Highness,” whispered she. “Have you forgotten no one must mention that
last word in this domain? Teeth are never spoken of here—_teeth_ is a
banished word! And all because of that wicked villain——”
[Illustration]
“Ha, ha,” broke in the princess gayly, “lots of good things are banished
from this land—and lots of good heroes, too! But they always come
sailing home again at the end of a hero’s task.... And as for that
villain, he’ll soon be one no longer, mark my words.”
And mark her words they did, although they did not understand one of
them. Yet, inasmuch as she was a Princess Royal, they dared not argue
with her.
After this came breakfast in the great gilded dining hall, in her chair
at the side of the throne, where Princess Clem must peel her father’s
orange and break his egg and—oh, do everything a daughter ought to do,
no matter whether she be a king’s or a beggar’s child. But this morning
she did it all with such a strangely happy smile—and all in such a
furious, giggling hurry....
“Bless my soul,” declared His Majesty, tilting one eyebrow up to meet
his crown, “it would almost seem as if my little daughter had found a
sweetheart, eh? Her smile is so bright—why, I’ll wager my crown she’s in
love! Ho! I shall have to look into this.”
But he did not have to! For, before he had swallowed another mouthful,
he knew the whole story!
------------------------------------------------------------------------
XXVIII
HOW PETERKIN TRICKED THEM ALL
[Illustration]
AYE, he knew the whole story, did His Majesty. For enter at that very
moment a dusty, breathless messenger—a sailor from the wharves which
fronted on the harbor.
“A ship—a strange ship is in the port, Your Majesty!” he cried, as he
knelt at the side of the table. “A ship more strange than any we have
ever seen. A ship entirely round, with neither prow nor stern nor sails
nor flag—a ship of golden brown, and the very shape and color of a huge
garden pumpkin!”
Then the King remembered the famous story which Peterkin had told him
weeks ago and he knew who had dared to come back to his city in spite of
the order of exile.
“What?” bellowed His Majesty, his face growing purple with rage. “This
bold adventurer, this scalawag Peterkin, back in our midst? Come sailing
back in that pumpkin boat of his, eh? Well, he shall suffer for it, I
promise you. He shall be caught and clapped back into the dungeon cell
from which he so mysteriously escaped.”
At that, the little princess, at his side, blushed a very rosy blush and
hung her head, so that they could not see her tears.
“I swore death to this fellow, if ever he came again into my power,”
hissed the King. “And death it shall be! Ho, my trusty guards! Arm
yourselves with ropes and heavy chains and run to the harbor, in search
of the lost prisoner. We shall have to give him a taste of death, death,
death!”
Whereupon all the soldiers, all the courtiers, all the nobles of the
land, armed themselves, clattering, growling, thundering. And down to
the wharves of the harbor they swept, leaving the gilded dining room
deserted. Even the King himself left his half eaten eggs, and forgot to
clap the cover on his dish of honey—and ran off, with his crown toppling
over one ear and his royal robes dragging in the mud, all the way from
the palace door to the planks of the piers. Only the little Princess
Clem was left, in terror and in tears. She wept, poor thing—and made a
sorry mixture of her tears in a pitcher of cream.
Out from the shore, in a hundred boats, dashed the King and his cohorts.
Out and around they spun, circling the peaceful pumpkin. Then closer and
closer—and always pushing closer.
[Illustration]
“Heigh, wretch!” cried the King, who stood, straight and tall, in the
bow of the royal barge. “You are captured and you cannot escape. You are
surrounded by a thousand warriors, all armed with ropes and heavy
chains. You are a prisoner again, and death shall be your punishment!
Rush in, brave boatmen, and seize this dog of a Peterkin!”
So in sped the boats, crashing against the sides of the poor Pumperkin.
Then up with ladders—up with the men, climbing the steep, bulging sides
of Peterkin’s house. Then, one peek through the ceiling window and—what
a cry went up!
_For Peterkin was gone!_
Nothing could be found of him, no matter how hard they searched—in every
nook, behind the chairs, under the bed and everywhere. He was gone!
* * * * *
And only you and I shall know the secret of where he disappeared. For
when the dawn was breaking, Peterkin had seized his old companion by the
shoulders and had whispered into his hairy ear:
“Come, you shall have that set of teeth you crave. You shall have the
whitest teeth in all the world, if only you do as I order. But if you do
not, I shall have to punish you as all wicked villains must be punished.
So take your choice, my toothless enemy. Will you do as I desire?”
To be sure, the ugly old man could only mumble a consent through his red
gums. Whereupon Peterkin leaped upon his shoulders and cried:
“Fly first with me to the Valley of the Blind!”
And away they flew, leaving the Pumperkin just as the King and his
cohorts found it: empty and alone.
[Illustration]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
XXIX
PETERKIN BRINGS JOY
[Illustration]
I’M not sure what the old villain thought of the scheme of flying to the
Valley of the Blind—but he dared not disobey. For Peterkin’s grip was
firm upon his shoulders—and Peterkin’s breath was hot against his cheek.
So over the mountains they flew, into the tumble-down, joyless valley of
darkness—the valley where the toothless villain had stricken each
innocent one with blindness.
There, across the neglected road, at the edge of the wild grown heath,
they found the sorrowful family of those who first had told the tale of
woe to Peterkin. Their clothes were more wretched than ever; their house
was crumbling to the point of falling apart. And they wept bitterly when
they heard Peterkin’s voice again.
[Illustration]
“But cheerily ho!” laughed Peterkin. “For I have brought you another
stranger—well, not exactly a stranger, either. For, like me, he came to
visit you once before. He brought you sorrow then—but this time he is
sworn to bring you joy. When once you have eyes to see him——”
They rushed about in a close circle, surrounding the spot whence came to
them the sound of Peterkin’s voice. “Who is he? What is his name?” they
demanded in a stormy chorus.
“He is known as the toothless farmer——”
At that, the hubbub swelled to a tempest of curses and wailing. The old
villain had scarcely time to fall to his knees when the avenging blind
men, groping in the dark, clutched him, plucked at his clothes, at his
hair, at his eyes. Peterkin alone could save him from their vengeance.
He screamed aloud, as he tore them from their prey.
“He has come to give you back your eyes! From now on you will see! Aye,
see everything—the sunlight and the summer night sky, the fields, the
smiles upon your little children’s faces. Oh, do not touch him lest he
keep not to his promise!”
Therewith the blind folk fell back, waiting in a hushed and nervous
circle. “Aye, we shall not touch him,” they promised.
Then the old villain, trembling and repentant, made a hurried sign in
the air—a mystic, magic sign—and the sunlight streamed into the eyes of
all the valley folk. Everyone could see! Yes, could see each other—could
see the rags in which they were dressed, the ruins of the houses, the
wild heaths, the broken, rutted roads—and planned at once to build anew
a happy valley. Their eyes were returned—and so should their laughter.
Henceforth, the years of misery and darkness should be forgotten—and
theirs should be what, long years before, it had been: The Valley of
Bright Eyes!
[Illustration]
Thus was the first errand done—and Peterkin smiled to think of what an
easy, happy one it had been. And now they must go on, over the mountain
boundaries, from one valley to the other, bringing the same gift of
happiness and hope.
“Come,” he whispered to the toothless villain, “you and I are not
through yet. Now, don’t look cross and think of rebelling—for you are in
my power, and there is no escape for you, unless you will obey my every
order as nobly as you have this first one. Besides, think of those
brand-new teeth which you shall have as a reward!”
Even this was not enough to persuade the old man to go along peacefully;
he sulked and gnashed his red gums and tried all sorts of magic tricks,
but all in vain. For Peterkin’s life was a charmed one, now that he had
the love of a Princess Royal to guard him!
And, at last, when the old fellow saw that the people of the Valley of
Bright Eyes were glancing at him angrily, as if they meant to lose their
tempers after all, he took Peterkin upon his shoulders and flew
dutifully away with him, over the boundary mountains.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
“He jumped upon his shoulders”
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
XXX
VALLEY TO VALLEY
[Illustration]
IT was the Valley of the Deaf they came to next. And presto! by a twitch
of his lean fingers and a mumbling of strange words, the old man had
given back the hearing to each of its people.
What joy was theirs, now! For they could hear the song of the birds and
the chatter of their own glad voices and—oh, yes! the laughter of the
thousand brooks, which once had played so great a part in their sad
history. But all that was over now, and they had only smiles and thanks
for Peterkin and forgiveness for the toothless villain who had done them
so much wrong.
They were all listening to the chirp of a little sparrow’s young, high
in the nest, when Peterkin and his captive flew away. Peterkin looked
back a moment, to watch the joyous smiles upon their faces—and he, too,
was happy in their new-found happiness.
And so he and his companion came to the Valley of Dancing Legs, where
all the folk were racing hither, thither, everywhere, and all about, in
weary, dreary, jigging, jogging flocks. Uphill, downhill, over fields
and woods they went, never halting, never resting—on, on, lungs almost
bursting and legs ready to drop off with weariness.
“Halt!” cried the toothless one. And then, with a moment or two of
whispering and winking, he brought them all to a happy halt. Poor folk!
It was the first rest they had had for so many years! They fell down,
each of them, panting, groaning, utterly motionless. Ah, they would be
happy now! Already, as their legs grew rested, they seemed to be smiling
more peacefully.... Peterkin and his companion might go forward now into
the next and last valley. For all would be joy in this one from this
time forth.
So on they flew, these rescuing two, to the Valley of Up-in-the-Air. And
only a few mystic symbols and commands, when down came all those
floating, flying people, down to the ground they loved! And down came
their beds, their chairs and tables after them—and all was set to
rights!
Thus, in all the Four Kingdoms did happiness succeed grim sorrow and
smiles broke through the tears. Thus was the whole domain made joyful
through the brave work of the little stranger, Peterkin!
[Illustration]
“Where now?” cried the old villain, rubbing his sore shoulders. “I am
tired of carrying you wherever you ordered. My back is well-nigh broken
with the load of you.”
“We shall make one more flight,” said Peterkin, “and that shall be to
the window of the palace, just beneath the gilded dome. Come, away with
us—to the Royal Princess’s window.”
“But—but, oh, no!” screamed the old fellow, quaking with fear. “That
palace is in the city—don’t you understand, in the city of my bitter
enemies! And they’ll kill me if ever they catch me there.”
Peterkin laughed. “And they’ve sworn to kill me, too,” he chuckled
bravely. “But never you mind—we’re going back anyhow.”
And in spite of the old villain’s terror, Peterkin jumped upon his
shoulders and whipped him up, over the marshes and the sea, toward the
faint gray glimpse of towers and steeples in the far distance.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
XXXI
THE PATIENT PRINCESS
[Illustration]
OH, little Princess Clem! Think what a sad thing it was for her to be
left alone in the deserted dining hall, while her royal father and all
his guards rushed out to kill her brave returning hero!
She had tried so hard not to cry—but the tears _would_ come. They
flooded the table-cloth and plates and set the omelets and the jam pots
floating. It was only when her prying nurse came in to fetch her that
Her Little Royal Highness could dry her eyes.
But, all day long, she walked up and down, up and down, in the wide
Throne Room. With nervous step she marched from one gilded corner to the
other, her heart in a flutter of fear.
“But haven’t you heard?” cried the nurse. “They found his Pumperkin—but
it was empty. The poor Peterkin must have been drowned!”
That only made the princess weep the harder. Yet she never lost hope—oh,
no; she was not that sort of little lady to lose hope! And gradually she
came to realize that Peterkin must have escaped, somehow, from his boat,
and was safe upon some new adventure. But when would he return?
All day she paced the marble floors, her blue eyes lighted with a gleam
of tears. Once she stopped to look out of the window, and she saw a
great commotion at the outer gate of the court-yard. A messenger was
there, seeking admission: a ragged, dusty man, who asked with eager face
to see the King. The little princess recognized him at once: he was a
subject of the Valley of the Blind.... Only, had he recovered the sight
of his eyes? She wondered how.
And while he spoke, there came up behind him on the road another
messenger—and this one was from the Valley of the Deaf. And then another
from the Valley of the Dancing Legs. And, lastly, one from the Valley of
Up-in-the-Air. Why, here were messengers from each of the stricken Four
Kingdoms—and each of them was smiling happily!
[Illustration]
Aye, true! For a little while later, the four of them had audience with
His Majesty in this very same throne room, where the princess could hide
behind a curtain of cloth of gold, and could hear each word they said.
“We are saved!” cried he of the Valley of the Blind.
“And so are we!” cried he of the Valley of the Deaf.
“And so are we!” cried each of the others.
“Our sorrow is gone. The curse of the toothless villain has been lifted
away from our valley. We are the happiest folk in all the Four
Kingdoms!” declared he of the Valley of the Blind.
“And so are we!” declared the other three in chorus.
“But—but I don’t understand,” stammered the King, mopping his royal brow
in wonder. “All in a day, here is my whole domain changed from one of
sorrow to one of joy. Tell me, who has wrought this splendid change?”
And with one accord they answered, “Peterkin!”
His Majesty’s scepter crashed to the floor, but he took no notice of it.
He stared at them as if he thought them mad.
“What? That same little scalawag of a Peterkin who fled from our dungeon
and who escaped us so neatly but yesterday?”
’Twas then that little Princess Clem came darting out from behind her
curtain, dancing and laughing roguishly.
“The very same, my royal father! The very same Peterkin! And look!” she
cried, stopping short at the window, “here he comes now!”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
XXXII
THE VILLAIN SATISFIED
[Illustration]
NO mistake, either! For Peterkin it truly was, coming toward the palace!
Peterkin, astride the shoulders of his old companion, flying through the
clouds. At first they were only two specks, dark and tiny; then, coming
nearer, they grew larger and larger, until the courtiers, crowding at
the windows, could see the eager look in Peterkin’s bright eyes and
could catch a glimpse of the red gums of the old villain under him.
Nearer, nearer—then swooping down from the clouds and in at the window
came the two travelers, into the midst of those who thronged the golden
throne room.
The toothless villain ran and cowered in a corner, trembling with fear.
But Peterkin stood forth boldly, his head thrown back with pride.
“Here am I, Your Majesty!” he cried. “Here am I, returned whence I once
fled. You may thrust me back into that pitchy dungeon—you may kill me,
but——”
Great cheers drowned the rest of his words. One and all, the courtiers,
the nobles, the King himself, were waving jeweled hands and making a
joyous thunder of his name.
“Peterkin! Peterkin, our hero! Peterkin, our saviour! Brave, mighty,
magic Peterkin!”
He fell back and rubbed his eyes. What did it all mean? Could he be
dreaming?
No, for the King had risen from his throne now and was coming down its
golden steps straight toward him, with arms outstretched.
“You have swept the shadows from my domain!” he cried. “You have brought
laughter into faces which once were bathed in tears. You have given joy
for sorrow—and joy—aye, untold joy!—shall be your reward! Ask of me now
whatever you most wish, and I promise it shall be yours! But first of
all, we must take our proper revenge upon the villain you have so neatly
brought into our power.”
[Illustration]
“Ah, that’s just it, Your Majesty!” interrupted Peterkin. “Here’s my
dearest wish—and surely you’ll not have the heart to refuse it. I ask
for mercy for your noble cousin, the toothless farmer. Indeed, if only
you provide him with a new set of teeth, I’m sure he will make a very
loyal and faithful subject evermore.”
The King grew red in the face, at this reminder. But he had given his
word—and not even a king can go back on that!
“How now, my villainous cousin?” he roared, turning to the old fellow.
“Will you cease your wicked magic all the days of your life, if I
forgive you for the sake of generous Peterkin? And, if I do provide you
a new set of teeth, will you try very hard not to bite me?”
“Oh, yes—indeed, yes! I am so sick of soups and jellies: I am longing
for the crunch of a good beefsteak. And oh! my royal cousin, what a
feast I shall be able to eat if only you give me a brand-new set of
teeth! And I shall be so proud of them I’ll do nothing more than sit in
a corner and grin the whole day long!”
So, when the little princess had joined her prayer for forgiveness to
those of Peterkin and the rest of the courtiers, the King could do
naught but order his royal dentist to appear upon the scene. And the
dentist took very good pains to make an exact measure of the mouth of
the old fellow, who went on mumbling in a most delighted way:
“Hee, hee! New teeth! A brand-new set of teeth! Well, now I am
satisfied! No more villainy for me! the crunch of a good beefsteak. And
I shall be the happiest, most satisfied nobleman in the land!”
Which set the whole court to cheering and clapping their hands louder
than ever!
[Illustration]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
XXXIII
THE GLORIOUS ENDING
[Illustration]
“SO, now,” said the King, “you shall have your true reward.” And to make
it the more impressive, he nudged our Peterkin in the ribs with the end
of his golden scepter and winked his royal eye at the Princess Clem, who
stood nearby in blushing joy.
Straightway the courtiers gathered about their new hero, lifted him high
upon their shoulders and bore him away, out of the throne room, out of
the pillared halls, into the center of that very same market square
which flanked the sunny palace. And there they cheered him, long and
loud:
“All hail to Peterkin, Prince of the Realm! All hail to Peterkin,
beloved of a Princess Royal! All hail to Peterkin, hero of heroes and
King-to-be!”
[Illustration:
“Where was it bound? Haven’t you guessed?”
]
It was only then that modest Peterkin could guess how great were the
honors and rewards which had befallen him. For a golden coronet they
placed upon his head—and a purple robe upon his shoulders. And a golden
sword upon a jeweled belt went ’round his waist to mark, from this time
forth, that he was chief commander of all the King’s guards.
And, the very next day, at the hour of ruddy sunset, when all the
windows of the palace burned with a bright reflection, and the moon was
sailing high up, white and wan, into the clouds, there began the
celebration of the most magnificent marriage that e’er was held or will
be held in all the Four Kingdoms. And you know well enough who were the
bride and bridegroom!
The banquet which followed was so splendid an affair that for three days
thereafter the court doctor and all his chemists were kept busy at
compounding cures for indigestion. For there were twenty different soups
to taste—and each one thicker than the other. There were fish from the
sea, the river and the brook; roast peacocks, with their tails still
spread in blue and shimmering beauty; stuffed pigs with brown and
crackling skin; all sorts of jellies, jams and ices; bonbons heaped in
silver dishes, and—ah, yes, a wedding cake which towered so high that it
touched the gilded ceiling. Think what a time the princess must have had
cutting it to pieces—as all thoughtful brides do—with Peterkin’s sharp
sword!
[Illustration]
Of course, you are curious to learn how beautiful the bride appeared.
But that’s beyond my power to describe. I can only tell you that she was
more lovely than ever she had been before; and that her golden hair was
twined with precious rubies, with a rivulet of diamonds on her forehead.
Her gown was of silver white brocade; but on it were embroidered, in
fine gold, a complete set of pictures of the marvelous history of her
heroic husband. The Pumperkin, the adventure with the whale, the meeting
with the old villain, the flight from the dungeon, the rescue of each of
the four joyless valleys, ... all were depicted there. Everyone
wondered, to be sure, how such a handsome work of art could have been
made so hastily—but ah, they did not know that, in her long hours of
lonely waiting, the little Princess Clem had nearly ruined her dainty
fingers with the needle and threads of the loom. For happiness is always
born of toiling; and love grows greater for a little patient hardship.
The villainous cousin, now very peaceful, was very proud of a set of
false teeth; and munched and munched in hungry bliss upon a plate of his
favorite beefsteak. The King, at his end of the table, smiled down upon
his feasting friends in joy and perfect bliss. Here was his whole domain
reborn into happiness and hard at work and play again. Here was his only
daughter wed to the nation’s hero. And—this is what made him smile the
broadest—here was a chance to climb down from his royal throne, within a
year or two, and place his heavy crown on Peterkin’s own forehead. For,
if the truth must be told, the King was growing a little tired of
playing King and wearing velvet robes the whole day long; he longed, as
old men always do, for the comfort of his big clay pipe, his shirt
sleeves and his slippers. And here were a new King and a Queen, all
ready made, to rule his land with virtue and with wisdom.
Then, while the banquet was at its jolliest, the bride and bridegroom
stole away in a coach that was drawn by six white steeds, and clattered
down the festooned streets to the steps of the royal wharf. And there,
in the moonlit harbor, the Pumperkin lay waiting. But oh! what a
different Pumperkin! For plates of gold were on it now, and a hundred
gay flags, and a sail of blue satin. There were sailors to tend it, too,
and a great fleet of skiffs to bear it company across the sea.
There was music on the waters and the soft and tender strains played by
the royal harpists were caught up by the breezes and carried straight to
the Pumperkin. It seemed to sway gently up and down, up and down, as if
the waves kept time with the music.
Inside his snug and comfortable boat-house, Peterkin was telling his
dear little bride the many wonderful adventures that befell him from the
time they had parted in the dungeon to the happy hour of his return. And
while they were thus in sweet converse, the Pumperkin was gliding on....
Where was it bound? Haven’t you guessed? Why, for brave Peterkin’s old
home, the Pumpkin Patch! That’s where the honeymoon would be—and
then.... Then back to the Four Kingdoms, to reign for years in peace and
power and glory.
And some day, when you, too, have grown up and have wed a Princess Clem,
and have come into a kingdom of your own, you will live—as they
lived—happily ever after.