Part 7 (1/2)

If there was anything he liked above all others it was sneaking, and the job which Dragonfel had given him presented most attractive possibilities.

Noting a gurgling brook in the proximity of the portcullis, he took great pains to soak the round pad-like ends of his tentacles in water so that when they were applied to a flat surface they would adhere through atmospheric pressure sufficiently to bear his weight.

In such a manner, when no one was looking, did the wily rascal climb up the high garden-wall and down the other side, wriggling and squirming with ill-concealed chuckles toward the palace.

Only the magic dove that Euphrosyne had left, which was preening itself on the edge of a fountain's basin, saw him, with the result that it was strongly tempted to fly back to the G.o.ddess of Mirth forthwith.

At the fountain the Human Octopus took the precaution to again soak his multifarious pads in water, after which with his goggle eyes he c.o.c.ked his head in a professional survey of the palace. Then he began to ascend one of its towering walls. Higher and higher, and still higher, he went in perfect safety until at last he gained the roof and squatted on the top of a chimney.

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There he skillfully compressed himself to fit the dimensions of the flue, after which he began to let himself gently down like an elevator-car. A great volume of black, greasy smoke from the kitchen suddenly belched forth and hid him from sight.

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It was not so long afterward that, all covered with soot, he crawled out of the big open fireplace in the throne-room. Before he did so he made sure to satisfy himself that no one was there. But there was no telling when someone might come, and he knew it behooved him to secrete himself and instantly.

His goggle eyes oscillated in all directions around the room, and he craftily selected for his hiding-place a great tall clock that stood up close against the wall in a corner by itself.

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It was not a grandfather's clock, for there were no grandfathers in Queen t.i.tania's kingdom. It was what might more properly be termed a grandmother's clock.

The villain opened the door, and projected himself into the clock's interior, being obliged in order to accomplish this to make his proportions squarish and oblong. His queer-looking head showed at the top instead of the clock's face. Then with one of his tentacles glued to the door he pulled it back in its place.

”Now we shall see what we shall see,” he snorted. ”I must be patient and bide my time.”

The big bra.s.s pendulum swaying rhythmically to and fro with its measured tick-tock! tick-tock! kept hitting his stomach, and it tickled him so that it was all he could do to keep from laughing.

But he knew that he must not do so. If he even snickered he might betray himself. So he put a number of his tentacles over his mouth and tried hard to keep a straight face.

Now, though every month was a fair month, a rare month, for the murmur of the little streams was never hushed, and the fruits and flowers always were in bloom, with the skies mostly blue above them, and the winds soft and kind, May to the fairies' way of thinking was the sweetest of all the happy year, and whenever it came round it was tendered a becoming ceremony.

The Eve o' May was a holiday, though it might truthfully be said that every day was a holiday.

But at this particular time when all nature was at its best there were special observances that sprang from the gladness and exultation in all hearts, the very joy of existence, and the happiness that was manifested by every living thing.

Queen t.i.tania and her fairies prepared for the innocent revels and dances that were to occur on a velvet sward some distance from the palace grounds, and their hearts were pleasantly thrilled by a notice with some pictures of Brownies that had been mysteriously tacked up in the neighborhood.

Marvelous was the flower-texture of the gowns donned for this gala occasion, and in her robes of blush-pink mossrose petals which swept away in a long, fragrant train t.i.tania never looked more beautiful and charming.

Little old Dame Drusilda who resembled a human morning-glory, with hat, bodice, and dress all like cornucopias, fumed, fretted, and ordered all the other fairies around.

”As I live,” the fussy dame declared, ”we've forgotten to wind the big clock, and it's almost run down. Violet and Daffodil, go to the throne-room, and attend to this before we start.”

The two good-naturedly ran to do her bidding, and when he saw them coming the Human Octopus had an uneasy qualm.

He hastily tried to distort his ugly face into a resemblance of the Roman numerals, and stuck up two tentacles for the hour and minute hands, but the deception was a poor one, and would not work. Violet and Daffodil set about to wind the clock, but, on looking up to note the time, they were confronted by a face twisted in an expression that the Human Octopus very foolishly thought invited confidence, but which instead sent them scurrying and hurrying with gathered-up flower skirts and ear-splitting shrieks from the room.

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