Singing the last words, they ran toward the village. As they ran they dropped their books, their pencils, their hats, their gloves.
“Well, they are untidy,” said Kitty.
She remained with her eyes round open with surprise. She was just on the threshold of a pretty house which she had not perceived before. There was a porch before the door, with a creeper over it; and under it an old gentleman was sitting fast asleep in a garden arm-chair, with a handkerchief over his knees.
CHAPTER VI
DADDY COAX.
Kitty stood looking at him, not quite knowing what to do, for she did not like to wake him.
He looked such a dear old gentleman. He wore a snuff-colored coat and brown breeches, and a wig. Although his eyes were shut, and his mouth was open, and some mischievous child had given his wig a cock on one side, he had yet the pleasantest face. His pockets bulged out with sweets and toys: the head of a wooden horse peeped out of one, that of a dolly looked out of the other.
“I am sure he is Daddy Coax,” said Kitty to herself joyously.
The little boy, with the queer curls and the queer yellow eyes and the queer short legs, whom she had met on entering Naughty Children Land, was standing a few paces from the old man. He held a small looking-glass and caught the sunlight upon it. As he waved the mirror about a spot of light like a golden bird or a butterfly danced up and down. Sometimes it rested on the sleeper’s nose, sometimes on one eye, then on the other, sometimes on his forehead. Every time the spot of light rested on his face the old man moved in his sleep, lifted his hand, and tried to brush it away. Just as Kitty came up a little girl began to tickle his ear with a straw, and the spot of light danced so dazzlingly before his eyes that the sleeper jumped up with a start, wildly waved his handkerchief, beating the air with it. Then all at once he fell flat on the ground, tripped up by a cord that had been tied across the path.
When this happened the children roared with laughter and ran indoors. Kitty went to the old gentleman as he lay moaning, gently helped him to rise, and led him back to his arm-chair. His wig had fallen on the ground; she picked it up; he looked very odd with his bald head; but Kitty pursed up her lips not to smile, for she feared to hurt his feelings. She placed the wig on his head, made it straight, and then she patted the old man’s cheek.