The Magic Soap Bubble.

by David Cory.

NED had been reading a very interesting book about fairies and goblins, and how these real queer little folk inhabit dense forests and lofty mountain caves and lead a wonderful life apart from the homes and cities of men.

The book was very large and heavy, and the afternoon was very warm, and the big armchair in which he was curled up was so comfortable that by and by he let the book slip to one side.

He had just closed his eyes for a moment to rest them, when he was startled by a little squeaky voice at his elbow.

He opened his eyes with a start and saw a Gnome standing on the window-sill just in front of him. Yes, there was no mistake about it, it was a Gnome. For had not Ned a moment before seen his picture in the big book he had been reading? Indeed, it almost seemed as if the picture itself had stepped out of the page from between the covers, so exactly a duplicate did the little man appear.

"h.e.l.lo, Ned!" said the little squeaky voice again. "I say, h.e.l.lo! You ought to know me well enough by this time to answer, since you've been reading about me for the last hour."

"h.e.l.lo, yourself!" replied Ned, laughing in spite of himself, and rubbing his eyes again to make sure that it was not a picture from the book.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"Can't you see a fellow is sleepy after reading so long a time? I didn't think you were coming out of the book to speak to me, you know."

"Neither did I," retorted the Gnome, with a funny wink. "I came from the forest to invite you to take a little journey with me through Gnomeland.

I am the King of the Gnomes, and my subjects have told me how interested you are in reading about us, so I have come to take you for a trip through our kingdom. I know you will love to see all the wonderful things you have been reading about. Will you come?"

"Indeed, I will," said Ned.

"Then follow me," replied the Gnome.

Ned jumped through the window after the little fellow, who ran swiftly down the walk and across the fields to the forest beyond.

As they neared the brook that ran through the meadow, the Gnome paused.

Taking from his pocket a clay pipe, he stooped over and filled it with water.

"Did you ever blow soap bubbles?" he asked, taking a piece of soap from another pocket and rubbing it carefully around the inside of the pipe-bowl.

"Yes," replied Ned, "lots of times."

"Well, you wait and see what sort of a bubble I'll blow," replied the Gnome.

It was a bubble! But the strangest part of it all was that Ned found himself inside of it with his companion.

"How did we get inside, or how did the bubble get around us?" asked Ned, but before his question was answered away went the bubble up in the air, across the meadow, above the little brook, yes, over the roof of his own house, higher and higher, until finally it reached the big high mountain that he had so often dimly seen from the window of his bedroom at home.

After circling about the highest peak the bubble at length safely landed on a rocky ledge.

Before Ned could ask how they were ever going to get out the Gnome opened a little door through which he led him to the outer air.

There was a great change in the temperature, or else the inside of the bubble was very warm, for Ned began to shiver and shake. "Who-o-!" he cried; "it's co-old!"

"Of course it is. Look," answered the Gnome, and Ned's eyes, following the pointing finger of his little friend, fell upon a strange and terrifying figure.

Behind a bank of icicles stood a giant, with an immense helmet upon his head, from which hung long sharp pieces of ice. The top part was covered with snow which slipped off at intervals like a small avalanche to the ground below. His beard and mustache were festooned with thin slivers of ice, and his shoulders bore epaulets of frosted snow. The cuffs of his greatcoat were fringed with snowflakes, and altogether he was a startling and frigid looking individual. In his hands he held a monstrous bellows, from which he forced out a blast of icy air which, scattering the snow in whirling clouds, went howling down the rocky ravines.

"He's the Wind Man of the Mountain," explained the Gnome, turning to shivering Ned, whose toes and fingers by this time were quite numb with the cold.

"Well, I'd like to meet a Hot Air Man," said Ned, blowing on his hands to keep them from freezing. "I'd like to feel warm again."

"Well, then follow me!" cried the Gnome, and turning to a big rock he tapped upon it twice with the toe of his little red boot. In a moment a door opened, showing a pair of rocky steps leading down into the mountain.

"Be careful," admonished the Gnome, as he and Ned descended the rough flight. "Don't slip, for you might fall a long way."

Ned a.s.sured him he had no desire to fall, but that his feet were so numb he wasn't at all sure but what he might slip, no matter how hard he tried to be careful.

Although it was not exactly dark, at the same time the light was not sufficient for Ned to make out anything distinctly, and as the stairway was narrow and the walls dim he kept his eyes closely upon the ground.

Soon they came to a level corridor and he perceived a dim light in the distance. "Where are we going?" he asked. But at this point an iron door arrested their progress, and without pausing to answer, the Gnome took from his pocket a key. Inserting it in the lock, the door slowly swung open, and Ned heard the faint beating of a drum.

"Sit down," said the Gnome, drawing forward a wooden stool, much too small for Ned, but probably just the right size for a Gnome; "sit down and wait a moment while I go in search of the Gnomeland Band. I want you to hear them play, and I hear them practising now."

Ned glanced curiously around the strange place. It suddenly occurred to him that he was a long, long way from home. Here he was, deep down in the mountain, in a rocky cavern, sitting on a little Gnome stool, waiting for his friend to return. But what if he did not come back?

Ned's hair suddenly stood on end at the thought. Going over to the big iron door, he tried to turn the great k.n.o.b, but his fingers either were not strong enough or he did not know the secret of the lock. Returning to his seat, he made up his mind to wait a while before allowing his fears to get the better of him. This is what every brave boy would do under the circ.u.mstances, he said to himself, resolving not to be a coward.

Presently he was relieved to hear music, as the Gnome, at the head of the Gnomeland Band, came into view; and the funniest band that Ned had ever seen. Why, each instrument was playing itself and dancing the Mountain Tango at the same time!

The big drum went "b.u.m, b.u.m, b.u.m, diddle dum," and pranced around on a pair of short, fat legs in red stockings. Two fat little arms beat the drumsticks on the top of his head, or what appeared to be the top of his head, which was in reality a funny face, which winked and blinked as the drumsticks traveled over the queer little features.

"Toot! toot!" went the big yellow horn, as his fat little fingers pressed in the bra.s.s stops that made the notes high or low, or soft or shrill. Over the floor he skipped, after the round, fat drum.

The 'cello and the violin came next. The latter ran his bow across his stringed waistcoat in perfect time, while the former tw.a.n.ged the strings that covered his happy face in a jolly fashion. The rest of the band played on themselves beautifully, and the Gnome, with his baton, proved a most capable leader. In fact, the music was so delightful that Ned finally could restrain himself no longer, and, jumping up, began dancing around to the tune of "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow!"

"Heigh-ho! hey diddle-do!

Down in the mountain deep, Fiddle and drum, tiddle-dy-um, Are doing the Leopard Leap!"

Just then the music stopped, or, rather, the Musical Instruments paused to take breath, and Ned sat down again, wondering what next would happen. In a few minutes the round, fat drum commenced to beat "Left, right! left, right!" and the Gnomeland Band fell into line and marched slowly down the long cavern until it was out of sight.

THE MAGIC CAKE

Ned and the Gnome landed safely on a big soft bunker of moss.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

THE MAGIC CAKE

AS the last drum beat died away in the distance, the Gnome turned to Ned and said: "Come, let us hasten, for I am rather hungry, and you no doubt are in need of nourishment also."