The Zankiwank and The Bletherwitch Part 10

"That is impossible. One cannot be a book."

"Oh yes, nothing simpler. Let everybody choose his own words and give his own meaning to them!"

"What use would that be?" asked Willie.

"None whatever, because if you always had your own meaning you would not want anybody else to be meaning anything! What a lot of trouble that would save! I'll ask the Jackarandajam to make one for me--why, here he is!"

The children recognised the Jackarandajam immediately and shook hands with him.

"I am so glad to see you all. I have just been suffering from a most severe attack of Inspiration."

"How very inexplicable--I beg your pardon," moaned the Zankiw.a.n.k. "It is a little difficult, but it is, I believe, a strictly proper word--though I do not pretend to know its meaning."

The Jackarandajam accepted the apology by gracefully bowing, though neither felt quite at ease.

"What is the use of saying things you don't mean?" asked Maude.

"None at all, that is the best of it, because we are always doing something without any reason."

To attempt to argue with the Zankiw.a.n.k Maude knew was futile, so she merely enquired how the Jackarandajam felt after his attack of Inspiration, and what he took for it.

"Nothing," was the simple rejoinder. "It comes and it goes, and there you are--at least most of the time."

"What is Inspiration?" said Willie.

The Zankiw.a.n.k and the Jackarandajam both shook their heads in a solemn manner, and looked as wise as the Sphinx. Then the former answered slowly and deliberately--

"Inspiration is the sort of thing that comes when you do not fish for it."

"But," said Willie, who did not quite see the force of the explanation, "you can't fish for a great many things and of course nothing comes. How do you manage then?"

This was a decided poser, beating them at their own game, so the Zankiw.a.n.k sent another telegram, presumably to the Bletherwitch, and the Jackarandajam made a fresh cigarette, which he carefully refrained from smoking. Then he turned to the two children and said mournfully--

"Have you seen my new invention? Ah! it was the result of my recent attack of Inspiration. Come with me and I will show you." Thereupon he led the way to a large square, with a nice garden in the centre, where all the houses had bills outside to inform the pa.s.sers by that these

DESIRABLE REVOLVING RESIDENCES WERE TO BE LET OR SOLD.

"All my property. I had the houses built myself from my own plans. Come inside the first."

So they followed the Jackarandajam and entered the first house.

"The great advantage of these houses," he declared, "is that you can turn them round to meet the sun at will. They are constructed on a new principle, being fixed on a pivot. You see I turn this handle by the hall door, and Hey Presto! we are looking into the back garden, while the kitchen is round at the front!"

And such was the fact! The house would move any way one wished simply by turning the electric handle.

"It is so convenient, you see, if you don't want to be at home to any visitor. When you see anyone coming up the garden path, you move the crank and away you go, and your visitor, to his well-bred consternation, finds himself gazing in at the kitchen window. And then he naturally departs with many misgivings as to the state of his health. Especially if the cook is taken by surprise. You should never take a cook by surprise. It always spoils her photograph."

"Oh dear! Oh dear!" cried Maude, "why will you say such contradictory things! I don't see the sense of having such a house at all. It would upset things so."

"Besides," chimed in Willie, "you would never have any aspect or prospect."

"Are they both good to eat?" said the Jackarandajam, eagerly.

"Of course not. I meant that your house would first be facing the East, and then South, and then West, and then North, and what would be the use of that?"

"No use whatever. That's why we do it. Oh, but do not laugh. We are not quite devoid of reason, because we are all mad!"

"Are you really mad?"

"Yes," was the gay response, "we don't mind it a bit. We are all as crooked as a teetotaler's corkscrew! I am glad you do not like the Revolving Houses, because I am going to sell them to the Clerk of the Weather and his eight new a.s.sistants!"

"I did not know the Clerk of the Weather required any a.s.sistance,"

exclaimed Willie, though personally he did not know the Clerk of the Weather.

"Oh yes, he must have a.s.sistants. He does things so badly, and with eight more he will, if he is careful, do them worse."

Here was another one of those contradictions that the children could not understand. I hope you can't, because I don't myself, generally. The Jackarandajam went on reflectively:--

"It is bound to happen. The Clerk of the Weather has only one a.s.sistant now, and it takes the two of them to do a Prog--Prog--don't interrupt me--a Prog--Prognostication!--phew, what a beautiful word!--Prognostication ten minutes now. Therefore it stands to reason, as the Sun Dial remarked, that nine could do it in much less time!"

"You will excuse me," halloed the Zankiw.a.n.k down the next door dining-room chimney, "I beg to differ from you. That is to say on the contrary. For instance:--If it takes two people ten minutes to do a prog--you must fill in the rest yourself--prog--of course, as there are so many more to do the same thing, it must take them forty-five minutes."

"What a brain," exclaimed the Jackarandajam, ecstatically; "he ought to have been born a Calculating Machine. He beats Euclid and that fellow named Smith on all points. I never thought of it in the light of multiplying the addition."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"More nonsense," observed Willie to Maude. "What does it all mean?" They looked out of window and saw the Zankiw.a.n.k arguing with the Clerk of the Weather and the Weather c.o.c.k on top of the vane of a large building outside. Every minute they expected to see them tumble down, but they did not, so to cheer them up the Jackarandajam stood on his head and sang them this comic song:--

THE CLERK OF THE WEATHER.

The Clerk of the Weather went out to walk All down Victoria Street; Of late his ways had caused much talk, And chatter indiscreet.

So he donned a suit of mingled sleet, With a dash of falling snow, A rainy tie, and a streaky skye Which barked where'er he'd go.

Then, to the surprise of Willie and Maude, the Jackarandajam began to dance wildly, while the Weather c.o.c.k sang as follows:--

O c.o.c.k-a-doodle-doo!

The weather will be fine-- If it does not sleet or hail or snow, And if it does not big guns blow, And the sun looks out to s.h.i.+ne.

The Jackarandajam stood on his head again and sang the second verse:--

Wrapt up in his thoughts he went along, His manner sad and crossed; With a windy strain he hummed a song, Of thunderbolts and frost.

He strode with a Barometrical stride, With forecasts on his brow; Till he tripped up Short upon a slide, Which made him vow a vow.

The Weather c.o.c.k at once sang the chorus and the Jackarandajam danced as before.

O c.o.c.k-a-doodle-doo!

The weather will be fine-- If there is no fog, or drenching rain, And thunder does not boom again, And the sun looks out to s.h.i.+ne.