CHAPTER II

Smaly installs himself upon one of the Kangaroo's paws: The two little people see some of the inhabitants of this peculiar country: They meet some sugar horses, and they see also a fish which flies and some sponges which walk: The Wigs imagine that Smaly is made of suet: The ebony and crystal spectacles: The Mother of the Crow.

Smaly saw that there was no reason to be afraid of this strange creature so he crawled in through the grille of the gate and sat down upon one of the Confectioner's enormous paws. Redy made haste to follow him. No sooner was she settled than a number of strange little beings appeared as though from nowhere and cl.u.s.tered around her, pointing curious fingers at her while they chatted amongst themselves.

These little beings were the inhabitants of this strange new country.

They nearly all wore gigantic wigs, and sometimes these wigs were so long that they needed a page to carry the last curl as though it were the end of a train.

The more Redy looked at these funny little people the greater was the amazement that appeared upon her face.

Smaly also was astonished; but he would have died sooner than let his astonishment appear.

[Ill.u.s.tration: TO CARRY THE LAST CURL AS THOUGH IT WERE THE END OF A TRAIN]

These curious little beings, who were known as the "Wigs" because of their large perukes, were even smaller than Redy and Smaly. At first sight they looked rather like those stiff little coloured figures you may see in Egyptian drawings at the British Museum, but no Egyptians were ever dressed as these people were. Their vividly coloured clothes were composed of mosaics of caramel and jam, with insertions of fruit and cake. Each one wore on his head a hat made of preserved fruit or of a whole bun or little cake. Shoes seemed to be very much a matter of individual taste in this land, for every inhabitant wore a pair of a different colour, shoes so gay that the mere sight of them made one want to dance. There was one woman in particular who wore upon her head a cake in the form of a little tower, who had the most charming mauve shoes with red soles, upon which Redy felt her eyes always returning enviously.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE CITY CURIOUS]

The Wigs for their part had not gathered together merely to look at the little strangers. With brightly coloured sponges some began to mop up the dew which still clung to the leaves of the hedge, while others with little pieces of blotting-paper set to work to dry each blade of gra.s.s at the side of the road. This seemed such a useless thing to do that Smaly would have liked to ask why they were doing it, but he felt too shy, so he contented himself with winking at Redy. Then he glanced up at the Confectioner.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THEY MADE ONE WANT TO DANCE]

"Tell me--why has Redy got a beak?" he asked, and before he could be answered began to suck his finger. He sucked it because a drop of sweet preserve had fallen upon it from one of the Confectioner's pots.

"Has Redy got wings as well?" asked the Confectioner, thoughtfully taking a spoonful of the same preserve and offering it to Redy.

"No," said Smaly.

"Then she can't have a beak," replied the Confectioner triumphantly.

"Do you mean to say you don't see her beak or mine either?" asked Smaly in astonishment.

"Never in my life have I seen a beak upon any creature that had not wings as well," replied the Confectioner stolidly; "therefore it doesn't exist."

"A beak, a beak, a beak, not exist, not exist, not exist," said all the echoes one after the other.

Smaly decided to wait until the Confectioner spoke again; but it was Redy who broke the silence in an unexpected manner.

She walked away from the Confectioner and stood looking at him scornfully from a little distance.

"An architect!" she said. "You say you are an architect, but when we called 'Reckybecky' you opened the door, therefore you are Reckybecky, nothing but Reckybecky."

The Confectioner, who was a simple soul, stared at her very disconcerted. "Reckybecky," he repeated in a sort of stupefaction.

"Reckybecky, am I really nothing but that?"

"You are Reckybecky," repeated Redy firmly.

"Dear me, I never heard that before," said the Confectioner. "I wonder if you can be right. Then if I am Reckybecky I suppose I am not an architect at all," and he covered his face to try and think more clearly.

The two little people watched him timidly, wondering what was going on in that bent head. Suddenly the Confectioner raised his head and flung his pots and pans, his spoons and his knives, on to the ground on either side of him.

Most of the pots broke and fragrant streams of beautifully coloured preserves spread here and there over the uneven ground. Immediately dozens of Wigs pounced upon the wreckage, and while the jams trickled hither and thither amongst the gra.s.s these creatures tried to sc.r.a.pe it up again into jugs and basins, and even into their caps, with the spoon which every Wig carries hung from his belt.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WITH THE SPOON WHICH EVERY WIG CARRIES HUNG FROM HIS BELT]

At some distance off a procession had been pa.s.sing which had hitherto paid no attention to the crowd round the gate, but now this broke up and various persons quitted its ranks to try and sc.r.a.pe up some of the precious preserves. These creatures did not resemble anything that Redy and Smaly had seen up to then. At first sight they all appeared to be riding little horses; horses draped like those which we see in old pictures of tournaments.

These horses, however, were made of sugar, and very soon Redy and Smaly perceived that they were simply worn round the waists of the Wigs, whose two feet ran along the ground beneath the draperies where the four feet of the horses should have been.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THESE HORSES, HOWEVER, WERE MADE OF SUGAR]

Smaly could not help thinking that to have a horse like that would be rather fine if you could not afford a real horse of your own; but Redy was occupied in admiring the fine costumes of the Wigs who owned the horses.

These cavaliers were splendidly clad in green, white, rose, grey, and black. One, in particular, wore rose-coloured boots, and his horse was made to resemble a blue roan. Its mane was like a c.o.c.ks-comb, cut in scarlet points.

All these things Redy and Smaly managed to observe without showing undue astonishment; but neither could resist a little cry of surprise when they saw flying through the air a large fish. This fish, who wore a ring through his nose, had also come to take part in the unexpected feast.

Finally, even the Sponges, which the Wigs carried in their hands, and with which they had been drying the hedges, jumped out of their hands.

Each Sponge unfolded little legs and started running towards the jam.

And now a strange thing began to happen to the Confectioner. The poor fellow was evidently in great distress because Redy had told him that he was not an architect, but only Reckybecky.

Redy and Smaly had never in all their lives seen any one so cruelly upset.

He seemed to be melting before their eyes and becoming transparent. He did not cry; but seemed rather to be transformed into a sort of damp and clinging fog. "Just as though he were 'dissolving in tears,'" thought Smaly. And he stared curiously at the Confectioner who every moment became more cloud-like than ever.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE SPONGES]

But suddenly the vague outline of a hand, which was all that remained of him, struck the vaguer outline of his forehead as though an idea had come to him. Once more his face a.s.sumed a clarity as though it were made of mother-of-pearl, and he cried out:

"Reckybecky!"

This name reverberated round and about like a clap of thunder. It went on and on, making such a noise that all the little Wigs left off sc.r.a.ping up the jam and scampered away.

Redy felt afraid. Smaly jumped off the patten on which he had remained perched during the eclipse of the Confectioner. As to the latter, he endeavoured to shut his mouth and stop the noise from going on echoing; but he was not very solid again as yet and found some difficulty in doing it. At the end of the long avenue of sugar-trees Redy could see little groups of people gathered together looking about them to try and discover whence came this noise.

The Confectioner succeeded in shutting his mouth, and then turning towards Redy he opened it again, and remarked firmly:

"You are a stupid little thing."

Then turning to Smaly he said, with that confidential accent which one adopts when singling out the most intelligent person of a company for one's remarks:

"No, I cannot be Reckybecky, for somebody else is Reckybecky, so there!"