Davy and The Goblin Part 7

After examining all these Davy decided that, as he had a letter in charge, he was more of a postman than anything else, and he therefore raised the knocker and rapped loudly. Immediately all the bell-pulls began flying in and out of their own accord, with a deafening clangor of bells behind the paling; and then the door swung slowly back upon its hinges.

Davy walked through the door-way and found himself in the oddest-looking little country place that could possibly be imagined. There was a little lawn laid out, on which a sort of soft fur was growing instead of gra.s.s, and here and there about the lawn, in the place of flower-beds, little footstools, neatly covered with carpet, were growing out of the fur. The trees were simply large feather-dusters, with varnished handles; but they seemed, nevertheless, to be growing in a very thriving manner, and on a little mound at the back of the lawn stood a small house, built entirely of big conch-sh.e.l.ls, with their pink mouths turned outward.

This gave the house a very cheerful appearance, as if it were constantly on a broad grin.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THE SAVAGE WAS SITTING IN THE SHADE OF ONE OF THE DUSTERS."]

To Davy's dismay, however, the savage was sitting in the shade of one of the dusters, complacently reading the little red book, and he was just wondering whether or not he would be able to get out of the place without being seen, when the little creature looked up at him with a tremendous smile on his face, and Davy saw, to his astonishment, that he was the Goblin, dressed up like an Ethiopian serenader.

"Oh! you dear, delicious old Goblin!" cried Davy, in an ecstasy of joy at again finding his travelling-companion. "And were you the savage that was chasing me just now?"

The Goblin nodded his head, and, exclaiming "My, how you did cut and run!" rolled over and over, kicking his heels about in a delirium of enjoyment.

"Goblin," said Davy, gravely, "I think we could have just as good a time without any such doings as that."

"_I_ couldn't," said the Goblin, sitting up again and speaking very positively; "it's about all the fun I have."

"Well, then," said Davy, "I wish you wouldn't be disappearing all the time. I think that is a very disagreeable habit."

"Rubbis.h.!.+" said the Goblin, with a chuckle. "That's only my way of getting a vacation."

"And where do you go?" inquired Davy; but this proved to be a very unfortunate question, for the Goblin immediately began fading away in such an alarming manner that he would certainly have gone entirely out of sight if Davy had not caught him by the coat-collar and pulled him into view again with a gentle shake.

"Oh, I beg your pardon!" said Davy, who was greatly alarmed by this narrow escape. "I really don't care to know about that; I only want to know what place this is."

The Goblin stared about him in a dazed manner for a moment, and then said, "Sindbad the Sailor's house."

"Really and truly?" said the delighted Davy.

"Really and treally truly," said the Goblin. "And here he comes now!"

Davy looked around and saw an old man coming toward them across the lawn. He was dressed in a Turkish costume, and wore a large turban and red morocco slippers turned up at the toes like skates; and his white beard was so long that at every fourth step he trod upon it and fell flat on his face. He took no notice whatever of either Davy or the Goblin, and, after falling down a number of times, took his seat upon one of the little carpet footstools, and taking off his turban began stirring about in it with a large wooden spoon. As he took off his turban Davy saw that his head, which was perfectly bald, was neatly laid out in black and white squares like a chess-board.

"This here Turk is the most reckless old story-teller that ever was born," said the Goblin, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder at Sindbad. "You can't believe half he tells you."

"I'd like to hear one of his stories, for all that," said Davy.

"All right!" said the Goblin, promptly; "just come along with me, and he'll give us a whopper."

As they started off to join Sindbad, Davy was much surprised to see that the Goblin was much taller than he had been; in fact, he was now almost up to Davy's shoulder.

"Why, I verily believe you've been growing!" exclaimed Davy, staring at him in amazement.

"I have," said the Goblin, calmly. "But I only did it to fit these clothes. It's much handier, you see, than having a suit made to order."

"But, suppose the clothes had been too small?" argued Davy.

"Then I'd have grown the other way," replied the Goblin, with an immense smile. "It doesn't make a bit of difference to me which way I grow.

Anything to be comfortable is my rule;" and as he said this they came to where Sindbad was sitting, busily stirring with his great spoon.

As Davy and the Goblin sat down beside him, Sindbad hastily put on his turban, and, after scowling at Davy for a moment, said to the Goblin, "It's no use telling _him_ anything; he's as deaf as a trunk."

"Then tell it to me," said the Goblin, with great presence of mind.

"All right," said Sindbad, "I'll give you a nautical one."

Here he rose for a moment, hitched up his big trousers like a sailor, c.o.c.ked his turban on one side of his head, and, sitting down again, began:--

_A capital s.h.i.+p for an ocean trip Was "The Walloping Window-blind;"

No gale that blew dismayed her crew Or troubled the captain's mind.

The man at the wheel was taught to feel Contempt for the wildest blow, And it often appeared, when the weather had cleared, That he'd been in his bunk below._

_The boatswain's mate was very sedate, Yet fond of amus.e.m.e.nt, too; And he played hop-scotch with the starboard watch While the captain tickled the crew.

And the gunner we had was apparently mad, For he sat on the after-rail, And fired salutes with the captain's boots, In the teeth of the booming gale._

_The captain sat in a commodore's hat, And dined, in a royal way, On toasted pigs and pickles and figs And gummery bread, each day.

But the cook was Dutch, and behaved as such; For the food that he gave the crew Was a number of tons of hot-cross buns, Chopped up with sugar and glue._

_And we all felt ill as mariners will, On a diet that's cheap and rude; And we s.h.i.+vered and shook as we dipped the cook In a tub of his gluesome food.

Then nautical pride we laid aside, And we cast the vessel ash.o.r.e On the Gulliby Isles, where the Poohpooh smiles, And the Anagazanders roar._

_Composed of sand was that favored land, And trimmed with cinnamon straws; And pink and blue was the pleasing hue Of the Tickletoeteaser's claws.

And we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge And shot at the whistling bee; And the Binnacle-bats wore water-proof hats As they danced in the sounding sea._

_On rubagub bark, from dawn to dark, We fed, till we all had grown Uncommonly shrunk,--when a Chinese junk Came by from the torriby zone.

She was stubby and square, but we didn't much care, And we cheerily put to sea; And we left the crew of the junk to chew The bark of the rubagub tree._

Here Sindbad stopped, and gazed solemnly at Davy and the Goblin.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "HE PLAYED HOP-SCOTCH WITH THE STARBOARD WATCH."]

"If you please, sir," said Davy, respectfully, "what is gummery bread?"

"It's bread stuffed with mola.s.ses," said Sindbad; "but I never saw it anywhere except aboard of 'The Prodigal Pig.'"

"But," said Davy, in great surprise, "you said the name of your s.h.i.+p was"--

"So I did, and so it was," interrupted Sindbad, testily. "The name of a s.h.i.+p sticks to it like wax to a wig. You _can't_ change it."

"Who gave it that name?" said the Goblin.

"What name?" said Sindbad, looking very much astonished.

"Why, 'The Cantering Soup-tureen,'" said the Goblin, winking at Davy.

"Oh, _that_ name," said Sindbad,--"that was given to her by the Alamagoozelum of Popjaw. But speaking of soup-tureens, let's go and have some pie;" and, rising to his feet, he gave one hand to Davy and the other to the Goblin, and they all walked off in a row toward the little sh.e.l.l house. This, however, proved to be a very troublesome arrangement, for Sindbad was constantly stepping on his long beard and falling down; and as he kept a firm hold of his companions' hands they all went down in a heap together a great many times. At last Sindbad's turban fell off, and as he sat up on the gra.s.s, and began stirring in it again with his wooden spoon, Davy saw that it was full of broken chessmen.

"It's a great improvement, isn't it?" said Sindbad.

"What is?" said Davy, very much puzzled.