"But bees are not birds!" exclaimed Twinkle.
"No; as I have told you, the suburbs contain flying things that cannot
be called birds, and so are unable to live in our part of the Paradise.
But because they have wings, and love all the flowers and fruits as we
do ourselves, we have taken them under our protection."
Ephel perched upon a low bush, and when the child-larks had settled
beside him he uttered a peculiar, shrill whistle. The humming sound
grew louder, then, and presently hundreds of great bees rose above the
flower tops and hovered in the air. But none of them approached the
bush except one monstrous bumble-bee that had a body striped with black
and gold, and this one sailed slowly toward the visitors and alighted
gracefully upon a branch in front of them.
The bee was all bristling with fine hairs and was nearly half as big as
Twinkle herself; so the girl shrank back in alarm, and cried:
"Oh-h-h! I'm afraid it will sting me!"
"How ridiculous!" answered the bee, laughing in a small but merry
voice. "Our stings are only for our enemies, and we have no enemies in
this Paradise; so we do not use our stingers at all. In fact, I'd
almost forgotten I had one, until you spoke."
The words were a little mumbled, as if the insect had something in its
mouth, but otherwise they were quite easy to understand.
"Permit me to introduce her Majesty the Queen Bee," said their guide.
"These, your highness, are some little child-larks who are guests of
our King. I have brought them to visit you."
"They are very welcome," returned the Queen Bee. "Are you fond of
honey?" she asked, turning to the children.
"Sometimes," replied Chubbins; "but we've just eaten, and we're chock
full now."
"You see," the Queen remarked, "my people are all as busy as bees
gathering the honey from every flower."
"What do you do with it?" asked Twinkle.
"Oh, we eat part of it, and store up the rest for a rainy day."
"Does it ever rain here?" enquired Chubbins.
"Sometimes, at night, when we are all asleep, so as to refresh and
moisten the flowers, and help them to grow."
"But if it rains at night, there can't be any rainy days," remarked
Twinkle; "so I can't see the use of saving your honey."
"Nor can I," responded the Queen, laughing again in her pleasant way.
"Out in the world people usually rob us of our stores, and so keep us
busy getting more. But here there are not even robbers, so that the
honey has been accumulating until we hardly know what to do with it. We
have built a village of honeycombs, and I have just had my people make
me a splendid palace of honey. But it is our way to gather the sweet
stuff, whether we need it or not, so we have to act according to our
natures. I think of building a mountain of honey next."
"I'd like to see that honey palace," said Twinkle.
"Then come with me," answered the Queen Bee, "for it will give me
pleasure to show it to you."
"Shall we go?" asked the girl-lark, turning to Ephel.
"Of course," he returned. "It is quite a wonderful sight, and may
interest you."
So they all flew away, the Queen Bee taking the lead, and passed
directly over the bed of flowers with its swarm of buzzing, busy bees.
"They remind me of a verse from 'Father Goose,'" said Twinkle, looking
curiously but half fearfully at the hundreds of big insects.
"What is the verse?" asked the Queen.
"Why, it goes this way," answered the girl:
"'A bumble-bee was buzzing on a yellow hollyhock
When came along a turtle, who at the bee did mock,
Saying "Prithee, Mr. Bumble, why make that horrid noise?
It's really distracting, and every one annoys."
"'"I'm sorry," said, quite humble, the busy droning bee,
"The noise is just my bumble, and natural, you see.
And if I didn't buzz so I'm sure that you'll agree
I'd only be a big fly, and not a bumble-bee."'"
"That is quite true," said the bee, "and describes our case exactly.
But you should know that we are not named 'bumblebees' by rights, but
'Humble Bees.' The latter is our proper name."
"But why 'humble?'" asked Twinkle.
"Because we are common, work-a-day people, I suppose, and not very
aristocratic," was the reply. "I've never heard why they changed our
name to 'bumble,' but since you recited that verse I imagine it is on
account of the noise our wings make."
They had now passed over the flower beds and approached a remarkable
village, where the houses were all formed of golden-yellow honey-combs.
There were many pretty shapes among these houses, and some were large
and many stories in height while others were small and had but one
story. Some had spires and minarets reaching up into the air, and all
were laid out into streets just like a real village.
But in the center stood a great honey-comb building with so many gables
and roofs and peaks and towers that it was easy to guess it was the
Queen Bee's palace, of which she had spoken.
They flew in at a second-story window and found themselves in a big
room with a floor as smooth as glass. Yet it was composed of man
six-sided cells filled with honey, which could be seen through the
transparent covering. The walls and roof were of the same material, and
at the end of the room was a throne shaped likewise of the honey cells,
like everything else. On a bench along the wall sat several fat and
sleepy-looking bumble-bees, who scarcely woke up when their queen
entered.
"Those are the drones," she said to her visitors. "It is useless to
chide them for their laziness, because they are too stupid to pay
attention to even a good scolding. Don't mind them in any way."
After examining the beautiful throne-room, they visited the sleeping
chambers, of which there were many, and afterward the parlors and
dining-room and the work-rooms.
In these last were many bees building the six-sided pockets or cells
for storing the honey in, or piling them up in readiness for the return
of those who were gathering honey from the flowers.
"We are not really honey-bees," remarked the Queen; "but gathering
honey is our chief business, after all, and we manage to find a lot of
it."
"Won't your houses melt when it rains?" asked Twinkle.
"No, for the comb of the honey is pure wax," the Queen Bee replied.
"Water does not melt it at all."
"Where do you get all the wax?" Chubbins enquired.
"From the flowers, of course. It grows on the stamens, and is a fine
dust called pollen, until we manufacture it into wax. Each of my bees
carries two sacks, one in front of him, to put the honey in, and one
behind to put the wax in."
"That's funny," said the boy-lark.
"I suppose it may be, to you," answered the Queen, "but to us it is a
very natural thing."
[CHAPTER XVIII] _Good News_
Ephel and the children now bade the good-natured Queen Bee good-bye,
and thanked her for her kindness. The Messenger led them far away to
another place that he called a "suburb," and as they emerged from a
thick cluster of trees into a second flower garden they found the air
filled with a great assemblage of butterflies, they being both large
and small in size and colored in almost every conceivable manner.
Twinkle and Chubbins had seen many beautiful butterflies, but never
such magnificent ones as these, nor so many together at one time. Some
of them had wings fully as large as those of the Royal Messenger
himself, even when he spread them to their limit, and the markings of
these big butterfly wings were more exquisite than those found upon the
tail-feathers of the proudest peacocks.
The butterflies paid no attention to their visitors, but continued to
flutter aimlessly from flower to flower. Chubbins asked one of them a
question, but got no reply.
"Can't they talk?" he enquired of Ephel.
"Yes," said the Messenger, "they all know how to talk, but when they
speak they say nothing that is important. They are brainless, silly
creatures, for the most part, and are only interesting because they are
beautiful to look at. The King likes to watch the flashes of color as
they fly about, and so he permits them to live in this place. They are
very happy here, in their way, for there is no one to chase them or to
stick pins through them when they are caught."
Just then a chime of bells tinkled far away in the distance, and the
Royal Messenger listened intently and then said:
"It is my summons to his Majesty the King. We must return at once to
the palace."
So they flew into the air again and proceeded to cross the lovely
gardens and pass through the avenues of jewelled trees and the fragrant
orchards and groves until they came at last to the royal bower of white
flowers.
The child-larks entered with their guide and found the gorgeous King
Bird of Paradise still strutting on his perch on the golden bush and
enjoying the admiring glances of his courtiers and the ladies of his
family. He turned as the children entered and addressed his Messenger,
saying:
"Well, my dear Ephel, have you shown the strangers all the sights of
our lovely land?"
"Most of them, your Majesty," replied Ephel.
"What do you think of us now?" asked the King, turning his eyes upon
the lark-children.
"It must be the prettiest place in all the world!" cried Twinkle, with
real enthusiasm.
His Majesty seemed much pleased. "I am very sorry you cannot live here
always," he said.
"I'm not," declared Chubbins. "It's too pretty. I'd get tired of it
soon."
"He means," said Twinkle, hastily, for she feared the blunt remark
would displease the kindly King, "that he isn't really a bird, but a
boy who has been forced to wear a bird's body. And your Majesty is wise
enough to understand that the sort of life you lead in your fairy
paradise would be very different from the life that boys generally
lead."
"Of course," replied the King. "A boy's life must be a dreadful one."
"It suits me, all right," said Chubbins.
The King looked at him attentively.
"Would you really prefer to resume your old shape, and cease to be a
bird?" he asked.
"Yes, if I could," Chubbins replied.
"Then I will tell you how to do it," said the King. "Since you told me
your strange story I have talked with my Royal Necromancer, who knows a
good deal about magic, and especially about that same tuxix who
wickedly transformed you in the forest. And the Royal Necromancer tells
me that if you can find a tingle-berry, and eat it, you will resume
your natural form again. For it is the one antidote in all the world
for the charm the tuxix worked upon you."
"What _is_ a tingle-berry?" asked Twinkle, anxiously, for this
information interested her as much as it did Chubbins.
"I do not know," said the King, "for it is a common forest berry, and
never grows in our paradise. But doubtless you will have little trouble
in finding the bush of the tingle-berry when you return to the outside
world."
The children were both eager to go at once and seek the tingle-berry;
but they could not be so impolite as to run away just then, for the
King announced that he had prepared an entertainment in their honor.
So they sat on a branch of the golden bush beside their friend Ephel,
while at a nod from the King a flock of the beautiful Birds of Paradise
flew into the bower and proceeded to execute a most delightful and
bewildering set of aerial evolutions. They flew swiftly in circles,
spirals, triangles, and solid squares, and all the time that they
performed sweet music was played by some unseen band. It almost dazzled
the eyes of the child-larks to watch this brilliant flashing of the
colored wings of the birds, but the evolutions only lasted for a few
minutes, and then the birds flew out again in regular ranks.
Then the little brown lady-birds danced gracefully upon the carpet,
their dainty feet merely touching the tips of the lovely flowers.
Afterward the flowers themselves took part, and sang a delightful
chorus, and when this was finished the King said they would now indulge
in some refreshment.
Instantly a row of bell-shaped blossoms appeared upon the golden bush,
one for each bird present, and all were filled with a delicious ice
that was as cold and refreshing as if it had just been taken from a
freezer. Twinkle and Chubbins asked for spoons, and received them
quickly; but the others all ate the ices with their bills.
The King seemed to enjoy his as much as any one, and Twinkle noticed
that as fast as a blossom was emptied of its contents it disappeared
from the branch.
The child-larks now thanked the beautiful but vain King very earnestly
for all his kindness to them, and especially for telling them about the
tingle-berries; and when all the good-byes had been exchanged Ephel
flew with them back to the tree where they had left the Guardian of the
Entrance and their faithful comrade, Policeman Bluejay.
[CHAPTER XIX] _The Rebels_
They were warmly greeted by the bluejay, who asked:
"Did you enjoy the wonderful Paradise?"
"Very much, indeed," cried Twinkle. "But we were sorry you could not be
with us."
"Never mind that," returned the policeman, cheerfully. "I have feasted
my eyes upon all the beauties visible from this tree, and my good
friend the Guardian has talked to me and given me much good advice that
will surely be useful to me in the future. So I have been quite
contented while you were gone."
The children now gave their thanks to Ephel for his care of them and
polite attention, and the Royal Messenger said he was pleased that the
King had permitted him to serve them. They also thanked the green-robed
Guardian of the Entrance, and then, accompanied by Policeman Bluejay,
they quitted the golden tree and began their journey back to the
forest.
It was no trouble at all to return. The wind caught their wings and
blew against them strongly, so that they had but to sail before the
breeze and speed along until they were deep in the forest again. Then
the wind moderated, and presently died away altogether, so that they
were forced to begin flying in order to continue their journey home.
It was now the middle of the afternoon, and the policeman said:
"I hope all has been quiet and orderly during my absence. There are so
many disturbing elements among the forest birds that I always worry
when they are left alone for many hours at a time."
"I'm sure they have behaved themselves," returned Twinkle. "They fear
your power so much that the evil-minded birds do not dare to offend you
by being naughty."
"That is true," said the policeman. "They know very well that I will
not stand any nonsense, and will always insist that the laws be
obeyed."
They were now approaching that part of the forest where they lived, and
as the policeman concluded his speech they were surprised to hear a
great flutter of wings among the trees, and presently a flock of big
black rooks flew toward them.
At the head of the band was a saucy-looking fellow who wore upon his
head a policeman's helmet, and carried under his wing a club.
Policeman Bluejay gave a cry of anger as he saw this, and dashed
forward to meet the rooks.
"What does this mean, you rascal?" he demanded, in a fierce voice.
"Easy there, my fine dandy," replied the rook, with a hoarse laugh.
"Don't get saucy, or I'll give you a rap on the head!"
The rooks behind him shrieked with delight at this impudent speech, and
that made the mock policeman strut more absurdly than ever.
The bluejay was not only astonished at this rebellion but he was
terribly angry as well.
"That is my policeman's helmet and club," he said sternly. "Where did
you get them?"
"At your nest, of course," retorted the other. "We made up our minds
that we have had a miserable bluejay for a policeman long enough; so
the rooks elected me in your place, and I'm going to make you birds
stand around and obey orders, I can tell you! If you do as I command,
you'll get along all right; if you don't, I'll pound you with your own
club until you obey."
Again the rooks screamed in an admiring chorus of delight, and when the
bluejay observed their great numbers, and that they were all as large
as he was, and some even larger and stronger, he decided not to risk an
open fight with them just then, but to take time to think over what had
best be done.
"I will call the other birds to a meeting," he said to the rook, "and
let them decide between us."
"That won't do any good," was the reply. "We rooks have decided the
matter already. We mean to rule the forest, after this, and if any one,
or all of the birds, dare to oppose us, we'll fight until we force them
to serve us. Now, then, what do you intend to do about it?"
"I'll think it over," said Policeman Bluejay.
"Oho! oho! He's afraid! He's a coward!" yelled the rooks; and one of
them added:
"Stand up and fight, if you dare!"
"I'll fight your false policeman, or any one of you at a time," replied
the bluejay.
"No, you won't; you'll fight us all together, or not at all," they
answered.
The bluejay knew it would be foolish to do that, so he turned away and
whispered to the lark-children:
"Follow me, and fly as swiftly as you can."
Like a flash he darted high into the air, with Twinkle and Chubbins
right behind him, and before the rooks could recover from their
surprise the three were far away.
Then the big black birds gave chase, uttering screams of rage; but they
could not fly so swiftly as the bluejay and the larks, and were soon
obliged to abandon the pursuit.
When at last he knew that they had escaped the rooks, Policeman Bluejay
entered the forest again and went among the birds to call them all to a
meeting. They obeyed the summons without delay, and were very indignant
when they heard of the rebellion of the rooks and the insults that had
been heaped upon their regularly elected officer. Judge Bullfinch
arrived with his head bandaged with soft feathers, for he had met the
rook policeman and, when he remonstrated, had been severely pounded by
the wicked bird's club.
"But what can we do?" he asked. "The rooks are a very powerful tribe,
and the magpies and cuckoos and blackbirds are liable to side with
them, if they seem to be stronger than we are."
"We might get all our people together and fall upon them in a great
army, and so defeat them," suggested an oriole.
"The trouble with that plan," decided the judge, "is that we can only
depend upon the smaller birds. The big birds might desert us, and in
that case we would be badly beaten."
"Perhaps it will be better to submit to the rooks," said a little
chickadee, anxiously. "We are neither warriors nor prizefighters, and
if we obey our new rulers they may leave us in peace."
"No, indeed!" cried a linnet. "If we submit to them they will think we
are afraid, and will treat us cruelly. I know the nature of these
rooks, and believe they can only be kept from wickedness by a power
stronger than their own."
"Hear me, good friends," said the bluejay, who had been silent because
he was seriously thinking; "I have a plan for subduing these rebels,
and it is one that I am sure will succeed. But I must make a long
journey to accomplish my purpose. Go now quietly to your nests; but
meet me at the Judgment Tree at daybreak to-morrow morning. Also be
sure to ask every friendly bird of the forest to be present, for we
must insist upon preserving our liberty, or else be forever slaves to
these rooks."
With these words he rose into the air and sped swiftly upon his errand.
The other birds looked after him earnestly.
"I think it will be well for us to follow his advice," said Judge
Bullfinch, after a pause. "The bluejay is an able bird, and has had
much experience. Besides, we have ever found him just and honorable
since the time we made him our policeman, so I feel that we may depend
upon him in this emergency."
"Why, it is all we can do," replied a robin; and this remark was so
true that the birds quietly dispersed and returned to their nests to
await the important meeting the next morning.
[CHAPTER XX] _The Battle_
Twinkle and Chubbins flew slowly home to their nests in the maple tree,
pausing to ask every bird they met where tingle-berries grew. But none
of them could tell.
"I'm sorry we did not ask Policeman Bluejay," said Chubbins.
"I intended to ask him, but we hadn't time," replied Twinkle. "But he
will be back to-morrow morning."
"I wonder what he's going to do," remarked the boy.
"Don't know, Chub; but it'll be the right thing, whatever it is. You
may be sure of that."
They visited the nest of the baby goldfinches, and found the Widow
Chaffinch still caring for the orphans in her motherly way. The little
ones seemed to be as hungry as ever, but the widow assured the
lark-children that all five had just been fed.
"Did you ever hear of a tingle-berry?" asked Twinkle.
"Yes; it seems to me I have heard of that berry," was the reply. "If I
remember rightly my grandmother once told me of the tingle-berries, and
warned me never to eat one. But I am quite certain the things do not
grow in our forest, for I have never seen one that I can recollect."
"Where do they grow, then?" enquired Chubbins.
"I can't say exactly where; but if they are not in the forest, they
must grow in the open country."
The child-larks now returned to their own nest, and sat snuggled up in
it during the evening, talking over the day's experiences and the
wonderful things they had seen in the fairy-like Paradise of the Birds.
So much sight-seeing had made them tired, so when it grew dark they
fell fast asleep, and did not waken until the sun was peeping over the
edge of the trees.
"Good gracious!" exclaimed the girl, "we shall be late at the meeting
at the Judgment Tree. Let's hurry, Chub."
They ate a hasty breakfast from the contents of their basket, and after
flying to the brook for a drink and a dip in the cool water they
hurried toward the Judgment Tree.
There they found a vast assemblage of birds. They were so numerous,
indeed, that Twinkle was surprised to find that so many of them
inhabited the forest.
But a still greater surprise was in store for her, for immediately she
discovered sitting upon the biggest branch of the tree twenty-two
bluejays, all in a row. They were large, splendidly plumaged birds,
with keen eyes and sharp bills, and at their head was the children's
old friend, the policeman.
"These are my cousins," he said to the child-larks, proudly, "and I
have brought them from another forest, where they live, to assist me. I
am not afraid of the foolish rooks now, and in a moment we shall fly
away to give them battle."
The forest birds were all in a flutter of delight at the prompt arrival
of the powerful bluejays, and when the word of command was given they
all left the tree and flew swiftly to meet the rooks.
First came the ranks of the twenty-two bluejays, with the policeman at
their head. Then followed many magpies and cuckoos, who were too clever
to side with the naughty rooks when they saw the powerful birds the
bluejay had summoned to his assistance. After these flew the smaller
birds, of all descriptions, and they were so many and at the same time
so angry that they were likely to prove stubborn foes in a fight.
This vast army came upon the rooks in an open space in the forest.
Without waiting for any words or explanations from the rebels, the
soldierly bluejays fell upon their enemies instantly, fighting fiercely
with bill and claw, while the other birds fluttered in the rear,
awaiting their time to join in the affray.
Policeman Bluejay singled out the rook which had stolen his helmet and
club, and dashed upon him so furiously that the black rebel was amazed,
and proved an easy victim to the other's superior powers. He threw down
the club and helmet at once; but the bluejay was not satisfied with
that, and attacked the thief again and again, until the air was full of
black feathers torn from the rook's body.
After all, the battle did not last long; for the rooks soon screamed
for mercy, and found themselves badly plucked and torn by the time
their assailants finally decided they had been punished enough.
Like all blustering, evil-disposed people, when they found themselves
conquered they whined and humbled themselves before the victors and
declared they would never again rebel against Policeman Bluejay, the
regularly appointed guardian of the Law of the Forest. And I am told
that after this day the rooks, who are not rightly forest birds, betook
themselves to the nearest villages and farm houses, and contented
themselves with plaguing mankind, who could not revenge themselves as
easily as the birds did.
After the fight Policeman Bluejay thanked his cousins and sent them
home again, and then the birds all surrounded the policeman and cheered
him gratefully for his cleverness and bravery, so that he was the hero
of the hour.
Judge Bullfinch tried to make a fine speech, but the birds were too
excited to listen to his words, and he soon found himself without an
audience.
Of course, Twinkle and Chubbins took no part in the fight, but they had
hovered in the background to watch it, and were therefore as proud of
their friend as any of the forest birds could be.
[CHAPTER XXI] _The Tingle-Berries_
When the excitement of the morning had subsided and the forest was
quiet again, Policeman Bluejay came to the nest of the child-larks,
wearing his official helmet and club. You may be sure that one of the
first things Twinkle asked him was if he knew where tingle-berries
grew.
"Of course," he replied, promptly. "They grow over at the north edge of
the forest, in the open country. But you must never eat them, my dear
friend, because they are very bad for birds."
"But the Royal Necromancer of the King Bird of Paradise says the
tingle-berries will restore us to our proper forms," explained the
girl.
"Oh; did he say that? Then he probably knows," said the bluejay, "and I
will help you to find the berries. We birds always avoid them, for they
give us severe pains in our stomachs."
"That's bad," observed Chubbins, uneasily.
"Well," said Twinkle, "I'd be willing to have a pain or two, just to be
myself again."
"So would I, if it comes to that," agreed the boy. "But I'd rather have
found a way to be myself without getting the pain."
"There is usually but one thing that will overcome an enchantment,"
remarked the bluejay, seriously; "and if it is a tingle-berry that will
destroy the charm which the old tuxix put upon you, then nothing else
will answer the same purpose. The Royal Necromancer is very wise, and
you may depend upon what he says. But it is late, at this season, for
tingle-berries. They do not grow at all times of the year, and we may
not be able to find any upon the bushes."
"Cannot we go at once and find out?" asked Twinkle, anxiously.
"To be sure. It will grieve me to lose you, my little friends, but I
want to do what will give you the most happiness. Come with me,
please."
They flew away through the forest, and by and by came upon the open
country to the north, leaving all the trees behind them.
"Why, this is the place we entered the forest, that day we got
'chanted!" cried Twinkle.
"So it is," said Chubbins. "I believe we could find our way home from
here, Twink."
"But we can't go home like we are," replied the girl-lark. "What would
our folks say, to find us with birds' bodies?"
"They'd yell and run," declared the boy.
"Then," said she, "we must find the tingle-berries."
The bluejay flew with them to some bushes which he said were the kind
the tingle-berries grew upon, but they were all bare and not a single
berry could be found.
"There must be more not far away," said the policeman, encouragingly.
"Let us look about us."
They found several clumps of the bushes, to be sure; but unfortunately
no berries were now growing upon them, and at each failure the children
grew more and more sad and despondent.
"If we have to wait until the bushes bear again," Twinkle remarked, "it
will be nearly a year, and I'm sure we can't live in the forest all
winter."
"Why not?" asked the policeman.
"The food in our basket would all be gone, and then we would starve to
death," was the reply. "We can't eat bugs and worms, you know."
"I'd rather die!" declared Chubbins, mournfully.
The bluejay became very thoughtful.
"If we could find some of the tingle bushes growing near the shade of
the forest," he said at last, "there might still be some berries
remaining on them. Out here in the bright sunshine the berries soon
wither and drop off and disappear."
"Then let us look near the trees," suggested Twinkle.
They searched for a long time unsuccessfully. It was growing late, and
they were almost in despair, when a sharp cry from Policeman Bluejay
drew the child-larks to his side.
"What is it?" enquired the girl, trembling with nervous excitement.
"Why," said the policeman, "here is a bush at last, and on it are
exactly two ripe tingle-berries!"
[CHAPTER XXII] _The Transformation_
They looked earnestly at the bush, and saw that their friend spoke
truly. Upon a high limb was one plump, red berry, looking much like a
cranberry, while lower down grew another but smaller berry, which
appeared to be partially withered.
"Good!" the lark-children cried, joyfully; and the next moment Chubbins
added: "You eat the big berry, Twink."
"Why?" she asked, hesitating.
"It looks as if it had more stomach-ache in it," he replied.
"I'm not afraid of that," said she. "But do you suppose the little
berry will be enough for you? One side of it is withered, you see."
"That won't matter," returned the boy-lark. "The Royal Necromancer said
to eat one berry. He didn't say a little or a big one, you know, or
whether it should be plump or withered."
"That is true," said the girl-lark. "Shall I eat mine now?"
"The sooner the better," Chubbins replied.
"Don't forget me, little friend, when you are a human again," said
Policeman Bluejay, sadly.
"I shall never forget you," Twinkle answered, "nor any part of all your
kindness to us. We shall be friends forever."
That seemed to please the handsome blue bird, and Twinkle was so eager
that she could not wait to say more. She plucked the big, plump berry,
put it in her mouth with her little claw, and ate it as soon as
possible.
In a moment she said: "Ouch! Oo-oo-oo!" But it did not hurt so badly,
after all. Her form quickly changed and grew larger; and while Chubbins
and Policeman Bluejay watched her anxiously she became a girl again,
and the bird's body with its soft gray feathers completely disappeared.
As she felt herself changing she called: "Good-bye!" to the bluejay;
but even then he could hardly understand her words.
"Good-bye!" he answered, and to Twinkle's ears it sounded like
"Chir-r-rip-chee-wee!"
"How did it feel?" asked Chubbins; but she looked at him queerly, as if
his language was strange to her, and seemed to be half frightened.
"Guess I'll have to eat my berry," he said, with a laugh, and proceeded
to pluck and eat it, as Twinkle had done. He yelled once or twice at
the cramp the fruit gave him, but as soon as the pain ceased he began
to grow and change in the same way his little comrade had.
But not entirely. For although he got his human body and legs back
again, all in their natural size, his wings remained as they were, and
it startled him to find that the magic power had passed and he was
still partly a bird.
"What's the matter?" asked Twinkle.
"Is anything wrong?" enquired the bluejay.
The boy understood them both, although they could not now understand
each other. He said to Twinkle:
"I guess the berry wasn't quite big enough." Then he repeated the same
thing in the bird language to Policeman Bluejay, and it sounded to
Twinkle like:
"Pir-r-r-r--eep--cheep--tweet!"
"What in the world can you do?" asked the girl, quite distressed. "It
will be just dreadful if you have to stay like that."
The tears came to Chubbins' eyes. He tried to restrain them, but could
not. He flapped his little wings dolefully and said:
"I wish I was either one thing or the other! I'd rather be a child-lark
again, and nest in a tree, than to go home to the folks in this way."
Policeman Bluejay had seen his dilemma at the first, and his sharp eyes
had been roving over all the bushes that were within the range of his
vision. Suddenly he uttered a chirp of delight and dashed away,
speedily returning with another tingle-berry in his bill.
"It's the very last one there is!" said he to Chubbins.
"But it is all that I want," cried the boy, brightening at once; and
then, regardless of any pain, he ate the berry as greedily as if he was
fond of a stomache-ache.
The second berry had a good effect in one way, for Chubbins' wings
quickly became arms, and he was now as perfectly formed as he had been
before he met with the cruel tuxix. But he gave a groan, every once in
a while, and Twinkle suspected that two berries were twice as powerful
as one, and made a pain that lasted twice as long.
As the boy and girl looked around they were astonished to find their
basket standing on the ground beside them. On a limb of the first tree
of the forest sat silently regarding them a big blue bird that they
knew must be Policeman Bluejay, although somehow or other he had lost
his glossy black helmet and the club he had carried underneath his
wing.
"It's almost dark," said Twinkle, yawning. "Let's go home, Chub."
"All right."
He picked up the basket, and for a few minutes they walked along in
silence.
Then the boy asked:
"Don't your legs feel heavy, Twink?"
"Yes," said she; "do yours?"
"Awful," said he.
* * * * * *
L. FRANK BAUM'S
New Oz Book
IS
VERY OZZY
The author of THE WIZARD OF OZ and FATHER GOOSE has answered thousands
of his little readers' letters by writing