generously made available by the internet archive/canadian libraries) transcriber's notes: italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and bold text by =equal signs=. small uppercase have been replaced with regular uppercase. blank pages have been eliminated. variations in spelling and hyphenation have been left as in the original. the _story_ of the siren by e. m. forster [illustration] _printed by leonard & virginia woolf at the hogarth press, paradise road, richmond_ 1920 the story of the siren few things have been more beautiful than my note book on the deist controversy as it fell downward through the waters of the mediterranean. it dived, like a piece of black slate, but opened soon, disclosing leaves of pale green, which quivered into blue. now it had vanished, now it was a piece of magical india rubber stretching out to infinity, now it was a book again, but bigger than the book of all knowledge. it grew more fantastic as it reached the bottom, where a puff of sand welcomed it and obscured it from view. but it reappeared, quite sane though a little tremulous, lying decently open on its back, while unseen fingers fidgeted among its leaves. "it is such a pity" said my aunt, "that you will not finish your work in the hotel. then you would be free to enjoy yourself and this would never have happened." "nothing of it but will change into something rich and strange," warbled the chaplain, while his sister said "why it's gone into the water." as for the boatmen, one of them laughed, while the other, without a word of warning, stood up and began to take his clothes off. "holy moses!" cried the colonel. "is the fellow mad?" "yes, thank him dear," said my aunt: "that is to say tell him he is very kind, but perhaps another time." "all the same i do want my book back," i complained. "it's for my fellowship dissertation. there won't be much left of it by another time." "i have an idea," said some woman or other through her parasol. "let us leave this child of nature to dive for the book while we go on to the other grotto. we can land him either on this rock or on the ledge inside, and he will be ready when we return." the idea seemed good; and i improved it by saying i would be left behind too, to lighten the boat. so the two of us were deposited outside the little grotto on a great sunlit rock that guarded the harmonies within. let us call them blue, though they suggest rather the spirit of what is clean, cleanliness passed from the domestic to the sublime, the cleanliness of all the sea gathered together and radiating light. the blue grotto at capri contains only more blue water, not bluer water. that colour and that spirit is the heritage of every cave in the mediterranean into which the sun can shine and the sea flow. as soon as the boat left i realised how imprudent i had been to trust myself on a sloping rock with an unknown sicilian. with a jerk he became alive, seizing my arm and saying "go to the end of the grotto and i will show you something beautiful." he made me jump off the rock on to the ledge over a dazzling crack of sea, he drew me away from the light till i was standing on the tiny beach of sand which emerged like powdered turquoise at the further end. there he left me with his clothes, and returned swiftly to the summit of the entrance-rock. for a moment he stood naked in the brilliant sun, looking down at the spot where the book lay. then he crossed himself, raised his hands above his head, and dived. if the book was wonderful, the man is past all description. his effect was that of a silver statue, alive beneath the sea, through whom life throbbed in blue and green. something infinitely happy, infinitely wise--but it was impossible that it should emerge from the depths sunburnt and dripping, holding the note book on the deist controversy between its teeth. a gratuity is generally expected by those who bathe. whatever i offered, he was sure to want more, and i was disinclined for an argument in a place so beautiful and also so solitary. it was a relief that he should say in conversational tones "in a place like this one might see the siren." i was delighted with him for thus falling into the key of his surroundings. we had been left together in a magic world, apart from all the commonplaces that are called reality, a world of blue whose floor was the sea and whose walls and roof of rock trembled with the sea's reflections. here, only the fantastic would be tolerable, and it was in that spirit that i echoed his words. "one might easily see the siren." he watched me curiously while he dressed. i was parting the sticky leaves of the note book as i sat on the strip of sand. "ah!" he said at last. "you may have read the little book that was printed last year. who would have thought that our siren would have given the foreigners pleasure!" (i read it afterwards. its account is, not unnaturally, incomplete, in spite of there being a woodcut of the young person, and the words of her song.) "she comes out of this blue water, doesn't she," i suggested "and sits on the rock at the entrance, combing her hair." i wanted to draw him out, for i was interested in his sudden gravity, and there was a suggestion of irony in his last remark that puzzled me. "have you ever seen her?" "often and often." "i never." "but you have heard her sing!" he put on his coat and said impatiently, "how can she sing under the water? who could? she sometimes tries, but nothing comes from her but great bubbles." "she should climb on to the rock then." "how can she?" he cried again, quite angry. "the priests have blessed the air, so she cannot breathe it, and blessed the rocks, so that she cannot sit on them. but the sea no man can bless, because it is too big, and always changing. therefore she lives in the sea." i was silent. at this his face took a gentler expression. he looked at me as though something was on his mind, and going out to the entrance rock, gazed at the external blue. then returning into our twilight he said "as a rule only good people see the siren." i made no comment. there was a pause, and he continued. "that is a very strange thing, and the priests do not know how to account for it; for she of course is wicked. not only those who fast and go to mass are in danger, but even those who are merely good in daily life. no one in the village had seen her for two generations. i am not surprised. we all cross ourselves before we enter the water, but it is unnecessary. giuseppe, we thought, was safer than most. we loved him, and many of us he loved: but that is a different thing to being good." i asked who giuseppe was. "that day--i was seventeen and my brother was twenty and a great deal stronger than i was and it was the year when the visitors, who have brought such prosperity and so many alterations into the village, first began to come. one english lady in particular, of very high birth, came, and has written a book about the place, and it was through her that the improvement syndicate was formed, which is about to connect the hotels with the station by means of a funicular railway." "don't tell me about that lady in here," i observed. "that day we took her and her friends to see the grottoes. as we rowed close under the cliffs i put out my hand, as one does, and caught a little crab, and having pulled off its claws offered it as a curiosity. the ladies groaned, but a gentleman was pleased, and held out money. being inexperienced, i refused it, saying that his pleasure was sufficient reward! giuseppe, who was rowing behind, was very angry with me and reached out with his hand and hit me on the side of the mouth, so that a tooth cut my lip, and i bled. i tried to hit him back, but he always was too quick for me, and as i stretched round he kicked me under the arm pit, so that for a moment i could not even row. there was a great noise among the ladies, and i heard afterwards that they were planning to take me away from my brother and train me as a waiter. that at all events never came to pass. "when we reached the grotto--not here, but a larger one--the gentleman was very anxious that one of us should dive for money, and the ladies consented, as they sometimes do. giuseppe who had discovered how much pleasure it gives foreigners to see us in the water, refused to dive for anything but silver, and the gentleman threw in a two lira piece. "just before my brother sprang off he caught sight of me holding my bruise, and crying, for i could not help it. he laughed and said 'this time, at all events, i shall not see the siren!' and went into the blue water without crossing himself. but he saw her." he broke off, and accepted a cigarette. i watched the golden entrance rock and the quivering walls, and the magic water through which great bubbles constantly rose. at last he dropped his hot ash into the ripples and turned his head away, and said: "he came up without the coin. we pulled him into the boat, and he was so large that he seemed to fill it, and so wet that we could not dress him. i have never seen a man so wet. i and the gentleman rowed back, and we covered giuseppe with sacking and propped him up in the stern." "he was drowned, then?" i murmured, supposing that to be the point. "he was not" he cried angrily. "he saw the siren. i told you." i was silenced again. "we put him to bed, though he was not ill. the doctor came, and took money, and the priest came and took more and smothered him with incense and spattered him with holy water. but it was no good. he was too big--like a piece of the sea. he kissed the thumb-bones of san biagio and they never dried till evening." "what did he look like?" i ventured. "like anyone who has seen the siren. if you have seen her 'often and often' how is it you do not know? unhappy, unhappy, unhappy because he knew everything. every living thing made him unhappy because he knew it would die. and all he cared to do was to sleep." i bent over my note book. "he did no work, he forgot to eat, he forgot whether he had his clothes on. all the work fell on me, and my sister had to go out to service. we tried to make him into a beggar, but he was too robust to inspire pity, and as for an idiot, he had not the right look in his eyes. he would stand in the street looking at people, and the more he looked at them the more unhappy he became. when a child was born he would cover his face with his hands. if anyone was married--he was terrible then, and would frighten them as they came out of church. who would have believed he would marry himself! i caused that, i. i was reading out of the paper how a girl at ragusa had 'gone mad through bathing in the sea.' giuseppe got up, and in a week he and that girl came in together. "he never told me anything, but it seems that he went straight to her house, broke into her room, and carried her off. she was the daughter of a rich mine-owner, so you may imagine our peril. her father came down, with a clever lawyer, but they could do no more than i. they argued and they threatened, but at last they had to go back and we lost nothing--that is to say, no money. we took giuseppe and maria to the church and had them married. ugh! that wedding! the priest made no jokes afterwards and coming out the children threw stones.... i think i would have died to make her happy; but as always happens, one could do nothing." "were they unhappy together then?" "they loved each other, but love is not happiness. we can all get love. love is nothing. love is everywhere since the death of jesus christ. i had two people to work for now, for she was like him in everything--one never knew which of them was speaking. i had to sell our own boat and work under the bad old man you have to-day. worst of all, people began to hate us. the children first--everything begins with them--and then the women and last of all the men. for the cause of every misfortune was--you will not betray me?" i promised good faith, and immediately he burst into the frantic blasphemy of one who has escaped from supervision, cursing the priests, the lying filthy cheating immoral priests who had ruined his life, who had murdered his brother and the girl, whom he dared not murder back because they held the key of heaven and could ruin him in the next life too. "thus are we tricked!" was his cry and he stood up and kicked at the azure ripples with his feet, till he had obscured them with a cloud of sand. i too was moved. the story of giuseppe, for all its absurdity and superstition, came nearer to reality than anything i had known before. i don't know why, but it filled me with desire to help others--the greatest of all our desires i suppose, and the most fruitless. the desire soon passed. "she was about to have a child. that was the end of everything. people said to me 'when will your charming nephew be born? what a cheerful attractive child he will be, with such a father and mother!' i kept my face steady and replied 'i think he may be. out of sadness shall come gladness'--it is one of our proverbs. and my answer frightened them very much, and they told the priests, who were frightened too. then the whisper started that the child would be anti-christ: you need not be afraid: he was never born. "an old witch began to prophesy, and no one stopped her. giuseppe and the girl, she said, had silent devils, who could do little harm. but the child would always be speaking and laughing and perverting, and last of all he would go into the sea and fetch up the siren into the air and all the world would see her and hear her sing. as soon as she sang, the seven vials would be opened and the pope would die and mongibello flame, and the veil of santa agata would be burnt. then the boy and the siren would marry, and together they would rule the world, for ever and ever. "the whole village was in tumult, and the hotel keepers became alarmed, for the tourist season was just beginning. they met together and decided that giuseppe and the girl must be sent inland until the child was born, and they subscribed the money. the night before they were to start there was a full moon and wind from the east, and all along the coast the sea shot up over the cliffs in silver clouds. it is a wonderful sight, and maria said she must see it once more. "'do not go,' i said. 'i saw the priest go by, and someone with him. and the hotel keepers do not like you to be seen, and if we displease them also we shall starve.' "'i want to go,' she replied. 'the sea is stormy, and i may never feel it again.' "'no, he is right' said giuseppe. 'do not go--or let one of us go with you.' "'i want to go alone,' she said; and she went alone. "i tied up their luggage in a piece of cloth, and then i was so unhappy at thinking i should lose them that i went and sat down by my brother and put my arm round his neck, and he put his arm round me, which he had not done for more than a year, and we remained thus i don't remember how long. "suddenly the door flew open and moon-light and wind came in together, and a child's voice said laughing 'they have pushed her over the cliffs into the sea.' "i stepped to the drawer where i keep my knives, and the child ran away. "'sit down again' said giuseppe--giuseppe of all people! 'if she is dead, why should others die too?' 'i guess who it is,' i cried, 'and i will kill him.' "i was almost out of the door but he tripped me up and kneeling upon me took hold of both my hands and sprained my wrists; first my right one, then my left. no one but giuseppe would have thought of such a thing. it hurt more than you would suppose, and i fainted. when i woke up, he was gone, and i have never seen him again." but giuseppe disgusted me. "i told you he was wicked," he said. "no one would have expected him to see the siren." "how do you know he did see her then?" "because he did not see her 'often and often' but once." "why do you love him if he is wicked?" he laughed for the first time. that was his only reply. "is that the end?" i asked, feeling curiously ashamed. "i never killed her murderer, for by the time my wrists were well, he was in america; and one cannot kill a priest. as for giuseppe, he went all over the world too, looking for someone else who has seen the siren--either a man, or, better still, a woman, for then the child might still have been born. at last he came to liverpool,--is the district probable?--and there he began to cough, and spat blood until he died. "i do not suppose there is anyone living now who has seen her. there has seldom been more than one in a generation, and never in my life will there be both a man and a woman from whom that child can be born, who will fetch up the siren from the sea, and destroy silence, and save the world!" "save the world?" i cried. "did the prophecy end like that?" he leant back against the rock, breathing deep. through all the blue-green reflections i saw him colour. i heard him say: "silence and loneliness cannot last for ever. it may be a hundred or a thousand years, but the sea lasts longer, and she shall come out of it and sing." i would have asked him more, but at that moment the whole cave darkened, and there rode in through its narrow entrance the returning boat. the hogarth press telephone hogarth house richmond 496 paradise road richmond surrey list of publications new publications reminiscences of leo nicolayevitch tolstoi. by maxim gorky. authorized translation from the russian by s. s. koteliansky and leonard woolf. 5s. net. the story of the siren. by e. m. forster. 2s. 6d. net. previous publications stories from the old testament. retold by logan pearsall smith, author of _trivia_. 4s. 6d. net. paris, a poem. by hope mirrlees, author of _madeleine_. 3s. net. virginia woolf the mark on the wall. second edition. 1s. 6d. net. kew gardens. with woodcuts by vanessa bell. second edition. 2s. net. katherine mansfield prelude. 3s. 6d. net. t. s. eliot poems. 2s. 6d. net. j. middleton murry. the critic in judgment. 2s. 6d. net. leonard & virginia woolf. two stories. _out of print._ distributed proofreading canada team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net (this file was produced from images generously made available by the internet archive/american libraries.) [illustration: with the spring comes wendy]. the story of peter pan retold from the fairy play by sir j.m. barrie by daniel o'connor illustrated by alice b. woodward toronto the musson book company limited printed in great britain by purnell and sons paulton, somerset, england preface sir j. m. barrie's delightful creation, "peter pan," has by this time taken a secure place in the hearts of children of all ages, and there are few nurseries in the land in which peter, wendy, tinker bell, captain hook and his pirates, the mermaids and redskins, and the exciting world in which they lived, are not as familiar as the most time-honoured lore of fairyland. the popularity of mr. daniel o'connor's version of the story, issued with sir j. m. barrie's kind consent, and illustrated so charmingly by miss alice b. woodward, has induced the publishers to bring out the present re-issue at a lower price. the selections of music which will be found in it are included with the permission of mr. john crook, the composer, and messrs. price and reynolds. contents part i early days part ii the never-never-never land part iii the mermaids' lagoon part iv the underground home part v the pirate ship part vi home, sweet home list of illustrations with the spring comes wendy _colour-plate_ with michael sitting on her back _colour-plate_ the shadow held on beautifully wendy gently kissed his cheek _colour-plate_ away they floated slightly was dancing merrily with an ostrich _colour-plate_ "the crocodile! the crocodile!" the indians crept silently up the lost boys knelt before her _colour-plate_ she was combing her long tresses she slipped out of his grasp a fierce fight ensued spreading his coat to the wind, he sailed merrily _colour-plate_ seized by one of the swarthy ruffians he perceived tinker bell in his glass _colour-plate_ the pirate ship "that man is mine!" _colour-plate_ right into the jaws of the crocodile! nurse to the papooses! he would live in the kennel till his children's return part i early days [illustration: music score] lullaby gold-en slum-bers kiss your eyes, smiles a-wake you when you rise, sleep, pret-ty dar-ling, do not cry, and i will sing a lul-la-by. in one of the nicest nurseries in the world there were beds for three young people called john napoleon, and wendy moira angela, and michael, the children of mr. and mrs. darling. the nursery was wide and airy, with a large window, and a bright fire with a high fire-guard round it, and a big clock, and prettily-coloured nursery-rhyme pictures over the walls. it was in many ways a most interesting household. for one thing, although there was a pretty little parlour-maid called liza, the children were bathed and dressed by a big dog called nana, whose kennel was kept in the nursery. on the evening on which our story begins, nana was dozing peacefully by the fireside, with her head between her paws. mr. and mrs. darling were getting ready to go out to dinner and nana was to be left in sole charge of the children. presently the clock went off with a whirr, and struck--one, two, three, four, five, six--time to begin to put the children to bed. nana got up, and stretched herself, and carefully switched on the electric light. you would have been surprised to see how cleverly she managed to do that with her mouth. then she turned the bedclothes neatly down and hung the little pyjamas over the fire-guard. she then trotted up to the bathroom and turned on the water; after feeling it with her paw to make sure that it was not too hot, she went off to look for michael, who, being the youngest of the three children, must go to bed first. she returned immediately with him sitting astride on her back as though she were a pony. michael, of course, did not want to be bathed, but nana was firm and, taking him to the bathroom, shut the door so that he should not be in a draught. then mrs. darling came to peep at him as he splashed about in the nice warm water. whilst mrs. darling was in the nursery she heard a wee noise outside the window, as a tiny figure, no bigger than a little boy, tried the window-latch, and vanished suddenly at her cry of surprise. she flung the window open, but there was nothing to be seen, nothing but the dim roofs of the neighbouring houses, and the deep blue sky above. she began to frighten herself with eerie bogie tales, for the same thing had happened the day before, when nana had gone to the window and shut it down so quickly that she had cut off the boy's shadow. mrs. darling had found it in nana's mouth, and had carefully folded it and put it away. but she soon felt reassured when her children came in together in answer to her call. john napoleon and wendy were playing at their favourite game of being father and mother, and mrs. darling's beautiful face beamed with delight as she listened to them. suddenly, in rushed mr. darling, very much excited because he could not fasten his evening tie (evening ties are difficult things to fasten, you know). mrs. darling easily managed that for him, and he was soon skipping about the room with michael on his back, dropping him finally into his bed with a big "bump-ah!"---[illustration: with michael sitting on her back.] unfortunately, in going to the bathroom, nana accidentally brushed against mr. darling's beautifully pressed black trousers, and left some of her grey clinging hairs upon them. now no grown-up person likes hairy trousers, so mr. darling was very cross with nana, and spoke of dismissing her. but mrs. darling told him about the weird apparition at the window, how nana had barked at it and shut the window down so fast that its shadow had been cut clean off and left behind. she showed him the shadow, and told him how glad she was to have such a treasure as nana for a nurse. "you see how very useful nana is," concluded mrs. darling, as the faithful dog came in with michael's bottle of cough mixture. but michael was naughty, and would not take it; there was a fine fuss over it, when wendy, being a clever little girl, hit on a brilliant idea. "father should take some of _his_ medicine to keep michael company." "very well," said mr. darling, "we shall see who is the braver." two glasses were fetched and filled in a moment. "one, two, three," cried wendy; michael took his like a man, but mr. darling only pretended to, and quietly hid the glass behind his back. john caught him in the act: "father hasn't taken his!" he cried, and michael, seeing that he had been tricked, burst into a loud "boo-hoo-oo!" mr. darling, to appease michael, thought of what seemed to him an excellent joke. he poured his medicine into nana's drinking-bowl, and when poor nana, thinking that it was something nice, ran eagerly to lap it up, he roared with laughter to see the reproachful eyes she turned upon him. the children, who loved their old nurse very dearly, were terribly distressed as she slunk to her kennel, looking as woeful and as hurt in her feelings as ever a dog did. mr. darling, angry that they did not enjoy his joke in the least, coaxed nana out of her kennel, seized her by the collar and dragged her off in disgrace, to be chained up in the yard, "the proper place for dogs," he said, in spite of the persuasions and pleadings of them all. mrs. darling comforted the children, kissing them very tenderly as mothers always do, tucked them up in their beds, sang them to sleep and, leaving the night-lights burning for company, crept softly out of the room to go to the dinner-party with mr. darling. everything in the big nursery was now still and quiet. suddenly the night-lights flickered, waned, and went out one by one, and there darted into the room a tiny ball of fire, which flitted uneasily about and finally vanished into a jug. then the same slender graceful figure that had so startled mrs. darling leapt from the darkness outside the window. there was just one click, the window was open, and the little creature stepped cautiously in. he seemed to be looking for something; and you will easily guess that what he was looking for was his shadow. "tink, where are you?" he whispered, and as then the light shone on the jug he went on: "tink, do you know where they have put it?" now this little ball of light was really a fairy girl who knew everything worth knowing. most fairies do. all you could see of her was the little flame, but you could _hear_ her distinctly, she made a tinkling noise like a little silver bell, and that was why she was called tinker bell. tinker bell at last rested a few moments on the second drawer of the nursery dresser; instantly the boy ran joyfully to it, and pulling open the drawer snatched out his shadow neatly rolled up, just as mrs. darling had left it. he had found it certainly, but the next trouble was to put it on again. a happy thought struck him; he would stick it on with soap! sitting on the hearthrug, he soaped his feet and then he soaped his shadow, but whichever way he soaped they would not stick together. there is no use in having a shadow if it will not stick to you. after trying and trying in vain the poor little fellow gave up the attempt, buried his face in his hands, and sobbed despairingly. it was then that wendy awoke. she sat right up in bed, and, not at all frightened, said: "little boy, why are you crying?" the elfin creature sprang to his feet, and taking off his cap, bowed very politely. wendy curtsied in return, though she found it a difficult thing to do in bed. "what's your name?" asked the little boy. "wendy moira angela darling. what's yours?" "peter pan." "where do you live?" "second turning to the right, and straight on till morning." this seemed to wendy a very funny address, but she was all sympathy when she heard that peter had no mother. no wonder he was crying! but that was not the reason for peter's tears; he was crying because he could not get his shadow to stick on. this made wendy smile, and she emphatically declared that soap was no good. it must be sewn on. "shall i do it for you?" she suggested, and, jumping out of bed to get her work-basket, she set to work at once. it hurts a good deal to have a shadow sewn on to your feet, but peter bore it bravely. it was the right thing to do, for the shadow held on beautifully, and peter was so delighted that he danced up and down the nursery watching it making patterns on the floor as he flung his arms and legs about. "oh! the cleverness of me!" cried peter, overcome with joy, and he crowed with pleasure, for all the world just as a cock would crow. "you conceit," exclaimed wendy indignantly, "of course _i_ did nothing!" "oh! you did a little!" "a little! if i am no use i can at least withdraw," she said, jumping back into bed and covering her head in a dignified way with the bedclothes. "oh! wendy, please don't withdraw," peter exclaimed in great distress. "i can't help crowing when i'm pleased with myself. one girl is more use than twenty boys." this was rather clever of peter, and at these sensible words wendy got up again. she even offered to give peter a kiss if he liked. peter looked puzzled, but seeing the thimble on wendy's finger he thought she meant to give him that, and held out his hand for it. now wendy saw at a glance that the poor boy did not even know what a kiss was, but being a nice little girl of motherly disposition, she did not hurt his feelings by laughing at him, but simply placed the thimble on his finger. [illustration: the shadow held on beautifully] peter admired the thimble very much. "shall i give you a kiss?" he asked and, jerking a button off his coat, solemnly presented it to her. wendy at once fastened it on a chain which she wore round her neck, and, forgetting the puzzle in his mind, she once more asked him for a kiss. immediately he returned the thimble. "oh! i didn't mean a _kiss_, i meant a thimble!" "what's that?" he asked. "it's like this," replied wendy, and gently kissed his cheek. [illustration: wendy gently kissed his cheek.] "oh!" cried peter, "how nice!" and he began to give her _thimbles_ in return, and ever afterwards he called a kiss a thimble, and a thimble a kiss. "but peter, how old are you?" continued wendy. "i don't know, but quite young. i ran away the day i was born." "ran away--why?" "because i heard my father and mother talking about what i was to be when i became a man. i don't want to be a man. i want always to be a little boy and have fun. so i ran away and lived among the fairies." wendy was almost speechless with delight at the thought of sitting beside a boy who knew fairies, and after a minute said: "peter, do you really know fairies?" "yes, but they're nearly all dead now. you see, wendy, when the first baby laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces, and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies. and now, whenever a new baby is born, its first laugh becomes a fairy. so there ought to be a fairy for every little boy and girl, but there isn't. you see children know such a lot now. they soon won't believe in fairies, and whenever a child says: 'i don't believe in fairies,' there's a fairy somewhere that falls down dead." peter suddenly looked about the room, as though he were searching for something. tinker bell had disappeared! before he could grow anxious, however, a tinkling of bells was heard, and peter, who knew the fairy language, of course understood it. he pulled open the drawer in which his shadow had been hidden, and out sprang tinker bell, very angry with him for shutting her up accidentally in the drawer. she skipped about the room, but wendy gave such a cry of delight that tink was frightened and hid behind the clock. "but peter," continued wendy, "if you don't live with the fairies, where do you live?" "i live with the lost boys." "who are they?" "why, they are the children who fall out of their perambulators when their nurses are looking the other way. if they are not claimed within seven days, they are sent far away to the never-never-never land to defray expenses. i'm their captain." "oh! what fun! but, peter, why did you come to our nursery window?" peter told her that he came to listen to the lovely stories wendy's mother related to her children, for the lost boys had no mothers, and no one to tell them any stories. he also told her how he led them against their enemies, the pirates and the wolves, and how they enjoyed bathing in the lagoon, where beautiful mermaids sang and swam all day long. "i must go back now," he went on, "the boys will be anxious to hear the end of the story about the prince and the glass slipper. i told them as much as i knew, and they're longing to hear the rest." wendy begged him to stay. "i'll tell you lots more," she promised, "ever so many stories if you'll only stay." "come, wendy!" exclaimed peter, struck with a new idea. "you can tell us all the stories there, and darn our clothes, and tuck us in at night. none of us has ever been tucked in. all the boys long for a mother. oh, wendy, do come!" it was a tempting idea to wendy, but a sudden thought came across her mind. "peter, i can't! think of mummy! besides, i can't fly." "i'll teach you, wendy." this was too much for her. "peter, will you teach john and michael to fly as well?" "yes, if you like." so john and michael were awakened, and directly they heard that there were pirates in the never-never-never land they began to clamour to go at once. they watched peter fly about the room, and tried to imitate him, flapping their arms clumsily at first like unfledged birds, and flopping about all over the place. "that will never do," peter said, "i must blow the fairy dust on you. now waggle your shoulders as i do." so they tried, and found that they could fly; just a little at first, from the bed to the floor and back again; then over the bed and across the room, and then, as they grew braver, almost as freely and easily as peter himself. "tink, lead the way!" called peter, and the fairy shot out like a little star. none of the children had time to put on their day clothes, but john snatched his top hat as he flew out of the window, followed by michael. peter pan held wendy's hand, and away they floated into the dark blue depths of the starry night. a minute afterwards mrs. darling, who had just returned from the party, rushed into the nursery with nana at her heels, for nana had been anxious about her charges, and had just succeeded in breaking her chain. but it was too late. the children were already on their way to the never-never-never land. [illustration: away they floated] [illustration: piano score: the arrival of wendy ] part ii the never-never-never land far away in the never-never-never land the lost boys lived in the depths of the forest, on the banks of a lake now covered with ice. the trees were bare without their summer dress, and wolves prowled and howled in the distance, and wild beasts snarled in the undergrowth, and pirates sailed villainously up the lake, and red indians, who were friends of the boys, lived secretly in their wigwams hidden in the glades of the woods. the lost boys, who, in their fur coats, looked more like bears than boys, were anxiously awaiting peter's return. there were six of them: slightly soiled, the eldest; then came tootles, and nibs, and curly, and the twins, who were so much alike that one name did for both of them, so each was called twin. they lived like moles under the ground, for fear of the pirates and the wolves. each one had a special staircase hollowed in a tree-trunk, so that they could easily run down among the roots of the trees into their home. they were playing about happily, although they were beginning to be a little anxious that peter was so long away. slightly was tootling on a whistle, and dancing quite merrily, with an ostrich for partner (a queer companion, you will say), when suddenly the gruff voices of the pirates were heard. nibs, who was very brave, slipped away through the trees to scout, but the others had only just time to scuttle down the stairs in the hollow trees before the big ugly buccaneers came tramping up, hauling their captain, who was sitting in state upon a sledge. [illustration: slightly was dancing merrily with an ostrich.] you could not imagine a more dreadful-looking villain than that man was. his name was james hook, and it suited him! he had two most evil-looking black eyes, his face was seamed with lines which seemed to express his wicked thoughts, his hideous chin, all unshaven, was as black as ink and as prickly as a furze-bush, his hair was long and black, and it hung around his face in greasy curls. he was singing a horrible song about himself, keeping time by swinging in the air the gruesome stump of his right arm, on which a double iron-pronged hook was fixed instead of a hand. hence his name. that man was the most wicked pirate who ever lived! he simply wallowed in wickedness! even his own crew dreaded him; and they were as bad as could be! so no wonder the lost boys darted like rabbits to their cave. now captain hook most of all wanted to find peter pan, for it was peter who, a long time before, in an encounter between the pirates and the lost boys, had cut off his right arm and flung it to a passing crocodile. the crocodile had liked the taste of it so much that ever since he had wandered from land to land and from sea to sea licking his lips for the rest of the captain. the captain had naturally some reason for hating peter, for he had a dreadful time in eluding the pursuit of the voracious crocodile, but still the beast dogged his footsteps, and followed him on and on and on by land and sea wherever he went. the captain only got a start when the crocodile was asleep, and with that and a swift ship he had managed so far to escape. it was an awful life! fortunately for hook, the crocodile had once, in an ill-advised moment, swallowed an alarum clock (one of those patent ninety-nine-years clocks, warranted to go any time, anywhere and anyhow). go it did, and it ticked so loudly that the captain could always hear it coming, and it was the signal for him to bolt! hook sat down on one of the enormous forest mushrooms (in the never-never-never land mushrooms grow to a gigantic size) to deliberate about his mode of revenge. he was in the middle of a torrent of braggings and boastings when he felt his seat getting not only warm, but much too warm, and little wonder in that, for when he furiously leapt up he found that he had really been sitting on a chimney of the underground home which peter had cleverly disguised. he realised at once that the lost boys must be living in safety down below. very soon he had a wicked, treacherous plan settled. he determined to cook a huge rich cake, with beautiful green icing and a poisoned inside. he was sure that the lost boys, who had no mother to look after them, would eat it greedily, and die with awful pains inside. smee, as the captain's wily lieutenant was called, was overjoyed at this plan, and chuckled loudly. "shake hands on't," said hook, but smee did not want to, and begged to be excused. [illustration: "the crocodile! the crocodile!"] "paw, smee, paw," said the captain in an awful voice, so smee had to take the horrid hook in his hand, and they both danced round while hook sang with diabolical grimaces: "yo ho, yo ho, when i say 'paw' by fear they're overtook; naught's left upon your bones when you have shaken hands with hook." just as he was gloating over his pleasant scheme a queer sound was heard, like a corncrake coming nearer and nearer through a barley field. "tick, tack, tick, tack, tick, tack." "the crocodile! the crocodile!" the pirate captain yelled, and in a moment was flying for his life. the pirates had scarcely disappeared in the depths of the forest when the indians crept silently up in pursuit of them. tiger lily, their chieftainess, was at their head, now running swiftly under the trees, now listening with her ear to the ground, to know where her enemies had gone. for, like tinker bell and wendy, she loved peter pan, and his enemies were her enemies. the redskins slid along, following the pirates with steps as quiet as those of a beetle crawling through the grass. they soon passed far out of sight, and then, one by one, the lost boys peeped from their tree-trunks and, seeing that all was quiet, came out again to their playground in the woods. [illustration: the indians crept silently up] but their safety did not last for long. a fierce barking of wolves was heard, and nibs, who had gone off by himself, rushed, quite out of breath, into the midst of the boys, closely pursued by a pack of lean and hungry wolves with glittering fiery eyes. what were the lost boys to do in this terrible plight, when their leader was far away? fortunately, one of them remembered peter's plan. whenever he was attacked by wild beasts peter used to run at them backwards, jumping along the ground, squinting at them through his legs. the lost boys did this all together, and really, it was so astonishing that the wolves fled with terrified howls to the thickets where they lived.[1] [1] this is a good way of scaring away mad bulls and wild animals, but it is always safer to practise on cows or in the zoo _first_. then nibs told the boys how he had seen the loveliest white bird you could imagine. "it was flying this way," he said, "it looked so wearied, and as it flew it moaned 'poor wendy'." "are you sure it was a bird?" they asked. nibs was quite sure, and almost at once they saw wendy flying through the trees in her white nightgown. tinker bell was by her side, darting at her, and telling the boys that peter wanted her shot, for tinker was rather a bad little fairy sometimes. she said this because she was jealous of wendy, since peter and wendy had kissed each other. instantly, tootles seized his bow and arrow, and shot at the bird, as he thought, and she fell fainting to the ground. at once the boys saw that she was no bird, but a little girl, and perhaps the very mother whom peter had promised to bring them. they were very frightened, and soon were sure that they had done a dreadful thing, for peter came flying down with john and michael, and immediately inquired after wendy. "she flew this way, haven't you seen her?" he asked. "yes," said tootles, and pointed to her as she lay motionless on the ground. peter bent over her and took the arrow, and, in his anger, would have killed tootles with it, if wendy had not stayed him by feebly moving her hand. then they were all glad, for wendy was not dead, as they had thought, but only stunned. the arrow had fortunately struck the button which peter had given her in mistake for a kiss. soon she was quite well again, but so faint and tired after her long flight through the air. the boys did not know what to do. they did not like to carry her down into the cave, as it might not be sufficiently respectful, so they planned to build a house over her. only they did not know what kind of house to build. then wendy sang in her half-sleep the kind of house she wanted: [illustration: music] i wish i had a dar-ling house, the litt-lest ev-er seen. with fun-ny lit-tle red walls, and roof of mos-sy green; and the boys fetched logs out of the forest, and a grate and a rug from the underground cave, and built a beautiful home for her out of wood, and tarpaulin, and make-believe. they made a chimney out of john's tall hat, which he had been londony enough to bring with him, and they made a splendid knocker out of the sole of one of tootles' boots. when it was finished--it was built round wendy as she lay on the ground--peter knocked solemnly at the door, and wendy opened it and came out, very pleased and happy. the lost boys knelt before her, and begged her to be their mother, and tuck them in at night-time, and tell them stories before they went to bed. she said that she was not quite sure if she could, but she would do her best, if only peter would be father, and that now, if they liked to come in, she would tell them the story of cinderella. [illustration: the lost boys knelt before her.] in they bundled, one after the other, to listen to the tale. and they were so big, and the house was so small, that they must have been packed like sardines inside. but a sort of cosy feeling like that was, i expect, just what they wanted, and they were very happy. the evening fell softly down on the forest, and the shadows rose, so that everything was dark and still, save for the occasional baying of a wolf. lights were lit in the little house, and at last, when it was quite night, peter came out with his sword, and walked up and down like a sentry, to guard the new little mother he had brought for the lost boys. part iii the mermaids' lagoon [illustration: she was combing her long tresses] one fine summer evening peter, with wendy and their little family, went down to the lagoon where the mermaids lived. the never-never-never land, as you see, is full of the most strange and interesting creatures; some of them dreadful, like the pirates, wolves, and crocodiles; others, like the fairies and the mermaids, altogether beautiful and charming. wendy and her brothers, who had never seen a real mermaid with a tail, were very much excited, and, as luck would have it, just as they arrived at the lagoon, one of them, seated on a rock, was combing her long tresses, on which the sunlight gleamed, until they shone like a mixture of gold and bronze, for they had a beautiful greenish tinge. as she combed her hair she sang such a wonderful melody that the boys longed to catch her. they instantly dashed into the water, but with a piercing cry of "mortals!" the mermaid dived out of their reach into the lowest depths. "but look! here is another little mermaid! surely we can catch her!" said john napoleon darling, and he very nearly did. mermaids, however, are hard to catch, and when caught, are still harder to hold. john succeeded in getting the little sprite in his hands but, wriggling like an eel, she slipped out of his grasp. breathless with excitement, the whole band of children clambered on to the rocks, when all at once a cry went up: "the pirates!" sure enough a boat was approaching, and in it were seated the two pirate lieutenants, smee and starkey. the boys were already swimming to the shore as fast as they could, when to his horror peter recognised tiger lily sitting in the stern, tightly bound with ropes. in a flash he guessed what was their intention. the wretches meant to leave her, all bound as she was, upon the rock, until the tide came up and drowned her. [illustration: she slipped out of his grasp] determined to save her, peter thought of a clever trick. imitating the wicked captain's voice he called out: "cut her bonds and let her go!" the effect was marvellous: the astonished buccaneers, fearing to disobey their captain, instantly released tiger lily, who leapt into the water and swam towards the boys. the pirates had turned and were rowing back, when they saw hook swimming towards them, and learnt from him how they had been duped. horribly enraged, he chased them out of the boat, leaving them to swim back to the ship as best they might, while he himself set about recapturing tiger lily. but the pirates once safely out of the way, peter and his friends went back to the rock to attack the captain, who was now single-handed. a fierce fight ensued, hook using his iron prong to some purpose on poor peter, while the boys, seizing hook's boat, rowed off with tiger lily in it. at last, finding himself outdone, the captain gave up the fight, and in all haste swam back to his ship. [illustration: a fierce fight ensued] peter, left alone on the rock with wendy, found her so exhausted that she could neither swim nor fly any farther. with difficulty he managed to help her to a firm footing, but the tide was rising, and they were both in great danger. as he watched the water silently creeping nearer, peter almost despaired. but all at once a large kite came flying slowly over the lagoon. in a second peter had seized its tail and, binding it tightly round wendy, he sent her sailing away in safety, bravely calling, "good-bye wendy!" until she was out of sight. then indeed, as the tide rose steadily, peter was in great peril. the water reached his feet, and he was beginning to think it would be a "tremendous adventure to die," when who should come sailing by but a great sea-bird on its nest, which had been blown off the cliffs by the rising storm. "hurrah!" cried peter, "there's a lovely boat for me!" and chasing the bird off, in he stepped, curled himself round and, spreading out his coat to the wind, sailed swiftly and merrily after wendy. [illustration: spreading his coat to the wind, he sailed merrily.] part iv the underground home the days passed merrily in the underground home, where wendy was the sweetest little mother, and peter the bravest father you could ever have found anywhere. the cave was large and roomy, and the rocks out of which it was hollowed were of a deep brown colour. there was a fine large fireplace, and overhead, near the ceiling, were hung baskets and fishing-tackle and all sorts of things likely to be useful to cave-dwellers. wendy had not been long there before she had improved the home and made it as comfortable as her own nursery. it is wonderful what clever girls can do, even with the poorest materials. there was now a huge bed for all the boys, and a basket for michael, because he was the littlest and because a cradle is such a homely thing to have about the house. and in a corner of the room, hidden behind a tiny crimson curtain, there was a wee little room for tinker bell, daintily furnished to suit the tastes of girl fairy. there were stools made of mushrooms for the boys, and two comfortable chairs made of pumpkins, where peter and wendy could sit in state, as was fitting the father and mother of the little family. one saturday night, wendy and the boys were all downstairs together, waiting for peter to come back from a hunting expedition. outside, the faithful tiger lily and her red indian band were keeping guard against the pirates. presently the crackling of branches indicated peter's approach through the underwood. tiger lily sprang up to meet him, and the lost boys ran to the tree-trunk stairways to welcome him on his return. he was the best of fathers; and never forgot to be a little boy, for he had filled his pockets with fruit for the boys who had been good, and he let them rummage through and through his coat like rats in a corn sack. then he turned towards wendy, who was very busy mending the children's socks by the fireside. she looked very charming in her pretty brown frock the colour of autumn leaves, with scarlet berries in her hair, and she made peter very happy as they exchanged thimbles and talked over the boys and their doings as if they had really been their father and mother. when the children clamoured for a dance, peter even said that he was too old for such a game, and that his old bones would simply rattle, and wendy also thought that the mother of such an armful could not go skipping about with her children. so peter sang "sally in our alley," which song wendy thought no one else in all the world could sing so sweetly as the darling of her heart, while the others danced pillow dances, and bolster dances, and turned somersaults on the beds, and did all the other jolly and lively things that everyone wants to do just about bedtime, when one ought to be thinking of going to sleep. at last they quietened down for wendy to tell them just one more story before they were tucked in for the night. they clustered eagerly round, interrupting every sentence, as children always do, even the best of them, while wendy told her story. and the story somehow seemed familiar to john, and michael, and peter, for it was the tale of mr. and mrs. darling, poor dears, who had lost their children one winter night; and how sad they were about it, how lonely they felt, and how the nursery window would always be kept open, ready for the children, if ever they should come flying home again. when she had finished, peter stood up sadly. "no, wendy," he said, "i thought so once, but you cannot be sure that the window will be kept open. when i went back to my mother, the window was barred, and there was another little boy sleeping in my cradle." at that thought, wendy started up with a look of horror in her face: "perhaps by this time, mother may be in half-mourning," she exclaimed, and john and michael felt they dared not stay another moment in the never-never-never land. what would they do if they were too late in coming back, and found other children in their beds, other children being bathed and dressed by nana? they must go home at once. the boys crowded round wendy, imploring her not to leave them, but she was firm. not only would she return with john and michael, but she would take all the boys with her, for her mother to adopt. the boys, as soon as they heard themselves invited to come too, were as happy as larks. for now each of them would have a true mother in mrs. darling, and would live in a house like other boys. in a moment they were packing their baby clothes, and were ready to start on their journey. peter alone refused. he was miserable at the thought of losing wendy, but he couldn't consent to grow old and have a beard, as he knew he must do if he left the never-never-never land. never, never, could he do that! there was nothing for him, then, but to stay behind. wendy was as careful as a little mother in pouring out peter's medicine, and made him promise faithfully to take it every night. but suddenly there was a stamping overhead, and banging and a clashing, and a shouting, and a sound of heavy people wrestling and struggling to and fro. the pirates had taken the red indians by surprise. the children heard the fighting, and listened like mice to the squalling of cats, as frightened as could be, while peter waited with his sword. the battle was very soon over. the redskins were beaten and ran like hares, or crawled dangerously wounded into the thickets. the triumphant pirates were left victorious, though a little out of breath, close above the children's heads. hook, their captain, more wicked-looking than ever, listened at the mushroom chimney. "if the indians have won," peter was saying, "they'll beat the tom-tom." "aha!" thought hook, and he picked up a tom-tom that one of the flying indians had left behind, and sounded it loudly; "rub-a-dub, rub-a-dub, dub, dub, dub." "hurrah!" shouted the children down below. "an indian victory!" "all will be safe," said peter. "you may go now! tink will show you the way," and bidding a hurried good-bye to peter, away they all went up the stairways in the tree-trunks, out into the forest. the pirates were ready for them. as each child came above the ground, he was seized by one of the swarthy ruffians who stood waiting. one by one, and silently, they were captured and flung into boats and transported to the pirate ship, which had anchored in the lake close by. [illustration: seized by one of the swarthy ruffians] everything had been done so quietly that peter was quite unaware of his friends' sad fate. he only knew that he was all alone, that wendy had left him, and that she, and michael, and john, and all the lost boys who had been his companions were on their way from the never-never-never land to the country of the ordinary people who wear tall hats and tail-coats as soon as they are old enough, and grow up one after the other. poor peter threw himself on his bed and sobbed himself to sleep. hook was still lurking about, for the one thing that annoyed him most was that peter had not left the cave with the rest, and was as yet safe. but in his wicked heart a wicked scheme had already risen by which he hoped to kill his enemy. he had carefully listened to wendy's last words: "be sure and take your medicine, peter." here was the captain's last chance. creeping down to the door of the cave, he stretched his long arm round the ledge just inside, and poured a few drops of deadly poison into the glass, and, with a grin of triumph on his ugly face, he threw his cloak over his shoulder and stole away. "tap, tap, tap." somebody was knocking at the door. "who's there?" asked peter sleepily. "tap, tap, tap." he got up and opened the door. tinker bell, tinkling excitedly, flew into the room. "the pirates have captured them!" she tinkled, "the pirates have captured them!" as peter excitedly snatched up his sword and sharpened it very sharply on the grindstone, he perceived tinker bell in his glass of medicine. he soon learnt the reason, when his little fairy told him, in a weak voice, that it was poisoned, and that she had drunk the poison as the only way to save his life. it was indeed an act of self-sacrifice; for too well did tink know how much peter loved wendy, and that no warning of hers would prevent him from keeping his promise. poor tinker bell was dying, and die she would have done were it not that peter, in a frenzy of grief and with tears in his eyes, made this passionate appeal to all children: "do you believe in fairies? if you do, clap your hands, and that will save poor tinker bell." as his cry rang round the world, there came an echo of sound as of millions of little hands clapping, as if all the children throughout the world knew suddenly that of course they believed in fairies. the result was magical. tinker bell was saved; her light, which had been getting fainter and fainter, grew brighter and brighter again; the merry sound of tinkling (her way of speaking to peter) which had almost become inaudible, now grew stronger and stronger. she was once more the bright little fairy that escorted peter to the darling nursery, and again, under her guidance, peter set forth to rescue the boys and wendy. [illustration: he perceived tinker bell in his glass.] part v the pirate ship the pirate ship was a terribly evil-looking craft with its painted sails, its heavy tarred cordage, and its flag with the skull and crossbones upon it, flapping grimly at the stern. the poor children were at once driven into the dark and dirty hold, while hook walked the deck, rubbing his hands and chuckling to himself to think that at last he had them in his power. "are all the prisoners chained so that they can't fly away?" he asked smee, who was very busy at his sewing-machine. "aye, aye, captain," answered smee. "then hoist them up," shouted the captain. he seated himself on a chair covered with a white bearskin, waiting while the boys, whose wrists were chained together, were dragged out of the hold and brought before him. six of them, he said, were to walk the plank at once, but he would save any two who were willing to be cabin boys. the children were not at first sure what walking the plank meant, but hook soon enlightened them by roaring out a song in explanation. [illustration: music] yo ho! yo ho! the fris-ky plank, you walk a-long it so-till it goes down and you goes down to too-ral loo-ral lo-he sang, waving his hook to show how, when the plank tipped, they would be shot into the water and drowned. [illustration: the pirate ship] turning towards john napoleon darling he shouted: "you look as if you had some pluck in you!" john hesitated. in his schoolboy days he had always thought a pirate's life very attractive, so stepping forward, he said: "will you call me red-handed jack?" the captain laughed with delight, and promised to give him that name if he joined the crew. then michael went up to him and slapped him on the shoulder. "what will you call _me_ if i join?" he asked. "black-bearded joe," answered the captain, and until another question arose michael was much pleased. the cabin boys were told that they must of course swear "down with king george!" and to this neither boy would consent. john and michael were then pushed on one side and told that their doom was sealed, while hook shouted, "bring up their mother." in a moment wendy was dragged from the hold, and when the boys rushed to protect her they were pulled back, leaving her standing alone, looking very frightened but pretty in her brown dress, with a long brown cloak wrapped round her. hook asked her if she had any last message for her sons who were about to die. wendy spoke beautifully to the boys, telling them she was sure their real mothers would wish them to die like english gentlemen. her courage so inspired the children that they all cried they would do what their mothers wished. upon this, wendy was cruelly tied to the mast whilst hook's orders were being carried out. but, just as the boys' fate seemed determined, something happened to change hook's glee into terror. "tick! tick! ter-ick, tick, tick!" he heard, and at the dreaded sound he yelled: "the crocodile! hide me, hide me!" in abject fear he rushed to a corner of the ship while his men crowded round him, intent only upon shielding their captain from the jaws of the monster. the boys, too, waited breathless with horror, until with sudden relief and rapture they saw not the crocodile but their beloved captain peter pan appearing over the ship's side. in one hand, at arm's length, he held an alarum clock, the ticking of which had made hook believe that the crocodile was upon him. making a sign to his friends, peter dashed into the cabin, unseen by the pirates, and shut the door. the ticking ceased directly, and hook's terror vanished. returning to his dreadful purpose he cried: "now here's to johnny plank!" again he began to sing, "yo ho, yo ho, the frisky plank," but the boys, filled with hope and excitement, drowned his voice by singing "rule, britannia," and just as the pirate was about to vent his rage upon them he was silenced by a shrill and piercing cock's-crow from the cabin. struck motionless with terror, the crew looked to their captain for some explanation, who ordered gecco, one of his men, to enter the cabin and see what was the matter. hook waited, but gecco did not return, and once again was heard the awful mysterious crowing. "someone must bring me out that doodledoo," roared the captain, and, as no one volunteered, "i thought i heard starkey volunteer," he said, pointing his hook at starkey. mad with terror of the hook as well as of the uncanny creature in the cabin, starkey rushed wildly round the deck, and finally, to escape both, flung himself overboard. furious at this mutinous behaviour, hook shouted, "i'll bring that doodledoo out myself," but he had no better success, and came rushing back in a cowardly fashion, saying: "something blew out the light." a happy idea now struck him. "drive the boys in--let them fight the doodledoo--if they kill him so much the better, if he kills them we're none the worse." this, of course, was just what the children wanted, but, concealing their delight, they allowed themselves to be driven into the cabin. in the meantime, all the pirates huddled together, hiding their faces. sailors, you know, are very superstitious, and they all thought the ship was bewitched. so terrified were they that no one saw peter steal out, followed by the boys, who crept silently up the ladder to the higher deck. no one saw peter cut the ropes which bound wendy, and take her place at the mast, and cover his face with the brown cloak she had left, while wendy joined the boys. "it's the girl!" cried hook, "there's never luck on a pirate ship with a woman aboard; let's throw her over." all the men knew that their captain was right, and one of the pirates started up and shook his fist at the brown-robed figure at the mast. "there's nothing can save you now, missy," he cried. "there is one," came a ringing voice, and the brown cloak was flung aside and there stood peter pan. "down, boys, and at them," he shouted, and with a rush the boys, armed with weapons which peter had found and given them in the cabin, swarmed down upon the lower deck. the pirates believed that all the boys had been slain by the mysterious doodledoo, and were panic-stricken as they saw them with swords and daggers. some of the crew rushed to the bulwarks and leapt overboard; others with their knives fell upon the boys, while hook backed into the cabin fighting for his life. "put up your knives, boys, that man is mine!" cried peter, pointing to hook. the boys turned their attention to the remaining members of the pirate crew, who were one by one forced into the sea, while the two mortal enemies appeared at the cabin door closed in deadly combat. each was determined to kill the other. step by step hook was driven back to the side of the ship. he felt himself weakening. in despair he cried out: "'tis some fiend fighting me! who are you, pan?" [illustration: "that man is mine!"] "i'm youth!" cried peter, "i'm a little bird that has broken out of the egg. i'm youth! i'm joy!" with that he wrenched hook's sword from him and pushed him into the sea, right into the jaws of the waiting crocodile, who caught him at last. [illustration: right into the jaws of the crocodile] the boys burst into ringing cheers as they and wendy crowded round their hero, who stood like a conquering napoleon while the pirate flag was lowered. the fate of the pirates all the pirates save two, smee and starkey, jumped into the sea and were drowned. smee, the irish pirate, who was not so wicked as the rest of the crew, managed to swim ashore, and subsequently became a reformed character and a brave sailor in his majesty's fleet. starkey, who had never shed blood, but had been guilty of many cruel deeds, was captured by the redskins and led a miserable life, for great big little white panther, the indian chief, compelled him to act as nurse to the papooses of the tribe--a sad come-down for a pirate! [illustration: nurse to the papooses!] part vi home, sweet home but at home in the darling household all this time there was deep sorrow. mr. darling, as a punishment to himself for taking their guardian nana away, had vowed that he would live in the kennel till his children's return. for months now he had lived in it, and had been carried to business in it every morning, much to the disgust of the prim little housemaid liza. mr. darling had become quite a celebrity, and great ladies, leaders of society, found him so interesting and touching, that they all cried out as he passed by, "oh, do come to dinner at our house, do come in the kennel!" all the newspapers had asked him to write the cricket and football news for them, and his picture postcards were to be seen in every shop window. but it happened one evening, when he returned from business, carried as usual in the kennel, he was taken up to the now desolate nursery, where mrs. darling spent most of her time mourning for her lost children, while the faithful nana tried in vain to cheer her up. "george, george, i believe you are beginning to _like_ that kennel," she said reproachfully, as he crawled out. he denied the charge, however, and tried to comfort mrs. darling, who never for one moment forgot the little empty beds and the silence and cheerlessness of the nursery. then he left her, and sitting down by the fire, mrs. darling was alone with her sad thoughts. [illustration: he would live in the kennel till his children's return] scarcely, however, had she closed her eyes when three little figures flew in at the window and nestled cosily in their beds. then softly wendy called to her mother. but when mrs. darling looked round she simply couldn't believe that the children were really there. so many times before she had dreamt of their return, that it was not till they all three crowded round her that she realised that they had indeed come home. oh! what joy to feel once more those dear faces, cool and fresh from the flight through the night air, pressed against hers, hot with tears; to hear once more the sound of those sweet voices as they all talked at once. at last, when she was a little calm, wendy began telling her about peter pan and the lost boys, who with peter pan himself were all waiting outside. directly mrs. darling saw them, and heard that they had no mothers, she instantly adopted them all. though the house would be rather crowded, she could easily put up extra beds in the drawing-room, she said, and with a screen on her "at home" days, all could be comfortably managed. the only difficulty lay with peter. much as at first sight he loved mrs. darling, much as he loved wendy, he couldn't consent to grow up. so at last it was arranged that he should fly back alone to the never-never-never land, and that once a year mrs. darling would allow wendy to go and stay with him for a whole week to do his spring cleaning. the tree tops high in the tree tops of the never-never-never land, tinker bell placed the little house that was built for wendy. the tree tops are soft as velvet, and in the evening at twilight are all bejewelled with tiny mauve, and white, and blue lights. the mauve ones are boy fairies, the white, girl fairies, and the blue lights are darling little sillies who are not quite sure what they are. and the still air is filled with the singing of birds and the ringing of hundreds of little fairy bells. but the sweetest sound of all is the fluting of peter pan's pipe as he sits outside the little house and calls to the spring to make haste, because with the spring comes wendy. [illustration: the end] the iceberg express by david cory contents the magic comb the coral palace king seaphus damages the wreck wonderland the enchanted prince the magic seeds candy city toy land the magic comb one bright morning in august little mary louise put on her hat and went trudging across the meadow to the beach. it was the first time she had been trusted out alone since the family had moved to the seashore for the summer; for mary louise was a little girl, nothing about her was large, except her round gray eyes. there was a pale mist on the far-off sea, and up around the sun were white clouds edged with the hues of pinks and violets. the tide was coming in, and the waves, little at first, but growing larger every moment, were crowding up, along the sand and pebbles, laughing, winking and whispering, as they tumbled over each other, like thousands of children hurrying home from school. who was down there under the blue water, with the hoarse, hollow voice, urging and pushing them across the beach to her feet? and what was there beneath the sea, and beyond the sea, so deep, so broad and so dim, away off where the white ships, that looked smaller than seabirds, were gliding out and in? but while mary louise stood still and wondered, there came a low rippling laugh to her ear. a little distance down the beach a girl, somewhat older than herself, rested on the beach. she evidently was tired from swimming, for she lay half in the water and half on the warm sand, her face resting on her upturned palms, looking at mary louise with a smile, which seemed to say: "why don't you come over and comb my hair?" indeed, this must have been exactly what she meant, for she held out a pretty pearl comb until mary louise could resist no longer. little mary louise had never before seen such beautiful long hair. it spread like a scarf from the girl's shoulders down upon the sand. mary louise had forgotten that there were mermaids, and that mermaids always had most beautiful hair, and that they always combed it with pearly combs! "have you been swimming?" asked mary louise. "yes, a long swim," answered the little mermaid, and she gave a sudden kick in the water with her little feet, or, should i say, with her small fin-tail, which sent the spray flying. "oh, you're a mermaid!" exclaimed mary louise, surprised and delighted at her unexpected discovery. "i saw your finny tail. do you like tails better than feet?" "i never had feet," said the little mermaid, "so i can't say, but i should think they'd be very nice to walk on." "yes, if you go to the mountains, as we did last summer," answered mary louise, "but you don't have to climb hills in the ocean." "perhaps you don't know there are mountains in the sea," said the little mermaid. "of course, you have seen nothing but their tops. what is that little rocky ledge over yonder, where the white lighthouse stands, but the stony top of a hill rising from the bottom of the sea? and what are those pretty green islands, with their clusters of trees and grassy slopes, but the summits of hills lifted out of the water?" "oh!" said mary louise, with a gasp. "you do know geography, don't you? is it pretty, away down there under the waves?" she added wistfully. the mermaid smiled very sweetly as she answered, "yes, it is. there are many wonderful things to see, and many strange beautiful things to hear under the sea! i will comb your hair with my magic comb," and she ran the pearly comb gently through mary louise's hair. "over the sea the white ships sail, out through the mist and the rollicking gale, while deep below the mermaids swim with their finny tails so neat and trim. so please, little magic comb, don't fail to give mary louise a mermaid tail." and the more she combed the longer grew the pretty curls, until, to the astonishment of mary louise, she found her hair trailing down to her very feet. the breeze suddenly blew it to one side, and there on the sand, instead of her two little shoes, was a mermaid's tail, with a flippy-floppy fin on the end! "come with me," said the mermaid, and without a moment's hesitation mary louise followed her into the water and out beyond the breakers, swimming as easily as if she had always been a little mermaid, instead of a girl who wore tan shoes. "where are we going?" asked mary louise, as the dim line of the shore disappeared and there was nothing in sight but the great, restless ocean. the mermaid did not answer, but looked about intently, as if trying to find something. "what are you looking for?" asked mary louise, for she was a curious little girl, and forgot one question as soon as she asked another. "oh, there it is!" exclaimed the mermaid. "come with me. hold your hands out before you like this and dive down!" "but where are we going?" again asked mary louise as they sank lower and lower in the sea. "oh, i forgot," answered the mermaid, turning with a smile to her little companion; "i was so busy looking for the subway entrance that i forgot your question." "goodness!" cried mary louise. "i didn't know there was a subway in the sea!" "to be sure," answered the mermaid. "the track lies along the bottom of the ocean. it's not a railroad train we're going to take, but a water train that comes all the way from the northern seas, sweeping on like a river in the sea. wait till we get down there. you'll see how fast it goes." mary louise was too astonished to speak. "the pullman cars," continued the mermaid, "are icebergs. they come from the north every summer to take a trip south." "whew!" shivered mary louise. "i think we ar near one now, for i feel quite cold." sure enough, she was right, for there close at hand was a great white object. "all aboard!" shouted a big polar bear. "watch your step!" the mermaid helped mary louise to slide on a projecting ledge, and off they went. "now we can enjoy the scenery," laughed the mermaid, as she arranged her tail in an artistic curve and brushed back her hair, which had been swept over her eyes by the swift action of the water. "the train never stops, you know, until it reaches its destination, but that need not interfere with our getting off any time we please should you wish to visit any pretty spot we pass on our journey." just at that moment there was a tremendous crash and mary louise found herself thrown off into the water, while a muffled roar rolled through the depths of the ocean. the coral palace "why, the ocean is full of cracked ice!" exclaimed mary louise, as she and the mermaid rose to the surface and looked about them. "i wonder what it was that caused such a tremendous crash?" "perhaps the whale ice trust is after a big ice supply," replied the mermaid with a laugh. "the ocean depths are no longer a quiet place since this dreadful hot weather set in. just the other day i heard the king of the mermen say that they were about to send a note of protest to neptune for violating the laws of merland!" "i don't know much about it," said mary louise, "except that it's very inconvenient to have one's voyage disturbed in such a way. what are we going to do now?" "how would you like to visit the court of the mer king?" asked the mermaid. "oh, lovely!" cried mary louise. "i've never met any kinds, although i've read about them in fairy stories." "come along then," said the mermaid. "follow me straight down, for i think we are not very far from the coral palace, where king seaphus holds court." placing the palms of her hands together diving fashion, she gave her pretty tail a kick-off, and away she went, head downward, through the water. mary louise followed her example, somewhat surprised at the ease with which she executed this difficult maneuver. in a short time they found themselves on the bottom of the ocean. in the distance could be seen the dim outline of a magnificent castle of pink and white coral. leading up to it was a wide highway, flanked on either side with beautiful sea-grass, and dotted here and there, like milestones, stood columns of beautiful coral. banks of exquisite mother-of-pearl rose at intervals along the way; water plants of various hues grew in wild profusion. "why, it's very much like the earth," exclaimed mary louise, "only one doesn't walk, and its not dusty, and--and it's not hot and sunny!" "no, indeed!" said the mermaid. "but sometimes we have a pest of water gnats that are worse than mosquitoes, and we have to put up netting on our bedroom windows to keep them out." as she finished speaking they approached the door of the castle, on which she knocked with a flap of her finny tail. it was immediately opened by a merman dressed in the uniform of a court page. "what can i do for you, your highness?" he asked, bowing low. "why, are you a princess?" asked mary louise in surprise, turning quickly to the mermaid and forgetting for the moment that they were on the steps of a real merman's castle. the little mermaid only laughed in reply, and taking mary louise by the hand led her through the coral doors to king seaphus. his majesty was seated on a throne of pearl, studded with many precious stones. a long emerald robe fell from his shoulders and on his head rested a magnificent crown set with glittering jewels, which gleamed and sparkled in the dim light of the royal chamber. "ah, my daughter, whom have you here?" he asked, leaning from the throne and gazing intently at little mary louise. "methinks she is a mermaidized mortal!" at which the king laughed loudly, for he was very fond of coining words and was busily engaged, when his state duties did not interfere, in compiling a new dictionary. "you are right, father seaphus," replied his beautiful daughter. "let me introduce little mary louise." the king rose graciously and extended his royal right hand. mary louise made a low curtsey, finding it much easier now that she was a mermaid to perform this little act of graciousness on account of the flexibility of her tail. legs, of course, are indispensable for walking; but, then, in these days of new inventions, when the air is invaded by wing, and the earth traversed by wheels, and the depths of the waters by mechanical fins, walking may soon become a lost art! something like this may have flitted through her mind, but she only answered in a trembling voice, "how do you do, your majesty!" "you are welcome, 'mermaid mary,' to our kingdom of the sea," he replied. "i hope you will enjoy your stay with us." so saying, he gallantly lifted his gold crown as little mary louise made another curtsey. "let us dress for dinner," said the mermaid. they swam quickly upstairs between two balustrades of lovely coral to her bedroom. it was just like fairy-land; at least, it seemed so to little mary louise, as she looked about the pretty room. in one corner stood a beautiful bed of mother-of-pearl, hung with varied colored sea grass for curtains. sea moss made it as soft as down. in fact, it seemed almost softer to mary louise, who by this time was very sleepy. she rested her tired little body upon the cushions and in a few short seconds was sound asleep. the princess mermaid looked at her with loving eyes, while she sang very low and sweetly: "sleep, little sister, for when you awake, we'll have a fine dinner of fishes and cake!" i think the mermaid took somewhat after her royal father for she often spoke in rhyme, which she composed as she talked, while his great delight, as has been mentioned before, was to coin a new word for his dictionary. leaving mary louise to her slumbers, the princess mermaid sat herself down before her mirror and combed her hair. presently, she went over to her wardrobe and took out a beautiful shimmery pink shawl. what it was made of i cannot tell, except that it shivered and quivered with little colors like a rainbow. perhaps it was made of changeable sea-silk. at any rate, mary louise, who at that moment opened her eyes, thought it was the most exquisite thing she had ever seen. "is it really for me? is it really?" she asked with a cry of delight, as the mermaid came toward her. "of course it is, my dear," replied the mermaid princess, "and as soon as you have put it on, and combed your hair--you needn't wash your hands and face, you know--the banquet will be ready." mary louise clapped her hands and hopped, or, rather, flopped about, so happy was she to receive such a gift in the depths of the sea. when she was dressed in the lovely shawl, and a beautiful mother-of-pearl comb fastened in her hair, the princess mermaid declared she looked "too sweet for anything!" then they floated down, arm in arm, to the great dining hall. king seaphus the great dining hall of king seaphus was considered by all the inhabitants of merland--that is, all those who had been lucky enough to have seen its splendor--to be the most magnificent of its kind anywhere. the dining table, or banquet board, as it was called, was made of mother-of-pearl. the pale, shimmery cloth was woven from the most delicate of sea-grasses. the gold and silver plates shone with a strange luster, and the goblets, fashioned of the thinnest and most exquisite pearl, gave the impression that they were strange sea lilies. king seaphus seated himself majestically at the head of the banquet board, and little mary louise was shown the place on his right. at the other end sat the mermaid princess. mermen in dark green liveries served the meal. but what delighted and interested mary louise the most was the way in which the food was served. instead of ordinary, everyday dishes, it appeared in little airtight boats, which the servants guided dexterously to the table, and when opened, the steam escaped in hundreds of little bubbles that took on all the hues of the rainbow. these slowly ascended through the pale green water until they reached the surface, where they probably floated off in the air, until they burst, like fairy soap-bubbles. all kinds of delicious fish, little pink and white crabs, goldfish, luscious oysters, and, finally, coral-candy, made up the different courses of the dinner. when it was over and the coffee was served in a beautiful room adjoining, king seaphus smoked a big cigar, which, to mary louise's amazement, glowed and burned like any ordinary havana her father smoked at home. after king seaphus had smoked away in perfect silence for some time, he turned to mary louise and asked: "where were you going, my dear, when you met my daughter?" "oh, nowhere in particular," replied little mary louise quickly. "you see, i was playing on the beach when i saw the princess, and--and--and---" "then i combed her hair with my magic comb," said the princess, coming to the relief of little mary louise, who was very much embarrassed by the question. you see, she was not at all accustomed to hold conversation with royalty, and to be talking to a merman king was, perhaps, even more disconcerting. "we took the subway," continued his daughter, "we caught the iceberg express, and, well, here we are." "so i see," said the king. mary louise gave a giggle and, forgetting her embarrassment, exclaimed, "and just as we were safe on board, after the polar bear porter had told us to 'watch our step,' there was an awful explosion, and we found ourselves floating about in the midst of a lot of cracked ice." "indeed," exclaimed king seaphus, "this is the second time in the last month we've had an accident on the sea bottom subway. i must call in my prime minister and have an investigation begun at once." pulling vigorously on a beautifully braided sea-grass rope, he awaited the coming of a page. little mary louise heard the far-off tinkle of the bell, and presently the mer-bell-boy appeared. "summon his most excellent self, the prime minister," commanded king seaphus. the mer-boy page glided away and presently appeared, deferentially escorting the prime minister. the latter was a very distinguished looking person. his long, white beard was parted gracefully in the center, no doubt by the action of the water as he swam up to where the king sat. as befitted so important an official, he was clad in a long, red robe, which reached nearly to the end of his fin-tail. his head was adorned with a crimson cap and tassel made of the softest velvet sea-grass. "what is your majesty's command?" he asked, bending low before king seaphus. the king did not reply for a moment. he was a wise king, and thought for several minutes before he spoke. this made the prime minister fidget about on his tail. if he had been a prime minister of any land, and not of the sea, he probably would have stood first on one leg and then on the other, but, as he had no feet, he shifted about uneasily on his fin-tail until the king spoke. "i hear there has been another wreck on the sea bottom subway." the prime minister coughed, and little bubbles rose from the end of his nose, the sight of which almost caused mary louise to giggle aloud. but she remembered her manners in time and saved herself the mortification of such a breach of etiquette. "yes, your royal highness," admitted the prime minister, "but i understand it was not at all serious. one of the iceberg cars was demolished, and one of the polar bear porters, i believe, although i am not certain at the moment, was slightly injured. none of the passengers was hurt, with the possible exception of a star fish, who complained of a slight pain in one of his five fingers--i forget, for the moment, which finger." "is the road again in operation?" inquired king seaphus. "not yet, your royal highness," replied the prime minister, "but i have every assurance from the management that trains will be running, at the very latest, by tomorrow morning." "you will have to spend the night with us, then," said the princess, turning to mary louise, with a smile. "you know," she added in a whisper, "i'm glad there was an accident; otherwise you would not have come to our castle, and we might not have grown to be such friends." "don't whisper, my daughter," said king seaphus. "your mother will think, should she hear that you had been so rude during her absence, that she cannot leave home to even visit her mother for a week without your becoming demoralized." the prime minister coughed behind his hand, while the little bubbles rose again through the pale green of the sea-water. mary louise felt quite embarrassed, and the little princess blushed. king seaphus looked sternly at all three. just then a loud knocking was heard on the castle door. "billows and breakers!" exclaimed the king, "what is that?" damages king seaphus waited anxiously as the knocking on the castle door continued. "billows and breakers," he exclaimed again, expectantly waiting for the visitor or visitors to be announced. just as his impatience was nearly exhausted, a court page appeared escorting a polar bear and a star fish. mary louise at once recognized the former as the porter on the iceberg express. the visitors bowed respectfully to the king, and the little star fish winked one of his five small eyes at the princess. the polar bear smiled at mary louise, but said nothing. "well," exclaimed king seaphus, after a brief silence, "you honor us by your presence, but, what do you want?" "i want redress," cried the star fish in a queer little gurgle. "you want what?" thundered the king, realizing now that his visitors were looking for damages on account of the accident. this naturally worried him, as he was a heavy stockholder in the sea bottom subway. "one of my five fingers has been badly bruised," continued the star fish, "for which reason i shall sue for damages." "i have suffered internal injuries," said the polar bear, speaking up quickly, encouraged by the independent manner of the star fish. "internal injuries!" laughed the king; "infernal fiddlesticks, i have heard that tune before!" "your highness," interposed the star fish, "my condition is quite serious. as i have but five fingers, to have one of them injured is far worse than to have one of my feet, for of the latter i have hundreds." the king looked at him inquiringly. although he was monarch of the sea, perhaps he did not know that a star fish, while he has hundreds of little feet, has no legs at all. even his feet do not move as ordinary feet do, one before the other; they can only cling like little suckers pulling him slowly along from place to place. "neither am i like the everyday common fish. my mouth is in the center of my body, and i have a little scarlet-colored sieve through which i strain the sea-water. i couldn't think of swallowing sea-water with everything that might be floating in it." "holy mackerel!" exclaimed the king, under his breath, "i'd better settle with this individual as quickly as possible. he'll drive me crazy if i don't, and maybe, cause me no end of trouble." "your royal highness," began the polar bear, "i was hit by a large piece of ice in the chest." "in the ice-chest or in the ice-box?" inquired the king, his humor getting the better of his anger, for he could never let go by an opportunity to make a pun. "your royal highness," interrupted the star fish, "i wish to state that i took this little trip for my health. my doctor told me i must go south. so i boarded the iceberg express at cape cod, intending to spend the summer in the mountains." "in the mountains!" roared king seaphus. "you don't go to the seashore for the mountains! you should have gone inland to the white mountains or the catskills--those are well-known summer resorts." "may it please your royal highness," said the star fish, stroking his beautiful purple coat with one of his five little fingers, "i was bound for the caribbean sea, which is as full of mountains as new hampshire and vermont are. of course, none of them have caps of snow like mount washington, for it's nice and warm in the caribbean sea; that's the reason i want to go there. but, if the iceberg express is wrecked, how am i to continue my journey?" "sufferin' mackerel!" exclaimed king seaphus; this time he uttered the words aloud and not under his breath, "sufferin' mackerel! i'll see that you get there, if i have to charter a special train!" "but what about my finger?" asked the star fish. "oh, i'll reimburse you for your ticket," exclaimed the king. "and now, what can i do for you?" he asked, turning to the polar bear. "train porters have very low wages," replied the polar bear. "very well," answered king seaphus, "i will see that yours are doubled," and he waved the two visitors away with a haughty gesture. the court page then escorted them to the door. "you heard what i said," cried the king, turning to the prime minister. "now go to the general manager of the sea bottom subway and inform him of my wishes. also that he must have an express ready to start for the caribbean sea tomorrow morning without fail." the prime minister bowed respectfully and departed. "whew!" exclaimed the king, smiling at mary louise and his daughter as soon as the three were again alone, "if that star fish wasn't a walking encyclopedia! he had everything at his five finger-ends!" "i think i'll take the same train as the little star fish," said mary louise, "for i've never been to the caribbean sea and i think it must be a lovely place." "may i go with mary louise?" asked the mermaid princess. "well, i don't see why not," answered her father, after a pause, "only you must get back inside of a fortnight, for your mother will be home by that time." "i must see that my mother-of-pearl trunk is packed," said the princess. "come with me, mary louise." then curtseying to the king, they swam up the water stairway to the room of the little mermaid. the next morning found mary louise and the mermaid princess waiting anxiously at the station for the iceberg express. on the platform they recognized among the passengers their little friend, the star fish. in a few minutes the express thundered into the station. "watch your step!" yelled the polar bear porter as he helped mary louise and the princess on board. then with a rush and a roar the iceberg express started on its journey for the mountains of the sea! the wreck mary louise and the mermaid princess settled themselves back comfortably in their seats and looked about them. the iceberg express certainly had every convenience. of course almost everything was made of ice. but, then, so is most everything in a pullman car made of steel. there was really very little difference except that the ice was much prettier, it was so clear and white, and the moss cushions that covered the seats were soft and springy. the crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling were resplendent with little twinkling lights, and the curtains at the ice-paned windows were made of the thinnest spun ice threads. even the little drinking cups that were packed in a column, one within the other, at the ice water tank, were made of thin ice. "i don't feel the least bit cold," said mary louise, turning with a laugh to her mermaid friend. "do you?" "not the least bit," she replied. "it's so different, though, from the first train we were on," continued mary louise. "it isn't anything like it really. why, the first train was only an ordinary iceberg, don't you remember?" "that's because we never went inside," replied the mermaid. "we didn't have the opportunity, the explosion came so soon." "that's so," agreed mary louise. "the only think i distinctly remember is the polar bear porter calling out to be careful, and then the awful explosion. after that we were in the water and there was nothing around us but cracked ice." "dining car in the rear," announced the polar bear porter, walking down the isle with a menu card held gracefully in his paw. "last call for the dining car!" "goodness!" exclaimed mary louise. "let's hurry, or we won't be able to get anything to eat, and i always love to eat in a dining car." jumping up from the seat, she and the princess swam down the aisle, across the vestibuled platform, through the next car, and then into the diner. there were quite a number of passengers still seated at the different little tables. a soldierly looking penguin sat at one and a few tables beyond a motherly looking seal with a baby boy seal at her side was just finishing some delicious looking pink water ice. mary louise and the mermaid sat down at the nearest table and looked over the menu. it was great fun selecting what they wanted, and when they had finished their water ices they felt that they had dined most sumptuously. they then returned to their seats and looked out of the window for a time. strange sights met their eyes as the train rushed on. there were no telegraph poles to count, nor cows to see grazing in green meadows. instead, however, were numerous fish swimming here and there, some of gorgeous coloring, others of white or silver hue. hills and valleys of sand, as well as long meadows of seaweed, stretched away for miles and miles. strange-looking sea animals crawled close to the rushing train. if they came too close the suction of the water drew them along until they disappeared beneath the car. as darkness settled down over the quiet deep, mary louise turned from the window with a sigh. "i feel sleepy already," she said, "and it's only supper time!" "we'll tell the porter to make up our berths," said the mermaid princess. "he can do it while we are having our supper in the dining car." on their return they found their berth in readiness. soft green seaweed curtains hung gracefully to the floor, one of them being drawn aside, showing a little white bed. it looked as comfortable as her own little bed at home, mary louise thought. it took the two little mermaids but a few minutes to undress, and as soon as their tired heads touched the pillow they were sound asleep. softly the seabells are ringing away, dipping and dripping and white with the spray, ding-dong, and ding-dong, and ding-dong, so deep, the seabells are singing me softly to sleep. over and over again in her dreams little mary louise repeated this song. then suddenly the bells seemed to change their tune. they clanged out wildly until a sudden loud crash awoke her with a start. the engine whistle was sending forth loud, warning cries. the mermaid princess began to tremble with fright. "what do you suppose is the matter?" she whispered. "i'm sure i don't know," replied little mary louise. "perhaps there's something on the track." by this time all the passengers were thrusting their heads out through the curtains of their berths. "porter, porter!" called the penguin, who had been vainly pressing the electric call-button. but as usual, when a porter was wanted he is nowhere to be found. then the baby seal began to cry. suddenly all the lights went out. mary louise hastily caught up her clothes and commenced dressing. "thank goodness," she said in a trembling voice, "i don't have to bother with stockings!" "i never was anything but a mermaid," said the princess in a frightened whisper, "so i don't know anything about them!" "where's my waist?" asked mary louise, hardly able to keep from crying. "i can't find it anywhere, and it's so dreadfully dark, too." "oh, dear me!" suddenly cried the mermaid princess. "i believe i'm trying to get yours on over mine. i'm so excited i forgot that i already had on my own." "well, i'm dressed at last," exclaimed mary louise after wriggling and squirming about for a few minutes longer. "isn't it awful hard work dressing in a berth?" suddenly the engine bell clanged out more furiously than ever. the whistle shrieked again and again. mary louise looked with frightened eyes at the princess who gave a cry of terror and threw her arms about her neck as the lights again went out. then there was a sudden crash, and the iceberg express shivered and toppled over. the next instant mary louise and the mermaid princess found themselves in the water. it was quite warm and pleasant, and in a few minutes they reached the surface. to their surprise they saw their fellow passenger, the little star fish, swimming near them, and not far away, on a piece of ice, the polar bear porter. "where are we?" asked mary louise. but no one replied to her question, although the star fish looked all around, before and behind and both sides at once, which i'm sure you can't do no matter how hard you may try--while with his fifth eye he kept a bright lookout for sharks. presently the polar bear porter replied, "i think we are in the caribbean sea." and if you don't know where that is, please get out you map of north america, although school is over, and find it. "i never thought we'd get here so soon," said the little star fish at last. "you see, i boarded the train somewhere off cape cod. and that's a long way from here." "i got on much farther north," said the polar bear porter, fanning himself with a large sea shell. "gracious me, but it's dreadfully hot down here." "this caribbean sea is as full of mountains as new hampshire and vermont are, but none of them have caps of snow like that which mount washington sometimes wears," said the mermaid princess. "snow wouldn't last a second under this hot sun." "where did you learn all this?" asked mary louise. "oh, i went to the coral school for girls," answered the mermaid princess, and she sighed, for she suddenly remembered she was a long way from home. just then the little star fish met a soft little body, much smaller than himself, who invited him to visit her relatives, who live, by millions, in this mountain region. so off they started for coraltown, where this little miss polyp lived. her father and mother, brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts, were all polyps. they had built the coral islands by fastening themselves to the tops of the mountains under the sea, year after year, and at last their soft bodies had turned into stone. and now you know how these millions of little polyps finally made the small islands that dotted the surface of the water. after the star fish and his little friend had swum away, mary louise spied a boat drifting toward them. so she and the mermaid princess scrambled inside, and the polar bear porter hoisted a sail, which he found wrapped around a mast in the bottom of the boat. "hip, hurrah, we're off once more," shouted the polar bear, waving his paw, and the mermaid princess laughed in glee as he held the tiller and sailed o'er the sea! by and by the air became colder and the mermaid said: "we must be near my father's castle. i think i'll slip into the ocean and swim home." "before you go, please comb my hair with your magic comb so that i may be a little girl again," begged mary louise; "i don't want to be a mermaid forever." as soon as the magic pearl comb touched mary louise's hair her tail changed into her own little pair of legs. "now kiss me good-by," said the little mermaid princess, and, with a splash, she disappeared in the ocean. wonderland for a few minutes mary louise felt quite lonely. presently she asked the polar bear to be kind enough to land her on the nearest shore. at once the big kind animal trimmed in his sail and before long they entered a beautiful bay whose dark waters were dotted with the white sails of the fisher boats, and directly in front, climbing up to the sky, a high mountain on which stood a castle, where from a tall tower all night long shone a light that could hardly be told from the stars around it. mary louise jumped from the boat to the beach, and then turned to wave good-by to the polar bear as he sailed away to the north pole. nearby sat an old fisherman on a bench mending his net. "hello, little girl," he said, as mary louise hesitated. "moor your little hulk 'longside o' me an' i'll spin you a yarn!" then he began to tell how, many hundred years ago, all the land around about was covered with a thick forest instead of the deep blue water of the bay. then came the great giant cormoran, who was 18 feet high and 3 yards wide, and his wife cormelian, who was just as big, and they brought from the hills great gray rocks which they piled up, one on the other, hundreds of feet high, until they had made a mountain. and on the top of this they built their castle, where they lived until the giant's wife died and was buried under the chapel rock. then jack the giant killer climbed up the mountain, and after a hard fight cormoran was killed, and there were no more giants in the land. next came the small people, who cut down most of the forest, and built cottages for themselves, ploughed the fields and made gardens. but one day a great enchanter came that way, and his strange dress and long gray beard frightened the women and children, and they shut their doors in his face whenever he asked for a drink, for he had walked far and was tired and thirsty. at last he found the principal man of the small people, a little old crusty fellow and very miserly. and when the great enchanter asked him for a drink of water, the small man told him he didn't keep a hotel for beggars. and this made the great enchanter so angry that he struck the ground with his staff, so that it made a deep hole, and then he went upon his journey. soon a little spring of water bubbled up through the hole, and by and by a stream burst forth that swelled to a river, and after a time the whole land was drowned, and only the high mountain remained above the water. but the small people who were buried under the water didn't die. they lived on just the same, waiting for the enchanter to return and lift the spell, and the land to rise, again with all the people on it. when the old fisherman had finished his story, he said, "i will take you in my boat to see the small people deep down in the water. "yes, come with me in my boat and you shall see the wonderland under the sea." as soon as the old fisherman had hoisted the sail, away they went out to sea over a wide path of moonlight like a silver road leading straight out to the sky where it dipped down to the water. all of a sudden mary louise noticed something come close up under the side of the boat, and remain there staring straight at her. she bent over until she nearly touched the water, when what she had taken for a fish appeared to be a very odd-looking little man. he was even shorter than she, very broad about the shoulders, with funny little arms and feet that were brought together at the heels, with the toes turned straight out when he stood up, making them look like a fish's tail. his eyes were big and round, without any eyelids or eyebrows. but his mouth was the funniest part, and when he opened it, he looked like a fish trying to talk. he was dressed in silvery white, shaded to blue and green. with a sudden nod, he pointed to the road which opened behind him down through the depths of the water until lost in the distance. little mary louise could not take her eyes from him, and, forgetting all about the old fisherman and the boat, she bent over more and more, so as to look closer at the funny little old man, until, splash! down she went into the water. then came a tremendous ringing in her ears and she felt her breath go and she knew nothing more until she found herself standing with the strange little fish man by the side of a splendid carriage made of a scallop shell, burnished until it shone with pearl and silver, and drawn by two beautiful gold-fish and two silver-fish harnessed with the silken threads of the finest sea-mosses, and driven by an old coachman that looked like a mackerel. "we are the sea-horses of the deep, and we race through the waters blue, faster than wind and swifter than tide we gallop the ocean through." "jump in," said the little old fish man; and without a question mary louise stepped into the carriage and sat down on the beautiful pea-green cushions. then the little man got in, the mackerel-faced coachman cracked his whip, the gold and the silver fishes darted ahead, and away they went. great trees waved their long branches as the carriage swept past, and odd-looking shapes came out from behind them. huge mouths opened and shut, long arms waved about trying to catch anything in their reach, and fierce looking monsters with fishes' heads came rushing in from all sides, to stare at little mary louise with their great savage eyes. presently the little old man stood up and bowing politely, told them that mary louise had never caught a fish with a cruel hook. then these dreadful monsters snapped their horny jaws and swam away. at once the mackerel-faced coachman whipped up his team of gold and silver fishes and away they went spinning down the road again. at last the carriage stopped in front of a fine mansion, and mary louise and the little old man jumped out on the smooth beach of sparkling sand which sloped down to a glassy lake on which curious and beautiful little boats were sailing in all directions. along the edge of the lake were many houses, some stately castles and some little cottages. the little cottages were covered with creeping plants abloom with red flowers and the stately castles with moss like vines. but the people. oh dear me! they were the strangest folk! some had very long noses and ugly looking teeth in their wide mouths, and others were so thin they looked like small sticks, and others so round that they could almost trundle themselves along like a coach-wheel. some were dressed in the shabbiest clothes, others in splendid suits, and some covered with knobs and spikes and strange looking armor. "come," said the little fish man, and he led mary louise into his house. presently he brought out from a closet a quaintly shaped box. "it is the legend of wonderland that a little girl shall break the spell that hangs over us. for it is deemed well-nigh impossible that a mortal child would venture beneath the water to visit us. therefore, little mary louise, if i call all my people together, will you open this box and deliver us from the spell of the great enchanter?" "i will," she answered bravely, and at once the little old fish man called together all his subjects. as little mary louise looked at the box she saw printed on the cover these words: "if a little girl mortal shall uncover this prize, the sea will sink and the land will rise." and, would you believe it, the first thing she knew after carefully opening the box, she was back in the boat with the old sailor, who was shading his eyes and looking towards a beautiful green island that had suddenly come out of the water. the enchanted prince "would you like to land on the island?" asked the old sailor who seemed in no wise surprised that an island should suddenly come up out of the sea. "yes," gasped little mary louise, "it may be a wonderful place. i certainly saw strange things beneath the water." "to be sure you did," replied the old sailor, taking it as a matter of course that a little girl should make a trip to wonder land under the sea, and return safe and sound. but then, you know, mary louise may have still retained some of the charm of the little mermaid's magic comb. well, anyway, the old sailor steered his boat over to the green island, where mary louise jumped out and after saying good-by to her sailor friend, set off to look for new adventures. after a while, she came to a great wood, where the trees were as big around as smoke stacks on an ocean liner. all of a sudden, she heard the sound of a woodman's ax, and the crackling of the branches as they fell to the ground. "it must be some giant cutting down a tree," she thought, and she started off in the direction of the sound, and by and by, she saw a giant beaver. he was a most wonderful sort of an animal, for he could swing an ax as well as a man. near at hand flowed a great river, where a white water horse snorted as he dashed the spray high in the air with his forefeet. "are you one of neptune's horses?" asked little mary louise. "i once read a story of a little boy named hero who rode with king neptune in his wonderful chariot." "no, little girl," answered the beautiful sea horse kindly. "but i can show you some wonderful things. jump on my back and i will take you to a strange place." then away went the great water horse over the water and through the spray and mary louise wasn't the least bit afraid although she had no water wings and might have slipped of into the water. "where are we going?" she asked, after a while, for by this time they were far away from the shore and going up a dark river. "i'm going to show you the beautiful green waterfall cave," answered the big sea horse, shaking his mane until it seemed almost as if it were raining. well, pretty soon he stopped, telling mary louise to bend over his back, before he swam into a big opening in a gray rock. "now lift up your head," he said, and when mary louise looked around she saw they were in a beautiful cave. all about them were strange people, mermaids and water nymphs, water sprites and mermen, fishes and dolphins, and even a whale, although he wasn't very large. if he had been, he wouldn't have been there, for the entrance to the cave was just wide enough for him to squeeze through. well, no sooner did they see the big sea horse, than they all said at once, "hail to our king!" and crowded around looking curiously at mary louise, and one little mermaid pinched her toe. "this is mary louise," explained the great white sea horse. "i have brought her to our cave to see the wonders of our water country." at once the whale blew a stream of water into the air, the dolphins turned somersaults and the little mermaid who had just pinched mary louise's toe, stood up on a big pearly shell and sang: "in this river that leads to the sea, we all live happy as happy can be, the crocodile comes and opens his jaws, and the giant crab stretches out his claws, and the sword fish chases the sharp toothed shark, but here we are safe when the day grows dark, and the pale white moon looks down from the sky, and the little star winks her golden eye." and when she had finished, she swam up close to the big sea horse and picking up mary louise placed her in a great shell that sailed over the water just like a boat to the end of the cave where a little path ran along close to the water's edge till it came to a door. "tap gently three times," said the little mermaid. and then, all of a sudden, it opened and there stood a great sea serpent. "what do you want?" he asked with a dreadful hiss and his breath was like steam and his long red tongue like a thin flame. "o wise serpent," said the mermaid, "do not frighten little mary louise. she is traveling through our country and means no harm." "then she may come into my kingdom," replied the great serpent, and he glided swiftly away. "do not fear him," said the little mermaid. "i cannot go with you, but you will be perfectly safe," and she closed the door and swam away, leaving little mary louise all alone. it was a strange country in which mary louise found herself as she followed the great serpent who was now some distance ahead. great trees and moss-covered rocks were on every side, and only by keeping to the narrow path was it possible to find a way through them. by and by the serpent stopped at a gate in a high stone wall, which swung open slowly as he tapped upon it. "now, let me tell you something," he said, leading mary louise to a seat beneath a beautiful tree in a large garden close by a stately castle. while she rested on the marble bench the great serpent coiled himself in a ring, his head raised about two feet above the ground. he had wonderful black eyes and as he looked at her she almost fancied there were tears in them. "once upon a time, not so very long ago," he began, "a young prince lived in this castle. but one day a wicked magician disguised as a poor beggar came to the kitchen door and asked for bread. now it happened to be baking day, and the royal baker had just placed a thousand loaves of dough in the oven. he was tired and hot and said to the beggar in a cross voice: 'you must wait until evening.' this made the beggar man dreadfully angry, and the next minute he waved a crooked stick above his head and cried, 'let the master of this castle and his household become snakes!' instantly, a great change came over all who lived in the castle. the prince turned into a serpent and all the retainers became snakes." as he finished speaking, the poor snake gave a low cry and hid his head in the grass. "cheer up," said mary louise, for she knew at once that the serpent was the poor prince in disguise. "i have a magic ring!" dear me, i forgot to mention that the princess mermaid had given it to little mary louise for a charm against evil. "but what can that do for me?" asked the poor serpent prince. "leave that to me," replied little mary louise, and she turned the magic ring around three times, and, all of a sudden, a little black man appeared. "what can i do for you, little mistress?" he asked. "this serpent was once a handsome prince," explained mary louise, "but by the magic of a wicked magician has been changed into a snake. help him to regain his natural shape." "that is a hard matter," said the little black man thoughtfully. "i know this wicked magician. he has great power and it takes a strong charm to work against his evil power." and then the little black man ran his hand through his crinkly hair and thought for a while. "there is a crimson apple that grows in the gardens of the west," he said at last, "which if eaten, enables one to regain his natural shape. but the distance is far, and the way dangerous. and the owner of the garden refuses admittance to any man. but whether he would refuse a little girl, i do not know." "i can but try," said little mary louise bravely. and when the serpent heard this, he lifted up his head and said: "if you will undertake this great deed for me, i will give you whatever you desire, even my castle and all my lands." "i would not take them from you," replied mary louise. "i am only a little girl." and she paused for a moment, wondering when and how she would return to her dear mother's home. "how may i reach the gardens of the west?" she asked anxiously. "you must go down to the sea and wait for the sun to sink in the west," answered the little black man. "and when you see golden rays, like a bright road upon the water, call to king neptune. i will give you a whistle made from a pearl shell on which you must blow three times, and when the king of the sea hears it, he will come to you. but whether he will carry you across the ocean in his chariot, i know not. but you can try." and the little black man disappeared. "do you think you will be able to do all this?" asked the serpent anxiously. "i do," replied mary louise, and she opened the garden gate and made straight for the great ocean, and by and by she came to the beach, where the great waves rolled and broke into foamy spray making the pretty shells glisten in the sun. no sooner had mary louise blown three times upon the magic whistle than king neptune drove up in his beautiful chariot. his splendid horses with foamy manes raised their forefeet and snorted till the old sea king was forced to quiet them. "what can i do for you, pretty maiden?" he asked kindly. "oh please, mr. neptune, take me to the garden of golden apples. i must give one to a poor snake prince that he may regain his human form." king neptune remained silent for a time. at last he put his hand in his great pocket and said with a sigh: "here is a golden apple. it was to be a present to my wife. but it will be of greater use to this poor snake prince." "thank you, thank you," cried mary louise, and running hastily back to the garden she stood before the poor miserable snake. "here is the magic golden apple," she cried in a glad voice. no sooner had the serpent eaten the apple, than, all of a sudden, just as he swallowed the last piece, he changed into a handsome prince and all his retainers and servants who were snakes, you remember, regained their human form. "now you shall have whatever is in my power to grant," said the prince, "even if you ask for my castle." "i will take nothing from you," replied generous little mary louise, "unless you wish to give me the ring you wear on your finger." "it is yours," said the prince. "may you always wear it and remember me." the magic seeds little mary louise placed the ring upon her finger and then bidding the prince good-by turned her steps as she thought, towards home. but she had gone but a short way when she came to a funny little dwarf tugging at a great sunflower, and every once in a while he'd shake the stalk until down would come a shower of black seeds, which he put in a small basket. "hello," cried mary louise, "don't you want me to help you?" when the little dwarf heard her voice, he started to run away, but mary louise caught him by the tail of his coat. "don't be afraid of me, little dwarf, i won't harm you." so the dwarf set down his basket of seeds, and after he had straightened his coat, for it was half off his back, he said: "i'll give you some of the seeds. they are very wonderful seeds." then little mary louise said good-by and by and by she came to a poor woodcutter's hut. in answer to her knock an old woman opened the door. "how do you do!" she said with a bow, and then she told mary louise that her husband had just gone to the village for sunflower seeds. wasn't that strange? it made mary louise laugh and taking from her pocket a handful she showed them to the old lady. "my husband may not find any," she said. "will you give me two that i may plant them on each side of our front door?" then digging a hole in the ground on each side of the step she planted the seeds. and, would you believe it? all of a sudden a yellow stalk sprung up, and pretty soon it was as high as the door and then it was higher than the roof and before long it reached way up into the sky, so far and so high that you couldn't see the top. "goodness gracious me!" exclaimed the old woman. "what kind of seeds are these?" "i'll climb up and see," and up the stalk went little mary louise. bigger and bigger it grew until finally it spread out altogether into a great big meadow covered with sunflowers. everywhere the birds were singing and little rabbits hopping about, and nearby a flock of lambs nibbling the fresh green grass. "oh my!" exclaimed little mary louise, "this is strange, very strange!" when, all of a sudden, one of the sunflowers began to sing: "i love the sun in the big blue sky, as he rolls along his pathway high, through the clouds and over the blue while he brightly shines on me and you. there's no one else that i love so much as the golden sun with his soft warm touch." and then all the sunflowers joined in the chorus: "beautiful, beautiful, beautiful sun, we turn and follow you as you run over the soft and azure sky; beautiful sun with your golden eye." when the song was finished, little mary louise went on her way, and it was very lucky for her that the grass was soft, for she wore no boots, which i forgot to mention she had left a the foot of the big giant sunflower by the side of the poor woodman's hut. well, by and by, she came to a little shoemaker's shop, where the shoemaker sat just outside the door. "have you a pair of red top boots?" she asked. and would you believe it? that shoemaker got up and walked inside his shop and took down a box from the top shelf, and there inside was a beautiful pair of red top boots, which fitted as if they had been made for her. well wasn't that the luckiest thing that could have happened? but perhaps it was just as lucky that she found money enough in her pocket to pay for them. pretty soon, not so very far, she came to a fountain where all day long the water played a soft little song: "over the pebbles and over the sand i run till i reach the sea-shore land, where the pink shells sing and the big waves roar, and the mermaids comb their hair on the shore." "i think i'll follow this pretty book," said mary louise, "and maybe it will take me home." she ran along its mossy banks until she came to the seashore. right there on the soft warm sand sat a mermaid combing her long hair. with a glad cry mary louise ran towards her. but it wasn't her friend the mermaid princess. no, she was a strange little mermaid, who gave a frightful scream and with a flop of her graceful tail, glided into the water. just as she was about to dive down out of sight, she saw her pretty pearl comb on the beach. "don't be afraid of me," said mary louise, picking it up and leaning over the water. "i know your princess mermaid--daughter of king seaphus," and she handed the little mermaid the pearly comb, who then swam away to her island of coral and pearl. "heigh ho," sighed little mary louise, "here i am by the sad sea waves with nobody to talk to," and as she had nothing to do, she dug a hole in the sand and thrusting in both her feet, covered them up. all of a sudden a tremendous crab crawled up and before she could run away, fastened his great claw in her sleeve. "oh i am king of the blue sea crabs, and king of the sandy shore, and i can fight as well as bite with my big tre-men-dous claw. oh, i can pinch as well as a clam, i'm king of all pinchers, you bet i am." now little mary louise was a brave girl, and unclasping her breastpin, she stuck the point right in the wrist of the crab king's claw, after which he began to sing a different kind of song, and the tears came out of his eyes, and pretty soon he begged to be let alone. "i'll give you the most beautiful pearl in all the world," he said, but mary louise only laughed and pointed to her torn sleeve: "that won't mend my sleeve, king crab. what right had you to tear it?" "oh, please take the pin out of my elbow," begged the tearful crab king, so frightened that he couldn't tell whether it was his wrist or his elbow that mary louise was pricking. "i'll give you two pearls. oh, please pull out your pin." as soon as she had put away her breastpin, the crab king started to dig in the sand and pretty soon he brought up two lovely pearls. "but what am i to do with my torn sleeve?" asked mary louise, for she was still angry with that disagreeable old crab. without answering, the king of the crabs crawled off into the tall sea grass and in a few minutes came back with a little package done up in sea weed, and after he had unwrapped it, what do you suppose mary louise saw? why, a beautiful pale sea green coat made of sea silk. it was very beautiful and looked just like the shimmery green of the waves. "here is a coat of the great crab king, it's finer than silk or anything, for none but a merman has ever worn a coat so beautifully shimmery shorn," cried the king crab, handing it to mary louise. then he crawled away, for he wised to have the doctor see his wounded elbow, i imagine. candy city just then a little bird began to sing: "in the valley, green and neat, i see the print of little feet, and way, way yonder in the glen i see a host of little men." "dear me!" sighed mary louise. "i am too tired to walk any further." "jump on my back!" cried a happy voice, and up trotted a little pony named dapple gray. "oh, how nice," laughed mary louise, and climbing up on the saddle, rode off on this pretty little pony, and pretty soon, not so very far, they came to the place where the little men were at work. and what do you suppose they were doing. why, you'd never guess if i gave you until the 4th of july. they were making maple sugar out of the sap from the maple trees. first they boiled the sap in great big pots and then put it away to cool in queer little dishes of various shapes, and when the sugar hardened it was in the forms of funny little fish, queer little houses, strange animals, and, goodness knows, what not. "oh, we are the sugar candy men, and we work all day in the snow to make the maple sugar cakes to sell in the town below," sang one little man who wore a red peaked hat and long turned-up pointed shoes. but when little mary louise rode up, they all stopped their work and looked at her, and the little man with the long turned up pointed shoes pulled off his red peaked cap and asked: "what brings you here, mary louise? are you fond of maple sugar candy?" "i know lots of little boys and girls who are," answered mary louise with a smile. "well, hold open your pockets," said the little man, and he stood up on a stump alongside dapple gray and filled her pockets to overflowing. wasn't that nice of him? "you're very generous," said mary louise. "what can i do for you?" "go to yonder town and tell the dear old lady who keeps the 'goody sweet tooth-shop' that we will bring her candy tomorrow morning just as- "the little red rooster from his home on the hill sounds his merry cock-a-doo like a whistle shrill." "all right," answered mary louise, and off she went to the little town down in the valley. well, by and by, after a while, and many a mile, and a song and a smile, for mary louise felt very happy with all those nice candies in her pocket, she came to a bridge over a river, on the other side of which nestled a little town among the trees. now there was a toll keeper, a funny little old lady with a crutch under her arm, at the entrance to the bridge. "give me a penny, mary louise, for that is the toll you must pay, if you would cross over the river to dover, dover, just over the way." sang the little old lady toll keeper. "here is the penny," laughed mary louise, leaning down from dapple gray and dropping it into the old lady's apron, which she help up in both hands. "pass on, little girl," she said, opening the gate, and in a few minutes dapple gray was clattering over the bridge. and pretty soon he drew up before the goody sweet tooth shop. "i bring you good news from the little men of the glen," cried mary louise to the little old woman who just then looked out of the door. "what is the news, dearie?" she asked, shading her eyes with her withered hand. "tomorrow morning, just at dawn, when the little red rooster blows on his horn, the maple sugar candy hearts, cute little cupids and candy darts, in a great big box will be laid at your door to give to the children who come to your store." said little mary louise. and how she ever could have spoken in poetry is more than i can tell, but perhaps the fairy maple sugar candy, which she had eaten on her way to town, had lent magic to her tongue. then the little old woman made a curtsy, and mary louise continued on her way, and by and by, after a while, she came to a great big bear sitting on a stone by the roadside. on the ground by his side was a big bundle tied with a thick leather strap. well, as soon as the bear saw mary louise, he took off his cap and said, "i wish i had a pony, either brown or gray, so i could ride whate'er betide for many miles away." "why, what's the matter?" asked little mary louise. "i have a splinter in my foot," answered the bear. so mary louise dismounted and looked at the bear's foot, and when she found the splinter, she said: "now don't you cry, and don't you pout, and i will pull the splinter out." and would you believe it, in less than five hundred short seconds, she held the splinter under the bear's nose so he could see it, for the bear was very near sighted and couldn't even see the end of his toes. "dear me," sighed little mary louise, "i wish i were safe at home with mother," she set out once more, and by and by she came to candy town. now i guess many a little boy and girl wonders where all the christmas candies come from, but they wouldn't if they had once seen peppermint city, all painted white with red stripes, just like a stick of peppermint candy. each house was built of white candy with columns of peppermint sticks supporting the roof. on either side the door stood lovely peppermint statues and striped pillars held up the little porches and big piazzas. the opera house was guarded by a candy lion, and a fountain in the middle of the town spouted maple syrup. rock candy crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings in the rich man's house and little peppermint candlesticks made light for the workman's hut. even the lamp posts on the corners were peppermint sticks and so were the barber poles. "goodness me," said mary louise to herself, "i wonder what would happen if it rained." but you see it never rained in candy country, which was mighty lucky. "what do you wish?" asked a chocolate man, as she knocked on the candy town gate. the next moment the gate swung open and out marched a regiment of lemon soldiers dressed in lemon khaki uniforms. "oh, i'm just lost," replied mary louise with a sigh. "i'm a little traveler who goes for miles and miles upon her toes. but sometimes when i'm tired out i think i hear a kind of voice shout, 'come, ride with me upon my goose,' and other times it is a moose, and then again a steed with wings; or maybe some kind stranger brings a ship that sails the ocean wide, and so instead of walk, i ride." "well, well, your a little poetry maker," said the chocolate man. "now you are the very person to write pretty little verses on our round peppermint candies." and then he held out his chocolate hand and drew tired mary louise inside the gate, after which he locked it with a silver key. "come with me to our candy factory," and he ran down the street, which was paved with little red brick candies, until he came to a big rock candy building. "look here," gasped mary louise, all out of breath with running, for that chocolate man was the best athlete in all peppermint city, "i said i was lost. i'm not a poetry maker. i wouldn't make poetry for anything. i want to see things, not dream about them!" "dear me," said the chocolate man, and he let go the lollypop door handle, "i'm sorry. i thought you'd like to stay here." "don't feel badly about it," said mary louise as he shook hands and said good-by. "i must find my way home. i've no time to lose." "heigh ho, this is a big river," she exclaimed a little later as she stood on the bank of a swiftly flowing stream. "there isn't any bridge, how can you get across, there isn't any boat and you haven't any horse that could swim across this river with you upon its back, so i guess you'll have to turn about and go back upon your track," sang a cross voice. "she won't have to do anything of the sort," answered a kind voice and a little white duck in a boat rowed up to the bank. "come, jump aboard," quacked commodore drake, for that was the name of this duck sailor. mary louise jumped in and away they went down the river to the deep blue sea. and after a while, maybe a mile, and perhaps a little more, they came to the restless ocean. "now," said the duck, with a wheezy, breezy quack, "i'll take you to the hotel wave crest." presently they came to an island where a lovely coral building shone pinky bright in the rays of the sun. right in front of it were two bell buoys who rang little bells to tell the man who owned the hotel that somebody wanted a room with a fresh salt water bath. as soon as commodore drake had fastened the little boat to the wharf, he and mary louise walked up the steps and into wave crest hotel. when the proprietor, a nice old dolphin, saw mary louise's lovely sea green coat, he at once asked where she had bought it. "the king of the crabs gave it to me." "you don't tell me," exclaimed the old dolphin. "do you know that coat is a magic one?" "what can it do?" asked mary louise, even more surprised than you are. "why, anybody who wears it can swim like a fish," answered the good-natured dolphin. "it's better than a pair of water wings," and he turned over three times and began to sing, "oh, many a mile i've swum in the sea like a hoop that rolls on the ground, over and over and over again, round and around and around, but i always come right side up at last, out in the deep blue sea, you bet i can do the loop de loo high diddle diddledy dee." as he finished speaking, the good-natured dolphin turned a somersault, and after that i guess he thought he'd done enough to amuse mary louise, and the little white sailor duck, so he went inside the hotel and stood at the desk behind the big register book. just then a great whale came swimming by, blowing a stream of water high in the air. maybe a piece of seaweed had tickled his nose, for when a whale spouts he's really sneezing, i'm told. and after that a pretty cat fish began to purr, and i guess she would have asked mary louise a lot of questions if all of a sudden a dog fish hadn't barked, which so frightened the pussy cat fish that she went into her room and locked the door, dropping the kin in her vanity bag which she hid under her pillow. "if you'll stay awhile," said the old dolphin, "i'll give you the finest fish dinner you ever ate, "a whale fish steak, and some sea gull eggs, and a pint of sea cow's milk, green sea weed sauce and water cress and oysters served on silk." but, would you believe it, little mary louise didn't feel hungry. instead she asked the duck sailor to take her back to the boat and to sail away, over the ocean's misty spray, until they should come to the land of nod where sleep is sent by the little dream god. as soon as she and the little white duck reached this wonderful little land, they became sleepy and their eyes winked and blinked and pretty soon they both lay down on the soft grass and went sound to sleep. and then the twinkle, twinkle star shone down with its pretty golden eye and sang a sleepy lullaby, "over the ocean cool and sweet up to the sea grass's waving feet blows the wind from the rainbow west whispering low, 'it is time for rest.'" toy land now, when mary louise and the little white sailor duck woke up in the land of nod, they both rubbed their eyes to make sure who stood there dressed in pink pajamas and little starry crown. it was the little dream god. in his hand he carried a silver wand, in the handle of which was a little whistle which made a soft sound when he blew upon it. "did you have a good sleep?" he asked, and with a laugh, he took off his crown and sat down on the grass. and oh, what a sweet laugh it was. just like the tinkle of a far-away bell or the ripple of a little brook. well, after a little talk, the big dream bird came out of his wicker cage and said: "i'm going to take mary louise for a ride," and away he flew, while the little white sailor duck went back to his boat and sailed away, too, over the ocean big and blue. "where would you like to go?" asked the dream bird. "i'm the bird who brings dreams to people. dreams of doing great big wonderful things, you know. not sleepy dreams." "take me to some place that is different from anything i've ever seen," answered mary louise. so the big dream bird scratched his head with his foot, but for a long time he couldn't tell where to go. well, anyway, by and by, not so very long, for the big dream bird kept flying on as he scratched his head with his foot, they came to toy land where all the toys of the world are made by little dwarfs and fairies. "now i'll leave you," said the big dream bird, and he flew away, leaving little mary louise in front of a pretty shop full of little jack rabbits, and, would you believe it, there was a toy puss in boots, junior, with red top boots and a hat with a gold feather and a sword. and the workman who made these toys was a funny little dwarf with a green suit and a red cap and a long white beard. "this is the land of wonderful toys that are made for good little girls and boys, talking dolls and horses that run, everything here is made for fun, but only good little girls and boys can have our wonderful, beautiful toys." "heigh ho," said mary louise, "what next, i wonder," and she looked at a toy regiment of wooden soldiers marching down the street. just then an old hand organ began to play, "oh, where are the songs of yesterday, and the songs we used to sing, when you and i in the days gone by danced in the fairy's ring?" and up ran a little monkey dressed in a red coat and cap. mary louise gave him a penny, to hand to the old man who had stopped to set another tune to the organ. "over the hills and far away, i've tramped all my life till i am gray, and now with my organ and monkey clown i find myself in little toy town," sang the old organ grinder as he sat down to rest with the little monkey on his lap. "are you very tired?" asked mary louise. "pretty tired," answered the old man. "all these years i've tramped and played, and now i find myself in a town where they make toys for children. but i see no children. only playthings which i have no use for," and the old man sighed and patted the monkey and then he closed his eyes and fell asleep. and i guess he was very, very tired. then mary louise slipped away, out of toy town where the dwarfs and the fairies made all the toys in little workshops, only they had the shades pulled down so that nobody could see them, for they are queer little people and don't like to be watched. "oh, dear," sighed mary louise, "i wish i were home. mother will be dreadfully worried about me. "oh, if i had a wishing stone i know what i would do i'd wish for lots of lovely things, and give a lot to you. but, oh, dear me. i've never known where is this wonder wishing stone." "i know," cried a little voice, and then, of course, mary louise looked all around to see who had spoken, but she couldn't see anybody. "who are you?" she asked, halting dapple gray on the edge of a big forest. "here i am," cried the same little voice, and then, quick as a wink, a tiny fairy jumped out from behind a bush. "don't frighten my pony," said mary louise, as dapple gray stood up straight on his hind legs, "he isn't used to fairies." "no, indeed," whinnied the pony, for that is the way a horse talks, you know. "i've met lots of people in dear old mother goose land, but never a fairy." "if you come into this forest you will meet many little people like me," answered the fairy. "will they object if i travel through it?" asked little mary louise anxiously. "you see, i'm on my way home." "you have my permission," answered the fairy. "i'm queen of the forest fays. but i thought you were looking for the wishing stone?" "maybe i was," answered mary louise. "you see, i thought if i could find it, i'd wish i was home with my dear mother." "it is not very far from here," said the little fairy. "follow this path through the trees and by and by you'll come to it. but let me give you some advice. be sure before you make your wish to say, "rose red, rose white, i will try to do what's right." "thank you, i'll remember," answered little mary louise, and she turned dapple gray down the path to the woody glen. well, by and by, after a while, she saw a big white stone. it looked very like a rude stone chair, only of course, it didn't have any nice soft cushion in it like the one my grandmother used. with a cry of joy little mary louise jumped from the saddle. "now i'll make my wish!" and she sat down in the big stone chair and closed her eyes. but, oh dear me. she had been in such a hurry that she forgot to say the little fairy verse and when she opened her eyes, there she was in the very same spot. and, oh, dear me! again. instead of the dapple gray, a little gray squirrel stood in the very spot where the little pony had been. "if you would have what you would wish you must obey each rule, no matter whether in your home or in your grammar school," sang a little yellow bird, as mary louise stared in amazement at the little gray squirrel. "oh, dear me," she sighed, "where is dapple gray?" "i was your little pony, and my name was dapple gray. but now i am a squirrel because you did not say; 'rose red, rose white, i will try to do what's right,'" answered the little squirrel. and then mary louise remembered what the little fairy had told her to say when she made the wish. oh, dear me. how sad she felt! but it was too late, and pretty soon the little squirrel ran away, and poor mary louise was left alone in the big wishing stone chair. "oh dear me," she sighed again, "now what shall i do?" but nobody answered, not even the little yellow bird, so she jumped down and started off through the wood, and by and by, after a mile, but never a smile, she heard somebody laughing. and, oh my, it was a great big, tremendous hearty laugh. why, it made all the leaves tremble and the dry twigs fall to the ground. and then, all of a sudden, a giant walked by, carrying on his big finger the prettiest yellow bird you ever saw. "why bless my big leather belt," he exclaimed, "it's little mary louise." "oh, mr. giant," said mary louise, "i've disobeyed the fairy queen and lost my pony dapple gray." "bless my big hob-nailed club," said mr. merry laugh, for this was the giant's name, "how did you come to do that?" so mary louise told him how the fairy queen had directed her to the wishing stone, but that she had forgotten to say when making her wish, "rose red, rose white, i will try to do what's right." "well, i'll give you another chance," said the big kind giant. "now let me see," and he took off his big leather cap and scratched his head, and then he whispered something to the little yellow bird, but his whisper was so loud that of course mary louise heard it, for when a giant whispers it sounds like a man shouting, so i've been told. "come with me," said the giant after the little yellow bird had nodded her head, and pretty soon, not so very long, they came to his castle, where the giant made mary louise very comfortable in a little chair which had once belonged to his son. "now you rest here while i go and get out my big gold book," said mr. merry laugh. "mr. merry laugh, the giant, has a big gold book, bound with leather hinges and a big brass hook," sang the little yellow bird. "now let me see," said the good, kind giant, opening the book and turning over the pages with his great immense thumb. "ah, here it is," but before he began to read he took off his spectacles which were as big as automobile lamps and wiped them carefully on his red silk handkerchief which was bigger than a sail. "whoever disobeys the queen can for his guilt atone by making a little whistle out of a turkey's bone." "ha, ha, ha!" roared the giant till the crystal chandelier tinkled like a million little bells and the portrait of his mother-in-law fell off the wall with a dreadful crash, "i never heard anything so funny before," and he picked up the portrait and laughed again, only this time even louder, for his mother-in-law's picture was all smashed to smithereens! "well, that's easy," he said after wiping his eyes. "tomorrow will be thanksgiving and you shall dine with me. and after dinner i'll give you a magic knife and if you can't make a whistle out of the drumstick bone, i'll have another portrait made of my mother-in-law." "that's very good of you," said little mary louise. "don't mention it," replied the giant. "i have a book that once belonged to my boy when he was a little fellow. it's called the iceberg express, and you look so like the little girl on the cover that i'd almost believe you were she." "i am, i am," shouted mary louise, jumping out of her chair. "and that's the reason i wanted to sit in the big wishing stone chair. i was going to wish i was home with mother." "you don't say so," exclaimed mr. merry laugh. "well, well, well. it takes me back to the time when my boy was a little fellow and sat on my knee to hear me read little journeys to happyland. how time flies!" and the big kind giant took his pocket handkerchief out again to wipe his blue eyes, and after that he went over to the piano and sang: "if i had my little boy again how happy i should be, i'd piggy-back him all around and trundle him on my knee. "but oh, dear me. it's so long ago, and he's been away so long, that all i can do is to wish and wish that he could hear this song." "dear me," said little mary louise, when the giant had finished. "you want your little boy and i want my mother." well pretty soon when mary louise walked into the dining room she saw the most wonderful turkey that ever graced a thanksgiving table. why, it weighed upty'leven pounds and was stuffed with a bushel of chestnuts. "now eat slowly and tuck your napkin under your chin," said mr. merry laugh, "for we don't have thanksgiving every day, although we ought to be thankful every day, just the same." and he stuck in the fork which was as big as a pitch-fork and began to carve with a knife that was even larger than general pershing's sword. well, after a while, a mince pie was brought in, so large that it would have taken mary louise thirteen minutes to walk around it if the giant had placed it on the floor. but of course he didn't. no sireemam. he first cut a little piece for her and then a great big tremendous piece for himself, and would you believe he ate two pieces while she was eating one! at last, when the dinner was over, and the giant had dried the wish bone on the steam heater till it was nice and dry, he handed little mary louise the magic knife and told her to make it into a whistle. and would you believe it if i didn't say so, in less than five hundred short seconds she had carved out the prettiest little whistle you ever saw. "now, little girl," said mr. merry laugh, "blow on it and make a wish. but don't make the same wish you did before." "oh dear me," sighed the little girl. "i only wish one thing, and that is to be home with mother." "get your pony back and i'll help you," said mr. merry laugh kindly. so mary louise blew on her whistle and made a wish, when, all of a sudden, quicker than a wink, they heard a neigh in the courtyard, and looking out of the window, saw dapple gray. "here, take this little ring," said the giant, "and if ever you are in trouble, turn it around your finger three times and a half." just then the little yellow bird began to sing: "'tis a little golden ring, such a tiny, pretty thing. but be careful lest you lose it, for you may have need to use it, it possesses such a charm it will keep you from all harm." "good luck," said mr. merry laugh as he opened the castle door. "good-by and good luck. drop in the next time you're in town, and don't forget castle merry laugh, forest city, u.s.a." "thank you," answered mary louise. just then down flew the beautiful dream bird. "i'll take you home," he said. "climb up between my wings!" then away he went through the air so softly that maybe the little girl fell asleep, for when she woke up, there she was on the beach where she had first met the little mermaid princess. "oh, oh," yawned mary louise, "am i really here?" but nobody answered, so she jumped to her feet and ran home to her mother. well, well, have we come to the end of the story, you and i, little reader? i'm sorry i've nothing more to tell you in this book, but listen--lean over to me and listen--i've written another book for the "little journeys to happyland" series--it is called "the wind wagon." isn't that a strange title? but i know you'll like it--yes, i'm sure you will. so don't forget. it will be published next year. yours for a story, david cory. http://www.archive.org/details/flowerprincess00brow the flower princess * * * * * by abbie farwell brown the flower princess. illustrated. sq. 12mo, $1.00. the curious book of birds. illustrated. square 12mo, $1.10, _net_. postpaid, $1.21. a pocketful of posies. illustrated. 12mo, $1.00, _net_. postpaid, $1.09. in the days of giants. illustrated. 12mo, $1.10, _net_. postpaid, $1.21. _school edition_, 50 cents, _net_, postpaid. the book of saints and friendly beasts. illustrated, 12mo, $1.25. the lonesomest doll. illustrated. sq. 12mo, 85 cents, _net_. postpaid, 95 cents. houghton, mifflin & co. boston and new york * * * * * the flower princess [illustration: let him prove it] [illustration] the flower princess by abbie·farwell brown boston and new york houghton mifflin and company the riverside press cambridge 1904 copyright 1904 by abbie farwell brown all rights reserved published september, 1904 _oh, give me for a little space to see with childlike eyes this curious world, our dwelling-place of wonder and surprise. . . ._ _the long, long road from day to night winds on through constant change, whereon one hazards with delight adventures new and strange;_ _the wonders of the earth and sky! the magic of the sea! the mysteries of beast and fly, of bird and flower and tree!_ _one feels the breath of holy things unseen along the road, the whispering of angel wings, the neighboring of good._ _and beauty must be good and true, one battles for her sake; but wickedness is foul to view, so one cannot mistake. . . ._ _ah, give me with the childlike sight the simple tongue and clear wherewith to read the vision right unto a childish ear._ acknowledgments are due the publishers of _the churchman_ for permission to reprint "the flower princess" and "the little friend;" also to the _brown book_ of boston for permission to use "the ten blowers," which first appeared in that magazine. contents the flower princess 1 the little friend 45 the mermaid's child 67 the ten blowers 103 list of illustrations let him prove it (page 31) _frontispiece_ the princess fleurette 10 until she clapped her hands for joy 18 until help comes 56 you will bring him back to me? 86 one more blow for our king 124 the flower princess i once upon a time there was a beautiful princess named fleurette, who lived in a white marble palace on the top of a high hill. the princess fleurette was very fond of flowers, and all around the palace, from the very gates thereof, a fair garden, full of all kinds of wonderful plants, sloped down to the foot of the hill, where it was snugly inclosed with a high marble wall. thus the hill was like a great nosegay rising up in the midst of the land, sending out sweet odors to perfume the air for miles, bright with color in the sunshine, and musical with the chorus of birds and the hum of millions of bees. one part of the garden was laid out in walks and avenues, with little vine-clad bowers here and there, where the princess could sit and read, or lie and dream. there were fountains and statues among the trees, and everything grand and stately to make a garden beautiful. another part of the garden was left wild and tangled, like a forest. here all the shyest flowers grew in their own wild way; and here ran a little brook, gurgling over the pebbles in a race to the foot of the hill. there never was seen a more complete and beautiful garden than this of the princess fleurette. now the fame of the princess's beauty, like the fragrance of her garden, had been wafted a long way, and many persons came to prove it. a continual procession of princes from lands near and far traveled the long road that wound from the foot of the hill up and up and up to the entrance of the palace. they came upon their noble steeds, with gold and jeweled harness most gorgeous to see, riding curiously up amid the flowers, whose perfume filled their hearts with happiness and hope. the further they rode the more they longed to tarry forever in this fair place. and when each one at last dismounted at the palace gate, and, going into the great hall, saw the princess herself, more fair than any flower, sitting on her golden throne, he invariably fell upon his knees without delay, and begged her to let him be her very ownest prince. but the princess always smiled mischievously and shook her head, saying,-"i have no mind to exchange hearts, save with him who can find mine, where it is hidden among my flowers. guess me my favorite flower, dear prince, and i am yours." this she said to every prince in turn. she did not greatly care to have any prince for her very ownest own, for she was happy enough among her flowers without one. but the prince, whoever he might be, when he heard her strange words, would go out eagerly into the garden and wander, wander long among the flowers, searching to find the sweetest and most beautiful, which must be his lady's favorite. and, of course, he selected his own favorite, whatever that was. it might be that he would choose a great, wonderful rose. at the proper time he would kneel and present it to the princess, saying confidently,-"o fair princess, surely i have found the flower of your heart. see the beautiful rose! give it then to me to wear always, as your very ownest prince." but the princess, glancing at the rose, would shake her head and say,-"nay! i love the roses, too. but my heart is not there, o prince. you are not to be my lord, or you would have chosen better." then she would retire into her chamber, to be no more seen while that prince remained in the palace. presently he would depart, riding sorrowfully down the hill on his gorgeous steed, amid the laughing flowers. and the princess would be left to enjoy her garden in peace until the next prince should arrive. it might be that this one would guess the glorious nodding poppy to be his lady's choice. but he would be no nearer than the other. a later comer would perhaps choose a gay tulip; another a fair and quiet lily; still another earnest soul would select the passion-flower, noble and mysterious. but at all of these the princess shook her head and denied them. there had never yet come a prince to the hill who found her heart's true flower. and the princess lived on among her posies, very happy and very content, growing fairer and fairer, sweeter and sweeter, with their bloom upon her cheek and their fragrance in her breath. there never was seen a more beautiful princess than fleurette. now the princess loved to rise very early in the morning, before any of her people were awake, and to steal down by a secret staircase into the garden while it was yet bright with dew and newly wakened happiness. she loved to put on a gown of coarse green stuff, wherein she herself looked like a dainty pink and white flower in its sheath, and with a little trowel to dig in the fragrant mould at the roots of her plants, or train the vines with her slender fingers. no one suspected that she did this, and she would not have had them suspect it for the world. for if the palace people had known, they would have followed and annoyed her with attentions and suggestions. they would have brought her gloves to protect her pretty hands, and a veil, and parasol, and a rug upon which to kneel--if kneel she must--while weeding the flower-beds. indeed, they would scarcely have allowed her to do anything at all. for were there not gardeners to attend to all this; and why should she bother herself to do anything but enjoy the blossoms when they were picked for her? they did not know, poor things, that the greatest joy in a flower is to watch and help it grow from a funny little seed into a leaf, then a tall green stalk, then a waking bud, until finally it keeps the promise of its first sprouting, and becomes a blossom. they did not guess that the happiest hours of the princess's life were those which she spent in the early morning tending her flower-babies, while her fond courtiers, and even the curious princes on their way to woo her, were still wasting the best part of the day on lazy pillows. many a time the gardener declared that a fairy must tend the royal flowers, so wonderfully did they flourish, free from weed or worm or withering leaf. it even seemed to him sometimes that he could trace a delicate perfumed touch which had blessed their leaves before his coming. when he told this to fleurette she only smiled sweetly at him. but in her heart she laughed; for she was a merry princess. one beautiful morning the princess arose as usual, soon after sunrise, and, putting on her green flower-gown, stole down the secret staircase into the garden. there it lay, all fresh and wonderful, sparkling with diamond dewdrops. the princess fleurette walked up and down the paths, smiling at the blossoms, which held up their pretty faces and seemed to smile back at her, as if she were another flower. sometimes she kneeled down on her royal knees in the gravel, bending over to kiss the flowers with her red lips. sometimes she paused to punish a greedy worm, or a rude weed which had crowded in among the precious roots. sometimes with her little golden scissors she snipped off a withered leaf or a faded flower of yesterday. up and down the paths she passed, singing happily under her breath, but seldom plucking a flower; for she loved best to see them growing on their green stalks. [illustration: the princess fleurette] she came at last to a little summer-house, up which climbed morning-glories, blue and pink and white--fairy flowers of early morning, which few of her people ever saw, because they rose so late. for by the time those lazy folk were abroad, the best part of the day was spent; and the little morning-glories, having lived it happily, were ready for their rest. they drowsed and nodded and curled up tight into a long sleep, in which they missed nothing at all of the later day. when fleurette spied the morning-glories she clapped her little hands, and, running up to the arbor, danced about on her tiptoes, whispering,-"good-morning, little dears! good-morning, my beautiful ones. how fresh and sweet and fair you are!" and, plucking a single blossom, a cup of the frailest pink, she placed it in her yellow hair, her only ornament. then she danced toward the little arbor, for it was her favorite early-morning bower. but when she came to the door, instead of entering, she started back with a scream. for through the morning-glory vines two bright eyes were peering at her. "peek-a-boo!" said a merry voice. and out stepped a lad with a smiling, handsome face. he was dressed all in green. by his side hung a sword, and over his shoulder he bore a little lute, such as minstrels use. "good-morning, merry maiden," he said, doffing his cap and bowing very low. "you, too, love flowers in the early morning. we have good taste, we two, alone of all this place, it seems." "you are not of this place. how came you here?" asked the princess, stepping back and frowning somewhat. "do you not know that this is the garden of a princess, who allows no one to visit it between dusk and the third hour after sunrise?" "ah!" cried the youth, with a merry laugh. "that i learned yesterday down below there in the village. and a foolish law it is. if the princess knows no better than to forbid the sight of her garden when it is most beautiful, then the princess deserves to be disobeyed. and for that matter, pretty maiden, are not you, too, a trespasser at this early hour? aha! oho!" the lad laughed, teasingly, shaking his finger at her. the princess bit her lip to keep from laughing. but she said as sternly as she could: "you are rude, sir greencoat. i am one of the best friends the princess has. she allows me to come here at this hour, alone of all the world." "ah, share the right with me, dear maiden, share it with me!" exclaimed the stranger. "let me play with you here in the garden early in the morning. do not tell her of my fault; but let me repeat it again, and yet again, while i remain in this land." the princess hesitated, then answered him with a question. "you are then of another country? you are soon to go away?" "yes, i am of a far country. my name is joyeuse, and i am a merry fellow,--a traveler, a minstrel, a swordsman, an herb-gatherer. i have earned my bread in many ways. i was passing through this country when the fragrance of this wondrous garden met my flower-loving nose, guiding me hither. ah, how beautiful it is! because i wished to see it at its best in early morning i stole through the gates at sundown, and spent the night in yonder little arbor. i have been wandering ever since among the flowers, until i heard your voice singing. then i stole back here to hide, for i was too happy to risk being discovered and sent away." "you are a bold, bad fellow, joyeuse," said fleurette, laughing; "and i have a mind to tell the princess about you and your wanderings." "would she be so very angry?" asked the stranger. "i will not pluck a single bud. i love them all too dearly, just as you do, dear maiden, for i have watched you. ay, i could almost tell which is your favorite flower--" "nay, that you cannot do," said the princess hastily. "no one knows that." "aha!" cried the lad. "you make a secret of it, even as does your mistress, the princess fleurette. i have heard how she will choose for her prince only him who finds the flower which holds her heart. i had thought one time to find that flower, and become her prince." "you!" cried the princess, starting with surprise. "ay, why not? i could fight for her, and defend her with my life, if need be. i could sing and play to make her merry. i could teach her many things to make her wise. i am skilled in herbs and lotions, and i could keep her people in health and happiness. moreover, i love flowers as well as she,--better, since i love them at their best in this early morning: even as you love them, fair maiden. i should not make so poor a prince for this garden. but now that i have seen you, little flower, i have no longing to be a prince. i would not win the princess if i might. for you must be fairer than she--as you are fairer even than the flowers, your sisters. ah, i have an idea! i believe that _you_ are that very flower, the fairest one, whereon the princess has set her heart. tell me, is it not so?" "indeed no!" cried the princess, turning very pink at his flattery. "how foolishly you speak! but i must hasten back to the palace, or we shall be discovered and some one will be punished." "and shall i see you among the maidens of the princess when i present myself before her?" asked joyeuse eagerly. "oh, you must not do that!" exclaimed fleurette. "you must not try to see the princess to-day. this is a bad time. perhaps to-morrow--" she hesitated. "but you will come again to the garden?" he begged. she shook her head. "no, not to-day, joyeuse." "then to-morrow you will come? promise that you will be here to-morrow morning early, to play with me for a little while?" he persisted. the princess laughed a silvery little laugh. "who knows whom you may find if you are in the garden again to-morrow morning early." and without another word she slipped away before joyeuse could tell which way she went. for she knew every turning of the paths and all the windings between the hedges, which were puzzling to strangers. ii the next morning at the same hour joyeuse was wandering through the paths of the garden, seeking his flower-maiden. he looked for her first near the arbor of morning-glories, but fleurette was not there. he had to search far and wide before he found her at last in quite another part of the garden, among the lilies. she wore a white lily in her yellow locks. "ah!" cried joyeuse, when he spied her, "it is a lily to-day. but yesterday i thought i guessed your favorite flower. now i find that i was wrong. surely, this is your choice. so fair, so pure,--a princess herself could choose no better." fleurette smiled brightly at him, shaking her hair from side to side in a golden shower. "one cannot so easily read my thoughts as he may suppose," she cried saucily. "dear maiden," said joyeuse, coming nearer and taking her hand, "i have no wonderful garden like this where i can invite you to dwell as its little princess. but come with me, and we will make a tiny one of our very own, where no one shall forbid us at any hour, and where we will play at being prince and princess, as happy as two butterflies." but fleurette shook her head and said: "no, i can never leave the garden and my princess. she could not live without me. i shall dwell here always and always, so long as the flowers and i are a-blooming." [illustration: until she clapped her hands for joy] "then i, too, must live here always and always!" declared joyeuse. "perhaps the princess will take me for her minstrel, or her soldier, or her man of medicine,--anything that will keep me near you, so that we can play together here in the garden. would that please you, little flower?" fleurette looked thoughtful. "i should be sorry to have you go," she said; "you love the flowers so dearly, it would be a pity." "yes, indeed i love them!" cried joyeuse. "let us then go to the princess and ask her to keep me in her service." the princess looked long at joyeuse, and at last she said: "how do i know what manner of minstrel you are? i cannot take you to her without some promise of your skill, for she is a princess who cares only for the best. come, let us go into the wilder part of the garden, where no one can hear us, and i will listen to your music." so they went into a wild part of the garden, and sat down under a tree beside the little brook. and there he played and sang for her such sweet and beautiful music that she clapped her hands for joy. and when he had finished he said,-"well, dear maiden, do you think i am worthy to be your lady's minstrel? have i the skill to make her happy?" "truly, joyeuse, you have made _me_ very happy, and you are a prince of minstrels," she answered. "yet--i cannot tell. that is not enough. but hark! i hear the chapel bell. i must hasten back to the palace. to-morrow i will come again and listen to another song. meanwhile do not try to see the princess." "i care not for the princess, i," he called after her, "so long as i may see you, little flower!" and for an answer her laughter came back to him over the flowers. so that day went by; and early the next morning joyeuse took his lute and sought the flower-maiden in the garden. this time he sought her long and long before he found her among the roses. there was a crimson rose in her hair, and one upon either cheek when she glanced up, hearing his footsteps on the grass. there was also a crimson spot upon her white hand. "see!" she cried, "a cruel thorn has pricked me. let me test your skill in herbs, sir doctor." with a sorry face, for it gave him pain to see her pain, joyeuse ran to find the leaf of a certain plant which he knew. presently he returned, and, taking a bit of linen from his scrip, tenderly bound the leaf about the poor wounded finger. "now will it be cured," he said. "this is a remedy which never fails." "how wise you are," murmured fleurette, "a very prince of doctors!" "say, may i not then hope to be the doctor of the princess?" he asked eagerly. but fleurette shook her head. "we must see how the finger is to-morrow morning. if it is quite healed then, perhaps-but hark! that is the gardener's whistle. it is late, and i must return to the palace, or he will find us trespassing." and away she ran, before joyeuse had time to say another word. now when the morrow arrived, joyeuse sought fleurette in the garden, long and long. but at last he found her among the lavender. her finger indeed was healed, so that she smiled upon him, and she said,-"now you shall teach me to play the lute. the princess, i know, would fain master the lute. but i must see first what sort of teacher you make before i take you to her." so they sat down beside a marble fountain in the fairest part of the garden; and there joyeuse taught her how to pluck the lute and to make sweet music. he taught her so well, and they passed the time so pleasantly, that they forgot how the hours were flying. "joyeuse, you are the very prince of teachers!" said fleurette. at that moment a shadow fell upon the grass beside them, and lo! there stood the head gardener, who had heard the sound of the music, and had hurried to see who might be in the princess's garden at this forbidden hour. the princess gave a little cry, and without a word slipped away through an opening in the hedge that she knew, before the gardener had a chance to see her face. "huh!" grunted the gardener. "she has escaped, whoever she is. but we shall soon know her name. you shall tell us that and other things, you minstrel fellow." "that i will never tell you!" cried joyeuse. "huh! we shall see about that, too," retorted the gardener surlily. "you shall not escape, sirrah. i will take you to my lady the princess, and you will have a chance to explain how you came to be here playing the lute in her garden at a forbidden hour. come along!" and he advanced to seize joyeuse by the collar. he was a huge, burly fellow, almost a giant in size. but joyeuse laid his hand on his sword and said: "keep back, gardener, and do not attempt to lay hands on me! i promise to follow wherever you may lead, but you shall not touch me to make me prisoner." "huh! a valiant minstrel!" sneered the gardener. but he looked twice at the stranger's flashing eyes and at his strong right arm, and decided to accept his promise. at once he led the way through the winding paths of the garden until they came to the palace gate. now joyeuse was shut into a dark dungeon to wait the hour when the princess was wont to hold council, to listen to the prayers of her suitors and the wishes of her people. poor joyeuse! "this is the end of my happy time," he said to himself. "the princess will now dismiss me, if she does no worse. she will have no charity for a trespasser in her garden, of which she is so jealous. i may not tell her how her fair maiden met me there and urged me to remain. i cannot tell; for that might bring trouble upon the flower-maiden, whom, alas, i may never see again!" so he mused, wondering wistfully that she should have left him without a word. but there was no blame for her in his heart; he loved her so very dearly. iii it was afternoon when the gardener opened the cell of joyeuse and bade him follow to the great hall of the palace where the princess would hear his crime and appoint his punishment. with a heavy heart he followed down the white marble corridors on the heels of the giant gardener, who muttered to himself as they went. now and then he would turn to look at joyeuse and shake his head, as though foreseeing for him some dreadful punishment. at last they came to a great hall, carpeted with green and ceiled with blue, while the walls were of rosy pink. at the further end of the hall was a throne of gold; and upon it sat the princess fleurette. but joyeuse dared not lift his eyes to look at her. he walked slowly down the hall after the gardener, and they took their stand near the throne, but behind the first rank of people. these were the gayly dressed attendants upon a great prince, who had come that day to woo the princess. even at that moment the herald was calling out his name and titles--"fortemain, prince of kalabria, knight of the silver feather, captain of a hundred spears!" the prince fortemain himself bowed before the throne, while his attendants stood behind him, bearing most wonderful gifts for the royal lady. there were caskets of jewels, pieces of rich silks and ermine fur, singing birds in cages, little monkeys, and other curious pets from far lands. there were never finer presents than those which the prince fortemain brought to the princess fleurette. a chorus of "ohs!" went up from the maids of honor when they saw the richness of these gifts. but joyeuse dared not even look up to see if his flower-maiden were among the white-robed band. he feared to betray her to the fierce eyes of the gardener, who was watching him closely. the prince fortemain made his speech very prettily, offering the princess his heart and hand, and all his riches, as well as his kingdom beyond the seas, to which he hoped to carry her. then the princess spoke in answer, very gently. and the sound of her voice was like music in the hall. "i have no wish to leave my own little kingdom of flowers," she said. "i am happy and contented here. i have no wish to exchange hearts, save with him who understands mine well. let him find it where it is already bestowed, among my flowers. choose my favorite flower, dear prince, and i am yours." at the sound of her voice joyeuse started, and for the first time looked up. there she sat upon the golden throne,--his own dear flower-maiden, she who had met him for three mornings in the garden! but now she wore no coarse gown of green. she was robed all in white, from her head to her little feet, which were shod with gold. a golden girdle she wore, and a golden band confined her golden hair. she glanced at joyeuse as she spoke the last words to the prince, and joyeuse was sure that her eyes twinkled. instantly a bold thought came into his head, for he was a bold fellow. he had been brought to her as a trespasser, ready for punishment. he would remain as a suitor! this princess was his little playmate; he could not, would not lose her. had she not thrice called him a prince? he would woo her, then, like any prince. but now the princess was speaking again, and this time she looked straight at him. "whom have we here, good gardener?" she asked, trying to force a little frown. "a trespasser, your highness," answered the gardener, in his gruff voice, hustling joyeuse to the foot of the throne, "a trespasser whom i found in your royal garden this morning at a disgustingly early hour, sitting with a fair maiden among the lavender, strumming on a lute. i saw not the face of the girl, but i fancy she must be one of your own maids of honor. she also should be punished for listening to the music of the wicked youth." a little cry of horror arose from the gay group about the princess, as they looked at one another, wondering who the shocking early-riser could be. the princess looked sharply at joyeuse and said: "tell us the name of the maiden, sirrah, and you shall be pardoned of your grievous fault." joyeuse looked up at the princess and said gently: "lady, i will tell her name to you, and to you alone, if you ask it; though i think that you guess it already. but first, i pray you, hear my suit. for i also have come hither as a suitor." at these words the princess started, and her cheek flushed. the gardener seized joyeuse by the arm to drag him away. but fleurette made a sign for him to stand back. "let the stranger speak," she said, "and let him show, if he can, why, instead of being punished, he should be welcomed as one of our suitors." then joyeuse knelt on the lowest step of the throne and laid at his maiden's feet his sword and his lute and the scrip, or little pocket, which he wore at his side. "fair princess," he said, "i come with scanty gifts and with no attendants--poor and alone. but all that i have i offer you; my sword for your protection, my music for your joy, my little learning for your aid in sickness and in health. to atone for my boldness in forcing your garden gate i offer the service of all these for as long as you will have them. and withal i offer my merry heart, as true and faithful as that of any prince in the world; but more loving than any." at this saying the prince fortemain pushed forward indignantly. "you shall not listen to these idle words, o princess!" he cried. "this fellow has no right to speak thus to you. he is no prince; he is but a wandering minstrel and vagabond. let him be flogged from the gates." "ay, let him be flogged away!" echoed the gardener and others, and they jostled closer as if to seize him. but joyeuse still knelt at the feet of his flower-maiden, not at all afraid. the princess rose, and, stamping her little foot, angrily commanded her people to be quiet. then she spoke to joyeuse, and the anger was gone from her voice. "it is true you are no prince," she said. "what have you to say in reply to this prince's word?" "am i no prince?" he answered, looking her straight in the eyes. "the fairest princess in the world has thrice named me prince,--prince of minstrels, prince of doctors, prince of teachers. does not that make me a prince indeed?" there was a silence in the hall at this bold answer. then fleurette beckoned to her the wise man of the court, a wise man dressed all in black, with a long white beard and hair like silver thistledown. "o wise man, if a princess gave him these titles, is he indeed a prince?" she asked, and her voice was eager. the wise man thought for a little time, then nodded gravely thrice. "ay, my princess, so it is written in the book of true chivalry. if he has been so honored, he is in deed and in degree a prince." "nay!" cried the prince fortemain, "i say nay! she has not also named him the prince of courage. the book of true chivalry declares that he is no very prince who cannot do battle nobly for his lady's sake." "that will i gladly do," said joyeuse eagerly. "i can wield sword as well as any prince alive." the cheeks of the princess glowed brightly. "let him prove it, prince fortemain," she cried. "you shall punish him for his fault and for his boast if his words prove false. but if he bear himself the better man he shall be called a worthy suitor like yourself, and shall have an equal chance with you." fortemain grumbled and looked sulky, for he felt ashamed to fight with a wandering adventurer. but, since the princess so commanded, there was nothing for him but to obey. he drew his jeweled sword, and joyeuse lifted his plain one from where it lay on the step of the throne. the courtiers made a ring around the two, and the bout began. one--two! one--two! the bright blades flashed, and the two lads turned one about the other, seeking each the advantage. they were both skillful fencers; but the watchers soon saw that joyeuse was the better man. dextrously he thrust and warily he parried. at last, with a sudden jump and twist, he sent the weapon spinning from the hand of fortemain. away across the hall it flew; and, with red face and scowling brow, the prince was forced to seek it where it fell. "well done! well done!" cried the crowd, clapping their hands, forgetting the fault of joyeuse in the wonder of his bravery. and "well done!" cried fleurette. "i, a princess, name you in addition to your other titles the prince of courage. arise, prince joyeuse. your suit is answered thus, as i answer every prince who does me the honor to seek my hand. if you be the very prince for me you will know where to find my heart. seek it where it is hidden in my garden. _my heart is with my favorite flower._ farewell, my princes both. an hour before noontide to-morrow i will hold audience. then he who is to be punished and he who is to be rewarded shall learn their fate." saying thus she rose and, stepping lightly down from the throne, passed out of the hall. immediately all the lords and ladies followed her, leaving the two suitors alone together. then the prince fortemain scowled at joyeuse, and joyeuse scowled back at him; and they went out of the hall by opposite doors. for they loved not each other. joyeuse was moving slowly away when the gardener approached and touched him on the shoulder. "how now, must i return to the dungeon as a criminal?" asked joyeuse, flushing red. "nay. matters have changed, my lord prince," answered the gardener sulkily. "you seem no longer a trespasser, but a suitor. i do not understand how the seesaw has tilted so suddenly. but certainly you are to be lodged in no dungeon cell. my lady has given orders that you be shown to a chamber as fine as that of the prince fortemain himself. come with me, if it please you." joyeuse was then taken to a little chamber, not high, but very pleasant, looking out upon the garden through a window latticed with vines. "you are free to come and go, master," said the gardener, and left him with a low bow. now by the time all these things were finished it was late in the day, and joyeuse said to himself: "i will not search for the precious flower to-night. i know that my dear flower-maiden prefers the early morning garden, and among the freshly opened buds which i have seen her caress so kindly must be the one she loves the best. i will now seek sleep, for i am very weary. but early will i waken to-morrow morning, to seek the flower which is most dear to her." so joyeuse lay down on his bed, and was soon asleep, dreaming sweetly of the morrow. for he nothing doubted but that he should find the right and only flower, since he loved the princess so dearly that he must at last read her secret. iv but the prince fortemain had no such peace of mind. he was wounded in his princely pride because of having been defeated by the wandering minstrel. he could not sleep; but, resolving to be beforehand with joyeuse, went out into the garden by night and sought high and low for the flower-favorite of the princess. for he said to himself: "the precious time has been almost spent by that luckless fight. and by the hour when i arise to-morrow it will be time to present myself before the princess." (he was a lazy, loitering prince; which was one reason for his sour temper, i suppose.) "i must, then, find the flower to-night, before that villain minstrel does so." up and down the flowery paths went fortemain, in and out among the sleeping blossoms. most of them had their eyes shut tightly, and he could not see how beautiful they were. at last he came upon a white, heavy-scented tuberose gleaming in the moonlight, and it seemed to him the fairest of all. "ha!" he said, "this is the sweetest blossom. surely this must be the favorite of the princess fleurette. i will pluck this, and to-morrow i will take it to her and claim her hand." he gathered the tuberose and took it with him to his chamber. but even then the prince fortemain could not rest. the odor of the flower was heavy and sickening, and it gave him troublous dreams. all night wretchedly he tossed and turned, and there was no refreshment in his sleep. joyeuse woke in the morning fresh and happy and full of eagerness. he woke very early--earlier even than usual, when he had been wont to join the flower-maiden in her garden. he began to think of her, and how she had looked at different times when he had thus seen her. he remembered her the day before among the lavender; and before that among the roses, with their dangerous thorns; once among the lilies, herself as pure and white. "surely, surely," he said to himself, "one of these three is her favorite flower." and he lay staring up at the ceiling, trying to remember which of all her posies she had seemed most to love. "which one of them has her heart? how curiously she said it: '_my heart is with my favorite flower._' surely, she meant something more by the words than the first thought which they bring. what did she mean?" at this moment joyeuse glanced toward the window, where the morning sunlight streamed in gloriously. the vines about the lattice trembled in a passing breeze. one of them, reaching out a slender tendril-finger, seemed to beckon him. he half rose in bed, smiling at the thought. lo! a little pink and white flower nodded at him over the window sill. it was a morning-glory. how pretty, how fresh, how fairy-like it was, with the dew in its cup, and with its little green leaves so graceful,--like pointed hearts! suddenly joyeuse sat straight up in bed. those heart-shaped leaves! the heart of the princess fleurette! her favorite flower--was it not the morning-glory? now he remembered how he had first seen her peering in at the little arbor, herself a pink and white flower on a green stem, with the blossom in her hair. he remembered how she had kissed the little cups and called them her darlings. how could he ever have forgotten! how dull he had been! he sprang from the bed and ran eagerly to the window. he stretched out his hand to the blossom, not to pick it,--it was too early for that,--but to caress it for his maiden's sake. leaning out to do so, he heard a little laugh beneath his window, and, looking down, he saw the green flower-maiden with whom he had played in the mornings, standing at the foot of the morning-glory vine, on which her hand rested lovingly. she was looking up, but when she met his eyes she turned and ran away, laughing softly as she disappeared from sight. the time passed, all too slowly for joyeuse. but at last came the hour for the trial. the herald blew his trumpet, "tan-tara-tara!" and the courtiers flocked to the hall to witness a ceremony the like of which they had seen so many times before that they were bored at the very thought. but because joyeuse had first come as a prisoner and was now a suitor for their lady's hand, they were somewhat more interested than usual in the day's decision. weary with a heavy night and with evil dreams, the prince fortemain stood on one side of the throne with his white tuberose in his hand. but alas! the flower was as faded and weary looking as himself. plucked so early before the trial, all its fragrance and beauty were gone; and fortemain's heart sank as he looked at it, wondering if, after all, it could be the princess's favorite flower. but it was now too late to select another. indeed, he had but just risen when he heard the great bell toll its warning to be ready for the trial. he showed a hasty toilet, and a mind as ill-prepared. joyeuse, on the other hand, was as bright and brisk as the sun whose rising he had seen. his suit of green velvet was fair to view, and his eyes shone happily. in his hand he held a few inches of little vine, with leaf and tendril and at the side a single pale pink blossom. the courtiers eyed it curiously. most of them had never before seen a morning-glory; and they tittered to think one should suppose so simple a flower could be the choice of a royal princess. now the trumpet sounded again, and in came the princess fleurette, dressed in a beautiful robe of green silk, in which she looked more than ever like a wonderful flower. she mounted to her throne, looking down kindly upon her people, but merely glancing toward the two suitors who stood on either side of the dais. "now to the business of the day," she said. "i will listen to the choice which my two suitors have made. and you first, prince fortemain--how have you selected? have you found the flower of my heart? have you guessed my secret choice, and are you therefore to be my very ownest prince?" prince fortemain knelt at the foot of the throne and held out the withered tuberose somewhat ruefully. "this, my princess, is your favorite flower, i think. all over the garden i sought, and i deemed it best of all. this queen of the night is less beautiful by day; but in the moonlight it was very fair and sweet. i think your heart lies in this flower. give it to me to wear alway, dear princess." he spoke beseechingly, for indeed he loved her very dearly. but the princess shook her head. "not so, o prince," she said. "this flower of the night is not my dearest one. it is sweet, but its breath is heavy and cloying; it takes away sleep and fills the brain with stupor. nay, you have not chosen wisely, as your own haggard looks show. you are not to be my prince. you know not my heart. farewell, prince fortemain." then fortemain rose and turned away, as so many princes had done before him. he went out of the palace very sadly, and was nevermore seen in that place. the princess turned next to joyeuse. "and what has our prince of wanderers chosen?" she asked. "how well does joyeuse know the heart of fleurette?" "i have chosen thus," said the lad, as he knelt at the feet of the flower-maiden and held out to her the bit of vine, with its frail blossom. "the sweet and simple blossom of early morning; the favorite of the early-riser. this has your heart, o my princess--see, its heart-shaped leaf! have i not guessed aright?" then the princess went down the steps of the throne and took the vine from the hand of joyeuse and placed its flower in her hair. but her hand holding the heart-shaped leaf she placed within that of joyeuse, and she said: "prince joyeuse, you have chosen well, because you know my heart, and because you love what i love. you have guessed my secret. you found my heart among the morning-glories, and now it is yours forever. take it, prince joyeuse, and with it my hand. i have yet to punish you for your fault in entering my garden at a forbidden hour. your punishment shall be this: you shall without reward for a year and a day be my minstrel, my soldier, my teacher, my doctor. but from thenceforth forever you shall be my very ownest prince, sharer of my kingdom of flowers. this is the doom and the decree which i pronounce." then she kissed him very sweetly, and, leading him up to the throne, they sat down side by side upon the golden chairs. "sing to them, my minstrel," said the princess. and he sang as she commanded, until the courtiers hugged one another for joy of his wondrous music. he sang a song of fleurette and her heart like a flower. but he sang not the story of the flower-maiden, for that was a secret between him and the princess, while they lived happily ever after. from that time forward, each morning joyeuse and fleurette stole down into the garden while the others were yet asleep and enjoyed the flowers at their fairest. and no one, not even the surly gardener, suspected anything about it, which was the greatest fun of all to the merry pair. nor did any one ever hear aught of the tale until this day, when i tell it to you. but it was a morning-glory which telephoned it to me this morning, very, very early, while lazy folk were abed. the little friend i "oh! i am so cold, so cold!" sobbed little pierre, as he stumbled through the snow which was drifting deep upon the mountain side. "oh, i am so cold! the snow bites my face and blinds me, so that i cannot see the road. where are all the christmas candle-lights? the people of the village must have forgotten. the little jesus will lose his way to-night. i never forgot to set our window at home full of lights on christmas eve. but now it is christmas eve, and there is no home any more. and i am so cold, so cold!" little pierre sobbed again and stumbled in the snow, which was drifting deeper and deeper upon the mountain side. this was the stormiest christmas eve which had been seen for years, and all the little boys who had good homes were hugging themselves close to the fire, glad that they were not out in the bleak night. every window was full of flickering tapers to light the expected holy child upon his way through the village to the church. but little pierre had strayed so far from the road that he could not see these rows and rows of tiny earth-stars, any more than he could see through the snow the far-off sky-stars which the angels had lighted along the streets of heaven. pierre was on his way to the village from the orphan boys' home at the abbé's charity school. and that was not like a happy real home, for the little brothers were rough and rude and far from loving one another. he had started at dusk from the school, hoping to be at the village church before curfew. for pierre had a sweet little voice, and he was to earn a few pennies by singing in the choir on christmas morning. but it was growing late. the church would be closed and the curé gone home before pierre could reach it; and then what should he do? the snow whirled faster and faster, and pierre's legs found it harder and harder to move themselves through the great drifts. they seemed heavy and numb, and he was growing oh, so tired! if he could but lie down to sleep until christmas day! but he knew that he must not do that. for those who choose this kind of soft and tempting bed turn into ice-people, and do not wake up in the morning. so he bent his head and tried to plough on through the drifts. whish! a soft white thing flapped through the snow and struck pierre in the face, so that he staggered and almost lost his balance. the next moment he had caught the thing as it fell and was holding it tenderly in his numb hands. it was a beautiful dove, white as the snow from which it seemed to come. it had been whirled about by the storm until it had lost strength to fly, and it now lay quite still, with closed eyes. pierre stroked the ruffled feathers gently and blew upon its cold body, trying to bring it back to life. "poor bird!" he said softly. "you are lost in the snow, like me. i will try to keep you warm, though i am myself a cold little body." he put the bird under his jacket, holding it close to his heart. presently the dove opened its eyes and stirred feebly, giving a faint "coo!" "i wish i had something for you to eat, poor bird," said pierre, forgetting his own cold and hunger. "if i could but take you into my own house and feed you as i used to feed the birds upon christmas eve! but now i have no home myself, and i can scarcely keep you warm." pierre shivered and tried to move forward. but the storm seemed to grow even fiercer, and the wind blew so keenly in his face that he could scarcely stand. "i cannot go another step," he said, and down he sank in the snow, which began to cover him with a downy blanket, pretending to be a careful mother. he hugged the bird closer and began to feel afraid. he knew that he was in great danger. "dear dove," he whispered, "i am sorry that i cannot save you. we shall turn into ice-images together. but i will keep you warm as long as i can." then he closed his eyes, for he was very sleepy. in a little while something made pierre open his eyes. at first he could see only the whirling snow, which seemed to be everywhere. but presently he found that some one was bending over him, with face close to his; some one chubby and rosy and young,--a child like himself, but more beautiful than any child whom pierre had ever seen. he stared hard at the face which seemed to smile at him through the snow, not minding the cold. "you have my dove inside your coat," said the child, pointing. "i lost her in the storm. give her to me." pierre held his coat the closer. "she was cold," he answered. "she was dying in the snow. i am trying to keep her warm." "but she is warm when she is with me, though i have no coat to wrap her in," said the child. and, indeed, he was clad only in a little shirt, with his rosy legs quite bare. yet he looked not cold. a brightness glowed about him, and his breath seemed to warm the air. pierre saw that, though it was still snowing beyond them, there were no whirling flakes between him and the child. the little stranger held out his hand once more. "please give me the dove," he begged. "i must hasten on my way to the village yonder. the dove strayed from my bosom and was lost. you found her here, far from the road. thank you, little boy. are you often so kind to poor lost birds?" "why, they are the lord's own birds!" cried little pierre. "how should one not be kind and love them dearly? on the lord's birthday eve, too! it is little that i could do for this one,--i who have saved and fed so many on other christmas eves. alas, i wish i was back in those good old days of the wheat-sheaf and the full pan of milk and the bright warm fire!" pierre's eyes filled with tears. "what! did you set a sheaf of wheat for the birds on christmas eve?" asked the child, drawing closer and bending kindly eyes upon pierre. now the boy saw that where the stranger stood the snow had melted all away, so that they were inclosed in a little space like a downy nest, which seemed almost warm to his limbs. "yes, i set out a wheat-sheaf," said pierre simply. "why not? i love all the little creatures whom our lord himself so dearly loved, and to whom he bade us be kind. on christmas eve especially i always tried to make happy those which he sent in my way,--poor little wanderers as well as our own friends at home." the child drew yet closer and sat down in the snow beside pierre. his beautiful eyes shone like stars, and his voice was like sweet music. "what," he said, "you are the boy who stood in the doorway with a pan of bread and milk,--part of your own supper,--and called the hungry kitten to feast? you are the same who tossed a bone to the limping dog and made him a bed in the stable? you stroked the noses of the ox and the ass and said gentle things to them, because they were the first friends of the little jesus? you set the sheaf of wheat for the snowbirds, and they lighted upon your hands and shoulders and kissed your lips in gratitude? you are that boy, friend of god's friends. no wonder that my white dove flew to you out of the storm. she knew, she knew!" the child bent near and kissed pierre on the cheeks, so that they grew rosy, and the warm blood went tingling through his little cold limbs. sitting up, he said: "yes, i am that boy who last year was so happy because he could do these pleasant things. but how do you know, little stranger? how did you see?" "oh, i know, i saw!" cried the child, gleefully clapping his hands as a child will. "i was there. i passed through the village last christmas eve, and i saw it all. but tell me now, how do you come here, dear boy? why are you not in that happy home this stormy night, once more making the lord's creatures happy?" pierre told all to the child: how his dear father and mother had died and left him alone in the world; how the home had been sold, and now he lived in the charity school kept by the good abbé; how he had learned of the chance to earn a few pennies by singing on christmas day in the neighboring village church, which lacked a voice among the choir-boys; how he was on his way thither when the storm had hidden the road, and he had grown so cold, so cold! "then your dove came to me, little stranger," pierre concluded. "she came, and i folded her in my jacket to keep her warm. but, do you know, it must be that she has kept _me_ warm. although i could walk no further, i am not cold at all, nor frightened, and no longer hungry. sit close to me, little stranger. you shall share my jacket, too, and we will all three warm one another." the child laughed again, a low, soft, silvery laugh, like a happy brook slipping over the pebbles. "i am not cold," he said. "i cannot stay with you. i must go yonder." and he pointed through the snow. [illustration: until help comes] "whither, oh, whither?" cried pierre eagerly. "let me go with you. i am lost; but if you know the way we can go together, hand in hand." the child shook his head. "not so," he said. "i do not follow the path, and your feet would stumble. i shall find a way without sinking in the snow. i must go alone. but there is a better way for you. i leave my dove with you: she will keep you warm until help comes. farewell, friend of the lord's friends." stooping the child kissed pierre once more, upon the forehead. then, before the boy saw how he went, he had vanished from the little nest of snow, without leaving a footprint behind. now the dove, clasped close to pierre's heart, seemed to warm him like a little fire within; and the child's kiss on his forehead made him so happy, but withal so drowsy, that he smiled as he closed his eyes once more repeating, "'until help comes.' 'there is a better way' for me." ii on the side of the mountain, away from the village street, perched the little hut of grandfather viaud. and here, on christmas eve, sat the old man and his wife, looking very sad and lonely. for there was no sound of childish laughter in the little hut, no patter of small feet, no whispering of christmas secrets. the little viauds had long since grown up and flown away to build nests of their own in far-off countries. poor josef viaud and old bettine were quite alone this christmas eve, save for the saint bernard dog who was stretched out before the fire, covering half the floor with his huge bulk, like a furry rug. he was the very prince of dogs, as his name betokened, and he was very good to grandfather and grandmother, who loved him dearly. but on christmas eve even the littlest cottage, crowded with the biggest tenants, seems lonely unless there are children in the corners. the viauds sat silently gazing into the fire, with scarcely a word for each other, scarcely a caress for faithful prince. indeed, the great dog himself seemed to know that something was lacking, and every once in a while would lift his head and whine wistfully. in each of the two small windows burned a row of candles, flickering in the draught that blew down the great chimney and swept through the little chamber. and these, with the crackling blaze upon the hearth, sent queer shadows quivering up the smoky walls. grandfather viaud looked over his shoulder as a great gust blew the ashes into the room. "hey!" he cried. "i almost fancied the shadow of one looking in at the window. ha, ha! what foolishness! eh! but it is a fearsome storm. pray the good lord that there may be no poor creatures wandering on the mountain this night." "the lord's birthday, too!" said grandmother bettine. "the dear little child has a cold way to come. even he might become confused and be driven to wander by such a whirl of snow. i am glad that we set the tapers there, josef, even though we be so far from the village street down which they say he passes. how pleasant to think that one might give light to his blessed feet if they were wandering from the way,--the dear little child's feet, so rosy and soft and tender!" and good grandmother viaud dropped a tear upon her knitting; for she remembered many such little feet that had once pattered about the cottage floor. prince lifted his head and seemed to listen, then whined as he had done before. "you are lonely, old fellow, are you not?" quavered old josef. "you are waiting for the children to come back and make it merry, as it used to be in the old days when you were a pup. heigho! those were pleasant days, but they will never come again, prince. we are all growing old, we three together." "ah, peace, josef, peace!" cried old bettine, wiping her eyes again. "it is lonely enough and sad enough, god knows, without speaking of it. what use to sigh for that which cannot be? if the good lord wished us to have a comforter in our old age, doubtless he would send us one. he knows how we have longed and prayed that a child's feet might echo through our house once more: how we have hoped from year to year that one of the grandchildren might return to bless us with his little presence." at this moment prince jumped to his feet with a low bark, and stood trembling, with pointed ears. "what dost thou hear, old dog?" asked the grandfather carelessly. "there is naught human abroad this night, i warrant you. all wise folk are hugging the fire like us. only those bad spirits of christmas eve are howling about for mischief, they say. best keep away from the door, old prince, lest they nip your toes or bite your nose for spite." "hush!" cried the grandmother, laying her hand upon his arm. "you forget: there is the other one abroad. it may be that he--" she was interrupted by prince, who ran eagerly to the door and began sniffing at the latch in great excitement. then he gave a long, low howl. at the same moment the latch rattled, and the viauds distinctly heard a little voice cry, "open, open, good people!" the old couple looked at each other; the cheeks of one flushed, and the other's paled. at the same moment they rose stiffly from their chairs by the fire. but grandmother bettine was first at the door. she lifted the latch, the door blew open violently, and with a loud bark prince dashed out into the storm. "what is it? who is there?" cried josef viaud, peering over his wife's shoulder. but no one answered save the rough storm, which fiercely blew into the faces of the old couple, whirling and screaming about their heads. "h'm! it was only a fancy," muttered the old man. "come in, mother. come, prince!" and he whistled out into the storm. but the wind whistled too, drowning his voice, and prince did not return. "he is gone!" cried josef impatiently. "it is some evil spirit's work." "nay, father!" and, as she spoke, the door banged violently in josef's face, as if to emphasize the good wife's rebuke. "it was a little child; i heard it," insisted bettine, as they staggered back to the fire and sank weakly into their chairs. "perhaps it was the holy child himself, who knows? but why would he not enter? why, josef? oh, i fear we were not good enough!" "i only know that we have perhaps lost our good dog. why did you open the door, bettine?" grumbled josef sleepily. "prince is not lost. for what was he bred a snow-dog upon the mountains if a storm like this be danger to him? he is of the race that rescues, that finds and is never lost. mayhap the holy child had work for him this night. ah, the little one! if i could but have seen him for one moment!" and good bettine's head nodded drowsily on her chair-back. presently the old couple were fast asleep. now when they had been dreaming strange things for some time, there came a scratching at the door, and a loud bark which woke them suddenly. "what was that?" exclaimed grandfather, starting nervously. "ho, prince! are you without there?" and he ran to the door, while grandmother was still rubbing from her eyes the happy dream which had made them moist,--the dream of a rosy, radiant child who was to be the care and comfort of a lonely cottage. and then, before she had fairly wakened from the dream, prince bounded into the room and laid before the fire at her feet a soft, snow-wrapped bundle, from which hung a pale little face with golden hair. "it is the child of my dream!" cried bettine. "the holy one has come back to us." "nay, this is no dream-child, mother. this is a little human fellow, nearly frozen to death," exclaimed josef viaud, pulling the bundle toward the fire. "come, bettine, let us take off his snow-stiff clothes and get some little garments from the chests yonder. i will give him a draught of something warm, and rub the life into his poor little hands and feet. we have both been dreaming, it seems. but certainly this is no dream!" "look! the dove!" cried grandmother, taking the bird from the child's bosom, where it still nestled, warm and warming. "josef! i believe it is indeed the holy child himself," she whispered. "he bears a dove in his bosom, like the image in the church." but even as she spoke the dove fluttered in her fingers, then, with a gentle "coo-roo!" whirled once about the little chamber and darted out at the door, which they had forgotten quite to close. with that the child opened his eyes. "the dove is gone!" he cried. "yet i am warm. why--has the little stranger come once more?" then he saw the kind old faces bent over him, and felt prince's warm kisses on his hands and cheeks, with the fire flickering pleasantly beyond. "it is like coming home again!" he murmured, and with his head on bettine's shoulder dropped comfortably to sleep. * * * * * on the morrow all the village went to see the image of the christ child lying in a manger near the high altar of the church. it was a sweet little child in a white shirt, clasping in his hands a dove. they believed him to have come in the stormy night down the village street. and they were glad that their pious candles in the windows had guided him safely on the road. but little pierre, while he sang in the choir, and his adopted parents, the viauds, kneeling happily below, had sweet thoughts of a dream which had brought them all together. who knows but that prince at home happily guarding pierre's snow-wet old shoes--who knows but that prince was dreaming the happiest dream of all? for only prince knew how and where and under what guidance he had found the little friend of the lord's friends sleeping in the snow, with but a white dove in his bosom to keep him from becoming a boy of ice. the mermaid's child in the rocks on the seashore, left bare by the tide, one often finds tiny pools of water fringed with seaweed and padded with curious moss. these are the cradles which the mermaids have trimmed prettily for the sea-babies, and where they leave the little ones when they have to go away on other business, as mermaids do. but one never spies the sea-children in their cradles, for they are taught to tumble out and slip away into the sea if a human step should approach. you see, the fishes have told the mer-folk cruel tales of the land-people with their nets and hooks and lines. in the softest, prettiest little cradle of all a sea-child lay one afternoon crying to himself. he cried because he was lonesome. his mother did not love him as a baby's mother should; for she was the silliest and the vainest of all the mermaids. her best friend was her looking-glass of polished pearl, and her only care was to remain young and girlish. indeed, she bore her thousand-odd years well, even for a mermaid. she liked the sea-baby well enough, but she was ashamed to have him follow her about as he loved to do, because she imagined it made her seem old to be called "mer-mother" by his lisping lips. she never had time to caress or play with him; and finally she forbade him ever to speak to her unless she spoke first. sometimes she seemed to forget him altogether, as she left him to take care of himself, while she sat on the rocks combing her long green hair, or playing with the giddy mermen in the caves below the sea. so while the other sea-people sported or slept and were happy, her poor little sea-child lay and cried in the green pool where the sea-anemones tickled his cheek with their soft fingers, seeking to make him laugh, and the sea-fringe curled about the scaly little tail which, like a fish, he had in place of legs. on this particular afternoon he was particularly lonesome. "ahoo!" he sobbed. "i am so unhappy! ahoo! i want some one to love me very much!" now a kind old stork was sitting on a rock above the baby's head, preening his feathers in a looking-glass pool. he heard the sea-child's words, and he spoke in his kind, gruff voice. "what is the matter, little one?" he asked. at first the sea-child was surprised to be addressed by a land bird. but he soon saw that this creature was friendly, and told him all his trouble, as babies do. "tut tut!" said the stork, frowning. "your mer-mother needs a lesson sadly." "what is a lesson?" lisped the sea-child. but the stork was busy thinking and did not reply at once. "how would you like a change?" he asked after a time. "what is a change?" asked the baby, for he was very young and ignorant. "you shall see," answered the stork, "if you will take my advice; for i am your friend. now listen. when next you hear a step upon the rocks do not stir from your cradle, but wait and see what will happen." without another word the stork flapped away, leaving the baby to stare up at the blue sky with the tears still wet upon his cheeks, wondering what the stork could have meant. "i will not stir," he said to himself. "whatever happens i will wait and see." it was the stork's business to bring babies to the homes where babies were needed; and sometimes it was very hard to find babies enough. even now he knew of a house upon the hill where a boy was longing for a little brother to play with. every night gil mentioned the matter in his prayers; every night he begged the stork to bring him a playmate. but though the stork had hunted far and wide through all the land he could not find a human baby to spare for the cottage on the hill. now he had a happy idea. with his long legs dangling he flew swiftly up towards the hill; and halfway there he met the boy wandering about sulkily all alone. the stork had never before spoken to this boy, because he well knew what gil wanted, and he hated to be teased for what he could not give. so, though he had listened sadly to the boy's prayers, by day he had kept carefully out of sight. but now he came close overhead, and settling down stood upon one leg directly in gil's path. "good-afternoon," he said. "i think i have heard you say that you wanted a little brother." gil was surprised to have a stork address him like this, but he was still more pleased at the happy word. "i do! oh, i do indeed!" he cried. "would you make a good brother to him?" asked the stork. "oh yes!" answered the boy eagerly. "a very good brother i should be." "h'm," said the stork. "one never can tell about these boys. i think you are selfish and jealous. but a little brother may be a good thing for you. in any case, there is little for him to lose. will you be so good as to come with me?" without another word the stork flew up and away toward the beach, leaving gil staring. this certainly was a most extraordinary bird! but gil soon decided to follow him and see what would happen, for who could tell what the stork's mysterious words might mean? presently, lying in his little cradle, the sea-child heard the sound of feet scrambling up the rocks,--the sound he had been taught to fear more than anything in the world. it was his first thought to flop out of the cradle, over into the sea below; and he half turned to do so. but in a moment he remembered the stork's last words, and although he was trembling with fear he remained where he was. soon over the top of the rock peered the face of the boy, gil of the hill cottage, looking straight down into the pool where the sea-baby lay snugly on the seaweed. "oh!" cried the boy, with round black eyes fixed upon the baby's round blue ones. "oh!" cried the sea-child. and it would be hard to say which of the two was more astonished. for to a sea-child the sight of a clothed, two-legged land-boy is quite as strange as a naked little fish-tailed infant is to a human. but after the first look neither felt afraid, in spite of the terrible tales which each had heard of the other's kind. they stared wistfully at each other, not knowing what to do next, until the stork came forward and spoke wise words. "you, land-boy gil," he said, "you want a little brother, do you not?" gil nodded. "and you, sea-child, want some one to love you? i think i can manage to please you both. but first you must kiss each other." gil hesitated. he was a big boy of five or six, too old for kissing. moreover the sea-child looked cold and wet and somewhat fishy. but already the red lips of the little fellow were pouted into a round o, and the sad blue eyes were looking up at him so pleadingly that gil bent low over the watery cradle. then two little soft arms went about his neck, and gil felt the heart of the sea-child thump happily against his own. "very good," said the stork approvingly. the sea-child could not stand, on account of having no feet, but he lay in his pool holding gil's hand. "now the change is coming," went on the stork, and as he spoke the baby began to fall asleep. "in twelve hours," he said to gil, "he will become a tiny human child, and i shall carry him to the house on the hill, where he will find a loving family awaiting him. look! already he is losing the uniform of the sea," and he pointed at the sea-child's fishy tail. sure enough, the scales were falling away one by one, and already the shape of two little chubby legs could be seen under the skin, which was shrinking as a tadpole's does before he becomes a frog. "when this tail is wholly gone," declared the stork, "he will forget what we have said to-night. he will forget his sea-home and the caves of the mer-people. he will forget that he was once a sea-child; and no one will ever remind him. for only you, gil, and i shall know the secret." "and i shall never tell," declared gil. "no, surely you will never tell," answered the stork gravely, "for if you tell that will be the end of all. you will lose the little brother, and you will be sorry all the rest of your life. do not forget, gil. do not forget." "i shall not forget," said gil. again they looked at the sea-child, and he had fallen sound asleep, still holding gil's hand. now there was scarcely anything of the fish left about his little pink body; he was growing younger and younger, smaller and smaller. "you must go home now, gil," said the stork. "go home and go to bed. and to-morrow when you wake there will be a little brother in the house, and you ought to be a very good boy because you have your wish." gil gently loosened the sea-child's hand and ran home as the stork bade him, but said no word of all this to any one. now early in the morning the stork came to the house on the hill, bringing a rosy little new baby which he laid on the bed beside gil's mother, and then flew away. what a hullabaloo there was then, to be sure! what a welcome for the little stranger! gil was not the only one who had longed for a new baby in the house, and this was the prettiest little fellow ever seen. loudest of all cheered gil when he saw the present which the stork had brought. "hurrah for my little new brother!" he cried. "now i shall have some one to play with." that was gil's chief thought: now he would have some one to play with. they called the baby's name jan. and from the first little jan was very happy in his new home. he was happy all day in his mother's arms; happy when his foster-father came home at night and tossed him high to the ceiling; happiest of all when gil held him close and begged him to hurry and grow up, so that they could play together. little jan did hurry to grow up, as fast as health and strength and happiness could make a baby grow. he grew bigger and bigger, handsomer and handsomer, the finest baby in the village, and his family loved him dearly. every day he became more of a playmate for gil, whom he admired more than any one in the world. gil petted and teased the little fellow, who, as soon as he could walk, began to follow him about like a faithful dog. grand times the brothers had together then. they dug in the sand on the seashore, and scrambled about the cliffs. they rowed out in the harbor boats with hooks and lines, and played at being fishermen like their father, who sailed away early and came home late. they grew bigger and sturdier and handsomer, and their parents were very proud of them both, the finest lads in all the country round. the years went by, and during all this time jan never dreamed the truth which only gil and the stork knew about the bargain made at the sea-pool cradle. to jan, indeed, the sea was full of strange thoughts which were not memories but were like them. he loved to look and listen alone upon the water, or in the water, or by the water. gil often caught him staring down into the blue waves, and when he raised his head there would be a puzzled look in the little fellow's blue eyes, as though he were trying to solve a riddle. then gil would laugh; whereat the wrinkle would smooth itself from jan's forehead, and a smile would come about his mouth. he would throw his arm about his brother's shoulder, saying,-"what strange thing is it, brother, that the old sea does to me? i think sometimes that i am bewitched." but gil would only laugh again, thinking his own thoughts. it gave him a pleasant important feeling to know that he was the keeper of jan's secret. meantime what had become of the sea-baby's forgotten mother? what was the pretty mermaid doing in her home under the waves? she was learning the lesson which the stork had meant to teach. at first she had not greatly missed the sea-baby, having other things to interest her in the lovely world where she lived. but as the sea-days went by she began to find the grotto which had been their pretty home a very lonely place indeed. she missed the little fellow playing with the shells and starfish on the floor of shining sand. she longed to see him teasing the crabs in the crevices of the rocks, or tickling the sea-anemones to make them draw in their waving fingers. she missed the round blue eyes which used to look at her so admiringly, and the little hands which had once wearied her with their caresses. she even missed the mischievous tricks which the baby sometimes used to play upon his mother, and she would have been glad once more to see him running away with her pearly mirror, or with the golden comb with which she combed her long green hair. as she watched the other sea-children playing merrily with the fishes the lonely mermaid grew very sad, for she knew that her own baby had been the prettiest of them all, and she wondered how she could ever have been ashamed of him. the other mothers were proud of their darlings, and now they scorned her because she had no little one to hold her mirror when she made her toilet, or to run her errands when she was busy at play. but the poor mermaid was too sad to play nowadays. she no longer took any pleasure in the gay life which the mer-folk lived beneath the waves. she wandered instead here and there, up and down the sea, calling, calling for her lost baby. the sound of her sobbing came from the sea at morning, noon, and night. she did not know her child's fate, but she feared that he had been captured by the dreadful men-folk, who, so her people said, were ever seeking to snare the sea-creatures in their wicked nets. day after day the unhappy mermaid swam along the shore trying to see the places where the men-folk dwelt, hoping that she might catch a glimpse of her lost darling. but that good hap never befell her. indeed, even if she had seen jan, she would not have known her baby in the sturdy boy dressed all in blue, like the other fisher-lads. nor would jan have known his mother in this beautiful creature of the sea. for he had quite forgotten the mermaid who had neglected him, and if he thought of the mer-folk at all it was as humans do, with wonder and with longing, and yet with fear. now the good old stork who had first meddled in these matters kept one eye upon the doings in that neighborhood, and he had seen the sorrowful mermaid wandering lonely up and down the shore. he knew it must be the sea-child's mother, sorry at last for her long carelessness. as the years passed he began to pity the poor creature; but when he found himself growing too soft-hearted he would shake his head firmly and say to himself,-"it will not do. she is not yet punished enough, for she was very cruel. if now she could have her baby again she would soon be as thoughtless as ever. besides, there is my promise to gil. so long as he keeps the secret so must i." but one day, several years later, when the stork was flying over the harbor, he spied the mermaid lying upon a rock over which the waves dashed merrily, and she was weeping bitterly, tearing her lovely green hair. she looked so pretty and so forlorn that the bird's kind heart was touched, and he could not help stopping to comfort her a bit. flying close to her head he said gently,-"poor mermaid! what is the matter?" "oh, oh!" wailed the mermaid. "long, long ago i lost my pretty little sea-child, and he is not to be found anywhere, anywhere in the whole sea, for i have looked. i have been from ocean to ocean, from pole to pole. oh, what shall i do? he is on the land, i know he is, and the wicked humans are ill-treating him." the stork spoke slowly and gravely. "was he so happy, then, in his sea-home? did you love him and care for him very dearly?" "no, no!" sobbed the mermaid. "i did not love him enough. i did not make him happy. i neglected him and found him in the way, till one day he disappeared, and i shall never see him again. oh, my baby, my little sea-child!" the stork wiped a tear from his eye. "it is very sad," he said. "but perhaps it will comfort you to know that he is not far away." "oh!" cried the mermaid, clasping her hands. "you know where he is? you will bring him back to me? dear, dear stork! i will give you a necklace of pearls and a necklace of coral if you will bring my baby to me again." the stork smiled grimly, looking down at his long neck. "a necklace of pearls and a necklace of coral!" he repeated. "how becoming they would be!" then he grew grave once more and said: "i cannot return your child to you, but i can tell you something of him. he is indeed among the humans, but he is very happy there. they love him and he loves them, and all is well--so far." "oh, show him to me that i may take him away!" cried the mermaid. [illustration: you will bring him back to me?] but the stork shook his head. "no, no, for you deserted him," he said solemnly; "now he has another mother in yonder village who loves him better than you did. he has a brother, also, whom he loves best of all. you cannot claim him so long as he is happy there." "then shall i never see him again, wise bird?" asked the mermaid sadly. "perhaps," answered the stork. "if he should become unhappy, or if the secret should be betrayed." "ah, then i must be again a cruel mother and hope that he may become unhappy," sobbed the mermaid. "i shall look for him every day in the harbor near the village, and when his face is sad i shall claim him for my own." "you will not know him," cried the stork, rising on his wings and flapping away. "he wears a disguise. he is like a human,--like any other fisher-boy; and he bears a human name." "oh, tell me that name!" begged the mermaid. but the stork only cried, "i must not tell. i have told too much already," and he was gone. "oh, then i will love all fisher-boys for his sake," sobbed the mermaid as she dived down into the sea. "and some day, some day i shall find him out; for my baby is sure to be the finest of them all." now the years went by, and the parents of gil and jan were dead. the two brothers were tall and sturdy and stout, the finest lads in the whole country. but as their shadows grew taller and broader when they walked together across the sand, so another shadow which had begun to fall between them grew and grew. it was the shadow of gil's selfishness and jealousy. so long as jan was smaller and weaker than he, gil was quite content, and never ceased to be grateful for the little brother who had come to be his playmate. but suddenly, as it seemed, he found that jan was almost as big as himself; for the boy had thriven wondrously, though there were still several years which jan could never make up. gil was still the leader, but jan was not far behind; and jan himself led all the other boys when his brother was not by. every one loved jan, for he was kind and merry, while gil was often gloomy and disagreeable. gil wanted to be first in everything, but there began to be some things that jan could do better than he. it made gil angry to hear his brother praised; it made him sulky and malicious, and sometimes he spoke unkindly to jan, which caused the blue eyes to fill with tears. for, big fellow though he was, jan was five years younger, and he was a sensitive lad, loving gil more than anything else in the world. gil's unkindness hurt jan deeply, but could not make him love his brother less. both boys were famous swimmers. gil was still the stronger of the two, and he could outswim any lad in town. as for jan, the fishermen declared that he took to the water like a fish. no one in all the village could turn and twist, dive and glide and play such graceful pranks, flashing whitely through the waves, as did jan. this was a great trouble to gil, who wished to be foremost in this as in everything else. he was a selfish fellow; he had wanted a playmate to follow and admire him. he had not bargained for a comrade who might become a rival. and he seemed to love his brother less and less as the days went by. one beautiful summer day gil and jan called together the other boys, the best swimmers in the village, and they all went down to the bay to swim. they played all sorts of water-games, in which the two brothers were leaders. they dived and floated and chased one another like fishes through the water. jan, especially, won shouts of applause for his wonderful diving, for the other boys liked him, and were proud of him, glad to see him win. this again made gil jealous and angry. jan dived once more and remained under water so long that the boys began to fear that he would never come up; and in his wicked heart gil half hoped that it was to be so. for it had come about that gil began to wish he had no brother at all. so different was he from the boy who made the eager bargain with the good old stork. at last jan's head came out of the water, bubbling and blowing, and the boys set up a cheer. never before had any one in the village performed such a feat as that. but jan did not answer their cheers with his usual merry laugh. something was troubling him which made him look strange to the others. as soon as he reached the shore he ran up to gil and whispered in his brother's ear a curious story. "oh, gil!" he cried. "such a strange feeling i have had! down below there as i was swimming along i seemed to hear a strange sound like a cry, and then, surely, i felt something cling close to me, like soft arms. gil, gil, what could it have been? i have heard tell of the mermaidens who are said to live in these waters. some even say that they have seen them afar off on the rocks where the spray dashed highest. gil, could it have been a mermaid who touched me and seemed to pull me down as if to keep me under the water forever? i could hardly draw away, gil. tell me what you think it means?" gil was too angry at jan's success to answer kindly. he sneered, remembering the secret which only he and the stork knew. "there are slimy folk, half fish and half human, people say. the less one has to do with them the better. i think you are half fish yourself, jan. it is no credit to you that you are able to swim!" so spoke gil, breaking the promise which he had once given. on the minute came a hoarse cry overhead, and a great stork flapped down the sky, fixing his sharp eyes upon gil, as if in warning. "why, how strangely the stork acts!" cried jan. gil bit his lip and said no more, but from that moment he hated his brother wickedly, knowing that the stork was still watching over the child whom he had taken from the sea. but jan had no time to ask gil what he meant by the strange words which he had just spoken, for at that moment several of the boys came running up to them. "ho, gil! ho, jan!" they cried. "let us have a race! come, let us swim out to the round rock and back. and the winner of this race shall be champion of the village. come, boys, make ready for the race!" gil's face brightened, for he had ever been the strongest swimmer on the bay, and now he could afford to be kind to poor jan, whose blue eyes were clouded and unhappy, because of gil's former harsh words and manner. "ho! the race, the race!" cried gil. "come, jan, you can dive like a fish. now let us see how you can swim. one, two, three! we are off!" the boys sprang, laughing, into the water. jan needed but a kind word from his brother to make him happy again. off they started for the round rock, where the spray was dashing high. the black heads bobbed up and down in the waves, drawing nearer and nearer to the rock. gradually they separated, and some fell behind. the lads could not all keep up the gay strokes with which they had begun the race. four held the lead; boise and cadoc, the lighthouse-keeper's sons, gil, and jan. almost abreast they rounded the rock, and began the long stretch back to the beach. soon boise began to fall behind. in a little while cadoc's strength failed also. they shouted, laughingly, that they were fairly beaten, and those who were on shore began to cry encouragement to the two brothers, who alone were left in the race. "gil! jan! oh, gil! oh, jan! hasten, lads, for one of you is the champion. hurrah! hurrah!" gil was in high spirits, for he was still in the lead. "hurry, little brother," he cried, "or i shall beat you badly. oho! you can dive, but that is scarcely swimming, my fine lad. you had better hurry, or i win." and jan did hurry. he put forth all his strength as he had never done before. soon the black heads bobbed side by side in the water, and gil ceased to laugh and jest, for it was now a struggle in good earnest. he shut his teeth angrily, straining forward with all his might. but push as he would, jan kept close beside. at last, when within a few yards of the beach, jan gave a little laughing shout and shot through the water like a flash. he had been saving his strength for this,--and he had won! the other boys dragged him up the beach with shouts and cheers of welcome to the new champion, while gil, who had borne that title for so long, crawled ashore unaided. "hurrah for jan!" they cried, tossing their caps and dancing happily, for jan was a great favorite. "hurrah for the little brother! now gil must take the second place. you are the big brother now!" and they laughed and jeered at gil,--not maliciously, but because they were pleased with jan. jan ran to gil and held out his hand for his brother's congratulations, but gil thrust it aside. "it was not a fair race!" he sputtered. "unfair, unfair, i vow!" the others gathered around, surprised to see gil so angry and with such wild eyes. "gil, oh, gil! what do you mean?" cried jan, turning very pale. "why was it not a fair race, brother?" "brother! you are no brother of mine!" shouted gil, beside himself with rage. "you are a changeling,--half fish, half sea-monster. you were helped in this race by the sea-people; you cannot deny it. i saw one push you to the shore. you could not have beaten me else. every one knows that i am the better swimmer, though i am no fish." "nonsense!" cried boise, clapping gil on the shoulder with a laugh. "you talk foolishness, gil. there are no sea-folk in these waters; those are old women's tales. it was a fair race, i say, and jan is our champion." but jan heeded only the cruel words which his brother had spoken. "gil, what do you mean?" he asked again, trembling with a new fear. "i was not helped by any one." "ha!" cried gil, pointing at him fiercely, "see him tremble, see his guilty looks! he knows that i speak true. the mermaid helped him. he is half fish. he came out of the sea and was no real brother of mine, but a merbaby. a mermaid was his mother!" at these words a whirring sound was heard in the air overhead, and a second time the stork appeared, flapping across the scene out to sea, where he alighted upon the round rock. but gil was too angry even to notice him. "gil, gil, tell me how this can be?" begged jan, going up to his brother and laying a pleading hand upon his arm. but gil shook him off, crying, "it is true! he is half fish and the sea-folk helped him. it was not a fair race. let us try it again." "nonsense!" cried the other boys indignantly. "it was a fair race. jan need not try again, for he is our champion. we will have it so." but jan was looking at gil strangely, and the light was gone out of his eyes. his face was very white. "i did not know that you cared so much to win," he said to gil in a low voice. then he turned to the others. "if my brother thinks it was not a fair race let us two try again. let us swim once more to the round rock and back; and the winner shall be declared the village champion." for jan meant this time to let his brother beat. what did he care about anything now, since gil hated him so much that he could tell that story? "well, let them try the race again, since jan will have it so," cried the boys, grumbling and casting scornful looks at gil, who had never been so unpopular with them as at this moment. once more the two sprang into the waves and started for the round rock, where the spray was dashing merrily over the plumage of the stork as he stood there upon one leg, trying not to mind the wetness which he hated. for he was talking earnestly with a pretty mermaid who sat on the rock in the surf, wringing her hands. "it is he! it is he!" she cried. "i know him now. it is the lad whom they call _jan_, the finest swimmer of them all. oh, he dives like a fish! he swims like a true sea-child. he is my own baby, my little one! i followed, i watched him. i could hardly keep my hands from him. tell me, dear stork, is he not indeed my own?" the stork looked at her gravely. "it is no longer a secret," he said, "for jan has been betrayed. he who is now jan the unhappy mortal boy was once your unhappy sea-baby." "unhappy! oh, is he unhappy?" cried the mermaid. "then at last i may claim him as you promised. i may take him home once more to our fair sea-home, to cherish him and make him happier than he ever was in all his little life. but tell me, dear stork, will he not be my own little sea-child again? i would not have him in his strange, ugly human guise, but as my own little fish-tailed baby." "when you kiss him," said the stork, "when you throw your arms about his neck and speak to him in the sea-language, he will become a sea-child once more, as he was when i found him in his cradle on the rocks. but look! yonder he comes. a second race has begun, and they swim this way. wait until they have turned the rock, and then it will be your turn. ah, gil! you have ill kept your promise to me!" yes, the race between the brothers was two thirds over. side by side as before the two black heads pushed through the waves. both faces were white and drawn, and there was no joy in either. gil's was pale with anger, jan's only with sadness. he loved his brother still, but he knew that gil loved him no more. they were nearing the shore where the boys waited breathlessly for the end of this strange contest. suddenly jan turned his face towards gil and gave him one look. "you will win, brother," he breathed brokenly, "my strength is failing. you are the better swimmer, after all. tell the lads that i confess it. go on and come in as the champion." he thought that gil might turn to see whether he needed aid. but gil made no sign save to quicken his strokes, which had begun to lag, for in truth he was very weary. he pushed on with only a desire to win the shore and to triumph over his younger brother. with a sigh jan saw him shoot ahead, then turning over on his back he began to float carelessly. he would not make another effort. it was then that he saw the stork circling close over his head; and it did not seem so very strange when the stork said to him,-"swim, jan! you are the better swimmer; you can beat him yet." "i know; but i do not wish to beat," said jan wearily. "he would only hate me the more." "there is one who loves you more than ever he did," said the stork gently. "will you go home to your sea-mother, the beautiful mermaid?" "the mermaid!" cried jan; "then it is true. my real home is not upon the shore?" "your real home is here, in the waves. beneath them your mother waits." "then i need not go back to that other home," said jan, "that home where i am hated?" "ah, you will be loved in this sea-home," said the stork. "you will be very happy there. come, come, mermaid! kiss your child and take him home." then jan felt two soft arms come around his neck and two soft lips pressed upon his own. "dear child!" whispered a soft voice, "come with me to your beautiful sea-home and be happy always." a strange, drowsy feeling came over him, and he forgot how to be sad. he felt himself growing younger and younger. the world beyond the waves looked unreal and odd. he forgot why he was there; he forgot the race, the boys, gil, and all his trouble. but instead he began to remember things of a wonderful dream. he closed his eyes; the sea rocked him gently, as in a cradle, and slowly, slowly, with the soft arms of the mermaid about him, and her green hair twining through his fingers, he sank down through the water. as he sank the likeness of a human boy faded from him, and he became once more a fresh, fair little sea-child, with a scaly tail and plump, merry face. the mer-folk came to greet him. the fishes darted about him playfully. the sea-anemones beckoned him with enticing fingers. the sea-child was at home again, and the sea was kind. so gil became the champion; but that was little pleasure to him, as you can fancy. for he remembered, he remembered, and he could not forget. he thought, like all the village, that jan had been drowned through his brother's selfishness and jealousy. he forgave himself less even than the whole village could forgive him for the loss of their favorite; for he knew better than they how much more he was to blame, because he had broken the promise which kept jan by him. if he had known how happy the sea-child now was in the home from which he had come to be gil's brother, perhaps gil would not have lived thereafter so sad a life. the stork might have told him the truth. but the wise old stork would not. that was to be gil's punishment,--to remember and regret and to reproach himself always for the selfishness and jealousy which had cost him a loving brother. the ten blowers i once upon a time there was a fat miller who lived in the land of windmills. now that is a queer country, where the people look queer, talk and live and dress queerly, and where queer things are likely to happen at any time. so you must not be surprised if this should be a queer tale of the miller and his mill and his family; but you must take my queer word for it that the happenings were all queerly true as i shall tell them. the miller was a thoughtful fellow, as the folk of the land of windmills are apt to be; and he had ideas. when his first son was born he sat down and thought for a long time. his baby had fine lungs; he cried louder and longer than any baby of whom the miller had ever heard, so that the father had to go out of doors to think. "he is a very remarkable child!" said the miller to himself. "his talents in the way of lung-power are extraordinary; they must be developed. i believe in deciding as soon as possible what a child shall be, according to his earliest inclinations. with his fine lungs he must become a blower of some kind; a musician,--perhaps a corneter or a flutist. but that we can decide later. i shall begin to train him immediately." so the miller trained the lungs of his son. his first gift to the baby was an ivory whistle, and the little fellow soon learned to blow it so that his mother was nearly deafened. when he grew stronger he had a penny trumpet, and then there was a racket, to be sure! but the more noise he made the more were the miller and his good wife delighted. for they said to each other: "what wonderful talents has our son! surely he will become a great blowing musician in the days that are to be." before he was a year old hans could blow a little bugle so loudly that all the dogs of the neighborhood would rush to the house and surround it, barking. but he made no tunes on the bugle; only noise. not long after this came a little brother for hans; and this baby showed the same talents as the first one, by day and by night filling the cottage with his sturdy bellows. you might think that this would have disturbed the peace of the miller and his wife, who could get no sleep at all. but no, indeed! they were twice delighted. "look now!" they said, "we shall have two little blowers in the family,--perhaps a flute and a trombone; perhaps a cornet and a fife,--who knows?" and they began to put piet through the same training that hans had received; which was very pleasant for the little brothers, as you can imagine. there was no crying of "oh, children! don't make such a racket!" in that house. there was no hiding of whistles and trumpets and bugles. when one noisy toy wore out they were immediately given a new one, for fear that they should forget how to blow. and they played at nothing else all day long but blowing, and blowing, and blowing. the house was so noisy that the neighbors did not often visit the miller's wife. but she cared nothing at all for that. then another baby came; and as the years went by more little brothers blessed the miller's cottage, each with the same wonderful lung-power, the same puffy cheeks, the same fondness for blowing. till before the miller fairly had counted them all, he found himself sitting at the head of a table around which ten little blowers kicked their heels and blew on their porridge to cool it. now ten little blowers, each blowing all day long for dear life, have ten big appetites; and the miller had hard work to supply them with food. the children were not helping him by earning money. oh no! they were too busy blowing,--practicing on the flutes, trombones, trumpets, bugles, fifes, horns, oboes, cornets, bassoons, and piccolos which their father had bought them, hoping that they would be musicians. but it was very strange; although they were becoming skillful indeed in making a loud noise, they had never yet made any music. the more they practiced the further they seemed to be from any tune. when they all got together and blew their instruments as hard as they could, you cannot imagine a more wonderful noise than that which they produced! they could blow the panes out of the windows and the leaves from the trees, but they could not make the least little tune to save their lives. at last the poor miller saw that they never would make any tune, because there was no music in them, not in one of them. they could never be musicians, though they were wonderful blowers. you see, unless they could blow tunes on their instruments no one would ever pay merely to hear them blow; indeed, nowadays folk seldom ventured near the mill, the family made such a din. and this blew trade away, even on windy days. the miller was growing poorer and poorer, and it seemed unlikely that his children would ever help him to earn their bread, for they had been brought up to blow, and that was all they knew how to do. one morning the miller went out to grind some grain which farmer huss had left the night before. huss, who was stone deaf, was the only neighbor who cared nowadays to come to the noisy mill, and naturally the miller was anxious to please him. but when he looked up at the cloudless sky he saw that there would be no grinding done that morning. there was no breeze anywhere, and the mill was sound asleep. the windmill was lazy, like all its race, and unless an urging wind was blowing it would not work at all. on breezeless days the mill slept from morning until night, and then the farmers who had brought their grain grumbled and were angry with the poor miller; which, of course, was very unreasonable. farmer huss had vowed that if his grain was not ground before noon he would never come near the miller again; and that would be bad indeed, for, deaf though he was, he remained the miller's best customer. worst of all, there was not a crust in the house, not a penny to buy bread. and although the children were now so busy blowing that they had forgotten to be hungry, before night they would be crying for food. what was to be done? hollow-eyed with hunger and anxiety, the miller sat down and stared at the motionless mill. something must be done! unless the children could help him earn a penny he must sell their flutes, trombones, trumpets, bugles, fifes, horns, oboes, cornets, bassoons, and piccolos; but what then would become of their wonderful talents for blowing? "must all their practice be wasted?" thought the miller. "they have blown, they have blown until their breath is as strong as the wind. ha! i have an idea!" and jumping up he ran as fast as his legs would carry him to gather his little flock. "it is an ill babe that blows no good!" said the miller to himself. the miller found his boys in the mill yard blowing on their ten instruments. hans the eldest, who was head and shoulders taller than his father, had the huge bassoon, and the baby, who was just able to toddle, grasped a piccolo. all the other brothers big and little, tall and short, were tootling upon their various instruments with their cheeks bulging out like balloons; and the noise was so deafening that the bugs and beetles burrowed down into the ground to escape it, while even the fishes in the well turned over on their backs and fainted from the vibrations. whenever they were hungry the miller's sons always blew hardest, because then they forgot about their empty stomachs. although it was a still day,--so still that the windmill's arms were quite motionless,--when the children blew the notes from their instruments the smoke about the cottage chimney huddled itself together and scudded horizontally away. the trees swayed as if blown by a tempest, and the waters of the duck-pond became humpy with waves; so that the ducks were in danger of drowning. when the miller saw all this he was delighted, and his face beamed like the sun after a shower. "good, my children, good!" he cried. "you are wonderful little blowers, and you shall make my fortune yet, though there is not one note of music in the ten of you. but look now; i have an idea! gather around me and i will tell you." the ten children dropped their instruments and crowded eagerly about the miller, for they hoped that he was going to tell them some way to get a dinner. but instead of this, he led them in a procession straight to the windmill, where it stood lazily holding out its arms for the breeze which did not come. "look at that lazy windmill!" said the miller. "he has ground no meal for a whole day, and we have no money to buy food. now, children, open your mouths and blow, _blow_, as hard as you know how, to see whether you cannot blow wind into his sails and make him go." so the ten boys stood in a row, and at a signal took in a deep breath. when the miller counted "one--two--_three_!" they made round mouths and blew out a long breath, straight towards the windmill's nearest arm. and lo! instantly the sails filled, and the great windmill spun around like mad, whether it would or no. the miller's idea was wonderful! the children jumped up and down, clapping their hands. why had they never thought of this before? this was better than blowing instruments! the miller told the children to keep on blowing, and ran into the mill to fill the hopper with grain. the white flour went sifting into the bags till their sides were plump and firm. in a few moments all the grain was ground, and the miller was on his way to deliver the bags to neighbor huss. and deaf old huss was so pleased to have his meal ready before he expected it that he paid the miller double, promising to call again very soon. so now the miller had money to buy bread for his children; and a fine supper they enjoyed that night, you may be sure. best of it all was that their good luck had come to stay. the children gave up their flutes, trombones, trumpets, bugles, fifes, horns, oboes, cornets, bassoons, and piccolos, because they had decided not to be musicians, but mill-blowers instead,--which was a blow to music. after all, they said, their new profession was a more distinguished one. for with practice any one can blow a blast on a trombone, but few families of ten have lungs so mighty that they can blow a windmill when it wants to stand still. they practiced and they practiced, before and after school. and they grew so skillful that the miller declared them to be better than any breeze, for they were always ready when he wanted them. on days when no breeze was blowing and all the other windmills in the land were as quiet as the market on sunday,--then the neighbors flocked to the miller of the wonderful blowing family, and at his mill they were sure of having their grain ground quickly and well. the miller was fast growing rich. he charged double price, always; and, indeed, folk thought it was worth paying a double price to see the miller's ten blowers at their work. they had neat little uniforms of blue and white, like figures on a tile,--blue trousers and white millers' smocks, and wooden shoes. and they were trained to stand in an orderly row, with big hans at the head and chubby baby tod at the foot, all puff-cheeked, ruddy, and broad-chested from much blowing. and they blew all together,--one--_two!_ one--_two!_ one--_two!_--with a sound like a great wind in the chimney on a january night, while the windmill whirled around like a mad thing and seemed ready to blow to pieces. but the on-lookers had to be careful to put a rock in their pockets, or to hold on to something steady, lest they be blown from their feet by the blast which the children blew. stories of the miller's wonderful family spread far and wide, and many folk came to see the little blowers at their work. they were often asked to show their skill in various ways. hans might easily have earned his living as a blacksmith's bellows, could his father have spared him from the mill. the village children often coaxed the younger blowers to blow their kites up into the sky or their sailboats down the canals. even the baby earned many a penny by blowing the soot out of the cottage chimneys and the dust from corners in the goodwives' spandy floors. but the miller himself did not encourage all this. "best stick to your home mill, my sons," he said, "and good will come of it. do not waste your breath in blowing small things, and one day your breath shall blow us into fortune." and this seemed likely to be true; for every day they were becoming more famous and more rich. and all the other millers in the land were so jealous that they could not sleep o' nights. ii there came a time when the miller was kept busy indeed, and proudly so. for he had been commanded by the king himself to grind one thousand sacks of flour for the wedding-cookery of the young prince, his son. the prince was to cross the sea to be married to the daughter of the proud king of outland; and when he had brought his fair bride home there was to be great rejoicing,--feasting and merrymaking at the capital of the land of windmills. and the miller's flour was to make the huge wedding-cake and a little cake for each of the guests. for his share in all this preparation the miller was to receive a great price,--a bag of gold. so he hurried about, and the children blew, and the windmill whirled, and dusty flour went pouring into the king's sacks, until all was done. then the miller sat proudly at the head of his table, surrounded by his proud family, and with the sack of gold in the middle of the board for them to admire. they were eating their goodly supper and drinking the health of the prince and his bride, for the morrow was to be the wedding-day. every one was talking and laughing under his breath--for they dared not laugh aloud nowadays, for fear of blowing out all the lights. suddenly there came the galloping of horses' hoofs along the highway and a thundering knock at the door. "open!" cried a voice. "a messenger of the king!" the fat miller ran to the door and undid the bolts as fast as he could, while his children crowded around to hear the king's message. but they held their breaths, lest the message be blown away as soon as spoken. there sat a rider on a great black horse; and behind him eleven grooms held eleven horses, of different sizes, the smallest one being the prettiest, tiniest white pony you ever saw. "ho! miller!" shouted the messenger. "i bring the king's command that you and your family of blowers mount and ride with me to the capital, for the king has need of you. i bring steeds for all; lose no time in obeying the king's message." the miller and his sons were startled and amazed; they could not guess whether for joy or for sorrow they were thus called to court. but of course there was nothing for them but to obey the king. quickly they mounted the eleven steeds which the eleven grooms had brought. the fat miller went first, on a fat little brown horse which looked like him; and behind him came long, lanky hans on a long-limbed bay. after him followed piet on a gallant chestnut, behind whom galloped all the other brothers, with tod the baby on the tiny white pony bringing up the rear. but the miller's poor wife was left behind, not knowing whether to be sorry or glad because of the king's summons to her family. nearly all night they galloped, thud-thud! over the quiet roads, past shut-eyed houses and dozy windmills, drowsy canals and dreaming villages. and at early dawn they came to the capital city. here the tired king himself rode out to meet them, accompanied by a crowd of sleepy soldiers and cross-looking nobles. the miller and his ten boys slipped from their saddles and knelt in a row before the king, awaiting his commands. but he had no time for ceremony this morning. "rise!" he cried impatiently. "do not kneel there when time is so precious! rise and hasten to the seashore, miller. i have heard what wonderful blowers your children are. it is for this reason i have sent for you. out yonder on the sea lies the ship of my son, the prince, who has sailed for outland to bring home a bride. yesterday morn he started; but he has not gone far. my telescopes show that the ship still lies helpless, as she has lain for twelve hours, becalmed between the windless headlands in the bay of calms. the wedding was to have been this morning at ten in the outland king's cathedral. hasten, miller! he has yet many leagues to go. you and your children must blow the prince into port in season for the ceremony, or his life is lost. for if he be late, even by five minutes, the outland king has bargained that he must die. he is a proud father; she is a proud princess, and must be kept waiting by no one. my word is pledged; my son is in danger! save the prince, miller, and you shall be made a duke, and all your children earls." the king ceased speaking, and the crowd of nobles hustled the miller and his family down to the shore, whence, far off against the dawn, sharp eyes could dimly see the prince's ship lying on the water, like a leaf on the surface of a calm well. the miller ranged his ten blowers in a row, as they always stood when about to make the windmill whirl; and they were a flight of steps, one above the other, good to see. then the miller cried,-"blow, my children! blow with all your might, when i speak the word; for a great matter is at stake. now; one, two, _three_!" the boys drew in a long breath, puffed their cheeks, let out their breath, expanded their chests, and at the third count blew with all their might, till their eyes bulged and they were purple in the face. the trees bent to the ground, and the birds flew out of their nests, chirping wildly. and soon after this the watchmen on the palace wall, who were spying at the prince's ship with their telescopes, gave a great cheer. the sails had filled with wind, and the vessel was moving ever so slowly towards outland. "again, my babes!" roared the miller. "one, two, _three_!" and once more a blast blew from the shore, so mighty that the hats of the nobles went flying off into the sea, and the king himself nearly lost his crown of pearls and rubies; which would have been a scandalous thing! once more the lookouts on the battlements cheered. the prince's ship was moving steadily forward past the windless headlands, out of the bay of calms. "once more!" shouted the miller, encouraged by the king's nod of delight. "one more blow for our king and prince, my children!" and a third time the ten filled their lungs and puffed their cheeks in the good cause. this time the watchers danced wildly on the palace walls, and waved a golden banner to the king, which was the signal that all was well. for the prince's ship had scudded clean out of sight, straight towards outland and the bride. once in the open gulf the ship was in no further danger of being becalmed. [illustration: one more blow for our king] this is how the miller and his ten saved the life of the prince of the land of windmills, and became very dear to their king. for, aided by the breath of the miller's sons, the prince reached outland in time,--yes, even with time to spare; the princess was not ready for him! and her father was so pleased by this promptness of the bridegroom that, when the newly married pair left outland after the grand wedding, they took with them as a gift from the king one hundred buckets of silver and one hundred buckets of gold and one hundred buckets of shining jewels, the most beautiful that ever were seen. so that when the prince reached the land of windmills he was able to give fine presents to all who had done services for him. and you may be sure that the miller and his boys were not among the last of this number. the miller was made duke of millwind, and he received one of the one hundred buckets of jewels; while each of the earls, his sons, had one of the buckets of gold. and the miller's wife received one of the buckets of silver; though she had done nothing at all but stay at home and worry. after that there was no longer any need for the miller and his family to weaken themselves with work. they were rich and noble; and now it was fair to give the other millers in the land a chance. but no other miller had so talented a family, you see. the best thing of all was that the prince and princess, who, upon the old king's death, themselves became king and queen, lived to have ten daughters, each more beautiful than the others. and when they were grown up, the king their father married them to the ten young earls, the sons of the duke of millwind, in token of his gratitude to that fine fat gentleman who was once a miller. and hans the eldest son, who married the eldest princess,--he who had first shown his talent as a blower,--hans himself became in time king of the land of windmills; which was great fortune for the miller's son, as i think you must agree. so the miller's saying proved true, that they would "blow themselves into fortune." now it was in the reign of this illustrious pair that two wonderful inventions were made,--squeaker-balloons and soap-bubbles. they were invented at the command of king hans in honor of his first infant, who was born with a perfectly wonderful talent for blowing. [illustration] the riverside press _electrotyped and printed by h. o. houghton & co. cambridge, mass., u. s. a._ * * * * * transcriber's note: each chapter title was printed on a separate page and then repeated on the page where the chapter began. in this e-book chapter titles are used only once to avoid unnecessary repetition. page 26, "see" changed to "she" (she glanced at joyeuse) [illustration: the little "neck" in the swedish river.] brownies and bogles by louise imogen guiney author of songs at the start goose-quill papers the white sail _fifty illustrations by edmund h garrett_ boston d lothrop company franklin and hawley streets copyright, 1888, by d. lothrop company. presswork by berwick & smith, boston. contents. chapter i. what fairies were and what they did 11 chapter ii. fairy rulers 22 chapter iii. the black elves 33 chapter iv. the light elves 46 chapter v. dear brownie 63 chapter vi. other house-helpers 79 chapter vii. water-folk 96 chapter viii. mischief-makers 109 chapter ix. puck; and poets' fairies 123 chapter x. changelings 133 chapter xi. fairyland 146 chapter xii. the passing of the little people 159 list of illustrations. the little river-neck of sweden _frontis._ "god speed you, gentlemen!" 16 the neapolitan fairy 25 the elf-monarch who was made court-fool 29 the isle of rügen dwarfs that give presents to children 31 the dwarf that borrowed the silk gown 35 the black dwarfs of rügen planning mischief 38 the troll's children 40 a coblynau 42 "i can't stay any longer!" 45 an elle-maid of denmark 48 bertha, the white lady 49 some greek fairies 51 an elf-traveller 58 brownie's delight was to do domestic service 65 brownie relishes his bowl of cream 70 all that pück demanded 73 "wag-at-the-wa'" 75 an irish cluricaune 84 japanese children and brownies 86 a little fir-darrig 87 the persistent kobold of köpenick 93 mer-folk 98 the old nix near ghent 100 the work of the nickel 101 hob in hobhole 106 the irish pooka was a horse too 111 will o'-the-wisp 113 pisky also chased the farmers' cows 118 red comb was a tyrant 119 the welsh puck 126 a merry night-wanderer 127 "by the moon we sport and play" 129 the elves whose little eyes glow 132 there was an irish changeling 137 "the acorn before the oak have i seen" 139 she heard a faint voice singing under a leaf 143 "ainsel" 144 gitto bach and the fairies 148 kaguyahime, the moon-maid 149 the little hunchback 152 taknakanx kan 156 "al was this loud fulfilled of faeries" 161 fairy stories 163 the capture of skillywidden 165 good-bye 171 brownies and bogles. "brownies and bogles." chapter i. what fairies were and what they did. a fairy is a humorous person sadly out of fashion at present, who has had, nevertheless, in the actors' phrase, a long and prosperous run on this planet. when we speak of fairies nowadays, we think only of small sprites who live in a kingdom of their own, with manners, laws, and privileges very different from ours. but there was a time when "fairy" suggested also the knights and ladies of romance, about whom fine spirited tales were told when the world was younger. spenser's faery queen, for instance, deals with dream-people, beautiful and brave, as do the old stories of arthur and roland; people who either never lived, or who, having lived, were glorified and magnified by tradition out of all kinship with common men. our fairies are fairies in the modern sense. we will make it a rule, from the beginning, that they must be small, and we will put out any who are above the regulation height. such as the charming famous melusina, who wails upon her tower at the death of a lusignan, we may as well skip; for she is a tall young lady, with a serpent's tail, to boot, and thus, alas! half-monster; for if we should accept any like her in our plan, there is no reason why we should not get confused among mermaids and dryads, and perhaps end by scoring down great juno herself as a fairy! many a dwarf and goblin, whom we shall meet anon, is as big as a child. again, there are rumors in nearly every country of finding hundreds of them on a square inch of oak-leaf, or beneath the thin shadow of a blade of grass. the fairies of popular belief are little and somewhat shrivelled, and quite as apt to be malignant as to be frolicsome and gentle. we shall find that they were divided into several classes and families; but there is much analogy and vagueness among these divisions. by and by you may care to study them for yourselves; at present, we shall be very high-handed with the science of folk-lore, and pay no attention whatever to learned gentlemen, who quarrel so foolishly about these things that it is not helpful, nor even funny, to listen to them. a widely-spread notion is that when our crusading forefathers went to the holy land, they heard the paynim soldiers, whom they fought, speaking much of the peri, the loveliest beings imaginable, who dwelt in the east. now, the arabian language, which these swarthy warriors used, has no letter p, and therefore they called their spirits feri, as did the crusaders after them; and the word went back with them to europe, and slipped into general use. "elf" and "goblin," too, are interesting to trace. there was a great italian feud, in the twelfth century, between the german emperor and the pope, whose separate partisans were known as the guelfs and the ghibellines. as time went on, and the memory of that long strife was still fresh, a descendant of the guelfs would put upon anybody he disliked the odious name of ghibelline; and the latter, generation after generation, would return the compliment ardently, in his own fashion. both terms, finally, came to be mere catch-words for abuse and reproach. and the fairies, falling into disfavor with some bold mortals, were angrily nicknamed "elf" and "goblin"; in which shape you will recognize the last threadbare reminder of the once bitter and historic faction of guelf and ghibelline. it is likely that the tribe were designated as fairies because they were, for the most part, fair to see, and full of grace and charm, especially among the celtic branches; and people, at all times, had too much desire to keep their good-will, and too much shrinking from their rancor and spite, to give them any but the most flattering titles. they were seldom addressed otherwise than "the little folk," "the kind folk," "the gentry," "the fair family," "the blessings of their mothers," and "the dear wives"; just as, thousands of years back, the noblest and cleverest nation the world has ever seen, called the dreaded three "eumenides," the gracious ones. it is a sure and fast maxim that wheedling human nature puts on its best manners when it is afraid. in goldsmith's racy play, she stoops to conquer, old mistress hardcastle meets what she takes to be a robber. she hates robbers, of course, and is scared half out of her five wits; but she implores mercy with a cowering politeness at which nobody can choose but laugh, of her "good mr. highwayman." now, fairies, who knew how to be bountiful and tender, and who made slaves of themselves to serve men and women, as we shall see, were easily offended, and wrought great mischief and revenge if they were not treated handsomely; all of which kept people in the habit of courtesy toward them. a whirlwind of dust is a very annoying thing, and makes one splutter, and feel absurdly resentful; but in ireland, exactly as in modern greece, the peasantry thought that it betokened the presence of fairies going a journey; so they lifted their hats gallantly, and said: "god speed you, gentlemen!" [illustration: "god speed you, gentlemen!"] fairies had their followers and votaries from early times. nothing in the bible hints that they were known among the heathens with whom the israelites warred; nothing in classic mythology has any approach to them, except the beautiful wood and water-nymphs. yet poet homer, pliny the scientist, and aristotle the philosopher, had some notion of them, and of their influence. in old china, whole mountains were peopled with them, and the coriander-seeds grown in their gardens gave long life to those who ate of them. the persians had a hierarchy of elves, and were the first to set aside fairyland as their dwelling-place. saxons, in their wild forests, believed in tiny dwarves or demons called duergar. celtic countries, scotland, brittany, ireland, wales, were always crowded with them. in the "uttermost mountains of india, under a merry part of heaven," or by the hoary nile, according to other writers, were the pigmeos, one cubit high, full-grown at three years, and old at seven, who fought with cranes for a livelihood. and the swiss alchemist, paracelsus (a most pompous and amusing old bigwig), wrote that in his day all germany was filled with fairies two feet long, walking about in little coats! their favorite color, noticeably in great britain, was green; the majority of them wore it, and grudged its adoption by a mortal. sir walter scott tells us that it was a fatal hue to several families in his country, to the entire gallant race of grahames in particular; for in battle a grahame was almost always shot through the green check of his plaid. french fairies went in white; the nis of jutland, and many other house-sprites, in red and gray, or red and brown; and the plump welsh goblins, whose holiday dress was also white, in the gayest and most varied tints of all. in north wales were "the old elves of the blue petticoat"; in cardiganshire was the familiar green again, though it was never seen save in the month of may; and in pembrokeshire, a uniform of jolly scarlet gowns and caps. the fairy gentlemen were quite as much given to finery as the ladies, and their general air was one of extreme cheerful dandyism. only the mine and ground-fairies were attired in sombre colors. indeed, their idea of clothes was delightfully liberal; an elf bespoke himself by what he chose to wear; and fashions ranged all the way from the sprites of the orkney islands, who strutted about in armor, to the little heinzelmänchen of cologne, who scorned to be burdened with so much as a hat! people accounted in strange ways for their origin. a legend, firmly held in iceland, says that once upon a time eve was washing a number of her children at a spring, and when the lord appeared suddenly before her, she hustled and hid away those who were not already clean and presentable; and that they being made forever invisible after, became the ancestors of the "little folk," who pervade the hills and caves and ruins to this day. in ireland and scotland fairies were spoken of as a wandering remnant of the fallen angels. the christian world over, they were deemed either for a while, or perpetually, to be locked out from the happiness of the blessed in the next world. the bretons thought their korrigans had been great gallic princesses, who refused the new faith, and clung to their pagan gods, and fell under a curse because of their stubbornness. the small people of cornwall, too, were imagined to be the ancient inhabitants of that country, long before christ was born, not good enough for heaven, and yet too good to be condemned altogether, whose fate it is to stray about, growing smaller and smaller, until by and by they vanish from the face of the earth. therefore the poor fairy-folk, with whom theology deals so rudely, were supposed to be tired waiting, and anxious to know how they might fare everlastingly; and they waylaid many mortals, who, of course, really could tell them nothing, to ask whether they might not get into heaven, by chance, at the end. it was their chief cause of doubt and melancholy, and ran in their little minds from year to year. and since we shall revert no more to the sad side of fairy-life, let us close with a most sweet story of something which happened in sweden, centuries ago. two boys were gambolling by a river, when a neck rose up to the air, smiling, and twanging his harp. the elder child watched him, and cried mockingly: "neck! what is the good of your sitting there and playing? you will never be saved!" and the neck's sensitive eyes filled with tears, and, dropping his harp, he sank forlornly to the bottom. but when the brothers had gone home, and told their wise and saintly father, he said they had been thoughtlessly unkind; and he bade them hurry back to the river, and comfort the little water-spirit. from afar off they saw him again on the surface, weeping bitterly. and they called to him: "dear neck! do not grieve; for our father says that your redeemer liveth also." then he threw back his bright head, and, taking his harp, sang and played with exceeding gladness until sunset was long past, and the first star sent down its benediction from the sky. chapter ii. fairy rulers. the forming of character among the fairy-folk was a very simple and sensible matter. you will imagine that the pagan, druid and christian elves varied greatly. and they did; still their morals had nothing to do with it, nor pride, nor patriotism, nor descent, nor education; nor would all the philosophy you might crowd into a thimble have made one bee-big resident of japan different from a man of his own size in spain. they saved themselves no end of trouble by setting up the local barometer as their standard. the only bible they knew was the weather, and they followed it stoutly. whatever the climate was, whatever it had helped to make the grown-up nation who lived under it, that, every time, were the "brownies and bogles." where the land was rocky and grim, and subject to wild storms and sudden darknesses, the fairies were grim and wild too, and full of wicked tricks. where the landscape was level and green, and the crops grew peacefully, they were tame, as in central england, and inclined to be sentimental. and they copied the distinguishing traits of the race among whom they dwelt. a frugal breton fairy spoke the breton dialect; the neapolitan had a tooth for fruits and macaroni; the chinese was ceremonious and stern; a true provençal fée was as vain as a peacock, flirting a mirror before her, and an irish elf, bless his little red feathered caubeen! was never the man to run away from a fight. if you look on the map, and see a section of coast-line like that of cornwall or norway, a sunshiny, perilous, foamy place, make up your mind that the fairies thereabouts were fellows worth knowing; that you would have needed all your wit and pluck to get the better of them, and that they would have made live, hearty playmates, too, while in good humor, for any brave boy or girl. we do not know nearly so much about the genuine fairies as we should like. they must have been, at one time or another, in every european country. most of the oriental spirits were taller, and of another brood; they figured either as demons, or as what we should now call angels. but in the germanic colonies, from very old days, fairy-lore was finely developed, and we count up tribe on tribe of necks, nixies, stromkarls and mermaids, who were water-sprites; of bergmännchen (little men of the mountain), and lovely wild-women in hilly places; of trolls around the woods and rocks; of elves in the air, and gnomes or duergars in caverns or mines. yet from portugal, and russia, and hungary, and from our own north american indians, we learn so little that it is not worth counting. if the good dear peasants who were acquainted with the fairies had made more rhymes about them, and handed them down more attentively; if it had occurred to the knowing scholar-monks to keep diaries of elfin doings, as it would have done had they but known how soon their little friends were to be extinct, like the glyptodon and the dodo, how wise should we not be! [illustration: the neapolitan fairy.] but again, though there were hosts of supernatural beings in the beliefs of every old land, we have no business with any but the wee ones. and as these were settled most thickly in the teutonic, celtic and cymric countries, we will turn our curiosity thither, without farther grumbling, and be glad to get so much authentic news of them as we may. fairies, as a whole, seem at bottom rather weak and disconsolate. for all of their magic and cunning, for all of their high station, and its feasting and glory, they could not keep from seeking human sympathy. they did, indeed, hurt men, resent intrusions, foretell the future, and call down disease and storm, but they stood in awe of the weakest mortal because of his superior strength and size; they came to him to borrow food and medicine, and even to ask the loan of his house for their revels. they rendered themselves invisible, but he had always at his feet the fern-seed, the talisman of four-leaved clover (or, as in scotland, the leaf of the ash or rowan-tree), with which he could defeat their design, and protect himself against the attacks of any witch, imp, or fairy whatsoever. their government was a happy-go-lucky affair. the various tribes of fairies had no common interests which would make them sigh for post-offices, or cables, or general synods. each set of them got along, independent of the rest. once in a while a mine-man would live alone with his wife, pegging away at his daily work, without any idea of hurrahing for his king or, more likely, his queen; or even of hunting up his own cousins in the next county. if we had elves in the united states nowadays, they would no doubt be american enough to elect a president and have him as honest, and steady, and sound-hearted as needs be. but dwelling as they did in feudal days, they set up thrones and sceptres all over fairydom. according to the poets, mab and oberon are the crowned rulers of the little people. in reality, they had no supreme head. among many parties and factions, each small agreeing community had its own chief, the tallest of his race, who was no chief at all, mind you, to the fairy neighbors a mile east. the delicate yellow chinese fairy-mother was si wang mu; and in the netherlands, the elf-queen, who was also queen of the witches, was called wanne thekla. we snatch an item here and there of the royal histories. we find that the sweet-natured elberich in the niebelungen is the same as oberon. in germany was a dwarf-king named goldemar, who lived with a knight, shared his bed, played at dice with him, gave him good advice, called him brother-in-law very fondly, and comforted him with the music of his harp. but goldemar, though the knight loved him and could touch and feel him, was unseen. he was like a wreath of blue smoke, or a fragment of moonlight, and you could run a sword through him, and never change his kind smile. his royal hands were lean, and soft, and cold as a frog's. after three years, perhaps when brother-in-law was dead, or when he was married, and needed him no longer, the gentle dwarf-king disappeared. sinnels, gübich, and heiling were other dwarf-princes, probably rivals of goldemar, and ready to have at him till their breath gave out. their little majesties were quarrelsome as cock-sparrows. the elf-monarch laurîn was once conquered by theodoric; and because he had been treacherous in war (which was not "fair" at all, despite the proverb), he got a very sad rebuff to his dignity, in being made fool or buffoon at the court of bern. [illustration: the elf-monarch who was made court-fool.] we are told in the mabinogion how the daughter of llud llaw ereint was "the most splendid maiden in the three islands of the mighty," and how for her gwyn ap nudd, the welsh fairy-king, battles every may-day from dawn until sunset. gwyn once carried her off from gwythyr, her true lord; and both lovers were so furious and cruel against each other that blessed king arthur condemned them to wage bitter fight on each first-of-may till the world's end; and to whomsoever is victorious the greatest number of times, the fair lady shall then be given. let us hope the reward will not fall to thieving gwyn. we have said that we should do pretty much as we pleased in ranging the myriad fairy-folk into ranks and species. if, as we prowl about, we see a baby in the house of the elfsmiths, who has a look of the elfbrowns, we will immediately kidnap him from his fond parents, and add him to the family he resembles. now that might make wailing and confusion, and bring down vengeance on our heads, if there were any queen mab left to rap us to order; but as things go, we shall find it a very neat way of smoothing difficulties. [illustration: the isle of rügen dwarves that give presents to children.] of course there are certain pigwidgeons too accomplished, too slippery, too many things in one, to be ticketed and tied down like the rest; such versatile fellows as the brown dwarves of the isle of rügen, for instance. they lived in what were called the vine-hills, and were not quite eighteen inches high. they wore little snuff-brown jackets and a brown cap (which made them invisible, and allowed them to pass through the smallest keyhole), with one wee silver bell at its peak, not to be lost for any money. but they did some roguish things; and children who fell into their hands had to serve them for fifty years! with caprice usual to their kin, they will, on other occasions, befriend and protect children, and give them presents; or plague untidy servants, like brownie, or lead travellers astray by night into bogs and marshes, like the ellydan and the fir-darrig, and mischievous double-faced robin goodfellow himself. an ancient tradition says that while the grass-blades are sprouting at the root, the earth-elves water and nourish them; and the moment the growth pierces the soil, affectionate air-elves take it in charge. therefore we borrow a hint from the grass; and after first going down among the swarthy fairies who burrow underground, we shall pass up to companionship with little beings so beautiful that wherever they flock there is starlight and song. chapter iii. the black elves. according to the very old scandinavian notion, land-fairies were of two sorts; the light or good elves who dwelt in air, or out-of-doors on the earth, and the black or evil elves who dwelt beneath it. we will follow the norse folk. if we were required to group human beings under two headings, we should choose that same good and evil, because the division occurs to one naturally, because it saves time, and because everybody comprehends it, and sees that it is based upon law; and so do we deal with our wonder-friends, who have the strange moral sorcery belonging to each of us their masters, to help or to harm. the evil fairies, then, were the scowling underground tribes, who hid themselves from the frank daylight, and the open reaches of the fields. yet just as the good fairies had many a sad failing to offset their grace and charm, the grim, dark-skinned manikins had sudden impulses towards honor and kindness. in fact, as we noted before, they were astonishingly like our fellow-creatures, of whom scarce any is entirely faultless, or entirely warped and ruined. for instance, the hill-men, in switzerland, were very generous-minded; they drove home stray lambs at night, and put berry-bushes in the way of poor children. and the more modern dwarves of germany, frequenting the clefts of rocks, were silent, mild, and well-disposed, and apt to bring presents to those who took their fancy. like others of the elf-kingdom, they loved to borrow from mortals. once a little bowing dwarf came to a lady for the loan of her silk gown for a fairy-bride. (you can imagine that, at the ceremony, the groom must have had a pretty hunt among the wilderness of finery to get at her ring-finger!) of course the lady gave it; but worrying over its tardy return, she went to the dwarves' hill and asked for it aloud. a messenger with a sorrowful countenance brought it to her at once, spotted over and over with wax. but he told her that had she been less impatient every stain would have been a diamond! [illustration: the dwarf that borrowed the silk gown.] the huge, terrible, ogre-like hindoo rakshas, the weird divs and jinns of persia, and the ancient demon-dwarves of the south called panis, may be considered the foster-parents of our dwindled minims, as the glorious peris on the other hand gave their name, and some of their qualities, to a little european family of very different ancestry. the black elves will serve as our general name for dwarves and mine-fairies. these are closely connected in all legends, live in the same neighborhoods, and therefore claim a mention together. they have four points in common: dark skin; short, bulky bodies; fickle and irritable natures; and occupations as miners, misers, or metalsmiths. and because of their exceeding industry, on the old maxim's authority, where all work and no play made jack a dull boy, they are curiously heavy-headed and preposterous jacks; and, waiving their plain faces, not in any wise engaging. yet perhaps, being largely german, they may be philosophers, and so vastly superior to any little gabbling, somersaulting ragamuffin over in ireland. in the middle ages, they were described as withered and leering, with small, sharp, snapping black eyes, bright as gems; with cracked voices, and matted hair, and horns peering from it! and as if that were not enough adornment, they had claws, which must have been filched from the ghosts of mediæval pussy-cats, on their fingers and toes. the first duergars belonging to the gotho-german mythology, were muscular and strong-legged; and when they stood erect, their arms reached to the ground. they were clever and expert handlers of metal, and made of gold, silver and iron, the finest armor in the world. they wrought for odin his great spear, and for thor his hammer, and for frey the wondrous ship _skidbladnir_. long ago, too, armor-making elves, black as pitch, lived in svart-alfheim, in the bowels of the earth, and were able, by their glance or touch or breath, to cause sickness and death wheresoever they wished. [illustration: the black dwarves of rügen planning mischief.] still uglier were the black dwarves of the mysterious isle of rügen; nor had they any frolicsome or cordial ways which should bring up our opinion of them. their pale eyes ran water, and every midnight they mewed and screeched horribly from their holes. in idle summer-hours they sat under the elder-trees, planning by twos and threes to wreak mischief on mankind. they, as well, were once useful, if not beautiful; for in the days when heroes wore a panoply of steel, the black dwarves wrought fair helmets and corselets of cobwebby mail which no lance could pierce, and swords flexible as silk which could unhorse the mightiest foe. the little blackamoors frequented mining districts, and dug for ore on their own account. they were said to be very rich, owning unnumbered chests stored underground. the most exciting tales about gnomes of all nations were founded on the efforts of daring mortals to get possession of their wealth. to the mining division belong the dwarf-trolls of denmark and sweden (for there were giant-trolls as well), and the whimsical spriggans of cornwall. the trolls burrowed in mounds and hills, and were called also bjerg-folk or hill-folk; they lived in societies or families, baking and brewing, marrying and visiting, in the old humdrum way. they made fortunes, and hoarded up heaps of money. but they were often obliging and benevolent; it gave them pleasure to bestow gifts, to lend and borrow, and sometimes, alas! to steal. they played prettily on musical instruments, and were very jolly. people used to see the stumpy little children of the genteel troll who lived at kund in jutland, climbing up the knoll which was the roof of their own house, and rolling down one after the other with shouts of laughter. the trolls were famous gymnasts, and very plump and round. our word "droll" is left to us in merry remembrance of them. [illustration: the troll's children.] they were tractable creatures, as you may know from the tale of the farmer, who, ploughing an angry troll's land, agreed, for the sake of peace, to go halves in the crops sown upon it, so that one year the troll should have what grew above ground, and the next year what grew under. but the sly farmer planted radishes and carrots, and the troll took the tops; and the following season he planted corn; and his queer partner gathered up the roots and marched off in triumph. indeed, it was so easy to outwit the simple troll that a generous farmer would never have played the game out, and we should have lost our little story. it was mean to take advantage of the sweet fellow's trustfulness. there was an english schoolmaster once, a man wise, firm, and kind, and of vast influence, of whom one of his boys said to another: "it's a shame to tell a lie to arnold; he always believes it." that was a ray of real chivalry. the spriggans were fond of dwelling near walls and loose stones, with which it was unlucky to tamper, and where they slipped in and out with suspicious eyes, guarding their buried treasure. if a house was robbed, or the cattle were carried away, or a hurricane swooped down on a cornish village, the neighbors attributed their trouble to the spriggans; whereby you may believe they had fine reputations for meddlesomeness. their cousins, the buccas, bockles or knockers, were gentlemen who went about thumping and rapping wherever there was a vein of ore for the weary workmen, cheating, occasionally, to break the monotony. [illustration: a coblynau.] the welsh coblynau followed the same profession, and pointed out the desired places in mines and quarries. the coblynau were copper-colored, and very homely, as were all the pigmies who lived away from the sun; they were busybodies, half-a-yard high, who imitated the dress of their friends the miners, and pegged away at the rocks, like them, with great noise and gusto, accomplishing nothing. their houses were far-removed from mortal vision, and unlike certain proper children, now obsolete, the coblynau themselves were generally heard, but not seen. their german relation was the wichtlein (little wight) an extremely small fellow, whom the bohemians named hans-schmiedlein (little john smith!) because he makes a noise like the stroke of an anvil. dwarves and mine-men went about, unfailingly, with a purseful of gold. but if anyone snatched it from them, only stones and twine and a pair of scissors were to be found in it. the leprechaun, or cluricaune, whom we shall meet later as the fairy-cobbler, was an irish celebrity who knew where pots of guineas were hidden, and who carried in his pocket a shilling often-spent and ever-renewed. he looked, in this banker-like capacity, a clumsy small boy, dressed in various ways, sometimes in a long coat and cocked hat, unlike the danish troll, who kept to homely gray, with the universal little red cap. even the respectable kobold, who was, virtually, a house-spirit, caught the fever of fortune-hunting, and often threw up his domestic duties to seek the fascinating nuggets in the mines. there is a funny anecdote of a troll who, as was common with his race, cunningly concealed his prize under the shape of a coal. now a peasant on his way to church one bright sunday morning saw him trying vainly to move a couple of crossed straws which had blown upon his coal; for anything in the shape of a cross seemed to shrivel up an elf's power in the most startling manner. so the little sprite turned, half-crying, and begged the peasant to move the straws for him. but the man was too shrewd for that, and took up the coal, straws and all, and ran, despite the poor troll's screaming, and saw, on reaching home, that he had captured a lump of solid gold. all black elves were particular about their neighborhoods, and a whole colony would migrate at once if they took the least offence, or if the villagers about got "too knowing" for them. (an american poet once wrote a sonnet "to science," in which he berated her for having made him "too knowing," and for having driven --"the naiad from her flood the elfin from the green grass"; and it was in consequence of his very knowingness, no doubt, that, beauty-loving and marvel-loving as were his sensitive eyes, they never saw so much as the vanishing shadow of a fairy.) a little dwarf-woman told two young bavarians that she intended to leave her favorite dwelling, because of the shocking cursing and swearing of the country-people! but they were not all so godly. [illustration: "i can't stay any longer!"] ever since the great god thor threw his hammer at the trolls, they have hated noise as much as mr. thomas carlyle, who, however, made thor's own bluster in the world himself. they sought sequestered places that they might not be disturbed. the prussian mites near dardesheim were frightened away by the forge and the factory. above all else, church-bells distressed them, and spoiled their tempers. a huckster once passed a danish troll, sitting disconsolately on a stone, and asked him what the matter might be. "i hate to leave this country," blubbered the fat mourner, "but i can't stay where there is such an eternal ringing and dinging!" chapter iv. the light elves. over the beautiful light elves of the _edda_, in old scandinavia, ruled the beloved sun-god frey; and they lived in a summer land called alfheim, and it was their office to sport in air or on the leaves of trees, and to make the earth thrive. but they changed character as centuries passed; and they came to resemble the fairies of great britain in their extreme waywardness and fickleness. for though they were fair and benevolent most of the time, they could be, when it so pleased them, ugly and hurtful; and what they could be, they very often were; for fairies were not expected to keep a firm rein on their moods and tempers. norwegian peasants described some of their huldrafolk as tiny bare boys, with tall hats; and in sweden, as well, they were slender and delicate. when a swedish elf-maid or moon-maid wished to approach the inmates of a house, she rode on a sunbeam through the keyhole, or between the openings in a shutter. the german wild-women were like them, going about alone, and having fine hair flowing to their feet. they had some odd traits, one of which was sermonizing! and exhorting stray mortals who had done them a service, to lead a godly life. the elle-maid in denmark and in neighboring countries was always winsome and graceful, and carried an enchanted harp. she loved moonlight best, and was a charming dancer. but her evil element was in her very beauty, with which she entrapped foolish young gentlemen, and waylaid them, and carried them off who knows whither? she could be detected by the shape of her back, it being hollow, like a spoon; which was meant to show that there was something wrong with her, and that she was not what she seemed, but fit only for the abhorrence of passers-by. the elle-man, her mate, was old and ill-favored, a disagreeable person; for if any one came near him while he was bathing in the sun, he opened his mouth and breathed pestilence upon them. [illustration: an elle-maid, of denmark.] [illustration: bertha, the white lady.] a common trait of the air-fairies was to assist at a birth and give the infant, at their will, good and bad gifts. dame bertha, the white lady of germany, came to the birth of certain princely babes, and the korrigans made it a general practice. whenever they nursed or tended a new-born mortal, bestowed presents on him and foretold his destiny, one of the little people was almost always perverse enough to bestow and foretell something unfortunate. you all know grimm's beautiful tale of dornröschen, which in english we call the sleeping beauty, where the jealous thirteenth fairy predicts the poor young lady's spindle-wound. around the famous roche des fées in the forest of theil, are those who believe yet that the elves pass in and out at the chimneys, on errands to little children. the modern greek fairies haunted trees, danced rounds, bathed in cool water, and carried off whomsoever they coveted. a person offending them in their own fields was smitten with disease. the chinese shan sao were a foot high, lived among the mountains, and were afraid of nothing. they, too, were revengeful; for if they were attacked or annoyed by mortals, they "caused them to sicken with alternate heat and cold." bonfires were burnt to drive them away. the innocent white dwarves of the isle of rügen in the baltic sea, made lace-work of silver, too fine for the eye to detect, all winter long; but came idly out into the woods and fields with returning spring, leaping and singing, and wild with affectionate joy. they were not allowed to ramble about in their own shapes; therefore they changed themselves to doves and butterflies, and winged their way to good mortals, whom they guarded from all harm. [illustration: some greek fairies.] the korrigans of brittainy, mentioned a while ago, were peculiar in many ways. they had beautiful singing voices and bright eyes, but they never danced. they preferred to sit still at twilight, like mermaids, combing their long golden hair. the tallest of them was nearly two feet high, fair as a lily, and transparent as dew itself, yet able as the rest to seem dark, and humpy, and terrifying. he who passed the night with them, or joined in their sports, was sure to die shortly, since their very breath or touch was fatal. and again, as in the case of seigneur nann, about whom a touching breton ballad was made, they doomed to death any who refused to marry one of them within three days. of the american indian fairies we do not know much. in mr. schoolcraft's books of indian legends there is a beautiful little bone-dwarf, who may almost be considered a fairy. in the land of the sioux they tell the pretty story of antelope and karkapaha, and how the wee warrior-folk, thronging on the hill, clad in deerskin, and armed with feathered arrow and spear, put the daring heart of a slain enemy into the breast of the timid lover, karkapaha, and made him worthy both to win and keep his lovely maiden, and to deserve homage for his bravery, from her tribe and his. some of you will remember one thing against the puk-wudjies, which is an algonquin name meaning "little vanishing folk," to wit: that they killed hiawatha's friend, "the very strong man kwasind," as our longfellow called him. he had excited their envy, and they flung on his head, as he floated in his canoe, the only thing on earth that could kill him, the seed-vessel of the white pine. the scotch, irish and english overground fairies were, as a general thing, very much alike. they had the power of becoming visible or invisible, compressing or enlarging their size, and taking any shape they pleased. when an irish shefro was disturbed or angry, and wanted to get a house or a person off her grounds, she put on the strangest appearances: she could crow, spit fire, slap a tail or a hoof about, grin like a dragon, or give a frightful, weird, lion-like roar. of course the object of her polite attentions thought it best to oblige her. if she and her companions were anxious to enter a house, they lifted the spryest of their number to the keyhole, and pushed him through. he carried a piece of string, which he fastened to the inside knob, and the other end to a chair or stool; and over this perilous bridge the whole giggling tribe marched in one by one. the irish and scotch fays were more mischievous than the english, but have not fared so well, having had no memorable verses made about them. the little scots were sometimes dwarfish wild creatures, wrapped in their plaids, or, oftener, comely and yellow-haired; the ladies in green mantles, inlaid with wild-flowers; and dapper little gentlemen in green trousers, fastened with bobs of silk. they carried arrows, and went on tiny spirited horses, as did the welsh fairies, "the silver bosses of their bridles jingling in the night-breeze." an old account of scotland says that they were "clothed in green, with dishevelled hair floating over their shoulders, and faces more blooming than the vermeil blush of a summer morning." their welsh cousins were many. a native poet once sang of them: ----in every hollow, a hundred wry-mouthed elves. they were queer little beings, and had notions of what was decorous, for they combed the goats' beards every friday night, "to make them decent for sunday!" they were very quarrelsome; you could hear them snarling and jabbering like jays among themselves, so that in some parts of wales a proverb has arisen: "they can no more agree than the fairies!" the inhabitants believed that the midgets never had courage to go through the gorse, or prickly furze, which is a common shrub in that country. one sick old woman who was bothered by the tylwyth teg ("the fair family") souring her milk and spilling her tea, used to choke up her room with the furze, and make such a hedge about the bed, that nothing larger than a needle could be so much as pointed at her. in breconshire the tylwyth teg gave loaves to the peasantry, which, if they were not eaten then and there in the dark, would turn in the morning into toadstools! when welsh fairies took it into their heads to bestow food and money, very lazy people were often supported in great style, without a stroke of work. and the tylwyth teg loved to reward patience and generosity. they played the harp continuously, and, on grand occasions, the bugle; but if a bagpipe was heard among them, that indicated a scotch visitor from over the border. king james i. of england mentions in his _dæmonology_ a "king and queene of phairie: sic a jolie courte and traine as they had!" nothing could have exceeded the state and elegance of their ceremonious little lives. according to a sweet old play, they had houses made all of mother-of-pearl, an ivory tennis-court, a nutmeg parlor, a sapphire dairy-room, a ginger hall; chambers of agate, kitchens of crystal, the jacks of gold, the spits of spanish needles! they dressed in imported cobweb! with a four-leaved clover, lined with a dog-tooth violet, for overcoat; and they ate (think of eating such a pretty thing!) delicious rainbow-tart, the trout-fly's gilded wing, and ----the broke heart of a nightingale o'ercome with music. but we never heard that chinese or scandinavian elves could afford such luxury. their english dwellings were often in the bubble-castles of sunny brooks; and the bright-jacketed hobgoblins took their pleasure sitting under toadstools, or paddling about in egg-shell boats, playing jew's-harps large as themselves. beside the freehold of blossomy hillocks and dingles, they had dells of their own, and palaces, with everything lovely in them; and whatever they longed for was to be had for the wishing. they had fair gardens in clefts of the cornish rocks, where vari-colored flowers, only seen by moonlight, grew; in these gardens they loved to walk, tossing a posy to some mortal passing by; but if he ever gave it away they were angry with him forever after. they liked to fish; and the crews put out to sea in funny uniforms of green, with red caps. they travelled on a fern, a rush, a bit of weed, or even boldly bestrode the bee and the dragon-fly; and they went to the chase, as in the isle of man, on full-sized horses whenever they could get them! and when it came to time of war, their armies laid-to like alexander's own, with mushroom-shield and bearded grass-blades for mighty spears, and honeysuckle trumpets braying furiously! there are traditions of battles so vehement and long that the cavalry trampled down the dews of the mountain-side, and sent many a peerless fellow, at every charge, to the fairy hospitals and cemeteries. [illustration: an elf-traveller.] their chief and all but universal amusement, sacred to moonlight and music, was dancing hand-in-hand; and what was called a fairy-ring was the swirl of grasses in a field taller and deeper green than the rest, which was supposed to mark their circling path. inside these rings it was considered very dangerous to sleep, especially after sundown. if you put your foot within them, with a companion's foot upon your own, the elfin tribe became visible to you, and you heard their tinkling laughter; and if, again, you wished a charm to defy all their anger, for they hated to be overlooked by mortal eyes, you had merely to turn your coat inside out. but a house built where the wee folks had danced was made prosperous. hear how deftly old john lyly, nearly four hundred years ago, put the dancing in his lines: round about, round about, in a fine ring-a, thus we dance, thus we prance, and thus we sing-a! trip and go, to and fro, over this green-a; all about, in and out, for our brave queen-a. for the elves, as we know, were governed generally by a queen, who bore a white wand, and stood in the centre while her gay retainers skipped about her. fairy-rings were common in every irish parish. at alnwick in northumberland county in england, was one celebrated from antiquity; and it was believed that evil would befall any who ran around it more than nine times. the children were constantly running it that often; but nothing could tempt the bravest of them all to go one step farther. in france, as in wales, the fairies guarded the cromlechs with care, and preferred to hold revel near them. at these merry festivals, in the pauses of action, meat and drink were passed around. a danish ballad tells how svend-fälling drained a horn presented by elf-maids, which made him as strong as twelve men, and gave him the appetite of twelve men, too; a natural but embarrassing consequence. it used to be proclaimed that any one daring enough to rush on a fairy feast, and snatch the drinking-glass, and get away with it, would be lucky henceforward. the famous goblet, the luck of edenhall, was seized after that fashion, by one of the musgraves; whereat the little people disappeared, crying aloud: if that glass do break or fall, farewell the luck of edenhall! once upon a time the duke of wharton dined at edenhall, and came very near ruining his host, and all his race; for the precious luck slipped from his hand; but the clever butler at his elbow happily caught it in his napkin, and averted the catastrophe: so the beautiful cup and the favored family enjoy each other in security to this day. in the song of sir olaf, we are told how he fell in, while riding by night, with the whirling elves; and how, after their every plea and threat that he should stay from his to-be-wedded sweetheart at home, and dance, instead, with them, he hears the weird french refrain: o the dance, the dance! how well the dance goes under the trees! and through their wicked magic, after all his steadfast resistance, with the wild music and the dizzy measure whirling in his brain, there he dies. all the gay, unsteady, fantastic motion broke up at the morning cock-crow, and instantly the little bacchantes vanished. and, strangest of all! the betraying flash of the dawn showed their peach-like color, their blonde, smooth hair, and bodily agility changed, like a dead sea apple, and turned into ugliness and distortion! it was not the lovely vision of a minute back which hurried away on the early breeze, but a crowd of leering, sullen-eyed bugaboos, laughing fiercely to think how they had deceived a beholder. these, then, were the light elves, not all lovable, or loyal, or gentle, as they were expected to be, but cruel to wayfarers like poor sir olaf, and treacherous and mocking; beautiful so long as they were good, and hideous when they had done a foul deed. it is hard to say wherein they were better than the underground elves, who were, despite some kindly characteristics, professional doers of evil, and had not the choice or chance of being so happy and fortunate. but we record them as we find them, not without the sobering thought that here, as at every point, the fairies are a running commentary on the puzzle of our own human life. chapter v. dear brownie. brownie, the willing drudge, the kind little housemate, was the most popular of all fairies; and it is he whom we now love and know best. he was a sweet, unselfish fellow; but very wide awake as well, full of mischief, and spirited as a young eagle, when he was deprived of his rights. he belonged to a tribe of great influence and size, and each division of that tribe, inhabiting different countries, bore a different name. but the word brownie, to english-speaking people, will serve as meaning those fairies who attached themselves persistently to any spot or any family, and who labored in behalf of their chosen home. the brownie proper belonged to the shetland and the western isles, to cornwall, and the highlands and borderlands of scotland. he was an indoor gentleman, and varied in that from our friends the black and light elves. he took up his dwelling in the house or the barn, sometimes in a special corner, or under the roof, or even in the cellar pantries, where he ate a great deal more than was good for him. in the beginning he was supposed to have been covered with short curly brown hair, like a clipped water-spaniel, whence his name. but he changed greatly in appearance. later accounts picture him with a homely, sunburnt little face, as if bronzed with long wind and weather; dark-coated, red-capped, and shod with noiseless slippers, which were as good as wings to his restless feet. along with him, in scotch houses, and in english houses supplanting him, often lived the dobie or dobbie who was not by any means so bright and active ("o, ye stupid dobie!" runs a common phrase), and therefore not to be confounded with him. [illustration: brownie's delight was to do domestic service.] brownie's delight was to do domestic service; he churned, baked, brewed, mowed, threshed, swept, scrubbed, and dusted; he set things in order, saved many a step to his mistress, and took it upon himself to manage the maid-servants, and reform them, if necessary, by severe and original measures. neatness and precision he dearly loved, and never forgot to drop a penny over-night in the shoe of the person deserving well of him. but lax offenders he pinched black and blue, and led them an exciting life of it. his favorite revenge, among a hundred equally ingenious, was dragging the disorderly servant out of bed. a great poet announced in brownie's name: 'twixt sleep and wake i do them take, and on the key-cold floor them throw! if out they cry then forth i fly, and loudly laugh i: "ho, ho, ho!" like all gnomes truly virtuous, he could be the worst varlet, the most meddlesome, troublesome, burdensome urchin to be imagined, when the whim was upon him. at such times he gloried in undoing all his good deeds; and by way of emphasizing his former tidiness and industry, he tore curtains, smashed dishes, overturned tables, and made havoc among the kitchen-pans. all this was done in a sort of holy wrath; for be it to brownie's credit, that if he were treated with courtesy, and if the servants did their own duties honestly, he was never other than his gentle, well-behaved, hard-working little self. he asked no wages; he had a new england scorn of "tipping," when he had been especially obliging; and he could not be wheedled into accepting even so much as a word of praise. a farmer at washington, in sussex, england, who had often been surprised in the morning at the large heaps of corn threshed for him during the night, determined at last to sit up and watch what went on. creeping to the barn-door, and peering through a chink, he saw two manikins working away with their fairy flails, and stopping an instant now and then, only to say to each other: "see how i sweat! see how i sweat!" the very thing which befell milton's "lubbar fiend" in l'allegro. the farmer, in his pleasure, cried: "well done, my little men!" whereupon the startled sprites uttered a cry, and whirled and whisked out of sight, never to toil again in his barn. it is said that not long ago, there was a whole tribe of tiny, naked kobolds (brownie's german name) called heinzelmänchen, who bound themselves for love to a tailor of cologne, and did, moreover, all the washing and scouring and kettle-cleaning for his wife. whatever work there was left for them to do was straightway done; but no man ever beheld them. the tailor's prying spouse played many a ruse to get sight of them, to no avail. and they, knowing her curiosity and grieved at it, suddenly marched, with music playing, out of the town forever. people heard their flutes and viols only, for none saw the little exiles themselves, who got into a boat, and sailed "westward, westward!" like hiawatha, and the city's luck is thought to have gone with them. but brownie, who would take neither money, nor thanks, nor a glance of mortal eyes, and who departed in high dudgeon as soon as a reward was offered him, could be bribed very prettily, if it were done in a polite and secretive way. he was not too scrupulous to pocket whatever might be dropped on a stair, or a window-sill, where he was sure to pass several times in a day, and walk off, whistling, to keep his own counsel, and say nothing about it. and for goodies, mysterious goodies left in queer places by chance, he had excellent tooth. housewives, from the era of the first brownie, never failed slyly to gladden his favorite haunt with the dish which he liked best, and which, so long as it was fresh and plentiful, he considered a satisfactory squaring-up of accounts. one of these desired treats was knuckled cakes, made of meal warm from the mill, toasted over the embers, and spread with honey. to other tidbits, also, he was partial; but, first and last, he relished his bowl of cream left on the floor overnight. cream he drank and expected the world over; and in devon, and in the isle of man, he liked a basin of water for a bath. [illustration: brownie relishes his bowl of cream.] fine clothes were quite to his mind; he was very vain when he had them; and it was what pet marjorie called "majestick pride," and no whim of anger or sensitiveness, which sent him hurrying off the moment his wardrobe was supplied by some grateful housekeeper, to eschew work forever after, and set himself up as a gentleman of leisure. many funny stories are told of his behavior under an unexpected shower of dry goods. brownie, who in his humble station, was so steadfast and sensible, had his poor head completely turned by the vision of a new bright-colored jacket. the gentle little piskies or pixies of devonshire, who are of the brownie race, and very different from the malicious piskies in cornwall, were likewise great dandies, and sure to decamp as soon as ever they obtained a fresh cap or petticoat. indeed, they dropped violent hints on the subject. think of a sprite-of-all-work, recorded as being too proud to accept any regular payment even in fruit or grain, standing up brazenly before his mistress, his sly eyes fixed on her, drawling out this absurd, whimpering rhyme (for piskies scorned to talk prose!): little pisky, fair and slim, without a rag to cover him! with his lisp, and his funny snicker, and his winning impudence generally, don't you think he could have wheedled clothes out of a stone? of course the lady humored him, and made him a costly, trimmed suit; and the ungrateful small beggar made off with it post-haste, chanting to another tune: pisky fine, pisky gay! pisky now will run away. the moment the brownie-folk could cut a respectable figure in fashionable garments, they turned their backs on an honest living, and skurried away to astonish the belles in fairyland. very much the same thing befell some german house-dwarves, who used to help a poor smith, and make his kettles and pans for him. they took their milk evening by evening, and went back gladly to their work, to the smith's great profit and pleasure. when he had grown rich, his thankful wife made them pretty crimson coats and caps, and laid both where the wee creatures might stumble on them. but when they had put the uniforms on, they shrieked "paid off, paid off!" and, quitting a task half-done, returned no more. the pisky was not alone in his bold request for his sordid little heart's desire. a certain pück lived thirty years in a monastery in mecklenburg, germany, doing faithful drudgery from his youth up; and one of the monks wrote, in his ingenious latin, that on going away, all he asked was "_tunicam de diversis coloribus, et tintinnabulis plenam!_" you may put the goblin's vanity into english for yourselves. brownie is known as shelley-coat in parts of scotland, from a german term meaning bell, as he wears a bell, like the rügen dwarves, on his parti-colored coat. [illustration: "_tunicam de diversis coloribus, et tintinnabulis plenam!_" was all that pück demanded.] the famous cauld lad of hilton was considered a brownie. if everything was left well-arranged in the rooms, he amused himself by night with pitching chairs and vases about; but if he found the place in confusion, he kindly went to work and put it in exquisite order. but the cauld lad was, more likely, by his own confession, a ghost, and no true fairy. romances were told of him, and he had been heard to sing this canticle, which makes you wonder whether he had ever heard of the house that jack built: wae's me, wae's me! the acorn's not yet fallen from the tree that's to grow the wood that's to make the cradle that's to rock the bairn that's to grow to the man that's to lay me! it was only ghosts who could be "laid," and to "lay" him meant to give him freedom and release, so that he need no longer go about in that bareboned and mournful state. but the merriest grig of all the brownies was called in southern scotland, wag-at-the-wa'. he teased the kitchen-maids much by sitting under their feet at the hearth, or on the iron crook which hung from the beam in the chimney, and which, of old, was meant to accommodate pots and kettles. he loved children, and he loved jokes; his laugh was very distinct and pleasant; but if he heard of anybody drinking anything stronger than home-brewed ale, he would cough virtuously, and frown upon the company. now wag-at-the-wa' had the toothache all the time, and, considering his twinges, was it not good of him to be so cheerful? he wore a great red-woollen coat and blue trousers, and sometimes a grey cloak over; and he shivered even then, with one side of his poor face bundled up, till his head seemed big as a cabbage. he looked impish and wrinkled, too, and had short bent legs. but his beautiful, clever tail atoned for everything, and with it, he kept his seat on the swinging crook. [illustration: "wag-at-the-wa'."] scotch fairies called powries and dunters haunted lonely border-mansions, and behaved like peaceable subjects, beating flax from year to year. the dutch kaboutermannekin worked in mills, as well as in houses. he was gentle and kind, but "touchy," as brownie-people are. though he dressed gayly in red, he was not pretty, but boasted a fine green tint on his face and hands. little killmoulis was a mill-haunting brother of his, who loved to lie before the fireplace in the kiln. this precious old employee was blest with a most enormous nose, and with no mouth at all! but he had a great appetite for pork, however he managed to gratify it. boliéta, a swiss kobold, distinguished himself by leading cows safely through the dangerous mountain-paths, and keeping them sleek and happy. his branch of the family lived as often in the trunk of a near tree, as in the house itself. in denmark and sweden was the kirkegrim, the "church lamb," who sometimes ran along the aisles and the choir after service-time, and to the grave-digger betokened the death of a little child. but there was another kirkegrim, a proper church-brownie, who kept the pews neat, and looked after people who misbehaved during the sermon. as queer as any of these was the phynodderee, or the hairy one, the isle of man house-helper. he was a wild little shaggy being, supposed to be an exile from fairy society, and condemned to wander about alone until doomsday. he was kind and obliging, and drove the sheep home, or gathered in the hay, if he saw a storm coming. the klabautermann was a ship-brownie, who sat under the capstan, and in time of danger, warned the crew by running up and down the shrouds in great excitement. this eccentric flying dutchman had a fiery red head, and on it a steeple-like hat; his yellow breeches were tucked into heavy horseman's boots. hüttchen was a german brownie, who lived at court, but who dressed like a little peasant, with a flapping felt hat over his eyes. the alraun, a sort of house-imp shorn of all his engaging diligence, was very small, his body being made of a root; he lived in a bottle. if he was thrown away, back he came, persistently as a rubber ball. but that instinct was common to the brownie race. the roman penates, _vinculi terrei_, which brave old reginald scott called "domesticall gods," were brownie's venerable and honorable ancestors. we shall see presently what names their descendants bore in various countries. but the russian domovoi we shall not count among them, because they were ghostly, like the poor cauld lad, and seem to have been full-sized. chapter vi. other house-helpers. in modern greece the brownie was known as the stoechia. he was called para in finland; trasgo or duende in spain; lutin, gobelin, follet, in france and normandy; niss-god-drange in norway and denmark; tomte, in sweden; niss in jutland, denmark and friesland; bwbach or pwcca in wales; in ireland, fir-darrig and, sometimes, cluricaune; kobold, in germany; and in england, brownie figured as boggart, puck, hobgoblin, and robin goodfellow. often the stoechia, a wayward little black being, went about the house under the shape of a lizard or small snake. he was harmless; his presence was an omen of prosperity; and great care was taken that no disrespect was shown him. the services of the para, who was a well-meaning rascal, were rather singular, and not at all indispensable. he had a way of following the neighbor's cows to pasture, and milking them himself, in a calf's fashion, until he had swallowed quart on quart, and was as full as a little hogshead. then he went home, uncorked his thieving throat, and obligingly emptied every drop of his ill-gotten goods into his master's churn! how his feelings must have been hurt if anybody criticized the cheese and butter! the spanish house-goblin was a statelier person, and wore an enormous plumed hat, and threw stones in a stolid and haughty manner at people he disliked. but occasionally the duende had the form of a little busy friar, like the monachiello at naples. the lutin, or gobelin, or follet of french belief, was likewise a stone-thrower. he was fond of children, and of horses; taking it upon himself to feed and caress his landlord's children when they were good, and to whip them when they were naughty; and he rode the willing horses, and combed them, and plaited their manes into knotty braids, for which, we may fear, the stable-boy never thanked him. he knew, too, how to worry and tease; and certain french mothers threatened troublesome little folk with the "gobelin:" "_le gobelin vous mangera!_" which we may translate into: "the goblin will gobble you!" or into the whimsical lines of an american poet: the gobble uns'll git you, ef you don't watch out! the norwegian nis was like a strong-shouldered child, in a coat and peaky cap, who carried a pretty blue light at night. he enjoyed hopping or skating across the farmyard under the moon's ray. dogs he would not allow in his house. if he was first promised a gray sheep for his own, he would teach any one to play the violin. like many another of the brownie race, he was a dandy, and loved nothing better than fine clothes. tomte of sweden lived in a tree near the house. he was as tall as a year-old boy, with a knowing old face beneath his cap. in harvest-time he tugged away at one straw, or one grain, until he laid it in his master's barn; for his strength was not much greater than an ant's. if the farmer scorned his diligent little servant, and made fun of his tiny load, all luck departed from him, and the tomte went away in anger. he liked tobacco, played merry pranks, and doubled up comically when he laughed. but he had another laugh, scoffing and sarcastic, which he sometimes gave at the top of his voice. like the devon piskies, the niss-puk required water left at his disposal over-night. the nis of jutland was the puk of friesland. he also liked his porridge with butter. he lived under the roof, or in dark corners of the stable and house. he was of the tomte's size; he wore red stockings on his stumpy little legs, and a pointed red cap, and a long gray or green coat. for soft, easy slippers he had a great longing; and if a pair were left out for him, he was soon heard shuffling in them over the floor. he had long arms, and a big head, and big bright eyes, so that the people of silt have a saying concerning an inquisitive or astonished person: "he stares like a puk." puk, too, played sorry tricks on the servants, and was indignant if he was ever deprived of his nightly bowl of groute. the bwbach of wales churned the cream, and begged for his portion, like a true brownie; he was a hairy blackamoor with the best-natured grin in the world. but he had an unpleasant habit of whisking mortals into the air, and doing flighty mischiefs generally. [illustration: an irish cluricaune.] the unique irish cluricaune, who had that name in cork, was called luricaune and leprechaun in other parts of the country. he differed from the shefro in living alone, and in his queer appearance and habits. for though he was a house-spirit and did house-work, his ambitions ran in an opposite direction, and in his every spare minute, when he was not smoking or drinking, you might have seen him, a miniature old man, with a cocked hat, and a leather apron, sitting on a low stool, humming a fairy-tune, and perpetually cobbling at a pair of shoes no bigger than acorns. the shoes were occasionally captured and shown. and as we have seen, mr. cluricaune was a fortune-hunter, and a very wide-awake, versatile goblin altogether. in his capacity of brownie, he once wreaked a hard revenge on a maid who served him shabbily. a mr. harris, a quaker, had on his farm a cluricaune named little wildbeam. whenever the servants left the beer-barrel running through negligence, little wildbeam wedged himself into the cock, and stopped the flow, at great inconvenience to his poor little body, until some one came to turn the knob. so the master bade the cook always put a good dinner down cellar for little wildbeam. one friday she had nothing but part of a herring, and some cold potatoes, which she left in place of the usual feast. that very midnight the fat cook got pulled out of bed, and thrown down the cellar-stairs, bumping from side to side, so that it made her very sore indeed, and meanwhile the smirking cluricaune stood at the head of the steps, and sang at the luckless heap below: molly jones, molly jones! potato-skin and herring-bones! i'll knock your head against the stones, molly jones! in japanese houses, even, brownies were familiar comers and goers. they were important and smooth-mannered pigmies, and serenely dealt out rewards and punishments as they saw fit. when they were engaged in befriending commendable boys and girls, their features had, somehow, the ingenious likeness of letters signifying "good;" and if they made it their business to plague and hinder naughty idlers, who, instead of doing their errands promptly, stopped at the shops to buy goodies, their queer little faces were screwed up to mean "bad," as you see in japanese artists' pictures. [illustration: japanese children and brownies.] the english names for the affable brownie-folk bring to our minds the most wayward, frolicsome elves of all fairydom. boggart was the yorkshire sprite, and the boggart commonly disliked children, and stole their food and playthings; wherein he differed from his kindly kindred. hobgoblin (hop-goblin) was so called because he hopped on one leg. hobgoblin is the same as rob or bob-goblin, a goblin whose full name seemed to be robert. robin hood, the famous outlaw, dear to all of us, was thought to have been christened after robin hood the fairy, because he, too, was tricksy and sportive, wore a hood, and lived in the deep forest. [illustration: a little fir-darrig.] in ireland lived the mocking, whimsical little fir-darrig, robin goodfellow's own twin. he dressed in tight-fitting red; fir-darrig itself meant "the red man." he had big humorous ears, and the softest and most flexible voice in the world, which could mimic any sound at will. he sat by the fire, and smoked a pipe, big as himself, belonging to the man of the house. he loved cleanliness, brought good-luck to his abode, and, like a cat, generally preferred places to people. puck and robin goodfellow were the names best known and cherished. there is no doubt that shakespeare, from whom we have now our prevailing idea of puck, got the idea of him, in his turn, from the popular superstitions of his day. but puck's very identity was all but forgotten, and since shakespeare was, therefore, his poetical creator, we will forego mention of him here, and entitle robin goodfellow, the same "shrewd and meddling elf," under another nickname, the true brownie of england. he was both house-helper and mischief-maker, "the most active and extraordinary fellow of a fairy," says ritson, "that we anywhere meet with." he was said to have had a supplementary brother called robin badfellow; but there was no need of that, because he was robin badfellow in himself, and united in his whimsical little character so many opposite qualities, that he may be considered the representative elf the world over; for the old saxon hudkin, the niss of scandinavia, and knecht ruprecht, the robin of germany, are nothing but our masquerading goblin-friend on continental soil. and in the red-capped smiling mikumwess among the passamaquoddy indians, there he is again! by this name of robin he was known earlier than the thirteenth century, and "famosed in everie olde wives' chronicle for his mad merrie prankes," two hundred years later. his biography was put forth in a black-letter tract in 1628, and in a yet better-known ballad which recited his jests, and was in free circulation while queen bess was reigning. the forgotten annalist says very heartily, alluding to his string of aliases: but call him by what name you list; i have studied on my pillow, and think the name he best deserves is robin, the good fellow! we class him rightly as a brownie, because he skimmed milk, knew all about domestic life, and was the delight or terror of servants, as the case might be. he was fond of making a noise and clatter on the stairs, of playing harps, ringing bells, and misleading passing travellers; and despite his knavery, he came to be much beloved by his house-mates. very like him was the german hempelman, who laughed a great deal. but the laugh of master robin sometimes foreboded trouble and death to people, which hempelman's never did. the jolly german kobold had a laugh which filled his throat, and could be heard a mile away. bu he was a gnome malignant enough if he was neglected or insulted. he very seldom made a mine-sprite of himself, but stayed at home, brownie-like, and "ran" the house pretty much as he saw fit. to the dwarves he was, however, closely related, and dressed after their fashion, except that sometimes he wore a coat of as many colors as the rainbow, with tinkling bells fastened to it. he objected to any chopping or spinning done on a thursday. change of servants, while he held his throne in the kitchen, affected him not in the least; for the maid going away recommended her successor to treat him civilly, at her peril. a very remarkable kobold was hinzelmann, who called himself a christian, and came to the old castle of hüdemühlen in 1584; whose history, too long to add here, is given charmingly in mr. keightley's fairy mythology. a certain bearded little kobold lived with some fishermen in a hut, and tried a trick which was quite classic, and reminds one of the greek story of procrustes, which all of you have met with, or will meet with, some day. says mr. benjamin thorpe: "his chief amusement, when the fishermen were lying asleep at night, was to lay them even. for this purpose he would first draw them up until their heads all lay in a straight line, but then their legs would be out of the line! and he had to go to their feet and pull them up until the tips of their toes were all in a row. this game he would continue till broad daylight." now all brownies, nissen, kobolds and the rest, were very much of a piece, and when you know the virtues and faults of one of them, you know the habits of the race. so that you can understand, despite the slight but steady help given in household matters, that a person so variable and exacting and high-tempered as this curious little sprite might happen sometimes to be a great bore, and might inspire his master or mistress with the sighing wish to be rid of him. it was a tradition in normandy that to shake off the lutin or gobelin, it was merely necessary to scatter flax-seed where he was wont to pass; for he was too neat to let it lie there, and yet tired so soon of picking it up, that he left it in disgust, and went away for good. and there was a sprite named flerus who lived in a farm-house near ostend, and worked so hard, sweeping and drawing water, and turning himself into a plough-horse that he might replace the old horse who was sick, for no reward, either, save a little fresh sugared milk--that soon his master was the wealthiest man in the neighborhood. but a giddy young servant-maid once offended him, at the day's end, by giving him garlic in his milk; and as soon as poor flerus tasted it, he departed, very wrathful and hurt, from the premises, forever. there were few such successful instances on record. though brownie was ready, in every land under the sun, to leave home when he took the fancy, or when he was puffed up with gifts of lace and velvet, so that no mortal residence was gorgeous enough for him, yet he would take no hint, nor obey any command, when either pointed to a banishment. [illustration: the persistent kobold of köpenick.] near köpenick once, a man thought of buying a new house, and turning his back on a vexatious kobold. the morning before he meant to change quarters, he saw his kobold sitting by a pool, and asked him what he was doing. "i am doing my washing!" said the sharp rogue, "because we move to-morrow." and the man saw very well that as he could not avoid him, he had better take the little nuisance along. the same thing happened in the capital polish anecdote of iskrzycki (make your respects to his excruciating name!) and over northern europe the sarcastic joke "yes, we're flitting!" prevails in folk-song and story. there is many and many an example of families selling the old house, and going off in great glee with the furniture, thinking the elf-rascal cheated and left behind; and lo! there he was, perched on a rope, or peering from a hole in the cart itself, on his congratulated master. the funniest hap of all befell an ungrateful farmer who fired his barn to burn the poor kobold in it. as he was driving off, he turned to look at the blaze, and what should he see on the seat behind him but the same excited kobold, chattering, monkey-like, and shrieking sympathizingly: "it was about time for us to get out of that, wasn't it?" the dark-skinned little house-sprites came to stay; and as for being snubbed, they were quite above it. they were the sort of callers to whom you could never show the door, with any dignity; for if you had done so, the grinning goblin would have examined knob and panels with a squinted eye, and gone back whistling to your easy-chair. chapter vii. water-folk. of old, there were oreads and naiads to people the rivers and the sea, but they were not fairies; and in after-years the beautiful, bright water-life of greece, with its shells and dolphins, its palaces, its subaqueous music, and its happy-hearted maids and men, faded wholly out of memory. no one dominant race came to replace them. merpeople, tritons and sirens we meet now and then, as did hendrik hudson's crew, and the moruachs of ireland, the morverch (sea-daughters) of brittainy; but they, too, were grown, and half-human. they were beautiful and swift, and usually sat combing their long hair, with a mirror in one hand, and their glossy tails tapering from the waist. the danish mermaid was gold-haired, cunning and treacherous; the havmand or merman was handsome, too, with black hair and beard, but kind and beneficent. the swedish pair offered presents to those on shore, or passing in boats, in hopes to sink them beneath the waves. england and ireland had no water-sprites which answered to the nix and the kelpie, only the merrow, who was a mermaid. she was a fair woman, with white, webbed fingers. she carried upon her head a little diving-cap, and when she came up to the rocks or the beach, she laid it by; but if it were stolen from her, she lost the power of returning to the sea. so that if her cap were taken by a young man, she very often could do nothing better than to marry him, and spend her time hunting for it up and down over his house. and once she had found it, she forgot all else but her desire to go home to "the kind sea-caves," and despite the calling of her neighbors and husband and children, she flitted to the shore, and plunged into the first oncoming billow, and walked the earth no longer. [illustration: mer-folk.] tales of these spirit-brides who suddenly deserted the green earth for their dear native waters, are common in arabian and european folk-lore. and this characteristic was noted also in the sea-trows of the shetland islands, who divested themselves of a shining fish-skin, and could not find the way to their ocean-beds if it were kept out of their reach. it was the danish sailor's belief that seals laid by their skins every ninth night, and took maiden's forms wherewith to sport and sleep on the reefs. and for their capture as they were, warm, living and human, one had only to snatch and hide away their talisman-skin. the strange german water-man wore a green hat, and when he opened his mouth, his teeth as well were green; he appeared to girls who passed his lake, and measured out ribbon, and flung it to them. but we must search for smaller sprites than these. the little water-fairies who devoted themselves to drawing under whomsoever encroached on their pools and brooks, were called nixies in germany, korrigans (for this was part of their office) in brittainy; ondins about magdebourg, and roussalkis, the long-haired, smiling ones, among the slavic people. [illustration: the little old nix near ghent.] the engaging nixies were very minute and mischievous, and abounded in the shetland isles and cornwall, as did, moreover, the kelpies, who were like tiny horses, known even in china; sporting on the margin, and foreboding death by drowning, to any who beheld them; or tempting passers-by to mount, and plunging, with their victims, headlong into the deep. the nix-lady was recognized when she came on shore by the edges of her dress or apron being perpetually wet. the dark-eyed nix-man with his seaweed hair and his wide hat, was known by his slit ears and feet, which he was very careful to conceal. once in a while he was observed to be half-fish. the naked nixen were draped with moss and kelp; but when they were clothed, they seemed merely little men and women, save that the borders of their garments, dripping water, betrayed them. they did their marketing ashore, wheresoever they were, and, according to all accounts, with a sharp eye to economy. like the land-elves, they loved to dance and sing. nix did not favor divers, fishermen, and other intruders on his territory, and he did his best to harm them. he was altogether a fierce, grudging, covetous little creature. his comelier wife was much better-natured, and befriended human beings to the utmost of her power. [illustration: the work of the nickel.] near ghent was a little old nix who lived in the scheldt; he cried and sighed much, and did mischief to no one. it grieved him when children ran away from him, yet if they asked what troubled his conscience, he only sighed heavily, and disappeared. the modern greeks believed in a black sprite haunting wells and springs, who was fond of beckoning to strangers. if they came to him, he bestowed gifts upon them; if not, he never seemed angry, but turned patiently to wait for the next passer-by. there was a curious sea-creature in norway, who swam about as a thin little old man with no head. about the magical isle of rügen lived the nickel. his favorite game was to astonish the fishers, by hauling their boats up among the trees. at arles and other towns near the spanish border in france, were the dracs, who inhabited clear pools and streams, and floated along in the shape of gold rings and cups, so that women and children bathing should grasp them, and be lured under. the indian water-manittos, the nibanaba, were winning in appearance, and wicked in disposition. they, joining the pukwudjinies, helped to kill kwasind. in wales were the gwragedd annwn, elves who loved the stillness of lonely mountain-lakes, and who seldom ventured into the upper world. they had their own submerged towns and battlements; and from their little sunken city the fairy-bells sent out, ever and anon, muffled silver voices. the gwragedd annwn were not fishy-finned, nor were they ever dwellers in the sea; for in wales were no mermaid-traditions, nor any tales of those who beguiled mortals- under the glassy, cool, translucent wave. the neck and the strömkarl of swedish rivers were two little chaps with hardly a hair's breadth of difference. either appeared under various shapes; now as a green-hatted old man with a long beard, out of which he wrung water as he sat on the cliffs; now loitering of a summer night on the surface, like a chip of wood or a leaf, he seemed a fair child, harping, with yellow ringlets falling from beneath a high red cap to his shoulders. both fairies had a genius for music; and the strömkarl, especially, had one most marvellous tune to which he put eleven variations. now, to ten of them any one might dance decorously, and with safety; but at the eleventh, which was the enchanted one, all the world went mad; and tables, belfries, benches, houses, windmills, trees, horses, cripples, babies, ghosts, and whole towns full of sedate citizens began capering on the banks about the invisible player, and kept it up in furious fashion until the last note died away. you know that the wren was hunted in certain countries on a certain day. well, here is one legend about her. there was a malicious fairy once in the isle of man, very winsome to look at, who worked a sorry kelpie-trick, on the young men of the town, and inveigled them into the sea, where they perished. at last the inhabitants rose in vengeance, and suspecting her of causing their loss and sorrow, gave her chase so hard and fast by land, that to save herself, she changed her shape into that of an innocent brown wren. and because she had been so treacherous, a spell was cast upon her, inasmuch as she was obliged every new year's day to fly about as that same bird, until she should be killed by a human hand. and from sunrise to sunset, therefore, on the first bleak day of january, all the men and boys of the island fired at the poor wrens, and stoned them, and entrapped them, in the hope of reaching the one guilty fairy among them. and as they could never be sure that they had captured the right one, they kept on year by year, chasing and persecuting the whole flock. but every dead wren's feather they preserved carefully, and believed that it hindered them from drowning and shipwreck for that twelvemonth; and they took the feathers with them on voyages great and small, in order that the bad fairy's magic may never be able to prevail, as it had prevailed of yore with their unhappy brothers. the presence of the sea-fairies had a terror in it, and against their arts only the strongest and most watchful could hope to be victorious. their sport was to desolate peaceful homes, and bring destruction on gallant ships. they, dwelling in streams and in the ocean, the world over, were like the waters they loved: gracious and noble in aspect, and meaning danger and death to the unwary. we fear that, like the earth-fairies, they were heartless quite. [illustration: hob in hobhole] but it may be that the gentle nixies had only a blind longing for human society, and would not willingly have wrought harm to the creatures of another element. we are more willing to urge excuses for their wrong-doing than for the like fault in our frowzly under-ground folk; for ugliness seems, somehow, not so shocking when allied with evil as does beauty, which was destined for all men's delight and uplifting. as the air-elves had their fairyland whither mortal children wandered, and whence they returned after an unmeasured lapse of time, still children, to the ivy-grown ruins of their homes, so the water-elves had a reward for those they snatched from earth; and legends assure us the wave-rocked prisoners a hundred fathoms down, never grew old, but kept the flush of their last morning rosy ever on their brows. among a little community full of guile, there is great comfort in spotting one honest, kind water-boy, who, not content with being harmless, as were the flemish and grecian nixies, put himself to work to do good, and charm away some of the worries and ills that burdened the upper world. his name was hob, and he lived in hobhole, which was a cave scooped out by the beating tides in old northumbria. the lean pockets of the neighboring doctors were partly attributed to this benignant little person; for he set up an opposition, and his specialty was the cure of whooping-cough. many a scotch mother took her lad or lass to the spray-covered mouth of the wise goblin's cave, and sang in a low voice: hobhole hob! ma bairn's gotten t' kink-cough: tak't off! tak't off! and so he did, sitting there with his toes in the sea. for hobhole hob's small sake, we can afford to part friends with the whole naughty race of water-folk. chapter viii. mischief-makers. the fairy-fellows who made a regular business of mischief-making seemed to have two favorite ways of setting to work. they either saddled themselves with little boys and spilled them, sooner or later, into the water, or else they danced along holding a twinkling light, and led any one so foolish as to follow them a pretty march into chasms and quagmires. their jokes were grim and hurtful, and not merely funny, like brownie's; for brownie usually gave his victims (except in molly jones's case) nothing much worse than a pinch. so people came to have great awe and horror of the heartless goblins who waylaid travellers, and left them broken-limbed or dead. very often quarrelsome, disobedient or vicious folk fell into the snare of a kelpie, or a will-o'-the-wisp; for the little whipper-snappers had a fine eye for poetical justice, and dealt out punishments with the nicest discrimination. we never hear that they troubled good, steady mortals; but only that sometimes they beguiled them, for sheer love, into fairyland. we know that all "ouphes and elves" could change their shapes at will; therefore when we spy fairy-horses, fairy-lambs, and such quadrupeds, we guess at once that they are only roguish small gentlemen masquerading. never for the innocent fun of it, either; but alas! to bring silly persons to grief. in hampshire, in england, was a spirit known as coltpixy, which, itself shaped like a miniature neighing horse, beguiled other horses into bogs and morasses. the irish pooka or phooka was a horse too, and a famous rascal. he lived on land, and was something like the welsh gwyll: a tiny, black, wicked-faced wild colt, with chains dangling about him. again, he frisked around in the shape of a goat or a bat. spenser has him: "ne let the pouke, ne other evill spright, . . . ne let hobgoblins, names whose sense we see not, fray us with things that be not." "fray," as you are likely to guess, means to frighten or to scare. [illustration: the irish pooka was a horse too.] kelpies, who were scotch, haunted fords and ferries, especially in storms; allured bystanders into the water, or swelled the river so that it broke the roads, and overwhelmed travellers. very like them were the brag, the little shoopil-tree of the shetland islands, and the nick, who was the icelandic nykkur-horse; gamesome deceivers all, who enticed children and others to bestride them, and who were treacherous as a quicksand, every time. and there were many more of the kelpie kingdom, of whom we can hunt up no clews. a man who saw a kelpie gave himself up for lost; for he was sure, by hook or crook, to meet his death by drowning. kelpie, familiar so far away as china, never stayed in the next-door countries, ireland or england, long enough to be recognized. they knew nothing of him by sight, nor of the nix his cousin, nor of anything resembling them. in ireland lived the merrow; but she was only an amiable mermaid. [illustration: will-o'-the-wisp.] the japanese had a water-dragon called kappa, "whose office it was to swallow bad boys who went to swim in disobedience to their parents' commands, and at improper times and places." in the river tees was a green-haired lady named peg powler, and in some streams in lancashire one christened jenny greenteeth; two hungry goblins whose only delight was to drown and devour unlucky travellers. but we know already that the water-sprites were more than likely so to behave. in provence there is a tale told of seven little boys who went out at night against their grandmother's wishes. a little dark pony came prancing up to them, and the youngest clambered on his sleek back, and after him, the whole seven, one after the other, which was quite a wonderful weight for the wee creature; but his back meanwhile kept growing longer and larger to accommodate them. as they galloped along, the children called such of their playmates as were out of doors, to join them, the obliging nag stretching and stretching until thirty pairs of young legs dangled at his sides! when he made straight for the sea, and plunged in, and drowned them all. the piskies, or pigseys, of cornwall, were naughty and unsociable. their great trick was to entice people into marshes, by making themselves look like a light held in a man's hand, or a light in a friendly cottage window. pisky also rode the farmers' colts hard, and chased the farmers' cows. for all his diabolics, you had to excuse him in part, when you heard his hearty fearless laugh; it was so merry and sweet. "to laugh like a pisky," passed into a proverb. the barguest of yorkshire, like the osschaert of the netherlands, was an open-air bugaboo whose presence always portended disaster. sometimes he appeared as a horse or dog, merely to play the old trick with a false light, and to vanish, laughing. the tückebold was a very malicious chap, carrying a candle, who lived in hanover; his blood-relation in scandinavia was the lyktgubhe. over in flanders and brabant was one kludde, a fellow whisking here and there as a half-starved little mare, or a cat, or a frog, or a bat; but who was always accompanied by two dancing blue flames, and who could overtake any one as swiftly as a snake. the ellydan (dan is a welsh word meaning fire, and also a lure or a snare: a luring elf-fire) was a rogue with wings, wide ears, a tall cap and two huge torches, who precisely resembled the english will-o'-the-wisp, the scandinavian lyktgubhe and the breton sand yan y tad. our american negroes make him out jack-muh-lantern: a vast, hairy, goggle-eyed, big-mouthed ogre, leaping like a giant grasshopper, and forcing his victims into a swamp, where they died. the gentlemen of this tribe preferred to walk abroad at night, like any other torchlight procession. their little bodies were invisible, and the traveller who hurried towards the pleasant lamp ahead, never knew that he was being tricked by a grinning fairy, until he stumbled on the brink of a precipice, or found himself knee-deep in a bog. then the brazen little guide shouted outright with glee, put out his mysterious flame, and somersaulted off, leaving the poor tourist to help himself. the only way to escape his arts was to turn your coat inside out. you may guess that the ungodly wights had plenty of fun in them, by this anecdote: a great many scotch jack-o'-lanterns, as they are often called, were once bothering the horse belonging to a clergyman, who with his servant, was returning home late at night. the horse reared and whinnied, and the clergyman was alarmed, for a thousand impish fires were waltzing before the wheels. like a good man, he began to pray aloud, to no avail. but the servant just roared: "wull ye be aff noo, in the deil's name!" and sure enough, in a wink, there was not a goblin within gunshot. [illustration: pisky also chased the farmers' cows.] there were some freakish fairies in old england, whose names were puckerel, hob howland, bygorn, bogleboe, rawhead or bloodybones; the last two were certainly scarers of nurseries. the boggart was a little spectre who haunted farms and houses, like brownie or nis; but he was usually a sorry busybody, tearing the bed-curtains, rattling the doors, whistling through the keyholes, snatching his bread-and-butter from the baby, playing pranks upon the servants, and doing all manner of mischief. [illustration: red comb was a tyrant.] the dunnie, in northumberland, was fond of annoying farmers. when night came, he gave them and himself a rest, and hung his long legs over the crags, whistling and banging his idle heels. red comb or bloody cap was a tyrant who lived in every border castle, dungeon and tower. he was short and thickset long-toothed and skinny-fingered, with big red eyes, grisly flowing hair, and iron boots; a pikestaff in his left hand, and a red cap on his ugly head. the village of hedley, near ebchester, in england, was haunted by a churlish imp known far and wide as the hedley gow. he took the form of a cow, and amused himself at milking-time with kicking over the pails, scaring the maids, and calling the cats, of whom he was fond, to lick up the cream. then he slipped the ropes and vanished, with a great laugh. in northern germany we find the hedley gow's next-of-kin, and there, too, were little underground beings who accompanied maids and men to the milking, and drank up what was spilt; but if nothing happened to be spilt in measuring out the quarts, they got angry, overturned the pails, and ran away. these jackanapes were a foot and a half high, and dressed in black, with red caps. many ominous fairies, such as the banshee, portended misfortune and death. the banshee had a high shrill voice, and long hair. once in a while she seemed to be as tall as an ordinary woman, very thin, with head uncovered, and a floating white cloak, wringing her hands and wailing. she attached herself only to certain ancient irish families, and cried under their windows when one of their race was sick, and doomed to die. but she scorned families who had a dash of saxon and norman ancestry, and would have nothing to do with them. every single fairy that ever was known to the annals of this world was, at times, a mischief-maker. he could no more keep out of mischief than a trout out of water. what lives the dandiprats led our poor great-great-great-great grand-sires! as a very clever living writer put it: "a man could not ride out without risking an encounter with a puck or a will-o'-the wisp. he could not approach a stream in safety unless he closed his ears to the sirens' songs, and his eyes to the fair form of the mermaid. in the hillside were the dwarfs, in the forest queen mab and her court. brownie ruled over him in his house, and robin goodfellow in his walks and wanderings. from the moment a christian came into the world until his departure therefrom, he was at the mercy of the fairy-folk, and his devices to elude them were many. unhappy was the mother who neglected to lay a pair of scissors or of tongs, a knife or her husband's breeches, in the cradle of her new-born infant; for if she forgot, then was she sure to receive a changeling in its place. great was the loss of the child to whose baptism the fairies were not invited, or the bride to whose wedding the nix, or water-spirit, was not bidden. if the inhabitants of thale did not throw a black cock annually into the bode, one of them was claimed as his lawful victim by the nickelmann dwelling in that stream. the russian peasant who failed to present the rusalka or water-sprite he met at whitsuntide, with a handkerchief, or a piece torn from his or her clothing, was doomed to death." one had to be ever on the lookout to escape the sharp little immortals, whose very kindness to men and women was a species of coquetry, and who never spared their friends' feelings at the expense of their own saucy delight. chapter ix. puck; and poets' fairies. puck, as we said, is shakespeare's fairy. there is some probability that he found in cwm pwca, or puck valley, a part of the romantic glens of clydach, in breconshire, the original scenes of his fanciful _midsummer night's dream_. this glen used to be crammed with goblins. there, and in many like-named welsh places, puck's pranks were well-remembered by old inhabitants. this welsh puck was a queer little figure, long and grotesque, and looked something like a chicken half out of his shell; at least, so a peasant drew him, from memory, with a bit of coal. pwcca, or pooka, in wales, was but another name for ellydan; and his favorite joke was also to travel along before a wayfarer, with a lantern held over his head, leading miles and miles, until he got to the brink of a precipice. then the little wretch sprang over the chasm, shouted with wicked glee, blew out his lantern, and left the startled traveller to reach home as best he could. old reginald scott must have had this sort of a puck in mind when he put kitt-with-the-candlestick, whose identity troubled the critics much, in his catalogue of "bugbears." the very old word pouke meant the devil, horns, tail, and all; from that word, as it grew more human and serviceable, came the pixy of devonshire, the irish phooka, the scottish bogle, and the boggart in yorkshire; and even one nursery-tale title of bugaboo. oddest of all, the name pug, which we give now to an amusing race of small dogs, is an every-day reminder of poor lost puck, and of the queer changes which, through a century or two, may befall a word. puck was considered court-jester, a mild, comic, playful creature: a little random elf born in the sport of nature, like a weed, for simple sweet enjoyment of myself, but for no other purpose, worth or need; and yet withal of a most happy breed. but he kept to the last his character of practical joker, and his alliance with his grim little cousins, the lyktgubhe and the kludde. glorious old michael drayton made a verse of his naughty tricks, which you shall hear: this puck seems but a dreaming dolt, still walking like a ragged colt, and oft out of a bush doth bolt on purpose to deceive us; and leading us, makes us to stray long winter nights out of the way: and when we stick in mire and clay, he doth with laughter leave us. shakespeare, who calls him a "merry wanderer of the night," and allows him to fly "swifter than arrow from the tartar's bow," was the first to make puck into a house spirit. the poets were especially attentive to the offices of these house-spirits. according to them, mab and puck do everything in-doors which we think characteristic of a brownie. william browne, born in tavistock, in the county of devon, where the pixies lived, prettily puts it how the fairy-queen did- ----command her elves to pinch those maids that had not swept their shelves; and further, if by maiden's oversight, within doors water was not brought at night, or if they spread no table, set no bread, they should have nips from toe unto the head! and for the maid who had performed each thing she in the water-pail bade leave a ring. [illustration: the welsh puck.] herrick confirms what we have just heard: if ye will with mab find grace, set each platter in its place; rake the fire up, and get water in ere the sun be set; wash your pails, and cleanse your dairies; sluts are loathsome to the fairies! sweep your house: who doth not so, mab will pinch her by the toe. john lyly, in his very beautiful _mayde's metamorphosis_ has this charming fairy song, which takes us out to the grass, and the soft night air, and the softer starshine: by the moon we sport and play; with the night begins our day; as we dance, the dew doth fall. trip it, little urchins all! lightly as the little bee, two by two, and three by three, and about go we, and about go we. [illustration: a merry night-wanderer.] what a picture of the wee tribe at their revels! here is another, from ben jonson's _sad shepherd_: span-long elves that dance about a pool, with each a little changeling in her arms. in what is thought to be lyly's play, just mentioned, mopso, joculo, and prisio have something in the way of a pun for each fairy they address: _mop._: i pray you, what might i call you? _1st fairy_: my name is penny. _mop._: i am sorry i cannot purse you! _pris._: i pray you, sir, what might i call you? _2nd fairy_: my name is cricket. (mr. keightley says that the crickets were a family of great note in fairyland: many poets celebrated them.) _pris._: i would i were a chimney for your sake! _joc._: i pray you, you pretty little fellow, what's your name? _3rd fairy_: my name is little little prick. _joc._: little little prick! o you are a dangerous fairy, and fright all the little wenches in the country out of their beds. i care not whose hand i were in, so i were out of yours. drayton, again, gives us a list of tinkling elfin-ladies' names, which are pleasant to hear as the drip of an icicle: hop and mop and drop so clear, pip and trip and skip that were to mab their sovereign ever dear, her special maids-of-honor: pib and tib and pinck and pin, tick and quick, and jil and jin, tit and nit, and wap and win, the train that wait upon her! [illustration: "by the moon we sport and play."] young randolph has an equally delightful account in the pastoral drama of _amyntas_, of his wee folk orchard-robbing; whose chorused latin leigh hunt thus translates, roguishly enough: we the fairies blithe and antic, of dimensions not gigantic, tho' the moonshine mostly keep us, oft in orchard frisk and peep us. stolen sweets are always sweeter; stolen kisses much completer; stolen looks are nice in chapels; stolen, stolen, be our apples! when to bed the world is bobbing, then's the time for orchard-robbing: yet the fruit were scarce worth peeling, were it not for stealing, stealing! you will notice that shakespeare places his gothic goblins in the woods about athens, a place where real fairies never set their rose-leaf feet, but where once sported yet lovelier dryads and naiads. these dainty british greeks are very small indeed: titania orders them to make war on the rear-mice, and make coats of their leathern wings. mercutio's queen mab is scarce bigger than a snowflake. prospero, in _the tempest_, commands, besides his "delicate ariel," all --elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves. the make-believe fairies in _the merry wives_ know how to pinch offenders black and blue. the shepherd, in the _winter's tale_, takes the baby perdita for a changeling. so that all the shakespeare people seem wise in goblin-lore. you see that we have looked for the literature of our pretty friends only among the old poets, and only english poets at that; but the foreign fairies are no less charming. chaucer and spenser loved the brood especially. robert herrick knew all about --the elves also, whose little eyes glow; sidney smiled on them once or twice, and great milton could spare them a line out of his majestic verse. but the high-tide of their praise was ebbing already when dryden and pope were writing. lesser poets than any of these, parnell and tickell, wrote fairy tales, but they lack the relish of the honeyed rhymes drayton, lyly, and supreme shakespeare, give us. keats was drawn to them, though he has left us but sweet and brief proof of it; and thomas hood, of all gentle modern poets, has done most for the "small foresters and gay." in prose the fairies are "famoused" east and west; for which they may sing their loudest canticle to the good brothers grimm, in fairyland. the arts have been their handmaids; and some of this world's most lovable spirits have delighted to do them merry honor: mendelssohn in his quicksilver orchestral music, and dear richard doyle in the quaintest drawings that ever fell, laughing, from a pencil-point. [illustration: the elves whose little eyes glow.] chapter x. changelings. kidnapping was a favorite pastime with our small friends, and a great many reasons concurred to make it a necessary and thriving trade. we are told that both the tylwyth teg and the korrigans had a fear that their frail race was dying out, and sought to steal hearty young children, and leave the wee, bright, sickly "changeling," or ex-changeling, in its place. that sounds like a quibble; for we know that fairies were free from the shadow of death, and could not possibly dread any lessening of their numbers from the old, old cause. yet we saw that the air-elves held pitched battles, and murdered one another like gallant soldiers, from the world's beginning; and again comes a straggling little proof to make us suspect that they had not quite the immortality they boasted. however, we pass it by, sure at least that the philosopher who first observed the merry goblins to be at bottom wavering and disconsolate, recognized an instance of it in this pathetic eagerness to adopt babies not their own. fairy-folk were believed, in general, to have power over none but unbaptized children. a tradition older and wider than the tylwyth teg's runs that a yearly tribute was due from fairyland to the prince of the infernal regions, as poor king ægeus had once to pay minos of crete with the seven fair boys and girls; and that, for the sake of sparing their own dear ones, the little beings, in their fantastic dress, flew east and west on an anxious hunt for human children, who might be captured and delivered over to bondage instead. and they crept cautiously to many a cradle, and having secured the sleeping innocent, "plucked the nodding nurse by the nose," as ben jonson said, and vanished with a scream of triumphant laughter. welsh fairies have been caught in the very act of the theft, and a pretty fight they made, every time, to keep their booty; but the strength of a man or a woman, was, of course, too much for them to resist long. now, whenever a mother, who, you may count upon it, thought her own urchin most beautiful of all under the moon, found him growing cross and homely, in despite of herself, she suddenly awoke to this view of the case: that the dwindled babe was her babe no longer, but a miserable young gosling from fairyland slipped into its place. a miserable young foreign gosling it was from that hour, though it had her own grandfather's special kind of a nose on its unmistakable face. the discovery always made a great sensation; people came from the surrounding villages to wonder at the lean, gaping, knowing-eyed small stranger in the crib, and to propose all sorts of charms which should rid the house of his presence, and restore the rightful heir again. they were not especially polite to the poor changeling. in denmark, and in ireland as well, they dandled him on a hot shovel! if he were really a changeling, the fairies, rather than see him singed, were sure to appear in a violent fluster and whisk him away, and at the same minute to drop its former owner plump into the cradle. and if it were not a changeling, how did those queer by-gone mammas know when to stop the broiling and baking? mr. george waldron, who in 1726 wrote an entertaining _description of the isle of man_, recorded it that he once went to see a baby supposed to be a changeling; that it seemed to be four or five years old, but smaller than an infant of six months, pale, and silky-haired, and (what was unusual) with the fairest face under heaven; that it was not able to walk nor to move a joint, seldom smiled, ate scarcely anything, and never spoke nor cried; but that if you called it a fairy-elf, it fixed its gaze on you as if it would look you through. if it were left alone, it was overheard laughing and frolicking, and when it was taken up after, limp as cloth, its hair was found prettily combed, and there were signs that it had been washed and dressed by its unseen playfellows. the main point to put the family mind at rest on the matter, was to make the changeling "own up," force him to do something which no tender mortal in socks and bibs ever was able to do, such as dance, prophesy, or manage a musical instrument. there was an irish changeling, the youngest of five sons, who, being teased, snatched a bagpipe from a visitor, and played upon it in the most accomplished and melting manner, sitting up in his wooden chair, his big goggle-eyes fixed on the company. and when he knew he was found out, he sprang, bagpipe and all, into the river; which leads one to suspect that he was a sort of stray strömkarl. [illustration: there was an irish changeling.] the welsh fairies had good taste, and admired wholesome and handsome children. they stole such often, and left for substitute the plentyn-newid (the change-child) who at first was exactly like the absent nursling, but soon grew ugly, shrivelled, biting, wailing, cunning and ill-tempered. in the hope of proving whether it were a fairy-waif or not, people put the little creature to such hard tests, that sometimes it nearly died of acquaintance with a rod, or an oven, or a well. [illustration: "the acorn before the oak have i seen."] if the bereaved parent did some very astonishing thing in plain view of the wonder-chick, that would generally entrap it into betraying its secrets. a french changeling was once moved unawares to sing out that it was nine hundred years old, at least! in wales, and also in brittainy (which are sister-countries of one race) the following story is current: a mother whose infant had been spirited away, and who was much perplexed over what she took to be a changeling, was advised to cook a meal for ten farm-servants in one egg-shell. when the queer little creature, burning with curiosity, asked her from his high-chair what she was about, she could hardly answer, so excited was she to hear him speak. at that he cried louder: "a meal for ten, dear mother, in one egg-shell? the acorn before the oak have i seen, and the wilderness before the lawn, but never did i behold anything like that!" and so gave damaging evidence of his age and his unlucky wisdom. and the woman replied: "you have seen altogether too much, my son, and you shall have a beating!" and thereupon she began to thrash him, until he screeched, and a fairy appeared hurriedly to rescue him, and in the crib lay the round, rosy, real child, who had been missing a long while. now the "gentry" of modern greece had an eye also to clever children; but they almost always brought them back, laden with gifts, lovelier in person than when they were taken from home. and if they appointed a changeling in the meantime (which they were not very apt to do) it never showed its elfin nature until it was quite grown up! unlike the uncanny goblins who were all too ready from the first to give autobiographies on the slightest hint. the drows of the orkney islands fancied larger game. they used to stalk in among church congregations and carry off pious deacons and deaconesses! so wrote one lucas jacobson debes, in 1670. in a pretty scotch tale, a sly fairy threatened to steal the "lad bairn," unless the mother could tell the fairy's right name. the latter was a complete stranger, and the woman was sore worried; and went to walk in the woods to ease her anxious and aching heart, and to think over some means of outwitting the enemy of her boy. and presently she heard a faint voice singing under a leaf: little kens the gude dame at hame that whuppity stoorie is ma name! when the smart lady in green came to take the beautiful "lad bairn," the mother quietly called her "whuppity stoorie!" and off she hurried with a cry of fear; like the austrian dwarf kruzimügeli, the "dear ekke nekkepem" of friesland, and many another who tried to play the same trick, and who were always themselves the means of telling mortals the very names they would conceal. [illustration: she heard a faint voice singing under a leaf.] fairy-folk young and old were coquettish enough about their names, and greatly preferred they should not be spoken outright. this habit got them into many a scrape. the anecdote of "who hurt you? myself!" was told in spain, finland, brittainy, japan, and a dozen other kingdoms, and seems to be as old as the odyssey. do you remember where ulysses tells the cyclop that his name is outis, which means nobody? and how, after the eye of the wicked polyphemus has been put out, the comrades of the big blinded fellow ask him who did the deed, and he growls back, very sensibly: "nobody!" consider what follows a typical modern version of the same trick. [illustration: "ainsel."] a young scotch child, whom we will call alan, sits by the fire, when a pretty creature the size of a doll, waltzes down the chimney to the hearth, and begins to frolic. when asked its name it says shrewdly: "ainsel"; which to the boy sounds like what it really is, "ownself," and makes him, when it is his turn to be questioned, as saucy and reticent as he supposes his elfin playfellow to be. so alan tells the sprite that his name is "_my_ ainsel," and gets the better of it. for bye-and-bye they wax very frisky and friendly, and right in the middle of their sport, when little alan pokes the fire, and gets a spark by chance on ainsel's foot, and when he roars with pain, and the old fairy-mother appears instantly, crying angrily: "who has hurt thee? who has hurt thee?" the elf blurts, of course, "my ainsel!" and she kicks him unceremoniously up chimney, and bids him stop whimpering, since the burn was of his own silly doing! alan, meanwhile, climbs upstairs to bed, rejoicing to escape the vengeance of the fairy-mother, and chuckling in his sleeve at the funny turn things have taken. chapter xi. fairyland. "and never would i tire, janet, in fairyland to dwell." so runs the song. who would weary of so sweet a place? at least, we think of it as a sweet place; but like this own world of ours, it was whatever a man's eyes made it: good and gracious to the good, troublous to the evil. according to an old belief, a mean or angry, or untruthful person, always exposed himself, by the very violence of his wrong-doing, to become an inmate of fairyland; and for such a one, it could not have been all sunshine. a foot set upon the fairy-ring was enough to cause a mortal to be whisked off, pounded, pinched, bewildered, and left far from home. it was a strange experience, and it is recorded that it befell many a lad and maid to be loosed from earth, and cloistered for uncounted years, to return, like our catskill hero, rip van winkle, after what he supposes to be a little time, and to find that generations had passed away. for those absent took no thought of time's passing, and on reaching earth again, would begin where their lips had dropped a sentence half-spoken, a hundred years before. tales of such truants are common the world over. gitto bach (little griffith) was a welsh farmer's boy, who looked after sheep on the mountain-top. when he came home at evenfall he often showed his brothers and sisters bits of paper stamped like money. now when it was given to him, it was real money; but the fairy-gifts would not bear handling, and turned useless and limp as soon as gitto showed them. one day he did not return. after two years his mother found him one morning at the door, smiling, and with a bundle under his arm. she asked him, with many tears, where he had been so long, while they had mourned for him as dead. "it is only yesterday i went away!" said gitto. "see the pretty clothes the mountain-children gave me, for dancing with them to the music of their harps." and he opened his bundle, and showed a beautiful dress: but his mother saw it was only paper, after all, like the fairy money. [illustration: gitto bach and the fairies.] [illustration: kaguyahime, the moon-maid.] our pretty friends enjoyed beguiling mortals into their shining underworld, with song, and caresses, and winning promises. once the mortal entered, he met with warm welcomes from all, and the most exquisite meat and drink were set before him. now, if he had but the courage to refuse it, he soon found himself back on earth, whence he was stolen. but if he yielded to temptation, and his tongue tasted fairy food, he could never behold his native hills again for years and years. and when, after that exquisite imprisonment, he should be torn from his delights and set back at his father's door, he should find his memory almost forgotten, and others sitting with a claim in his empty seat. and he should not remember how long he had been missing, but grow silent and depressed, and sit for hours, with dreamy eyes, on lonely slopes and wildwood bridges, not desiring fellowship of any soul alive; but with a heartache always for his little lost playfellows, and for that bright country far away, until he died. often the creature who has once stood in the courts of fairyland, is placed under vow, when released, and allowed to visit the earth, to come back at call, and abide there always. for the spell of that place is so strong, no heart can escape it, nor wish to escape it. thus ends the old romance of thomas the rhymer: that, at the end of seven years, he was freed from fairyland, made wise beyond all men; but he was sworn to return whenever the summons should reach him. and once as he was making merry with his chosen comrades, a hart and a hind moved slowly along the village street; and he knew the sign, laid down his glass, and smiled farewell; and followed them straightway into the strange wood, never to be seen more by mortal eyes. a wonderful and beautiful japanese story, too, the ancient taketori monogatari, written in the first half of the tenth century, tells us how a grey-haired bamboo-gatherer found in a bamboo-blade a radiant elf-baby, and kindly took it home to his wife; and because of their great and ready generosity to the waif, the gods made them thrive in purse and health; and how, when the little one had been with them three months, kaguyahime, for that was she, grew suddenly to a tall and fair girl, and so remained unchanging, for twenty years, while five gallant japanese lords were doing her strange commands, and running risks the world over. then, though the emperor, also, was her suitor, and though she was unspeakably fond of her old foster-parents, and grieved to go from them, she, being a moon-maid, went back in her chariot one glorious night to her shining home, whence she had been banished for some old fault, and whither the love and longing and homage of all the land pursued her. many sweet wild welsh and cornish legends deal with shepherds and yeomen who set foot on a fairy mound by chance, or who, in some other fashion, were transplanted to the realm of the dancing, feasting elves. but they have a pathetic ending, since no wanderer ever strayed back with all his old wits sound and sharp. he seemed as one who walked in sleep, and had no care or recognition for the faces that once he held dear. and if he were roused too rudely from his long reverie, he died of the shock. [illustration: the little hunchback.] a merrier tale, and one which is very wise and pretty as well, is current in many literatures. the irish version runs somewhat in this fashion, and the spanish and breton versions are extraordinarily like it. a little hunchback resting at nightfall in an enchanted neighborhood, heard the fairies, from their borderlands near by, singing over and over the names of the days of the week. "and sunday, and monday, and tuesday!" they chorus: "and sunday and monday and tuesday." the boy thinks it rather hard that they do not know enough to finish their musical chant with the names of the remaining days; so, when they pause a little, very softly, and tunefully, he adds: "and wednesday"! the wee folk are delighted, and make their chant longer by one strophe; and they crowd out in their finery from the mound, bearing the stranger far down into its depths where there are the glorious open halls of fairyland: kissing and praising their friend, and bringing him the daintiest fruit lips ever tasted; and to reward him lastingly, their soft little hands lift the cruel hump from his back, and he runs dancing home, at a year's end, to acquaint the village with his happy fortune. now another deformed lad, his neighbor, is racked with jealousy at the sight of his former friend made straight and fair; and he rushes to the fairy-mound, and sits, scowling, waiting to hear them begin the magic song. presently rise the silver voices: "and sunday, and monday, and tuesday, and wednesday, and sunday and monday and tuesday and wednesday": whereat the audience breaks in rudely, right in the middle of a cadence: "and friday." then the gentle elves were wrathful, and swarmed out upon him, snarling and striking at him in scorn; and before he escaped them, they had fastened on his crooked back beside his own, the very hump that had belonged to the first comer! in the anecdote, as it is given in picardy, the justice-dealing goblins are described as very small and comely, clad in violet-colored velvet, and wearing hats laden with peacock plumes. in the japanese rendering, a wen takes the place of the hump. fairyland is the home of every goblin, bright or fierce, that ever we heard of; the home, too, of the ogres and dragons, and enchanted princesses, and demons, and jack-the-giant-killers of all time. the brownies belonged there, and went thither in their worldly finery, when service was over; the gnomes and snarling mine-sprites, the sweet dancing elves, the fairies who stole children, or romped under the river's current, or plagued honest farmers, or tiptoed it with a torch down a lonesome road--every one there had his country and his fireside. [illustration: taknakanx kan.] in that merry company were many who have escaped us, and who sit in a blossomy corner by themselves, the oddest of the odd: like the japanese tengus, who have little wings and feathers, like birds, until they grew up; mouths very seldom opened, and most amazing big noses, with which, on earth, they were wont to fence, to whitewash, to write poetry, and to ring bells! there, too, were the dark-skinned indian wonder-babies: weeng, whom mr. longfellow celebrates as nepahwin, the indian god of sleep, with his numerous train of little fairy men armed with clubs; who at nightfall sought out mortals, and with innumerable light blows upon their foreheads, compelled them to slumber. the great boaster, iagoo, whom hiawatha knew, once declared that he had seen king weeng himself, resting against a tree, with many waving and music-making wings on his back. indian, likewise, was the spirit named canotidan, who dwelt in many a hollow tree; and the lively fellow, taknakanx kan, who sported "in the nodding flowers; who flew with the birds, frisked with the squirrels, and skipped with the grasshopper; who was merry with the gay running brooks, and shouted with the waterfall; who moved with the sailing cloud, and came forth with the dawn." he never slept, and never had time to sleep, being the god of perpetual motion. near him, perhaps, see-sawed a couple of long-eyed chinese san sao, or the glossy-haired fées of southern france pelted one another with dew-drops. there also, the african yumboes had their magnificent tents spread: those strange little thieving banshee-brownies, wrapped in white cotton pangs, who leaned back in their seats after a gorgeous repast, and beheld an army of hands appear and carry off the golden dishes! there abided, as the venerated elder of the rest, the long-bearded pygmies whom homer, aristotle and good herodotus had not scorned to celebrate, whom sir john mandeville avowed to be "right fair and gentle, after their quantities, both the men and the women.... and he that liveth eight year, men hold him right passing old ... and of the men of our stature have they as great scorn and wonder as we would have among us of giants!" of these and thousands more marvellous is fairyland full; full of things startling and splendid and grewsome and visionary: ----full of noises, sounds and sweet airs that give delight, and hurt not. any picture of it is tame, any worded description dull and heavy, to you who discover it daily at first hand, and who know its faces and voices, which fade too quickly from the brain. all fine adventures spring thence: all loveliest color, odor and companionship are in that stirring, sparkling world. can you not help us back there for an hour? who knows the path? who can draw a map, and set up a sign-post? who can bar the gate, when we are safe inside, and keep us forever and ever in our forsaken "dear sweet land of once-upon-a-time"? chapter xii. the passing of the little people. there was once a very childish child who laid her fairy-book on its face across her knee, and sat all the morning watching the cups of the honeysuckle, grieved that not one solitary elf was left to swing on its sun-touched edges, and laugh back at her, with unforgetful eyes. we are sorry for her, and sorry with her. the little people, alas! have gone away; would that they might return! no man knows why nor when they left us; nor whither they turned their faces. the exodus was made softly and slowly, till the whole bright tribe had stolen imperceptibly into exile. mills, steam-engines and prowling disbelievers joined to banish them; their poetic and dreamy drama is over, their magic lamp out, and their jocund music hushed and forbidden. or perhaps they of themselves went lingeringly and sorrowfully afar, because the world had grown too rough for them. geoffrey chaucer, in the fourteenth century, wrote in his sweet, tranquil fashion: in olde dayes of the kyng arthour . . . al was this lond fulfilled of faerie . . . . . i speke of mony hundrid yeer ago; but now can no man see non elves mo: which you may understand as an announcement somewhat ahead of time. for many, many "elves mo" were on record after the good poet's lyre was hushed, and "thick as motes in the sunbeam" centuries after their reported flight. there have been sound-headed folk in every age, of whom chaucer was one, who jested over the poor fairies and their arts, and spoke of them only for gentle satire's sake. but though chaucer was sure the goblins had perished, his neighbors saw manifold lively specimens of the race, without stirring out of the parish. up to two hundred years ago prayers were said in the churches against bad fairies! [illustration: "al was this lond fulfilled of faerie."] sir walter scott related that the last brownie was the brownie of bodsbeck, who lived there long, and vanished, as is the wont of his clan, when the mistress of the house laid milk and a piece of money in his haunts. he was loath to go, and moaned all night: "farewell to bonnie bodsbeck!" till his departure at break of day. a girl from norfolk, england, questioned by mr. thomas keightley, admitted that she had often seen the _frairies_, dressed in white, coming up from their little cities underground! mr. john brand saw a man who said he had seen one that had seen fairies! and mr. robert hunt, author of the _drolls and traditions of old cornwall_, wrote that forty years ago every rock and field in that country was peopled with them! and that "a gentleman well-known in the literary world of london very recently saw in devonshire a troop of fairies! it was a breezy summer afternoon, and these beautiful little creatures were floating on circling zephyrs up the side of a sunlit hill, fantastically playing, 'where oxlips and the nodding violet grow.' so here are three trustworthy gentlemen, makers of books on this special subject, and none of them very long dead, to offset master geoffrey chaucer, and to bring the "lond fulfilled of faerie" closer than he dreamed. about the year 1865, a correspondent told mr. hunt the following queer little story: [illustration: fairy stories.] "i heard last week of three fairies having been seen in zennor very recently. a man who lived at the foot of trendreen hill in the valley of treridge, i think, was cutting furze on the hill. near the middle of the day he saw one of the small people, not more than a foot long, stretched at full length and fast asleep, on a bank of heath, surrounded by high brakes of furze. the man took off his furze-cuff and slipped the little man into it without his waking up, went down to the house, and took the little fellow out of the cuff on the hearthstone, when he awoke, and seemed quite pleased and at home, beginning to play with the children, who were well pleased also with the small body, and called him bobby griglans. the old people were very careful not to let bob out of the house, nor be seen by the neighbors, as he had promised to show the man where crocks of gold were buried on the hill. a few days after he was brought, all the neighbors came with their horses, according to custom, to bring home the winter's reek of furze, which had to be brought down the hill in trusses on the backs of the horses. that bob might be safe and out of sight, he and the children were shut up in the barn. whilst the furze-carriers were in to dinner, the prisoners contrived to get out to have a run round the furze-reek, when they saw a little man and woman not much larger than bob, searching into every hole and corner among the trusses that were dropped round the unfinished reek. the little woman was wringing her hands and crying 'o my dear and tender skillywidden! wherever canst thou be gone to? shall i ever cast eyes on thee again?' 'go 'e back!' says bob to the children; 'my father and mother are come here too.' he then cried out: 'here i am, mammy!' by the time the words were out of his mouth, the little man and woman, with their precious skillywidden, were nowhere to be seen, and there has been no sight nor sign of them since. the children got a sound thrashing for letting skillywidden escape." [illustration: the capture of skillywidden.] such is the latest evidence we can find of the whereabouts of our goblins. we may, however, consider ourselves their contemporaries, since among the peasantry of many countries over-seas, the belief is not yet extinct. but it is pretty clear to us, modern and american as we are (safer in so thinking than anybody was anywhere before!) that the "restless people," as the scotch called them, are at rest, and clean quit of this world; and perhaps satisfied, at last, of their chance of salvation, along with fortunate christians. such a great system as this of fairy-lore, propped on such show of earnestness, grew up, not of a sudden like a mushroom after a july rain, but gradually and securely, like a coral-reef. and the dream-building was not nonsense at all, but a way of putting what was evident and marvellous into a familiar guise. if certain strange things, which are called phenomena, happened--things like the coming of pebbles from clouds, music from sand, sparkling light from decay, or disease and death from the mere handling of a velvety leaf--then our forefathers, instead of gazing straight into the eyes of the fact, as we are taught to do, looked askance, and made a fantastic rigmarole concerning the pebbles, or the music, and passed it down as religion and law. the simple-minded citizens of old referred any trifling occurrence, pleasant or unpleasant, to the fairies. the demons and deities, according to their notion of fitness, governed in vaster matters; and the new, potent sprites took shape in the popular brain as the controllers of petty affairs. if a shepherd found one of his flock sick, it had been elf-shot; if a girl's wits went wool-gathering, it was a sign she had been in fairyland; if a cooing baby turned peevish and thin, it was a changeling! wherever you now see a mist, a cobweb, a moving shadow on the grass; wherever you hear a cricket-chirp, or the plash of a waterfall, or the cry of the bird on the wing, there of yore were the fairy-folk in their beauty. they stood in the mind to represent the lesser secrets of nature, to account for some wonder heard and seen. it was many a century before nations stopped romancing about the brave things on land and sea, and began to speculate, to observe more keenly, to hunt out reasons, and to lift the haze of their own fancy from heroic facts and deeds. think a moment of the danish moon-man, who breathed pestilence, and the moon-woman, whose harp was so charming. well, the moon-man meant nothing else than the marsh, slimy and dangerous, which yielded a malarial odor; and the wee woman with her harp represented the musical night-wind, which played over the marsh rushes and reeds. was it not so, too, with the larger myths of greece? for the story of proserpine, carried away by the god of the under world, and after a weary while, given back for half-a-year to her fond mother ceres, tells really of the seed-corn which is cast into her dark soil, and long hidden; but reappears in glory, and stays overground for months, basking in the sun. and so on with many a fable, which we read, unguessing of the thought and purpose beneath. though it was erring, we can hardly thank too much that joyous and reverent old paganism which fancied it saw divinity in each move of nature, kept a natural piety towards everything that lived, and made a thousand sweet memoranda, to remind us forever of the wonder and charm of our earth. all mythology, and the part the fairies play in it, stands for what is true. ----"still doth the old instinct bring back the old names": and again and again, when we cite some beautiful fiction of merman and kobold, of white dwarf or pooka, we but repeat, whether aware of it or not, how the dews come down at morning, or the storm-wind breaks the strong trees, or how a comet, trailing light, bursts headlong across the wide sky. to comprehend fairy-stories, to get under the surface of them, we would have to go over them all at great length, and with exhaustless patience. and as in digging for the tendrils of a delicate, berry-laden vine, we have to search, sometimes, deep and wide into the woodland loam, among gnarly roots of shrubs and giant pines, so in tracing the sources of the simplest tale which makes us glad or sad, we fall across a network of ponderous ancient lore; of custom, prejudice, and lost day-dreams, from which this vine, also, is hard to be severed. the spirit of these neat little goblin-chronicles was right and sincere; but the matter of them was often sadly astray. of course, sometimes, useless, misleading details gathered to obscure the first idea, and to overrun it with a tangle of error; and not only were fine stories spoiled, but many were started which were funny, or silly, or grim merely, without serving any use beyond that. but so powerful is truth, when there was actually a grain of it at the centre, that even those versions which were exaggerated and distorted, played into the hands of what we call folk-lore, and laid their golden key at the feet of science. you will discover that, besides pointing out the workings of the natural world, the fairy-tales rested often on the workings of our own minds and consciences. the brownie was a little schoolmaster set up to teach love of order, and the need of perfect courtesy; the nix betokened anything sweet and beguiling, which yet was hurtful, and to which it was, and is, a gallant heart's duty not to yield. and thus, from beginning to end, the elves at whom we laugh, help us toward larger knowledge, and a more chivalrous code of behavior. how shall we say, then, that there never was a fairy? [illustration: good-bye] a miner, hearing the drip of subterranean water, took it to be a duergar or a bucca, swinging his tiny hammer over the shining ore. his notion of the bucca, askew as it was, was one at bottom with our knowledge of the dark brooklet. you, the young heirs of mighty science, can often outstrip the slow-gathered wisdom of dead philosophers. but do not despise that fine old imagination, which felt its way almost to the light. a sixteenth-century boy, who was all excitement once over the pranks of robin goodfellow, knew many precious things which our very great nineteenth-century acuteness has made us lose! good-bye, then, to the army of vanishing "gentry," and to their steadfast friends, and to you, children dear! who are the guardians of their wild unwritten records. shall you not miss them when next the moon is high on the blossomy hillocks, and the thistledown, ready-saddled, plunges to be off and away? merry fellows they were, and shrewd and just; and we were very fond of them; and now they are gone. and their going, like a mounting harmony, note by note, which ends in one noble chord, with a hush after it, leads us to a serious parting word. keep the fairies in kindly memory; do not lose your interest in them. they and their history have an enchanting value, which need never be outgrown nor set aside; and to the gravest mind they bring much which is beautiful, humane and suggestive. we have found that believers in the little people were not so wrong, after all; and that the eye claiming to have seen a fairy saw, verily, a sight quite as astonishing. let us think as gently of other myths to which men have given zeal, awe and admiration, of every faith hereafter which seems to us odd and mistaken. for many things which are not true in the exact sense, are yet dear to truth; and follow her as a baby's tripping tongue lisps the language of its mother, not very successfully, but still with loyalty, and with a meaning which attentive ears can always catch. surely, our ancestors loved the "span-long elves" who wrought them no great harm, and who gave them help and cheer. we will praise them, too. who knows but some little goblin's thorny finger directed many an innocent human heart to march, albeit waveringly, towards the ample light of god? * * * * * transcriber's notes: obvious punctuation errors repaired. page vii, "puck" changed to "pück" (all that pück demanded) page vii, "wa" changed to "wa" (wag-at-the-wa') page viii, "kopenick" changed to "köpenick" (kobold of köpenick) page viii, "changling" changed to "changeling" (was an irish changeling) page viii, "taknakaux" changed to "taknakanx" (taknakanx kan) page 27, "airy" changed to "fairy" (to the fairy neighbors) page 30, illustration caption, "rugen" changed to "rügen" (the isle of rügen) page 37, illustration caption, "rugen" changed to "rügen" (dwarves of rügen) page 38, repeated word "and" removed from text. original read (by twos and and threes) page 93, illustration caption, "kopenick" changed to "köpenick" (kobold of köpenick) page 169, "scources" changed to "sources" (the sources of the simplest) scanned images of public domain material from the google print archive. [illustration: book cover] the magic nuts [illustration] [illustration: the unselfish mermaid. _frontispiece._] the magic nuts by mrs. molesworth author of 'carrots,' 'cuckoo clock,' 'tell me a story,' etc. [illustration] illustrated by rosie m. m. pitman london macmillan and co., limited new york: the macmillan company 1898 in childhood, when with eager eyes the season-measured years i viewed, all garbed in fairy guise. cardinal newman. i dedicate this little story to my grand-daughter violet sara molesworth 19 sumner place, s.w., _february_ 1898. contents page chapter i night and morning 1 chapter ii apples and nuts 17 chapter iii it is hildegarde 33 chapter iv on the way 49 chapter v 'what's o'clock?' 65 chapter vi gnomeland 81 chapter vii a collation under difficulties 99 chapter viii tree-top land 115 chapter ix a concert 132 chapter x the blue-silk room 148 chapter xi 'the unselfish mermaid' 162 chapter xii 'the unselfish mermaid' (_continued_) 179 illustrations vignette _on title page_ the unselfish mermaid _frontispiece_ "take these," she said, "for good luck" _to face page_ 20 portrait of hildegarde 33 "i must give you one or two warnings" 76 manufacturing lucky pennies 86 "who sent you to kiss us, you breezes of may" 115 the unselfish mermaid 162 chapter i night and morning the way was long. _lay of the last minstrel._ little leonore pressed her face against the window of the railway carriage and tried hard to see out. but it was no use. it all looked so dark and black, all the darker and blacker for the glimmer of the rain-drops trickling down thickly outside, and reflecting the feeble light of the lamp in the roof of the compartment. leonore sighed deeply. she was very tired, more tired than she knew, for she did not feel sleepy, or as if she would give anything to be undressed and go to bed. on the contrary, she wished with all her heart that it was daylight, and that it would leave off raining, and that she could get out of the stuffy old railway train, and go for a good run. it had been raining for _so_ long, and they had been such a lot of hours shut in and bum-bumming along in this dreary way--it even seemed to her now and then as if she had _always_ been sitting in her corner like this, and that it had _always_ been night and _always_ raining outside. 'i don't believe i'm going to be happy at all at alten,' she said to herself. 'i'm sure it's going to be horrid. it's always the way if people tell you anything's going to be lovely and nice, it's sure to be dull, and--just horrid.' she glanced at the other end of the railway carriage where a lady, comfortably muffled up in the corner, was sleeping peacefully. she was not an old lady, but she was not young. to leonore she seemed past counting her age, for she never appeared to get older, and during the six or seven years she had been the little girl's governess she had not changed at all. 'i wish i could go to sleep like fraulein,' was the next thought that came into her busy brain. 'when she wakes she'll think i have been asleep, for she did tuck me up nicely. and i'm feeling as cross as cross.' then her eyes fell on the little cushion and the railway rug that she had thrown on to the floor--should she try to settle herself again and _perhaps_ manage to go to sleep? it would be so nice to wake up and find they had got there, and _surely_ it could not be very much farther. fraulein had said ten o'clock, had she not? leonore remembered sitting up one night till ten o'clock--more than a year ago--when her father was expected to arrive, and fraulein was sure he would like to find her awake to welcome him. it hadn't seemed half so late that night as it did now--would ten o'clock _never_ come? she stooped down and pulled up the rug, and tried to prop the cushion against the back of the seat for her head. it was not very easy to manage, but leonore was not a selfish child; it never occurred to her to disturb her governess for the sake of her own comfort, though fraulein would not have been the least vexed with her had she done so. just as she had made up her mind that she would try to go to sleep, she felt a slight change in the motion of the train--the bum and rattle, rattle and bum, grew fainter--was it only her fancy, or could it, oh! could it be that they were slackening speed? if so, it could only mean arriving at alten, for her governess had distinctly told her they would not stop again till they had reached their journey's end. 'sleep, my dear,' she had said, 'sleep well till i wake you, and then we shall be _there_. there will be no other stopping anywhere to disturb you.' leonore held her breath in anxiety--yes, it was no fancy--they _were_ moving more and more slowly, and through the darkness lights, which were not the glimmer of the rain-drops, began to appear. then at last there was a pull-up. 'fraulein, fraulein,' cried leonore, in great excitement, 'wake up, quick. we're _there_--do you hear? the train has stopped.' poor fraulein had started up at the first words, but leonore was too eager to leave off talking all at once, and in another moment the governess's head was out of the window, calling to a porter, for there was not too much time to spare, as the train had to start off again, not having finished _its_ journey, though some of its passengers had done so. and almost before our little girl had quite taken in that the dreary rattle and bum in the darkness were over, she found herself on the platform, her own little travelling-bag and warm cloak in her grasp, while fraulein, who insisted on loading herself as much as the porter, was chattering away to him in the cheeriest and liveliest of voices, far too fast for leonore to understand much of what she said, as if she had never been asleep in her life. 'i suppose she's very pleased to be in her own country,' thought leonore. 'i wish it wasn't night, so that i could see what it all looks like,' and she gazed about her eagerly, as she followed fraulein and the porter out of the station. something, after all, _was_ to be seen. the rain was clearing off; overhead it was almost dry, though very wet and puddly underfoot. in front of the station was a wide open space, with trees surrounding it, except where a broad road, at the end of which lamps showed some carriages waiting, led away to somewhere, though no streets or even houses were to be seen. the air felt fresh and pleasant, and leonore's spirits began to rise. 'it feels like the country,' she said to herself; 'i wonder where the town is.' but fraulein was still too busy talking to the porter and to two or three other men who had somehow sprung up, to be asked any questions just yet. one of the men had a band round his cap with some words stamped on it in gilt letters. leonore could only make out one word, 'hotel ----,' and then he turned away, and she could not see the others. by this time her governess was picking up her skirts in preparation for crossing the wet space before them. 'he says we had better step over to where the carriages are standing,' she explained to the little girl; 'it will be quicker'; and when, a moment later, the two found themselves alone, with plenty of room, in the comfortable omnibus, she lent back with a sigh of satisfaction. 'it is so pleasant to be in a land where things are well managed,' she said. 'we do not need to wait for our big luggage. i give the paper to the hotel porter, he sees to it all for us.' 'yes,' said leonore, though without paying much attention; the care of the luggage did not trouble her; 'but do tell me, fraulein, dear, where is the hotel? where are the streets and--and--everything? it seems like the country, and oh, aren't you glad to be out of the train? i thought we should never get here, and it was so dark and raining so hard, and i _couldn't_ go to sleep.' 'poor dear,' said tender-hearted fraulein, 'and i who slept comfortably for so long. had i known you were awake i would have kept awake also.' 'never mind now,' said leonore amiably; 'but tell me where we are going.' 'the station is half a mile or so out of the town,' explained the governess. 'see now, the houses are appearing. we cross the bridge--by daylight it is beautiful, such a view down the river.' but leonore did not care very much about beautiful views--not just now especially. 'i wish it wasn't so far to the town,' she said wearily, though almost as she said the words her tone changed. 'oh now,' she exclaimed brightly, 'we are really getting into the streets. how queer everything looks--do you think the people are all in bed, fraulein?' it was a natural question, for as they drove through the wide dark streets, faintly lighted by an occasional lamp, there was nothing to be seen but closed shutters and barred doors. the houses, for the most part, looked large, particularly as regarded the entrance, for many of these led into courtyards, with great double gates. fraulein nodded her head. 'they are all in their houses,' she said, 'though perhaps not all in bed yet, for it is not really so very late. in alten we keep to the good old ways, you see, my dear--"early to bed and early to rise," as your rhyme says.' 'it's very dull-looking,' said leonore discontentedly. 'it seems like a lot of prisons, and--oh----' she broke off suddenly, for they were stopping at last, or at least preparing to stop, as they turned in through a large doorway standing open to admit them into a courtyard, paved with cobble stones, and dimly lighted like the streets by an old-fashioned lamp or lantern at one side. there was more light at the other side, however, where a short flight of steps led into the hotel, and here they pulled up, to be received by a funny little man in black, with a large expanse of shirt-front, and by what looked to leonore's half-dazzled eyes like a whole troop of waiters, also in black, fluttering about him, though in reality there were only three--all the party bowing in the most polite way, and almost tumbling over each other in their eagerness to help the ladies to alight. this sort of thing was quite to leonore's taste, and for the moment all feeling of dullness or tiredness left her. she bent her head graciously to the little fat man, who was really the landlord, and allowed one of the others to take her cloak and bag. fraulein seemed more than ever in her element. yes; rooms were ready for the ladies--two bedrooms opening into each other--would they have supper upstairs, or (and as he spoke the polite little man threw open a door they were passing) in here? 'here' being the large dining-room. they would be quite undisturbed. 'oh, in here, fraulein, do say in here,' said leonore, 'i don't like eating in bedrooms; it makes me feel as if i had the measles or something. and, i'm not sure, but i think i'm rather hungry, so mayn't we have supper at once?' fraulein was quite willing, and supper, in the shape of chocolate and an omelette, would be ready immediately. so the two settled themselves at one end of the long narrow table, and leonore's eyes set to work to see what they could see by the light of the two not very bright lamps. 'what a funny old man,' she exclaimed. 'look, fraulein, the walls are all dark wood like a church, and the ceiling has white carvings on it, and the floor is red and black squares like the kitchen at aunt isabella's. and it isn't like a hotel, is it? not like the one at paris, where there was such a bustle. i don't believe there's anybody staying here except you and me.' 'oh yes, there are probably other people,' said fraulein, 'but it is long past proper supper-time, you see, my dear. it is very polite of the landlord to have received us himself, and to have all the waiters in attendance.' and by the way fraulein leant back in her chair leonore saw that she was in a state of great satisfaction with everything, and exceedingly delighted to find herself again in her own country. upstairs, where they soon made their way, guided by two, if not three, of the attentive waiters, the house seemed even queerer and older than down below. leonore was now getting too sleepy to notice anything very clearly, but the dark wainscotted walls, the long passages and funny little staircases, struck her as very mysterious and interesting, and she said to herself that she would have a good exploring the next day. the bedrooms prepared for them looked large and imposing, partly perhaps because the candles left the corners in darkness. the beds were small and cosy, with their white eider-down quilts, and very comfortable too, as the tired little girl stretched herself out with a sigh of relief and content, to fall asleep long before fraulein had completed her unpackings and arrangements. if leonore had any dreams that night she did not know it, for the sun had been up some hours before she awoke, though it was already late autumn. she did not feel at all ashamed of her laziness however, and considering everything i do not see that she had any reason to feel so. and she gave a cry of welcome and pleasure as she caught sight of the merry little rays of sunshine creeping over the white bed as if to wish her a kindly good morning. 'oh i _am_ glad it is a fine day,' she thought to herself, 'and i am so glad we are not going in that horrid old train again.' she lay still and looked about her. yes, it was a curiously old-fashioned room; even a child could see at once that the house must be very, very old. 'i wonder if many little girls have slept here and waked up in the morning, and looked at the funny walls and queer-shaped ceiling just like i'm doing,' she thought to herself. 'some of them must be quite old women by now, and perhaps even, lots who have been dead for hundreds of years have lived here. how queer it is to think of! i wonder if fraulein is awake, and i do hope we shall have breakfast soon. i'm so hungry.' the sound of a tap seemed to come as an answer to these questions and hopes, and as fraulein put her head in at one door, a maid carrying a bath and a large can of hot water appeared at the other. she was a pleasant-faced girl with rosy cheeks, and as she passed the bed she wished the young lady good morning with a smile. 'you are awake, my child?' said the governess. 'that is right. you have slept well? call me as soon as you want me to help you to do your hair, and then we shall have our breakfast. you would rather have it downstairs, i suppose?' 'oh yes,' said leonore decidedly. 'i am quite rested, fraulein, and i want dreadfully to go downstairs and see this funny old place by daylight, and i want to look out of the window to see if the streets look nice, and--and----' 'well, get dressed first, my dear,' said her governess, pleased to find the little girl in such a cheerful frame of mind. 'it is just a trifle cold, though it will probably be warmer as the day goes on, thanks to this bright sunshine. you have had rainy weather lately, i suppose?' she went on, turning to the maid-servant. the girl held up her hands. 'rain,' she repeated, 'yes, indeed, i should rather think so--rain, rain, rain, for ever so many days. the ladies have brought us the sunshine.' so it seemed, for when they made their way downstairs, leonore scarcely knew the dining-room again, it looked so bright and cheerful in comparison with the night before. their coffee and rolls had not yet made their appearance, so the little girl flew to the window to see what she could through the muslin blinds. for the window opened straight out on to the pavement, so that any inquisitive passer-by could peep in, which made the blinds quite necessary, as, though it is very pleasant to look out, it is not equally so to feel that strangers can look in when one is sitting at table. leonore pulled a tiny corner of the blind aside. 'oh, fraulein,' she exclaimed, 'it is such a nice street. and there are lots of people passing, and shops a little way off, and i see the top of a big old church quite near, and--and--a sort of open square place up that short street--do you see?' fraulein having joined her by this time. 'that is the market-place,' said her governess, 'and i rather think--yes, i am sure it is market-day to-day.' leonore danced about in excitement. 'oh, _please_ take me to see it,' she said. 'i have never seen a proper market, and perhaps the people would have funny dresses--costumes like what you were telling me about. do you think we should see any of them?' 'i hope so,' said fraulein, 'we must go out as soon as we have had breakfast and see. i have to ask about a carriage to take us to dorf. i almost wish----' 'what?' asked leonore. 'that we could stay till to-morrow, if alten amuses you so--indeed, i do not see why we need hurry. my aunt is not quite certain what day we are coming, and she is _quite_ certain to be ready for us whenever we arrive. indeed, i have no doubt she has had our rooms prepared for weeks past, so good and careful a housewife is she. our beds will have been aired every day, i daresay.' but leonore was scarcely old enough to care whether the beds were aired or not. for the moment her whole thoughts were running on having a good exploring of the quaint town which had so taken her fancy, and while she drank her coffee and munched the nice crisp rolls, which tasted better than any bread she had ever eaten before, she kept urging her governess to stay another day where they were. 'you see,' she said, 'i'm so used to the country, and we shall be there all the winter, and i daresay it _will_ be rather dull.' 'i hope not,' said fraulein, somewhat anxiously. 'i shall do my best, you know, my child, to make you happy, and so will my good aunt, i am sure.' 'oh yes, i know you are always very kind,' said leonore, with a funny little tone of condescension which she sometimes used to her governess. 'but, you see, it _must_ be dull when anybody has no brothers and sisters, and no mamma--and papa so far away.' she gave a little sigh. she rather liked to pity herself now and then, and it made fraulein all the kinder, but in reality she was not in some ways so much to be pitied as might have seemed. for she could not remember her mother, and she had been accustomed all her life to her father's being as a rule away from her, though when he _was_ in england he spent most of his time in planning pleasures for his little daughter. then she had had plenty of kind aunts and uncles, and, above all, the constant care of her devoted fraulein. but fraulein's heart was _very_ tender. she kissed leonore fondly, and as soon as breakfast was over, out they sallied, after settling that they should stay at alten another night, to please the little lady. chapter ii apples and nuts i love old women best, i think; she knows a friend in me.--ashe. it _was_ market-day, to leonore's great delight, and scarcely less to that of her governess. the scene was a busy and amusing one, and added to that was the charm of everything being so new to the little girl. she wanted to buy all sorts of treasures, but when fraulein reminded her that there was no hurry, and that she would probably have plenty of chances of choosing the things that took her fancy at the yearly fair at dorf, or in the little village shops there, she gave in, and contented herself with some delicious tiny pots and jugs, which she declared must _really_ have been made by fairies. 'you are in the country of fairies now,' said fraulein, smiling. 'not fairyland itself, of course, but one of the earth countries which lie nearest its borders.' leonore looked up gravely. some feeling of the kind had already come over her--ever since their arrival the night before at the queer old inn, she had felt herself in a sort of new world, new to her just because of its strange oldness. 'oh, fraulein,' she said, 'i do like you to say that. do you really mean it? and is dorf as near fairyland as this dear old town, do you think?' 'quite, i should say,' replied fraulein, taking up the little girl's fancy. 'even nearer, perhaps. there are wonderful old woods on one side of the village, which look like the very home of gnomes and kobolds and all kinds of funny people. and----' she broke off abruptly, for leonore had given her arm a sudden tug. 'do look, fraulein,' she said in a half whisper. '_isn't_ she like an old fairy? and she's smiling as if she understood what we were saying.' 'she' was a tiny little old woman, seated in a corner of the market-place, with her goods for sale spread out before her. these were but a poor display--a few common vegetables, a trayful of not very inviting-looking apples, small and grayish, and a basket filled with nuts. but the owner of these seemed quite content. she glanced up as leonore stopped to gaze at her and smiled--a bright, half-mischievous sort of smile, which was reflected in her twinkling eyes, and made her old brown wrinkled face seem like that of an indiarubber doll. fraulein looked at her too with interest in her own kindly blue eyes. 'she must be very poor,' she said. fraulein was very practical, though she was fond of fairy stories and such things too. 'oh, do let us buy something from her,' said leonore. 'i've plenty of money, you know--and if you'll lend me a little, you can pay yourself back when you get my english gold pound changed, can't you, dear fraulein? i have spent those funny pretence-silver pennies you gave me yesterday.' fraulein opened her purse and put two small coins into the child's hand. 'buy apples with one of these,' she said; 'that will be enough to please the poor old thing.' 'and nuts with the other?' asked leonore. fraulein shook her head. 'nuts are so indigestible, my little girl,' she replied; 'and though these apples are not pretty, i am not sure but that they may taste better than they look. i have a sort of remembrance of some ugly little gray apples in this neighbourhood which were rather famous.' her 'pretence-silver' penny procured for leonore a good handful, or handkerchief-full--for the fruit-seller had no paper-bags to put them in--of the apples. and when she had got them safe, and was turning away, the old woman stretched out a brown wizened hand again with another of her queer smiles. [illustration: "take these," she said, "for good luck."] 'take these,' she said, 'for good luck.' 'these' were a few of the nuts. if leonore had wished to refuse them, she could hardly have done so, for before she had time to do more than thank the giver politely, the dame was busy talking to some other customer, who had stopped in front of her little table. fraulein had walked on. leonore ran after her. 'see,' she said, holding out her nuts, 'see what the old woman gave me. what shall i do with them, if i mustn't eat them? i don't like to throw them away, when she gave me them as a present.' 'no, of course not,' said fraulein at once. 'put them in your jacket pocket, dear, and perhaps you may eat two or three of them when we go in.' leonore slipped the nuts into her pocket as she was told, and soon after, the clock of the great church striking twelve, she and her governess made their way back to the hotel. 'i do not want you to be tired,' said fraulein, 'for this afternoon i should like to take you to see one or two of the curious old houses here, as well as the interior of the church'; for the market and the shops had taken up leonore's attention so much, that they had had no time for anything else in the way of sight-seeing. dinner was rather a long affair, and tried the little girl's patience. there seemed twice or three times as many dishes as were needed, even though there were several other guests at the long table besides themselves, none of whom, however, were very interesting. 'i hope we shan't have such a lot to eat at your aunt's house, fraulein,' said leonore in a low voice, towards the end of the meal, with a sigh. 'it seems such a pity not to be out-of-doors, when it's so bright and sunny.' 'we shall have plenty of time, dear,' said her governess. 'see, we are at dessert now. and you will probably feel more tired this evening than you expect. no, my aunt lives more simply, though you will like her puddings and cakes, i am sure.' the afternoon passed very pleasantly and quickly, though, as fraulein had expected, leonore did feel more tired when they came in for the second time than she had thought she would be, and quite ready for bed-time when it came--indeed, not sorry to allow that the dustman's summons was there, half an hour or so earlier than usual. 'your eyes are looking quite sleepy, my child,' said fraulein; 'and though we have no more long railway journeys before us, we have a drive of some hours to-morrow, and i should like you to reach dorf feeling quite fresh. it makes such a difference in one's impressions of things if one is tired or not, and i do want your first feelings about our temporary home to be very pleasant ones.' leonore was used to her governess's rather prim, long-winded way of saying things, and had learnt by practice to pick out the kernel--always a kind one--of her speeches very quickly. 'yes,' she said, 'i know how you mean. last night in the railway train, before we got here, i thought everything was perfectly horrid and miserable and would never get nice again. and to-day i've been so happy--even though i _am_ tired and sleepy now,' she added, looking rather puzzled. 'there must be different ways of being tired, i suppose.' 'undoubtedly there are--but we won't talk any more to-night. i am so glad you have been happy to-day.' and sleepy leonore went off to bed, and was soon in dreamland. she had forgotten all about her apples and nuts--the former fraulein found tied up in the handkerchief after the little girl had fallen asleep, and put them into her travelling-bag, thinking they might be nice to eat during the drive the next day, but the nuts did not come into her mind at all. 'we certainly seem very lucky,' she said to leonore the next morning, as they were at breakfast. 'the weather could not be better, especially when we remember that it is already late autumn. my aunt will be so pleased at it; her last letter was full of regrets about the rain and fears of its lasting.' leonore glanced towards the window. the clear gray-blue sky was to be seen above the blinds, and the pale yellow sunshine was straying in as if to wish them good-morning. 'is it a very long drive to dorf?' she asked. 'about three hours,' fraulein replied. 'it is longer through being partly uphill; but at the steepest bit the road is very pretty, so it may be pleasant to get out and walk a little.' 'yes, i should like that,' said leonore. and then fraulein went on to tell her that she had arranged for them to have dinner a little earlier than usual by themselves, so as to start in good time to reach dorf by daylight. and when they started in a comfortable though rather shabby carriage, with their lighter luggage strapped on behind, the horses' collar bells ringing merrily, and the wheels making what leonore called a lovely clatter on the old paved streets, the little girl's spirits rose still higher, and she began to think that fraulein's praises of her own country had not been too great. the first half of the way was fairly level, and not, so it seemed to leonore, very unlike the part of england where she had spent most of her life, except, that is to say, the two or three villages through which they passed. these reminded her of pictures of switzerland which she had seen--the houses having high pointed roofs, with deep eaves, and many of them little staircases outside. some of them too were gaily painted in colours on a white ground, which she admired very much. and after a time the road began gently to ascend, and then indeed, as fraulein said, the likeness to switzerland grew greater. for now it skirted pine woods on one side, and on the other the ground fell away sharply, here and there almost like a precipice; and before very long the driver pulled up, getting down to push a heavy stone behind the wheel, to prevent the carriage slipping back while he gave the horses a rest. 'mayn't we get out here and walk on a little way?' asked leonore, and fraulein said 'yes,' it was just what she had been intending. 'it _is_ pretty here,' said leonore, looking about her with satisfaction; 'the woods are so thick and dark--i love christmas-tree woods--and the road goes winding such a nice funny way. and see, fraulein, there's another little well, all mossy, and the water _so_ clear. doesn't the running and trickling sound pretty? and, oh yes, there are goats down there, goats with bells. i hear them tinkling, and the man with them has some kind of a music-pipe--listen, fraulein.' they stood still for a moment, the better to catch the mingled soft sounds which leonore spoke of. and behind them, some little way off, came the tingling of their horses' louder bells, and the voice of the driver talking to them and cracking his whip encouragingly. 'it _is_ nice,' said leonore. 'i'm getting to be very glad papa settled for me to come here with you, fraulein.' the good lady's eyes sparkled with pleasure. 'and i am glad too, more glad than i can say,' she replied, 'and so will my kind aunt be, if we can make you really happy at dorf.' 'are we half-way there yet?' asked leonore. 'quite that, but the rest of the way is mostly uphill, so it takes longer, you see.' as she spoke, fraulein drew something out of the little bag on her arm which she was seldom without. it was one of the small grayish apples which they had bought from the old woman in the market-place. 'you forgot these,' she said, holding the apple out to leonore. 'i found them last night after you were asleep, and i thought you might like one or two on our way to-day. i believe they will prove very good.' 'how stupid of me to have forgotten them,' said the little girl, as she bit off a piece. 'yes,' she went on, 'it is very good indeed--you would not believe how sweet and juicy it tastes. won't you eat one yourself?' fraulein was quite willing to do so, and soon got out another. 'the rest,' she said, 'are in my travelling-bag in the carriage. i am glad i was not mistaken,' she went on. 'i felt sure they were the same ugly little apples i remember as a child.' 'and oh,' said leonore, suddenly diving into her jacket pocket, 'that reminds me, fraulein--where are the nuts she gave me? they're not in this pocket, and,' feeling in the other, 'oh dear! they must have dropped out; there are only three left, and i am sure she gave me at least twenty.' 'well, never mind, dear,' said the governess, who was contentedly munching her apple. 'they would not have been good for you to eat--you would have had to throw them away, and so long as the poor old dame's feelings were not hurt, it really is of no consequence.' but leonore was still eyeing the three nuts in her hand with a look of regret. 'i don't know,' she said. 'i might have used them for counters, or played with them somehow. it seems unkind to have lost them--do you want me to throw these last three away?' she went on rather plaintively. 'oh no,' said fraulein, 'you may keep them certainly if you like. and even if you eat them, _three_ can't do you much harm.' 'i don't want to eat them,' said leonore, 'but i should like to _keep_ them,' and she stowed them away in her pocket again with a more satisfied look on her face. as she did so, a sound, seemingly quite near, made her start and look round. it was that of a soft yet merry laugh, low and musical and clear, though faint. 'did you hear that, fraulein?' said the little girl. 'what?' asked her governess. 'somebody laughing, close to us--such a pretty laugh, like little silver bells.' 'most likely it was the bells, the goats' little bells. i heard nothing else,' fraulein replied. leonore shook her head. 'no,' she said,' it was different from that, quite different. and the goats are some way off now; listen, you can only just hear them. and the laughing was quite near.' but fraulein only smiled. 'there could not have been any one quite near without my hearing it too,' she replied, 'even if----' but here she stopped. she had said enough, however, to rouse her pupil's curiosity. 'even if what?' repeated leonore; 'do tell me what you were going to say, dear fraulein.' 'i was only joking, or going to joke,' her governess answered. 'it came into my head that the woods about here--as indeed about most parts of this country--are said to be a favourite place for the fairies to visit. _some_ kinds of fairies, you know--gnomes and brownies and such like. the kinds that don't live in fairyland itself make their homes in the woods, by preference to anywhere else.' 'and do you think it _might_ have been one of them i heard laughing?' asked leonore eagerly. 'oh, how lovely! but then, why didn't you hear it too, fraulein, and what was it laughing at, do you think? i wasn't saying anything funny. i was only----' 'dear child,' said fraulein, 'do not take me up so seriously. i am afraid your papa and your aunts would not think me at all a sensible governess if they heard me chattering away like this to you. of course i was only joking.' leonore looked rather disappointed. 'i wish you _weren't_ joking,' she said. 'i can't see that people need be counted silly who believe in fairies and nice queer things like that. _i_ think the people who don't are the stupid silly ones. and you will never make me think i _didn't_ hear some one laugh, fraulein--i just know i did.' then after a little pause she added, 'would your old aunt think me very silly for believing about fairies? if she has lived so near fairyland all her life i shouldn't think she would.' this was rather a poser for poor fraulein. 'she would not think you _silly_!' she replied; 'that is to say, she loves fairy stories herself. life would indeed be very dull if we had no pretty fancies to brighten it with.' 'oh, but,' said leonore, 'that's just what i don't want. i mean i don't want to count fairy stories _only_ stories--not real. i like to think there _are_ fairies and brownies and gnomes, and all sorts of good people like that, though it isn't very often that mortals'--she said the last word with great satisfaction--'see them. i am always hoping that some day _i_ shall. and if this country of yours, fraulein dear, is on the borders of fairyland, i don't see why i don't run a very good chance of coming across some of them while we are here. they are much more likely to show themselves to any one who does believe in them, i should say. don't you think so?' fraulein laughed. 'i remember feeling just as you do, my child, when i was a little girl,' she said. 'but time has gone on, and i am no longer young, and i am obliged to confess that i have never seen a fairy.' 'perhaps you didn't believe _enough_ in them,' said leonore sagely; and to herself she added, 'i have a sort of idea that fraulein's aunt knows more about them than fraulein does. i shall soon find out, though i won't say anything for a day or two till i see. but nothing will ever make me believe that i didn't hear somebody laughing just now.' her hand had strayed again to her jacket pocket as she said this to herself, and her fingers were feeling the nuts. 'it is funny that just three are left,' she thought, 'for so often in fairy stories you read about three nuts, or three kernels. i won't crack _my_ nuts in a hurry, however.' a few minutes more brought them to the summit of the steep incline, and soon the driver's voice and the cracking of his whip as he cheered up his horses sounded close behind them. he halted for a short time to give his animals a little rest, and then fraulein and leonore got back into the carriage. 'the rest of the way is almost level,' said the former; 'quite so as we enter dorf. you will see, leonore, how fast we shall go at the end. the drivers love to make a clatter and jingle to announce their arrival. no doubt my aunt will hear it, and be at the gate some minutes before she can possibly see us.' [illustration: portrait of hildegarde.] chapter iii it is hildegarde a pair of friends.--wordsworth. fraulein was right. both driver and horses woke up wonderfully as the first straggling houses of the village came in sight; it would be impossible to describe the extraordinary sounds and ejaculations which friedrich, as he was called, addressed to his steeds, but which they evidently quite understood. 'how nice it is to go so fast, and to hear the bells jingling so,' said leonore. 'i wish we had farther to go.' 'if that were the case we should soon sober down again,' said fraulein with a smile, adding the next moment, 'and here we are. see the good aunt, my child, as i told you--standing at the gate, just as i last saw her, when i left her five years ago! but then it was parting and tears--now it is meeting and joy.' tears nevertheless were not wanting in the eyes of both the good ladies--tears of happiness, however, which were quickly wiped away. 'how well you are looking--not a day older,' said the niece. 'and you, my elsa--how well _you_ look. a trifle stouter perhaps, but that is an improvement. you have always been too thin, my child,' said the aunt, fondly patting fraulein's shoulders, though she had to reach up to do so. then she moved quickly to leonore with a little exclamation of apology. 'and i have not yet welcomed our guest. welcome to dorf, my fraulein--a thousand times welcome, and may you be as happy here as the old aunt will wish to make you.' leonore had been standing by eyeing the aunt and niece with the greatest interest. it amused her much to hear her governess spoken to as 'my child,' for to _her_ fraulein seemed quite old, long past the age of thinking _how_ old she was. indeed, the white-haired little lady did not seem to her much older! 'thank you,' she said in reply to the aunt's kind words. 'i hope i shall be very happy here, but please don't call me anything but leonore.' 'as you please,' her new friend replied, while fraulein smiled beamingly. she was most anxious that her aunt and her pupil should make friends, and she knew that, though leonore was a polite and well-mannered little girl, she had likes and dislikes of her own, and not always quite reasonable ones. perhaps, to put it shortly, she felt anxious that her charge was just a trifle spoilt, and that she herself had had a hand in the spoiling. 'a motherless child,' she had said to herself many and many a time in excuse during the five years she had had the care of leonore, for fraulein had gone to her when the little girl was only four years old, 'and her papa so far away! who could be severe with her?' not tender-hearted fraulein elsa, most certainly! so she felt especially delighted when leonore replied so prettily to her aunt, and still more so when the child lifted up her face for the kiss of welcome which aunt anna was only too ready to bestow, though she would have been rather surprised had she known the thoughts that were in leonore's head at the moment. 'i believe she _does_ know something about fairies,' the little girl was saying to herself. 'she has nice twinkly eyes, and--oh, i don't know what makes me think so, but i believe she _does_ understand about them. any way, she won't be like my aunts in england who always want me to read improving books and say i am getting too big for fairy stories.' that first evening in the quaint old village was full of interest for leonore. aunt anna's house in itself was charming to her, for though really small as to the size and number of its rooms, it did not seem so. there were such nice 'twisty' passages, and funny short flights of steps, each leading perhaps to only one room, or even to nothing more than a landing with a window. and, standing at one of these, the little girl made a grand discovery, which took her flying off to the room where fraulein was busily unpacking the boxes which the carrier had already brought. 'fraulein, fraulein,' she cried; 'i've been looking out at the back of the house, and just across the yard there's a lovely sort of big courtyard and buildings round it, and i saw a man all white and powdery carrying sacks. is there a mill here?' 'yes, my dear,' fraulein replied. 'did i not tell you? it is a very old mill, and the same people have had it for nearly a hundred years--such nice people too. i will take you all over it in a day or two--it will amuse you to see the different kinds of grain and flour, all so neatly arranged.' 'and the same people have been there for nearly a hundred years!' exclaimed leonore. 'how _very_ old they must be.' fraulein laughed. though leonore was so fond of wonders and fancies, she was sometimes very matter-of-fact. aunt anna, who just then joined them, smiled kindly. 'elsa did not mean the same _persons_,' she explained, 'but the same family--the same name. those there now--the miller himself--is the great-grandson of the man who was there first when the mill was built, which was, i think, fully _more_ than a hundred years ago,' she added, turning to her niece. leonore looked rather disappointed. 'oh,' she said, 'i thought it would be so nice to see people who were a hundred. then, i suppose, the people here aren't any older than anywhere else.' 'i can scarcely say that,' aunt anna replied. 'there are some very old, and--there are odd stories about a few of the aged folk. i know one or two who do not seem to have grown any older since _i_ can remember, and my memory goes back a good way now. but, my dears, i came to tell you that supper is ready--we must not let it get cold.' she held out her hand to leonore as she spoke. the little girl took it, and went off with her very happily, fraulein calling after them that she would follow immediately. 'please tell me, aunt anna,' said leonore--it had been decided that she should thus address the old lady--'please tell me, do you mean that some of these very old people who don't grow any older are a kind of _fairy_?' she spoke almost in a whisper, but she was quite in earnest. 'well,' said aunt anna, 'this country is on the borders of fairyland, so who can say? when we were children--i and my brothers and sisters and the little barons and baronesses up at the castle--when we all played together long ago, we used often to try to find the way there--and fairies, of course, are much cleverer than we are. i don't see why some of them may not stray into our world sometimes.' 'and pretend to be _not_ fairies,' said leonore eagerly. 'p'raps they go back to fairyland every night, and are here every day; fairies don't need to go to sleep ever, do they?' but aunt anna had not time to reply just then, for supper was on the table, and all her attention was given to seeing that the dishes were what they should be, and in helping her little guest to leonore's liking. when fraulein joined them, however, the conversation took a more general turn. 'i was speaking just now to leonore,' aunt anna began, 'of my childhood--when your dear father, elsie, and the others, and i used to play with the castle children. and that reminds me that i have a piece of news for you--things repeat themselves it is said. it will be strange if a second generation----' she said no more, and for a moment or two seemed lost in thought--the thought of the past! fraulein was used to her aunt's ways; the old lady was a curious mixture of practical commonsense and dreamy fancifulness. but after a little pause the niece recalled her to the present. 'a piece of news, you said, aunt? good news, i hope?' she inquired. 'i think so,' said the aunt. 'it is about the family at the castle. little baroness hildegarde is probably, almost certainly, coming here to spend the winter with her grandparents. she may arrive any day.' 'oh i _am_ pleased to hear it,' said fraulein. 'it was just what i was hoping might happen, but i dared scarcely think of it. it would be so nice for our dear leonore to have a companion.' leonore pricked up her ears at this. 'yes, my dear,' fraulein went on, in answer to the question in her eyes, 'i have not spoken of it to you before, for there seemed so little chance of its coming to pass. it is about the little hildegarde who would be such a delightful companion for you. she is just about your age, an only child as you are, and such a dear little girl by all accounts. i have not seen her since she was six, but aunt anna knows her well, and the family at the castle have been our most kind friends for so long.' leonore looked full of interest but rather perplexed. 'i don't quite understand,' she said. 'do you mean that the little girl is perhaps coming to live here in this house with us?' 'oh no, my dear. her own home is a good way off, but her grandpapa and grandmamma live at the castle--a large old gray house half way up the hill above the village. i will show it to you to-morrow. it is a wonderfully quaint old place. and the little baroness comes sometimes on long visits to her grandparents, who love to have her.' 'only they fear it is lonely for her, as she is accustomed to the life of a great capital,' said aunt anna. 'they were delighted to hear i was expecting a little guest, when i saw them the other day, and they told me of the probability of hildegarde's coming.' fraulein almost clapped her hands at this. 'nothing could be more fortunate,' she said. 'there will be no fear now of your finding dorf dull, my dearest leonore.' leonore smiled back in return. it was impossible not to be touched by her kind governess's anxiety for her happiness, but she herself had had no fears about being dull or lonely at dorf. she was not much accustomed to companions of her own age, and just a little shy of them, so the news of hildegarde's coming was not quite as welcome to her as to her friends. 'i should have been quite happy without anybody else,' she said to herself. 'i love old aunt anna, and i am sure she knows plenty of fairy stories whether she has ever seen any fairies herself or not.' still she felt, of course, a good deal of curiosity to see the grandchild of the castle, and could not help letting her thoughts run on her. would she be taller or smaller than herself--dark or fair, merry or quiet? above all, would she care for the same things--would she love fairies, and be always hoping to see one some day? there was plenty for leonore to think about, and dream about, that first night in the quaint little house, was there not? and dream she did. when she woke in the morning it seemed to her that she had been busy at it all night, though only one bit of her dreams remained in her memory. this bit was about hildegarde, and, strange as it seemed, about a person she had only given a passing moment's attention to--the old dame in the market-place at alt. she dreamt that she was walking along the village street, when she heard a voice calling. she was alone, and she looked back expecting to see fraulein. but no--a queer little figure was trotting after her, and as it came nearer she heard that the name that reached her ears was not 'leonore,' but 'hildegarde,' and with that, some queer feeling made her slip inside the shade of a gateway she was passing to watch what happened. and as the figure came quite close she saw that it was that of the old apple-woman--then to her surprise there came flying down the hill, for the village street lay closely below the rising ground at one side, a child all dressed in white, with fair hair blowing about her face as she ran. 'here i am,' she said, 'what is it?' and now glancing at the dame, leonore saw that she was quite changed--at first indeed she thought she was no longer there, till some unuttered voice seemed to tell her that the figure now before her was still the same person. she had grown tall and wavy-looking--her wrinkled face was smooth and fair--only the bright dark eyes remained, and as she held out her hand as if to welcome the pretty child, leonore saw that in it lay three nuts small and dry and brown--just like the three still stored in her own jacket pocket. 'take these,' said a sweet low voice, 'they will match hers. you will know what to do with them, and by their means you will bring her to me. we must make her happy--she has travelled far, and she has longed to cross the borderland. and hildegarde, for the same inner voice seemed to tell leonore that hildegarde it was, took the nuts and nodded, as if to say 'i understand,' and with that, to her great disappointment, leonore awoke! awoke, however, to what goes far to take away disappointment of such a kind. for the sun was shining brightly, her simple but cosy little room seemed painted in white and pale gold, and a soft green by the window told her that the creepers had not yet faded into their winter bareness. 'i wonder what o'clock it is,' thought the little girl, as she gazed about her in great content. 'how glad i am that it is such a fine day! i do want to go all about the village, and especially to see the castle. i _wonder_ if hildegarde is like the little girl in my dream. i do hope she is. and how funny that i should have dreamt about the nut-woman turning into a fairy--it does seem as if hildegarde must care for fairies just as i do--and as if she knew a good deal about them, too. by the bye i do hope my nuts are safe. i never remembered to take them out of my jacket pocket!' she was on the point of jumping up to see if they were still there when the door opened softly and fraulein peeped in. she was already dressed, and her face was beaming; it seemed to reflect the sunshine coming in at the window. 'oh, fraulein, dear,' said leonore, 'how lazy i am! you are dressed, and i only woke up a few minutes ago.' 'all the better, my child,' was fraulein's kind reply. 'it means, i hope, that you have slept well and soundly. my native air brings back old habits to me, you see. i was always accustomed to getting up very early here. and see, what a lovely day it is! as soon as we have had breakfast i must take you out to see the village and----' 'the castle,' interrupted leonore. 'can't we go to the castle? i do so want to know if hildegarde has come. i have been--' 'dreaming about her,' she was going to say, but something, she knew not what, made her hesitate and change the words into 'thinking of her--' 'so much.' which was of course quite true. and something of the same feeling prevented her looking for the nuts till fraulein left the room. 'it is not likely that the little baroness has already arrived,' her governess replied. 'we shall be sure to hear as soon as she comes. but we can see something of the castle _outside_ at any rate. for the next few days i think it must be all holiday-time,' she went on, smiling. 'aunt anna begs for it, and we have been working pretty steadily these last months.' leonore had no objection to this proposal, though she was fond of lessons, never having been over-dosed with them, and she jumped out of bed and bathed and dressed in the best of spirits. the nuts were quite safe in her jacket pocket. she wrapped them in a piece of paper for better security and put them back again. 'i should not like to lose them,' she thought. 'my dream has given me a feeling that there is something out of the common about them, and i should like to take them with me wherever i go. just _supposing_ i ever met any fairy sort of person, perhaps the nuts might turn out to be of use in some queer way.' after breakfast, and when fraulein had helped leonore to arrange her books and work and other little things in the room that was to serve as her schoolroom during the winter, they set off on their first ramble through and round the village. it was a pretty village--lying as it did at the foot of the hills, which were beautifully wooded, it could scarcely have been ugly. but besides these natural advantages, it was bright and clean; many of the houses, too, were pretty in themselves, with deep roofs and carved balconies, and in some cases many coloured designs painted on the outside walls. leonore was delighted; it was so different from any place she had ever seen before. 'oh, fraulein,' she exclaimed, 'it's like a toy-town. it doesn't look as if real people had built it.' 'but it looks as if very real people had built _that_, does it not?' said fraulein, stopping short and drawing leonore a little backward. '_that_' was the grim old castle, of which they now had the first view, standing lonely and gray up on the heights overlooking the village, like a stern guardian keeping watch on the doings of playful children at his feet. the little girl gazed at it with all her eyes. 'it's a real castle,' she exclaimed; 'i _am_ so pleased. it looks as if it had dungeons and--and--forti-what is the word, fraulein?' 'fortifications,' said her governess. 'you mean that it is fortified. yes; at least it used to be in the old days. there are the holes in the walls which the defenders used to shoot through in time of siege, and there are battlements still quite perfect round the front. it is so pleasant to saunter on them, and think of the strange scenes the old place must have witnessed. we can walk up the hill towards the gates if you like, and you will see a little more.' leonore, of course, _did_ like, and the nearer they got to the castle the more was she fascinated by the view of the ancient building. just outside the entrance they stood still, and fraulein began pointing out to her its different parts and giving her a little historical account of it, to which she listened with interest. suddenly--for all was very silent just then--they heard steps approaching and a clear young voice singing softly. and--fraulein stopped talking and stood gazing before her, as did leonore, till--from among the trees which bordered the short approach to the inner gateway, there appeared a childish figure, running towards them, singing as she came. a young girl, dressed all in white, with fair floating hair---'it is hildegarde,' said leonore, growing pale with excitement. for the figure was exactly like the little girl in her dream! chapter iv on the way oh, what is that country, and where can it be?--rossetti. if fraulein heard what leonore said, she did not seem surprised, for though she did not, of course, know about the little girl's curious dream, she knew that hildegarde's coming had been freely talked about the evening before. but she _was_ very astonished a moment later when hildegarde, looking up quietly, said with a smile-'i have come to meet you. i was sure i should.' 'my dear child!' exclaimed fraulein. 'how could you know? the fairies must have told you!' the little stranger smiled again. 'this is leonore,' she said, taking the other child's hand. 'grandmamma told me her name, but grandmamma did not know i should meet you'; and she shook her head with a funny little air of mystery. 'it is wonderful,' said fraulein; 'it is even wonderful that you should know _me_ again. it is five years--_five years_--since you saw me last--half your life.' 'yes,' said hildegarde, 'but i can remember longer ago than that.' she was still holding leonore's hand, and though the little english girl felt rather shy, and had not yet spoken to her new friend, yet she liked the touch of the gentle fingers and pressed them in return, while she looked at hildegarde's pretty fair face in admiration. 'i am coming soon to see aunt anna,' hildegarde went on. 'will you give her my love, fraulein elsa, and tell her so? may i come this afternoon?' 'certainly, certainly,' said fraulein; 'the sooner you and leonore make friends, the better pleased we shall all be.' at this leonore took courage. 'yes,' she said, looking earnestly at hildegarde with her serious dark eyes. 'i want _very much_ to be friends.' 'it will not take long,' said hildegarde, and then, for the first time, leonore noticed that the little girl's eyes were not like any she had ever seen before. they were not blue, as one would have expected from her light, almost flaxen hair and fair complexion, but a kind of bright hazel-brown--with lovely flashes, almost, as it were, of sunshine, coming and going. 'they are _golden_ eyes,' thought leonore; and when she repeated this to fraulein afterwards, her governess agreed with her that she was right. 'i remember noticing their colour when she was a very tiny child,' said fraulein, thinking to herself that the two little girls made a pretty contrast, for leonore's hair was dark, as well as her eyes. hildegarde held up her face for fraulein to kiss, and then she ran off again, saying as she did so-'do not forget to tell aunt anna i am coming, and perhaps she will make some of those dear little round cakes i love so--she knows which they are. leonore will like them too, i am sure.' the day was getting on by this time; it was past noon. 'we will just stroll to the other end of the village,' said fraulein; 'from there we shall have the side view of the castle--there is a short cut down to the street at that end, by some steps, but they are rough and in need of repair, so we generally prefer the longer way. the old baron has spoken of shutting off the side entrance; he says it is only fit for goats to scramble up.' leonore thought, though she did not say so, that it would be very amusing for little girls all the same, and determined to ask hildegarde about it. she thought the castle even more interesting seen sideways than in front; it looked so very close to the thick dark trees behind, almost as if it touched them. 'i shall have lots of things to talk to hildegarde about,' she said to herself. 'these woods are _very_ fairy-looking. and i think i must tell her my strange dream about her and the nuts. i don't _think_ she would laugh at it. i hope i have them quite safe.' yes, they lay snugly in her pocket, wrapped up in the piece of paper--a nice piece of pink paper that she had found among her things. 'i will leave them where they are,' she thought, 'and then i shall be sure to remember to tell hildegarde my dream.' it was nearly dinner-time when they got back to aunt anna's, for in that part of the world big people as well as little dine in the middle of the day. aunt anna was most interested in hearing of hildegarde's arrival, and quite as delighted as fraulein had been. 'and was it not strange that she should have come to meet us?' said fraulein. 'she must have had a presentiment about it.' 'what is a presentiment?' asked leonore. 'a sort of knowing beforehand about something that is going to happen,' answered fraulein. 'many people have the feeling, but very often it does not come true, and then it is not a real presentiment. it is not everybody that has real presentiments.' aunt anna smiled. leonore was learning to love her smiles. they reminded her of some other smile--whose was it? hildegarde's?--yes, a little, perhaps, but no, she had seen hildegarde for the first time that morning, and this feeling about aunt anna's smile had come to her already yesterday. whose smile could it be? 'hildegarde is a dear child,' said aunt anna, 'and perhaps she is one of the few who know more than the everyday people. and she was born at the castle and spent her babyhood there. how well i remember the day she was christened!' 'oh, do tell me,' exclaimed leonore impulsively. 'did they have a grand feast, and did they invite any fairies? perhaps she had a fairy godmother.' 'leonore!' said fraulein, beginning to laugh. 'you are getting too fanciful--you really----' 'nay, elsa,' interrupted aunt anna. 'let the child say out what is in her mind, and remember, we are here in our dear country, close on the borders of fairyland----' 'yes, fraulein,' leonore interrupted in her turn. 'you said so yourself.' 'and assuredly,' aunt anna went on, 'if hildegarde has a fairy godmother, she has given her none but good gifts.' 'you speak as if such things were possible, my dear aunt,' said fraulein. 'we must not let leonore grow too fanciful. i shall have you and her taking flight in an airy chariot drawn by white swans or something of that kind some fine day, if i don't take care.' 'well, you and hildegarde can come after us in another chariot if we do,' said aunt anna, laughing. but leonore remained serious. 'please tell me, aunt anna,' she said, 'as you were at hildegarde's christening, was there any one there who _might_ have been a fairy?' aunt anna hesitated. 'there was an odd story,' she replied, 'about a beautiful lady who was met coming away from the nursery, when the baby had been left alone in her cot for a moment or two. and when the nurse went back she found her smiling and crowing and chuckling to herself as if she were six months instead of only a few days old, and in her little hand she was tightly clasping----' 'what?' asked leonore breathlessly. 'three nuts,' replied aunt anna impressively. 'three common little brown hazel-nuts. that part of the story is true, for hildegarde has the nuts to this day, i believe--at least she had them the last time she was here.' 'she must have picked them up somehow,' said fraulein. aunt anna shook her head. 'a baby of a few days old cannot pick things up,' she said. 'no, it has never been explained. none of the servants had put them into her hand--indeed they would not have been so foolish, and they could scarcely have had the chance of doing so. and it was said by the one or two who declared they had met her, that the beautiful lady was carrying a basket on her arm filled with common hazel-nuts, and some days afterwards one of the foresters said that late that same evening a little old woman whom he had never seen before stopped him up in the high woods to ask the way to some strange place of which he had never heard, and she--the little old woman--was carrying a basket of nuts. she offered him some, but he thought she was a witch and would not have any.' 'dear me, aunt anna,' exclaimed her niece, 'i did not know all these wonderful tales. surely they grew out of finding the nuts in the baby's hands. i do remember hearing _that_, though i had forgotten it.' 'perhaps that was the origin of it all,' said her aunt quietly. 'still, hildegarde is an uncommon child. it certainly seems as if she had received some fairy gifts, however they came to her.' leonore did not speak, but she listened intently. she would probably have not contented herself with listening but for knowing that she was so soon to see hildegarde herself again. '_she_ will be the best person to ask,' thought leonore. 'i will tell her about _my_ nuts and the little old woman who gave me them, and about the pretty laugh i heard in the wood, and then, i feel sure, she will tell me all _she_ knows.' she could scarcely finish her dinner, so eager and excited did she feel. and she was more than delighted when, at the close of the meal, kind fraulein proposed to her that, as hildegarde had come to meet _them_ that morning, leonore should show her new little friend the same attention. 'you can scarcely miss her,' she said. 'she is sure to come the same way that i took you this morning. if you get ready now, and start in a quarter of an hour or so, you will be about right, i should say. they dine early at the castle. but i should like you to change your dress in case you should be presented to the baroness--hildegarde's grandmamma.' leonore ran off to get ready. she was not long about it, but all the same her new little friend must have been even quicker, for leonore met her a very few steps only from aunt anna's gate. hildegarde's face lighted up with a smile when she caught sight of the other little girl. 'so you have come to meet me,' she said; 'that is very nice of you. i hope i have not come too soon. shall i go in now to see aunt anna?' leonore looked a little disappointed, which hildegarde seemed at once to understand. 'i don't mean to _stay_ with aunt anna,' she added quickly; 'what i want is for you and me to go out somewhere together. it is a lovely day, and i have leave to stay out till dusk. my grandmamma is going to pay some visits, so she hopes to see you some other day--perhaps to-morrow. i think we shall get to know each other far the best by being alone by ourselves--don't you think so?' 'yes, certainly,' said leonore, her face clearing. 'i am so glad you understand. i have such a lot of things to talk to you about.' hildegarde nodded her head. it was a little habit of hers to do so without speaking sometimes. 'then we must not lose any of our time,' she said, after a moment's pause. 'but first i will run in to give aunt anna a kiss, and then we can go off somewhere together.' aunt anna's face was full of pleasure at the sight of her little friend--the two were evidently old acquaintances. 'how well you are looking, my child,' she said, 'and how much you have grown! let me see, which is the taller, you or our little leonore,' and she drew the two children together. 'there is not a quarter of an inch between you,' she exclaimed. 'if you were ponies you would be a perfect match--one dark and one fair,' she added musingly. 'yes, my dears, you are evidently intended to be friends.' 'and that is just what we mean to be,' said hildegarde. 'may we go now, aunt anna? you will not be anxious even if leonore does not come home till dark?' 'oh no,' said the old lady tranquilly, 'i know you are as safe as you can be--you are going to the woods, i suppose?' 'i think so,' hildegarde replied. as soon as they found themselves out of doors again, she took leonore's hand. 'let us run quickly through the village,' she said, 'and then when we get inside the castle grounds we can go slowly and talk as we go. or perhaps we can sit down--it is so mild, and there are lots of cosy places among the trees.' leonore was quite pleased to do as hildegarde proposed; indeed she had a curious feeling that whatever her new little friend wished she would like. she did not speak much, for it seemed to her as if she were meant in the first place to listen. the woods were very lovely that afternoon. hildegarde led the way round the castle without approaching it quite closely, till they stood in a little clearing, from which they looked upwards into the rows of pine-trees, through which here and there the afternoon sunshine made streaks of light and brightness. 'isn't it pretty here?' said hildegarde. 'hush--there's a squirrel--there are lots about here; they are so tame they like to be near the house, i think. shall we sit down? it is quite dry.' leonore was not troubled with any fears of catching cold--and indeed the day was as mild as summer. 'yes,' she said, 'it is a very pretty place. i have never seen such big woods before.' 'they go on for miles and miles--up ever so far,' said hildegarde, 'though here and there the ground is quite flat for a bit. and over there,' she pointed to the left, 'they are not pine woods, but all sorts of other trees. i don't know which i like best.' 'pine woods _i_ should say,' leonore replied. 'perhaps because i have never seen such beautiful high fir-trees before. and the way the sun peeps through them is so pretty.' as she spoke, half unconsciously her hand strayed to her jacket pocket. there lay safely the little packet containing the three nuts. 'hildegarde,' she said, 'i heard the story about you when you were a baby, and what they found in your hand. and--it is very odd--do you know--no, of course you couldn't--but just fancy, _i_ have three nuts too!' hildegarde nodded her head. 'i _did_ know,' she said, smiling. 'and--look here.' from the front of her frock she drew out a little green silk bag drawn in at the top with tiny white ribbon. she opened it carefully, and took out something which she held towards leonore--on her pretty pink palm lay three nuts, common little brown nuts, just like leonore's. and leonore unwrapped her own packet and in the same way held out its contents. 'yes,' said hildegarde, 'it is all right. i knew you had them.' leonore stared at her in astonishment. 'how could you know?' she exclaimed. 'i suppose people would say i dreamt it,' hildegarde replied, 'but i don't call it dreaming. i have always known things like that since i was a baby. and i knew that some day i should have a friend like you, and that together we should have lovely adventures, and now it is going to come true.' leonore grew rosy red with excitement. 'do you mean,' she began, 'hildegarde, _can_ you mean that perhaps we are going to find the way to fairyland? _i_ have been thinking about it ever since i can remember anything.' hildegarde nodded. 'yes,' she said, 'i am sure you have. but i don't quite know about fairyland itself. i am not sure if any one ever gets _quite_ there--into the very insidest part, you know. i almost think we should have to be turned into fairies for that, and then we never could be little girls again, you see. but i am sure we are going to see some wonderful things--there are the outside parts of fairyland, you know.' 'fraulein says all this country is on the borders of fairyland,' said leonore. 'well, so it is, i daresay, for fairies _do_ come about here sometimes. you've heard the story of the one that came to my christening feast?' 'yes,' said leonore, 'and i am beginning to think that i have seen her too,' and she went on to tell hildegarde about the little old dame in the market-place at alt who had given her the nuts, and about the mischievous laugh she had heard in the wood on the way to dorf, and all her own thoughts and fancies, including her dream of hildegarde herself. hildegarde listened attentively. 'i feel sure you are right,' she said, 'and that the dame _was_ my own fairy, as i call her. and i believe the laugh you heard in the wood was when you were hoping you hadn't lost the last three nuts. i don't believe you could have lost them; if you had thrown them away they would have come back to you. just think how my three have always been kept safe, even though i was only a tiny baby when they were put into my hand.' both little girls sat silent for a moment or two, gazing at the six brown nuts. 'and what do you think we are meant to do now?' asked leonore at last. 'to do,' repeated hildegarde in some surprise; 'why, of course it's quite plain--to crack the nuts! not all of them at once--one, or perhaps two--one of yours and one of mine, i daresay.' 'oh,' exclaimed leonore, 'do you really think we should? _how_ i wonder what we shall find! just supposing there is nothing but a kernel inside.' 'there's no good in supposing it,' said hildegarde; 'we shall soon see. as i have had the nuts the longest perhaps it's meant for me to crack one first--so----' she put the nut between her teeth. of course if it _had_ been a common nut this would not have been a sensible thing to do, as she would probably have broken her teeth and not cracked the nut, but hildegarde knew what she was about. the nut gave way with a touch, and in another moment the little girl had broken off enough of the shell to see what was inside, leonore bending over her in breathless eagerness. chapter v 'what's o'clock?' 'you had best come with me,' says he. .... and so they did.--_the brown bear._ the first exclamation came from leonore. it was one of disappointment. 'oh, hildegarde,' she cried, 'it _is_ only a common kernel,' for nothing was to be seen but what looked just like the browny-gray skin of the inside of a nut. 'no,' hildegarde replied, 'it isn't that at all'; and with her clever little fingers she carefully drew out what was in reality a small sheet of thin brown paper or tissue of some curious kind, rolled into a ball, and which, when she had carefully unfolded it, was shown to have a few lines of words stamped or impressed upon it in gilt letters. these were the lines. i have translated them to give the exact meaning, though as rhymes they were prettier in the original language:- right behind the castle is hid a tiny door; this let thy comrade open- nuts you still have four. hildegarde smoothed it out and held it for leonore to see. 'what can it mean?' leonore asked breathlessly. 'first,' said hildegarde, 'it means that you are to crack one of your nuts too. don't you see--it says "_thy_ comrade," and then "nuts _you_ still have four." that shows that the "you" means us both together--four nuts between us. so please crack your one.' leonore did so between her teeth, as her friend had done, and quite as easily. this time there was no exclamation of disappointment, for the first glimpse of the contents showed something glittering, and with trembling eagerness the little girl, breaking away still more of the shell, drew out a little ball of very fine but firm gilt thread. this, by hildegarde's advice, she gently untwined, till she came to something hard in the middle. it was a small, very small, gold key, hanging on the long gilt thread, which proved to be in a ring, with no knot or join to be seen. leonore, without speaking, glanced up at hildegarde, who was earnestly examining their new discovery. '"right behind the castle,"' hildegarde murmured to herself. 'let me see--yes, i think i know what it means. see, leonore, "right behind" must be from the centre of the wall of the castle yard down below us, i should say. it is easy to find, as there is a door just in the middle. look, you can see it from here. well, now, if one of us stands as near the middle as we can guess, holding the thread, and the other goes straight on, holding the thread too, as far as it will reach, and running the key on as she goes, then she would get to the place that i fancy is meant. the thread must be meant to be double, or it would not be in a ring.' leonore looked at hildegarde admiringly. 'yes,' she said, 'i'm sure that's the best thing to do; anyway, we can try. but, hildegarde, the key is _so_ small.' hildegarde examined it closely; suddenly leonore heard a tiny click. 'it is not so very small now,' said hildegarde; 'see, it pulls out,' and so it did. it was now a long-stemmed, very delicately-made key, small still in the actual words, but quite easy to hold firmly. hildegarde moved a few paces to one side. 'i think we are about even with the centre of the castle here,' she said, stopping short. 'now, it is for you to look for the door, while i stand here holding the thread, for my rhyme says, "thy comrade," i shall stand quite still, and you walk on as straight as you can go.' 'i am so afraid of the thread breaking,' said leonore, taking it and the key from hildegarde. 'i don't think there is any fear of that, if you handle it gently,' said hildegarde. 'remember, it must be some kind of a fairy thread.' leonore set off, her heart beating with excitement. as she went on she felt the thread sliding gently through her fingers, so she allowed her hold of it to slacken, while she grasped the tiny key more firmly. it seemed to her that she had walked a good way, and she was marvelling at the length of the thread, when she felt it tighten, and, slender as a hair though it was, pull her up with a little jerk. she stopped at once--yes, it was at its full stretch now, and she looked around her eagerly. the trees were growing thicker and closer here; in front the wood seemed almost dark, though here and there a streak of sunshine broke the gloom. but of a _door_ of any kind she could see no trace! she gazed downwards, for she had a vague idea that it might be a trap-door in the ground--a great stone with a ring in it, such as one reads of in old stories of enchantment and magic; but no, there was nothing of the kind to be seen, and she was on the point of calling back to hildegarde that she could find no trace of a door, when, lifting her eyes suddenly, she caught sight of a gleam--a tiny spot of light--on the trunk of a tree in front of her. it was an old tree; the trunk was much thicker than those around it, the bark was rugged. leonore hastened close up to it, the thread seeming to become elastic to allow of her doing so. to her delight, as she peered in at the spot, she descried the outline of a very small keyhole in bright gold. she almost screamed with pleasure, and had to conquer her first impulse, which was to try to unlock it at once, for this would have been contrary to what she and hildegarde had planned. so she did as she had promised, giving a soft jerk to the thread, the signal agreed upon. and in a minute hildegarde was beside her, her blue eyes sparkling, her fair hair flying behind her. 'you have found it?' she cried; and leonore, too excited to speak, pointed to the golden rim. 'the key,' exclaimed hildegarde, and with careful though trembling fingers leonore fitted it into the lock. it turned without the slightest difficulty, and there before them stood open a narrow entrance into what looked like a dark hole, about as high as the children themselves. leonore was darting forwards when her friend stopped her. 'take out the key,' she said, 'it must not be left in the lock'; but when leonore turned to obey her, lo and behold, the key was no longer there, and the thread had slipped from the hold of both! only a very tiny shiny ball, like a gold bead, was lying among the fir-needles at their feet, and as hildegarde stooped to pick it up, it seemed to sink into the ground, and disappeared! she stood up again, laughing. 'all right,' she said, 'it has done its work.' then hand-in-hand they crept through the doorway sideways, for it was only wide enough to admit one at a time. but no sooner were they well within, the door closing of itself behind them, than they were able to stand abreast, for they found themselves in a wide passage. but before looking about them, hildegarde stopped short for a moment. 'what has become of the little brown paper?' she said. 'perhaps there was something else on it.' leonore shook her head. 'i don't think so,' she said. 'i looked at it well. is it not in your pocket?' no, it was not there. it had evidently disappeared, like the contents of leonore's own nut. 'then we are meant to find our own way now,' said hildegarde cheerfully. 'at present there is not much difficulty, for there is plainly only one way to go,' and that was straight before them. the passage was dimly lighted, though how or from where they could not tell, but by degrees, as their eyes grew accustomed to the dusk, they saw that the way sloped downwards, and was a sort of path between rows of curiously twisted pillars or columns at each side. leonore squeezed hildegarde's arm. 'what are these things?' she said. 'i don't like them--they look like snakes.' her little friend laughed. 'you silly girl,' she replied. 'don't you see--they are the roots of the trees. we have got right down underneath.' leonore stared in wonder. 'i thought their roots were in the _earth_,' she said. 'perhaps the earth doesn't go down so far as we thought,' said hildegarde, 'or perhaps it has been cleared away here to make a path. yes, i should think that's how it is. but you see, leonore, if we're getting into fairyland we must expect to see a good many queer things, not like what we are accustomed to.' 'of course,' leonore agreed, her eyes sparkling at the idea. 'i don't think i should really feel _surprised_ at anything. but do let us hurry on, hildegarde.' they took hands again and ran on. it was quite easy to do so, as there was light enough to see where they were going, and the way still sloped gently downwards. suddenly hildegarde stopped. 'hark!' she exclaimed; 'do you hear that sound, leonore? what can it be?' for a very soft monotonous sort of whirr was plainly to be distinguished. 'can it be water?' leonore was beginning, when hildegarde interrupted her. 'it is a spinning-wheel,' she whispered eagerly. 'now, leonore, our adventures are really beginning.' almost as she spoke, they became aware that just in front of them the passage made a turn; and another minute brought them within sight of a kind of niche at one side, within which sat a not altogether unfamiliar figure. it was that of the old dame of the market-place at alt. she was spinning busily. the children stopped. they felt her bright eyes fixed upon them, but neither liked to speak. they waited in respectful silence. 'welcome,' she said at last, while a smile broke over her face. 'i have been expecting you.' they drew a little nearer. 'then you _are_ a fairy,' leonore burst out, 'and it was you i heard laugh on our way here--wasn't it?' 'never mind about that,' said the dame. 'tell me what you want.' 'oh,' said hildegarde softly, 'you know that better than we do. you know all about us. we want to get to fairyland, and you can show us the way, can you not?' to their disappointment and surprise, the dame shook her head. but her words softened the disappointment a little. 'no--not quite that,' she replied. 'into actual fairyland itself i cannot take or lead you. no one but yourselves can do that--and,' with a little sigh, 'there are but few who ever really penetrate there. it cannot be otherwise. but i can help you and show you a good deal, so do not look sad about it. there are many, many wonderful things to see between this and actual fairyland.' at this the little girls brightened up. 'please tell us,' said leonore timidly, 'do you always sit here, except when you come up to where we live? and are you always spinning?' the dame shook her head and smiled again. 'no,' she replied. 'this is only one of my posts. i am here to-day because i expected you. and i spin when i have no other special work to do. we do not love idleness.' hildegarde had moved quite close up to her. 'what are you spinning now?' she said softly. oh, i see--it is cobwebs, is it not?' 'you have good eyes, my child,' said the dame; and so indeed she had, for, but for a certain glistening as the light caught the almost invisible ball of threads, nothing could have been perceived. 'yes, our fairy looms use a good deal of cobweb yarn--there is nothing like it for our gossamer tissue, nothing that takes such shades of colour.' leonore listened with wide-open eyes. 'oh,' she said beneath her breath, 'i wish i could see it--i----' 'so you shall,' said the dame; 'that is a wish it is easy to grant'; and as she spoke she rose from her seat, giving a touch to the spinning-wheel which made it revolve with double speed, and changed the soft whirr into a louder sound, almost like a note of music. the children stared at the wheel, and in that moment of their attention being distracted the old dame had vanished, and in her stead stood a lovely figure, smiling down upon them. 'oh,' exclaimed hildegarde, 'you are my own fairy lady. i remember you now--it was you that gave me the nuts when i was a baby.' 'and i have dreamt of you,' added leonore eagerly. 'and this is the gossamer--may i touch it?' she went on, softly stroking the gleaming garment which floated round the fairy. 'i can _scarcely_ feel it.' 'it says much for you if you feel it at all,' said the lady. 'but now, my children, if you want to see some of the things open to you to visit, you must be on your way. go straight on till you come to a barred gate--that is one of the doors into gnomeland. knock and say that the fairy of the spinning-wheel sent you, and asks for you courtesy and kindness. leonore looked a very little frightened. 'is there any fear?' she began. 'could the gnomes be vexed at our coming?' hildegarde turned to her with a little impatience. 'of course not,' she said, 'if our fairy lady sends us.' [illustration: "i must give you one or two warnings."] 'but still,' said the lady, though she smiled, 'i must give you one or two warnings. gnomes are gnomes, remember--not angels, not even fairies. they are queer-tempered folk. in speaking to them you must be very respectful and never interrupt them. and you must never seem to pity them in the very least; they think their underground country is far more wonderful and delightful than any other, and you must not disagree with this opinion.' 'no,' said hildegarde, 'we shall be very careful. come along, leonore.' 'shall we find you here when we come back, please, dear fairy lady?' asked leonore. 'you will not return this way,' their friend answered. 'but you will see me again before long--never fear.' she pointed towards the passage, and as she did so it seemed to the children that the light increased, as if her white hand had touched some unseen spring in the air. nor did it grow dimmer again--though not very bright, it was now twice as bright as when they first entered, only the colour had grown reddish; and as they walked on, they noticed this more and more. 'it looks like the light of a fire, of a great fire,' said leonore. 'or of a great many fires,' said hildegarde. 'i daresay it is that, for i have heard stories of the gnomes working at metals, and to do that they must have big fires like blacksmiths, you know.' 'i hope it won't be very hot in their country,' said leonore, who was more timid than hildegarde. 'it will be all right whatever it is,' replied her friend, 'otherwise you may be sure our fairy would not have let us come. gnomeland is the nearest to our world of all the fairy countries--or the border countries, as they are, i suppose--so it is right to begin with it. but you needn't be frightened, leonore. i hope we shall have lots of adventures, now we have really got started.' 'you are so brave,' said leonore admiringly, 'and you seem to know so much about fairy things. what are all the other countries, do you think?' hildegarde smiled. 'oh, more, far more, than we have any idea of,' she said. 'just think how many kinds of fairies we have _names_ for even. gnomes, and pixies, and brownies, and wood-sprites, and water-sprites, and mermaids, and----' 'i think i should like most of all to go to the sea-fairies,' said leonore. 'i do so love stories of mermaids, though they are nearly always rather sad. but oh, hildegarde, that must be the gate into gnomeland--i am so glad it does not feel any hotter; it is quite nice and cool, isn't it?' just before them stood a wrought-iron gate or door; it had bars across and was beautifully worked in all sorts of curious patterns and designs. on the top of each gate-post sat a bird--one was like an owl, and at first the little girls thought it must be really alive, for its eyes seemed to blink and its feathers to move softly. and opposite it was an eagle, whose keen eyes gleamed redly, while its wings sparkled like burnished gold. but neither was a living bird, and soon the children discovered that it was only the reflection of the light on the polished metal that gave the look of life to the eyes and plumage. the birds were placed sideways as if to see both inside the gate and outwards along the passage, and from the claw of the eagle hung a chain, ending in a fawn's foot also in bronze, or some such metal. 'that must be the gnomes' front-door bell,' said hildegarde. 'shall i ring it, or will you?' leonore was creeping behind hildegarde a little. 'oh you, please,' she replied, and hildegarde took the fawn's foot in her hand and pulled it--gently and carefully, for she remembered the fairy's warning--and a good thing it was that she did so, for softly though she had touched it, the result was rather startling. it rang out at once with a deep clang, which, strange to say, went sounding on and on, very loudly at first, then by degrees more faintly, till it was lost in the distance--it was as if hundreds of bells or echoes of bells had been pulled instead of one. even hildegarde looked a little alarmed. 'i hope they won't think us rude,' she said, 'i really scarcely----' but before she had time to say more, a face appeared behind the bars of the gate. it was a gnome--a regular, proper sort of gnome--about half the height of the children, with a pointed cap and a mantle tossed over one shoulder, a queer wrinkled-up face, a big nose, and black bead-like eyes. he did not look particularly good-natured; he was evidently not one of the laughing order of gnomes, not at any rate at the present moment. but neither did he seem exactly surly; his expression was rather as if he were waiting to see what kind of beings were these audacious visitors! but his first words were a great surprise, for instead of asking what they wanted, or any natural question of that kind, he tilted back his head, so that if his peaked cap had not been firmly fitted it would certainly have fallen off, and peering up into hildegarde's face--leonore by this time had crept well behind her companion--said sharply-'what's o'clock?' chapter vi gnomeland he appeared, sniffed, and sneered, in a fairy pet.--_child nature._ for a moment or two hildegarde stared down at the little man without speaking. then her face lighted up again, and she replied-'i am very sorry, sir, that i can't tell you, for i have no watch and i don't know.' something like a smile broke over the gnome's countenance. 'all right,' he said, 'you don't know, and you don't pretend you do. and _i_ don't want to know. here in our country,' and he waved his hand in a lordly fashion, 'we have nothing to do with clocks and watches, and time and hours, and all such fiddle-faddle. we leave that to the poor folk who can't settle things for themselves, but have to be ruled by the sun and the moon, and the stars too, for all i know. some people up there, where you come from, fancy we make the cuckoo-clocks down here, but that's all nonsense--we wouldn't waste our time over such rubbish.' 'i thought you said----' began leonore impulsively. she was getting over her alarm a little by now--'i thought you said you didn't trouble about time,' she was _going_ to have added, but a touch from hildegarde came, luckily, quickly enough to stop her, and to remind her of the fairy's warning. the gnome did not seem to have heard her; he was unfastening the gates. when he had got them ajar, he stood right in the middle, his head cocked on one side and his feet well apart, and surveyed the children coolly. 'and who sent you?' he said at last. 'the fairy of the spinning-wheel,' hildegarde replied. 'humph--i thought as much,' he remarked. 'and what for, if you please?' 'to pay you and your wonderful country a visit, if you will kindly allow us to do so,' hildegarde answered. 'that means that i am to----' he cleared his throat and hesitated for a moment, then went on again, 'to tire myself out doing showman; i suppose?' he said rather grumpily. 'i hope not to tire yourself out, sir,' hildegarde returned in her politest tone. 'we shall give you as little trouble as possible, but we are of course very anxious to see all you will kindly show us.' 'all right,' the gnome replied. 'enter, children of the upper world, and be welcome,' and he flung open the gates with a flourish, while hildegarde and leonore passed through. it had seemed to them as they stood waiting that within the entrance was much the same as outside, but no sooner had they stepped across the boundary, the doors clanging behind them as they did so, than they found everything quite different. they were no longer in a rather narrow passage, but on a broad road, bordered on each side by magnificent rocks which stretched up so high that they could not see their summit or the roof. the ground was covered with very fine gravel or white silvery sand, firm and pleasant to walk upon, and which glistened like pale pink tinsel in the light. for everywhere was flooded with the soft red or rosy brilliance they had noticed before they entered, though whence it came they could not see. 'why is the light so red?' asked leonore, gaining some courage again, though since her last attempt she had not dared to speak. 'we noticed it outside, and we thought perhaps it came from big fires--furnaces you know, or forges--like what blacksmiths have.' the gnome was walking a little in front--at this he turned round. 'and why should we have "big fires," or furnaces, or whatever you call the clumsy things?' he said, fixing his small bright eyes, which gleamed redly themselves, on leonore. 'oh,' said leonore, dreadfully afraid that he thought her rude, 'because--because--everybody says you make things like--like blacksmiths do--with iron and metal stuffs like that.' 'indeed,' said the gnome, 'and what then? do you think we denizens of the under-world are as stupid as your clumsy workmen up above? wait a bit; you shall soon see for yourselves.' 'you mustn't think leonore meant to be rude,' said hildegarde. 'you see we are only children, and we don't understand about wonderfully clever things.' 'humph,' said the gnome, but he seemed pleased. they had walked some little way by now, and once or twice their guide had stopped at what looked like a narrow passage between the rocks, as if uncertain if he should turn down it or not. just then they came to another of these passages, and he looked back at the children. 'follow me,' he said, 'and you shall see how we work. i am going to show you the manufacturing of the lucky pennies and horse-shoes.' 'what are lucky pennies?' whispered leonore to hildegarde. 'i think i have heard of them, but i'm not sure.' 'never mind,' hildegarde replied in the same tone. 'the gnomes won't be vexed with us for not knowing things if we are polite and admire their cleverness, and i am sure they _are_ very clever.' then they followed their guide in silence, which soon, however, came to be broken by the sound of tapping, light sharp tapping, and in another moment or two, there was added to this a whizzing sound, and now and then short clear whistles. but the little girls asked no questions and made no remarks, till suddenly, the passage along which they were walking coming to an end, they found themselves in a very large rock-chamber--the sides of which towered up so high that their tops could not be seen, though everywhere the same clear rose-coloured light penetrated. the air was fresh and pleasant, though not cold. the gnomes evidently possessed the secret of warming their habitation as well as lighting it! and now were explained the several sounds the children had heard as they approached the 'manufactory' as their guide had called it. [illustration: manufacturing lucky pennies.] for the great room--one would have called it a cave perhaps, except that no cave ever was so lofty--was filled with a crowd of busy workers. gnomes of course, some smaller, some a little bigger than the one who was guiding the children, but all as like each other as a lot of chinese seem to us--and all apparently of the same age. a few were standing, but most were sitting, and in front of each was a small rock-table, on which lay tools of glistening silver. there were tiny hammers which explained the tapping, and little wheels revolving so rapidly that when in motion they could not be seen. and every now and then a gnome lifted a kind of tube or pipe to his mouth, through which he blew with a whistling sound, on to the piece of metal he was working at. none of them spoke; they all seemed absorbed in what they were doing. the guide-gnome signed to the children to come close up to one little earth-man and watch what he was doing. he was beating a round piece of copper with his fairy-like hammer, and blowing upon it between times through his whistling tube. 'there now,' said the first gnome, speaking at last. 'is not that better than your scorching furnaces? that tube is a heat-tube--every time he blows through it, it melts, or at least softens the metal, without any fuss or trouble.' 'really!' exclaimed hildegarde, 'what a good plan! i wish we had heat-tubes to warm our fingers with in winter.' 'better not wish for anything of the kind,' replied their guide. 'you up-above people are a long way from such things yet. you'd only burn your fingers off.' 'thank you,' said hildegarde respectfully. 'i daresay we should. but will you kindly explain about lucky pennies. is that one he is making?' 'yes,' replied the gnome. 'you good, near-sighted people,' and he jerked his thumb upwards, 'don't see the difference. you don't know when you get hold of a lucky penny or not--but a great many are sent up to your world, all the same, and that is why some folk seem to succeed with you and some not. _partly_ the reason, that is to say, for the holders of lucky pennies must be honest, otherwise our coins do them more harm than good.' 'how wonderful!' said leonore. 'but if you make such a great many, where do you send the others to? _all_ our pennies are not lucky pennies.' the gnome screwed up his eyes and looked at her. 'that's all i am at liberty to tell you,' he said. 'there are other worlds besides yours that _we_ know about though you don't,' and leonore saw that she was not to question him further. 'perhaps,' she thought to herself, 'there are people in the moon after all, and some of the lucky pennies go there.' the gnome seemed pleased by her respectful manner. he said something in a low voice to the little man they had been watching, who thereupon handed him two bright copper pieces. 'here,' he said, 'here is a souvenir for each of you--a real lucky penny. never part with them except in direst need, which with them in your possession is not likely ever to befall you.' the children were very pleased, and thanked him most politely. 'and now,' he said, 'as we pass on, you may glance at the other side of the manufactory, where we are employed on horse-shoes,' and he crossed between the rows of little men, each at his table, to where several were seated together at a larger one. hildegarde gave an exclamation of disappointment. 'what are they doing?' she cried. 'mending _old_ horse-shoes? what ugly things!' 'you foolish child,' said the gnome. 'how little you appreciate our skill! of course the work they are doing is much more difficult than making pretty things. they are copying old horse-shoes after the clumsy earth fashion. who would use a _new_ one for luck, i should like to know, and how little do you people up there think when you pick up an old cast-off horse-shoe, as you think, what it really is, and where it has come from.' hildegarde felt rather snubbed. it was the first time she had forgotten the fairy's warning. 'how _very_ clever!' she said. 'yes, indeed,' leonore agreed. 'i shall always pick up horse-shoes when i see them now. and if you please, mr. gnome----' but her sentence was never finished, for just as she had got so far, their guide suddenly clapped his hands. there came a rush of cold air in the children's faces, so sharply, that without knowing it, they both shut their eyes. and when they opened them again, the big chamber and the busy workers had disappeared--they found themselves--still in the under-world, but in quite a different part of it. here the light was no longer red, but a pale pretty green--a green which did not make things or people look pale and sickly, but only cast a soft radiance, such as one sees in the woods in the early spring. and to add to this impression there was a faint sound of running or trickling water near at hand. hildegarde and leonore rubbed their eyes and looked at each other; they almost felt as if they were dreaming. 'where have we got to?' said leonore; but as she looked about her a little she saw that they were still surrounded by the high rocks which seemed to be the walls and boundaries of the under-world. 'and how did we get here?' added hildegarde laughing. 'it felt as if we were _blown_ here.' 'and so you were,' said a voice beside them, and turning, they caught sight of their old friend the gnome again. 'there was no object in tiring you with walking all through our domains--what brought you was one of our little inventions--the simplest in the world--for those who understand such things,' he added with condescension. 'and if you please where are we, and what are you going to show us now?' they inquired. 'you are at the entrance to our gardens, where i am going to show you our flower designs. you have doubtless never been told how many of your upper-world plants and flowers owe their existence to _us_.' 'really!' exclaimed hildegarde; and then, as a sudden thought struck her, 'oh, i _wonder_,' she cried, 'if those very, very queer flowers that we see in hot-houses and sometimes in gardens too--what do they call them--or--or--? i wonder if _they_ are invented by your gardeners.' the gnome smiled condescendingly. 'you mean orchids,' he said. 'ah well, you will soon see for yourselves. and now,' he went on, 'i must bid you farewell, for the present at any rate, though who knows but that some day you may again visit the under-world. you will meet with no difficulties now. on leaving the gardens you may, if you like, pass through toy-land, and there you will see some of _our_ children. that, i think, must be the limit of your sight-seeing--any more would be too much for you to take in. i have the honour to bid you adieu.' he took off his cap with a flourish, bowing like a master of ceremonies. 'goodbye, sir, and thank you very much,' said the little girls, but as they said the words, lo and behold the gnome had disappeared! 'that must be another of their inventions,' said hildegarde, at which they both laughed. all the same, in their hearts they were not quite sure if they were glad or sorry to be left to themselves, though neither liked to say so to the other. they gazed about them. behind were the rock passages they had grown accustomed to, but looking longer and dimmer, perhaps in contrast with the pale green light which had something more natural and more like the upper world about it. and just in front of them was a curious sort of palisade--or paling--with openings at regular intervals, though too narrow to see anything through, unless one placed one's eyes quite close. and this it was not worth while to do, for another glance showed them a door in the paling, and a bell, of the same pattern as the one at the first entrance, only in silver instead of in bronze or copper. hildegarde rung it. the door opened almost at once, but no one was to be seen. so they walked in. the change of scene was complete. it was a garden, but a very queer one. instead of lawns of grass, there were wide spaces covered with fine glittering sand of different shades of green; the paths between were brown, and stooping closer to examine them the children found that they consisted of very small round pebbles, something like toffee drops, so smooth and yet elastic that they did not hurt the feet at all. but the flower-beds were the oddest of all. they were filled with plants and flowers of the strangest shapes and colours you can--or rather 'can_not_'--imagine. and when leonore put out her hand to touch one, she started in surprise; they were made of fine metal. so far, they had seen no one, but just as they were beginning to wonder which way they should go, and if they were to meet no more of the inhabitants of gnomeland, they saw toddling towards them the very queerest little figure they had ever seen out of a picture-book! it was that of a very _very_ old gnome--'the great-grandfather of all the gnomes surely,' whispered hildegarde to leonore. and it was with difficulty they restrained their laughter. nor was it easier to do so when the little man came closer to them. he was so _very_ comical-looking. but mindful of the fairy's advice, both children kept perfectly grave and greeted the newcomer with a low courtesy. 'well,' was all he said, and then stood wrinkling up his face, though you would have thought he could not screw it any higher than it was, and blinking up at them with his funny little eyes. somehow they did not feel much in awe of him after all. 'well?' he said again, this time in a more questioning tone of voice. 'if you please,' hildegarde replied. 'may we walk through your--garden?' she could not help hesitating a little at the last word, for somehow the more she looked at the queer place they were in, the less like a garden it seemed. 'we won't pick any of the flowers.' 'you couldn't if you tried,' said the old gnome. 'why not?' asked hildegarde. 'i don't see any gardeners about.' 'they are all at their supper,' he replied. 'supper,' replied hildegarde. 'how early they must have it.' 'we don't know anything about late and early,' he said. 'but young things like them need plenty of food. why, i don't believe the eldest of them is more than three hundred years old, counting the way you do up in your country.' it was all the children could do not to call out in astonishment; they did not do so, however, fearing it might sound rude. 'do you count gardening easy work, then, if you put such young gnomes to do it?' leonore inquired. the gnome nodded--a sort of nod that took in things in general---'this kind of gardening--yes,' he replied. 'it's only dusting the plants, and straightening the stems if they are bent, and raking the beds and paths. designing's a different thing--_that_ takes experience. but you can stroll through if you like, and see for yourselves,' and with another nod, he toddled off again. 'how old must _he_ be,' exclaimed leonore in an awe-struck tone, 'if he counts hundreds of years nothing! i wonder what he meant by saying we could not pick flowers if we tried.' hildegarde walked on to where a border of strange blossoms, brilliant in colour and most grotesque in shape, stood in perfect motionlessness. she touched two or three of them gently before she spoke. then---'leonore,' cried she, 'they're _not_ flowers. they're made of metal.' leonore sprang forward. 'oh that's what he meant by saying they needed "dusting" and "straightening,"' she exclaimed. 'oh, hildegarde, how queer everything is down here--don't you think we had better go home?' 'not till we have seen a little more,' said hildegarde. 'there's nothing to be afraid of. my fairy wouldn't have let us come if there could be anything to hurt us.' 'no--not exactly that,' said leonore, 'but it's all so _queer_.' 'come along quickly then,' hildegarde replied. 'i don't care for this garden, if there's nothing really alive and growing in it. but i daresay we will soon get to somewhere else.' and so, before very long, they did. they passed quantities of flower-beds and rows, so dazzling in colour and extraordinary in shape that they felt as if they were looking through some fantastic kaleidoscope. suddenly a rushing noise made them glance round in the direction whence it came. it was soon explained--a crowd of gnomes were racing towards them; on they came, running, jumping, chattering, and shouting at the top of their voices. 'it's the gardeners,' said leonore. 'oh, hildegarde, i am rather frightened--they might play tricks on us. do let us get out of their way,' and hildegarde, to confess the truth, was not unwilling to do so. 'let us run down here,' she said, turning as she spoke, for they were just then passing a side row of high plants which could hide them from view of the approaching crowd. no sooner said than done. they set off running at full speed, scarcely glancing where they were going, the noise behind them lessening as they ran, till it ceased altogether; and breathless, but glad to have escaped the bevy of gnomes, they at last stood still. 'now,' said hildegarde, 'let's look about and see where we've got to.' chapter vii a collation under difficulties d'une faã§on fort civile. _le rat de ville et le rat des champs._ they were at the opposite side of the garden from that by which they had entered it, and just before them was a large white tent. a faint sound reached them--a rustle and murmur, as of people moving about busily, but not of voices. the tent appeared closed, but as they went nearer they saw that there were doors or flaps in the stuff it was made of, which could be opened either from within or without. hildegarde turned to leonore. 'we may as well go in,' she said. 'we weren't told not to, and we want to see all we can.' leonore was looking a little frightened again. 'we can't knock,' she said; 'there's nothing to knock on. and we can't ring; there's no bell.' 'so the only thing is to walk in,' said hildegarde. she drew aside the first flap they came to, and both entered. it was a busy scene. there was a table right round the tent, and at it gnomes were working actively. a moment's glance sufficed to show that they were packing, for queer-shaped boxes and baskets stood about, and quantities of moss. for a minute or so no one seemed to notice the visitors. these gnomes were evidently not of the young and giddy class; they did not seem to be speaking to each other at all. the children drew still closer to the table. the gnome nearest to them was laying a bright scarlet flower, in shape like a large pitcher with half a dozen small jugs hanging round it, in a basket well filled with moss. he glanced at the newcomers. 'if you please,' said hildegarde, 'are you packing flowers?' 'you can see that for yourself,' was the reply. 'yes,' she agreed, 'but we would like to know why you are doing it--i mean where are all the packages to be sent to, and what for?' 'who sent you down here?' asked the gnome. 'the spinning-wheel fairy,' hildegarde replied. the gnome's manner became more cordial. 'ah well, then,' he said, 'i don't mind explaining things a little. she would not send idle folk to tease us; she is always busy herself. we are packing pattern-flowers. our artists design them, and our most skilful metal-workers make them, and then we send them up to be copied again.' 'up to our world, do you mean?' asked leonore. 'i didn't know we had so many new patterns of flowers.' the gnome shook his head. 'you don't,' he said; 'only a very few find their way to the place you come from. we send them first to the flower-fairies, and they copy them in common stuff--stuff like what all your flowers up there are made of,' with a tone of contempt, 'and then they send them off again--seeds or roots--whichever they think best, and that's how new flowers start.' 'but where do they send them to?' asked hildegarde curiously. 'you say not many come to our world.' 'that's not my business,' he replied. 'your world isn't the only one. you can ask the flower-fairies if ever you pass their way. now i must get on with my work. if you cross the tent you will see the toy-packers at the other side.' the children's eyes sparkled. 'toys,' they repeated. 'do you make toys down here?' the gnome nodded. 'that's our principal dealing with your world,' he said. 'you don't mean to say you thought all the toys your shops are full of are made by clumsy human fingers! you should see our toy factory about christmas-time. santa claus has a time of it, choosing and settling, i can tell you.' hildegarde and leonore were breathless with eagerness. 'oh, how interesting!' they exclaimed. 'mayn't we see the toy factory? do tell us which way to go to get to it.' but to their disappointment the little packer shook his head. 'can't be done,' he said. 'doors are closed to all visitors for six months before christmas. that's the arrangement with santa claus. it would never do for it to leak out about the new inventions before the time. you can see some of the regular toys over there where they're packing, for even on them we're always improving.' the children saw that it was no use persisting, for there was something very decided about the gnomes' manner even when they were the most amiable. and the small man was busily at work again. so they made their way quietly to the other side of the tent. there they saw displayed, waiting to be packed, a good many toys they had often seen before, and some not so familiar. there were queer little doll gnomes, or groups of them for ornaments--not very like those the children had seen alive in one way, for as a rule the living gnomes were grave and pompous, and the figures were represented as laughing and rollicking. 'they must be taken from the young gnomes, the ones who are only two or three hundred years old,' said leonore, smiling. 'but, oh, hildegarde, do look at that doll-house furniture half packed over there. isn't it too lovely? i've often wondered--haven't you?--how people's fingers _could_ make such tiny things, but now i understand. oh, i do wish we could have seen the toy manufactory!' but it was no use wishing. none of the packers took much notice of them, so they thought it as well to pass out of the tent, trusting that somehow or other they would find their way home, for they were sure that the spinning-wheel fairy would not forget them. and in this they were right. a straight path between the rocks was before them as they came out of the tent, so there was no question of which way to go. they ran on fearlessly for some distance, till the passage they were following suddenly emerged into a large square, or 'round' rather, on all sides of which stood tiny little houses, each exactly like its neighbours, with a door in the middle, and a window at both sides. and at every doorway appeared a little gnome woman, with a gnome baby in her arms. you never saw anything so funny. hildegarde and leonore stopped short in astonishment; they could scarcely help bursting out laughing, the whole scene was so comical. 'this must be the gnome village,' said hildegarde in a low voice. 'i wonder how old these "babies" are--fifty or sixty, perhaps!' before leonore had time to reply, one of the little women stepped forward. she curtsied very politely, and when she spoke her voice, though rather squeaky, was meek and gentle. it was evident that the mrs. gnomes were kept in good order by their lords and masters. 'we have received a message to tell us you would be honouring us with a visit,' she said, 'and we have prepared a little collation for you. may i ask you to step inside?' she pointed as she spoke to the door of her own little house, and the children turned to follow her. but, alack and alas, with all the goodwill in the world, they could not have availed themselves of the good lady's invitation! the door of the cottage was not as high as their waists, and even if they had crept in, they could not possibly have stood or even crouched inside. it would have been a tighter fit than in a fair-sized dog's kennel! 'i am very sorry,' began hildegarde, but she was interrupted by a burst of wailing. all the little women had rushed forward, each clutching her baby, and all the babies roared too, rubbing their fists in their eyes, and looking more grotesquely gnome-like--as indeed they had a good right to do--than ever. 'oh dear, oh dear,' sobbed the little women, 'what _shall_ we do? we never thought of our houses being too small for the gracious ladies, and our masters will be so angry if they find the collation has not been partaken of, for they sent strict orders by an electric bird.' 'an electric bird,' repeated the children, very much interested. 'do let us see it,' but the gnome lady nearest them shook her head. 'it's gone back again,' she said, 'and it flies so fast you couldn't see it. it just whistles a message. oh, it's quite a common thing; but, oh dear, dear, what _shall_ we do about the collation?' and at her words all the other little women started wringing their hands again, while the babies screamed. hildegarde looked as if she did not know whether to laugh or to pity them, but leonore felt very sorry for them; then a brilliant thought struck her. 'supposing you carry it out here,' she said, 'to the middle of the square--the collation, i mean. we could sit down on the ground and eat it quite comfortably.' and indeed so far as the _quantity_ was concerned, there was not likely to be any difficulty. 'if they've planned it according to their own size,' leonore whispered to hildegarde, 'we could eat it all up like a dolls' feast in half a minute.' 'yes,' hildegarde replied in the same tone. 'i only hope it is something we _can_ eat. not roasted flies, or anything like that.' the little women had seized leonore's suggestion with delight, and were now busily employed in carrying out the feast. they first placed a table--a huge table they evidently thought it, though it was only about two feet long--in the middle of the square, and then carried out the dishes, of which, the little girls were glad to see, there were not, after all, above half a dozen. then the gnome lady who had first spoken to them seated herself at one end, and hildegarde and leonore took their places on the ground at each side, the crowd of little women, rushing about to wait upon them, tucking their babies under one arm in an original fashion of their own. 'what may i have the pleasure of helping you to first?' said the small hostess. she had now quite recovered her spirits, and spoke in a very elegant manner, moving her hands airily over the dishes, having plumped down _her_ baby on the ground beside her, where it lay quite contentedly sucking its thumbs. 'thank you,' said hildegarde, 'please give us anything you like.' 'it is a little difficult to choose, you see,' said leonore, who felt quite at ease with the gnome ladies, 'as we do not know what the things are--though,' she added quickly, 'they look very nice.' the small woman looked rather disappointed. 'they should not be strange to you,' she said. 'they are all--or nearly all--made of our upper-world supplies, as we thought you would prefer them. the dish before you contains blackberries, with just a touch of pine-cone flavouring; the one opposite is wild honey--we deal regularly with the bees through the flower-fairies, who understand their language. then these are cakes of acorn flour, and the jelly at the other side is a special recipe of our own made from the moss which grows thickly where the streamlets trickle down from the upper world.' 'thank you,' said hildegarde again, 'may i have some blackberries? it is very late for them, isn't it?' their hostess shook her head. 'they are not freshly gathered,' she said, 'but they are just as good--nothing ever gets stale in our rock larders.' 'how very convenient,' said hildegarde, as she tasted the blackberries. they were not bad, though they had a curious aromatic flavour. but after all, it did not much matter, as one good-sized teaspoon would have held all her helping! leonore had chosen a tiny cake and honey, and then their hospitable friend insisted on both children tasting every other dish on the table, which they had to do, though in one or two cases they tried to hide how very little they took. the moss jelly was decidedly peculiar! 'aren't you going to eat anything yourselves?' leonore inquired. the gnome ladies gave a wail of disapproval--such a thing was quite contrary to their ideas of good manners. 'never, never would we be so rude,' they said. and the children, remembering the fairy's warning, said no more on this point, for fear of offending even these meek little women. but they felt very curious to hear more of the ways and customs of their underground friends. 'do you have all you eat sent down from our country, or from fairyland?' asked leonore in a very polite tone. 'oh dear, no,' was the reply. 'just occasionally. we have plenty of supplies of our own.' 'do tell us what,' said hildegarde. their hostess hesitated a little. 'you might not appreciate our national dishes,' she said. 'we are very fond of stewed frogs, and find them most nourishing, and a good fat toad makes an excellent dish.' even politeness could not keep back an exclamation of horror from the visitors, though they tried to smother it. 'ugh!' said hildegarde with a shiver. 'ugh!' said leonore. but hildegarde went on speaking so quickly, that it is to be hoped the gnome ladies did not hear the 'ughs.' 'i think,' she said, getting up from the ground as she spoke, 'i think we must be going--don't you, leonore?' 'yes,' said leonore eagerly, 'i am sure we must.' and when they were alone together, each owned to the other that she felt as if there must be toads and frogs all about! 'we thank you very much for your kindness,' they went on, 'and please tell the--the gentlemen that the collation was excellent. and we should like to know the nearest way home, if you will kindly show it us.' the little lady gnome got up from her seat and curtsied graciously. so did all the others, though the effect in their case was a little spoilt by the tucked-in baby gnome under each arm. apparently the lady who had done the honours of the feast was the only one to whom it was permitted to deposit _her_ baby on the floor! she waved her hand towards the opposite side of the square, or circle of houses. 'you will have no difficulty in finding your way,' she said. 'all arrangements have been made.' she did not press them to stay longer, so they bowed in return, most politely of course, and went off in the direction pointed out. 'perhaps,' said leonore, 'they are afraid of the gnome gentlemen coming home to supper and scolding them for having the collation outside. i should not like to be a gnome lady.' 'nor should i,' hildegarde agreed. 'certainly the collation could not have been _indoors_. but i should have liked to peep into the houses--wouldn't you, leonore? and i _almost_ think i should have liked to pick up one of the gnome babies, though they _are_ rather froggy.' leonore shuddered. 'don't speak of frogs or toads,' she said, and she hastened on more rapidly. 'do let us get away quickly,' she added. 'i have got such a feeling that we shall be treading on some.' hildegarde laughed at her. 'nonsense,' she said, 'they couldn't live on this dry gravel or sand, or whatever it is. i expect the gnomes find them where the little streams trickle down. oh, leonore, i do hope we shall find our way! this path looks just exactly like the one we came in by.' and so it did. but they had not far to go before all misgivings were set at rest by the unexpected appearance of a very fine gray donkey standing on the path before them. he was handsomely caparisoned, and a pannier hung at each side, large enough for a child of our little girls' size to sit in comfortably; and if any doubt remained in their minds as to what they were meant to do, it was soon put to flight, for as they came close up to the donkey, they saw that one pannier was labelled 'hildegarde,' and the other 'leonore.' 'oh, what fun!' they exclaimed. 'what nice arrangements the gnomes make! this time they have not forgotten how big we are. what a beautiful donkey!' a very quiet donkey too, apparently. he stood perfectly still while the little girls mounted into their places, which was all very well, but he showed no signs of moving after they were settled either, though they shook the reins and begged him to gee-up! suddenly hildegarde turned to leonore. 'leonore,' she said, 'i don't believe he's a live donkey! feel him--he's quite cold--he's like the magic horse in the _arabian nights_, who moved by a spring. how can we find out how to make him go?' they had no need to do so after all. almost before hildegarde finished speaking, a short shrill whistle was heard, and off the same instant started the donkey! 'up,' i should say--rather than 'off.' for, greatly to the children's astonishment, they felt themselves rising from the ground. up, up, up they went, the light growing gradually dimmer and dimmer, till but for a round spot which gradually appeared white, high above them, they would have been in total darkness. 'hildegarde,' whispered leonore, 'are you frightened? it's a nice feeling, going up so fast, isn't it, but i wonder where we are going to?' the star of white light overhead grew larger; they became able to distinguish that they were in a kind of shaft; it was not cold or uncomfortable in any way, and the panniers in which they sat were easily cushioned. 'i believe,' began hildegarde, but she did not finish her sentence. there came another whistle, softer and longer than the first, and something--was it a gentle hand, or the touch of a bird's feathered wing?--they could not tell--made both little girls close their eyes for a moment. and when they opened them again--where were they? [illustration: "who sent you to kiss us, you breezes of may?"] chapter viii tree-top land where were you taught your song, little bird? who sent you to kiss us, you breezes of may? there are secrets, yes secrets you never have heard, whispered breezes and bird as they fluttered away. _spring song._ where were they? why, sitting on the short thymy grass just behind the castle, not a stone's throw from the old tree trunk where they had found the little door, which the golden key had opened. they gazed at each other, then rubbed their eyes and gazed again. 'how did we get out of the panniers?' said hildegarde. 'i never felt anything, did you, leonore?' leonore's reply was another question. 'have we been dreaming?' she said. 'no, of course it couldn't be that, people can't dream the same dream together; it is too funny and queer.' 'it's just what it is,' said hildegarde laughing. 'we've been to gnomeland, and now we've come back again. and after all, leonore, we haven't been two hours away. look at the sun, it is not near setting yet, but of course in gnomeland, as they told us, they don't count time as we do.' she got up as she spoke and gave herself a little shake. 'i want to be sure i have not been dreaming,' she went on. 'even though i _know_ i haven't. pinch me, leonore, just a nice little gentle pinch to make me feel real, and i'll pinch you in return.' the pinching made them both laugh, which took away the dreamy feeling better than anything else. 'and now,' said hildegarde, 'i suppose we had best make our way home--to your home i mean, leonore, as fast as we can. grandmamma gave me leave to stay out till sunset, and aunt anna will be expecting us back in time for coffee.' 'yes,' said leonore. 'she hoped you would come back with me after our walk; but, hildegarde, what shall we say if they ask where we have been?' 'say?' repeated hildegarde, 'why, that we have been up in the woods behind the castle. we mayn't tell anything more, and i don't believe we could if we tried. that is always the way with people who have been to fairyland, or at least part of the way there--besides----' but she hesitated. 'besides what?' asked leonore curiously. 'oh,' said hildegarde, 'i was only going to say that i am not sure but what aunt anna understands a great deal more than she says. there is something very fairyish about her sometimes. i don't think she'll question us much.' 'perhaps,' said leonore, in her funny rather prim matter-of-fact little way, 'she has been there herself when she was a little girl.' 'i shouldn't much wonder,' hildegarde replied, and then they turned to descend the hill towards the village street. 'hildegarde,' said leonore as they were walking on, 'how shall we know when we are meant to crack the next two nuts?' 'i can't tell you just now,' her little friend replied, 'for i don't know myself. but i am quite sure we shall know in good time. my fairy won't forget about us, and she will tell us somehow.' fraulein elsa was looking out for them at the gate. she welcomed them with a cheerful smile. 'you are just in good time for coffee,' she said. 'aunt anna sent me out to look for you. have you had a pleasant afternoon?' 'very pleasant indeed,' hildegarde replied. the governess asked no more, nor did aunt anna, who was seated at the table, where there was a tempting display of the cakes which she knew to be hildegarde's favourites. 'i thought you would be punctual,' she said to the children; 'you have been up in the woods behind the castle, i suspect, and i hope you have brought back a good appetite?' 'very good indeed,' they replied together, and at the same moment a funny thought struck them both. the 'collation' had not been of a kind to prevent their feeling hungry now! and aunt anna was quite satisfied with the way the cakes disappeared. 'i think i must be going home,' said hildegarde a little later on. 'grandmamma will like to find me there when she returns from her drive. may leonore come to the foot of the castle hill with me?' 'certainly,' said fraulein, 'and to-morrow i hope you may meet again, indeed every day, unless the weather should be very bad.' 'oh in that case,' said hildegarde eagerly, 'i hope leonore will wrap herself up well and come to spend the day with me. of course i could come here--i am not the least afraid of rain, or wind, or snow, or anything like that--but the castle is so big and such a splendid place for playing in, when there is any one to play with, though it is rather dull all alone. and about to-morrow,' she went on, 'may leonore come up immediately after dinner? grandmamma would like to see her.' to this request too, fraulein willingly consented, and the two children set off. 'you have your nuts quite safe?' said leonore, as they kissed each other in saying goodbye. hildegarde nodded reassuringly. 'you needn't be afraid,' she said, 'after keeping them all these years, since i was a little baby; it isn't likely that i should lose them now, just when they've come to be of use. i should be more afraid of yours, leonore, except that, to tell you the truth, i don't believe either of us could lose them if we tried.' 'mine are quite safe,' said leonore, slipping her hand into her jacket pocket to feel them, 'and i certainly won't risk trying whether they would find their way back or not.' and so saying she ran off. nothing came to interfere with their plans. the weather continued lovely, and the children spent every afternoon together. for the old baroness, hildegarde's grandmother, to whom leonore was introduced the next day, was just as pleased on her side, as were fraulein and aunt anna on theirs, that each, otherwise lonely little girl, should have a companion. and for two or three weeks nothing special happened. they searched in vain among the trees behind the castle for the old trunk in which was the little door. no trace of it was to be seen. but this scarcely disappointed them. 'it wouldn't be a magic door,' said hildegarde, 'if it was always there, or at least, always to be found. no, leonore, we must just wait till the spinning-wheel fairy sends us some message or tells us somehow what we are to do.' to which leonore agreed. nevertheless, on many an afternoon they lay down with their ears to the ground near the spot where they believed the entrance to gnomeland to be, listening if no murmur of the queer underground life, which they had had a glimpse of, could reach them. but it never did. at last one day hildegarde appeared with a look on her face which told leonore that she had something to tell, and as soon as they were by themselves she began eagerly. 'leonore,' she said, 'i believe i have got a message at last from our fairy. i am not sure if it was a dream or if she was really there. it was quite early this morning before i was up, i thought i saw her standing beside my bed--her real self, you know, not the little old market-woman--she smiled and said, "you have been very patient children, and now you shall be rewarded. crack two more of your nuts this afternoon when you are up in the woods. throw high and throw together, and you will see." and then, when i was going to speak to her and thank her, and ask her to explain a little more, she was gone.' 'of course it was a message,' said leonore; 'let us hurry off as fast as we can,' for it was already afternoon. 'i should think the best place would be just where we cracked the first ones.' 'no,' said hildegarde, '_i_ think, as near as we can guess to the magic door, would be the best. further up in the woods i mean, than where we cracked the nuts.' so thither they hastened, full of eagerness and excitement. 'you crack first this time,' said hildegarde, 'as i did the last.' leonore obeyed her, and both little girls peered anxiously into the nutshell. their first idea was that it would contain some paper of directions, as had been the case before, but it was not so. on the contrary, the only thing they saw was a little mass of very, very fine colourless thread or silk, so fine indeed as to seem almost like cobweb. with the utmost care leonore drew it out--it was stronger than it looked, for at one end was attached to it a small, delicately-fashioned silver hook, like the finest fairy fish-hook. the children stared at each other. 'what can it mean?' they said. leonore gave the threads a little shake, one end dropped to the ground and, in doing so, unravelled itself. 'i see what it is,' exclaimed hildegarde. 'it is a rope ladder, a fairy's rope ladder of course, for nothing stronger than a spider could possibly climb up it. perhaps my nut will explain.' so saying, she hastened to crack it, but to their surprise and momentary disappointment its contents were precisely the same as those of leonore's nut. 'well,' said hildegarde, after a moment or two's reflection, 'we're evidently meant to find out for ourselves what to do with these queer things.' 'but the fairy did say something to you,' leonore reminded her, '"throw high," wasn't that what she said?' 'yes,' said hildegarde, 'how stupid of me to have forgotten, we must be meant to throw these little hooks which are at one end up into the air, like the indian jugglers i have heard about, and, as they are fairy hooks, i suppose they will find something to catch on to. "throw high and throw together," was what she said, so here goes. hold your hook carefully leonore, as i do. i will count, and when i get to three we must throw--one, two----' and at 'three' both children flung up the tiny missiles into the air. up, up, they flew, or seemed to fly, as straight as a rocket, till nothing was to be seen but the quivering thread gleaming brightly in the sunshine, which at that moment broke through the branches. and then, so quickly that they could not watch the change, the fairy ladders grew and swelled, till the threads of which they were made were as firm and strong as tightly twisted fine rope. they grew taut too, the lower end disappearing into the ground, as if held there by invisible hands. hildegarde's eyes shone with delight. ''tis plain what we are meant to do,' she said; 'we are to climb up.' leonore, on the contrary, looked a little frightened. 'up to where?' she said timidly. 'oh,' said hildegarde, 'that remains to be seen, of course. don't be silly, leonore. i think it was far more frightening to go down underground than to climb up into the beautiful sky. come along.' and they set off on their strange journey. it was not difficult after all. the rope felt firm and substantial, even though soft to the touch, so that it in no way rasped their hands. and when they got a little higher, they began to see that the hooks had attached themselves to the very top of an immensely tall tree, which somehow gave leonore more confidence. 'i am not in the least giddy; are you?' said hildegarde. 'i am beginning to feel like a bird.' and leonore agreed that she too felt perfectly at ease. 'that's what comes of having to do with fairies,' said hildegarde with satisfaction; 'with a fairy like ours, at least. you see she plans everything so nicely for us.' a few moments more and their heads were on a level with the topmost branches. just as they were wondering what was coming next, they heard a voice a little above them. 'jump,' it said. 'first hildegarde, then leonore; don't be frightened, i will catch you.' up they sprang fearlessly, for something in the voice made fear impossible, though instinctively they closed their eyes, and----. when they opened them again, there stood the spinning-wheel fairy, smiling at them, as they lay together on a couch of something soft and blue, soft yet firm. 'are we on the other side of the sky?' asked hildegarde. the fairy nodded. 'you are in tree-top land,' she said, 'the country of the air-fairies. when you have rested after your ascent, i will show you the way on, and before long you will meet some old friends. in the meantime i will draw up your ladders, for they may serve again, and we don't like wasting anything. i spun them for you myself long ago. i have a spinning-wheel up here as well as down below.' she moved away, seeming to melt into the lovely blue which was all around them. but in a moment or two she returned again and held out a hand to each child, and, springing to their feet, hildegarde and leonore gladly took hold of her. then just before them, to their surprise, if they had still been able to feel surprise, they saw a little silver gate, which opened of itself as they approached it, and passing through with the fairy, they found themselves at the edge, of what they at first thought was a lovely lake of water, sparkling blue in the sunshine. but there were no boats upon it. 'how are we to cross it,' asked hildegarde. 'surely this is fairyland itself at last?' but their guide shook her head. 'no, not fairyland itself,' she replied, 'though on the way to it. real fairyland is still far away. i can only do as i promised you--show you some of the countries that lie between your land and it. boats are not needed here. what you see is not water but air, and with these you will easily make your way across the lake.' so saying, she drew from under her mantle something white and fluffy, which proved to be two little pairs of wings, one pair for each child, which she slipped over their heads. they fitted as if they had always grown there, and, light as they had felt themselves before, hildegarde and leonore now seemed to themselves to be made of air itself. 'off with you,' said the fairy laughing, with a little toss of her hand towards the children as if they had been two balls of thistle-down. 'when you have seen enough and want to go home you will easily find me; you have only to listen for the whirr of my spinning-wheel.' and she was no longer there. flying or swimming, which was it? they could scarcely have told. for though their wings kept them up as lightly as any bird, their feet too seemed to move in time with their wings. 'isn't it lovely?' said hildegarde, and leonore, who at first felt a little breathless, laughed back in agreement. but this journey through the blue soon came to an end. the wings seemed to be their guides, for they suddenly dropped on their shoulders, and the children found themselves standing in front of another silver gate, higher and more imposing than the former one. it glittered so that for a moment or two they were dazzled, but as their eyes grew accustomed to the brilliance, looking up, they saw worked in, among the silvery trellis, some letters, which with a little difficulty they spelt out. 'singing-school,' were the words they read. 'singing-school,' repeated hildegarde, 'what can that mean?' 'and the fairy said we should soon meet some old friends,' added leonore. 'oh, hildegarde,' and she held up her hand, 'i think i understand, listen.' they stood perfectly still and gradually sweet sounds reached their ears--a soft warbling as of many little voices in harmony. then came a moment's silence, followed by the notes of a single singer, then warbling again--and again another voice alone, trilling high, high, till it seemed to melt away in the distance. 'that was a lark,' said leonore, 'the last one, and the one before a blackbird, i think.' 'or a thrush,' said hildegarde, 'yes, i rather think it was a thrush.' but in the eagerness with which they had been listening, they had not noticed that the high gates had opened gently inwards, and in the centre between them stood two charming figures smiling at the children. 'come in,' said one of them, 'we have been expecting you for some time.' 'are you the air-fairies?' asked hildegarde. she spoke with more confidence than to the gnomes; there was something so sweet and gracious about these pretty creatures that no one could feel afraid of them. 'yes,' was the reply, 'and we are also the birds' singing-teachers. here you will see many of your old friends--nightingales, larks, blackbirds, robins, all of them, even down to the poor little sparrows, whom we teach to chirp and twitter.' 'how wonderful!' exclaimed the children. 'are they all the little young birds?' asked leonore; 'no, of course not,' she added, 'they can't be, for this is autumn.' 'we have classes all the year round,' said one of the fairies, 'except in the very middle of your summer, when we give them a holiday, that you may all enjoy the bird concerts to perfection.' they had been walking slowly onwards till now, through a wide passage, the walls of which were like the whitest marble, though without its hard coldness. and now the fairy opening a door signed to them to pass in, and as they did so, the music they had heard grew clearer and louder. for they were in the central hall of the great bird singing-school. there they were, rows and rows of them, each family by itself, the smaller birds higher up, the bigger ones nearer the ground, and at the end of each row, perched a little apart from the others, was the head bird of his tribe--these, as the fairies afterwards explained, being the monitors of each class. but the queerest thing was, that every kind of bird was there, even such as we never think of as musical in any way, for down the central passage were strolling some magnificent peacocks, long red-legged storks; and in a large basin of water at the farther end, graceful swans, snowy ducks, and even homely gray-plumaged geese were contentedly enjoying themselves. hildegarde and leonore gazed in surprise. 'peacocks,' they exclaimed, 'peacocks and ducks and geese--why, none of them can sing!' the fairy smiled. 'ah,' she said, 'the ears that hear have something to do with true music; down below in your world it is not like here with us. much that is true music sounds to you harsh and unlovely. wait a little and you shall hear for yourselves.' chapter ix a concert a kiss on each forehead and she was gone! _the fairy's visit._ greatly wondering, hildegarde and leonore followed the fairy to the end of the large hall, where there hung by silver cords from the roof two little seats, cushioned with the softest down. 'rest yourselves in there,' she said; and though the little swinging chairs were a few feet from the ground, they sprang into them without the least difficulty, as their wings at once unfolded to waft them upwards. 'you may swing yourselves in time to the music, if it amuses you,' said the fairy; 'and now i must meet my sisters to get all ready for our concert.' the children were well content to stay where they were, watching and listening with the greatest eagerness. a door at the farther end from that by which they had entered opened, admitting the sound of soft music, and in a few moments a procession of air-fairies appeared, marching two and two, each with some instrument on which she was playing. they ranged themselves in the very centre of the hall, the two fairies who had received the children standing at each end of the group to command and direct. the music stopped; there was a flutter of excitement among the birds. then the accompaniment of the instruments began again--softly at first, then louder, then sinking once more to gentler tones. but now--words fail to describe the wonderful sounds which filled the air in one great harmony, though to those learned in such things, and with ears endowed with the magic gift of perfect hearing, every little voice could be distinguished. in such company the peacock's harsh cry sounded like a distant but musical call, the duck's quacking like the pleasant clatter of castanettes; all was lovely, for all told of happiness and harmony, and the children felt as if they could sit there listening for ever. and when, almost suddenly, the music stopped in one great triumphant outburst, it seemed to them as if, for the first time in their lives, they had known what it was truly to _hear_. then came a loud, merry flapping of wings; the birds flew off their perches and soared about the hall, then ranged themselves again, and passed in rows before the fairies, with twitters of farewell before they flew, or hopped, or waddled out of the doors and windows of the great hall, many more of which had opened of themselves as the music ceased. the fairies who had taken part in the concert glided out, two and two, as they had entered, playing a soft, low march, and then the great hall was empty again, save for the two children and their two fairy hostesses. at a sign from their friends, hildegarde and leonore sprang to the ground. 'have you enjoyed the concert?' asked one of the fairies. 'oh,' exclaimed the children together, it was too wonderful, too beautiful.' 'we can never hear anything like it again,' added leonore half-sadly; 'down where we live the air is too thick and heavy, i suppose, to hear anything so perfectly.' 'yes,' said the fairy, 'that is so; but those who have once heard can never again be as if they had not done so. you will always remember and be able to catch the echoes, though far away, of perfect harmony, even in common sounds.' for a moment or two the children were silent; perhaps they did not quite understand, but they remembered, which was as good, or better. 'is it time for us to go home now?' asked hildegarde. 'the spinning-wheel fairy said we should easily find her, and she will show us how to get back.' 'there is no hurry,' said one of their friends. 'would you not like to see a little more of our country? we are always busy, for we have much to do, but to those sent by the spinning-wheel fairy we have time to give.' she held out a hand to each child, the second fairy smiling in token of farewell. 'i will go now, sister,' she said. 'i must see to some of the fledglings who are just beginning to chirp. for the birds come to us from all parts of your world,' she added, turning to the children, 'and it is not autumn everywhere, you know!' 'may we ask you questions?' said hildegarde. 'you won't think it rude, will you? we were so afraid of offending the gnomes that we scarcely dared to speak when we were with them.' 'ask what you like,' was the reply, 'and what i may i will answer. but we needn't stay here any longer. outside you will see more of our country.' outside the great hall it was still brighter and more sunshiny than within, though over everything was the lovely faint blue haze which had met them when they passed through the first silver gate. it was like, and yet not like, a garden--for there was nothing distinct in the shape of plants or flowers, though everywhere beautiful tree-like forms, quivering amidst waves of opal colour, were to be seen. 'it must be something like the bottom of the sea,' said hildegarde, 'where the mermaids live.' 'no,' said leonore, 'i think it is just like the sky at sunset. i have often wished i could get up on one of the clouds and see over to the other side.' 'and now that is what you are seeing,' said the fairy. 'but please,' began hildegarde again, 'if i may ask you questions, do tell me what you are all busy about, besides teaching the birds to sing?' 'i will tell you a few things,' said the fairy, 'though you would not understand if i tried to tell you all. we have charge of the zephyrs and the breezes. we send them out on their errands, and we have to see that each does its appointed task.' 'oh,' interrupted leonore, 'is this the home of the four winds?--is this the place where they start from, and meet again and make all their plans?' the fairy shook her head. 'no,' she replied, 'the four winds are not fairies, they are spirits, and above us all; it is only the little winds, so to say--which are to the great ones like the little brooks compared to the great ocean--over whom we have authority. and,' she added more lightly, 'they are troublesome enough sometimes, i assure you--mischievous little imps--though they can be very sweet too, and seldom do real harm, and indeed, as a rule, a great deal of good. but for them your world would be dull and dreary.' 'yes,' said leonore, 'i should not like to live where everything was always quite still. and the little breezes are kind, aren't they? when it is very hot, it is lovely to feel one of them softly blowing round your face.' 'they are kind and tender too,' said the fairy; 'some of the gentlest among them are specially employed in refreshing poor sick people in their hot stifling rooms. they wait outside the windows patiently till they get a chance of entering. then some of them spend most of their time in playing with little children, filling the sails of their tiny boats, or flying their kites and shuttlecocks for them.' while talking thus, the fairy had led them onwards. but now she stopped in front again of another silver gate. 'inside here,' she said, 'is one of the nurseries of the little clouds; we let them out every now and then for a race. would you like to see them? it is prettiest perhaps by moonlight, but i must not keep you here till night.' she opened the gate, and out flew a crowd of feathery forms, dancing, leaping, tumbling over each other in their hurry to escape; then at a sign from the fairy, off they flew, upwards, a dozen or more together, in a whirl and flutter. you can scarcely imagine anything prettier than it was. they flew so high that for a minute or two they were out of sight, then back they came again, some much in advance of the others, till the first one who had gained the race floated down to the fairy's feet, taking shape as it did so till it grew into the shadowy form of a little cherub, smiling up with its sky-blue eyes for its reward. 'well done,' said the fairy. 'now off you can go, all of you, for an hour or two; some little streams are very thirsty to-day, i hear, and will be glad to see you.' and at once the whole feathery troop disappeared. the children turned to the fairy with smiling delight. 'how pretty and good they are,' said hildegarde. 'i shall always think of you when i see the little clouds scudding across the sky--i have often thought they looked so alive. do you never come down to our world yourself, fairy?' 'oh yes,' she replied, 'we have to keep all the wind instruments in order. some we bring back with us here to repair, in the middle of the night, so that nobody misses them; but some we work at down where they are, and people say the weather has changed, and that somehow their instruments have got right again of themselves. that is one of our secrets, you see.' 'i wish you would let us know when you come,' said hildegarde. 'we wouldn't tell anybody, and i am sure we would gladly sit up all night.' but the fairy shook her head. 'that cannot be,' she said, 'you would not be able to see me down there. still, i can send you messages sometimes; the little breezes will always be glad to carry you my love or to kiss you for me.' suddenly she stopped speaking and held up her hand. 'hush,' she said; 'yes, i thought i heard it. it is the spinning-wheel fairy--don't you hear the whirr? it means, i fear, that you must be going. yes, there she is, though your eyes can't see her; she is almost straight above us. she has caught two of the little clouds on their way down, and is sailing on them.' 'how shall we get to her?' exclaimed the children. 'you forget,' laughed the fairy, 'you forget what wings are for,' and with the words she blew softly on their shoulders, the wings stretched themselves, and off flew the children. the quickness of their flight made them close their eyes, and for a moment or two they could hear nothing but the rush of the air as they met it. soon, however, came the sound of a now well-known voice. 'so i had to come to fetch you,' it said, 'instead of your looking for me. that shows, i hope, that the air-fairies entertained you well?' 'yes, indeed,' said both the children. 'it was all so pretty, and they were so kind that we didn't feel the least frightened of offending them. it was quite different from gnomeland,' hildegarde went on, 'and yet you say that both these countries are on the way to real fairyland?' 'yes,' replied their friend, 'so they are, and so are many, many others.' 'i wish we could see them all,' said leonore. 'that would not do,' said the fairy. 'it would take you too much out of your own country, which is not good for any one. but now, dears, i want you to rest a little; even if you go to sleep it won't matter, while i am taking you home.' she held out her arms, and both little girls nestled down beside her. 'are you going to take us all the way home yourself?' asked leonore. 'that will be very nice.' the fairy did not reply, but she began spinning again, which certainly no one but a fairy could do seated on a cloud, and with a little girl tucked under each arm. the soft whirr was very soothing and pleasant to hear; soon both pairs of eyes closed drowsily, and it seemed to their little owners that quite a long time had passed when they awoke, roused by the touch of a feathery kiss on their foreheads, and a softly whispered 'goodbye, my dears, goodbye for the present.' and again they found themselves among the trees a little to the rear of the castle. it was quite daylight, though the afternoons were drawing in now. they felt perfectly bright and rested, and looked at each other with happy faces. 'it was all too lovely, wasn't it?' said leonore, 'and this time i don't feel as if we had been dreaming, do you, hildegarde?' hildegarde was on the point of replying, when from far above their heads came the note of some bird as it flew by. 'to think that we know where you were taught to sing, you little dear,' she said, gazing upwards. 'there will be lots of things to remind us always of the air-fairies--every time we feel the little breezes on our cheeks, or see the clouds chasing each other across the sky!' 'and we have still two nuts left,' said leonore. 'i wonder what will happen when we crack _them_, hildegarde?' 'we must be patient,' was the reply; 'perhaps we may have to wait a good while before the time comes for that. but we must hurry home now, i think, or grandmamma may be getting anxious.' for this day was one which leonore was spending with hildegarde at the castle, as happened now and then for a change, especially when the weather was unsettled. and these were happy days; for the castle, as hildegarde had said, was a splendid place for playing in when there were two to play, though rather too large and lonely for one little girl by herself. their coffee and cakes were waiting for them in the little turret-room, which was hildegarde's own when on a visit to her grandparents. and when they had thoroughly enjoyed these, for travels through the air naturally make little flesh-and-blood girls hungry and thirsty, hildegarde took her friend to the drawing-room, where the old baroness usually sat. she was a tall, fine-looking old lady, a little bit 'frightening' at first, till one got to know her, for her dark eyes were still bright and piercing, not like aunt anna's gentle, dreamy, blue ones. she spent a great deal of her time in working at beautiful embroidery, as her sight was still good, though in the cold weather, which was now coming on, she was not strong enough to go out of doors except on very fine days. she looked up with a smile as they entered the room. 'well, my dear children,' she said, 'i hope you have had some good hot coffee, for you have stayed out rather late, and the evenings are getting very cold. soon you will scarcely be able to go out after dinner, especially as every one is prophesying that we are to have an early winter and a severe one.' 'we have not been at all cold, thank you, grandmamma,' said hildegarde. 'i hope it won't be a very severe winter, at least not before christmas--for do you know, leonore,' and she turned to her little friend, 'that sometimes when it snows heavily here, we cannot even get from the castle to aunt anna's house?' 'oh dear,' said leonore, rather startled, 'i shouldn't like that at all; it would be dreadfully dull if we couldn't be together at christmas.' 'dull for us too,' said the baroness, 'for many, many years my dear friend, fraulein anna, has spent christmas with us. but if there is any sign of snowstorms before then, the best plan will be for you three to come and stay at the castle for a week or two.' the children's faces lighted up with pleasure at the idea. 'in that case,' said hildegarde, 'i shall almost hope for signs of a snowstorm. you have no idea how nice and warm the castle can be made. grandpapa loves huge fires, and the walls are so thick that once the rooms get well heated they don't get cold again quickly.' 'not in your turret, i am afraid, hildegarde,' said her grandmother. 'you will have to move out of it, i expect. indeed, this very day i have been talking to old maria about preparing a room for you on the south side. the turret-rooms cannot but be cold, as they have so much outer wall.' hildegarde looked a little distressed. 'i do so love my turret-room,' she murmured, 'unless,' and she hesitated, 'oh grandmamma,' she went on after a moment's pause, 'if i might have the blue-silk room. i should be so careful to keep it very nice, and in the alcove two little beds could stand, so that if leonore comes to stay here we might be together all night as well as all day.' her grandmother smiled. 'we shall see,' she said, but even this seemed to satisfy the little girl. she jumped up and threw her arms round the baroness. 'most big people when they say "we shall see" mean "no," she said, but you are not like that, grandmamma. _generally_, your "we shall sees" mean "yes, you shall have what you want if it is possible."' 'i should like to see the blue-silk room,' said leonore, half timidly, 'it is such a pretty name. are the chairs all covered with blue silk?' 'better than that,' said hildegarde, 'the walls are hung with blue silk, and there are wreaths of roses worked at the top of the curtains and on the sofas and everywhere. who was it that worked them, grandmamma? my great-great-great-grandmother, wasn't it?' 'no; two "greats" are enough,' said the baroness, 'the embroidery was done by my grandmother; it is really wonderfully beautiful, and it is difficult to believe that one pair of hands did it all. so it is scarcely surprising that there should be an old story telling that the fairies helped my grandmother to do it.' the children glanced at each other. 'i daresay it's quite true,' said hildegarde, but her grandmother only laughed. 'come now, my dear,' she said, 'you must not be too fanciful. the fairies who helped our ancestors were probably those of industry and perseverance--very good fairies too.' 'but now, my child,' she went on, turning to leonore, 'i do not, of course, want to hurry you away, but i am afraid aunt anna and elsa will be wondering what has become of you, besides which, i do not want you to catch cold through coming to visit my hildegarde.' leonore started up. 'yes, i must go,' she said. hildegarde accompanied her as usual to the foot of the hill. 'ask fraulein elsa,' said hildegarde, as they parted, 'to let you come to-morrow morning instead of my going to you, and i will get grandmamma's leave to show you the blue-silk room by full daylight. then in the afternoon, i daresay, grandmamma will let me run down to you.' 'yes,' leonore replied, 'i should like that very much; i have a feeling, hildegarde, that there must be something "fairy" about that room.' and so saying she ran off. chapter x the blue-silk room for this let each remember--life cannot all be play. _the new year's answer._ but the children's plans for the next day did not come to pass. unluckily, leonore had caught cold. it was nothing very bad, but she was subject to sore throats sometimes, which made fraulein doubly careful, if ever she saw any symptoms of her having had a chill. and for some days to come the little girl was not allowed to go out. at first she felt rather dull and depressed, but as her friends were soon satisfied that there was not much the matter with her, hildegarde was allowed to come to see her. 'how did you catch cold?' were her visitor's first words; 'it couldn't surely have been from----' and she stopped short with a smile, for curiously enough the children did not talk very much when they were together, in an ordinary way, of their fairy adventures. leonore gave a little laugh. 'from riding on a cloud,' she said softly. 'no, i am quite sure it was not from that, though certainly if we told anybody about it, they would think it a sure way of catching cold.' 'they wouldn't believe it,' said hildegarde, 'or at least they would think we had been dreaming, but do you know, leonore,' she went on eagerly, 'i shouldn't wonder if some good came of your cold; it's only a fortnight to christmas now, and what grandmamma said that last day you were at the castle seems coming true. there are all the signs of a hard winter, they say, and though grandmamma hasn't told me so, i have a great idea that they are planning for you all to come and stay at the castle with us.' leonore's eyes danced with pleasure. 'how lovely that would be,' she said, 'do tell me what makes you think so, hildegarde?' 'two or three things,' was the reply. 'i heard grandpapa talking about this house, "aunt anna's little house," he called it. he said the roof should have something done to it, in case of heavy snow, and that the bailiff should have told him of this before, for it scarcely could be done while the ladies were living in it. then grandmamma smiled, and said that she thought the difficulty might be got over. and once or twice lately i have met old maria on her way to the blue-silk room. one day, she and another maid were carrying mattresses and things in there, and when i asked her what it was for, she looked funny, and said something about airing things, and evidently didn't want me to go into the room, or ask her any more questions about it. so i shouldn't wonder at all if they are preparing for your all coming. you see grandmamma is like that; she doesn't do things by halves, and if you are to come, she would like to add to our pleasure by giving us the blue-silk room together.' leonore felt so excited that she could scarcely speak. 'i wonder how soon we shall know?' she said at last. 'it wouldn't do to ask aunt anna, or fraulein, i suppose?' hildegarde shook her wise little head very decidedly. 'oh no,' she said, 'if they wanted us to know they would have told us. if it is to be at all, it is to be a surprise; we must just be patient for a few days.' their patience, as it proved, was not very sorely tried. the very first day that leonore was well enough to go out again without fear of fresh cold, she was met by hildegarde at the foot of the hill, and hildegarde's beaming face told its own tale. 'may i, oh may i tell leonore?' she said to fraulein elsa, 'grandmamma has given me leave provided you and aunt anna have no objection.' fraulein could not help smiling. 'my dear child,' she said, 'there would not be much use in stopping you now; leonore cannot but guess that there is a surprise in store; the very way you came dancing down the hill was enough to show it. but we must not keep leonore standing. come home with us and chatter as much as you like.' and in another moment the secret, which of course leonore had already guessed, was told. 'you are all coming to stay at the castle for christmas,' she exclaimed, 'that is to say if your cold doesn't get worse, or----' here fraulein positively laughed. 'and that was to be decided by testing, if it did her no harm to come out to-day,' she said. 'you should have waited till to-morrow, hildegarde.' the little girl looked rather penitent, but leonore soon reassured her-'of course it won't get worse,' she said, 'i haven't the least, tiniest bit of a scrap of sore throat now; the only thing is,' she went on, 'that it doesn't seem as if any snowstorms were coming,' and she looked up doubtfully into her governess's face. 'but why should you want snowstorms?' asked fraulein, 'one can be very happy at christmas time, even if the weather is mild and the fields still green.' 'oh,' said leonore, a little confused, for she did not want to take away the pleasure of the 'surprise,' 'it was only that i thought----' and she hesitated. hildegarde came to the rescue. 'oh,' she said, 'it was only that grandmamma had already mentioned something to us about your perhaps coming to stay at the castle for christmas, if the weather got very bad; and there was something about aunt anna's house needing repair. but all that doesn't matter now in the least. it is fixed, quite fixed, do you hear, leonore?--that you are all coming next monday, whether it snows, or hails, or thunders, or whatever it does.' so far as the present was concerned, there was not much sign of any great weather disturbance, for the day was mild and bright, and leonore was by no means the worse, but decidedly the better, for her little expedition. both children, as children always do, whenever there is any pleasure in prospect, thought that the days would never pass till 'next monday.' but pass they did, and it would have been difficult to find two happier little maidens than hildegarde and her guest, when the rather lumbering old carriage, which had been sent to fetch the three visitors, drew up in front of the castle door. 'come, come, quick,' were hildegarde's first words to leonore, 'i am in such a hurry to take you to our room,' and scarcely allowing her little friend time to receive the greetings of the baron and baroness, and their two younger sons, hildegarde's uncles, who had arrived the night before to spend christmas at home, she seized her little friend's hand, and hurried her off to a part of the castle, which leonore had not yet seen. 'leonore,' she said, stopping to take breath, for though the steps of the staircase which they were mounting were shallow, she had raced up them at a tremendous rate. 'leonore, it is as i thought, we are to have the blue-silk room.' up one other little flight they went, across a small landing and along a corridor, at the end of which a door stood partly open. a pleasant sparkle of firelight met them, and in another moment they were in the most fascinating room that leonore had ever seen or even dreamt of. as hildegarde had described, it was all hung with blue silk, round which were worked lovely wreaths of rosebuds. and the remarkable thing was that the colours both of the silk and the embroidery were as fresh as if they had only just been made, though, as the baroness had told her, leonore knew that certainly more than a century and a half had passed since the room had first been furnished. she stood still, gazing round her. 'oh what a lovely room!' she exclaimed. 'i had no idea any room could have been so beautiful, though you told me about it. but where are our beds, hildegarde?' hildegarde laughed. 'that's the beauty of it,' she said, drawing back, as she spoke, the blue hangings at one end, thus disclosing to view a recess in which stood two little beds side by side. 'it is like several rooms instead of one, there are two or three alcoves that you don't see when the curtains are drawn at night; one of them has a great big window to the south, where it is beautifully warm. i think we shall call that alcove our boudoir.' it was a delightful room, and the two children were very happy, till summoned downstairs to supper, in arranging the newcomer's possessions, and planning how they should spend their time during leonore's stay at the castle. 'we are sure to have a good deal of fun,' said hildegarde, 'for the next week or so while my uncles stay; it is rather a pity that the hard winter that was talked so much about hasn't begun yet, for they would have skated with us.' 'i have never learnt to skate,' said leonore, 'but your uncles look very kind, and perhaps they would have taught me.' 'yes,' hildegarde replied, 'i am sure they would; they are very nice, though not to be compared with papa. if only he and mamma were here, and your father, leonore, we should have everything we could want in the world, wouldn't we?' 'even to knowing that we have still two nuts to crack,' said leonore in a low voice. hildegarde's grandfather looked round the well-filled table with pleasure, when all had taken their places. 'this is much better,' he said heartily, 'than being alone, as we were last christmas, not even our little hildegarde was here. if only your father and mother and our little friend's father too,' he added kindly, turning to leonore, 'were here, i should feel quite satisfied.' 'that is just what we were saying on our way downstairs,' said hildegarde, 'i do believe grandpapa, you have something of a fairy about you too, to guess one's thoughts as you often do. grandmamma is certainly a kind of fairy godmother, as well as being grandmamma. she plans such lovely surprises. leonore and i are _so_ happy in the blue-silk room.' 'oh that is where you have taken up your quarters, is it?' said her grandfather. 'well, you could not be anywhere better; it has the name of being the luckiest room in the castle under fairy guardianship, not that i quite believe in such things, though i do think the castle has some fairy visitors,' he went on more gravely; 'the fairies of love and kindness are with us i hope; indeed, when i look back through a long life, mostly spent here, i think we have been a specially favoured family. my own parents and grandparents were good and kind to everybody.' 'and so, i am sure, are you and grandmamma,' said hildegarde eagerly. leonore looked up half timidly. 'there are other fairies too, the fairies of industry and perseverance, that your grandmother told us about,' she said to hildegarde. the baroness overheard her. 'yes,' she said, with a smile, 'they must have had a hand in the adornment of the blue-silk room.' it was a charming nest in which to fall asleep, with the firelight dancing on the lovely colours of the sheeny silk, and it was a charming room to wake up in the next morning, when the first rays of the pale wintry sunshine began to creep in through the one window, which the little girls had left uncurtained the night before. they were later than usual of getting up, for they had been later than usual of going to bed. rules were to be relaxed somewhat during the christmas holidays. 'are you awake, hildegarde?' said leonore. 'oh yes,' was the reply. 'doesn't the room look pretty?' leonore raised herself on her elbow. 'yes,' she said, 'and so beautifully neat. did you tidy it at all after i got into bed last night, hildegarde?' 'no indeed,' laughed her friend, 'i was too sleepy. i wonder if amalia has been in already this morning without waking us.' 'i could almost fancy she had,' said leonore, for i have a dreamy feeling of having heard some one moving about softly, as if they were putting things straight or dusting.' just then came the maid's tap at the door; but on being questioned as to whether she had been in before, she laughingly shook her head, owning that she herself had slept later than usual that morning--if the young ladies had heard any one arranging the room, it must have been a 'brownie.' the children were not unwilling to think so. 'i daresay it was,' said hildegarde in a whisper, 'it is only to be expected in a fairy room like this.' and certainly the next few days passed happily enough to justify the pleasant belief that the blue-silk room brought joy to those who inhabited it. though frost and snow kept off, and there was no chance of skating, there were plenty of other amusements out of doors, as well as indoors; for hildegarde's uncles proved quite as kind as leonore thought they looked, and planned pleasant walks and drives and games for the two little girls. then came christmas itself, the happiest that leonore had ever known, for her father had never been with her, that she could remember, at that season, and she had often, at home in england, felt it a little lonely. they had a christmas-tree of course, a great beauty, provided with exactly the right presents for everybody, servants and humble friends connected with the castle, as well as for the family itself and their visitors. and in the midst of all this enjoyment and excitement, the little girls almost forgot that they had still two magic nuts to crack, when the right time should come. two days after christmas the scene changed. in the first place, the uncles had to leave to rejoin their regiments--greatly to the little girls' regret, and then began the fulfilment of the weather prophet's predictions. there came sudden and severe cold, soon followed by a heavy fall of snow, accompanied by gales, such as were seldom known in that inland part of the country; weather indeed, almost approaching what is nowadays called a 'blizzard.' at first the children found it rather amusing, though the baron looked grave, as news was brought in of the destruction among his trees, and after a day or two, the wind fell, but the snow continued. and even when it ceased to fall, leaving the house was completely out of the question, so deep did it lie, and to such a height had it, in many parts, drifted. after some days of this enforced imprisonment, hildegarde and leonore began to think a snowstorm by no means a laughing matter. they had played all their games so often, that they were growing tired of them; they had read and re-read their books, of which there was no great number suitable for children in the castle, and one afternoon, when they were by themselves, in their own room, they looked at each other rather disconsolately, the same question rising to the lips of both. 'what shall we do with ourselves?' fraulein had done her utmost to amuse them, but she too, by this time, was almost at the end of her resources, and they knew it was no use to apply to her again, unless they wished to begin lessons, in earnest before the holidays were over! so they sat down together on the floor, in front of the fire, half laughing at their own dullness. suddenly, in one corner of the room, they heard a little tapping; had it been summer, and had the windows been open, they could have fancied it the tap of a wood-pecker, so clear and dainty did it sound. 'what can that be?' exclaimed hildegarde; 'listen, leonore,' and again came the tapping. the children held their breath to listen. then---[illustration: the unselfish mermaid.] chapter xi 'the unselfish mermaid' the stranger viewed the shore around. _the lady of the lake._ leonore sprang to her feet, and as she did so something fell on the floor; it was her last remaining nut! she gazed at hildegarde. 'look,' she exclaimed, 'it dropped out of my pocket of itself; it means a message, i am sure it does. where is your nut, hildegarde?' 'here,' was the reply, as she held it out. 'the time has come for cracking them,' said leonore, and as she uttered the words the tapping in the corner of the room was repeated more loudly and rapidly, as if to say, 'quite right, quite right.' then it suddenly stopped. 'here goes,' said hildegarde, cracking her nut as she spoke, and the two pair of eyes peered eagerly into the shell. there lay a neat little roll of tiny blue ribbon. hildegarde drew it out. it was only an inch or two in length, but on it were clearly printed six words:- tap, tiny hammer, till you find. but where was the tiny hammer? this question did not trouble the children for long. without speaking, leonore cracked _her_ nut, disclosing to view, as they expected, a 'tiny hammer' indeed--so tiny that even the little girls' small fingers had difficulty in holding it firmly. 'how can i tap with it?', she was on the point of saying to hildegarde, when, as she gazed, she saw the little hammer stretch itself out till it grew to an inch or two in length, the silver head increasing also in proportion, so that it was now much easier to grasp it. 'how convenient it would be,' said hildegarde, 'if we could pack up luggage in the way things are packed into our nuts; but let us be quick, leonore. i wonder where we should begin tapping.' 'in the corner where we heard the other tapping, of course,' said leonore. but this did not prove to be the right spot. there was no reply to their summons, and some patience and perseverance were required to prevent their yielding to disappointment. they had no reason, however, for distrusting their fairy friend, and a new idea struck hildegarde. 'leonore,' she exclaimed, 'perhaps we are meant to tap on the wall itself, behind the silk hangings. see, if i hold them back carefully, you can creep in and tap right into the corner.' no sooner said than done, and this time not in vain. with almost the first blow of the little hammer, a small door in the wall opened inwards, and before them the children saw the first steps of a narrow spiral staircase winding upwards. they fearlessly entered, the little door closing behind them, and began to ascend the steps. it was not dark, for slits in the wall let in from time to time tiny shafts of light; nor was it cold, though where the warmth came from they could not tell. 'to think,' said hildegarde, 'of there being a secret staircase that nobody knows of, for i am sure no one does know of it. but oh, leonore, how very high we seem to be going'; for though they had been mounting for some minutes, there was no sign of the staircase coming to an end. this time it was leonore who encouraged her friend. 'hush!' she said, 'i hear something; it is the sound of the spinning-wheel, hildegarde; i believe we shall see our fairy in a second now.' she was right. they found themselves on a little landing, the entrance to which was screened by blue silk hangings, just like those in their room below, and as they stood, uncertain what to do next, the curtains were drawn apart, revealing the prettiest picture they had ever seen; for there sat the spinning-wheel fairy, busy at work as usual, but the thread she was spinning was neither flax nor wool, nor even silk. what it was the children could not tell, unless, as they said afterwards to themselves, it was made of rainbows. fine as it was, it glittered and shone, seeming of every colour in turn, sparkling against the pure white robe of the fairy spinner. for a moment or two she did not speak to them, and they stood silent in admiration. then she stopped and greeted them with a smile. 'i had not forgotten you, you see,' were her first words. 'i have been spinning for you all to-day.' 'are you going to take us somewhere?' asked hildegarde; 'is the thread to make ladders of again?' and she touched it gently as she spoke. the fairy shook her head. 'no,' she replied, 'guess once more.' 'i had thought,' said leonore, 'that our next treat would perhaps have to do with the sea. we have been down in the ground with the gnomes, and up in the sky with the air-fairies, and we don't want to go into fire-land, but we _should_ like to hear about mermaids and sea-fairies.' 'i could not show you the secrets of the ocean,' said the fairy gravely; 'that is not in my power. it has its own voice, and only those who live on it, or by it, for generations can understand its mystery. true, it is one of the border countries between your world and fairyland, but your little feet are not prepared for travelling there.' the two children listened in silence, with a look of disappointment on their faces. 'we have read such lovely stories,' said hildegarde, 'about the palaces down in the sea.' 'stories,' repeated the fairy. 'ah, well, how would you like to hear a story, instead of paying another visit?' 'we should like it very much indeed,' they said together. 'it is so cold and snowy outside, we would rather stay with you, if you will tell us stories, dear fairy,' 'but first,' continued hildegarde, 'would you mind telling us where we are?' and she glanced round at the pretty little room in which they found themselves. it was like a tent, all draped in blue silk, of the same shade as the hangings of their room below, but the wreaths embroidered upon it were of white lilies instead of rosebuds. 'are we up on the roof of the castle, or where?' 'never mind where you are,' the fairy replied; 'is it not enough for you to know that you are with me? but something i _will_ explain to you. this thread,' and she touched it as she spoke, 'is spun from gossamer which has come from a long way off. i fetched it myself for you from fairy-tale-land. sit down beside me while i pass it through your fingers. hold it very gently, for a rough touch would destroy it, and while i tell you my story close your eyes. the thread has the power of causing pictures to pass before you of all that i relate.' 'that will be beautiful,' exclaimed the children. 'quite as nice as travelling there ourselves, and much cosier,' and they both settled themselves on a soft white fleecy rug at the fairy's feet, while she carefully caused the rainbow thread to pass through their hands. and in a moment or two she began her tale. 'you have asked for a story of the sea,' she said. 'there are many such--many, many--but some too sad for my little girls to hear--sad, that is to say, for those who are not yet able to understand the whole of the mystery of the great ocean. so i have chosen one which, though partly sad, is happy too.' 'thank you,' murmured the children dreamily, for their eyes were already shut, and with these first words of the fairy there began to steal over them the feeling of the sea, though scarcely yet a picture. but they felt or saw the gleaming of the water, the rippling of the little waves on the shore, the far-off boom of the greater ones as they dashed against some rocky cliffs; nay, more, the very fragrance of the sea seemed to steal upon them as the magic thread passed slowly through their little fingers. 'long, long ago,' continued the fairy, 'down below in one of the most beautiful parts of the ocean world, there lived a race of sea folk. their lives are much longer, as i daresay you have heard, than those of dwellers in your earth-country, so that the youngest of those i am telling you of counted her age by scores of years, where you count by one, and yet, compared to many of her companions, she seemed still quite a child. until now, childish things had been enough for her. day after day brought its own delights; playing about among the sea-caves; swimming races with her brothers and sisters; adorning their home with rare sea-flowers and wonderful shells, to get which they thought nothing of journeying hundreds of miles; these and such-like pastimes were enough for the little sea-maiden. she had even, so far, no wish to rise to the surface and look out beyond the ocean borders; it would frighten her she said, or maybe she would see something sad, and she had no mind to be frightened or saddened, she would say laughingly, as she swam off, on some new game of play, heedless of her elders' reminders that it was time, even for a mermaid, to begin to take life more seriously. but at last a time came, even to this thoughtless little sea-maiden, when she began to think. it was partly the doing of one of the most aged of her race, one to whom all looked for counsel and advice, one who knew much more than even her own people suspected, and whose heart was full of love for all living things. '"my child," she said one day to emerald, for such was the name of that little sea-maiden; "my child, does it never strike you that you cannot always be young? a day will come when you will be old like me, and dull and dreary would my life be now if i had no stores of the past to look back upon; if i had learnt nothing but to amuse myself, without thought for the future." 'emerald looked up at her with a smile. '"but that time is still far off," she said, "and i am so content with the present. it is all so bright and happy. i want nothing else. when i feel myself beginning to get tired of fun and play, i will come to you kind grand-dame, and you shall teach me some of your knowledge, of the worlds outside ours, and of the beings that live in them." '"when that day comes," said the ancient sea-lady, "i shall be no longer here, and, after all, knowledge is not the greatest thing. i would fain see your heart enlarged by wider sympathy, my little one; even if some sadness and sorrow come with it," but the last few words she murmured so low that emerald did not hear them. '"what are the memories of the past that make you happy to remember now?" said emerald, suddenly, for something in her old friend's words had touched her, in a way she had never felt before. '"they are many," was the reply, "some you could not understand; others you might already learn for yourself. i love to think of the services to others i have, in my time, been allowed to render. more than once it has been my happiness to save the lives of dwellers on the land, human beings, as they are called. i have saved them when they were drowning and carried them in safety to their own shores, little as they knew that it was my doing, or that the friendly wave which floated them out of danger was in reality the arm of a mermaid. i have sung sweet songs and lullabies to the suffering and weary in the great ships that pass above us, or even, sometimes, to the fishermen's children in their humble homes on our borders, soothing them into life-giving sleep, though they thought my song was but the gentle wailing of the wind. such services as these, emerald, you might soon take your share of; for like all our race you have a lovely voice, and our gift of song should ever be used for good, if our hearts are true, and not to lure human beings to destruction. for after all they are our brothers and sisters." 'emerald thanked her gently as she swam away, and the words she had heard took root in her merry little heart. especially did she like the idea of using her beautiful voice to please or benefit others--those strange dwellers on the land, whom she had often heard about, though not till now with any wish to see or know them for herself. they were to be pitied, she had been told, for life was hard upon them; toil and pain and weariness, such as her race knew nought of, seemed to be their common lot. and among the best of her own people she knew, too, that it was accounted a good deed to minister to them. so from that time emerald began to pay more attention when she heard her friends or companions talking together, as often happened, of their excursions to the upper world and of what they saw there. '"some day," she said to one of her older sisters, "some day i should like to go with you when you swim up to the surface, or when you sit among the rocks and caves on the shore, watching the ships pass, and hearing the talk of these human beings in the little boats, which you say they love to sail in when the weather is calm." 'her companions looked at her in surprise. '"why, emerald," said one of them, "you have always been content, and more than content, to frolic and play in our own beautiful world. i think you would do better to stay there; the weather is not always bright and calm up above, and there are sad sights and sounds, such as you have no idea of." 'but the little mermaid persisted. '"all the same," she replied, "i should like to see and hear for myself. i am growing older now, and new thoughts come when one ceases to be a child." 'some time passed, however, before she had any opportunity of following the counsel of her aged friend. there were great doings just then in the sea-country, for the daughter of the king was to wed with the son of another great ocean sovereign far away on the other side of the world, and the only talk that went on was of festivity and rejoicing, and in this emerald was ready enough to take her share. one day, however, when she was amusing herself as usual, she came upon a group of her friends who were consulting together earnestly about some matter of importance. '"what are you all talking about?" she asked. '"nothing that you can help in," was the reply, "for you know nought of such matters. our princess has expressed a wish that among her wedding gifts should be something from the upper world. she is tired of all our ocean treasures, and would fain have something rarer and more uncommon." '"what sort of thing?" asked emerald curiously. '"nay," they answered, "that remains to be seen. there are not many things within our power to get, as we dare not linger long on dry land, nor many things that would preserve their earthly beauty, if brought down here to our sea home. the flowers, for instance, are such poor frail things; they would wither into nothing at once. it is a serious matter, and we are arranging that the cleverest and most experienced of us should be entrusted with the matter." 'emerald clasped her hands in appeal. "oh, i pray you," she said, "let me be one of those whom you send. true, i have never been up to the surface before, but i am quick and agile, as you know, and young like the princess herself. i am sure i could find something that would please her, if you will but let me go too." 'the elder ones smiled at her, but she was a sort of spoilt child among them, and any request of hers was rarely refused. so almost to her surprise her wish was granted, and the very next day the little party set forth on their voyage upwards. 'it was somewhat toilsome work for emerald, unaccustomed as she was to ascending to any distance, and when at last they reached the surface, she was half exhausted, and thankful to rest a little with her companions on a small islet, not far from the shore. 'after a short while, when they felt refreshed, the little party of mermaids separated, agreeing to meet again at the same place, before the sun should set. '"but we cannot tarry here long," said the eldest, "so do not let us wait for each other more than a short time"; for it was scarcely safe to show themselves much so near the shore, for among the human beings on the land there were, as the sea-folk well knew, cruel and mischievous ones, as well as kind and gentle. 'the eldest sister wished to take emerald with her, as the child was so unaccustomed to the strange land, but emerald begged to be allowed to stay by herself. '"i shall be very cautious," she said, "and if you do not find me here on your return, you may be pretty sure that i shall have gone home already. i have a strong belief that, if you trust me, i shall find something that will delight the princess as our wedding gift." 'so the others swam away, leaving emerald alone. she remained on the rocks for a little while gazing around her, then taking courage, she dived into the water again, and swam straight to the shore. 'the coast at this part was very pretty, green lawns, bordered by graceful trees, sloped down almost close to the water's edge, and on rising ground, a little inland, emerald perceived the white walls of a beautiful house. "a palace"--she called it to herself, for in the sea country their king and his court lived in a shining dwelling, adorned with shells and coral, and other ocean treasures; while the rest of his people made their homes in the deep sea caves. 'she nestled into a shady corner, sheltered by some drooping trees and flowering shrubs, finding pleasure and amusement enough in gazing at the pretty scene around her,--"though i wish," she said to herself, "i could see some of these wonderful human beings that the others talk so much about." and after a time, she began to ask herself how and where she was to seek for the treasure she had felt so confident of finding for the princess? 'she was too timid to venture ashore altogether, so she sat there, idly dabbling in the clear water, waiting for something, she knew not what, which would put her in the way of redeeming her pledge. suddenly, the sound of voices reached her ears. down a sloping path, through the pleasure grounds, two children came running--one some yards in advance of the other, the second one being rather taller and bigger than the little creature in front whom he was playfully pretending to chase. on ran the tiny girl, shouting in glee at the idea of winning the race. she was scarcely more than a baby, and the boy behind her was also very young. as they drew yet nearer to emerald, she saw that the first comer held in her hand something which sparkled in the sun--it was a necklet of finely wrought gold, which she had run off with in a frolic. 'with a cry of triumph she ran to the water's edge, at a spot where the bank dropped suddenly, and flung the ornament into the sea, close to where emerald was concealed; then turning to call back to her brother, in defiance, her little foot slipped, and she herself in another moment disappeared from sight. 'with a cry of terror the elder child was about to throw himself after her, when the nurse in charge of them, whom the mermaid had not before noticed, darted forward and caught him by the arm, herself uttering shrieks of dismay and calls for help. her cries almost immediately brought down two or three gardeners, one of whom, on hearing what had happened, pulled off his coat and flung himself into the water. he struck out bravely, for he was a good swimmer, and felt no doubt of rescuing the child, knowing the exact spot where she had fallen in; but to his surprise, clear and almost shallow though the water was, the little creature was nowhere to be seen. she had utterly disappeared!' chapter xii 'the unselfish mermaid' (_continued_) what then?--the saddest things are sweet. _the boy musician._ the spinning-wheel fairy stopped for a moment. 'oh, go on, go on, please,' said the two little girls. 'it is so interesting, and it has been just as you said; we have seen the pictures of it all gliding before us, as the thread passed through our fingers. do go on, dear fairy; it must be that emerald had caught the little girl.' 'yes,' the fairy continued, 'so it was. small wonder that her rescuer could not find the child. she was lying safe, though as yet unconscious, in the mermaid's arms, the golden chain thrown round emerald's own neck, for she had found it when she stooped to take up the baby. as yet the sea-maiden scarcely realised what she had done, in yielding to the impulse of hiding the child from her friends. and it was not till they had left the spot, in the vain hope that the little creature might have drifted farther down the coast, that emerald dared to breathe freely, and think over what had happened. by this time her little "treasure-trove" had half opened her eyes, and murmured some baby words, for, after all, she had been but momentarily under the water. emerald had no difficulty in soothing her, and in a minute or two the little girl sank into a sweet and natural slumber. then, without giving herself time to think, her new nurse, drawing out a tiny phial, without which no mermaid is allowed to swim to the surface, poured out of it a few drops of a precious liquid, with which she anointed the baby's face and lips. this liquid has the magic power of enabling a human being to live under water without injury, and of restoring to life those on whose behalf all the science of the landsmen would be exerted in vain. '"now, my darling," she whispered to herself, "you are safe, and you belong to me. i can carry you down to our beautiful home, for it must be that you are meant for me, and the jewel, which your little hands flung before you, is the gift that i was to seek for our princess." 'and so saying, though casting cautious glances on all sides, she swam rapidly away till she reached the rocky islet where she had parted from her sisters. there, being well out of sight of the shore, she rested for a time. no one as yet but herself had reached the meeting-place, which emerald by no means regretted. she wished to have the pride and pleasure of exhibiting her treasures down below to all the mermaids who were joining in the gift to the princess, when they assembled together to hear the result of the expedition. possibly, too, at the very bottom of her heart there may have been hidden some little misgiving as to her right to carry away the child, and she may have dreaded her elder sisters' opinion as to this. as regarded the golden necklet, her conscience was quite at rest, for before leaving the shore she had placed there some of the rare shells and pearls which the sea-folk knew to be so highly valued on land, that they were ample payment for anything they might carry off with them from the upper country. 'now, rapidly, she made her way homewards, seeking her own little bower at once, and there, on her couch, she laid the still sleeping child; then drawing from her own neck the beautiful chain, she sought about for the prettiest shell she could find, in which to lay it ready for the princess's acceptance. 'before very long she heard the voices of her sisters and friends returning; she hastened out to meet them. her eldest sister gave an exclamation of pleasure as soon as she caught sight of her. '"oh, emerald," she cried, "i am so glad to see you. we couldn't help feeling a little anxious at not finding you on the rock; it seems you did not enjoy your visit to the surface, as you hastened back so soon." '"that was not my reason for returning so quickly," said emerald, with a smile. "i found what i sought"--"and more too," she added to herself in a low voice--"so there was no reason for delay. see, sisters, and all of you, what i have found. could anything be prettier or rarer as a gift to our princess?" 'her companions crowded round her eagerly, and all united in admiring and approving of the beautiful gold ornament. '"and you shall have the full credit of having found it, little emerald," they said; "but for you we should have been sadly discouraged." 'for they had returned either empty-handed, or at best bringing trifles, scarcely worth offering to the princess. 'the chain was carefully put away till the next day, when it was to be presented, and then the little crowd dispersed, which emerald was glad of, as she was anxious to confide to her most trusted sister the secret of the _living_ treasure which she had hidden in her bower. 'the elder mermaid looked at the sleeping child with startled eyes. '"emerald," she exclaimed, "you did not steal her surely?" '"no, no," the little mermaid replied, "she fell almost into my arms--but for me she would have lost her life; she is mine, my very own, and i do not pity her people for losing her; they should have taken more care of the little darling." 'just then the baby awoke and gazed about her in surprise. then her little face puckered up for a cry at the strangeness of everything she saw, but before she had time to utter it emerald caught her in her arms. '"my sweet," she said, and the child looked up at once at the sound of the lovely voice, "my sweet, you must not cry, i have so many pretty things to show you. you shall be quite safe and happy here with us in the beautiful sea." 'the little girl looked up at her, and a smile gradually broke over her face. '"show me the pretty things," she said, "and then, then you will take me home, kind lady, won't you? home to brother and nurse and mamma--they will cry if baby doesn't come soon." 'her sister glanced at emerald as she heard these words, but the younger mermaid would not see the glance. '"baby shall see all the beautiful things now at once," she replied; "she shall catch the little fishes in her hands as they swim past, and gather the pretty sea-flowers and pick up shells, such as you have never seen. and i will sing songs to baby, such pretty ones." the little creature smiled again. '"baby would like that," she whispered. "baby will take the pretty flowers and shells home to show brother and nurse." '"yes, yes," said emerald hastily, "baby is going to be such a happy little girl," and then, taking her hand, she led her away to the sea-gardens round the palace, amusing her so well, and singing to her when she grew tired, that at first it seemed as if all thought of her home and former life would soon fade from her infant memory. 'and thus things went on for some little time. while the child was happy and merry, she seldom spoke of returning to the upper world; but if anything crossed her baby wishes, or at night when she grew sleepy, her cry was sure to be again, "oh please, kind lady, take me home." 'then emerald would rock her in her arms, and sing to her the wonderful songs of the mermaidens, so strange and lovely that the child seemed bewitched by them, and her little face would lose all look of distress. and when this happened, emerald's spirits rose again and she would murmur to herself, "my darling is growing quite happy and contented. i shall never need to part with her. the upper world would seem coarse and clumsy to her now." 'the young mermaid's own character seemed quite changed by the charge of the tiny foundling. instead of being the first to propose new games of play, or even mischief, she now grudged every moment that separated her from the little human girl, and her companions often rallied her about her devotion to her "new toy," as they called it. '"you will get tired of her after a while," they said, laughing. "you are too young to make yourself into such a mother-slave to her. why, no one would know you for the same maiden!" 'but emerald only smiled in return. '"i shall never get tired of her," she said; "she is my own treasure-trove." 'nevertheless, during all this time some misgiving, low down in her heart or conscience, made her keep away from the aged sea-lady, who had often in time past reproved her for her thoughtlessness. why she did so she excused to herself by saying she had no leisure now for anything but care for the little girl. "and the great-grandmother could not but be pleased if she knew how my time is spent," she would say to herself; "she was always the one to tell me to be of use to others and to be more sedate, and i am certainly now following her counsel." yet notwithstanding these assurances to herself, she took care that in their playing and gambolling she and the baby should keep away from the cave where dwelt the aged grand-dame. 'so time went on. it passes perhaps more quickly, or its passing is less noticed, down in the under-world of the ocean, than with the dwellers on the land. it seemed to emerald but a few days since the coming of her little pet, when her happy belief that all was right received a sudden blow. baby was growing big now, for nearly as much of her life had by this time been spent in the sea as on land, and emerald had fondly hoped that all remembrance of her own home had faded from the child's mind. the princess arrived one day on a visit to her parents. emerald had always been a favourite of hers, and meeting her playing in the palace gardens with her little charge, she stopped to speak to them. '"ah, emerald," she said, "so this is the pretty child you saved? i have heard of her. how well you have treasured her, and i, too, have been careful of _my_ treasure." she touched the long golden chain hanging round her neck as she spoke, and playfully tossed it towards the little girl, who caught it, laughing. but as she looked more closely at the golden links in her fingers, a change came over her little face; it grew troubled, and emerald, fearful lest she should begin to cry, made some excuse to the princess and carried her away, talking merrily as they went. but the child's face did not clear. '"emerald," she said, for by this time she could talk quite perfectly, "something has come back to me. i remember that pretty chain. i threw it into the water, when brother was running after me. oh, emerald, i want to go home to him and the others. you may come too, dear emerald, but i must go home." 'her words sent a thrill of fear through the heart of her young sea-mother. '"oh, baby darling," she said, "what has put such fancies in your little head? are you not happy with emerald and all your pretty toys and games? emerald cannot go away from her own country, and she would be too miserable without you. and you--you would cry sadly at night, if she was not there to sing you to sleep." 'and the trouble on the mermaiden's face, as she spoke thus, grieved the little girl, for she had a tender heart. she gently stroked emerald's cheeks, and said no more for the time. but from that moment, ever and anon, there crept into her soft blue eyes the strange, sad, far-away look which told that the charm was broken. she was pining for her own race and her own land. 'emerald tried not to see it, tried to persuade herself that the child would be miserable away from the sea country, that it would be cruel to the little creature herself to restore her to her friends. gradually, however, it became impossible to go on deceiving herself. baby grew thin and pale--every one noticed it. though gentle and tender as ever to her mermaid nurse, it was rarely now that her voice was heard in laughter or glee; and her smiles were even sadder than the wistfulness in her face. 'but all this time, though emerald knew it not, her aged friend had kept watch over her and her new experience; and one day there came a message, bidding her go to the grand-dame's cave, as she had something to say to her. this was a summons no young mermaid would have dared to disobey, and so, holding the little girl as usual by the hand, she made her way thither. 'her old friend looked at her earnestly. '"it is long since you have been to see me, my child," she said, "and this is your little charge." 'she drew the little girl towards her as she spoke, and kissed her. '"are you happy with emerald?" she asked her gently. the child's pale face flushed deeply. '"emerald is very good to me," she replied, "and sometimes i am very happy, but i have a pain here," and she touched her heart. "i want to go home, i want to see brother and mamma and nurse again; until i do, the pain won't go away." '"it will get better soon, i think," said the sea lady, and then she drew the child's attention to a charming rockery in one corner of her cave, so that she could speak to emerald without being heard. '"you have known this, i fear," she began. "you are not doing right, my child, and your own heart must tell you so." 'emerald hung her head. '"you told me," she said, "you told me not to live for myself, but for the service of others--have i not been doing so?" '"you did well," was the reply, "in saving the child's life, and since then you might have had other chances of the same kind, but you have never returned to the upper world to seek for them. you have yielded to the pleasure to yourself, of giving all your time to her, forgetting or refusing to believe that you have no right to her. she is neither of our race nor blood--think of the bitter tears that must have been shed for her by her own people. see now--now that she is growing older and nature is speaking to her--the suffering that is beginning for herself. no child's face should look as hers does." 'it was enough. emerald threw herself at her old friend's feet in deepest repentance. '"it is all true," she cried; "i see it now, and indeed i knew it before, but i would not let myself think of it. i will take baby back to her home--now, at once, before my courage fails me." 'and the little girl, hearing the distress in her dear emerald's voice, ran forward. '"what is it," she said; "is the lady angry with you?" '"no, no," was the reply, "i am very pleased with emerald; and now, my little girl, the pain at your heart will go. emerald is going to take you home, home to your mother and your brother, and you will be very happy." '"but emerald will come too?" asked the little girl; for though her face grew rosy with delight, her heart misgave her for her mermaid friend. 'emerald drew her towards her and kissed her fondly. '"my darling," she whispered, "i will carry you home myself, but i could not stay in your country." '"and shall i never see you again, then?" asked the little girl sadly. '"i cannot say," emerald replied; "but sometimes, if i may, i will come to the edge of the beautiful garden where is your home, and sing softly, so that you will know i am there. but this must be a secret between you and me. and now," she went on, "there is no time to lose; clasp your arms tightly round my neck, my little one, for we have a long way to go." 'their old friend smiled in approval. '"sing to her, my child," she murmured, "it will lull her to sleep and save her the pain of parting from you. the sun is still high in the heavens, it will be still full daylight when you reach the upper world. lay her on the grass near the spot where you found her and kiss her on the brow. but do not linger yourself; she will wake to full remembrance of her life before she came to you, and all will be well."' * * * * * with these words the spinning-wheel fairy's voice ceased, but hildegarde and leonore did not move or speak for some moments. then they raised their heads and gazed at their kind friend. 'oh, thank you, thank you,' they said, 'for the story and the pictures; we couldn't look up at first, for we saw something more than you had told us. almost the loveliest pictures of all came at the end.' 'there was one,' said hildegarde, 'of the baby running to her mother in the garden, and the little brother came too, and they knew her again in a moment, though she had been so long away--oh, it was beautiful!' 'and,' added leonore, 'the last of all nearly made me cry. the baby had grown quite big and was standing near the water's edge. emerald had been singing to her, and just for one moment we saw her face--so sad, but so sweet. oh, how i should love to have a mermaid friend.' but even as she spoke, her voice grew drowsy. she knew the spinning-wheel fairy was smiling at her and hildegarde, and they both felt her gently releasing the rainbow thread from their fingers, but after that they knew no more, till a sound of tapping woke them up. it was amalia, knocking at the door of the blue-silk room; and when they opened their eyes, there they were, lying on the soft fleecy rug in front of the fire, as if they had never moved the whole afternoon. 'what a nice little sleep you have had, young ladies,' said the maid; 'and now coffee is waiting in the drawing-room, and the baroness has sent me to fetch you. there is good news for you, too; the snow has ceased falling and the wind has gone down. old rudolph says we shall probably have nice clear frost now, and he is talking of getting the pond ready for you to skate.' 'it will be nice to be able to go out again,' said hildegarde to leonore with a smile, 'especially as we have no more nuts to crack.' 'yes,' said leonore with a sigh; 'but some day, hildegarde, surely _some_ day, the dear fairy will send for us again. don't you think so?' the end macmillan and co.'s books for the young. _by mrs. molesworth._ miss mouse and her boys. by mrs. molesworth. with illustrations by leslie brooke. crown 8vo, cloth elegant. 4s. 6d. _also illustrated by leslie brooke. globe 8vo. 2s. 6d. each._ the oriel window. sheila's mystery. the carved lions. mary. my new home. nurse heatherdale's story. the girls and i. _illustrated by walter crane. globe 8vo. 2s. 6d. each._ a christmas posy. "carrots," just a little boy. a christmas child. christmas-tree land. the cuckoo clock. four winds farm. grandmother dear. herr baby. little miss peggy. the rectory children. rosy. the tapestry room. tell me a story. two little waifs. "us": an old-fashioned story. children of the castle. * * * * * _new boys' book by the hon. j. w. fortescue._ the story of a red deer. by the hon. j. w. fortescue. pott 4to, cloth extra. 4s. 6d. _athenã�um._--"an admirable book of its kind." _standard._--"all who love nature and her creatures will read the story with delight." * * * * * _new boys' book by john bennett._ master skylark. a story of shakespere's time. by john bennett. with illustrations by reginald r. birch. extra crown 8vo. 6s. _daily chronicle._--"a delightful story." _athenã�um._--"is full of pathos and of charm, and is told in brave style." * * * * * _by the rev. w. j. foxell, m.a._ in a plain path. addresses to boys. by the rev. w. j. foxell, m.a. (lond.), minor canon of canterbury cathedral. globe 8vo. 3s. 6d. _rock._--"does, indeed, supply a want that has been long felt." * * * * * by mrs. craik. the fairy book. the best popular fairy stories selected and rendered anew. pott 8vo. 2s. 6d. net. the little lame prince and his travelling cloak. a parable for young and old. with twenty-four illustrations by j. m'l. ralston. new edition. globe 8vo. 2s. 6d. little sunshine's holiday: a picture from life. new edition. globe 8vo. 2s. 6d. our year: a child's book, in prose and verse. illustrated by clarence dobell. super royal 16mo. 2s. 6d. children's poetry. extra fcap. 8vo. 4s. 6d. songs of our youth. set to music. 4to. 5s. the adventures of a brownie, as told to my child. illustrated by mrs. allingham. new edition. globe 8vo. 2s. 6d. alice learmont: a fairy tale. with illustrations by james godwin. new edition revised by the author. globe 8vo. 2s. 6d. * * * * * the white rat, and some other stories. by lady barker. with illustrations by w. j. hennessy. globe 8vo. 2s. 6d. anyhow stories for children. by mrs. w. k. clifford, with illustrations by dorothy tennant. crown 8vo. 1s. 6d. sewed, 1s. the end of elfintown. by jane barlow, author of "irish idylls." with illustrations and decorations by laurence housman. 5s. madame tabby's establishment. by kari. illustrated by l. wain. crown 8vo. 4s. 6d. household stories, from the collection of the bros. grimm. translated from the german by lucy crane, and done into pictures by walter crane. crown 8vo. 6s. also with uncut edges, paper label. 6s. when i was a little girl, by the author of "st. olave's." globe 8vo. 2s. 6d. nine years old. by the author of "when i was a little girl," etc. globe 8vo. 2s. 6d. a storehouse of stories. edited by c. m. yonge. two vols. globe 8vo. 2s. 6d. each vol. agnes hopetoun's schools and holidays. by mrs. oliphant. globe 8vo. 2s. 6d. the story of a fellow-soldier. by frances awdry. (a life of bishop patteson for the young.) globe 8vo. 2s. 6d. macmillan and co., ltd., london. the sea lady [illustration: "am i doing it right?" asked the sea lady. (see page 150.)] the sea lady by h. g. wells _illustrated_ [illustration] new york d. appleton and company 1902 copyright, 1902 by d. appleton and company _published september, 1902_ copyright 1901 by h. g. wells contents chapter page i.--the coming of the sea lady 1 ii.--some first impressions 30 iii.--the episode of the various journalists 71 iv.--the quality of parker 90 v.--the absence and return of mr. harry chatteris 101 vi.--symptomatic 133 vii.--the crisis 204 viii.--moonshine triumphant 285 list of illustrations facing page "am i doing it right?" asked the sea lady _frontispiece_ "stuff that the public won't believe aren't facts" 81 she positively and quietly settled down with the buntings 90 a little group about the sea lady's bath chair 134 "why not?" 160 the waiter retires amazed 170 they seemed never to do anything but blow and sigh and rustle papers 180 adjusting the folds of his blanket to a greater dignity 216 the sea lady chapter the first. the coming of the sea lady i such previous landings of mermaids as have left a record, have all a flavour of doubt. even the very circumstantial account of that bruges sea lady, who was so clever at fancy work, gives occasion to the sceptic. i must confess that i was absolutely incredulous of such things until a year ago. but now, face to face with indisputable facts in my own immediate neighbourhood, and with my own second cousin melville (of seaton carew) as the chief witness to the story, i see these old legends in a very different light. yet so many people concerned themselves with the hushing up of this affair, that, but for my sedulous enquiries, i am certain it would have become as doubtful as those older legends in a couple of score of years. even now to many minds---the difficulties in the way of the hushing-up process were no doubt exceptionally great in this case, and that they did contrive to do so much, seems to show just how strong are the motives for secrecy in all such cases. there is certainly no remoteness nor obscurity about the scene of these events. they began upon the beach just east of sandgate castle, towards folkestone, and they ended on the beach near folkestone pier not two miles away. the beginning was in broad daylight on a bright blue day in august and in full sight of the windows of half a dozen houses. at first sight this alone is sufficient to make the popular want of information almost incredible. but of that you may think differently later. mrs. randolph bunting's two charming daughters were bathing at the time in company with their guest, miss mabel glendower. it is from the latter lady chiefly, and from mrs. bunting, that i have pieced together the precise circumstances of the sea lady's arrival. from miss glendower, the elder of two glendower girls, for all that she is a principal in almost all that follows, i have obtained, and have sought to obtain, no information whatever. there is the question of the lady's feelings--and in this case i gather they are of a peculiarly complex sort. quite naturally they would be. at any rate, the natural ruthlessness of the literary calling has failed me. i have not ventured to touch them.... the villa residences to the east of sandgate castle, you must understand, are particularly lucky in having gardens that run right down to the beach. there is no intervening esplanade or road or path such as cuts off ninety-nine out of the hundred of houses that face the sea. as you look down on them from the western end of the leas, you see them crowding the very margin. and as a great number of high groins stand out from the shore along this piece of coast, the beach is practically cut off and made private except at very low water, when people can get around the ends of the groins. these houses are consequently highly desirable during the bathing season, and it is the custom of many of their occupiers to let them furnished during the summer to persons of fashion and affluence. the randolph buntings were such persons--indisputably. it is true of course that they were not aristocrats, or indeed what an unpaid herald would freely call "gentle." they had no right to any sort of arms. but then, as mrs. bunting would sometimes remark, they made no pretence of that sort; they were quite free (as indeed everybody is nowadays) from snobbery. they were simple homely buntings--randolph buntings--"good people" as the saying is--of a widely diffused hampshire stock addicted to brewing, and whether a suitably remunerated herald could or could not have proved them "gentle" there can be no doubt that mrs. bunting was quite justified in taking in the _gentlewoman_, and that mr. bunting and fred were sedulous gentlemen, and that all their ways and thoughts were delicate and nice. and they had staying with them the two miss glendowers, to whom mrs. bunting had been something of a mother, ever since mrs. glendower's death. the two miss glendowers were half sisters, and gentle beyond dispute, a county family race that had only for a generation stooped to trade, and risen at once antæus-like, refreshed and enriched. the elder, adeline, was the rich one--the heiress, with the commercial blood in her veins. she was really very rich, and she had dark hair and grey eyes and serious views, and when her father died, which he did a little before her step-mother, she had only the later portion of her later youth left to her. she was nearly seven-and-twenty. she had sacrificed her earlier youth to her father's infirmity of temper in a way that had always reminded her of the girlhood of elizabeth barrett browning. but after his departure for a sphere where his temper has no doubt a wider scope--for what is this world for if it is not for the formation of character?--she had come out strongly. it became evident she had always had a mind, and a very active and capable one, an accumulated fund of energy and much ambition. she had bloomed into a clear and critical socialism, and she had blossomed at public meetings; and now she was engaged to that really very brilliant and promising but rather extravagant and romantic person, harry chatteris, the nephew of an earl and the hero of a scandal, and quite a possible liberal candidate for the hythe division of kent. at least this last matter was under discussion and he was about, and miss glendower liked to feel she was supporting him by being about too, and that was chiefly why the buntings had taken a house in sandgate for the summer. sometimes he would come and stay a night or so with them, sometimes he would be off upon affairs, for he was known to be a very versatile, brilliant, first-class political young man--and hythe very lucky to have a bid for him, all things considered. and fred bunting was engaged to miss glendower's less distinguished, much less wealthy, seventeen-year old and possibly altogether more ordinary half-sister, mabel glendower, who had discerned long since when they were at school together that it wasn't any good trying to be clear when adeline was about. the buntings did not bathe "mixed," a thing indeed that was still only very doubtfully decent in 1898, but mr. randolph bunting and his son fred came down to the beach with them frankly instead of hiding away or going for a walk according to the older fashion. (this, notwithstanding that miss mabel glendower, fred's _fiancée_ to boot, was of the bathing party.) they formed a little procession down under the evergreen oaks in the garden and down the ladder and so to the sea's margin. mrs. bunting went first, looking as it were for peeping tom with her glasses, and miss glendower, who never bathed because it made her feel undignified, went with her--wearing one of those simple, costly "art" morning costumes socialists affect. behind this protecting van came, one by one, the three girls, in their beautiful parisian bathing dresses and headdresses--though these were of course completely muffled up in huge hooded gowns of towelling--and wearing of course stockings and shoes--they bathed in stockings and shoes. then came mrs. bunting's maid and the second housemaid and the maid the glendower girls had brought, carrying towels, and then at a little interval the two men carrying ropes and things. (mrs. bunting always put a rope around each of her daughters before ever they put a foot in the water and held it until they were safely out again. but mabel glendower would not have a rope.) where the garden ends and the beach begins miss glendower turned aside and sat down on the green iron seat under the evergreen oak, and having found her place in "sir george tressady"--a book of which she was naturally enough at that time inordinately fond--sat watching the others go on down the beach. there they were a very bright and very pleasant group of prosperous animated people upon the sunlit beach, and beyond them in streaks of grey and purple, and altogether calm save for a pattern of dainty little wavelets, was that ancient mother of surprises, the sea. as soon as they reached the high-water mark where it is no longer indecent to be clad merely in a bathing dress, each of the young ladies handed her attendant her wrap, and after a little fun and laughter mrs. bunting looked carefully to see if there were any jelly fish, and then they went in. and after a minute or so, it seems betty, the elder miss bunting, stopped splashing and looked, and then they all looked, and there, about thirty yards away was the sea lady's head, as if she were swimming back to land. naturally they concluded that she must be a neighbour from one of the adjacent houses. they were a little surprised not to have noticed her going down into the water, but beyond that her apparition had no shadow of wonder for them. they made the furtive penetrating observations usual in such cases. they could see that she was swimming very gracefully and that she had a lovely face and very beautiful arms, but they could not see her wonderful golden hair because all that was hidden in a fashionable phrygian bathing cap, picked up--as she afterwards admitted to my second cousin--some nights before upon a norman _plage_. nor could they see her lovely shoulders because of the red costume she wore. they were just on the point of feeling their inspection had reached the limit of really nice manners and mabel was pretending to go on splashing again and saying to betty, "she's wearing a red dress. i wish i could see--" when something very terrible happened. the swimmer gave a queer sort of flop in the water, threw up her arms and--vanished! it was the sort of thing that seems for an instant to freeze everybody, just one of those things that everyone has read of and imagined and very few people have seen. for a space no one did anything. one, two, three seconds passed and then for an instant a bare arm flashed in the air and vanished again. mabel tells me she was quite paralysed with horror, she did nothing all the time, but the two miss buntings, recovering a little, screamed out, "oh, she's drowning!" and hastened to get out of the sea at once, a proceeding accelerated by mrs. bunting, who with great presence of mind pulled at the ropes with all her weight and turned about and continued to pull long after they were many yards from the water's edge and indeed cowering in a heap at the foot of the sea wall. miss glendower became aware of a crisis and descended the steps, "sir george tressady" in one hand and the other shading her eyes, crying in her clear resolute voice, "she must be saved!" the maids of course were screaming--as became them--but the two men appear to have acted with the greatest presence of mind. "fred, nexdoors ledder!" said mr. randolph bunting--for the next-door neighbour instead of having convenient stone steps had a high wall and a long wooden ladder, and it had often been pointed out by mr. bunting if ever an accident should happen to anyone there was _that_! in a moment it seems they had both flung off jacket and vest, collar, tie and shoes, and were running the neighbour's ladder out into the water. "where did she go, ded?" said fred. "right out hea!" said mr. bunting, and to confirm his word there flashed again an arm and "something dark"--something which in the light of all that subsequently happened i am inclined to suppose was an unintentional exposure of the lady's tail. neither of the two gentlemen are expert swimmers--indeed so far as i can gather, mr. bunting in the excitement of the occasion forgot almost everything he had ever known of swimming--but they waded out valiantly one on each side of the ladder, thrust it out before them and committed themselves to the deep, in a manner casting no discredit upon our nation and race. yet on the whole i think it is a matter for general congratulation that they were not engaged in the rescue of a genuinely drowning person. at the time of my enquiries whatever soreness of argument that may once have obtained between them had passed, and it is fairly clear that while fred bunting was engaged in swimming hard against the long side of the ladder and so causing it to rotate slowly on its axis, mr. bunting had already swallowed a very considerable amount of sea-water and was kicking fred in the chest with aimless vigour. this he did, as he explains, "to get my legs down, you know. something about that ladder, you know, and they _would_ go up!" and then quite unexpectedly the sea lady appeared beside them. one lovely arm supported mr. bunting about the waist and the other was over the ladder. she did not appear at all pale or frightened or out of breath, fred told me when i cross-examined him, though at the time he was too violently excited to note a detail of that sort. indeed she smiled and spoke in an easy pleasant voice. "cramp," she said, "i have cramp." both the men were convinced of that. mr. bunting was on the point of telling her to hold tight and she would be quite safe, when a little wave went almost entirely into his mouth and reduced him to wild splutterings. "_we'll_ get you in," said fred, or something of that sort, and so they all hung, bobbing in the water to the tune of mr. bunting's trouble. they seem to have rocked so for some time. fred says the sea lady looked calm but a little puzzled and that she seemed to measure the distance shoreward. "you _mean_ to save me?" she asked him. he was trying to think what could be done before his father drowned. "we're saving you now," he said. "you'll take me ashore?" as she seemed so cool he thought he would explain his plan of operations, "trying to get--end of ladder--kick with my legs. only a few yards out of our depth--if we could only----" "minute--get my breath--moufu' sea-water," said mr. bunting. _splash!_ wuff!... and then it seemed to fred that a little miracle happened. there was a swirl of the water like the swirl about a screw propeller, and he gripped the sea lady and the ladder just in time, as it seemed to him, to prevent his being washed far out into the channel. his father vanished from his sight with an expression of astonishment just forming on his face and reappeared beside him, so far as back and legs are concerned, holding on to the ladder with a sort of death grip. and then behold! they had shifted a dozen yards inshore, and they were in less than five feet of water and fred could feel the ground. at its touch his amazement and dismay immediately gave way to the purest heroism. he thrust ladder and sea lady before him, abandoned the ladder and his now quite disordered parent, caught her tightly in his arms, and bore her up out of the water. the young ladies cried "saved!" the maids cried "saved!" distant voices echoed "saved, hooray!" everybody in fact cried "saved!" except mrs. bunting, who was, she says, under the impression that mr. bunting was in a fit, and mr. bunting, who seems to have been under an impression that all those laws of nature by which, under providence, we are permitted to float and swim, were in suspense and that the best thing to do was to kick very hard and fast until the end should come. but in a dozen seconds or so his head was up again and his feet were on the ground and he was making whale and walrus noises, and noises like a horse and like an angry cat and like sawing, and was wiping the water from his eyes; and mrs. bunting (except that now and then she really _had_ to turn and say "_ran_dolph!") could give her attention to the beautiful burthen that clung about her son. and it is a curious thing that the sea lady was at least a minute out of the water before anyone discovered that she was in any way different from--other ladies. i suppose they were all crowding close to her and looking at her beautiful face, or perhaps they imagined that she was wearing some indiscreet but novel form of dark riding habit or something of that sort. anyhow not one of them noticed it, although it must have been before their eyes as plain as day. certainly it must have blended with the costume. and there they stood, imagining that fred had rescued a lovely lady of indisputable fashion, who had been bathing from some neighbouring house, and wondering why on earth there was nobody on the beach to claim her. and she clung to fred and, as miss mabel glendower subsequently remarked in the course of conversation with him, fred clung to her. "i had cramp," said the sea lady, with her lips against fred's cheek and one eye on mrs. bunting. "i am sure it was cramp.... i've got it still." "i don't see anybody--" began mrs. bunting. "please carry me in," said the sea lady, closing her eyes as if she were ill--though her cheek was flushed and warm. "carry me in." "where?" gasped fred. "carry me into the house," she whispered to him. "which house?" mrs. bunting came nearer. "_your_ house," said the sea lady, and shut her eyes for good and became oblivious to all further remarks. "she-but i don't understand--" said mrs. bunting, addressing everybody.... and then it was they saw it. nettie, the younger miss bunting, saw it first. she pointed, she says, before she could find words to speak. then they all saw it! miss glendower, i believe, was the person who was last to see it. at any rate it would have been like her if she had been. "mother," said nettie, giving words to the general horror. "_mother!_ she has a _tail_!" and then the three maids and mabel glendower screamed one after the other. "look!" they cried. "a tail!" "of all--" said mrs. bunting, and words failed her. "_oh!_" said miss glendower, and put her hand to her heart. and then one of the maids gave it a name. "it's a mermaid!" screamed the maid, and then everyone screamed, "it's a mermaid." except the mermaid herself; she remained quite passive, pretending to be insensible partly on fred's shoulder and altogether in his arms. ii that, you know, is the tableau so far as i have been able to piece it together again. you must imagine this little knot of people upon the beach, and mr. bunting, i figure, a little apart, just wading out of the water and very wet and incredulous and half drowned. and the neighbour's ladder was drifting quietly out to sea. of course it was one of those positions that have an air of being conspicuous. indeed it was conspicuous. it was some way below high water and the group stood out perhaps thirty yards down the beach. nobody, as mrs. bunting told my cousin melville, knew a bit _what_ to do and they all had even an exaggerated share of the national hatred of being seen in a puzzle. the mermaid seemed content to remain a beautiful problem clinging to fred, and by all accounts she was a reasonable burthen for a man. it seems that the very large family of people who were stopping at the house called koot hoomi had appeared in force, and they were all staring and gesticulating. they were just the sort of people the buntings did not want to know--tradespeople very probably. presently one of the men--the particularly vulgar man who used to shoot at the gulls--began putting down their ladder as if he intended to offer advice, and mrs. bunting also became aware of the black glare of the field glasses of a still more horrid man to the west. moreover the popular author who lived next door, an irascible dark square-headed little man in spectacles, suddenly turned up and began bawling from his inaccessible wall top something foolish about his ladder. nobody thought of his silly ladder or took any trouble about it, naturally. he was quite stupidly excited. to judge by his tone and gestures he was using dreadful language and seemed disposed every moment to jump down to the beach and come to them. and then to crown the situation, over the westward groin appeared low excursionists! first of all their heads came, and then their remarks. then they began to clamber the breakwater with joyful shouts. "pip, pip," said the low excursionists as they climbed--it was the year of "pip, pip"--and, "what ho she bumps!" and then less generally, "what's up _'ere_?" and the voices of other low excursionists still invisible answered, "pip, pip." it was evidently a large party. "anything wrong?" shouted one of the low excursionists at a venture. "my _dear_!" said mrs. bunting to mabel, "what _are_ we to do?" and in her description of the affair to my cousin melville she used always to make that the _clou_ of the story. "my dear! what are we to do?" i believe that in her desperation she even glanced at the water. but of course to have put the mermaid back then would have involved the most terrible explanations.... it was evident there was only one thing to be done. mrs. bunting said as much. "the only thing," said she, "is to carry her indoors." and carry her indoors they did!... one can figure the little procession. in front fred, wet and astonished but still clinging and clung to, and altogether too out of breath for words. and in his arms the sea lady. she had a beautiful figure, i understand, until that horrible tail began (and the fin of it, mrs. bunting told my cousin in a whispered confidence, went up and down and with pointed corners for all the world like a mackerel's). it flopped and dripped along the path--i imagine. she was wearing a very nice and very long-skirted dress of red material trimmed with coarse white lace, and she had, mabel told me, a _gilet_, though that would scarcely show as they went up the garden. and that phrygian cap hid all her golden hair and showed the white, low, level forehead over her sea-blue eyes. from all that followed, i imagine her at the moment scanning the veranda and windows of the house with a certain eagerness of scrutiny. behind this staggering group of two i believe mrs. bunting came. then mr. bunting. dreadfully wet and broken down mr. bunting must have been by then, and from one or two things i have noticed since, i can't help imagining him as pursuing his wife with, "of course, my dear, _i_ couldn't tell, you know!" and then, in a dismayed yet curious bunch, the girls in their wraps of towelling and the maids carrying the ropes and things and, as if inadvertently, as became them, most of mr. and fred bunting's clothes. and then miss glendower, for once at least in no sort of pose whatever, clutching "sir george tressady" and perplexed and disturbed beyond measure. and then, as it were pursuing them all, "pip, pip," and the hat and raised eyebrows of a low excursionist still anxious to know "what's up?" from the garden end. so it was, or at least in some such way, and to the accompaniment of the wildest ravings about some ladder or other heard all too distinctly over the garden wall--("overdressed snobbs take my _rare old english adjective_ ladder...!")--that they carried the sea lady (who appeared serenely insensible to everything) up through the house and laid her down upon the couch in mrs. bunting's room. and just as miss glendower was suggesting that the very best thing they could do would be to send for a doctor, the sea lady with a beautiful naturalness sighed and came to. chapter the second some first impressions i there with as much verisimilitude as i can give it, is how the folkestone mermaid really came to land. there can be no doubt that the whole affair was a deliberately planned intrusion upon her part. she never had cramp, she couldn't have cramp, and as for drowning, nobody was near drowning for a moment except mr. bunting, whose valuable life she very nearly sacrificed at the outset of her adventure. and her next proceeding was to demand an interview with mrs. bunting and to presume upon her youthful and glowing appearance to gain the support, sympathy and assistance of that good-hearted lady (who as a matter of fact was a thing of yesterday, a mere chicken in comparison with her own immemorial years) in her extraordinary raid upon humanity. her treatment of mrs. bunting would be incredible if we did not know that, in spite of many disadvantages, the sea lady was an extremely well read person. she admitted as much in several later conversations with my cousin melville. for a time there was a friendly intimacy--so melville always preferred to present it--between these two, and my cousin, who has a fairly considerable amount of curiosity, learnt many very interesting details about the life "out there" or "down there"--for the sea lady used either expression. at first the sea lady was exceedingly reticent under the gentle insistence of his curiosity, but after a time, i gather, she gave way to bursts of cheerful confidence. "it is clear," says my cousin, "that the old ideas of the submarine life as a sort of perpetual game of 'who-hoop' through groves of coral, diversified by moonlight hair-combings on rocky strands, need very extensive modification." in this matter of literature, for example, they have practically all that we have, and unlimited leisure to read it in. melville is very insistent upon and rather envious of that unlimited leisure. a picture of a mermaid swinging in a hammock of woven seaweed, with what bishops call a "latter-day" novel in one hand and a sixteen candle-power phosphorescent fish in the other, may jar upon one's preconceptions, but it is certainly far more in accordance with the picture of the abyss she printed on his mind. everywhere change works her will on things. everywhere, and even among the immortals, modernity spreads. even on olympus i suppose there is a progressive party and a new phaeton agitating to supersede the horses of his father by some solar motor of his own. i suggested as much to melville and he said "horrible! horrible!" and stared hard at my study fire. dear old melville! she gave him no end of facts about deep sea reading. of course they do not print books "out there," for the printer's ink under water would not so much run as fly--she made that very plain; but in one way or another nearly the whole of terrestrial literature, says melville, has come to them. "we know," she said. they form indeed a distinct reading public, and additions to their vast submerged library that circulates forever with the tides, are now pretty systematically sought. the sources are various and in some cases a little odd. many books have been found in sunken ships. "indeed!" said melville. there is always a dropping and blowing overboard of novels and magazines from most passenger-carrying vessels--sometimes, but these are not as a rule valuable additions--a deliberate shying overboard. but sometimes books of an exceptional sort are thrown over when they are quite finished. (melville is a dainty irritable reader and no doubt he understood that.) from the sea beaches of holiday resorts, moreover, the lighter sorts of literature are occasionally getting blown out to sea. and so soon as the booms of our great popular novelists are over, melville assured me, the libraries find it convenient to cast such surplus copies of their current works as the hospitals and prisons cannot take, below high-water mark. "that's not generally known," said i. "_they_ know it," said melville. in other ways the beaches yield. young couples who "begin to sit heapy," the sea lady told my cousin, as often as not will leave excellent modern fiction behind them, when at last they return to their proper place. there is a particularly fine collection of english work, it seems, in the deep water of the english channel; practically the whole of the tauchnitz library is there, thrown overboard at the last moment by conscientious or timid travellers returning from the continent, and there was for a time a similar source of supply of american reprints in the mersey, but that has fallen off in recent years. and the deep sea mission for fishermen has now for some years been raining down tracts and giving a particularly elevated tone of thought to the extensive shallows of the north sea. the sea lady was very precise on these points. when one considers the conditions of its accumulation, one is not surprised to hear that the element of fiction is as dominant in this deep sea library as it is upon the counters of messrs. mudie; but my cousin learnt that the various illustrated magazines, and particularly the fashion papers, are valued even more highly than novels, are looked for far more eagerly and perused with envious emotion. indeed on that point my cousin got a sudden glimpse of one of the motives that had brought this daring young lady into the air. he made some sort of suggestion. "we should have taken to dressing long ago," she said, and added, with a vague quality of laughter in her tone, "it isn't that we're unfeminine, mr. melville. only--as i was explaining to mrs. bunting, one must consider one's circumstances--how _can_ one _hope_ to keep anything nice under water? imagine lace!" "soaked!" said my cousin melville. "drenched!" said the sea lady. "ruined!" said my cousin melville. "and then you know," said the sea lady very gravely, "one's hair!" "of course," said melville. "why!--you can never get it _dry_!" "that's precisely it," said she. my cousin melville had a new light on an old topic. "and that's why--in the old time----?" "exactly!" she cried, "exactly! before there were so many excursionists and sailors and low people about, one came out, one sat and brushed it in the sun. and then of course it really _was_ possible to do it up. but now----" she made a petulant gesture and looked gravely at melville, biting her lip the while. my cousin made a sympathetic noise. "the horrid modern spirit," he said--almost automatically.... but though fiction and fashion appear to be so regrettably dominant in the nourishment of the mer-mind, it must not be supposed that the most serious side of our reading never reaches the bottom of the sea. there was, for example, a case quite recently, the sea lady said, of the captain of a sailing ship whose mind had become unhinged by the huckstering uproar of the _times_ and _daily mail_, and who had not only bought a second-hand copy of the _times_ reprint of the encyclopædia britannica, but also that dense collection of literary snacks and samples, that all-literature sausage which has been compressed under the weighty editing of doctor richard garnett. it has long been notorious that even the greatest minds of the past were far too copious and confusing in their--as the word goes--lubrications. doctor garnett, it is alleged, has seized the gist and presented it so compactly that almost any business man now may take hold of it without hindrance to his more serious occupations. the unfortunate and misguided seaman seems to have carried the entire collection aboard with him, with the pretty evident intention of coming to land in sydney the wisest man alive--a hindoo-minded thing to do. the result might have been anticipated. the mass shifted in the night, threw the whole weight of the science of the middle nineteenth century and the literature of all time, in a virulently concentrated state, on one side of his little vessel and capsized it instantly.... the ship, the sea lady said, dropped into the abyss as if it were loaded with lead, and its crew and other movables did not follow it down until much later in the day. the captain was the first to arrive, said the sea lady, and it is a curious fact, due probably to some preliminary dippings into his purchase, that he came head first, instead of feet down and limbs expanded in the customary way.... however, such exceptional windfalls avail little against the rain of light literature that is constantly going on. the novel and the newspaper remain the world's reading even at the bottom of the sea. as subsequent events would seem to show, it must have been from the common latter-day novel and the newspaper that the sea lady derived her ideas of human life and sentiment and the inspiration of her visit. and if at times she seemed to underestimate the nobler tendencies of the human spirit, if at times she seemed disposed to treat adeline glendower and many of the deeper things of life with a certain sceptical levity, if she did at last indisputably subordinate reason and right feeling to passion, it is only just to her, and to those deeper issues, that we should ascribe her aberrations to their proper cause.... ii my cousin melville, i was saying, did at one time or another get a vague, a very vague conception of what that deep-sea world was like. but whether his conception has any quality of truth in it is more than i dare say. he gives me an impression of a very strange world indeed, a green luminous fluidity in which these beings float, a world lit by great shining monsters that drift athwart it, and by waving forests of nebulous luminosity amidst which the little fishes drift like netted stars. it is a world with neither sitting, nor standing, nor going, nor coming, through which its inhabitants float and drift as one floats and drifts in dreams. and the way they live there! "my dear man!" said melville, "it must be like a painted ceiling!..." i do not even feel certain that it is in the sea particularly that this world of the sea lady is to be found. but about those saturated books and drowned scraps of paper, you say? things are not always what they seem, and she told him all of that, we must reflect, one laughing afternoon. she could appear, at times, he says, as real as you or i, and again came mystery all about her. there were times when it seemed to him you might have hurt her or killed her as you can hurt and kill anyone--with a penknife for example--and there were times when it seemed to him you could have destroyed the whole material universe and left her smiling still. but of this ambiguous element in the lady, more is to be told later. there are wider seas than ever keel sailed upon, and deeps that no lead of human casting will ever plumb. when it is all summed up, i have to admit, i do not know, i cannot tell. i fall back upon melville and my poor array of collected facts. at first there was amazingly little strangeness about her for any who had to deal with her. there she was, palpably solid and material, a lady out of the sea. this modern world is a world where the wonderful is utterly commonplace. we are bred to show a quiet freedom from amazement, and why should we boggle at material mermaids, with dewars solidifying all sorts of impalpable things and marconi waves spreading everywhere? to the buntings she was as matter of fact, as much a matter of authentic and reasonable motives and of sound solid sentimentality, as everything else in the bunting world. so she was for them in the beginning, and so up to this day with them her memory remains. iii the way in which the sea lady talked to mrs. bunting on that memorable morning, when she lay all wet and still visibly fishy on the couch in mrs. bunting's dressing-room, i am also able to give with some little fulness, because mrs. bunting repeated it all several times, acting the more dramatic speeches in it, to my cousin melville in several of those good long talks that both of them in those happy days--and particularly mrs. bunting--always enjoyed so much. and with her very first speech, it seems, the sea lady took her line straight to mrs. bunting's generous managing heart. she sat up on the couch, drew the antimacassar modestly over her deformity, and sometimes looking sweetly down and sometimes openly and trustfully into mrs. bunting's face, and speaking in a soft clear grammatical manner that stamped her at once as no mere mermaid but a finished fine sea lady, she "made a clean breast of it," as mrs. bunting said, and "fully and frankly" placed herself in mrs. bunting's hands. "mrs. bunting," said mrs. bunting to my cousin melville, in a dramatic rendering of the sea lady's manner, "do permit me to apologise for this intrusion, for i know it _is_ an intrusion. but indeed it has almost been _forced_ upon me, and if you will only listen to my story, mrs. bunting, i think you will find--well, if not a complete excuse for me--for i can understand how exacting your standards must be--at any rate _some_ excuse for what i have done--for what i _must_ call, mrs. bunting, my deceitful conduct towards you. deceitful it was, mrs. bunting, for i never had cramp-but then, mrs. bunting"--and here mrs. bunting would insert a long impressive pause--"i never had a mother!" "and then and there," said mrs. bunting, when she told the story to my cousin melville, "the poor child burst into tears and confessed she had been born ages and ages ago in some dreadful miraculous way in some terrible place near cyprus, and had no more right to a surname-well, _there_--!" said mrs. bunting, telling the story to my cousin melville and making the characteristic gesture with which she always passed over and disowned any indelicacy to which her thoughts might have tended. "and all the while speaking with such a nice accent and moving in such a ladylike way!" "of course," said my cousin melville, "there are classes of people in whom one excuses-one must weigh----" "precisely," said mrs. bunting. "and you see it seems she deliberately chose _me_ as the very sort of person she had always wanted to appeal to. it wasn't as if she came to us haphazard--she picked us out. she had been swimming round the coast watching people day after day, she said, for quite a long time, and she said when she saw my face, watching the girls bathe--you know how funny girls are," said mrs. bunting, with a little deprecatory laugh, and all the while with a moisture of emotion in her kindly eyes. "she took quite a violent fancy to me from the very first." "i can _quite_ believe _that_, at any rate," said my cousin melville with unction. i know he did, although he always leaves it out of the story when he tells it to me. but then he forgets that i have had the occasional privilege of making a third party in these good long talks. "you know it's most extraordinary and exactly like the german story," said mrs. bunting. "oom--what is it?" "undine?" "exactly--yes. and it really seems these poor creatures are immortal, mr. melville--at least within limits--creatures born of the elements and resolved into the elements again--and just as it is in the story--there's always a something--they have no souls! no souls at all! nothing! and the poor child feels it. she feels it dreadfully. but in order to _get_ souls, mr. melville, you know they have to come into the world of men. at least so they believe down there. and so she has come to folkestone. to get a soul. of course that's her great object, mr. melville, but she's not at all fanatical or silly about it. any more than _we_ are. of course _we_--people who feel deeply----" "of course," said my cousin melville, with, i know, a momentary expression of profound gravity, drooping eyelids and a hushed voice. for my cousin does a good deal with his soul, one way and another. "and she feels that if she comes to earth at all," said mrs. bunting, "she _must_ come among _nice_ people and in a nice way. one can understand her feeling like that. but imagine her difficulties! to be a mere cause of public excitement, and silly paragraphs in the silly season, to be made a sort of show of, in fact--she doesn't want _any_ of it," added mrs. bunting, with the emphasis of both hands. "what _does_ she want?" asked my cousin melville. "she wants to be treated exactly like a human being, to _be_ a human being, just like you or me. and she asks to stay with us, to be one of our family, and to learn how we live. she has asked me to advise her what books to read that are really nice, and where she can get a dress-maker, and how she can find a clergyman to sit under who would really be likely to understand her case, and everything. she wants me to advise her about it all. she wants to put herself altogether in my hands. and she asked it all so nicely and sweetly. she wants me to advise her about it all." "um," said my cousin melville. "you should have heard her!" cried mrs. bunting. "practically it's another daughter," he reflected. "yes," said mrs. bunting, "and even that did not frighten me. she admitted as much." "still----" he took a step. "she has means?" he inquired abruptly. "ample. she told me there was a box. she said it was moored at the end of a groin, and accordingly dear randolph watched all through luncheon, and afterwards, when they could wade out and reach the end of the rope that tied it, he and fred pulled it in and helped fitch and the coachman carry it up. it's a curious little box for a lady to have, well made, of course, but of wood, with a ship painted on the top and the name of 'tom' cut in it roughly with a knife; but, as she says, leather simply will _not_ last down there, and one has to put up with what one can get; and the great thing is it's _full_, perfectly full, of gold coins and things. yes, gold--and diamonds, mr. melville. you know randolph understands something-yes, well he says that box--oh! i couldn't tell you _how_ much it isn't worth! and all the gold things with just a sort of faint reddy touch.... but anyhow, she is rich, as well as charming and beautiful. and really you know, mr. melville, altogether-well, i'm going to help her, just as much as ever i can. practically, she's to be our paying guest. as you know--it's no great secret between _us_--adeline-yes.... she'll be the same. and i shall bring her out and introduce her to people and so forth. it will be a great help. and for everyone except just a few intimate friends, she is to be just a human being who happens to be an invalid--temporarily an invalid--and we are going to engage a good, trustworthy woman--the sort of woman who isn't astonished at anything, you know--they're a little expensive but they're to be got even nowadays--who will be her maid--and make her dresses, her skirts at any rate--and we shall dress her in long skirts--and throw something over it, you know----" "over----?" "the tail, you know." my cousin melville said "precisely!" with his head and eyebrows. but that was the point that hadn't been clear to him so far, and it took his breath away. positively--a tail! all sorts of incorrect theories went by the board. somehow he felt this was a topic not to be too urgently pursued. but he and mrs. bunting were old friends. "and she really has ... a tail?" he asked. "like the tail of a big mackerel," said mrs. bunting, and he asked no more. "it's a most extraordinary situation," he said. "but what else _could_ i do?" asked mrs. bunting. "of course the thing's a tremendous experiment," said my cousin melville, and repeated quite inadvertently, "_a tail!_" clear and vivid before his eyes, obstructing absolutely the advance of his thoughts, were the shiny clear lines, the oily black, the green and purple and silver, and the easy expansiveness of a mackerel's termination. "but really, you know," said my cousin melville, protesting in the name of reason and the nineteenth century--"a tail!" "i patted it," said mrs. bunting. iv certain supplementary aspects of the sea lady's first conversation with mrs. bunting i got from that lady herself afterwards. the sea lady had made one queer mistake. "your four charming daughters," she said, "and your two sons." "my dear!" cried mrs. bunting--they had got through their preliminaries by then--"i've only two daughters and one son!" "the young man who carried--who rescued me?" "yes. and the other two girls are friends, you know, visitors who are staying with me. on land one has visitors----" "i know. so i made a mistake?" "oh yes." "and the other young man?" "you don't mean mr. bunting." "who is mr. bunting?" "the other gentleman who----" "_no!_" "there was no one----" "but several mornings ago?" "could it have been mr. melville?... _i_ know! you mean mr. chatteris! i remember, he came down with us one morning. a tall young man with fair--rather curlyish you might say--hair, wasn't it? and a rather thoughtful face. he was dressed all in white linen and he sat on the beach." "i fancy he did," said the sea lady. "he's not my son. he's--he's a friend. he's engaged to adeline, to the elder miss glendower. he was stopping here for a night or so. i daresay he'll come again on his way back from paris. dear me! fancy _my_ having a son like that!" the sea lady was not quite prompt in replying. "what a stupid mistake for me to make!" she said slowly; and then with more animation, "of course, now i think, he's much too old to be your son!" "well, he's thirty-two!" said mrs. bunting with a smile. "it's preposterous." "i won't say _that_." "but i saw him only at a distance, you know," said the sea lady; and then, "and so he is engaged to miss glendower? and miss glendower----?" "is the young lady in the purple robe who----" "who carried a book?" "yes," said mrs. bunting, "that's the one. they've been engaged three months." "dear me!" said the sea lady. "she seemed-and is he very much in love with her?" "of course," said mrs. bunting. "_very_ much?" "oh--of _course_. if he wasn't, he wouldn't----" "of course," said the sea lady thoughtfully. "and it's such an excellent match in every way. adeline's just in the very position to help him----" and mrs. bunting it would seem briefly but clearly supplied an indication of the precise position of mr. chatteris, not omitting even that he was the nephew of an earl, as indeed why should she omit it?--and the splendid prospects of his alliance with miss glendower's plebeian but extensive wealth. the sea lady listened gravely. "he is young, he is able, he may still be anything--anything. and she is so earnest, so clever herself--always reading. she even reads blue books--government blue books i mean--dreadful statistical schedulely things. and the condition of the poor and all those things. she knows more about the condition of the poor than any one i've ever met; what they earn and what they eat, and how many of them live in a room. so dreadfully crowded, you know--perfectly shocking.... she is just the helper he needs. so dignified--so capable of giving political parties and influencing people, so earnest! and you know she can talk to workmen and take an interest in trades unions, and in quite astonishing things. _i_ always think she's just _marcella_ come to life." and from that the good lady embarked upon an illustrative but involved anecdote of miss glendower's marvellous blue-bookishness.... "he'll come here again soon?" the sea lady asked quite carelessly in the midst of it. the query was carried away and lost in the anecdote, so that later the sea lady repeated her question even more carelessly. but mrs. bunting did not know whether the sea lady sighed at all or not. she thinks not. she was so busy telling her all about everything that i don't think she troubled very much to see how her information was received. what mind she had left over from her own discourse was probably centred on the tail. v even to mrs. bunting's senses--she is one of those persons who take everything (except of course impertinence or impropriety) quite calmly--it must, i think, have been a little astonishing to find herself sitting in her boudoir, politely taking tea with a real live legendary creature. they were having tea in the boudoir, because of callers, and quite quietly because, in spite of the sea lady's smiling assurances, mrs. bunting would have it she _must_ be tired and unequal to the exertions of social intercourse. "after _such_ a journey," said mrs. bunting. there were just the three, adeline glendower being the third; and fred and the three other girls, i understand, hung about in a general sort of way up and down the staircase (to the great annoyance of the servants who were thus kept out of it altogether) confirming one another's views of the tail, arguing on the theory of mermaids, revisiting the garden and beach and trying to invent an excuse for seeing the invalid again. they were forbidden to intrude and pledged to secrecy by mrs. bunting, and they must have been as altogether unsettled and miserable as young people can be. for a time they played croquet in a half-hearted way, each no doubt with an eye on the boudoir window. (and as for mr. bunting, he was in bed.) i gather that the three ladies sat and talked as any three ladies all quite resolved to be pleasant to one another would talk. mrs. bunting and miss glendower were far too well trained in the observances of good society (which is as every one knows, even the best of it now, extremely mixed) to make too searching enquiries into the sea lady's status and way of life or precisely where she lived when she was at home, or whom she knew or didn't know. though in their several ways they wanted to know badly enough. the sea lady volunteered no information, contenting herself with an entertaining superficiality of touch and go, in the most ladylike way. she professed herself greatly delighted with the sensation of being in air and superficially quite dry, and was particularly charmed with tea. "and don't you have _tea_?" cried miss glendower, startled. "how can we?" "but do you really mean----?" "i've never tasted tea before. how do you think we can boil a kettle?" "what a strange--what a wonderful world it must be!" cried adeline. and mrs. bunting said: "i can hardly _imagine_ it without tea. it's worse than-i mean it reminds me--of abroad." mrs. bunting was in the act of refilling the sea lady's cup. "i suppose," she said suddenly, "as you're not used to it-it won't affect your diges--" she glanced at adeline and hesitated. "but it's china tea." and she filled the cup. "it's an inconceivable world to me," said adeline. "quite." her dark eyes rested thoughtfully on the sea lady for a space. "inconceivable," she repeated, for, in that unaccountable way in which a whisper will attract attention that a turmoil fails to arouse, the tea had opened her eyes far more than the tail. the sea lady looked at her with sudden frankness. "and think how wonderful all this must seem to _me_!" she remarked. but adeline's imagination was aroused for the moment and she was not to be put aside by the sea lady's terrestrial impressions. she pierced--for a moment or so--the ladylike serenity, the assumption of a terrestrial fashion of mind that was imposing so successfully upon mrs. bunting. "it must be," she said, "the strangest world." and she stopped invitingly.... she could not go beyond that and the sea lady would not help her. there was a pause, a silent eager search for topics. apropos of the niphetos roses on the table they talked of flowers and miss glendower ventured: "you have your anemones too! how beautiful they must be amidst the rocks!" and the sea lady said they were very pretty--especially the cultivated sorts.... "and the fishes," said mrs. bunting. "how wonderful it must be to see the fishes!" "some of them," volunteered the sea lady, "will come and feed out of one's hand." mrs. bunting made a little coo of approval. she was reminded of chrysanthemum shows and the outside of the royal academy exhibition and she was one of those people to whom only the familiar is really satisfying. she had a momentary vision of the abyss as a sort of diverticulum of piccadilly and the temple, a place unexpectedly rational and comfortable. there was a kink for a time about a little matter of illumination, but it recurred to mrs. bunting only long after. the sea lady had turned from miss glendower's interrogative gravity of expression to the sunlight. "the sunlight seems so golden here," said the sea lady. "is it always golden?" "you have that beautiful greenery-blue shimmer i suppose," said miss glendower, "that one catches sometimes ever so faintly in aquaria----" "one lives deeper than that," said the sea lady. "everything is phosphorescent, you know, a mile or so down, and it's like--i hardly know. as towns look at night--only brighter. like piers and things like that." "really!" said mrs. bunting, with the strand after the theatres in her head. "quite bright?" "oh, quite," said the sea lady. "but--" struggled adeline, "is it never put out?" "it's so different," said the sea lady. "that's why it is so interesting," said adeline. "there are no nights and days, you know. no time nor anything of that sort." "now that's very queer," said mrs. bunting with miss glendower's teacup in her hand--they were both drinking quite a lot of tea absent-mindedly, in their interest in the sea lady. "but how do you tell when it's sunday?" "we don't--" began the sea lady. "at least not exactly--" and then--"of course one hears the beautiful hymns that are sung on the passenger ships." "of course!" said mrs. bunting, having sung so in her youth and quite forgetting something elusive that she had previously seemed to catch. but afterwards there came a glimpse of some more serious divergence--a glimpse merely. miss glendower hazarded a supposition that the sea people also had their problems, and then it would seem the natural earnestness of her disposition overcame her proper attitude of ladylike superficiality and she began to ask questions. there can be no doubt that the sea lady was evasive, and miss glendower, perceiving that she had been a trifle urgent, tried to cover her error by expressing a general impression. "i can't see it," she said, with a gesture that asked for sympathy. "one wants to see it, one wants to _be_ it. one needs to be born a mer-child." "a mer-child?" asked the sea lady. "yes-don't you call your little ones----?" "_what_ little ones?" asked the sea lady. she regarded them for a moment with a frank wonder, the undying wonder of the immortals at that perpetual decay and death and replacement which is the gist of human life. then at the expression of their faces she seemed to recollect. "of course," she said, and then with a transition that made pursuit difficult, she agreed with adeline. "it _is_ different," she said. "it _is_ wonderful. one feels so alike, you know, and so different. that's just where it _is_ so wonderful. do i look--? and yet you know i have never had my hair up, nor worn a dressing gown before today." "what do you wear?" asked miss glendower. "very charming things, i suppose." "it's a different costume altogether," said the sea lady, brushing away a crumb. just for a moment mrs. bunting regarded her visitor fixedly. she had, i fancy, in that moment, an indistinct, imperfect glimpse of pagan possibilities. but there, you know, was the sea lady in her wrapper, so palpably a lady, with her pretty hair brought up to date and such a frank innocence in her eyes, that mrs. bunting's suspicions vanished as they came. (but i am not so sure of adeline.) chapter the third the episode of the various journalists i the remarkable thing is that the buntings really carried out the programme mrs. bunting laid down. for a time at least they positively succeeded in converting the sea lady into a credible human invalid, in spite of the galaxy of witnesses to the lady's landing and in spite of the severe internal dissensions that presently broke out. in spite, moreover, of the fact that one of the maids--they found out which only long after--told the whole story under vows to her very superior young man who told it next sunday to a rising journalist who was sitting about on the leas maturing a descriptive article. the rising journalist was incredulous. but he went about enquiring. in the end he thought it good enough to go upon. he found in several quarters a vague but sufficient rumour of a something; for the maid's young man was a conversationalist when he had anything to say. finally the rising journalist went and sounded the people on the two chief folkestone papers and found the thing had just got to them. they were inclined to pretend they hadn't heard of it, after the fashion of local papers when confronted by the abnormal, but the atmosphere of enterprise that surrounded the rising journalist woke them up. he perceived he had done so and that he had no time to lose. so while they engaged in inventing representatives to enquire, he went off and telephoned to the _daily gunfire_ and the _new paper_. when they answered he was positive and earnest. he staked his reputation--the reputation of a rising journalist! "i swear there's something up," he said. "get in first--that's all." he had some reputation, i say--and he had staked it. the _daily gunfire_ was sceptical but precise, and the _new paper_ sprang a headline "a mermaid at last!" you might well have thought the thing was out after that, but it wasn't. there are things one doesn't believe even if they are printed in a halfpenny paper. to find the reporters hammering at their doors, so to speak, and fended off only for a time by a proposal that they should call again; to see their incredible secret glaringly in print, did indeed for a moment seem a hopeless exposure to both the buntings and the sea lady. already they could see the story spreading, could imagine the imminent rush of intimate enquiries, the tripod strides of a multitude of cameras, the crowds watching the windows, the horrors of a great publicity. all the buntings and mabel were aghast, simply aghast. adeline was not so much aghast as excessively annoyed at this imminent and, so far as she was concerned, absolutely irrelevant publicity. "they will never dare--" she said, and "consider how it affects harry!" and at the earliest opportunity she retired to her own room. the others, with a certain disregard of her offence, sat around the sea lady's couch--she had scarcely touched her breakfast--and canvassed the coming terror. "they will put our photographs in the papers," said the elder miss bunting. "well, they won't put mine in," said her sister. "it's horrid. i shall go right off now and have it taken again." "they'll interview the ded!" "no, no," said mr. bunting terrified. "your mother----" "it's your place, my dear," said mrs. bunting. "but the ded--" said fred. "i couldn't," said mr. bunting. "well, some one'll have to tell 'em anyhow," said mrs. bunting. "you know, they will----" "but it isn't at all what i wanted," wailed the sea lady, with the _daily gunfire_ in her hand. "can't it be stopped?" "you don't know our journalists," said fred. the tact of my cousin melville saved the situation. he had dabbled in journalism and talked with literary fellows like myself. and literary fellows like myself are apt at times to be very free and outspoken about the press. he heard of the buntings' shrinking terror of publicity as soon as he arrived, a perfect clamour--an almost exultant clamour indeed, of shrinking terror, and he caught the sea lady's eye and took his line there and then. "it's not an occasion for sticking at trifles, mrs. bunting," he said. "but i think we can save the situation all the same. you're too hopeless. we must put our foot down at once; that's all. let _me_ see these reporter fellows and write to the london dailies. i think i can take a line that will settle them." "eh?" said fred. "i can take a line that will stop it, trust me." "what, altogether?" "altogether." "how?" said fred and mrs. bunting. "you're not going to bribe them!" "bribe!" said mr. bunting. "we're not in france. you can't bribe a british paper." (a sort of subdued cheer went around from the assembled buntings.) "you leave it to me," said melville, in his element. and with earnestly expressed but not very confident wishes for his success, they did. he managed the thing admirably. "what's this about a mermaid?" he demanded of the local journalists when they returned. they travelled together for company, being, so to speak, emergency journalists, compositors in their milder moments, and unaccustomed to these higher aspects of journalism. "what's this about a mermaid?" repeated my cousin, while they waived precedence dumbly one to another. "i believe some one's been letting you in," said my cousin melville. "just imagine!--a mermaid!" "that's what we thought," said the younger of the two emergency journalists. "we knew it was some sort of hoax, you know. only the _new paper_ giving it a headline----" "i'm amazed even banghurst--" said my cousin melville. "it's in the _daily gunfire_ as well," said the older of the two emergency journalists. "what's one more or less of these ha'penny fever rags?" cried my cousin with a ringing scorn. "surely you're not going to take your folkestone news from mere london papers." "but how did the story come about?" began the older emergency journalist. "that's not my affair." the younger emergency journalist had an inspiration. he produced a note book from his breast pocket. "perhaps, sir, you wouldn't mind suggesting to us something we might say----" my cousin melville complied. ii the rising young journalist who had first got wind of the business--who must not for a moment be confused with the two emergency journalists heretofore described--came to banghurst next night in a state of strange exultation. "i've been through with it and i've seen her," he panted. "i waited about outside and saw her taken into the carriage. i've talked to one of the maids--i got into the house under pretence of being a telephone man to see their telephone--i spotted the wire--and it's a fact. a positive fact--she's a mermaid with a tail--a proper mermaid's tail. i've got here----" he displayed sheets. "whaddyer talking about?" said banghurst from his littered desk, eyeing the sheets with apprehensive animosity. "the mermaid--there really _is_ a mermaid. at folkestone." banghurst turned away from him and pawed at his pen tray. "whad if there is!" he said after a pause. "but it's proved. that note you printed----" "that note i printed was a mistake if there's anything of that sort going, young man." banghurst remained an obstinate expansion of back. "how?" "we don't deal in mermaids here." "but you're not going to let it drop?" "i am." "but there she is!" [illustration: "stuff that the public won't believe aren't facts."] "let her be." he turned on the rising young journalist, and his massive face was unusually massive and his voice fine and full and fruity. "do you think we're going to make our public believe anything simply because it's true? they know perfectly well what they are going to believe and what they aren't going to believe, and they aren't going to believe anything about mermaids--you bet your hat. i don't care if the whole damned beach was littered with mermaids--not the whole damned beach! we've got our reputation to keep up. see?... look here!--you don't learn journalism as i hoped you'd do. it was you what brought in all that stuff about a discovery in chemistry----" "it's true." "ugh!" "i had it from a fellow of the royal society----" "i don't care if you had it from--anybody. stuff that the public won't believe aren't facts. being true only makes 'em worse. they buy our paper to swallow it and it's got to go down easy. when i printed you that note and headline i thought you was up to a lark. i thought you was on to a mixed bathing scandal or something of that sort--with juice in it. the sort of thing that _all_ understand. you know when you went down to folkestone you were going to describe what salisbury and all the rest of them wear upon the leas. and start a discussion on the acclimatisation of the café. and all that. and then you get on to this (unprintable epithet) nonsense!" "but lord salisbury--he doesn't go to folkestone." banghurst shrugged his shoulders over a hopeless case. "what the deuce," he said, addressing his inkpot in plaintive tones, "does _that_ matter?" the young man reflected. he addressed banghurst's back after a pause. his voice had flattened a little. "i might go over this and do it up as a lark perhaps. make it a comic dialogue sketch with a man who really believed in it--or something like that. it's a beastly lot of copy to get slumped, you know." "nohow," said banghurst. "not in any shape. no! why! they'd think it clever. they'd think you was making game of them. they hate things they think are clever!" the young man made as if to reply, but banghurst's back expressed quite clearly that the interview was at an end. "nohow," repeated banghurst just when it seemed he had finished altogether. "i may take it to the _gunfire_ then?" banghurst suggested an alternative. "very well," said the young man, heated, "the _gunfire_ it is." but in that he was reckoning without the editor of the _gunfire_. iii it must have been quite soon after that, that i myself heard the first mention of the mermaid, little recking that at last it would fall to me to write her history. i was on one of my rare visits to london, and micklethwaite was giving me lunch at the penwiper club, certainly one of the best dozen literary clubs in london. i noted the rising young journalist at a table near the door, lunching alone. all about him tables were vacant, though the other parts of the room were crowded. he sat with his face towards the door, and he kept looking up whenever any one came in, as if he expected some one who never came. once distinctly i saw him beckon to a man, but the man did not respond. "look here, micklethwaite," i said, "why is everybody avoiding that man over there? i noticed just now in the smoking-room that he seemed to be trying to get into conversation with some one and that a kind of taboo----" micklethwaite stared over his fork. "ra-ther," he said. "but what's he done?" "he's a fool," said micklethwaite with his mouth full, evidently annoyed. "ugh," he said as soon as he was free to do so. i waited a little while. "what's he done?" i ventured. micklethwaite did not answer for a moment and crammed things into his mouth vindictively, bread and all sorts of things. then leaning towards me in a confidential manner he made indignant noises which i could not clearly distinguish as words. "oh!" i said, when he had done. "yes," said micklethwaite. he swallowed and then poured himself wine--splashing the tablecloth. "he had _me_ for an hour very nearly the other day." "yes?" i said. "silly fool," said micklethwaite. i was afraid it was all over, but luckily he gave me an opening again after gulping down his wine. "he leads you on to argue," he said. "that----?" "that he can't prove it." "yes?" "and then he shows you he can. just showing off how damned ingenious he is." i was a little confused. "prove what?" i asked. "haven't i been telling you?" said micklethwaite, growing very red. "about this confounded mermaid of his at folkestone." "he says there is one?" "yes, he does," said micklethwaite, going purple and staring at me very hard. he seemed to ask mutely whether i of all people proposed to turn on him and back up this infamous scoundrel. i thought for a moment he would have apoplexy, but happily he remembered his duty as my host. so he turned very suddenly on a meditative waiter for not removing our plates. "had any golf lately?" i said to micklethwaite, when the plates and the remains of the waiter had gone away. golf always does micklethwaite good except when he is actually playing. then, i am told-if i were mrs. bunting i should break off and raise my eyebrows and both hands at this point, to indicate how golf acts on micklethwaite when he is playing. i turned my mind to feigning an interest in golf--a game that in truth i despise and hate as i despise and hate nothing else in this world. imagine a great fat creature like micklethwaite, a creature who ought to wear a turban and a long black robe to hide his grossness, whacking a little white ball for miles and miles with a perfect surgery of instruments, whacking it either with a babyish solemnity or a childish rage as luck may have decided, whacking away while his country goes to the devil, and incidentally training an innocent-eyed little boy to swear and be a tip-hunting loafer. that's golf! however, i controlled my all too facile sneer and talked of golf and the relative merits of golf links as i might talk to a child about buns or distract a puppy with the whisper of "rats," and when at last i could look at the rising young journalist again our lunch had come to an end. i saw that he was talking with a greater air of freedom than it is usual to display to club waiters, to the man who held his coat. the man looked incredulous but respectful, and was answering shortly but politely. when we went out this little conversation was still going on. the waiter was holding the rising young journalist's soft felt hat and the rising young journalist was fumbling in his coat pocket with a thick mass of papers. "it's tremendous. i've got most of it here," he was saying as we went by. "i don't know if you'd care----" "i get very little time for reading, sir," the waiter was replying. chapter the fourth the quality of parker i so far i have been very full, i know, and verisimilitude has been my watchword rather than the true affidavit style. but if i have made it clear to the reader just how the sea lady landed and just how it was possible for her to land and become a member of human society without any considerable excitement on the part of that society, such poor pains as i have taken to tint and shadow and embellish the facts at my disposal will not have been taken in vain. she positively and quietly settled down with the buntings. within a fortnight she had really settled down so thoroughly that, save for her exceptional beauty and charm and the occasional faint touches of something a little indefinable in her smile, she had become a quite passable and credible human being. she was a cripple, indeed, and her lower limb was most pathetically swathed and put in a sort of case, but it was quite generally understood--i am afraid at mrs. bunting's initiative--that presently _they_--mrs. bunting said "they," which was certainly almost as far or even a little farther than legitimate prevarication may go--would be as well as ever. [illustration: she positively and quietly settled down with the buntings.] "of course," said mrs. bunting, "she will never be able to _bicycle_ again----" that was the sort of glamour she threw about it. ii in parker it is indisputable that the sea lady found--or at least had found for her by mrs. bunting--a treasure of the richest sort. parker was still fallaciously young, but she had been maid to a lady from india who had been in a "case" and had experienced and overcome cross-examination. she had also been deceived by a young man, whom she had fancied greatly, only to find him walking out with another--contrary to her inflexible sense of correctness--in the presence of which all other things are altogether vain. life she had resolved should have no further surprises for her. she looked out on its (largely improper) pageant with an expression of alert impartiality in her hazel eyes, calm, doing her specific duty, and entirely declining to participate further. she always kept her elbows down by her side and her hands always just in contact, and it was impossible for the most powerful imagination to conceive her under any circumstances as being anything but absolutely straight and clean and neat. and her voice was always under all circumstances low and wonderfully distinct--just to an infinitesimal degree indeed "mincing." mrs. bunting had been a little nervous when it came to the point. it was mrs. bunting of course who engaged her, because the sea lady was so entirely without experience. but certainly mrs. bunting's nervousness was thrown away. "you understand," said mrs. bunting, taking a plunge at it, "that--that she is an invalid." "i _didn't_, mem," replied parker respectfully, and evidently quite willing to understand anything as part of her duty in this world. "in fact," said mrs. bunting, rubbing the edge of the tablecloth daintily with her gloved finger and watching the operation with interest, "as a matter of fact, she has a mermaid's tail." "mermaid's tail! indeed, mem! and is it painful at all?" "oh, dear, no, it involves no inconvenience--nothing. except--you understand, there is a need of--discretion." "of course, mem," said parker, as who should say, "there always is." "we particularly don't want the servants----" "the lower servants-no, mem." "you understand?" and mrs. bunting looked up again and regarded parker calmly. "precisely, mem!" said parker, with a face unmoved, and so they came to the question of terms. "it all passed off _most_ satisfactorily," said mrs. bunting, taking a deep breath at the mere memory of that moment. and it is clear that parker was quite of her opinion. she was not only discreet but really clever and handy. from the very outset she grasped the situation, unostentatiously but very firmly. it was parker who contrived the sort of violin case for it, and who made the tea gown extension that covered the case's arid contours. it was parker who suggested an invalid's chair for use indoors and in the garden, and a carrying chair for the staircase. hitherto fred bunting had been on hand, at last even in excessive abundance, whenever the sea lady lay in need of masculine arms. but parker made it clear at once that that was not at all in accordance with her ideas, and so earned the lifelong gratitude of mabel glendower. and parker too spoke out for drives, and suggested with an air of rightness that left nothing else to be done, the hire of a carriage and pair for the season--to the equal delight of the buntings and the sea lady. it was parker who dictated the daily drive up to the eastern end of the leas and the sea lady's transfer, and the manner of the sea lady's transfer, to the bath chair in which she promenaded the leas. there seemed to be nowhere that it was pleasant and proper for the sea lady to go that parker did not swiftly and correctly indicate it and the way to get to it, and there seems to have been nothing that it was really undesirable the sea lady should do and anywhere that it was really undesirable that she should go, that parker did not at once invisibly but effectively interpose a bar. it was parker who released the sea lady from being a sort of private and peculiar property in the bunting household and carried her off to a becoming position in the world, when the crisis came. in little things as in great she failed not. it was she who made it luminous that the sea lady's card plate was not yet engraved and printed ("miss doris thalassia waters" was the pleasant and appropriate name with which the sea lady came primed), and who replaced the box of the presumably dank and drowned and dripping "tom" by a jewel case, a dressing bag and the first of the sea lady's trunks. on a thousand little occasions this parker showed a sense of propriety that was penetratingly fine. for example, in the shop one day when "things" of an intimate sort were being purchased, she suddenly intervened. "there are stockings, mem," she said in a discreet undertone, behind, but not too vulgarly behind, a fluttering straight hand. "_stockings!_" cried mrs. bunting. "but----!" "i think, mem, she should have stockings," said parker, quietly but very firmly. and come to think of it, why _should_ an unavoidable deficiency in a lady excuse one that can be avoided? it's there we touch the very quintessence and central principle of the proper life. but mrs. bunting, you know, would never have seen it like that. iii let me add here, regretfully but with infinite respect, one other thing about parker, and then she shall drop into her proper place. i must confess, with a slight tinge of humiliation, that i pursued this young woman to her present situation at highton towers--maid she is to that eminent religious and social propagandist, the lady jane glanville. there were certain details of which i stood in need, certain scenes and conversations of which my passion for verisimilitude had scarcely a crumb to go upon. and from first to last, what she must have seen and learnt and inferred would amount practically to everything. i put this to her frankly. she made no pretence of not understanding me nor of ignorance of certain hidden things. when i had finished she regarded me with a level regard. "i couldn't think of it, sir," she said. "it wouldn't be at all according to my ideas." "but!--it surely couldn't possibly hurt you now to tell me." "i'm afraid i couldn't, sir." "it couldn't hurt anyone." "it isn't that, sir." "i should see you didn't lose by it, you know." she looked at me politely, having said what she intended to say. and, in spite of what became at last very fine and handsome inducements, that remained the inflexible parker's reply. even after i had come to an end with my finesse and attempted to bribe her in the grossest manner, she displayed nothing but a becoming respect for my impregnable social superiority. "i couldn't think of it, sir," she repeated. "it wouldn't be at all according to my ideas." and if in the end you should find this story to any extent vague or incomplete, i trust you will remember how the inflexible severity of parker's ideas stood in my way. chapter the fifth the absence and return of mr. harry chatteris i these digressions about parker and the journalists have certainly led me astray from the story a little. you will, however, understand that while the rising young journalist was still in pursuit of information, hope and banghurst, and parker merely a budding perfection, the carriage not even thought of, things were already developing in that bright little establishment beneath the evergreen oaks on the folkestone riviera. so soon as the minds of the buntings ceased to be altogether focused upon this new and amazing social addition, they--of all people--had most indisputably discovered, it became at first faintly and then very clearly evident that their own simple pleasure in the possession of a guest so beautiful as miss waters, so solidly wealthy and--in a manner--so distinguished, was not entirely shared by the two young ladies who were to have been their principal guests for the season. this little rift was perceptible the very first time mrs. bunting had an opportunity of talking over her new arrangements with miss glendower. "and is she really going to stay with you all the summer?" said adeline. "surely, dear, you don't mind?" "it takes me a little by surprise." "she's asked me, my dear----" "i'm thinking of harry. if the general election comes on in september--and every one seems to think it will-you promised you would let us inundate you with electioneering." "but do you think she----" "she will be dreadfully in the way." she added after an interval, "she stops my working." "but, my dear!" "she's out of harmony," said adeline. mrs. bunting looked out of her window at the tamarisk and the sea. "i'm sure i wouldn't do anything to hurt harry's prospects. you know how enthusiastic we all are. randolph would do anything. but are you sure she will be in the way?" "what else can she be?" "she might help even." "oh, help!" "she might canvass. she's very attractive, you know, dear." "not to me," said miss glendower. "i don't trust her." "but to some people. and as harry says, at election times every one who can do anything must be let do it. cut them--do anything afterwards, but at the time--you know he talked of it when mr. fison and he were here. if you left electioneering only to the really nice people----" "it was mr. fison said that, not harry. and besides, she wouldn't help." "i think you misjudge her there, dear. she has been asking----" "to help?" "yes, and all about it," said mrs. bunting, with a transient pink. "she keeps asking questions about why we are having the election and what it is all about, and why harry is a candidate and all that. she wants to go into it quite deeply. _i_ can't answer half the things she asks." "and that's why she keeps up those long conversations with mr. melville, i suppose, and why fred goes about neglecting mabel----" "my dear!" said mrs. bunting. "i wouldn't have her canvassing with us for anything," said miss glendower. "she'd spoil everything. she is frivolous and satirical. she looks at you with incredulous eyes, she seems to blight all one's earnestness.... i don't think you quite understand, dear mrs. bunting, what this election and my studies mean to me--and harry. she comes across all that--like a contradiction." "surely, my dear! i've never heard her contradict." "oh, she doesn't contradict. but she-there is something about her-one feels that things that are most important and vital are nothing to her. don't you feel it? she comes from another world to us." mrs. bunting remained judicial. adeline dropped to a lower key again. "i think," she said, "anyhow, that we're taking her very easily. how do we know what she is? down there, out there, she may be anything. she may have had excellent reasons for coming to land----" "my dear!" cried mrs. bunting. "is that charity?" "how do they live?" "if she hadn't lived nicely i'm sure she couldn't behave so nicely." "besides--coming here! she had no invitation----" "i've invited her now," said mrs. bunting gently. "you could hardly help yourself. i only hope your kindness----" "it's not a kindness," said mrs. bunting, "it's a duty. if she were only half as charming as she is. you seem to forget"--her voice dropped--"what it is she comes for." "that's what i want to know." "i'm sure in these days, with so much materialism about and such wickedness everywhere, when everybody who has a soul seems trying to lose it, to find any one who hadn't a soul and who is trying to find one----" "but _is_ she trying to get one?" "mr. flange comes twice every week. he would come oftener, as you know, if there wasn't so much confirmation about." "and when he comes he sits and touches her hand if he can, and he talks in his lowest voice, and she sits and smiles--she almost laughs outright at the things he says." "because he has to win his way with her. surely mr. flange may do what he can to make religion attractive?" "i don't believe she believes she will get a soul. i don't believe she wants one a bit." she turned towards the door as if she had done. mrs. bunting's pink was now permanent. she had brought up a son and two daughters, and besides she had brought down a husband to "my dear, how was _i_ to know?" and when it was necessary to be firm--even with adeline glendower--she knew how to be firm just as well as anybody. "my dear," she began in her very firmest quiet manner, "i am positive you misjudge miss waters. trivial she may be--on the surface at any rate. perhaps she laughs and makes fun a little. there are different ways of looking at things. but i am sure that at bottom she is just as serious, just as grave, as--any one. you judge her hastily. i am sure if you knew her better--as i do----" mrs. bunting left an eloquent pause. miss glendower had two little pink flushes in her cheeks. she turned with her hand on the door. "at any rate," she said, "i am sure that harry will agree with me that she can be no help to our cause. we have our work to do and it is something more than just vulgar electioneering. we have to develop and establish ideas. harry has views that are new and wide-reaching. we want to put our whole strength into this work. now especially. and her presence----" she paused for a moment. "it is a digression. she divides things. she puts it all wrong. she has a way of concentrating attention about herself. she alters the values of things. she prevents my being single-minded, she will prevent harry being single-minded----" "i think, my dear, that you might trust my judgment a little," said mrs. bunting and paused. miss glendower opened her mouth and shut it again, without speaking. it became evident finality was attained. nothing remained to be said but the regrettable. the door opened and closed smartly and mrs. bunting was alone. within an hour they all met at the luncheon table and adeline's behaviour to the sea lady and to mrs. bunting was as pleasant and alert as any highly earnest and intellectual young lady's could be. and all that mrs. bunting said and did tended with what people call infinite tact--which really, you know, means a great deal more tact than is comfortable--to develop and expose the more serious aspect of the sea lady's mind. mr. bunting was unusually talkative and told them all about a glorious project he had just heard of, to cut out the rather shrubby and weedy front of the leas and stick in something between a wine vault and the crystal palace as a winter garden--which seemed to him a very excellent idea indeed. ii it is time now to give some impression of the imminent chatteris, who for all his late appearance is really the chief human being in my cousin melville's story. it happens that i met him with some frequency in my university days and afterwards ever and again i came upon him. he was rather a brilliant man at the university, smart without being vulgar and clever for all that. he was remarkably good-looking from the very onset of his manhood and without being in any way a showy spendthrift, was quite magnificently extravagant. there was trouble in his last year, something hushed up about a girl or woman in london, but his family had it all over with him, and his uncle, the earl of beechcroft, settled some of his bills. not all--for the family is commendably free from sentimental excesses--but enough to make him comfortable again. the family is not a rich one and it further abounds in an extraordinary quantity of rather frowsy, loose-tongued aunts--i never knew a family quite so rich in old aunts. but chatteris was so good-looking, easy-mannered, and clever, that they seemed to agree almost without discussion to pull him through. they hunted about for something that would be really remunerative without being laborious or too commercial; and meanwhile--after the extraordinary craving of his aunt, lady poynting mallow, to see him acting had been overcome by the united efforts of the more religious section of his aunts--chatteris set himself seriously to the higher journalism--that is to say, the journalism that dines anywhere, gets political tips after dinner, and is always acceptable--if only to avoid thirteen articles--in a half-crown review. in addition, he wrote some very passable verse and edited jane austen for the only publisher who had not already reprinted the works of that classic lady. his verse, like himself, was shapely and handsome, and, like his face, it suggested to the penetrating eye certain reservations and indecisions. there was just that touch of refinement that is weakness in the public man. but as yet he was not a public man; he was known to be energetic and his work was gathering attention as always capable and occasionally brilliant. his aunts declared he was ripening, that any defect in vigour he displayed was the incompleteness of the process, and decided he should go to america, where vigour and vigorous opportunities abound, and there, i gather, he came upon something like a failure. something happened, indeed, quite a lot happened. he came back unmarried--and _viâ_ the south seas, australasia and india. and lady poynting mallow publicly told him he was a fool, when he got back. what happened in america, even if one does not consult contemporary american papers, is still very difficult to determine. there appear to have been the daughter of a millionaire and something like an engagement in the story. according to the _new york yell_, one of the smartest, crispest, and altogether most representative papers in america, there was also the daughter of some one else, whom the _yell_ interviewed, or professed to interview, under the heading: an aristocratic britisher trifles with a pure american girl interview with the victim of his heartless levity but this some one else was, i am inclined to think in spite of her excellently executed portrait, merely a brilliant stroke of modern journalism, the _yell_ having got wind of the sudden retreat of chatteris and inventing a reason in preference to discovering one. wensleydale tells me the true impetus to bolt was the merest trifle. the daughter of the millionaire, being a bright and spirited girl, had undergone interviewing on the subject of her approaching marriage, on marriage in general, on social questions of various sorts, and on the relations of the british and american peoples, and he seems to have found the thing in his morning paper. it took him suddenly and he lost his head. and once he started, he seems to have lacked the power of mind to turn about and come back. the affair was a mess, the family paid some more of his bills and shirked others, and chatteris turned up in london again after a time, with somewhat diminished glory and a series of letters on imperial affairs, each headed with the quotation: "what do they know of england who only england know?" of course people of england learnt nothing of the real circumstances of the case, but it was fairly obvious that he had gone to america and come back empty-handed. and that was how, in the course of some years, he came to adeline glendower, of whose special gifts as his helper and inspiration you have already heard from mrs. bunting. when he became engaged to her, the family, which had long craved to forgive him--lady poynting mallow as a matter of fact had done so--brightened wonderfully. and after considerable obscure activities he declared himself a philanthropic liberal with open spaces in his platform, and in a position, and ready as a beginning, to try the quality of the conservative south. he was away making certain decisive arrangements, in paris and elsewhere, at the time of the landing of the sea lady. before the matter was finally settled it was necessary that something should be said to a certain great public character, and then he was to return and tell adeline. and every one was expecting him daily, including, it is now indisputable, the sea lady. iii the meeting of miss glendower and her affianced lover on his return from paris was one of those scenes in this story for which i have scarcely an inkling of the true details. he came to folkestone and stopped at the métropole, the bunting house being full and the métropole being the nearest hotel to sandgate; and he walked down in the afternoon and asked for adeline, which was pretty rather than correct. i gather that they met in the drawing-room, and as chatteris closed the door behind him, i imagine there was something in the nature of a caress. i must confess i envy the freedom of the novelist who can take you behind such a locked door as this and give you all that such persons say and do. but with the strongest will in the world to blend the little scraps of fact i have into a continuous sequence of events, i falter at this occasion. after all, i never saw adeline at all until after all these things were over, and what is she now? a rather tall, a rather restless and active woman, very keen and obvious in public affairs--with something gone out of her. melville once saw a gleam of that, but for the most part melville never liked her; she had a wider grasp of things than he, and he was a little afraid of her; she was in some inexplicable way neither a pretty woman nor a "dear lady" nor a _grande dame_ nor totally insignificant, and a heretic therefore in melville's scheme of things. he gives me small material for that earlier adeline. "she posed," he says; she was "political," and she was always reading mrs. humphry ward. the last melville regarded as the most heinous offence. it is not the least of my cousin's weaknesses that he regards this great novelist as an extremely corrupting influence for intelligent girls. she makes them good and serious in the wrong way, he says. adeline, he asserts, was absolutely built on her. she was always attempting to be the incarnation of _marcella_. it was he who had perverted mrs. bunting's mind to adopt this fancy. but i don't believe for a moment in this idea of girls building themselves on heroines in fiction. these are matters of elective affinity, and unless some bullying critic or preacher sends us astray, we take each to our own novelist as the souls in the swedenborgian system take to their hells. adeline took to the imaginary _marcella_. there was, melville says, the strongest likeness in their mental atmosphere. they had the same defects, a bias for superiority--to use his expressive phrase--the same disposition towards arrogant benevolence, that same obtuseness to little shades of feeling that leads people to speak habitually of the "lower classes," and to think in the vein of that phrase. they certainly had the same virtues, a conscious and conscientious integrity, a hard nobility without one touch of magic, an industrious thoroughness. more than in anything else, adeline delighted in her novelist's thoroughness, her freedom from impressionism, the patient resolution with which she went into the corners and swept under the mat of every incident. and it would be easy to argue from that, that adeline behaved as mrs. ward's most characteristic heroine behaved, on an analogous occasion. _marcella_ we know--at least after her heart was changed--would have clung to him. there would have been a moment of high emotion in which thoughts--of the highest class--mingled with the natural ambition of two people in the prime of life and power. then she would have receded with a quick movement and listened with her beautiful hand pensive against her cheek, while chatteris began to sum up the forces against him--to speculate on the action of this group and that. something infinitely tender and maternal would have spoken in her, pledging her to the utmost help that love and a woman can give. she would have produced in chatteris that exquisite mingled impression of grace, passion, self-yielding, which in all its infinite variations and repetitions made up for him the constant poem of her beauty. but that is the dream and not the reality. so adeline might have dreamt of behaving, but--she was not _marcella_, and only wanting to be, and he was not only not maxwell but he had no intention of being maxwell anyhow. if he had had an opportunity of becoming maxwell he would probably have rejected it with extreme incivility. so they met like two unheroic human beings, with shy and clumsy movements and, i suppose, fairly honest eyes. something there was in the nature of a caress, i believe, and then i incline to fancy she said "well?" and i think he must have answered, "it's all right." after that, and rather allusively, with a backward jerk of the head at intervals as it were towards the great personage, chatteris must have told her particulars. he must have told her that he was going to contest hythe and that the little difficulty with the glasgow commission agent who wanted to run the radical ticket as a "man of kent" had been settled without injury to the party (such as it is). assuredly they talked politics, because soon after, when they came into the garden side by side to where mrs. bunting and the sea lady sat watching the girls play croquet, adeline was in full possession of all these facts. i fancy that for such a couple as they were, such intimation of success, such earnest topics, replaced, to a certain extent at any rate, the vain repetition of vulgar endearments. the sea lady appears to have been the first to see them. "here he is," she said abruptly. "whom?" said mrs. bunting, glancing up at eyes that were suddenly eager, and then following their glance towards chatteris. "your other son," said the sea lady, jesting unheeded. "it's harry and adeline!" cried mrs. bunting. "don't they make a handsome couple?" but the sea lady made no reply, and leaned back, scrutinising their advance. certainly they made a handsome pair. coming out of the veranda into the blaze of the sun and across the trim lawn towards the shadow of the ilex trees, they were lit, as it were, with a more glorious limelight, and displayed like actors on a stage more spacious than the stage of any theatre. the figure of chatteris must have come out tall and fair and broad, a little sunburnt, and i gather even then a little preoccupied, as indeed he always seemed to be in those latter days. and beside him adeline, glancing now up at him and now towards the audience under the trees, dark and a little flushed, rather tall--though not so tall as _marcella_ seems to have been--and, you know, without any instructions from any novel-writer in the world, glad. chatteris did not discover that there was any one but buntings under the tree until he was close at hand. then the abrupt discovery of this stranger seems to have checked whatever he was prepared to say for his _début_, and adeline took the centre of the stage. mrs. bunting was standing up, and all the croquet players--except mabel, who was winning--converged on chatteris with cries of welcome. mabel remained in the midst of what i understand is called a tea-party, loudly demanding that they should see her "play it out." no doubt if everything had gone well she would have given a most edifying exhibition of what croquet can sometimes be. adeline swam forward to mrs. bunting and cried with a note of triumph in her voice: "it is all settled. everything is settled. he has won them all and he is to contest hythe." quite involuntarily her eyes must have met the sea lady's. it is of course quite impossible to say what she found there--or indeed what there was to find there then. for a moment they faced riddles, and then the sea lady turned her eyes with a long deferred scrutiny to the man's face, which she probably saw now closely for the first time. one wonders whether it is just possible that there may have been something, if it were no more than a gleam of surprise and enquiry, in that meeting of their eyes. just for a moment she held his regard, and then it shifted enquiringly to mrs. bunting. that lady intervened effusively with an "oh! i forgot," and introduced them. i think they went through that without another meeting of the foils of their regard. "you back?" said fred to chatteris, touching his arm, and chatteris confirmed this happy guess. the bunting girls seemed to welcome adeline's enviable situation rather than chatteris as an individual. and mabel's voice could be heard approaching. "oughtn't they to see me play it out, mr. chatteris?" "hullo, harry, my boy!" cried mr. bunting, who was cultivating a bluff manner. "how's paris?" "how's the fishing?" said harry. and so they came into a vague circle about this lively person who had "won them all"--except parker, of course, who remained in her own proper place and was, i am certain, never to be won by anybody. there was a handing and shifting of garden chairs. no one seemed to take the slightest notice of adeline's dramatic announcement. the buntings were not good at thinking of things to say. she stood in the midst of the group like a leading lady when the other actors have forgotten their parts. then every one woke up to this, as it were, and they went off in a volley. "so it's really all settled," said mrs. bunting; and betty bunting said, "there _is_ to be an election then!" and nettie said, "what fun!" mr. bunting remarked with a knowing air, "so you saw him then?" and fred flung "hooray!" into the tangle of sounds. the sea lady of course said nothing. "we'll give 'em a jolly good fight for it, anyhow," said mr. bunting. "well, i hope we shall do that," said chatteris. "we shall do more than that," said adeline. "oh, yes!" said betty bunting, "we shall." "i knew they would let him," said adeline. "if they had any sense," said mr. bunting. then came a pause, and mr. bunting was emboldened to lift up his voice and utter politics. "they are getting sense," he said. "they are learning that a party must have men, men of birth and training. money and the mob--they've tried to keep things going by playing to fads and class jealousies. and the irish. and they've had their lesson. how? why,--we've stood aside. we've left 'em to faddists and fomenters--and the irish. and here they are! it's a revolution in the party. we've let it down. now we must pick it up again." he made a gesture with his fat little hand, one of those fat pink little hands that appear to have neither flesh nor bones inside them but only sawdust or horse-hair. mrs. bunting leaned back in her chair and smiled at him indulgently. "it is no common election," said mr. bunting. "it is a great issue." the sea lady had been regarding him thoughtfully. "what is a great issue?" she asked. "i don't quite understand." mr. bunting spread himself to explain to her. "this," he said to begin with. adeline listened with a mingling of interest and impatience, attempting ever and again to suppress him and to involve chatteris by a tactful interposition. but chatteris appeared disinclined to be involved. he seemed indeed quite interested in mr. bunting's view of the case. presently the croquet quartette went back--at mabel's suggestion--to their game, and the others continued their political talk. it became more personal at last, dealing soon quite specifically with all that chatteris was doing and more particularly all that chatteris was to do. mrs. bunting suddenly suppressed mr. bunting as he was offering advice, and adeline took the burden of the talk again. she indicated vast purposes. "this election is merely the opening of a door," she said. when chatteris made modest disavowals she smiled with a proud and happy consciousness of what she meant to make of him. and mrs. bunting supplied footnotes to make it all clear to the sea lady. "he's so modest," she said at one point, and chatteris pretended not to hear and went rather pink. ever and again he attempted to deflect the talk towards the sea lady and away from himself, but he was hampered by his ignorance of her position. and the sea lady said scarcely anything but watched chatteris and adeline, and more particularly chatteris in relation to adeline. chapter the sixth symptomatic i my cousin melville is never very clear about his dates. now this is greatly to be regretted, because it would be very illuminating indeed if one could tell just how many days elapsed before he came upon chatteris in intimate conversation with the sea lady. he was going along the front of the leas with some books from the public library that miss glendower had suddenly wished to consult, and which she, with that entire ignorance of his lack of admiration for her which was part of her want of charm for him, had bidden him bring her. it was in one of those sheltered paths just under the brow which give such a pleasant and characteristic charm to folkestone, that he came upon a little group about the sea lady's bath chair. chatteris was seated in one of the wooden seats that are embedded in the bank, and was leaning forward and looking into the sea lady's face; and she was speaking with a smile that struck melville even at the time as being a little special in its quality--and she seems to have been capable of many charming smiles. parker was a little distance away, where a sort of bastion projects and gives a wide view of the pier and harbour and the coast of france, regarding it all with a qualified disfavour, and the bath chairman was crumpled up against the bank lost in that wistful melancholy that the constant perambulation of broken humanity necessarily engenders. [illustration: a little group about the sea lady's bath chair.] my cousin slackened his pace a little and came up and joined them. the conversation hung at his approach. chatteris sat back a little, but there seemed no resentment and he sought a topic for the three to discuss in the books melville carried. "books?" he said. "for miss glendower," said melville. "oh!" said chatteris. "what are they about?" asked the sea lady. "land tenure," said melville. "that's hardly my subject," said the sea lady, and chatteris joined in her smile as if he saw a jest. there was a little pause. "you are contesting hythe?" said melville. "fate points that way," said chatteris. "they threaten a dissolution for september." "it will come in a month," said chatteris, with the inimitable tone of one who knows. "in that case we shall soon be busy." "and _i_ may canvass," said the sea lady. "i never have----" "miss waters," explained chatteris, "has been telling me she means to help us." he met melville's eye frankly. "it's rough work, miss waters," said melville. "i don't mind that. it's fun. and i want to help. i really do want to help--mr. chatteris." "you know, that's encouraging." "i could go around with you in my bath chair?" "it would be a picnic," said chatteris. "i mean to help anyhow," said the sea lady. "you know the case for the plaintiff?" asked melville. she looked at him. "you've got your arguments?" "i shall ask them to vote for mr. chatteris, and afterwards when i see them i shall remember them and smile and wave my hand. what else is there?" "nothing," said chatteris, and shut the lid on melville. "i wish i had an argument as good." "what sort of people are they here?" asked melville. "isn't there a smuggling interest to conciliate?" "i haven't asked that," said chatteris. "smuggling is over and past, you know. forty years ago. it always has been forty years ago. they trotted out the last of the smugglers,--interesting old man, full of reminiscences,--when there was a count of the saxon shore. he remembered smuggling--forty years ago. really, i doubt if there ever was any smuggling. the existing coast guard is a sacrifice to a vain superstition." "why!" cried the sea lady. "only about five weeks ago i saw quite near here----" she stopped abruptly and caught melville's eye. he grasped her difficulty. "in a paper?" he suggested. "yes, in a paper," she said, seizing the rope he threw her. "well?" asked chatteris. "there is smuggling still," said the sea lady, with an air of some one who decides not to tell an anecdote that is suddenly found to be half forgotten. "there's no doubt it happens," said chatteris, missing it all. "but it doesn't appear in the electioneering. i certainly sha'n't agitate for a faster revenue cutter. however things may be in that respect, i take the line that they are very well as they are. that's my line, of course." and he looked out to sea. the eyes of melville and the sea lady had an intimate moment. "there, you know, is just a specimen of the sort of thing we do," said chatteris. "are you prepared to be as intricate as that?" "quite," said the sea lady. my cousin was reminded of an anecdote. the talk degenerated into anecdotes of canvassing, and ran shallow. my cousin was just gathering that mrs. bunting and miss bunting had been with the sea lady and had gone into the town to a shop, when they returned. chatteris rose to greet them and explained--what had been by no means apparent before--that he was on his way to adeline, and after a few further trivialities he and melville went on together. a brief silence fell between them. "who is that miss waters?" asked chatteris. "friend of mrs. bunting," prevaricated melville. "so i gather.... she seems a very charming person." "she is." "she's interesting. her illness seems to throw her up. it makes a passive thing of her, like a picture or something that's--imaginary. imagined--anyhow. she sits there and smiles and responds. her eyes--have something intimate. and yet----" my cousin offered no assistance. "where did mrs. bunting find her." my cousin had to gather himself together for a second or so. "there's something," he said deliberately, "that mrs. bunting doesn't seem disposed----" "what can it be?" "it's bound to be all right," said melville rather weakly. "it's strange, too. mrs. bunting is usually so disposed----" melville left that to itself. "that's what one feels," said chatteris. "what?" "mystery." my cousin shares with me a profound detestation of that high mystic method of treating women. he likes women to be finite--and nice. in fact, he likes everything to be finite--and nice. so he merely grunted. but chatteris was not to be stopped by that. he passed to a critical note. "no doubt it's all illusion. all women are impressionists, a patch, a light. you get an effect. and that is all you are meant to get, i suppose. she gets an effect. but how--that's the mystery. it's not merely beauty. there's plenty of beauty in the world. but not of these effects. the eyes, i fancy." he dwelt on that for a moment. "there's really nothing in eyes, you know, chatteris," said my cousin melville, borrowing an alien argument and a tone of analytical cynicism from me. "have you ever looked at eyes through a hole in a sheet?" "oh, i don't know," said chatteris. "i don't mean the mere physical eye.... perhaps it's the look of health--and the bath chair. a bold discord. you don't know what's the matter, melville?" "how?" "i gather from bunting it's a disablement--not a deformity." "he ought to know." "i'm not so sure of that. you don't happen to know the nature of her disablement?" "i can't tell at all," said melville in a speculative tone. it struck him he was getting to prevaricate better. the subject seemed exhausted. they spoke of a common friend whom the sight of the métropole suggested. then they did not talk at all for a time, until the stir and interest of the band stand was passed. then chatteris threw out a thought. "complex business--feminine motives," he remarked. "how?" "this canvassing. _she_ can't be interested in philanthropic liberalism." "there's a difference in the type. and besides, it's a personal matter." "not necessarily, is it? surely there's not such an intellectual gap between the sexes! if _you_ can get interested----" "oh, i know." "besides, it's not a question of principles. it's the fun of electioneering." "fun!" "there's no knowing what won't interest the feminine mind," said melville, and added, "or what will." chatteris did not answer. "it's the district visiting instinct, i suppose," said melville. "they all have it. it's the canvassing. all women like to go into houses that don't belong to them." "very likely," said chatteris shortly, and failing a reply from melville, he gave way to secret meditations, it would seem still of a fairly agreeable sort. the twelve o'clock gun thudded from shornecliffe camp. "by jove!" said chatteris, and quickened his steps. * * * * * they found adeline busy amidst her papers. as they entered she pointed reproachfully, yet with the protrusion of a certain marcella-like undertone of sweetness, at the clock. the apologies of chatteris were effusive and winning, and involved no mention of the sea lady on the leas. melville delivered his books and left them already wading deeply into the details of the district organisation that the local liberal organiser had submitted. ii a little while after the return of chatteris, my cousin melville and the sea lady were under the ilex at the end of the sea garden and--disregarding parker (as every one was accustomed to do), who was in a garden chair doing some afternoon work at a proper distance--there was nobody with them at all. fred and the girls were out cycling--fred had gone with them at the sea lady's request--and miss glendower and mrs. bunting were at hythe calling diplomatically on some rather horrid local people who might be serviceable to harry in his electioneering. mr. bunting was out fishing. he was not fond of fishing, but he was in many respects an exceptionally resolute little man, and he had taken to fishing every day in the afternoon after luncheon in order to break himself of what mrs. bunting called his "ridiculous habit" of getting sea-sick whenever he went out in a boat. he said that if fishing from a boat with pieces of mussels for bait after luncheon would not break the habit nothing would, and certainly it seemed at times as if it were going to break everything that was in him. but the habit escaped. this, however, is a digression. these two, i say, were sitting in the ample shade under the evergreen oak, and melville, i imagine, was in those fine faintly patterned flannels that in the year 1899 combined correctness with ease. he was no doubt looking at the shaded face of the sea lady, framed in a frame of sunlit yellow-green lawn and black-green ilex leaves--at least so my impulse for verisimilitude conceives it--and she at first was pensive and downcast that afternoon and afterwards she was interested and looked into his eyes. either she must have suggested that he might smoke or else he asked. anyhow, his cigarettes were produced. she looked at them with an arrested gesture, and he hung for a moment, doubtful, on her gesture. "i suppose _you_--" he said. "i never learned." he glanced at parker and then met the sea lady's regard. "it's one of the things i came for," she said. he took the only course. she accepted a cigarette and examined it thoughtfully. "down there," she said, "it's just one of the things-you will understand we get nothing but saturated tobacco. some of the mermen-there's something they have picked up from the sailors. quids, i think they call it. but that's too horrid for words!" she dismissed the unpleasant topic by a movement, and lapsed into thought. my cousin clicked his match-box. she had a momentary doubt and glanced towards the house. "mrs. bunting?" she asked. several times, i understand, she asked the same thing. "she wouldn't mind--" said melville, and stopped. "she won't think it improper," he amplified, "if nobody else thinks it improper." "there's nobody else," said the sea lady, glancing at parker, and my cousin lit the match. my cousin has an indirect habit of mind. with all general and all personal things his desperation to get at them obliquely amounts almost to a passion; he could no more go straight to a crisis than a cat could to a stranger. he came off at a tangent now as he was sitting forward and scrutinising her first very creditable efforts to draw. "i just wonder," he said, "exactly what it was you _did_ come for." she smiled at him over a little jet of smoke. "why, this," she said. "and hairdressing?" "and dressing." she smiled again after a momentary hesitation. "and all this sort of thing," she said, as if she felt she had answered him perhaps a little below his deserts. her gesture indicated the house and the lawn and--my cousin melville wondered just exactly how much else. "am i doing it right?" asked the sea lady. "beautifully," said my cousin with a faint sigh in his voice. "what do you think of it?" "it was worth coming for," said the sea lady, smiling into his eyes. "but did you really just come----?" she filled in his gap. "to see what life was like on land here?... isn't that enough?" melville's cigarette had failed to light. he regarded its blighted career pensively. "life," he said, "isn't all--this sort of thing." "this sort of thing?" "sunlight. cigarette smoking. talk. looking nice." "but it's made up----" "not altogether." "for example?" "oh, _you_ know." "what?" "you know," said melville, and would not look at her. "i decline to know," she said after a little pause. "besides--" he said. "yes?" "you told mrs. bunting--" it occurred to him that he was telling tales, but that scruple came too late. "well?" "something about a soul." she made no immediate answer. he looked up and her eyes were smiling. "mr. melville," she said, innocently, "what _is_ a soul?" "well," said my cousin readily, and then paused for a space. "a soul," said he, and knocked an imaginary ash from his extinct cigarette. "a soul," he repeated, and glanced at parker. "a soul, you know," he said again, and looked at the sea lady with the air of a man who is handling a difficult matter with skilful care. "come to think of it," he said, "it's a rather complicated matter to explain----" "to a being without one?" "to any one," said my cousin melville, suddenly admitting his difficulty. he meditated upon her eyes for a moment. "besides," he said, "you know what a soul is perfectly well." "no," she answered, "i don't." "you know as well as i do." "ah! that may be different." "you came to get a soul." "perhaps i don't want one. why--if one hasn't one----?" "ah, _there_!" and my cousin shrugged his shoulders. "but really you know-it's just the generality of it that makes it hard to define." "everybody has a soul?" "every one." "except me?" "i'm not certain of that." "mrs. bunting?" "certainly." "and mr. bunting?" "every one." "has miss glendower?" "lots." the sea lady mused. she went off at a tangent abruptly. "mr. melville," she said, "what is a union of souls?" melville flicked his extinct cigarette suddenly into an elbow shape and then threw it away. the phrase may have awakened some reminiscence. "it's an extra," he said. "it's a sort of flourish.... and sometimes it's like leaving cards by footmen--a substitute for the real presence." there came a gap. he remained downcast, trying to find a way towards whatever it was that was in his mind to say. conceivably, he did not clearly know what that might be until he came to it. the sea lady abandoned an attempt to understand him in favour of a more urgent topic. "do you think miss glendower and mr. chatteris----?" melville looked up at her. he noticed she had hung on the latter name. "decidedly," he said. "it's just what they _would_ do." then he spoke again. "chatteris?" he said. "yes," said she. "i thought so," said melville. the sea lady regarded him gravely. they scrutinised each other with an unprecedented intimacy. melville was suddenly direct. it was a discovery that it seemed he ought to have made all along. he felt quite unaccountably bitter; he spoke with a twitch of the mouth and his voice had a note of accusation. "you want to talk about him." she nodded--still grave. "well, _i_ don't." he changed his note. "but i will if you wish it." "i thought you would." "oh, _you_ know," said melville, discovering his extinct cigarette was within reach of a vindictive heel. she said nothing. "well?" said melville. "i saw him first," she apologised, "some years ago." "where?" "in the south seas--near tonga." "and that is really what you came for?" this time her manner was convincing. she admitted, "yes." melville was carefully impartial. "he's sightly," he admitted, "and well-built and a decent chap--a decent chap. but i don't see why you----" he went off at a tangent. "he didn't see you----?" "oh, no." melville's pose and tone suggested a mind of extreme liberality. "i don't see why you came," he said. "nor what you mean to do. you see"--with an air of noting a trifling but valid obstacle--"there's miss glendower." "is there?" she said. "well, isn't there?" "that's just it," she said. "and besides after all, you know, why should you----?" "i admit it's unreasonable," she said. "but why reason about it? it's a matter of the imagination----" "for him?" "how should i know how it takes him? that is what i _want_ to know." melville looked her in the eyes again. "you know, you're not playing fair," he said. "to her?" "to any one." "why?" "because you are immortal--and unincumbered. because you can do everything you want to do--and we cannot. i don't know why we cannot, but we cannot. here we are, with our short lives and our little souls to save, or lose, fussing for our little concerns. and you, out of the elements, come and beckon----" "the elements have their rights," she said. and then: "the elements are the elements, you know. that is what you forget." "imagination?" "certainly. that's _the_ element. those elements of your chemists----" "yes?" "are all imagination. there isn't any other." she went on: "and all the elements of your life, the life you imagine you are living, the little things you must do, the little cares, the extraordinary little duties, the day by day, the hypnotic limitations--all these things are a fancy that has taken hold of you too strongly for you to shake off. you daren't, you mustn't, you can't. to us who watch you----" "you watch us?" "oh, yes. we watch you, and sometimes we envy you. not only for the dry air and the sunlight, and the shadows of trees, and the feeling of morning, and the pleasantness of many such things, but because your lives begin and end--because you look towards an end." she reverted to her former topic. "but you are so limited, so tied! the little time you have, you use so poorly. you begin and you end, and all the time between it is as if you were enchanted; you are afraid to do this that would be delightful to do, you must do that, though you know all the time it is stupid and disagreeable. just think of the things--even the little things--you mustn't do. up there on the leas in this hot weather all the people are sitting in stuffy ugly clothes--ever so much too much clothes, hot tight boots, you know, when they have the most lovely pink feet, some of them--we _see_,--and they are all with little to talk about and nothing to look at, and bound not to do all sorts of natural things and bound to do all sorts of preposterous things. why are they bound? why are they letting life slip by them? just as if they wouldn't all of them presently be dead! suppose you were to go up there in a bathing dress and a white cotton hat----" "it wouldn't be proper!" cried melville. "why not?" "it would be outrageous!" "but any one may see you like that on the beach!" "that's different." "it isn't different. you dream it's different. and in just the same way you dream all the other things are proper or improper or good or bad to do. because you are in a dream, a fantastic, unwholesome little dream. so small, so infinitely small! i saw you the other day dreadfully worried by a spot of ink on your sleeve--almost the whole afternoon." [illustration: "why not?"] my cousin looked distressed. she abandoned the ink-spot. "your life, i tell you, is a dream--a dream, and you can't wake out of it----" "and if so, why do you tell me?" she made no answer for a space. "why do you tell me?" he insisted. he heard the rustle of her movement as she bent towards him. she came warmly close to him. she spoke in gently confidential undertone, as one who imparts a secret that is not to be too lightly given. "because," she said, "there are better dreams." iii for a moment it seemed to melville that he had been addressed by something quite other than the pleasant lady in the bath chair before him. "but how--?" he began and stopped. he remained silent with a perplexed face. she leaned back and glanced away from him, and when at last she turned and spoke again, specific realities closed in on him once more. "why shouldn't i," she asked, "if i want to?" "shouldn't what?" "if i fancy chatteris." "one might think of obstacles," he reflected. "he's not hers," she said. "in a way, he's trying to be," said melville. "trying to be! he has to be what he is. nothing can make him hers. if you weren't dreaming you would see that." my cousin was silent. "she's not _real_," she went on. "she's a mass of fancies and vanities. she gets everything out of books. she gets herself out of a book. you can see her doing it here.... what is she seeking? what is she trying to do? all this work, all this political stuff of hers? she talks of the condition of the poor! what is the condition of the poor? a dreary tossing on the bed of existence, a perpetual fear of consequences that perpetually distresses them. lives of anxiety they lead, because they do not know what a dream the whole thing is. suppose they were not anxious and afraid.... and what does she care for the condition of the poor, after all? it is only a point of departure in her dream. in her heart she does not want their dreams to be happier, in her heart she has no passion for them, only her dream is that she should be prominently doing good, asserting herself, controlling their affairs amidst thanks and praise and blessings. _her_ dream! of serious things!--a rout of phantoms pursuing a phantom ignis fatuus--the afterglow of a mirage. vanity of vanities----" "it's real enough to her." "as real as she can make it, you know. but she isn't real herself. she begins badly." "and he, you know----" "he doesn't believe in it." "i'm not so sure." "i am--now." "he's a complicated being." "he will ravel out," said the sea lady. "i think you misjudge him about that work of his, anyhow," said melville. "he's a man rather divided against himself." he added abruptly, "we all are." he recovered himself from the generality. "it's vague, i admit, a sort of vague wish to do something decent, you know, that he has----" "a sort of vague wish," she conceded; "but----" "he means well," said melville, clinging to his proposition. "he means nothing. only very dimly he suspects----" "yes?" "what you too are beginning to suspect.... that other things may be conceivable even if they are not possible. that this life of yours is not everything. that it is not to be taken too seriously. because ... there are better dreams!" the song of the sirens was in her voice; my cousin would not look at her face. "i know nothing of any other dreams," he said. "one has oneself and this life, and that is enough to manage. what other dreams can there be? anyhow, we are in the dream--we have to accept it. besides, you know, that's going off the question. we were talking of chatteris, and why you have come for him. why should you come, why should any one outside come--into this world?" "because we are permitted to come--we immortals. and why, if we choose to do so, and taste this life that passes and continues, as rain that falls to the ground, why should we not do it? why should we abstain?" "and chatteris?" "if he pleases me." he roused himself to a titanic effort against an oppression that was coming over him. he tried to get the thing down to a definite small case, an incident, an affair of considerations. "but look here, you know," he said. "what precisely do you mean to do if you get him? you don't seriously intend to keep up the game to that extent. you don't mean--positively, in our terrestrial fashion, you know--to marry him?" the sea lady laughed at his recovery of the practical tone. "well, why not?" she asked. "and go about in a bath chair, and-no, that's not it. what _is_ it?" he looked up into her eyes, and it was like looking into deep water. down in that deep there stirred impalpable things. she smiled at him. "no!" she said, "i sha'n't marry him and go about in a bath chair. and grow old as all earthly women must. (it's the dust, i think, and the dryness of the air, and the way you begin and end.) you burn too fast, you flare and sink and die. this life of yours!--the illnesses and the growing old! when the skin wears shabby, and the light is out of the hair, and the teeth-not even for love would i face it. no.... but then you know--" her voice sank to a low whisper. "_there are better dreams._" "what dreams?" rebelled melville. "what do you mean? what are you? what do you mean by coming into this life--you who pretend to be a woman--and whispering, whispering ... to us who are in it, to us who have no escape." "but there is an escape," said the sea lady. "how?" "for some there is an escape. when the whole life rushes to a moment--" and then she stopped. now there is clearly no sense in this sentence to my mind, even from a lady of an essentially imaginary sort, who comes out of the sea. how can a whole life rush to a moment? but whatever it was she really did say, there is no doubt she left it half unsaid. he glanced up at her abrupt pause, and she was looking at the house. * * * * * "do ... ris! do ... ris! are you there?" it was mrs. bunting's voice floating athwart the lawn, the voice of the ascendant present, of invincibly sensible things. the world grew real again to melville. he seemed to wake up, to start back from some delusive trance that crept upon him. he looked at the sea lady as if he were already incredulous of the things they had said, as if he had been asleep and dreamed the talk. some light seemed to go out, some fancy faded. his eye rested upon the inscription, "flamps, bath chair proprietor," just visible under her arm. "we've got perhaps a little more serious than--" he said doubtfully, and then, "what you have been saying--did you exactly mean----?" the rustle of mrs. bunting's advance became audible, and parker moved and coughed. he was quite sure they had been "more serious than----" "another time perhaps----" had all these things really been said, or was he under some fantastic hallucination? he had a sudden thought. "where's your cigarette?" he asked. but her cigarette had ended long ago. "and what have you been talking about so long?" sang mrs. bunting, with an almost motherly hand on the back of melville's chair. "oh!" said melville, at a loss for once, and suddenly rising from his chair to face her, and then to the sea lady with an artificially easy smile, "what _have_ we been talking about?" "all sorts of things, i dare say," said mrs. bunting, in what might almost be called an arch manner. and she honoured melville with a special smile--one of those smiles that are morally almost winks. [illustration: the waiter retires amazed.] my cousin caught all the archness full in the face, and for four seconds he stared at mrs. bunting in amazement. he wanted breath. then they all laughed together, and mrs. bunting sat down pleasantly and remarked, quite audibly to herself, "as if i couldn't guess." iv i gather that after this talk melville fell into an extraordinary net of doubting. in the first place, and what was most distressing, he doubted whether this conversation could possibly have happened at all, and if it had whether his memory had not played him some trick in modifying and intensifying the import of it all. my cousin occasionally dreams conversations of so sober and probable a sort as to mingle quite perplexingly with his real experiences. was this one of these occasions? he found himself taking up and scrutinising, as it were, first this remembered sentence and then that. had she really said this thing and quite in this way? his memory of their conversation was never quite the same for two days together. had she really and deliberately foreshadowed for chatteris some obscure and mystical submergence? what intensified and complicated his doubts most, was the sea lady's subsequent serene freedom from allusion to anything that might or might not have passed. she behaved just as she had always behaved; neither an added intimacy nor that distance that follows indiscreet confidences appeared in her manner. and amidst this crop of questions arose presently quite a new set of doubts, as if he were not already sufficiently equipped. the sea lady alleged she had come to the world that lives on land, for chatteris. and then----? he had not hitherto looked ahead to see precisely what would happen to chatteris, to miss glendower, to the buntings or any one when, as seemed highly probable, chatteris was "got." there were other dreams, there was another existence, an elsewhere--and chatteris was to go there! so she said! but it came into melville's mind with a quite disproportionate force and vividness that once, long ago, he had seen a picture of a man and a mermaid, rushing downward through deep water.... could it possibly be that sort of thing in the year eighteen hundred and ninety-nine? conceivably, if she had said these things, did she mean them, and if she meant them, and this definite campaign of capture was in hand, what was an orderly, sane-living, well-dressed bachelor of the world to do? look on--until things ended in a catastrophe? one figures his face almost aged. he appears to have hovered about the house on the sandgate riviera to a scandalous extent, failing always to get a sufficiently long and intimate tête-à-tête with the sea lady to settle once for all his doubts as to what really had been said and what he had dreamed or fancied in their talk. never had he been so exceedingly disturbed as he was by the twist this talk had taken. never had his habitual pose of humorous acquiescence in life been quite so difficult to keep up. he became positively absent-minded. "you know if it's like that, it's serious," was the burden of his private mutterings. his condition was palpable even to mrs. bunting. but she misunderstood his nature. she said something. finally, and quite abruptly, he set off to london in a state of frantic determination to get out of it all. the sea lady wished him good-bye in mrs. bunting's presence as if there had never been anything unusual between them. i suppose one may contrive to understand something of his disturbance. he had made quite considerable sacrifices to the world. he had, at great pains, found his place and his way in it, he had imagined he had really "got the hang of it," as people say, and was having an interesting time. and then, you know, to encounter a voice, that subsequently insists upon haunting you with "_there are better dreams_"; to hear a tale that threatens complications, disasters, broken hearts, and not to have the faintest idea of the proper thing to do. but i do not think he would have bolted from sandgate until he had really got some more definite answer to the question, "_what_ better dreams?" until he had surprised or forced some clearer illumination from the passive invalid, if mrs. bunting one morning had not very tactfully dropped a hint. you know mrs. bunting, and you can imagine what she tactfully hinted. just at that time, what with her own girls and the glendower girls, her imagination was positively inflamed for matrimony; she was a matrimonial fanatic; she would have married anybody to anything just for the fun of doing it, and the idea of pairing off poor melville to this mysterious immortal with a scaly tail seems to have appeared to her the most natural thing in the world. _apropos_ of nothing whatever i fancy she remarked, "your opportunity is now, mr. melville." "my opportunity!" cried melville, trying madly not to understand in the face of her pink resolution. "you've a monopoly now," she cried. "but when we go back to london with her there will be ever so many people running after her." i fancy melville said something about carrying the thing too far. he doesn't remember what he did say. i don't think he even knew at the time. however, he fled back to london in august, and was there so miserably at loose ends that he had not the will to get out of the place. on this passage in the story he does not dwell, and such verisimilitude as may be, must be supplied by my imagination. i imagine him in his charmingly appointed flat,--a flat that is light without being trivial, and artistic with no want of dignity or sincerity,--finding a loss of interest in his books, a loss of beauty in the silver he (not too vehemently) collects. i imagine him wandering into that dainty little bed-room of his and around into the dressing-room, and there, rapt in a blank contemplation of the seven-and-twenty pairs of trousers (all creasing neatly in their proper stretchers) that are necessary to his conception of a wise and happy man. for every occasion he has learnt, in a natural easy progress to knowledge, the exquisitely appropriate pair of trousers, the permissible upper garment, the becoming gesture and word. he was a man who had mastered his world. and then, you know, the whisper:-"_there are better dreams._" "what dreams?" i imagine him asking, with a defensive note. whatever transparence the world might have had, whatever suggestion of something beyond there, in the sea garden at sandgate, i fancy that in melville's apartments in london it was indisputably opaque. and "damn it!" he cried, "if these dreams are for chatteris, why should she tell me? suppose i had the chance of them-whatever they are----" he reflected, with a terrible sincerity in the nature of his will. "no!" and then again, "no! "and if one mustn't have 'em, why should one know about 'em and be worried by them? if she comes to do mischief, why shouldn't she do mischief without making me an accomplice?" he walks up and down and stops at last and stares out of his window on the jaded summer traffic going haymarket way. he sees nothing of that traffic. he sees the little sea garden at sandgate and that little group of people very small and bright and something--something hanging over them. "it isn't fair on them--or me--or anybody!" then you know, quite suddenly, i imagine him swearing. i imagine him at his luncheon, a meal he usually treats with a becoming gravity. i imagine the waiter marking the kindly self-indulgence of his clean-shaven face, and advancing with that air of intimate participation the good waiter shows to such as he esteems. i figure the respectful pause, the respectful enquiry. "oh, anything!" cries melville, and the waiter retires amazed. v to add to melville's distress, as petty discomforts do add to all genuine trouble, his club-house was undergoing an operation, and was full of builders and decorators; they had gouged out its windows and gagged its hall with scaffolding, and he and his like were guests of a stranger club that had several members who blew. they seemed never to do anything but blow and sigh and rustle papers and go to sleep about the place; they were like blight-spots on the handsome plant of this host-club, and it counted for little with melville, in the state he was in, that all the fidgety breathers were persons of eminent position. but it was this temporary dislocation of his world that brought him unexpectedly into a _quasi_ confidential talk with chatteris one afternoon, for chatteris was one of the less eminent and amorphous members of this club that was sheltering melville's club. [illustration: they seemed never to do anything but blow and sigh and rustle papers.] melville had taken up _punch_--he was in that mood when a man takes up anything--and was reading, he did not know exactly what. presently he sighed, looked up, and discovered chatteris entering the room. he was surprised to see chatteris, startled and just faintly alarmed, and chatteris it was evident was surprised and disconcerted to see him. chatteris stood in as awkward an attitude as he was capable of, staring unfavourably, and for a moment or so he gave no sign of recognition. then he nodded and came forward reluctantly. his every movement suggested the will without the wit to escape. "you here?" he said. "what are you doing away from hythe at this time?" asked melville. "i came here to write a letter," said chatteris. he looked about him rather helplessly. then he sat down beside melville and demanded a cigarette. suddenly he plunged into intimacy. "it is doubtful whether i shall contest hythe," he remarked. "yes?" "yes." he lit his cigarette. "would you?" he asked. "not a bit of it," said melville. "but then it's not my line." "is it mine?" "isn't it a little late in the day to drop it?" said melville. "you've been put up for it now. every one's at work. miss glendower----" "i know," said chatteris. "well?" "i don't seem to want to go on." "my dear man!" "it's a bit of overwork perhaps. i'm off colour. things have gone flat. that's why i'm up here." he did a very absurd thing. he threw away a quarter-smoked cigarette and almost immediately demanded another. "you've been a little immoderate with your statistics," said melville. chatteris said something that struck melville as having somehow been said before. "election, progress, good of humanity, public spirit. none of these things interest me really," he said. "at least, not just now." melville waited. "one gets brought up in an atmosphere in which it's always being whispered that one should go for a career. you learn it at your mother's knee. they never give you time to find out what you really want, they keep on shoving you at that. they form your character. they rule your mind. they rush you into it." "they didn't rush me," said melville. "they rushed me, anyhow. and here i am!" "you don't want a career?" "well-look what it is." "oh! if you look at what things are!" "first of all, the messing about to get into the house. these confounded parties mean nothing--absolutely nothing. they aren't even decent factions. you blither to damned committees of damned tradesmen whose sole idea for this world is to get overpaid for their self-respect; you whisper and hobnob with local solicitors and get yourself seen about with them; you ask about the charities and institutions, and lunch and chatter and chum with every conceivable form of human conceit and pushfulness and trickery----" he broke off. "it isn't as if _they_ were up to anything! they're working in their way, just as you are working in your way. it's the same game with all of them. they chase a phantom gratification, they toil and quarrel and envy, night and day, in the perpetual attempt to persuade themselves in spite of everything that they are real and a success----" he stopped and smoked. melville was spiteful. "yes," he admitted, "but i thought _your_ little movement was to be something more than party politics and self-advancement----?" he left his sentence interrogatively incomplete. "the condition of the poor," he said. "well?" said chatteris, regarding him with a sort of stony admission in his blue eyes. melville dodged the look. "at sandgate," he said, "there was, you know, a certain atmosphere of belief----" "i know," said chatteris for the second time. "that's the devil of it!" said chatteris after a pause. "if i don't believe in the game i'm playing, if i'm left high and dry on this shoal, with the tide of belief gone past me, it isn't _my_ planning, anyhow. i know the decent thing i ought to do. i mean to do it; in the end i mean to do it; i'm talking in this way to relieve my mind. i've started the game and i must see it out; i've put my hand to the plough and i mustn't go back. that's why i came to london--to get it over with myself. it was running up against you, set me off. you caught me at the crisis." "ah!" said melville. "but for all that, the thing is as i said--none of these things interest me really. it won't alter the fact that i am committed to fight a phantom election about nothing in particular, for a party that's been dead ten years. and if the ghosts win, go into the parliament as a constituent spectre.... there it is--as a mental phenomenon!" he reiterated his cardinal article. "the interest is dead," he said, "the will has no soul." he became more critical. he bent a little closer to melville's ear. "it isn't really that i don't believe. when i say i don't believe in these things i go too far. i do. i know, the electioneering, the intriguing is a means to an end. there is work to be done, sound work, and important work. only----" melville turned an eye on him over his cigarette end. chatteris met it, seemed for a moment to cling to it. he became absurdly confidential. he was evidently in the direst need of a confidential ear. "i don't want to do it. when i sit down to it, square myself down in the chair, you know, and say, now for the rest of my life this is it--this is your life, chatteris; there comes a sort of terror, melville." "h'm," said melville, and turned away. then he turned on chatteris with the air of a family physician, and tapped his shoulder three times as he spoke. "you've had too much statistics, chatteris," he said. he let that soak in. then he turned about towards his interlocutor, and toyed with a club ash tray. "it's every day has overtaken you," he said. "you can't see the wood for the trees. you forget the spacious design you are engaged upon, in the heavy details of the moment. you are like a painter who has been working hard upon something very small and exacting in a corner. you want to step back and look at the whole thing." "no," said chatteris, "that isn't quite it." melville indicated that he knew better. "i keep on, stepping back and looking at it," said chatteris. "just lately i've scarcely done anything else. i'll admit it's a spacious and noble thing--political work done well--only-i admire it, but it doesn't grip my imagination. that's where the trouble comes in." "what _does_ grip your imagination?" asked melville. he was absolutely certain the sea lady had been talking this paralysis into chatteris, and he wanted to see just how far she had gone. "for example," he tested, "are there--by any chance--other dreams?" chatteris gave no sign at the phrase. melville dismissed his suspicion. "what do you mean--other dreams?" asked chatteris. "is there conceivably another way--another sort of life--some other aspect----?" "it's out of the question," said chatteris. he added, rather remarkably, "adeline's awfully good." my cousin melville acquiesced silently in adeline's goodness. "all this, you know, is a mood. my life is made for me--and it's a very good life. it's better than i deserve." "heaps," said melville. "much," said chatteris defiantly. "ever so much," endorsed melville. "let's talk of other things," said chatteris. "it's what even the street boys call _mawbid_ nowadays to doubt for a moment the absolute final all-this-and-nothing-else-in-the-worldishness of whatever you happen to be doing." my cousin melville, however, could think of no other sufficiently interesting topic. "you left them all right at sandgate?" he asked, after a pause. "except little bunting." "seedy?" "been fishing." "of course. breezes and the spring tides.... and miss waters?" chatteris shot a suspicious glance at him. he affected the offhand style. "_she's_ quite well," he said. "looks just as charming as ever." "she really means that canvassing?" "she's spoken of it again." "she'll do a lot for you," said melville, and left a fine wide pause. chatteris assumed the tone of a man who gossips. "who is this miss waters?" he asked. "a very charming person," said melville and said no more. chatteris waited and his pretence of airy gossip vanished. he became very much in earnest. "look here," he said. "who is this miss waters?" "how should _i_ know?" prevaricated melville. "well, you do know. and the others know. who is she?" melville met his eyes. "won't they tell you?" he asked. "that's just it," said chatteris. "why do you want to know?" "why shouldn't i know?" "there's a sort of promise to keep it dark." "keep _what_ dark?" my cousin gestured. "it can't be anything wrong?" my cousin made no sign. "she may have had experiences?" my cousin reflected a moment on the possibilities of the deep-sea life. "she has had them," he said. "i don't care, if she has." there came a pause. "look here, melville," said chatteris, "i want to know this. unless it's a thing to be specially kept from me.... i don't like being among a lot of people who treat me as an outsider. what is this something about miss waters?" "what does miss glendower say?" "vague things. she doesn't like her and she won't say why. and mrs. bunting goes about with discretion written all over her. and she herself looks at you-and that maid of hers looks-the thing's worrying me." "why don't you ask the lady herself?" "how can i, till i know what it is? confound it! i'm asking _you_ plainly enough." "well," said melville, and at the moment he had really decided to tell chatteris. but he hung upon the manner of presentation. he thought in the moment to say, "the truth is, she is a mermaid." then as instantly he perceived how incredible this would be. he always suspected chatteris of a capacity for being continental and romantic. the man might fly out at him for saying such a thing of a lady. a dreadful doubt fell upon melville. as you know, he had never seen that tail with his own eyes. in these surroundings there came to him such an incredulity of the sea lady as he had not felt even when first mrs. bunting told him of her. all about him was an atmosphere of solid reality, such as one can breathe only in a first-class london club. everywhere ponderous arm-chairs met the eye. there were massive tables in abundance and match-boxes of solid rock. the matches were of some specially large, heavy sort. on a ponderous elephant-legged green baize table near at hand were several copies of the _times_, the current _punch_, an inkpot of solid brass, and a paper weight of lead. _there are other dreams!_ it seemed impossible. the breathing of an eminent person in a chair in the far corner became very distinct in that interval. it was heavy and resolute like the sound of a stone-mason's saw. it insisted upon itself as the touchstone of reality. it seemed to say that at the first whisper of a thing so utterly improbable as a mermaid it would snort and choke. "you wouldn't believe me if i told you," said melville. "well, tell me--anyhow." my cousin looked at an empty chair beside him. it was evidently stuffed with the very best horse-hair that money could procure, stuffed with infinite skill and an almost religious care. it preached in the open invitation of its expanded arms that man does not live by bread alone--inasmuch as afterwards he needs a nap. an utterly dreamless chair! mermaids? he felt that he was after all quite possibly the victim of a foolish delusion, hypnotised by mrs. bunting's beliefs. was there not some more plausible interpretation, some phrase that would lie out bridgeways from the plausible to the truth? "it's no good," he groaned at last. chatteris had been watching him furtively. "oh, i don't care a hang," he said, and shied his second cigarette into the massively decorated fireplace. "it's no affair of mine." then quite abruptly he sprang to his feet and gesticulated with an ineffectual hand. "you needn't," he said, and seemed to intend to say many regrettable things. meanwhile until his intention ripened he sawed the air with his ineffectual hand. i fancy he ended by failing to find a thing sufficiently regrettable to express the pungency of the moment. he flung about and went towards the door. "don't!" he said to the back of the newspaper of the breathing member. "if you don't want to," he said to the respectful waiter at the door. the hall-porter heard that he didn't care--he was damned if he did! "he might be one of these here guests," said the hall-porter, greatly shocked. "that's what comes of lettin' 'em in so young." vi melville overcame an impulse to follow him. "confound the fellow!" said he. and then as the whole outburst came into focus, he said with still more emphasis, "confound the fellow!" he stood up and became aware that the member who had been asleep was now regarding him with malevolent eyes. he perceived it was a hard and invincible malevolence, and that no petty apologetics of demeanour could avail against it. he turned about and went towards the door. the interview had done my cousin good. his misery and distress had lifted. he was presently bathed in a profound moral indignation, and that is the very antithesis of doubt and unhappiness. the more he thought it over, the more his indignation with chatteris grew. that sudden unreasonable outbreak altered all the perspectives of the case. he wished very much that he could meet chatteris again and discuss the whole matter from a new footing. "think of it!" he thought so vividly and so verbally that he was nearly talking to himself as he went along. it shaped itself into an outspoken discourse in his mind. "was there ever a more ungracious, ungrateful, unreasonable creature than this same chatteris? he was the spoiled child of fortune; things came to him, things were given to him, his very blunders brought more to him than other men's successes. out of every thousand men, nine hundred and ninety-nine might well find food for envy in this way luck had served him. many a one has toiled all his life and taken at last gratefully the merest fraction of all that had thrust itself upon this insatiable thankless young man. even i," thought my cousin, "might envy him--in several ways. and then, at the mere first onset of duty, nay!--at the mere first whisper of restraint, this insubordination, this protest and flight! "think!" urged my cousin, "of the common lot of men. think of the many who suffer from hunger----" (it was a painful socialistic sort of line to take, but in his mood of moral indignation my cousin pursued it relentlessly.) "think of many who suffer from hunger, who lead lives of unremitting toil, who go fearful, who go squalid, and withal strive, in a sort of dumb, resolute way, their utmost to do their duty, or at any rate what they think to be their duty. think of the chaste poor women in the world! think again of the many honest souls who aspire to the service of their kind, and are so hemmed about and preoccupied that they may not give it! and then this pitiful creature comes, with his mental gifts, his gifts of position and opportunity, the stimulus of great ideas, and a _fiancée_, who is not only rich and beautiful--she _is_ beautiful!--but also the best of all possible helpers for him. and he turns away. it isn't good enough. it takes no hold upon his imagination, if you please. it isn't beautiful enough for him, and that's the plain truth of the matter. what does the man _want_? what does he expect?..." my cousin's moral indignation took him the whole length of piccadilly, and along by rotten row, and along the flowery garden walks almost into kensington high street, and so around by the serpentine to his home, and it gave him such an appetite for dinner as he had not had for many days. life was bright for him all that evening, and he sat down at last, at two o'clock in the morning, before a needlessly lit, delightfully fusillading fire in his flat to smoke one sound cigar before he went to bed. "no," he said suddenly, "i am not _mawbid_ either. i take the gifts the gods will give me. i try to make myself happy, and a few other people happy, too, to do a few little duties decently, and that is enough for me. i don't look too deeply into things, and i don't look too widely about things. a few old simple ideals---"h'm. "chatteris is a dreamer, with an impossible, extravagant discontent. what does he dream of?... three parts he is a dreamer and the fourth part--spoiled child." "dreamer...." "other dreams...." "what other dreams could she mean?" my cousin fell into profound musings. then he started, looked about him, saw the time by his rathbone clock, got up suddenly and went to bed. chapter the seventh the crisis i the crisis came about a week from that time--i say about because of melville's conscientious inexactness in these matters. and so far as the crisis goes, i seem to get melville at his best. he was keenly interested, keenly observant, and his more than average memory took some excellent impressions. to my mind, at any rate, two at least of these people come out, fuller and more convincingly than anywhere else in this painfully disinterred story. he has given me here an adeline i seem to believe in, and something much more like chatteris than any of the broken fragments i have had to go upon, and amplify and fudge together so far. and for all such transient lucidities in this mysterious story, the reader no doubt will echo my heaven be thanked! melville was called down to participate in the crisis at sandgate by a telegram from mrs. bunting, and his first exponent of the situation was fred bunting. "_come down. urgent. please_," was the irresistible message from mrs. bunting. my cousin took the early train and arrived at sandgate in the forenoon. he was told that mrs. bunting was upstairs with miss glendower and that she implored him to wait until she could leave her charge. "miss glendower not well, then?" said melville. "no, sir, not at all well," said the housemaid, evidently awaiting a further question. "where are the others?" he asked casually. the three younger young ladies had gone to hythe, said the housemaid, with a marked omission of the sea lady. melville has an intense dislike of questioning servants on points at issue, so he asked nothing at all concerning miss waters. this general absence of people from the room of familiar occupation conveyed the same suggested warning of crisis as the telegram. the housemaid waited an instant longer and withdrew. he stood for a moment in the drawing-room and then walked out upon the veranda. he perceived a richly caparisoned figure advancing towards him. it was fred bunting. he had been taking advantage of the general desertion of home to bathe from the house. he was wearing an umbrageous white cotton hat and a striped blanket, and a more aggressively manly pipe than any fully adult male would ever dream of smoking, hung from the corner of his mouth. "hello!" he said. "the mater sent for you?" melville admitted the truth of this theory. "there's ructions," said fred, and removed the pipe. the act offered conversation. "where's miss waters?" "gone." "back?" "lord, no! catch her! she's gone to lummidge's hotel. with her maid. took a suite." "why----" "the mater made a row with her." "whatever for?" "harry." my cousin stared at the situation. "it broke out," said fred. "what broke out?" "the row. harry's gone daft on her, addy says." "on miss waters?" "rather. mooney. didn't care for his electioneering--didn't care for his ordinary nourishment. loose ends. didn't mention it to adeline, but she began to see it. asked questions. next day, went off. london. she asked what was up. three days' silence. then--wrote to her." fred intensified all this by raising his eyebrows, pulling down the corners of his mouth and nodding portentously. "eh?" he said, and then to make things clearer: "wrote a letter." "he didn't write to her about miss waters?" "don't know what he wrote about. don't suppose he mentioned her name, but i dare say he made it clear enough. all i know is that everything in the house felt like elastic pulled tighter than it ought to be for two whole days--everybody in a sort of complicated twist--and then there was a snap. all that time addy was writing letters to him and tearing 'em up, and no one could quite make it out. everyone looked blue except the sea lady. she kept her own lovely pink. and at the end of that time the mater began asking things, adeline chucked writing, gave the mater half a hint, mater took it all in in an instant and the thing burst." "miss glendower didn't----?" "no, the mater did. put it pretty straight too--as the mater can.... _she_ didn't deny it. said she couldn't help herself, and that he was as much hers as adeline's. i _heard_ that," said fred shamelessly. "pretty thick, eh?--considering he's engaged. and the mater gave it her pretty straight. said, 'i've been very much deceived in you, miss waters--very much indeed.' i heard her...." "and then?" "asked her to go. said she'd requited us ill for taking her up when nobody but a fisherman would have looked at her." "she said that?" "well, words to that effect." "and miss waters went?" "in a first-class cab, maid and boxes in another, all complete. perfect lady.... couldn't have believed if i hadn't seen it--the tail, i mean." "and miss glendower?" "addy? oh, she's been going it. comes downstairs and does the pale-faced heroine and goes upstairs and does the broken-hearted part. _i_ know. it's all very well. you never had sisters. you know----" fred held his pipe elaborately out of the way and protruded his face to a confidential nearness. "i believe they half like it," said fred, in a confidential half whisper. "such a go, you know. mabel pretty near as bad. and the girls. all making the very most they can of it. me! i think chatteris was the only man alive to hear 'em. _i_ couldn't get up emotion as they do, if my feet were being flayed. cheerful home, eh? for holidays." "where's--the principal gentleman?" asked melville a little grimly. "in london?" "unprincipled gentleman, i call him," said fred. "he's stopping down here at the métropole. stuck." "down here? stuck?" "rather. stuck and set about." my cousin tried for sidelights. "what's his attitude?" he asked. "slump," said fred with intensity. "this little blow-off has rather astonished him," he explained. "when he wrote to say that the election didn't interest him for a bit, but he hoped to pull around----" "you said you didn't know what he wrote." "i do that much," said fred. "he no more thought they'd have spotted that it meant miss waters than a baby. but women are so thundering sharp, you know. they're born spotters. how it'll all end----" "but why has he come to the métropole?" "middle of the stage, i suppose," said fred. "what's his attitude?" "says he's going to see adeline and explain everything--and doesn't do it.... puts it off. and adeline, as far as i can gather, says that if he doesn't come down soon, she's hanged if she'll see him, much as her heart may be broken, and all that, if she doesn't. you know." "naturally," said melville, rather inconsecutively. "and he doesn't?" "doesn't stir." "does he see--the other lady?" "we don't know. we can't watch him. but if he does he's clever----" "why?" "there's about a hundred blessed relatives of his in the place--came like crows for a corpse. i never saw such a lot. talk about a man of good old family--it's decaying! i never saw such a high old family in my life. aunts they are chiefly." "aunts?" "aunts. say, they've rallied round him. how they got hold of it i don't know. like vultures. unless the mater-but they're here. they're all at him--using their influence with him, threatening to cut off legacies and all that. there's one old girl at bate's, lady poynting mallow--least bit horsey, but about as all right as any of 'em--who's been down here twice. seems a trifle disappointed in adeline. and there's two aunts at wampach's--you know the sort that stop at wampach's--regular hothouse flowers--a watering-potful of real icy cold water would kill both of 'em. and there's one come over from the continent, short hair, short skirts--regular terror--she's at the pavilion. they're all chasing round saying, 'where is this woman-fish sort of thing? let me peek!'" "does that constitute the hundred relatives?" "practically. the wampachers are sending for a bishop who used to be his schoolmaster----" "no stone unturned, eh?" "none." "and has he found out yet----" "that she's a mermaid? i don't believe he has. the pater went up to tell him. of course, he was a bit out of breath and embarrassed. and chatteris cut him down. 'at least let me hear nothing against her,' he said. and the pater took that and came away. good old pater. eh?" "and the aunts?" "they're taking it in. mainly they grasp the fact that he's going to jilt adeline, just as he jilted the american girl. the mermaid side they seem to boggle at. old people like that don't take to a new idea all at once. the wampach ones are shocked--but curious. they don't believe for a moment she really is a mermaid, but they want to know all about it. and the one down at the pavilion simply said, 'bosh! how can she breathe under water? tell me that, mrs. bunting. she's some sort of person you have picked up, i don't know how, but mermaid she _cannot_ be.' they'd be all tremendously down on the mater, i think, for picking her up, if it wasn't that they can't do without her help to bring addy round again. pretty mess all round, eh?" "i suppose the aunts will tell him?" "what?" "about the tail." "i suppose they will." "and what then?" "heaven knows! just as likely they won't." my cousin meditated on the veranda tiles for a space. "it amuses me," said fred bunting. "look here," said my cousin melville, "what am i supposed to do? why have i been asked to come?" "i don't know. stir it up a bit, i expect. everybody do a bit--like the christmas pudding." "but--" said melville. [illustration: adjusting the folds of his blanket to a greater dignity.] "i've been bathing," said fred. "nobody asked me to take a hand and i didn't. it won't be a good pudding without me, but there you are! there's only one thing i can see to do----" "it might be the right thing. what is it?" "punch chatteris's head." "i don't see how that would help matters." "oh, it wouldn't help matters," said fred, adding with an air of conclusiveness, "there it is!" then adjusting the folds of his blanket to a greater dignity, and replacing his long extinct large pipe between his teeth, he went on his way. the tail of his blanket followed him reluctantly through the door. his bare feet padded across the hall and became inaudible on the carpet of the stairs. "fred!" said melville, going doorward with a sudden afterthought for fuller particulars. but fred had gone. instead, mrs. bunting appeared. ii she appeared with traces of recent emotion. "i telegraphed," she said. "we are in dreadful trouble." "miss waters, i gather----" "she's gone." she went towards the bell and stopped. "they'll get luncheon as usual," she said. "you will be wanting your luncheon." she came towards him with rising hands. "you can _not_ imagine," she said. "that poor child!" "you must tell me," said melville. "i simply do not know what to do. i don't know where to turn." she came nearer to him. she protested. "all that i did, mr. melville, i did for the best. i saw there was trouble. i could see that i had been deceived, and i stood it as long as i could. i _had_ to speak at last." my cousin by leading questions and interrogative silences developed her story a little. "and every one," she said, "blames me. every one." "everybody blames everybody who does anything, in affairs of this sort," said melville. "you mustn't mind that." "i'll try not to," she said bravely. "_you_ know, mr. melville----" he laid his hand on her shoulder for a moment. "yes," he said very impressively, and i think mrs. bunting felt better. "we all look to you," she said. "i don't know what i should do without you." "that's it," said melville. "how do things stand? what am i to do?" "go to him," said mrs. bunting, "and put it all right." "but suppose--" began melville doubtfully. "go to her. make her see what it would mean for him and all of us." he tried to get more definite instructions. "don't make difficulties," implored mrs. bunting. "think of that poor girl upstairs. think of us all." "exactly," said melville, thinking of chatteris and staring despondently out of the window. "bunting, i gather----" "it is you or no one," said mrs. bunting, sailing over his unspoken words. "fred is too young, and randolph--! he's not diplomatic. he--he hectors." "does he?" exclaimed melville. "you should see him abroad. often--many times i have had to interfere.... no, it is you. you know harry so well. he trusts you. you can say things to him--no one else could say." "that reminds me. does _he_ know----" "we don't know. how can we know? we know he is infatuated, that is all. he is up there in folkestone, and she is in folkestone, and they may be meeting----" my cousin sought counsel with himself. "say you will go?" said mrs. bunting, with a hand upon his arm. "i'll go," said melville, "but i don't see what i can do!" and mrs. bunting clasped his hand in both of her own plump shapely hands and said she knew all along that he would, and that for coming down so promptly to her telegram she would be grateful to him so long as she had a breath to draw, and then she added, as if it were part of the same remark, that he must want his luncheon. he accepted the luncheon proposition in an incidental manner and reverted to the question in hand. "do you know what his attitude----" "he has written only to addy." "it isn't as if he had brought about this crisis?" "it was addy. he went away and something in his manner made her write and ask him the reason why. so soon as she had his letter saying he wanted to rest from politics for a little, that somehow he didn't seem to find the interest in life he thought it deserved, she divined everything----" "everything? yes, but just what _is_ everything?" "that _she_ had led him on." "miss waters?" "yes." my cousin reflected. so that was what they considered to be everything! "i wish i knew just where he stood," he said at last, and followed mrs. bunting luncheonward. in the course of that meal, which was _tête-à-tête_, it became almost unsatisfactorily evident what a great relief melville's consent to interview chatteris was to mrs. bunting. indeed, she seemed to consider herself relieved from the greater portion of her responsibility in the matter, since melville was bearing her burden. she sketched out her defence against the accusations that had no doubt been levelled at her, explicitly and implicitly. "how was _i_ to know?" she asked, and she told over again the story of that memorable landing, but with new, extenuating details. it was adeline herself who had cried first, "she must be saved!" mrs. bunting made a special point of that. "and what else was there for me to do?" she asked. and as she talked, the problem before my cousin assumed graver and yet graver proportions. he perceived more and more clearly the complexity of the situation with which he was entrusted. in the first place it was not at all clear that miss glendower was willing to receive back her lover except upon terms, and the sea lady, he was quite sure, did not mean to release him from any grip she had upon him. they were preparing to treat an elemental struggle as if it were an individual case. it grew more and more evident to him how entirely mrs. bunting overlooked the essentially abnormal nature of the sea lady, how absolutely she regarded the business as a mere every-day vacillation, a commonplace outbreak of that jilting spirit which dwells, covered deep, perhaps, but never entirely eradicated, in the heart of man; and how confidently she expected him, with a little tactful remonstrance and pressure, to restore the _status quo ante_. as for chatteris!--melville shook his head at the cheese, and answered mrs. bunting abstractedly. iii "she wants to speak to you," said mrs. bunting, and melville with a certain trepidation went upstairs. he went up to the big landing with the seats, to save adeline the trouble of coming down. she appeared dressed in a black and violet tea gown with much lace, and her dark hair was done with a simple carefulness that suited it. she was pale, and her eyes showed traces of tears, but she had a certain dignity that differed from her usual bearing in being quite unconscious. she gave him a limp hand and spoke in an exhausted voice. "you know--all?" she asked. "all the outline, anyhow." "why has he done this to me?" melville looked profoundly sympathetic through a pause. "i feel," she said, "that it isn't coarseness." "certainly not," said melville. "it is some mystery of the imagination that i cannot understand. i should have thought--his career at any rate--would have appealed...." she shook her head and regarded a pot of ferns fixedly for a space. "he has written to you?" asked melville. "three times," she said, looking up. melville hesitated to ask the extent of that correspondence, but she left no need for that. "i had to ask him," she said. "he kept it all from me, and i had to force it from him before he would tell." "tell!" said melville, "what?" "what he felt for her and what he felt for me." "but did he----?" "he has made it clearer. but still even now. no, i don't understand." she turned slowly and watched melville's face as she spoke: "you know, mr. melville, that this has been an enormous shock to me. i suppose i never really knew him. i suppose i--idealised him. i thought he cared for--our work at any rate.... he _did_ care for our work. he believed in it. surely he believed in it." "he does," said melville. "and then-but how can he?" "he is--he is a man with rather a strong imagination." "or a weak will?" "relatively--yes." "it is so strange," she sighed. "it is so inconsistent. it is like a child catching at a new toy. do you know, mr. melville"--she hesitated--"all this has made me feel old. i feel very much older, very much wiser than he is. i cannot help it. i am afraid it is for all women ... to feel that sometimes." she reflected profoundly. "for _all_ women-the child, man! i see now just what sarah grand meant by that." she smiled a wan smile. "i feel just as if he had been a naughty child. and i--i worshipped him, mr. melville," she said, and her voice quivered. my cousin coughed and turned about to stare hard out of the window. he was, he perceived, much more shockingly inadequate even than he had expected to be. "if i thought she could make him happy!" she said presently, leaving a hiatus of generous self-sacrifice. "the case is--complicated," said melville. her voice went on, clear and a little high, resigned, impenetrably assured. "but she would not. all his better side, all his serious side-she would miss it and ruin it all." "does he--" began melville and repented of the temerity of his question. "yes?" she said. "does he--ask to be released?" "no.... he wants to come back to me." "and you----" "he doesn't come." "but do you--do you want him back?" "how can i say, mr. melville? he does not say certainly even that he wants to come back." my cousin melville looked perplexed. he lived on the superficies of emotion, and these complexities in matters he had always assumed were simple, put him out. "there are times," she said, "when it seems to me that my love for him is altogether dead.... think of the disillusionment--the shock--the discovery of such weakness." my cousin lifted his eyebrows and shook his head in agreement. "his feet--to find his feet were of clay!" there came a pause. "it seems as if i have never loved him. and then--and then i think of all the things that still might be." her voice made him look up, and he saw that her mouth was set hard and tears were running down her cheeks. it occurred to my cousin, he says, that he would touch her hand in a sympathetic manner, and then it occurred to him that he wouldn't. her words rang in his thoughts for a space, and then he said somewhat tardily, "he may still be all those things." "i suppose he may," she said slowly and without colour. the weeping moment had passed. "what is she?" she changed abruptly. "what is this being, who has come between him and all the realities of life? what is there about her--? and why should i have to compete with her, because he--because he doesn't know his own mind?" "for a man," said melville, "to know his own mind is--to have exhausted one of the chief interests in life. after that--! a cultivated extinct volcano--if ever it was a volcano." he reflected egotistically for a space. then with a secret start he came back to consider her. "what is there," she said, with that deliberate attempt at clearness which was one of her antipathetic qualities for melville--"what is there that she has, that she offers, that _i_----?" melville winced at this deliberate proposal of appalling comparisons. all the catlike quality in his soul came to his aid. he began to edge away, and walk obliquely and generally to shirk the issue. "my dear miss glendower," he said, and tried to make that seem an adequate reply. "what _is_ the difference?" she insisted. "there are impalpable things," waived melville. "they are above reason and beyond describing." "but you," she urged, "you take an attitude, you must have an impression. why don't you-don't you see, mr. melville, this is very"--her voice caught for a moment--"very vital for me. it isn't kind of you, if you have impressions-i'm sorry, mr. melville, if i seem to be trying to get too much from you. i--i want to know." it came into melville's head for a moment that this girl had something in her, perhaps, that was just a little beyond his former judgments. "i must admit, i have a sort of impression," he said. "you are a man; you know him; you know all sorts of things--all sorts of ways of looking at things, i don't know. if you could go so far--as to be frank." "well," said melville and stopped. she hung over him as it were, as a tense silence. "there _is_ a difference," he admitted, and still went unhelped. "how can i put it? i think in certain ways you contrast with her, in a way that makes things easier for her. he has--i know the thing sounds like cant, only you know, _he_ doesn't plead it in defence--he has a temperament, to which she sometimes appeals more than you do." "yes, i know, but how?" "well----" "tell me." "you are austere. you are restrained. life--for a man like chatteris--is schooling. he has something--something perhaps more worth having than most of us have--but i think at times--it makes life harder for him than it is for a lot of us. life comes at him, with limitations and regulations. he knows his duty well enough. and you-you mustn't mind what i say too much, miss glendower--i may be wrong." "go on," she said, "go on." "you are too much--the agent general of his duty." "but surely!--what else----?" "i talked to him in london and then i thought he was quite in the wrong. since that i've thought all sorts of things--even that you might be in the wrong. in certain minor things." "don't mind my vanity now," she cried. "tell me." "you see you have defined things--very clearly. you have made it clear to him what you expect him to be, and what you expect him to do. it is like having built a house in which he is to live. for him, to go to her is like going out of a house, a very fine and dignified house, i admit, into something larger, something adventurous and incalculable. she is--she has an air of being--_natural_. she is as lax and lawless as the sunset, she is as free and familiar as the wind. she doesn't--if i may put it in this way--she doesn't love and respect him when he is this, and disapprove of him highly when he is that; she takes him altogether. she has the quality of the open sky, of the flight of birds, of deep tangled places, she has the quality of the high sea. that i think is what she is for him, she is the great outside. you--you have the quality----" he hesitated. "go on," she insisted. "let us get the meaning." "of an edifice.... i don't sympathise with him," said melville. "i am a tame cat and i should scratch and mew at the door directly i got outside of things. i don't want to go out. the thought scares me. but he is different." "yes," she said, "he is different." for a time it seemed that melville's interpretation had hold of her. she stood thoughtful. slowly other aspects of the thing came into his mind. "of course," she said, thinking as she looked at him. "yes. yes. that is the impression. that is the quality. but in reality-there are other things in the world beside effects and impressions. after all, that is--an analogy. it is pleasant to go out of houses and dwellings into the open air, but most of us, nearly all of us must live in houses." "decidedly," said melville. "he cannot-what can he do with her? how can he live with her? what life could they have in common?" "it's a case of attraction," said melville, "and not of plans." "after all," she said, "he must come back--if i let him come back. he may spoil everything now; he may lose his election and be forced to start again, lower and less hopefully; he may tear his heart to pieces----" she stopped at a sob. "miss glendower," said melville abruptly. "i don't think you quite understand." "understand what?" "you think he cannot marry this--this being who has come among us?" "how could he?" "no--he couldn't. you think his imagination has wandered away from you--to something impossible. that generally, in an aimless way, he has cut himself up for nothing, and made an inordinate fool of himself, and that it's simply a business of putting everything back into place again." he paused and she said nothing. but her face was attentive. "what you do not understand," he went on, "what no one seems to understand, is that she comes----" "out of the sea." "out of some other world. she comes, whispering that this life is a phantom life, unreal, flimsy, limited, casting upon everything a spell of disillusionment----" "so that _he_----" "yes, and then she whispers, 'there are better dreams!'" the girl regarded him in frank perplexity. "she hints of these vague better dreams, she whispers of a way----" "_what_ way?" "i do not know what way. but it is something--something that tears at the very fabric of this daily life." "you mean----?" "she is a mermaid, she is a thing of dreams and desires, a siren, a whisper and a seduction. she will lure him with her----" he stopped. "where?" she whispered. "into the deeps." "the deeps?" they hung upon a long pause. melville sought vagueness with infinite solicitude, and could not find it. he blurted out at last: "there can be but one way out of this dream we are all dreaming, you know." "and that way?" "that way--" began melville and dared not say it. "you mean," she said, with a pale face, half awakened to a new thought, "the way is----?" melville shirked the word. he met her eyes and nodded weakly. "but how--?" she asked. "at any rate"--he said hastily, seeking some palliative phrase--"at any rate, if she gets him, this little world of yours-there will be no coming back for him, you know." "no coming back?" she said. "no coming back," said melville. "but are you sure?" she doubted. "sure?" "that it is so?" "that desire is desire, and the deep the deep--yes." "i never thought--" she began and stopped. "mr. melville," she said, "you know i don't understand. i thought--i scarcely know what i thought. i thought he was trivial and foolish to let his thoughts go wandering. i agreed--i see your point--as to the difference in our effect upon him. but this--this suggestion that for him she may be something determining and final-after all, she----" "she is nothing," he said. "she is the hand that takes hold of him, the shape that stands for things unseen." "what things unseen?" my cousin shrugged his shoulders. "something we never find in life," he said. "something we are always seeking." "but what?" she asked. melville made no reply. she scrutinised his face for a time, and then looked out at the sunlight again. "do you want him back?" he said. "i don't know." "do you want him back?" "i feel as if i had never wanted him before." "and now?" "yes.... but--if he will not come back?" "he will not come back," said melville, "for the work." "i know." "he will not come back for his self-respect--or any of those things." "no." "those things, you know, are only fainter dreams. all the palace you have made for him is a dream. but----" "yes?" "he might come back--" he said, and looked at her and stopped. he tells me he had some vague intention of startling her, rousing her, wounding her to some display of romantic force, some insurgence of passion, that might yet win chatteris back, and then in that moment, and like a blow, it came to him how foolish such a fancy had been. there she stood impenetrably herself, limitedly intelligent, well-meaning, imitative, and powerless. her pose, her face, suggested nothing but a clear and reasonable objection to all that had come to her, a critical antagonism, a steady opposition. and then, amazingly, she changed. she looked up, and suddenly held out both her hands, and there was something in her eyes that he had never seen before. melville took her hands mechanically, and for a second or so they stood looking with a sort of discovery into each other's eyes. "tell him," she said, with an astounding perfection of simplicity, "to come back to me. there can be no other thing than what i am. tell him to come back to me!" "and----?" "tell him _that_." "forgiveness?" "no! tell him i want him. if he will not come for that he will not come at all. if he will not come back for that"--she halted for a moment--"i do not want him. no! i do not want him. he is not mine and he may go." his passive hold of her hands became a pressure. then they dropped apart again. "you are very good to help us," she said as he turned to go. he looked at her. "you are very good to help me," she said, and then: "tell him whatever you like if only he will come back to me!... no! tell him what i have said." he saw she had something more to say, and stopped. "you know, mr. melville, all this is like a book newly opened to me. are you sure----?" "sure?" "sure of what you say--sure of what she is to him--sure that if he goes on he will--" she stopped. he nodded. "it means--" she said and stopped again. "no adventure, no incident, but a going out from all that this life has to offer." "you mean," she insisted, "you mean----?" "death," said melville starkly, and for a space both stood without a word. she winced, and remained looking into his eyes. then she spoke again. "mr. melville, tell him to come back to me." "and----?" "tell him to come back to me, or"--a sudden note of passion rang in her voice--"if i have no hold upon him, let him go his way." "but--" said melville. "i know," she cried, with her face set, "i know. but if he is mine he will come to me, and if he is not-let him dream his dream." her clenched hand tightened as she spoke. he saw in her face she would say no more, that she wanted urgently to leave it there. he turned again towards the staircase. he glanced at her and went down. as he looked up from the bend of the stairs she was still standing in the light. he was moved to proclaim himself in some manner her adherent, but he could think of nothing better than: "whatever i can do i will." and so, after a curious pause, he departed, rather stumblingly, from her sight. iv after this interview it was right and proper that melville should have gone at once to chatteris, but the course of events in the world does occasionally display a lamentable disregard for what is right and proper. points of view were destined to crowd upon him that day--for the most part entirely unsympathetic points of view. he found mrs. bunting in the company of a boldly trimmed bonnet in the hall, waiting, it became clear, to intercept him. as he descended, in a state of extreme preoccupation, the boldly trimmed bonnet revealed beneath it a white-faced, resolute person in a duster and sensible boots. this stranger, mrs. bunting made apparent, was lady poynting mallow, one of the more representative of the chatteris aunts. her ladyship made a few enquiries about adeline with an eye that took melville's measure, and then, after agreeing to a number of the suggestions mrs. bunting had to advance, proposed that he should escort her back to her hotel. he was much too exercised with adeline to discuss the proposal. "i walk," she said. "and we go along the lower road." he found himself walking. she remarked, as the bunting door closed behind them, that it was always a comfort to have to do with a man; and there was a silence for a space. i don't think at that time melville completely grasped the fact that he had a companion. but presently his meditations were disturbed by her voice. he started. "i beg your pardon," he said. "that bunting woman is a fool," repeated lady poynting mallow. there was a slight interval for consideration. "she's an old friend of mine," said melville. "quite possibly," said lady poynting mallow. the position seemed a little awkward to melville for a moment. he flicked a fragment of orange peel into the road. "i want to get to the bottom of all this," said lady poynting mallow. "who _is_ this other woman?" "what other woman?" "_tertium quid_," said lady poynting mallow, with a luminous incorrectness. "mermaid, i gather," said melville. "what's the objection to her?" "tail." "fin and all?" "complete." "you're sure of it?" "certain." "how do you know?" "i'm certain," repeated melville with a quite unusual testiness. the lady reflected. "well, there are worse things in the world than a fishy tail," she said at last. melville saw no necessity for a reply. "h'm," said lady poynting mallow, apparently by way of comment on his silence, and for a space they went on. "that glendower girl is a fool too," she added after a pause. my cousin opened his mouth and shut it again. how can one answer when ladies talk in this way? but if he did not answer, at any rate his preoccupation was gone. he was now acutely aware of the determined person at his side. "she has means?" she asked abruptly. "miss glendower?" "no. i know all about her. the other?" "the mermaid?" "yes, the mermaid. why not?" "oh, _she_--very considerable means. galleons. phoenician treasure ships, wrecked frigates, submarine reefs----" "well, that's all right. and now will you tell me, mr. melville, why shouldn't harry have her? what if she is a mermaid? it's no worse than an american silver mine, and not nearly so raw and ill-bred." "in the first place there's his engagement----" "oh, _that_!" "and in the next there's the sea lady." "but i thought she----" "she's a mermaid." "it's no objection. so far as i can see, she'd make an excellent wife for him. and, as a matter of fact, down here she'd be able to help him in just the right way. the member here--he'll be fighting--this sassoon man--makes a lot of capital out of deep-sea cables. couldn't be better. harry could dish him easily. that's all right. why shouldn't he have her?" she stuck her hands deeply into the pockets of her dust-coat, and a china-blue eye regarded melville from under the brim of the boldly trimmed bonnet. "you understand clearly she is a properly constituted mermaid with a real physical tail?" "well?" said lady poynting mallow. "apart from any question of miss glendower----" "that's understood." "i think that such a marriage would be impossible." "why?" my cousin played round the question. "she's an immortal, for example, with a past." "simply makes her more interesting." melville tried to enter into her point of view. "you think," he said, "she would go to london for him, and marry at st. george's, hanover square, and pay for a mansion in park lane and visit just anywhere he liked?" "that's precisely what she would do. just now, with a court that is waking up----" "it's precisely what she won't do," said melville. "but any woman would do it who had the chance." "she's a mermaid." "she's a fool," said lady poynting mallow. "she doesn't even mean to marry him; it doesn't enter into her code." "the hussy! what does she mean?" my cousin made a gesture seaward. "that!" he said. "she's a mermaid." "what?" "out there." "where?" "there!" lady poynting mallow scanned the sea as if it were some curious new object. "it's an amphibious outlook for the family," she said after reflection. "but even then--if she doesn't care for society and it makes harry happy--and perhaps after they are tired of--rusticating----" "i don't think you fully realise that she is a mermaid," said melville; "and chatteris, you know, breathes air." "that _is_ a difficulty," admitted lady poynting mallow, and studied the sunlit offing for a space. "i don't see why it shouldn't be managed for all that," she considered after a pause. "it can't be," said melville with arid emphasis. "she cares for him?" "she's come to fetch him." "if she wants him badly he might make terms. in these affairs it's always one or other has to do the buying. she'd have to _marry_--anyhow." my cousin regarded her impenetrably satisfied face. "he could have a yacht and a diving bell," she suggested; "if she wanted him to visit her people." "they are pagan demigods, i believe, and live in some mythological way in the mediterranean." "dear harry's a pagan himself--so that doesn't matter, and as for being mythological--all good families are. he could even wear a diving dress if one could be found to suit him." "i don't think that anything of the sort is possible for a moment." "simply because you've never been a woman in love," said lady poynting mallow with an air of vast experience. she continued the conversation. "if it's sea water she wants it would be quite easy to fit up a tank wherever they lived, and she could easily have a bath chair like a sitz bath on wheels.... really, mr. milvain----" "melville." "mr. melville, i don't see where your 'impossible' comes in." "have you seen the lady?" "do you think i've been in folkestone two days doing nothing?" "you don't mean you've called on her?" "dear, no! it's harry's place to settle that. but i've seen her in her bath chair on the leas, and i'm certain i've never seen any one who looked so worthy of dear harry. _never!_" "well, well," said melville. "apart from any other considerations, you know, there's miss glendower." "i've never regarded her as a suitable wife for harry." "possibly not. still--she exists." "so many people do," said lady poynting mallow. she evidently regarded that branch of the subject as dismissed. they pursued their way in silence. "what i wanted to ask you, mr. milvain----" "melville." "mr. melville, is just precisely where you come into this business?" "i'm a friend of miss glendower." "who wants him back." "frankly--yes." "isn't she devoted to him?" "i presume as she's engaged----" "she ought to be devoted to him--yes. well, why can't she see that she ought to release him for his own good?" "she doesn't see it's for his good. nor do i." "simply an old-fashioned prejudice because the woman's got a tail. those old frumps at wampach's are quite of your opinion." melville shrugged his shoulders. "and so i suppose you're going to bully and threaten on account of miss glendower.... you'll do no good." "may i ask what you are going to do?" "what a good aunt always does." "and that?" "let him do what he likes." "suppose he wants to drown himself?" "my dear mr. milvain, harry isn't a fool." "i've told you she's a mermaid." "ten times." a constrained silence fell between them. it became apparent they were near the folkestone lift. "you'll do no good," said lady poynting mallow. melville's escort concluded at the lift station. there the lady turned upon him. "i'm greatly obliged to you for coming, mr. milvain," she said; "and very glad to hear your views of this matter. it's a peculiar business, but i hope we're sensible people. you think over what i have said. as a friend of harry's. you _are_ a friend of harry's?" "we've known each other some years." "i feel sure you will come round to my point of view sooner or later. it is so obviously the best thing for him." "there's miss glendower." "if miss glendower is a womanly woman, she will be ready to make any sacrifice for his good." and with that they parted. in the course of another minute melville found himself on the side of the road opposite the lift station, regarding the ascending car. the boldly trimmed bonnet, vivid, erect, assertive, went gliding upward, a perfect embodiment of sound common sense. his mind was lapsing once again into disorder; he was stunned, as it were, by the vigour of her ladyship's view. could any one not absolutely right be quite so clear and emphatic? and if so, what became of all that oppression of foreboding, that sinister promise of an escape, that whisper of "other dreams," that had dominated his mind only a short half-hour before? he turned his face back to sandgate, his mind a theatre of warring doubts. quite vividly he could see the sea lady as lady poynting mallow saw her, as something pink and solid and smart and wealthy, and, indeed, quite abominably vulgar, and yet quite as vividly he recalled her as she had talked to him in the garden, her face full of shadows, her eyes of deep mystery, and the whisper that made all the world about him no more than a flimsy, thin curtain before vague and wonderful, and hitherto, quite unsuspected things. v chatteris was leaning against the railings. he started violently at melville's hand upon his shoulder. they made awkward greetings. "the fact is," said melville, "i--i have been asked to talk to you." "don't apologise," said chatteris. "i'm glad to have it out with some one." there was a brief silence. they stood side by side--looking down upon the harbour. behind, the evening band played remotely and the black little promenaders went to and fro under the tall electric lights. i think chatteris decided to be very self-possessed at first--a man of the world. "it's a gorgeous night," he said. "glorious," said melville, playing up to the key set. he clicked his cutter on a cigar. "there was something you wanted me to tell you----" "i know all that," said chatteris with the shoulder towards melville becoming obtrusive. "i know everything." "you have seen and talked to her?" "several times." there was perhaps a minute's pause. "what are you going to do?" asked melville. chatteris made no answer and melville did not repeat his question. presently chatteris turned about. "let's walk," he said, and they paced westward, side by side. he made a little speech. "i'm sorry to give everybody all this trouble," he said with an air of having prepared his sentences; "i suppose there is no question that i have behaved like an ass. i am profoundly sorry. largely it is my own fault. but you know--so far as the overt kick-up goes--there is a certain amount of blame attaches to our outspoken friend mrs. bunting." "i'm afraid there is," melville admitted. "you know there are times when one is under the necessity of having moods. it doesn't help them to drag them into general discussion." "the mischief's done." "you know adeline seems to have objected to the presence of--this sea lady at a very early stage. mrs. bunting overruled her. afterwards when there was trouble she seems to have tried to make up for it." "i didn't know miss glendower had objected." "she did. she seems to have seen--ahead." chatteris reflected. "of course all that doesn't excuse me in the least. but it's a sort of excuse for _your_ being dragged into this bother." he said something less distinctly about a "stupid bother" and "private affairs." they found themselves drawing near the band and already on the outskirts of its territory of votaries. its cheerful rhythms became insistent. the canopy of the stand was a focus of bright light, music-stands and instruments sent out beams of reflected brilliance, and a luminous red conductor in the midst of the lantern guided the ratatoo-tat, ratatoo-tat of a popular air. voices, detached fragments of conversation, came to our talkers and mingled impertinently with their thoughts. "i wouldn't 'ave no truck with 'im, not after that," said a young person to her friend. "let's get out of this," said chatteris abruptly. they turned aside from the high path of the leas to the head of some steps that led down the declivity. in a few moments it was as if those imposing fronts of stucco, those many-windowed hotels, the electric lights on the tall masts, the band-stand and miscellaneous holiday british public, had never existed. it is one of folkestone's best effects, that black quietness under the very feet of a crowd. they no longer heard the band even, only a remote suggestion of music filtered to them over the brow. the black-treed slopes fell from them to the surf below, and out at sea were the lights of many ships. away to the westward like a swarm of fire-flies hung the lights of hythe. the two men sat down on a vacant seat in the dimness. for a time neither spoke. chatteris impressed melville with an air of being on the defensive. he murmured in a meditative undertone, "i wouldn't 'ave no truck with 'im not after that." "i will admit by every standard," he said aloud, "that i have been flappy and feeble and wrong. very. in these things there is a prescribed and definite course. to hesitate, to have two points of view, is condemned by all right-thinking people.... still--one has the two points of view.... you have come up from sandgate?" "yes." "did you see miss glendower?" "yes." "talked to her?... i suppose-what do you think of her?" his cigar glowed into an expectant brightness while melville hesitated at his answer, and showed his eyes thoughtful upon melville's face. "i've never thought her--" melville sought more diplomatic phrasing. "i've never found her exceptionally attractive before. handsome, you know, but not--winning. but this time, she seemed ... rather splendid." "she is," said chatteris, "she is." he sat forward and began flicking imaginary ash from the end of his cigar. "she _is_ splendid," he admitted. "you--only begin to imagine. you don't, my dear man, know that girl. she is not--quite--in your line. she is, i assure you, the straightest and cleanest and clearest human being i have ever met. she believes so firmly, she does right so simply, there is a sort of queenly benevolence, a sort of integrity of benevolence----" he left the sentence unfinished, as if unfinished it completely expressed his thought. "she wants you to go back to her," said melville bluntly. "i know," said chatteris and flicked again at that ghostly ash. "she has written that.... that's just where her complete magnificence comes in. she doesn't fence and fool about, as the she-women do. she doesn't squawk and say, 'you've insulted me and everything's at an end;' and she doesn't squawk and say, 'for god's sake come back to me!' _she_ doesn't say, she 'won't 'ave no truck with me not after this.' she writes--straight. i don't believe, melville, i half knew her until all this business came up. she comes out.... before that it was, as you said, and i quite perceive--i perceived all along--a little too--statistical." he became meditative, and his cigar glow waned and presently vanished altogether. "you are going back?" "by jove! _yes._" melville stirred slightly and then they both sat rigidly quiet for a space. then abruptly chatteris flung away his extinct cigar. he seemed to fling many other things away with that dim gesture. "of course," he said, "i shall go back. "it is not my fault," he insisted, "that this trouble, this separation, has ever arisen. i was moody, i was preoccupied, i know--things had got into my head. but if i'd been left alone.... "i have been forced into this position," he summarised. "you understand," said melville, "that--though i think matters are indefined and distressing just now--i don't attach blame--anywhere." "you're open-minded," said chatteris. "that's just your way. and i can imagine how all this upset and discomfort distresses you. you're awfully good to keep so open-minded and not to consider me an utter outcast, an ill-regulated disturber of the order of the world." "it's a distressing state of affairs," said melville. "but perhaps i understand the forces pulling at you--better than you imagine." "they're very simple, i suppose." "very." "and yet----?" "well?" he seemed to hesitate at a dangerous topic. "the other," he said. melville's silence bade him go on. he plunged from his prepared attitude. "what is it? why should--this being--come into my life, as she has done, if it _is_ so simple? what is there about her, or me, that has pulled me so astray? she has, you know. here we are at sixes and sevens! it's not the situation, it's the mental conflict. why am i pulled about? she has got into my imagination. how? i haven't the remotest idea." "she's beautiful," meditated melville. "she's beautiful certainly. but so is miss glendower." "she's very beautiful. i'm not blind, chatteris. she's beautiful in a different way." "yes, but that's only the name for the effect. _why_ is she very beautiful?" melville shrugged his shoulders. "she's not beautiful to every one." "you mean?" "bunting keeps calm." "oh--_he_----!" "and other people don't seem to see it--as i do." "some people seem to see no beauty at all, as we do. with emotion, that is." "why do we?" "we see--finer." "do we? is it finer? why should it be finer to see beauty where it is fatal to us to see it? why? unless we are to believe there is no reason in things, why should this--impossibility, be beautiful to any one anyhow? put it as a matter of reason, melville. why should _her_ smile be so sweet to me, why should _her_ voice move me! why her's and not adeline's? adeline has straight eyes and clear eyes and fine eyes, and all the difference there can be, what is it? an infinitesimal curving of the lid, an infinitesimal difference in the lashes--and it shatters everything--in this way. who could measure the difference, who could tell the quality that makes me _swim_ in the sound of her voice.... the difference? after all, it's a visible thing, it's a material thing! it's in my eyes. by jove!" he laughed abruptly. "imagine old helmholtz trying to gauge it with a battery of resonators, or spencer in the light of evolution and the environment explaining it away!" "these things are beyond measurement," said melville. "not if you measure them by their effect," said chatteris. "and anyhow, why do they take us? that is the question i can't get away from just now." my cousin meditated, no doubt with his hands deep in his trousers' pockets. "it is illusion," he said. "it is a sort of glamour. after all, look at it squarely. what is she? what can she give you? she promises you vague somethings.... she is a snare, she is deception. she is the beautiful mask of death." "yes," said chatteris. "i know." and then again, "i know. "there is nothing for me to learn about that," he said. "but why--why should the mask of death be beautiful? after all-we get our duty by good hard reasoning. why should reason and justice carry everything? perhaps after all there are things beyond our reason, perhaps after all desire has a claim on us?" he stopped interrogatively and melville was profound. "i think," said my cousin at last, "desire _has_ a claim on us. beauty, at any rate---"i mean," he explained, "we are human beings. we are matter with minds growing out of ourselves. we reach downward into the beautiful wonderland of matter, and upward to something--" he stopped, from sheer dissatisfaction with the image. "in another direction, anyhow," he tried feebly. he jumped at something that was not quite his meaning. "man is a sort of half-way house--he must compromise." "as you do?" "well. yes. i try to strike a balance." "a few old engravings--good, i suppose--a little luxury in furniture and flowers, a few things that come within your means. art--in moderation, and a few kindly acts of the pleasanter sort, a certain respect for truth; duty--also in moderation. eh? it's just that even balance that i cannot contrive. i cannot sit down to the oatmeal of this daily life and wash it down with a temperate draught of beauty and water. art!... i suppose i'm voracious, i'm one of the unfit--for the civilised stage. i've sat down once, i've sat down twice, to perfectly sane, secure, and reasonable things.... it's not my way." he repeated, "it's not my way." melville, i think, said nothing to that. he was distracted from the immediate topic by the discussion of his own way of living. he was lost in egotistical comparisons. no doubt he was on the verge of saying, as most of us would have been under the circumstances: "i don't think you quite understand my position." "but, after all, what is the good of talking in this way?" exclaimed chatteris abruptly. "i am simply trying to elevate the whole business by dragging in these wider questions. it's justification, when i didn't mean to justify. i have to choose between life with adeline and this woman out of the sea." "who is death." "how do i know she is death?" "but you said you had made your choice!" "i have." he seemed to recollect. "i have," he corroborated. "i told you. i am going back to see miss glendower to-morrow. "yes." he recalled further portions of what i believe was some prepared and ready-phrased decision--some decision from which the conversation had drifted. "the need of my life is discipline, the habit of persistence, of ignoring side issues and wandering thoughts. discipline!" "and work." "work, if you like to put it so; it's the same thing. the trouble so far has been i haven't worked hard enough. i've stopped to speak to the woman by the wayside. i've paltered with compromise, and the other thing has caught me.... i've got to renounce it, that is all." "it isn't that your work is contemptible." "by jove! no. it's--arduous. it has its dusty moments. there are places to climb that are not only steep but muddy----" "the world wants leaders. it gives a man of your class a great deal. leisure. honour. training and high traditions----" "and it expects something back. i know. i am wrong--have been wrong anyhow. this dream has taken me wonderfully. and i must renounce it. after all it is not so much--to renounce a dream. it's no more than deciding to live. there are big things in the world for men to do." melville produced an elaborate conceit. "if there is no venus anadyomene," he said, "there is michael and his sword." "the stern angel in armour! but then he had a good palpable dragon to slash and not his own desires. and our way nowadays is to do a deal with the dragons somehow, raise the minimum wage and get a better housing for the working classes by hook or by crook." melville does not think that was a fair treatment of his suggestion. "no," said chatteris, "i've no doubt about the choice. i'm going to fall in--with the species; i'm going to take my place in the ranks in that great battle for the future which is the meaning of life. i want a moral cold bath and i mean to take one. this lax dalliance with dreams and desires must end. i will make a time table for my hours and a rule for my life, i will entangle my honour in controversies, i will give myself to service, as a man should do. clean-handed work, struggle, and performance." "and there is miss glendower, you know." "rather!" said chatteris, with a faint touch of insincerity. "tall and straight-eyed and capable. by jove! if there's to be no venus anadyomene, at any rate there will be a pallas athene. it is she who plays the reconciler." and then he said these words: "it won't be so bad, you know." melville restrained a movement of impatience, he tells me, at that. then chatteris, he says, broke into a sort of speech. "the case is tried," he said, "the judgment has been given. i am that i am. i've been through it all and worked it out. i am a man and i must go a man's way. there is desire, the light and guide of the world, a beacon on a headland blazing out. let it burn! let it burn! the road runs near it and by it--and past.... i've made my choice. i've got to be a man, i've got to live a man and die a man and carry the burden of my class and time. there it is! i've had the dream, but you see i keep hold of reason. here, with the flame burning, i renounce it. i make my choice.... renunciation! always--renunciation! that is life for all of us. we have desires, only to deny them, senses that we all must starve. we can live only as a part of ourselves. why should _i_ be exempt. for me, she is evil. for me she is death.... only why have i seen her face? why have i heard her voice?..." vi they walked out of the shadows and up a long sloping path until sandgate, as a little line of lights, came into view below. presently they came out upon the brow and walked together (the band playing with a remote and sweetening indistinctness far away behind them) towards the cliff at the end. they stood for a little while in silence looking down. melville made a guess at his companion's thoughts. "why not come down to-night?" he asked. "on a night like this!" chatteris turned about suddenly and regarded the moonlight and the sea. he stood quite still for a space, and that cold white radiance gave an illusory strength and decision to his face. "no," he said at last, and the word was almost a sigh. "go down to the girl below there. end the thing. she will be there, thinking of you----" "no," said chatteris, "no." "it's not ten yet," melville tried again. chatteris thought. "no," he answered, "not to-night. to-morrow, in the light of everyday. "i want a good, gray, honest day," he said, "with a south-west wind.... these still, soft nights! how can you expect me to do anything of that sort to-night?" and then he murmured as if he found the word a satisfying word to repeat, "renunciation." "by jove!" he said with the most astonishing transition, "but this is a night out of fairyland! look at the lights of those windows below there and then up--up into this enormous blue of sky. and there, as if it were fainting with moonlight--shines one star." chapter the eighth moonshine triumphant i just precisely what happened after that has been the most impossible thing to disinter. i have given all the things that melville remembered were said, i have linked them into a conversation and checked them by my cousin's afterthoughts, and finally i have read the whole thing over to him. it is of course no verbatim rendering, but it is, he says, closely after the manner of their talk, the gist was that, and things of that sort were said. and when he left chatteris, he fully believed that the final and conclusive thing was said. and then he says it came into his head that, apart from and outside this settlement, there still remained a tangible reality, capable of action, the sea lady. what was she going to do? the thought toppled him back into a web of perplexities again. it carried him back into a state of inconclusive interrogation past lummidge's hotel. the two men had gone back to the métropole and had parted with a firm handclasp outside the glare of the big doorway. chatteris went straight in, melville fancies, but he is not sure. i understand melville had some private thinking to do on his own account, and i conceive him walking away in a state of profound preoccupation. afterwards the fact that the sea lady was not to be abolished by renunciations, cropped up in his mind, and he passed back along the leas, as i have said. his inconclusive interrogations elicited at the utmost that lummidge's private and family hotel is singularly like any other hotel of its class. its windows tell no secrets. and there melville's narrative ends. with that my circumstantial record necessarily comes to an end also. there are sources, of course, and glimpses. parker refuses, unhappily--as i explained. the chief of these sources are, first, gooch, the valet employed by chatteris; and, secondly, the hall-porter of lummidge's private and family hotel. the valet's evidence is precise, but has an air of being irrelevant. he witnesses that at a quarter past eleven he went up to ask chatteris if there was anything more to do that night, and found him seated in an arm-chair before the open window, with his chin upon his hands, staring at nothing--which, indeed, as schopenhauer observes in his crowning passage, is the whole of human life. "more to do?" said chatteris. "yessir," said the valet. "nothing," said chatteris, "absolutely nothing." and the valet, finding this answer quite satisfactory, wished him goodnight and departed. probably chatteris remained in this attitude for a considerable time--half an hour, perhaps, or more. slowly, it would seem, his mood underwent a change. at some definite moment it must have been that his lethargic meditation gave way to a strange activity, to a sort of hysterical reaction against all his resolves and renunciations. his first action seems to me grotesque--and grotesquely pathetic. he went into his dressing-room, and in the morning "his clo'es," said the valet, "was shied about as though 'e'd lost a ticket." this poor worshipper of beauty and the dream shaved! he shaved and washed and he brushed his hair, and, his valet testifies, one of the brushes got "shied" behind the bed. even this throwing about of brushes seems to me to have done little or nothing to palliate his poor human preoccupation with the toilette. he changed his gray flannels--which suited him very well--for his white ones, which suited him extremely. he must deliberately and conscientiously have made himself quite "lovely," as a schoolgirl would have put it. and having capped his great "renunciation" by these proceedings, he seems to have gone straight to lummidge's private and family hotel and demanded to see the sea lady. she had retired. this came from parker, and was delivered in a chilling manner by the hall-porter. chatteris swore at the hall-porter. "tell her i'm here," he said. "she's retired," said the hall-porter with official severity. "will you tell her i'm here?" said chatteris, suddenly white. "what name, sir?" said the hall-porter, in order, as he explains, "to avoid a frackass." "chatteris. tell her i must see her now. do you hear, _now_?" the hall-porter went to parker, and came half-way back. he wished to goodness he was not a hall-porter. the manager had gone out--it was a stagnant hour. he decided to try parker again; he raised his voice. the sea lady called to parker from the inner room. there was an interval of tension. i gather that the sea lady put on a loose wrap, and the faithful parker either carried her or sufficiently helped her from her bedroom to the couch in the little sitting-room. in the meanwhile the hall-porter hovered on the stairs, praying for the manager--prayers that went unanswered--and chatteris fumed below. then we have a glimpse of the sea lady. "i see her just in the crack of the door," said the porter, "as that maid of hers opened it. she was raised up on her hands, and turned so towards the door. looking exactly like this----" and the hall-porter, who has an irish type of face, a short nose, long upper lip, and all the rest of it, and who has also neglected his dentist, projected his face suddenly, opened his eyes very wide, and slowly curved his mouth into a fixed smile, and so remained until he judged the effect on me was complete. parker, a little flushed, but resolutely flattening everything to the quality of the commonplace, emerged upon him suddenly. miss waters could see mr. chatteris for a few minutes. she was emphatic with the "miss waters," the more emphatic for all the insurgent stress of the goddess, protestingly emphatic. and chatteris went up, white and resolved, to that smiling expectant presence. no one witnessed their meeting but parker--assuredly parker could not resist seeing that, but parker is silent--parker preserves a silence that rubies could not break. all i know, is this much from the porter: "when i said she was up there and would see him," he says, "the way he rooshed up was outrageous. this is a private family hotel. of course one sees things at times even here, but---"i couldn't find the manager to tell 'im," said the hall-porter. "and what was _i_ authorised to do? "for a bit they talked with the door open, and then it was shut. that maid of hers did it--i lay." i asked an ignoble question. "couldn't ketch a word," said the hall-porter. "dropped to whispers--instanter." ii and afterwards-it was within ten minutes of one that parker, conferring an amount of decorum on the request beyond the power of any other living being, descended to demand--of all conceivable things--the bath chair! "i got it," said the hall-porter with inimitable profundity. and then, having let me realise the fulness of that, he said: "they never used it!" "no?" "no! he carried her down in his arms." "and out?" "and out!" he was difficult to follow in his description of the sea lady. she wore her wrap, it seems, and she was "like a statue"--whatever he may have meant by that. certainly not that she was impassive. "only," said the porter, "she was alive. one arm was bare, i know, and her hair was down, a tossing mass of gold. "he looked, you know, like a man who's screwed himself up. "she had one hand holding his hair--yes, holding his hair, with her fingers in among it.... "and when she see my face she threw her head back laughing at me. "as much as to say, '_got_ 'im!' "laughed at me, she did. bubblin' over." i stood for a moment conceiving this extraordinary picture. then a question occurred to me. "did _he_ laugh?" i asked. "gord bless you, sir, laugh? _no!_" iii the definite story ends in the warm light outside lummidge's private and family hotel. one sees that bright solitude of the leas stretching white and blank--deserted as only a seaside front in the small hours can be deserted--and all its electric light ablaze. and then the dark line of the edge where the cliff drops down to the undercliff and sea. and beyond, moonlit, the channel and its incessant ships. outside the front of the hotel, which is one of a great array of pallid white facades, stands this little black figure of a hall-porter, staring stupidly into the warm and luminous mystery of the night that has swallowed sea lady and chatteris together. and he is the sole living thing in the picture. there is a little shelter set in the brow of the leas, wherein, during the winter season, a string band plays. close by there are steps that go down precipitously to the lower road below. down these it must have been they went together, hastening downward out of this life of ours to unknown and inconceivable things. so it is i seem to see them, and surely though he was not in a laughing mood, there was now no doubt nor resignation in his face. assuredly now he had found himself, for a time at least he was sure of himself, and that at least cannot be misery, though it lead straight through a few swift strides to death. they went down through the soft moonlight, tall and white and splendid, interlocked, with his arms about her, his brow to her white shoulder and her hair about his face. and she, i suppose, smiled above him and caressed him and whispered to him. for a moment they must have glowed under the warm light of the lamp that is half-way down the steps there, and then the shadows closed about them. he must have crossed the road with her, through the laced moonlight of the tree shadows, and through the shrubs and bushes of the undercliff, into the shadeless moon glare of the beach. there was no one to see that last descent, to tell whether for a moment he looked back before he waded into the phosphorescence, and for a little swam with her, and presently swam no longer, and so was no more to be seen by any one in this gray world of men. did he look back, i wonder? they swam together for a little while, the man and the sea goddess who had come for him, with the sky above them and the water about them all, warmly filled with the moonlight and set with shining stars. it was no time for him to think of truth, nor of the honest duties he had left behind him, as they swam together into the unknown. and of the end i can only guess and dream. did there come a sudden horror upon him at the last, a sudden perception of infinite error, and was he drawn down, swiftly and terribly, a bubbling repentance, into those unknown deeps? or was she tender and wonderful to the last, and did she wrap her arms about him and draw him down, down until the soft waters closed above him into a gentle ecstasy of death? into these things we cannot pry or follow, and on the margin of the softly breathing water the story of chatteris must end. for the tailpiece to that, let us put that policeman who in the small hours before dawn came upon the wrap the sea lady had been wearing just as the tide overtook it. it was not the sort of garment low people sometimes throw away--it was a soft and costly wrap. i seem to see him perplexed and dubious, wrap in charge over his arm and lantern in hand, scanning first the white beach and black bushes behind him and then staring out to sea. it was the inexplicable abandonment of a thoroughly comfortable and desirable thing. "what were people up to?" one figures him asking, this simple citizen of a plain and observed world. "what do such things mean? "to throw away such an excellent wrap...!" in all the southward heaven there were only a planet and the sinking moon, and from his feet a path of quivering light must have started and run up to the extreme dark edge before him of the sky. ever and again the darkness east and west of that glory would be lit by a momentary gleam of phosphorescence; and far out the lights of ships were shining bright and yellow. across its shimmer a black fishing smack was gliding out of mystery into mystery. dungeness shone from the west a pin-point of red light, and in the east the tireless glare of that great beacon on gris-nez wheeled athwart the sky and vanished and came again. i picture the interrogation of his lantern going out for a little way, a stain of faint pink curiosity upon the mysterious vast serenity of night. the end transcriber's note: a few obvious printer's errors have been silently corrected. otherwise spelling, hyphenation, interpunction and grammar have been preserved as in the original. to judith of randolph massachusetts the sea fairies by l. frank baum author of the emerald city of oz, dorothy and the wizard in oz, ozma of oz, the road to oz, the land of oz, etc. illustrated by john r. neill the oceans are big and broad. i believe two-thirds of the earth's surface is covered with water. what people inhabit this water has always been a subject of curiosity to the inhabitants of the land. strange creatures come from the seas at times, and perhaps in the ocean depths are many, more strange than mortal eye has ever gazed upon. this story is fanciful. in it the sea people talk and act much as we do, and the mermaids especially are not unlike the fairies with whom we have learned to be familiar. yet they are real sea people, for all that, and with the exception of zog the magician they are all supposed to exist in the ocean's depths. i am told that some very learned people deny that mermaids or sea-serpents have ever inhabited the oceans, but it would be very difficult for them to prove such an assertion unless they had lived under the water as trot and cap'n bill did in this story. i hope my readers who have so long followed dorothy's adventures in the land of oz will be interested in trot's equally strange experiences. the ocean has always appealed to me as a veritable wonderland, and this story has been suggested to me many times by my young correspondents in their letters. indeed, a good many children have implored me to "write something about the mermaids," and i have willingly granted the request. hollywood, 1911. l. frank baum. list of chapters chapter 1 trot and cap'n bill 2 the mermaids 3 the depths of the deep blue sea 4 the palace of queen aquareine 5 the sea-serpent 6 exploring the ocean 7 the aristocratic codfish 8 a banquet under water 9 the bashful octopus 10 the undiscovered island 11 zog the terrible and his sea devils 12 the enchanted island 13 prisoners of the sea monster 14 cap'n joe and cap'n bill 15 the magic of the mermaids 16 the top of the great dome 17 the queen's golden sword 18 a dash for liberty 19 king anko to the rescue 20 the home of the ocean monarch 21 king joe 22 trot lives to tell the tale chapter 1 trot and cap'n bill "nobody," said cap'n bill solemnly, "ever sawr a mermaid an' lived to tell the tale." "why not?" asked trot, looking earnestly up into the old sailor's face. they were seated on a bench built around a giant acacia tree that grew just at the edge of the bluff. below them rolled the blue waves of the great pacific. a little way behind them was the house, a neat frame cottage painted white and surrounded by huge eucalyptus and pepper trees. still farther behind that--a quarter of a mile distant but built upon a bend of the coast--was the village, overlooking a pretty bay. cap'n bill and trot came often to this tree to sit and watch the ocean below them. the sailor man had one "meat leg" and one "hickory leg," and he often said the wooden one was the best of the two. once cap'n bill had commanded and owned the "anemone," a trading schooner that plied along the coast; and in those days charlie griffiths, who was trot's father, had been the captain's mate. but ever since cap'n bill's accident, when he lost his leg, charlie griffiths had been the captain of the little schooner while his old master lived peacefully ashore with the griffiths family. this was about the time trot was born, and the old sailor became very fond of the baby girl. her real name was mayre, but when she grew big enough to walk, she took so many busy little steps every day that both her mother and cap'n bill nicknamed her "trot," and so she was thereafter mostly called. it was the old sailor who taught the child to love the sea, to love it almost as much as he and her father did, and these two, who represented the "beginning and the end of life," became firm friends and constant companions. "why hasn't anybody seen a mermaid and lived?" asked trot again. "'cause mermaids is fairies, an' ain't meant to be seen by us mortal folk," replied cap'n bill. "but if anyone happens to see 'em, what then, cap'n?" "then," he answered, slowly wagging his head, "the mermaids give 'em a smile an' a wink, an' they dive into the water an' gets drownded." "s'pose they knew how to swim, cap'n bill?" "that don't make any diff'rence, trot. the mermaids live deep down, an' the poor mortals never come up again." the little girl was thoughtful for a moment. "but why do folks dive in the water when the mermaids smile an' wink?" she asked. "mermaids," he said gravely, "is the most beautiful creatures in the world--or the water, either. you know what they're like, trot, they's got a lovely lady's form down to the waist, an' then the other half of 'em's a fish, with green an' purple an' pink scales all down it." "have they got arms, cap'n bill?" "'course, trot; arms like any other lady. an' pretty faces that smile an' look mighty sweet an' fetchin'. their hair is long an' soft an' silky, an' floats all around 'em in the water. when they comes up atop the waves, they wring the water out'n their hair and sing songs that go right to your heart. if anybody is unlucky enough to be 'round jes' then, the beauty o' them mermaids an' their sweet songs charm 'em like magic; so's they plunge into the waves to get to the mermaids. but the mermaids haven't any hearts, trot, no more'n a fish has; so they laughs when the poor people drown an' don't care a fig. that's why i says, an' i says it true, that nobody never sawr a mermaid an' lived to tell the tale." "nobody?" asked trot. "nobody a tall." "then how do you know, cap'n bill?" asked the little girl, looking up into his face with big, round eyes. cap'n bill coughed. then he tried to sneeze, to gain time. then he took out his red cotton handkerchief and wiped his bald head with it, rubbing hard so as to make him think clearer. "look, trot; ain't that a brig out there?" he inquired, pointing to a sail far out in the sea. "how does anybody know about mermaids if those who have seen them never lived to tell about them?" she asked again. "know what about 'em, trot?" "about their green and pink scales and pretty songs and wet hair." "they don't know, i guess. but mermaids jes' natcherly has to be like that, or they wouldn't be mermaids." she thought this over. "somebody must have lived, cap'n bill," she declared positively. "other fairies have been seen by mortals; why not mermaids?" "p'raps they have, trot, p'raps they have," he answered musingly. "i'm tellin' you as it was told to me, but i never stopped to inquire into the matter so close before. seems like folks wouldn't know so much about mermaids if they hadn't seen 'em; an' yet accordin' to all accounts the victim is bound to get drownded." "p'raps," suggested trot softly, "someone found a fotygraph of one of 'em." "that might o' been, trot, that might o' been," answered cap'n bill. a nice man was cap'n bill, and trot knew he always liked to explain everything so she could fully understand it. the aged sailor was not a very tall man, and some people might have called him chubby, or even fat. he wore a blue sailor shirt with white anchors worked on the corners of the broad, square collar, and his blue trousers were very wide at the bottom. he always wore one trouser leg over his wooden limb and sometimes it would flutter in the wind like a flag because it was so wide and the wooden leg so slender. his rough kersey coat was a pea-jacket and came down to his waistline. in the big pockets of his jacket he kept a wonderful jackknife, and his pipe and tobacco, and many bits of string, and matches and keys and lots of other things. whenever cap'n bill thrust a chubby hand into one of his pockets, trot watched him with breathless interest, for she never knew what he was going to pull out. the old sailor's face was brown as a berry. he had a fringe of hair around the back of his head and a fringe of whisker around the edge of his face, running from ear to ear and underneath his chin. his eyes were light blue and kind in expression. his nose was big and broad, and his few teeth were not strong enough to crack nuts with. trot liked cap'n bill and had a great deal of confidence in his wisdom, and a great admiration for his ability to make tops and whistles and toys with that marvelous jackknife of his. in the village were many boys and girls of her own age, but she never had as much fun playing with them as she had wandering by the sea accompanied by the old sailor and listening to his fascinating stories. she knew all about the flying dutchman, and davy jones' locker, and captain kidd, and how to harpoon a whale or dodge an iceberg or lasso a seal. cap'n bill had been everywhere in the world, almost, on his many voyages. he had been wrecked on desert islands like robinson crusoe and been attacked by cannibals, and had a host of other exciting adventures. so he was a delightful comrade for the little girl, and whatever cap'n bill knew trot was sure to know in time. "how do the mermaids live?" she asked. "are they in caves, or just in the water like fishes, or how?" "can't say, trot," he replied. "i've asked divers about that, but none of 'em ever run acrost a mermaid's nest yet, as i've heard of." "if they're fairies," she said, "their homes must be very pretty." "mebbe so, trot, but damp. they are sure to be damp, you know." "i'd like to see a mermaid, cap'n bill," said the child earnestly. "what, an' git drownded?" he exclaimed. "no, and live to tell the tale. if they're beautiful, and laughing, and sweet, there can't be much harm in them, i'm sure." "mermaids is mermaids," remarked cap'n bill in his most solemn voice. "it wouldn't do us any good to mix up with 'em, trot." "may-re! may-re!" called a voice from the house. "yes, mamma!" "you an' cap'n bill come in to supper." chapter 2 the mermaids the next morning, as soon as trot had helped wipe the breakfast dishes and put them away in the cupboard, the little girl and cap'n bill started out toward the bluff. the air was soft and warm and the sun turned the edges of the waves into sparkling diamonds. across the bay the last of the fisherboats was speeding away out to sea, for well the fishermen knew this was an ideal day to catch rockbass, barracuda and yellowtail. the old man and the young girl stood on the bluff and watched all this with interest. here was their world. "it isn't a bit rough this morning. let's have a boat ride, cap'n bill," said the child. "suits me to a t," declared the sailor. so they found the winding path that led down the face of the cliff to the narrow beach below and cautiously began the descent. trot never minded the steep path or the loose rocks at all, but cap'n bill's wooden leg was not so useful on a downgrade as on a level, and he had to be careful not to slip and take a tumble. but by and by they reached the sands and walked to a spot just beneath the big acacia tree that grew on the bluff. halfway to the top of the cliff hung suspended a little shed-like structure that sheltered trot's rowboat, for it was necessary to pull the boat out of reach of the waves which beat in fury against the rocks at high tide. about as high up as cap'n bill could reach was an iron ring securely fastened to the cliff, and to this ring was tied a rope. the old sailor unfastened the knot and began paying out the rope, and the rowboat came out of its shed and glided slowly downward to the beach. it hung on a pair of davits and was lowered just as a boat is lowered from a ship's side. when it reached the sands, the sailor unhooked the ropes and pushed the boat to the water's edge. it was a pretty little craft, light and strong, and cap'n bill knew how to sail it or row it, as trot might desire. today they decided to row, so the girl climbed into the bow and her companion stuck his wooden leg into the water's edge "so he wouldn't get his foot wet" and pushed off the little boat as he climbed aboard. then he seized the oars and began gently paddling. "whither away, commodore trot?" he asked gaily. "i don't care, cap'n. it's just fun enough to be on the water," she answered, trailing one hand overboard. so he rowed around by the north promontory, where the great caves were, and much as they were enjoying the ride, they soon began to feel the heat of the sun. "that's dead man's cave, 'cause a skellington was found there," observed the child as they passed a dark, yawning mouth in the cliff. "and that's bumble cave, 'cause the bumblebees make nests in the top of it. and here's smuggler's cave, 'cause the smugglers used to hide things in it." she knew all the caves well, and so did cap'n bill. many of them opened just at the water's edge, and it was possible to row their boat far into their dusky depths. "and here's echo cave," she continued, dreamily, as they slowly moved along the coast, "and giant's cave, and--oh, cap'n bill! do you s'pose there were ever any giants in that cave?" "'pears like there must o' been, trot, or they wouldn't o' named it that name," he replied, pausing to wipe his bald head with the red handkerchief while the oars dragged in the water. "we've never been into that cave, cap'n," she remarked, looking at the small hole in the cliff--an archway through which the water flowed. "let's go in now." "what for, trot?" "to see if there's a giant there." "hm. aren't you 'fraid?" "no, are you? i just don't b'lieve it's big enough for a giant to get into." "your father was in there once," remarked cap'n bill, "an' he says it's the biggest cave on the coast, but low down. it's full o' water, an' the water's deep down to the very bottom o' the ocean; but the rock roof's liable to bump your head at high tide ." "it's low tide now," returned trot. "and how could any giant live in there if the roof is so low down?" "why, he couldn't, mate. i reckon they must have called it giant's cave 'cause it's so big, an' not 'cause any giant man lived there." "let's go in," said the girl again. "i'd like to 'splore it." "all right," replied the sailor. "it'll be cooler in there than out here in the sun. we won't go very far, for when the tide turns we mightn't get out again." he picked up the oars and rowed slowly toward the cave. the black archway that marked its entrance seemed hardly big enough to admit the boat at first, but as they drew nearer, the opening became bigger. the sea was very calm here, for the headland shielded it from the breeze. "look out fer your head, trot!" cautioned cap'n bill as the boat glided slowly into the rocky arch. but it was the sailor who had to duck, instead of the little girl. only for a moment, though. just beyond the opening the cave was higher, and as the boat floated into the dim interior they found themselves on quite an extensive branch of the sea. for a time neither of them spoke and only the soft lapping of the water against the sides of the boat was heard. a beautiful sight met the eyes of the two adventurers and held them dumb with wonder and delight. it was not dark in this vast cave, yet the light seemed to come from underneath the water, which all around them glowed with an exquisite sapphire color. where the little waves crept up the sides of the rocks they shone like brilliant jewels, and every drop of spray seemed a gem fit to deck a queen. trot leaned her chin on her hands and her elbows on her lap and gazed at this charming sight with real enjoyment. cap'n bill drew in the oars and let the boat drift where it would while he also sat silently admiring the scene. slowly the little craft crept farther and farther into the dim interior of the vast cavern, while its two passengers feasted their eyes on the beauties constantly revealed. both the old seaman and the little girl loved the ocean in all its various moods. to them it was a constant companion and a genial comrade. if it stormed and raved, they laughed with glee; if it rolled great breakers against the shore, they clapped their hands joyfully; if it lay slumbering at their feet, they petted and caressed it, but always they loved it. here was the ocean yet. it had crept under the dome of overhanging rock to reveal itself crowned with sapphires and dressed in azure gown, revealing in this guise new and unexpected charms. "good morning, mayre," said a sweet voice. trot gave a start and looked around her in wonder. just beside her in the water were little eddies--circles within circles--such as are caused when anything sinks below the surface. "did--did you hear that, cap'n bill?" she whispered solemnly. cap'n bill did not answer. he was staring with eyes that fairly bulged out at a place behind trot's back, and he shook a little, as if trembling from cold. trot turned half around, and then she stared, too. rising from the blue water was a fair face around which floated a mass of long, blonde hair. it was a sweet, girlish face with eyes of the same deep blue as the water and red lips whose dainty smile disposed two rows of pearly teeth. the cheeks were plump and rosy, the brows gracefully penciled, while the chin was rounded and had a pretty dimple in it. "the most beauti-ful-est in all the world," murmured cap'n bill in a voice of horror, "an' no one has ever lived to--to tell the tale!" there was a peal of merry laughter at this, laughter that rippled and echoed throughout the cavern. just at trot's side appeared a new face even fairer than the other, with a wealth of brown hair wreathing the lovely features. and the eyes smiled kindly into those of the child. "are you a--a mermaid?" asked trot curiously. she was not a bit afraid. they seemed both gentle and friendly. "yes, dear," was the soft answer. "we are all mermaids!" chimed a laughing chorus, and here and there, all about the boat, appeared pretty faces lying just upon the surface of the water. "are you part fishes?" asked trot, greatly pleased by this wonderful sight. "no, we are all mermaid," replied the one with the brown hair. "the fishes are partly like us, because they live in the sea and must move about. and you are partly like us, mayre dear, but have awkward stiff legs so you may walk on the land. but the mermaids lived before fishes and before mankind, so both have borrowed something from us." "then you must be fairies if you've lived always," remarked trot, nodding wisely. "we are, dear. we are the water fairies," answered the one with the blonde hair, coming nearer and rising till her slender white throat showed plainly. "we--we're goners, trot!" sighed cap'n bill with a white, woebegone face. "i guess not, cap'n," she answered calmly. "these pretty mermaids aren't going to hurt us, i'm sure." "no indeed," said the first one who had spoken. "if we were wicked enough to wish to harm you, our magic could reach you as easily upon the land as in this cave. but we love little girls dearly and wish only to please them and make their lives more happy." "i believe that!" cried trot earnestly. cap'n bill groaned. "guess why we have appeared to you," said another mermaid, coming to the side of the boat. "why?" asked the child. "we heard you say yesterday you would like to see a mermaid, and so we decided to grant your wish." "that was real nice of you," said trot gratefully. "also, we heard all the foolish things cap'n bill said about us," remarked the brown-haired one smilingly, "and we wanted to prove to him that they were wrong." "i on'y said what i've heard," protested cap'n bill. "never havin' seen a mermaid afore, i couldn't be ackerate, an' i never expected to see one an' live to tell the tale." again the cave rang with merry laughter, and as it died away, trot said, "may i see your scales, please? and are they green and purple and pink like cap'n bill said?" they seemed undecided what to say to this and swam a little way off, where the beautiful heads formed a group that was delightful to see. perhaps they talked together, for the brown-haired mermaid soon came back to the side of the boat and asked, "would you like to visit our kingdom and see all the wonders that exist below the sea?" "i'd like to," replied trot promptly, "but i couldn't. i'd get drowned." "that you would, mate!" cried cap'n bill. "oh no," said the mermaid. "we would make you both like one of ourselves, and then you could live within the water as easily as we do." "i don't know as i'd like that," said the child, "at least for always." "you need not stay with us a moment longer than you please," returned the mermaid, smiling as if amused at the remark. "whenever you are ready to return home, we promise to bring you to this place again and restore to you the same forms you are now wearing." "would i have a fish's tail?" asked trot earnestly. "you would have a mermaid's tail," was the reply. "what color would my scales be--pink, or purple?" "you may choose the color yourself." "look ahere, trot!" said cap'n bill in excitement. "you ain't thinkin' o' doin' such a fool thing, are you?" "'course i am," declared the little girl. "we don't get such inv'tations every day, cap'n, and if i don't go now i may never find out how the mermaids live." "i don't care how they live, myself," said cap'n bill. "i jes' want 'em to let me live." "there's no danger," insisted trot. "i do' know 'bout that. that's what all the other folks said when they dove after the mermaids an' got drownded." "who?" asked the girl. "i don't know who, but i've heard tell--" "you've heard that no one ever saw a mermaid and lived," said trot. "to tell the tale," he added, nodding. "an' if we dives down like they says, we won't live ourselves." all the mermaids laughed at this, and the brown-haired one said, "well, if you are afraid, don't come. you may row your boat out of this cave and never see us again, if you like. we merely thought it would please little mayre, and were willing to show her the sights of our beautiful home." "i'd like to see 'em, all right," said trot, her eyes glistening with pleasure. "so would i," admitted cap'n bill, "if we would live to tell the tale." "don't you believe us?" asked the mermaid, fixing her lovely eyes on those of the old sailor and smiling prettily. "are you afraid to trust us to bring you safely back?" "n-n-no," said cap'n bill, "'tain't that. i've got to look after trot." "then you'll have to come with me," said trot decidedly, "for i'm going to 'cept this inv'tation. if you don't care to come, cap'n bill, you go home and tell mother i'm visitin' the mermaids." "she'd scold me inter shivers!" moaned cap'n bill with a shudder. "i guess i'd ruther take my chance down below." "all right, i'm ready, miss mermaid," said trot. "what shall i do? jump in, clothes and all?" "give me your hand, dear," answered the mermaid, lifting a lovely white arm from the water. trot took the slender hand and found it warm and soft and not a bit "fishy." "my name is clia," continued the mermaid, "and i am a princess in our deep-sea kingdom." just then trot gave a flop and flopped right out of the boat into the water. cap'n bill caught a gleam of pink scales as his little friend went overboard, and the next moment there was trot's face in the water among those of the mermaids. she was laughing with glee as she looked up into cap'n bill's face and called, "come on in, cap'n! it didn't hurt a bit!" chapter 3 the depths of the deep blue sea cap'n bill stood up in the boat as if undecided what to do. never a sailor man was more bewildered than this old fellow by the strangeness of the adventure he had encountered. at first he could hardly believe it was all true and that he was not dreaming; but there was trot in the water, laughing with the mermaids and floating comfortably about, and he couldn't leave his dear little companion to make the trip to the depths of the ocean alone. "take my hand, please, cap'n bill," said princess clia, reaching her dainty arm toward him; and suddenly the old man took courage and clasped the soft fingers in his own. he had to lean over the boat to do this, and then there came a queer lightness to his legs and he had a great longing to be in the water. so he gave a flop and flopped in beside trot, where he found himself comfortable enough, but somewhat frightened. "law sakes!" he gasped. "here's me in the water with my rheumatics! i'll be that stiff termorrer i can't wiggle." "you're wigglin' all right now," observed trot. "that's a fine tail you've got, cap'n, an' its green scales is jus' beautiful." "are they green, eh?" he asked, twisting around to try to see them. "green as em'ralds, cap'n. how do they feel?" "feel, trot, feel? why, this tail beats that ol' wooden leg all holler! i kin do stunts now that i couldn't o' done in a thousand years with ol' peg." "and don't be afraid of the rheumatism," advised the princess. "no mermaid ever catches cold or suffers pain in the water." "is cap'n bill a mermaid now?" asked trot. "why, he's a merman, i suppose," laughed the pretty princess. "but when he gets home, he will be just cap'n bill again." "wooden leg an' all?" inquired the child. "to be sure, my dear." the sailor was now trying his newly discovered power of swimming, and became astonished at the feats he could accomplish. he could dart this way and that with wonderful speed, and turn and dive, and caper about in the water far better than he had ever been able to do on land--even before he got the wooden leg. and a curious thing about this present experience was that the water did not cling to him and wet him as it had always done before. he still wore his flannel shirt and pea jacket and his sailor cap; but although he was in the water and had been underneath the surface, the cloth still seemed dry and warm. as he dived down and came up again, the drops flashed from his head and the fringe of beard, but he never needed to wipe his face or eyes at all. trot, too, was having queer experiences and enjoying them. when she ducked under water, she saw plainly everything about her as easily and distinctly as she had ever seen anything above water. and by looking over her shoulder she could watch the motion of her new tail, all covered with pretty iridescent pink scales, which gleamed like jewels. she wore her dress the same as before, and the water failed to affect it in the least. she now noticed that the mermaids were clothed, too, and their exquisite gowns were the loveliest thing the little girl had ever beheld. they seemed made of a material that was like sheeny silk, cut low in the neck and with wide, flowing sleeves that seldom covered the shapely, white arms of her new friends. the gowns had trains that floated far behind the mermaids as they swam, but were so fleecy and transparent that the sparkle of their scales might be seen reaching back of their waists, where the human form ended and the fish part began. the sea fairies wore strings of splendid pearls twined around their throats, while more pearls were sewn upon their gowns for trimmings. they did not dress their beautiful hair at all, but let it float around them in clouds. the little girl had scarcely time to observe all this when the princess said, "now, my dear, if you are ready, we will begin our journey, for it is a long way to our palaces." "all right," answered trot, and took the hand extended to her with a trustful smile. "will you allow me to guide you, cap'n bill?" asked the blonde mermaid, extending her hand to the old sailor. "of course, ma'am," he said, taking her fingers rather bashfully. "my name is merla," she continued, "and i am cousin to princess clia. we must all keep together, you know, and i will hold your hand to prevent your missing the way." while she spoke they began to descend through the water, and it grew quite dark for a time because the cave shut out the light. but presently trot, who was eagerly looking around her, began to notice the water lighten and saw they were coming into brighter parts of the sea. "we have left the cave now," said clia, "and may swim straight home." "i s'pose there are no winding roads in the ocean," remarked the child, swimming swiftly beside her new friend. "oh yes indeed. at the bottom, the way is far from being straight or level," replied clia. "but we are in mid-water now, where nothing will hinder our journey, unless--" she seemed to hesitate, so trot asked, "unless what?" "unless we meet with disagreeable creatures," said the princess. "the mid-water is not as safe as the very bottom, and that is the reason we are holding your hands." "what good would that do?" asked trot. "you must remember that we are fairies," said princess clia. "for that reason, nothing in the ocean can injure us, but you two are mortals and therefore not entirely safe at all times unless we protect you." trot was thoughtful for a few moments and looked around her a little anxiously. now and then a dark form would shoot across their pathway or pass them at some distance, but none was near enough for the girl to see plainly what it might be. suddenly they swam right into a big school of fishes, all yellowtails and of very large size. there must have been hundreds of them lying lazily in the water, and when they saw the mermaids they merely wriggled to one side and opened a path for the sea fairies to pass through. "will they hurt us?" asked trot. "no indeed," laughed the princess. "fishes are stupid creatures mostly, and this family is quite harmless." "how about sharks?" asked cap'n bill, who was swimming gracefully beside them, his hand clutched in that of pretty merla. "sharks may indeed be dangerous to you," replied clia, "so i advise you to keep them at a safe distance. they never dare attempt to bite a mermaid, and it may be they will think you belong to our band; but it is well to avoid them if possible." "don't get careless, cap'n," added trot. "i surely won't, mate," he replied. "you see, i didn't use to be 'fraid o' sharks 'cause if they came near i'd stick my wooden leg at 'em. but now, if they happens to fancy these green scales, it's all up with ol' bill." "never fear," said merla, "i'll take care of you on our journey, and in our palaces you will find no sharks at all." "can't they get in?" he asked anxiously. "no. the palaces of the mermaids are inhabited only by themselves." "is there anything else to be afraid of in the sea?" asked the little girl after they had swum quite a while in silence. "one or two things, my dear," answered princess clia. "of course, we mermaids have great powers, being fairies; yet among the sea people is one nearly as powerful as we are, and that is the devilfish." "i know," said trot. "i've seen 'em." "you have seen the smaller ones, i suppose, which sometimes rise to the surface or go near the shore, and are often caught by fishermen," said clia, "but they are only second cousins of the terrible deep-sea devilfish to which i refer." "those ones are bad enough, though," declared cap'n bill. "if you know any worse ones, i don't want a interduction to 'em." "the monster devilfish inhabit caves in the rugged, mountainous regions of the ocean," resumed the princess, "and they are evil spirits who delight in injuring all who meet them. none lives near our palaces, so there is little danger of your meeting any while you are our guests." "i hope we won't," said trot. "none for me," added cap'n bill. "devils of any sort ought to be give a wide berth, an' devilfish is worser ner sea serpents." "oh, do you know the sea serpents?" asked merla as if surprised. "not much i don't," answered the sailor, "but i've heard tell of folks as has seen 'em." "did they ever live to tell the tale?" asked trot. "sometimes," he replied. "they're jes' orful creatures, mate." "how easy it is to be mistaken," said princess clia softly. "we know the sea serpents very well, and we like them." "you do!" exclaimed trot. "yes, dear. there are only three of them in all the world, and not only are they harmless, but quite bashful and shy. they are kind-hearted, too, and although not beautiful in appearance, they do many kind deeds and are generally beloved." "where do they live?" asked the child. "the oldest one, who is king of this ocean, lives quite near us," said clia. "his name is anko." "how old is he?" inquired cap'n bill curiously. "no one knows. he was here before the ocean came, and he stayed here because he learned to like the water better than the land as a habitation. perhaps king anko is ten thousand years old, perhaps twenty thousand. we often lose track of the centuries down here in the sea." "that's pretty old, isn't it?" said trot. "older than cap'n bill, i guess." "summat," chuckled the sailor man, "summat older, mate, but not much. p'raps the sea serpent ain't got gray whiskers." "oh yes he has," responded merla with a laugh. "and so have his two brothers, unko and inko. they each have an ocean of their own, you know; and once every hundred years they come here to visit their brother anko. so we've seen all three many times." "why, how old are mermaids, then?" asked trot, looking around at the beautiful creatures wonderingly. "we are like all ladies of uncertain age," rejoined the princess with a smile. "we don't care to tell." "older than cap'n bill?" "yes, dear," said clia. "but we haven't any gray whiskers," added merla merrily, "and our hearts are ever young." trot was thoughtful. it made her feel solemn to be in the company of such old people. the band of mermaids seemed to all appearances young and fresh and not a bit as if they'd been soaked in water for hundreds of years. the girl began to take more notice of the sea maidens following after her. more than a dozen were in the group; all were lovely in appearance and clothed in the same gauzy robes as merla and the princess. these attendants did not join in the conversation but darted here and there in sportive play, and often trot heard the tinkling chorus of their laughter. whatever doubts might have arisen in the child's mind through the ignorant tales of her sailor friend, she now found the mermaids to be light-hearted, joyous and gay, and from the first she had not been in the least afraid of her new companions. "how much farther do we have to go?" asked cap'n bill presently. "are you getting tired?" merla inquired. "no," said he, "but i'm sorter anxious to see what your palaces look like. inside the water ain't as interestin' as the top of it. it's fine swimmin', i'll agree, an' i like it, but there ain't nuthin' special to see that i can make out." "that is true, sir," replied the princess. "we have purposely led you through the mid-water hoping you would see nothing to alarm you until you get more accustomed to our ocean life. moreover, we are able to travel more swiftly here. how far do you think we have already come, cap'n?" "oh, 'bout two mile," he answered. "well, we are now hundreds of miles from the cave where we started," she told him. "you don't mean it!" he exclaimed in wonder. "then there's magic in it," announced trot soberly. "true, my dear. to avoid tiring you and to save time, we have used a little of our fairy power," said clia. "the result is that we are nearing our home. let us go downward a bit, now, for you must know that the mermaid palaces are at the very bottom of the ocean, and in its deepest part." chapter 4 the palace of queen aquareine trot was surprised to find it was not at all dark or gloomy as they descended farther into the deep sea. things were not quite so clear to her eyes as they had been in the bright sunshine above the ocean's surface, but every object was distinct nevertheless, as if she saw through a pane of green-tainted glass. the water was very clear except for this green shading, and the little girl had never before felt so light and buoyant as she did now. it was no effort at all to dart through the water, which seemed to support her on all sides. "i don't believe i weigh anything at all," she said to cap'n bill. "no more do i, trot," said he. "but that's nat'ral, seein' as we're under water so far. what bothers me most is how we manage to breathe, havin' no gills like fishes have." "are you sure we haven't any gills?" she asked, lifting her free hand to feel her throat. "sure. ner the mermaids haven't any, either," declared cap'n bill. "then," said trot, "we're breathing by magic." the mermaids laughed at this shrewd remark, and the princess said, "you have guessed correctly, my dear. go a little slower, now, for the palaces are in sight." "where?" asked trot eagerly. "just before you." "in that grove of trees?" inquired the girl. and really, it seemed to her that they were approaching a beautiful grove. the bottom of the sea was covered with white sand, in which grew many varieties of sea shrubs with branches like those of trees. not all of them were green, however, for the branches and leaves were of a variety of gorgeous colors. some were purple, shading down to a light lavender; and there were reds all the way from a delicate rose-pink to vivid shades of scarlet. orange, yellow and blue shades were there, too, mingling with the sea-greens in a most charming manner. altogether, trot found the brilliant coloring somewhat bewildering. these sea shrubs, which in size were quite as big and tall as the trees on earth, were set so close together that their branches entwined; but there were several avenues leading into the groves, and at the entrance to each avenue the girl noticed several large fishes with long spikes growing upon their noses. "those are swordfishes," remarked the princess as she led the band past one of these avenues. "are they dang'rous?" asked trot. "not to us," was the reply. "the swordfishes are among our most valued and faithful servants, guarding the entrances to the gardens which surround our palaces. if any creatures try to enter uninvited, these guards fight them and drive them away. their swords are sharp and strong, and they are fierce fighters, i assure you." "i've known 'em to attack ships, an' stick their swords right through the wood," said cap'n bill. "those belonged to the wandering tribes of swordfishes," explained the princess. "these, who are our servants, are too sensible and intelligent to attack ships." the band now headed into a broad passage through the "gardens," as the mermaids called these gorgeous groves, and the great swordfishes guarding the entrance made way for them to pass, afterward resuming their posts with watchful eyes. as they slowly swam along the avenue, trot noticed that some of the bushes seemed to have fruits growing upon them, but what these fruits might be neither she nor cap'n bill could guess. the way wound here and there for some distance, till finally they came to a more open space all carpeted with sea flowers of exquisite colorings. although trot did not know it, these flowers resembled the rare orchids of earth in their fanciful shapes and marvelous hues. the child did not examine them very closely, for across the carpet of flowers loomed the magnificent and extensive palaces of the mermaids. these palaces were built of coral; white, pink and yellow being used, and the colors arranged in graceful designs. the front of the main palace, which now faced them, had circular ends connecting the straight wall, not unlike the architecture we are all familiar with; yet there seemed to be no windows to the building, although a series of archways served as doors. arriving at one of the central archways, the band of sea maidens separated. princess clia and merla leading trot and cap'n bill into the palace, while the other mermaids swam swiftly away to their own quarters. "welcome!" said clia in her sweet voice. "here you are surrounded only by friends and are in perfect safety. please accept our hospitality as freely as you desire, for we consider you honored guests. i hope you will like our home," she added a little shyly. "we are sure to, dear princess," trot hastened to say. then clia escorted them through the archway and into a lofty hall. it was not a mere grotto, but had smoothly built walls of pink coral inlaid with white. trot at first thought there was no roof, for looking upward she could see the water all above them. but the princess, reading her thought, said with a smile, "yes, there is a roof, or we would be unable to keep all the sea people out of our palace. but the roof is made of glass to admit the light." "glass!" cried the astonished child. "then it must be an awful big pane of glass." "it is," agreed clia. "our roofs are considered quite wonderful, and we owe them to the fairy powers of our queen. of course, you understand there is no natural way to make glass under water." "no indeed," said cap'n bill. and then he asked, "does your queen live here?" "yes. she is waiting now, in her throne room, to welcome you. shall we go in?" "i'd just as soon," replied trot rather timidly, but she boldly followed the princess, who glided through another arch into another small room where several mermaids were reclining upon couches of coral. they were beautifully dressed and wore many sparkling jewels. "her majesty is awaiting the strangers, princess clia," announced one of these. "you are asked to enter at once." "come, then," said clia, and once more taking trot's hand, she led the girl through still another arch, while merla followed just behind them, escorting cap'n bill. they now entered an apartment so gorgeous that the child fairly gasped with astonishment. the queen's throne room was indeed the grandest and most beautiful chamber in all the ocean palaces. its coral walls were thickly inlaid with mother-of-pearl, exquisitely shaded and made into borders and floral decorations. in the corners were cabinets, upon the shelves of which many curious shells were arranged, all beautifully polished. the floor glittered with gems arranged in patterns of flowers, like a brilliant carpet. near the center of the room was a raised platform of mother-of-pearl upon which stood a couch thickly studded with diamonds, rubies, emeralds and pearls. here reclined queen aquareine, a being so lovely that trot gazed upon her spellbound and cap'n bill took off his sailor cap and held it in his hands. all about the room were grouped other mother-of-pearl couches, not raised like that of the queen, and upon each of these reclined a pretty mermaid. they could not sit down as we do, trot readily understood, because of their tails; but they rested very gracefully upon the couches with their trailing gauzy robes arranged in fleecy folds. when clia and merla escorted the strangers down the length of the great room toward the royal throne, they met with pleasant looks and smiles on every side, for the sea maidens were too polite to indulge in curious stares. they paused just before the throne, and the queen raised her head upon one elbow to observe them. "welcome, mayre," she said, "and welcome, cap'n bill. i trust you are pleased with your glimpse of the life beneath the surface of our sea." "i am," answered trot, looking admiringly at the beautiful face of the queen. "it's all mighty cur'ous an' strange-like," said the sailor slowly. "i'd no idee you mermaids were like this, at all!" "allow me to explain that it was to correct your wrong ideas about us that led me to invite you to visit us," replied the queen. "we usually pay little heed to the earth people, for we are content in our own dominions; but, of course, we know all that goes on upon your earth. so when princess clia chanced to overhear your absurd statements concerning us, we were greatly amused and decided to let you see with your own eyes just what we are like." "i'm glad you did," answered cap'n bill, dropping his eyes in some confusion as he remembered his former description of the mermaids. "now that you are here," continued the queen in a cordial, friendly tone, "you may as well remain with us a few days and see the wonderful sights of our ocean." "i'm much obliged to you, ma'am," said trot, "and i'd like to stay ever so much, but mother worries jus' dreadfully if we don't get home in time." "i'll arrange all that," said aquareine with a smile. "how?" asked the girl. "i will make your mother forget the passage of time so she will not realize how long you are away. then she cannot worry." "can you do that?" inquired trot. "very easily. i will send your mother into a deep sleep that will last until you are ready to return home. just at present she is seated in her chair by the front window, engaged in knitting." the queen paused to raise an arm and wave it slowly to and fro. then she added, "now your good mother is asleep, little mayre, and instead of worries i promise her pleasant dreams." "won't someone rob the house while she's asleep?" asked the child anxiously. "no, dear. my charm will protect the house from any intrusion." "that's fine!" exclaimed trot in delight. "it's jes' won-erful!" said cap'n bill. "i wish i knew it was so. trot's mother has a awful sharp tongue when she's worried." "you may see for yourselves," declared the queen, and waved her hand again. at once they saw before them the room in the cottage, with mayre's mother asleep by the window. her knitting was in her lap, and the cat lay curled up beside her chair. it was all so natural that trot thought she could hear the clock over the fireplace tick. after a moment the scene faded away, when the queen asked with another smile, "are you satisfied?" "oh yes!" cried trot. "but how could you do it?" "it is a form of mirage," was the reply. "we are able to bring any earth scene before us whenever we wish. sometimes these scenes are reflected above the water so that mortals also observe them." "i've seen 'em," said cap'n bill, nodding. "i've seen mirages, but i never knowed what caused 'em afore now." "whenever you see anything you do not understand and wish to ask questions, i will be very glad to answer them," said the queen. "one thing that bothers me," said trot, "is why we don't get wet, being in the ocean with water all around us." "that is because no water really touches you," explained the queen. "your bodies have been made just like those of the mermaids in order that you may fully enjoy your visit to us. one of our peculiar qualities is that water is never permitted to quite touch our bodies, or our gowns. always there remains a very small space, hardly a hair's breadth, between us and the water, which is the reason we are always warm and dry." "i see," said trot. "that's why you don't get soggy or withered." "exactly," laughed the queen, and the other mermaids joined in her merriment. "i s'pose that's how we can breathe without gills," remarked cap'n bill thoughtfully. "yes. the air space is constantly replenished from the water, which contains air, and this enables us to breathe as freely as you do upon the earth." "but we have fins," said trot, looking at the fin that stood upright on cap'n bill's back. "yes. they allow us to guide ourselves as we swim, and so are very useful," replied the queen. "they make us more finished," said cap'n bill with a chuckle. then, suddenly becoming grave, he added, "how about my rheumatics, ma'am? ain't i likely to get stiffened up with all this dampness?" "no indeed," aquareine answered. "there is no such thing as rheumatism in all our dominions. i promise no evil result shall follow this visit to us, so please be as happy and contented as possible." chapter 5 the sea-serpent just then trot happened to look up at the glass roof and saw a startling sight. a big head with a face surrounded by stubby gray whiskers was poised just over them, and the head was connected with a long, curved body that looked much like a sewer pipe. "oh, there is king anko," said the queen, following the child's gaze. "open a door and let him in, clia, for i suppose our old friend is anxious to see the earth people." "won't he hurt us?" asked the little girl with a shiver of fear. "who, anko? oh no, my dear! we are very fond of the sea serpent, who is king of this ocean, although he does not rule the mermaids. old anko is a very agreeable fellow, as you will soon discover." "can he talk?" asked trot. "yes indeed." "and can we understand what he says?" "perfectly," replied the queen. "i have given you power, while you remain here, to understand the language of every inhabitant of the sea." "that's nice," said trot gratefully. the princess clia swam slowly to one of the walls of the throne room where, at a wave of her hand, a round hole appeared in the coral. the sea serpent at once observed this opening and the head left the roof of glass only to reappear presently at the round hole. through this he slowly crawled until his head was just beneath the throne of queen aquareine, who said to him: "good morning, your majesty. i hope you are quite well?" "quite well, thank your majesty," answered anko; and then he turned to the strangers. "i suppose these are the earth folks you were expecting?" "yes," returned the queen. "the girl is named mayre and the man cap'n bill." while the sea serpent looked at the visitors, they ventured to look at him. he certainly was a queer creature, yet trot decided he was not at all frightful. his head was round as a ball, but his ears were sharp-pointed and had tassels at the ends of them. his nose was flat, and his mouth very wide indeed, but his eyes were blue and gentle in expression. the white, stubby hairs that surrounded his face were not thick like a beard, but scattered and scraggly. from the head, the long, brown body of the sea serpent extended to the hole in the coral wall, which was just big enough to admit it; and how much more of the body remained outside the child could not tell. on the back of the body were several fins, which made the creature look more like an eel than a serpent. "the girl is young and the man is old," said king anko in a soft voice. "but i'm quite sure cap'n bill isn't as old as i am." "how old are you?" asked the sailor. "i can't say exactly. i can remember several thousands of years back, but beyond that my memory fails me. how's your memory, cap'n bill?" "you've got me beat," was the reply. "i'll give in that you're older than i am." this seemed to please the sea serpent. "are you well?" he asked. "pretty fair," said cap'n bill. "how's yourself?" "oh, i'm very well, thank you," answered anko. "i never remember to have had a pain but three times in my life. the last time was when julius sneezer was on earth." "you mean julius caesar," said trot, correcting him. "no, i mean julius sneezer," insisted the sea serpent. "that was his real name--sneezer. they called him caesar sometimes just because he took everything he could lay hands on. i ought to know, because i saw him when he was alive. did you see him when he was alive, cap'n bill?" "i reckon not," admitted the sailor. "that time i had a toothache," continued anko, "but i got a lobster to pull the tooth with his claw, so the pain was soon over." "did it hurt to pull it?" asked trot. "hurt!" exclaimed the sea serpent, groaning at the recollection. "my dear, those creatures have been called lobsters ever since! the second pain i had way back in the time of nevercouldnever." "oh, i s'pose you mean nebuchadnezzar," said trot. "do you call him that now?" asked the sea serpent as if surprised. "he used to be called nevercouldnever when he was alive, but this new way of spelling seems to get everything mixed up. nebuchadnezzar doesn't mean anything at all, it seems to me." "it means he ate grass," said the child. "oh no, he didn't," declared the sea serpent. "he was the first to discover that lettuce was good to eat, and he became very fond of it. the people may have called it grass, but they were wrong. i ought to know, because i was alive when nevercouldnever lived. were you alive, then?" "no," said trot. "the pain i had then," remarked anko, "was caused by a kink in my tail about three hundred feet from the end. there was an old octopus who did not like me, and so he tied a knot in my tail when i wasn't looking." "what did you do?" asked cap'n bill. "well, first i transformed the octopus into a jellyfish, and then i waited for the tide to turn. when my tail was untied, the pain stopped." "i--i don't understand that," said trot, somewhat bewildered. "thank you, my dear," replied the sea serpent in a grateful voice. "people who are always understood are very common. you are sure to respect those you can't understand, for you feel that perhaps they know more than you do." "about how long do you happen to be?" inquired cap'n bill. "when last measured, i was seven thousand four hundred and eighty-two feet, five inches and a quarter. i'm not sure about the quarter, but the rest is probably correct. adam measured me when cain was a baby." "where's the rest of you, then?" asked trot. "safe at home, i hope, and coiled up in my parlor," answered the sea serpent. "when i go out, i usually take along only what is needed. it saves a lot of bother and i can always find my way back in the darkest night by just coiling up the part that has been away." "do you like to be a sea serpent?" inquired the child. "yes, for i'm king of my ocean, and there is no other sea serpent to imagine he is just as good as i am. i have two brothers who live in other oceans, but one is seven inches shorter than i am, and the other several feet shorter. it's curious to talk about feet when we haven't any feet, isn't it?" "seems so," acknowledged trot. "i feel i have much to be proud of," continued anko in a dreamy tone. "my great age, my undisputed sway, and my exceptional length." "i don't b'lieve i'd care to live so long," remarked cap'n bill thoughtfully. "so long as seven thousand four hundred and eighty-two feet, five inches and a quarter?" asked the sea serpent. "no, i mean so many years," replied the sailor. "but what can one do if one happens to be a sea serpent?" anko inquired. "there is nothing in the sea that can hurt me, and i cannot commit suicide because we have no carbolic acid or firearms or gas to turn on. so it isn't a matter of choice, and i'd about as soon be alive as dead. it does not seem quite so monotonous, you know. but i guess i've stayed about long enough, so i'll go home to dinner. come and see me when you have time." "thank you," said trot, and merla added, "i'll take you over to his majesty's palace when we go out and let you see how he lives." "yes, do," said anko. and then he slowly slid out of the hole, which immediately closed behind him, leaving the coral wall as solid as before. "oh!" exclaimed trot. "king anko forgot to tell us what his third pain was about." "so he did," said cap'n bill. "we must ask him about that when we see him. but i guess the ol' boy's mem'ry is failin', an' he can't be depended on for pertic'lars." chapter 6 exploring the ocean the queen now requested her guests to recline upon couches that they might rest themselves from their long swim and talk more at their ease. so the girl and the sailor allowed themselves to float downward until they rested their bodies on two of the couches nearest the throne, which were willingly vacated for them by the mermaids who occupied them until then. the visitors soon found themselves answering a great many questions about their life on the earth, for although the queen had said she kept track of what was going on on the land, there were many details of human life in which all the mermaids seemed greatly interested. during the conversation several sea-maids came swimming into the room bearing trays of sea apples and other fruit, which they first offered to the queen, and then passed the refreshments around to the company assembled. trot and cap'n bill each took some, and the little girl found the fruits delicious to eat, as they had a richer flavor than any that grew upon land. queen aquareine was much pleased when the old sailor asked for more, but merla warned him dinner would soon be served and he must take care not to spoil his appetite for that meal. "our dinner is at noon, for we have to cook in the middle of the day when the sun is shining," she said. "cook!" cried trot. "why, you can't build a fire in the water, can you?" "we have no need of fires," was the reply. "the glass roof of our kitchen is so curved that it concentrates the heat of the sun's rays, which are then hot enough to cook anything we wish." "but how do you get along if the day is cloudy, and the sun doesn't shine?" inquired the little girl. "then we use the hot springs that bubble up in another part of the palace," merla answered. "but the sun is the best to cook by." so it was no surprise to trot when, about noon, dinner was announced and all the mermaids, headed by their queen and their guests, swam into another spacious room where a great, long table was laid. the dishes were of polished gold and dainty-cut glass, and the cloth and napkins of fine gossamer. around the table were ranged rows of couches for the mermaids to recline upon as they ate. only the nobility and favorites of queen aquareine were invited to partake of this repast, for clia explained that tables were set for the other mermaids in different parts of the numerous palaces. trot wondered who would serve the meal, but her curiosity was soon satisfied when several large lobsters came sliding into the room backward, bearing in their claws trays loaded with food. each of these lobsters had a golden band behind its neck to show it was the slave of the mermaids. these curious waiters were fussy creatures, and trot found much amusement in watching their odd motions. they were so spry and excitable that at times they ran against one another and upset the platters of food, after which they began to scold and argue as to whose fault it was, until one of the mermaids quietly rebuked them and asked them to be more quiet and more careful. the queen's guests had no cause to complain of the dinner provided. first the lobsters served bowls of turtle soup, which proved hot and deliciously flavored. then came salmon steaks fried in fish oil, with a fungus bread that tasted much like field mushrooms. oysters, clams, soft-shell crabs and various preparations of seafoods followed. the salad was a delicate leaf from some seaweed that trot thought was much nicer than lettuce. several courses were served, and the lobsters changed the plates with each course, chattering and scolding as they worked, and as trot said, "doing everything backwards" in their nervous, fussy way. many of the things offered them to eat were unknown to the visitors, and the child was suspicious of some of them, but cap'n bill asked no questions and ate everything offered him, so trot decided to follow his example. certain it is they found the meal very satisfying, and evidently there was no danger of their being hungry while they remained the guests of the mermaids. when the fruits came, trot thought that must be the last course of the big dinner, but following the fruits were ice creams frozen into the shape of flowers. "how funny," said the child, "to be eating ice cream at the bottom of the sea." "why does that surprise you?" inquired the queen. "i can't see where you get the ice to freeze it," trot replied. "it is brought to us from the icebergs that float in the northern parts of the ocean," explained merla. "o' course, trot. you orter thought o' that. i did," said cap'n bill. the little girl was glad there was no more to eat, for she was ashamed to feel she had eaten every morsel she could. her only excuse for being so greedy was that "ev'rything tasted just splendid!" as she told the queen. "and now," said aquareine, "i will send you out for a swim with merla, who will show you some of the curious sights of our sea. you need not go far this afternoon, and when you return, we will have another interesting talk together." so the blonde mermaid led trot and cap'n bill outside the palace walls, where they found themselves in the pretty flower gardens. "i'd feel all right, mate, if i could have a smoke," remarked the old sailor to the child, "but that's a thing as can't be did here in the water." "why not?" asked merla, who overheard him. "a pipe has to be lighted, an' a match wouldn't burn," he replied. "try it," suggested the mermaid. "i do not mind your smoking at all, if it will give you pleasure." "it's a bad habit i've got, an' i'm too old to break myself of it," said cap'n bill. then he felt in the big pocket of his coat and took out a pipe and a bag of tobacco. after he had carefully filled his pipe, rejoicing in the fact that the tobacco was not at all wet, he took out his matchbox and struck a light. the match burned brightly, and soon the sailor was puffing the smoke from his pipe in great contentment. the smoke ascended through the water in the shape of bubbles, and trot wondered what anyone who happened to be floating upon the surface of the ocean would think to see smoke coming from the water. "well, i find i can smoke, all right," remarked cap'n bill, "but it bothers me to understand why." "it is because of the air space existing between the water and everything you have about you," explained merla. "but now, if you will come this way, i will take you to visit some of our neighbors." they passed over the carpet of sea flowers, the gorgeous blossoms swaying on their stems as the motion of the people in the water above them disturbed their repose, and presently the three entered the dense shrubbery surrounding the palace. they had not proceeded far when they came to a clearing among the bushes, and here merla paused. trot and cap'n bill paused, too, for floating in the clear water was a group of beautiful shapes that the child thought looked like molds of wine jelly. they were round as a dinner plate, soft and transparent, but tinted in such lovely hues that no artist's brush has ever been able to imitate them. some were deep sapphire blue; others rose pink; still others a delicate topaz color. they seemed to have neither heads, eyes nor ears, yet it was easy to see they were alive and able to float in any direction they wished to go. in shape they resembled inverted flowerpots, with the upper edges fluted, and from the centers floated what seemed to be bouquets of flowers. "how pretty!" exclaimed trot, enraptured by the sight. "yes, this is a rare variety of jellyfish," replied merla. "the creatures are not so delicate as they appear, and live for a long time--unless they get too near the surface and the waves wash them ashore." after watching the jellyfish a few moments, they followed merla through the grove, and soon a low chant, like that of an indian song, fell upon their ears. it was a chorus of many small voices and grew louder as they swam on. presently a big rock rose suddenly before them from the bottom of the sea, rearing its steep side far up into the water overhead, and this rock was thickly covered with tiny shells that clung fast to its surface. the chorus they heard appeared to come from these shells, and merla said to her companions, "these are the singing barnacles. they are really very amusing, and if you listen carefully, you can hear what they say." so trot and cap'n bill listened, and this is what the barnacles sang: "we went to topsy-turvy land to see a man-o'-war, and we were much attached to it, because we simply were; we found an anchor-ite within the mud upon the lea for the ghost of jonah's whale he ran away and went to sea. oh, it was awful! it was unlawful! we rallied round the flag in sev'ral millions; they couldn't shake us; they had to take us; so the halibut and cod they danced cotillions." "what does it all mean?" asked trot. "i suppose they refer to the way barnacles have of clinging to ships," replied merla, "but usually the songs mean nothing at all. the little barnacles haven't many brains, so we usually find their songs quite stupid." "do they write some comic operas?" asked the child. "i think not," answered the mermaid. "they seem to like the songs themselves," remarked cap'n bill. "oh yes, they sing all day long. but it never matters to them whether their songs mean anything or not. let us go in this direction and visit some other sea people." so they swam away from the barnacle-covered rock, and trot heard the last chorus as she slowly followed their conductor. the barnacles were singing: "oh, very well, then, i hear the curfew, please go away and come some other day; goliath tussels with samson's muscles, yet the muscles never fight in oyster bay." "it's jus' nonsense!" said trot scornfully. "why don't they sing 'annie laurie' or 'home, sweet home' or else keep quiet?" "why, if they were quiet," replied merla, "they wouldn't be singing barnacles." they now came to one of the avenues which led from the sea garden out into the broad ocean, and here two swordfishes were standing guard. "is all quiet?" merla asked them. "just as usual, your highness," replied one of the guards. "mummercubble was sick this morning and grunted dreadfully, but he's better now and has gone to sleep. king anko has been stirring around some, but is now taking his after-dinner nap. i think it will be perfectly safe for you to swim out for a while, if you wish." "who's mummercubble?" asked trot as they passed out into deep water. "he's the sea pig," replied merla. "i am glad he's asleep, for now we won't meet him." "don't you like him?" inquired trot. "oh, he complains so bitterly of everything that he bores us," merla answered. "mummercubble is never contented or happy for a single minute." "i've seen people like that," said cap'n bill with a nod of his head. "an' they has a way of upsettin' the happiest folks they meet." "look out!" suddenly cried the mermaid. "look out for your fingers! here are the snapping eels." "who? where?" asked trot anxiously. and now they were in the midst of a cluster of wriggling, darting eels which sported all around them in the water with marvelous activity. "yes, look out for your fingers and your noses!" said one of the eels, making a dash for cap'n bill. at first the sailor was tempted to put out a hand and push the creature away, but remembering that his fingers would thus be exposed, he remained quiet, and the eel snapped harmlessly just before his face and then darted away. "stop it!" said merla. "stop it this minute, or i'll report your impudence to aquareine." "oh, who cares?" shouted the eels. "we're not afraid of the mermaids." "she'll stiffen you up again, as she did once before," said merla, "if you try to hurt the earth people." "are these earth people?" asked one. and then they all stopped their play and regarded trot and cap'n bill with their little black eyes. "the old polliwog looks something like king anko," said one of them. "i'm not a polliwog!" answered cap'n bill angrily. "i'm a respec'ble sailor man, an' i'll have you treat me decent or i'll know why." "sailor!" said another. "that means to float on the water--not in it. what are you doing down here?" "i'm jes' a-visitin'," answered cap'n bill. "he is the guest of our queen," said merla, "and so is this little girl. if you do not behave nicely to them, you will surely be sorry." "oh, that's all right," replied one of the biggest eels, wriggling around in a circle and then snapping at a companion, which as quickly snapped out of his way. "we know how to be polite to company as well as the mermaids. we won't hurt them." "come on, fellows, let's go scare old mummercubble," cried another; and then in a flash they all darted away and left our friends to themselves. trot was greatly relieved. "i don't like eels," she said. "they are more mischievous than harmful," replied merla, "but i do not care much for them myself." "no," added cap'n bill, "they ain't respec'ful." chapter 7 the aristocratic codfish the three swam slowly along, quite enjoying the cool depths of the water. every little while they met with some strange creature--or one that seemed strange to the earth people--for although trot and cap'n bill had seen many kinds of fish, after they had been caught and pulled from the water, that was very different from meeting them in their own element, "face to face," as trot expressed it. now that the various fishes were swimming around free and unafraid in their deep-sea home, they were quite different from the gasping, excited creatures struggling at the end of a fishline or flopping from a net. before long they came upon a group of large fishes lying lazily near the bottom of the sea. they were a dark color upon their backs and silver underneath, but not especially pretty to look at. the fishes made no effort to get out of merla's way and remained motionless except for the gentle motion of their fins and gills. "here," said the mermaid, pausing, "is the most aristocratic family of fish in all the sea." "what are they?" asked the girl. "codfish," was the reply. "their only fault is that they are too haughty and foolishly proud of their pedigree." overhearing this speech, one codfish said to another in a very dignified tone of voice, "what insolence!" "isn't it?" replied the other. "there ought to be a law to prevent these common mermaids from discussing their superiors." "my sakes!" said trot, astonished. "how stuck up they are, aren't they?" for a moment the group of fishes stared at her solemnly. then one of the remarked in a disdainful manner, "come, my dear, let us leave these vulgar creatures." "i'm not as vulgar as you are!" exclaimed trot, much offended by this speech. "where i come from, we only eat codfish when there's nothing else in the house to eat." "how absurd!" observed one of the creatures arrogantly. "eat codfish indeed!" said another in a lofty manner. "yes, and you're pretty salty, too, i can tell you. at home you're nothing but a pick-up!" said trot. "dear me!" exclaimed the first fish who had spoken. "must we stand this insulting language--and from a person to whom we have never been introduced?" "i don't need no interduction," replied the girl. "i've eaten you, and you always make me thirsty." merla laughed merrily at this, and the codfish said, with much dignity, "come, fellow aristocrats, let us go." "never mind, we're going ourselves," announced merla, and followed by her guests the pretty mermaid swam away. "i've heard tell of codfish aristocracy," said cap'n bill, "but i never knowed 'zac'ly what it meant afore." "they jus' made me mad with all their airs," observed trot, "so i gave 'em a piece of my mind." "you surely did, mate," said the sailor, "but i ain't sure they understand what they're like when they're salted an' hung up in the pantry. folks gener'ly gets stuck-up 'cause they don't know theirselves like other folks knows 'em." "we are near crabville now," declared merla. "shall we visit the crabs and see what they are doing?" "yes, let's," replied trot. "the crabs are lots of fun. i've often caught them among the rocks on the shore and laughed at the way they act. wasn't it funny at dinnertime to see the way they slid around with the plates?" "those were not crabs, but lobsters and crawfish," remarked the mermaid. "they are very intelligent creatures, and by making them serve us we save ourselves much household work. of course, they are awkward and provoke us sometimes, but no servants are perfect, it is said, so we get along with ours as well as we can." "they're all right," protested the child, "even if they did tip things over once in a while. but it is easy to work in a sea palace, i'm sure, because there's no dusting or sweeping to be done." "or scrubbin'," added cap'n bill. "the crabs," said merla, "are second cousins to the lobsters, although much smaller in size. there are many families or varieties of crabs, and so many of them live in one place near here that we call it crabville. i think you will enjoy seeing these little creatures in their native haunts." they now approached a kelp bed, the straight, thin stems of the kelp running far upward to the surface of the water. here and there upon the stalks were leaves, but trot thought the growing kelp looked much like sticks of macaroni, except they were a rich red-brown color. it was beyond the kelp--which they had to push aside as they swam through, so thickly did it grow--that they came to a higher level, a sort of plateau on the ocean's bottom. it was covered with scattered rocks of all sizes, which appeared to have broken off from big shelving rocks they observed nearby. the place they entered seemed like one of the rocky canyons you often see upon the earth. "here live the fiddler crabs," said merla, "but we must have taken them by surprise, it is so quiet." even as she spoke, there was a stirring and scrambling among the rocks, and soon scores of light-green crabs were gathered before the visitors. the crabs bore fiddles of all sorts and shapes in their claws, and one big fellow carried a leader's baton. the latter crab climbed upon a flat rock and in an excited voice called out, "ready, now--ready, good fiddlers. we'll play number 19, hail to the mermaids. ready! take aim! fire away!" at this command every crab began scraping at his fiddle as hard as he could, and the sounds were so shrill and unmusical that trot wondered when they would begin to play a tune. but they never did; it was one regular mix-up of sounds from beginning to end. when the noise finally stopped, the leader turned to his visitors and, waving his baton toward them, asked, "well, what did you think of that?" "not much," said trot honestly. "what's it all about?" "i composed it myself!" said the fiddler crab. "but it's highly classical, i admit. all really great music is an acquired taste." "i don't like it," remarked cap'n bill. "it might do all right to stir up a racket new year's eve, but to call that screechin' music--" just then the crabs started fiddling again, harder than ever, and as it promised to be a long performance, they left the little creatures scraping away at their fiddles as if for dear life and swam along the rocky canyon until, on turning a corner, they came upon a new and different scene. there were crabs here, too, many of them, and they were performing the queerest antics imaginable. some were building themselves into a pyramid, each standing on edge, with the biggest and strongest ones at the bottom. when the crabs were five or six rows high, they would all tumble over, still clinging to one another and, having reached the ground, they would separate and commence to build the pyramid over again. others were chasing one another around in a circle, always moving backward or sidewise, and trying to play "leapfrog" as they went. still others were swinging on slight branches of seaweed or turning cartwheels or indulging in similar antics. merla and the earth people watched the busy little creatures for some time before they were themselves observed, but finally trot gave a laugh when one crab fell on its back and began frantically waving its legs to get right-side-up again. at the sound of her laughter they all stopped their play and came toward the visitors in a flock, looking up at them with their bright eyes in a most comical way. "welcome home!" cried one as he turned a back somersault and knocked another crab over. "what's the difference between a mermaid and a tadpole?" asked another in a loud voice, and without a pause continued, "why, one drops its tail and the other holds onto it. ha, ha! ho, ho! hee, hee!" "these," said merla, "are the clown crabs. they are very silly things, as you may already have discovered, but for a short time they are rather amusing. one tires of them very soon." "they're funny," said trot, laughing again. "it's almost as good as a circus. i don't think they would make me tired, but then i'm not a mermaid." the clown crabs had now formed a row in front of them. "mr. johnsing," asked one, "why is a mermaid like an automobile?" "i don't know, tommy blimken," answered a big crab in the middle of the row. "why do you think a mermaid is like an automobile?" "because they both get tired," said tommy blimken. then all the crabs laughed, and tommy seemed to laugh louder than the rest. "how do the crabs in the sea know anything 'bout automobiles?" asked trot. "why, tommy blimken and harry hustle were both captured once by humans and put in an aquarium," answered the mermaid. "but one day they climbed out and escaped, finally making their way back to the sea and home again. so they are quite traveled, you see, and great favorites among the crabs. while they were on land they saw a great many curious things, and so i suppose they saw automobiles." "we did, we did!" cried harry hustle, an awkward crab with one big claw and one little one. "and we saw earth people with legs, awfully funny they were; and animals called horses, with legs; and other creatures with legs; and the people cover themselves with the queerest things--they even wear feathers and flowers on their heads, and--" "oh, we know all about that," said trot. "we live on the earth ourselves." "well, you're lucky to get off from it and into the good water," said the crab. "i nearly died on the earth; it was so stupid, dry and airy. but the circus was great. they held the performance right in front of the aquarium where we lived, and tommy and i learned all the tricks of the tumblers. hi! come on, fellows, and show the earth people what you can do!" at this the crabs began performing their antics again, but they did the same things over and over, so cap'n bill and trot soon tired, as merla said they would, and decided they had seen enough of the crab circus. so they proceeded to swim farther up the rocky canyon, and near its upper end they came to a lot of conch shells lying upon the sandy bottom. a funny-looking crab was sticking his head out from each of these shells. "these are the hermit crabs," said one of the mermaids. "they steal these shells and live in them so no enemies can attack them." "don't they get lonesome?" asked trot. "perhaps so, my dear. but they do not seem to mind being lonesome. they are great cowards, and think if they can but protect their lives there is nothing else to care for. unlike the jolly crabs we have just left, the hermits are cross and unsociable." "oh, keep quiet and go away!" said one of the hermit crabs in a grumpy voice. "no one wants mermaids around here." then every crab withdrew its head into its shell, and our friends saw them no more. "they're not very polite," observed trot, following the mermaid as merla swam upward into the middle water. "i know now why cross people are called 'crabbed,'" said cap'n bill. "they've got dispositions jes' like these 'ere hermit crabs." presently they came upon a small flock of mackerel, and noticed that the fishes seemed much excited. when they saw the mermaid, they cried out, "oh, merla! what do you think? our flippity has just gone to glory!" "when?" asked the mermaid. "just now," one replied. "we were lying in the water, talking quietly together when a spinning, shining thing came along and our dear flippity ate it. then he went shooting up to the top of the water and gave a flop and--went to glory! isn't it splendid, merla?" "poor flippity!" sighed the mermaid. "i'm sorry, for he was the prettiest and nicest mackerel in your whole flock." "what does it mean?" asked trot. "how did flippity go to glory?" "why, he was caught by a hook and pulled out of the water into some boat," merla explained. "but these poor stupid creatures do not understand that, and when one of them is jerked out of the water and disappears, they have the idea he has gone to glory, which means to them some unknown but beautiful sea." "i've often wondered," said trot, "why fishes are foolish enough to bite on hooks." "they must know enough to know they're hooks," added cap'n bill musingly. "oh, they do," replied merla. "i've seen fishes gather around a hook and look at it carefully for a long time. they all know it is a hook and that if they bite the bait upon it they will be pulled out of the water. but they are curious to know what will happen to them afterward, and think it means happiness instead of death. so finally one takes the hook and disappears, and the others never know what becomes of him." "why don't you tell 'em the truth?" asked trot. "oh, we do. the mermaids have warned them many times, but it does no good at all. the fish are stupid creatures." "but i wish i was flippity," said one of the mackerel, staring at trot with his big, round eyes. "he went to glory before i could eat the hook myself." "you're lucky," answered the child. "flippity will be fried in a pan for someone's dinner. you wouldn't like that, would you?" "flippity has gone to glory!" said another, and then they swam away in haste to tell the news to all they met. "i never heard of anything so foolish," remarked trot as she swam slowly on through the clear, blue water. "yes, it is very foolish and very sad," answered merla. "but if the fish were wise, men could not catch them for food, and many poor people on your earth make their living by fishing." "it seems wicked to catch such pretty things," said the child. "i do not think so," merla replied laughingly, "for they were born to become food for someone, and men are not the only ones that eat fishes. many creatures of the sea feed upon them. they even eat one another at times. and if none was ever destroyed, they would soon become so numerous that they would clog the waters of the ocean and leave no room for the rest of us. so after all, perhaps it is just as well they are thoughtless and foolish." presently they came to some round balls that looked much like balloons in shape and were gaily colored. they floated quietly in the water, and trot inquired what they were. "balloonfish," answered merla. "they are helpless creatures, but have little spikes all over them so their enemies dare not bite them for fear of getting pricked." trot found the balloonfish quite interesting. they had little dots of eyes and dots for mouths, but she could see no noses, and their fins and tails were very small. "they catch these fish in the south sea islands and make lanterns of 'em," said cap'n bill. "they first skin 'em and sew the skin up again to let it dry, and then they put candles inside, and the light shines through the dried skin." many other curious sights they saw in the ocean that afternoon, and both cap'n bill and trot thoroughly enjoyed their glimpse of sea life. at last merla said it was time to return to the palace, from which she claimed they had not at any time been very far distant. "we must prepare for dinner, as it will soon begin to grow dark in the water," continued their conductor. so they swam leisurely back to the groves that surrounded the palaces, and as they entered the gardens the sun sank, and deep shadows began to form in the ocean depths. chapter 8 a banquet under water the palaces of the mermaids were all aglow with lights as they approached them, and trot was amazed at the sight. "where do the lamps come from?" she asked their guide wonderingly. "they are not lamps, my dear," replied merla, much amused at this suggestion. "we use electric lights in our palaces and have done so for thousands of years--long before the earth people knew of electric lights." "but where do you get 'em?" inquired cap'n bill, who was as much astonished as the girl. "from a transparent jellyfish which naturally emits a strong and beautiful electric light," was the answer. "we have many hundreds of them in our palaces, as you will presently see." their way was now lighted by small, phosphorescent creatures scattered about the sea gardens and which merla informed them were hyalaea, or sea glowworms. but their light was dim when compared to that of the electric jellyfish, which they found placed in clusters upon the ceilings of all the rooms of the palaces, rendering them light as day. trot watched these curious creatures with delight, for delicately colored lights ran around their bodies in every direction in a continuous stream, shedding splendid rays throughout the vast halls. a group of mermaids met the visitors in the hall of the main palace and told merla the queen had instructed them to show the guests to their rooms as soon as they arrived. so trot followed two of them through several passages, after which they swam upward and entered a circular opening. there were no stairs here, because there was no need of them, and the little girl soon found herself in an upper room that was very beautiful indeed. all the walls were covered with iridescent shells, polished till they resembled mother-of-pearl, and upon the glass ceiling were clusters of the brilliant electric jellyfish, rendering the room bright and cheerful with their radiance. in one corner stood a couch of white coral, with gossamer draperies hanging around it from the four high posts. upon examining it, the child found the couch was covered with soft, amber sponges, which rendered it very comfortable to lie upon. in a wardrobe she found several beautiful gossamer gowns richly embroidered in colored seaweeds, and these mayre was told she might wear while she remained the guest of the mermaids. she also found a toilet table with brushes, combs and other conveniences, all of which were made of polished tortoise-shell. really, the room was more dainty and comfortable than one might suppose possible in a palace far beneath the surface of the sea, and trot was greatly delighted with her new quarters. the mermaid attendants assisted the child to dress herself in one of the prettiest robes, which she found to be quite dry and fitted her comfortably. then the sea-maids brushed and dressed her hair, and tied it with ribbons of cherry-red seaweed. finally they placed around her neck a string of pearls that would have been priceless upon the earth, and now the little girl announced she was ready for supper and had a good appetite. cap'n bill had been given a similar room near trot, but the old sailor refused to change his clothes for any others offered him, for which reason he was ready for supper long before his comrade. "what bothers me, mate," he said to the little girl as the y swam toward the great banquet hall where queen aquareine awaited them, "is why ain't we crushed by the pressin' of the water agin us, bein' as we're down here in the deep sea." "how's that, cap'n? why should we be crushed?" she asked. "why, ev'r'body knows that the deeper you go in the sea, the more the water presses agin you," he explained. "even the divers in their steel jackets can't stand it very deep down. an' here we be, miles from the top o' the water, i s'pect, an' we don't feel crowded a bit." "i know why," answered the child wisely. "the water don't touch us, you see. if it did, it might crush us, but it don't. it's always held a little way off from our bodies by the magic of the fairy mermaids." "true enough, trot," declared the sailor man. "what an idjut i was not to think o' that myself!" in the royal banquet hall were assembled many of the mermaids, headed by the lovely queen, and as soon as their earth guests arrived, aquareine ordered the meal to be served. the lobsters again waited upon the table, wearing little white caps and aprons which made them look very funny; but trot was so hungry after her afternoon's excursion that she did not pay as much attention to the lobsters as she did to her supper, which was very delicious and consisted of many courses. a lobster spilled some soup on cap'n bill's bald head and made him yell for a minute, because it was hot and he had not expected it, but the queen apologized very sweetly for the awkwardness of her servants, and the sailor soon forgot all about the incident in his enjoyment of the meal. after the feast ended, they all went to the big reception room, where some of the mermaids played upon harps while others sang pretty songs. they danced together, too--a graceful, swimming dance, so queer to the little girl that it interested and amused her greatly. cap'n bill seemed a bit bashful among so many beautiful mermaids, yet he was pleased when the queen offered him a place beside her throne, where he could see and hear all the delightful entertainment provided for the royal guests. he did not talk much, being a man of few words except when alone with trot, but his light-blue eyes were big and round with wonder at the sights he saw. trot and the sailor man went to bed early and slept soundly upon their sponge-covered couches. the little girl never wakened until long after the sun was shining down through the glass roof of her room, and when she opened her eyes she was startled to find a number of big, small and middle-sized fishes staring at her through the glass. "that's one bad thing 'bout this mermaid palace," she said to herself. "it's too public. ever'thing in the sea can look at you through the glass as much as it likes. i wouldn't mind fishes looking at me if they hadn't such big eyes, an'--goodness me! there's a monster that's all head! and there goes a fish with a sail on its back, an' here's old mummercubble, i'm sure, for he's got a head just like a pig." she might have watched the fishes on the roof for hours, had she not remembered it was late and breakfast must be ready. so she dressed and made her toilet, and swam down into the palace to find cap'n bill and the mermaids politely waiting for her to join them. the sea maidens were as fresh and lovely as ever, while each and all proved sweet tempered and merry, even at the breakfast table--and that is where people are cross, if they ever are. during the meal the queen said, "i shall take you this morning to the most interesting part of the ocean, where the largest and most remarkable sea creatures live. and we must visit king anko, too, for the sea serpent would feel hurt and slighted if i did not bring my guests to call upon him." "that will be nice," said trot eagerly. but cap'n bill asked, "is there any danger, ma'am?" "i think not," replied queen aquareine. "i cannot say that you will be exposed to any danger at all, so long as i'm with you. but we are going into the neighborhood of such fierce and even terrible beings which would attack you at once did they suspect you to be earth people. so in order to guard your safety, i intend to draw the magic circle around both of you before we start." "what is the magic circle?" asked trot. "a fairy charm that prevents any enemy from touching you. no monster of the sea, however powerful, will be able to reach your body while you are protected by the magic circle," declared the queen. "oh, then i'll not be a bit afraid," returned the child with perfect confidence. "am i to have the magic circle drawn around me, too?" asked cap'n bill. "of course," answered aquareine. "you will need no other protection than that, yet both princess clia and i will both be with you. for today i shall leave merla to rule our palaces in my place until we return." no sooner was breakfast finished than trot was anxious to start. the girl was also curious to discover what the powerful magic circle might prove to be, but she was a little disappointed in the ceremony. the queen merely grasped her fairy wand in her right hand and swam around the child in a circle, from left to right. then she took her wand in her left hand and swam around trot in another circle, from right to left. "now, my dear," said she, "you are safe from any creature we are liable to meet." she performed the same ceremony for cap'n bill, who was doubtful about the magic circle because he felt the same after it as he had before. but he said nothing of his unbelief, and soon they left the palace and started upon their journey. chapter 9 the bashful octopus it was a lovely day, and the sea was like azure under the rays of the sun. over the flower beds and through the gardens they swam, emerging into the open sea in a direction opposite that taken by the visitors the day before. the party consisted of but four: queen aquareine, princess clia, trot and cap'n bill. "people who live upon the land know only those sea creatures which they are able to catch in nets or upon hooks or those which become disabled and are washed ashore," remarked the queen as they swam swiftly through the clear water. "and those who sail in ships see only the creatures who chance to come to the surface. but in the deep ocean caverns are queer beings that no mortal has ever heard of or beheld, and some of these we are to visit. we shall also see some sea shrubs and flowering weeds which are sure to delight you with their beauty." the sights really began before they had gone very far from the palace, and a school of butterfly fish, having gorgeous colors spattered over their broad wings, was first to delight the strangers. they swam just as butterflies fly, with a darting, jerky motion, and called a merry "good morning!" to the mermaids as they passed. "these butterfly fish are remarkably active," said the princess, "and their quick motions protect them from their enemies. we like to meet them; they are always so gay and good-natured." "why, so am i!" cried a sharp voice just beside them, and they all paused to discover what creature had spoken to them. "take care," said clia in a low voice. "it's an octopus." trot looked eagerly around. a long, brown arm stretched across their way in front and another just behind them, but that did not worry her. the octopus himself came slowly sliding up to them and proved to be well worth looking at. he wore a red coat with brass buttons, and a silk hat was tipped over one ear. his eyes were somewhat dull and watery, and he had a moustache of long, hair-like "feelers" that curled stiffly at the ends. when he tried to smile at them, he showed two rows of sharp, white teeth. in spite of his red coat and yellow-embroidered vest, his standing collar and carefully tied cravat, the legs of the octopus were bare, and trot noticed he used some of his legs for arms, as in one of them was held a slender cane and in another a handkerchief. "well, well!" said the octopus. "are you all dumb? or don't you know enough to be civil when you meet a neighbor?" "we know how to be civil to our friends," replied trot, who did not like the way he spoke. "well, are we not friends, then?" asked the octopus in an airy tone of voice. "i think not," said the little girl. "octopuses are horrid creatures." "octopi, if you please; octopi," said the monster with a laugh. "i don't see any pie that pleases me," replied trot, beginning to get angry. "octopus means one of us; two or more are called octopi," remarked the creature, as if correcting her speech. "i suppose a lot of you would be a whole bakery!" she said scornfully. "our name is latin. it was given to us by learned scientists years ago," said the octopus. "that's true enough," agreed cap'n bill. "the learned scientists named ev'ry blamed thing they come across, an' gener'ly they picked out names as nobody could understand or pernounce." "that isn't our fault, sir," said the octopus. "indeed, it's pretty hard for us to go through life with such terrible names. think of the poor little seahorse. he used to be a merry and cheerful fellow, but since they named him 'hippocampus' he hasn't smiled once." "let's go," said trot. "i don't like to 'sociate with octopuses." "octopi," said the creature, again correcting her. "you're jus' as horrid whether you're puses or pies," she declared. "horrid!" cried the monster in a shocked tone of voice. "not only horrid, but horrible!" persisted the girl. "may i ask in what way?" he inquired, and it was easy to see he was offended. "why, ev'rybody knows that octopuses are jus' wicked an' deceitful," she said. "up on the earth, where i live, we call the stannerd oil company an octopus, an' the coal trust an octopus, an'--" "stop, stop!" cried the monster in a pleading voice. "do you mean to tell me that the earth people whom i have always respected compare me to the stannerd oil company?" "yes," said trot positively. "oh, what a disgrace! what a cruel, direful, dreadful disgrace!" moaned the octopus, drooping his head in shame, and trot could see great tears falling down his cheeks. "this comes of having a bad name," said the queen gently, for she was moved by the monster's grief. "it is unjust! it is cruel and unjust!" sobbed the creature mournfully. "just because we have several long arms and take whatever we can reach, they accuse us of being like--like--oh, i cannot say it! it is too shameful, too humiliating." "come, let's go," said trot again. so they left the poor octopus weeping and wiping his watery eyes with his handkerchief and swam on their way. "i'm not a bit sorry for him," remarked the child, "for his legs remind me of serpents." "so they do me," agreed cap'n bill. "but the octopi are not very bad," said the princess, "and we get along with them much better than we do with their cousins, the sea devils." "oh. are the sea devils their cousins?" asked trot. "yes, and they are the only creatures of the ocean which we greatly fear," replied aquareine. "i hope we shall meet none today, for we are going near to the dismal caverns where they live." "what are the sea devils like, ma'am?" inquired cap'n bill a little uneasily. "something like the octopus you just saw, only much larger and of a bright scarlet color, striped with black," answered the queen. "they are very fierce and terrible creatures and nearly as much dreaded by the inhabitants of the ocean as is zog, and nearly as powerful as king anko himself." "zog! who is zog?" questioned the girl. "i haven't heard of him before now." "we do not like to mention zog's name," responded the queen in a low voice. "he is the wicked genius of the sea, and a magician of great power." "what's he like?" asked cap'n bill. "he is a dreadful creature, part fish, part man, part beast and part serpent. centuries ago they cast him off the earth into the sea, where he has caused much trouble. once he waged a terrible war against king anko, but the sea serpent finally conquered zog and drove the magician into his castle, where he now stays shut up. for if ever anko catches the monster outside of his enchanted castle, he will kill him, and zog knows that very well." "seems like you have your troubles down here just as we do on top the ground," remarked cap'n bill. "but i'm glad old zog is shut up in his castle," added trot. "is it a sea castle like your own palace?" "i cannot say, my dear, for the enchantment makes it invisible to all eyes but those of its inhabitants," replied aquareine. "no one sees zog now, and we scarcely ever hear of him, but all the sea people know he is here someplace and fear his power. even in the old days, before anko conquered him, zog was the enemy of the mermaids, as he was of all the good and respectable seafolk. but do not worry about the magician, i beg of you, for he has not dared to do an evil deed in many, many years." "oh, i'm not afraid," asserted trot. "i'm glad of that," said the queen. "keep together, friends, and be careful not to separate, for here comes an army of sawfishes." even as aquareine spoke, they saw a swirl and commotion in the water ahead of them, while a sound like a muffled roar fell upon their ears. then swiftly there dashed upon them a group of great fishes with long saws sticking out in front of their noses, armed with sharp, hooked teeth, all set in a row. they were larger than the swordfishes and seemed more fierce and bold. but the mermaids and trot and cap'n bill quietly awaited their attack, and instead of tearing them with their saws as they expected to do, the fishes were unable to touch them at all. they tried every possible way to get at their proposed victims, but the magic circle was all powerful and turned aside the ugly saws; so our friends were not disturbed at all. seeing this, the sawfishes soon abandoned the attempt and with growls and roars of disappointment swam away and were quickly out of sight. trot had been a wee bit frightened during the attack, but now she laughed gleefully and told the queen that it seemed very nice to be protected by fairy powers. the water grew a darker blue as they descended into its depths, farther and farther away from the rays of the sun. trot was surprised to find she could see so plainly through the high wall of water above her, but the sun was able to shoot its beams straight down through the transparent sea, and they seemed to penetrate to every nook and crevice of the rocky bottom. in this deeper part of the ocean some of the fishes had a phosphorescent light of their own, and these could be seen far ahead as if they were lanterns. the explorers met a school of argonauts going up to the surface for a sail, and the child watched these strange creatures with much curiosity. the argonauts live in shells in which they are able to hide in case of danger from prowling wolf fishes, but otherwise they crawl out and carry their shells like humps upon their backs. then they spread their skinny sails above them and sail away under water till they come to the surface, where they float and let the currents of air carry them along the same as the currents of water had done before. trot thought the argonauts comical little creatures, with their big eyes and sharp noses, and to her they looked like a fleet of tiny ships. it is said that men got their first idea of boats and of how to sail them from watching these little argonauts. chapter 10 the undiscovered island in following the fleet of argonauts, the four explorers had risen higher in the water and soon found they had wandered to an open space that seemed to trot like the flat top of a high hill. the sands were covered with a growth of weeds so gorgeously colored that one who had never peered beneath the surface of the sea would scarcely believe they were not the product of a dye shop. every known hue seemed represented in the delicate, fern-like leaves that swayed softly to and fro as the current moved them. they were not set close together, these branches of magnificent hues, but were scattered sparsely over the sandy bottom of the sea so that while from a distance they seemed thick, a nearer view found them spread out with ample spaces of sand between them. in these sandy spaces lay the real attractiveness of the place, for here were many of those wonders of the deep that have surprised and interested people in all ages. first were the starfishes--hundreds of them, it seemed--lying sleepily on the bottom, with their five or six points extended outward. they were of various colors, some rich and brilliant, others of dark brown hues. a few had wound their arms around the weeds or were creeping slowly from one place to another, in the latter case turning their points downward and using them as legs. but most of them were lying motionless, and as trot looked down upon them she thought they resembled stars in the sky on a bright night, except that the blue of the heavens was here replaced by the white sand, and the twinkling diamond stars by the colored starfish. "we are near an island," said the queen, "and that is why so many starfishes are here, as they love to keep close to shore. also the little seahorses love these weeds, and to me they are more interesting than the starfish." trot now noticed the seahorses for the first time. they were quite small--merely two or three inches high--but had funny little heads that were shaped much like the head of a horse, and bright, intelligent eyes. they had no legs, though, for their bodies ended in tails which they twined around the stems of seaweeds to support themselves and keep the currents from carrying them away. trot bent down close to examine one of the queer little creatures and exclaimed, "why, the seahorses haven't any fins or anything to swim with." "oh yes we have," replied the sea horse in a tiny but distinct voice. "these things on the side of my head are fins." "i thought they were ears," said the girl. "so they are. fins and ears at the same time," answered the little sea animal. "also, there are small fins on our backs. of course, we can't swim as the mermaids do, or even as swiftly as fishes; but we manage to get around, thank you." "don't the fishes catch and eat you?" inquired trot curiously. "sometimes," admitted the sea horse, "and there are many other living things that have a way of destroying us. but here i am, as you see, over six weeks old, and during that time i have escaped every danger. that isn't so bad, is it?" "phoo!" said a starfish lying near. "i'm over three months old. you're a mere baby, sea horse." "i'm not!" cried the sea horse excitedly. "i'm full-grown and may live to be as old as you are!" "not if i keep on living," said the starfish calmly, and trot knew he was correct in his statement. the little girl now noticed several sea spiders creeping around and drew back because she did not think them very pretty. they were shaped not unlike the starfishes, but had slender legs and big heads with wicked-looking eyes sticking out of them. "oh, i don't like those things!" said trot, coming closer to her companions. "you don't, eh?" said a big sea spider in a cross voice. "why do you come around here, then, scaring away my dinner when you're not wanted?" "it isn't your ocean," replied trot. "no, and it isn't yours," snapped the spider. "but as it's big enough for us both, i'd like you to go away." "so we will," said aquareine gently, and at once she moved toward the surface of the water. trot and cap'n bill followed, with clia, and the child asked, "what island are we near?" "it has no name," answered the queen, "for it is not inhabited by man, nor has it ever yet been discovered by them. perhaps you will be the first humans to see this island. but it is a barren, rocky place, and only fit for seals and turtles." "are any of them there now?" cap'n bill inquired. "i think so. we will see." trot was astonished to find how near they were to the "top" of the ocean, for they had not ascended through the water very long when suddenly her head popped into the air, and she gave a gasp of surprise to find herself looking at the clear sky for the first time since she had started upon this adventure by rowing into giant's cave. she floated comfortably in the water, with her head and face just out of it, and began to look around her. cap'n bill was at her side, and so were the two mermaids. the day was fair, and the surface of the sea, which stretched far away as the eye could reach, rippled under a gentle breeze. they had risen almost at the edge of a small, rocky islet, high in the middle, but gradually slanting down to the water. no trees or bushes or grass grew anywhere about; only rocks, gray and bleak, were to be seen. trot scarcely noticed this at first, however, for the island seemed covered with groups of forms, some still and some moving, which the old sailor promptly recognized as seals. many were lying asleep or sunning themselves; others crept awkwardly around, using their strong fins as legs or "paddles" and caring little if they disturbed the slumbers of the others. once in a while one of those crowded out of place would give a loud and angry bark, which awakened others and set them to barking likewise. baby seals were there in great numbers, and were more active and playful than their elders. it was really wonderful how they could scramble around on the land, and trot laughed more than once at their antics. at the edge of the water lay many huge turtles, some as big around as a wagon wheel and others much smaller in size. "the big ones are very old," said the queen, seeing trot's eyes fixed on the turtles. "how old?" asked the child. "hundreds of years, i think. they live to a great age, for nothing can harm them when they withdraw their legs and heads into their thick shells. we use some of the turtles for food, but prefer the younger ones. men also fish for turtles and eat them, but of course no men ever come to this out-of-the-way place in the ocean, so the inhabitants of this little island know they are perfectly safe." in the center of the island rose high cliffs on top of which were to be seen great flocks of seagulls, some whirling in the air, while others were perched upon the points of rock. "what do the birds find to eat?" asked cap'n bill. "they often feed upon seals which die of accident or old age, and they are expert fishermen," explained queen aquareine. "curiously enough, the seals also feed upon these birds, which they are often able to catch in their strong jaws when the gulls venture too near. and then, the seals frequently rob the nests of eggs, of which they are very fond." "i'd like a few gulls' eggs now," remarked a big seal that lay near them upon the shore. trot had thought him sound asleep, but now he opened his eyes to blink lazily at the group in the water. "good morning," said the queen. "aren't you chief muffruff?" "i am," answered the old seal. "and you are aquareine, the mermaid queen. you see, i remember you, although you haven't been here for years. and isn't that princess clia? to be sure! but the other mermaids are strangers to me, especially the bald-headed one." "i'm not a mermaid," asserted cap'n bill. "i'm a sailor jes' a-visitin' the mermaids." "our friends are earth dwellers," explained the queen. "that's odd," said muffruff. "i can't remember that any earth dwellers ever came this way before. i never travel far, you see, for i'm chief of this disorderly family of seals that live on this island--on it and off it, that is." "you're a poor chief," said a big turtle lying beside the seal. "if your people are disorderly, it is your own fault." muffruff gave a chuckling laugh. then, with a movement quick as lightning, he pushed his head under the shell of the turtle and gave it a sudden jerk. the huge turtle was tossed up on edge and then turned flat upon its back, where its short legs struggled vainly to right its overturned body. "there!" snorted the seal contemptuously. "perhaps you'll dare insult me again in the presence of visitors, you old mud-wallower!" seeing the plight of the turtle, several young seals came laughingly wabbling to the spot, and as they approached the helpless creature drew in his legs and head and closed his two shells tightly together. the seals bumped against the turtle and gave it a push that sent it sliding down the beach like a toboggan, and a minute later it splashed into the water and sank out of sight. but that was just what the creature wanted. on shore the upset turtle was quite helpless; but the mischievous seals saved him. for as soon as he touched the water, he was able to turn and right himself, which he promptly did. then he raised his head above the water and asked: "is it peace or war, muffruff?" "whichever you like," answered the seal indifferently. perhaps the turtle was angry, for it ran on shore with remarkable swiftness, uttering a shrill cry as it advanced. at once all the other turtles awoke to life and with upraised heads joined their comrade in the rush for the seals. most of chief muffruff's band scrambled hastily down the rocks and plunged into the water of the sea without waiting for the turtles to reach them; but the chief himself was slow in escaping. it may be that he was ashamed to run while the mermaids were watching, but if this was so he made a great mistake. the turtles snapped at his fins and tail and began biting round chunks out of them so that chief muffruff screamed with pain and anger and floundered into the water as fast as he could go. the vengeful turtles were certainly the victors, and now held undisputed possession of the island. trot laughed joyously at the incident, not feeling a bit sorry for the old seal who had foolishly begun the battle. even the gentle queen smiled as she said: "these quarrels between the turtles and the seals are very frequent, but they are soon ended. an hour from now they will all be lying asleep together just as we found them; but we will not wait for that. let us go." she sank slowly beneath the water again, and the others followed after her. chapter 11 zog the terrible and his sea devils "the sun must be going under a cloud," said trot, looking ahead. they had descended far into the ocean depths again--further, the girl thought, than they had ever been before. "no," the queen answered after a glance ahead of them, "that is a cuttlefish, and he is dyeing the sea around him with ink so that he can hide from us. let us turn a little to the left, for we could see nothing at all in that inky water." following her advice, they made a broad curve to the left, and at once the water began to darken in that direction. "why, there's another of 'em," said cap'n bill as the little party came to a sudden halt. "so there is," returned the queen, and trot thought there was a little quiver of anxiety in her voice. "we must go far to the right to escape the ink." so they again started, this time almost at a right angle to their former course, the little girl inquired: "how can the cuttlefish color the water so very black?" "they carry big sacks in front of them where they conceal the ink," princess clia answered. "whenever they choose, the cuttlefish are able to press out this ink, and it colors the water for a great space around them." the direction in which they were now swimming was taking them far out of their way. aquareine did not wish to travel very far to the right, so when she thought they had gone far enough to escape the inky water, she turned to lead her party toward the left--the direction in which she did wish to go. at once another cloud of ink stained the water and drove them to the right again. "is anything wrong, ma'am?" asked cap'n bill, seeing a frown gather upon the queen's lovely face. "i hope not," she said. "but i must warn you that these cuttlefish are the servants of the terrible sea devils, and from the way they are acting they seem determined to drive us toward the devil caves, which i wished to avoid." this admission on the part of their powerful protector, the fairy mermaid, sent a chill to the hearts of the earth people. neither spoke for a time, but finally cap'n bill asked in a timid voice: "hadn't we better go back, ma'am?" "yes," decided aquareine after a moment's thought. "i think it will be wise to retreat. the sea devils are evidently aware of our movements and wish to annoy us. for my part, i have no fear of them, but i do not care to have you meet such creatures." but when they turned around to abandon their journey, another inky cloud was to be seen behind them. they really had no choice but to swim in the only streak of clear water they could find, and the mermaids well knew this would lead them nearer and nearer to the caves of their enemies. but aquareine led the way, moving very slowly, and the others followed her. in every other direction they were hemmed in by the black waters, and they did not dare to halt, because the inky fluid crept swiftly up behind them and drove them on. the queen and the princess had now become silent and grave. they swam on either side of their guests as if to better protect them. "don't look up," whispered clia, pressing close to the little girl's side. "why not?" asked trot, and then she did exactly what she had been told not to do. she lifted her head and saw stretched over them a network of scrawny, crimson arms interlaced like the branches of trees in winter when the leaves have fallen and left them bare. cap'n bill gave a start and muttered "land sakes!" for he, too, had gazed upward and seen the crimson network of limbs. "are these the sea devils?" asked the child, more curious than frightened. "yes, dear," replied the queen. "but i advise you to pay no attention to them. remember, they cannot touch us." in order to avoid the threatening arms overhead, which followed them as they swam, our friends kept near to the bottom of the sea, which was here thickly covered with rough and jagged rocks. the inky water had now been left far behind, but when trot looked over her shoulder, she shuddered to find a great crimson monster following closely after them, with a dozen long, snaky feelers stretched out as if to grab anyone that lagged behind. and there, at the side of princess clia, was another devil, leering silently with his cruel, bulging eyes at the pretty mermaid. beside the queen swam still another of their enemies. indeed, the sea devils had crept upon them and surrounded them everywhere except at the front, and trot began to feel nervous and worried for the first time. cap'n bill kept mumbling queer words under his breath, for he had a way of talking to himself when anything "upsot him," as he would quaintly remark. trot always knew he was disturbed or in trouble when he began to "growl." the only way now open was straight ahead. they swam slowly, yet fast enough to keep a safe distance from the dreadful creature behind them. "i'm afraid they are driving us into a trap," whispered the queen softly. "but whatever happens, do not lose courage, earth friends. clia and i are here to protect you, and our fairy powers are sufficient to keep you from all harm." "oh, i don't mind so very much," declared trot calmly. "it's like the fairy adventures in storybooks, and i've often thought i'd like that kind of adventures, 'cause the story always turns out the right way." cap'n bill growled something just then, but the only words trot could make out were, "never lived to tell the tale." "oh, pshaw, cap'n," she said. "we may be in danger, right enough, an' to be honest, i don't like the looks of these sea devils at all. but i'm sure it's no killing matter, for we've got the fairy circles all around us." "ha ha!" laughed the monster beside her. "we know all about the fairy circles, don't we, migg?" "ho ho!" laughed the monster on the other side. "we do, slibb, my boy, and we don't think much of fairy circles, either!" "they have foiled our enemies many a time," declared the princess with much dignity. "ha ha!" laughed one. "that's why we're here now." "ho ho!" laughed the other. "we've learned a trick or two, and we've got you fast this time." then all the sea devils--those above and the one behind, and the two on the sides--laughed all together, and their laughter was so horrible that it made even trot shudder. but now the queen stopped short, and the others stopped with her. "i will go no farther," she said firmly, not caring if the monsters overheard her. "it is evident that these monsters are trying to drive us into some secret place, and it is well known that they are in league with zog the terrible, whom they serve because they are as wicked as he is. we must be somewhere near the hidden castle of zog, so i prefer to stay here rather than be driven into some place far more dangerous. as for the sea devils, they are powerless to injure us in any way. not one of those thousand arms about us can possibly touch our bodies." the only reply to this defiant speech was another burst of horrible laughter; and now there suddenly appeared before them still another of the monsters, which thus completely hemmed them in. then the creatures began interlacing their long arms--or "feelers"--until they formed a perfect cage around the prisoners, not an opening being left that was large enough for one of them to escape through. the mermaids and the girl and sailor man kept huddled close together, for although they might be walled in by the sea devils, their captors could not touch them because of the protecting magic circles. all at once trot exclaimed, "why, we must be moving!" this was startling news, but by watching the flow of water past them they saw that the little girl was right. the sea devils were swimming, all together, and as the cage they were in moved forward, our friends were carried with it. queen aquareine had a stern look upon her beautiful face. cap'n bill guessed from this look that the mermaid was angry, for it seemed much like the look trot's mother wore when they came home late to dinner. but however angry the queen might be, she was unable to help herself or her guests just now or to escape from the guidance of the dreaded sea devils. the rest of the party had become sober and thoughtful, and in dignified silence they awaited the outcome of this strange adventure. chapter 12 the enchanted island all at once it grew dark around them. neither cap'n bill nor trot liked this gloom, for it made them nervous not to be able to see their enemies. "we must be near a sea cavern, if not within one," whispered princess clia, and even as she spoke the network of scarlet arms parted before them, leaving an avenue for them to swim out of the cage. there was brighter water ahead, too, so the queen said without hesitation: "come along, dear friends; but let us clasp hands and keep close together." they obeyed her commands and swam swiftly out of their prison and into the clear water before them, glad to put a distance between themselves and the loathesome sea devils. the monsters made no attempt to follow them, but they burst into a chorus of harsh laughter which warned our friends that they had not yet accomplished their escape. the four now found themselves in a broad, rocky passage, which was dimly lighted from some unknown source. the walls overhead, below them and at the sides all glistened as if made of silver, and in places were set small statues of birds, beasts and fishes, occupying niches in the walls and seemingly made from the same glistening material. the queen swam more slowly now that the sea devils had been left behind, and she looked exceedingly grave and thoughtful. "have you ever been here before?" asked trot. "no, dear," said the queen with a sigh. "and do you know where we are?" continued the girl. "i can guess," replied aquareine. "there is only one place in all the sea where such a passage as that we are in could exist without my knowledge, and that is in the hidden dominions of zog. if we are indeed in the power of that fearful magician, we must summon all our courage to resist him, or we are lost!" "is zog more powerful than the mermaids?" asked trot anxiously. "i do not know, for we have never before met to measure our strength," answered aquareine. "but if king anko could defeat the magician, as he surely did, then i think i shall be able to do so." "i wish i was sure of it," muttered cap'n bill. absolute silence reigned in the silver passage. no fish were there; not even a sea flower grew to relieve the stern grandeur of this vast corridor. trot began to be impressed with the fact that she was a good way from her home and mother, and she wondered if she would ever get back again to the white cottage on the cliff. here she was, at the bottom of the great ocean, swimming through a big tunnel that had an enchanted castle at the end, and a group of horrible sea devils at the other! in spite of this thought, she was not very much afraid. although two fairy mermaids were her companions, she relied, strange to say, more upon her tried and true friend, cap'n bill, than upon her newer acquaintances to see her safely out of her present trouble. cap'n bill himself did not feel very confident. "i don't care two cents what becomes o' me," he told princess clia in a low voice, "but i'm drea'ful worried over our trot. she's too sweet an' young to be made an end of in this 'ere fashion." clia smiled at this speech. "i'm sure you will find the little girl's end a good way off," she replied. "trust to our powerful queen, and be sure she will find some means for us all to escape uninjured." the light grew brighter as they advanced, until finally they perceived a magnificent archway just ahead of them. aquareine hesitated a moment whether to go on or turn back, but there was no escaping the sea devils behind them, and she decided the best way out of their difficulties was to bravely face the unknown zog and rely upon her fairy powers to prevent his doing any mischief to herself or her friends. so she led the way, and together they approached the archway and passed through it. they now found themselves in a vast cavern, so great in extent that the dome overhead looked like the sky when seen from earth. in the center of this immense sea cavern rose the towers of a splendid castle, all built of coral inlaid with silver and having windows of clear glass. surrounding the castle were beds of beautiful sea flowers, many being in full bloom, and these were laid out with great care in artistic designs. goldfish and silverfish darted here and there among the foliage, and the whole scene was so pretty and peaceful that trot began to doubt there was any danger lurking in such a lovely place. as they approached to look around them, a brilliantly colored gregfish approached and gazed at them curiously with his big, saucer-like eyes. "so zog has got you at last!" he said in a pitying tone. "how foolish you were to swim into that part of the sea where he is powerful." "the sea devils made us," explained clia. "well, i'm sorry for you, i'm sure," remarked the greg, and with a flash of his tail, he disappeared among the sea foliage. "let us go to the castle," said the queen in a determined voice. "we may as well boldly defy our fate as to wait until zog seeks us out." so they swam to the entrance of the castle. the doors stood wide open, and the interior seemed as well lighted as the cavern itself, although none of them could discover from whence the light came. at each side of the entrance lay a fish such as they had never seen before. it was flat as a doormat and seemed to cling fast to the coral floor. upon its back were quills like those of a porcupine, all pointed and sharp. from the center of the fish arose a head shaped like a round ball, with a circle of piercing, bead-like eyes set in it. these strange guardians of the entrance might be able to tell what their numerous eyes saw, yet they remained silent and watchful. even aquareine gazed upon them curiously, and she gave a little shudder as she did so. inside the entrance was a domed hall with a flight of stairs leading to an upper balcony. around the hall were several doorways hung with curtains made of woven seaweeds. chairs and benches stood against the wall, and these astonished the visitors because neither stairs nor chairs seemed useful in a kingdom where every living thing was supposed to swim and have a fish's tail. in queen aquareine's palaces benches for reclining were used, and stairs were wholly unnecessary, but in the palace of zog the furniture and fittings were much like those of a house upon earth, and except that every space here was filled with water instead of air, trot and cap'n bill might have imagined themselves in a handsome earthly castle. the little group paused half fearfully in the hall, yet so far there was surely nothing to be afraid of. they were wondering what to do next when the curtains of an archway were pushed aside and a boy entered. to trot's astonishment, he had legs and walked upon them naturally and with perfect ease. he was a delicate, frail-looking little fellow, dressed in a black velvet suit with knee breeches. the bows at his throat and knees were of colored seaweeds, woven into broad ribbons. his hair was yellow and banged across his forehead. his eyes were large and dark, with a pleasant, merry sparkle in them. around his neck he wore a high ruff, but in spite of this trot could see that below his plump cheeks were several scarlet-edged slits that looked like the gills of fishes, for they gently opened and closed as the boy breathed in the water by which he was surrounded. these gills did not greatly mar the lad's delicate beauty, and he spread out his arms and bowed low and gracefully in greeting. "hello," said trot. "why, i'd like to," replied the boy with a laugh, "but being a mere slave, it isn't proper for me to hello. but it's good to see earth people again, and i'm glad you're here." "we're not glad," observed the girl. "we're afraid." "you'll get over that," declared the boy smilingly. "people lose a lot of time being afraid. once i was myself afraid, but i found it was no fun, so i gave it up." "why were we brought here?" inquired queen aquareine gently. "i can't say, madam, being a mere slave," replied the boy. "but you have reminded me of my errand. i am sent to inform you all that zog the forsaken, who hates all the world and is hated by all the world, commands your presence in his den." "do you hate zog, too?" asked trot. "oh no," answered the boy. "people lose a lot of time in hating others, and there's no fun in it at all. zog may be hateful, but i'm not going to waste time hating him. you may do so, if you like." "you are a queer child," remarked the mermaid queen, looking at him attentively. "will you tell us who you are?" "once i was prince sacho of sacharhineolaland, which is a sweet country, but hard to pronounce," he answered. "but in this domain i have but one title and one name, and that is 'slave.'" "how came you to be zog's slave?" asked clia. "the funniest adventure you ever heard of," asserted the boy with eager pride. "i sailed in a ship that went to pieces in a storm. all on board were drowned but me, and i came mighty near it, to tell the truth. i went down deep, deep into the sea, and at the bottom was zog, watching the people drown. i tumbled on his head, and he grabbed and saved me, saying i would make a useful slave. by his magic power he made me able to live under water as the fishes live, and he brought me to this castle and taught me to wait upon him as his other slaves do." "isn't it a dreadful, lonely life?" asked trot. "no indeed," said sacho. "we haven't any time to be lonely, and the dreadful things zog does are very exciting and amusing, i assure you. he keeps us guessing every minute, and that makes the life here interesting. things were getting a bit slow an hour ago, but now that you are here, i'm in hopes we will all be kept busy and amused for some time." "are there many others in the castle besides you and zog?" asked aquareine. "dozens of us. perhaps hundreds. i've never counted them," said the boy. "but zog is the only master; all the rest of us are in the same class, so there is no jealousy among the slaves." "what is zog like?" cap'n bill questioned. at this the boy laughed, and the laugh was full of mischief. "if i could tell you what zog is like, it would take me a year," was the reply. "but i can't tell you. every one has a different idea of what he's like, and soon you will see him yourselves." "are you fond of him?" asked trot. "if i said yes, i'd get a good whipping," declared sacho. "i am commanded to hate zog, and being a good servant, i try to obey. if anyone dared to like zog, i am sure he'd be instantly fed to the turtles; so i advise you not to like him." "oh, we won't," promised trot. "but we're keeping the master waiting, and that is also a dangerous thing to do," continued the boy. "if we don't hurry up, zog will begin to smile, and when he smiles there is trouble brewing." the queen sighed. "lead the way, sacho," she said. "we will follow." the boy bowed again, and going to an archway, held aside the curtains for them. they first swam into a small anteroom which led into a long corridor, at the end of which was another curtained arch. through this sacho also guided them, and now they found themselves in a cleverly constructed maze. every few feet were twists and turns and sharp corners, and sometimes the passage would be wide, and again so narrow that they could just squeeze through in single file. "seems like we're gettin' further into the trap," growled cap'n bill. "we couldn't find our way out o' here to save our lives." "oh yes we could," replied clia, who was just behind him. "such a maze may indeed puzzle you, but the queen or i could lead you safely through it again, i assure you. zog is not so clever as he thinks himself." the sailor, however, found the maze very bewildering, and so did trot. passages ran in every direction, crossing and recrossing, and it seemed wonderful that the boy sacho knew just which way to go. but he never hesitated an instant. trot looked carefully to see if there were any marks to guide him, but every wall was of plain, polished marble, and every turning looked just like all the others. suddenly sacho stopped short. they were now in a broader passage, but as they gathered around their conductor they found further advance blocked. solid walls faced them, and here the corridor seemed to end. "enter!" said a clear voice. "but we can't!" protested trot. "swim straight ahead," whispered the boy in soft tones. "there is no real barrier before you. your eyes are merely deceived by magic." "ah, i understand," said aquareine, nodding her pretty head. and then she took mayre's hand and swam boldly forward, while cap'n bill followed holding the hand of clia. and behold! the marble wall melted away before them, and they found themselves in a chamber more splendid than even the fairy mermaids had ever seen before. chapter 13 prisoners of the sea monster the room in the enchanted castle which zog called the "den" and in which the wicked sea monster passed most of his time was a perfectly shaped dome of solid gold. the upper part of this dome was thickly set with precious jewels--diamonds, rubies, sapphires and emeralds, which sparkled beautifully through the crystal water. the lower walls were as thickly studded with pearls, all being of perfect shape and color. many of the pearls were larger than any which may be found upon earth, for the sea people knew where to find the very best and hide them away where men cannot discover them. the golden floor was engraved with designs of rare beauty, depicting not only sea life, but many adventures upon land. in the room were several large, golden cabinets, the doors of which were closed and locked, and in addition to the cabinets there were tables, chairs and sofas, the latter upholstered with softest sealskins. handsome rugs of exquisitely woven seaweeds were scattered about, the colors of which were artistically blended together. in one corner a fountain of air bubbled up through the water. the entire room was lighted as brilliantly as if exposed to the direct rays of the sun, yet where this light came from our friends could not imagine. no lamp or other similar device was visible anywhere. the strangers at first scarcely glanced at all these beautiful things, for in an easy chair sat zog himself, more wonderful than any other living creature, and as they gazed upon him, their eyes seemed fascinated as if held by a spell. zog's face was the face of a man, except that the tops of his ears were pointed like horns and he had small horns instead of eyebrows and a horn on the end of his chin. in spite of these deformities, the expression of the face was not unpleasant or repulsive. his hair was carefully parted and brushed, and his mouth and nose were not only perfect in shape but quite handsome. only the eyes betrayed zog and made him terrible to all beholders. they seemed like coals of glowing fire and sparkled so fiercely that no one ever cared to meet their gaze for more than an instant. perhaps the monster realized this, for he usually drooped his long lashes over his fiery eyes to shut out their glare. zog had two well-shaped legs which ended in the hoofs of beasts instead of feet, and these hoofs were shod with gold. his body was a shapeless mass covered with richly embroidered raiment, over which a great robe of cloth of gold fell in many folds. this robe was intended to hide the magician's body from view, but trot noticed that the cloth moved constantly in little ripples, as if what lay underneath would not keep still. the best features of which zog could boast were his arms and hands, the latter being as well formed, as delicate and white as those of a well-bred woman. when he spoke, his voice sounded sweet and clear, and its tones were very gentle. he had given them a few moments to stare at him, for he was examining them in turn with considerable curiosity. "well," said he, "do you not find me the most hateful creature you have ever beheld?" the queen refrained from answering, but trot said promptly, "we do. nothing could be more horrider or more disgustin' than you are, it seems to me." "very good, very good indeed," declared the monster, lifting his lashes to flash his glowing eyes upon them. then he turned toward cap'n bill. "man-fish," he continued, "what do you think of me?" "mighty little," the sailor replied. "you orter be 'shamed to ask sech a question, knowin' you look worse ner the devil himself." "very true," answered zog, frowning. he felt that he had received a high compliment, and the frown showed he was pleased with cap'n bill. but now queen aquareine advanced to a position in front of their captor and said, "tell me, zog, why have you trapped us and brought us here?" "to destroy you," was the quick answer, and the magician turned for an instant to flash his eyes upon the beautiful mermaid. "for two hundred years i have been awaiting a chance to get within my power some friend of anko the sea serpent--of anko, whom i hate!" he added, smiling sweetly. "when you left your palace today, my swift spies warned me, and so i sent the sea devils to capture you. often have they tried to do this before, but always failed. today, acting by my command, they tricked you, and by surrounding you forced you to the entrance of my enchanted castle. the result is a fine capture of important personages. i have now in my power the queen and princess of the fairy mermaids, as well as two wandering earth people, and i assure you i shall take great pleasure in destroying you utterly." "you are a coward," declared the queen proudly. "you dared not meet us in the open sea." "no, i dare not leave this castle," zog admitted, still smiling. "but here in my own domain my power is supreme. nothing can interfere with my vengeance." "that remains to be seen," said aquareine, firmly meeting the gaze of the terrible eyes. "of course," he answered, nodding his head with a graceful movement. "you will try to thwart me and escape. you will pit your fairy power against my powers of magic. that will give me great pleasure, for the more you struggle, the greater will be my revenge." "but why should you seek revenge upon us?" asked clia. "we have never harmed you." "that is true," replied zog. "i bear you no personal ill will. but you are friends of my great enemy, king anko, and it will annoy him very much when he finds that you have been destroyed by me. i cannot hurt the rascally old sea serpent himself, but through you i can make him feel my vengeance." "the mermaids have existed thousands of years," said the queen in a tone of pride. "do you imagine the despised and conquered zog has power to destroy them?" "i do not know," was the quiet answer. "it will be interesting to discover which is the more powerful." "i challenge you to begin the test at once, vile magician!" exclaimed aquareine. "there is no hurry, fair queen," answered zog in his softest tones. "i have been so many years in accomplishing your capture that it is foolish to act hastily now. besides, i am lonely. here in my forced retirement i see only those uninteresting earth mortals whom i have made my slaves, for all sea dwellers are forbidden to serve me save the sea devils, and they dare not enter my castle. i have saved many mortals from drowning and brought them here to people my castle, but i do not love mortals. two lovely mermaids are much more interesting, and before i allow you to perish, i shall have much amusement in witnessing your despair and your struggles to escape. you are now my prisoners. by slow degrees i shall wear out your fairy powers and break your hearts, as well as the hearts of these earth dwellers who have no magic powers, and i think it will be a long time before i finally permit you to die." "that's all right," said trot cheerfully. "the longer you take, the better i'll be satisfied." "that's how i feel about it," added cap'n bill. "don't get in a hurry to kill us zog. it'll be such a wear an' tear on your nerves. jes' take it easy an' let us live as long as we can." "don't you care to die?" asked the magician. "it's a thing i never longed for," the sailor replied. "you see, we had no business to go on a trip with the mermaids to begin with. i've allus heard tell that mermaids is dangerous, an' no one as met 'em ever lived to tell the tale. eh, trot?" "that's what you said, cap'n bill." "so i guess we're done for, one way 'r 'nother, an' it don't matter much which. but trot's a good child, an' mighty young an' tender. it don't seem like her time has come to die. i'd like to have her sent safe home to her mother. so i've got this 'ere proposition to make, zog. if your magic could make me die twice, or even three times fer good measure, why you go ahead an' do it an' i won't complain. all i ask is fer you to send this little girl safe back to dry land again." "don't you do it, zog!" cried trot indignantly, and turning to cap'n bill, she added, "i'm not goin' to leave you down here in all this mess, cap'n, and don't you think it. if one of us gets out of the muddle we're in, we'll both get out, so don't you make any bargains with zog to die twice." zog listened to this conversation very carefully. "the dying does not amount to much," he said. "it is the thinking about it that hurts you mortals most. i've watched many a shipwreck at sea, and the people would howl and scream for hours before the ship broke up. their terror was very enjoyable. but when the end came, they all drowned as peacefully as if they were going to sleep, so it didn't amuse me at all." "i'm not worrying," said trot. "ner me," said cap'n bill. "you'll find we can take what comes jes' as easy as anybody." "i do not expect to get much from you poor mortals," said zog carelessly. "you are merely a side show to my circus, a sort of dessert to my feast of vengeance. when the time comes, i can find a hundred ways to kill you. my most interesting prisoners are these pretty mermaids, who claim that none of their race has ever yet died or been destroyed. the first mermaid ever created is living yet, and i am told she is none other than queen aquareine. so i have a pretty problem before me to invent some way to destroy the mermaids or put them out of existence. and it will require some thought." "also, it will require some power you do not possess," suggested the queen. "that may be," replied zog softly. "but i am going to experiment, and i believe i shall be able to cause you a lot of pain and sorrow before i finally make an end of you. i have not lived twenty-seven thousand years, aquareine, without getting a certain amount of wisdom, and i am more powerful than you suspect." "you are a monster and a wicked magician," said the mermaid queen. "i am," agreed zog, "but i cannot help it. i was created part man, part bird, part fish, part beast and part reptile, and such a monstrosity could not be otherwise than wicked. everybody hates me, and i hate everybody." "why don't you kill yourself?" asked trot. "i've tried that and failed," he answered. "only one being in the world has power to destroy me, and that is king anko, the sea serpent." "then you'd better let him do it," advised the little girl. "no. much as i long to die, i cannot allow king anko the pleasure of killing me. he has always been my worst enemy, and it would be such a joy to him to kill me that i really cannot allow him. indeed, i have always hoped to kill anko. i have now been three thousand six hundred and forty-two years, eleven months and nine days figuring out a plan to destroy old anko, and as yet i have not discovered a way." "i'd give it up, if i were you," advised trot. "don't you think you could get some fun out of trying to be good?" "no!" cried zog, and his voice was not so soft as before. "listen, aquareine, you and your attendants shall be prisoners in this castle until i can manage to stop you from living. rooms will be placed at your disposal, and i wish you to go to them at o nce, as i am tired of looking at you." "you're no more tired than we are," remarked trot. "it's lucky you can't see yourself, zog." he turned his glowing eyes full upon her. "the worst of my queer body i keep concealed," he said. "if ever you see it, you will scream with terror." he touched a bell beside him, and the girl was surprised to find how clearly its tones rang out through the water. in an instant the boy sacho appeared and bowed low before his dreadful master. "take the mermaids and the child to the rose chamber," commanded zog, "and take the old man-fish to the peony room." sacho turned to obey. "are the outer passages well guarded?" asked the monster. "yes, as you have commanded," said the boy. "then you may allow the prisoners to roam at will throughout the castle. now, go!" the prisoners followed sacho from the room, glad to get away. the presence of this evil being had grown oppressive to them, and zog had himself seemed ill at ease during the last few minutes. the robe so closely wound around his body moved jerkily, as if something beneath disturbed it, and at such times zog shifted nervously in his seat. sacho's thin little legs trotted through the water and led the way into a different passage from the one by which they had entered. they swam slowly after him and breathed easier when they had left the golden domed chamber where their wicked enemy sat enthroned. "well, how do you like him?" asked sacho with a laugh. "we hate him!" declared trot emphatically. "of course you do," replied sacho. "but you're wasting time hating anything. it doesn't do you any good, or him any harm. can you sing?" "a little," said trot, "but i don't feel like singing now." "you're wrong about that," the boy asserted. "anything that keeps you from singing is foolishness, unless it's laughter. laughter, joy and song are the only good things in the world." trot did not answer this queer speech, for just then they came to a flight of stairs, and sacho climbed up them while the others swam. and now they were in a lofty, broad corridor having many doors hung with seaweed draperies. at one of these doorways sacho stopped and said, "here is the rose chamber where the master commands you to live until you die. you may wander anywhere in the castle as you please; to leave it is impossible. whenever you return to the rose chamber, you will know it by this design of roses sewn in pearls upon the hangings. the peony room where the man-fish is to live is the next one farther on." "thank you," replied queen aquareine. "are we to be fed?" "meals will be served in your rooms. if you desire anything, ring the bell and some of the slaves will be sure to answer it. i am mostly in attendance upon my master, but whenever i am at liberty i will look after your comfort myself." again they thanked the strange boy, and he turned and left them. they could hear him whistle and sing as he returned along the passage. then princess clia parted the curtains that her queen and companions might enter the rose chamber. chapter 14 cap'n joe and cap'n bill the rooms zog had given his prisoners were as handsome as all other parts of this strange enchanted castle. gold was used plentifully in the decorations, and in the rose chamber occupied by the mermaids and trot golden roses formed a border around the entire room. the sea maidens had evidently been expected, for the magician had provided couches for them to recline upon similar to the ones used in the mermaid palaces. the frames were of mother of pearl and the cushions of soft, white sponges. in the room were toilet tables, mirrors, ornaments and many articles used by earth people, which they afterward learned had been plundered by zog from sunken ships and brought to his castle by his allies, the sea devils. while the mermaids were examining and admiring their room, cap'n bill went to the peony room to see what it was like and found his quarters were very cozy and interesting. there were pictures on the wall, portraits of grave-looking porpoises, bashful seals, and smug and smiling walruses. some of the wall panels were formed of mirrors and reflected clearly the interior of the room. around the ceiling was a frieze of imitation peonies in silver, and the furniture was peony-shaped, the broad leaves being bent to form seats and couches. beside a pretty dressing table hung a bell cord with a tassel at the end. cap'n bill did not know it was a bell cord, so he pulled it to see what would happen and was puzzled to find that nothing seemed to happen at all, the bell being too far away for him to hear it. then he began looking at the treasures contained in this royal apartment, and was much pleased with a golden statue of a mermaid that resembled princess clia in feature. a silver flower vase upon a stand contained a bouquet of gorgeous peonies, "as nat'ral as life," said cap'n bill, although he saw plainly that they must be made of metal. trot came in just then to see how her dear friend was located. she entered from the doorway that connected the two rooms and said, "isn't it pretty, cap'n? and who'd ever think that awful creature zog owned such a splendid castle and kept his prisoners in such lovely rooms?" "i once heard tell," said the sailor, "of a foreign people that sacrificed humans to please their pagan gods, an' before they killed 'em outright they stuffed the victims full of good things to eat an' dressed 'em in pretty clothes an' treated 'em like princes. that's why i don't take much comfort in our fine surroundin's, trot. this zog is a pagan, if ever there was one, an' he don't mean us any good, you may depend on 't." "no," replied trot soberly, "i'm sure he does not expect us to be happy here. but i'm going to fool him and have just as good a time as i can." as she spoke they both turned around--an easy thing to do with a single flop of their flexible tails--and cap'n bill uttered a cry of surprise. just across the room stood a perfect duplicate of himself. the round head, with its bald top and scraggly whiskers, the sailor cap and shirt, the wide pantaloons, even the wooden leg, each and every one were exact copies of those owned by cap'n bill. even the expression in the light-blue eyes was the same, and it is no wonder the old sailor stared at his "double" in amazement. but the next minute he laughed and said, "why, trot, it's me reflected in a mirror. but at first i thought it was someone else." trot was staring, too. "look, cap'n!" she whispered. "look at the wooden leg." "well, it's my wooden leg, ain't it?" he inquired. "if it is, it can't be a reflection in a mirror," she argued, "for you haven't got a wooden leg. you've got a fish's tail." the old sailor was so startled by this truth that he gave a great flop with his tail that upset his balance and made him keel a somersault in the water before he got right side up again. then he found the other sailor man laughing at him and was horrified to find the "reflection" advancing toward them by stumping along on its wooden leg. "keep away! get out, there!" yelled cap'n bill. "you're a ghost, the ghost o' me that once was, an' i can't bear the sight o' you. git out!" "did you ring jes' to tell me to git out?" asked the other in a mild voice. "i--i didn't ring," declared cap'n bill. "you did. you pulled that bell cord," said the one-legged (one or more lines missing here in this edition) "oh, did pullin' that thing ring a bell?" inquired the cap'n, a little ashamed of his ignorance and reassured by hearing the "ghost" talk. "it surely did," was the reply, "and sacho told me to answer your bell and look after you. so i'm a-lookin' after you." "i wish you wouldn't," protested cap'n bill. "i've no use fer--fer ghostses, anyhow." the strange sailor began to chuckle at hearing this, and his chuckle was just like cap'n bill's chuckle, so full of merry humor that it usually made everyone laugh with him. "who are you?" asked trot, who was very curious and much surprised. "i'm cap'n joe," was the reply. "cap'n joe weedles, formerly o' the brig 'gladsome' an' now a slave o' zog at the bottom o' the sea." "j--j--joe wee-weedles!" gasped cap'n bill, amazed. "joe weedles o' the 'gladsome'! why, dash my eyes, mate, you must be my brother!" "are you bill weedles?" asked the other. and then he added, "but no, you can't be. bill wasn't no mermaid. he were a human critter like myself." "that's what i am," said cap'n bill hastily. "i'm a human critter, too. i've jes' borrered this fish tail to swim with while i'm visitin' the mermaids." "well, well," said cap'n joe in astonishment. "who'd o' thought it! an' who'd ever o' thought as i'd find my long-lost brother in zog's enchanted castle full fifty fathoms deep down in the wet, wet water!" "why, as fer that," replied cap'n bill, "it's you as is the long-lost brother, not me. you an' your ship disappeared many a year ago, an' ain't never been heard of since, while, as you see, i'm livin' on earth yet." "you don't look it to all appearances," remarked cap'n joe in a reflective tone of voice. "but i'll agree it's many a year since i saw the top o' the water, an' i'm not expectin' to ever tramp on dry land again." "are you dead, or drownded, or what?" asked cap'n bill. "neither one nor t'other," was the answer. "but zog gave me gills so's i could live in the water like fishes do, an' if i got on land i couldn't breathe air any more'n a fish out o' water can. so i guess as long as i live, i'll hev to stay down here." "do you like it?" asked trot. "oh, i don't objec' much," said cap'n joe. "there ain't much excitement here, fer we don't catch a flock o' mermaids ev'ry day, but the work is easy an' the rations fair. i might o' been worse off, you know, for when my brig was wrecked, i'd 'a' gone to davy jones's locker if zog hadn't happened to find me an' made me a fish." "you don't look as much like a fish as cap'n bill does," observed trot. "p'raps not," said cap'n joe, "but i notice bill ain't got any gills an' breathes like you an' the mermaids does. when he gets back to land, he'll have his two legs again an' live in comfort breathin' air." "i won't have two legs," asserted cap'n bill, "for when i'm on earth i'm fitted with one wooden leg, jes' the same as you are, joe." "oh, i hadn't heard o' that, bill, but i'm not surprised," replied brother joe. "many a sailor gets to wear a wooden leg in time. mine's hick'ry." "so's mine," said cap'n bill with a air of pride. "i'm glad i've run across you, joe, for i often wondered what had become of you. seems too bad, though, to have to spend all your life under water." "what's the odds?" asked cap'n joe. "i never could keep away from the water since i was a boy, an' there's more dangers to be met floatin' on it than there is soakin' in it. an' one other thing pleases me when i think on it: i'm parted from my wife, a mighty good woman with a tongue like a two-edge sword, an' my pore widder'll get the insurance money an' live happy. as fer me, bill, i'm a good deal happier than i was when she kep' scoldin' me from mornin' to night every minute i was home." "is zog a kind master?" asked trot. "i can't say he's kind," replied cap'n joe, "for he's as near a devil as any livin' critter can be. he grumbles an' growls in his soft voice all day, an' hates himself an' everybody else. but i don't see much of him. there's so many of us slaves here that zog don't pay much attention to us, an' we have a pretty good time when the ol' magician is shut up in his den, as he mostly is." "could you help us to escape?" asked the child. "why, i don't know how," admitted cap'n joe. "there's magic all around us, and we slaves are never allowed to leave this great cave. i'll do what i can, o' course, but sacho is the boy to help you if anyone can. that little chap knows a heap, i can tell you. so now, if nothin' more's wanted, i must get back to work." "what work do you do?" cap'n bill asked. "i sew buttons on zog's clothes. every time he gets mad, he busts his buttons off, an' i have to sew 'em on again. as he's mad most o' the time, it keeps me busy." "i'll see you again, won't i, joe?" said cap'n bill. "no reason why you shouldn't, if you manage to keep alive," said cap'n joe. "but you mustn't forget, bill, this zog has his grip on you, an' i've never known anything to escape him yet." saying this, the old sailor began to stump toward the door, but tripped his foot against his wooden leg and gave a swift dive forward. he would have fallen flat had he not grabbed the drapery at the doorway and saved himself by holding fast to it with both hands. even then he rolled and twisted so awkwardly before he could get upon his legs that trot had to laugh outright at his antics. "this hick'ry leg," said cap'n joe, "is so blamed light that it always wants to float. agga-groo, the goldworker, has promised me a gold leg that will stay down, but he never has time to make it. you're mighty lucky, bill, to have a merman's tail instead o' legs." "i guess i am, joe," replied cap'n bill, "for in such a wet country the fishes have the best of it. but i ain't sure i'd like this sort o' thing always." "think o' the money you'd make in a side show," said cap'n joe with his funny chuckling laugh. then he pounded his wooden leg against the hard floor and managed to hobble from the room without more accidents. when he had gone, trot said, "aren't you glad to find your brother again, cap'n bill?" "why, so-so," replied the sailor. "i don't know much about joe, seein' as we haven't met before for many a long year, an' all i remember about our boyhood days is that we fit an' pulled hair most o' the time. but what worries me most is joe's lookin' so much like me myself, wooden leg an' all. don't you think it's rather cheeky an' unbrotherly, trot?" "perhaps he can't help it," suggested the child. "and anyhow, he'll never be able to live on land again." "no," said cap'n bill with a sigh. "joe's a fish, now, an' so he ain't likely to be took for me by one of our friends on the earth." chapter 15 the magic of the mermaids when trot and cap'n bill entered the rose chamber they found the two mermaids reclining before an air fountain that was sending thousands of tiny bubbles up through the water. "these fountains of air are excellent things," remarked queen aquareine, "for they keep the water fresh and sweet, and that is the more necessary when it is confined by walls, as it is in this castle. but now, let us counsel together and decide what to do in the emergency that confronts us." "how can we tell what to do without knowing what's going to happen?" asked trot. "somethin's sure to happen," said cap'n bill. as if to prove his words, a gong suddenly sounded at their door and in walked a fat little man clothed all in white, including a white apron and white cap. his face was round and jolly, and he had a big mustache that curled up at the ends. "well, well!" said the little man, spreading out his legs and putting his hands on his hips as he stood looking at them. "of all the queer things in the sea, you're the queerest! mermaids, eh?" "don't bunch us that way!" protested cap'n bill. "you are quite wrong," said trot. "i'm a--a girl." "with a fish's tail?" he asked, laughing at her. "that's only just for a while," she said, "while i'm in the water, you know. when i'm at home on the land i walk just as you do, an' so does cap'n bill." "but we haven't any gills," remarked the cap'n, looking closely at the little man's throat, "so i take it we're not as fishy as some others." "if you mean me, i must admit you are right," said the little man, twisting his mustache. "i'm as near a fish as a man can be. but you see, cap'n, without the gills that make me a fish, i could not live under water." "when it comes to that, you've no business to live under water," asserted the sailor. "but i s'pose you're a slave and can't help it." "i'm chief cook for that old horror zog. and that reminds me, good mermaids, or good people, or good girls and sailors, or whatever you are, that i'm sent here to ask what you'd like to eat." "good to see you, sir," said cap'n bill. "i'm nearly starved, myself." "i had it in mind," said the little man, "to prepare a regular mermaid dinner, but since you're not mermaids--" "oh, two of us are," said the queen, smiling. "i, my good cook, am aquareine, the ruler of the mermaids, and this is the princess clia." "i've often heard of you, your majesty," returned the chief cook, bowing respectfully, "and i must say i've heard only good of you. now that you have unfortunately become my master's prisoners, it will give me pleasure to serve you as well as i am able." "we thank you, good sir," said aquareine. "what have you got to eat?" inquired trot. "seems to me i'm hollow way down to my toes--my tail, i mean--and it'll take a lot to fill me up. we haven't eaten a morsel since breakfast, you know." "i think i shall be able to give you almost anything you would like," said the cook. "zog is a wonderful magician and can procure anything that exists with no more effort than a wiggle of his thumb. but some eatables, you know, are hard to serve under water, because they get so damp that they are soon ruined." "ah, it is different with the mermaids," said princess clia. "yes, all your things are kept dry because they are surrounded by air. i've heard how the mermaids live. but here it is different." "take this ring," said the queen, handing the chief cook a circlet which she drew from her finger. "while it is in your possession, the food you prepare will not get wet, or even moist." "i thank your majesty," returned the cook, taking the ring. "my name is tom atto, and i'll do my best to please you. how would you like for luncheon some oysters on the half-shell, clam broth, shrimp salad, broiled turtle steak and watermelon?" "that will do very nicely," answered the queen. "do watermelons grow in the sea?" asked trot. "of course, that is why they are called watermelons," replied tom atto. "i think i shall serve you a water ice, in addition to the rest. water ice is an appropriate sea food." "have some watercress with the salad," said cap'n bill. "i'd thought of that," declared the cook. "doesn't my bill of fare make your mouths water?" "hurry up and get it ready," suggested trot. tom atto at once bowed and retired, and when they were done, cap'n bill said to the queen, "do you think, ma'am, we can manage to escape from zog and his castle?" "i hope we shall find a way," replied aquareine. "the evil powers of magic which zog controls may not prove to be as strong as the fairy powers i possess, but of course i cannot be positive until i discover what this wicked magician is able to do." princess clia was looking out of one of the windows. "i think i can see an opening far up in the top of the dome," she said. they all hastened to the windows to look, and although trot and cap'n bill could see nothing but a solid dome above the castle--perhaps because it was so far away from them--the sharp eyes of aquareine were not to be deceived. "yes," she announced, "there is surely an opening in the center of the great dome. a little thought must convince us that such an opening is bound to exist, for otherwise the water confined within the dome would not be fresh or clear." "then if we could escape from this castle, we could swim up to the hole in the dome and get free!" exclaimed trot. "why, zog has probably ordered the opening well guarded, as he has all the other outlets," responded the queen. "yet it may be worth while for us to make the attempt to get back into the broad ocean this way. the night would be the best time, when all are asleep, and surely it will be quicker to reach the ocean through this hole in the roof than by means of the long, winding passages by which we entered." "but we will have to break out of the castle in some way," observed cap'n bill. "that will not be difficult," answered aquareine. "it will be no trouble for me to shatter one of these panes of glass, allowing us to pass out and swim straight up to the top of the dome." "let's do it now!" said trot eagerly. "no, my dear, we must wait for a good opportunity when we are not watched closely. we do not wish the terrible zog to thwart our plan," answered the queen gently. presently two sailor boys entered bearing trays of food, which they placed upon a large table. they were cheery-faced young fellows with gills at their throats, but had laughing eyes, and trot was astonished not to find any of the slaves of zog weeping or miserable. instead, they were as jolly and good-natured as could be and seemed to like their life under the water. cap'n bill asked one of the boys how many slaves were in the castle, and the youth replied that he would try to count them and let him know. tom atto had, they found, prepared for them an excellent meal, and they ate heartily because they were really hungry. after luncheon cap'n bill smoked his pipe contentedly, and they renewed their conversation, planning various ways to outwit zog and make their escape. while thus engaged, the gong at the door sounded and sacho entered. "my diabolical master commands you to attend him," said the boy. "when?" asked aquareine. "at once, your majesty." "very well, we will follow you," she said. so they swam down the corridors following sacho until they again reached the golden-domed room they had formerly visited. here sat zog just as they had left him, seemingly, but when his prisoners entered, the magician arose and stood upon his cloven feet and then silently walked to a curtained archway. sacho commanded the prisoners to follow, and beyond the archway they found a vast chamber that occupied the center of the castle and was as big as a ballroom. zog, who seemed to walk with much difficulty because his ungainly body swayed back and forth, did not go far beyond the arched entrance. a golden throne was set nearby, and in this the monster seated himself. at one side of the throne stood a group of slaves. they were men, women and children. all had broad gold bands clasped around their ankles as a badge of servitude, and at each throat were the fish's gills that enabled them to breathe and live under water. yet every face was smiling and serene, even in the presence of their dread master. in parts of the big hall were groups of other slaves. sacho ranged the prisoners in a circle before zog's throne, and slowly the magician turned his eyes, glowing like live coals, upon the four. "captives," said he, speaking in his clear, sweet voice, "in our first interview you defied me, and both the mermaid queen and the princess declared they could not die. but if that is a true statement, as i have yet to discover, there are various ways to make you miserable and unhappy, and this i propose to do in order to amuse myself at your expense. you have been brought here to undergo the first trial of strength between us." none of the prisoners replied to this speech, so zog turned to one of his slaves and said, "rivivi, bring in the yell-maker." rivivi was a big fellow, brown of skin and with flashing, black eyes. he bowed to his master and left the room by an archway covered with heavy draperies. the next moment these curtains were violently pushed aside, and a dreadful sea creature swam into the hall. it had a body much like that of a crab, only more round and of a jet-black color. its eyes were bright yellow balls set on the ends of two horns that stuck out of its head. they were cruel-looking eyes, too, and seemed able to see every person in the room at the same time. the legs of the yell-maker, however, were the most curious part of the creature. there were six of them, slender and black as coal, and each extended twelve to fifteen feet from its body when stretched out in a straight line. they were hinged in several places so they could be folded up or extended at will. at the ends of these thin legs were immense claws shaped like those of a lobster, and they were real "nippers" of a most dangerous sort. the prisoners knew, as soon as they saw the awful claws, why the thing was called the "yell-maker," and trot gave a little shiver and crept closer to cap'n bill. zog looked with approval upon the creature he had summoned and said to it, "i give you four victims, the four people with fish's tails. let me hear how loud they can yell." the yell-maker uttered a grunt of pleasure and in a flash stretched out one of its long legs toward the queen's nose, where its powerful claws came together with a loud noise. aquareine did not stir; she only smiled. both zog and the creature that had attacked her seemed much surprised to find she was unhurt. "again!" cried zog, and again the yell-maker's claw shot out and tried to pinch the queen's pretty ear. but the magic of the fairy mermaid was proof against this sea-rascal's strength and swiftness, nor could he touch any part of aquareine, although he tried again and again, roaring with anger like a mad bull. trot began to enjoy this performance, and as her merry, childish laughter rang out, the yell-maker turned furiously upon the little girl, two of the dreadful claws trying to nip her at the same time. she had no chance to cry out or jump backward, yet she remained unharmed. for the fairy circle of queen aquareine kept her safe. now cap'n bill was attacked, and princess clia as well. the half-dozen slender legs darted in every direction like sword thrusts to reach their victims, and the cruel claws snapped so rapidly that the sound was like the rattling of castanets. but the four prisoners regarded their enemy with smiling composure, and no yell greeted the yell-maker's efforts. "enough!" said zog, softly and sweetly. "you may retire, my poor yell-maker, for with these people you are powerless." the creature paused and rolled its yellow eyes. "may i nip just one of the slaves, oh zog?" it asked pleadingly. "i hate to leave without pleasing your ears with a single yell." "let my slaves alone," was zog's answer. "they are here to serve me and must not be injured. go, feeble one." "not so!" cried the queen. "it is a shame, zog, that such an evil thing should exist in our fair sea." with this, she drew her fairy wand from a fold of her gown and waved it toward the creature. at once the yell-maker sank down unconscious upon the floor; its legs fell apart in many pieces, the claws tumbling in a heap beside the body. then all grew withered and lost shape, becoming a pulpy mass, like gelatin. a few moments later the creature had melted away to nothing at all, forever disappearing from the ocean where it had caused so much horror and pain. zog watched this destruction with surprising patience. when it was all over, he nodded his head and smiled, and trot noticed that whenever zog smiled, his slaves lost their jolly looks and began to tremble. "that is very pretty magic, aquareine," said the monster. "i myself learned the trick several thousand years ago, so it does not astonish me. have you fairies nothing that is new to show me?" "we desire only to protect ourselves," replied the queen with dignity. "then i will give you a chance to do so," said zog. as he spoke, the great marble blocks in the ceiling of the room directly over the heads of the captives gave way and came crashing down upon them. many tons of weight were in these marble blocks, and the magician had planned to crush his victims where they stood. but the four were still unharmed. the marble, being unable to touch them, was diverted from its course, and when the roar of the great crash had died away, zog saw his intended victims standing quietly in their places and smiling scornfully at his weak attempts to destroy them. chapter 16 the top of the great dome cap'n bill's heart was beating pretty vast, but he did not let zog know that. trot was so sure of the protection of the fairy mermaids that she would not allow herself to become frightened. aquareine and clia were as calm as if nothing had happened. "please excuse this little interruption," said zog. "i knew very well the marble blocks would not hurt you. but the play is over for a time. you may now retire to your rooms, and when i again invite you to my presence, i shall have found some better ways to entertain you." without reply to this threat, they turned and followed sacho from the hall, and the boy led them straight back to their own rooms. "zog is making a great mistake," said sacho with a laugh. "he has no time for vengeance, but the great magician does not know that." "what is he trying to do, anyway?" asked trot. "he does not tell me all his secrets, but i've an idea he wants to kill you," replied sacho. "how absurd it is to be plotting such a thing when he might spend his time in laughing and being jolly! isn't it, now?" "zog is a wicked, wicked creature!" exclaimed trot. "but he had his good points," replied sacho cheerfully. "there is no one about in the world so bad that there is nothing good about him." "i'm not so sure of that," said cap'n bill. "what are zog's good points?" "all his slaves were saved from drowning, and he is kind to them," said sacho. "that is merely the kindness of selfishness," said aquareine. "tell me, my lad, is the opening in the great dome outside guarded?" "yes indeed," was the reply. "you cannot hope to escape in that way, for the prince of the sea devils, who is the largest and fiercest of his race, lies crouched over the opening night and day, and none can pass his network of curling legs." "is there no avenue that is not guarded?" continued aquareine. "none at all, your majesty. zog is always careful to be well guarded, for he fears the approach of an enemy. what this enemy can be to terrify the great magician i do not know, but zog is always afraid and never leaves an entrance unguarded. besides, it is an enchanted castle, you know, and none in the ocean can see it unless zog wishes him to. so it will be very hard for his enemy to find him." "we wish to escape," said clia. "will you help us, sacho?" "in any way i can," replied the boy. "if we succeed, we will take you with us," continued the princess. but sacho shook his head and laughed. "i would indeed like to see you escape zog's vengeance," said he, "for vengeance is wrong, and you are too pretty and too good to be destroyed. but i am happy here and have no wish to go away, having no other home or friends other than my fellow slaves." then he left them, and when they were again alone, aquareine said, "we were able to escape zog's attacks today, but i am quite sure he will plan more powerful ways to destroy us. he has shown that he knows some clever magic, and perhaps i shall not be able to foil it. so it will be well for us to escape tonight if possible." "can you fight and conquer the big sea devil up in the dome?" asked trot. the queen was thoughtful, and did not reply to this question at once. but cap'n bill said uneasily, "i can't abide them devil critters, an' i hopes, for my part, we won't be called on to tackle 'em. you see, trot, we're in consider'ble of a bad mess, an' if we ever live to tell the tale--" "why not, cap'n?" asked the child. "we're safe enough so far. can't you trust our good friend, the queen?" "she don't seem plumb sure o' things herself," remarked the sailor. "the mermaids is all right an' friendly, mate, but this 'ere magic maker, ol' zog, is a bad one, out 'n' out, an' means to kill us if he can." "but he can't!" cried trot bravely. "i hope you're right, dear. i wouldn't want to bet on zog's chances jes' yet, an' at the same time it would be riskin' money to bet on our chances. seems to me it's a case of luck which wins." "don't worry, friend," said the queen. "i have a plan to save us. let us wait patiently until nightfall." they waited in the rose chamber a long time, talking earnestly together, but the brilliant light that flooded both the room and the great dome outside did not fade in the least. after several hours had passed away, the gong sounded and tom atto again appeared, followed by four slaves bearing many golden dishes upon silver trays. the friendly cook had prepared a fine dinner, and they were all glad to find that, whatever zog intended to do to them, he had no intention of starving them. perhaps the magician realized that aquareine's fairy powers, if put to the test, would be able to provide food for her companions, but whatever his object may have been, their enemy had given them splendid rooms and plenty to eat. "isn't it nearly nighttime?" asked the queen as tom atto spread the table with a cloth of woven seaweed and directed his men to place the dishes upon it. "night!" he exclaimed as if surprised. "there is no night here." "doesn't it ever get dark?" inquired trot. "never. we know nothing of the passage of time or of day or night. the light always shines just as you see it now, and we sleep whenever we are tired and rise again as soon as we are rested." "what causes the light?" princess clia asked. "it's magic, your highness," said the cook solemnly. "it's one of the curious things zog is able to do. but you must remember all this place is a big cave in which the castle stands, so the light is never seen by anyone except those who live here." "but why does zog keep his light going all the time?" asked the queen. "i suppose it is because he himself never sleeps," replied tom atto. "they say the master hasn't slept for hundreds of years, not since anko, the sea serpent, defeated him and drove him into this place." they asked no more questions and began to eat their dinner in silence. before long, cap'n joe came in to visit his brother and took a seat at the table with the prisoners. he proved a jolly fellow, and when he and cap'n bill talked about their boyhood days, the stories were so funny that everybody laughed and for a time forgot their worries. when dinner was over, however, and cap'n joe had gone back to his work of sewing on buttons and the servants had carried away the dishes, the prisoners remembered their troubles and the fate that awaited them. "i am much disappointed," said the queen, "to find there is no night here and that zog never sleeps. it will make our escape more difficult. yet we must make the attempt, and as we are tired and a great struggle is before us, it will be best for us to sleep and refresh ourselves." they agreed to this, for the day had been long and adventurous, so cap'n bill kissed trot and went in to the peony room, where he lay down upon his spongy couch and fell fast asleep. the mermaids and trot followed this example, and i think none of them was much worried, after all, because they quickly sank into peaceful slumber and forgot all the dangers that threatened them. chapter 17 the queen's golden sword "goodness me!" exclaimed trot, raising herself by a flirt of her pink-scaled tail and a wave of her fins, "isn't it dreadful hot here?" the mermaids had risen at the same time, and cap'n bill came swimming in from the peony room in time to hear the little girl's speech. "hot!" echoed the sailor. "why, i feel like the inside of a steam engine!" the perspiration was rolling down his round, red face, and he took out his handkerchief and carefully wiped it away, waving his fish tail gently at the same time. "what we need most in this room," said he, "is a fan." "what's the trouble, do you s'pose?" inquired trot. "it is another trick of the monster zog," answered the queen calmly. "he has made the water in our rooms boiling hot, and if it could touch us, we would be well cooked by this time. even as it is, we are all made uncomfortable by breathing the heated air." "what shall we do, ma'am?" the sailor man asked with a groan. "i expected to get into hot water afore we've done with this foolishness, but i don't like the feel o' bein' parboiled, jes' the same." the queen was waving her fairy wand and paid no attention to cap'n bill's moans. already the water felt cooler, and they began to breathe more easily. in a few moments more, the heat had passed from the surrounding water altogether, and all danger from this source was over. "this is better," said trot gratefully. "do you care to sleep again?" asked the queen. "no, i'm wide awake now," answered the child. "i'm afraid if i goes to sleep ag'in, i'll wake up a pot roast," said cap'n bill. "let us consider ways to escape," suggested clia. "it seems useless for us to remain here quietly until zog discovers a way to destroy us." "but we must not blunder," added aquareine cautiously. "to fail in our attempt would be to acknowledge zog's superior power, so we must think well upon our plan before we begin to carry it out. what do you advise, sir?" she asked, turning to cap'n bill. "my opinion, ma'am, is that the only way for us to escape is to get out o' here," was the sailor's vague answer. "how to do it is your business, seein' as i ain't no fairy myself, either in looks or in eddication." the queen smiled and said to trot, "what is your opinion, my dear?" "i think we might swim out the same way we came in," answered the child. "if we could get sacho to lead us back through the maze, we would follow that long tunnel to the open ocean, and--" "and there would be the sea devils waitin' for us," added cap'n bill with a shake of his bald head. "they'd drive us back inter the tunnel like they did the first time, trot. it won't do, mate, it won't do." "have you a suggestion, clia?" inquired the queen. "i have thought of an undertaking," replied the pretty princess, "but it is a bold plan, your majesty, and you may not care to risk it." "let us hear it, anyway," said aquareine encouragingly. "it is to destroy zog himself and put him out of the world forever. then we would be free to go home whenever we pleased." "can you suggest a way to destroy zog?" asked aquareine. "no, your majesty," clia answered. "i must leave the way for you to determine." "in the old days," said the queen thoughtfully, "the mighty king anko could not destroy this monster. he succeeded in defeating zog and drove him into this great cavern, but even anko could not destroy him." "i have heard the sea serpent explain that it was because he could not reach the magician," returned clia. "if king anko could have seized zog in his coils, he would have made an end of the wicked monster quickly. zog knows this, and that is why he does not venture forth from his retreat. anko is the enemy he constantly dreads. but with you, my queen, the case is different. you may easily reach zog, and the only question is whether your power is sufficient to destroy him." for a while aquareine remained silent. "i am not sure of my power over him," she said at last, "and for that reason i hesitate to attack him personally. his slaves and his allies, the sea devils, i can easily conquer, so i prefer to find a way to overcome the guards at the entrances rather than to encounter their terrible master. but even the guards have been given strength and power by the magician, as we have already discovered, so i must procure a weapon with which to fight them." "a weapon, ma'am?" said cap'n bill, and then he took a jackknife from his coat pocket and opened the big blade, afterward handing it to the queen. "that ain't a bad weapon," he announced. "but it is useless in this case," she replied, smiling at the old sailor's earnestness. "for my purpose i must have a golden sword." "well, there's plenty of gold around this castle," said trot, looking around her. "even in this room there's enough to make a hundred golden swords." "but we can't melt or forge gold under water, mate," the cap'n said. "why not? don't you s'pose all these gold roses and things were made under water?" asked the little girl. "like enough," remarked the sailor, "but i don't see how." just then the gong at the door sounded, and the boy sacho came in smiling and cheerful as ever. he said zog had sent him to inquire after their health and happiness. "you may tell him that his water became a trifle too warm, so we cooled it," replied the queen. then they told sacho how the boiling water had made them uncomfortable while they slept. sacho whistled a little tune and seemed thoughtful. "zog is foolish," said he. "how often have i told him that vengeance is a waste of time. he is worried to know how to destroy you, and that is wasting more time. you are worried for fear he will injure you, and so you also are wasting time. my, my! what a waste of time is going on in this castle!" "seems to me that we have so much time it doesn't matter," said trot. "what's time for, anyhow?" "time is given us to be happy, and for no other reason," replied the boy soberly. "when we waste time, we waste happiness. but there is no time for preaching, so i'll go." "please wait a moment, sacho," said the queen. "can i do anything to make you happy?" he asked, smiling again. "yes," answered aquareine. "we are curious to know who does all this beautiful gold work and ornamentation." "some of the slaves here are goldsmiths, having been taught by zog to forge and work metal under water," explained sacho. "in parts of the ocean lie many rocks filled with veins of pure gold and golden nuggets, and we get large supplies from sunken ships as well. there is no lack of gold here, but it is not as precious as it is upon the earth because here we have no need of money." "we would like to see the goldsmiths at work," announced the queen. the boy hesitated a moment. then he said, "i will take you to their room, where you may watch them for a time. i will not ask zog's permission to do this, for he might refuse. but my orders were to allow you the liberty of the castle, and so i will let you see the goldsmiths' shop." "thank you," replied aquareine quietly, and then the four followed sacho along various corridors until they came to a large room where a dozen men were busily at work. lying here and there were heaps of virgin gold, some in its natural state and some already fashioned into ornaments and furniture of various sorts. each man worked at a bench where there was a curious iron furnace in which glowed a vivid, white light. although this workshop was all under water and the workmen were all obliged to breathe as fishes do, the furnaces glowed so hot that the water touching them was turned into steam. gold or other metal held over a furnace quickly softened or melted, when it could be forged or molded into any shape desired. "the furnaces are electric," explained sacho, "and heat as well under water as they would in the open air. let me introduce you to the foreman, who will tell you of his work better than i can." the foreman was a slave named agga-groo, who was lean and lank and had an expression more surly and unhappy than any slave they had yet seen. yet he seemed willing to leave his work and explain to the visitors how he made so many beautiful things out of gold, for he took much pride in this labor and knew its artistic worth. moreover, since he had been in zog's castle these were the first strangers to enter his workshop, so he welcomed them in his own gruff way. the queen asked him if he was happy, and he shook his head and replied, "it isn't like calcutta, where i used to work in gold before i was wrecked at sea and nearly drowned. zog rescued me and brought me here a slave. it is a stupid life we lead, doing the same things over and over every day, but perhaps it is better than being dead. i'm not sure. the only pleasure i get in life is in creating pretty things out of gold." "could you forge me a golden sword?" asked the queen, smiling sweetly upon the goldsmith. "i could, madam, but i won't unless zog orders me to do it." "do you like zog better than you do me?" inquired aquareine. "no," was the answer. "i hate zog." "then won't you make the sword to please me and to show your skill?" pleaded the pretty mermaid. "i'm afraid of my master. he might not like it," the man replied. "but he will never know," said princess clia. "you cannot say what zog knows or what he doesn't know," growled the man. "i can't take chances of offending zog, for i must live with him always as a slave." with this he turned away and resumed his work, hammering the leaf of a golden ship. cap'n bill had listened carefully to this conversation, and being a wise old sailor in his way, he thought he understood the nature of old agga-groo better than the mermaids did. so he went close to the goldsmith, and feeling in the pockets of his coat drew out a silver compass shaped like a watch. "i'll give you this if you'll make the queen the golden sword," he said. agga-groo looked at the compass with interest and tested its power of pointing north. then he shook his head and handed it back to cap'n bill. the sailor dived into his pocket again and pulled out a pair of scissors, which he placed beside the compass on the palm of his big hand. "you may have them both," he said. agga-groo hesitated, for he wanted the scissors badly, but finally he shook his head again. cap'n bill added a piece of cord, an iron thimble, some fishhooks, four buttons and a safety pin, but still the goldsmith would not be tempted. so with a sigh the sailor brought out his fine, big jackknife, and at sight of this agga-groo's eyes began to sparkle. steel was not to be had at the bottom of the sea, although gold was so plentiful. "all right, friend," he said. "give me that lot of trinkets and i'll make you a pretty gold sword. but it won't be any good except to look at, for our gold is so pure that it is very soft." "never mind that," replied cap'n bill. "all we want is the sword." the goldsmith set to work at once, and so skillful was he that in a few minutes he had forged a fine sword of yellow gold with an ornamental handle. the shape was graceful and the blade keen and slender. it was evident to them all that the golden sword would not stand hard use, for the edge of the blade would nick and curl like lead, but the queen was delighted with the prize and took it eagerly in her hand. just then sacho returned to say that they must go back to their rooms, and after thanking the goldsmith, who was so busy examining his newly acquired treasure that he made no response, they joyfully followed the boy back to the rose chamber. sacho told them that he had just come from zog, who was still wasting time in plotting vengeance. "you must be careful," he advised them, "for my cruel master intends to stop you from living, and he may succeed. don't be unhappy, but be careful. zog is angry because you escaped his yell-maker and the falling stones and the hot water. while he is angry he is wasting time, but that will not help you. take care not to waste any time yourselves." "do you know what zog intends to do to us next?" asked princess clia. "no," said sacho, "but it is reasonable to guess that, being evil, he intends evil. he never intends to do good, i assure you." then the boy went away. "i am no longer afraid," declared the mermaid queen when they were alone. "when i have bestowed certain fairy powers upon this golden sword, it will fight its way against any who dare oppose us, and even zog himself will not care to face so powerful a weapon. i am now able to promise you that we shall make our escape." "good!" cried trot joyfully. "shall we start now?" "not yet, my dear. it will take me a little while to charm this golden blade so that it will obey my commands and do my work. there is no need of undue haste, so i propose we all sleep for a time and obtain what rest we can. we must be fresh and ready for our great adventure." as their former nap had been interrupted, they readily agreed to aquareine's proposal and at once went to their couches and composed themselves to slumber. when they were asleep, the fairy mermaid charmed her golden sword and then she also lay down to rest herself. chapter 18 a dash for liberty trot dreamed that she was at home in her own bed, but the night seemed chilly and she wanted to draw the coverlet up to her chin. she was not wide awake, but realized that she was cold and unable to move her arms to cover herself up. she tried, but could not stir. then she roused herself a little more and tried again. yes, it was cold, very cold! really, she must do something to get warm, she thought. she opened her eyes and stared at a great wall of ice in front of her. she was awake now, and frightened, too. but she could not move because the ice was all around her. she was frozen inside of it, and the air space around her was not big enough to allow her to turn over. at once the little girl realized what had happened. their wicked enemy zog had by his magic art frozen all the water in their room while they slept, and now they were all imprisoned and helpless. trot and cap'n bill were sure to freeze to death in a short time, for only a tiny air space remained between their bodies and the ice, and this air was like that of a winter day when the thermometer is below zero. across the room trot could see the mermaid queen lying on her couch, for the solid ice was clear as crystal. aquareine was imprisoned just as trot was, and although she held her fairy wand in one hand and the golden sword in the other, she seemed unable to move either of them, and the girl remembered that the queen always waved her magic wand to accomplish anything. princess clia's couch was behind that of trot, so the child could not see her, and cap'n bill was in his own room, probably frozen fast in the ice as the others were. the terrible zog has surely been very clever in this last attempt to destroy them. trot thought it all over, and she decided that inasmuch as the queen was unable to wave her fairy wand, she could do nothing to release herself or her friends. but in this the girl was mistaken. the fairy mermaid was even now at work trying to save them, and in a few minutes trot was astonished and delighted to see the queen rise from her couch. she could not go far from it at first, but the ice was melting rapidly all around her so that gradually aquareine approached the place where the child lay. trot could hear the mermaid's voice sounding through the ice as if from afar off, but it grew more distinct until she could make out that the queen was saying, "courage, friends! do not despair, for soon you will be free." before very long the ice between trot and the queen had melted away entirely, and with a cry of joy the little girl flopped her pink tail and swam to the side of her deliverer. "are you very cold?" asked aquareine. "n-not v-v-very!" replied trot, but her teeth chattered and she was still shivering. "the water will be warm in a few minutes," said the queen. "but now i must melt the rest of the ice and liberate clia." this she did in an astonishingly brief time, and the pretty princess, being herself a fairy, had not been at all affected by the cold surrounding her. they now swam to the door of cap'n bill's room and found the peony chamber a solid block of ice. the queen worked her magic power as hard as she could, and the ice flowed and melted quickly before her fairy wand. yet when they reached the old sailor, he was almost frozen stiff, and trot and clia had to rub his hands and nose and ears very briskly to warm him up and bring him back to life. cap'n bill was pretty tough, and he came around, in time, and opened his eyes and sneezed and asked if the blizzard was over. so the queen waved her wand over his head a few times to restore him to his natural condition of warmth, and soon the old sailor became quite comfortable and was able to understand all about the strange adventure from which he had so marvelously escaped. "i've made up my mind to one thing, trot," he said confidentially. "if ever i get out o' this mess i'm in, i won't be an arctic explorer, whatever else happens. shivers an' shakes ain't to my likin', an' this ice business ain't what it's sometimes cracked up to be. to be friz once is enough fer anybody, an' if i was a gal like you, i wouldn't even wear frizzes on my hair." "you haven't any hair, cap'n bill," answered trot, "so you needn't worry." the queen and clia had been talking together very earnestly. they now approached their earth friends, and aquareine said: "we have decided not to remain in this castle any longer. zog's cruel designs upon our lives and happiness are becoming too dangerous for us to endure. the golden sword now bears a fairy charm, and by its aid i will cut a way through our enemies. are you ready and willing to follow me?" "of course we are!" cried trot. "it don't seem 'zactly right to ask a lady to do the fightin'," remarked cap'n bill, "but magic ain't my strong p'int, and it seems to be yours, ma'am. so swim ahead, and we'll wiggle the same way you do, an' try to wiggle out of our troubles." "if i chance to fail," said the queen, "try not to blame me. i will do all in my power to provide for our escape, and i am willing to risk everything, because i well know that to remain here will mean to perish in the end." "that's all right," said trot with fine courage. "let's have it over with." "then we will leave here at once," said aquareine. she approached the window of the room and with one blow of her golden sword shattered the thick pane of glass. the opening thus made was large enough for them to swim through if they were careful not to scrape against the broken points of glass. the queen went first, followed by trot and cap'n bill, with clia last of all. and now they were in the vast dome in which the castle and gardens of zog had been built. around them was a clear stretch of water, and far above--full half a mile distant--was the opening in the roof guarded by the prince of the sea devils. the mermaid queen had determined to attack this monster. if she succeeded in destroying it with her golden sword, the little band of fugitives might then swim through the opening into the clear waters of the ocean. although this prince of the sea devils was said to be big and wise and mighty, there was but one of him to fight; whereas, if they attempted to escape through any of the passages, they must encounter scores of such enemies. "swim straight for the opening in the dome!" cried aquareine, and in answer to the command, the four whisked their glittering tails, waved their fins, and shot away through the water at full speed, their course slanting upward toward the top of the dome. chapter 19 king anko to the rescue the great magician zog never slept. he was always watchful and alert. some strange power warned him that his prisoners were about to escape. scarcely had the four left the castle by the broken window when the monster stepped from a doorway below and saw them. instantly he blew upon a golden whistle, and at the summons a band of wolf-fish appeared and dashed after the prisoners. these creatures swam so swiftly that soon they were between the fugitives and the dome, and then they turned and with wicked eyes and sharp fangs began a fierce attack upon the mermaids and the earth dwellers. trot was a little frightened at the evil looks of the sea wolves, whose heads were enormous, and whose jaws contained rows of curved and pointed teeth. but aquareine advanced upon them with her golden sword, and every touch of the charmed weapon instantly killed an enemy, so that one by one the wolf-fish rolled over upon their backs and sank helplessly downward through the water, leaving the prisoners free to continue their way toward the opening in the dome. zog witnessed the destruction of his wolves and uttered a loud laugh that was terrible to hear. then the dread monster determined to arrest the fugitives himself, and in order to do this he was forced to discover himself in all the horror of his awful form, a form he was so ashamed of and loathed so greatly that he always strove to keep it concealed, even from his own view. but it was important that his prisoners should not escape. hastily casting off the folds of the robe that enveloped him, zog allowed his body to uncoil and shoot upward through the water in swift pursuit of his victims. his cloven hoofs, upon which he usually walked, being now useless, were drawn up under him, while coil after coil of his eel-like body wriggled away like a serpent. at his shoulders two broad, feathery wings expanded, and these enabled the monster to cleave his way through the water with terrific force. zog was part man, part beast, part fish, part fowl, and part reptile. his undulating body was broad and thin and like the body of an eel. it was as repulsive as one could well imagine, and no wonder zog hated it and kept it covered with his robe. now, with his horned head and its glowing eyes thrust forward, wings flapping from his shoulders and his eely body--ending in a fish's tail--wriggling far behind him, this strange and evil creature was a thing of terror even to the sea dwellers, who were accustomed to remarkable sights. the mermaids, the sailor and the child, one after another looking back as they swam toward liberty and safety, saw the monster coming and shuddered with uncontrollable fear. they were drawing nearer to the dome by this time, yet it was still some distance away. the four redoubled their speed, darting through the water with the swiftness of skyrockets. but fast as they swam, zog swam faster, and the good queen's heart began to throb as she realized she would be forced to fight her loathesome foe. presently zog's long body was circling around them like a whirlwind, lashing the water into foam and gradually drawing nearer and nearer to his victims. his eyes were no longer glowing coals, they were balls of flame, and as he circled around them, he laughed aloud that horrible laugh which was far more terrifying than any cry of rage could be. the queen struck out with her golden sword, but zog wrapped a coil of his thin body around it and, wrestling it from her hand, crushed the weapon into a shapeless mass. then aquareine waved her fairy wand, but in a flash the monster sent it flying away through the water. cap'n bill now decided that they were lost. he drew trot closer to his side and placed one arm around her. "i can't save you, dear little mate," he said sadly, "but we've lived a long time together, an' now we'll die together. i knew, trot, when first we sawr them mermaids, as we'd--we'd--" "never live to tell the tale," said the child. "but never mind, cap'n bill, we've done the best we could, and we've had a fine time." "forgive me! oh, forgive me!" cried aquareine despairingly. "i tried to save you, my poor friends, but--" "what's that?" exclaimed the princess, pointing upward. they all looked past zog's whirling body, which was slowly enveloping them in its folds, toward the round opening in the dome. a dark object had appeared there, sliding downward like a huge rope and descending toward them with lightning rapidly. they gave a great gasp as they recognized the countenance of king anko, the sea serpent, its gray hair and whiskers bristling like those of an angry cat, and the usually mild blue eyes glowing with a ferocity even more terrifying than the orbs of zog. the magician gave a shrill scream at sight of his dreaded enemy, and abandoning his intended victims, zog made a quick dash to escape. but nothing in the sea could equal the strength and quickness of king anko when he was roused. in a flash the sea serpent had caught zog fast in his coils, and his mighty body swept round the monster and imprisoned him tightly. the four, so suddenly rescued, swam away to a safer distance from the struggle, and then they turned to watch the encounter between the two great opposing powers of the ocean's depths. yet there was no desperate fight to observe, for the combatants were unequal. the end came before they were aware of it. zog had been taken by surprise, and his great fear of anko destroyed all of his magic power. when the sea serpent slowly released those awful coils, a mass of jelly-like pulp floated downward through the water with no remnant of life remaining in it, no form to show it had once been zog, the magician. then anko shook his body that the water might cleanse it, and advanced his head toward the group of four whom he had so opportunely rescued. "it is all over, friends," said he in his gentle tones, while a mild expression once more reigned on his comical features. "you may go home at any time you please, for the way through the dome will be open as soon as i get my own body through it." indeed, so amazing was the length of the great sea serpent that only a part of him had descended through the hole into the dome. without waiting for the thanks of those he had rescued, he swiftly retreated to the ocean above, and with grateful hearts they followed him, glad to leave the cavern where they had endured so much anxiety and danger. chapter 20 the home of the ocean monarch trot sobbed quietly with her head on cap'n bill's shoulder. she had been a brave little girl during the trying times they had experienced and never once had she given way to tears, however desperate their fate had seemed to be. but now that the one enemy in all the sea to be dreaded was utterly destroyed and all dangers were past, the reaction was so great that she could not help having "just one good cry," as she naively expressed it. cap'n bill was a big sailor man hardened by age and many adventures, but even he felt a "lump in his throat" that he could not swallow, try as hard as he might. cap'n bill was glad. he was mostly glad on trot's account, for he loved his sweet, childish companion very dearly, and did not want any harm to befall her. they were now in the wide, open sea, with liberty to go wherever they wished, and if cap'n bill could have "had his way," he would have gone straight home and carried trot to her mother. but the mermaids must be considered. aquareine and clia had been true and faithful friends to their earth guests while dangers were threatening, and it would not be very gracious to leave them at once. moreover, king anko was now with them, his big head keeping pace with the mermaids as they swam, and this mighty preserver had a distinct claim upon trot and cap'n bill. the sailor felt that it would not be polite to ask to go home so soon. "if you people had come to visit me as i invited you to do," said the sea serpent, "all this bother and trouble would have been saved. i had my palace put in order to receive the earth dwellers and sat in my den waiting patiently to receive you. yet you never came at all." "that reminds me," said trot, drying her eyes, "you never told us about that third pain you once had." "finally," continued anko, "i sent to inquire as to what had become of you, and merla said you had been gone from the palace a long time and she was getting anxious about you. then i made inquiries. everyone in the sea loves to serve me--except those sea devils and their cousins, the octopi--and it wasn't long before i heard you had been captured by zog." "was the third pain as bad as the other two?" asked trot. "naturally this news disturbed me and made me unhappy," said anko, "for i well knew, my aquareine, that the magician's evil powers were greater than your own fairy accomplishments. but i had never been able to find zog's enchanted castle, and so i was at a loss to know how to save you from your dreadful fate. after i had wasted a good deal of time thinking it over, i decided that if the sea devils were slaves of zog, the prince of the sea devils must know where the enchanted castle was located. "i knew this prince and where to find him, for he always lay on a hollow rock on the bottom of the sea and never moved from that position. his people brought food to him and took his commands. so i had no trouble in finding this evil prince, and i went to him and asked the way to zog's castle. of course, he would not tell me. he was even cross and disrespectful, just as i had expected him to be, so i allowed myself to become angry and killed him, thinking he was much better dead than alive. but after the sea devil was destroyed, what was my surprise to find that all these years he had been lying over a round hole in the rock and covering it with his scarlet body! "a light shone through this hole, so i thrust my head in and found a great domed cave underneath with a splendid silver castle built at the bottom. you, my friends, were at that moment swimming toward me as fast as you could come, and the monster zog, my enemy for centuries past, was close behind you. well, the rest of the story you know. i would be angry with all of you for so carelessly getting captured, had the incident not led to the destruction of the one evil genius in all my ocean. i shall rest easier and be much happier now that zog is dead. he has defied me for hundreds of years." "but about that third pain," said trot. "if you don't tell us now, i'm afraid that i'll forget to ask you." "if you should happen to forget, just remind me of it," said anko, "and i'll be sure to tell you." while trot was thinking this over, the swimmers drew near to a great, circular palace made all of solid alabaster polished as smooth as ivory. its roof was a vast dome, for domes seemed to be fashionable in the ocean houses. there were no doors or windows, but instead of these, several round holes appeared in different parts of the dome, some being high up and some low down and some in between. out of one of these holes, which it just fitted, stretched the long, brown body of the sea serpent. trot, being astonished at this sight, asked, "didn't you take all of you when you went to the cavern, anko?" "nearly all, my dear," was the reply, accompanied by a cheerful smile, for anko was proud of his great length. "but not quite all. some of me remained, as usual, to keep house while my head was away. but i've been coiling up ever since we started back, and you will soon be able to see every inch of me all together." even as he spoke, his head slid into the round hole, and at a signal from aquareine they all paused outside and waited. presently there came to them four beautiful winged fishes with faces like doll babies. their long hair and eyelashes were of a purple color, and their cheeks had rosy spots that looked as if they had been painted upon them. "his majesty bids you welcome," said one of the doll fishes in a sweet voice. "be kind enough to enter the royal palace, and our ocean monarch will graciously receive you." "seems to me," said trot to the queen, "these things are putting on airs. perhaps they don't know we're friends of anko." "the king insists on certain formalities when anyone visits him," was aquareine's reply. "it is right that his dignity should be maintained." they followed their winged conductors to one of the upper openings, and as they entered it aquareine said in a clear voice, "may the glory and power of the ocean king continue forever!" then she touched the palm of her hand to her forehead in token of allegiance, and clia did the same, so cap'n bill and trot followed suit. the brief ceremony being ended, the child looked curiously around to see what the palace of the mighty anko was like. an extensive hall lined with alabaster was before them. in the floor were five of the round holes. upon the walls were engraved many interesting scenes of ocean life, all chiseled very artistically by the tusks of walruses who, trot was afterward informed, are greatly skilled in such work. a few handsome rugs of woven sea grasses were spread upon the floor, but otherwise the vast hall was bare of furniture. the doll-faced fishes escorted them to an upper room where a table was set, and here the revelers were invited to refresh themselves. as all four were exceedingly hungry, they welcomed the repast, which was served by an army of lobsters in royal purple aprons and caps. the meal being finished, they again descended to the hall, which seemed to occupy all the middle of the building. and now their conductors said, "his majesty is ready to receive you in his den." they swam downward through one of the round holes in the floor and found themselves in a brilliantly lighted chamber which appeared bigger than all the rest of the palace put together. in the center was the quaint head of king anko, and around it was spread a great coverlet of purple and gold woven together. this concealed all of his body and stretched from wall to wall of the circular room. "welcome, friends!" said anko pleasantly. "how do you like my home?" "it's very grand," replied trot. "just the place for a sea serpent, seems to me," said cap'n bill. "i'm glad you admire it," said the king. "perhaps i ought to tell you that from this day you four belong to me." "how's that?" asked the girl, surprised. "it is a law of the ocean," declared anko, "that whoever saves any living creature from violent death owns that creature forever afterward, while life lasts. you will realize how just this law is when you remember that had i not saved you from zog, you would now be dead. the law was suggested by captain kid glove, when he once visited me." "do you mean captain kidd?" asked trot. "because if you do--" "give him his full name," said anko. "captain kid glove was--" "there's no glove to it," protested trot. "i ought to know, 'cause i've read about him." "didn't it say anything about a glove?" asked anko. "nothing at all. it jus' called him cap'n kidd," replied trot. "she's right, ol' man," added cap'n bill. "books," said the sea serpent, "are good enough as far as they go, but it seems to me your earth books don't go far enough. captain kid glove was a gentleman pirate, a kid-glove pirate. to leave off the glove and call him just kidd is very disrespectful." "oh! you told me to remind you of that third pain," said the little girl. "which proves my friendship for you," returned the sea serpent, blinking his blue eyes thoughtfully. "no one likes to be reminded of a pain, and that third pain was--was--" "what was it?" asked trot. "it was a stomach ache," replied the king with a sigh. "what made it?" she inquired. "just my carelessness," said anko. "i'd been away to foreign parts, seeing how the earth people were getting along. i found the germans dancing the german and the dutch making dutch cheese and the belgians combing their belgian hares and the turks eating turkey and the sardinians sardonically pickling sardines. then i called on the prince of whales, and--" "you mean the prince of wales," corrected trot. "i mean what i say, my dear. i saw the battlefield where the bull run but the americans didn't, and when i got to france i paid a napoleon to see napoleon with his boney apart. he was--" "of course you mean--" trot was beginning, but the king would not give her a chance to correct him this time. "he was very hungry for hungary," he continued, "and was russian so fast toward the poles that i thought he'd discover them. so as i was not accorded a royal welcome, i took french leave and came home again." "but the pain--" "on the way home," continued anko calmly, "i was a little absent-minded and ate an anchor. there was a long chain attached to it, and as i continued to swallow the anchor i continued to eat the chain. i never realized what i had done until i found a ship on the other end of the chain. then i bit it off." "the ship?" asked trot. "no, the chain. i didn't care for the ship, as i saw it contained some skippers. on the way home the chain and anchor began to lie heavily on my stomach. i didn't seem to digest them properly, and by the time i got to my palace, where you will notice there is no throne, i was thrown into throes of severe pain. so i at once sent for dr. shark--" "are all your doctors sharks?" asked the child. "yes, aren't your doctors sharks?" he replied. "not all of them," said trot. "that is true," remarked cap'n bill. "but when you talk of lawyers--" "i'm not talking of lawyers," said anko reprovingly. "i'm talking about my pain. i don't imagine anyone could suffer more than i did with that stomach ache." "did you suffer long?" inquired trot. "why, about seven thousand four hundred and eighty-two feet and--" "i mean a long time." "it seemed like a long time," answered the king. "dr. shark said i ought to put a mustard poultice on my stomach, so i uncoiled myself and summoned my servants, and they began putting on the mustard plaster. it had to be bound all around me so it wouldn't slip off, and i began to look like an express package. in about four weeks fully one-half of the pain had been covered by the mustard poultice, which got so hot that it hurt me worse than the stomach ache did." "i know," said trot. "i had one, once." "one what?" asked anko. "a mustard plaster. they smart pretty bad, but i guess they're a good thing." "i got myself unwrapped as soon as i could," continued the king, "and then i hunted for the doctor, who hid himself until my anger had subsided. he has never sent in a bill, so i think he must be terribly ashamed of himself." "you're lucky, sir, to have escaped so easy," said cap'n bill. "but you seem pretty well now." "yes, i'm more careful of what i eat," replied the sea serpent. "but i was saying when trot interrupted me, that you all belong to me, because i have saved your lives. by the law of the ocean, you must obey me in everything." the sailor scowled a little at hearing this, but trot laughed and said, "the law of the ocean isn't our law, 'cause we live on land." "just now you are living in the ocean," declared anko, "and as long as you live here, you must obey my commands." "what are your commands?" inquired the child. "ah, that's the point i was coming to," returned the king with his comical smile. "the ocean is a beautiful place, and we who belong here love it dearly. in many ways it's a nicer place for a home than the earth, for we have no sunstroke, mosquitoes, earthquakes or candy ships to bother us. but i am convinced that the ocean is no proper dwelling place for earth people, and i believe the mermaids did an unwise thing when they invited you to visit them." "i don't," protested the girl. "we've had a fine time, haven't we, cap'n bill?" "well, it's been diff'rent from what i expected," admitted the sailor. "our only thought was to give the earth people pleasure, your majesty," pleaded aquareine. "i know, i know, my dear queen, and it was very good of you," replied anko. "but still it was an unwise act, for earth people are as constantly in danger under water as we would be upon the land. so having won the right to command you all, i order you to take little mayre and cap'n bill straight home, and there restore them to their natural forms. it's a dreadful condition, i know, and they must each have two stumbling legs instead of a strong, beautiful fish tail, but it is the fate of earth dwellers, and they cannot escape it." "in my case, your majesty, make it one leg," suggested cap'n bill. "ah yes, i remember. one leg and a wooden stick to keep it company. i issue this order, dear friends, not because i am not fond of your society, but to keep you from getting into more trouble in a country where all is strange and unnatural to you. am i right, or do you think i am wrong?" "you're quite correct, sir," said cap'n bill, nodding his head in approval. "well, i'm ready to go home," said trot. "but in spite of zog, i've enjoyed my visit, and i shall always love the mermaids for being so good to me." that speech pleased aquareine and clia, who smiled upon the child and kissed her affectionately. "we shall escort you home at once," announced the queen. "but before you go," said king anko, "i will give you a rare treat. it is one you will remember as long as you live. you shall see every inch of the mightiest sea serpent in the world, all at one time!" as he spoke, the purple and gold cloth was lifted by unseen hands and disappeared from view. and now cap'n bill and trot looked down upon thousands and thousands of coils of the sea serpent's body, which filled all of the space at the bottom of the immense circular room. it reminded them of a great coil of garden hose, only it was so much bigger around and very much longer. except for the astonishing size of the ocean king, the sight was not an especially interesting one, but they told old anko that they were pleased to see him, because it was evident he was very fond of his figure. then the cloth descended again and covered all but the head, after which they bade the king goodbye and thanked him for all his kindness to them. "i used to think sea serpents were horrid creatures," said trot, "but now i know they are good and--and--and--" "and big," added cap'n bill, realizing his little friend could not find another word that was complimentary. chapter 21 king joe as they swam out of anko's palace and the doll-faced fishes left them, aquareine asked: "would you rather go back to our mermaid home for a time and rest yourselves or would you prefer to start for giant's cave at once?" "i guess we'd better go back home," decided trot. "to our own home, i mean. we've been away quite a while, and king anko seemed to think it was best." "very well," replied the queen. "let us turn in this direction, then." "you can say goodbye to merla for us," continued trot. "she was very nice to us, an' 'specially to cap'n bill." "so she was, mate," agreed the sailor, "an' a prettier lady i never knew, even if she is a mermaid, beggin' your pardon, ma'am." "are we going anywhere near zog's castle?" asked the girl. "our way leads directly past the opening in the dome," said aquareine. "then let's stop and see what sacho and the others are doing," suggested trot. "they can't be slaves any longer, you know, 'cause they haven't any master. i wonder if they're any happier than they were before?" "they seemed to be pretty happy as it was," remarked cap'n bill. "it will do no harm to pay them a brief visit," said princess clia. "all danger disappeared from the cavern with the destruction of zog." "i really ought to say goodbye to brother joe," observed the sailor man. "i won't see him again, you know, and i don't want to seem unbrotherly." "very well," said the queen, "we will reenter the cavern, for i, too, am anxious to know what will be the fate of the poor slaves of the magician." when they came to the hole in the top of the dome, they dropped through it and swam leisurely down toward the castle. the water was clear and undisturbed and the silver castle looked very quiet and peaceful under the radiant light that still filled the cavern. they met no one at all, and passing around to the front of the building, they reached the broad entrance and passed into the golden hall. here a strange scene met their eyes. all the slaves of zog, hundreds in number, were assembled in the room, while standing before the throne formerly occupied by the wicked magician was the boy sacho, who was just beginning to make a speech to his fellow slaves. "at one time or another," he said, "all of us were born upon the earth and lived in the thin air, but now we are all living as the fishes live, and our home is in the water of the ocean. one by one we have come to this place, having been saved from drowning by zog, the magician, and by him given power to exist in comfort under water. the powerful master who made us his slaves has now passed away forever, but we continue to live, and are unable to return to our native land, where we would quickly perish. there is no one but us to inherit zog's possessions, and so it will be best for us to remain in this fine castle and occupy ourselves as we have done before, in providing for the comforts of the community. only in labor is happiness to be found, and we may as well labor for ourselves as for others. "but we must have a king. not an evil, cruel master like zog, but one who will maintain order and issue laws for the benefit of all. we will govern ourselves most happily by having a ruler, or head, selected from among ourselves by popular vote. therefore i ask you to decide who shall be our king, for only one who is accepted by all can sit in zog's throne." the slaves applauded this speech, but they seemed puzzled to make the choice of a ruler. finally the chief cook came forward and said, "we all have our duties to perform and so cannot spend the time to be king. but you, sacho, who were zog's own attendant, have now no duties at all. so it will be best for you to rule us. what say you, comrades? shall we make sacho king?" "yes, yes!" they all cried. "but i do not wish to be king," replied sacho. "a king is a useless sort of person who merely issues orders for others to carry out. i want to be busy and useful. whoever is king will need a good attendant as well as an officer who will see that his commands are obeyed. i am used to such duties, having served zog in this same way." "who, then, has the time to rule over us?" asked agga-groo, the goldsmith. "it seems to me that cap'n joe is the proper person for king," replied sacho. "his former duty was to sew buttons on zog's garments, so now he is out of a job and has plenty of time to be king, for he can sew on his own buttons. what do you say, cap'n joe?" "oh, i don't mind," agreed cap'n joe. "that is, if you all want me to rule you." "we do!" shouted the slaves, glad to find someone willing to take the job. "but i'll want a few pointers," continued cap'n bill's brother. "i ain't used to this sort o' work, you know, an' if i ain't properly posted i'm liable to make mistakes." "sacho will tell you," said tom atto encouragingly. "and now i must go back to the kitchen and look after my dumplings, or you people won't have any dinner today." "very well," announced sacho. "i hereby proclaim cap'n joe elected king of the castle, which is the enchanted castle no longer. you may all return to your work." the slaves went away well contented, and the boy and cap'n joe now came forward to greet their visitors. "we're on our way home," explained cap'n bill, "an' we don't expec' to travel this way again. but it pleases me to know, joe, that you're the king o' such a fine castle, an' i'll rest easier now that you're well pervided for." "oh, i'm all right, bill," returned cap'n joe. "it's an easy life here, an' a peaceful one. i wish you were as well fixed." "if ever you need friends, sacho, or any assistance or counsel, come to me," said the mermaid queen to the boy. "thank you, madam," he replied. "now that zog has gone, i am sure we shall be very safe and contented. but i shall not forget to come to you if we need you. we are not going to waste any time in anger or revenge or evil deeds, so i believe we shall prosper from now on." "i'm sure you will," declared trot. they now decided that they must continue their journey, and as neither sacho nor king joe could ascend to the top of the dome without swimming in the human way, which was slow and tedious work for them, the goodbyes were said at the castle entrance, and the four visitors started on their return. trot took one last view of the beautiful silver castle from the hole high up in the dome, which was now open and unguarded, and the next moment she was in the broad ocean again, swimming toward home beside her mermaid friends. chapter 22 trot lives to tell the tale aquareine was thoughtful for a time. then she drew from her finger a ring, a plain gold band set with a pearl of great value, and gave it to the little girl. "if at any period of your life the mermaids can be of service to you, my dear," she said, "you have but to come to the edge of the ocean and call 'aquareine.' if you are wearing the ring at the time, i shall instantly hear you and come to your assistance." "thank you!" cried the child, slipping the ring over her own chubby finger, which it fitted perfectly. "i shall never forget that i have good and loyal friends in the ocean, you may be sure." away and away they swam, swiftly and in a straight line, keeping in the middle water where they were not liable to meet many sea people. they passed a few schools of fishes, where the teachers were explaining to the young ones how to swim properly, and to conduct themselves in a dignified manner, but trot did not care to stop and watch the exercises. although the queen had lost her fairy wand in zog's domed chamber, she had still enough magic power to carry them all across the ocean in wonderfully quick time, and before trot and cap'n bill were aware of the distance they had come, the mermaids paused while princess clia said: "now we must go a little deeper, for here is the giant's cave and the entrance to it is near the bottom of the sea." "what, already?" cried the girl joyfully, and then through the dark water they swam, passing through the rocky entrance, and began to ascend slowly into the azure-blue water of the cave. "you've been awfully good to us, and i don't know jus' how to thank you," said trot earnestly. "we have enjoyed your visit to us," said beautiful queen aquareine, smiling upon her little friend, "and you may easily repay any pleasure we have given you by speaking well of the mermaids when you hear ignorant earth people condemning us." "i'll do that, of course," exclaimed the child. "how about changin' us back to our reg'lar shapes?" inquired cap'n bill anxiously. "that will be very easy," replied princess clia with her merry laugh. "see! here we are at the surface of the water." they pushed their heads above the blue water and looked around the cave. it was silent and deserted. floating gently near the spot where they had left it was their own little boat. cap'n bill swam to it, took hold of the side, and then turned an inquiring face toward the mermaids. "climb in," said the queen. so he pulled himself up and awkwardly tumbled forward into the boat. as he did so, he heard his wooden leg clatter against the seat, and turned around to look at it wonderingly. "it's me, all right!" he muttered. "one meat one, an' one hick'ry one. that's the same as belongs to me!" "will you lift mayre aboard?" asked princess clia. the old sailor aroused himself, and as trot lifted up her arms, he seized them and drew her safely into the boat. she was dressed just as usual, and her chubby legs wore shoes and stockings. strangely enough, neither of them were at all wet or even damp in any part of their clothing. "i wonder where our legs have been while we've been gone?" mused cap'n bill, gazing at his little friend in great delight. "and i wonder what's become of our pretty pink and green scaled tails!" returned the girl, laughing with glee, for it seemed good to be herself again. queen aquareine and princess clia were a little way off, lying with their pretty faces just out of the water while their hair floated in soft clouds around them. "goodbye, friends!" they called. "goodbye!" shouted both trot and cap'n bill, and the little girl blew two kisses from her fingers toward the mermaids. then the faces disappeared, leaving little ripples on the surface of the water. cap'n bill picked up the oars and slowly headed the boat toward the mouth of the cave. "i wonder, trot, if your ma has missed us," he remarked uneasily. "of course not," replied the girl. "she's been sound asleep, you know." as the boat crept out into the bright sunlight, they were both silent, but each sighed with pleasure at beholding their own everyday world again. finally trot said softly, "the land's the best, cap'n." "it is, mate, for livin' on," he answered. "but i'm glad to have seen the mermaids," she added.. "well, so'm i, trot," he agreed. "but i wouldn't 'a' believed any mortal could ever 'a' seen 'em an'--an'--" trot laughed merrily. "an' lived to tell the tale!" she cried, her eyes dancing with mischief. "oh, cap'n bill, how little we mortals know!" "true enough, mate," he replied, "but we're a-learnin' something ev'ry day." the end [illustration] books by l. frank baum [illustration] illustrated by john r. neill each book handsomely bound in artistic pictorial cover. $1.25 per volume the emerald city of oz mr. baum is the most inventive writer of fairy tales in all the world to-day. the "oz" stories teem with favorites new and old, for children miss any old character and immediately demand reinstatement, so, after long experience, mr. baum brought along the old and created new ones for each succeeding book, until now "the emerald city of oz" assembles more characters than possibly any other children's book contains. 16 full-page pictures in four colors and green bronze, 100 black-and-white illustrations. stunning jacket in four colors and aluminum and green bronze. the road to oz tells how to reach the magic city of oz over a road leading through lands of many colors, peopled with odd characters, and surcharged with adventure suitable for the minds and imaginations of young children. the manufacture represents an entirely new idea--the paper used is of various colors to indicate the several countries traversed by the road leading to oz and the emerald city. unique and gorgeous jacket in colors and gold. the land of oz an account of the adventures of the scarecrow, the tin woodman, jack pumpkinhead, the animated saw-horse, the highly magnified woggle-bug, the gump and many other delightful characters. nearly 150 black-and-white illustrations and sixteen full-page pictures in colors. ozma of oz the story tells "more about dorothy," as well as those famous characters, the scarecrow, the tin woodman and the cowardly lion, and something of several new creations equally delightful, including tiktok the machine man, the yellow hen, the nome king and the hungry tiger. forty-one full-page colored pictures; twenty-two half pages in color and fifty black-and-white text pictures. dorothy and the wizard in oz in this book dorothy, with zeb, a little boy friend, and jim, the cab horse, are swallowed up in an earthquake and reach a strange vegetable land, whence they escape to the land of oz, and meet all their old friends. among the new characters are eureka, dorothy's pink kitten, and the nine tiny piglets. gorgeously illustrated with sixteen full color pages and numerous black-and-white pictures. john dough and the cherub a whimsical tale portraying the exciting adventures of the gingerbread man and his comrade, chick the cherub, in the "palace of romance," the "land of the mifkets," "highland and lowland," and other places. [illustration] forty full-page colored pictures; twenty colored pictorial chapter headings; 100 black-and-white text pictures. [illustration] [illustration: sea fairies] [illustration: to judith _of_ randolph, massachusetts. ] [illustration] the sea fairies by l. frank baum author of the emerald city of oz, dorothy and the wizard in oz, ozma of oz, the road to oz, the land of oz, etc. [illustration] illustrated by john r. neill chicago the reilly & britton co. publishers copyright 1911 by l. frank baum. all rights reserved [illustration] [illustration] the oceans are big and broad. i believe two-thirds of the earth's surface is covered with water. what people inhabit this water has always been a subject of curiosity to the inhabitants of the land. strange creatures come from the seas at times, and perhaps in the ocean depths are many, more strange than mortal eye has ever gazed upon. this story is fanciful. in it the sea people talk and act much as we do, and the mermaids especially are not unlike the fairies with whom we have learned to be familiar. yet they are real sea people, for all that, and with the exception of zog the magician they are all supposed to exist in the ocean's depths. i am told that some very learned people deny that mermaids or sea-serpents have ever inhabited the oceans, but it would be very difficult for them to prove such an assertion unless they had lived under the water as trot and cap'n bill did in this story. i hope my readers who have so long followed dorothy's adventures in the land of oz will be interested in trot's equally strange experiences. the ocean has always appealed to me as a veritable wonderland, and this story has been suggested to me many times by my young correspondents in their letters. indeed, a good many children have implored me to "write something about the mermaids," and i have willingly granted the request. l. frank baum. _hollywood, 1911._ [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] list of chapters chapter 1--trot and cap'n bill 11 2--the mermaids 20 3--the depths of the deep blue sea 33 4--the palace of queen aquareine 44 5--the sea serpent 56 6--exploring the ocean 63 7--the aristocratic codfish 76 8--a banquet under water 92 9--the bashful octopus 100 10--an undiscovered island 110 11--zog the terrible, and his sea devils 120 12--the enchanted castle 128 13--prisoners of the sea monster 140 14--cap'n joe and cap'n bill 153 15--the magic of the mermaids 163 16--the top of the great dome 179 17--the queen's golden sword 187 18--a dash for liberty 201 19--king anko to the rescue 207 20--the home of the ocean monarch 214 21--king joe 228 22--trot lives to tell the tale 235 [illustration] [illustration: trot and cap'n bill _chap. 1._] "nobody," said cap'n bill, solemnly, "ever sawr a mermaid an' lived to tell the tale." "why not?" asked trot, looking earnestly up into the old sailor's face. they were seated on a bench built around a giant acacia tree that grew just at the edge of the bluff. below them rolled the blue waves of the great pacific. a little way behind them was the house, a neat frame cottage painted white and surrounded by huge eucalyptus and pepper trees. still farther behind that--a quarter of a mile distant but built upon a bend of the coast--was the village, overlooking a pretty bay. cap'n bill and trot came often to this tree, to sit and watch the ocean below them. the sailor man had one "meat leg" and one "hickory leg," and he often said the wooden one was the best of the two. once cap'n bill had commanded and owned the "anemone," a trading schooner that plied along the coast; and in those days charlie griffiths, who was trot's father, had been the captain's mate. but ever since cap'n bill's accident, when he lost his leg, charlie griffiths had been the captain of the little schooner while his old master lived peacefully ashore with the griffiths family. this was about the time trot was born, and the old sailor became very fond of the baby girl. her real name was mayre, but when she grew big enough to walk she took so many busy little steps every day that both her mother and cap'n bill nicknamed her "trot," and so she was thereafter mostly called. it was the old sailor who taught the child to love the sea--to love it almost as much as he and her father did--and these two, who represented the "beginning and the end of life" became firm friends and constant companions. "why hasn't anybody seen a mermaid and lived?" asked trot, again. "'cause mermaids is fairies, an' ain't meant to be seen by us mortal folk," replied cap'n bill. "but if anyone happens to see 'em, what then, cap'n?" "then," he answered, slowly wagging his head, "the mermaids give 'em a smile an' a wink, an' they dives into the water an' gets drownded." [illustration: trot] "s'pose they know how to swim, cap'n bill?" "that don't make any diff'rence, trot. the mermaids live deep down, an' the poor mortals never come up again." the little girl was thoughtful for a moment. "but why do folks dive in the water when the mermaids smile an' wink?" she asked. "mermaids," he said, gravely, "is the most beautifulest creatures in the world--or the water, either. you know what they're like, trot; they's got a lovely lady's form down to the waist, an' then the other half of 'em's a fish, with green an' purple an' pink scales all adown it." "have they got arms, cap'n bill?" "'course, trot; arms like any other lady. an' pretty faces that smile an' look mighty sweet an' fetchin'. their hair is long an' soft an' silky, an' floats all around 'em in the water. when they comes up atop the waves they wring the water out 'n their hair and sing songs that go right to your heart. if anybody is unlucky enough to be 'round jes' then, the beauty o' them mermaids an' their sweet songs charm 'em like magic; so's they plunge into the waves to get to the mermaids. but the mermaids haven't any hearts, trot, no more 'n a fish has; so they laughs when the poor people drown, an' don't care a fig. that's why i says, an' i says it true, that nobody never sawr a mermaid an' lived to tell the tale." "nobody?" asked trot. "nobody a tall." "then how do you know, cap'n bill?" asked the little girl, looking up into his face with big round eyes. cap'n bill coughed. then he tried to sneeze, to gain time. then he took out his red cotton handkerchief and wiped his bald head with it, rubbing hard so as to make him think clearer. "look, trot; ain't that a brig out there?" he inquired, pointing to a sail far out in the sea. "how does anybody know about mermaids, if those who have seen them never lived to tell about them?" she asked again. "know what about 'em, trot?" "about their green and pink scales, and pretty songs, and wet hair." "they don't know, i guess. but mermaids jes' natcherly has to be like that, or they wouldn't be mermaids." she thought this over. "somebody _must_ have lived, cap'n bill," she declared, positively. "other fairies have been seen by mortals; why not mermaids?" "p'raps they have, trot; p'raps they have," he answered, musingly. "i'm tellin' you as it was told to me; but i never stopped to inquire into the matter so clost, before. seems like folks wouldn't know so much about mermaids if they hadn't seen 'em; an' yet accordin' to all accounts the victim is bound to get drownded." "p'raps," suggested trot, softly, "someone found a fotygraph of one of 'em." "that might 'a' been, trot; that might 'a' been," answered cap'n bill. a nice man was cap'n bill, and trot knew he always liked to explain everything so she could fully understand it. the aged sailor was not a very tall man, and some people might have called him chubby, or even fat. he wore a blue sailor shirt, with white anchors worked on the corners of the broad square collar, and his blue trousers were very wide at the bottom. he always wore one trouser leg over his wooden limb and sometimes it would flutter in the wind like a flag, because it was so wide and the wooden leg so slender. his rough kersey coat was a pea-jacket and came down to his waist line. in the big pockets of his jacket he kept a wonderful jackknife, and his pipe and tobacco, and many bits of string, and matches and keys and lots of other things. whenever cap'n bill thrust a chubby hand into one of his pockets trot watched him with breathless interest, for she never knew what he was going to pull out. the old sailor's face was brown as a berry. he had a fringe of hair around the back of his head and a fringe of whisker around the edge of his face, running from ear to ear and underneath his chin. his eyes were light blue and kind in expression. his nose was big and broad and his few teeth were not strong enough to crack nuts with. [illustration] trot liked cap'n bill and had a great deal of confidence in his wisdom, and a great admiration for his ability to make tops and whistles and toys with that marvelous jackknife of his. in the village were many boys and girls of her own age, but she never had as much fun playing with them as she had wandering by the sea accompanied by the old sailor and listening to his fascinating stories. she knew all about the flying dutchman, and davy jones' locker, and captain kidd, and how to harpoon a whale or dodge an iceberg, or lasso a seal. cap'n bill had been everywhere in the world, almost, on his many voyages. he had been wrecked on desert islands like robinson crusoe and been attacked by cannibals, and had a host of other exciting adventures. so he was a delightful comrade for the little girl, and whatever cap'n bill knew trot was sure to know in time. "how do the mermaids live?" she asked. "are they in caves, or just in the water like fishes, or how?" "can't say, trot," he replied. "i've asked divers about that, but none of 'em ever run acrost a mermaid's nest yet, as i've heard of." "if they're fairies," she said, "their homes must be very pretty." "mebbe so, trot; but damp. they're sure to be damp, you know." "i'd like to see a mermaid, cap'n bill," said the child, earnestly. "what, an' git drownded?" he exclaimed. "no; and live to tell the tale. if they're beautiful, and laughing, and sweet, there can't be much harm in them, i'm sure." "mermaids is mermaids," remarked cap'n bill, in his most solemn voice. "it wouldn't do us any good to mix up with 'em, trot." "may--re! may--re!" called a voice from the house. "yes, mamma!" "you an' cap'n bill come in to supper." [illustration] [illustration: _chap 2._ the mermaids] the next morning, as soon as trot had helped wipe the breakfast dishes and put them away in the cupboard, the little girl and cap'n bill started out toward the bluff. the air was soft and warm, and the sun turned the edges of the waves into sparkling diamonds. across the bay the last of the fisherboats was speeding away out to sea, for well the fishermen knew this was an ideal day to catch rockbass, barracuda and yellowtail. the old man and the young girl stood on the bluff and watched all this with interest. here was their world. "it isn't a bit rough this morning. let's have a boat ride, cap'n bill," said the child. "suits me to a t," declared the sailor. so they found the winding path that led down the face of the cliff to the narrow beach below, and cautiously began the descent. trot never minded the steep path or the loose rocks at all; but cap'n bill's wooden leg was not so useful on a down grade as on a level, and he had to be careful not to slip and take a tumble. but by and by they reached the sands and walked to a spot just beneath the big acacia tree that grew on the bluff. halfway to the top of the cliff hung suspended a little shed like structure that sheltered trot's rowboat, for it was necessary to pull the boat out of reach of the waves which beat in fury against the rocks at high tide. about as high up as cap'n bill could reach was an iron ring, securely fastened to the cliff, and to this ring was tied a rope. the old sailor unfastened the knot and began paying out the rope, and the rowboat came out of its shed and glided slowly downward to the beach. it hung on a pair of davits, and was lowered just as a boat is lowered from a ship's side. when it reached the sands the sailor unhooked the ropes and pushed the boat to the water's edge. it was a pretty little craft, light and strong, and cap'n bill knew how to sail it or row it, as trot might desire. to-day they decided to row, so the girl climbed into the bow and her companion stuck his wooden leg into the water's edge, "so he wouldn't get his foot wet," and pushed off the little boat as he climbed aboard. then he seized the oars and began gently paddling. "whither away, commodore trot?" he asked gaily. "i don't care, cap'n. it's just fun enough to be on the water," she answered, trailing one hand overboard. so he rowed around by the north promontory, where the great caves were, and much as they were enjoying the ride they soon began to feel the heat of the sun. "that's dead man's cave, 'cause a skellington was found there," observed the child, as they passed a dark yawning mouth in the cliff. "and that's bumble cave, 'cause the bumblebees make nests in the top of it. and here's smuggler's cave, 'cause the smugglers used to hide things in it." she knew all the caves well, and so did cap'n bill. many of them opened just at the water's edge and it was possible to row their boat far into their dusky depths. "and here's echo cave," she continued, dreamily, as they slowly moved along the coast; "and giant's cave, and--oh, cap'n bill! do you s'pose there were ever any giants in that cave?" "'pears like there must 'a' been, trot, or they wouldn't 'a' named it that name," he replied, pausing to wipe his bald head with the red handkerchief, while the oars dragged in the water. "we've never been into that cave, cap'n," she remarked, looking at the small hole in the cliff--an archway through which the water flowed. "let's go in now." "what for, trot?" "to see if there's a giant there." "h-m. aren't you 'fraid?" "no; are you? i just don't b'lieve it's big enough for a giant to get into." "your father was in there once," remarked cap'n bill, "an' he says it's the biggest cave on the coast, but low down. it's full o' water, an' the water's deep down to the very bottom o' the ocean; but the rock roof's liable to bump your head at high tide." "it's low tide now," returned trot. "and how could any giant live in there if the roof is so low down?" "why, he couldn't, mate. i reckon they must have called it giant's cave 'cause it's so big, an' not 'cause any giant man lived there." "let's go in," said the girl, again; "i'd like to 'splore it." "all right," replied the sailor. "it'll be cooler in there than out here in the sun. we won't go very far, for when the tide turns we mightn't get out again." he picked up the oars and rowed slowly toward the cave. the black archway that marked its entrance seemed hardly big enough to admit the boat, at first; but as they drew nearer the opening became bigger. the sea was very calm here, for the headland shielded it from the breeze. "look out fer your head, trot!" cautioned cap'n bill, as the boat glided slowly into the rocky arch. but it was the sailor who had to duck, instead of the little girl. only for a moment, though. just beyond the opening the cave was higher, and as the boat floated into the dim interior they found themselves on quite an extensive branch of the sea. for a time neither of them spoke and only the soft lapping of the water against the sides of the boat was heard. a beautiful sight met the eyes of the two adventurers and held them dumb with wonder and delight. it was not dark in this vast cave, yet the light seemed to come from underneath the water, which all around them glowed with an exquisite sapphire color. where the little waves crept up to the sides of the rocks they shone like brilliant jewels, and every drop of spray seemed a gem fit to deck a queen. trot leaned her chin on her hands and her elbows on her lap and gazed at this charming sight with real enjoyment. cap'n bill drew in the oars and let the boat drift where it would, while he also sat silently admiring the scene. slowly the little craft crept farther and farther into the dim interior of the vast cavern, while its two passengers feasted their eyes on the beauties constantly revealed. both the old seaman and the little girl loved the ocean in all its various moods. to them it was a constant companion and a genial comrade. if it stormed and raved they laughed with glee; if it rolled great breakers against the shore they clapped their hands joyfully; if it lay slumbering at their feet they petted and caressed it; but always they loved it. [illustration] here was the ocean yet. it had crept under the dome of overhanging rock to reveal itself crowned with sapphires and dressed in azure gown, revealing in this guise new and unsuspected charms. "good morning, mayre," said a sweet voice. trot gave a start and looked around her in wonder. just beside her in the water were little eddies--circles within circles--such as are caused when anything sinks below the surface. "did--did you hear that, cap'n bill?" she whispered, solemnly. cap'n bill did not answer. he was staring, with eyes that fairly bulged out, at a place behind trot's back, and he shook a little, as if trembling from cold. trot turned half around--and then she stared, too. rising from the blue water was a fair face around which floated a mass of long, blonde hair. it was a sweet, girlish face, with eyes of the same deep blue as the water and red lips whose dainty smile disclosed two rows of pearly teeth. the cheeks were plump and rosy, the brows gracefully penciled, while the chin was rounded and had a pretty dimple in it. "the--the--most beauti-ful-est--in all the world!" murmured cap'n bill, in a voice of horror; "an' no one has ever lived to--to tell the tale!" there was a peal of merry laughter, at this; laughter that rippled and echoed throughout the cavern. just at trot's side appeared a new face--even fairer than the other--with a wealth of brown hair wreathing the lovely features. and the eyes smiled kindly into those of the child. "are you--a--a--mermaid?" asked trot, curiously. she was not a bit afraid. they seemed both gentle and friendly. "yes, dear," was the soft answer. "we are all mermaids!" chimed a laughing chorus, and here and there, all about the boat, appeared pretty faces lying just upon the surface of the water. "are you part fishes?" asked trot, greatly pleased by this wonderful sight. "no, we are all mermaid," replied the one with the brown hair. "the fishes are partly like us, because they live in the sea and must move about. and you are partly like us, mayre dear, but have awkward stiff legs so you may walk on the land. but the mermaids lived before fishes and before mankind, so both have borrowed something from us." "then you must be fairies, if you've lived always," remarked trot, nodding wisely. "we are, dear; we are the water fairies," answered the one with the blonde hair, coming nearer and rising till her slender white throat showed plainly. "we--we're--goners, trot!" sighed cap'n bill, with a white, woebegone face. "i guess not, cap'n," she answered calmly. "these pretty mermaids aren't going to hurt us, i'm sure." "no, indeed," said the first one who had spoken. "if we were wicked enough to wish to harm you our magic could reach you as easily upon the land as in this cave. but we love little girls dearly, and wish only to please them and make their lives more happy." "i believe that!" cried trot, earnestly. cap'n bill groaned. "guess why we have appeared to you," said another mermaid, coming to the side of the boat. "why?" asked the child. "we heard you say yesterday you would like to see a mermaid, and so we decided to grant your wish." "that was real nice of you," said trot, gratefully. "also we heard all the foolish things cap'n bill said about us," remarked the brown haired one, smilingly; "and we wanted to prove to him they were wrong." "i on'y said what i've heard," protested cap'n bill. "never havin' seen a mermaid afore, i couldn't be ackerate; an' i never expected to see one an' live to tell the tale." again the cave rang with merry laughter, and as it died away trot said: "may i see your scales, please? and are they green and purple and pink, like cap'n bill said?" they seemed undecided what to say to this, and swam a little way off, where the beautiful heads formed a group that was delightful to see. perhaps they talked together, for the brown haired mermaid soon came back to the side of the boat and asked: [illustration: "we--we're--goners"] "would you like to visit our kingdom, and see all the wonders that exist below the sea?" "i'd like to," replied trot, promptly; "but i couldn't. i'd get drowned." "that you would, mate!" cried cap'n bill. "oh, no," said the mermaid. "we would make you both like one of ourselves, and then you could live within the water as easily as we do." "i don't know as i'd like it," said the child; "at least, for always." "you need not stay with us a moment longer than you please," returned the mermaid, smiling as if amused at the remark. "whenever you are ready to return home we promise to bring you to this place again and restore to you the same forms you are now wearing." "would i have a fish's tail?" asked trot, earnestly. "you would have a mermaid's tail," was the reply. "what color would my scales be--pink, or purple?" "you may choose the color yourself." "look a' here, trot!" said cap'n bill, in excitement, "you ain't thinkin' o' doin' such a fool thing, are you?" "'course i am," declared the little girl. "we don't get such inv'tations every day, cap'n; and if i don't go now i may never find out how the mermaids live." "i don't care how they live, myself," said cap'n bill. "i jes' want 'em to let _me_ live." "there's no danger," insisted trot. "i do' know 'bout that. that's what all the other folks said when they dove after the mermaids an' got drownded." "who?" asked the girl. "i don't know who; but i've heard tell--" "you've heard that no one ever saw a mermaid and lived," said trot. "to tell the tale," he added, nodding. "an' if we dives down, like they says, we won't live ourselves." all the mermaids laughed at this, and the brown haired one said: "well, if you are afraid, don't come. you may row your boat out of this cave and never see us again, if you like. we merely thought it would please little mayre, and were willing to show her the sights of our beautiful home." "i'd like to see 'em, all right," said trot, her eyes glistening with pleasure. "so would i," admitted cap'n bill; "if we would live to tell the tale." "don't you believe us?" asked the mermaid, fixing her lovely eyes on those of the old sailor and smiling prettily. "are you afraid to trust us to bring you safely back?" "n--n--n-o," said cap'n bill; "'tain't that. i've got to look after trot." "then you'll have to come with me," said trot, decidedly, "for i'm going to 'cept this inv'tation. if you don't care to come, cap'n bill, you go home and tell mother i'm visitin' the mermaids." "she'd scold me inter shivers!" moaned cap'n bill, with a shudder. "i guess i'd ruther take my chances down below." "all right; i'm ready, miss mermaid," said trot. "what shall i do? jump in, clothes an' all?" "give me your hand, dear," answered the mermaid, lifting a lovely white arm from the water. trot took the slender hand and found it warm and soft, and not a bit "fishy." "my name is clia," continued the mermaid, "and i am a princess in our deep-sea kingdom." just then trot gave a flop and flopped right out of the boat into the water. cap'n bill caught a gleam of pink scales as his little friend went overboard, and the next moment there was trot's face in the water, among those of the mermaids. she was laughing with glee as she looked up into cap'n bill's face and called: "come on in, cap'n! it didn't hurt a bit!" [illustration: _chap. 3._ _the_ depths _of the_ deep blue sea] cap'n bill stood up in the boat as if undecided what to do. never a sailorman was more bewildered than this old fellow by the strangeness of the adventure he had encountered. at first he could hardly believe it was all true, and that he was not dreaming; but there was trot in the water, laughing with the mermaids and floating comfortably about, and he couldn't leave his dear little companion to make the trip to the depths of the ocean alone. "take my hand, please, cap'n bill," said princess clia, reaching her dainty arm toward him; and suddenly the old man took courage and clasped the soft fingers in his own. he had to lean over the boat to do this, and then there came a queer lightness to his legs and he had a great longing to be in the water. so he gave a flop and flopped in beside trot, where he found himself comfortable enough, but somewhat frightened. "law sakes!" he gasped. "here's me in the water with my rheumatics! i'll be that stiff termorrer i can't wiggle." "you're wigglin' all right now," observed trot. "that's a fine tail you've got, cap'n, an' its green scales is jus' beautiful." "are they green, eh?" he asked, twisting around to try to see them. "green as em'ralds, cap'n. how do they feel?" "feel, trot--feel? why, this tail beats that ol' wooden leg all holler! i kin do stunts now that i couldn't 'a' done in a thousand years with ol' peg." "and don't be afraid of the rheumatism," advised the princess. "no mermaid ever catches cold or suffers pain in the water." "is cap'n bill a mermaid now?" asked trot. "why, he's a mer_man_, i suppose," laughed the pretty princess. "but when he gets home he will be just cap'n bill again." "wooden leg an' all?" inquired the child. "to be sure, my dear." [illustration] the sailor was now trying his newly-discovered powers of swimming, and became astonished at the feats he could accomplish. he could dart this way and that with wonderful speed, and turn and dive, and caper about in the water far better than he had ever been able to do on land--even before he got the wooden leg. and a curious thing about this present experience was that the water did not cling to him and wet him, as it had always done before. he still wore his flannel shirt and pea-jacket, and his sailor cap; but although he was in the water, and had been underneath the surface, the cloth still seemed dry and warm. as he dived down and came up again the drops flashed from his head and the fringe of beard, but he never needed to wipe his face or eyes at all. trot, too, was having queer experiences and enjoying them. when she ducked under water she saw plainly everything around her, as easily and distinctly as she had ever seen anything above water. and by looking over her shoulder she could watch the motion of her new tail, all covered with pretty iridescent pink scales, which gleamed like jewels. she wore her dress, the same as before, and the water failed to affect it in the least. she now noticed that the mermaids were clothed, too, and their exquisite gowns were the loveliest things the little girl had ever beheld. they seemed made of a material that was like sheeny silk, cut low in the neck and with wide flowing sleeves that seldom covered the shapely white arms of her new friends. the gowns had trains that floated far behind the mermaids as they swam, but were so fleecy and transparent that the sparkle of their scales might be seen reaching back of their waists, where the human form ended and the fish part began. the sea fairies wore strings of splendid pearls twined around their throats, while more pearls were sewn upon their gowns for trimmings. they did not dress their beautiful hair at all, but let it float around them in clouds. the little girl had scarcely time to observe all this when the princess said: "now, my dear, if you are ready we will begin our journey, for it is a long way to our palaces." "all right," answered trot, and took the hand extended to her with a trustful smile. "will you allow me to guide you, cap'n bill?" asked the blonde mermaid, extending her hand to the old sailor. "o' course, ma'am," he said, taking her fingers rather bashfully. "my name is merla," she continued, "and i am cousin to princess clia. we must all keep together, you know, and i will hold your hand to prevent your missing the way." while she spoke they began to descend through the water, and it grew quite dark for a time because the cave shut out the light. but presently trot, who was eagerly looking around her, began to notice the water lighten and saw they were coming into brighter parts of the sea. "we have left the cave now," said clia, "and may swim straight home." "i s'pose there are no winding roads in the ocean," remarked the child, swimming swiftly beside her new friend. "oh, yes, indeed. at the bottom the way is far from being straight or level," replied clia. "but we are in mid-water now, where nothing will hinder our journey, unless--" she seemed to hesitate; so trot asked: "unless what?" "unless we meet with disagreeable creatures," said the princess. "the mid-water is not as safe as the very bottom, and that is the reason we are holding your hands." "what good would that do?" asked trot. "you must remember that we are fairies," said princess clia. "for that reason nothing in the ocean can injure us; but you two are mortals, and therefore not entirely safe at all times unless we protect you." trot was thoughtful for a few moments and looked around her a little anxiously. now and then a dark form would shoot across their pathway, or pass them at some distance; but none was near enough for the girl to see plainly what it might be. suddenly they swam right into a big school of fishes, all yellowtails and of very large size. there must have been hundreds of them lying lazily in the water, and when they saw the mermaids they merely wiggled to one side and opened a path for the sea fairies to pass through. "will they hurt us?" asked trot. [illustration] "no, indeed," laughed the princess. "fishes are stupid creatures mostly, and this family is quite harmless." "how about sharks?" asked cap'n bill, who was swimming gracefully beside them, his hand clutched in that of pretty merla. "sharks may indeed be dangerous to you," replied clia; "so i advise you to keep them at a safe distance. they never dare attempt to bite a mermaid, and it may be they will think you belong to our band; but it is well to avoid them, if possible." "don't get careless, cap'n," added trot. "i surely won't, mate," he replied. "you see, i didn't use to be 'fraid o' sharks, 'cause if they came near i'd stick my wooden leg at 'em. but now, if they happens to fancy these green scales, it's all up with ol' bill." "never fear," said merla; "i'll take care of you on our journey, and in our palaces you will find no sharks at all." "can't they get in?" he asked, anxiously. "no. the palaces of the mermaids are inhabited only by themselves." "is there anything else to be afraid of in the sea?" asked the little girl, after they had swum quite a while in silence. "one or two things, my dear," answered princess clia. "of course, we mermaids have great powers, being fairies; yet among the sea people is one nearly as powerful as we are, and that is the devilfish." "i know," said trot; "i've seen 'em." "you have seen the smaller ones, i suppose, which sometimes rise to the surface or go near shore, and are often caught by fishermen," said clia; "but they are only second cousins of the terrible deep-sea devilfish to which i refer." "those ones are bad enough, though," declared cap'n bill. "if you know any worse ones i don't want a interduction to 'em." "the monster devilfish inhabit caves in the rugged, mountainous regions of the ocean," resumed the princess, "and they are evil spirits who delight in injuring all who meet them. none lives near our palaces, so there is little danger of your meeting any while you are our guests." "i hope we won't," said trot. "none for me," added cap'n bill. "devils of any sort ought to be give a wide berth, an' devilfishes is worser ner sea serpents." "oh, do you know the sea serpents?" asked merla, as if surprised. "not much i don't," answered the sailor; "but i've heard tell of folks as has seen 'em." "did they ever live to tell the tale?" asked trot. "sometimes," he replied. "they're jes' _or_-ful creatures, mate." "how easy it is to be mistaken," said princess clia, softly. "we know the sea serpents very well, and we like them." "you do!" exclaimed trot. "yes, dear. there are only three of them in all the world, and not only are they harmless, but quite bashful and shy. they are kind-hearted, too, and although not beautiful in appearance, they do many kind deeds and are generally beloved." "where do they live?" asked the child. "the oldest one, who is king of this ocean, lives quite near us," said clia. "his name is anko." "how old is he?" inquired cap'n bill, curiously. "no one knows. he was here before the ocean came, and he stayed here because he learned to like the water better than the land as a habitation. perhaps king anko is ten thousand years old--perhaps twenty thousand. we often lose track of the centuries down here in the sea." "that's pretty old, isn't it," said trot. "older than cap'n bill, i guess." "summat," chuckled the sailorman; "summat older, mate; but not much. p'raps the sea serpent ain't got gray whiskers." "oh yes, he has," responded merla, with a laugh. "and so have his two brothers--unko and inko. they each have an ocean of their own, you know; and once every hundred years they come here to visit their brother anko. so we've seen all three many times." "why, how old are mermaids, then?" asked trot, looking around at the beautiful creatures wonderingly. "we are like all ladies of uncertain age," rejoined the princess, with a smile. "we don't care to tell." "older than cap'n bill?" "yes, dear," said clia. "but we haven't any gray whiskers," added merla, merrily, "and our hearts are ever young." trot was thoughtful. it made her feel solemn to be in the company of such old people. the band of mermaids seemed, to all appearances, young and fresh and not a bit as if they'd been soaked in water for hundreds of years. the girl began to take more notice of the sea maidens following after her. more than a dozen were in the group; all very lovely in appearance and clothed in the same gauzy robes as merla and the princess. these attendants did not join in the conversation, but darted here and there in sportive play, and often trot heard the tinkling chorus of their laughter. whatever doubts might have arisen in the child's mind, through the ignorant tales of her sailor friend, she now found the mermaids to be light-hearted, joyous and gay, and from the first she had not been in the least afraid of her new companions. "how much farther do we have to go?" asked cap'n bill, presently. "are you getting tired?" merla inquired. "no," said he; "but i'm sorter anxious to see what your palaces look like. inside the water ain't as interestin' as the top of it. it's fine swimmin', i'll agree; an' i like it; but there ain't nuthin' special to see, that i can make out." "that is true, sir," replied the princess. "we have purposely led you through the mid-water, hoping you would see nothing to alarm you until you get more accustomed to our ocean life. moreover, we are able to travel more swiftly here. how far do you think we have already come, cap'n?" "oh, 'bout two mile," he answered. "well, we are now hundreds of miles from the cave where we started," she told him. "you don't mean it!" he exclaimed, in wonder. "then there's magic in it," announced trot, soberly. "true, my dear. to avoid tiring you, and to save time, we have used a little of our fairy power," said clia. "the result is that we are nearing our home. let us go downward a bit, now, for you must know that the mermaid palaces are at the very bottom of the ocean--and in its deepest part." [illustration: the palace of queen aquarine chap. 4] trot was surprised to find it was not at all dark or gloomy as they descended farther into the deep sea. things were not quite so clear to her eyes as they had been in the bright sunshine above the ocean's surface, but every object was distinct, nevertheless, as if she saw it through a pane of green tinted glass. the water was very clear, except for this green shading, and the little girl had never before felt so light and buoyant as she did now. it was no effort at all to dart through the water, which seemed to support her on all sides. "i don't believe i weigh anything at all," she told cap'n bill. "no more do i, trot," said he. "but that's nat'ral, seein' as we're under water so far. what bothers me most is how we manage to breathe, havin' no gills, like fishes have." "are you sure we haven't any gills?" she asked, lifting her free hand to feel her throat. "sure. ner the mermaids haven't any, either," declared cap'n bill. "then," said trot, "we're breathing by magic." the mermaids laughed at this shrewd remark, and the princess said: "you have guessed correctly, my dear. go a little slower, now, for the palaces are in sight." "where?" asked trot, eagerly. "just before you." "in that grove of trees?" inquired the girl. and, really, it seemed to her they were approaching a beautiful grove. the bottom of the sea was covered with white sand, in which grew many varieties of sea shrubs with branches like those of trees. not all of them were green, however, for the branches and leaves were of a variety of gorgeous colors. some were purple, shading down to light lavender; and there were reds all the way from a delicate rose-pink to vivid shades of scarlet. orange, yellow and blue shades were there, too, mingling with the sea-greens in a most charming manner. altogether, trot found the brilliant coloring somewhat bewildering. these sea shrubs, which in size were quite as big and tall as the trees on earth, were set so close together that their branches entwined; but there were several avenues leading into the groves, and at the entrance to each avenue the girl noticed several large fishes, with long spikes growing upon their noses. "these are swordfishes," remarked the princess, as she led the band past one of these avenues. "are they dang'rous?" asked trot. "not to us," was the reply. "the swordfishes are among our most valued and faithful servants, guarding the entrances to the gardens which surround our palaces. if any creatures try to enter uninvited these guards fight them and drive them away. their swords are sharp and strong, and they are fierce fighters, i assure you." "i've known 'em to attack ships, an' stick their swords right through the wood," said cap'n bill. "those belonged to the wandering tribes of swordfishes," explained the princess. "these, who are our servants, are too sensible and intelligent to attack ships." the band now headed into a broad passage through the "gardens," as the mermaids called these gorgeous groves, and the great swordfishes guarding the entrance made way for them to pass, afterward resuming their posts with round and watchful eyes. as they slowly swam along the avenue trot noticed that some of the bushes seemed to have fruits growing upon them; but what these fruits might be, neither she nor cap'n bill could guess. [illustration] the way wound here and there for some distance, till finally they came to a more open space, all carpeted with sea flowers of exquisite colorings. although trot did not know it, these flowers resembled the rare orchids of earth in their fanciful shapes and marvelous hues. the child did not examine them very closely, for across the carpet of flowers loomed the magnificent and extensive palaces of the mermaids. these palaces were built of coral; white, pink and yellow being used, and the colors arranged in graceful designs. the front of the main palace, which now faced them, had circular ends connecting the straight wall, not unlike the architecture we are all familiar with; yet there seemed to be no windows to the building, although a series of archways served as doors. arriving at one of the central archways the band of sea maidens separated, princess clia and merla leading trot and cap'n bill into the palace, while the other mermaids swam swiftly away to their own quarters. "welcome!" said clia, in her sweet voice. "here you are surrounded only by friends and are in perfect safety. please accept our hospitality as freely as you desire, for we consider you honored guests. i hope you will like our home," she added, a little shyly. "we are sure to, dear princess," trot hastened to say. then clia escorted them through the archway and into a lofty hall. it was not a mere grotto, but had smoothly built walls of pink coral inlaid with white. trot at first thought there was no roof, for looking upward she could see the water all above them. but the princess, reading her thought, said with a smile: "yes, there is a roof, or we would be unable to keep all the sea people out of our palace. but the roof is made of glass, to admit the light." "glass!" cried the astonished child. "then it must be an awful big pane of glass." "it is," agreed clia. "our roofs are considered quite wonderful, and we owe them to the fairy powers of our queen. of course, you understand there is no natural way to make glass under water." "no, indeed," said cap'n bill. and then he asked: "does your queen live here?" "yes. she is waiting now, in her throne room, to welcome you. shall we go in?" "i'd just as soon," replied trot, rather timidly; but she boldly followed the princess, who glided through another arch into a small room, where several mermaids were reclining upon couches of coral. they were beautifully dressed and wore many sparkling jewels. "her majesty is awaiting the strangers, princess clia," announced one of these. "you are asked to enter at once." "come, then," said clia, and once more taking trot's hand she led the girl through still another arch, while merla followed just behind them, escorting cap'n bill. they now entered an apartment so gorgeous that the child fairly gasped with astonishment. the queen's throne room was indeed the grandest and most beautiful chamber in all the ocean palaces. its coral walls were thickly inlaid with mother-of-pearl, exquisitely shaded and made into borders and floral decorations. in the corners were cabinets, upon the shelves of which many curious shells were arranged, all beautifully polished. the floor glittered with gems arranged in patterns of flowers, like a brilliant carpet. near the center of the room was a raised platform of mother-of-pearl upon which stood a couch thickly studded with diamonds, rubies, emeralds and pearls. here reclined queen aquareine, a being so lovely that trot gazed upon her spellbound and cap'n bill took off his sailor cap and held it in his hands. all about the room were grouped other mother-of-pearl couches, not raised like that of the queen, and upon each of these reclined a pretty mermaid. they could not sit down as we do, trot readily understood, because of their tails; but they rested very gracefully upon the couches, with their trailing gauzy robes arranged in fleecy folds. when clia and merla escorted the strangers down the length of the great room toward the royal throne they met with pleasant looks and smiles on every side, for the sea maidens were too polite to indulge in curious stares. they paused just before the throne, and the queen raised her head upon one elbow to observe them. "welcome, mayre," she said; "and welcome, cap'n bill. i trust you are pleased with your glimpse of the life beneath the surface of the sea." "_i_ am," answered trot, looking admiringly at the beautiful face of the queen. "it's all mighty cur'ous an' strange like," said the sailor, slowly. "i'd no idee you mermaids were like this, at all!" "allow me to explain that it was to correct your wrong ideas about us that led me to invite you to visit us," replied the queen. "we usually pay little heed to the earth people, for we are content in our own dominions; but, of course, we know all that goes on upon your earth. so, when princess clia chanced to overhear your absurd statements concerning us, we were greatly amused and decided to let you see, with your own eyes, just what we are like." "i'm glad you did," answered cap'n bill, dropping his eyes in some confusion as he remembered his former description of the mermaids. "now that you are here," continued the queen, in a cordial, friendly tone, "you may as well remain with us a few days and see the wonderful sights of our ocean." "i'm much obliged to you, ma'am," said trot; "and i'd like to stay, ever so much; but mother worries jus' dreadful if we don't get home in time." "i'll arrange all that," said aquareine, with a smile. "how?" asked the girl. "i will make your mother forget the passage of time, so she will not realize how long you are away. then she cannot worry." "can you do that?" inquired trot. "very easily. i will send your mother into a deep sleep that will last until you are ready to return home. just at present she is seated in her chair by the front window, engaged in knitting." the queen paused to raise an arm and wave it slowly to and fro. then she added: "now your good mother is asleep, little mayre, and instead of worries i promise her pleasant dreams." "won't somebody rob the house while she's asleep?" asked the child anxiously. "no, dear. my charm will protect the house from any intrusion." [illustration] "that's fine!" exclaimed trot in delight. "it's jes' won-erful!" said cap'n bill. "i wish i knew it was so. trot's mother has a awful sharp tongue when she's worrited." "you may see for yourselves," declared the queen, and waved her hand again. at once they saw before them the room in the cottage, with mayre's mother asleep by the window. her knitting was in her lap and the cat lay curled up beside her chair. it was all so natural that trot thought she could hear the clock over the fireplace tick. after a moment the scene faded away, when the queen asked with another smile: "are you satisfied?" "oh, yes!" cried trot. "but how could you do it?" "it is a form of mirage," was the reply. "we are able to bring any earth scene before us whenever we wish. sometimes these scenes are reflected above the water, so that mortals also observe them." "i've seen 'em," said cap'n bill, nodding. "i've seen mirages; but i never knowed what caused 'em, afore now." "whenever you see anything you do not understand, and wish to ask questions, i will be very glad to answer them," said the queen. "one thing that bothers me," said trot, "is why we don't get wet, being in the ocean with water all around us." "that is because no water really touches you," explained the queen. "your bodies have been made just like those of the mermaids, in order that you may fully enjoy your visit to us. one of our peculiar qualities is that water is never permitted to quite touch our bodies, or our gowns. always there remains a very small space, hardly a hair's breadth between us and the water, which is the reason we are always warm and dry." [illustration] "i see," said trot. "that's why you don't get soggy, or withered." "exactly," laughed the queen, and the other mermaids joined in her merriment. "i s'pose that's how we can breathe without gills," remarked cap'n bill, thoughtfully. "yes; the air space is constantly replenished from the water, which contains air, and this enables us to breathe as freely as you do upon the earth." "but we have fins," said trot, looking at the fin that stood upright on cap'n bill's back. "yes; they allow us to guide ourselves as we swim, and so are very useful," replied the queen. "they make us more finished," said cap'n bill, with a chuckle. then, suddenly becoming grave, he asked: "how 'bout my rheumatics, ma'am? ain't i likely to get stiffened up with all this dampness?" "no, indeed," aquareine answered; "there is no such thing as rheumatism in all our dominions. i promise no evil result shall follow this visit to us, so please be as happy and contented as possible." [illustration] [illustration: _chap 5._ the sea serpent] just then trot happened to look up at the glass roof and saw a startling sight. a big head, with a face surrounded by stubby gray whiskers, was poised just over them, and the head was connected with a long, curved body that looked much like a sewer pipe. "oh, there is king anko," said the queen, following the child's gaze. "open a door and let him in, clia, for i suppose our old friend is anxious to see the earth people." "won't he hurt us?" asked the little girl, with a shiver of fear. "who, anko? oh, no, my dear! we are very fond of the sea serpent, who is king of this ocean, although he does not rule the mermaids. old anko is a very agreeable fellow, as you will soon discover." "can he talk?" asked trot. "yes, indeed." "and can we understand what he says?" "perfectly," replied the queen. "i have given you power, while you remain here, to understand the language of every inhabitant of the sea." "that's nice," said trot, gratefully. the princess clia swam slowly to one of the walls of the throne room where, at a wave of her hand, a round hole appeared in the coral. the sea serpent at once observed this opening and the head left the roof of glass only to reappear presently at the round hole. through this he slowly crawled, until his head was just beneath the throne of queen aquareine, who said to him: "good morning, your majesty. i hope you are quite well?" "quite well, thank your majesty," answered anko; and then he turned to the strangers. "i suppose these are the earth folks you were expecting?" "yes," returned the queen; "the girl is named mayre, and the man cap'n bill." while the sea serpent looked at the visitors they ventured to look at him. he certainly was a queer creature, yet trot decided he was not at all frightful. his head was round as a ball, but his ears were sharp pointed and had tassels at the ends of them. his nose was flat and his mouth very wide indeed, but his eyes were blue and gentle in expression. the white, stubby hairs that surrounded his face were not thick, like a beard, but scattered and scraggly. from the head, the long brown body of the sea serpent extended to the hole in the coral wall, which was just big enough to admit it, and how much more of the body remained outside the child could not tell. on the back of the body were several fins, which made the creature look more like an eel than a serpent. "the girl is young and the man is old," said king anko, in a soft voice. "but i'm quite sure cap'n bill isn't as old as i am." "how old are you?" asked the sailor. "i can't say, exactly. i can remember several thousands of years back, but beyond that my memory fails me. how's your memory, cap'n bill?" "you've got me beat," was the reply. "i'll give in that you're older than i am." this seemed to please the sea serpent. "are you well?" he asked. "pretty fair," said cap'n bill. "how's yourself?" "oh, i'm very well, thank you," answered anko. "i never remember to have had a pain but three times in my life. the last time was when julius sneezer was on earth." "you mean julius cã¦sar," said trot, correcting him. "no; i mean julius sneezer," insisted the sea serpent. "that was his real name--sneezer. they called him cã¦sar sometimes, just because he took everything he could lay hands on. i ought to know, because i saw him when he was alive. did you see him when he was alive, cap'n bill?" "i reckon not," admitted the sailor. "that time i had a toothache," continued anko; "but i got a lobster to pull the tooth with his claw, so the pain was soon over." "did it hurt to pull it?" asked trot. "hurt!" exclaimed the sea serpent, groaning at the recollection. "my dear, those creatures have been called lobsters ever since! the second pain i had way back in the time of nevercouldnever." "oh, i s'pose you mean nebuchadnezzar," said trot. "do you call him that, now?" asked the sea serpent, as if surprised. "he used to be called nevercouldnever when he was alive, but this new way of spelling seems to get everything mixed up. nebuchadnezzar doesn't mean anything at all, it seems to me." "it means he ate grass," said the child. "oh, no; he didn't," declared the sea serpent. "he was the first to discover that lettuce was good to eat, and he became very fond of it. the people may have called it grass, but they were wrong. i ought to know, because i was alive when nevercouldnever lived. were you alive, then?" "no," said trot. "the pain i had then," remarked anko, "was caused by a kink in my tail, about three hundred feet from the end. there was an old octopus who did not like me, and so he tied a knot in my tail when i wasn't looking." "what did you do?" asked cap'n bill. "well, first i transformed the octopus into a jelly fish, and then i waited for the tide to turn. when my tail was untied the pain stopped." "i--i don't understand that," said trot, somewhat bewildered. "thank you, my dear," replied the sea serpent, in a grateful voice. "people who are always understood are very common. you are sure to respect those you can't understand, for you feel that perhaps they know more than you do." "about how long do you happen to be?" inquired cap'n bill. "when last measured, i was seven thousand four hundred and eighty-two feet, five inches and a quarter. i'm not sure about the quarter, but the rest is probably correct. adam measured me when cain was a baby." "where's the rest of you, then?" asked trot. "safe at home, i hope, and coiled up in my parlor," answered the sea serpent. "when i go out i usually take along only what is needed. it saves a lot of bother and i can always find my way back in the darkest night, by just coiling up the part that has been away." "do you like to be a sea serpent?" inquired the child. [illustration] "yes, for i'm king of my ocean, and there is no other sea serpent to imagine he is just as good as i am. i have two brothers who live in other oceans, but one is seven inches shorter than i am, and the other several feet shorter. it's curious to talk about feet when we haven't any feet, isn't it?" "seems so," acknowledged trot. "i feel i have much to be proud of," continued anko, in a dreamy tone; "my great age, my undisputed sway, and my exceptional length." "i don't b'lieve i'd care to live so long," remarked cap'n bill, thoughtfully. "so long as seven thousand four hundred and eighty-two feet, five inches and a quarter?" asked the sea serpent. "no; i mean so many years," replied the sailor. "but what can one do, if one happens to be a sea serpent?" anko inquired. "there is nothing in the sea that can hurt me, and i cannot commit suicide because we have no carbolic acid, or firearms, or gas to turn on. so it isn't a matter of choice, and i'd about as soon be alive as dead. it does not seem quite so monotonous, you know. but i guess i've stayed about long enough; so i'll go home to dinner. come and see me, when you have time." "thank you," said trot; and merla added: "i'll take you over to his majesty's palace when we go out, and let you see how he lives." "yes, do," said anko; and then he slowly slid out of the hole, which immediately closed behind him, leaving the coral wall as solid as before. "oh!" exclaimed trot; "king anko forgot to tell us what the third pain was about." "so he did," said cap'n bill. "we must ask him about that, when we see him. but i guess the ol' boy's mem'ry is failin', an' he can't be depended on for pertic'lars." [illustration: _chap. 6._ exploring the ocean] the queen now requested her guests to recline upon couches, that they might rest themselves from their long swim and talk more at their ease. so the girl and the sailor allowed themselves to float downward until they rested their bodies on two of the couches nearest the throne, which were willingly vacated for them by the mermaids who had occupied them until then. the visitors soon found themselves answering a great many questions about their life on the earth, for, although the queen had said she kept track of what was going on on the land, there were many details of human life in which all the mermaids seemed greatly interested. during the conversation several sea-maids came swimming into the room, bearing trays of sea apples and other fruit, which they first offered to the queen and then passed the refreshments around to the company assembled. trot and cap'n bill each took some, and the little girl found the fruits delicious to eat, as they had a richer flavor than any that grew upon land. queen aquareine was much pleased when the old sailor asked for more, but merla warned him dinner would soon be served and he must take care not to spoil his appetite for that meal. "our dinner is at noon, for we have to cook in the middle of the day, when the sun is shining," she said. "cook!" cried trot; "why, you can't build a fire in the water, can you?" "we have no need of fires," was the reply. "the glass roof of our kitchen is so curved that it concentrates the heat of the sun's rays, which are then hot enough to cook anything we wish." "but how do you get along if the day is cloudy, and the sun doesn't shine?" inquired the little girl. "then we use the hot springs that bubble up in another part of the palace," merla answered. "but the sun is the best to cook by." so, it was no surprise to trot when, about noon, dinner was announced and all the mermaids, headed by their queen and their guests, swam into another spacious room where a great, long table was laid. the dishes were of polished gold and dainty cut glass, and the cloth and napkins of fine gossamer. around the table were ranged rows of couches for the mermaids to recline upon as they ate. only the nobility and favorites of queen aquareine were invited to partake of this repast, for clia explained that tables were set for the other mermaids in different parts of the numerous palaces. [illustration] trot wondered who would serve the meal, but her curiosity was soon satisfied when several large lobsters came sliding into the room, backward, bearing in their claws trays loaded with food. each of these lobsters had a golden band around its neck to show it was the slave of the mermaids. these curious waiters were fussy creatures and trot found much amusement in watching their odd motions. they were so spry and excitable that, at times, they ran against one another and upset the platters of food, after which they began to scold and argue as to whose fault it was, until one of the mermaids quietly rebuked them and asked them to be more quiet and more careful. the queen's guests had no cause to complain of the dinner provided. first the lobsters served bowls of turtle soup, which proved hot and deliciously flavored. then came salmon steaks fried in fish oil, with a fungus bread that tasted much like field mushrooms. oysters, clams, soft-shell crabs and various preparations of sea foods followed. the salad was a delicate leaf from some seaweed that trot thought was much nicer than lettuce. several courses were served and the lobsters changed the plates with each course, chattering and scolding as they worked, and as trot said, "doing everything backwards" in their nervous, fussy way. many of the things offered them to eat were unknown to the visitors, and the child was suspicious of some of them; but cap'n bill asked no questions and ate everything offered him, so trot decided to follow his example. certain it is they found the meal very satisfying, and evidently there was no danger of their being hungry while they remained the guests of the mermaids. when the fruits came, trot thought that must be the last course of the big dinner, but, following the fruits were ice creams frozen into the shapes of flowers. "how funny," said the child, "to be eating ice cream at the bottom of the sea!" "why does that surprise you?" inquired the queen. "i can't see where you get the ice to freeze it," trot replied. "it is brought to us from the icebergs that float in the northern parts of the ocean," explained merla. "o' course, trot; you orter thought o' that; i did," said cap'n bill. the little girl was glad there was no more to eat, for she was ashamed to feel she had eaten every morsel she could. her only excuse for being so greedy was that "ev'rything tasted just splendid!" as she told the queen. "and now," said aquareine, "i will send you out for a swim with merla, who will show you some of the curious sights of our sea. you need not go far this afternoon, and when you return we will have another interesting talk together." so the blonde mermaid led trot and cap'n bill outside the palace walls, where they found themselves in the pretty flower gardens. "i'd feel all right, mate, if i could have a smoke," remarked the old sailor to the child; "but that's a thing as can't be did here in the water." "why not?" asked merla, who overheard him. "a pipe has to be lighted, an' a match wouldn't burn," he replied. "try it," suggested the mermaid. "i do not mind your smoking at all, if it will give you pleasure." "it's a bad habit i've got, an' i'm too old to break myself of it," said cap'n bill. then he felt in the big pockets of his coat and took out a pipe and a bag of tobacco. after he had carefully filled his pipe, rejoicing in the fact that the tobacco was not at all wet, he took out his match box and struck a light. the match burned brightly and soon the sailor was puffing the smoke from his pipe in great contentment. the smoke ascended through the water in the shape of bubbles and trot wondered what anyone who happened to be floating upon the surface of the ocean would think to see smoke coming from the water. "well, i find i can smoke, all right," remarked cap'n bill; "but it bothers me to understand why." "it is because of the air space existing between the water and everything you have about you," explained merla. "but now, if you will come this way, i will take you to visit some of our neighbors." [illustration] they passed over the carpet of sea flowers, the gorgeous blossoms swaying on their stems as the motion of the people in the water above them disturbed their repose, and presently the three entered the dense shrubbery surrounding the palaces. they had not proceeded far when they came to a clearing among the bushes, and here merla paused. trot and cap'n bill paused, too, for floating in the clear water was a group of beautiful shapes that the child thought looked like molds of wine jelly. they were round as a dinner plate, soft and transparent, but tinted in such lovely hues that no artist's brush has ever been able to imitate them. some were deep sapphire blue; others rose pink; still others a delicate topaz color. they seemed to have neither heads, eyes nor ears, yet it was easy to see they were alive and able to float in any direction they wished to go. in shape they resembled inverted flowerpots, with the upper edges fluted, and from the centers floated what seemed to be bouquets of flowers. "how pretty!" exclaimed trot, enraptured by the sight. "yes; this is a rare variety of jellyfish," replied merla. "the creatures are not so delicate as they appear, and live for a long time--unless they get too near the surface and the waves wash them ashore." after watching the jellyfish a few moments they followed merla through the grove and soon a low chant, like that of an indian song, fell upon their ears. it was a chorus of many small voices, and grew louder as they swam on. presently a big rock rose suddenly before them from the bottom of the sea, rearing its steep side far up into the water overhead, and this rock was thickly covered with tiny shells that clung fast to its surface. the chorus they heard appeared to come from these shells, and merla said to her companions: "these are the singing barnacles. they are really very amusing, and if you listen carefully you can hear what they say." so trot and cap'n bill listened, and this was what the barnacles sang: "_we went to topsy-turvy land to see a man-o'-war, and we were much attached to it, because we simply were; we found an anchor-ite within the mud upon the lea for the ghost of jonah's whale he ran away and went to sea. oh, it was awful! it was unlawful! we rallied round the flag in sev'ral millions; they couldn't shake us; they had to take us; so the halibut and cod they danced cotillions._" "what does it all mean?" asked trot. "i suppose they refer to the way barnacles have of clinging to ships," replied merla; "but usually their songs mean nothing at all. the little barnacles haven't many brains, so we usually find their songs quite stupid." "do they write comic operas?" asked the child. "i think not," answered the mermaid. "they seem to like the songs themselves," remarked cap'n bill. "oh, yes; they sing all day long. but it never matters to them whether their songs mean anything or not. let us go in this direction and visit some other sea people." so they swam away from the barnacle-covered rock and trot heard the last chorus as she slowly followed their conductor. the barnacles were singing: "_oh, very well, then, i hear the curfew, please go away and come some other day; goliath tussels with samson's muscles, yet the muscles never fight in oyster bay._" "it's jus' nonsense!" said trot, scornfully. "why don't they sing 'annie laurie,' or 'home, sweet home,' or else keep quiet?" "why, if they were quiet," replied merla, "they wouldn't be singing barnacles." they now came to one of the avenues which led from the sea garden out into the broad ocean, and here two swordfishes were standing guard. "is all quiet?" merla asked them. "just as usual, your highness," replied one of the guards. "mummercubble was sick this morning, and grunted dreadfully; but he's better now and has gone to sleep. king anko has been stirring around some, but is now taking his after-dinner nap. i think it will be perfectly safe for you to swim out for a while, if you wish." "who's mummercubble?" asked trot, as they passed out into deep water. "he's the sea pig," replied merla. "i am glad he is asleep, for now we won't meet him." "don't you like him?" inquired trot. "oh, he complains so bitterly of everything that he bores us," merla answered. "mummercubble is never contented or happy for a single minute." "i've seen people like that," said cap'n bill, with a nod of his head; "an' they has a way of upsettin' the happiest folks they meet." "look out!" suddenly cried the mermaid. "look out for your fingers! here are the snapping eels." "who? where?" asked trot, anxiously. and now, they were in the midst of a cluster of wriggling, darting eels which sported all around them in the water with marvelous activity. [illustration] "yes, look out for your fingers and your noses!" said one of the eels, making a dash for cap'n bill. at first the sailor was tempted to put out a hand and push the creature away, but remembering that his fingers would thus be exposed he remained quiet, and the eel snapped harmlessly just before his face, and then darted away. "stop it!" said merla; "stop it this minute, or i'll report your impudence to aquareine." "oh, who cares?" shouted the eels. "we're not afraid of the mermaids." "she'll stiffen you all up again, as she did once before," said merla, "if you try to hurt the earth people." "are these earth people?" asked one. and then they all stopped their play and regarded trot and cap'n bill with their little black eyes. "the old polliwog looks something like king anko," said one of them. "i'm not a polliwog!" answered cap'n bill, angrily. "i'm a re-spec'able sailorman, an' i'll have you treat me decent or i'll know why." "sailor!" said another. "that means to float on the water--not _in_ it. what are you doing down here?" "i'm jes' a-visitin'," answered cap'n bill. "he is the guest of our queen," said merla, "and so is this little girl. if you do not behave nicely to them you will surely be sorry." "oh, that's all right," replied one of the biggest eels, wriggling around in a circle and then snapping at a companion, which as quickly snapped out of his way. "we know how to be polite to company as well as the mermaids. we won't hurt them." "come on, fellows; let's go scare old mummercubble," cried another; and then in a flash, they all darted away and left our friends to themselves. trot was greatly relieved. "i don't like eels," she said. "they are more mischievous than harmful," replied merla; "but i do not care much for them myself." "no," added cap'n bill; "they ain't respec'ful." [illustration] [illustration: _chap. 7._ _the_ aristocratic codfish] the three swam slowly along, quite enjoying the cool depths of the water. every little while they met with some strange creature--or one that seemed strange to the earth people--for although trot and cap'n bill had seen many kinds of fish, after they had been caught and pulled from the water, that was very different from meeting them in their own element, "face to face," as trot expressed it. now that the various fishes were swimming around free and unafraid in their deep-sea home, they were quite different from the gasping, excited creatures struggling at the end of a fishline, or flopping from a net. before long they came upon a group of large fishes lying lazily near the bottom of the sea. they were a dark color upon their backs and silver underneath, but not especially pretty to look at. the fishes made no effort to get out of merla's way and remained motionless, except for the gentle motion of their fins and gills. [illustration] "here," said the mermaid, pausing, "is the most aristocratic family of fish in all the sea." "what are they?" asked the girl. "codfish," was the reply. "their only fault is that they are too haughty and foolishly proud of their pedigree." overhearing this speech one codfish said to another, in a very dignified tone of voice: "what insolence!" "isn't it?" replied the other. "there ought to be a law to prevent these common mermaids from discussing their superiors." "my sakes!" said trot, astonished; "how stuck up they are, aren't they?" for a moment the group of fishes stared at her solemnly. then one of them remarked in a disdainful manner: "come, my dears, let us leave these vulgar creatures." "i'm not as vulgar as you are!" exclaimed trot, much offended by this speech. "where i came from we only eat codfish when there's nothing else in the house to eat." "how absurd!" observed one of the creatures, arrogantly. "eat codfish, indeed!" said another in a lofty manner. "yes, and you're pretty salty, too, i can tell you. at home you're nothing but a pick-up!" said trot. "dear me!" exclaimed the first fish which had spoken; "must we stand this insulting language--and from a person to whom we have never been introduced?" "i don't need any interduction," replied the girl; "i've eaten you, and you always make me thirsty." merla laughed merrily at this, and the codfish said, with much dignity: "come, fellow aristocrats; let us go." "never mind; we're going ourselves," announced merla, and followed by her guests the pretty mermaid swam away. "i've heard tell of codfish aristocercy," said cap'n bill; "but i never knowed 'zac'ly what it meant afore." "they jus' made me mad, with all their airs," observed trot; "so i gave 'em a piece of my mind." "you surely did, mate," said the sailor; "but i ain't sure they understand what they're like when they're salted an' hung up in the pantry. folks gener'ly gets stuck-up 'cause they don't know theirselves like other folks knows 'em." "we are near crabville now," declared merla. "shall we visit the crabs and see what they are doing?" "yes, let's," replied trot. "the crabs are lots of fun. i've often caught them among the rocks on the shore and laughed at the way they act. wasn't it funny at dinner time to see the way they slid around with the plates?" [illustration] "those were not crabs, but lobsters and crawfish," remarked the mermaid. "they are very intelligent creatures, and by making them serve us we save ourselves much household work. of course, they are awkward and provoke us sometimes; but no servants are perfect, it is said, so we get along with ours as well as we can." "they're all right," protested the child, "even if they did tip things over once in a while. but it is easy to work in a sea palace, i'm sure, because there's no dusting or sweeping to be done." "or scrubbin'," added cap'n bill. "the crabs," said merla, "are second cousins to the lobsters, although much smaller in size. there are many families--or varieties--of crabs, and so many of them live in one place near here that we call it crabville. i think you will enjoy seeing these little creatures in their native haunts." they now approached a kelp bed, the straight, thin stems of the kelp running far upward to the surface of the water. here and there upon the stalks were leaves, but trot thought the growing kelp looked much like sticks of macaroni, except they were a rich, red-brown color. it was beyond the kelp--which they had to push aside as they swam through it, so thickly did it grow--that they came to a higher level, a sort of plateau on the ocean's bottom. it was covered with scattered rocks of all sizes, which appeared to have broken off from big shelving rocks they observed near by. the place they entered seemed like one of the rocky canyons you often see upon the earth. "here live the fiddler crabs," said merla; "but we must have taken them by surprise, it is so quiet." even as she spoke there was a stirring and scrambling among the rocks, and soon scores of light green crabs were gathered before the visitors. the crabs bore fiddles of all sorts and shapes in their claws, and one big fellow carried a leader's baton. the latter crab climbed upon a flat rock and in an excited voice called out: "ready, now--ready, good fiddlers. we'll play number 19--hail to the mermaids. ready! take aim! fire away!" at this command every crab began scraping at his fiddle as hard as he could, and the sounds were so shrill and unmusical that trot wondered when they would begin to play a tune. but they never did; it was one regular mix-up of sounds from beginning to end. when the noise finally stopped the leader turned to his visitors and, waving his baton toward them, asked: "well, what do you think of that?" "not much," said trot, honestly. "what's it all about?" "i composed it myself!" said the fiddler crab. "but it's highly classical, i admit. all really great music is an acquired taste." "i don't like it," remarked cap'n bill. "it might do all right to stir up a racket new year's eve, but to call that screechin' music--" just then the crabs started fiddling again, harder than ever, and as it promised to be a long performance they left the little creatures scraping away at their fiddles, as if for dear life, and swam along the rocky canyon until, on turning a corner, they came upon a new and different scene. there were crabs here, too--many of them--and they were performing the queerest antics imaginable. some were building themselves into a pyramid, each standing on edge, with the biggest and strongest ones at the bottom. when the crabs were five or six rows high they would all tumble over, still clinging to one another, and, having reached the ground, they would separate and commence to build the pyramid over again. others were chasing one another around in a circle, always moving backward or sidewise, and trying to play "leapfrog" as they went. still others were swinging on slight branches of seaweed, or turning cart wheels, or indulging in similar antics. merla and the earth people watched the busy little creatures for some time before they were themselves observed; but finally, trot gave a laugh when one crab fell on its back and began frantically waving its legs to get right-side-up again. at the sound of her laughter they all stopped their play and came toward the visitors in a flock, looking up at them with their bright eyes in a most comical way. [illustration] "welcome home!" cried one, as he turned a back somersault and knocked another crab over. "what's the difference between a mermaid and a tadpole?" asked another, in a loud voice, and without a pause continued: "why, one drops its tail and the other holds on to it. ha, ha! ho, ho! hee-hee!" "these," said merla, "are the clown crabs. they are very silly things, as you may already have discovered; but for a short time they are rather amusing. one tires of them very soon." "they're funny," said trot, laughing again. "it's almost as good as a circus. i don't think they would make me tired; but, then, i'm not a mermaid." the clown crabs had now formed a row in front of them. "mr. johnsing," asked one, "why is a mermaid like an automobile?" "i don't know, tommy blimken," answered a big crab in the middle of the row. "_why_ do you think a mermaid is like an automobile?" "because they both get tired," said tommy blimken. then all the crabs laughed, and tommy seemed to laugh louder than the rest. "how do the crabs in the sea know anything 'bout auto'biles?" asked trot. "why, tommy blimken and harry hustle were both captured once by humans and put in an aquarium," answered the mermaid. "but one day they climbed out and escaped, finally making their way back to the sea and home again. so they are quite traveled you see, and great favorites among the crabs. while they were on land they saw a great many curious things, and so i suppose they saw automobiles." "we did, we did!" cried harry hustle, an awkward crab with one big claw and one little one. "and we saw earth people with legs--awfully funny they were; and animals called horses, with legs; and other creatures with legs; and the people cover themselves with the queerest things--they even wear feathers and flowers on their heads, and----" "oh, we know all about that," said trot; "we live on the earth ourselves." "well, you're lucky to get off from it and into the good water," said the crab. "i nearly died on the earth; it was so stupid, dry and airy. but the circus was great. they held the performance right in front of the aquarium where we lived, and tommy and i learned all the tricks of the tumblers. hi! come on, fellows, and show the earth people what you can do!" at this the crabs began performing their antics again; but they did the same things over and over, so cap'n bill and trot soon tired, as merla said they would, and decided they had seen enough of the crab circus. so they proceeded to swim farther up the rocky canyon, and near its upper end they came to a lot of conch shells lying upon the sandy bottom. a funny looking crab was sticking his head out from each of these shells. "here are the hermit crabs," said one of the mermaids. "they steal these shells and live in them, so no enemies can attack them." "don't they get lonesome?" asked trot. "perhaps so, my dear. but they do not seem to mind being lonesome. they are great cowards, and think if they can but protect their lives there is nothing else to care for. unlike the jolly crabs we have just left, the hermits are cross and unsociable." "oh, keep quiet and go away!" said one of the hermit crabs, in a grumpy voice. "no one wants mermaids around here." then every crab withdrew its head into its shell, and our friends saw them no more. "they're not very polite," observed trot, following the mermaid as merla swam upward into the middle water. "i know, now, why cross people are called 'crabbed'," said cap'n bill. "they've got dispositions jes' like these 'ere hermit crabs." [illustration] presently, they came upon a small flock of mackerel, and noticed that the fishes seemed much excited. when they saw the mermaid they cried out: "oh, merla! what do you think? our flippity has just gone to glory!" "when?" asked the mermaid. "just now," one replied. "we were lying in the water, talking quietly together when a spinning, shining thing came along and our dear flippity ate it. then he went shooting up to the top of the water and gave a flop and--went to glory! isn't it splendid, merla?" "poor flippity!" sighed the mermaid. "i'm sorry, for he was the prettiest and nicest mackerel in your whole flock." "what does it mean?" asked trot. "how did flippity go to glory?" "why, he was caught by a hook, and pulled out of the water into some boat," merla explained. "but these poor, stupid creatures do not understand that; and when one of them is jerked out of the water and disappears they have an idea he has gone to glory--which means to them some unknown, but beautiful sea." "i've often wondered," said trot, "why fishes are foolish enough to bite on hooks." "they must know enough to know they're hooks," added cap'n bill, musingly. "oh, they do," replied merla. "i've seen fishes gather around a hook and look at it carefully for a long time. they well know it is a hook, and that if they bite the bait upon it they will be pulled out of the water. but they are curious to know what will happen to them afterward, and think it means happiness, instead of death. so finally, one takes the hook and disappears, and the others never know what becomes of him." "why don't you tell 'em the truth?" asked trot. "oh, we do. the mermaids have warned them many times, but it does no good at all. the fish are stupid creatures." "but i wish i was flippity," said one of the mackerel, staring at trot with his big, round eyes. "he went to glory before i could eat the hook myself." "you're lucky," answered the child. "flippity will be fried in a pan for some one's dinner. you wouldn't like that, would you?" "flippity has gone to glory!" said another, and then they swam away in haste to tell the news to all they met. "i never heard of anything so foolish," remarked trot, as they swam slowly on through the clear blue water. "yes; it is very foolish, and very sad," answered merla. "but, if the fishes were wise, men could not catch them for food, and many poor people on your earth make their living by fishing." "it seems wicked to catch such pretty things," said the child. "i do not think so," merla replied, laughingly; "for they were born to become food for some one, and men are not the only ones that eat fishes. many creatures of the sea feed upon them. they even eat one another, at times. and if none was ever destroyed they would soon become so numerous that they would clog the waters of the ocean, and leave no room for the rest of us. so, after all, perhaps it is just as well they are thoughtless and foolish." presently they came to some round balls that looked much like balloons in shape and were gaily colored. they floated quietly in the water, and trot inquired what they were. "balloonfish," answered merla. "they are helpless creatures, but have little spikes all over them, so their enemies dare not bite them for fear of getting pricked." trot found the balloonfish quite interesting. they had little dots of eyes and dots for mouths; but she could see no noses, and their fins and tails were very small. "they catch these fish in the south sea islands and make lanterns of 'em," said cap'n bill. "they first skin 'em, and sew the skin up again to let it dry, and then they put candles inside and the light shines through the dried skin." [illustration: flippity's gone to glory] many other curious sights they saw in the ocean that afternoon, and both cap'n bill and trot thoroughly enjoyed their glimpse of sea life. at last merla said it was time to return to the palace, from which she claimed they had not, at any time, been very far distant. "we must prepare for dinner, as it will soon begin to grow dark in the water," continued their conductor. so they swam leisurely back to the groves that surrounded the palaces, and as they entered the gardens the sun sank, and deep shadows began to form in the ocean depths. [illustration] [illustration: _chap. 8._ a banquet under water] the palaces of the mermaids were all aglow with lights as they approached them, and trot was amazed at the sight. "where did the lamps come from?" she asked their guide, wonderingly. "they are not lamps, my dear," replied merla, much amused at this suggestion; "we use electric lights in our palaces, and have done so for thousands of years--long before the earth people knew of electric lights." "but where do you get 'em?" inquired cap'n bill, who was as much astonished as the girl. "from a transparent jellyfish which naturally emits a strong and beautiful electric light," was the answer. "we have many hundreds of them in our palaces, as you will presently see." their way was now lighted by small phosphorescent creatures scattered about the sea gardens and which merla informed them were hyalã¦a, or sea glowworms. but their light was dim when compared to that of the electric jellyfish, which they found placed in clusters upon the ceilings of all the rooms of the palaces, rendering them light as day. trot watched these curious creatures with delight, for delicately colored lights ran around their bodies in every direction in a continuous stream, shedding splendid rays throughout the vast halls. a group of mermaids met the visitors in the hall of the main palace, and told merla the queen had instructed them to show the guests to their rooms as soon as they arrived. so trot followed two of them through several passages, after which they swam upward and entered a circular opening. there were no stairs here, because there was no need of them, and the little girl soon found herself in an upper room that was very beautiful indeed. all the walls were covered with iridescent shells, polished till they resembled mother-of-pearl, and upon the glass ceiling were clusters of the brilliant electric jellyfish, rendering the room bright and cheerful with their radiance. in one corner stood a couch of white coral, with gossamer draperies floating around it from the four high posts. upon examining it, the child found the couch was covered with soft, amber sponges, which rendered it very comfortable to lie upon. in a wardrobe she found several beautiful gossamer gowns, richly embroidered in colored seaweeds, and these mayre was told she might wear while she remained the guest of the mermaids. she also found a toilet table with brushes, combs and other conveniences, all of which were made of polished tortoise-shell. really, the room was more dainty and comfortable than one might suppose possible in a palace far beneath the surface of the sea, and trot was greatly delighted with her new quarters. the mermaid attendants assisted the child to dress herself in one of the prettiest robes, which she found to be quite dry and fitted perfectly. then the sea-maids brushed and dressed her hair, and tied it with ribbons of cherry-red seaweed. finally they placed around her neck a string of pearls that would have been priceless upon the earth, and now the little girl announced she was ready for supper and had a good appetite. cap'n bill had been given a similar room, near trot's; but the old sailor refused to change his clothes for any others offered him, for which reason he was ready for supper long before his comrade. "what bothers me, mate," he said to the little girl, as they swam toward the great banquet hall where queen aquareine awaited them, "is why we ain't crushed by the pressin' of the water agin us, bein' as we're down here in the deep sea." "how's that, cap'n? why should we be crushed?" she asked. "why, ev'r'body knows that the deeper you go in the sea the more the water presses agin you," he explained. "even the divers in their steel jackets can't stand it very deep down. an' here we be, miles from the top o' the water, i 'spect, an' we don't feel crowded a bit." "i know why," answered the child, wisely. "the water don't touch us, you see. if it did, it might crush us; but it don't. it's always held a little way off from our bodies by the magic of the fairy mermaids." "true enough, trot," declared the sailorman. "what an idjut i was not to think o' that myself!" in the royal banquet hall were assembled many of the mermaids, headed by the lovely queen, and as soon as their earth guests arrived aquareine ordered the meal to be served. the lobsters again waited upon the table, wearing little white caps and aprons which made them look very funny; but trot was so hungry after her afternoon's excursion that she did not pay as much attention to the lobsters as she did to her supper, which was very delicious and consisted of many courses. a lobster spilled some soup on cap'n bill's bald head and made him yell for a minute, because it was hot and he had not expected it, but the queen apologized very sweetly for the awkwardness of her servants, and the sailor soon forgot all about the incident in his enjoyment of the meal. after the feast ended they all went to the big reception room, where some of the mermaids played upon harps while others sang pretty songs. they danced together, too--a graceful swimming-dance, so queer to the little girl that it interested and amused her greatly. cap'n bill seemed a bit bashful among so many beautiful mermaids, yet he was pleased when the queen offered him a place beside her throne, where he could see and hear all the delightful entertainment provided for the royal guests. he did not talk much, being a man of few words except when alone with trot; but his light blue eyes were big and round with wonder at the sights he saw. trot and the sailorman went to bed early and slept soundly upon their sponge-covered couches. the little girl never wakened until long after the sun was shining down through the glass roof of her room, and when she opened her eyes she was startled to find a number of big, small and middle-sized fishes staring at her through the glass. "that's one bad thing 'bout this mermaid palace," she said to herself; "it's too public. ever'thing in the sea can look at you through the glass as much as it likes. i wouldn't mind fishes looking at me if they hadn't such big eyes, an'--goodness me! there's a monster that's all head! and there goes a fish with a sail on its back; an' here's old mummercubble, i'm sure, for he's got a head just like a pig." [illustration] she might have watched the fishes on the roof for hours, had she not remembered it was late and breakfast must be ready. so she dressed, and made her toilet, and swam down into the palace to find cap'n bill and the mermaids politely waiting for her to join them. the sea maidens were as fresh and lovely as ever, while each and all proved sweet tempered and merry, even at the breakfast table--and that is where people are cross, if they ever are. during the meal the queen said: "i shall take you this morning to the most interesting part of the ocean, where the largest and most remarkable sea creatures live. and we must visit king anko, too, for the sea serpent would feel hurt and slighted if i did not bring my guests to call upon him." "that will be nice," said trot, eagerly; but cap'n bill asked: "is there any danger, ma'am?" "i think not," replied queen aquareine. "i cannot see that you will be exposed to any danger at all, so long as i am with you. but we are going into the neighborhood of some fierce and even terrible beings, which would attack you at once did they suspect you to be earth people. so, in order to guard your safety, i intend to draw the magic circle around both of you before we start." "what is the magic circle?" asked trot. "a fairy charm that prevents any enemy from touching you. no monster of the sea, however powerful, will be able to reach your body while you are protected by the magic circle," declared the queen. "oh, then, i'll not be a bit afraid," returned the child, with perfect confidence. "am i to have the magic circle drawn around me, too?" asked cap'n bill. "of course," answered aquareine. "you will need no other protection than that, yet princess clia and i will both be with you. for to-day i shall leave merla to rule our palaces in my place until we return." no sooner was breakfast finished than trot was anxious to start. the girl was also curious to discover what the powerful magic circle might prove to be, but she was a little disappointed in the ceremony. the queen merely grasped her fairy wand in her right hand and swam around the child in a circle, from left to right. then she took her wand in her left hand and swam around trot in another circle, from right to left. "now, my dear," said she, "you are safe from any creature we are liable to meet." she performed the same ceremony for cap'n bill, who was doubtful about the magic circle, because he felt the same after it as he had before. but he said nothing of his unbelief, and soon they left the palace and started upon their journey. [illustration: _chap. 9._ the bashful octopus] it was a lovely day, and the sea was like azure under the rays of the sun. over the flower beds and through the gardens they swam, emerging into the open sea in a direction opposite that taken by the visitors the day before. the party consisted of but four: queen aquareine, princess clia, trot and cap'n bill. "people who live upon the land know only those sea creatures which they are able to catch in nets, or upon hooks, or those which become disabled and are washed ashore," remarked the queen, as they swam swiftly through the clear water. "and those who sail in ships see only the creatures who chance to come to the surface. but, in the deep ocean caverns are queer beings, that no mortal has ever heard of or beheld, and some of these we are to visit. we shall also see some sea shrubs and flowering weeds, which are sure to delight you with their beauty." the sights really began before they had gone very far from the palace, and a school of butterfly fish, having gorgeous colors spattered over their broad wings, was first to delight the strangers. they swam just as butterflies fly, with a darting, jerky motion, and called a merry "good morning!" to the mermaids as they passed. "these butterfly fish are remarkably active," said the princess, "and their quick motions protect them from their enemies. we like to meet them; they are always so gay and good-natured." "why, so am i!" cried a sharp voice just beside them, and they all paused to discover what creature had spoken to them. "take care," said clia, in a low voice. "it's an octopus." trot looked eagerly around. a long, brown arm stretched across their way in front, and another just behind them; but that did not worry her. the octopus, himself, came slowly sliding up to them, and proved to be well worth looking at. he wore a red coat with brass buttons, and a silk hat was tipped over one ear. his eyes were somewhat dull and watery and he had a moustache of long, hair-like "feelers" that curled stiffly at the ends. when he tried to smile at them he showed two rows of sharp, white teeth. in spite of his red coat and yellow embroidered vest, his standing collar and carefully tied cravat, the legs of the octopus were bare, and trot noticed he used some of his legs for arms, as in one of them was held a slender cane, and in another, a handkerchief. "well, well!" said the octopus. "are you all dumb? or don't you know enough to be civil when you meet a neighbor?" "we know how to be civil to our friends," replied trot, who did not like the way he spoke. "well, aren't we friends, then?" asked the octopus, in an airy tone of voice. "i think not," said the little girl. "octopuses are horrid creatures." "octo_pi_, if you please; octo_pi_" said the monster, with a laugh. "i don't see any pie that pleases me," replied trot, beginning to get angry. "octo_pus_ means one of us; two, or more are called octo_pi_," remarked the creature, as if correcting her speech. "i suppose a lot of you would be a whole bakery!" she said, scornfully. "our name is latin. it was given us by learned scientists years ago," said the octopus. "that's true enough," agreed cap'n bill. "the learned scientists named ev'ry blamed thing they come acrost, an' gener'ly they picked out names as nobody could understand, or pernounce." [illustration] "that isn't our fault, sir," said the octopus. "indeed, it's pretty hard for us to go through life with such terrible names. think of the poor little sea horse. he used to be a merry and cheerful fellow, but since they named him 'hippocampus' he hasn't smiled once." "let's go," said trot; "i don't like to 'sociate with octopuses." "octo_pi_," said the creature, again correcting her. "you're jus' as horrid, whether you're puses or pies," she declared. "horrid!" cried the monster, in a shocked tone of voice. "not only horrid, but horrible!" persisted the girl. "may i ask in what way?" he inquired, and it was easy to see he was offended. "why, ev'rybody knows that octopuses are jus' wicked an' deceitful," she said. "up on the earth, where i live, they call the stannerd oil company an octopus, an' the coal trust an octopus, an'----" "stop, stop!" cried the monster, in a pleading voice. "do you mean to tell me that the earth people, whom i have always respected, compare me to the stannerd oil company?" "yes," said trot, positively. "that's what they do," added cap'n bill, nodding his grizzled head. "oh, what a disgrace! what a deep, direful, dreadful disgrace!" moaned the octopus, drooping his head in shame; and trot could see great tears rolling down his cheeks. "this comes of having a bad name," said the queen, gently, for she was moved by the monster's grief. "it is unjust! it is cruel and unjust!" sobbed the creature, mournfully. "just because we have several long arms, and take whatever we can reach, they accuse us of being like--like--oh, i cannot say it! it is too shameful--too humiliating!" "come; let's go," said trot, again; so they left the poor octopus weeping and wiping his watery eyes with his handkerchief, and swam on their way. "i'm not a bit sorry for him," remarked the child; "for his legs remind me of serpents." "so they do me," agreed cap'n bill. "but the octopi are not very bad," said the princess, "and we get along with them much better than we do with their cousins the sea devils." "oh. are the sea devils their cousins?" asked trot. "yes; and they are the only creatures of the ocean which we greatly fear," replied aquareine. "i hope we shall meet none to-day, for we are going near to the dismal caverns where they live." "what are the sea devils like, ma'am?" inquired cap'n bill, a little uneasily. "something like the octopus you just saw, only much larger and of a bright scarlet color, striped with black," answered the queen. "they are very fierce and terrible creatures, and nearly as much dreaded by the inhabitants of the ocean as is zog, and nearly as powerful as king anko himself." "zog! who is zog?" questioned the girl. "i haven't heard of him, before now." "we do not like to mention zog's name," responded the queen, in a low voice. "he is the wicked genius of the sea, and a magician of great power." "what's he like?" asked cap'n bill. "he is a dreadful creature, part fish, part man, part beast and part serpent. centuries ago they cast him off the earth into the sea, where he has caused much trouble. once he waged a terrible war against king anko, but the sea serpent finally conquered zog, and drove the magician into his castle, where he now stays shut up. for if ever anko catches the monster outside of his enchanted castle he will kill him, and zog knows that very well." "seems like you have your troubles down here, just as we do on top the ground," remarked cap'n bill. "but, i'm glad old zog is shut up in his castle," added trot. "is it a sea castle, like your own palaces?" "i cannot say, my dear, for the enchantment makes it invisible to all eyes but those of its inhabitants," replied aquareine. "no one sees zog now, and we scarcely ever hear of him; but all the sea people know he is here, some place, and fear his power. even in the old days, before anko conquered him, zog was the enemy of the mermaids, as he was of all the good and respectable seafolk. but do not worry about the magician, i beg of you, for he has not dared to do an evil deed in many, many years." "oh, i'm not afraid," asserted trot. "i'm glad of that," said the queen. "keep together, friends, and be careful not to separate, for here comes an army of sawfishes." even as aquareine spoke they saw a swirl and commotion in the water ahead of them, while a sound like a muffled roar fell upon their ears. then swiftly there dashed upon them a group of great fishes, with long saws sticking out in front of their noses, armed with sharp hooked teeth, all set in a row. they were larger than the swordfishes and seemed more fierce and bold. but the mermaids and trot, and cap'n bill quietly awaited their attack, and instead of tearing them with their saws, as they expected to do, the fishes were unable to touch them at all. they tried every possible way to get at their proposed victims, but the magic circle was all-powerful and turned aside the ugly saws; so our friends were not disturbed at all. seeing this, the sawfishes soon abandoned the attempt and with growls and roars of disappointment swam away and were quickly out of sight. trot had been a wee bit frightened during the attack, but now she laughed gleefully and told the queen that it seemed very nice to be protected by fairy powers. the water grew a darker blue as they descended into its depths, farther and farther away from the rays of the sun. trot was surprised to find she could see so plainly through the high wall of water above her; but the sun was able to shoot its beams straight down through the transparent sea, and they seemed to penetrate to every nook and crevice of the rocky bottom. in this deeper part of the ocean some of the fishes had a phosphorescent light of their own, and these could be seen far ahead, as if they were lanterns. the explorers met a school of argonauts going up to the surface for a sail, and the child watched these strange creatures with much curiosity. the argonauts live in shells, in which they are able to hide in case of danger from prowling wolf fishes; but otherwise they crawl out and carry their shells like humps upon their backs. then they spread their skinny sails above them and sail away under water till they come to the surface, where they float and let the currents of air carry them along the same as the currents of water had done before. trot thought the argonauts comical little creatures, with their big eyes and sharp noses, and to her they looked like a fleet of tiny ships. it is said that men got their first idea of boats, and of how to sail them, from watching these little argonauts. [illustration] [illustration: _chap. 10._ the undiscovered island] in following the fleet of argonauts the four explorers had risen higher in the water and soon found they had wandered to an open space that seemed to trot like the flat top of a high hill. the sands were covered with a growth of weeds so gorgeously colored that one who had never peered beneath the surface of the sea would scarcely believe they were not the product of a dye shop. every known hue seemed represented in the delicate fern-like leaves that swayed softly to and fro as the current moved them. they were not set close together, these branches of magnificent hues, but were scattered sparsely over the sandy bottom of the sea, so that while from a distance they seemed thick, a nearer view found them spread out with ample spaces of sand between them. in these sandy spaces lay the real attractiveness of the place, for here were many of those wonders of the deep that have surprised and interested people in all ages. first were the starfishes--hundreds of them, it seemed--lying sleepily on the bottom, with their five or six points extended outward. they were of various colors, some rich and brilliant, others of dark brown hues. a few had wound their arms around the weeds, or were creeping slowly from one place to another, in the latter case turning their points downward and using them as legs. but most of them were lying motionless, and as trot looked down upon them she thought they resembled stars in the sky on a bright night--except that the blue of the heavens was here replaced by the white sand, and the twinkling diamond stars by the colored starfish. "we are near an island," said the queen, "and that is why so many starfishes are here, as they love to keep close to shore. also the little sea horses love these weeds and to me they are more interesting than the starfish." trot now noticed the sea horses for the first time. they were quite small--merely two or three inches high--but had funny little heads that were shaped much like the head of a horse, and bright, intelligent eyes. they had no legs, though, for their bodies ended in tails which they twined around the stems of seaweeds to support themselves, and keep the currents from carrying them away. trot bent down close to examine one of the queer little creatures, and exclaimed: "why, the sea horses haven't any fins, or anything to swim with." "oh, yes we have," replied the sea horse, in a tiny, but distinct voice. "these things on the side of my head are fins." "i thought they were ears," said the girl. "so they are. fins and ears at the same time," answered the little sea animal. "also, there are small fins on our backs. of course, we can't swim as the mermaids do, or even as swiftly as fishes; but we manage to get around, thank you." "don't the fishes catch and eat you?" inquired trot, curiously. "sometimes," admitted the sea horse, "and there are many other living things that have a way of destroying us. but here i am, as you see, over six weeks old, and during that time i have escaped every danger. that isn't so bad, is it?" "phoo!" said a starfish lying near, "i'm over three months old. you're a mere baby, sea horse." "i'm not!" cried the sea horse, excitedly. "i'm full-grown, and may live to be as old as you are!" "not if i keep on living," said the starfish, calmly, and trot knew he was correct in his statement. the little girl now noticed several sea spiders creeping around, and drew back because she did not think them very pretty. they were shaped not unlike the starfishes, but had slender legs and big heads with wicked looking eyes sticking out of them. [illustration] "oh, i don't like those things!" said trot, coming closer to her companions. "you don't, eh?" said a big sea spider, in a cross voice. "why do you come around here, then, scaring away my dinner, when you're not wanted?" "it isn't _your_ ocean," replied trot. "no; and it isn't yours," snapped the spider. "but as it's big enough for us both, i'd like you to go away." "so we will," said aquareine, gently, and at once she moved toward the surface of the water. trot and cap'n bill followed, with clia, and the child asked: "what island are we near?" "it has no name," answered the queen, "for it is not inhabited by man, nor has it ever yet been discovered by them. perhaps you will be the first humans to see this island. but it is a barren, rocky place, and only fit for seals and turtles." "are any of them there now?" cap'n bill inquired. "i think so. we will see." trot was astonished to find how near they were to the "top" of the ocean, for they had not ascended through the water very long when suddenly her head popped into the air, and she gave a gasp of surprise to find herself looking at the clear sky for the first time since she had started upon this adventure, by rowing into giant's cave. she floated comfortably in the water, with her head and face just out of it, and began to look around her. cap'n bill was at her side, and so were the two mermaids. the day was fair and the surface of the sea, which stretched far away as the eye could reach, rippled under a gentle breeze. they had risen almost at the edge of a small, rocky islet, high in the middle, but gradually slanting down to the water. no trees, or bushes, or grass grew anywhere about; only rocks, gray and bleak, were to be seen. trot scarcely noticed this at first, however, for the island seemed covered with groups of forms, some still and some moving, which the old sailor promptly recognized as seals. many were lying asleep or sunning themselves; others crept awkwardly around, using their strong fins as legs or "paddles," and caring little if they disturbed the slumbers of the others. once in a while, one of those crowded out of place would give a loud and angry bark, which awakened others and set them to barking likewise. baby seals were there in great numbers, and were more active and playful than their elders. it was really wonderful how they could scramble around on the land, and trot laughed more than once at their antics. at the edge of the water lay many huge turtles, some as big around as a wagon wheel and others much smaller in size. "the big ones are very old," said the queen, seeing trot's eyes fixed on the turtles. "how old?" asked the child. "hundreds of years, i think. they live to a great age, for nothing can harm them when they withdraw their legs and heads into their thick shells. we use some of the turtles for food, but prefer the younger ones. men also fish for turtles and eat them, but, of course, no men ever come to this out-of-the-way place in the ocean, so the inhabitants of this little island know they are perfectly safe." in the center of the island rose high cliffs, on top of which were to be seen great flocks of sea-gulls, some whirling in the air, while others were perched upon the points of rock. "what do the birds find to eat?" asked cap'n bill. "they often feed upon seals which die of accident or old age, and they are expert fishermen," explained queen aquareine. "curiously enough, the seals also feed upon these birds, which they are often able to catch in their strong jaws, when the gulls venture too near. and then, the seals frequently rob the nests of eggs, of which they are very fond." "i'd like a few gulls' eggs now," remarked a big seal that lay near them upon the shore. trot had thought him sound asleep, but now he opened his eyes to blink lazily at the group in the water. "good morning," said the queen. "aren't you chief muffruff?" "i am," answered the old seal. "and you are aquareine, the mermaid queen. you see i remember you, although you haven't been here for years. and isn't that princess clia? to be sure! but the other mermaids are strangers to me; especially the bald-headed one." "i'm not a mermaid," asserted cap'n bill. "i'm a sailor, jes' a-visitin' the mermaids." "our friends are earth dwellers," explained the queen. "that's odd," said muffruff. "i can't remember that any earth dwellers ever came this way before. i never travel far, you see, for i'm chief of this disorderly family of seals that live on this island--on it and off it, that is." "you're a poor chief," said a big turtle lying beside the seal. "if your people are disorderly it is your own fault." muffruff gave a chuckling laugh. then, with a movement quick as lightning, he pushed his head under the shell of the turtle and gave it a sudden jerk. the huge turtle was tossed up on edge and then turned flat on its back, where its short legs struggled vainly to right its overturned body. [illustration] "there!" snorted the seal, contemptuously. "perhaps you'll dare insult me again in the presence of visitors, you old mud-wallower!" seeing the plight of the turtle, several young seals came laughingly wabbling to the spot, and as they approached the helpless creature drew in his legs and head, and closed his two shells tightly together. the seals bumped against the turtle and gave it a push that sent it sliding down the beach like a toboggan, and a minute later it splashed into the water and sank out of sight. but that was just what the creature wanted. on shore the upset turtle was quite helpless; but the mischievous seals saved him. for as soon as he touched the water he was able to turn and right himself, which he promptly did. then he raised his head above the water and asked: "is it peace, or war, muffruff?" "whichever you like," answered the seal, indifferently. perhaps the turtle was angry, for it ran on shore with remarkable swiftness, uttering a shrill cry as it advanced. at once all the other turtles awoke to life, and with upraised heads joined their comrade in the rush for the seals. most of chief muffruff's band scrambled hastily down the rocks and plunged into the water of the sea, without waiting for the turtles to reach them; but the chief himself was slow in escaping. it may be he was ashamed to run while the mermaids were watching, but if this was so he made a great mistake. the turtles snapped at his fins and tail, and began biting round chunks out of them, so that chief muffruff screamed with pain and anger, and floundered into the water as fast as he could go. the vengeful turtles were certainly the victors, and now held undisputed possession of the island. trot laughed joyously at the incident, not feeling a bit sorry for the old seal who had foolishly begun the battle. even the gentle queen smiled as she said: "these quarrels between the turtles and seals are very frequent, but they are soon ended. an hour from now they will all be lying asleep together, just as we found them; but we will not wait for that. let us go." she sank slowly beneath the water again, and the others followed after her. [illustration] [illustration: _chap. 11._ zog the terrible and his sea devils] "the sun must be going under a cloud," said trot, looking ahead. they had descended far into the ocean depths again--further, the girl thought, than they had ever been before. "no," the queen answered, after a glance ahead of them; "that is a cuttlefish, and he is dyeing the sea around him with ink, so that he can hide from us. let us turn a little to the left, for we could see nothing at all in that inky water." following her advice they made a broad curve to the left, and at once the water began to darken in that direction, too. "why, there's another of 'em," said cap'n bill, as the little party came to a sudden halt. "so there is," returned the queen, and trot thought there was a little quiver of anxiety in her voice. "we must go far to the right to escape the ink." so they again started, this time almost at a right angle to their former course, and the little girl inquired: "how can the cuttlefish color the water so very black?" "they carry big sacks in front of them, where they conceal the ink," princess clia answered. "whenever they choose, the cuttlefish are able to press out this ink, and it colors the water for a great space around them." the direction in which they were now swimming was taking them far out of their way. aquareine did not wish to travel very far to the right, so, when she thought they had gone far enough to escape the inky water, she turned to lead her party toward the left--the direction in which she did wish to go. at once, another cloud of ink stained the water, and drove them to the right again. "is anything wrong, ma'am?" asked cap'n bill, seeing a frown gather upon the queen's lovely face. "i hope not," she said. "but i must warn you that these cuttlefish are the servants of the terrible sea devils, and from the way they are acting they seem determined to drive us toward the devil caves, which i wished to avoid." this admission on the part of their powerful protector, the fairy mermaid, sent a chill to the hearts of the earth people. neither spoke for a time, but finally cap'n bill asked in a timid voice: "hadn't we better go back, ma'am?" "yes," decided aquareine, after a moment's thought. "i think it will be wise to retreat. the sea devils are evidently aware of our movements and wish to annoy us. for my part i have no fear of them, but i do not care to have you meet such creatures." but when they turned around to abandon their journey another inky cloud was to be seen behind them. they really had no choice but to swim in the only streak of clear water they could find, and the mermaids well knew this would lead them nearer and nearer to the caves of their enemies. but aquareine led the way, moving very slowly, and the others followed her. in every other direction they were hemmed in by the black waters, and they did not dare to halt, because the inky fluid crept swiftly up behind them and drove them on. the queen and the princess had now become silent and grave. they swam on either side of their guests, as if to better protect them. "don't look up," whispered clia, pressing close to the little girl's side. "why not?" asked trot; and then she did exactly what she had been told not to do. she lifted her head and saw stretched over them a network of scrawny crimson arms, interlaced like the branches of trees in winter, when the leaves have fallen and left them bare. cap'n bill gave a start and muttered "land sakes!" for he, too, had gazed upward and seen the crimson network of limbs. "are these the sea devils?" asked the child, more curious than frightened. "yes, dear," replied the queen. "but i advise you to pay no attention to them. remember, they cannot touch us." in order to avoid the threatening arms overhead, which followed them as they swam, our friends kept near to the bottom of the sea, which was here thickly covered with rough and jagged rocks. the inky water had now been left far behind, but, when trot looked over her shoulder, she shuddered to find a great crimson monster following closely after them, with a dozen long, snaky feelers stretched out as if to grab anyone that lagged behind. and there, at the side of princess clia, was another sea devil, leering silently with his cruel, bulging eyes at the pretty mermaid. beside the queen swam still another of their enemies. indeed, the sea devils had crept upon them and surrounded them everywhere except at the front, and trot began to feel nervous and worried for the first time. cap'n bill kept mumbling queer words under his breath, for he had a way of talking to himself when anything "upsot him," as he would quaintly remark. trot always knew he was disturbed or in trouble when he began to "growl." the only way now open was straight ahead. they swam slowly, yet fast enough to keep a safe distance from the dreadful creature behind them. "i'm afraid they are driving us into a trap," whispered the queen, softly; "but, whatever happens, do not lose courage, earth friends. clia and i are here to protect you, and our fairy powers are sufficient to keep you from all harm." "oh, i don't mind so very much," declared trot, calmly. "it's like the fairy adventures in storybooks, and i've often thought i'd like that kind of adventures, 'cause the story always turns out the right way." cap'n bill growled something just then, but the only words trot could make out were, "never lived to tell the tale." "oh, pshaw, cap'n," she said; "we may be in danger, right enough, an' to be honest i don't like the looks of these sea devils at all. but, i'm sure it's no _killing_ matter, for we've got the fairy circles all around us." "ha, ha!" laughed the monster beside her. "_we_ know all about the fairy circles, don't we, migg?" "ho, ho!" laughed the monster on the other side; "we do, slibb, my boy; and we don't think much of fairy circles, either!" "they have foiled our enemies many a time," declared the princess, with much dignity. "ha, ha!" laughed one; "that's why we're here now." "ho, ho!" laughed the other; "we've learned a trick or two, and we've got you fast this time." then all the sea devils--those above and the one behind, and the two on the sides--laughed all together, and their laughter was so horrible that it made even trot shudder. [illustration] but, now the queen stopped short, and the others stopped with her. "i will go no farther," she said, firmly, not caring if the creatures overheard her. "it is evident that these monsters are trying to drive us into some secret place, and it is well-known that they are in league with zog the terrible, whom they serve because they are as wicked as he is. we must be somewhere near the hidden castle of zog, so i prefer to stay here rather than be driven into some place far more dangerous. as for the sea devils, they are powerless to injure us in any way. not one of the thousand arms about us can possibly touch our bodies." the only reply to this defiant speech was another burst of horrible laughter; and now there suddenly appeared before them still another of the monsters, which thus completely hemmed them in. then the creatures began interlacing their long arms--or "feelers"--until they formed a perfect cage around the prisoners, not an opening being left that was large enough for one of them to escape through. the mermaids and the girl and sailorman kept huddled close together, for, although they might be walled in by the sea devils, their captors could not touch them because of the protecting magic circles. all at once trot exclaimed: "why, we must be moving!" this was startling news, but by watching the flow of the water past them they saw that the little girl was right. the sea devils were swimming, all together, and as the cage they were in moved forward our friends were carried with it. queen aquareine had a stern look upon her beautiful face. cap'n bill guessed from this look that the mermaid was angry, for it seemed much like the look trot's mother wore when they came home late to dinner. but however angry the queen might be, she was unable to help herself or her guests just now, or to escape from the guidance of the dreaded sea devils. the rest of the party had become sober and thoughtful, and in dignified silence they awaited the outcome of this strange adventure. [illustration] [illustration: _chap. 12._ the enchanted island] all at once it grew dark around them. neither cap'n bill nor trot liked this gloom, for it made them nervous not to be able to see their enemies. "we must be near a sea cavern, if not within one," whispered princess clia, and even as she spoke the network of scarlet arms parted before them, leaving an avenue for them to swim out of the cage. there was brighter water ahead, too, so the queen said, without hesitation: "come along, dear friends; but, let us clasp hands and keep close together." they obeyed her commands and swam swiftly out of their prison and into the clear water before them, glad to put a distance between themselves and the loathesome sea devils. the monsters made no attempt to follow them, but they burst into a chorus of harsh laughter which warned our friends that they had not yet accomplished their escape. the four now found themselves in a broad, rocky passage, which was dimly lighted from some unknown source. the walls overhead, below them and at the sides all glistened, as if made of silver, and in places were set small statues of birds, beasts and fishes, occupying niches in the walls and seemingly made from the same glistening material. the queen swam more slowly, now that the sea devils had been left behind, and she looked exceedingly grave and thoughtful. "have you ever been here before?" asked trot. "no, dear," said the queen, with a sigh. "and do you know where we are?" continued the girl. "i can guess," replied aquareine. "there is only one place in all the sea where such a passage as that we are in could exist without my knowledge, and that is in the hidden dominions of zog. if we are indeed in the power of that fearful magician we must summon all our courage to resist him, or we are lost!" "is zog more powerful than the mermaids?" asked trot, anxiously. "i do not know, for we have never before met to measure our strength," answered aquareine. "but if king anko could defeat the magician, as he surely did, then i think i shall be able to do so." "i wish i was sure of it," muttered cap'n bill. absolute silence reigned in the silver passage. no fish were there; not even a sea flower grew to relieve the stern grandeur of this vast corridor. trot began to be impressed with the fact that she was a good way from her home and mother, and she wondered if she would ever get back again to the white cottage on the cliff. here she was, at the bottom of the great ocean, swimming through a big tunnel that had an enchanted castle at one end, and a group of horrible sea devils at the other! in spite of this thought she was not very much afraid. although two fairy mermaids were her companions, she relied, strange to say, more upon her tried and true friend cap'n bill, than upon her newer acquaintances to see her safely out of her present troubles. cap'n bill himself did not feel very confident. "i don't care two cents what becomes o' me," he told princess clia, in a low voice, "but i'm drea'ful worrited over our trot. she's too sweet an' too young to be made an end of in this 'ere fashion." clia smiled at the speech. "i'm sure you will find the little girl's end a good way off," she replied. "trust to our powerful queen, and be sure she will find some means for us all to escape uninjured." [illustration] the light grew brighter as they advanced, until finally they perceived a magnificent archway just ahead of them. aquareine hesitated a moment whether to go on, or turn back; but there was no escaping the sea devils behind them, and she decided the best way out of their difficulties was to bravely face the unknown zog, and rely upon her fairy powers to prevent his doing any mischief to herself or her friends. so she led the way, and together they approached the archway and passed through it. they now found themselves in a vast cavern, so great in extent that the dome overhead looked like the sky when seen from the earth. in the center of this immense sea cavern rose the towers of a splendid castle, all built of coral inlaid with silver, and having windows of clear glass. surrounding the castle were beds of beautiful sea flowers, many being in full bloom, and these were laid out with great care in artistic designs. goldfish and silverfish darted here and there among the foliage, and the whole scene was so pretty and peaceful that trot began to doubt there was any danger lurking in such a lovely place. as they paused to look around them, a brilliantly colored gregfish approached and gazed at them curiously with his big, saucer-like eyes. "so zog has got you at last!" he said in a pitying tone. "how foolish you were to swim into that part of the sea where he is powerful." "the sea devils made us," explained clia. "well, i'm sorry for you, i'm sure," remarked the greg, and with a flash of his tail he disappeared among the sea foliage. "let us go to the castle," said the queen, in a determined voice. "we may as well boldly defy our fate as to wait until zog seeks us out." so they swam to the entrance of the castle. the doors stood wide open and the interior seemed as well lighted as the cavern itself, although none of them could discover from whence the light came. at each side of the entrance lay a fish such as they had never seen before. it was flat as a doormat, and seemed to cling fast to the coral floor. upon its back were quills, like those of a porcupine, all pointed and sharp. from the center of the fish arose a head shaped like a round ball, with a circle of piercing, bead-like eyes set in it. these strange guardians of the entrance might be able to talk and to tell what their numerous eyes saw, yet they remained silent and watchful. even aquareine gazed upon them curiously, and she gave a little shudder as she did so. inside the entrance was a domed hall, with a flight of stairs leading to an upper balcony. around the hall were several doorways hung with curtains made of woven seaweeds. chairs and benches stood against the wall, and these astonished the visitors because neither stairs nor chairs seemed useful in a kingdom where every living thing was supposed to swim and have a fish's tail. in queen aquareine's palaces benches for reclining were used, and stairs were wholly unnecessary; but in the palace of zog the furniture and fittings were much like those of a house upon earth, and, except that every space was here filled with water instead of air, trot and cap'n bill might have imagined themselves in a handsome earthly castle. the little group paused half fearfully in the hall, yet so far, there was surely nothing to be afraid of. they were wondering what to do next, when the curtains of an archway were pushed aside and a boy entered. to trot's astonishment he had legs, and walked upon them naturally and with perfect ease. he was a delicate, frail looking little fellow, dressed in a black velvet suit with knee breeches. the bows at his throat and knees were of colored seaweeds, woven into broad ribbons. his hair was yellow, and banged across his forehead. his eyes were large and dark, with a pleasant, merry sparkle in them. around his neck he wore a high ruff, but in spite of this trot could see that below his plump cheeks were several scarlet-edged slits that looked like the gills of fishes, for they gently opened and closed as the boy breathed in the water by which he was surrounded. these gills did not greatly mar the lad's delicate beauty, and he spread out his arms and bowed low and gracefully in greeting. "hello," said trot. "why, i'd like to," replied the boy, with a laugh, "but, being a mere slave, it isn't proper for me to hello. but it's good to see earth people again, and i'm glad you're here." "we're not glad," observed the girl; "we're afraid." "you'll get over that," declared the boy, smilingly. "people lose a lot of time being afraid. once i was myself afraid, but i found it was no fun, so i gave it up." "why were we brought here?" inquired queen aquareine, gently. "i can't say, madam, being a mere slave," replied the boy. "but, you have reminded me of my errand. i am sent to inform you all that zog the forsaken, who hates all the world and is hated by all the world, commands your presence in his den." "do you hate zog, too?" asked trot. "oh, no," answered the boy. "people lose a lot of time in hating others, and there's no fun in it at all. zog may be hateful, but i'm not going to waste time hating him. you may do so, if you like." "you are a queer child," remarked the mermaid queen, looking at him attentively. "will you tell us who you are?" "once, i was prince sacho of sacharhineolaland, which is a sweet country, but hard to pronounce," he answered. "but in this domain i have but one title and one name, and that is 'slave.'" "how came you to be zog's slave?" asked clia. "the funniest adventure you ever heard of," asserted the boy, with eager pride. "i sailed in a ship that went to pieces in a storm. all on board were drowned but me--and i came mighty near it, to tell the truth. i went down deep, deep into the sea, and at the bottom was zog, watching the people drown. i tumbled on his head and he grabbed and saved me, saying i would make a useful slave. by his magic power he made me able to live under water, as the fishes live, and he brought me to this castle and taught me to wait upon him, as his other slaves do." "isn't it a dreadful, lonely life?" asked trot. "no, indeed," said sacho; "we haven't any time to be lonely, and the dreadful things zog does are very exciting and amusing, i assure you. he keeps us guessing every minute, and that makes the life here interesting. things were getting a bit slow an hour ago, but now that you are here i'm in hopes we will all be kept busy and amused for some time." "are there many others in the castle besides you and zog?" asked aquareine. "dozens of us. perhaps hundreds. i've never counted them," said the boy. "but zog is the only master; all the rest of us are in the same class, so there is no jealousy among the slaves." "what is zog like?" cap'n bill questioned. at this the boy laughed, and the laugh was full of mischief. [illustration] "if i could tell you what zog is like it would take me a year," was the reply. "but i can't tell you. every one has a different idea of what he's like, and soon you will see him yourselves." "are you fond of him?" asked trot. "if i said yes, i'd get a good whipping," declared sacho. "i am commanded to hate zog, and being a good servant i try to obey. if anyone dared to like zog i am sure he'd be instantly fed to the turtles; so i advise you not to like him." "oh, we won't," promised trot. "but we're keeping the master waiting, and that is also a dangerous thing to do," continued the boy. "if we don't hurry up zog will begin to smile, and when he smiles there is trouble brewing." the queen sighed. "lead the way, sacho," she said. "we will follow." the boy bowed again, and going to an archway held aside the curtains for them. they first swam into a small anteroom which led into a long corridor, at the end of which was another curtained arch. through this sacho also guided them, and now they found themselves in a cleverly constructed maze. every few feet were twists and turns, and sharp corners, and sometimes the passage would be wide, and again so narrow that they could just squeeze through in single file. "seems like we're gettin' further into the trap," growled cap'n bill. "we couldn't find our way out o' here to save our lives." "oh, yes we could," replied clia, who was just behind him. "such a maze may indeed puzzle you, but the queen or i could lead you safely through it again, i assure you. zog is not so clever as he thinks himself." the sailor, however, found the maze very bewildering, and so did trot. passages ran in every direction, crossing and recrossing, and it seemed wonderful that the boy sacho knew just which way to go. but he never hesitated an instant. trot looked carefully to see if there were any marks to guide him, but every wall was of plain, polished marble, and every turning looked just like all the others. suddenly sacho stopped short. they were now in a broader passage, but as they gathered around their conductor, they found further advance blocked. solid walls faced them, and here the corridor seemed to end. "enter!" cried a clear voice. "but we can't!" protested trot. "swim straight ahead," whispered the boy, in soft tones. "there is no real barrier before you. your eyes are merely deceived by magic." "ah, i understand," said aquareine, nodding her pretty head. and then she took mayre's hand and swam boldly forward, while cap'n bill followed holding the hand of clia. and behold! the marble wall melted away before them, and they found themselves in a chamber more splendid than even the fairy mermaids had ever seen before. [illustration: _chap. 13._ prisoners _of the_ sea monster] the room in the enchanted castle which zog called his "den," and in which the wicked sea monster passed most of his time, was a perfectly shaped dome of solid gold. the upper part of this dome was thickly set with precious jewels--diamonds, rubies, sapphires and emeralds, which sparkled beautifully through the crystal water. the lower walls were as thickly studded with pearls, all being of perfect shape and color. many of the pearls were larger than any which may be found upon earth, for the sea people know where to find the very best, and hide them away where men cannot discover them. the golden floor was engraved with designs of rare beauty, depicting not only sea life, but many adventures upon land. in the room were several large golden cabinets, the doors of which were closed and locked, and in addition to the cabinets there were tables, chairs and sofas, the latter upholstered with softest sealskins. handsome rugs of exquisitely woven seaweeds were scattered about, the colors of which were artistically blended together. in one corner a fountain of air bubbled up through the water. the entire room was lighted as brilliantly as if exposed to the direct rays of the sun, yet where this light came from our friends could not imagine. no lamp or other similar device was visible anywhere. the strangers at first scarcely glanced at all these beautiful things, for in an easy chair sat zog himself, more wonderful than any other living creature, and as they gazed upon him their eyes seemed fascinated, as if held by a spell. zog's face was the face of a man, except that the tops of his ears were pointed like horns and he had small horns instead of eyebrows, and a horn on the end of his chin. in spite of these deformities the expression of the face was not unpleasant, or repulsive. his hair was carefully parted and brushed, and his mouth and nose were not only perfect in shape, but quite handsome. only the eyes betrayed zog and made him terrible to all beholders. they seemed like coals of glowing fire, and sparkled so fiercely that no one ever cared to meet their gaze for more than an instant. perhaps the monster realized this, for he usually drooped his long lashes over his fiery eyes to shut out their glare. zog had two well shaped legs which ended in the hoofs of beasts, instead of feet, and these hoofs were shod with gold. his body was a shapeless mass covered with richly embroidered raiment, over which a great robe of cloth of gold fell in many folds. this robe was intended to hide the magician's body from view, but trot noticed that the cloth moved constantly, in little ripples, as if what lay underneath would not keep still. the best features of which zog could boast were his arms and hands, the latter being as well formed, as delicate and white as those of a well-bred woman. when he spoke, his voice sounded sweet and clear, and its tones were very gentle. he had given them a few moments to stare at him, for he was examining them, in turn, with considerable curiosity. "well," said he, "do you not find me the most hateful creature you have ever beheld?" the queen refrained from answering, but trot said, promptly: "we do. nothing could be more horrider or more disgustin' than you are, it seems to me." "very good; very good, indeed," declared the monster, lifting his lashes to flash his glowing eyes upon her. then he turned toward cap'n bill. "man-fish," he continued, "what do _you_ think of me?" "mighty little," the sailor replied. "you orter be 'shamed to ask sech a question, knowin' you look worse ner the devil himself." "very true," answered zog, frowning. he felt that he had received a high compliment, and the frown showed he was pleased with cap'n bill. but now queen aquareine advanced to a position in front of their captor and said: "tell me, zog; why have you trapped us and brought us here?" "to destroy you," was the quick answer, and the magician turned for an instant to flash his eyes upon the beautiful mermaid. "for two hundred years i have been awaiting a chance to get within my power some friend of anko the sea serpent--of anko, whom i hate!" he added, smiling sweetly. "when you left your palace to-day my swift spies warned me, and so i sent the sea devils to capture you. often have they tried to do this before, but always failed. to-day, acting by my command, they tricked you, and by surrounding you, forced you to the entrance of my enchanted castle. the result is a fine capture of important personages. i have now in my power the queen and princess of the fairy mermaids, as well as two wandering earth people, and i assure you i shall take great enjoyment in destroying you utterly." "you are a coward," declared the queen, proudly. "you dared not meet us in the open sea." "no; i dare not leave this castle," zog admitted, still smiling. "but here, in my own domain, my power is supreme. nothing can interfere with my vengeance." "that remains to be seen," said aquareine, firmly meeting the gaze of the terrible eyes. "of course," he answered, nodding his head with a graceful movement. "you will try to thwart me and escape. you will pit your fairy power against my powers of magic. this will give me great pleasure, for the more you struggle the greater will be my revenge." "but why should you seek revenge upon us?" asked clia. "we have never harmed you." "that is true," replied zog. "i bear you no personal ill will. but you are friends of my great enemy, king anko, and it will annoy him very much when he finds that you have been destroyed by me. i cannot hurt the rascally old sea serpent himself, but through you i can make him feel my vengeance." "the mermaids have existed thousands of years," said the queen, in a tone of pride. "do you imagine the despised and conquered zog has power to destroy them?" "i do not know," was the quiet answer. "it will be interesting to discover which is the more powerful." "i challenge you to begin the test at once, vile magician!" exclaimed aquareine. "there is no hurry, fair queen," answered zog, in his softest tones. "i have been so many years in accomplishing your capture that it is foolish to act hastily now. besides, i am lonely. here, in my forced retirement, i see only those uninteresting earth mortals whom i have made my slaves, for all sea dwellers are forbidden to serve me save the sea devils, and they dare not enter my castle. i have saved many mortals from drowning and brought them here to people my castle, but i do not love mortals. two lovely mermaids are much more interesting, and before i allow you to perish i shall have much amusement in witnessing your despair, and your struggles to escape. you are now my prisoners. by slow degrees i shall wear out your fairy powers and break your hearts, as well as the hearts of these earth dwellers who have no magic powers, and i think it will be a long time before i finally permit you to die." "that's all right," said trot, cheerfully. "the longer i live the better i'll be satisfied." "that's how i feel about it," added cap'n bill. "don't get in a hurry to kill us, zog; it'll be such a wear an' tear on your nerves. jes' take it easy an' let us live as long as we can." "don't you care to die?" asked the magician. "it's a thing i never longed for," the sailor replied. "you see, we had no business to go on a trip with the mermaids, to begin with. i've allus heard tell that mermaids is dangerous, an' no one as met 'em ever lived to tell the tale. eh, trot?" "that's what you said, cap'n bill." "so, i guess we're done for, one way 'r 'nother; an' it don't matter much which. but trot's a good child, an' mighty young an' tender. it don't seem like her time has come to die. i'd like to have her sent safe home to her mother. so i've got this 'ere propersition to make, zog: if your magic could make _me_ die twice, or even _three_ times fer good measure, why you go ahead an' do it an' i won't complain. all i ask is fer you to send this little girl safe back to dry land again." "don't you do it, zog!" cried trot, indignantly, and turning to cap'n bill she added: "i'm not goin' to leave you down here in all this mess, cap'n, and don't you think it. if one of us gets out of the muddle we're in, we'll both get out; so don't you make any bargains with zog to die twice." zog listened to this conversation very carefully. [illustration: make me die twice] "the dying does not amount to much," he said; "it is the thinking about it that hurts you mortals most. i've watched many a shipwreck at sea, and the people would howl and scream for hours before the ship broke up. their terror was very enjoyable. but when the end came they all drowned as peacefully as if they were going to sleep, so it didn't amuse me at all." "i'm not worrying," said trot. "ner me," said cap'n bill. "you'll find we can take what comes jes' as easy as anybody." "i do not expect to get much fun from you poor mortals," said zog, carelessly. "you are merely a side show to my circus--a sort of dessert to my feast of vengeance. when the time comes i can find a hundred ways to kill you. my most interesting prisoners are these pretty mermaids, who claim that none of their race has ever yet died, or been destroyed. the first mermaid ever created is living yet--and i am told she is none other than queen aquareine. so i have a pretty problem before me, to invent some way to destroy the mermaids, or put them out of existence. and it will require some thought." "also, it will require some power you do not possess," suggested the queen. "that may be," replied zog, softly; "but i am going to experiment, and i believe i shall be able to cause you a lot of pain and sorrow before i finally make an end of you. i have not lived twenty-seven thousand years, aquareine, without getting a certain amount of wisdom, and i am more powerful than you suspect." "you are a monster and a wicked magician," said the mermaid queen. "i am," agreed zog; "but i cannot help it. i was created part man, part bird, part fish, part beast and part reptile, and such a monstrosity could not be otherwise than wicked. everybody hates me, and i hate everybody." "why don't you kill yourself?" asked trot. "i've tried that, and failed," he answered. "only one being in the world has power to destroy me, and that is king anko, the sea serpent." "then you'd better let him do it," advised the little girl. "no; much as i long to die, i cannot allow king anko the pleasure of killing me. he has always been my worst enemy, and it would be such a joy to him to kill me that i really cannot allow him. indeed, i have always hoped to kill anko. i have now been three thousand six hundred and forty-two years, eleven months and nine days figuring out a plan to destroy old anko, and as yet i have not discovered a way." "i'd give it up, if i were you," advised trot. "don't you think you could get some fun out of trying to be good?" "no!" cried zog, and his voice was not so soft as before. "listen, aquareine: you and your attendants shall be prisoners in this castle until i can manage to stop you from living. rooms will be placed at your disposal, and i wish you to go to them at once, as i am tired of looking at you." "you're no more tired than we are," remarked trot. "it's lucky you can't see yourself, zog." [illustration] he turned his glowing eyes full upon her. "the worst of my queer body i keep concealed," he said. "if ever you see it, you will scream with terror." he touched a bell beside him and the girl was surprised to find how clearly its tones rang out through the water. in an instant the boy sacho appeared and bowed low before his dreadful master. "take the mermaids and the child to the rose chamber," commanded zog; "and take the old man-fish to the peony room." sacho turned to obey. "are the outer passages well guarded?" asked the monster. "yes; as you have commanded," said the boy. "then you may allow the prisoners to roam at will throughout the castle. now, go!" the prisoners followed sacho from the room, glad to get away. the presence of this evil being had grown oppressive to them, and zog had himself seemed ill at ease during the last few minutes. the robe so closely wound around his body moved jerkily, as if something beneath disturbed it, and at such times zog shifted nervously in his seat. sacho's thin little legs trotted through the water, and led the way into a different passage from the one by which they had entered. they swam slowly after him and breathed easier when they had left the golden domed chamber, where their wicked enemy sat enthroned. "well, how do you like him?" asked sacho, with a laugh. "we hate him!" declared trot, emphatically. "of course you do," replied sacho. "but, you're wasting time hating anything. it doesn't do you any good, or him any harm. can you sing?" "a little," said trot; "but i don't feel like singing now." [illustration] "you're wrong about that," the boy asserted. "anything that keeps you from singing is foolishness, unless it's laughter. laughter, joy and song are the only good things in the world." trot did not answer this queer speech, for just then they came to a flight of stairs, and sacho climbed up them, while the others swam. and now they were in a lofty, broad corridor having many doors hung with seaweed draperies. at one of these doorways sacho stopped and said: "here is the rose chamber, where the master commands you to live until you die. you may wander anywhere in the castle as you please; to leave it is impossible. whenever you return to the rose chamber you will know it by this design of roses, sewn in pearls upon the hangings. the peony room, where the man-fish is to live, is the next one farther on." "thank you," replied queen aquareine. "are we to be fed?" "meals will be served in your rooms. if you desire anything, ring the bell and some of the slaves will be sure to answer it. i am mostly in attendance upon my master, but whenever i am at liberty i will look after your comfort myself." again they thanked the strange boy, and he turned and left them. they could hear him whistle and sing as he returned along the passage. then princess clia parted the curtains that her queen and companions might enter the rose chamber. [illustration: _chap. 14._ cap'n joe _and_ cap'n bill] the rooms zog had given his prisoners were as handsome as all other parts of this strange, enchanted castle. gold was used plentifully in the decorations, and in the rose chamber occupied by the mermaids and trot, golden roses formed a border around the entire room. the sea maidens had evidently been expected, for the magician had provided couches for them to recline upon, similar to the ones used in the mermaid palaces. the frames were of mother-of-pearl and the cushions of soft, white sponges. in the room were toilet tables, mirrors, ornaments and many articles used by earth people, which they afterward learned had been plundered by zog from sunken ships and brought to his castle by his allies, the sea devils. while the mermaids were examining and admiring their room, cap'n bill went to the peony room to see what it was like, and found his quarters very cosy and interesting. there were pictures on the walls--portraits of grave-looking porpoises, bashful seals, and smug and smiling walruses. some of the wall panels were formed of mirrors and reflected clearly the interior of the room. around the ceiling was a frieze of imitation peonies in silver, and the furniture was peony-shaped, the broad leaves being bent to form seats and couches. beside a pretty dressing table hung a bell cord, with a tassel at the end. cap'n bill did not know it was a bell cord, so he pulled it to see what would happen and was puzzled to find that nothing seemed to happen at all, the bell being too far away for him to hear it. then he began looking at the treasures contained in this royal apartment, and was much pleased with a golden statue of a mermaid, that resembled princess clia in feature. a silver flower vase upon a stand contained a bouquet of gorgeous peonies, "as nat'ral as life," said cap'n bill, although he saw plainly that they must be made of metal. trot came in just then to see how her dear friend was located. she entered from the doorway that connected the two rooms, and said: "isn't it pretty, cap'n? and who'd ever think that awful creature zog owned such a splendid castle, and kept his prisoners in such lovely rooms?" "i once heard tell," said the sailor, "of a foreign people that sacrificed human bein's to please their pagan gods; an' before they killed 'em outright they stuffed the victims full o' good things to eat, an' dressed 'em in pretty clothes, an' treated 'em like princes. that's why i don't take much comfort in our fine surroundin's, trot. this zog is a pagan, if ever there was one, an' he don't mean us any good, you may depend on't." "no," replied trot, soberly; "i'm sure he doesn't expect us to be happy here. but, i'm going to fool him and have just as good a time as i can." as she spoke they both turned around--an easy thing to do with a single flop of their flexible tails--and cap'n bill uttered a cry of surprise. just across the room stood a perfect duplicate of himself. the round head, with its bald top and scraggly whiskers, the sailor cap and shirt, the wide pantaloons--even the wooden leg--each and every one were exact copies of those owned by cap'n bill. even the expression in the light blue eyes was the same, and it is no wonder the old sailor stared at his "double" in amazement. but the next minute he laughed, and said: "why, trot, it's _me_ reflected in a mirror. but, at first, i thought it was some one else." trot was staring, too. "look, cap'n!" she whispered; "look at the wooden leg." "well, it's _my_ wooden leg, ain't it?" he inquired. "if it is, it can't be a reflection in a mirror," she argued, "for _you_ haven't got a wooden leg. you've got a fish's tail." the old sailor was so startled by this truth that he gave a great flop with his tail that upset his balance, and made him keel a somersault in the water before he got right side up again. then he found the other sailorman laughing at him, and was horrified to find the "reflection" advancing toward them, by stumping along on its wooden leg. "keep away! git out, there!" yelled cap'n bill. "you're a ghost--the ghost o' me that once was--an' i can't bear the sight o' you. git out!" "did you ring jes' to tell me to git out?" asked the other, in a mild voice. "i--i didn't ring," declared cap'n bill. "you did; you pulled that bell cord," said the one-legged. "oh; did pullin' that thing ring a bell?" inquired the cap'n, a little ashamed of his ignorance and reassured by hearing the "ghost" talk. "it surely did," was the reply; "and sacho told me to answer your bell an' look after you. so i'm a-lookin' after you." "i wish you wouldn't," protested cap'n bill. "i've no use fer--fer--ghostses, anyhow." [illustration: you're a ghost!] the strange sailor began to chuckle at hearing this, and his chuckle was just like cap'n bill's chuckle--so full of merry humor that it usually made every one laugh with him. "who are you?" asked trot, who was very curious and much surprised. "i'm cap'n joe," was the reply. "cap'n joe weedles, formerly o' the brig 'gladsome' an' now a slave o' zog at the bottom o' the sea." "j--j--joe wee--weedles!" gasped cap'n bill, amazed; "joe weedles o' the 'gladsome'! why, dash my eyes, mate, you must be my brother!" "are _you_ bill weedles?" asked the other. and then he added: "but, no; you can't be. bill wasn't no merman. he were a human critter, like myself." "that's what _i_ am," said cap'n bill, hastily; "i'm a human critter, too. i've jes' borrered this fishtail to swim with while i'm visitin' the mermaids." "well, well," said cap'n joe, in astonishment; "who'd 'a' thought it! an' who'd ever 'a' thought as i'd find my long lost brother in zog's enchanted castle, full fifty fathoms deep down in the wet, wet water!" "why, as fer that," replied cap'n bill, "it's _you_ as is the long lost brother, not me. you an' your ship disappeared many a year ago, an' ain't never been heard of since; while, as fer me, i'm livin' on earth yet." "you don't look it, to all appearances," remarked cap'n joe, in a reflective tone of voice. "but i'll agree it's many a year since i saw the top o' the water, an' i'm not expectin' to ever tramp on dry land again." "are you dead, or drownded, or what?" asked cap'n bill. "neither one nor t'other," was the answer. "but zog gave me gills, so's i could live in the water like fishes do, an' if i got on land i couldn't breathe air any more 'n a fish out o' water can. so i guess as long as i live i'll hev to stay down here." "do you like it?" asked trot. "oh, i don't objec' much," said cap'n joe. "there ain't much excitement here, fer we don't catch a flock o' mermaids ev'ry day; but the work is easy an' the rations fair. i might 'a' been worse off, you know, for when my brig was wrecked i'd 'a' gone to davy jones's locker if zog hadn't happened to find me an' made me a fish." "you don't look as much like a fish as cap'n bill does," observed trot. "p'raps not," said cap'n joe; "but i notice bill ain't got any gills, an' breathes like you an' the mermaids does. when he gets back to land he'll have his two legs again, an' live in comfort breathin' air." "i won't have two legs," asserted cap'n bill, "for when i'm on earth i'm fitted with one wooden leg, jes' the same as you are, joe." "oh; i hadn't heard o' that, bill; but i'm not surprised," replied brother joe. "many a sailor gets to wear a wooden leg, in time. mine's hick'ry." "so's mine," said cap'n bill, with an air of pride. "i'm glad i've run across you, joe, for i often wondered what had become of you. seems too bad, though, to have you spend all your life under water." "what's the odds?" asked cap'n joe. "i never could keep away from the water since i was a boy, an' there's more dangers to be met floatin' on it than there is soakin' in it. an' one other thing pleases me when i think on it: i'm parted from my wife--a mighty good woman with a tongue like a two-edge sword--an' my pore widder'll get the insurance money an' live happy. as fer me, bill, i'm a good deal happier than i was when she kep' scoldin' me from mornin' to night every minute i was home." "is zog a kind master?" asked trot. "i can't say he's kind," replied cap'n joe, "for he's as near a devil as any livin' critter _can_ be. he grumbles an' growls in his soft voice all day, an' hates himself an' everybody else. but i don't see much of him. there's so many of us slaves here that zog don't pay much attention to us, an' we have a pretty good time when the ol' magician is shut up in his den, as he mostly is." "could you help us to escape?" asked the child. "why, i don't know how," admitted cap'n joe. "there's magic all around us, and we slaves are never allowed to leave this great cave. i'll do what i can, o' course; but sacho is the boy to help you, if anyone can. that little chap knows a heap, i can tell you. so now, if nothin' more's wanted, i must get back to work." "what work do you do?" cap'n bill asked. "i sew buttons on zog's clothes. every time he gets mad he busts his buttons off, an' i have to sew 'em on again. as he's mad most o' the time, it keeps me busy." "i'll see you again, won't i, joe?" said cap'n bill. "no reason why you shouldn't--if you manage to keep alive," said cap'n joe. "but you mustn't forget, bill, that zog has his grip on you, an' i've never known anything to escape him yet." saying this the old sailor began to stump toward the door, but tripped his foot against his wooden leg and gave a swift dive forward. he would have fallen flat had he not grabbed the drapery at the doorway, and saved himself by holding fast to it with both hands. even then he rolled and twisted so awkwardly before he could get upon his legs that trot had to laugh outright at his antics. "this hick'ry leg," said cap'n joe, "is so blamed light that it always wants to float. agga-groo, the goldworker, has promised me a gold leg, that will stay down; but he never has time to make it. you're mighty lucky, bill, to have a merman's tail, instead o' legs." [illustration] "i guess i am, joe," replied bill; "for in such a wet country the fishes have the best of it. but i ain't sure i'd like this sort o' thing always." "think o' the money you'd make in a side show," said cap'n joe, with his funny chuckling laugh. then he pounded his wooden leg against the hard floor, and managed to hobble from the room without more accidents. when he had gone, trot said: "aren't you glad to find your brother again, cap'n bill?" "why, so-so," replied the sailor. "i don't know much about joe, seein' as we haven't met before for many a long year; an' all i remember about our boyhood days is that we fit an' pulled hair most o' the time. but what worries me most is joe's lookin' so much like me myself--wooden leg an' all. don't you think it's rather cheeky an' unbrotherly, trot?" "perhaps he can't help it," suggested the child. "and, anyhow, he'll never be able to live on land again." "no," said cap'n bill, with a sigh, "joe's a fish, now, an' so he ain't likely to be took for me by any of our friends on the earth." [illustration: _chap. 15._ _the_ magic _of the_ mermaids] when trot and cap'n bill entered the rose chamber they found the two mermaids reclining before an air fountain that was sending thousands of tiny bubbles up through the water. "these fountains of air are excellent things," remarked queen aquareine, "for they keep the water fresh and sweet, and that is the more necessary where it is confined by walls, as it is in this castle. but, now let us counsel together, and decide what to do in the emergency that confronts us." "how can we tell what to do, without knowing what's going to happen?" asked trot. "something's sure to happen," said cap'n bill. as if to prove his words a gong suddenly sounded at their door, and in walked a fat little man clothed all in white, including a white apron and white cap. his face was round and jolly, and he had a big mustache that curled up at the ends. "well, well!" said the little man, spreading out his legs and putting his hands on his hips as he stood looking at them; "of all the queer things in the sea, you're the queerest! mermaids, eh?" "don't bunch us that way!" protested cap'n bill. "you are quite wrong," said trot; "i'm a--a girl." "with a fish's tail?" he asked, laughing at her. "that's only just for a while," she said; "while i'm in the water, you know. when i'm at home on the land i walk just as you do--an' so does cap'n bill." "but we haven't any gills," remarked the cap'n, looking closely at the little man's throat; "so i take it we're not as fishy as some others." "if you mean me, i must admit you are right," said the little man, twisting his mustaches. "i'm as near a fish as a man can be. but you see, cap'n, without the gills that make me a fish i could not live under water." "when it comes to that, you've no business to live under water," asserted the sailor. "but i s'pose you're a slave and can't help it." "i'm chief cook for that old horror, zog. and that reminds me, good mermaids--or good people, or good girls and sailors, or whatever you are--that i'm sent here to ask what you'd like to eat." [illustration] "glad to see you, sir," said cap'n bill. "i'm nearly starved, myself." "i had it in mind," said the little man, "to prepare a regular mermaid dinner; but since you're not mermaids--" "oh, two of us are," said the queen, smiling. "i, my good cook, am aquareine, the ruler of the mermaids, and this is the princess clia." "i've often heard of you, your majesty," returned the chief cook, bowing respectfully, "and i must say i've heard only good of you. now that you have unfortunately become my master's prisoners it will give me pleasure to serve you as well as i am able." "we thank you, good sir," said aquareine. "what have you got to eat?" inquired trot. "seems to me i'm hollow way down to my toes--my tail, i mean--and it'll take a lot to fill me up. we haven't eaten a morsel since breakfast, you know." "i think i shall be able to give you almost anything you would like," said the cook. "zog is a wonderful magician, and can procure anything that exists with no more effort than a wiggle of his thumb. but some eatables, you know, are hard to serve under water, because they get so damp that they are soon ruined." "ah, it is different with the mermaids," said princess clia. "yes; all your things are kept dry because they are surrounded by air. i've heard how the mermaids live. but here it is different." "take this ring," said the queen, handing the chief cook a circlet which she drew from her finger. "while it is in your possession the food you prepare will not get wet--or even moist." "i thank your majesty," returned the cook, taking the ring. "my name is tom atto, and i'll do my best to please you. how would you like for luncheon some oysters on the half shell, clam broth, shrimp salad, broiled turtle steak and watermelon?" "that will do very nicely," answered the queen. "do watermelons grow in the sea?" asked trot. "of course; that is why they are called watermelons," replied tom atto. "i think i shall serve you a water ice, in addition to the rest. water ice is an appropriate sea food." "have some water cress with the salad," said cap'n bill. "i'd thought of that," declared the cook. "doesn't my bill of fare make your mouths water?" "hurry up and get it ready," suggested trot. tom atto at once bowed and retired, and when they were alone, cap'n bill said to the queen: "do you think, ma'am, we can manage to escape from zog and his castle?" "i hope we shall find a way," replied aquareine. "the evil powers of magic, which zog controls, may not prove to be as strong as the fairy powers i possess; but of course i cannot be positive until i discover what this wicked magician is able to do." princess clia was looking out of one of the windows. "i think i can see an opening far up in the top of the dome," she said. they all hastened to the windows to look, and although trot and cap'n bill could see nothing but a solid dome above the castle--perhaps, because it was so far away from them--the sharp eyes of aquareine were not to be deceived. "yes," she announced, "there is surely an opening in the center of the great dome. a little thought must convince us that such an opening is bound to exist, for otherwise the water confined within the dome would not be fresh or clear." "then, if we could escape from this castle, we could swim up to the hole in the dome and get free!" exclaimed trot. "why, zog has probably ordered the opening well guarded, as he has all other outlets," responded the queen. "yet it may be worth while for us to make the attempt to get back into the broad ocean this way. the night would be the best time, when all are asleep; and surely it will be quicker to reach the ocean through this hole in the roof, than by means of the long, winding passages by which we entered." [illustration] "but we will have to break out of the castle, in some way," observed cap'n bill. "that will not be difficult," answered aquareine. "it will be no trouble for me to shatter one of these panes of glass, allowing us to pass out and swim straight up to the top of the dome." "let's do it now!" said trot, eagerly. "no, my dear; we must wait for a good opportunity, when we are not watched closely. we do not wish the terrible zog to thwart our plan," answered the queen, gently. presently, two sailor boys entered, bearing trays of food which they placed upon a large table. they were cheery-faced young fellows, with gills at their throats but had laughing eyes, and trot was astonished not to find any of the slaves of zog weeping or miserable. instead, they were as jolly and good-natured as could be, and seemed to like their life under the water. cap'n bill asked one of these boys how many slaves were in the castle, and the youth replied that he would try to count them and let him know. tom atto had, they found, prepared for them an excellent meal, and they ate heartily because they were really hungry. after luncheon cap'n bill smoked his pipe contentedly and they renewed their conversation, planning various ways to outwit zog and make their escape. while thus engaged the gong at the door sounded and sacho entered. "my diabolical master commands you to attend him," said the boy. "when?" asked aquareine. "at once, your majesty." "very well; we will follow you," she said. so they swam down the corridors, following sacho, until they again reached the golden domed room they had formerly visited. here sat zog, just as they had left him, seemingly; but when his prisoners entered the magician arose and stood upon his cloven feet, and then silently walked to a curtained archway. sacho commanded the prisoners to follow, and beyond the archway they found a vast chamber that occupied the center of the castle and was as big as a ballroom. zog, who seemed to walk with much difficulty because his ungainly body swayed back and forth, did not go far beyond the arched entrance. a golden throne was set near by, and in this the monster seated himself. at one side of the throne stood a group of slaves. they were men, women and children. all had broad gold bands clasped around their ankles, as a badge of servitude, and at each throat were the fish's gills that enabled them to breathe, and live under water. yet every face was smiling and serene, even in the presence of their dread master. in parts of the big hall were groups of other slaves. sacho ranged the prisoners in a circle before zog's throne, and slowly the magician turned his eyes, glowing like live coals, upon the four. [illustration] "captives," said he, speaking in his clear, sweet voice, "in our first interview you defied me, and both the mermaid queen and the princess declared they could not die. but if that is a true statement, as i have yet to discover, there are various ways to make you miserable and unhappy, and this i propose to do in order to amuse myself at your expense. you have been brought here to undergo the first trial of strength between us." [illustration: zog's slaves were as jolly as could be] none of the prisoners replied to this speech, so zog turned to one of his slaves and said: "rivivi, bring in the yell-maker." [illustration] rivivi was a big fellow, brown of skin, and with flashing black eyes. he bowed to his master and left the room by an archway covered with heavy draperies. the next moment these curtains were violently pushed aside and a dreadful sea creature swam into the hall. it had a body much like that of a crab, only more round and of a jet-black color. its eyes were bright yellow balls set on the ends of two horns that stuck out of its head. they were cruel looking eyes, too, and seemed able to see every person in the room at the same time. the legs of the yell-maker, however, were the most curious part of the creature. there were six of them, slender and black as coal, and each extended twelve to fifteen feet from its body, when stretched out in a straight line. they were hinged in several places, so they could be folded up, or extended at will. at the ends of these thin legs were immense claws shaped like those of a lobster, and they were real "nippers," of a most dangerous sort. the prisoners knew, as soon as they saw the awful claws, why the thing was called the "yell-maker," and trot gave a little shiver and crept closer to cap'n bill. zog looked with approval upon the creature he had summoned, and said to it: "i give you four victims--the four people with fish's tails. let me hear how loud they can yell." the yell-maker uttered a grunt of pleasure and in a flash stretched out one of its long legs toward the queen's nose, where its powerful claws came together with a loud snap. aquareine did not stir; she only smiled. both zog and the creature that had attacked her seemed much surprised to find she was unhurt. "again!" cried zog; and again the yell-maker's claw shot out and tried to pinch the queen's pretty ear. but the magic of the fairy mermaid was proof against this sea-rascal's strength and swiftness, nor could he touch any part of aquareine, although he tried again and again, roaring with anger like a mad bull. [illustration] trot began to enjoy this performance, and as her merry, childish laughter rang out the yell-maker turned furiously upon the little girl, two of the dreadful claws trying to nip her at the same time. she had no chance to cry out, or jump backward; yet she remained unharmed. for the fairy circle of queen aquareine kept her safe. now cap'n bill was attacked, and princess clia as well. the half-dozen slender legs darted in every direction, like sword thrusts, to reach their victims, and the cruel claws snapped so rapidly that the sound was like the rattling of castanets. but the four prisoners regarded their enemy with smiling composure, and no yell greeted the yell-maker's efforts. "enough!" said zog, softly and sweetly. "you may retire, my poor yell-maker, for with these people you are powerless." the creature paused, and rolled its yellow eyes. "may i nip just one of the slaves, oh, zog?" it asked, pleadingly. "i hate to leave without pleasing your ears with a single yell." "let my slaves alone," was zog's answer. "they are here to serve me, and must not be injured. go, feeble one!" "not so!" cried the queen. "it is a shame, zog, that such an evil thing should exist in our fair sea." with this, she drew her fairy wand from a fold of her gown and waved it toward the creature. at once, the yell-maker sank down unconscious upon the floor; its legs fell apart in many pieces, the claws tumbling in a heap beside the body. then all grew withered and lost shape, becoming a pulpy mass, like gelatine. a few moments later the creature had melted away to nothing at all, forever disappearing from the ocean where it had caused so much horror and pain. [illustration] zog watched this destruction with surprising patience. when it was all over he nodded his head and smiled, and trot noticed that whenever zog smiled his slaves lost their jolly looks and began to tremble. "that is very pretty magic, aquareine," said the monster. "i, myself, learned the trick several thousand years ago, so it does not astonish me. have you fairies nothing that is new to show me?" "we desire only to protect ourselves," replied the queen, with dignity. "then i will give you a chance to do so," said zog. as he spoke the great marble blocks in the ceiling of the room, directly over the heads of the captives, gave way and came crashing down upon them. many tons of weight were in these marble blocks, and the magician had planned to crush his victims where they stood. but the four were still unharmed. the marble, being unable to touch them, was diverted from its course, and when the roar of the great crash had died away zog saw his intended victims standing quietly in their places, and smiling scornfully at his weak attempts to destroy them. [illustration: _chap. 16._ _the_ top of the great dome] cap'n bill's heart was beating pretty fast, but he did not let zog know that. trot was so sure of the protection of the fairy mermaids that she would not allow herself to become frightened. aquareine and clia were as calm as if nothing had happened. "please excuse this little interruption," said zog. "i knew very well the marble blocks could not hurt you. but the play is over for a time. you may now retire to your rooms, and when i again invite you to my presence i shall have found some better way to entertain you." without reply to this threat they turned and followed sacho from the hall, and the boy led them straight back to their own rooms. "zog is making a great mistake," said sacho, with a laugh. "he has no time for vengeance, but the great magician does not know that." "what is he trying to do, anyway?" asked trot. "he does not tell me his secrets, but i've an idea he wants to kill you," replied sacho. "how absurd it is to be plotting such a thing, when he might spend his time in laughing and being jolly! isn't it, now?" "zog is a wicked, wicked, creature!" exclaimed trot. "but he has his good points," replied sacho, cheerfully. "there is no one in all the world so bad that there is nothing good about him." "i'm not so sure of that," said cap'n bill. "what are zog's good points?" "all his slaves were saved from drowning, and he is kind to them," said sacho. "that is merely the kindness of selfishness," said aquareine. "tell me, my lad, is the opening in the great dome outside guarded?" "yes, indeed," was the reply. "you cannot hope to escape in that way, for the prince of the sea devils, who is the largest and fiercest of his race, lies crouched over the opening, night and day, and none can pass his network of curling legs." "is there no avenue that is not guarded?" continued aquareine. "none at all, your majesty. zog is always careful to be well guarded, for he fears the approach of an enemy. what this enemy can be, to terrify the powerful magician, i do not know; but zog is always afraid and never leaves an entrance unguarded. besides, it is an enchanted castle, you know, and none in the ocean can see it unless zog wishes him to. so it will be very hard for his enemy to find him." "we wish to escape," said clia. "will you help us, sacho?" "in any way i can," replied the boy. "if we succeed, we will take you with us," continued the princess. but sacho shook his head, and laughed. "i would indeed like to see you escape zog's vengeance," said he, "for vengeance is wrong and you are too pretty, and too good to be destroyed. but i am happy here, and have no wish to go away, having no other home or friends, other than my fellow slaves." then he left them, and when they were again alone, aquareine said: "we were able to escape zog's attacks to-day, but i am quite sure he will plan more powerful ways to destroy us. he has shown that he knows some clever magic and perhaps i shall not be able to foil it. so it will be well for us to escape to-night, if possible." "can you fight and conquer the big sea devil up in the dome?" asked trot. the queen was thoughtful, and did not reply to this question at once. but cap'n bill said, uneasily: "i can't abide them devil critters, an' i hopes, for my part, we won't be called on to tackle 'em. you see, trot, we're in consider'ble of a bad mess, an' if we ever live to tell the tale--" "why not, cap'n?" asked the child. "we're safe enough, so far. can't you trust to our good friend the queen?" "she don't seem plumb sure o' things herself," remarked the sailor. "the mermaids is all right an' friendly, mate, but this 'ere magic maker--ol' zog--is a bad one, out 'n' out, an' means to kill us, if he can." "but he can't!" cried trot, bravely. "i hope you're right, dear. i wouldn't want to bet on zog's chances, jes' yet, an' at the same time it would be riskin' money to bet on our chances. seems to me it's a case of luck which wins." "don't worry, friend," said the queen. "i have a plan to save us. let us wait patiently until nightfall." they waited in the rose chamber a long time, talking earnestly together; but the brilliant light that flooded both the room and the great dome outside did not fade in the least. [illustration] after several hours had passed away the gong sounded and tom atto again appeared, followed by four slaves bearing many golden dishes upon silver trays. the friendly cook had prepared a fine dinner and they were all glad to find that, whatever zog intended to do to them, he had no intention of starving them. perhaps the magician realized that aquareine's fairy powers, if put to the test, would be able to provide food for her companions; but whatever his object may have been, their enemy had given them splendid rooms and plenty to eat. "isn't it nearly night time?" asked the queen, as tom atto spread the table with a cloth of woven seaweed and directed his men to place the dishes upon it. "night!" he exclaimed, as if surprised. "there is no night here." "doesn't it ever get dark?" inquired trot. "never. we know nothing of the passage of time, or of day and night. the light always shines just as you see it now, and we sleep whenever we are tired and rise again as soon as we are rested." "what causes the light?" princess clia asked. "it's magic, your highness," said the cook, solemnly. "it's one of the curious things zog is able to do. but you must remember all this place is a big cave, in which the castle stands, so the light is never seen by anyone, except those who live here." "but why does zog keep his light going all the time?" asked the queen. "i suppose it is because he himself never sleeps," replied tom atto. "they say the master hasn't slept for hundreds of years; not since anko, the sea serpent, defeated him and drove him into this place." [illustration] they asked no more questions, and began to eat their dinner in silence. before long cap'n joe came in to visit his brother, and took a seat at the table with the prisoners. he proved a jolly fellow, and when he and cap'n bill talked about their boyhood days the stories were so funny that everybody laughed, and for a time forgot their worries. when dinner was over, however, and cap'n joe had gone back to his work of sewing on buttons and the servants had carried away the dishes, the prisoners remembered their troubles and the fate that awaited them. "i am much disappointed," said the queen, "to find there is no night here, and that zog never sleeps. it will make our escape more difficult. yet we must make the attempt, and as we are tired and a great struggle is before us, it will be best for us to sleep and refresh ourselves." they agreed to this, for the day had been long and adventurous, so cap'n bill kissed trot and went into the peony room, where he lay down upon his spongy couch and soon fell fast asleep. the mermaids and trot followed this example, and i think none of them was much worried, after all, because they quickly sank into peaceful slumber and forgot all the dangers that threatened them. [illustration] [illustration: _chap. 17._ _the_ queen's golden sword] "goodness me!" exclaimed trot, raising herself by a flirt of her pink-scaled tail and a wave of her fins; "isn't it dreadful hot here?" the mermaids had risen at the same time, and cap'n bill came swimming in from the peony room in time to hear the little girl's speech. "hot!" echoed the sailor, "why, i feel like the inside of a steam engine!" the perspiration was rolling down his round, red face, and he took out his handkerchief and carefully wiped it away, waving his fishtail gently at the same time. "what we need most in this room," said he, "is a fan." "what's the trouble, do you s'pose?" inquired trot. "it is another trick of the monster zog," answered the queen, calmly. "he has made the water in our rooms boiling hot, and if it could touch us we would be well cooked by this time. even as it is, we are all made uncomfortable by breathing the heated air." "what shall we do, ma'am?" the sailorman asked, with a groan. "i expected to get into hot water afore we've done with this foolishness, but i don't like the feel o' bein' par-boiled, jes' the same." the queen was waving her fairy wand, and paid no attention to cap'n bill's moans. already, the water felt cooler and they began to breathe more easily. in a few moments more the heat had passed from the surrounding water altogether, and all danger from this source was over. "this is better," said trot, gratefully. "do you care to sleep again?" asked the queen. "no; i'm wide awake, now," answered the child. "i'm afraid if i goes to sleep ag'in i'll wake up a pot roast," said cap'n bill. "let us consider ways to escape," suggested clia. "it seems useless for us to remain here, quietly, until zog discovers a way to destroy us." "but we must not blunder," added aquareine, cautiously. "to fail in our attempt would be to acknowledge zog's superior power, so we must think well upon our plan before we begin to carry it out. what do you advise, sir?" she asked, turning to cap'n bill. "my opinion, ma'am, is that the only way for us to escape is to get out o' here," was the sailor's vague answer. "how to do it is your business, seein' as i ain't no fairy myself, either in looks or in eddication." the queen smiled, and said to trot: "what is your opinion, my dear?" "i think we might swim out the same way we came in," answered the child. "if we could get sacho to lead us back through the maze, we would follow that long tunnel to the open ocean, and--" "and there would be the sea devils waitin' for us," added cap'n bill, with a shake of his bald head. "they'd drive us back inter the tunnel, like they did the first time, trot. it won't do, mate; it won't do." "have you a suggestion, clia?" inquired the queen. "i have thought of an undertaking," replied the pretty princess; "but it is a bold plan, your majesty, and you may not care to risk it." "let us hear it, anyway," said aquareine, encouragingly. "it is to destroy zog himself, and put him out of the world forever. then we would be free to go home, whenever we pleased." "can you suggest a way to destroy zog?" asked aquareine. "no, your majesty," clia answered. "i must leave the way for you to determine." "in the old days," said the queen, thoughtfully, "the mighty king anko could not destroy this monster. he succeeded in defeating zog, and drove him into this great cavern; but even anko could not destroy him." "i have heard the sea serpent explain that it was because he could not reach the magician," returned clia. "if king anko could have seized zog in his coils he would have made an end of the wicked monster quickly. zog knows this, and that is why he does not dare to venture forth from his retreat. anko is the enemy he constantly dreads. but with you, my queen, the case is different. you may easily reach zog, and the only question is whether your power is sufficient to destroy him." for a while, aquareine remained silent. "i am not sure of my power over zog," she said at last, "and for that reason i hesitate to attack him personally. his slaves, and his allies the sea devils, i can easily conquer; so i prefer to find a way to overcome the guards at the entrances, rather than to encounter their terrible master. but even the guards have been given strength and power by the magician, as we have already discovered; so i must procure a weapon with which to fight them." [illustration] "a weapon, ma'am?" said cap'n bill; and then he took a jackknife from his coat pocket and opened the big blade, afterward handing it to the queen. "that ain't a bad weapon," he announced. "but it is useless in this case," she replied, smiling at the old sailor's earnestness. "for my purpose i must have a golden sword." "well, there's plenty of gold around this castle," said trot, looking around her. "even in this room there's enough to make a hundred golden swords." "but we can't melt or forge gold under water, mate," the cap'n said. "why not? don't you s'pose all these gold roses and things were made under water?" asked the little girl. "like enough," admitted the sailor; "but i don't see how." just then, the gong at their door sounded and the boy sacho came in, smiling and cheerful as ever. he said zog had sent him to inquire after their health and happiness. "you may tell him that his water became a trifle too warm, so we cooled it," replied the queen. then they told sacho how the boiling water had made them uncomfortable while they slept. sacho whistled a little tune, and seemed thoughtful. "zog is foolish," said he. "how often have i told him that vengeance is but a waste of time. he is worried to know how to destroy you, and that is wasting more time. you are worried for fear he will injure you, and so you also are wasting time. my, my! what a waste of time is going on in this castle!" "seems to me that we have so much time it doesn't matter," said trot. "what's time for, anyhow?" "time is given us to be happy, and for no other reason," replied the boy, soberly. "when we waste time, we waste happiness. but there is no time for preaching, so i'll go." "please wait a moment, sacho," said the queen. "can i do anything to make you happy?" he asked, smiling again. "yes," answered aquareine. "we are curious to know who does all this beautiful gold work and ornamentation." "some of the slaves here are goldsmiths, having been taught by zog to forge and work metal under water," explained sacho. "in parts of the ocean lie many rocks filled with veins of pure gold and golden nuggets, and we get large supplies from sunken ships, as well. there is no lack of gold here, but it is not as precious as it is upon the earth, because here we have no need of money." "we would like to see the goldsmiths at work," announced the queen. the boy hesitated a moment. then he said: "i will take you to their room, where you may watch them for a time. i will not ask zog's permission to do this, for he might refuse. but my orders were to allow you the liberty of the castle, and so i will let you see the goldsmiths' shop." "thank you," replied aquareine, quietly; and then the four followed sacho along various corridors until they came to a large room, where a dozen men were busily at work. the shop was flooded with the brilliant, unknown light. lying here and there were heaps of virgin gold, some in its natural state and some already fashioned into ornaments and furniture of various sorts. each man worked at a bench where there was a curious iron furnace in which glowed a vivid, white light. although this workshop was all under water, and the workmen were obliged to breathe as fishes do, the furnaces glowed so hot that the water touching them was turned into steam. gold, or other metal, held over a furnace quickly softened or melted, when it could be forged or molded into any shape desired. "the furnaces are electric," explained sacho, "and heat as well under water as they would in the open air. let me introduce you to the foreman, who will tell you of his work better than i can." [illustration] the foreman was a slave named agga-groo, who was lean and lank, and had an expression more surly and unhappy than any slave they had yet seen. yet he seemed willing to leave his work and explain to the visitors how he made so many beautiful things out of gold, for he took much pride in this labor and knew its artistic worth. moreover, since he had been in zog's castle, these were the first strangers to enter his workshop, so he welcomed them in his own gruff way. the queen asked him if he was happy, and he shook his head and replied: "it isn't like calcutta, where i used to work in gold before i was wrecked at sea, and nearly drowned. zog rescued me and brought me here a slave. it is a stupid life we lead, doing the same things over and over every day; but perhaps it is better than being dead. i'm not sure. the only pleasure i get in life is in creating pretty things out of gold." "could you forge me a golden sword?" asked the queen, smiling sweetly upon the goldsmith. "i could, madam; but i won't unless zog orders me to do it." "do you like zog better than you do me?" inquired aquareine. "no," was the answer. "i hate zog." "then won't you make the sword to please me--and to show your skill?" pleaded the pretty mermaid. "i'm afraid of my master. he might not like it," the man replied. "but he will never know," said princess clia. "you cannot say what zog knows; or what he doesn't know," growled the man. "i can't take chances of offending zog, for i must live with him always as a slave." with this he turned away and resumed his work, hammering the leaf of a golden tulip. cap'n bill had listened carefully to this conversation, and being a wise old sailor, in his way, he thought he understood the nature of old agga-groo better than the mermaids did. so he went close to the goldsmith, and feeling in the pockets of his coat drew out a silver compass, shaped like a watch. "i'll give you this, if you'll make the queen the golden sword," he said. agga-groo looked at the compass with interest, and tested its power of pointing north. then he shook his head, and handed it back to cap'n bill. the sailor dived into his pocket again and pulled out a pair of scissors, which he placed beside the compass on the palm of his big hand. "you may have them both," he said. agga-groo hesitated, for he wanted the scissors badly; but finally he shook his head again. cap'n bill added a piece of cord, an iron thimble, some fishhooks, four buttons, and a safety pin; but, still the goldsmith would not be tempted. so, with a sigh, the sailor brought out his fine, big jackknife, and at sight of this agga-groo's eyes began to sparkle. steel was not to be had at the bottom of the sea, although gold was so plentiful. "all right, friend," he said; "give me that lot of trinkets and i'll make you a pretty gold sword. but it won't be any good except to look at, for our gold is so pure that it is very soft." "never mind that," replied cap'n bill. "all we want is the sword." the goldsmith set to work at once, and so skillful was he that in a few minutes he had forged a fine sword of yellow gold, with an ornamental handle. the shape was graceful, and the blade keen and slender. it was evident to them all that the golden sword would not stand hard use, for the edge of the blade would nick and curl like lead; but the queen was delighted with the prize, and took it eagerly in her hand. just then sacho returned to say that they must go back to their rooms, and after thanking the goldsmith, who was so busy examining his newly-acquired treasures that he made no response, they joyfully followed the boy back to the rose chamber. sacho told them that he had just come from zog, who was still wasting time in plotting vengeance. "you must be careful," he advised them, "for my cruel master intends to stop you from living, and he may succeed. don't be unhappy; but be careful. zog is angry because you escaped his yell-maker, and the falling stones, and the hot water. while he is angry he is wasting time; but that will not help you. take care not to waste any time yourselves." [illustration] "do you know what zog intends to do to us next?" asked princess clia. "no," said sacho; "but it is reasonable to guess that, being evil, he intends evil. he never intends to do good, i assure you." then the boy went away. "i am no longer afraid," declared the mermaid queen, when they were alone. "when i have bestowed certain fairy powers upon this golden sword, it will fight its way against any who dare oppose us, and even zog himself will not care to face so powerful a weapon. i am now able to promise you that we shall make our escape." "good!" cried trot, joyfully. "shall we start now?" "not yet, my dear. it will take me a little while to charm this golden blade so that it will obey my commands, and do my work. there is no need of undue haste, so i propose we all sleep for a time and obtain what rest we can. we must be fresh and ready for our great adventure." as their former nap had been interrupted, they readily agreed to aquareine's proposal and at once went to their couches and composed themselves to slumber. when they were asleep the fairy mermaid charmed her golden sword, and then she also lay down to rest herself. [illustration: _chap. 18._ a dash for liberty] trot dreamed that she was at home in her own bed; but the night seemed chilly and she wanted to draw the coverlet up to her chin. she was not wide awake, but realized that she was cold and was unable to move her arms to cover herself up. she tried, but could not stir. then she roused herself a little more, and tried again. yes; it was cold--very cold! really, she _must_ do something to get warm, she thought. she opened her eyes, and stared at a great wall of ice in front of her. she was awake now, and frightened, too. but, she could not move because the ice was all around her. she was frozen inside of it, and the air space around her was not big enough to allow her to turn over. at once, the little girl realized what had happened. their wicked enemy zog had, by his magic art, frozen all the water in their room while they slept, and now they were all imprisoned and helpless. trot and cap'n bill were sure to freeze to death in a short time, for only a tiny air space remained between their bodies and the ice, and this air was like that of a winter day when the thermometer is below zero. across the room trot could see the mermaid queen lying on her couch, for the solid ice was clear as crystal. aquareine was imprisoned just as trot was, and although she held her fairy wand in one hand and the golden sword in the other, she seemed unable to move either of them, and the girl remembered that the queen always waved her magic wand to accomplish anything. princess clia's couch was behind that of trot, so the child could not see her; and cap'n bill was in his own room, probably frozen fast in the ice, as the others were. the terrible zog had surely been very clever in this last attempt to destroy them. trot thought it all over, and decided that, inasmuch as the queen was unable to wave her fairy wand, she could do nothing to release herself or her friends. [illustration: queen aquareine and the magic sword] but in this the girl was mistaken. the fairy mermaid was even now at work, trying to save them, and in a few minutes trot was astonished and delighted to see the queen rise from her couch. she could not go far from it, at first, but the ice was melting rapidly all around her; so that gradually aquareine approached the place where the child lay. trot could hear the mermaid's voice sounding through the ice, as if from afar off; but it grew more distinct until she could make out that the queen was saying: "courage, friends! do not despair, for soon you will be free." before very long the ice between trot and the queen had melted away entirely, and with a cry of joy the little girl flopped her pink tail and swam to the side of her deliverer. "are you very cold?" asked aquareine. "n--not v--v--very!" replied trot; but, her teeth chattered and she was still shivering. "the water will be warm in a few minutes," said the queen. "but now i must melt the rest of the ice and liberate clia." this she did in an astonishingly brief time, and the pretty princess, being herself a fairy, had not been at all affected by the cold surrounding her. they now swam to the door of cap'n bill's room and found the peony chamber a solid block of ice. the queen worked her magic power as hard as she could, and the ice thawed and melted quickly before her fairy wand. yet when they reached the old sailor he was almost frozen stiff, and trot and clia had to rub his hands and nose, and ears very briskly to warm him up, and bring him back to life. cap'n bill was pretty tough, and he came around in time and opened his eyes and sneezed, and asked if the blizzard was over. so the queen waved her wand over his head a few times to restore him to his natural condition of warmth, and soon the old sailor became quite comfortable and was able to understand all about the strange adventure from which he had so marvelously escaped. "i've made up my mind to one thing, trot," he said confidentially; "if ever i get out o' this mess i'm in, i won't be an arctic explorer, whatever else happens. shivers an' shakes ain't to my likin', an' this ice business ain't what it's sometimes cracked up to be. to be friz once is enough fer anybody, an' if i was a gal like you i wouldn't even wear frizzes on my hair." "you haven't any hair, cap'n bill," answered trot; "so you needn't worry." the queen and clia had been talking together very earnestly. they now approached their earth friends, and aquareine said: "we have decided not to remain in this castle any longer. zog's cruel designs upon our lives and happiness are becoming too dangerous for us to endure. the golden sword now bears a fairy charm, and by its aid i will cut a way through our enemies. are you ready and willing to follow me?" "of course we are!" cried trot. "it don't seem 'zactly right to ask a lady to do the fightin'," remarked cap'n bill; "but magic ain't my strong p'int, and it seems to be yours, ma'am. so swim ahead, and we'll wiggle the same way you do, an' try to wiggle out of our troubles." [illustration] "if i chance to fail," said the queen, "try not to blame me. i will do all in my power to provide for our escape, and i am willing to risk everything, because i well know that to remain here will mean to perish in the end." "that's all right," said trot, with fine courage. "let's have it over with." "then we will leave here at once," said aquareine. she approached the window of the room, and with one blow of her golden sword shattered the thick pane of glass. the opening thus made was large enough for them to swim through, if they were careful not to scrape against the broken points of glass. the queen went first, followed by trot and cap'n bill, with clia last of all. and now they were in the vast dome in which the castle and gardens of zog had been built. around them was a clear stretch of water, and far above--full half a mile distant--was the opening in the roof guarded by the prince of the sea devils. the mermaid queen had determined to attack this monster. if she succeeded in destroying it with her golden sword the little band of fugitives might then swim through the opening into the clear waters of the ocean. although this prince of the sea devils was said to be big and wise and mighty, there was but one of him to fight; whereas, if they attempted to escape through any of the passages, they must encounter scores of such enemies. "swim straight for the opening in the dome!" cried aquareine, and in answer to the command the four whisked their glittering tails, waved their fins, and shot away through the water at full speed; their course slanting upward toward the top of the dome. [illustration: _chap. 19._ king anko to the rescue] the great magician zog never slept. he was always watchful and alert. some strange power warned him that his prisoners were about to escape. scarcely had the four left the castle by the broken window when the monster stepped from a doorway below and saw them. instantly he blew upon a golden whistle, and at the summons a band of wolf-fish appeared and dashed after the prisoners. these creatures swam so swiftly that soon they were between the fugitives and the dome, and then they turned and with wicked eyes and sharp fangs began a fierce attack upon the mermaids and the earth dwellers. trot was a little frightened at the evil looks of the sea wolves, whose heads were enormous, and whose jaws contained rows of curved and pointed teeth. but, aquareine advanced upon them with her golden sword and every touch of the charmed weapon instantly killed an enemy; so, that one by one the wolf-fish rolled over upon their backs and sank helplessly downward through the water, leaving the prisoners free to continue their way toward the opening in the dome. zog witnessed the destruction of his wolves and uttered a loud laugh that was terrible to hear. then the dread monster determined to arrest the fugitives himself, and in order to do this he was forced to discover himself in all the horror of his awful form--a form he was so ashamed of and loathed so greatly that he always strove to keep it concealed, even from his own eyes. but it was important that his prisoners should not escape. hastily casting off the folds of the robe that enveloped him zog allowed his body to uncoil and shoot upward through the water, in swift pursuit of his victims. his cloven hoofs, upon which he usually walked, being now useless, were drawn up under him, while coil after coil of his eel-like body wriggled away like a serpent. at his shoulders two broad feathery wings expanded, and these enabled the monster to cleave his way through the water with terrific force. zog was part man, part beast, part fish, part fowl, and part reptile. his undulating body was broad and thin, and like the body of an eel. it was as repulsive as one could well imagine, and no wonder zog hated it and kept it covered with his robe. [illustration] now, with his horned head and its glowing eyes thrust forward, wings flapping from his shoulders and his eely body--ending in a fish's tail--wriggling far behind him, this strange and evil creature was a thing of terror, even to the sea dwellers, who were accustomed to remarkable sights. the mermaids, the sailor and the child, one after another looking back as they swam onward toward liberty and safety, saw the monster coming and shuddered with uncontrollable fear. they were drawing nearer to the dome by this time, yet it was still some distance away. the four redoubled their speed, darting through the water with the swiftness of sky-rockets. but fast as they swam, zog swam faster, and the good queen's heart began to throb as she realized she would be forced to fight her loathesome foe. presently zog's long body was circling round them like a whirlwind, lashing the water into foam and gradually drawing nearer and nearer to his victims. his eyes were no longer glowing coals--they were balls of flame--and as he circled around them, he laughed aloud that horrible laugh which was far more terrifying than any cry of rage could be. the queen struck out with her golden sword, but zog wrapped a coil of his thin body around it and, wresting it from her hand, crushed the weapon into a shapeless mass. then, aquareine waved her fairy wand; but, in a flash the monster sent it flying away through the water. cap'n bill now decided that they were lost. he drew trot closer to his side and placed one arm around her. "i can't save you, dear little mate," he said, sadly, "but we've lived a long time together, an' now we'll die together. i knew, trot, when first we sawr them mermaids, as we'd--we'd--" "never live to tell the tale," said the child. "but never mind, cap'n bill; we've done the best we could, and we've had a fine time." "forgive me! oh, forgive me!" cried aquareine, despairingly. "i tried to save you, my poor friends, but--" "what's that?" exclaimed the princess, pointing upward. they all looked past zog's whirling body, which was slowly enveloping them in its folds, toward the round opening in the dome. a dark object had appeared there, sliding downward like a huge rope and descending toward them with lightning rapidly. they gave a great gasp as they recognized the countenance of king anko, the sea serpent, its gray hair and whiskers bristling like those of an angry cat and the usually mild blue eyes glowing with a ferocity even more terrifying than the orbs of zog. the magician gave a shrill scream at sight of his dreaded enemy, and abandoning his intended victims zog made a quick dash to escape. but nothing in the sea could equal the strength and quickness of king anko when he was roused. in a flash the sea serpent had caught zog fast in his coils, and his mighty body swept round the monster and imprisoned him tightly. the four, so suddenly rescued, swam away to a safer distance from the struggle, and then they turned to watch the encounter between the two great opposing powers of the ocean's depths. yet there was no desperate fight to observe, for the combatants were unequal. the end came before they were aware of it. zog had been taken by surprise and his great fear of anko destroyed all of his magic power. when the sea serpent slowly released those awful coils, a mass of jelly-like pulp floated downward through the water, with no remnant of life remaining in it--no form to show it had once been zog, the magician. then anko shook his body, that the water might cleanse it, and advanced his head toward the group of four whom he had so opportunely rescued. "it is all over, friends," said he in his gentle tones, while a mild expression once more reigned on his comical features; "you may go home at any time you please, for the way through the dome will be open as soon as i get my own body through it." indeed, so amazing was the length of the great sea serpent, that only a part of him had descended through the hole into the dome. without waiting for the thanks of those he had rescued he swiftly retreated to the ocean above, and with grateful hearts they followed him, glad to leave the cavern where they had endured so much anxiety and danger. [illustration] [illustration: _chap. 20._ the home of the ocean monarch] trot sobbed quietly, with her head on cap'n bill's shoulder. she had been a brave little girl during the trying times they had experienced, and never once had she given way to tears, however desperate their fate had seemed to be. but now that the one enemy in all the sea to be dreaded was utterly destroyed, and all dangers were past, the reaction was so great that she could not help having "just one good cry," as she naively expressed it. cap'n bill was a big sailorman, hardened by age and many adventures; but even he felt a "lump in his throat" that he could not swallow, try as hard as he might. cap'n bill was glad. he was mostly glad on trot's account, for he loved his sweet, childish companion very dearly, and did not want any harm to befall her. they were now in the wide, open sea, with liberty to go wherever they wished, and if cap'n bill could have "had his say" he would have gone straight home and carried trot to her mother. but the mermaids must be considered. aquareine and clia had been true and faithful friends to their earth guests while dangers were threatening, and it would not be very gracious to leave them at once. moreover, king anko was now with them, his big head keeping pace with the mermaids as they swam, and this mighty preserver had a distinct claim upon both trot and cap'n bill. the sailor felt that it would not be polite to ask to go home so soon. "if you people had come to visit me, as i invited you to do," said the sea serpent, "all this bother and trouble would have been saved. i had my palace all put in order to receive the earth dwellers, and sat in my den waiting patiently to receive you. yet you never came at all." "that reminds me," said trot, drying her eyes; "you never told us about that third pain you once had." "finally," continued anko, "i sent to inquire as to what had become of you, and merla said you had been gone from the palace a long time, and she was getting anxious about you. then i made inquiries. every one in the sea loves to serve me--except those sea devils and their cousins the octopi--and it wasn't long before i heard you had been captured by zog." "was the third pain as bad as the other two?" asked trot. "naturally, this news disturbed me and made me unhappy," said anko; "for i well knew, my aquareine, that the magician's evil powers were greater than your own fairy accomplishments. but i had never been able to find zog's enchanted castle, and so i was at a loss to know how to save you from your dreadful fate. after i had wasted a good deal of time thinking it over, i decided that if the sea devils were slaves of zog, the prince of the sea devils must know where the enchanted castle was located. "i knew this prince, and where to find him, for he always lay on a hollow rock, on the bottom of the sea, and never moved from that position. his people brought food to him and took his commands. so i had no trouble in finding this evil prince, and i went to him and asked the way to zog's castle. of course he would not tell me. he was even cross and disrespectful--just as i had expected him to be; so i allowed myself to become angry and killed him, thinking he was much better dead than alive. but after the sea devil was destroyed, what was my surprise to find that all these years he had been lying over a round hole in the rock, and covering it with his scarlet body! [illustration] "a light shone through this hole, so i thrust my head in and found a great domed cave underneath, with a splendid silver castle built at the bottom. you, my friends, were at that moment swimming toward me as fast as you could come, and the monster, zog, my enemy for centuries past, was close behind you. "well, the rest of the story you know. i would be angry with all of you for so carelessly getting captured, had the incident not led to the destruction of the one evil genius in all my ocean. i shall rest easier and be much happier, now that zog is dead. he has defied me for hundreds of years." "but, about that third pain," said trot. "if you don't tell us now, i'm afraid that i'll forget to ask you." "if you should happen to forget, just remind me of it," said anko, "and i'll be sure to tell you." while trot was thinking this over the swimmers drew near to a great circular palace made all of solid alabaster, polished as smooth as ivory. its roof was a vast dome, for domes seemed to be fashionable in the ocean houses. there were no doors or windows, but instead of these several round holes appeared in different parts of the dome, some being high up and some low down, and some in between. out of one of these holes, which it just fitted, stretched the long, brown body of the sea serpent. trot, being astonished at this sight, asked: "didn't you take all of you when you went to the cavern, anko?" "nearly all, my dear," was the reply, accompanied by a cheerful smile, for anko was proud of his great length; "but not quite all. some of me remained, as usual, to keep house while my head was away. but, i've been coiling up ever since we started back, and you will soon be able to see every inch of me, all together." even as he spoke his head slid into the round hole and, at a signal from aquareine, they all paused outside and waited. presently, there came to them four beautiful winged fishes with faces like doll babies. their long hair and eyelashes were of a purple color, and their cheeks had rosy spots that looked as if they had been painted upon them. "his majesty bids you welcome," said one of the doll fishes, in a sweet voice. "be kind enough to enter the royal palace and our ocean monarch will graciously receive you." "seems to me," said trot to the queen, "these things are putting on airs. perhaps they don't know we're friends of anko." "the king insists on certain formalities when anyone visits him," was aquareine's reply. "it is right that his dignity should be maintained." they followed their winged conductors to one of the upper openings, and as they entered it, aquareine said in a clear voice: "may the glory and power of the ocean king continue forever!" then she touched the palm of her hand to her forehead in token of allegiance, and clia did the same; so cap'n bill and trot followed suit. the brief ceremony being ended the child looked curiously around to see what the palace of the mighty anko was like. an extensive hall, lined with alabaster, was before them. in the floor were five of the round holes. upon the walls were engraved many interesting scenes of ocean life, all chiseled very artistically by the tusks of walruses, who, trot was afterward informed, are greatly skilled in such work. a few handsome rugs of woven sea grasses were spread upon the floor; but otherwise the vast hall was bare of furniture. the doll-faced fishes escorted them to an upper room where a table was set, and here the travelers were invited to refresh themselves. as all four were exceedingly hungry they welcomed the repast, which was served by an army of lobsters in royal purple aprons and caps. the meal being finished they again descended to the hall, which seemed to occupy all the middle of the building. and now their conductors said: "his majesty is ready to receive you in his den." they swam downward through one of the round holes in the floor and found themselves in a brilliantly lighted chamber, which appeared bigger than all the rest of the palace put together. in the center was the quaint head of king anko, and around it was spread a great coverlet of purple and gold woven together. this concealed all of his body and stretched from wall to wall of the circular room. "welcome, friends!" said anko, pleasantly. "how do you like my home?" "it's very grand," replied trot. "just the place for a sea serpent, seems to me," said cap'n bill. "i'm glad you admire it," said the king. "perhaps i ought to tell you that from this day you four belong to me." "how's that?" asked the girl, surprised. "it is a law of the ocean," declared anko, "that whoever saves any living creature from violent death owns that creature forever afterward--while life lasts. you will realize how just this law is when you remember that had i not saved you from zog, you would now be dead. the law was suggested by captain kid glove, when he once visited me." "do you mean captain kidd?" asked trot, "because, if you do--" "give him his full name," said anko. "captain kid glove was--" "there's no glove to it," protested trot. "i ought to know, 'cause i've read about him." "didn't it say anything about a glove?" asked anko. "nothing at all. it jus' called him cap'n kidd," replied trot. "she's right, ol' man," added cap'n bill. "books," said the sea serpent, "are good enough, as far as they go; but it seems to me your earth books don't go far enough. captain kid glove was a gentleman pirate--a kid-glove pirate. to leave off the glove and call him just kidd is very disrespectful." "oh! you told me to remind you of that third pain," said the little girl. "which proves my friendship for you," returned the sea serpent, blinking his blue eyes thoughtfully. "no one likes to be reminded of a pain, and that third pain was--was--" "what was it?" asked trot. "it was a stomach ache," replied the king, with a sigh. "what made it?" she inquired. "just my carelessness," said anko. "i'd been away to foreign parts, seeing how the earth people were getting along. i found the germans dancing the german, and the dutch making dutch cheese, and the belgians combing their belgian hares, and the turks eating turkey, and the sardinians sardonically pickling sardines. then i called on the prince of whales, and--" "you mean the prince of wales," corrected trot. "i mean what i say, my dear. i saw the battlefield where the bull run but the americans didn't, and when i got to france i paid a napoleon to see napoleon with his bones apart. he was--" "of course, you mean--" trot was beginning, but the king would not give her a chance to correct him this time. "he was very hungry for hungary," he continued, "and was russian so fast toward the poles that i thought he'd discover them. so, as i was not accorded a royal welcome, i took french leave and came home again." "but the pain--" "on the way home," continued anko, calmly, "i was a little absent-minded and ate an anchor. there was a long chain attached to it; and as i continued to swallow the anchor i continued to eat the chain. i never realized what i had done until i found a ship on the other end of the chain. then i bit it off." "the ship?" asked trot. "no; the chain. i didn't care for the ship, as i saw it contained some skippers. on the way home the chain and anchor began to lie heavily on my stomach. i didn't seem to digest them properly, and by the time i got to my palace, where you will notice there is no throne, i was thrown into throes of severe pain. so i at once sent for dr. shark--" "are all your doctors sharks?" asked the child. "yes; aren't your doctors sharks?" he replied. "not all of them," said trot. "that is true," remarked cap'n bill. "but when you talk of lawyers--" "i'm not talking of lawyers," said anko, reprovingly; "i'm talking about my pain. i don't imagine anyone could suffer more than i did with that stomach ache." "did you suffer long?" inquired trot. "why, about seven thousand four hundred and eighty-two feet and--" "i mean a long time." "it seemed like a long time," answered the king. "dr. shark said i ought to put a mustard poultice on my stomach; so i uncoiled myself and summoned my servants, and they began putting on the mustard plaster. it had to be bound all around me, so it wouldn't slip off, and i began to look like an express package. in about four weeks fully one-half of the pain had been covered by the mustard poultice, which got so hot that it hurt me worse than the stomach ache did." "i know," said trot. "i had one, once." "one what?" asked anko. "a mustard plaster. they smart pretty bad, but i guess they're a good thing." "i got myself unwrapped as soon as i could," continued the king, "and then i hunted for the doctor, who hid himself until my anger had subsided. he has never sent in a bill, so i think he must be terribly ashamed of himself." "you're lucky, sir, to have escaped so easy," said cap'n bill. "but you seem pretty well now." "yes, i'm more careful of what i eat," replied the sea serpent. "but i was saying when trot interrupted me, that you all belong to me, because i have saved your lives. by the law of the ocean you must obey me in everything." the sailor scowled a little at hearing this, but trot laughed, and said: "the law of the ocean isn't _our_ law, 'cause we live on land." "just now you are living in the ocean," declared anko, "and as long as you live here, you must obey my commands." "what are your commands?" inquired the child. "ah; that's the point i was coming to," returned the king, with his comical smile. "the ocean is a beautiful place, and we who belong here love it dearly. in many ways it's a nicer place for a home than the earth, for we have no sunstrokes, mosquitoes, earthquakes or candy shops to bother us. but i am convinced that the ocean is no proper dwelling place for earth people, and i believe the mermaids did an unwise thing when they invited you to visit them." "i don't," protested the girl. "we've had a fine time; haven't we, cap'n bill?" "well, it's been diff'rent from what i expected," admitted the sailor. [illustration] "our only thought was to give the earth people pleasure, your majesty," pleaded aquareine. "i know; i know, my dear queen; and it was very good of you," replied anko. "but, still it was an unwise act, for earth people are as constantly in danger under water as we would be upon the land. so, having won the right to command you all, i order you to take little mayre and cap'n bill straight home, and there restore them to their natural forms. it's a dreadful condition, i know, and they must each have two stumbling legs instead of a strong, beautiful fishtail; but it is the fate of earth dwellers, and they cannot escape it." "in my case, your majesty, made it _one_ leg," suggested cap'n bill. "ah, yes; i remember. one leg, and a wooden stick to keep it company. i issue this order, my friends, not because i am not fond of your society, but to keep you from getting into more trouble in a country where all is strange and unnatural to you. am i right, or do you think i am wrong?" "you're quite correct, sir," said cap'n bill, nodding his head in approval. "well, i'm ready to go home," said trot. "but in spite of zog, i've enjoyed my visit, and i shall always love the mermaids for being so good to me." that speech pleased aquareine and clia, who smiled upon the child, and kissed her affectionately. "we shall escort you home at once," announced the queen. "but before you go," said king anko, "i will give you a rare treat. it is one you will remember as long as you live. you shall see every inch of the mightiest sea serpent in the world, all at one time!" as he spoke, the purple and gold cloth was lifted by unseen hands and disappeared from view. and now cap'n bill and trot looked down upon thousands and thousands of coils of the sea serpent's body, which filled all of the space at the bottom of the immense circular room. it reminded them of a great coil of garden hose, only it was so much bigger around, and very much longer. except for the astonishing size of the ocean king, the sight was not an especially interesting one; but they told old anko that they were pleased to see him, because it was evident he was very proud of his figure. then the cloth descended again and covered all but the head; after which they bade the king good-bye and thanked him for all his kindness to them. "i used to think sea serpents were horrid creatures," said trot; "but now i know they are good and--and--and--" "and big," added cap'n bill, realizing his little friend could not find another word that was complimentary. [illustration: _chap. 21._ king joe] as they swam out of anko's palace and the doll-faced fishes left them, aquareine asked: "would you rather go back to our mermaid home for a time, and rest yourselves, or would you prefer to start for giant's cave at once?" "i guess we'd better go back home," decided trot. "to our own home, i mean. we've been away quite a while, and king anko seemed to think it was best." "very well," replied the queen. "let us turn in this direction, then." "you can say good-bye to merla for us," continued trot. "she was very nice to us, an' 'specially to cap'n bill." "so she was, mate," agreed the sailor; "an' a prettier lady i never knew, even if she is a mermaid, beggin' your pardon, ma'am." "are we going anywhere near zog's castle?" asked the girl. "our way leads directly past the opening in the dome," said aquareine. "then, let's stop and see what sacho and the others are doing," suggested trot. "they can't be slaves any longer, you know, 'cause they haven't any master. i wonder if they're any happier than they were before?" "they seemed to be pretty happy as it was," remarked cap'n bill. "it will do no harm to pay them a brief visit," said princess clia. "all danger disappeared from the cavern with the destruction of zog." "i really ought to say good-bye to brother joe," observed the sailorman. "i won't see him again, you know, and i don't want to seem unbrotherly." "very well," said the queen, "we will reã«nter the cavern, for i, too, am anxious to know what will be the fate of the poor slaves of the magician." when they came to the hole in the top of the dome they dropped through it and swam leisurely down toward the castle. the water was clear and undisturbed and the silver castle looked very quiet and peaceful under the radiant light that still filled the cavern. they met no one at all, and passing around to the front of the building they reached the broad entrance and passed into the golden hall. here a strange scene met their eyes. all the slaves of zog, hundreds in number, were assembled in the room; while standing before the throne formerly occupied by the wicked magician was the boy sacho, who was just beginning to make a speech to his fellow slaves. "at one time or another," he said, "all of us were born upon the earth and lived in the thin air; but now we are all living as the fishes live, and our home is in the water of the ocean. one by one we have come to this place, having been saved from drowning by zog, the magician, and by him given power to exist in comfort under water. the powerful master who made us his slaves has now passed away forever, but we continue to live, and are unable to return to our native land, where we would quickly perish. there is no one but us to inherit zog's possessions, and so it will be best for us to remain in this fine castle and occupy ourselves as we have done before, in providing for the comforts of the community. only in labor is happiness to be found, and we may as well labor for ourselves as for others. "but we must have a king. not an evil, cruel master, like zog, but one who will maintain order and issue laws for the benefit of all. we will govern ourselves most happily by having a ruler, or head, selected from among ourselves by popular vote. therefore, i ask you to decide who shall be our king, for only one who is accepted by all can sit in zog's throne." the slaves applauded this speech, but they seemed puzzled to make the choice of a ruler. finally the chief cook came forward and said: "we all have our duties to perform, and so cannot spend the time to be king. but you, sacho, who were zog's own attendant, have now no duties at all. so it will be best for you to rule us. what say you, comrades? shall we make sacho king?" "yes, yes!" they all cried. "but i do not wish to be king," replied sacho. "a king is a useless sort of person, who merely issues orders for others to carry out. i want to be busy and useful. whoever is king will need a good attendant, as well as an officer who will see that his commands are obeyed. i am used to such duties, having served zog in this same way." "who, then, has the time to rule over us?" asked agga-groo, the goldsmith. "it seems to me that cap'n joe is the proper person for king," replied sacho. "his former duty was to sew buttons on zog's garments; so now he is out of a job and has plenty of time to be king, for he can sew on his own buttons. what do you say, cap'n joe?" "oh, i don't mind," agreed cap'n joe; "that is, if you all want me to rule you." "we do!" shouted the slaves, glad to find some one willing to take the job. "but i'll want a few pointers," continued cap'n bill's brother. "i ain't used to this sort o' work, you know, an' if i ain't properly posted i'm liable to make mistakes." "sacho will tell you," said tom atto, encouragingly. "and now i must go back to the kitchen and look after my dumplings, or you people won't have any dinner to-day." "very well," announced sacho. "i hereby proclaim cap'n joe elected king of the castle--which is the enchanted castle no longer. you may all return to your work." the slaves went away well contented, and the boy and cap'n joe now came forward to greet their visitors. "we're on our way home," explained cap'n bill, "an' we don't expec' to travel this way again. but it pleases me to know, joe, that you're the king o' such a fine castle, an' i'll rest easier now that you're well pervided for." "oh, i'm all right, bill," returned cap'n joe. "it's an easy life here, an' a peaceful one. i wish you was as well fixed." "if ever you need friends, sacho, or any assistance or counsel, come to me," said the mermaid queen to the boy. [illustration] "thank you, madam," he replied. "now that zog has gone, i am sure we shall be very safe and contented. but i shall not forget to come to you if we need you. we are not going to waste any time in anger, or revenge, or evil deeds; so i believe we shall prosper from now on." "i'm sure you will," declared trot. they now decided that they must continue their journey, and as neither sacho nor king joe could ascend to the top of the dome, without swimming in the human way, which was slow and tedious work for them, the good-byes were said at the castle entrance, and the four visitors started on their return. trot took one last view of the beautiful silver castle from the hole high up in the dome, which was now open and unguarded, and the next moment she was in the broad ocean again, swimming toward home beside her mermaid friends. [illustration] [illustration: _chap. 22._ trot lives to tell the tale] aquareine was thoughtful for a time. then she drew from her finger a ring--a plain gold band, set with a pearl of great value--and gave it to the little girl. "if at any period of your life the mermaids can be of service to you, my dear," she said, "you have but to come to the edge of the ocean and call 'aquareine.' if you are wearing this ring at the time i shall instantly hear you and come to your assistance." "thank you!" cried the child, slipping the ring over her own chubby finger, which it fitted perfectly. "i shall never forget that i have good and loyal friends in the ocean, you may be sure." away and away they swam, swiftly and in a straight line, keeping in the middle water where they were not liable to meet many sea people. they passed a few schools of fishes, where the teachers were explaining to the young ones how to swim properly, and to conduct themselves in a dignified manner; but trot did not care to stop and watch the exercises. although the queen had lost her fairy wand in zog's domed chamber, she had still enough magic power to carry them all across the ocean in wonderfully quick time, and before trot and cap'n bill were aware of the distance they had come the mermaids paused, while princess clia said: "now we must go a little deeper; for here is the giant's cave, and the entrance to it is near the bottom of the sea." "what, already!" cried the girl, joyfully; and then through the darker water they swam, passing through the rocky entrance, and began to ascend slowly into the azure-blue water of the cave. "you've been awfully good to us, and i don't know jus' how to thank you," said trot, earnestly. "we have enjoyed your visit to us," said beautiful queen aquareine, smiling upon her little friend, "and you may easily repay any pleasure we have given you by speaking well of the mermaids when you hear ignorant earth people condemning us." "i'll do that, of course," exclaimed the child. "how 'bout changin' us back to our reg'lar shapes?" inquired cap'n bill, anxiously. [illustration] "that will be very easy," replied princess clia, with her merry laugh. "see! here we are at the surface of the water." they pushed their heads above the blue water and looked around the cave. it was silent and deserted. floating gently near the spot where they had left it was their own little boat. cap'n bill swam to it, took hold of the side, and then turned an inquiring face toward the mermaids. "climb in," said the queen. so he pulled himself up and awkwardly tumbled forward into the boat. as he did so he heard his wooden leg clatter against the seat, and turned around to look at it wonderingly. "it's me, all right!" he muttered. "one meat one, an' one hick'ry one. that's the same as belongs to me!" "will you lift mayre aboard?" asked princess clia. the old sailor aroused himself, and as trot lifted up her arms he seized them and drew her safely into the boat. she was dressed just as usual, and her chubby legs wore shoes and stockings. strangely enough, neither of them were at all wet, or even damp in any part of their clothing. "i wonder where our legs have been while we've been gone?" mused cap'n bill, gazing at his little friend in great delight. "and i wonder what's become of our pretty pink and green scaled tails!" returned the girl, laughing with glee, for it seemed good to be herself again. queen aquareine and princess clia were a little way off, lying with their pretty faces just out of the water, while their hair floated in soft clouds around them. "good-bye, friends!" they called. "good-bye!" shouted both trot and cap'n bill, and the little girl blew two kisses from her fingers toward the mermaids. then the faces disappeared, leaving little ripples on the surface of the water. cap'n bill picked up the oars and slowly headed the boat toward the mouth of the cave. "i wonder, trot, if your ma has missed us," he remarked, uneasily. "of course not," replied the girl. "she's been sound asleep, you know." as the boat crept out into the bright sunlight they were both silent; but each sighed with pleasure at beholding their own everyday world again. finally trot said, softly: "the land's the best, cap'n." "it is, mate; for livin' on," he answered. "but, i'm glad to have seen the mermaids," she added. "well, so 'm i, trot," he agreed. "but, i wouldn't 'a' believed any mortal could ever 'a' seen 'em an'--an'--" trot laughed merrily. "an' lived to tell the tale!" she cried, her eyes dancing with mischief. "oh, cap'n bill, how little we mortals know!" "true enough, mate," he replied; "but we're a-learnin' something ev'ry day." [illustration: the end] * * * * * +--------------------------------------------------------------------+ | transcriber notes: | | | | note: the equals sign is used to surround underscores to | | surround _italic text_. | | | | fixed various punctuation. | | | | p. 95. "courses. a lobster spilled some soup on cap'n bill's bald | | head" and "and made him yell for a minute, because it was hot and | | he" these two lines were swapped around. | | p. 105. "yes; and they are the only creatures of the ocean which | | none to-day, for we are going near to the dismal caverns we | | greatly fear," replied aquareine. "i hope we shall meet where | | they live." these lines were swapped, they should read: | | "yes; and they are the only creatures of the ocean which we | | greatly fear," replied aquareine. "i hope we shall meet none | | to-day, for we are going near to the dismal caverns where they | | live." changed. | | p. 207. chapter 19 title "king anco" changed to "king anko". | +--------------------------------------------------------------------+ the scarecrow of oz by l. frank baum dedicated to "the uplifters" of los angeles, california, in grateful appreciation of the pleasure i have derived from association with them, and in recognition of their sincere endeavor to uplift humanity through kindness, consideration and good-fellowship. they are big men--all of them--and all with the generous hearts of little children. l. frank baum 'twixt you and me the army of children which besieged the postoffice, conquered the postmen and delivered to me its imperious commands, insisted that trot and cap'n bill be admitted to the land of oz, where trot could enjoy the society of dorothy, betsy bobbin and ozma, while the one-legged sailor-man might become a comrade of the tin woodman, the shaggy man, tik-tok and all the other quaint people who inhabit this wonderful fairyland. it was no easy task to obey this order and land trot and cap'n bill safely in oz, as you will discover by reading this book. indeed, it required the best efforts of our dear old friend, the scarecrow, to save them from a dreadful fate on the journey; but the story leaves them happily located in ozma's splendid palace and dorothy has promised me that button-bright and the three girls are sure to encounter, in the near future, some marvelous adventures in the land of oz, which i hope to be permitted to relate to you in the next oz book. meantime, i am deeply grateful to my little readers for their continued enthusiasm over the oz stories, as evinced in the many letters they send me, all of which are lovingly cherished. it takes more and more oz books every year to satisfy the demands of old and new readers, and there have been formed many "oz reading societies," where the oz books owned by different members are read aloud. all this is very gratifying to me and encourages me to write more stories. when the children have had enough of them, i hope they will let me know, and then i'll try to write something different. l. frank baum "royal historian of oz." "ozcot" at hollywood in california, 1915. list of chapters 1 the great whirlpool 2 the cavern under the sea 3 the ork 4 daylight at last 5 the little old man of the island 6 the flight of the midgets 7 the bumpy man 8 button-bright is lost, and found again 9 the kingdom of jinxland 10 pon, the gardener's boy 11 the wicked king and googly-goo 12 the wooden-legged grass-hopper 13 glinda the good and the scarecrow of oz 14 the frozen heart 15 trot meets the scarecrow 16 pon summons the king to surrender 17 the ork rescues button-bright 18 the scarecrow meets an enemy 19 the conquest of the witch 20 queen gloria 21 dorothy, betsy and ozma 22 the waterfall 23 the land of oz 24 the royal reception chapter one the great whirlpool "seems to me," said cap'n bill, as he sat beside trot under the big acacia tree, looking out over the blue ocean, "seems to me, trot, as how the more we know, the more we find we don't know." "i can't quite make that out, cap'n bill," answered the little girl in a serious voice, after a moment's thought, during which her eyes followed those of the old sailor-man across the glassy surface of the sea. "seems to me that all we learn is jus' so much gained." "i know; it looks that way at first sight," said the sailor, nodding his head; "but those as knows the least have a habit of thinkin' they know all there is to know, while them as knows the most admits what a turr'ble big world this is. it's the knowing ones that realize one lifetime ain't long enough to git more'n a few dips o' the oars of knowledge." trot didn't answer. she was a very little girl, with big, solemn eyes and an earnest, simple manner. cap'n bill had been her faithful companion for years and had taught her almost everything she knew. he was a wonderful man, this cap'n bill. not so very old, although his hair was grizzled--what there was of it. most of his head was bald as an egg and as shiny as oilcloth, and this made his big ears stick out in a funny way. his eyes had a gentle look and were pale blue in color, and his round face was rugged and bronzed. cap'n bill's left leg was missing, from the knee down, and that was why the sailor no longer sailed the seas. the wooden leg he wore was good enough to stump around with on land, or even to take trot out for a row or a sail on the ocean, but when it came to "runnin' up aloft" or performing active duties on shipboard, the old sailor was not equal to the task. the loss of his leg had ruined his career and the old sailor found comfort in devoting himself to the education and companionship of the little girl. the accident to cap'n bill's leg bad happened at about the time trot was born, and ever since that he had lived with trot's mother as "a star boarder," having enough money saved up to pay for his weekly "keep." he loved the baby and often held her on his lap; her first ride was on cap'n bill's shoulders, for she had no baby-carriage; and when she began to toddle around, the child and the sailor became close comrades and enjoyed many strange adventures together. it is said the fairies had been present at trot's birth and had marked her forehead with their invisible mystic signs, so that she was able to see and do many wonderful things. the acacia tree was on top of a high bluff, but a path ran down the bank in a zigzag way to the water's edge, where cap'n bill's boat was moored to a rock by means of a stout cable. it had been a hot, sultry afternoon, with scarcely a breath of air stirring, so cap'n bill and trot had been quietly sitting beneath the shade of the tree, waiting for the sun to get low enough for them to take a row. they had decided to visit one of the great caves which the waves had washed out of the rocky coast during many years of steady effort. the caves were a source of continual delight to both the girl and the sailor, who loved to explore their awesome depths. "i b'lieve, cap'n," remarked trot, at last, "that it's time for us to start." the old man cast a shrewd glance at the sky, the sea and the motionless boat. then he shook his head. "mebbe it's time, trot," he answered, "but i don't jes' like the looks o' things this afternoon." "what's wrong?" she asked wonderingly. "can't say as to that. things is too quiet to suit me, that's all. no breeze, not a ripple a-top the water, nary a gull a-flyin' anywhere, an' the end o' the hottest day o' the year. i ain't no weather-prophet, trot, but any sailor would know the signs is ominous." "there's nothing wrong that i can see," said trot. "if there was a cloud in the sky even as big as my thumb, we might worry about it; but--look, cap'n!--the sky is as clear as can be." he looked again and nodded. "p'r'aps we can make the cave, all right," he agreed, not wishing to disappoint her. "it's only a little way out, an' we'll be on the watch; so come along, trot." together they descended the winding path to the beach. it was no trouble for the girl to keep her footing on the steep way, but cap'n bill, because of his wooden leg, had to hold on to rocks and roots now and then to save himself from tumbling. on a level path he was as spry as anyone, but to climb up hill or down required some care. they reached the boat safely and while trot was untying the rope cap'n bill reached into a crevice of the rock and drew out several tallow candles and a box of wax matches, which he thrust into the capacious pockets of his "sou'wester." this sou'wester was a short coat of oilskin which the old sailor wore on all occasions--when he wore a coat at all--and the pockets always contained a variety of objects, useful and ornamental, which made even trot wonder where they all came from and why cap'n bill should treasure them. the jackknives--a big one and a little one--the bits of cord, the fishhooks, the nails: these were handy to have on certain occasions. but bits of shell, and tin boxes with unknown contents, buttons, pincers, bottles of curious stones and the like, seemed quite unnecessary to carry around. that was cap'n bill's business, however, and now that he added the candles and the matches to his collection trot made no comment, for she knew these last were to light their way through the caves. the sailor always rowed the boat, for he handled the oars with strength and skill. trot sat in the stern and steered. the place where they embarked was a little bight or circular bay, and the boat cut across a much larger bay toward a distant headland where the caves were located, right at the water's edge. they were nearly a mile from shore and about halfway across the bay when trot suddenly sat up straight and exclaimed: "what's that, cap'n?" he stopped rowing and turned half around to look. "that, trot," he slowly replied, "looks to me mighty like a whirlpool." "what makes it, cap'n?" "a whirl in the air makes the whirl in the water. i was afraid as we'd meet with trouble, trot. things didn't look right. the air was too still." "it's coming closer," said the girl. the old man grabbed the oars and began rowing with all his strength. "'tain't comin' closer to us, trot," he gasped; "it's we that are comin' closer to the whirlpool. the thing is drawin' us to it like a magnet!" trot's sun-bronzed face was a little paler as she grasped the tiller firmly and tried to steer the boat away; but she said not a word to indicate fear. the swirl of the water as they came nearer made a roaring sound that was fearful to listen to. so fierce and powerful was the whirlpool that it drew the surface of the sea into the form of a great basin, slanting downward toward the center, where a big hole had been made in the ocean--a hole with walls of water that were kept in place by the rapid whirling of the air. the boat in which trot and cap'n bill were riding was just on the outer edge of this saucer-like slant, and the old sailor knew very well that unless he could quickly force the little craft away from the rushing current they would soon be drawn into the great black hole that yawned in the middle. so he exerted all his might and pulled as he had never pulled before. he pulled so hard that the left oar snapped in two and sent cap'n bill sprawling upon the bottom of the boat. he scrambled up quickly enough and glanced over the side. then he looked at trot, who sat quite still, with a serious, far-away look in her sweet eyes. the boat was now speeding swiftly of its own accord, following the line of the circular basin round and round and gradually drawing nearer to the great hole in the center. any further effort to escape the whirlpool was useless, and realizing this fact cap'n bill turned toward trot and put an arm around her, as if to shield her from the awful fate before them. he did not try to speak, because the roar of the waters would have drowned the sound of his voice. these two faithful comrades had faced dangers before, but nothing to equal that which now faced them. yet cap'n bill, noting the look in trot's eyes and remembering how often she had been protected by unseen powers, did not quite give way to despair. the great hole in the dark water--now growing nearer and nearer--looked very terrifying; but they were both brave enough to face it and await the result of the adventure. chapter two the cavern under the sea the circles were so much smaller at the bottom of the basin, and the boat moved so much more swiftly, that trot was beginning to get dizzy with the motion, when suddenly the boat made a leap and dived headlong into the murky depths of the hole. whirling like tops, but still clinging together, the sailor and the girl were separated from their boat and plunged down--down--down--into the farthermost recesses of the great ocean. at first their fall was swift as an arrow, but presently they seemed to be going more moderately and trot was almost sure that unseen arms were about her, supporting her and protecting her. she could see nothing, because the water filled her eyes and blurred her vision, but she clung fast to cap'n bill's sou'wester, while other arms clung fast to her, and so they gradually sank down and down until a full stop was made, when they began to ascend again. but it seemed to trot that they were not rising straight to the surface from where they had come. the water was no longer whirling them and they seemed to be drawn in a slanting direction through still, cool ocean depths. and then--in much quicker time than i have told it--up they popped to the surface and were cast at full length upon a sandy beach, where they lay choking and gasping for breath and wondering what had happened to them. trot was the first to recover. disengaging herself from cap'n bill's wet embrace and sitting up, she rubbed the water from her eyes and then looked around her. a soft, bluish-green glow lighted the place, which seemed to be a sort of cavern, for above and on either side of her were rugged rocks. they had been cast upon a beach of clear sand, which slanted upward from the pool of water at their feet--a pool which doubtless led into the big ocean that fed it. above the reach of the waves of the pool were more rocks, and still more and more, into the dim windings and recesses of which the glowing light from the water did not penetrate. the place looked grim and lonely, but trot was thankful that she was still alive and had suffered no severe injury during her trying adventure under water. at her side cap'n bill was sputtering and coughing, trying to get rid of the water he had swallowed. both of them were soaked through, yet the cavern was warm and comfortable and a wetting did not dismay the little girl in the least. she crawled up the slant of sand and gathered in her hand a bunch of dried seaweed, with which she mopped the face of cap'n bill and cleared the water from his eyes and ears. presently the old man sat up and stared at her intently. then he nodded his bald head three times and said in a gurgling voice: "mighty good, trot; mighty good! we didn't reach davy jones's locker that time, did we? though why we didn't, an' why we're here, is more'n i kin make out." "take it easy, cap'n," she replied. "we're safe enough, i guess, at least for the time being." he squeezed the water out of the bottoms of his loose trousers and felt of his wooden leg and arms and head, and finding he had brought all of his person with him he gathered courage to examine closely their surroundings. "where d'ye think we are, trot?" he presently asked. "can't say, cap'n. p'r'aps in one of our caves." he shook his head. "no," said he, "i don't think that, at all. the distance we came up didn't seem half as far as the distance we went down; an' you'll notice there ain't any outside entrance to this cavern whatever. it's a reg'lar dome over this pool o' water, and unless there's some passage at the back, up yonder, we're fast pris'ners." trot looked thoughtfully over her shoulder. "when we're rested," she said, "we will crawl up there and see if there's a way to get out." cap'n bill reached in the pocket of his oilskin coat and took out his pipe. it was still dry, for he kept it in an oilskin pouch with his tobacco. his matches were in a tight tin box, so in a few moments the old sailor was smoking contentedly. trot knew it helped him to think when he was in any difficulty. also, the pipe did much to restore the old sailor's composure, after his long ducking and his terrible fright--a fright that was more on trot's account than his own. the sand was dry where they sat, and soaked up the water that dripped from their clothing. when trot had squeezed the wet out of her hair she began to feel much like her old self again. by and by they got upon their feet and crept up the incline to the scattered boulders above. some of these were of huge size, but by passing between some and around others, they were able to reach the extreme rear of the cavern. "yes," said trot, with interest, "here's a round hole." "and it's black as night inside it," remarked cap'n bill. "just the same," answered the girl, "we ought to explore it, and see where it goes, 'cause it's the only poss'ble way we can get out of this place." cap'n bill eyed the hole doubtfully "it may be a way out o' here, trot," he said, "but it may be a way into a far worse place than this. i'm not sure but our best plan is to stay right here." trot wasn't sure, either, when she thought of it in that light. after awhile she made her way back to the sands again, and cap'n bill followed her. as they sat down, the child looked thoughtfully at the sailor's bulging pockets. "how much food have we got, cap'n?" she asked. "half a dozen ship's biscuits an' a hunk o' cheese," he replied. "want some now, trot?" she shook her head, saying: "that ought to keep us alive 'bout three days if we're careful of it." "longer'n that, trot," said cap'n bill, but his voice was a little troubled and unsteady. "but if we stay here we're bound to starve in time," continued the girl, "while if we go into the dark hole--" "some things are more hard to face than starvation," said the sailor-man, gravely. "we don't know what's inside that dark hole: trot, nor where it might lead us to." "there's a way to find that out," she persisted. instead of replying, cap'n bill began searching in his pockets. he soon drew out a little package of fish-hooks and a long line. trot watched him join them together. then he crept a little way up the slope and turned over a big rock. two or three small crabs began scurrying away over the sands and the old sailor caught them and put one on his hook and the others in his pocket. coming back to the pool he swung the hook over his shoulder and circled it around his head and cast it nearly into the center of the water, where he allowed it to sink gradually, paying out the line as far as it would go. when the end was reached, he began drawing it in again, until the crab bait was floating on the surface. trot watched him cast the line a second time, and a third. she decided that either there were no fishes in the pool or they would not bite the crab bait. but cap'n bill was an old fisherman and not easily discouraged. when the crab got away he put another on the hook. when the crabs were all gone he climbed up the rocks and found some more. meantime trot tired of watching him and lay down upon the sands, where she fell fast asleep. during the next two hours her clothing dried completely, as did that of the old sailor. they were both so used to salt water that there was no danger of taking cold. finally the little girl was wakened by a splash beside her and a grunt of satisfaction from cap'n bill. she opened her eyes to find that the cap'n had landed a silver-scaled fish weighing about two pounds. this cheered her considerably and she hurried to scrape together a heap of seaweed, while cap'n bill cut up the fish with his jackknife and got it ready for cooking. they had cooked fish with seaweed before. cap'n bill wrapped his fish in some of the weed and dipped it in the water to dampen it. then he lighted a match and set fire to trot's heap, which speedily burned down to a glowing bed of ashes. then they laid the wrapped fish on the ashes, covered it with more seaweed, and allowed this to catch fire and burn to embers. after feeding the fire with seaweed for some time, the sailor finally decided that their supper was ready, so he scattered the ashes and drew out the bits of fish, still encased in their smoking wrappings. when these wrappings were removed, the fish was found thoroughly cooked and both trot and cap'n bill ate of it freely. it had a slight flavor of seaweed and would have been better with a sprinkling of salt. the soft glow which until now had lighted the cavern, began to grow dim, but there was a great quantity of seaweed in the place, so after they had eaten their fish they kept the fire alive for a time by giving it a handful of fuel now and then. from an inner pocket the sailor drew a small flask of battered metal and unscrewing the cap handed it to trot. she took but one swallow of the water although she wanted more, and she noticed that cap'n bill merely wet his lips with it. "s'pose," said she, staring at the glowing seaweed fire and speaking slowly, "that we can catch all the fish we need; how 'bout the drinking-water, cap'n?" he moved uneasily but did not reply. both of them were thinking about the dark hole, but while trot had little fear of it the old man could not overcome his dislike to enter the place. he knew that trot was right, though. to remain in the cavern, where they now were, could only result in slow but sure death. it was nighttime up on the earth's surface, so the little girl became drowsy and soon fell asleep. after a time the old sailor slumbered on the sands beside her. it was very still and nothing disturbed them for hours. when at last they awoke the cavern was light again. they had divided one of the biscuits and were munching it for breakfast when they were startled by a sudden splash in the pool. looking toward it they saw emerging from the water the most curious creature either of them had ever beheld. it wasn't a fish, trot decided, nor was it a beast. it had wings, though, and queer wings they were: shaped like an inverted chopping-bowl and covered with tough skin instead of feathers. it had four legs--much like the legs of a stork, only double the number--and its head was shaped a good deal like that of a poll parrot, with a beak that curved downward in front and upward at the edges, and was half bill and half mouth. but to call it a bird was out of the question, because it had no feathers whatever except a crest of wavy plumes of a scarlet color on the very top of its head. the strange creature must have weighed as much as cap'n bill, and as it floundered and struggled to get out of the water to the sandy beach it was so big and unusual that both trot and her companion stared at it in wonder--in wonder that was not unmixed with fear. chapter three the ork the eyes that regarded them, as the creature stood dripping before them, were bright and mild in expression, and the queer addition to their party made no attempt to attack them and seemed quite as surprised by the meeting as they were. "i wonder," whispered trot, "what it is." "who, me?" exclaimed the creature in a shrill, high-pitched voice. "why, i'm an ork." "oh!" said the girl. "but what is an ork?" "i am," he repeated, a little proudly, as he shook the water from his funny wings; "and if ever an ork was glad to be out of the water and on dry land again, you can be mighty sure that i'm that especial, individual ork!" "have you been in the water long?" inquired cap'n bill, thinking it only polite to show an interest in the strange creature. "why, this last ducking was about ten minutes, i believe, and that's about nine minutes and sixty seconds too long for comfort," was the reply. "but last night i was in an awful pickle, i assure you. the whirlpool caught me, and--" "oh, were you in the whirlpool, too?" asked trot eagerly. he gave her a glance that was somewhat reproachful. "i believe i was mentioning the fact, young lady, when your desire to talk interrupted me," said the ork. "i am not usually careless in my actions, but that whirlpool was so busy yesterday that i thought i'd see what mischief it was up to. so i flew a little too near it and the suction of the air drew me down into the depths of the ocean. water and i are natural enemies, and it would have conquered me this time had not a bevy of pretty mermaids come to my assistance and dragged me away from the whirling water and far up into a cavern, where they deserted me." "why, that's about the same thing that happened to us," cried trot. "was your cavern like this one?" "i haven't examined this one yet," answered the ork; "but if they happen to be alike i shudder at our fate, for the other one was a prison, with no outlet except by means of the water. i stayed there all night, however, and this morning i plunged into the pool, as far down as i could go, and then swam as hard and as far as i could. the rocks scraped my back, now and then, and i barely escaped the clutches of an ugly sea-monster; but by and by i came to the surface to catch my breath, and found myself here. that's the whole story, and as i see you have something to eat i entreat you to give me a share of it. the truth is, i'm half starved." with these words the ork squatted down beside them. very reluctantly cap'n bill drew another biscuit from his pocket and held it out. the ork promptly seized it in one of its front claws and began to nibble the biscuit in much the same manner a parrot might have done. "we haven't much grub," said the sailor-man, "but we're willin' to share it with a comrade in distress." "that's right," returned the ork, cocking its head sidewise in a cheerful manner, and then for a few minutes there was silence while they all ate of the biscuits. after a while trot said: "i've never seen or heard of an ork before. are there many of you?" "we are rather few and exclusive, i believe," was the reply. "in the country where i was born we are the absolute rulers of all living things, from ants to elephants." "what country is that?" asked cap'n bill. "orkland." "where does it lie?" "i don't know, exactly. you see, i have a restless nature, for some reason, while all the rest of my race are quiet and contented orks and seldom stray far from home. from childhood days i loved to fly long distances away, although father often warned me that i would get into trouble by so doing. "'it's a big world, flipper, my son,' he would say, 'and i've heard that in parts of it live queer two-legged creatures called men, who war upon all other living things and would have little respect for even an ork.' "this naturally aroused my curiosity and after i had completed my education and left school i decided to fly out into the world and try to get a glimpse of the creatures called men. so i left home without saying good-bye, an act i shall always regret. adventures were many, i found. i sighted men several times, but have never before been so close to them as now. also i had to fight my way through the air, for i met gigantic birds, with fluffy feathers all over them, which attacked me fiercely. besides, it kept me busy escaping from floating airships. in my rambling i had lost all track of distance or direction, so that when i wanted to go home i had no idea where my country was located. i've now been trying to find it for several months and it was during one of my flights over the ocean that i met the whirlpool and became its victim." trot and cap'n bill listened to this recital with much interest, and from the friendly tone and harmless appearance of the ork they judged he was not likely to prove so disagreeable a companion as at first they had feared he might be. the ork sat upon its haunches much as a cat does, but used the finger-like claws of its front legs almost as cleverly as if they were hands. perhaps the most curious thing about the creature was its tail, or what ought to have been its tail. this queer arrangement of skin, bones and muscle was shaped like the propellers used on boats and airships, having fan-like surfaces and being pivoted to its body. cap'n bill knew something of mechanics, and observing the propeller-like tail of the ork he said: "i s'pose you're a pretty swift flyer?" "yes, indeed; the orks are admitted to be kings of the air." "your wings don't seem to amount to much," remarked trot. "well, they are not very big," admitted the ork, waving the four hollow skins gently to and fro, "but they serve to support my body in the air while i speed along by means of my tail. still, taken altogether, i'm very handsomely formed, don't you think?" trot did not like to reply, but cap'n bill nodded gravely. "for an ork," said he, "you're a wonder. i've never seen one afore, but i can imagine you're as good as any." that seemed to please the creature and it began walking around the cavern, making its way easily up the slope. while it was gone, trot and cap'n bill each took another sip from the water-flask, to wash down their breakfast. "why, here's a hole--an exit--an outlet!" exclaimed the ork from above. "we know," said trot. "we found it last night." "well, then, let's be off," continued the ork, after sticking its head into the black hole and sniffing once or twice. "the air seems fresh and sweet, and it can't lead us to any worse place than this." the girl and the sailor-man got up and climbed to the side of the ork. "we'd about decided to explore this hole before you came," explained cap'n bill; "but it's a dangerous place to navigate in the dark, so wait till i light a candle." "what is a candle?" inquired the ork. "you'll see in a minute," said trot. the old sailor drew one of the candles from his right-side pocket and the tin matchbox from his left-side pocket. when he lighted the match the ork gave a startled jump and eyed the flame suspiciously; but cap'n bill proceeded to light the candle and the action interested the ork very much. "light," it said, somewhat nervously, "is valuable in a hole of this sort. the candle is not dangerous, i hope?" "sometimes it burns your fingers," answered trot, "but that's about the worst it can do--'cept to blow out when you don't want it to." cap'n bill shielded the flame with his hand and crept into the hole. it wasn't any too big for a grown man, but after he had crawled a few feet it grew larger. trot came close behind him and then the ork followed. "seems like a reg'lar tunnel," muttered the sailor-man, who was creeping along awkwardly because of his wooden leg. the rocks, too, hurt his knees. for nearly half an hour the three moved slowly along the tunnel, which made many twists and turns and sometimes slanted downward and sometimes upward. finally cap'n bill stopped short, with an exclamation of disappointment, and held the flickering candle far ahead to light the scene. "what's wrong?" demanded trot, who could see nothing because the sailor's form completely filled the hole. "why, we've come to the end of our travels, i guess," he replied. "is the hole blocked?" inquired the ork. "no; it's wuss nor that," replied cap'n bill sadly. "i'm on the edge of a precipice. wait a minute an' i'll move along and let you see for yourselves. be careful, trot, not to fall." then he crept forward a little and moved to one side, holding the candle so that the girl could see to follow him. the ork came next and now all three knelt on a narrow ledge of rock which dropped straight away and left a huge black space which the tiny flame of the candle could not illuminate. "h-m!" said the ork, peering over the edge; "this doesn't look very promising, i'll admit. but let me take your candle, and i'll fly down and see what's below us." "aren't you afraid?" asked trot. "certainly i'm afraid," responded the ork. "but if we intend to escape we can't stay on this shelf forever. so, as i notice you poor creatures cannot fly, it is my duty to explore the place for you." cap'n bill handed the ork the candle, which had now burned to about half its length. the ork took it in one claw rather cautiously and then tipped its body forward and slipped over the edge. they heard a queer buzzing sound, as the tail revolved, and a brisk flapping of the peculiar wings, but they were more interested just then in following with their eyes the tiny speck of light which marked the location of the candle. this light first made a great circle, then dropped slowly downward and suddenly was extinguished, leaving everything before them black as ink. "hi, there! how did that happen?" cried the ork. "it blew out, i guess," shouted cap'n bill. "fetch it here." "i can't see where you are," said the ork. so cap'n bill got out another candle and lighted it, and its flame enabled the ork to fly back to them. it alighted on the edge and held out the bit of candle. "what made it stop burning?" asked the creature. "the wind," said trot. "you must be more careful, this time." "what's the place like?" inquired cap'n bill. "i don't know, yet; but there must be a bottom to it, so i'll try to find it." with this the ork started out again and this time sank downward more slowly. down, down, down it went, till the candle was a mere spark, and then it headed away to the left and trot and cap'n bill lost all sight of it. in a few minutes, however, they saw the spark of light again, and as the sailor still held the second lighted candle the ork made straight toward them. it was only a few yards distant when suddenly it dropped the candle with a cry of pain and next moment alighted, fluttering wildly, upon the rocky ledge. "what's the matter?" asked trot. "it bit me!" wailed the ork. "i don't like your candles. the thing began to disappear slowly as soon as i took it in my claw, and it grew smaller and smaller until just now it turned and bit me--a most unfriendly thing to do. oh--oh! ouch, what a bite!" "that's the nature of candles, i'm sorry to say," explained cap'n bill, with a grin. "you have to handle 'em mighty keerful. but tell us, what did you find down there?" "i found a way to continue our journey," said the ork, nursing tenderly the claw which had been burned. "just below us is a great lake of black water, which looked so cold and wicked that it made me shudder; but away at the left there's a big tunnel, which we can easily walk through. i don't know where it leads to, of course, but we must follow it and find out." "why, we can't get to it," protested the little girl. "we can't fly, as you do, you must remember." "no, that's true," replied the ork musingly. "your bodies are built very poorly, it seems to me, since all you can do is crawl upon the earth's surface. but you may ride upon my back, and in that way i can promise you a safe journey to the tunnel." "are you strong enough to carry us?" asked cap'n bill, doubtfully. "yes, indeed; i'm strong enough to carry a dozen of you, if you could find a place to sit," was the reply; "but there's only room between my wings for one at a time, so i'll have to make two trips." "all right; i'll go first," decided cap'n bill. he lit another candle for trot to hold while they were gone and to light the ork on his return to her, and then the old sailor got upon the ork's back, where he sat with his wooden leg sticking straight out sidewise. "if you start to fall, clasp your arms around my neck," advised the creature. "if i start to fall, it's good night an' pleasant dreams," said cap'n bill. "all ready?" asked the ork. "start the buzz-tail," said cap'n bill, with a tremble in his voice. but the ork flew away so gently that the old man never even tottered in his seat. trot watched the light of cap'n bill's candle till it disappeared in the far distance. she didn't like to be left alone on this dangerous ledge, with a lake of black water hundreds of feet below her; but she was a brave little girl and waited patiently for the return of the ork. it came even sooner than she had expected and the creature said to her: "your friend is safe in the tunnel. now, then, get aboard and i'll carry you to him in a jiffy." i'm sure not many little girls would have cared to take that awful ride through the huge black cavern on the back of a skinny ork. trot didn't care for it, herself, but it just had to be done and so she did it as courageously as possible. her heart beat fast and she was so nervous she could scarcely hold the candle in her fingers as the ork sped swiftly through the darkness. it seemed like a long ride to her, yet in reality the ork covered the distance in a wonderfully brief period of time and soon trot stood safely beside cap'n bill on the level floor of a big arched tunnel. the sailor-man was very glad to greet his little comrade again and both were grateful to the ork for his assistance. "i dunno where this tunnel leads to," remarked cap'n bill, "but it surely looks more promisin' than that other hole we crept through." "when the ork is rested," said trot, "we'll travel on and see what happens." "rested!" cried the ork, as scornfully as his shrill voice would allow. "that bit of flying didn't tire me at all. i'm used to flying days at a time, without ever once stopping." "then let's move on," proposed cap'n bill. he still held in his hand one lighted candle, so trot blew out the other flame and placed her candle in the sailor's big pocket. she knew it was not wise to burn two candles at once. the tunnel was straight and smooth and very easy to walk through, so they made good progress. trot thought that the tunnel began about two miles from the cavern where they had been cast by the whirlpool, but now it was impossible to guess the miles traveled, for they walked steadily for hours and hours without any change in their surroundings. finally cap'n bill stopped to rest. "there's somethin' queer about this 'ere tunnel, i'm certain," he declared, wagging his head dolefully. "here's three candles gone a'ready, an' only three more left us, yet the tunnel's the same as it was when we started. an' how long it's goin' to keep up, no one knows." "couldn't we walk without a light?" asked trot. "the way seems safe enough." "it does right now," was the reply, "but we can't tell when we are likely to come to another gulf, or somethin' jes' as dangerous. in that case we'd be killed afore we knew it." "suppose i go ahead?" suggested the ork. "i don't fear a fall, you know, and if anything happens i'll call out and warn you." "that's a good idea," declared trot, and cap'n bill thought so, too. so the ork started off ahead, quite in the dark, and hand in band the two followed him. when they had walked in this way for a good long time the ork halted and demanded food. cap'n bill had not mentioned food because there was so little left--only three biscuits and a lump of cheese about as big as his two fingers--but he gave the ork half of a biscuit, sighing as he did so. the creature didn't care for the cheese, so the sailor divided it between himself and trot. they lighted a candle and sat down in the tunnel while they ate. "my feet hurt me," grumbled the ork. "i'm not used to walking and this rocky passage is so uneven and lumpy that it hurts me to walk upon it." "can't you fly along?" asked trot. "no; the roof is too low," said the ork. after the meal they resumed their journey, which trot began to fear would never end. when cap'n bill noticed how tired the little girl was, he paused and lighted a match and looked at his big silver watch. "why, it's night!" he exclaimed. "we've tramped all day, an' still we're in this awful passage, which mebbe goes straight through the middle of the world, an' mebbe is a circle--in which case we can keep walkin' till doomsday. not knowin' what's before us so well as we know what's behind us, i propose we make a stop, now, an' try to sleep till mornin'." "that will suit me," asserted the ork, with a groan. "my feet are hurting me dreadfully and for the last few miles i've been limping with pain." "my foot hurts, too," said the sailor, looking for a smooth place on the rocky floor to sit down. "your foot!" cried the ork. "why, you've only one to hurt you, while i have four. so i suffer four times as much as you possibly can. here; hold the candle while i look at the bottoms of my claws. i declare," he said, examining them by the flickering light, "there are bunches of pain all over them!" "p'r'aps," said trot, who was very glad to sit down beside her companions, "you've got corns." "corns? nonsense! orks never have corns," protested the creature, rubbing its sore feet tenderly. "then mebbe they're--they're-what do you call 'em, cap'n bill? something 'bout the pilgrim's progress, you know." "bunions," said cap'n bill. "oh, yes; mebbe you've got bunions." "it is possible," moaned the ork. "but whatever they are, another day of such walking on them would drive me crazy." "i'm sure they'll feel better by mornin'," said cap'n bill, encouragingly. "go to sleep an' try to forget your sore feet." the ork cast a reproachful look at the sailor-man, who didn't see it. then the creature asked plaintively: "do we eat now, or do we starve?" "there's only half a biscuit left for you," answered cap'n bill. "no one knows how long we'll have to stay in this dark tunnel, where there's nothing whatever to eat; so i advise you to save that morsel o' food till later." "give it me now!" demanded the ork. "if i'm going to starve, i'll do it all at once--not by degrees." cap'n bill produced the biscuit and the creature ate it in a trice. trot was rather hungry and whispered to cap'n bill that she'd take part of her share; but the old man secretly broke his own half-biscuit in two, saving trot's share for a time of greater need. he was beginning to be worried over the little girl's plight and long after she was asleep and the ork was snoring in a rather disagreeable manner, cap'n bill sat with his back to a rock and smoked his pipe and tried to think of some way to escape from this seemingly endless tunnel. but after a time he also slept, for hobbling on a wooden leg all day was tiresome, and there in the dark slumbered the three adventurers for many hours, until the ork roused itself and kicked the old sailor with one foot. "it must be another day," said he. chapter four daylight at last cap'n bill rubbed his eyes, lit a match and consulted his watch. "nine o'clock. yes, i guess it's another day, sure enough. shall we go on?" he asked. "of course," replied the ork. "unless this tunnel is different from everything else in the world, and has no end, we'll find a way out of it sooner or later." the sailor gently wakened trot. she felt much rested by her long sleep and sprang to her feet eagerly. "let's start, cap'n," was all she said. they resumed the journey and had only taken a few steps when the ork cried "wow!" and made a great fluttering of its wings and whirling of its tail. the others, who were following a short distance behind, stopped abruptly. "what's the matter?" asked cap'n bill. "give us a light," was the reply. "i think we've come to the end of the tunnel." then, while cap'n bill lighted a candle, the creature added: "if that is true, we needn't have wakened so soon, for we were almost at the end of this place when we went to sleep." the sailor-man and trot came forward with a light. a wall of rock really faced the tunnel, but now they saw that the opening made a sharp turn to the left. so they followed on, by a narrower passage, and then made another sharp turn this time to the right. "blow out the light, cap'n," said the ork, in a pleased voice. "we've struck daylight." daylight at last! a shaft of mellow light fell almost at their feet as trot and the sailor turned the corner of the passage, but it came from above, and raising their eyes they found they were at the bottom of a deep, rocky well, with the top far, far above their heads. and here the passage ended. for a while they gazed in silence, at least two of them being filled with dismay at the sight. but the ork merely whistled softly and said cheerfully: "that was the toughest journey i ever had the misfortune to undertake, and i'm glad it's over. yet, unless i can manage to fly to the top of this pit, we are entombed here forever." "do you think there is room enough for you to fly in?" asked the little girl anxiously; and cap'n bill added: "it's a straight-up shaft, so i don't see how you'll ever manage it." "were i an ordinary bird--one of those horrid feathered things--i wouldn't even make the attempt to fly out," said the ork. "but my mechanical propeller tail can accomplish wonders, and whenever you're ready i'll show you a trick that is worth while." "oh!" exclaimed trot; "do you intend to take us up, too?" "why not?" "i thought," said cap'n bill, "as you'd go first, an' then send somebody to help us by lettin' down a rope." "ropes are dangerous," replied the ork, "and i might not be able to find one to reach all this distance. besides, it stands to reason that if i can get out myself i can also carry you two with me." "well, i'm not afraid," said trot, who longed to be on the earth's surface again. "s'pose we fall?" suggested cap'n bill, doubtfully. "why, in that case we would all fall together," returned the ork. "get aboard, little girl; sit across my shoulders and put both your arms around my neck." trot obeyed and when she was seated on the ork, cap'n bill inquired: "how 'bout me, mr. ork?" "why, i think you'd best grab hold of my rear legs and let me carry you up in that manner," was the reply. cap'n bill looked way up at the top of the well, and then he looked at the ork's slender, skinny legs and heaved a deep sigh. "it's goin' to be some dangle, i guess; but if you don't waste too much time on the way up, i may be able to hang on," said he. "all ready, then!" cried the ork, and at once his whirling tail began to revolve. trot felt herself rising into the air; when the creature's legs left the ground cap'n bill grasped two of them firmly and held on for dear life. the ork's body was tipped straight upward, and trot had to embrace the neck very tightly to keep from sliding off. even in this position the ork had trouble in escaping the rough sides of the well. several times it exclaimed "wow!" as it bumped its back, or a wing hit against some jagged projection; but the tail kept whirling with remarkable swiftness and the daylight grew brighter and brighter. it was, indeed, a long journey from the bottom to the top, yet almost before trot realized they had come so far, they popped out of the hole into the clear air and sunshine and a moment later the ork alighted gently upon the ground. the release was so sudden that even with the creature's care for its passengers cap'n bill struck the earth with a shock that sent him rolling heel over head; but by the time trot had slid down from her seat the old sailor-man was sitting up and looking around him with much satisfaction. "it's sort o' pretty here," said he. "earth is a beautiful place!" cried trot. "i wonder where on earth we are?" pondered the ork, turning first one bright eye and then the other to this side and that. trees there were, in plenty, and shrubs and flowers and green turf. but there were no houses; there were no paths; there was no sign of civilization whatever. "just before i settled down on the ground i thought i caught a view of the ocean," said the ork. "let's see if i was right." then he flew to a little hill, near by, and trot and cap'n bill followed him more slowly. when they stood on the top of the hill they could see the blue waves of the ocean in front of them, to the right of them, and at the left of them. behind the hill was a forest that shut out the view. "i hope it ain't an island, trot," said cap'n bill gravely. "if it is, i s'pose we're prisoners," she replied. "ezzackly so, trot." "but, 'even so, it's better than those terr'ble underground tunnels and caverns," declared the girl. "you are right, little one," agreed the ork. "anything above ground is better than the best that lies under ground. so let's not quarrel with our fate but be thankful we've escaped." "we are, indeed!" she replied. "but i wonder if we can find something to eat in this place?" "let's explore an' find out," proposed cap'n bill. "those trees over at the left look like cherry-trees." on the way to them the explorers had to walk through a tangle of vines and cap'n bill, who went first, stumbled and pitched forward on his face. "why, it's a melon!" cried trot delightedly, as she saw what had caused the sailor to fall. cap'n bill rose to his foot, for he was not at all hurt, and examined the melon. then he took his big jackknife from his pocket and cut the melon open. it was quite ripe and looked delicious; but the old man tasted it before he permitted trot to eat any. deciding it was good he gave her a big slice and then offered the ork some. the creature looked at the fruit somewhat disdainfully, at first, but once he had tasted its flavor he ate of it as heartily as did the others. among the vines they discovered many other melons, and trot said gratefully: "well, there's no danger of our starving, even if this is an island." "melons," remarked cap'n bill, "are both food an' water. we couldn't have struck anything better." farther on they came to the cherry trees, where they obtained some of the fruit, and at the edge of the little forest were wild plums. the forest itself consisted entirely of nut trees--walnuts, filberts, almonds and chestnuts--so there would be plenty of wholesome food for them while they remained there. cap'n bill and trot decided to walk through the forest, to discover what was on the other side of it, but the ork's feet were still so sore and "lumpy" from walking on the rocks that the creature said he preferred to fly over the tree-tops and meet them on the other side. the forest was not large, so by walking briskly for fifteen minutes they reached its farthest edge and saw before them the shore of the ocean. "it's an island, all right," said trot, with a sigh. "yes, and a pretty island, too," said cap'n bill, trying to conceal his disappointment on trot's account. "i guess, partner, if the wuss comes to the wuss, i could build a raft--or even a boat--from those trees, so's we could sail away in it." the little girl brightened at this suggestion. "i don't see the ork anywhere," she remarked, looking around. then her eyes lighted upon something and she exclaimed: "oh, cap'n bill! isn't that a house, over there to the left?" cap'n bill, looking closely, saw a shed-like structure built at one edge of the forest. "seems like it, trot. not that i'd call it much of a house, but it's a buildin', all right. let's go over an' see if it's occypied." chapter five the little old man of the island a few steps brought them to the shed, which was merely a roof of boughs built over a square space, with some branches of trees fastened to the sides to keep off the wind. the front was quite open and faced the sea, and as our friends came nearer they observed a little man, with a long pointed beard, sitting motionless on a stool and staring thoughtfully out over the water. "get out of the way, please," he called in a fretful voice. "can't you see you are obstructing my view?" "good morning," said cap'n bill, politely. "it isn't a good morning!" snapped the little man. "i've seen plenty of mornings better than this. do you call it a good morning when i'm pestered with such a crowd as you?" trot was astonished to hear such words from a stranger whom they had greeted quite properly, and cap'n bill grew red at the little man's rudeness. but the sailor said, in a quiet tone of voice: "are you the only one as lives on this 'ere island?" "your grammar's bad," was the reply. "but this is my own exclusive island, and i'll thank you to get off it as soon as possible." "we'd like to do that," said trot, and then she and cap'n bill turned away and walked down to the shore, to see if any other land was in sight. the little man rose and followed them, although both were now too provoked to pay any attention to him. "nothin' in sight, partner," reported cap'n bill, shading his eyes with his hand; "so we'll have to stay here for a time, anyhow. it isn't a bad place, trot, by any means." "that's all you know about it!" broke in the little man. "the trees are altogether too green and the rocks are harder than they ought to be. i find the sand very grainy and the water dreadfully wet. every breeze makes a draught and the sun shines in the daytime, when there's no need of it, and disappears just as soon as it begins to get dark. if you remain here you'll find the island very unsatisfactory." trot turned to look at him, and her sweet face was grave and curious. "i wonder who you are," she said. "my name is pessim," said he, with an air of pride. "i'm called the observer." "oh. what do you observe?" asked the little girl. "everything i see," was the reply, in a more surly tone. then pessim drew back with a startled exclamation and looked at some footprints in the sand. "why, good gracious me!" he cried in distress. "what's the matter now?" asked cap'n bill. "someone has pushed the earth in! don't you see it? "it isn't pushed in far enough to hurt anything," said trot, examining the footprints. "everything hurts that isn't right," insisted the man. "if the earth were pushed in a mile, it would be a great calamity, wouldn't it?" "i s'pose so," admitted the little girl. "well, here it is pushed in a full inch! that's a twelfth of a foot, or a little more than a millionth part of a mile. therefore it is one-millionth part of a calamity--oh, dear! how dreadful!" said pessim in a wailing voice. "try to forget it, sir," advised cap'n bill, soothingly. "it's beginning to rain. let's get under your shed and keep dry." "raining! is it really raining?" asked pessim, beginning to weep. "it is," answered cap'n bill, as the drops began to descend, "and i don't see any way to stop it--although i'm some observer myself." "no; we can't stop it, i fear," said the man. "are you very busy just now?" "i won't be after i get to the shed," replied the sailor-man. "then do me a favor, please," begged pessim, walking briskly along behind them, for they were hastening to the shed. "depends on what it is," said cap'n bill. "i wish you would take my umbrella down to the shore and hold it over the poor fishes till it stops raining. i'm afraid they'll get wet," said pessim. trot laughed, but cap'n bill thought the little man was poking fun at him and so he scowled upon pessim in a way that showed he was angry. they reached the shed before getting very wet, although the rain was now coming down in big drops. the roof of the shed protected them and while they stood watching the rainstorm something buzzed in and circled around pessim's head. at once the observer began beating it away with his hands, crying out: "a bumblebee! a bumblebee! the queerest bumblebee i ever saw!" cap'n bill and trot both looked at it and the little girl said in surprise: "dear me! it's a wee little ork!" "that's what it is, sure enough," exclaimed cap'n bill. really, it wasn't much bigger than a big bumblebee, and when it came toward trot she allowed it to alight on her shoulder. "it's me, all right," said a very small voice in her ear; "but i'm in an awful pickle, just the same!" "what, are you our ork, then?" demanded the girl, much amazed. "no, i'm my own ork. but i'm the only ork you know," replied the tiny creature. "what's happened to you?" asked the sailor, putting his head close to trot's shoulder in order to hear the reply better. pessim also put his head close, and the ork said: "you will remember that when i left you i started to fly over the trees, and just as i got to this side of the forest i saw a bush that was loaded down with the most luscious fruit you can imagine. the fruit was about the size of a gooseberry and of a lovely lavender color. so i swooped down and picked off one in my bill and ate it. at once i began to grow small. i could feel myself shrinking, shrinking away, and it frightened me terribly, so that i lighted on the ground to think over what was happening. in a few seconds i had shrunk to the size you now see me; but there i remained, getting no smaller, indeed, but no larger. it is certainly a dreadful affliction! after i had recovered somewhat from the shock i began to search for you. it is not so easy to find one's way when a creature is so small, but fortunately i spied you here in this shed and came to you at once." cap'n bill and trot were much astonished at this story and felt grieved for the poor ork, but the little man pessim seemed to think it a good joke. he began laughing when he heard the story and laughed until he choked, after which he lay down on the ground and rolled and laughed again, while the tears of merriment coursed down his wrinkled cheeks. "oh, dear! oh, dear!" he finally gasped, sitting up and wiping his eyes. "this is too rich! it's almost too joyful to be true." "i don't see anything funny about it," remarked trot indignantly. "you would if you'd had my experience," said pessim, getting upon his feet and gradually resuming his solemn and dissatisfied expression of countenance. "the same thing happened to me." "oh, did it? and how did you happen to come to this island?" asked the girl. "i didn't come; the neighbors brought me," replied the little man, with a frown at the recollection. "they said i was quarrelsome and fault-finding and blamed me because i told them all the things that went wrong, or never were right, and because i told them how things ought to be. so they brought me here and left me all alone, saying that if i quarreled with myself, no one else would be made unhappy. absurd, wasn't it?" "seems to me," said cap'n bill, "those neighbors did the proper thing." "well," resumed pessim, "when i found myself king of this island i was obliged to live upon fruits, and i found many fruits growing here that i had never seen before. i tasted several and found them good and wholesome. but one day i ate a lavender berry--as the ork did--and immediately i grew so small that i was scarcely two inches high. it was a very unpleasant condition and like the ork i became frightened. i could not walk very well nor very far, for every lump of earth in my way seemed a mountain, every blade of grass a tree and every grain of sand a rocky boulder. for several days i stumbled around in an agony of fear. once a tree toad nearly gobbled me up, and if i ran out from the shelter of the bushes the gulls and cormorants swooped down upon me. finally i decided to eat another berry and become nothing at all, since life, to one as small as i was, had become a dreary nightmare. "at last i found a small tree that i thought bore the same fruit as that i had eaten. the berry was dark purple instead of light lavender, but otherwise it was quite similar. being unable to climb the tree, i was obliged to wait underneath it until a sharp breeze arose and shook the limbs so that a berry fell. instantly i seized it and taking a last view of the world--as i then thought--i ate the berry in a twinkling. then, to my surprise, i began to grow big again, until i became of my former stature, and so i have since remained. needless to say, i have never eaten again of the lavender fruit, nor do any of the beasts or birds that live upon this island eat it." they had all three listened eagerly to this amazing tale, and when it was finished the ork exclaimed: "do you think, then, that the deep purple berry is the antidote for the lavender one?" "i'm sure of it," answered pessim. "then lead me to the tree at once!" begged the ork, "for this tiny form i now have terrifies me greatly." pessim examined the ork closely "you are ugly enough as you are," said he. "were you any larger you might be dangerous." "oh, no," trot assured him; "the ork has been our good friend. please take us to the tree." then pessim consented, although rather reluctantly. he led them to the right, which was the east side of the island, and in a few minutes brought them near to the edge of the grove which faced the shore of the ocean. here stood a small tree bearing berries of a deep purple color. the fruit looked very enticing and cap'n bill reached up and selected one that seemed especially plump and ripe. the ork had remained perched upon trot's shoulder but now it flew down to the ground. it was so difficult for cap'n bill to kneel down, with his wooden leg, that the little girl took the berry from him and held it close to the ork's head. "it's too big to go into my mouth," said the little creature, looking at the fruit sidewise. "you'll have to make sev'ral mouthfuls of it, i guess," said trot; and that is what the ork did. he pecked at the soft, ripe fruit with his bill and ate it up very quickly, because it was good. even before he had finished the berry they could see the ork begin to grow. in a few minutes he had regained his natural size and was strutting before them, quite delighted with his transformation. "well, well! what do you think of me now?" he asked proudly. "you are very skinny and remarkably ugly," declared pessim. "you are a poor judge of orks," was the reply. "anyone can see that i'm much handsomer than those dreadful things called birds, which are all fluff and feathers." "their feathers make soft beds," asserted pessim. "and my skin would make excellent drumheads," retorted the ork. "nevertheless, a plucked bird or a skinned ork would be of no value to himself, so we needn't brag of our usefulness after we are dead. but for the sake of argument, friend pessim, i'd like to know what good you would be, were you not alive?" "never mind that," said cap'n bill. "he isn't much good as he is." "i am king of this island, allow me to say, and you're intruding on my property," declared the little man, scowling upon them. "if you don't like me--and i'm sure you don't, for no one else does--why don't you go away and leave me to myself?" "well, the ork can fly, but we can't," explained trot, in answer. "we don't want to stay here a bit, but i don't see how we can get away." "you can go back into the hole you came from." cap'n bill shook his head; trot shuddered at the thought; the ork laughed aloud. "you may be king here," the creature said to pessim, "but we intend to run this island to suit ourselves, for we are three and you are one, and the balance of power lies with us." the little man made no reply to this, although as they walked back to the shed his face wore its fiercest scowl. cap'n bill gathered a lot of leaves and, assisted by trot, prepared two nice beds in opposite corners of the shed. pessim slept in a hammock which he swung between two trees. they required no dishes, as all their food consisted of fruits and nuts picked from the trees; they made no fire, for the weather was warm and there was nothing to cook; the shed had no furniture other than the rude stool which the little man was accustomed to sit upon. he called it his "throne" and they let him keep it. so they lived upon the island for three days, and rested and ate to their hearts' content. still, they were not at all happy in this life because of pessim. he continually found fault with them, and all that they did, and all their surroundings. he could see nothing good or admirable in all the world and trot soon came to understand why the little man's former neighbors had brought him to this island and left him there, all alone, so he could not annoy anyone. it was their misfortune that they had been led to this place by their adventures, for often they would have preferred the company of a wild beast to that of pessim. on the fourth day a happy thought came to the ork. they had all been racking their brains for a possible way to leave the island, and discussing this or that method, without finding a plan that was practical. cap'n bill had said he could make a raft of the trees, big enough to float them all, but he had no tools except those two pocketknives and it was not possible to chop down tree with such small blades. "and s'pose we got afloat on the ocean," said trot, "where would we drift to, and how long would it take us to get there?" cap'n bill was forced to admit he didn't know. the ork could fly away from the island any time it wished to, but the queer creature was loyal to his new friends and refused to leave them in such a lonely, forsaken place. it was when trot urged him to go, on this fourth morning, that the ork had his happy thought. "i will go," said he, "if you two will agree to ride upon my back." "we are too heavy; you might drop us," objected cap'n bill. "yes, you are rather heavy for a long journey," acknowledged the ork, "but you might eat of those lavender berries and become so small that i could carry you with ease." this quaint suggestion startled trot and she looked gravely at the speaker while she considered it, but cap'n bill gave a scornful snort and asked: "what would become of us afterward? we wouldn't be much good if we were some two or three inches high. no, mr. ork, i'd rather stay here, as i am, than be a hop-o'-my-thumb somewhere else." "why couldn't you take some of the dark purple berries along with you, to eat after we had reached our destination?" inquired the ork. "then you could grow big again whenever you pleased." trot clapped her hands with delight. "that's it!" she exclaimed. "let's do it, cap'n bill." the old sailor did not like the idea at first, but he thought it over carefully and the more he thought the better it seemed. "how could you manage to carry us, if we were so small?" he asked. "i could put you in a paper bag, and tie the bag around my neck." "but we haven't a paper bag," objected trot. the ork looked at her. "there's your sunbonnet," it said presently, "which is hollow in the middle and has two strings that you could tie around my neck." trot took off her sunbonnet and regarded it critically. yes, it might easily hold both her and cap'n bill, after they had eaten the lavender berries and been reduced in size. she tied the strings around the ork's neck and the sunbonnet made a bag in which two tiny people might ride without danger of falling out. so she said: "i b'lieve we'll do it that way, cap'n." cap'n bill groaned but could make no logical objection except that the plan seemed to him quite dangerous--and dangerous in more ways than one. "i think so, myself," said trot soberly. "but nobody can stay alive without getting into danger sometimes, and danger doesn't mean getting hurt, cap'n; it only means we might get hurt. so i guess we'll have to take the risk." "let's go and find the berries," said the ork. they said nothing to pessim, who was sitting on his stool and scowling dismally as he stared at the ocean, but started at once to seek the trees that bore the magic fruits. the ork remembered very well where the lavender berries grew and led his companions quickly to the spot. cap'n bill gathered two berries and placed them carefully in his pocket. then they went around to the east side of the island and found the tree that bore the dark purple berries. "i guess i'll take four of these," said the sailor-man, "so in case one doesn't make us grow big we can eat another." "better take six," advised the ork. "it's well to be on the safe side, and i'm sure these trees grow nowhere else in all the world." so cap'n bill gathered six of the purple berries and with their precious fruit they returned to the shed to big good-bye to pessim. perhaps they would not have granted the surly little man this courtesy had they not wished to use him to tie the sunbonnet around the ork's neck. when pessim learned they were about to leave him he at first looked greatly pleased, but he suddenly recollected that nothing ought to please him and so began to grumble about being left alone. "we knew it wouldn't suit you," remarked cap'n bill. "it didn't suit you to have us here, and it won't suit you to have us go away." "that is quite true," admitted pessim. "i haven't been suited since i can remember; so it doesn't matter to me in the least whether you go or stay." he was interested in their experiment, however, and willingly agreed to assist, although he prophesied they would fall out of the sunbonnet on their way and be either drowned in the ocean or crushed upon some rocky shore. this uncheerful prospect did not daunt trot, but it made cap'n bill quite nervous. "i will eat my berry first," said trot, as she placed her sunbonnet on the ground, in such manner that they could get into it. then she ate the lavender berry and in a few seconds became so small that cap'n bill picked her up gently with his thumb and one finger and placed her in the middle of the sunbonnet. then he placed beside her the six purple berries--each one being about as big as the tiny trot's head--and all preparations being now made the old sailor ate his lavender berry and became very small--wooden leg and all! cap'n bill stumbled sadly in trying to climb over the edge of the sunbonnet and pitched in beside trot headfirst, which caused the unhappy pessim to laugh with glee. then the king of the island picked up the sunbonnet--so rudely that he shook its occupants like peas in a pod--and tied it, by means of its strings, securely around the ork's neck. "i hope, trot, you sewed those strings on tight," said cap'n bill anxiously. "why, we are not very heavy, you know," she replied, "so i think the stitches will hold. but be careful and not crush the berries, cap'n." "one is jammed already," he said, looking at them. "all ready?" asked the ork. "yes!" they cried together, and pessim came close to the sunbonnet and called out to them: "you'll be smashed or drowned, i'm sure you will! but farewell, and good riddance to you." the ork was provoked by this unkind speech, so he turned his tail toward the little man and made it revolve so fast that the rush of air tumbled pessim over backward and he rolled several times upon the ground before he could stop himself and sit up. by that time the ork was high in the air and speeding swiftly over the ocean. chapter six the flight of the midgets cap'n bill and trot rode very comfortably in the sunbonnet. the motion was quite steady, for they weighed so little that the ork flew without effort. yet they were both somewhat nervous about their future fate and could not help wishing they were safe on land and their natural size again. "you're terr'ble small, trot," remarked cap'n bill, looking at his companion. "same to you, cap'n," she said with a laugh; "but as long as we have the purple berries we needn't worry about our size." "in a circus," mused the old man, "we'd be curiosities. but in a sunbonnet--high up in the air--sailin' over a big, unknown ocean--they ain't no word in any booktionary to describe us." "why, we're midgets, that's all," said the little girl. the ork flew silently for a long time. the slight swaying of the sunbonnet made cap'n bill drowsy, and he began to doze. trot, however, was wide awake, and after enduring the monotonous journey as long as she was able she called out: "don't you see land anywhere, mr. ork?" "not yet," he answered. "this is a big ocean and i've no idea in which direction the nearest land to that island lies; but if i keep flying in a straight line i'm sure to reach some place some time." that seemed reasonable, so the little people in the sunbonnet remained as patient as possible; that is, cap'n bill dozed and trot tried to remember her geography lessons so she could figure out what land they were likely to arrive at. for hours and hours the ork flew steadily, keeping to the straight line and searching with his eyes the horizon of the ocean for land. cap'n bill was fast asleep and snoring and trot had laid her head on his shoulder to rest it when suddenly the ork exclaimed: "there! i've caught a glimpse of land, at last." at this announcement they roused themselves. cap'n bill stood up and tried to peek over the edge of the sunbonnet. "what does it look like?" he inquired. "looks like another island," said the ork; "but i can judge it better in a minute or two." "i don't care much for islands, since we visited that other one," declared trot. soon the ork made another announcement. "it is surely an island, and a little one, too," said he. "but i won't stop, because i see a much bigger land straight ahead of it." "that's right," approved cap'n bill. "the bigger the land, the better it will suit us." "it's almost a continent," continued the ork after a brief silence, during which he did not decrease the speed of his flight. "i wonder if it can be orkland, the place i have been seeking so long?" "i hope not," whispered trot to cap'n bill--so softly that the ork could not hear her--"for i shouldn't like to be in a country where only orks live. this one ork isn't a bad companion, but a lot of him wouldn't be much fun." after a few more minutes of flying the ork called out in a sad voice: "no! this is not my country. it's a place i have never seen before, although i have wandered far and wide. it seems to be all mountains and deserts and green valleys and queer cities and lakes and rivers--mixed up in a very puzzling way." "most countries are like that," commented cap'n bill. "are you going to land?" "pretty soon," was the reply. "there is a mountain peak just ahead of me. what do you say to our landing on that?" "all right," agreed the sailor-man, for both he and trot were getting tired of riding in the sunbonnet and longed to set foot on solid ground again. so in a few minutes the ork slowed down his speed and then came to a stop so easily that they were scarcely jarred at all. then the creature squatted down until the sunbonnet rested on the ground, and began trying to unfasten with its claws the knotted strings. this proved a very clumsy task, because the strings were tied at the back of the ork's neck, just where his claws would not easily reach. after much fumbling he said: "i'm afraid i can't let you out, and there is no one near to help me." this was at first discouraging, but after a little thought cap'n bill said: "if you don't mind, trot, i can cut a slit in your sunbonnet with my knife." "do," she replied. "the slit won't matter, 'cause i can sew it up again afterward, when i am big." so cap'n bill got out his knife, which was just as small, in proportion, as he was, and after considerable trouble managed to cut a long slit in the sunbonnet. first he squeezed through the opening himself and then helped trot to get out. when they stood on firm ground again their first act was to begin eating the dark purple berries which they had brought with them. two of these trot had guarded carefully during the long journey, by holding them in her lap, for their safety meant much to the tiny people. "i'm not very hungry," said the little girl as she handed a berry to cap'n bill, "but hunger doesn't count, in this case. it's like taking medicine to make you well, so we must manage to eat 'em, somehow or other." but the berries proved quite pleasant to taste and as cap'n bill and trot nibbled at their edges their forms began to grow in size--slowly but steadily. the bigger they grew the easier it was for them to eat the berries, which of course became smaller to them, and by the time the fruit was eaten our friends had regained their natural size. the little girl was greatly relieved when she found herself as large as she had ever been, and cap'n bill shared her satisfaction; for, although they had seen the effect of the berries on the ork, they had not been sure the magic fruit would have the same effect on human beings, or that the magic would work in any other country than that in which the berries grew. "what shall we do with the other four berries?" asked trot, as she picked up her sunbonnet, marveling that she had ever been small enough to ride in it. "they're no good to us now, are they, cap'n?" "i'm not sure as to that," he replied. "if they were eaten by one who had never eaten the lavender berries, they might have no effect at all; but then, contrarywise, they might. one of 'em has got badly jammed, so i'll throw it away, but the other three i b'lieve i'll carry with me. they're magic things, you know, and may come handy to us some time." he now searched in his big pockets and drew out a small wooden box with a sliding cover. the sailor had kept an assortment of nails, of various sizes, in this box, but those he now dumped loosely into his pocket and in the box placed the three sound purple berries. when this important matter was attended to they found time to look about them and see what sort of place the ork had landed them in. chapter seven the bumpy man the mountain on which they had alighted was not a barren waste, but had on its sides patches of green grass, some bushes, a few slender trees and here and there masses of tumbled rocks. the sides of the slope seemed rather steep, but with care one could climb up or down them with ease and safety. the view from where they now stood showed pleasant valleys and fertile hills lying below the heights. trot thought she saw some houses of queer shapes scattered about the lower landscape, and there were moving dots that might be people or animals, yet were too far away for her to see them clearly. not far from the place where they stood was the top of the mountain, which seemed to be flat, so the ork proposed to his companions that he would fly up and see what was there. "that's a good idea," said trot, "'cause it's getting toward evening and we'll have to find a place to sleep." the ork had not been gone more than a few minutes when they saw him appear on the edge of the top which was nearest them. "come on up!" he called. so trot and cap'n bill began to ascend the steep slope and it did not take them long to reach the place where the ork awaited them. their first view of the mountain top pleased them very much. it was a level space of wider extent than they had guessed and upon it grew grass of a brilliant green color. in the very center stood a house built of stone and very neatly constructed. no one was in sight, but smoke was coming from the chimney, so with one accord all three began walking toward the house. "i wonder," said trot, "in what country we are, and if it's very far from my home in california." "can't say as to that, partner," answered cap'n bill, "but i'm mighty certain we've come a long way since we struck that whirlpool." "yes," she agreed, with a sigh, "it must be miles and miles!" "distance means nothing," said the ork. "i have flown pretty much all over the world, trying to find my home, and it is astonishing how many little countries there are, hidden away in the cracks and corners of this big globe of earth. if one travels, he may find some new country at every turn, and a good many of them have never yet been put upon the maps." "p'raps this is one of them," suggested trot. they reached the house after a brisk walk and cap'n bill knocked upon the door. it was at once opened by a rugged looking man who had "bumps all over him," as trot afterward declared. there were bumps on his head, bumps on his body and bumps on his arms and legs and hands. even his fingers had bumps on the ends of them. for dress he wore an old gray suit of fantastic design, which fitted him very badly because of the bumps it covered but could not conceal. but the bumpy man's eyes were kind and twinkling in expression and as soon as he saw his visitors he bowed low and said in a rather bumpy voice: "happy day! come in and shut the door, for it grows cool when the sun goes down. winter is now upon us." "why, it isn't cold a bit, outside," said trot, "so it can't be winter yet." "you will change your mind about that in a little while," declared the bumpy man. "my bumps always tell me the state of the weather, and they feel just now as if a snowstorm was coming this way. but make yourselves at home, strangers. supper is nearly ready and there is food enough for all." inside the house there was but one large room, simply but comfortably furnished. it had benches, a table and a fireplace, all made of stone. on the hearth a pot was bubbling and steaming, and trot thought it had a rather nice smell. the visitors seated themselves upon the benches--except the ork. which squatted by the fireplace--and the bumpy man began stirring the kettle briskly. "may i ask what country this is, sir?" inquired cap'n bill. "goodness me--fruit-cake and apple-sauce!--don't you know where you are?" asked the bumpy man, as he stopped stirring and looked at the speaker in surprise. "no," admitted cap'n bill. "we've just arrived." "lost your way?" questioned the bumpy man. "not exactly," said cap'n bill. "we didn't have any way to lose." "ah!" said the bumpy man, nodding his bumpy head. "this," he announced, in a solemn, impressive voice, "is the famous land of mo." "oh!" exclaimed the sailor and the girl, both in one breath. but, never having heard of the land of mo, they were no wiser than before. "i thought that would startle you," remarked the bumpy man, well pleased, as he resumed his stirring. the ork watched him a while in silence and then asked: "who may you be?" "me?" answered the bumpy man. "haven't you heard of me? gingerbread and lemon-juice! i'm known, far and wide, as the mountain ear." they all received this information in silence at first, for they were trying to think what he could mean. finally trot mustered up courage to ask: "what is a mountain ear, please?" for answer the man turned around and faced them, waving the spoon with which he had been stirring the kettle, as he recited the following verses in a singsong tone of voice: "here's a mountain, hard of hearing, that's sad-hearted and needs cheering, so my duty is to listen to all sounds that nature makes, so the hill won't get uneasy- get to coughing, or get sneezy- for this monster bump, when frightened, is quite liable to quakes. "you can hear a bell that's ringing; i can feel some people's singing; but a mountain isn't sensible of what goes on, and so when i hear a blizzard blowing or it's raining hard, or snowing, i tell it to the mountain and the mountain seems to know. "thus i benefit all people while i'm living on this steeple, for i keep the mountain steady so my neighbors all may thrive. with my list'ning and my shouting i prevent this mount from spouting, and that makes me so important that i'm glad that i'm alive." when he had finished these lines of verse the bumpy man turned again to resume his stirring. the ork laughed softly and cap'n bill whistled to himself and trot made up her mind that the mountain ear must be a little crazy. but the bumpy man seemed satisfied that he had explained his position fully and presently he placed four stone plates upon the table and then lifted the kettle from the fire and poured some of its contents on each of the plates. cap'n bill and trot at once approached the table, for they were hungry, but when she examined her plate the little girl exclaimed: "why, it's molasses candy!" "to be sure," returned the bumpy man, with a pleasant smile. "eat it quick, while it's hot, for it cools very quickly this winter weather." with this he seized a stone spoon and began putting the hot molasses candy into his mouth, while the others watched him in astonishment. "doesn't it burn you?" asked the girl. "no indeed," said he. "why don't you eat? aren't you hungry?" "yes," she replied, "i am hungry. but we usually eat our candy when it is cold and hard. we always pull molasses candy before we eat it." "ha, ha, ha!" laughed the mountain ear. "what a funny idea! where in the world did you come from?" "california," she said. "california! pooh! there isn't any such place. i've heard of every place in the land of mo, but i never before heard of california." "it isn't in the land of mo," she explained. "then it isn't worth talking about," declared the bumpy man, helping himself again from the steaming kettle, for he had been eating all the time he talked. "for my part," sighed cap'n bill, "i'd like a decent square meal, once more, just by way of variety. in the last place there was nothing but fruit to eat, and here it's worse, for there's nothing but candy." "molasses candy isn't so bad," said trot. "mine's nearly cool enough to pull, already. wait a bit, cap'n, and you can eat it." a little later she was able to gather the candy from the stone plate and begin to work it back and forth with her hands. the mountain ear was greatly amazed at this and watched her closely. it was really good candy and pulled beautifully, so that trot was soon ready to cut it into chunks for eating. cap'n bill condescended to eat one or two pieces and the ork ate several, but the bumpy man refused to try it. trot finished the plate of candy herself and then asked for a drink of water. "water?" said the mountain ear wonderingly. "what is that?" "something to drink. don't you have water in mo?" "none that ever i heard of," said he. "but i can give you some fresh lemonade. i caught it in a jar the last time it rained, which was only day before yesterday." "oh, does it rain lemonade here?" she inquired. "always; and it is very refreshing and healthful." with this he brought from a cupboard a stone jar and a dipper, and the girl found it very nice lemonade, indeed. cap'n bill liked it, too; but the ork would not touch it. "if there is no water in this country, i cannot stay here for long," the creature declared. "water means life to man and beast and bird." "there must be water in lemonade," said trot. "yes," answered the ork, "i suppose so; but there are other things in it, too, and they spoil the good water." the day's adventures had made our wanderers tired, so the bumpy man brought them some blankets in which they rolled themselves and then lay down before the fire, which their host kept alive with fuel all through the night. trot wakened several times and found the mountain ear always alert and listening intently for the slightest sound. but the little girl could hear no sound at all except the snores of cap'n bill. chapter eight button-bright is lost and found again "wake up--wake up!" called the voice of the bumpy man. "didn't i tell you winter was coming? i could hear it coming with my left ear, and the proof is that it is now snowing hard outside." "is it?" said trot, rubbing her eyes and creeping out of her blanket. "where i live, in california, i have never seen snow, except far away on the tops of high mountains." "well, this is the top of a high mountain," returned the bumpy one, "and for that reason we get our heaviest snowfalls right here." the little girl went to the window and looked out. the air was filled with falling white flakes, so large in size and so queer in form that she was puzzled. "are you certain this is snow?" she asked. "to be sure. i must get my snow-shovel and turn out to shovel a path. would you like to come with me?" "yes," she said, and followed the bumpy man out when he opened the door. then she exclaimed: "why, it isn't cold a bit!" "of course not," replied the man. "it was cold last night, before the snowstorm; but snow, when it falls, is always crisp and warm." trot gathered a handful of it. "why, it's popcorn?" she cried. "certainly; all snow is popcorn. what did you expect it to be?" "popcorn is not snow in my country." "well, it is the only snow we have in the land of mo, so you may as well make the best of it," said he, a little impatiently. "i'm not responsible for the absurd things that happen in your country, and when you're in mo you must do as the momen do. eat some of our snow, and you will find it is good. the only fault i find with our snow is that we get too much of it at times." with this the bumpy man set to work shoveling a path and he was so quick and industrious that he piled up the popcorn in great banks on either side of the trail that led to the mountain-top from the plains below. while he worked, trot ate popcorn and found it crisp and slightly warm, as well as nicely salted and buttered. presently cap'n bill came out of the house and joined her. "what's this?" he asked. "mo snow," said she. "but it isn't real snow, although it falls from the sky. it's popcorn." cap'n bill tasted it; then he sat down in the path and began to eat. the ork came out and pecked away with its bill as fast as it could. they all liked popcorn and they all were hungry this morning. meantime the flakes of "mo snow" came down so fast that the number of them almost darkened the air. the bumpy man was now shoveling quite a distance down the mountain-side, while the path behind him rapidly filled up with fresh-fallen popcorn. suddenly trot heard him call out: "goodness gracious--mince pie and pancakes!--here is some one buried in the snow." she ran toward him at once and the others followed, wading through the corn and crunching it underneath their feet. the mo snow was pretty deep where the bumpy man was shoveling and from beneath a great bank of it he had uncovered a pair of feet. "dear me! someone has been lost in the storm," said cap'n bill. "i hope he is still alive. let's pull him out and see." he took hold of one foot and the bumpy man took hold of the other. then they both pulled and out from the heap of popcorn came a little boy. he was dressed in a brown velvet jacket and knickerbockers, with brown stockings, buckled shoes and a blue shirt-waist that had frills down its front. when drawn from the heap the boy was chewing a mouthful of popcorn and both his hands were full of it. so at first he couldn't speak to his rescuers but lay quite still and eyed them calmly until he had swallowed his mouthful. then he said: "get my cap," and stuffed more popcorn into his mouth. while the bumpy man began shoveling into the corn-bank to find the boy's cap, trot was laughing joyfully and cap'n bill had a broad grin on his face. the ork looked from one to another and asked: "who is this stranger?" "why, it's button-bright, of course," answered trot. "if anyone ever finds a lost boy, he can make up his mind it's button-bright. but how he ever came to be lost in this far-away country is more'n i can make out." "where does he belong?" inquired the ork. "his home used to be in philadelphia, i think; but i'm quite sure button-bright doesn't belong anywhere." "that's right," said the boy, nodding his head as he swallowed the second mouthful. "everyone belongs somewhere," remarked the ork. "not me," insisted button-bright. "i'm half way round the world from philadelphia, and i've lost my magic umbrella, that used to carry me anywhere. stands to reason that if i can't get back i haven't any home. but i don't care much. this is a pretty good country, trot. i've had lots of fun here." by this time the mountain ear had secured the boy's cap and was listening to the conversation with much interest. "it seems you know this poor, snow-covered cast-away," he said. "yes, indeed," answered trot. "we made a journey together to sky island, once, and were good friends." "well, then i'm glad i saved his life," said the bumpy man. "much obliged, mr. knobs," said button-bright, sitting up and staring at him, "but i don't believe you've saved anything except some popcorn that i might have eaten had you not disturbed me. it was nice and warm in that bank of popcorn, and there was plenty to eat. what made you dig me out? and what makes you so bumpy everywhere?" "as for the bumps," replied the man, looking at himself with much pride, "i was born with them and i suspect they were a gift from the fairies. they make me look rugged and big, like the mountain i serve." "all right," said button-bright and began eating popcorn again. it had stopped snowing, now, and great flocks of birds were gathering around the mountain-side, eating the popcorn with much eagerness and scarcely noticing the people at all. there were birds of every size and color, most of them having gorgeous feathers and plumes. "just look at them!" exclaimed the ork scornfully. "aren't they dreadful creatures, all covered with feathers?" "i think they're beautiful," said trot, and this made the ork so indignant that he went back into the house and sulked. button-bright reached out his hand and caught a big bird by the leg. at once it rose into the air and it was so strong that it nearly carried the little boy with it. he let go the leg in a hurry and the bird flew down again and began to eat of the popcorn, not being frightened in the least. this gave cap'n bill an idea. he felt in his pocket and drew out several pieces of stout string. moving very quietly, so as to not alarm the birds, he crept up to several of the biggest ones and tied cords around their legs, thus making them prisoners. the birds were so intent on their eating that they did not notice what had happened to them, and when about twenty had been captured in this manner cap'n bill tied the ends of all the strings together and fastened them to a huge stone, so they could not escape. the bumpy man watched the old sailor's actions with much curiosity. "the birds will be quiet until they've eaten up all the snow," he said, "but then they will want to fly away to their homes. tell me, sir, what will the poor things do when they find they can't fly?" "it may worry 'em a little," replied cap'n bill, "but they're not going to be hurt if they take it easy and behave themselves." our friends had all made a good breakfast of the delicious popcorn and now they walked toward the house again. button-bright walked beside trot and held her hand in his, because they were old friends and he liked the little girl very much. the boy was not so old as trot, and small as she was he was half a head shorter in height. the most remarkable thing about button-bright was that he was always quiet and composed, whatever happened, and nothing was ever able to astonish him. trot liked him because he was not rude and never tried to plague her. cap'n bill liked him because he had found the boy cheerful and brave at all times, and willing to do anything he was asked to do. when they came to the house trot sniffed the air and asked "don't i smell perfume?" "i think you do," said the bumpy man. "you smell violets, and that proves there is a breeze springing up from the south. all our winds and breezes are perfumed and for that reason we are glad to have them blow in our direction. the south breeze always has a violet odor; the north breeze has the fragrance of wild roses; the east breeze is perfumed with lilies-of-the-valley and the west wind with lilac blossoms. so we need no weathervane to tell us which way the wind is blowing. we have only to smell the perfume and it informs us at once." inside the house they found the ork, and button-bright regarded the strange, birdlike creature with curious interest. after examining it closely for a time he asked: "which way does your tail whirl?" "either way," said the ork. button-bright put out his hand and tried to spin it. "don't do that!" exclaimed the ork. "why not?" inquired the boy. "because it happens to be my tail, and i reserve the right to whirl it myself," explained the ork. "let's go out and fly somewhere," proposed button-bright. "i want to see how the tail works." "not now," said the ork. "i appreciate your interest in me, which i fully deserve; but i only fly when i am going somewhere, and if i got started i might not stop." "that reminds me," remarked cap'n bill, "to ask you, friend ork, how we are going to get away from here?" "get away!" exclaimed the bumpy man. "why don't you stay here? you won't find any nicer place than mo." "have you been anywhere else, sir?" "no; i can't say that i have," admitted the mountain ear. "then permit me to say you're no judge," declared cap'n bill. "but you haven't answered my question, friend ork. how are we to get away from this mountain?" the ork reflected a while before he answered. "i might carry one of you--the boy or the girl--upon my back," said he, "but three big people are more than i can manage, although i have carried two of you for a short distance. you ought not to have eaten those purple berries so soon." "p'r'aps we did make a mistake," cap'n bill acknowledged. "or we might have brought some of those lavender berries with us, instead of so many purple ones," suggested trot regretfully. cap'n bill made no reply to this statement, which showed he did not fully agree with the little girl; but he fell into deep thought, with wrinkled brows, and finally he said: "if those purple berries would make anything grow bigger, whether it'd eaten the lavender ones or not, i could find a way out of our troubles." they did not understand this speech and looked at the old sailor as if expecting him to explain what he meant. but just then a chorus of shrill cries rose from outside. "here! let me go--let me go!" the voices seemed to say. "why are we insulted in this way? mountain ear, come and help us!" trot ran to the window and looked out. "it's the birds you caught, cap'n," she said. "i didn't know they could talk." "oh, yes; all the birds in mo are educated to talk," said the bumpy man. then he looked at cap'n bill uneasily and added: "won't you let the poor things go?" "i'll see," replied the sailor, and walked out to where the birds were fluttering and complaining because the strings would not allow them to fly away. "listen to me!" he cried, and at once they became still. "we three people who are strangers in your land want to go to some other country, and we want three of you birds to carry us there. we know we are asking a great favor, but it's the only way we can think of--excep' walkin', an' i'm not much good at that because i've a wooden leg. besides, trot an' button-bright are too small to undertake a long and tiresome journey. now, tell me: which three of you birds will consent to carry us?" the birds looked at one another as if greatly astonished. then one of them replied: "you must be crazy, old man. not one of us is big enough to fly with even the smallest of your party." "i'll fix the matter of size," promised cap'n bill. "if three of you will agree to carry us, i'll make you big an' strong enough to do it, so it won't worry you a bit." the birds considered this gravely. living in a magic country, they had no doubt but that the strange one-legged man could do what he said. after a little, one of them asked: "if you make us big, would we stay big always?" "i think so," replied cap'n bill. they chattered a while among themselves and then the bird that had first spoken said: "i'll go, for one." "so will i," said another; and after a pause a third said: "i'll go, too." perhaps more would have volunteered, for it seemed that for some reason they all longed to be bigger than they were; but three were enough for cap'n bill's purpose and so he promptly released all the others, who immediately flew away. the three that remained were cousins, and all were of the same brilliant plumage and in size about as large as eagles. when trot questioned them she found they were quite young, having only abandoned their nests a few weeks before. they were strong young birds, with clear, brave eyes, and the little girl decided they were the most beautiful of all the feathered creatures she had ever seen. cap'n bill now took from his pocket the wooden box with the sliding cover and removed the three purple berries, which were still in good condition. "eat these," he said, and gave one to each of the birds. they obeyed, finding the fruit very pleasant to taste. in a few seconds they began to grow in size and grew so fast that trot feared they would never stop. but they finally did stop growing, and then they were much larger than the ork, and nearly the size of full-grown ostriches. cap'n bill was much pleased by this result. "you can carry us now, all right," said he. the birds strutted around with pride, highly pleased with their immense size. "i don't see, though," said trot doubtfully, "how we're going to ride on their backs without falling off." "we're not going to ride on their backs," answered cap'n bill. "i'm going to make swings for us to ride in." he then asked the bumpy man for some rope, but the man had no rope. he had, however, an old suit of gray clothes which he gladly presented to cap'n bill, who cut the cloth into strips and twisted it so that it was almost as strong as rope. with this material he attached to each bird a swing that dangled below its feet, and button-bright made a trial flight in one of them to prove that it was safe and comfortable. when all this had been arranged one of the birds asked: "where do you wish us to take you?" "why, just follow the ork," said cap'n bill. "he will be our leader, and wherever the ork flies you are to fly, and wherever the ork lands you are to land. is that satisfactory?" the birds declared it was quite satisfactory, so cap'n bill took counsel with the ork. "on our way here," said that peculiar creature, "i noticed a broad, sandy desert at the left of me, on which was no living thing." "then we'd better keep away from it," replied the sailor. "not so," insisted the ork. "i have found, on my travels, that the most pleasant countries often lie in the midst of deserts; so i think it would be wise for us to fly over this desert and discover what lies beyond it. for in the direction we came from lies the ocean, as we well know, and beyond here is this strange land of mo, which we do not care to explore. on one side, as we can see from this mountain, is a broad expanse of plain, and on the other the desert. for my part, i vote for the desert." "what do you say, trot?" inquired cap'n bill. "it's all the same to me," she replied. no one thought of asking button-bright's opinion, so it was decided to fly over the desert. they bade good-bye to the bumpy man and thanked him for his kindness and hospitality. then they seated themselves in the swings--one for each bird--and told the ork to start away and they would follow. the whirl of the ork's tail astonished the birds at first, but after he had gone a short distance they rose in the air, carrying their passengers easily, and flew with strong, regular strokes of their great wings in the wake of their leader. chapter nine the kingdom of jinxland trot rode with more comfort than she had expected, although the swing swayed so much that she had to hold on tight with both hands. cap'n bill's bird followed the ork, and trot came next, with button-bright trailing behind her. it was quite an imposing procession, but unfortunately there was no one to see it, for the ork had headed straight for the great sandy desert and in a few minutes after starting they were flying high over the broad waste, where no living thing could exist. the little girl thought this would be a bad place for the birds to lose strength, or for the cloth ropes to give way; but although she could not help feeling a trifle nervous and fidgety she had confidence in the huge and brilliantly plumaged bird that bore her, as well as in cap'n bill's knowledge of how to twist and fasten a rope so it would hold. that was a remarkably big desert. there was nothing to relieve the monotony of view and every minute seemed an hour and every hour a day. disagreeable fumes and gases rose from the sands, which would have been deadly to the travelers had they not been so high in the air. as it was, trot was beginning to feel sick, when a breath of fresher air filled her nostrils and on looking ahead she saw a great cloud of pink-tinted mist. even while she wondered what it could be, the ork plunged boldly into the mist and the other birds followed. she could see nothing for a time, nor could the bird which carried her see where the ork had gone, but it kept flying as sturdily as ever and in a few moments the mist was passed and the girl saw a most beautiful landscape spread out below her, extending as far as her eye could reach. she saw bits of forest, verdure clothed hills, fields of waving grain, fountains, rivers and lakes; and throughout the scene were scattered groups of pretty houses and a few grand castles and palaces. over all this delightful landscape--which from trot's high perch seemed like a magnificent painted picture--was a rosy glow such as we sometimes see in the west at sunset. in this case, however, it was not in the west only, but everywhere. no wonder the ork paused to circle slowly over this lovely country. the other birds followed his action, all eyeing the place with equal delight. then, as with one accord, the four formed a group and slowly sailed downward. this brought them to that part of the newly-discovered land which bordered on the desert's edge; but it was just as pretty here as anywhere, so the ork and the birds alighted and the three passengers at once got out of their swings. "oh, cap'n bill, isn't this fine an' dandy?" exclaimed trot rapturously. "how lucky we were to discover this beautiful country!" "the country seems rather high class, i'll admit, trot," replied the old sailor-man, looking around him, "but we don't know, as yet, what its people are like." "no one could live in such a country without being happy and good--i'm sure of that," she said earnestly. "don't you think so, button-bright?" "i'm not thinking, just now," answered the little boy. "it tires me to think, and i never seem to gain anything by it. when we see the people who live here we will know what they are like, and no 'mount of thinking will make them any different." "that's true enough," said the ork. "but now i want to make a proposal. while you are getting acquainted with this new country, which looks as if it contains everything to make one happy, i would like to fly along--all by myself--and see if i can find my home on the other side of the great desert. if i do, i will stay there, of course. but if i fail to find orkland i will return to you in a week, to see if i can do anything more to assist you." they were sorry to lose their queer companion, but could offer no objection to the plan; so the ork bade them good-bye and rising swiftly in the air, he flew over the country and was soon lost to view in the distance. the three birds which had carried our friends now begged permission to return by the way they had come, to their own homes, saying they were anxious to show their families how big they had become. so cap'n bill and trot and button-bright all thanked them gratefully for their assistance and soon the birds began their long flight toward the land of mo. being now left to themselves in this strange land, the three comrades selected a pretty pathway and began walking along it. they believed this path would lead them to a splendid castle which they espied in the distance, the turrets of which towered far above the tops of the trees which surrounded it. it did not seem very far away, so they sauntered on slowly, admiring the beautiful ferns and flowers that lined the pathway and listening to the singing of the birds and the soft chirping of the grasshoppers. presently the path wound over a little hill. in a valley that lay beyond the hill was a tiny cottage surrounded by flower beds and fruit trees. on the shady porch of the cottage they saw, as they approached, a pleasant faced woman sitting amidst a group of children, to whom she was telling stories. the children quickly discovered the strangers and ran toward them with exclamations of astonishment, so that trot and her friends became the center of a curious group, all chattering excitedly. cap'n bill's wooden leg seemed to arouse the wonder of the children, as they could not understand why he had not two meat legs. this attention seemed to please the old sailor, who patted the heads of the children kindly and then, raising his hat to the woman, he inquired: "can you tell us, madam, just what country this is?" she stared hard at all three of the strangers as she replied briefly: "jinxland." "oh!" exclaimed cap'n bill, with a puzzled look. "and where is jinxland, please?" "in the quadling country," said she. "what!" cried trot, in sudden excitement. "do you mean to say this is the quadling country of the land of oz?" "to be sure i do," the woman answered. "every bit of land that is surrounded by the great desert is the land of oz, as you ought to know as well as i do; but i'm sorry to say that jinxland is separated from the rest of the quadling country by that row of high mountains you see yonder, which have such steep sides that no one can cross them. so we live here all by ourselves, and are ruled by our own king, instead of by ozma of oz." "i've been to the land of oz before," said button-bright, "but i've never been here." "did you ever hear of jinxland before?" asked trot. "no," said button-bright. "it is on the map of oz, though," asserted the woman, "and it's a fine country, i assure you. if only," she added, and then paused to look around her with a frightened expression. "if only--" here she stopped again, as if not daring to go on with her speech. "if only what, ma'am?" asked cap'n bill. the woman sent the children into the house. then she came closer to the strangers and whispered: "if only we had a different king, we would be very happy and contented." "what's the matter with your king?" asked trot, curiously. but the woman seemed frightened to have said so much. she retreated to her porch, merely saying: "the king punishes severely any treason on the part of his subjects." "what's treason?" asked button-bright. "in this case," replied cap'n bill, "treason seems to consist of knockin' the king; but i guess we know his disposition now as well as if the lady had said more." "i wonder," said trot, going up to the woman, "if you could spare us something to eat. we haven't had anything but popcorn and lemonade for a long time." "bless your heart! of course i can spare you some food," the woman answered, and entering her cottage she soon returned with a tray loaded with sandwiches, cakes and cheese. one of the children drew a bucket of clear, cold water from a spring and the three wanderers ate heartily and enjoyed the good things immensely. when button-bright could eat no more he filled the pockets of his jacket with cakes and cheese, and not even the children objected to this. indeed they all seemed pleased to see the strangers eat, so cap'n bill decided that no matter what the king of jinxland was like, the people would prove friendly and hospitable. "whose castle is that, yonder, ma'am?" he asked, waving his hand toward the towers that rose above the trees. "it belongs to his majesty, king krewl." she said. "oh, indeed; and does he live there?" "when he is not out hunting with his fierce courtiers and war captains," she replied. "is he hunting now?" trot inquired. "i do not know, my dear. the less we know about the king's actions the safer we are." it was evident the woman did not like to talk about king krewl and so, having finished their meal, they said good-bye and continued along the pathway. "don't you think we'd better keep away from that king's castle, cap'n?" asked trot. "well," said he, "king krewl would find out, sooner or later, that we are in his country, so we may as well face the music now. perhaps he isn't quite so bad as that woman thinks he is. kings aren't always popular with their people, you know, even if they do the best they know how." "ozma is pop'lar," said button-bright. "ozma is diff'rent from any other ruler, from all i've heard," remarked trot musingly, as she walked beside the boy. "and, after all, we are really in the land of oz, where ozma rules ev'ry king and ev'rybody else. i never heard of anybody getting hurt in her dominions, did you, button-bright?" "not when she knows about it," he replied. "but those birds landed us in just the wrong place, seems to me. they might have carried us right on, over that row of mountains, to the em'rald city." "true enough," said cap'n bill; "but they didn't, an' so we must make the best of jinxland. let's try not to be afraid." "oh, i'm not very scared," said button-bright, pausing to look at a pink rabbit that popped its head out of a hole in the field near by. "nor am i," added trot. "really, cap'n, i'm so glad to be anywhere at all in the wonderful fairyland of oz that i think i'm the luckiest girl in all the world. dorothy lives in the em'rald city, you know, and so does the scarecrow and the tin woodman and tik-tok and the shaggy man--and all the rest of 'em that we've heard so much about--not to mention ozma, who must be the sweetest and loveliest girl in all the world!" "take your time, trot," advised button-bright. "you don't have to say it all in one breath, you know. and you haven't mentioned half of the curious people in the em'rald city." "that 'ere em'rald city," said cap'n bill impressively, "happens to be on the other side o' those mountains, that we're told no one is able to cross. i don't want to discourage of you, trot, but we're a'most as much separated from your ozma an' dorothy as we were when we lived in californy." there was so much truth in this statement that they all walked on in silence for some time. finally they reached the grove of stately trees that bordered the grounds of the king's castle. they had gone halfway through it when the sound of sobbing, as of someone in bitter distress, reached their ears and caused them to halt abruptly. chapter ten pon, the gardener's boy it was button-bright who first discovered, lying on his face beneath a broad spreading tree near the pathway, a young man whose body shook with the force of his sobs. he was dressed in a long brown smock and had sandals on his feet, betokening one in humble life. his head was bare and showed a shock of brown, curly hair. button-bright looked down on the young man and said: "who cares, anyhow?" "i do!" cried the young man, interrupting his sobs to roll over, face upward, that he might see who had spoken. "i care, for my heart is broken!" "can't you get another one?" asked the little boy. "i don't want another!" wailed the young man. by this time trot and cap'n bill arrived at the spot and the girl leaned over and said in a sympathetic voice: "tell us your troubles and perhaps we may help you." the youth sat up, then, and bowed politely. afterward he got upon his feet, but still kept wringing his hands as he tried to choke down his sobs. trot thought he was very brave to control such awful agony so well. "my name is pon," he began. "i'm the gardener's boy." "then the gardener of the king is your father, i suppose," said trot. "not my father, but my master," was the reply "i do the work and the gardener gives the orders. and it was not my fault, in the least, that the princess gloria fell in love with me." "did she, really?" asked the little girl. "i don't see why," remarked button-bright, staring at the youth. "and who may the princess gloria be?" inquired cap'n bill. "she is the niece of king krewl, who is her guardian. the princess lives in the castle and is the loveliest and sweetest maiden in all jinxland. she is fond of flowers and used to walk in the gardens with her attendants. at such times, if i was working at my tasks, i used to cast down my eyes as gloria passed me; but one day i glanced up and found her gazing at me with a very tender look in her eyes. the next day she dismissed her attendants and, coming to my side, began to talk with me. she said i had touched her heart as no other young man had ever done. i kissed her hand. just then the king came around a bend in the walk. he struck me with his fist and kicked me with his foot. then he seized the arm of the princess and rudely dragged her into the castle." "wasn't he awful!" gasped trot indignantly. "he is a very abrupt king," said pon, "so it was the least i could expect. up to that time i had not thought of loving princess gloria, but realizing it would be impolite not to return her love, i did so. we met at evening, now and then, and she told me the king wanted her to marry a rich courtier named googly-goo, who is old enough to be gloria's father. she has refused googly-goo thirty-nine times, but he still persists and has brought many rich presents to bribe the king. on that account king krewl has commanded his niece to marry the old man, but the princess has assured me, time and again, that she will wed only me. this morning we happened to meet in the grape arbor and as i was respectfully saluting the cheek of the princess, two of the king's guards seized me and beat me terribly before the very eyes of gloria, whom the king himself held back so she could not interfere." "why, this king must be a monster!" cried trot. "he is far worse than that," said pon, mournfully. "but, see here," interrupted cap'n bill, who had listened carefully to pon. "this king may not be so much to blame, after all. kings are proud folks, because they're so high an' mighty, an' it isn't reasonable for a royal princess to marry a common gardener's boy." "it isn't right," declared button-bright. "a princess should marry a prince." "i'm not a common gardener's boy," protested pon. "if i had my rights i would be the king instead of krewl. as it is, i'm a prince, and as royal as any man in jinxland." "how does that come?" asked cap'n bill. "my father used to be the king and krewl was his prime minister. but one day while out hunting, king phearse--that was my father's name--had a quarrel with krewl and tapped him gently on the nose with the knuckles of his closed hand. this so provoked the wicked krewl that he tripped my father backward, so that he fell into a deep pond. at once krewl threw in a mass of heavy stones, which so weighted down my poor father that his body could not rise again to the surface. it is impossible to kill anyone in this land, as perhaps you know, but when my father was pressed down into the mud at the bottom of the deep pool and the stones held him so he could never escape, he was of no more use to himself or the world than if he had died. knowing this, krewl proclaimed himself king, taking possession of the royal castle and driving all my father's people out. i was a small boy, then, but when i grew up i became a gardener. i have served king krewl without his knowing that i am the son of the same king phearse whom he so cruelly made away with." "my, but that's a terr'bly exciting story!" said trot, drawing a long breath. "but tell us, pon, who was gloria's father?" "oh, he was the king before my father," replied pon. "father was prime minister for king kynd, who was gloria's father. she was only a baby when king kynd fell into the great gulf that lies just this side of the mountains--the same mountains that separate jinxland from the rest of the land of oz. it is said the great gulf has no bottom; but, however that may be, king kynd has never been seen again and my father became king in his place." "seems to me," said trot, "that if gloria had her rights she would be queen of jinxland." "well, her father was a king," admitted pon, "and so was my father; so we are of equal rank, although she's a great lady and i'm a humble gardener's boy. i can't see why we should not marry if we want to except that king krewl won't let us." "it's a sort of mixed-up mess, taken altogether," remarked cap'n bill. "but we are on our way to visit king krewl, and if we get a chance, young man, we'll put in a good word for you." "do, please!" begged pon. "was it the flogging you got that broke your heart?" inquired button-bright. "why, it helped to break it, of course," said pon. "i'd get it fixed up, if i were you," advised the boy, tossing a pebble at a chipmunk in a tree. "you ought to give gloria just as good a heart as she gives you." "that's common sense," agreed cap'n bill. so they left the gardener's boy standing beside the path, and resumed their journey toward the castle. chapter eleven the wicked king and googly-goo when our friends approached the great doorway of the castle they found it guarded by several soldiers dressed in splendid uniforms. they were armed with swords and lances. cap'n bill walked straight up to them and asked: "does the king happen to be at home?" "his magnificent and glorious majesty, king krewl, is at present inhabiting his royal castle," was the stiff reply. "then i guess we'll go in an' say how-d'ye-do," continued cap'n bill, attempting to enter the doorway. but a soldier barred his way with a lance. "who are you, what are your names, and where do you come from?" demanded the soldier. "you wouldn't know if we told you," returned the sailor, "seein' as we're strangers in a strange land." "oh, if you are strangers you will be permitted to enter," said the soldier, lowering his lance. "his majesty is very fond of strangers." "do many strangers come here?" asked trot. "you are the first that ever came to our country," said the man. "but his majesty has often said that if strangers ever arrived in jinxland he would see that they had a very exciting time." cap'n bill scratched his chin thoughtfully. he wasn't very favorably impressed by this last remark. but he decided that as there was no way of escape from jinxland it would be wise to confront the king boldly and try to win his favor. so they entered the castle, escorted by one of the soldiers. it was certainly a fine castle, with many large rooms, all beautifully furnished. the passages were winding and handsomely decorated, and after following several of these the soldier led them into an open court that occupied the very center of the huge building. it was surrounded on every side by high turreted walls, and contained beds of flowers, fountains and walks of many colored marbles which were matched together in quaint designs. in an open space near the middle of the court they saw a group of courtiers and their ladies, who surrounded a lean man who wore upon his head a jeweled crown. his face was hard and sullen and through the slits of his half-closed eyelids the eyes glowed like coals of fire. he was dressed in brilliant satins and velvets and was seated in a golden throne-chair. this personage was king krewl, and as soon as cap'n bill saw him the old sailor knew at once that he was not going to like the king of jinxland. "hello! who's here?" said his majesty, with a deep scowl. "strangers, sire," answered the soldier, bowing so low that his forehead touched the marble tiles. "strangers, eh? well, well; what an unexpected visit! advance, strangers, and give an account of yourselves." the king's voice was as harsh as his features. trot shuddered a little but cap'n bill calmly replied: "there ain't much for us to say, 'cept as we've arrived to look over your country an' see how we like it. judgin' from the way you speak, you don't know who we are, or you'd be jumpin' up to shake hands an' offer us seats. kings usually treat us pretty well, in the great big outside world where we come from, but in this little kingdom--which don't amount to much, anyhow--folks don't seem to 'a' got much culchure." the king listened with amazement to this bold speech, first with a frown and then gazing at the two children and the old sailor with evident curiosity. the courtiers were dumb with fear, for no one had ever dared speak in such a manner to their self-willed, cruel king before. his majesty, however, was somewhat frightened, for cruel people are always cowards, and he feared these mysterious strangers might possess magic powers that would destroy him unless he treated them well. so he commanded his people to give the new arrivals seats, and they obeyed with trembling haste. after being seated, cap'n bill lighted his pipe and began puffing smoke from it, a sight so strange to them that it filled them all with wonder. presently the king asked: "how did you penetrate to this hidden country? did you cross the desert or the mountains?" "desert," answered cap'n bill, as if the task were too easy to be worth talking about. "indeed! no one has ever been able to do that before," said the king. "well, it's easy enough, if you know how," asserted cap'n bill, so carelessly that it greatly impressed his hearers. the king shifted in his throne uneasily. he was more afraid of these strangers than before. "do you intend to stay long in jinxland?" was his next anxious question. "depends on how we like it," said cap'n bill. "just now i might suggest to your majesty to order some rooms got ready for us in your dinky little castle here. and a royal banquet, with some fried onions an' pickled tripe, would set easy on our stomicks an' make us a bit happier than we are now." "your wishes shall be attended to," said king krewl, but his eyes flashed from between their slits in a wicked way that made trot hope the food wouldn't be poisoned. at the king's command several of his attendants hastened away to give the proper orders to the castle servants and no sooner were they gone than a skinny old man entered the courtyard and bowed before the king. this disagreeable person was dressed in rich velvets, with many furbelows and laces. he was covered with golden chains, finely wrought rings and jeweled ornaments. he walked with mincing steps and glared at all the courtiers as if he considered himself far superior to any or all of them. "well, well, your majesty; what news--what news?" he demanded, in a shrill, cracked voice. the king gave him a surly look. "no news, lord googly-goo, except that strangers have arrived," he said. googly-goo cast a contemptuous glance at cap'n bill and a disdainful one at trot and button-bright. then he said: "strangers do not interest me, your majesty. but the princess gloria is very interesting--very interesting, indeed! what does she say, sire? will she marry me?" "ask her," retorted the king. "i have, many times; and every time she has refused." "well?" said the king harshly. "well," said googly-goo in a jaunty tone, "a bird that can sing, and won't sing, must be made to sing." "huh!" sneered the king. "that's easy, with a bird; but a girl is harder to manage." "still," persisted googly-goo, "we must overcome difficulties. the chief trouble is that gloria fancies she loves that miserable gardener's boy, pon. suppose we throw pon into the great gulf, your majesty?" "it would do you no good," returned the king. "she would still love him." "too bad, too bad!" sighed googly-goo. "i have laid aside more than a bushel of precious gems--each worth a king's ransom--to present to your majesty on the day i wed gloria." the king's eyes sparkled, for he loved wealth above everything; but the next moment he frowned deeply again. "it won't help us to kill pon," he muttered. "what we must do is kill gloria's love for pon." "that is better, if you can find a way to do it," agreed googly-goo. "everything would come right if you could kill gloria's love for that gardener's boy. really, sire, now that i come to think of it, there must be fully a bushel and a half of those jewels!" just then a messenger entered the court to say that the banquet was prepared for the strangers. so cap'n bill, trot and button-bright entered the castle and were taken to a room where a fine feast was spread upon the table. "i don't like that lord googly-goo," remarked trot as she was busily eating. "nor i," said cap'n bill. "but from the talk we heard i guess the gardener's boy won't get the princess." "perhaps not," returned the girl; "but i hope old googly doesn't get her, either." "the king means to sell her for all those jewels," observed button-bright, his mouth half full of cake and jam. "poor princess!" sighed trot. "i'm sorry for her, although i've never seen her. but if she says no to googly-goo, and means it, what can they do?" "don't let us worry about a strange princess," advised cap'n bill. "i've a notion we're not too safe, ourselves, with this cruel king." the two children felt the same way and all three were rather solemn during the remainder of the meal. when they had eaten, the servants escorted them to their rooms. cap'n bill's room was way to one end of the castle, very high up, and trot's room was at the opposite end, rather low down. as for button-bright, they placed him in the middle, so that all were as far apart as they could possibly be. they didn't like this arrangement very well, but all the rooms were handsomely furnished and being guests of the king they dared not complain. after the strangers had left the courtyard the king and googly-goo had a long talk together, and the king said: "i cannot force gloria to marry you just now, because those strangers may interfere. i suspect that the wooden-legged man possesses great magical powers, or he would never have been able to carry himself and those children across the deadly desert." "i don't like him; he looks dangerous," answered googly-goo. "but perhaps you are mistaken about his being a wizard. why don't you test his powers?" "how?" asked the king. "send for the wicked witch. she will tell you in a moment whether that wooden-legged person is a common man or a magician." "ha! that's a good idea," cried the king. "why didn't i think of the wicked witch before? but the woman demands rich rewards for her services." "never mind; i will pay her," promised the wealthy googly-goo. so a servant was dispatched to summon the wicked witch, who lived but a few leagues from king krewl's castle. while they awaited her, the withered old courtier proposed that they pay a visit to princess gloria and see if she was not now in a more complaisant mood. so the two started away together and searched the castle over without finding gloria. at last googly-goo suggested she might be in the rear garden, which was a large park filled with bushes and trees and surrounded by a high wall. and what was their anger, when they turned a corner of the path, to find in a quiet nook the beautiful princess, and kneeling before her, pon, the gardener's boy! with a roar of rage the king dashed forward; but pon had scaled the wall by means of a ladder, which still stood in its place, and when he saw the king coming he ran up the ladder and made good his escape. but this left gloria confronted by her angry guardian, the king, and by old googly-goo, who was trembling with a fury he could not express in words. seizing the princess by her arm the king dragged her back to the castle. pushing her into a room on the lower floor he locked the door upon the unhappy girl. and at that moment the arrival of the wicked witch was announced. hearing this, the king smiled, as a tiger smiles, showing his teeth. and googly-goo smiled, as a serpent smiles, for he had no teeth except a couple of fangs. and having frightened each other with these smiles the two dreadful men went away to the royal council chamber to meet the wicked witch. chapter twelve the wooden-legged grass-hopper now it so happened that trot, from the window of her room, had witnessed the meeting of the lovers in the garden and had seen the king come and drag gloria away. the little girl's heart went out in sympathy for the poor princess, who seemed to her to be one of the sweetest and loveliest young ladies she had ever seen, so she crept along the passages and from a hidden niche saw gloria locked in her room. the key was still in the lock, so when the king had gone away, followed by googly-goo, trot stole up to the door, turned the key and entered. the princess lay prone upon a couch, sobbing bitterly. trot went up to her and smoothed her hair and tried to comfort her. "don't cry," she said. "i've unlocked the door, so you can go away any time you want to." "it isn't that," sobbed the princess. "i am unhappy because they will not let me love pon, the gardener's boy!" "well, never mind; pon isn't any great shakes, anyhow, seems to me," said trot soothingly. "there are lots of other people you can love." gloria rolled over on the couch and looked at the little girl reproachfully. "pon has won my heart, and i can't help loving him," she explained. then with sudden indignation she added: "but i'll never love googly-goo--never, as long as i live!" "i should say not!" replied trot. "pon may not be much good, but old googly is very, very bad. hunt around, and i'm sure you'll find someone worth your love. you're very pretty, you know, and almost anyone ought to love you." "you don't understand, my dear," said gloria, as she wiped the tears from her eyes with a dainty lace handkerchief bordered with pearls. "when you are older you will realize that a young lady cannot decide whom she will love, or choose the most worthy. her heart alone decides for her, and whomsoever her heart selects, she must love, whether he amounts to much or not." trot was a little puzzled by this speech, which seemed to her unreasonable; but she made no reply and presently gloria's grief softened and she began to question the little girl about herself and her adventures. trot told her how they had happened to come to jinxland, and all about cap'n bill and the ork and pessim and the bumpy man. while they were thus conversing together, getting more and more friendly as they became better acquainted, in the council chamber the king and googly-goo were talking with the wicked witch. this evil creature was old and ugly. she had lost one eye and wore a black patch over it, so the people of jinxland had named her "blinkie." of course witches are forbidden to exist in the land of oz, but jinxland was so far removed from the center of ozma's dominions, and so absolutely cut off from it by the steep mountains and the bottomless gulf, that the laws of oz were not obeyed very well in that country. so there were several witches in jinxland who were the terror of the people, but king krewl favored them and permitted them to exercise their evil sorcery. blinkie was the leader of all the other witches and therefore the most hated and feared. the king used her witchcraft at times to assist him in carrying out his cruelties and revenge, but he was always obliged to pay blinkie large sums of money or heaps of precious jewels before she would undertake an enchantment. this made him hate the old woman almost as much as his subjects did, but to-day lord googly-goo had agreed to pay the witch's price, so the king greeted her with gracious favor. "can you destroy the love of princess gloria for the gardener's boy?" inquired his majesty. the wicked witch thought about it before she replied: "that's a hard question to answer. i can do lots of clever magic, but love is a stubborn thing to conquer. when you think you've killed it, it's liable to bob up again as strong as ever. i believe love and cats have nine lives. in other words, killing love is a hard job, even for a skillful witch, but i believe i can do something that will answer your purpose just as well." "what is that?" asked the king. "i can freeze the girl's heart. i've got a special incantation for that, and when gloria's heart is thoroughly frozen she can no longer love pon." "just the thing!" exclaimed googly-goo, and the king was likewise much pleased. they bargained a long time as to the price, but finally the old courtier agreed to pay the wicked witch's demands. it was arranged that they should take gloria to blinkie's house the next day, to have her heart frozen. then king krewl mentioned to the old hag the strangers who had that day arrived in jinxland, and said to her: "i think the two children--the boy and the girl--are unable to harm me, but i have a suspicion that the wooden-legged man is a powerful wizard." the witch's face wore a troubled look when she heard this. "if you are right," she said, "this wizard might spoil my incantation and interfere with me in other ways. so it will be best for me to meet this stranger at once and match my magic against his, to decide which is the stronger." "all right," said the king. "come with me and i will lead you to the man's room." googly-goo did not accompany them, as he was obliged to go home to get the money and jewels he had promised to pay old blinkie, so the other two climbed several flights of stairs and went through many passages until they came to the room occupied by cap'n bill. the sailor-man, finding his bed soft and inviting, and being tired with the adventures he had experienced, had decided to take a nap. when the wicked witch and the king softly opened his door and entered, cap'n bill was snoring with such vigor that he did not hear them at all. blinkie approached the bed and with her one eye anxiously stared at the sleeping stranger. "ah," she said in a soft whisper, "i believe you are right, king krewl. the man looks to me like a very powerful wizard. but by good luck i have caught him asleep, so i shall transform him before he wakes up, giving him such a form that he will be unable to oppose me." "careful!" cautioned the king, also speaking low. "if he discovers what you are doing he may destroy you, and that would annoy me because i need you to attend to gloria." but the wicked witch realized as well as he did that she must be careful. she carried over her arm a black bag, from which she now drew several packets carefully wrapped in paper. three of these she selected, replacing the others in the bag. two of the packets she mixed together, and then she cautiously opened the third. "better stand back, your majesty," she advised, "for if this powder falls on you you might be transformed yourself." the king hastily retreated to the end of the room. as blinkie mixed the third powder with the others she waved her hands over it, mumbled a few words, and then backed away as quickly as she could. cap'n bill was slumbering peacefully, all unconscious of what was going on. puff! a great cloud of smoke rolled over the bed and completely hid him from view. when the smoke rolled away, both blinkie and the king saw that the body of the stranger had quite disappeared, while in his place, crouching in the middle of the bed, was a little gray grasshopper. one curious thing about this grasshopper was that the last joint of its left leg was made of wood. another curious thing--considering it was a grasshopper--was that it began talking, crying out in a tiny but sharp voice: "here--you people! what do you mean by treating me so? put me back where i belong, at once, or you'll be sorry!" the cruel king turned pale at hearing the grasshopper's threats, but the wicked witch merely laughed in derision. then she raised her stick and aimed a vicious blow at the grasshopper, but before the stick struck the bed the tiny hopper made a marvelous jump--marvelous, indeed, when we consider that it had a wooden leg. it rose in the air and sailed across the room and passed right through the open window, where it disappeared from their view. "good!" shouted the king. "we are well rid of this desperate wizard." and then they both laughed heartily at the success of the incantation, and went away to complete their horrid plans. after trot had visited a time with princess gloria, the little girl went to button-bright's room but did not find him there. then she went to cap'n bill's room, but he was not there because the witch and the king had been there before her. so she made her way downstairs and questioned the servants. they said they had seen the little boy go out into the garden, some time ago, but the old man with the wooden leg they had not seen at all. therefore trot, not knowing what else to do, rambled through the great gardens, seeking for button-bright or cap'n bill and not finding either of them. this part of the garden, which lay before the castle, was not walled in, but extended to the roadway, and the paths were open to the edge of the forest; so, after two hours of vain search for her friends, the little girl returned to the castle. but at the doorway a soldier stopped her. "i live here," said trot, "so it's all right to let me in. the king has given me a room." "well, he has taken it back again," was the soldier's reply. "his majesty's orders are to turn you away if you attempt to enter. i am also ordered to forbid the boy, your companion, to again enter the king's castle." "how 'bout cap'n bill?" she inquired. "why, it seems he has mysteriously disappeared," replied the soldier, shaking his head ominously. "where he has gone to, i can't make out, but i can assure you he is no longer in this castle. i'm sorry, little girl, to disappoint you. don't blame me; i must obey my master's orders." now, all her life trot had been accustomed to depend on cap'n bill, so when this good friend was suddenly taken from her she felt very miserable and forlorn indeed. she was brave enough not to cry before the soldier, or even to let him see her grief and anxiety, but after she was turned away from the castle she sought a quiet bench in the garden and for a time sobbed as if her heart would break. it was button-bright who found her, at last, just as the sun had set and the shades of evening were falling. he also had been turned away from the king's castle, when he tried to enter it, and in the park he came across trot. "never mind," said the boy. "we can find a place to sleep." "i want cap'n bill," wailed the girl. "well, so do i," was the reply. "but we haven't got him. where do you s'pose he is, trot? "i don't s'pose anything. he's gone, an' that's all i know 'bout it." button-bright sat on the bench beside her and thrust his hands in the pockets of his knickerbockers. then he reflected somewhat gravely for him. "cap'n bill isn't around here," he said, letting his eyes wander over the dim garden, "so we must go somewhere else if we want to find him. besides, it's fast getting dark, and if we want to find a place to sleep we must get busy while we can see where to go." he rose from the bench as he said this and trot also jumped up, drying her eyes on her apron. then she walked beside him out of the grounds of the king's castle. they did not go by the main path, but passed through an opening in a hedge and found themselves in a small but well-worn roadway. following this for some distance, along a winding way, they came upon no house or building that would afford them refuge for the night. it became so dark that they could scarcely see their way, and finally trot stopped and suggested that they camp under a tree. "all right," said button-bright, "i've often found that leaves make a good warm blanket. but--look there, trot!--isn't that a light flashing over yonder?" "it certainly is, button-bright. let's go over and see if it's a house. whoever lives there couldn't treat us worse than the king did." to reach the light they had to leave the road, so they stumbled over hillocks and brushwood, hand in hand, keeping the tiny speck of light always in sight. they were rather forlorn little waifs, outcasts in a strange country and forsaken by their only friend and guardian, cap'n bill. so they were very glad when finally they reached a small cottage and, looking in through its one window, saw pon, the gardener's boy, sitting by a fire of twigs. as trot opened the door and walked boldly in, pon sprang up to greet them. they told him of cap'n bill's disappearance and how they had been turned out of the king's castle. as they finished the story pon shook his head sadly. "king krewl is plotting mischief, i fear," said he, "for to-day he sent for old blinkie, the wicked witch, and with my own eyes i saw her come from the castle and hobble away toward her hut. she had been with the king and googly-goo, and i was afraid they were going to work some enchantment on gloria so she would no longer love me. but perhaps the witch was only called to the castle to enchant your friend, cap'n bill." "could she do that?" asked trot, horrified by the suggestion. "i suppose so, for old blinkie can do a lot of wicked magical things." "what sort of an enchantment could she put on cap'n bill?" "i don't know. but he has disappeared, so i'm pretty certain she has done something dreadful to him. but don't worry. if it has happened, it can't be helped, and if it hasn't happened we may be able to find him in the morning." with this pon went to the cupboard and brought food for them. trot was far too worried to eat, but button-bright made a good supper from the simple food and then lay down before the fire and went to sleep. the little girl and the gardener's boy, however, sat for a long time staring into the fire, busy with their thoughts. but at last trot, too, became sleepy and pon gently covered her with the one blanket he possessed. then he threw more wood on the fire and laid himself down before it, next to button-bright. soon all three were fast asleep. they were in a good deal of trouble; but they were young, and sleep was good to them because for a time it made them forget. chapter thirteen glinda the good and the scarecrow of oz that country south of the emerald city, in the land of oz, is known as the quadling country, and in the very southernmost part of it stands a splendid palace in which lives glinda the good. glinda is the royal sorceress of oz. she has wonderful magical powers and uses them only to benefit the subjects of ozma's kingdom. even the famous wizard of oz pays tribute to her, for glinda taught him all the real magic he knows, and she is his superior in all sorts of sorcery everyone loves glinda, from the dainty and exquisite ruler, ozma, down to the humblest inhabitant of oz, for she is always kindly and helpful and willing to listen to their troubles, however busy she may be. no one knows her age, but all can see how beautiful and stately she is. her hair is like red gold and finer than the finest silken strands. her eyes are blue as the sky and always frank and smiling. her cheeks are the envy of peach-blows and her mouth is enticing as a rosebud. glinda is tall and wears splendid gowns that trail behind her as she walks. she wears no jewels, for her beauty would shame them. for attendants glinda has half a hundred of the loveliest girls in oz. they are gathered from all over oz, from among the winkies, the munchkins, the gillikins and the quadlings, as well as from ozma's magnificent emerald city, and it is considered a great favor to be allowed to serve the royal sorceress. among the many wonderful things in glinda's palace is the great book of records. in this book is inscribed everything that takes place in all the world, just the instant it happens; so that by referring to its pages glinda knows what is taking place far and near, in every country that exists. in this way she learns when and where she can help any in distress or danger, and although her duties are confined to assisting those who inhabit the land of oz, she is always interested in what takes place in the unprotected outside world. so it was that on a certain evening glinda sat in her library, surrounded by a bevy of her maids, who were engaged in spinning, weaving and embroidery, when an attendant announced the arrival at the palace of the scarecrow. this personage was one of the most famous and popular in all the land of oz. his body was merely a suit of munchkin clothes stuffed with straw, but his head was a round sack filled with bran, with which the wizard of oz had mixed some magic brains of a very superior sort. the eyes, nose and mouth of the scarecrow were painted upon the front of the sack, as were his ears, and since this quaint being had been endowed with life, the expression of his face was very interesting, if somewhat comical. the scarecrow was good all through, even to his brains, and while he was naturally awkward in his movements and lacked the neat symmetry of other people, his disposition was so kind and considerate and he was so obliging and honest, that all who knew him loved him, and there were few people in oz who had not met our scarecrow and made his acquaintance. he lived part of the time in ozma's palace at the emerald city, part of the time in his own corncob castle in the winkie country, and part of the time he traveled over all oz, visiting with the people and playing with the children, whom he dearly loved. it was on one of his wandering journeys that the scarecrow had arrived at glinda's palace, and the sorceress at once made him welcome. as he sat beside her, talking of his adventures, he asked: "what's new in the way of news?" glinda opened her great book of records and read some of the last pages. "here is an item quite curious and interesting," she announced, an accent of surprise in her voice. "three people from the big outside world have arrived in jinxland." "where is jinxland?" inquired the scarecrow. "very near here, a little to the east of us," she said. "in fact, jinxland is a little slice taken off the quadling country, but separated from it by a range of high mountains, at the foot of which lies a wide, deep gulf that is supposed to be impassable." "then jinxland is really a part of the land of oz," said he. "yes," returned glinda, "but oz people know nothing of it, except what is recorded here in my book." "what does the book say about it?" asked the scarecrow. "it is ruled by a wicked man called king krewl, although he has no right to the title. most of the people are good, but they are very timid and live in constant fear of their fierce ruler. there are also several wicked witches who keep the inhabitants of jinxland in a state of terror." "do those witches have any magical powers?" inquired the scarecrow. "yes, they seem to understand witchcraft in its most evil form, for one of them has just transformed a respectable and honest old sailor--one of the strangers who arrived there--into a grasshopper. this same witch, blinkie by name, is also planning to freeze the heart of a beautiful jinxland girl named princess gloria." "why, that's a dreadful thing to do!" exclaimed the scarecrow. glinda's face was very grave. she read in her book how trot and button-bright were turned out of the king's castle, and how they found refuge in the hut of pon, the gardener's boy. "i'm afraid those helpless earth people will endure much suffering in jinxland, even if the wicked king and the witches permit them to live," said the good sorceress, thoughtfully. "i wish i might help them." "can i do anything?" asked the scarecrow, anxiously. "if so, tell me what to do, and i'll do it." for a few moments glinda did not reply, but sat musing over the records. then she said: "i am going to send you to jinxland, to protect trot and button-bright and cap'n bill." "all right," answered the scarecrow in a cheerful voice. "i know button-bright already, for he has been in the land of oz before. you remember he went away from the land of oz in one of our wizard's big bubbles." "yes," said glinda, "i remember that." then she carefully instructed the scarecrow what to do and gave him certain magical things which he placed in the pockets of his ragged munchkin coat. "as you have no need to sleep," said she, "you may as well start at once." "the night is the same as day to me," he replied, "except that i cannot see my way so well in the dark." "i will furnish a light to guide you," promised the sorceress. so the scarecrow bade her good-bye and at once started on his journey. by morning he had reached the mountains that separated the quadling country from jinxland. the sides of these mountains were too steep to climb, but the scarecrow took a small rope from his pocket and tossed one end upward, into the air. the rope unwound itself for hundreds of feet, until it caught upon a peak of rock at the very top of a mountain, for it was a magic rope furnished him by glinda. the scarecrow climbed the rope and, after pulling it up, let it down on the other side of the mountain range. when he descended the rope on this side he found himself in jinxland, but at his feet yawned the great gulf, which must be crossed before he could proceed any farther. the scarecrow knelt down and examined the ground carefully, and in a moment he discovered a fuzzy brown spider that had rolled itself into a ball. so he took two tiny pills from his pocket and laid them beside the spider, which unrolled itself and quickly ate up the pills. then the scarecrow said in a voice of command: "spin!" and the spider obeyed instantly. in a few moments the little creature had spun two slender but strong strands that reached way across the gulf, one being five or six feet above the other. when these were completed the scarecrow started across the tiny bridge, walking upon one strand as a person walks upon a rope, and holding to the upper strand with his hands to prevent him from losing his balance and toppling over into the gulf. the tiny threads held him safely, thanks to the strength given them by the magic pills. presently he was safe across and standing on the plains of jinxland. far away he could see the towers of the king's castle and toward this he at once began to walk. chapter fourteen the frozen heart in the hut of pon, the gardener's boy, button-bright was the first to waken in the morning. leaving his companions still asleep, he went out into the fresh morning air and saw some blackberries growing on bushes in a field not far away. going to the bushes he found the berries ripe and sweet, so he began eating them. more bushes were scattered over the fields, so the boy wandered on, from bush to bush, without paying any heed to where he was wandering. then a butterfly fluttered by. he gave chase to it and followed it a long way. when finally he paused to look around him, button-bright could see no sign of pon's house, nor had he the slightest idea in which direction it lay. "well, i'm lost again," he remarked to himself. "but never mind; i've been lost lots of times. someone is sure to find me." trot was a little worried about button-bright when she awoke and found him gone. knowing how careless he was, she believed that he had strayed away, but felt that he would come back in time, because he had a habit of not staying lost. pon got the little girl some food for her breakfast and then together they went out of the hut and stood in the sunshine. pon's house was some distance off the road, but they could see it from where they stood and both gave a start of surprise when they discovered two soldiers walking along the roadway and escorting princess gloria between them. the poor girl had her hands bound together, to prevent her from struggling, and the soldiers rudely dragged her forward when her steps seemed to lag. behind this group came king krewl, wearing his jeweled crown and swinging in his hand a slender golden staff with a ball of clustered gems at one end. "where are they going?" asked trot. "to the house of the wicked witch, i fear," pon replied. "come, let us follow them, for i am sure they intend to harm my dear gloria." "won't they see us?" she asked timidly. "we won't let them. i know a short cut through the trees to blinkie's house," said he. so they hurried away through the trees and reached the house of the witch ahead of the king and his soldiers. hiding themselves in the shrubbery, they watched the approach of poor gloria and her escort, all of whom passed so near to them that pon could have put out a hand and touched his sweetheart, had he dared to. blinkie's house had eight sides, with a door and a window in each side. smoke was coming out of the chimney and as the guards brought gloria to one of the doors it was opened by the old witch in person. she chuckled with evil glee and rubbed her skinny hands together to show the delight with which she greeted her victim, for blinkie was pleased to be able to perform her wicked rites on one so fair and sweet as the princess. gloria struggled to resist when they bade her enter the house, so the soldiers forced her through the doorway and even the king gave her a shove as he followed close behind. pon was so incensed at the cruelty shown gloria that he forgot all caution and rushed forward to enter the house also; but one of the soldiers prevented him, pushing the gardener's boy away with violence and slamming the door in his face. "never mind," said trot soothingly, as pon rose from where he had fallen. "you couldn't do much to help the poor princess if you were inside. how unfortunate it is that you are in love with her!" "true," he answered sadly, "it is indeed my misfortune. if i did not love her, it would be none of my business what the king did to his niece gloria; but the unlucky circumstance of my loving her makes it my duty to defend her." "i don't see how you can, duty or no duty," observed trot. "no; i am powerless, for they are stronger than i. but we might peek in through the window and see what they are doing." trot was somewhat curious, too, so they crept up to one of the windows and looked in, and it so happened that those inside the witch's house were so busy they did not notice that pon and trot were watching them. gloria had been tied to a stout post in the center of the room and the king was giving the wicked witch a quantity of money and jewels, which googly-goo had provided in payment. when this had been done the king said to her: "are you perfectly sure you can freeze this maiden's heart, so that she will no longer love that low gardener's boy?" "sure as witchcraft, your majesty," the creature replied. "then get to work," said the king. "there may be some unpleasant features about the ceremony that would annoy me, so i'll bid you good day and leave you to carry out your contract. one word, however: if you fail, i shall burn you at the stake!" then he beckoned to his soldiers to follow him, and throwing wide the door of the house walked out. this action was so sudden that king krewl almost caught trot and pon eavesdropping, but they managed to run around the house before he saw them. away he marched, up the road, followed by his men, heartlessly leaving gloria to the mercies of old blinkie. when they again crept up to the window, trot and pon saw blinkie gloating over her victim. although nearly fainting from fear, the proud princess gazed with haughty defiance into the face of the wicked creature; but she was bound so tightly to the post that she could do no more to express her loathing. pretty soon blinkie went to a kettle that was swinging by a chain over the fire and tossed into it several magical compounds. the kettle gave three flashes, and at every flash another witch appeared in the room. these hags were very ugly but when one-eyed blinkie whispered her orders to them they grinned with joy as they began dancing around gloria. first one and then another cast something into the kettle, when to the astonishment of the watchers at the window all three of the old women were instantly transformed into maidens of exquisite beauty, dressed in the daintiest costumes imaginable. only their eyes could not be disguised, and an evil glare still shone in their depths. but if the eyes were cast down or hidden, one could not help but admire these beautiful creatures, even with the knowledge that they were mere illusions of witchcraft. trot certainly admired them, for she had never seen anything so dainty and bewitching, but her attention was quickly drawn to their deeds instead of their persons, and then horror replaced admiration. into the kettle old blinkie poured another mess from a big brass bottle she took from a chest, and this made the kettle begin to bubble and smoke violently. one by one the beautiful witches approached to stir the contents of the kettle and to mutter a magic charm. their movements were graceful and rhythmic and the wicked witch who had called them to her aid watched them with an evil grin upon her wrinkled face. finally the incantation was complete. the kettle ceased bubbling and together the witches lifted it from the fire. then blinkie brought a wooden ladle and filled it from the contents of the kettle. going with the spoon to princess gloria she cried: "love no more! magic art now will freeze your mortal heart!" with this she dashed the contents of the ladle full upon gloria's breast. trot saw the body of the princess become transparent, so that her beating heart showed plainly. but now the heart turned from a vivid red to gray, and then to white. a layer of frost formed about it and tiny icicles clung to its surface. then slowly the body of the girl became visible again and the heart was hidden from view. gloria seemed to have fainted, but now she recovered and, opening her beautiful eyes, stared coldly and without emotion at the group of witches confronting her. blinkie and the others knew by that one cold look that their charm had been successful. they burst into a chorus of wild laughter and the three beautiful ones began dancing again, while blinkie unbound the princess and set her free. trot rubbed her eyes to prove that she was wide awake and seeing clearly, for her astonishment was great when the three lovely maidens turned into ugly, crooked hags again, leaning on broomsticks and canes. they jeered at gloria, but the princess regarded them with cold disdain. being now free, she walked to a door, opened it and passed out. and the witches let her go. trot and pon had been so intent upon this scene that in their eagerness they had pressed quite hard against the window. just as gloria went out of the house the window-sash broke loose from its fastenings and fell with a crash into the room. the witches uttered a chorus of screams and then, seeing that their magical incantation had been observed, they rushed for the open window with uplifted broomsticks and canes. but pon was off like the wind, and trot followed at his heels. fear lent them strength to run, to leap across ditches, to speed up the hills and to vault the low fences as a deer would. the band of witches had dashed through the window in pursuit; but blinkie was so old, and the others so crooked and awkward, that they soon realized they would be unable to overtake the fugitives. so the three who had been summoned by the wicked witch put their canes or broomsticks between their legs and flew away through the air, quickly disappearing against the blue sky. blinkie, however, was so enraged at pon and trot that she hobbled on in the direction they had taken, fully determined to catch them, in time, and to punish them terribly for spying upon her witchcraft. when pon and trot had run so far that they were confident they had made good their escape, they sat down near the edge of a forest to get their breath again, for both were panting hard from their exertions. trot was the first to recover speech, and she said to her companion: "my! wasn't it terr'ble?" "the most terrible thing i ever saw," pon agreed. "and they froze gloria's heart; so now she can't love you any more." "well, they froze her heart, to be sure," admitted pon, "but i'm in hopes i can melt it with my love." "where do you s'pose gloria is?" asked the girl, after a pause. "she left the witch's house just before we did. perhaps she has gone back to the king's castle," he said. "i'm pretty sure she started off in a diff'rent direction," declared trot. "i looked over my shoulder, as i ran, to see how close the witches were, and i'm sure i saw gloria walking slowly away toward the north." "then let us circle around that way," proposed pon, "and perhaps we shall meet her." trot agreed to this and they left the grove and began to circle around toward the north, thus drawing nearer and nearer to old blinkie's house again. the wicked witch did not suspect this change of direction, so when she came to the grove she passed through it and continued on. pon and trot had reached a place less than half a mile from the witch's house when they saw gloria walking toward them. the princess moved with great dignity and with no show of haste whatever, holding her head high and looking neither to right nor left. pon rushed forward, holding out his arms as if to embrace her and calling her sweet names. but gloria gazed upon him coldly and repelled him with a haughty gesture. at this the poor gardener's boy sank upon his knees and hid his face in his arms, weeping bitter tears; but the princess was not at all moved by his distress. passing him by, she drew her skirts aside, as if unwilling they should touch him, and then she walked up the path a way and hesitated, as if uncertain where to go next. trot was grieved by pon's sobs and indignant because gloria treated him so badly. but she remembered why. "i guess your heart is frozen, all right," she said to the princess. gloria nodded gravely, in reply, and then turned her back upon the little girl. "can't you like even me?" asked trot, half pleadingly. "no," said gloria. "your voice sounds like a refrig'rator," sighed the little girl. "i'm awful sorry for you, 'cause you were sweet an' nice to me before this happened. you can't help it, of course; but it's a dreadful thing, jus' the same." "my heart is frozen to all mortal loves," announced gloria, calmly. "i do not love even myself." "that's too bad," said trot, "for, if you can't love anybody, you can't expect anybody to love you." "i do!" cried pon. "i shall always love her." "well, you're just a gardener's boy," replied trot, "and i didn't think you 'mounted to much, from the first. i can love the old princess gloria, with a warm heart an' nice manners, but this one gives me the shivers." "it's her icy heart, that's all," said pon. "that's enough," insisted trot. "seeing her heart isn't big enough to skate on, i can't see that she's of any use to anyone. for my part, i'm goin' to try to find button-bright an' cap'n bill." "i will go with you," decided pon. "it is evident that gloria no longer loves me and that her heart is frozen too stiff for me to melt it with my own love; therefore i may as well help you to find your friends." as trot started off, pon cast one more imploring look at the princess, who returned it with a chilly stare. so he followed after the little girl. as for the princess, she hesitated a moment and then turned in the same direction the others had taken, but going far more slowly. soon she heard footsteps pattering behind her, and up came googly-goo, a little out of breath with running. "stop, gloria!" he cried. "i have come to take you back to my mansion, where we are to be married." she looked at him wonderingly a moment, then tossed her head disdainfully and walked on. but googly-goo kept beside her. "what does this mean?" he demanded. "haven't you discovered that you no longer love that gardener's boy, who stood in my way?" "yes; i have discovered it," she replied. "my heart is frozen to all mortal loves. i cannot love you, or pon, or the cruel king my uncle, or even myself. go your way, googly-goo, for i will wed no one at all." he stopped in dismay when he heard this, but in another minute he exclaimed angrily: "you must wed me, princess gloria, whether you want to or not! i paid to have your heart frozen; i also paid the king to permit our marriage. if you now refuse me it will mean that i have been robbed--robbed--robbed of my precious money and jewels!" he almost wept with despair, but she laughed a cold, bitter laugh and passed on. googly-goo caught at her arm, as if to restrain her, but she whirled and dealt him a blow that sent him reeling into a ditch beside the path. here he lay for a long time, half covered by muddy water, dazed with surprise. finally the old courtier arose, dripping, and climbed from the ditch. the princess had gone; so, muttering threats of vengeance upon her, upon the king and upon blinkie, old googly-goo hobbled back to his mansion to have the mud removed from his costly velvet clothes. chapter fifteen trot meets the scarecrow trot and pon covered many leagues of ground, searching through forests, in fields and in many of the little villages of jinxland, but could find no trace of either cap'n bill or button-bright. finally they paused beside a cornfield and sat upon a stile to rest. pon took some apples from his pocket and gave one to trot. then he began eating another himself, for this was their time for luncheon. when his apple was finished pon tossed the core into the field. "tchuk-tchuk!" said a strange voice. "what do you mean by hitting me in the eye with an apple-core?" then rose up the form of the scarecrow, who had hidden himself in the cornfield while he examined pon and trot and decided whether they were worthy to be helped. "excuse me," said pon. "i didn't know you were there." "how did you happen to be there, anyhow?" asked trot. the scarecrow came forward with awkward steps and stood beside them. "ah, you are the gardener's boy," he said to pon. then he turned to trot. "and you are the little girl who came to jinxland riding on a big bird, and who has had the misfortune to lose her friend, cap'n bill, and her chum, button-bright." "why, how did you know all that?" she inquired. "i know a lot of things," replied the scarecrow, winking at her comically. "my brains are the carefully-assorted, double-distilled, high-efficiency sort that the wizard of oz makes. he admits, himself, that my brains are the best he ever manufactured." "i think i've heard of you," said trot slowly, as she looked the scarecrow over with much interest; "but you used to live in the land of oz." "oh, i do now," he replied cheerfully. "i've just come over the mountains from the quadling country to see if i can be of any help to you." "who, me?" asked pon. "no, the strangers from the big world. it seems they need looking after." "i'm doing that myself," said pon, a little ungraciously. "if you will pardon me for saying so, i don't see how a scarecrow with painted eyes can look after anyone." "if you don't see that, you are more blind than the scarecrow," asserted trot. "he's a fairy man, pon, and comes from the fairyland of oz, so he can do 'most anything. i hope," she added, turning to the scarecrow, "you can find cap'n bill for me." "i will try, anyhow," he promised. "but who is that old woman who is running toward us and shaking her stick at us?" trot and pon turned around and both uttered an exclamation of fear. the next instant they took to their heels and ran fast up the path. for it was old blinkie, the wicked witch, who had at last traced them to this place. her anger was so great that she was determined not to abandon the chase of pon and trot until she had caught and punished them. the scarecrow understood at once that the old woman meant harm to his new friends, so as she drew near he stepped before her. his appearance was so sudden and unexpected that blinkie ran into him and toppled him over, but she tripped on his straw body and went rolling in the path beside him. the scarecrow sat up and said: "i beg your pardon!" but she whacked him with her stick and knocked him flat again. then, furious with rage, the old witch sprang upon her victim and began pulling the straw out of his body. the poor scarecrow was helpless to resist and in a few moments all that was left of him was an empty suit of clothes and a heap of straw beside it. fortunately, blinkie did not harm his head, for it rolled into a little hollow and escaped her notice. fearing that pon and trot would escape her, she quickly resumed the chase and disappeared over the brow of a hill, following the direction in which she had seen them go. only a short time elapsed before a gray grasshopper with a wooden leg came hopping along and lit directly on the upturned face of the scarecrow's head. "pardon me, but you are resting yourself upon my nose," remarked the scarecrow. "oh! are you alive?" asked the grasshopper. "that is a question i have never been able to decide," said the scarecrow's head. "when my body is properly stuffed i have animation and can move around as well as any live person. the brains in the head you are now occupying as a throne, are of very superior quality and do a lot of very clever thinking. but whether that is being alive, or not, i cannot prove to you; for one who lives is liable to death, while i am only liable to destruction." "seems to me," said the grasshopper, rubbing his nose with his front legs, "that in your case it doesn't matter--unless you're destroyed already." "i am not; all i need is re-stuffing," declared the scarecrow; "and if pon and trot escape the witch, and come back here, i am sure they will do me that favor." "tell me! are trot and pon around here?" inquired the grasshopper, its small voice trembling with excitement. the scarecrow did not answer at once, for both his eyes were staring straight upward at a beautiful face that was slightly bent over his head. it was, indeed, princess gloria, who had wandered to this spot, very much surprised when she heard the scarecrow's head talk and the tiny gray grasshopper answer it. "this," said the scarecrow, still staring at her, "must be the princess who loves pon, the gardener's boy." "oh, indeed!" exclaimed the grasshopper--who of course was cap'n bill--as he examined the young lady curiously. "no," said gloria frigidly, "i do not love pon, or anyone else, for the wicked witch has frozen my heart." "what a shame!" cried the scarecrow. "one so lovely should be able to love. but would you mind, my dear, stuffing that straw into my body again?" the dainty princess glanced at the straw and at the well-worn blue munchkin clothes and shrank back in disdain. but she was spared from refusing the scarecrow's request by the appearance of trot and pon, who had hidden in some bushes just over the brow of the hill and waited until old blinkie had passed them by. their hiding place was on the same side as the witch's blind eye, and she rushed on in the chase of the girl and the youth without being aware that they had tricked her. trot was shocked at the scarecrow's sad condition and at once began putting the straw back into his body. pon, at sight of gloria, again appealed to her to take pity on him, but the frozen-hearted princess turned coldly away and with a sigh the gardener's boy began to assist trot. neither of them at first noticed the small grasshopper, which at their appearance had skipped off the scarecrow's nose and was now clinging to a wisp of grass beside the path, where he was not likely to be stepped upon. not until the scarecrow had been neatly restuffed and set upon his feet again--when he bowed to his restorers and expressed his thanks--did the grasshopper move from his perch. then he leaped lightly into the path and called out: "trot--trot! look at me. i'm cap'n bill! see what the wicked witch has done to me." the voice was small, to be sure, but it reached trot's ears and startled her greatly. she looked intently at the grasshopper, her eyes wide with fear at first; then she knelt down and, noticing the wooden leg, she began to weep sorrowfully. "oh, cap'n bill--dear cap'n bill! what a cruel thing to do!" she sobbed. "don't cry, trot," begged the grasshopper. "it didn't hurt any, and it doesn't hurt now. but it's mighty inconvenient an' humiliatin', to say the least." "i wish," said the girl indignantly, while trying hard to restrain her tears, "that i was big 'nough an' strong 'nough to give that horrid witch a good beating. she ought to be turned into a toad for doing this to you, cap'n bill!" "never mind," urged the scarecrow, in a comforting voice, "such a transformation doesn't last always, and as a general thing there's some way to break the enchantment. i'm sure glinda could do it, in a jiffy." "who is glinda?" inquired cap'n bill. then the scarecrow told them all about glinda, not forgetting to mention her beauty and goodness and her wonderful powers of magic. he also explained how the royal sorceress had sent him to jinxland especially to help the strangers, whom she knew to be in danger because of the wiles of the cruel king and the wicked witch. chapter sixteen pon summons the king to surrender gloria had drawn near to the group to listen to their talk, and it seemed to interest her in spite of her frigid manner. they knew, of course, that the poor princess could not help being cold and reserved, so they tried not to blame her. "i ought to have come here a little sooner," said the scarecrow, regretfully; "but glinda sent me as soon as she discovered you were here and were likely to get into trouble. and now that we are all together--except button-bright, over whom it is useless to worry--i propose we hold a council of war, to decide what is best to be done." that seemed a wise thing to do, so they all sat down upon the grass, including gloria, and the grasshopper perched upon trot's shoulder and allowed her to stroke him gently with her hand. "in the first place," began the scarecrow, "this king krewl is a usurper and has no right to rule this kingdom of jinxland." "that is true," said pon, eagerly. "my father was king before him, and i--" "you are a gardener's boy," interrupted the scarecrow. "your father had no right to rule, either, for the rightful king of this land was the father of princess gloria, and only she is entitled to sit upon the throne of jinxland." "good!" exclaimed trot. "but what'll we do with king krewl? i s'pose he won't give up the throne unless he has to." "no, of course not," said the scarecrow. "therefore it will be our duty to make him give up the throne." "how?" asked trot. "give me time to think," was the reply. "that's what my brains are for. i don't know whether you people ever think, or not, but my brains are the best that the wizard of oz ever turned out, and if i give them plenty of time to work, the result usually surprises me." "take your time, then," suggested trot. "there's no hurry." "thank you," said the straw man, and sat perfectly still for half an hour. during this interval the grasshopper whispered in trot's ear, to which he was very close, and trot whispered back to the grasshopper sitting upon her shoulder. pon cast loving glances at gloria, who paid not the slightest heed to them. finally the scarecrow laughed aloud. "brains working?" inquired trot. "yes. they seem in fine order to-day. we will conquer king krewl and put gloria upon his throne as queen of jinxland." "fine!" cried the little girl, clapping her hands together gleefully. "but how?" "leave the how to me," said the scarecrow proudly. "as a conqueror i'm a wonder. we will, first of all, write a message to send to king krewl, asking him to surrender. if he refuses, then we will make him surrender." "why ask him, when we know he'll refuse?" inquired pon. "why, we must be polite, whatever we do," explained the scarecrow. "it would be very rude to conquer a king without proper notice." they found it difficult to write a message without paper, pen and ink, none of which was at hand; so it was decided to send pon as a messenger, with instructions to ask the king, politely but firmly, to surrender. pon was not anxious to be the messenger. indeed, he hinted that it might prove a dangerous mission. but the scarecrow was now the acknowledged head of the army of conquest, and he would listen to no refusal. so off pon started for the king's castle, and the others accompanied him as far as his hut, where they had decided to await the gardener's boy's return. i think it was because pon had known the scarecrow such a short time that he lacked confidence in the straw man's wisdom. it was easy to say: "we will conquer king krewl," but when pon drew near to the great castle he began to doubt the ability of a straw-stuffed man, a girl, a grasshopper and a frozen-hearted princess to do it. as for himself, he had never thought of defying the king before. that was why the gardener's boy was not very bold when he entered the castle and passed through to the enclosed court where the king was just then seated, with his favorite courtiers around him. none prevented pon's entrance, because he was known to be the gardener's boy, but when the king saw him he began to frown fiercely. he considered pon to be to blame for all his trouble with princess gloria, who since her heart had been frozen had escaped to some unknown place, instead of returning to the castle to wed googly-goo, as she had been expected to do. so the king bared his teeth angrily as he demanded: "what have you done with princess gloria?" "nothing, your majesty! i have done nothing at all," answered pon in a faltering voice. "she does not love me any more and even refuses to speak to me." "then why are you here, you rascal?" roared the king. pon looked first one way and then another, but saw no means of escape; so he plucked up courage. "i am here to summon your majesty to surrender." "what!" shouted the king. "surrender? surrender to whom?" pon's heart sank to his boots. "to the scarecrow," he replied. some of the courtiers began to titter, but king krewl was greatly annoyed. he sprang up and began to beat poor pon with the golden staff he carried. pon howled lustily and would have run away had not two of the soldiers held him until his majesty was exhausted with punishing the boy. then they let him go and he left the castle and returned along the road, sobbing at every step because his body was so sore and aching. "well," said the scarecrow, "did the king surrender?" "no; but he gave me a good drubbing!" sobbed poor pon. trot was very sorry for pon, but gloria did not seem affected in any way by her lover's anguish. the grasshopper leaped to the scarecrow's shoulder and asked him what he was going to do next. "conquer," was the reply. "but i will go alone, this time, for beatings cannot hurt me at all; nor can lance thrusts--or sword cuts--or arrow pricks." "why is that?" inquired trot. "because i have no nerves, such as you meat people possess. even grasshoppers have nerves, but straw doesn't; so whatever they do--except just one thing--they cannot injure me. therefore i expect to conquer king krewl with ease." "what is that one thing you excepted?" asked trot. "they will never think of it, so never mind. and now, if you will kindly excuse me for a time, i'll go over to the castle and do my conquering." "you have no weapons," pon reminded him. "true," said the scarecrow. "but if i carried weapons i might injure someone--perhaps seriously--and that would make me unhappy. i will just borrow that riding-whip, which i see in the corner of your hut, if you don't mind. it isn't exactly proper to walk with a riding-whip, but i trust you will excuse the inconsistency." pon handed him the whip and the scarecrow bowed to all the party and left the hut, proceeding leisurely along the way to the king's castle. chapter seventeen the ork rescues button-bright i must now tell you what had become of button-bright since he wandered away in the morning and got lost. this small boy, as perhaps you have discovered, was almost as destitute of nerves as the scarecrow. nothing ever astonished him much; nothing ever worried him or made him unhappy. good fortune or bad fortune he accepted with a quiet smile, never complaining, whatever happened. this was one reason why button-bright was a favorite with all who knew him--and perhaps it was the reason why he so often got into difficulties, or found himself lost. to-day, as he wandered here and there, over hill and down dale, he missed trot and cap'n bill, of whom he was fond, but nevertheless he was not unhappy. the birds sang merrily and the wildflowers were beautiful and the breeze had a fragrance of new-mown hay. "the only bad thing about this country is its king," he reflected; "but the country isn't to blame for that." a prairie-dog stuck its round head out of a mound of earth and looked at the boy with bright eyes. "walk around my house, please," it said, "and then you won't harm it or disturb the babies." "all right," answered button-bright, and took care not to step on the mound. he went on, whistling merrily, until a petulant voice cried: "oh, stop it! please stop that noise. it gets on my nerves." button-bright saw an old gray owl sitting in the crotch of a tree, and he replied with a laugh: "all right, old fussy," and stopped whistling until he had passed out of the owl's hearing. at noon he came to a farmhouse where an aged couple lived. they gave him a good dinner and treated him kindly, but the man was deaf and the woman was dumb, so they could answer no questions to guide him on the way to pon's house. when he left them he was just as much lost as he had been before. every grove of trees he saw from a distance he visited, for he remembered that the king's castle was near a grove of trees and pon's hut was near the king's castle; but always he met with disappointment. finally, passing through one of these groves, he came out into the open and found himself face to face with the ork. "hello!" said button-bright. "where did you come from?" "from orkland," was the reply. "i've found my own country, at last, and it is not far from here, either. i would have come back to you sooner, to see how you are getting along, had not my family and friends welcomed my return so royally that a great celebration was held in my honor. so i couldn't very well leave orkland again until the excitement was over." "can you find your way back home again?" asked the boy. "yes, easily; for now i know exactly where it is. but where are trot and cap'n bill?" button-bright related to the ork their adventures since it had left them in jinxland, telling of trot's fear that the king had done something wicked to cap'n bill, and of pon's love for gloria, and how trot and button-bright had been turned out of the king's castle. that was all the news that the boy had, but it made the ork anxious for the safety of his friends. "we must go to them at once, for they may need us," he said. "i don't know where to go," confessed button-bright. "i'm lost." "well, i can take you back to the hut of the gardener's boy," promised the ork, "for when i fly high in the air i can look down and easily spy the king's castle. that was how i happened to spy you, just entering the grove; so i flew down and waited until you came out." "how can you carry me?" asked the boy. "you'll have to sit straddle my shoulders and put your arms around my neck. do you think you can keep from falling off?" "i'll try," said button-bright. so the ork squatted down and the boy took his seat and held on tight. then the skinny creature's tail began whirling and up they went, far above all the tree-tops. after the ork had circled around once or twice, its sharp eyes located the towers of the castle and away it flew, straight toward the place. as it hovered in the air, near by the castle, button-bright pointed out pon's hut, so they landed just before it and trot came running out to greet them. gloria was introduced to the ork, who was surprised to find cap'n bill transformed into a grasshopper. "how do you like it?" asked the creature. "why, it worries me good deal," answered cap'n bill, perched upon trot's shoulder. "i'm always afraid o' bein' stepped on, and i don't like the flavor of grass an' can't seem to get used to it. it's my nature to eat grass, you know, but i begin to suspect it's an acquired taste." "can you give molasses?" asked the ork. "i guess i'm not that kind of a grasshopper," replied cap'n bill. "but i can't say what i might do if i was squeezed--which i hope i won't be." "well," said the ork, "it's a great pity, and i'd like to meet that cruel king and his wicked witch and punish them both severely. you're awfully small, cap'n bill, but i think i would recognize you anywhere by your wooden leg." then the ork and button-bright were told all about gloria's frozen heart and how the scarecrow had come from the land of oz to help them. the ork seemed rather disturbed when it learned that the scarecrow had gone alone to conquer king krewl. "i'm afraid he'll make a fizzle of it," said the skinny creature, "and there's no telling what that terrible king might do to the poor scarecrow, who seems like a very interesting person. so i believe i'll take a hand in this conquest myself." "how?" asked trot. "wait and see," was the reply. "but, first of all, i must fly home again--back to my own country--so if you'll forgive my leaving you so soon, i'll be off at once. stand away from my tail, please, so that the wind from it, when it revolves, won't knock you over." they gave the creature plenty of room and away it went like a flash and soon disappeared in the sky. "i wonder," said button-bright, looking solemnly after the ork, "whether he'll ever come back again." "of course he will!" returned trot. "the ork's a pretty good fellow, and we can depend on him. an' mark my words, button-bright, whenever our ork does come back, there's one cruel king in jinxland that'll wish he hadn't." chapter eighteen the scarecrow meets an enemy the scarecrow was not a bit afraid of king krewl. indeed, he rather enjoyed the prospect of conquering the evil king and putting gloria on the throne of jinxland in his place. so he advanced boldly to the royal castle and demanded admittance. seeing that he was a stranger, the soldiers allowed him to enter. he made his way straight to the throne room, where at that time his majesty was settling the disputes among his subjects. "who are you?" demanded the king. "i'm the scarecrow of oz, and i command you to surrender yourself my prisoner." "why should i do that?" inquired the king, much astonished at the straw man's audacity. "because i've decided you are too cruel a king to rule so beautiful a country. you must remember that jinxland is a part of oz, and therefore you owe allegiance to ozma of oz, whose friend and servant i am." now, when he heard this, king krewl was much disturbed in mind, for he knew the scarecrow spoke the truth. but no one had ever before come to jinxland from the land of oz and the king did not intend to be put out of his throne if he could help it. therefore he gave a harsh, wicked laugh of derision and said: "i'm busy, now. stand out of my way, scarecrow, and i'll talk with you by and by." but the scarecrow turned to the assembled courtiers and people and called in a loud voice: "i hereby declare, in the name of ozma of oz, that this man is no longer ruler of jinxland. from this moment princess gloria is your rightful queen, and i ask all of you to be loyal to her and to obey her commands." the people looked fearfully at the king, whom they all hated in their hearts, but likewise feared. krewl was now in a terrible rage and he raised his golden sceptre and struck the scarecrow so heavy a blow that he fell to the floor. but he was up again, in an instant, and with pon's riding-whip he switched the king so hard that the wicked monarch roared with pain as much as with rage, calling on his soldiers to capture the scarecrow. they tried to do that, and thrust their lances and swords into the straw body, but without doing any damage except to make holes in the scarecrow's clothes. however, they were many against one and finally old googly-goo brought a rope which he wound around the scarecrow, binding his legs together and his arms to his sides, and after that the fight was over. the king stormed and danced around in a dreadful fury, for he had never been so switched since he was a boy--and perhaps not then. he ordered the scarecrow thrust into the castle prison, which was no task at all because one man could carry him easily, bound as he was. even after the prisoner was removed the king could not control his anger. he tried to figure out some way to be revenged upon the straw man, but could think of nothing that could hurt him. at last, when the terrified people and the frightened courtiers had all slunk away, old googly-goo approached the king with a malicious grin upon his face. "i'll tell you what to do," said he. "build a big bonfire and burn the scarecrow up, and that will be the end of him." the king was so delighted with this suggestion that he hugged old googly-goo in his joy. "of course!" he cried. "the very thing. why did i not think of it myself?" so he summoned his soldiers and retainers and bade them prepare a great bonfire in an open space in the castle park. also he sent word to all his people to assemble and witness the destruction of the scarecrow who had dared to defy his power. before long a vast throng gathered in the park and the servants had heaped up enough fuel to make a fire that might be seen for miles away--even in the daytime. when all was prepared, the king had his throne brought out for him to sit upon and enjoy the spectacle, and then he sent his soldiers to fetch the scarecrow. now the one thing in all the world that the straw man really feared was fire. he knew he would burn very easily and that his ashes wouldn't amount to much afterward. it wouldn't hurt him to be destroyed in such a manner, but he realized that many people in the land of oz, and especially dorothy and the royal ozma, would feel sad if they learned that their old friend the scarecrow was no longer in existence. in spite of this, the straw man was brave and faced his fiery fate like a hero. when they marched him out before the concourse of people he turned to the king with great calmness and said: "this wicked deed will cost you your throne, as well as much suffering, for my friends will avenge my destruction." "your friends are not here, nor will they know what i have done to you, when you are gone and can-not tell them," answered the king in a scornful voice. then he ordered the scarecrow bound to a stout stake that he had had driven into the ground, and the materials for the fire were heaped all around him. when this had been done, the king's brass band struck up a lively tune and old googly-goo came forward with a lighted match and set fire to the pile. at once the flames shot up and crept closer and closer toward the scarecrow. the king and all his people were so intent upon this terrible spectacle that none of them noticed how the sky grew suddenly dark. perhaps they thought that the loud buzzing sound--like the noise of a dozen moving railway trains--came from the blazing fagots; that the rush of wind was merely a breeze. but suddenly down swept a flock of orks, half a hundred of them at the least, and the powerful currents of air caused by their revolving tails sent the bonfire scattering in every direction, so that not one burning brand ever touched the scarecrow. but that was not the only effect of this sudden tornado. king krewl was blown out of his throne and went tumbling heels over head until he landed with a bump against the stone wall of his own castle, and before he could rise a big ork sat upon him and held him pressed flat to the ground. old googly-goo shot up into the air like a rocket and landed on a tree, where he hung by the middle on a high limb, kicking the air with his feet and clawing the air with his hands, and howling for mercy like the coward he was. the people pressed back until they were jammed close together, while all the soldiers were knocked over and sent sprawling to the earth. the excitement was great for a few minutes, and every frightened inhabitant of jinxland looked with awe and amazement at the great orks whose descent had served to rescue the scarecrow and conquer king krewl at one and the same time. the ork, who was the leader of the band, soon had the scarecrow free of his bonds. then he said: "well, we were just in time to save you, which is better than being a minute too late. you are now the master here, and we are determined to see your orders obeyed." with this the ork picked up krewl's golden crown, which had fallen off his head, and placed it upon the head of the scarecrow, who in his awkward way then shuffled over to the throne and sat down in it. seeing this, a rousing cheer broke from the crowd of people, who tossed their hats and waved their handkerchiefs and hailed the scarecrow as their king. the soldiers joined the people in the cheering, for now they fully realized that their hated master was conquered and it would be wise to show their good will to the conqueror. some of them bound krewl with ropes and dragged him forward, dumping his body on the ground before the scarecrow's throne. googly-goo struggled until he finally slid off the limb of the tree and came tumbling to the ground. he then tried to sneak away and escape, but the soldiers seized and bound him beside krewl. "the tables are turned," said the scarecrow, swelling out his chest until the straw within it crackled pleasantly, for he was highly pleased; "but it was you and your people who did it, friend ork, and from this time you may count me your humble servant." chapter nineteen the conquest of the witch now as soon as the conquest of king krewl had taken place, one of the orks had been dispatched to pon's house with the joyful news. at once gloria and pon and trot and button-bright hastened toward the castle. they were somewhat surprised by the sight that met their eyes, for there was the scarecrow, crowned king, and all the people kneeling humbly before him. so they likewise bowed low to the new ruler and then stood beside the throne. cap'n bill, as the gray grasshopper, was still perched upon trot's shoulder, but now he hopped to the shoulder of the scarecrow and whispered into the painted ear: "i thought gloria was to be queen of jinxland." the scarecrow shook his head. "not yet," he answered. "no queen with a frozen heart is fit to rule any country." then he turned to his new friend, the ork, who was strutting about, very proud of what he had done, and said: "do you suppose you, or your followers, could find old blinkie the witch?" "where is she?" asked the ork. "somewhere in jinxland, i'm sure." "then," said the ork, "we shall certainly be able to find her." "it will give me great pleasure," declared the scarecrow. "when you have found her, bring her here to me, and i will then decide what to do with her." the ork called his followers together and spoke a few words to them in a low tone. a moment after they rose into the air--so suddenly that the scarecrow, who was very light in weight, was blown quite out of his throne and into the arms of pon, who replaced him carefully upon his seat. there was an eddy of dust and ashes, too, and the grasshopper only saved himself from being whirled into the crowd of people by jumping into a tree, from where a series of hops soon brought him back to trot's shoulder again. the orks were quite out of sight by this time, so the scarecrow made a speech to the people and presented gloria to them, whom they knew well already and were fond of. but not all of them knew of her frozen heart, and when the scarecrow related the story of the wicked witch's misdeeds, which had been encouraged and paid for by krewl and googly-goo, the people were very indignant. meantime the fifty orks had scattered all over jinx land, which is not a very big country, and their sharp eyes were peering into every valley and grove and gully. finally one of them spied a pair of heels sticking out from underneath some bushes, and with a shrill whistle to warn his comrades that the witch was found the ork flew down and dragged old blinkie from her hiding-place. then two or three of the orks seized the clothing of the wicked woman in their strong claws and, lifting her high in the air, where she struggled and screamed to no avail, they flew with her straight to the royal castle and set her down before the throne of the scarecrow. "good!" exclaimed the straw man, nodding his stuffed head with satisfaction. "now we can proceed to business. mistress witch, i am obliged to request, gently but firmly, that you undo all the wrongs you have done by means of your witchcraft." "pah!" cried old blinkie in a scornful voice. "i defy you all! by my magic powers i can turn you all into pigs, rooting in the mud, and i'll do it if you are not careful." "i think you are mistaken about that," said the scarecrow, and rising from his throne he walked with wobbling steps to the side of the wicked witch. "before i left the land of oz, glinda the royal sorceress gave me a box, which i was not to open except in an emergency. but i feel pretty sure that this occasion is an emergency; don't you, trot?" he asked, turning toward the little girl. "why, we've got to do something," replied trot seriously. "things seem in an awful muddle here, jus' now, and they'll be worse if we don't stop this witch from doing more harm to people." "that is my idea, exactly," said the scarecrow, and taking a small box from his pocket he opened the cover and tossed the contents toward blinkie. the old woman shrank back, pale and trembling, as a fine white dust settled all about her. under its influence she seemed to the eyes of all observers to shrivel and grow smaller. "oh, dear--oh, dear!" she wailed, wringing her hands in fear. "haven't you the antidote, scarecrow? didn't the great sorceress give you another box?" "she did," answered the scarecrow. "then give it me--quick!" pleaded the witch. "give it me--and i'll do anything you ask me to!" "you will do what i ask first," declared the scarecrow, firmly. the witch was shriveling and growing smaller every moment. "be quick, then!" she cried. "tell me what i must do and let me do it, or it will be too late." "you made trot's friend, cap'n bill, a grasshopper. i command you to give him back his proper form again," said the scarecrow. "where is he? where's the grasshopper? quick--quick!" she screamed. cap'n bill, who had been deeply interested in this conversation, gave a great leap from trot's shoulder and landed on that of the scarecrow. blinkie saw him alight and at once began to make magic passes and to mumble magic incantations. she was in a desperate hurry, knowing that she had no time to waste, and the grasshopper was so suddenly transformed into the old sailor-man, cap'n bill, that he had no opportunity to jump off the scarecrow's shoulder; so his great weight bore the stuffed scarecrow to the ground. no harm was done, however, and the straw man got up and brushed the dust from his clothes while trot delightedly embraced cap'n bill. "the other box! quick! give me the other box," begged blinkie, who had now shrunk to half her former size. "not yet," said the scarecrow. "you must first melt princess gloria's frozen heart." "i can't; it's an awful job to do that! i can't," asserted the witch, in an agony of fear--for still she was growing smaller. "you must!" declared the scarecrow, firmly. the witch cast a shrewd look at him and saw that he meant it; so she began dancing around gloria in a frantic manner. the princess looked coldly on, as if not at all interested in the proceedings, while blinkie tore a handful of hair from her own head and ripped a strip of cloth from the bottom of her gown. then the witch sank upon her knees, took a purple powder from her black bag and sprinkled it over the hair and cloth. "i hate to do it--i hate to do it!" she wailed, "for there is no more of this magic compound in all the world. but i must sacrifice it to save my own life. a match! give me a match, quick!" and panting from lack of breath she gazed imploringly from one to another. cap'n bill was the only one who had a match, but he lost no time in handing it to blinkie, who quickly set fire to the hair and the cloth and the purple powder. at once a purple cloud enveloped gloria, and this gradually turned to a rosy pink color--brilliant and quite transparent. through the rosy cloud they could all see the beautiful princess, standing proud and erect. then her heart became visible, at first frosted with ice but slowly growing brighter and warmer until all the frost had disappeared and it was beating as softly and regularly as any other heart. and now the cloud dispersed and disclosed gloria, her face suffused with joy, smiling tenderly upon the friends who were grouped about her. poor pon stepped forward--timidly, fearing a repulse, but with pleading eyes and arms fondly outstretched toward his former sweetheart--and the princess saw him and her sweet face lighted with a radiant smile. without an instant's hesitation she threw herself into pon's arms and this reunion of two loving hearts was so affecting that the people turned away and lowered their eyes so as not to mar the sacred joy of the faithful lovers. but blinkie's small voice was shouting to the scarecrow for help. "the antidote!" she screamed. "give me the other box--quick!" the scarecrow looked at the witch with his quaint, painted eyes and saw that she was now no taller than his knee. so he took from his pocket the second box and scattered its contents on blinkie. she ceased to grow any smaller, but she could never regain her former size, and this the wicked old woman well knew. she did not know, however, that the second powder had destroyed all her power to work magic, and seeking to be revenged upon the scarecrow and his friends she at once began to mumble a charm so terrible in its effect that it would have destroyed half the population of jinxland--had it worked. but it did not work at all, to the amazement of old blinkie. and by this time the scarecrow noticed what the little witch was trying to do, and said to her: "go home, blinkie, and behave yourself. you are no longer a witch, but an ordinary old woman, and since you are powerless to do more evil i advise you to try to do some good in the world. believe me, it is more fun to accomplish a good act than an evil one, as you will discover when once you have tried it." but blinkie was at that moment filled with grief and chagrin at losing her magic powers. she started away toward her home, sobbing and bewailing her fate, and not one who saw her go was at all sorry for her. chapter twenty queen gloria next morning the scarecrow called upon all the courtiers and the people to assemble in the throne room of the castle, where there was room enough for all that were able to attend. they found the straw man seated upon the velvet cushions of the throne, with the king's glittering crown still upon his stuffed head. on one side of the throne, in a lower chair, sat gloria, looking radiantly beautiful and fresh as a new-blown rose. on the other side sat pon, the gardener's boy, still dressed in his old smock frock and looking sad and solemn; for pon could not make himself believe that so splendid a princess would condescend to love him when she had come to her own and was seated upon a throne. trot and cap'n bill sat at the feet of the scarecrow and were much interested in the proceedings. button-bright had lost himself before breakfast, but came into the throne room before the ceremonies were over. back of the throne stood a row of the great orks, with their leader in the center, and the entrance to the palace was guarded by more orks, who were regarded with wonder and awe. when all were assembled, the scarecrow stood up and made a speech. he told how gloria's father, the good king kynd, who had once ruled them and been loved by everyone, had been destroyed by king phearce, the father of pon, and how king phearce had been destroyed by king krewl. this last king had been a bad ruler, as they knew very well, and the scarecrow declared that the only one in all jinxland who had the right to sit upon the throne was princess gloria, the daughter of king kynd. "but," he added, "it is not for me, a stranger, to say who shall rule you. you must decide for yourselves, or you will not be content. so choose now who shall be your future ruler." and they all shouted: "the scarecrow! the scarecrow shall rule us!" which proved that the stuffed man had made himself very popular by his conquest of king krewl, and the people thought they would like him for their king. but the scarecrow shook his head so vigorously that it became loose, and trot had to pin it firmly to his body again. "no," said he, "i belong in the land of oz, where i am the humble servant of the lovely girl who rules us all--the royal ozma. you must choose one of your own inhabitants to rule over jinxland. who shall it be?" they hesitated for a moment, and some few cried: "pon!" but many more shouted: "gloria!" so the scarecrow took gloria's hand and led her to the throne, where he first seated her and then took the glittering crown off his own head and placed it upon that of the young lady, where it nestled prettily amongst her soft curls. the people cheered and shouted then, kneeling before their new queen; but gloria leaned down and took pon's hand in both her own and raised him to the seat beside her. "you shall have both a king and a queen to care for you and to protect you, my dear subjects," she said in a sweet voice, while her face glowed with happiness; "for pon was a king's son before he became a gardener's boy, and because i love him he is to be my royal consort." that pleased them all, especially pon, who realized that this was the most important moment of his life. trot and button-bright and cap'n will all congratulated him on winning the beautiful gloria; but the ork sneezed twice and said that in his opinion the young lady might have done better. then the scarecrow ordered the guards to bring in the wicked krewl, king no longer, and when he appeared, loaded with chains and dressed in fustian, the people hissed him and drew back as he passed so their garments would not touch him. krewl was not haughty or overbearing any more; on the contrary he seemed very meek and in great fear of the fate his conquerors had in store for him. but gloria and pon were too happy to be revengeful and so they offered to appoint krewl to the position of gardener's boy at the castle, pon having resigned to become king. but they said he must promise to reform his wicked ways and to do his duty faithfully, and he must change his name from krewl to grewl. all this the man eagerly promised to do, and so when pon retired to a room in the castle to put on princely raiment, the old brown smock he had formerly worn was given to grewl, who then went out into the garden to water the roses. the remainder of that famous day, which was long remembered in jinxland, was given over to feasting and merrymaking. in the evening there was a grand dance in the courtyard, where the brass band played a new piece of music called the "ork trot" which was dedicated to "our glorious gloria, the queen." while the queen and pon were leading this dance, and all the jinxland people were having a good time, the strangers were gathered in a group in the park outside the castle. cap'n bill, trot, button-bright and the scarecrow were there, and so was their old friend the ork; but of all the great flock of orks which had assisted in the conquest but three remained in jinxland, besides their leader, the others having returned to their own country as soon as gloria was crowned queen. to the young ork who had accompanied them in their adventures cap'n bill said: "you've surely been a friend in need, and we're mighty grateful to you for helping us. i might have been a grasshopper yet if it hadn't been for you, an' i might remark that bein' a grasshopper isn't much fun." "if it hadn't been for you, friend ork," said the scarecrow, "i fear i could not have conquered king krewl." "no," agreed trot, "you'd have been just a heap of ashes by this time." "and i might have been lost yet," added button-bright. "much obliged, mr. ork." "oh, that's all right," replied the ork. "friends must stand together, you know, or they wouldn't be friends. but now i must leave you and be off to my own country, where there's going to be a surprise party on my uncle, and i've promised to attend it." "dear me," said the scarecrow, regretfully. "that is very unfortunate." "why so?" asked the ork. "i hoped you would consent to carry us over those mountains, into the land of oz. my mission here is now finished and i want to get back to the emerald city." "how did you cross the mountains before?" inquired the ork. "i scaled the cliffs by means of a rope, and crossed the great gulf on a strand of spider web. of course i can return in the same manner, but it would be a hard journey--and perhaps an impossible one--for trot and button-bright and cap'n bill. so i thought that if you had the time you and your people would carry us over the mountains and land us all safely on the other side, in the land of oz." the ork thoughtfully considered the matter for a while. then he said: "i mustn't break my promise to be present at the surprise party; but, tell me, could you go to oz to-night?" "what, now?" exclaimed trot. "it is a fine moonlight night," said the ork, "and i've found in my experience that there's no time so good as right away. the fact is," he explained, "it's a long journey to orkland and i and my cousins here are all rather tired by our day's work. but if you will start now, and be content to allow us to carry you over the mountains and dump you on the other side, just say the word and--off we go!" cap'n bill and trot looked at one another questioningly. the little girl was eager to visit the famous fairyland of oz and the old sailor had endured such hardships in jinxland that he would be glad to be out of it. "it's rather impolite of us not to say good-bye to the new king and queen," remarked the scarecrow, "but i'm sure they're too happy to miss us, and i assure you it will be much easier to fly on the backs of the orks over those steep mountains than to climb them as i did." "all right; let's go!" trot decided. "but where's button-bright?" just at this important moment button-bright was lost again, and they all scattered in search of him. he had been standing beside them just a few minutes before, but his friends had an exciting hunt for him before they finally discovered the boy seated among the members of the band, beating the end of the bass drum with the bone of a turkey-leg that he had taken from the table in the banquet room. "hello, trot," he said, looking up at the little girl when she found him. "this is the first chance i ever had to pound a drum with a reg'lar drum stick. and i ate all the meat off the bone myself." "come quick. we're going to the land of oz." "oh, what's the hurry?" said button-bright; but she seized his arm and dragged him away to the park, where the others were waiting. trot climbed upon the back of her old friend, the ork leader, and the others took their seats on the backs of his three cousins. as soon as all were placed and clinging to the skinny necks of the creatures, the revolving tails began to whirl and up rose the four monster orks and sailed away toward the mountains. they were so high in the air that when they passed the crest of the highest peak it seemed far below them. no sooner were they well across the barrier than the orks swooped downward and landed their passengers upon the ground. "here we are, safe in the land of oz!" cried the scarecrow joyfully. "oh, are we?" asked trot, looking around her curiously. she could see the shadows of stately trees and the outlines of rolling hills; beneath her feet was soft turf, but otherwise the subdued light of the moon disclosed nothing clearly. "seems jus' like any other country," was cap'n bill's comment. "but it isn't," the scarecrow assured him. "you are now within the borders of the most glorious fairyland in all the world. this part of it is just a corner of the quadling country, and the least interesting portion of it. it's not very thickly settled, around here, i'll admit, but--" he was interrupted by a sudden whir and a rush of air as the four orks mounted into the sky. "good night!" called the shrill voices of the strange creatures, and although trot shouted "good night!" as loudly as she could, the little girl was almost ready to cry because the orks had not waited to be properly thanked for all their kindness to her and to cap'n bill. but the orks were gone, and thanks for good deeds do not amount to much except to prove one's politeness. "well, friends," said the scarecrow, "we mustn't stay here in the meadows all night, so let us find a pleasant place to sleep. not that it matters to me, in the least, for i never sleep; but i know that meat people like to shut their eyes and lie still during the dark hours." "i'm pretty tired," admitted trot, yawning as she followed the straw man along a tiny path, "so, if you don't find a house handy, cap'n bill and i will sleep under the trees, or even on this soft grass." but a house was not very far off, although when the scarecrow stumbled upon it there was no light in it whatever. cap'n bill knocked on the door several times, and there being no response the scarecrow boldly lifted the latch and walked in, followed by the others. and no sooner had they entered than a soft light filled the room. trot couldn't tell where it came from, for no lamp of any sort was visible, but she did not waste much time on this problem, because directly in the center of the room stood a table set for three, with lots of good food on it and several of the dishes smoking hot. the little girl and button-bright both uttered exclamations of pleasure, but they looked in vain for any cook stove or fireplace, or for any person who might have prepared for them this delicious feast. "it's fairyland," muttered the boy, tossing his cap in a corner and seating himself at the table. "this supper smells 'most as good as that turkey-leg i had in jinxland. please pass the muffins, cap'n bill." trot thought it was strange that no people but themselves were in the house, but on the wall opposite the door was a gold frame bearing in big letters the word: "welcome." so she had no further hesitation in eating of the food so mysteriously prepared for them. "but there are only places for three!" she exclaimed. "three are quite enough," said the scarecrow. "i never eat, because i am stuffed full already, and i like my nice clean straw better than i do food." trot and the sailor-man were hungry and made a hearty meal, for not since they had left home had they tasted such good food. it was surprising that button-bright could eat so soon after his feast in jinxland, but the boy always ate whenever there was an opportunity. "if i don't eat now," he said, "the next time i'm hungry i'll wish i had." "really, cap'n," remarked trot, when she found a dish of ice-cream appear beside her plate, "i b'lieve this is fairyland, sure enough." "there's no doubt of it, trot," he answered gravely "i've been here before," said button-bright, "so i know." after supper they discovered three tiny bedrooms adjoining the big living room of the house, and in each room was a comfortable white bed with downy pillows. you may be sure that the tired mortals were not long in bidding the scarecrow good night and creeping into their beds, where they slept soundly until morning. for the first time since they set eyes on the terrible whirlpool, trot and cap'n bill were free from anxiety and care. button-bright never worried about anything. the scarecrow, not being able to sleep, looked out of the window and tried to count the stars. chapter twenty-one dorothy, betsy and ozma i suppose many of my readers have read descriptions of the beautiful and magnificent emerald city of oz, so i need not describe it here, except to state that never has any city in any fairyland ever equalled this one in stately splendor. it lies almost exactly in the center of the land of oz, and in the center of the emerald city rises the wall of glistening emeralds that surrounds the palace of ozma. the palace is almost a city in itself and is inhabited by many of the ruler's especial friends and those who have won her confidence and favor. as for ozma herself, there are no words in any dictionary i can find that are fitted to describe this young girl's beauty of mind and person. merely to see her is to love her for her charming face and manners; to know her is to love her for her tender sympathy, her generous nature, her truth and honor. born of a long line of fairy queens, ozma is as nearly perfect as any fairy may be, and she is noted for her wisdom as well as for her other qualities. her happy subjects adore their girl ruler and each one considers her a comrade and protector. at the time of which i write, ozma's best friend and most constant companion was a little kansas girl named dorothy, a mortal who had come to the land of oz in a very curious manner and had been offered a home in ozma's palace. furthermore, dorothy had been made a princess of oz, and was as much at home in the royal palace as was the gentle ruler. she knew almost every part of the great country and almost all of its numerous inhabitants. next to ozma she was loved better than anyone in all oz, for dorothy was simple and sweet, seldom became angry and had such a friendly, chummy way that she made friends where-ever she wandered. it was she who first brought the scarecrow and the tin woodman and the cowardly lion to the emerald city. dorothy had also introduced to ozma the shaggy man and the hungry tiger, as well as billina the yellow hen, eureka the pink kitten, and many other delightful characters and creatures. coming as she did from our world, dorothy was much like many other girls we know; so there were times when she was not so wise as she might have been, and other times when she was obstinate and got herself into trouble. but life in a fairy-land had taught the little girl to accept all sorts of surprising things as matters-of-course, for while dorothy was no fairy--but just as mortal as we are--she had seen more wonders than most mortals ever do. another little girl from our outside world also lived in ozma's palace. this was betsy bobbin, whose strange adventures had brought her to the emerald city, where ozma had cordially welcomed her. betsy was a shy little thing and could never get used to the marvels that surrounded her, but she and dorothy were firm friends and thought themselves very fortunate in being together in this delightful country. one day dorothy and betsy were visiting ozma in the girl ruler's private apartment, and among the things that especially interested them was ozma's magic picture, set in a handsome frame and hung upon the wall of the room. this picture was a magic one because it constantly changed its scenes and showed events and adventures happening in all parts of the world. thus it was really a "moving picture" of life, and if the one who stood before it wished to know what any absent person was doing, the picture instantly showed that person, with his or her surroundings. the two girls were not wishing to see anyone in particular, on this occasion, but merely enjoyed watching the shifting scenes, some of which were exceedingly curious and remarkable. suddenly dorothy exclaimed: "why, there's button-bright!" and this drew ozma also to look at the picture, for she and dorothy knew the boy well. "who is button-bright?" asked betsy, who had never met him. "why, he's the little boy who is just getting off the back of that strange flying creature," exclaimed dorothy. then she turned to ozma and asked: "what is that thing, ozma? a bird? i've never seen anything like it before." "it is an ork," answered ozma, for they were watching the scene where the ork and the three big birds were first landing their passengers in jinxland after the long flight across the desert. "i wonder," added the girl ruler, musingly, "why those strangers dare venture into that unfortunate country, which is ruled by a wicked king." "that girl, and the one-legged man, seem to be mortals from the outside world," said dorothy. "the man isn't one-legged," corrected betsy; "he has one wooden leg." "it's almost as bad," declared dorothy, watching cap'n bill stump around. "they are three mortal adventurers," said ozma, "and they seem worthy and honest. but i fear they will be treated badly in jinxland, and if they meet with any misfortune there it will reflect upon me, for jinxland is a part of my dominions." "can't we help them in any way?" inquired dorothy. "that seems like a nice little girl. i'd be sorry if anything happened to her." "let us watch the picture for awhile," suggested ozma, and so they all drew chairs before the magic picture and followed the adventures of trot and cap'n bill and button-bright. presently the scene shifted and showed their friend the scarecrow crossing the mountains into jinxland, and that somewhat relieved ozma's anxiety, for she knew at once that glinda the good had sent the scarecrow to protect the strangers. the adventures in jinxland proved very interesting to the three girls in ozma's palace, who during the succeeding days spent much of their time in watching the picture. it was like a story to them. "that girl's a reg'lar trump!" exclaimed dorothy, referring to trot, and ozma answered: "she's a dear little thing, and i'm sure nothing very bad will happen to her. the old sailor is a fine character, too, for he has never once grumbled over being a grasshopper, as so many would have done." when the scarecrow was so nearly burned up the girls all shivered a little, and they clapped their hands in joy when the flock of orks came and saved him. so it was that when all the exciting adventures in jinxland were over and the four orks had begun their flight across the mountains to carry the mortals into the land of oz, ozma called the wizard to her and asked him to prepare a place for the strangers to sleep. the famous wizard of oz was a quaint little man who inhabited the royal palace and attended to all the magical things that ozma wanted done. he was not as powerful as glinda, to be sure, but he could do a great many wonderful things. he proved this by placing a house in the uninhabited part of the quadling country where the orks landed cap'n bill and trot and button-bright, and fitting it with all the comforts i have described in the last chapter. next morning dorothy said to ozma: "oughtn't we to go meet the strangers, so we can show them the way to the emerald city? i'm sure that little girl will feel shy in this beautiful land, and i know if 'twas me i'd like somebody to give me a welcome." ozma smiled at her little friend and answered: "you and betsy may go to meet them, if you wish, but i can not leave my palace just now, as i am to have a conference with jack pumpkinhead and professor wogglebug on important matters. you may take the sawhorse and the red wagon, and if you start soon you will be able to meet the scarecrow and the strangers at glinda's palace." "oh, thank you!" cried dorothy, and went away to tell betsy and to make preparations for the journey. chapter twenty-two the waterfall glinda's castle was a long way from the mountains, but the scarecrow began the journey cheerfully, since time was of no great importance in the land of oz and he had recently made the trip and knew the way. it never mattered much to button-bright where he was or what he was doing; the boy was content in being alive and having good companions to share his wanderings. as for trot and cap'n bill, they now found themselves so comfortable and free from danger, in this fine fairyland, and they were so awed and amazed by the adventures they were encountering, that the journey to glinda's castle was more like a pleasure trip than a hardship, so many wonderful things were there to see. button-bright had been in oz before, but never in this part of it, so the scarecrow was the only one who knew the paths and could lead them. they had eaten a hearty breakfast, which they found already prepared for them and awaiting them on the table when they arose from their refreshing sleep, so they left the magic house in a contented mood and with hearts lighter and more happy than they had known for many a day. as they marched along through the fields, the sun shone brightly and the breeze was laden with delicious fragrance, for it carried with it the breath of millions of wildflowers. at noon, when they stopped to rest by the bank of a pretty river, trot said with a long-drawn breath that was much like a sigh: "i wish we'd brought with us some of the food that was left from our breakfast, for i'm getting hungry again." scarcely had she spoken when a table rose up before them, as if from the ground itself, and it was loaded with fruits and nuts and cakes and many other good things to eat. the little girl's eyes opened wide at this display of magic, and cap'n bill was not sure that the things were actually there and fit to eat until he had taken them in his hand and tasted them. but the scarecrow said with a laugh: "someone is looking after your welfare, that is certain, and from the looks of this table i suspect my friend the wizard has taken us in his charge. i've known him to do things like this before, and if we are in the wizard's care you need not worry about your future." "who's worrying?" inquired button-bright, already at the table and busily eating. the scarecrow looked around the place while the others were feasting, and finding many things unfamiliar to him he shook his head and remarked: "i must have taken the wrong path, back in that last valley, for on my way to jinxland i remember that i passed around the foot of this river, where there was a great waterfall." "did the river make a bend, after the waterfall?" asked cap'n bill. "no, the river disappeared. only a pool of whirling water showed what had become of the river; but i suppose it is under ground, somewhere, and will come to the surface again in another part of the country." "well," suggested trot, as she finished her luncheon, "as there is no way to cross this river, i s'pose we'll have to find that waterfall, and go around it." "exactly," replied the scarecrow; so they soon renewed their journey, following the river for a long time until the roar of the waterfall sounded in their ears. by and by they came to the waterfall itself, a sheet of silver dropping far, far down into a tiny lake which seemed to have no outlet. from the top of the fall, where they stood, the banks gradually sloped away, so that the descent by land was quite easy, while the river could do nothing but glide over an edge of rock and tumble straight down to the depths below. "you see," said the scarecrow, leaning over the brink, "this is called by our oz people the great waterfall, because it is certainly the highest one in all the land; but i think--help!" he had lost his balance and pitched headforemost into the river. they saw a flash of straw and blue clothes, and the painted face looking upward in surprise. the next moment the scarecrow was swept over the waterfall and plunged into the basin below. the accident had happened so suddenly that for a moment they were all too horrified to speak or move. "quick! we must go to help him or he will be drowned," trot exclaimed. even while speaking she began to descend the bank to the pool below, and cap'n bill followed as swiftly as his wooden leg would let him. button-bright came more slowly, calling to the girl: "he can't drown, trot; he's a scarecrow." but she wasn't sure a scarecrow couldn't drown and never relaxed her speed until she stood on the edge of the pool, with the spray dashing in her face. cap'n bill, puffing and panting, had just voice enough to ask, as he reached her side: "see him, trot?" "not a speck of him. oh, cap'n, what do you s'pose has become of him?" "i s'pose," replied the sailor, "that he's in that water, more or less far down, and i'm 'fraid it'll make his straw pretty soggy. but as fer his bein' drowned, i agree with button-bright that it can't be done." there was small comfort in this assurance and trot stood for some time searching with her eyes the bubbling water, in the hope that the scarecrow would finally come to the surface. presently she heard button-bright calling: "come here, trot!" and looking around she saw that the boy had crept over the wet rocks to the edge of the waterfall and seemed to be peering behind it. making her way toward him, she asked: "what do you see?" "a cave," he answered. "let's go in. p'r'aps we'll find the scarecrow there." she was a little doubtful of that, but the cave interested her, and so did it cap'n bill. there was just space enough at the edge of the sheet of water for them to crowd in behind it, but after that dangerous entrance they found room enough to walk upright and after a time they came to an opening in the wall of rock. approaching this opening, they gazed within it and found a series of steps, cut so that they might easily descend into the cavern. trot turned to look inquiringly at her companions. the falling water made such din and roaring that her voice could not be heard. cap'n bill nodded his head, but before he could enter the cave, button-bright was before him, clambering down the steps without a particle of fear. so the others followed the boy. the first steps were wet with spray, and slippery, but the remainder were quite dry. a rosy light seemed to come from the interior of the cave, and this lighted their way. after the steps there was a short tunnel, high enough for them to walk erect in, and then they reached the cave itself and paused in wonder and admiration. they stood on the edge of a vast cavern, the walls and domed roof of which were lined with countless rubies, exquisitely cut and flashing sparkling rays from one to another. this caused a radiant light that permitted the entire cavern to be distinctly seen, and the effect was so marvelous that trot drew in her breath with a sort of a gasp, and stood quite still in wonder. but the walls and roof of the cavern were merely a setting for a more wonderful scene. in the center was a bubbling caldron of water, for here the river rose again, splashing and dashing till its spray rose high in the air, where it took the ruby color of the jewels and seemed like a seething mass of flame. and while they gazed into the tumbling, tossing water, the body of the scarecrow suddenly rose in the center, struggling and kicking, and the next instant wholly disappeared from view. "my, but he's wet!" exclaimed button-bright; but none of the others heard him. trot and cap'n bill discovered that a broad ledge--covered, like the walls, with glittering rubies--ran all around the cavern; so they followed this gorgeous path to the rear and found where the water made its final dive underground, before it disappeared entirely. where it plunged into this dim abyss the river was black and dreary looking, and they stood gazing in awe until just beside them the body of the scarecrow again popped up from the water. chapter twenty three the land of oz the straw man's appearance on the water was so sudden that it startled trot, but cap'n bill had the presence of mind to stick his wooden leg out over the water and the scarecrow made a desperate clutch and grabbed the leg with both hands. he managed to hold on until trot and button-bright knelt down and seized his clothing, but the children would have been powerless to drag the soaked scarecrow ashore had not cap'n bill now assisted them. when they laid him on the ledge of rubies he was the most useless looking scarecrow you can imagine--his straw sodden and dripping with water, his clothing wet and crumpled, while even the sack upon which his face was painted had become so wrinkled that the old jolly expression of their stuffed friend's features was entirely gone. but he could still speak, and when trot bent down her ear she heard him say: "get me out of here as soon as you can." that seemed a wise thing to do, so cap'n bill lifted his head and shoulders, and trot and button-bright each took a leg; among them they partly carried and partly dragged the damp scarecrow out of the ruby cavern, along the tunnel, and up the flight of rock steps. it was somewhat difficult to get him past the edge of the waterfall, but they succeeded, after much effort, and a few minutes later laid their poor comrade on a grassy bank where the sun shone upon him freely and he was beyond the reach of the spray. cap'n bill now knelt down and examined the straw that the scarecrow was stuffed with. "i don't believe it'll be of much use to him, any more," said he, "for it's full of polliwogs an' fish eggs, an' the water has took all the crinkle out o' the straw an ruined it. i guess, trot, that the best thing for us to do is to empty out all his body an' carry his head an' clothes along the road till we come to a field or a house where we can get some fresh straw." "yes, cap'n," she agreed, "there's nothing else to be done. but how shall we ever find the road to glinda's palace, without the scarecrow to guide us?" "that's easy," said the scarecrow, speaking in a rather feeble but distinct voice. "if cap'n bill will carry my head on his shoulders, eyes front, i can tell him which way to go." so they followed that plan and emptied all the old, wet straw out of the scarecrow's body. then the sailor-man wrung out the clothes and laid them in the sun till they were quite dry. trot took charge of the head and pressed the wrinkles out of the face as it dried, so that after a while the scarecrow's expression became natural again, and as jolly as before. this work consumed some time, but when it was completed they again started upon their journey, button-bright carrying the boots and hat, trot the bundle of clothes, and cap'n bill the head. the scarecrow, having regained his composure and being now in a good humor, despite his recent mishaps, beguiled their way with stories of the land of oz. it was not until the next morning, however, that they found straw with which to restuff the scarecrow. that evening they came to the same little house they had slept in before, only now it was magically transferred to a new place. the same bountiful supper as before was found smoking hot upon the table and the same cosy beds were ready for them to sleep in. they rose early and after breakfast went out of doors, and there, lying just beside the house, was a heap of clean, crisp straw. ozma had noticed the scarecrow's accident in her magic picture and had notified the wizard to provide the straw, for she knew the adventurers were not likely to find straw in the country through which they were now traveling. they lost no time in stuffing the scarecrow anew, and he was greatly delighted at being able to walk around again and to assume the leadership of the little party. "really," said trot, "i think you're better than you were before, for you are fresh and sweet all through and rustle beautifully when you move." "thank you, my dear," he replied gratefully. "i always feel like a new man when i'm freshly stuffed. no one likes to get musty, you know, and even good straw may be spoiled by age." "it was water that spoiled you, the last time," remarked button-bright, "which proves that too much bathing is as bad as too little. but, after all, scarecrow, water is not as dangerous for you as fire." "all things are good in moderation," declared the scarecrow. "but now, let us hurry on, or we shall not reach glinda's palace by nightfall." chapter twenty-four the royal reception at about four o'clock of that same day the red wagon drew up at the entrance to glinda's palace and dorothy and betsy jumped out. ozma's red wagon was almost a chariot, being inlaid with rubies and pearls, and it was drawn by ozma's favorite steed, the wooden sawhorse. "shall i unharness you," asked dorothy, "so you can come in and visit?" "no," replied the sawhorse. "i'll just stand here and think. take your time. thinking doesn't seem to bore me at all." "what will you think of?" inquired betsy. "of the acorn that grew the tree from which i was made." so they left the wooden animal and went in to see glinda, who welcomed the little girls in her most cordial manner. "i knew you were on your way," said the good sorceress when they were seated in her library, "for i learned from my record book that you intended to meet trot and button-bright on their arrival here." "is the strange little girl named trot?" asked dorothy. "yes; and her companion, the old sailor, is named cap'n bill. i think we shall like them very much, for they are just the kind of people to enjoy and appreciate our fairyland and i do not see any way, at present, for them to return again to the outside world." "well, there's room enough here for them, i'm sure," said dorothy. "betsy and i are already eager to welcome trot. it will keep us busy for a year, at least, showing her all the wonderful things in oz." glinda smiled. "i have lived here many years," said she, "and i have not seen all the wonders of oz yet." meantime the travelers were drawing near to the palace, and when they first caught sight of its towers trot realized that it was far more grand and imposing than was the king's castle in jinxland. the nearer they came, the more beautiful the palace appeared, and when finally the scarecrow led them up the great marble steps, even button-bright was filled with awe. "i don't see any soldiers to guard the place," said the little girl. "there is no need to guard glinda's palace," replied the scarecrow. "we have no wicked people in oz, that we know of, and even if there were any, glinda's magic would be powerful enough to protect her." button-bright was now standing on the top steps of the entrance, and he suddenly exclaimed: "why, there's the sawhorse and the red wagon! hip, hooray!" and next moment he was rushing down to throw his arms around the neck of the wooden horse, which good-naturedly permitted this familiarity when it recognized in the boy an old friend. button-bright's shout had been heard inside the palace, so now dorothy and betsy came running out to embrace their beloved friend, the scarecrow, and to welcome trot and cap'n bill to the land of oz. "we've been watching you for a long time, in ozma's magic picture," said dorothy, "and ozma has sent us to invite you to her own palace in the em'rald city. i don't know if you realize how lucky you are to get that invitation, but you'll understand it better after you've seen the royal palace and the em'rald city." glinda now appeared in person to lead all the party into her azure reception room. trot was a little afraid of the stately sorceress, but gained courage by holding fast to the hands of betsy and dorothy. cap'n bill had no one to help him feel at ease, so the old sailor sat stiffly on the edge of his chair and said: "yes, ma'am," or "no, ma'am," when he was spoken to, and was greatly embarrassed by so much splendor. the scarecrow had lived so much in palaces that he felt quite at home, and he chatted to glinda and the oz girls in a merry, light-hearted way. he told all about his adventures in jinxland, and at the great waterfall, and on the journey hither--most of which his hearers knew already--and then he asked dorothy and betsy what had happened in the emerald city since he had left there. they all passed the evening and the night at glinda's palace, and the sorceress was so gracious to cap'n bill that the old man by degrees regained his self-possession and began to enjoy himself. trot had already come to the conclusion that in dorothy and betsy she had found two delightful comrades, and button-bright was just as much at home here as he had been in the fields of jinxland or when he was buried in the popcorn snow of the land of mo. the next morning they arose bright and early and after breakfast bade good-bye to the kind sorceress, whom trot and cap'n bill thanked earnestly for sending the scarecrow to jinxland to rescue them. then they all climbed into the red wagon. there was room for all on the broad seats, and when all had taken their places--dorothy, trot and betsy on the rear seat and cap'n bill, button-bright and the scarecrow in front--they called "gid-dap!" to the sawhorse and the wooden steed moved briskly away, pulling the red wagon with ease. it was now that the strangers began to perceive the real beauties of the land of oz, for they were passing through a more thickly settled part of the country and the population grew more dense as they drew nearer to the emerald city. everyone they met had a cheery word or a smile for the scarecrow, dorothy and betsy bobbin, and some of them remembered button-bright and welcomed him back to their country. it was a happy party, indeed, that journeyed in the red wagon to the emerald city, and trot already began to hope that ozma would permit her and cap'n bill to live always in the land of oz. when they reached the great city they were more amazed than ever, both by the concourse of people in their quaint and picturesque costumes, and by the splendor of the city itself. but the magnificence of the royal palace quite took their breath away, until ozma received them in her own pretty apartment and by her charming manners and assuring smiles made them feel they were no longer strangers. trot was given a lovely little room next to that of dorothy, while cap'n bill had the cosiest sort of a room next to trot's and overlooking the gardens. and that evening ozma gave a grand banquet and reception in honor of the new arrivals. while trot had read of many of the people she then met, cap'n bill was less familiar with them and many of the unusual characters introduced to him that evening caused the old sailor to open his eyes wide in astonishment. he had thought the live scarecrow about as curious as anyone could be, but now he met the tin woodman, who was all made of tin, even to his heart, and carried a gleaming axe over his shoulder wherever he went. then there was jack pumpkinhead, whose head was a real pumpkin with the face carved upon it; and professor wogglebug, who had the shape of an enormous bug but was dressed in neat fitting garments. the professor was an interesting talker and had very polite manners, but his face was so comical that it made cap'n bill smile to look at it. a great friend of dorothy and ozma seemed to be a machine man called tik-tok, who ran down several times during the evening and had to be wound up again by someone before he could move or speak. at the reception appeared the shaggy man and his brother, both very popular in oz, as well as dorothy's uncle henry and aunt em, two happy old people who lived in a pretty cottage near the palace. but what perhaps seemed most surprising to both trot and cap'n bill was the number of peculiar animals admitted into ozma's parlors, where they not only conducted themselves quite properly but were able to talk as well as anyone. there was the cowardly lion, an immense beast with a beautiful mane; and the hungry tiger, who smiled continually; and eureka the pink kitten, who lay curled upon a cushion and had rather supercilious manners; and the wooden sawhorse; and nine tiny piglets that belonged to the wizard; and a mule named hank, who belonged to betsy bobbin. a fuzzy little terrier dog, named toto, lay at dorothy's feet but seldom took part in the conversation, although he listened to every word that was said. but the most wonderful of all to trot was a square beast with a winning smile, that squatted in a corner of the room and wagged his square head at everyone in quite a jolly way. betsy told trot that this unique beast was called the woozy, and there was no other like him in all the world. cap'n bill and trot had both looked around expectantly for the wizard of oz, but the evening was far advanced before the famous little man entered the room. but he went up to the strangers at once and said: "i know you, but you don't know me; so let's get acquainted." and they did get acquainted, in a very short time, and before the evening was over trot felt that she knew every person and animal present at the reception, and that they were all her good friends. suddenly they looked around for button-bright, but he was nowhere to be found. "dear me!" cried trot. "he's lost again." "never mind, my dear," said ozma, with her charming smile, "no one can go far astray in the land of oz, and if button-bright isn't lost occasionally, he isn't happy." the wonderful oz books by l. frank baum the wizard of oz the land of oz ozma of oz dorothy and the wizard in oz the road to oz the emerald city of oz the patchwork girl of oz tik-tok of oz the scarecrow of oz rinkitink in oz the lost princess of oz the tin woodman of oz the magic of oz glinda of oz images of public domain material from the google books project.) transcriber notes text emphasis id denoted as _italics_ and =bold=. +--------------------------------------------------------------+ | | | the | | | | scarecrow of oz | | | | | | | | by | | | | l. frank baum | | | +--------------------------------------------------------------+ [illustration] ===== the famous oz books ===== since 1900, when l. frank baum introduced to the children of america the wonderful wizard of oz and all the other exciting characters who inhabit the land of oz, these delightful fairy tales have stimulated the imagination of millions of young readers. these are stories which are genuine fantasy creative, funny, tender, exciting and surprising. filled with the rarest and most absurd creatures, each of the 14 volumes which now comprise the series, has been eagerly sought out by generation after generation until to-day they are known to all except the very young or those who were never young at all. when, in a recent survey, the =new york times= polled a group of teen agers on the books they liked best when they were young, the oz books topped the list. the famous oz books ------------------ by l. frank baum: the wizard of oz the land of oz ozma of oz dorothy and the wizard in oz the road to oz the emerald city of oz the patchwork girl of oz tik-tok of oz the scarecrow of oz rinkitink in oz the lost princess of oz the tin woodman of oz the magic of oz glinda of oz chicago the reilly & lee co. _publishers_ [illustration: the scarecrow _of_ oz] dedicated to "the uplifters" of los angeles, california, in grateful appreciation of the pleasure i have derived from association with them, and in recognition of their sincere endeavor to uplift humanity through kindness, consideration and good-fellowship. they are big men all of them and all with the generous hearts of little children. l. frank baum [illustration] +--------------------------------------------------------------+ | | | the | | | | =scarecrow of oz= | | | | | | by | | | | l. frank baum | | | | author of | | | | the road to oz, dorothy and the wizard in oz, the emerald | | city of oz, the land of oz, ozma of oz. the patchwork girl | | of oz, tik-tok of oz | | | | | | | | [illustration] | | | | | | | | illustrated by | | john r. neill | | | | | | =the reilly & lee co= | | chicago | | | +--------------------------------------------------------------+ +--------------------------------------------------------------+ | | | copyright | | | | 1915 by | | | | l frank baum | | | | all | | | | rights reserved | | | +--------------------------------------------------------------+ [illustration] 'twixt you and me the army of children which besieged the postoffice, conquered the postmen and delivered to me its imperious commands, insisted that trot and cap'n bill be admitted to the land of oz, where trot could enjoy the society of dorothy, betsy bobbin and ozma, while the one-legged sailor-man might become a comrade of the tin woodman, the shaggy man, tik-tok and all the other quaint people who inhabit this wonderful fairyland. it was no easy task to obey this order and land trot and cap'n bill safely in oz, as you will discover by reading this book. indeed, it required the best efforts of our dear old friend, the scarecrow, to save them from a dreadful fate on the journey; but the story leaves them happily located in ozma's splendid palace and dorothy has promised me that button-bright and the three girls are sure to encounter, in the near future, some marvelous adventures in the land of oz, which i hope to be permitted to relate to you in the next oz book. meantime, i am deeply grateful to my little readers for their continued enthusiasm over the oz stories, as evinced in the many letters they send me, all of which are lovingly cherished. it takes more and more oz books every year to satisfy the demands of old and new readers, and there have been formed many "oz reading societies," where the oz books owned by different members are read aloud. all this is very gratifying to me and encourages me to write more oz stories. when the children have had enough of them, i hope they will let me know, and then i'll try to write something different. l. frank baum "royal historian of oz." "ozcot" at hollywood in california, 1915. [illustration] list of chapters 1 the great whirlpool 18 2 cavern under the sea 22 3 the ork 33 4 daylight at last! 52 5 the little old man of the island 62 6 the flight of the midgets 82 7 the bumpy man 89 8 button-bright is lost, and found again 101 9 the kingdom of jinxland 119 10 pon, the gardener's boy 131 11 the wicked king and googly-goo 138 12 the wooden-legged grasshopper 151 13 glinda the good and the scarecrow of oz 167 14 the frozen heart 178 15 trot meets the scarecrow 195 16 pon summons the king to surrender 204 17 the ork rescues button-bright 213 18 the scarecrow meets an enemy 220 19 the conquest of the witch 230 20 queen gloria 241 21 dorothy, betsy and ozma 255 22 the waterfall 264 23 the land of oz 273 24 the royal reception 278 [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: cap'n bill] chapter 1 the great whirlpool "seems to me," said cap'n bill, as he sat beside trot under the big acacia tree, looking out over the blue ocean, "seems to me, trot, as how the more we know, the more we find we don't know." "i can't quite make that out, cap'n bill," answered the little girl in a serious voice, after a moment's thought, during which her eyes followed those of the old sailor-man across the glassy surface of the sea. "seems to me that all we learn is jus' so much gained." "i know; it looks that way at first sight," said the sailor, nodding his head; "but those as knows the least have a habit of thinkin' they know all there is to know, while them as knows the most admits what a turr'ble big world this is. it's the knowing ones that realize one lifetime ain't long enough to git more'n a few dips o' the oars of knowledge." trot didn't answer. she was a very little girl, with big, solemn eyes and an earnest, simple manner. cap'n bill had been her faithful companion for years and had taught her almost everything she knew. he was a wonderful man, this cap'n bill. not so very old, although his hair was grizzled--what there was of it. most of his head was bald as an egg and as shiny as oilcloth, and this made his big ears stick out in a funny way. his eyes had a gentle look and were pale blue in color, and his round face was rugged and bronzed. cap'n bill's left leg was missing, from the knee down, and that was why the sailor no longer sailed the seas. the wooden leg he wore was good enough to stump around with on land, or even to take trot out for a row or a sail on the ocean, but when it came to "runnin' up aloft" or performing active duties on shipboard, the old sailor was not equal to the task. the loss of his leg had ruined his career and the old sailor found comfort in devoting himself to the education and companionship of the little girl. [illustration: the old sailor devoted himself to the education of the little girl.] the accident to cap'n bill's leg had happened at about the time trot was born, and ever since that he had lived with trot's mother as "a star boarder," having enough money saved up to pay for his weekly "keep." he loved the baby and often held her on his lap; her first ride was on cap'n bill's shoulders, for she had no baby-carriage; and when she began to toddle around, the child and the sailor became close comrades and enjoyed many strange adventures together. it is said the fairies had been present at trot's birth and had marked her forehead with their invisible mystic signs, so that she was able to see and do many wonderful things. the acacia tree was on top of a high bluff, but a path ran down the bank in a zigzag way to the water's edge, where cap'n bill's boat was moored to a rock by means of a stout cable. it had been a hot, sultry afternoon, with scarcely a breath of air stirring, so cap'n bill and trot had been quietly sitting beneath the shade of the tree, waiting for the sun to get low enough for them to take a row. they had decided to visit one of the great caves which the waves had washed out of the rocky coast during many years of steady effort. the caves were a source of continual delight to both the girl and the sailor, who loved to explore their awesome depths. "i b'lieve, cap'n," remarked trot, at last, "that it's time for us to start." the old man cast a shrewd glance at the sky, the sea and the motionless boat. then he shook his head. "mebbe it's time, trot," he answered, "but i don't jes' like the looks o' things this afternoon." "what's wrong?" she asked wonderingly. "can't say as to that. things is too quiet to suit me, that's all. no breeze, not a ripple a-top the water, nary a gull a-flyin' anywhere, an' the end o' the hottest day o' the year. i ain't no weather-prophet, trot, but any sailor would know the signs is ominous." "there's nothing wrong that i can see," said trot. "if there was a cloud in the sky even as big as my thumb, we might worry about it; but--look, cap'n!--the sky is as clear as can be." he looked again and nodded. "p'r'aps we can make the cave, all right," he agreed, not wishing to disappoint her. "it's only a little way out, an' we'll be on the watch; so come along, trot." together they descended the winding path to the beach. it was no trouble for the girl to keep her footing on the steep way, but cap'n bill, because of his wooden leg, had to hold on to rocks and roots now and then to save himself from tumbling. on a level path he was as spry as anyone, but to climb up hill or down required some care. they reached the boat safely and while trot was untying the rope cap'n bill reached into a crevice of the rock and drew out several tallow candles and a box of wax matches, which he thrust into the capacious pockets of his "sou'wester." this sou'wester was a short coat of oilskin which the old sailor wore on all occasions--when he wore a coat at all--and the pockets always contained a variety of objects, useful and ornamental, which made even trot wonder where they all came from and why cap'n bill should treasure them. the jackknives--a big one and a little one--the bits of cord, the fishhooks, the nails: these were handy to have on certain occasions. but bits of shell, and tin boxes with unknown contents, buttons, pincers, bottles of curious stones and the like, seemed quite unnecessary to carry around. that was cap'n bill's business, however, and now that he added the candles and the matches to his collection trot made no comment, for she knew these last were to light their way through the caves. the sailor always rowed the boat, for he handled the oars with strength and skill. trot sat in the stern and steered. the place where they embarked was a little bight or circular bay, and the boat cut across a much larger bay toward a distant headland where the caves were located, right at the water's edge. they were nearly a mile from shore and about half-way across the bay when trot suddenly sat up straight and exclaimed: "what's that, cap'n?" he stopped rowing and turned half around to look. [illustration] "that, trot," he slowly replied, "looks to me mighty like a whirlpool." "what makes it, cap'n?" "a whirl in the air makes the whirl in the water. i was afraid as we'd meet with trouble, trot. things didn't look right. the air was too still." "it's coming closer," said the girl. the old man grabbed the oars and began rowing with all his strength. "'tain't comin' closer to us, trot," he gasped; "it's we that are comin' closer to the whirlpool. the thing is drawin' us to it like a magnet!" trot's sun-bronzed face was a little paler as she grasped the tiller firmly and tried to steer the boat away; but she said not a word to indicate fear. the swirl of the water as they came nearer made a roaring sound that was fearful to listen to. so fierce and powerful was the whirlpool that it drew the surface of the sea into the form of a great basin, slanting downward toward the center, where a big hole had been made in the ocean--a hole with walls of water that were kept in place by the rapid whirling of the air. the boat in which trot and cap'n bill were riding was just on the outer edge of this saucer-like slant, and the old sailor knew very well that unless he could quickly force the little craft away from the rushing current they would soon be drawn into the great black hole that yawned in the middle. so he exerted all his might and pulled as he had never pulled before. he pulled so hard that the left oar snapped in two and sent cap'n bill sprawling upon the bottom of the boat. he scrambled up quickly enough and glanced over the side. then he looked at trot, who sat quite still, with a serious, far-away look in her sweet eyes. the boat was now speeding swiftly of its own accord, following the line of the circular basin round and round and gradually drawing nearer to the great hole in the center. any further effort to escape the whirlpool was useless, and realizing this fact cap'n bill turned toward trot and put an arm around her, as if to shield her from the awful fate before them. he did not try to speak, because the roar of the waters would have drowned the sound of his voice. these two faithful comrades had faced dangers before, but nothing to equal that which now faced them. yet cap'n bill, noting the look in trot's eyes and remembering how often she had been protected by unseen powers, did not quite give way to despair. the great hole in the dark water--now growing nearer and nearer--looked very terrifying; but they were both brave enough to face it and await the result of the adventure. [illustration] chapter 2 the cavern under the sea the circles were so much smaller at the bottom of the basin, and the boat moved so much more swiftly, that trot was beginning to get dizzy with the motion, when suddenly the boat made a leap and dived headlong into the murky depths of the hole. whirling like tops, but still clinging together, the sailor and the girl were separated from their boat and plunged down--down--down--into the farthermost recesses of the great ocean. at first their fall was swift as an arrow, but presently they seemed to be going more moderately and trot was almost sure that unseen arms were about her, supporting her and protecting her. she could see nothing, because the water filled her eyes and blurred her vision, but she clung fast to cap'n bill's sou'wester, while other arms clung fast to her, and so they gradually sank down and down until a full stop was made, when they began to ascend again. but it seemed to trot that they were not rising straight to the surface from where they had come. the water was no longer whirling them and they seemed to be drawn in a slanting direction through still, cool ocean depths. and then--in much quicker time than i have told it--up they popped to the surface and were cast at full length upon a sandy beach, where they lay choking and gasping for breath and wondering what had happened to them. trot was the first to recover. disengaging herself from cap'n bill's wet embrace and sitting up, she rubbed the water from her eyes and then looked around her. a soft, bluish-green glow lighted the place, which seemed to be a sort of cavern, for above and on either side of her were rugged rocks. they had been cast upon a beach of clear sand, which slanted upward from the pool of water at their feet--a pool which doubtless led into the big ocean that fed it. above the reach of the waves of the pool were more rocks, and still more and more, into the dim windings and recesses of which the glowing light from the water did not penetrate. the place looked grim and lonely, but trot was thankful that she was still alive and had suffered no severe injury during her trying adventure under water. at her side cap'n bill was sputtering and coughing, trying to get rid of the water he had swallowed. both of them were soaked through, yet the cavern was warm and comfortable and a wetting did not dismay the little girl in the least. she crawled up the slant of sand and gathered in her hand a bunch of dried seaweed, with which she mopped the face of cap'n bill and cleared the water from his eyes and ears. presently the old man sat up and stared at her intently. then he nodded his bald head three times and said in a gurgling voice: "mighty good, trot; mighty good! we didn't reach davy jones's locker that time, did we? though why we didn't, an' why we're here, is more'n i kin make out." "take it easy, cap'n," she replied. "we're safe enough, i guess, at least for the time being." he squeezed the water out of the bottoms of his loose trousers and felt of his wooden leg and arms and head, and finding he had brought all of his person with him he gathered courage to examine closely their surroundings. "where d'ye think we are, trot?" he presently asked. "can't say, cap'n. p'r'aps in one of our caves." he shook his head. "no," said he, "i don't think that, at all. the distance we came up didn't seem half as far as the distance we went down; an' you'll notice there ain't any outside entrance to this cavern whatever. it's a reg'lar dome over this pool o' water, and unless there's some passage at the back, up yonder, we're fast pris'ners." trot looked thoughtfully over her shoulder. "when we're rested," she said, "we will crawl up there and see if there's a way to get out." cap'n bill reached in the pocket of his oilskin coat and took out his pipe. it was still dry, for he kept it in an oilskin pouch with his tobacco. his matches were in a tight tin box, so in a few moments the old sailor was smoking contentedly. trot knew it helped him to think when he was in any difficulty. also, the pipe did much to restore the old sailor's composure, after his long ducking and his terrible fright--a fright that was more on trot's account than his own. the sand was dry where they sat, and soaked up the water that dripped from their clothing. when trot had squeezed the wet out of her hair she began to feel much like her old self again. by and by they got upon their feet and crept up the incline to the scattered boulders above. some of these were of huge size, but by passing between some and around others, they were able to reach the extreme rear of the cavern. "yes," said trot, with interest, "here's a round hole." "and it's black as night inside it," remarked cap'n bill. "just the same," answered the girl, "we ought to explore it, and see where it goes, 'cause it's the only poss'ble way we can get out of this place." cap'n bill eyed the hole doubtfully. "it may be a way out o' here, trot," he said, "but it may be a way into a far worse place than this. i'm not sure but our best plan is to stay right here." trot wasn't sure, either, when she thought of it in that light.. after awhile she made her way back to the sands again, and cap'n bill followed her. as they sat down, the child looked thoughtfully at the sailor's bulging pockets. [illustration: trot] "how much food have we got, cap'n?" she asked. "half a dozen ship's biscuits an' a hunk o' cheese," he replied. "want some now, trot?" she shook her head, saying: "that ought to keep us alive 'bout three days if we're careful of it." "longer'n that, trot," said cap'n bill, but his voice was a little troubled and unsteady. "but if we stay here we're bound to starve in time," continued the girl, "while if we go into the dark hole--" "some things are more hard to face than starvation," said the sailor-man, gravely. "we don't know what's inside that dark hole. trot, nor where it might lead us to." "there's a way to find that out," she persisted. instead of replying, cap'n bill began searching in his pockets. he soon drew out a little package of fishhooks and a long line. trot watched him join them together. then he crept a little way up the slope and turned over a big rock. two or three small crabs began scurrying away over the sands and the old sailor caught them and put one on his hook and the others in his pocket. coming back to the pool he swung the hook over his shoulder and circled it around his head and cast it nearly into the center of the water, where he allowed it to sink gradually, paying out the line as far as it would go. when the end was reached, he began drawing it in again, until the crab bait was floating on the surface. trot watched him cast the line a second time, and a third. she decided that either there were no fishes in the pool or they would not bite the crab bait. but cap'n bill was an old fisherman and not easily discouraged. when the crab got away he put another on the hook. when the crabs were all gone he climbed up the rocks and found some more. meantime trot tired of watching him and lay down upon the sands, where she fell fast asleep. during the next two hours her clothing dried completely, as did that of the old sailor. they were both so used to salt water that there was no danger of taking cold. finally the little girl was wakened by a splash beside her and a grunt of satisfaction from cap'n bill. she opened her eyes to find that the cap'n had landed a silver-scaled fish weighing about two pounds. this cheered her considerably and she hurried to scrape together a heap of seaweed, while cap'n bill cut up the fish with his jackknife and got it ready for cooking. they had cooked fish with seaweed before. cap'n bill wrapped his fish in some of the weed and dipped it in the water to dampen it. then he lighted a match and set fire to trot's heap, which speedily burned down to a glowing bed of ashes. then they laid the wrapped fish on the ashes, covered it with more seaweed, and allowed this to catch fire and burn to embers. after feeding the fire with seaweed for some time, the sailor finally decided that their supper was ready, so he scattered the ashes and drew out the bits of fish, still encased in their smoking wrappings. when these wrappings were removed, the fish was found thoroughly cooked and both trot and cap'n bill ate of it freely. it had a slight flavor of seaweed and would have been better with a sprinkling of salt. the soft glow which until now had lighted the cavern, began to grow dim, but there was a great quantity of seaweed in the place, so after they had eaten their fish they kept the fire alive for a time by giving it a handful of fuel now and then. from an inner pocket the sailor drew a small flask of battered metal and unscrewing the cap handed it to trot. she took but one swallow of the water, although she wanted more, and she noticed that cap'n bill merely wet his lips with it. "s'pose," said she, staring at the glowing seaweed fire and speaking slowly, "that we can catch all the fish we need; how 'bout the drinking-water, cap'n?" he moved uneasily but did not reply. both of them were thinking about the dark hole, but while trot had little fear of it the old man could not overcome his dislike to enter the place. he knew that trot was right, though. to remain in the cavern, where they now were, could only result in slow but sure death. it was nighttime upon the earth's surface, so the little girl became drowsy and soon fell asleep. after a time the old sailor slumbered on the sands beside her. it was very still and nothing disturbed them for hours. when at last they awoke the cavern was light again. they had divided one of the biscuits and were munching it for breakfast when they were startled by a sudden splash in the pool. looking toward it they saw emerging from the water the most curious creature either of them had ever beheld. it wasn't a fish, trot decided, nor was it a beast. it had wings, though, and queer wings they were: shaped like an inverted chopping-bowl and covered with tough skin instead of feathers. it had four legs--much like the legs of a stork, only double the number--and its head was shaped a good deal like that of a poll parrot, with a beak that curved downward in front and upward at the edges, and was half bill and half mouth. but to call it a bird was out of the question, because it had 110 feathers whatever except a crest of wavy plumes of a scarlet color on the very top of its head. the strange creature must have weighed as much as cap'n bill, and as it floundered and struggled to get out of the water to the sandy beach it was so big and unusual that both trot and her companion stared at it in wonder--in wonder that was not unmixed with fear. [illustration] [illustration] chapter 3 the ork the eyes that regarded them, as the creature stood dripping before them, were bright and mild in expression, and the queer addition to their party made no attempt to attack them and seemed quite as surprised by the meeting as they were. "i wonder," whispered trot, "what it is." "who, me?" exclaimed the creature in a shrill, high-pitched voice. "why, i'm an ork." "oh!" said the girl. "but what is an ork?" "i am," he repeated, a little proudly, as he shook the water from his funny wings; "and if ever an ork was glad to be out of the water and on dry land again, you can be mighty sure that i'm that especial, individual ork!" "have you been in the water long?" inquired cap'n bill, thinking it only polite to show an interest in the strange creature.. "why, this last ducking was about ten minutes, i believe, and that's about nine minutes and sixty seconds too long for comfort," was the reply. "but last night i was in an awful pickle, i assure you. the whirlpool caught me, and--" "oh, were you in the whirlpool, too?" asked trot eagerly. he gave her a glance that was somewhat reproachful. "i believe i was mentioning the fact, young lady, when your desire to talk interrupted me," said the ork. "i am not usually careless in my actions, but that whirlpool was so busy yesterday that i thought i'd see what mischief it was up to. so i flew a little too near it and the suction of the air drew me down into the depths of the ocean. water and i are natural enemies, and it would have conquered me this time had not a bevy of pretty mermaids come to my assistance and dragged me away from the whirling water and far up into a cavern, where they deserted me." "why, that's about the same thing that happened to us," cried trot. "was your cavern like this one?" "i haven't examined this one yet," answered the ork; "but if they happen to be alike i shudder at our fate, for the other one was a prison, with no outlet except by means of the water. i stayed there all night, however, and this morning i plunged into the pool, as far down as i could go, and then swam as hard and as far as i could. the rocks scraped my back, now and then, and i barely escaped the clutches of an ugly sea-monster; but by and by i came to the surface to catch my breath, and found myself here. that's the whole story, and as i see you have something to eat i entreat you to give me a share of it. the truth is, i'm half starved." with these words the ork squatted down beside them. very reluctantly cap'n bill drew another biscuit from his pocket and held it out. the ork promptly seized it in one of its front claws and began to nibble the biscuit in much the same manner a parrot might have done. "we haven't much grub," said the sailor-man, "but we're willin' to share it with a comrade in distress." "that's right," returned the ork, cocking its head sidewise in a cheerful manner, and then for a few minutes there was silence while they all ate of the biscuits. after a while trot said: "i've never seen or heard of an ork before. are there many of you?" "we are rather few and exclusive, i believe," was the reply. "in the country where i was born we are the absolute rulers of all living things, from ants to elephants." "what country is that?" asked cap'n bill. "orkland." "where does it lie?" "i don't know, exactly. you see, i have a restless nature, for some reason, while all the rest of my race are quiet and contented orks and seldom stray far from home. from childhood days i loved to fly long distances away, although father often warned me that i would get into trouble by so doing. "'it's a big world, flipper, my son,' he would say, 'and i've heard that in parts of it live queer two-legged creatures called men, who war upon all other living things and would have little respect for even an ork.' "this naturally aroused my curiosity and after i had completed my education and left school i decided to fly out into the world and try to get a glimpse of the creatures called men. so i left home without saying good-bye, an act i shall always regret. adventures were many, i found. i sighted men several times, but have never before been so close to them as now. also i had to fight my way through the air, for i met gigantic birds, with fluffy feathers all over them, which attacked me fiercely. besides, it kept me busy escaping from floating airships. in my rambling i had lost all track of distance or direction, so that when i wanted to go home i had no idea where my country was located. i've now been trying to find it for several months and it was during one of my flights over the ocean that i met the whirlpool and became its victim." trot and cap'n bill listened to this recital with much interest, and from the friendly tone and harmless appearance of the ork they judged he was not likely to prove so disagreeable a companion as at first they had feared he might be. the ork sat upon its haunches much as a cat does, but used the finger-like claws of its front legs almost as cleverly as if they were hands. perhaps the most curious thing about the creature was its tail, or what ought to have been its tail. this queer arrangement of skin, bones and muscle was shaped like the propellers used on boats and airships, having fan-like surfaces and being pivoted to its body. cap'n bill knew something of mechanics, and observing the propeller-like tail of the ork he said: "i s'pose you're a pretty swift flyer?" "yes, indeed; the orks are admitted to be kings of the air." "your wings don't seem to amount to much," remarked trot. "well, they are not very big," admitted the ork, waving the four hollow skins gently to and fro, "but they serve to support my body in the air while i speed along by means of my tail. still, taken altogether, i'm very handsomely formed, don't you think?" trot did not like to reply, but cap'n bill nodded gravely. "for an ork," said he, "you're a wonder. i've never seen one afore, but i can imagine you're as good as any." that seemed to please the creature and it began walking around the cavern, making its way easily up the slope. while it was gone, trot and cap'n bill each took another sip from the water-flask, to wash down their breakfast. "why, here's a hole--an exit--an outlet!" exclaimed the ork from above. "we know," said trot. "we found it last night." "well, then, let's be off," continued the ork, after sticking its head into the black hole and sniffing once or twice. "the air seems fresh and sweet, and it can't lead us to any worse place than this." [illustration] the girl and the sailor-man got up and climbed to the side of the ork. "we'd about decided to explore this hole before you came," explained cap'n bill; "but it's a dangerous place to navigate in the dark, so wait till i light a candle." "what is a candle?" inquired the ork. "you'll see in a minute," said trot. the old sailor drew one of the candles from his right-side pocket and the tin matchbox from his left-side pocket. when he lighted the match the ork gave a startled jump and eyed the flame suspiciously; but cap'n bill proceeded to light the candle and the action interested the ork very much. "light," it said, somewhat nervously, "is valuable in a hole of this sort. the candle is not dangerous, i hope?" "sometimes it burns your fingers," answered trot, "but that's about the worst it can do--'cept to blow out when you don't want it to." cap'n bill shielded the flame with his hand and crept into the hole. it wasn't any too big for a grown man, but after he had crawled a few feet it grew larger. trot came close behind him and then the ork followed. "seems like a reg'lar tunnel," muttered the sailor-man, who was creeping along awkwardly because of his wooden leg. the rocks, too, hurt his knees. for nearly half an hour the three moved slowly along the tunnel, which made many twists and turns and sometimes slanted downward and sometimes upward. finally cap'n bill stopped short, with an exclamation of disappointment, and held the flickering candle far ahead to light the scene. "what's wrong?' demanded trot, who could see nothing because the sailor's form completely filled the hole. "why, we've come to the end of our travels, i guess," he replied. "is the hole blocked?" inquired the ork. "no; it's wuss nor that," replied cap'n bill sadly. "i'm on the edge of a precipice. wait a minute an' i'll move along and let you see for yourselves. be careful, trot, not to fall." then he crept forward a little and moved to one side, holding the candle so that the girl could see to follow him. the ork came next and now all three knelt on a narrow ledge of rock which dropped straight away and left a huge black space which the tiny flame of the candle could not illuminate. "h-m!" said the ork, peering over the edge; "this doesn't look very promising, i'll admit. but let me take your candle, and i'll fly down and see what's below us." "aren't you afraid?" asked trot. "certainly i'm afraid," responded the ork. "but if we intend to escape we can't stay on this shelf forever. so, as i notice you poor creatures cannot fly, it is my duty to explore the place for you." cap'n bill handed the ork the candle, which had now burned to about half its length. the ork took it in one claw rather cautiously and then tipped its body forward and slipped over the edge. they heard a queer buzzing sound, as the tail revolved, and a brisk flapping of the peculiar wings, but they were more interested just then in following with their eyes the tiny speck of light which marked the location of the candle. this light first made a great circle, then dropped slowly downward and suddenly was extinguished, leaving everything before them black as ink. "hi, there! how did that happen?" cried the ork. "it blew out, i guess," shouted cap'n bill. "fetch it here." "i can't see where you are," said the ork. so cap'n bill got out another candle and lighted it, and its flame enabled the ork to fly back to them. it alighted on the edge and held out the bit of candle. "what made it stop burning?" asked the creature. "the wind," said trot. "you must be more careful, this time." "what's the place like?" inquired cap'n bill. "i don't know, yet; but there must be a bottom to it, so i'll try to find it." with this the ork started out again and this time sank downward more slowly. down, down, down it went, till the candle was a mere spark, and then it headed away to the left and trot and cap'n bill lost all sight of it. [illustration] in a few minutes, however, they saw the spark of light again, and as the sailor still held the second lighted candle the ork made straight toward them. it was only a few yards distant when suddenly it dropped the candle with a cry of pain and next moment alighted, fluttering wildly, upon the rocky ledge. "what's the matter?" asked trot. "it bit me!" wailed the ork. "i don't like your candles. the thing began to disappear slowly as soon as i took it in my claw, and it grew smaller and smaller until just now it turned and bit me--a most unfriendly thing to do. oh--oh! ouch, what a bite!" "that's the nature of candles, i'm sorry to say," explained cap'n bill, with a grin. "you have to handle 'em mighty keerful. but tell us, what did you find down there?" "i found a way to continue our journey," said the ork, nursing tenderly the claw which had been burned. "just below us is a great lake of black water, which looked so cold and wicked that it made me shudder; but away at the left there's a big tunnel, which we can easily walk through. i don't know where it leads to, of course, but we must follow it and find out." "why, we can't get to it," protested the little girl. "we can't fly, as you do, you must remember." "no, that's true," replied the ork musingly. "your bodies are built very poorly, it seems to me, since all you can do is crawl upon the earth's surface. but you may ride upon my back, and in that way t can promise you a safe journey to the tunnel." "are you strong enough to carry us?" asked cap'n bill, doubtfully. "yes, indeed; i'm strong enough to carry a dozen of you, if you could find a place to sit," was the reply; "but there's only room between my wings for one at a time, so i'll have to make two trips." "all right; i'll go first," decided cap'n bill. he lit another candle for trot to hold while they were gone and to light the ork on his return to her, and then the old sailor got upon the ork's back, where he sat with his wooden leg sticking straight out sidewise. "if you start to fall, clasp your arms around my neck," advised the creature. "if i start to fall, it's good night an' pleasant dreams," said cap'n bill. "all ready?" asked the ork. "start the buzz-tail," said cap'n bill, with a tremble in his voice. but the ork flew away so gently that the old man never even tottered in his seat. trot watched the light of cap'n bill's candle till it disappeared in the far distance. she didn't like to be left alone on this dangerous ledge, with a lake of black water hundreds of feet below her; but she was a brave little girl and waited patiently for the return of the ork. it came even sooner than she had expected and the creature said to her: "your friend is safe in the tunnel. now, then, get aboard and i'll carry you to him in a jiffy." i'm sure not many little girls would have cared to take that awful ride through the huge black cavern on the back of a skinny ork. trot didn't care for it, herself, but it just had to be done and so she did it as courageously as possible. her heart beat fast and she was so nervous she could scarcely hold the candle in her fingers as the ork sped swiftly through the darkness. it seemed like a long ride to her, yet in reality the ork covered the distance in a wonderfully brief period of time and soon trot stood safely beside cap'n bill on the level floor of a big arched tunnel. the sailor-man was very glad to greet his little comrade again and both were grateful to the ork for his assistance. "i dunno where this tunnel leads to," remarked cap'n bill, "but it surely looks more promisin' than that other hole we crept through." "when the ork is rested," said trot, "we'll travel on and see what happens." "rested!" cried the ork, as scornfully as his shrill voice would allow. "that bit of flying didn't tire me at all. i'm used to flying days at a time, without ever once stopping." "then let's move on," proposed cap'n bill. he still held in his hand one lighted candle, so trot blew out the other flame and placed her candle in the sailor's big pocket. she knew it was not wise to burn two candles at once. the tunnel was straight and smooth and very easy to walk through, so they made good progress. trot thought that the tunnel began about two miles from the cavern where they had been cast by the whirlpool, but now it was impossible to guess the miles traveled, for they walked steadily for hours and hours without any change in their surroundings. finally cap'n bill stopped to rest. "there's somethin' queer about this 'ere tunnel, i'm certain," he declared, wagging his head dolefully. "here's three candles gone a'ready, an' only three more left us, yet the tunnel's the same as it was when we started. an' how long it's goin' to keep up, no one knows." "couldn't we walk without a light?" asked trot. "the way seems safe enough." "it does right now," was the reply, "but we can't tell when we are likely to come to another gulf, or somethin' jes' as dangerous. in that case we'd be killed afore we knew it." "suppose i go ahead?" suggested the ork. "i don't fear a fall, you know, and if anything happens i'll call out and warn you." "that's a good idea," declared trot, and cap'n bill thought so, too. so the ork started off ahead, quite in the dark, and hand in hand the two followed him. when they had walked in this way for a good long time the ork halted and demanded food. cap'n bill had not mentioned food because there was so little left--only three biscuits and a lump of cheese about as big as his two fingers--but he gave the ork half of a biscuit, sighing as he did so. the creature didn't care for the cheese, so the sailor divided it between himself and trot. they lighted a candle and sat down in the tunnel while they ate. "my feet hurt me," grumbled the ork. "i'm not used to walking and this rocky passage is so uneven and lumpy that it hurts me to walk upon it." "can't you fly along?" asked trot. "no; the roof is too low," said the ork. after the meal they resumed their journey, which trot began to fear would never end. when cap'n bill noticed how tired the little girl was, he paused and lighted a match and looked at his big silver watch. "why, it's night!" he exclaimed. "we've tramped all day, an' still we're in this awful passage, which mebbe goes straight through the middle of the world, an' mebbe is a circle--in which case we can keep walkin' till doomsday. not knowin' what's before us so well as we know what's behind us, i propose we make a stop, now, an' try to sleep till mornin'." "that will suit me," asserted the ork, with a groan. "my feet are hurting me dreadfully and for the last few miles i've been limping with pain." "my foot hurts, too," said the sailor, looking for a smooth place on the rocky floor to sit down. "_your_ foot!" cried the ork. "why, you've only one to hurt you, while i have four. so i suffer four times as much as you possibly can. here; hold the candle while i look at the bottoms of my claws. i declare," he said, examining them by the flickering light, "there are bunches of pain all over them!" "p'r'aps," said trot, who was very glad to sit down beside her companions, "you've got corns." "corns? nonsense! orks never have corns," protested the creature, rubbing its sore feet tenderly. "then mebbe they're--they're--what do you call 'em, cap'n bill? something 'bout the pilgrim's progress, you know." "bunions," said cap'n bill. "oh, yes; mebbe you've got bunions." "it is possible," moaned the ork. "but whatever they are, another day of such walking on them would drive me crazy." "i'm sure they'll feel better by mornin'," said cap'n bill, encouragingly. "go to sleep an' try to forget your sore feet." the ork cast a reproachful look at the sailor-man, who didn't see it. then the creature asked plaintively: "do we eat now, or do we starve?" "there's only half a biscuit left for you," answered cap'n bill. "no one knows how long we'll have to stay in this dark tunnel, where there's nothing whatever to eat; so i advise you to save that morsel o' food till later." "give it me now!" demanded the ork. "if i'm going to starve, i'll do it all at once--not by degrees." cap'n bill produced the biscuit and the creature ate it in a trice. trot was rather hungry and whispered to cap'n bill that she'd take part of her share; but the old man secretly broke his own half-biscuit in two, saving trot's share for a time of greater need. he was beginning to be worried over the little girl's plight and long after she was asleep and the ork was snoring in a rather disagreeable manner, cap'n bill sat with his back to a rock and smoked his pipe and tried to think of some way to escape from this seemingly endless tunnel. but after a time he also slept, for hobbling on a wooden leg all day was tiresome, and there in the dark slumbered the three adventurers for many hours, until the ork roused itself and kicked the old sailor with one foot. "it must be another day," said he. [illustration] [illustration] chapter 4 daylight at last cap'n bill rubbed his eyes, lit a match and consulted his watch. "nine o'clock. yes, i guess it's another day, sure enough. shall we go on?' he asked. "of course," replied the ork. "unless this tunnel is different from everything else in the world, and has no end, we'll find a way out of it sooner or later." the sailor gently wakened trot. she felt much rested by her long sleep and sprang to her feet eagerly. "let's start, cap'n," was all she said. they resumed the journey and had only taken a few steps when the ork cried "wow!" and made a great fluttering of its wings and whirling of its tail. the others, who were following a short distance behind, stopped abruptly. "what's the matter?" asked cap'n bill. "give us a light," was the reply. "i think we've come to the end of the tunnel." then, while cap'n bill lighted a candle, the creature added: "if that is true, we needn't have wakened so soon, for we were almost at the end of this place when we went to sleep." the sailor-man and trot came forward with a light. a wall of rock really faced the tunnel, but now they saw that the opening made a sharp turn to the left. so they followed on, by a narrower passage, and then made another sharp turn--this time to the right. "blow out the light, cap'n," said the ork, in a pleased voice. "we've struck daylight." daylight at last! a shaft of mellow light fell almost at their feet as trot and the sailor turned the corner of the passage, but it came from above, and raising their eyes they found they were at the bottom of a deep, rocky well, with the top far, far above their heads. and here the passage ended. [illustration] for a while they gazed in silence, at least two of them being filled with dismay at the sight. but the ork merely whistled softly and said cheerfully: "that was the toughest journey i ever had the misfortune to undertake, and i'm glad it's over. yet, unless i can manage to fly to the top of this pit, we are entombed here forever." "do you think there is room enough for you to fly in?" asked the little girl anxiously; and cap'n bill added: "it's a straight-up shaft, so i don't see how you'll ever manage it." "were i an ordinary bird--one of those horrid feathered things--i wouldn't even make the attempt to fly out," said the ork. "but my mechanical propeller tail can accomplish wonders, and whenever you're ready i'll show you a trick that is worth while." "oh!" exclaimed trot; "do you intend to take us up, too?" "why not?" "i thought," said cap'n bill, "as you'd go first, an' then send somebody to help us by lettin' down a rope." "ropes are dangerous," replied the ork, "and i might not be able to find one to reach all this distance. besides, it stands to reason that if i can get out myself i can also carry you two with me." "well, i'm not afraid," said trot, who longed to be on the earth's surface again. "s'pose we fall?'' suggested cap'n bill, doubtfully. "why, in that case we would all fall together," returned the ork. "get aboard, little girl; sit across my shoulders and put both your arms around my neck." trot obeyed and when she was seated on the ork, cap'n bill inquired: "how 'bout me, mr. ork?" "why, i think you'd best grab hold of my rear legs and let me carry you up in that manner," was the reply. cap'n bill looked way up at the top of the well, and then he looked at the ork's slender, skinny legs and heaved a deep sigh. "it's goin' to be some dangle, i guess; but if you don't waste too much time on the way up, i may be able to hang on," said he. "all ready, then!" cried the ork, and at once his whirling tail began to revolve. trot felt herself rising into the air; when the creature's legs left the ground cap'n bill grasped two of them firmly and held on for dear life. the ork's body was tipped straight upward, and trot had to embrace the neck very tightly to keep from sliding off. even in this position the ork had trouble in escaping the rough sides of the well. several times it exclaimed "wow!" as it bumped its back, or a wing hit against some jagged projection; but the tail kept whirling with remarkable swiftness and the daylight grew brighter and brighter. it was, indeed, a long journey from the bottom to the top, yet almost before trot realized they had come so far, they popped out of the hole into the clear air and sunshine and a moment later the ork alighted gently upon the ground. [illustration] the release was so sudden that even with the creature's care for its passengers cap'n bill struck the earth with a shock that sent him rolling heel over head; but by the time trot had slid down from her seat the old sailor-man was sitting up and looking around him with much satisfaction. "it's sort o' pretty here," said he. "earth is a beautiful place!" cried trot. "i wonder where on earth we are?' pondered the ork, turning first one bright eye and then the other to this side and that. trees there were, in plenty, and shrubs and flowers and green turf. but there were no houses; there were no paths; there was no sign of civilization whatever. "just before i settled down on the ground i thought i caught a view of the ocean," said the ork. "let's see if i was right." then he flew to a little hill, near by, and trot and cap'n bill followed him more slowly. when they stood on the top of the hill they could see the blue waves of the ocean in front of them, to the right of them, and at the left of them. behind the hill was a forest that shut out the view. "i hope it ain't an island, trot," said cap'n bill gravely. "if it is, i s'pose we're prisoners," she replied. "ezzackly so, trot." "but, even so, it's better than those terr'ble underground tunnels and caverns," declared the girl. "you are right, little one," agreed the ork. "anything above ground is better than the best that lies under ground. so let's not quarrel with our fate but be thankful we've escaped." "we are, indeed!" she replied. "but i wonder if we can find something to eat in this place?" "let's explore an' find out," proposed cap'n bill. "those trees over at the left look like cherry-trees." on the way to them the explorers had to walk through a tangle of vines and cap'n bill, who went first, stumbled and pitched forward on his face. "why, it's a melon!" cried trot delightedly, as she saw what had caused the sailor to fall. [illustration] cap'n bill rose to his foot, for he was not at all hurt, and examined the melon. then he took his big jackknife from his pocket and cut the melon open. it was quite ripe and looked delicious; but the old man tasted it before he permitted trot to eat any. deciding it was good he gave her a big slice and then offered the ork some. the creature looked at the fruit somewhat disdainfully, at first, but once he had tasted its flavor he ate of it as heartily as did the others. among the vines they discovered many other melons, and trot said gratefully: "well, there's no danger of our starving, even if this _is_ an island." "melons," remarked cap'n bill, "are both food an' water. we couldn't have struck anything better." farther on they came to the cherry-trees, where they obtained some of the fruit, and at the edge of the little forest were wild plums. the forest itself consisted entirely of nut trees--walnuts, filberts, almonds and chestnuts--so there would be plenty of wholesome food for them while they remained there. cap'n bill and trot decided to walk through the forest, to discover what was on the other side of it, but the ork's feet were still so sore and "lumpy" from walking on the rocks that the creature said he preferred to fly over the tree-tops and meet them on the other side. the forest was not large, so by walking briskly for fifteen minutes they reached its farthest edge and saw before them the shore of the ocean. "it's an island, all right," said trot, with a sigh. "yes, and a pretty island, too," said cap'n bill, trying to conceal his disappointment on trot's account. "i guess, partner, if the wuss comes to the wuss, i could build a raft--or even a boat--from those trees, so's we could sail away in it." the little girl brightened at this suggestion. "i don't see the ork anywhere," she remarked, looking around. then her eyes lighted upon something and she exclaimed: "oh, cap'n bill! isn't that a house, over there to the left?" cap'n bill, looking closely, saw a shed-like structure built at one edge of the forest. "seems like it, trot. not that i'd call it much of a house, but it's a buildin', all right. let's go over an' see if it's occypied." [illustration] [illustration] chapter 5 the little old man of the island a few steps brought them to the shed, which was merely a roof of boughs built over a square space, with some branches of trees fastened to the sides to keep off the wind. the front was quite open and faced the sea, and as our friends came nearer they observed a little man, with a long pointed beard, sitting motionless on a stool and staring thoughtfully out over the water. "get out of the way, please," he called in a fretful voice. "can't you see you are obstructing my view?" "good morning," said cap'n bill, politely. "it isn't a good morning!" snapped the little man. "i've seen plenty of mornings better than this. do you call it a good morning when i'm pestered with such a crowd as you?" trot was astonished to hear such words from a stranger whom they had greeted quite properly, and cap'n bill grew red at the little man's rudeness. but the sailor said, in a quiet tone of voice: "are you the only one as lives on this 'ere island?" "your grammar's bad," was the reply. "but this is my own exclusive island, and i'll thank you to get off it as soon as possible." "we'd like to do that," said trot, and then she and cap'n bill turned away and walked down to the shore, to see if any other land was in sight. the little man rose and followed them, although both were now too provoked to pay any attention to him. "nothin' in sight, partner," reported cap'n bill, shading his eyes with his hand; "so we'll have to stay here for a time, anyhow. it isn't a bad place, trot, by any means." "that's all you know about it!" broke in the little man. "the trees are altogether too green and the rocks are harder than they ought to be. i find the sand very grainy and the water dreadfully wet. every breeze makes a draught and the sun shines in the daytime, when there's no need of it, and disappears just as soon as it begins to get dark. if you remain here you'll find the island very unsatisfactory." trot turned to look at him, and her sweet face was grave and curious. "i wonder who you are," she said. "my name is pessim," said he, with an air of pride. "i'm called the observer." "oh. what do you observe?" asked the little girl. "everything i see," was the reply, in a more surly tone. then pessim drew back with a startled exclamation and looked at some footprints in the sand. "why, good gracious me!' he cried in distress. "what's the matter now?' asked cap'n bill. "someone has pushed the earth in! don't you see it?" "it isn't pushed in far enough to hurt anything," said trot, examining the footprints. "everything hurts that isn't right," insisted the man. "if the earth were pushed in a mile, it would be a great calamity, wouldn't it?" "i s'pose so," admitted the little girl. "well, here it is pushed in a full inch! that's a twelfth of a foot, or a little more than a millionth part of a mile. therefore it is one-millionth part of a calamity--oh, dear! how dreadful!" said pessim in a wailing voice. "try to forget it, sir," advised cap'n bill, soothingly. "it's beginning to rain. let's get under your shed and keep dry." "raining! is it really raining?' asked pessim, beginning to weep. "it is," answered cap'n bill, as the drops began to descend, "and i don't see any way to stop it--although i'm some observer myself." "no; we can't stop it, i fear," said the man. "are you very busy just now?" "i won't be after i get to the shed," replied the sailor-man. "then do me a favor, please," begged pessim, walking briskly along behind them, for they were hastening to the shed. "depends on what it is," said cap'n bill. "i wish you would take my umbrella down to the shore and hold it over the poor fishes till it stops raining. i'm afraid they'll get wet," said pessim. trot laughed, but cap'n bill thought the little man was poking fun at him and so he scowled upon pessim in a way that showed he was angry. they reached the shed before getting very wet, although the rain was now coming down in big drops. the roof of the shed protected them and while they stood watching the rainstorm something buzzed in and circled around pessim's head. at once the observer began beating it away with his hands, crying out: "a bumblebee! a bumblebee! the queerest bumblebee i ever saw!" cap'n bill and trot both looked at it and the little girl said in surprise: "dear me! it's a wee little ork!" "that's what it is, sure enough," exclaimed cap'n bill. really, it wasn't much bigger than a big bumblebee, and when it came toward trot she allowed it to alight on her shoulder. "it's me, all right," said a very small voice in her ear; "but i'm in an awful pickle, just the same!" "what, are you _our_ ork, then?" demanded the girl, much amazed. "no, i'm my own ork. but i'm the only ork you know," replied the tiny creature. "what's happened to you?" asked the sailor, putting his head close to trot's shoulder in order to hear the reply better. pessim also put his head close, and the ork said: [illustration] "you will remember that when i left you i started to fly over the trees, and just as i got to this side of the forest i saw a bush that was loaded down with the most luscious fruit you can imagine. the fruit was about the size of a gooseberry and of a lovely lavender color. so i swooped down and picked off one in my bill and ate it. at once i began to grow small. i could feel myself shrinking, shrinking away, and it frightened me terribly, so that i alighted on the ground to think over what was happening. in a few seconds i had shrunk to the size you now see me; but there i remained, getting no smaller, indeed, but no larger. it is certainly a dreadful affliction! after i had recovered somewhat from the shock i began to search for you. it is not so easy to find one's way when a creature is so small, but fortunately i spied you here in this shed and came to you at once." cap'n bill and trot were much astonished at this story and felt grieved for the poor ork, but the little man pessim seemed to think it a good joke. he began laughing when he heard the story and laughed until he choked, after which he lay down on the ground and rolled and laughed again, while the tears of merriment coursed down his wrinkled cheeks. "oh, dear! oh, dear!" he finally gasped, sitting up and wiping his eyes. "this is too rich! it's almost too joyful to be true." "i don't see anything funny about it," remarked trot indignantly. "you would if you'd had my experience," said pessim, getting upon his feet and gradually resuming his solemn and dissatisfied expression of countenance. "the same thing happened to me." "oh, did it? and how did you happen to come to this island?" asked the girl. "i didn't come; the neighbors brought me," replied the little man, with a frown at the recollection. "they said i was quarrelsome and fault-finding and blamed me because i told them all the things that went wrong, or never were right, and because i told them how things ought to be. so they brought me here and left me all alone, saying that if i quarreled with myself, no one else would be made unhappy. absurd, wasn't it?" "seems to me," said cap'n bill, "those neighbors did the proper thing." "well," resumed pessim, "when i found myself king of this island i was obliged to live upon fruits, and i found many fruits growing here that i had never seen before. i tasted several and found them good and wholesome. but one day i ate a lavender berry--as the ork did--and immediately i grew so small that i was scarcely two inches high. it was a very unpleasant condition and like the ork i became frightened. i could not walk very well nor very far, for every lump of earth in my way seemed a mountain, every blade of grass a tree and every grain of sand a rocky boulder. for several days i stumbled around in an agony of fear. once a tree toad nearly gobbled me up, and if i ran out from the shelter of the bushes the gulls and cormorants swooped down upon me. finally i decided to eat another berry and become nothing at all, since life, to one as small as i was, had become a dreary nightmare. "at last i found a small tree that i thought bore the same fruit as that i had eaten. the berry was dark purple instead of light lavender, but otherwise it was quite similar. being unable to climb the tree, i was obliged to wait underneath it until a sharp breeze arose and shook the limbs so that a berry fell. instantly i seized it and taking a last view of the world--as i then thought--i ate the berry in a twinkling. then, to my surprise, i began to grow big again, until i became of my former stature, and so i have since remained. needless to say, i have never eaten again of the lavender fruit, nor do any of the beasts or birds that live upon this island eat it." they had all three listened eagerly to this amazing tale, and when it was finished the ork exclaimed: "do you think, then, that the deep purple berry is the antidote for the lavender one?" "i'm sure of it," answered pessim. "then lead me to the tree at once!" begged the ork, "for this tiny form i now have terrifies me greatly." pessim examined the ork closely. [illustration] "you are ugly enough as you are," said he. "were you any larger you might be dangerous." "oh, no," trot assured him; "the ork has been our good friend. please take us to the tree." then pessim consented, although rather reluctantly. he led them to the right, which was the east side of the island, and in a few minutes brought them near to the edge of the grove which faced the shore of the ocean. here stood a small tree bearing berries of a deep purple color. the fruit looked very enticing and cap'n bill reached up and selected one that seemed especially plump and ripe. the ork had remained perched upon trot's shoulder but now it flew down to the ground. it was so difficult for cap'n bill to kneel down, with his wooden leg, that the little girl took the berry from him and held it close to the ork's head. "it's too big to go into my mouth," said the little creature, looking at the fruit sidewise. "you'll have to make sev'ral mouthfuls of it, i guess," said trot; and that is what the ork did. he pecked at the soft, ripe fruit with his bill and ate it up very quickly, because it was good. even before he had finished the berry they could see the ork begin to grow. in a few minutes he had regained his natural size and was strutting before them, quite delighted with his transformation. "well, well! what do you think of me now?" he asked proudly. "you are very skinny and remarkably ugly," declared pessim. "you are a poor judge of orks," was the reply. "anyone can see that i'm much handsomer than those dreadful things called birds, which are all fluff and feathers." "their feathers make soft beds," asserted pessim. "and my skin would make excellent drumheads," retorted the ork. "nevertheless, a plucked bird or a skinned ork would be of no value to himself, so we needn't brag of our usefulness after we are dead. but for the sake of argument, friend pessim, i'd like to know what good _you_ would be, were you not alive?" "never mind that," said cap'n bill. "he isn't much good as he is." "i am king of this island, allow me to say, and you're intruding on my property," declared the little man, scowling upon them. "if you don't like me--and i'm sure you don't, for no one else does--why don't you go away and leave me to myself?" "well, the ork can fly, but we can't," explained trot, in answer. "we don't want to stay here a bit, but i don't see how we can get away." "you can go back into the hole you came from." cap'n bill shook his head; trot shuddered at the thought; the ork laughed aloud. "you may be king here," the creature said to pessim, "but we intend to run this island to suit ourselves, for we are three and you are one, and the balance of power lies with us." the little man made no reply to this, although as they walked back to the shed his face wore its fiercest scowl. cap'n bill gathered a lot of leaves and, assisted by trot, prepared two nice beds in opposite corners of the shed. pessim slept in a hammock which he swung between two trees. they required no dishes, as all their food consisted of fruits and nuts picked from the trees; they made no fire, for the weather was warm and there was nothing to cook; the shed had no furniture other than the rude stool which the little man was accustomed to sit upon. he called it his "throne" and they let him keep it. so they lived upon the island for three days, and rested and ate to their hearts' content. still, they were not at all happy in this life because of pessim. he continually found fault with them, and all that they did, and all their surroundings. he could see nothing good or admirable in all the world and trot soon came to understand why the little man's former neighbors had brought him to this island and left him there, all alone, so he could not annoy anyone. it was their misfortune that they had been led to this place by their adventures, for often they would have preferred the company of a wild beast to that of pessim. on the fourth day a happy thought came to the ork. they had all been racking their brains for a possible way to leave the island, and discussing this or that method, without finding a plan that was practical. cap'n bill had said he could make a raft of the trees, big enough to float them all, but he had no tools except those two pocketknives and it was not possible to chop down trees with such small blades. "and s'pose we got afloat on the ocean," said trot, "where would we drift to, and how long would it take us to get there?" cap'n bill was forced to admit he didn't know. the ork could fly away from the island any time it wished to, but the queer creature was loyal to his new friends and refused to leave them in such a lonely, forsaken place. it was when trot urged him to go, on this fourth morning, that the ork had his happy thought. "i will go," said he, "if you two will agree to ride upon my back." "we are too heavy; you might drop us," objected cap'n bill. "yes, you are rather heavy for a long journey," acknowledged the ork, "but you might eat of those lavender berries and become so small that i could carry you with ease." this quaint suggestion startled trot and she looked gravely at the speaker while she considered it, but cap'n bill gave a scornful snort and asked: "what would become of us afterward! we wouldn't be much good if we were some two or three inches high. no, mr. ork, i'd rather stay here, as i am, than be a hop-o'-my-thumb somewhere else." "why couldn't you take some of the dark purple berries along with you, to eat after we had reached our destination?" inquired the ork. "then you could grow big again whenever you pleased." trot clapped her hands with delight. "that's it!" she exclaimed. "let's do it, cap'n bill." the old sailor did not like the idea at first, but he thought it over carefully and the more he thought the better it seemed. "how could you manage to carry us, if we were so small?" he asked. "i could put you in a paper bag, and tie the bag around my neck." "but we haven't a paper bag," objected trot. the ork looked at her. "there's your sunbonnet," it said presently, "which is hollow in the middle and has two strings that you could tie around my neck." [illustration] trot took off her sunbonnet and regarded it critically. yes, it might easily hold both her and cap'n bill, after they had eaten the lavender berries and been reduced in size. she tied the strings around the ork's neck and the sunbonnet made a bag in which two tiny people might ride without danger of falling out. so she said: "i b'lieve we'll do it that way, cap'n." cap'n bill groaned but could make no logical objection except that the plan seemed to him quite dangerous--and dangerous in more ways than one. "i think so, myself," said trot soberly. "but nobody can stay alive without getting into danger sometimes, and danger doesn't mean getting hurt, cap'n; it only means we _might_ get hurt. so i guess we'll have to take the risk." "let's go and find the berries," said the ork. they said nothing to pessim, who was sitting on his stool and scowling dismally as he stared at the ocean, but started at once to seek the trees that bore the magic fruits. the ork remembered very well where the lavender berries grew and led his companions quickly to the spot. cap'n bill gathered two berries and placed them carefully in his pocket. then they went around to the east side of the island and found the tree that bore the dark purple berries. "i guess i'll take four of these," said the sailor-man, "so in case one doesn't make us grow big we can eat another." "better take six," advised the ork. "it's well to be on the safe side, and i'm sure these trees grow nowhere else in all the world." so cap'n bill gathered six of the purple berries and with their precious fruit they returned to the shed to bid good-bye to pessim. perhaps they would not have granted the surly little man this courtesy had they not wished to use him to tie the sunbonnet around the ork's neck. when pessim learned they were about to leave him he at first looked greatly pleased, but he suddenly recollected that nothing ought to please him and so began to grumble about being left alone. "we knew it wouldn't suit you," remarked cap'n bill. "it didn't suit you to have us here, and it won't suit you to have us go away." "that is quite true," admitted pessim. "i haven't been suited since i can remember; so it doesn't matter to me in the least whether you go or stay." he was interested in their experiment, however, and willingly agreed to assist, although he prophesied they would fall out of the sunbonnet on their way and be either drowned in the ocean or crushed upon some rocky shore. this uncheerful prospect did not daunt trot, but it made cap'n bill quite nervous. "i will eat my berry first," said trot, as she placed her sunbonnet on the ground, in such manner that they could get into it. then she ate the lavender berry and in a few seconds became so small that cap'n bill picked her up gently with his thumb and one finger and placed her in the middle of the sunbonnet. then he placed beside her the six purple berries--each one being about as big as the tiny trot's head--and all preparations being now made the old sailor ate his lavender berry and became very small--wooden leg and all! cap'n bill stumbled sadly in trying to climb over the edge of the sunbonnet and pitched in beside trot headfirst, which caused the unhappy pessim to laugh with glee. then the king of the island picked up the sunbonnet--so rudely that he shook its occupants like peas in a pod--and tied it, by means of its strings, securely around the ork's neck. "i hope, trot, you sewed those strings on tight," said cap'n bill anxiously. "why, we are not very heavy, you know," she replied, "so i think the stitches will hold. but be careful and not crush the berries, cap'n." "one is jammed already," he said, looking at them. "all ready?" asked the ork. "yes!" they cried together, and pessim came close to the sunbonnet and called out to them: "you'll be smashed or drowned, i'm sure you will! but farewell, and good riddance to you." the ork was provoked by this unkind speech, so he turned his tail toward the little man and made it revolve so fast that the rush of air tumbled pessim over backward and he rolled several times upon the ground before he could stop himself and sit up. by that time the ork was high in the air and speeding swiftly over the ocean. [illustration] [illustration] chapter 6 the flight of the midgets cap'n bill and trot rode very comfortably in the sunbonnet. the motion was quite steady, for they weighed so little that the ork flew without effort. yet they were both somewhat nervous about their future fate and could not help wishing they were safe on land and their natural size again. "you're terr'ble small, trot," remarked cap'n bill, looking at his companion. "same to you, cap'n," she said with a laugh; "but as long as we have the purple berries we needn't worry about our size." "in a circus," mused the old man, "we'd be curiosities. but in a sunbonnet--high up in the air--sailin' over a big, unknown ocean--they ain't no word in any booktionary to describe us." "why, we're midgets, that's all," said the little girl. the ork flew silently for a long time. the slight swaying of the sunbonnet made cap'n bill drowsy, and he began to doze. trot, however, was wide awake, and after enduring the monotonous journey as long as she was able she called out: "don't you see land anywhere, mr. ork?" "not yet," he answered. "this is a big ocean and i've no idea in which direction the nearest land to that island lies; but if i keep flying in a straight line i'm sure to reach some place some time." that seemed reasonable, so the little people in the sunbonnet remained as patient as possible; that is, cap'n bill dozed and trot tried to remember her geography lessons so she could figure out what land they were likely to arrive at. for hours and hours the ork flew steadily, keeping to the straight line and searching with his eyes the horizon of the ocean for land. cap'n bill was fast asleep and snoring and trot had laid her head on his shoulder to rest it when suddenly the ork exclaimed: "there! i've caught a glimpse of land, at last." at this announcement they roused themselves. cap'n bill stood up and tried to peek over the edge of the sunbonnet. "what does it look like?" he inquired. "looks like another island," said the ork; "but i can judge it better in a minute or two." "i don't care much for islands, since we visited that other one," declared trot. soon the ork made another announcement. "it is surely an island, and a little one, too," said he. "but i won't stop, because i see a much bigger land straight ahead of it." "that's right," approved cap'n bill. "the bigger the land, the better it will suit us." "it's almost a continent," continued the ork after a brief silence, during which he did not decrease the speed of his flight. "i wonder if it can be orkland, the place i have been seeking so long?" "i hope not," whispered trot to cap'n bill--so softly that the ork could not hear her--"for i shouldn't like to be in a country where only orks live. this one ork isn't a bad companion, but a lot of him wouldn't be much fun." after a few more minutes of flying the ork called out in a sad voice: "no! this is not my country. it's a place i have never seen before, although i have wandered far and wide. it seems to be all mountains and deserts and green valleys and queer cities and lakes and rivers--mixed up in a very puzzling way." "most countries are like that," commented cap'n bill. "are you going to land?" "pretty soon," was the reply. "there is a mountain peak just ahead of me. what do you say to our landing on that?" "all right," agreed the sailor-man, for both he and trot were getting tired of riding in the sunbonnet and longed to set foot on solid ground again. so in a few minutes the ork slowed down his speed and then came to a stop so easily that they were scarcely jarred at all. then the creature squatted down until the sunbonnet rested on the ground, and began trying to unfasten with its claws the knotted strings. this proved a very clumsy task, because the strings were tied at the back of the ork's neck, just where his claws would not easily reach. after much fumbling he said: "i'm afraid i can't let you out, and there is no one near to help me." this was at first discouraging, but after a little thought cap'n bill said: "if you don't mind, trot, i can cut a slit in your sunbonnet with my knife." "do," she replied. "the slit won't matter, 'cause i can sew it up again afterward, when i am big." so cap'n bill got out his knife, which was just as small, in proportion, as he was, and after considerable trouble managed to cut a long slit in the sunbonnet. first he squeezed through the opening himself and then helped trot to get out. [illustration] when they stood on firm ground again their first act was to begin eating the dark purple berries which they had brought with them. two of these trot had guarded carefully during the long journey, by holding them in her lap, for their safety meant much to the tiny people. "i'm not very hungry," said the little girl as she handed a berry to cap'n bill, "but hunger doesn't count, in this case. it's like taking medicine to make you well, so we must manage to eat 'em, somehow or other." but the berries proved quite pleasant to taste and as cap'n bill and trot nibbled at their edges their forms began to grow in size--slowly but steadily. the bigger they grew the easier it was for them to eat the berries, which of course became smaller to them, and by the time the fruit was eaten our friends had regained their natural size. the little girl was greatly relieved when she found herself as large as she had ever been, and cap'n bill shared her satisfaction; for, although they had seen the effect of the berries on the ork, they had not been sure the magic fruit would have the same effect on human beings, or that the magic would work in any other country than that in which the berries grew. "what shall we do with the other four berries?" asked trot, as she picked up her sunbonnet, marveling that she had ever been small enough to ride in it. "they're no good to us now, are they, cap'n?" "i'm not sure as to that," he replied. "if they were eaten by one who had never eaten the lavender berries, they might have no effect at all; but then, contrarywise, they might. one of 'em has got badly jammed, so i'll throw it away, but the other three i b'lieve i'll carry with me. they're magic things, you know, and may come handy to us some time." he now searched in his big pockets and drew out a small wooden box with a sliding cover. the sailor had kept an assortment of nails, of various sizes, in this box, but those he now dumped loosely into his pocket and in the box placed the three sound purple berries. when this important matter was attended to they found time to look about them and see what sort of place the ork had landed them in. [illustration] [illustration] chapter 7 the bumpy man the mountain on which they had alighted was not a barren waste, but had on its sides patches of green grass, some bushes, a few slender trees and here and there masses of tumbled rocks. the sides of the slope seemed rather steep, but with care one could climb up or down them with ease and safety. the view from where they now stood showed pleasant valleys and fertile hills lying below the heights. trot thought she saw some houses of queer shapes scattered about the lower landscape, and there were moving dots that might be people or animals, yet were too far away for her to see them clearly. not far from the place where they stood was the top of the mountain, which seemed to be flat, so the ork proposed to his companions that he would fly up and see what was there. "that's a good idea," said trot, "'cause it's getting toward evening and we'll have to find a place to sleep." the ork had not been gone more than a few minutes when they saw him appear on the edge of the top which was nearest them. "come on up!" he called. so trot and cap'n bill began to ascend the steep slope and it did not take them long to reach the place where the ork awaited them. their first view of the mountain-top pleased them very much. it was a level space of wider extent than they had guessed and upon it grew grass of a brilliant green color. in the very center stood a house built of stone and very neatly constructed. no one was in sight, but smoke was coming from the chimney, so with one accord all three began walking toward the house. "i wonder," said trot, "in what country we are, and if it's very far from my home in california." "can't say as to that, partner," answered cap'n bill, "but i'm mighty certain we've come a long way since we struck that whirlpool." "yes," she agreed, with a sigh, "it must be miles and miles!" "distance means nothing," said the ork. "i have flown pretty much all over the world, trying to find my home, and it is astonishing how many little countries there are, hidden away in the cracks and corners of this big globe of earth. if one travels, he may find some new country at every turn, and a good many of them have never yet been put upon the maps." "p'raps this is one of them," suggested trot. they reached the house after a brisk walk and cap'n bill knocked upon the door. it was at once opened by a rugged looking man who had "bumps all over him," as trot afterward declared. there were bumps on his head, bumps on his body and bumps on his arms and legs and hands. even his fingers had bumps on the ends of them. for dress he wore an old gray suit of fantastic design, which fitted him very badly because of the bumps it covered but could not conceal. but the bumpy man's eyes were kind and twinkling in expression and as soon as he saw his visitors he bowed low and said in a rather bumpy voice: "happy day! come in and shut the door, for it grows cool when the sun goes down. winter is now upon us." "why, it isn't cold a bit, outside," said trot, "so it can't be winter yet." "you will change your mind about that in a little while," declared the bumpy man. "my bumps always tell me the state of the weather, and they feel just now as if a snowstorm was coming this way. but make yourselves at home, strangers. supper is nearly ready and there is food enough for all." inside the house there was but one large room, simply but comfortably furnished. it had benches, a table and a fireplace, all made of stone. on the hearth a pot was bubbling and steaming, and trot thought it had a rather nice smell. the visitors seated themselves upon the benches--except the ork, which squatted by the fireplace--and the bumpy man began stirring the kettle briskly. "may i ask what country this is, sir?' inquired cap'n bill. "goodness me--fruit-cake and apple-sauce!--don't you know where you are?' asked the bumpy man, as he stopped stirring and looked at the speaker in surprise. "no," admitted cap'n bill. "we've just arrived." "lost your way?" questioned the bumpy man. "not exactly," said cap'n bill. "we didn't have any way to lose." "ah!" said the bumpy man, nodding his bumpy head. "this," he announced, in a solemn, impressive voice, "is the famous land of mo." "oh!" exclaimed the sailor and the girl, both in one breath. but, never having heard of the land of mo, they were no wiser than before. "i thought that would startle you," remarked the bumpy man, well pleased, as he resumed his stirring. the ork watched him a while in silence and then asked: "who may _you_ be?" "me?" answered the bumpy man. "haven't you heard of me? gingerbread and lemon-juice! i'm known, far and wide, as the mountain ear." they all received this information in silence at first, for they were trying to think what he could mean. finally trot mustered up courage to ask: "what is a mountain ear, please?" for answer the man turned around and faced them, waving the spoon with which he had been stirring the kettle, as he recited the following verses in a singsong tone of voice: "here's a mountain, hard of hearing, that's sad-hearted and needs cheering, so my duty is to listen to all sounds that nature makes, so the hill won't get uneasy- get to coughing, or get sneezy- for this monster bump, when frightened, is quite liable to quakes. "_you_ can hear a bell that's ringing; _i_ can feel some people's singing; but a mountain isn't sensible of what goes on, and so when i hear a blizzard blowing or it's raining hard, or snowing, i tell it to the mountain and the mountain seems to know. "thus i benefit all people while i'm living on this steeple, for i keep the mountain steady so my neighbors all may thrive. with my list'ning and my shouting i prevent this mount from spouting, and that makes me so important that i'm glad that i'm alive." when he had finished these lines of verse the bumpy man turned again to resume his stirring. the ork laughed softly and cap'n bill whistled to himself and trot made up her mind that the mountain ear must be a little crazy. but the bumpy man seemed satisfied that he had explained his position fully and presently he placed four stone plates upon the table and then lifted the kettle from the fire and poured some of its contents on each of the plates. cap'n bill and trot at once approached the table, for they were hungry, but when she examined her plate the little girl exclaimed: "why, it's molasses candy!" "to be sure," returned the bumpy man, with a pleasant smile. "eat it quick, while it's hot, for it cools very quickly this winter weather." with this he seized a stone spoon and began putting the hot molasses candy into his mouth, while the others watched him in astonishment. "doesn't it burn you?" asked the girl. "no indeed," said he. "why don't you eat? aren't you hungry?" "yes," she replied, "i am hungry. but we usually eat our candy when it is cold and hard. we always pull molasses candy before we eat it." "ha, ha, ha!" laughed the mountain ear. "what a funny idea! where in the world did you come from?" "california," she said. "california! pooh! there isn't any such place. i've heard of every place in the land of mo, but i never before heard of california." [illustration] "it isn't in the land of mo," she explained. "then it isn't worth talking about," declared the bumpy man, helping himself again from the steaming kettle, for he had been eating all the time he talked. "for my part," sighed cap'n bill, "i'd like a decent square meal, once more, just by way of variety. in the last place there was nothing but fruit to eat, and here it's worse, for there's nothing but candy." "molasses candy isn't so bad," said trot. "mine's nearly cool enough to pull, already. wait a bit, cap'n, and you can eat it." a little later she was able to gather the candy from the stone plate and begin to work it back and forth with her hands. the mountain ear was greatly amazed at this and watched her closely. it was really good candy and pulled beautifully, so that trot was soon ready to cut it into chunks for eating. cap'n bill condescended to eat one or two pieces and the ork ate several, but the bumpy man refused to try it. trot finished the plate of candy herself and then asked for a drink of water. "water?" said the mountain ear wonderingly. "what is that?" "something to drink. don't you have water in mo?" "none that ever i heard of," said he. "but i can give you some fresh lemonade. i caught it in a 'jar the last time it rained, which was only day before yesterday." "oh, does it rain lemonade here?" she inquired. "always; and it is very refreshing and healthful." [illustration ] with this he brought from a cupboard a stone jar and a dipper, and the girl found it very nice lemonade, indeed. cap'n bill liked it, too; but the ork would not touch it. "if there is no water in this country, i cannot stay here for long," the creature declared. "water means life to man and beast and bird." "there must be water in lemonade," said trot. "yes," answered the ork, "i suppose so; but there are other things in it, too, and they spoil the good water." the day's adventures had made our wanderers tired, so the bumpy man brought them some blankets in which they rolled themselves and then lay down before the fire, which their host kept alive with fuel all through the night. trot wakened several times and found the mountain ear always alert and listening intently for the slightest sound. but the little girl could hear no sound at all except the snores of cap'n bill. [illustration] chapter 8 button-bright is lost and found again "wake up--wake up!" called the voice of the bumpy man. "didn't i tell you winter was coming? i could hear it coming with my left ear, and the proof is that it is now snowing hard outside." "is it?" said trot, rubbing her eyes and creeping out of her blanket. "where i live, in california, i have never seen snow, except far away on the tops of high mountains." "well, this is the top of a high mountain," returned the bumpy one, "and for that reason we get our heaviest snowfalls right here." the little girl went to the window and looked out. the air was filled with falling white flakes, so large in size and so queer in form that she was puzzled. "are you certain this is snow?" she asked. "to be sure. i must get my snow-shovel and turn out to shovel a path. would you like to come with me?" "yes," she said, and followed the bumpy man out when he opened the door. then she exclaimed: "why, it isn't cold a bit!" "of course not," replied the man. "it was cold last night, before the snowstorm; but snow, when it falls, is always crisp and warm." trot gathered a handful of it. "why, it's popcorn? 7 she cried. "certainly; all snow is popcorn. what did you expect it to be?" "popcorn is not snow in my country." "well, it is the only snow we have in the land of mo, so you may as well make the best of it," said he, a little impatiently. "i'm not responsible for the absurd things that happen in your country, and when you're in mo you must do as the momen do. eat some of our snow, and you will find it is good. the only fault i find with our snow is that we get too much of it at times." with this the bumpy man set to work shoveling a path and he was so quick and industrious that he piled up the popcorn in great banks on either side of the trail that led to the mountain-top from the plains below. while he worked, trot ate popcorn and found it crisp and slightly warm, as well as nicely salted and buttered. presently cap'n bill came out of the house and joined her. "what's this?" he asked. "mo snow," said she. "but it isn't real snow, although it falls from the sky. it's popcorn." cap'n bill tasted it; then he sat down in the path and began to eat. the ork came out and pecked away with its bill as fast as it could. they all liked popcorn and they all were hungry this morning. meantime the flakes of "mo snow" came down so fast that the number of them almost darkened the air. the bumpy man was now shoveling quite a distance down the mountain-side, while the path behind him rapidly filled up with fresh-fallen popcorn. suddenly trot heard him call out: "goodness gracious--mince pie and pancakes!--here is some one buried in the snow." she ran toward him at once and the others followed, wading through the corn and crunching it underneath their feet. the mo snow was pretty deep where the bumpy man was shoveling and from beneath a great bank of it he had uncovered a pair of feet. "dear me! someone has been lost in the storm," said cap'n bill. "i hope he is still alive. let's pull him out and see." he took hold of one foot and the bumpy man took hold of the other. then they both pulled and out from the heap of popcorn came a little boy. he was dressed in a brown velvet jacket and knickerbockers, with brown stockings, buckled shoes and a blue shirt-waist that had frills down its front. when drawn from the heap the boy was chewing a mouthful of popcorn and both his hands were full of it. so at first he couldn't speak to his rescuers but lay quite still and eyed them calmly until he had swallowed his mouthful. then he said: "get my cap," and stuffed more popcorn into his mouth. while the bumpy man began shoveling into the corn-bank to find the boy's cap, trot was laughing joyfully and cap'n bill had a broad grin on his face. the ork looked from one to another and asked: "who is this stranger?" "why, it's button-bright, of course," answered trot. "if anyone ever finds a lost boy, he can make up his mind it's button-bright. but how he ever came to be lost in this far-away country is more'n i can make out." "where does he belong?" inquired the ork. [illustration] "his home used to be in philadelphia, i think; but i'm quite sure button-bright doesn't belong anywhere." "that's right," said the boy, nodding his head as he swallowed the second mouthful. "everyone belongs somewhere," remarked the ork. "not me," insisted button-bright. "i'm half-way 'round the world from philadelphia, and i've lost my magic umbrella, that used to carry me anywhere. stands to reason that if i can't get back i haven't any home. but i don't care much. this is a pretty good country, trot. i've had lots of fun here." by this time the mountain ear had secured the boy's cap and was listening to the conversation with much interest. "it seems you know this poor, snow-covered castaway," he said. "yes, indeed," answered trot. "we made a journey together to sky island, once, and were good friends." "well, then i'm glad i saved his life," said the bumpy man. "much obliged, mr. knobs," said button-bright, sitting up and staring at him, "but i don't believe you've saved anything except some popcorn that i might have eaten had you not disturbed me. it was nice and warm in that bank of popcorn, and there was plenty to eat. what made you dig me out? and what makes you so bumpy everywhere?" "as for the bumps," replied the man, looking at himself with much pride, "i was born with them and i suspect they were a gift from the fairies. they make me look rugged and big, like the mountain i serve." "all right," said button-bright and began eating popcorn again. it had stopped snowing, now, and great flocks of birds were gathering around the mountain-side, eating the popcorn with much eagerness and scarcely noticing the people at all. there were birds of every size and color, most of them having gorgeous feathers and plumes. "just look at them!" exclaimed the ork scornfully. "aren't they dreadful creatures, all covered with feathers?" "i think they're beautiful," said trot, and this made the ork so indignant that he went back into the house and sulked. button-bright reached out his hand and caught a big bird by the leg. at once it rose into the air and it was so strong that it nearly carried the little boy with it. he let go the leg in a hurry and the bird flew down again and began to eat of the popcorn, not being frightened in the least. this gave cap'n bill an idea. he felt in his pocket and drew out several pieces of stout string. moving very quietly, so as to not alarm the birds, he crept up to several of the biggest ones and tied cords around their legs, thus making them prisoners. the birds were so intent on their eating that they did not notice what had happened to them, and when about twenty had been captured in this manner cap'n bill tied the ends of all the strings together and fastened them to a huge stone, so they could not escape. the bumpy man watched the old sailor's actions with much curiosity. "the birds will be quiet until they've eaten up all the snow," he said, "but then they will want to fly away to their homes. tell me, sir, what will the poor things do when they find they can't fly?" "it may worry 'em a little," replied cap'n bill, "but they're not going to be hurt if they take it easy and behave themselves." our friends had all made a good breakfast of the delicious popcorn and now they walked toward the house again. button-bright walked beside trot and held her hand in his, because they were old friends and he liked the little girl very much. the boy was not so old as trot, and small as she was he was half a head shorter in height. the most remarkable thing about button-bright was that he was always quiet and composed, whatever happened, and nothing was ever able to astonish him. trot liked him because he was not rude and never tried to plague her. cap'n bill liked him because he had found the boy cheerful and brave at all times, and willing to do anything he was asked to do. when they came to the house trot sniffed the air and asked: "don't i smell perfume?'" [illustration] "i think you do," said the bumpy man. "you smell violets, and that proves there is a breeze springing up from the south. all our winds and breezes are perfumed and for that reason we are glad to have them blow in our direction. the south breeze always has a violet odor; the north breeze has the fragrance of wild roses; the east breeze is perfumed with lilies-of-the-valley and the west wind with lilac blossoms. so we need no weather-vane to tell us which way the wind is blowing. we have only to smell the perfume and it informs us at once." inside the house they found the ork, and button-bright regarded the strange, bird-like creature with curious interest. after examining it closely for a time he asked: "which way does your tail whirl?" "either way," said the ork. button-bright put out his hand and tried to spin it. "don't do that!" exclaimed the ork. "why not?' inquired the boy. "because it happens to be my tail, and i reserve the right to whirl it myself," explained the ork. "let's go out and fly somewhere," proposed button-bright. "i want to see how the tail works." "not now," said the ork. "i appreciate your interest in me, which i fully deserve; but i only fly when i am going somewhere, and if i got started i might not stop." "that reminds me," remarked cap'n bill, "to ask you, friend ork, how we are going to get away from here?" "get away!" exclaimed the bumpy man. "why don't you stay here? you won't find any nicer place than mo." "have you been anywhere else, sir?" "no; i can't say that i have," admitted the mountain ear. "then permit me to say you're no judge," declared cap'n bill. "but you haven't answered my question, friend ork. how are we to get away from this mountain?" the ork reflected a while before he answered. "i might carry one of you--the boy or the girl--upon my back," said he, "but three big people are more than i can manage, although i have carried two of you for a short distance. you ought not to have eaten those purple berries so soon." "p'r'aps we did make a mistake," cap'n bill acknowledged. "or we might have brought some of those lavender berries with us, instead of so many purple ones," suggested trot regretfully. cap'n bill made no reply to this statement, which showed he did not fully agree with the little girl; but he fell into deep thought, with wrinkled brows, and finally he said: "if those purple berries would make anything grow bigger, whether it'd eaten the lavender ones or not, i could find a way out of our troubles." they did not understand this speech and looked at the old sailor as if expecting him to explain what he meant. but just then a chorus of shrill cries rose from outside. "here! let me go--let me go!" the voices seemed to say. "why are we insulted in this way? mountain ear, come and help us!" trot ran to the window and looked out. "it's the birds you caught, cap'n," she said. "i didn't know they could talk." "oh, yes; all the birds in mo are educated to talk," said the bumpy man. then he looked at cap'n bill uneasily and added: "won't you let the poor things go?" "i'll see," replied the sailor, and walked out to where the birds were fluttering and complaining because the strings would not allow them to fly away. "listen to me!" he cried, and at once they became still. "we three people who are strangers in your land want to go to some other country, and we want three of you birds to carry us there. we know we are asking a great favor, but it's the only way we can think of--excep' walkin', an' i'm not much good at that because i've a wooden leg. besides, trot an' button-bright are too small to undertake a long and tiresome journey. now, tell me: which three of you birds will consent to carry us?" [illustration] the birds looked at one another as if greatly astonished. then one of them replied: "you must be crazy, old man. not one of us is big enough to fly with even the smallest of your party." "i'll fix the matter of size," promised cap'n bill. "if three of you will agree to carry us, i'll make you big an' strong enough to do it, so it won't worry you a bit." the birds considered this gravely. living in a magic country, they had no doubt but that the strange one-legged man could do what he said. after a little, one of them asked: "if you make us big, would we stay big always?" "i think so," replied cap'n bill. they chattered a while among themselves and then the bird that had first spoken said: "til go, for one." "so will i," said another; and after a pause a third said: "i'll go, too." perhaps more would have volunteered, for it seemed that for some reason they all longed to be bigger than they were; but three were enough for cap'n bill's purpose and so he promptly released all the others, who immediately flew away. the three that remained were cousins, and all were of the same brilliant plumage and in size about as large as eagles. when trot questioned them she found they were quite young, having only abandoned their nests a few weeks before. they were strong young birds, with clear, brave eyes, and the little girl decided they were the most beautiful of all the feathered creatures she had ever seen. [illustration] cap'n bill now took from his pocket the wooden box with the sliding cover and removed the three purple berries, which were still in good condition. "eat these," he said, and gave one to each of the birds. they obeyed, finding the fruit very pleasant to taste. in a few seconds they began to grow in size and grew so fast that trot feared they would never stop. but they finally did stop growing, and then they were much larger than the ork, and nearly the size of full-grown ostriches. cap'n bill was much pleased by this result. "you can carry us now, all right," said he. the birds strutted around with pride, highly pleased with their immense size. "i don't see, though," said trot doubtfully, "how we're going to ride on their backs without falling off." "we're not going to ride on their backs," answered cap'n bill. "i'm going to make swings for us to ride in." he then asked the bumpy man for some rope, but the man had no rope. he had, however, an old suit of gray clothes which he gladly presented to cap'n bill, who cut the cloth into strips and twisted it so that it was almost as strong as rope. with this material he attached to each bird a swing that dangled below its feet, and button-bright made a trial flight in one of them to prove that it was safe and comfortable. when all this had been arranged one of the birds asked: "where do you wish us to take you?" "why, just follow the ork," said cap'n bill. "he will be our leader, and wherever the ork flies you are to fly, and wherever the ork lands you are to land. is that satisfactory?" [illustration] the birds declared it was quite satisfactory, so cap'n bill took counsel with the ork. "on our way here," said that peculiar creature, "i noticed a broad, sandy desert at the left of me, on which was no living thing." "then we'd better keep away from it," replied the sailor. "not so," insisted the ork. "i have found, on my travels, that the most pleasant countries often lie in the midst of deserts; so i think it would be wise for us to fly over this desert and discover what lies beyond it. for in the direction we came from lies the ocean, as we well know, and beyond here is this strange land of mo, which we do not care to explore. on one side, as we can see from this mountain, is a broad expanse of plain, and on the other the desert. for my part, i vote for the desert." "what do you say, trot?" inquired cap'n bill. "it's all the same to me," she replied. no one thought of asking button-bright's opinion, so it was decided to fly over the desert. they bade good-bye to the bumpy man and thanked him for his kindness and hospitality. then they seated themselves in the swings--one for each bird--and told the ork to start away and they would follow. the whirl of the ork's tail astonished the birds at first, but after he had gone a short distance they rose in the air, carrying their passengers easily, and flew with strong, regular strokes of their great wings in the wake of their leader. [illustration] chapter 9 the kingdom of jinxland trot rode with more comfort than she had expected, although the swing swayed so much that she had to hold on tight with both hands. cap'n bill's bird followed the ork, and trot came next, with button-bright trailing behind her. it was quite an imposing procession, but unfortunately there was no one to see it, for the ork had headed straight for the great sandy desert and in a few minutes after starting they were flying high over the broad waste, where no living thing could exist. the little girl thought this would be a bad place for the birds to lose strength, or for the cloth ropes to give way; but although she could not help feeling a trifle nervous and fidgety she had confidence in the huge and brilliantly plumaged bird that bore her, as well as in cap'n bill's knowledge of how to twist and fasten a rope so it would hold. that was a remarkably big desert. there was nothing to relieve the monotony of view and every minute seemed an hour and every hour a day. disagreeable fumes and gases rose from the sands, which would have been deadly to the travelers had they not been so high in the air. as it was, trot was beginning to feel sick, when a breath of fresher air filled her nostrils and on looking ahead she saw a great cloud of pink-tinted mist. even while she wondered what it could be, the ork plunged boldly into the mist and the other birds followed. she could see nothing for a time, nor could the bird which carried her see where the ork had gone, but it kept flying as sturdily as ever and in a few moments the mist was passed and the girl saw a most beautiful landscape spread out below her, extending as far as her eye could reach. she saw bits of forest, verdure clothed hills, fields of waving grain, fountains, rivers and lakes; and throughout the scene were scattered groups of pretty houses and a few grand castles and palaces. over all this delightful landscape--which from trot's high perch seemed like a magnificent painted picture--was a rosy glow such as we sometimes see in the west at sunset. in this case, however, it was not in the west only, but everywhere. no wonder the ork paused to circle slowly over this lovely country. the other birds followed his action, all eyeing the place with equal delight. then, as with one accord, the four formed a group and slowly sailed downward. this brought them to that part of the newly-discovered land which bordered on the desert's edge; but it was just as pretty here as anywhere, so the ork and the birds alighted and the three passengers at once got out of their swings. "oh, cap'n bill, isn't this fine an' dandy?" exclaimed trot rapturously. "how lucky we were to discover this beautiful country!" "the country seems rather high class, i'll admit, trot," replied the old sailor-man, looking around him, "but we don't know, as yet, what its people are like." "no one could live in such a country without being happy and good--i'm sure of that," she said earnestly. "don't you think so, button-bright?" "i'm not thinking, just now," answered the little boy. "it tires me to think, and i never seem to gain anything by it. when we see the people who live here we will know what they are like, and no 'mount of thinking will make them any different." "that's true enough," said the ork. "but now i want to make a proposal. while you are getting acquainted with this new country, which looks as if it contains everything to make one happy, i would like to fly along--all by myself--and see if i can find my home on the other side of the great desert. if i do, i will stay there, of course. but if i fail to find orkland i will return to you in a week, to see if i can do anything more to assist you." they were sorry to lose their queer companion, but could offer no objection to the plan; so the ork bade them good-bye and rising swiftly in the air, he flew over the country and was soon lost to view in the distance. the three birds which had carried our friends now begged permission to return by the way they had come, to their own homes, saying they were anxious to show their families how big they had become. so cap'n bill and trot and button-bright all thanked them gratefully for their assistance and soon the birds began their long flight toward the land of mo. being now left to themselves in this strange land, the three comrades selected a pretty pathway and began walking along it. they believed this path would lead them to a splendid castle which they espied in the distance, the turrets of which towered far above the tops of the trees which surrounded it. it did not seem very far away, so they sauntered on slowly, admiring the beautiful ferns and flowers that lined the pathway and listening to the singing of the birds and the soft chirping of the grasshoppers. [illustration] presently the path wound over a little hill. in a valley that lay beyond the hill was a tiny cottage surrounded by flower beds and fruit trees. on the shady porch of the cottage they saw, as they approached, a pleasant faced woman sitting amidst a group of children, to whom she was telling stories. the children quickly discovered the strangers and ran toward them with exclamations of astonishment, so that trot and her friends became the center of a curious group, all chattering excitedly. cap'n bill's wooden leg seemed to arouse the wonder of the children, as they could not understand why he had not two meat legs. this attention seemed to please the old sailor, who patted the heads of the children kindly and then, raising his hat to the woman, he inquired: "can you tell us, madam, just what country this is?" she stared hard at all three of the strangers as she replied briefly: "jinxland." "oh!" exclaimed cap'n bill, with a puzzled look. "and where is jinxland, please?" "in the quadling country," said she. "what!" cried trot, in sudden excitement. "do you mean to say this is the quadling country of the land of oz?" "to be sure i do," the woman answered. "every bit of land that is surrounded by the great desert is the land of oz, as you ought to know as well as i do; but i'm sorry to say that jinxland is separated from the rest of the quadling country by that row of high mountains you see yonder, which have such steep sides that no one can cross them. so we live here all by ourselves, and are ruled by our own king, instead of by ozma of oz." "i've been to the land of oz before," said button-bright, "but i've never been here." "did you ever hear of jinxland before?' asked trot. "no," said button-bright. "it is on the map of oz, though," asserted the woman, "and it's a fine country, i assure you. if only," she added, and then paused to look around her with a frightened expression. "if only--" here she stopped again, as if not daring to go on with her speech. "if only what, ma'am?" asked cap'n bill. the woman sent the children into the house. then she came closer to the strangers and whispered: "if only we had a different king, we would be very happy and contented." "what's the matter with your king?" asked trot, curiously. but the woman seemed frightened to have said so much. she retreated to her porch, merely saying: "the king punishes severely any treason on the part of his subjects." "what's treason?" asked button-bright. "in this case," replied cap'n bill, "treason seems to consist of knockin' the king; but i guess we know his disposition now as well as if the lady had said more." "i wonder," said trot, going up to the woman, "if you could spare us something to eat. we haven't had anything but popcorn and lemonade for a long time." "bless your heart! of course i can spare you some food," the woman answered, and entering her cottage she soon returned with a tray loaded with sandwiches, cakes and cheese. one of the children drew a bucket of clear, cold water from a spring and the three wanderers ate heartily and enjoyed the good things immensely. when button-bright could eat no more he filled the pockets of his jacket with cakes and cheese, and not even the children objected to this. indeed they all seemed pleased to see the strangers eat, so cap'n bill decided that no matter what the king of jinxland was like, the people would prove friendly and hospitable. [illustration] "whose castle is that, yonder, ma'am?" he asked, waving his hand toward the towers that rose above the trees. "it belongs to his majesty, king krewl," she said. "oh, indeed; and does he live there?" "when he is not out hunting with his fierce courtiers and war captains," she replied. "is he hunting now?" trot inquired. "i do not know, my dear. the less we know about the king's actions the safer we are." it was evident the woman did not like to talk about king krewl and so, having finished their meal, they said good-bye and continued along the pathway. "don't you think we'd better keep away from that king's castle, cap'n?" asked trot. "well," said he, "king krewl would find out, sooner or later, that we are in his country, so we may as well face the music now. perhaps he isn't quite so bad as that woman thinks he is. kings aren't always popular with their people, you know, even if they do the best they know how." "ozma is pop'lar," said button-bright. "ozma is diff'rent from any other ruler, from all i've heard," remarked trot musingly, as she walked beside the boy. "and, after all, we are really in the land of oz, where ozma rules ev'ry king and ev'rybody else. i never heard of anybody getting hurt in her dominions, did you, button-bright?" "not when she knows about it," he replied. "but those birds landed us in just the wrong place, seems to me. they might have carried us right on, over that row of mountains, to the em'rald city." "true enough," said cap'n bill; "but they didn't, an' so we must make the best of jinxland. let's try not to be afraid." "oh, i'm not very scared," said button-bright, pausing to look at a pink rabbit that popped its head out of a hole in the field near by. "nor am i," added trot. "really, cap'n, i'm so glad to be anywhere at all in the wonderful fairyland of oz that i think i'm the luckiest girl in all the world. dorothy lives in the em'rald city, you know, and so does the scarecrow and the tin woodman and tik-tok and the shaggy man--and all the rest of 'em that we've heard so much about not to mention ozma, who must be the sweetest and loveliest girl in all the world!" "take your time, trot," advised button-bright. "you don't have to say it all in one breath, you know. and you haven't mentioned half of the curious people in the em'rald city." "that 'ere em'rald city," said cap'n bill impressively, "happens to be on the other side o' those mountains, that we're told no one is able to cross. i don't want to discourage of you, trot, but we're a'most as much separated from your ozma an' dorothy as we were when we lived in californy." there was so much truth in this statement that they all walked on in silence for some time. finally they reached the grove of stately trees that bordered the grounds of the king's castle. they had gone half-way through it when the sound of sobbing, as of someone in bitter distress, reached their ears and caused them to halt abruptly. [illustration] [illustration] chapter 10 pon, the gardener's boy it was button-bright who first discovered, lying on his face beneath a broad spreading tree near the pathway, a young man whose body shook with the force of his sobs. he was dressed in a long brown smock and had sandals on his feet, betokening one in humble life. his head was bare and showed a shock of brown, curly hair. button-bright looked down on the young man and said: "who cares, anyhow?" "i do!" cried the young man, interrupting his sobs to roll over, face upward, that he might see who had spoken. "i care, for my heart is broken!" "can't you get another one?" asked the little boy. "i don't want another!" wailed the young man. by this time trot and cap'n bill arrived at the spot and the girl leaned over and said in a sympathetic voice: "tell us your troubles and perhaps we may help you." the youth sat up, then, and bowed politely. afterward he got upon his feet, but still kept wringing his hands as he tried to choke down his sobs. trot thought he was very brave to control such awful agony so well. "my name is pon," he began. "i'm the gardener's boy." "then the gardener of the king is your father, i suppose," said trot. "not my father, but my master," was the reply. "i do the work and the gardener gives the orders. and it was not my fault, in the least, that the princess gloria fell in love with me." "did she, really?" asked the little girl. "i don't see why," remarked button-bright, staring at the youth. "and who may the princess gloria be?" inquired cap'n bill. "she is the niece of king krewl, who is her guardian. the princess lives in the castle and is the loveliest and sweetest maiden in all jinxland. she is fond of flowers and used to walk in the gardens with her attendants. at such times, if i was working at my tasks, i used to cast down my eyes as gloria passed me; but one day i glanced up and found her gazing at me with a very tender look in her eyes. the next day she dismissed her attendants and, coming to my side, began to talk with me. she said i had touched her heart as no other young man had ever done. i kissed her hand. just then the king came around a bend in the walk. he struck me with his fist and kicked me with his foot. then he seized the arm of the princess and rudely dragged her into the castle." "wasn't he awful!" gasped trot indignantly. "he is a very abrupt king," said pon, "so it was the least i could expect. up to that time i had not thought of loving princess gloria, but realizing it would be impolite not to return her love, i did so. we met at evening, now and then, and she told me the king wanted her to marry a rich courtier named googly-goo, who is old enough to be gloria's father. she has refused googly-goo thirty-nine times, but he still persists and has brought many rich presents to bribe the king. on that account king krewl has commanded his niece to marry the old man, but the princess has assured me, time and again, that she will wed only me. this morning we happened to meet in the grape arbor and as i was respectfully saluting the cheek of the princess, two of the king's guards seized me and beat me terribly before the very eyes of gloria, whom the king himself held back so she could not interfere." [illustration] "why, this king must be a monster!" cried trot. "he is far worse than that," said pon, mournfully. "but, see here," interrupted cap'n bill, who had listened carefully to pon. "this king may not be so much to blame, after all. kings are proud folks, because they're so high an' mighty, an' it isn't reasonable for a royal princess to marry a common gardener's boy." "it isn't right," declared button-bright. "a princess should marry a prince." "i'm not a common gardener's boy," protested pon. "if i had my rights i would be the king instead of krewl. as it is, i'm a prince, and as royal as any man in jinxland." "how does that come?" asked cap'n bill. "my father used to be the king and krewl was his prime minister. but one day while out hunting, king phearse--that was my father's name--had a quarrel with krewl and tapped him gently on the nose with the knuckles of his closed hand. this so provoked the wicked krewl that he tripped my father backward, so that he fell into a deep pond. at once krewl threw in a mass of heavy stones, which so weighted down my poor father that his body could not rise again to the surface. it is impossible to kill anyone in this land, as perhaps you know, but when my father was pressed down into the mud at the bottom of the deep pool and the stones held him so he could never escape, he was of no more use to himself or the world than if he had died. knowing this, krewl proclaimed himself king, taking possession of the royal castle and driving all my father's people out. i was a small boy, then, but when i grew up i became a gardener. i have served king krewl without his knowing that i am the son of the same king phearse whom he so cruelly made away with." "my, but that's a terr'bly exciting story!" said trot, drawing a long breath. "but tell us, pon, who was gloria's father?" "oh, he was the king before my father," replied pon. "father was prime minister for king kynd, who was gloria's father. she was only a baby when king kynd fell into the great gulf that lies just this side of the mountains--the same mountains that separate jinxland from the rest of the land of oz. it is said the great gulf has no bottom; but, however that may be, king kynd has never been seen again and my father became king in his place." "seems to me," said trot, "that if gloria had her rights she would be queen of jinxland." "well, her father was a king," admitted pon, "and so was my father; so we are of equal rank, although she's a great lady and i'm a humble gardener's boy. i can't see why we should not marry if we want to--except that king krewl won't let us." "it's a sort of mixed-up mess, taken altogether," remarked cap'n bill. "but we are on our way to visit king krewl, and if we get a chance, young man, we'll put in a good word for you." "do, please!" begged pon. "was it the flogging you got that broke your heart?' inquired button-bright. "why, it helped to break it, of course," said pon. "i'd get it fixed up, if i were you," advised the boy, tossing a pebble at a chipmunk in a tree. "you ought to give gloria just as good a heart as she gives you." "that's common sense," agreed cap'n bill. so they left the gardener's boy standing beside the path, and resumed their journey toward the castle. [illustration] [illustration] chapter 11 the wicked king and googly-goo when our friends approached the great doorway of the castle they found it guarded by several soldiers dressed in splendid uniforms. they were armed with swords and lances. cap'n bill walked straight up to them and asked: "does the king happen to be at home?" "his magnificent and glorious majesty, king krewl, is at present inhabiting his royal castle," was the stiff reply. "then i guess we'll go in an' say how-d'ye-do," continued cap'n bill, attempting to enter the doorway. but a soldier barred his way with a lance. "who are you, what are your names, and where do you come from? 7 demanded the soldier. "you wouldn't know if we told you," returned the sailor, "seein' as we're strangers in a strange land." "oh, if you are strangers you will be permitted to enter," said the soldier, lowering his lance. "his majesty is very fond of strangers." "do many strangers come here?" asked trot. "you are the first that ever came to our country," said the man. "but his majesty has often said that if strangers ever arrived in jinxland he would see that they had a very exciting time." cap'n bill scratched his chin thoughtfully. he wasn't very favorably impressed by this last remark. but he decided that as there was no way of escape from jinxland it would be wise to confront--the king boldly and try to win his favor. so they entered the castle, escorted by one of the soldiers. it was certainly a fine castle, with many large rooms, all beautifully furnished. the passages were winding and handsomely decorated, and after following several of these the soldier led them into an open court that occupied the very center of the huge building. it was surrounded on every side by high turreted walls, and contained beds of flowers, fountains and walks of many colored marbles which were matched together in quaint designs. in an open space near the middle of the court they saw a group of courtiers and their ladies, who surrounded a lean man who wore upon his head a jeweled crown. his face was hard and sullen and through the slits of his half-closed eyelids the eyes glowed like coals of fire. he was dressed in brilliant satins and velvets and was seated in a golden throne-chair. this personage was king krewl, and as soon as cap'n bill saw him the old sailor knew at once that he was not going to like the king of jinxland. "hello! who's here?" said his majesty, with a deep scowl. "strangers, sire," answered the soldier, bowing so low that his forehead touched the marble tiles. "strangers, eh? well, well; what an unexpected visit! advance, strangers, and give an account of yourselves." the king's voice was as harsh as his features. trot shuddered a little but cap'n bill calmly replied: "there ain't much for us to say, 'cept as we've arrived to look over your country an' see how we like it. judgin' from the way you speak, you don't know who we are, or you'd be jumpin' up to shake hands an' offer us seats. kings usually treat us pretty well, in the great big outside world where we come from, but in this little kingdom which don't amount to much, anyhow folks don't seem to 'a' got much culchure." the king listened with amazement to this bold speech, first with a frown and then gazing at the two children and the old sailor with evident curiosity. the courtiers were dumb with fear, for no one had ever dared speak in such a manner to their self-willed, cruel king before. his majesty, however, was somewhat frightened, for cruel people are always cowards, and he feared these mysterious strangers might possess magic powers that would destroy him unless he treated them well. so he commanded his people to give the new arrivals seats, and they obeyed with trembling haste. after being seated, cap'n bill lighted his pipe and began puffing smoke from it, a sight so strange to them that it filled them all with wonder. presently the king asked: "how did you penetrate to this hidden country? did you cross the desert or the mountains?" "desert," answered cap'n bill, as if the task were too easy to be worth talking about. "indeed! no one has ever been able to do that before," said the king. "well, it's easy enough, if you know how," asserted cap'n bill, so carelessly that it greatly impressed his hearers. the king shifted in his throne uneasily. he was more afraid of these strangers than before. "do you intend to stay long in jinxland?" was his next anxious question. "depends on how we like it," said cap'n bill. "just now i might suggest to your majesty to order some rooms got ready for us in your dinky little castle here. and a royal banquet, with some fried onions an' pickled tripe, would set easy on our stomicks an' make us a bit happier than we are now." "your wishes shall be attended to," said king krewl, but his eyes flashed from between their slits in a wicked way that made trot hope the food wouldn't be poisoned. at the king's command several of his attendants hastened away to give the proper orders to the castle servants and no sooner were they gone than a skinny old man entered the courtyard and bowed before the king. this disagreeable person was dressed in rich velvets, with many furbelows and laces. he was covered with golden chains, finely wrought rings and jeweled ornaments. he walked with mincing steps and glared at all the courtiers as if he considered himself far superior to any or all of them. [illustration] "well, well, your majesty; what news--what news?" he demanded, in a shrill, cracked voice. the king gave him a surly look. "no news, lord googly-goo, except that strangers have arrived," he said. googly-goo cast a contemptuous glance at cap'n bill and a disdainful one at trot and button-bright. then he said: "strangers do not interest me, your majesty. but the princess gloria is very interesting--very interesting, indeed! what does she say, sire? will she marry me?" "ask her," retorted the king. "i have, many times; and every time she has refused." "well?" said the king harshly. "well," said googly-goo in a jaunty tone, "a bird that _can_ sing, and _won't_ sing, must be _made_ to sing." "huh!" sneered the king. "that's easy, with a bird; but a girl is harder to manage." "still," persisted googly-goo, "we must overcome difficulties. the chief trouble is that gloria fancies she loves that miserable gardener's boy, pon. suppose we throw pon into the great gulf, your majesty?" "it would do you no good," returned the king. "she would still love him." "too bad, too bad!" sighed googly-goo. "i have laid aside more than a bushel of precious gems--each worth a king's ransom--to present to your majesty on the day i wed gloria." the king's eyes sparkled, for he loved wealth above everything; but the next moment he frowned deeply again. "it won't help us to kill pon," he muttered. "what we must do is kill gloria's love for pon." "that is better, if you can find a way to do it," agreed googly-goo. "everything would come right if you could kill gloria's love for that gardener's boy. really, sire, now that i come to think of it, there must be fully a bushel and a half of those jewels!" just then a messenger entered the court to say that the banquet was prepared for the strangers. so cap'n bill, trot and button-bright entered the castle and were taken to a room where a fine feast was spread upon the table. "i don't like that lord googly-goo," remarked trot as she was busily eating. "nor i," said cap'n bill. "but from the talk we heard i guess the gardener's boy won't get the princess." "perhaps not," returned the girl; "but i hope old googly doesn't get her, either." "the king means to sell her for all those jewels," observed button-bright, his mouth half full of cake and jam. "poor princess!" sighed trot. "i'm sorry for her, although i've never seen her. but if she says no to googly-goo, and means it, what can they do?" "don't let us worry about a strange princess," advised cap'n bill. "i've a notion we're not too safe, ourselves, with this cruel king." the two children felt the same way and all three were rather solemn during the remainder of the meal. when they had eaten, the servants escorted them to their rooms. cap'n bill's room was way to one end of the castle, very high up, and trot's room was at the opposite end, rather low down. as for button-bright, they placed him in the middle, so that all were as far apart as they could possibly be. they didn't like this arrangement very well, but all the rooms were handsomely furnished and being guests of the king they dared not complain. after the strangers had left the courtyard the king and googly-goo had a long talk together, and the king said: [illustration] "i cannot force gloria to marry you just now, because those strangers may interfere. i suspect that the wooden-legged man possesses great magical powers, or he would never have been able to carry himself and those children across the deadly desert." "i don't like him; he looks dangerous," answered googly-goo. "but perhaps you are mistaken about his being a wizard. why don't you test his powers?" "how?" asked the king. "send for the wicked witch. she will tell you in a moment whether that wooden-legged person is a common man or a magician." "ha! that's a good idea," cried the king. "why didn't i think of the wicked witch before? but the woman demands rich rewards for her services." "never mind; i will pay her," promised the wealthy googly-goo. so a servant was dispatched to summon the wicked witch, who lived but a few leagues from king krewl's castle. while they awaited her, the withered old courtier proposed that they pay a visit to princess gloria and see if she was not now in a more complaisant mood. so the two started away together and searched the castle over without finding gloria. at last googly-goo suggested she might be in the rear garden, which was a large park filled with bushes and trees and surrounded by a high wall. and what was their anger, when they turned a corner of the path, to find in a quiet nook the beautiful princess, and kneeling before her, pon, the gardener's boy! with a roar of rage the king dashed forward; but pon had scaled the wall by means of a ladder, which still stood in its place, and when he saw the king coming he ran up the ladder and made good his escape. but this left gloria confronted by her angry guardian, the king, and by old googly-goo, who was trembling with a fury he could not express in words. seizing the princess by her arm the king dragged her back to the castle. pushing her into a room on the lower floor he locked the door upon the unhappy girl. and at that moment the arrival of the wicked witch was announced. [illustration] hearing this, the king smiled, as a tiger smiles, showing his teeth. and googly-goo smiled, as a serpent smiles, for he had no teeth except a couple of fangs. and having frightened each other with these smiles the two dreadful men went away to the royal council chamber to meet the wicked witch. [illustration: queen gloria] [illustration] chapter 12 the wooden-legged grass-hopper now it so happened that trot, from the window of her room, had witnessed the meeting of the lovers in the garden and had seen the king come and drag gloria away. the little girl's heart went out in sympathy for the poor princess, who seemed to her to be one of the sweetest and loveliest young ladies she had ever seen, so she crept along the passages and from a hidden niche saw gloria locked in her room. the key was still in the lock, so when the king had gone away, followed by googly-goo, trot stole up to the door, turned the key and entered. the princess lay prone upon a couch, sobbing bitterly. trot went up to her and smoothed her hair and tried to comfort her. "don't cry," she said. "i've unlocked the door, so you can go away any time you want to." "it isn't that," sobbed the princess. "i am unhappy because they will not let me love pon, the gardener's boy!" "well, never mind; pon isn't any great shakes, anyhow, seems to me," said trot soothingly. "there are lots of other people you can love." gloria rolled over on the couch and looked at the little girl reproachfully. "pon has won my heart, and i can't help loving him," she explained. then with sudden indignation she added: "but i'll never love googly-goo--never, as long as i live!" "i should say not!" replied trot. "pon may not be much good, but old googly is very, very bad. hunt around, and i'm sure you'll find someone worth your love. you're very pretty, you know, and almost anyone ought to love you." "you don't understand, my dear," said gloria, as she wiped the tears from her eyes with a dainty lace handkerchief bordered with pearls. "when you are older you will realize that a young lady cannot decide whom she will love, or choose the most worthy. her heart alone decides for her, and whomsoever her heart selects, she must love, whether he amounts to much or not." trot was a little puzzled by this speech, which seemed to her unreasonable; but she made no reply and presently gloria's grief softened and she began to question the little girl about herself and her adventures. trot told her how they had happened to come to jinxland, and all about cap'n bill and the ork and pessim and the bumpy man. while they were thus conversing together, getting more and more friendly as they became better acquainted, in the council chamber the king and googly-goo were talking with the wicked witch. this evil creature was old and ugly. she had lost one eye and wore a black patch over it, so the people of jinxland had named her "blinkie." of course witches are forbidden to exist in the land of oz, but jinxland was so far removed from the center of ozma's dominions, and so absolutely cut off from it by the steep mountains and the bottomless gulf, that the laws of oz were not obeyed very well in that country. so there were several witches in jinxland who were the terror of the people, but king krewl favored them and permitted them to exercise their evil sorcery. blinkie was the leader of all the other witches and therefore the most hated and feared. the king used her witchcraft at times to assist him in carrying out his cruelties and revenge, but he was always obliged to pay blinkie large sums of money or heaps of precious jewels before she would undertake an enchantment. this made him hate the old woman almost as much as his subjects did, but to-day lord googly-goo had agreed to pay the witch's price, so the king greeted her with gracious favor. "can you destroy the love of princess gloria for the gardener's boy?" inquired his majesty. the wicked witch thought about it before she replied: "that's a hard question to answer. i can do lots of clever magic, but love is a stubborn thing to conquer. when you think you've killed it, it's liable to bob up again as strong as ever. i believe love and cats have nine lives. in other words, killing love is a hard job, even for a skillful witch, but i believe i can do something that will answer your purpose just as well." "what is that?" asked the king. [illustration] "i can freeze the girl's heart. i've got a special incantation for that, and when gloria's heart is thoroughly frozen she can no longer love pon." "just the thing!" exclaimed googly-goo, and the king was likewise much pleased. they bargained a long time as to the price, but finally the old courtier agreed to pay the wicked witch's demands. it was arranged that they should take gloria to blinkie's house the next day, to have her heart frozen. then king krewl mentioned to the old hag the strangers who had that day arrived in jinxland, and said to her: "i think the two children--the boy and the girl--are unable to harm me, but i have a suspicion that the wooden-legged man is a powerful wizard." the witch's face wore a troubled look when she heard this. "if you are right," she said, "this wizard might spoil my incantation and interfere with me in other ways. so it will be best for me to meet this stranger at once and match my magic against his, to decide which is the stronger." "all right," said the king. "come with me and i will lead you to the man's room." googly-goo did not accompany them, as he was obliged to go home to get the money and jewels he had promised to pay old blinkie, so the other two climbed several flights of stairs and went through many passages until they came to the room occupied by cap'n bill. the sailor-man, finding his bed soft and inviting, and being tired with the adventures he had experienced, had decided to take a nap. when the wicked witch and the king softly opened his door and entered, cap'n bill was snoring with such vigor that he did not hear them at all. blinkie approached the bed and with her one eye anxiously stared at the sleeping stranger. "ah," she said in a soft whisper, "i believe you are right, king krewl. the man looks to me like a very powerful wizard. but by good luck i have caught him asleep, so i shall transform him before he wakes up, giving him such a form that he will be unable to oppose me." "careful!" cautioned the king, also speaking low. "if he discovers what you are doing he may destroy you, and that would annoy me because i need you to attend to gloria." but the wicked witch realized as well as he did that she must be careful. she carried over her arm a black bag, from which she now drew several packets carefully wrapped in paper. three of these she selected, replacing the others in the bag. two of the packets she mixed together and then she cautiously opened the third. "better stand back, your majesty," she advised, "for if this powder falls on you you might be transformed yourself." the king hastily retreated to the end of the room. as blinkie mixed the third powder with the others she waved her hands over it, mumbled a few words, and then backed away as quickly as she could. cap'n bill was slumbering peacefully, all unconscious of what was going on. puff! a great cloud of smoke rolled over the bed and completely hid him from view. when the smoke rolled away, both blinkie and the king saw that the body of the stranger had quite disappeared, while in his place, crouching in the middle of the bed, was a little gray grasshopper. one curious thing about this grasshopper was that the last joint of its left leg was made of wood. another curious thing--considering it was a grasshopper--was that it began talking, crying out in a tiny but sharp voice: "here--you people! what do you mean by treating me so? put me back where i belong, at once, or you'll be sorry!" [illustration] the cruel king turned pale at hearing the grasshopper's threats, but the wicked witch merely laughed in derision. then she raised her stick and aimed a vicious blow at the grasshopper, but before the stick struck the bed the tiny hopper made a marvelous jump--marvelous, indeed, when we consider that it had a wooden leg. it rose in the air and sailed across the room and passed right through the open window, where it disappeared from their view. "good!" shouted the king. "we are well rid of this desperate wizard." and then they both laughed heartily at the success of the incantation, and went away to complete their horrid plans. after trot had visited a time with princess gloria, the little girl went to button-bright's room but did not find him there. then she went to cap'n bill's room, but he was not there because the witch and the king had been there before her. so she made her way downstairs and questioned the servants. they said they had seen the little boy go out into the garden, some time ago, but the old man with the wooden leg they had not seen at all. therefore trot, not knowing what else to do, rambled through the great gardens, seeking for button-bright or cap'n bill and not finding either of them. this part of the garden, which lay before the castle, was not walled in, but extended to the roadway, and the paths were open to the edge of the forest; so, after two hours of vain search for her friends, the little girl returned to the castle. but at the doorway a soldier stopped her. "i live here," said trot, "so it's all right to let me in. the king has given me a room." "well, he has taken it back again," was the soldier's reply. "his majesty's orders are to turn you away if you attempt to enter. i am also ordered to forbid the boy, your companion, to again enter the king's castle." "how 'bout cap'n bill'?' she inquired. "why, it seems he has mysteriously disappeared," replied the soldier, shaking his head ominously. "where he has gone to, i can't make out, but i can assure you he is no longer in this castle. i'm sorry, little girl, to disappoint you. don't blame me; i must obey my master's orders." now, all her life trot had been accustomed to depend on cap'n bill, so when this good friend was suddenly taken from her she felt very miserable and forlorn indeed. she was brave enough not to cry before the soldier, or even to let him see her grief and anxiety, but after she was turned away from the castle she sought a quiet bench in the garden and for a time sobbed as if her heart would break. it was button-bright who found her, at last, just as the sun had set and the shades of evening were falling. he also had been turned away from the king's castle, when he tried to enter it, and in the park he came across trot. "never mind," said the boy. "we can find a place to sleep." "i want cap'n bill," wailed the girl. "well, so do i," was the reply. "but we haven't got him. where do you s'pose he is, trot?" "i don't s'pose anything. he's gone, an' that's all i know 'bout it." button-bright sat on the bench beside her and thrust his hands in the pockets of his knickerbockers. then he reflected somewhat gravely for him. "cap'n bill isn't around here," he said, letting his eyes wander over the dim garden, "so we must go somewhere else if we want to find him. besides, it's fast getting dark, and if we want to find a place to sleep we must get busy while we can see where to go." he rose from the bench as he said this and trot also jumped up, drying her eyes on her apron. then she walked beside him out of the grounds of the king's castle. they did not go by the main path, but passed through an opening in a hedge and found themselves in a small but well-worn roadway. following this for some distance, along a winding way, they came upon no house or building that would afford them refuge for the night. it became so dark that they could scarcely see their way, and finally trot stopped and suggested that they camp under a tree. [illustration] "all right," said button-bright, "i've often found that leaves make a good warm blanket. but--look there, trot!--isn't that a light flashing over yonder?" "it certainly is, button-bright. let's go over and see if it's a house. whoever lives there couldn't treat us worse than the king did." to reach the light they had to leave the road, so they stumbled over hillocks and brushwood, hand in hand, keeping the tiny speck of light always in sight. they were rather forlorn little waifs, outcasts in a strange country and forsaken by their only friend and guardian, cap'n bill. so they were very glad when finally they reached a small cottage and, looking in through its one window, saw pon, the gardener's boy, sitting by a fire of twigs. as trot opened the door and walked boldly in, pon sprang up to greet them. they told him of cap'n bill's disappearance and how they had been turned out of the king's castle. as they finished the story pon shook his head sadly. "king krewl is plotting mischief, i fear," said he, "for to-day he sent for old blinkie, the wicked witch, and with my own eyes i saw her come from the castle and hobble away toward her hut. she had been with the king and googly-goo, and i was afraid they were going to work some enchantment on gloria so she would no longer love me. but perhaps the witch was only called to the castle to enchant your friend, cap'n bill." "could she do that?" asked trot, horrified by the suggestion. "i suppose so, for old blinkie can do a lot of wicked magical things." "what sort of an enchantment could she put on cap'n bill?" "i don't know. but he has disappeared, so i'm pretty certain she has done something dreadful to him. but don't worry. if it has happened, it can't be helped, and if it hasn't happened we may be able to find him in the morning." with this pon went to the cupboard and brought food for them. trot was far too worried to eat, but button-bright made a good supper from the simple food and then lay down before the fire and went to sleep. the little girl and the gardener's boy, however, sat for a long time staring into the fire, busy with their thoughts. but at last trot, too, became sleepy and pon gently covered her with the one blanket he possessed. then he threw more wood on the fire and laid himself down before it, next to button-bright. soon all three were fast asleep. they were in a good deal of trouble; but they were young, and sleep was good to them because for a time it made them forget. [illustration] [illustration] chapter 13 glinda the good and the scarecrow of oz that country south of the emerald city, in the land of oz, is known as the quadling country, and in the very southernmost part of it stands a splendid palace in which lives glinda the good. glinda is the royal sorceress of oz. she has wonderful magical powers and uses them only to benefit the subjects of ozma's kingdom. even the famous wizard of oz pays tribute to her, for glinda taught him all the real magic he knows, and she is his superior in all sorts of sorcery. everyone loves glinda, from the dainty and exquisite ruler, ozma, down to the humblest inhabitant of oz, for she is always kindly and helpful and willing to listen to their troubles, however busy she may be. no one knows her age, but all can see how beautiful and stately she is. her hair is like red gold and finer than the finest silken strands. her eyes are blue as the sky and always frank and smiling. her cheeks are the envy of peach-blows and her mouth is enticing as a rosebud. glinda is tall and wears splendid gowns that trail behind her as she walks. she wears no jewels, for her beauty would shame them. for attendants glinda has half a hundred of the loveliest girls in oz. they are gathered from all over oz, from among the winkies, the munchkins, the gillikins and the quadlings, as well as from ozma's magnificent emerald city, and it is considered a great favor to be allowed to serve the royal sorceress. among the many wonderful things in glinda's palace is the great book of records. in this book is inscribed everything that takes place in all the world, just the instant it happens; so that by referring to its pages glinda knows what is taking place far and near, in every country that exists. in this way she learns when and where she can help any in distress or danger, and although her duties are confined to assisting those who inhabit the land of oz, she is always interested in what takes place in the unprotected outside world. [illustration: the most popular man in the land of oz] so it was that on a certain evening glinda sat in her library, surrounded by a bevy of her maids, who were engaged in spinning, weaving and embroidery, when an attendant announced the arrival at the palace of the scarecrow. this personage was one of the most famous and popular in all the land of oz. his body was merely a suit of munchkin clothes stuffed with straw, but his head was a round sack filled with bran, with which the wizard of oz had mixed some magic brains of a very superior sort. the eyes, nose and mouth of the scarecrow were painted upon the front of the sack, as were his ears, and since this quaint being had been endowed with life, the expression of his face was very interesting, if somewhat comical. the scarecrow was good all through, even to his brains, and while he was naturally awkward in his movements and lacked the neat symmetry of other people, his disposition was so kind and considerate and he was so obliging and honest, that all who knew him loved him, and there were few people in oz who had not met our scarecrow and made his acquaintance. he lived part of the time in ozma's palace at the emerald city, part of the time in his own corncob castle in the winkie country, and part of the time he traveled over all oz, visiting with the people and playing with the children, whom he dearly loved. it was on one of his wandering journeys that the scarecrow had arrived at glinda's palace, and the sorceress at once made him welcome. as he sat beside her, talking of his adventures, he asked: "what's new in the way of news?" glinda opened her great book of records and read some of the last pages. "here is an item quite curious and interesting," she announced, an accent of surprise in her voice. "three people from the big outside world have arrived in jinxland." "where is jinxland?' inquired the scarecrow. "very near here, a little to the east of us," she said. "in fact, jinxland is a little slice taken off the quadling country, but separated from it by a range of high mountains, at the foot of which lies a wide, deep gulf that is supposed to be impassable." "then jinxland is really a part of the land of oz," said he. "yes," returned glinda, "but oz people know nothing of it, except what is recorded here in my book." "what does the book say about it?' asked the scarecrow. "it is ruled by a wicked man called king krewl, although he has no right to the title. most of the people are good, but they are very timid and live in constant fear of their fierce ruler. there are also several wicked witches who keep the inhabitants of jinxland in a state of terror." "do those witches have any magical powers?" inquired the scarecrow. "yes, they seem to understand witchcraft in its most evil form, for one of them has just transformed a respectable and honest old sailor--one of the strangers who arrived there--into a grasshopper. this same witch, blinkie by name, is also planning to freeze the heart of a beautiful jinxland girl named princess gloria." "why, that's a dreadful thing to do!" exclaimed the scarecrow. glinda's face was very grave. she read in her book how trot and button-bright were turned out of the king's castle, and how they found refuge in the hut of pon, the gardener's boy. "i'm afraid those helpless earth people will endure much suffering in jinxland, even if the wicked king and the witches permit them to live," said the good sorceress, thoughtfully. "i wish i might help them." "can i do anything?" asked the scarecrow, anxiously. "if so, tell me what to do, and til do it." [illustration] for a few moments glinda did not reply, but sat musing over the records. then she said: "i am going to send you to jinxland, to protect trot and button-bright and cap'n bill." "all right," answered the scarecrow in a cheerful voice. "i know button-bright already, for he has been in the land of oz before. you remember he went away from the land of oz in one of our wizard's big bubbles." "yes," said glinda, "i remember that." then she carefully instructed the scarecrow what to do and gave him certain magical things which he placed in the pockets of his ragged munchkin coat. "as you have no need to sleep," said she, "you may as well start at once." "the night is the same as day to me," he replied, "except that i cannot see my way so well in the dark." "i will furnish a light to guide you," promised the sorceress. so the scarecrow bade her good-bye and at once started on his journey. by morning he had reached the mountains that separated the quadling country from jinxland. the sides of these mountains were too steep to climb, but the scarecrow took a small rope from his pocket and tossed one end upward, into the air. the rope unwound itself for hundreds of feet, until it caught upon a peak of rock at the very top of a mountain, for it was a magic rope furnished him by glinda. the scarecrow climbed the rope and, after pulling it up, let it down on the other side of the mountain range. when he descended the rope on this side he found himself in jinxland, but at his feet yawned the great gulf, which must be crossed before he could proceed any farther. [illustration] [illustration] the scarecrow knelt down and examined the ground carefully, and in a moment he discovered a fuzzy brown spider that had rolled itself into a ball. so he took two tiny pills from his pocket and laid them beside the spider, which unrolled itself and quickly ate up the pills. then the scarecrow said in a voice of command: "spin!" and the spider obeyed instantly. [illustration] in a few moments the little creature had spun two slender but strong strands that reached way across the gulf, one being five or six feet above the other. when these were completed the scarecrow started across the tiny bridge, walking upon one strand as a person walks upon a rope, and holding to the upper strand with his hands to prevent him from losing his balance and toppling over into the gulf. the tiny threads held him safely, thanks to the strength given them by the magic pills. presently he was safe across and standing on the plains of jinxland. far away he could see the towers of the king's castle and toward this he at once began to walk. [illustration] chapter 14 the frozen heart in the hut of pon, the gardener's boy, button-bright was the first to waken in the morning. leaving his companions still asleep, he went out into the fresh morning air and saw some blackberries growing on bushes in a field not far away. going to the bushes he found the berries ripe and sweet, so he began eating them. more bushes were scattered over the fields, so the boy wandered on, from bush to bush, without paying any heed to where he was wandering. then a butterfly fluttered by. he gave chase to it and followed it a long way. when finally he paused to look around him, button-bright could see no sign of pon's house, nor had he the slightest idea in which direction it lay. "well, i'm lost again," he remarked to himself. "but never mind; i've been lost lots of times. someone is sure to find me." trot was a little worried about button-bright when she awoke and found him gone. knowing how careless he was, she believed that he had strayed away, but felt that he would come back in time, because he had a habit of not staying lost. pon got the little girl some food for her breakfast and then together they went out of the hut and stood in the sunshine. pon's house was some distance off the road, but they could see it from where they stood and both gave a start of surprise when they discovered two soldiers walking along the roadway and escorting princess gloria between them. the poor girl had her hands bound together, to prevent her from struggling, and the soldiers rudely dragged her forward when her steps seemed to lag. behind this group came king krewl, wearing his jeweled crown and swinging in his hand a slender golden staff with a ball of clustered gems at one end. "where are they going?'' asked trot. "to the house of the wicked witch, i fear," pon replied. "come, let us follow them, for i am sure they intend to harm my dear gloria." "won't they see us?" she asked timidly. "we won't let them. i know a short cut through the trees to blinkie's house," said he. so they hurried away through the trees and reached the house of the witch ahead of the king and his soldiers. hiding themselves in the shrubbery, they watched the approach of poor gloria and her escort, all of whom passed so near to them that pon could have put out a hand and touched his sweetheart, had he dared to. blinkie's house had eight sides, with a door and a window in each side. smoke was coming out of the chimney and as the guards brought gloria to one of the doors it was opened by the old witch in person. she chuckled with evil glee and rubbed her skinny hands together to show the delight with which she greeted her victim, for blinkie was pleased to be able to perform her wicked rites on one so fair and sweet as the princess. gloria struggled to resist when they bade her enter the house, so the soldiers forced her through the doorway and even the king gave her a shove as he followed close behind. pon was so incensed at the cruelty shown gloria that he forgot all caution and rushed forward to enter the house also; but one of the soldiers prevented him, pushing the gardener's boy away with violence and slamming the door in his face. "never mind," said trot soothingly, as pon rose from where he had fallen. "you couldn't do much to help the poor princess if you were inside. how unfortunate it is that you are in love with her!" "true," he answered sadly, "it is indeed my misfortune. if i did not love her, it would be none of my business what the king did to his niece gloria; but the unlucky circumstance of my loving her makes it my duty to defend her." "i don't see how you can, duty or no duty," observed trot. "no; i am powerless, for they are stronger than i. but we might peek in through the window and see what they are doing." trot was somewhat curious, too, so they crept up to one of the windows and looked in, and it so happened that those inside the witch's house were so busy they did not notice that pon and trot were watching them. gloria had been tied to a stout post in the center of the room and the king was giving the wicked witch a quantity of money and jewels, which googly-goo had provided in payment. when this had been done the king said to her: "are you perfectly sure you can freeze this maiden's heart, so that she will no longer love that low gardener's boy?" "sure as witchcraft, your majesty," the creature replied. "then get to work," said the king. "there may be some unpleasant features about the ceremony that would annoy me, so i'll bid you good day and leave you to carry out your contract. one word, however: if you fail, i shall burn you at the stake!" then he beckoned to his soldiers to follow him, and throwing wide the door of the house walked out. this action was so sudden that king krewl almost caught trot and pon eavesdropping, but they managed to run around the house before he saw them. away he marched, up the road, followed by his men, heartlessly leaving gloria to the mercies of old blinkie. [illustration] when they again crept up to the window, trot and pon saw blinkie gloating over her victim. although nearly fainting from fear, the proud princess gazed with haughty defiance into the face of the wicked creature; but she was bound so tightly to the post that she could do no more to express her loathing. pretty soon blinkie went to a kettle that was swinging by a chain over the fire and tossed into it several magical compounds. the kettle gave three flashes, and at every flash another witch appeared in the room. these hags were very ugly but when one-eyed blinkie whispered her orders to them they grinned with joy as they began dancing around gloria. first one and then another cast something into the kettle, when to the astonishment of the watchers at the window all three of the old women were instantly transformed into maidens of exquisite beauty, dressed in the daintiest costumes imaginable. only their eyes could not be disguised, and an evil glare still shone in their depths. but if the eyes were cast down or hidden, one could not help but admire these beautiful creatures, even with the knowledge that they were mere illusions of witchcraft. trot certainly admired them, for she had never seen anything so dainty and bewitching, but her attention was quickly drawn to their deeds instead of their persons, and then horror replaced admiration. into the kettle old blinkie poured another mess from a big brass bottle she took from a chest, and this made the kettle begin to bubble and smoke violently. one by one the beautiful witches approached to stir the contents of the kettle and to mutter a magic charm. their movements were graceful and rhythmic and the wicked witch who had called them to her aid watched them with an evil grin upon her wrinkled face. finally the incantation was complete. the kettle ceased bubbling and together the witches lifted it from the fire. then blinkie brought a wooden ladle and filled it from the contents of the kettle. going with the spoon to princess gloria she cried: "love no more! magic art now will freeze your mortal heart!" with this she dashed the contents of the ladle full upon gloria's breast. trot saw the body of the princess become transparent, so that her beating heart showed plainly. but now the heart turned from a vivid red to gray, and then to white. a layer of frost formed about it and tiny icicles clung to its surface. then slowly the body of the girl became visible again and the heart was hidden from view. gloria seemed to have fainted, but now she recovered and, opening her beautiful eyes, stared coldly and without emotion at the group of witches confronting her. blinkie and the others knew by that one cold look that their charm had been successful. they burst into a chorus of wild laughter and the three beautiful ones began dancing again, while blinkie unbound the princess and set her free. trot rubbed her eyes to prove that she was wide awake and seeing clearly, for her astonishment was great when the three lovely maidens turned into ugly, crooked hags again, leaning on broomsticks and canes. they jeered at gloria, but the princess regarded them with cold disdain. being now free, she walked to a door, opened it and passed out. and the witches let her go. trot and pon had been so intent upon this scene that in their eagerness they had pressed quite hard against the window. just as gloria went out of the house the window-sash broke loose from its fastenings and fell with a crash into the room. the witches uttered a chorus of screams and then, seeing that their magical incantation had been observed, they rushed for the open window with uplifted broomsticks and canes. but pon was off like the wind, and trot followed at his heels. fear lent them strength to run, to leap across ditches, to speed up the hills and to vault the low fences as a deer would. [illustration] the band of witches had dashed through the window in pursuit; but blinkie was so old, and the others so crooked and awkward, that they soon realized they would be unable to overtake the fugitives. so the three who had been summoned by the wicked witch put their canes or broomsticks between their legs and flew away through the air, quickly disappearing against the blue sky. blinkie, however, was so enraged at pon and trot that she hobbled on in the direction they had taken, fully determined to catch them, in time, and to punish them terribly for spying upon her witchcraft. when pon and trot had run so far that they were confident they had made good their escape, they sat down near the edge of a forest to get their breath again, for both were panting hard from their exertions. trot was the first to recover speech, and she said to her companion: "my! wasn't it tenable?" "the most terrible thing i ever saw," pon agreed. "and they froze gloria's heart; so now she can't love you any more." "well, they froze her heart, to be sure," admitted pon, "but i'm in hopes i can melt it with my love." "where do you s'pose gloria is?' asked the girl, after a pause. "she left the witch's house just before we did. perhaps she has gone back to the king's castle," he said. "i'm pretty sure she started off in a different direction," declared trot. "i looked over my shoulder, as i ran, to see how close the witches were, and i'm sure i saw gloria walking slowly away toward the north." "then let us circle around that way," proposed pon, "and perhaps we shall meet her." trot agreed to this and they left the grove and began to circle around toward the north, thus drawing nearer and nearer to old blinkie's house again. the wicked witch did not suspect this change of direction, so when she came to the grove she passed through it and continued on. pon and trot had reached a place less than half a mile from the witch's house when they saw gloria walking toward them. the princess moved with great dignity and with no show of haste whatever, holding her head high and looking neither to right nor left. pon rushed forward, holding out his arms as if to embrace her and calling her sweet names. but gloria gazed upon him coldly and repelled him with a haughty gesture. at this the poor gardener's boy sank upon his knees and hid his face in his arms, weeping bitter tears; but the princess was not at all moved by his distress. passing him by, she drew her skirts aside, as if unwilling they should touch him, and then she walked up the path a way and hesitated, as if uncertain where to go next. trot was grieved by pon's sobs and indignant because gloria treated him so badly. but she remembered why. "i guess your heart is frozen, all right," she said to the princess. gloria nodded gravely, in reply, and then turned her back upon the little girl. "can't you like even me?" asked trot, half pleadingly. "no," said gloria. "your voice sounds like a refrig'rator," sighed the little girl. "i'm awful sorry for you, 'cause you were sweet an' nice to me before this happened. you can't help it, of course; but it's a dreadful thing, jus' the same." "my heart is frozen to all mortal loves," announced gloria, calmly. "i do not love even myself." [illustration] "that's too bad," said trot, "for, if you can't love anybody, you can't expect anybody to love you." "i do!" cried pon. "i shall always love her." "well, you're just a gardener's boy," replied trot, "and i didn't think you 'mounted to much, from the first. i can love the old princess gloria, with a warm heart an' nice manners, but this one gives me the shivers." "it's her icy heart, that's all," said pon. "that's enough," insisted trot. "seeing her heart isn't big enough to skate on, i can't see that she's of any use to anyone. for my part, i'm goin' to try to find button-bright an' cap'n bill." "i will go with you," decided pon. "it is evident that gloria no longer loves me and that her heart is frozen too stiff for me to melt it with my own love; therefore i may as well help you to find your friends." as trot started off, pon cast one more imploring look at the princess, who returned it with a chilly stare. so he followed after the little girl. as for the princess, she hesitated a moment and then turned in the same direction the others had taken, but going far more slowly. soon she heard footsteps pattering behind her, and up came googly-goo, a little out of breath with running. "stop, gloria!" he cried. "i have come to take you back to my mansion, where we are to be married." she looked at him wonderingly a moment, then tossed her head disdainfully and walked on. but googly-goo kept beside her. "what does this mean?" he demanded. "haven't you discovered that you no longer love that gardener's boy, who stood in my way?" "yes; i have discovered it," she replied. "my heart is frozen to all mortal loves. i cannot love you, or pon, or the cruel king my uncle, or even myself. go your way, googly-goo, for i will wed no one at all." he stopped in dismay when he heard this, but in another minute he exclaimed angrily: "you _must_ wed me, princess gloria, whether you want to or not! i paid to have your heart frozen; i also paid the king to permit our marriage. if you now refuse me it will mean that i have been robbed--robbed--robbed of my precious money and jewels!" he almost wept with despair, but she laughed a cold, bitter laugh and passed on. googly-goo caught at her arm, as if to restrain her, but she whirled and dealt him a blow that sent him reeling into a ditch beside the path. here he lay for a long time, half covered by muddy water, dazed with surprise. finally the old courtier arose, dripping, and climbed from the ditch. the princess had gone; so, muttering threats of vengeance upon her, upon the king and upon blinkie, old googly-goo hobbled back to his mansion to have the mud removed from his costly velvet clothes. [illustration] [illustration] chapter 15 trot meets the scarecrow trot and pon covered many leagues of ground, searching through forests, in fields and in many of the little villages of jinxland, but could find no trace of either cap'n bill or button-bright. finally they paused beside a cornfield and sat upon a stile to rest. pon took some apples from his pocket and gave one to trot. then he began eating another himself, for this was their time for luncheon. when his apple was finished pon tossed the core into the field. "tchuk-tchuk!" said a strange voice. "what do you mean by hitting me in the eye with an apple-core?" then rose up the form of the scarecrow, who had hidden himself in the cornfield while he examined pon and trot and decided whether they were worthy to be helped. "excuse me," said pon. "i didn't know you were there." "how did you happen to be there, anyhow?" asked trot. the scarecrow came forward with awkward steps and stood beside them. "ah, you are the gardener's boy," he said to pon. then he turned to trot. "and you are the little girl who came to jinxland riding on a big bird, and who has had the misfortune to lose her friend, cap'n bill, and her chum, button-bright." "why, how did you know all that?" she inquired. "i know a lot of things," replied the scarecrow, winking at her comically. "my brains are the carefully-assorted, double-distilled, high-efficiency sort that the wizard of oz makes. he admits, himself, that my brains are the best he ever manufactured." "i think i've heard of you," said trot slowly, as she looked the scarecrow over with much interest; "but you used to live in the land of oz." "oh, i do now," he replied cheerfully. "i've just come over the mountains from the quadling country to see if i can be of any help to you." "who, me?" asked pon. "no, the strangers from the big world. it seems they need looking after." "i'm doing that myself," said pon, a little ungraciously. "if you will pardon me for saying so, i don't see how a scarecrow with painted eyes can look after anyone." "if you don't see that, you are more blind than the scarecrow," asserted trot. "he's a fairy man, pon, and comes from the fairyland of oz, so he can do 'most anything. i hope," she added, turning to the scarecrow, "you can find cap'n bill for me." "i will try, anyhow," he promised. "but who is that old woman who is running toward us and shaking her stick at us?" trot and pon turned around and both uttered an exclamation of fear. the next instant they took to their heels and ran fast up the path. for it was old blinkie, the wicked witch, who had at last traced them to this place. her anger was so great that she was determined not to abandon the chase of pon and trot until she had caught and punished them. the scarecrow understood at once that the old woman meant harm to his new friends, so as she drew near he stepped before her. his appearance was so sudden and unexpected that blinkie ran into him and toppled him over, but she tripped on his straw body and went rolling in the path beside him. [illustration] the scarecrow sat up and said: "i beg your pardon!" but she whacked him with her stick and knocked him flat again. then, furious with rage, the old witch sprang upon her victim and began pulling the straw out of his body. the poor scarecrow was helpless to resist and in a few moments all that was left of him was an empty suit of clothes and a heap of straw beside it. fortunately, blinkie did not harm his head, for it rolled into a little hollow and escaped her notice. fearing that pon and trot would escape her, she quickly resumed the chase and disappeared over the brow of a hill, following the direction in which she had seen them go. only a short time elapsed before a gray grasshopper with a wooden leg came hopping along and lit directly on the upturned face of the scarecrow's head. "pardon me, but you are resting yourself upon my nose," remarked the scarecrow. [illustration] "oh! are you alive?" asked the grasshopper. "that is a question i have never been able to decide," said the scarecrow's head. "when my body is properly stuffed i have animation and can move around as well as any live person. the brains in the head you are now occupying as a throne, are of very superior quality and do a lot of very clever thinking. but whether that is being alive, or not, i cannot prove to you; for one who lives is liable to death, while i am only liable to destruction." "seems to me," said the grasshopper, rubbing his nose with his front legs, "that in your case it doesn't matter--unless you're destroyed already." "i am not; all i need is re-stuffing," declared the scarecrow; "and if pon and trot escape the witch, and come back here, i am sure they will do me that favor." "tell me! are trot and pon around here?" inquired the grasshopper, its small voice trembling with excitement. the scarecrow did not answer at once, for both his eyes were staring straight upward at a beautiful face that was slightly bent over his head. it was, indeed, princess gloria, who had wandered to this spot, very much surprised when she heard the scarecrow's head talk and the tiny gray grasshopper answer it. "this," said the scarecrow, still staring at her, "must be the princess who loves pon, the gardener's boy." "oh, indeed!" exclaimed the grasshopper--who of course was cap'n bill--as he examined the young lady curiously. "no," said gloria frigidly, "i do not love pon, or anyone else, for the wicked witch has frozen my heart." "what a shame!" cried the scarecrow. "one so lovely should be able to love. but would you mind, my dear, stuffing that straw into my body again?" the dainty princess glanced at the straw and at the well-worn blue munchkin clothes and shrank back in disdain. but she was spared from refusing the scarecrow's request by the appearance of trot and pon, who had hidden in some bushes just over the brow of the hill and waited until old blinkie had passed them by. their hiding place was on the same side as the witch's blind eye, and she rushed on in the chase of the girl and the youth without being aware that they had tricked her. [illustration] trot was shocked at the scarecrow's sad condition and at once began putting the straw back into his body. pon, at sight of gloria, again appealed to her to take pity on him, but the frozen-hearted princess turned coldly away and with a sigh the gardener's boy began to assist trot. neither of them at first noticed the small grasshopper, which at their appearance had skipped off the scarecrow's nose and was now clinging to a wisp of grass beside the path, where he was not likely to be stepped upon. not until the scarecrow had been neatly restuffed and set upon his feet again when he bowed to his restorers and expressed his thanks did the grasshopper move from his perch. then he leaped lightly into the path and called out: "trot--trot! look at me. i'm cap'n bill! see what the wicked witch has done to me." the voice was small, to be sure, but it reached trot's ears and startled her greatly. she looked intently at the grasshopper, her eyes wide with fear at first; then she knelt down and, noticing the wooden leg, she began to weep sorrowfully. "oh, cap'n bill--dear cap'n bill! what a cruel thing to do!'' she sobbed. "don't cry, trot," begged the grasshopper. "it didn't hurt any, and it doesn't hurt now. but it's mighty inconvenient an' humiliatin', to say the least." "i wish," said the girl indignantly, while trying hard to restrain her tears, "that i was big 'nough an' strong 'nough to give that horrid witch a good beating. she ought to be turned into a toad for doing this to you, cap'n bill!" "never mind," urged the scarecrow, in a comforting voice, "such a transformation doesn't last always, and as a general thing there's some way to break the enchantment. i'm sure glinda could do it, in a jiffy." "who is glinda?" inquired cap'n bill. then the scarecrow told them all about glinda, not forgetting to mention her beauty and goodness and her wonderful powers of magic. he also explained how the royal sorceress had sent him to jinxland especially to help the strangers, whom she knew to be in danger because of the wiles of the cruel king and the wicked witch. [illustration] [illustration] chapter 16 pon summons the king to surrender gloria had drawn near to the group to listen to their talk, and it seemed to interest her in spite of her frigid manner. they knew, of course, that the poor princess could not help being cold and reserved, so they tried not to blame her. "i ought to have come here a little sooner," said the scarecrow, regretfully; "but glinda sent me as soon as she discovered you were here and were likely to get into trouble. and now that we are all together--except button-bright, over whom it is useless to worry--i propose we hold a council of war, to decide what is best to be done." that seemed a wise thing to do, so they all sat down upon the grass, including gloria, and the grasshopper perched upon trot's shoulder and allowed her to stroke him gently with her hand. "in the first place," began the scarecrow, "this king krewl is a usurper and has no right to rule this kingdom of jinxland." "that is true," said pon, eagerly. "my father was king before him, and i--" "you are a gardener's boy," interrupted the scarecrow. "your father had no right to rule, either, for the rightful king of this land was the father of princess gloria, and only she is entitled to sit upon the throne of jinxland." "good!" exclaimed trot. "but what'll we do with king krewl? i s'pose he won't give up the throne unless he has to." "no, of course not," said the scarecrow. "therefore it will be our duty to _make_ him give up the throne." "how?" asked trot. "give me time to think," was the reply. "that's what my brains are for. i don't know whether you people ever think, or not, but my brains are the best that the wizard of oz ever turned out, and if i give them plenty of time to work, the result usually surprises me." "take your time, then," suggested trot. "there's no hurry." "thank you," said the straw man, and sat perfectly still for half an hour. during this interval the grasshopper whispered in trot's ear, to which he was very close, and trot whispered back to the grasshopper sitting upon her shoulder. pon cast loving glances at gloria, who paid not the slightest heed to them. finally the scarecrow laughed aloud. "brains working?" inquired trot. "yes. they seem in fine order to-day. we will conquer king krewl and put gloria upon his throne as queen of jinxland." "fine!" cried the little girl, clapping her hands together gleefully. "but how?" "leave the _how_ to me," said the scarecrow proudly. "as a conqueror i'm a wonder. we will, first of all, write a message to send to king krewl, asking him to surrender. if he refuses, then we will make him surrender." "why ask him, when we _know_ he'll refuse?" inquired pon. "why, we must be polite, whatever we do," explained the scarecrow. "it would be very rude to conquer a king without proper notice." [illustration] they found it difficult to write a message without paper, pen and ink, none of which was at hand; so it was decided to send pon as a messenger, with instructions to ask the king, politely but firmly, to surrender. pon was not anxious to be the messenger. indeed, he hinted that it might prove a dangerous mission. but the scarecrow was now the acknowledged head of the army of conquest, and he would listen to no refusal. so off pon started for the king's castle, and the others accompanied him as far as his hut, where they had decided to await the gardener's boy's return. i think it was because pon had known the scarecrow such a short time that he lacked confidence in the straw man's wisdom. it was easy to say: "we will conquer king krewl," but when pon drew near to the great castle he began to doubt the ability of a straw-stuffed man, a girl, a grasshopper and a frozen-hearted princess to do it. as for himself, he had never thought of defying the king before. that was why the gardener's boy was not very bold when he entered the castle and passed through to the enclosed court where the king was just then seated, with his favorite courtiers around him. none prevented pon's entrance, because he was known to be the gardener's boy, but when the king saw him he began to frown fiercely. he considered pon to be to blame for all his trouble with princess gloria, who since her heart had been frozen had escaped to some unknown place, instead of returning to the castle to wed googly-goo, as she had been expected to do. so the king bared his teeth angrily as he demanded: [illustration] "what have you done with princess gloria?" "nothing, your majesty! i have done nothing at all," answered pon in a faltering voice. "she does not love me any more and even refuses to speak to me." "then why are you here, you rascal?" roared the king. pon looked first one way and then another, but saw no means of escape; so he plucked up courage. "i am here to summon your majesty to surrender." "what!" shouted the king. "surrender? surrender to whom?" pon's heart sank to his boots. "to the scarecrow," he replied. some of the courtiers began to titter, but king krewl was greatly annoyed. he sprang up and began to beat poor pon with the golden staff he carried. pon howled lustily and would have run away had not two of the soldiers held him until his majesty was exhausted with punishing the boy. then they let him go and he left the castle and returned along the road, sobbing at every step because his body was so sore and aching. "well," said the scarecrow, "did the king surrender?" "no; but he gave me a good drubbing!" sobbed poor pon. trot was very sorry for pon, but gloria did not seem affected in any way by her lover's anguish. the grasshopper leaped to the scarecrow's shoulder and asked him what he was going to do next. "conquer," was the reply. "but i will go alone, this time, for beatings cannot hurt me at all; nor can lance thrusts--or sword cuts--or arrow pricks." "why is that?" inquired trot. "because i have no nerves, such as you meat people possess. even grasshoppers have nerves, but straw doesn't; so whatever they do--except just one thing--they cannot injure me. therefore i expect to conquer king krewl with ease." "what is that one thing you excepted?" asked trot. "they will never think of it, so never mind. and now, if you will kindly excuse me for a time, i'll go over to the castle and do my conquering." "you have no weapons," pon reminded him. "true," said the scarecrow. "but if i carried weapons i might injure someone--perhaps seriously--and that would make me unhappy. i will just borrow that riding-whip, which i see in the corner of your hut, if you don't mind. it isn't exactly proper to walk with a riding-whip, but i trust you will excuse the inconsistency." pon handed him the whip and the scarecrow bowed to all the party and left the hut, proceeding leisurely along the way to the king's castle. [illustration] [illustration] chapter 17 the ork rescues button-bright i must now tell you what had become of button-bright since he wandered away in the morning and got lost. this small boy, as perhaps you have discovered, was almost as destitute of nerves as the scarecrow. nothing ever astonished him much; nothing ever worried him or made him unhappy. good fortune or bad fortune he accepted with a quiet smile, never complaining, whatever happened. this was one reason why button-bright was a favorite with all who knew him--and perhaps it was the reason why he so often got into difficulties, or found himself lost. to-day, as he wandered here and there, over hill and down dale, he missed trot and cap'n bill, of whom he was fond, but nevertheless he was not unhappy. the birds sang merrily and the wildflowers were beautiful and the breeze had a fragrance of new-mown hay. "the only bad thing about this country is its king," he reflected; "but the country isn't to blame for that." a prairie-dog stuck its round head out of a mound of earth and looked at the boy with bright eyes. "walk around my house, please," it said, "and then you won't harm it or disturb the babies." "all right," answered button-bright, and took care not to step on the mound. he went on, whistling merrily, until a petulant voice cried: "oh, stop it! please stop that noise. it gets on my nerves." button-bright saw an old gray owl sitting in the crotch of a tree, and he replied with a laugh: "all right, old fussy," and stopped whistling until he had passed out of the owl's hearing. at noon he came to a farmhouse where an aged couple lived. they gave him a good dinner and treated him kindly, but the man was deaf and the woman was dumb, so they could answer no questions to guide him on the way to port's house. when he left them he was just as much lost as he had been before. every grove of trees he saw from a distance he visited, for he remembered that the king's castle was near a grove of trees and pon's hut was near the king's castle; but always he met with disappointment. finally, passing through one of these groves, he came out into the open and found himself face to face with the ork. "hello!" said button-bright. "where did _you_ come from?" [illustration] "from orkland," was the reply. "i've found my own country, at last, and it is not far from here, either. i would have come back to you sooner, to see how you are getting along, had not my family and friends welcomed my return so royally that a great celebration was held in my honor. so i couldn't very well leave orkland again until the excitement was over." "can you find your way back home again?" asked the boy. "yes, easily; for now i know exactly where it is. but where are trot and cap'n bill?" button-bright related to the ork their adventures since it had left them in jinxland, telling of trot's fear that the king had done something wicked to cap'n bill, and of pon's love for gloria, and how trot and button-bright had been turned out of the king's castle. that was all the news that the boy had, but it made the ork anxious for the safety of his friends. "we must go to them at once, for they may need us," he said. "i don't know where to go," confessed button-bright. "i'm lost." "well, i can take you back to the hut of the gardener's boy," promised the ork, "for when i fly high in the air i can look down and easily spy the king's castle. that was how i happened to spy you, just entering the grove; so i flew down and waited until you came out." "how can you carry me?" asked the boy. "you'll have to sit straddle my shoulders and put your arms around my neck. do you think you can keep from falling off?" "til try," said button-bright. so the ork squatted down and the boy took his seat and held on tight. then the skinny creature's tail began whirling and up they went, far above all the tree-tops. after the ork had circled around once or twice, its sharp eyes located the towers of the castle and away it flew, straight toward the place. as it hovered in the air, near by the castle, button-bright pointed out pon's hut, so they landed just before it and trot came running out to greet them. gloria was introduced to the ork, who was surprised to find cap'n bill transformed into a grasshopper. "how do you like it?" asked the creature. "why, it worries me a good deal," answered cap'n bill, perched upon trot's shoulder. "i'm always afraid o' bein' stepped on, and i don't like the flavor of grass an' can't seem to get used to it. it's my nature to eat grass, you know, but i begin to suspect it's an acquired taste." "can you give molasses?" asked the ork. "i guess i'm not that kind of a grasshopper," replied cap'n bill. "but i can't say what i might do if i was squeezed--which i hope i won't be." "well," said the ork, "it's a great pity, and i'd like to meet that cruel king and his wicked witch and punish them both severely. you're awfully small, cap'n bill, but i think i would recognize you anywhere by your wooden leg." then the ork and button-bright were told all about gloria's frozen heart and how the scarecrow had come from the land of oz to help them. the ork seemed rather disturbed when it learned that the scarecrow had gone alone to conquer king krewl. "i'm afraid he'll make a fizzle of it," said the skinny creature, "and there's no telling what that terrible king might do to the poor scarecrow, who seems like a very interesting person. so i believe i'll take a hand in this conquest myself." "how?" asked trot. "wait and see," was the reply. "but, first of all, i must fly home again--back to my own country--so if you'll forgive my leaving you so soon, i'll be off at once. stand away from my tail, please, so that the wind from it, when it revolves, won't knock you over." they gave the creature plenty of room and away it went like a flash and soon disappeared in the sky. "i wonder," said button-bright, looking solemnly after the ork, "whether he'll ever come back again." "of course he will!" returned trot. "the ork's a pretty good fellow, and we can depend on him. an' mark my words, button-bright, whenever our ork does come back, there's one cruel king in jinxland that'll wish he hadn't." [illustration] [illustration] chapter 18 the scarecrow meets an enemy the scarecrow was not a bit afraid of king krewl. indeed, he rather enjoyed the prospect of conquering the evil king and putting gloria on the throne of jinxland in his place. so he advanced boldly to the royal castle and demanded admittance. seeing that he was a stranger, the soldiers allowed him to enter. he made his way straight to the throne room, where at that time his majesty was settling the disputes among his subjects. "who are you?" demanded the king. "i'm the scarecrow of oz, and i command you to surrender yourself my prisoner." [illustration] "why should i do that?" inquired the king, much astonished at the straw man's audacity. "because i've decided you are too cruel a king to rule so beautiful a country. you must remember that jinxland is a part of oz, and therefore you owe allegiance to ozma of oz, whose friend and servant i am." now, when he heard this, king krewl was much disturbed in mind, for he knew the scarecrow spoke the truth. but no one had ever before come to jinxland from the land of oz and the king did not intend to be put out of his throne if he could help it. therefore he gave a harsh, wicked laugh of derision and said: "i'm busy, now. stand out of my way, scarecrow, and i'll talk with you by and by." but the scarecrow turned to the assembled courtiers and people and called in a loud voice: "i hereby declare, in the name of ozma of oz, that this man is no longer ruler of jinxland. from this moment princess gloria is your rightful queen, and i ask all of you to be loyal to her and to obey her commands." the people looked fearfully at the king, whom they all hated in their hearts, but likewise feared. krewl was now in a terrible rage and he raised his golden sceptre and struck the scarecrow so heavy a blow that he fell to the floor. but he was up again, in an instant, and with pon's riding-whip he switched the king so hard that the wicked monarch roared with pain as much as with rage, calling on his soldiers to capture the scarecrow. they tried to do that, and thrust their lances and swords into the straw body, but without doing any damage except to make holes in the scarecrow's clothes. however, they were many against one and finally old googly-goo brought a rope which he wound around the scarecrow, binding his legs together and his arms to his sides, and after that the fight was over. the king stormed and danced around in a dreadful fury, for he had never been so switched since he was a boy--and perhaps not then. he ordered the scarecrow thrust into the castle prison, which was no task at all because one man could carry him easily, bound as he was. even after the prisoner was removed the king could not control his anger. he tried to figure out some way to be revenged upon the straw man, but could think of nothing that could hurt him. at last, when the terrified people and the frightened courtiers had all slunk away, old googly-goo approached the king with a malicious grin upon his face. "i'll tell you what to do," said he. "build a big bonfire and burn the scarecrow up, and that will be the end of him." the king was so delighted with this suggestion that he hugged old googly-goo in his joy. "of course!" he cried. "the very thing. why did i not think of it my self?" so he summoned his soldiers and retainers and bade them prepare a great bonfire in an open space in the castle park. also he sent word to all his people to assemble and witness the destruction of the scarecrow who had dared to defy his power. before long a vast throng gathered in the park and the servants had heaped up enough fuel to make a fire that might be seen for miles away--even in the daytime. when all was prepared, the king had his throne brought out for him to sit upon and enjoy the spectacle, and then he sent his soldiers to fetch the scarecrow. [illustration] now the one thing in all the world that the straw man really feared was fire. he knew he would burn very easily and that his ashes wouldn't amount to much afterward. it wouldn't hurt him to be destroyed in such a manner, but he realized that many people in the land of oz, and especially dorothy and the royal ozma, would feel sad if they learned that their old friend the scarecrow was no longer in existence. in spite of this, the straw man was brave and faced his fiery fate like a hero. when they marched him out before the concourse of people he turned to the king with great calmness and said: "this wicked deed will cost you your throne, as well as much suffering, for my friends will avenge my destruction." "your friends are not here, nor will they know what i have done to you, when you are gone and cannot tell them," answered the king in a scornful voice. then he ordered the scarecrow bound to a stout stake that he had had driven into the ground, and the materials for the fire were heaped all around him. when this had been done, the king's brass band struck up a lively tune and old googly-goo came forward with a lighted match and set fire to the pile. [illustration] at once the flames shot up and crept closer and closer toward the scarecrow. the king and all his people were so intent upon this terrible spectacle that none of them noticed how the sky grew suddenly dark. perhaps they thought that the loud buzzing sound--like the noise of a dozen moving railway trains--came from the blazing fagots; that the rush of wind was merely a breeze. but suddenly down swept a flock of orks, half a hundred of them at the least, and the powerful currents of air caused by their revolving tails sent the bonfire scattering in every direction, so that not one burning brand ever touched the scarecrow. but that was not the only effect of this sudden tornado. king krewl was blown out of his throne and went tumbling heels over head until he landed with a bump against the stone wall of his own castle, and before he could rise a big ork sat upon him and held him pressed flat to the ground. old googly-goo shot up into the air like a rocket and landed on a tree, where he hung by the middle on a high limb, kicking the air with his feet and clawing the air with his hands, and howling for mercy like the coward he was. the people pressed back until they were jammed close together, while all the soldiers were knocked over and sent sprawling to the earth. the excitement was great for a few minutes, and every frightened inhabitant of jinxland looked with awe and amazement at the great orks whose descent had served to rescue the scarecrow and conquer king krewl at one and the same time. the ork, who was the leader of the band, soon had the scarecrow free of his bonds. then he said: "well, we were just in time to save you, which is better than being a minute too late. you are now the master here, and we are determined to see your orders obeyed." with this the ork picked up krewl's golden crown, which had fallen off his head, and placed it upon the head of the scarecrow, who in his awkward way then shuffled over to the throne and sat down in it. seeing this, a rousing cheer broke from the crowd of people, who tossed their hats and waved their handkerchiefs and hailed the scarecrow as their king. the soldiers joined the people in the cheering, for now they fully realized that their hated master was conquered and it would be wise to show their good will to the conqueror. some of them bound krewl with ropes and dragged him forward, dumping his body on the ground before the scarecrow's throne. googly-goo struggled until he finally slid off the limb of the tree and came tumbling to the ground. he then tried to sneak away and escape, but the soldiers seized and bound him beside krewl. "the tables are turned," said the scarecrow, swelling out his chest until the straw within it crackled pleasantly, for he was highly pleased; "but it was you and your people who did it, friend ork, and from this time you may count me your humble servant." [illustration] [illustration] chapter 19 the conquest of the witch now as soon as the conquest of king krewl had taken place, one of the orks had been dispatched to pon's house with the joyful news. at once gloria and pon and trot and button-bright hastened toward the castle. they were somewhat surprised by the sight that met their eyes, for there was the scarecrow, crowned king, and all the people kneeling humbly before him. so they likewise bowed low to the new ruler and then stood beside the throne. cap'n bill, as the gray grasshopper, was still perched upon trot's shoulder, but now he hopped to the shoulder of the scarecrow and whispered into the painted ear: "i thought gloria was to be queen of jinxland." the scarecrow shook his head. "not yet," he answered. "no queen with a frozen heart is fit to rule any country." then he turned to his new friend, the ork, who was strutting about, very proud of what he had done, and said: "do you suppose you, or your followers, could find old blinkie the witch?" "where is she?" asked the ork. "somewhere in jinxland, i'm sure." "then," said the ork, "we shall certainly be able to find her." "it will give me great pleasure," declared the scarecrow. "when you have found her, bring her here to me, and i will then decide what to do with her." the ork called his followers together and spoke a few words to them in a low tone. a moment after they rose into the air--so suddenly that the scarecrow, who was very light in weight, was blown quite out of his throne and into the arms of pon, who replaced him carefully upon his seat. there was an eddy of dust and ashes, too, and the grasshopper only saved himself from being whirled into the crowd of people by jumping into a tree, from where a series of hops soon brought him back to trot's shoulder again. the orks were quite out of sight by this time, so the scarecrow made a speech to the people and presented gloria to them, whom they knew well already and were fond of. but not all of them knew of her frozen heart, and when the scarecrow related the story of the wicked witch's misdeeds, which had been encouraged and paid for by krewl and googly-goo, the people were very indignant. meantime the fifty orks had scattered all over jinxland, which is not a very big country, and their sharp eyes were peering into every valley and grove and gully. finally one of them spied a pair of heels sticking out from underneath some bushes, and with a shrill whistle to warn his comrades that the witch was found the ork flew down and dragged old blinkie from her hiding-place. then two or three of the orks seized the clothing of the wicked woman in their strong claws and, lifting her high in the air, where she struggled and screamed to no avail, they flew with her straight to the royal castle and set her down before the throne of the scarecrow. [illustration] [illustration] "good!" exclaimed the straw man, nodding his stuffed head with satisfaction. "now we can proceed to business. mistress witch, i am obliged to request, gently but firmly, that you undo all the wrongs you have done by means of your witchcraft." "pah!" cried old blinkie in a scornful voice. "i defy you all! by my magic powers i can turn you all into pigs, rooting in the mud, and i'll do it if you are not careful." "i think you are mistaken about that," said the scarecrow, and rising from his throne he walked with wobbling steps to the side of the wicked witch. "before i left the land of oz, glinda the royal sorceress gave me a box, which i was not to open except in an emergency. but i feel pretty sure that this occasion is an emergency; don't you, trot?' he asked, turning toward the little girl. "why, we've got to do _something_," replied trot seriously. "things seem in an awful muddle here, jus' now, and they'll be worse if we don't stop this witch from doing more harm to people." "that is my idea, exactly," said the scarecrow, and taking a small box from his pocket he opened the cover and tossed the contents toward blinkie. the old woman shrank back, pale and trembling, as a fine white dust settled all about her. under its influence she seemed to the eyes of all observers to shrivel and grow smaller. "oh, dear--oh, dear!" she wailed, wringing her hands in fear. "haven't you the antidote, scarecrow? didn't the great sorceress give you another box?" "she did," answered the scarecrow. "then give it me--quick!" pleaded the witch. "give it me--and i'll do anything you ask me to!" "you will do what i ask first," declared the scarecrow, firmly. the witch was shriveling and growing smaller every moment. "be quick, then!" she cried. "tell me what i must do and let me do it, or it will be too late." "you made trot's friend, cap'n bill, a grasshopper. i command you to give him back his proper form again," said the scarecrow. "where is he? where's the grasshopper? quick--quick!" she screamed. cap'n bill, who had been deeply interested in this conversation, gave a great leap from trot's shoulder and landed on that of the scarecrow. blinkie saw him alight and at once began to make magic passes and to mumble magic incantations. she was in a desperate hurry, knowing that she had no time to waste, and the grasshopper was so suddenly transformed into the old sailor-man, cap'n bill, that he had no opportunity to jump off the scarecrow's shoulder; so his great weight bore the stuffed scarecrow to the ground. no harm was done, however, and the straw man got up and brushed the dust from his clothes while trot delightedly embraced cap'n bill. "the other box! quick! give me the other box," begged blinkie, who had now shrunk to half her former size. "not yet," said the scarecrow. "you must first melt princess gloria's frozen heart." "i can't; it's an awful job to do that! i can't," asserted the witch, in an agony of fear--for still she was growing smaller. "you must!" declared the scarecrow, firmly. the witch cast a shrewd look at him and saw that he meant it; so she began dancing around gloria in a frantic manner. the princess looked coldly on, as if not at all interested in the proceedings, while blinkie tore a handful of hair from her own head and ripped a strip of cloth from the bottom of her gown. then the witch sank upon her knees, took a purple powder from her black bag and sprinkled it over the hair and cloth. "i hate to do it--i hate to do it!" she wailed, "for there is no more of this magic compound in all the world. but i must sacrifice it to save my own life. a match! give me a match, quick!" and panting from lack of breath she gazed imploringly from one to another. [illustration] cap'n bill was the only one who had a match, but he lost no time in handing it to blinkie, who quickly set fire to the hair and the cloth and the purple powder. at once a purple cloud enveloped gloria, and this gradually turned to a rosy pink color--brilliant and quite transparent. through the rosy cloud they could all see the beautiful princess, standing proud and erect. then her heart became visible, at first frosted with ice but slowly growing brighter and warmer until all the frost had disappeared and it was beating as softly and regularly as any other heart. and now the cloud dispersed and disclosed gloria, her face suffused with joy, smiling tenderly upon the friends who were grouped about her. poor pon stepped forward--timidly, fearing a repulse, but with pleading eyes and arms fondly outstretched toward his former sweetheart--and the princess saw him and her sweet face lighted with a radiant smile. without an instant's hesitation she threw herself into pon's arms and this reunion of two loving hearts was so affecting that the people turned away and lowered their eyes so as not to mar the sacred joy of the faithful lovers. but blinkie's small voice was shouting to the scarecrow for help. "the antidote!" she screamed. "give me the other box--quick!" the scarecrow looked at the witch with his quaint, painted eyes and saw that she was now no taller than his knee. so he took from his pocket the second box and scattered its contents on blinkie. she ceased to grow any smaller, but she could never regain her former size, and this the wicked old woman well knew. [illustration] she did not know, however, that the second powder had destroyed all her power to work magic, and seeking to be revenged upon the scarecrow and his friends she at once began to mumble a charm so terrible in its effect that it would have destroyed half the population of jinxland--had it worked. but it did not work at all, to the amazement of old blinkie. and by this time the scarecrow noticed what the little witch was trying to do, and said to her: "go home, blinkie, and behave yourself. you are no longer a witch, but an ordinary old woman, and since you are powerless to do more evil i advise you to try to do some good in the world. believe me, it is more fun to accomplish a good act than an evil one, as you will discover when once you have tried it." but blinkie was at that moment filled with grief and chagrin at losing her magic powers. she started away toward her home, sobbing and bewailing her fate, and not one who saw her go was at all sorry for her. [illustration] chapter 20 queen gloria next morning the scarecrow called upon all the courtiers and the people to assemble in the throne room of the castle, where there was room enough for all that were able to attend. they found the straw man seated upon the velvet cushions of the throne, with the king's glittering crown still upon his stuffed head. on one side of the throne, in a lower chair, sat gloria, looking radiantly beautiful and fresh as a new-blown rose. on the other side sat pon, the gardener's boy, still dressed in his old smock frock and looking sad and solemn; for pon could not make himself believe that so splendid a princess would condescend to love him when she had come to her own and was seated upon a throne. trot and cap'n bill sat at the feet of the scarecrow and were much interested in the proceedings. button-bright had lost himself before breakfast, but came into the throne room before the ceremonies were over. back of the throne stood a row of the great orks, with their leader in the center, and the entrance to the palace was guarded by more orks, who were regarded with wonder and awe. when all were assembled, the scarecrow stood up and made a speech. he told how gloria's father, the good king kynd, who had once ruled them and been loved by everyone, had been destroyed by king phearse, the father of pon, and how king phearse had been destroyed by king krewl. this last king had been a bad ruler, as they knew very well, and the scarecrow declared that the only one in all jinxland who had the right to sit upon the throne was princess gloria, the daughter of king kynd. "but," he added, "it is not for me, a stranger, to say who shall rule you. you must decide for yourselves, or you will not be content. so choose now who shall be your future ruler." and they all shouted: "the scarecrow! the scarecrow shall rule us!" which proved that the stuffed man had made himself very popular by his conquest of king krewl, and the people thought they would like him for their king. but the scarecrow shook his head so vigorously that it became loose, and trot had to pin it firmly to his body again. "no," said he, "i belong in the land of oz, where i am the humble servant of the lovely girl who rules us all the royal ozma. you must choose one of your own inhabitants to rule over jinxland. who shall it be?" they hesitated for a moment, and some few cried: "pon!" but many more shouted: "gloria!" so the scarecrow took gloria's hand and led her to the throne, where he first seated her and then took the glittering crown off his own head and placed it upon that of the young lady, where it nestled prettily amongst her soft curls. the people cheered and shouted then, kneeling before their new queen; but gloria leaned down and took pon's hand in both her own and raised him to the seat beside her. "you shall have both a king and a queen to care for you and to protect you, my dear subjects," she said in a sweet voice, while her face glowed with happiness; "for pon was a king's son before he became a gardener's boy, and because i love him he is to be my royal consort." that pleased them all, especially pon, who realized that this was the most important moment of his life. trot and button-bright and cap'n bill all congratulated him on winning the beautiful gloria; but the ork sneezed twice and said that in his opinion the young lady might have done better. then the scarecrow ordered the guards to bring in the wicked krewl, king no longer, and when he appeared, loaded with chains and dressed in fustian, the people hissed him and drew back as he passed so their garments would not touch him. krewl was not haughty or overbearing any more; on the contrary he seemed very meek and in great fear of the fate his conquerors had in store for him. but gloria and pon were too happy to be revengeful and so they offered to appoint krewl to the position of gardener's boy at the castle, pon having resigned to become king. but they said he must promise to reform his wicked ways and to do his duty faithfully, and he must change his name from krewl to grewl. all this the man eagerly promised to do, and so when pon retired to a room in the castle to put on princely raiment, the old brown smock he had formerly worn was given to grewl, who then went out into the garden to water the roses. [illustration] the remainder of that famous day, which was long remembered in jinxland, was given over to feasting and merrymaking. in the evening there was a grand dance in the courtyard, where the brass band played a new piece of music called the "ork trot" which was dedicated to "our glorious gloria, the queen." while the queen and pon were leading this dance, and all the jinxland people were having a good time, the strangers were gathered in a group in the park outside the castle. cap'n bill, trot, button-bright and the scarecrow were there, and so was their old friend the ork; but of all the great flock of orks which had assisted in the conquest but three remained in jinxland, besides their leader, the others having returned to their own country as soon as gloria was crowned queen. to the young ork who had accompanied them in their adventures cap'n bill said: "you've surely been a friend in need, and we're mighty grateful to you for helping us. i might have been a grasshopper yet if it hadn't been for you, an' i might remark that bein' a grasshopper isn't much fun." "if it hadn't been for you, friend ork," said the scarecrow, "i fear i could not have conquered king krewl." "no," agreed trot, "you'd have been just a heap of ashes by this time." "and i might have been lost yet," added button-bright. "much obliged, mr. ork." "oh, that's all right," replied the ork. "friends must stand together, you know, or they wouldn't be friends. but now i must leave you and be off to my own country, where there's going to be a surprise party on my uncle, and i've promised to attend it." "dear me," said the scarecrow, regretfully. "that is very unfortunate." "why so?" asked the ork. "i hoped you would consent to carry us over those mountains, into the land of oz. my mission here is now finished and i want to get back to the emerald city." "how did you cross the mountains before?" inquired the ork. "i scaled the cliffs by means of a rope, and crossed the great gulf on a strand of spider web. of course i can return in the same manner, but it would be a hard journey and perhaps an impossible one for trot and button-bright and cap'n bill. so i thought that if you had the time you and your people would carry us over the mountains and land us all safely on the other side, in the land of oz." the ork thoughtfully considered the matter for a while. then he said: "i mustn't break my promise to be present at the surprise party; but, tell me, could you go to oz to-night?" "what, now?" exclaimed trot. "it is a fine moonlight night," said the ork, "and i've found in my experience that there's no time so good as right away. the fact is," he explained, "it's a long journey to orkland and i and my cousins here are all rather tired by our day's work. but if you will start now, and be content to allow us to carry you over the mountains and dump you on the other side, just say the word and--off we go!" cap'n bill and trot looked at one another questioningly. the little girl was eager to visit the famous fairyland of oz and the old sailor had endured such hardships in jinxland that he would be glad to be out of it. "it's rather impolite of us not to say good-bye to the new king and queen," remarked the scarecrow, "but i'm sure they're too happy to miss us, and i assure you it will be much easier to fly on the backs of the orks over those steep mountains than to climb them as i did." "all right; let's go!" trot decided. "but where's button-bright?" just at this important moment button-bright was lost again, and they all scattered in search of him. he had been standing beside them just a few minutes before, but his friends had an exciting hunt for him before they finally discovered the boy seated among the members of the band, beating the end of the bass drum with the bone of a turkey-leg that he had taken from the table in the banquet room. "hello, trot," he said, looking up at the little girl when she found him. "this is the first chance i ever had to pound a drum with a regular drum stick. and i ate all the meat off the bone myself." "come quick. we're going to the land of oz." "oh, what's the hurry?" said button-bright; but she seized his arm and dragged him away to the park, where the others were waiting. trot climbed upon the back of her old friend, the ork leader, and the others took their seats on the backs of his three cousins. as soon as all were placed and clinging to the skinny necks of the creatures, the revolving tails began to whirl and up rose the four monster orks and sailed away toward the mountains. they were so high in the air that when they passed the crest of the highest peak it seemed far below them. no sooner were they well across the barrier than the orks swooped downward and landed their passengers upon the ground. "here we are, safe in the land of oz!' cried the scarecrow joyfully. "oh, are we?" asked trot, looking around her curiously. she could see the shadows of stately trees and the outlines of rolling hills; beneath her feet was soft turf, but otherwise the subdued light of the moon disclosed nothing clearly. "seems jus' like any other country," was cap'n bill's comment. [illustration] "but it isn't," the scarecrow assured him. "you are now within the borders of the most glorious fairyland in all the world. this part of it is just a corner of the quadling country, and the least interesting portion of it. it's not very thickly settled, around here, i'll admit, but--" he was interrupted by a sudden whir and a rush of air as the four orks mounted into the sky. "good night!" called the shrill voices of the strange creatures, and although trot shouted "good night!" as loudly as she could, the little girl was almost ready to cry because the orks had not waited to be properly thanked for all their kindness to her and to cap'n bill. but the orks were gone, and thanks for good deeds do not amount to much except to prove one's politeness. "well, friends," said the scarecrow, "we mustn't stay here in the meadows all night, so let us find a pleasant place to sleep. not that it matters to me, in the least, for i never sleep; but i know that meat people like to shut their eyes and lie still during the dark hours." "i'm pretty tired," admitted trot, yawning as she followed the straw man along a tiny path, "so, if you don't find a house handy, cap'n bill and i will sleep under the trees, or even on this soft grass." but a house was not very far off, although when the scarecrow stumbled upon it there was no light in it whatever. cap'n bill knocked on the door several times, and there being no response the scarecrow boldly lifted the latch and walked in, followed by the others. and no sooner had they entered than a soft light filled the room. trot couldn't tell where it came from, for no lamp of any sort was visible, but she did not waste much time on this problem, because directly in the center of the room stood a table set for three, with lots of good food on it and several of the dishes smoking hot. [illustration] the little girl and button-bright both uttered exclamations of pleasure, but they looked in vain for any cook stove or fireplace, or for any person who might have prepared for them this delicious feast. "it's fairyland," muttered the boy, tossing his cap in a corner and seating himself at the table. "this supper smells 'most as good as that turkey-leg i had in jinxland. please pass the muffins, cap'n bill." trot thought it was strange that no people but themselves were in the house, but on the wall opposite the door was a gold frame bearing in big letters the word: "welcome." so she had no further hesitation in eating of the food so mysteriously prepared for them. "but there are only places for three!' she exclaimed. "three are quite enough," said the scarecrow. "i never eat, because i am stuffed full already, and i like my nice clean straw better than i do food." trot and the sailor-man were hungry and made a hearty meal, for not since they had left home had they tasted such good food. it was surprising that button-bright could eat so soon after his feast in jinxland, but the boy always ate whenever there was an opportunity. "if i don't eat now," he said, "the next time i'm hungry i'll wish i had." "really, cap'n," remarked trot, when she found a dish of ice-cream appear beside her plate, "i b'lieve this is fairyland, sure enough." "there's no doubt of it, trot," he answered gravely. "i've been here before," said button-bright, "so i know." after supper they discovered three tiny bedrooms adjoining the big living room of the house, and in each room was a comfortable white bed with downy pillows. you may be sure that the tired mortals were not long in bidding the scarecrow good night and creeping into their beds, where they slept soundly until morning. for the first time since they set eyes on the terrible whirlpool, trot and cap'n bill were free from anxiety and care. button-bright never worried about anything. the scarecrow, not being able to sleep, looked out of the window and tried to count the stars. [illustration] chapter 21 dorothy, betsy and ozma i suppose many of my readers have read descriptions of the beautiful and magnificent emerald city of oz, so i need not describe it here, except to state that never has any city in any fairyland ever equalled this one in stately splendor. it lies almost exactly in the center of the land of oz, and in the center of the emerald city rises the wall of glistening emeralds that surrounds the palace of ozma. the palace is almost a city in itself and is inhabited by many of the ruler's especial friends and those who have won her confidence and favor. as for ozma herself, there are no words in any dictionary i can find that are fitted to describe this young girl's beauty of mind and person. merely to see her is to love her for her charming face and manners; to know her is to love her for her tender sympathy, her generous nature, her truth and honor. born of a long line of fairy queens, ozma is as nearly perfect as any fairy may be, and she is noted for her wisdom as well as for her other qualities. her happy subjects adore their girl ruler and each one considers her a comrade and protector. at the time of which i write, ozma's best friend and most constant companion was a little kansas girl named dorothy, a mortal who had come to the land of oz in a very curious manner and had been offered a home in ozma's palace. furthermore, dorothy had been made a princess of oz, and was as much at home in the royal palace as was the gentle ruler. she knew almost every part of the great country and almost all of its numerous inhabitants. next to ozma she was loved better than anyone in all oz, for dorothy was simple and sweet, seldom became angry and had such a friendly, chummy way that she made friends wherever she wandered. it was she who first brought the scarecrow and the tin woodman and the cowardly lion to the emerald city. dorothy had also introduced to ozma the shaggy man and the hungry tiger, as well as billina the yellow hen, eureka the pink kitten, and many other delightful characters and creatures. coming as she did from our world, dorothy was much like many other girls we know; so there were times when she was not so wise as she might have been, and other times when she was obstinate and got herself into trouble. but life in a fairyland had taught the little girl to accept all sorts of surprising things as matters-of-course, for while dorothy was no fairy--but just as mortal as we are--she had seen more wonders than most mortals ever do. another little girl from our outside world also lived in ozma's palace. this was betsy bobbin, whose strange adventures had brought her to the emerald city, where ozma had cordially welcomed her. betsy was a shy little thing and could never get used to the marvels that surrounded her, but she and dorothy were firm friends and thought themselves very fortunate in being together in this delightful country. one day dorothy and betsy were visiting ozma in the girl ruler's private apartment, and among the things that especially interested them was ozma's magic picture, set in a handsome frame and hung upon the wall of the room. this picture was a magic one because it constantly changed its scenes and showed events and adventures happening in all parts of the world. thus it was really a "moving picture" of life, and if the one who stood before it wished to know what any absent person was doing, the picture instantly showed that person, with his or her surroundings. the two girls were not wishing to see anyone in particular, on this occasion, but merely enjoyed watching the shifting scenes, some of which were exceedingly curious and remarkable. suddenly dorothy exclaimed: "why, there's button-bright!" and this drew ozma also to look at the picture, for she and dorothy knew the boy well. "who is button-bright?" asked betsy, who had never met him. "why, he's the little boy who is just getting off the back of that strange flying creature," exclaimed dorothy. then she turned to ozma and asked: "what is that thing, ozma? a bird? i've never seen anything like it before." [illustration] "it is an ork," answered ozma, for they were watching the scene where the ork and the three big birds were first landing their passengers in jinxland, after the long flight across the desert. "i wonder," added the girl ruler, musingly, "why those strangers dare venture into that unfortunate country, which is ruled by a wicked king." "that girl, and the one-legged man, seem to be mortals from the outside world," said dorothy. "the man isn't one-legged," corrected betsy; "he has one wooden leg." "it's almost as bad," declared dorothy, watching cap'n bill stump around. "they are three mortal adventurers," said ozma, "and they seem worthy and honest. but i fear they will be treated badly in jinxland, and if they meet with any misfortune there it will reflect upon me, for jinxland is a part of my dominions." "can't we help them in any way?" inquired dorothy. "that seems like a nice little girl. i'd be sorry if anything happened to her." "let us watch the picture for awhile," suggested ozma, and so they all drew chairs before the magic picture and followed the adventures of trot and cap'n bill and button-bright. presently the scene shifted and showed their friend the scarecrow crossing the mountains into jinxland, and that somewhat relieved ozma's anxiety, for she knew at once that glinda the good had sent the scarecrow to protect the strangers. the adventures in jinxland proved very interesting to the three girls in ozma's palace, who during the succeeding days spent much of their time in watching the picture. it was like a story to them. [illustration: dorothy] "that girl's a reg'lar trump!' exclaimed dorothy, referring to trot, and ozma answered: "she's a dear little thing, and i'm sure nothing very bad will happen to her. the old sailor is a fine character, too, for he has never once grumbled over being a grasshopper, as so many would have done." when the scarecrow was so nearly burned up the girls all shivered a little, and they clapped their hands in joy when the flock of orks came and saved him. so it was that when all the exciting adventures in jinxland were over and the four orks had begun their flight across the mountains to carry the mortals into the land of oz, ozma called the wizard to her and asked him to prepare a place for the strangers to sleep. the famous wizard of oz was a quaint little man who inhabited the royal palace and attended to all the magical things that ozma wanted done. he was not as powerful as glinda, to be sure, but he could do a great many wonderful things. he proved this by placing a house in the uninhabited part of the quadling country where the orks landed cap'n bill and trot and button-bright, and fitting it with all the comforts i have described in the last chapter. next morning dorothy said to ozma: "oughtn't we to go meet the strangers, so we can show them the way to the emerald city? i'm sure that little girl will feel shy in this beautiful land, and i know if 'twas me i'd like somebody to give me a welcome." ozma smiled at her little friend and answered: "you and betsy may go to meet them, if you wish, but i can not leave my palace just now, as i am to have a conference with jack pumpkinhead and professor wogglebug on important matters. you may take the sawhorse and the red wagon, and if you start soon you will be able to meet the scarecrow and the strangers at glinda's palace." "oh, thank you!" cried dorothy, and went away to tell betsy and to make preparations for the journey. [illustration: betsy] [illustration] chapter 22 the waterfall glinda's castle was a long way from the mountains, but the scarecrow began the journey cheerfully, since time was of no great importance in the land of oz and he had recently made the trip and knew the way. it never mattered much to button-bright where he was or what he was doing; the boy was content in being alive and having good companions to share his wanderings. as for trot and cap'n bill, they now found themselves so comfortable and free from danger, in this fine fairyland, and they were so awed and amazed by the adventures they were encountering, that the journey to glinda's castle was more like a pleasure trip than a hardship, so many wonderful things were there to see. button-bright had been in oz before, but never in this part of it, so the scarecrow was the only one who knew the paths and could lead them. they had eaten a hearty breakfast, which they found already prepared for them and awaiting them on the table when they arose from their refreshing sleep, so they left the magic house in a contented mood and with hearts lighter and more happy than they had known for many a day. as they marched along through the fields, the sun shone brightly and the breeze was laden with delicious fragrance, for it carried with it the breath of millions of wildflowers. at noon, when they stopped to rest by the banks of a pretty river, trot said with a long-drawn breath that was much like a sigh: "i wish we'd brought with us some of the food that was left from our breakfast, for i'm getting hungry again." scarcely had she spoken when a table rose up before them, as if from the ground itself, and it was loaded with fruits and nuts and cakes and many other good things to eat. the little girl's eyes opened wide at this display of magic, and cap'n bill was not sure that the things were actually there and fit to eat until he had taken them in his hand and tasted them. but the scarecrow said with a laugh: "someone is looking after your welfare, that is certain, and from the looks of this table i suspect my friend the wizard has taken us in his charge. i've known him to do things like this before, and if we are in the wizard's care you need not worry about your future." "who's worrying?" inquired button-bright, already at the table and busily eating. the scarecrow looked around the place while the others were feasting, and finding many things unfamiliar to him he shook his head and remarked: "i must have taken the wrong path, back in that last valley, for on my way to jinxland i remember that i passed around the foot of this river, where there was a great waterfall." "did the river make a bend, after the waterfall?" asked cap'n bill. "no, the river disappeared. only a pool of whirling water showed what had become of the river; but i suppose it is under ground, somewhere, and will come to the surface again in another part of the country." "well," suggested trot, as she finished her luncheon, "as there is no way to cross this river, i s'pose we'll have to find that waterfall, and go around it." "exactly," replied the scarecrow; so they soon renewed their journey, following the river for a long time until the roar of the waterfall sounded in their ears. by and by they came to the waterfall itself, a sheet of silver dropping far, far down into a tiny lake which seemed to have no outlet. from the top of the fall, where they stood, the banks gradually sloped away, so that the descent by land was quite easy, while the river could do nothing but glide over an edge of rock and tumble straight down to the depths below. "you see," said the scarecrow, leaning over the brink, "this is called by our oz people the great waterfall, because it is certainly the highest one in all the land; but i think--help!" [illustration] he had lost his balance and pitched headforemost into the river. they saw a flash of straw and blue clothes, and the painted face looking upward in surprise. the next moment the scarecrow was swept over the waterfall and plunged into the basin below. the accident had happened so suddenly that for a moment they were all too horrified to speak or move. "quick! we must go to help him or he will be drowned," trot exclaimed. even while speaking she began to descend the bank to the pool below, and cap'n bill followed as swiftly as his wooden leg would let him. button-bright came more slowly, calling to the girl: "he can't drown, trot; he's a scarecrow." but she wasn't sure a scarecrow couldn't drown and never relaxed her speed until she stood on the edge of the pool, with the spray dashing in her face. cap'n bill, puffing and panting, had just voice enough to ask, as he reached her side: "see him, trot?" "not a speck of him. oh, cap'n, what do you s'pose has become of him?" "i s'pose," replied the sailor, "that he's in that water, more or less far down, and i'm 'fraid it'll make his straw pretty soggy. but as fer his bein' drowned, i agree with button-bright that it can't be done." [illustration] there was small comfort in this assurance and trot stood for some time searching with her eyes the bubbling water, in the hope that the scarecrow would finally come to the surface. presently she heard button-bright calling: "come here, trot!" and looking around she saw that the boy had crept over the wet rocks to the edge of the waterfall and seemed to be peering behind it. making her way toward him, she asked: "what do you see?" "a cave," he answered. "let's go in. perhaps we'll find the scarecrow there." she was a little doubtful of that, but the cave interested her, and so did it cap'n bill. there was just space enough at the edge of the sheet of water for them to crowd in behind it, but after that dangerous entrance they found room enough to walk upright and after a time they came to an opening in the w r all of rock. approaching this opening, they gazed within it and found a series of steps, cut so that they might easily descend into the cavern. trot turned to look inquiringly at her companions. the falling water made such din and roaring that her voice could not be heard. cap'n bill nodded his head, but before he could enter the cave, button-bright was before him, clambering down the steps without a particle of fear. so the others followed the boy. the first steps were wet with spray, and slippery, but the remainder were quite dry. a rosy light seemed to come from the interior of the cave, and this lighted their way. after the steps there was a short tunnel, high enough for them to walk erect in, and then they reached the cave itself and paused in wonder and admiration. they stood on the edge of a vast cavern, the walls and domed roof of which were lined with countless rubies, exquisitely cut and flashing sparkling rays from one to another. this caused a radiant light that permitted the entire cavern to be distinctly seen, and the effect was so marvelous that trot drew in her breath with a sort of a gasp, and stood quite still in wonder. but the walls and roof of the cavern were merely a setting for a more wonderful scene. in the center was a bubbling cauldron of water, for here the river rose again, splashing and dashing till its spray rose high in the air, where it took the ruby color of the jewels and seemed like a seething mass of flame. and while they gazed into the tumbling, tossing water, the body of the scarecrow suddenly rose in the center, struggling and kicking, and the next instant wholly disappeared from view. "my, but he's wet!" exclaimed button-bright; but none of the others heard him. trot and cap'n bill discovered that a broad ledge--covered, like the walls, with glittering rubies--ran all around the cavern; so they followed this gorgeous path to the rear and found where the water made its final dive underground, before it disappeared entirely. where it plunged into this dim abyss the river was black and dreary looking, and they stood gazing in awe until just beside them the body of the scarecrow again popped up from the water. [illustration] [illustration] chapter 23 the land of oz the straw man's appearance on the water was so sudden that it startled trot, but cap'n bill had the presence of mind to stick his wooden leg out over the water and the scarecrow made a desperate clutch and grabbed the leg with both hands. he managed to hold on until trot and button-bright knelt down and seized his clothing, but the children would have been powerless to drag the soaked scarecrow ashore had not cap'n bill now assisted them. when they laid him on the ledge of rubies he was the most useless looking scarecrow you can imagine--his straw sodden and dripping with water, his clothing wet and crumpled, while even the sack upon which his face was painted had become so wrinkled that the old jolly expression of their stuffed friend's features was entirely gone. but he could still speak, and when trot bent down her ear she heard him say: "get me out of here as soon as you can." that seemed a wise thing to do, so cap'n bill lifted his head and shoulders, and trot and button-bright each took a leg; among them they partly carried and partly dragged the damp scarecrow out of the ruby cavern, along the tunnel, and up the flight of rock steps. it was somewhat difficult to get him past the edge of the waterfall, but they succeeded, after much effort, and a few minutes later laid their poor comrade on a grassy bank where the sun shone upon him freely and he was beyond the reach of the spray. cap'n bill now knelt down and examined the straw that the scarecrow was stuffed with. "i don't believe it'll be of much use to him, any more," said he, "for it's full of polliwogs an' fish eggs, an' the water has took all the crinkle out o' the straw an' ruined it. i guess, trot, that the best thing for us to do is to empty out all his body an' carry his head an' clothes along the road till we come to a field or a house where we can get some fresh straw." "yes, cap'n," she agreed, "there's nothing else to be done. but how shall we ever find the road to glinda's palace, without the scarecrow to guide us?" "that's easy," said the scarecrow, speaking in a rather feeble but distinct voice. "if cap'n bill will carry my head on his shoulders, eyes front, i can tell him which way to go." so they followed that plan and emptied all the old, wet straw out of the scarecrow's body. then the sailor-man wrung out the clothes and laid them in the sun till they were quite dry. trot took charge of the head and pressed the wrinkles out of the face as it dried, so that after a while the scarecrow's expression became natural again, and as jolly as before. this work consumed some time, but when it was completed they again started upon their journey, button-bright carrying the boots and hat, trot the bundle of clothes, and cap'n bill the head. the scarecrow, having regained his composure and being now in a good humor, despite his recent mishaps, beguiled their way with stories of the land of oz. [illustration] it was not until the next morning, however, that they found straw with which to restuff the scarecrow. that evening they came to the same little house they had slept in before, only now it was magically transferred to a new place. the same bountiful supper as before was found smoking hot upon the table and the same cosy beds were ready for them to sleep in. they rose early and after breakfast went out of doors, and there, lying just beside the house, was a heap of clean, crisp straw. ozma had noticed the scarecrow's accident in her magic picture and had notified the wizard to provide the straw, for she knew the adventurers were not likely to find straw in the country through which they were now traveling. they lost no time in stuffing the scarecrow anew, and he was greatly delighted at being able to walk around again and to assume the leadership of the little party. "really," said trot, "i think you're better than you were before, for you are fresh and sweet all through and rustle beautifully when you move." "thank you, my dear," he replied gratefully. "i always feel like a new man when i'm freshly stuffed. no one likes to get musty, you know, and even good straw may be spoiled by age." "it was water that spoiled you, the last time," remarked button-bright, "which proves that too much bathing is as bad as too little. but, after all, scarecrow, water is not as dangerous for you as fire." "all things are good in moderation," declared the scarecrow. "but now, let us hurry on, or we shall not reach glinda's palace by nightfall." [illustration] [illustration] chapter 24 the royal reception at about four o'clock of that same day the red wagon drew up at the entrance to glinda's palace and dorothy and betsy jumped out. ozma's red wagon was almost a chariot, being inlaid with rubies and pearls, and it was drawn by ozma's favorite steed, the wooden sawhorse. "shall i unharness you," asked dorothy, "so you can come in and visit?" "no," replied the sawhorse. "til just stand here and think. take your time. thinking doesn't seem to bore me at all." "what will you think of?" inquired betsy. "of the acorn that grew the tree from which i was made." so they left the wooden animal and went in to see glinda, who welcomed the little girls in her most cordial manner. "i knew you were on your way," said the good sorceress when they were seated in her library, "for i learned from my record book that you intended to meet trot and button-bright on their arrival here." "is the strange little girl named trot?' asked dorothy. "yes; and her companion, the old sailor, is named cap'n bill. i think we shall like them very much, for they are just the kind of people to enjoy and appreciate our fairyland and i do not see any way, at present, for them to return again to the outside world." "well, there's room enough here for them, i'm sure," said dorothy. "betsy and i are already eager to welcome trot. it will keep us busy for a year, at least, showing her all the wonderful things in oz." glinda smiled. "i have lived here many years," said she, "and i have not seen all the wonders of oz vet." meantime the travelers were drawing near to the palace, and when they first caught sight of its towers trot realized that it was far more grand and imposing than was the king's castle in jinxland. the nearer they came, the more beautiful the palace appeared, and when finally the scarecrow led them up the great marble steps, even button-bright was filled with awe. "i don't see any soldiers to guard the place," said the little girl. "there is no need to guard glinda's palace," replied the scarecrow. "we have no wicked people in oz, that we know of, and even if there were any, glinda's magic would be powerful enough to protect her." button-bright was now standing on the top steps of the entrance, and he suddenly exclaimed: "why, there's the sawhorse and the red wagon! hip, hooray!" and next moment he was rushing down to throw his arms around the neck of the wooden horse, which good-naturedly permitted this familiarity when it recognized in the boy an old friend. button-bright's shout had been heard inside the palace, so now dorothy and betsy came running out to embrace their beloved friend, the scarecrow, and to welcome trot and cap'n bill to the land of oz. "we've been watching you for a long time, in ozma's magic picture," said dorothy, "and ozma has sent us to invite you to her own palace in the em'rald city. i don't know if you realize how lucky you are to get that invitation, but you'll understand it better after you've seen the royal palace and the em'rald city." glinda now appeared in person to lead all the party into her azure reception room. trot was a little afraid of the stately sorceress, but gained courage by holding fast to the hands of betsy and dorothy. cap'n bill had no one to help him feel at ease, so the old sailor sat stiffly on the edge of his chair and said: "yes, ma'am," or "no, ma'am," when he was spoken to, and was greatly embarrassed by so much splendor. the scarecrow had lived so much in palaces that he felt quite at home, and he chatted to glinda and the oz girls in a merry, light-hearted way. he told all about his adventures in jinxland, and at the great waterfall, and on the journey hither--most of which his hearers knew already--and then he asked dorothy and betsy what had happened in the emerald city since he had left there. they all passed the evening and the night at glinda's palace, and the sorceress was so gracious to cap'n bill that the old man by degrees regained his self-possession and began to enjoy himself. trot had already come to the conclusion that in dorothy and betsy she had found two delightful comrades, and button-bright was just as much at home here as he had been in the fields of jinxland or when he was buried in the popcorn snow of the land of mo. the next morning they arose bright and early and after breakfast bade good-bye to the kind sorceress, whom trot and cap'n bill thanked earnestly for sending the scarecrow to jinxland to rescue them. then they all climbed into the red wagon. there was room for all on the broad seats, and when all had taken their places--dorothy, trot and betsy on the rear seat and cap'n bill, button-bright and the scarecrow in front--they called "gid-dap!" to the sawhorse and the wooden steed moved briskly away, pulling the red wagon with ease. it was now that the strangers began to perceive the real beauties of the land of oz, for they were passing through a more thickly settled part of the country and the population grew more dense as they drew nearer to the emerald city. everyone they met had a cheery word or a smile for the scarecrow, dorothy and betsy bobbin, and some of them remembered button-bright and welcomed him back to their country. it was a happy party, indeed, that journeyed in the red wagon to the emerald city, and trot already began to hope that ozma would permit her and cap'n bill to live always in the land of oz. when they reached the great city they were more amazed than ever, both by the concourse of people in their quaint and picturesque costumes, and by the splendor of the city itself. but the magnificence of the royal palace quite took their breath away, until ozma received them in her own pretty apartment and by her charming manners and assuring smiles made them feel they were no longer strangers. trot was given a lovely little room next to that of dorothy, while cap'n bill had the cosiest sort of a room next to trot's and overlooking the gardens. and that evening ozma gave a grand banquet and reception in honor of the new arrivals. while trot had read of many of the people she then met, cap'n bill was less familiar with them and many of the unusual characters introduced to him that evening caused the old sailor to open his eyes wide in astonishment. [illustration] [illustration] he had thought the live scarecrow about as curious as anyone could be, but now he met the tin woodman, who was all made of tin, even to his heart, and carried a gleaming axe over his shoulder wherever he went. then there was jack pumpkinhead, whose head was a real pumpkin with the face carved upon it; and professor wogglebug, who had the shape of an enormous bug but was dressed in neat fitting garments. the professor was an interesting talker and had very polite manners, but his face was so comical that it made cap'n bill smile to look at it. a great friend of dorothy and ozma seemed to be a machine man called tik-tok, who ran down several times during the evening and had to be wound up again by someone before he could move or speak. at the reception appeared the shaggy man and his brother, both very popular in oz, as well as dorothy's uncle henry and aunt em, two happy old people who lived in a pretty cottage near the palace. but what perhaps seemed most surprising to both trot and cap'n bill was the number of peculiar animals admitted into ozma's parlors, where they not only conducted themselves quite properly but were able to talk as well as anyone. there was the cowardly lion, an immense beast with a beautiful mane; and the hungry tiger, who smiled continually; and eureka the pink kitten, who lay curled upon a cushion and had rather supercilious manners; and the wooden sawhorse; and nine tiny piglets that belonged to the wizard; and a mule named hank, who belonged to betsy bobbin. a fuzzy little terrier dog, named toto, lay at dorothy's feet but seldom took part in the conversation, although he listened to every word that was said. but the most wonderful of all to trot was a square beast with a winning smile, that squatted in a corner of the room and wagged his square head at everyone in quite a jolly way. betsy told trot that this unique beast was called the woozy, and there was no other like him in all the world. cap'n bill and trot had both looked around expectantly for the wizard of oz, but the evening was far advanced before the famous little man entered the room. but he went up to the strangers at once and said: "i know you, but you don't know me; so let's get acquainted." and they did get acquainted, in a very short time, and before the evening was over trot felt that she knew every person and animal present at the reception, and that they were all her good friends. suddenly they looked around for button-bright, but he was nowhere to be found. "dear me!" cried trot. "he's lost again." "never mind, my dear," said ozma, with her charming smile, "no one can go far astray in the land of oz, and if button-bright isn't lost occasionally, he isn't happy." [illustration] * * * * * transcriber notes all illustrations were placed so as to not split paragraphs. the color illustrations were grouped together (between pages 32 and 33) in the printed version; but have been moved to the relevent point within the story. minor typos corrected. 