“Don’t scold so much!” said the Goblin, impatiently.
Now, Davy would never have teased Solomon if he had had the slightest idea that cats could talk, and he was dreadfully mortified when Solomon cried out excitedly, “Scold! I should think I had enough to scold about to-day! I’ve had bits of worsted tied on to my tail, and I’ve had some milk with pepper in it, and I’ve had pill-boxes stuck on to my feet, so that I fell heels over head downstairs—let alone having this nightcap on!”
All this was certainly enough to scold about; but what else Solomon had to complain of will never be known, for, at this moment, an old tabby cat screamed out, “Barkers!” and all the cats sprang over the side of the clock, and disappeared, with Solomon bringing up the rear, like a little unicorn.
“I think it sounds very ridiculous for a cat to talk in that way,” said Davy, uneasily.
“Yes; but it sounds very true, for all that,” said the Goblin, gravely.
“But it was such fun, you know,” said Davy, feeling that he was blushing violently.
“Oh, I dare say! Fun for you,” said the Goblin, sarcastically. “Jolligong! Here come the Barkers!” he added, and, as he said this, a shower of little blue woolly balls came tumbling into the clock. To Davy’s alarm they proved to be alive, and immediately began scrambling about in all directions, and yelping so ferociously that he climbed upon his cake in dismay, while the Goblin, hastily pulling a large magnifying-glass out of his hat, began attentively examining these strange visitors.
“Bless me!” cried the Goblin, turning very pale, “they’re sky-terriers. The dog-star must have turned upside-down.”
“What shall we do?” said Davy, feeling that this was a very bad state of affairs.
“The first thing to do,” said the Goblin, “is to get away from these fellows before the solar sisters come after them. Here, jump into my hat.”
So many wonderful things had happened already that this seemed to Davy quite a natural and proper thing to do, and as the Goblin had already seated himself upon the brim, he took his place opposite to him without hesitation. As they sailed away from the clock it quietly rolled over once, spilling out the sponge-cakes and all the little dogs, and was then wafted off, gently rocking from side to side as it went.
Davy was much surprised at finding that the hat was as large as a clothes-hamper, with plenty of room for him to swing his legs about in the crown. It proved, however, to be a very unpleasant thing to travel in. It spun around like a top as it sailed through the air, until Davy began to feel uncomfortably dizzy, and the Goblin himself seemed to be far from well. He had stopped smiling, and the rosy light had all faded away, as though the candles inside of him had gone out. His clothes, too, had changed from bright scarlet to a dull ashen color, and he sat stupidly upon the brim of the hat as if he were going to sleep.
“If he goes to sleep he will certainly fall overboard,” thought Davy; and, with a view to rousing the Goblin, he ventured to remark, “I had no idea your hat was so big.”
“I can make it any size I please, from a thimble to a sentry-box,” said the Goblin. “And, speaking of sentry-boxes”—here he stopped and looked more stupid than ever.
“I verily believe he’s absent-minded,” said Davy to himself.
“I’m worse than that,” said the Goblin, as if Davy had spoken aloud. “I’m absent-bodied;” and with these words he fell out of the hat and instantly disappeared. Davy peered anxiously over the edge of the brim; but the Goblin was nowhere to be seen, and the little boy found himself quite alone.
Strange-looking birds now began to swoop up and chuckle at him, and others flew around him, as the hat spun along through the air, gravely staring him in the face for a while, and then sailed away, sadly bleating like sheep. Then a great creature, with rumpled feathers, perched upon the brim of the hat where the Goblin had been sitting, and, after solemnly gazing at him for a few moments, softly murmured, “I’m a Cockalorum,” and flew heavily away. All this was very sad and distressing, and Davy was mournfully wondering what would happen to him next, when it suddenly struck him that his legs were feeling very cold, and, looking down at them, he discovered, to his great alarm, that the crown of the Goblin’s hat had entirely disappeared, leaving nothing but the brim, upon which he was sitting. He hurriedly examined this, and found the hat was really nothing but an enormous skein of wool, which was rapidly unwinding as it spun along. Indeed, the brim was disappearing at such a rate that he had hardly made this alarming discovery before the end of the skein was whisked away, and he found himself falling through the air.
He was on the point of screaming out in his terror, when he discovered that he was falling very slowly and gently swaying from side to side, like a toy-balloon. The next moment he struck something hard, which gave way with a sound like breaking glass and let him through, and he had just time to notice that the air had suddenly become deliciously scented with vanilla, when he fell crashing into the branches of a large tree.
Chapter III. In the Sugar-Plum Garden.
The bough upon which Davy had fallen bent far down with his weight, then sprang back, then bent again, and in this way fell into a sort of delightful up-and-down dipping motion, which he found very soothing and agreeable. Indeed, he was so pleased and comforted at finding himself near the ground once more that he lay back in a crotch between two branches, enjoying the rocking of the bough, and lazily wondering what had become of the Goblin, and whether this was the end of the Believing Voyage, and a great many other things, until he chanced to wonder where he was. Then he sat up on the branch in great astonishment, for he saw that the tree was in full leaf and loaded with plums, and it flashed across his mind that the winter had disappeared very suddenly, and that he had fallen into a place where it was broad daylight.
The plum-tree was the most beautiful and wonderful thing he had ever seen, for the leaves were perfectly white, and the plums, which looked extremely delicious, were of every imaginable color.
Now, it immediately occurred to Davy that he had never in his whole life had all the plums he wanted at any one time. Here was a rare chance for a feast, and he carefully selected the largest and most luscious-looking plum he could find, to begin with. To his disappointment it proved to be quite hard, and as solid and heavy as a stone. He was looking at it in great perplexity, and punching it with his thumbs in the hope of finding a soft place in it, when he heard a rustling sound among the leaves, and, looking up, he saw the Cockalorum perched upon the bough beside him. He was gazing sadly at the plum, and his feathers were more rumpled than ever. Presently he gave a long sigh and said, in his low, murmuring voice, “Perhaps it’s a sugar-plum,” and then flew clumsily away as before.
“Perhaps it is!” exclaimed Davy, joyfully, taking a great bite of the plum. To his surprise and disgust he found his mouth full of very bad-tasting soap, and at the same moment the white leaves of the plum-tree suddenly turned over and showed the words “April Fool” printed very distinctly on their under sides. To make the matter worse, the Cockalorum came back and flew slowly around the branches, laughing softly to himself with a sort of a chuckling sound, until Davy, almost crying with disappointment and mortification, scrambled down from the tree to the ground.
He found himself in a large garden planted with plum-trees, like the one he had fallen into, and with walks winding about among them in every direction. These walks were beautifully paved with sugar-almonds and bordered