Читать книгу The Folk of the Faraway Tree - Enid blyton - Страница 7

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Connie was frightened when she found herself slipping down the hole in the tree. Usually people who used the Slippery-Slip had a cushion to sit on, but Connie hadn’t. She slid down and down and round and round, faster and faster. She gasped, and her hair flew out behind her.

She came to the bottom of the tree, and her feet touched a little trap-door set in the side there. It flew open and Connie shot out, landing on a soft tuft of moss, which the little folk grew there especially, so that anyone using the Tree-slide might land softly.

Connie landed on the moss and sat there, panting and frightened. She was at the bottom of the tree! The others were all at the top! They would be having tea together, laughing and joking. They wouldn’t miss her. She would have to stay at the bottom of the tree till they came down again, and that might not be for ages.

“If I knew the way home I’d go,” thought Connie. “But I don’t. Oh—what’s that?”

It was a red squirrel, dressed in an old jersey. He came out of a hole in the trunk, where he lived. He bounded over to Connie.

“Where’s your cushion, please?” he said.

“What cushion?” said Connie.

“The one you slid down on,” said the squirrel.

“I didn’t slide down on one,” said Connie.

“You must have,” said the red squirrel, looking all round for a cushion. “People always do. Where have you put it? Don’t be a naughty girl now. Let me have it. I always have to take them back to Moon-Face.”

“I tell you I didn’t have a cushion,” said Connie

“I tell you I didn’t have a cushion,” said Connie, beginning to feel annoyed. “I just slid down on myself, and I got pretty warm.”

She stood up. The squirrel looked at the back of her. “My! You’ve worn out the back of your frock, sliding down without a cushion,” he said. “It’s all in rags. Your petticoat is showing.”

“Oh! This is a horrid afternoon!” said poor Connie. “I’ve been splashed with ink and soaked with soapy water, and now I’ve worn out the back of my frock.”

The trap-door suddenly shot open again and out flew Moon-Face on one of his cushions. He shouted to Connie.

“I say! Didn’t you like my party? Why did you rush off so quickly?”

“I fell down that silly hole,” said Connie. “Look at the back of my frock.”

“There’s nothing to look at. You’ve worn it out, slipping down without a cushion,” said Moon-Face. “Come on, I’ll take you back. Look out—here comes a basket. It’s one of Dame Washalot’s biggest ones. I borrowed it from her to go back in. All right, red squirrel, don’t take my cushion. I’ll put it in the basket to sit on.”

Jo and the Saucepan Man tugged at the rope

The red squirrel said good-bye and popped back into his hole. Moon-Face caught the big basket that came swinging down on a stout rope and threw his yellow cushion into it. He helped Connie in, tugged at the rope, and then up they swung between the branches of the tree. Up and up and up—past the Angry Pixie’s, past the Owl’s home, past Mister Watzisname, still snoring, past Dame Washalot, and right up to Moon-Face’s own house.

“Here we are!” he called to Jo and the Saucepan Man, who were busy tugging at the rope, to bring up the basket. “Thanks so much.”

Everyone, was amused to see that the bottom part of poor Connie’s dress was gone. “She’s ragged now as well as dirty,” said Saucepan, sounding quite pleased. He didn’t like Connie. “I wonder what will happen to her next.”

“Nothing, I hope,” said Connie, scowling at him.

“Soap? Yes, you do look as if you want a bit of soap,” said Saucepan, mis-hearing as usual. “And a needle and cotton too.”

“Now, stop it, Saucepan!” said Silky. “I’ve never known you so quarrelsome. Come and eat the Hot-Cold Goodies. Nobody’s had any yet.”

Moon-Face bought some hot-cold goodies from a witch

They went into Moon-Face’s curved home, and sat down again. Connie tried not to go near the hole. She was very much afraid of falling down it again. She took a Hot-Cold Goodie. It was like a very, very big chocolate.

Hot-Cold Goodies were peculiar. You put them into your mouth and sucked. As soon as you had sucked the chocolate part off, you came to what seemed like a layer of ice-cream.

“Oooh! Ice-cream!” said Jo, sucking hard. “Cold as can be. Golly, it’s too cold to bear! It’s getting colder and colder. Moon-Face, I’ll have to spit out my goodie, it’s too cold for me.”

But just as he said that the Hot-Cold Goodie stopped being cold and got hot. At first it was pleasantly warm, and then it got very hot.

“It’s almost burning me!” said Bessie. “Oh—now it’s gone ice-cold again. Moon-Face, what extraordinary things. Wherever did you get them?”

“I bought them from a witch who popped down from the Land of Marvels to-day,” said Moon-Face, grinning. “Funny, aren’t they?”

“Yes—awfully exciting, and delicious to taste, once you get used to them changing from cold to hot and hot to cold,” said Bessie. “I’ll have another.”

“What land did you say was at the top of the Tree to-day?” asked Silky. “The Land of Marvels? Oh yes—I went there last year, I remember.”

“What was it like?” asked Fanny.

“Marvellous,” said Silky. “All wonders and marvels. There’s a ladder that hasn’t any top—you go on and on climbing up it, and you never reach the top—and a tree that sings whenever the wind blows—a cat that tells your fortune—and a silver ball that takes you all round the world and back in the wink of an eye—well, I can’t tell you all the marvels there are.”

“I’d like to go and see them,” said Jo.

“You can’t,” said Silky. “The Land moves on to-day. It would be dangerous to go there now because it might move on at any moment. Then you’d be stuck in the Land of Marvels.”

“I don’t believe a word of it,” said Connie.

“She doesn’t believe in anything magic,” explained Jo, seeing that Silky looked rather surprised. “Don’t take any notice of her, Silky. She’ll believe all right soon.”

“I shall not,” said Connie. “I’m beginning to think this is all a horrid dream.”

“Well, go home and go to bed and dream your dream there,” said Jo, getting tired of Connie.

“I will,” said Connie, getting up, offended. “I’ll climb down the tree myself, and ask that kind red squirrel to see me home. This is a horrid party.”

The silly girl went to the door, opened it, went out and banged it shut. The others stared at one another.

“Is she always like that?” asked Moon-Face.

“Yes,” said Jo. “She’s an only child, and very spoilt, you know. Wants her own way always, and turns up her nose at everything. I’d better fetch her back.”

“No, don’t,” said Moon-Face. “She can’t come to any harm. Let her climb down the tree if she wants to. I only hope she peeps in at the Angry Pixie’s again. When I went past in the basket he was writing a letter again, but with red ink this time.”

“Then Connie will probably get red spots on her dress now!” said Fanny.

Connied looked down and saw Dame Washalot busy washing

But Connie hadn’t gone down the Tree. She stood outside on a branch, sulking. She looked down the tree and saw Dame Washalot busy washing again. Silly old woman! Connie didn’t feel as if she wanted to go near her, in case she got water all over her again. She looked upwards.

She was nearly at the top of the tree. She thought it would be fun to climb right up to the top, and look down on the forest. What a long way she would see!

She climbed upwards. She came to the top of the tree—and to her great astonishment the last branch of all touched the clouds! Yes—it went straight up into a vast white cloud that hung, floating, over the top of the Tree.

“Queer,” said Connie, looking up into the purple hole made by the tree-branch in the cloud. “Shall I go up there—into the cloud? Yes—I will.”

She went up the last branch—and to her still greater amazement there was a little ladder leading through the thickness of the cloud from the branch. A ladder!

Connie was full of great curiosity. She could hardly bear to wait to see what was at the top of the ladder. She climbed it—and suddenly her head poked right through the cloud, and into a new and different Land altogether!

“Well!” said Connie, in surprise. “So the children told the truth. There is a Land at the top of the Faraway Tree—and can I really be dreaming?”

She climbed up into the Land. It was queer. There was a curious humming noise in the air. Strange people walked quickly past, some looking like witches, and some like goblins. They took no notice of Connie.

“The Land is moving on!” cried one goblin to another. “It’s on the move again. Where shall we go to next?”

And then the Land of Marvels moved away from the top of the Tree—and took poor Connie with it!