The Zankiwank and The Bletherwitch Part 6

First you take a little orange, And you squeeze out all the pips; Then you add a crimson florange, Which you cut up into chips.

Then you stir them in a porringe, With your tiny finger tips; And you have the finest morange Ever known to mortal lips.

How Willie and Maude longed to taste a morange! The Zankiw.a.n.k evidently enjoyed the one he had, for he said it tasted just like mango, ice cream, blackberries and plum tart all mixed up together, so that it must have been nice.

After the feast t.i.tania said she must be going, as she felt certain that there were some invisible mortals present. She could hear them breathing! At this Robin Goodfellow grew nervous, and the children got frightened lest the Queen should discover and punish them for their temerity.

"Where Christmas pudding's bliss 'Tis folly to eat pies,"

cried Robin Goodfellow to divert attention and the fairies at the same time, but the Queen was not satisfied, and ordered a special dress train to carry them away again.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

At this moment the two children tumbled off nothing into a vacant s.p.a.ce, making the Zankiw.a.n.k scream out--"It must be the Bletherwitch in the clutches of the Nargalnannacus." But it wasn't, and if it had not been for Robin Goodfellow's presence of mind, I am sure I do not know what would have happened. That lively rascal, however, guessing that he had used the wrong seeds, at once stepped forward, and taking Maude and Willie each by the hand, boldly presented them to Her Majesty as being favoured mortals who were friends of the Zankiw.a.n.k, and so the Queen received them and asked them more questions than you could find in any school book. None of which they answered, because when they turned round the Queen and all her court had vanished, and only the Zankiw.a.n.k was to be seen.

The Zankiw.a.n.k took no notice of them whatever, and behaved just as though he could not see them. They called him by name without arousing his attention, for he was once more writing a telegram, only he did not know where to send it. In the distance Maude could hear the sound of voices, and she declared she could recognise the Queen singing, though Willie said it must have been her imagination because he could not.

However, this is what Maude said she heard:--

Dear little maid, may joy be thine As through your life you go; Let Truth and Peace each act design, That Hope turn not to woe.

Dream if you will in maiden prime, But let each dream be true; For idle hopes waste golden time, That won't return to you.

In after years when ways divide, And Love dispels each tear, Know in some breast there will abide A thought for you sincere.

So strive, dear maid, to play your part, With n.o.ble aim and deed; Let sweetness ever sway your heart, And so I give you speed.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

While Maudie was pondering over the meaning of these words, she was suddenly lifted off her feet, and, when she recovered from the shock, found herself with Willie in a balloon, while down below the Zankiw.a.n.k was fondly embracing the Jackarandajam, who had just arrived with a whole army of odd-looking people, including Jack-the-Giant-Killer, Tom Thumb, Blue Beard, and all his wives, with Sister Anne, d.i.c.k Whittington, and his black cat, and Tom Tiddler, and about three thousand four hundred and five goblins and sprites, who all commenced running a race up and down the valley from which they were fast speeding.

"Keep the pot a-boiling; keep the pot a-boiling," bawled the Zankiw.a.n.k, and away they all went again, helter skelter, in and out, and up and down, like skaters on a rink.

Gradually the balloon altered its course, and instead of going up it went straight ahead to a large inpenetrable wall that seemed to threaten them with destruction; while, to the annoyance of both Maude and Willie, they could hear the revellers down below dancing and singing as though they were in no jeopardy. And if the words had been correct they would have declared that it was the Mariners of England who were singing their own song:--

You sleepy little mortals, High up in a balloon, You soon will pa.s.s the portals, Beyond the crescent moon.

Then Shadowland will come in view, A dream within a dream; So keep in your sleep While we keep up the steam; While the midnight hours are all a-creep, And we are all a-beam.

The spirits of the fairies This eve are very bright, For in your nest the mare is Who only rides by night.

Into a magic sphere you go, A dream within a dream.

So keep in your sleep, While we keep up the steam, For Shadow Land is deep and steep, And we are all a-beam.

With a b.u.mp, and a thump, and a jump, the balloon burst against the wall, and Maude and Willie felt themselves dropping, dropping, dropping, until the Zankiw.a.n.k bounced up and caught them both in his arms, saying as he rushed forward:--

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"Quick, the gates are only open for five seconds once a week, and if we don't get inside at once we shall be jammed in the door-way."

So into Shadow Land they tumbled as the porter mumbled and grumbled and shut the gate with a boom and a bang after them.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Part III

A Visit to Shadow Land

_Swift as a shadow, short as any dream; Bright as the lightning in the collied night, That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, And ere a man hath power to say "Behold!"

The jaws of darkness do devour it up: So quick bright things come to confusion._ SHAKESPEARE.

_There's a crus.h.i.+ng and a cras.h.i.+ng--there's a flaring and a flas.h.i.+ng, There's a rus.h.i.+ng and a das.h.i.+ng, as if crowds were hurrying by-- There's a screaming and a shouting, as a mult.i.tude was routing, And phantom forms were flouting the blackness of the sky, And in mockery their voices are lifted wild and high, As they lilt a merry measure while they fly._ J. L. FORREST.

A Visit to Shadow Land

"This," cheerily explained the Zankiw.a.n.k, "is Shadow Land, where everything is mist, though nothing is ever found, because nothing is ever lost, for you cannot lose nothing unless you have nothing to gain.

Consequently I shall leave you to find out everything else," with which nonsensical introduction the Zankiw.a.n.k caught hold of the wings of a house, sprang on to the gables, and flew down the nearest chimney, followed by all the dancers they had seen below, including the Jackarandajam and all the residents from Story-Book Land of whom you can think. But if you cannot think of all of them yourself, ask your sisters to think for you.

It certainly was a Land of Shadows, where revolving lights like flashes from a lighthouse sent all sorts of varying rays right through the mists, presenting to them a fresh panorama of views every other minute or so. The shadows danced all through the place, which seemed like a large plateau or table-land, near a magnificent stretch of ocean which they could see before them with s.h.i.+ps pa.s.sing to and fro incessantly.

And all the time, goblins, hob, n.o.b and otherwise, red, blue, and green, kept rus.h.i.+ng backwards and forwards, sometimes with a whole school of children following madly in their wake. Such a das.h.i.+ng and a cras.h.i.+ng was never seen or heard before, and as each creature carried his shadow with him, you can just imagine what a lot of lights and shades there must have been. Occasionally there would be a slight lull in the excitement, and the racing and the rus.h.i.+ng would cease for awhile. Each time that there was a pause in the seemingly endless races, a quaint round-faced little person, dressed in short petticoats, sky blue stockings and a crimson peaked hat, stepped from Nowhere in particular, and either sang a song herself or introduced a small girl spirit, or boy spirit, who did so for her.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

The first time, she descended on to the plateau on a broom, and introduced herself by throwing a light from the magic lantern which she carried, on to a sheet of water which she unfolded, and thereon appeared this announcement:--

I AM THE GREAT LITTLE WINNY WEG.

But as neither Willie nor Maude knew what a Winny Weg was, they were necessarily compelled to await further developments. However, as none came, they listened carefully to her song, which, as far as I can remember, was like this:--

THE FUNNY LITTLE MAN.

I am going to tell a story of a little girl I knew, She had a little sweetheart no bigger than my shoe; She used to sit and sew all day--he used to run and play, And when she tried to chide him, this is all that he would say:

O my! Here's such a jolly spree!

Sally Water's coming with Jack Sheppard into tea, She's bringing Baby Bunting with old Mother Hubbard's Dog, And little Jacky Horner with the Roly Poly Frog.

O my! it fills my heart with glee!

The House that Jack is building isn't big enough for me!

In time these two got married and they took a little house, And soon a tiny baby came, no bigger than a mouse; But still the little husband played at skipping rope and top With all the little girls and boys, and drank their ginger-pop.

O my! this funny little Sam Thought the world was bread and cheese, and all the trees were jam; He stood his baby on its head, and played at shuttlec.o.c.k, And then he rocked himself to sleep with cakes of almond-rock.

O my! he was a sn.i.g.g.adee!

He went to bed at one o'clock and rose at half-past three.