Dick, Marjorie and Fidge: A Search for the Wonderful Dodo
So, without further ado--the Doctor having made up his prescription,
consisting of a large bottle of "bull's eyes," one to be taken every
quarter of an hour--they hurried to the station, at the door of which a
most energetic porter was ringing a huge bell.
CHAPTER XVII.
WAITING FOR THE TRAIN.
They found, on reaching the station, which was a very primitive affair
with a thatched roof, that the booking-office was closed.
"Clerk be goned away for 'ees 'oliday," explained the Porter, with a
grin.
"Then whatever are we going to do about tickets?" asked Marjorie,
anxiously, for the trip to the Crystal Palace seemed to afford such an
excellent opportunity of getting home again that she was anxious not to
miss it.
"He may be back before the train comes in," said the Archaeopteryx;
"there doesn't seem to be one in sight, and we often have to wait weeks
and weeks for a train here, you know."
"But what was he ringing the bell for, then?" inquired Dick, "if the
train isn't coming in."
"I seed some smoke awhile ago, over yonder," said the Porter, "and I
thought maybe 'tmight be th' train, but like as not it isn't."
"Then we have had this long run for nothing," complained the Dodo,
breathlessly.
"Calm yourself, my dear Sir," said the Doctor, patting him on the back;
"excitement of any kind is very bad for you. We will wait here quietly
till the train does come."
"But isn't there a time-table?" asked Dick, "so that we can tell when to
expect it."
"No, Sir," said the Porter. "There was a time-table when I fust come
here, nine years ago; but it got lost somehow, and we've never had
another."
By this time the platform was crowded with a number of other animals,
who had apparently come to join the excursion.
"We had better get our tents before they are all gone," whispered the
Palaeotherium.
"Ah, yes, of course," said the Eteraedarium. "Er--Porter, just bring us
some tents, will you?"
"Tents?" exclaimed the children.
"Yes; if we are to stay here till the train starts we shall find it very
awkward at night without tents, you know."
"Oh, yes, tents by all means," said the Archaeopteryx. "I think five will
be sufficient," he added.
The Porter grumbled a little, and then brought forth from somewhere a
number of poles and some canvas tents, and these the creatures began
solemnly to erect on various parts of the platform.
The Dodo excused himself from assisting, on the plea that he might soil
his gloves, and contented himself with fussing about and giving
directions in a loud voice.
While the tents were being erected, the children amused themselves by
exploring their surroundings.
"Oh! there's a refreshment room!" exclaimed Marjorie, pointing to a hole
in the wall, on the ledge of which were displayed a few doubtful-looking
articles.
"Shall I join you in a little light repast?" said an insinuating voice
behind them, and turning around, they beheld the Dodo smoothing his
glove and smirking ingratiatingly.
Dick felt in his pocket, and was delighted to find that he had a
two-shilling-piece tucked away in a corner.
"Yes, we might as well have something," he said, generously. "I wonder
who attends to this department? There doesn't seem to be anybody about."
He knocked at the wall with his two-shilling-piece, and, suddenly, an
elderly lady, with a very sharp face and a shrill voice, popped her head
up and exclaimed, "Well! what do _you_ want?"
Dick was startled by her sudden appearance, and stammered a little.
"Er--er--a----" he began.
"A glass bun and a bath of milk, please," prompted the Dodo.
"No; he means a bath bun and a glass of milk," laughed Marjorie, smiling
up at the lady's face.
There was no smile in response, however, and she replied, crossly, "Why
doesn't he say what he means, then? We've no bath buns, and no milk,"
she went on. "There's a currant bun, a box of chocolates, and a bottle
of gingerbeer. You can take them or leave them, whichever you like."
"Er--how much is the bun, please?" inquired Dick.
"Shilling," snapped the waitress.
"Dear me! that's rather expensive, isn't it?" said Dick, regarding his
two-shilling-piece ruefully. "And I'm afraid it looks a little stale,
too."
"Well, I never!" said the waitress, tossing her head scornfully, and
shaking back her little corkscrew curls. "What next, I wonder? That bun
has been here on and off for seventeen years, and I never had a
complaint about it before. Stale, indeed!" And she sniffed scornfully.
"Perhaps we had better try the chocolate," suggested Marjorie. "Can you
tell us, please, how many pieces there are in the box?" she asked.
"No, I can't!" was the ungracious reply. "It's half-a-crown," she added.
That, of course, put it out of the question, and as the gingerbeer
bottle turned out to be empty, the contents having evaporated some years
since, the children were obliged to turn, somewhat disconsolately, away
from the "refreshment room," and as they left they heard the waitress
complaining, crossly--
"I can't think what people want to come bothering for refreshments for,
when I am busy reading; some folks have _no_ consideration for others."
And she disappeared as mysteriously as she had arrived.
A little further down the platform, to their great delight, they
discovered an automatic machine, but were greatly disappointed to find
that it only professed to supply "furniture polish," "tin tacks," and
"postage stamps."
"And as we have no post-office here at all," said the Archaeopteryx, who
had by this time joined them, "the stamps are of no use whatever.
Fortunately," he went on, "the Palaeotherium brought some banana
sandwiches in his carpet bag; so, if you come back with me to his tent,
we can have a little supper before we go to bed."
The children very gratefully accepted the invitation, and were delighted
on entering the tent to find that the Eteraedarium and the Palaeotherium
had arranged quite a dainty little repast with the sandwiches, some
fresh fruit, and cocoanut milk, which was served in the shell.
While the feast was progressing it began to grow quite dark, and the
Dodo suggested asking the Porter for a light.
"There's only one candle," grumbled that individual, "and I be obligated
to use that for the signal."
So there was nothing to be done but to hurry over the supper as soon as
possible, and go to rest.
Marjorie and Fidge shared a little tent next to the Dodo and Dick, and
the children made themselves as comfortable as they could, under the
circumstances, with some cushions and rugs, with which the Porter had
provided them; and, after chatting for a little while about their
strange adventures, dropped off to sleep.
They were awakened after an hour or two by the clanging of a huge bell,
and, hastily putting their heads out of the tent, beheld the Porter
rushing up and down the platform, ringing his bell violently. The candle
was flaring away at the top of the signal pole, and the children jumped
to the conclusion that the train had been signaled.
"What's up!" called out Dick, as the Porter approached.
There was no answer, and the great bell was plied more vigorously than
ever.
"Oh! _do_ leave off!" screamed the Dodo. "What's the bell for?"
"To keep you awake," shouted the Porter. "I shall keep on ringing this
bell all night to prevent you from going to sleep, in case the train
comes in and you don't hear it."
"But the noise will drive us mad," expostulated the Dodo.
"H'm! won't have far to drive you, then," said the Porter, rudely.
"Howsomedever, I'm going to do my duty, whatever happens, and this 'ere
bell I'm going to ring if I drops."
Remonstrance was vain, and as it was hopeless to try and sleep through
all the noise the children got up again, and had hardly done so, when,
looking towards the end of the platform they beheld a red and a green
light appearing around the curve, and a moment later the train dashed
into the station.
"Crystal Palace train! Crystal Palace train! Take your seats, there!"
shouted the Guard; and, regardless of the fact that they had no tickets,
the children and their friends scrambled in.
CHAPTER XVIII.
A NIGHT IN THE TRAIN.
"What a funny puff-puff!" exclaimed Fidge, when, all of the creatures on
the platform having entered the train, it slowly steamed out of the
station, while the Porter took down the candlestick signal and carefully
extinguished the light, remarking aloud, as he did so, "Well, thank
goodness, _they're_ gone!"
"I think," said Dick, looking about him curiously, "that it must be what
is called a sleeping car."
"Yes, of course it is," agreed the Prehistoric Doctor, who had joined
the party. "See, here are the sleeping bunks. This is mine," he added,
taking possession of one of the lower berths by throwing his carpet bag
on to it.
"I'll have the one above it," announced the Palaeotherium, climbing up to
the upper berth, and clumsily treading on the Prehistoric Doctor's hand
as he did so.
"I shall have to be near my Doctor, of course, as I am an invalid,"
remarked the Dodo, plaintively, "so shall take the lower berth next to
him."
And thus each of the creatures took up their respective positions, and
the children thought it best to follow their example. Dick and Fidge
climbed up to one of the upper berths, and Marjorie made herself
comfortable in the one below them.
"It's much better than being in those horrid little tents on the
draughty station," she called out; "and we are sure to get to
_somewhere_ in this train, aren't we, Dick?"
"Yes, rather," was her elder brother's reply. "I say, Sis, what are we
going to do when they ask us for our tickets at the Crystal Palace? I
haven't got any money except this two shillings, have you?"
"Not a penny," admitted Marjorie. "However," she added, yawning
sleepily, "I suppose it will all come right; none of the other creatures
took tickets, you know. The great thing is to get back to England."
"There's a window up here, and I have just looked out," said Dick, "it's
all pitch dark."
"Yes," murmured Marjorie; "Underground Railway to Crystal Palace; that's
how we went last time, you know--part of the way, at any rate--let's go
to sleep now. Good-night, Dick."
"Good-night."
"Nighty, nighty!" shouted Fidge.
"Good-night, Fidge, dear," was his sister's reply, in a very tired
voice.
A moment afterwards the train gave a lurch, and there was a crash and a
loud cry from one of the lower berths.
Dick hastily scrambled down to ascertain what was the matter, and found
that the Dodo had tumbled out of bed.
"Bless my gloves and beak!" ejaculated the bird, as he picked himself
up; "it's enough to frighten one out of their lives, isn't it?"
"Have you hurt yourself much?" inquired Dick, kindly.
"No; I don't think so," said the Dodo, carefully feeling himself all
over to see if any bones were broken.
"How do you like my nightcap?" he inquired, suddenly and inconsequently.
"Does it suit me?"
"Oh, it's all right, I suppose," said Dick, laughing in spite of himself
at the bird's vanity. "Where did you get it?"
"Found it under my pillow," announced the bird, triumphantly. "That's
why I tumbled out of bed, so that some one at any rate, should come and
see me in it. Nobody else seems to be coming, though," he added, looking
anxiously up and down, "so I shall go to bed again; but I shall leave my
curtains wide open, so that if anybody passes by during the night, or in
the morning, they will see how beautiful I am when I am asleep."
At that moment there was an awful noise like a deep groan, which grew