JIKKI HAS A WISH GRANTED.
Next morning Aunt Rivette summoned Jikki to her room, and said:
“Take these shoes and clean and polish them; and carry down this tray of
breakfast dishes; and send this hat to the milliner to have the feathers
curled; and return this cloak to the Princess Fluff, with my
compliments, and say I’m much obliged for the loan of it.”
Poor Jikki hardly knew how to manage so many orders. He took the shoes
in his left hand, and the tray of dishes he balanced upon the other
upraised palm. But the hat and cloak were too many for him. So Aunt
Rivette, calling him “a stupid idiot,”—probably because he had no more
hands,—set the plumed hat upon Jikki’s head and spread the cloak over
his shoulders, and ordered him to make haste away.
Jikki was glad enough to go, for the fluttering of Aunt Rivette’s wings
made him nervous; but he had to descend the stairs cautiously, for the
hat was tipped nearly over his eyes, and if he stumbled he would be sure
to spill the tray of dishes.
He reached the first landing of the broad stairs in safety, but at the
second landing the hat joggled forward so that he could see nothing at
all, and one of the shoes dropped from his hand.
“Dear me!” sighed the old man; “I wonder what I shall do now? If I pick
up the shoe I shall drop the dishes; and I can’t set down this tray
because I’m blinded by this terrible hat! Dear—dear! If I’m to be at the
beck and call of that old woman, and serve the new king at the same
time, I shall have my hands full. My hands, in fact, are full now. I
really wish I had half a dozen servants to wait on _me_!”
Jikki knew nothing at all about the magic power of the cloak that fell
from his shoulders; so his astonishment was profound when some one
seized the shoe from his left hand and some one else removed the tray
from his right hand, and still another person snatched the plumed hat
from his head.
But then he saw, bowing and smirking before him, six young men, who
looked as much alike as peas in the same pod, and all of whom wore very
neat and handsome liveries of wine-color, with silver buttons on their
coats.
Jikki blinked and stared at these people, and rubbed his eyes to make
sure he was awake.
“Who are you?” he managed to ask.
“We are your half a dozen servants, sir,” answered the young men,
speaking all together and bowing again.
Jikki gasped and raised his hands with sudden amazement as he gazed in
wonder upon the row of six smart servants.
“But—what—are you doing here?” he stammered.
“We are here to wait upon you, sir, as is our duty,” they answered
respectfully.
Jikki rubbed his left ear, as was his custom when perplexed; and then he
thought it all over. And the more he thought the more perplexed he
became.
“I don’t understand!” he finally said, in a weak voice.
[Illustration: “‘YOU WISHED FOR US, AND HERE WE ARE,’ DECLARED THE
SIX.”]
“You wished for us, and here we are,” declared the six, once more bowing
low before him.
“I know,” said Jikki. “But I’ve often wished for many other things—and
never got a single one of the wishes before!”
The young men did not attempt to explain this curious fact. They stood
in a straight row before their master, as if awaiting his orders. One
held the shoe Jikki had dropped, another its mate, still another the
plumed hat, and a fourth the tray of dishes.
“You see,” remarked Jikki, shaking his head sadly at the six, “I’m only
a servant myself.”
“You are our master, sir!” announced the young men, their voices blended
into one.
“I wish,” said Jikki, solemnly, “you were all back where you came from!”
And then he paused to see if his wish also would be fulfilled. But no;
the magic cloak conferred the fulfilment of but one wish upon its
wearer, and the half a dozen servants remained standing rigidly before
him.
Jikki arose with a sigh.
“Come downstairs to my private room,” he said, “and we’ll talk the
matter over.”
So they descended the grand stairway to the main hall of the grand
palace, Jikki going first and his servants following at a respectful
distance. Just off the hall Jikki had a pleasant room where he could sit
when not employed, and into this he led the six.
After all, he considered, it would not be a bad thing to have half a
dozen servants; they would save his old legs from many a tiresome
errand. But just as they reached the hall a new thought struck him and
he turned suddenly upon his followers:
“See here!” he exclaimed. “How much wages do you fellows expect?”
“We expect no wages at all, sir,” they answered.
“What! nothing at all!” Jikki was so startled that he scarcely had
strength remaining to stagger into his private room and sink into a
chair.
“No wages! Six servants, and no wages to pay!” he muttered. “Why, it’s
wonderful—marvelous—astounding!”
Then he thought to himself: “I’ll try ’em, and see if they’ll really
work.” And aloud he asked:
“How can I tell you apart—one from another?”
Each servant raised his right arm and pointed to a silver badge upon his
left breast; and then Jikki discovered that they were all numbered, from
“one” up to “six.”
“Ah! very good!” said Jikki. “Now, number six, take this shoe into the
boot-room, and clean and polish it.”
Number six bowed and glided from the room as swiftly and silently as if
he were obeying a command of the King of Noland.
“Number five,” continued Jikki, “take this tray to the kitchen.” Number
five obeyed instantly, and Jikki chuckled with delight.
“Number two, take this to the milliner in Royal Street, and have the
feathers curled.”
Number two bowed and departed almost before the words had left Jikki’s
mouth; and then the king’s valet regarded the remaining three in some
perplexity.
“Half a dozen servants is almost too many,” he thought. “It will keep me
busy to keep them busy. I should have wished for only one—or two at the
most.”
Just then he remembered something.
“Number four,” said he, “go after number two and tell the milliner that
the hat belongs to Madam Rivette, the king’s aunt.”
And a few moments later, when the remaining two servants, standing
upright before him, had begun to make him nervous, Jikki cried out:
“Number three, take this other shoe down to the boot-room and tell
number six to clean and polish it also.”
This left but one of the six unoccupied, and Jikki was wondering what to
do with him when a bell rang.
“That’s the king’s bell,” said Jikki.
“I am not the king’s servant; I am here only to wait upon you,” said
number one, without moving to answer the bell.
“Then I must go myself,” sighed the valet, and rushed away to obey the
king’s summons.
Scarcely had he disappeared when Tollydob, the lord high general,
entered the room and said in a gruff voice:
“Where is Jikki? Where’s that rascal Jikki?”
Number one, standing stiffly at one end of the room, made no reply.
“Answer me, you scoundrel!” roared the old general. “Where’s Jikki?”
Still number one stood silent, and this so enraged old Tollydob that he
raised his cane and aimed a furious blow at the young man. The cane
seemed to pass directly through the fellow, and it struck the wall
behind so forcibly that it split into two parts.
This amazed Tollydob. He stared a moment at the silent servant, and then
turned his back upon him and sat down in Jikki’s chair. Here his eyes
fell upon the magic cloak, which the king’s valet had thrown down.
Tollydob, attracted by the gorgeous coloring and soft texture of the
garment, picked up the cloak and threw it over his shoulders; and then
he walked to a mirror and began admiring his reflection.
While thus engaged, Jikki returned, and the valet was so startled at
seeing the lord high general that he never noticed the cloak at all.
“His Majesty has asked to see your Highness,” said Jikki; “and I was
about to go in search of you.”
“I’ll go to the king at once,” answered Tollydob, and as he walked away
Jikki suddenly noticed that he was wearing the cloak. “Oho!” thought the
valet, “he has gone off with the Princess Fluff’s pretty cloak; but when
he returns from the king’s chamber I’ll get it again and send number one
to carry it to its rightful owner.”