"Yes," said Ben.
"Yes," said Tom.
"Okay," said Lindy.
"Bravo." The professor beamed. "I have three of the bravest friends in the world. I am tremendously proud of you. Give me your scrappy caps. I don't want you wandering around with those 'on your heads. Go home now. Sleep well. Don't be afraid. I will see you early tomorrow."
The children wondered how on earth they were going to face their parents. How would they stop themselves from talking about their fantastic adventure? To their surprise it turned out to be much easier than they anticipated.
When they arrived home they found their mother packing suitcases for the visit to Grandma. Mr. Potter was busy making last-minute phone calls. Ethel was preparing dinner. Nobody paid any particular attention to the children.
"I want you to start dinner without us," Mrs. Potter said. "Daddy and I still have lots to do."
"What time do you go, Mummy?" Lindy wanted to know.
"We're leaving tomorrow morning. We'll be back a week from Sunday."
"Did you tell Ethel we'd be visiting the professor?" Tom asked.
Mrs. Potter smiled. "You and your professor. That's all you talk about these days. Yes, I did speak to Ethel. It's perfectly all right."
The children went downstairs to dinner. They were not very hungry and they toyed with their food as they talked quietly together.
Mrs. Potter would have been very surprised had she been able to hear the conversation. The children went over every detail of their amazing visit to Whangdoodleland. They talked about the terrible Sidewinders, the "oily" Prock and the beautiful Whiffle Bird. They thought with pleasure of the beautiful flowers and trees, and the incredible singing river. Uppermost in their minds was the fact that tomorrow was the beginning of their school holiday and they were going to visit Whangdoodleland again. Each child wondered what fresh adventures the day would bring.
FOUR
When the children arrived at his house, the professor wasted no time in getting down to essentials. He put them through a grueling set of warming-up exercises that demanded every ounce of concentration they had. Before giving them the scrappy caps again he spoke once more of the need for caution. "I know that I repeat myself. But please be alert and watchful and stay close to me."
The children were eager to begin. Forgotten were the terrors of yesterday's adventure. Whangdoodleland was a place of beauty and wonder and they longed to be there.
They felt no fear as they donned the scrappy caps, welcoming the tumbling sensation that told them they were once again on their way.
The brilliant light surrounded them and they found themselves standing at the edge of the Golden River.
"No Sidewinders," said Lindy with relief.
"None at all," said the professor happily. "Come along."
They walked by the river. It sang its joyous song and today the birds were singing too. The children saw bright flashes of color as wonderful feathered creatures flew among the purple and mauve foliage. There was a special feeling to this second day in Whangdoodleland.
"We will head towards Ploy," declared the professor. "But we will go by way of the river."
"What's Ploy?" Tom asked.
"It's a place—kind of rocky and interesting country. You'll see."
"What's this part of the country called, right here?" asked Ben.
"This region is called the Blandlands. Because it is so flat, you see."
Lindy's nose was twitching. "I smell baked apples," she said. She saw a tree covered with white blossoms. She looked up at the professor. "It's the tree, huh?" He nodded and she sighed, "I'll never get used to this place."
"Professor, the palace looks nearer today. It's bigger and sort of different," Ben said.
The children looked at the shining edifice on top of the distant mountains. "It's probably the angle of the sun," said the professor. "It's quite a long way away, believe me."
Lindy made an impatient sound. "Oooh, I can't wait to meet the Whangdoodle." She kicked at a brightly colored stone on the path and it bounced and rolled ahead of her. It hit a rock and cracked apart. A beautiful jewel-like flower grew out of it.
Lindy was about to examine it when Tom said in a thunderstruck voice, "Look at that!" He pointed towards the river, and the children gasped.
At the river's edge, rocking gently in the water, was a beautiful red barge. It had a burnt-orange sail, a soaring mast, glowing teak decks and a magnificent ship's wheel. A polished brass handrail encircled the boat. Painted on the transom in bright letters were the words The Jolly Boat.
"Holy cow!" said Ben. "Do you suppose we could go aboard?"
"I don't see why not," said the professor.
The children raced up the gangplank.
"Look at the ship's bell!" yelled Tom, and he rang it loudly. It produced a wonderful melodious sound. "But who does this belong to?" asked Ben.
"This is the royal barge. It belongs to the Whangdoodle," the professor explained.
It was easy to tell that the barge was a master shipbuilder's creation. It was exquisitely fitted together and varnished to perfection. The companionways were gleaming white. Silk line was coiled in neat circles fore and aft and amidships. The cleats and davits and winches were highly polished brass. The prow bore a beautiful carved figurehead: a lady with her head flung back and hair streaming in the wind. Beneath a striped canopy a table and chairs were laid out with a bright tablecloth and comfortable cushions.
The professor said with enthusiasm, "Well, shall we get under way?"
"You mean we can go for a ride?" asked Tom incredulously.
"Of course. Now, which of you knows a good joke?"
The children looked puzzled.
"Come on," cried the professor. "This is The Jolly Boat. We need a joke to get started."
"I know a joke," said Lindy. "It goes like this. How did the telephone propose to the lady?"
"How?" asked the professor.
"By giving her a ring."
"Boy, Lindy." Tom spoke in a disgusted voice. "That's pathetic."
"I was only trying to help," she said.
The Jolly Boat trembled.
"Well, that's a start," encouraged the professor. "Tom, what about you?"
"Er—what sings, has four legs, is yellow and weighs one thousand pounds?"
"What does?"
"Two five-hundred-pound canaries."
The Jolly Boat began to shake and rumble. The professor laughed.
"One more joke," he said, "and we'll be on our way."
"Why did the lobster blush?" yelled Ben. "Because he saw the salad dressing!" everyone yelled back.
The barge heaved and very slowly began to move.
"Terrific," shouted the professor. He ran to the ship's wheel to steer the lovely craft away from the shore. "Keep it up, keep it up," he encouraged.
"I can't think of anything funny," said Ben desperately.
"What happens to ducks when they fly upside down?" Tom cried.
"Well?" The professor chuckled and spun the wheel.
"They quack up."
The Jolly Boat shook all over and began to sail erratically. The professor was laughing so hard that he had a difficult time steering her into the middle of the river.
"Goon, go on!" he called. "We need more power."
"I don't know any more," said Tom.
"Well, you're a fine crew, I must say," the professor said cheerfully. He thought for a moment. "What do you have when a bird flies into a lawn mower?"
"What?" chimed the children.
"Shredded tweet!" He practically collapsed with laughter at his own joke.
The children began to giggle uncontrollably. The Jolly Boat was really shaking now and gaining speed.
"What happens when you cross a chicken and a poodle?"
"What does happen?" asked Ben in a strangled voice.
"The chicken lays pooched eggs."
They all roared with laughter. The professor peered ahead upriver. "Ph
ew. I think that'll keep us going for a while." He sank gratefully into a deck chair, puffing out his spotted handkerchief to wipe his forehead.
Tom giggled. "Speaking of chickens, here comes the Whiffle Bird."
The children looked up as the Whiffle Bird flew in and attempted to settle on top of the mast. She crashed into it and spun around and around on one of the spars until she finally steadied herself. Swaying backwards and forwards, her feathers blowing violently in the wind, she looked like a tattered flag on top of the pole.
"Good afternoon, Whiffle Bird!" the professor shouted up at her.
She shrieked, "YOU'RE BEING TAKEN FOR A RIDE!" and then she tumbled off the mast and plummeted to the deck. She obviously winded herself on landing, for she let out an undignified squawk. Then she saw Tom. She moved towards him and began her humming sounds.
"Oh-oh," he said, backing away. "Here we go again."
She flew onto his head and perched there. He looked as though he were wearing a ridiculous fluffy hat. The others folded with laughter once more.
"Professor, you have to do something about her," Tom implored. "I can't put up with this for the rest of the journey."
"Whiffle Bird, dear Whiffle Bird. You simply must come down." The professor spoke in a firm but soothing voice. "It's not fair if Tom has you all to himself, and he cannot possibly admire your beauty if you stay so close to him."
She turned around and around. Then, to Tom's great relief, she flew to the handrail and settled there.
"This might be a good time for you all to go below and have a look around," announced the professor. "Be sure to take a peek in the main salon."
Tom needed no second bidding. The others followed him down the companionway to the lower deck.
It was even more beautiful than topside, with white, softly carpeted corridors and a large master cabin, in the center of which was an ornate, lace-canopied bed. The portholes were ringed with gold and there was a captain's desk with a remarkable emblem engraved upon it: a golden shield decorated with a heart and a pair of clasped hands and the words Pax amor et lepos in iocando.
"I wonder what that means," said Lindy.
"I think it's Latin," replied Ben. "We'll ask the professor."
They walked along the corridor and into the main salon. It was paneled in various shades of glowing mahogany. There were bright curtains and deep leather armchairs, tables with antique lamps and a beautiful old piano with candle brackets. But what mainly attracted the children's attention was a large structure at the end of the room, so colorful as to make them draw in their breath.
It looked a little like a pipe organ. It had silver and gold decorations, shining levers, pistons and knobs. In the center was a many-faceted mirror surrounding a fountain which poured sparkling liquid into an exquisite porcelain bowl.
Lindy was awestruck. "What do you suppose it is?"
"I'm going to find out." Tom raced up the stairs with the others close behind him.
The professor was at the ship's wheel singing limericks in a very jaunty fashion.
"What is that thing down there?" Tom asked breathlessly.
"What thing?"
"That thing at the end of the big room."
"Mm? Oh, that. I thought you'd be interested. That's a soda fountain."
"A what?"
"Haven't you ever heard of a soda fountain? It's the Whangdoodle's favorite plaything. He has a very sweet tooth, you know. Why don't you all go and get an ice cream?"
"What do we have to do?" asked Ben.
"Stand in front of the mirror and tell the machine what you would like," said the professor. "While you're at it, would you get me a Sidewinder Surprise?"
The children stared at him. Then without a word they raced back downstairs.
'Who's going first?" asked Tom.
"You go," said Ben.
"No, you go."
"I'll go," said Lindy. She planted herself in front of the mirror.
"Er . . . is it possible . . . I mean, do you have something like . . ." Lindy cleared her throat and jumped violently as a bell rang from within the machine and a deep mechanical voice said, "I am here to serve. Speak clearly and place your order."
"Oh gosh. I think . . . well, I would like a raspberry ice cream with something like blackberry sauce and . . . and whipped cream . . . and could I have a cherry on top, please?"
"One or two scoops of ice cream?"
"Oh . . . two, please."
"One Whiffle Bird Delight," announced the machine.
The children stared in fascination as lights flashed and the levers and pumps began to work. There were ridiculous noises: splashes and gurgles, wheezes and sneezes, squeaks and squelches, burps and belches. More bells rang and the sparkling fountain changed color three times. Suddenly, high, sweet voices sang in harmony. A door opened and a tray slid forward. Lindy found herself holding a silver platter upon which was a lace doily, a napkin, a silver spoon, and a china bowl filled with the most delicious-looking raspberry ice cream and all the trimmings she had asked for.
"Oh, thank you," she managed to whisper.
"Nat, please," said the machine.
Tom moved to stand in front of the mirror.
"Do you, by any chance, have a banana split?" he asked, then added, "I'd like chocolate and vanilla ice cream, please."
"One Prock's Passion."
The machine began all over again. The voices finished singing, and Tom was presented with the most fantastic banana split he had ever seen.
It was Ben's turn. He asked politely for a vanilla ripple with some kind of hot sauce.
"One Flutterbye Fudge, coming up," the voice declared and Ben was given a mouth-watering concoction.
"Don't forget the professor," Lindy reminded the boys.
Ben turned back to the mirror. "We have a friend who would like a Sidewinder Surprise."
The machine outdid itself. It chattered and chimed furiously. When the order arrived, the children couldn't help smiling. The professor's choice was three scoops of chocolate ice cream, chocolate sauce, toffee crumbles, chopped nuts, peppermint pieces, whipped cream and six luscious marshmallows.
"That looks gorgeous," said Lindy. She turned to the machine and said politely, "Thank you so much."
"Not at all," answered the voice. The lights went out and the noise subsided.
The children made their way to the main deck carrying their dishes carefully.
The professor greeted them. "Aha. I see you have lots of goodies. Let us sit at the table under the canopy. I think the barge will keep a straight course for a while."
"That machine is just unbelievable," said Tom.
"This is the most wonderful afternoon of my whole life," declared Lindy, leaning back in the cushions. She looked around her. The countryside was bursting with color. The fields, the flowers, the trees, the rocks and mountains had a radiant quality. Golden weeping willows trailed their long branches into the water. The river sang its rippling song; shining, shimmering fish, bright as silver dollars, leaped and played as the stately barge sailed calmly and slowly along.
"I don't ever remember seeing Whangdoodleland as beautiful as it is today," said the professor. "Perhaps it is because you are all with me." He blinked fondly at the children.
The Whiffle Bird, who had been sleeping, shook herself and muttered, "You're being taken for a ride."
"You keep saying that, my friend. I wish you would explain yourself."
"Professor, why does the Whangdoodle have a lady carved on the front of the boat?" asked Ben.
"My guess is that the Whangdoodle uses the figurehead to remind him of the world he used to know—the world of human beings."
"What's that writing on the desk in the cabin?" Tom inquired.
"It is the Whangdoodle's motto. Pax amor et lepos in iocando. Latin for Peace, love and a sense of fun."
Lindy said idly, "How come there aren't any cows by the river? At home you always see cows by a river."
"Here you'd be mor
e likely to see an Oinck or a Tree Squeak or something like that," said the professor with a smile.
Lindy suddenly jumped up and ran to the railing. "Look!" she cried excitedly and pointed to the shore. "Flutterbyes."
There were hundreds of them—beautiful, multicolored winged creatures, flying and clustering around a dark-blue tree that was bursting with pale-blue flowers.
"They're swarming to the ambrosia tree," said the professor. "It produces a delicious nectar, which Flutterbyes love."
"They hang on the leaves like jewels on a necklace," Lindy marveled.
"We're getting pretty close to Ploy. See how rocky the terrain is becoming." The professor took over the wheel once more. "Children, I'm not going much farther today. There's a Gyascutus that lives somewhere in this region. I met him once and I wouldn't want to bump into him again."
"What's a Gyascutus?" Tom wanted to know.
"A very large, bad-tempered bird with a huge wingspan."
"How huge?" asked Ben.
"About fifteen feet."
"Wow!" Ben looked duly impressed.
The barge was sailing through a high, narrow gorge. Sheer, smooth rocks rose up on either side and the Golden River appeared darker from the shadows and sang a deeper song.
The Whiffle Bird seemed anxious and began to strut up and down.
The professor looked for a point upriver where it was wide enough to turn and when he found it he put the wheel hard over. The lovely barge came around slowly. Her burnt-orange sail flapped noisily, startling the children and sending the Whiffle Bird into a panic.
"YOU'RE BEING TAKEN FOR A RIDE!" she screamed for the third time. She circled once around the barge and then flapped away upriver.
"Dash it. Dash it. Fiddlesticks," the professor muttered to himself
"What is it, Professor?" Ben asked.
"Something peculiar is definitely going on today. The Whiffle Bird only speaks when there is an emergency, yet nothing has happened to us. I don't understand it."
The beautiful Jolly Boat moved out of the shadow and into the sunlight and sailed majestically past a large out-jutting rock.
The professor's suspicion of danger was well founded. The "oily" Prock was only inches away, hidden from their view behind the big rock, smiling and watching the barge as it moved on downriver.
The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles Page 7
