The Zankiwank and The Bletherwitch: An Original Fantastic Fairy Extravaganza. Fitz-Gerald Shafto Justin Adair
this express is nothing less
Than a steamer, don't you know!
We're sailing now upon the Thames,
All in a penny boat,
And we soon shall change for a mountain range,
In the atmosphere to float!
So off we go to Fable Land —
(Speak kindly to the guard!)
Which many think a Babel-land,
But this you disregard.
You'll find it is a Stable-land,
With stables in the yard —
A possible, probable, Able-land,
So do not vex the guard!
We've left behind us Charing Cross,
And all the town in bed;
For it is plain, though in this train,
We're standing on our head!
We're riding now in Bedfordshire,
Which is the Land of Nod;
And yet in the sky we are flying high,
Which seems extremely odd!
So off we go to Fable Land —
(Speak kindly to the guard!)
Which many think a Babel-land,
But this you disregard.
You'll find it is a Stable-land,
With stables in the yard —
A possible, probable, Able-land,
So do not vex the guard!
Maudie and Willie found themselves joining lustily in the chorus when the Zankiwank pulled the cord communicating with the guard, and, opening the window, climbed out on to the top of the carriage calling all the time: —
"Guard! Guard! Guard!
Don't go so hard,
Just give the brake a hitch!
To Charing Cross return —
Nay, do not look so stern —
For I would not tell a cram,
I must send a telegram,
To my darling little Bletherwitch."
So the guard turned the train round, and they went back to Charing Cross as quick as lightning.
"It's my fault," moaned the Jackarandajam, "I ought to have reminded you. Never mind, we will put on another engine."
So the Zankiwank got out and sent a telegram to the Bletherwitch, and desired her to follow on in a balloon.
Again they started, and everybody settled down until the train reached the British Channel, when it dived through a tunnel into an uninhabited country, where the post-office clerk popped his head into the carriage window and handed in a telegram.
"From the Bletherwitch,
To the Zankiwank.
Don't wait tea. Gone to the Dentists."
"Extremely thoughtful," exclaimed everybody. But the Zankiwank wept, and explained to the sympathetic Maude that he was engaged to be married to the Bletherwitch, and he had been waiting for her for fourteen years. "Such a charming creature. I will introduce you when she comes. Fancy, she is only two feet one inch and one third high. Such a suitable height for a bride."
"What," expostulated Willie and Maude together, "she's no bigger than our baby! And you are quite – "
"Eight feet and one half of an inch."
"How disproportionate! It seems to me to be a most unequal match," answered Maude. "What does her mother say?"
"Oh, she hasn't got any mother, you know. That would not do. She has been asleep for two thousand years, and has only just woke up to the fact that I am her destiny."
"She is only joking," declared Maude. "Two thousand years! She must be joking!"
"No," replied the Zankiwank somewhat sadly, "she is not joking. She never jokes. She is of Scottish descent," he added reflectively. "I hope she will keep her appointment. I am afraid she is rather giddy! – "
"Giddy! Well, if she has waited two thousand years before making up her mind to go to the dentists she must be giddy. I am afraid you are not speaking the truth."
Before any reply could be given the Guard came to the window and said they would have to go back to Charing Cross again as he forgot to pay his rent, and he always paid his rent on Monday.
"But this is not Monday," said Willie. "Yesterday was Monday. To-day is to-morrow you know, therefore it is Tuesday. Pay your landlady double next Monday and that will do just as well."
The Guard hesitated.
"Don't vex the Guard," they all said in chorus.
"I am not vexed," said the Guard, touching his hat. "Do you think it would be right to pay double? You see my landlady is single. She might not like it."
"Write 'I. O. U.' on a post-card and send it to her. It will do just as well, if not better," suggested Mr Swinglebinks.
So the Guard sent the post-card; but in his agitation he told the engineer driver to go straight ahead instead of round the corner. The consequence was that they were run into by a Demon on a bicycle, and thrown out of the train down a coal mine. Luckily there were no coals in the mine so it did not matter, and they went boldly forward – that is to say, Willie and Maude did, and knocked at the front door of a handsome house that suddenly appeared before them.
Nobody opened the door, so they walked in. They looked behind them, but could not see the Zankiwank or any of the passengers in the train; therefore, not knowing what else to do, they went upstairs. They appeared to be walking up stairs for hours without coming to a landing or meeting with anyone, and the interminable steps began to grow monotonous. Presently they heard a scuffling and a stamping and a roaring behind them and something or somebody began to push them most rudely until at last the wall gave way, the stairs gave way, they gave way, and tumbled right on to the tips of their noses.
"Out of the way! Out of the way!" screamed a chorus of curious voices, and Maude and Willie found themselves taken by the hand by a weird-looking dwarf with a swivel eye and an elevated proboscis, and led out of danger.
The children could not help gazing upon their preserver, who was so grotesquely formed, with a humped back, twisted legs, very long arms, and such a funny little body without any neck. But his eyes atoned for everything – they sparkled and glinted in their sockets like bright brown diamonds – only there are no brown diamonds, you know, only white and pink ones.
The Dwarf did not appear to mind the wondering looks of the children at all, but patted them on the cheeks and told them not to be frightened. But whether he meant frightened of himself, or of the Birds, Beasts, and Fishes that were hurrying by in such confusing masses, they could not tell. One thing, however, that astonished them very much was the deference with which they greeted their quaint rescuer, as they passed by. For every creature from the Lion to the Mouse bowed most politely as they approached him, and then went on their way gaily frisking, for this was their weekly half-holiday.
"How do you like my Menagerie," enquired the Dwarf. "Rough and ready, perhaps, but as docile as a flat-iron if you treat them properly."
"It is just like the Zoo," declared Willie. "Or the animals in Æsop's Fables," suggested Maude.
This delighted the Dwarf very much, for though he looked so serious, he was full of good humour and skipped about with much agility.
"Good! Good!" he cried. "Æsop and the Zoo! Ha! Ha! He! He! Anybody can be a Zoo but only one can be Æsop, and I am he!"
"Æsop! Are you really Mr Æsop, the Phrygian Philosopher?" cried Maude.
"King Æsop, I should say," corrected