Prince Vance Part 9

[Ill.u.s.tration]

The monkey, looking up, wiped its eyes upon a small lace handkerchief which was already quite damp enough.

"I am so miserable," it sighed. "Did you never hear folk say it was cold enough to freeze the tail off a bra.s.s monkey? I am the bra.s.s monkey.

They mean me; they mean my tail."

"But it never has been cold enough to freeze your tail off," said the Prince, consolingly.

"No," replied the monkey, wretchedly; "but then I'm always afraid it will be, and that's just as bad. Oh, what a world this is!"

The monkey upon this fell to weeping more bitterly than before, and the Prince sneezed violently three times.

"There!" exclaimed the monkey, dismally; "now you're taking cold because I'm so damp with crying."

"Oh, never mind that!" replied the Prince, politely. "It really doesn't matter. A good sneeze is really quite refres.h.i.+ng."

"That reminds me," said the monkey, "that I was sent to tell you to go back again; this isn't the road."

"Not the--" began the Prince, looking puzzled.

"Road," finished the monkey, beginning to cry once more. "To the Crushed Strawberry Wizard's, you know. You have just come back by another way nearly to the Castle of Bogarru, where the giant lives. The Funny Man told you wrong."

"Told me wrong!" repeated the poor Prince, now thoroughly discouraged.

"Yes," said the monkey, "for a joke, you know. Oh, my beautiful bra.s.s tail! What a world this is!"

"This is the very worst and meanest joke of the whole!" cried the Prince.

He s.h.i.+vered at the idea of being once more near the castle of the terrible giant; and then he remembered the weary miles he had travelled that day under the burning sun, and thinking of these things he could have wept with right good-will, had it not been that the bra.s.s monkey had already made quite a pool of tears, and Vance was afraid of causing a flood.

"You must go back the way you came," said the monkey, wringing the tears from its handkerchief. "It will take you longer than it did to come, because now it will be night. At daybreak you will see three silver birches in a meadow; then climb the hedge and follow a row of large white stones till you come to a green stile; after this the path is straight to the Crushed Strawberry Wizard's door. You cannot miss it."

"If this is true," said the Prince, "I am a thousand times obliged to you. But are you quite certain that this, too, is not a joke?"

"Oh, my jointed bra.s.s body!" cried the monkey, mournfully. "Now, do I look like a joker? I never made a joke in my life, never."

"I should be only too glad," said the Prince, as he turned to go, "to do something to cheer you up, if I might."

"Oh, no!" wailed the monkey; "n.o.body can do anything. Besides, I like to be miserable; it is the only comfort I have. Go! it is getting darker every minute. Oh, my bra.s.s toes and fingers, what a world this is!"

At this the monkey wept so violently that Vance had to give up all idea of thanking him or even of saying good-by; so he contented himself by turning and hastening back along the path by which he had come.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

XVI

Nearly all night the Prince kept on over the stony road. When the sky grew gray, he took a short nap under a th.o.r.n.y hedge, and by sunrise he was once more on his way. On his right, in a beautiful green field, he saw to his great delight three silver birches, their branches rustling lightly in the morning wind.

Vance climbed the hedge and walked on steadily, being guided, as the monkey had promised, by a seemingly endless row of pure white stones. At noon he came upon a green stile, but it was so crooked that the Prince thought he could more easily climb the hedge than get over it. As he drew nearer he perceived a curious little man, who appeared to be hunting for something in the gra.s.s at the foot of the stile. He was a good-natured-looking old man; but his head, body, arms, and legs, even his features, were twisted so that nothing about him was fair or straight. He greeted the Prince very kindly, however, and invited him to sit down by the brook and share his luncheon of bread and cheese. This, you may imagine, the famished Prince was only too glad to do.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"You've heard, perhaps," said the stranger, "of the crooked man who walked a crooked mile and found a crooked sixpence against a crooked stile? I am the man. I haven't found the sixpence yet, but hope to do so soon. I want to warn you, when you reach the Crushed Strawberry Wizard's, not to speak until he has spoken, or you'll spoil the charm for ten years."

"How good you are!" exclaimed the Prince, gratefully. "How terrible if, after all my journeying, I had spoilt the charm! Can I do anything for you? I will help hunt for the sixpence if you like, or I will beg the Wizard to untwist you."

"Oh, never mind!" returned the Crooked Man, cheerfully. "As to the sixpence, I must find that myself; and as to my crookedness, a whirlwind did it and a whirlwind must undo it. I don't mind. You see, I do not feel as badly as I look."

Thanking the kind little man once more for his luncheon and his good advice, Vance started off merrily through the beech-wood, feeling that his toilsome journey was truly drawing to an end at last. The birds sang, the brook babbled cheerfully beside him, and the breeze brought him sweet odors from a thousand flowers. Just at sunset the Prince left the wood, and came into a small open glade where the gra.s.s was like cool green velvet to his feet, and a crystal fountain splashed in the midst of a bed of flowers. Here Vance beheld a curious pink house shaped like an enormous strawberry; and before the door, busily making tatting, was a strange-looking person, all of a pinkish magenta color even to his hair, and wearing a gown and pointed hat of the same unpleasant hue.

Prince Vance had found the Crushed Strawberry Wizard at last.

XVII

It was well that Vance had been warned by the Crooked Man not to speak first, as he certainly would have done so, for in truth the Crushed Strawberry Wizard did not appear to be at all a talkative sort of man.

He did indeed look up as Vance came near and put down his box; but he said nothing, and closing his eyes, went on making tatting in silence.

Vance stood on one foot awhile, and then on the other. He counted the white doves upon the peaked roof, and watched a small old lady who was gathering herbs in the tiny garden beside the house; but he was very careful not to speak. At last his patience was rewarded. The Wizard opened his eyes and spoke.

"The reason," he said very slowly, "that a sausage cannot walk is that it has no legs. You can understand that, can't you?"

"Oh, certainly!" replied the Prince, politely.

He was extremely anxious not to say anything to make the Wizard angry.

"Well, then," returned the Wizard, "don't pretend that you can't, that's all."

For some time longer the Wizard made tatting in silence; then once again he spoke.

"The reason," he said gravely, "that a horse has no trunk is because it is not an elephant. Can you see the philosophy of that?"

"Yes, your--" "Majesty," the Prince was about to say, in his eagerness to be polite; but he changed his mind just in time, and said courteously, "Yes, your Wizards.h.i.+p."

This appeared to please the Wizard, for he bent his head three times and invited the Prince in to tea. The table was already spread; and seated about it were the old lady Vance had seen herb-gathering, and nine black cats with green eyes, peaked caps, and nice white napkins under their chins. The Wizard placed a chair for the Prince.

"This is my wife," he said, waving his hand toward the tiny old lady.

"She is a professional witch. She eats nothing but gra.s.shoppers gathered when the moon is full."

The Wizard here lowered his voice mysteriously and bent toward Vance.

"Economical," he said, "very economical. She hardly costs me a groat a year, except for her high-heeled shoes; those come dear, but she must have them, being a professional witch, you know. Now, as to these cats, how many lives should you guess they had among them, eh?"