23
Next morning Baby woke up very happy, because she was at home.
And she lay and listened to the day getting up, which was rather a
favourite thing of Baby's.
And first the Policeman tramped by in boots.
Then a cock at the farm crew a lot to say it was dawn, when it wasn't.
And after that just as the dark began to grow dim, a thrush in the
lilac under the window cleared its throat, and began to shout,
"I'm first! I'm first! I'm first!"
And that woke a robin in the yew-hedge which piped,
"Cheek! Cheek! Cheek!" and began to laugh in its little way.
Then a rook sailed out to work, groaning,
"Aw! aw! aw!" which is rook for "Oh! oh! oh!" which is short for "Oh
dear! oh dear! oh dear!" for the rook hates work and loves grumbling.
And after that the sparrows began. And as soon as the sparrows began,
the others left off: for they knew it was no good to go on against the
sparrows; for the sparrows go on for ever.
Then Baby got up, and went to the window.
And the sun was just up and staring white through the black of the
trees: for it was about Christmas by now.
And the sky shone like a sword. And great white ice-bergs with shining
tops sailed by behind the Mountain on the border of That Country. And
old Methuselah, his ears hoary with frost, was trying for some more
sleep under the thorn.
And on the eave above the window a starling, all purple and green and
gold in the sun, was dressing. And as he dressed he was making all the
noises no other bird can make. For the starling is like a lot more, he
never knows quite what he's going to say himself till he's said it,
only he knows it's never been said before, and never will be again.
Then the sun rose over the wall of the back-yard, and struck the top of
the boot-hole. And at once mannikin inside began to sing very merrily,
"I hop in the boot-hole,
As happy can be,
As bold as a robin,
As brisk as the sea,
I chirp like a cricket,
I buzz as a bee
A-swing in the fox-glove,
A-blow on the lea."
And when Baby heard that she ran and shook Tiny, who was lying in bed
with one eye out, and the blanket tight round, and she cried.
"Get up, Lazy-bones! get up! get up!--Everybody's up and busy and merry
long ago only you."
And she began to dance about with her hair down, singing,
"O, I say!--Shan't we just be happy here? happy here? happy here?"
But Tiny only groaned, and got up, one leg at a time.
And the first thing he did was to go to the window, and spy out at the
Castle round the corner, with the frost on the roof.
And the first thing he saw was the Commander-in-Chief stealing out of
the back-door in his bedroom slippers.
[Illustration: STEALING OUT IN HIS SLIPPERS]
24
And when Tiny saw that, he shivered, and came in, and didn't have much
bath, for Baby had gone down; but took off his clothes, and put on his
redcoat instead.
And soon he forgot all about the Commander-in-Chief, and stood before
the glass a long long time, and simplee loved it.
Then he dragged himself away, and went downstairs, and did the lamp and
the knife, which was always his little job.
And when he had finished that, he walked to the parlour, rather proud
because of Captain in that Army, rather cold because of sore thumb and
no real sympathy, and rather shy because of his redcoat, and Baby
inside waiting to tease.
So he came to the door.
And when Baby saw Tiny in his redcoat, very tall, and jolly little
curls all over, she thought,
"How _most_ beautiful!" Only she didn't say for fear of bad for Tiny,
because she knew about the glass, for she had peeped.
Instead she played with his medals, and tapped him under the chin, and
said,
"How _most_ booful!" which was much better for Tiny.
Then Tiny went sulky-shy and pulled away.
And when Baby saw that she left it, and went back to the window to
watch a little figure creeping across the Common towards the Cottage.
But directly her back was turned, Tiny bent and looked at himself some
more in the shiny tea-thing; and that pleased Tiny, so that he smiled.
And the more he looked the more he was pleased. And the more he was
pleased the more he smiled. And the more he smiled the more he thought
how _very_ jolly, and _what_ teeth!
Then Baby turned. And when she saw Tiny staring she went up and down
and roared, and said,
"O my dear boy!"
But Tiny turned his back on the tea-thing; and he was cross, because he
was found-out.
Then he thought of a little lie, and cheered up, and told it; and it
was,
"I was looking at the crest."
But Baby said,
"The crest is the other side, Tiny," which was rather depressing for
Tiny after all his trouble.
So he went crosser than ever, because he was found-out twice now.
And he took off the bit of plaister that he had allowed Baby to put on
his thumb last night, and threw it down, and trod on it, to show he
would be master in his own house.
But Baby teased some more and said,
"Poor Tiny then! it was a shame, it was! He shall worship himself, he
shall." And she said that because Tiny had told a little lie, and she
was teaching him. And Baby didn't often teach by tease, for she didn't
believe in it; but she did this time because Tiny had lied a little.
So Tiny nibbled his nails, because he knew that would annoy Baby; but
he said nothing, because there was nothing to say.
Then Baby went back to the window, and said inside,
"Poor old Tiny! If I was Tiny and like so," which was very tall and
little curls all over, "I know I'd be the very same only worse." Only
Baby really was much nicer herself; only she didn't think so much about
it, because of a girl and too sensible; and Tiny thought about nothing
much else, because of a man and so silly. But Baby taught him so that
he began to have time to think little bits about other things too; so
that less time went before the glass; only it was rather hard for Tiny
at first.
And when Baby remembered that, she went up to Tiny, and patted his
shoulder, and said,
"There, old boy!"
But Tiny went back at her with both elbows to show he wouldn't be good.
And it was very wrong indeed of Tiny; and he knew that quite well. And
the more he knew it the more ashamed he was. And the more ashamed he
was the more he wouldn't own up. And the more he wouldn't the more he
wanted to. So it went in a sort of circle, as it always does.
And it was like trying to climb a hill by running down it. And really
a better way is to stick in your heels, and come up jerk, and turn, and
plod.
Then Baby rang the bell to change the subject.
25
And when the bell went Phyllis collected the Others, and stood them by
the door, while she ran to get mannikin out of the boot-hole: for he
might come too if he liked.
But she found the key wasn't on the nail. So she ran to the Others in
rather a state, and asked them,
Then one of the Others fussed about in her pocket, and found it, saying,
"Well I never!--Now however did it get there?"
So Phyllis answered, pretty sharp,
"It got there because you put it there," and she ran off with the key.
But the Others stayed behind, and agreed secretly to dislike Phyllis.
[Illustration: BUT THE OTHERS AGREED TO DISLIKE PHYLLIS]
Then Phyllis came to the boot-hole, and unlocked it.
And the boot-hole was a dear little place, very dark and dewy, with
bricks for the floor, and a glass-hole at the top with wire over it, so
he couldn't get out that way.
And it was furnished all round the walls with blacking bottles, and
across the middle with a knife-board done up in red powder by the
King's command, to make it comfie for him.
Then Phyllis tried to collect mannikin; only he wouldn't be collected.
So Phyllis said,
"Why?"
But mannikin only sat on his hands on the knife-board, with his back
very round, and said,
"Becob I won't," which wasn't a bit like mannikin, for though he was so
mischievous, he was very merry too mostly always.
Then Phyllis answered quite kindly,
"Then don't, my dear. I only thought it would make a little run for
you."
But mannikin only said quite snappy,
"Goodness sake, go 'way."
So she went; locking the door behind her, to keep him good and tight.
And the real truth was that about a minute back the Commander-in-Chief
had crept into the back-yard in his slippers, and whispered mannikin
through the crack to tell him where the key was, and he would let him
out to escape. For the Commander-in-Chief knew that would get Tiny
into an awful row with the King.
So mannikin got in a fearful state, and ran up and down the door, and
told the Commander-in-Chief about the key on the nail in the kitchen,
and to get it _quick_! goodness sake _quick_!
Then the Commander-in-Chief crept to the back-door, disguised as a
milk-man, and peeped into the kitchen. And he found the nail, but no
key on it: for the key was in the pocket of one of the Others all the
time--and a good job, too.
So when the Commander-in-Chief saw he was disappointed of spiting Tiny
that way, he ran back to the crack, and spat, and swore most terribly,
while poor little mannikin cuddled away in the corner out of range.
And the Commander-in-Chief said he must report mannikin to the King for
trying to escape, because it was his duty: for the Commander-in-Chief
is head of the Policeman as well as of the Army in That Country.
And he went on about how he would never have believed it, _never_; and
how disappointed he was; and how he had hoped, and so on, etc.
And now, he said, however much it pained him, he must tell the King
that mannikin only grew worse and worse, and make His Majesty promise
to keep him tight in the boot-hole all his life for ever.
And after that he pretended to blub a bit outside the door to show how
grieved he was; and then turned away.
So poor mannikin found himself worse off instead of better, which is
often the way, if you try too much.
Only he soon got over it, and began to sing instead; for mannikin took
nothing to heart very much.
But the Commander-in-Chief shuffled away across the Common in his
bedroom slippers, very busy and bad.
26
Then Tiny grumbled some out of a book.
Only he didn't grumble it well: for he kept one eye on the book, and
one eye on the window, to see if the road was looking through the
blinds.
But nobody was, only old Methuselah, who crossed the road, a foot at a
time, and leaned his head over the gate. And when he heard what was
going on inside, he closed his eyes, and bowed his head: for Methuselah
was like a lot more, he wanted people to think he was a deal pi-er than
he really was.
Then, when that was done, and Phyllis and the Others had left the
parlour, Tiny just dumped down and gobbled porridge without a word.
So Baby sat behind the tea-thing and ate bread without butter, for she
didn't feel hungry. And when Tiny looked at her, and pretended he
hadn't, she looked back at him, quite kind and true.
And when Tiny saw that, he was so ashamed that he went worse than ever,
and gobbled till everything was all gone: so that he really had
something to grumble about now; which he did gladly.
Then Baby played music on the table behind the sugar-bowl; and she was
rather white, and rather tired; and she said.
"Very sorry, Tiny. Shall I ring for more?"
So Tiny snapped,
"Yes. No. What you like."
And when he had said that, he wanted to say sorry so bad that he
thought he would unless he left the room.
So he got up and went out quick for fear. And he put on his cap and
his cane, and went out of the front-door, and down the path joggle with
his knees to show don't-care-damb, which was quite a lie, because he
did care a lot.
Then Baby came to the door, and peeped at his back; and water stood in
Baby's eyes; and she said low,
"I'll tidy up, and have everything square by the time you get back,
Tiny."
But Tiny just joggled, and pretended don't-care-damb some more.
Then Baby peeped; and her handkerchief was at her mouth; and she said
in a wee voice,
"Back for tea, Tiny?"
So Tiny answered,
"Dunno," and joggled down the path.
Then Baby gasped,
"Hope you will, Tiny-boy!" And she shut the door and ran, because she
was taken blubby bad.
And when Tiny heard that, he could not bear it any more, for you can't
if they keep on at it; and he thought,
"You _are_ a darling! I _am_ a cad."
And he stopped, and turned, and went back to the door as though he had
his seven league boots on, to say sorry I'm a cad, which he truly was.
But the door was shut.
Then Tiny ran up and down on his feet, and cried at the key-hole,
"Lemme in! lemme in! lemme in! O Baby! I _do_ love you! Truly sorry!
lemme in!"
But it was too late then.
So Tiny stood outside the door and wished he hadn't. And that is what
Adam spent his time doing outside the Gates of Eden. And it is what
most of us spend a lot of time doing when it's too late. And it very
often isn't till you stand outside and wish you hadn't, that you know
how jolly it was inside, before you had.
Then Tiny turned away down the steps no more joggle now; and he was so
sorry he blew his nose.
And Baby heard his nose go from her room above, and she knew, and
thought,
"You dear old goose, you!" which was a very favourite thought of
Baby's, and like Baby to think it just then.
And she tipped on her toes in the middle of the room, and saw Tiny
going through the gate blowing his nose to take the water out of his
eyes. And when she saw that, she waved to him, only he couldn't see
her, and she didn't want him to, for after all she was teaching Tiny,
and he had been about as bad as a man can be, which is pretty bad.
Then Baby picked up her skirts, and did some steps before the
looking-glass.
And she looked pretty tip-top; only there was nobody to see her only
herself.
So she swung round, and stopped before the glass, and bobbed to
herself, and said,
"You're pretty jolly, Miss."
Then she remembered Tiny and the tea-thing, and she roared, and said,
"You're far worse than Tiny, my dear girl!" And she gave a twirl and a
skip and kicked her hand with her foot; and was as free and happy as a
lark because she knew she had won.
And Baby always won over Tiny, because she always won over herself.
And if you can't win over yourself, you can't expect to win over other
people.
And a woman can always win over a man, so long as the man is decently
good, and so long as she goes by the Big Rule. For the Big Rule is the
same in That Country as in all others.
And the Big Rule is,
_Love is Power._
27
Then Tiny walked across the Common.
And the road gleamed before him in the sun, so that it was like walking
on a silver river; for the frost was oozing out of the ground, though
all under the gorse-bushes was white still. And the ivy on the beeches
in the Wood at the foot of the Fort-hill shone till it dazzled, while
the beeches themselves were a cloud of purple.
And when Tiny got into the shadow of the Wood the road was hard again,
and rang to his feet; and all the little pools were feathered over with
ice; and a chaffinch sat on a bare bough, and pinked.
And all that was lovely. Only Tiny didn't see any of it: for he was so
sad inside that everything was dark to him.
But when he had gone by, the Commander-in-Chief, who had been hiding
behind a beech-trunk, came out, and stood in the road, with his hands
on his knees, and laughed _most_ horridly.
[Illustration: Book VI headpiece]