THE EXECUTION OF THE DODO.
“Let us pretend,” suggested the Palæotherium, “that the Dodo is dead. They will readily imagine that the shock has been too much for him, and, of course, being dead, there will be no necessity to execute him.”
“He—he—he! Very nice indeed. A capital arrangement!” giggled a voice over the children’s shoulder; and, turning round, they beheld the Executioner, who had apparently overheard everything that had been said.
“Bother!” remarked the Palæotherium; “now I shall have to invent some other way.”
“I can’t think,” said the Executioner, who had removed his mask, and who the children discovered to be a very amiable-looking gentleman—“I can’t think why you are making all this fuss about the execution.”
“Well, how would you like it yourself?” asked the Dodo, indignantly.
“I shouldn’t mind in the least,” remarked the Executioner, coolly.
“Not mind being killed!” shuddered the children.
"I never kill anybody when I chop their heads off."
“Oh, that’s another question entirely,” said the Executioner. “I never kill anybody when I chop their heads off. It would be so cruel; besides, that old-fashioned way is so ordinary. I am the Executioner Extraordinary, you know.”
“Well, how on earth do you execute people, then, if you don’t kill them?” demanded Dick.
“Oh, by a new method, which I have invented myself,” declared the Executioner. “I call it execution by proxy. I just make an effigy.”
“What’s that?” inquired Marjorie.
“Don’t interrupt,” said Dick. “Guy Fawkes is an effigy, you know—an old stuffed thing, with a mask on. Go on, please.”
“Well, then,” continued the Executioner, “having made an effigy, as near like my subject as possible, I just chop its head off, and there is an end of the matter.”
He looked around at the company, and smiled triumphantly.
Marjorie gave a sigh of relief. She didn’t so much mind the execution taking place if the poor Dodo was not to be killed. To her great surprise, however, on looking at that interesting bird, she discovered that he was weeping copiously, and wiping with an elaborate lace handkerchief, which had evidently been concealed about his person, the tears which trickled slowly down his great beak.
“What’s the matter, poor goosey, goosey, gander?” said Fidge, sympathetically.
“Don’t!” snapped the Dodo, crossly. “I’m not a goose.”
“Well, what is the matter, anyhow?” said Dick. “They are not going to chop your head off it appears; so you ought to be glad, and not snivel like that.”
“I d—don’t want to—to be—e m—made a guy of,” sobbed the Dodo.
“What do you mean?” asked the Executioner.
“Why, you said you would have to make an effigy of me; and he” (pointing to Dick) “said it was a kind of Guy Fawkes, didn’t you?” he added appealing to Dick.
“Well, never mind,” said the Archæopteryx, sympathetically; “you have the consolation that they couldn’t make you a bigger guy than you are.”
Strangely enough, the Dodo seemed to derive a considerable amount of comfort from this idea, and, wiping away the few remaining tears, he began to take an active interest in the manufacture of the effigy, which the others set about constructing without further delay.
“Is it like me?” he asked, conceitedly, as they bound some cloths to a piece of stick, in such a way that they bore some slight resemblance to a bird.
“Dear me, what a pity! I’m not moulting, or you might have had one or two of my feathers to stick on for a tail,” he added.
“H’m! I shouldn’t have thought you had any to spare for moulting purposes,” said the Archæopteryx.
“Don’t be unkind,” retorted the Dodo; “you haven’t many to boast of.”
“I’ve more than you have, anyhow,” said the Archæopteryx.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake leave off quarreling. What on earth does it matter how many feathers you have?” said Dick.
“Not to a boy, I suppose,” remarked the Dodo, somewhat insolently; “but no respectable bird would care to be seen about with less than five; though, undoubtedly, too many are vulgar”—this with a scornful glance at the Archæopteryx’s tail, which was decorated with quite a number of curious flat feathers.
I don’t know how much longer this wrangling would have gone on, had not the Court Glover just then made his appearance.
“Time’s up!” he announced, sternly. “Are you prepared for execution, Dodo?”
“Not quite,” answered the Executioner, who was putting the finishing touches to the effigy; “his head keeps tumbling off.”
“Never mind, it will save cutting it off,” said the Court Glover, who was evidently quite used to the Executioner’s patent method of performing his dreadful duty.
“Now then,” he continued importantly. “Stand round in a ring while I read the Warrant. ”Ahem! Nevertheless, likewise, notwithstanding, heretofore, as is aforesaid. It having been proven that a certain bird named the Dodo having maliciously and contemptibly worn the white kid gloves of the Little Panjandrum, it is hereby enacted that the said Dodo, or his heirs male, or assigns, be chopped at the neck till one or all of their respective heads do fall off—and this to be done to their entire satisfaction. Long live the Panjandrum!””
"'Alas! Alas!' murmured the Court Glover."
“What a rigmarole!” whispered Dick, while the Executioner stretched out the Dodo’s effigy on the ground, and, resuming his hideous black mask, made ready to strike.
“Alas! Alas!” murmured the Court Glover, covering his face with his hands, and peeping through his fingers, while the Dodo held his sides with suppressed laughter.
The children all looked on with interest as the Executioner performed his terrible duty. Raising his curious scythe-like chopper, with one mighty blow he severed the piece of wood which answered for the Dodo’s neck, and then stood gloomily aside.
“Fiat Justitia!” said the Court Glover, solemnly; and then, turning to the Dodo, he inquired anxiously, “Well, how did you like it?”
“Oh! it was delightful!” replied the bird, enthusiastically. “I am sure no one could wish to have a pleasanter or more delightful execution. I’m much obliged to you for having it so nicely performed.”
“Well, we always like to manage these little things as pleasantly as possible, you know,” said the Court Glover, deprecatingly.
“Oh! I quite enjoyed it!” said the Dodo. “That’s a very nice Executioner you have.”
“Yes; isn’t he?” agreed the Court Glover. “Pity he laughs so much, though, it spoils the effect. Well, having done my duty, I must be off. Any message for the Little Panjandrum?”
“Oh! can’t we go back with you in the balloon?” asked Marjorie, eagerly, for it seemed to her a capital opportunity of getting away from this strange place.
“H’m! I’m afraid not,” said the Court Glover, reflectively. “You see, it only holds two comfortably.”
“Where do you want to go to?” asked the Archæopteryx.
“England!” said the children, all together.
“Oh! that’s all right. I’ll tell you the way to get there,” said the Palæotherium.
And the Court Glover and the Executioner began to undo the cords which held the balloon to the palm tree.
“You might leave me your card,” said the Dodo to the Executioner, pressing a small coin into his hand. “I shall probably go in for a complete course of execution when I get back again; and, besides, the address of a good, reliable Executioner is a handy thing to have in the house.”
The Executioner giggled, and handed the bird his card, and then both he and the Court Glover got into the car, and the balloon was soon vanishing in the distance.
After watching them nearly out of sight the Dodo capered wildly about till the children began to fear that he had suddenly gone off his head.
“Whatever is the matter?” inquired Dick. “Why are you carrying on in that absurd way?”
The Dodo fumbled beneath one wing, and drew forth a little paper package.
“Ha! ha! ha! They went away without the gloves after all!” he shrieked, and began to roll about on the ground in an uncontrollable fit of laughter.