Schlorge jumped down and began scrambling his tools together; then hewent rushing wildly, as usual, down the road to the Dimplesmithy. "Gosee her, Sara!" he shouted back over his shoulder encouragingly."You'll enjoy it! Go on!"
So Sara, who really needed no urging, went smiling down the littlepath (it was curly again, though very white) toward the little arch inthe hedge. And from there she looked out upon another exhilaratingscene.
Now I did not think it necessary to say that the snow in the Gardenwas of powdered sugar, as it is in all well-informed stories; butbeyond the hedge, as far as the eye could reach (and Sara had quite along eye for her age--her mother was kept busy letting out hems) thesnow was of powdered silver. I am sorry to say it was not good to eatat all; but it was so much more beautiful than the common garden kindthat I do not believe you would have minded, any more than Sara did.It was, of course, fairy snow, while the other was just the plainimaginary kind.
But the scene before her was so strange and animated that even thesnow could not hold Sara's attention for long. (It was slippery, forone thing; and, besides, the crust was thin, and Sara's attention wasso excited and skippy that it was continually breaking through.)
Beyond Avrillia's house on one side, in the direction Sara had gonewith Pirlaps to see his relations, was a long, delightful hill; andthere all the seventy children were coasting and snowballing. Everyone of them had on a cap that seemed to be made of a tiny red pepper,and their little mittened fists looked exactly like holly-berries.Their sleds were of curled rose-petals, and Sara knew without beingtold that it had cost their mother quite a struggle to spare so manyfrom the supply she had collected to write poems on. Sara had watchedthem for several minutes before she noticed that they always coasteduphill and dragged their sleds down. And all the time the air flashedwith snowballs so big that they looked like the tantalizing silverballs which sometimes occur in the nicest boxes of chocolates.
It was some time before Sara could disengage her attention (it hadbecome entangled in the rope on one of the smaller children's sleds)to examine the extraordinary scene near at hand. For, on the lawn atone side of Avrillia's house, opposite the rose-garden, where Pirlapsusually sat painting under the fog-bushes, a large table had beenplaced; and around it were assembled a group of the mostremarkable-looking persons Sara had ever seen. If they had not been solarge, Sara would have been sure that they were birds; but the largestone was a head taller than Sara herself, and the very smallest was atleast as large as her youngest cousin.
Pirlaps, who was helping Yassuh put some sort of food on the table,looked up and saw Sara; and in a moment he put down the dish he had inhis hand and seemed to slip away unnoticed, to come to her. Sarawondered at this, for Pirlaps was always so polite; it would have beenmuch more like him to excuse himself with a courteous bow to hisguests.
"Good morning, Sara," he said in a low tone, when he reached her side."A glorious morning, isn't it? Avrillia thought you would enjoy seeingthe Birds fed, and the children at their winter sports. Avrilliaherself is very busy just now; the suet gave out and she's gone toorder some more. But I daresay she'll have time to speak to you aftera while. Meantime, I'll tell you who they are: it isn't polite tointroduce them to anybody. Indeed, I must tell you that their ways arevery peculiar, and they are very easily offended; so try to becareful. For instance, you must never speak aloud in their presence,but only behind your hand, in a whisper; and if you wish to make thebest impression, do not seem to see them at all. Also, if you shouldcare to partake of any of the food, remember not to touch it with yourhands: that is the very worst of bad manners. Always take it with yourbeak--I mean your mouth."
Sara stood perfectly still, watching; never had she been so charmedand astonished.
"Who are they?" she asked, after a moment.
"Well, the tallest one, with the high blue beaver hat, is the Popinjay,"said Pirlaps. "He's just about the cock of the walk, and he's quiteself-important and touchy. The one with the very long bill, and thestiff, stumpy tail that he uses for a cane, is the Redpecker. The onein the checked suit, with the black necktie, yellow satinsleeve-linings, and white patch on his coat-tail, is the Snicker. He'sfull of fun and a good fellow, but rather crude--for he'll sometimestalk to you a little if he's sure the others aren't looking. Ants arehis favorite food, but Avrillia didn't put up any this summer, so Ihad to send Yassuh down to the colony to get one of my uncles for him.Poor Uncle," said Pirlaps, looking very sad for a moment, "I hated todo it; but he was only a half-uncle and quite old, and lately he hadgrown so thin that he was hardly more than a three-eighths one.However, he was plenty for the Snicker," he added more cheerfully,"he's not as exacting as most of them. The little lady in brown, withthe bustle, is a When; like the Snicker, she's really quite a charminglittle person, though of an interrogative turn of mind; and they allfrown on her sociable ways. The fierce-looking old gentleman with theRoman nose is the Squawk; he has a worse disposition, even, than thePopinjay. That beautiful little lady with the deep blue velvet cloakand the vest that looks like ploughed fields in March, is the Skybird;she is lovely and gentle, and reminds me of Avrillia. But she's quiteabsent-minded. Besides, she's very careful of her manners; so don'texpect her to speak to you. Now come on, and watch them eat."
Sara was very curious, but a little timid, the visitors looked solarge and so strange; so she held tight to Pirlaps' hand as they stolecarefully up to the group and stopped near the table. The Popinjay,the Squawk, the Redpecker and the Skybird went on eating as if nothinghad happened, so Sara felt sure she had been sufficiently polite; butthe little When, who was hopping about from one side of the table tothe other, cast a bright, questioning glance at her that made herwhisper, behind her hand, and under her breath, "Next August!" Andthen she was sure she heard the Snicker wink.
All this time Sara had been aware of an irresistible curiosity aboutthe table. It looked somehow familiar and unpleasant; and yet it wasof a beautiful primrose yellow, decorated with blue roses. At last sheput up her hand and whispered to Pirlaps, "The table! Where did youget the table? It wasn't here the other day!"
Pirlaps laughed softly. "Ah, Sara," he said, "you aren't easy tohoodwink! That's the Seven-Times table. Avrillia and I had a regularbattle about it. Of course we never really quarrel," he explainedseriously, "but we sometimes have a lively clash of wills. After wefinished off the Fractions yesterday, I was determined to save thattable for a memento. Avrillia hated the idea, and positively refusedto have it in the house; and then I won my point by remembering thatwe'd never had a table large enough for the birds to eat from when itsnowed. I told her we'd keep it on the lawn. She tried to persuade meto order a plain Time-Table from your country, instead; saying that,though it would be bad enough to have our nice clean eternitycluttered up with a Time-Table, it would be better than one of these.But I finally brought her around, by promising to paint it and make itas pretty as possible. She'll forget its real nature after a while,and I shall always value it greatly for its historical interest."
Sara's mind was distracted toward the close of this explanation by thepeculiar, not to say angry, behavior of the Popinjay and the Squawk,who, she was sure, had become displeased about something. Onepeculiarity of the Popinjay's she had not noticed until she came nearthe table. It was that, though he had two perfectly good feet, theyseemed to have grown to a sort of perch, which was fastened crosswiseto a sharp peg; and when he wished to move he had to hop from place toplace, sticking this peg into the snow. He was now hopping round andround the table with loud, incoherent cries, while the little Whenflitted from place to place to keep out of his way, and the Snickerlaughed softly in his yellow satin sleeve. Sara touched Pirlaps on thearm.
"Mercy me!" cried Pirlaps, speaking softly, but forgetting in hisexcitement to cover his mouth with his hand. "The table is quite empty,and Avrillia has not come with the rest of the suet! Yassuh shouldhave brought more crumbs long ago. Let's go to the house and seewhat's the trouble, Sara!"
They hurried to th
e house, and began looking everywhere. They evenopened the door of Avrillia's own bed-room, which was upholsteredentirely in pink morning-glory satin, with hangings of opalescent mist;Sara thought it was quite the most ravishing place she had ever seen;at least she though so until Pirlaps distractedly led her down intothe basement to Avrillia's kitchen. A smell of something delectablescorching enveloped them as they opened the door. And there beside thestove, all deliciously sticky and comfortable, lay Yassuh, fast asleepand half melted; while little wisps of smoke curled out of the crackbetween the oven and the door. The stove was almost as big as the tinone Jimmy had given Sara for Christmas, but much more massive andefficient-looking. On the table, looking so delicious that they madeyour mouth water, were the ingredients with which Yassuh had beenworking: a bubble-pitcher of milk-weed cream, a bowl of butterfly eggs(the daintiest things!), a silver panful of flour from the best whitemiller, and a large silk sack of snow-sugar from the Garden. Sara hadto put her hands behind her back.
"Yassuh!" shouted Pirlaps; and Sara had never before heard him speakangrily. "The messy little rascal! I can't even kick him to wake himup--I'd never get my foot out! Where are the tongs? Here, Sara, youtake the poker, and help me with him!"
So saying, Pirlaps picked the soft and sleeping Yassuh up gingerlywith the tongs, and Sara put the poker crosswise under the softestpart of him to keep him from pulling apart, and together they carriedhim to the door and dropped him outside, where he made adelicious-looking brown puddle on the silver snow.
"You stay and watch him till he hardens," called Pirlaps, hurryingback toward the kitchen, "and don't let him go to sleep again. As soonas he's hard enough, send him straight in here to me."
Sara stood on the doorstep watching Yassuh, who was now awake andgrinning, and she was very much interested to see how, as he hardened,he wriggled himself back into shape, like a chrysalis that has justshed its caterpillar skin. She was sure this was no new experience toYassuh.
Presently she thought he was hard enough to be taken back into thekitchen; and there they found Pirlaps, sitting with flushed face uponhis own fast-melting step, taking little muffin-pans full offresh-baked crumbs out of the oven. One panful, alas, was burnt to acrisp, and some of the others were a shade too brown; but oh, they didsmell and look so very delightful! Considered as muffins (and theylooked so like them that Sara could not help being reminded of them)they were certainly the tiniest things imaginable; considered ascrumbs (and that was what she had heard Pirlaps call them) they wereconsiderably above the average in size. For all that, whatdiscouragingly small crumbs for such appallingly large birds! Nowonder Pirlaps was so worried, and looked so unnaturally hurried andstrenuous!
"Here, Yassuh!" he called, without stopping to scold him. "You emptythese into the baskets and take them right out to the table; and thenyou hurry right back and get another batch into the oven as quick asyou can. Roll!"
Yassuh, apparently quite refreshed by his nap, went tumbling out withthe fragrant baskets, and Sara hurried after Pirlaps in his anxioussearch for Avrillia. At last they thought of the balcony; and as theyran up the stairs, there, indeed, they saw Avrillia, with her whitearm outstretched above the balustrade, watching a curled rose-leaf asit floated down, down, down.
"Avrillia!" called Pirlaps. "Where is the suet?"
Avrillia was leaning far out over the balcony, gazing down intoNothing. She straightened up and turned around, looking at them witheyes that hardly saw them.
"It didn't stick," she murmured.
"Avrillia! the suet!" cried Pirlaps, laying his hand on her arm andshaking it ever so little. "The suet!"
He was not cross--he couldn't be cross with Avrillia--but Sara thoughthe was for once almost half impatient. Avrillia's mind came back intoher beautiful eyes and she cried remorsefully,
"O Pirlaps, I forgot. Is it all gone? What will they think of me?"
"Every bit," said Pirlaps, relenting at once. "And Yassuh went tosleep and burnt up a whole panful of crumbs."
"Oh, dear!" cried Avrillia, "how dreadful! The suet came quite a whileago, but while I was slicing it I thought of a poem about snow; andthen I happened to think that maybe the air over the Verge might be alittle warmer than it is here, and so the poem might melt a little asit fell, and, maybe, stick. But it didn't," she finished, growingabstracted again.
"Too bad," said Pirlaps, peering down into Nothing with real sympathyin his voice. Then, with a start, "But the suet, Avrillia?"
"Oh, let's go get it," cried Avrillia. "I laid it on my dressing-tablewhen I went to get a fresh handkerchief just before I sat down towrite."
So they flew to Avrillia's pink bed-room, and there was the suet, inthe midst of Avrillia's lacy pin-cushions and crystal toilet-bottles.They gathered it up and hurried out to the Birds, who were now eatingcrumbs and looking fairly good-natured; though you could tell by theway Yassuh's knees trembled that he had found them in a dreadfulstate.
Well, you can hardly imagine how busy they were kept, all thatafternoon--Sara and Yassuh and Pirlaps and Avrillia--supplying crumbsand suet to those thankless Birds. The lovely Skybird did, towardsundown, trill a beautiful little song of gratitude; but she addressedit to nobody in particular, and looked all the time straight into afog-bush--because of course it would have been very bad manners, asshe thought, to pay any attention to her hosts. The little When cast abright look at Avrillia, who whispered, when no one was looking, "Nextyear, dear--the first snow," and the Snicker, who was the mostreckless of all, nudged Sara with his elbow and said in astage-whisper, "Certainly did have a good time," and then snickeredloud and long. But the Popinjay and the Squawk and the Redpeckerdeparted without a word of thanks for all the food they had eaten andall the trouble they had caused.
As soon as they were gone Pirlaps and Avrillia drew a long, relievedbreath; then Pirlaps tossed his step to Yassuh and seized Avrilliaabout the waist, and whirled her up and down the silver paths in thegayest, most fantastic little dance Sara had ever seen. Presently theystopped before Sara.
"Now for the waffles, Sara," said Pirlaps; and Avrillia stooped andkissed her and said, "Come, Sara, and see what I can cook!"
Sara thought the notion of Avrillia's cooking must be an odd andpretty fancy, but she skipped back with them to their little house,holding a hand of each. Through the windows she could see the fairylights gleaming, for it was growing late and cold. They led her againdown into the little shining, warm kitchen, where the lights from theglowing stove danced upon the silver bowls, and the air was full ofdelicious, spicy smells.
"Lie down, Yassuh, and go to sleep," cried Avrillia; and so saying shetook down her kitchen-apron from the gold-headed pin where it hung andbegan to flit about the cook-table--measuring out snow-sugar andbreaking butterfly eggs into her shining cups and bowls. Then she gotout the silver waffle-irons (Sara wanted them for her toy stove) andbuttered them, and put them on the stove to heat while she beat up thebatter.
Meantime, Sara helped Pirlaps to set a dainty little round table (notat all like a multiplication table) with pink shell dishes, and put ona jar of honeysuckle honey and a pat of buttercup butter. ThenAvrillia baked the waffles and they sat down to eat.
Avrillia had hardly taken the first mouthful when she cried, "I forgotthe children!" and sprang up and flitted to the door.
As she opened the door Sara heard faint little cries and tinklinglaughter, drifting back from the hill where the children still playedand frolicked in the snow. Presently Avrillia shut the door and cameback to her place at the table.
"Bless their hearts!" she said, smiling, "I think I'll just let themstay out and play all night--they're always begging me to let them.And they're having such a good time I can't bear to vanish them. Theywon't bother us," she added, daintily pouring honeysuckle syrup on herwaffle.
The waffles were so tiny and delicious that, every time she hadswallowed one, Sara almost thought she had dreamed it.
"I didn't know you could cook, Avrillia," she said, shyly andadmiringly.
Avrillia looked pleased. "Oh, anybody can cook!" she said, lightly.Sara understood from her tone that not everybody could write poems onrose-leaves.
"We do this every year, Sara," said Pirlaps, "the first time it snows.It's our favorite philanthropy. It's a big undertaking, and rather toomuch of a strain for Avrillia, but we can't make up our minds to giveit up."
"And then, when it's all over," continued Avrillia, "I make waffles(aren't they good, Sara?) and we eat down here in the kitchen, andrelax, and have a lovely, cozy time. And it makes it doubly pleasantwhen we have some congenial person to help us celebrate--like you,Sara."
Sara's little heart swelled with love and pride. Her eyes traveledonce more over the shining little table, and the friendly faces ofPirlaps and Avrillia, and the glowing little kitchen, and out throughthe little window, where the fog-bushes were making long blue shadows,and the fairy lights danced on the silver snow.
Never before had she stayed so late. But neither had she ever had sucha lovely time.
The Garden of the Plynck Page 9