The Wonderful Bed | Page 6

had, glaring at them out
of one red angry eye.
Ann was the first to recognize it. "Oh, oh," she cried, "it's not a rock at
all--it's Betsy's Warming-pan!"
The Pan, giving a deep throaty kind of growl, began to shuffle toward
them. "I'd like to have the warming of you three," he snarled. "I'll teach
you to come sitting on top of me playing your tricks on my rheumatic
bones--waking me out of the first good nap I've had in weeks!--I'll fix
you--"
"We're really very sorry," Ann began. "We didn't mean to sit on you,
we thought--"
But the Warming-pan did not want to hear what Ann thought. He
turned round on her fiercely. "_You're_ the young person," he snapped,
"who made the polite remarks about my figure this evening? Eh, didn't
you? Can you deny it? Called me old-fashioned and 'country'--said
nobody ever used me any more!--I'll teach you to talk about hot-water
bottles when _I'm_ through with you!" As he spoke he came closer and
closer to Ann, snorting and puffing and glaring at her out of his one
terrible eye. Although he was so round and waddled so clumsily,
dragging his long tail behind him, his appearance was quite dreadful.
He reminded Rudolf of the dragon in Peter's picture-book, and he
hastily tried to imagine how Saint George must have felt when
defending his princess. Clutching his sword, he thrust himself in front
of Ann and bravely faced the Warming-pan. "Run!" he called to the

others, "Fly!--and I will fight this monster to the death."
Ann, dragging Peter by the hand, made off as fast as she could go, and
the Pan tried his best to dodge Rudolf and rush after her. Again and
again Rudolf's sword struck him, but it only rattled on his brassiness,
and making a horrible face, he popped three live coals out of his mouth
which rolled on the ground unpleasantly close to Rudolf's bare toes.
Then they had it hot and heavy until at last the knight managed to get
his blade entangled with the dragon's long tail, and tripped the creature
up. Then, without waiting for his enemy to get himself together again
and heartily tired of playing Saint George, Rudolf turned and ran after
Ann and Peter. Long before he caught up to them, however, he heard
the Pan behind him, snorting and scolding. Luckily it did not seem able
to stop talking, so that it lost what little breath it had and was soon
obliged to halt. For some time Rudolf caught snatches of its unpleasant
remarks, such as--"Children nowadays--wish he had 'em--he'd show
'em--bread and water--good thick stick!--" Rudolf was obliged to run
with his fingers in his ears before that disagreeable voice died away in
the distance.
At last he saw Peter and Ann waiting for him at a turn in the passage
just ahead, and in another moment he flung himself panting on the
ground beside them. "What a beast he was!" Rudolf exclaimed.
"Dreadful!" said Ann. "I shall tell Aunt Jane never, never to let Betsy
put him in our bed again." And then, after she had thanked Rudolf very
prettily for saving her life, and that hero had recovered his breath and
rested a little after the excitement of the battle, they all felt ready to
start on their way again.
No sooner had they turned the corner ahead of them than they found
themselves in broad daylight. The passage was now so wide that all
three could walk abreast, holding hands; a moment more and they stood
at the mouth of the long white cave or tunnel they had been walking
through. There was open country beyond them, and just opposite to
where the children stood was the queerest little house that they had ever
seen. It was long and very low, hardly more than one story high, and
was painted blue and white in stripes running lengthwise. In the middle

was a little front door with a window on either side of it and three
square blue and white striped steps leading up to it. From the chimney a
trail of thick white smoke poured out. As the three children stood
staring at the house, Peter cried out: "It's snowing!"
Sure enough the air was full of thick white flakes.
"Oh, dear, oh, dear!" Ann wailed, "what shall we do now? We can't go
back in the cave because the Warming-pan might catch us, and if we
stay here Peter will catch his death of cold out in the snow in his night
drawers--and so will we all. Oh, what would mother say!"
"But we are not out in the snow, Ann," began Rudolf in his arguing
voice. "We are in in the snow."
"And it is not wet," added Peter