The Land of Enchantment/The Maker of Ghosts and the Maker of Shadows
The Land of Enchantment
NCE upon a time there were two friends who set out together to seek their fortunes. The one was a maker of ghosts and the other a maker of shadows; and all the luggage that they took with them consisted of their trade samples done up in brown paper parcels.
They wore woolly breeches made from thistle-down and wild cotton, reaching from waist to knee, where they were tied with plaited grass; they had woolly coats fastened with small leather thongs down the front, and their thick belts of plaited grass held a number of very useful tools. Their heads were covered with caps having three points orna- mented with coloured tassels.
“Well, where shall we go first?” asked the maker of ghosts thoughtfully.
“Oh! I don’t know that it matters,” said the maker of shadows, “as long as we go forward; but look, yonder is a signpost; let us see whither it points.”
So they went up to it and read thereon:
“The very country we want!” exclaimed the maker of ghosts; and the other agreeing, they set out briskly without further hesitation.
Now, strange as it may seem, this country is not very easy to reach, nor is it peopled with many inhabitants; but the travellers were prepared to meet any difficulty and, if need be, danger; for they knew quite well that if you sit down and fold your hands together fortune will not fall into your lap.
After walking for the best part of the day, they came to a wild and rugged country, and here they struck a narrow path which led through a gorge in the hills. By-and-by it opened out into a grassy plot where was a bubbling spring, and behind it a moss-grown cave. It was an ideal spot for an encampment, and the friends at once made up their minds to stay, there for the night. Gathering some brushwood they soon had a cheerful fire burning, and just within the sheltering cave, with dry moss for a pillow, they closed their weary eyes and fell asleep.
About a couple of hours passed when the maker of ghosts awoke, and, as the fire was getting low, he got up without disturbing his friend, and hunted for more fuel. It was not easy to find, groping about in the dark, and the search led him some distance from the cave. He was just about to come back with an armful of brushwood, when he was startled by the sound of footsteps, and had barely time to throw him- self down and hide behind his burden, before there came along five fierce-looking robbers, armed to the teeth, each driving a laden mule before him.
They were astonished to find the maker of shadows asleep by the fire, and in a trice they pounced upon him, and bound him hand and foot.
All this the maker of ghosts saw as he lay quaking with fear. As he could do nothing at present to help his friend, he wisely took care of himself, and so rolled over and over ever so softly, until he was at a safe distance from the cave.
He was more frightened for his poor friend than for himself, and longed to fly to his aid. What if the robbers should kill him? It was a terrible thought! He strained his ears to catch the slightest sound. Sometimes he imagined that he heard a faint cry for help—then he fancied he heard a groan. The wind as it rustled the dry leaves made him shake, and the stillness that followed added to his fears.
At last he could bear the suspense no longer, and so, at the risk of his life, he crept cautiously back until he came within sight of the cave. There by the light of the fire he saw that four of the robbers were lying asleep, with the maker of shadows in their midst, whilst the fifth robber kept watch. Fortunately, the man did not see him, and so, somewhat comforted by the sight of his friend, but still terribly
"He was chained to the side of the cave, tightly bound and gagged."
anxious, the maker of ghosts stole back into the darkness, and passed the remaining long hours of the night without a wink of sleep.
As soon as it began to grow light, he again crept towards the cave; but when he got within ear-shot he heard the sound of voices, and had only time to conceal himself behind a stone before the robbers came out, and, mounting their mules, rode away down the gorge. He anxiously counted them one, two, three, four, five and then he knew that his friend had been left alone. But had they killed him?
When he had watched them well out of sight, he ran as fast as he could to the cave. What was his joy to see his friend alive! He was chained to the side of the cave, tightly bound and gagged.
It took such a long time to set him free that they did not consider it safe to think of immediate flight, lest the robbers should return soon and give chase, when they would be sure to be overtaken and recaptured.
After a few minutes' anxious consultation they hit on a plan which promised better, particularly as there would be no moon that night, and they set to work upon it as fast as they could.
Gathering a quantity of firewood they piled it in a great heap, and to make it blaze up quickly, they emptied over it a barrel of oil which they had found in the cave. Next they dragged some branches, and placed them in a half-circle round the brushwood, and upon them seated a goodly company of ghosts taken from their trade samples. There was a skeleton, two black men, four hideous monkeys, a witch on a broomstick, and Father Time with his scythe. On the trees behind, they arranged a background of their weirdest shadows.
When everything was ready it was quite dark, and soon the sound of hoofs was heard in the distance. At the right moment the two friends applied a light to the brushwood, and, just as the robbers turned the corner which brought them within sight of the cave, the fire burst into flame, and the whole of the gruesome and unexpected company sprang into view.
The black men groaned, the skeleton and Time whistled on their bones, the monkeys howled hideously, and the other ghosts waved and beckoned, pointing to the big pot hanging over the fire from which came forth pale green flames. The flickering light cast strange reflections, and the shadows behind added considerably to the weird effect.
The plot was completely successful: the mules plunged right and left.; the robbers turned and fled, tripping one another up, scrambling and racing for dear life. One of them, venturing to look back, saw to his horror the monkeys and a lanky skeleton in full chase.
This was the finishing touch. Flinging away even their weapons to lighten them, the robbers ran faster than before, and for aught that history records may be running yet!
The monkeys and skeleton were borne by the maker of ghosts and his friend back to the scene of their triumph, and then they found time to examine the robbers' hoard.
There was a great deal of treasure in the cave, but it was mostly bulky, and they could only fill their pockets with some of the lighter valuables the rest of the things they buried. Then, picking their way as best they might up the gorge, they again fared forward, and by noon approached the land of Common-Sense, crossing a narrow strip of neutral ground, scattered over with old signposts and milestones, where all those who had lost their senses might find them again. Indeed, they had gone but a few steps when they chanced to meet the right minds of two lunatics.
With them they had some talk, but they were sad, and the reason soon came out: they were shadowless, and, "until we get shadows," they said, "we can't be happy."
So the maker of shadows set to work at once, and made them such a beautiful pair that they jumped for joy, and gladly paid a good round sum for them, not in gold or silver, but in grains of common-sense, which was the current coin in this region.
The maker of ghosts and the maker of shadows went on their way invigorated by the fresh and balmy air, which was full of the smell of roses and the song of birds. The fleecy clouds were tinged with the beautiful hues of rainbows; butterflies flashed their golden-purple 
"The robbers turned and fled" (p. 12).
wings in the sunshine, and bees were abroad humming drowsily from flower to flower.
So happy did the friends feel that one of them sang whilst the other played an accompaniment on the ghost of a fiddle:
“Kiddlewinko joss sticks losp,
I sing the lay of the wicked wasp;
“Who—krimee gimbo gingerly kose,
Bit the goblin-barons′ nose,
“But samary sugary pongo sly,
The baron hit him in the eye:
“Rumble jumble rokey tort,
The triumph of that wasp was short.”
Thus beguiling the way, the two friends entered the land of Common-Sense and in due time reached the capital. It was perched on the spur of some high hills, and the zigzag path which led to it had been hewn out of the solid rock. This path was overlooked by the king's castle, which stood on the very verge of a precipice, and could only be reached by a narrow bridge.
His Majesty, however, had to content himself with some very modest private apartments in the town, for his castle was haunted. None knew what evil deeds had been done there, but, at the witching hour of night, awful and blood-curdling were the groans and shrieks which rent the air. Crimson cats burning with internal fires, with flaming eyes and rolling tongues, appeared at times upon the battlements. Sometimes a black omnibus, full of skeletons, drawn by griffins, and driven by a Kofer in yellow tights, with a cocked hat and a lavender tie, was seen to enter beneath the gloomy portcullis.
Now the king had been for a long time engaged to a beautiful and amiable princess, but they were too poor to marry. The cellars of the castle were known to be full of common-sense, but it could not be got at, and the king had promised a third of his realm to whosoever should disenchant the building and deliver the treasure into his hands. How many had made the attempt and failed the chasm in front gave ghastly proof, for it was full of the bodies of victims.
And yet there existed a charm for disenchanting the castle written in rhyme and handed down from father to son; but unfortunately there was lacking the common-sense to interpret it.
Now the maker of shadows and the maker of ghosts had plenty of common-sense, and having a copy of the charm they carefully considered it. It ran thus:
“Shadow of royalty firmly clasp
Round what you hold but cannot grasp:
Thread with the bristles of a hog
The eye-tooth of the jolliwog:
The ingredients bray in a mortar well,
Whilst ninety and nine you quickly tell.
Then when the thunderstorm's begun,
And the turret clock is striking one,
Sprinkle it well on the courtyard floor,
Sprinkle it well on the castle door.
Sneeze not, nor pause to say ‘Oh my!’
‘Potwillikins!’ or ‘Nelly Bly!’
“A black omnibus … driven by
a Kofer in yellow tights … was
seen to enter” (p. 14).
“Then only shall the enchantment fall
From turret, keep, and embattled wall,
And plentiful stores of common-sense
Shall be your well-earned recompense.”
The two pored over the paper doubtful and perplexed. To begin with, the shadow of royalty must be genuine or the charm would not work. The only royalty they knew anything of was the king, but his shadow was sacred, and it might be dangerous to ask him to part with it. Those who addressed him always did so in such words as these: “May your gracious Majesty's august shadow never be less!” Taking another standpoint, the lion was the king of beasts, the eagle the king of birds: would their shadows be truly royal? They thought not.
But the shadow must be clasped round what they could hold but could not grasp! A slippery eel? No. A red hot poker? Of course not. What could it be?
And then again, the eye-tooth of a jolliwog! "What was the jolliwog? An animal perhaps, or perhaps a fish; at any rate, they had never before heard of such a creature.
Well, not to lose valuable time, the maker of ghosts set to work to puzzle out by himself the second, third, and fourth lines, whilst the maker of shadows went to call upon the king. Sending in his card, he was at once admitted to the royal presence, when he frankly spoke of the intentions of his friend and himself, and how in the well-known charm for disenchanting the castle a royal shadow was a necessary part.
His Majesty's interest was at once aroused.
“You are heartily welcome to my shadow,” said he, “so far as my own feelings are concerned, but public opinion would not sanction the loss, I am quite sure.”
“Your Majesty's gracious words give me hope,” replied the maker of shadows; and then he made known an idea which was floating in his head. It was that he should make a shadow for the king in all respects like the real one. That when it was ready he should bring it with him, and at noon, when the real shadow was at its smallest, he should take that off very carefully and substitute for it the one he had prepared.
The king prudently asked to see some shadows as a proof of the artist's skill. So the next day a few samples were submitted for his inspection, with which he was so well pleased that the maker of shadows set to work at once on the new shadow, and when it was finished he brought it to the king.
So at mid-day the royal shadow was carefully put into a bottle and corked, and the new shadow so skilfully substituted that those who afterwards came to call, repeated “May your gracious Majesty's 
“A few samples were submitted” (p. 16).
august shadow never be less,” without hesitation.
So far successful, the maker of shadows now asked the king about the jolliwog.
“I don't know myself,” said- he, “but I will write you a letter of introduction to a very wise philosopher, who, I think, can give you the information.”
Now this learned individual lived in a remote and desert place. Here was a clump of camphor trees, and the hollow trunk of one of the largest of them served for a residence, the smell of the wood being admirably calculated to keep away ants and prevent the philosopher from taking cold. There was
close at hand a library fashioned in the same way, a museum, an aviary, and an observatory, whilst a small kitchen-garden supplied his daily needs. The philosopher would sometimes remark to a chance visitor in his simple unaffected way: “What more do I want?”
His appearance at once commanded respect, for he was as bald as a looking-glass, and his snowy beard touched the ground. His present occupation was the translation of the language of birds, several being there to assist him at that very moment. When the maker of shadows presented himself, he courteously set the work aside, and, having read the introductory letter, asked in what way he could be of service.
“I am anxious,” said the maker of shadows, “to know what the jolliwog is, and how I can obtain his eye-tooth?”
“Ah!” replied the philosopher; and with this profound remark retired to his hammock, motioning his visitor to occupy his camp-stool.
After some time had passed the philosopher again appeared, and going to his museum, selected a phial. This he handed to the maker of shadows, saying—
“The jolliwog is swift of flight,
Sharp his eye and keen his sight;
Greased lightning is the only thing
With which to catch him on the wing.
If to his haunts you′d like to go,
A stork shall take you to and fro.”
And he waved his hand towards a group of birds standing near.
"Ever so many thanks,” said the maker of shadows. "May I further trespass upon your kindness by asking you to allow another of your birds to carry a message to my friend that he may know where I have gone?”
"With pleasure,” replied the philosopher; and then he called, "Mercury! Mercury!” for that was the name of his carrier pigeon, who at once set out with his message for the capital of Common-Sense, whilst the stork, with the maker of shadows on his back, departed in quest of the jolliwog.
Meanwhile, the shadow of royalty had long since been bottled, but the maker of ghosts had in vain racked his brains to discover what he might hold but could not grasp. With his hair rumpled all over his head he sat the image of despair, when he heard a tap at the door.
"Who′s there?” said he.
"I, Mercury, with a message,” replied a small voice. The maker of ghosts started violently, and changed colour.
"I′ve got it! Mercury!” he said with a knowing smile. Then he opened the door. The bird delivered his message, and flew back again to his master.
When he had gone, the maker of ghosts sat down to dinner and made a hearty meal, for he had not eaten for ever so many hours through anxiety and worry, and his mind was now at rest.
By-and-by he put on his cap, and went into the town to make a purchase. Mercury! Yes! That was what he wanted, for that is what you can hold but cannot grasp! He also bought a mortar and a hog's bristle. Then taking the shadow of royalty he carefully clasped it around the mercury, and rebottling, calmly awaited the return of his friend.
The land to which the stork was flying with the maker of shadows 
“He
jumped
down the
crevice”
(p. 20).
is so seldom visited that, should you look in the very largest atlas, the probability is you would not find it. It is hemmed in by a natural rampart of high mountains, and the country beyond is full of fissures, and clefts, and chasms dangerous and treacherous. Solitary, inaccessible, under the light of garish sun or silver moon, in the heat of summer or cold of winter, the jolliwog might well smile a smile expressive of peace and security, as he basked by the side of a big crevice close to his home. Yes! he smiled, and closed his eyes in sleep.
But he would not have felt so comfortable had he been aware of the threatened danger, for the stork with its rider flew overhead, keeping a sharp look-out below. To and fro, and hither and thither, they had gone, and every inch of ground they had narrowly examined, but never a sign of the jolliwog ! They were tired and almost ready to give it up, when the bird spied the object of their search, and giving the maker of shadows the joyful news, swooped downwards.
Perhaps the jolliwog heard the sound of the wings, perhaps the uncorking of the bottle of greased lightning aroused him; at any rate he woke up in a fright, and jumped down the crevice.
But quick as were his movements, the greased lightning was quicker, and caught him on the wing.
The maker of shadows then deftly extracted his eye-tooth, and wrapping it carefully in tissue paper put the parcel in his breast pocket. Then the two returned in great glee to the land of Common-Sense.
It may be imagined what mutual congratulations passed between the two friends when the maker of shadows reached the capital. The bottles were produced, and, a neat hole being made in the jolliwog′s tooth, it was threaded with the hog's bristle. Then they fell to pounding and mixing all the ingredients in a mortar as they quickly counted ninety-nine.
This done, they awaited a change of weather, as the spell could only be broken during a thunderstorm.
One day it was close and threatening; the longed-for storm was evidently not far off. On the morrow the atmosphere was stiflingly oppressive, but though there was no air stirring, all along the eastward horizon a frowning black rampart of clouds reared itself, slowly mounting higher and higher until it blotted out the sun. Birds with startled cries flew hither and thither, and folk out of doors, after a glance at the angry sky, hurried to get under cover. Then it was completely dark, and Nature seemed to hold her breath in awful expectation.
Suddenly from out of the gloom there came a vivid flash of lightning, almost blinding in its intensity, and then the thunder pealed in a succession of crashes which made the houses shake. Great drops of rain as big as pennies splashed on the ground.
Faster and faster came the rain, and the thunder roared till it was deafening, and the gutters of the town were like mountain torrents.
At midnight the two adventurers prepared to sally forth, each taking a part of the mixture, for they divided the charm between them. There was a sulphurous smell in the air, and the dazzling flashes of lightning rather confused the sight than helped to show the way.
Now when they reached the narrow causeway it wanted but five minutes to one o'clock, so binding their upper lips to prevent a sneeze, they began their perilous passage. The wind roared and they could hardly stand against it, so they crouched on all fours, and held on like 
“A troop of gigantic cats, with flashing eyes” (p. 22).
grim death. Half way across, so fearful a gust assailed them that they were all but hurled into the depths below.
Suddenly above the thunder resounded a mighty crash! The port-cullis was raised, and the black omnibus with its ghastly freight, and the Kofer in yellow tights and lavender tie lashing the griffins, issued from the gloomy portal and galloped across the causeway.
The two friends seizing their opportunity hurried forward, and entered beneath the portcullis belore it fell. Immediately the turret clock boomed one! The maker of ghosts at once opened his bottle and sprinkled the door, whilst his friend sprinkled the courtyard floor.
As they did so, the earth suddenly yawned beneath them, and from it rose a dense cloud of cayenne pepper, the dust of chillies, and the most powerful snuff. Fortunate it was that they had bandaged their upper lips, otherwise they must inevitably have sneezed!
But half the mixture had been sprinkled when there was heard a hurried scampering and fearful howling, and a troop of gigantic cats with flashing eyes, rolling tongues, and all aglow with internal fires, sprang upon them from the front.
To await their approach seemed like courting instant destruction, but, remembering the warning in the verses of the charm, they went on with their business, although their hair stood on end, their teeth chattered, their blood ran cold, and the very marrow of their bones was chilled.
As the last particle of the mixture was used, there came a blinding flash of lightning, and the maker of ghosts and the maker of shadows fell at full length and knew no more.
'When they recovered consciousness they could not at first recognise their surroundings. The storm had passed, the air was clear, and the silver radiance of the moon shone softly on wall and tower. No horrid cats were to be seen, no fearful sounds were to be heard, for the charm had wrought its magical effect, and the castle was completely disenchanted.
The joy of the king may be imagined. With a total disregard of etiquette, he immediately hurried off with his sweetheart to the castle to confirm the good news with his own eyes. The Chancellor of the Exchequer too examined the cellars, and found them filled with common-sense beyond his most sanguine expectations.
The king's marriage was forthwith celebrated. It was followed by a banquet to which the maker of ghosts and the maker of shadows were specially invited, and, as the most honoured guests, occupied seats to the right and left of the royal pair.
His Majesty made a speech in which he warmly thanked and praised the two strangers, and he wound up by confirming his promise of a third of his kingdom as a reward for their memorable services.
The maker of ghosts, responding for himself and his friend, prudently declined the offer as not being suitable to their station, and respectfully suggested that common-sense would be of more service to them. The request was at once granted in a most liberal spirit; and thus was laid the foundation of the fortunes of the maker of ghosts and the maker of shadows.