you going? What are you doing here? Why don't you answer? How did
you get here? Whom did you meet on the way? Did they tell you
anything interesting? What is your name? How old are you? Who is
your father? What is your mother like? Does she give parties? Does
she invite many people? Do you know the King? Have you been to court?
Does the Queen dress well? Do you like jam or cake best? What is your
favourite sweet? Don't you think we are very amusing?" etc., etc., etc.
These were only a few of the questions they asked Martin, but they
quite cured him of any wish to speak; and, instead of telling them
anything about himself, he just put his hands over his ears and ran as
fast as he could until he dropped down, very much out of breath, some
way further along the stream. As he sat there, delighted at having
escaped from all those impertinent voices, a curious little fish with a
bent back popped his head above the water and nodded to him.
"Good morning," said the fish. His tone was so friendly that Martin
forgot all about the warning of the pine dwarfs, and entered into
conversation with him.
"This is a strange country," said Martin.
"It's a very busy country," answered the fish. "None of us get left
alone for long; and as for me, I never get any peace at all. If I
could only get my tail into my mouth, things would be very different."
"You look as though you had been trying a good deal," observed Martin.
"I suppose that is why your back is so bent."
"Bent?" cried the fish, angrily. "Nothing of the sort! On the
contrary, it has a most elegant curve. It's not the shape I complain
about, it's the difference in the work. You see, if I could only get
my tail into my mouth I should be a Full-stop; and Full-stops have so
little to do nowadays that I should be able to retire at once. Being a
Comma is quite another matter; it's work, work, work, from year's end
to year's end. Hullo! What is it now?"
His last remark was addressed to another fish, who seemed to have
succeeded in getting his tail into his mouth, and who spoke very
huskily in consequence.
"Come along," he said to the Comma-fish; "you 've got to help me to
make a Semi-colon."
"Oh, dear, oh, dear!" replied the other. "I do wish Colons were more
used; it would at least give me a rest and use up some of you
Full-stops for a change."
Martin was just going to sympathise with the poor little overworked
Comma-fish, when the storm of voices he had left behind suddenly
managed to overtake him; and there they were once more, buzzing round
his head and shrieking in his ears, until he was almost deafened by the
noise; while dozens of invisible hands were lifting him from the ground
and carrying him along at a terrific pace.
"He has spoken, he has spoken!" the voices were shouting triumphantly,
as they bore him along. "He is ours to make conversation of!"
Then they took him into a magnificent glittering palace, made of glass
of a thousand colours; and invisible voices told him it was all his and
he should be king over it, if he would only make conversation for them.
It was the most beautiful palace a king could possibly have wished for;
and even the Prime Minister's son was dazzled by it for the moment.
There was everything in it that a boy could want; if he pulled a golden
cord, down fell a shower of chocolate creams; if he went to the
strawberry ice room, there was a wooden spade for him to dig it out
with, and a wheelbarrow in which to bring it away; if he wanted a
present, he had only to turn on the present-tap and out came whatever
he wished for. So he immediately wished for a six-bladed knife, a real
pony, and a gold watch. For all that, he was not a bit happy. The
incessant talking around him never ceased for a moment; the air seemed
packed with people whom he never saw, but who asked him innumerable
questions which he never attempted to answer. Besides this, all the
furniture talked as well. When he opened the door it made remarks
about the way he did it, which were not at all polite. If he sat on
the arm of a chair, it pointed out to him in a hurt tone that chairs
were not intended to be used in that way. When he cut his name on the
mahogany dining-table, it shouted abuse at him until he had to paint
over the letters to appease it. The windows chatted pleasantly about
the weather when the wind blew, instead of rattling; and the fires
gossiped when they were lighted, instead of crackling and smoking. He
gave up riding his pony after it had told him the history of its
childhood for the fifteenth time; and when he found that his gold watch
was always telling stories instead of telling the time he had to get
rid of that too. As for his six-bladed knife, it wearied him so much
by telling him the same thing six times over that he threw it out of
the window as far as he could. All this was excessively trying to a
boy who had never talked much in the whole of his life; and the worst
of it was that he was prevented by magic from running away; so the four
weeks came to an end, and he had not found a new toy for the Princess
Petulant.
Meanwhile, the little Princess had been waiting, and waiting, and
waiting. In all the eight years of her life she had never waited so
patiently for anything; and the affairs of the country went on quite
smoothly in consequence. When, however, the four weeks were over and
Martin did not return with her new toy, Princess Petulant grew tired of
being good, and, once more, she lay on the nursery floor and sobbed;
and, once more, there was consternation in the royal household. So the
King called another council.
"Haven't you got any more sons?" he demanded crossly of the Prime
Minister. The Prime Minister shook his head, and owned sadly that he
had only one son.
"Then why do you lose him?" said the King, still more crossly. "Does
no one know where the Prime Minister's son has gone?"
The councillors looked helplessly at one another. One thought that
Martin had gone to Fairyland; another said it was to Toyland; and a
third declared he must be with the wymps at the back of the sun. But,
as nobody knew how to get to any of these places, the suggestions of
his councillors only made the King more annoyed than before. At last,
he asked the Queen's advice; and the Queen proposed that the little
Princess should attend the council and explain why she was crying.
However, when they sent up to the royal nursery for the Princess
Petulant, there was no Princess to be seen; and the royal nurses were
rushing everywhere in great confusion, trying to find her.
"It is a most extraordinary thing," cried the King, "that we cannot
keep anybody in the place! What is the use of children who do nothing
but lose themselves? There must be wympcraft in this!"
The Queen only said "Poor children!" and set to work to have the
country searched for the missing pair, and sat down to cry by herself
until they could be found.
What had really happened was quite simple. While the Princess Petulant
was sobbing on the nursery floor, something came through the open
window and dropped with a thud just in front of her. This astonished
her so much, that she stopped crying and looked up to see what it was.
There stood a little pine dwarf, holding his hands to his ears.
"Dear, dear!" crooned the pine dwarf in his soft voice. "What are you
making such a noise for?"
"I am crying because Martin has not come back," said the Princess,
sorrowfully. "He promised to fetch me a new toy, and he has never
broken his promise before. I do wish he would come back. Even if he
does n't bring me a new toy, I wish he would come back."
"Ah," said the pine dwarf, smiling, "now I think I can help you. But
you must not cry any more; it is almost as bad as the noise they are
making in the country where Martin is imprisoned."
"Oh!" cried Princess Petulant, clapping her hands; "do you _really_
know where Martin is?"
"Come along with me and see," said the pine dwarf. The next thing the
Princess knew was that she was gliding through the air in the most
delicious manner possible; and she never stopped until she found
herself by the side of the waterfall, that stands at the edge of the
country where they make conversation.
"I cannot take you any further," said the pine dwarf; "because there is
so much noise down there that it would blow me into little pieces at
once. Follow the stream along until it brings you to a glass palace,
and there you will find Martin waiting for you. Whatever you do,
though, you must not speak a word to any one until you find him. Do
you think you can do this?"
The Princess was thoughtful for a whole minute.
"I can do it if I stop up my ears with cotton wool," she said. "I am
quite certain I should speak if I heard any one talking to me."
The pine dwarf smiled again; and a linnet, who had overheard their
conversation, kindly offered the Princess a piece of cotton wool from
the nest he was making; and she thanked him as charmingly as a Princess
should, and immediately stuffed it into her two little pink ears. Then
she kissed her hand to the good little pine dwarf, and ran away along
the stream; and she never stopped running until she reached the
magnificent, glittering glass palace; and there she saw Martin right in
the middle of it, sitting at the table with his head in his hands.
"I do believe he is crying!" thought Princess Petulant; and she very
nearly cried too at the mere thought of it, for no one had ever seen
the Prime Minister's son cry before. She picked up a stone instead,
however, and sent it right through the glass wall of the palace,--for
she was in far too great a hurry to go round to the door,--and she made
a hole large enough to slip through; and into the room she bounded,
where Martin sat thinking about her.
They kissed each other a great many times; and Martin pulled the cotton
wool out of her two little pink ears, and told her all that had
happened, and how miserable he had been because he could not keep his
promise to her, and how dreadfully tired he was of conversation.
"Even now," he added, sadly, "I don't suppose they will let me go with
you. Just listen to their stupid voices! I shall have to bear that
for the rest of my life."
"Oh, no, you won't!" buzzed the voices in the air. "You can go away as
soon as you like. It is quite hopeless to think of making you into
conversation; you are the most unconversational prisoner we have ever
captured. If the Princess had not put cotton wool in her ears we
should have caught her directly; and what splendid conversation she
would have made! Unfortunately, she is out of our power now, because
she reached you without speaking a word; so you can go off together as
soon as you like."
They did not wait to be told twice, but set off at once, hand in hand,
and walked straight on until they reached the top of the hill that
slopes down into the valley where the Wonderful Toymaker lives. Then
they ran a race down the side of the hill; and of course Martin allowed
the Princess to win, so she was the first, after all, to see the most
wonderful toyshop in the world. It was so wonderful that she actually
remained speechless with astonishment, until Martin caught her up; and
then they stood side by side and stared at it.
To begin with, it was not a toyshop at all. The whole of the valley
was strewn with toys: they lay on the ground in heaps, they were piled
high up on the rocks, they hung from the trees and made them look like
huge Christmas trees, and they covered the bushes like blossoms:
wherever the children looked, they saw toys, toys, toys. And such
toys, too! People who have never been to Fairyland can have no idea of
the toys that are made by the Wonderful Toymaker; even Martin, who was
a friend of the fairies, had never seen anything like them before. As
for the Princess Petulant--her large blue eyes were open, and her
little round mouth was open, and she could not have spoken a word to
please anybody.
Then, suddenly, into the middle of it all stepped the Wonderful
Toymaker. Any one who has lived for thousands and thousands of years
might reasonably be expected to look old, but the Wonderful Toymaker
looked young enough to play with his own toys; when he laughed, the
children felt that they should never feel unhappy again; and when he
came running towards them, turning coach-wheels on the way, they felt
certain that he was only a very little older than themselves. For that
is what happens when a man has been making toys for thousands and
thousands of years.
"My dear children, how pleased I am to see you!" he cried joyfully.
"At last, I shall have some one to play with! Come and look at my two
new tops."
He took them by the hands and raced them across the valley to his
workshop, which was strewn with gold and silver tools with handles made
of rubies; and he took up a gaily painted top and set it spinning by
blowing gently upon it three times. As it spun it began to hum a tune,
and in the tune they could hear every sound that the world
contains,--birds singing and wind whistling, children laughing and
children crying, people talking and people quarrelling, pretty sounds
and ugly sounds, one after another, until the children were spellbound
with astonishment.
"Oh, oh!" cried Princess Petulant, as the top rolled over on its side.
"I never heard anything so beautiful before."
"The top is yours, since you like it," said the Wonderful Toymaker,
handing it to her with a bow. "Now listen to my other new top."
Then he took up another one, made of burnished copper, and gave it a
twist with his fingers, and it began to spin with all its might; and as
it spun round, the song it sang was one that could never be described,
for it was full of the sounds that do not exist at all, the sounds that
are only to be heard in Fairyland when we are lucky enough to go there.
It made the Princess Petulant feel sleepy; but Martin gave a shout of
pleasure when it stopped spinning.
"I like that one much better," he said.
"It is the finest toy I have ever made," said the Wonderful Toymaker;
"and it is yours because you know how to appreciate it. Now, we will
play games!"
They had never played such games in their lives before, nor had they
ever had such a delightful playfellow. He put such feelings of joy and
happiness into their hearts that the little Princess wondered how she
could ever have felt discontented, and Martin never once wanted to stop
and dream. They played with toys that would not break, however badly
they were treated; they chased one another over the rocks and through
the bushes, without getting out of breath at all; and when they could
not think of anything else to do, they laughed and laughed and laughed
and laughed. Then they sat down on the grass to rest; and the
Wonderful Toymaker sat between them and smiled at them both.
"Now, we will refresh ourselves by eating unwholesome sweets," he said,
and he gave a long low whistle. Immediately, they were pelted from all
sides by the most delicious, unwholesome sweets that were ever made;
but, although they were ever so unwholesome, and although the children
ate quantities and quantities of them, they were not in the least bit
the worse for it; and when they had eaten all they could, the Wonderful
Toymaker filled their pockets for them, and laughed again.
"Won't you stop here always?" he asked them.
The children shook their heads.
"I must go back to mother," said the Princess Petulant. "She must be
wondering where I am, now."
"And I have got to be Prime Minister, some day," said Martin, with a
sigh.
"You will never be Prime Minister," said the Toymaker, just as his
father was always saying. "Why can't you both stay with me? Only
think of all the games we can have, and the toys we can make, and the
unwholesome sweets we can eat! Won't you really stay and play with me?"
However, when he saw that they were quite determined to go home, he
made the best of it and asked them whether they would like to go by
sea, or by sky, or by land. Martin wanted to go by sky, but when the
Princess said she would much prefer to go by land as she had come most
of the way by sky, the Prime Minister's son gave in at once and said
that he had meant to choose the land road all the time. So the
Toymaker fetched two beautiful rocking-horses and helped the children
to mount them, and said he should never forget their visit for the rest
of his life. He could not have said more than that, for of course he
has been living ever since.
So they rode out of the valley and up the hill-side, and they waved
their hands to the Wonderful Toymaker who stood looking disconsolately
after them, and they wished they could have played with him just a
little longer. They had very little time even to wish, however, for
the rocking-horses rushed over the ground at such a pace that they
could see nothing they were passing; so, after all, they would have
been none the wiser if they had come by sky as Martin had wished. Then
the townspeople came out of their houses and stared with amazement, as
they saw their King's daughter and their Prime Minister's son racing
past them on wooden horses; but they had no time, either, to make
remarks on the matter before the children were out of sight again, for
the wooden horses never stopped until they brought their riders to the
palace gates; and then they disappeared and left Martin and the
Princess Petulant knocking for admission.
Then there was a hullabaloo! The Queen dried her tears and hugged them
both, one after another; and the King dismissed the council which had
not helped him in the least; and the Prime Minister was more convinced
than ever that his son would never be Prime Minister; and the two
children span their tops before the whole court and told the story of
their adventures. And it was at once written down, word for word, by
the Royal Historian, and that is how it has got inside this book.
The two children never visited the Wonderful Toymaker again; and Martin
never became Prime Minister. One day he became King instead; and it
was all because he married the Princess Petulant the moment he was
grown up. They thoroughly enjoyed life for the rest of their days, and
so did everybody else in the kingdom, down to the Prime Minister and
the Royal Historian; and this was all because they never lost the
wonderful tops which had been given them by the Wonderful Toymaker.
[Illustration: HE CURLED HIMSELF UP IN THE SUN AND CLOSED HIS EYES]
The Professor of Practical Jokes
Years and years and years ago, in a country that has been long
forgotten, there lived a king called Grumbelo. In spite of his
extremely ugly name, which was certainly no fault of his, he was young,
handsome, and talented; and this made it all the more remarkable that
he had never thought of seeking a wife. He ruled his country so well
that not a single poor or ill-treated person was to be found in the
whole of it; and yet, it was the dullest country that has ever existed.
The reason for this was plain; the King was all very well in his way,
and to be well-governed no doubt has its advantages, but the people
were unreasonable and they wanted more than this. They wanted court
balls, and court banquets, and royal processions through the streets,
with bands playing and flags flying; they wanted more play, and more
holidays, and more fun; and all these things, as every one knows well,
are only to be had when there is a Queen at court. The King, however,
was so well satisfied with himself that it never occurred to him how
dreadfully dull his kingdom was growing; and he was exceedingly
surprised when a number of the courtiers, headed by the Royal
Comptroller of Whole Holidays and the learned Professor of Practical
Jokes,--who had been positively out of work ever since his serious
young Majesty came to the throne,--waited upon him one morning, with
the humble request that he should begin to think about finding a Queen.
"What more can you want?" asked the young King in astonishment.
"Surely a King, or at least a King such as I am, is enough for my
subjects! I am quite satisfied with myself: is it possible that the
country is not equally satisfied?"
"The country is more than satisfied with your excellent Majesty,"
explained the Comptroller of Whole Holidays. "The country has never
been so admirably governed before. It feels, however, that certain
other things are almost as important, your Majesty, as wise laws and
honest toil; such as--such as whole holidays, for instance."
"And practical jokes," murmured the learned Professor at his side.
His Majesty was silent. It seemed incredible that the country should
want anything more than the excellent government of King Grumbelo; but
he was fond of his people at heart,--in spite of the dulness to which
he had brought them, and so he consented in the end to give them a
Queen.
"Go and find me the most beautiful, the most silent, and the most
foolish Princess in the world," he said to them. "She must be the most
beautiful because I shall have to look at her, and the most silent
because I am able to talk for both of us, and the most foolish because
I can be wise for her as well as for myself. If you find me a Princess
like this I will make her my Queen."
Not long after, the King held a reception for all the beautiful
Princesses who could be collected at such a very short notice. There
were a hundred and fifty altogether; but although they were without
doubt both beautiful and foolish, they never stopped talking for an
instant, and not one of them would King Grumbelo have for his Queen.
So the Royal Comptroller of Whole Holidays and the learned Professor of
Practical Jokes put their heads together once more, and in a few days'
time they came again to the King.
"We have heard at last of the Princess who would suit you," they said
to him. "She is so beautiful that the trees stop gossiping and the
flowers stop breathing when she passes by; and she is so silent that if
it were not for the wonderful expression in her eyes it would be
impossible to hold any conversation with her at all."
"Ah," said King Grumbelo, nodding his royal head approvingly; "and is
she very foolish as well?"
"That she must be, your Majesty," said the Comptroller of Whole
Holidays, looking nervously towards the Professor of Practical Jokes,
"because, your Majesty,--well, because--"
"Because she has refused to have anything to do with your Majesty,"
boldly interrupted the Professor.
"What?" cried the King, astounded. "She does not _wish_ to be my
Queen?"
"Not exactly that, your Majesty," stammered the Comptroller of Whole
Holidays; "but she declares she could never marry any one who--who--"
"Who has so ridiculous a name as your Majesty!" said the Professor of
Practical Jokes without a moment's hesitation.
King Grumbelo stepped down from his throne and merely smiled.
"That is of no consequence," he observed. "Evidently she knows nothing
about me except my unfortunate name, and that I certainly did not give
myself. Tell me at once where this wonderful Princess is to be found."
"That is exactly what we do not know, your Majesty," they confessed,
reluctantly. "As soon as the Princess heard that your Majesty wished
to make her a Queen she fled from the country, and we have not been
able to discover where she has hidden herself!"
"No matter," said King Grumbelo, actually omitting to scold them for
their stupidity; "it is never difficult to find the most beautiful
Princess in the world! Bring me my horse at once; you can make ready
for the royal wedding as soon as you please."
The country was very badly governed while the King was away; but it was
certainly not dull. Every person in the kingdom was occupied in making
preparations for the royal wedding, and it was going to be such a
particularly grand royal wedding that the people were kept thoroughly
amused by looking forward to it alone. When, however, the last touch
had been put to the preparations, and there was positively nothing left
for any one to do, the people began to grumble. It was clear that
there could not be a marriage if nobody was there to be married, and no
tidings had been received of King Grumbelo since he rode away to fetch
his bride. There is no doubt that the discontent of the people would
have ended in a revolution if the Professor of Practical Jokes had not
hit upon a happy idea. "It is true that we cannot have a royal
wedding," said the Professor of Practical Jokes; "but we can pretend to
have one."