[Sidenote: FUNNY BOBS.]
only they were rather different from other bicycles, as, in place of the
small hind-wheels, there were funny little fellows, made up of a head
and three legs; and as they stood on one foot, with the other two in the
air, and their noses thrust through the end of the bar, they looked
very comical. Still more funny was it when the boys went forward to look
closer, and the little three-legged men made them a bow, which they did
by touching their caps with one leg, bobbing forward on another, and
back again. The wheels and treddles were made of gold, the seats were
lined with crimson velvet, and the little men had blue tights and silver
caps and shoes; so everything looked very smart. The boys could not
understand how the bicycles stood upright without anything to hold the
wheels, and began talking about them, wondering whether they could move
of themselves. They had scarcely spoken of this, when, as if to show off
their powers, the little men began to turn round on their three legs, and
move slowly about the room. They steered their way among the furniture
most cleverly, and at last as each stopped beside one of the boys they
all touched their caps, and bobbed from one leg to another, as before.
“Are we to get up?” said Jaques, timidly.
[Sidenote: OFF THEY GO.]
Bob went all the little men.
“Does that mean yes?” said Norval.
Bob.
“But where are we going?” said Ranulf.
“To Wonderland, of course,” said Jaques.
“All right,” said the other two, and they all scrambled up on the
bicycles.
The moment they were seated, the three little men gave a shrill
whistle, as a railway engine does before it starts, and off they went
at a tremendous pace. The boys had barely time to think how hard the
drawing-room wall would be, when the whole party went straight through it
as if it had been, like circus hoops, filled in with paper. Norval went
across the library and out at the window, but papa did not seem to notice
him; he only got up and closed the sash, as if he had felt a draught.
Jaques passed through the butler’s pantry, but the butler only scratched
his ear, as if something had tickled him. Ranulf shot at a slant through
the nursery, clutching a penny trumpet off the table as he passed, but
nurse only gave a shiver, and said, “Deary me, I do feel so queasy
queer!”
[Sidenote: DISTANCE LENDS.]
They were going so fast, that Norval, looking round the moment they
were outside the house, saw papa’s head, not bigger than a black pin’s,
looking out of a window, that seemed smaller than a halfpenny stamp; and
Jaques caught sight of Oscar, the house dog, who looked like a comma
with its tail wagging. Besides, they kept mounting up in the air as well
as going on, so that the fields looked no bigger than the squares of a
chess-board, and the trees between them, in their autumn tints, like rows
of brass nails on a green-baize door. Before they could count fifty, the
world itself, when they looked back, was like one of those funny worsted
balls that show a number of different colours. The little men were
spinning so fast that their silver caps, blue hose, and bright shoes ran
into circles, till they looked like silver wheels with a blue enamel ring
on them.
“Isn’t it funny that we aren’t frightened?” said Jaques.
[Sidenote: FAST IDEAS.]
“I think we would be if we had time,” said Norval (who was the thinking
one of the three), “only we are going so fast that there’s no time to be
frightened.”
“Perhaps it’s because we’re asleep like Alice, after all,” said Ranulf,
looking very wise.
“Oh no; because you see when people are asleep they are still, and we are
going so fast that it would be sure to wake us,” replied Jaques.
“But we can be still and go fast all the same, can’t we?” said Ranulf.
“Oh no, you silly!” said Jaques.
“Oh yes,” said Ranulf; “because we can go still faster; and if we can go
still faster, why can’t we go still fast?”
“Oh yes, to be sure,” said Jaques; “and besides, of course, a man can be
fast and still at the same time, for if he is made fast with rope he must
be still.”
“And we _are_ going fast still,” said Norval, as the bicycles flew on;
“but I don’t see yet how we can be still and fast both.”
[Sidenote: A STEADY SWELL.]
The three seemed likely to get into a regular muddle about this, when
their attention was suddenly called off by Jaques catching sight of
something that looked first like a new threepenny-piece, and in another
second like a big shining tin plate.
“What’s that?” said Jaques. While he was saying this, it had grown as big
as a drum.
“Perhaps it’s a giant’s dish,” said Ranulf. It was now as big as a circus.
“It’s getting too big for that,” said Jaques. By this time it was as
large as a race-course, and in another second it was too great to be like
anything.
[Sidenote: CRUSTY CRESCENT.]
Norval, who had been thinking, was just going to say, “Perhaps it’s the
moon,” when the Man in the Moon put his head out at one side, and looking
as grumpy as possible, called out—“Hi, you rascals! what do you want
here?” He had evidently been wakened out of a nap by the whirr of the
bicycles, for he wore a big red nightcap, and had got only one eye open.
“We aren’t rascals,” said Jaques; “if you say that, we’ll tell papa.”
“Oh,” said Norval, “are you the fellow that came down too soon?”
[Illustration]
[Sidenote: NEARLY MOON-STRUCK.]
Ranulf broke in—“I think you’ve got up too soon this morning. By the bye,
did you ever find the way to Norwich?”
The Man in the Moon got quite red with rage at this, opened his other
eye, and aimed a blow at Ranulf with a big stick.
“Ha!” said Jaques, “that’s one of the sticks you gathered on Sunday, you
villain!”
As his arm made the blow, it came nearer the boys; and the stick, which
had looked only like a porridge-stick, got as big as Nelson’s Monument.
Ranulf would have been knocked to pieces, but the little man at the
back of the bicycle gave a sudden dart to one side; the Man in the Moon
overbalanced himself, and if his wife had not caught him by the legs he
would have tumbled off the moon altogether. In struggling to get on again
his red nightcap fell off, and a breeze of wind carrying it away, left it
sticking on one of the moon’s horns.
They were now getting so near the moon that they began to wonder how they
were to pass it.
[Sidenote: KEEP YOUR SEATS.]
“Jump over, to be sure,” said Jaques.
“Oh, that would be a tremendous jump!” replied Ranulf.
“Not at all,” said Norval; “you know the cow jumped over the moon, so it
can’t be very difficult after all.”
The bicycles began to move a little slower, and the boys thought they
were going to stop, but it turned out that the little men were only
gathering themselves together, like good hunters, for the spring; for in
a moment they gave a whistle, as a train does when it goes into a tunnel,
and the bicycles bounding up, went right over the top of the moon, the
boys keeping their seats in a way that it would be well if some Members
of Parliament could imitate.
[Sidenote: ECHO ANSWERS.]
As they passed, the Man in the Moon, who had come up after his nightcap,
shouted, “Don’t you come here again!” and picked up a stone as big
as four hayricks to throw after them. But before he could do so, his
wife, who had come behind him, and who had a nose as big as a ship’s
long-boat, eyes like paddle-boxes, and a mouth like the entrance of a
harbour, seized him by the arm, boxed his ears, and said in a voice loud
enough to be heard hundreds of miles off—
“Would you hurt the dear little things, you old villain?”
“Old villain! ’ld villain! villain! ’illain! ’lain! ’lan! ln!” cried the
echoes in the stars.
The Man in the Moon dropped the big stone on his own toes, and muttering,
“Petticoat government again!” pulled his nightcap over his ears, shrugged
his shoulders, and went home meekly to breakfast.
“I wonder if we’re going the same way the cow went!” said Ranulf; “if we
are, perhaps we may get a drink of milk—I’m so thirsty.”
“And a beefsteak,” said Jaques; “for I’m hungry.”
“Faugh!” said Norval; “what would papa say if he heard of our eating
cow-beef in Fairyland? and as for milk, if she runs as fast as we do, she
must be run dry long ago.”
[Sidenote: MIST-ERIE.]
The pace was now greater than ever, so that the stars flew past them like
sparks from a smith’s anvil. They had been going through darkness for
some time, when they perceived a dim light in front; and soon they saw
that it was a grey cloud, into which the bicycles plunged, moving more
slowly, till they came to a walk. While they were in the cloud, the boys
felt that they had come to ground; and in a minute or two they passed
through it, and found themselves in a very bleak, cold-looking place—no
grass, no trees, no flowers, nothing but stones and sand, and an old
woman walking in front of them, thick fog enveloping all round. Ranulf
was almost going to cry, it looked so dreary; but Norval told him to
remember that papa often said, “Whatever happens, don’t cry, but be brave
boys; things are always made worse by crying.” So he gave three big gulps
and was all right. But they began to think in themselves that if they had
known Fairyland was like this, they would have preferred to stay at home.
They had little time to reflect, however, for the old woman tripped her
foot against a stone and fell down on her nose, which was very long. The
boys jumped at once to the ground, forgetting all about Fairyland, and
rushed to the old woman to help her up.
[Sidenote: BEAK ON ROCK.]
[Illustration]
“Poor granny!” said Jaques, “are you very much hurt?”
“Verily muchly,” said she, in a squeaky voice, that sounded like the
noise which a piece of paper stuck over a comb makes.
[Sidenote: A PICK-ME-UP.]
It was so funny that they all felt inclined to have a laugh; but they
kept it down, and helped the old lady up. Her nose was so long that
their handkerchiefs were too small to tie it up, so they fastened them
together and bandaged it as well as they could. They were going back to
the bicycles, when she said—
“Don’t go away, dears.”
Norval said, “We wanted to get on to the nice part of Fairyland, but if
you would like us to stay till you feel better, we will.”
“Yes, of course we will,” said Jaques; “won’t we, Ranny?” And Ranulf gave
a big nod.
[Sidenote: TRANSFORMATION.]
[Sidenote: FAIRY-EST OF ALL.]
Then the old lady, patting Ranulf on the head, replied, “You want to get
to the nice part of Fairyland? So you shall, for those who are kind
are sure to get what is nice and pleasant at the proper time.” While
speaking, she seemed to get enveloped in a kind of mist, through which
the boys could only trace her figure dimly. To their great surprise,
the fog that was all round and above them began to weave into lines;
and these plaited themselves together quickly, till they formed a vast
trellised dome. Then light began to break through, and the dark bars
became transparent gold. Lovely plants rose from the top of the dome,
twining themselves in and out all the way down. Each had hundreds of
buds, which, as they reached the ground, burst into leaves and flowers
in dense profusion—here a thread of blue, here of red, here of white,
which, mingling with the golden trellis, produced a charming effect. The
ground, which had been rough and stony, smoothed itself into stripes of
silver sand. The stones became precious ones of all colours, and ranged
themselves along the stripes of silver, making beautiful, shining walks.
In the plots between the walks, the most lovely grass appeared, soft
and delicate, like velvet; and from each there rose a crystal fountain,
playing waters of different bright colours; while all around richly laden
fruit-trees sprang up, with many splendid-coloured birds on the branches,
which began to fly in all directions, whistling and singing most sweetly.
All this time the mist remained round the old woman, only turning to a
beautiful rose colour. When the fountains and trees were rising, the boys
gazed in wonder and delight. Ranulf proposed to pluck some fruit and eat
it, but Norval said they must not do that without leave. Presently the
rose-coloured mist began to get thin, and, clearing away, they saw a
beautiful form appearing—a regular real fairy, standing perfectly still
in the middle of the canopy, shining so bright that though everything
else was beautiful, she was the loveliest of all, as she stood in the
midst of a bouquet of flowers formed of glittering jewels. For there
was a bright shining in her face that outshone all else—a something
so beaming, so winning, so unlike anything to be seen in the world of
every day, that you must just try to think of what cannot be thought of,
before you will get any idea of it. Her robe was dazzling white, and the
swan-like neck and rounded arms vied in delicate beauty with the strings
of gorgeous pearls that formed the only sleeves of her shining dress. The
slender waist was circled by a band of glittering precious stones, and
her skirt, falling to the knee, was one blaze of silver light, the fringe
at the edge sparkling with brilliants. A tiara of diamonds crowned her
head, and lovely golden hair hung below her waist.
[Sidenote: MANNERS.]
Jaques’ mouth and eyes opened wide, and Ranulf showed two large dimples
in his cheeks as these wonders came to view. Norval was the first to
remember what he was about, and said, “Come along, boys; we must go and
shake hands, you know, and say, How do you do?” So they all went forward.
As they came near, a lovely smile broke over the fairy’s face, and she
held out her hand, saying, “I am so glad to see you, dear boys; and
still more to see that you know how to behave like little gentlemen.” Her
voice was clear as a silver bell, and her hand very curious to touch, but
so nice. She went on, as she stooped down and smoothed Ranulf’s hair,
“You will see every day the advantage of being good and brave. Do you
know what would have happened if you had not helped me, when I was the
old woman?”
[Sidenote: BELLE FROM BELDAM.]
“Oh, but you couldn’t be the old woman,” said Ranulf, looking up
admiringly in her face.
“Indeed I was, dear,” said she; “I just wanted to see whether you were
unselfish, kind boys, so made myself very ugly and ridiculous. But do you
know what would have happened if you had not picked me up?”
“No-o-o-o,” said they all, shaking their heads.
“My servants would have whirled you back faster than you came, and
dropped you on the rug again.”
“What servants do you mean, please?” said Jaques; “we didn’t see any.”
[Sidenote: LIKE A BIRD.]
“I will show you,” said the fairy, giving a light bound to the ground,
and walking across towards the bicycles, which were modestly standing at
one side of the bower. She had shoes of transparent glass, with buckles
of lovely sapphire; but what astonished the boys most was, that the glass
was not stiff, but obeyed the movement of her beautiful feet, so that her
motion was splendid, the foot curving gracefully down as she stepped,
reminding the boys of one of the large stately-moving birds they had
seen at the Zoological Gardens. They gazed at her in amazement, as she
smoothly glided; and she, observing their surprise, said, smiling—
“So you admire my shoes. I get them from the same man who supplied my
sister fairy with those she gave to Cinderella. He’s the very best maker
in Fairyland.”
[Sidenote: A PAGE OF PAGES.]
As she came near the bicycles, the little men made their bow as they had
done to the boys, and then raising themselves off the ground, whisked
round two or three times in the air, as if in great delight. The fairy
tapped each of them with her wand, and at once they became handsome
pages, older and bigger than Norval, dressed in dark-blue doublets and
velvet caps, with pretty ruffs round their necks that looked transparent
like glass; and, with their light-blue tights and silver shoes, they were
very smart. Each stood leaning on the great gold wheel, which was all
that remained of the bicycles.
“Oh,” said Jaques, “we didn’t know they were real; we half thought they
were only funny machines like men,”—and turning to the other boys, added,
“Must not we say ‘Thank you’ to them for all their trouble?”
“Of course,” said Norval; and each went up to his own page, and said,
“Thank you very much.”
“That’s right,” said the fairy; and the pages smiled and made a bow—just
an ordinary bow, not whirling round as they had done before, for, of
course, pages cannot turn over of themselves.
[Sidenote: DINNER IS SERVED.]
“And now you must be hungry, dears, after your long journey,” said the
fairy, giving a graceful wave of her hand towards the three pages. In
an instant they were down on one knee with the golden wheels supported
on their heads, like three lovely Dresden-china art tables, while their
caps, which they tossed on the ground, grew and shaped themselves into
silver stools. And how it came about the boys never could make out, but
there was a neat little dinner laid out on the top of each wheel; and
still more curious, each boy had his own favourite dish, only nicer to
look at and better to taste than they had ever had it before. While
they feasted, low strains of music sounded sweetly through the air, and
a chorus of many voices, clear as the crystal brook, but gentle as its
murmur, sang[1]—
[Sidenote: GOOD ADVICE.]
1.
“Boys of earth, be brave, be true,
Linger not at vice’s call;
Cords of love are drawing you,
Chains that guide but not enthral.
Break them not, their fragile lines
Draw with strength the willing heart
To the life that ever shines;
Angels weep to see them part.
2.
Let the cords of love entwine
Round the heart-strings day by day;
Let the threads of silver shine,
Guiding by the narrow way.
Watch, lest thorns of pleasure’s bower
Tangle in their tender strands;
Guard, lest Mammon’s subtle power,
Fray and loose their gentle bands.
3.
Worldling’s life is love’s decay,
Pleasure’s slave hath joyless end;
Squander not life’s fleeting day
In the paths that downward tend.
Follow truth and yield to love,
Bravely keep the narrow way;
Truth shall greet you from above,
Love shall bring to endless day.
4.
Truth and love endure for aye,
Silver love in truth shall hide,
Golden truth for love doth stay—
Truth the bridegroom, love the bride;
Sun’s strong beam to moon’s soft ray,
Truth and mercy met in one,
Blend in everlasting day,
And again the work is done.”
When the boys had dined, which they did with exceptional ease, as their
knives and forks did not require to be handled, but performed their work
neatly and deftly of themselves; and when the table-napkins had unfolded
themselves, and touched their lips with deliciously scented water, the
last strains of the song died away; and the fairy, who had herself sung
the final verse in tones most winning, so that the boys had crept close
to her, nestling under the caress of her arms, stooped down and kissed
them tenderly.
[Sidenote: WHERE NEXT?]
“And now,” said she, “I know you want some fun, and quite right too.
Those who go steadily in the right road are well entitled to a little
diversion, and can enjoy it better than the boys who choose crooked
paths. Now, where would you like to go?”
[Sidenote: WONDERFUL BLUNDER.]
“Oh,” said Norval, “we have a pass from Alice to let us into Wonderland.”
“Ah! Alice; I have heard of her, or rather I’ve heard her. She was the
little girl that grew so big, was she not?”
“Yes.”
“Well, when she got big, her voice got big too, and it was heard all over
Fairyland.”
“But are there more places than one in your country?” asked Norval.
“Oh yes, dear, of course there are; we have Elfland, and Bogieland, and
Spriteland, and Wonderland, and Blunderland, and many others. But let me
see your pass.”
Norval produced it from his pocket.
“Why,” said the fairy, “this is not for Wonderland; it’s for Blunderland.”
And so it was, beyond all doubt, as may be seen by looking at this copy,
faithfully and literally taken from the original writing:—
[Sidenote: A PRETTY PASS.]
[Illustration:
Addmit the b.
arers to
Blunderland
_Alice_]
“Oh, how stupid!” said Norval. “When I was writing it I said to myself,
I will try not to make any blunder in spelling; and I must have written
Blunder from thinking of it. What are we to do?”
“Never mind,” said the fairy; “there is plenty of good fun to be got in
Blunderland, and you may just as well go there as anywhere else. So now
good-bye, and I hope you will enjoy yourselves.”
[Sidenote: PLACE AUX DAMES.]
[Illustration]
Once more the lovely hand was waved—this time the arm in its graceful
curve taking in every part of the palace of gold and flowers—when
instantly a thousand fairies stood in one vast circle around, and
gracefully bent low before their queen. Then with a bound each took her
place opposite one of the trellises of the bower, standing with the right
foot pointed, and waited for the signal to begin the dance.
[Sidenote: BELLES AND BELLS.]
[Sidenote: STARRING IT.]
The queen, with many a graceful turn, circled round the glittering ring
of dazzling fairy brightness, waving one hand outwards to this fairy and
the other inwards to that; and though there were a thousand of them,
and she thus, in soft floating dance, went round all, yet it seemed to
be done almost in the time that the eye could follow her; then with a
bound she once more stood in the centre of the great bouquet, and having
slowly drooped in a deep long curtsey, acknowledging the reverence of her
subjects, sprang to her full height on tiptoe, and threw her hand above
her head, holding a rose that she had worn at her breast, which burst
out into the form of a star, scintillating with light of most dazzling
brilliancy. This was the signal,—and in a moment, ching, ching, ching,
ringa, ringa, ring, went the million little silver bells upon the skirts
of the fairies, as they floated in graceful measure hand in hand. Then
each laying hold on one of the supports of the dome, they raised it up,
and danced round, carrying the canopy with all its myriads of flowers
with them, faster and ever faster, till the eye could scarce follow the
ever-shifting shades of dazzling colour,—the light from the queen’s hand,
varying ever and anon, changing the whole scene from dazzling brightness
to crimson glow, from green gold of sunset to soft purple of fading
twilight.
The boys stood gazing in mute wonder and delight at the graceful motion
of the queen and her fairies, having never seen any dancing but at a ball
at home, where people rushed about, elbows meeting ribs, and strips of
tulle and tarlatan torn and scattered about; or at a spectacle, where a
pantomime fairy seemed trying to jerk off her shoes.
[Sidenote: GOOD-BYE.]
Presently the rapid thrilling ching-a-ring of the bells—through whose
chiming a melody not to be described, but wonderful in its sweetness,
caught the ear—became slower, the fairies to whom the queen had waved her
hand outwards turned round, facing those to whom she had waved inwards;
and out and in they glided, ever faster and faster, the trellis-work of
the canopy unplaiting as they went, till the last crossing being undone,
the fairies ranged themselves on opposite sides, the bars making one
long, brilliant, golden-arched bower, the end of which seemed small in
the far distance. Then the queen, with a merry smile that had something
half-roguish in it, kissed her hand once more to the boys, saying—
“REMEMBER!
BRAVE AND TRUE;”
and before they had time to think what was going to happen, the bouquet
shaped itself into a magnificent chariot, the three golden wheels set
themselves one in front and one at each side, the pages sprang up behind,
and gliding like a flash down the golden bower, the chariot was lost to
view.
[Sidenote: A SIGNAL SURPRISE.]