The Zankiwank and The Bletherwitch: An Original Fantastic Fairy Extravaganza

The Zankiwank took no notice of them whatever, and behaved just as though he could not see them. They called him by name without arousing his attention, for he was once more writing a telegram, only he did not know where to send it. In the distance Maude could hear the sound of voices, and she declared she could recognise the Queen singing, though Willie said it must have been her imagination because he could not. However, this is what Maude said she heard: —

Dear little maid, may joy be thineAs through your life you go;Let Truth and Peace each act design,That Hope turn not to woe.Dream if you will in maiden prime,But let each dream be true;For idle hopes waste golden time,That won't return to you.In after years when ways divide,And Love dispels each tear,Know in some breast there will abideA thought for you sincere.So strive, dear maid, to play your part,With noble aim and deed;Let sweetness ever sway your heart,And so I give you speed.

While Maudie was pondering over the meaning of these words, she was suddenly lifted off her feet, and, when she recovered from the shock, found herself with Willie in a balloon, while down below the Zankiwank was fondly embracing the Jackarandajam, who had just arrived with a whole army of odd-looking people, including Jack-the-Giant-Killer, Tom Thumb, Blue Beard, and all his wives, with Sister Anne, Dick Whittington, and his black cat, and Tom Tiddler, and about three thousand four hundred and five goblins and sprites, who all commenced running a race up and down the valley from which they were fast speeding.

"Keep the pot a-boiling; keep the pot a-boiling," bawled the Zankiwank, and away they all went again, helter skelter, in and out, and up and down, like skaters on a rink.

Gradually the balloon altered its course, and instead of going up it went straight ahead to a large inpenetrable wall that seemed to threaten them with destruction; while, to the annoyance of both Maude and Willie, they could hear the revellers down below dancing and singing as though they were in no jeopardy. And if the words had been correct they would have declared that it was the Mariners of England who were singing their own song: —

You sleepy little mortals,High up in a balloon,You soon will pass the portals,Beyond the crescent moon.Then Shadowland will come in view,A dream within a dream;So keep in your sleepWhile we keep up the steam;While the midnight hours are all a-creep,And we are all a-beam.The spirits of the fairiesThis eve are very bright,For in your nest the mare isWho only rides by night.Into a magic sphere you go,A dream within a dream.So keep in your sleep,While we keep up the steam,For Shadow Land is deep and steep,And we are all a-beam.

With a bump, and a thump, and a jump, the balloon burst against the wall, and Maude and Willie felt themselves dropping, dropping, dropping, until the Zankiwank bounced up and caught them both in his arms, saying as he rushed forward: —

"Quick, the gates are only open for five seconds once a week, and if we don't get inside at once we shall be jammed in the door-way."

So into Shadow Land they tumbled as the porter mumbled and grumbled and shut the gate with a boom and a bang after them.

Part III

A Visit to Shadow Land

Swift as a shadow, short as any dream;Bright as the lightning in the collied night,That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth,And ere a man hath power to say "Behold!"The jaws of darkness do devour it up:So quick bright things come to confusion.Shakespeare.There's a crushing and a crashing – there's a flaring and a flashing,There's a rushing and a dashing, as if crowds were hurrying by —There's a screaming and a shouting, as a multitude was routing,And phantom forms were flouting the blackness of the sky,And in mockery their voices are lifted wild and high,As they lilt a merry measure while they fly.J. L. Forrest.

"This," cheerily explained the Zankiwank, "is Shadow Land, where everything is mist, though nothing is ever found, because nothing is ever lost, for you cannot lose nothing unless you have nothing to gain. Consequently I shall leave you to find out everything else," with which nonsensical introduction the Zankiwank caught hold of the wings of a house, sprang on to the gables, and flew down the nearest chimney, followed by all the dancers they had seen below, including the Jackarandajam and all the residents from Story-Book Land of whom you can think. But if you cannot think of all of them yourself, ask your sisters to think for you.

It certainly was a Land of Shadows, where revolving lights like flashes from a lighthouse sent all sorts of varying rays right through the mists, presenting to them a fresh panorama of views every other minute or so. The shadows danced all through the place, which seemed like a large plateau or table-land, near a magnificent stretch of ocean which they could see before them with ships passing to and fro incessantly. And all the time, goblins, hob, nob and otherwise, red, blue, and green, kept rushing backwards and forwards, sometimes with a whole school of children following madly in their wake. Such a dashing and a crashing was never seen or heard before, and as each creature carried his shadow with him, you can just imagine what a lot of lights and shades there must have been. Occasionally there would be a slight lull in the excitement, and the racing and the rushing would cease for awhile. Each time that there was a pause in the seemingly endless races, a quaint round-faced little person, dressed in short petticoats, sky blue stockings and a crimson peaked hat, stepped from Nowhere in particular, and either sang a song herself or introduced a small girl spirit, or boy spirit, who did so for her.

The first time, she descended on to the plateau on a broom, and introduced herself by throwing a light from the magic lantern which she carried, on to a sheet of water which she unfolded, and thereon appeared this announcement: —

I am the Great Little Winny Weg

But as neither Willie nor Maude knew what a Winny Weg was, they were necessarily compelled to await further developments. However, as none came, they listened carefully to her song, which, as far as I can remember, was like this: —

The Funny Little Man

I am going to tell a story of a little girl I knew,She had a little sweetheart no bigger than my shoe;She used to sit and sew all day – he used to run and play,And when she tried to chide him, this is all that he would say:O my! Here's such a jolly spree!Sally Water's coming with Jack Sheppard into tea,She's bringing Baby Bunting with old Mother Hubbard's Dog,And little Jacky Horner with the Roly Poly Frog.O my! it fills my heart with glee!The House that Jack is building isn't big enough for me!In time these two got married and they took a little house,And soon a tiny baby came, no bigger than a mouse;But still the little husband played at skipping rope and topWith all the little girls and boys, and drank their ginger-pop.O my! this funny little SamThought the world was bread and cheese, and all the trees were jam;He stood his baby on its head, and played at shuttlecock,And then he rocked himself to sleep with cakes of almond-rock.O my! he was a sniggadee!He went to bed at one o'clock and rose at half-past three.Now once they gave a party, and sweet Cinderella cameWith Blue Beard and Red Riding Hood and little What's-His-Name;And Nelly Bly who winked her eye and Greedy Tommy Stout,Bo-Peep and Tam O'Shanter, and likewise Colin Clout.O my! it was a jolly spree!Ev'ry one from Fairy Land and Fiddle Faddle Fee,And Mary brought her Little Lamb, from which they all had chops,While Puck and Cupid served them with some hot boiled acid drops.O my! it was a happy spread,They all sat down on toadstools and in mushrooms went to bed.As time went on, and he grew grey, he took to flying kites,And then he took to staying out so very late o' nights!One day he thought he was a bird and flew up in the air,And if you listen you will hear singing now up there: —O my! I'm such a funny Coon,I'm going to get some green cheese away up in the Moon;I'm going to see the Evening Star, to ask him why he blinks,Also the Sun to ascertain about the things she thinks.O my! I feel so gay and free,I'm going to call on Father Time and then return to tea.

The two children were so absorbed in listening to this rhyming rigmarole that they did not observe the Winny Weg depart, though, when they came to think of it, the last verse was sung in the clouds, and presumably by the Funny Little Man himself, and they quite longed for him to pay them a call. But he didn't, so the goblins started off once more on their wild career, this time on horseback, making such a hammering and a clattering as almost to deafen them.

Quickly in the rear of the white horses and the spirits, who all wore little round caps with tassels at the top, came a procession of dolls – wax dolls, wooden dolls, and saw-dust dolls, very finely dressed, with here and there a doll who had lost a leg, or an arm, or a head, while some were quite cripples, and had to be carried by a train of tiny girls in very short frocks and very long sashes. At the head of these appeared the Winny Weg again, and just as they were vanishing in the shadows, a regular shower of broken dolls came down in dreadful disorder, causing the children to break from their ranks to gather up their property, as the dolls, it was evident, were their own old companions which they had discarded when new ones were given to them. One particularly disreputable doll, with a broken nose and a very battered body, was claimed by the prettiest child of all, and as she picked it up, she stepped into the centre of a ring formed by her school-fellows, and recited to them this pathetic poem: —

The Unfortunate Doll

O poor Dolly! O pitty sing!An' did um have a fall?Some more tourt plaster I must blingOr else oo'll squeam and squall!I never knew a doll like oo —Oo must have been made yong;I don't fink oo were born twite new —Oo never have been stwong!I held oo to the fire one dayTo make oose body warm;And melted oose poor nose away —And then oo lost oose form.Yen some yude boy, to my surplise,Said oo had dot a stwint;And yen he painted both oose eyesAnd wapped oo up in lint.Your yosey cheeks were nets to fade,Oose blush bedan to do;And now I'm welly much aflaidOose lost oose big yight toe.Oose left leg is no longer left,Oose yight arm's left oo too;And of your charm oo is beyeft,And no doll tums to woo!And oose a hollow little fing,Oose saw-dust has yun out;Your stweak is gone, oo cannot sing,Oose lips tan't form a pout.Oose hair is dyed, an' all is done,Oose ears are in oose neck;An' so my Dolly, darling one,Oo is a fearful weck.It is too bad – I loved oo so —That oo should die so soon,An' to the told, told drave must doThis velly afternoon!

After this affecting recital they all took out their "hankelwiches," as the owner of the Unfortunate Doll said, and placing themselves in line, they followed, as mourners, the remains of the deceased doll to the end of a back garden, which some of the goblins had brought in with them. Then everything faded away again, and more shadows danced on the land and the sea, until nothing was to be seen but the galloping sprites and the Winny Weg, who was dancing in a corner all by herself.

A pink light now burst through the haze, the goblins rode off, and a perfect fairy-land nursery was unfolded before Maude and Willie, who were reclining peacefully on a golden couch with silver cushions. They had no desire to talk, but were content to drink in all that they saw rapturously and silently. The nursery was crowded, wee baby-kins were crawling about everywhere, with a dozen coy cupid-like dots with bows and arrows. And right away at the back a beautiful garden was disclosed, in which happy young couples were seen perambulating arm-in-arm, talking soft nothings to each other. Meanwhile the crawling babies in the Universal Nursery began to stand up; and then commenced such a game of leap-frog by these tiny mites, that made even the Cheshire Cat smile. It was so funny to hear these dots call out to each other to tuck in their "tuppennies," and to see them flying, without stopping to take breath, over each other's backs. Even the little pink and blue cupids laughed until the babies crept back to their cribs once more, and were rocked off to sleep as the Winny Weg waved her wand, and an unseen choir of little girls and boys was heard singing this Lullaby: —

O We are so Sleepy!

O we are so sleepy!Blinky, winky eyes:Why are you so peepyEre the twilight dies?See! the dustman callethAs the shadows creep;Eve's dark mantle falleth,And we long to sleep.To sleep! To sleep!O we are so sleepy!Blinky, winky eyes:Why are you so peepyEre the twilight dies?O we are so sleepy:Nodding is each head,Playing at bo-peepy,Now the day is sped.Birdies in their nestiesRest in slumber deep;Nodland's full of guestiesWhen we go to sleep.To sleep! To sleep!O we are so sleepy!Blinky, winky eyes:Why are you so peepyWhen the twilight dies?

The slight mist that had descended went up just like a gauze curtain, bringing into view again the lovely garden reposing in the rear in a beautiful green bath of light.

Then the merry Winny Weg caught hold of the cupids and incited them to dance a slow gavotte, and as they danced they warbled lusciously: —

Cupid's Garden

O chaste and sweet are the flowers that blowIn Cupid's Garden fair;Shy Pansies for thoughts in clusters grow,And Lilies pure and rare.Violets white, and Violets blue,And budding Roses red,With Orange-bloom of tend'rest hueTheir fragrance gently spread.

Other voices, which seemed to belong to the lads and lasses in the garden, joined in the chorus: —

Love is born of the Lily and Rose,Love in a garden springs;With maidens pure and bright it grows,And in all hearts it sings.Love lies Bleeding with Maiden's Blush,Sighing Forget-me-not;While the Gentle Heart with crimson flushPeeps from its cooling grot.And Love lies dreaming in idlenessTo gain its own Heart's-Ease;The Zephyrs breathe with shy caress,Each youthful breast to please.Love is born of the Lily and Rose,Love in a garden springs;With maidens pure and bright it grows,And for all hearts it sings.

How delicious and soothing Shadow Land was! Shadow Land! The Land of Yesterday, To-Day and To-morrow. The Land of Hope, and Joy and Peace. The two children wandered off, as it were, into a dream for a time, and when they gazed again, the garden was more delightful than ever – a joyous blend of Spring and Summer seemed to invade the grounds, while many of the flowers and trees showed slight signs of Autumn tinting. In one corner of the garden a magnificent marble and bronze fountain unexpectedly sprang up through the ground and played unceasingly to the ethereal skies. Merry children danced and played around its base, and lovers young and old promenaded affectionately up and down the innumerable groves, stopping now and then to offer each other a draught of the sparkling water that fell so deliciously into the amber cups.

There were no shadows now. All was bright and glorious; sunlight and pleasure reigned supreme. From the clouds unseen singers sang softly to the people as they passed and repassed, and this was the story of their song: —

In a garden stood a fountain,Sparkling in the noon-day sun,Rising like a crystal mountain —Never ceasing – never done!Happy children came there playing,Laughing in their frolic glee;'Mong the flow'rs and brambles straying,Tasting life's sweet ecstasy.O fountain pure and bright,Dance in the joyous sun;And sparkle in your might,Until all life is done.In the summer came the lovers,Plighting troth beneath its shade;Warm heart's secret each discovers —Happy youth and happy maid!Plays the fount so soft and featlyIn the breeze of waning day,As the lovers whisper sweetly,"I will love you, love alway."O fountain pure and bright,Dance in the joyous sun;And sparkle in your mightUntil all life is done.In the winter, cold and dreary,Cease the waters in their play;But the lovers, grey and weary,Seek the tryst of yesterday!Time and tide flow on for ever,Heedless of man's joy or pain;But beyond the tideless riverTrusting hearts will meet again.O fountain pure and bright,Dance in the joyous sun;And sparkle in your might,Until all life is done.

The voices faded and died away; the scene changed and a purple curtain descended, hiding everything and everybody except the Winny Weg. An extraordinary commotion outside warned the half-dozing children that a fresh flight of goblins might be expected. And sure enough in stalked an army of giants from one side, who were met by an army of dwarfs from the other, the latter on stilts. But the curious thing about them was that the giants had only got one eye, which was stuck on the ends of their noses, while the dwarfs had their eyes where their ears ought to be, and their ears in the place usually reserved for the eyes. Besides which they each had a large horn fixed in the middle of their foreheads.

Both armies expressed surprise at seeing each other, the leaders of which said quite calmly, as though they were asking one another to have a penny bun cut up in four between them – both said quite calmly —

"I suppose we must fight now we have met?"

Upon hearing this the Winny Weg mounted her broom-stick and flew up out of harm's way.

And then commenced the most terrible battle ever seen on land or sea. They fought with penknives and darning-needles, the battle lasted half an hour, and only one stilt was injured. So they began again, using coal scuttles and tongs, and the din was so fearful, and the giants and the dwarfs got so mixed up that a railway train filled with Shadows of the Past rushed on and sent both armies flying. Then the shadows deepened and deepened, and the lightning flashed, the thunders crashed, the sea roared, and a great red cavern opened and swallowed up everything, including Maude and Willie, who certainly were not quite awake to what was going forward, and all they could recollect of the occurrence was that they saw the winkles and the shrimps on the sea-shore playing at bowls with the cockles.

Part IV

The Land of Topsy Turvey

In the noon of night, o'er the stormy hillsThe fairy minstrels play;And the strains replete with fantastic dreams,On the wild gusts flit away.Then the sleeper thinks, as the dreamful songOn the blast to his slumber comes,That his nose as the church's spire is long,And like its organ hums!R. D. Williams.Wouldst know what tricks, by the pale moonlight,Are played by one, the merry little Sprite?I wing through air from the camp to the court,From King to clown, and of all make sport,Singing I am the SpriteOf the merry midnightWho laughs at weak mortals and loves the moonlight.Thomas Moore.

If Maude and Willie had been in a state of somnolency during their sojourn in Shadow Land, they felt themselves very much awake on reaching the land of Topsy Turvey. They knew they were in Topsy Turvey Land because they were greeted with a jingling chorus to that effect immediately they opened their eyes: —

O this is Topsy Turvey Land,Where ev'ry one is gay and bland,And day is always night.We welcome to all strangers give,For by their custom we must live,Because we're so polite.O this is Topsy Turvey Land,And all our goods are in demand,By mortal, fay and sprite.Our novelties are warranted,And through the land their fame is spread,Because we're so polite.

Surely they had been whisked back to Charing Cross again without knowing it? The long wide thoroughfare in which the children now found themselves was just like one of the main shopping streets in London. Some parts reminded them of Regent Street, some of the Strand, and some of Oxford Street. Yes, and there was the Lowther Arcade, only somehow a little different. It was odd. Toy shops, novelty stores, picture shops, and shops of all sorts and sizes greeted them on either hand. Moreover, there were the shopkeepers and their assistants, and crowds of people hurrying by, jostling the loungers and the gazers; and the one policeman, who was talking to a fat person in a print gown who was standing at the area steps of the only private house they could see. They were wondering what they should do when the policeman cried out: —

"Come along there! Now then, move on!" How rude of him. However, they "moved on," and were nearly knocked down by the Zankiwank, who darted into the post-office to receive a telegram and to send one in reply.

They followed him, of course; they knew the telegram was from the Bletherwitch, and the Zankiwank read it out to them: —

"Fashions in bonnets changed. Have ordered six mops. Don't forget the cauliflower. Postpone the wedding at once. No cards."

"Now what does that mean," murmured the expectant bridegroom. "My Bletherwitch cannot be well. I'll send her some cough lozenges." So he wrote a reply and despatched it: —

"Take some cough drops every five minutes. Have ordered cucumber for supper. Pay the cabman and come by electricity."

"That certainly should induce her to come, don't you think so? She is so very sensitive. Well, I must not be impatient, she is exceedingly charming when you catch her in the right mood."

Maude scarcely believed that the Bletherwitch could possess so many charms, or she would not keep her future husband waiting so long for her. But she knew it was useless offering any advice on so delicate a subject, so she and Willie begged the Zankiwank to be their guide and to show them the Lions of Topsy Turvey, which he readily agreed to do.

And now, as they left the post-office, they turned their attention to the shops and were surprised to read the names over the windows of several individuals they had already met in the train. For instance, the Wimble lived next door to the Wamble, and each one had printed in the window a very curious legend.

This is what the Wamble had: —

Good Resolutions Bought, Soldand ExchangedA FEW BAD, AND SOME SLIGHTLY DAMAGED,TO BE DISPOSED OF – A BARGAINNo connection with the business next door

While the Wimble stated the nature of his wares as follows: —

Bad Resolutions Bought, Soldand ExchangedA FEW GOOD, AND SOME SLIGHTLY INDIFFERENT,TO BE DISPOSED OF – A BARGAINNo connection with the business next door

"No connection with the business next door," repeated Willie.

"Why, you told us that they were brothers – twins," indignantly cried Maude.

"So they are! So they are! Don't you see they are twins from a family point of view only. In business, of course, they are desperately opposed to each other. That is why they are so prosperous," explained the Zankiwank.

"Are they prosperous? I never heard of such a thing as buying and selling Resolutions. How can one buy a Good Resolution?" enquired Maude.

"Or exchange Bad Resolutions," said Willie. "It is quite wicked."

"Not at all. Not at all. So many people make Good Resolutions and never carry them out, therefore if there were no place where you could dispose of them they would be wasted."

"But Bad Resolutions? Nobody makes Bad Resolutions – at least they ought not to, and I don't believe it is true!"

"Pardon me," interrupted the Zankiwank. "If you make a Good Resolution and don't carry it out – doesn't it become a Bad Resolution? Answer me that."

This, however, was an aspect of the question that had never occurred to them, and they were unable to reply.

"It seems to me to be nonsense – and worse than nonsense – for one brother to deal in Bad Resolutions and the other in Good Resolutions. Why do not they become a Firm and mix the two together?" responded Maude.

"You horrify me! Mix the Good and the Bad together? That would never do. The Best Resolutions in the world would be contaminated if they were all warehoused under one roof. Besides, the Wimble is himself full of Good Resolutions, so that he can mingle with the Bad without suffering any evil, while the Wamble is differently constituted!"

The children did not understand the Zankiwank's argument a bit – it all seemed so ridiculous. A sudden thought occurred to Willie.

"Who, then, collects the Resolutions?"

"Oh, a person of no Resolution whatever. He commenced life with only one Resolution, and he lost it, or it got mislaid, or he never made use of it, or something equally unfortunate, and so he was christened Want of Resolution, and he does the collecting work very well, considering all things."