Dick, Marjorie and Fidge | Page 8

sight.
"Suddenly a cry of 'Fire!' rang through the town, and two or three of them hastily putting on their best clothes, joined the picnic party under the gnarled oak tree in the meadow, and their joyous laughter rang merrily down the old staircase, where the grandfather's clock stood, tick-tick-ticking, like the great volcano which yawned at their very feet, and into which the two boys plunged merrily, and were soon splashing about in the shallow water like a mahogany chest of drawers upon the sands of time."
The Sage paused.
"Do you like it?" he inquired, anxiously.
"Not much, I'm afraid," said Dick. "You see, we can't quite understand what it's all about."
"Well, neither do I," said the Sage, "because, you know, I'm making it up as I go along."
"Then it isn't true?" asked Marjorie.
"True? Nonsense! You wanted a story, didn't you? This is a real story; there isn't a particle of truth in it anywhere."
"Oh, we didn't mean that kind of story," explained Marjorie, "we meant a tale."
"What kind of a tale would you like--a Fishes' tale, a Birds' tale, or an Animals' tale?"
"A birds' tale, please," said Marjorie, after consulting the others.
"All right," said the Sage, "this is a lot of birds' tales all tied up together, and is called a fable----"
[Illustration: "The gossiping goose."]
"Is it one of ?sop's?" asked Dick, who thought that it would look grand for him to have heard of ?sop'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.
[Illustration: "They were crying bitterly."]
"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