Soap-Bubble Stories Part 22

"I want my poor old Granny to be well again," he said, looking the Fozzy-gog bravely in the face--"and I don't want naught else. If you'll do that, I'll promise anything--that's to say, anything in reason," added 'Zekiel, who prided himself on this diplomatic finish to his sentence--which was one he had frequently heard his grandmother make use of in moments of state and ceremony.

The Fozzy-gog appeared to be favourably impressed by 'Zekiel's request. He rose from his chair, and waved his paw graciously.

"We dismiss this gathering!" he cried. "And you, Pyetangle"--pointing to 'Zekiel's china dog--"take your master home, and bring him to our meeting at the cross-roads to-morrow at midnight. Do not fail.

Farewell!"

As he spoke the Fozzy-gog shrank and stiffened. His black curls acquired their usual glaze, and he had just time to jump upon the shelf above the shop window, before he froze into his immovable china self again.

The other dogs disappeared through the open kitchen cas.e.m.e.nt; and 'Zekiel found himself in the village street without in the least knowing how he got there!

It was almost dark as he ran home, but as he swung open the garden gate, he fancied he saw something white standing exactly in the centre of the pathway. He was sure he heard a faint barking, and a voice whispered--"Wait a minute, 'Zekiel, I want to talk to you." 'Zekiel retreated a step, and sat down gasping on a flower bed.

"I want to talk to you," repeated the little voice.

'Zekiel craned forward, though he was trembling with fright, and saw in the fast gathering shadows his own china dog, standing beside Granny Pyetangle's favourite lavender bush--though how it managed to get there so quickly he could not imagine! He stretched out his hand to stroke it, and started up, as instead of the cold china, he felt the soft curls of a fluffy fur coat.

"Tell me what it all means! Oh, do'ee, now!" said 'Zekiel, almost crying.

The china dog sat down by 'Zekiel's side, and putting one paw affectionately on his knee, looked up in his face, with his honest yellow eyes.

"The Fozzy-gog has commissioned me to explain all about it," he said confidentially. "So don't be frightened, and no harm will come of it!

Twice every month (if we can escape un.o.bserved) we take the form of ordinary dogs, and meet together to amuse ourselves, or to work for our owners. There are many of us in the village, and as the Fozzy-gog is our ruler, we are bound to obey him, and to work more for old Dame Fossie than for anybody else. Yesterday we knew she was going to visit her married daughter. We determined to have a thorough house-cleaning, and were just in the midst of it when you came in! It was a good thing the Fozzy-gog happened to be in a good temper, and knew you well! We have never before been discovered. He is a hasty temper, and it certainly _was_ irritating!"

'Zekiel began to recover from his terror, and grasped the china dog by the paw. He felt proud to think that his ideas about china dogs had proved true. They were not merely "chaney"--as Eli and Hercules contemptuously expressed it; but were really as much alive as he was himself, after all!

"However did you manage to get out of Granny Pyetangle's cupboard?"

enquired 'Zekiel, curiously.

"Oh, I put those lazy greyhounds and the shepherdess at it," replied the china dog. "They worked all night, and managed to undo the latch early this afternoon. They're bound to work for me like all the inferior china things," and he shook his head superciliously.

"And now," said 'Zekiel, "please tell me how the Fozzy-gog is going to get my Granny well."

"Ah, that I mayn't tell you," said the china dog. "You must come with me to-morrow night to the Dog-wood, and you will hear all about it."

As he spoke, he began to shrink and stiffen in the same remarkable way as the Fozzy-gog, and a moment after he was standing in his ordinary shape in the centre of the cobblestone pathway.

The moonlight shone upon his quaint little figure and the golden padlock at his neck. 'Zekiel sprang up just as the cottage door opened, and a neighbour came out calling, "'Zekiel! 'Zekiel! Drat the lad! Where be you gone to?"

'Zekiel tucked the china dog under his arm and hurried in, receiving a good scolding from Granny Pyetangle and her friend for "loitering,"

but he felt so light-hearted and cheerful, the hard words fell round him quite harmlessly.

"Granny 'll be well to-morrow! Granny 'll be well to-morrow!" he kept repeating to himself over and over again, and he ran into the kitchen just before going to bed to make sure the things in the corner cupboard were safely shut away for the night.

'Zekiel hardly knew how he got through the next day, so impatient was he for the evening. Granny Pyetangle was certainly worse. The neighbours came in and shook their heads sadly over her, and Dame Fossie hobbled up from her shop and offered to spend the night there, as it was "no' fit for young lads to have such responsibilities"--and this offer 'Zekiel eagerly accepted.

As soon as it grew dusk, he unlatched the door of the oak cupboard; and then being very tired--for he had worked hard since daylight--he sat down in Granny Pyetangle's large chair, and in a minute was fast asleep.

He was awakened by a series of pulls at his smock-frock; and starting up he saw that it was quite dark, except for the glow of a few ashes on the hearth-stone, and that the china dog, grown to the same size as he had been the evening before, was trying to arouse him.

"Wake up, 'Zekiel!" he said in a low voice. "Dame Fossie is upstairs with your Granny, and we must be off."

'Zekiel rubbed his eyes, and taking his cap down from a peg, and tying a check comforter round his neck, he followed the china dog from the kitchen, and closed and latched the door behind him.

Out in the moonlit street, the china dog kept as much as possible in the shadow of the houses; 'Zekiel following, his hob-nailed boots _click_, _clicking_ against the rough stones as he stumbled sleepily along.

They soon left the village behind them, and plunged into a wood, which, stretching for miles across hill and dale, was known to be a favourite haunt of smugglers.

'Zekiel instantly became very wide awake indeed, and unpleasant cold s.h.i.+vers ran down his back, as he thought he saw black and white forms gliding amongst the trees, and yellow eyes glancing at him between the bare branches.

"It isn't smugglers. It's the dogs galloping to the meeting place,"

said the china dog, who seemed able to read 'Zekiel's thoughts in a very unnatural manner.

They soon left the rough pathway they had been following, and 'Zekiel, clinging to the china dog's paw, found himself in the densest part of the wood, which was only dimly lighted by a few scattered moonbeams.

"We are getting near the Dog-wood now," said the china dog as they hurried on, and in another moment they came out on to the middle of a clearing, round which a dense thicket of red-stemmed dog-wood bushes grew in the greatest luxuriance.

In the centre was a large square stone, like a stand; on which sat the Fozzy-gog, surrounded by about fifty china dogs of all shapes and sizes, but each one with a gold padlock and chain round his neck, without which none were admitted to the secret society of the "Fozzy-gogs."

'Zekiel was drawn reluctantly into the magic circle, while every dog wagged his tail as a sign of friendly greeting.

The Fozzy-gog nodded graciously, and immediately the dogs commenced a wild dance, with many leaps and bounds; round the stone on which their ruler was seated.

The moonlight shone brightly on their glancing white coats; and behind rustled the great oak trees, their boughs twisted into fantastic forms, amidst which the wind whistled eerily.

'Zekiel shuddered as he looked at the strange scene, and longed sincerely to be back again in his little bed at Granny Pyetangle's.

"However, it won't do to show I'm afraid, or don't like it," he said to himself, so he capered and hopped with the others until he was quite giddy and exhausted, and forced to sit down on a gra.s.sy bank to recover himself.

"The trees are playing very well to-night," said a dog as he skipped by. "Come and have another dance?" and he flew round and round like a humming top.

'Zekiel shook his head several times. He was so out of breath he could only gasp hurriedly--"No, no! No more, thank you!" but his friend had already disappeared.

The Fozzy-gog now approached him. He carried something in his paw, which he placed in 'Zekiel's hand.

"Put this on Grandmother Pyetangle's forehead when you return to-night--promise that you will keep silence for ever about what you have seen--and to-morrow she will be well!"

"I promise," said 'Zekiel. "Oh, Fozzy-gog! I'll never forget it!"

"No thanks," said the Fozzy-gog. "I like deeds more than words.

Pyetangle shall take you home."

He beckoned to 'Zekiel's dog, who came up rather sulkily--and 'Zekiel found himself outside the magic circle, and well on his way home, almost before he could realize that they had started!

As he entered Granny Pyetangle's little garden, he saw that a light was still burning in her attic.

He went softly into the kitchen. It was quite dark, but a ray of moonlight enabled him to see the china dog open the cupboard; and, rapidly shrinking, place himself on his proper shelf again.

'Zekiel then took off his boots, ran up the creaking stairs, and tapped softly at Granny Pyetangle's bedroom. No one answered, so he pushed open the door.