<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN>
<div>
<h1 id="booktitle">THE RAINBOW BOOK</h1>
<div class="topbox">
<p class="centered"><i>BY THE SAME AUTHOR</i>
<br/><br/>
LITTLEDOM CASTLE
<br/>
MY SON AND I
<br/>
MARGERY REDFORD
<br/>
THE LOVE FAMILY
<br/>
THE CHILD OF THE AIR</p>
</div>
<p class="h5"><i>All rights reserved</i></p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="frontispiece" id="frontispiece"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/frontispiece.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="592" alt="The Fish-King and the Dog-Fish" title="The Fish-King and the Dog-Fish"></div>
<p class="caption">The Fish-King and the Dog-Fish</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/z006.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="624" alt="Title Page" title="Title Page"> <p class="caption">The Rainbow Book Tales of Fun & Fancy <br/> By Mrs. M. H. SPIELMANN
<br/>
Illustrated by
<br/>
Arthur Rackham
<br/>
Hugh Thomson
<br/>
Bernard Partridge
<br/>
Lewis Baumer
<br/>
Harry Rountree
<br/>
C. Wilhelm
<br/>
<br/>
NEW YORK
<br/>
FREDERICK WARNE AND CO.
<br/>
1909</p>
</div>
<p class="spacer"> </p>
<p class="h4">TO</p>
<p class="h3">BARBARA MARY RACKHAM</p>
<p class="h4">WITH ALL GOOD WISHES
<br/>
FOR HER FUTURE HAPPINESS
<br/>
<span style="margin-left:10em">MABEL H. SPIELMANN</span></p>
<hr class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum">[v]</span></p>
<h2>PREFACE</h2>
<p>It's all very well—but you, and I, and most of
us who are healthy in mind and blithe of spirit,
love to give rein to our fun and fancy, and to
mingle fun with our fancy and fancy with our fun.</p>
<p>The little Fairy-people are the favourite children
of Fancy, and were born into this serious
world ages and ages ago to help brighten it, and
make it more graceful and dainty and prettily
romantic than it was. They found the Folk-lore
people already here—grave, learned people whose
learning was all topsy-turvy, for it dealt with toads,
and storms, and diseases, and what strange things
would happen if you mixed them up together, and
how the devil would flee if you did something
with a herb, and how the tempest would stop
suddenly, as Terence records, if you sprinkled a
few drops of vinegar in front of it. No doubt,
since then thousands of people have sprinkled tens
of thousands of gallons of good vinegar before
advancing tempests, and although tempests pay
far less attention to the liquid than the troubled
waters to a pint of oil, the sprinklers and their<span class="pagenum">[vi]</span>
descendants have gone on believing with a touching
faith. It is pretty, but not practical.</p>
<p>But what <i>is</i> pretty and practical too, is that
all of us should sometimes let our fancy roam,
and that we should laugh as well, even over a
Fairy-story. Yet there are some serious-minded
persons, very grave and very clever, who get angry
if a smile so much as creeps into a Fairy-tale,
and if our wonder should be disturbed by anything
so worldly as a laugh. A Fairy-tale, they
say, should be like an old Folk-tale, marked by
sincerity and simplicity—as if humour cannot be
sincere and simple too. "The true Fairy-story is
not comic." Why not? Of this we may be sure—take
all the true humourless Fairy-stories and take
"Alice"—and "Alice" with its fun and fancy will
live beside them as long as English stories are read,
loved for its fancy and its fun, and hugged and
treasured for its jokes and its laughter. The one
objection is this: the "true Fairy-story" appeals
to all children, young and old, in all lands, equally,
by translation; and jokes and fun are sometimes
difficult to translate. But that is on account of
the shortcomings of language, and it is hard to
make young readers suffer by starving them of
fun, because the power of words is less absolute
than the power of fancy in its merrier mood.</p>
<p>Some people, of course, take their Fairies very<span class="pagenum">[vii]</span>
seriously indeed, and we cannot blame them, for
it is a very harmless and very beautiful mental
refreshment. Some, indeed, not only believe firmly
in Fairies—in their existence and their exploits—but
believe themselves to be actually visited by
the Little People. For my part, I would rather
be visited by a Fairy than by a Spook any day,
or night: but when the "sincerity" of some of us
drove the Fairies out, the world was left so blank
and unimaginative, that the Spooks had to be
invited in. The admixture of faith and imagination
produces strange results, while it raises us
above the commonplaceness of everyday life.</p>
<p>But, as I say, certain favoured people, mostly
little girls, it is true, are regularly visited by
Fairies even in the broad daylight, and they watch
them at their pretty business, at their games and
play (for Fairies, you may be sure, play and
laugh, however much the Folk-lorists may frown
when we are made to laugh with them). Two
hundred and fifty years ago a Cornish girl declared
that she had wonderful adventures with the
Fairies—and she meant truly what she said. And
it is only fifty years since an educated lady wrote
a sincere account of her doings with Fairies and
theirs with her, in an account which was reprinted in
one of the most serious of papers, and which showed
that the lady, like the uneducated Cornish girl two<span class="pagenum">[viii]</span>
centuries before, was a true "fairy-seer." Here is
a part of her story:—</p>
<p>"I used to spend a great deal of my time alone
in our garden, and I think it must have been soon
after my brother's death that I first saw (or perhaps
recollect seeing) Fairies. I happened one
day to break, with a little whip I had, the flower
of a buttercup: a little while after, as I was resting
on the grass, I heard a tiny but most beautiful
voice saying, 'Buttercup, who has broken your
house?' Then another voice replied, 'That little
girl that is lying close by you.' I listened in
great wonder, and looked about me, until I saw
a daisy, in which stood a little figure not larger,
certainly, than one of its petals.</p>
<p>"When I was between three and four years old
we removed to London, and I pined sadly for my
country home and friends. I saw none of them
for a long time, I think because I was discontented;
I did not try to make myself happy. At
last I found a copy of Shakespeare in my father's
study, which delighted me so much (though I
don't suppose I understood much of it) that I
soon forgot we were living where I could not
see a tree or a flower. I used to take the book
and my little chair, and sit in a paved yard we
had. (I could see the sky there.) One day, as
I was reading the 'Midsummer Night's Dream,' I<span class="pagenum">[ix]</span>
happened to look up, and saw before me a patch
of soft, green grass with the Fairy-ring upon it:
whilst I was wondering how it came, my old
friends appeared and acted the whole play (I
suppose to amuse me). After this they often
came, and did the same with the other plays."</p>
<p>There! what do you say to that? Do you
wonder that the good folk of Blagdon, for example,
still point to the hill "where the fairies
come to dance," and show you the Fairy-rings, like
that which Cedric saw (as is recounted in this book),
with the Little People capering about? Of course,
the country folk don't laugh at them, because it is
all so mysterious, and, as the scientific professors
declare, abnormal, if not supernormal; but do you
believe for one moment, that in their joyous dance
the fairies do not laugh and joke as well as play
and caper? The Bird-Fairy, as appears later, was
always grave and loving, and didn't laugh—but
then <i>she</i> was an enchanted Princess, and had sad
and serious business on hand, and was not quite sure,
sanguine though she was, of defeating the machinations
of the cunning and wicked Wizard. But
look at the classic Grimm, at the tiny, dancing,
capering tailors whose portraits Cruikshank drew
so well in it, and say if there is not a peal of
laughter in every open mouth of them, and a
chuckle in every limb and joint. Not "comic,"<span class="pagenum">[x]</span>
Mr. Folk-lorist? Why, they are the very spirit
and personification of comedy and fun!</p>
<p>But then your scientist comes along and tries to
explain away the Fairy-rings themselves, which
have defied explanation since Fairy-rings first came
among us. Once at Kinning Park at Glasgow
(and thousands of times elsewhere) four Fairy-rings
appeared in one night—on a cricket-ground, if you
please! on which the cricketers had been continuously
playing and practising; and the poets
said that they were made by the Fairies dancing
under the moonlight, or, when the moon went
to bed, by the lamplight of a glow-worm. That,
<i>I</i> think, must be the truth, simple and sincere.
Each ring was a belt of grass darker and greener
than the surrounding turf, and was eight or ten
inches broad; and the largest were nine and ten
feet in diameter, and the others five and six,
measuring from the centre of the belt. And the
circles were accurate and the advent of them quite
sudden. Clearly, the Fairies <i>must</i> have made them.
But then a learned professor arose and lectured
about them before the British Association. He
was a great naturalist, and said that the rings
contained a great number of toad-stools. And he
brought along a chemist who analysed the fungi, and
said he found in them a lot of phosphoric acid and
potash and peroxide of iron and sulphuric acid, and<span class="pagenum">[xi]</span>
a lot of things the fairies had never heard of and certainly
never brought there, and he said that that,
with phosphated alkali and magnesia, accounted for
the rings! And then another great professor said
that they must have been years in coming, and that
electricity might have something to do with it, and
that small rings sometimes spread to fifty yards in
diameter—which only proves the wonderful power
of happy industry of the Fairies, even in their revels
and in their play.</p>
<p>So much for the Fairies.</p>
<p>But everybody is not in love with Fairies; some
people don't care for them, some (as we have seen)
don't even believe in them! Many don't care to
read about them, being insensible to their grace
and pretty elegance, their exquisite dignity, and
their ever-present youth. Who ever heard of a
middle-aged fairy? Such folk, be their age what
it may, generally prefer fun; especially do they
love what Charles Dickens once for all defined and
established as the Spirit of Christmas. Well, here
they may find Father Christmas at home, and
on his rounds. Here they will find revealed and
laid bare the whole secret and mystery of Santa
Claus—where the presents come from, and where
they are stored—how they are packed and how
delivered while we are all asleep in our beds,
delivered from the waits. Here, too, the "old-fangled<span class="pagenum">[xii]</span>
father" is justified in the eyes of his
"new-fangled sons," who recognise that fundamental
truths—and such truths!—are not shaken
by the on-coming tide of Time. And here, besides,
you may learn what goes on on that other side
of the moon which we never see, and what is its
service to Man, and to Woman and Child as well.
And for the first time in the history of romance
we discover what it was that the Sleeping Beauty
dreamt. And there are stories of other kinds—with
a touch of pathos, too.</p>
<p>Story-telling is the oldest of the arts—the art
of which we never tire—the art which will be out-lived
by none other, however fascinating, however
beautiful, however perfect. It may deal with
human thought and human passion; it may appeal
to the highest intellect and the profoundest sentiments
of men; or just to the brightest and
dreamiest fancy of the young. Be it but well
told, even though it does not stir our emotions,
the little story delights the imagination, and makes
us grateful to the teller for an hour well spent
or pleasantly whiled away. That is the greatest
reward of the writer, as it is the sole ambition
of the author of these little tales.</p>
<p class="author"><i>Mister</i> M. H. SPIELMANN.<span class="pagenum">[xiii]</span></p>
<p class="spacer"> </p>
<p class="h3">CONTENTS</p>
<div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="70%" summary="Table of Contents">
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc" colspan="2">Adventures in Wizard-land—</td>
<td class="tdrfirst">PAGE</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> </td>
<td class="tdl"><i>Illustrated by</i> <span class="smcap">Arthur Rackham, A.R.W.S.</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">I.</td>
<td class="tdl"><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_I">A Knock at the Red Door</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">1</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">II.</td>
<td class="tdl"><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_II">The Wizard at Home</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">8</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr"> III.</td>
<td class="tdl"><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_III">The Bird-Fairy Speaks</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">18</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">IV.</td>
<td class="tdl"><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_IV">The Lost Catseye</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">26</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">V.</td>
<td class="tdl"><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_V">In the Fish-King's Realm</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">45</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">VI.</td>
<td class="tdl"><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_VI">The Mystery of the Crab</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">67</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr"> VII.</td>
<td class="tdl"><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_VII">The Magic Bracelets</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">76</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">VIII.</td>
<td class="tdl"><SPAN href="#CHAPTER_VIII">The Spell—and how it Worked</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">83</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><SPAN href="#THE_OLD-FANGLED_FATHER_AND">The Old-Fangled Father and his New-Fangled Sons</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">91</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><SPAN href="#THE_LITTLE_PICTURE_GIRL">The Little Picture Girl</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">103</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> </td>
<td class="tdl"><i>Illustrated by</i> <span class="smcap">Hugh Thomson, R.I.</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><SPAN href="#THE_SLEEPING_BEAUTYS_DREAM">The Sleeping Beauty's Dream</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">117</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> </td>
<td class="tdl"><i>Illustrated by</i> <span class="smcap">Bernard Partridge, R.I.</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><SPAN href="#THE_GAMEKEEPERS_DAUGHTER">The Gamekeeper's Daughter</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">123</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> </td>
<td class="tdl"><i>Illustrated by</i> <span class="smcap">Lewis Baumer</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><SPAN href="#ALL_ON_A_FIFTH_OF_NOVEMBER">All on a Fifth of November</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">139</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><SPAN href="#FATHER_CHRISTMAS_AT_HOME">Father Christmas at Home</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">150</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> </td>
<td class="tdl"><i>Illustrated by</i> <span class="smcap">Arthur Rackham, A.R.W.S.</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl"><span class="pagenum">[xiv]</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><SPAN href="#A_BIRTHDAY_STORY">A Birthday Story</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">168</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><SPAN href="#LITTLE_STARRY">Little Starry</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">178</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><SPAN href="#CEDRICS_UNACCOUNTABLE">Cedric's Unaccountable Adventure</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">187</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> </td>
<td class="tdl"><i>Illustrated by</i> <span class="smcap">Harry Rountree</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><SPAN href="#ROSELLA">Rosella</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">206</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><SPAN href="#THE_CUCKOO_THAT_LIVED_IN_THE">The Cuckoo that Lived in the Clock-House</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">220</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><SPAN href="#CHRISTMAS_AT_THE_COURT_OF">Christmas at the Court of King Jorum</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">229</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> </td>
<td class="tdl"><i>Illustrated by</i> <span class="smcap">Hugh Thomson, R.I.</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><SPAN href="#ONE_APRIL_DAY">One April Day</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">247</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><SPAN href="#THE_STORM_THE_TEAPOT_BREWED">The Storm the Teapot Brewed</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">259</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc" colspan="2"><SPAN href="#MONICA_THE_MOON_CHILD">Monica the Moon Child</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">268</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td> </td>
<td class="tdl"><i>Illustrated by</i> <span class="smcap">C. Wilhelm<span class="pagenum">[xv]</span></span></td>
</tr>
</table></div>
<p class="spacer"> </p>
<p class="h3">ILLUSTRATIONS</p>
<div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="4" width="70%" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations">
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#frontispiece">The Fish-king and the Dog-Fish</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdrfirst"><i>Frontispiece</i></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl"> </td>
<td class="tdrfirst"><i>To face page</i></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z028">"So you've come to see the Wizard," he said</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">6</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z076">Its Head was patted graciously</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">52</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z088">What a glorious Ride that was</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">62</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z098">She stroked it—actually stroked it</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">70</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z112">Taking the Boy and Girl by a Hand, he led them</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">82</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z136">The Little Picture Girl</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">104</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z144">In marched a stout Beadle</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">110</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z156">Then she accepted his invitation to Dance</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">120</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z160">"It is you, O Prince, the Youth of my Dream!"</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">122</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z166">"You can just hand over that Pheasant"</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">126</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z172">"Who are you, then?"</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">130</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z182">She ran and fetched his Presents she was anxious to show</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">138</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z200">It was a very, very long Ladder</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">154</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z212">The two Reindeer ... sped rapidly away</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">164</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z240">Lay low, and hatched an audacious Plot</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">190</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z244">"Of course your young Majesty has got the Key?"</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">192</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z258">"I really do look every inch a King!"</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">204</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z288">Looking neither to the Right nor to the Left</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">232</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z332">Round about was nothing but Mountains, Craters, Caverns</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">274</td>
</tr>
</table></div>
<p class="spacer"> </p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[xvi]</span></p>
<p class="h3">ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE TEXT</p>
<div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="70%" summary="Illustrations in the Text">
<tr>
<td class="tdl"> </td>
<td class="tdrfirst">PAGE</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z022">Adventures in Wizard-Land</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">1</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z034">"All these poor Creatures were Children"</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">11</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z037">He took Two Jewelled Circlets out of a Satchel</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">14</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z042">"I am the Bird-Fairy," she said</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">19</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z084">They met many a Quaint Creature</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">59</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z118">The Wizard, with a Groan of Pain, had leapt back</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">87</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z120">Lying full length on the Ground next to his shattered Invention</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">89</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z134">Initial</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">103</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z140">He mounted it very carefully</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">107</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z148">Smiled as she waved Good-bye</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">113</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z204">"I suppose you know you're trespassing?"</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">157</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z325">Monica the Moon Child</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">268</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z330">She was soaring like a Bird right out into the Night</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">273</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z339">A Tiny Figure, no bigger than Monica's Doll</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">280</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z342">Rows upon Rows of the beautifullest Roses</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">283</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlsc"><SPAN href="#z348">The Man lifted his Arm so that his Face was once more hidden in gloom</SPAN></td>
<td class="tdr">289</td>
</tr>
</table></div>
<hr class="thin">
<p class="h5"><i>The Title-page and End-papers are by</i> <span class="smcap">Mr. Carton Moore Park</span>.</p>
<div class="big">
<hr class="chapter">
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="z022" id="z022"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/z022.jpg" width-obs="498" height-obs="264" alt="" title=""></div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[1]</span></p>
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></SPAN>CHAPTER I</h2>
<p class="h3">A KNOCK AT THE RED DOOR</p>
<p>"It's a shame, Dulcie. We mayn't go out just
because it's raining a few drops," said the boy at
the nursery window.</p>
<p>"Yes, a fearful shame," replied his sister. She
always sympathised with him and gave in to him,
right or wrong. She carefully propped her doll bolt
upright on a chair and came to where he stood.
"Never mind, Cyril. Let's play at something."</p>
<p>"Yes, but I do mind. It's too bad! It's always
'you mustn't' this, 'you mustn't' that. It would
be a saving of breath if they'd just say the few
things that we <i>might</i> do. Are you willing to go
on putting up with it? I suppose you are, as
you're only a girl."<span class="pagenum">[2]</span></p>
<p>"No, I don't want to, but I've got to. Mother
says it is for our good, and we are spoilt."</p>
<p>"I don't think so at all. It's very hard lines,"
growled Cyril. "I'm sure the garden isn't a bit wet,
and the rocks have only a sprinkle."</p>
<p>Certainly the window panes had more than a
sprinkle trickling down them. But the birds were
twittering fussily in the bushes and amongst the
ivy, and the garden was looking its best in the
summer shower. Fitful gleams of sunshine cast
loving touches here and there on the roses and the
sweet honeysuckle; and the tall white lilies never
looked fresher or smarter. Beyond, were those
tempting rocks, with their surroundings of sand,
which rose so strangely in that part of inland Kent,
telling of former ages and of the vagaries of the sea
and river. The rocks were the happy playground
of these lucky Twins, who lived in the fine solitary
house close by, and who were now peering so disconsolately
through the window, flattening their noses
against the glass blurred with the pattering rain.</p>
<p>They were exactly the same height; they resembled
one another in feature, and, being twins,
were both nine years old; and there the likeness
ended, for his dark hair was short and thick, and
hers was fair and very long. She was timid and
gentle though her bright face was very happy; he,
what is termed "a handful."<span class="pagenum">[3]</span></p>
<p>"<i>I</i> know!" exclaimed Dulcie after a moment's
silence, drawing her brother away from the melancholy
amusement of tracing down the trailing drops
with his finger until they disappeared mysteriously
at the bottom of the glass. "I know! Let's play
'Birds, Beasts, and Fishes.'"</p>
<p>Cyril cast a lingering look at the tiresome dark
clouds, then with a sigh and a frown turned round
in token of consent, graciously suffered himself to
be settled at the table with paper and pencil, and
was soon excitedly trying to guess what Dulcie's
Bird could be that began with the letter c, had four
between, and ended with an <i>e</i>.</p>
<p>"It's very easy, really," pleaded Dulcie, burning
to tell. "Do you give it up?"</p>
<p>Cyril wasn't so easily beaten as that, and thought
till he grew impatient.</p>
<p>"Shall I tell you?—<i>Let</i> me tell you!" urged his
sister.</p>
<p>"If you like," he replied magnanimously.</p>
<p>"Canare!"</p>
<p>"I'm sure it's spelt with a <i>y</i>," he said, as if he
weren't quite certain in spite of his words.</p>
<p>They argued who should score the mark, and
settled the point by counting it a draw. She followed
it up with a Fish, which was <i>s</i>, two between,
and an <i>l</i>, which puzzled Cyril until he found, of
course, that it was "soul."<span class="pagenum">[4]</span></p>
<p>Believing he had lost again, he allowed his interest
in the game to flag, and still restless, he ran to the
window.</p>
<p>"Hooray! it's fine now," he cried. "Come along,
we don't want hats!"</p>
<p>"<i>Ought</i> we to go, do you think, Cyril, without
asking?"</p>
<p>"I'm not going to ask, not if I know it. We
would be sure to be 'don't'-ed. I'm going out.
It's so stuffy here. You can do as you like."</p>
<p>"If you go, I shall go too," she replied quickly,
following him and taking his hand. He didn't
quite like that, but he felt, as she was "only a
woman," he would let her.</p>
<p>Away they ran lightly, out into the sunshine,
happy to be in the warm, scented air, through the
garden, off to the dear old rocks which were already
drying nicely, and at once a fine game of hide-and-seek
was in full swing.</p>
<p>Dulcie had gone again to hide, and Cyril had his
face buried in his hands, waiting for the familiar
"Cuckoo!" when he was startled instead by a faint cry
of surprise, followed by "Cyril, come quick! Quick!"</p>
<p>"It must be a beetle or a toad, or something,"
he said to himself as he hurried to the spot from
which her voice seemed to come; but it was only
after she had repeated her excited cries that he
found her at last.<span class="pagenum">[5]</span></p>
<p>She had found a passage through the rocks which
they had never noticed before!</p>
<p>"Come along!" cried Cyril joyously at the sight
of it. "Come along! we'll go on a voyage of discovery!"</p>
<hr class="tb">
<p>Down the passage they went, far and carefully, for
there was only a glimmer of light in a thin streak peeping
through, because the rocks all but joined at the
top, and the ground was uneven and slippery. But
in spite of their caution they got a sudden start, for
they became aware of a silent brook flowing deep
and swiftly by, at their feet: another step and they
would have been in it. The Twins, rather startled,
looked at one another, and then without further
thought they just jumped across. Jumped into an
open space—into <span class="smcap">Moonlight</span>. There was actually
a full moon overhead, but with such seams and lines
about it that it bore the appearance of being pieced
together like a geographical puzzle.</p>
<p>"Cyril, look there!" whispered Dulcie, pressing
close up to him, as soon as she found words.</p>
<p>In the white light there stood an immense rock.
In it there was a wooden door with hewn-out steps
leading up to it. A nice red door it was, with a
green knocker upon it in the shape of a mouth
smiling a welcome. Of course they went up to it,
climbed the steps, which were high and difficult, and<span class="pagenum">[6]</span>
stared at the neatly engraved brass plate below it,
which bore the words:</p>
<div class="topbox">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Knock if an answer is required.<br/></span>
<span class="i4">If not, why?<br/></span></div>
</div></div>
<p>"I'm going to knock," said Cyril.</p>
<p>"Oh no, we don't want any answer," said Dulcie,
"so why do it?"</p>
<p>A backward glance at the steps puzzled her, for
they had grown steeper than before and impossible
to climb down again, or up, for the matter of that,
and the door before which they stood was now at
such a height from the ground as to make her
feel giddy to look below. She hardly had time
to think about it when Cyril raised the knocker
and let it go. Instead of the usual sound a
knocker makes, a loud laugh rang out, discordant
and disconcerting. "You needn't be frightened,"
he remarked, for his little sister hung back and
tightened her grasp of his arm. The next moment
the door swung open and there stood on the threshold
a very tall man with an enormous bald head.
He was clad in a yellow satin dressing-gown, and
wore great smoke-coloured spectacles.</p>
<p>"So you've come to see the Wizard," he said
blandly. "Pray walk in!"</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="z028" id="z028"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/z028.jpg" width-obs="386" height-obs="600" alt=""So you've come to see the Wizard," he said" title=""></div>
<p class="caption">"So you've come to see the Wizard," he said</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[7]</span></p>
<p>"I—I think we'd—we'd rather not, thank you
very much," stammered Cyril, very red, whilst
Dulcie looked up, pale and wondering. "We're
not dressed for visiting," she urged in a loud
whisper in her brother's ear.</p>
<p>"But you require an answer, or why knock?"
retorted the strange man. "<i>Pray</i> walk in," he
repeated. He was so polite.</p>
<p>The door swung behind them, and the trembling
twins found themselves alone with the Wizard in
a very large cave, where the walls glowed with
phosphorescent light, while the further end was
hidden in deep gloom.</p>
<hr class="chapter">
<span class="pagenum">[8]</span>
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></SPAN>CHAPTER II</h2>
<p class="h3">THE WIZARD AT HOME</p>
<p>"How do you do?" said the Wizard, as if he
remembered he had forgotten to ask. The Twins
shyly shook hands with him and said they were
quite well, thank him. They didn't want to a
bit, but he seemed to expect it. "Let's talk
matters over," he added with a smile. It was
such a winning smile that the children began to
feel less uncomfortable. "You're not always
quite content, I believe," and he rubbed his
hands cheerfully together. "That mother of
yours interferes rather too much, eh?" With
a rapid movement he pushed his spectacles away
on to the top of his bumpy baldness, revealing a
pair of small eyes with a red, slumbering glow
in them.</p>
<p>As Cyril didn't reply Dulcie ventured to remark,
"If you please, my brother thinks she says
'don't' too often."</p>
<p>"But how do you know that?" interrupted
Cyril, who, though surprised, took a more practical
view of the situation.<span class="pagenum">[9]</span></p>
<p>"Because," slowly replied the Wizard, taking
off his spectacles and scratching his big nose with
them—"because I was an optician in my youth
and made these glasses, through which I have only
to look to see people as they really are and not
what they appear to be. ["How clever!" broke
in Dulcie under her breath.] I found out at a
glance that you are discontented with your lot,
and prefer to be free. You are tired of control,
eh? Isn't that the state of Home Affairs?"</p>
<p>"Yes," said Cyril, once more full of his wrongs.
"It's only children who are not allowed to do
what they want. Grown-ups do as they like; so
does our dog; he goes out and comes in when he
likes, eats when he wants, leaves what he likes—or
rather, what he doesn't like; so does our cat.
You see," he continued, growing quite chummy,
"we are never allowed to do this, that, and the
other, like other people—animals, I mean—and
they are free and happy, and they needn't bother
with lessons. It's so stupid being a child!" he
concluded plaintively, and Dulcie nodded a similar
opinion.</p>
<p>"Just as I thought. Well, I shouldn't put up
with it if I were you," replied their new friend,
smiling again, and scratching his nose with his
spectacles in his thoughtful, insinuating manner.
"I should advise you to go your own way, seek<span class="pagenum">[10]</span>
your own fortunes, and find your own happiness
for yourselves. We must see what we can do to
help you to freedom. Eh?"</p>
<p>The little guests did not think to thank him, for
their eyes had begun to roam with curiosity over
the strange things that were all about. The cave
dwelling was queerly furnished, if it could be
called furniture. There were animals of all sizes
and shapes, standing around stuffed, staring, and
immovable. Snakes, fish, small birds; an elephant
just like life standing rigidly next to a number of
grinning stuffed monkeys; while a crocodile with
open jaws looked snaps at a startled fawn with
wide-set eyes. It was like a frozen Zoological
Gardens.</p>
<p>"Once upon a time," remarked the Wizard,
following the children's source of interest, "all
those poor creatures were children like you. Ah!
their end was sad, very sad; very sad indeed!"</p>
<p>The Twins didn't like that remark at all, nor
did they relish the winning smile this time that
accompanied it. Then bursting out laughing he
exclaimed—</p>
<p>"Now I'll show you something funny," and he
brought out from a corner what looked like a cinematograph.
"Look!" he said as he touched a
spring and set it going.</p>
<p>There was a hissing sound, and the gloom at the<span class="pagenum">[11]</span>
end of the cave passed away, and there marched
along in living procession all the inhabitants of
their Noah's Ark.</p>
<p>Dulcie and Cyril were transfixed with delight
at this charming entertainment.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="z034" id="z034"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/z034.jpg" width-obs="497" height-obs="403" alt=""All those poor creatures were children"" title=""></div>
<p class="caption">"All those poor creatures were children"</p>
<p>"And we don't pay anything to come in!" remarked
Cyril softly to his sister. "It can't pay him.
They're all going in for safety, you see—all the
birds, all the beasts——"</p>
<p>"Where are the fishes?" anxiously interrupted
his little sister in a whisper.<span class="pagenum">[12]</span></p>
<p>"Don't be such a Billy," retorted Cyril with a
frown; "the fishes are used to being drowned."</p>
<p>After Noah went into the Ark and had shut
the door, the gloom reappeared. The show was
over.</p>
<p>"That's a little idea of my own," remarked the
Wizard as he put the machine away. "Amusing,
isn't it?"</p>
<p>The Twins nodded. Then he invited the children
to look through a hole in the wall of the
cave, and they saw a small room.</p>
<p>"That's my hospitable bedroom," he said, "that
I've endowed myself with. When I'm down in
the mumps from being crouped up here so long,
I go there and wrap myself up in thoughts all nice
and smug. It is fitted with the epileptic light,
rheumatic bells, and all the latest infections.</p>
<p>"Now, what were we talking about before? Ah
yes! My inventions. None of your modern up-to-date
rubbish, only inventions of the future for
me. None of your wireless telephony and wireless
telegraphy for me. Listen to this." He called
out—</p>
<p>"Number A. 1. Sea Power! Have you been
successful in that last little financial venture, Sire?"</p>
<p>There were rushing sounds, as of waves, at the
far end of the cave, and a muffled voice replied—</p>
<p>"No, Cabalistic One, I have lost again. Just<span class="pagenum">[13]</span>
my luck! Dash—sh—sh—" which resolved itself
into the swish-swish of rolling surf. Then all was
quiet again.</p>
<p>"The reply of a friend of mine residing far away
at a place called 'The Billows,'" explained the
Wizard in an offhand way. "I help him in his little
transactions, which are sometimes rather—in fact
very—!" and raising his arm he smothered a laugh
in his yellow satin sleeve which was not pleasant
to hear. "I always like to laugh up there," he explained,
as the children looked surprised.</p>
<p>Dulcie's hand stole into her brother's and she
whispered him to "Come away, come away, do,
quick, and let's go home."</p>
<p>"But you haven't seen any of my marvellous
jewellery yet," replied their host, as though she had
spoken aloud.</p>
<p>"Don't be timid"—he was looking at them
through those horrid spectacles again, which laid
bare all their thoughts. "You know I am only
answering that knock of yours. Had you not required
an answer, there would have been no information
forthcoming. I should just like to show
you these bracelets I have here." He pushed his
glasses across his baldness and took two jewelled
golden circlets out of a satchel which hung from
the cord of his gown. "Other children have taken
great interest in them," said the Wizard slowly<span class="pagenum">[14]</span>—"in fact have worn
all the gems out.
But I've often had
them done up
again; and you are
both welcome to
them—very welcome
to them, if
you like. You see,
<i>they</i> are able to inform
their wearers
how to play at
'Birds, Beasts, and
Fishes' <i>properly</i>."</p>
<ANTIMG class="split" src="images/z037.jpg" width-obs="363" height-obs="680" alt="He took two jewelled circlets out of a satchel" title="">
<SPAN name="z037" id="z037"></SPAN>
<p class="caption split">He took two jewelled circlets out of a satchel</p>
<p>"We know already,"
replied the
boy and girl together,
now restlessly
impatient to
be gone.</p>
<p>"I don't mean
that tiresome educational
game you
were playing when
you were waiting in
because of those
few drops of rain.
I mean the <i>real</i> thing—to be actually the real<span class="pagenum">[15]</span>
animals themselves in the realms of the Birds,
Beasts, and Fishes. Only in that way can children
realise how much nicer it is to be one of them, and
to live a life free from the 'don'ts' and vexatious
care of their elders. Ah! <i>Now</i> you're interested!"</p>
<p>The Twins were staring at him open-mouthed.</p>
<p>"These bracelets," continued the Wizard, whilst
the ten catseye gems in each of them gleamed
curiously as he spoke—"see—aren't they beautiful—</p>
<p>"<span class="smcap">These Bracelets will empower the
wearers to become Bird, Beast, or Fish, at
each wish; to regain his shape, or her
shape, at will, and to live in any atmosphere—or
in none!</span> At every change of form
a catseye will disappear and return to me. With
the last wish the wonderful adventures will be
over, and the shape last chosen will remain to the
end of existence. All these silly animals in my
dwelling came at the last to seek my help as they
were dissatisfied. I did what I could, which wasn't
much. Of course I don't want so many of them
here," he added carelessly, scratching his nose with
his glasses, "though they do help with my experiments—they
do that—oh yes—but I always advise
getting experience first. They somehow got to
know that <i>as children under ten</i> they could only
pass <i>into</i> my <span class="smcap">Moonlight</span> and never <i>out of it</i>; and<span class="pagenum">[16]</span>
that my faithful <span class="smcap">Brook</span> would not see them twice.
So they came for help in their last shapes as animals.
Oh!" he added, pulling himself up with evident
pretence, "I helped them right enough! They
should have kept a pair of catseyes—I warned
them—and they might have crossed my <span class="smcap">Brook</span>
in some other shape than their own and changed
to themselves the other side. But somehow they
were not fortunate enough to manage that. Some
people are so thoughtless. Pray excuse me, my
dears, there's some one at the knocker," and throwing
the bracelets into a corner where they glittered
strangely, the Wizard vanished.</p>
<p>"Come away, do come away," implored Dulcie,
plucking at her brother's sleeve. "I'm so frightened,"
she whimpered. "Don't touch them. Oh!
I want to go home."</p>
<p>"But, sis, you heard what he said. We can't
cross his horrid brook twice whilst we are under
ten. Crying won't help," replied the boy sturdily.
Nevertheless, he looked terribly frightened himself,
although he patted her shoulder comfortingly. "<i>I
feel I must!</i>" he muttered; "besides, it's our only
way out of here, and get out of here we must, and
escape in some other shape."</p>
<p>Cyril hastily picked up the bracelets, put one on
his wrist and the other on Dulcie's, and taking her
by the hand dragged her right into the gloomy<span class="pagenum">[17]</span>
part of the cavern farther and farther away from
the hateful dwelling and its awful master. He
couldn't tell where he was leading her, but he ran
blindly on until at last there was daylight in the
distance. And the Twins found themselves surrounded
by haystacks, windmills, and other country
objects.</p>
<p>"Ah!" exclaimed Cyril with delight, "see how
I've saved you, Dulcie!"</p>
<p>"And a good job too," she replied with conviction.</p>
<p>So they wandered gaily on, laughing at anything
and everything in the happiness of their escape.
They <i>were</i> happy, anyhow; happy in their absolute
freedom. And were they not in the possession,
too, of the precious bracelets which were going to
lead them into all sorts of delightful adventures
as soon as they chose! They could talk of nothing
else—and babbled on of how they would cross the
brook as animals, and how they would be wiser
than all the other poor creatures, by keeping a gem
in reserve and change to themselves on the other
side.</p>
<p>Little could they guess of the troubles and adventures
that awaited them!<span class="pagenum">[18]</span></p>
<hr class="chapter">
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></SPAN>CHAPTER III</h2>
<p class="h3">THE BIRD-FAIRY SPEAKS</p>
<p>The children had been so busy chattering of fun
to come, that it was all of a sudden they realised
they were in a glade which looked quite enchanting,
and with so many daisies about that Dulcie
wanted to sit down and weave those they gathered
into a chain.</p>
<p>"Don't wait for that," said Cyril; "carry them
in my handkerchief."</p>
<p>But when he felt in his pockets the handkerchief
was not there. He must have dropped it. Dulcie
proposed that they should retrace their steps, but
sweet sounds of innumerable birds came from the
high trees around and filled the air—and they
stayed to listen to the concert of trills, chirrups,
gentle call-notes, cadences, and bursts of tremulous
song. And now, against the deep blue sky
hovered what looked like a cloud which suddenly
separated and descended, and the Twins found
themselves face to face with a most lovely being,
surrounded by a ring of exquisite little creatures,
who danced to the continuous music of the Wood<span class="pagenum">[19]</span>.</p>
<p>Cyril and Dulcie gazed at their beautiful companion,
who stepped towards them smiling graciously.
She looked like a lovely young girl.
Draped about her was a wondrous garment of
feathers of every hue. But she was strange indeed,
for her hands, clasped behind her, drew close
together two enormous wings which sprouted from
her shoulders and formed part of her white arms;
whilst upon her shapely head among her black
tresses was the aigrette of the peacock. Her
attendants had no aigrette, and their feathered<span class="pagenum">[20]</span>
draperies were of sober brown. They were much
smaller too, smaller even than the Twins.</p>
<p>"I am the Bird-Fairy," she said in cooing tones,
"and you are in need of advice. I can——"</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="z042" id="z042"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/z042.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="403" alt=""I am the Bird-Fairy," she said" title=""></div>
<p class="caption">"I am the Bird-Fairy," she said</p>
<p>"Not exactly, thanks. You <i>are</i> pretty!" stammered
Cyril, interrupting. "It's because—we
want to go our own way—at home we—" he
stopped in order to shake off Dulcie, who was
tugging at his jacket.</p>
<p>"If you please," asked Dulcie shyly, "what
advice?"</p>
<p>"It would be exactly contrary to the Wizard's,"
and the Fairy looked serious.</p>
<p>"Thanks very much," interrupted Cyril; "but
we do want to seek our fortunes—to go on our
adventures. It's a grand thing to do," he explained,
"specially for her—she's a girl. Besides,
we can't cross the Brook as children."</p>
<p>"Don't use those catseyes and it might be
possible; that is, if you are willing. Be warned!
Let me carry you quickly to the other side and
then run home," said the Bird-Fairy anxiously.</p>
<p>Cyril shook his head, so Dulcie shook hers.</p>
<p>"It's always 'don't,'" he muttered. "It's sure
to be all right, Dulcie," he said turning to her.</p>
<p>"Are you sure?" she inquired vaguely, with a
lingering glance at the Fairy, who had turned away
sadly.<span class="pagenum">[21]</span></p>
<p>"It must be if we keep that last change as we
arranged."</p>
<p>From the trees now issued forth sweet wood-birds
of many kinds—the air was thick with them;
they circled three times round the fairy ring and
then all flew away, and the children were once
more alone.</p>
<p>"Wasn't that beautiful? Ah!" sighed Dulcie,
looking after them, "I wish I could be one of
them and sing like them."</p>
<p>Hardly were the words out of her mouth when
Cyril began to stare about in amazement. His
sister was nowhere to be seen. Her disappearance
was so rapid that the earth might have swallowed
her up.</p>
<p>"Dulcie, Dulcie," he cried. "Wherever are
you? Come back at once when I tell you!"</p>
<p>Nothing stirred in the stillness except the waving
branches of the tall trees—and a little bird that
came and perched upon his shoulder and began
softly to trill into his ear what meant nothing to
him. He stroked its smooth plumage. His hand
touched something hard around its throat. He
parted the feathers and found—a golden circlet set
with catseyes, one of which was missing.</p>
<p>"Oh!" he exclaimed. "It's her!"</p>
<p>He was too flustered to talk grammar. "How
fearfully quick the change came about—only just<span class="pagenum">[22]</span>
a slight hint like that! I say! We <i>shall</i> have to
look out! I wonder how you like it, you pretty
little bird! I wish I could understand those chirping
sounds!"</p>
<p>Instantly he became like her—a lark. He
understood her at once, and the pair flew away,
singing gaily as they rose together, fluttering up
and up, soaring high and ever higher into the blue
azure of the cloudless sky.</p>
<p>Never was there such a blissful sensation as that,
flying heavenwards to the music of their own
making. Dancing at a party to the accompaniment
of a piano was mere ordinary child's play
compared to the invigorating delight of this new
experience. The earth looked like a map, and
they realised now what was meant by a "bird's-eye
view." After a time, still singing, they
dropped quickly down to earth. Then Cyril led
the way into the Wood, where they perched in
one of the highest trees; and they hopped about,
scanning their surroundings, and awaiting the
visits of other little feathered inhabitants whose
acquaintance they expected to make. In the
meantime they gleaned various scraps of news
from certain twitterings in the adjoining branches,
some of which they clearly overheard.</p>
<p>And it came as a shock that these twitterings
were mostly complaints about the scarcity of provisions;<span class="pagenum">[23]</span>
about starvation among the weak birds
who could not compete against the strong; about
the unfair scrambling for tit-bits which caused
grievous bodily hurt. Then a painful rumour was
discussed about poor little Mother Starling, who
had been taken unawares by a wild beast with
terrible whiskers who was seen to pounce upon her
and carry her off—and her husband, who still went
about vainly calling his mate and would not be
comforted. They heard how, in the hospitals
under the hedges, things were in a bad way—how
one patient was down with a broken wing, with no
hope of getting well in time to migrate; and of
others incurable, and resigned.</p>
<p>All this so depressed the two joyous young larks
that they flew some distance away, when through
the leaves they discovered in the tree next to them
nothing less than the beautiful Bird-Fairy reclining
asleep in the branches with her retinue of little
sprites in various attitudes all around her, their
shining eyes wide open, on guard.</p>
<p>The absolute silence proved too monotonous for
our lively pair. So away they flew again—miles
and miles away into the open country, enjoying to
the fullest freedom found at last, feeding in the sun-gilded
fields, drinking from the pools, bathing in the
sandy roads, and flying for all they were worth in
their youthful spirits. Life like this was life indeed!<span class="pagenum">[24]</span></p>
<p>Their happiness seemed complete, when a sudden
sense of horror struck them both at the
same moment, and hardly had they realised it
when they noticed something very large which
had been poised above swooping towards them,
striking terror into their souls as it came. It
was a sparrow-hawk, and death was upon them.
Instinctively they swerved out of its terrible
course, and commenced a series of short, zig-zag
flights, their eyes starting nearly out of their
little heads with fright. The enemy was strong
on the wing and remorseless in purpose. The
poor larks, with hearts fluttering wildly, were
becoming feeble and less alert. The next second
the hawk would seize one of its prey. The little
bird gave an agonised chirp, dropped like a stone
to the ground, and changed into Dulcie, affrighted
and panting for breath. She looked anxiously upwards.
Her pursuer, baulked, turned and darted
upon its second quarry. Too late! Cyril had
taken the strong hint, had also Wished, and now
stood in safety on the ground beside her.</p>
<p>"Come on!" he shouted to the surprised and
baffled enemy. "Come on now, and I'll wring
your ugly neck!"</p>
<p>But the bird didn't wait to accept his polite
invitation; and a moment later it was out
of sight, and out of mind, and the children<span class="pagenum">[25]</span>
found they were again alone in the beautiful
glade.</p>
<p>"I don't want to be a bird any more," said
Dulcie when she had recovered her composure.</p>
<p>"No, it's too risky," admitted her brother.
"When that big dark thing came in sight there
was so little time to think what to do. That
second, too," he added with a shudder, "when I
thought the brute had got you, was too awful!"</p>
<p>She felt quite important now at having gone
through such peril.</p>
<p>"I could never have imagined that birds had
such a lot to put up with," mused Cyril as they
walked on—"hunger and suffering, with the risk
any moment of being gobbled up!"</p>
<p>"There ought to be some one to take care of
the poor things," remarked Dulcie. "If it hadn't
been for the catseyes we should have been eaten
up and ended like that." She glanced at the
bracelet on her wrist and added, with a timid
look at her brother, "It seems safer as we are."</p>
<p>"Bosh!" he rejoined. "We want adventures.
That's what we're going for—and freedom. We
had a ripping time as larks—till the end. It certainly
wasn't very comfortable then."</p>
<hr class="chapter">
<span class="pagenum">[26]</span>
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></SPAN>CHAPTER IV</h2>
<p class="h3">THE LOST CATSEYE</p>
<p>Something was in their path; the Twins stooped
to examine it and found it to be a Hedgehog
standing on its hind legs, motionless, as though
waiting for somebody, and a smile was upon the
face of that Hedgehog. All at once a Porcupine
sprung up beside it, as if out of the earth, and
the two appeared on the very best of terms.</p>
<p>"I <i>must</i> get to know what they are talking
about," exclaimed Dulcie. "They seem to me to
be arguing about something interesting. Oh, I
do wish I could be all ears and understand them!
If only I were something as small as a mole!"
Before Cyril could remonstrate a mole she was,
went off blindly, and was quickly lost to view
amongst the thick brushwood.</p>
<p>"I say! I do call that <i>mean</i>," he complained.
"Without even so much as asking my advice
or saying good-bye. It's silly to become a stupid
mole; it's a waste of a catseye. And all on account
of a beastly spikey hedgehog and a beastly<span class="pagenum">[27]</span>
prickly porcupine. Halloa! Wherever have you
all got to?"</p>
<p>Out of humour, he looked right and left. They
were nowhere to be seen. "I hope she will soon
come to her senses!" he muttered. "It isn't
much fun being left like this."</p>
<p>He lay down on his back to await her, and
kicked up his legs in the air as a pastime, whilst
the tall trees above him waved their upper branches
in the breeze. His glittering bracelet caught his
attention, causing his thoughts to drift on adventures
past and to come. He looked harder at it,
and becoming concerned he carefully counted the
missing catseyes. He had only wished to be a
lark, and to be himself. Yet <span class="smcap">THREE</span> were gone!
The two first—and the <i>last</i> one! "Could this,"
he asked himself, "be some dreadful trick of the
Wizard's—likely to occur at the last?" Cyril
turned pale at the possibility. "Or could that
last one have become loose and got lost?" he
pondered. If so, he realised that it must be
found. The thought about the Wizard worried
him. He was uneasy, too, about Dulcie, and sat
up eagerly listening for her coming, and wondering
what he had better do.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, our little mole had groped its way to
a hole whence could be heard sounds of a quaint
voice. It was that of the Porcupine saying pretty<span class="pagenum">[28]</span>
poetry softly to the accompaniment of a slow
musical titter.</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"I'm a brave and dashing Porcupine—<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Strong, elegant, and dandy;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And you a Hedgehog, bright as wine,<br/></span>
<span class="i2">And sweet as sugar-candy.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Dear Hedgehog fair, say you'll be mine<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And wed the dandy Porcupine!<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Dear Hedgehog—bright as currant-wine,<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Take me—as strong as brandy,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Be Mrs. Porcupine, I pray—<br/></span>
<span class="i0">I've begged so often—don't say nay—<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Be Mrs. Porky, sweet and jolly.<br/></span>
<span class="i6">Nay—titter not,<br/></span>
<span class="i6">Or off I'll trot<br/></span>
<span class="i2">And straightway marry Molly."<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>"Ah!" he observed after a long pause, during
which the Hedgehog had remained silent and had
never moved a quill in response, "There goes
Molly the Mole!"</p>
<p>Molly the Mole, who had distracted his attention,
heeded him not, but went and struck up an acquaintance
with the little stranger in the hole close by.
For some time they remained in close conversation.
It was not at all an amusing conversation, as Dulcie
explained later, and she was not sorry when the
danger of a horse's hoofs galloping nearly on top of
them caused them to run off. They got separated,
and Dulcie was glad to bring herself again into the<span class="pagenum">[29]</span>
possession of her own five senses. Peeping from
behind a tree, she saw Molly and the Hedgehog
walking off together, leaving the Porcupine disconsolate.
And then she beheld a young girl with
short red hair dismount from her horse, walk back
rapidly towards some glittering object, and pick it
up.</p>
<p>Dulcie recognised at once the curious colouring
of a catseye. She glanced at the bracelet on her
wrist; all was in order there. Could it possibly
belong to Cyril? The thought became a certainty.
"Stop!" she called out loudly.</p>
<p>Too late—horse and rider were off.</p>
<p>"Stop! Stop thief!" shouted Dulcie as she ran
after them as fast as she could.</p>
<p>Now Cyril, who was not the soul of patience at
any time, had come to the conclusion that it was of
no use waiting any longer, and that it would be
better to be up and doing. So he got up and
pondered again and again what to do.</p>
<p>"Any way I'd better risk it and become a cat,"
he decided, "for like that I've more chance of finding
Dulcie, and of finding my catseye. It would be
useful to be able to see in dark corners. But I'll
search about as I am first."</p>
<p>He spent some time peering and searching in the
Wood. But without success. Neither Dulcie nor
the catseye was to be found.<span class="pagenum">[30]</span></p>
<p>Just then he heard a noise. He stepped behind
a tree, and peering round from behind it he beheld
not far off a young lady dismount from her horse
and pick up something. Cyril recognised it as his
catseye. He approached timidly to claim it, when
she leapt up and cantered off, evidently not seeing
or hearing the boy who was running, shouting with
lusty lungs: "Stop! Hi! Stop thief!"</p>
<p>Little did he know that his little sister, almost
exhausted, was further behind gasping out the same
cry—while big tears from helplessness and anxiety
were coursing down her hot cheeks. For the trees
hid the children from view at the distance they were
apart, as well as from the rider; and shout as they
would, their cries could not be heard by one another.</p>
<p>Cyril soon lost sight of the new owner of the
gem, and didn't know what to do, or where to trace
it, or, still worse, what had become of Dulcie. As
he came to a narrow footpath which branched off
from the main track, he went quickly along it in
the hope that it might prove to be a short cut to
somewhere. As it turned out he was lucky, for it
proved to be a short cut to a Town, and hardly had
he entered one of the streets than at the other end he
saw entering it the rider on her horse. He ran towards
her, but only arrived just as the girl with red hair
disappeared through the door of a large white house,
and the horse was being ridden off by her groom.<span class="pagenum">[31]</span></p>
<p>So Cyril sauntered on, anxiously meditating how
to get his belonging back. The present possessor
would never believe his tale, or if she did the less
likely would she be to part with a thing so valuable—and
then perhaps only for a hundred pounds. He
concluded he must take it—it was his—at least it
was more his than hers, and his life might depend
upon it. So he decided that the best thing he
could do was to change into a monkey, climb into
the house by one of the open windows, grab the
gem as soon as found, and escape as quickly as he
could.</p>
<p>But no sooner did the quaint little monkey stand
there than it was pounced upon by a dirty brown
hand, whilst a foreign voice exclaimed—</p>
<p>"Ah, ha! So dere you are, my leetle friend!
You shall not escape from me again so soon,
Jacko. Ah no!"</p>
<p>It was a ragged boy with a hurdy-gurdy, who
had caught hold of the little twisting, mouthing
creature and was already getting it into a miniature
soldier's coat with brass buttons. A ludicrous doll's
hat with a long feather upstanding was quickly produced
from his pocket, put on its head, and the
elastic slipped under its chin. A long cord was
whipped out, fixed to the red coat, and a sudden
jerk hitched up the whole arrangement on to the
barrel-organ in a twinkling.<span class="pagenum">[32]</span></p>
<p>Now Dulcie had also taken the short cut into
the Town, and was just going to enter a large
garden in order to rest her weary limbs after
her useless chase, when the boy and monkey
attracted her attention and she stopped. She
would have laughed, so comic was the sight, but
filled with concern at a rough jerk she cried:
"Oh, please don't. You'll hurt it. Do let it go!"</p>
<p>"Let go, signorina? Ah no! Me take care
never risk no more. No Jacko, then poor Pietro
starve. Just you watch him, then give poor
Pietro penny. Now, Jacko, we're 'ungry."</p>
<p>Had Dulcie only known the monkey was not
Jacko, but Cyril, she would have been still more
concerned. The lad turned the handle of the
instrument, and to its cracked tune she was
amused to see the monkey take off its hat with a
jerky movement, replace it, dance about, salute,
and perform other antics in the most approved and
undignified manner.</p>
<p>The boy pulled his forelock. After much
fumbling Dulcie found a penny and gave it to
him. A sunny smile was on his swarthy face as
he said "Grazia!" He kissed the monkey affectionately,
and putting it in the inner pocket of
his ragged coat, moved away.</p>
<p>And the monkey, peering out of that pocket,
blinked twice so meaningly at Dulcie that she<span class="pagenum">[33]</span>
stood there and gazed after it, puzzled, whilst the
boy trudged off whistling. Dulcie then found a
shady seat, and having nothing better or more
hopeful to do, determined to rest there. Now,
however, that she had leisure to think it over,
she didn't at all like the loss of that gem. Supposing
by some trick or other of that horrid
Wizard all the rest should drop out and not be
found—at some dreadfully awkward moment!
What would poor Cyril do? And she also might
come to be in the same plight! These thoughts
were too horrible! So she began saying some
poetry she had learnt in order to keep her mind
on other matters.</p>
<p>She wasn't enjoying herself very much. The
time seemed endless, and a neighbouring clock
which chimed the quarters didn't help it to pass
any faster; and the longer Dulcie waited, the
more anxious she became. She gave up reciting
poetry, or what stood for poetry, and her only
thought became: "If only Cyril would come
back!" In her fear she began to give up hope of
his ever coming back at all, and decided to try
and discover if there were such a thing as a
policeman about, to whom she might confide her
troubles.</p>
<p>Suddenly there arose a hullabaloo. Such a barking
and rushing, and the next moment a large<span class="pagenum">[34]</span>
black cat sprang on the seat beside her, frightening
her very much. There was a terrified shriek—a
gratified Wish—and Cyril found himself on a bench
next Dulcie with a great hound clinging to his
sailor collar at the back.</p>
<p>With a cry of fear she helped him in his
struggles to get free; the animal, astonished and
abashed, slunk away with its tail between its legs,
and the brother and sister fell into one another's
arms. Never before had they known how fond
they were of one another—for never had they been
so pleased to meet again.</p>
<p>"I waited so patiently," said Dulcie; she didn't
add anything about thoughts of a friendly policeman,
but inquired quickly—</p>
<p>"Do you know you've lost your catseye?"</p>
<p>He nodded and grinned.</p>
<p>"Have you got it?"</p>
<p>He parted his lips. It was between his teeth.
He pressed it back into the empty setting of his
bracelet, saying—</p>
<p>"I'd no time to wish sooner. I'll never set Towser
to chase our poor little Miranda again, you bet!
How horrid it must be to be a permanent cat!"</p>
<p>"However did you get it back?"</p>
<p>"Hallo! Hi!" was all she got in answer, and
the next moment he was pommelling into, and
being pommelled by, a lanky youth.<span class="pagenum">[35]</span></p>
<p>"I'll teach you—to shy stones—at a—poor
defenceless—cat," gasped Cyril, hitting out right
and left, his face scarlet, and his hair all ruffled.
How they did go for one another! First one was
down and the other on top; then the pair, all legs
and arms, were the other way up; then they rolled
together over and over, till at last Cyril had won
a brilliant victory before he allowed Dulcie to drag
him away from the defeated adversary, who, as
soon as he was free, slunk off miserably, with one
hand to his eye and his handkerchief to his
nose.</p>
<p>"I'm all right," exclaimed Cyril, in answer to
her anxious inquiry, shaking himself into order.
"That <i>was</i> a lark! No—I'm not hurt, not really.
Served him jolly!"</p>
<p>Dulcie noticed that he had a lump on his
forehead from the fray.</p>
<p>"I'm glad you won the fight with that boy,
but I don't know what it was about one little
bit. And, Cyril, aren't these adventures rather
too—too dangerous, don't you think?"</p>
<p>"Of course they're not, they're awfully jolly."</p>
<p>"Now tell me all about it from the very beginning,"
said his sister as they strolled off together.
So Cyril gave her a spirited record of his adventures
whilst she listened eagerly, anxious not to
miss a single word.<span class="pagenum">[36]</span></p>
<p>"I'll begin at the beginning," he said. "Well,
the funny monkey—me, you know——"</p>
<p>"<i>You</i>, Cyril?" and Dulcie gasped with surprise.</p>
<p>"Yes; don't interrupt, there's a dear. I quite
enjoyed my little performance on the organ before
you. But by the second and third time I had
to do it I got sick and tired of it. The weather
seemed to turn cold and made me shiver. Then
I got fearfully hungry—coppers were given me,
but no food did I get, and I felt I had had enough
of the business. The boy's pocket, too, was
draughty—there was a hole in it—besides which
I got the cramp. It wouldn't have been much
use trying to escape. Besides, the monkey idea
was all wrong, for people were passing all the
time, and, had they noticed a free monkey on
the track of a catseye, a crowd would have collected,
and perhaps that grinning idiot might have
gone for me again. I couldn't very well change
to myself inside of his jacket, nor during a performance
in public, as it might have attracted
attention. So I was obliged to wait for my
chance, which came at last when he picked up
an end of a cigarette and after begging a match
was busy lighting it at a sheltered corner. I was
on the pavement in a minute, managed to slip
out of my idiotic red coat to which the cord was
attached, flung off that absurd hat, and remembering<span class="pagenum">[37]</span>
my first idea I changed into a cat, calmly
sat down on the inner side of some area railings,
and peered through to watch the fun."</p>
<p>"Yes, and what happened then?" interrupted
Dulcie excitedly.</p>
<p>"Well, you never saw such a face as that boy's
when he found the monkey's coat and hat on the
ground without any monkey inside of them! He
said some foreign words and commenced running
about hunting for me everywhere, whilst I trotted
off before his very eyes. Ha, ha, ha!"</p>
<p>His sister pealed with laughter and delight.</p>
<p>"As quickly as possible I reached the big house
where I had seen the girl with the red hair go in
after she had picked up my catseye."</p>
<p>"I saw her pick it up, too," broke in Dulcie.</p>
<p>But Cyril went on: "The windows were still
open. I jumped up from the balcony on to a
stone ledge, and then by good luck right into the
bedroom of that bothersome young lady. She was
reading a book. We did startle one another!</p>
<p>"'Oh, you darling sweet pussikins!' she said.
'Ah,' I thought, 'not so darling as all that.'
And the next moment I was lifted clumsily on to
her lap and stroked and patted, whilst I looked
anxiously around for my catseye in the intervals—when
she wasn't kissing my nose, which was disturbing
and uncomfortable, and girls do like kissing<span class="pagenum">[38]</span>
so. Then I saw it gleaming on the dressing-table
close to the window all the time, and I became impatient.
The stupid baby language and kisses
bothered me, so I stopped it by giving her face an
ugly scratch."</p>
<p>"Oh, how rude!" exclaimed Dulcie, shocked.</p>
<p>"Whereupon she gave me an angry slap, which
I didn't feel a bit through the fur, and pushed me
down roughly on the floor, looked at her face in
the glass, and then I heard her bathing it in the
dressing-room. I say! had I changed then,
wouldn't she have been jolly surprised to find a
strange boy in there! So, remaining her darling
pussikins," he continued with a smile, "I just
jumped on the table, took hold of my catseye in
my mouth, and escaped by the window before she
returned, and waved my tail in good-bye—stupid
things, tails!" With a laugh, which was echoed
by Dulcie, Cyril, grown serious again, went on
with his narrative:</p>
<p>"But just as I alighted on the ground a boy
began shying stones at me, which it was awfully
difficult to dodge. One of them caught me such
a whack on the side, and he laughed and shouted
'Hurrah, got him!'—Wasn't I glad when I saw
him just now!—Well, I was just going to change
then, when there was a great barking, and a whole
lot of dogs seemed to be bearing down on me. I<span class="pagenum">[39]</span>
thought I'd make myself scarce, so I tore off, and
as they were on my track I simply cut. I flew
along the muddy streets with the whole pack at
my heels, with shouts and laughter ringing in my
ears, scampering past them, past houses, past traffic,
whizzing along for my life with the barking din
and the pattering feet always following. At last,
as a last hope, I dodged round, doubled back, the
noise stopped, and I took refuge in a quiet garden,
awfully puffed, and jumped on a seat next some one
resting there."</p>
<p>"Me," said Dulcie, with a sigh of relief.</p>
<p>"Yes, I found it was you, Sis. I Wished, and
you're a trump, for I was tired, and you rid me
of that big dog." Dulcie glowed with pride and
pleasure at that. "I never knew, though, that
that brute was following me. Fortunately for me
he gripped hold of the bracelet round my neck."</p>
<p>"How well you tell a story, Cyril," she said simply.</p>
<p>Cyril smiled contentedly. "That's nothing."</p>
<p>Then she inquired anxiously: "Do you think
it was the Wizard's trick, that losing of the stone?"</p>
<p>"P'raps," replied Cyril musingly. "He's quite
ugly enough for anything. But I don't think so,"
he added reassuringly; "it must have been an accident—got
loose, or something."</p>
<p>Dulcie's mind being eased, she then told her
own story as a mole. She couldn't remember the<span class="pagenum">[40]</span>
Porcupine's verses exactly, but she repeated what
she could, and they had a good laugh over them;—before,
she had been blind to the fun in them. "I
repeated them to Molly," continued Dulcie, rippling
over with fun, "and she was so offended she vowed
she'd never marry him. So I cured him of his
vanity—and serve him right!"</p>
<p>"But why did the Hedgehog titter? That was
what you wanted to find out, wasn't it?" asked
Cyril.</p>
<p>"I suppose it was expecting the Porcupine's
verses."</p>
<p>"Suppose?"</p>
<p>"I forgot to ask."</p>
<p>Cyril expressed his opinion that she had been
a softy, that those creatures weren't worth while
chumming up with, and they couldn't have much
sense, and it didn't matter, after all, what they
thought or did.</p>
<p>"I shan't tell you any more, then," replied Dulcie,
offended.</p>
<p>"Yes, do," begged Cyril, curious to know the
end. So after he had begged three times, she gave
way, and informed him she was glad never to have
been born a mole, for Molly was in terribly low
spirits and had apologised for them, but the reason
was because all her family's skins had been taken
off their backs in order to keep fashionable ladies<span class="pagenum">[41]</span>
from taking cold—as these ladies seemed to think
that it was a prettier and warmer skin than their
own. And Molly hourly expected each moment
to be her last—and advised her new-found friend
to prepare for the same fate—which was all very
terrifying. "So I made haste to wish to be my
own self again," concluded Dulcie.</p>
<p>Cyril made her promise faithfully never again to
run off like a mole or anything else, which—being
only too anxious to avoid another separation—she
willingly did.</p>
<p>"The poor animals," she remarked earnestly,
"all seem so helpless. There's no one ever to
take their part or help them."</p>
<p>"Ah, you think that because we've not yet
changed into something really great," answered
Cyril with conviction.</p>
<p>"What a gloomy looking place we've come to!
I was so interested listening and talking, I didn't
notice the way we've come," broke in his sister,
gazing at what appeared like a Jungle in front of
them. "Surprising how we got here, isn't it?"</p>
<p>"I never noticed either, but it'll do beautifully,"
replied the boy, quite satisfied.</p>
<p>"But it doesn't seem very nice to be a Beast,"
argued Dulcie reflectively, her thoughts harking
back; "somehow it's so unpeaceful."</p>
<p>"I tell you that's because we haven't tried<span class="pagenum">[42]</span>
anything great," repeated her brother with an
emphatic movement of his hand and a decided
toss of his head. "<i>If</i>," he said, and hesitated—"<i>if</i>
we were lions" (he waited, then finding they were
both as they were he went on, reassured), "then
we would know what it is to rule everybody, keep
our friends in order, and eat up our enemies."</p>
<p>"But I don't want to eat up any one," protested
Dulcie. "I think it would be very disagreeable."</p>
<p>"I should think it must taste rather nice—<i>they</i>
like it. Besides, one never knows till one tries,"
remarked her brother. "I want to be a <i>lion</i>!!"</p>
<p>At once the King of Beasts confronted Dulcie.
With a shriek she tore away as fast as her small
feet could scamper. Then she changed her mind.
And as a lioness, full of courage, she rejoined him.</p>
<p>Grand beasts they were as they bounded into
the Jungle with a mighty roar. Startled creatures
hurried out of their path, and the very landscape
appeared insignificant in their presence. Monarchs
of all they surveyed! This at last was splendid
freedom.</p>
<p>At a river, sparkling like glass in the burning
sun, they stopped and slaked their thirst, lapping
up the water greedily. Then they turned again
into the tangle of vegetation and laid themselves
down to rest.</p>
<p>Purring with delight in the hot sunshine, they<span class="pagenum">[43]</span>
lazily lashed their tails. The lion was just dozing
when he was roused by something heavy and strong
winding itself in great coils around his limbs and
body. He gave forth a roar half of anger, half
of fear. Struggle as he would he could not
free himself; it was a huge boa-constrictor that
was closing about him like bands of iron, and
was just about to crush him to death when the
lion disappeared and a little boy in a blue serge
suit wriggled away, sobbing out: "Oh, Mother!
Dulcie!"</p>
<p>Just then Cyril's eye caught sight of a rifle
pointed from a neighbouring tree. To his horror
it was aimed straight at the recumbent, lazily-blinking
lioness. His heart stood still with terror.
He could neither scream nor stir. Quite forgotten
was the huge reptile, which had jerked back
its head in astonishment at the remarkable disappearance
of its quarry, with an undulating
movement of surprise in that part of its anatomy
which might be termed its neck. But now the
creature was quite close to the lad and rearing
itself up to strike at him when—crack! crack!
crack! Bullets were whizzing all around. Cyril,
bewildered, stumbled over the dead body of the
reptile and fell to the ground. The next moment
he felt Dulcie's hair over his face as she pulled him
on to his feet.<span class="pagenum">[44]</span></p>
<p>"Great snakes!" exclaimed Lord Algy. Captain
Waring, who was eagerly peering through the
branches of another tree close by, laughed as he
rejoined, "Only one, my friend."</p>
<p>"Eh, what? Well I'm—" drawled his lordship,
craning his neck and letting his eyeglass
drop and dangle—he had stopped short in his
sentence, not seeming quite to realise what he
was. "By Jove!" he now added, "I certainly
thought I hit one of those two fine brutes; most
remarkable thing I ever saw in my life."</p>
<p>"<i>Didn't</i> see, you mean, my dear Algy," replied
the Captain coolly and not without vexation. "<i>I've</i>
seen a dead serpent before. Where have they
moved to? that's the question: we shall have to
track them again. A dead snake in the grass is
not worth two fine lions in the Jungle."</p>
<p>"No, my dear fellow, I don't think so either—I
agree with you there—it's quite the contrary,
of course," remarked his lordship with a certain
amount of energy.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, Dulcie and Cyril, with white, scared
faces, were fleeing hand in hand like pixies among
the trees.</p>
<hr class="chapter">
<span class="pagenum">[45]</span>
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></SPAN>CHAPTER V</h2>
<p class="h3">IN THE FISH-KING'S REALM</p>
<p>It was only when they reached a meadow full of
wild flowers, and the Twins, worn out with their
long run, lay down to rest, that Dulcie remarked
with a sigh of relief—</p>
<p>"We never do seem to be so safe as when we
are us!"</p>
<p>"We won't be Birds nor Beasts any more,"
replied Cyril. "Hark! What's that snoring so
loud?"</p>
<p>"It's not snoring. I believe it's the waves!"
Saying which Dulcie jumped up and Cyril did the
same. The children found the meadow they were
in was on a cliff, and that below were far-reaching
sands, and in the distance heaved the glorious deep
blue sea.</p>
<p>They clapped their hands and danced with
delight, and when that performance was over they
carefully descended the steps cut in the face of the
cliff which led down to the shore.</p>
<p>Very soon their shoes and stockings were slung
round their necks, and they were running over the<span class="pagenum">[46]</span>
hot sand to where the wavelets came rippling to
meet their little feet.</p>
<p>So immersed were they in paddling that it was
a little time before they noticed some one sitting
amongst the rocks which peeped out of the surface
of the ocean a short distance away. A hand was
beckoning to them, and thinking it might be some
one who wanted help, Cyril declared he would
go to the rescue, and began to wade towards the
spot.</p>
<p>Dulcie, fearful of his going alone, and not
wishing to be left behind in the adventure, hurried
next to him. The current was rather strong and
the water got deeper as they went; but they
didn't think of their clothes (which were no longer
wholly dry), but only of the rescue. When they
reached the rocks they found to their surprise
a very quaint figure calmly seated there, who
motioned them in a very grand manner to a place
on each side of him. "Pray be seated. Good
morning!"</p>
<p>"Good morning!" exclaimed the visitors politely,
taking the places indicated.</p>
<p>"Good afternoon!" said the Fish-King. "Do
you mind holding my crown one moment, my
dear?"</p>
<p>Dulcie took it with awe. He was a very fine
gentleman indeed, and the two children couldn't<span class="pagenum">[47]</span>
help staring at him as he smoothed his hair in
silence. He was short and stout, in a costume not
unlike that of Harlequin in the pantomime, only
the colouring was green and blue. His goggle
green eyes and wide, down-drawn mouth made
him look comically like a carp, whilst the pointed
wisp of white beard on his chin and the four long
white hairs he was winding round his bald head
were not really an improvement to his appearance.</p>
<p>"Thank you kindly, my dear," he said as he
took his crown and put it on. It was beautifully
made, entirely of the loveliest small shells, and
when he wore it he looked every inch just what
he happened to be.</p>
<p>In spite of his queer face, the two visitors felt
quite at ease with him, and were sure that with
such a pleasant voice, too, he must be very nice
indeed.</p>
<p>"What are you King of?" inquired Dulcie
with a friendly smile.</p>
<p>"Of the fish," he answered, patting her cheek.
"I'm right glad to see you."</p>
<p>Suddenly remembering, the little couple at once
donned their shoes and stockings as a sign of
respect.</p>
<p>"It's very healthy, I suppose," remarked Dulcie,
"living out at sea like this?"</p>
<p>"I suppose so, my lady," answered the Fish-King<span class="pagenum">[48]</span>
drily. Dulcie liked being called "my lady."
"Except," he continued thoughtfully, "for an
occasional attack of shingles I don't ail much."
Then turning to Cyril he asked: "How's that old
rascal of a Wizard? laughing in his dressing-gown,
eh?"</p>
<p>"I'm sorry I don't know, your Majesty," replied
the boy, surprised at the question and the way it
was put.</p>
<p>"You will soon get to know me. I only hope
you may not be disappointed. You certainly
wouldn't have been disappointed with my ancestor."</p>
<p>"Who's your ancestor?" asked Dulcie bluntly.
"Was he a King-fisher too?"</p>
<p>"Not at all. He was Neptune."</p>
<p>"Where did he live?"</p>
<p>"In Imagination."</p>
<p>"Where's that?"</p>
<p>Cyril raised his eyebrows at her lack of manners.</p>
<p>"You turn to the right," answered his Majesty
patiently, with a gesture that way, "follow your
nose, mount a hill north of the Fore Head, and
there you are. See?"</p>
<p>The Twins couldn't think what answer to make—though
he seemed to expect one—so they gave
a little nervous laugh.</p>
<p>"Just see, there's a dear boy," said the Fish-King<span class="pagenum">[49]</span>
kindly, in order to change the subject—"just
see if you've got a copy of the <i>Financial Market</i>
about you, will you? Or maybe you know what
the Financial Time is? That would do quite as
well. Oh, beg pardon—I see you've no watch on;
pawnbroken, eh?"</p>
<p>"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean; I've
never heard of all that," admitted Cyril.</p>
<p>"But you <i>have</i> heard there's been another
slump!"</p>
<p>"What?" ventured Dulcie.</p>
<p>"In what? Why, in Seaweed, of course. Just
my luck. Fishy transactions never do pay, though
they always promise to. But," he added, rousing
himself, dismal still, "you must both come down
soon and have a cup of sea or something—it's my
birthday, and there's going to be jinks below."</p>
<p>"Birthday! How delightful!" said Dulcie.</p>
<p>"Why, how old can you possibly be?" asked
Cyril, "if it's not impolite to ask."</p>
<p>"Quite right. Let me see," said the Fish-King
thoughtfully. "Ah, now I remember. I'm just
several millions of years—it takes a little time to
fix the number exactly—and eleven days."</p>
<p>"That <i>is</i> old, Sire," murmured Dulcie as she
regained her breath, which had been taken away
at the idea of so many birthdays.</p>
<p>"Old? Nonsense, my lady."<span class="pagenum">[50]</span></p>
<p>"How can it be 'and eleven days' if it's your
birthday, your Worship?" asked Cyril, thinking
he'd go one better than Sire.</p>
<p>"Because, my Philosopher, I prefer the new-fangled
Calendar which puts one on eleven days;
in that way, when I'm told I don't look my age, I
know it's true, and not flattery. See?"</p>
<p>The children were not quite satisfied with the
explanation. Nevertheless, they were pleased to
find it the most natural thing in the world to be
getting chummy with a Fish-King.</p>
<p>"Now, do come below waves and have a cup of
sea or something," he repeated, looking appealingly
first at one and then at the other.</p>
<p>"Thank you very much," replied his little
guests. "But," said the cautious Dulcie, "sha'n't
we be drownded?"</p>
<p>"You both have your catseyes on, I presume?"
And his Majesty stared anxiously in their faces.
"Yes, I see you have. Very well, then. Sit steady!
Halloa there," shouting downwards. "Lift, please!"
Then muttering, "It's high time we went," he
smiled. His smile was so unutterably comic that
it was to a merry burst of childish laughter that all
the rocks descended as quickly as the tide rose
above them, and the trio, smiling still, found
themselves gently deposited at the bottom of the
Ocean.<span class="pagenum">[51]</span></p>
<p>"Wonderful thing water pressure!" remarked
the Fish-King. Then, helping them off the rocks,
he added with a gracious wave of the hand,
"Welcome to my Domain!" And the Twins
bowed so prettily that he appeared much gratified.</p>
<p>"Ah!" he said, taking them by the hand and
stopping still, "I see Fido. Fido, Fido!" At his
call a fine dog-fish came forward at a fast swim;
and its head was patted graciously, whilst its tail
wagged with contentment. "Now," resumed his
Majesty, "we'll go to the Revels;" and they proceeded
at a smart walk as buoyantly through the
clear water as through air.</p>
<p>The sea-scape was perfectly beautiful, but as the
Fish-King once more seemed deep in melancholy,
the Twins gazed silently around. They were
evidently walking along the King's Road, for it
was wide enough to walk three abreast; the sand
was so fine and glittering that it looked like gold
dust; the path was bordered by exquisite shells.
On either side were gardens of variegated anemones.
Here and there an old sodden boot lay about untidily,
at which the Fish-King frowned and looked
uneasy. They passed oyster beds, where, besides
oysters, all sorts of fish, large and small, were fast
asleep, breathing heavily with their mouths wide
open. Now and again a squadron of lobsters or
jelly-fish would confront them, and respectfully<span class="pagenum">[52]</span>
divide and wait until the royal procession of three
had passed through.</p>
<p>At last they came to a great object ahead which
turned out to be a sunken ship, and the children
heard the Fish-King say: "Welcome, my dears,
to my home! I hope your visit to 'The Billows'
will please you." They eagerly assured him it
would, for they felt certain they were going to have
a jolly time.</p>
<p>On board everything was most snug and trim;
and in the large saloon he led his two little guests
to one end of the long table, where they found
biscuits, tinned meats, jam, and other nice things,
which they enjoyed very much, whilst their host
looked on with a satisfied expression.</p>
<p>"<i>Now</i> will you take a cup of something?" he
asked—and seemed relieved when they declined
with thanks. "I'm a seatotaller myself," he observed;
"I don't drink like a fish, nor go in for cups."</p>
<p>"I'm glad we said 'No, thank you,'" whispered
Dulcie to Cyril, who nodded assent. "Why are
you so sad, Mr. Fish-King?" she asked when she
had satisfied her hunger, and she stroked his great
flabby hand.</p>
<p>He didn't answer for a moment, then trying to
twist up his mouth into a smile he said as he roused
himself: "I fear I'm somewhat glum for a birthday
party, but I've had so many of them; besides, I'm
<span class="pagenum">[53]</span>bothered about the slump! One would think Seaweed
safe enough for a vested interest, surely.
From all accounts, they must have been cooked—softly,
too, in the bargain! Can you make it out,
my dears?"</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="z076" id="z076"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/z076.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="488" alt="Its head was patted graciously" title=""></div>
<p class="caption">Its head was patted graciously</p>
<p>The Twins couldn't understand it at all, and
shook their heads quite emphatically over the
matter.</p>
<p>"Now, let's go abaft," suggested his Majesty.
He rose, and looked at them with a ray of cheerfulness.
"We'll watch the Water Sports. I revel
in them when they are good—usually they go bad."</p>
<p>The children readily agreed. "It's lucky you
happened to come on my birthday," he continued,
"for you may be amused. Here's a list of the different
Courses," and he took up a Menu from the
table: "they'll race through them like old boots!"</p>
<p>"Do they race better than new ones?" inquired
Cyril.</p>
<p>"They've more experience," replied his Majesty.
"What is about to begin," he said quite gaily as
they followed him up the gangway, "is—let me see;
ah yes—'Turtle Mocked.' Now just look at Fido"—he
leaned over the side, the Twins did likewise.
"He's turning turtle!" And the three watched
with approval the antics of the dog-fish as he
turned his somersaults; and they applauded this
first item on the programme.<span class="pagenum">[54]</span></p>
<p>"Next Innings!" shouted his Majesty. "Fish
balls bowled," he read from the Menu. And taking
their plaice, a game of cricket began. "They think
they can play," he whispered, "and that is the way
I humour them, or they might begin to cry, and I
hate anything that reminds me of blubber. But how
can any one in their senses imagine plaice fielding
at slip? Why, they don't know cricket from a
bat—nor never will at this rate, I should think."</p>
<p>"Once in London, we saw such a lot of fish in
the big shops there," volunteered Dulcie in a burst
of confidence. The next moment she wished she
hadn't spoken, for Cyril was frowning at her and
shaking his head. She glanced timidly at the Fish-King.
He evidently didn't mind, for he merely remarked
with a sigh: "Ah dear! One of these days
my poor subjects will be sucked from the sea
through a 2d. tube, straight to Billingsgate—I
suppose that'll be the time for slumps and no mistake!"</p>
<p>"I suppress the Sole and Eel Course!" he
cried suddenly. There was a great stir in the water
at this intimation. "It's a dance," he muttered.
"Let's get on with the Cod Stakes." He put down
the Menu and threw overboard some nets and fishing
tackle. Then began a highly amusing exhibition
by old fish showing the young ones how to nibble
the bait without taking the hook, and if taken by<span class="pagenum">[55]</span>
some mischance, how to get unhooked—how to
avoid the nets, and other life-saving dodges which
his Majesty explained to the astonished Twins.</p>
<p>But hardly had he finished when a fat young
gurnet who was taking part in the sports did get
hooked, and clumsily extricating himself went off
leaving a thin red track behind him.</p>
<p>"The poor thing is hurt!" exclaimed Dulcie.</p>
<p>"Oh no," said the King; "a herring-bone stitch
is all that's necessary."</p>
<p>"I know how to do that," replied Dulcie, "but
I thought it was only used to make dress things
look pretty; I never heard of it for mending fish."
The excitement continued unabated.</p>
<p>When the revels were over, the little strangers
expressed their enjoyment of the birthday party,
and thought perhaps they ought to be saying
good-bye. Their kind host wouldn't hear of
their going yet—they hadn't even seen the Cable
which he was just going to visit.</p>
<p>"Who's won the prizes?" asked Cyril as they
got off the ship.</p>
<p>"I have," replied his Majesty.</p>
<p>"Not the winners of the races and of the
sports?" said the boy, in amazement.</p>
<p>"They can't expect to win the races and win the
prizes too. <i>I</i> have won the prizes."</p>
<p>"What have you won, your Worship?"<span class="pagenum">[56]</span></p>
<p>"I forget," he answered vaguely. "I've won so
many in all these years, and they get so mis-laid—for
all the world like addled eggs!"</p>
<p>"But you've only just—" commenced Cyril.</p>
<p>"Don't tease," said Dulcie, pulling at her
brother's sleeve. And so the matter dropped.</p>
<p>Whilst Cyril and the Fish-King were talking
about the price the crown might fetch were he
obliged to part with it on account of his recent
financial losses, Dulcie was so busy admiring
the beautiful creatures swimming about, that she
stumbled and fell before her companions could
warn her that the Cable was lying in her path.
She was soon up, and it was the Fish-King now
who was lying prone on the ground, but his attitude
was intentional; he was listening intently.
At a sign from him they did likewise. The billows
overhead were lashing up the spray, and
through the rushing sound could be vaguely
heard: "Number A. 1. Sea Power! Has that
nice little venture proved successful, Sire?"</p>
<p>It was the Wizard's voice. The Twins stared
at one another with startled eyes.</p>
<p>"No, thou Cabalistic One," shouted the Fish-King,
and got up with an impatient sigh, so he
didn't hear what sounded like the echo of mocking
laughter which the children recognised before
they rejoined him. "Some one's at the bottom of<span class="pagenum">[57]</span>
that business, I'll be bound," he grumbled. "I'm
afraid I'm too green, and ye gods and little fishes
alone know how I manage to be, for I've a fit of
the blues often enough," and he glanced at the
garment he wore. "Now come and inspect my
Workhouse." He led them away in silence to a
small lugger, also wrecked, commandeered by his
Majesty.</p>
<p>"What a lot of residences you have, Sire,"
remarked Dulcie timidly, realising the situation.</p>
<p>"One must, if one is a royalty," he replied. "I
have even more than the German Emperor. I've
one for eating in. One for thinking in. One for
not thinking in. And a host of others. There is
one which takes me eighteen hours to reach, where
I go at cradle time, where the waves hush me to
sleep with their lullaby—you have heard it—'Rocked
in the Cradle of the Deep,' eh?"</p>
<p>"Yes, yes," assented the Twins readily.</p>
<p>His glum face slightly relaxed, then he continued:
"It's always a matter of interest to me when my
ship comes home. I don't whistle for it; I squall
for it. Look out for squalls, for I feel restless, and
in my family carping is our form of humour."</p>
<p>Once inside the cabin of the lugger the Fish-King
took an immense ruler, and sitting upon
the table in front of a high heap of foolscap
began ruling one wave after another. Absorbed<span class="pagenum">[58]</span>
in his occupation, his mouth tightly drawn down,
he looked more than ever like a carp. He kept
on ruling the waves, heeding neither the little
coughs, the little fidgetings, or the little hints,
entreaties, regrets, or excuses of the Twins, until,
exasperated at his sudden and unaccountable oblivion
to their existence, they murmured broken
words of thanks for his past kindness, and, not a little
indignant, they walked out of the cabin, jumped
over the side of the ship, and swam upwards. They
met many a quaint creature, and then diving below
they rested in a quiet spot again amongst beautiful
shells—at last in peaceful calmness at the
bottom of the sea, alone with the heaving waves
palpitating far above them.</p>
<p>Talking over the strange conduct of the Fish-King,
it occurred to Cyril that the fact of parting
from them risked reminding him of blubber, which
he hated, as he had told them before, so he must
have preferred ignoring them altogether, especially
as he had work to do. But Dulcie thought perhaps
they might see him again when he was not so busy.</p>
<p>"It must be rather jolly being a crowned head,"
mused Cyril; "I vote we have a shy at another
catseye, so as to have a gorgeous crown and boss
everything and everybody."</p>
<p>Dulcie, dazzled at such a magnificent prospect,
readily agreed.<span class="pagenum">[59]</span></p>
<p>"I wish I were a crowned head!" exclaimed
Cyril excitedly.</p>
<p>"I wish I were a crowned head!" repeated
Dulcie with fervour.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="z084" id="z084"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/z084.jpg" width-obs="503" height-obs="423" alt="They met many a quaint creature" title=""></div>
<p class="caption">They met many a quaint creature</p>
<p>They stared at one another. No change had
come. Dulcie was the first to understand their
failure.</p>
<p>"Of course not," she remarked. "How stupid
of us! It's a Bird, Beast, or Fish we have to
choose, not a crowned head!"<span class="pagenum">[60]</span></p>
<p>So her brother, to change the subject, drew her
attention to an eel that was trying to turn head
over ... wriggling in a very upside down
fashion. Tired of watching it, they lay chest
downwards, and, supporting themselves on their
elbows, kicked up their own heels.</p>
<p>"Do you believe there is such a thing as a Sea-serpent,
little Sis?" inquired Cyril lazily.</p>
<p>"I believe there are sometimes, when they are in
season."</p>
<p>"Well, I can tell you there are <i>not</i>. And the
only season they <i>are</i> in is the Silly Season. Father
says so."</p>
<p>"It's so lovely down here, and you're spoiling it
all, Cyril, by arguing. I do think it would be nice,"
she added, glancing round, "to be an oyster and have
a real pearl! I wished I possessed a real pearl!"</p>
<p>"Shut up," cried Cyril. But to his annoyance he
found his sister already gone, and a stupid-looking,
closed-up oyster in her place, out of which he could
not get a glimmer of satisfaction.</p>
<p>"You <i>have</i> shut up and no mistake!" he said
severely, "in the middle of a conversation too."
However, she was soon at his side again, and looked
very sorry.</p>
<p>"Well, what was it like?" was his laconic welcome,
accompanied by a glance of disapproval.</p>
<p>"Not at all nice. I didn't want to remain<span class="pagenum">[61]</span>—although
I possessed a magnificent pearl. I felt so
horribly ill—as though I had some dreadful disease.
What a life pearl-oysters must have if they feel like
that!"</p>
<p>"I've heard pearls <i>is</i> a disease."</p>
<p>"Then how horrid of you to let me have it. You
ought to have told me."</p>
<p>"How could I? You were in such a hurry. I
couldn't do anything. You were just the same over
that wretched mole. I do wish you wouldn't go off
like that again; you know you promised you
wouldn't."</p>
<p>"I forgot. But it's the Wishes that go off so
quick."</p>
<p>"I say! Where was your bracelet, Dulcie, when
you were an oyster?"</p>
<p>"Don't know," she answered, pondering. "I
s'pose it must have melted. Oh yes, of course I remember—it
had grown very small, and formed a sort
of little boundary all round me inside my shell; it's
here all right now. I can't think—let me see, what
were we talking about before I went away? There
was something I was going to tell you. What <i>were</i>
we talking about, Cyril?"</p>
<p>"Sea-serpents."</p>
<p>"Oh yes. Well, I was going to tell you, there
must be Sea-serpents, 'cos you remember it being in
the papers and our seeing a picture of one."<span class="pagenum">[62]</span></p>
<p>"But that was all stuff and nonsense."</p>
<p>"No it wasn't."</p>
<p>"Well, look here, we'll soon find out, little Duffer.
I wish I were a Sea-serpent!"</p>
<p>"I'm not a Duffer, after all," was Dulcie's first
thought as Cyril vanished into what looked like the
end of a wriggling tail—a tail so long that it stretched
right out of view, and she realised this must be part
of her own brother. It was slowly moving away.</p>
<p>"Don't go and leave me," she cried appealingly,
clutching hold of the great scaly thing. But it moved
quicker, dragging her along. So, in her anxiety she
clambered on top of it, sat down, and found to her
surprise that its undulating movement of progress
formed a regular switchback, and that she was travelling
along its back towards its head in a most pleasant
and delightful manner.</p>
<p>"What a funny thing to happen!" And she
laughed. "But whatever will occur when I get to
the end! And what yards and yards of him there
seem to be!"</p>
<p>All this she wondered and heaps more, till at last
she saw the creature's huge neck looming high up in
front of her; when she got there it stopped her progress.
It turned its head round—which resembled
that of a giraffe—and its mild eyes looked kindly at
her; and what was most comic, yet comforting, it
wore a nose-ring of gold set with catseyes.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="z088" id="z088"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/z088.jpg" width-obs="323" height-obs="600" alt="What a glorious ride that was!" title=""></div>
<p class="caption">What a glorious ride that was!</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[63]</span></p>
<p>She patted its neck affectionately; and then with
a mighty glide of long duration the huge creature
took her up, up, until, with her still on its back,
gracefully reclining against its neck, the Sea-serpent
arose with her above the surface of the Ocean.</p>
<p>Certainly, no one now would have taken them
for twins.</p>
<p>What a glorious ride that was! Nothing around
but the wild surging spray, the wind blowing in her
face, brightening her cheeks, and tossing her fair hair
about. Above, the clouds, dark and heavy, tore
along—everywhere movement, reckless, turbulent
movement.</p>
<p>What a wild ride it was!</p>
<p>Far, far in the distance appeared a dark speck. As
it came nearer it turned out to be a ship with broken
mast, broken by the waves which leaped over its
deck again and again. People were on it, for shouts
came from it borne along on the wind.</p>
<p>A fearful squall arose as from the very bosom of
the Ocean. Lightning played around the doomed
ship. Half blinded by it, and bewildered by the
deafening noise of thunder, Dulcie just caught a
glimpse of the Fish-King in the water near, before
burying her face in her hands to escape the blinding
glare of the second flash. Starting suddenly
at the terrifying clap of thunder that followed, she
lost her balance and fell off the Sea-serpent's back<span class="pagenum">[64]</span>
headlong into the surging waters. For some time
she was tossed about, sometimes swimming, sometimes
floating, enjoying the excitement of the
thing, knowing she couldn't drown, and expecting
every moment to see something of her huge brother,
when all of a sudden she found herself right in the
middle of a shoal of fish.</p>
<p>She was startled to find, too, that like them, she
had been caught in a large net from which, swim
and search as she would, she could find no means
of escape. Restlessly with her fellow-captives she
turned this way and that in vain hope of freedom.
She knew she must be adding to the salt water
around, for she felt so miserably helpless and lonely,
and a heavy sob now and again escaped her. Here
indeed was a lack of freedom and no mistake, for
the poor fish as well as for herself! Never, never
again, she said to herself, would she beg for fish for
tea if this was what they had to endure. Round
and round inside the net she swam, backwards, forwards,
upwards, downwards—no outlet was there.
If only she could find the way she got in! The
thread was so hard and strong, too, that she could
do nothing, tear at it with her little hands as she
would. She had nothing sharp about her either,
not even a pin.</p>
<p>The sea became calmer by degrees, but Dulcie's
anxiety grew, and her impatience with it, till the<span class="pagenum">[65]</span>
sound of men's voices from above raised her excitement
to fever pitch.</p>
<p>"Oh dear, oh dear! It must be the fisher
people!" And the thought that the little swimming
creatures darting about in terrified jerks
would soon be motionless for ever, helped to increase
her distress.</p>
<p>"Hold hard, Bill. Ain't it heavy!" said a gruff
voice.</p>
<p>"My missus won't be sorry," answered his mate.</p>
<p>The net was actually being hauled up, and Dulcie,
beating against it with her arms and struggling
hard, was being hauled up with it.</p>
<p>Her sleeve had got rucked up—the catseyes
glistened.</p>
<p>"I wish—oh what? I can't think—to be something
very small indeed—oh quick!"</p>
<p>No change occurred. She could now see the
boat and the men's stooping figures.</p>
<p>"Oh please, I want to change—I want to be
one of—no, I forgot, they can't get out either—I
wish I were a—a——"</p>
<p>"Holy St. Patrick!"</p>
<p>"Bless me, what's that?" exclaimed both men,
glancing down at her.</p>
<p>"—A periwinkle!" gasped Dulcie faintly.</p>
<p>The next second the little girl disappeared from
their view and the fishermen rubbed their eyes and<span class="pagenum">[66]</span>
stared at one another with their mouths open. The
big fishes and little were quick to seize that golden
opportunity of their captors' careless handling of
the net—and escaped, down to every jack sprat of
them. And with the gentle murmur of the sea
there mingled noisy and ugly words of baffled hope
and disappointment.</p>
<hr class="chapter">
<span class="pagenum">[67]</span>
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></SPAN>CHAPTER VI</h2>
<p class="h3">THE MYSTERY OF THE CRAB</p>
<p>At the base of that Cliff where the wild flowers
grew, the golden sands were still bathed in hot
sunshine, and roughly caressed by the incoming
waves. Upon the crest of one of these a Periwinkle
was borne, and tossed, and flung, until it
was landed high and wet on a soft bed of seaweed.
But not for long—for very soon a little girl arose
from that bed of seaweed, smoothed back her
clinging hair, and cried out with joy as she recognised
her surroundings. It was Dulcie, glad to be
herself once more, and on the same beautiful sands
again; and her first thought was of course for
Cyril.</p>
<p>She was dripping wet. To wipe her face she
took out her handkerchief, which of course was wet
also. In order to dry it she tied it to a piece of
stick; thus it could serve as a flag, too, which she
could wave to attract Cyril if he were about that
coast, and show him where she was.</p>
<p>Remembering that, according to some wiseheads,
sea water kindly gives no chills, she had no<span class="pagenum">[68]</span>
fear for herself; so she lay down upon a patch of
nice warm pebbles, of which she took a handful,
and began idly throwing them one by one into the
tide, which was running up to her feet faster than
it retreated at the ebbing of the waves.</p>
<p>She was beginning to tire of this pastime when—plash!
the last stone she threw fell plump into a
sandy pool, out of which there hurried an enormous
Crab. Dulcie was frightened, for the ugly creature
had espied his disturber and was coming towards
her at a quick amble, sideways. She turned and
fled towards the Cliff, and a turn of the head
showed her that her dreadful pursuer was not far
behind. Up the arduous steps she climbed, stumbling
every now and again in her hurry and excitement—those
steps down which she had tripped so
gaily with her brother. Again she turned to look
behind her, this time with a feeling that here she
must be safe.</p>
<p>But the great Crab was coming up the steps too.
Flushed and gasping, she arrived at last on top of
the Cliff amongst the wild flowers once more.</p>
<p>There, too, over the top appeared the terrifying
creature. It was seemingly quite fresh, and was
gaining rapidly upon her, for now she was quite
tired out.</p>
<p>She could run no more. So poor Dulcie turned,
and facing her pursuer, she cried<span class="pagenum">[69]</span>—</p>
<p>"Oh, please, please go away—oh <i>do, please</i>!"</p>
<p>But the ugly Crab never lessened its pace one
bit; it came nearer and nearer—so close that she
could notice how it was shaking all over; and how
repulsive—till—till she saw that it was wearing
something glittering around its body—a band of
gold with one last catseye and the others all gone.
It <i>must</i> be Cyril. Why didn't he change?
Dulcie couldn't imagine. The creature stopped
motionless, and tears were dropping from its ugly
eyes.</p>
<p>"What can be wrong?" cried Dulcie with a
sob of horror and fear. But she conquered her
fear now that she was persuaded it was Cyril,
and she approached still closer. She stroked it—actually
stroked it—and although it was just a
great horrid Crab the expression it wore was heart-rending.</p>
<p>"It's the Wizard's trick!" she exclaimed suddenly.
"Poor Cyril's last catseye won't work!"
She never thought how many <i>she</i> still had, for
she was weeping bitterly over her brother in this
dreadful guise, and she could hardly wonder what
the end would be, if this indeed were not the
horrible end of all.</p>
<p>"Oh, Cyril," she sobbed, addressing it. "Oh,
Cyril, how dreadfully changed you are! Whoever
heard of having a crab for one's brother<span class="pagenum">[70]</span>
If only we had remained Twins all this never
could have happened!" And she walked round
and round it, wringing her hands in despair. But
evidently the poor quaking thing was powerless
to give a shred of comfort, and its whole appearance
was helpless and hopeless in the extreme.</p>
<p>"It's no use stopping here like this," she decided
at last; "we'd better go on," and not quite
thinking what she was doing, she whistled to it,
as she whistled to Towzer, and they moved slowly
forward—Dulcie, red-eyed and dejected, and the
Crab following her at a side-way amble.</p>
<p>The strange pair had not proceeded far when
Dulcie musingly muttered—</p>
<p>"I wish I were a crab too, then of course I
should know all that has happened!"</p>
<p>Strange to relate, she didn't turn into a crab, but
remained a little girl as usual. She might have
sought the reason of this had not a sight arrested
her attention which caused her to run forward
with a cry of joy. It was the sudden appearance
of the Bird-Fairy, in whose outstretched hand there
glistened a jewel—a catseye; but how different was
its gleam to the one the poor Crab wore. "Take
it," she said hurriedly in her pretty soft voice—"and
listen: I have wrested it from the Wizard,
whose magnetic power succeeded in recovering
one unused, though he had tried for several."</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="z098" id="z098"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/z098.jpg" width-obs="543" height-obs="580" alt="She stroked it—actually stroked it" title=""></div>
<p class="caption">She stroked it—actually stroked it</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[71]</span></p>
<p>"Why did he do it?" interrupted Dulcie innocently.</p>
<p>"Because he wanted to confuse me, and also to
add one more to his dreadful Zoological Collection.
Now replace the stone quickly and give me the
sham one—for it belongs to the red-haired young
lady, and is stolen property."</p>
<p>The child busily and anxiously obeyed her
directions.</p>
<p>"Stolen property?" repeated Dulcie in surprise.</p>
<p>But the Bird-Fairy had flown away and disappeared.
The Crab had disappeared too. Cyril
stood before her, white and trembling, and the
next second his little sister was safe and snug in
his arms.</p>
<p>For some time the Twins sat silent, huddled
close together on the variegated carpet of clover,
and cowslips, and poppies, and bluebells.</p>
<p>"That <i>was</i> awful!" exclaimed Dulcie at last.
Cyril shivered.</p>
<p>"You saw the Bird-Fairy; did you hear what
she said?"</p>
<p>"Yes, I understood what she said—I s'pose I
understood 'cos she's a Fairy."</p>
<p>"Well, what do you think of it, Cyril?"</p>
<p>"I dunno; floors me completely. All I know
is that I shouldn't like to go through that scare
again."<span class="pagenum">[72]</span></p>
<p>"It was very kind of her, wasn't it?"</p>
<p>The boy nodded thoughtfully and answered—</p>
<p>"Yes, and I wonder why she did it!"</p>
<p>Now Dulcie thought of it, he looked quite dry.
She felt his knees, according to her custom, after
his being out in the rain—he certainly was quite
dry. She said how surprised she was that he
should be so.</p>
<p>"How did you manage it after being in the
pool?" she asked.</p>
<p>"It must be running in the sun," he explained.</p>
<p>It had done the same for her, and her serge
frock was none the worse for the sea water. By
degrees they cheered up. They were so happy
to be together again on that lovely Cliff, with the
sea beyond sparkling so cheerfully in the bright
light as though it wanted to share in their renewed
gaiety.</p>
<p>"Cyril," said Dulcie, "I'm longing to hear what
happened to you when we were parted so suddenly
in the Ocean during that awful storm."</p>
<p>"All right," replied Cyril promptly. "When
I looked round and found you were not on my
serpentine back, I didn't know where I was when
you went overboard, and therefore didn't know
a bit where to search for you. I changed into a
crab so as to move about in a small space and
more easily for the purpose. I dodged the nets<span class="pagenum">[73]</span>
which were about—I had learned the lesson we
saw given during those sports——"</p>
<p>"I wish I had paid more attention," sighed
Dulcie.</p>
<p>"And was washed ashore," continued her
brother, not heeding the interruption, "right into
that pool where stones came whizzing around; it
was rather beastly. I'm getting used to have
stones shied at me, but that last one was the
best aimed, and caught me a good crack on the
back of my shell and nearly startled me out of it;
it quite startled me out of the water. At the
same moment I caught a glimpse of your handkerchief
with the blue border, and of you racing
off full pelt. I wished to change to myself—nothing
happened. I couldn't make it out. I
wished till I was red all over. Still nothing—nothing.
Then I had an awful feeling that it
was hopeless and I was in the Wizard's power."</p>
<p>"Poor Cyril!"</p>
<p>"Then I tore after you, shaking with fright as
much as you were. I thought you were too frightened
to look at me; and that you'd never do so
and never recognise me."</p>
<p>"But I did!"</p>
<p>"And you saved me, dear little Sis!" Cyril had
grown quite pink in the face, and was trying to
keep back unmanly tears.<span class="pagenum">[74]</span></p>
<p>"Did you, too, see the Fish-King during the
storm?" she interrupted, to change the subject.</p>
<p>"Yes. But he didn't get that ship he was after,
for I stuck my huge self between him and it, and
switchbacked myself when he clung to me, like one
of those bucking horses, so he had no chance."</p>
<p>"Did he recognise you, do you think?"</p>
<p>"How could he? I didn't look much like the
Philosopher he knew."</p>
<p>"How about that ship?"</p>
<p>"I was glad to see it right itself and drift away;
the cries stopped, and the passengers pointed in my
direction so excitedly."</p>
<p>"Perhaps they were grateful," suggested his
sister.</p>
<p>"Or perhaps they thought it was I who had
caused them to toss."</p>
<p>"But our host—it was scarcely fair to him."</p>
<p>"He didn't seem to mind. He simply dived
down and disappeared."</p>
<p>"Now, those people," said Dulcie, "if you saw
them, they must have seen you, and therefore"—with
a wise look—"therefore they are sure to
put you in the newspapers."</p>
<p>"What a lark!"</p>
<p>"And people who read about it are sure not to
believe there was seen a real live Sea-serpent, and
wearing a nose-ring, too! And then I s'pose they'll<span class="pagenum">[75]</span>
all be duffers, eh, Cyril? And it'll be called the
Silly Season!"</p>
<p>Dulcie laughed, and Cyril laughed too, but something
out at sea just then caught his eye. He
jumped up excitedly and began waving his arms
about frantically.</p>
<p>"Look! look!" he shouted.</p>
<p>Dulcie, kneeling by his side and shading her eyes
with her hand, saw that old clump of rocks again,
and upon them stood his Majesty the Fish-King
waving his crown at them. The tide rose higher
and higher. He made three low bows in their
direction—Dulcie fluttered her handkerchief and
curtsied, Cyril bowed his best—the Fish-King
made a final gesture of farewell, the Twins kissed
their hands; his Majesty put his crown firmly on
his head with a smack, and disappeared with the
rocks beneath the surging spray. And they felt
they would never see him more.</p>
<hr class="chapter">
<span class="pagenum">[76]</span>
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></SPAN>CHAPTER VII</h2>
<p class="h3">THE MAGIC BRACELETS</p>
<p>"How nice it is to be one's very own self again!"
observed Dulcie contentedly. "I don't think I
told you, Cyril, that a star-fish stared so rudely at
me and said something about 'a Winking, Blinking,
silly Periwinkle,' which upset me very much
at the time, but now it does seem absurd," and she
laughed. Then she told of her escape from the
net, and Cyril got very excited at her imprisonment
within it, remarking it was a jolly good thing <i>her</i>
last catseye had proved all right or she would have
remained a Periwinkle for ever.</p>
<p>"Oh, Cyril!" she exclaimed, catching her breath,
"I never thought of that—was it my last? That
idea never came to me in the net; I never thought
at the time to see how many were left. Why!
Wherever is my bracelet!"</p>
<p>"I say! Where's mine?" cried Cyril.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">The Magic Bracelets were gone.</span></p>
<p>The children looked at one another, aghast.</p>
<p>"I remember now," she exclaimed in awe-struck
tones, "wishing to be a crab so as to keep you<span class="pagenum">[77]</span>
company, and know the mystery, and I was too
miserable to think about the real Wishes—and
never noticed or thought about not having changed—and
oh! if <i>I</i> had happened to have one catseye
only, <i>I</i> should have changed into a horrid crab and
remained one for really ever and ever!"</p>
<p>"Oh, bother. What's the good of going on like
that, Sis?" said her brother impatiently, for her
voice verged very near a whimper. "Much better
smile and thank your stars you're only a girl. Now
what shall we do? You suggest something, Dulcie."</p>
<p>"Go home," was her prompt reply, wistfully and
not without anxiety.</p>
<p>"Yes, but it's all very well to say 'Go home';
the only way back must be the way we came, and
you know what that means; even if we can find it."</p>
<p>From Dulcie's looks she evidently didn't relish
the prospect. The very idea of the Wizard made
her tremble.</p>
<p>"I must say," continued her brother, "I don't
know how we're going to manage it. We can't, so <i>he</i>
said, cross the Brook—and you could see he meant
it. So it's impossible, unless we roam about till we
grow older, and then we shouldn't know the exact
date when we leave off being children under ten."</p>
<p>"We shouldn't know the date at all," said
Dulcie disconsolately; "we don't even know what
time it is now."<span class="pagenum">[78]</span></p>
<p>"It feels like tea-time," remarked Cyril.</p>
<p>"Oh no, the sun's too hot for that."</p>
<p>"Let's go through our changes and see if we
can make it all out," said Cyril; "that's the first
thing to do."</p>
<p>They went carefully through their various experiences
from the beginning.</p>
<p>"I counted there were ten in each bracelet, so we
ought each to have five catseyes left, instead of
none and no bracelets at all!" he concluded miserably.
And they were both full of trouble. But
soon, Dulcie exclaimed—</p>
<p>"Why, we <i>are</i> Billies! We must count five
more for getting back each time into our own
shapes."</p>
<p>Of course, there had been the mistake, and the
fact being brought to light proved a great relief.</p>
<p>"Still," said Cyril, "we ought to have been more
careful, and saved two for the end; then we could
have crossed the Brook as animals or something and
taken our own shapes again on the other side, as
we'd made up our minds to do."</p>
<p>"Ah, but perhaps we shouldn't have had the
power on the other side," remarked his sister.</p>
<p>That was a new view of the case. The children
were perplexed.</p>
<p>"Anyway, we're in a nice fix," replied Cyril.</p>
<p>Then they decided it was no use stopping there,<span class="pagenum">[79]</span>
especially as Cyril said he wanted his tea badly—so
the only thing was to find their way back, and
try and dodge the Wizard if they could. They
wandered off, not particularly hopeful, and very
nervous. Cyril thought he should know the way
once they found the Bird-Fairy's glade. Dulcie
took his arm, and they walked on in silence, which
she broke at last.</p>
<p>"I wish some one would come and take care
of us!"</p>
<p>"I wish some one would bring me my tea!"
said her brother.</p>
<p>"I wish some one would come and tell us what
to do!" sighed Dulcie, who had begun to find out
that it was of no use relying absolutely on Cyril
any more. "If only we were at home!"</p>
<p>"I'll try to take you there, so cheer up, do,"
answered the boy sturdily.</p>
<p>The sea breezes were gone. The Twins had
reached the Jungle. To give themselves courage
he whistled "Rule Britannia" and she hummed it,
but held his arm very tight, and every now and
then looked furtively around. There was no sight
or sound of anything living. Nevertheless, they
hurried on, until they broke into a smart run, and
ran, and ran.... They halted abruptly. Cyril
hadn't the slightest idea whereabouts they were,
or which direction to take. It was no use asking<span class="pagenum">[80]</span>
Dulcie if she remembered; she only shook her head
disconsolately. When they fled from the Jungle
before, they had been far too scared to notice anything
at all in the way of landmarks.</p>
<p>"We've got to get out of this and reach the
Town," observed the boy thoughtfully; "and then
we've got to get to the back of the cave."</p>
<p>"But, Cyril, you've forgotten that after the Town
comes the Wood, and then that horrid place."</p>
<p>"So I have. Well, it's quite impossible, that's
all—out and out impossible." His face was growing
very red.</p>
<p>"Don't you remember, Cyril, my saying how
gloomy this place looked when we entered it the
first time? Well, it looks gloomy enough here
for anything, so it may turn out all right, and after
all, we may be near to where we entered. Come
along—it really does seem brighter over there. The
Town may be quite close."</p>
<p>It certainly was brighter beyond. But no streets
were there. Instead, to their bewilderment, the
little travellers found themselves already in the
daisy glade once more. They were positively in
the beautiful Wood again. The first object that
caught their eye was something white. It was
Cyril's lost handkerchief which Dulcie picked up—it
was a brand new one—and tucked it in his pocket
at once.<span class="pagenum">[81]</span></p>
<p>"I say, isn't it curious how I've brought you
back so easily?" remarked her brother.</p>
<p>"It must be some short cut you found—by
accident," replied his sister decisively. And that
settled that. In the absolute silence which had
reigned around, a peculiar rustling now attracted
their attention. Dulcie hung back, and Cyril held
her hand as he advanced cautiously. They came to a
sudden standstill as, from a clump of trees, a tall
figure in a yellow satin gown emerged and confronted
them.</p>
<p>"Pray walk in!" said the Wizard, and taking
the boy and girl by a hand he led them—not
through the Wood and along the country road—but
somehow straight through the back entrance
into his Cave Dwelling.</p>
<p>"I'm so pleased to see you again," remarked
their host, smiling as he took off his spectacles and
scratched his nose with them. "I see you've not
found freedom yet! Ha, ha! Pray make yourselves
quite at home."</p>
<p>Out of his satchel he drew forth the two bracelets
in which were no catseyes.</p>
<p>"Used them quite all, I see!" he remarked
blandly. "These others, poor things, thought they
could change back the other side of my domain!"
And the Wizard laughed most unpleasantly loud—just
like his knocker.<span class="pagenum">[82]</span></p>
<p>"Please, sir," ventured Dulcie coaxingly after his
hilarity was over—"please, sir, do let us go home."</p>
<p>"But your brother—I'm sure he wouldn't be
satisfied."</p>
<p>"Indeed I would," said Cyril.</p>
<p>"Tush! Nonsense!" exclaimed the Wizard. "<i>I</i>
never say 'Don't' here—so you are going to live with
me and be oh so happy and free! free to do everything
I tell you. You would have been more useful
as a Crab. But now you shall <i>both</i> tend my
little Zoological Collection—they are not always so
still, oh no! You shall help me do my tricks. You
shall help me ruin that fishy old King; and help
me keep that Bird-Fairy in order till she shall rue
the day that she ever tried to——"</p>
<p>The Twins heard no more. Locked in one
another's arms they had suddenly sunk down in
placid slumber. The astonished Wizard stopped
in his flow of eloquence. He walked round and
round them. His face grew blacker and blacker,
whilst the Twins slept calmly on, Dulcie's head
resting peacefully on Cyril's shoulder.</p>
<p>"Well I'm blessed!" muttered the Wizard, "or
should be if I weren't so...."</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="z112" id="z112"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/z112.jpg" width-obs="404" height-obs="600" alt="Taking the boy and girl by a hand, he led them" title=""></div>
<p class="caption">Taking the boy and girl by a hand, he led them</p>
<hr class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum">[83]</span></p>
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></SPAN>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
<p class="h3">THE SPELL—AND HOW IT WORKED</p>
<p>The poor children felt as though they had come
under some gentle influence, and curiously enough,
though outwardly asleep, they were conscious of
the Wizard walking around them, pushing and
pinching them, which somehow they never felt;
and they were conscious, too, that he was troubled
about something. What it was they couldn't
imagine. He began to mutter threats coupled
with the name of the Bird-Fairy.</p>
<p>The Wizard was clearly not at all happy. Indeed,
he was profoundly concerned—for every time
he touched the children to wake them, a sensation
of cold spread over his hands which became rapidly
more and more acute until it felt like touching fire,
and he shrank back muttering and grumbling.</p>
<p>At that moment there was a great rush of air.
The Bird-Fairy appeared, and with outspread
wings she stood over the resting children, and, full
of pity, she gazed down at them. Then they knew
they were in her care, and they knew, too, that <i>they
knew something which might prove useful and precious</i>.
And they smiled happily as they lay there.<span class="pagenum">[84]</span></p>
<p>"What do you want here?" demanded the
Wizard harshly. "How dare you come here and
try to thwart me?"</p>
<p>"I have come to pray you to turn from your
evil ways. Let these poor children go," begged
the Bird-Fairy in tones sweet and pleading. "They
have realised how much their happy home means
to them and the safety there is in being taken
care of. Let them go back to it."</p>
<p>"Tush! Nonsense! What's all that to me?
Begone while I let you! I'm in no mood to be
trifled with."</p>
<p>"Show kindness and mercy for once," was her reply.</p>
<p>"What? Go! You remain to mock me? Remember
my little Zoological Collection. Which
of us triumphed throughout?"</p>
<p>"Don't boast of that."</p>
<p>"But there is much to boast about. And my
experiments have not stood still since that remote
period. Science has progressed!"</p>
<p>"You will not be merciful?"</p>
<p>A scornful laugh was all the reply he vouchsafed.</p>
<p>"Then know," she continued solemnly, "that
our Fairy Enchantments have also strengthened
with time."</p>
<p>"Is it to be another tussle between us?" inquired
the Wizard, smiling.</p>
<p>"It is. And I pray it may be for the last time.<span class="pagenum">[85]</span>
I have failed before. But this time I am going to
succeed. With the girl my difficulty was not so
great, but the boy has been hard to convince that
other creatures have troubles greater than his.
Others have returned to you through your craft,
but this little couple you were forced to go and
meet. You sought to entrap the boy as a Crab—it
was I who restored the gem and saved him, as
you may have guessed. And with that success
the Bird-Fairy's hour now has come! You have
failed to snare them as Bird, Beast, or Fish—your
science can change mortals to nothing else. And
now you shall fail to turn them to slaves."</p>
<p>Again the Wizard's discordant laughter was
heard, and he said—</p>
<p>"You certainly got hold of that gem, my dear—and
you evidently consider yourself in consequence
an apt pupil of that old Fairy who befriended you—worse
luck to her! had she but passed a moment
later there would have been no time to frustrate
me. My science would have been powerful enough
to change you into a mere Bird. My Collection
would have been the more valuable, and she could
not have made you into a Fairy besides; nor
would you have known enchanting arts with power
to torment me; nor would you have had any hope
of future freedom."</p>
<p>The Wizard paused a moment, then rasped out<span class="pagenum">[86]</span>—</p>
<p>"Were it not for your own salvation perhaps
you wouldn't be so ready to help the children, and
to dare attempt to triumph over me. But we shall
see what progress we have both made!"</p>
<p>"We shall see!" she repeated. "Touch these
dear children if you can. You find it difficult?
You do not understand it, eh?"</p>
<p>The Wizard, with a groan of pain, had leapt back
after another attempt.</p>
<p>"I soon shall understand it," he cried angrily,
taking up a bottle containing a green fluid, a few
drops of which he poured into his palms, then
smiled. "This will wake them quickly enough,
and probably never let them sleep again."</p>
<p>But the only result was a louder cry of pain
from him and a peaceful snore from them.</p>
<p>The Bird-Fairy looked steadily at him, and the
Wizard trembled with anger and fear. Recovering
himself he muttered: "You've got them well
under your wing. So it must be with you I have
to deal first. Ah, ha! I'll show you how Science
can outdo your paltry old-fashioned arts!"</p>
<p>Thereupon he took a curious box-shaped mechanism,
pointed it at the Bird-Fairy, pressed a
spring, and instantly the pretty trio became enveloped
in a halo of rainbow. The next moment
the wings of the Bird-Fairy drooped, and the
children awoke. Her Spell was broken!<span class="pagenum">[87]</span></p>
<p>He moved his terrible invention slightly, so that
she alone was encircled by the rainbow ray. She
stood there motionless like a beautiful statue; and
the Bird-Fairy was in the Wizard's power!</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="z118" id="z118"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/z118.jpg" width-obs="506" height-obs="420" alt="The wizard, with a groan of pain, had leapt back" title=""></div>
<p class="caption">The wizard, with a groan of pain, had leapt back</p>
<p>A few moments more and his triumph would be
supreme and everlasting. She would exist no more.
His evil heart thumped with excitement and glee.</p>
<p>A continuous and regular movement around the
cave, and an underground heaving and low, distant
rumbling arrested the Wizard's attention.<span class="pagenum">[88]</span>
He gasped and started, and the instrument he
held fell from his grasp and shivered to atoms.</p>
<p>The Twins were the cause. It was they who
had started the commotion. Unobserved by the
Wizard in his moment of exultation, freed by
him from the Bird-Fairy's Spell, they were free
to follow the irresistible inclination they felt when
they were under it. So they gently stroked each
of the animals around, and were charmed to find
that as they did so each poor creature changed
to girl or boy and vanished from its prison, whilst
the ground trembled and the rumbling became
louder and louder, as though some unseen power
was helping in the rescue. So quickly did they
run round on their task that at the moment when
the Wizard realised his mishap, just as he thought
he had triumphed, Dulcie and Cyril had done
their work. They started as they saw the Wizard
lying full length on the ground next to his shattered
invention, the rays of which were let loose
and playing like lightning all round him.</p>
<p>Then they remained rooted to the spot with
amazement, for just beyond was the Bird-Fairy,
who before their astonished gaze became suddenly
bereft of her wings and covering of feathers, and
now stood before them as a lovely Princess, in
draperies of silver tissue, and with a golden circlet
upon her dark hair. A happy smile was on her<span class="pagenum">[89]</span>
face, as with a farewell gesture she motioned the
children away.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN name="z120" id="z120"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/z120.jpg" width-obs="509" height-obs="437" alt="Lying full length on the ground next to his shattered invention" title=""></div>
<p class="caption">Lying full length on the ground next to his shattered invention</p>
<p>There was a terrific noise as of a thunder-clap.
They looked back. Nothing but a dark cloud was
there!</p>
<hr class="tb">
<p>"Come quick!" cried Dulcie, taking Cyril's
hand and running off with him; "there's no
shelter here. Let's get in before the rain."<span class="pagenum">[90]</span></p>
<p>And away they sped from the rocks on which
they had so often played, reached home, ran indoors,
and got upstairs just before the big drops
turned into a heavy downpour and came pattering
against the nursery window-pane.</p>
<p>"Are you children ready?" called up their
mother in her kind, cheery voice. "Come down
and have tea with me for a treat."</p>
<p>It was a welcome invitation. They were quick
to shout their thanks and to make themselves tidy.
When they entered the parlour, where the sun was
peeping in again after his absence, their mother
said quietly—</p>
<p>"I'm glad you've escaped the storm."</p>
<p>Later on, they all three sat in the gathering
twilight at the large bow-window watching Nature
going to sleep. The two children sat up very late
that night—and they told their mother such an
extraordinary story that she wondered how ever
it could have got into their heads; and wondered
where they could have read it. But they knew
they hadn't read it.</p>
<p>"Look at the bump on Cyril's forehead!"
exclaimed Dulcie, as conclusive evidence of the
fight. But their mother only shook her head.
Cyril often wore such marks of battle.</p>
<p>"And, little Mother, we <i>are</i> so glad to be at
home." She laughed. But they meant it.</p>
<hr class="chapter">
<span class="pagenum">[91]</span>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_OLD-FANGLED_FATHER_AND" id="THE_OLD-FANGLED_FATHER_AND"></SPAN>THE OLD-FANGLED FATHER AND HIS NEW-FANGLED SONS</h2>
<p>Centuries ago, an old father—as old as one of
them—lay on his couch feeling that his end was
near. He was not surprised; in fact, he had
foreseen it as he had foreseen many other events.
And he was reputed wise beyond his years, and
therefore far beyond those of the people who
reputed it.</p>
<p>So he called softly to him his three sons. They
didn't hear him, being busy in different parts of
the house; and it never occurred to him to ring
the bell, because he was so old-fangled. He
shouted to them, and they came.</p>
<p>"I have three things to say to you," remarked
the father solemnly.</p>
<p>The sons fidgeted visibly; they had been
studying, were not at home to any one, and
particularly had not wished to be disturbed in
their work. They thought that their father was
going to begin another anecdote, and it put them
out of humour; but they were startled when he
said<span class="pagenum">[92]</span>—</p>
<p>"My sons, my end is near."</p>
<p>Each one replied with an endearing term—just
one, for they were not men of many words. And
they told him "it was only his fuss." That he
was "only a hundred, and didn't look as if he
were going to be cut off prematurely." "That
he mustn't give in and should never say 'die.'"</p>
<p>"I cannot argue the point," replied the old man.
"Let me tell you my last wishes as briefly as I
can, for my time is short."</p>
<p>They tried to dissuade him from talking so
much, but it was of no avail, for he protested
that it was their duty to listen to him, and he
insisted upon having last wishes as he had read
that others had had before him, and it would be
for the sons to obey and unravel them as best
they could.</p>
<p>Then the father, addressing the eldest, who was
ambitious and already past middle age, spoke as
follows:—</p>
<p>"My son, my first-born, find out the furthermost
summit of the world, and when you have
surmounted that, you can surmount anything."</p>
<p>To his second son, who was avaricious and also
getting old and rather bald, he said:—</p>
<p>"Sit patiently, and wait, and when you can
hear a voice that comes from no living throat,
and can see its traces, you will want for nothing."<span class="pagenum">[93]</span></p>
<p>To the third son, and consequently his favourite,
who was romantic, being better looking and naturally
younger than his elder brothers, the father
spoke thus:—</p>
<p>"You, my son, who are the pride of my heart,
the joy of my life, the light of mine eyes, search
the atmosphere till at your bidding it showers
down burning stars; then shall you go to the
beautiful Princess who awaits you, and live
without labour."</p>
<p>And the three brothers murmured under their
breath:—</p>
<p>"Poor old dad! He's certainly very unwell."</p>
<p>But he had not yet finished.</p>
<p>"Try to realise your ambition, my sons," he
continued. "I have shown you the ways you
should go. Then, and only then, will you have
earned that priceless jewel—Contentment."</p>
<p>The old man then composed himself comfortably,
and died a few years later, after a sharp
attack of senile decay, leaving many regrets and
unsettled accounts behind him.</p>
<p>When that happened the three sons were very
sad all day and all night. The very next morning
they called to mind his last wishes of a few
years ago, and decided to ponder over them, give
them the benefit of their doubt, and see if anything
could be made out of them. And they<span class="pagenum">[94]</span>
stuck manfully to their resolution, especially as
the creditors were hourly expected.</p>
<p>The eldest son looked up all the maps and
geography books he could get hold of, and studied
them until he came to the uncomfortable conclusion
that he would certainly risk death by sea and
cannibals many times before he could hope to
reach the furthermost summit of the globe.</p>
<p>The second son sat and waited for the voice he
was both to hear and trace, until at night he gave
up in despair. So he decided that the only voice
worth listening to was that of common-sense.</p>
<p>The favourite son, meanwhile, went for a long
walk, bent on success, and, unlike the others,
full of a new hope. Yet, search as he would,
he could find no spot where the atmosphere
changed into stars at his bidding, and he returned
home long after dinner-time disconsolate
to his supper of soup which had grown cold.</p>
<p>The next morning the three brothers arose in
disappointment and vexation of mind. They
murmured loud and long at having been sent
on fairy-tale errands in a world where no clever
talking animals really existed, or kind-hearted
inanimate objects volunteered to befriend them
on impossible quests.</p>
<p>As the first-born explained:—</p>
<p>"If I were to coax my parrot and ask him to<span class="pagenum">[95]</span>
help me in return for my many years of kindness,
as they do successfully in fairy stories, he would
bite me for my pains, as he always does whenever
I feed him."</p>
<p>And the second-born said:—</p>
<p>"If I were to fondle a pin and said, 'Ah, pin!
canst thou help me in my distress?' ten to one
I would get pricked, and serve me right for being
so imbecile."</p>
<p>"As for me," exclaimed the romantic one,
"were a gentle wolf to find me mooning about
the forest thinking of my beauteous Princess,
surely would he stop and, with a keen sense of
the fitness of things, he would not trifle with
politeness, but he would eat of me as much as
would satisfy his present need—perhaps even
more than he could digest."</p>
<p>And the brothers laughed aloud in the splenetic
bitterness of their three souls.</p>
<p>Another year went by. The sons had paid
their father's debts and made some on their own
account; so they held a council, and they confessed
that they had idled so long because they
were haunted by the rosy promise their father's
words held out, and, do what they would, they
could neither forget them nor yet find any solution.</p>
<p>Then together they pondered and thought, until<span class="pagenum">[96]</span>
one fine day (all the rest about that time had been
wet) they concluded that as they were not believers
in fairy tales, science perhaps might help them.</p>
<p>So they worked and worked and worked, each
with his own object. They certainly did not lack
brains, or test-tubes, or electric wire, yet just as
certainly did they lack money; and, but for the
occasional doing of menial work, they would have
starved and starved and gone hungry.</p>
<p>At last the eldest son solved his mystery. Now
could he surmount the furthest summit of the
world, for he had invented a machine which could
carry him soaring like a bird over mountains and
over seas.</p>
<p>And the second son solved <i>his</i> mystery. Now
he could hear a voice that came from no living
throat and yet could see its traces, for he had
invented an automaton that could speak and could
record its words with a stylus upon tablets of wax.</p>
<p>And the third son solved <i>his</i> mystery. He had
searched the atmosphere, and now at his bidding
burning stars were showered down, for he had invented
a kite fashioned on a wonderful wire, which
went through the air and drew forth electric sparks.
And his heart burned with love for the beautiful
Princess whom he knew awaited him, though by
this time she must be getting on.</p>
<p>The excitement of the brothers was great. "It<span class="pagenum">[97]</span>
is our genius we can thank!" they exclaimed all
in three breaths. "Our father, steeped in his old-fangled
lore, never could have foreseen our triumphs.
He never could have guessed how we should solve
his posers." That was their conclusion. Then they
shook hands all round, congratulated one another,
and went their different ways.</p>
<p>The eldest flew off, mounted upon his wonderful
air-steed, amid the gaping of the astonished
villagers, and his two brothers looked after him
wistfully until he disappeared far away behind the
clouds. The hopes of the traveller rose ever higher
and higher as for weeks and months he soared on,
exhilarated beyond all imagination. At last he
came to the furthermost summit of which his dear
father had spoken so solemnly. Over it sailed the
son as easily as a bird. When crack! the machine
broke and collapsed, and the unfortunate inventor
was hurled headlong into the sea, and every
moment threatened to be his last, but wasn't. As
he floundered in the water he looked annoyed, and
he murmured to himself:—</p>
<p>"There must be some mistake. Who can truly
say that I have found Contentment here?"</p>
<p>Meanwhile the second son had borrowed a
camel and gone off with his precious automaton
to the great city, there to reap the reward of his
labours. All the way he reckoned how he could<span class="pagenum">[98]</span>
best enjoy the vast sums of gold which would be
poured into his lap. And he came to the conclusion
that to gaze at it would give more pleasure
than to spend any of it, except just a little for
coffers to keep it in. He laughed aloud in anticipation.
Arrived at his journey's end, he unpacked
his treasure and set it working, and was
forthwith lodged in prison—for the city turned out
to be as narrow-minded as it was great, and it assured
him that he must be a wizard. He assured
it he wasn't, and proved that he didn't believe in
fairy tales, for he had not relied upon them for
help. But it was of no avail; there was nothing
more to be said. This disappointing ending to so
much effort and such real success encouraged him
in the conviction that in the position in which he
found himself he could find no legitimate ground
for Contentment.</p>
<p>During this time the favourite son had sallied forth
singing in search of the beauteous Princess. His
marvellous kite was slung behind him. He wended
his steps toward the only Court he knew of, where
dwelt a Princess good, beautiful, and unmarried—a
combination of charms of marked rarity. So joyous
and merry was he, that the squirrels squeaked and
scurried away at sight of him, and the very hyenas
laughed in harmony as he passed by singing, "Tra-la-la!"
in his blithe lightsomeness. Ah, how gladsome<span class="pagenum">[99]</span>
and thrice happy was that merry, merry
morn!</p>
<p>Now the Princess sat in the vast hall of the palace
turning up her nose at the stream of suitors that
promenaded in front of her, very bored and weary
at the continuous routine. But she never seemed
to tire of it in her certainty that "the right one"
would put in his appearance at the right moment.</p>
<p>She was a very spoilt lady indeed; there was no
one to gainsay her. Indeed, so spoilt was she, that
every night she would cry for the stars, and blame
the skies for being selfish and not sparing her a
few when they knew (for she had often told them)
that she wished to wear them in her hair. And
every one said how illogical it was of her, and no
one told her they were too large for practical
purposes.</p>
<p>One bitterly cold night, whilst she was sitting
thus at her open casement, bemoaning the selfishness
of the skies, and heedless of everything else, a
mighty hubbub arose outside.</p>
<p>"What ho!" called the pretty Princess. Her
attendants came tumbling in to her in their eagerness
to answer her summons.</p>
<p>"What's without?" she inquired.</p>
<p>Nobody knew, and tumbled out to get to know.
They rushed back and told her all at once that a
brand new suitor had arrived at that unusual hour,<span class="pagenum">[100]</span>
and would she snub him at once or tarry till the
morrow? It took her a little time to unravel what
was said amidst such a babel of voices.</p>
<p>"La! Oh my!" suddenly exclaimed the Princess,
her eyes riveted outside on the blackness of
the night. She could scarcely believe her senses,
for there, in her garden, stars were actually falling
down in showers, lighting up the figure of a man
who, with upstretched hand, was beckoning them
to come!</p>
<p>He was summoned at once to the royal presence,
shivering and blue with cold; but his romantic
heart throbbed at the sight of so much beauty,
and his face assumed a warmer hue. He was so
intoxicated with delight that afterwards he could
never quite tell how it all came about. As in a
haze, he remembered the Princess greeting him as
the one long awaited; he recollected her saying
that as he could wrest the stars from the selfish
skies, he could gratify her desire to wear some in
her hair, and bade him go collect them.</p>
<p>He explained his invention. She grew impatient.
He told her the electricity would kill
him. She shrugged her shoulders and insisted.
He declined to take the risk. Whereupon she
turned into a fury in her pretty illogicality, and
exclaiming that he must be the wrong man after
all, she flung his invention into the fire and ordered<span class="pagenum">[101]</span>
him to be flung after it. He took the hint by the
heels and fled through the window, far into the
night.</p>
<p>Not at all Content with his romantic adventure,
or with life as a whole, he enlisted and became a
target in the front rank of the army.</p>
<p>It was, of course, some time later that the eldest
brother—who had been plucked from the billows
by a fisherman who happened to be passing by as
usual—booked his passage home, and found on
his arrival that the said home had been sold, as
advertised, for building lots in eligible plots on
easy terms, to pay expenses.</p>
<p>The second brother, in order to secure his freedom
from prison, then and there smashed up his automaton
and trudged home, arriving just in time
to join his brother in being ordered away from
their former doorstep, though still held responsible
for the rates and taxes.</p>
<p>At that moment, too, the brother of the twain
was deposited amongst them, having been invalided
to his sold-up home for life.</p>
<p>So, in order not to trespass for fear of prosecution,
they all three sat down a little outside
the boundary line and recounted each to the others
their adventures and their experiences. It was
nightfall before they had done, and they really
could hardly help laughing. And then, after<span class="pagenum">[102]</span>
thinking things out, they shook hands all round in
silence.</p>
<p>For the prophecy had come true. <i>They were
content.</i> The three sons were now thoroughly
Content—to work no more, to do nothing more
for the rest of their existence. It wasn't worth it,
they said. Their disappointments were over, and
they were fully Content that they should be so.
The villagers, once more open-mouthed in their
gaping, and open-minded too, differed from the
inhabitants of the great city, and looked upon the
brothers as who should say "three wise men," and
took upon themselves the care of them in the workhouse,
and were proud to get them, and to show
them to visitors.</p>
<p>As to the beautiful Princess, she was changed by
time into an old maid, and still kept on turning up
her nose at elderly, rheumatic suitors as they passed
on their usual rounds.</p>
<p>So the old father was right after all.</p>
<p>His ambitious son had surmounted everything,
including disappointment.</p>
<p>His avaricious son had succeeded in having his
wants supplied for nothing.</p>
<p>And his favourite son could jog along as romantically
as the workhouse rules allowed, without labour
and without effort.</p>
<hr class="chapter">
<span class="pagenum">[103]</span>
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