The Greatest Christmas Novels Collection (Illustrated Edition). Лаймен ФрÑнк Баум
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with all sorts of queer-looking dishes, decorated with fern leaves, Papa Bushy, in a moss arm-chair, his tail comfortably waving over him like an umbrella, was already installed.
'I beg your pardon, my dear young friends,' he began, in a rather deeper, though still squeaky voice, 'for receiving you like this. Mrs. Bushy will have made my apologies. This unfortunate attack of gout! I am, I fear, too actively inclined, and have knocked myself up!'
'Ah, yes,' said Mrs. Bushy, shaking her head; 'I'm sure if Mr. Bushy goes once a day to the top of the tree, he goes twenty times.'
'But what does he go for if it makes him ill?' exclaimed Maia.
Mrs. Bushy looked at her and gasped, Mr. Bushy shut his eyes and waved his paws about as if to say, 'We must excuse her, she knows no better,' and all the young Bushys ducked their heads and squeaked faintly,—evidently Maia had said something very startling. At last, when she had to some extent recovered her self-control, Mrs. Bushy said faintly, looking round her for sympathy:
'Poor child! Such deplorable ignorance; but we must excuse it. Imagine her not knowing—imagine any one not knowing what would happen if Mr. Bushy did not go to the top of the tree!'
'What would happen?' said Maia, not sure if she felt snubbed or not, but not inclined to give in all at once.
'My poor child,' said Mrs. Bushy, in the most solemn tone her squeaky voice was capable of, 'the world would stop!'
Maia stared at her, but what she was going to say I cannot tell you, for Silva managed to give her a little pinch, as a sign that she had better make no more remarks, and Mrs. Bushy, feeling that she had done her duty, requested everybody to take their places at table. The dishes placed before them were so comical-looking that Rollo and Maia did not know what to reply when asked what they would have.
'An apple, if you please!' said Maia, catching sight at last of something she knew the name of. But when Mrs. Bushy pressed her to try a chestnut cake she did not like to refuse, and seeing that Waldo and Silva were careful to eat like the squirrels, holding up both hands together like paws to their mouths, she and Rollo did the same, which evidently gave the Bushy family a better opinion of the way in which they had been brought up. The chestnut cakes were rather nice, but poor Rollo, having ventured on some fried acorns which smelt good, could not help pulling a very wry face. Supper, however, was soon over, and then Waldo and Silva asked leave very politely to go 'up the tree,' which in squirrel language was much the same as if they had asked to go out to the garden, and Mrs. Bushy, with many excuses for not accompanying them on account of her household cares, and Mr. Bushy, pleading his gout, told her nine darlings to escort the visitors upstairs.
Now began the real fun of the afternoon. A short flight of steps, like a little ladder, led them to the outside of the tree. The nine Bushys scampered and rushed along, squeaking and chattering with the greatest good-nature, followed more slowly by the four children. For a moment or two, when Rollo and Maia found themselves standing on a branch very near the top of the tree, though, strange to say, they found it wide enough to hold them quite comfortably, they felt rather giddy and frightened.
'How dreadfully high up we seem!' said Maia. 'Rollo, I'm sure we must have grown smaller. The trees never looked so big as this before. It makes me giddy to look either up or down.'
'You'll get used to it in a minute,' said Waldo. 'Silva and I don't mind it the least now. Look at the Bushys, Maia, isn't it fun to see them?'
And Maia forgot her fears in watching the nine young squirrels. Had Mrs. Bushy been with them, her maternal vanity would have been gratified by the admiration their exploits drew forth. It really was the funniest and prettiest sight in the world to see them at their gambols. No dancers on the tight-rope were ever half so clever. They swung themselves up by the branches to the very top of the tree, and then in an instant—flash!—there they were ever so far below where the children were standing. And in another instant, like a brown streak, up they were again, darting hither, there, and everywhere, so that one felt as if the whole tree were alive. When they had a little worked off their spirits they squeaked to the children to join them; Waldo and Silva did so at once, for they were used to these eccentric gymnastics, and to Rollo and Maia they looked nearly as clever as the squirrels themselves, as, holding on by their companions' paws and tails, they jumped and clambered and slid up and down. So in a little while the new-comers too took courage and found the performances, like many other things, not half so hard as they looked. And oh, how they all laughed and screamed, and how the squirrels squeaked with enjoyment! I don't think ever children before had such fun. Fancy the pleasure of swaying in a branch ever so far overhead quite safe, for there were the nine in a circle ready to catch you if you slipped, and then hand in hand, or rather hand in paw, dancing round the trunk by hopping two and two from branch to branch, nine squirrels and four children—a merry baker's dozen. Then the sliding down the tree, like a climber on a May-pole, was great fun too, for the Bushys had a way of twisting themselves round it so as to avoid the sticking-out branches that was really very clever. So that when suddenly, in the middle of it all, a little silvery tinkling bell was heard to ring, and they all stood still looking at each other, Rollo and Maia felt quite vexed at the interruption.
I don't think ever children before had such fun.
'Go on,' said Maia, 'what are you all stopping for?'
'The summons,' said Waldo and Silva together. 'We must go. Good-night, all of you,' to the squirrels. Had their mother been there, I fancy they would have addressed Clamberina and her brothers and sisters more ceremoniously. 'Good-bye, and thank you for all the fun.'
'Good-bye, and thank you,' said Rollo and Maia, rather at a loss as to whether they should offer to shake paws, or if that was not squirrel fashion. But before they had time to consider, 'Quick,' said a voice behind them, which they were not slow to recognise, 'slide down the tree,' and down they slid, all four, though, giving one glance upwards, they caught sight of the nine squirrels all seated in a row on a branch, each with their pocket-handkerchief at their eyes, weeping copiously.
'Poor things,' said Maia, 'how tender-hearted they are!'
'They always do that when we come away,' said Waldo; 'it's part of their manners. But they are very good-natured.'
'And where's godmother,' said Maia, when they found themselves on terra-firma again. 'Wasn't it her voice that spoke to us up on the tree, and told us to come down?'
'Yes,' said Silva; 'but she called up through a speaking-trumpet. I don't know where she is herself. She may be a good way off. But that doesn't matter. We can tell what to do. Lay your ear to the ground, Waldo.'
Waldo did so.
'Are they coming,' asked Silva.
'Yes,' said Waldo, getting up; 'they'll be here directly;' and almost before he had left off speaking the pretty sound of tinkling bells was heard approaching, nearer and nearer every second, till the children, to their delight, caught sight of the little carriage and the tiny piebald ponies, which came dancing up to them all of themselves, and stood waiting for them to get in.
'But where's godmother?' exclaimed Maia; 'how can we get home without her?'
'All right,' said Waldo; 'she often lends Silva and me her ponies. I can drive you home quite safely, you'll see. Get in, Maia and Silva behind—Rollo and I will go in front.'
And off they set. It was not quite such a harum-scarum drive as it had been coming. Waldo did not take any flying leaps—indeed, I think nobody but godmother herself could have managed that! but it was very delightful all the same.
'Oh, Silva,' exclaimed Maia, 'I do so wish we need not go back to the white castle and Lady Venelda and our lessons! I do so wish we might live in the cottage with you and Waldo, always.'
Silva looked a little sorry when Maia spoke thus.
'Don't say that, Maia,' she said. 'Godmother wouldn't like it. We want to make you happy while you're here—not to make you impatient. If you and Rollo were always at