Davy and the Goblin/Chapter II
The first thought that came into Davy’s mind when he found himself out-of-doors was that he had started off on his journey without his hat, and he was therefore exceedingly pleased to find that it had stopped snowing and that the air was quite still and delightfully balmy and soft. The moon was shining brightly, and as he looked back at the house he was surprised to see that the window through which they had come, and which he was quite sure had always been a straight-up-and-down, old-fashioned window, was now a round affair, with flaps running to a point in the centre, like the holes the harlequin jumps through in the pantomime.
“How did that window ever get changed into a round hole?” he asked the Goblin, pointing to it in great astonishment.
“Oh,” said the Goblin, carelessly, “that’s one of the circular singumstances that happen on a Believing Voyage. It’s nothing to what you’ll see before we come back again. Ah!” he added, “there comes the Colonel!”
Sure enough, at this moment the Colonel’s head appeared through the flaps. The clock was still in his arms, and he seemed to be having a great deal of trouble in getting it through, and his head kept coming into view and then disappearing again behind the flaps in so ridiculous a manner that Davy shouted with laughter, and the Goblin smiled harder than ever. Suddenly the poor little man made a desperate plunge, and had almost made his way out when the flaps shut to with a loud snap and caught him about the waist. In his efforts to free himself he dropped his clock to the ground outside, when it burst with a loud explosion, and the house instantly disappeared.
This was so unexpected, and seemed so serious a matter, that Davy was much distressed, wondering what had become of his dear old grandmother, and Mrs. Frump, the cook, and Mary Farina, the housemaid, and Solomon, the cat. However, before he had time to make any inquiries of the Goblin, his grandmother came dropping down through the air in her rocking-chair. She was quietly knitting, and her chair was gently rocking as she went by. Next came Mrs. Frump, with her apron quite full of kettles and pots, and then Mary Farina, sitting on a step-ladder with the coal-scuttle in her lap. Solomon was nowhere to be seen. Davy, looking over the side of the clock, saw them disappear, one after the other, in a large tree on the lawn, and the Goblin informed him that they had fallen into the kitchen of a witch-hazel tree, and would be well taken care of. Indeed, as the clock sailed over the tree, Davy saw that the trunk of it was hollow, and that a bright light was shining far underground; and, to make the matter quite sure, a smell of cooking was coming up through the hole. On one of the topmost boughs of the tree was a nest with two sparrows in it, and he was much astonished at discovering that they were lying side by side, fast asleep, with one of his mittens spread over them for a coverlet. I am sorry to say that Davy knew perfectly well where the other mitten was, and was ashamed to say anything about it.
The rabbit takes liberties with Davy’s property.
“I suppose my shoes are somewhere about,” he said, sadly. “Perhaps the squirrels are filling them with nuts.”
“You’re quite right,” replied the Goblin, cheerfully; “and there’s a rabbit over by the hedge putting dried leaves into your hat. I rather fancy he’s about moving into it for the winter.”
Davy was about to complain against such liberties being taken with his property, when the clock began rolling over in the air, and he had just time to grasp the sides of it to keep himself from falling out.
“Don’t be afraid!” cried the Goblin, “she’s only rolling a little;” and, as he said this, the clock steadied itself and sailed serenely away past the spire of the village church and off over the fields.
Davy now noticed that the Goblin was glowing with a bright, rosy light, as though a number of candles were burning in his stomach and shining out through his scarlet clothes.
“That’s the coals he had for his supper,” thought Davy; but, as the Goblin continued to smile complacently and seemed to be feeling quite comfortable, he did not venture to ask any questions, and went on with his thoughts. “I suppose he’ll soon have smoke coming out of his nose, as if he were a stove. If it were a cold night I’d ask him to come and sit in my lap. I think he must be as warm as a piece of toast;” and the little boy was laughing softly to himself over this conceit, when the Goblin, who had been staring intently at the sky, suddenly ducked his head, and cried “Squalls!” and the next moment the air was filled with cats falling in a perfect shower from the sky. They were of all sizes and colors,—big cats, little cats, black cats, white cats, gray cats, yellow, spotted and brindle cats, and at least a dozen of them fell sprawling into the clock. Among them, to Davy’s dismay, was Solomon, with the other mitten drawn over his head and the thumb sticking straight up like a horn. This gave him a very extraordinary appearance, and the other cats evidently regarded him with the gravest distrust as they clustered together at Davy’s end of the clock, leaving Solomon standing quite alone, and complaining in a muffled voice as he tugged frantically at the mitten.
“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 a cockalorum,” he softly murmured.
“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.