Dick, Marjorie and Fidge: A Search for the Wonderful Dodo
"All right," said the Sage, "this is a lot of birds' tales all tied up
together, and is called a fable----"
"Is it one of AEsop's?" asked Dick, who thought that it would look grand
for him to have heard of AEsop's fables.
"No, it isn't," said the Sage, rather crossly; "it's one of my own! Now
then, are you ready? I call it--"
"THE GOSSIPING GOOSE."
"A Crested Grebe, a Spoonbill, and a Goose,
I beg to say,
Met one fine day,
And compliments were passed the most profuse.
'How very well you look, my dear,' said one,
'That shade of red
Upon your head,
So sweet; and how _delightfully_ your hair is done.'
And each had gratifying things to say,
With gushing smile,
Upon the style
Of all the others' holiday array.
Then Mrs. Goose, with most superior sneer,
Said, 'Have you seen
That dress of green
That Mrs. Peacock's wearing now, my dear?
'She looks a perfect guy, and then--her feet
And legs! Oh, lor!
I never saw
A bird so clumsy, or so indiscreet.
'I met her at the Concert Hall last week,
A poor affair,
I do declare,
I wonder that the Songsters have such cheek.
'Miss Nightingale was singing far too loud;
I never heard
So harsh a bird,
I wonder how she dared to face the crowd.
'Miss Thrush had quite a decent voice, I hear,
Some years ago
(A score or so),
But now her voice is giving way, I fear.
'She sang as badly as did Mrs. Lark,
Who all agreed,
Had every need
Of lessons, to bring _her_ up to the mark.
'Miss Linnet had a really dreadful cough.
As for the rest,
They quite distressed
The company. Well, good-by, dears. I'm off.'
And, while the Spoonbill and the other bird
Went on their way,
I heard one say,
'That Mrs. Goose is really most absurd.
'She talks about the Peacock's gaudy dress:
If she prefers
That gray of hers,
I don't admire her taste, I must confess.
'And as for legs and feet--well, I declare,
The pair she's got
Are really not
The kind that I'd be seen with anywhere.
'While as for singing, that _she_ should complain
Of other folk
Is past a joke,
I vow I'll not be friends with her again.'
'My dear,' the other said, 'remember this:
A critic she
Of high degree,
For though she can't sing well, the goose can _hiss_.'"
The Sage had scarcely finished when a sound of weeping and wailing was
heard, and presently a whole troop of gnomes appeared in the onion
field. They were crying bitterly, and to the children's great surprise
several of them had grown enormously tall and others equally stout.
They came straight up to the Sage's hut, and with tears streaming down
their faces beseeched him to help them. They had foolishly been making
use of the authority which the Little Panjandrum's Ambassador had given
to the children; and although it acted one way, and made them the size
that they wished to be, it would not turn them back again.
"And my wife and family refuse to have anything to do with me," said one
ridiculously tall individual.
"And I can't squeeze into my own house, anyhow," wept the stout one.
"The only way," said the Sage, after a moment's thought, with his
forehead wrinkled into deep furrows, "is to send the Ki-Wi to the Court
of the Little Panjandrum for a fresh authority. It's no use your having
this one back if it won't act properly, is it?" he inquired, turning to
the children.
"Certainly not," said Dick; "but who is the Ki-Wi, please?"
"Oh, he's the Court Messenger," explained the Sage, "and is the only one
here allowed to enter the Court of the Little Panjandrum without
permission."
"Go and fetch him," he continued.
And the gnomes disappeared, returning presently with the Ki-Wi (who
turned out to be a curious kind of bird), and the written authority,
which had been taken from the children.
"Let me look at it," said the Sage, holding out his hand for the paper.
"Why, no wonder it won't act for the gnomes," he exclaimed, when he had
read it.
"It mentions you all by name--just try it yourselves, will you?"
Dick took the paper from him, and said loudly, "We wish to be our own
size again."
To their great delight the children at once found themselves their usual
height, and the onions, which had looked before like huge trees, now
only reached a little above their heads, while the Sage and the other
gnomes looked the tiniest little creatures again.
"This is better," said Dick, shaking himself as though he had come out
of the water.
"Yes, isn't it good to be ourselves once more," said Marjorie.
While Fidge jumped about delightedly, breaking down several of the onion
plants, and almost treading on the Sage's hut.
"Don't caper about like a lot of lunatics," shouted the little man,
angrily. "Come and sit down and talk business. The Ki-Wi has something
to tell you."
All excitement to know what it could be, the children sat down again,
and the Ki-Wi after fumbling about in his coat tail for some time,
produced a large document and began to read.
CHAPTER V.
THE KING OF THE FISHES.
"Um--ah--that is to say--er--notwithstanding, nevertheless, likewise
also, and as is herein aforesaid," began the Ki-Wi, in an important
voice.
"Hold on!" cried Dick. "We can't understand all that, you know. Why
don't you say what you have to say in English?"
"It is English," declared the Ki-Wi, in an aggrieved voice, "and very
good English too."
"Of course it is," chimed in the Sage.
"Well we don't understand it, anyhow," maintained Dick. "It doesn't seem
to mean anything at all."
"Perhaps, Dick, dear," said Marjorie, "Mr. Sage will explain it to us.
Let's see--it began----"
"'Notwithstanding, nevertheless, likewise, and as is herein aforesaid,'"
repeated the Ki-Wi.
"Well, I'll explain it, if you wish with pleasure," said the Sage,
"though I can't see in the least why it should be necessary. It seems to
me to perfectly simple. To begin with--'Notwithstanding' describes our
position just now--Not-with-standing, or _not standing with_ the Ki-Wi.
He is standing, while we are sitting down, you see; then 'nevertheless'
means of course the same as _always-the-greater_, which exactly
describes me. You see, my great learning and cleverness always makes me
greater than the people I am speaking to, and consequently
_never-the-less_. The next word is also descriptive of myself.
'Likewise,' or _like a wise man_, which, I am sure, you will all agree
that I am; and 'herein' means that my brains are all _in here_," said
the Sage, tapping his head. "While 'aforesaid'--the last word--means
that I have a strong head, or a _force-head_, do you see?"
"Is the rest of the paper all about yourself, too, Sir?" asked Marjorie.
"Yes," was the complacent reply. "Go on, Ki-Wi."
"I'm afraid we can't stop," interrupted Dick.
"You see, we have got to hunt up that wretched Dodo, and perhaps we had
better be going now."
"Yes, we must be going now," chimed in Fidge, jumping up eagerly, for
all this rigmarole had been very uninteresting to him.
"Oh, I'm sorry you can't stay," said the Sage, in a disappointed voice.
"I could have told you such a lot more about myself. You do think I'm
clever though, don't you?" he asked, anxiously.
"Oh, immensely!" said the children, politely.
"Thanks!" said the Sage. "Will you take a few onions with you as a
memento of your visit?"
"No thank you," said Marjorie, hurriedly.
"They would remind you of me," suggested the Sage, wistfully; "Sage and
onions you know."
"No, thanks," said Dick, "I'm sure we shall remember you without."
"Now that's _very_ kind of you," said the Sage, "and I'll do the best I
can to help you in your search for the Dodo. Let's see, where did he say
he was going to?"
"The Equator," said Dick; "but I'm sure we can't go all that way after
him, and get back in a week."
"You could if you went by sea," said the Sage.
"What do you mean?" asked Dick.
"Why, I could give you an introduction to the King of the Fishes, you
know, and he _might_ lend you his dolphins; they travel at a rare pace,
and would get you there in no time."
"Oh, yes," cried Marjorie, "of course we _can_ go under the sea, don't
you know, the paper says so. Wouldn't it be jolly, even if we didn't
find the Dodo?"
"Don't want to be drownded, and get all deaded," objected Fidge.
"You wouldn't be, dear," said Marjorie. "Brother Dick wouldn't take us
anywhere where we should come to any harm."
"How should we get there, I wonder?" asked Dick, thoughtfully.
"I'll show you--come along," said the Sage, getting up and leading the
way.
The children followed, and the little gnomes, now all reduced to their
proper size, came trooping along after them.
Presently they reached the edge of the cliff, and the sea, sparkling in
the sunlight, lay at their feet some distance below.
The Sage, hastily scribbling a note with a piece of pencil, thrust it
into Dick's hand, and crying, "This is the quickest way!" deliberately
pushed the children, one after the other, over the cliff.
Before they had time to realize what had happened, or to become in the
least alarmed, they found themselves slowly and comfortably sinking
through the air; while a shriek of laughter from the gnomes caused them
to look up to the edge of the cliffs, where they beheld all the little
fellows leaning over and waving their pocket-handkerchiefs, while the
Sage and the Ki-Wi stood in their midst.
"Oh!" cried Marjorie, as they descended, "isn't it fortunate we have the
power to float in the air; it would have been an awful plunge otherwise,
wouldn't it?"
"Yes," agreed Dick, reaching out his hand to Fidge, who looked just a
little wee bit frightened. "I wonder what it will be like on the sea."
He had not to speculate long, however, for almost at that moment their
feet touched the water, and they sank down, down, down through the clear
green depths.
"Oh, look!" cried Fidge, excitedly. "Fishes! Fishes!" and he started off
swimming after them quite naturally.
"One's got a hat on," he called out. "Look! look! there's another; oh,
let's catch them!"
"If you don't behave yourself you'll be locked up," said a severe voice,
and, turning around, the children beheld a very stern-looking fish,
wearing a helmet, and carrying a truncheon.
"Now then, move on; don't obstruct the traffic!" he cried, angrily; and
the children swimming off as hastily as they could, mentally put him
down as a kind of sea policeman.
"You certainly mustn't try and catch any of the fishes, Fidge, or you
will be getting us all into trouble," said Dick. And Fidge, overawed by
the policeman fish, became quiet subdued, and contented himself with a
quiet "Look! look!" when they passed anything particularly strange or
interesting.
They had very nearly reached the bottom of the sea, when they noticed a
singular-looking object floating some distance in front of them.
"It looks like a chair!" declared Marjorie. "Why, I believe," she
continued, as they drew nearer, "that it's the very one the Dodo was
floating upon when we saw him last."
"So it is!" cried Dick; "and look, there's a note on it--perhaps it's
for us."
They swam towards it as quickly as they could, and had just reached the