{"collection":"folklore-oral-tradition","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_37111/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_37111","id":"gutenberg_37111","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37111","summary":null,"tags":["Adventure and adventurers -- Juvenile fiction","Animals -- Juvenile fiction","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Humour","Category: Science-Fiction & Fantasy","Demonology -- Juvenile fiction","Elves -- Juvenile fiction","Fairies -- Juvenile fiction","Fairy tales","Magic -- Juvenile fiction","Queens -- Juvenile fiction","Voyages and travels -- Juvenile fiction","Wit and humor, Juvenile"],"text":"</pre>\n\n\n\nProduced by David Edwards and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was\nproduced from images generously made available by The\nInternet Archive)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n  [Illustration: The Zankiwank & The Bletherwitch]\n\n\n\n  The Zankiwank\n  and\n  The Bletherwitch\n\n  An Original Fantastic Fairy Extravaganza\n\n\n\n  \"_Imagination is always the ruling and divine power,\n  and the rest of the man is only the instrument which\n  it sounds, or the tablet on which it writes._\"\n                                              JOHN RUSKIN.\n\n\n\n  [Illustration]\n\n\n\n  THE ZANKIWANK & THE BLETHERWITCH\n\n  BY S.J. ADAIR FITZGERALD\n\n  WITH PICTURES BY ARTHUR RACKHAM\n\n  [Illustration]\n\n  LONDON J.M. DENT & Co.\n  ALDINE HOUSE E.C. 1896\n\n\n\n  _All Rights Reserved_\n\n\n\n  To\n  MY BLANCHE\n\n  I AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBE\n  THIS LITTLE BOOK\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n  PART I\n    A TRIP TO FABLE LAND                       1\n\n  PART II\n    THE FAIRIES' FEATHER AND FLOWER LAND      33\n\n  PART III\n    A VISIT TO SHADOW LAND                    91\n\n  PART IV\n    THE LAND OF TOPSY TURVEY                 119\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n                                                                  PAGE\n\n  EVERYBODY MADE A RUSH FOR THE TRAIN                   _Frontispiece_\n\n  THE ZANKIWANK AND THE BLETHERWITCH                      _Title Page_\n\n  THE JACKARANDAJAM                                                  5\n\n  MR SWINGLEBINKS                                                    7\n\n  THEY WERE RUN INTO BY A DEMON ON A BICYCLE                        17\n\n  BIRDS, BEASTS AND FISHES WERE HURRYING BY IN CONFUSING MASSES     19\n\n  THE FROGS ... PLAYING \"KISS IN THE RING\"                          24\n\n  THEY WERE GLUED TO THE EARTH                                      27\n\n  THE ELFIN ORCHESTRA                                               37\n\n  I HAVE DISPATCHED THE JACKARANDAJAM AND MR SWINGLEBINKS IN A\n    FOUR-WHEELED CAB                                                41\n\n  A COMPANY OF FAIRIES ... LEAPT FROM THE PETALS OF THE FLOWERS     45\n\n  THE SLY JACKDAWS AND THE RAVENS ... EVIDENTLY PLOTTING MISCHIEF   51\n\n  ONE OF THE PRETTIEST DANCES YOU EVER SAW                          55\n\n  TITANIA ARRIVED ... WITH A FULL TRAIN OF FAIRIES AND ELVES        61\n\n  WILLIE PINCHED HIS EXCEEDINGLY THIN LEGS, MAKING HIM JUMP\n    AS HIGH AS AN APRIL RAINBOW                                     64\n\n  PEASEBLOSSOM AND MUSTARD SEED                                     71\n\n  QUEEN TITANIA AND HER COURT OF FAIRIES WERE EATING PUDDINGS\n    AND PIES                                                        75\n\n  THE TWO CHILDREN TUMBLED OFF NOTHING INTO A VACANT SPACE          79\n\n  \"KEEP THE POT A-BOILING,\" BAWLED THE ZANKIWANK                    83\n\n  SO INTO SHADOWLAND THEY TUMBLED                                   87\n\n  A WHOLE SCHOOL OF CHILDREN FOLLOWING MADLY IN THEIR WAKE          95\n\n  THE GOBLINS STARTED OFF ON HORSEBACK                             101\n\n  \"THE UNFORTUNATE DOLL\"                                           103\n\n  THE WINNY WEG WAS DANCING IN A CORNER ALL BY HERSELF             106\n\n  MAUDE AND WILLIE WERE RECLINING PEACEFULLY ON A GOLDEN COUCH\n    WITH SILVER CUSHIONS                                           107\n\n  A GAME OF LEAP-FROG                                              108\n\n  A GREAT RED CAVERN OPENED AND SWALLOWED UP EVERYTHING            117\n\n  \"NOW THEN, MOVE ON!\"                                             123\n\n  THE WIMBLE AND THE WAMBLE                                        126\n\n  JORUMGANDER THE YOUNGER ... APPROACHED THEM WITH A CASE OF PENS  133\n\n  \"WHY, HERE HE IS!\"                                               138\n\n  THE ZANKIWANK ARGUING WITH THE CLERK OF THE WEATHER AND THE\n    WEATHER COCK                                                   145\n\n  TIME WAS MEANT FOR SLAVES                                        151\n\n  CHILDREN WITH THE ODDEST HEADS AND FACES EVER SEEN          158, 159\n\n  IT WAS A SORT OF SKELETON                                        163\n\n  THE GRIFFIN AND THE PHOENIX                                      170\n\n  THEY SPRANG INTO THE HASH                                        173\n\n  DR PAMPLETON                                                     177\n\n  NO ONE INDIVIDUAL GOT HIS OWN PROPER LIMBS FASTENED TO HIM       183\n\n  THERE WAS JOHN OPENING THE CARRIAGE DOOR FOR THEM TO GET OUT     187\n\n\n\n\nPart I\n\nA Trip to Fable Land\n\n\n  _By the Queen-Moon's mystic light,\n  By the hush of holy night,\n  By the woodland deep and green,\n  By the starlight's silver sheen,\n  By the zephyr's whispered spell,\n  Brooding Powers Invisible,\n  Faerie Court and Elfin Throng,\n  Unto whom the groves belong,\n  And by Laws of ancient date,\n  Found in Scrolls of Faerie Fate,\n  Stream and fount are dedicate.\n  Whereso'er your feet to-day\n  Far from haunts of men may stray,\n  We adjure you stay no more\n  Exiles on an alien shore,\n  But with spells of magic birth\n  Once again make glad the earth._\n                                             PHILIP DAYRE.\n\n\n\n\nA Trip to Fable Land\n\n\n\"Well,\" said the Zankiwank as he swallowed another jam tart, \"I think we\nhad better start on our travels at once.\"\n\nThey were all standing under the clock at Charing Cross Station when the\nstation was closed and everybody else had departed, except the train\nwhich the Zankiwank had himself chartered. It was all so odd and\nstrange, and the gathering was so very motley, that if it had been\nto-morrow morning instead of last night, Willie and Maude would\ncertainly have said they had both been dreaming. But, of course, they\nwere not dreaming because they were wide-awake and dressed. Besides,\nthey remembered Charing Cross Station quite well, having started\ntherefrom with their father and mother only last summer when they went\nto the sea-side for their holidays--and what jolly times they had on the\nsands! So Maude said promptly, \"It is not Night-mare or Dreams or\nAnything. We don't know what it is, but we must not go to sleep, Willie,\nin case anything should happen.\"\n\nWillie replied that he did not want to go to sleep any more. \"I believe\nit's a show,\" he added, \"and somebody's run away with us. How lovely!\nI'm glad we are lost. Let us go and ask that tall gentleman, who looks\nlike the parlour-tongs in a bathing-suit, to give us some more buns.\"\nFor, being a boy, he could always eat buns, or an abundance of them,\nonly I hope you won't tell the nursery governess I told you.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nIt was the Zankiwank, who was doing some conjuring tricks for the\nbenefit of the Jackarandajam and Mr Swinglebinks, to whom Willie\nreferred. The Zankiwank was certainly a very curious person to look at.\nHe had very long legs, very long arms, and a very small body, a long\nneck and a head like a peacock. He was not wearing a bathing suit as\nWillie imagined, because there were tails to his jacket, hanging down\nalmost to his heels. He wore a sash round his waist, and his clothes\nwere all speckled as though he had been peppered with the colours out of\na very large kaleidoscope. The Jackarandajam was also rather tall and\nthin, but dressed in the very height of fashion, with a flower in his\ncoat and a cigarette in his mouth, which he never smoked because he\nnever lit it. He was believed by all the others--you shall know who all\nthe others were presently--to know more things than the Man-in-the-Moon,\nbecause he nearly always said something that nobody else ever thought\nof. And the Man-in-the-Moon knows more things than the Old Woman of\nMars. You have naturally heard all about Mars--at least, if you have not\nheard all about her, you all have heard about her, which is just the\nsame thing, only reversed.\n\n  There was an Old Woman of Mars\n  Who'd constantly say \"Bless my stars,\n    There's the Sun and the Moon\n    And the Earth in a swoon,\n  All dying for par-tic-u-lars-u-lars!\n  Of this planet of mine called Mars!\"\n\nMr Swinglebinks, unlike his two companions, was short, stout, and\ndreadfully important. In Fable Land, where we are going as soon as we\nstart for that happy place, he kept a grocer's shop once upon a time. As\nnobody cared a fig for his sugar and currants, however, he retired from\nbusiness and took to dates and the making of new almanacks, and was now\ntravelling about for the benefit of his figures. He was very strong on\narithmetic, and could read, write, and arith-metise before he went to\nschool, so he never went at all.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWhile the Zankiwank was talking to his friends an unseen porter rang an\nunseen bell, and called out in an unknown tongue:--\n\n  \"Take your seats for Fableland,\n  Which stands upon a Tableland,\n    And don't distress the guard.\n  And when you pass the Cableland\n  Say nothing to the Gableland\n    Because it hurts the guard.\"\n\n\"We must put that porter back in the bottle,\" said the Jackarandajam,\n\"we shall want some bottled porter to drink on the road.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Maude, \"what a ridiculous thing to say. We don't bottle\nrailway porters, I am sure.\"\n\n\"I wish the Bletherwitch would come,\" exclaimed the Zankiwank, \"we shall\nmiss the next train. She is most provoking. She promised to be here\nthree weeks ago, and we have been waiting ever since.\"\n\nThis astounding statement quite disturbed Willie, who almost swallowed a\nbun in his excitement. Had he and Maude been waiting there three weeks\nas well? What would they think at home? You see Maude and Willie, who\nwere brother and sister, had been on a visit to their grandmama; and on\ntheir way home they had fallen asleep in the carriage, after having\nrepeated to each other all the wonderful fairy tales their grandmama\nhad related to them. How long they had slept they could not guess, but\nwhen they woke up, instead of finding themselves at home in St George's\nSquare, they discovered that they were at Charing Cross Station. Mary,\ntheir nurse, had disappeared, so had John the coachman, and it was the\nZankiwank who had opened the door and assisted them to alight, saying at\nthe same time most politely--\n\n\"I assist you to alight, because it is so dark.\"\n\nThen he gave them buns and chocolates, icecreams, apples, pears, shrimps\nand cranberry tarts. So it stands to reason that after such a mixture\nthey were rather perplexed. However, they did not seem very much\ndistressed, and as they were both fond of adventures, especially in\nbooks, they were quite content to accept the Zankiwank's offer to take\nthem for a ride in the midnight-express to Fable Land, over which, as\neverybody knows, King \u00c6sop reigns. Maudie was nine and a half and Willie\nwas eight and a quarter. Very nice ages indeed, unless you happen to be\nyounger or older, and then your own age is nicer still.\n\n\"I think,\" said the Zankiwank, \"that we will start without the\nBletherwitch. She knows the way and can take a balloon.\"\n\n\"If she takes a balloon she will lose it. You had better let the balloon\ntake her,\" exclaimed the Jackarandajam severely.\n\n\"Take your places! Take your places!\" cried the unseen porter. So\neverybody made a rush for the train, and they all entered a Pullman Car\nand sat down on the seats.\n\n\"Dear me! How very incorrectly that porter speaks. He means, of course,\nthat the seats should take, or receive us.\"\n\nThe Zankiwank only smiled, while Mr Swinglebinks commenced counting up\nto a hundred, but as he lost one, he could only count up to\nninety-nine--so, to keep his arithmetic going, he subtracted a\ntime-piece from his neighbour's pocket, multiplied his foot-warmers, and\ndivided his attention between the Wimble and the Wamble, who were both\nof the party, being left-handed and deaf.\n\nMaudie and Willie took their places in the car with all the other\npassengers amid a perfect babel of chattering and laughing and crying,\nand then, as the train began to slowly move out of the station, the\nZankiwank solemnly sang the following serious song:--\n\n\nOFF TO FABLE LAND.\n\n  The midnight train departs at three,\n    To Fable Land we go,\n  For this express is nothing less\n    Than a steamer, don't you know!\n  We're sailing now upon the Thames,\n    All in a penny boat,\n  And we soon shall change for a mountain range,\n    In the atmosphere to float!\n\n      So off we go to Fable Land--\n        (Speak kindly to the guard!)\n      Which many think a Babel-land,\n        But this you disregard.\n      You'll find it is a Stable-land,\n        With stables in the yard--\n      A possible, probable, Able-land,\n        So do not vex the guard!\n\n  We've left behind us Charing Cross,\n    And all the town in bed;\n  For it is plain, though in this train,\n    We're standing on our head!\n  We're riding now in Bedfordshire,\n    Which is the Land of Nod;\n  And yet in the sky we are flying high,\n    Which seems extremely odd!\n\n      So off we go to Fable Land--\n        (Speak kindly to the guard!)\n      Which many think a Babel-land,\n        But this you disregard.\n      You'll find it is a Stable-land,\n        With stables in the yard--\n      A possible, probable, Able-land,\n        So do not vex the guard!\n\nMaudie and Willie found themselves joining lustily in the chorus when\nthe Zankiwank pulled the cord communicating with the guard, and,\nopening the window, climbed out on to the top of the carriage calling\nall the time:--\n\n  \"Guard! Guard! Guard!\n  Don't go so hard,\n    Just give the brake a hitch!\n  To Charing Cross return--\n  Nay, do not look so stern--\n  For I would not tell a cram,\n  I must send a telegram,\n    To my darling little Bletherwitch.\"\n\nSo the guard turned the train round, and they went back to Charing Cross\nas quick as lightning.\n\n\"It's my fault,\" moaned the Jackarandajam, \"I ought to have reminded\nyou. Never mind, we will put on another engine.\"\n\nSo the Zankiwank got out and sent a telegram to the Bletherwitch, and\ndesired her to follow on in a balloon.\n\nAgain they started, and everybody settled down until the train reached\nthe British Channel, when it dived through a tunnel into an uninhabited\ncountry, where the post-office clerk popped his head into the carriage\nwindow and handed in a telegram.\n\n  \"_From the Bletherwitch,\n  To the Zankiwank._\n\n    Don't wait tea. Gone to the Dentists.\"\n\n\"Extremely thoughtful,\" exclaimed everybody. But the Zankiwank wept, and\nexplained to the sympathetic Maude that he was engaged to be married to\nthe Bletherwitch, and he had been waiting for her for fourteen years.\n\"Such a charming creature. I will introduce you when she comes. Fancy,\nshe is only two feet one inch and one third high. Such a suitable height\nfor a bride.\"\n\n\"What,\" expostulated Willie and Maude together, \"she's no bigger than\nour baby! And you are quite----\"\n\n\"Eight feet and one half of an inch.\"\n\n\"How disproportionate! It seems to me to be a most unequal match,\"\nanswered Maude. \"What does her mother say?\"\n\n\"Oh, she hasn't got any mother, you know. That would not do. She has\nbeen asleep for two thousand years, and has only just woke up to the\nfact that I am her destiny.\"\n\n\"She is only joking,\" declared Maude. \"Two thousand years! She _must_ be\njoking!\"\n\n\"No,\" replied the Zankiwank somewhat sadly, \"she is not joking. She\nnever jokes. She is of Scottish descent,\" he added reflectively. \"I hope\nshe will keep her appointment. I am afraid she is rather giddy!----\"\n\n\"Giddy! Well, if she has waited two thousand years before making up her\nmind to go to the dentists she must be giddy. I am afraid you are not\nspeaking the truth.\"\n\nBefore any reply could be given the Guard came to the window and said\nthey would have to go back to Charing Cross again as he forgot to pay\nhis rent, and he always paid his rent on Monday.\n\n\"But this is _not_ Monday,\" said Willie. \"Yesterday was Monday. To-day\nis to-morrow you know, therefore it is Tuesday. Pay your landlady double\nnext Monday and that will do just as well.\"\n\nThe Guard hesitated.\n\n\"Don't vex the Guard,\" they all said in chorus.\n\n\"I am not vexed,\" said the Guard, touching his hat. \"Do you think it\nwould be right to pay double? You see my landlady is single. She might\nnot like it.\"\n\n\"Write 'I. O. U.' on a post-card and send it to her. It will do just as\nwell, if not better,\" suggested Mr Swinglebinks.\n\nSo the Guard sent the post-card; but in his agitation he told the\nengineer driver to go straight ahead instead of round the corner. The\nconsequence was that they were run into by a Demon on a bicycle, and\nthrown out of the train down a coal mine. Luckily there were no coals in\nthe mine so it did not matter, and they went boldly forward--that is to\nsay, Willie and Maude did, and knocked at the front door of a handsome\nhouse that suddenly appeared before them.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nNobody opened the door, so they walked in. They looked behind them, but\ncould not see the Zankiwank or any of the passengers in the train;\ntherefore, not knowing what else to do, they went upstairs. They\nappeared to be walking up stairs for hours without coming to a landing\nor meeting with anyone, and the interminable steps began to grow\nmonotonous. Presently they heard a scuffling and a stamping and a\nroaring behind them and something or somebody began to push them most\nrudely until at last the wall gave way, the stairs gave way, they gave\nway, and tumbled right on to the tips of their noses.\n\n\"Out of the way! Out of the way!\" screamed a chorus of curious voices,\nand Maude and Willie found themselves taken by the hand by a\nweird-looking dwarf with a swivel eye and an elevated proboscis, and led\nout of danger.\n\nThe children could not help gazing upon their preserver, who was so\ngrotesquely formed, with a humped back, twisted legs, very long arms,\nand such a funny little body without any neck. But his eyes atoned for\neverything--they sparkled and glinted in their sockets like bright brown\ndiamonds--only there are no brown diamonds, you know, only white and\npink ones.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe Dwarf did not appear to mind the wondering looks of the children at\nall, but patted them on the cheeks and told them not to be frightened.\nBut whether he meant frightened of himself, or of the Birds, Beasts, and\nFishes that were hurrying by in such confusing masses, they could not\ntell. One thing, however, that astonished them very much was the\ndeference with which they greeted their quaint rescuer, as they passed\nby. For every creature from the Lion to the Mouse bowed most politely\nas they approached him, and then went on their way gaily frisking, for\nthis was their weekly half-holiday.\n\n\"How do you like my Menagerie,\" enquired the Dwarf. \"Rough and ready,\nperhaps, but as docile as a flat-iron if you treat them properly.\"\n\n\"It is just like the Zoo,\" declared Willie. \"Or the animals in \u00c6sop's\nFables,\" suggested Maude.\n\nThis delighted the Dwarf very much, for though he looked so serious, he\nwas full of good humour and skipped about with much agility.\n\n\"Good! Good!\" he cried. \"\u00c6sop and the Zoo! Ha! Ha! He! He! Anybody can\nbe a Zoo but only one can be \u00c6sop, and I am he!\"\n\n\"\u00c6sop! Are you really Mr \u00c6sop, the Phrygian Philosopher?\" cried Maude.\n\n\"_King_ \u00c6sop, I should say,\" corrected Willie. \"I am glad we have met\nyou, because now, perhaps, you will kindly tell us what a Fable really\nis.\"\n\n\"A Fable,\" said the merry \u00c6sop, with a twinkle in his witty eyes, \"is a\nfictitious story about nothing that ever happened, related by nobody\nthat ever lived. And the moral is, that every one is quite innocent,\nonly they must not do it again!\"\n\n\"Ah! that is only your fun,\" said Willie sagely, \"because of the moral.\nWhy do they give you so many morals?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" answered \u00c6sop gravely. \"But the Commentators and Editors\ndo give a lot of applications and morals to the tales of my animals,\ndon't they?\"\n\n\"I like a tale with a moral,\" averred Maude, \"it finishes everything up\nso satisfactorily, I think. Now, Mr \u00c6sop, as you know so much, please\ntell us what a proverb is?\"\n\n\"Ah!\" replied Mr \u00c6sop, \"I don't make proverbs. There are too many\nalready, but a proverb usually seems to me to be something you always\ntheoretically remember to practically forget.\"\n\nNeither of the children quite understood this, though Maude thought it\nwas what her papa would call satire, and satire was such a strange word\nthat she could never fully comprehend the meaning.\n\nWillie was silent too, like his sister, and seeing them deep in thought,\nKing \u00c6sop waved a little wand he had in his hand, and all the Birds and\nBeasts and Fishes joined hands and paws, and fins and wings, and danced\nin a circle singing to the music of a quantity of piping birds in the\ntrees:--\n\n  If you want to be merry and wise,\n  You must all be as bright as you can,\n      You never must quarrel,\n      Or spoil a right moral,\n  But live on a regular plan.\n  You must read, write and arith-metise,\n  Or you'll never grow up to be good;\n      And you mustn't say \"Won't,\"\n      Or \"I shan't\" and \"I don't,\"\n  Or disturb the Indicative Mood.\n\n      So round about the Knowledge Tree,\n        Each boy and girl must go,\n      To learn in school the golden rule,\n        And Duty's line to toe!\n\n  If you want to be clever and smart,\n  You must also be ready for play,\n      And don't be too subtle\n      When batting your shuttle,\n  But sport in a frolicsome way.\n  With bat and with ball take your part,\n  Or with little doll perched on your knee,\n      You sing all the time,\n      To a nursery rhyme,\n  Before you go in to your tea!\n\n      So round about the Sunset Tree\n        Each boy and girl should go\n      To play a game of--What's its name?\n        That is each game--you know!\n\nAfter merrily joining in this very original song, with dancing\naccompaniment, Maude and Willie thanked King \u00c6sop for permitting his\nanimals to entertain them.\n\n\"Always glad to please good little boys and girls, you know,\" he\nreplied pleasantly, \"even in their play they furnish us with a new fable\nand a moral.\"\n\n\"And that is?\"\n\n\"All play and no work makes the world stand still.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nBefore they could ask for an explanation, their attention was once more\ndrawn to the animals, who had commenced playing all kinds of games just\nthe same as they themselves played in the play-ground at school. The\nToads were playing Leap-frog; the Elephants and the Bears, Fly the\nGarter; the Dromedaries, Hi! Spie! Hi! while the snakes were trundling\ntheir hoops. The Lions and the Lambs were playing at cricket with the\nDonkeys as fielders and the Wombat as umpire.\n\nThe Frogs were in a corner by themselves playing \"Kiss in the Ring,\" and\ncrying out:--\n\n  \"It isn't you! It isn't you!\n  We none of us know what to do,\"\n\nin a very serio-comic manner. Then the Storks and the Cranes and the\nGeese and the Ganders were standing in a circle singing:--\n\n  Sally, Sally Waters,\n    Sitting in the Moon,\n  With the camel's daughters,\n    All through the afternoon!\n  Oh Sally! Bo Sally!\n    Where's your dusting pan;\n  My Sally! Fie Sally!\n    Here is your young man!\n\nIn another part the Crabs, the Sheep, and the Fox, were vowing that\nLondon Bridge was Broken Down, because they had not half-a-crown, which\nseemed a curious reason. Then all the rest of the wild creatures, Birds,\nBeasts, and Fishes, commenced an extraordinary dance, singing, croaking,\nflapping their fins and spreading their wings, to these words:--\n\n  We are a crowd of jolly boys,\n    All romping on the lea;\n  We always make this merry noise,\n    When we return from sea.\n\n  So we go round and round and round,\n    Because we've come ashore;\n  For Topsy Turvey we are bound,\n    So round again once more.\n\n  Go in and out of the coppice,\n    Go in and out at the door;\n  And do not wake the poppies,\n    Who want to have a snore.\n\nIt was too ridiculous; they could recognise every animal they had read\nabout in \u00c6sop, and they were all behaving in a manner they little\ndreamed could be possible, out of a Night-mare. But it certainly was not\na Night-mare, though they could distinguish several horses and ponies.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThey never seemed to stop in their games, and even the Ants and the\nGnats were playing--and above all a game of football,--though as some\nplayed according to Association and some to Rugby rules, of course it\nwas rather perplexing to the on-lookers. When they grew tired of\nwatching the Animal World enjoying their holiday, they turned to consult\nKing \u00c6sop, but to their astonishment, he was not near them--he had\nvanished! And when they turned round the other way the Animals had\nvanished too, and they were quite alone. Indeed everything seemed to\ndisappear, even the light that had been their guide so long, and they\nbegan to tremble with fear and apprehension.\n\nNot a sound was to be heard, and darkness gradually fell around them.\nThey held each other by the hand, and determined to go forward, but to\ntheir dismay they could not move! They were glued to the earth. They\ntried to speak, but their tongues stuck to the roofs of their mouths,\nand they were in great distress. \"Where, Oh where was the Zankiwank?\"\nthey wondered in their thoughts. And a buzzing in their ears took up the\nrefrain:--\n\n  The Zankiwank, the Zankiwank,\n    Oh where, Oh where is the Zankiwank?\n  He brought us here, and much we fear\n    His conduct's far from Franky-wank!\n  The Zankiwank, the Zankiwank,\n    He has gone to seek the Bletherwitch,\n  Oh the Zankiwank, 'tis a panky prank\n    To leave us here to die in a ditch.\n\n\"A telegram, did you say? For me, of course, what an age you have been.\nHow is my blushing bride? Let me see--\n\n  '_From the Bletherwitch, Nonsuch Street,\n                        To the Zankiwank, Nodland._\n\n    Forgot my new shoes, and the housemaid's killed the parrot. Put the\n    kettle on.'\"\n\nThen the children heard some sobbing sound soughing through the silence\nand they knew that they were saved. Also that the Zankiwank was weeping.\nSo with a strong effort Maude managed to call out consolingly,\n\"Zankiwanky, dear! don't cry, come and let me comfort you.\"\n\nBut the Zankiwank refused to be comforted. However, he came forward\nmuttering an incantation of some sort, and Maude and Willie finding\nthemselves free, rushed forward and greeted him.\n\n\"Hush, my dears, the Nargalnannacus is afloat on the wild, wild main. We\nmust be careful and depart, or he will turn us into something\nunpleasant--the last century or may be the next, as it is close at hand,\nand inexpensive. Follow me to the ship that is waiting in the Bay\nWindow, and we will go and get some Floranges.\"\n\nCarefully Maudie and Willie followed the Zankiwank, each holding on by\nthe tails of his coat, glad enough to go anywhere out of the Blackness\nof the Dark.\n\nSoon they found themselves in Window Bay, and climbing up the sides of a\nmighty ship with five funnels and a red-haired captain.\n\n\"Quick,\" called the Captain, \"the Nargalnannacus is on the lee scuppers\njust off the jibboom brace. Make all sail for the Straights of\nBallambangjan, and mind the garden gate.\"\n\nThen the Zankiwank became the man at the wheel, and the vessel scudded\nbefore the wind as the two children went off into a trance.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nPart II\n\nThe Fairies' Feather and Flower Land\n\n\n                            _Fa\u00ebry elves,\n  Whose midnight revels, by a forest side\n  Or fountain, some belated peasant sees,\n  Or dreams he sees, while overhead the moon\n  Sits arbitress._\n                                                   MILTON.\n\n\n  _O then I see Queen Mab hath been with you:\n  She is the fairies' midwife; and she comes\n  In shape no bigger than an agate-stone\n  On the fore-finger of an alderman,\n  Drawn with a train of little atomies,\n  Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep._\n                                              SHAKESPEARE.\n\n\n\n\nThe Fairies' Feather and Flower Land\n\n\nHow long Maude and Willie had been rocking in the cradle of the deep\nthey could not tell, nor how long it took them to steam through the\nStraits of Ballambangjan, for everything was exceptionally bleak and\nblank to them. By the way, if you cannot find the Straits of\nBallambangjan in your Geography or on the Map, you should consult the\nfirst sailor you meet, and he will give you as much information on the\nsubject as any boy or girl need require.\n\nBoth children experienced that curious sensation of feeling asleep while\nthey were wide awake, and feeling wide awake when they imagined\nthemselves to be asleep, just as one does feel sometimes in the early\nmorning, when the sun is beginning to peep through the blinds, and the\nstarlings are chattering, and the sparrows are tweeting under the eaves,\noutside the window.\n\nThey were no longer on the vessel that had borne them away from\nFableland, and the approach of the Nargalnannacus, a fearsome creature\nwhom nobody has yet seen, although most of us may not have heard about\nhim.\n\nThe obliging Zankiwank was with them, and when they looked round they\nfound themselves in a square field festooned with the misty curtains of\nthe Elfin Dawn.\n\n\"Of course,\" said the Zankiwank, \"this is Midsummer Day, and very soon\nit will be Midsummer Night, and you will see some wonders that will\noutwonder all the wonders that wonderful people have ever wondered both\nbefore and afterwards. Listen to the Flower-Fairies--not the garden\nflowers, but the wild-flowers; they will sing you a song, while I beat\ntime--not that there is any real need to beat Time, because he is a most\nrespectable person, though he always contrives to beat us.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nBoth children would have liked to argue out this speech of the Zankiwank\nbecause it puzzled them, and they felt it would not parse properly.\nHowever, as just at that moment the Elfin Orchestra appeared, they sat\non the grass and listened:--\n\n\nTHE ELFIN DAWN.\n\n  This is the Elfin Dawn,\n  When ev'ry Fay and Faun,\n    Trips o'er the earth with joy and mirth,\n  And Pleasure takes the maun.\n  Night's noon stars coyly peep,\n  O'er dale and dene and deep,\n    And Fairies fair float through the air,\n  Love's festival to keep.\n\n      We dance and sing in the Welkin Ring,\n      While Heather Bells go Ding-dong-ding!\n        To greet the Elfin Dawn.\n      The Flower-fairies spread each wing,\n      And trip about with mincing ging,\n        Upon the magic lawn.\n\n  And so we frisk and play,\n  Like mortals, in the day;\n    From acorn cup we all wake up\n  Titania to obey.\n  We never, never die,\n  And this the reason why,\n    Of Fancy's art we are the part\n  That lives eternalie.\n\n      We dance and sing in the Welkin Ring,\n      While Heather Bells go Ding-dong-ding!\n        To greet the Elfin Dawn.\n      The Flower-fairies spread each wing,\n      And trip about with mincing ging,\n        Upon the magic lawn.\n\n\"They keep very good time, don't they?\" said the Zankiwank to the\nchildren, who were completely entranced with pleasure and surprise.\n\n\"Lovely, lovely,\" was all they could say.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nEvery wild flower they could think of, and every bird of the air, was to\nbe seen in this beautiful place with the purling stream running down the\ncentre, crossed by innumerable rustic bridges, while far away they could\nsee a fountain ever sending upward its cooling sprays of crystal water.\n\n\"I think I shall spend my honeymoon here,\" said the Zankiwank. \"I have\nalready bought a honeycomb for my bride. I am so impatient to have her\nby my side that I have dispatched the Jackarandajam and Mr Swinglebinks\nin a four-wheeled cab to fetch her. When the Bletherwitch arrives I will\nintroduce you, and you shall both be bridesmaids!\"\n\n\"But I can't be a bridesmaid, you know,\" corrected Willie.\n\n\"Oh yes, you can. You can be anything here you like. You only have to\neat some Fern seeds and you become invisible, and nobody would know you.\nIt is so simple, and saves a lot of argument. And you should never argue\nabout anything unless you know nothing about it, then you are sure to\nwin.\"\n\n\"But,\" interrupted Maude, \"how can you know nothing about anything?\"\n\n\"'Tis the easiest thing out of the world,\" said the Zankiwank. \"What is\nnothing?\"\n\n\"Nothing.\"\n\n\"Precisely. Nothing is nothing; but what is better than nothing?\"\n\n\"Something.\"\n\n\"Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! Where is your logic? Nothing is better than\nsomething! I'll prove it:--\n\n  \"Nothing is sweeter than honey,\n  Nothing's more bitter than gall,\n  Nothing that's comic is funny,\n  Nothing is shorter than tall.\"\n\n\"That is nonsense and nothing to do with the case,\" exclaimed Maude.\n\n\"Nonsense? Nonsense? Did you say nonsense?\"\n\n\"Of course she did,\" said Willie, \"and so do I.\"\n\n\"Nonsense! To me? Do you forget what my name is?\"\n\n\"Oh, no, nothing easier than to remember it. You are the Great\nZankiwank.\"\n\n\"Thank you, I am satisfied. I thought you had forgotten. I am not cross\nwith you.\"\n\nMaude and Willie vowed they would not cross him for anything, let alone\nnothing, and so the Zankiwank was appeased and offered to give them the\ncorrect answer to his own unanswerable conundrum. Do you know what a\nconundrum is though? I will tell you while the Zankiwank is curling his\nwhiskers:--\n\nA conundrum is an impossible question with an improbable answer. Think\nit over the next time you read \"Robinson Crusoe.\"\n\n  \"Nothing is better than a good little girl;\n  But a jam tart is better than nothing,\n  Therefore a jam tart is better than the best little girl alive.\"\n\n\"What do you think of that?\" said the Zankiwank.\n\n\"I have heard something like it before. But that is nothing. Anyhow I\nwould much rather be a little girl than a jam tart--because a jam tart\nmust be sour because it's tart, and a little girl is always sweet,\"\npromptly replied Willie, kissing his sister Maude on the nose--but that\nwas an accident, because she moved at the wrong moment.\n\n\"You distress me,\" said the Zankiwank. \"Suppose I were to try to shoot\nFolly as it flies, and hit a Fool's Cap and Bells instead, what would\nyou say?\"\n\n\"I should say that you had shot at nothing and missed it.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAt this Maude and Willie laughed girlsterously and boysterously, and the\nZankiwank wept three silent tears in the teeth of the wind and declared\nthat nothing took his fancy so much as having nothing to take. So they\ntook him by the arm and begged him, as he was so clever and had\nmentioned the name, to take them to Fancy's dwelling-place.\n\n\"I think Fancy must dwell amongst the wild flowers--the sweet beautiful\nwild flowers that grow in such charming variety of disorder.\" Saying\nthis, Maude took Willie's hand and urged the Zankiwank forward.\n\nBefore the Zankiwank could reply, a company of fairies, all dressed in\npink and green, leapt from the petals of the flowers and danced forward,\nsinging to the buzz of the bees and the breaking note of the\nyellow-ammer with his bright gamboge breast:--\n\n\nWHERE IS FANCY BRED.\n\n  O would you know where Fancy dwells?\n    And where she flaunts her head?\n  Come to the daisy-spangled dells,\n    And seek her in her bed.\n  For Fancy is a maiden sweet,\n    With all a maiden's whims;\n  As quick as thought--as Magic fleet--\n    Like gossamer she skims.\n\n  O seek among the birds and bees,\n    And search among the buds;\n  In babbling brook, in silver seas,\n    Or in the raging floods.\n  Gaze upward to the starry vault;\n    Or ask the golden sun:\n  Though ever you will be at fault\n    Before your task is done.\n\n  O would you know where Fancy dwells?\n    It is not in the flow'rs;\n  It is not in the chime of bells,\n    Nor in the waking hours.\n  It is not in the learn\u00ebd brain,\n    Nor in the busy mart;\n  It lives not with the false and vain,\n    But in the tender heart.\n\nAs mysteriously as they had appeared, the fairies vanished again, and\nonly the rustling of the leaves and the twittering of the birds making\nmelody all around, reminded the children that they were on enchanted\nground. Now and then the bull-frogs would set up a croaking chorus in\nsome marshy land far behind, but as no one could distinguish what they\nsaid it did not matter.\n\n  O to be here for ever,\n  With the fairy band,\n  O to wake up never\n  From this dreamy land!\n  For the humblest plant is weighted\n  With some new perfume,\n  And the scent of the air drops like some prayer\n  And mingles with the bloom.\n  O to be here for ever, and never, never wake.\n\nWas that the music of the spheres they wondered? Somehow it seemed as\nthough their own hearts' echo played to the words that fell so soft,\nlike a fair sweet tender melody of fairies long ago.\n\nThe Zankiwank had left them again, to send another telegram, perhaps,\nand Maude and Willie went rambling through the meadow and down by the\nbrook, where they gathered nuts and berries and sat them down to enjoy a\nrural feast.\n\nTiny elves and fairies were constantly coming and going, some driving in\nwee chariots with ants for horses and oak leaves for carriages. And\nwhile all the other flowers seemed quite gay and merry in the sunshine,\nthe Poppies were nodding their scarlet heads and gently dozing, what\ntime some wild Holly Hocks beat to and fro murmuring--\n\n  Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!\n    While the corn is ready to reap.\n  Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!\n    And the lightest hours a-creep.\n  Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!\n    On the edge of the misty deep.\n\nAs they lay upon the bank, to their surprise a procession of birds came\nalong, the two foremost being fine handsome thrushes, carrying a large\nbanner of ivy leaves, on which was inscribed, in letters of red clover,\nthe following legend:--\n\n  BEAN-FEAST OF BIRDS\n  FROM LONDON AND\n  THE SUBURBS.\n\n\"Fancy,\" said Maude, \"all the birds of London Town come to Fairy-land\nfor a change of air!\"\n\n\"And why not?\" asked a saucy Cock-sparrow. \"We can't be always singing\nthe same song, so we come here for a change of air, and of course when\nwe get a change of air we return with new melodies. If you were to Reed\nyour books properly you would know that the Pipes of our Organs--our\nvocal Organs--want tuning occasionally.\"\n\nThen, without any warning, they all struck up a new song, and marvel of\nmarvels, instead of merely singing like ordinary birds, they sang the\nwords as well. But before giving you the lyric that they voiced so\nmelodiously I must tell you the names of some of the birds they saw, and\nif you live in London or any large town you will perhaps know several of\nthem by sight, as well as by cognomen. First in the throng were the\nMistle-Thrushes and the song Thrushes; the Redwing and the Fieldfare,\nthe Blackbird and the Redstart, and the Redbreast with faithful Jenny\nWren; the large family of Titmouse and the merry Chiff-chaff, with his\npleasant little song of \"Chiff-chaff; chiff-chaff; chiv-chave.\" The\nhumoursome Wagtails and that rare visitant the Waxwing, hopped along\ntogether, followed by the Swallows and the Martins, and a whole posse of\nFinches of various orders, particularly the Chaffinches who were joking\nwith the Linnets.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThen came the noisy Starlings, the Magpies and the Sparrows chattering\nincessantly and evidently talking scandal. The sly Jackdaws and the\nRavens looking as sleek as Sunday Sextons, but evidently plotting\nmischief, were also present, in close proximity to the Rooks and the\nCrows, who were well able to take care of their own caws. Afterwards\ncame the Swifts and the Larks up to all sorts of games. A few\nWoodpeckers joined their feathered friends, and one Cuckoo was there,\nbecause Willie heard him, but he kept somewhere in the background as\nusual. Owls and Bats and Millards with Wigeons and Pigeons brought up\nthe rear with a few Plovers, including the Lapwing. Jack Snipe came\ntumbling after in a hurry, with a stranger called the Whimbrel and a\nPuffin out of breath. There were other birds as well, but I don't think\nyou would know them if I mentioned them. Maude and Willie did not, and\nthey were quite authorities on ornithology, and perhaps you are not.\n\n\nTHE SONG OF THE BIRDS.\n\n  We are the birds of London Town,\n    Come out to take the air,\n  To change our coats of grey and brown,\n    And trim our feathers rare.\n\n  For London fogs so very black\n    Our tempers disarrange,\n  And so we skip with piping trip,\n    To have our yearly change.\n\n        Pee wit! Tu! whoo!\n          How do you do?\n        Tweet! tweet! chip! chip!\n        Chiff! chaff! chiff chay!\n        Weet wee! weet weet! sweet way!\n                      Cuckoo!\n\n  We sing our songs in London Town,\n    To make the workers gay;\n  And seeds and crumbs they throw us down--\n    'Tis all we ask as pay.\n\n  We make them think of fields all green\n    And long-forgotten things;\n  Of far-off hopes and dreams a-sheen\n    And love with golden wings.\n\n        Pee wit! Tu! whoo!\n          How do you do?\n        Tweet! tweet! chip! chip!\n        Chiff! chaff! chiff chay!\n        Weet wee! weet weet! sweet way!\n                      Cuckoo!\n\nAfter this very entertaining song each bird stood on one leg, spread one\nwing, and joined partners for one of the prettiest dances you ever saw.\nIt was called the Birds' Quadrille, and was so charmingly executed that\neven the flowers left their beds and borders to look on--the fairies\npeeping meanwhile from the buds to join in the general enjoyment. The\nvoices of the flowers were lifted in gentle cadences to the rhythm of\nthe feathered dancers' featly twists and turns.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHow happy the children felt in this beautiful place with all Nature\nvieing to show her sweetest charms. And how rich and rare were the gems\nof foliage and tree and humble creeping plants. How easy to forget\neverything--but joy--in this fairy paradise that Fancy so deftly\npictured for them! Could there be anything sad in Flower Land? They\ncould not believe it possible, and yet when a tiny little fairy stepped\nfrom a cluster of wild flowers and sang them the song of the Lily and\nthe Rose, diamond tears stole down the cheeks of the little lass and the\nlittle lad.\n\n\nTHE ROSE AND THE LILY.\n\n  A tender Rose, so pretty and sleek,\n    Loved a Lily pure and white;\n  And paid his court with breathings meek--\n    Watching o'er her day and night.\n  While the Lily bowed her virgin head,\n    The Rose his message sent;\n  The Lily clung to her lover red,\n    And gave her shy consent.\n\n        The Violets cooed, and the Hare-bells rang,\n          And the Jasmine shook with glee;\n        While the birds high in the branches sang,\n          \"Forget not true to be.\"\n\n  Dear Flora came the wedding to see,--\n    The Cowslips had decked the bride,\n  The Red Rose trembled so nervously--\n    His blushes he could not hide.\n  The Daisies opened their wee white eyes,\n    The Pinks came down in rows;\n  \"Forget-me-not!\" the Lily cries,\n    \"My own, my sweet Moss Rose!\"\n\n        The Violets cooed, and the Hare-bells rang,\n          And the Jasmine shook with glee;\n        While the birds high in the branches sang,\n          \"O may you happy be!\"\n\n  The Flower-fairies were gathered there,\n    And every plant as well,\n  To attend the wedding of this pair\n    So sweet that no pen can tell.\n  But a cruel wind came sweeping by--\n    The Lily drooped and died....\n  Then the Red Rose gave one tearful sigh,\n    And joined his Lily bride.\n\n        The Violets wept, and the Hare-bells sobbed,\n          The Myrtle and Jasmine sighed;\n        The birds were hushed as their hearts all throbbed\n          At the death of the Rose's bride.\n\nBefore the children had time to grow too sorrowful, there was a\nfluttering in the air and a rushing among the plants and flowers as the\nZankiwank bounded into their presence, cutting so many capers that they\nwere glad they were not to have mutton for dinner, as certainly all the\ncapers would be destroyed.\n\nThe Zankiwank was in very high spirits, and gleefully announced that the\nCourt of the Fairies, with the Queen, was coming, as Sally who lived in\nsomebody's alley had just informed him. Then he burst out singing to a\ntune, which I daresay you all know, the following foolish words:--\n\n  Of all the flowers that are so smart,\n    There's none like Daffydilly!\n  She'd be the darling of my heart,\n    But she has grown so silly!\n  There is no wild flower in the land\n    That's half so tame as Daisy;\n  To her I'd give my heart and hand,\n    But fear I'd drive her crazy!\n\n  And then there is the Cabbage Rose,\n    Also the China Aster;\n  But Buttercup with yellow nose\n    Would cause jealous disaster.\n  Forget-me-not, O Violet dear!\n    Primrose, you know my passion!\n  For all the plants afar--anear\n    I court in flowery fashion!\n\n\"Oh, please be serious!\" cried Willie. \"_What_ is the matter with you,\nMr Zankiwank?\"\n\nYou will perceive that Willie and Maude were quite at home in their new\nsurroundings, and nothing seemed to surprise them one whit, not even the\nunexpected which they constantly anticipated.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe Zankiwank only asked permission to send one more telegram to the\nBletherwitch, and then he condescended to inform them that Queen Titania\nwas about to pay a visit to the Flowers and the Birds, and sure enough,\nbefore he had done speaking, Titania arrived all the way from Athens,\nwith a full train of fairies and elves, accompanied by a fairy band\nplaying fairy music. Robin Goodfellow skipped in advance, while\nPeaseblossom, Cobweb, Moth, and Mustard-seed attended on the lovely\nQueen.\n\n\"Indeed, indeed this must be a Midsummer Night's Dream!\"\n\n\"Indeed and indeed then it is,\" mocked the impudent Robin Goodfellow.\n\"The fairies are not dead yet; and they never will die while good little\ngirls and boys, and poets with sweet imaginations, live. But quick, let\nnot the Queen see you! Eat of these Fern Seeds and you will become\ninvisible even to the fairies. They are special seeds of my own growing\nand warranted to last as long as I choose.\"\n\nSo Maude and Willie ate of the Fern Seeds and became invisible, even to\nthe Zankiwank, who was dreadfully distressed and went about calling them\nby name. In a spirit of mischief Willie pinched his exceedingly thin\nlegs, making him jump as high as an April rain-bow, and causing him to\nbe called to order by the Court Usher.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"And now,\" said Titania, waving her wand and calling the Flowers and\nBirds to her Court, \"let the Jackdaw sing his well-known War Song.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"If you please, your majesty, I have left the music at home and\nforgotten the words,\" pleaded the Jackdaw.\n\n\"Very well, then sing it without either or you shall not have a new\ncoat until the Spring.\"\n\nSo the Jackdaw stepped forth and sang as below, while the Rook\nirreverently cleared his throat above for his friend, and cried \"Caw!\nCaw!\"\n\n\nTHE JACKDAW'S JEST.\n\n  If peaches grew on apple trees,\n    And frogs were made of glass;\n  And bulls and cows were turned to bees,\n    And rooks were made of grass;\n  If boys and girls were made of figs,\n    If figs were made of dates,\n  Upon the sands they'd dance like grigs\n    With bald and oval pates.\n\n  If mortals had got proper sense\n    And were not quite so mad;\n  Their mood would make them more intense,\n    To make each other glad:\n  If only they would understand\n    The things that no one knows,\n  They'd live like fairies in the land,\n    And never come to blows.\n\n\"That's a very nice War Song--it's so peaceful and soothing,\" spake the\nQueen. \"And now call the Poets from Freeland. This is the time for them\nto renew their licences, though I greatly fear that they have been\ntaking so many liberties of late that any licence I can give them will\nprove superfluous.\"\n\n\"Superfluous! Superfluous! That _is_ a good word,\" muttered the\nZankiwank. \"I wonder what it means?\" Whereupon he went and asked Robin\nGoodfellow and all the other Fairies, but as nobody knew, it did not\nmatter, and the Poets arriving at that moment he thought of a number and\nsat on a toadstool.\n\nMaude recognised several of the Poets who came to have their licences\nrenewed--she had heard of \"poetic licence\" before, but never dreamed\nthat one had to get the unwritten freedom from Fairyland. But so it was.\nSeveral of the Poets seemed to be exorbitant in their demands, and\nwanted to make their poems all licence, but this Titania would not\nconsent to, so they went away singing, all in tune too, a little piece\nthat Robin Goodfellow said was a Rondel:--\n\n  Life is but a mingled song,\n    Sung in divers keys;\n  Sweet and tender, brave and strong,\n    As the heart agrees.\n\n  Naught but love each maid will please\n    When emotions throng;\n    Life is but a mingled song,\n  Sung in divers keys.\n\n  Youth and age nor deem it wrong,\n    Sing with joyous ease,\n  That your days you may prolong\n    Freed from Care's decrees.\n  Life is but a mingled song\n    Sung in divers keys.\n\nSo on their way they went rejoicing--saying pretty things to the\nfairies, the flowers and the birds, for they are their best friends you\nknow, and they love all Nature with a vast and all-embracing,\nall-enduring love.\n\nOne singer as he went along chanted half-sadly:--\n\n  To tell of other's joys the poet sings;\n    To tell of Love, its sweets and eke its pain;\n  The tenderest songs his magic fancy strings,\n    Of Love, perchance, that he may never gain.\n  Hearts may not break and passion may be weak,\n  But O the grief of Love that dare never speak!\n\nA light-hearted bard then took up the cue and carolled these lines:--\n\n  There's so much prose in life that now and then,\n    A tender song of pity stirs the heart,\n  A simple lay of love from fevered pen,\n    Makes in some soul the unshed tear-drops start.\n  Sing, poets! sing for aye your sweetest strain,\n  For life without its poetry were vain!\n\nThen they all sang together a song of May, although Queen Titania had\ndeclared that it was Midsummer. Perhaps her Midsummer lasts all the year\nround:--\n\n  When Winter's gone to rest,\n  And Spring is our dear guest;\n    The Merry May, at break of day,\n  Comes in gay garlands drest.\n  The brightest smiles she brings--\n  Of sweetest hopes she sings\n    And trips a-pace with dainty grace\n  And lightest fairy wings.\n\n  Joy is the song all Nature sighs,\n  Love is the light in maidens' eyes,\n    May is love alway:\n  The budding branch and nodding tree\n  Join in the revels and bow with glee\n    To greet the Virgin May.\n\n  While songsters choose and mate,\n  And woo their brides in state,\n    The youth and maid stroll through the glade\n  The birds to emulate!\n  Then comes the Queen of May,\n  To hold her court and sway,\n    While gallant blades salute the maids,\n  And whisper secrets gay.\n\n  Love is the song all Nature sighs,\n  While peace gleams in each maiden's eyes,\n    Youth is for joy alway!\n  The laughing rose and lily fair\n  Their fragrance shed upon the air,\n    As though 'twere ever May.\n\nAs the Poets went on their happy way, the last one to depart turned to\nwhere Maude was standing, and though he could not possibly see her, said\ngently:--\n\n  O grant you, little maiden, your thoughts be aye sincere,\n    Your dreams turn into actions,\n  Your pleasures know no sear:\n    Your life be flowers and sunshine,\n  Your days be free from tear.\n\nHow happy it made her! And what beautiful things these poets always\nthought of and said!\n\n\"Now, Peaseblossom and Mustard Seed, you may sing that little song that\nI made for you when we were floating up near the Moon, and then we shall\nsoon have to depart as we have so many calls to make this Midsummer\nNight.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nNeither Willie nor Maude could understand how it could be Midsummer\nNight, because Midsummer Day was such a long way off--quite six weeks,\nfor this was only yet the month of May. But they did not say anything,\nbecause Robin Goodfellow was looking at them, and they knew they were\ninvisible, because they could not even feel themselves--which is a\ncurious sensation, when you come to think of it.\n\nNow, this is the song that Peaseblossom and Mustard Seed sang together\nin unison--the fairies, led by Robin Good fellow, joining in the\nchorus:--\n\n\nWILL YOU WALK INTO THE GARDEN.\n\n  Will you walk into the garden?\n    Said the Poppy to the Rose,\n  Your tender heart don't harden,--\n    Do not elevate your nose.\n  For the Gilly-flower has sent us\n    All because of your perfume,\n  And the Box a case has lent us,\n    To make a little room.\n\n        So Rosey! Rosey! sweet little posy\n          Come to our garden f\u00eate,\n        And our little Cock-roaches will lend you their coaches,\n          So that you mayn't be late.\n\n  All the Waterblinks are waiting,\n    Just beneath the Dogwood's shade;\n  While the Teazle's loudly prating\n    To the Madder's little maid!\n  The old Cranberry grows tartish\n    All about a Goosefoot Corn,\n  But the Primrose, dressed quite smartish,\n    Will explain it's but a thorn.\n\n        So Rosey! Rosey! sweet little posy\n          Come to our garden f\u00eate;\n        Our naughty young nettles shall be on their fettles,\n          All stinging things to bate.\n\n  Now for tea there's Perrywinkles\n    And some Butterwort and Sedge,\n  House-leeks and Bird's-nest-binkles,\n    With some Sundew from the hedge,\n  There is Sorrel, Balsam, Mallow,\n    Some Milk Wort and Mare's Tail too,\n  With some Borage and some Sallow,\n    Figworts and Violets blue.\n\n        So Rosey! Rosey! sweet little posy,\n          Come to our garden f\u00eate,\n        And the Iris and Crocus shall sing us and joke us\n          Some humorous things sedate.\n\n\"That's all very well,\" exclaimed the Zankiwank. \"Roses are always\ndelightful, especially the Cabbage Roses, because you can eat them for\nbreakfast, but every rose has its drawback.... Ho! and it's thorn,\" he\nadded, dancing with pain, for at that moment several rose bushes he was\npassing by gave him a good pricking.\n\n\"Ah!\" said Queen Titania, \"that is not the way to look at the beautiful\nthings of life. It is because the thorns have roses that we should be\nthankful, and not find fault because the roses have thorns.\"\n\n\"That is a sentiment that I can endorse--it is a true bill, and almost\nas good as one of my own,\" replied Robin Goodfellow saucily; \"and now\nlet us wander through the Florange grove and gather some Moranges and\nLemons.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nNeither Maude nor Willie had heard of Floranges or Moranges, and\nwondered what sort of fruit they could be, when their attention was\ndrawn once more to Queen Titania and her court of fairies, who were all\nseated beneath the greenwood tree eating puddings and pies that Mustard\nSeed and Peaseblossom and Cobweb were making for them, chanting, as they\ncooked the pastry by the fire of their own eloquence, this doggerel:--\n\n  First you take a little orange,\n    And you squeeze out all the pips;\n  Then you add a crimson florange,\n    Which you cut up into chips.\n  Then you stir them in a porringe,\n    With your tiny finger tips;\n  And you have the finest morange\n    Ever known to mortal lips.\n\nHow Willie and Maude longed to taste a morange! The Zankiwank evidently\nenjoyed the one he had, for he said it tasted just like mango, ice\ncream, blackberries and plum tart all mixed up together, so that it must\nhave been nice.\n\nAfter the feast Titania said she must be going, as she felt certain\nthat there were some invisible mortals present. She could hear them\nbreathing! At this Robin Goodfellow grew nervous, and the children got\nfrightened lest the Queen should discover and punish them for their\ntemerity.\n\n  \"Where Christmas pudding's bliss\n    'Tis folly to eat pies,\"\n\ncried Robin Goodfellow to divert attention and the fairies at the same\ntime, but the Queen was not satisfied, and ordered a special dress train\nto carry them away again.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAt this moment the two children tumbled off nothing into a vacant space,\nmaking the Zankiwank scream out--\"It must be the Bletherwitch in the\nclutches of the Nargalnannacus.\" But it wasn't, and if it had not been\nfor Robin Goodfellow's presence of mind, I am sure I do not know what\nwould have happened. That lively rascal, however, guessing that he had\nused the wrong seeds, at once stepped forward, and taking Maude and\nWillie each by the hand, boldly presented them to Her Majesty as being\nfavoured mortals who were friends of the Zankiwank, and so the Queen\nreceived them and asked them more questions than you could find in any\nschool book. None of which they answered, because when they turned round\nthe Queen and all her court had vanished, and only the Zankiwank was to\nbe seen.\n\nThe Zankiwank took no notice of them whatever, and behaved just as\nthough he could not see them. They called him by name without arousing\nhis attention, for he was once more writing a telegram, only he did not\nknow where to send it. In the distance Maude could hear the sound of\nvoices, and she declared she could recognise the Queen singing, though\nWillie said it must have been her imagination because he could not.\nHowever, this is what Maude said she heard:--\n\n  Dear little maid, may joy be thine\n    As through your life you go;\n  Let Truth and Peace each act design,\n    That Hope turn not to woe.\n\n  Dream if you will in maiden prime,\n    But let each dream be true;\n  For idle hopes waste golden time,\n    That won't return to you.\n\n  In after years when ways divide,\n    And Love dispels each tear,\n  Know in some breast there will abide\n    A thought for you sincere.\n\n  So strive, dear maid, to play your part,\n    With noble aim and deed;\n  Let sweetness ever sway your heart,\n    And so I give you speed.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWhile Maudie was pondering over the meaning of these words, she was\nsuddenly lifted off her feet, and, when she recovered from the shock,\nfound herself with Willie in a balloon, while down below the Zankiwank\nwas fondly embracing the Jackarandajam, who had just arrived with a\nwhole army of odd-looking people, including Jack-the-Giant-Killer, Tom\nThumb, Blue Beard, and all his wives, with Sister Anne, Dick\nWhittington, and his black cat, and Tom Tiddler, and about three\nthousand four hundred and five goblins and sprites, who all commenced\nrunning a race up and down the valley from which they were fast\nspeeding.\n\n\"Keep the pot a-boiling; keep the pot a-boiling,\" bawled the Zankiwank,\nand away they all went again, helter skelter, in and out, and up and\ndown, like skaters on a rink.\n\nGradually the balloon altered its course, and instead of going up it\nwent straight ahead to a large inpenetrable wall that seemed to threaten\nthem with destruction; while, to the annoyance of both Maude and Willie,\nthey could hear the revellers down below dancing and singing as though\nthey were in no jeopardy. And if the words had been correct they would\nhave declared that it was the Mariners of England who were singing their\nown song:--\n\n  You sleepy little mortals,\n    High up in a balloon,\n  You soon will pass the portals,\n    Beyond the crescent moon.\n  Then Shadowland will come in view,\n    A dream within a dream;\n      So keep in your sleep\n        While we keep up the steam;\n      While the midnight hours are all a-creep,\n        And we are all a-beam.\n\n  The spirits of the fairies\n    This eve are very bright,\n  For in your nest the mare is\n    Who only rides by night.\n  Into a magic sphere you go,\n    A dream within a dream.\n      So keep in your sleep,\n        While we keep up the steam,\n      For Shadow Land is deep and steep,\n        And we are all a-beam.\n\nWith a bump, and a thump, and a jump, the balloon burst against the\nwall, and Maude and Willie felt themselves dropping, dropping, dropping,\nuntil the Zankiwank bounced up and caught them both in his arms, saying\nas he rushed forward:--\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Quick, the gates are only open for five seconds once a week, and if we\ndon't get inside at once we shall be jammed in the door-way.\"\n\nSo into Shadow Land they tumbled as the porter mumbled and grumbled and\nshut the gate with a boom and a bang after them.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nPart III\n\nA Visit to Shadow Land\n\n\n  _Swift as a shadow, short as any dream;\n  Bright as the lightning in the collied night,\n  That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth,\n  And ere a man hath power to say \"Behold!\"\n  The jaws of darkness do devour it up:\n  So quick bright things come to confusion._\n                                                          SHAKESPEARE.\n\n\n  _There's a crushing and a crashing--there's a flaring and a flashing,\n  There's a rushing and a dashing, as if crowds were hurrying by--\n  There's a screaming and a shouting, as a multitude was routing,\n  And phantom forms were flouting the blackness of the sky,\n  And in mockery their voices are lifted wild and high,\n    As they lilt a merry measure while they fly._\n                                                        J. L. FORREST.\n\n\n\n\nA Visit to Shadow Land\n\n\n\"This,\" cheerily explained the Zankiwank, \"is Shadow Land, where\neverything is mist, though nothing is ever found, because nothing is\never lost, for you cannot lose nothing unless you have nothing to gain.\nConsequently I shall leave you to find out everything else,\" with which\nnonsensical introduction the Zankiwank caught hold of the wings of a\nhouse, sprang on to the gables, and flew down the nearest chimney,\nfollowed by all the dancers they had seen below, including the\nJackarandajam and all the residents from Story-Book Land of whom you can\nthink. But if you cannot think of all of them yourself, ask your sisters\nto think for you.\n\nIt certainly was a Land of Shadows, where revolving lights like flashes\nfrom a lighthouse sent all sorts of varying rays right through the\nmists, presenting to them a fresh panorama of views every other minute\nor so. The shadows danced all through the place, which seemed like a\nlarge plateau or table-land, near a magnificent stretch of ocean which\nthey could see before them with ships passing to and fro incessantly.\nAnd all the time, goblins, hob, nob and otherwise, red, blue, and green,\nkept rushing backwards and forwards, sometimes with a whole school of\nchildren following madly in their wake. Such a dashing and a crashing\nwas never seen or heard before, and as each creature carried his shadow\nwith him, you can just imagine what a lot of lights and shades there\nmust have been. Occasionally there would be a slight lull in the\nexcitement, and the racing and the rushing would cease for awhile. Each\ntime that there was a pause in the seemingly endless races, a quaint\nround-faced little person, dressed in short petticoats, sky blue\nstockings and a crimson peaked hat, stepped from Nowhere in particular,\nand either sang a song herself or introduced a small girl spirit, or\nboy spirit, who did so for her.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe first time, she descended on to the plateau on a broom, and\nintroduced herself by throwing a light from the magic lantern which she\ncarried, on to a sheet of water which she unfolded, and thereon appeared\nthis announcement:--\n\n  I AM THE GREAT LITTLE WINNY WEG.\n\nBut as neither Willie nor Maude knew what a Winny Weg was, they were\nnecessarily compelled to await further developments. However, as none\ncame, they listened carefully to her song, which, as far as I can\nremember, was like this:--\n\n\nTHE FUNNY LITTLE MAN.\n\n  I am going to tell a story of a little girl I knew,\n  She had a little sweetheart no bigger than my shoe;\n  She used to sit and sew all day--he used to run and play,\n  And when she tried to chide him, this is all that he would say:\n\n  O my! Here's such a jolly spree!\n  Sally Water's coming with Jack Sheppard into tea,\n  She's bringing Baby Bunting with old Mother Hubbard's Dog,\n  And little Jacky Horner with the Roly Poly Frog.\n  O my! it fills my heart with glee!\n  The House that Jack is building isn't big enough for me!\n\n  In time these two got married and they took a little house,\n  And soon a tiny baby came, no bigger than a mouse;\n  But still the little husband played at skipping rope and top\n  With all the little girls and boys, and drank their ginger-pop.\n\n  O my! this funny little Sam\n  Thought the world was bread and cheese, and all the trees were jam;\n  He stood his baby on its head, and played at shuttlecock,\n  And then he rocked himself to sleep with cakes of almond-rock.\n  O my! he was a sniggadee!\n  He went to bed at one o'clock and rose at half-past three.\n\n  Now once they gave a party, and sweet Cinderella came\n  With Blue Beard and Red Riding Hood and little What's-His-Name;\n  And Nelly Bly who winked her eye and Greedy Tommy Stout,\n  Bo-Peep and Tam O'Shanter, and likewise Colin Clout.\n\n  O my! it was a jolly spree!\n  Ev'ry one from Fairy Land and Fiddle Faddle Fee,\n  And Mary brought her Little Lamb, from which they all had chops,\n  While Puck and Cupid served them with some hot boiled acid drops.\n  O my! it was a happy spread,\n  They all sat down on toadstools and in mushrooms went to bed.\n\n  As time went on, and he grew grey, he took to flying kites,\n  And then he took to staying out so very late o' nights!\n  One day he thought he was a bird and flew up in the air,\n  And if you listen you will hear singing now up there:--\n\n  O my! I'm such a funny Coon,\n  I'm going to get some green cheese away up in the Moon;\n  I'm going to see the Evening Star, to ask him why he blinks,\n  Also the Sun to ascertain about the things she thinks.\n  O my! I feel so gay and free,\n  I'm going to call on Father Time and then return to tea.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe two children were so absorbed in listening to this rhyming rigmarole\nthat they did not observe the Winny Weg depart, though, when they came\nto think of it, the last verse was sung in the clouds, and presumably\nby the Funny Little Man himself, and they quite longed for him to pay\nthem a call. But he didn't, so the goblins started off once more on\ntheir wild career, this time on horseback, making such a hammering and a\nclattering as almost to deafen them.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nQuickly in the rear of the white horses and the spirits, who all wore\nlittle round caps with tassels at the top, came a procession of\ndolls--wax dolls, wooden dolls, and saw-dust dolls, very finely dressed,\nwith here and there a doll who had lost a leg, or an arm, or a head,\nwhile some were quite cripples, and had to be carried by a train of tiny\ngirls in very short frocks and very long sashes. At the head of these\nappeared the Winny Weg again, and just as they were vanishing in the\nshadows, a regular shower of broken dolls came down in dreadful\ndisorder, causing the children to break from their ranks to gather up\ntheir property, as the dolls, it was evident, were their own old\ncompanions which they had discarded when new ones were given to them.\nOne particularly disreputable doll, with a broken nose and a very\nbattered body, was claimed by the prettiest child of all, and as she\npicked it up, she stepped into the centre of a ring formed by her\nschool-fellows, and recited to them this pathetic poem:--\n\n\nTHE UNFORTUNATE DOLL.\n\n  O poor Dolly! O pitty sing!\n    An' did um have a fall?\n  Some more tourt plaster I must bling\n    Or else oo'll squeam and squall!\n  I never knew a doll like oo--\n    Oo must have been made yong;\n  I don't fink oo were born twite new--\n    Oo never have been stwong!\n\n  I held oo to the fire one day\n    To make oose body warm;\n  And melted oose poor nose away--\n    And then oo lost oose form.\n  Yen some yude boy, to my surplise,\n    Said oo had dot a stwint;\n  And yen he painted both oose eyes\n    And wapped oo up in lint.\n\n  Your yosey cheeks were nets to fade,\n    Oose blush bedan to do;\n  And now I'm welly much aflaid\n    Oose lost oose big yight toe.\n  Oose left leg is no longer left,\n    Oose yight arm's left oo too;\n  And of your charm oo is beyeft,\n    And no doll tums to woo!\n\n  And oose a hollow little fing,\n    Oose saw-dust has yun out;\n  Your stweak is gone, oo cannot sing,\n    Oose lips tan't form a pout.\n  Oose hair is dyed, an' all is done,\n    Oose ears are in oose neck;\n  An' so my Dolly, darling one,\n    Oo _is_ a fearful weck.\n  It is too bad--I loved oo so--\n    That oo should die so soon,\n  An' to the told, told drave must do\n    This velly afternoon!\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAfter this affecting recital they all took out their \"hankelwiches,\" as\nthe owner of the Unfortunate Doll said, and placing themselves in line,\nthey followed, as mourners, the remains of the deceased doll to the end\nof a back garden, which some of the goblins had brought in with them.\nThen everything faded away again, and more shadows danced on the land\nand the sea, until nothing was to be seen but the galloping sprites and\nthe Winny Weg, who was dancing in a corner all by herself.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n[Illustration]\n\nA pink light now burst through the haze, the goblins rode off, and a\nperfect fairy-land nursery was unfolded before Maude and Willie, who\nwere reclining peacefully on a golden couch with silver cushions. They\nhad no desire to talk, but were content to drink in all that they saw\nrapturously and silently. The nursery was crowded, wee baby-kins were\ncrawling about everywhere, with a dozen coy cupid-like dots with bows\nand arrows. And right away at the back a beautiful garden was disclosed,\nin which happy young couples were seen perambulating arm-in-arm, talking\nsoft nothings to each other. Meanwhile the crawling babies in the\nUniversal Nursery began to stand up; and then commenced such a game of\nleap-frog by these tiny mites, that made even the Cheshire Cat smile. It\nwas so funny to hear these dots call out to each other to tuck in their\n\"tuppennies,\" and to see them flying, without stopping to take breath,\nover each other's backs. Even the little pink and blue cupids laughed\nuntil the babies crept back to their cribs once more, and were rocked\noff to sleep as the Winny Weg waved her wand, and an unseen choir of\nlittle girls and boys was heard singing this Lullaby:--\n\n\nO WE ARE SO SLEEPY!\n\n  O we are so sleepy!\n    Blinky, winky eyes:\n  Why are you so peepy\n    Ere the twilight dies?\n  See! the dustman calleth\n    As the shadows creep;\n  Eve's dark mantle falleth,\n    And we long to sleep.\n\n        To sleep! To sleep!\n          O we are so sleepy!\n            Blinky, winky eyes:\n          Why are you so peepy\n            Ere the twilight dies?\n\n  O we are so sleepy:\n    Nodding is each head,\n  Playing at bo-peepy,\n    Now the day is sped.\n  Birdies in their nesties\n    Rest in slumber deep;\n  Nodland's full of guesties\n    When we go to sleep.\n\n        To sleep! To sleep!\n          O we are so sleepy!\n            Blinky, winky eyes:\n          Why are you so peepy\n            When the twilight dies?\n\nThe slight mist that had descended went up just like a gauze curtain,\nbringing into view again the lovely garden reposing in the rear in a\nbeautiful green bath of light.\n\nThen the merry Winny Weg caught hold of the cupids and incited them to\ndance a slow gavotte, and as they danced they warbled lusciously:--\n\n\nCUPID'S GARDEN.\n\n  O chaste and sweet are the flowers that blow\n    In Cupid's Garden fair;\n  Shy Pansies for thoughts in clusters grow,\n    And Lilies pure and rare.\n  Violets white, and Violets blue,\n    And budding Roses red,\n  With Orange-bloom of tend'rest hue\n    Their fragrance gently spread.\n\nOther voices, which seemed to belong to the lads and lasses in the\ngarden, joined in the chorus:--\n\n        Love is born of the Lily and Rose,\n          Love in a garden springs;\n        With maidens pure and bright it grows,\n          And in all hearts it sings.\n\n  Love lies Bleeding with Maiden's Blush,\n    Sighing Forget-me-not;\n  While the Gentle Heart with crimson flush\n    Peeps from its cooling grot.\n  And Love lies dreaming in idleness\n    To gain its own Heart's-Ease;\n  The Zephyrs breathe with shy caress,\n    Each youthful breast to please.\n\n        Love is born of the Lily and Rose,\n          Love in a garden springs;\n        With maidens pure and bright it grows,\n          And for all hearts it sings.\n\nHow delicious and soothing Shadow Land was! Shadow Land! The Land of\nYesterday, To-Day and To-morrow. The Land of Hope, and Joy and Peace.\nThe two children wandered off, as it were, into a dream for a time, and\nwhen they gazed again, the garden was more delightful than ever--a\njoyous blend of Spring and Summer seemed to invade the grounds, while\nmany of the flowers and trees showed slight signs of Autumn tinting. In\none corner of the garden a magnificent marble and bronze fountain\nunexpectedly sprang up through the ground and played unceasingly to the\nethereal skies. Merry children danced and played around its base, and\nlovers young and old promenaded affectionately up and down the\ninnumerable groves, stopping now and then to offer each other a draught\nof the sparkling water that fell so deliciously into the amber cups.\n\nThere were no shadows now. All was bright and glorious; sunlight and\npleasure reigned supreme. From the clouds unseen singers sang softly to\nthe people as they passed and repassed, and this was the story of their\nsong:--\n\n  In a garden stood a fountain,\n    Sparkling in the noon-day sun,\n  Rising like a crystal mountain--\n    Never ceasing--never done!\n  Happy children came there playing,\n    Laughing in their frolic glee;\n  'Mong the flow'rs and brambles straying,\n    Tasting life's sweet ecstasy.\n\n              O fountain pure and bright,\n                Dance in the joyous sun;\n              And sparkle in your might,\n                Until all life is done.\n\n  In the summer came the lovers,\n    Plighting troth beneath its shade;\n  Warm heart's secret each discovers--\n    Happy youth and happy maid!\n  Plays the fount so soft and featly\n    In the breeze of waning day,\n  As the lovers whisper sweetly,\n    \"I will love you, love alway.\"\n\n              O fountain pure and bright,\n                Dance in the joyous sun;\n              And sparkle in your might\n                Until all life is done.\n\n  In the winter, cold and dreary,\n    Cease the waters in their play;\n  But the lovers, grey and weary,\n    Seek the tryst of yesterday!\n  Time and tide flow on for ever,\n    Heedless of man's joy or pain;\n  But beyond the tideless river\n    Trusting hearts will meet again.\n\n              O fountain pure and bright,\n                Dance in the joyous sun;\n              And sparkle in your might,\n                Until all life is done.\n\nThe voices faded and died away; the scene changed and a purple curtain\ndescended, hiding everything and everybody except the Winny Weg. An\nextraordinary commotion outside warned the half-dozing children that a\nfresh flight of goblins might be expected. And sure enough in stalked an\narmy of giants from one side, who were met by an army of dwarfs from the\nother, the latter on stilts. But the curious thing about them was that\nthe giants had only got one eye, which was stuck on the ends of their\nnoses, while the dwarfs had their eyes where their ears ought to be, and\ntheir ears in the place usually reserved for the eyes. Besides which\nthey each had a large horn fixed in the middle of their foreheads.\n\nBoth armies expressed surprise at seeing each other, the leaders of\nwhich said quite calmly, as though they were asking one another to have\na penny bun cut up in four between them--both said quite calmly--\n\n\"I suppose we must fight now we have met?\"\n\nUpon hearing this the Winny Weg mounted her broom-stick and flew up out\nof harm's way.\n\nAnd then commenced the most terrible battle ever seen on land or sea.\nThey fought with penknives and darning-needles, the battle lasted half\nan hour, and only one stilt was injured. So they began again, using coal\nscuttles and tongs, and the din was so fearful, and the giants and the\ndwarfs got so mixed up that a railway train filled with Shadows of the\nPast rushed on and sent both armies flying. Then the shadows deepened\nand deepened, and the lightning flashed, the thunders crashed, the sea\nroared, and a great red cavern opened and swallowed up everything,\nincluding Maude and Willie, who certainly were not quite awake to what\nwas going forward, and all they could recollect of the occurrence was\nthat they saw the winkles and the shrimps on the sea-shore playing at\nbowls with the cockles.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nPart IV\n\nThe Land of Topsy Turvey\n\n\n  _In the noon of night, o'er the stormy hills\n    The fairy minstrels play;\n  And the strains replete with fantastic dreams,\n    On the wild gusts flit away.\n  Then the sleeper thinks, as the dreamful song\n    On the blast to his slumber comes,\n  That his nose as the church's spire is long,\n    And like its organ hums!_\n                                                     R. D. WILLIAMS.\n\n\n  _Wouldst know what tricks, by the pale moonlight,\n    Are played by one, the merry little Sprite?\n  I wing through air from the camp to the court,\n  From King to clown, and of all make sport,\n    Singing I am the Sprite\n    Of the merry midnight\n  Who laughs at weak mortals and loves the moonlight._\n                                                       THOMAS MOORE.\n\n\n\n\nThe Land of Topsy Turvey\n\n\nIf Maude and Willie had been in a state of somnolency during their\nsojourn in Shadow Land, they felt themselves very much awake on reaching\nthe land of Topsy Turvey. They knew they were in Topsy Turvey Land\nbecause they were greeted with a jingling chorus to that effect\nimmediately they opened their eyes:--\n\n  O this is Topsy Turvey Land,\n  Where ev'ry one is gay and bland,\n    And day is always night.\n  We welcome to all strangers give,\n  For by their custom we must live,\n    Because we're so polite.\n\n  O this is Topsy Turvey Land,\n  And all our goods are in demand,\n    By mortal, fay and sprite.\n  Our novelties are warranted,\n  And through the land their fame is spread,\n    Because we're so polite.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nSurely they had been whisked back to Charing Cross again without knowing\nit? The long wide thoroughfare in which the children now found\nthemselves was just like one of the main shopping streets in London.\nSome parts reminded them of Regent Street, some of the Strand, and some\nof Oxford Street. Yes, and there was the Lowther Arcade, only somehow a\nlittle different. It was odd. Toy shops, novelty stores, picture shops,\nand shops of all sorts and sizes greeted them on either hand. Moreover,\nthere were the shopkeepers and their assistants, and crowds of people\nhurrying by, jostling the loungers and the gazers; and the one\npoliceman, who was talking to a fat person in a print gown who was\nstanding at the area steps of the only private house they could see.\nThey were wondering what they should do when the policeman cried out:--\n\n\"Come along there! Now then, move on!\" How rude of him. However, they\n\"moved on,\" and were nearly knocked down by the Zankiwank, who darted\ninto the post-office to receive a telegram and to send one in reply.\n\nThey followed him, of course; they knew the telegram was from the\nBletherwitch, and the Zankiwank read it out to them:--\n\n     \"Fashions in bonnets changed. Have ordered six mops. Don't\n     forget the cauliflower. Postpone the wedding at once. No\n     cards.\"\n\n\"Now what does that mean,\" murmured the expectant bridegroom. \"My\nBletherwitch cannot be well. I'll send her some cough lozenges.\" So he\nwrote a reply and despatched it:--\n\n     \"Take some cough drops every five minutes. Have ordered\n     cucumber for supper. Pay the cabman and come by electricity.\"\n\n\"That certainly should induce her to come, don't you think so? She is so\nvery sensitive. Well, I must not be impatient, she is exceedingly\ncharming when you catch her in the right mood.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nMaude scarcely believed that the Bletherwitch could possess so many\ncharms, or she would not keep her future husband waiting so long for\nher. But she knew it was useless offering any advice on so delicate a\nsubject, so she and Willie begged the Zankiwank to be their guide and to\nshow them the Lions of Topsy Turvey, which he readily agreed to do.\n\nAnd now, as they left the post-office, they turned their attention to\nthe shops and were surprised to read the names over the windows of\nseveral individuals they had already met in the train. For instance, the\nWimble lived next door to the Wamble, and each one had printed in the\nwindow a very curious legend.\n\nThis is what the Wamble had:--\n\n  GOOD RESOLUTIONS BOUGHT, SOLD\n  AND EXCHANGED.\n\n  A FEW BAD, AND SOME SLIGHTLY DAMAGED,\n  TO BE DISPOSED OF--A BARGAIN.\n\n  _No connection with the business next door._\n\nWhile the Wimble stated the nature of his wares as follows:--\n\n  BAD RESOLUTIONS BOUGHT, SOLD\n  AND EXCHANGED.\n\n  A FEW GOOD, AND SOME SLIGHTLY INDIFFERENT,\n  TO BE DISPOSED OF--A BARGAIN.\n\n  _No connection with the business next door._\n\n\"No connection with the business next door,\" repeated Willie.\n\n\"Why, you told us that they were brothers--twins,\" indignantly cried\nMaude.\n\n\"So they are! So they are! Don't you see they are twins from a family\npoint of view only. In business, of course, they are desperately opposed\nto each other. That is why they are so prosperous,\" explained the\nZankiwank.\n\n\"Are they prosperous? I never heard of such a thing as buying and\nselling Resolutions. How can one buy a Good Resolution?\" enquired Maude.\n\n\"Or exchange Bad Resolutions,\" said Willie. \"It is quite wicked.\"\n\n\"Not at all. Not at all. So many people make Good Resolutions and never\ncarry them out, therefore if there were no place where you could\ndispose of them they would be wasted.\"\n\n\"But Bad Resolutions? Nobody makes Bad Resolutions--at least they ought\nnot to, and I don't believe it is true!\"\n\n\"Pardon me,\" interrupted the Zankiwank. \"If you make a Good Resolution\nand don't carry it out--doesn't it become a Bad Resolution? Answer me\nthat.\"\n\nThis, however, was an aspect of the question that had never occurred to\nthem, and they were unable to reply.\n\n\"It seems to me to be nonsense--and worse than nonsense--for one brother\nto deal in Bad Resolutions and the other in Good Resolutions. Why do not\nthey become a Firm and mix the two together?\" responded Maude.\n\n\"You horrify me! Mix the Good and the Bad together? That would never do.\nThe Best Resolutions in the world would be contaminated if they were all\nwarehoused under one roof. Besides, the Wimble is himself full of Good\nResolutions, so that he can mingle with the Bad without suffering any\nevil, while the Wamble is differently constituted!\"\n\nThe children did not understand the Zankiwank's argument a bit--it all\nseemed so ridiculous. A sudden thought occurred to Willie.\n\n\"Who, then, collects the Resolutions?\"\n\n\"Oh, a person of no Resolution whatever. He commenced life with only one\nResolution, and he lost it, or it got mislaid, or he never made use of\nit, or something equally unfortunate, and so he was christened Want of\nResolution, and he does the collecting work very well, considering all\nthings.\"\n\nNo doubt the Zankiwank knew what he was talking about, but as the\nchildren did not--what did it signify? Therefore they asked no more\nquestions, but went along the street marvelling at all they saw. The\nnext shop at which they stopped was kept by\n\n  JORUMGANDER THE YOUNGER,\n  DEALER IN MAGIC AND MYSTERY.\n\n\"Jorumgander the Younger is not of much use now,\" said the Zankiwank\nsorrowfully. \"He chiefly aims at making a mystery of everything, but so\nmany people not engaged in trade make a mystery of nothing every day,\nthat he is sadly handicapped. And most sensible people hate a mystery of\nany kind, unless it belongs to themselves, so that he finds customers\nvery shy. Once upon a time he would get hold of a simple story and turn\nit into such a gigantic mystery that all the world would be mystified.\nBut those happy days are gone, and he thinks of turning his business\ninto a company to sell Original Ideas, when he knows where to find\nthem.\"\n\n\"I don't see what good can come of making a mystery of\nanything--especially if anything is true,\" sagaciously remarked\nMaude.\n\n\"But _anything_ is not true. Nor is _anything_ untrue. There is the\ndifficulty. If anything were true, nothing would be untrue, and then\nwhere should we be?\"\n\n\"Nowhere,\" said Willie without thinking.\n\n\"Exactly. That is just where we are now, and a very nice place it is.\nThere is one thing, however, that Jorumgander the Younger--there he is\nwith the pink eye-brows and green nose. Don't say anything about his\npersonal appearance. What I was going to say he will say instead. It is\na habit we have occasionally. He is my grandfather, you know.\"\n\n\"Your grandfather! What! that young man? Why, he is not more than\ntwenty-two and three quarters, I'm sure,\" replied Maude.\n\n\"You are right. He _is_ twenty-two and three quarters. You don't quite\nunderstand our relationships. The boy, as you have no doubt heard, is\nfather to the man. Very well. I am the man. When he was a boy on my\naunt's side he was father to me. That's plain enough. He has grown older\nsince then, though he is little more than a boy in discretion still,\ntherefore he is my grandfather.\"\n\n\"How very absurdly you do talk, Mr Zankiwank,\" laughed Willie; \"but here\nis your grandfather,\" and at that moment Jorumgander the Younger left\nhis shop and approached them with a case of pens which he offered for\nsale.\n\n\"Try my Magic Pens. They are the best in the market, because there are\nno others. There is no demand for them, and few folk will have them for\na gift. Therefore I can highly recommend them.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"How can you recommend your pens, when you declare that nobody will buy\nthem?\" demanded Willie.\n\n\"Because they are a novelty. They are Magic Pens, you know, and of\ncourse as nobody possesses any, they must be rare. That is logic, I\nthink.\"\n\n\"Buy one,\" said the Zankiwank, \"he has not had any supper yet.\"\n\n\"In what way are they Magic Pens?\" enquired Maude.\n\n\"Ah! I thought I should find a customer between Michaelmas and May Day,\"\ncried Jorumgander the Younger, quite cheerfully. \"The beauty of these\npens is that they never tell a story.\"\n\n\"But suppose you want to write a story?\"\n\n\"That is a different thing. If you have the ability to write a story you\nwon't want a Magic Pen. These pens are only for every-day use. For\nexample: if you want to write to your charwoman to tell her you have got\nthe toothache, and you haven't got the toothache, the Magic Pen refuses\nto lend itself to telling a--a----\"\n\n\"Crammer,\" suggested Willie.\n\n\"Crammer. Thank you. I don't know what it means, but crammer is the\ncorrect word. The Magic Pen will simplify the truth whether you wish to\ntell it or not.\"\n\n\"I do not understand,\" whispered Maude.\n\n\"Let me try to explain,\" said Jorumgander the Younger politely. \"The\nMagic Pen will only write exactly what you think--what is in your mind,\nwhat you ought to say, whether you wish to or not.\"\n\n\"A very useful article, I am sure,\" said the Zankiwank. \"I gave six\ndozen away last Christmas, but nobody used them after a few days, and I\ncan't think why.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" sighed Jorumgander the Younger, \"and I have had all my stock\nreturned on my hands. The first day I opened my shop I sold more than I\ncan remember. And the next morning all the purchasers came and wanted\ntheir money back. They said if they wanted to tell the truth, they knew\nhow to do it, and did not want to be taught by an evil-disposed nib. But\nI am afraid they were not speaking the truth then, at any rate. Here,\nlet me make you a present of one a-piece, and you can write and tell me\nall about yourselves when you go home. Meanwhile, as the streets are\ncrowded, and our policeman is not looking, let us sing a quiet song to\ncelebrate the event.\"\n\n  We sing of the Magic Pen\n    That never tells a story,\n  That in the hands of men\n    Would lead them on to glory.\n  For what you ought to do,\n    And you should all be saying,\n  In fact of all things true\n    This pen will be bewraying.\n\n      So let us sing a roundelay--\n        Pop goes the Weazel;\n      Treacle's four pence a pound to-day,\n        Which we think should please all.\n\nWhat the chorus had to do with the song nobody knew, but they all sang\nit--everybody in the street, and all the customers in the shops as well,\nand even the policeman sang the last line.\n\n  You take it in your hand\n    And set yourself a-writing;\n  No matter what you've planned,\n    The truth 'twill be inditing.\n  And thus you cannot fail,\n    To speak your mind correctly,\n  And honestly you'll sail,\n    But never indirectly.\n\n      So let us sing a roundelay--\n        Pop goes the Weazel;\n      Treacle's four pence a pound to-day,\n        Which we think will please all!\n\nAgain everybody danced and sang till the policeman told them to \"move\non,\" when Jorumgander the Younger put up his shutters and went away.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"A most original man,\" exclaimed the Zankiwank; \"he ought to have been a\npostman!\"\n\n\"A postman!--why?\"\n\n\"Because he was always such a capital boy with his letters. He knew his\nalphabet long before he could spell, and now he knows every letter you\ncan think of.\"\n\n\"I don't see anything very original in that,\" said Willie. \"There are\nonly twenty-six letters in the English language that he can know!\"\n\n\"Only twenty-six letters! Dear me, why millions of people are writing\nfresh letters every day, and he knows them all directly he sees them! I\nhope you will go to school some day and learn differently from that!\nOnly twenty-six letters,\" repeated the Zankiwank in wonderment, \"only\ntwenty-six letters.\" Then he cried suddenly, \"How convenient it would be\nif everybody was his own Dictionary!\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"That is impossible. One cannot be a book.\"\n\n\"Oh yes, nothing simpler. Let everybody choose his own words and give\nhis own meaning to them!\"\n\n\"What use would that be?\" asked Willie.\n\n\"None whatever, because if you always had your own meaning you would\nnot want anybody else to be meaning anything! What a lot of trouble that\nwould save! I'll ask the Jackarandajam to make one for me--why, here he\nis!\"\n\nThe children recognised the Jackarandajam immediately and shook hands\nwith him.\n\n\"I am so glad to see you all. I have just been suffering from a most\nsevere attack of Inspiration.\"\n\n\"How very inexplicable--I beg your pardon,\" moaned the Zankiwank. \"It is\na little difficult, but it is, I believe, a strictly proper word--though\nI do not pretend to know its meaning.\"\n\nThe Jackarandajam accepted the apology by gracefully bowing, though\nneither felt quite at ease.\n\n\"What is the use of saying things you don't mean?\" asked Maude.\n\n\"None at all, that is the best of it, because we are always doing\nsomething without any reason.\"\n\nTo attempt to argue with the Zankiwank Maude knew was futile, so she\nmerely enquired how the Jackarandajam felt after his attack of\nInspiration, and what he took for it.\n\n\"Nothing,\" was the simple rejoinder. \"It comes and it goes, and there\nyou are--at least most of the time.\"\n\n\"What is Inspiration?\" said Willie.\n\nThe Zankiwank and the Jackarandajam both shook their heads in a solemn\nmanner, and looked as wise as the Sphinx. Then the former answered\nslowly and deliberately--\n\n\"Inspiration is the sort of thing that comes when you do not fish for\nit.\"\n\n\"But,\" said Willie, who did not quite see the force of the explanation,\n\"you can't fish for a great many things and of course nothing comes. How\ndo you manage then?\"\n\nThis was a decided poser, beating them at their own game, so the\nZankiwank sent another telegram, presumably to the Bletherwitch, and the\nJackarandajam made a fresh cigarette, which he carefully refrained from\nsmoking. Then he turned to the two children and said mournfully--\n\n\"Have you seen my new invention? Ah! it was the result of my recent\nattack of Inspiration. Come with me and I will show you.\" Thereupon he\nled the way to a large square, with a nice garden in the centre, where\nall the houses had bills outside to inform the passers by that these\n\n  DESIRABLE REVOLVING RESIDENCES\n  WERE TO BE\n  LET OR SOLD.\n\n\"All my property. I had the houses built myself from my own plans. Come\ninside the first.\"\n\nSo they followed the Jackarandajam and entered the first house.\n\n\"The great advantage of these houses,\" he declared, \"is that you can\nturn them round to meet the sun at will. They are constructed on a new\nprinciple, being fixed on a pivot. You see I turn this handle by the\nhall door, and Hey Presto! we are looking into the back garden, while\nthe kitchen is round at the front!\"\n\nAnd such was the fact! The house would move any way one wished simply by\nturning the electric handle.\n\n\"It is so convenient, you see, if you don't want to be at home to any\nvisitor. When you see anyone coming up the garden path, you move the\ncrank and away you go, and your visitor, to his well-bred consternation,\nfinds himself gazing in at the kitchen window. And then he naturally\ndeparts with many misgivings as to the state of his health. Especially\nif the cook is taken by surprise. You should never take a cook by\nsurprise. It always spoils her photograph.\"\n\n\"Oh dear! Oh dear!\" cried Maude, \"why will you say such contradictory\nthings! I don't see the sense of having such a house at all. It would\nupset things so.\"\n\n\"Besides,\" chimed in Willie, \"you would never have any aspect or\nprospect.\"\n\n\"Are they both good to eat?\" said the Jackarandajam, eagerly.\n\n\"Of course not. I meant that your house would first be facing the East,\nand then South, and then West, and then North, and what would be the use\nof that?\"\n\n\"No use whatever. That's why we do it. Oh, but do not laugh. We are not\nquite devoid of reason, because we are all mad!\"\n\n\"Are you really mad?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" was the gay response, \"we don't mind it a bit. We are all as\ncrooked as a teetotaler's corkscrew! I am glad you do not like the\nRevolving Houses, because I am going to sell them to the Clerk of the\nWeather and his eight new assistants!\"\n\n\"I did not know the Clerk of the Weather required any assistance,\"\nexclaimed Willie, though personally he did not know the Clerk of the\nWeather.\n\n\"Oh yes, he must have assistants. He does things so badly, and with\neight more he will, if he is careful, do them worse.\"\n\nHere was another one of those contradictions that the children could not\nunderstand. I hope you can't, because I don't myself, generally. The\nJackarandajam went on reflectively:--\n\n\"It is bound to happen. The Clerk of the Weather has only one\nassistant now, and it takes the two of them to do a Prog--Prog--don't\ninterrupt me--a Prog--Prognostication!--phew, what a beautiful\nword!--Prognostication ten minutes now. Therefore it stands to reason,\nas the Sun Dial remarked, that nine could do it in much less time!\"\n\n\"You will excuse me,\" halloed the Zankiwank down the next door\ndining-room chimney, \"I beg to differ from you. That is to say on the\ncontrary. For instance:--If it takes two people ten minutes to do a\nprog--you must fill in the rest yourself--prog--of course, as there are\nso many more to do the same thing, it must take them forty-five\nminutes.\"\n\n\"What a brain,\" exclaimed the Jackarandajam, ecstatically; \"he ought to\nhave been born a Calculating Machine. He beats Euclid and that fellow\nnamed Smith on all points. I never thought of it in the light of\nmultiplying the addition.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"More nonsense,\" observed Willie to Maude. \"What does it all mean?\" They\nlooked out of window and saw the Zankiwank arguing with the Clerk of\nthe Weather and the Weather Cock on top of the vane of a large building\noutside. Every minute they expected to see them tumble down, but they\ndid not, so to cheer them up the Jackarandajam stood on his head and\nsang them this comic song:--\n\n\nTHE CLERK OF THE WEATHER.\n\n  The Clerk of the Weather went out to walk\n    All down Victoria Street;\n  Of late his ways had caused much talk,\n    And chatter indiscreet.\n  So he donned a suit of mingled sleet,\n    With a dash of falling snow,\n  A rainy tie, and a streaky skye\n    Which barked where'er he'd go.\n\nThen, to the surprise of Willie and Maude, the Jackarandajam began to\ndance wildly, while the Weather Cock sang as follows:--\n\n      O cock-a-doodle-doo!\n        The weather will be fine--\n      If it does not sleet or hail or snow,\n      And if it does not big guns blow,\n        And the sun looks out to shine.\n\nThe Jackarandajam stood on his head again and sang the second verse:--\n\n  Wrapt up in his thoughts he went along,\n    His manner sad and crossed;\n  With a windy strain he hummed a song,\n    Of thunderbolts and frost.\n  He strode with a Barometrical stride,\n    With forecasts on his brow;\n  Till he tripped up Short upon a slide,\n    Which made him vow a vow.\n\nThe Weather Cock at once sang the chorus and the Jackarandajam danced as\nbefore.\n\n      O Cock-a-doodle-doo!\n        The weather will be fine--\n      If there is no fog, or drenching rain,\n      And thunder does not boom again,\n        And the sun looks out to shine.\n\nNow came the third and last verse:--\n\n  His prophesies got all mixed and mulled,\n    The Moon began to blink;\n  And all his faculties were dulled\n    When he saw the Dog Star wink!\n  And up on the steeple tall and black\n    The Weather Cock he crew!\n  He crew and he crowed till he fell in the road,\n    O cock-a-doodle-doo!\n\nAnd sure enough the Weather Cock did tumble into the road, and the Clerk\nof the Weather and the Zankiwank tumbled helter skelter after him.\nImmediately they got up again and rushed through the window, and\ncatching hold of the children, they whirled them round and round,\nsinging the final chorus all together:--\n\n      O cock-a-doodle-doo!\n        The weather will be fine--\n      If lightning does not flash on high,\n      Nor gloomy be the azure sky,\n        And the sun peeps out to shine.\n\nAfter which they all disappeared except the Zankiwank, and once again\nthey found themselves in the street.\n\n\"They were both wrong,\" muttered the Zankiwank to himself, \"and yet one\nwas right.\"\n\n\"How could they both be wrong then? One was right? Very well. Then only\none was wrong,\" corrected Maude.\n\n\"No, they were both wrong--because I was the right one after all.\nBesides, you can't always prove a negative, can you?\"\n\n\"How tiresome of you! You only mentioned two and now say three. I do not\nbelieve you know what you do mean.\"\n\n\"Not often, sometimes, by accident, you know--only do not tell anybody\nelse.\"\n\n\"You are certainly very extraordinary persons--that is all I can say,\"\nsaid Willie. \"You do not do anything quite rationally or naturally.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Naturally. Why should we? We are the great Middle Classes--neither\nalive nor dead. Betwixt and between. Half and half, you know, for now we\nare in the Spirit World only known to poets and children. But do come\nalong, or the bicycles will start without us, and we have an appointment\nto keep.\"\n\nNow, how could one even try to tell such an eccentric creature as the\nZankiwank that he was all wrong and talking fables and fibs and\ntarra-diddles? Neither of them attempted to correct these erroneous\nideas, but wondering where they were going next, Maude and Willie\nmounted the bicycles that came as if by magic, and rode off at a\nterrific rate, though they had never ridden a machine before.\n\nThey were almost out of breath when the Zankiwank called out \"stop,\" and\naway went the bicycles, and they found themselves standing in front of\nan immense edifice with a sign-board swinging from the gambrel roof, on\nwhich was painted in large golden letters--\n\n  TIME WAS MEANT FOR SLAVES.\n\nThere was no opportunity to ascertain what the sign meant, for all at\nonce there darted out of the shop Mr Swinglebinks with whom they had\ntravelled from Charing Cross.\n\n\"Don't waste your time like that! Make haste, let me have five minutes.\nI am in a hurry.\"\n\n\"Have you got five minutes to spare?\" asked the Zankiwank of Maude.\n\n\"Oh yes,\" she replied. \"Why?\"\n\n\"Let me have them at once then. A gentleman left twenty-five minutes\nbehind him yesterday and I want to make up half-an-hour for a regular\ncustomer!\" screamed Mr Swinglebinks to the bewildered children.\n\n\"But--but--O what do you mean? I have got five minutes to spare and I'll\ndevote them to you if you like, but I _can't_ give them to you as though\nthey were a piece of toffee,\" answered Maude with much perplexity, while\nWillie stood awe-struck, not comprehending Mr Swinglebinks in the least.\n\n\"Time is a tough customer, you know. He is here, he is there, he is\ngone! He is, he was, he will be. Yet you cannot trap Time, for he is\nlike a sunbeam,\" muttered the Zankiwank as though he never was short of\nTime.\n\n\"There, that five minutes is gone--wasted, passed into the vast vacuum\nof eternity! With my friend Shakespeare of Stratford-on-Avon I can tell\nyou all about time! 'Time travels in divers paces with divers persons.\nI'll tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal, who Time\ngallops withal, and who he stands still withal!' Oh, I know Father Time\nand all his tricks. I have counted the Sands of Time. I supply him with\nhis Hour Glass. Don't you apprehend me?\"\n\nThey certainly did not. Mr Swinglebinks was more mystifying than all the\nother persons they had encountered put together. So they made no reply.\n\n\"I am collecting Time. Time, so my copy books told me, was meant for\nSlaves. I always felt sorry for the Slaves. They have no Time, you know,\nbecause it is meant for them. Lots of things are meant for you, only you\nwon't get them. Britons never will be Slaves, so they'll never want for\nTime. However, as Time was meant for Slaves, I mean to let them have as\nmuch as I can. So every spare minute or two I can get, I of course send\nthem over to them.\"\n\n\"It is ridiculous. You cannot measure time and cut off a bit like that,\"\nventured Willie.\n\n\"Oh yes, you can. A client of mine was laid up the other day--in fact he\nwas in bed for a fortnight, so, as he had no use for the time he had on\nhand before him, he just went to sleep and sent ten days round to me!\"\n\n\"Oh, Mr Zankiwank, what is this gentleman saying?\" said Maude.\n\n\"It's all perfectly true,\" answered the Zankiwank. \"You often hear of\nsomebody who has half an hour to spare, don't you?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"Very good. Sometimes you will hear, too, of somebody who has lost ten\nminutes.\"\n\n\"I see,\" said Willie.\n\n\"And somebody else will tell you they do not know what to do with their\nTime?\"\n\n\"Go on,\" cried both children, more puzzled than ever.\n\n\"Well, instead of letting all the Time be wasted, Mr Swinglebinks has\nopened his exchange to receive all the spare time he can, and this he\ndistributes amongst those who want an hour or a day or a week. But they\nhave to pay for it----\"\n\n\"Pay for it?\"\n\n\"Time is money,\" called out Mr Swinglebinks.\n\n\"There you are. If Time is money you can exchange Time for money and\nmoney for Time. Is not that feasible?\"\n\nDid anybody ever hear of such queer notions? Maude and Willie were quite\ntired through trying to think the matter out.\n\nTime was meant for slaves.--Time is money.--Time and Tide\nwait for no man.--Take Time when Time is.--Take Time by the\nforelock.--Procrastination is the thief of Time.--Killing Time is no\nmurder.--Saving Time is no crime. As quick as thought Mr Swinglebinks\nexhibited these statements on his swinging sign, one after the other,\nand then he came to them once again.\n\n\"Are you convinced now? Let me have a quarter of an hour to send to the\npoor slaves. Time was meant for them, you know, and you are using their\nproperty without acknowledgment!\"\n\nThe Zankiwank looked on as wise as an owl, but said nothing.\n\n\"Dear me, how you are wasting your time sitting there doing nothing!\"\nsaid Mr Swinglebinks distractedly. \"Time is money--Time is money. Give\nme some of the Time you are losing.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Let us go, Willie,\" said Maude. \"Do not waste any more Time. We have no\nTime to lose, let alone time to spare! Shall we kill Time?\"\n\nShe had barely finished speaking when Mr Swinglebinks and his Time\nExchange disappeared, and they were alone with the Zankiwank. But not\nfor long, for almost immediately a troop of school children came\nbounding home from school, but children with the oddest heads and faces\never seen. They were all carrying miniature bellows in their hands,\nwhich they were working up and down with great energy.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Oh, Mr Zankiwank, what is the matter with those children in short\nfrocks and knickerbockers? Look at their heads!\"\n\nThe Zankiwank gazed, but expressed no surprise, and yet the children, if\nthey were children, certainly looked very queer, for the boys had got\naged, care-worn faces with moustaches and whiskers, while the little\ngirls, in frocks just reaching to their knees, had women's faces, with\ntheir hair done up in plaits and chignons and Grecian knot fashion, with\nelderly bonnets perched on the top.\n\n\"That,\" said the Zankiwank, \"is the force of habit.\"\n\n\"What habit, please? It does not suit them,\" said Maude.\n\n\"You are mistaken. Good habits become second nature.\"\n\n\"And what do bad habits become?\" queried Willie.\n\n\"Bad habits,\" answered the Zankiwank severely, \"become no one.\"\n\n\"And these must be bad habits,\" exclaimed Willie, pointing to the\nchildren, \"for they do not become them.\"\n\n\"I thought their clothes fitted them very well.\"\n\n\"We don't mean their clothes,\" cried Maude. \"We mean their general\nappearance.\"\n\n\"Ah! you are referring to the unnatural history aspect of the case. You\nmean their heads, of course. They do _not_ fit properly. I have noticed\nit myself. It comes of expecting too much, and overdoing it; it is all\nthe result of what so many people are fond of doing--putting old heads\non young shoulders.\"\n\nSo the mystery was out. The old heads were unmistakably on young\nshoulders. And how very absurd the children looked! Not a bit like happy\ngirls and boys, as they would have been had they possessed their own\nheads instead of over-grown and over-developed minds and brains. Old\nheads never do look well on young shoulders, and it is very foolish of\npeople to think they do. It makes them children of a larger growth\nbefore their time, and is just as bad as having young heads on old\nshoulders. The moral of which is, that you should never be older than\nyou are nor younger than you are not.\n\n\"But what are they doing with those bellows?\" enquired Willie and Maude\ntogether.\n\n\"Raising the wind,\" promptly responded the Zankiwank, \"or trying to.\nWhen folk grow old before their time you will generally find that it is\nowing to the bother they had in raising the wind to keep the pot\nboiling.\"\n\n\"But you don't keep the pot boiling with wind,\" they protested.\n\n\"Oh yes you do, in Topsy-Turvey Land, though personally I believe it to\nbe most unright!\"\n\n\"Un--what?\" exclaimed Maude.\n\n\"Unright. When a thing is wrong it must be unright. Just the same as\nwhen a thing is right it is unwrong.\"\n\nWhile the Zankiwank was giving this very lucid explanation the \"Old\nheads on young shoulders\" children went sedately and mournfully away,\njust as a complete train of newspaper carts dashed up to a large\nestablishment with these words printed outside--\n\n  ATNAGAGDLINTIT RALINGINGINARMIK\n  LUSARUMINASSUMIK.\n\n\"Good gracious, what awful looking words! It surely must be Welsh?\" The\ntwo children put the question to the Zankiwank.\n\n\"No, that is not Welsh. That is the way the Esquimaux of Greenland\nspeak. It is the name of their paper, and means something to read,\ninteresting news of all sorts. But in this newspaper they never print\nany news of any sort. They supply the paper to the Topsy-Turveyites\nevery morning quite blank, so that you can provide yourself with your\nown news. Being perfectly blank, the editors succeed in pleasing all\ntheir subscribers.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\"Well, I do not see any advantage in that.\"\n\n\"There you go again!\" cried the Zankiwank. \"You always want something\nwith an advantage. What's the use of an advantage, I should like to\nknow? You can only lose it. You cannot give it away. Do try to be\noriginal. But listen, Nobody's coming.\"\n\nThey both looked round wondering what the Zankiwank meant by his strange\nperversities, but could not see anyone.\n\n\"We can see Nobody,\" they said.\n\n\"Of course. Here he is!\"\n\nWell! Was it a shadow? Something was there without a doubt, and\ncertainly without a body. It was a sort of skeleton, or a ghost, or\nperhaps a Mahatma! But it was not a Mahatma--it was in fact Nobody, of\nwhom you have of course heard.\n\n\"At last, at last!\" screamed the delighted Zankiwank, \"with your eyes\nwide open and your faculties unimpaired you see NOBODY! And what a\nmemory Nobody has!\"\n\n\"How can Nobody have a memory? Besides, we can see Nobody!\" said Maude,\nmore perplexed than she had ever been.\n\n\"Exactly, Nobody has a charming memory. Memory, as you know, is the\nsense you forget with it!\"\n\n\"Memory,\" corrected Willie, \"is the sense, if it is a sense, or\nimpression you remember with.\"\n\n\"Oh, what dreadful Grammar! Remember with! How can you finish a sentence\nwith a preposition? What do you remember with it?\" demanded the\nZankiwank reprovingly.\n\n\"Anything--everything you want to,\" replied Willie.\n\n\"Another preposition! Ah, if we could only remember as easily as we\nforget!\"\n\n\"You are wandering from the subject,\" suggested Maude. \"The subject is\nNobody, and you have told us nothing about it.\"\n\n\"H'm,\" said the Zankiwank. \"You have confessed that you can see Nobody,\ntherefore I will request him to sing you a topical song. Now keep your\nattention earnestly directed towards Nobody and listen.\"\n\nKnowing from past experience that the Zankiwank would have his own way,\nMaude and Willie, having no one else to think about, thought of Nobody,\nand to their amazement they heard these words sung as from a long way\noff, in a very hollow tone of voice:--\n\n\nNOBODY'S NOTHING TO NOBODY.\n\n  O Nobody's Nothing to Nobody,\n    And yet he is something too;\n  Though No-body's No-Body it yet is so odd he\n    Always finds nothing to do!\n\n  When Nobody does nothing wrong,\n    They say it is the cat;\n  Though Nobody be long and strong\n    And very likely fat.\n  His name is heard from morn till night,\n    He's known in ev'ry place;\n  He does the deeds that are unright,\n    Though no one sees his face.\n\n  Nobody broke the Dresden vase,\n    Nobody ate the cream;\n  Nobody smashed that pipe of pa's,--\n    It happened in a dream.\n  Nobody lost Sophia's doll,\n    Nobody fired Jim's gun;\n  Nobody nearly choked poor Poll--\n    Nobody saw it done!\n\n  Nobody cracks the china cups,\n    Nobody steals the spoons;\n  Nobody in the kitchen sups,\n    Or talks of honeymoons!\n  Nobody courts the parlour-maid,\n    She told us so herself!\n  That Nobody, I'm much afraid,\n    Is quite a tricky elf.\n\n  For Nobody is any one,\n    That must be very clear;\n  Yet Nobody's a constant dun,\n    Though no one saw him here.\n  As Nobody is ever seen\n    In Anybody's shape,\n  Nobody must be epicene\n    And very like an ape!\n\n  For Nobody's Nothing to Nobody,\n    And yet he is something too;\n  Though No-body's No-Body it yet is so odd he\n    Always finds nothing to do!\n\nJust as the song was finished, the Zankiwank cried out in alarm--\n\n\"There's Somebody coming.\"\n\nAnd Nobody disappeared at once, for the children saw Nobody go!\n\n\"And now,\" said the Zankiwank, \"we may expect the Griffin from Temple\nBar and the Phoenix from Arabia.\"\n\nA dark shadow enveloped the square in which they were standing; then\nthere was a weird perfume of damp fireworks and saltpetre, and before\nany one could say Guy Fawkes, the Phoenix rose from his own funeral pyre\nof faded frankincense, mildewed myrrh, and similar luxuries, and flapped\nhis wings vigorously, just as the Griffin jumped off his pedestal, which\nhe had brought with him, and piped out--\n\n\"Here we are again!\"\n\n\"Once in a thousand years,\" responded the Phoenix somewhat hoarsely, for\nhe had nearly swallowed some of his own ashes.\n\nThe Griffin, as everybody knows, is shaped like an eagle from its legs\nto the shoulder and the head, while the rest of his body is like that of\na lion. The Phoenix is also very much like an intelligent eagle, with\ngold and crimson plumage and an exceptionally waggish tail. It has the\nadvantage of fifty orifices in his bill, through which he occasionally\nsings melodious songs to oblige the company. As he never appears to\nanyone more than once in five hundred years, sometimes, when he has the\ntoothache for instance, only once in a thousand years--which is why he\nis called a rara avis--if you ever meet him at any time take particular\nnotice of him. And if you can draw, if it is only the long bow, make a\nsketch of him. He lives chiefly on poets--which is why so many refer to\nhim. He has been a good friend to the poets of all ages, as your cousin\nWilliam will explain. If you have not got a cousin William, ask some one\nwho has.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nNot having the gift of speech, neither of them spoke, but they could\nsing, and this is what they intended to say, duet-wise:--\n\n  I am a sacred bird, you know,\n    And I am a Griffin bold;\n  In Arabia the blest\n  We feather our own nest,\n    To keep us from the cold.\n\n  And we're so very fabulous--\n    Oh, that's the Griffin straight!\n  We rise up from the flames,\n  To play old classic games,\n    Like a Phoenix up-to-date!\n\nThen they spread out their wings and executed the most diverting feather\ndance ever seen out of a pantomime.\n\n  I am a watchful bird, you know,\n    And I am a Phoenix smart;\n  From Shakespeare unto Jones--\n  The Welsh one--who intones,\n    We have played a striking part.\n  For we're so very mystical,\n    Both off-springs of the brain;\n  The Mongoose is our _pere_,\n  And the Nightmare is our _mere_,\n    And we thrive on Fiction Plain!\n\nThey repeated their dance and then knocked at the door of the nearest\nhouse and begged pantomimically for money, but as it was washing day\nthey were refused. So they went into the cook shop and had some Irish\nStew, which did not agree with them. Consequently they sprang into the\nhash that was simmering on the fire, and were seen no more. Whereupon\nthe Zankiwank looked gooseberrily out of his eyes and murmured as if\nnothing out of the way or in the way had happened, or the Phoenix or the\nGriffin had existed--\"The Bletherwitch will send me a telegram to say\nthat she will be ready for the ceremony in half-an-hour.\"\n\n\"But where is the Bletherwitch, and how do you know?\" asked Maude,\nsomewhat incredulously.\n\n\"She is being arrayed for the marriage celebration. At present she is in\nSpain gathering Spanish onions.\"\n\n\"But Spanish onions don't come from Spain!\"\n\n\"You are right. It is pickled walnuts she is gathering from the Boot\nTree in the scullery. However, that is of no consequence. Let us be\njoyful as befits the occasion. Who has got any crackers?\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nBefore any reply could be given a voice in the air screamed\nout:--\"Beware of the Nargalnannacus!\" At which the Zankiwank\ntrembled and the whole place seemed to rock to and fro.\n\n\"What _is_ the Nargalnannacus?\"\n\n\"It's a noun!\"\n\n\"How do you mean?\"\n\n\"A noun is the name of a person, place or thing, I believe?\"\n\n\"It was yesterday.\"\n\n\"It is to-day. And that is what the Nargalnannacus is. He, She, or It is\na person, place or thing, and it travels about, and that is all I know\nof it. Nobody has ever seen a Nargalnannacus, and nobody ever will, not\na real, proper, authen----\"\n\n\"Authenticated,\" assisted Maude.\n\n\"Thank you--authenticated one. Directly they do they turn yellow and\ngreen, and are seen no more.\"\n\n\"What are we to do then?\" anxiously enquired Willie.\n\n\"The best that offers. We have been expecting an outbreak for a long\ntime, and here comes the Court Physician, Dr Pampleton, to happily\nconfirm my worst suspicions!\"\n\nThe children thought it extremely odd that having one's worst suspicions\nconfirmed should make any person happy. But they were accustomed to the\nZankiwank's curious modes of speech and lack of logic, so that they\nwisely held their tongues in silence. The newcomer was of very\nremarkable appearance. He was tall and slim like the Zankiwank, but\ninstead of having the ordinary shaped head and face, he carried on his\nshoulders a sheep's head, and in his veins (so they heard afterwards)\nran sheep's blood. At one period of his existence he had been well-known\nfor his wool-gathering propensities, and he was now strongly recommended\nas being able to commit more mistakes and blunders in half-an-hour than\na school boy could in a whole school term. He had one great virtue,\nhowever, and that was that he would always instantly apologise for any\nerror he might make.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHe never travelled without his medicine chest, which he carried by\nstraps over his shoulders, and was prepared to give anybody a dose of\nphysic without the slightest provocation at double charges.\n\n\"There is danger ahead,\" he whispered to the Zankiwank, \"and a lot of\nvisitors are coming to fight to the bitter end.\"\n\n\"Tell me their names,\" cried the Zankiwank excitedly. Whereupon, Dr\nPampleton recited them as follows, the Zankiwank groaning as each\ncognomen was uttered:--\n\n  \"The Wollypog\" (_groan_)\n  \"The Fustilug\" (_groan_)\n  \"What's-His-Name\" (_groan_)\n  \"Thing'um-a-Bob\" (_groan_)\n                  and\n  \"The Woogabblewabble Bogglewoggle and all his Court.\"\n\nThe last was too much for the Zankiwank, for he immediately climbed to\nthe top of the tallest steeple in the town, saying with much\ndiscretion:--\n\n\"I will see that all is fair. I will be the judge.\"\n\nMaude had only just got time to eat some of the Fern Seeds she had saved\nfrom what Robin Goodfellow had given her, and to give some to Willie,\nwhen a rushing as of many waters and a roaring as of the bursting of\nseveral gasometers were heard, and a noise of some two or three hundred\ntramping soldiers smote upon their ears, and they knew that something\ndreadful was going to happen. As the Bogglewoggle and the Wollypog and\nall the others came upon the scene, both the children recognised them,\nfrom what they had once read in a fairy book, as being the monsters of\nthe Secret Cavern.\n\nIt was not going to be a battle, as they could see--it was only to be a\nquiet fight between the important folk of the Secret Cavern and Topsy\nTurvey Land. The Jorumgander was there, and so was the Jackarandajam and\nMr Swinglebinks and all the others they had been introduced to. The\nBogglewoggle was particularly noisy in calling out for the Zankiwank,\nbut as he was engaged to be married, of course he could not risk his\nlife just for the mere whim of a dragon, who was setting everything\nalight with his torch-like tail.\n\nAnd then they all commenced to fight--cutting, slashing and crashing\neach other with double-edged swords, while the inhabitants applauded and\nthe bands played the \"Conquering Hero,\" although there was not any\ncreature who conquered, that one could distinguish. It was a terrible\nsight. They never ceased for a minute, but went on cutting each other to\npieces until at last they all lay dead upon the ground. No one was left\nalive to tell the awful news but the Zankiwank and Dr Pampleton. And\nwhat was most remarkable about the fight was that it was all done out of\npure friendship--but friendship does not seem to be much good when all\nyour friends are scattered about, as these were. Heads and arms and legs\neverywhere, and there certainly did not appear to be much hope of their\never being able to do any more damage.\n\nThe Zankiwank crept cautiously down from his pinnacle and joined Dr\nPampleton.\n\n\"Our friends are very much cut up,\" said Dr Pampleton.\n\n\"What is to be done?\" the Zankiwank enquired.\n\n\"Done? Why, with my special elixir I shall bring them all to life\nagain,\" said the Court Physician promptly.\n\n\"Will you? Can you?\"\n\n\"Of course. You get all the bodies and lay them in a line. I'll gather\nup the heads and stick 'em on with elastic glue. Then you find the arms\nand legs and we will soon have them ready for another bout.\"\n\nSo the Zankiwank sent the rest of the populace, that had been looking\non, indoors to get their tea, while he set to work and did as that\nabsurd old Doctor instructed him.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nWillie and Maude could scarcely keep their eyes open, but they were so\ninterested in the proceedings that they managed to see that the Court\nPhysician with his usual foresight was sticking the heads on the wrong\nbodies, and the arms and legs he put on just as they were handed to him,\nleft on the right, and right on the left, and no one individual got\nhis own proper limbs fastened to him.\n\nIt was the funniest thing they had ever seen--better than any pantomime,\nfor sure enough they all came to life again, and naturally, seeing\nanother person's arms and legs on their bodies, they imagined themselves\nto be somebody else entirely. And then ensued the most deafening\nconfusion conceivable, each one accusing the other of having robbed him\nin his sleep, for they were under the impression that they had been to\nbed in a strange place--and so they had.\n\nIt was the grandest transformation scene ever witnessed. The Zankiwank\nwas in deep distress, but Dr Pampleton was in high glee and laughed\nimmoderately.\n\n\"Such a funny mistake to make!\" he crowed hysterically to the hopping,\nhobbling, jumping crowd of monsters and dwarfs, who were glaring at each\nother in a very savage manner.\n\n\"I beg your pardon--my fault--all lie down again, and I will cut you up\nonce more and put you together correctly this time,\" said the Court\nPhysician pleasantly.\n\n\"So!\" they all bellowed in chorus, \"it is you who have done all this\nmischief. Come on! We will soon rectify your blunder,\" and with a swish\nand a swirl they made one simultaneous movement towards the unfortunate\nPampleton, and once again Pandemonium was let loose, when high above the\ndin the voice of the Zankiwank was heard calling upon them to have\npatience and not to disturb the harmony, as the Bletherwitch had arrived\nat last. Meanwhile everybody rushed madly down the street after the\nCourt Physician.\n\nBut the children could see nothing now. Everything was growing dim and\ndimmer, and the scene was fading, fading away into a blue light. And the\nlast they heard was the Zankiwank speaking tenderly to the Bletherwitch,\nwhom they were not destined to see after all, and saying:--\n\n\"Oh, my sweet Blethery, Blethery Bletherwitch! What a Bletherwitching\nlittle thing you are!\"\n\nThen there was a rumbling and a tumbling, and something stopped\nsuddenly. A light was flashed before their eyes, and hey presto! there\nwas John opening the carriage door for them to get out, and wonder of\nwonders, there were their dear mother and father standing in the hall of\ntheir own home waiting to receive them. And presently they were being\nkissed and caressed and petted because, as Mary their nurse said, they\nhad slept in the carriage all the way home from the visit to their\ngrandmama.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThis, however, they stoutly denied. They knew better than that, and told\ntheir parents of all their adventures, which, as they declared, if they\nwere not true they ought to be, and so they said goodnight and dreamt\ntheir dreams, if they were dreams, all over again.\n\n\nTHE END.\n\n\nTURNBULL & SPEARS, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n<pre id=\"pg-footer\">","title":"The Zankiwank and The Bletherwitch: An Original Fantastic Fairy Extravaganza","tradition":"folklore-oral-tradition","translated_text":null,"word_count":20826}