for not being very happy he was not very hungry, so he was not made ill
like the others. And presently as he saw that they paid no attention to
him, he decided that here was his chance to run away. So he slipped
out of the cabin and over the side of the boat, and made off into the
city as fast as he could to the police station, for he knew when the
Viceroy woke up and found his family jewels gone, there would be an
awful row. And if he showed the police where to find them the Viceroy
could not punish him for being with Sin Sum when he stole them.
When he got to the police station, however, the officer at the door
told him that Ho Hum, the Chief of Police, was taking a nap and could
not be disturbed.
"But," cried Dong, "I can show you how to catch the Second Story
Brothers who have stolen the Viceroy's family jewels, if you will come
with me."
"What!" shouted the officer, "they stole the Viceroy's jewels?"
Then he ran off and wakened Ho Hum at once.
"Waugh!" yawned the Chief of Police, "what is this I hear? The Second
Story Brothers have stolen the Viceroy's jewels and you will show us
how to catch them?"
"Yes," said Dong, "but you'd better hurry up before they find out that
I have come to tell you about it."
So Ho Hum, the Chief of Police, and a number of his officers strapped
on their roller skates and with Dong hurried off to the boat where the
Second Story Brothers were just recovering from the effects of the
stolen pies and cakes. And very pale and miserable they looked sitting
against the cabin wall when the police burst in and confronted them.
"Surrender!" shouted Ho Hum.
"Quick!" cried Dong, "take their fans from them or it will be the worse
for you."
Ho Hum, the Chief of Police, scowled. "See here, boy," he said, "are
you the Chief of Police or am I? The idea of telling me what to do!
Why, I was arresting folks before you were born."
"But," began Dong, "won't you please listen, I--"
"No," bawled the Chief of Police.
"Good for you, old sleepy head," shouted the Second Story Brothers.
Then they leaped to their feet, gave three waves of their three fans,
and pish!--Ho Hum and all of his officers disappeared.
"Now," said Sin Sum, grinning wickedly as he turned to Dong, "we'll
attend to you, my son. We'll teach you how to go off and tell the
police about us."
"Shall we fan him into nothing?" asked Sin Sum Tu and Sin Sum Wen.
"Not yet," replied Sin Sum, "not until I've laid him across my knee for
about five minutes and given him something to remember me by."
With that he made a rush for Dong, but Dong, half scared out of his
wits, dived under the table, then behind the chairs here and there like
a squirrel, and Sin Sum, who was fat and short winded, could not catch
him. Then his two brothers joined in, but they were even fatter, and
besides the pies and cakes they had just stuffed had left them in no
condition to run a race, so do what they would they could not catch
the boy. And Dong, seeing that they could not, began to grow bolder,
and presently, as Sin Sum made a violent grab at him he also made a
grab at Sin Sum and snatched his fan and his book from his sash. Then
like lightning he turned and whipped the fan open, gave three quick
sweeps with it at the robbers, and pish!--they disappeared as neatly as
the police had, and Dong was left the sole occupant of the cabin.
[Illustration: He turned and whipped the fan open]
"Gee whiz!" he exclaimed, all out of breath, but nevertheless highly
pleased with himself, "I did for them that time."
Then he opened Sin Sum's producing book, found the page where it said
"police" required four raps, and rapping the palm of his hand four
times, Ho Hum and his officers appeared once more, looking rather pale
and nervous after their strange experience.
"Well," said Dong to the Chief, "I guess you wish you had done as I
told you and taken the fans away from those robbers."
Ho Hum rolled his eyes. "Don't say a word," he replied. "I feel like
arresting myself, missing such a fine chance to capture the Second
Story Brothers. Dear me, I'm afraid I'll never catch them now."
"Oh, yes, you will," said Dong. "Just you watch."
With that he struck the palm of his right hand once with Sin Sum's fan,
and instantly at his right hand stood Sin Sum Tu, and the moment he
appeared Dong snatched his fan from him. Then he rapped his left hand
with Sin Sum's fan twice and instantly at his left side stood Sin Sum
Wen, and Dong quickly snatched his fan also.
"Now," he said to the robbers, "tell me how to produce Sin Sum or I'll
fan you both into nothing again."
So the robbers told Dong to rap his forehead once with the fan and Sin
Sum would appear. And sure enough, the moment Dong rapped his forehead,
there before him stood Sin Sum. And the next moment Ho Hum and his
officers pounced on the Second Story Brothers and tied them securely.
Then everybody set off for the Viceroy's palace, Dong carefully
carrying the stolen jewels. By the time they got there it was morning
and the Viceroy and his wife having just come down to breakfast, were
listening to the butler tell them how the front door had a hole in it
and that he guessed some one had been in the house the night before.
But not until Dong and the police and the Second Story Brothers entered
the dining room and Dong had handed over the jewels, did they know they
had been stolen.
"Suffering chopsticks!" shouted the Viceroy; "to think of my house
being robbed. Some one shall suffer for this!"
And as he said that he looked straight at the Second Story Brothers,
which made their knees knock together very much for they knew of course
he was talking about them, and they did not like the way he pronounced
the word "suffer" at all. Then having put the captured robbers in a
first class uncomfortable frame of mind, the Viceroy turned to Ho Hum,
grasped him by the hand and called him a hero.
"Stop!" interrupted the Chief of Police, "I cannot let you say that.
No one enjoys being a hero more than I, but the blood of my truthful
ancestors compels me to state that the boy who stands before you is the
only hero in this affair. If it had not been for him the whole police
force would be nowhere."
Whereupon he told the Viceroy how Dong had brought them back after the
robbers had made them disappear, and also brought the robbers back so
they could be arrested.
"Well, well," exclaimed the Viceroy, giving Dong a most admiring
glance, "if that isn't just like something you read about. If we only
had more boys like you in China, China might amount to something. Hum!
How would you like to be adopted?"
"I shouldn't mind," replied Dong.
So right then and there the Viceroy of Ki Yi adopted Dong into his
family, and told him if he minded his P's and Q's--particularly his
Q's--he might be Viceroy himself some day.
And the chances are if you visit China in the years to come you may
find that Dong _has_ become Viceroy, for you must admit that if he was
smart enough to put an end to the career of the Second Story Brothers,
he was certainly smart enough to become a Viceroy or even something
better.
THE IMAGINARY ISLAND
One morning the Emperor Fuss of Fizz sat on the front porch of his
palace rocking impatiently back and forth. Evidently he was waiting for
somebody. By and by when he had rocked so many times his rocking chair
was beginning to squeak, the royal necromancer, Wist the Wise, an aged
gentleman wearing a gorgeous gown of office, came hurrying up the royal
avenue.
"Ha!" exclaimed the Emperor, "so you've come at last, have you? It's
lucky for you that I'm a good natured monarch."
"I'm awfully sorry to have kept you waiting, your majesty," replied the
necromancer, bowing low, "but the commander-in-chief of your army had a
toothache, and I had to wish the tooth out for him and believe me, it
was some job."
"Well," said the Emperor, "you have a harder job than that before you.
My son, Prince Frip, has been reading about desert islands and insists
on having one at once to discover. So get to work, for as you know
whatever Frip wants he wants with all his might."
Alas, Wist the Wise knew it only too well. A good part of his time he
was kept busy exercising his magic arts to provide amusement for Prince
Frip, who was a very lively young person, and who got tired of a thing
almost as soon as he got it. As a consequence the wizard had often
wished he might get rid of the boy forever, for he was afraid that some
day Frip would ask for something he would be unable to give him, for
even a magician has his limits. So this time the royal necromancer was
determined to fix the Prince so he would not bother him any more.
"Did you say an island, your majesty?" he inquired of the Emperor.
"I did," replied the monarch, "and a desert island, too, with plenty of
strange and wonderful things on it to interest a boy. I want to keep
Frip busy this time."
"So do I," said the wizard, grimly. "But as you know, your majesty, the
kingdom of Fizz is far inland, and desert islands are only found in
the sea. If you want desert islands, you must go where desert islands
bloom."
"Oh, I must, must I?" retorted the Emperor, angrily. "Whom do you think
you're talking to? You have that desert island ready for Frip to play
with to-morrow morning, or I'll have you made into an Irish stew."
The royal necromancer shuddered. "Well," he said, "I'll do my best, but
whether you stew me or not, I simply cannot provide an out and out,
really true island. At the best it will only be an imaginary one. Will
that do?"
"I don't care what it is," said the monarch, "so long as the Prince can
lose himself on it for a while and not bother me."
So the next morning when Prince Frip commenced to ask when he was going
to get the desert island he had been wishing for, the Emperor was
able to tell him he would have it that very day. And when the royal
necromancer made his appearance a short time afterward, the prediction
came true. Leading the Prince out upon the palace lawn, the wizard
placed him with his face towards the east. Then Wist the Wise rolled
up the right sleeve of his gown and began whirling his arm around and
around as though he was going to throw something. After he had done
this about a hundred times he stopped all of a sudden with his finger
pointing straight ahead of him, and told the Prince to look and tell
him what he saw.
But Prince Frip did not trouble to tell the royal necromancer anything.
He just gave one joyful yell and set off toward the pebbly beach that
had appeared in front of him. A beach flooded with sunshine and with
a shimmering sea beyond--blue in some spots and green in others--and
with a most delightfully mysterious looking island showing on the
horizon. Drawn up on the beach was a jaunty little sail boat. With
a vigorous push the Prince had the boat into deep water. Into the
craft he tumbled. Puff, puff, came a stiff and salty breeze. The
sail flattened, the boat heeled over, and in a moment was cutting its
way through the dancing waves with the Prince sitting at the rudder,
smiling as he had not smiled for many a day.
But had he known what the royal necromancer had done, he would have
been frowning instead of smiling, for Wist the Wise when he told the
Emperor that he could not provide a real island, had not spoken the
truth. If he had conjured up a _real_ island only _certain_ things
could have happened on it. But on the imaginary island which he had
provided, _anything_ could happen. And when _anything_ can happen there
are bound to be some very strange adventures. And so the wizard felt
pretty sure that Frip would have a tough time before he got back again.
However, the Prince, suspecting nothing, sat in the little sail boat
as it went on and on, coming nearer and nearer to the island all the
while, until finally he cast anchor in the prettiest little cove you
ever saw, and taking off his shoes and stockings, waded ashore.
"My," he exclaimed, as he looked about, "isn't this splendid!"
To the right and left of him the beach stretched away in a glittering
curve. It looked as though it might be made of gold dust instead of
sand, and the reason it looked that way was because it _was_ made of
gold dust. Tons and tons of gold dust were there, enough to buy out the
greatest millionaire in the world. But the Prince did not know it, and
if he had known it he would not have cared, he was too busy watching
a short, squatty looking man with a dark brown complexion, driving a
stake into the beach a short distance away, on which was a sign:
+-------------+
| REAL ESTATE |
|LOTS FOR SALE|
+-------------+
When the man had made the sign secure he turned about and saw Frip.
"Hello," he cried, coming toward him, "when did you arrive?"
"Just now," said Frip. "There's my boat."
"Oh," said the man, "so you came in a boat, eh? Very
commonplace--very. _I_ came on a Christmas tree."
Now you may think it was decidedly queer for a person to say such a
thing as that, but the Prince did not, because when he was close to the
stranger he saw he was nothing more or less than a Gingerbread Man,
although unusually large for his species.
"Yes," went on the Gingerbread Man, "I came on a Christmas tree, and I
tell you it was rather exciting."
"I should think so," remarked Frip.
"Of course it was a mistake that I got overboard," said the Gingerbread
Man. "All they meant to do was to throw the Christmas tree overboard
after the celebration on the ocean liner. But I was fastened to the top
and they forgot to take me off. Well, I floated for days and days and
had about decided to try and lose my reason to keep from going insane,
when, without the slightest warning, up out of the sea, right under my
nose, popped this island."
"What do you mean 'popped this island'?" asked the Prince. "It didn't
really pop out of the ocean, did it?"
"It certainly did," replied the Gingerbread Man. "One moment I was
straining my eyes looking for an island, and the next moment there it
was."
"Then," cried Frip, excitedly, "it must have been just when the royal
necromancer created the island for me to play with."
And with that he told the Gingerbread Man how Wist the Wise had made
the island by magic at the command of the Emperor. "And," he went on,
"it was mighty lucky for you that I happened to ask my father for a
desert island, otherwise you might be floating about the sea yet."
"Yes," said the Gingerbread Man, "it certainly was and I cannot thank
you enough, for it not only saved my life, but it has given me a chance
to go into business for myself." He pointed to the real estate sign.
"It seemed a shame for all this land to go to waste so I've marked it
out into building lots, and as the different people are shipwrecked
here, as of course they will be, I'll sell them the lots. See?"
"Yes," said Frip, "I see. But suppose they won't buy the lots?"
"Then," said the Gingerbread Man, firmly, "they've got to get off the
island. Business is business. I found the place first and it belongs to
me."
"Belongs to you," cried the Prince. "Well, I guess not. Why, it was
'_made_' for me. Didn't I just tell you it was made for me?"
"Oh, yes," said the Gingerbread Man, "you told me, but that doesn't
make it so, does it? And I did get here first, you can't deny that.
And findings are keepings, you can't deny that, either. And whoever
wants to stay here has _got_ to buy a lot." And having made that
announcement, he turned on his heel and walked away, frowning like
anything.
"I suppose," said the Prince to himself, "he's mad at me now. But I
don't care if he is, the island is mine and whoever gets shipwrecked
here can stay if they want to, lots or no lots."
Then _he_ turned on _his_ heel and walked away in the opposite
direction to that taken by the Gingerbread Man.
Now as you know an island is an island--it may be a round island, or
an oblong island, or a square island--but if it is an island and you
start at a certain place on the seacoast and walk long enough, you are
bound to come back to the very place where you started. And that is
exactly what happened to Frip. After he left the Gingerbread Man he
went on walking, and walking, and walking, until after a bit he came to
a place that looked very familiar and he saw by the real estate sign
that it was the same spot he had started from, except that something
had happened to it, which was that a bonfire was burning there and that
running round and around the fire was the Gingerbread Man. And my, how
fine he did smell for the fire had warmed him enough to freshen him up.
"Hello," said Frip, sniffing hungrily, "what's the matter with you? My,
you do smell nice!"
"Oh, I do, do I?" said the Gingerbread Man, keeping on running, "then I
suppose you'll join the cannibals and help eat me."
"Cannibals!" exclaimed the Prince, "what cannibals? I don't see any
cannibals."
"Perhaps not," replied the Gingerbread Man, "but you can easily see
their footprints on the beach, can't you?"
And sure enough there were the prints of bare feet all about the
bonfire, and now that Frip had noticed them he saw to his surprise that
fresh footprints were being made all the time.
"Why--why--" he began, very much startled, "why--hey, is anybody here?"
And the minute he said that there was a blood-curdling yell and upon
his vision burst a band of coal-black savages with waving plumes on
their heads and spears in their hands.
[Illustration: Upon his vision burst a band of coal-black savages]
"Oh," he gasped, "goodness gracious!" Then turning about he started
to run away as fast as he could, but when you are surrounded by
savages it is not so easy to run away, and presently Frip found himself
running around and around the bonfire in the opposite direction to that
taken by the Gingerbread Man, each one of them pursued by a towering
cannibal. And no one knows how long they might have kept it up if at
last the Gingerbread Man had not bumped into him, cracking himself
badly and almost knocking the Prince down. And at this the cannibals
howled with glee.
"Now," said the Cannibal Chief, as he watched Frip trying to get his
breath, "perhaps you'll tell me why you ran so. Was it because we
shocked you? I was afraid we would."
"Well," said Frip, "you certainly did sort of shock me. And then--"
"I knew it," said the other. "That's the reason we make ourselves
invisible when strangers are about. We hate to shock folks. Listen."
We always try with all our might
To keep completely out of sight
When folks like you, got up in style,
Come visiting this desert isle.
For well we know that we at best
Are far from being overdressed.
And so until we get a chance
To find a way to get some pants,
And maybe too, a fancy vest
And derby hats, and all the rest,
All we can do is weave a spell
And make ourselves invis-i-ble.
"That," said the Cannibal Chief, "covers the case completely. In other
words, we're the most refined savages you ever met."
"Then," said Frip, "if you're so refined, what do you want to be
cannibals for? And why do you wish to eat that poor Gingerbread Man?
That's not very refined."
"Not very refined--I admit it," responded the Cannibal Chief, "but very
necessary, for meals come before manners. And speaking of meals, I was
thinking of asking you to join us at dinner. We'll have the Gingerbread
Man for dessert."
"Oh," cried Frip, "I couldn't think of eating the Gingerbread Man,
though I must say he smells awfully good when he's warmed up."
"That's all right," said the Cannibal Chief, "you won't have to eat the
Gingerbread Man, in fact, you won't be here to do it. We're going to
eat you first."
Now if Frip had chanced to sit down on a hornet and the hornet had got
mad about it, it would certainly have made him jump, but nothing to
what the remarks of the Cannibal Chief did. Indeed they almost froze
him stiff and his eyes fairly popped out of his head.
"Eh?" he gasped--"why--what--say--why you--you don't mean to eat--eat
_me_?"
"If you will join us at dinner--yes," said the Cannibal Chief,
politely. "But of course if you have another dinner engagement--"
"I have," put in Frip, hastily, "I have a whole lot of 'em. And--and
I'm not a bit hungry, so I simply _could not_ join you at dinner."
"Well, supper then, or breakfast," responded the Cannibal Chief.
"We'll call it whatever you want. We'll even call it a little side
snack, if you wish. You surely can't have engagements for every one of
those things."
"Yes, I have," said the Prince, desperately, edging away. "I have
engagements for everything, day and night. I haven't a second to spare.
And besides, my father, the Emperor of Fizz, is waiting for me to take
a walk and if you stop me he'll--he'll put you in prison."
"Pooh," put in the Gingerbread Man, suddenly, "his father isn't here."
"I didn't say he was," replied Frip, "but he's waiting for me at home."
"Oh, at home, eh?" said the Cannibal Chief. "Well, that's quite another
matter. Lots of things are waiting at home. No doubt a taxicab is
waiting for your father outside his palace. And I dare say there's a
woodpile in your backyard waiting for you to do some chopping. And
your mother, no doubt, is waiting for you to come back. And the hired
girl is probably waiting on the table. But here, nothing waits. So
you and your friend, the Gingerbread Man, kindly back up against that
real estate sign and let the fire grill you a little. We don't care for
_cold_ meals."
Well, you can easily imagine in what frame of mind the Prince was when
he heard that. Here was a fine ending to his adventure. When he had
asked for a desert island he had expected to have an exciting time of
it but not this sort.
"My, oh my!" he groaned. "I wish I had stayed at home and played with
my regular play-things and not asked for a desert island. This is what
comes of wanting something that isn't meant for boys."
"Yes," said the Gingerbread Man, "and this is what comes of landing on
something that isn't meant for gingerbread men. I wish now I had stayed
on that Christmas tree."
"Well," said Frip, as the cannibals pushed him back to back with the
Gingerbread Man, "I'm sorry we quarreled over those building lots."
"Don't mention it," said the Gingerbread Man, "and _I'm_ sorry you are
going to be eaten ahead of me."
Then they shook hands solemnly, and the Gingerbread Man's hand was
so soft and sticky that one of the fingers came off in Frip's clasp.
And just for a moment Frip thought of eating it, for he had had no
breakfast that morning, and then shocked that he should think of such a
thing, he tossed it away.
The next instant one of the cannibals picked it up. "Yum, yum," he
exclaimed as he took a bite. Then he passed the morsel on to another
of the band, and before the finger had gone half around, the whole
group of cannibals were simply wild over the delicious flavor of the
Gingerbread Man.
"Ow! Yow!" they shrieked. "Gibblety! Goody!"
Then with another shriek they all rushed at the poor Gingerbread Man
and tearing him away from the horror stricken Prince, commenced to
gobble him up as fast as they could. And because there was so little of
him and so many of them, each one of the cannibals fell to fighting
the other in order to get his share of the tempting meal. And long
after the last crumb of the Gingerbread Man had disappeared, they were
still fighting furiously, until, as cannibals when they start to fight
never know how to stop, they killed each other, and Frip was the only
person left alive on the beach of the desert island.
And when that happened you may be sure it did not take him long to wade
out to his boat and set sail for home, for he had had quite enough of
_that_ place.
"Hello," said the royal necromancer, feeling very much annoyed as the
Prince landed on the imaginary shore in front of his father's palace,
"how on earth did you get back so soon? You should have stayed longer.
You've missed seeing a lot of things."
"I don't care if I did," said Frip, "for what I _did_ see was quite
enough." And when he said that it seemed to him he could still hear the
whoops of the invisible cannibals as they scrambled for the crumbs of
the Gingerbread Man.
"Oh, ho," said Wist the Wise, smiling cheerily, "then you don't care
for imaginary islands, eh?"
"No," said Frip, "I don't. That is, I don't except in story books."
THE DANCING PEARL
The Dancing Pearl was the name of a beautiful lady, and she danced
every evening and Saturday afternoons in the palace of the Viceroy of
Chow Chow. That is, she did until the Hermit of Hong carried her off by
stealth one night to his cave in the mountains.