Читать книгу Dick, Marjorie and Fidge: A Search for the Wonderful Dodo - G. E. Farrow - Страница 8

Table of Contents

At the top of the ladder the children found themselves in the midst of a crowd of curious little pigmies, dressed in all sorts of quaint and fantastic costumes.

They were the oddest little creatures that you can possibly imagine, with eyes and ears that seemed to be too big for their heads, and tiny little spindle legs that looked quite incapable of supporting their big bodies.

They spoke in a shrill, clear, bell-like voice, which, although they were such tiny creatures, could be heard distinctly.

“So you don’t believe in fairies, eh!” they cried, clustering about the children.

“I do,” declared Marjorie, stoutly.

“Yes, and me do, too,” said Fidge, looking about him delightedly.

“But,” objected Dick, “I’ve always been told that fairies, and elves, and gnomes, and things of that sort were merely myths, and existed only in the imagination of story-tellers.”

“He—he—he,” giggled the little people. “The same old story. They told you that to hide their ignorance, my child.”

“I’m thirteen years old,” declared Dick, haughtily, for he did not at all approve of being called a child.

“Oh, are you indeed!” was the reply, amid shouts of laughter. “I suppose you think yourself quite a man, and are consequently too old to believe in the fairies, who are more than thirteen thousand years old.”

“You know you used to believe in them, Dick,” interposed Marjorie. “Don’t you remember how we used to enjoy that lovely fairy book Aunt May gave us, and dear old ‘Alice in Wonderland,’ and——”

“That was years ago,” interrupted Dick, turning very red. “I’ve had it all explained to me since that, and I don’t read those kind of books now.”

“Do you read Shakespeare?” demanded one of the little folks.

“Some of it,” replied Dick, doubtfully.

“Have you ever read ιMidsummer Night’s Dream?᾿”

“Oh, yes! Jolly! Titania, and Oberon, and Puck, and all that lot, you know; and the jolly little chaps that——”

“Hullo! I thought you didn’t believe in fairies,” interrupted some one.

“Oh, well, that’s different, you know; that’s Shakespeare, and—and——”

“And what? I suppose you’ll admit that he believed in them?”

“Well, I suppose so,” said Dick, grudgingly; “but I——”

“But you imagine yourself to be cleverer than Shakespeare.”

“Ha—ha—ha!” laughed a chorus of little people, derisively.

“Look here! I’ll tell you what it is,” said the first speaker, “you have evidently been taught by some of those wise old know-nothings, who have succeeded in making you as clever as themselves, and it is our intention to show you how ignorant you all are. I think you will believe in fairies before we have done with you. Now, we are gnomes, and have just completed a subterranean passage between here and the land of the little Panjandrum.”

"Four extraordinary figures came in sight."

The word little was spoken so softly as to be quite indistinct. “The what!” cried Dick.

“Sh! the little Panjandrum,” said the gnome, speaking the word almost inaudibly.

“What do you say it like that for?” asked the children.

“Well, you see, his Magnificence and Serene Importance is somewhat sensitive on the subject; there is the Grand Panjandrum, you know.”

“Oh, I see,” said Dick, “and the other chap doesn’t like to take a back seat, that’s it, is it? Well, who is the Little Panjandrum, anyhow?”

“Sh! sh!” cried the gnomes, looking about them nervously. “You really mustn’t say little as loudly as that. Supposing any one heard you?”

“Well, what if they did?” asked Dick.

“O! His Serene Importance would be terribly angry, and perhaps would——”

What the conclusion of the sentence was to have been the children never knew, for at that moment there was a loud clattering noise in the passage leading from the cave, and a moment afterwards four extraordinary figures came in sight.

They were mounted upon ostriches, and one of them, more richly caparisoned than the others, had a kind of canopy attached to his trappings, beneath which sat a stern-faced little man with an elaborate turban and head-dress. He wore also a very curious collar, from which depended a large gold ornament of curious design. He carried in one hand a long pipe, and with the other guided his strange steed.

"What do you know about the Dodo?"

The others of the party, who were evidently his attendants, each carried a banner emblazoned with mysterious signs and characters.

The silver bells attached to the head of the ostrich, and on the top of the canopy over the grandee, tinkled merrily as he came forward.

“In the name of the little Panjandrum,” he shouted, in a loud voice, and immediately all the gnomes bowed respectfully almost down to the ground.

“His Serene Importance and Most Magnificent Greatness is grievously distressed.”

The gnomes all brought forth little pocket-handkerchiefs, and began to cry.

“The Dodo presented to His Worshipful Gorgeousness by the Grand Panjandrum himself has escaped!”

The gnomes all threw up their hands in dismay.

“Why, we saw it,” cried Marjorie, excitedly. “Didn’t we, Dick?”

The little man on the ostrich turned around sharply, and after staring at the children for a moment, shouted—

“Who are you?”

“I am Dick Verrinder, sir, and this is my sister Marjorie, and our little brother Fidge,” said Dick politely. “We are spending our summer holiday at Mrs. Lawrence’s cottage on the other side of the cliff. The tide rose very high this morning, and we——”

“Don’t tell me all that nonsense. What do you know about the Dodo?” said the little man, impatiently.

“Why, we met it floating about on a chair, and it told us that it was going to the Equator to meet a—a—er—a——”

“Well?”

“It was something with a very long name,” stammered Dick; “I can’t quite remember what.”

“Look here,” said the little man, bending forward excitedly, “that story won’t do for me. I am the Ambassador Extraordinary of his Magnificence the little Panjandrum, and you tell me that you have seen the Dodo; that is enough. Now then! Where is it? It’s no use telling me that it has gone off to keep an appointment with something with a long name. I say, where is the bird? If you don’t instantly produce that Dodo I shall take you before the Court of Inquisitives, and let them deal with you.”

“But I tell you,” began Dick, while Marjorie clung to his arm in affright, and Fidge scowled angrily at hearing his idolized big brother spoken to in this peremptory manner, “I tell you that we only saw it for a——”

“That’s quite enough. Don’t argue the point. I shall give you one week from now, and if at the end of that time you do not appear at the Palace of the little Panjandrum with the Dodo, I shall apply to the Grand Panjandrum himself to have you subtransexdistricated, so there!”

“But——”

“Not another word. Ink! Paper! Pens!” he commanded, getting off his ostrich and squatting down before a flat stone, while the little gnomes ran hither and thither, getting in each other’s way, and tripping and stumbling about in all directions in their eagerness to do the Ambassador’s bidding.

“Sit down!” he ordered, and the children sat down on the ground in front of him. There was a slight difficulty about the ink at this point, for the gnomes, not being quite strong enough to carry the inkstand, turned it over on its side to roll it forward, and of course spilled all the ink. They managed, however, to gather up some of it in their caps, and so kept the Ambassador supplied.

"Dick suddenly shot up to the height of over six feet."

“Now then! Know all men by these presents,” he began, writing the words down as he spake them.

“He’s going to give us some presents,” whispered Fidge, giving Dick a nudge. Dick shook his head reprovingly, and the little man continued—

“That whereas three children, named respectively—what did you say your name was?”

“Richard Greville Verrinder, Sir.”

“Richard Greville Verrinder, and—what’s your sister’s name?”

“Marjorie Evelyn Verrinder.”

“Marjorie Evelyn Verrinder, and——”

“Harold Ellis Verrinder,” prompted Dick.

“Who’s that?” inquired the Ambassador, sharply.

“My little brother,” was the reply.

“You said his name was Fidge.”

“Oh, yes, but that’s his nickname, you know.”

“I don’t know anything of the sort. Now then, just keep quiet while I finish this document. There,” he continued, when he had finished writing some mysterious-looking words on the paper, and had attached two enormous red seals to it—“that’s your warrant for arresting the Dodo, when you have found him; and it is also an authority from the little Panjandrum for you at any time to become any size that you wish; to float through the air at will; and to live under water if necessary. So you have everything in your favor, and I shall expect the Dodo back in less than a week. Do you hear? Now I’m off.”

The little man mounted his ostrich, and without saying a word more to any one, he and his followers rode off in the direction from whence they had come.

“Well, I never!” said Dick, picking up the scrawl which had fallen at his feet. “Here’s a go! We’ve got to find that beastly old Dodo in less than a week, or be—what was it?”

“I don’t know,” said Marjorie, dolefully, “it was something very long, and sounded dreadful.”

“But what’s that he said about our being able to be any size that we wished? I’m sure I wish I was as tall as father.”

“Me, too,” said Fidge, emphatically.

“And I should love to float about in the air, I’m sure!” declared Marjorie.

The words were scarcely out of her mouth when she felt herself wafted gently off her feet, while at the same moment Dick, to Fidge’s intense surprise, suddenly shot up to the height of over six feet, and looked so very ridiculous, that all three of them burst out into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.