The Zankiwank and The Bletherwitch Part 1

The Zankiw.a.n.k and The Bletherwitch.

by S. J. Adair Fitzgerald.

Part I

A Trip to Fable Land

_By the Queen-Moon's mystic light, By the hush of holy night, By the woodland deep and green, By the starlight's silver sheen, By the zephyr's whispered spell, Brooding Powers Invisible, Faerie Court and Elfin Throng, Unto whom the groves belong, And by Laws of ancient date, Found in Scrolls of Faerie Fate, Stream and fount are dedicate.

Whereso'er your feet to-day Far from haunts of men may stray, We adjure you stay no more Exiles on an alien sh.o.r.e, But with spells of magic birth Once again make glad the earth._ PHILIP DAYRE.

A Trip to Fable Land

"Well," said the Zankiw.a.n.k as he swallowed another jam tart, "I think we had better start on our travels at once."

They were all standing under the clock at Charing Cross Station when the station was closed and everybody else had departed, except the train which the Zankiw.a.n.k had himself chartered. It was all so odd and strange, and the gathering was so very motley, that if it had been to-morrow morning instead of last night, Willie and Maude would certainly have said they had both been dreaming. But, of course, they were not dreaming because they were wide-awake and dressed. Besides, they remembered Charing Cross Station quite well, having started therefrom with their father and mother only last summer when they went to the sea-side for their holidays--and what jolly times they had on the sands! So Maude said promptly, "It is not Night-mare or Dreams or Anything. We don't know what it is, but we must not go to sleep, Willie, in case anything should happen."

Willie replied that he did not want to go to sleep any more. "I believe it's a show," he added, "and somebody's run away with us. How lovely!

I'm glad we are lost. Let us go and ask that tall gentleman, who looks like the parlour-tongs in a bathing-suit, to give us some more buns."

For, being a boy, he could always eat buns, or an abundance of them, only I hope you won't tell the nursery governess I told you.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

It was the Zankiw.a.n.k, who was doing some conjuring tricks for the benefit of the Jackarandajam and Mr Swinglebinks, to whom Willie referred. The Zankiw.a.n.k was certainly a very curious person to look at.

He had very long legs, very long arms, and a very small body, a long neck and a head like a peac.o.c.k. He was not wearing a bathing suit as Willie imagined, because there were tails to his jacket, hanging down almost to his heels. He wore a sash round his waist, and his clothes were all speckled as though he had been peppered with the colours out of a very large kaleidoscope. The Jackarandajam was also rather tall and thin, but dressed in the very height of fas.h.i.+on, with a flower in his coat and a cigarette in his mouth, which he never smoked because he never lit it. He was believed by all the others--you shall know who all the others were presently--to know more things than the Man-in-the-Moon, because he nearly always said something that n.o.body else ever thought of. And the Man-in-the-Moon knows more things than the Old Woman of Mars. You have naturally heard all about Mars--at least, if you have not heard all about her, you all have heard about her, which is just the same thing, only reversed.

There was an Old Woman of Mars Who'd constantly say "Bless my stars, There's the Sun and the Moon And the Earth in a swoon, All dying for par-tic-u-lars-u-lars!

Of this planet of mine called Mars!"

Mr Swinglebinks, unlike his two companions, was short, stout, and dreadfully important. In Fable Land, where we are going as soon as we start for that happy place, he kept a grocer's shop once upon a time. As n.o.body cared a fig for his sugar and currants, however, he retired from business and took to dates and the making of new almanacks, and was now travelling about for the benefit of his figures. He was very strong on arithmetic, and could read, write, and arith-metise before he went to school, so he never went at all.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

While the Zankiw.a.n.k was talking to his friends an unseen porter rang an unseen bell, and called out in an unknown tongue:--

"Take your seats for Fableland, Which stands upon a Tableland, And don't distress the guard.

And when you pa.s.s the Cableland Say nothing to the Gableland Because it hurts the guard."

"We must put that porter back in the bottle," said the Jackarandajam, "we shall want some bottled porter to drink on the road."

"Well," said Maude, "what a ridiculous thing to say. We don't bottle railway porters, I am sure."

"I wish the Bletherwitch would come," exclaimed the Zankiw.a.n.k, "we shall miss the next train. She is most provoking. She promised to be here three weeks ago, and we have been waiting ever since."

This astounding statement quite disturbed Willie, who almost swallowed a bun in his excitement. Had he and Maude been waiting there three weeks as well? What would they think at home? You see Maude and Willie, who were brother and sister, had been on a visit to their grandmama; and on their way home they had fallen asleep in the carriage, after having repeated to each other all the wonderful fairy tales their grandmama had related to them. How long they had slept they could not guess, but when they woke up, instead of finding themselves at home in St George's Square, they discovered that they were at Charing Cross Station. Mary, their nurse, had disappeared, so had John the coachman, and it was the Zankiw.a.n.k who had opened the door and a.s.sisted them to alight, saying at the same time most politely--

"I a.s.sist you to alight, because it is so dark."

Then he gave them buns and chocolates, icecreams, apples, pears, shrimps and cranberry tarts. So it stands to reason that after such a mixture they were rather perplexed. However, they did not seem very much distressed, and as they were both fond of adventures, especially in books, they were quite content to accept the Zankiw.a.n.k's offer to take them for a ride in the midnight-express to Fable Land, over which, as everybody knows, King aesop reigns. Maudie was nine and a half and Willie was eight and a quarter. Very nice ages indeed, unless you happen to be younger or older, and then your own age is nicer still.

"I think," said the Zankiw.a.n.k, "that we will start without the Bletherwitch. She knows the way and can take a balloon."

"If she takes a balloon she will lose it. You had better let the balloon take her," exclaimed the Jackarandajam severely.

"Take your places! Take your places!" cried the unseen porter. So everybody made a rush for the train, and they all entered a Pullman Car and sat down on the seats.

"Dear me! How very incorrectly that porter speaks. He means, of course, that the seats should take, or receive us."

The Zankiw.a.n.k only smiled, while Mr Swinglebinks commenced counting up to a hundred, but as he lost one, he could only count up to ninety-nine--so, to keep his arithmetic going, he subtracted a time-piece from his neighbour's pocket, multiplied his foot-warmers, and divided his attention between the Wimble and the Wamble, who were both of the party, being left-handed and deaf.

Maudie and Willie took their places in the car with all the other pa.s.sengers amid a perfect babel of chattering and laughing and crying, and then, as the train began to slowly move out of the station, the Zankiw.a.n.k solemnly sang the following serious song:--

OFF TO FABLE LAND.

The midnight train departs at three, To Fable Land we go, For this express is nothing less Than a steamer, don't you know!

We're sailing now upon the Thames, All in a penny boat, And we soon shall change for a mountain range, In the atmosphere to float!

So off we go to Fable Land-- (Speak kindly to the guard!) Which many think a Babel-land, But this you disregard.

You'll find it is a Stable-land, With stables in the yard-- A possible, probable, Able-land, So do not vex the guard!

We've left behind us Charing Cross, And all the town in bed; For it is plain, though in this train, We're standing on our head!

We're riding now in Bedfords.h.i.+re, Which is the Land of Nod; And yet in the sky we are flying high, Which seems extremely odd!

So off we go to Fable Land-- (Speak kindly to the guard!) Which many think a Babel-land, But this you disregard.

You'll find it is a Stable-land, With stables in the yard-- A possible, probable, Able-land, So do not vex the guard!

Maudie and Willie found themselves joining l.u.s.tily in the chorus when the Zankiw.a.n.k pulled the cord communicating with the guard, and, opening the window, climbed out on to the top of the carriage calling all the time:--

"Guard! Guard! Guard!

Don't go so hard, Just give the brake a hitch!

To Charing Cross return-- Nay, do not look so stern-- For I would not tell a cram, I must send a telegram, To my darling little Bletherwitch."

So the guard turned the train round, and they went back to Charing Cross as quick as lightning.

"It's my fault," moaned the Jackarandajam, "I ought to have reminded you. Never mind, we will put on another engine."

So the Zankiw.a.n.k got out and sent a telegram to the Bletherwitch, and desired her to follow on in a balloon.

Again they started, and everybody settled down until the train reached the British Channel, when it dived through a tunnel into an uninhabited country, where the post-office clerk popped his head into the carriage window and handed in a telegram.

"_From the Bletherwitch, To the Zankiw.a.n.k._