CHAPTER X
THE HOME OF HO-LOR
“I live over there,” said Ho-Lor with pride, pointing to the island with the pagoda on it. “Mi-Hy shall row us across, and Gra-Shus shall make us some tea.”
“Oh! yes,” said Gra-Shus clapping her hands. “And we’ll show Mr. Majesty Wallypug our beautiful pet dog – won’t we?”
It was impossible not to be interested in these quaint and simple-minded little folk, and after we had all stepped into the little boat and Mi-Hy had pushed off, his Majesty was soon chatting affably with Ho-Lor, who explained that he was a mandarin of the Blue Button, and ninety-eighth-cousin-twice-removed to the Emperor of China.
We soon reached the opposite bank, and his Majesty having been ceremoniously assisted out of the boat, we ascended a slight hill, and soon found ourselves before Ho-Lor’s residence. To our great surprise we found that it exactly resembled the building so familiar to all who have seen a willow-pattern plate.
The tall pillars at the portico, the quaintly-shaped curly roofs, the little zig-zag fence running along the path, and the curious trees, all seemed to be old friends – while two little islands, one of which was connected to the mainland by a quaint bridge, completed the picture.
The two birds, which had by this time finished squabbling about the sandwich, were billing and cooing over our heads, and the sight of them seemed suddenly to convince us of the identity of the spot.
“Why, this must be the land of the Willow-pattern plate,” cried his Majesty excitedly.
“Yes, it is,” admitted Ho-Lor. “Don’t you think it is a very pretty spot?”
“Charming,” declared the Wallypug; “I have often wanted to come here.”
“The real name of the place,” said Ho-Lor, “is Wer-har-wei, and it is a portion of China; but come, you must see our little dog; I can hear that Mi-Hy has gone to fetch him.”
“His name is Kis-Smee,” said Gra-Shus, “and he is such a dear old thing. We’ve had him ever since he was a puppy.”
There was a sound of barking, and a confused clattering of chains, which told of a dog being unloosed. A moment afterwards there came bounding out of the house the most extraordinary-looking creature that I have ever beheld.
It was a very fat and atrociously hideous animal, bearing but slight resemblance to a dog. Its enormous mouth wore a perpetual grin, and was decorated at the corners with curious little scallops. It was bandy-legged, and its hinder legs were much longer than the front ones. Added to this, the skin on its haunches was wrinkled up into curious kind of rosettes, while its tail was really all sorts of shapes.
This beautiful creature came careering down the steps, dragging Mi-Hy with him, and was hailed with delight by Gra-Shus, who cried in endearing tones:
“Come along, good dog! Come and speak to the pretty Wallypugs. Good Kis-Smee. Good dog, then!”
His Majesty clutched my arm nervously, and retreating behind the carpet-bag, regarded Kis-Smee with a certain amount of suspicion, while I must confess to having experienced a slight feeling of uneasiness myself. For if Kis-Smee took it into his ugly head to object to us, there was no knowing what might be the result.
There was no occasion for alarm, however, for Kis-Smee turned out to be one of the mildest and best-behaved of dogs.
He made great friends with the Wallypug at once, and clumsily gamboled, or, as his Majesty explained it, “flumped,” about him in the most friendly manner.
“He doesn’t take to strangers as a rule,” said Ho-Lor, “but he certainly seems to have taken a fancy to you.”
“He is a beautiful creature,” said his Majesty, politely patting the huge animal a little nervously.
“Oh! I don’t know about that,” remarked Ho-Lor, looking very pleased nevertheless. “He is of a very rare breed, though.”
“What kind of dog do you call him?” I inquired.
“He’s a smirkler dog,” replied Ho-Lor proudly.
“A what?” I exclaimed.
“A smirkler. He smirkles for mivlets you know,” was the reply.
“Good gracious. What are they?” cried the Wallypug.
“Mivlets?” asked Ho-Lor.
His Majesty nodded.
“Why young mivs, of course.”
“But what are mivs?” asked his Majesty curiously.
“Things that are smirkled for,” replied Ho-Lor promptly. “But come. I see that Gra-Shus has prepared some tea for us.”
We entered the little blue temple and were each presented with a little blue rug, upon which we sat cross-legged, as we observed that Mi-Hy and Ho-Lor were doing. Gra-Shus served us in blue cups what tasted like delicious tea, but which looked exactly like blue ink. No sooner had we taken a few sips than I noticed that the Wallypug was slowly turning a light blue color, while at the same moment he stared at me fixedly a moment, and then exclaimed: “Why, what a funny color you are!”
I looked at my hands, and found them a rich blue shade.
“We look like the Oxford and Cambridge boat race, don’t we?” he continued: “I’m so glad that I’m Cambridge!”
I did not at all approve of the change, for although we did not look so very remarkable in the midst of our strange surroundings, I could not help thinking what an extraordinary object I should be considered in London if I ever reached that place again.
“Oh! Aren’t they pretty now?” exclaimed Gra-Shus, clapping her hands and dancing about excitedly.
“I am glad you think so,” I replied, in a huff.
“Don’t you like it? Would you rather have been green? We’ve plenty of green tea, you know, if you wish.”
“Thanks! I should prefer being my original color, if you don’t mind,” I replied.
“Dear me! I’m very sorry, but I’m afraid we’re out of that color. Let’s see! Crushed strawberry, wasn’t it?”
“Oh! let’s stay blue for a little while,” pleaded his Majesty. “It’s such a change, and so very uncommon, you know!”
So blue we remained, and directly after we had finished our tea Mi-Hy brought around the little blue boat again, and we went for a row on the ornamental lake.
Somehow or another Kis-Smee was left behind, and although the Wallypug suggested putting back for him, it was finally decided, however, not to do so.
“Perhaps he will smirkle a mivlet while we are away,” said Ho-Lor.
And I confidently hoped that he might do so, for I was as curious as was the Wallypug to know what the term meant.
Just then we passed a curious little blue island with one tiny house on it, standing in the midst of some curious trees and strangely-shaped rocks. “Let’s go ashore and fish,” suddenly suggested Mi-Hy.
“Oh! yes, do,” cried the Wallypug. “I love fishing; but I’m never allowed to do so in my own land.”
“Why not?” inquired Ho-Lor.
“The fishes object,” replied his Majesty, sadly; “they say that it gives them the tooth-ache.”
“How absurd of them,” said Ho-Lor, sympathetically.
“Yes; isn’t it perfectly ridiculous?” replied his Majesty; “for they really haven’t any teeth, you know.”
By this time the boat had reached the shore, and we all scrambled out and assisted Ho-Lor up the steep rocks.
From within the little blue house Mi-Hy brought some rods and lines, and we began to fish. There was no bait of any kind, but this Ho-Lor explained was not necessary.
Under the circumstances I was not surprised to find that we did not get a bite for a considerable time.
At last, however, the Wallypug announced with a delighted shout, “I’ve got one!” and we all ran over to see what it was.
Slowly his Majesty wound up his line, while Mi-Hy hung over the rocks with a landing net. “I’ve got it!” he shouted. “Oh, what a beauty!” and diving his hand into the net, he drew out – what do you think? An empty ink-bottle!
I couldn’t help laughing at his Majesty’s disappointed face, but Ho-Lor seemed positively to think that it was a catch worth having. “It’s in capital condition,” he exclaimed, examining it critically, “and has a beautifully-shaped neck.”
“But it’s only an old ink bottle,” objected the poor Wallypug.
“What else did you expect to catch, I should like to know?” said Mi-Hy. “Some people are never satisfied. Many a time I have fished here a whole day and only caught a piece of blotting paper or a pen-wiper.”
“What funny things to catch!” exclaimed the Wallypug.
“They are very appropriate things to get from a lake of ink,” said Ho-Lor rather huffily.
“Oh! I’m sure I beg your pardon, I had no idea it was real ink,” said his Majesty, apologetically. “I don’t think we had better fish any longer,” he said putting away his rod. “I hoped to have caught some real fish, you know.”
“Never heard of them. What are they?” asked Ho-Lor.
“Why, things with scales, you know,” exclaimed the Wallypug.
“Oh, you mean weighing machines,” said Mi-Hy.
“No! no! I mean – ”
“Hark! what’s that?” said Ho-Lor, putting his hand to his ear.
“Come on! That’s Kis-Smee barking. I expect he has smirkled a mivlet. Come along, hurry up, or we shall be too late.”
We hurriedly launched the little boat, and were soon on our way across the little lake.
The sound of furious barking, mingled with a strangely familiar voice, came from behind Ho-Lor’s house, and hurrying forward we came suddenly upon a remarkable sight.
Kis-Smee was prancing madly round a gombobble tree to the lower branches of which A. Fish, Esq., was clinging in an agony of fright.
“Lie dowd, sir! Lie dowd, good dog, thed!” he shouted, while Kis-Smee barked and made sudden furious little darts at the fish’s tail.
“Why, it’s A. Fish, Esq.,” cried his Majesty, hurrying forward anxiously. “Come away, Kis-Smee! Lie down, sir!”
Kis-Smee left his quarry in the tree, and came bounding up to the Wallypug, wagging his great clumsy tail delightedly.
“Good gracious!” exclaimed Mi-Hy, staring in amazement at A. Fish, Esq. “That’s not a mivlet, I’m sure – what on earth is the creature?”
“Oh, that’s A. Fish, Esq., a great friend of mine,” hastily explained his Majesty, running to his assistance, for when Kis-Smee had left him, poor A. Fish, Esq., had dropped off the gombobble tree, and was now lying exhausted on the blue grass beneath.
“What a dreadful bodster!” he cried, waving Kis-Smee off as we approached. “Keep hib off. Take hib away!”
“It’s all right,” said his Majesty, reassuringly, “he won’t bite you now that we are here.”
Indeed, directly the dog discovered that A. Fish, Esq., was a friend of the Wallypug’s, he went up to him, and grinning in an absurd way, held out a paw to be shaken, which favor, however, was declined by A. Fish, Esq., who evidently regarded these overtures with a certain amount of suspicion, and looked greatly relieved when Ho-Lor and Mi-Hy, seeing that we were engaged with a friend, considerately left us to ourselves, and took Kis-Smee away with them.
CHAPTER XI
THE WHY AND WER-HAR-WEI RAILWAY
“Fancy seeing you!” cried his Majesty, as we sat down beside the Fish under the gombobble tree. “How ever did you get here? And what’s the news at Why?”
“Oh, thad’s a log story,” said A. Fish, Esq., and proceeded to tell us how that after we had escaped from Why, by means of the shute, there had been a great commotion in the place, and the Doctor-in-Law was furious. He declared that we should not slip through his hands in this way, and had a long conversation with the Sister-in-Law and the others as to the best way of affecting our capture. Finally they decided to attach themselves to a long rope, and come down the shute in pursuit of us.
A. Fish, Esq., made the excuse that his cold was too bad to permit him to join the party, and waited till they had got a good way down, and then cut the rope. He thought that this would be the best way of being of service to us. And so it was, of course, for goodness only knows where our pursuers were by this time.
A little while after he had cut the rope A. Fish, Esq., came across the Crow, who told him that he had been informed by two duffer birds (which was the name of the curious blue birds which we had noticed) that we were here at Wer-har-wei, and had immediately set about to discover the best way to get here.
He went in the first place to the station-master at Why, and found him, as usual, engaged in squabbling with the porter.
They were arguing as to whether a certain signal should be up or down.
The station-master declared that the signal should always be up on the up line and down on the down line. This the porter would not agree to, so it was at last decided to put one up and one down and leave them so, and then the engine-drivers could do as they pleased about going on or stopping.
When they had quite settled this dispute, A. Fish, Esq., had asked them if there were any trains running between Why and this place, and at first they had said no; but presently the porter remembered that there was a certain train which started on some days and went no one knew where.
No one was ever known to travel by it, and the engine-driver, who was an old salamander by the name of Mike, was deaf and dumb, and could neither read nor write, so that they had never been able to find out from him where his train went to. It had some letters on it which corresponded with those on the station-master’s collar, but no one had ever been able to discover what they meant. They were popularly supposed to stand for Weary Waiting and Horribly Wobbly Railway, the initials on the station-master’s collar being W.W.H.W.R., but A. Fish, Esq., had by a brilliant inspiration come to the conclusion that they stood for Why and Wer-har-wei Railway, and when the train, which consisted of only one carriage and the engine, came into the station, he jumped in, to the intense surprise of Mike, who had never had a passenger before, and who in his agitation recklessly put two shovelfuls of coal into the furnace, and, giving a frantic “toot” on the whistle, started off at full speed.
“It was a dreadful journey,” said A. Fish, Esq., “ad I dever had so bedy ups and dowds id all by life.”
We didn’t quite understand what he meant by this at the moment, but a little later on we discovered the reason to our cost.
After an eventful journey, A. Fish, Esq., had arrived at this place, and had found on alighting from the train that no one was to be seen, and he was just about to kick at the door of Ho-Lor’s house when Kis-Smee came bounding out. Poor A. Fish, Esq., had been terribly alarmed, and had made for the nearest tree, and was vainly trying to climb up into it when we made our appearance.
“If I were you,” he advised, “I should certaidly cub back to Why at odce, for the people all seeb to be rejoiced thad Madame and the Doctor-id-Law have gode away, ad I think thad they would willingly forgive you for having said, ‘Ad horse! ad horse! by kigdob for ad horse!’”
After talking the matter over for a few minutes we decided that perhaps it would be the best thing to do, and as the little blue station was only just at the back of Ho-Lor’s house we thought that perhaps by hurrying we should catch the same train back to Why by which A. Fish, Esq., had come. So we set out to try and find the little blue people, to bid them “good-by,” and thank them for their hospitality.
We found them at the station sitting beside Mike, to whom it appeared they were in the habit of being very kind on his occasional visits.
They seemed quite sorry to hear that we were leaving them so soon, and insisted upon making the Wallypug a present of Kis-Smee, and of stuffing into my pocket an enormous gombobble as a souvenir of my visit. Then there was just time to look at the “train” before we started. I must say that of all crazy, ramshackle affairs it was quite the worst that I had ever seen. To begin with, the wheels were all sorts of shapes, and not one of them was quite round. There was only one compartment, and that had no windows in it. And the engine! Well, it was something like Puffing Billy, only a little worse.
There was no room for Kis-Smee in the carriage, so we were obliged to chain him up on the roof, evidently much to his disgust.
I must confess to a certain feeling of uneasiness when, having taken our seats, the engine gave a snort, and puffing out a volume of dense black smoke and smuts, started us on our journey.
By reason of the odd shape of our wheels and the unevenness of the rails the carriage pitched and tossed about like a ship at sea, and our passage over a little wooden viaduct, where on either side the little blue people stood waving their adieux with quaint little flags, was, I am convinced, attended with considerable danger.
It was really a dreadful journey. The carriage pitched backward and forward, and rolled from side to side with every revolution of the wheels, while poor Kis-Smee, on the top, kept slipping about in the most painful manner. His Majesty’s carpet-bag, which had not been securely fastened to the top of the carriage, slipped off soon after we started, and though we rang the bell violently Mike refused to stop, and it was lost forever.
“Fortunately there was not much in it!” his Majesty gasped between the jerks which the irregular motion of the train occasioned. “Only a tooth-brush and small cake of soap.”
“But it felt quite full,” I remarked in surprise.
“Yes,” explained his Majesty. “I stuffed it full of paper and things, because I thought that it would look so bad for a king to be traveling about without any luggage.”
Just then there was a yelp and a howl from Kis-Smee, and looking out of the window we found that the poor creature had fallen from the roof and was hanging down by the chain which was attached to the top of the carriage, and was in momentary danger of being strangled.
We managed, after a prolonged struggle, to haul him in through the window, and, although we were rather crowded, to find room for him in the carriage. We had hardly settled down into our places, however, before the train came to a standstill, and Mike came to the door in a great state of agitation.
“Av yez plaze, sor,” he began.
“Why! I thought you were deaf and dumb,” I cried.
“Och – that’s all gammon sure – oi can talk all roight, and hear all roight too when it suits me purpose. Well, now, ye see when the dog fell off the roof he upset me coal-scuttle, and never a bit of coal is there left. Would ye be good enough, kind gentlemen, to go back and pick some up off the line, it’s only about a moile and a half back.”
The engine, it appeared, could not be reversed, and, as there was no chance of getting a supply anywhere else, nothing remained but for his Majesty and myself to go back with the coal-scuttle and pick some of the spilt coal up.
Kis-Smee bounded delightedly at our side; but we did not take A. Fish, Esq., with us, as he complained of a pain in his tail, and we feared that the long walk might make it worse.
“I shall amuse byself while you are away by giving Bike ad elocutiod lessod,” he said, as we left him.
But Mike, who was undoing his bundle preparatory to having some dinner, did not look very enthusiastic over the project, and I am almost certain I heard him mutter, “Not if I know it,” as we were walking away.
We found the coal, as we expected, beside the line, after we had walked a little over a mile, and his Majesty and myself picked it up, and packing it in the scuttle, took turns in carrying it back to the train again.
We had nearly arrived at the spot where the train was waiting for us, when his Majesty noticed some curious flowers growing in a little copse beside the line, and we put down our coal-scuttle and went to gather them. While we were doing so, however, we heard a wild shout, and looking up beheld an enormously tall and thin man running towards us, gesticulating violently.
He was waving some wire and leather dog muzzles in one hand.
“Where’s his muzzle?” he demanded, pointing to Kis-Smee. “Can’t you see the dog is mad and must be muzzled immediately?”
“I’m sure he’s not,” cried the Wallypug, indignantly, and patting Kis-Smee’s head.
“He is,” declared the man. “All dogs are mad, and I insist upon them being muzzled.”
“Very well,” I interposed. “You had better try and put a muzzle on this one yourself.”
“Oh! I’ll soon do that,” cried the man, selecting a large muzzle from the collection which he carried with him. “Come here, sir! Good dog, then.”
Kis-Smee growled, and grinning more than ever made a dart at the man, who dropped his muzzles and fled, screaming, “Mad dog! Mad dog!” at the top of his voice.
His Majesty and myself, laughing heartily at his discomfiture, hurried back to the train without meeting with any further adventures.
A. Fish, Esq., and Mike seemed to be rather cool towards each other, I thought, and I heard afterwards that they had not got on at all well with the “elocution” lesson – in fact, Mike had absolutely refused to be instructed in that very necessary art.
Of course we told them of our adventure with the man in the wood, and Mike explained that he was well known as “The Long Man of Muzzledom,” and was quite harmless, though rather silly, being under the impression that all dogs and cats were mad and should be muzzled.
“Well, he didn’t muzzle Kis-Smee, anyhow,” said his Majesty, as we took our seats in the carriage, and the train once more started for Why.
After several hours of bumping and jolting, we were delighted to see the familiar towers and gables of his Majesty’s palace in the distance, and knew that we had at last arrived at the end of our journey.