Dick, Marjorie and Fidge: A Search for the Wonderful Dodo
"I do believe they are Brownies, or else Gnomes!" declared Marjorie, who
had read a great many fairy stories.
"Nonsense!" said Dick, with a superior air; "there are no such things
now-a-days."
"Who says so?" shrieked the little people from the cave. "Come up here,
and we'll soon show you."
"Oh, yes, do!" cried Marjorie, clapping her hands; "I should love to see
them."
"I don't see how we are going to get up there," said Dick, dubiously;
"we haven't got a ladder."
"We have one," shouted the little people. "Shall we let it down?"
"Oh, yes, please," clamored Marjorie, and immediately afterwards a rope
ladder was let down, and one or two of the little men hung over the
ledge to steady it.
"Come along," cried Marjorie, leading the way, while Fidge followed
next, repeating over and over, with a delighted chuckle, "We
are going to see the Pan--jan--de--lum! We are going to see the
Pan--jan--de--lum!"
CHAPTER II.
THE AMBASSADOR EXTRAORDINARY.
At the top of the ladder the children found themselves in the midst of a
crowd of curious little pigmies, dressed in all sorts of quaint and
fantastic costumes.
They were the oddest little creatures that you can possibly imagine,
with eyes and ears that seemed to be too big for their heads, and tiny
little spindle legs that looked quite incapable of supporting their big
bodies.
They spoke in a shrill, clear, bell-like voice, which, although they
were such tiny creatures, could be heard distinctly.
"So you don't believe in fairies, eh!" they cried, clustering about the
children.
"I do," declared Marjorie, stoutly.
"Yes, and me do, too," said Fidge, looking about him delightedly.
"But," objected Dick, "I've always been told that fairies, and elves,
and gnomes, and things of that sort were merely myths, and existed only
in the imagination of story-tellers."
"He--he--he," giggled the little people. "The same old story. They told
you that to hide their ignorance, my child."
"I'm thirteen years old," declared Dick, haughtily, for he did not at
all approve of being called a child.
"Oh, are you indeed!" was the reply, amid shouts of laughter. "I suppose
you think yourself quite a man, and are consequently too old to believe
in the fairies, who are more than thirteen thousand years old."
"You know you used to believe in them, Dick," interposed Marjorie.
"Don't you remember how we used to enjoy that lovely fairy book Aunt May
gave us, and dear old 'Alice in Wonderland,' and----"
"That was years ago," interrupted Dick, turning very red. "I've had it
all explained to me since that, and I don't read those kind of books
now."
"Do you read Shakespeare?" demanded one of the little folks.
"Some of it," replied Dick, doubtfully.
"Have you ever read 'Midsummer Night's Dream?'"
"Oh, yes! Jolly! Titania, and Oberon, and Puck, and all that lot, you
know; and the jolly little chaps that----"
"Hullo! I thought you didn't believe in fairies," interrupted some one.
"Oh, well, that's different, you know; that's Shakespeare, and--and----"
"And what? I suppose you'll admit that he believed in them?"
"Well, I suppose so," said Dick, grudgingly; "but I----"
"But you imagine yourself to be cleverer than Shakespeare."
"Ha--ha--ha!" laughed a chorus of little people, derisively.
"Look here! I'll tell you what it is," said the first speaker, "you have
evidently been taught by some of those wise old know-nothings, who have
succeeded in making you as clever as themselves, and it is our intention
to show you how ignorant you all are. I think you will believe in
fairies before we have done with you. Now, we are gnomes, and have just
completed a subterranean passage between here and the land of the little
Panjandrum."
The word _little_ was spoken so softly as to be quite indistinct. "The
what!" cried Dick.
"Sh! the _little_ Panjandrum," said the gnome, speaking the word almost
inaudibly.
"What do you say it like that for?" asked the children.
"Well, you see, his Magnificence and Serene Importance is somewhat
sensitive on the subject; there is the GRAND Panjandrum, you know."
"Oh, I see," said Dick, "and the other chap doesn't like to take a back
seat, that's it, is it? Well, who is the Little Panjandrum, anyhow?"
"Sh! sh!" cried the gnomes, looking about them nervously. "You really
mustn't say _little_ as loudly as that. Supposing any one heard you?"
"Well, what if they did?" asked Dick.
"O! His Serene Importance would be terribly angry, and perhaps
would----"
What the conclusion of the sentence was to have been the children never
knew, for at that moment there was a loud clattering noise in the
passage leading from the cave, and a moment afterwards four
extraordinary figures came in sight.
They were mounted upon ostriches, and one of them, more richly
caparisoned than the others, had a kind of canopy attached to his
trappings, beneath which sat a stern-faced little man with an elaborate
turban and head-dress. He wore also a very curious collar, from which
depended a large gold ornament of curious design. He carried in one hand
a long pipe, and with the other guided his strange steed.
The others of the party, who were evidently his attendants, each carried
a banner emblazoned with mysterious signs and characters.
The silver bells attached to the head of the ostrich, and on the top of
the canopy over the grandee, tinkled merrily as he came forward.
"In the name of the little Panjandrum," he shouted, in a loud voice, and
immediately all the gnomes bowed respectfully almost down to the ground.
"His Serene Importance and Most Magnificent Greatness is grievously
distressed."
The gnomes all brought forth little pocket-handkerchiefs, and began to
cry.
"The Dodo presented to His Worshipful Gorgeousness by the Grand
Panjandrum himself has escaped!"
The gnomes all threw up their hands in dismay.
"Why, we saw it," cried Marjorie, excitedly. "Didn't we, Dick?"
The little man on the ostrich turned around sharply, and after staring
at the children for a moment, shouted--
"Who are you?"
"I am Dick Verrinder, sir, and this is my sister Marjorie, and our
little brother Fidge," said Dick politely. "We are spending our summer
holiday at Mrs. Lawrence's cottage on the other side of the cliff. The
tide rose very high this morning, and we----"
"Don't tell me all that nonsense. What do you know about the Dodo?" said
the little man, impatiently.
"Why, we met it floating about on a chair, and it told us that it was
going to the Equator to meet a--a--er--a----"
"Well?"
"It was something with a very long name," stammered Dick; "I can't quite
remember what."
"Look here," said the little man, bending forward excitedly, "that story
won't do for me. I am the Ambassador Extraordinary of his Magnificence
the little Panjandrum, and you tell me that you have seen the Dodo; that
is enough. Now then! Where is it? It's no use telling me that it has
gone off to keep an appointment with something with a long name. I say,
where is the bird? If you don't instantly produce that Dodo I shall take
you before the Court of Inquisitives, and let them deal with you."
"But I tell you," began Dick, while Marjorie clung to his arm in
affright, and Fidge scowled angrily at hearing his idolized big brother
spoken to in this peremptory manner, "I tell you that we only saw it for
a----"
"That's quite enough. Don't argue the point. I shall give you one week
from now, and if at the end of that time you do not appear at the Palace
of the little Panjandrum with the Dodo, I shall apply to the Grand
Panjandrum himself to have you subtransexdistricated, so there!"
"But----"
"Not another word. Ink! Paper! Pens!" he commanded, getting off his
ostrich and squatting down before a flat stone, while the little gnomes
ran hither and thither, getting in each other's way, and tripping and
stumbling about in all directions in their eagerness to do the
Ambassador's bidding.
"Sit down!" he ordered, and the children sat down on the ground in front
of him. There was a slight difficulty about the ink at this point, for
the gnomes, not being quite strong enough to carry the inkstand, turned
it over on its side to roll it forward, and of course spilled all the
ink. They managed, however, to gather up some of it in their caps, and
so kept the Ambassador supplied.
"Now then! Know all men by these presents," he began, writing the words
down as he spake them.
"He's going to give us some presents," whispered Fidge, giving Dick a
nudge. Dick shook his head reprovingly, and the little man continued--
"That whereas three children, named respectively--what did you say your
name was?"
"Richard Greville Verrinder, Sir."
"Richard Greville Verrinder, and--what's your sister's name?"
"Marjorie Evelyn Verrinder."
"Marjorie Evelyn Verrinder, and----"
"Harold Ellis Verrinder," prompted Dick.
"Who's that?" inquired the Ambassador, sharply.
"My little brother," was the reply.
"You said his name was Fidge."
"Oh, yes, but that's his nickname, you know."
"I don't know anything of the sort. Now then, just keep quiet while I
finish this document. There," he continued, when he had finished writing
some mysterious-looking words on the paper, and had attached two
enormous red seals to it--"that's your warrant for arresting the Dodo,
when you have found him; and it is also an authority from the little
Panjandrum for you at any time to become any size that you wish; to
float through the air at will; and to live under water if necessary. So
you have everything in your favor, and I shall expect the Dodo back in
less than a week. Do you hear? Now I'm off."
The little man mounted his ostrich, and without saying a word more to
any one, he and his followers rode off in the direction from whence they
had come.
"Well, I never!" said Dick, picking up the scrawl which had fallen at
his feet. "Here's a go! We've got to find that beastly old Dodo in less
than a week, or be--what was it?"
"I don't know," said Marjorie, dolefully, "it was something very long,
and sounded dreadful."
"But what's that he said about our being able to be any size that we
wished? I'm sure I wish I was as tall as father."
"Me, too," said Fidge, emphatically.
"And I should love to float about in the air, I'm sure!" declared
Marjorie.
The words were scarcely out of her mouth when she felt herself wafted
gently off her feet, while at the same moment Dick, to Fidge's intense
surprise, suddenly shot up to the height of over six feet, and looked so
very ridiculous, that all three of them burst out into an uncontrollable
fit of laughter.
CHAPTER III.
THE SAGE IN THE ONION FIELD.
"How absurd," laughed Dick, as he looked down from the--to him--enormous
height of six feet. "What a thin, lanky-looking creature, I am, to be
sure--and Fidge, too; he looks perfectly ridiculous"--for Fidge, also,
was growing amazingly.
"How did it happen, Dick, dear?" asked Marjorie, in an awe-stricken
voice. "It seems so funny to be up here in the air, and yet I don't feel
in the least frightened, do you?"
"Of course not," said Dick, contemptuously. "Why, we just said we wished
to be as tall as the Pater, you know, and it happened."
"Oh, yes; and I said I should like to float in the air. I suppose we can
always do what we want to now--how lovely! Like the 'Arabian Nights,'
isn't it?"
"I don't want to be thin, like a walking-stick," said Fidge, in a
dissatisfied voice.