Sara had a distressed feeling that this was rather a weak ending, butnobody else seemed to notice it; indeed, several of the Fractions wereso incensed at the bold threat that two or three of them called out,"Shoot him at sunrise!" The Greatest Common Divisor, however, merelygave him a savage and contemptuous glance over his tear-mug, as muchas to say that he would annihilate him when it was quite convenient.
In a few moments they were again entirely absorbed in their drinkingand carousing, and then Pirlaps cautiously touched Schlorge on thearm. "Let's have a council of war," he said, in a very low voice,drawing him a little to one side. "I have an idea. Where shall we go?"
"Better come down to the Smithy," said Schlorge. "They haven'tdiscovered it yet."
Very quietly then, while the Fractions were busy drinking, Schlorgeand Pirlaps and Avrillia and Sara and the Snimmy and the Snimmy's wifeslipped out of the Garden and down the path to the Dimplesmithy. Theydidn't think it necessary to tell the Plynck, who was too much crushedto be of use, or the Teacup, for whom they dreaded the slightestshock. The Echo of the Plynck might have been useful, only she wasstill frozen into the pool.
The farther they got from the Garden the less blighted and the morenatural everything looked; and by the time they reached the road, theywould not have suspected, from the look of the country, thatdestruction was lurking so near.
When they reached the Dimplesmithy, they sent the Snimmy to sniff outthe neighborhood carefully with his debilitating nose, to see if therewere any spies about; and when he returned, Pirlaps carefully unfoldedhis plan.
"I am convinced," he said earnestly, "from what I have observed thismorning, that Poetry will be absolutely fatal to these hatefulintruders who have descended upon us. The only question in my mind is,How shall we apply it? After thinking about it most carefully, I haveworked out a tentative plan. Avrillia, I am sure, can furnish usplenty of ammunition." (Sara, glancing admiringly at Avrillia, saw thethrilling look of high resolve that shone in her face.) "And Schlorgewill have to make us two or three more pairs of bellows. Are youstrong enough to wield a pair, Sara?" he asked. Even in the stress ofthis dire moment he spoke so kindly that she loved him more than ever;and she told him proudly that she was sure she could. Schlorge hadalready dragged down from a shelf three extra pairs of bellows--onebrand-new one and two old ones; and he was busy at his forge mendingand putting them in order. All the while, however, he was listeninganxiously to Pirlaps.
"The only part I haven't been able to work out," said Pirlaps, with aworried look, "is this: How can we reduce the Poetry to a powderedform fast enough to be effective?"
This was a problem indeed; and everybody thought deeply anddesperately. Avrillia, Sara could see, was already so absorbed inmaking the poems that she didn't even hear; but it was an agonizingmoment for the rest of them. It did not last long, however; for theSnimmy's wife stepped forward and said triumphantly, in her deep,cross voice, "My coffee-mill!"
"Ah, these practical people!" cried Pirlaps, rubbing his handsdelightedly. "Now for our organization. Avrillia, have you plenty ofrose-leaves?"
"An extra supply," answered Avrillia, raptly. "Yassuh filled theleaf-closet only yesterday. How fortunate!"
"Then the problem of transportation," said Pirlaps, greatly pleased."There must be no break--"
"The Gunki will bring 'em," said Schlorge, decisively. "Here, you!" heshouted; and a swarm of Gunki came tumbling out from under theadjacent bushes. "Bring your coal-scuttles!" he shouted; and eachGunkus scuttled back, reappearing in a moment with the desiredreceptacle.
"Good!" said Pirlaps. "Stand at attention until I give you furtherorders." And each Gunkus stood perfectly still and straight, holdinghis coal-scuttle by the handle between his teeth, and dropping hiseyes into it. They hit the bottom of the scuttle with a ringing,martial sound.
"Now," said Pirlaps, "how many hands for the bellows? Avrillia will bebusy writing poems; Mrs. Snimmy will be busy grinding them. Thatleaves Schlorge, Sara, Mr. Snimmy and myself. Four pairs ofbellows--how fortunate!" He then explained to the Gunki that they wereto march straight to Avrillia's balcony and form an unbroken line fromthere to the Snimmy's wife's coffee-mill, on the front porch of theprose-bush; and that they were to pass the scuttles full of loadedrose-leaves in a steady stream, as fast as they could. The last Gunkuswas to empty the scuttles into the coffee-mill.
In a very short time they had this plan in execution. When theyslipped back into the Garden they found that the Fractions had beendrinking so heavily that many of them were snoring loudly under themultiplication tables; and the rest were carousing so uproariouslythat they took no notice whatever of the preparations for theiroverthrow. The Snimmy's wife took her station grimly at thecoffee-mill; Pirlaps, Schlorge, Sara and the Snimmy grouped themselvesabout her, and in a very few minutes the first scuttleful of poemsarrived. The first Gunkus emptied them into the mill; Mrs. Snimmybegan to grind violently; the gunners, with hands trembling withexcitement, loaded their bellows. Even in this terrible moment Saracould not help noticing what a lovely stuff the powder was--a blue andsilver dust, with a delicate fragrance like sachet powder. Surely itcould not harm anybody! She felt a sinking of the heart; but she kepther eyes on Pirlaps, and his splendid, confident bearing helped toreassure her. And when he said, "A--B--C!" they all firedsimultaneously. And oh, glorious success! It was clear that thepoem-dust was absolutely deadly to the enemy. At the first shot theLeast Common Multiple and a number of privates fell out of theirchairs, as dead as if they had been caught between the covers of anarithmetic! Moreover, the poem-dust that filled the air seemed to tendto stupefy the others; so that, though there was a terrible uproar anda desperate scramble for weapons, victory for the defenders wascertain from the start. There was only one defect in the organization;one thing had escaped Pirlaps' wonderful foresight. There was noefficient way to get the powder from the coffee-mill to the bellows;and in the loading much time was wasted and much ammunition spilled.While Pirlaps was looking about him with great anxiety, trying tothink of some way to remedy the trouble, the little Teacup camefluttering tremulously down from above. "Let me do it!" she cried; andwhile they all looked on in admiration (though with only one eyeapiece, since the other was busy aiming at the enemy) she proceeded toload one pair of bellows after another, with the utmost nicety andplenty of poetry-powder. A little was spilled, to be sure, because shetrembled so terribly; still, it was an enormous improvement, and theyall praised and congratulated the Teacup.
"Ah, these sheltered women!" said Pirlaps. "How an emergency doesbring them out!"
The battle must have raged for nearly an hour; but at the end of thattime there was not so much as a One-Twenty-Second left alive. TheGreatest Common Divisor, as befitted his rank, was the last to succumb;and when he went down the defenders of the Garden threw down theirweapons and began tossing their shoes into the air and shaking eachothers' hands and talking all at once. The Gunki passed the word downthe line to Avrillia, who presently came floating in, with her wildeyes shining and her pale-gold hair rumpled, and her goldenswan's-quill still in her hand; and everybody fell upon her withcongratulations. But, indeed, everybody was congratulating everybodyelse, and calling him or her the hero or heroine of the day. Schlorgewas doubly cordial to Avrillia because he felt that he hadunderestimated her; and for the same reason Pirlaps was particularlydelighted with the Teacup and the Snimmy's wife--whom, to tell thetruth, he had always considered very ordinary women. The Teacupfluttered and laughed nervously, murmuring, whenever anybody praisedher, "If my handle hadn't been so consanguineous--" But the Snimmy'swife merely smiled grimly, as much as to say that she had alwaysthought they would all come to their senses sooner or later.
Presently the Snimmy, who had been sniffing about the fallen invaders,suggested, "What's to be done with the remains, begging everybody'spardon?"
"Don't make such long speeches, Snimmy," said his wife, "and don't beganything. Didn't you blow as hard as any of 'em?"
But Schlorge was already
deeply interested in the problem. He beganwalking around among them, now and then turning one over with hisfoot. Of course there had never been an ounce of flesh and blood amongthem; they were as dry as bones--which, indeed, they much resembled.
"I could make them into first-class rules," he said, picking up thewaist-line of an Improper Fraction and snapping it easily across hisknee. "They'd keep the Plynck supplied a whole winter."
The Plynck! In the excitement of victory they had all momentarilyforgotten the Plynck, though, when the fight was hottest, it had beenthe sight of her tragic drooping plumes among the blighted leaves thathad nerved them to redoubled effort. Now Avrillia stepped softly underthe tree and called gently, "O Plynck, dear Plynck! They're all dead,and Schlorge is going to make them into rules for you to break!"
A shiver ran through the soft, rosy plumes of the Plynck; she openedher terrified eyes, and when she saw that the good tidings was indeedtrue, she began to shine and smile down upon them again like aconvalescent rainbow. The Gunki had already formed a line toSchlorge's smithy, and were briskly sending scuttlefuls of the hatefulfragments down the line.
"I--I'm sorry I was so useless," apologized the Plynck with deephumility, looking down upon her faithful friends. But they one and allbegan to protest that she had not been needed in the least. "It wasfor you as we done it, ma'am," Schlorge assured her, looking up intoher tree with his shoe in his hand; and the poor Snimmy was soovercome by emotion that he was compelled to lie down at the foot ofthe Gugollaph-tree, with his debilitating nose on his little cold paws,and sniffle frankly.
"But how will they get back the lovely grass and flowers?" asked Saraof Pirlaps, softly. Her friends were saved; but her Garden stilllooked sadly afflicted.
"Well, perhaps it will snow," said Pirlaps, hopefully.
"Snow?" asked Sara. "Will that bring the grass and leaves back?"
"Why, certainly, Sara," said Pirlaps, looking down at her with hiskind, amused smile. Pirlaps was often amused at her ignorance; but hewas always so kind about it that Sara didn't mind at all.
The Garden of the Plynck Page 7
