Читать книгу The Folk of the Faraway Tree - Enid blyton - Страница 6

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“I don’t want to see any more of the horrid people who live in this tree,” wept poor Connie. But Jo took her firmly by the elbow and pushed her up a broad bough to where a yellow door stood open in the tree.

In the doorway stood the prettiest little elf it was possible to see. She had hair that stood out round her head like a golden mist, as fine as silk. She held out her hand to Connie.

“Poor child! Did you get caught in Dame Washalot’s water! She has been washing such a lot to-day, and the water has been coming down all day long! Let me dry you.”

Connie couldn’t help liking this pretty little elf. How dainty she was in her shining frock, and what tiny feet and hands she had!

Silky drew her into her tidy little house. She took a towel from a peg and began to dry Connie. The others told her who she was.

“Yes, I know,” said Silky. “We’re going up to Moon-Face’s house to tea. He said he would ask Mister Watzisname too, but I don’t expect he’ll come, because I heard him snoring in his deck-chair as usual a little while ago.”

“Mister Who?” asked Connie.

“Mister Watzisname,” said Silky. “He doesn’t know his name nor does anyone else, so we call him Watzisname. We’ve tried and tried to find out what his name is, but I don’t expect we shall ever know now. Unless the Land of Know-All comes—then we might go up there and find out. You can find out anything in the Land of Know-All.”

“Oh!” said Jo, thinking of a whole lot of things he would dearly love to know. “We’ll go there if it comes.”

There suddenly came a curious noise down the tree—a noise of clanking and jingling, crashing and banging. Connie looked alarmed. Whatever would happen next? It sounded as if a hundred saucepans, a few dozen kettles, and some odds and ends of dishes and pans were all falling down the tree together!

Then a voice came floating down the tree, and the children grinned.

“Two books for a book-worm,

Two butts for a goat,

Two winks for a winkle

Who can’t sing a note!”

“What a very silly song!” said Connie.

“Yes, isn’t it?” said Jo. “It’s the kind the old Saucepan Man always sings. It’s his ‘Two’ song. Every line but the last begins with the word ‘Two’ Anyone can make up a song like that.”

“Well, I’m sure I don’t want to,” said Connie, thinking that everyone in the Faraway Tree must be a little bit mad. “Who’s the Saucepan Man? And what’s that awful crashing noise?”

“Only his saucepans and kettles and things,” said Bessie. “He carries them round with him. He’s a darling. Once we saw him without his saucepans and things round him, and we didn’t know him. He looked funny—quite different.”

A most extraordinary person now came into Silky’s tiny house, almost getting stuck in the door. He was covered from head to foot with saucepans, kettles and pans, which were tied round him with string. They jangled and crashed together, so everyone always knew when the Saucepan Man was coming.

Connie stared at him in the greatest surprise. His hat was a very big saucepan, so big that it hid most of his face. Connie could see a wide grin, but that was about all.

“Who’s this funny creature?” said Connie, in a loud and rather rude voice.

Now the Saucepan Man was deaf, and he didn’t usually hear what was said—but this time he did, and he didn’t like it. He tilted back his saucepan hat and stared at Connie.

“Who’s this dirty little girl?” said the Saucepan Man.

“Who’s this dirty little girl?” he said, in a voice just as loud as Connie’s. Connie went red. She glared at the Saucepan Man.

“This is Connie,” said Jo. He turned to Connie. “This is Saucepan, a great friend of ours,” he said. “We’ve had lots of adventures together.”

“Why is she so dirty?” asked Saucepan, looking at Connie’s ink-stained dress and dirty face. “Is she always like that? Why don’t you clean her?”

Connie was furious. She was always so clean and dainty and well-dressed—how dare this horrid clanking little man talk about her like that!

“Go away!” she said, angrily.

“Yes, it’s a very nice day,” said the Saucepan Man, politely, going suddenly deaf.

“Don’t stay here and STARE!” shouted Connie.

“I certainly should wash your hair,” said the Saucepan Man at once. “It’s full of soap-suds.”

“I said, ‘Don’t STARE!’ ” cried Connie.

“Mind that stair?” said the Saucepan Man, looking round. “Can’t see any. Didn’t know there were any stairs in the Faraway Tree.”

Connie stared at him in rage. “Is he mad?” she said to Jo.

Jo and the others were laughing at this queer conversation. Jo shook his head. “No, Saucepan isn’t mad. He’s just deaf. His saucepans make such a clanking all the time that the noise gets into his ears, and he can’t hear properly. So he keeps making mistakes.”

“That’s right,” said the Saucepan Man, entering into the conversation suddenly. “Cakes. Plenty of them. Waiting for us at Moon-Face’s.”

“I said ‘Mis-takes’,” said Jo. “Not cakes.”

“But Moon-Face’s cakes aren’t mistakes,” said Saucepan, earnestly.

Jo gave it up. “We’d better go up to Moon-Face’s,” he said. “It’s past four o’clock.”

“I hope that awful Saucepan Man isn’t coming with us,” said Connie. For a wonder Saucepan heard what she said. He looked angry.

“I hope this nasty little girl isn’t coming with us,” he said, in his turn, and glared at Connie.

“Now, now, now,” said Silky, and patted the Saucepan Man on one of his kettles. “Don’t get cross. It only makes things worse.”

“Purse? Have you lost it?” said the Saucepan Man, anxiously.

“I said ‘worse’ not ‘purse’,” said Silky. “Come on! Let’s go. Connie’s dry now, but I can’t get the ink-stains out of her dress.”

They all began to climb the tree again, the Saucepan Man making a frightful noise. He began to sing his silly song.

“Two bangs for a pop-gun,

Two ...”

“Be quiet!” said Silky. “You’ll wake Mister Watzisname. He’s fast asleep. He went to bed very late last night, so he’ll be tired. We won’t wake him. We shall be a dreadful squash inside Moon-Face’s house anyhow. Steal past his chair quietly. Saucepan, try not to make your kettles clang together.”

“Yes, lovely weather,” agreed Saucepan, mishearing again. They all stole past. Saucepan made a few clatters, but they didn’t disturb Watzisname, who snored loudly and peacefully in his deck-chair on the broad bough of the tree outside his house. His mouth was wide open.

“I wonder people don’t pop things in his mouth if he leaves it open like that,” whispered Connie.

“People do,” said Jo. “Moon-Face put some acorns in once. He was awfully angry. He really was. It’s a wonder he doesn’t get soaked with Dame Washalot’s water, but he doesn’t seem to. He always puts his chair well under that big branch.”

They went on up the tree. In the distance they saw Dame Washalot, hanging out some clothes on boughs. “They blow away if she doesn’t get someone to sit on them,” said Silky to Connie. “So she pays the baby squirrels to sit patiently on each bit of washing she does till it’s dry and she can take it in and iron it.”

They saw the line of baby squirrels in the distance. They looked sweet. Connie wanted to go nearer, but Jo said no, they really must go on; Moon-Face would be tired of waiting for them.

At last they came almost to the top of the tree. Connie was amazed when she looked down. The Faraway Tree rose higher than any other tree in the Enchanted Wood. Far below them waved the tops of other trees. Truly the Faraway Tree was amazing.

“Here we are, at Moon-Face’s,” said Jo, and he banged on the door. It flew open and Moon-Face looked out, his big round face one large smile.

“I thought you were never coming!” he said. “You are late!”

“We’ve brought this dirty little girl,” said Saucepan, and he pushed Connie forward.

Moon-Face looked at her.

“She does look a bit dirty,” he said, and smiled broadly. “I suppose she got into trouble with the Angry Pixie—and got some of Dame Washalot’s water on her too! Never mind! Come along in and we’ll have a good tea. I’ve got some Hot-Cold Goodies!”

“Whatever are they?” said Connie, and even the others hadn’t heard of them.

They all went into Moon-Face’s exciting house. It was really rather extraordinary. In the very middle was a large hole, with a pile of coloured cushions by it. Round the hole was Moon-Face’s furniture, all curved to fit the roundness of the tree-trunk. There was a curious curved bed, a curved sofa, and a curved stove and chairs, all set round the trunk inside the tree.

“It’s very exciting,” said Connie, looking round. “What’s that hole in the middle?”

Nobody answered her. They were too busy looking at the lovely tea that Moon-Face had put ready on the curved table. They wanted to know what the Hot-Cold Goodies were like. They knew Pop Biscuits and Google Buns—but they didn’t know Hot-Cold Goodies.

“What’s this hole?” demanded Connie again, but no one bothered about her. She felt so curious that she went to the edge of the strange hole, and put her foot in it to see if there were steps down. She suddenly lost her balance, and stepped right into the hole! She sat down with a bump—and then, oh my goodness! she began to slide away at top speed down the hole that ran from the top of the tree to the bottom!

“Where’s Connie?” said Jo, suddenly, looking round.

“Not here. That’s good!” said Saucepan.

“She must have fallen down the Slippery-Slip!” said Silky. “Oh, poor Connie—she’ll be at the bottom of the tree by now! We’ll have to go down and fetch her!”