pulling at her +brother's sleeve. And so the matter dropped.</p> + +<p>Whilst Cyril and the Fish-King were talking +about the price the crown might fetch were he +obliged to part with it on account of his recent +financial losses, Dulcie was so busy admiring +the beautiful creatures swimming about, that she +stumbled and fell before her companions could +warn her that the Cable was lying in her path. +She was soon up, and it was the Fish-King now +who was lying prone on the ground, but his attitude +was intentional; he was listening intently. +At a sign from him they did likewise. The billows +overhead were lashing up the spray, and +through the rushing sound could be vaguely +heard: "Number A. 1. Sea Power! Has that +nice little venture proved successful, Sire?"</p> + +<p>It was the Wizard's voice. The Twins stared +at one another with startled eyes.</p> + +<p>"No, thou Cabalistic One," shouted the Fish-King, +and got up with an impatient sigh, so he +didn't hear what sounded like the echo of mocking +laughter which the children recognised before +they rejoined him. "Some one's at the bottom of<span class="pagenum">[57]</span> +that business, I'll be bound," he grumbled. "I'm +afraid I'm too green, and ye gods and little fishes +alone know how I manage to be, for I've a fit of +the blues often enough," and he glanced at the +garment he wore. "Now come and inspect my +Workhouse." He led them away in silence to a +small lugger, also wrecked, commandeered by his +Majesty.</p> + +<p>"What a lot of residences you have, Sire," +remarked Dulcie timidly, realising the situation.</p> + +<p>"One must, if one is a royalty," he replied. "I +have even more than the German Emperor. I've +one for eating in. One for thinking in. One for +not thinking in. And a host of others. There is +one which takes me eighteen hours to reach, where +I go at cradle time, where the waves hush me to +sleep with their lullaby—you have heard it—'Rocked +in the Cradle of the Deep,' eh?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," assented the Twins readily.</p> + +<p>His glum face slightly relaxed, then he continued: +"It's always a matter of interest to me when my +ship comes home. I don't whistle for it; I squall +for it. Look out for squalls, for I feel restless, and +in my family carping is our form of humour."</p> + +<p>Once inside the cabin of the lugger the Fish-King +took an immense ruler, and sitting upon +the table in front of a high heap of foolscap +began ruling one wave after another. Absorbed<span class="pagenum">[58]</span> +in his occupation, his mouth tightly drawn down, +he looked more than ever like a carp. He kept +on ruling the waves, heeding neither the little +coughs, the little fidgetings, or the little hints, +entreaties, regrets, or excuses of the Twins, until, +exasperated at his sudden and unaccountable oblivion +to their existence, they murmured broken +words of thanks for his past kindness, and, not a little +indignant, they walked out of the cabin, jumped +over the side of the ship, and swam upwards. They +met many a quaint creature, and then diving below +they rested in a quiet spot again amongst beautiful +shells—at last in peaceful calmness at the +bottom of the sea, alone with the heaving waves +palpitating far above them.</p> + +<p>Talking over the strange conduct of the Fish-King, +it occurred to Cyril that the fact of parting +from them risked reminding him of blubber, which +he hated, as he had told them before, so he must +have preferred ignoring them altogether, especially +as he had work to do. But Dulcie thought perhaps +they might see him again when he was not so busy.</p> + +<p>"It must be rather jolly being a crowned head," +mused Cyril; "I vote we have a shy at another +catseye, so as to have a gorgeous crown and boss +everything and everybody."</p> + +<p>Dulcie, dazzled at such a magnificent prospect, +readily agreed.<span class="pagenum">[59]</span></p> + +<p>"I wish I were a crowned head!" exclaimed +Cyril excitedly.</p> + +<p>"I wish I were a crowned head!" repeated +Dulcie with fervour.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 503px;"> +<a name="z084" id="z084"></a> +<img src="images/z084.jpg" width="503" height="423" alt="They met many a quaint creature" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">They met many a quaint creature</p> + +<p>They stared at one another. No change had +come. Dulcie was the first to understand their +failure.</p> + +<p>"Of course not," she remarked. "How stupid +of us! It's a Bird, Beast, or Fish we have to +choose, not a crowned head!"<span class="pagenum">[60]</span></p> + +<p>So her brother, to change the subject, drew her +attention to an eel that was trying to turn head +over ... wriggling in a very upside down +fashion. Tired of watching it, they lay chest +downwards, and, supporting themselves on their +elbows, kicked up their own heels.</p> + +<p>"Do you believe there is such a thing as a Sea-serpent, +little Sis?" inquired Cyril lazily.</p> + +<p>"I believe there are sometimes, when they are in +season."</p> + +<p>"Well, I can tell you there are <i>not</i>. And the +only season they <i>are</i> in is the Silly Season. Father +says so."</p> + +<p>"It's so lovely down here, and you're spoiling it +all, Cyril, by arguing. I do think it would be nice," +she added, glancing round, "to be an oyster and have +a real pearl! I wished I possessed a real pearl!"</p> + +<p>"Shut up," cried Cyril. But to his annoyance he +found his sister already gone, and a stupid-looking, +closed-up oyster in her place, out of which he could +not get a glimmer of satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"You <i>have</i> shut up and no mistake!" he said +severely, "in the middle of a conversation too." +However, she was soon at his side again, and looked +very sorry.</p> + +<p>"Well, what was it like?" was his laconic welcome, +accompanied by a glance of disapproval.</p> + +<p>"Not at all nice. I didn't want to remain<span class="pagenum">[61]</span>—although +I possessed a magnificent pearl. I felt so +horribly ill—as though I had some dreadful disease. +What a life pearl-oysters must have if they feel like +that!"</p> + +<p>"I've heard pearls <i>is</i> a disease."</p> + +<p>"Then how horrid of you to let me have it. You +ought to have told me."</p> + +<p>"How could I? You were in such a hurry. I +couldn't do anything. You were just the same over +that wretched mole. I do wish you wouldn't go off +like that again; you know you promised you +wouldn't."</p> + +<p>"I forgot. But it's the Wishes that go off so +quick."</p> + +<p>"I say! Where was your bracelet, Dulcie, when +you were an oyster?"</p> + +<p>"Don't know," she answered, pondering. "I +s'pose it must have melted. Oh yes, of course I remember—it +had grown very small, and formed a sort +of little boundary all round me inside my shell; it's +here all right now. I can't think—let me see, what +were we talking about before I went away? There +was something I was going to tell you. What <i>were</i> +we talking about, Cyril?"</p> + +<p>"Sea-serpents."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes. Well, I was going to tell you, there +must be Sea-serpents, 'cos you remember it being in +the papers and our seeing a picture of one."<span class="pagenum">[62]</span></p> + +<p>"But that was all stuff and nonsense."</p> + +<p>"No it wasn't."</p> + +<p>"Well, look here, we'll soon find out, little Duffer. +I wish I were a Sea-serpent!"</p> + +<p>"I'm not a Duffer, after all," was Dulcie's first +thought as Cyril vanished into what looked like the +end of a wriggling tail—a tail so long that it stretched +right out of view, and she realised this must be part +of her own brother. It was slowly moving away.</p> + +<p>"Don't go and leave me," she cried appealingly, +clutching hold of the great scaly thing. But it moved +quicker, dragging her along. So, in her anxiety she +clambered on top of it, sat down, and found to her +surprise that its undulating movement of progress +formed a regular switchback, and that she was travelling +along its back towards its head in a most pleasant +and delightful manner.</p> + +<p>"What a funny thing to happen!" And she +laughed. "But whatever will occur when I get to +the end! And what yards and yards of him there +seem to be!"</p> + +<p>All this she wondered and heaps more, till at last +she saw the creature's huge neck looming high up in +front of her; when she got there it stopped her progress. +It turned its head round—which resembled +that of a giraffe—and its mild eyes looked kindly at +her; and what was most comic, yet comforting, it +wore a nose-ring of gold set with catseyes.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 323px;"> +<a name="z088" id="z088"></a> +<img src="images/z088.jpg" width="323" height="600" alt="What a glorious ride that was!" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">What a glorious ride that was!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[63]</span></p> + +<p>She patted its neck affectionately; and then with +a mighty glide of long duration the huge creature +took her up, up, until, with her still on its back, +gracefully reclining against its neck, the Sea-serpent +arose with her above the surface of the Ocean.</p> + +<p>Certainly, no one now would have taken them +for twins.</p> + +<p>What a glorious ride that was! Nothing around +but the wild surging spray, the wind blowing in her +face, brightening her cheeks, and tossing her fair hair +about. Above, the clouds, dark and heavy, tore +along—everywhere movement, reckless, turbulent +movement.</p> + +<p>What a wild ride it was!</p> + +<p>Far, far in the distance appeared a dark speck. As +it came nearer it turned out to be a ship with broken +mast, broken by the waves which leaped over its +deck again and again. People were on it, for shouts +came from it borne along on the wind.</p> + +<p>A fearful squall arose as from the very bosom of +the Ocean. Lightning played around the doomed +ship. Half blinded by it, and bewildered by the +deafening noise of thunder, Dulcie just caught a +glimpse of the Fish-King in the water near, before +burying her face in her hands to escape the blinding +glare of the second flash. Starting suddenly +at the terrifying clap of thunder that followed, she +lost her balance and fell off the Sea-serpent's back<span class="pagenum">[64]</span> +headlong into the surging waters. For some time +she was tossed about, sometimes swimming, sometimes +floating, enjoying the excitement of the +thing, knowing she couldn't drown, and expecting +every moment to see something of her huge brother, +when all of a sudden she found herself right in the +middle of a shoal of fish.</p> + +<p>She was startled to find, too, that like them, she +had been caught in a large net from which, swim +and search as she would, she could find no means +of escape. Restlessly with her fellow-captives she +turned this way and that in vain hope of freedom. +She knew she must be adding to the salt water +around, for she felt so miserably helpless and lonely, +and a heavy sob now and again escaped her. Here +indeed was a lack of freedom and no mistake, for +the poor fish as well as for herself! Never, never +again, she said to herself, would she beg for fish for +tea if this was what they had to endure. Round +and round inside the net she swam, backwards, forwards, +upwards, downwards—no outlet was there. +If only she could find the way she got in! The +thread was so hard and strong, too, that she could +do nothing, tear at it with her little hands as she +would. She had nothing sharp about her either, +not even a pin.</p> + +<p>The sea became calmer by degrees, but Dulcie's +anxiety grew, and her impatience with it, till the<span class="pagenum">[65]</span> +sound of men's voices from above raised her excitement +to fever pitch.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, oh dear! It must be the fisher +people!" And the thought that the little swimming +creatures darting about in terrified jerks +would soon be motionless for ever, helped to increase +her distress.</p> + +<p>"Hold hard, Bill. Ain't it heavy!" said a gruff +voice.</p> + +<p>"My missus won't be sorry," answered his mate.</p> + +<p>The net was actually being hauled up, and Dulcie, +beating against it with her arms and struggling +hard, was being hauled up with it.</p> + +<p>Her sleeve had got rucked up—the catseyes +glistened.</p> + +<p>"I wish—oh what? I can't think—to be something +very small indeed—oh quick!"</p> + +<p>No change occurred. She could now see the +boat and the men's stooping figures.</p> + +<p>"Oh please, I want to change—I want to be +one of—no, I forgot, they can't get out either—I +wish I were a—a——"</p> + +<p>"Holy St. Patrick!"</p> + +<p>"Bless me, what's that?" exclaimed both men, +glancing down at her.</p> + +<p>"—A periwinkle!" gasped Dulcie faintly.</p> + +<p>The next second the little girl disappeared from +their view and the fishermen rubbed their eyes and<span class="pagenum">[66]</span> +stared at one another with their mouths open. The +big fishes and little were quick to seize that golden +opportunity of their captors' careless handling of +the net—and escaped, down to every jack sprat of +them. And with the gentle murmur of the sea +there mingled noisy and ugly words of baffled hope +and disappointment.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[67]</span> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE MYSTERY OF THE CRAB</p> + +<p>At the base of that Cliff where the wild flowers +grew, the golden sands were still bathed in hot +sunshine, and roughly caressed by the incoming +waves. Upon the crest of one of these a Periwinkle +was borne, and tossed, and flung, until it +was landed high and wet on a soft bed of seaweed. +But not for long—for very soon a little girl arose +from that bed of seaweed, smoothed back her +clinging hair, and cried out with joy as she recognised +her surroundings. It was Dulcie, glad to be +herself once more, and on the same beautiful sands +again; and her first thought was of course for +Cyril.</p> + +<p>She was dripping wet. To wipe her face she +took out her handkerchief, which of course was wet +also. In order to dry it she tied it to a piece of +stick; thus it could serve as a flag, too, which she +could wave to attract Cyril if he were about that +coast, and show him where she was.</p> + +<p>Remembering that, according to some wiseheads, +sea water kindly gives no chills, she had no<span class="pagenum">[68]</span> +fear for herself; so she lay down upon a patch of +nice warm pebbles, of which she took a handful, +and began idly throwing them one by one into the +tide, which was running up to her feet faster than +it retreated at the ebbing of the waves.</p> + +<p>She was beginning to tire of this pastime when—plash! +the last stone she threw fell plump into a +sandy pool, out of which there hurried an enormous +Crab. Dulcie was frightened, for the ugly creature +had espied his disturber and was coming towards +her at a quick amble, sideways. She turned and +fled towards the Cliff, and a turn of the head +showed her that her dreadful pursuer was not far +behind. Up the arduous steps she climbed, stumbling +every now and again in her hurry and excitement—those +steps down which she had tripped so +gaily with her brother. Again she turned to look +behind her, this time with a feeling that here she +must be safe.</p> + +<p>But the great Crab was coming up the steps too. +Flushed and gasping, she arrived at last on top of +the Cliff amongst the wild flowers once more.</p> + +<p>There, too, over the top appeared the terrifying +creature. It was seemingly quite fresh, and was +gaining rapidly upon her, for now she was quite +tired out.</p> + +<p>She could run no more. So poor Dulcie turned, +and facing her pursuer, she cried<span class="pagenum">[69]</span>—</p> + +<p>"Oh, please, please go away—oh <i>do, please</i>!"</p> + +<p>But the ugly Crab never lessened its pace one +bit; it came nearer and nearer—so close that she +could notice how it was shaking all over; and how +repulsive—till—till she saw that it was wearing +something glittering around its body—a band of +gold with one last catseye and the others all gone. +It <i>must</i> be Cyril. Why didn't he change? +Dulcie couldn't imagine. The creature stopped +motionless, and tears were dropping from its ugly +eyes.</p> + +<p>"What can be wrong?" cried Dulcie with a +sob of horror and fear. But she conquered her +fear now that she was persuaded it was Cyril, +and she approached still closer. She stroked it—actually +stroked it—and although it was just a +great horrid Crab the expression it wore was heart-rending.</p> + +<p>"It's the Wizard's trick!" she exclaimed suddenly. +"Poor Cyril's last catseye won't work!" +She never thought how many <i>she</i> still had, for +she was weeping bitterly over her brother in this +dreadful guise, and she could hardly wonder what +the end would be, if this indeed were not the +horrible end of all.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Cyril," she sobbed, addressing it. "Oh, +Cyril, how dreadfully changed you are! Whoever +heard of having a crab for one's brother<span class="pagenum">[70]</span> +If only we had remained Twins all this never +could have happened!" And she walked round +and round it, wringing her hands in despair. But +evidently the poor quaking thing was powerless +to give a shred of comfort, and its whole appearance +was helpless and hopeless in the extreme.</p> + +<p>"It's no use stopping here like this," she decided +at last; "we'd better go on," and not quite +thinking what she was doing, she whistled to it, +as she whistled to Towzer, and they moved slowly +forward—Dulcie, red-eyed and dejected, and the +Crab following her at a side-way amble.</p> + +<p>The strange pair had not proceeded far when +Dulcie musingly muttered—</p> + +<p>"I wish I were a crab too, then of course I +should know all that has happened!"</p> + +<p>Strange to relate, she didn't turn into a crab, but +remained a little girl as usual. She might have +sought the reason of this had not a sight arrested +her attention which caused her to run forward +with a cry of joy. It was the sudden appearance +of the Bird-Fairy, in whose outstretched hand there +glistened a jewel—a catseye; but how different was +its gleam to the one the poor Crab wore. "Take +it," she said hurriedly in her pretty soft voice—"and +listen: I have wrested it from the Wizard, +whose magnetic power succeeded in recovering +one unused, though he had tried for several."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 543px;"> +<a name="z098" id="z098"></a> +<img src="images/z098.jpg" width="543" height="580" alt="She stroked it—actually stroked it" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">She stroked it—actually stroked it</p> +<p><span class="pagenum">[71]</span></p> +<p>"Why did he do it?" interrupted Dulcie innocently.</p> + +<p>"Because he wanted to confuse me, and also to +add one more to his dreadful Zoological Collection. +Now replace the stone quickly and give me the +sham one—for it belongs to the red-haired young +lady, and is stolen property."</p> + +<p>The child busily and anxiously obeyed her +directions.</p> + +<p>"Stolen property?" repeated Dulcie in surprise.</p> + +<p>But the Bird-Fairy had flown away and disappeared. +The Crab had disappeared too. Cyril +stood before her, white and trembling, and the +next second his little sister was safe and snug in +his arms.</p> + +<p>For some time the Twins sat silent, huddled +close together on the variegated carpet of clover, +and cowslips, and poppies, and bluebells.</p> + +<p>"That <i>was</i> awful!" exclaimed Dulcie at last. +Cyril shivered.</p> + +<p>"You saw the Bird-Fairy; did you hear what +she said?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I understood what she said—I s'pose I +understood 'cos she's a Fairy."</p> + +<p>"Well, what do you think of it, Cyril?"</p> + +<p>"I dunno; floors me completely. All I know +is that I shouldn't like to go through that scare +again."<span class="pagenum">[72]</span></p> + +<p>"It was very kind of her, wasn't it?"</p> + +<p>The boy nodded thoughtfully and answered—</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I wonder why she did it!"</p> + +<p>Now Dulcie thought of it, he looked quite dry. +She felt his knees, according to her custom, after +his being out in the rain—he certainly was quite +dry. She said how surprised she was that he +should be so.</p> + +<p>"How did you manage it after being in the +pool?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"It must be running in the sun," he explained.</p> + +<p>It had done the same for her, and her serge +frock was none the worse for the sea water. By +degrees they cheered up. They were so happy +to be together again on that lovely Cliff, with the +sea beyond sparkling so cheerfully in the bright +light as though it wanted to share in their renewed +gaiety.</p> + +<p>"Cyril," said Dulcie, "I'm longing to hear what +happened to you when we were parted so suddenly +in the Ocean during that awful storm."</p> + +<p>"All right," replied Cyril promptly. "When +I looked round and found you were not on my +serpentine back, I didn't know where I was when +you went overboard, and therefore didn't know +a bit where to search for you. I changed into a +crab so as to move about in a small space and +more easily for the purpose. I dodged the nets<span class="pagenum">[73]</span> +which were about—I had learned the lesson we +saw given during those sports——"</p> + +<p>"I wish I had paid more attention," sighed +Dulcie.</p> + +<p>"And was washed ashore," continued her +brother, not heeding the interruption, "right into +that pool where stones came whizzing around; it +was rather beastly. I'm getting used to have +stones shied at me, but that last one was the +best aimed, and caught me a good crack on the +back of my shell and nearly startled me out of it; +it quite startled me out of the water. At the +same moment I caught a glimpse of your handkerchief +with the blue border, and of you racing +off full pelt. I wished to change to myself—nothing +happened. I couldn't make it out. I +wished till I was red all over. Still nothing—nothing. +Then I had an awful feeling that it +was hopeless and I was in the Wizard's power."</p> + +<p>"Poor Cyril!"</p> + +<p>"Then I tore after you, shaking with fright as +much as you were. I thought you were too frightened +to look at me; and that you'd never do so +and never recognise me."</p> + +<p>"But I did!"</p> + +<p>"And you saved me, dear little Sis!" Cyril had +grown quite pink in the face, and was trying to +keep back unmanly tears.<span class="pagenum">[74]</span></p> + +<p>"Did you, too, see the Fish-King during the +storm?" she interrupted, to change the subject.</p> + +<p>"Yes. But he didn't get that ship he was after, +for I stuck my huge self between him and it, and +switchbacked myself when he clung to me, like one +of those bucking horses, so he had no chance."</p> + +<p>"Did he recognise you, do you think?"</p> + +<p>"How could he? I didn't look much like the +Philosopher he knew."</p> + +<p>"How about that ship?"</p> + +<p>"I was glad to see it right itself and drift away; +the cries stopped, and the passengers pointed in my +direction so excitedly."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps they were grateful," suggested his +sister.</p> + +<p>"Or perhaps they thought it was I who had +caused them to toss."</p> + +<p>"But our host—it was scarcely fair to him."</p> + +<p>"He didn't seem to mind. He simply dived +down and disappeared."</p> + +<p>"Now, those people," said Dulcie, "if you saw +them, they must have seen you, and therefore"—with +a wise look—"therefore they are sure to +put you in the newspapers."</p> + +<p>"What a lark!"</p> + +<p>"And people who read about it are sure not to +believe there was seen a real live Sea-serpent, and +wearing a nose-ring, too! And then I s'pose they'll<span class="pagenum">[75]</span> +all be duffers, eh, Cyril? And it'll be called the +Silly Season!"</p> + +<p>Dulcie laughed, and Cyril laughed too, but something +out at sea just then caught his eye. He +jumped up excitedly and began waving his arms +about frantically.</p> + +<p>"Look! look!" he shouted.</p> + +<p>Dulcie, kneeling by his side and shading her eyes +with her hand, saw that old clump of rocks again, +and upon them stood his Majesty the Fish-King +waving his crown at them. The tide rose higher +and higher. He made three low bows in their +direction—Dulcie fluttered her handkerchief and +curtsied, Cyril bowed his best—the Fish-King +made a final gesture of farewell, the Twins kissed +their hands; his Majesty put his crown firmly on +his head with a smack, and disappeared with the +rocks beneath the surging spray. And they felt +they would never see him more.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[76]</span> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE MAGIC BRACELETS</p> + +<p>"How nice it is to be one's very own self again!" +observed Dulcie contentedly. "I don't think I +told you, Cyril, that a star-fish stared so rudely at +me and said something about 'a Winking, Blinking, +silly Periwinkle,' which upset me very much +at the time, but now it does seem absurd," and she +laughed. Then she told of her escape from the +net, and Cyril got very excited at her imprisonment +within it, remarking it was a jolly good thing <i>her</i> +last catseye had proved all right or she would have +remained a Periwinkle for ever.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Cyril!" she exclaimed, catching her breath, +"I never thought of that—was it my last? That +idea never came to me in the net; I never thought +at the time to see how many were left. Why! +Wherever is my bracelet!"</p> + +<p>"I say! Where's mine?" cried Cyril.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Magic Bracelets were gone.</span></p> + +<p>The children looked at one another, aghast.</p> + +<p>"I remember now," she exclaimed in awe-struck +tones, "wishing to be a crab so as to keep you<span class="pagenum">[77]</span> +company, and know the mystery, and I was too +miserable to think about the real Wishes—and +never noticed or thought about not having changed—and +oh! if <i>I</i> had happened to have one catseye +only, <i>I</i> should have changed into a horrid crab and +remained one for really ever and ever!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, bother. What's the good of going on like +that, Sis?" said her brother impatiently, for her +voice verged very near a whimper. "Much better +smile and thank your stars you're only a girl. Now +what shall we do? You suggest something, Dulcie."</p> + +<p>"Go home," was her prompt reply, wistfully and +not without anxiety.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but it's all very well to say 'Go home'; +the only way back must be the way we came, and +you know what that means; even if we can find it."</p> + +<p>From Dulcie's looks she evidently didn't relish +the prospect. The very idea of the Wizard made +her tremble.</p> + +<p>"I must say," continued her brother, "I don't +know how we're going to manage it. We can't, so <i>he</i> +said, cross the Brook—and you could see he meant +it. So it's impossible, unless we roam about till we +grow older, and then we shouldn't know the exact +date when we leave off being children under ten."</p> + +<p>"We shouldn't know the date at all," said +Dulcie disconsolately; "we don't even know what +time it is now."<span class="pagenum">[78]</span></p> + +<p>"It feels like tea-time," remarked Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, the sun's too hot for that."</p> + +<p>"Let's go through our changes and see if we +can make it all out," said Cyril; "that's the first +thing to do."</p> + +<p>They went carefully through their various experiences +from the beginning.</p> + +<p>"I counted there were ten in each bracelet, so we +ought each to have five catseyes left, instead of +none and no bracelets at all!" he concluded miserably. +And they were both full of trouble. But +soon, Dulcie exclaimed—</p> + +<p>"Why, we <i>are</i> Billies! We must count five +more for getting back each time into our own +shapes."</p> + +<p>Of course, there had been the mistake, and the +fact being brought to light proved a great relief.</p> + +<p>"Still," said Cyril, "we ought to have been more +careful, and saved two for the end; then we could +have crossed the Brook as animals or something and +taken our own shapes again on the other side, as +we'd made up our minds to do."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but perhaps we shouldn't have had the +power on the other side," remarked his sister.</p> + +<p>That was a new view of the case. The children +were perplexed.</p> + +<p>"Anyway, we're in a nice fix," replied Cyril.</p> + +<p>Then they decided it was no use stopping there,<span class="pagenum">[79]</span> +especially as Cyril said he wanted his tea badly—so +the only thing was to find their way back, and +try and dodge the Wizard if they could. They +wandered off, not particularly hopeful, and very +nervous. Cyril thought he should know the way +once they found the Bird-Fairy's glade. Dulcie +took his arm, and they walked on in silence, which +she broke at last.</p> + +<p>"I wish some one would come and take care +of us!"</p> + +<p>"I wish some one would bring me my tea!" +said her brother.</p> + +<p>"I wish some one would come and tell us what +to do!" sighed Dulcie, who had begun to find out +that it was of no use relying absolutely on Cyril +any more. "If only we were at home!"</p> + +<p>"I'll try to take you there, so cheer up, do," +answered the boy sturdily.</p> + +<p>The sea breezes were gone. The Twins had +reached the Jungle. To give themselves courage +he whistled "Rule Britannia" and she hummed it, +but held his arm very tight, and every now and +then looked furtively around. There was no sight +or sound of anything living. Nevertheless, they +hurried on, until they broke into a smart run, and +ran, and ran.... They halted abruptly. Cyril +hadn't the slightest idea whereabouts they were, +or which direction to take. It was no use asking<span class="pagenum">[80]</span> +Dulcie if she remembered; she only shook her head +disconsolately. When they fled from the Jungle +before, they had been far too scared to notice anything +at all in the way of landmarks.</p> + +<p>"We've got to get out of this and reach the +Town," observed the boy thoughtfully; "and then +we've got to get to the back of the cave."</p> + +<p>"But, Cyril, you've forgotten that after the Town +comes the Wood, and then that horrid place."</p> + +<p>"So I have. Well, it's quite impossible, that's +all—out and out impossible." His face was growing +very red.</p> + +<p>"Don't you remember, Cyril, my saying how +gloomy this place looked when we entered it the +first time? Well, it looks gloomy enough here +for anything, so it may turn out all right, and after +all, we may be near to where we entered. Come +along—it really does seem brighter over there. The +Town may be quite close."</p> + +<p>It certainly was brighter beyond. But no streets +were there. Instead, to their bewilderment, the +little travellers found themselves already in the +daisy glade once more. They were positively in +the beautiful Wood again. The first object that +caught their eye was something white. It was +Cyril's lost handkerchief which Dulcie picked up—it +was a brand new one—and tucked it in his pocket +at once.<span class="pagenum">[81]</span></p> + +<p>"I say, isn't it curious how I've brought you +back so easily?" remarked her brother.</p> + +<p>"It must be some short cut you found—by +accident," replied his sister decisively. And that +settled that. In the absolute silence which had +reigned around, a peculiar rustling now attracted +their attention. Dulcie hung back, and Cyril held +her hand as he advanced cautiously. They came to a +sudden standstill as, from a clump of trees, a tall +figure in a yellow satin gown emerged and confronted +them.</p> + +<p>"Pray walk in!" said the Wizard, and taking +the boy and girl by a hand he led them—not +through the Wood and along the country road—but +somehow straight through the back entrance +into his Cave Dwelling.</p> + +<p>"I'm so pleased to see you again," remarked +their host, smiling as he took off his spectacles and +scratched his nose with them. "I see you've not +found freedom yet! Ha, ha! Pray make yourselves +quite at home."</p> + +<p>Out of his satchel he drew forth the two bracelets +in which were no catseyes.</p> + +<p>"Used them quite all, I see!" he remarked +blandly. "These others, poor things, thought they +could change back the other side of my domain!" +And the Wizard laughed most unpleasantly loud—just +like his knocker.<span class="pagenum">[82]</span></p> + +<p>"Please, sir," ventured Dulcie coaxingly after his +hilarity was over—"please, sir, do let us go home."</p> + +<p>"But your brother—I'm sure he wouldn't be +satisfied."</p> + +<p>"Indeed I would," said Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Tush! Nonsense!" exclaimed the Wizard. "<i>I</i> +never say 'Don't' here—so you are going to live with +me and be oh so happy and free! free to do everything +I tell you. You would have been more useful +as a Crab. But now you shall <i>both</i> tend my +little Zoological Collection—they are not always so +still, oh no! You shall help me do my tricks. You +shall help me ruin that fishy old King; and help +me keep that Bird-Fairy in order till she shall rue +the day that she ever tried to——"</p> + +<p>The Twins heard no more. Locked in one +another's arms they had suddenly sunk down in +placid slumber. The astonished Wizard stopped +in his flow of eloquence. He walked round and +round them. His face grew blacker and blacker, +whilst the Twins slept calmly on, Dulcie's head +resting peacefully on Cyril's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Well I'm blessed!" muttered the Wizard, "or +should be if I weren't so...."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 404px;"> +<a name="z112" id="z112"></a> +<img src="images/z112.jpg" width="404" height="600" alt="Taking the boy and girl by a hand, he led them" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Taking the boy and girl by a hand, he led them</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[83]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE SPELL—AND HOW IT WORKED</p> + +<p>The poor children felt as though they had come +under some gentle influence, and curiously enough, +though outwardly asleep, they were conscious of +the Wizard walking around them, pushing and +pinching them, which somehow they never felt; +and they were conscious, too, that he was troubled +about something. What it was they couldn't +imagine. He began to mutter threats coupled +with the name of the Bird-Fairy.</p> + +<p>The Wizard was clearly not at all happy. Indeed, +he was profoundly concerned—for every time +he touched the children to wake them, a sensation +of cold spread over his hands which became rapidly +more and more acute until it felt like touching fire, +and he shrank back muttering and grumbling.</p> + +<p>At that moment there was a great rush of air. +The Bird-Fairy appeared, and with outspread +wings she stood over the resting children, and, full +of pity, she gazed down at them. Then they knew +they were in her care, and they knew, too, that <i>they +knew something which might prove useful and precious</i>. +And they smiled happily as they lay there.<span class="pagenum">[84]</span></p> + +<p>"What do you want here?" demanded the +Wizard harshly. "How dare you come here and +try to thwart me?"</p> + +<p>"I have come to pray you to turn from your +evil ways. Let these poor children go," begged +the Bird-Fairy in tones sweet and pleading. "They +have realised how much their happy home means +to them and the safety there is in being taken +care of. Let them go back to it."</p> + +<p>"Tush! Nonsense! What's all that to me? +Begone while I let you! I'm in no mood to be +trifled with."</p> + +<p>"Show kindness and mercy for once," was her reply.</p> + +<p>"What? Go! You remain to mock me? Remember +my little Zoological Collection. Which +of us triumphed throughout?"</p> + +<p>"Don't boast of that."</p> + +<p>"But there is much to boast about. And my +experiments have not stood still since that remote +period. Science has progressed!"</p> + +<p>"You will not be merciful?"</p> + +<p>A scornful laugh was all the reply he vouchsafed.</p> + +<p>"Then know," she continued solemnly, "that +our Fairy Enchantments have also strengthened +with time."</p> + +<p>"Is it to be another tussle between us?" inquired +the Wizard, smiling.</p> + +<p>"It is. And I pray it may be for the last time.<span class="pagenum">[85]</span> +I have failed before. But this time I am going to +succeed. With the girl my difficulty was not so +great, but the boy has been hard to convince that +other creatures have troubles greater than his. +Others have returned to you through your craft, +but this little couple you were forced to go and +meet. You sought to entrap the boy as a Crab—it +was I who restored the gem and saved him, as +you may have guessed. And with that success +the Bird-Fairy's hour now has come! You have +failed to snare them as Bird, Beast, or Fish—your +science can change mortals to nothing else. And +now you shall fail to turn them to slaves."</p> + +<p>Again the Wizard's discordant laughter was +heard, and he said—</p> + +<p>"You certainly got hold of that gem, my dear—and +you evidently consider yourself in consequence +an apt pupil of that old Fairy who befriended you—worse +luck to her! had she but passed a moment +later there would have been no time to frustrate +me. My science would have been powerful enough +to change you into a mere Bird. My Collection +would have been the more valuable, and she could +not have made you into a Fairy besides; nor +would you have known enchanting arts with power +to torment me; nor would you have had any hope +of future freedom."</p> + +<p>The Wizard paused a moment, then rasped out<span class="pagenum">[86]</span>—</p> + +<p>"Were it not for your own salvation perhaps +you wouldn't be so ready to help the children, and +to dare attempt to triumph over me. But we shall +see what progress we have both made!"</p> + +<p>"We shall see!" she repeated. "Touch these +dear children if you can. You find it difficult? +You do not understand it, eh?"</p> + +<p>The Wizard, with a groan of pain, had leapt back +after another attempt.</p> + +<p>"I soon shall understand it," he cried angrily, +taking up a bottle containing a green fluid, a few +drops of which he poured into his palms, then +smiled. "This will wake them quickly enough, +and probably never let them sleep again."</p> + +<p>But the only result was a louder cry of pain +from him and a peaceful snore from them.</p> + +<p>The Bird-Fairy looked steadily at him, and the +Wizard trembled with anger and fear. Recovering +himself he muttered: "You've got them well +under your wing. So it must be with you I have +to deal first. Ah, ha! I'll show you how Science +can outdo your paltry old-fashioned arts!"</p> + +<p>Thereupon he took a curious box-shaped mechanism, +pointed it at the Bird-Fairy, pressed a +spring, and instantly the pretty trio became enveloped +in a halo of rainbow. The next moment +the wings of the Bird-Fairy drooped, and the +children awoke. Her Spell was broken!<span class="pagenum">[87]</span></p> + +<p>He moved his terrible invention slightly, so that +she alone was encircled by the rainbow ray. She +stood there motionless like a beautiful statue; and +the Bird-Fairy was in the Wizard's power!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 506px;"> +<a name="z118" id="z118"></a> +<img src="images/z118.jpg" width="506" height="420" alt="The wizard, with a groan of pain, had leapt back" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">The wizard, with a groan of pain, had leapt back</p> + +<p>A few moments more and his triumph would be +supreme and everlasting. She would exist no more. +His evil heart thumped with excitement and glee.</p> + +<p>A continuous and regular movement around the +cave, and an underground heaving and low, distant +rumbling arrested the Wizard's attention.<span class="pagenum">[88]</span> +He gasped and started, and the instrument he +held fell from his grasp and shivered to atoms.</p> + +<p>The Twins were the cause. It was they who +had started the commotion. Unobserved by the +Wizard in his moment of exultation, freed by +him from the Bird-Fairy's Spell, they were free +to follow the irresistible inclination they felt when +they were under it. So they gently stroked each +of the animals around, and were charmed to find +that as they did so each poor creature changed +to girl or boy and vanished from its prison, whilst +the ground trembled and the rumbling became +louder and louder, as though some unseen power +was helping in the rescue. So quickly did they +run round on their task that at the moment when +the Wizard realised his mishap, just as he thought +he had triumphed, Dulcie and Cyril had done +their work. They started as they saw the Wizard +lying full length on the ground next to his shattered +invention, the rays of which were let loose +and playing like lightning all round him.</p> + +<p>Then they remained rooted to the spot with +amazement, for just beyond was the Bird-Fairy, +who before their astonished gaze became suddenly +bereft of her wings and covering of feathers, and +now stood before them as a lovely Princess, in +draperies of silver tissue, and with a golden circlet +upon her dark hair. A happy smile was on her<span class="pagenum">[89]</span> +face, as with a farewell gesture she motioned the +children away.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 509px;"> +<a name="z120" id="z120"></a> +<img src="images/z120.jpg" width="509" height="437" alt="Lying full length on the ground next to his shattered invention" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Lying full length on the ground next to his shattered invention</p> + +<p>There was a terrific noise as of a thunder-clap. +They looked back. Nothing but a dark cloud was +there!</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>"Come quick!" cried Dulcie, taking Cyril's +hand and running off with him; "there's no +shelter here. Let's get in before the rain."<span class="pagenum">[90]</span></p> + +<p>And away they sped from the rocks on which +they had so often played, reached home, ran indoors, +and got upstairs just before the big drops +turned into a heavy downpour and came pattering +against the nursery window-pane.</p> + +<p>"Are you children ready?" called up their +mother in her kind, cheery voice. "Come down +and have tea with me for a treat."</p> + +<p>It was a welcome invitation. They were quick +to shout their thanks and to make themselves tidy. +When they entered the parlour, where the sun was +peeping in again after his absence, their mother +said quietly—</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you've escaped the storm."</p> + +<p>Later on, they all three sat in the gathering +twilight at the large bow-window watching Nature +going to sleep. The two children sat up very late +that night—and they told their mother such an +extraordinary story that she wondered how ever +it could have got into their heads; and wondered +where they could have read it. But they knew +they hadn't read it.</p> + +<p>"Look at the bump on Cyril's forehead!" +exclaimed Dulcie, as conclusive evidence of the +fight. But their mother only shook her head. +Cyril often wore such marks of battle.</p> + +<p>"And, little Mother, we <i>are</i> so glad to be at +home." She laughed. But they meant it.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[91]</span> + +<h2><a name="THE_OLD-FANGLED_FATHER_AND" id="THE_OLD-FANGLED_FATHER_AND"></a>THE OLD-FANGLED FATHER AND +HIS NEW-FANGLED SONS</h2> + +<p>Centuries ago, an old father—as old as one of +them—lay on his couch feeling that his end was +near. He was not surprised; in fact, he had +foreseen it as he had foreseen many other events. +And he was reputed wise beyond his years, and +therefore far beyond those of the people who +reputed it.</p> + +<p>So he called softly to him his three sons. They +didn't hear him, being busy in different parts of +the house; and it never occurred to him to ring +the bell, because he was so old-fangled. He +shouted to them, and they came.</p> + +<p>"I have three things to say to you," remarked +the father solemnly.</p> + +<p>The sons fidgeted visibly; they had been +studying, were not at home to any one, and +particularly had not wished to be disturbed in +their work. They thought that their father was +going to begin another anecdote, and it put them +out of humour; but they were startled when he +said<span class="pagenum">[92]</span>—</p> + +<p>"My sons, my end is near."</p> + +<p>Each one replied with an endearing term—just +one, for they were not men of many words. And +they told him "it was only his fuss." That he +was "only a hundred, and didn't look as if he +were going to be cut off prematurely." "That +he mustn't give in and should never say 'die.'"</p> + +<p>"I cannot argue the point," replied the old man. +"Let me tell you my last wishes as briefly as I +can, for my time is short."</p> + +<p>They tried to dissuade him from talking so +much, but it was of no avail, for he protested +that it was their duty to listen to him, and he +insisted upon having last wishes as he had read +that others had had before him, and it would be +for the sons to obey and unravel them as best +they could.</p> + +<p>Then the father, addressing the eldest, who was +ambitious and already past middle age, spoke as +follows:—</p> + +<p>"My son, my first-born, find out the furthermost +summit of the world, and when you have +surmounted that, you can surmount anything."</p> + +<p>To his second son, who was avaricious and also +getting old and rather bald, he said:—</p> + +<p>"Sit patiently, and wait, and when you can +hear a voice that comes from no living throat, +and can see its traces, you will want for nothing."<span class="pagenum">[93]</span></p> + +<p>To the third son, and consequently his favourite, +who was romantic, being better looking and naturally +younger than his elder brothers, the father +spoke thus:—</p> + +<p>"You, my son, who are the pride of my heart, +the joy of my life, the light of mine eyes, search +the atmosphere till at your bidding it showers +down burning stars; then shall you go to the +beautiful Princess who awaits you, and live +without labour."</p> + +<p>And the three brothers murmured under their +breath:—</p> + +<p>"Poor old dad! He's certainly very unwell."</p> + +<p>But he had not yet finished.</p> + +<p>"Try to realise your ambition, my sons," he +continued. "I have shown you the ways you +should go. Then, and only then, will you have +earned that priceless jewel—Contentment."</p> + +<p>The old man then composed himself comfortably, +and died a few years later, after a sharp +attack of senile decay, leaving many regrets and +unsettled accounts behind him.</p> + +<p>When that happened the three sons were very +sad all day and all night. The very next morning +they called to mind his last wishes of a few +years ago, and decided to ponder over them, give +them the benefit of their doubt, and see if anything +could be made out of them. And they<span class="pagenum">[94]</span> +stuck manfully to their resolution, especially as +the creditors were hourly expected.</p> + +<p>The eldest son looked up all the maps and +geography books he could get hold of, and studied +them until he came to the uncomfortable conclusion +that he would certainly risk death by sea and +cannibals many times before he could hope to +reach the furthermost summit of the globe.</p> + +<p>The second son sat and waited for the voice he +was both to hear and trace, until at night he gave +up in despair. So he decided that the only voice +worth listening to was that of common-sense.</p> + +<p>The favourite son, meanwhile, went for a long +walk, bent on success, and, unlike the others, +full of a new hope. Yet, search as he would, +he could find no spot where the atmosphere +changed into stars at his bidding, and he returned +home long after dinner-time disconsolate +to his supper of soup which had grown cold.</p> + +<p>The next morning the three brothers arose in +disappointment and vexation of mind. They +murmured loud and long at having been sent +on fairy-tale errands in a world where no clever +talking animals really existed, or kind-hearted +inanimate objects volunteered to befriend them +on impossible quests.</p> + +<p>As the first-born explained:—</p> + +<p>"If I were to coax my parrot and ask him to<span class="pagenum">[95]</span> +help me in return for my many years of kindness, +as they do successfully in fairy stories, he would +bite me for my pains, as he always does whenever +I feed him."</p> + +<p>And the second-born said:—</p> + +<p>"If I were to fondle a pin and said, 'Ah, pin! +canst thou help me in my distress?' ten to one +I would get pricked, and serve me right for being +so imbecile."</p> + +<p>"As for me," exclaimed the romantic one, +"were a gentle wolf to find me mooning about +the forest thinking of my beauteous Princess, +surely would he stop and, with a keen sense of +the fitness of things, he would not trifle with +politeness, but he would eat of me as much as +would satisfy his present need—perhaps even +more than he could digest."</p> + +<p>And the brothers laughed aloud in the splenetic +bitterness of their three souls.</p> + +<p>Another year went by. The sons had paid +their father's debts and made some on their own +account; so they held a council, and they confessed +that they had idled so long because they +were haunted by the rosy promise their father's +words held out, and, do what they would, they +could neither forget them nor yet find any solution.</p> + +<p>Then together they pondered and thought, until<span class="pagenum">[96]</span> +one fine day (all the rest about that time had been +wet) they concluded that as they were not believers +in fairy tales, science perhaps might help them.</p> + +<p>So they worked and worked and worked, each +with his own object. They certainly did not lack +brains, or test-tubes, or electric wire, yet just as +certainly did they lack money; and, but for the +occasional doing of menial work, they would have +starved and starved and gone hungry.</p> + +<p>At last the eldest son solved his mystery. Now +could he surmount the furthest summit of the +world, for he had invented a machine which could +carry him soaring like a bird over mountains and +over seas.</p> + +<p>And the second son solved <i>his</i> mystery. Now +he could hear a voice that came from no living +throat and yet could see its traces, for he had +invented an automaton that could speak and could +record its words with a stylus upon tablets of wax.</p> + +<p>And the third son solved <i>his</i> mystery. He had +searched the atmosphere, and now at his bidding +burning stars were showered down, for he had invented +a kite fashioned on a wonderful wire, which +went through the air and drew forth electric sparks. +And his heart burned with love for the beautiful +Princess whom he knew awaited him, though by +this time she must be getting on.</p> + +<p>The excitement of the brothers was great. "It<span class="pagenum">[97]</span> +is our genius we can thank!" they exclaimed all +in three breaths. "Our father, steeped in his old-fangled +lore, never could have foreseen our triumphs. +He never could have guessed how we should solve +his posers." That was their conclusion. Then they +shook hands all round, congratulated one another, +and went their different ways.</p> + +<p>The eldest flew off, mounted upon his wonderful +air-steed, amid the gaping of the astonished +villagers, and his two brothers looked after him +wistfully until he disappeared far away behind the +clouds. The hopes of the traveller rose ever higher +and higher as for weeks and months he soared on, +exhilarated beyond all imagination. At last he +came to the furthermost summit of which his dear +father had spoken so solemnly. Over it sailed the +son as easily as a bird. When crack! the machine +broke and collapsed, and the unfortunate inventor +was hurled headlong into the sea, and every +moment threatened to be his last, but wasn't. As +he floundered in the water he looked annoyed, and +he murmured to himself:—</p> + +<p>"There must be some mistake. Who can truly +say that I have found Contentment here?"</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the second son had borrowed a +camel and gone off with his precious automaton +to the great city, there to reap the reward of his +labours. All the way he reckoned how he could<span class="pagenum">[98]</span> +best enjoy the vast sums of gold which would be +poured into his lap. And he came to the conclusion +that to gaze at it would give more pleasure +than to spend any of it, except just a little for +coffers to keep it in. He laughed aloud in anticipation. +Arrived at his journey's end, he unpacked +his treasure and set it working, and was +forthwith lodged in prison—for the city turned out +to be as narrow-minded as it was great, and it assured +him that he must be a wizard. He assured +it he wasn't, and proved that he didn't believe in +fairy tales, for he had not relied upon them for +help. But it was of no avail; there was nothing +more to be said. This disappointing ending to so +much effort and such real success encouraged him +in the conviction that in the position in which he +found himself he could find no legitimate ground +for Contentment.</p> + +<p>During this time the favourite son had sallied forth +singing in search of the beauteous Princess. His +marvellous kite was slung behind him. He wended +his steps toward the only Court he knew of, where +dwelt a Princess good, beautiful, and unmarried—a +combination of charms of marked rarity. So joyous +and merry was he, that the squirrels squeaked and +scurried away at sight of him, and the very hyenas +laughed in harmony as he passed by singing, "Tra-la-la!" +in his blithe lightsomeness. Ah, how gladsome<span class="pagenum">[99]</span> +and thrice happy was that merry, merry +morn!</p> + +<p>Now the Princess sat in the vast hall of the palace +turning up her nose at the stream of suitors that +promenaded in front of her, very bored and weary +at the continuous routine. But she never seemed +to tire of it in her certainty that "the right one" +would put in his appearance at the right moment.</p> + +<p>She was a very spoilt lady indeed; there was no +one to gainsay her. Indeed, so spoilt was she, that +every night she would cry for the stars, and blame +the skies for being selfish and not sparing her a +few when they knew (for she had often told them) +that she wished to wear them in her hair. And +every one said how illogical it was of her, and no +one told her they were too large for practical +purposes.</p> + +<p>One bitterly cold night, whilst she was sitting +thus at her open casement, bemoaning the selfishness +of the skies, and heedless of everything else, a +mighty hubbub arose outside.</p> + +<p>"What ho!" called the pretty Princess. Her +attendants came tumbling in to her in their eagerness +to answer her summons.</p> + +<p>"What's without?" she inquired.</p> + +<p>Nobody knew, and tumbled out to get to know. +They rushed back and told her all at once that a +brand new suitor had arrived at that unusual hour,<span class="pagenum">[100]</span> +and would she snub him at once or tarry till the +morrow? It took her a little time to unravel what +was said amidst such a babel of voices.</p> + +<p>"La! Oh my!" suddenly exclaimed the Princess, +her eyes riveted outside on the blackness of +the night. She could scarcely believe her senses, +for there, in her garden, stars were actually falling +down in showers, lighting up the figure of a man +who, with upstretched hand, was beckoning them +to come!</p> + +<p>He was summoned at once to the royal presence, +shivering and blue with cold; but his romantic +heart throbbed at the sight of so much beauty, +and his face assumed a warmer hue. He was so +intoxicated with delight that afterwards he could +never quite tell how it all came about. As in a +haze, he remembered the Princess greeting him as +the one long awaited; he recollected her saying +that as he could wrest the stars from the selfish +skies, he could gratify her desire to wear some in +her hair, and bade him go collect them.</p> + +<p>He explained his invention. She grew impatient. +He told her the electricity would kill +him. She shrugged her shoulders and insisted. +He declined to take the risk. Whereupon she +turned into a fury in her pretty illogicality, and +exclaiming that he must be the wrong man after +all, she flung his invention into the fire and ordered<span class="pagenum">[101]</span> +him to be flung after it. He took the hint by the +heels and fled through the window, far into the +night.</p> + +<p>Not at all Content with his romantic adventure, +or with life as a whole, he enlisted and became a +target in the front rank of the army.</p> + +<p>It was, of course, some time later that the eldest +brother—who had been plucked from the billows +by a fisherman who happened to be passing by as +usual—booked his passage home, and found on +his arrival that the said home had been sold, as +advertised, for building lots in eligible plots on +easy terms, to pay expenses.</p> + +<p>The second brother, in order to secure his freedom +from prison, then and there smashed up his automaton +and trudged home, arriving just in time +to join his brother in being ordered away from +their former doorstep, though still held responsible +for the rates and taxes.</p> + +<p>At that moment, too, the brother of the twain +was deposited amongst them, having been invalided +to his sold-up home for life.</p> + +<p>So, in order not to trespass for fear of prosecution, +they all three sat down a little outside +the boundary line and recounted each to the others +their adventures and their experiences. It was +nightfall before they had done, and they really +could hardly help laughing. And then, after<span class="pagenum">[102]</span> +thinking things out, they shook hands all round in +silence.</p> + +<p>For the prophecy had come true. <i>They were +content.</i> The three sons were now thoroughly +Content—to work no more, to do nothing more +for the rest of their existence. It wasn't worth it, +they said. Their disappointments were over, and +they were fully Content that they should be so. +The villagers, once more open-mouthed in their +gaping, and open-minded too, differed from the +inhabitants of the great city, and looked upon the +brothers as who should say "three wise men," and +took upon themselves the care of them in the workhouse, +and were proud to get them, and to show +them to visitors.</p> + +<p>As to the beautiful Princess, she was changed by +time into an old maid, and still kept on turning up +her nose at elderly, rheumatic suitors as they passed +on their usual rounds.</p> + +<p>So the old father was right after all.</p> + +<p>His ambitious son had surmounted everything, +including disappointment.</p> + +<p>His avaricious son had succeeded in having his +wants supplied for nothing.</p> + +<p>And his favourite son could jog along as romantically +as the workhouse rules allowed, without labour +and without effort.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[103]</span> + +<h2><a name="THE_LITTLE_PICTURE_GIRL" id="THE_LITTLE_PICTURE_GIRL"></a>THE LITTLE PICTURE GIRL</h2> + +<a name="z134" id="z134"></a> +<img class="split" src="images/z134.jpg" width="231" height="307" alt="" title=""> + +<p style="margin-top:40px"><span class="hide">It</span> was Christmas Eve, and a +little girl lay in her little +bed, wondering what Santa +Claus was going to put in +her stocking this year. It +was hung up where he +would be sure to see it, +and upon the same chair +before the fireplace she +had thoughtfully placed +her clothes-brush in case +he might like to brush +off the soot from his coat.</p> + +<p>The grate held but a few smouldering embers, +for it was late, very late—at least ten o'clock—and +Minna ought to have been asleep hours ago. Perhaps +she would have been, only there were so many +things to wonder about to-night, and one cannot +be sure of wondering about them when one is fast +asleep.</p> + +<p>So after wondering about Santa Claus, she turned +to the stars, which she could see through the uncurtained<span class="pagenum">[104]</span> +window: she wondered if they twinkled and +winked like that because they liked it or because +she liked it. Then there was the moon, which was +looking straight at her in its own unblushing, beaming +way and filled the room with its light; and she +sat up in bed and watched it, wondering where it +went to during the day.</p> + +<p>Now opposite her bed were three pictures, +coloured and framed. One was of a dainty +Columbine smiling at her companion picture—a +Harlequin who stood on his toes with feet crossed, +and his arms folded over his staff; and the pair set +her wondering what she would see at the promised +pantomime.</p> + +<p>Between them hung Minna's favourite picture. +It represented a fine old moated house covered +with snow. On the white path which led from the +portico were tracks of little feet, manifestly made +by the little smiling girl who stood in the act of +passing over the bridge that spanned the moat. +She appeared to be the same age as Minna, about +six years old, and was dressed in a red pelisse and +fur tippet. Her dark hair peeped from under a +red, broad-brimmed hat with drooping feathers, +and her hands were hidden in a large fur muff.</p> + +<p>Minna herself had just such an outdoor costume, +and when dressed for her walk she had often +wondered where the little Picture Girl could be +<span class="pagenum">[105]</span>going so gaily for hers. And now Minna wondered +that once more as she glanced at her favourite +picture, upon which the moon was shining so +brightly to-night, till, bathed in the bright light, it +seemed to stand right out from the shadows of the +room.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 440px;"> +<a name="z136" id="z136"></a> +<img src="images/z136.jpg" width="440" height="600" alt="The Little Picture Girl" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">The Little Picture Girl</p> + +<p>There was a creak, as though the old wardrobe +wanted to stretch itself after standing still so long—a +funny little way furniture has now and again. +But Minna didn't think it was the wardrobe this +time—she thought Harlequin had done it. For it +seemed to her as though he had suddenly stretched +forth his arm and struck out with his staff. No—he +was just as usual, only somewhat darker, being +in shadow; and as usual just ready to do something, +yet never doing it.</p> + +<p>But surely with the favourite picture there was +something different!—some change! It was always +morning there. And now—why, now it was night! +The moon was lighting up the old moated house, +and the stars were twinkling over its heavy, white-capped +roof. Minna looked for the little girl in +red—but there was no little girl in red on the +bridge at all!</p> + +<p>"Of course," reflected Minna, "she must be in +bed behind one of those little dormer windows fast +asleep—for it must be very late."</p> + +<p>This seemed strange somehow, yet it was only<span class="pagenum">[106]</span> +just as it really ought to be. She herself never +went for a morning walk in the middle of the night, +nor had she ever heard of any one else doing so.</p> + +<p>All at once, from the distant steeple which +peeped through the white sparkling trees beyond +the bridge, came a muffled striking of the hour, and +Minna, to her increasing surprise, counted on her +fingers up to ten, and then there were two more. +And then, to her amazement, whom should she see +on the bridge in the snow, which had begun gently +to fall again—not the little girl in red—but dear +old Santa Claus himself, covered up in fur and +scarlet, trudging towards the house with tempting-looking +parcels slung about him! Now he fixed +a ladder against the thick, frost-laden ivy which +covered the front of the old house, and he mounted +it very carefully. Then he climbed up the roof as +easily as if he had been walking along the high-road +in the daylight. And then he disappeared +down one of the chimneys. Very soon he reappeared +without quite so many parcels, slowly +descended the ladder, put it upon his shoulder, and +walked off with it.</p> + +<p>Minna's eyes followed him with the utmost astonishment +and interest. Of course, she always knew +that it was Santa Claus's lovely privilege to come +down the chimney, but she had never actually +known him to do it—and then the joy of seeing<span class="pagenum">[107]</span> +him come out again, evidently on his rounds, was +breathlessly delicious!<span class="pagenum">[108]</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 394px;"> +<a name="z140" id="z140"></a> +<img src="images/z140.jpg" width="394" height="600" alt="He mounted it very carefully" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">He mounted it very carefully</p> + +<p>All was quiet now—only the moon and the stars +and Minna watching over the slumbering house and +garden, about which the soft snow-flakes hovered +and fluttered. She had more than ever to wonder +about now. She longed for a peep—just one peep—inside +that beautiful house, to see if the little +Picture Girl was really asleep.</p> + +<p>Harlequin must have guessed what Minna wanted, +for there is no doubt that he gave her a knowing +look (though it might have been meant for sweet +Columbine); and just as surely Minna saw his arm +stretch out and heard the rap of his staff upon the +picture frame. Then he pretended he hadn't done +it; but she forgot all about him, so great was her +interest in what she saw.</p> + +<p>At that touch of Harlequin's the scene had +changed to a dainty bedroom. It was dawn. A +red pelisse and hat hung upon a peg on the door, +and a large muff peeped from its box on the shelf. +A rosy light tinged the face of the child who was +sleeping there in the old wooden bedstead, and +woke her up. The first thing the little Picture +Girl did was to look with content into her stocking. +It was very fat. And then, with a little +pant of delight, she discovered a lovely doll lying +on her pillow. First she hugged and then she +kissed it; then she laid her new treasure beside her, +her heavy eyelids drooped, and she fell asleep again.<span class="pagenum">[109]</span></p> + +<p>And nothing stirred.</p> + +<p>"More, please!" said Minna, by this time quite +at home with Harlequin. Again he gave that +knowing look, and did as she asked. A rap, and +once more she saw the garden. It had stopped +snowing, and the sun was rising over the old +roof.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a little sweep appeared, swung himself +up by the ivy, crept stealthily up the tiles, and +disappeared down a chimney. In a moment he +reappeared with a doll and a fat-looking stocking, +all so quickly that, before Minna had time to clasp +her hands and cry out, he was gone altogether. +She looked at Harlequin, but he paid no attention.</p> + +<p>"More!" she repeated eagerly. Harlequin's +staff then moved and rapped.</p> + +<p>And there was the breakfast-room in the old +moated house. The master of it sat at the table +reading his newspaper. Soon he looked up and +nodded encouragingly at his little daughter, who +very seriously was making his tea. She nodded +back and smiled. But it was a sad little smile, and +her eyes were rather red, as though something had +happened.</p> + +<p>Then the door opened, and, to every one's surprise, +in marched a stout beadle. In one hand he +held a doll and a stocking full of sweets, and in the<span class="pagenum">[110]</span> +other he held the collar of a little sweep, with the +little sweep wriggling inside it. Close behind +there came a tiny crippled girl, who moved painfully +by the aid of a crutch to the boy's side, and +laid a trembling hand on his arm. The brother and +sister were much like one another, in feature and in +squalor. Great tears were rolling down her cheeks, +and her poor face was no whiter with pain than his +with fright beneath the soot, though, looking lovingly +at her, he tried to appear brave.</p> + +<p>The beadle noticed the little Picture Girl's look +of recognition at sight of her lost treasures, and as +he gave them back to her he pointed to the black +marks on the doll's frock, which tallied with the +little sweep's grimy paw, and then jerked his head +towards the crippled child in whose possession he +had found them. Then the stout beadle gave the +boy a shake, just to remind him of his wrong-doing—as +if any further reminder was needed!—and +made for the door, dragging the wretched +offender after him.</p> + +<p>But the little Picture Girl showed so much +distress, stopped him, and looked at him so +piteously, and with so much kindness in her sweet +eyes, that he let go his grip of the collar. Then she +put the presents into the boy's hand, and pushed +him gently towards his sister. But the lad shook +his head sadly, and looked more ashamed than ever.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 420px;"> +<a name="z144" id="z144"></a> +<img src="images/z144.jpg" width="420" height="600" alt="In marched a stout beadle" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">In marched a stout beadle</p> +<p><span class="pagenum">[111]</span></p> +<p>The little Picture Girl glanced at her father, +who had been silently watching the scene. He +nodded, so she pressed them on the boy, whose +eyes now filled with tears as he gazed, humbled +and grateful, at the beautiful young lady whose +generosity saved him from punishment. Meanwhile, +the gentleman Christmas-boxed the beadle, +who smiled fatly and went his way. Then, for a +moment or two, the picture-father's uplifted finger +wagged a warning at the boy, who hung his head: +but Minna could see that it was not so very +terrible, because, if the boy had not confessed his +fault, how would the beadle have known in what +house he had yielded to temptation for his sister's +sake? The little cripple dried her eyes at seeing +her brother safe, and was very grateful for the gifts +she hesitated to accept. But she had a right to +keep them now; and it was not her fault that +she was the innocent cause of her brother's +offence.</p> + +<p>Food from the breakfast-table was wrapped up +in the newspaper, the big bundle was put into the +little sweep's arms, and the two poor waifs who +had entered so miserable were sent away happy at +the bright moment which had entered into their +dark lives, whilst the little Picture Girl, who for +the second time had lost the presents Santa Claus +had brought her, looked after the poor little pair<span class="pagenum">[112]</span> +quite content, and smiled as she waved good-bye +with her pretty hand.</p> + +<p>Then the master of the old moated house wiped +his spectacles, which somehow had become quite +misty. He lifted up his little daughter in his +arms and kissed her, and, putting his hand into his +pocket, drew from his purse a gold piece which she +took with a laugh of surprise and delight, and +threw her arms round his dear bronzed neck.</p> + +<p>Minna saw nothing more. She must have fallen +fast asleep.</p> + +<p>It was very late when she awoke. The first +thing she did was to smile as she trotted off to +look at what Santa Claus had put in her stocking. +She had seen him on his rounds. She had seen +his parcels. Dear, kind old Santa Claus, who +saves up all the year to be the loving, generous +friend to little children at Christmas-time. Minna +smiled again as the thought flashed through her +mind. She approached her stocking. It looked +rather thin—horridly thin. It was empty! She +ran to her pillow. Nothing on it, nothing under +it! She could not understand it. Oh, Santa Claus!</p> + +<p>She gave a big gulp, and decided to wait and +see what her father would say about it. She had +to bustle too, for the bell would very soon ring +for breakfast, at which it was her duty to preside.<span class="pagenum">[113]</span></p> + +<p>"Papa, Santa Claus has forgotten me!" were +her first words after the morning kiss.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 418px;"> +<a name="z148" id="z148"></a> +<img src="images/z148.jpg" width="418" height="600" alt="Smiled as she waved good-bye" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Smiled as she waved good-bye</p> + +<p>At this, her father pursed up his lips with a +blank look. "Dear, dear! Good gracious! 'Pon +my word! What a forgetful old Santa Claus.<span class="pagenum">[114]</span> +I'm afraid he's getting past his work. Perhaps," +he said, turning to the window, as a tear was +gathering in each of Minna's bright eyes, "the +snow was too thick."</p> + +<p>"No, Funnyums" (she often called him that), +"it wasn't the snow. I know he was out in it, +'cos I saw him."</p> + +<p>"Saw him, did you?" he replied, smiling. +"Well, perhaps he gave all the toys away till there +were none left, and then, as the shops were shut, +there were no more to be had!"</p> + +<p>Minna now felt sure her father was joking as +usual, and that there must be some secret.</p> + +<p>"But perhaps, Minna, Santa Claus came to my +room by mistake," he added. "In fact, it occurred +to me that he might. He's getting short-sighted, +you know, and—we are so very much alike. +Suppose you go and see!"</p> + +<p>Away she ran, and there, sure enough, were +Funnyums's two socks hung up! One looked +full, the other looked empty. She found in the +full one all sorts of good things to eat. Minna +emptied it quickly.</p> + +<p>"I wish Funnyums wore stockings," she murmured. +Then she went to the empty one, which +wasn't empty, because right down in the toe there +was a gold piece!</p> + +<p>Then Funnyums was hugged, and Funnyums<span class="pagenum">[115]</span> +was thanked, and scolded for being up to his tricks +again, and then hugged once more to make it all +right. All that stirring time he was quietly pretending +to read his newspaper—just as though he +really wanted to read it at all!</p> + +<p>And Minna forgot everything in the excitement +of Christmas Day. That night she slept soundly. +The following day she went to the pantomime, +and afterwards dreamt about Columbine.</p> + +<p>It was only on the morrow that she noticed +again her favourite picture, and then her mind +wandered back to the wonderful things that had +happened there. And as she gazed at the little +girl in red, who was going out so joyously for her +morning walk, it occurred to her where the little +Picture Girl must be going to—she was going out, +as Minna was, to spend the gold piece <i>her</i> father +had given her!</p> + +<p>"Ah, she deserved it," Minna said to herself. +"I—I don't quite think I've deserved mine—that +is, quite so much. I should like to do something +for children who suffer and are poor," she muttered, +"like—like the children in the hospital." And +slowly, as she thought it out, she made up her +mind that the doll she was going to buy should be +a very small one, and that the rest of the money +from the gold piece she would send to the "Children's +Hospital Fund."<span class="pagenum">[116]</span></p> + +<p>Seldom has any child felt happier than Minna +did that sunny morning as she donned her red +pelisse and hat, and took her muff from its box. +She paused at the door, and glanced at the little +Picture Girl, who was smiling back at her. "A +Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!" said +Minna out loud, dropped her a little curtsey, +nodded gaily, and ran out.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[117]</span> + +<h2><a name="THE_SLEEPING_BEAUTYS_DREAM" id="THE_SLEEPING_BEAUTYS_DREAM"></a>THE SLEEPING BEAUTY'S DREAM</h2> + +<blockquote><p>"She pricked her hand with the point of the spindle, and fell into a +deep, deep sleep."</p></blockquote> + +<p>And the creepers that had been climbing over +the castle walls for a long time, searching for the +turret chamber wherein the sleeping Princess lay—the +ivy, the jessamine, the briar rose—climbed +round odd niches and corners, as if all were curious +to see the lovely maiden under the Fairy Spell. +But the years went by and none had reached so +high, though one sweet little briar rose had not +given up hope, and crept steadily onward and +spread as it went. And this is the dream of the +beautiful Princess:—</p> + +<p>She dreamt that she arose and wandered forth +out of the castle gates, on to the sunlit terrace. +Her attendants had dozed over their labours, and +she wondered at their laziness. The peacocks had +stopped in their strutting and had fallen asleep; +even the singing-birds in the trees had ceased their +trilling and hidden their little heads under their +wings. But the Princess did not tarry. She went +straight on, past the closed-up daisies and sunflowers<span class="pagenum">[118]</span> +and the drooping foxgloves, past the goldfish +drowsing in the fountain basin, for all around +Nature was hushed and had fallen asleep.</p> + +<p>Without hesitation she crossed the meadow of +wild flowers, and reached the willow path that +skirted the sparkling river, and did not stop until +she reached a willow larger than the rest. Then, +bending under its branches, she neared the water's +edge. There an old wooden skiff was moored; +lifting her silken robe, she stepped into it, unfastened +the cord, and, reclining on the embroidered +cushions, she closed her eyes with a happy sigh. +Away drifted the bark with its lovely burden. +The sunlight turned to twilight with lurid gleams, +and pale green flecks jewelled the sky; the +twilight turned to dark grey and silver, and the +moon and stars watched her on her way. The bark +floated to where the silent river joined the open +sea; still peacefully on it went, over the bosom +of the moonlit ocean, onward into the night.</p> + +<p>The Princess's sweet thoughts were disturbed by +the sudden stopping of her craft, which had run +aground on the sands just where the tiny wavelets +retreated shyly, to venture again and as quickly +withdraw.</p> + +<p>Soft and balmy was the summer's night, and on +the breeze music came, wafted towards the young +Princess, who smiled and landed lightly, drawn by<span class="pagenum">[119]</span> +the bright strains which led her, following, to a +pleasure ground. Lights hung festooned in the +great trees, and in an open space peasants in their +picturesque costumes were dancing, and laughing +as they stepped. The Princess, from behind a tree, +gazed on the scene, on the glades and lake in the +distance—all mysterious in the night; and as she +listened to the laughter and the music, she knew +she had never heard anything so delightful before.</p> + +<p>Happy at the sight and sounds, she moved from +behind the tree, and she saw a young man approach +her with great respect—one of a group who were +not dancing. The Princess would have fled, but he +was already close; and although his dress betokened +origin as humble as that of those around, he was as +handsome as a young god. They looked into one +another's eyes; then she accepted his invitation to +dance.</p> + +<p>Afterwards they sat together on a mossy knoll +and talked low—all was silent around, and the +light of the stars was reflected in the glow-worms, +but the Princess did not tell him who she was; and +when he spoke of a quest on which he was about to +start, to find his unknown betrothed, who awaited +him in a distant land, she wept. Her sweet tears +fell upon his hand, which he raised to his lips and +reverently kissed them there, and she smiled on +him for doing so. But the smile faded as an old<span class="pagenum">[120]</span> +woman came, and, plucking him by the sleeve, told +him it was the hour to go. And when the +Princess was alone she felt as though she had +never known before what it was to be alone.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"... and she would be awakened by a king's son."<br></span> +</div></div> + +<p>How long a time passed by she did not know. +But again she saw the handsome peasant youth. +And her heart sank as she thought that her release +could come only through the kiss of some king's +son who could claim her for his wife. Then she +pondered no more, for she saw the traveller now, +far, far away, where she could not get near him; +and he was in a forest path, wrestling with desperate +fury with a giant who had barred the way.</p> + +<p>Breathlessly she watched the youth as he +struggled in the brawny monster's clutch. The +Princess, moved by his stress, cried out in her +sleep. Then the rays of the noonday sun, redoubling +their forceful heat, shone forth with overpowering +energy. The giant, struck with the pain +of it, clasped his hands to his head, and fell backwards +like a log to the ground.</p> + +<p>The Princess knew that her love was safe, and +by her fear for his safety she knew, too, how dear +he was to her. And she went on dreaming—dreaming +happily of what might be the future +shared with one she loved so much.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="z156" id="z156"></a> +<img src="images/z156.jpg" width="600" height="506" alt="" title=""> +</div> + +<span class="pagenum">[121]</span> + +<p class="caption">Then she accepted his invitation to dance.</p> + +<p>Her heart fluttered as with foreboding of evil. +She beheld a range of mountains, and up the foot +of one of the peaks a peasant youth toiled his +weary course. But the mountain was so slippery +that his efforts were of no avail. As he gazed +round she could see the handsome features, +clouded by fatigue that almost was despair. She +saw that the mountain was glistening, and that it +was made of ice.</p> + +<p>Then she felt the breath of summer. She saw it +lift the white pall from the earth—she saw it melt +the belt of ice, and as she looked the mountain +dissolved into water under the warmth of her love. +She saw that he was safe, trudging over the carpet +of cowslips, smiling as he went. She wanted to +run towards him, but he passed through a thicket +and disappeared from sight.</p> + +<p>The Princess arose to follow him. But she lost +her way, and wandered on and on through a dense +forest, where nothing stirred but scampering hares +and startled squirrels.</p> + +<p>At last, towards evening, she came to a path all +gay with glowing flowers, refreshed by their evening +bath of dew, and whispering to one another a +hushed good-night ere closing their eyes to the light. +As the Princess passed along, the strains of an +organ fell upon her ear, and she saw a great temple +before her. She stood at the open door. Within,<span class="pagenum">[122]</span> +hundreds of candles lighted the vast grey dome. +And far beyond, in a haze of mystery, stood the +man she loved, and by his side his bride, all veiled +in white. And she knew his quest was done, and +that he had found her whom he had gone to seek. +Then there was a stir in the multitude, and a peal +of bells rang out on the stillness without. The +Princess sank down and felt as though she swooned.</p> + +<p>A kiss was on her lips, and she trembled, for she +knew the moment had come for the Prince to +claim her. But the kiss was sweet. The Sleeping +Beauty came slowly back to consciousness; she +awoke, and before her was a tall knight in silver +armour. His handsome features were lighted up +with joy: she knew him well, and, enfolded in his +embrace, she murmured happily:—</p> + +<p>"It is you, O Prince, the youth of my dream!"</p> + +<p>And the little briar rose peeped in at the turret +casement and nodded in the breeze at the lovers as +they sat close clasped, and as the bells pealed forth, +told the news to the ivy, which told it to the jessamine, +until soon the tidings spread over the great +city far and wide, and over all the joyful land.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 470px;"> +<a name="z160" id="z160"></a> +<img src="images/z160.jpg" width="470" height="600" alt="" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">It is you, O Prince, the youth of my dream!</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[123]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="THE_GAMEKEEPERS_DAUGHTER" id="THE_GAMEKEEPERS_DAUGHTER"></a>THE GAMEKEEPER'S DAUGHTER</h2> + +<p>"Just run up to the Grange and tell her ladyship +the bull-pup is doing nicely, and that you bandaged +its leg as she showed you. Make haste, lass, +if you're not too tired, as her ladyship would like +to know before she drives out."</p> + +<p>"All right, Dad; I'll run. It's much too cold to +walk."</p> + +<p>Rogers, the gamekeeper, glanced with pride +after the little retreating figure, and then, as his +old mother was standing in the draughty porch +awaiting him, he kissed her wrinkled face, and +they entered the cottage together.</p> + +<p>Nancy was soon at the Grange, her cheeks +aglow under the scarlet hood of her cloak. New +people were at the big house, and there seemed +a deal of bustle going on. She waited in the +vestibule and stared at the brightness, at the +beautiful pictures and decorations where, ever +since she had known the Grange, all had been +damp and decay. She had never seen anything +like this before, and she was enjoying the novelty, +mixed with awe at all the grandeur, when a little<span class="pagenum">[124]</span> +girl richly dressed, about three years old, ran up +to her. Nancy dropped a little bob of a curtsey, +as her grandmother had taught her to do to the +gentry.</p> + +<p>Little Iris was not at all shy, and was full of +one thought only—the thought of Christmas—so +that she burst out with: "D'you know to-morrow's +Christmas Day?" and, without waiting +for a reply, she babbled on: "I'm going to have +such boo'ful things—a dolly that sends kisses, a +pamberlator for her to ride in, a gold watch with +real ticks, and a titten with real scratches. Guess +who'll bring them."</p> + +<p>"Her ladyship?" ventured Nancy, dazzled at +such a haul of magnificence.</p> + +<p>"No, not Mummy," exclaimed Iris, capering with +delight and revealing more of her frills and laces.</p> + +<p>"I can't guess, Miss," said Nancy, smiling +through her diffidence—which was just what Iris +wanted her to say.</p> + +<p>"It's Santa Claus! Santa Claus always brings +me just what I want. Isn't it clever?"</p> + +<p>"Who's Santa Claus? Is it your aunt, Miss?"</p> + +<p>"I'm 'peaking to you about Santa Claus—a +gen'lman. I've not seen him—never been able to +catch him yet."</p> + +<p>"Catch him! But who tells him what you +want?" She was getting quite interested.<span class="pagenum">[125]</span></p> + +<p>"The little bird."</p> + +<p>Nancy felt completely mystified. What a different +world this seemed to hers!</p> + +<p>"What toys are <i>you</i> going to get?" continued +Iris.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no <i>toys</i>. I live in the cottage in the forest. +Dad is always so busy, and I help him look out +for poachers—so I have useful presents, I don't +have toys. Granny gave me this warm cloak last +year; and then, Dad's pockets get so full of sweets +that they last for months."</p> + +<p>"Sweets and useful things aren't p'esents," said +Iris, surprised. "Poor little girl! Wouldn't you +like toys?" she added.</p> + +<p>"I think so, Miss—at least, I've not seen many. +Cousin Janey has a skipping-rope and a workbox, +but she won't let me touch them."</p> + +<p>"Ah! you've been here long enough, Iris +darling. I hear Nurse calling you," exclaimed +a soft voice, and her ladyship, with a kindly look +at the visitor, laughingly caught up her little +daughter in her arms before the child even knew +she was there. Then she received the message, +gave the little messenger a slice of cake, and in +a moment Nancy was leisurely munching the fee +as she trudged her way back on the grass through +the frosty park. The dusk was gathering, when +suddenly in the stillness she heard a dull thwack<span class="pagenum">[126]</span> +as of a stick against a branch—which caused her +to stop and listen. She knew what the sound +meant.</p> + +<p>"That's one of those poachers: he's knocked +down a pheasant, I'll be bound!" said the gamekeeper's +daughter to herself. "I'll just be after +him!" and, gathering her skirts close around her, +she crept through into a thick plantation. She +had the intrepid fearlessness of her father, whose +companion on his rounds she had been, when no +danger was thought to be afoot, ever since she was +old enough to ride pickaback. It came quite +natural to her to help him, and though the old +grandmother grumbled at her boyish ways she +said nothing, for the child was obedient enough, +and could read and write and sew; and, moreover, +her son would brook no interference with his +treasure—especially since her mother had died.</p> + +<p>"Drop that!" cried Nancy. "Who's there?"</p> + +<p>Hearing only a girl's voice, a rough-looking +fellow emerged grinning from behind a tree, with +the dead bird he had just picked up in his hand. +A limp bag was slung over his shoulder, a stout +staff was in his other hand, and a snarling +"lurcher" dog slunk at his feet.</p> + +<p>"Steady, Muffins!" said the man, giving the +cowering animal a gentle kick as a reminder. +"Now, Missy, what can I do for you?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 464px;"> +<a name="z166" id="z166"></a> +<img src="images/z166.jpg" width="464" height="600" alt=""You can just hand over that pheasant"" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">"You can just hand over that pheasant"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[127]</span></p> + +<p>"You can just hand me over that pheasant. +Ah! it's you, is it? I know you, Tom Grollins, +and I'll report you to the gamekeeper."</p> + +<p>The poacher gazed at her stupidly for a moment. +"Give you the blessed bird and be reported too, +Missy? Come, that ain't 'ardly fair, is it? (<i>Will</i> +yer lie down, Muffins?) Now look 'ere. If I give +yer the bird, will y'promise not to say a word as +it was Tom Grollins—on yer davey, now? Will +y'promise, Missy?"</p> + +<p>She nodded. Tom Grollins was not very strong +of intellect, and he was a known coward, and as +the sound of a carriage was heard close by, the +bargain was hastily concluded; the pheasant was +handed over without further parley on the undertaking +of the promise—"No names."</p> + +<p>The promise, of course, Nancy faithfully kept +when she delivered to her father the bird she had +demanded with such pluck and authority, and told +him how she had got it. The gamekeeper laughed, +remarking that he wouldn't press her, but could +make a pretty shrewd guess if he chose. However, +she was worth her weight in gold, he said, and he +patted her on the head for a trump—and Nancy +felt uncommonly proud. But she didn't quite +understand what he meant when he said that +terms such as she had made would not be quite +approved of by the Lord Chancellor.<span class="pagenum">[128]</span></p> + +<p>Then as Granny came in Nancy told of all she +had seen, and of all the wonderful presents the +tiny lady at the Grange was going to receive at +Christmas, because she wanted them; and that a +gentleman staying at the house called Mr. Santa +Claus gave them, and knew what to get, because a +bird—a parrot, she supposed—had heard and told +him what the little lady wanted.</p> + +<p>That night when Nancy was in bed she could +think of nothing else but Santa Claus and the +wonderful toys; and the thoughts were just beginning +to get confused with a greatly envied +skipping-rope and workbox, when she suddenly sat +bolt upright in bed wide awake.</p> + +<p>Her room was a tiny one leading off the kitchen, +and in the moonlight she had just seen Tom +Grollins pass by—this time with a full bag on his +back, and the faithful Muffins was close at his +heels.</p> + +<p>"Well, I never did!" exclaimed Nancy, in her +astonishment and vexation unconsciously quoting +her grandmother; "I <i>never</i> did! Now what's to +be done? Gran's no use—Dad's out. But Dad's +sure to find that wicked poacher," she reflected, on +hearing the clock strike nine: "he's in the forest, +and can't be far." And she lay back, relieved at +the thought that her father had suspiciously refused +the invitation of a shabby, gaitered, and very<span class="pagenum">[129]</span> +doubtful sportsman, to drink Christmas in with +mulled beer at the village tavern. She had heard +her father remark afterwards that he wanted "to +be within earshot of gunshot." So she wouldn't +worry, for Tom wouldn't get the things after all.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>After a time Nancy changed her mind. As in +a dream, but not feeling a bit sleepy, she quickly +donned her cloak, stealthily opened the kitchen +door so as not to disturb the old lady, and hastened +out into the night. Curiously enough, she didn't +feel cold in the bleak air—and in her hurry she +never even noticed she was without shoes or +stockings.</p> + +<p>In front of her was a man, and she quickened +her pace. She soon overtook him—sooner than +she expected, for dark clouds overshadowed the +moon, and she was at his side before she knew it.</p> + +<p>"Tom Grollins!" she exclaimed, breathless and +indignant: "how dare you! I've caught you +again!"</p> + +<p>"I'm not Tom Grollins," replied her companion +in a deep, manly voice, in which a funny chuckle +seemed to rumble.</p> + +<p>For a moment the child hesitated. It certainly +didn't sound like Tom Grollins's whiny treble, but +then—perhaps he was pretending, so as to put her +off.<span class="pagenum">[130]</span></p> + +<p>"Yes, you are," she retorted firmly. "Now, +what are you doing here?"</p> + +<p>"It's a secret."</p> + +<p>"You're after poaching again. I shall report +you to Dad. And," she added severely, "you've +just got to give me this very minute all you've got +in that bag."</p> + +<p>"All in my bag? Softly, softly: wouldn't that +be highway robbery, with threats?" answered the +jolly voice, and with a laugh—"Oh, greedy!"</p> + +<p>Nancy stopped and stared hard, but it was too +dark for her to see him, as she had done from her +bed. He had stopped too.</p> + +<p>"Who are you, then?" she asked lamely.</p> + +<p>"Santa Claus," came the reply.</p> + +<p>"Santa Claus!" repeated the child in astonishment.</p> + +<p>The dark cloud-wrack happened to part, and +Nancy saw towering above her the dearest and most +imposing old gentleman imaginable, with a large +smiling face and long white beard. White curly +hair fringed his holly-decked scarlet cap, and his +long, loose, red coat revealed here and there glimpses +of scarlet plush beneath. Instead of rabbits and +pheasants, he was laden with the newest of toys; +and as to Muffins, he was nowhere to be seen—unless +he was that toy-dog dangling from the +overflowing bag, and wearing a leather collar with +<span class="pagenum">[131]</span>bell attached, and a leather muzzle that ought to +allay the fears of the most nervous.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 453px;"> +<a name="z172" id="z172"></a> +<img src="images/z172.jpg" width="453" height="600" alt=""Who are you, then?"" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">"Who are you, then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, little woman, I am Santa Claus—himself!" +he repeated, with his jolly chuckle.</p> + +<p>"I—I—beg your pardon," stammered Nancy, +quite confused.</p> + +<p>"It's all right," he replied good-humouredly. +"Now shall I see you home before I continue my +rounds?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, may I come with you?" The words had +dropped out of her mouth before she could stop +herself.</p> + +<p>Santa Claus shook his head. "Come with me, +indeed? I should think not! Come with me? +'Pon my word!" Then he hesitated and smiled, +and said kindly, "Well, come along, dear. You're +a good, brave little girl. But you must know I've +never made such an exception before. However, +it's so odd to find a child who doesn't know me—even +such a little village mouse as you—that we +must really make one another's acquaintance."</p> + +<p>He drew Nancy under his cloak to keep her extra +warm, and to hide her from view, and he showed +her how she could peep out. Then he took her by +the hand, and the quaint pair proceeded along the +mysterious-looking forest until they came to the +part Nancy loved best. There, heaps and heaps of +fir-trees grew, the tall ones protecting the wee ones,<span class="pagenum">[132]</span> +and the wee ones doing their best to try and grow +tall too.</p> + +<p>Santa Claus stood still, and looked around, as if +in preparation of some important matter. Nancy +felt something was going to happen, and she peered +up into the face of her guide.</p> + +<p>"Father Christmas has come!" he proclaimed +loudly at last.</p> + +<p>And then what a change there was! The fir-trees +all became Christmas-trees, lighted each one—big +and little—with candles, blue or green, yellow or +red, each burning with the same coloured light. +And from the diamond-frosted branches hung toys +innumerable. At the top of each tree stood +triumphant a fairy-doll with wand outstretched.</p> + +<p>Nancy clasped her hands with rapture at the +sight. "Oh, Santa Claus!" was all she could +exclaim.</p> + +<p>He lifted her on to his shoulder, and let her gaze +until she had gazed enough. Now, indeed, she +realised what toys were—whence they came, and +how they grew.</p> + +<p>Then she felt he was carrying her away, and her +heart beat with curiosity and excitement, for she +knew Santa Claus was proceeding on his rounds to +pay visits to all the sleeping children who deserved +it, while she was clinging to his dear old neck, and +would see all that went on.<span class="pagenum">[133]</span></p> + +<p>The first visit was to Iris at the Grange, whither +Santa Claus was already on his way. They entered +the pretty bedroom, where the spoilt little lady was +smiling in anticipation in her sleep; and the "dolly, +pamberlator, watch, and titten with real scratches" +(immovably asleep) were all produced as though by +some conjuring trick from Santa Claus's basket or +deep pockets, and duly placed to meet the child's +eager glance on her waking.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Santa Claus," whispered Nancy, who had +been wondering all the time, "how did we get here?"</p> + +<p>"Chimney!" he whispered back.</p> + +<p>"Chimney?"</p> + +<p>Santa Claus nodded.</p> + +<p>This didn't make her much wiser, for to her +knowledge she had never seen the inside of a chimney +in her life; but she forgot to pursue the subject +now that something more interesting was going on.</p> + +<p>Iris had vanished, and a pale little boy lay asleep +in a room above a flower shop.</p> + +<p>"He doesn't care for toys," whispered Santa +Claus; "he loves that pink geranium by his side." +And a gaily painted watering-pot was placed next +to his flowering possession. "How white in comparison +with the blossom the suffering, pinched little +face looks on the pillow!" thought Nancy; "he +<i>will</i> be pleased." Before they left, Santa Claus +filled the can with water from the cracked toilet jug.<span class="pagenum">[134]</span></p> + +<p>In the large house across the way were sounds of +bright music—a party was going on.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid it's too early to go there yet," said +Santa Claus, consulting his great watch. "However, +we'll go and see; it's really high time for all +youngsters to be in bed." In the night-nursery +were two cots. Both were empty. "I must call +on my way back," he said.</p> + +<p>Just then the door opened, and childish voices +were heard shouting: "Santa Claus! We'll catch +him if we're quick!"</p> + +<p>And there was only just time for the two +travellers to disappear before the lights were turned +up and the owners of the cots rushed in.</p> + +<p>"Nearly caught that time!" exclaimed Santa +Claus, as they proceeded on their way (it was extraordinary +how alert and agile he was for such an old +and portly gentleman), and he burst out into a loud +laugh, and only recovered from it as they entered +a long room full of small beds. It was decorated +with holly and mistletoe. A light burned at one +end, where sat a pleasant-looking nurse half-screened +in the corner by the fire.</p> + +<p>Nancy followed Santa Claus's movements with +breathless interest as he flitted to each little sleeping +occupant of the hospital ward—for such it was—placing +here a toy horse of skin and harness with a +long wavy tail; there a lovely picture-book with a<span class="pagenum">[135]</span> +green cover, on which the title was printed in large +gold letters.</p> + +<p>Twice only did Nancy heave a little sigh, quickly +repressed, and her eyes filled with longing: once +when a skipping-rope was loosely tied round the +clasped hands of a little girl who was convalescent, +and was going to leave, as Santa Claus explained; +and once again when, creeping on tiptoe, he placed +under the chair of the dozing nurse a very smart +workbox, with the name engraved on top.</p> + +<p>Every now and then Santa Claus would linger +to smooth the look of pain from a little suffering +face into a smile, or touch with his cool palm a +little fevered hand.</p> + +<p>As she trotted round with him, tears of pity and +happy sympathy filled Nancy's eyes, and she tried +to give Santa Claus a good hug—only she couldn't +reach half-way round—while he tenderly wiped +those tears on his big cuff, and carried her off, a +long way, to a very poor cottage. There they +peeped round from behind the door.</p> + +<p>Everything looked bright, and sounded happy too, +and every now and again, amid the laughter and +the chatter, the arrival of Santa Claus was gaily +prophesied. Three little girls were dancing round +three of those tiny decorated Christmas-trees +Nancy had seen that eve, and their parents, looking +on happily, echoed their exclamations of joy. She<span class="pagenum">[136]</span> +was surprised to see so much jollity in so poor a +place; but Santa Claus didn't seem to be so—he +merely muttered, "It's all right this year!" and +withdrew with her the same way they had come.</p> + +<p>"And now," remarked Santa Claus cheerily, +"before I go back to the party children or do +anything else I must visit all the other hospitals. +I've brought you home because you must be very +tired, little woman. I'm terribly busy to-night—half +afraid I shan't get it over in time: just think +of the disappointment if I don't! So good-night, +Nancy! Pleasant dreams! A Merry Christmas +and a Happy New Year!"</p> + +<p>And his kind face bent over her in bed, as it had +over so many others that Christmas Eve; and as +he pressed her hand he added, with a smile, "I've +a terrible lot to do, and I mustn't forget <i>anybody</i>!"</p> + +<p>The dawn heralded once again a Christmas Day, +and when the sun peeped forth he awoke Nancy. +She looked round, and uttered a cry of surprise and +delight. For before her astonished eyes she seemed +to see a little fairy-land all to herself. Grouped +about her bed were a skipping-rope, a workbox—both +handsomer than Janey's—and a little box +besides. She couldn't believe they were real, so +she felt them all over, and not only found they were +quite real, but the little box when it was touched +sent forth the most lovely, mysterious music.<span class="pagenum">[137]</span></p> + +<p>"Dear, kind, darling Santa Claus!" exclaimed +Nancy. Then she saw that beside them there was +also a plum pudding with a Christmas card attached, +from the new mistress of the Grange. What was +puzzling was that on a chair close by hung three +pairs of her father's new socks with a paper asking +her to mark them; but they were marked already, +and were full of good things to eat.</p> + +<p>Never in all her nine years had Nancy had such +a Christmas. After saying her morning prayers, +she sat down at the table, where, with elbows outspread +and her little tongue peeping out as she +moved her pen, she wrote the following letter:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Mr. Claus</span>,—Thank you very much for +those lovely presents: I like them very much. And +thank you for the lovely time I had going about +with you last night. I shall never forget it. +Please forgive me for thinking you were the wicked +poacher, Tom Grollins. I must now say good-bye.</p> + +<p>"I send you 200 kisses (x x x etsetra).</p> + +<p class="author"> +"Your grateful little friend,<br> +"<span class="smcap">Nancy Rogers</span>."</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>And then she addressed it to him at the Grange.</p> + +<p>When Nancy had stamped and posted it, her +grandmother and her father came in to breakfast, +and received Nancy's grateful thanks, for she wore +a pretty new frock. Then she told them that as<span class="pagenum">[138]</span> +she had hurried back from the post-box, so as not +to be late for breakfast, she had heard the head +gardener say to the butler that Tom Grollins had +been seen that night striding quietly along with a +big bag well stuffed.</p> + +<p>"But, Dad," continued his daughter with conviction, +"it isn't true. I'm sure it's a mistake."</p> + +<p>"Why isn't it true, lass?" inquired her father. +"It's likelier to be true than not."</p> + +<p>"Because I made the same mistake myself," +said Nancy.</p> + +<p>"Well, it would take a good deal to persuade +me that my little meeting with that slippery rascal +turned out to be a mistake!" exclaimed the gamekeeper, +as he set down his cup and smiled with satisfaction. +"When did you meet him, little woman?"</p> + +<p>"Last night."</p> + +<p>"And who do you fancy it was, dearie?" asked +the old grandmother.</p> + +<p>"I <i>know</i> who it was, Gran. It was Mr. Santa +Claus!" As they smiled still, she ran and fetched +his presents she was anxious to show.</p> + +<p>And Nancy knew she was right, and that it <i>was</i> +Santa Claus, for nothing more was heard of the +poacher Tom Grollins for ever so long, and every one +Nancy asked seemed to know all about Santa Claus +having been on his rounds that night—even those +who hadn't seen him.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 565px;"> +<a name="z182" id="z182"></a> +<img src="images/z182.jpg" width="565" height="546" alt="She ran and fetched his presents she was anxious to show" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">She ran and fetched his presents she was anxious to show</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[139]</span></p> + +<h2><a name="ALL_ON_A_FIFTH_OF_NOVEMBER" id="ALL_ON_A_FIFTH_OF_NOVEMBER"></a>ALL ON A FIFTH OF NOVEMBER</h2> + +<p class="h3">MORNING</p> + +<p>It might have been the middle of the night; but +it wasn't—it was Guy Fawkes' Day, and eight +o'clock on a foggy morning. The London square +was more than usually hushed and mournful, except +for a warning call or whistle as a van cautiously +lumbered along, or blundered on to the pavement. +The nursery fire did its best to look cheerful: the +lights were all on too, showing up the bright +pictures on the walls and the bright faces of the three +children who were chattering gaily at the breakfast-table. +And they all looked so smart! Alec and +Frank in their best suits, and tiny Molly wore her +prettiest white frock and her coral necklace, just as +if she were going to a party.</p> + +<p>They soon scrambled off their chairs, and Molly, +standing on tiptoe, seized hold of a bunch of lilies +tied up with ribbon that was on the side table, and +each of her brothers eagerly possessed himself of a +neat brown paper parcel.</p> + +<p>It was Father's birthday. The occasion was always +kept as a holiday, and the children were waiting<span class="pagenum">[140]</span> +for his call to summon them to his dressing-room.</p> + +<p>"I think he must be fifty!" remarked Alec.</p> + +<p>"I fink he's fifteen," said their little sister.</p> + +<p>She spoke in a tone of conviction, accompanied +by a toss of her short curls.</p> + +<p>"Don't be silly, Mollikins," replied the boys with +a laugh; but she said she was sure she was right.</p> + +<p>"Halloa, Kidlets! Come along down!" came +the shout of a manly voice. There was a stampede, +and a race as to who should get there first. Molly +arrived a bad third, but it was she who was first for +him, for he went towards her and picked her up. +She put her free arm around his neck, but instead +of making him her little speech she exclaimed as +he kissed her—</p> + +<p>"Why, Daddy, your chin is full of splinters!"</p> + +<p>The boys delivered their presents, and were +kissed or patted on the head, and thanked, before +Molly parted with the flowers which she held so +tightly in her little fist.</p> + +<p>"Your Babyship is very kind," said her father, +gratefully shaking her by the hand, and, laughing +still, he put her down. Then he took her hint, and +seriously began to shave.</p> + +<p>They knew they mustn't talk to him whilst that +important function was proceeding, so the three +stood still, deeply absorbed as they watched the<span class="pagenum">[141]</span> +performance that fascinated them with its dangers +and its hairbreadth escapes.</p> + +<p>"<i>Now</i> I can kiss my little Mollikins and she won't +complain." He put down the towel, took her up +again, and rubbed his smooth cheek against hers.</p> + +<p>"Daddy, tell me how old you are," she asked, +looking into his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how can I do that? It's a secret."</p> + +<p>"Do whisper it," she coaxed. After a moment's +hesitation he smilingly whispered something into +her ear.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a 'tock of years!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" clamoured Alec. "I'm sure I'm +right."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I am!" asserted Frank.</p> + +<p>"I <i>know</i>!" cried the delighted Molly, bursting +with importance. "May I tell?" Her father nodded. +"Twenty-one!" she exclaimed triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"Bosh! Why, he said he was that last year!" +cried Frank.</p> + +<p>"And the year before," asserted Alec; "and the +year before that—I remember quite well. Father +always says that."</p> + +<p>"Guy!" called their mother just then. "Please +send the children in to me." She was having +her morning tea, so the young people ran into +the adjoining room to hug her and be hugged in +return.<span class="pagenum">[142]</span></p> + +<p class="h3">NOON</p> + +<p>"Sun's tum out!" announced Molly, as she +toddled away from the nursery window.</p> + +<p>"Hooray!" shouted Frank. "It's going to be +fine for this evening!"</p> + +<p>There were going to be great doings. Father's +birthday and Guy Fawkes' Day made a grand double +event long looked forward to with enjoyment.</p> + +<p>"Hooray!" echoed Alec rather feebly, for he was +desperately busy. Outside—now that the fog had +lifted—the busy hum could be heard of everyday +life, mingled with boys' shouts as they trundled a +guy about.</p> + +<p>"I've found something out!" suddenly exclaimed +Alec in a curious voice, and he spread out on the +table the front page of an old <i>Times</i>. "Look here, +Frank!" he continued in growing excitement. +"Here, under the Births—marked with red pencil—'Guy +Thompson!' That's Father—here's the +date. Wait a moment. Now I'll reckon it out. +Hush! Don't say anything while I do the sum. +<i>I say!</i> Father <i>is</i> twenty-one!"</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> knew it!" exclaimed Molly, capering about. +"I told you so."</p> + +<p>"Rubbish!" said Frank. "Molly, do shut up. +Alec, where did you find that paper? How did it +come here?"<span class="pagenum">[143]</span></p> + +<p>"I found it there, on the rocking-chair. It looks +old, and it <i>is</i> old. See, here's the date. It's very +funny! I wish we could find out—it <i>would</i> be jolly +to find out all by ourselves, if this really can be true. +I say, I know who'd tell us. I've heard all about +Somerset House—where you can get to know about +people and their affairs—only I don't know where +the place is, or who lives there."</p> + +<p>"An omlibus will take us anywhere," spoke up +Molly.</p> + +<p>"Who's <i>us</i>?" inquired Frank scornfully.</p> + +<p>"Never mind <i>her</i>," said Alec excitedly. "I'll tell +you what. Listen: this afternoon, when we've got +to be in the play-room, let's go in a cab to Somerset +House, and just get to know once for all. I've got +four shillings in my money-box; what have you +got?"</p> + +<p>"I'll count." Frank counted up to five shillings.</p> + +<p>"The man may want more. Mollikins, what have +you got in your purse?"</p> + +<p>"Dot sixpence."</p> + +<p>"Well, if you pay your share, we'll take you with +us—that is, if you can put on your own hat. I can +help you with your coat." And so it was arranged.</p> + +<p>And at three o'clock that cold afternoon Alec, +Frank, and Molly might have been seen stealing +forth into the keen air; they were supposed to +be playing at marbles in the garret or they might<span class="pagenum">[144]</span> +have been seen, and packed back again. The +boys were well muffled up, and Molly had her hat +on with the back to the front. The three were in +high spirits once they were off, and they realised the +full importance of such an adventure. In Alec's +hand was the sheet of newspaper in which the truth +of the paragraph was to be tested. Alec hailed the +first cab, the driver shook his head. The second +paid no attention. The third asked them who they +thought they were getting at and where they thought +they were going to.</p> + +<p>"Somerset House!" ordered Alec, after quickly +lifting Molly in, and Frank had closed the door +smartly. On the way there they behaved much +better than they usually did when they drove out. +No one fidgeted; no one complained of feeling +hungry, or thirsty, or tired, or anything.</p> + +<p>When they alighted the cabman was told to wait. +Molly and her brothers passed through the imposing +gateway of Somerset House, and were starting to +cross the quadrangle, when they saw the Beadle in +his fine uniform (whom they took to be the Duke), +and learned from him where they could find the room +of which they were in search.</p> + +<p>"Births, please," said Alec, bold as brass, to the +gentleman behind the counter. He was leader and +spokesman whenever they went shopping, and he +was leader and spokesman to-day. Frank never interfered.<span class="pagenum">[145]</span> +And Molly had gone stonily shy. "Births, +please," repeated Alec, impatient at being stared at.</p> + +<p>"What name?" said the gentleman, looking at +them amused.</p> + +<p>"Thompson," replied Alec.</p> + +<p>"Any particular Thompson? You see, we may +have several Thompsons in our entries—five or six +at least."</p> + +<p>"This is Mr. Guy Thompson," said Alec, showing +the marked paragraph.</p> + +<p>"Very well," said the gentleman (who, thought +Alec, must be the Duke's butler). "But have +you got the fee?-the half-crown you must pay +for the search?"</p> + +<p>"A half-crown's very dear," said Alec. "Can't +you do it for less?"</p> + +<p>The gentleman looked at them with kindly eyes. +"I dare say I can," he replied, putting his hand in +his pocket, and rattling some coins. "But I'm +afraid you'll have to pay a shilling. The King +wants one." They paid their shilling for the King; +watched while the gentleman looked up his records, +and followed him into the corridor as he prosecuted +his search. At last he said—</p> + +<p>"Quite right. Born on the fifth of November: +year's all right. It's all in order."</p> + +<p>"Then Father <i>is</i> twenty-one?" queried both +boys doubtfully.<span class="pagenum">[146]</span></p> + +<p>Molly hopped on one foot in suppressed excitement.</p> + +<p>"<i>Your father!</i>" exclaimed the kindly clerk, +handing back the coin. "Why, how old are you?"</p> + +<p>"Ten," replied Alec. "Thank you."</p> + +<p>"And so your father married at the age of ten +or thereabouts, did he? Dear me; very precocious +of him!" exclaimed the clerk, with such a serious +face that the children felt quite uncomfortable. +They had not considered the matter in +that light at all. Their faces fell, and they felt +such a wish they had never come that without a +word of explanation they turned and fled. They +were glad to be once more outside the building, +and thankful to find the cabman still there waiting +to take them back, and in their discomfiture he +was hailed by them joyfully as a dear old friend.</p> + +<p>"Home!" said Alec, when they were inside.</p> + +<p>"And where might that happen to be?" asked +the driver with interest.</p> + +<p>Molly, womanlike, jumped at a conclusion. +"We're lost!" she wailed, and burst into tears, +and it was only when she was in sight of her +own nursery windows that she was comforted, +and smiled once more. Without any inquiry, +all their remaining savings were emptied into the +willing palm of the delighted driver, who bowed +his acknowledgments repeatedly.<span class="pagenum">[147]</span></p> + +<p>The children ran through the garden entrance +unobserved, and had just got their outdoor things +off when the tea-bell rang.</p> + +<p class="h3">NIGHT</p> + +<p>When Alec, Frank, and Molly entered the +drawing-room, where their parents were in readiness, +for the great annual frolic with Father, they +didn't tumble in as was their usual habit; they +walked in sedately. They had something important +to say.</p> + +<p>"Truly, Daddy, how old are you?" asked Molly, +running up to him. She wouldn't be hushed down +by the boys. She felt she wanted to make sure +of what she already knew.</p> + +<p>"I told you I was twenty-one, of course! One +always expects such a nice lot of presents when +one is twenty-one! But you two young rascals +evidently think I really must be a very old man of +forty at least!" he replied, smiling.</p> + +<p>"And does he never grow older, Mummy?"</p> + +<p>"I don't see it, Molly darling."</p> + +<p>"Do you ever see the <i>Times</i>, boys?" he +inquired.</p> + +<p>"That's just what's so queer," said Alec. "I've +got it here." Alec noticed the glance which his +parents exchanged, and their expression of astonishment +when Frank remarked<span class="pagenum">[148]</span>—</p> + +<p>"We took it with us this afternoon to Somerset +House."</p> + +<p>"Yes," corroborated Alec.</p> + +<p>"Me, too," chimed in Molly.</p> + +<p>And then they told of all they had done, and +their parents tried to look grave, but couldn't, and +could scarcely speak for laughing, though they +extorted a promise that nothing of the kind should +ever again be attempted without permission.</p> + +<p>"Surely, what is in the <i>Times</i>," reasoned their +father, "must be true—at least one must presume +so."</p> + +<p>"Halloa," broke in Alec. "I say, Frank! Look +here! This Guy Thompson was born in Cambridge +Square! I never noticed that. Weren't you born +in Oxford Square, Father?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I think I might just as well have been +born in one as in the other. All I know is, that +if I <i>was</i> twenty-one, I am twenty-one—<i>and</i> the +rest—you never asked me how many more. Come +along, boys, now for our cushion-fight! But first +of all, here are your expenses back again—your +Babyship, there's your sixpence—and now I really +can't wait any longer for a romp!"</p> + +<p>Soon the room was gay with laughter. Father, +too, had to be a real guy and a "pretend" one, +pushed about in the arm-chair with a funny long +nose spoiling his jolly face. And afterwards they<span class="pagenum">[149]</span> +all danced whilst their mother played a hornpipe—and +really it <i>was</i> very difficult to guess Father's +years, they might have been anything!</p> + +<p>Then he suddenly ran out. There was a rush to +the window, the blind was drawn up, and soon, in +the darkness of the night, a grand catharine-wheel +was seen whizzing round in a blaze of dripping +fire. Then such a glorious shoot of rockets arose! +Whish! bang! whish! bang! they went as they +burst, each of them, into a shower of gorgeous +stars all purple, and green, and gold.</p> + +<p>"A—a—h!" exclaimed the three children, gazing +with rapture. And—</p> + +<p>"A—a—h!" they repeated over and over and +over again, as splendour followed splendour, and +the sky was powdered again and again with sparks +of coloured fire. + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[150]</span> + +<h2><a name="FATHER_CHRISTMAS_AT_HOME" id="FATHER_CHRISTMAS_AT_HOME"></a>FATHER CHRISTMAS AT HOME</h2> + +<p class="h3">TWILIGHT</p> + +<p>It was afternoon on a cold December day. Eva, +all alone in the schoolroom, sat down on the +hearthrug and looked thoughtfully into the fire. +She was, however, not quite alone, for her tiny +Yorkshire terrier sprang on her lap, and after +turning round and round, pawing at her frock as +though to make a comfortable hollow, settled +cosily down.</p> + +<p>"Dot," she said, smoothing the hair back from its +eyes, "I'm very miserable. To-morrow is Christmas +Eve, and every one is happy except me. I'm +in trouble again. Somehow, I'm always in trouble—I've +spoilt my velvet frock washing your feet—and +you didn't want them washed, did you?" The +Honourable Dot—to give it its full title—looked +desirous of forgetting the incident, then licked her +hand as a reply seemed expected.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps if I had some brothers and sisters +they'd get into mischief sometimes, and it wouldn't +always be me." Dot paid no heed to her +grammar, was bored, and sighed heavily.<span class="pagenum">[151]</span></p> + +<p>"I really didn't mean it when I said, 'I gloried +in being naughty.' Don't snore, Honourable! +There'll be complaints from next door."</p> + +<p>It was curious, but Eva was having remorse, +brought on by all the talk of Peace and Goodwill +which was in the air. "I've tried things before," +she muttered; "but I know what I'll do this time," +she exclaimed, "I'll give a cot to a hospital!"</p> + +<p>The little dog growled a protest as she suddenly +got up from the floor. Eva counted the money in +her money-box. "I've five shillings all but three +farthings. I'm sure that is nothing like enough!" +she mused. "It must cost at least a million +sterling pounds!" Tears came into her eyes, but +they flowed down on to a smile, as she thought of +some one who always managed to do kind deeds +and who might help her. Father Christmas! +Eva thought of asking no less a person than +Father Christmas himself to advise her. But how +to find him and get a nice quiet chat with him was +the difficulty. That he would come to her on +Christmas Eve she had no doubt, as he never +forgot her; but she had only managed to be awake +and see him once, a long time ago, and then she +but got a glimpse of him, for he rushed out of her +room as though in a terrible hurry.</p> + +<p>Dot's little mistress slept badly that night; she +was racking her brain as to how she could manage<span class="pagenum">[152]</span> +to remain awake so as to see Father Christmas +when he came, and then how she could coax him +to stay for a talk—for she knew quite well how +busy he must be when he was on his rounds.</p> + +<p>The following afternoon, during a general rummage +that was going on to find tiny candles and +coloured glass balls that were over from last year's +Christmas tree, Eva picked up a scrap of printed +paper, which had come out of an old cracker. She +took it upstairs to her favourite spot on the hearthrug, +and read it aloud to Dot:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Father Christmas sends this note<br></span> +<span class="i0">From out his mansion by the moat,<br></span> +<span class="i0">To all who live on land and sea,<br></span> +<span class="i0">To honour Christmas Day with glee—<br></span> +<span class="i0">Inviting them to pass his way,<br></span> +<span class="i0">With glee to honour Christmas Day."<br></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Eva flushed with excitement. "Why, it's a +message from him!" she cried. "It's some kind +of invitation!" and she gave Dot such a squeeze +of delight that the little creature squeaked shrilly, +scurried off, and laid low under the table.</p> + +<p>She thought and puzzled and pondered over the +lines she had just read. At last she grasped their +meaning. "Of course! How simple, after all!" +she concluded. "He lives at some moated house, +and I must go to him, not wait for him to come to<span class="pagenum">[153]</span> +me. He always comes down the chimney—that's +the way I must go up!"</p> + +<p>Eva didn't hesitate a moment. The opportunity +had come for which she longed. She ran downstairs +into the large, old-fashioned hall, which was +overheated as usual, by the hot-air pipes, for the +huge chimney-place was too much of a curiosity +ever to be used. Here, she felt sure, was the +starting-point of her adventure.</p> + +<p>Luckily no one was about. It was windy when +she looked up the great chimney, so she took her +long, fair hair, and made it into a loose plait in +order to keep it from blowing about her face. +Then she prepared to start and secure the first +footing.</p> + +<p>Eva had never been up a chimney before, and +when she began climbing she was quite surprised +to find how nice and clean it was, with steps, and +all white tiles. She toiled up, and up, and could +see blue sky and fleeting white clouds above. +After a time she stopped to rest in a little recess +in the chimney side. When she started climbing +again, the blue sky faded away, twilight came +on, and in this very, very long chimney the light +became quite dim.</p> + +<p>Very soon, however, she felt with a little thrill +of pleasure the keen air all around her head and +shoulders, and she knew she had come to the top.<span class="pagenum">[154]</span> +Fortunately there was a ladder—already placed for +Father Christmas to mount—and down that she +went, looking below all the time so as not to make +a false step. It was a very, very long ladder indeed, +and Eva began to think she would have to +go on stepping down for ever, when at last she +found herself on the ground again—in a country +field with hoar frost stiffening the blades of grass, +across which she ran straight ahead as hard as +ever she could go.</p> + +<p class="h3">STARLIGHT</p> + +<p>Once only did she halt by the side of a lane to +consider what she should do if she couldn't find +her destination after all. Two robins alighted in +front of her, hopped about, and fluttered forward; +they were so persistent that they interested her +and she followed them. They flew along a side +path, and Eva ran after them—ran till she arrived +eager and breathless at a wooden bridge, and found +that she was in a park; that above her was the +dark vault of heaven decked out in all its diamonds; +that the bridge led across a moat; and +that in front of her was a splendid old country +mansion brilliantly lighted up, where the robins +alighted on a window-sill, and paying no further +attention to her, busied themselves with crumbs.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 391px;"> +<a name="z200" id="z200"></a> +<img src="images/z200.jpg" width="391" height="600" alt="It was a very, very long ladder" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">It was a very, very long ladder</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[155]</span></p> + +<p>Then Eva advanced, almost in spite of herself, +went up the front steps, and standing on tiptoe, +lifted the knocker and let it fall. The knocker +resounded for a while musically, like a peal of +bells; when they ceased, the door opened, and a +very ancient man confronted her. He was tall +and thin and bent, and was dressed in draperies, +with bare legs, and he had a funny little curl in the +middle of his bald forehead.</p> + +<p>"Is Father Christmas at home, please?" faltered +Eva.</p> + +<p>"Yes, little Madam," came the reply. "Do +you want to see him? Really? But you will be +astonished—I warn you. Aren't you frightened?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit," replied Eva.</p> + +<p>"Brave little girl!" said the very ancient man. +"Come in!" and he ushered her into an old oak-panelled +room. It had a delicious sense of comfort, +and a delight about it which, for the moment, +she didn't try to define. Her attention was attracted +by catching sight of what she thought was +her own reflection in the large mirror against the +wall—it was a little girl who came in at the same +time, and was of exactly her own height. As she +looked closer she saw that the other child was +uglier than herself, unkind in expression, slovenly +in appearance, and tried to hide herself, rather, in +the dark corner where she remained. And Eva,<span class="pagenum">[156]</span> +in the novel surroundings, soon forgot all about +her.</p> + +<p>At the far end was a great log fire, and near it a +huge arm-chair, in which sat a stout, healthy, red-faced +old gentleman warmly wrapped in a crimson +dressing-gown; he was leaning back, thinking or +dozing. Eva advanced with soft steps. She was +full of eagerness and excitement, for she recognised +the white-bearded, handsome old face at once from +the many coloured portraits she had seen. It was +Father Christmas himself! Eva never knew what +impelled her to do it, but when she got close to +him she simply threw her arms around his neck +and kissed him.</p> + +<p>"Bless my soul!" exclaimed Father Christmas, +starting; and catching her up, he seated her on his +knee. He recognised her at once. "How you've +grown since last year, Eva!" and he looked at her +with beaming eyes. "I suppose you know you're +trespassing? and the penalty is forty crackers or a +kiss!" And he chuckled and laughed so merrily +that she felt quite comfortable, finding trespassing +a very pleasant occupation, and wasn't a bit +alarmed at the penalty.</p> + +<p>"And what brings me this honour?" he continued.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, Father Christmas," spoke up +Eva quite boldly. "I'm afraid I disturbed you."<span class="pagenum">[157]</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 454px;"> +<a name="z204" id="z204"></a> +<img src="images/z204.jpg" width="454" height="492" alt=""I suppose you know you're trespassing?"" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">"I suppose you know you're trespassing?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, you've disturbed me all right," he +replied briskly, "but I was only resting a little +after my labours before going on my rounds to-night."</p> + +<p>"What labours?"</p> + +<p>"Toys. Toys and sweets. I've been making +toys and things all the year through, and have only<span class="pagenum">[158]</span> +just got them finished in time. I love making +crackers, too; I spend all my evenings writing +mottoes for them."</p> + +<p>"I found your invitation, Mr. Christmas."</p> + +<p>"Bless me! did you now? Ah!" He stroked +his beard thoughtfully for a moment and remained +silent. Eva looked about her in amazement.</p> + +<p>"Those are all secrets!" he observed after a +time. Father Christmas included with a sweep of +the arm the toys which were everywhere about—hanging +from the ceiling, lying about on the tables +and sofas, standing as ornaments on the mantelpiece, +filling the shelves of the bookcases, peeping +from behind the glass cabinets—toys wherever one +looked.</p> + +<p>He arose, and taking her by the hand, led her +round to enjoy the pretty sight; and paying no +attention whatever to the sullen little girl in the +corner, he asked Eva if she would like to see +around his domain. "Oh yes, yes," she cried. +She quite appreciated the special honour that was +being done her.</p> + +<p>"They'll be coming in here soon to pack," he +added. "I'm going to leave all these secrets +myself at their destinations."</p> + +<p>There was a tremendous bustle going on at +the rear of the premises, where a whole army of +packers, carriers, postmen, and porters were hurrying<span class="pagenum">[159]</span> +about letting down toys from the loft, packing +them, labelling them to places far and wide; loading +them on huge vans which came rumbling in +and out of the courtyard with cracking of whips, +and parting shouts of "Good luck!"</p> + +<p>Superintending the arrangements, walking to +and fro, was the very ancient man. He was so +alert, and always on the spot where wanted, yet +Eva was thinking his age must at least be two +hundred, when Father Christmas said kindly: +"My dear, this is my father—he is known as +Father Time, and you have known him without +having really met him face to face before."</p> + +<p>"I didn't recognise him, and I didn't know he +was your father, sir," she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes. Don't you know that my full +name is Christmas Time?"</p> + +<p>"Of course it is," she exclaimed with a laugh.</p> + +<p>The next visit was through a covered way to the +printing works—where the mottoes and "directions" +for toys and Father Christmas's visiting +cards were printed. These cards were all different +in design, and each was a beautiful picture +stamped with his name, and his own motto, +"Peace and Goodwill."</p> + +<p>Behind was the sweet factory, with its tempting +packets and muslin stockings of all sizes full of +sugar-plums. But, as Father Time appeared,<span class="pagenum">[160]</span> +Father Christmas whispered that he feared they +must not linger, and led the way up a spiral +staircase in order to enable Eva to have a peep +into the toy-loft, where men were letting the toys +down into the busy yard below. How she would +have loved to stay longer in each delightful place, +but without a murmur she followed her guide below +and back to the oak-panelled room. It looked so +bare and different without the toys—much like any +ordinary room.</p> + +<p>"And now, my dear," he said, "you must excuse +me for a short time, as I must go upstairs and get +ready."</p> + +<p>"Please, ought I to be going?" she asked +politely.</p> + +<p>"No, no. Not yet." And he went away, up +the grand staircase, to his bedroom. There he +took from the drawer his scarlet fur-lined cloak +and hood with wide swansdown trimming, which +had been put away in lavender, chose his thickest +top-boots, and humming a song, proceeded to array +himself for the long, cold journey in store for him +that night.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the moment he left his little visitor +downstairs, the strange-looking child approached +her.</p> + +<p>"What's your name?" asked Eva pleasantly.</p> + +<p>"Eva," came the surly reply.<span class="pagenum">[161]</span></p> + +<p>"Why, that's my name!"</p> + +<p>"Of course. I know you, I know you through +and through—good and bad—and I wish I +didn't."</p> + +<p>"You're a horrid story-teller," said Eva angrily.</p> + +<p>"Supposing I am! It's easier to tell stories +than to tell the truth. Saves a lot of trouble. +Besides, it's nice. You know that as well as +I do."</p> + +<p>Eva would have liked to deny it, only she felt +too scornful. "<i>Saves</i> trouble?" she said to herself. +"<i>Makes</i> trouble." But she flushed as she remembered +she had once thought that too, but only for +a moment; and she was ashamed of it now. She +was ruffled and uncomfortable at the proximity of +this horrid girl, who now said slyly: "Look over +there in that cupboard, there's a doll that has been +forgotten. I want it, and I'm going to take it and +hide it under my pinafore."</p> + +<p>"You mayn't—you mustn't!" cried Eva. "It +would be stealing."</p> + +<p>"I don't care. Father Christmas won't know."</p> + +<p>"Yes, he will. I shall tell him!"</p> + +<p>"Then I'll say it was given to me."</p> + +<p>"You horrid girl! You dreadful story-teller!"</p> + +<p>"Don't be silly. What does it matter telling +stories and stealing, so long as you're not found +out?"<span class="pagenum">[162]</span></p> + +<p>"It's just as bad if you're not found out. But +you are <i>bound</i> to be found out," cried Eva, in +horror and disgust as she saw her approach the +coveted treasure. "I tell you, wicked people are +always found out; they never escape unpunished."</p> + +<p>"I want it, and I'm going to have it."</p> + +<p>"You mustn't. Come away—you shan't!" +shouted Eva, running after her; and she seized her +by both wrists. "Come away! Oh, do come away!"</p> + +<p>"You fool! leave me alone. Get away!" and +with a scoffing laugh the girl shook herself free, +sprang on a sofa, opened the cupboard, and +stretched out her hand.</p> + +<p>Without a word Eva threw herself upon her, +slammed-to the glass door, and in the struggle they +fell together on the floor. There was a crash +of broken glass, and through the noise Eva heard +the voice of her opponent saying faintly: "Let me +go! You have won!"</p> + +<p>When she got up, carefully shaking the bits of +glass from her frock, and looked round, the horrid +little girl had disappeared. The next moment her +host stood in the doorway with a curious smile on +his face.</p> + +<p>"I'm going now," he said; "will you come?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, please, Father Christmas," exclaimed Eva +ruefully, as she looked at the glass on the floor, +"do wait! I want to explain something—I——"<span class="pagenum">[163]</span></p> + +<p>"I can't keep my father waiting," he answered +gently. She followed him to the front door. +There in the frosty night a beautiful sledge was +in waiting, hung with baskets and sacks overflowing +with toys and sweets. Father Christmas +took his seat and beckoned to Eva. To her joy +he lifted her on to his lap and wrapped his great +coat about her. Father Time, who was on the +box, shook the reins, and the two reindeer, impatient +to be off, sped rapidly away amid the +jangling of bells, carrying the travellers over the +bridge, through the park, past holly and fir trees +all powdered with glistening frost, out over the +country into the bright, crisp night.</p> + +<p class="h3">MOONLIGHT</p> + +<p>There was Eva with Father Christmas, all snug +amongst his soft furs, on his rounds. "Why do +you take some toys yourself," she asked, "and +send others away in the great carts?"</p> + +<p>"Those in the carts are for my export and +wholesale trade—shops, and so on; these <i>I</i> take +are for my special favourites. You're on my list, +my dear, you know." Eva's heart was full of +tenderness and pride, but tears were in her eyes +as she said, peering appealingly into his kind face—</p> + +<p>"May I whisper something?"<span class="pagenum">[164]</span></p> + +<p>He bent his head—and she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Bless my soul!" was all Father Christmas +replied, but he looked very pleased and jolly.</p> + +<p>"And I should like to pay for it," continued +Eva; "I've got five shillings all but three farthings."</p> + +<p>"Never mind about that, my dear."</p> + +<p>"But I'm sure I ought," she replied dubiously. +"Dear Father Christmas, you are always doing +kindnesses; could you tell me how to do something +like giving a cot to a hospital, or a free library, +or something? That's what I really came to ask +you about, only I forgot it until now. I'm so +often in trouble, and I've so often tried to do some +good, but it doesn't come off somehow," and she +sighed.</p> + +<p>"What you ask me is a secret," he answered. +"Some people are quick to find it out for themselves. +Some people never find it out. But I +will tell it to you, dear, because I know that by +to-morrow you will be on the high road to guessing +it. It is this: You need not give things. You +needn't try to be good. Try only not to be +troublesome. If you are sweet, and gentle, and +kind, you give happiness—not only do you give +it, but you can then only find happiness yourself." +Somehow, it didn't sound a bit like a sermon; +it was more like being told the delightfully easy +<span class="pagenum">[165]</span>answer to a difficult sum. Eva nestled closer to +her dear old friend as she listened—it was all so +peaceful, reassuring, and soothing.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 467px;"> +<a name="z212" id="z212"></a> +<img src="images/z212.jpg" width="467" height="600" alt="The two reindeer ... sped rapidly away" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">The two reindeer ... sped rapidly away</p> + +<p>The moon was shining down on the sledge and +its strange occupants, and Eva was just going to +ask if he could tell her who the other little girl +was, and all about her, when she felt her arms +were being disengaged from where they clung +about him, and she found herself gently deposited +on firm ground, and alone.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The Honourable Dot barked with delight because +it was Christmas Eve, and it was going with +its little mistress to dine downstairs; and very +joyful and succulent the event proved to be. Not +long after, when it was fast asleep in its basket, Eva +was sitting up in bed waiting anxiously to receive +the visit of her recent host. Father Christmas had +done her so much good, and she wanted to tell him +so, as she had had no opportunity of doing before.</p> + +<p>She was dropping asleep in that attitude, when +she heard a slight noise. Immediately she started +up, and clutching tightly at a rapidly retreating +figure, she laughed aloud to find she had succeeded +in catching Father Christmas, who, mildly yielding +to her entreaties, sat down by her side.</p> + +<p>"I have wakened you," he said regretfully.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, I was waiting for you." And she told<span class="pagenum">[166]</span> +him about the happy time she had spent with him, +and thanked him nicely. "What a dreadful little +girl that other Eva was!" she concluded. "Who +was she?"</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Father Christmas very quickly, "she +is what you might be were you to give way to bad +feelings. I wish you a Merry Christmas and a +Happy New Year, my dear!" and without explaining +further he kissed her and rapidly withdrew +on his business.</p> + +<p class="h3">DAYLIGHT</p> + +<p>Outside the uncurtained window the sun was +shining. Snow had been falling softly, and was +piled high on the sill. And over the hushed landscape +from the far distance the Christmas bells +were ringing. Eva joyfully hugged a large doll, +which she had found asleep on her pillow.</p> + +<p>It was only later, when she thought over past +events in detail, that it appeared to her, though +she had not paid attention to it at the time, that +Father Christmas seemed ill at ease when he was +<i>her</i> visitor—perhaps it was because he was in a +hurry. Somehow he was different from the stout, +merry-faced old gentleman she had been to see; +he had strangely shrunk to nearly as thin as her +own father, and as pale, comparatively, which she +thought very odd.<span class="pagenum">[167]</span></p> + +<p>And when she looked up into that wonderful +and mysterious old chimney again, she saw that it +was all dark and black, and as uninviting as any +ordinary dirty old chimney; so that it was quite +hopeless for her ever to venture up it again to +find old Father Christmas "At Home."</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[168]</span> + +<h2><a name="A_BIRTHDAY_STORY" id="A_BIRTHDAY_STORY"></a>A BIRTHDAY STORY</h2> + +<p>If it had not been Maisie's birthday this story +could never have been written. But the day had +come for her to be five years old, and, like every +child of that age, she could no more help having +a fifth birthday than she could imagine having it +without a party. At present she was unconscious +of all the delights in store, because it was only just +dawn, and her curls were still tumbled about her +flushed face on the pillow, and her eyes were still +fast closed in sleep.</p> + +<p>But in a small bed quite close to hers there was a +little girl, who was very wide awake indeed, as she +leant over with neck outstretched, gazing eagerly +at all the beautiful things so temptingly displayed +on a table at the foot of Maisie's cot—presents +from every one in the house: Hilda's box of beads +bought with her own money; a long-promised +story-book resplendent in bright blue and brilliant +in gold; some new furniture for the doll's house; +and a something that glittered strangely—Hilda +nearly toppled over in her curiosity to see it. +She found it to be a big red cracker with a funny<span class="pagenum">[169]</span> +coloured portrait of a smirking crocodile stuck on +the outside. "What lovely things!" she thought, +"and all for Maisie!"</p> + +<p>In two months' time Hilda was going to celebrate +<i>her</i> birthday and be eight years old, and have +a fuss made over <i>her</i>. But two whole months +seemed such a long way off—such a very long +time to wait! Into her dark eyes there came a +strange look of envy and longing, and her handsome +face with the resolute expression contrasted +strangely with her sister's as she turned anxiously +towards the fair little sleeper.</p> + +<p>Holding her breath, Hilda crept slowly down on +to the floor, stealthily approached the table, and +seized the beautiful cracker. "Surely that would +not be missed," she reflected. Just then Maisie +stirred uneasily, which brought a flush of shame to +the elder girl's cheeks; but hearing nothing further, +Hilda jumped into bed and pushed the cracker +under her own pillow. The crackling of the paper +woke Maisie, who sat up, and in the middle of +a big yawn espied the table, and remembered the +great event. "Oh, Hilda," she exclaimed, "just +look!" She was too excited as she handled her +treasures to notice that Hilda never stirred, that +she only answered shortly, "Yes, I know," and +didn't even volunteer to say whom the beads came +from.<span class="pagenum">[170]</span></p> + +<p>During the whole morning Maisie's excitement +continued; she hopped about everywhere, watching +the arrangements for the afternoon party, and +chattering about who were coming; so much so, +that do what she would, Hilda could obtain no +opportunity of being alone so that she might +satisfy her burning curiosity as to what was inside +the cracker. She had dropped it behind the toy-box +in the nursery, and there it lay, whilst all the +time Maisie could not understand what made her +sister so restless and impatient.</p> + +<p>Immediately after lunch, however, Hilda was +able to satisfy her longing at last. She picked up +the cracker and hurriedly opened it. What first +came to light was a big sweet wrapped in a printed +motto: "Always do what is right and you will be +happy." She read it with a pang of mental shame, +which was quickly followed by one of physical +discomfort, for she had popped the sweet into her +mouth and now would as quickly have popped +it out again, only it was too late, as she had already +swallowed the horrid thing, which was filled with a +liquid that tasted of bad scent. Making a wry +face, she rolled up the offending motto into a tiny +ball and threw it into the empty grate. Still, +it was soothing to find in the cracker a neatly +rolled up packet of pink and green paper, which +evidently formed something amusing—a bonnet, a<span class="pagenum">[171]</span> +cap, or perhaps an apron. At the same time she +drew forth the "cracking thing," which she loved +to pull and hear it go "crack." But she always did +so at arm's length with her head turned away, and +she was too frightened to pull it all by herself.</p> + +<p>Their nurse's voice was heard calling Maisie to +come up and be dressed. Hilda, with a guilty, conscience-stricken +look, had barely time to throw the +useless "cracking thing" out of the open window, +and to hide the rest of the cracker in the first thing +at hand (which happened to be the doll's house), +when they both entered laughing and carried her +off too, to be curled and be-ribboned for the party.</p> + +<p>"I've seen my birthday cake, Hilda," cried Maisie, +capering about. "It's booful!" But Hilda still +tasted that nauseous liqueur from the sweet, and +couldn't enter into any pleasing ideas of cake.</p> + +<p>Ready first, she ran into the nursery, curious as +ever as to the pink and green paper bundle, took it +out, unfolded it, and found that it would have formed +a crown—only it didn't join together; she had torn +it in her hurry. She stamped her foot with vexation, +and was wondering if she could stick the two ends +together when that tiresome Maisie came running +in from the next room with one of her new bronze +shoes on to show how beautiful it looked. Quick +as lightning Hilda had to hide her secret again.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing with the doll's house?<span class="pagenum">[172]</span> +Look at my new shoe!" exclaimed Maisie all in a +breath.</p> + +<p>And Hilda made a great fuss over the new shoe, +and felt horridly out of temper.</p> + +<p>Punctually on the stroke of three, the first of +the birthday party began to arrive—two little girl +cousins, who at once begged to be allowed to see if +there was anything new in the doll's house. Hilda's +heart sank at these words, and she tried to draw +their attention away, but to no avail, for Maisie, +moving towards it, said they must see the new +treasure there. With difficulty and something like +a scuffle Hilda, grown desperate, prevented her from +opening it, and managed to do so herself, quickly +stuffing the bunch of paper into her pocket without +being noticed. Much admiration was bestowed on +the new addition—a little motor car which had been +conveniently placed in the kitchen of the doll's house +ready to take out for an airing the little china lady +and gentleman who sat so rigidly and smiled so +vacantly in the storey above.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Hilda was inwardly owning to a feeling +akin to dislike for the very thought of that +cracker, for the paper was bulging out her pocket, +flatten it as she would. She was not happy, for +never before had she done anything underhand. In +fact she always tried to be an example for her young +sister, and she already regretted having given way to<span class="pagenum">[173]</span> +the momentary impulse of envy. However, there +was no time now for thoughts or remorse, and when +she reached the drawing-room she forgot all about +her trouble in helping to receive the guests.</p> + +<p>Eight little girls were grouped in one corner of +the room whispering, with eyes busily engaged staring +at one another's sashes; whilst eight little boys +had flocked together and were looking sheepishly +from out of an opposite corner. One boy, however—who +had been gazing long at Hilda—with heroic +resolution detached himself from his kind, and +entered the rival camp, where he was welcomed +with pleasure and interest. He was a young Highlander, +with sandy hair and many freckles, but his +attraction was great, for he wore his native costume. +The jewelled hilt of a dagger showed above one plaid +stocking, and on his shoulder he wore a fascinating +brooch with a large brown stone, which was the envy +and admiration of all the little ladies present.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the guests were all swooped upon by a +big lady, Maisie's mother, mixed up, and disentangled +into couples; a piano was set going, and +they danced, hopped, and twirled about, wondering +if they liked it; the girls thought they did, and the +boys were sure they didn't—all except the Scotch +boy, who had constituted himself Hilda's devoted +partner, and was enjoying it immensely. The polka +finished, these two sat chatting merrily at the<span class="pagenum">[174]</span> +window, when all at once Hilda became silent. She +happened to catch sight of something sticking out +of the ivy on the sill. It was the "cracking thing" +which she had thrown from the window above. Her +partner was surprised to see her look as though she +were going to cry. She didn't dare do that.</p> + +<p>Just then tea was announced. Weighty recollection +of warnings from home-counsellors came to the +minds of the children, which warnings, however, +conveniently faded away at sight of the good things +set forth so temptingly in the dining-room: custards, +jellies, and all those concoctions beloved of the +youthful interior. But the chief interest centred in +Maisie's gorgeous cake, which had her name and age +flowingly written in coloured sugar, surrounded by +the most realistic and sweetest of red roses imaginable, +nestling in the coolest-looking golden leaves.</p> + +<p>Hilda sat by the side of her Scotch cavalier, who +had taken her in, and who was much concerned +when he found that she had no appetite, but less distressed +when he found that that fact did not affect his.</p> + +<p>Once during the meal, Hilda heard their mother +ask Maisie, as she helped her cut the birthday cake, +what was in her cracker, and Maisie replied, as she +looked up from her struggles, "What cracker?" +but then, in her anxiety to know why Hilda refused +to taste any of her cake till the morrow, she did not +pursue the subject.<span class="pagenum">[175]</span></p> + +<p>After tea more excitement, for there was Mr. +Punch and his company, who were in excellent form.</p> + +<p>"Oi, Oi, Oi!" repeated that gentleman for the +dozenth time, as he bobbed about aimlessly, in his +anxiety to hit the clown and take the patient Toby +between his jointless arms.</p> + +<p>Later on, the eyelids of the party children began +to grow heavy, though the eyes remained unnaturally +bright; and tempers became less even and more +natural. And so, like everything else, the birthday +party came to an end, and "Good-byes" were said +with regret. That night cots and beds were not +despised, nor did they prove unwelcome for once, +for little tired heads were rested gratefully on +cool pillows. Maisie was an exception; she tossed +about on hers, too happy and excited to get to sleep, +whilst Hilda, worn out, lay on her back with her +mouth wide open, breathing heavily, and dreaming.</p> + +<p>Hilda dreamt that she was alone in a boat on a +ruffled lake. On a white flag in the prow was a +motto printed large, but upside down. She dreamt +that all around the frail craft, which rocked on the +stormy waters, were grinning crocodiles wearing +broken crowns made of pink coral and green fluttering +paper. She crouched low and tried to hide, for +she knew that if the horrid creatures found her out +she was lost for ever. Land was quite close, but she +didn't know how to get there, because her frock was<span class="pagenum">[176]</span> +made of red crackling stuff, which glistened and +made a noise whenever she moved.</p> + +<p>She felt sick with fright, and sobbed and moaned +at her terrible plight, and sobbing, she woke to find +that it was quite dark, that the moon was shining +on Maisie smiling in her sleep, and that she herself +had been dreaming.</p> + +<p>At breakfast next morning, Maisie and their +mother were already seated when Hilda silently +took her place next her chattering little sister; but +it seemed to her that their mother looked unusually +grave. When Hilda lifted the cover off her bread +and milk bowl, Maisie suddenly looked in it and +exclaimed: "Oh, how pretty." But Hilda turned very +red, and she hung her head ashamed. For in the +bowl there was no bread and milk—nothing but a +crumpled red glazed paper with a hateful picture of +a smiling crocodile, something pink and green, a tiny +paper ball of printed paper, and a stiff thing sticking +up—easily guessed at, but now blurred and indistinct +to Hilda's tearful view.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Maisie," she sobbed, "it was your crack—cracker. +I—I took it from your table. Do forgive +me—I've been so—so very miserable."</p> + +<p>And their mother, rising gently and saying +nothing, quickly took the proofs of wrong-doing +away, whilst Hilda felt Maisie's arm creep round her +neck and Maisie's kisses on her wet cheek....<span class="pagenum">[177]</span></p> + +<p>And in her repentance her fault was forgiven.</p> + +<p>Two months later, Hilda found amongst the presents +on her birthday table a lovely cracker made of +silver paper with a little heart of real gold attached +with a blue ribbon on the outside. And then Hilda +ran and whispered eagerly in her mother's ear, who +looked very pleased and kissed her. And Maisie +was surprised and happy too, for Hilda put in her +hand the lovely cracker with its little heart of gold +for her very own to keep.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[178]</span> + +<h2><a name="LITTLE_STARRY" id="LITTLE_STARRY"></a>LITTLE STARRY</h2> + +<p>"I should like to go shooting, and see what the +earth is like," sighed a young star. But the +Evening Star knew that meant many dangers, for +down there life was not so happy or serene as up +in their lofty sphere. And she knew, too, that he +would go his own way as youth always does; and +she felt sorry, for she did not like to part with this +bright little star. And so he went. That fine +crisp night the tiny star was seen to shoot right +down to earth—and the light of his presence was +no longer there.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>A hard frost was on the ground. The shops +were shut, for it was Boxing Day. Those who +were not on enjoyment bent were snugly quartered +by their own fireside, with the firm conviction that +nothing would tempt them away. Some, however, +had business to attend to in spite of its being +a holiday, and old Joshua was one of these. He +was known as "old" Joshua because his hair had +turned prematurely white—as white as the rime +which had gathered on his shabby hat as he hurried +along the murky, dimly lighted street which led to<span class="pagenum">[179]</span> +the great theatre. The wind that entered so unceremoniously +through his thin coat was biting +cold—the violin he carried was more carefully +muffled up than he.</p> + +<p>"One, two, three," he counted, as a neighbouring +clock began chiming; "four, five, six!"</p> + +<p>He quickened his pace. He had to be in his +place in the orchestra in extra good time, as it was +the first night of the new pantomime. And before +that, he had some one coming to meet him at the +back entrance.</p> + +<p>"I shall be there all in good time," he muttered. +"By Jupiter!" he exclaimed, as he tripped and +nearly fell over something that was lying straight +in his path. Only when he stooped down did +he discover that on the pavement lay a small +child, all cold to the touch, with fair curls dishevelled, +and eyes wide open that seemed to see +nothing.</p> + +<p>Old Joshua's heart filled with pity and indignation. +"What a shame," he muttered, "to abandon +such a treasure as this! And no one about who +can help me." He looked anxiously around—no +one was in sight; so he hurriedly went in search of +a policeman. When he had succeeded in finding +one, and the two reached the spot together, a +crowd had collected and was gazing wonderingly +at the tiny, prostrate form.<span class="pagenum">[180]</span></p> + +<p>"Stand back there!" commanded the man of +law.</p> + +<p>The clock chimed the quarter-hour. Old Joshua +felt the cold no more—he was in a nervous heat at +the delay; nevertheless, he waited till a cab was +hailed. Then the policeman tenderly lifted the +helpless little creature into it, and the driver +wrapped his rug around it. "To the 'orspital!" +directed the policeman, stepping inside, and the +vehicle was driven smartly away. The crowd dispersed, +and with it old Joshua, as quickly as he +could hurry through the throng.</p> + +<p>At the stage door he found his little Stella +awaiting him with sparkling eyes, in anticipation +of her annual treat.</p> + +<p>"Daddy, you're late," she said, holding up a +finger in mock gravity; then she clapped her hands +with delight at his arrival.</p> + +<p>Old Joshua would not distress her with the +cause of his delay, so he only stooped and kissed +her. "Give me your hand, old lady," he said, +"and come along quickly. Through this door—that's +right. Up you go. Don't step on my poor +toes or push against me when we turn the corner +more than you can help, or old Daddy Joshua and +his fiddle might be a little out of tune!" And, +laughing as they went, they climbed right up to +the top back row of the vast empty theatre. There<span class="pagenum">[181]</span> +a smiling attendant welcomed her as quite an old +little friend, and when he had seen his daughter +raised up on a seat by means of a big hassock, old +Joshua, with a nod of thanks, hastened below to +join his comrades of the orchestra, and help create +the squeaky din which they called "tuning up."</p> + +<p>At last the lights were turned up. An eager +troop of pleasure-seekers tumbled into the gallery +in a rush, and while Stella was looking around her +every available seat was quickly occupied. The +other parts of the house were filling rapidly in +more dignified style, and soon every place was +tenanted in honour of the great Christmas pantomime. +The large orchestra struck up, and +when the overture was over the gorgeously painted +curtain slowly rose.</p> + +<p>Stella, perched up aloft, forgot where she was, +and everything else in the world went straight out +of her head as she gazed with rapture at the lovely +scene that was peopled with fairies, and goblins, +and wonderful beings, disporting themselves in a +land that was all glitter and gold. And so the +hours flew by, in a wonder of loveliness, fairy +story, and fun.</p> + +<p>"'Ave a bit o' orange, dearie?" asked the stout +woman who was sitting next to her. But Stella +was too engrossed to think about oranges or neighbours, +nor even did she feel the light nudge that<span class="pagenum">[182]</span> +followed. The woman merely turned to her husband, +smiled, and held her peace; while Stella +threw back her head and shook with laughter, +as the Clown tickled Pantaloon with a poker +that looked extremely red hot. She wasn't a +bit tired, and was quite surprised to hear "God +Save the King," and to find the whole beautiful +show was already over, like a dream. It had +seemed to her as though it must go on for ever.</p> + +<p>Flushed and excited, and a good deal jostled by +the moving crowd, she made her way to the staircase +in order to meet the motherly attendant on +the next landing, who had promised to take her +to her father at the stage door. Stella was walking +down carefully step by step, when two young +men came roughly tearing past her. A sudden +push threw her off her balance. She knew she +screamed because she heard it. Then she knew +and heard nothing more.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Great fun was going forward in the biggest +ward in the Children's Hospital. Father Christmas +had suddenly appeared amidst much cheering and +clapping of hands. Not only were the little inmates, +the nurses, and young doctors beaming with +smiles, but Father Christmas himself felt the glow +of jollity as he busily handed the toys he carried +to his two attendant clowns. These nimble, funny<span class="pagenum">[183]</span> +fellows ran from him to the cots, backwards and +forwards, giving such beautiful toys, and saying +such funny things as they gave them, that every +child was soon laughing and happy, even those +with a bandaged head or limb, or a pain inside +or outside; and the unwonted excitement brought +a flush to their pale cheeks and brightness to +their eyes.</p> + +<p>But none of the jollification was seen by the +new little inmate of the cot that was in the far +corner. A tiny blind boy lay there, with pretty, fair +curls, and large dark eyes that he turned pathetically +around. He had not spoken at all. Earlier in the +evening he had shivered much, and groaned. Now +he lay peacefully smiling, for his small hands held +a musical-box that Father Christmas himself had +placed there, and set working, and the tinkle-tinkle +of a pretty tune seemed to please and soothe him.</p> + +<p>When the Christmas visitors had gone away, +and the dolls had been hushed to sleep by their +new mothers, and the woolly animals lay hugged +tightly in the arms of drowsy owners, a little +girl in a swoon from an accident was carried +into the ward. The sprained ankle had been +dressed; quietly and quickly she was put to bed, +and consciousness soon returned.</p> + +<p>"Where am I?" said Stella, staring about +her.<span class="pagenum">[184]</span></p> + +<p>"You fell down, dear," replied Nurse Evelyn, +"and we are taking care of you until you are +fetched home. You'll soon be all right again. +Does your ankle hurt much? Don't move it."</p> + +<p>"It feels funny," replied Stella, "but doesn't +hurt now it is still—thank you very much," she +added, staring about her in amazement at the +strange faces, the holly in the strange surroundings, +at the nurses in their pretty costumes with +their white caps and aprons, and at the sleeping +children clutching their toys. In the cot next +to hers, however, the little fair-haired boy looked +awake. His eyes in their aimless wandering were +now fixed on the high window through which the +stars were twinkling at him, and the Evening Star +looked fixedly down upon him. His hands lay +listlessly on the polished wooden box. The music +had changed, and in his ear it sang of "Angels +ever bright and fair."</p> + +<p>Stella, who was watching him with so much +interest, asked who he was.</p> + +<p>"He is a little foundling," said Nurse Evelyn. +"He was abandoned in the cold streets."</p> + +<p>Stella turned her head on the pillow towards +him again, and asked timidly—</p> + +<p>"Are you better?"</p> + +<p>"Talk to him to-morrow, dear," advised Nurse +Evelyn.<span class="pagenum">[185]</span></p> + +<p>As she gazed at him Stella thought she had +never seen so beautiful a child. She stretched +out her arm and took his tiny palm in hers; +then he turned his face towards her and smiled, +contentedly and trustingly leaving his hand in +hers. And thus with love and pity in her heart +she fell fast asleep.</p> + +<p>And in the night she saw a wonderful thing—a +moonbeam that seemed to come down into the +room—the small hand in hers unloosed itself, and +the boy arose looking gloriously beautiful; his eyes +were shining, and he could see the bright light, and +he began climbing up the beam, so easily that it +looked like gliding, so happily now that he could +see his way and whither it was leading him.</p> + +<p>The next morning Stella's first thought was of +the lovely vision, and of her little companion. +She turned over and looked with surprise. The +cot in the corner was empty—so very empty, and +tidy with its smoothed fresh sheets.</p> + +<p>"Oh, where's he gone?" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Nurse hurried to her side. "Who, dear?"</p> + +<p>"There—from the empty cot."</p> + +<p>The Nurse looked sweet and grave. "He has +gone where he came from, dear."</p> + +<p>"And where did he come from?" asked Stella, +with a curious sense of loneliness.</p> + +<p>"Where all children come from."<span class="pagenum">[186]</span></p> + +<p>Of course, Stella knew that all children are +Heaven-born, and come from the stars. Why, +her own name meant a star. And, of course, she +also knew that every one who was good some day +went back again to Heaven.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she cried, in a hushed voice, "has he +gone back there?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear," replied Nurse Evelyn gently. "Now, +don't think of him any more. Here's a pretty +book with pictures."</p> + +<p>But Stella did think of him, a great deal more. +The little golden-haired boy occupied her thoughts +more than any one ever knew. And that night, +and many other nights, when she looked upwards +at the vast sky, so mysterious and serene with its +millions of stars, she would wonder and ponder. +And there was always one particular little star that +she loved best, and when she looked upon it a +sweetness would steal into her heart, and she +would think of the gentle boy with the angel face, +who had gone back to Heaven—for she felt quite +sure that he was there amongst them, and that he +could see her, and that, perhaps, he loved her.</p> + +<p>And all to herself she called him Little Starry—and +she remembered him always.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[187]</span> + +<h2><a name="CEDRICS_UNACCOUNTABLE" id="CEDRICS_UNACCOUNTABLE"></a>CEDRIC'S UNACCOUNTABLE +ADVENTURE</h2> + +<p class="h3">PART I</p> + +<p>Cedric was flying his kite in a flowery meadow +close to his home in Cornwall. It was a favourite +spot of his, for he was a boy who loved beautiful +scenery, and from there he could get a glimpse of +Land's End, with its great rocks around which the +waves frothed and gambolled, broke, and gurgled +away.</p> + +<p>The day was grey and windy, just the sort of +day for flying a kite. This kite was of the old-fashioned +sort, with a tail of his own making, and +as it soared away higher and higher, with the tail +wriggling its great length like a happy eel on a +holiday, his heart was full of pride and content.</p> + +<p>He kept on unwinding and unwinding the large +ball of string until he began to wonder if his kite +would still be in view by the time he had unwound +it all. The wind was increasing in strength, when, +to his astonishment, and apparently for no reason +at all, the pull on his arm suddenly relaxed, and<span class="pagenum">[188]</span> +the kite all at once dropped quickly to earth, tail +first. Cedric darted forward to where it lay, some +distance ahead. When he reached it, he flung +himself alongside to examine it carefully. He +could find no rent, no damage; nothing was +wrong. There was nothing, apparently, to account +for such peculiar behaviour in his hitherto well-conducted +kite.</p> + +<p>As he passed his hand over it where it lay, +he felt underneath it, entangled in the tail, something +hard. He could see it glistening through. +He quickly drew it forth, and found in his hand—a +golden key.</p> + +<p>"Halloa! what's this?" exclaimed Cedric, as +he knelt down and turned his discovery over +and over. "A yellow key. However did it get +there?" was his next thought. He continued +to ask himself the riddle, but finding no answer +he gave it up, and carefully examined the key. +There was no mark on it—it wouldn't even +whistle when he tried it. "Some one must have +lost it, I suppose," he went on, and concluded: +"Well, it's no use to me!" and he threw it away. +Seating himself on the grass, he soon became +absorbed in getting his kite all trim again, and +had temporarily secured the string to a bush, when +his attention was attracted by the key, which +lay and glistened as if it knew it was glistening.<span class="pagenum">[189]</span></p> + +<p>Cedric didn't care to trouble with it, but instinctively +he picked it up, and said—</p> + +<p>"I wonder where this key belongs to?"</p> + +<p>At that moment his view of the Land's End +became slowly obscured by a huge iron door, the +lock of which was outlined with gold. He tried +the key he held. <i>It fitted!</i> A turn, the heavy +door was unlocked, and he put the key in his +pocket. He turned the handle, pushed the door +open just enough to squeeze through, and it +swung to behind him.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>There had been a great commotion in Fairyland. +The gnomes—who formed the Opposition +Party—had turned disloyal and wanted a republic; +whereupon the King, hurt in his dignity, +insisted upon abdicating. In fact, he was tired of +power, and glad of the excuse to resign. In spite +of the prayers and entreaties of those who desired +him to remain in office he returned to the Treasury +the Golden Key, together with the crown and other +royal jewels, and, to the concern of every one who +wasn't a gnome, went forth to play skittles—his +sole interest and only hobby.</p> + +<p>Of all the regalia, the most precious object was +the Golden Key, for whoever held it was made +King of Fairyland by virtue of its possession; and +it was ordained that it could only be parted with at<span class="pagenum">[190]</span> +the monarch's free will. It could be surrendered; +it could not be withdrawn.</p> + +<p>So the old King deposited it in the Treasury, +leaving his people—the faithful and unfaithful +alike—to fight out the matter as best they could. +In so doing they fought their very best. The +quarrel between the gnomes and the fairies waxed +furious in their patriotic eagerness to get their own +way. But while blows were exchanged and +relations were otherwise strained, and the Monarchists, +generally speaking, were highly annoyed, +and the Republicans were even more perturbed, +the latter suddenly lay low, and hatched an +audacious plot. So daring was it that it made +their grotesque and stunted little bodies tremble +as they thought of it, and their gnarled feet +shook in their shoes.</p> + +<p>This plot involved nothing less than the theft +of the Golden Key. The symbol of royalty was to +be taken to the mountain top and flung far away +outside the boundaries of Fairydom, and a republic +proclaimed and acclaimed. A monarchy could no +longer be possible.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the guileless fairies, recking nothing +of this, and rejoicing in what they thought to be +the discomfiture of their adversaries, chose the +popular Crown Princess for the succession, and +began with much pomp and circumstance the cere<span class="pagenum">[191]</span>mony +of investing her with the Golden Key. They +had proceeded up to a certain point when, to their +horror and amazement, on opening the treasure +chamber to bear the symbol in solemn procession +upon a velvet cushion, as the law demanded, they +discovered that <i>the Golden Key was gone</i>!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 455px;"> +<a name="z240" id="z240"></a> +<img src="images/z240.jpg" width="455" height="600" alt="Lay low, and hatched an audacious plot" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Lay low, and hatched an audacious plot</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Cedric suddenly guessed that he possessed the +key to Fairyland. For he found himself in a sun-bathed +valley with clouds of rainbow hues in the +azure sky above. In the distance he beheld a rippling +lake of golden water, on the borders of which +stood a palace made of gems gathered from the +circling mountains which stood as sentinels around +the valley. Down these mountains meandered little +golden rills that fed the lake. Nothing stirred but +gaily coloured birds, which fluttered amongst the +blossoming fruit trees and the rich and dainty +flowers.</p> + +<p>All around the lake, as though from nowhere, +sprang crowds of fairies, gnomes, pixies, and +sprites; they were landing from the tiny flower-decked +craft, forming processions, hurrying in and +out of the palace—presenting to Cedric's astonished +gaze a scene of wonderful animation and pretty +bustle. Great preparations were apparently proceeding.</p> + +<p>After a time they gathered together in waiting<span class="pagenum">[192]</span> +crowds, which stretched a long distance on either +side of the approach to the shimmering edifice, and +the words came to him with curious distinctness—</p> + +<p>"Hail! Cedric, King of Fairyland!"</p> + +<p>"K-K-King of Fairyland!" stammered the boy +in bewilderment. "Am I King of Fairyland? +You're only making fun—I've only been flying +my kite: I can't be a king."</p> + +<p>"Of course your young Majesty has got the +key?" remarked a funny little old man at his +elbow.</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Cedric, starting at the suddenness +of the answer to his question, but vastly surprised, +and amused too, at the quaint way in which he +was addressed.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then. Of course we all know you +must have found it, or you couldn't be here. I'd +far rather you had it than I; experience has taught +me that much. Good morning, young gentleman; +may it bring you more pleasure than it brought +me," and with a chuckle the little old man bowed +himself away.</p> + +<p>Cedric had no time to think, for a gorgeous +equipage stopped just in front of him. The door +flew open; the boy, guessing what was expected of +him, quickly stepped inside, and, wondering at this +grandeur, the new King of Fairyland was borne +swiftly through the serried ranks of his bowing +<span class="pagenum">[193]</span>subjects to the doors of his magnificent palace. +Soldiers presented arms, a national air was played +on lutes and harps, and Cedric passed through the +gates, followed by as many of the populace as +had tickets of admission to witness the most +wonderful coronation you never saw.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 445px;"> +<a name="z244" id="z244"></a> +<img src="images/z244.jpg" width="445" height="600" alt=""Of course your young Majesty has got the key?"" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">"Of course your young Majesty has got the key?"</p> + +<p class="h3">PART II</p> + +<p>In the throne-room, on a throne of diamonds, +Cedric sat in royal robes, and on his head was a +golden crown, which had been taken, as being +about his size, from the dome of the Crown Palace. +Grouped near him were the aristocracy of Fairyland—prominent +among them the Crown Princess, +and her great friend and neighbour, the Queen of +Gossamerland, both young, both beautiful, and +both unmarried.</p> + +<p>When the ceremony was over, and the shout, +"Hail! Cedric, King of Fairyland!" echoed once +more, the boy, prompted by the Lord High Chamberlain, +rose and bowed his delighted acknowledgments, +while the crowds outside cheered for all +they were worth. He kept standing, in order to +receive the general homage, with the quiet confidence +of one who had been used to that sort of +thing every day of his life.</p> + +<p>Little did he guess that the populace of Fairyland, +who were acclaiming him, down to the tiniest<span class="pagenum">[194]</span> +sprite, were far from pleased to have a mortal on +their throne—that the gnomes were plotting, <i>with</i> +the fairies this time, to depose him, for the key +had come back to their land, and was never likely +to be stolen again. They had all put their heads +together how to make Cedric part with it of his +own free will, according to law, and they knew +they had to accomplish their end by their wits, as +no other means held good. It was their desire now +to elect their ruler by putting the matter to the +country to vote, and thus please both parties. +The gnomes, who had had time to consider it, +were dumbfounded at their stupidity in having +thrown the key into Mortal-land, and they regretted +it when it was too late.</p> + +<p>A fair lady, wearing a tiny crown, stepped forward +and curtsied low before her monarch. It +was the Crown Princess. Cedric wanted to detain +her; but it wasn't etiquette, and she smiled to +herself as she swept past with her maids of honour. +She was followed by her dark friend, who kissed +Cedric's hand. Her face was more beautiful than +any he had ever beheld. In obedience to his wish +that she should speak to him, the little Queen of +Gossamerland smiled and said—</p> + +<p>"Sire, I have often heard of mortals, but never +saw one before. It is said that some of them never +dream of coming to our country, that others often<span class="pagenum">[195]</span> +do, but they never come really, you know. Your +Majesty is the very first. Will you graciously tell +me how it feels?"</p> + +<p>Cedric laughed, and coughed nervously, and +replied that "it felt very pleasant and comfor'ble."</p> + +<p>She turned her head as she withdrew, and +whispered anxiously—</p> + +<p>"<i>Do not part with the Golden Key</i>, as you value +your throne."</p> + +<p>The words, and still more the impressive and +forceful manner, of the dazzling little Queen +puzzled him. He determined, nevertheless, to +follow advice so fatefully given, but he couldn't +help pondering over it; and his face was graver +as he bowed to the lords and ladies and high-born +gnomes who had the honour of introduction.</p> + +<p>Escorted by the whole of the brilliant company, +King Cedric left his palace in order formally "to +do some good deed"—which was a part of the +ancient ceremonial. He was to open a new institution +for fairies who had lost their arts and +crafts and livelihoods too. When they arrived at +the building it was announced that the key which +was to have been presented to him was not forthcoming. +Consternation, real or assumed—(<i>Cedric</i> +didn't believe in it)—followed on the strange declaration +of those who were responsible for the +carelessness. Amid profuse apologies, the Lord<span class="pagenum">[196]</span> +High Chamberlain begged the King that he would +use the Golden Key—which, being a master key, +could of course take the place of any other.</p> + +<p>Acting on the advice given him, and alive to the +evident importance of retaining the key (which +was also the key to his position), Cedric politely +and graciously refused: at which there was considerable +sensation. Arguments and persuasion +were in vain, but at last he yielded to the entreaties +of those needy fairies who badly wanted +their institution. Himself he inserted the key, +which was found to fit, as was to be expected. +But when he wanted to withdraw it, it had stuck, +and was immovable—the lock had been carefully +arranged that it should be so. Triumph and +amusement were on every face except his.</p> + +<p>"I have been betrayed," muttered Cedric, and +he wondered what on Fairyland he should do next. +There was silence—a breathless interval—during +which the boy never relaxed hold on his treasured +possession.</p> + +<p>"Cut away the lock!" he commanded. At +this order the people murmured loudly, but soon +fell into silence; for they were bound by their +constitution to obey their monarch. In a few +moments the Golden Key was again safe in Cedric's +pocket, and mistrust was in his heart, as it has been +in that of nearly every king who ever reigned.<span class="pagenum">[197]</span></p> + +<p>The coronation ceremony was over, and the company +had dispersed, so Cedric found himself at +liberty to saunter forth. He hadn't proceeded +more than a few yards in the brilliant landscape +when a Rabbit—renowned for his white gloves—bounded +up to him and humbly begged it might +be his Majesty's pleasure to receive some famous +members of Animal Fairyland who were anxious +to render homage. Cedric replied royally with a +dignified nod, and followed the creature as it led +the way to a clearing in a forest close by. Here, +explained the Rabbit, the animals were allowed full +liberty to say what they pleased—but beyond the +boundaries they were only able to make strange +noises which their own families alone could understand: +it was thus that the secrets of Fairyland +were kept from the world outside.</p> + +<p>Upon a throne made from a cutting of the +famous beanstalk grown for the original Jack +King Cedric seated himself, and awaited events.</p> + +<p>He hadn't long to wait, for a Fox trotted up and +bade him welcome to Animal Fairyland. Wonderfully +tactful for his age, Cedric told the Fox +that he recognised him, having read about him in +Grimm's tales, and remarked—</p> + +<p>"You were so good, Mr. Fox, to the poor +horse!"</p> + +<p>At which the Fox sniggered shyly and withdrew.<span class="pagenum">[198]</span> +This pleasing reminiscence gave unbounded satisfaction +to the various animals that had quickly +gathered around.</p> + +<p>Cedric's inquiry of the Wolf as to his digestion +after that little flirtation with Red Riding Hood's +grandmother was also considered prodigiously appropriate, +and was greeted with cordial appreciation. +His quick recognition, too, of the Three Bears +added greatly to his popularity, but he wasn't so +happy in his remark to a stately Swan who came +up and bowed.</p> + +<p>"You're glad to have got rid of those ducks, I +s'pose?" he observed.</p> + +<p>"And pray, sire, where did you hear about that? +It's a chapter of my early history I hoped had +never got about!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I have read all about the Ugly Duckling!" +replied Cedric, persuaded that the information +would fill the Swan with pride.</p> + +<p>"Why, you don't mean to say—! Do you—do +you tell me that—" screamed the Swan furiously, +almost choked with indignation, and it could not +finish its sentences. Then in a quieter, but still +in an angry, voice, it continued: "To think of it! +Why, I plumed myself on its having been kept +out of print! So that family scandal has got +round after all!" And in defiance of all etiquette, +the swan turned tail and waddled off.<span class="pagenum">[199]</span></p> + +<p>"The audience is over!" cried Cedric indignantly.</p> + +<p>Whereupon the deputation hastily withdrew.</p> + +<p>"Guide, sire?" inquired a gnome, suddenly presenting +himself and going down on one knee. +"Guide to the fairy ring?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, please," and he followed him to where +a number of peacocks stood on guard with their +tails magnificently spread.</p> + +<p>"Have you twopence?" asked the guide +anxiously.</p> + +<p>"I'm not sure," answered Cedric, fumbling in +his pocket.</p> + +<p>"If not, I'm afraid you can't be let in, sire." +The gnome was looking afraid that the king might +not fall, after all, into the little trap he was preparing.</p> + +<p>"Not let me in? Can't I order myself through?"</p> + +<p>"No 'paper' allowed! You can only be let in +by paying the entrance fee."</p> + +<p>"I never heard of a king paying twopence to +go in anywhere," said Cedric, drawing himself up. +He was not unreasonable, he felt, but he was a +little hurt in his dignity as sovereign.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid your Majesty can't go against the +Office of Works."</p> + +<p>"S'pose I ordered the peacocks to be removed," +said Cedric, growing hot at the undignified position<span class="pagenum">[200]</span> +of a monarch unable to produce the price of +a Bath bun; "s'pose I ordered their necks to be +wrung, or something?"</p> + +<p>"It would be deplorably irregular and excessively +unconstitutional."</p> + +<p>Cedric was taken at a disadvantage by the length +of the words; but a lucky discovery relieved him.</p> + +<p>"Here, I've got four ha'pennies. But I call it +mean that I, of all people, shouldn't be allowed +in free."</p> + +<p>"It's simply to show the person is well off, and +to keep the place select—it's the same for all. In +the case of royalty the amount is returned in cash +at the end of the performance."</p> + +<p>Cedric entered alone, and found the fairy ring +far beyond anything he could have dreamed of. +Thousands of little fairies, wearing cunning arrangements +of petals from the fruit blossoms, had joined +hands and were dancing round joyously, raising +tiny clouds of yellow dust, which enveloped them as +with a golden mist. As he came in sight they burst +into song, and manœuvring cleverly until he was +in their midst, they showed what they could do in +grace of movement and harmony of sound, till, quite +enchanted, he felt he could remain there for ever.</p> + +<p>"Go on! go on!" he shouted, clapping his +hands with delight, for the little crew had come to +a standstill.<span class="pagenum">[201]</span></p> + +<p>A pixie detached himself, and kneeling, begged +his Majesty to give him the Golden Key.</p> + +<p>"What for?" asked Cedric, surprised.</p> + +<p>"To wind up the proceedings," came the reply +of the fairies, who had eagerly drawn near.</p> + +<p>"Can't," said Cedric.</p> + +<p>"<i>Do!</i>" said the prettiest of the fairies in chorus.</p> + +<p>Hardly knowing what he was about, so much +did he want to see the entrancing dance all over +again, he held out the key to the applicant; but, +noticing a peculiar gleam dart from the pixie's +eyes, he quickly snatched it back again and replaced +it in his pocket, and coming to himself +found that the peacocks were once more between +him and the fairy ring; that twopence was in his +hand, and there was no one at all about. Then he +realised how narrow his escape had been. "Uneasy +lies the head that wears a crown." Cedric knew +that Shakespeare had written that; but he had +never expected to learn the truth of it from experience.</p> + +<p>He lay on the grass, and pondered what he had +better do in the trying political situation. "What's +the use of being King of Fairyland if I have to be +plotted against every hour of the day?" muttered +Cedric disconsolately.</p> + +<p>"No use at all."</p> + +<p>They were the soft tones of the little Queen of<span class="pagenum">[202]</span> +Gossamerland. She sat down next to him and put +her tiny hand on his arm.</p> + +<p>"What's to be done, then?"</p> + +<p>"It's very simple," she rejoined. "Give me the +Golden Key. You'll be king no longer, but you'll +have no responsibilities or anxieties."</p> + +<p>"That won't be much fun for me," replied +Cedric. "Besides, what will you do with it?"</p> + +<p>"The right thing. I'll give it to the Crown +Princess, the rightful heir. That will save the +country a general election, and fairy tranquillity +will reign once more."</p> + +<p>"Why did you warn me not to part with it? +And now you ask me for it!"</p> + +<p>"I wanted to get it myself as soon as you would +give it up, so that I might deliver it to my dear +friend, who will become a queen like me. Then +she can choose her husband; and, after being her +bridesmaid, I suppose I shall be married too."</p> + +<p>"Will you marry me?" asked Cedric bluntly.</p> + +<p>"Why, you'd have to live on honey!" replied +the Gossamer Queen, with a smile, half sweet, +half malicious. Cedric turned it over in his mind, +but not for long.</p> + +<p>"Give me the key," she begged coaxingly.</p> + +<p>"Yes—but," argued the boy, "it's worth a lot, +you know: I wouldn't so much mind swopping +it; but——"<span class="pagenum">[203]</span></p> + +<p>The Queen of Gossamerland, tired of wasting +time, put out her hand so prettily, and pursed up +her lips so sweetly and daintily, that he <i>did</i> give +her the Golden Key, and she gave a kiss as a +receipt. Then she said that the Office of Works +would send for the crown, and flitted away.</p> + +<p>Cedric prepared to remove his crown, with +a sigh to think he had no longer any right to it, +but first he ran to the stream that slowly floated +by, and took a good look at himself. He smiled +with pride. "I must say," he remarked confidentially +to himself, "I really do look every inch +a king! But, after all, I couldn't go to school with +this on—the fellows would be sure to notice it." +He started at the bare idea, and laid down the +crown with a feeling of "good riddance" as profound +and grateful as ever King James II. could +have experienced. He felt no other pang than that +of dignity too quickly swept away.</p> + +<p>He placed it on the grass, confident that the +Gossamer Queen would send for it at once, and he +began to think of his own return. "Now to find +that door!" he exclaimed, and looked about him +to ask the way. The golden lake, the glittering +palace, the sentry of mountains—all were there; +but no living being was in sight.</p> + +<p>"Queer place, <i>I</i> call it," said Cedric to himself. +"No cake shops, only honey, and no policemen<span class="pagenum">[204]</span> +to tell the way." He wandered on in the hope of +coming sooner or later, somehow and somewhere, +to the door.</p> + +<p>After a time he met the funny little old man +who had accosted him on his arrival. He was +gazing hard at the boy, looking right through him +as though he were not there.</p> + +<p>"Will you kindly show me the door?" said +Cedric eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Turn you out, do you mean?" asked ex-King +the First.</p> + +<p>"I want to turn myself out, if I can," replied Cedric.</p> + +<p>"Already? Good morning, young gentleman, +ex-King the Second. There's a pair of us."</p> + +<p>"Please show me the door."</p> + +<p>"When is a door not a-jar?" asked the out-o'-work +sovereign.</p> + +<p>"Don't ask me riddles. Show me the door!" +ordered Cedric in his best royal-command manner, +and looked so threatening that the little old man +quickly pointed over his shoulder.</p> + +<p>Cedric walked off in that direction without +a word, and to his joy he discovered the door just +a little way in front of him.</p> + +<p>"Thank goodness!" he exclaimed, as he ran up +to it—and then he suddenly realised that he no +longer possessed the Golden Key with which to +open it. How was he to escape? He turned and +<span class="pagenum">[205]</span>looked back at what now was an immeasurable +distance—so very far away did it seem—and there +was once more bustling activity about the palace. +Another Coronation ceremony was beginning all +over again.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 548px;"> +<a name="z258" id="z258"></a> +<img src="images/z258.jpg" width="548" height="573" alt=""I really do look every inch a king!"" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">"I really do look every inch a king!"</p> + +<p>The boy flung himself against the door, and +banged and kicked at it with all his might. It was +of no use.</p> + +<p>"Oh, the key, the key!" he cried. "If they +would only spare it from their silly triumphing for +a moment, and let me out!"</p> + +<p>He put his eye to the keyhole, and with longing +gaze he saw his kite on the spot he had left it, +with its lazy tail gently stirred by the breeze.</p> + +<p>Once more he looked back, despairing of help; +the same animated fairy scene met his gaze—all so +indifferent to his helplessness. Grasping the handle +of the door in his hand he shook it in desperation.</p> + +<p>Then he remembered. He quietly turned the +handle, and walked out!</p> + +<p>The sea breeze blew freshly as Cedric freed his +kite from the bush, and when he looked back there +was Land's End just as he had seen it before. +"And Fairyland's end, too," he muttered; for +all trace of the iron door had disappeared after he +passed through. He stared in astonishment, and +couldn't make it out; and the adventure remained +a mystery all the days of his life.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[206]</span> + +<h2><a name="ROSELLA" id="ROSELLA"></a>ROSELLA</h2> + +<p>"Rosella!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mother?" And a dark-eyed little girl +looked down over the banisters into the hall.</p> + +<p>"I want you to get ready quickly and go to the +Moat House, and persuade Grandfather to come +back with you this afternoon instead of waiting +until the evening."</p> + +<p>"But if he invites me to tea with him?"</p> + +<p>"Don't stay, dearie. I want you back before +dusk, and it gets dark so soon now; and you must +help me to tie the crackers on the Christmas-tree. +It's still sunny, so make haste."</p> + +<p>In a few minutes the child was tripping downstairs, +smart and cosy in her red coat, hat, and +muff, with all the importance of her nine years.</p> + +<p>"Go the shortest way—you know; keep to +the path across the moor," continued her mother, +"or you might fall over bits of rock under the +snow."</p> + +<p>"Do you know, Mother, I always wonder, when +there's snow, where all the grass is and what's +underneath? All killed by the freeze?"<span class="pagenum">[207]</span></p> + +<p>"Oh no. The snow keeps everything nice and +warm," replied her mother with a kiss.</p> + +<p>Davis, the portly butler, advanced and opened +the front door.</p> + +<p>"Being <i>above</i> the snow doesn't keep <i>me</i> nice and +warm, Mother," called back Rosella as she ran laughing +down the steps into the icy north wind, which +blew her dark hair out to its full length and +heightened the warm colour in her cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Make haste, and you'll be there in half-an-hour." +Mrs. Silverton returned to her boudoir, and standing +at the bow-window followed with loving eyes the +graceful little red figure, until at a bend in the road it +turned, gaily waved a farewell, and was lost to sight.</p> + +<p>When Rosella reached the moor the high wind +was against her, blowing her frock between her +knees and making her eyes water. "This way will +be very difficult and unpleasant," she thought to +herself. "I'd far rather go round by the hill, and +then, too, I could see if Grandfather has got the +Snow Castle on the top finished and ready for to-morrow—I +forgot about that when Mother said +to go across the moor. I should so like to see it—I +wonder if I might!"</p> + +<p>She stood irresolute for a moment, then left the +straight path and started running, in order to save +time, in the other direction: thus making for the +hill which she intended to climb.<span class="pagenum">[208]</span></p> + +<p>The sun became obscured, and what was worse, +down from the leaden yellow sky tiny snowflakes +began to flutter as though in play, rapidly increasing +in size and volume until, as if by magic, Rosella +found herself enveloped in a blinding snowstorm +that obscured the landscape, and decided her to return +home. But returning home was not so easy as +turning herself round, and she soon had the growing +conviction that no matter which way she turned +she was lost, utterly lost: for all that she could see +was that she no longer seemed to be dressed in red, +but was thickly coated in white.</p> + +<p>Twice she tripped over the uneven ground, but +she stumbled along hopefully and bravely, and +even tried to sing, only the snowflakes got into +her mouth and made her shut it up tight.</p> + +<p>Rosella had no idea where she was, and she +felt very tired. How she wished now she had +gone straight forward! There would have been +no difficulty about that. By good luck she came +close up to a large piece of overhanging rock; she +did not remember ever seeing it before, so she was +more than ever confused as to the whereabouts of +the hill or of anything; but it was good for shelter. +She placed her muff in a niche above her head, and +sat down to rest awhile and consider what she had +best do.</p> + +<p>The wind howled around her only partially<span class="pagenum">[209]</span> +sheltered retreat, and myriads of snowflakes, drifting +in, fell softly about her, creeping closer and +closer, covering her boots, lying thickly on her +frock, on her shoulders, drifting, too, into her +eyes and making them blink, and powdering her +hair with white. And she felt too cold to think—too +cold to move.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>After a while Rosella exclaimed: "This won't +do. I must get up from here. It's such a dreadfully +cold place!" And she determined to try and +go on, if only to keep herself warm. So she shook +herself, took down her muff, and went forth.</p> + +<p>It was snowing as much as ever, but Rosella +found that the ground was no longer flat. She +was on the hillside, and as she climbed she +wondered anxiously how she should know which +side to come down, once she was on the top, in +order to find the Moat House. Then she smiled +as it occurred to her how much she must now look +like the tiny, red-hooded, toy figure in the glass +paper weight at home which showed itself enveloped +in a miniature snowstorm when it was +shaken. She plodded on higher and higher.</p> + +<p>The weather was clearing when Rosella stood +on the summit of the hill, and she was lost in +admiration as she gazed at the largest, grandest +Snow Castle she could never have imagined.<span class="pagenum">[210]</span> +Before it, too, stood a Snow Man splendidly +proportioned and set up. To her intense astonishment, +as she timidly approached he bowed +politely.</p> + +<p>Rosella curtsied instinctively, then laughed as +she went round to see where he had broken. +But he wasn't broken at all, for he turned too, +faced her, and said—</p> + +<p>"I need hardly introduce myself, Rosella. I +presume you recognise King Frost when you +meet him in any guise. You wished to see +my Castle—and gave yourself a polite invitation. +You are welcome!"</p> + +<p>She was so taken aback with the suddenness of +all this that she could find no words for reply. +So she made another, much lower, curtsey, which +she knew to be correct in the presence of Royalty, +then she took his proffered arm. And the tall +white figure and the little white figure mounted +the white steps, went through the massive gateway, +and proceeded down a long, narrow passage +lighted with a ruddy glow from the high windows, +which were glazed with something red, transparent, +and glistening. It was much warmer here, and +Rosella noticed that the snow had melted from +her clothes, and that her companion also appeared +to be dressed in red. His white face with its +white beard and white hair wore quite a jovial<span class="pagenum">[211]</span> +air, and on top of it was set a crown of carved +ice that reminded her of their chandelier in the +drawing-room.</p> + +<p>He did the honours by offering her some snow +broth, which she declined. Then she thought she +ought to say something, so she remarked, with a +touch of family pride—</p> + +<p>"I had no idea that Grandfather had built such +a fine place as this."</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> think the credit is entirely mine," protested +her companion with an amused chuckle. "<i>I</i> +provide the material, you see, or there would +have been no 'fine place' at all. See my +point?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, your Majesty," she assented, for she knew +it wasn't polite to argue—especially with a royal +personage.</p> + +<p>"This way!" he exclaimed, and led her down +another passage on the right, and halted to push +open a swing door of ice a little way, and genially +patted her on the cheek—which was kindly meant +no doubt, but his touch nipped her with cold so +that she shivered.</p> + +<p>"I shall be on guard outside. If you want me, +call me!" Almost as soon as she heard the words +the heavy door swung to behind her, and she found +herself alone in a great, white, glistening hall with +high arches open to the air. Evidently it was<span class="pagenum">[212]</span> +scarcely snowing now, for only little isolated +flakes came fluttering in. But in their falling +they changed into little shadowy girls and boys +in white, who danced playfully around her, and +their cold white draperies swept lightly about her +face, reminding her of the blinding snowstorm she +had passed through. But she only wanted to get +away to her grandfather now.</p> + +<p>Rosella sheltered her face with her muff and +ran the gauntlet of the persistent little snowflakes. +In a corner she espied a spiral staircase which +seemed to lead up into one of the battlemented +towers she had noticed outside, and she imagined +it a way of escape, so up she ran. The steps were +very slippery, but she got up to the top, where, +through a narrow loophole, she saw King Frost +down below, standing there just as she first saw +him when she thought him only a Snow Man. +More anxious than ever to know how to get to +her grandfather, she called out—</p> + +<p>"Your Majesty!" and repeated loudly the two +words over and over again, for he either would not +or could not hear her. And what was very curious, +there was an echo which called back "Rosella! +Rosella!" in the same anxious tone.</p> + +<p>Talking was clearly of no use; she must do something. +So she tried to squeeze her muff through +the aperture in order to drop it on his head and<span class="pagenum">[213]</span> +attract his attention—but it would not go through. +It stuck there and closed out her view. Try as +she would she could not release it; and with a gulp +in her throat she realised she would have to leave +it. Her hands grew terribly cold without it, and +it was too draughty to remain there.</p> + +<p>From the landing on which she stood steps led +up higher, so she proceeded to explore, and found +herself in an octagonal turret chamber. "I suppose +it serves me right, and I <i>am</i> lost, <i>and</i> there's +no one to help me!" sighed Rosella.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes there is!"</p> + +<p>"Whose voice is that?" she asked. She could +see no one—but at the same moment a sunbeam +pierced through an aperture, pointed straight at +what appeared to be a lift behind a slender +column, and then faded away. It <i>was</i> a lift, +made of ice and snow, as was everything else in +the Castle. Rosella entered it and took a seat. +The lift at once began gently and slowly to go +down, down, first into the foundations of the Castle, +and then into the interior of the hill right down +under the snow, till it stopped in a Grotto lined +with cobwebs and suffused with a mysterious green +light. There was a soft, singing sound, as though +made by the wind. In front was a frozen lake, and +the ice of it was green from the same strange light.</p> + +<p>"I must try and find my way to Grandfather,"<span class="pagenum">[214]</span> +said Rosella vaguely as she wandered about the +Grotto, looking about her for a way out.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Mrs. Silverton kept glancing anxiously at the +clock and at the snowstorm. Davis entered. +"Madam," said he, with an usually solemn face, +"Mr. Silverton has telephoned again from the +Moat House that Miss Rosella hasn't arrived."</p> + +<p>"Then she must have lost her way!" exclaimed +her mother, now thoroughly alarmed. "Though +I don't see how she could, keeping straight across +the moor to the Moat House gate at the end of the +path. We must set out, Davis, and find her."</p> + +<p>"Difficult this weather, Madam, if our young +lady is lost on the moor."</p> + +<p>"Is it still so bad?"</p> + +<p>"The storm's not so thick as it was. I'll go +immediately. There's no time to be lost, to my +thinking, Madam."</p> + +<p>"Yes, we'll go at once, Davis."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Silverton, pale with anxiety, sent other +messengers in various directions, and then started +off herself. On the moor she met another search +party headed by old Mr. Silverton and his faithful +collie dog. And the moor rang with anxious cries +of "Rosella! Rosella!" uttered by whitened shadowy +figures that looked like phantoms in the falling snow.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[215]</span></p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>"I <i>must</i> try and find my way to Grandfather," +repeated Rosella falteringly, realising that she didn't +know in the least how to proceed. She never had +a notion that a Snow Castle was so intricate inside, +with a hall, a lift, a grotto, and things; indeed, she +had always imagined for no particular reason that +it had no inside at all; "but of course," she now +argued, "if it has an outside it <i>must</i> have an inside, +or it wouldn't be an outside." But it was much +more startling when she looked up and found that +she was by no means alone: the cobwebs were all +inhabited. Inhabited—not by ugly spiders, but by +the wee-est little baby-fairies with the wee-est gossamer +wings, swaying in their cobweb hammocks +in all attitudes, fast asleep, soothed by the lullaby +hummed by the wind.</p> + +<p>"This must be where they are bred!" cried +Rosella, in an ecstasy of admiration and delight.</p> + +<p>"This is Fairy Spring's nursery," explained a +beautiful Sprite, appearing suddenly at her elbow +like a little bright sunbeam. "King Frost is the +ground landlord, you know, and allows all her +young things to sleep here and keep warm."</p> + +<p>"And who are you, please?" inquired the Sprite's +young visitor.</p> + +<p>"I am Love of Goodwill, and my father's name +is Christmas."</p> + +<p>"I know you by name quite well, and am so<span class="pagenum">[216]</span> +glad to see you. Perhaps you would kindly help +me to find my way?"</p> + +<p>"If you keep on going to the right, when you see +the snowdrops' mother, there you will find your +landmark."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do please tell me more clearly. What did +you say? Tell me where I"—but Rosella was +again alone in the green grotto with the sleeping +baby-fairies in their swaying hammocks, and the +soft music of the wind. "Surely there can't be any +grown-up snowdrops at Christmas—it's too early!—and +I shall be losing my way for weeks!" continued +Rosella. Nevertheless, she kept on turning +to the right through upward passages first of rock, +then of sand, in which were embedded deep growing +roots, then of soil with its minerals, broken up +leaves, and corpses of insects which she didn't like +at all; then through a passage lined with true red +soil, where little grubs were lying fast asleep in +their nests.</p> + +<p>"You ugly grubby little things!" remarked +Rosella as she passed them.</p> + +<p>"They are only lying low at present. They will +be lovely Painted Ladies and visit the court of Fairy +Spring," replied Love of Goodwill, hovering again at +her side. "And look! There are the baby snowdrops +asleep in their earthy cots. They, too, will +awake soon and get up. I helped their mother to<span class="pagenum">[217]</span> +get up as she was in such a hurry to see the world. +I'm afraid she will have got nipped by King Frost +for her impatience. Farewell—I must go and see +what is happening."</p> + +<p>Rosella followed the sunbeam—into which the +Sprite had vanished—and at once felt the keen air +blowing on her face, and knew she was above ground +once more. Everything was all white again. She +sat down upon a piece of rock to rest, and noticed +the sunbeam pointing straight at a little woe-begone +snowdrop sticking up out of the snow before her. +And to her joy the Snow Man was close by calling +"Rosella! Rosella!" in the echo's anxious tone she +had heard before—so he must have wanted her then, +badly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, your Majesty!" she murmured.</p> + +<p>He bent over her kindly. "There, little lady," +he continued, "drink some of this now!" and something +cold yet stinging was poured gently down her +throat.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, your Majesty. I did feel tired and +queer, but your snow broth has made me all right." +She said it quite gratefully. Then her eyes opened +wide and she cried in amazement—</p> + +<p>"Grandfather! Why it's <i>you</i>! You were the +Snow Man all the time! And look! there's my +muff up there that I left in the wall!"</p> + +<p>"But for that sticking up we might never have<span class="pagenum">[218]</span> +found our little treasure," replied old Mr. Silverton. +He picked her up and, holding her aloft, showed her +to her anxious mother, who came hurrying on the +scene.</p> + +<p>"Don't shiver so, dearie," exclaimed Mrs. Silverton, +passionately embracing the child, as hot tears +dropped on her daughter's face. "You must be +perished with cold, but this nice sunshine which has +come out now will do you good."</p> + +<p>"I didn't feel cold. It was quite nice and warm +under the snow as you said, Mother—and so +wonderful!"</p> + +<p>Davis carried her home in triumph at the head of +the procession; and after precautionary remedies +had been taken, Rosella sat cosily tucked up in the +big arm-chair in front of the huge log fire, thinking +over all she had seen. Of course she confessed to +her temptation to go astray, and was readily forgiven. +Then, as Mr. Silverton insisted he had never in his +life been any one else but himself, Rosella gaily recounted +her meeting with the Snow Man at his +Snow Castle. "And King Frost said, Grandfather," +concluded Rosella, "that the credit of the Castle +was his for providing the snow and not yours."</p> + +<p>"Bless my soul!" cried old Mr. Silverton. "And +he was right there, because I've had nothing to do +with any Snow Castle or any Snow Man—there was +some talk, but nothing came of it."<span class="pagenum">[219]</span></p> + +<p>"But I was King Frost's visitor there, don't you +see," insisted Rosella, smiling. "So I know that's +only one of your jokes, Grandfather."</p> + +<p>He smiled too and wiped his spectacles.</p> + +<p>The next morning Rosella volunteered to fetch +her grandfather and introduce him to King Frost. +So the two climbed the hill. But no vestige of +Snow Castle or Snow Man was there.</p> + +<p>"There, you see!" said her grandfather, laughing, +as he genially patted her on the cheek. How cold +his hand felt! It nipped her with cold, so that she +shivered. Yet the weather had changed, and it was +more like a sunny day in spring than in midwinter.</p> + +<p>She left old Mr. Silverton at his gate, and he +assured her with a kiss that he wasn't a bit disappointed +at the wonderful disappearance, but that it +was all certainly a very remarkable affair indeed.</p> + +<p>Rosella thought so too. Then she turned and +walked thoughtfully home.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[220]</span> + +<h2><a name="THE_CUCKOO_THAT_LIVED_IN_THE" id="THE_CUCKOO_THAT_LIVED_IN_THE"></a>THE CUCKOO THAT LIVED IN THE +CLOCK-HOUSE</h2> + +<p>It was rather a ramshackle, badly-built wooden +house, in which the Cuckoo lived. Outside it +looked smart enough, but inside, repairs were badly +needed. It had been handed down from father to +son, and over the front door, which was at the top +of the house, stood a beautifully carved statue of +their ancestor, Sir Cuckoo de Cuckoo.</p> + +<p>The Clock-House was situated not far from the +Dolls' House, backed by a flowery wall in a small +department of Nursery Land ruled over by Robert +and Lucy. Lucy was ground landlady of the +Clock-House, and it was her daily privilege to +wind up its affairs.</p> + +<p>No one ever knocked at the Cuckoo's front door, +because it had no number; there was a round +dozen of numbers in the immediate neighbourhood. +The pendulum, whose tongue never ceased to wag +once it was wound up, remarked, that two firm +hands were required to keep things in order. As +to the chains, they regularly got weighed down<span class="pagenum">[221]</span> +under the strain of responsibility, and a heavy +weight it was.</p> + +<p>So, as one could not summon the Cuckoo at +will, the only thing to do was to wait and see it +when it chose to appear, and then—as likely as +not, if nobody was about—Robert would seize +the opportunity to take pot-shots at it with his +pea-shooter. So far he had invariably missed. +Sometimes it kept an appointment with him +punctually at the hour, sometimes it didn't. +Occasionally, it came out at odd times, and then +remained indoors altogether. When that happened +for a more than usually long period, it was sure +to be because the poor Cuckoo felt indisposed in +its bellows; and when it became apparent that +something had gone wrong with the inmate of the +Clock-House, an entrance had to be effected by +the back door and a dose of oil administered. +Whereupon the front door would fly open and +the Cuckoo appear again on the threshold—it +never ventured further—bow to the multitude, or +to empty space, and pipe "Cuc—koo!" just as +many times as it felt inclined at the moment.</p> + +<p>One fine afternoon in spring, when the Cuckoo +came out punctually, and went through its performance +of three bows with a Cuckoo call after +each salutation, there happened to be a fresh +inmate all alone in the nursery. This was<span class="pagenum">[222]</span> +Tabiatha, the new kitten, cosily reposing in her +new basket under the table. "Aha! Poultry!" +mewed Tabiatha, lying low, opening a lazy but +watchful eye, and gazing upwards. "Bless my +tail! You're a tender morsel, I'll be bound—small, +but a tit-bit!" So thought the kitten, with an +increasing feeling of longing in the chest. It had +sounded to Tabiatha like an echo of the call she +had heard so recently in the lane near the old farm +at home.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to pop out any more!" said the +Cuckoo after re-entering the Clock-House. "I'm +bored to tears!" And it settled down in a corner +and looked very melancholy. "What with that +horrid boy, Robert, lurking about—and now a +kitten of all things! Why, life's not worth the +living! If ever I do pop out again, I should like +to pop out for good and all—stretch my wings and +fly away, right away, and see something of the +world!"</p> + +<p>"Work! That's the cure for all woes!" solemnly +ticked the pendulum. "Look at me, I'm always +at it, with a good swinging stride." The hands +didn't explain their views—they were keeping far +apart, and were not on speaking terms. "Every +one is expected to do his duty," urged the pendulum.</p> + +<p>"That was only meant for one day—not morning,<span class="pagenum">[223]</span> +noon, and night," argued the Cuckoo. "It's all +very well for a wagtail like you—but for a Cuckoo +with a soul above it—especially with a fine, well-trained +voice!"</p> + +<p>"Every one must do his duty at all times. Yes, +look at me—but I fear you can't see me. Do +you follow me?" asked the pendulum jokingly. +Getting no reply, it ticked-tacked on, until the +Cuckoo felt quite distracted.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>"Listen to me, children," said their mother, entering +the nursery, when playtime had begun; +"Nurse has gone to lie down. She isn't very well +this afternoon. So at four o'clock put everything +away neatly; then make yourselves tidy, and come +downstairs, where you may have tea with me."</p> + +<p>Robert and Lucy said they were sorry for Nurse, +but they smiled, and hopped about with delight +at the treat of tea downstairs. They promised to +do as they were told, and with muffled footsteps +hurried on the landing to open the gate and let their +mother out of their domain, and quietly closed it +to keep themselves in. Then they settled down in +the nursery to "Loto;" but as Lucy always won, +Robert tired of it. Card houses didn't answer +either, because it amused Robert not to build them, +but to shake the table when Lucy's structures were +in course of erection.<span class="pagenum">[224]</span></p> + +<p>Their mother, busily writing in the drawing-room, +began to wonder why the children didn't come +downstairs; and tea was just being brought in, when +suddenly screams and cries were heard issuing from +the nursery, and she rushed upstairs in alarm.</p> + +<p>There she found the nursery littered with things, +chairs in unusual places, some overturned, and Lucy +lying on the floor crying, with a cut on her lip, which +was bleeding. Robert had both stockings torn, and +was ruefully rubbing his knees. The little girl was +more frightened than hurt.</p> + +<p>"Whatever has happened, Robert?" exclaimed +their mother as she helped Lucy to her feet, and +comforted her.</p> + +<p>"I was hunting," he began to explain, "and she +was the gazelle, and I was chasing her from rock +to rock——"</p> + +<p>"Jumping from the table on to the chairs and +back again," added Lucy in further explanation, +"and we both tumbled down!"</p> + +<p>"Serve you both right for being so disobedient +as to jump on the furniture," replied their mother, +with placid satisfaction that matters were no worse. +"You ought to have been all tidied up, and downstairs +by now."</p> + +<p>"It isn't time yet, surely, Mother!" The three +turned instinctively towards the Cuckoo clock. It +had stopped at three minutes to four.<span class="pagenum">[225]</span></p> + +<p>"There now, Lucy, you silly!" cried her brother; +"if you hadn't forgotten to wind it up, we shouldn't +have had that beastly tumble, and shouldn't have +been late for tea."</p> + +<p>"Come, dears, quickly, and I'll help make you +ready," said their mother; and they left the nursery +together.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>During the excitement Tabiatha had remained +unnoticed in her basket under the table, glad in all +the turmoil to be peaceful and forgotten. She +came out, stretched herself lazily, and soon began +to gambol about the room. The clock chain, lying +loosely on the ground, attracted her attention. +She crouched, then leapt at one bound upon it, +backed a little, touched it with her paw, lay on +her side, and played with the bright links with all +four paws and much enjoyment. With a sudden +movement she righted herself—made a spring +upwards, missed the chain and fell without hurt. +Liking this novel game, she leapt higher next time, +and alighted on a cushioned chair, scratched her way +up, jumped on to a bookcase, and then on to an +empty shelf. There was the chain within easy +reach. Putting out her paw, it caught instead in +a ring she hadn't noticed. To disentangle it she +reached over, lost her foothold, and, still caught in +the ring, found that the rattling chain was moving<span class="pagenum">[226]</span> +downwards with her weight until it deposited her +gently on the ground, greatly to her surprise. +Again she scrambled up the furniture in the same +way. Her paw was now on both chains. Suddenly +something swung backwards and forwards—</p> + +<p>Tic—tac!</p> + +<p>Tabiatha was for the moment dismayed, and, +arching her back, she stood rooted to the spot.</p> + +<p>Tic—tac!</p> + +<p>It came unpleasantly close to her, nearly touching +her nose each time, but she never budged an inch. +Whr-r-r-r-r!</p> + +<p>Cuc—koo! Cuc—koo! Cuc—koo! Cuc——</p> + +<p>Tabiatha, rising to the occasion, and quick to seize +an opportunity or anything else, took her last and +only chance. She seized the poultry with both +paws—Crack! Snap! She lost her balance and fell +down, down, on to the cushioned chair. The +Cuckoo flew into the air, alighted on Tabiatha's +back, and bounded on to the ground. Tabiatha +forgot at once her escape from breaking her neck, +sprang after the Cuckoo lying there, turned it +over, paused, sniffed, found to her surprise that it +was not good to eat, that it hadn't even feathers, and +was only made of wood, turned it over again, and +began tapping it and pouncing on it until, suddenly +forgetting all about it, she cantered away sideways +with her tail curling in the air. She jumped into<span class="pagenum">[227]</span> +her basket, rolled herself up, soon purred herself +fast asleep, and looked the very picture of helpless +innocence.</p> + +<p>The Cuckoo, out in the world at last, having +recovered from its first alarm at the useless stiffness +of its wings, waited for something to happen. As +nothing did happen, it thought the world a very dull +and stupid place, and concluded that, after all, work +was better than lying there helpless, idle, motionless, +and ridiculous. What was the use of its trained +voice now? It couldn't articulate a sound even to +summon help. It had no idea of the time, but the +sun was shining brightly when at last it found itself +carefully lifted and placed on a higher level.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>When Lucy entered the nursery that morning, +soon after Robert, he exclaimed—</p> + +<p>"I say, Lucy! There's something fresh for +breakfast. Look on your plate!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my poor Cuckoo!" she cried in distress. +"You've shot it at last. You bad boy—I shan't +love you ever any more!"</p> + +<p>But she did love him at once again, for it was a +fact that no one knew how ever the Cuckoo came +to be lying on the floor in the remote corner where +Nurse had picked it up. The cushioned chair was +in its place again—a long way off the clock. Every +one was mystified, and could not imagine how it had<span class="pagenum">[228]</span> +happened. But Tabiatha knew all about it, though +you would never have guessed it from her round, +innocent eyes as she sat licking first one velvety paw, +and then the other velvety paw, as though she were +washing them of any share in the mischief.</p> + +<p>When the Clock-House was spring-cleaned, and +the Cuckoo duly set there on its legs again, it formed +the firm determination to remain at its post in the +future, and, with its Clock-House in order, it worked +ever after with regularity and good humour just +like one o'clock.</p> + +<p>"Cuc—koo!" Bow, click.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[229]</span> + +<h2><a name="CHRISTMAS_AT_THE_COURT_OF" id="CHRISTMAS_AT_THE_COURT_OF"></a>CHRISTMAS AT THE COURT OF +KING JORUM</h2> + +<p>The great evening had come, and every one in +Cosmopolis Castle was agog with excitement. +Eight months before, the Monarch had by Royal +Herald Extraordinary announced his intention of +making known his decision on Christmas Eve. +And Christmas Eve had come. No wonder every +one was agog with excitement, because King +Jorum was at last going to announce which of the +lovely ladies of the Court should be raised to the +position of the late Queen, his defunct consort. +She, poor soul, had possessed neither charm nor +beauty, and without her he had been quite happy +for the past two years, surrounded by smiling faces +and kept constantly amused by the ladies and +gentlemen of his Court.</p> + +<p>He had a jovial nature, and was an indulgent +father to his two young daughters, especially fond +of the younger, Princess Veronica, for more delightful +sweetness, prettiness, and lovableness it +would be difficult to find in any other young +damsel of sixteen years old. So believed that fine<span class="pagenum">[230]</span> +young soldier, Prince Olivin; and so believed +every one else in the whole kingdom. Every one +else, with one exception—Princess Christobel, her +sister, older by one year. She had her own ideas +on the subject evidently, for she kept a surly +silence when her sister's praises were sung. People +said it was her jealousy, because she was plain-looking, +and sulky in expression and character; +and some did say she was secretly in love with +Prince Olivin herself.</p> + +<p>Outside the castle this night the silent landscape +had been decorated, by order of King Frost, in +snow and crystal. Inside the castle the great halls +had been decorated, by order of King Jorum, in +holly and mistletoe. In the antechamber to the +ball-room stood the giant Christmas-tree, hung +with so many gifts of exquisite needlework from +the ladies of the Court for the King, and so many, +too, for Princess Veronica, that there was hardly +room for any other presents for any one else, so they +had to be stacked up in separate heaps on the floor.</p> + +<p>There was one present on the tree, which was +handsomer and costlier than all the rest—it was a +pair of woollen boots so cunningly and dexterously +wrought with precious jewels that they were the +most beautiful ever seen or heard of. They were +the handiwork of Countess Spinx, and of all the +handsome ladies who were assembled in the ball-room<span class="pagenum">[231]</span> +where the candles in the chandeliers cast a +softening light on their charms, she seemed this +Christmas Eve the most unnerved, the most excited. +Courtiers came strolling in by twos and +threes, and the scene became animated and gay.</p> + +<p>For as history shows, it was the custom at the +Court of King Jorum, by special decree of the +Monarch, that every man, woman, and child should +dress themselves in costumes of any distinctive +style they liked—whatever suited their fancy best. +(That was the origin, ages after, of the term—fancy-dress.) +There was thus no slavish following +of fashion, and consequently every one looked, or +fancied they looked, their very, very best, and were +thoroughly at ease in their quaint and, mostly, +fascinating attire.</p> + +<p>"Here's Little Love!" exclaimed a bevy of +fair dames, pressing forward as a handsome child +stepped into their midst, dressed as Cupid, and +looking the realest of little Loves from the tips of +his tiny bare toes to the tips of his tiny bare wings. +He was the King's godson and pet.</p> + +<p>"He's sure to know! Perhaps he can give us a +hint of the news!" exclaimed Countess Spinx with +eyes blazing eagerly as she placed herself in his +path, with her crook firmly planted on the ground: +she was dressed as a shepherdess, which showed to +advantage the curls on her fair neck, and her small<span class="pagenum">[232]</span> +feet in their high-heeled shoes. "Whisper to me!" +she coaxed; "or," with a pretty shake of the crook, +"I'll not let you pass!"</p> + +<p>Little Love might have been deaf, looking +neither to the right nor to the left, so unconcernedly +did he continue his way stolidly on to +meet the procession of the King.</p> + +<p>Countess Spinx bit her lip in vexation; the +other ladies merely shrugged their shoulders and +laughed; and the gentlemen stroked their mouths +to hide their smiles. Then all conversation was +smothered by the entry of the heralds with their +raised silver trumpets and their—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Par</i>—parraparpar—<i>pip</i>—ha!<br></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Par</i>—parraparpar—<i>paar</i>—<i>r</i>!<br></span> +</div></div> + +<p>This was immediately followed by the entry of +King Jorum holding Little Love by the hand. +The whole company bowed and curtsied very low—and +then stood at attention, breathless with expectation.</p> + +<p>King Jorum was a very big man, with a very +big smile, and very big woollen boots. He always +wore woollen boots because, being his own Commander-in-chief, +he liked to stand at ease. So he +said, naturally in a very big voice—</p> + +<p>"According to my promise it is now my pleasure +to announce to my Court here assembled my decision +with regard to your future Queen. After +<span class="pagenum">[233]</span>prolonged thought and study of face and character +I have come to the conclusion that there is not one +lady of my Court but who is quite lovely enough +and charming enough to become my royal consort. +Therefore to choose is difficult—so difficult that it is +impossible, and, being impossible, I shall never wed +again. I have spoken."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 464px;"> +<a name="z288" id="z288"></a> +<img src="images/z288.jpg" width="464" height="600" alt="Looking neither to the right nor to the left" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Looking neither to the right nor to the left</p> + +<p>For a moment there was intense silence. Then +deafening cheers arose, and all faces were radiant +with delight, especially the faces of the ladies, who +thus remained equals, no jealousy being possible. +"Such tact!" said one. "How true!" cried another. +But one lady had slipped away unobserved. It +was Countess Spinx.</p> + +<p>The gallant Monarch, unaccompanied, pleased at +the reception given to his declaration, smilingly +passed on to the antechamber, as was his wont, +for a private view of the Christmas-tree before the +revels commenced. King Jorum had detached +one of the woollen boots embroidered with pearls +and precious stones, anxiously tried it on, and was +admiring the effect, when Little Love appeared +and inquired if he would grant an interview to +Prince Olivin, who was waiting without.</p> + +<p>"I am engaged," was his Majesty's impatient +reply.</p> + +<p>"That, Sire, is what Prince Olivin wants to +be!"<span class="pagenum">[234]</span></p> + +<p>"Eh, what's that? Put on this other boot for +me"—he unfastened it from the tree. "Ha! that's +very smart. Very attentive of the dear Countess. +Now show him in!"</p> + +<p>The two young Princesses had not made their +appearance for the proclamation. They, as well as +Little Love, had been in the King's confidence, and +they did not intend to be present. However, as +the hour of the revels was fast approaching, +Veronica feared that her sister would be late as +usual, so she took her last glance at herself in the +mirror, tightened the blue ribbon that was threaded +through her fair hair, tucked a pale rose in the blue +sash of her high-waisted, white muslin frock, and +flitted off happily to Christobel's room.</p> + +<p>"Come in!" said a not very amiable voice +in response to the light tap. "Oh, it's you, is +it?"</p> + +<p>"Can I help you, as you have no maid?"</p> + +<p>Princess Christobel's room was by no means +tidy. "I don't want any help," she replied ungraciously, +moving some of the garments that +littered the bed, "but you can sit down there, if +you like, next to the 'Shah of Persia.'"</p> + +<p>Veronica took the place indicated next to the +sweetest little blue Persian kitten that was curled +up fast asleep on the coverlet.</p> + +<p>"I like your new frock, Veronica," continued<span class="pagenum">[235]</span> +Christobel, surveying her sister as she pinned up her +black hair without troubling even to do it before a +glass; "but you look pretty in anything. If you +didn't, no one would trouble to pet you. No one +ever fusses over me."</p> + +<p>"Papa does, for one."</p> + +<p>"Only because he thinks it's his duty."</p> + +<p>"I would if you'd let me."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes. You'd be very pleased if I'd let you +hang about me—an ugly girl can't show to much +advantage next to a pretty one. I know your +little game."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Christobel! How can you say such unkind, +unjust things?" protested poor Veronica +with a sob.</p> + +<p>"If you want to cry," said Christobel crossly, +"you shouldn't do so until you go to sleep. +You cry so easily; and then your bright eyes +look heavy, and your aquiline nose gets red, +and the whole Castle gets upset about them. +Who cares if <i>my</i> eyes are red?"</p> + +<p>"Every one, of course. Besides, one's looks +aren't everything."</p> + +<p>"I know differently. Looks <i>are</i> everything. +But I don't care if people trouble about me or +not, or anything they do, or think, or say!"</p> + +<p>"What <i>are</i> you putting on, Christobel? Not +<i>that</i>, surely!"<span class="pagenum">[236]</span></p> + +<p>"Yes. Same old Red Riding Hood cape and +green skirt—does for indoors or out. Same old +crew about, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so. But it's Christmas Eve. Those +loose things don't even suit you. Let me lend you +a new frock which I have, just the same as this; +we can arrange ribbons of your colour, red. We're +the same height, and it will suit you quite as well +as it suits me."</p> + +<p>"A nice comparison people would draw, eh?" +sneered Christobel; and being ready she took the +sleepy Shah in her arms and stalked downstairs +with him faintly mewing his protests, leaving her +sister to follow if she liked.</p> + +<p>In the ball-room Christobel superciliously took +no notice of the respectful greetings of the Court. +She was naturally shy, reserved too, and sensitive +as to her appearance and lack of charm. But +Veronica had a kind word for every one, stopping +to greet with a smile or a merry jest all present; +for they all adored her for her sweetness, graciousness, +and extraordinary beauty. There wasn't a +man but who would have died for her, nor a +woman but who felt better for her radiant presence. +Little Love suddenly appeared and whispered +something to Princess Veronica, who blushed, +was confused, and said in a low voice to her +sister<span class="pagenum">[237]</span>—</p> + +<p>"Prince Olivin is here! Papa has sent for me."</p> + +<p>"You might have told me he was coming," +replied Christobel, turning pale.</p> + +<p>"But I never knew, indeed." Her sister had +turned away, and Little Love was leading Veronica +towards the antechamber.</p> + +<p>It seemed to Princess Christobel as though +every face in the ball-room was a mask, and +behind that mask were eyes that gleamed with +mockery—that she had only to turn her back, +and fingers of scorn and derision would mark +her passage—and she turned and fled, never +pausing in her course through the long passages +and up the marble stairway until she was back +in her room, where she flung the poor Shah and +herself on the bed and burst into a torrent of +tears and lamentations in her loneliness, disappointment, +and jealousy. The kitten, too, looked +unusually blue, and mewed disconsolately—felt +bored, then purred, stretched its little self on the +coverlet, and fell asleep again. Before long the +sound of the heralds' silver trumpets pierced right +up into Christobel's ears—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Par</i>—parraparpar—<i>pip</i>—ha!<br></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Par</i>—parraparpar—<i>paar</i>—<i>r</i>!<br></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And she knew that the engagement was then +being announced of Princess Veronica to Prince<span class="pagenum">[238]</span> +Olivin; and the strains of the Waltz of the +Affianced which followed, played by the Court +musicians, confirmed the fact.</p> + +<p>How long she remained thus in the dark she +did not know. Sounds of an angry voice roused +her from her stupor, and she went out into the +brilliantly lighted corridor, shading her eyes from +the glare, the scent of flowers and the soft strains +of music becoming more noticeable as she approached +the stairway whence the voices proceeded—one +of which she could now distinguish +as being that of her sister. She peeped over the +banisters, and saw, standing close beside Veronica, +Countess Spinx, white with suppressed passion.</p> + +<p>"You knew," hissed the Countess, "that there +was to be no Queen."</p> + +<p>"I and my sister knew. Yes. Let me pass; +I don't know what's become of her. I want to +fetch her."</p> + +<p>"You might have told it to your old friend. +You are looking radiantly beautiful to-night."</p> + +<p>"I am very happy."</p> + +<p>"Happy with your betrothed?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Listen! Did you know that every one said <i>I</i> +had the best chance of being Queen?"</p> + +<p>"You!" exclaimed the young Princess in astonishment. +"Fancy young you my stepmother!"<span class="pagenum">[239]</span> +and she burst out into a merry laugh. The next +moment she was falling headlong down the marble +stairway, and then lay quite still, bruised and bleeding. +In the stillness that ensued—for the music +had stopped—Countess Spinx flew upstairs, where +she was confronted by Princess Christobel, who +pushed roughly past her and hurried down to her +sister's side. Her screams for help brought people +running from every side. The injured girl, still unconscious, +was quickly borne to her apartments, and +the Court physicians surrounded her.</p> + +<p>All sorts of rumours were set afloat in the +Castle, but all that was gathered for certain by +the company, as they dispersed, was that Princess +Veronica slipped on the marble stair owing to her +new high-heeled shoes—that the sweet face was +strapped and bandaged, for it was all cut and +bruised, that the nose was broken, and her beauty +spoilt for ever. Prince Olivin was half wild with +grief, and poor King Jorum was shedding tears all +alone in his study when Christobel sought admittance. +Her face was set and stern, and the sight +of his weakness didn't unnerve her as she said +bluntly—</p> + +<p>"Father, Veronica did not slip on the stair—she +was purposely and viciously thrown down."</p> + +<p>"Eh, <i>what</i>?" exclaimed the King, staring at her. +"Are you taking leave of your senses? There's<span class="pagenum">[240]</span> +not a soul who would hurt my pretty darling. +You have enemies. She has none."</p> + +<p>"<i>She</i> was happy. Others were not. Countess +Spinx was in a fury of disappointment at not being +chosen Queen. She flung poor Veronica down in +spite and malice. I saw her do it."</p> + +<p>The King bounded up. "Summon the Countess!" +he cried.</p> + +<p>Before her Christobel repeated her accusation, +and Countess Spinx tried to assert she only put +out her arms to save the unfortunate Princess from +slipping. Further questioned, she got confused, +contradicted herself, and finally sunk on her knees +and prayed for mercy.</p> + +<p>"To the cells!" shouted the King, and his eyes +falling on his jewelled boots, he hastily tore them +off and threw them after her as she was carried +away.</p> + +<p>When, next day, poor little Princess Veronica +recovered consciousness and was free from pain she +asked for her sister, who came quickly to her side.</p> + +<p>"Have you heard," asked Veronica faintly, +"that I—I—I am maimed for life? With a +broken nose and scarred face I shall not only be +ugly but repulsive."</p> + +<p>"Poor Veronica! You will then be on the +same level with me in the future. How you will +miss all the petting, all the love!"<span class="pagenum">[241]</span></p> + +<p>"I suppose my life is spoilt. And when I had +beauty, I thought of it and prized it so little. But +won't you love me, Christobel?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I will now."</p> + +<p>"Why only now?"</p> + +<p>"Because I shall always feel sorry for you—I +have never felt sorry for any one but myself before—and +I shall love you heaps and heaps."</p> + +<p>"Don't you think others may feel sorry for me, +too?—Poor Prince Olivin! Poor me!" she added +with a little moan.</p> + +<p>Christobel shook her head sadly. "Beauty is +everything! You will understand that now."</p> + +<p>No limbs were broken, and in a couple of days +Princess Veronica, with her head and face veiled +in white lace, was able to receive some visits of +sympathy in her misfortune.</p> + +<p>King Jorum was inconsolable, and whenever he +came out of the invalid's room he would vow +terrible threats of vengeance on Countess Spinx, +who was trembling for her spiteful life in the cells.</p> + +<p>On the third night after the Christmas festivities +had been brought to their sudden and tragic close, +Princess Christobel dreamed such a vivid dream +that it awakened her. She dreamed that Little +Love, who avoided her whenever he could, came +smilingly up to her, kissed her hand, and raising a +letter he held, showed, with a look of triumph which<span class="pagenum">[242]</span> +puzzled her, that it was addressed to her sister. She +awoke, and instantly remembered that Little Love +had really kissed her hand that evening, to her +great surprise. She sat up in bed listening, for +she fancied she heard her sister call. Becoming +anxious for her comfort, she rose, and went gently +in to her. It was quiet in the dimly lighted +chamber. The invalid lay softly sleeping, her face +all bandaged, and her glorious hair a mass of gold +about the pillow. Under her hand was an open +letter. Tempted by the influence of her dream, +Christobel drew nearer. It was Prince Olivin's +firm writing—there were only a few lines, and the +moonlight shone full upon them. She could not +help reading:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Beloved! Think not to release me. It is your sweet nature +I love. You. Your beautiful mind. Nothing could ever change +them!</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Olivin.</span>"</p></blockquote> + +<p>Was it joy for her sister? was it some gleam +of an unknown sense of peace, tenderness, and +hope in her soul, that brought scalding tears to +Christobel's eyes as, half blinded by them, she +groped her way back to her room, where she fell +on her knees and cried softly, and prayed that, now +through her tears her eyes had been opened, she +might learn to become different? "Beauty is <i>not</i> +everything, then!" she repeated wonderingly to<span class="pagenum">[243]</span> +herself over and over again, finding each time fresh +comfort in the thought. "How wrong I have +been! Out of her disfigurement Veronica says my +love for her has grown, and is worth much to her +in comfort. It has brought us close together, and +made us both happy. How grateful she is for +every one's attention! And now the Prince still +pleads for her! So! it was not her beauty that +attracted him—it was not her beauty—not her +beauty!" Thus she thought earnestly and long, +and it brought her a strange sense of faith in herself +and others. "I shall tell them all that I, too, +know how truly she deserves her happiness!"</p> + +<p>And tell them she did, and they opened their +eyes and bowed respectfully, and thought more of +Princess Christobel than they had ever thought +before.</p> + +<p>New Year's Eve came round with its accustomed +regularity, and the inmates of Cosmopolis +Castle were looking unusually grave for the occasion. +Princess Veronica was to appear once more +in their midst, and with the bandages removed +from her poor face. It was a silent, uneasy company +that had gathered together in the great ball-room, +and King Jorum, engaged in a game of +"Snap" with Little Love in a corner, looked ill +and worn from anxiety for his favourite child.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the card-players rose, and a thrill of<span class="pagenum">[244]</span> +excitement went through the assembly—Princess +Veronica stood on the threshold in white muslin +and blue. Her face showed no trace of scars; but +her nose! Her nose was unrecognisable. It was +no more aquiline, but tip-tilted—the sweetest little +turned-up feature imaginable, and her appearance +had actually <i>gained</i>: Princess Veronica had become +the loveliest lady in the land!</p> + +<p>After being locked in her father's arms Veronica +found herself suddenly in those of her lover. King +Jorum was frantic with delight. He called for +Doctor Quick and made him Lord High Druggist +of his Majesty's dominions, with all the appanages, +endowments, privileges, and perquisites appertaining +to the office. He showered honours on +every physician on or near the premises. He +talked of bonfires, and of honours, and tiaras all +round, until he was hoarse. Then Princess Christobel +appeared in white muslin and red ribbons, +and there were cheers for her animated appearance +and her kind expression as she gracefully returned +their greeting. "Father," she said, drawing him +on one side, "Veronica is asking for Countess +Spinx. May I—may I tell the prisoner that now +all is well she is forgiven?" King Jorum shook his +head vigorously, although he was too happy to do +anything but smile all the time. "She has been in +the cells for ever so long," pleaded Christobel, and<span class="pagenum">[245]</span> +her father was so taken aback at the revelation of +her fine eyes and sweet voice, which had never at +any time struck him before, that he nodded his head +violently.</p> + +<p>That evening a stranger was bidden to the +feast—no less a person than the great traveller, +brother to Prince Olivin, just returned from a +voyage of discovery—the bronzed and manly +young Duke of Rosenleaf. "Who is that charming +young girl?" he asked, as soon as he set eyes +on her.</p> + +<p>"Princess Christobel, your Highness," replied +Little Love with a sly smile.</p> + +<p>King Jorum couldn't get to sleep that night. +He usually slept too much, and was in the habit +of unscrewing the top of his foot-warmer and +pouring therefrom the hot coffee which he imbibed +at intervals in order not to oversleep himself in the +morning and thus set a bad example in the land. +But he had no need for it to-night. He could not +get to sleep at all.</p> + +<p>He thought, and thought, and thought what had +wrought such a marvellous and rapid change in +the character and appearance of his elder daughter. +He smiled over it, too, and smiled until his cheeks +ached with so much smiling, as much as his poor +head ached with so much thought. Still he went +on thinking right through the night, and just as he<span class="pagenum">[246]</span> +put up his arms above his head to break into a +mighty yawn, he suddenly cried—</p> + +<p>"I have it! That's it! She has realised the +old theme of Peace and Goodwill, as is proper at +this time of year, and has turned over a new leaf! +Bravo!" And he turned himself over, snored, and +overslept himself.</p> + +<p>So the first day of the New Year opened in +complete harmony at the Court of King Jorum. +And when the Duke of Rosenleaf asked Princess +Christobel if she would make the Happy New +Year a happy one for him, she smiled and blushingly +allowed him to place the prettiest of diamond +rings on her finger.</p> + +<p>And the New Year was still in its youth when +the two young Princesses were married. And by +the time that the Shah of Persia's great-great-grand-kittens +were gambolling about the palace, it +had become a frequent and pleasant subject for +argument and debate throughout the kingdom—"Who +is the most charming and lovable woman +in the land, Christobel or Veronica?"</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[247]</span> + +<h2><a name="ONE_APRIL_DAY" id="ONE_APRIL_DAY"></a>ONE APRIL DAY</h2> + +<p class="h3">PART I</p> + +<p class="h3">A QUEER GODMOTHER</p> + +<p>It was the First of April. The weather could not +make up its mind whether to be tearful or gay. +So, after changing three times, and deciding at last +that it was not grown-up to cry, the sun dried up +the tear-drops and beamed down on everything and +everybody.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it a shame, Wilfrid, to have to prepare +lessons when it's such a fine afternoon?" exclaimed +Norah. She rose from the study table and looked +longingly out of the French window to where the +crocuses on the lawn seemed to be having the best +of it.</p> + +<p>"Don't be lazy," replied her brother. "Just +come and help me with this sum when I tell you."</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to do as you tell me. If you +were grown up—say fifteen—it would be different; +but you're only a year older than me—not even nine +yet—and yet you——"</p> + +<p>"Halloa!" interrupted Wilfrid with a low whistle,<span class="pagenum">[248]</span> +as he strolled towards the window. "Look at +that's legs."</p> + +<p>"Which's?" inquired Norah, gazing in the direction +he pointed.</p> + +<p>"Them's."</p> + +<p>"What's?" she asked eagerly, looking around.</p> + +<p>"None! Well, you <i>are</i> an April fool!" exclaimed +Wilfrid with scornful glee as he resumed +his seat; "that's the second time to-day!"</p> + +<p>"And you're a very rude boy, and you're not +allowed to call me horrid names like that," said +Norah with dignity; "and I won't be teased always."</p> + +<p>With a very offended look, she set to work on +her copy-book.</p> + +<p>"Lend me your paint-box when we've finished +our lessons, will you, Norah dear?" said Wilfrid, +after a short pause.</p> + +<p>"I can't," she replied, without looking up.</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know why, but I can't."</p> + +<p>"Cat in the manger! You've got nothing you +want to paint, as I have."</p> + +<p>There was a longer pause, during which they +both scribbled away, and scratched, and spluttered, +whilst their tongues moved silently from side to +side outside their parted lips, left to right, following +the direction of each new line.</p> + +<p>Then Norah heaved a sigh and remarked<span class="pagenum">[249]</span>—</p> + +<p>"Wilfrid, isn't Cinderella lovely?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, as girls go."</p> + +<p>"Oh, how I wish we lived in those times, when +there were fairy godmothers and things!" exclaimed +Norah rapturously; then she added with a +sigh—</p> + +<p>"Aunt Leonora is my godmother, but she never +gives me anything, and the godmothers in the fairy +stories always give heaps of things."</p> + +<p>"You can't expect great fat podges like that to +be like fairy godmothers, you silly!"</p> + +<p>"But she ought to like giving things. How nice +it is to give presents and be thanked!"</p> + +<p>"Yes; it's nice to give presents—when they are +cheap. Perhaps," continued her brother in a wise +voice,—"perhaps Aunt Leonora can't afford it if +she isn't rich!"</p> + +<p>"Cinderella's godmother never seemed to consider +the price of anything. I wish—oh, how I +wish——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, how I wish you'd be quiet and help me +with this sum. You remember your tables better +than I do, but you needn't be jolly cocky about it +all the same."</p> + +<p>Norah wasn't listening to him. Her mind was +far away from lessons. She was thinking, if she +had her choice, what she would like to be, what she +would like to do, and eat, and, above all, what she<span class="pagenum">[250]</span> +would like to wear. "If only I had a fairy godmother, +I——"</p> + +<p>"Rubbish!" exclaimed Wilfrid, growing cross, +and frowning as he watched her moving restlessly +about the room.</p> + +<p>"I—of course, I wouldn't refuse her anything. +Fairy godmothers generally appear at first disguised +as old women, and ask for something, such +as a drink of water, or beg you to carry a load +of wood or whatever they happen to have in hand. +So I should be ready to do anything and give +anything, and earn my big reward."</p> + +<p>"Oh, shurrup!" growled her brother. "Much +better lend me your paint-box."</p> + +<p>But she didn't hear him; taken up with her +fancies she continued excitedly—</p> + +<p>"I know what I'll do. I'll try and tempt her +to come. Perhaps I may even have a fairy godmother +without knowing it!"</p> + +<p>And she began to dance about, singing—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Tra-la-la, fairy godmother,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Come to me now, I pray;<br></span> +<span class="i0">Visit a little girl who is longing for you<br></span> +<span class="i0">And will do anything you want.<br></span> +<span class="i0">Tra-la-la, fairy godmother, come."<br></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It wasn't very good poetry, but Norah hadn't +time to polish it up.<span class="pagenum">[251]</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I say! How can I do my lessons with all +this going on?" exclaimed Wilfrid. And flinging +his things together he bounced out of the room +and banged the door behind him.</p> + +<p>Norah wasn't sorry he was gone, and danced +once more all round the room singing; then knelt +down, and, stretching out her arms towards the +crocuses which were so stiff and upright in their +indifference, she said plaintively—</p> + +<p>"Come, dear fairy godmother, I want you!"</p> + +<p>And lo! between Norah and the window there +suddenly appeared a little old woman in a long +cloak, whose features were hidden by the large +hood she wore.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" exclaimed Norah, almost breathless in +her astonishment and delight.</p> + +<p>"I have come," said the stranger in cracked, +quavering tones.</p> + +<p>"I'm so glad to see you," replied Norah politely, +too excited to feel shy.</p> + +<p>"I—your fairy godmother—am here to test you +and see if you are really worthy. See this slate +which I have brought under my cloak. Every +little lady should be able to do arithmetic right. +Can you do this sum?"</p> + +<p>"How funny, godmother dear!" said Norah, +looking at it. "We are just learning these. It's +a difficult one, but I'll try."<span class="pagenum">[252]</span></p> + +<p>In a few moments she had done the sum and +proved it correct.</p> + +<p>"Very good," said the fairy, with a grunt of +satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"Will you take a drink of water?" now asked +the hospitable Norah eagerly. "Do."</p> + +<p>"No, thank you. But I may take something +else. Tell me, what of all your treasures do you +like most?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my paint-box!"</p> + +<p>"I knew it; I am glad you tell the truth."</p> + +<p>"How did you know it?" asked Norah in surprise.</p> + +<p>"I am your fairy godmother. I'll take that +paint-box, please."</p> + +<p>Norah brought it and gave it to her with the +greatest pleasure, and pressingly inquired if she +might carry anything anywhere. But that was +not required. Then she stood waiting expectantly. +And her heart seemed to turn a somersault of +delight when her fairy godmother spoke the +following words:—</p> + +<p>"I am satisfied. Now you may wish for whatever +you like. But you must make up your mind +before I count three."</p> + +<p>Norah's eyes had followed her glance at the +clock, which pointed to one minute to three; but +her mind, from the flutter of excitement she was +in, became a complete blank.<span class="pagenum">[253]</span></p> + +<p>"One!" said the fairy solemnly.</p> + +<p>This brought the little goddaughter to her senses, +and she began to mutter confusedly—</p> + +<p>"Shall I wish for a gold carriage, like Cinderella's, +or a pet lamb, with a blue ribbon and a bell round its +neck, or a frock embroidered in diamonds, or——"</p> + +<p>"Two!" said the fairy.</p> + +<p>"No," murmured Norah hurriedly. "If I were a +queen, I could order those things and everything else. +I wish"—the clock struck three—"I were a——"</p> + +<p>"Three!" called out the fairy.</p> + +<p>"——a Queen!" screamed Norah, just the +second after.</p> + +<p>"Too late!" said the fairy. "Farewell!" And +she moved towards the door.</p> + +<p>Norah's eyes filled with tears. "Please come +back!" she pleaded.</p> + +<p>"I can't."</p> + +<p>"Oh, why can't you?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know why, but I can't," replied the +little old woman.</p> + +<p>This sounded strangely in Norah's ears, and +what sounded stranger still were the next words +she heard uttered; these were simply—</p> + +<p>"Thanks, awfully!"</p> + +<p>Then Norah exclaimed at once, "That's Wilfrid's +voice!" She pushed aside the hood. "Why, +you're Wilfrid!" she cried, amazed.<span class="pagenum">[254]</span></p> + +<p>"And you're April Billy!" he shouted with glee, +throwing off the long cloak. "You said you'd do +anything and give anything for a reward, and now +you've had to do so without one!" And, bursting +out laughing, he ran off with the sum and the +paint-box.</p> + +<p>Norah sat down on a footstool and burst out +crying. She was angry and disappointed, and she +sobbed bitterly as she thought how she had been +tricked into doing Wilfrid's horrid sum, how she +had been made to give away her treasured paint-box +which he had envied for months, and, worst of all +a thousand times, how she had no fairy godmother +after all!</p> + +<p class="h3">PART II</p> + +<p class="h3">THE LITTLE FLOWER GIRL</p> + +<p>But Norah was a plucky little girl, and at times a +wise little girl. And, moreover, she had a sort of +feeling that it all served her right for being silly, and +dissatisfied, and too selfish to lend her paint-box. +Wilfrid certainly was a tease, but he was really a dear +good brother, and always lent her his things, and did +his best to champion her and get her out of a scrape.</p> + +<p>Still, she felt she would like to pay him out, all +the same—he'd had such a lovely time being fairy +godmother!<span class="pagenum">[255]</span></p> + +<p>So she decided, like the weather, that it was not +grown-up to cry, and she dried her eyes. Then +all at once she smiled and laughed outright. For +an idea had come to her, which she proceeded to +carry out. She certainly began to do some rather +queer things.</p> + +<p>First of all she took off her shoes and stockings. +Then she untied the pink ribbon which kept her +hair tidy, so that her curls fell in a towsled mass +about her flushed cheeks. Next she took off her +pink overall pinafore, which she hid away; and +gathering her white frock over her head, displayed +a short red-and-white striped petticoat.</p> + +<p>Running quickly about the room she took all +the violets from the vases, strewed some of them +in the fold of her frock, which she held together in +one hand, and put together a large bunch of the +flowers for her other hand.</p> + +<p>Then she stepped through the open window, +threw some sand upon her feet and ankles, and +thus prepared, stood on the path outside, looked in, +and waited.</p> + +<p>Very soon Wilfrid burst into the room, exclaiming—</p> + +<p>"Come and look at the healthy colour I've +painted on your big doll's pale cheeks. Oh, +Norah!" he added, looking round the empty room.</p> + +<p>And now he became conscious of a little flower-girl<span class="pagenum">[256]</span> +standing on the garden path, and piteously +offering him a bunch of violets.</p> + +<p>Norah had heard what he had said, and felt +vexed that he had dared to touch her big doll; +still, she had not the affection for that stately lady +that she had for the small invalid doll with the +broken leg, so she only said—</p> + +<p>"Buy a bunch of violets, sir?"</p> + +<p>He was a tender-hearted boy, and at once +fetched down his money-box from a shelf in the cupboard, +unlocked it, and took out twopence which +he gave her; but then he felt awkward and refused +the flowers.</p> + +<p>An organ in the street started playing.</p> + +<p>"I can dance to that if you can pay," said +the little girl thoughtfully, eyeing the money-box.</p> + +<p>"How much do you want?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Three shillings," she replied boldly.</p> + +<p>"That's all I've got."</p> + +<p>"That'll do, then," she said; "I want it so +badly."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but——"</p> + +<p>Not heeding his protests, she stole into the room +and began to dance to the organ, as she had seen +the poor children do in the streets, her little bare +feet twirling up slowly and descending with measured +steps on to the soft carpet.<span class="pagenum">[257]</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I say!" soon exclaimed Wilfrid with dissatisfaction; +"my sister Norah can dance better +than that, for nothing!"</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, he felt bound to empty his money-box +into the hand she now held out.</p> + +<p>Solemnly she made him a little bob of a curtsey. +Then she began to caper about the room in a very +different sort of spirit. And then, catching hold of +the astonished boy round the neck, she kissed him.</p> + +<p>"Hi! Shurrup!" cried Wilfrid, disengaging himself +and looking sheepish.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you April goose!" sang Norah; "April +goose—you're an April goose, Master Wilfrid!" +And she uncovered her head and shook back her +curls.</p> + +<p>"Halloa!" exclaimed Wilfrid, ruefully at first, +and then added more cheerily—</p> + +<p>"Ha! Do you think I didn't know you all the +time?"</p> + +<p>"Did you really?" inquired his sister, her eyes +wide open with surprise.</p> + +<p>"No, I didn't," he replied curtly.</p> + +<p>Then Norah's arm stole round her brother's neck, +and she put the money into his pocket, and told +him gently that she had only wanted to have a little +bit of fun, and he was welcome to use her paint-box—only +please not on her dolls.</p> + +<p>Then Wilfrid told her that she was a jolly good<span class="pagenum">[258]</span> +sort; and that after all it was a shame to tease +her, as she couldn't fight him for it. And Norah +hugged him, and they both laughed about how +well they had "pretended" to one another.</p> + +<p>The sun was shining still, and when the children +romped on the lawn the stuck-up crocuses didn't +have the best of it, after all.</p> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[259]</span> + +<h2><a name="THE_STORM_THE_TEAPOT_BREWED" id="THE_STORM_THE_TEAPOT_BREWED"></a>THE STORM THE TEAPOT BREWED</h2> + +<p>In a bright nursery, hung with pictures, the table +was laid for tea. Upon an iron tray, which had seen +much service—even military service, as a drum used +by the nursery band—stood the tea-set. This set +included a very large cup which belonged to Nurse, +bearing the funny inscription, "I am not greedy, +but I like a lot." The other cups were also lettered +in gold. One hailed, it declared, "From Margate," +and showed the pier as a proof. Another, a small +one made of porcelain, wished "Many Happy Returns +to Effie" every time she looked at it. A thick, +fat cup proclaimed itself "A Present to Daniel," and +a mug bore the perpetual reminder that it was "For +a Good Boy"—but it was cracked, so it didn't look +quite happy, perhaps because the reminder was not +always capable of keeping the boy good.</p> + +<p>The Kettle completed the party, but sat comfortably +on the warm hob next the fire, drowsily +singing snatches of song, in the knowledge of having +done his duty in giving the thirsty Teapot a +drink of water. So all was ready for tea except the +children. Nurse had gone to collect them, when<span class="pagenum">[260]</span> +the Chinese Teapot, who always liked to appear +important, suddenly exclaimed—</p> + +<p>"What a noise that Kettle is making, to be sure! +One could scarcely hear one's self rattle if one +wanted to."</p> + +<p>The Kettle, ignoring the protest, sang on—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Just now we were quiet,<br></span> +<span class="i0">No noise and no riot,<br></span> +<span class="i0">You could hear a bread-plate drop—Flop!"<br></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"We used to have a very nice English teapot +once," remarked the Porcelain Cup.</p> + +<p>"I remember," replied her neighbour from Margate. +"He came from Worcestershire. He was a +big pot, and thought himself no end of a swell."</p> + +<p>"What! Kettle-time already!" exclaimed the +Tongs, yawning and stretching his legs.</p> + +<p>"A nice sort of life it is for one of my grade and +standing," grumbled the Teapot, "to be surrounded +by such a set of ugly, foreign mugs and things as +you all are!"</p> + +<p>There was a general rattling of displeasure at the +insult, but it was drowned by the Kettle, who could +see a joke, singing up merrily—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If there's a fuss—if a Pot should allude<br></span> +<span class="i0">As a 'mug' to a China Cup,<br></span> +<span class="i0">There's always a clatter<br></span> +<span class="i0">Of jug, plate, and platter,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Till somebody washes them up."<br></span> +<span class="pagenum">[261]</span></div></div> + +<p>"It's disgraceful to go on like this!" complained +the Milk-jug, looking rather broken-down about +the handle.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said the Teapot with a sneer, "when one +only dates from 1887, and hasn't a handle to one's +back, one should retire to the seclusion of the cupboard, +and remain there as a curio."</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There was once a Jubilee Jug-gins,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Jug-jug-juggins,"<br></span> +</div></div> + +<p>hummed the Kettle.</p> + +<p>"Poor old crock!" said the Sugar-basin sweetly, +melting with pity through all her composition. For +she was his inseparable companion, and knew that +the Milk-jug was full of human kindness, and useful +still.</p> + +<p>"Never mind the quarrelling, darlings," whispered +the gentlemanly Spoons to their lady friends, whom +they had taken in to tea, "we will protect you."</p> + +<p>"Upon my word!" exclaimed she from Margate, +"I'm glad <i>I</i> was not born in China. Where I come +from rudeness is unknown."</p> + +<p>The Kettle took up the idea and sang gaily—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"They're pottery, porcelain, colour, and gold,<br></span> +<span class="i0">They come from the china shop,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Where crockery's bought, and the customer's sold,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And the Bull galloped in so angry and bold,<br></span> +<span class="i0">And when the poor, terrified shopkeeper told<br></span> +<span class="i0">Him to go, he did nothing but stop."<br></span> +<span class="pagenum">[262]</span></div></div> + +<p>"You ought to have a will of iron if you're made +of the right stuff," she continued, addressing the +Tray; "you ought to keep order, but you say +nothing and do less."</p> + +<p>"You see, he's only a waiter—slow and unpolished," +added the Teapot spitefully.</p> + +<p>"My view, if I may express it—" broke in the +Cup from Margate.</p> + +<p>"When I want your view, either of Margate or +of politeness," retorted the Tray, interrupting the +remark, "I'll ask for it. If I'd the chance I'd drop +the whole lot of you, and get friendly with a new +set, that I would!"</p> + +<p>Whereupon the irrepressible Kettle chirruped—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then he'd pay the expense of the mender's bill—<br></span> +<span class="i0">The mender is Doctor, you see—<br></span> +<span class="i0">Who makes out an order,<br></span> +<span class="i0">A matter of sawder<br></span> +<span class="i0">And rivets, cement, and a fee."<br></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"You're always brewing mischief!" said Nurse's +Cup angrily to the Teapot; "there'll be no peace +for any of us where you are."</p> + +<p>"That's true!" screamed out the little Tea-leaves +inside the pot; "he's always getting us into hot +water."</p> + +<p>"I'll draw the tannin out of the whole ounce of +you! You're about as sensible as mortals who +haven't the wit to understand us. But when we go<span class="pagenum">[263]</span> +cracked like Muggins over there, or stony broke like +the Juggins next to him, or get smashed up altogether +with age or lack of care, they take notice of +us at last, and then there is a mighty fine fuss."</p> + +<p>At this the Kettle, getting somewhat out of +breath from his exertions, bubbled out in a high +key—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"They're Wedgwood, Staffordshire, Japanese too,<br></span> +<span class="i0">They're a breakable lot, we know;<br></span> +<span class="i0">When any one cracks any,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Chelsea or Saxony,<br></span> +<span class="i0">Dresden, or Worcester, or Bow,<br></span> +<span class="i0">They make as much shindy<br></span> +<span class="i0">As if a big windy<br></span> +<span class="i0">Was shivered to bits by a blow."<br></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The Teapot went on: "Those people are amusing, +too; they think we ought to last for ever, when +they can't do it themselves."</p> + +<p>"A couple of chatterpots!" exclaimed the +Nurse's Cup. "Dear me! What with your +spouting, and his showing off once he begins to +sing, you're enough to wear one out!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Dear</i> you, indeed!" returned the Teapot; +"<i>cheap</i> you! Why, you were given away with a +pound of tea! Shouldn't be surprised at all!" he +continued, watching Nurse's Cup become speechless +with indignation. "But, spouting aside, I +could tell you a thing or two."<span class="pagenum">[264]</span></p> + +<p>"Or three—or four—or five—or—" The +Kettle might have sung on into billions had he +not begun to choke over it, and splutter, and gurgle. +Then he grew vexed, and snorted, and got angrier +and angrier, until finally, in order to breathe more +easily, he knocked his lid on one side, and began +to boil with rage.</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha!" laughed the Teapot mockingly. +"The old fellow's getting his steam up. Pray +don't de-range yourself, sir, on our account. He, +he! He's getting water on his nob!"</p> + +<p>This didn't seem to comfort the Kettle much.</p> + +<p>"What do you think about it, Spoonies?" added +the Teapot. But the Spoons heeded him not. +They were conversing quietly in couples, and +didn't care to be drawn into argument. So he +turned his attention elsewhere, bent on brewing +discord. "People are so thoughtless," he complained, +turning a cold shoulder to the others. +"Muggins, my boy, I'm beginning to get quite +chilly; just go and fetch my cosy coat." He knew +this was an impossibility, and he only said it in +order to pick a quarrel. But, noticing a distant +Plate who was openly laughing at him, he cuttingly +remarked: "Seen the plumber, lately?" Now, +the Plate happened to be suffering severely from +rivets, an infirmity which she vainly tried to hide, +and which she hated to be noticed. So, getting<span class="pagenum">[265]</span> +no reply, he added, "I presume that your plumbago +is better."</p> + +<p>The Kettle was now puffing and spitting to such +a degree that it was difficult to imagine he was the +same jolly fellow who had been singing so good-temperedly +all the time.</p> + +<p>And the Teapot was content. He had gained +his object, and the whole set felt as though they +had been wiped the wrong way, when suddenly +noisy voices were heard outside.</p> + +<p>The nursery door was opened, and in burst Fred, +home from Margate School, followed by gentle +little Effie; and Nurse, vigorously protesting at +being pushed forward in jerks by Bob. Poor, long-suffering +Nurse, as usual, was not having at all +a good time with the three troublesome boys. +Daniel had clambered on her back, and was trying +to pull off her cap. Bob—who was not nearly +such "A Good Boy" as his mug pretended—slily +untied her apron-strings. The apron dropped, and +Nurse tripped over it, jerking Daniel on to the +floor; and she would have fallen too had she not +just saved herself by clutching the table.</p> + +<p>"Cr-cr-crikey!" clattered the China on the tray +in alarm.</p> + +<p>"Bless those boys!" cried Nurse, as she replaced +her apron; but they only laughed. Effie +was helping to put her cap straight when the<span class="pagenum">[266]</span> +Kettle, unable to contain his feelings any longer, +marked his indignation by hissing disapproval and +then boiling over. Nurse rushed to his aid, and +altered his position so that he couldn't see all that +went on. He recovered himself at once.</p> + +<p>Bustling into their chairs, they all sat down to +tea, and at the sudden action the whole tea-set +rattled to arms, some standing at attention. The +Spoons, stirred by the children's hands, began +knocking the sides of the Cups, dealing them blows +right and left, and ringing out their resounding +protests.</p> + +<p>"Here's a 'stranger'!" exclaimed Effie, taking +a tea-leaf out of her cup. "Who will it be?"</p> + +<p>"A horrid foreigner, miss—a little black Indian," +replied the Teapot, turning up his spout with scorn, +and giving a vicious squeeze to the others he held +prisoners.</p> + +<p>"I know who it is!" said Bob, tilting back his +chair, then suddenly steadying himself by grasping +the table. This was a troublesome habit of his, +which drew Nurse's usual reminder.</p> + +<p>"What's his name?" asked the others eagerly.</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> know—it's a secret," replied Bob mysteriously.</p> + +<p>At this a loud argument began.</p> + +<p>"My lid! Who's making the noise now?" the +Teapot cried. "Pray don't upset your precious selves."</p> + +<p>"I think it must be Mr. Manners who is the<span class="pagenum">[267]</span> +stranger," exclaimed Nurse, putting her hands to +her ears to shut out the tumult.</p> + +<p>"No!" shouted Bob. "I'll tell you—his name's +Mr. Tea-leaf!" And he laughed triumphantly.</p> + +<p>As the other children raised their voices to +declare it was very unfair, Bob swung back on his +chair again.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" screamed Nurse in a fright, making a +grab at the table. But she was too late!</p> + +<p>Bob had already made a grab at it when, with a +<i>Swish! Bang!</i> he tumbled over backwards, dragging +the cloth with him, and everything upon it. And +the crockery lay around, all broken to atoms!</p> + +<p>In the moment of hushed alarm that followed, +the Tray rolled away, exclaiming in triumph: "I've +got rid of them at last! I said I would when I +got the chance!" And the Kettle, gazing at the +wreckage, sang on serenely and merrily—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There's been such a fuss, such a storm has been brewed,<br></span> +<span class="i0">There's no cups for the tea, and no plates for the food;<br></span> +<span class="i0">The cleverest doctor may puzzle his wits,<br></span> +<span class="i0">But he never can gather and rivet the bits!"<br></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum">[268]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a name="z325" id="z325"></a> +<img src="images/z325.jpg" width="500" height="364" alt="" title=""> +</div> + +<h2><a name="MONICA_THE_MOON_CHILD" id="MONICA_THE_MOON_CHILD"></a>MONICA THE MOON CHILD</h2> + +<p class="h3">I</p> + +<p class="h3">THIS SIDE OF THE MOON</p> + +<p>It was one of those late afternoons in winter when +the countryside looks very white, very still, and +hushed to sleep under its coverlet of snow—just the +time when the bright fire at home is thought of with +delightful longing. The gentleman who drove the +phaeton that was bowling along the frosty road +must have thought so too, for he cracked his whip +so smartly that it sounded loud in the silent landscape, +startling the cob to a more hurried remembrance +of his snug stable.<span class="pagenum">[269]</span></p> + +<p>"Not very far now, Doctor," he remarked to the +friend who sat next to him. "Home soon, Toodleums," +he added, turning towards a big bundle of +shawls at the back of the carriage.</p> + +<p>"I'm in no hurry, Papa," replied a childish voice; +"I call this lovely!"</p> + +<p>"Quite warm, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Quite, thank you, Papa."</p> + +<p>The bundle, answering to the name of Toodleums, +was Monica—her father's constant companion. She +was an only child. Her mother had always been +delicate, and Monica was not allowed to be much +with her. She even forgot that the invalid at home +was ailing rather more than usual to-day, and that +their long drive was to fetch her old friend the Doctor +for his opinion, for she was listening with so much interest +to an explanation which her father was giving +of the new airship he had invented. He was still +describing his successful trial trip, when Monica +noticed that the moon and stars seemed to have +assembled all at once to make a night of it. Never +before had she driven out after dark, and soon she +became all absorbed, in a state of muffled-up +rapture, at the unusual sights and aspect of mystery +about.</p> + +<p>"Hi! Toodleums, do you hear? What do you +say to going up with me in my airship next time +I go? Will you come?"<span class="pagenum">[270]</span></p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," she answered eagerly; "I'll come, +Papa."</p> + +<p>"You're not afraid of bumping up against the +moon?" asked the doctor playfully, leaning over to +pat her cheek. And both gentlemen laughed. +Monica didn't answer. She didn't know if she was +being made fun of or not.</p> + +<p>At last they were in the hall at home, amidst the +lights and bustling of the servants. As no one +seemed to notice her, Monica took herself up to +the nursery. She had dressed there near the fire, +and the boxes and things had not been tidied away. +Monica stared around, thinking this very unusual, +and was just beginning to feel uncomfortably lonely +when a little wrinkled old woman with very bright +eyes hurriedly trotted in.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Grandnurse," exclaimed Monica, "no one +is looking after me. How's Mamma?"</p> + +<p>"Much better, Dearie. But I'm wanted downstairs; +can you spare me, Poppets? Put yourself +to bed, and I'll be back directly with your hot milk." +Without waiting for an answer she bustled into the +adjoining night nursery, where Monica heard her +busily opening and shutting the great cupboards.</p> + +<p>The cheery old body was called Grandnurse because +she had been in the family for ever so long—so +long as to have become, as it were, a member of<span class="pagenum">[271]</span> +it. Passing through the nursery again she stopped +and said—</p> + +<p>"What would my Poppets say to a little sister, +I wonder! A tiny new baby!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Grandnurse!" And before the old woman +could hurry out of the door Monica sprang forward, +her face all aglow with excitement, and holding her +tight by the arm cried all in a breath—</p> + +<p>"Is it true? Where is it? When's it coming? +Who's going to bring it?"</p> + +<p>"Patience; I can't wait now. Let me go, +Dearie," said Grandnurse, disengaging herself from +the little girl.</p> + +<p>"But is it true?"</p> + +<p>"Quite true."</p> + +<p>"What will it come in?"</p> + +<p>"A bandbox, of course," answered Grandnurse, +laughing gaily as she went out of the room.</p> + +<p>"Can I fetch it? When can I fetch it?" persisted +Monica, following her downstairs.</p> + +<p>"When there's a blue moon. Now go back, +there's a dear."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but who's going to bring it?"</p> + +<p>"Don't ask me—ask the man in the moon," said +the little old woman over her shoulder in a hushed +voice as she disappeared down a dark passage of the +large house.</p> + +<p>Monica, standing there, laughed a little scornful<span class="pagenum">[272]</span> +laugh. "Ask the man in the moon, indeed!" she +muttered. "As though there were one! She often +says that, but I'm not so silly as to believe it." +And full of thought of the new little sister she re-entered +the nursery.</p> + +<p>The heavy curtains had not been drawn, and the +moon was looking at her just as it had done during +the drive. How lovely it was, that drive! She +went to the large window seat and curled herself +up in her favourite corner. Outside it looked so +cold and white that she drew the curtain close +around her with a little shiver.</p> + +<p>"Can Grandnurse really think there is a man in +the moon?" pondered Monica as she gazed up at +it; and confusedly she thought on: "I wonder if +there is, after all. Can he be going to bring the +baby? I should so like to know, and when, or who +is going to—I wish he'd tell me—perhaps if I were +to ask—who spoke about bumping up against the +moon? Ah!!"</p> + +<p>Monica had conceived a grand idea. Quietly she +stole to the table, snatched up the empty hatbox +which ought to have been tidied away, and then—and +then she crept stealthily downstairs—everything +was quiet—stealthily out into the night she +went. Now she was in the great shed, where the +airship was—quite an old friend. She had seen her +father start on his journey in it, and had heard it all<span class="pagenum">[273]</span> +explained. The precious bandbox was placed in +the car, and the next moment Monica was beside it. +She touched a button. The great structure moved. +She held her breath, and her heart thumped surprisingly. +Then she clapped her hands with delight—the +airship slowly moved forward out of the shed, +and when she pulled a lever thing, close at hand, +she was soaring like a bird right out into the night, +soaring right up towards the heavens. She was<span class="pagenum">[274]</span> +going to ask the Man in the Moon to be kind enough +to give her the new baby she had come to fetch.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 571px;"> +<a name="z330" id="z330"></a> +<img src="images/z330.jpg" width="571" height="488" alt="She was soaring like a bird right out into the night" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">She was soaring like a bird right out into the night</p> + +<p>How cold and crisp the air was! Monica was +glad to have on her coat and cap of fur. Higher, +higher she went until she lost consciousness of everything +except the cold and a sense of loneliness.</p> + +<p>And the airship rose upwards, upwards, carrying +its pretty burden with eyes fast closed, and the +curly brown head lay helplessly low, supported by +the staring white empty bandbox.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Bump! There was a crunching noise as of carriage +wheels on a gravel path. The airship was +aground on something, and Monica realised she +must get her wits about her. She quickly pushed +back the lever thing and the noise ceased, the movement +also.</p> + +<p>In the brilliant light, like sunlight, Monica saw +she had alighted on some rocks, whilst round about +was nothing but mountains, craters, caverns, and +awful stillness. There was not a creature about, +nor a sign of anything living. It was dreary to a +degree.</p> + +<p>"Wherever am I?" exclaimed little Monica. She +scrambled out of the car, and slung the bandbox +on her arm—somehow there was company in that. +Above her a moon was shining—not <i>the</i> moon she +was accustomed to see, but one about four times +<span class="pagenum">[275]</span>larger, as though suffering from a swollen face, with +a pattern on it like the map of Europe.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 308px;"> +<a name="z332" id="z332"></a> +<img src="images/z332.jpg" width="308" height="600" alt="Round about was nothing but mountains, craters, caverns" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Round about was nothing but mountains, craters, caverns</p> + +<p>"That does look queer," she muttered aloud. +"Bumped against the moon!" she thought to herself +unconsciously. For now she remembered her +father having told her what the earth must look +like from there; and she realised that she had +reached her destination, and was actually walking +about in the moon, and that the larger moon was +really the earth. This fact was so exciting that she +sat down to consider it, enjoy its importance, and +decide what to do.</p> + +<p>She determined to go on, and so she rose and went +gaily forward, the bandbox swinging from her arm. +But it was very difficult walking, steep and rocky.</p> + +<p>At last she found herself in a large plain of +broken stones—"much in want of a steam roller," +thought Monica as she bravely hobbled along—and +all around were caves.</p> + +<p>Out of the largest one of these there emerged a +tall and majestic figure, which, to her astonishment, +slowly glided sideways towards her, wrapped in a +cloudy drapery. Then Monica was convinced; and +she no longer had any doubt whatever but that +there was a Man in the Moon, and that this was he. +So very slowly did he advance that she had plenty +of time to recover from her surprise, and went forward +to meet him and introduce herself.<span class="pagenum">[276]</span></p> + +<p>His steely blue eye had a peculiar cold beam in +it as he said—</p> + +<p>"I bid you unwelcome! Are you not frightened?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied the child. "Why should I be? +I've done no harm."</p> + +<p>"Do you call coming here no harm?" All the +time he never stopped still a second, but kept +gloomily mooning about, his profile with its protruding +nose and chin in sharp outline always +turned towards her.</p> + +<p>"I've come to—to fetch—" stammered Monica, +chilled by her reception.</p> + +<p>"You're a trespasser! You're evidently a poacher, +too," he added, glancing angrily at the bandbox. +"Begone!"</p> + +<p>"But, please sir, do tell me——"</p> + +<p>With a warning gesture the Man slowly raised +his arm till its cloud-like drapery hid his face, and +he disappeared.</p> + +<p>"Dear me! I don't like him a little bit!" +murmured Monica, staring vacantly about, and +found that where he had stood there was a big +board on which in big letters was inscribed—</p> + +<div class="topbox"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Trespassers will be Moonstruck.</span></span> +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">By Order</span>.</p> +<span class="pagenum">[277]</span></div></div> +</div> + +<p>At the sight of it Monica quickly took refuge in +the smallest of the caves.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" said a voice; and as soon as +her eyes had become accustomed to the gloom she +saw a queer creature resembling a great toad +swathed in a long white beard.</p> + +<p>"Whoever you are," said the quaint inhabitant, +"I'm too blind to see you. Just lead +me to the further corner, there's a good trespasser."</p> + +<p>Monica did not quite like being talked to like +that, but she held out the bandbox and, supporting +himself by it, her new acquaintance limped to +where he was led and sat down.</p> + +<p>"Thanks, and many of them. It's not so +draughty here," he said.</p> + +<p>"Have you been long in this cave?" asked +Monica.</p> + +<p>"A few thousand years or so—I can't tell to a +minute," he mumbled. "But who are you, my +dear? By birth, of course, a Lunarian, but not by +accent."</p> + +<p>Monica mentioned who she was. Whereupon +he became quite talkative, and began telling her +about the moon, but only what she had read in +her lesson books.</p> + +<p>"Have you a House of Parliament?" she asked, +anxious to glean useful information. She had<span class="pagenum">[278]</span> +recently been to hear her father speak in theirs at +home, and was very proud of that.</p> + +<p>"We've only a moonicipality, you know," said +her strange companion, rambling on until he +became quite drowsy. Emboldened by his kind +manner, she told him why she had come, and +begged for his advice. To her dismay the only +reply she got was a series of the loudest snores she +had ever heard. He was sound asleep.</p> + +<p>"Do tell me what I had better do," she implored, +and she shook and pinched him till he awoke.</p> + +<p>"Get on the right side of him, and don't bother +me," croaked the old creature, and snored louder +than ever. Delighted at the hint, Monica came +out on to the plain, and saw the Man gliding +slowly on, sideways, as before. He frowned heavily +on seeing her there, and seemed speechless with indignation.</p> + +<p>"Get on the right side of him," repeated Monica +to herself as she made a dart forward to do so. +This proved unsuccessful, for just then he turned +so blue that she stopped, wondering if he was +getting a fit. Grandnurse's words, "When there's +a blue moon," suddenly occurred to her, and she +knew that now was her chance. She took courage +in his slowness, and without looking at him a +second time she rushed, stooping low, into a very +small cave on the other side of him.<span class="pagenum">[279]</span></p> + +<p class="h3">II</p> + +<p class="h3">THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOON</p> + +<p>It was not a cave at all. It was an arbour, the +beams of which were moonbeams, so that Monica +stepped straight through into it and sat down upon +a bench.</p> + +<p>"Evidently the moon is not made of green cheese, +as Grandnurse always thought," pondered Monica +with the pride of the discoverer. "I must remember +to tell her that." And she was just tying a knot in +her handkerchief to remind herself when she was +startled to hear a musical voice say—</p> + +<p>"Are you aware that you are on the wrong side +of the moon?" It belonged to a tiny figure no +bigger than Monica's doll, dressed like a lady +gardener, with apron, straw hat, and big gloves.</p> + +<p>"The little blind man in the cave told me it is +the right side for me," replied Monica politely.</p> + +<p>"Oh!! He's never done so before. But if +Toady told you that, then no one can blame the +Gardeness. Who are you?"</p> + +<p>"I am Monica."</p> + +<p>"It's a strange name. Some parents have queer +fancies. You are the first moon child who has ever +come back. How you have grown, to be sure; I +shouldn't have known you!" When she heard<span class="pagenum">[280]</span> +Monica's errand and had refreshed her memory as to +where she lived, she remarked with surprise, "We've<span class="pagenum">[281]</span> +had an order for one to be sent to your address +to-day. We always forward to customers' houses. +But people <i>never</i> come and fetch them. It's a most +unheard-of proceeding!" added the little lady with +a toss of her pretty head. "Where's your check?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 460px;"> +<a name="z339" id="z339"></a> +<img src="images/z339.jpg" width="460" height="687" alt="A tiny figure, no bigger than Monica's doll" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">A tiny figure, no bigger than Monica's doll</p> + +<p>"Cheque? Have I got to buy it? I've just +spent all my money on a new doll," said Monica, +her eyes filling with tears, "and now I might have +bought the new baby instead!"</p> + +<p>"We're on the check system here," said the +little lady, smiling. "Come with me and I'll +show you round, then you'll see what nonsense +you're talking."</p> + +<p>Monica brightened up, and they proceeded down +a trim gravel path that had a moonstone wall on +either side and a big door at the end.</p> + +<p>"Who are you, please?" asked Monica as they +went along.</p> + +<p>"Where you come from, clever people call me +Selene. Here, I am the Gardeness.—Your pass +check," she added in a business-like way. "To +Order or Bearer—which do you want?" The child +hesitated. "You want to order a baby, I suppose?" +The Gardeness was becoming rather impatient.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I've come to fetch it."</p> + +<p>"But you can't have a cheque to Order and +Bearer at the same time."<span class="pagenum">[282]</span></p> + +<p>"Can't I?" inquired Monica plaintively. "How +can I take it, then?"</p> + +<p>"That will be my business," whispered her +companion mysteriously; then added loudly: "The +little ones are being checked in the Counting +House now. Be quick, or the pick of the choice +will be gone."</p> + +<p>"To Order," faltered Monica.</p> + +<p>Whereupon her companion pushed the great +door, which swung open, and the quaint pair quickly +passed through. "They are always on order," +remarked the Gardeness as she led Monica up a +high flight of steps, "but we forward them in our +own way. Excuse my question; it was a matter +of form."</p> + +<p>Now they were in the loveliest garden ever seen, +and Monica gave a little sob of delight as she +noticed that all around about her in every flower +nestled the dearest, wee-est little baby imaginable, +whilst hundreds of tiny creatures were tending +them, drying the dew-drops from their big round +eyes, and turning their little bald heads for more +air, all the while humming a refrain which Monica +recognised as her Mother's favourite one, called the +"Bee's Wedding."</p> + +<p>At first she marvelled silently at the beauty of +the scene. Then, as she basked in the pervading +warmth, she remembered having been surprised at<span class="pagenum">[283]</span> +seeing the moon and sun out at the same time, and +now realised the moon was sunning its garden of +babies.</p> + +<p>"I've brought my bandbox," she remarked, +laughing gaily.</p> + +<p>"That's a good thing," replied her companion, +"as it has to be a private transaction. Stoop down," +and she drew Monica closer to the rows upon +rows of the beautifullest roses, gently moved the +petals of one of them, and revealed embedded in +the heart of the rose its own sweet little baby.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 497px;"> +<a name="z342" id="z342"></a> +<img src="images/z342.jpg" width="497" height="341" alt="Rows upon rows of the beautifullest roses" title=""> +</div> + +<p class="caption">Rows upon rows of the beautifullest roses</p> + +<p>Then the Gardeness told Monica with infinite +pride about the flower infants under her care. To<span class="pagenum">[284]</span> +her visitor's remark on their resemblance to each +other, she replied touchily, "I suppose you've seen +many girls called Rose, who were alike when born, +but they differ enough later! It's the same with +the rest."</p> + +<p>The Gardeness pointed out to her the children +with the names of Lily, Daisy, Sweet William, +and others, all borne up by their especial flower; +her own flower, the Gardenia; and the Marigold's +Mary; and told her how in some flowers the +children imbibe their tastes from their surroundings. +Thus, as they strolled around, Monica heard +that the Dandelion turns out too foppish a child: +that amongst the wild oats the harum-scarum +boys develop: that the Blue Cornflower babies +remain true to their liking for farinaceous food: +and in Love-lies-bleeding, little Cupids are born.</p> + +<p>Monica went through the vegetable garden and +saw the turnips, where the noses of the infants +looked so funny. "They generally take a dislike +to vegetables later on," explained the Gardeness; +"now those over there," pointing to a bed of 18-carrots, +"are as good as gold. But we must not +linger here. You shall have a peep at the orchard, +and visit the Counting House; then you must be +quick and make your choice."</p> + +<p>In the orchard were only boy babies, some sweet-tempered, +others sour. The Gardeness wouldn't<span class="pagenum">[285]</span> +recommend a gooseberry one, for it was apt to +grow up silly. There were some rosy, apple-cheeked +ones, but they looked <i>all</i> cheek. Little +gipsy-faced babies peeped with black eyes from +out of the blackberry bushes; whilst in the fruit +and nut trees close by were many pairs of hard-headed +little twins, all Philips and Philippines.</p> + +<p>"There's no time," observed the Gardeness, +"to visit the Indian garden, or the Chinese, or the +others; I should like to have shown you some +quaint little baby girls called Peach Blossom in +the Japanese garden. But after all, I suppose you +prefer an English one? They are generally chosen +according to climate." And seeing Monica smile and +nod, she hurried her off to the Counting House.</p> + +<p>Monica had not been considering at all what she +should choose, for she had lost her heart to that +first little Rose baby.</p> + +<p>Very soon they reached their destination—a long, +low building. "Listen!" said the Gardeness, drawing +her to an open window. "They are actually +quarrelling over it again!" There was a fearful +hubbub going on inside, above which could be +distinguished—</p> + +<p>"If one times six is six—six times one must be +one! So that fat infant weighs more than one +and six!"</p> + +<p>"Ah!" exclaimed her guide, "a stupid wrangle!<span class="pagenum">[286]</span> +No wonder that complaints arise, and that the children +don't always arrive at their destinations in time. +It causes no end of bother. Pass in!" The noise +ceased, and in the enormous room hundreds of +babies freshly gathered from the garden were being +numbered and ticketed by a regular little army of +miniature hospital nurses, who received instructions +from their superiors standing behind the +counter. As she entered, Monica heard that No. +47,859,056—a dear little Indian baby—was to be +forwarded to some strange-sounding address in +Calcutta, where it was expected in 27 days, 7 +hours, 48 minutes, and 11.5 seconds (very business-like, +but it would have been simpler to say that +day next month, for it was a lunar month).</p> + +<p>As it was carried away, Monica and her guide +followed and entered the Packing and Forwarding +Department, and saw it wrapped up in cabbage +leaves, packed in one of the numerous bandboxes +which lined the walls, and gently warned that if it +cried much it would crack its voice. Then the +box was labelled "<span class="smcap">FRAGILE! WITH CARE!</span>" and +put down a trap-door in the floor, where it disappeared +from view.</p> + +<p>The babies were being brought in rapidly, packed +with all despatch, and each received advice, such +as, to sleep as much as it could after the journey; +when bored, to suck its thumb; to try and get its<span class="pagenum">[287]</span> +own way whenever possible; and when it disapproved, +to express the same in the usual manner.</p> + +<p>Immediately they got outside the Gardeness +advised Monica, as her parents were well-to-do, to +choose a set of twins, which were not welcome +everywhere, and thus save them being planted on +a poor family, for they had to be got off somehow, +so were always sent (as if by mistake) where least +expected. But Monica mentioned her choice, and +begged very hard for it. So the Gardeness took +the bandbox from her, bade her wait behind a tree, +and with that little toss of the head went to gather +the Rose baby which had been sent for in so unheard-of +a way. Monica waited there so long that +she became very anxious.</p> + +<p>At last the Gardeness returned, pale and out of +breath, hurriedly warned her not to let in any cold +air on to the child, which was packed all snug and +comfortable in the bandbox, and, above all, to make +all speed or she would meet some one she wouldn't +like, showed her a short cut to the boundary, kissed +her hand, and was gone.</p> + +<p>Monica, trembling all over with excitement, +hastened away with her precious burden, the difference +in weight being scarcely perceptible. She +ran quickly towards the spot where she had left the +airship, quickly placed her treasure and herself +inside, and had just touched the "drop spring"<span class="pagenum">[288]</span> +when the Man in the Moon appeared, approaching +slowly. His face was turned fully towards her, and +looked quite different from what it had been before, +calm and expressionless. But she did not trust it, +and was thankful when she pushed off and felt the +airship was moving away. Feeling safe at last, +Monica smiled in triumph; with one hand she +raised her bandbox on high, with the other she +waved a farewell. Then the Man, as if in protest, +lifted his arm so that his face once more was hidden +in gloom.</p> + +<p>And Monica felt herself dropping, dropping +rapidly into the blackness of the icy cold night.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<a name="z348" id="z348"></a> +<img src="images/s_z348_00.jpg" width="264" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title=""> +<img src="images/s_z348_01.jpg" width="283" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title=""> +<img src="images/s_z348_02.jpg" width="300" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title=""> +<img src="images/s_z348_03.jpg" width="322" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title=""> +<img src="images/s_z348_04.jpg" width="345" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title=""> +<img src="images/s_z348_05.jpg" width="355" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title=""> +<img src="images/s_z348_06.jpg" width="379" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title=""> +<img src="images/s_z348_07.jpg" width="395" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title=""> +<img src="images/s_z348_08.jpg" width="411" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title=""> +<img src="images/s_z348_09.jpg" width="431" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title=""> +<img src="images/s_z348_10.jpg" width="447" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title=""> +<img src="images/s_z348_11.jpg" width="466" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title=""> +<img src="images/s_z348_12.jpg" width="490" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title=""> +<img src="images/s_z348_13.jpg" width="506" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title=""> +<img src="images/s_z348_14.jpg" width="524" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title=""> +<img src="images/s_z348_15.jpg" width="541" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title=""> +<img src="images/s_z348_16.jpg" width="408" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title="" style="margin-right:156px"> +<img src="images/s_z348_17.jpg" width="396" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title="" style="margin-right:168px"> +<img src="images/s_z348_18.jpg" width="376" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title="" style="margin-right:188px"> +<img src="images/s_z348_19.jpg" width="360" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title="" style="margin-right:204px"> +<img src="images/s_z348_20.jpg" width="337" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title="" style="margin-right:227px"> +<img src="images/s_z348_21.jpg" width="316" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title="" style="margin-right:248px"> +<img src="images/s_z348_22.jpg" width="308" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title="" style="margin-right:256px"> +<img src="images/s_z348_23.jpg" width="292" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title="" style="margin-right:272px"> +<img src="images/s_z348_24.jpg" width="270" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title="" style="margin-right:294px"> +<img src="images/s_z348_25.jpg" width="248" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title="" style="margin-right:316px"> +<img src="images/s_z348_26.jpg" width="228" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title="" style="margin-right:336px"> +<img src="images/s_z348_27.jpg" width="216" height="25" class="splitr" alt="" title="" style="margin-right:348px"> + +<p class="caption splitr" style="margin-top:-75px">The Man Lifted his Arm<br>So that his Face was once more<br>hidden in Gloom</p> + +<p>She was thinking: "My book says that no one +on earth has ever seen the other side of the moon, +so no one knows what on earth is on the other side +of it. That's why Grandnurse couldn't answer +my questions properly—and the Man wouldn't. +Perhaps even he has never seen the Garden of +Babies, as he was far too tall to enter that +small cave. How lucky I found it all out for +myself!"—when, with a great start she came +to earth and confusedly recognised the lighted +windows of her home. How she got the airship +back into its shed and how she entered the nursery +window she never quite remembered. Throwing +back the heavy curtain from the window seat,<span class="pagenum">[289]</span> +without noticing Grandnurse, +who was in the +room, Monica took off +her coat and cap, +hurriedly placed +them in the +night-nursery, +ran +back, and +peeped +eagerly +under +the lid +of the +bandbox on +the table. It +was empty!! +"Goodness gracious +me, Missie!" +cried Grandnurse. +"Not put yourself to +bed yet!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Grandnurse, +what <i>have</i> you done with +the new baby?" asked<span class="pagenum">[290]</span> +Monica piteously, great tears brimming over her +eyes.</p> + +<p>"They must always be unpacked at once, you +know, without a moment's delay. Come and see, +my Poppets, for I'm sure you won't rest without," +added the kind old woman, leading her away.</p> + +<p>And there, in a dressing-room, in a bassinette, +already cosily asleep but still sucking its thumb, +Monica beheld with rapture the tiny Rose baby +she had chosen in that lovely garden high up in +the moon—in Cloudland far away.</p> + +<p class="h3">THE END</p> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<p class="h5">Printed by <span class="smcap">Ballantyne, Hanson & Co.</span><br> +Edinburgh & London</p> + +</div> + +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rainbow Book Tales of Fun & Fancy, by +Mabel Henriette Spielmann + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RAINBOW BOOK TALES--FUN, FANCY *** + +***** This file should be named 37455-h.htm or 37455-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/4/5/37455/ + +Produced by David Edwards, Matthew Wheaton and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + +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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