‘Stop, stop!’ she whispered, but she couldn’t say much because she was laughing so, and presently David found himself sliding down the remains of the staircase, and back into the ballroom. His hands slipped down and down her foreleg, and soon he was his own size again, with those four great legs standing among the ruins.
But even as he looked at them, still panting with the exertion of growing and ungrowing again, he saw that they were not legs any more, but the four pillars of the porch of the house next door, which had been the girls’ school and was now the Happy Families’ Institute. As he stood there, the door was opened a foot or two, and a large mutton bone flew past his head.
Before it closed again, a hoarse voice from inside said:
‘I’ll just have time to have my second helping before the concert. That sirloin will do. Chuck it over here, you greedy!’
Now David did not want to intrude again without being definitely asked, but he had a sort of idea that though nobody had asked him to the animals’ ball, he had been expected all the same, indeed, that the whole thing had been got up for him. Probably it was the same case here, for the giraffe had said that the happy families’ concert was part of the programme for the evening, and, after all, the fact that quite a short while ago the High Street had been decorated with banners, on which was written ‘David Blaize, the fireman’s son,’ was a sort of invitation from the happy families to become one of them. Also he was tired with growing and ungrowing, and thought it would be very pleasant to sit down and listen to a little music.
So, though it was not the sign of great cordiality to be greeted at the door by a huge mutton bone thrown at your head, he thought it better to ring the bell—though it wasn’t a bell but a coal-scuttle hung on a chain, and underneath it was the instruction ‘Knock also.’ So he first rang the coal-scuttle and then knocked it.
It sounded as if all the dinner bells in the world had been pealed, and all the postmen in the world had come with letters. He felt quite ashamed of having made such a tumult, and, with the giraffe still in his mind, stood on tiptoe to get his mouth close to the bell, and whispered:
‘Hush, please: I had no idea you were so loud.’
The noise ceased at once, and dead silence succeeded. Then David heard a little clink come from the letter-box in the door, and he saw that the shutter of it had been raised, and that Mr. Chip the carpenter was looking at him. Then Master Dose the doctor’s son had a look, and David heard him giggling as he passed on to make room for Mr. Bones the butcher. After that there was a sound of whispering inside, and he tried hard not to hear what was being said. But the harder he tried, the more distinctly he heard it.
‘It doesn’t look a bit like him. Where’s his fire?’