While this was very true, it did not help Sally in the least, and she was rather glad when the Queen declared that it was time to leave, and the whole party, having bade good-bye to the Wizard, with thanks for the pleasant if somewhat strenuous visit, returned to the palace.
CHAPTER XII
THE WEATHER PROPHET
ALTHOUGH there was no night in Toyland, a species of twilight prevailed after a certain hour, not dark enough to require lights, but it still proved deliciously restful after a day of perfect and brilliant sunshine.
These twilights were, of course, engineered by the Wizard from his tower, and by means of the gauze arrangements that the Sign Post had explained to Sally, were blue, pink, yellow, green, and so on, according to the fancy of the magician.
It was quite the fad to give afternoon teas that matched the twilight in color, and as a bulletin was posted each morning at the Wizard’s front door announcing the shade of the twilight to come, the rest was an easy matter. As soon as the diminishing sunlight proclaimed the approach of evening, myriads of fireflies were let loose in all the rooms of the palace, furnishing all the light that was necessary. Indeed, Toyland knew nothing of lamps or candles, gas or electric light. The cooking was all done with fuel, the secret of whose preparation was known to the Wizard alone. It was non-explosive and burned without consuming away, so that one good-sized chunk would last forever. In fact, when a person went to invest in fuel, he first had his cook stove measured and then ordered to be sent home a block of exactly the right dimensions. When he wanted it lit all he had to do was to use the bellows that hung by the side of every stove. This started the fire at once, and an occasional application kept it going. When the bellows was hung up for good, the fuel went out. In every kitchen was employed a boy who did nothing but blow the fire with the bellows. With such a state of affairs, conflagrations were unknown and, in fact, unheard of. To be sure, there were plenty of iron fire companies who appeared at intervals with other toys from the world of human beings, but their occupation was gone forever, and they were obliged to seek other pursuits, usually being given a place in the standing army, a position for which their brilliant uniforms easily fitted them.
On this particular evening after returning from the Wizard’s palace,—it was a pink evening, by the way—it was announced much to Sally’s delight that the Weather Prophet had declared snow for the following morning. If Sally was pleased, she was just as much astonished, for the weather was warm and the month she was quite sure was June. However, as the Wizard managed the Weather Prophet, who was only his mouth-piece, nobody ever knew, it appeared, what sort of weather might be expected within the next few hours. The Queen suspected that snow had been ordered for Sally’s benefit, and said so with a smile; while the King suggested that they should all go over to visit the Weather Prophet, as there was nothing especially amusing laid out for the evening. This was readily agreed to by everyone, and as soon as dinner was over they all started forth to walk to the house of the personage who ruled the weather.
The evening was beautiful. A rosy flush rested upon everything, while every wayside tree was filled with fireflies. To be sure, Bedelia declared that the pinkish glow made them all look as if they had scarletina. But as nobody in Toyland had ever heard of such a thing as scarletina, her joke fell very flat indeed.