Chapter IX Cheers and Butter
You would have followed the Snoodle, too, if he had wagged himself atyou in that delightful, insinuating fashion, rolled over and overacross your foot, and then gone frisking down the path, looking backbeguilingly over his shoulder.
So of course Sara did, as soon as she had properly disposed of herdimples. She went skipping along so eagerly that she did not noticethat it was an entirely different path--neither pink nor curly--untilshe had gone through a new arch in the hedge and found herself in themeadow, with the Equine Gahoppigas, all saddled and bridled, waitingfor her.
She had known from the first, just from his general expression, thatthe Snoodle was going to lead her to something interesting; but shewas not prepared for this.
It was clear, of course, that she was expected to ride the creature;but what it was she could not at first make out. It was about the sizeof a large hobby-horse, and, in respect to its beautiful, wavy maneand tail, much resembled it. Otherwise, it was exactly like agrasshopper. And it was rearing and snorting in a most alarmingmanner. As Sara stood considering, however, she caught a backward lookout of its wild eyes that said, "Oh, come on; it's all a joke."
So Sara took her seat in the saddle. Just as she gathered up the reinsthe Snoodle leaped up behind her--exactly as the trained dog in thecircus leaps up behind the monkey on the big Newfoundland. (Only,don't fall into the error of thinking that the Snoodle was a dog; youremember his mother was a snail.)
It was a novel and exhilarating sensation to Sara (that means the wayyou feel when you shoot the chutes at the Park) to go bounding throughthe sunny air on the back of the Gahoppigas. The soft wind whistledthrough her hair, and blew past her so strongly that she was not evenconscious of the Snoodle's drawback, though he sat so close to her. Atthe end of every leap the Gahoppigas rested for an instant upon adaisy head, and Sara saw that the heads of these daisies were as bigas her own.
Now, though Sara was really a nice child, there were two things shehad always been rather greedy about: and they were flowers andbutterflies. She had often wished, of a spring morning, wanderingalong her own garden paths, and gazing at the velvety brightness ofthe daisies, and the marvelous patterns of the butterflies whouncoiled their long tongues above them, that she might some daydiscover a meadow full of flowers as large as moons, perpetuallyfluttered over by butterflies as big as peacocks! Here, at last, werejust such flowers; and since the grasshoppers were as large ashobby-horses--no, it was not a grasshopper, it was an EquineGahoppigas! Still, it was more like a grasshopper than anything elseshe had ever seen.
You must not be surprised that Sara's thoughts were quite jerky anddisconnected, for she had never before traversed a meadow in soaringleaps, with only a minute now and then to take breath--and even thatminute spent among the flying yellow hair of a swaying daisy. Still,all through the enjoyment and excitement, she managed to keep tighthold of one wish--if only there would be butterflies as big aspeacocks!
Well, there were, of course; on that side of the ivory doors youcannot wish for anything as hard as Sara did without getting yourwish. To be sure, they must have been there long before Sara wished;for the Butterfly Country on which Sara now rested her astonished eyeshad the look of a long-settled community. I need not tell you that itwas so beautiful it fairly took your breath: you would know that ithad to be, with those great flowers nodding everywhere, and thosegreat gay wings drifting, and sailing, and soaring, and zigzagging,and crossing over them. But, all of a sudden, Sara made a discoverythat stopped her heart in a breath. In a country where the butterflieswere as big as peacocks, the caterpillars were as big asboa-constrictors! Sara didn't know the exact size of a boa-constrictor,having met them only in her Geography: but surely they couldn't be anybigger than these! Certainly they were big enough to swallow her aseasily as the big black snake Jimmy had killed swallowed the egg.
Now, if you can imagine a country inhabited by sea-serpents, of brightgreen and brown and pink and yellow, with all kinds of assorted hornsand knobs and prickles, you can imagine what Sara saw as theGahoppigas took its last flying leap and alighted on a flamingmarigold at the foot of the palace-steps. Well, of course you wouldhave to imagine the palace, too; and part of it would be quite hard toimagine. It was a gorgeous place, of a beautiful amber color, and wasbuilt of solid blocks of honey-comb,--which, however, had been treatedby the builders so that they had a hard glaze, to prevent the wingsand feet of the butterflies from sticking when they touched the walls.The roof was a woven affair, very cunningly made so that the topsurface was a sort of thatch of flower-stems, while the ceiling was asolid sheet of flowers. Of course, in this climate, they were alwaysfresh. The butterflies had their beds on the ceiling; indeed, as Saraarrived rather early, a few roistering young blades who had been outlate the night before were still hanging with closed wings from theroof, fast asleep.
Sara could see all this through the open door, which was made of anenameled lily-pad (extra-size, like the other things in this lusciousplace). But the thing that startled her most, and that you would havefound it most difficult to imagine, was the strange way in which theroof was supported.
A very elegant butterfly, who seemed to be an officer in uniform, wasstanding on his hind legs at the right of the entrance. His waist wasvery slim, his wings were very rich, and he was curling and uncurlinghis proboscis languidly. Sara slid off the Gahoppigas and approachedas near as she dared.
At that moment a little gong sounded somewhere (like a temple-gong ina Japanese fairy-story) and the Butterfly-Officer straightened up andcalled out in a sharp, military voice, "Shift Three!"
Instantly the caterpillars that were supporting the roof beganwriggling out from under it, and a new relay that appeared as if bymagic began taking their places, planting their tails firmly on thefloor and adjusting their heads against the ceiling, and pressingupward by making their long bodies very stiff and straight. Of coursethey did not all do it at once, or the roof would have floated offinto the sky; on the other hand, they relieved each other a few at atime, with admirable precision and with no disorder whatever, as ifthey had had long drill in this complicated manoeuvre.
The caterpillars who had been relieved seemed to be very much relievedindeed; they stretched out their long, cramped bodies luxuriously, andwent lumbering off together by twos and threes, with their hands intheir pockets. Sara started to follow a bristly comma-caterpillar whowent off alone, but he was so big that she just couldn't make up hermind so do it. She had once fed one for three weeks in a fruit jar,and she knew that kind couldn't hurt her--still-- She felt she wasjust compelled to talk to somebody; but she believed she would rathertry the Butterfly-Officer who was on duty at the entrance. He lookedbored and supercilious, but his wings were beautiful.
She drew near after a while and said, as pleasantly as she could,
"Good-morning!"
"Yes," said the officer, without looking around.
Sara was a little taken aback, but he looked so conceited, as he stoodthere coiling and uncoiling his watch-spring tongue, that she suddenlyfelt herself growing quite provoked.
"That isn't the right answer," she said.
The Butterfly-Officer turned his lazy eyes and looked her over forsome time without speaking.
"You said it was a good morning, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"And I agreed, didn't I?"
"Yes," said Sara.
"Well, then," said the Butterfly-Officer, turning away and beginningto coil and uncoil his spring.
This was not a very promising beginning. Sara would never learnanything at this rate. She must be more direct.
"Whose palace is this?" she asked.
"The Monarch's."
"Might--might I go in?"
"Certainly."
What a baffling person! He agreed to anything, apparently, and yet onenever learned anything. Sara wandered past him, presently, quitesubdued by his elegant scorn.
Presently, since nobody seemed to mind, Sara wandered straight intothe throne-room; and there sat the Monarch dozing on his throne, whilefourteen courtiers took turns in fanning him with their wings. AtSara's entrance, however, he awoke with a start; and Sara was terriblystartled herself, because it was the first time anybody had reallytaken any notice of her.
"Bring her some butter!" he commanded.
At his command four of the courtiers drifted away, and presentlyreturned carrying a silvery-white cloth, very rich and lustrous, wovenof many thicknesses of milk-weed-silk. This they spread on thegreen-tiled floor in a corner of the throne-room, near a littlefountain that trickled continually a sort of silver-colored syrup,which made a drowsy sound as it fell. Then they flew away again, andafter a good while returned carrying a pat of butter in a largemagnolia petal. The magnolia petal was about the size of Mother's bestturkey-platter, and as white and fragrant as the magnolias at home.And the pat of butter was about as large as a veal loaf. Of course itdid not look in the least like a veal loaf; it looked exactly likebutter--a delectable, golden yellow, and all dewy-looking, as it usedto come out of the spring-house at Grandmother's.
"Sit," said the Monarch, briefly.
Sara sat.
"Eat," said the Monarch, in the same sleepy but authoritative voice.
Now, Sara was terribly uncomfortable. To be sure, nothing had everlooked more delicious, and Sara liked butter on bread--a great deal ofit, in fact. But to eat all butter, without anything to go with it!Yet she felt it would be dreadfully impolite to refuse; and she couldnot bear to be thought impolite by all these haughty and elegantpersons. She was just about to say, humbly, "Please, might I have alittle bread?" when it occurred to her that she might just taste it,at least. And oh, how glad she was that she did! For, of course, youhave guessed that it was not just ordinary butter, though it lookedexactly like it. It was not even the plain imaginary kind: it wasenchanted butterfly butter. And if you have ever seen a monarchbutterfly as big as a peacock, sitting on a throne, you know what ittasted like. The nearest I can come to explaining is to say that ittasted a little like custard and a little like ice-cream and a littlelike a sort of candy Sara had forgotten the name of. And it had afragrance something like that of isthagaria.
The Monarch went to sleep as soon as he saw that Sara had begun to eat;but just before she finished he was awakened by a court official whocame in to announce, with a bored expression, that two ladies of highdegree, members of families very prominent in the realm, desired anaudience with His Majesty.
The Monarch sighed and rubbed his eyes with his feelers.
"Show them in," he said.
The two ladies came zigzagging in, talking and arguing excitedly; theywere the first really animated persons Sara had seen in all this warm,shimmering place.
"The Princess Interrogation: the Countess Leaf-Wing," announced thecourtier.
Then the two ladies, who had been talking to each other, both begantalking at once to the king. In spite of their aristocratic, high-bredair, their long necks and waists and slender wrists and ankles, theirhigh heels and gorgeous clothes, they were as angry as cooks.
"She was laying eggs on my food-plant!" cried the Princess.
"I wasn't!" shrilled the Countess. "What do I want with her oldnettle? Don't I know Croton capita turn when I see it? I was justresting, and she came and pushed me off--"
"She had already come and stuck her long tongue into a lily I had justoccupied," continued the Princess. "And I saw the eggs after sheleft--"
"They were your own old flat eggs," said the Countess contemptuously."You haven't mind enough to remember where you put them!"
"Oh, roses!" sighed the Monarch, "I suppose I'll never have anypeace. Always on the verge of civil war! Yesterday it was theclover-caterpillars complaining that the zebras were eating theirfood--"
Sara was just thinking how shockingly unbecoming such conduct was, andhow they were all behaving more like children than like the nice,unintelligent lower animals they ought to be, when another messengercame flying in in a state of actual excitement.
"Your Majesty!" he cried. "There's a strange animal attacking thecaterpillars!"
Sara's heart sank. The Snoodle--she knew it must be the Snoodle! Andshe felt responsible for him!
She jumped up from her silver table-cloth and ran out of the palacedoor, with the whole court zigzagging excitedly after her. It was anoiseless chase, for the butterflies (except when they quarrel) arevery quiet; but there was much excitement nevertheless. Sara ran alittle way from the palace before she came to the scene of thedisturbance--and such a scene as it was! Caterpillars everywhere,bristling, smooth, green, pink, eye-marked and eyeless; caterpillarsstanding on their tails, or crouching in every conceivable attitude ofdefense; and in their midst the little Snoodle, frisking and fawningand endeavoring to come to grips with the horny and horrified worms.There was one old Hickory Horn-Devil in particular, who had come outin front of the others like Goliath before the ranks of thePhilistines; and the Snoodle was dancing around him in an ecstasy ofanticipation. Though he was so excited, he looked so good-natured thatSara could not believe that he wished to harm even thesefierce-looking brutes; indeed, there was a sort of resemblance betweenthem, except for the expression. And, as she thought that, it flashedinto Sara's mind that the Snoodle did not really want to hurt them, atall, but only to embrace them! So she ran forward and cried to theexcited populace (who were spinning this way and that, wildly coilingand uncoiling their springs and crying, "What in butter shall we do?),
"He won't hurt them--he won't hurt them! He only wants to embracethem! He thinks they're his relatives--his father was a noodle!"
At this the people grew calmer, and began to gather around her head,asking cautious questions. The caterpillars did not seem tounderstand, and looked as frightened and agitated as ever; for Sarawas unconsciously speaking the butterfly language, and thecaterpillars spoke a different dialect.
"Give me a chance to prove my theory!" continued Sara, in thebutterfly language. "Here, Snoodle!" she called, soothingly."Here--Horn-Devil!" It took a great deal of courage for Sara to speaksoothingly to the giant caterpillar; but you see the butterfly peoplewere beginning to think her a very wise, brave person, and that madeit rather necessary for her to be one. So she gave a little gulp whichthe spectators took for a sign of bravery, and drawing nearer byinches, actually laid her hand on the rearing, plunging,panic-stricken creature! He lurched and snorted terribly when her handfirst touched him, but as he did nothing worse, Sara grew braver andmore hopeful, and began to pat and stroke him and say soothing words.Of course he could not understand the words, but he seemed tounderstand the tone, for presently he stopped rearing, and at laststood quite quiet, only breathing hard and trembling a little.
"Now, Snoodle, come here!" cried Sara, nerving herself for the supremetest of her theory.
The Snoodle sprang forward at the word, and, as Sara had foretold,threw his paws about the Horn-Devil's neck. The Horn-Devil sprang intothe air, making a sort of wild, whinnying sound (the only sound Saraever heard, then or afterward, from a caterpillar); but as Sara pattedhim kindly and the Snoodle only wagged himself ecstatically, he grewquiet again, and allowed himself to be hugged without further protest.Then the Snoodle, having finished his embrace, released his long-lostrelative and sat down on his long hinder-parts, looking about at thespectators with an air that said, "There! I'm satisfied! I didn't doany harm, did I?"
And at that the populace went wild
. You never saw such a change comeover a nation of people in your life. They showered attentions uponSara until she was so delighted that she scarcely knew how to deportherself. They proclaimed her a heroine; they brought a sort of sedanchair, borne, not by the common cabbage butterflies who usuallycarried them, but by a Chrysophanus hypophlaeas and a Lavateraassurgentiflora. And when they had put her into it they carried her atthe head of a procession to the royal gardens behind the palace, whereno mortal had ever entered; and there they crowned her with flowerswhich have no name in our language, but which the butterflies calltinnulalia. And they fed her--not with butter this time--but withhoney-dew. They fanned her with their enormous wings (as big aspeacocks') and hovered over her, and murmured compliments in her ears,until it was hard for her to believe that they were the same lovelybut supercilious race who had received her so coolly in the morning.And when, suddenly, the temple-gong sounded, and the Equine Gahoppigas,saddled and bridled, and champing his bit, appeared at the entrance tothe royal gardens, they all took out their cobweb handkerchiefs andwept bitterly.
And, indeed, Sara was loth to go; for this strange land was anenchanting place when its people were kind. But she saw that it wasgrowing late; and, as the shadows began to lengthen, she suddenlyremembered that she had followed the Snoodle away without tellinganybody. She was certainly older than the Snoodle; he was so young andirresponsible. Ought she not to have told the Snimmy's wife? Perhapshe was running away!
So she gathered up the reins and saw him leap safely up behind her;then she turned to wave good-by to the Butterfly Country and itsstrange, changeable, elegant inhabitants. And as long as she could seeanything she watched the pulsing, many-colored wings wavingregretfully over the royal garden with the strange flowers.
The ride home through the cool of the evening was as delightful as themorning's ride had been; but not quite so breathless and exciting,because it seemed to Sara by this time quite natural to ride upon aGahoppigas. But when she slid off her charger at the entrance of thePlynck's Garden her ears were assailed by an unspeakable clamor ofmournful sound; it sounded a little like a Swiss yodler with a brokenheart, and a little like a dog howling because the yodler was singing.And it went "Snoodle-oodle-oodle-ooo!!" And Sara knew, with a sinkingheart, that it was the Snimmy's wife lifting up her voice inlamentation for her lost child.
Therefore, for the first time, she was a little afraid to go into theGarden. But she had already been so brave that day that she had rathercontracted the habit; so she drew a long breath, and, saying calmly,"Come, Snoodle!" she walked straight up to the pool.
And such a clamor of rejoicing as arose at their appearance! ThePlynck was so surprised that she crowed like a rooster; and thenapologized to everybody (half-laughing and half-crying) for being sounladylike. The Teacup fluttered, the Snimmy sniffed; and the Snimmy'swife--that grim, undemonstrative woman--rushed out from the prose-bushand gathered her darling, and Sara, too, to her heart.
But Sara was not through being brave. She stepped up upon Schlorge'sstump, and, swallowing hard, said in a clear voice,
"Perhaps it was my fault. I'm older than the Snoodle--"
"Hurrah for Sara! She's older than the Snoodle!" cried the First andSecond Gunki. And at that the whole Garden went wild over her just asthe butterflies had done. The Gunki carried her around on theirshoulders; the Snimmy and his wife pelted her with moon-flowers; thePlynck and the Teacup kept up an agitated patter of femininehand-clapping; and Schlorge came running down the path from theDimplesmithy, cheering wildly.
When they finally put her down beside the dimple-holder, very rumpledand bright-eyed and flushed, Sara felt her little heart swell withpride. For twice that day she had been acclaimed a heroine--once becauseshe had tamed a caterpillar, and once because she was older than theSnoodle.
The Garden of the Plynck Page 14