A Little Maid in Toyland

by Adah Louise Sutton

The Polly-nosed Saphead lived in a great, round tower about half a mile from the palace. He had been advised of the advent of royalty by means of the wireless telegraph, which has always existed in Toyland. In fact, he claimed to be the inventor of it. But be that as it may, he received the message from the King all right, and was on hand to receive the royal party in his big audience room on the first floor.

When they entered the hall he was discovered sitting in his big chair of state, his shrunken little body wrapped in a loose robe of crimson covered with queer black figures and lined with white fur, while his two pet gargoyles sported about at his feet. Sally saw with astonishment that he was not a doll, but a real little man, or, more properly speaking, a little dwarf, with a great head as bald as a billiard ball. This defect was partially concealed by one little tuft of hair or scalp lock, which had a dreadful habit of lifting itself straight up in the air whenever it did not agree with the sentiments expressed by its wearer. As for the back of his head, it was as smooth as the palm of your hand, a fact which had long ago firmly convinced its owner that it was extremely impolite ever to turn his back on anyone. He had, in consequence, acquired a reputation for great courtesy, and was pointed out as a kind of Chesterfield to the rising generation of Toyland.

Great, flapping ears stuck out on either side of the Wizard’s little weazened face, while his big, bulging eyes were shaded by brows and lashes that, naturally white, were always carefully dyed to match the scalp lock, which, if the truth must be told, was dyed too. After a time the dye gradually wore off and grew lighter in color, so that when the great man neglected to visit his barber at proper intervals, his hair, not to mention his lashes, became gradually of a delicate green hue, having worked successively through every known shade of brown before it reached this undesirable tint. When in good condition, it was of a rich and glossy brown, shading upon black. “Streaky,” Bedelia cruelly declared it, the moment she laid eyes upon it.

But the most astonishing feature belonging to the Polly-nosed Saphead was his large, beak-like nose that, shining and fleshless, rose determinedly from the surrounding level of his countenance like the bill of a poll-parrot, and imparted to his general appearance an air of forever wishing to peer into mysteries. Never did question mark more continuously uprear a perpetual interrogation than did the great man’s inquiring nasal organ. Hence his name “The Polly-Nosed” which, far from being a term of ridicule, was on the contrary, a title of great respect. For were not parrots the wisest birds in all Toyland? Whatever the rest of the name meant in the general language of Toyland, we will not now pause to explain.

A real parrot of most brilliant plumage hung upside down on the back of the wise man’s chair, suspended by its claws and evidently fast asleep. While the gargoyles that Sally had at once perceived with great astonishment upon entering the hall, frisked about their master’s chair.

The little girl had never considered these queer creatures in any other position than close up under the eaves of a church. And she had always supposed that their chief occupation was to spout a great deal of water out of their huge mouths. These specimens, however, judging from their disorderly conduct, had never heard of such a place as a church. In fact, they were just then engaged in trying to swarm up the sides of their master’s chair, in order to pull down the parrot. That wise old fellow, knowing that in spite of their clumsy wings, they would never be able to reach him in his fastness without first wallowing all over their master, slept peacefully on, upside down as he was, and never paid any attention to them at all.

They certainly were remarkably hideous looking creatures, having apparently been left off when not more than half finished, for they possessed only a head and shoulders, with great front paws and strong, cruel looking claws. In addition to these, they each sported a pair of dragon-like wings. They had great mouths that very nearly met around at the back of their necks, and huge, bulging eyes, and altogether were anything but pretty pets.

However, they crouched on the floor at a gesture from the Wizard, who now hurriedly got himself up out of his big chair, and came forward, bowing and scraping with the most effusive courtesy. He had big eyes that stuck out dreadfully and gave them a ridiculous resemblance to the gargoyles, and so fearfully did they wiggle and roll about that Sally began to fear they would hop out of their sockets altogether before he had finished his profuse greetings.

He seemed especially glad to see Sally, whom he at once perceived to be of his own kind, and quite different from the inhabitants of Toyland.

Everybody having greeted everybody else with much politeness and warmth, the King announced that he would be greatly pleased if the Wizard would show Sally the wonders of his tower, especially the Department of the Sun, in which they were all greatly interested.