CHAPTER VII
A COLLATION UNDER DIFFICULTIES
D'une facon fort civile. _Le rat de ville et le rat des champs._
They were at the opposite side of the garden from that by which they hadentered it, and just before them was a large white tent. A faint soundreached them--a rustle and murmur, as of people moving about busily, butnot of voices. The tent appeared closed, but as they went nearer theysaw that there were doors or flaps in the stuff it was made of, whichcould be opened either from within or without.
Hildegarde turned to Leonore.
'We may as well go in,' she said. 'We weren't told not to, and we wantto see all we can.'
Leonore was looking a little frightened again.
'We can't knock,' she said; 'there's nothing to knock on. And we can'tring; there's no bell.'
'So the only thing is to walk in,' said Hildegarde.
She drew aside the first flap they came to, and both entered.
It was a busy scene. There was a table right round the tent, and at itgnomes were working actively. A moment's glance sufficed to show thatthey were packing, for queer-shaped boxes and baskets stood about, andquantities of moss. For a minute or so no one seemed to notice thevisitors. These gnomes were evidently not of the young and giddy class;they did not seem to be speaking to each other at all. The children drewstill closer to the table. The gnome nearest to them was laying a brightscarlet flower, in shape like a large pitcher with half a dozen smalljugs hanging round it, in a basket well filled with moss. He glanced atthe newcomers.
'If you please,' said Hildegarde, 'are you packing flowers?'
'You can see that for yourself,' was the reply.
'Yes,' she agreed, 'but we would like to know why you are doing it--Imean where are all the packages to be sent to, and what for?'
'Who sent you down here?' asked the gnome.
'The spinning-wheel fairy,' Hildegarde replied.
The gnome's manner became more cordial.
'Ah well, then,' he said, 'I don't mind explaining things a little. Shewould not send idle folk to tease us; she is always busy herself. We arepacking pattern-flowers. Our artists design them, and our most skilfulmetal-workers make them, and then we send them up to be copied again.'
'Up to our world, do you mean?' asked Leonore. 'I didn't know we had somany new patterns of flowers.'
The gnome shook his head.
'You don't,' he said; 'only a very few find their way to the place youcome from. We send them first to the flower-fairies, and they copy themin common stuff--stuff like what all your flowers up there are made of,'with a tone of contempt, 'and then they send them off again--seeds orroots--whichever they think best, and that's how new flowers start.'
'But where do they send them to?' asked Hildegarde curiously. 'You saynot many come to our world.'
'That's not my business,' he replied. 'Your world isn't the only one.You can ask the flower-fairies if ever you pass their way. Now I mustget on with my work. If you cross the tent you will see the toy-packersat the other side.'
The children's eyes sparkled.
'Toys,' they repeated. 'Do you make toys down here?'
The gnome nodded.
'That's our principal dealing with your world,' he said. 'You don't meanto say you thought all the toys your shops are full of are made byclumsy human fingers! You should see our toy factory aboutChristmas-time. Santa Claus has a time of it, choosing and settling, Ican tell you.'
Hildegarde and Leonore were breathless with eagerness.
'Oh, how interesting!' they exclaimed. 'Mayn't we see the toy factory?Do tell us which way to go to get to it.'
But to their disappointment the little packer shook his head.
'Can't be done,' he said. 'Doors are closed to all visitors for sixmonths before Christmas. That's the arrangement with Santa Claus. Itwould never do for it to leak out about the new inventions before thetime. You can see some of the regular toys over there where they'repacking, for even on them we're always improving.'
The children saw that it was no use persisting, for there was somethingvery decided about the gnomes' manner even when they were the mostamiable. And the small man was busily at work again. So they made theirway quietly to the other side of the tent.
There they saw displayed, waiting to be packed, a good many toys theyhad often seen before, and some not so familiar. There were queer littledoll gnomes, or groups of them for ornaments--not very like those thechildren had seen alive in one way, for as a rule the living gnomes weregrave and pompous, and the figures were represented as laughing androllicking.
'They must be taken from the young gnomes, the ones who are only two orthree hundred years old,' said Leonore, smiling. 'But, oh, Hildegarde,do look at that doll-house furniture half packed over there. Isn't ittoo lovely? I've often wondered--haven't you?--how people's fingers_could_ make such tiny things, but now I understand. Oh, I do wish wecould have seen the toy manufactory!'
But it was no use wishing. None of the packers took much notice of them,so they thought it as well to pass out of the tent, trusting thatsomehow or other they would find their way home, for they were surethat the spinning-wheel fairy would not forget them.
And in this they were right.
A straight path between the rocks was before them as they came out ofthe tent, so there was no question of which way to go. They ran onfearlessly for some distance, till the passage they were followingsuddenly emerged into a large square, or 'round' rather, on all sides ofwhich stood tiny little houses, each exactly like its neighbours, with adoor in the middle, and a window at both sides. And at every doorwayappeared a little gnome woman, with a gnome baby in her arms. You neversaw anything so funny.
Hildegarde and Leonore stopped short in astonishment; they couldscarcely help bursting out laughing, the whole scene was so comical.
'This must be the gnome village,' said Hildegarde in a low voice. 'Iwonder how old these "babies" are--fifty or sixty, perhaps!'
Before Leonore had time to reply, one of the little women steppedforward. She curtsied very politely, and when she spoke her voice,though rather squeaky, was meek and gentle. It was evident that theMrs. Gnomes were kept in good order by their lords and masters.
'We have received a message to tell us you would be honouring us with avisit,' she said, 'and we have prepared a little collation for you. MayI ask you to step inside?'
She pointed as she spoke to the door of her own little house, and thechildren turned to follow her. But, alack and alas, with all thegoodwill in the world, they could not have availed themselves of thegood lady's invitation! The door of the cottage was not as high as theirwaists, and even if they had crept in, they could not possibly havestood or even crouched inside. It would have been a tighter fit than ina fair-sized dog's kennel!
'I am very sorry,' began Hildegarde, but she was interrupted by a burstof wailing. All the little women had rushed forward, each clutching herbaby, and all the babies roared too, rubbing their fists in their eyes,and looking more grotesquely gnome-like--as indeed they had a good rightto do--than ever.
'Oh dear, oh dear,' sobbed the little women, 'what _shall_ we do? Wenever thought of our houses being too small for the gracious ladies, andour masters will be so angry if they find the collation has not beenpartaken of, for they sent strict orders by an electric bird.'
'An electric bird,' repeated the children, very much interested. 'Do letus see it,' but the gnome lady nearest them shook her head.
'It's gone back again,' she said, 'and it flies so fast you couldn't seeit. It just whistles a message. Oh, it's quite a common thing; but, ohdear, dear, what _shall_ we do about the collation?' and at her wordsall the other little women started wringing their hands again, while thebabies screamed.
Hildegarde looked as if she did not know whether to laugh or to pitythem, but Leonore felt very sorry for them; then a brilliant thoughtstruck her.
'Supposing you carry it out here,' she said, 'to the middle of thesquare--the coll
ation, I mean. We could sit down on the ground and eatit quite comfortably.'
And indeed so far as the _quantity_ was concerned, there was not likelyto be any difficulty. 'If they've planned it according to their ownsize,' Leonore whispered to Hildegarde, 'we could eat it all up like adolls' feast in half a minute.'
'Yes,' Hildegarde replied in the same tone. 'I only hope it issomething we _can_ eat. Not roasted flies, or anything like that.'
The little women had seized Leonore's suggestion with delight, and werenow busily employed in carrying out the feast. They first placed atable--a huge table they evidently thought it, though it was only abouttwo feet long--in the middle of the square, and then carried out thedishes, of which, the little girls were glad to see, there were not,after all, above half a dozen.
Then the gnome lady who had first spoken to them seated herself at oneend, and Hildegarde and Leonore took their places on the ground at eachside, the crowd of little women, rushing about to wait upon them,tucking their babies under one arm in an original fashion of their own.
'What may I have the pleasure of helping you to first?' said the smallhostess. She had now quite recovered her spirits, and spoke in a veryelegant manner, moving her hands airily over the dishes, having plumpeddown _her_ baby on the ground beside her, where it lay quite contentedlysucking its thumbs.
'Thank you,' said Hildegarde, 'please give us anything you like.'
'It is a little difficult to choose, you see,' said Leonore, who feltquite at ease with the gnome ladies, 'as we do not know what the thingsare--though,' she added quickly, 'they look very nice.'
The small woman looked rather disappointed.
'They should not be strange to you,' she said. 'They are all--or nearlyall--made of our upper-world supplies, as we thought you would preferthem. The dish before you contains blackberries, with just a touch ofpine-cone flavouring; the one opposite is wild honey--we deal regularlywith the bees through the flower-fairies, who understand their language.Then these are cakes of acorn flour, and the jelly at the other side isa special recipe of our own made from the moss which grows thickly wherethe streamlets trickle down from the upper world.'
'Thank you,' said Hildegarde again, 'may I have some blackberries? It isvery late for them, isn't it?'
Their hostess shook her head.
'They are not freshly gathered,' she said, 'but they are just asgood--nothing ever gets stale in our rock larders.'
'How very convenient,' said Hildegarde, as she tasted the blackberries.They were not bad, though they had a curious aromatic flavour. Butafter all, it did not much matter, as one good-sized teaspoon would haveheld all her helping!
Leonore had chosen a tiny cake and honey, and then their hospitablefriend insisted on both children tasting every other dish on the table,which they had to do, though in one or two cases they tried to hide howvery little they took. The moss jelly was decidedly peculiar!
'Aren't you going to eat anything yourselves?' Leonore inquired. Thegnome ladies gave a wail of disapproval--such a thing was quite contraryto their ideas of good manners.
'Never, never would we be so rude,' they said. And the children,remembering the fairy's warning, said no more on this point, for fear ofoffending even these meek little women.
But they felt very curious to hear more of the ways and customs of theirunderground friends.
'Do you have all you eat sent down from our country, or from Fairyland?'asked Leonore in a very polite tone.
'Oh dear, no,' was the reply. 'Just occasionally. We have plenty ofsupplies of our own.'
'Do tell us what,' said Hildegarde.
Their hostess hesitated a little.
'You might not appreciate our national dishes,' she said. 'We are veryfond of stewed frogs, and find them most nourishing, and a good fat toadmakes an excellent dish.'
Even politeness could not keep back an exclamation of horror from thevisitors, though they tried to smother it.
'Ugh!' said Hildegarde with a shiver.
'Ugh!' said Leonore. But Hildegarde went on speaking so quickly, that itis to be hoped the gnome ladies did not hear the 'ughs.' 'I think,' shesaid, getting up from the ground as she spoke, 'I think we must begoing--don't you, Leonore?'
'Yes,' said Leonore eagerly, 'I am sure we must.' And when they werealone together, each owned to the other that she felt as if there mustbe toads and frogs all about! 'We thank you very much for yourkindness,' they went on, 'and please tell the--the gentlemen that thecollation was excellent. And we should like to know the nearest wayhome, if you will kindly show it us.'
The little lady gnome got up from her seat and curtsied graciously. Sodid all the others, though the effect in their case was a little spoiltby the tucked-in baby gnome under each arm. Apparently the lady who haddone the honours of the feast was the only one to whom it was permittedto deposit _her_ baby on the floor!
She waved her hand towards the opposite side of the square, or circle ofhouses.
'You will have no difficulty in finding your way,' she said. 'Allarrangements have been made.'
She did not press them to stay longer, so they bowed in return, mostpolitely of course, and went off in the direction pointed out.
'Perhaps,' said Leonore, 'they are afraid of the gnome gentlemen cominghome to supper and scolding them for having the collation outside. Ishould not like to be a gnome lady.'
'Nor should I,' Hildegarde agreed. 'Certainly the collation could nothave been _indoors_. But I should have liked to peep into thehouses--wouldn't you, Leonore? And I _almost_ think I should have likedto pick up one of the gnome babies, though they _are_ rather froggy.'
Leonore shuddered.
'Don't speak of frogs or toads,' she said, and she hastened on morerapidly. 'Do let us get away quickly,' she added. 'I have got such afeeling that we shall be treading on some.'
Hildegarde laughed at her.
'Nonsense,' she said, 'they couldn't live on this dry gravel or sand, orwhatever it is. I expect the gnomes find them where the little streamstrickle down. Oh, Leonore, I do hope we shall find our way! This pathlooks just exactly like the one we came in by.'
And so it did. But they had not far to go before all misgivings were setat rest by the unexpected appearance of a very fine gray donkey standingon the path before them. He was handsomely caparisoned, and a pannierhung at each side, large enough for a child of our little girls' size tosit in comfortably; and if any doubt remained in their minds as to whatthey were meant to do, it was soon put to flight, for as they came closeup to the donkey, they saw that one pannier was labelled 'Hildegarde,'and the other 'Leonore.'
'Oh, what fun!' they exclaimed. 'What nice arrangements the gnomes make!This time they have not forgotten how big we are. What a beautifuldonkey!'
A very quiet donkey too, apparently. He stood perfectly still while thelittle girls mounted into their places, which was all very well, but heshowed no signs of moving after they were settled either, though theyshook the reins and begged him to gee-up!
Suddenly Hildegarde turned to Leonore.
'Leonore,' she said, 'I don't believe he's a live donkey! Feel him--he'squite cold--he's like the magic horse in the _Arabian Nights_, who movedby a spring. How can we find out how to make him go?'
They had no need to do so after all. Almost before Hildegarde finishedspeaking, a short shrill whistle was heard, and off the same instantstarted the donkey!
'Up,' I should say--rather than 'off.' For, greatly to the children'sastonishment, they felt themselves rising from the ground. Up, up, upthey went, the light growing gradually dimmer and dimmer, till but for around spot which gradually appeared white, high above them, they wouldhave been in total darkness.
'Hildegarde,' whispered Leonore, 'are you frightened? It's a nicefeeling, going up so fast, isn't it, but I wonder where we are goingto?'
The star of white light overhead grew larger; they became able todistinguish that they were in a kind of shaft; it was not cold oruncomfortable in any way, and the panniers in which
they sat were easilycushioned.
'I believe,' began Hildegarde, but she did not finish her sentence.There came another whistle, softer and longer than the first, andsomething--was it a gentle hand, or the touch of a bird's featheredwing?--they could not tell--made both little girls close their eyes fora moment. And when they opened them again--where were they?
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