_Another Party_
He was lying on a soft mossy bank, and Alexander--yes, Alexander!--was
gently licking the tip of his nose.
"Wherever have you been?" he cried, sitting up and looking at the dear,
dear dog in surprise and delight.
"Oh, I've just been having a little snooze," wuffed Alexander, and yawned
a real doggy yawn.
George was so pleased that he got up and hugged him. After Alexander had
shaken himself, for his coat was just a little ruffled up after George's
embrace, he sat down and smiled--such a friendly smile! Only a dog can
smile like that.
"Where have I been, Alexander?" asked George.
"_You_ know, George," replied Alexander. "Why do you ask me?"
"Where's the Princess?"
"At home, where she ought to be, I suppose."
"Oh! Well, where am I, now?"
"Look around you!"
George looked, and there, standing just in front of him, was the little
house. It felt like coming home again.... Home? Ah, yes; but wasn't it
time to be returning to their _real_ home?
He got up and walked toward the house. "I wish ... I wish my fortune were
here!" he said. "I would like to go home and see Mother and Father again!"
* * * * *
Once more they heard the sweet music, but louder and louder, as if it were
coming toward them.
* * * * *
"Shall I ever find my fortune, Alexander?" said George after tea. It was
tea, not breakfast, so it must have been evening.
"There, my child; it lies right there under your very nose."
"Where?" George looked down, and then remembered. "That's what the mother
said in the dragon's story, isn't it?... Oh, dear, everything is so
puzzling! Where is Sir Tristram? Shan't I ever see him again?"
"Time for bed now!" Alexander yawned and stretched himself, and not
another word would he say.
* * * * *
It was nice to be in bed in this cosy little room. There were such jolly
patterns on the wall-paper, and they seemed to be changing all the time.
Sometimes there were trees and rivers, sometimes birds and animals,
sometimes ships and whales. Perhaps it was a dream wall-paper. Would there
be another adventure to-morrow? It would be fun to go back to the Castle
of the Thousand Towers and visit the King. Just fancy if he invited George
to stay with him! Did the Princess get back quite safely?
* * * * *
What was happening?
The room seemed to be full of a soft rosy light. The walls seemed to be
growing and spreading in all directions. The bed--why, it wasn't a bed at
all! It was a beautiful couch of soft moss, and the room had disappeared
altogether.
George was lying in the forest, in the middle of a glade surrounded by
trees of all shapes and sizes. Music was everywhere--above him, around
him, ebbing and flowing like the tide of the sea. Little voices were
whispering, laughing, singing; what were they saying? Could it be: "George
is home at last!"
Why, this wasn't home! It was ... what was it?
* * * * *
Thousands and thousands of tiny lights! They came on and on, until the
whole glade was lit up as bright as day. Still there was not a soul to
be seen! What was that? "_Wuff! Wuff!_"--and there was Alexander with--a
green bow round his neck!
"What _are_ you doing here?" cried George.
"I've come to your party, George," said Alexander, and standing on his
hind legs he made a low bow. What next, I wonder?
George stared at him in astonishment.
"Ah, here are some old friends coming!" And Alexander bounded away as if
he thought George understood what he meant. Some old friends?
A blast of trumpets, and lines of trumpeters marched two by two into the
glade. They formed into two lines, and then down the middle there came the
King and his Princess--now his Queen--wearing their royal robes and their
crowns! They looked perfectly splendid! With them was Sir Tristram in full
armour.
They walked up to George and shook hands with him. "Thank you so much for
inviting us to your party," said the Queen, with a heavenly smile. "I
haven't been to a party for ages and ages. I am so glad we are not late.
What a sweet spot you have chosen for the entertainment."
The entertainment? What did she mean, or was it one of Alexander's jokes?
A _whirr, whirr_, and there in the middle of the glade was the witch.
"Well, George!" she said, with a smile. "You look surprised to see me. You
did invite me, you know, so I'm not a rude old witch, whatever you may
think. The giant's coming too. He stopped to tell the storks a story, but
he'll arrive in time for supper."
Supper? So there was going to be a supper!
The dragon was the next guest to appear. He and the weathercock came--not
arm in arm, but--well, you know what one means by arm in arm when dragons
are walking. They were both very pleased to see George, and the dragon was
full of jokes and fun.
Last of all came Tom Tiddler, helping old Father Time along, and then
Alexander with his two friends the cats.
"Are we all here?" asked the witch. "We can't wait for the giant. He's
always late. Let's begin!"
They seated themselves in a circle round George, and all looked at him as
if they were expecting something.
"Now then, George!" said the witch. "We are waiting to hear all about your
fortune."
Everybody clapped their hands--not the dragon, the weathercock, and those
without hands--and cried: "Bravo! Bravo!"
George felt very shy. "It's a long story," he began.
"All stories are long; all _good_ stories," said a voice, and there was
the giant peeping at them from behind the trees!
"It's all right," he explained. "I'm lying down, so I shan't be in
anybody's way."
* * * * *
So George told them his story--all that you have read in these pages, and
everybody listened, and now and then told a little bit themselves when it
came to the part which they knew.
At last they came to the end. "And so they married and lived happily ever
after!" said the Queen, with a smile.
George jumped to his feet and clapped his hands. "I told you I was right!"
he cried to the giant. "All stories end in that way."
"Ah, but _your_ story isn't finished, so I shall be right," said the
giant. "You're not married, you know. Ha, ha!"
"Stop laughing at once!" ordered the witch. "You'll curdle all the cream
if you're not careful. Laugh down in your boots and then it won't matter."
"I can't," replied the giant. "I've tried, oh, ever so hard, and it always
comes out the wrong way. Whatever I do is wrong."
"Oh, please, don't cry!" begged George. "I'm sure you did try. It must be
difficult to remember that you are a giant."
"It's a long, long way to my boots," said the giant. "I expect the
laughter gets tired about half-way, and bursts. Then, you know, it's no
good. When your laughter bursts it flies out of your mouth before you
know where you are. I remember----"
"You are _not_ to remember," commanded the witch. "It's time for supper."
She waved her stick, and in a flash there was the supper all ready laid.
What a pity that all suppers can't be arranged as easily as this!
Well, they ate and they drank, and all the time sweet music was played
by invisible musicians. It was far, far finer than George's last
birthday-party.
After supper everybody--except the giant--told stories or sang songs, and
Alexander showed them how dogs signal to one another by tail-wagging.
Then there was a moment's silence. Old Father Time arose and said: "I must
go on my way once more. It is now time to say farewell."
"Stop a minute!" cried Tom Tiddler. "We must give George a present. Each
one of us must give him something as a remembrance--or else he might
forget us!"
He put his hand in his pocket, drew something out and presented it to
George. It was a leaf!
"A leaf for remembrance! George will find out what it means by and by,"
he said, with a smile. "Now then, it's somebody else's turn."
Each in turn shook hands with George and gave him a present. Now, what did
they give?
Last of all came the beautiful Queen. With a radiant smile she took George
in her arms and kissed him. It was just like being kissed by sweet roses,
honeysuckle, and all the fragrant flowers you can think of!
"I have given him the best present of all," she said. "For his end to the
story is really the sweetest; 'they lived happily ever after.' George is
a fairy boy, after all, aren't you, George?"
* * * * *
How madly the music was playing! _Tum-tee-rum-tee-tiddle-tee-tum!_ Almost
as if one ought to dance to it. Yes, he would dance with the beautiful
Queen!
He opened his eyes--but where was everybody? Gone, all gone!
Around him were hundreds and hundreds of tiny figures dancing, singing,
flying through the air. Many of them were wearing green jackets and red
caps and were playing--ah, the music--the same sweet melody he had heard
so often!
Could they be--the fairies?
Where was he? He seemed to be moving along. He was actually in a carriage
which was being dragged along by any number of these tiny people. On the
box sat a little figure--could it be Tom Tiddler? He guessed all in a
flash it was--of course, you've guessed it too--Puck.
Puck turned round and smiled at George. "Home! We're going home now.
Mother wants you. Mind you don't forget your fortune, George!"
On they drove; through the wood with the moon shining down on them above
the trees; down the hill past the windmill, which made George think of the
young dragon who went to look for his fortune; and into the garden. Home
at last! Alexander met them at the gate.
"Welcome home, George!" he wuffed. "Hasn't it been an adventure?"
George sat up straight in the carriage as if he had been a prince or a
victorious general coming home from the war. At last the carriage stopped.
[Illustration: AROUND HIM WERE HUNDREDS AND HUNDREDS OF TINY FIGURES]
Then George, who felt as if he had been in a dream, turned to the fairies
and said: "I _am_ pleased to be home again. Thank you so much for
bringing me all this way. I have enjoyed myself, oh, ever so much!"
Puck took off his cap and bowed. "You're here: you might be there, but
you're not. Now you know _all_ about it!"
"Why, Tom Tiddler said that!" cried George.
Before he could say another word the fairies were all flying away in the
air. _Tinkle, tinkle!_--you should have heard their tiny laughter!
Puck smiled: "Don't forget us, little George! Don't forget us! You are a
fairy boy, after all, aren't you?" and in an instant--_whish!_--he was
gone!
* * * * *
"George, darling!" Who was that calling him? Could it be Mother?
What a long time he must have kept her waiting!
[Illustration]