THE COURT CRIER
They found themselves in a beautiful little bay of a bright green
color, fringed all round with neat little, curly, white waves, all
exactly four inches high and ten feet apart. "Like rows of tucks round
the bottom of a dress," thought Frances.
But the island itself was what most attracted their attention. It
was like a Japanese garden, with little green hills and little red
footpaths bordered with white shells; with little lakes and little
streams and little bridges; it was dotted all about with little houses
painted all sorts of bright colors; and there were flowers--flowers
everywhere. It was the prettiest place they had ever seen.
From all directions were little people running down to the pier to
meet them; the excited dragon was jumping about on top of his tower,
bellowing like a whole herd of milk cows at once; while all the
dog-fish, with their noses sticking out of the water, came swarming
from every direction, barking away--the great alarm of Periwinkle--as
loudly as they could, and making such a racket that Margaret and
Frances were obliged to put their fingers into their ears for fear of
being deafened.
Seeing this, the Admiral jumped out of his chair, waved his arms, and
shouted out, "King's guests! King's guests!" Whereupon, all those
polite and well-trained dog-fish leaped out of the water, and standing
on their heads, wagged their tails in welcome, sending into the air
showers of spray which the bright sun turned into dozens and dozens of
little rainbows. It was the prettiest thing you ever saw. The little
girls were delighted.
By this time the speed of the boat had very much slackened, it was
just gliding along with hardly a ripple toward the little wooden pier,
painted white with red posts, where the bright-colored little people
were standing in groups waiting for them. There were groups of little
men and groups of little women and groups of little children, some of
them dressed in pink and some in green and some in yellow and some in
orange and some in white and some in purple--but not a single one in
blue, as Frances was the first to notice.
"Do you see, Margaret?" she whispered. "There isn't one of them dressed
in blue. Not one!"
"So there isn't," replied her sister. "I wonder why."
But before she could ask why, the Admiral jumped into the bow of the
boat, took off his cocked hat, and waving it above his head, called
out again, "King's guests! King's guests!" Upon which all the little
people in little shrill voices shouted "Welcome to the King's guests!"
and waved their pocket handkerchiefs. It was just as though a flock of
pigeons had suddenly flown up out of a flower-bed.
At the same moment the children saw coming down the road a little
carriage drawn by two pretty little horses of the color of a new
horse-chestnut, with white manes, cut short, and with stiff little
white tails like bottle-brushes. The coachman, who sat up very straight
and stuck out his elbows with an air of great importance, was dressed
in a fuzzy white wig with a three-cornered hat on top of it, a green
coat with gold buttons, white knee-breeches and rose-colored stockings.
Altogether, he looked very smart indeed, and very well pleased with
himself, too, to judge by the way he smiled as he drew up his chubby
little horses at the far end of the pier.
For that matter, though, everybody was smiling away in a manner
so cheerful that the children thought they had never seen such a
merry-looking lot of people, and as smiles are just as catching as
whooping cough, Margaret and Frances could not help smiling too;
whereupon all the people on the pier smiled twice as much as before and
clapped their hands for joy.
"What nice people!" exclaimed Margaret.
"Yes. Aren't you glad we came?" responded her sister. "And such a
pretty place, too; and--I wonder who the old gentleman is, coming down
to the steps."
In fact, as the boat slowly glided up to the steps at the end of the
pier, an old gentleman came forward and took up his position on the
top step; all the rest of the people standing back at a respectful
distance, forming a half-circle behind him. He was a tall old
gentleman--for a Floating Islander--with a head perfectly bald except
for a fringe of white hair at the back extending from one ear to the
other; wearing a long green cloak with silver willow leaves embroidered
round the collar. In one hand he carried a large copper bell, like a
cow-bell, and in the other a sheet of parchment with a big red seal
hanging to it.
"The Court Crier," explained the Admiral, whispering behind his hand;
and as he said it, the boat stopped of its own accord at the bottom
step.
As if the stopping of the boat had been the moment he was waiting for,
the Court Crier began vigorously ringing his bell; whereupon all the
people ceased clapping their hands and stood quiet to hear what the
Court Crier might have to say. Even the dragon up on his tower--as the
little girls noticed--sat down again on his three-legged stool, and
folding two pairs of claws across his stomach, cocked his ears forward
to listen.
"Oh, yes! Oh, yes!" called the Court Crier, and after a short pause,
finding that nobody cried, "Oh, no!" he hung his bell about his neck,
unfolded his parchment, and having first bowed deferentially to the two
little girls--who, all this time were sitting in the boat, wondering
what was to happen next--he called out:
"Proclamation by the King! 'To Margaret and Frances, Greeting: Coco
Bolo, King of the Floating Islands, extends his hearty welcome to
Margaret and Frances and begs they will regard as their own his Island,
his People, his Dragon and Himself!'"
Having finished his reading, the Court Crier folded up his parchment
and put it into his pocket, and then, taking the bell from his neck, he
rang it once more. Upon this, all the little people clapped their hands
again, the dog-fish barked and the dragon bellowed; at which Margaret
and Frances were very glad, for it gave them time to think of a proper
reply.
Rising to their feet, and standing side by side in the boat, the two
little girls bowed to the Court Crier and the people behind him, when
the Court Crier held up his bell, upside-down, above his head, as a
sign for all sounds to cease.
Though neither of them had ever attempted to make a speech in their
lives, nor had even thought of doing such a thing, the two children,
for some reason, did not find themselves at all abashed at having to
stand up and deliver a formal reply to the King's proclamation. Perhaps
it was that the little people on the pier were so much smaller than
themselves; perhaps it was that their brightness and cheerfulness
and seeming readiness to be pleased gave the children confidence;
but whatever the cause, as soon as the people had ceased clapping
their hands and the dog-fish had ceased barking, and as soon as the
puppy-fish--which had been larking about according to the nature of
all puppies, growling and splashing and biting each other's tails--as
soon as they had been slapped by their elders and told to keep quiet,
Margaret made another polite bow, and said:
"Thank you, Mr. Court Crier. We are very much obliged to you; and we
are very much obliged to Coco Bolo Rex for inviting us to come, and we
are quite sure we shall enjoy ourselves."
"And," added Frances, "we never saw such a pretty place or such nice,
smiling people before."
These speeches evidently pleased the people very much, for they all
clapped their hands once more; and while they were doing so, the
Admiral and the Crew, jumping out of the boat, offered their hands to
Margaret and Frances to help them ashore.
No sooner had they set foot on the bottom step than there came running
out of the crowd two pretty little boys, one carrying a great bunch of
violets and the other a bunch of daffodils. The violets were evidently
intended for Margaret and the daffodils for Frances, but unfortunately,
just as he reached the top step, Margaret's little boy caught his toe
and down he fell, all down the steps, making a great clatter, and into
the water he would certainly have rolled had not Margaret caught him,
when, putting her foot on the next step above, she set him upon her
knee.
"Oh, you poor little boy!" she exclaimed. "You did hurt yourself,
didn't you?"
"Don't cry, Dearie," said Frances, bending over him with her
handkerchief in her hand, all ready to dry his tears. She made sure
he would cry tremendously; for what little boy would not after falling
down twelve steps and knocking his knees and his nose and his elbows on
every single one of them?
But this little boy, greatly to their surprise, did not make a sound.
He puckered up his face, indeed, as though he would very much like
to cry, but he did not. Instead of that, he looked hard at the Court
Crier, as though he expected _him_ to do something, though what the
little boy could possibly expect of a thin, dried up, bald headed old
gentleman like the Court Crier, the two children could not imagine.
The little boy, though, evidently knew what he was about.
"Where's my caddy?" shouted the Court Crier in a great hurry; whereupon
there ran out of the crowd another little boy with a number on his hat,
who carried hung around his neck with a pink ribbon, a little oblong
box, like an old-fashioned tea-caddy, divided into two compartments.
Lifting the lid of this box, the Court Crier took out of the left hand
compartment a large, clean pocket handkerchief, and then--! Down he
plumped on the top step and began crying floods of tears, bawling and
snuffling and making a great to do. If he had tumbled down a flight of
fifty marble steps himself he could not have made more fuss about it.
Margaret and Frances were standing with their eyes wide open, wondering
what was the meaning of it, when the Admiral, seeing how puzzled they
were, stepped up to them and whispered:
"He's the Court Crier, you know."
"Yes, I know," replied Margaret. "But what has that to do with it?"
"What has that to do with it!" repeated the Admiral, astonished in his
turn. "Why, everything. What do you suppose a Court Crier is for?"
"I don't know," replied Margaret. "What _is_ he for?"
"Why, to cry, of course, when anybody gets hurt."
"What!" exclaimed Frances. "Do you mean to say that people are not
allowed to cry for themselves?"
The Admiral shook his head. "Never," said he. "It couldn't be allowed
on any account. It is the special privilege of the Court Crier to do
all the crying. The office has been held by his family for ages. He is
one of the Weeping Willows, you know, as I told you."
[Illustration: _Down he plumped on the top step_]
The children were still wondering at this very funny arrangement,
when they noticed that the Court Crier every now and then moved his
handkerchief to one side and peeped with one eye at the little boy
on Margaret's knee, as if to see how he was getting on.
Observing this, Margaret also peeped at him, when she noticed that
the little boy, who at first had been screwing up his face into
all sorts of shapes, was gradually growing more and more composed,
until presently he burst out smiling again, and scrambling down from
Margaret's knee, he turned round and handed to her the bunch of
violets, just as though nothing had happened.
Instantly, the Court Crier jumped to his feet, wrung half a pint of
tears out of his handkerchief, and rolling it up into a ball, he opened
the lid of his caddy-box and flung the handkerchief into the other
compartment.
"Pardon the interruption, Ladies," said he. "We will now proceed."
At this, the Admiral and the Crew presented their hands to the two
little girls and led them up the steps, when, the moment they set foot
on the pier, all the little people ran and arranged themselves in two
rows on either side of a long green carpet with red borders which
stretched all the way to the other end; a band on shore struck up a
merry tune; the Court Crier, drawing himself up as tall as he could,
called out, "Form the procession!" and everyone at once fell into his
proper place.
First of all marched the two little boys; then the Court Crier; then
Periwinkle; then Margaret and Frances, hand in hand; and after them the
Admiral and the Crew; the people, all clapping their hands to keep time
to the music, falling in behind as they passed, so that ere they had
reached the other end of the pier the procession was quite a long one.
"It's just as if we were princesses," remarked Margaret.
"Yes. Isn't it fun!" cried Frances; and looking at the rows of smiling
little people, the two children could not help laughing and kissing
their hands to them, as they had heard was the custom of princesses.
Whether it was the custom of princesses or not, it was plainly the
right thing to do here, for the people all began to sing and dance,
holding hands, while the band played louder than ever, and the two
round, fat little horses in the carriage stood on their hind legs and
waved their front feet in the air as if to welcome the King's guests.
As soon as the procession reached the end of the pier, the Court Crier
opened the carriage door, when Margaret and Frances got in and away
they went, still in procession: all the children running in front,
scattering flowers on the road; then the Court Crier, ringing his bell;
then the band; then the Admiral and the Crew, arm in arm; then the
carriage; and then the people all dancing in pairs.
Pretty soon the children saw before them a beautiful little palace,
built of pink and white coral in alternate layers, with battlements
and towers and balconies and terraces and a big, arched front gate
like a church doorway. On either side of the entrance-gate sat a line
of sentinels on chestnut horses, six on each side, their brass helmets
glittering in the sun, their chests stuck out and their backs very
straight, trying their best to look fierce and warlike.
In this, however, they were not very successful, for though their
moustaches stood out as stiff as gimlets, their faces looked so
cheerful that Margaret and Frances felt sure their fierceness was all
put on for appearance-sake.
"We can easily find out," said Frances. "Let's kiss our hands to them,
and see if they don't smile."
"Very well," replied her sister. "I expect that is what a princess
would do, anyhow. I know I should if I were a princess. So let's do it."
It was a most successful move. The soldiers all broke into smiles of
the largest size and waved their swords in the air; their steeds stood
up on their hind feet and danced round and round like performing dogs;
and thus passing between the two lines of capering horses, the carriage
rolled through the gateway into the palace courtyard, the band and
the people remaining outside and only the Court Crier and the Admiral
accompanying the King's guests to the foot of the palace steps.