ABRACADABRA
For goodness sake don't let anyone hear you! It is a very powerful charm, and might—if a wicked magician were anywhere near at hand—lift your house up into the air and pop it down into a sandy desert, five thousand miles away!
CHAPTER XIX
Princess Fortunata
GEORGE never was able to remember clearly what happened in the magician's castle. He used afterward to tell the story in bits, and Mother put all the bits together, little by little, just as one sews a counterpane, until there was a whole story. How long he was there, whether he felt afraid, whether it was only a dream, whether it was all magic—who knows?—and, after all, what does it matter?
He first remembers that he was going upstairs. Not ordinary stairs, you know, like those in your house. No; these stairs were quite different. They were moving all the time. As fast as he mounted one step, two and even three steps moved up, so that he was always farther and farther away from the top. He was very puzzled for some time to know what to do. So at last he stopped and repeated the magic charm. Then the steps began to move in the opposite direction.
Now the steps had stopped moving, and began to curl and wind in the most vexing manner. Round and round they went, and round and round went George, until he was quite giddy.
"These stairs are always coming back to the same place, I declare!" he thought. "This will never do. I shall go on climbing until this time next year, and oh, shan't I be tired!"
Again he repeated the charm, and the stairs became straight as a straight line. Up and up he went. Would they never end?
He was at the top and standing before a door which was closed. He turned the handle; he pushed and pushed.... He seemed to hear somebody laughing, and laughing in a very disagreeable, ill-tempered way. It sounded as if it came from inside the room, or whatever it was behind the door. George became very angry. He just hated anybody laughing at him. He would show them what he could do!
He must remember to say the charm sooner next time. But it was so difficult to remember anything in this queer place!
Where was he now? There seemed to be faces—thousands of faces—peeping at him from every side, from every hole, and from every corner.
Where had he seen these faces before? He couldn't tell, and yet he knew them.... Why, of course! They were the reflections of his own face in mirrors, hundreds and thousands of mirrors! How very strange it looked! Well, there was nothing to be afraid of.
The mirrors grew dull and duller, and then bright and brighter. George saw himself wherever he looked; even the ceiling and the floor seemed made of glass. How horrid! Even if you were very good-looking you wouldn't like to see nothing but your own face, would you?
There must be a door somewhere.... If he didn't find the door soon he would become enchanted, and that would never do.... What had he forgotten?... Ah, the charm!
He was standing on the bank of a great river. It was very dark, and he could scarcely see a foot in front of him, but he could hear the roar of the water as it went rushing and roaring by.
Was it his fancy, or were there voices mocking him? It sounded as if they were saying something. "Ooooh! Ooooh! Ooooh! It is so-oo-oo co-o-old! Hoo-oo! As co-old as i-ice!"
"I can't swim a little bit," thought George. "Even Alexander couldn't swim across this horrible river.... I wonder if I counted 'one, two, three!' and jumped in, whether I should be drowned.... One ... two...."
Could that be Alexander's bark in the far-away distance? "Jump in, George!" the dear dog seemed to be saying.
Well, this was an adventure!... "One, two...."
The river had disappeared. George found himself in a most wonderful garden. The sun was shining overhead in a blue sky, and everywhere he looked he could see nothing but flowers.... What a perfectly delightful scent! The grass was so soft, too. He must just sit down and rest for a moment....
He began to feel very thirsty.... Why, there were lovely pears and apples on those trees over there. He must just pluck one!... He felt so tired, and it was so cool sitting in the shade. He could almost hear little voices singing a lullaby to him....
What was the good of bothering about anything? It was ever so jolly here.... Wouldn't it be fun if Alexander were here too! What races they would run!... No, they would just lie down together and.... Hark! Was that Alexander's bark once more? "Wake up! Wake up!"
What a bother! But the sound kept ringing in his ears, and slowly—oh, so slowly!—he walked toward a little door in the garden wall.
He was walking down a long passage, and on each side of him were doors. He could not make up his mind which door to open. Never mind! It didn't matter very much. Perhaps they weren't real, but only magic doors. He opened the next door he came to and walked into ... no, not a room, but just a little space scarcely as large as a cupboard, with a door in the wall facing him.
He opened that, and found himself facing another door.
"This is a bother!" he thought. "Just like a Chinese box-trick. You open one box and then you find another inside it, and then another inside that. They keep on getting smaller and smaller until.... Why, this place is getting smaller!"... And so it was!... He had hardly room to move now.
He turned round to go back again, but found the door shut behind him.
"I'll just open one more." He opened it, and found himself in a most beautiful room, and there, lying on a couch fast asleep, was—the Princess Fortunata! Just like a story-book, isn't it?
Now it is just here that George's story begins to get a little patchy, like the counterpane.
He remembers trying to wake the Princess. She remained fast asleep in spite of all that he did. She was very beautiful, just like a pink and white rose, but he could not remember what dress she wore, or what the colour of her hair was, or anything else at all, so you must make up the rest of it for yourselves.
He woke her up at last. Did he kiss her, like the Prince in Sleeping Beauty? He never remembered—or said that he didn't remember. I wonder!
She opened her eyes and gazed at him, as if just awakening from a dream.
What did she say? What do princesses say to brave knights who rescue them from enchantment?
You may be sure that she said just the right things. Princesses always do. They are taught the right words to say by their governesses, in case they might become enchanted when they grow up. You never know what a fairy god-mother may do, especially if she be a bad fairy!
Now came the hardest part of all—to escape with the Princess from the enchanted castle.
The Princess took George gently by the hand like a nice, kind, grown-up sister, and said: "We must hasten. In another moment the wicked magician will be here, and then we are lost!"
So they ran hand in hand to the door and down a passage. "Faster!" cried the Princess, and George ran faster than he had ever run before.
"Faster, faster!" cried the Princess again, and on and on they sped until George wondered if there was any end at all to the passage.
Suddenly, boom! boom!—like the rolling of thunder!
"The magician is coming! Hasten, oh, hasten!" On and on they ran.
Boo-oom! Closer and closer! Faster and faster the two ran, until it seemed as if they were flying through the air.
Boom! It sounded almost in their very ears. They caught sight of a little door, so tiny you could scarcely see it, and rushed toward it; George pulled it open, pushed the Princess through, and was just going to follow her when—crash!
CHAPTER XX
Another Party
HE was lying on a soft mossy bank, and Alexander—yes, Alexander!—was gently licking the tip of his nose.
"Wherever have you been?" he cried, sitting up and looking at the dear, dear dog in surprise and delight.
"Oh, I've just been having a little snooze," wuffed Alexander, and yawned a real doggy yawn.
George was so pleased that he got up and hugged him. After Alexander had shaken himself, for his coat was just a little ruffled up after George's embrace, he sat down and smiled—such a friendly smile! Only a dog can smile like that.
"Where have I been, Alexander?" asked George.
"You know, George," replied Alexander. "Why do you ask me?"
"Where's the Princess?"
"At home, where she ought to be, I suppose."
"Oh! Well, where am I, now?"
"Look around you!"
George looked, and there, standing just in front of him, was the little house. It felt like coming home again.... Home? Ah, yes; but wasn't it time to be returning to their real home?
He got up and walked toward the house. "I wish ... I wish my fortune were here!" he said. "I would like to go home and see Mother and Father again!"
Once more they heard the sweet music, but louder and louder, as if it were coming toward them.
"Shall I ever find my fortune, Alexander?" said George after tea. It was tea, not breakfast, so it must have been evening.
"There, my child; it lies right there under your very nose."
"Where?" George looked down, and then remembered. "That's what the mother said in the dragon's story, isn't it?... Oh, dear, everything is so puzzling! Where is Sir Tristram? Shan't I ever see him again?"
"Time for bed now!" Alexander yawned and stretched himself, and not another word would he say.
It was nice to be in bed in this cosy little room. There were such jolly patterns on the wall-paper, and they seemed to be changing all the time. Sometimes there were trees and rivers, sometimes birds and animals, sometimes ships and whales. Perhaps it was a dream wall-paper. Would there be another adventure to-morrow? It would be fun to go back to the Castle of the Thousand Towers and visit the King. Just fancy if he invited George to stay with him! Did the Princess get back quite safely?
What was happening?
The room seemed to be full of a soft rosy light. The walls seemed to be growing and spreading in all directions. The bed—why, it wasn't a bed at all! It was a beautiful couch of soft moss, and the room had disappeared altogether.
George was lying in the forest, in the middle of a glade surrounded by trees of all shapes and sizes. Music was everywhere—above him, around him, ebbing and flowing like the tide of the sea. Little voices were whispering, laughing, singing; what were they saying? Could it be: "George is home at last!"
Why, this wasn't home! It was ... what was it?
Thousands and thousands of tiny lights! They came on and on, until the whole glade was lit up as bright as day. Still there was not a soul to be seen! What was that? "Wuff! Wuff!"—and there was Alexander with—a green bow round his neck!
"What are you doing here?" cried George.
"I've come to your party, George," said Alexander, and standing on his hind legs he made a low bow. What next, I wonder?
George stared at him in astonishment.
"Ah, here are some old friends coming!" And Alexander bounded away as if he thought George understood what he meant. Some old friends?
A blast of trumpets, and lines of trumpeters marched two by two into the glade. They formed into two lines, and then down the middle there came the King and his Princess—now his Queen—wearing their royal robes and their crowns! They looked perfectly splendid! With them was Sir Tristram in full armour.
They walked up to George and shook hands with him. "Thank you so much for inviting us to your party," said the Queen, with a heavenly smile. "I haven't been to a party for ages and ages. I am so glad we are not late. What a sweet spot you have chosen for the entertainment."
The entertainment? What did she mean, or was it one of Alexander's jokes?
A whirr, whirr, and there in the middle of the glade was the witch.
"Well, George!" she said, with a smile. "You look surprised to see me. You did invite me, you know, so I'm not a rude old witch, whatever you may think. The giant's coming too. He stopped to tell the storks a story, but he'll arrive in time for supper."
Supper? So there was going to be a supper!
The dragon was the next guest to appear. He and the weathercock came—not arm in arm, but—well, you know what one means by arm in arm when dragons are walking. They were both very pleased to see George, and the dragon was full of jokes and fun.
Last of all came Tom Tiddler, helping old Father Time along, and then Alexander with his two friends the cats.
"Are we all here?" asked the witch. "We can't wait for the giant. He's always late. Let's begin!"
They seated themselves in a circle round George, and all looked at him as if they were expecting something.
"Now then, George!" said the witch. "We are waiting to hear all about your fortune."
Everybody clapped their hands—not the dragon, the weathercock, and those without hands—and cried: "Bravo! Bravo!"
George felt very shy. "It's a long story," he began.
"All stories are long; all good stories," said a voice, and there was the giant peeping at them from behind the trees!
"It's all right," he explained. "I'm lying down, so I shan't be in anybody's way."
So George told them his story—all that you have read in these pages, and everybody listened, and now and then told a little bit themselves when it came to the part which they knew.
At last they came to the end. "And so they married and lived happily ever after!" said the Queen, with a smile.
George jumped to his feet and clapped his hands. "I told you I was right!" he cried to the giant. "All stories end in that way."
"Ah, but your story isn't finished, so I shall be right," said the giant. "You're not married, you know. Ha, ha!"
"Stop laughing at once!" ordered the witch. "You'll curdle all the cream if you're not careful. Laugh down in your boots and then it won't matter."
"I can't," replied the giant. "I've tried, oh, ever so hard, and it always comes out the wrong way. Whatever I do is wrong."
"Oh, please, don't cry!" begged George. "I'm sure you did try. It must be difficult to remember that you are a giant."
"It's a long, long way to my boots," said the giant. "I expect the laughter gets tired about half-way, and bursts. Then, you know, it's no good. When your laughter bursts it flies out of your mouth before you know where you are. I remember——"
"You are not to remember," commanded the witch. "It's time for supper."
She waved her stick, and in a flash there was the supper all ready laid. What a pity that all suppers can't be arranged as easily as this!
Well, they ate and they drank, and all the time sweet music was played by invisible musicians. It was far, far finer than George's last birthday-party.
After supper everybody—except the giant—told stories or sang songs, and Alexander showed them how dogs signal to one another by tail-wagging.
Then there was a moment's silence. Old Father Time arose and said: "I must go on my way once more. It is now time to say farewell."
"Stop a minute!" cried Tom Tiddler. "We must give George a present. Each one of us must give him something as a remembrance—or else he might forget us!"
He put his hand in his pocket, drew something out and presented it to George. It was a leaf!
"A leaf for remembrance! George will find out what it means by and by," he said, with a smile. "Now then, it's somebody else's turn."
Each in turn shook hands with George and gave him a present. Now, what did they give?
Last of all came the beautiful Queen. With a radiant smile she took George in her arms and kissed him. It was just like being kissed by sweet roses, honeysuckle, and all the fragrant flowers you can think of!
"I have given him the best present of all," she said. "For his end to the story is really the sweetest; 'they lived happily ever after.' George is a fairy boy, after all, aren't you, George?"
How madly the music was playing! Tum-tee-rum-tee-tiddle-tee-tum! Almost as if one ought to dance to it. Yes, he would dance with the beautiful Queen!
He opened his eyes—but where was everybody? Gone, all gone!
Around him were hundreds and hundreds of tiny figures dancing, singing, flying through the air. Many of them were wearing green jackets and red caps and were playing—ah, the music—the same sweet melody he had heard so often!
Could they be—the fairies?
Where was he? He seemed to be moving along. He was actually in a carriage which was being dragged along by any number of these tiny people. On the box sat a little figure—could it be Tom Tiddler? He guessed all in a flash it was—of course, you've guessed it too—Puck.
Puck turned round and smiled at George. "Home! We're going home now. Mother wants you. Mind you don't forget your fortune, George!"
On they drove; through the wood with the moon shining down on them above the trees; down the hill past the windmill, which made George think of the young dragon who went to look for his fortune; and into the garden. Home at last! Alexander met them at the gate.
"Welcome home, George!" he wuffed. "Hasn't it been an adventure?"
George sat up straight in the carriage as if he had been a prince or a victorious general coming home from the war. At last the carriage stopped.
AROUND HIM WERE HUNDREDS AND HUNDREDS OF TINY FIGURES
Then George, who felt as if he had been in a dream, turned to the fairies and said: "I am pleased to be home again. Thank you so much for bringing me all this way. I have enjoyed myself, oh, ever so much!"
Puck took off his cap and bowed. "You're here: you might be there, but you're not. Now you know all about it!"
"Why, Tom Tiddler said that!" cried George.
Before he could say another word the fairies were all flying away in the air. Tinkle, tinkle!—you should have heard their tiny laughter!
Puck smiled: "Don't forget us, little George! Don't forget us! You are a fairy boy, after all, aren't you?" and in an instant—whish!—he was gone!
"George, darling!" Who was that calling him? Could it be Mother?
What a long time he must have kept her waiting!
CHAPTER XXI
Back to the World
"GEORGE, darling!" George rubbed his eyes. Ah, it was the beautiful Queen kissing him again.
"George!" Ah, it was the witch this time. He knew her voice well enough. She must have come back again. It felt like a dream, but there were dreams within dreams, and he didn't really know which was the true dream. He must be back in his little house again ... but hadn't the fairies brought him home? The fairies? Then had he been dreaming about these adventures, and, if so, where was he now? There were really fairies, anyway; he was quite sure about that!
And so he went on thinking and thinking, although the voice, such a sweet voice, kept repeating "George, darling!"
What was that? Alexander's bark! "Wuff! Wuff!" That was all right. Alexander would explain everything.
"Wuff! Wuff!" right in his ear. He sat up with a start.
Why, he was in bed in his own room! There was Alexander sitting with his head a little on one side looking at him, and thump-thumping with his tail on the bed-clothes.
And there were the beautiful Queen and the witch ... no, it wasn't ... it was Mother bending over him and saying "George, darling!" and there was Nurse sitting knitting. How odd!
"You have been sound asleep, dear. It was Alexander who woke you up at last," said Mother. Nurse said nothing, but she smiled such a peculiar smile. Where had George seen that smile before? Could Nurse be a witch?
His head was so full of all his wonderful adventures that he wanted to begin to tell them all about it at once. But Mother said "No!" and Nurse said "No!" and Alexander said nothing, but just lay on the bed and smiled all the time.
Oh, it was annoying! Every time he began his story Mother said: "George, dear, you mustn't get so excited," and Nurse said: "Time for your medicine!"
The doctor arrived in his little motor, puff-puffing away as hard as ever.
"Well, how are we to-day?" he said. "Feeling a little better, eh?"
"I'm all right," answered George. "I want to get up and go out with Alexander!"
"H'm! You weren't so well after you had been out yesterday, you know. You should take care of yourself." And the doctor bent over him, felt his pulse, looked at his tongue, and did all the tiresome things doctors do when we aren't well.
"He really seems much better. In fact, you can let him go for a walk so long as he doesn't overheat himself," George heard him say to Mother.
"Doctor!" called George, just as the doctor was getting ready to go. "Doctor, come here!" And as the doctor came up to the bedside he whispered in his ear: "I've been there!"
"Been there?" The doctor was puzzled.
"Yes. You remember my asking you if there was a real Fairyland, and you said that if I really wanted to find the way there I must wish as hard as ever I could. Well, I've been there, and oh, I've had such adventures!"
The doctor smiled. "How many miles to Babylon?" he asked.
Now who had said that to George before? Why, it was Sir Tristram! Wasn't it queer that the doctor should say it too?
"Lucky boy!" said the doctor, taking up his hat again. "Lucky boy! We grown-ups have no luck at all. I lose my way every time I try to get there."
"What a pity!" cried George. "I'm sure your house is ready waiting there for you."
"Well, well," replied the doctor. "See that it's kept well aired for me when you're there next time, won't you? I might manage to get there some time, if only by accident."
It took George days and days to tell his story properly. Mother was never tired of hearing it, and asked heaps and heaps of questions; Father said the mere thought of a real live dragon, and especially a wicked magician, made him shiver and shake. He really did shake all over, but perhaps he was only pretending.
Nurse nodded her head very wisely, but though George asked her if she had ever seen a witch, no, she wouldn't answer anything but: "Perhaps I have; perhaps I haven't."
Uncle William was delighted to hear that Alexander could talk, and used to read him bits out of the newspaper and ask him what he thought about the weather, and all kinds of nonsense. He loved the part about Tom Tiddler, and really could imitate his voice so well that George sometimes couldn't tell the difference.
George often talked to Mother about his little house in the wood. One day when they were sitting in the garden he said to her: "You have a house there too, haven't you?"
"Yes, I have a little house," replied Mother. "I have been back to it quite lately. I sometimes forget about it for a time, but I always like to go back to it when I am feeling a little tired or cross. It is so nice to rest there."
"Has Father got a house there?"
"Yes. I once had a tiny peep at it. It was so untidy, just as he likes things to be. Papers and books all over the floor; clothes all unfolded, and a smell of tobacco in every room. He called it a 'heavenly little house.'" And Mother laughed merrily at the thought.
"Did you really see it?"
"Yes, but it was only a peep, you know. He has seen the inside of mine once, and he said he thought he would have to sleep outside in the garden if he ever came to pay me a visit. The house was far too neat and tidy for a big clumsy man."
"Did you ever see the fairies?"
"Long, long ago. You see, once you have been back to your little house they know that you belong to the 'right people,' and only pay you a visit on very special days."
"Oh, then shall I go back to my little house again?" asked George.
"Of course you will, so long as you don't become too grown-up. If you forget your house it will fall into ruins, and by and by you will never be able to find it again."
"Ah, that's what Alexander said!" answered George.
There seemed to be no end to the things George was learning from his adventures. One day he said to Nurse: "The dragon's fortune—the little dragon, I mean—lay right under his nose, didn't it?"
"Yes," replied Nurse, "right under his nose."
"Is mine under my nose?"
"Yes, if you look for it. It's been there all the time." Nurse smiled more like a witch than ever.
George had a long talk with Alexander about this. Although Alexander only seemed to wuff-wuff, George was quite certain that he could understand him now.
"I believe," said George, with his hands deep in his pockets—big pockets he had specially asked for—"I believe Mother's a piece of my fortune, quite a large piece. Father's another and"—here he hugged Alexander—"you're another! Of course, I mustn't forget Nurse," he added.
Mother was very pleased when she heard this, and one day after tea she showed George something she had found in his room on the day he came back from the Once-upon-a-Time Land. They were leaves—golden-brown leaves—from Tom Tiddler's sack! George had almost forgotten about them.
"I have been keeping these safe for you," she said. "You must not lose them. It would never do to throw away your fortune."
"No; I would like to have them always, so that I shall never forget. Now that I know where my fortune is I don't want to go searching for it again, though I did enjoy myself."
Mother took a piece of paper out of the pocket of her apron. "You remember that each of the guests at your party gave you a present. What were they? Do you know still, or have you forgotten?"
George thought for some time. "I can half guess, you know, but I'm not sure."
"Well, they gave you each a gift which you could not buy for gold or jewels. Think of what you would like to be?"
"I should like to be happy," said George at once.
"That's one!"
"Oh, and healthy too. It's horrid to be ill, and I should like to be brave like Sir Tristram and ... oh, I know, full of fun and laughter like the dragon."
"Yes; there are still some more."
"Well, wise like the witch or like Tom Tiddler. Oh"—here he clapped his hands—"unselfish like Alexander! He's always ready to forgive me, even if I hurt him."
Alexander, who was lying at his feet, looked up and wagged his tail.
"And what did the beautiful Queen give you? Her present was the best of all!"
"The best of all?" How sweet she had looked, the dear Queen, almost—no, just the same as Mother!
"Have you guessed, dear?" said Mother, bending down and kissing George.
In a moment he knew. "Of course, how stupid of me! It's the last and the best!" And he hugged her and Alexander in turns.
