Part 6 (1/2)

First you take a little orange, And you squeeze out all the pips; Then you add a crimson florange, Which you cut up into chips.

Then you stir them in a porringe, With your tiny finger tips; And you have the finest morange Ever known to mortal lips.

How Willie and Maude longed to taste a morange! The Zankiw.a.n.k evidently enjoyed the one he had, for he said it tasted just like mango, ice cream, blackberries and plum tart all mixed up together, so that it must have been nice.

After the feast t.i.tania said she must be going, as she felt certain that there were some invisible mortals present. She could hear them breathing! At this Robin Goodfellow grew nervous, and the children got frightened lest the Queen should discover and punish them for their temerity.

”Where Christmas pudding's bliss 'Tis folly to eat pies,”

cried Robin Goodfellow to divert attention and the fairies at the same time, but the Queen was not satisfied, and ordered a special dress train to carry them away again.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

At this moment the two children tumbled off nothing into a vacant s.p.a.ce, making the Zankiw.a.n.k scream out--”It must be the Bletherwitch in the clutches of the Nargalnannacus.” But it wasn't, and if it had not been for Robin Goodfellow's presence of mind, I am sure I do not know what would have happened. That lively rascal, however, guessing that he had used the wrong seeds, at once stepped forward, and taking Maude and Willie each by the hand, boldly presented them to Her Majesty as being favoured mortals who were friends of the Zankiw.a.n.k, and so the Queen received them and asked them more questions than you could find in any school book. None of which they answered, because when they turned round the Queen and all her court had vanished, and only the Zankiw.a.n.k was to be seen.

The Zankiw.a.n.k took no notice of them whatever, and behaved just as though he could not see them. They called him by name without arousing his attention, for he was once more writing a telegram, only he did not know where to send it. In the distance Maude could hear the sound of voices, and she declared she could recognise the Queen singing, though Willie said it must have been her imagination because he could not.

However, this is what Maude said she heard:--

Dear little maid, may joy be thine As through your life you go; Let Truth and Peace each act design, That Hope turn not to woe.

Dream if you will in maiden prime, But let each dream be true; For idle hopes waste golden time, That won't return to you.

In after years when ways divide, And Love dispels each tear, Know in some breast there will abide A thought for you sincere.

So strive, dear maid, to play your part, With n.o.ble aim and deed; Let sweetness ever sway your heart, And so I give you speed.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

While Maudie was pondering over the meaning of these words, she was suddenly lifted off her feet, and, when she recovered from the shock, found herself with Willie in a balloon, while down below the Zankiw.a.n.k was fondly embracing the Jackarandajam, who had just arrived with a whole army of odd-looking people, including Jack-the-Giant-Killer, Tom Thumb, Blue Beard, and all his wives, with Sister Anne, d.i.c.k Whittington, and his black cat, and Tom Tiddler, and about three thousand four hundred and five goblins and sprites, who all commenced running a race up and down the valley from which they were fast speeding.

”Keep the pot a-boiling; keep the pot a-boiling,” bawled the Zankiw.a.n.k, and away they all went again, helter skelter, in and out, and up and down, like skaters on a rink.

Gradually the balloon altered its course, and instead of going up it went straight ahead to a large inpenetrable wall that seemed to threaten them with destruction; while, to the annoyance of both Maude and Willie, they could hear the revellers down below dancing and singing as though they were in no jeopardy. And if the words had been correct they would have declared that it was the Mariners of England who were singing their own song:--

You sleepy little mortals, High up in a balloon, You soon will pa.s.s the portals, Beyond the crescent moon.

Then Shadowland will come in view, A dream within a dream; So keep in your sleep While we keep up the steam; While the midnight hours are all a-creep, And we are all a-beam.

The spirits of the fairies This eve are very bright, For in your nest the mare is Who only rides by night.

Into a magic sphere you go, A dream within a dream.

So keep in your sleep, While we keep up the steam, For Shadow Land is deep and steep, And we are all a-beam.

With a b.u.mp, and a thump, and a jump, the balloon burst against the wall, and Maude and Willie felt themselves dropping, dropping, dropping, until the Zankiw.a.n.k bounced up and caught them both in his arms, saying as he rushed forward:--

[Ill.u.s.tration]

”Quick, the gates are only open for five seconds once a week, and if we don't get inside at once we shall be jammed in the door-way.”

So into Shadow Land they tumbled as the porter mumbled and grumbled and shut the gate with a boom and a bang after them.