The Wigs all imagine they suffer from headache: The Rats
come to the Healer to be cured of the ravages of hot Soy:
The Chief Contractor has to make himself ill eating the
musical instruments.
Directly he heard the word "problem" the Chief Contractor put on the
mask of the "Mathematician."
"It is indeed atrocious, this problem that confronts us," continued the
Healer, "and who can there be amongst us who is not full of distress
when he considers that in the whole of our country there is no one who
can tell us whether we should begin by making the plans or the
buildings. I trust for the sake of your honour that you all have a
headache," and so saying the Healer walked towards the pair of donkeys.
"I, too, hope so," said the Chief Contractor, hastily slipping on the
mask called "Migraine."
[Illustration: MATHEMATICIAN]
"I, too, hope so," said his wife, who had just come in.
You, gentle reader, will find on another page a portrait of this lady,
who was extremely vain and dressed very extravagantly.
[Illustration: MIGRAINE]
She bore a great resemblance to a butterfly.
"We all hope so," said every one in the kitchen, and the crowd in the
square took up the remark, so that all over the town the Wigs were
sighing and placing their right hands upon their foreheads.
Soon they felt so bad that they all wetted their handkerchiefs in the
fountain of rose-water and wrapped them round their heads.
There was a great silence....
"I hope so, too," piped the Crow, a little late because he had only just
succeeded in putting on his spectacles.
* * * * *
The Stork re-entered, pushing the Mother of the Crow in her
oyster-shell, and followed by the Healer. At once the Stork began to
pull out all the fish-bones which during his absence ill-natured persons
had stuck in the back of the Despoiler.
[Illustration: WRAPPED THEIR HANDKERCHIEFS ROUND THEIR HEADS]
[Illustration: "I, TOO, HOPE SO," SAID HIS WIFE, WHO HAD JUST COME IN]
But all thought of the grave problem to be discussed was forgotten, for
at this moment there entered many more victims of the travelling prison.
(Smaly, who up to now had not been so _very, very_ astonished at
anything he had seen or heard since he had passed through the chocolate
door, really was a little surprised when he saw these victims.)
The chief sufferers seemed to have been the Rats, whose business it was
to keep the sugar-cane forest well watered. Nearly all had one leg which
was much longer than the other, or a very long arm, or an elongated
nose, or a tail that went on for ever.
"They must have been walking upon hot Soy," whispered a Wig to Smaly.
This Wig was a Dwarf with a very large head, and he carried a
watering-can, out of which he perpetually drank a few drops.
Smaly and Redy, their eyes round with curiosity, questioned him eagerly.
"The Prisoner wanted to cripple us all for the rest of our days," said
the Dwarf, drinking a little more water, for he suffered from a
continual thirst.
"If you know what a match is," observed the Crow, settling his
spectacles, "you will very soon understand what has happened."
"Yes," continued the Dwarf, looking anxiously into the bottom of his
watering-can. "When the prison had crossed the square the Architect made
an attempt to save the plans."
"By the Architect he means the Confectioner," whispered Redy to Smaly.
[Illustration: NEARLY ALL HAD ONE LEG WHICH WAS MUCH LONGER THAN THE
OTHER, OR A VERY LONG ARM]
"He rushed after the Prisoner, crying out to him to stop; but the
Prisoner only looked at him with his big eyes and, ceasing for a second
to break the sugar-canes, seized hold of a little wax vesta. He stared
at the Architect with eyes full of hate, and cried, 'I think no more of
you than I do of this match.'"
[Illustration: HIS ELONGATED TAIL WAS TIED TO THE QUEUE OF HIS WIG]
"No, no," interrupted one of the Rats, "that's not how it happened at
all." He carried one long leg on a crutch, and his elongated tail was
tied to the queue of his wig. "That's not how it happened at all," he
repeated.
"Do you mean to tell me he did not show the match?" asked the Dwarf.
"Certainly not," replied the Rat.
Smaly asked the Rat what the Prisoner had really done.
The Rat, with fear in his eyes at the mere memory, made answer:
"He struck his match on a little box so that it sprang into flame, and
offered it to the Architect through the sugar-canes. The Architect, of
course, ran away, and in running he broke his leg."
[Illustration: "BUT ONLY LOOK AT OUR ARMS AND LEGS"]
"Ah! I'd forgotten that detail," said the Dwarf.
"A detail!" cried several of the Rats. "A detail! But only look at our
arms and legs."
"The Architect knew quite well," explained the first Rat, "that if the
match fell on the liquid Soy it would become hot immediately and
everything would start to grow--and only look at our legs and arms!"
Smaly began to understand why it was that the Confectioner walked about
on high pattens, and why the Rats wore boots. He saw that though all
these people owed their pleasant life to Soy because it made everything
grow without any trouble, yet they feared it, feared it even more than
they feared the flies which used to come when they were asleep and eat
the sugar of which their faces and hands were composed.
[Illustration: EVEN MORE THAN THEY FEARED THE FLIES]
* * * * *
The Dwarf had pulled on a pair of boots without any soles, and placed a
large pot of flowers on his head, and he now began to imitate the Rats
watering the ground, affecting an extreme fear of wetting his feet, for
it was because their boots had melted in the hot Soy that the Rats' paws
had grown so long.
This imitation on the part of the Dwarf was interrupted by the sound of
trumpets, for the Rats and the Wigs had already begun to recover from
their emotion under the care of the Healer, and seizing hold of little
trumpets of chocolate and sugar they had begun to blow upon them.
[Illustration: REWARDS]
Some seized drums and violins and even bag-pipes, and it was impossible
to say whether any one was speaking or not, the noise was so loud.
"Take away the mouthpieces and the violin strings," commanded the Chief
Contractor.
"There aren't any," cried the Rats and the Wigs, hastily eating them
all.
Then they continued to play their instruments; but these no longer made
any noise.
* * * * *
The Healer was by now attending to the last of the victims. He had
poured cordial into their mouths from the page's funnel, and they had
all become absolutely drunk. Then he peeled off from their legs the
strips of leather which had remained stuck to them, and cooled their
little paws with pistachio-nut ice. When he had finished he took out
from the sack labelled "Rewards" a little trumpet, a punchinello, a
drum, and a paper windmill, and handed them round.
[Illustration: THE DWARF HAD PULLED ON A PAIR OF BOOTS]
The Chief Contractor, however, refused to allow the noise to begin
again, and placing over his face a mask called "Calming Influences," he
followed the Healer, and every time when the latter gave as a reward an
instrument of music, the Chief Contractor ate it himself.
That night the Chief Contractor had a bad attack of indigestion, and it
was the poor Confectioner, with his mended leg, who had to make the
distribution of provisions.
[Illustration]