IN THE SUGAR-PLUM GARDEN.
The bough upon which Davy had fallen bent far down with his weight, then
sprang back, then bent again, and in this way fell into a sort of
delightful up-and-down dipping motion, which he found very soothing and
agreeable. Indeed, he was so pleased and comforted at finding himself
near the ground once more that he lay back in a crotch between two
branches, enjoying the rocking of the bough, and lazily wondering what
had become of the Goblin, and whether this was the end of the Believing
Voyage, and a great many other things, until he chanced to wonder where
he was. Then he sat up on the branch in great astonishment, for he saw
that the tree was in full leaf and loaded with plums, and it flashed
across his mind that the winter had disappeared very suddenly, and that
he had fallen into a place where it was broad daylight.
The plum-tree was the most beautiful and wonderful thing he had ever
seen, for the leaves were perfectly white, and the plums, which looked
extremely delicious, were of every imaginable color.
Now, it immediately occurred to Davy that he had never in his whole life
had all the plums he wanted at any one time. Here was a rare chance for
a feast, and he carefully selected the largest and most luscious-looking
plum he could find, to begin with. To his disappointment it proved to be
quite hard, and as solid and heavy as a stone. He was looking at it in
great perplexity, and punching it with his thumbs in the hope of finding
a soft place in it, when he heard a rustling sound among the leaves,
and, looking up, he saw the Cockalorum perched upon the bough beside
him. He was gazing sadly at the plum, and his feathers were more rumpled
than ever. Presently he gave a long sigh and said, in his low, murmuring
voice, "Perhaps it's a sugar-plum," and then flew clumsily away as
before.
"Perhaps it is!" exclaimed Davy, joyfully, taking a great bite of the
plum. To his surprise and disgust he found his mouth full of very
bad-tasting soap, and at the same moment the white leaves of the
plum-tree suddenly turned over and showed the words "APRIL FOOL" printed
very distinctly on their under sides. To make the matter worse, the
Cockalorum came back and flew slowly around the branches, laughing
softly to himself with a sort of a chuckling sound, until Davy, almost
crying with disappointment and mortification, scrambled down from the
tree to the ground.
He found himself in a large garden planted with plum-trees, like the one
he had fallen into, and with walks winding about among them in every
direction. These walks were beautifully paved with sugar-almonds and
bordered by long rows of many-colored motto-papers neatly planted in the
ground. He was too much distressed, however, by what had happened in the
plum-tree to be interested or pleased with this discovery, and was about
walking away, along one of the paths, in the hope of finding his way out
of the garden, when he suddenly caught sight of a small figure standing
a little distance from him.
He was the strangest-looking creature Davy had ever seen, not even
excepting the Goblin. In the first place he was as flat as a pancake,
and about as thick as one; and, in the second place, he was so
transparent that Davy could see through his head and his arms and his
legs almost as clearly as though he had been made of glass. This was so
surprising in itself that when Davy presently discovered that he was
made of beautiful, clear lemon candy, it seemed the most natural thing
in the world, as explaining his transparency. He was neatly dressed in a
sort of tunic of writing-paper, with a cocked hat of the same material,
and he had under his arm a large book, with the words "HOLE-KEEPER'S
VACUUM" printed on the cover. This curious-looking creature was standing
before an extremely high wall, with his back to Davy, intently watching
a large hole in the wall about a foot from the ground. There was nothing
extraordinary about the appearance of the hole (except that the lower
edge of it was curiously tied in a large bow-knot, like a cravat); but
Davy watched it carefully for a few moments, thinking that perhaps
something marvellous would come out of it. Nothing appeared, however,
and Davy, walking up close behind the candy man, said very politely, "If
you please, sir, I dropped in here"--
Before he could finish the sentence the Hole-keeper said snappishly,
"Well, drop out again--quick!"
"But," pleaded Davy, "you can't drop out of a place, you know, unless
the place should happen to turn upside down."
"I _don't_ know anything about it," replied the Hole-keeper, without
moving. "I never saw anything drop--except once. Then I saw a gum-drop.
Are you a gum?" he added, suddenly turning around and staring at Davy.
"Of course I'm not," said Davy, indignantly. "If you'll only listen to
me you'll understand exactly how it happened."
"Well, go on," said the Hole-keeper, impatiently, "and don't be
tiresome."
"I fell down ever so far," said Davy, beginning his story over again,
"and at last I broke through something"--
"That was the skylight!" shrieked the Hole-keeper, dashing his book upon
the ground in a fury. "That was the barley-sugar skylight, and I shall
certainly be boiled!"
This was such a shocking idea that Davy stood speechless, staring at
the Hole-keeper, who rushed to and fro in a convulsion of distress.
"Now, see here," said the Hole-keeper, at length, coming up to him and
speaking in a low, trembling voice. "This must be a private secret
between us. Do you solemsy promilse?"
"I prolemse," said Davy, earnestly. This wasn't at all what he meant to
say, and it sounded very ridiculous; but somehow the words _wouldn't_
come straight. The Hole-keeper, however, seemed perfectly satisfied,
and, picking up his book, said, "Well, just wait till I can't find your
name," and began hurriedly turning over the leaves.
Davy saw, to his astonishment, that there was nothing whatever in the
book, all the leaves being perfectly blank, and he couldn't help saying,
rather contemptuously:--
"How do you expect to find my name in _that_ book? There's nothing in
it."
"Ah! that's just it, you see," said the Hole-keeper, exultingly; "I look
in it for the names that ought to be out of it. It's the completest
system that ever was invented. Oh! here you aren't!" he added, staring
with great satisfaction at one of the blank pages. "Your name is Rupsy
Frimbles."
"It's nothing of the sort," said Davy, indignantly.
"Tut! Tut!" said the Hole-keeper. "Don't stop to contradict or you'll be
too late;" and Davy felt himself gently lifted off his feet and pushed
head-foremost into the hole. It was quite dark and rather sticky, and
smelt strongly of burnt sugar, and Davy had a most unpleasant time of it
crawling through on his hands and knees. To add to his distress, when he
came out at the further end, instead of being, as he had hoped, in the
open country, he found himself in a large room, with a lofty ceiling,
through which a brilliant light was mysteriously shining. The floor was
of tin, and greased to such a slippery degree that Davy could hardly
keep his feet, and against the walls on all sides were ranged long rows
of little tin chairs glistening like silver in the dazzling light.
The only person in the room was a little man, something like the
Hole-keeper in appearance, but denser and darker in the way of
complexion, and dressed in a brown paper tunic and cocked hat.
This little creature was carrying a pail, and apparently varnishing the
chairs with a little swab as he moved swiftly about the room; and, as he
came nearer, Davy determined to speak to him.
"If you please," he began.
The little man jumped back apparently in the greatest alarm, and, after
a startled look at Davy, shuffled rapidly away and disappeared through a
door at the further end of the room. The next moment a confused sound of
harsh voices came through the door, and the little man reappeared,
followed by a perfect swarm of creatures so exactly like himself that it
seemed to Davy as if a thousand of him had come back. At this moment a
voice called out, "Bring Frungles this way;" and the crowd gathered
around him and began to rudely hustle him across the room.
"That's not my name!" cried Davy, struggling desperately to free
himself. "It isn't even the name I came in with!"
[Illustration: "THE CROWD BEGAN TO HUSTLE HIM ACROSS THE ROOM."]
"Tut! Tut!" said a trembling voice near him; and Davy caught sight of
the Hole-keeper, also struggling in the midst of the crowd, with his
great book hugged tightly to his breast.
"What does it all mean?" said Davy, anxiously.
"It means that we are to be taken before the king," said the
Hole-keeper, in an agitated voice. "Don't say a word until you are
spoken to, and then keep perfectly still;" and the next moment they
were dragged up to a low platform, where the king was sitting on a
gorgeous tin throne. He was precisely like the rest of the creatures,
except that he was a little larger, and wore a blue paper coat and a
sparkling tin crown, and held in his hand a long white wand, with red
lines running screw-wise around it, like a barber's pole. He stared at
Davy and the Hole-keeper for a moment, and then called out, "Are the
chairs buttered?"
"They are!" shouted the crowd, like one man.
"Then sit down!" roared the king.
The crowd shuffled off in all directions, and then engaged in a confused
struggle for the chairs. They fought desperately for a few moments,
tearing each others' shirts, and screaming out hoarse little squawks of
pain, while the king thumped furiously with his wand, and the
Hole-keeper trembled like a leaf. At last all were seated and the hubbub
ceased, and the king, frowning savagely at the Hole-keeper, exclaimed,
in a terrible voice, "Who broke the barley-sugar skylight?"
The Hole-keeper began fumbling at the leaves of his book in great
agitation, when the king, pointing at him with his wand, roared
furiously: "Boil _him_, at all events!"
"Tut! Tut! your majesty," began the Hole-keeper, confusedly, with his
stiff little tunic fairly rustling with fright; but before he could
utter another word he was rushed upon and dragged away, screaming with
terror.
"Don't you go with them!" shouted Davy, made really desperate by the
Hole-keeper's danger. "They're nothing but a lot of molasses candy!"
At this the king gave a frightful shriek, and, aiming a furious blow at
Davy with his wand, rolled off the platform into the midst of the
struggling crowd. The wand broke into a hundred pieces, and the air was
instantly filled with a choking odor of peppermint; then everything was
wrapped in darkness, and Davy felt himself being whirled along, heels
over head, through the air. Then there came a confused sound of bells
and voices, and he found himself running rapidly down a long street with
the Goblin at his side.