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1. Smaly And His Wife Redy



[Smaly and his wife Redy set forth in search of three little girls: They are bewitched so that their noses turn into beaks: Smaly eats the latch of a door and Redy eats the hinge: Redy's fingers weep tears: They meet with a Confectioner who resembles a Kangaroo.]

Smaly and Redy were husband and wife, and they lived together in a little white house. This house had three rooms upstairs and three rooms downstairs; and each room was so pretty that it gave one joy to see it. Smaly and Redy were very proud of their house, and were never so happy as when they were putting it to rights. Every day they did something to one or other of the rooms, changing the position of the furniture or the pictures.

One day, while Smaly was walking in the town he saw three mirrors in a shop window, and he thought they would be just the thing to hang up in the three bedrooms; so he bought the mirrors and went home with them in high glee.

In the meantime, Redy, his little wife, also had an idea to beautify the bedrooms, so she went out into the garden to pick some flowers.

Smaly hung a looking-glass in each of the three little bedrooms, then he carefully closed all three doors and, going downstairs, sat himself by the hearth. A fire was burning there, for the spring was still young in the land.

While he sat there, smoking, lost in the most delicious daydreams, his pleasant little wife Redy came in with her arms full of flowers. She took three vases from the dresser, and began to arrange the flowers in them, holding her head on one side like a bird.



When she had put each flower exactly as she wished, she gently shook Smaly's elbow. He jumped up, took two vases without a word, while she picked up the third. They disposed a vase in each of the three little bedrooms, and stood back to admire the effect; which, indeed, was quite charming.

Suddenly Redy gave a sigh.

"It's all very well," said she, "but there's no one to live in our pretty rooms."

Smaly sighed, too. "That's just what I was thinking," said he. "Oh, Redy, how nice it would be if we had three little girls to live in our three bedrooms, so that they could admire your flowers and look at themselves in my pretty mirrors."

"Let us wish for them," said Redy, and she folded her hands together on her apron and chanted:

"We wish to have three girls,
Fine, sweet, pink, and good
They shall have more pudding than they like,
And a green, green, and rosy garden."

Smaly repeated the poem in his turn, but Redy had to prompt him, for he had a very bad memory.

They waited for some time, but nothing happened, so they said the verse over again, and this time Smaly repeated it without any mistake; but still nothing happened.

"Wishing does not seem to be much good," said Smaly despondently.

"Wishing never is any good," answered Redy, "unless one does something more than wish. If we want to find our three little girls we must set out and look for them."

"Yes, but where?" asked Smaly.

"As for that," answered his little wife, "I do not know any more than you, but that verse we chanted just now is a magic verse, and we shall find the way. We will get ready to start to-morrow."




So the very next morning they set off on their search for the three girls who would fill the white house with joy.



Redy had dressed herself in her best. Her green gown was trimmed with black and emerald leaves, and her stockings and little cocked hat were green to match. In her basket she thoughtfully placed two apples.

IN THIS LAND ALL THE BIRDS WORE HATS AND SPURS

Smaly faced the world in his beautiful dark violet coat, on his head a tall hat of the same colour. A belt of yellow leather clasped his waist. In his buttonhole he stuck a sunflower to show how happy he was. His best boots shone upon his feet. In the big pocket of his coat he placed a couple of fresh rolls. The rolls and the apples were their provisions for the journey. For weapon, in case of attack, Smaly carried a thin red stick.




For a long while they walked and walked. They crossed many countries which everybody knows. At last, however, they found themselves in a strange land, a land of which one hardly ever even hears--a land which was even odder than these two odd little people.

In this land both men and beasts lived upon nothing but sweetmeats and pastry.

In this land the sun shone longer than it does with us, because it often stopped for a while to rest during the course of the day.

In this land all the birds wore hats and spurs.

In this land an orchestra of swallows played always at noonday.

In this land earthworms wore spectacles on their noses and swords at their sides.

In this land such things as bricks, iron, wood, stone, and steel were unknown.

In this land, after one had finished dinner, one ate the plates and dishes, for they were made of sugar.

In this land nearly every inhabitant was made of slices of cake, held together with pudding, sweetmeats, nougat, and chocolate.

In a word, there were to be found in this curious country a great many things that were strange and wonderful and good to eat.

Smaly and Redy knocked at the door of this wonderful land, but for some time no one came to answer them.

"Bother this door!" said Smaly, at last, kicking at it with his new boots, and hitting it with his red cane.

"Why, it's made of chocolate!" cried Redy, who had sucked her fingers after touching it.

"I will eat the latch away!" decided Smaly.

"And I'll eat the hinges," said Redy.

She seized a hinge and he tore off the latch.

The next moment the tears were pouring down their faces.

"Oh, oh, it's burning me!" cried poor Redy.

"It must be made of red pepper and spice!" wept Smaly.

REDY'S HANDS WERE CRYING WITH FRIGHT

They had certainly burnt their tongues. They held hands and ran away, uttering little moans of pain. The path took an abrupt turn, then another, then a third, and yet a fourth, till it had described a complete circle. Smaly and Redy found themselves once again opposite the door.




There was no longer any way out, for a thick hedge now surrounded the two travellers, and they found themselves in a sort of green arena. Quite a pretty arena, but all the same, it was rather alarming to find themselves there, without a word of warning.

And the thick green hedge around the arena grew with such a horrible rapidity. Very soon it was so high that the place became as dark as night.

BUT HE FOUND HE, TOO, HAD A BEAK

Smaly, in his alarm, had seized both Redy's hands in his, and now he suddenly noticed that they were all wet. For one dreadful moment Smaly thought they must be wet with blood, but the fact was that poor Redy's hands were crying with fright.




For a little while Smaly and Redy wept bitterly, but they soon grew too tired to cry. They shut their mouths firmly, and tried to leave off sobbing when they left off weeping, but their sobs kept on and on in spite of them, for all the world like a tap that keeps on going "glug-glug!" when one has forgotten to turn it off.

Smaly put up his hand, meaning to lay it gently over Redy's mouth.

She no longer had a mouth--in place of it was a fine large beak, painted an elegant blue. Filled with horror, and sure that their end had come, Smaly thought to print on Redy's cheek one last kiss of despair.

But he found he, too, had a beak, with which he could do nothing but peck. They stood staring at each other's beaks. They did not yet know that the beaks were invisible to all save themselves and the birds.




They sat down on their heels like Turkish princes, and their sobs went on and on, sounding like the lament of thousands of insects, and still the green hedges around them went on growing, till it seemed that the two poor little people were at the bottom of a profound green funnel, brimming with darkness, in which their moaning sounded like the wind in the chimney of a winter's night.

"Oh, oh, my Redy, we're in a pretty pass!" murmured Smaly, and Redy knew that he was feeling almost mad with fright, so that at once she felt mad with fright also. Now Redy had heard that mad people sing and dance, and so she at once began to do both, dragging Smaly along with her. They sang and danced till they had no breath left, and then they wanted to drop down and rest, but found they had to keep on and on in spite of themselves. The dance of terror, and the song with which their little little sobs and moans mingled, continued there at the bottom of the green funnel. There was more noise than there is at midday in Oxford Circus.

THEY SANG AND DANCED

The pepper from the latch of the door began to burn again in Smaly's mouth, and reminded him that after all there was a door out of this horrible place. He began to feel about for it in the darkness. When he found it he uttered a sharp little cry, which, like the moans and the singing, refused to die away, but went on echoing in the green funnel, so that by now there was a noise like a tempest, for all the world as though the whole sea had been imprisoned in a box--and a box too small for it.

Smaly uttered this cry because he had discovered that the latch was once more in its place on the door, although Smaly had thrown it far away after biting it. Redy's hinge also was back in its place. Neither the latch nor the hinge bore any trace of having been bitten, but felt smooth and solid to the fingers.

NEITHER THE LATCH NOR THE HINGE BORE ANY TRACE OF HAVING BEEN BITTEN




Smaly and Redy became even more terrified than before, so that their hearts felt like two little lumps of ice in their breasts. And then a very odd thing happened to them. Their beaks opened of themselves, and these words came out of them--words which Smaly and Redy had never thought of saying:

"Where is the key?"

Nothing answered them.

Then they found themselves on their hands and knees looking for the key.

"Where is the key? Oh, Reckybecky, where is the key?" the beaks demanded, entirely of their own accord.

LOOKING FOR THE KEY

Immediately a little grille opened in the door, and a voice said:

"Upon this side are honey, tea, and sugar! On your side are pepper, ginger, and allspice!"

"And on this side there are also the beaks of birds!" replied Smaly, alarmed at his own temerity; "and here also are the hands which weep! And the horrible moanings! And----"

He was interrupted by a gentle laugh. This laugh sounded like a little peal of crystal bells. And as the laugh went rippling on, the hedge began to shrink and shrink, and the moans and sobs died away.




The hearts of Smaly and Redy were beating like a couple of alarum-clocks. The gate had a little grille in it and they peeped through this grille to see what creature it was whose silvery laughter had the power to charm away both the high hedge and the weird moanings. Although the creature was several yards away they could see quite clearly his large, rosy eyes edged with grey rims. They saw the creature as distinctly as one can see the actors on the stage when one looks through opera-glasses.

They saw that the rosy grey-rimmed eyes were set in a face of the green of a pistachio-nut. The hair was the vague blue of cigarette smoke. The head looked as though it were sculptured out of mother-of-pearl. Later, they discovered that it was a mingling of ice-cream and jelly, for the creature himself was a confectioner.

He was a confectioner ... and yet Smaly could have wagered his beautiful new boots that he was more of a kangaroo than anything else. For though this confectioner wore an apron and a fine green waistcoat, yet undoubtedly his chess-board trousers and embroidered stockings covered the powerful hind legs of a kangaroo. The long paws were shod with a species of pattens, so big they seemed like miniature tables, and these pattens were painted scarlet. Slung all about him, the Kangaroo carried as many pots and pans as a travelling tinker. He was adorned as well by spoons of bamboo, and from his belt hung ebony-handled knives, while jam-jars and flagons, filled with preserves and essences, dangled about him. The most tender mauves and translucent greens glowed through the glass of the flagons.

KANGAROO-CONFECTIONER

Smaly studied the good-natured face of this personage, and asked him simply:

"Who are you?"

Then the Kangaroo-Confectioner said a surprising thing. He replied:

"I am the Architect."

The moment he had spoken he put up his hand and shut his mouth, to prevent the sound of his words going on and on in the curious air of the place, which seemed to hold sounds suspended as water holds the fronds of weeds.

Smaly looked at him dubiously.

"You say you are an architect ... and yet your occupation appears to me to be much more that of a confectioner, a super-confectioner."

The Kangaroo seemed overcome with a nervousness; his smiling face creased itself into a thousand little lines of distress, his eyes looked vacant, his manner became flustered. Evidently he was struggling with his emotion. When he had sufficiently recovered he planted his long feet more firmly on their scarlet pattens, and, taking a deep breath, chanted as follows:

"With jam I build the walls,
And with jam I fill the tarts,
With honey-cake I tile the roofs
Which crest the pastry towers.
The chairs are made of barley-sugar
And the tables and napkins are not of custard,
Nor of mustard nor of treacle,
But I weave them of thin macaroni.

"I am the Builder Architect,
Who makes the cottages and the tarts,
Who knows all about chairs and farms,
Who makes the castles and the biscuits
With chocolate and nice cornflour.

"Where I am--honey, tea, and sugar!
Where you are, pepper, ginger, and allspice!"

But, since the word "allspice" continued to reverberate through the air, the Confectioner shut his mouth smartly with his finger and thumb.