Produced by Greg Weeks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net NINE UNLIKELY TALES _By_ E. NESBIT _Illustrated by_ H. R. MILLAR AND CLAUDE A. SHEPPERSON ERNEST BENN LIMITED LONDON COWARD-McCANN INC NEW YORK IRIDI MEAE HOC ET COR MEUM CONTENTS I THE COCKATOUCAN _page_ 1 II WHEREYOUWANTOGOTO 49 III THE BLUE MOUNTAIN 85 IV THE PRINCE, TWO MICE, AND SOME KITCHEN-MAIDS 129 V MELISANDE: OR LONG AND SHORT DIVISION 159 VI FORTUNATUS REX AND CO 193 VII THE SUMS THAT CAME RIGHT 223 VIII THE TOWN IN THE LIBRARY, IN THE TOWN IN THE LIBRARY 243 IX THE PLUSH USURPER 267 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS _Matilda swung her legs miserably_ _page_ 5 _He waved away the eightpence_ 11 _The top part of Pridmore turned into painted iron and glass_ 17 _The Princess was like a yard and a half of white tape_ 21 _The King sent his army, and the enemy were crushed_ 31 _The King had turned into a villa residence_ 37 _Four men came wheeling a great red thing on a barrow_ 43 _They bounced through the suburbs_ 59 _The seal was very kind and convenient_ 63 _Suddenly, out of nothing and nowhere, appeared a large, stern housemaid_ 69 _A long, pointed thing came slowly up out of the sand_ 73 _It is difficult to play when any one is watching you, especially a policeman_ 79 _The people of Antioch were always in a hurry and generally angry_ 89 _Off they all went, King, court, and men-at-arms_ 99 _Tony was stamped on by the great seal, who was very fierce_ 103 _The giant-little-girl_ 107 _Tony among the rocks in the bread-and-milk basin_ 115 _âEverything you say will be used against youâ said the public persecutor_ 121 _He was growing, growing, growing_ 125 _Malevolaâs dress was not at all the thing for a christening_ 135 _There stood up a Prince and a Princess_ 155 _Trains of Princes bringing nasty things in bottles and round wooden boxes_ 173 _The Princess grew so big that she had to go and sit on the common_ 181 _The Princess in one scale and her hair in the other_ 189 â_Welcome! Welcome!_â 273 â_Poor benighted, oppressed people, follow me!_â 279 NINE UNLIKELY TALES _THE COCKATOUCAN_ _OR GREAT AUNT WILLOUGHBY_ MATILDAâS ears were red and shiny. So were her cheeks. Her hands were red too. This was because Pridmore had washed her. It was not the usual washing, which makes you clean and comfortable, but the âthorough good wash,â which makes you burn and smart till you wish you could be like the poor little savages who do not know anything, and run about bare in the sun, and only go into the water when they are hot. Matilda wished she could have been born in a savage tribe instead of at Brixton. âLittle savages,â she said, âdonât have their ears washed thoroughly, and they donât have new dresses that are prickly in the insides round their arms, and cut them round the neck. Do they, Pridmore?â But Pridmore only said, âStuff and nonsense,â and then she said, âdonât wriggle so, child, for goodnessâ sake.â Pridmore was Matildaâs nursemaid. Matilda sometimes found her trying. Matilda was quite right in believing that savage children do not wear frocks that hurt. It is also true that savage children are not over-washed, over-brushed, over-combed, gloved, booted, and hatted and taken in an omnibus to Streatham to see their Great-aunt Willoughby. This was intended to be Matildaâs fate. Her mother had arranged it. Pridmore had prepared her for it. Matilda, knowing resistance to be vain, had submitted to it. But Destiny had not been consulted, and Destiny had plans of its own for Matilda. When the last button of Matildaâs boots had been fastened (the button-hook always had a nasty temper, especially when it was hurried, and that day it bit a little piece of Matildaâs leg quite spitefully) the wretched child was taken downstairs and put on a chair in the hall to wait while Pridmore popped her own things on. âI shanât be a minute,â said Pridmore. Matilda knew better. She seated herself to wait, and swung her legs miserably. She had been to her Great-aunt Willoughbyâs before, and she knew exactly what to expect. She would be asked about her lessons, and how many marks she had, and whether she had been a good girl. I canât think why grown-up people donât see how impertinent these questions are. Suppose you were to answer, âIâm top of my class, Auntie, thank you, and Iâm very good. And now letâs have a little talk about you. Aunt, dear, how much money have you got, and have you been scolding the servants again, or have you tried to be good and patient as a properly brought up aunt should be, eh, dear?â [Illustration: MATILDA SWUNG HER LEGS MISERABLY.] Try this method with one of your aunts next time she begins asking you questions, and write and tell me what she says. Matilda knew exactly what the Aunt Willoughbyâs questions would be, and she knew how, when they were answered, her aunt would give her a small biscuit with carraway seeds in it, and then tell her to go with Pridmore and have her hands and face washed again. Then she would be sent to walk in the gardenâthe garden had a gritty path, and geraniums and calceolarias and lobelias in the beds. You might not pick anything. There would be minced veal at dinner, with three-cornered bits of toast round the dish, and a tapioca pudding. Then the long afternoon with a book, a bound volume of the âPottererâs Saturday Nightâânasty small printâand all the stories about children who died young because they were too good for this world. Matilda wriggled wretchedly. If she had been a little less uncomfortable she would have cried, but her new frock was too tight and prickly to let her forget it for a moment, even in tears. When Pridmore came down at last, she said, âFie, for shame! What a sulky face!â And Matilda said, âIâm not.â âOh, yes you are,â said Pridmore, âyou know you are, you donât appreciate your blessings.â âI wish it was your Aunt Willoughby,â said Matilda. âNasty, spiteful little thing!â said Pridmore, and she shook Matilda. Then Matilda tried to slap Pridmore, and the two went down the steps not at all pleased with each other. They went down the dull road to the dull omnibus, and Matilda was crying a little. Now Pridmore was a very careful person, though cross, but even the most careful persons make mistakes sometimesâand she must have taken the wrong omnibus, or this story could never have happened, and where should we all have been then? This shows you that even mistakes are sometimes valuable, so do not be hard on grown-up people if they are wrong sometimes. You know after all, it hardly ever happens. It was a very bright green and gold omnibus, and inside the cushions were green and very soft. Matilda and her nursemaid had it all to themselves, and Matilda began to feel more comfortable, especially as she had wriggled till she had burst one of her shoulder-seams and got more room for herself inside her frock. So she said, âIâm sorry I was cross, Priddy dear.â Pridmore said, âSo you ought to be.â But she never said _she_ was sorry for being cross. But you must not expect grown-up people to say that. It was certainly the wrong omnibus because instead of jolting slowly along dusty streets, it went quickly and smoothly down a green lane, with flowers in the hedges, and green trees overhead. Matilda was so delighted that she sat quite still, a very rare thing with her. Pridmore was reading a penny story called âThe Vengeance of the Lady Constantia,â so she did not notice anything. âI donât care. I shanât tell her,â said Matilda, âsheâd stop the âbus as likely as not.â At last the âbus stopped of its own accord. Pridmore put her story in her pocket and began to get out. âWell, I never!â she said, and got out very quickly and ran round to where the horses were. They were white horses with green harness, and their tails were very long indeed. âHi, young man!â said Pridmore to the omnibus driver, âyouâve brought us to the wrong place. This isnât Streatham Common, this isnât.â The driver was the most beautiful omnibus driver you ever saw, and his clothes were like him in beauty. He had white silk stockings and a ruffled silk shirt of white, and his coat and breeches were green and gold. So was the three-cornered hat which he lifted very politely when Pridmore spoke to him. [Illustration: HE WAVED AWAY THE EIGHTPENCE.] âI fear,â he said kindly, âthat you must have taken, by some unfortunate misunderstanding, the wrong omnibus.â âWhen does the next go back?â âThe omnibus does not go back. It runs from Brixton here once a month, but it doesnât go back.â âBut how does it get to Brixton again, to start again, I mean,â asked Matilda. âWe start a new one every time,â said the driver, raising his three-cornered hat once more. âAnd what becomes of the old ones?â Matilda asked. âAh,â said the driver, smiling, âthat depends. One never knows beforehand, things change so nowadays. Good morning. Thank you so much for your patronage. No, on no account, Madam.â He waved away the eightpence which Pridmore was trying to offer him for the fare from Brixton, and drove quickly off. When they looked round them, no, this was certainly not Streatham Common. The wrong omnibus had brought them to a strange villageâthe neatest, sweetest, reddest, greenest, cleanest, prettiest village in the world. The houses were grouped round a village green, on which children in pretty loose frocks or smocks were playing happily. Not a tight armhole was to be seen, or even imagined in that happy spot. Matilda swelled herself out and burst three hooks and a bit more of the shoulder seam. The shops seemed a little queer, Matilda thought. The names somehow did not match the things that were to be sold. For instance, where it said âElias Groves, Tinsmith,â there were loaves and buns in the window, and the shop that had âBakerâ over the door, was full of perambulatorsâthe grocer and the wheelwright seemed to have changed names, or shops, or somethingâand Miss Skimpling, Dressmaker or Milliner, had her shop window full of pork and sausage meat. âWhat a funny, nice place,â said Matilda. âI am glad we took the wrong omnibus.â A little boy in a yellow smock had come up close to them. âI beg your pardon,â he said very politely, âbut all strangers are brought before the king at once. Please follow me.â âWell, of all the impudence,â said Pridmore. âStrangers, indeed! And who may you be, I should like to know?â âI,â said the little boy, bowing very low, âam the Prime Minister. I know I do not look it, but appearances are deceitful. Itâs only for a short time. I shall probably be myself again by to-morrow.â Pridmore muttered something which the little boy did not hear. Matilda caught a few words. âSmacked,â âbed,â âbread and waterââfamiliar words all of them. âIf itâs a game,â said Matilda to the boy, âI should like to play.â He frowned. âI advise you to come at once,â he said, so sternly that even Pridmore was a little frightened. âHis Majestyâs Palace is in this direction.â He walked away, and Matilda made a sudden jump, dragged her hand out of Pridmoreâs, and ran after him. So Pridmore had to follow, still grumbling. The Palace stood in a great green park dotted with white-flowered may-bushes. It was not at all like an English palace, St. Jamesâs or Buckingham Palace, for instance, because it was very beautiful and very clean. When they got in they saw that the Palace was hung with green silk. The footmen had green and gold liveries, and all the courtiersâ clothes were the same colours. Matilda and Pridmore had to wait a few moments while the King changed his sceptre and put on a clean crown, and then they were shown into the Audience Chamber. The King came to meet them. âIt is kind of you to have come so far,â he said. âOf _course_ youâll stay at the Palace?â He looked anxiously at Matilda. âAre you _quite_ comfortable, my dear?â he asked doubtfully. Matilda was very truthfulâfor a girl. âNo,â she said, âmy frock cuts me round the armsâââ âAh,â said he, âand you brought no luggageâsome of the Princessâs frocksâher old ones perhapsâyesâyesâthis personâyour maid, no doubt?â A loud laugh rang suddenly through the hall. The King looked uneasily round, as though he expected something to happen. But nothing seemed likely to occur. âYes,â said Matilda, âPridmore isâOh, dear!â For before her eyes she saw an awful change taking place in Pridmore. In an instant all that was left of the original Pridmore were the boots and the hem of her skirtâthe top part of her had changed into painted iron and glass, and even as Matilda looked the bit of skirt that was left got flat and hard and square. The two feet turned into four feet, and they were iron feet, and there was no more Pridmore. [Illustration: THE TOP PART OF PRIDMORE TURNED INTO PAINTED IRON AND GLASS.] âOh, my poor child,â said the King, âyour maid has turned into an Automatic Machine.â It was too true. The maid had turned into a machine such as those which you see in a railway stationâgreedy, grasping things which take your pennies and give you next to nothing in chocolate and no change. But there was no chocolate to be seen through the glass of the machine that once had been Pridmore. Only little rolls of paper. The King silently handed some pennies to Matilda. She dropped one into the machine and pulled out the little drawer. There was a scroll of paper. Matilda opened it and readâ âDonât be tiresome.â She tried again. This time it wasâ âIf you donât give over Iâll tell your Ma first thing when she comes home.â The next wasâ âGo along with you doâalways worrying;â so then Matilda _knew_. âYes,â said the King sadly, âI fear thereâs no doubt about it. Your maid has turned into an Automatic Nagging Machine. Never mind, my dear, sheâll be all right to-morrow.â âI like her best like this, thank you,â said Matilda quickly. âI neednât put in any more pennies, you see.â âOh, we mustnât be unkind and neglectful,â said the King gently, and he dropped in a penny. _He_ gotâ âYou tiresome boy, you. Leave me be this minute.â âI canât help it,â said the King wearily; âyouâve no idea how suddenly things change here. Itâs becauseâbut Iâll tell you all about it at tea-time. Go with nurse now, my dear, and see if any of the Princessâs frocks will fit you.â Then a nice, kind, cuddly nurse led Matilda away to the Princessâs apartments, and took off the stiff frock that hurt, and put on a green silk gown, as soft as birdsâ breasts, and Matilda kissed her for sheer joy at being so comfortable. âAnd now, dearie,â said the nurse, âyouâd like to see the Princess, wouldnât you? Take care you donât hurt yourself with her. Sheâs rather sharp.â Matilda did not understand this then. Afterwards she did. [Illustration: THE PRINCESS WAS LIKE A YARD AND A HALF OF WHITE TAPE.] The nurse took her through many marble corridors and up and down many marble steps, and at last they came to a garden full of white roses, and in the middle of it, on a green satin-covered eiderdown, as big as a feather bed, sat the Princess in a white gown. She got up when Matilda came towards her, and it was like seeing a yard and a half of white tape stand up on one end and bowâa yard and a half of broad white tape, of course; but what is considered broad for tape is very narrow indeed for princesses. âHow are you?â said Matilda, who had been taught manners. âVery slim indeed, thank you,â said the Princess. And she was. Her face was so white and thin that it looked as though it were made of an oyster-shell. Her hands were thin and white, and her fingers reminded Matilda of fish-bones. Her hair and eyes were black, and Matilda thought she might have been pretty if she had been fatter. When she shook hands with Matilda her bony fingers hurt quite hard. The Princess seemed pleased to see her visitor, and invited her to sit with Her Highness on the satin cushion. âI have to be very careful or I should break,â said she; âthatâs why the cushion is so soft, and I canât play many games for fear of accidents. Do you know any sitting-down games?â The only thing Matilda could think of was Catâs-cradle, so they played that with the Princessâs green hair-ribbon. Her fish-bony fingers were much cleverer than Matildaâs little fat, pink paws. Matilda looked about her between the games and admired everything very much, and asked questions, of course. There was a very large bird chained to a perch in the middle of a very large cage. Indeed the cage was so big that it took up all one side of the rose-garden. The bird had a yellow crest like a cockatoo and a very large bill like a toucan. (If you do not know what a toucan is you do not deserve ever to go to the Zoological Gardens again.) âWhat is that bird?â asked Matilda. âOh,â said the Princess, âthatâs my pet Cockatoucan; heâs very valuable. If he were to die or be stolen the Green Land would wither up and grow like New Cross or Islington.â âHow horrible!â said Matilda. âIâve never been to those places, of course,â said the Princess, shuddering, âbut I hope I know my geography.â âAll of it?â asked Matilda. âEven the exports and imports,â said the Princess. âGoodbye, Iâm so thin I have to rest a good deal or I should wear myself out. Nurse, take her away.â So nurse took her away to a wonderful room, where she amused herself till tea-time with all the kind of toys that you see and want in the shop when some one is buying you a box of bricks or a puzzle mapâthe kind of toys you never get because they are so expensive. Matilda had tea with the King. He was full of true politeness and treated Matilda exactly as though she had been grown upâso that she was extremely happy and behaved beautifully. The King told her all his troubles. âYou see,â he began, âwhat a pretty place my Green Land was once. It has points even now. But things arenât what they used to be. Itâs that bird, that Cockatoucan. We darenât kill it or give it away. And every time it laughs something changes. Look at my Prime Minister. He was a six-foot man. And look at him now. I could lift him with one hand. And then your poor maid. Itâs all that bad bird.â âWhy _does_ it laugh?â asked Matilda. âI canât think,â said the King; âI canât see anything to laugh at.â âCanât you give it lessons, or something nasty to make it miserable?â âI have, I do, I assure you, my dear child. The lessons that bird has to swallow would choke a Professor.â âDoes it eat anything else besides lessons?â âChristmas pudding. But thereâwhatâs the use of talkingâthat bird would laugh if it were fed on dog-biscuits.â His Majesty sighed and passed the buttered toast. âYou canât possibly,â he went on, âhave any idea of the kind of things that happen. That bird laughed one day at a Cabinet Council, and all my ministers turned into little boys in yellow socks. And we canât get any laws made till they come right again. Itâs not their fault, and I must keep their situations open for them, of course, poor things.â âOf course,â said Matilda. âThere was a Dragon, now,â said the King. âWhen he came I offered the Princessâs hand and half my kingdom to any one who would kill him. Itâs an offer that is always made, you know.â âYes,â said Matilda. âWell, a really respectable young Prince came along, and every one turned out to see him fight the Dragon. As much as ninepence each was paid for the front seats, I assure you. The trumpet sounded and the Dragon came hurrying up. A trumpet is like a dinner-bell to a Dragon, you know. And the Prince drew his bright sword and we all shouted, and then that wretched bird laughed and the Dragon turned into a pussy-cat, and the Prince killed it before he could stop himself. The populace was furious.â âWhat happened then?â asked Matilda. âWell, I did what I could. I said, âYou shall marry the Princess just the same.â So I brought the Prince home, and when we got there the Cockatoucan had just been laughing again, and the Princess had turned into a very old German governess. The Prince went home in a great hurry and an awful temper. The Princess was all right in a day or two. These are trying times, my dear.â âI am so sorry for you,â said Matilda, going on with the preserved ginger. âWell you may be,â said the miserable Monarch; âbut if I were to try to tell you all that that bird has brought on my poor kingdom I should keep you up till long past your proper bedtime.â âI donât mind,â said Matilda kindly. âDo tell me some more.â âWhy,â the King went on, growing now more agitated, âwhy, at one titter from that revolting bird the long row of ancestors on my Palace wall grew red-faced and vulgar; they began to drop their Hâs and to assert that their name was Smith from Clapham Junction.â âHow dreadful!â âAnd once,â said the King in a whimper, âit laughed so loudly that two Sundays came together and next Thursday got lost, and went prowling away and hid itself on the other side of Christmas.â âAnd now,â he said suddenly, âitâs bedtime.â âMust I go?â asked Matilda. âYes please,â said the King. âI tell all strangers this tragic story because I always feel that perhaps some stranger might be clever enough to help me. You seem a very nice little girl. Do you think you are clever?â It is very nice even to be _asked_ if you are clever. Your Aunt Willoughby knows well enough that you are not. But kings do say nice things. Matilda was very pleased. âI donât think I am clever,â she was saying quite honestly, when suddenly the sound of a hoarse laugh rang through the banqueting hall. Matilda put her hands to her head. âOh, dear!â she cried, âI feel so different. Oh! wait a minute. Oh! whatever is it? Oh!â Then she was silent for a moment. Then she looked at the King and said, âI was wrong, your Majesty, I _am_ clever, and I know it is not good for me to sit up late. Good-night. Thank you so much for your nice party. In the morning I think I shall be clever enough to help you, unless the bird laughs me back into the other kind of Matilda.â But in the morning Matildaâs head felt strangely clear; only when she came down to breakfast full of plans for helping the King, she found that the Cockatoucan must have laughed in the night, for the beautiful Palace had turned into a butcherâs shop, and the King, who was too wise to fight against Fate, had tucked up his royal robes, and was busy in the shop weighing out six ounces of the best mutton-chops for a child with a basket. âI donât know how ever you can help me now,â he said, despairingly; âas long as the Palace stays like this, itâs no use trying to go on with being a king, or anything. I can only try to be a good butcher. You shall keep the accounts if you like, till that bird laughs me back into my Palace again.â So the King settled down to business, respected by his subjects, who had all, since the coming of the Cockatoucan, had their little ups and downs. And Matilda kept the books and wrote out the bills, and really they were both rather happy. Pridmore, disguised as the automatic machine, stood in the shop and attracted many customers. They used to bring their children, and make the poor innocents put their pennies in, and then read Pridmoreâs good advice. Some parents are so harsh. And the Princess sat in the back garden with the Cockatoucan, and Matilda played with her every afternoon. But one day, as the King was driving through another kingdom, the King of that kingdom looked out of one of his Palace windows, and laughed as the King went by, and shouted, âButcher!â [Illustration: THE KING SENT HIS ARMY, AND THE ENEMY WERE CRUSHED.] The Butcher-King did not mind this, because it was true, however rude. But when the other King called out, âWhat price catâs meat!â the King was very angry indeed, because the meat he sold was always of the best quality. When he told Matilda all about it, she said, âSend the Army to crush him.â So the King sent his Army, and the enemy were crushed. The Bird laughed the King back into his throne, and laughed away the butcherâs shop just in time for his Majesty to proclaim a general holiday, and to organise a magnificent reception for the Army. Matilda now helped the King to manage everything. She wonderfully enjoyed the new delightful feeling of being clever, so that she felt it was indeed too bad when the Cockatoucan laughed just as the reception was beautifully arranged. It laughed, and the general holiday was turned into an income tax; the magnificent reception changed itself to a royal reprimand, and the Army itself suddenly became a discontented Sunday-school treat, and had to be fed with buns and brought home in brakes, crying. âSomething must be done,â said the King. âWell,â said Matilda, âIâve been thinking if you will make me the Princessâs governess, Iâll see what I can do. Iâm quite clever enough.â âI must open Parliament to do that,â said the King; âitâs a Constitutional change.â So he hurried off down the road to open Parliament. But the bird put its head on one side and laughed at him as he went by. He hurried on, but his beautiful crown grew large and brassy, and was set with cheap glass in the worst possible taste. His robe turned from velvet and ermine to flannelette and rabbitâs fur. His sceptre grew twenty feet long and extremely awkward to carry. But he persevered, his royal blood was up. âNo bird,â said he, âshall keep me from my duty and my Parliament.â But when he got there, he was so agitated that he could not remember which was the right key to open Parliament with, and in the end he hampered the lock and so could not open Parliament at all, and members of Parliament went about making speeches in the roads to the great hindrance of the traffic. The poor King went home and burst into tears. âMatilda,â he said, âthis is too much. You have always been a comfort to me. You stood by me when I was a butcher; you kept the books; you booked the orders; you ordered the stock. If you really are clever enough, now is the time to help me. If you wonât, Iâll give up the business. Iâll leave off being a King. Iâll go and be a butcher in the Camberwell New Road, and I will get another little girl to keep my books, not you.â This decided Matilda. She said, âVery well, your Majesty, then give me leave to prowl at night. Perhaps I shall find out what makes the Cockatoucan laugh; if I can do that, we can take care he never gets it, whatever it is.â âAh!â said the poor King, âif you could only do that.â When Matilda went to bed that night, she did not go to sleep. She lay and waited till all the Palace was quiet, and then she crept softly, pussily, mousily to the garden, where the Cockatoucanâs cage was, and she hid behind a white rosebush, and looked and listened. Nothing happened till it was gray dawn, and then it was only the Cockatoucan who woke up. But when the sun was round and red over the Palace roof, something came creeping, creeping, pussily, mousily out of the Palace; and it looked like a yard and a half of white tape creeping along; and it was the Princess herself. She came quietly up to the cage, and squeezed herself between the bars; they were very narrow bars, but a yard and a half of white tape can go through the bars of any birdcage I ever saw. And the Princess went up to the Cockatoucan and tickled him under his wings till he laughed aloud. Then, quick as thought, the Princess squeezed through the bars, and was back in her room before the bird had finished laughing. Matilda went back to bed. Next day all the sparrows had turned into cart horses, and the roads were impassable. That day when she went, as usual, to play with the Princess, Matilda said to her suddenly, âPrincess, what makes you so thin?â The Princess caught Matildaâs hand and pressed it with warmth. âMatilda,â she said simply, âyou have a noble heart. No one else has ever asked me that, though they tried to cure it. And I couldnât answer till I was asked, could I? Itâs a sad, a tragic tale, Matilda. I was once as fat as you are.â [Illustration: THE KING HAD TURNED INTO A VILLA RESIDENCE.] âIâm not so very fat,â said Matilda, indignantly. âWell,â said the Princess impatiently, âI was quite fat enough anyhow. And then I got thinââ âBut how?â âBecause they would not let me have my favourite pudding every day.â âWhat a shame!â said Matilda, âand what is your favourite pudding?â âBread and milk, of course, sprinkled with rose leavesâand with pear-drops in it.â Of course, Matilda went at once to the King, and while she was on her way the Cockatoucan happened to laugh. When she reached the King, he was in no condition for ordering dinner, for he had turned into a villa-residence, replete with every modern improvement. Matilda only recognised him, as he stood sadly in the Park, by the crown that stuck crookedly on one of the chimney-pots, and the border of ermine along the garden path. So she ordered the Princessâs favourite pudding on her own responsibility, and the whole Court had it every day for dinner, till there was no single courtier but loathed the very sight of bread and milk, and there was hardly one who would not have run a mile rather than meet a pear-drop. Even Matilda herself got rather tired of it, though being clever, she knew how good bread and milk was for her. But the Princess got fatter and fatter, and rosier and rosier. Her thread-paper gowns had to be let out, and let out, till there were no more turnings in left to be let out, and then she had to wear the old ones that Matilda had been wearing, and then to have new ones. And as she got fatter she got kinder, till Matilda grew quite fond of her. And the Cockatoucan had not laughed for a month. When the Princess was as fat as any Princess ought to be, Matilda went to her one day, and threw her arms round her and kissed her. The Princess kissed her back, and said, âVery well, I _am_ sorry then, but I didnât want to say so, but now I will. And the Cockatoucan never laughs except when heâs tickled. So there! He hates to laugh.â âAnd you wonât do it again,â said Matilda, âwill you?â âNo, of course not,â said the Princess, very much surprised, âwhy should I? I was spiteful when I was thin, but now Iâm fat again I want every one to be happy.â âBut how can any one be happy?â asked Matilda, severely, âwhen every one is turned into something they werenât meant to be? Thereâs your dear fatherâheâs a desirable villaâthe Prime Minister was a little boy, and he got back again, and now heâs turned into a Comic Opera. Half the Palace housemaids are breakers, dashing themselves against the Palace crockery: the Navy, to a man, are changed to French poodles, and the Army to German sausages. Your favourite nurse is now a flourishing steam laundry, and I, alas! am too clever by half. Canât that horrible bird do anything to put us all right again?â âNo,â said the Princess, dissolved in tears at this awful picture, âhe told me once himself that when he laughed he could only change one or two things at once, and then, as often as not, it turned out to be something he didnât expect. The only way to make everything come right again would beâbut it canât be done! If we could only make him laugh on the wrong side of his mouth. Thatâs the secret. He told me so. But I donât know what it _is_, let alone being able to do it. Could _you_ do it, Matilda?â âNo,â said Matilda, âbut let me whisper. Heâs listening. Pridmore could. Sheâs often told me sheâd do it to me. But she never has. Oh, Princess, Iâve got an idea.â The two were whispering so low that the Cockatoucan could not hear, though he tried his hardest. Matilda and the Princess left him listening. Presently he heard a sound of wheels. Four men came into the rose-garden wheeling a great red thing in a barrow. They set it down in front of the Cockatoucan, who danced on his perch with rage. âOh,â he said, âif only some one would make me laugh, that horrible thing would be the one to change. I know it would. It would change into something much horrider than it is now. I feel it in all my feathers.â The Princess opened the cage-door with the Prime Ministerâs key, which a tenor singer had found at the beginning of his music. It was also the key of the comic opera. She crept up behind the Cockatoucan and tickled him under both wings. He fixed his baleful eye on the red Automatic Machine and laughed long and loud; he saw the red iron and glass change before his eyes into the form of Pridmore. Her cheeks were red with rage and her eyes shone like glass with fury. [Illustration: FOUR MEN CAME WHEELING A GREAT RED THING ON A BARROW.] âNice manners!â said she to the Cockatoucan, âwhat are you laughing at, I should like to knowâIâll make you laugh on the wrong side of your mouth, my fine fellow!â She sprang into the cage, and then and there, before the astonished Court, she shook that Cockatoucan till he really and truly did laugh on the wrong side of his mouth. It was a terrible sight to witness, and the sound of that wrong-sided laughter was horrible to hear. But instantly all the things changed back as if by magic to what they had been before. The laundry became a nurse, the villa became a king, the other people were just what they had been before, and all Matildaâs wonderful cleverness went out like the snuff of a candle. The Cockatoucan himself fell in twoâone half of him became a common, ordinary Toucan, such as you must have seen a hundred times at the Zoo, unless you are unworthy to visit that happy place, and the other half became a weathercock, which, as you know, is always changing and makes the wind change too. So he has not quite lost his old power. Only now he is in halves, any power he may have has to be used without laughing. The poor, broken Cockatoucan, like King you-know-who in English history, has never since that sad day smiled again. The grateful King sent an escort of the whole Army, now no longer dressed in sausage skins, but in uniforms of dazzling beauty, with drums and banners, to see Matilda and Pridmore home. But Matilda was very sleepy. She had been clever for so long that she was quite tired out. It is indeed a very fatiguing thing, as no doubt you know. And the soldiers must have been sleepy too, for one by one the whole Army disappeared, and by the time Pridmore and Matilda reached home there was only one left, and he was the policeman at the corner. The next day Matilda began to talk to Pridmore about the Green Land and the Cockatoucan and the Villa-residence-King, but Pridmore only saidâ âPack of nonsense! Hold your tongue, do!â So Matilda naturally understood that Pridmore did not wish to be reminded of the time when she was an Automatic Nagging Machine, so of course, like a kind and polite little girl, she let the subject drop. Matilda did not mention her adventures to the others at home because she saw that they believed her to have spent the time with her Great-aunt Willoughby. And she knew if she had said that she had not been there she would be sent at onceâand she did not wish this. She has often tried to get Pridmore to take the wrong omnibus again, which is the only way she knows of getting to the Green Land; but only once has she been successful, and then the omnibus did not go to the Green Land at all, but to the Elephant and Castle. But no little girl ought to expect to go to the Green Land more than once in a lifetime. Many of us indeed are not even so fortunate as to go there once. WHEREYOUWANTOGO. or THE BOUNCIBLE BALL. IT is very hard, when you have been accustomed to go to the seaside every summer ever since you were quite little, to be made to stay in London just because an aunt and an uncle choose to want to come and stay at your house to see the Royal Academy and go to the summer sales. Selim and Thomasina felt that it was very hard indeed. And aunt and uncle were not the nice kind, either. If it had been Aunt Emma, who dressed dolls and told fairy-talesâor Uncle Reggie, who took you to the Crystal Palace, and gave you five bob at a time, and never even asked what you spent it on, it would have been different. But it was Uncle Thomas and Aunt Selina. Aunt Selina was all beady, and sat bolt upright, and told you to mind what you were told, and Selim had been named after herâas near as they could get. And Uncle Thomas was the one Thomasina had been named after: he was deaf, and he always told you what the moral of everything was, and the housemaid said he was ânear.â âI know he is, worse luck,â said Thomasina. âI mean, miss,â explained the housemaid, âheâs none too free with his chink.â Selim groaned. âHe never gave me but a shilling in his life,â said he, âand that turned out to be bad when I tried to change it at the ginger-beer shop.â The children could not understand why this aunt and uncle were allowed to interfere with everything as they did: and they quite made up their minds that when they were grown up they would never allow an aunt or an uncle to cross their doorsteps. They never thoughtâpoor, dear little thingsâthat some day they would grow up to be aunts and uncles in their turn, or, at least, one of each. It was very hot in London that year: the pavement was like hot pie, and the asphalt was like hot pudding, and there was a curious wind that collected dust and straw and dirty paper, and then got tired of its collection, and threw it away in respectable peopleâs areas and front gardens. The blind in the nursery had never been fixed up since the day when the children took it down to make a drop-scene for a play they were going to write and never did. So the hot afternoon sun came burning in through the window, and the children got hotter and hotter, and crosser and crosser, till at last Selim slapped Thomasinaâs arms till she cried, and Thomasina kicked Selimâs legs till he screamed. Then they sat down in different corners of the nursery and cried, and called each other names, and said they wished they were dead. This is very naughty indeed, as, of course, you know; but you must remember how hot it was. When they had called each other all the names they could think of, Thomasina said, suddenly, âAll right, Silly,â (that was Selimâs pet name)ââcheer up.â âItâs too hot to cheer up,â said Selim, gloomily. âWeâve been very naughty,â said Thomasina, rubbing her eyes with the paint rag, âbut itâs all the heat. I heard Aunt Selina telling mother the weather wore her nerves to fiddle-strings. That just meant she was cross.â âThen itâs not _our_ fault,â said Selim. âPeople say be good and youâll be happy. Uncle Reggy says, âBe happy, and perhaps youâll be good.â _I_ could be good if I was happy.â âSo could I,â said Thomasina. âWhat _would_ make you happy?â said a thick, wheezy voice from the toy cupboard, and out rolled the big green and red india-rubber ball that Aunt Emma had sent them last week. They had not played with it much, because the garden was so hot and sunnyâand when they wanted to play with it in the street, on the shady side, Aunt Selina had said it was not like respectable children, so they werenât allowed. Now the Ball rolled out very slowlyâand the bright light on its new paint seemed to make it wink at them. You will think that they were surprised to hear a ball speak. Not at all. As you grow up, and more and more strange things happen to you, you will find that the more astonishing a thing is the less it surprises you. (I wonder why this is. Think it over, and write and tell me what you think.) Selim stood up, and said, âHalloaâ; but that was only out of politeness. Thomasina answered the Ballâs question. âWe want to be at the seasideâand no auntsâand none of the things we donât likeâand no uncles, of course,â she said. âWell,â said the Ball, âif you think you can be good, why not set me bouncing?â âWeâre not allowed in here,â said Thomasina, âbecause of the crinkly ornaments people give me on my birthdays.â âWell, the street then,â said the Ball; âthe nice shady side.â âItâs not like respectable children,â said Selim sadly. The Ball laughed. If you have never heard an india-rubber ball laugh you wonât understand. Itâs the sort of quicker, quicker, quicker, softer, softer, softer chuckle of a bounce that it gives when itâs settling down when youâre tired of bouncing it. âThe garden, then,â it said. âI donât mind, if youâll go on talking,â said Selim kindly. So they took the Ball down into the garden and began to bounce it in the sun, on the dry, yellowy grass of the lawn. âCome on,â said the Ball. âYou do like me!â âWhat?â said the children. âWhy, do like I doâbounce!â said the Ball. âThatâs rightâhigher, higher, higher!â For then and there the two children had begun bouncing as if their feet were india-rubber balls, and you have no idea what a delicious sensation that gives you. âHigher, higher,â cried the green and red ball, bouncing excitedly. âNow, follow me, higher, higher.â And off it bounced down the blackened gravel of the path, and the children bounced after it, shrieking with delight at the new feeling. They bounced over the wallâall three of themâand the children looked back just in time to see Uncle Thomas tapping at the window, and saying, âDonât.â You have not the least idea how glorious it is to feel full of bouncibleness; so that, instead of dragging one foot after the other, as you do when you feel tired or naughty, you bounce along, and every time your feet touch the ground you bounce higher, and all without taking any trouble or tiring yourself. You have, perhaps, heard of the Greek gentleman who got new strength every time he fell down. His name was AntÃ¦us, and I believe he was an india-rubber ball, green on one side where he touched the earth, and red on the other where he felt the sun. But enough of classical research. Thomasina and Selim bounced away, following the Bouncible Ball. They went over fences and walls, and through parched, dry gardens and burning-hot streets; they passed the region where fields of cabbages and rows of yellow brick cottages mark the division between London and the suburbs. They bounced through the suburbs, dusty and neat, with geraniums in the front gardens, and all the blinds pulled half-way down; and then the lamp-posts in the road got fewer and fewer, and the fields got greener and the hedges thickerâit was real, true countryâwith lanes instead of roads; and down the lanes the green and red Ball went bouncing, bouncing, bouncing, and the children after it. Thomasina, in her white, starched frock, very prickly round the neck, and Selim, in his every-day sailor-suit, a little tight under the arms. His Sunday one was a size larger. No one seemed to notice them, but they noticed and pitied the children who were being âtaken for a walkâ in the gritty suburban roads. âWhere are we going?â they asked the Ball, and it answered, with a sparkling green and red smileâ âTo the most delightful place in the world.â âWhatâs it called?â asked Selim. âItâs called Whereyouwantogoto,â the Ball answered, and on they went. It was a wonderful journeyâup and down, looking through the hedges and over them, looking in at the doors of cottages, and then in at the top windows, up and downâbounceâbounceâbounce. And at last they came to the sea. And the Bouncing Ball said, âHere you are! Now be good, for thereâs nothing here but the things that make people happy.â And with that he curled himself up like a ball in the shadow of a wet sea-weedy rock, and went to sleep, for he was tired out with his long journey. The children stopped bouncing, and looked about them. âOh, Tommy;â said Selim. [Illustration: THEY BOUNCED THROUGH THE SUBURBS.] âOh, Silly!â said Thomasina. And well they might! In the place to which the Ball had brought them was all that your fancy can possibly paint, and a great deal more beside. The children feel exactly as you do when youâve had the long, hot, dirty train journeyâand every one has been so cross about the boxes and the little brown portmanteau that was left behind at the junctionâand then when you get to your lodgings you are told that you may run down and have a look at the sea if youâre back by tea time, and mother and nurse will unpack. Only Thomasina and her brother had not had a tiresome journeyâand there were no nasty, stuffy lodgings for them, and no tea with oily butter and a new pot of marmalade. âThereâs silver-sand,â said sheââmiles of it.â âAnd rocks,â said he. âAnd cliffs.â âAnd caves in the cliffs.â âAnd how cool it is,â said Thomasina. âAnd yet itâs nice and warm too,â said Selim. âAnd what shells!â âAnd seaweed.â âAnd the downs behind!â âAnd trees in the distance!â âAnd hereâs a dog, to go after sticks. Here, Rover, Rover.â A big black dog answered at once to the name, because he was a retriever, and they are all called Rover. âAnd spades!â said the girl. âAnd pails!â said the boy. âAnd what pretty sea-poppies,â said the girl. âAnd a basketâand grub in it!â said the boy. So they sat down and had lunch. It was a lovely lunch. Lobsters and ice-creams (strawberry and pine-apple), and toffee and hot buttered toast and ginger-beer. They ate and ate, and thought of the aunt and uncle at home, and the minced veal and sago pudding, and they were very happy indeed. Just as they
{'title': 'Nine Unlikely Tales by E. Nesbit', 'source': 'Project Gutenberg', 'lang': 'en'}