Tales out of school

by Frank R. Stockton

THE VOLDORITES MARCH INTO THE COUNTRY OF THE CABORDMEN.

Now the poor Cabordmen knew not what to do. They were not soldiers, and, indeed, there was not so much as a single sword or spear or shield in the whole country. They never had gone to war and they were not prepared for it, nor did they know anything about fighting. It was altogether a new business to them.

They gathered together and held hasty consultations, but they could decide upon no plan to repel the invaders. What could they—a nation of simple, jolly husbandmen—do against a great army of well armed and practised warriors?

There seemed to be nothing left for them but to surrender at once, and let the Voldorites help themselves to whatever they wanted. In this case the poor Cabordmen and their families would not only be stripped of every thing, but it was very likely indeed that the invaders would carry off many of them as prisoners, and take them to Voldor, and make them cultivate the land of their captors.

This was terrible to think of. But they could devise no plan to escape this dreadful fate.

The Voldorites were now encamped upon the northern edge of their territory, which was yet uninhabited and barren. The enemy so far had met with none of the Cabordmen, but many of the latter had seen the great army from afar without having made themselves visible.

Night came on while the people were in this fearful condition of fear and suspense. Less than a day’s march would bring the fierce enemy into their midst. No one went to bed, for who could sleep at such a time? No fires or lamps were lighted. They all gathered together by the faint light of the new moon, and bewailed their sad condition.

There was only one person among them who seemed to have retained his courage and thoughtfulness. This was a young man named Adar Gan Ip.

He was named Adar because he was a painter. Ip was his family name, and he was called Gan after his grandfather. He was the only painter in the whole nation, and he had learned his trade in a neighboring country, where he had been to sell grain.

He principally painted signs and portraits. He did not paint many portraits, because the people had but little time to sit for them, but he painted a good many signs on barns and granaries. People liked to have their names on their barns. He had no paint but one pot of white paint. So when he painted portraits he painted only old men, so that the white paint would do for their hair and beards as well as for their faces. Having no colored paint for eyes, he always painted portraits with the faces turned around, so that the eyes could not be seen.