But it is one thing to make a resolution and quite another thing tocarry it into effect. This the Officer was to experience ere the day wasover.
For in putting the Soldiers back into their place the shopwoman happenedto hit the Officer with some force against a dolls' house. Being a veryhard blow it knocked him off the platform, and, unnoticed by her, hefell on his back upon the counter.
Now came the time for the Elephant's revenge. _The Officer fell justunder the animal's trunk!_
It was, as the Officer at once realized, by no means a pleasantsituation. As his men were some yards away from him, and unable to comein a body to his rescue till perhaps too late, the Officer wasexceedingly uneasy.
"I had better soothe the monster," he said to himself. Then aloud, andin a pleasant voice: "What a nice handy trunk that is of yours; you mustbe able to carry so much in it? As for me, I have to travel with aportmanteau, a Gladstone-bag, a hat-box, and a gun-case; it is aterrible nuisance."
He paused, but the Elephant made no reply.
"This is not very pleasant," said the Officer uneasily to himself. "Ifear the beast is of a sulky temper. What _will_ happen to me?"
And he lay still, trembling and fearful.
At last the day closed in, the Mortals shut up the shop and left, andthe time of the Toys arrived.
The Elephant then addressed the Officer in a slow voice and ponderousmanner.
"I feel inclined to trample on you," he remarked.
The Officer closed his eyes with terror; then, half-opening them, heendeavored to look defiantly and speak boldly.
"Pre-pre-sump-tu-tu-ous b-b-b-beast!" he faltered.
The Elephant looked at him threateningly.
"It was on-on-ly my f-f-un!" stammered the Officer, trembling with fear,and all the crimson fading from his cheeks.
"Do you wish me to spare your life?" asked the Elephant.
"It is very valuable," the Officer replied more calmly as he regainedcourage, and unable to forget his foolish pride even in that awfulmoment.
"The world can do without it," said the great beast threateningly.
"Spare me!" cried the coward and bully.
The Elephant paused.
"Very good," he answered, "but only upon my own conditions."
"Certainly, certainly," the Officer said in a fawning voice. "Manythanks; any conditions that you may think proper."
After this the Elephant thought for a long while. Then he said:
"These are my conditions. You must submit to let me carry you up anddown the counter, stopping before such Toys as I shall see fit. Andwhenever I stop, you are to announce yourself in these words:'Good-evening. Have you kicked the coward and the bully? The realgenuine article, no imitation. If you have not kicked him already, kickhim without delay.'"
"It is too bad of you to require me to say this," the Officer cried, hisanger for the moment overcoming his fear. "But then you are not agentleman. You are--"
"When you have done," interrupted the Elephant, "I will begin."
So saying, and amidst the intense excitement of the other Toys, theElephant, with his trunk, slowly picked up his fallen foe by the back ofthe coat and began his ponderous march--so triumphant for himself, sohumiliating for the Officer.
The programme was carried out exactly as the Elephant had said it shouldbe, for the great gray beast was a beast of his word. He never made uphis mind in a foolish hurry, but having made it up he rarely altered it.
And so it was upon this occasion. After every few steps the hugecreature stopped before one or another of the Toys, when the formertyrant was obliged to announce himself as a coward and a bully, andinvite a kicking, an invitation which was always accepted, and actedupon with much heartiness.
Finally the avenger laid the Officer on the platform, from which theWooden Soldiers had been watching with amazement and horror the journeyof the Commanding-officer; understanding as they did for the first timethe strength of the great beast and afraid to interfere.
Having placed his humble foe in his old position, only upon his backinstead of upon his feet, the Elephant with his trunk deliberatelyknocked over all the Soldiers one after the other. Then he grunted andwalked slowly away.
So ended the reign of terror which the Officer and his Soldiers hadestablished over the toy-shop. And so universal was the reliefexperienced after the strain that had been felt, that the Elephant waseverywhere hailed as a Friend to the Public. Indeed, during theremainder of his stay in the shop, he was treated with greater respectand deference than any other toy,--Father Christmas only excepted,--andwhen he left at Christmas-time, the regret expressed was both loud andsincere.
CHAPTER V
"I am a little bit sorry for the Officer," said the little girl. "Hemust have been a good deal hurt. And he must have felt very silly, too,"she added.
"Almost worse than being hurt, isn't it?" said the little Marionette."Yes, I was a little sorry for him myself; but I think he deserved allhe got."
"Yes; because he _was_ a horrid bully, wasn't he?" said the little girl."And his men, too, were as bad as he. I always used to liketoy-soldiers. I never shall again."
"I should not like you to judge of all soldiers by the wooden ones Ihave told you of," said the Marionette. "We _have_ had in the shop setsof wooden and tin soldiers of the highest character; gallant fellows,beloved and esteemed by all. I will tell you of them to-morrow if youlike."
The little girl considered a moment.
"I think," she said at length, "I would rather hear something quitedifferent for a change. If you do not mind," she added politely.
"Not in the least," replied the little lady. "I shall think of a storythat shall have nothing to do with soldiers, good, bad, or indifferent."
So on the morrow when they met again the Marionette said:
"I have thought of quite a different sort of story to the one I told youyesterday."
"Thank you," said her little friend. "Please begin."
"Yes," she said as the little Marionette remained silent."Yes--yes--_do_ begin!"
"Patience, patience! I am just considering for a moment if I have thestory correct in every respect. It is now some time since it happened,and one's memory is apt to play one tricks when one is telling storiesof other people. But I think I remember it correctly. So I will beginwithout further delay the history of: 'The Little Dancer.'"
THE LITTLE DANCER
There never was a prettier dancer than the Little Dancer of the frizzydark hair, and the blue tulle dress with silver spangles.
Forward, backward, forward, backward went her little feet with rapid,dainty movement, whilst the small musical-box--on the top of which shegracefully danced--tinkled, tinkled, tinkled out its gay little tune,and all the Toys watched her with the greatest delight.
Truly she bewitched all who saw her, and gained much admiration. But shewas very modest, and not at all conceited, so that she was not onlyadmired but also loved; which, as you will agree, is far better.
She took life very easily and happily, till it happened one day that shesaw the Bicycle-man, and unfortunately fell in love with him as he wentby. He was a very handsome fellow, and made a good appearance upon hisbicycle.
Directly the Little Dancer saw him she loved him, and she lost no timein telling him so. She spoke without any hesitation.
"Dear heart, I love you," she said as she danced.
Now the Bicycle-man was very vain, and was therefore not a littlegratified at the impression he had made. But he pretended to be muchdispleased.
"You should not have said that until I had first said something of thesort," replied the Bicycle-man. "It was not your place to speak first.You are very forward."
And he rode on.
The Little Dancer was much distressed.
"He is angry," she said to her friend the Little China Doll next to her,with the two long flaxen pigtails hanging down her back.
"He is angry." And she danced more slowly and less gaily.
"What of
that?" said her friend, tossing her head. "It is of noconsequence."
"No; it is of no consequence," repeated the Little Dancer. But she feltunhappy.
The next day the Bicycle-man passed that way again, and she danced hervery best, hoping to win his heart.
"That is really not bad," he said; "not at all bad. You dance quitenicely, as dancing goes."
"Oh sweetheart, I love you!" she said, encouraged by his praise.
"I really cannot stand such remarks," said the Bicycle-man. "They makeme both angry and confused."
And he went on, leaving her in tears.
"Why do you trouble about him?" said the Little China Doll. "He is notworth it. A penny Toy, indeed! You turn his head. Take no more notice ofhim."
"I won't," replied the Little Dancer tearfully.
So the next time he stopped to watch her dancing she did not speak tohim.
"You are getting rude now," he said. "I am not sure whether that is notworse than being forward."
"What shall I say?" asked the Little Dancer. "My words do not pleaseyou."
"I should not be displeased if you were to say 'good-day'," he replied."It would only be polite, and I never find fault with politeness."
"Good-day," she said, as she practised her steps.
"Is that all?" he inquired.
"That is all," she answered.
"I have a bit of news for you," he said. "I am thinking of marrying thedoll to whom the Red House belongs. It is a comfortable house, wellbuilt, and well appointed. You shall come and have tea with us."
The Little Dancer burst into tears, and her feet moved more slowly.
"Why are you crying?" asked the Bicycle-man, with pretended surprise.
"Dear heart, Oh dear heart, I love you!" she wept.
"Well, well, so do many others," he answered. "It isn't my fault"
And mounting his bicycle he rode away.
"Don't you see you are making him terribly conceited?" said the LittleChina Doll. "It is absurd of you. Try to be more sensible."
"I love him so, I love him so!" sobbed the Little Dancer. "My heart isbroken."
On the morrow the Bicycle-man appeared as usual.
"It is all settled," he said. "I hope to marry the doll to whom the RedHouse belongs, before the week is out. I fear my marriage will be adisappointment to many a lady."
The Little Dancer made no reply: she was too heart-broken to utter asound.
"Are you not going to wish me happiness?" he asked.
But the Little Dancer still spoke not. She danced faster and faster asthe tears fell from her eyes.
The Bicycle-man did not notice how quickly her tears were falling.
"Your silence is a sad want of manners," he said. "Uncivility is farfrom attractive."
Still the little Dancer made no answer; she could not speak, she wascrying so bitterly.
"Well, good-day," he said. "It is very evident that you did not pay theextra twopence for manners."
Then he left.
"Stop dancing," said the Little China Doll to the Little Dancer. "Youare not in a fit state to dance. You will kill yourself."
"I _must_ dance till I forget, or till I die," she answered--sobbing.
And then she danced faster, _faster_, FASTER, till she went at quite afurious rate. Her little feet went to and fro so quickly you couldhardly see them.
The China Doll implored the poor Little Dancer to stop, but she did notheed her. She continued dancing, dancing, dancing all through the day,all through the evening, and far into the night. Till, at last,something within her went--_Snap_!
And she fell flat on the ground, and the gay little tune stoppedsuddenly. The clockwork within her had broken. She had danced herself todeath!
The next morning the Bicycle-man came again.
"The wedding is put off--" he began. Then he saw the lifeless form ofthe Little Dancer, and he turned pale.
"You have killed her by your vanity," said the China Doll severely. "Ifyou had stayed away she would have forgotten you. But you _would_ comebecause it pleased your conceit to hear her say she loved you, and tohear her lament because you did not love her. She has danced herself todeath in her despair. Alas! Alas! My poor friend!"
"I really believe I loved her after all," said the Bicycle-man in a sadvoice. "What can I say or do to make some slight amends? Tell me."
"There is nothing to be said or done," said the China Doll. "The poorLittle Dancer is dead. It is too late! Go and marry the Doll of the RedHouse."
"I don't want to _now_," he answered. "Henceforward my life shall bepassed mourning for the Little Dancer who broke her heart because of me.And from this time I shall ride my bicycle sitting with my back to thehandle, and with my hands behind me. It will be a most absurd position,but it will serve as a punishment to remind me of the sad end to whichmy vanity brought my poor little sweetheart."
And he strictly kept his resolve. At first the other Toys laughed: thenthey wondered; then they inquired into the meaning of so strange aperformance. And when they heard the story, such of them as had headsshook them, and all said gravely:
"'Tis well and nobly meant. But it won't mend the poor Little Dancer'sheart. Alas! Alack-a-day!"
CHAPTER VI
When the tale was ended the little girl took out her handkerchief andwiped her eyes.
"Come, this won't do," said the little Marionette. "I should not havetold you the story if I had thought you were going to take it so much toheart."
"I am very sorry for the poor Little Dancer," she replied sadly; "I wishthat the Bicycle-man had not been so unkind."
"Well, well, it is all over now. Wipe your eyes; you can't do any goodby crying, and I don't like seeing tears," said her friend.
"Never mind; I rather like feeling sad," Molly answered politely, thoughtearfully.
"Still, a little sadness goes a long way," remarked the Marionette."There is no doubt of that. I think I had better tell you something toamuse you now." She thought a moment and then she laughed.
"What are you laughing at?" asked the little girl with curiosity.
"At the remembrance of the Hansom-driver," she answered. "I never canthink of him without laughing. Shall I tell you his story? I shall havetime to do so this evening, for it is short, like the one I have justfinished." And she began the story of: "The Hansom-driver."
THE HANSOM DRIVER
The Hansom-driver was indeed very plain, but he fancied himself verybeautiful. 'Tis thus that we are liable to make errors of judgment;especially respecting ourselves.
His cheeks were crimson and his nose was the same hue, yet he was quiteconvinced that all the young lady dolls envied him his complexion. Hiseyes were dull as lead, but in his boundless conceit he always comparedthem to sparkling diamonds.
In a word, his appearance was terribly against him, yet his constantcomplaint was that he attracted so much attention, and won so muchadmiration wherever he went, that he could almost find it in his heartto wish he had been born ugly.
His own looks were his constant topic of conversation, till at lengththe other Toys quaked when he opened his mouth, knowing very well howthey were going to suffer.
Amongst those who suffered the most from his talk were the Butcher, theBaker, and the Clown. They lived at the opposite side of the counter,where he drove every morning to give his orders for bread and meat. Henever thought of driving away at once when he had done this, but alwaysstopped to make remarks upon his own appearance; till at length, incommon with the rest of the world, they became wearied to death of thesubject. The Butcher and Baker tried to put a stop to it by makinguncivil remarks, and the clown by making rude jests. But the conceit ofthe Hansom-driver still remained.
One day when he was talking to his three acquaintances, the Butcherhappened to remark on the beauty of the sunset-glow the previousevening.
"Some people," said the Hansom-driver at once, "admire the beautifulglow of the sunset sky, some the beautiful glow of the healthycountenance. By the by, a chap
I met yesterday told me my face wassimply glowing with health."
"Especially your nose, my pretty fellow," remarked the Clown.
"From my brow to my chin, I am, I believe, suffused with the glow of apretty color," replied the Hansom-driver. "Naturally it does not skip mynose. And very glad I am it does not; I should not like any feature tofeel neglected or left out in the cold."
"He becomes quite unbearable," whispered one lady doll to another.
"Quite," she replied in the same tone.
The Hansom-driver smiled as he saw them whisper. He did not doubt butthat they were making some flattering remarks about himself.
"Speak out, ladies," he said.
But they turned away in silent anger.
Most people would have been annoyed at this behavior. Not so theHansom-driver. In his great vanity he completely misread their silence.
"A compliment about me," he laughed. "Doubtless too great a one to besaid aloud."
"You needn't fancy _that_," said the Butcher rudely. "You hear a goodmany compliments, I don't deny, but they all come from the samesource--your own block of a head. When you are absent you get fewenough, that I know for a positive fact."
"Not that there is anything surprising in it," the Baker said to theHansom-driver in quite as rude a manner as the Butcher. "I am not yetaware that you are a subject for compliments."
Adventures in Toyland; What the Marionette Told Molly Page 4