The true story of Humpty Dumpty

“There, now, Miss Meg,” exclaimed Nurse, reprovingly, “you’ll never be able to eat it prettily out of the shell now!”

“I don’t want to eat it prettily,” declared Meg. “I’m going to mix it up in a mess!”

Bab made a face at hers, and did not even break the shell. Dick, being a boy and always hungry, ate his, but grumbled all the time.

“You oughtn’t to hate poor Humpty Dumpty!” said Nurse, smiling and shaking her finger at her.

“Nurse, what an old goose you are!” said Bab, eating bread and jam as fast as she possibly could.

From all this you will see just what disagreeable children Dick and Meg and Bab were. If they had not been, this story would never have been written, for they would not have had to be taught better by being summoned to—But that comes later on!

Our three children found fault with everything, particularly their food, and were discontented and quarrelsome most of the time. Poor Nurse loved them dearly, but found them very trying to take care of, and the children only laughed at her mild scoldings, and made fun of the fat finger which she shook at them as she sighed, “My dears, my dears!”

They were quite pretty children. Meg had yellow hair, Bab black, and Dick brown; and they looked far too nice to be so horrid. And as a matter of fact, they were really, down in their hearts, much nicer than they seemed. The whole trouble with them was that—and this is a dreadful thing to say of any child!—they would have nothing to do with Make Believe Land! They did not believe in elves or goblins or giants or brownies, or anything really important and sensible, and they thought fairy tales silly!

“Tell us a story, Nurse,” said Bab, when they had finished their tea. But Nurse shook her head.

“You don’t care for my stories,” she said. “I only know the old ones, about the Fairy Queen—”

“My dears, my dears!” she said solemnly. “Some day, if you are not careful, you will be sorely punished for the things you have said about the friends of all the children of the world! Why, it’s downright wicked for a child not to love the Fairy Queen and Santa Claus and Mother Goose!”

“If there ever was a Fairy Queen,” said Meg, scornfully, “she was a disagreeable thing,—turning people into spiders and toads and things!”

“If there ever had been a Santa Claus, he would have been an awful bore!” remarked Bab.

“If there ever could be a Mother Goose,” declared Dick, “she’d be a regular goose, and no mistake!”

“Oh, dear! Oh, dear! However can you talk so, my lambs?” cried poor Nurse. She piled some wood on the fire, and cleared away the dishes that were on the nursery table. Then, while the children sat on the hearth-rug and chattered, she left the room, shaking her head, and muttering:

“Oh, dear! I hope they’ll never be punished for the [Pg 6]dreadful things they say. Poor lambs! Just to think of not believing in the Make Believe folk!”

Now, as our three children sat on the rug in front of the nursery fire, they all fell asleep; and a very strange thing happened. Whether the events that followed were real or only dreamed, they never could know quite surely. But if it was all a dream,—if it was all a dream, I say,—there is something very odd about it: for they all dreamed the same thing!

The first thing that happened was that a hum and buzz like that of a great big bumblebee filled the room. Next moment a small, anxious voice was exclaiming:

“At last I’ve found you! I’ve nearly worried my wings off; I have indeed!”

They all three started up, rubbing their eyes. Just alighting on the hearth-rug before them, was a little green sprite, with goggle eyes, and gauzy wings like a dragon-fly.

“I am the Bizzybuzz,” answered the small creature. “And I have been sent by Mother Goose to summon you all three to Make Believe Land!”

The children rubbed their eyes. What was a bizzybuzz? And Make Believe Land! Mother Goose! Were they dreaming? No, they knew they could not be dreaming, for they would never dream such nonsense as this!

Meanwhile the sprite stood on the hearth-rug, his slender wings still whirring faintly, and his goggle eyes quite anxious.

“Oh, dear!” he exclaimed at last. “You really are slow about starting, you know! Or”—hopefully—“have you been getting ready,—packing up and all that?”

This was too much for Meg’s practical soul. Besides, she was glad to have a chance to vent her ruffled and bewildered feelings.

“What nonsense!” she said sharply. “You know we haven’t moved! How could we have been packing up?”

“Why,” exclaimed Bizzybuzz, looking greatly surprised, “do you really have to do things here? In Make Believe Land we have only to imagine we are doing them.”

“‘Rot’!” repeated Bizzybuzz, innocently. “What is that?” And Dick felt rather ashamed of himself.

Bizzybuzz looked at her in as pitying a way as he could manage, considering the queerness of his eyes. “Don’t you know how to make believe?” he asked earnestly. “And you a little girl!”

The children looked at each other. For the first time they were just a wee bit discontented with their sensible views. How did it feel, they wondered, to make believe?

“Now,” said Bizzybuzz, “just suppose that you want to pack up something to carry away with you on your journey. What would you each like to have most?”

“My fox-terrier,” she explained enthusiastically. “I wish he were here now for you to see. He’s the dearest—”

“Oh, it wouldn’t do at all!” cried Bizzybuzz, hastily. [Pg 11]“For if you had him here, how would you make believe that you had him?”

“Now,” went on Bizzybuzz, in a business-like way, “you must each pretend that you are carrying what you most want. You”—to Meg—“have a pink dress hanging on your arm. Oh, what a pretty pink dress! It has ribbons and lace and ruffles! It must be very becoming.”

“Of course I do!” said Bizzybuzz. “Never mind, you’ll see it yourself in time.” Then he turned to Dick. “Do you mind letting me see your jack-knife?” he said. “Thanks!” He pretended to take something in his hand. “What a fine one! May I open it? One—two—three blades! It certainly is a fine jack-knife. Here, take it back again.” He seemed to hand the imaginary knife back to Dick. “Do you see it?” he demanded anxiously.

“N-no,” said Dick, doubtfully. “I don’t think I do. But I’m not quite sure. I feel as though I might see it if you kept on making believe long enough.”

“That’s much better!” exclaimed Bizzybuzz, looking pleased. “And now for you,” he went on, turning to Bab. [Pg 12]“You have Wiggles in your arms; suppose you put him down. Oh, he doesn’t want to get down, does he? He loves you very much! See if he’ll come to me. Here, doggie,—doggie,—doggie!”

Bab stared hard at the spot where her beloved Wiggles was supposed to be. For a moment she did really seem to see his fat white and brown body wriggling ecstatically and trying to wag its stump of a tail.

“Oh!” she cried, “I almost saw him then—almost—yes, yes, yes! I quite see him! Oh, Wiggles, dear!” And down she went on her knees.

“You’ll learn very quickly,” said Bizzybuzz, approvingly, “you, little girl with the dog. But you’ll all learn in time. And now we must be off.”

“Yes; Mother Goose will be growing impatient. Come, hurry up! And don’t forget that you are bringing with you the jack-knife, and the pink dress, and Wiggles!”

“Ah! But you will see them,” said Bizzybuzz. “I can see them now, though they’re not my make-believes! And the moment that you have learned to believe in all the make-believe things in Make Believe Land, and love them as you should, you’ll find that you have with you the knife and the dress and the dog! Now come!”

He spread his wings and flew to the window. Perching on the sill, he beckoned to them.

“She’ll tell you herself,” said Bizzybuzz, and bowed low. “Bless her Majesty’s heart!”

“She is one of the many rulers of Make Believe Land,” said Bizzybuzz, bowing again. “Come, come, come! You really must not delay any longer.”

“That isn’t right,” said Meg. “You should say ‘on which to fly.’ My teacher told me so.”

Bizzybuzz looked at her disapprovingly. “You really are a disagreeable child, aren’t you?” he remarked. “Never mind. There is your steed on which to fly!”

He pointed again. The three children could not help hurrying to the window to see what it was.

On the ledge outside was sitting a huge owl. His feathers ruffled out and then subsided in the night wind, and his great eyes were like moons. He looked tremendously wise.

“Nonsense! Don’t be so silly!” said Bizzybuzz,—for [Pg 14]it was his turn to be scornful. “Come, climb on! Or no—I suppose you think you are too big! Well, shut your eyes!”

They obeyed, and suddenly felt themselves lifted quickly through the air and deposited upon a nest of soft, warm feathers.

“All right; open your eyes,” said the voice of Bizzybuzz. “We’re off!”

Everything was quite dark when they opened their eyes, but looking up they could see the stars and a driving shoal of faintly shining clouds. Beneath them was a motion as soft and steady as the rocking of a great cradle; they were riding on the owl!

Above them flew Bizzybuzz, and they noticed that he was quite transparent against the least bit of light, and that they could see the stars through him very clearly.

“Go to sleep if you like,” he told them, “for the journey is a long one.” Then he added something the children did not understand at the time: “I came to your country in less than a second, but it will take a longer time to carry you to Make Believe Land!”

The children were far too excited to sleep. They leaned over the owl’s back to catch glimpses of the world underneath, and more than once they nearly fell. It was a thrilling ride! Sometimes they flew low down, through forests dense and fragrant and black; then up, up, into the clouds and starlight; then straight on, over shining water, and cities full of twinkling yellow lights,—on—on—on!

Often they passed other birds, even a bat or two, and strange, shimmering insects of monstrous size, and big, soft, stupid, graceful moths with wings of gray or green. The air seemed full of sounds,—the whirr of wings, the call of one flying thing to another, the rustling stir of the tree-tops, the low murmur of the wind, the laughing noise of running water underneath. Never had their ears been so busy.

“Greeting, brother!” called Bizzybuzz to a big white owl that was flapping along beside them. But the owl said never a word.

“He will not speak,” explained Bizzybuzz, flitting down to whisper, “because he is known as the wisest of all owls, and he is afraid that if he talks people will find out that he isn’t!”

“Look!” said Bizzybuzz, shooting up in the air once more. “He is still travelling beside us. He, like ourselves, is flying in the Wind Channel of Echoes. It is the best at this hour of the night.”

They stood up to look. The white owl wore a collar of glittering silver, and on his back was sitting a wee old woman dressed all in white.

“She is the Witch of Silence,” said Bizzybuzz. “She is very, very wise. She lives in a hollow tree, and the white owl sits outside and meditates. She is on her way now to the North Star, where there is a very learned oracle who can teach her some new spells.”

“She will ride along the Wind Channel of Echoes until she reaches the North Star’s Ladder of Light, and then climb up, step by step. It will take her a hundred years.”

“What in the world do you mean by Wind Channels and Ladders of Light?” demanded Meg, crossly.

“You have roads on the ground in your country,” said Bizzybuzz. “We have roads in the air. Isn’t that quite simple? We have the Wind Channel of Echoes and the Tree-Top Pathway and the Road of Clouds for times of storm; and the Moon-Wake when we want to cross the water and are too tired to fly. Sometimes we lose our way and have a dreadful time getting to shelter before daylight! As for the Ladder of Light, every star has a ladder leading straight up to it if only you can find it. The North Star is the hardest of all to reach, for it is so very far and cold, and the people there will receive only witches or air-spirits. They are very exclusive! The Witch of Silence will be welcome. She and the oracle will sit opposite each other for two hundred and seventy years, and then she will be truly wise, so she will climb down the Ladder of Light and go into her hollow tree again.”

The white owl with the witch suddenly swerved off toward the right, and flapped away into the mists.

“Now I wonder why he did that!” murmured Bizzybuzz, anxiously. “He must have had a reason. They’ve gone toward the Road of Clouds. That’s it!” he exclaimed; [Pg 17]“there’s a storm coming up! That’s the reason! Hear the thunder! Fly, Moon-Eyes, fly!” And he buzzed around their owl’s head excitedly. “Fly as you never flew before, and give the signal for ‘Way for the owl-carriers!’”

The owl gave a long, weird call, “Too-hoo-hoo-hoo-oo-oo!” that sounded along the Wind Channel of Echoes in a thousand different tones. Other cries answered it,—some near, some far; and the thunder growled louder and louder.

“Everyone is going toward the Owls’ Inn,” cried Bizzybuzz. “Turn in there, Moon-Eyes; the storm is going to be a sharp one!”

The owl swept to the left, and dropped suddenly to earth. Bizzybuzz helped the children off, and they found themselves on a rocky ledge in the side of a cliff. Just before them was a dark cave or hole in the cliff, in the depths of which were glowing many owl-eyes.

“Hurry in!” ordered Bizzybuzz. And they all, including the owl, entered the cave.

“This,” declared their Goblin friend, “is the hostelry which is known to every flying thing of every land, and which has been here since eight thousand years before the beginning of the world: it is the famous Owls’ Inn.”

The storm broke, sounding like a cannon-ball rolling against a thousand giant ninepins. The rain gushed out of the sky like water from a trough, the winds screamed, and the lightning flashed in forks and zigzags of green and gold and purple and diamond-white against the big banks of clouds.

The children would have been frightened at any other time, but now the storm seemed only part of the excitement and queerness of everything. It went with the owls and the wind channels, and the rest of the strange things with which they had come in contact for the first time.

Bizzybuzz took a tiny lantern from somewhere in his laced-up doublet, and set it on the ground. It seemed to light itself instantly, giving out greenish blue rays.

“Fire from the marshes,” he explained. “Goblin-fire! Isn’t it pretty?”

The children looked about them, staring at the occupants of the Owls’ Inn with great curiosity.

“This is the Owl Innkeeper, known as the Tail-less One,” declared Bizzybuzz, with a wave of his hand.

The Owl Innkeeper bowed politely, though very solemnly. He was a large, fine owl, but he had no tail-feathers at all.

“Carriers,” said Bizzybuzz. “The owls are the chief carriers,—steeds,—conveyances,—what you like,—for the Make Believe People. Of course some sprites use bats or smaller birds, and the very little elves have a liking for moths. But most of us Make-Believers prefer the owls. They are the biggest and strongest and most steady, and then they are very patient, and so wise!”

“Oh, he is,” said Bizzybuzz, “and wise. Dear, dear! How very wise he is, to be sure!”

The owls talked little, but looked volumes. They sat around in rows, staring unblinkingly with their great shining eyes. Every minute a new one would flap heavily into the cave, settle down, and begin to stare like the others.

“Did I ever tell any of you how I lost my tail-feathers?” asked the Owl Innkeeper, at last, in a sad deep voice.

“Then listen,” said the Owl Innkeeper, solemnly. “For it is my best story, though very painful to me.”

He settled himself down in the centre of the cave, and blinked three times, by way of a preface.

“Did I ever see a ghost?” said the Owl Innkeeper. “My eyes and feathers! Yes! Hundreds, thousands of them. That is one of the very easiest things we owls do. We can see all sorts of things that you can’t, because we can see in the dark. Cats do the same, and bats. And the dark is always full of ghosts. If you could see in the dark, you would see ghosts too!”

“Yes,—because if we could see in the dark, we’d be owls or cats or bats ourselves!” laughed Meg.

“The owls,” explained their feathered friend, solemnly, “have no sense of humor, so that is lost on me.”

“Oh, go on, please!” urged Bab, who was really anxious to hear the ghost-story.

“Well,” proceeded the owl, “I once lived in a yew-tree [Pg 24]near an old house,—oh, a very old house! It was peopled only by ghosts, and a horrid lot they were,—ill natured and even quite savage sometimes. And they were so strong, through living so many hundreds of years undisturbed, that they were really almost quite solid, like real people.

“Well, one day the old place was bought by a young man, who laughed when they told him that it was haunted. I didn’t laugh. I felt quite worried, for I like young people (when they don’t make too much noise in the daytime), and I did not know what those horrid ghosts would do to that poor lad. So, the night he moved in, I moved in too; that is, I sat on the window-sill, where I could see everything that went on inside.

“Dinner was served by a man-servant, and there were lights and shiny things on the table, and wine, and a smell of cooked food, and queer enough it did seem, to be sure! Suddenly, just as the young man was helping himself to the roast, in walked one of the head ghosts,—an old fellow in armour he was, with a sinfully ugly face.

“‘I always did like beef,’ said he, as bold as brass, ‘so I’ll take some!’ and he picked the roast off the silver platter the man was holding, and began to eat it—right in his fingers!

“The servant’s eyes bulged out of his head, and I could see his knees giving way. Suddenly down went the silver platter, and out of the house he went, and the other servants after him. I knew they were gone for good! But my young friend at the table looked at his visitor quite calmly.

“‘This is very good in you,’ he said. ‘I was feeling a bit lonely this evening, all by myself. What will you have to drink?’

“Well, they ate and drank together amiably enough for a while, but by and by the other ghosts began to come in by twos and threes, and I soon saw there was bound to be trouble.

“‘Now, young man,’ said the old fellow in armour, when he had about thirty of his own kind to back him up. ‘We want you to get out. We have owned this house for three hundred and fifty-three years, two months, four days, five hours, seventeen minutes, and half a second. Now, we don’t propose to have you here, disturbing us. Get out!’

“‘That I will not!’ said the young man, with a good show of spirit. ‘It’s you who will get out, you old wretch—’

“Then the ghosts set upon him, all of them at once, and I was sure they would smother him or tear him limb from limb. So into the room I flew, tu-whooing at the top of my lungs. The ghosts all scattered and stood still at the sound, for they all respect an owl. You know an owl’s feather is the only thing that will make a ghost entirely alive again.

“The young man got up from the floor panting. I settled down on the dinner-table and addressed the room. I won’t repeat to you my discourse, but it was an admirable one. I have often wished that it might be published. I tried to induce those ghosts to let the boy alone; but they were firm and very angry, and after a while they all flew at him again—in spite of everything I had said! I flapped my way into the [Pg 26]thick of the fight, and tried to beat and peck them off. Then, growing quite desperate, I cried, ‘If you will go away, I will give a feather to the leader.’

“That stopped them for a bit, and I let the armoured ghost pull out a tail-feather. Then others came around me and demanded feathers, and, one by one, they pulled and pulled until I was quite tail-less!

“The old leader became human first. And he said, looking longingly at the young man, ‘Now that we’re all men together, I’d dearly love to finish that upstart!’

“‘I appeal to your honour as a gentleman and a ghost!’ I cried; though I trembled in my remaining feathers, for, to tell the truth, he did not look overburdened either with honour or gentlemanliness. But he shook his head regretfully, and then they all departed together and went to a tailor-shop, I suppose, to buy themselves some up-to-date clothes.

“‘Well,’ said the young man to me, ‘I’m sure I’m tremendously obliged to you, and I wish I could do something for you in return. But I can’t give you back your tail-feathers, and I don’t suppose it would be any use to even offer you a drink! You’ve really done me a great service.’

“‘Don’t mention it, sir!’ replied I, with a flourish. But just then I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the big mirror, and I blushed all over my beak and claws. However, I left the room slowly and with as much dignity as I could, and I heard the young man suppress a giggle as I went. I really could not blame him!

“And that,” concluded the Owl Innkeeper, sadly and impressively, “is the true story of how I lost my tail-feathers!”

“I think he was horrid to let you give up your tail-feathers just to save him!” exclaimed Bab, indignantly.

“I think myself,” said the owl, “that he might have—well—protested.”

“Hark!” said Meg. They noticed for the first time that the noise of wind and rain and thunder had died down.

“The storm is over,” announced one of the owls at the door. “Come, brothers, it is high time to be off!”

The cave was filled with the sound of rushing wings, and a minute later the three children found themselves again mounting their feathered steed.

“Good-bye, good-bye!” called the Owl Innkeeper, from the entrance of the cave. “May you keep all your feathers until you are old, and always have plenty of mice for supper!”—which, after all, was the best sort of a wish he knew how to make!

This time they were so tired that they fell asleep at once, with the fresh, damp winds blowing over them. And they seemed to have but just closed their eyes when Bizzybuzz waked them. As they stared about them sleepily, the air seemed full of a shining silver light.

“Look!” said Bizzybuzz, pointing. “Look your last upon your own country for some time to come, for we have passed over the border, and are now in Make Believe Land.”

Stretching far, far away—to the very edge of the world, [Pg 28]it seemed—lay a country which in this clear pale light looked dark and dull and ugly. There were mountains there, but in the distance they seemed to be nothing but a lot of stupid little bumps.

“That is your own country,—what some people call the Real World,” said Bizzybuzz. “Now look beneath you!”

Beneath them were clouds of pink and gold and sky-blue and violet and pale green. Here and there a tall tower shot up, shining through the rainbow colours. In other places there was the gleam of silver water.

“That is part of Make Believe Land,” said Bizzybuzz, “and a very important part, too: the City of Dreams. Some day you shall go there, if you like, and see the Garden of Good Dreams and the Forest of Nightmares. That city is on the dividing line between the Real World and Make Believe Land. See where the coloured clouds begin! First they are gray and dull,—that is because they are still on the side of the Real World; then they grow bright and lovely, for they are floating, as we are, over the City of Dreams.”

The owl flew on faster and faster. All sorts of wonderful things glimmered past beneath: forests of silver trees with fruit of gold, meadows with jewels for flowers, green woodland places from which the softest magical music rose forever, dreamy gardens, and marvellous rivers; and still on and on they went.

“Ah!” exclaimed Bizzybuzz, and his voice sounded quite frightened. “Look well now, for this is a place which you will hear of very soon again: this is the Sea of Glass!”

The Sea of Glass was broad and gleaming. There was something very queer about its motionless, shiny surface. It was still a little distance away, but just under them was a city built entirely of some bright red stuff. It glittered scarlet in the soft light.

“That,” said Bizzybuzz, in a shuddering whisper, “is the terrible Red City,—the City of the Wicked King!”

They wanted to ask more about it, but there were too many things at which to look. I could not even try to describe to you that wonderful flight over Make Believe Land. The children never forgot it, and among their many strange adventures it really made the greatest impression,—perhaps because it was the first.

At last they found themselves flying over a wooded country, where there were quaint little houses and funny animals,—and even groups of people, all in Kate Greenaway costumes. It seemed homelike and commonplace, and really comforting after all the mists and towers and rivers and seas they had seen, and they asked eagerly, “What is this place?”

“This,” answered their guide, “is Mother Goose’s own country, and you are at your journey’s end.”

The owl dropped to the earth like a piece of lead, and the three children, clambering off, found themselves in a little forest glade in front of a cottage,—a cottage that was small and quaint and pretty, with old-fashioned latticed windows, and a trim gay garden in front. Bizzybuzz went to the door, and rapped upon it with his queer wee hand, crying, “Open, Mother, open! I have brought you the three mortal children whom you sent me to get!”

“You have been a long time on your journey,” said a voice within. “Enter, all!” and the door opened.

There stood a very, very old woman, tall but bent, leaning on a stick, and dressed as the old picture-books always show Mother Goose. She wore a flowered gown, and a ruffled cap [Pg 34]under a tall, black sugar-loaf hat, a white kerchief, and mits. Her shoes had big buckles and high heels, and she wore a pretty apron with pockets in it. Her hair was very white, and her face was the sweetest that the children had ever seen, but just now she looked rather stern. At her side stood an enormous, snow-white goose.

“Enter,” she said again; and they all went into the cottage,—except the owl, who had gone to sleep outside.

Inside everything was so clean and bright that it looked as though it must be a brand-new doll-house. Mother Goose was evidently a very neat, even a fussy old lady; for each little thing was in place, and scoured, and polished, and rubbed, and scrubbed, and brushed, and cleaned, and dusted, and washed, and generally taken care of, until it shone. Mother Goose’s feather duster hung on the wall, her gleaming kettle was boiling busily, and her big china teapot and funny old-fashioned cups were so clean that they caught the light and glittered like something much finer than mere china. In the smoky little fireplace was a crane, with a pot hanging on it; a pair of quaint old bellows were fastened to a peg near by. In the little latticed windows were fresh white muslin curtains and some pots of flowers. Overhead a little bird sang gaily in a cage.

“Stand in a row,” commanded Mother Goose. They all obeyed, feeling a tiny bit afraid. She sat down with her foot on a footstool, put on her spectacles and gazed at them.

“And now,” she said, very solemnly and reproachfully, [Pg 35]“what have you to say for yourselves,—three little mortal children who have never believed in ME?”

For a moment they were silent, not knowing what to say; then Dick exclaimed: “Gracious! Are you really real, after all?”

“I am one of the queens of Make Believe Land,” answered Mother Goose, looking at him very steadily out of her bright dark eyes, “and my kingdom stretches far, far into the Real World. All the children of the world are my rightful subjects and entitled to my protection. But you—you are outlaws! You have committed the crime of Unbelief and you must suffer! That is why you have been brought to Make Believe Land.”

The three children were more frightened than ever. What would their punishment be? Then Bab looked up into Mother Goose’s face, and saw the really kind look that was shining in her eyes, back of the sternness. Suddenly Bab felt that she loved her, and she cried out impulsively, “Oh, I’m glad you’re real, after all!”

“You are a dear little girl,” she said, “and you shall play with my goose if you want to!” Then she looked stern again. “Just the same,” she added, “you as well as the others must learn your lesson and be punished. All this time you have not believed in me, nor loved me, nor been my little girl, so you must be punished as severely as the rest.”

“A little while ago,” said Mother Goose, “you—little girl with the fair hair—said unkind things about the Fairy Queen. You will have to travel all by yourself to Fairyland, and serve the Queen faithfully for a year or a day, or until you do her so great a service that she sets you free of her own accord.”

“I won’t go,” she declared. “Fairies are silly, and there aren’t any, anyway!”

“Treason!” he squeaked. “Heresy! Oh, Lady Queen, dear Mother Goose! Do not kill her for saying such a terrible thing in Make Believe Land!”

“No,” said Mother Goose, gravely, “I will not kill her, but her journey must be just ten times harder for every word of that sort that she has ever said.”

“You called Santa Claus a Bore!” she said. “Santa Claus! Well, little lady, you will have to journey to his dwelling-place, and whatever may happen to you, you will not be bored! And there you must stay until he sets you free, which he can only do after you have been of some great service to him.”

“And you,” said Mother Goose, still more sternly, turning to Dick,—“you laughed at ME!”

“Yes, I did!” said little Dick, stoutly. “But I don’t [Pg 37]see why that was so very dreadful. I’d never seen you then, you see, and how could I know that you were real? I shouldn’t laugh at you now, of course,” he added politely.

“Wouldn’t you? That is very nice of you!” said Mother Goose; and her eyes twinkled. “Well, Master Dick, at least you are honest and straightforward, and I think that some day we may be friends,—even though I am ‘a regular old goose, and no mistake!’”

“That’s what I said,” he admitted. “But I’m sure I beg your pardon!”

“Now pay close attention,” said Mother Goose, growing very serious indeed. “I am in great trouble, and your task, because you laughed at me, is to serve me, and help me out of all my worries. My dear son, Humpty Dumpty, has been a prisoner in the city of the Wicked King for three hundred and three years. They have turned him into an egg, and they keep him sitting up on the city wall from one century’s end to another.”

“It’s a long, sad story,” answered Mother Goose, with a sigh. “All you need know now is that he was angry with my poor Humpty Dumpty, and turned him into an egg. And my son has to spend all his time balancing himself on that wall, and if he should ever fall he would be broken! You don’t know how afraid I am that some day he will fall and be broken!” And a tear ran down Mother Goose’s nose.

“Worst of all,” she said with a choke, “the people come out and laugh at him!”

“Well, that’s a shame,” said Dick, sympathetically. “It must be pretty unpleasant to balance yourself on a wall for three hundred and three years, especially if you are an egg!”

“You’re a boy,” said Mother Goose, “and I’ve heard you are supposed to be bright. You ought to be able to think of a way. And anyway, it’s just possible”—she paused and looked from one to the other—“it’s just possible that your sisters will be able to help you later. They have their own work to do first, but perhaps when that is done they will find time to help you. In any case, what you must remember is that the rescue of Humpty Dumpty is the thing which I wish more than anything else. Now go, all of you, and let me see how well you can obey orders and do your duty. Remember, you must not forget what each of you has been sent for, you must hurry as fast as you can, and you must not stop on the way. Good-bye, mortal children; I shall be as glad as you when you are all safe back again!”

She waved her stick, and they all hurried out of the cottage. While Bizzybuzz woke up the owl, they looked back into the room they had just left. Mother Goose was standing there with her big white goose. As they looked, she smiled,—such a beautiful, sweet, kindly smile! And somehow they knew then that nothing very terrible was [Pg 39]going to happen to them in Make Believe Land. Then the cottage door closed, and Bizzybuzz told them to climb on the owl again.

“We are going to lunch with Moon-Eyes first,” said Bizzybuzz. “Then I shall lead you to the Wonderful Wood, and see you all three off on your journeys.”

Another second and they were once more speeding through the air. This time the flight was a short one, for they only crossed the little glade, and went about a hundred feet down a sort of avenue that the forest trees had made, to a huge oak-tree. It was the biggest tree that they had ever seen, and Bizzybuzz explained that the wild things that lived in it—Moon-Eyes among others—were very proud of its size and beauty. Into its topmost branches flew the great owl, and alighted on a small bough just under a big hole in the trunk. And there at the entrance of the hole was sitting a very pretty silver-gray owl, much smaller than the carriers. She moved her wings softly up and down, and said, “How do you do?” most politely.

Bizzybuzz cried, “Let me present you to the Lady Gray-Wing!” and bowed low to their hostess,—for evidently this was Moon-Eyes’ wife.

Lady Gray-Wing invited them to enter, and they all went into the hole in the oak-tree, and sat down around the lunch that the pretty gray owl had prepared for them.

They had acorns, and nuts, and blackberries, and queer, [Pg 40]good herbs, and raw mushrooms, and sorrel, and rain-water served in big, silvery plantain leaves. Really everything tasted better than the meals that they had been used to eating at home. These funny woodsy things seemed much nicer than their regular suppers of eggs and jam and bread and milk, and they ate as much as they dared without being rude or greedy. Gray-Wing explained rather timidly that she had not given them mice for lunch, because she understood that mortals did not care for them much.

There was only one other guest,—a very merry and frisky red squirrel, who chattered away all the time they were eating, and begged them to come and lunch with him if they should ever be in that neighbourhood again.

And then Moon-Eyes carried them away, and took them a long, long distance, over a high rocky hill, and toward another wood, much deeper and darker and bigger than the one they had left. There, at the edge of this forest, their owl friend set them down, and bade them good-bye by nodding at them solemnly.

“You are now,” said Bizzybuzz, “at the edge of the Wonderful Wood. Each of your three ways lies through it.” “Are we all going together?” cried Meg, eagerly.

“You all go by the same path,” said Bizzybuzz. “But it is not only in Make Believe Land that many people travel the same path and all travel alone.”

A pathway lay before them leading into the Wonderful Wood. The three children stood for a moment looking down it, and wondering what adventures they were to have there; then they waved good-bye to Bizzybuzz, and ran into the wood.

No sooner were they on the path, in the shadows of the trees, than a strange thing happened. Each seemed to be quite alone! Where were the other two? They called to each other, but not even an echo answered. Only, far behind and dying away, each could hear the anxious voice of Bizzybuzz:

“Remember! Be very careful! Be patient, and never forget your errands. You must not forget what each of you has been sent for; you must hurry as fast as you can; you must—not—stop—by the way—”

The moment Bab stepped inside the outer fringe of trees she seemed to be in the densest sort of a forest. As she looked about her, bewildered, she could not even see where she had entered it. The trees and bushes seemed to have closed in tightly behind her, and vines and creepers covered with queer sweet flowers crossed and recrossed the path, and appeared to be growing denser every second. Then, as she glanced ahead, she saw that there was no path at all. She was in the very heart of the wildest of woodland tangles. How should she find her way out? And who would point out to her the road to Santa Claus’s house?

“I wish Wiggles were here!” sighed Bab. “I’m sure there are bears and wolves in this big dark forest, and Wiggles could have frightened them away!”

Then she thought of what Bizzybuzz had said in the nursery when he was trying to teach them how to make believe.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if Wiggles really were with me all the time?” she thought; and aloud she said, “Here, Wiggles, Wiggles, Wiggles!”

But there was no response, and, feeling a little disappointed, she walked on through the Wonderful Wood alone.

It was very still. Not a twig snapped; not a bird sang in the Wonderful Wood. Everything seemed to be asleep. She pushed forward through the thickets, saying to herself: “I must find Santa Claus! I must not forget what Mother Goose said! I must not forget my errand!”

It was hard work, this struggling through the heavy underbrush, and once or twice Bab was obliged to rest. But still she murmured to herself: “I must hurry! I must find Santa Claus!”

Suddenly the way became easier and smoother. In a moment she came out into a little green dell which was filled with music. Looking about her, she saw two little goblins, like Bizzybuzz himself, playing on tiny green instruments that looked like lutes, and singing.

She could not make out all the words of their song, but the general burden seemed to be something like this:

When they saw Bab, they began to make a series of very low bows, crying in sing-song tones, “Come and tell us how charming we are, and we will love you!”

“But I don’t think you are at all charming!” said Bab, truthfully. “I think you are vain and silly, and very ugly indeed!”

“But hear us sing!” cried the creatures. “Listen to our sweet, melodious, marvellous, exquisite, and never-again-to-be-equalled voices!”

And once more they began to sing. This time their song was pretty, and sounded like a tinkling brook mixed with a summer breeze:

Bab thought the music lovely. She forgot where she was, and begged them to sing another song. Then suddenly her heart bounded hard. She remembered her errand!

And she turned and ran away as fast as she could, leaving the goblins still singing.

Soon she found herself in a cool, shadowy garden, where a fountain played softly, reflecting the big, heavy-headed roses that climbed up the edge of the marble basin to peep into the water. It was very restful and delicious there, and Bab was hot and tired. She wanted to sit down on the grass and rest, but she thought of Mother Goose, and prepared to plod on. Then she saw coming toward her a very beautiful lady, with a delightful, smiling face, and a little crown on her yellow hair. She wore a green dress, and her feet were bare, but Bab knew at once that she was a princess.

“How do you do?” said the Princess, smiling. “You are Bab, the little mortal girl, aren’t you? Will you rest in my garden for a little while?”

“I—I can’t,” said Bab, shyly. “I have to go on. I’m looking for Santa Claus.”

“Oh, he lives ever so far away!” she said, with a wave of her hand. “You’d much better stay with me!”

“They call me the Idle Princess,” the lady answered. “I have a great many names, but no one has ever discovered my real one.”

“Even there!” she said. “Now let us sit down on the grass and make daisy chains.”

So they did; and the fountain played softly, and Bab fancied she could hear Klang and Tinkle singing in the wood on the other side of the garden wall:

“Oh, Princess!” she cried, “it must be late; and I had forgotten my errand!”

She began to run across the grass as fast as she could; then she remembered that she had not thanked her hostess, and stopped. The Idle Princess was at her side.

“Oh, yes!” sighed Bab. “And oh, Princess! could you tell me the way to Santa Claus’s house?”

“Just jump down on the other side and go straight ahead,” she told her. “I am sorry I cannot go with you to show you the way, but I have to spin six dreams before supper. Good-bye! I’ll see you again some day. Kiss me!”

“Good-bye, dear Princess, and thank you!” she cried. But the Idle Princess had gone!

Bab hurried on through the Wonderful Wood, determined not to let anything else tempt her to stop again. The way seemed clear and open now. The trees grew wider apart, and from somewhere a soft sunset light was stealing through them.

Suddenly Bab heard a great voice yawning, and through the bushes stalked a tall, gray man, with a long beard, and big solemn eyes. He stared at Bab, and Bab stared at him.

Truly this Make Believe Land was a queer place! She would expect to meet the Man in the Moon next, or the Old Woman who Sweeps the Cobwebs off the Sky!

“You may meet them both, if you like,” said her new acquaintance, though she had not spoken.

“There are many, many, many, many things you do not know,” remarked the Sand Man, so calmly that she could not call him rude, though she felt rather uncomfortable. She resolved to make friends with this queer creature. He was not merry and sweet, like the dear Idle Princess, but he looked as though he knew a great deal, and she felt quite a respect for him.

“I wonder,” she said timidly, “if you would tell me why they call you the Sand Man.”

“Sit down,” he said gravely, “and I will tell you. But you must be very still while I talk.”

“Where I live,” he said, speaking in a low, slow voice, “there is a whole world of sand. It doesn’t lie out flat, like the desert, but in heaps and hills and waves, like the moors or the ocean. And down in the hollows it is soft and dark and cool, but up on the tops of the hillocks it is warm and bright. And when you lie on one of these hillocks, and look up at the blue, hot sky, a little lazy wind comes stealing along, and shifts the sand ever so slightly, and it begins to slide—and slide—and slide very softly, and you slide with it until—”

“If you do, it is all the better,” said the Sand Man, calmly. “You will understand me much more clearly when you are asleep.” And he went on:

“You slide—and slide—and slide, quite gently, down into the cool, dark, soft hollow, and when you are there the wind blows the sand over you, until only your face is left outside, and at last you begin to sink, down—down—down into the sand. And the sand closes over you, and lies quite coolly and lightly on you everywhere. And you can’t open your eyes, but you wouldn’t if you could. And you can’t move, but you don’t want to move. And you can’t breathe, but you don’t have to breathe. And so you just lie in the heart of World of Sand, and that is—Sleep”....

... Dimly Bab could see the World of Sand, like a great, [Pg 53]gray-brown sea. The wind, stealing over it, stirred little rivers of sand, that slipped from the tops to the hollows. There was shade and shine there, and the hollows looked like cool, dark couches sheltered from the light.... Then she found herself lying in the sand, while the wind blew it over her. She had forgotten her errand, forgotten Santa Claus, forgotten Mother Goose, forgotten her brother and sister, forgotten everything. All she thought of was the sand and the wind, and that slow, delicious sinking—down—down—down—which was—Sleep....

A sound came to her sharply,—a sound that was very familiar. She could not rouse herself at once, but it came again and again, and finally Bab started up blinking. Something was pulling excitedly at her dress, stopping at intervals to bark wildly. Bab put out her arms with a cry of joy.

For a full minute they kissed each other, and Bab talked, and Wiggles squealed and barked and wriggled, and they had a splendid time. Then once again Bab remembered.

“It’s dark!” she cried, springing up. “Where is the Sand Man? Why—Oh, Wiggles, Wiggles! you saved me! I should have gone to sleep in the World of Sand, and never waked up any more, if you hadn’t happened along!”

Then she started again. “Happen along!” she said. “No—I really am beginning to understand things at last. Wiggles has been with me all the time, just as Bizzybuzz said, [Pg 54]only I was too stupid to see him before! Oh, Wiggles, dear, forgive me! And now we must really, truly hurry! What shall I say to Mother Goose if she asks me if I have been faithful and obedient! Oh, dear! I’ve stopped by the way so many times, I shall never find the way to Santa Claus’s house!” And poor Bab wiped away a tear, and started off upon her journey once more, followed by Wiggles. But before she had gone a dozen steps, she stopped short in surprise. The forest had vanished, and she was at the foot of a steep hill. It looked bare and stony, but the top was covered with snow. The sky was full of stars, and the wind was cold and fresh. Here and there firs and pine-trees swayed slightly. Evidently she was in some far Northern land. “Oh! oh!” she exclaimed delightedly; “this must be the country of Santa Claus, after all!”

Losing no more time, she and Wiggles began to climb the long, dark hill, toward the snow that glistened in the starlight far away at the top.

After Bab and Wiggles had reached the top of the hill, and floundered through a space packed with snow, they found themselves in a clump of fir-trees, with the wind whirling about them, and, not far away, the yellow twinkle of a light. Of course Bab intended to go straight on toward the light, but first she paused to take breath. And as she paused, she heard a little voice, quite close to her, exclaim: “Oh, dear! Oh, dear! What do you suppose it is?”

“What do I suppose what is?” said Bab, with a start, forgetting to be polite.

There was a slight scramble, and a patter of very tiny feet; and then Wiggles began to bark excitedly, with his ears cocked forward, and his bright eyes fixed on the ground.

“We—we weren’t talking to you,” explained the wee voice, nervously. “We were talking about you when we said ‘What is it?’”

“Certainly!” said the little voice, more cheerfully. “We are the Mischief Brownies,—servants of the dear Wicked King, of the Red City. And you, I suppose, are an ogre?”

“Nonsense!” said the Mischief Brownie. “We know better! You’re big! You’re enormous! We know you. You’re an ogre!”

“Where are you going?” asked the voice, anxiously. “You aren’t a friend of Santa Claus, are you?”

“That’s all right, then!” cried the Brownie, gaily. “You can help us in that case!”

A number of little lights appeared in the darkness near the ground. They seemed to be tiny lanterns, and by their light Bab could see the bearers of them. They were wee, wee men, not more than a few inches high, dressed in brown, with green [Pg 59]caps. Their faces were all stamped with wide grins, and their eyes were not unlike Bizzybuzz’s and the Musical Goblins’.

“We’ll teach you six new spells or give you a wishing-cap if you’ll help us,” said the spokesman.

Bab’s heart leaped. A wishing-cap! If she had that, she might go at once to the City of the Wicked King, and help Dick rescue Humpty Dumpty for Mother Goose; and then they could all be free!

“Listen!” said the Head Brownie. “Santa Claus has a Wooden Cow, of which he is very fond. It was only a little toy to begin with, but he fed it with all the shavings and saw-dust of magic wood that were left from his work, and it grew nearly as big as his house! Our master, the Wicked King, has sent us to chop the Wooden Cow up, and bring him back as much of the magic wood as we can carry. That magic wood is very valuable, you see, and very hard to get, and he wants to have some spells made out of it.”

“I never heard of anything so dreadful!” Bab exclaimed indignantly. “Poor cow!”

“It won’t hurt it at all,” explained the Mischief Brownie. “The cow is nothing but wood, you know. Now, what we want you to do is to help us chop up the cow, for we aren’t big enough to do much by ourselves.”

“Indeed, I’ll not help you,” said Bab, decidedly. “I’ll not chop up Santa Claus’s cow, and what’s more,” she cried with a sudden thought, “I’ll save her from you too!”

She began to run as fast as she could, Wiggles scampering ahead, and the Brownies after her. She could hear their shrill voices telling her to stop, but she ran on. Soon she saw that they were going faster than she, and had turned to the right, dashing away through the starlight. They looked like black specks on the white snow. For they had all left the darkness of the clump of fir-trees by this time, and the queer little men were plainly visible.

Faster and faster she went; Wiggles rushing along in front of her, barking loudly. Soon she saw the barn glimmering dimly against the sky. Bab dashed toward it. The Brownies had disappeared; they must be already inside.

“Oh, dear!” cried Bab. “I do so hope I shall get there in time to save that poor cow.”

She had reached the barn, but the big door was shut and fastened. In despair Bab hunted for an opening of some sort, and finally found a low window. She clambered up, very much out of breath, and sat on the window-sill peering into the darkness of the barn. Everything inside was as black as ink, and smelled of saw-dust instead of hay. Where were the Brownies, and where was the Wooden Cow?

A sudden idea came to her. Leaning down, she whispered, “Wiggles, Wiggles, darling, jump!”

Wiggles tried twice in vain. The third time he was in her lap, trembling with excitement. She lifted him down inside the barn, slipping down herself at the same time.

She clapped her hands as she spoke, and Wiggles’s scurrying, scratching feet were heard on the floor in the dark. Bab listened with a beating heart. Wiggles snuffed and snapped and scratched and scampered about, and finally gave an eager bark. At the same moment the air became filled with shrill little startled cries.

She found the barn door, groping through the dark, and managed to open it; and then she watched the whole tribe of Mischief Brownies escaping frantically, and flying over the snow with Wiggles after them.

“Come back, Wiggles,” she called; and the obedient little dog returned to her promptly. He felt quite disappointed at having to give up the chase so soon.

“Now we’ll have to hunt for the Wooden Cow,” said Bab. “I hope they haven’t done it any harm already.”

“They took off one horn,” said a thick wheezy voice near by; and Bab jumped.

“That’s my horn,” said the same voice, “the one that they didn’t take off.”

“Where is the other one?” asked Bab. “They didn’t take it with them, surely?”

Wiggles was sitting in the doorway, cheerfully gnawing the missing horn. Bab rescued it, much to Wiggles’s annoyance, and then exclaimed to its rightful owner, “You poor thing! Did the Brownies hurt you?”

“Oh, no!” said the Cow, calmly. “You know I’m wooden. Nothing hurts me. It wouldn’t have hurt me if they had cut me in pieces as they intended to, and as they would have done if you hadn’t dropped in; but it would have annoyed me. Because then I wouldn’t have existed any more. And that would have been disagreeable!”

“I should think so, indeed!” agreed Bab. “Now let me see how I can get this horn on again! I wish there was a light. Never mind! I’ll hunt about in the dark.”

As a matter of fact, it did not seem nearly so dark as it had been. Bab saw that this was because the moon was rising. By its light drifting in through the big open door, she could see the large, motionless figure of the Wooden Cow, with its one horn.

“I smell paint somewhere,” said Bab, sniffing, and began to hunt for it. Sure enough, not far away, she found a can of black paint.

“Santa Claus used that to touch me up with,” explained the Cow, with a certain mournful pride. “I was a very handsome article when new!”

“Well,” said Bab, cheerfully, “now, I’m going to touch you up with it!”

For she felt very sorry for the poor Wooden Cow, and [Pg 63]already had made up her mind to do all that she could to help it. She scooped up some saw-dust from the floor, and mixed it with the black paint until it made a thick, sticky paste. Then she plastered it on the base of the wooden horn, and then over the place on the Cow’s head from which it had been broken off. Then she stuck the horn on, and tied it up securely with a ribbon from her dress. As she did this, a tiny bit of wood—loosened, perhaps, by whatever weapon or implement the Brownies had used to cut off the horn—came off in her hand. Hardly thinking what she was doing, she dropped it into her pocket.

“There!” she cried gaily, jumping down from the window-sill, where, being quite short, she had had to kneel while she worked,—“There! I really think that will stay on!” As she spoke, she found the bit of wood in her pocket. “I wonder why I kept that?” she thought. “Never mind! I shall want to have something to remember the Wooden Cow by.”

“Now,” said Bab, “I shall have to go up to Santa Claus’s house, and call upon him. I’ll leave Wiggles to take care of you in case those bad Brownies come back. Wiggles, sit down and keep watch!”

Wiggles did as he was told, rather sadly. He hated to be left alone, and he did not count the Cow as company. Bab left the barn, and hurried away toward the lighted cottage, which she felt very sure was Santa Claus’s house.

When she reached the house, she knocked several times before anyone answered. At last the door opened, and a kind, merry voice said: “Come in, come in! Is that Bab? Why, bless my soul! I’ve been expecting you for a long time!”

It certainly was Santa Claus! How exactly like his pictures he looked! No, kinder, and dearer, and more lovable in every way. Bab wanted to get onto his knee at once, and put her head down on his shoulder, just as though he were her own grandfather at home. And as a matter of fact, that is just exactly what she did! For as soon as she had gone inside and the door had been shut, Santa Claus sat down in a big chair and lifted her onto his lap.

“Bless my soul!” he said again, beaming at her. “So you are the little girl who didn’t believe in me, and thought I’d be a bore if I were real? Mother Goose—dear lady!—said that you’d be along before very long.”

Bab dropped her head onto his shoulder, and said, “I—I’m very sorry I said those things about you!”

“Bless my soul!” exclaimed Santa Claus. “She’s crying! That will never do!”

“I’m sleepy!” Bab gave a sob. She was only a little girl, you see, after all; and the way through the Wonderful Wood had been long. “And—and—” She stopped, trying not to really cry.

And somehow, before she knew what had happened, she found herself eating,—bread and butter, and milk, and little hot cakes, and muffins, and preserves, and sugar-plums! Such a good supper!

“Please,” said Bab, suddenly, “let me take some to Wiggles. He’s hungry, I know; and he’s in the barn, taking care of the Wooden Cow.”

And then Bab told him all about the rescue of the Wooden Cow. And Santa Claus was much pleased and interested, and seemed very grateful as well. And he went down to the barn himself, and brought Wiggles back with him, and gave him a wonderful supper, and said he was a splendid dog. And Wiggles was simply delighted.

Altogether, everything was going on in the most joyful manner possible, when Bab suddenly sprang to her feet, distressed and worried.

“Oh, Santa Claus!” cried poor Bab. “I had forgotten my errand again! Mother Goose sent me to you to serve you until I had won the right to go back to the Real World!”

“Dear, dear!” said Santa Claus, with twinkling eyes. “And do you want to start to-night?”

“No,” said Bab, reproachfully. “No,—indeed! But,” anxiously, “tell me what I am to do, Santa Claus. You see, now I sha’n’t be doing it only because Mother Goose [Pg 66]told me I must, but because you have been so kind to Wiggles and me!”

Then Santa Claus gazed at her with such wonderful kindness in his smile that she felt almost bewildered.

“Little Bab,” he said gently, “don’t you see that you have won your freedom already, if you want it, by what you did for my Wooden Cow?”

“But—but—” stammered Bab, very much surprised, “I didn’t do it for that reason!”

“I know it. And that is just why it sets you free,” said Santa Claus. “And now go to sleep. To-morrow you may go back to Mother Goose.”

Bab felt very sleepy. The firelight was flickering drowsily about the room. She and Wiggles were curled up on a big fur rug that lay beside the hearth. Santa Claus’s face smiled at her in the dancing, fading red light.

Then she and Wiggles went fast asleep by the big fire in the house of Santa Claus.

Now we must leave Bab for a little while, and go back to her sister Meg, whom we left on the edge of the Wonderful Wood.

“It’s all nonsense!” said Meg to herself, as she entered the big forest. She turned to speak to Bab, but of course found herself quite alone. She rubbed her eyes and looked about her wonderingly. It was all nonsense, undoubtedly, but—where were the others? She felt just a wee bit frightened. It was rather creepy, really,—this being alone in the Wonderful Wood.

Well, the only thing to do was to hurry and get out of it, as fast as she possibly could. She wheeled around, but soon saw, as Bab had seen, that the forest had closed in behind her, and that there was nothing to do but go on. So on she went.

She found the path fairly smooth and easy, and her spirits rose. She walked faster and faster, and even sang to herself as she went. She had forgotten all about her errand, all about the Fairy Queen and Mother Goose and Humpty Dumpty. She simply danced along the pretty, shady wood-path, and hummed little songs, and wondered how long it would be before she was out of the forest. Meg was younger than Bab, you see, and even more thoughtless, and so she had all the more to learn and all the farther to go. And it came about that she had walked twice as far as Bab’s whole journey had been, before anything befell her that was at all like an adventure. But when it did happen—Well, it was this way:

She was just beginning to feel a little tired, and a little bored also. There seemed to be no squirrels nor birds to watch, nor any flowers to pick, and the path was as straight as a string, and just about as interesting to Meg!

“Oh, dear!” she exclaimed at last, “I thought I should see all sorts of strange things, and I haven’t seen anything at all yet. I wish something would happen! I wish I could see something queer and excit—”

“How about me?” demanded a voice at her side. Meg stopped short, and she and the owner of the voice stood and stared at each other.

He was a small, evil-looking dwarf, dressed in gray, with skin the colour of his clothes, and a huge hump on his back.

“Grump,” said the stranger. “Grump, the Gray Dwarf. [Pg 71]And of all the creatures in the Wonderful Wood, I am the wickedest!”

Meg felt squirmy and uncomfortable. There was no doubt about it: he did look very wicked indeed!

“That’s good!” said Grump, grinning horribly. “For we are to be comrades for a time!”

“Indeed we are not!” she exclaimed, trying to sound very brave and careless. “You live in the Wonderful Wood, and I am only passing through it,—as quickly as possible,” she added with much feeling.

Something in his look made Meg fear that that might not be so very quickly, after all.

“Come,” continued the Gray Dwarf, holding out a gray hand. “Come with me!”

And, desperately frightened, but feeling in an odd way that she was quite weak and helplessly in the power of her new acquaintance, Meg followed him—where do you think? Into a little black hole in the ground! As she looked down at it, she did not dream that she could get into it, but the Gray Dwarf took her hand, and she found herself slipping in with as much ease as Grump himself.

Down they went through an earthy-smelling passage-way that twisted and turned through utter darkness. The air was damp and heavy and very cold.

“Am I dreaming, after all?” thought Meg. “I feel like a mole,—burrowing into the earth like this!”

It seemed to her that they went a very great distance, stumbling along through the moist ground, with the close earthy smell all about, and no light anywhere. At last the passage suddenly widened out, and opened onto a round space like an underground cave, lighted by a low, green flame that flickered fitfully in one corner.

The walls were all of earth,—fresh, damp earth; and now and then a little would slip down, the way it does from a heap of mould when you’ve been digging in the garden. It fell upon the moist earth-floor at their feet, but it made no sound. There were no echoes in this underground room where the Gray Dwarf lived. Everything was still,—much too still to be pleasant, Meg thought. In the earth-walls were queer little fibrous threads here and there, and overhead some big, pale, thin things hung down, like frozen snakes, or dead, curving tree-branches. At first she could not guess what they all were, but suddenly she saw that they were roots! The roots of trees and plants and shrubs, and all sorts of growing things! She was indeed far down in the earth, since she could look up and see the roots of the Wonderful Wood.

She stood, blinking at the faint green flame, and watched Grump go across to it. By blowing upon it he made it flare [Pg 73]up more brightly, and the vivid emerald light made Meg’s heart go faster than ever. What was going to happen to her? Was she going to be burned up? Grump, having freshened his ghostly fire, proceeded to place on it a huge iron caldron,—the kind that you always think of witches bending over. This horrid-looking thing he brought from a shadowy corner. As soon as the flames touched it, a thick steam began to rise from the big black pot, filling the air with a queer, spicy smell, and curling clouds of purple smoke. Grump gave a long, low cry, and waved his arms over the pot.

The steam came and came, until it hid both Grump and the pot. Then on it Meg saw, as though reflected or sketched very dimly, the figure of a man with glittering eyes, a crown, and a deep red robe. He was looking down at Grump, who, Meg now saw, was crouching at his feet.

“You have done my bidding?” said the shadowy crimson man. “You have stopped the messenger sent from Mother Goose to the Fairy Queen?”

“Yes, O Wicked King. What does his most august and nobly evil Majesty desire done with her?”

“Destroy her!” said the Wicked King. “If she is allowed to go to the Court of the Fairies, she will be taught the spell that frees Humpty Dumpty, and I shall lose both my prisoner and the spell. Destroy her, I say! Put her into the big pot!”

He vanished, and instantly the thick steam cleared away. Meg saw Grump huddled down beside the big pot.

“Put you into the big pot,” said the Gray Dwarf, with a grin of joy. “You heard the Wicked King’s orders.”

Meg gasped, and looked about her for some way of escape. Then she tried to think more calmly, and decided that her one chance lay in gaining time. To do this, she began to talk to the Gray Dwarf as quietly as she could.

“I really think,” she said, “that if you are going to boil me, you might tell me what for.”

Grump considered this for a minute. “Well,” he said at last, “I have no objection to that. You may sit down if you like, and I will explain.”

Meg sat down obediently, though with a quaking heart, and Grump sat opposite her, still beside the pot. The green flames flickered uncannily about him as he talked.

“In the first place,” he began, “you must know that I am in the service of the Wicked King, whom you saw appear just now. He lives in the Great Red City, beside the Sea of Glass, and he keeps Mother Goose’s son Humpty Dumpty a prisoner on his city wall. My master is very great and very [Pg 75]cruel, and I obey him in everything. You know, probably, about the capture of Humpty Dumpty?”

“No, not about the capture,” said Meg. “Only that he was captured. How did it happen?”

“That is a long story. I will only take time to tell you that I had a good deal to do with it!” And he grinned again. “Well, there is only one spell which can set him free, and that spell is in the possession of one person,—the Queen of the Fairies. It is a very valuable spell, and she keeps it carefully hidden. A little while ago, Mother Goose heard of the spell, and she and the Fairy Queen have been sending messages to each other ever since. The Queen has promised to give it to the old lady’s messenger, and that is the chief reason why you are being sent to Fairyland,—to bring back the spell. Now that is one reason why the Wicked King wants to have you killed. Do you see?”

“I suppose so,” said poor Meg, though it did seem rather unfair. “Is there any other reason?”

“Two,” answered Grump, seeming pleased that she saw the matter so clearly. “One is that the Wicked King is planning to steal that spell away from the Queen within another day!”

“But how can he steal a spell?” said Meg, puzzled and interested in spite of her own danger. “I thought a spell was a—a—well, some words, you know, or—anyway, I didn’t know that you could really steal it.”

“Oh, yes!” the Gray Dwarf assured her. “This spell is [Pg 76]written on a piece of sky-coloured paper and kept in a crystal box. Well, the Wicked King is going to have it stolen to-night! Then he can not only keep Humpty Dumpty forever, but he will own the spell besides. A really good spell, you know, is always useful for a great many purposes.”

Meg listened with open eyes. And as she heard these things she thought not only of her own safety, but of poor Humpty Dumpty, who would never be free, and Mother Goose, who must grieve over her son forever, and the good Fairy Queen, who would be robbed of her treasure by the Wicked King. And then she thought of her errand, and Mother Goose’s trust in her; she had forgotten all about what she had been told to do, and she felt ashamed of herself. Perhaps, if she had kept her wits about her as she passed through the Wonderful Wood, and thought steadily of what she had been sent for, she would have escaped the clutches of the cruel Gray Dwarf.

Suddenly she felt that she must get away, if only to warn the Fairy Queen and ask Mother Goose’s pardon. Her determination sharpened her wits. Once more she tried to gain time. She looked about her to find the way by which she had come. The hole in the earth wall looked smaller than ever, and moreover it was some distance away and on the side nearest Grump. There did not seem to be much hope of escape, but she did not feel entirely discouraged.

“You said there was another reason,” she reminded her jailer. Grump had started to blow up the fire again, with [Pg 77]glances of wicked glee in her direction. As she spoke, he stopped and sat down once more.

“Oh, yes!” he said. “Well, the other reason for your death is this: In that caldron is all the magic power I have. It was that which made you obliged to follow me when I stopped you in the Wonderful Wood. It was that which brought me the vision of the Wicked King a few minutes ago. Without it I should be just an ordinary, commonplace, every-day gnome. The contents of the caldron is made of souls,—the souls of all sorts of things,—the soul of a flower, the soul of a tiger, the soul of a butterfly, a nightingale, a lizard, a sea-gull, a snake, a bat, a porcupine, a goblin, an ogre, a dove! All kinds and conditions of souls, you see! But the magic essence will be complete only when the soul of a mortal is added to it. Then my master the King and I shall be the lords of all this land! Therefore you must go into the pot!”

Meg’s heart leaped. She had thought of something! It was a tiny chance, but still a chance.

“Did you say,” she asked, looking at the caldron as though in awe, “that all your power comes from that?”

“Every bit!” he returned. “Why, if that were tipped over—” He stopped short, and looked at her as though he were afraid he might have told her too much. Meg’s heart beat faster and faster, but she managed to speak in a sad, frightened tone:

“Oh, I hate the thought of having my soul used in a magic essence—Oh, must I really be put into the pot?”

She had risen to her feet, and was moving slowly toward the pot, looking very much afraid. Grump had risen too, and was blowing the fire into big, green flames.

“You really must!” he said cheerfully. “It won’t hurt, so you needn’t mind in the least!”

“Oh, I’ll jump—if I really do have to get in,” said Meg, seeming to shrink.

But, instead of jumping into the pot, she threw herself against it with all her weight. It swayed, toppled, and then went over with an awful hiss of steam and a wild leap of wicked, green fire. Meg heard the Gray Dwarf scream with fury and cry: “My power is gone! My magic is gone! What shall I do?”

He was just in front of her, and tried to stop her with a snarl of rage. But she was bigger than he was, and stronger now, and she pushed him away, and plunged past him into the dark passage-way once more.

On—on—up—up she struggled, leaving the green light and Grump’s cries farther and farther behind her. She breathed [Pg 79]the damp, earthy air with joy in spite of its heavy closeness. On—on—up—up!... Suddenly she was in the outer air again, blinking and gasping and covered with clinging earth.

At first she was so glad to be safe that she noticed nothing remarkable; but after a moment she cried out with surprise. The Wonderful Wood had entirely disappeared, and she was standing in a great meadow filled with rainbow flowers more lovely than any mortal ever saw before!

At first Meg thought she was alone, but soon she saw a lady standing near, picking pale yellow blossoms. She wore a green gown, and her feet were bare. On her bright hair was a little crown that seemed made of wee gold stars, and her face was very grave and sweet. Meg went up to her timidly.

“Please,” she said with a catch in her voice, “will you tell me the way to Fairyland? I—I’m in a great hurry.”

“What do you want to do in Fairyland?” said the lady, kindly. “Are you in trouble?”

“N-n-o—that is, a little. I want to tell the Fairy Queen something she ought to know. And I want to let Mother Goose know how sorry I am that I was disobedient [Pg 84]and naughty, and of course if I could I should like to help Dick save Humpty Dumpty.”

“I want Bab and Dick,—that’s all,” said Meg, simply. “And—and—of course I’m sorry, and—and worried about things, you know.”

The lady smiled quite merrily. Then she lifted Meg in her arms and kissed her softly.

“Dear little girl!” she said. “Sweet Meg! you have had a harder journey than Bab, but you are at the end of it.”

“Who—who are you, please?” whispered Meg, wondering that she knew their names.

“You may call me the Lady of Dreams-Come-True,” said the green-gowned stranger. “But that is not my name. Now run along quickly to the Court of the Fairies.”

“Oh, but I am so dusty and dirty!” exclaimed Meg. “I can’t go to Court this way!”

“You have your pink silk dress with you,” said the Lady of Dreams-Come-True, laughing.

Meg looked down in surprise. Over her left arm hung her once-treasured pink gown! Somehow, among these wonderful flowers and beside this beautiful lady, it did not look nearly so pretty as it once had. She let it slip to the ground.

“I must have been very silly,” she said half to herself, “to want to bring that to Make Believe Land!”

“Then you must go to Court as you are,” she said; “but I think that you look very nice!”

Meg looked down again, and saw that her white dress was now as fresh and clean as though it had just been washed.

“Why—why—” she stammered, “how wonderful! It might almost be Fairyland already!”

Over the flowers Meg could see a thousand faint and shining wings. The air shimmered and glinted with them; the flowers swayed softly beneath their fanning. The daintiest, loveliest faces and forms showed dimly between every glistening, misty pair of these wonderful wings.

“Good-bye, Meg,” was all the lady would say. She seemed to be growing transparent and misty herself.

“Oh, yes! yes!” she answered, smiling, and seemed to become a little less distinct. “Some day—some day—” murmured Dreams-Come-True; and straightway vanished into the soft rainbow-tinted air.

As Meg walked on through the Flower Meadow, the delicate wings and faces grew more and more distinct, and seemed to crowd ever closer and closer about her. Everywhere they floated, like faintly coloured mist-wreaths, like the ghosts of big, beautiful butterflies, like flowers made alive. Everywhere [Pg 86]the light glowed, brilliant and yet soft, like a huge, liquid opal. Sometimes it seemed to Meg to be shot with the palest pink, sometimes the purest blue, sometimes the most exquisite green, the clearest yellow, the faintest lavender. And what with the flowers, and the wings, and the magical colours in the air, Meg felt as though she were moving through the heart of a great rainbow.

About her feet and against her dress swayed and bumped the big bright flowers. Some of them were so tall that they touched her shoulders with their sweet, nodding heads; sometimes they were so tiny that she almost stepped on them, though, of course, she tried not to. The sky was filled with rainbow-coloured clouds; a delicious perfume hung everywhere. In the distance rose slender turrets—gold and rose-coloured and snow-white—from the mist of flowers and wings.

And as Meg listened, she could hear any number of voices singing, in the sweetest chorus imaginable, a little, soft song about roses and clouds and dew and star-beams.

There was no doubt about it,—no doubt at all: as the Lady of Dreams-Come-True had said, she really was in Fairyland at last. These airy beings floating and fluttering, singing and crowding on every hand, were certainly the Fairies,—the dainty folk whose Queen she was seeking.

Meg resolved not to loiter any longer in that delicious field, but to hurry across it as fast as she could and to find the Queen. But when she tried to move more quickly, she found that the soft transparent forms were holding her back. She [Pg 87]struggled for a minute or two in vain. She felt hands as light as rain-drops on her wrists, and at last she heard a high, sweet laugh. Then the clearest of bell-like voices said:

“Well, Mortal, what are you doing here? And why do you struggle so hard against the Fairy Folk?”

“Not so fast, Mortal! That is easy to ask. Do you think our Queen is so easy to see? You must state your business.”

“I must see the Queen!” cried Meg. “It—it’s very important! It’s”—speaking with a sort of rush—“it’s about the Wicked King, and the spell in the crystal box!”

Instantly an angry chorus filled the air, and Meg found herself held more tightly than before.

“How dare she?” cried the Fairies. “How dare she speak of the Wicked King and the spell here? She must know either the Wicked King or Grump!”

“Grump! Grump! She knows him! She admits it! Away with her! She shall not live another hour! No—no—turn her into a rat or an oyster! She is a friend of our dear Lady’s enemy, the Gray Dwarf!”

“Indeed I’m not a friend of Grump’s!” exclaimed Meg, indignantly. “You just ask him if I am!”

But they would not listen to her, and she felt herself being hurried away, faster and faster and faster with every second, until she was sure she should die if they did not let her stop to take breath.

“Please—please—” she panted, as they pulled her along, “I can explain if you will just wait one moment!” But they were far too busy abusing her, to hear a word she said.

“Oh, dear, dear, dear!” sighed poor Meg to herself. “Grump must be a nasty person, if just mentioning his name has this effect!”

As she was dragged along through the Flower Meadow, she kept repeating over and over: “I must see the Queen! I must tell her! I must warn her!” And suddenly—she never knew how, but she suspected Mother Goose or Dreams-Come-True of having something to do with it—she really did break from the grasp of her captors and dash on across the field alone.

She could hear the sweet, excited voices of the Fairies, and could feel their wings fan the back of her neck as they followed her. But at that moment she caught sight of a low, flowery hedge, with a gateway made of two tall trees wreathed with blossoming vines, and through that gate she dashed, just as the Fairies behind her cried:

“She has gone into the Palace Garden! She has gone into the Queen’s presence! How dare she!”

Meg was in the loveliest place she had ever seen, but [Pg 89]she was too frightened to think of its magical beauty just then. By the time the Fairy Folk came crowding into the Garden after her, she had espied a lady sitting on a throne, with giant roses all about, and Fairy Court-ladies standing in rows with folded wings.

“Yes,” said the beautiful lady. And all the Fairies stopped and stood motionless as she spoke. She had great shining wings that moved up and down, trembling like flower-petals, and her face gleamed with a wonderfully sunny smile; and sometimes she swayed a little, like a very tall lily in a high wind. And no one could say what colour her eyes were, nor what sort of features she had. But one knew at once that she was surely the Queen of the Fairy Folk.

“Yes,” she said again. “I am the Queen. What is it that you wish of me?”

“Oh, your Majesty!” cried the Fairies who had followed Meg; and they all bent low, and spread out their wings as she spoke—just the way a bird sometimes does, close to the ground, when it begins to rain,—“Oh, your Majesty! Do not listen to her! She is a friend of the Gray Dwarf and the Wicked King!”

“Is that true?” asked the Queen, bending over Meg, and flashing her eyes at her until she felt as though she were looking deep into two huge stars.

“Oh!” exclaimed the Fairies, angrily. “How truly wicked she is! And how she lies! She told us she was a friend of theirs!”

“I said I knew Grump,” said Meg, ready to cry. “I never said he was my friend. He’s dreadful, and tried to kill me; and as for the Wicked King, I only saw him in some magic pot-steam!”

“What is all this about?” asked the Queen, frowning slightly. “Come, little girl, tell your story; we will listen.”

So Meg told her story from the time she met the Gray Dwarf. The Queen was much interested, and she thanked her for warning her about the Wicked King’s wish to steal her valuable spell. And the Fairies who had wanted to turn Meg into a rat or an oyster looked very much ashamed of themselves, and hung down their wings in a very humble manner.

“But,” said the Queen, “how did it happen that you, a little mortal girl, were travelling through the Wonderful Wood alone, so very, very far from your own country?”

Then Meg remembered her real errand, and explained at greater length, telling all about Mother Goose’s directions, and everything from the very beginning. At last it was all told, and the Queen sat for a space in silence, as though considering what she had heard.

At last she sent two of the Fairies for the crystal box containing the spell. When they returned, bearing it between them, she opened the little casket, and took out of it a roll of paper as blue as the sky, covered with writing that glowed like orange fire.

“I—I think so—partly,” said Meg, doubtfully. “But what am I to do with it, please?”

“Take it to your brother,” said the Queen. “With it he can free Humpty Dumpty, and fulfil Mother Goose’s command. He has only to read it to Humpty Dumpty, at the same time striking the great egg-shell with something hard and sharp, and the young prince will be free, and in his own shape once more.”

“Oh, splendid!” cried Meg joyfully, clapping her hands, and dancing first on one foot and then on the other.

“The next difficulty,” continued the Queen, “will be for your brother to escape. Humpty Dumpty can escape from the wall well enough, but your brother cannot be freed by the spell, for he will be neither bound nor locked up; in neither shell, prison, nor box; behind no gate, no door, and no bars. Yet he will be on the top of the city wall, which is [Pg 92]near the ground on the inside, but far, far from it on the outside. For this he has only to whisper ‘Help me!’ into one of the red flowers on the vine that grows on the outer side of the wall. Then he can clamber down by the help of these tiny climbing creepers. They are Fairy Flowers, and like to give aid. They cannot grow inside the city of the Wicked King, but they come as near as possible, and are always hoping that some day they may be able to help someone. Now, little Mortal, take my spell and hurry back with it!”

“Oh, but—your Majesty!” stammered Meg. “I—I was told to serve you for a year and a day, or until I had done you some great service!”

“Dear child, you have served me,” she said. “Have you already forgotten the warning you gave me?”

Of course, when Dick found himself alone in the Wonderful Wood, he was as surprised as his two sisters had been, and just a wee bit frightened too; though, being a boy, he would not admit it, even to himself!

He trotted down the wood-path—which twisted and turned like a long snake—with his hands in his trousers pockets, and a very determined heart. He was extremely proud of having been chosen by Mother Goose for the task of rescuing her son, Humpty Dumpty, and thought that it showed how really sensible she was, after all. For of course, those things—rescuing prisoners, and all that—were always done by men!

He thought it a pity that neither she nor Bizzybuzz had given him any clearer directions about getting to the city of the Wicked King, but he hoped to meet plenty of people [Pg 96]from whom he could ask the way. So he hurried on quite cheerfully, earnest and excited, into the depths of the Wonderful Wood. And very soon the wood grew lighter and thinner, and finally came to an end altogether, and lo and behold! there he was, on the shore of the Sea of Glass!

You see, Dick’s journey through the Wonderful Wood had been short, for all his adventures were to follow.

The Sea of Glass looked like a big green mirror, polished and clear and smooth. It did not look like water, nor ice, nor like anything except just what it was. Through the glass surface Dick could see faintly moving shadows and ripples. Evidently there was water underneath. As a matter of fact, it had once been a real, regular sea; only the Wicked King had put a glass lid over it, and screwed it on for all eternity.

Dick stared at the Sea of Glass for a minute very nervously and doubtfully; then, thinking of Humpty Dumpty, he stepped manfully out upon it. It was very slippery, but for a little while he got along fairly well by holding his hands out to balance himself and keeping his legs very far apart.

Then suddenly he stumbled a little and swayed, and as he did so, something slipped from his pocket, and fell with a sharp “cling!” on the glass. It was his jack-knife! He remembered that he had wanted to bring it with him, and that Bizzybuzz had promised it to him, and here it was! He stooped and picked it up, and then stopped a moment to open it and examine all its blades and corkscrews, and to be quite sure that it really was his own long-lost jack-knife.

Now, the one thing you must not do on the Sea of Glass is to stand still. Dick felt his feet slip from under him, and put out his hands wildly. He lost his balance, fell, and the sharp blade of the open knife splintered down through the glass, with a sound like the smashing of three dozen fine wine-glasses.... The next moment, Dick, still holding the fatal knife, was falling down, down, down, through cold green water. Strange to say, he did not feel at all like drowning; but it was very cold and dark and unpleasant, and he heartily wished that he had never had a jack-knife.

Down—down—down he went, and passed a shoal of big fishes who made dreadful faces at him as he whizzed by. Suddenly, before he had entirely grasped what had happened to him, he found himself on solid ground again, at the bottom of the sea, rather jarred but otherwise unhurt, and was staring at the oddest sort of creature that he had ever seen.

This Creature was sitting just in front of him, in a sort of cave, lined with sea-shells and pink and white coral. On every side was growing sea-grass of scarlet and purple and green, and there were also sea-flowers and waving weeds of all kinds and colours. Quivering jelly-fish of pink and orange floated through the dim water, and star-fish lay about upon the pale, deep-sea sand. Sword-fish, porpoises, and other ocean things peered in upon the scene, with their queer, fixed goggle eyes. The light seemed to be filtered through a deep green shade.

The Creature himself was shaped like a man, but he was [Pg 98]covered completely with silver-green scales, and had hair like long, lank sea-weed. His eyes were as cold and pale and glassy as those of the fishes, and his expression, slight as it was, was entirely disagreeable.

“I never heard of it,” said the Creature. “I don’t think I like you. You may go!”

“I don’t care,” said the Creature. After that, conversation stopped for a while, and they merely stared at each other in silence. At last the Scaled One spoke again, this time very crossly:

“I’d be very glad to!” said poor Dick. “But you see, I don’t know how to go. Would it be too much trouble for you to tell me how to get to the City of the Wicked King?”

“What!” roared the Creature, so suddenly and violently that Dick jumped. “I tell anyone anything about the Wicked King? Don’t you know that he is the deadliest enemy that I have?”

“Why, no!” answered Dick, a little disturbed by this outburst. “Won’t you tell me about it, please?”

His new acquaintance looked fiercely at him for a moment, and then became suddenly plunged in utter melancholy.

“Ah!” he sighed, while a tear oozed out of his eye and made a bubble in the green water, “’tis a sad tale! Listen, and hear the sorrowful story of the Sea Kobold!”

“I am the Sea Kobold. I own this sea, and everything in it. Once I owned the surface of the sea too, but that was long ago. I owned the pretty green waves with silver crests, that break in the bright daytime, and the big black ones that come at night in the dark of the moon. And I owned too the little pink ones that you see at sunset, when the West is burning up all the horrid things that have happened during the day.

“I took a fatherly interest in the little boats that floated there, and in the pretty, long-haired mermaids who swam up into the moonlight to sing love-songs to the sailors. The fishes that leaped and circled and shone in the purple light of dusk were all my friends, and the big and small winds knew me for their master. And I had a little son,—a beautiful, scaly son, born in the sea, and fated to inherit my power and my great sea-kingdom. But all that was very, very long ago!”

“I never heard the adjective,” said the Sea Kobold, primly. “But I will accept it for the moment. It was bully!—What was I saying? Ah, yes! It is a very sad story. The Wicked King lives, as you must know, on the further shore of this sea. He has a very pretty daughter, with whom Prince Humpty Dumpty used to be in love.”

“Yes.—Don’t interrupt, please! It distracts my mind.—Well, the Wicked King wanted her to marry someone else,—a gentleman named Grump, I believe,—and forbade her to even see Humpty Dumpty. But of course the lovers would not obey him. He was so cruel and unkind always that his daughter did not think it wrong to do as he had told her not to; and, for my part, I did not, either.

“Humpty Dumpty came every night and sang love-songs to her, and one night he came in a beautiful little boat, made out of a big shell, with a sail spun entirely out of rose-leaves of different colours. And down by the shore he sang the very prettiest song that he had ever sung—or that any one else had ever sung, for that matter—and that I know, for I was listening. A very pretty song it was, to be sure!

“We were great friends, he and I, and I held his boat between two quiet waves when he went on shore to meet the Princess. And down she came from the City Wall Gate, holding up her skirts daintily and looking as sweet as possible. [Pg 101]And they got into the sea-shell boat, and I puffed a breeze to fill the rose-leaf sail, and off they sailed.

“But just then who should appear upon the shore but the Wicked King himself, and Grump with him! Grump—who was half a wizard and a very disagreeable person, besides being very much in love with the little Princess—jumped into the sea and swam after the boat. The Wicked King stood on the shore and raved and threatened and swore.

“I tried my best to drown Grump, but he wouldn’t sink any more than a piece of cork, and in spite of all my efforts he overtook the boat and pulled it slowly back to the shore. Grump made some magic passes over the prow of the little sea-shell skiff, and—oh, ’tis too sad!—when the boat reached the shore, there was nothing in it but the Princess, crying like a baby, and beside her a big egg.

“They put poor Humpty Dumpty, in his new shape, on the City Wall, and shut the pretty little Princess up in a high tower. And then they took my little boy Mudge, and made him a prisoner too, just to punish me for having helped the young Prince. And last of all”—the Sea Kobold choked—“they put a glass lid over my sea, and screwed it down tight. And now I can never, never go up to the surface any more. And there are no more waves, and no more boats, and no more mermaids singing in the moonlight to the sailors, and—no—more—” The Sea Kobold dissolved into tears.

“Oh, cheer up!” said Dick, absent-mindedly. He was too much interested in the Sea Kobold’s story to pay much [Pg 102]attention to his grief. “Do you happen to know just where the Princess is now?” he asked.

“No,” he answered. “I know that she is in the highest tower in the Red City.”

“The highest tower; that’s something to know, anyway,” said Dick, thoughtfully. He was glad to know that in the Red City he would have one person ready to help him if it were possible.

“And now,” he added, “would you—would you be so kind, please, as to tell me how to get to the Red City?”

“I’m sure I don’t know any way,” said the Sea Kobold, mournfully. “Since that glass cover was screwed on—By the bye, how did you get here?” he asked suddenly.

“I fell, and my knife broke a hole in the glass,” explained Dick. He showed the offending blade, and then shut and dropped it into his pocket.

“Well, go back through it, then,” said the Sea Kobold. “While we are on the subject, I may tell you that I am glad you have made a hole. I can go up now and then to look out, though, of course, I shall never dare to stay very long, for fear the Wicked King or Grump might see me and plan some fresh trouble for me. Now good-bye; I can’t be bothered with you any more.”

Since there seemed nothing more to be gained by staying where he was, Dick turned his back on the Sea Kobold and [Pg 103]his cave, and walked off among the rocks and the big ocean-trees that were scattered along the bottom of the sea.

He felt rather discouraged and lonely, for he could not imagine how he should ever get up again to the hole he had made in the glass. It occurred to him that he might climb one of the queer, tall, lanky sea-trees; but when he stopped to look, he could see that the top did not nearly reach to the surface. What was going to happen to him next? he wondered.

As Dick walked along on the dim brown-gray sand on the bottom of the sea, he began to notice, as his eyes grew more and more accustomed to the faint greenish light, the many marvels which were all around him. Never, in after years, could he quite recall all the strange and beautiful things that he saw during that submarine stroll, but what he did remember made him long many times to visit the sea-floor once again, and look at the wonderful sights which were to be seen there.

Besides the masses of many-coloured sea-weed, and the odd, bright-hued sea-flowers that grew there, there were whole forests of coral, snow-white, pale yellow, and deep scarlet. There were narrow rock-paths where gold glittered in the [Pg 108]crevices, and great lumps of brown and yellow agate gleamed dimly through the water. There were heaps of pearls,—as though some mysterious sea-miser had been collecting and hoarding them; and garnets that made the water all around look as though it were dyed crimson. The sea-moss of purple and red and dull green hung waveringly from the rocks, and lay in patches on the sand-floor, like strange, gaudy rugs.

The sea-trees moved slowly with the faint motion of the deep-sea currents, and in the distance looked like dark-green shadows, stirring across a sheet of glass. Everywhere were shells—large and small, pink, white, black, and gray, lying at his feet, lodged in niches in the high, black rocks, floating, caught in tangles of dull sea-weed. And everywhere, too, were fishes, some of them quite ordinary-looking creatures, but others different from any that Dick had ever seen even in picture-books.

Suddenly the rock-walled path which he had been following came to an end, and he found himself in a huge, green-washed clearing, with distant walls and a clean-swept, sandy floor. This place was filled with all sorts of strange sea-creatures,—principally fish, although there were several queer things that did not look as though they belonged in the natural history books.

In the very centre of the big crowded circle sat an old woman, in a dark green cloak and hood, which floated away from her skinny face and figure whenever she waved her arm—which she did very often. For she seemed to be the [Pg 109]mistress of ceremonies down here, and all the other creatures listened with respect to what she said. When she saw Dick, she beckoned to him, and he went up to her feeling even more frightened than when he had faced Mother Goose or the Sea Kobold.

“I am the Old Witch of the Sea,” she said. “And my husband is the Old Man of the Sea. Have you ever read ‘Sinbad the Sailor’?”

“In that case,” said the Witch, thoughtfully, “I am not sure whether or not you would better stay to tea.”

“Oh, is this a party?” asked Dick eagerly, looking around him with new interest.

“Yes,” said the Witch, proudly. “I give a tea-party every week for the fish. The Sea Kobold, the real ruler of this sea, has become so bad-tempered, since they screwed him in here, that he won’t do a single thing for the amusement of his poor unfortunate subjects; so, of course, I feel it my duty to do what I can to cheer them up. Do you know him, by the way?”

“The Sea Kobold?” said Dick, a little bewildered. “Yes, I—I—have met him. He didn’t seem to like me very much, though.”

“Dear, dear!” said the Witch. “Then I’ll warrant that he never even offered you a cup of tea!”

“Dear, dear!” exclaimed the Witch again. “Then you [Pg 110]must certainly come to my tea-party, even if you have never heard of my husband, the Old Man of the Sea.”

She motioned Dick to sit down on the sand, between two horrid-looking fishes, and began to bustle about hospitably, among a number of queer-shaped shells which, Dick gathered, took the place of cups at fish tea-parties.

“I said, ‘with or without salt’!” snapped the Witch, holding a pink and orange shell in her hand.

“You’re making a great mistake,” the Witch told him seriously. “Never take tea in the sea without salt!”

Dick said he would take salt, after all, and the Witch brought him the pink and orange shell, filled with a pale liquid which tasted as though it were made of sea-weed. As a matter of fact, it was made of sea-weed.

“The—the tea,” said Dick, wondering more and more how you could drink liquid when you were sitting under the water.

Dick drank his salt tea, and found that it tasted better after you had become a little used to it. The fish seemed to enjoy it immensely.

As they all sipped their tea, Dick had a chance to look at his fellow-guests more closely. They were a queer collection.

On one side of him sat a big skate-fish, which looked so ridiculous that Dick was afraid to stare at him long lest he should laugh out loud. He looked just like a big pie-plate, with an eye set in each side, and the funniest little wisp of a tail that you ever saw. On the other was a shark, with a gray back, white waistcoat effect, a square head, and two enormous sets of saw-like teeth. Next came a mackerel, all brown and dappled; then a bluefish, almost black in colour; then a silver salmon; then a huge-mouthed shad; then a haddock, a cod, and a porpoise which seemed to have some trouble in overcoming its desire to keep jumping all the time; then a butter-fish,—flat like a small pancake; then a short, stumpy porgie; then a bull-head, thick and dull-looking, with two little delicate horns on his ugly forehead; then a sea-trout, with the prettiest suit of orange-spotted brown and deep pink; then a swordfish, waving his sword-snout about in what looked like a very dangerous manner; then a bass, and a sunfish with fins set above and below, like enormous sun-rays.

On the farther side of the great circle there were a number of even more extraordinary fish. There was an octopus, or devil-fish,—the kind that try to pull sailors out of their boats and crush them to death with their long, strong, innumerable [Pg 112]arms; a tarpon, huge and beautiful; a cuttle-fish, floating in a sort of inky halo; and, far in the background, a monster whale. He had an appetite in keeping with his size, and the Old Witch of the Sea had to take him fifty shells of tea before he was even sufficiently satisfied to blow his thanks in a great spurt of foaming water.

Dick also noticed a number of green lobsters and crabs of all sizes, and scattered about on the ground were masses of oysters, clams, mussels, and scollops,—their small round shells making the prettiest sort of a pattern in blue, gray, and black. Then, too, there were countless eels, wriggling their long grayish-green snaky bodies through the water on all sides.

But after a while all the sea-weed tea was drunk, and even the whale swam lumberingly away, and all the smaller fishes wriggled their thanks to the Witch and departed likewise, and Dick was left quite alone with his hostess.

“And now,” said the Old Witch of the Sea, “what can I do for you, little mortal boy?”

Dick explained his trouble, and asked her if she could not possibly help him to reach the surface of the water and continue his journey to the City of the Wicked King.

“No,” said the Witch, shaking her head thoughtfully. “I am wise and old,—oh, very, very old, indeed! But I cannot help you in this. But I can take you to someone who can help you; only you must come with me obediently, and do everything that I tell you to, and not stop to talk with the sea-folk on your way.”

“Oh, indeed, indeed I will do just what you tell me to!” cried Dick, earnestly. “May we not start at once, please? And—and—” he added hesitatingly, “I am very much obliged for the tea.”

The Old Witch of the Sea bowed with dignity, and said, “You are entirely welcome, I am sure,” in a very grand way. Then, as they began to walk on across the sand, she proceeded to talk further about herself,—her great age and her even greater wisdom.

“You see,” said the Witch, “I am one of the oldest inhabitants of the ocean. I it was who gave Hans Andersen’s poor Little Mermaid her pretty feet, that hurt her so terribly until she was turned into sea-foam. I told Mr. Andersen about the matter myself, by the bye. And I fitted out Sinbad’s Cave. And I sent word to the three Rhine maidens to come here and live after they had gotten back their gold. I explained that though Alberich and the gods and all those other horrid interfering creatures were very properly dead and gone, they never could tell what might happen in that Rhine neighbourhood,—horrid, scandalous place, I call it,—so they came here to live. Would you like to call on them? They live just around the corner.”

And without waiting for Dick to answer, she whisked him around a big black rock, and into the presence of three very pretty young women, who were swimming about and singing a soft, rippling song. In a cleft on the rock glowed something bright and yellow. Dick did not know then that it was the famous Rhine gold.

“I want to present to you—” began the Witch; but the three young women only cried, “We are busy guarding our gold,—don’t interrupt us!” And they began to sing and swim faster than ever.

“Mannerless creatures!” grumbled the Witch, as they went on their way once more. “Almost as bad as that Lorelei girl. She lives farther down the rock-street, so we won’t call on her. She’s just as ungrateful as the rest, though I got her here too.”

At that moment a crowd of children came romping by. They were queer-looking little things, half of their bodies made up of scales and fins and fish-tails, and the other half of rosy pink and white flesh and blood. With them came a number of strange fishy animals that barked.

“Come and play with us,” cried the Mer-children when they saw Dick. “Come and play with the starfish, and have a ride on one of our sea-horses.”

“The Mer-people are dangerous folk,” she told him. “These children are not like the Water Babies of whom you may have heard. If you played with these too long, you would lose your own human soul, and become a Make Believe person, like the rest of us.”

He pointed to a group of lovely maidens and handsome young men (all with bodies that ended in shining fish-tails) who were swimming gracefully through the water, while two sad-faced men, with wreaths of pale blue flowers in their hair, played a soft, slow melody upon harps.

“The Mermen and Mermaids are having a ball,” said the Witch. “And they have induced two of the Necker-folk to play for them. The Necker are the saddest race of elves in the water, for they are always longing for souls to be given them. Even while they play for the gay Mer-people to dance, they are thinking of the souls they have not yet won.”

They passed all sorts of queer beasts as they journeyed on. There were not only sea-horses and sea-dogs, but sea-serpents that seemed to have been painted all the colours of the rainbow, and shiny, emerald-green sea-dragons, and one terrible great thing, which seemed to be half asleep, and about which the Witch said that a gentleman called Tennyson had once written a poem. She said that the name of the Thing was the Kraken.

So on and on they went, until Dick’s mind had become a sort of vague jumble of queer fishy sights, and it seemed as though he had lived forever at the bottom of the sea.

And suddenly he discovered that he was alone! The Old Witch of the Sea had left him, and he was all by himself in [Pg 116]the awful dark green depths of the ocean that lay under the Sea of Glass!

What had become of his guide? Had she left him on purpose, or had she been called away, in some queer fairy way which he did not understand? Or was it possible that she had indeed brought him to the place where he was to be given the help he had asked?

He looked about him on every side, and even up into the green water over his head, but he could not see even a fish! He was utterly alone, this time! Now, at last, everything was quite hopeless.

“Dear, dear, dear!” cried a sweet, half-mocking voice beside him. “What is the matter? Why do you look so sad, little mortal boy?”

Dick turned, and saw a very pretty lady, in a green gown that floated about her in the water, and bare feet that lightly pressed the sand.

“Well, come along!” said the pretty lady, with a musical little laugh. And she picked him up in her arms and held him close. “Now shut your eyes!”

He did as she told him to; and she kissed him lightly. Her lips felt warm, even through the cold water. “Now open your eyes!” she commanded.

Dick stared about him. He was no longer at the bottom of the sea, but on solid dry land again, just in front of a big iron gate, with a gray stone wall stretching on either side, and [Pg 120]the tops of a number of crimson houses and turrets showing beyond the wall.

“I am the Old Witch of the Sea,” she said. “Oh, I am ever so many persons! It is my pet game, playing at being all sorts of different people! Good-bye, little mortal boy. I have an idea that we shall be very good friends one of these days, and I’m glad that we met! Good-bye,—and don’t forget that you have been kissed by the Fairy of Fancy.”

“It’s one of my names. Your sister Bab calls me the Idle Princess, and if you asked Meg, she would say that I was the Lady Dreams-Come-True. You’ll know me by a hundred other names by and by!... Good luck, and good-bye!” And she danced away from him laughing, her golden hair tossing in the wind. In a moment she had disappeared.

While he was thinking this problem over, he heard a voice cry: “Good-fortune, Dick! I’m off to see how Bab and Meg are getting on. You have done well to get here so soon! Good luck! Good luck!”

It was Bizzybuzz! Before Dick could even answer him, [Pg 121]he was off, a mere glimmering green speck in the distant light. Dick felt more cheerful after seeing him, but he wished that he might have stopped long enough to advise him as to the best way of entering the city.

For lack of fuller directions, he started to follow the wall for a time, to see if there might not be an opening. And as he walked, he suddenly heard a voice just over his head, whispering in saddest accents, “Oh, shall I never be free?” Dick looked up, startled. There, at the top of the wall, was Humpty Dumpty himself, at last!

As we have heard before, Humpty Dumpty was an Egg,—a huge white, smooth egg. The only thing about him that was different from other eggs was that he had features; that is, he had features of a sort, and also limbs, though very queer ones. On the pallid white surface of the egg-shell was sketched a large mournful face which looked as though it had been drawn in lead-pencil; and two little thin arms and two little thin legs stood out from the shell like spider-limbs. He was sighing and moaning in a very pathetic way, and Dick felt extremely sorry for him.

“Oh, dear! Oh, dear!” groaned poor Humpty Dumpty, addressing the air and the sky. “Will no one ever come to rescue me?”

“What!” exclaimed Humpty Dumpty, “a Rescuer at last? Let me look! Oh, let me look!”

“What could you do?” he asked in deep depression. “You—a little mortal boy!”

“I know I’m little,” said Dick, feeling rather hurt. “But your mother thinks that I can help you get away, anyway!”

“Yes, indeed!” said Dick. “And, oh, dear Prince Humpty Dumpty, won’t you please let me try to help you?”

“Oh, you’re welcome to try!” said Prince Humpty Dumpty, gloomily. “There’s not the slightest objection to your doing that! Only I feel it my duty to warn you that you won’t like it in this place. It isn’t at all a pleasant city to live in, and the King is a most annoying person!”

“Well,” said Dick, “I don’t expect to have much fun, you know; not what you’d really call fun, that is! But I want to get into that city most awfully. Can you think of a way? The wall is pretty high to climb.”

“Oh, it is very easy to get in!” declared the Egg, with dark meaning. “Your trouble will be in getting out!”

“I—I suppose so,” said Dick, and for a moment felt just a wee bit queer. Suppose that the Wicked King or this charming person called Grump should take it into his head to turn him into an egg,—or something even worse? But that cowardly thought only lasted for a moment, for Dick was [Pg 123]a brave little boy, and aloud he cried cheerfully, “Well, tell me how to get in, anyway!”

“Climb up the flowering vine,” said Humpty Dumpty; “repeat in each blossom, as you pass, the words, ‘Help me! Help me!’ That’s all.”

Dick noticed that the outside of the wall was covered with pretty climbing flowers of a bright red colour. It looked like a morning-glory vine, only the blooms were scarlet. He put his foot into the tangle of green at the bottom, and cried boldly, “Help me! Help me!” into the first red cup that he saw. In a moment more he was climbing up as easily and merrily as though the delicate tendrils were a strong ladder. Once at the top he thanked the flowers politely, and shook Humpty Dumpty’s thin spidery hand.

“Looking like this?” said the unfortunate Egg. “Go home to my mother in an egg-shell? Never! Besides, I’ll never go until I can take the Princess with me. And besides all that, you just try to move me—that’s all!”

“Without the help of some sort of a spell I can’t move nor be moved,” said Humpty Dumpty, with sad calm. “You see why I haven’t escaped, don’t you?”

Dick felt more determined than ever to find the Princess and join forces with her. Surely, since she was in love with [Pg 124]Humpty Dumpty, she must be able to suggest some way of setting him free.

He jumped down into the Red City, and, waving a farewell to Humpty Dumpty, he ran away in search of the Princess.

“The tallest tower in the city,” he repeated to himself, remembering the Sea Kobold. “That ought to be easy to find.”

He looked about him anxiously. The Red City of the Wicked King was a place of many and narrow streets, that turned, every other moment, in the queerest, crookedest ways imaginable, and sometimes brought up in short dark alleys that frightened Dick. He wandered about for some time between the silent dark-red buildings,—everything was crimson in this horrid city,—and for a long time he did not meet a living soul. He wondered what had become of the people who must live in these funny red houses. They surely couldn’t all be dead, or sick, or asleep, or in prison, or away visiting in the country. There must be some few who were shopping, or paying calls, or attending to their business, or looking out of their front doors, or taking a walk. Yet there seemed to be no one at all.

There was something really rather horrid and frightening in these little silent red streets, with so many corners and turnings and so many blind alleys (they are little short streets only open at one end) and shut-up-looking houses. Dick found himself hurrying faster than before, and looking around [Pg 125]every now and then, as though something unpleasant and big were behind him.

Where did the Wicked King live? he wondered; and where, oh, where was the highest tower in the city?

At last, as he was hastening along, he happened to peer into a window that was nearly on a level with his own head. Of course it is always rude to look into people’s windows, and Dick knew it; but things were so very dreadful, and he was so anxious to find some human being, that he thought that this once he might do it.

Dick stopped at once, and said “Hollo!” and the other little boy said the same; and then the two little boys stood and stared at each other.

“Yes, indeed!” sighed the little boy. “And I’m kept a prisoner here in the Red City, because my father made the Wicked King angry. I am very tired of being a prisoner; I want to go back and live in the sea. They took all my lovely scales away, too; and I do so want them back!”

Dick was very sorry for poor Mudge, but he was glad they had met, and he asked him to tell him the way to the highest tower in the city.

“You go on to the right, always to the right,” said [Pg 126]Mudge, “until you come to the Palace; and then you walk around the Palace three times, moving to the left; and then you stop under a tree with green flowers on it; and then you look up, and you will see the Princess in her tower.”

“Oh, dear!” said Dick. “I’ll never remember all that! Could you not come with me and show me? Oh, I forgot; you’re a prisoner!”

“Oh,” said Mudge, “I’m not a prisoner in that way. I can get out of this house whenever I want to. It is the city that I can’t leave. I’ll come with you if you like. I often go to see the Princess and tell her how Humpty Dumpty is looking.”

“Oh, yes!” said Mudge, as they set out. “But, even so, she likes to hear about him. I just say, ‘He’s as well as usual, your Highness!’ and that satisfies her.”

“Oh, yes; she’s rather small, and pretty, and kind; and her father’s horrid to her. She wears lovely things, and sits and cries in the tower all day.”

Dick felt ready to cry himself, when he thought of the poor, pretty, small, kind Princess who was in so much trouble. Perhaps he could rescue her as well as Humpty Dumpty! He became quite excited at the thought. And Mudge—he must be rescued, of course! It was really wonderful, [Pg 127]the number of people in the Red City who needed a champion like himself!

“Because,” Mudge answered, “everyone is too much afraid of the Wicked King. When he is in a bad temper, he has people’s heads chopped off without a moment’s notice, and the citizens think it wiser and healthier to keep indoors as much as possible.”

In time they reached the Palace,—a huge, splendid building which seemed to be made chiefly of rubies,—and, after walking around it three times, always to the left, they looked up at last through the branches of the green-blossomed tree.

And there, sure enough, was the highest tower in the city,—a tall, tall tower, with one little window about half-way up.

“Here is where the Princess lives,” explained Mudge. And then he called softly, “Princess Star! Princess Star!”

Dick could not imagine how the Princess could hear, ’way up in the air so high; but in a minute a pretty, frowning face appeared, leaning out over the window-sill. A sweet, rather cross, little voice—you could hear every word quite clearly—said, “You bad Mudge! why did you not come sooner?”

Then she caught sight of Dick, and gave a little scream. “Who’s that with you?”

“Mother Goose, my future mother-in-law!” exclaimed the Princess, and sighed. “I should like to see him closer,” she added, and was silent for a moment, as though thinking. But in that moment something happened.

A sound of voices and tramping feet echoed around a corner of the Palace, and the Princess suddenly pulled in her head, while Mudge as promptly took to his heels. So Dick was left alone, for he was too bewildered to run at first; and by the time that he had made up his mind to try to escape, he was entirely surrounded by some fierce-looking men-at-arms, all dressed in bright red.

Dick did not know what to say. He hated to lie, but there was the Princess to be thought of, and Humpty Dumpty, and Mother Goose, and Meg, and Bab, and dozens of other considerations. So he decided not to tell quite all the truth.

“I—they are very pretty,” he admitted, hanging his head and feeling very much ashamed; for his many faults had never included lying before.

“It is against the law, and you must go to prison,” declared the soldier. “Probably the Wicked King, our master, will have you beheaded without delay; and, for my part, I think that even that will be better than you deserve!”

Dick felt so sad and angry at the thought of failure—to say nothing of the danger that he was in—that he could have cried; only, being a boy, of course he didn’t!

But he wished hard for some idea to come to him that would show him a way out of his trouble. And suddenly a big Dragon-Fly whizzed up to him, apparently on its way to the green flowers on the tree overhead.

With a sudden impulse Dick whispered “Help me, dear, good, kind Dragon-Fly!” as he had to the flowers.

“Tell Bizzybuzz, the Goblin,” murmured Dick; and the insect darted swiftly away. Dick could not tell whether or no it had heard him or would repeat his message, but he felt a trifle happier.

The men answered her most respectfully; for though she was a prisoner in a turret of her father’s castle, they all looked up to her with something approaching adoration,—something which, with all their fear, they never gave her cruel father.

“This is a thief, your Highness,” said the head man in red, bowing very low. “He was about to steal some of the [Pg 134]flowers from the beautiful tree that grows under your Highness’s window!”

“Why, the horrid little wretch!” exclaimed the Princess, pretending to be extremely angry. “Just you bring him up to me! I should like to look at any little boy who could be so terribly wicked!”

“We must take him to prison at once, your Highness,” protested the man. But she persisted.

“I want to see him!” she said. “I’d like to box his wicked ears myself! That lovely tree! Why, looking at it and counting its blooms every morning is one of the few pleasures I have!” And she pretended to sob bitterly. “Bring him up!” she cried again. “Bring him up, I say!”

“Oh, well!” said the man-at-arms, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Of course, if your august Highness insists—” And Dick was taken into the Palace by a side door, and marched up ever so many stairs to the Princess’s room.

There they found, keeping guard, several men, who let them pass, looking quite amazed. And so they came at last into the Princess Star’s tower-prison.

The Princess Star was really a very pretty little princess, though she did not look particularly cheerful nor even remarkably good-tempered; and her room itself was a marvel of gorgeous disorder. Flowers and jewels and splendid stuffs were flung about as though the Princess had been venting her temper upon them. There was a parrot on a perch, a yellow cat on a cushion, a big green lizard on the end of a gold [Pg 135]chain, a little silver cage of queer birds, and a big crystal basin full of beautiful fishes of all sorts swimming about in rose-coloured water.

In the centre of everything sat the Princess on a little gold stool with three legs (for all the world like a milking-stool!), dressed in some very magnificent robes and gems and with her crown somewhat awry.

When she saw Dick, she pretended to fly into a rage and to try to box his ears; but finally she very cleverly pretended to calm down, and declared that he wasn’t a bad-looking little boy—for a thief! And then she said that she needed a page to look after her pets, and announced that she would keep him. The head man-at-arms objected, of course, saying that he must take the thief to prison to await the pleasure of the Wicked King. But at that the Princess flew into another rage,—real, this time,—and threw things at him—beginning with a jewelled hour-glass and ending with a mandolin—until he was very glad to leave the royal young lady’s apartments on any terms.

So they all backed away as fast as they possibly could, and shut the door very tight behind them. And Dick was left alone with pretty, bad-tempered, disorderly Princess Star.

“There!” she exclaimed, flinging herself into a sort of throne-like chair that was made of silver and inlaid with gold. “Now we can talk sense at last! Tell me at once who you are and why you are here!”

“You’re a dear little boy,” she said at last, “and you may sit on my lap if you want to.”

Dick did not want to, for he thought it babyish; but he hated to seem rude. So he accepted her invitation, and found that a Princess’s lap was very much like other people’s; it reminded him a little too much of his mother’s, and made him homesick. So he got down just as soon as he could politely.

“And now,” said the Princess, “what are we to do next? I wish we knew where the spell can be found that can move my poor Humpty Dumpty from his dreadful place on the top of the city wall.”

“So do I—” Dick was beginning, when there was a sudden sound outside, the door flew open, and they saw—

But to know what they saw, we must first go back to Santa Claus’s house, where we left Bab sleeping in front of the big fire. She was dreaming of the Sand Man and the owls and the Wooden Cow and the Idle Princess all at once, when she was awakened by hearing her name called. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, and Wiggles barked.

Santa Claus was standing near them talking to a new-comer, and who should that new-comer be but Bizzybuzz!

“Mother Goose thought it was about time for me to look you up,” he explained, after Bab had greeted him enthusiastically. “Santa Claus tells me that you have been doing very well.—Aha!” he added, seeming pleased. “So you have the dog at last? What did I tell you? But let me hear more [Pg 140]about this rescue of the Wooden Cow. What did you say the Brownies wanted to do with the pieces?”

“My dear child,” he said, “though they were indeed sent by the Wicked King as they told you, they were sent chiefly for the purpose of trying to stop you in your journey and preventing you from reaching me! They tried their best to get you to help them chop up my cow; and if you had, you would have been in the power of the Wicked King forever and ever! The reason that they wanted a horn of the magic cow was that with one of them or even a piece of one you can turn people into wood at a moment’s notice! And the Wicked King and Grump are always on the lookout for spells,—particularly those which can be put to a bad use in bad hands.”

Bab was much shocked by all this; but Bizzybuzz nodded his head, and said: “Of course; that’s simple enough. Everyone knows their methods. It’s lucky for you, Bab, that you did not listen to their coaxing!”

Bab thought so, too, and she felt more ashamed than ever when she remembered that she had even hesitated for a moment.

“Well,” said Santa Claus, “now that the little girl has done her duty so well and served me so usefully, how is she to get home?”

“Do you want to go directly back to Mother Goose?” asked Bizzybuzz, turning to her. She hesitated.

“I—I’d like to help Dick first,” she answered. “He has the hardest task of us all; and then, you see, I should most awfully love to help set poor Mother Goose’s son free!”

“Good!” cried Santa Claus, heartily. “Well thought of! You shall go to your brother this very night, and”—he paused and smiled slyly—“I know how you will go!”

“Never you mind!” chuckled the old gentleman, mysteriously. “You’ll like it, I promise you!”

“But what help can she be to her brother?” asked Bizzybuzz. “Nothing but the very strongest magic could be of any use to him in the Red City.”

“Well,” said Santa Claus, “why shouldn’t she have a bit of magic about her, just in case she needed it? And as a matter of fact,” he added, “it’s odd, you know, that she didn’t collect any magic coming through the Wonderful Wood.”

“Perhaps she did,” suggested Bizzybuzz. “Did you drink from any spring, Bab?”

“I sat down on a bank,” she said. “And—and yes! I picked daisies in the Idle Princess’s garden.”

“Oh, no! I didn’t keep anything. Oh, wait! Yes! I have some sand!” And she laughed.

“Yes,” declared Bab, putting her hand in her pocket and drawing it out. “Look! Sand from the Sand Man’s country,—the World of Sand!”

“Take care of that sand, Bab,” said the former. “With even a grain of that you could send anyone fast asleep if you just threw the grain at him.”

“Lovely!” Bab clapped her hands after carefully returning the sand to her pocket. “Perhaps—who knows?—I can send the Wicked King to sleep for a hundred years.”

“Or Grump,” said Santa Claus. “It really would be nice if Grump could be sent to sleep for a hundred years!”

“Now, do you know,” said Bizzybuzz, thoughtfully, “I think that sleep would be far too good for Grump.”

“Let’s hurry!” begged Bab, who was anxious to be on the road that led to the Red City.

“Slowly, slowly!” said Santa Claus. “First, my dear, would you not like to see my house?”

“Ye-es,” said Bab, doubtfully. “Only—please excuse me, dear Santa Claus, but—”

“My workshop,” went on Santa Claus, “my Fairy Kitchen, my toy henyard, my reindeer—”

“Oh, have you any real reindeer?” asked Bab, forgetting Dick for a moment. “I’ve heard of them, you know, [Pg 143]but I never knew that you really truly had them. What are they like?”

“What! Did you never read the stories of my friend Hans Christian Andersen?” asked Santa Claus.

“No,” said Bab, shamefacedly. “We had them for a Christmas present one year, but we never read them. We—we thought make-believe things were silly then!”

“Ah! very sad indeed!” declared Santa Claus, shaking his head. “But, my dear child, reindeer are not make-believe things; though, to be sure, mine are not quite like ordinary animals. I’m surprised, by the bye, that you did not see them when you were in the barn.”

“Were they there?” cried Bab, excitedly. “No, I did not see them. It was very dark, and you see I was so much interested in the Wooden Cow.”

“I’ll take you down to the barn again,” said Santa Claus, “and show them to you.”

Bab felt as though she could not bear to delay another moment, kind as Santa Claus had been to her, and delightful as it was in his little house. But she stifled her impatience, and said “Thank you” as politely as she knew how.

But just at that moment there was a slight sound at the window,—the lightest tap-tapping, such as you hear when a June-bug bumps and buzzes against the pane in mid-summer.

“Oh, it’s you!” said the Dragon-Fly. Evidently they were old friends. “Well, I’ve hunted you through the Wind Channels, and the Storm Road of Clouds, and the Tree-Top Pathway, and every other route I could think of. I happened to meet Klang and Tinkle just now on their way to the Fairy Court. They told me they had seen you come in this direction.”

“Well, hurry up!” said Bizzybuzz, impatiently. “What do you want me for?”

“A small boy, as boys go,” pursued Green-Wings, “He told me to bring you word concerning him.”

“He’s been caught by the men-at-arms of the Wicked King,” said the Dragon-Fly. “Things looked rather badly for him when I left.”

“I must not lose a minute!” cried Bizzybuzz. “I’ll go to him at once; and—wait! Perhaps Meg has done her task by this time. If so, she has the spell Dick needs. I’ll stop at the Fairy Court on my way. Thanks, Green-Wings, [Pg 145]thanks! Good-bye, good-bye!” And he darted, still buzzing busily, out of the window.

“You—can—follow—me—if—you—like—” His voice floated back to her. “Santa Claus will show you the way—” And he was quite gone forthwith.

The Dragon-Fly polished off his wings in front of the fire, much to the excitement of Wiggles. Then he flew away, his gauzy person flashing through the open window like that of a sprite.

“Oh, how can I follow Bizzybuzz?” sobbed Bab. “And I did so want to help Dicky! That dreadful king will surely behead him!”

“Now listen to me!” said Santa Claus. “I have a plan which I think you’ll like. Why should not you go straight to the Red City yourself and help your brother in your own way, without paying any further attention to Bizzybuzz? He’s only a Goblin Messenger, after all. You have the Sleep-Sand, and I am going to give you the means of making an escape at any time! What do you say?”

In all her excitement Bab could not help stopping to speak to her friend the Wooden Cow, and the beast seemed pleased to see her.

“I’m so glad I have something to remember her by!” said Bab, showing Santa Claus the scrap of wood which she still carried in her pocket.

“Do you remember what I told you about her horns?” he said. “Well, never mind! Of course you don’t! But that bit of wood is a very powerful weapon, Miss Bab! And don’t you throw it at anyone unless you are in the greatest possible danger! Don’t forget!”

“Good-bye, Wooden Cow!” she said, and turned away. “Oh, Santa Claus! Santa Claus! what is the way I am to go?”

He rolled back another door inside the barn. By the light of the lantern he carried, Bab could see some beautiful animals standing in stalls such as horses have. But these were not horses. They had great, spreading antlers, delicate hoofs, and noble heads; and they looked at Santa Claus, and stamped as though in the highest excitement.

“They are anxious to be off!” he said, looking at them proudly. “There, my beauties! Only a moment more! Ah! they miss the Christmas season, poor beasts!”

“How am I to send the spell back to you after we have freed Humpty Dumpty?” she said.

“Bizzybuzz will bring it. He is an old friend of mine, and always welcome at court.”

“Hush, Klang and Tinkle!” said the Queen. “I wish to bid the little mortal girl good-bye in peace!”

“But,” said the two Goblins, “we want to tell her that we met her sister a short time ago, and that she seemed in excellent health and admired our music greatly.”

“You must not talk to these two idle-headed Goblins,” she said severely. “Think of poor Humpty Dumpty, and hurry! If Klang and Tinkle did meet your sister, I am certain that they delayed her all they could!”

“But,” they explained, “we want to make up for all that by suggesting that it is not safe for the mortal girl to travel back alone with the spell through the Wonderful Wood.”

“So that you may have some one to admire you and listen to your singing!” said the Queen, scornfully. “No, indeed, you shall not go with her; but I agree with you about the dangers of her going alone. Let me think—”

“What news, what news, Bizzybuzz?” cried Meg. “I must know first of all if you have any news!”

With an excited flutter of his gauzy wings he answered: “News indeed! Bab has finished her task!”

“Really? Now, that is better still!” said good little Bizzybuzz, with the greatest possible satisfaction. “Well, then, we are all ready to go to Dick’s assistance; and he needs us! I have Moon-Eyes waiting in the wood for you, and Bab will follow to the Red City, under the directions of Santa Claus, who has taken a great fancy to her!”

Meg said good-bye to the Fairy Queen in a flutter of excitement, and, clasping her precious blue scroll very tightly, she hurried away after Bizzybuzz; and the Fairies called, “Good-fortune!” after them as they went.

In the woods they found Moon-Eyes waiting with owl-like patience. As Meg mounted, with a caress for the wise and silent bird, she felt a thrill of excitement, a joy in adventure which she had never felt before.

“Now, then,” cried Bizzybuzz, “to rescue Dick and Humpty Dumpty from the clutches of the Wicked King!”

When the door of the Princess’s room opened, and both she and Dick turned toward it, what do you suppose they saw?

They saw a little girl in a brown dress with black spots on it,—a little girl who had dark eyes and hair, and was followed by a small, excited fox-terrier. For they saw none other than Bab herself!

She ran into the room, and hugged her brother, crying, “Oh, Dicky, Dicky, dear! How glad I am to see you again!”

Wiggles jumped about and yelped with joy, and altogether you might have supposed that they had all been separated for [Pg 154]years, instead of only—But dear me, I forgot! We don’t know how long it had been, after all! For, of course, in Make Believe Land they count very differently from the way we do.

Naturally, both Dick and Bab forgot all about the Princess, until she said quite crossly, “Well, I do think you might introduce her to me!”

“It’s really Barbara,” explained Bab. “But I think that’s really worse, isn’t it? And, anyway, Bab’s shorter.”

“Oh, yes, certainly. And it’s a very nice name,” said the Princess, politely. “A very nice name, I’m sure! Well, little Bab, or Barbara, or whatever your name is, what are you doing here?”

“If you please, Princess,” said Bab, timidly. “I am here to help Dicky save Humpty Dumpty.”

“And himself!” added the Princess, mischievously. “You know he needs saving too, just now.”

“Every single one!” declared the Princess. “Your brother—what did he say his name was?—Duck?—oh, [Pg 155]no—Dick!—Dick and I were just talking the matter over when you came in. We aren’t very certain how to go about it.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” answered the Princess, sincerely. “It’s almost as hard to get in here as to get out,—not quite, though!” she added, thoughtfully.

“Well, first,” said Bab, “I’ll tell you about my journey to Santa Claus. That will explain a little.” And she told them all about her trip through the Wonderful Wood, and about the Sand Man, and the Brownies, and the Wooden Cow, and the arrival of the Dragon-Fly.

“But,” cried Dick, at this point, “I—I only sent the message a minute ago!”

Then he paused a minute, bewildered. Was it only a minute ago, after all? He did not seem to be able to count the time.

“My dear children,” said the Princess, “you must never try to count time in Make Believe Land. Time either does not exist here, or else there is so much of it that you simply can’t measure it. I don’t know which it is, but anyway it is silly to try to guess how long anything takes here.”

“Well,” said Bab, who didn’t care anything about time herself, “I got into Santa Claus’s sleigh, and the reindeer [Pg 156]brought me safely to the Red City. I left them in the wood, and came here as fast as I could go. A little boy showed me the way.”

“I threw some sand at the men who tried to stop me,” she said, “and they—every—single—one—went—fast—asleep!”

Bab nodded triumphantly. “I had just enough Sleep-Sand left for them!” she said.

And she jumped up, and ran to the door, stumbling over her flowing, gold-embroidered robes as she ran, and over-turning a box of jewels in her haste. She opened the door, and there, sure enough, were all the guards sound asleep on the floor outside.

“Oh, oh, oh!” cried the Princess, and hugged Bab in her excitement. “You blessed little thing! You darling! You—you’ve set me free!”

And then she hugged Dick too, and then all three of them laughed and talked all at once, and Wiggles rushed around them in a circle and howled his sympathy.

And they all scurried away out of the Palace as fast as mice. They passed the men-at-arms that Bab had met below, who were all as sound asleep as possible, just where they had happened to be when Bab threw the sand at them,—all, that is, except one man. He was only half asleep, and was yawning and stretching and trying hard to wake up.

“I’m afraid he did not get a whole grain!” said Bab, looking at him anxiously. “Well, never mind. I guess he won’t wake quite up until we are safe away, anyway. Come, come! Hurry up!”

And they ran on again. But the drowsy man-at-arms did wake quite up just at that very moment. And, yawning and shivering with sleep, he stumbled into the throne-room of the Palace, calling out, “Thief! Thief! A thief has stolen away the Princess! Help! Help!”

Now the Palace of the Wicked King was simply full of people of all sorts. There were plenty of men-at-arms, and retainers, and cooks, and gentlemen-in-waiting, and courtiers, and scullions, and pages, and maids, and court-ladies, and when the sleepy soldier cried “Thief!” and “Help!” they all came running out of their rooms all over the Palace and hurried down stairs. And there was the wildest excitement possible in the throne-room of the Wicked King.

And then the door of the royal apartments opened, and [Pg 158]the Wicked King himself appeared. And he said, in a deep angry voice, “Why is there so much noise?”

And everyone trembled and bowed low before him. For of course they were all dreadfully afraid of him!

For a minute or two no one dared to speak, and the King stood there in his crimson robes, with his gold crown on his wicked head, and glared at everybody.

“Well?” he thundered suddenly. And the sleepy soldier ventured to speak at last.

“Lord—Master—” he quavered, “two strangers have carried off the Princess!”

“What!” roared the Wicked King. “And what were you doing, all of you, while they were carrying her off?”

And then he took to his heels and ran away as hard and fast and far as he could.

The Wicked King was so disturbed by the fact of Star’s disappearance that he did not take the time and trouble to have the man caught and beheaded, as he certainly would have done at any other time.

“He has not yet appeared,” said one of the courtiers. “He has not been here to-day at all, O most augustly Wicked King!”

“Strange!” muttered the Wicked King. “Surely nothing [Pg 159]can have gone wrong? He was to have brought me the spell from the Fairy Queen before this. It should certainly be in the city by now.”

And as a matter of fact, it was in the city then, but it had not been brought by Grump! For, as we know, Grump had been robbed of all his wicked power by Meg in his underground cave, and instead of being able to fly on a cloud to his master with his woes he had to travel slowly and painfully through the wood, and over the Sea of Glass like any other every-day sort of person.

At this moment who should come swarming in but the Mischief Brownies,—the very same bad little sprites whom Bab had outwitted in Santa Claus’s barn. They hurried into the Wicked King’s Palace, and wailed out their story,—how they had stopped the mortal girl, as had been commanded, and how she had followed them and chased them out of the barn with a frightful, roaring monster, just as they had cut off one of the Wooden Cow’s magic horns.

The Wicked King listened to all that they had to say, in a white rage. Were all his plans to go wrong? The situation was infuriating! His servants outwitted by a simple, ordinary, stupid, little mortal girl; his daughter stolen! With an awful growl of anger he waved his hand.

“Follow the thieves!” he cried. “Men-at-arms! Courtiers! Servants! Gentlemen-in-waiting! Catch them at once! Half my kingdom for the man who brings me the heads of the scoundrels and returns to me my daughter!”

Before a single breath could be drawn, a whole army of his subjects had rushed away after the escaping three. And then who do you suppose came stumbling into the throne-room, making a great outcry and waving his arms wildly? None other than Grump!

“Master!—Your Majesty!” he panted. “She tipped over the pot of magic, and she escaped! She has gone to Fairyland! What shall we do? What shall we do?”

“I have not lost all of my magic yet,” he thundered. “You are a pretty sort of a servant! You’re an idiot! A useless, slow, dull idiot! You’re a snail!”

And Grump shrivelled up and turned into a snail, and crawled away into a crack in the Palace wall. And that was the end of him!

Then a messenger came flying to the Wicked King, and cried: “Oh, Master! They have run the thieves into a corner under the city wall, and soon they will be caught and beheaded!”

“I should like the pleasure of doing it myself!” said the Wicked King, grimly. “Have them left alive until I get there!”

And he stalked out of the Palace, and followed the messenger through the streets of the Red City.

Finally he came upon a great crowd of his subjects, and [Pg 161]beyond them, standing against the wall, were Bab and Dick and the Princess, frightened almost to death!

“Ah!” said the Wicked King, with a cruel smile. “Now I have you, you impudent creatures! You upstarts from the Real World! Now I will cut off your heads with my own hands!”

The three escaping friends did not know what to do. Bab had used up all her sand, and there seemed no way left to overcome their enemies.

And everyone became silent. They were all deeply disappointed, for they knew that now the Wicked King would insist on killing the children himself, and none of them would stand a chance of getting that promised half of his kingdom.

“Dick,” she whispered, “we must try to get the Wicked King to put us in prison or something like that!”

“Why?” asked Dick, gloomily. “I think that it would be much nicer to be killed at once and get it over!”

“Oh, but, Dick!” Bab breathed eagerly into his ear. “Don’t you remember the tiny piece of wood that I told you about? The piece of magic wood from the Wooden Cow’s horn? Well, I have it still! and Santa Claus said that it was a very powerful weapon to have. And if we can only see the Wicked King alone I’ll throw it at him, and I’m sure from what Santa Claus said that it will do something awful to him!”

“Why not throw it at him now?” suggested Dick. “Just to see what it will do!”

“Because—don’t you see?—then we’d have all these other dreadful people to fight, and we’ve nothing at all left after this splinter of wood goes! No, we must try to see the Wicked King all by himself!”

“I see!” exclaimed Dick. And at that moment the Wicked King strode up to them, with his long, bright, sharp sword drawn, and a fiendish smile on his wicked old face.

“How nice of you,” said the Wicked King, “to stand [Pg 167]against a wall! It is ever so much easier to kill a person when he stands against a wall!”

“Oh, your Majesty!” cried Dick. “Don’t kill us until you have heard our story!”

He was talking at random, of course, to gain time, but he succeeded in making the Wicked King stop short for a moment to listen.

“Oh, well,” said the Wicked King. “I would not mind hearing your story, as a matter of fact,—if it happens to be an interesting one.”

For this was the one weakness of the Wicked King: he loved stories,—almost as much, indeed, as did a certain great ruler in the East, of whom you will read one of these days in one of the most splendid wonder-books ever written by any man.

“Of course you understand,” said the King, “that you will both be beheaded just as soon as you are finished? I should not like to encourage any false hopes.”

“Oh, we quite understand!” said Dick, looking hard at the drawn sword in the King’s hand. In his own mind he decided firmly that in any case he would not finish the story for a very long time!

“I should really like to hear,” the Wicked King went on, “how you stole my daughter and sent my soldiers to sleep, and [Pg 168]how you chased my Brownies away from their work, and did all the other extraordinary and impertinent things which you have done. You are dangerous creatures, but you are unusual; and I think you are worth keeping alive for an hour or so,—as long as I have an army to watch you while you talk!”

Dick was at his wits’ end. Of course he had expected that the Wicked King would have them sent to prison; instead he was expected to tell his tale surrounded by hundreds of people. How in the world was Bab to make use of her magic splint of wood under such conditions as these?

The Princess, who had been silent all this time, came very unexpectedly to the rescue.

“Revered parent,” she said,—for that was what the Wicked King liked her to call him,—“I beg you to first take me back to my tower, from which these creatures have dragged me against my will!”

The Wicked King looked at her sharply. He was not at all sure that she had been dragged away! However, she looked as innocent as possible, and he called two men-at-arms to him.

“Escort the Princess back to her tower!” he commanded. “Now, Creatures, tell your story!”

But just then, when everything seemed most hopeless, a big bird was seen flying toward them, quite high up in the air; and the next moment Bizzybuzz’s head appeared over [Pg 169]the wall, and he whispered excitedly: “Meg is coming with the spell! Hold out a minute longer!”

All this time Humpty Dumpty had not said a word. In fact, he could not see even what was going on, because his back was turned to the others. But at the word “spell” he suddenly lifted up his voice, and shouted wildly: “The spell! The spell! Now I shall be free! Oh, Princess Star, Princess Star! Do you hear? I shall be free!”

“I hear, I hear, dear Humpty!” cried Princess Star. “And I shall be free too; for I am sure that a really good spell can rescue us both!”

“Undutiful daughter!” shouted the Wicked King, waving his sword. “How dare you talk like that with an—an egg?” He spoke with contempt as well as rage.

“He—is—not—an—egg!” sobbed the Princess, hiding her face in her satin sleeve and spoiling the embroidery with her tears. “He’s my—own—poor—angel—Humpty Dumpty! And I’ll talk to—him—just exactly—as much—as—much—as—I ch-choose!”

The big bird had been drawing nearer and nearer all this time, and now swooped down to the top of the wall. It alighted close to Humpty Dumpty. Dick and Bab could see that it was Moon-Eyes, the Owl, and that he bore upon his back their sister Meg!

As they watched, she waved a bright blue paper, and cried: “Dick! Bab! I’m here! Are you both quite safe?”

With his sword upraised, the Wicked King rushed forward [Pg 170]upon the two children. Wiggles barked and snapped at his legs, all the men-at-arms shouted, and the Princess screamed loudly.

But at that moment Bab threw the scrap of wood that she had straight in the Wicked King’s face! And he stopped stock-still, his hand still up in the air. The sword dropped to the earth. Everyone cried out, “What has happened?”

The Wicked King’s face got queerer and queerer, stiffer and stiffer; his eyes stared, his wicked smile was frozen on his lips.... The Wicked King was turned to wood!

“Run, run!” cried Dick, seeing that now they had but one chance. “Follow Meg with the spell!” he shouted, and he and Bab and the Princess ran like the wind along the city wall.

“Oh, please,” he called at the top of his lungs, “don’t forget that you are going to save me too!”

Meg, riding furiously upon Moon-Eyes, had reached the gate. The men-at-arms and courtiers and gentlemen-in-waiting, and all the other citizens of the Red City, had started in pursuit, and were gaining on them every moment.

“Come with us, Mudge!” shouted Dick; and Mudge brought up the rear of the flying procession.

Behind them on the wall Humpty Dumpty was shrieking, “You aren’t all going off without rescuing me, after all!”

As they all rushed toward the big iron gate, Meg hastily unrolled the scroll of sky-blue paper, and read out at the top of her voice, and so fast that no one could understand a word, the lines of the Fairy Queen’s spell. And when she came to the words

The fugitives dashed out, and closed it behind them with a crash, and stood there on the safe side, panting and gasping, as their pursuers came shouting up to the gate on the inside. It must have been a very strong gate, for nearly all the inhabitants of the Red City threw themselves against it and shook it, but it would not give a hair’s breadth. They all howled with fury, but the children were safe.

“Look out for Humpty Dumpty!” shouted Dick “They’ll try to do something to harm him if we don’t take care!”

The three children sprang onto the owl, and the Princess [Pg 172]and Wiggles hurried along the ground. Bizzybuzz darted ahead, his wings humming like little electric fans.

“Here is the spell!” cried Meg, giving Dick the blue paper. “You only have to read it over him, and you must strike him with something hard and sharp at the same time!”

Dick seized the paper, and pulled his jack-knife out of his pocket. Then he stood up on Moon-Eyes’ back, so that he could be ready to jump the moment they were anywhere near the wall and Humpty Dumpty.

When they reached the poor Egg, he was almost cracked with terror. His agonized expression had made big creases in the egg-shell, and he was squeaking, “Help! help! help!” in a high faint voice.

The men were just climbing up the wall on the inside, so really there was some excuse for his fear.

And Dick took a flying leap from the back of the owl to the top of the city wall.

“Don’t forget to break the shell!” cried Meg. He held up his knife, to show her that he was prepared. The head of one of the men-at-arms appeared over the edge of the wall. His hand was outstretched.

Dick jabbed the huge egg-shell with his jack-knife, and began to read the spell so rapidly that it was a wonder that it could work at all!

“Oh, I don’t think he will kill me!” laughed Dick, and slipped over the edge of the wall into the mass of delicate vine-tendrils where the Fairy Flowers were blowing.

“Help me!” he cried, and came down so quickly that there could be no question about its being magic! He reached the earth just in time to see a slender young man in doublet and hose rise from the heap of egg-shells, and rush with outstretched hands to meet the Princess!

By this time Bab and Meg had sprung to the earth, and they all joined in a cheer of joy.

“Good-bye to you!” cried Mudge. “I’m going back to my father, the Sea Kobold. He has been expecting me for hundreds of years, and he will get me some new scales. Thank you very much for helping me to get away. Good-bye! Good-bye!” And he was off.

The Sea of Glass was close at hand, and Dick imagined that he could see the Sea Kobold’s anxious head sticking up through the hole in the glass, and watching what was happening on shore.

“There’s no time to be lost even now,” declared Bizzybuzz. “Hurry, all of you!”

Several of the men-at-arms had reached the top of the wall, and the children could hear one of them calling for the big [Pg 178]key that opened the gate, and horses on which to hunt down the escaping ones.

“Hurry!” said Bizzybuzz, even more anxiously. And they all ran as fast as they could in the direction of the wood.

Bizzybuzz flew on ahead, calling to them to hurry; next came Humpty Dumpty and the Princess,—she holding up her long train and not caring at all that her crown was on the side of her pretty head,—and then Bab, and Meg, and Dick, and Wiggles!

There, at the edge of the wood, was Santa Claus’s sleigh, with his splendid reindeer, waiting impatiently to be off.

“The gate is open!” he exclaimed. “And they have gotten horses too! They are going to try to catch us!”

“Never mind!” laughed Bizzybuzz, overhead, as the reindeer plunged forward eagerly, and the sleigh rocked with the mad motion,—“Never mind! They’ll have a pretty time—horses or no horses—trying to catch up with Santa Claus’s fastest team!”

And then began the craziest, wildest, swiftest drive that anyone ever saw or dreamed of. The horses of the people of the Red City were the fastest in the world, but they were not so fast as the reindeer, and they never quite overtook them. But sometimes they seemed to be drawing very close, and then the Princess would scream, and Wiggles would bark, and the reindeer would toss their antlers and go just a little bit faster. [Pg 179]And the racing horses behind, their heads strained forward and their hoofs hardly seeming to touch the ground, would drop back a foot or two. Their riders waved their arms and shouted, and once in a while the occupants of the sleigh could hear threats as to what would happen to them all when they were caught.

On they went,—on, and on, and on! And neither the horses nor the reindeer seemed to be even tired. The reindeer, indeed, seemed to enjoy the race, and their small hoofs actually danced over the earth.

Suddenly they passed a barefooted girl in a green dress, who laughed and waved to them.

“Hush!” said Bizzybuzz. “You don’t know who she is,—you foolish little persons! But whoever she is, she is going to help us now, or I am very much mistaken.”

They all stood up in the sleigh to look, and saw a very wonderful and pretty sight. The girl in the green gown was fastening chains of flowers across the wood-path,—back and forth, back and forth, so that the whole way was simply barred and blocked with roses, and lilies, and daisies, and bluebells, and hyacinths, and sweet peas, and every other delicious blossom that you can think of.

Now along came the people of the Red City, and the girl in the green dress slipped away into the forest; but she probably [Pg 180]peeked a little from behind some tree, and saw what happened afterward. The horses plunged at full speed into the maze of flowers that she had prepared for them, and however they might leap and push and struggle and trample, they could not get through the flower-chains. You see, making chains of flowers happened to be the green-gowned girl’s pet hobby, and no one in the world could ever break the chains she made.

But just two riders did manage to force their horses through, and Dick, looking back,—of course that check had given them a splendid advantage,—saw two steeds galloping wildly after them.

“Never fear,” said Bizzybuzz, cheerfully. “These children have too many friends in the Make Believe Land for there to be any danger. Someone else will happen along before long, and see that those two Red City persons have more trouble!”

Now the three children had not realised before that they had made many friends in Make Believe Land, and the thought surprised and pleased them more than they would have believed possible. There was a little warm glow around each of their hearts, and they looked up at little Bizzybuzz gratefully.

“Telling you!” laughed Bizzybuzz. “You will not need to be told it pretty soon!”

Once more the Red City horses seemed to be gaining upon them. Suddenly two huge owls flew out of the depths of the forest and began to flap around the heads of the galloping horses.

Bizzybuzz nodded. “And the other,” he said, “is the Tail-less One, the Owl Innkeeper!”

“Oh, how nice of them both!” cried Bab. “They won’t hurt the horses, will they?”

“Oh, dear, no!” said Bizzybuzz. “But they may succeed in driving at least one of them back.”

And indeed that is just what they did. One of the horses shied, and reared, and finally wheeled straight about. The man fell off, and, though he was not at all hurt, was so angry that he almost had a fit. He stood in the centre of the path and shook his fist at the trees on each side of him, as though he suspected them of having had something to do with it.

The horse, with the owls after it, was running home to the Red City as fast as it could possibly go.

The second rider had not stopped to see whether his [Pg 182]comrade had been killed or not, and was riding after the sleigh faster than ever.

“Ah, little Miss Meg!” said Bizzybuzz. “You are beginning to trust your friends!”

“Yes,” said Meg, with a sigh. “But really I didn’t think I should ever trust anyone again, after the horrid time I had with Grump!”

“Well, I’ve just come from the Palace of the Wicked King. You know I like to lunch upon the green flowers that grow on that big tree under the Princess’s window. I was sitting happily on one of the lower branches, when a snail came crawling along the limb toward me.”

“Well, what of that?” said Bizzybuzz, impatiently. “There are many snails.”

“Not many like this one. The snail seemed lonely, and though I hate all snails, I could not refuse to talk to it when it sat itself down beside me. It talked a great deal of nonsense at first,—all about its departed glory, and how it hated the [Pg 183]Wicked King, and stuff of that sort. But finally it told me who it was, or rather, who it had been before it became a snail. It was Grump!”

Of course, this does not surprise you, for you have known it all along, but it surprised the children tremendously.

“Poor Grump!” sighed Meg. “He tried to boil me down, and use my soul in a magic essence, but I really think that I am sorry to think that he has got to be a snail for the rest of his life.”

Out between the trees on their left stalked a strange animal,—strange, at least, to all of them except Bab and the reindeer.

“You can’t stop the sleigh,” said Dick. “Look at that man on horseback who is still following us.”

“I think that she is right,” said Bizzybuzz. “It is safe to stop the sleigh, for this beast has evidently been sent by Santa Claus to help us.”

The reindeer seemed to think so too, for they stopped short and even wheeled around. The Wooden Cow approached them with short, stiff steps.

“I have the honour,” she remarked, “to offer you my services. I have come all the way from the far north to help you.”

“Well, there’s no time to lose,” said Bizzybuzz, looking [Pg 184]at the quickly nearing figures of the man and the horse. “If you can do anything, please do it soon.”

The Wooden Cow turned away, and walked, with its own wooden dignity, to meet the rider from the Red City. When it was quite close to him, it stopped, and stood motionless in the middle of the path, and stared straight ahead of it at the galloping horseman.

The horse stopped short. The man on its back became utterly still. There was a sort of a pause, and then the same dreadful change began to come over both horse and man which they had seen come over the Wicked King. They both turned to wood, and the expressions on the two wooden faces—that of the man and the animal alike—were so wicked and cruel and horrid that one could not feel at all sorry that they had been turned to wood.

The Wooden Cow returned with slow and solemn steps to the sleigh. Her horn was still tied on with Bab’s ribbon, and the top of her head was smeared in places with the sticky black paint and saw-dust.

“You dear old thing!” she said. “How sweet of you to turn up just now to help us!”

“No one sent me,” she declared. “I heard of the trouble you were in, and I came to see what I could do. I can usually turn people into wood when I don’t like them, and I was grateful to the little girl who put on my horn and chased the Mischief Brownies away. Now that my duty is done, I will go back to Santa Claus’s barn.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, dear Wooden Cow,” cried Bab. “Give my love to Santa Claus when you get home!”

Finally Bizzybuzz pointed ahead to where a little clearing was shining in a soft, sunset light. In it was a small, pretty cottage, from the chimney of which a thin trail of blue smoke floated up into the sky. In front of it was a gay little garden, and when Humpty Dumpty saw it, he almost wept.

And so Bab, Meg, and Dick came back to Mother Goose’s cottage at last, and brought with them Prince Humpty Dumpty and the Princess Star.

It seemed to our three children, when they saw the cottage, that a very, very long time had passed since they left it to start upon their various adventures.

It all seemed very natural and homelike, somehow, coming back to the quaint little house, with its bright garden, and its latticed windows, and the door with its funny string-latch. In spite of their excitement, and all their narrow escapes, and everything that they all had been through, a feeling of peace came over them, and they felt happy enough to cry when the cottage door opened, and Mother Goose herself smiled at them from the threshold.

Of course there was the greatest sort of rejoicing when she and Humpty Dumpty met after all the centuries of their separation, [Pg 190]and after they had kissed and hugged and cried over each other, she welcomed the Princess, and kissed her too very kindly. And finally she turned, with her very sweetest, gentlest look, to the three children who were standing together, silently looking on.

“Thank you, dear children,” she said. “You have served me very well, very bravely and very truly, and I am grateful.”

“Oh, Mother Goose,” broke out Bab, conscientiously, “I’m afraid if you knew—”

“I do know,” said Mother Goose. “At this moment I am reading your eyes, and I can see every single thing that has happened to you all while you have been away,—not only what you have done, but what you have thought.”

She looked keenly at them and smiled. And they all hung their heads and blushed a little, for they were remembering the many times that they had been weak or forgetful or cowardly.

“But,” she went on, “knowing everything, dears, I still thank you, and praise you, for you have done very well,—much, much better than you know. And that,” she added, “is something for you to remember; we are always a little bit better than we think, and so when we are naughty, the best thing for us to do is to say to ourselves, ‘Dear me, I am not giving myself a chance! I am really good; why am I trying so hard to be bad?’”

And the children never forgot what she said. You will do well to remember it too.

“And now,” went on Mother Goose, with a delightfully mysterious smile, “I have planned a little surprise for you.”

“Yes. I am sure that you do not want to go home without seeing again some of the friends that you have made here; and besides, I should like you to know some of my own particular friends,—whom you should have met long before, by the bye.”

“And where must we go?” sighed Dick, who was quite content to stay where he was for the present, after all his adventures.

Mother Goose smiled again. She quite beamed upon them through her gold-rimmed spectacles.

“They are all coming here,” she declared. “I’m giving a party for you, and every one in this part of the world is coming to it.”

“Oh, what fun!” they exclaimed, clapping their hands. “How dear of you, Mother Goose!”

“Well,” said Mother Goose, “I confess I am disappointed not to have the Piper family,—Jack and Jill, and Contrary Mary, and the rest. Some of my best songs have been written about them, and I am devoted to them all. But they are away just now, on a visit to a very remote part of the country,—Toyland, in fact,—and I have not been able to send for them [Pg 192]in time to get them back. Then, the Man in the Moon and his pretty wife have sent regrets; they have some party on the Milky Way which they simply have to go to, so she says. And Hop O’ My Thumb is half a world away, and is having one of his seven-league boots mended, so he is uncertain about getting here in time; but he has promised to make a great effort to come at any cost. But even without these especially good friends of mine, there will be quite enough to make things merry. And I do love a party, even at my age!”

At the same moment Bizzybuzz called from the door that the owls were coming. Mother Goose went forward to meet them, and the children were soon greeting all their old friends,—Moon-Eyes and his wife, the Lady Gray-Wing, and the Owl Innkeeper, and several other owls whom they recognised as having been at the Owls’ Inn on the night of the storm; also the big white owl who had carried the little Witch of Silence to the foot of the Ladder of Light that led to the North Star.

Bab asked him when he expected the Witch home; but he merely blinked at her without answering, and she remembered that he never spoke.

Moon-Eyes and the Owl Innkeeper gave an exciting account of how they had chased the horse of the Red City man back to the city gates.

“It’s too bad to frighten the poor horse,” said Meg, “but I suppose that it had to be done.”

“Oh, the Red City horses are as bad as the Red City [Pg 193]men,” said the Owl Innkeeper,—“which is saying a great deal more than I like to say about man or beast.”

“And anyway,” added Moon-Eyes, “we didn’t hurt the horse, of course. We just talked to him, and persuaded him that he would rather go home than chase you!”

“Yes!” laughed Dick. “I certainly should think he would rather go home with you after him as you were!”

Lady Gray-Wing had brought with her the Red Squirrel whom they had met at luncheon in her nest. He seemed delighted to see them, and begged them to postpone their departure from Make Believe Land, so that he could give them a real woodland party. He said that he had some friends among the Frog family, who were truly charming, and he would be so glad to introduce them.

Next came Klang and Tinkle, the two Musical Goblins, and Green-Wings, the Dragon-Fly. And there were several Fairies from the magical Flower Meadow at the edge of Fairyland. The Sand Man, too, was there, and the Wooden Cow, who explained that all her plans had been changed by the invitation which had come to her from Mother Goose, and that she had put off her return to Santa Claus’s country simply to come to the party.

Most unexpected of all was the arrival of the Sea Kobold and Mudge, both dripping sea-water, but smiling amiably upon everyone. Mudge had a new set of scales, of which he seemed very proud, and the Sea Kobold had discovered that with the overthrow of the Wicked King his glass lid had melted away; [Pg 194]so the ocean was as good as ever, and there was no longer any Sea of Glass.

Soon after this the strangers began to arrive, and such queer, delightful people as they all were! The children felt terribly ashamed of themselves not to know more about their histories, for they were evidently famous people, all of them, and it did seem dreadful to think that they might know all about them if only they had been willing to read a few fairy-books now and then!

There was one little old woman, with cloudy gray robes and a huge broomstick. When they asked, timidly, who she was, she answered with haughtiness: “I am the Old Woman who Sweeps the Cobwebs from the Sky! Everyone in the world knows me!”

Then there were two lovely ladies, with marvellous hair, who came together. One explained that she was the Fair One with Golden Locks; the other said that she was Rapunzel, on whose yellow hair a fairy Prince had climbed up to her tower window to rescue her. The Three Little Bears trotted in together, and Puss in Boots followed soon after; and the four joked together about bowls of porridge, until the three mortal children wished they knew what they meant. Wiggles made friends with them at once!

Snow White and Rose Red strolled in with Jack the Giant-Killer, and the other Jack who explained that he was famous for house-building. A drowsy-looking lady, leaning upon the arm of a very splendid Prince, announced herself as the Sleeping [Pg 195]Beauty, and another charming person declared that her name was Cinderella, but that she was now happily married, and did not sit by the fire and weep any more!

“No, I’m the one who does that!” cried a voice just behind her. And a very pretty girl made her appearance. They all laughed, and began to sing:

“It’s all Mother’s fault,” declared Cross Patch, going to Mother Goose and kissing her lovingly. “No one would ever have dreamed of calling me Cross Patch if she hadn’t made up that silly song just to punish me for a fit of temper!”

Cross Patch turned out to be Mother Goose’s own daughter, and a very merry, sweet little person she was. Mother Goose herself laughed as she greeted her little girl.

Still a third Jack made his appearance just then, carrying a piece of a bean-stalk, and he was soon followed by a lovely lady and a Prince who announced that they were Beauty and the Beast.

“He doesn’t look a bit like a beast,” cried Meg, watching them. Cross Patch laughed.

“He was only a beast until Beauty kissed him,” she said. “I really must admit that he was pretty bad up to that time!”

A little girl who wore her hair straight back from her [Pg 196]forehead, carried a looking-glass, and was followed by a pack of live cards, came next.

“Alice!” exclaimed Mother Goose. “I am glad to see you! I was afraid you wouldn’t come, since you don’t belong to my kingdom properly. I have always wished that you were one of my very own girls!”

“Hello!” cried a voice outside. “I’m here, Mother Goose, but I had to hop all the way on one leg! That shoemaker would not send me back my left boot in time!”

In came Hop O’ My Thumb himself,—a very tiny person, but wearing one huge boot. They all laughed at him, but he was evidently very popular, and the children made up their minds to read all about him just as soon as they could possibly get home.

More and more Make Believe persons came, until it seemed beyond all things wonderful that they were all able to get into Mother Goose’s tiny cottage. But of course in Make Believe Land all things were possible, and as a matter of fact, in recognising that, our three children had learned their last and greatest lesson.

When all the guests had arrived, they had a country dance on the grass outside. The sun was setting, and the light was lovelier than any evening glow that poet or artist ever saw in the real world. The forest shadows mingled with the gold and crimson glory streaming in from the wonderful distant West, and the flowers in Mother Goose’s garden seemed to glow like little rainbow lamps, to light the feet of the dancers.

And such a funny dance as it was! Klang and Tinkle got out their queer little lutes, and some sad-eyed Necker appeared, and a host of sprites and elves of all kinds took their places as the musicians of the occasion. And when the dance began, there was the oddest assortment in the way of partners that you could imagine.

Bab danced with her old friend the Sand Man, Meg with Mudge,—dear little scaly Mudge!—and Dick with Cross Patch. Humpty Dumpty danced with Princess Star, of course, and Mother Goose with the Sea Kobold. Bizzybuzz had the Old Woman who Sweeps the Cobwebs from the Sky for a partner, Puss in Boots had the Sleeping Beauty, and the other Beauty danced with Hop O’ My Thumb. The Three Little Bears paired off respectively with Cinderella, Alice in Wonderland, and Lady Gray-Wing. Moon-Eyes and the Owl Innkeeper were allotted to Snow White and Rose Red. One of the three Jacks—the one who was accustomed to giant-killing—danced with the Wooden Cow, and the other two were very well content with Rapunzel and the Fair One with Golden Locks. The so-called “Beast” flirted gaily with the fairy with whom he danced, and the Dragon-Fly hummed cheerfully as he followed the measures of the dance with another merry elf. The Red Squirrel also danced with a fairy.

At last, as the sunset radiance faded, and the stars peered out far above, the music waned and died, and the guests, one by one and two by two, began to slip away, with a word of [Pg 198]thanks to Mother Goose, and a kindly farewell to the three mortal children.

Those who were their own particular friends expressed a hope that they would all meet again some day; the others merely said that they were glad that they had met.

Off among the dim woodland spaces drifted the Make Believe folk, and Mother Goose and the children returned to the little cottage, lighted warmly yet softly by the flickering blaze from the fireplace.

And then Mother Goose called them to the table, where supper was already waiting, and they began to eat. The children were very hungry, and it seemed to them that they had never had such good things to eat in all their lives. But afterward when they tried to remember what they had had, they found that was a misty blank.

Then after supper they sat around the fire, and Mother Goose got out her spinning-wheel and sang to them all the dear, wonderful, foolish songs that every child knows—or ought to know.

And she made a song about the rescue of Humpty Dumpty. You have all heard it, but don’t you wish you [Pg 202]could have heard it when it was first made up, as Bab and Meg and Dick did, by the cheerful little fire in Mother Goose’s cottage?

“Mother Goose,” said Dick, rather shyly, “do—do you think that we could be pardoned now for—for not believing in—in—Make Believe things?”

“I’m sure of it,” answered Mother Goose. “You are no longer stupid little unbelieving children, with dull eyes and deaf ears,—you have learned to believe in the most wonderful things in any world—which are the Make Believe things,—and you will be thankful all your lives. And do you know whom you have to thank for all this?”

“In Make Believe Land,” she said, “there are many kingdoms, and we are all rulers in our own way. But over us all is placed a great and wonderful Queen. She is the real ruler of Make Believe Land.”

“Oh, who is she?” cried all three children. “Can’t we see her before we go?”

“You have all seen her,” replied Mother Goose. “Guess, if you can, who she is!”

“You must have guessed that she was the lady who appeared to all of you,” said Mother Goose. “You all saw her when you were in Santa Claus’s sleigh.”

“We had forgotten!” they declared. “We were so excited! Oh, Mother Goose, was she the—”

“She takes a great many shapes, this great Queen of ours,” said Mother Goose. “Indeed, she says that no one knows, nor ever will know, her real name. Sometimes she wears a ragged dress, and often she forgets her crown and leaves it at home; but whether she is an Idle Princess, or a Lady of Dreams-Come-True, or a Fairy of Fancy,—she is always our beloved lady,—whom I hope you will know and love, too, all your lives long,—the dear, immortal, young, ancient girl-queen of Make Believe Land.”

“That,” said Mother Goose, with a little smile, “depends upon yourselves. To those who love her she is always ready to come. But from those who forget her, or slight her, or try to live without her, she is careful to keep away. When you want her, she will be with you. Your eyes have been opened by your stay here, so that you will always be able to recognise her. Many people in the Real World meet her face to face, but do not know who she is. But in all times of great happiness or trouble, in all summer nights or snowstorms, and in all your dreams and hopes, and later in whatever romance life may have thrown your lots,—you will see her in her green gown smiling at you from under her little crown of stars.”

“Mother,” interrupted Bizzybuzz, respectfully, “are the mortal children to go home, now that their work is done?”

“Yes,” said Mother Goose, and looked just a wee bit sad,—“yes, yes! Of course they must go home! Come, my children, come and kiss me good-bye!”

She drew them all three into her arms, and kissed them, one by one. Then Humpty Dumpty and the Princess said good-bye, and Star cried a little.

“Oh, dear!” sighed Bab. “Shall we never come back to Make Believe Land any more?”

“My dears,” said Mother Goose, “I am going to tell you something which you may not understand for a great many years. But it is true all the same. The Real World, as it [Pg 205]is called, is nothing at all but a very small corner of Make Believe Land!”

Then she drew them once more into her arms, and held them close, and they felt themselves growing sleepier and sleepier, and the warm comfort of her arms seemed to wrap them round closely and happily. They felt as though they were in their mother’s arms at home, and they knew suddenly that they had become nothing but little, little babies, and that their heads were nodding against Mother Goose’s breast.

And as they lay so in her arms, she began to rock them softly to and fro, and croon the queerest, quaintest little lullaby to them. They did not know in the least what it was all about, but it was drowsy and motherly, and made them think of night-lights, and bath-tubs, and coverlids pulled up close and warm on winter nights. And then they knew that, whatever it was, it was what they always seemed to hear when their mother used to creep into their room during a thunder-storm, “just to see that they were all right and not frightened!”

Held so in Mother Goose’s arms, they all dreamed—for they were almost asleep, you know—that they saw a nightgowned figure, stealing close and closer, lowering the light, and softly mending the fire; and a dear dream voice whispered: “Hush, darling, hush! It’s only Mamma. Go to sleep.” And then came a kiss as light as a breath. Their minds seemed confused; was it their own mother or Mother Goose? [Pg 206]They never knew, for the next moment, and before they had time to decide, they were all three fast asleep.

When they opened their eyes,—it seemed but one dreamy minute later,—they were all three back on the nursery hearth-rug. The fire was almost out, and Nurse was just coming in.

Was it only fancy, or did they hear the faint whirr of Bizzybuzz’s wings as he flew away?

Transcribers Notes

ALT text has been added to all of the pictures, although some of them have captions.

Spelling isn't always consistent. For some words several variants can be encountered e.g. “sword-fish” and “swordfish”. Principally no corrections have been made. However, there are some rather obvious printing errors that have been corrected. These are listed below.

Corrections:

Frontispiece “Page 26” changed to “Page 34” to correspond with the list of illustrations
Page 53 “fox terrier” changed to “fox-terrier”
Page 66 Single quote changed to double quote
Page 69 Period inserted between “forest” and “She”
Page 76 “shapened” changed to “sharpened”
Page 142 “really” changed to “real”
Pages 148 and 149 “Moon Eyes” changed to “Moon-Eyes”
Page 169 “Moon-eyes” changed to “Moon-Eyes”

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Chapter		Page
I	The Way It All Began	1
II	Make-Believing	7
III	At the Owls’ Inn	19
IV	Mother Goose’s Cottage	31
V	Through the Wonderful Wood	43
VI	How Bab Rescued the Wooden Cow	55
VII	Meg’s Journey to Fairyland	67
VIII	The Court of the Fairy Queen	81
IX	Under the Sea of Glass	93
X	A Fish Tea-Party	105
XI	Into the City of the Wicked King	117
XII	Princess Star	129
XIII	“Harness the Reindeer! ”	137
XIV	Danger!	151
XV	By the City Wall	163
XVI	Behind the Reindeer	175
XVII	Mother Goose Once More	187
XVIII	At Last	199

	PAGE
They all three stood in a row before her [Page 34]	Frontispiece
The Owl-Innkeeper’s story [Page 23]	38
Bab and the Sand Man [ Page 51]	84
“She was surely the Queen of the Fairy Folk” [Page 89]	120
“‘I don’t think I like you,’ said the Sea Kobold; ‘you may go’” [Page 98 ]	146
They were all three back on the nursery hearth rug [Page 206]	192

The Project Gutenberg eBook of The true story of Humpty Dumpty

To ALICE

CONTENTS

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

I The Way It All Began

CHAPTER I The Way It All Began

II Make-Believing

CHAPTER II Make-Believing

III At the Owls’ Inn

CHAPTER III At the Owls’ Inn

IV Mother Goose’s Cottage

CHAPTER IV Mother Goose’s Cottage

V Through the Wonderful Wood

CHAPTER V Through the Wonderful Wood

VI How Bab Rescued the Wooden Cow

CHAPTER VI How Bab Rescued the Wooden Cow

VII Meg’s Journey to Fairyland

CHAPTER VII Meg’s Journey to Fairyland

VIII The Court of the Fairy Queen

CHAPTER VIII The Court of the Fairy Queen

IX Under the Sea of Glass

CHAPTER IX Under the Sea of Glass

X A Fish Tea-Party

CHAPTER X A Fish Tea-Party

XI Into the City of the Wicked King

CHAPTER XI Into the City of the Wicked King

XII Princess Star

CHAPTER XII Princess Star

XIII “Harness the Reindeer!”

CHAPTER XIII “Harness the Reindeer!”

XIV Danger!

CHAPTER XIV Danger!

XV By the City Wall

CHAPTER XV By the City Wall

XVI Behind the Reindeer

CHAPTER XVI Behind the Reindeer

XVII Mother Goose Once More

CHAPTER XVII Mother Goose Once More

XVIII At Last

CHAPTER XVIII At Last

Transcribers Notes

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE

I
The Way It All Began

CHAPTER I
The Way It All Began

II
Make-Believing

CHAPTER II
Make-Believing

III
At the Owls’ Inn

CHAPTER III
At the Owls’ Inn

IV
Mother Goose’s Cottage

CHAPTER IV
Mother Goose’s Cottage

V
Through the Wonderful Wood

CHAPTER V
Through the Wonderful Wood

VI
How Bab Rescued the Wooden Cow

CHAPTER VI
How Bab Rescued the Wooden Cow

VII
Meg’s Journey to Fairyland

CHAPTER VII
Meg’s Journey to Fairyland

VIII
The Court of the Fairy Queen

CHAPTER VIII
The Court of the Fairy Queen

IX
Under the Sea of Glass

CHAPTER IX
Under the Sea of Glass

X
A Fish Tea-Party

CHAPTER X
A Fish Tea-Party

XI
Into the City of the Wicked King

CHAPTER XI
Into the City of the Wicked King

XII
Princess Star

CHAPTER XII
Princess Star

XIII
“Harness the Reindeer!”

CHAPTER XIII
“Harness the Reindeer!”

XIV
Danger!

CHAPTER XIV
Danger!

XV
By the City Wall

CHAPTER XV
By the City Wall

XVI
Behind the Reindeer

CHAPTER XVI
Behind the Reindeer

XVII
Mother Goose Once More

CHAPTER XVII
Mother Goose Once More

XVIII
At Last

CHAPTER XVIII
At Last