The Cuckoo Clock

by Mrs. Molesworth

  CHAPTER IV.

  THE COUNTRY OF THE NODDING MANDARINS.

  "We're all nodding, nid-nid-nodding."

  _How_ she managed it she never knew; but, somehow or other, it _was_managed. She seemed to slide up the chain just as easily as in a generalway she would have slidden down, only without any disagreeableanticipation of a bump at the end of the journey. And when she got tothe top how wonderfully different it looked from anything she could haveexpected! The doors stood open, and Griselda found them quite bigenough, or herself quite small enough--which it was she couldn't tell,and as it was all a matter of fancy she decided not to trouble toinquire--to pass through quite comfortably.

  And inside there was the most charming little snuggery imaginable. Itwas something like a saloon railway carriage--it seemed to be all linedand carpeted and everything, with rich mossy red velvet; there was alittle round table in the middle and two arm-chairs, on one of which satthe cuckoo--"quite like other people," thought Griselda toherself--while the other, as he pointed out to Griselda by a little nod,was evidently intended for her.

  "Thank you," said she, sitting down on the chair as she spoke.

  "Are you comfortable?" inquired the cuckoo.

  "Quite," replied Griselda, looking about her with great satisfaction."Are all cuckoo clocks like this when you get up inside them?" sheinquired. "I can't think how there's room for this dear little placebetween the clock and the wall. Is it a hole cut out of the wall onpurpose, cuckoo?"

  "Hush!" said the cuckoo, "we've got other things to talk about. First,shall I lend you one of my mantles? You may feel cold."

  "I don't just now," replied Griselda; "but perhaps I _might_."

  She looked at her little bare feet as she spoke, and wondered why _they_weren't cold, for it was very chilblainy weather.

  The cuckoo stood up, and with one of his claws reached from a cornerwhere it was hanging a cloak which Griselda had not before noticed. Forit was hanging wrong side out, and the lining was red velvet, very likewhat the sides of the little room were covered with, so it was no wondershe had not noticed it.

  Had it been hanging the _right_ side out she must have done so; thisside was so very wonderful!

  It was all feathers--feathers of every shade and colour, butbeautifully worked in, somehow, so as to lie quite smoothly and evenly,one colour melting away into another like those in a prism, so that youcould hardly tell where one began and another ended.

  "What a _lovely_ cloak!" said Griselda, wrapping it round her andfeeling even more comfortable than before, as she watched the rays ofthe little lamp in the roof--I think I was forgetting to tell you thatthe cuckoo's boudoir was lighted by a dear little lamp set into the redvelvet roof like a pearl in a ring--playing softly on the brilliantcolours of the feather mantle.

  "It's better than lovely," said the cuckoo, "as you shall see. Now,Griselda," he continued, in the tone of one coming to business--"now,Griselda, let us talk."

  "We have been talking," said Griselda, "ever so long. I am verycomfortable. When you say 'let us talk' like that, it makes me forgetall I wanted to say. Just let me sit still and say whatever comes intomy head."

  "That won't do," said the cuckoo; "we must have a plan of action."

  "A what?" said Griselda.

  "You see you _have_ a great deal to learn," said the cuckootriumphantly. "You don't understand what I say."

  "But I didn't come up here to learn," said Griselda; "I can do that downthere;" and she nodded her head in the direction of the ante-room table."I want to play."

  "Just so," said the cuckoo; "that's what I want to talk about. What doyou call 'play'--blindman's-buff and that sort of thing?"

  "No," said Griselda, considering. "I'm getting rather too big for thatkind of play. Besides, cuckoo, you and I alone couldn't have much fun atblindman's-buff; there'd be only me to catch you or you to catch me."

  "Oh, we could easily get more," said the cuckoo. "The mandarins would bepleased to join."

  "The mandarins!" repeated Griselda. "Why, cuckoo, they're not alive! Howcould they play?"

  The cuckoo looked at her gravely for a minute, then shook his head.

  "You have a _great_ deal to learn," he said solemnly. "Don't you knowthat _everything's_ alive?"

  "No," said Griselda, "I don't; and I don't know what you mean, and Idon't think I want to know what you mean. I want to talk about playing."

  "Well," said the cuckoo, "talk."

  "What I call playing," pursued Griselda, "is--I have thought about itnow, you see--is being amused. If you will amuse me, cuckoo, I willcount that you are playing with me."

  "How shall I amuse you?" inquired he.

  "Oh, that's for you to find out!" exclaimed Griselda. "You might tellme fairy stories, you know: if you're a fairy you should know lots;or--oh yes, of course that would be far nicer--if you are a fairy youmight take me with you to fairyland."

  Again the cuckoo shook his head.

  "That," said he, "I cannot do."

  "Why not?" said Griselda. "Lots of children have been there."

  "I doubt it," said the cuckoo. "_Some_ may have been, but not lots. Andsome may have thought they had been there who hadn't really been thereat all. And as to those who have been there, you may be sure of onething--they were not _taken_, they found their own way. No one ever was_taken_ to fairyland--to the real fairyland. They may have been taken tothe neighbouring countries, but not to fairyland itself."

  "And how is one ever to find one's own way there?" asked Griselda.

  "That I cannot tell you either," replied the cuckoo. "There are manyroads there; you may find yours some day. And if ever you do find it, besure you keep what you see of it well swept and clean, and then you maysee further after a while. Ah, yes, there are many roads and many doorsinto fairyland!"

  "Doors!" cried Griselda. "Are there any doors into fairyland in thishouse?"

  "Several," said the cuckoo; "but don't waste your time looking for themat present. It would be no use."

  "Then how will you amuse me?" inquired Griselda, in a ratherdisappointed tone.

  "Don't you care to go anywhere except to fairyland?" said the cuckoo.

  "Oh yes, there are lots of places I wouldn't mind seeing. Not geographysort of places--it would be just like lessons to go to India and Africaand all those places--but _queer_ places, like the mines where thegoblins make diamonds and precious stones, and the caves down under thesea where the mermaids live. And--oh, I've just thought--now I'm so niceand little, I _would_ like to go all over the mandarins' palace in thegreat saloon."

  "That can be easily managed," said the cuckoo; "but--excuse me for aninstant," he exclaimed suddenly. He gave a spring forward anddisappeared. Then Griselda heard his voice outside the doors, "Cuckoo,cuckoo, cuckoo." It was three o'clock.

  The doors opened again to let him through, and he re-settled himself onhis chair. "As I was saying," he went on, "nothing could be easier. Butthat palace, as you call it, has an entrance on the other side, as wellas the one you know."

  "Another door, do you mean?" said Griselda. "How funny! Does it gothrough the wall? And where does it lead to?"

  "It leads," replied the cuckoo, "it leads to the country of the NoddingMandarins."

  "_What_ fun!" exclaimed Griselda, clapping her hands. "Cuckoo, do let usgo there. How can we get down? You can fly, but must I slide down thechain again?"

  "Oh dear, no," said the cuckoo, "by no means. You have only to stretchout your feather mantle, flap it as if it was wings--so"--he flapped hisown wings encouragingly--"wish, and there you'll be."

  "Where?" said Griselda bewilderedly.

  "Wherever you wish to be, of course," said the cuckoo. "Are you ready?Here goes."

  "Wait--wait a moment," cried Griselda. "Where am I to wish to be?"

  "Bless the child!" exclaimed the cuckoo. "Where _do_ you wish to be? Yousaid you wanted to visit the country of the Nodding Mandarins."

  "Yes; but am I to wish first to be in the palace in the grea
t saloon?"

  "Certainly," replied the cuckoo. "That is the entrance to Mandarin Land,and you said you would like to see through it. So--you're surely readynow?"

  "A thought has just struck me," said Griselda. "How will you know whato'clock it is, so as to come back in time to tell the next hour? Myaunts will get into such a fright if you go wrong again! Are you sure weshall have time to go to the mandarins' country to-night?"

  "Time!" repeated the cuckoo; "what is time? Ah, Griselda, you have a_very_ great deal to learn! What do you mean by time?"

  "I don't know," replied Griselda, feeling rather snubbed. "Being slow orquick--I suppose that's what I mean."

  "And what is slow, and what is quick?" said the cuckoo. "_All_ a matterof fancy! If everything that's been done since the world was made tillnow, was done over again in five minutes, you'd never know thedifference."

  MANDARINS NODDING.]

  "Oh, cuckoo, I wish you wouldn't!" cried poor Griselda; "you're worsethan sums, you do so puzzle me. It's like what you said about nothingbeing big or little, only it's worse. Where would all the days and hoursbe if there was nothing but minutes? Oh, cuckoo, you said you'd amuseme, and you do nothing but puzzle me."

  "It was your own fault. You wouldn't get ready," said the cuckoo."_Now_, here goes! Flap and wish."

  Griselda flapped and wished. She felt a sort of rustle in the air, thatwas all--then she found herself standing with the cuckoo in front of theChinese cabinet, the door of which stood open, while the mandarins oneach side, nodding politely, seemed to invite them to enter. Griseldahesitated.

  "Go on," said the cuckoo, patronizingly; "ladies first."

  Griselda went on. To her surprise, inside the cabinet it was quitelight, though where the light came from that illuminated all the queercorners and recesses and streamed out to the front, where stood themandarins, she could not discover.

  The "palace" was not quite as interesting as she had expected. Therewere lots of little rooms in it opening on to balconies commanding, nodoubt, a splendid view of the great saloon; there were ever so manylittle staircases leading to more little rooms and balconies; but it allseemed empty and deserted.

  "I don't care for it," said Griselda, stopping short at last; "it's allthe same, and there's nothing to see. I thought my aunts kept ever somany beautiful things in here, and there's nothing."

  "Come along, then," said the cuckoo. "I didn't expect you'd care for thepalace, as you called it, much. Let us go out the other way."

  He hopped down a sort of little staircase near which they were standing,and Griselda followed him willingly enough. At the foot they foundthemselves in a vestibule, much handsomer than the entrance at the otherside, and the cuckoo, crossing it, lifted one of his claws and touched aspring in the wall. Instantly a pair of large doors flew open in themiddle, revealing to Griselda the prettiest and most curious sight shehad ever seen.

  A flight of wide shallow steps led down from this doorway into a long,long avenue bordered by stiffly growing trees, from the branches ofwhich hung innumerable lamps of every colour, making a perfect networkof brilliance as far as the eye could reach.

  "Oh, how lovely!" cried Griselda, clapping her hands. "It'll be likewalking along a rainbow. Cuckoo, come quick."

  "Stop," said the cuckoo; "we've a good way to go. There's no need towalk. Palanquin!"

  He flapped his wings, and instantly a palanquin appeared at the foot ofthe steps. It was made of carved ivory, and borne by fourChinese-looking figures with pigtails and bright-coloured jackets. Afeeling came over Griselda that she was dreaming, or else that she hadseen this palanquin before. She hesitated. Suddenly she gave a littlejump of satisfaction.

  "I know," she exclaimed. "It's exactly like the one that stands under aglass shade on Lady Lavander's drawing-room mantelpiece. I wonder if itis the very one? Fancy me being able to get _into_ it!"

  She looked at the four bearers. Instantly they all nodded.

  "What do they mean?" asked Griselda, turning to the cuckoo.

  "Get in," he replied.

  "Yes, I'm just going to get in," she said; "but what do _they_ mean whenthey nod at me like that?"

  "They mean, of course, what I tell you--'Get in,'" said the cuckoo.

  "Why don't they say so, then?" persisted Griselda, getting in, however,as she spoke.

  "Griselda, you have a _very_ great----" began the cuckoo, but Griseldainterrupted him.

  "Cuckoo," she exclaimed, "if you say that again, I'll jump out of thepalanquin and run away home to bed. Of course I've a great deal tolearn--that's why I like to ask questions about everything I see. Now,tell me where we are going."

  "In the first place," said the cuckoo, "are you comfortable?"

  "Very," said Griselda, settling herself down among the cushions.

  It was a change from the cuckoo's boudoir. There were no chairs orseats, only a number of very, _very_ soft cushions covered with greensilk. There were green silk curtains all round, too, which you coulddraw or not as you pleased, just by touching a spring. Griselda strokedthe silk gently. It was not "fruzzley" silk, if you know what thatmeans; it did not make you feel as if your nails wanted cutting, or asif all the rough places on your skin were being rubbed up the wrong way;its softness was like that of a rose or pansy petal.

  "What nice silk!" said Griselda. "I'd like a dress of it. I nevernoticed that the palanquin was lined so nicely," she continued, "for Isuppose it _is_ the one from Lady Lavander's mantelpiece? There couldn'tbe two so exactly like each other."

  The cuckoo gave a sort of whistle.

  "What a goose you are, my dear!" he exclaimed. "Excuse me," hecontinued, seeing that Griselda looked rather offended; "I didn't meanto hurt your feelings, but you won't let me say the other thing, youknow. The palanquin from Lady Lavander's! I should think not. You mightas well mistake one of those horrible paper roses that Dorcas sticks inher vases for one of your aunt's Gloires de Dijon! The palanquin fromLady Lavander's--a clumsy human imitation not worth looking at!"

  "I didn't know," said Griselda humbly. "Do they make such beautifulthings in Mandarin Land?"

  "Of course," said the cuckoo.

  Griselda sat silent for a minute or two, but very soon she recovered herspirits.

  "Will you please tell me where we are going?" she asked again.

  "You'll see directly," said the cuckoo; "not that I mind telling you.There's to be a grand reception at one of the palaces to-night. Ithought you'd like to assist at it. It'll give you some idea of what apalace is like. By-the-by, can you dance?"

  "A little," replied Griselda.

  "Ah, well, I dare say you will manage. I've ordered a court dress foryou. It will be all ready when we get there."

  "Thank you," said Griselda.

  In a minute or two the palanquin stopped. The cuckoo got out, andGriselda followed him.

  She found that they were at the entrance to a _very_ much grander palacethan the one in her aunt's saloon. The steps leading up to the door werevery wide and shallow, and covered with a gold embroidered carpet, which_looked_ as if it would be prickly to her bare feet, but which, on thecontrary, when she trod upon it, felt softer than the softest moss. Shecould see very little besides the carpet, for at each side of the stepsstood rows and rows of mandarins, all something like, but a great dealgrander than, the pair outside her aunt's cabinet; and as the cuckoohopped and Griselda walked up the staircase, they all, in turn, row byrow, began solemnly to nod. It gave them the look of a field of veryhigh grass, through which, any one passing, leaves for the moment atrail, till all the heads bob up again into their places.

  "What do they mean?" whispered Griselda.

  "It's a royal salute," said the cuckoo.

  "A salute!" said Griselda. "I thought that meant kissing or guns."

  "Hush!" said the cuckoo, for by this time they had arrived at the top ofthe staircase; "you must be dressed now."

  Two mandariny-looking young ladies, with porcelain faces andthree-cornered head-dresses, stepped f
orward and led Griselda into asmall ante-room, where lay waiting for her the most magnificent dressyou ever saw. But how _do_ you think they dressed her? It was all bynodding. They nodded to the blue and silver embroidered jacket, and in amoment it had fitted itself on to her. They nodded to the splendidscarlet satin skirt, made very short in front and very long behind, andbefore Griselda knew where she was, it was adjusted quite correctly.They nodded to the head-dress, and the sashes, and the necklaces andbracelets, and forthwith they all arranged themselves. Last of all, theynodded to the dearest, sweetest little pair of high-heeled shoesimaginable--all silver, and blue, and gold, and scarlet, and everythingmixed up together, _only_ they were rather a stumpy shape about thetoes, and Griselda's bare feet were encased in them, and, to hersurprise, quite comfortably so.

  "They don't hurt me a bit," she said aloud; "yet they didn't look theleast the shape of my foot."

  But her attendants only nodded; and turning round, she saw the cuckoowaiting for her. He did not speak either, rather to her annoyance, butgravely led the way through one grand room after another to the grandestof all, where the entertainment was evidently just about to begin. Andeverywhere there were mandarins, rows and rows, who all set to worknodding as fast as Griselda appeared. She began to be rather tired ofroyal salutes, and was glad when, at last, in profound silence, theprocession, consisting of the cuckoo and herself, and about half a dozen"mandarins," came to a halt before a kind of dais, or raised seat, atthe end of the hall.

  Upon this dais stood a chair--a throne of some kind, Griselda supposedit to be--and upon this was seated the grandest and gravest personageshe had yet seen.

  "Is he the king of the mandarins?" she whispered. But the cuckoo did notreply; and before she had time to repeat the question, the very grandand grave person got down from his seat, and coming towards her, offeredher his hand, at the same time nodding--first once, then two or threetimes together, then once again. Griselda seemed to know what he meant.He was asking her to dance.

  "Thank you," she said. "I can't dance _very_ well, but perhaps you won'tmind."

  The king, if that was his title, took not the slightest notice of herreply, but nodded again--once, then two or three times together, thenonce alone, just as before. Griselda did not know what to do, whensuddenly she felt something poking her head. It was the cuckoo--he hadlifted his claw, and was tapping her head to make her nod. So shenodded--once, twice together, then once--that appeared to be enough. Theking nodded once again; an invisible band suddenly struck up theloveliest music, and off they set to the places of honour reserved forthem in the centre of the room, where all the mandarins were assembling.

  What a dance that was! It began like a minuet and ended something likethe hay-makers. Griselda had not the least idea what the figures orsteps were, but it did not matter. If she did not know, her shoes orsomething about her did; for she got on famously. The music waslovely--"so the mandarins can't be deaf, though they are dumb," thoughtGriselda, "which is one good thing about them." The king seemed to enjoyit as much as she did, though he never smiled or laughed; any one couldhave seen he liked it by the way he whirled and twirled himself about.And between the figures, when they stopped to rest for a little,Griselda got on very well too. There was no conversation, or rather, ifthere was, it was all nodding.

  So Griselda nodded too, and though she did not know what her nods meant,the king seemed to understand and be quite pleased; and when they hadnodded enough, the music struck up again, and off they set, harder thanbefore.

  And every now and then tiny little mandariny boys appeared with traysfilled with the most delicious fruits and sweetmeats. Griselda was not agreedy child, but for once in her life she really _did_ feel rather so.I cannot possibly describe these delicious things; just think ofwhatever in all your life was the most "lovely" thing you ever eat, andyou may be sure they tasted like that. Only the cuckoo would not eatany, which rather distressed Griselda. He walked about among thedancers, apparently quite at home; and the mandarins did not seem at allsurprised to see him, though he did look rather odd, being nearly, ifnot quite, as big as any of them. Griselda hoped he was enjoyinghimself, considering that she had to thank him for all the fun _she_ washaving, but she felt a little conscience-stricken when she saw that hewouldn't eat anything.

  "Cuckoo," she whispered; she dared not talk out loud--it would haveseemed so remarkable, you see. "Cuckoo," she said, very, very softly, "Iwish you would eat something. You'll be so tired and hungry."

  "No, thank you," said the cuckoo; and you can't think how pleasedGriselda was at having succeeded in making him speak. "It isn't my way.I hope you are enjoying yourself?"

  "Oh, _very_ much," said Griselda. "I----"

  "Hush!" said the cuckoo; and looking up, Griselda saw a number ofmandarins, in a sort of procession, coming their way.

  When they got up to the cuckoo they set to work nodding, two or three ata time, more energetically than usual. When they stopped, the cuckoonodded in return, and then hopped off towards the middle of the room.

  "They're very fond of good music, you see," he whispered as he passedGriselda; "and they don't often get it."