Funny Man untwisted the figure eight at the point of his nose, and
removed a small copper cap which covered the end. He then struck a match
and applied it to the bottom of this macaroni-like tube. A light like a
large star at once appeared, and shed its yellow beams about so widely
as to make the gloomy forest-road as light as day.
"Excuse me for speaking of it," said the Prince, politely, "but that's a
strange sort of nose you have."
"Not at all," answered the Funny Man, carelessly; "very common in these
parts,--very common, indeed. Simply a sort of slow-match; grows in the
daytime as much as it burns away at night. Come on! I'm going to run,
and you must catch me. Hurrah! Now you see me and now you don't!"
[Illustration]
Alas for the poor Prince! it was mostly "don't." The light flickered and
danced ahead of him like a will-o'-the-wisp, and was often lost
entirely; while the tired boy, burdened with his cumbersome box,
hastened after as best he might, stumbling and tumbling over stones and
tough roots, splashing through miry places and running violently against
tree-trunks, till just as he was ready to sink down in despair and let
his unpleasant companion go where he would, he came suddenly upon the
Funny Man resting upon the gate of a curious little house, and laughing
with great glee at the race he had led the Prince.
"Here we are," said the Funny Man; "come in! My wife's at home, and I've
no doubt supper's all ready except the seasoning. I always season things
myself, because I'm something of an epicure."
As he spoke, he led the way into the house, having put out his light and
once more wound his nose up into its figure eight.
XIV
The room in which the Prince found himself was bright and cheery, and
the table was laid for supper. The wife of the Funny Man was rather a
mournful-looking woman, which the Prince privately thought was by no
means to be wondered at. She had a somewhat peculiar and startling
appearance, from the fact that her head was twisted completely round on
her body, so that she faced the wrong way.
"Curious effect, isn't it?" asked the Funny Man, as he observed that the
Prince was staring at his wife. "I did it one day for a joke, and the
best part of it all is that I have forgotten the charm to bring her
round right again."
"Does she think it is a joke?" asked the Prince.
[Illustration]
"As to that," replied the Funny Man, indifferently, "I don't know,
because I never asked her, and I certainly do not care one way or
another."
"?reppus ot nwod tis ot uoy esaelp ti lliW" said the woman, after the
Funny Man had busied himself a few moments with the dishes.
Vance stared in confusion, but the Funny Man seemed quite used to this
odd way of speaking.
"Her talk is all hind-side before," he explained, chuckling, "since I
turned her head about. Sit down! Supper is ready."
They all sat down. The unfortunate woman faced the wall behind her, and
therefore she was a little awkward in ladling the soup. However, that
was a slight affair, and Vance was far too famished to be particular.
The pottage gave forth a most appetizing odor, and the Prince hastily
plunged in his spoon and began to eat. He had not taken a fair taste
before he stopped eating with a terribly wry face. The soup was bitterer
than gall.
"Don't you like the seasoning?" snickered the Funny Man. "Now, come,
that's too bad, when I thought 'twould be just to your liking!"
Too angry to speak, the Prince snatched a glass of water and drank, only
to find it scalding hot and full of salt.
"Try a bit of venison pasty," urged his host, pleasantly. "No more
fooling, on my word!"
"?opiH, enola dlihc roop eht tel uoy t'nac yhW" asked the wife, who
seemed to be as kind-hearted as could be expected of one so twisted.
The Prince, however, had already tasted of the pasty, which proved
hotter than fire with red pepper. So it was with everything on the
table. Nothing was fit to eat. The ragout was full of pins and needles,
the wine was drugged with nauseous herbs, the cakes were stuffed with
cotton; and the Prince cracked his teeth instead of the almonds, which
were cleverly made out of stone.
All this nonsense was very bitter to the hungry Prince, as you may
suppose; but as for the Funny Man, he was quite wild with delight. He
rolled over and over on the floor, and the tears of joy streamed down
his cheeks at the success of his jokes.
"This is the best fun I've had for months," he cried. "This is joy! This
is true happiness!"
"A very poor sort of happiness," the Prince said ruefully. "I think I
will go to bed."
Alas! here things were just as bad. As the Prince entered his chamber a
bucket of ice-cold water, balanced above, fell down and drenched him to
the skin. His bed was full of eels and frogs; and when the poor boy
tried to get a nap in a chair a tame owl and a pair of pet bats flapped
their wings in his face and tweaked his nose and ears. At the earliest
peep of dawn the tortured Prince shouldered his box and left his
chamber.
Sitting on the balustrade, whittling, was the host.
XV
"Good-morning!" said the Funny Man, politely. "I hope you slept well."
"I did not sleep at all," replied the Prince, hotly; "and of course you
knew I wouldn't."
"That was the joke, you know," the Funny Man chuckled, pocketing his
knife and preparing to lead the way to the breakfast-table.
The Prince, however, had no mind for another feast like that of the
night before; so he resisted all urging and started forth.
"Don't miss the way!" said the Funny Man, who seemed to be much cast
down because the Prince would not stay to breakfast. "Cross the stream,
you know, than climb a red stile, and there you are on the straight
road. If ever I come your way I'll make you a visit. I've taken a fancy
to you."
"That's more than I've done to you," muttered Vance, as he trudged away.
He was very angry indeed with the Funny Man, and yet he had an
unpleasant remembrance of a time, not so very far away, when he himself
was the terror of the entire palace on account of his fondness for
playing cruel jokes upon others.
The road was rough, the sun was hot, and the Prince was so famished that
he was glad to devour a couple of apples which had fallen from the cart
of a peasant bound for market. Still Vance cheered himself with the
thought that his troubles were about to end. He was now near the home of
the Crushed Strawberry Wizard; so he pressed on till mid-afternoon, only
stopping once when he came upon some pears growing upon a stunted tree
by the roadside. They were small, crabbed, and stony; but the hungry
Prince was glad enough to gather a number and eat them seated in the
pear-tree's scanty shade. As to the Court, it was quite a relief to
Vance to remember that the peasants at the fair had provided the
baby-house with cakes and bonbons enough to last for many days.
"After all," the Prince said to himself, as he once more trudged
along,--"after all, they have a far easier time of it than I. I don't
think I should much mind being little myself if I could have as good a
time as they do."
Toward the middle of the afternoon the Prince reached a dark wood into
which his road seemed to lead him. He had not walked far before he heard
a sound as of somebody sobbing, and also a curious clashing noise as of
cymbals striking together. These sounds became more and more distinct as
the Prince kept on; and at last he came to a small monkey who was seated
in a low juniper-tree, weeping most bitterly and now and then smiting
its hands together in sorrow. The hands of the monkey, being of metal
(as indeed was the creature's entire body), produced, as they beat
together, the cymbal-like sounds which the Prince had heard.
"What is the matter?" asked the Prince, as the monkey continued to weep
without paying any attention whatever to him.
[Illustration]
The monkey, looking up, wiped its eyes upon a small lace handkerchief
which was already quite damp enough.
"I am so miserable," it sighed. "Did you never hear folk say it was cold
enough to freeze the tail off a brass monkey? I am the brass monkey.
They mean me; they mean my tail."
"But it never has been cold enough to freeze your tail off," said the
Prince, consolingly.
"No," replied the monkey, wretchedly; "but then I'm always afraid it
will be, and that's just as bad. Oh, what a world this is!"
The monkey upon this fell to weeping more bitterly than before, and the
Prince sneezed violently three times.
"There!" exclaimed the monkey, dismally; "now you're taking cold because
I'm so damp with crying."
"Oh, never mind that!" replied the Prince, politely. "It really doesn't
matter. A good sneeze is really quite refreshing."
"That reminds me," said the monkey, "that I was sent to tell you to go
back again; this isn't the road."
"Not the--" began the Prince, looking puzzled.
"Road," finished the monkey, beginning to cry once more. "To the Crushed
Strawberry Wizard's, you know. You have just come back by another way
nearly to the Castle of Bogarru, where the giant lives. The Funny Man
told you wrong."
"Told me wrong!" repeated the poor Prince, now thoroughly discouraged.
"Yes," said the monkey, "for a joke, you know. Oh, my beautiful brass
tail! What a world this is!"
"This is the very worst and meanest joke of the whole!" cried the
Prince.
He shivered at the idea of being once more near the castle of the
terrible giant; and then he remembered the weary miles he had travelled
that day under the burning sun, and thinking of these things he could
have wept with right good-will, had it not been that the brass monkey
had already made quite a pool of tears, and Vance was afraid of causing
a flood.
"You must go back the way you came," said the monkey, wringing the tears
from its handkerchief. "It will take you longer than it did to come,
because now it will be night. At daybreak you will see three silver
birches in a meadow; then climb the hedge and follow a row of large
white stones till you come to a green stile; after this the path is
straight to the Crushed Strawberry Wizard's door. You cannot miss it."
"If this is true," said the Prince, "I am a thousand times obliged to
you. But are you quite certain that this, too, is not a joke?"
"Oh, my jointed brass body!" cried the monkey, mournfully. "Now, do I
look like a joker? I never made a joke in my life, never."
"I should be only too glad," said the Prince, as he turned to go, "to do
something to cheer you up, if I might."
"Oh, no!" wailed the monkey; "nobody can do anything. Besides, I like to
be miserable; it is the only comfort I have. Go! it is getting darker
every minute. Oh, my brass toes and fingers, what a world this is!"
At this the monkey wept so violently that Vance had to give up all idea
of thanking him or even of saying good-by; so he contented himself by
turning and hastening back along the path by which he had come.
[Illustration]
XVI
Nearly all night the Prince kept on over the stony road. When the sky
grew gray, he took a short nap under a thorny hedge, and by sunrise he
was once more on his way. On his right, in a beautiful green field, he
saw to his great delight three silver birches, their branches rustling
lightly in the morning wind.
Vance climbed the hedge and walked on steadily, being guided, as the
monkey had promised, by a seemingly endless row of pure white stones. At
noon he came upon a green stile, but it was so crooked that the Prince
thought he could more easily climb the hedge than get over it. As he
drew nearer he perceived a curious little man, who appeared to be
hunting for something in the grass at the foot of the stile. He was a
good-natured-looking old man; but his head, body, arms, and legs, even
his features, were twisted so that nothing about him was fair or
straight. He greeted the Prince very kindly, however, and invited him to
sit down by the brook and share his luncheon of bread and cheese. This,
you may imagine, the famished Prince was only too glad to do.
[Illustration]
"You've heard, perhaps," said the stranger, "of the crooked man who
walked a crooked mile and found a crooked sixpence against a crooked
stile? I am the man. I haven't found the sixpence yet, but hope to do so
soon. I want to warn you, when you reach the Crushed Strawberry
Wizard's, not to speak until he has spoken, or you'll spoil the charm
for ten years."
"How good you are!" exclaimed the Prince, gratefully. "How terrible if,
after all my journeying, I had spoilt the charm! Can I do anything for
you? I will help hunt for the sixpence if you like, or I will beg the
Wizard to untwist you."
"Oh, never mind!" returned the Crooked Man, cheerfully. "As to the
sixpence, I must find that myself; and as to my crookedness, a whirlwind
did it and a whirlwind must undo it. I don't mind. You see, I do not
feel as badly as I look."
Thanking the kind little man once more for his luncheon and his good
advice, Vance started off merrily through the beech-wood, feeling that
his toilsome journey was truly drawing to an end at last. The birds
sang, the brook babbled cheerfully beside him, and the breeze brought
him sweet odors from a thousand flowers. Just at sunset the Prince left
the wood, and came into a small open glade where the grass was like cool
green velvet to his feet, and a crystal fountain splashed in the midst
of a bed of flowers. Here Vance beheld a curious pink house shaped like
an enormous strawberry; and before the door, busily making tatting, was
a strange-looking person, all of a pinkish magenta color even to his
hair, and wearing a gown and pointed hat of the same unpleasant hue.
Prince Vance had found the Crushed Strawberry Wizard at last.
XVII
It was well that Vance had been warned by the Crooked Man not to speak
first, as he certainly would have done so, for in truth the Crushed
Strawberry Wizard did not appear to be at all a talkative sort of man.
He did indeed look up as Vance came near and put down his box; but he
said nothing, and closing his eyes, went on making tatting in silence.
Vance stood on one foot awhile, and then on the other. He counted the
white doves upon the peaked roof, and watched a small old lady who was
gathering herbs in the tiny garden beside the house; but he was very
careful not to speak. At last his patience was rewarded. The Wizard
opened his eyes and spoke.
"The reason," he said very slowly, "that a sausage cannot walk is that
it has no legs. You can understand that, can't you?"
"Oh, certainly!" replied the Prince, politely.
He was extremely anxious not to say anything to make the Wizard angry.
"Well, then," returned the Wizard, "don't pretend that you can't, that's
all."
For some time longer the Wizard made tatting in silence; then once again
he spoke.
"The reason," he said gravely, "that a horse has no trunk is because it
is not an elephant. Can you see the philosophy of that?"
"Yes, your--" "Majesty," the Prince was about to say, in his eagerness
to be polite; but he changed his mind just in time, and said
courteously, "Yes, your Wizardship."
This appeared to please the Wizard, for he bent his head three times and
invited the Prince in to tea. The table was already spread; and seated
about it were the old lady Vance had seen herb-gathering, and nine
black cats with green eyes, peaked caps, and nice white napkins under
their chins. The Wizard placed a chair for the Prince.
"This is my wife," he said, waving his hand toward the tiny old lady.
"She is a professional witch. She eats nothing but grasshoppers gathered
when the moon is full."
The Wizard here lowered his voice mysteriously and bent toward Vance.
"Economical," he said, "very economical. She hardly costs me a groat a
year, except for her high-heeled shoes; those come dear, but she must
have them, being a professional witch, you know. Now, as to these cats,
how many lives should you guess they had among them, eh?"
"I have heard," replied the Prince, "that every cat has nine lives, so I
should think that there must be eighty-one lives here."
"You'd be wrong, then," said the Wizard, "for some of these cats have
only one or two lives left. I keep 'em, you understand, so that when
folks lose their lives, all they have to do is to come to me and I can
sell them new ones from the cats."
"Do the cats like it?" asked Vance.
"They don't mind," replied the Wizard. "Anyhow, they know they've all
got to come to it. When the last life is gone, a cat turns into a wind;
you've heard them of a March night, yowling about the castle turrets."
"The moon," said the witch, speaking for the first time, "being probably
if not otherwise added to this whose salt, magnifying."
"You are right, my dear," said the Wizard, "as you always are. The boy
_is_ better off in bed."
Upon this the Wizard left the table and led Vance to a neat little
bed-chamber, where he bade him good-night. The Prince, having opened his
box to give his family some air, lay down and enjoyed the first night of
slumber in a bed which he had known since leaving the palace.
The next morning, after breakfasting with the Wizard, the witch, and the
cats, the Prince was called into the garden and given a spade.
"Just dig awhile, as we talk," said the Wizard, seating himself, "and
see if you can find any Greek roots. My wife wants some for a philter
she is making."
[Illustration]
"Tintypes," observed the witch, "catnip promulgating canticles
concerning emoluments, producing."
Vance stared; but the Wizard, who was evidently accustomed to this odd
sort of talk, answered quietly:
"You are right, as usual, my dear. He must be very careful not to cut
them in two with his spade."
The Prince took the spade and began to dig, though not very hopefully.
The truth was, he had never been at all successful in finding Greek
roots himself; and besides he was longing to ask the Wizard for the
charm which should restore his family. However, he dug away bravely and
said nothing till the Wizard spoke to him.
"I suppose," said the Wizard, at length, "that, as to your family, you
know the rule for simple reduction, don't you?"
"Yes," said the Prince, doubtfully, "I do if that page wasn't torn out
of my book. However, I could learn it."
"Learn it, then," said the Wizard; "and when you have learned it, use
it."
"But, if you please," ventured the Prince, humbly, "they are already
reduced to the lowest terms. I don't wish to reduce them any more."
"All right, then," replied the Wizard, crossly; for the truth was,
that, having a variety of affairs on his mind that day, he had forgotten
that Vance's Court were pygmies, and was thinking they were giants, and
a wizard never likes to find himself mistaken. "All right, then; don't
reduce them. I'm sure I don't care what you do."
"Oh, don't say that!" begged the Prince, with tears in his eyes. "Please
don't act as if you didn't care! Oh, your Wizardship, I've come so far
to find you, and I've met such unpleasant people, and such horrible
things have happened to me on the way, pray do not refuse to help me now
that I have found you at last!"
"Well, then," returned the Wizard, "be polite, and do as I tell you. Do
you find any roots, by the by?"
"Not one," said the Prince, leaning on his spade in despair.
"That's bad," said the Wizard. "I would sell the charm to you for one
Greek root."
"Oh," cried the Prince, "my tutor has some, I know. His head used to be
full of them; and unless they have grown so small that he has lost them,
I'll be bound he has them still."
[Illustration]
Upon this the Prince hastened to open his box, and, to his great
delight, succeeded in obtaining from his tutor several Greek roots
which, though small, were of good shape and in fair condition. These
being given to the Wizard, and by him handed to the witch, the Prince
waited eagerly for the charm to be told him.
But the Wizard had apparently no mind to speak. He whistled a few
moments, and then, drawing a string from his pocket, began to make a
cat's-cradle over his long crushed-strawberry fingers.
"I've sent a message by telegraph to the court cat," he announced. "Go
through that white gateway, and you'll come to the high-road. It is the
southern boundary of Jolliland. Your way is straight. By sunset you will
be at the castle. The cat knows all."
XVIII
The Prince thanked the Wizard, though not very warmly: for, to tell the
truth, he did not much believe that the Wizard had sent a message to the
cat; and even if he had, Vance had in times past so hectored and
tormented that poor animal that he felt some delicacy in asking a favor
from her now. However, he kept on in the direction pointed out, passed
through the white gate, and started forth merrily enough along the
high-road. He was disturbed, indeed, by some fears of the wicked General
Bopi; but he had, in spite of himself, some faith in the Crushed
Strawberry Wizard, and he meant to be very cautious in approaching the
palace.
By sundown, as the Wizard had promised, the young Prince found his long
journey ended, and beheld at last the dear old home where he was born
and had always lived till his own misdoings sent him forth. How
beautiful it looked to the worn and footsore Prince, with its velvety
terraces, its clear blue lake, marble statues, and crystal fountains,
lovely flowers, waving ferns, and shady trees, and, above all, the great
golden palace itself, its turrets flashing and glittering in the rays of
the setting sun! The Prince could have wept for very joy.
Everything about the palace seemed wonderfully still. The white swans
slept upon the lake, and the peacocks stood like jewelled images upon
the terrace.
Peeping about cautiously for any signs of the wicked General, the Prince
made his way softly through the shrubbery till he was very near the
front entrance of the palace. Still no signs of the pretended king. The
court cat, sleeker than in the days when Vance made her life a burden,
sat alone on the upper step, placidly washing herself.
"You may as well come out from behind that almond-tree," she said, "for
I see you plainly enough."
At this the Prince came out, still cautiously looking about him, and set
his box down upon the steps.
"Dear cat," he said politely, "how do you do?"
"Humph!" replied Tabby, rather unpleasantly. "'Dear cat!' How touching!"
"I've been gone a long time," ventured the Prince.
"That may be," returned the cat; "the days have passed swiftly enough
with us here. We have not grown thin in your absence."
"That is true," the Prince assented rather shamefacedly, and he
hastened to change the subject. "Where is everybody?"
"Beheaded," replied the cat, briefly; "that is, all but the King."
"Do you mean General Bopi?" asked the Prince. "You know I have the real
King here in my box."
"Don't quibble!" retorted the cat, sharply. "A king is known by his
deeds. If you have seen the way he's been beheading people right and
left, I think you'd call him something more than a general. What few he
has left alive have fled from the palace and are hiding in the woods."
[Illustration]
"And where is the Gen--King himself?" asked Vance, uneasily.
"Oh!" replied the cat, carelessly, "he's 'round."
"'Round where?" asked Vance.
"'Round here," the cat replied.
"I don't see him," said the Prince, with a start, as he looked about him
on all sides.
"No?" said the cat. "That's because you can't see through me."
"How very strangely you talk, cat!" exclaimed Vance. "I don't know what
you mean."
"Well," returned the cat, "you know those funny bonbons?"
"Yes," murmured the Prince, hanging his head a bit and blushing.
"One rolled under the sofa," the cat observed thoughtfully.
"Yes," said Vance, "I remember that one was dropped and I couldn't find
it."
"After the telegram reached me from the Crushed Strawberry Wizard,"
remarked the cat, "I rolled the bonbon out into the middle of the
floor. It was a pretty pink bonbon, and the King, coming into the room,
saw it and gobbled it up."
"Well," exclaimed the Prince, breathlessly, "what then?"
The cat put out her tongue and licked her chops.
"He was very tender," she said.
"You ate him?" he asked breathlessly.
The cat placidly nodded her head, her whiskers twitching with the
remembrance of her feast.
"Then," cried Prince Vance, joyously, "my father is King again, or will
be when he is made big enough. You say you had a telegram from the
Crushed Strawberry Wizard. Tell me, do tell me, dear cat, what it said."
"I can't till midnight," said the cat, "or all will be spoiled, and the
charm won't work."
XIX