CHAPTER XVI.THE PREHISTORIC DOCTOR.
“I can’t imagine,” said Dick, “why you think such a lot of those wretched old gloves. They seem to have got you into quite enough trouble already.”
“They look so respectable,” explained the Dodo, “and give one such an air. You haveneverbefore seen a bird wearing gloves, now, have you?” he added, appealing to the company generally, who were obliged to flatter his vanity by confessing that they never had.
Dick, however, in a spirit of pure mischief, decided to play him a trick. So, when the Dodo, having put on one glove, strutted away to show off before the Archæopteryx, leaving the other one behind him, Dick quickly picked it up and put it on himself, then calling to aid the power which the Panjandrum’s Ambassador had given him of being able to make himself whatever size he wished, he cried, “I wish to beas big as the biggest giant that ever lived,” and immediately became so tall that the Palæotherium and the Eterædarium, who were standing near, fled in dismay, while Marjorie and Fidge looked up with the greatest of admiration to their now big—big brother.
Dick then telling them, in a voice that sounded like thunder, to stand aside, took off the glove, which had, of course, grown with him, and threw it on to the ground, where it lay a huge mass of coarse leather as manyfeetlong as it had formerly beeninches, and with buttons almost as big as dinner plates.
It was, of course, the easiest matter imaginable for Dick to reduce himself to his proper size again, while the glove remained as it was, and this he very quickly did, to the evident relief of the poor Palæotherium and the Eterædarium, who had been trembling and quaking behind a clump of trees, and looking with the greatest disquietude at these extraordinary proceedings.
“This is fine growing weather, Sir,” remarked the Palæotherium, respectfully, as he came forwardand stood by Dick beside the enormous glove.
"'Is that it?' asked Dick.""'Is that it?' asked Dick."
Dick laughed, and rather delighted in the evident impression which he had made upon the creatures by his performance, and a moment after the Dodo returned, looking about him eagerly in search of his lost property.
“What’s the matter?” inquired Dick, solicitously.
“Er—have any of you seen a white kid glove lying about?” said the Dodo, anxiously.
“Is that it?” asked Dick, pointing to the enormous object lying at his feet.
The Dodo gave a start.
“Er—er—oh—my!” he exclaimed. “I do believe—why, surely it isn’t—yes—yes—bless me, if I don’t believe that it reallyismy glove. Why, whatever has happened to it?”
“It certainly looks rather large for you,” remarked the Palæotherium.
“Large! why it’s prodigious!” exclaimed the Dodo.
“What size do you wear?” asked Marjorie, who was enjoying the fun.
The Dodo undid the glove which he had on and looked inside.
“Sevens,” he remarked.
“And this,” said Dick, kicking the enormous glove open, “is marked ninety-nines!”
“I don’t believe Icouldwear that size,” said the bird, disconsolately. “Whatever is to be done?”
“I should get inside it altogether, if I were you,” suggested Dick.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said the Dodo, beginning to cry. “It’s bad enough to—to—have one’s gloves car—carrying on in this fas-fashion, without being laughed at by—by a parcel of cre—creatures that don’t care anything about their per—per—personal appearance, and who—who nev—never wore a p—p—pair of gloves in their lives!”
“Oh!” cried Marjorie, “I’m surewewear gloves when we are at home, don’t we, Dick?”
“Of course,” said he.
“And me, too,” declared Fidge; “me wears goves.”
“I don’t believe it,” sobbed the Dodo; “and if I did, I wouldn’t, so there!”
“I think you are an awful cry-baby,” said Dick; “I should be ashamed, if I were you, to be always sniveling about nothing.”
The Dodo didn’t answer, but sat down beside the enormous glove, and continued to sob and cry till his eyes, which were never very beautiful, became swollen and red, and his littlelace handkerchief was wringing wet with his tears.
Marjorie, in her kind-hearted way, tried to comfort him, and privately suggested to Dick that, as the poor bird seemed so very much cut up about his glove, that he should restore it to its natural size again.
This, however, Dick positively refused to do for the present, and the Dodo becoming worse instead of better, the Archæopteryx said he should go and fetch a doctor.
“Oh, do!” cried the Dodo, sitting up, and becoming interested at once. “Ilovedoctors, they give you such nice stuff to take.”
“Ough!” shuddered Marjorie.
“I’m sure they do, then,” said the Dodo; “lovely little pills with sugar on them, and powders in jam—oh, lovely! Don’t you think powders in jam delicious?” he asked, appealing to Dick.
“No; I certainly don’t,” was the reply, as the Archæopteryx, followed by a funny-looking little old man, came running back.
The Prehistoric Doctor—for so the childrenfound he was called—was dressed in a coarse coat made of bear’s skin, under which was a spotless shirt-front and collar; an old-fashioned pair of horn-rimmed spectacles completed his costume, while some dangerous-looking surgical instruments projected from a rough pocket tacked on to the side of his coat.
"'Tut, tut, this is serious,' said the Doctor.""'Tut, tut, this is serious,' said the Doctor."
“Ah!—h’m! andhoware we feeling this morning?” he said, kindly, going up to the Dodo.
The bird turned up his eyes pathetically and gave a sigh.
“Like a dying duck in a thunderstorm,” whispered Dick, and Marjorie had to hold her handkerchief to her mouth to keep from giggling out loud.
“Ah! How is the pulse?” continued the Doctor, in a soothing voice.
The Dodo gravely extended the pinion with the glove on it.
This seemed to puzzle the Doctor a little at first, but after looking at it for a moment through his spectacles, he fished an enormous silver watch out of another pocket in his skin coat, and carefully pinching the glove between his finger and thumb, regarding his timepiece anxiously.
This operation over, he shook his head gravely, and demanded to see the Dodo’s tongue.
“Oh! I couldn’t!” simpered the bird; “I really couldn’t; it’s so rude to put out one’s tongue, you know.”
A little persuasion, however, on the part of the Doctor prevailed upon him to open his enormous beak, and the examination was proceeded with.
"They hurried to the station.""They hurried to the station."
“Tut! tut! this is serious!” exclaimed the Doctor, regarding the Dodo’s tongue critically. “We must have a change of air immediately, and thorough rest. I will go and make you up a little prescription, and I would advise you to start at once. The air at—er—the CrystalPalace would suit you admirably. There is an excursion starting to-day. I should certainly go by that if I were you.”
“The Crystal Palace! Why, that’s near London!” cried Marjorie, excitedly. “Can’t we go by the excursion, too?”
“Of course you can,” chimed in the Palæotherium; “we’ll all go, and make up a nice little family party.”
So, without further ado—the Doctor having made up his prescription, consisting of a large bottle of “bull’s eyes,” one to be taken every quarter of an hour—they hurried to the station, at the door of which a most energetic porter was ringing a huge bell.
CHAPTER XVII.WAITING FOR THE TRAIN.
They found, on reaching the station, which was a very primitive affair with a thatched roof, that the booking-office was closed.
“Clerk be goned away for ”ees ”oliday,” explained the Porter, with a grin.
“Then whatever are we going to do about tickets?” asked Marjorie, anxiously, for the trip to the Crystal Palace seemed to afford such an excellent opportunity of getting home again that she was anxious not to miss it.
“He may be back before the train comes in,” said the Archæopteryx; “there doesn’t seem to be one in sight, and we often have to wait weeks and weeks for a train here, you know.”
“But what was he ringing the bell for, then?” inquired Dick, “if the train isn’t coming in.”
“I seed some smoke awhile ago, over yonder,” said the Porter, “and I thought maybe ”tmight be th” train, but like as not it isn’t.”
“Then we have had this long run for nothing,” complained the Dodo, breathlessly.
“Calm yourself, my dear Sir,” said the Doctor, patting him on the back; “excitement of any kind is very bad for you. We will wait here quietly till the train does come.”
“But isn’t there a time-table?” asked Dick, “so that we can tell when to expect it.”
“No, Sir,” said the Porter. “There was a time-table when I fust come here, nine years ago; but it got lost somehow, and we’ve never had another.”
By this time the platform was crowded with a number of other animals, who had apparently come to join the excursion.
“We had better get our tents before they are all gone,” whispered the Palæotherium.
“Ah, yes, of course,” said the Eterædarium. “Er—Porter, just bring us some tents, will you?”
“Tents?” exclaimed the children.
“Yes; if we are to stay here till the train starts we shall find it very awkward at night without tents, you know.”
“Oh, yes, tents by all means,” said the Archæopteryx. “I think five will be sufficient,” he added.
"The Dodo contented himself with fussing about and giving directions.""The Dodo contented himself with fussing about and giving directions."
The Porter grumbled a little, and then brought forth from somewhere a number of poles and some canvas tents, and these the creatures began solemnly to erect on various parts of the platform.
The Dodo excused himself from assisting, on the plea that he might soil his gloves, and contentedhimself with fussing about and giving directions in a loud voice.
While the tents were being erected, the children amused themselves by exploring their surroundings.
“Oh! there’s a refreshment room!” exclaimed Marjorie, pointing to a hole in the wall, on the ledge of which were displayed a few doubtful-looking articles.
“Shall I join you in a little light repast?” said an insinuating voice behind them, and turning around, they beheld the Dodo smoothing his glove and smirking ingratiatingly.
Dick felt in his pocket, and was delighted to find that he had a two-shilling-piece tucked away in a corner.
“Yes, we might as well have something,” he said, generously. “I wonder who attends to this department? There doesn’t seem to be anybody about.”
He knocked at the wall with his two-shilling-piece, and, suddenly, an elderly lady, with a very sharp face and a shrill voice, popped her head up and exclaimed, “Well! what doyouwant?”
Dick was startled by her sudden appearance, and stammered a little.
“Er—er—a——” he began.
“A glass bun and a bath of milk, please,” prompted the Dodo.
“No; he means a bath bun and a glass of milk,” laughed Marjorie, smiling up at the lady’s face.
There was no smile in response, however, and she replied, crossly, “Why doesn’t he say what he means, then? We’ve no bath buns, and no milk,” she went on. “There’s a currant bun, a box of chocolates, and a bottle of gingerbeer. You can take them or leave them, whichever you like.”
“Er—how much is the bun, please?” inquired Dick.
“Shilling,” snapped the waitress.
“Dear me! that’s rather expensive, isn’t it?” said Dick, regarding his two-shilling-piece ruefully. “And I’m afraid it looks a little stale, too.”
“Well, I never!” said the waitress, tossing her head scornfully, and shaking back her littlecorkscrew curls. “What next, I wonder? That bun has been here on and off for seventeen years, and I never had a complaint about it before. Stale, indeed!” And she sniffed scornfully.
“Perhaps we had better try the chocolate,” suggested Marjorie. “Can you tell us, please, how many pieces there are in the box?” she asked.
“No, I can’t!” was the ungracious reply. “It’s half-a-crown,” she added.
That, of course, put it out of the question, and as the gingerbeer bottle turned out to be empty, the contents having evaporated some years since, the children were obliged to turn, somewhat disconsolately, away from the “refreshment room,” and as they left they heard the waitress complaining, crossly—
“I can’t think what people want to come bothering for refreshments for, when I am busy reading; some folks havenoconsideration for others.” And she disappeared as mysteriously as she had arrived.
A little further down the platform, to their great delight, they discovered an automaticmachine, but were greatly disappointed to find that it only professed to supply “furniture polish,” “tin tacks,” and “postage stamps.”
“And as we have no post-office here at all,” said the Archæopteryx, who had by this time joined them, “the stamps are of no use whatever. Fortunately,” he went on, “the Palæotherium brought some banana sandwiches in his carpet bag; so, if you come back with me to his tent, we can have a little supper before we go to bed.”
The children very gratefully accepted the invitation, and were delighted on entering the tent to find that the Eterædarium and the Palæotherium had arranged quite a dainty little repast with the sandwiches, some fresh fruit, and cocoanut milk, which was served in the shell.
While the feast was progressing it began to grow quite dark, and the Dodo suggested asking the Porter for a light.
“There’s only one candle,” grumbled that individual, “and I be obligated to use that for the signal.”
So there was nothing to be done but to hurryover the supper as soon as possible, and go to rest.
Marjorie and Fidge shared a little tent next to the Dodo and Dick, and the children made themselves as comfortable as they could, under the circumstances, with some cushions and rugs, with which the Porter had provided them; and, after chatting for a little while about their strange adventures, dropped off to sleep.
They were awakened after an hour or two by the clanging of a huge bell, and, hastily putting their heads out of the tent, beheld the Porter rushing up and down the platform, ringing his bell violently. The candle was flaring away at the top of the signal pole, and the children jumped to the conclusion that the train had been signaled.
“What’s up!” called out Dick, as the Porter approached.
There was no answer, and the great bell was plied more vigorously than ever.
“Oh!doleave off!” screamed the Dodo. “What’s the bell for?”
“To keep you awake,” shouted the Porter.“I shall keep on ringing this bell all night to prevent you from going to sleep, in case the train comes in and you don’t hear it.”
“But the noise will drive us mad,” expostulated the Dodo.
"'Oh! Do leave off!' screamed the Dodo.""'Oh! Do leave off!' screamed the Dodo."
“H’m! won’t have far to drive you, then,” said the Porter, rudely. “Howsomedever, I’m going to do my duty, whatever happens, and this ”ere bell I’m going to ring if I drops.”
Remonstrance was vain, and as it was hopeless to try and sleep through all the noise the children got up again, and had hardly done so, when, looking towards the end of the platform they beheld a red and a green light appearing around the curve, and a moment later the train dashed into the station.
“Crystal Palace train! Crystal Palace train! Take your seats, there!” shouted the Guard; and, regardless of the fact that they had no tickets, the children and their friends scrambled in.
CHAPTER XVIII.A NIGHT IN THE TRAIN.
“What a funny puff-puff!” exclaimed Fidge, when, all of the creatures on the platform having entered the train, it slowly steamed out of the station, while the Porter took down the candlestick signal and carefully extinguished the light, remarking aloud, as he did so, “Well, thank goodness,they’regone!”
“I think,” said Dick, looking about him curiously, “that it must be what is called a sleeping car.”
“Yes, of course it is,” agreed the Prehistoric Doctor, who had joined the party. “See, here are the sleeping bunks. This is mine,” he added, taking possession of one of the lower berths by throwing his carpet bag on to it.
“I’ll have the one above it,” announced the Palæotherium, climbing up to the upper berth, and clumsily treading on the Prehistoric Doctor’s hand as he did so.
“I shall have to be near my Doctor, of course, as I am an invalid,” remarked the Dodo, plaintively, “so shall take the lower berth next to him.”
And thus each of the creatures took up their respective positions, and the children thought it best to follow their example. Dick and Fidge climbed up to one of the upper berths, and Marjorie made herself comfortable in the one below them.
“It’s much better than being in those horrid little tents on the draughty station,” she called out; “and we are sure to get tosomewherein this train, aren’t we, Dick?”
“Yes, rather,” was her elder brother’s reply. “I say, Sis, what are we going to do when they ask us for our tickets at the Crystal Palace? I haven’t got any money except this two shillings, have you?”
“Not a penny,” admitted Marjorie. “However,” she added, yawning sleepily, “I suppose it will all come right; none of the other creatures took tickets, you know. The great thing is to get back to England.”
“There’s a window up here, and I have just looked out,” said Dick, “it’s all pitch dark.”
“Yes,” murmured Marjorie; “Underground Railway to Crystal Palace; that’s how we went last time, you know—part of the way, at any rate—let’s go to sleep now. Good-night, Dick.”
“Good-night.”
“Nighty, nighty!” shouted Fidge.
“Good-night, Fidge, dear,” was his sister’s reply, in a very tired voice.
A moment afterwards the train gave a lurch, and there was a crash and a loud cry from one of the lower berths.
Dick hastily scrambled down to ascertain what was the matter, and found that the Dodo had tumbled out of bed.
“Bless my gloves and beak!” ejaculated the bird, as he picked himself up; “it’s enough to frighten one out of their lives, isn’t it?”
“Have you hurt yourself much?” inquired Dick, kindly.
“No; I don’t think so,” said the Dodo, carefully feeling himself all over to see if any bones were broken.
“How do you like my nightcap?” he inquired, suddenly and inconsequently. “Does it suit me?”
“Oh, it’s all right, I suppose,” said Dick, laughing in spite of himself at the bird’s vanity. “Where did you get it?”
“Found it under my pillow,” announced the bird, triumphantly. “That’s why I tumbled out of bed, so that some one at any rate, should come and see me in it. Nobody else seems to be coming, though,” he added, looking anxiously up and down, “so I shall go to bed again; but I shall leave my curtains wide open, so that if anybody passes by during the night, or in the morning, they will see how beautiful I am when I am asleep.”
At that moment there was an awful noise like a deep groan, which grew and grew in volume till it sounded like distant thunder, and then faded away and ended up with a comical little whistle. Again and again it was repeated.
“Oh, Dick! what is it?” called Marjorie, putting her head outside the curtains.
“I can’t think,” said Dick, in a puzzled voice.
“Where have I heard that sound before?” exclaimed the Dodo, putting one finger of the glove to his forehead, and striking a thoughtful attitude.
“Ah! I have it,” he cried. “Of course, it’s a prehistoric snore—the Doctor is asleep.”
And, sure enough, that was what the noise was. By listening outside the curtains of his berth they discovered, without a doubt, that it proceeded from there.
“What a frightful row,” cried Dick, indignantly. “We can’t go to sleep with all that noise going on. Let’s wake him up.”
“Oh, no!” cried the Dodo, “not for worlds. He is sure to be very sensitive on the point, and would doubtless resent it very much.”
“He ought to be made to sleep in another part of the train, or in a carriage by himself,” grumbled Dick, scrambling back to his berth just in time to meet Fidge, who was trying to get down at the risk of breaking his neck.
“Oh! Dick!” he cried, pointing to the further corner of the berth, “Look! Look! A snake!”
“What?” cried Marjorie, from below, with a little scream.
“A snake!” repeated Fidge. “Look, look, Dick!” he cried, pointing.
Dick looked in the direction indicated, and was horrified to see what he took to be a huge snake, slowly crawling over the partition which divided their berth from the next.
“Give me something to hit it with, quick!” he shouted, excitedly. And Marjorie, with another little frightened scream, handed him the Prehistoric Doctor’s umbrella, which was lying on the floor outside her berth.
Dick seized the umbrella, and, grasping it with both hands, aimed a mighty blow at what he took to be the snake.
An agonized scream from the next berth, and a hasty withdrawal of thesnake, was followed by the appearance of the Palæotherium’s head over the top of the partition.
“Who did that?” he demanded, with tears in his eyes.
“It was a snake!” cried Dick, excitedly, “and I was trying to kill it.”
“Snake, indeed!” said the Palæotherium, wrathfully. “It was my tail.”
“Oh! I’msosorry,” exclaimed Dick, “I reallythoughtit was a snake, you know. I beg your pardon. Idohope I haven’t hurt you very much.”
“H’m! Well, I can’t say that it was very pleasant,” said the Palæotherium, “but if you are really sorry I’ll forgive you—only you mustn’t let it happen again.”
“Shouldn’t have a tail like a snake,” said Fidge, half crying, “and shouldn’t let it come over in our bed.”
The Palæotherium muttered something that neither of the children could understand, and retired, and, except for the Prehistoric Doctor’s snoring, all was quiet again.
This time the children really did get to sleep, and when they awoke the carriage was quite light, and Dick, looking out through the little window at the side of his berth, could see that they were traveling through some very delightful country.
“Wake up! Wake up, Marjorie,” he cried, “it’s morning.”
“I’m velly hungry,” announced Fidge, sitting up and rubbing his eyes sleepily.
“Yes, so am I,” admitted Dick; “we must see what we can do to get some food.”
“The doors at the ends of the carriage are open,” cried Marjorie, from below. “I believe it’s a corridor train, like that we went to Scarborough in last year,” she added. “Perhaps there’s a dining-car at the end of this one.”
Dick and Fidge scrambled down, and, accompanied by Marjorie, determined to explore.
None of the other creatures were apparently awake, and most of the curtains were drawn.
The Dodo, however, true to his word, had left his open, and there he lay in an affected attitude, with his gloves carefully displayed outside the bed-clothes, and his nightcap arranged at the most becoming angle.
Dick could see that he was not really asleep, for one eye was partially open, and as the children passed he murmured, quite loudly enough for Dick to hear—“Ain’t Ibeautiful?”
The Greedy Eterædarium.The Greedy Eterædarium.
Dick laughed, and passed on to where he could see some wash-basins and a water tap, and there the children had a most refreshing wash; and then, to their great delight, found that the next carriage was labeled—“Breakfast Car”;and as it was the easiest matter in the world to step from one carriage to the other, they were soon at the door.
As soon as they opened it they beheld a curious sight.
There were a number of little tables in the carriage, on each of which were basins of steaming hot bread-and-milk.
The Eterædarium stood at one of the tables, and, with a spoon in each hand, was greedily devouring the bread-and-milk as quickly as he possibly could.
“Come on!” he shouted, with his mouth full. “Just in time. There are one or two basins left; but make haste, before the others come, or you won’t get any.”
CHAPTER XIX.AT THE CRYSTAL PALACE.
The bread-and-milk was very good, and the children enjoyed it immensely.
They would have taken a second basinful had the Eterædarium been at all pressing in his invitation for them to do so; but instead of asking them in the usual way, “Will you have any more?” he said, in a very anxious tone of voice, “You won’t have any more, will you?” which was, of course, a very different thing; and so they each meekly said, “No, thank you,” and watched the Eterædarium finish up the remaining basins.
“There now, I feel that I’ve done my duty,” he said, with a sigh of satisfaction, as he wiped his lips with a serviette, after scraping out the very last spoonful.
“You see,” he said, with a sort of half attempt at an apology, “I was afraid the poor, dear Dodo,in his delicate state of health, might come in to breakfast and eat more than was good for him; so, by eating the lot myself, I have prevented him from doing that. He ought to be very grateful to me, I’m sure.”
“But what about the others?” asked Dick.
“Oh, great, strong, healthy animals like them, it will do them good to go without for once in a way. I think, though, that in order to prevent them from feeling any disappointment it will be better to throw the basins out of the window, the sight of them would probably be rather tantalizing.” And the Eterædarium began hurriedly to throw all the breakfast things out of the window—spoons, basins, tablecloths, and serviettes, all disappeared, and only the three basins which the children had been using remained.
They, doubtless, would have followed the others had not the Dodo, leaning heavily on the Prehistoric Doctor’s arm, entered the breakfast car just at that moment.
“Ah! bread-and-milk—capital!” exclaimed the Doctor, rubbing his hands, and looking atthe children’s basins. “I think our patient could manage a small basinful, eh?”
The Dodo, with a great affectation of weakness, feebly nodded his head.
“I think Icouldmanage a small basinful, Doctor—er—er—nottoosmall, you know. Averysmall quantity never agrees with me.”
“No, no; of course not,” said the Doctor, soothingly. “I will see that it is not too small; and perhaps, just to encourage you, I will have a basinful myself.”
“It’s all gone!” said the Eterædarium, suddenly and emphatically.
“Gone!” screamed the Dodo, in a loud voice, quite forgetting his supposed weakness. “Do you mean to say there isnoneleft?”
The Eterædarium shook his head.
“But where’s it all gone to?” asked the Doctor.
The Eterædarium solemnly pointed to the children.
“Pigs!” declared the Dodo, wrathfully.
“Here, who are you calling pigs?” demanded Dick, getting up angrily.
“Well, I must say that it was exceedingly greedy of you to devour all of the breakfast,” said the Doctor, reprovingly.
“But we didn’t,” said Dick. “It was the Eterædarium; he had ever so many basinsful. We only had one each, didn’t we, Marjorie?”
“No,” said Marjorie; “and mine was a very small one.”
“And mine was the littlest of all,” said Fidge, flourishing his spoon, “like the littlest bear’s, you know, in the story of the Three Bears.”
“Well, where are the other basins, then, if you say the Eterædarium had such a lot?” demanded the Dodo.
“He threw them out of the window,” declared the children.
“Oh! Oh! Well, Inever—whatever will they say next?” cried the Eterædarium, throwing up his hands and turning his eyes up to the ceiling.
“I must say it doesn’t seem a very probable story,” said the Doctor, looking out of the window; “and as I don’t see any of the basins lying about I am afraid I cannot believe your statement.”
“But that was some time ago,” argued Dick, “and as we are traveling very rapidly they must be some miles down the line by this time.”
The arrival at the Crystal Palace.The arrival at the Crystal Palace.
“Rubbish!” exclaimed the Dodo, “you are only making matters worse by your lame excuses. I always had my suspicions that youwere a greedy lot, like all the rest of the human creatures.”
“Ahem!” coughed the Doctor, looking pained.
“Oh, you’re prehistoric—that doesn’t count,” said the Dodo, and the Doctor brightened up again.
Fortunately, at this moment, something occurred to prevent the argument from continuing, or goodness knows where it might have led to, for the children were naturally indignant at being so greatly misjudged. Dick was particularly wroth. Their attention was diverted, however, by the train dashing into a station, and coming to a somewhat abrupt stop, causing the passengers to pitch forward, while a porter called in a loud voice, “Crystal Palace! Crystal Palace! All change here!”
“Oh! here we are, at last,” cried the children, hurrying on to the platform where the animals were all turning out.
The porter had given one horrified glance at the strange creatures, and then, with a howl of fear, had fled up the steps at the end of theplatform. The children could see that he was explaining something or other to the ticket collector, for that worthy came to the barrier and peeped over.
“Oh—o—o—a—aah!” the children heard him cry, and then he fled, as his companion had done, leaving the barrier free.
“Come,” laughed Dick, “that simplifies matters considerably, for we shall not have to bother about our tickets now.” And the children hurried up the stairs, while the Dodo remained behind to adjust his gloves, complaining loudly that notice ought to have been given that they were nearing the station, so that he might have made himself presentable before alighting.
On turning back, while on the steps, the children could see that, besides their own party, the train had contained a number of other strange animals, some of whom, the Archæopteryx whispered, impressively, were “antediluvians.”
"'Sh'sh! A Missionary,' whispered the Dodo, excitedly.""'Sh'sh! A Missionary,' whispered the Dodo, excitedly."
The whole party having alighted, with a great deal of noise and confusion, they proceeded at once to the Palace. Everywhere their appearance was the signal for a wild stampede of other visitors, and by the time they had reached the great hall no one at all was in sight, except one old gentleman in glasses, who was consulting a guide book while he stood before a group of wooden Hottentots.
“Sh!” whispered the Dodo, “a Missionary! I have seen them before, when abroad. In some places they are greatly admired by the natives, some of whom have described them enthusiastically as being simplydelicious! Let us be friendly to him; he is, no doubt, a very excellent man.
“My dear Sir,” he continued, waddling up to the Missionary, “delighted to see you looking so well.”
The Missionary, who was very short-sighted, beamed kindly, and grasped the Dodo’s glove, while he peered up into his face through his glasses. On catching sight of his beak, however, he gave a gasp of astonishment, and stammered—
“I’m afraid, Sir, you’ve made a mistake. I—er—I—er—don’t remember your face.”
“Oh, well, it is some time since we met, certainly; but perhaps you know my friend?” said the Dodo, introducing the Eterædarium, who came forward with an engaging grin.
The poor Missionary gave him a hasty glance through his glasses, and then, nervously clutchinghis guide book and umbrella, muttered something about “an important engagement,” and fled in the direction of the big clock.
“Strange how nervous everybody is in my presence,” murmured the Dodo, conceitedly. “It’s doubtless my beauty and brilliant wit which alarms them; but, come on, let’s go out to the lake, and I’ll take you for a row.”
"The Dodo was a muff at rowing.""The Dodo was a muff at rowing."
So, having met with the Palæotherium, they all three got into a boat.
The Dodo was a muff at rowing, though, and kept “catching a crab,” which disaster he accounted for by declaring that the fishes would keep holding on to his oar when he dipped itinto the water; but the Palæotherium, who was in the bow of the boat, and consequently got all of the splashes and knocks with the oar, declared that this was all nonsense, and I am inclined to agree with him.
CHAPTER XX.A DIFFICULTY WITH THE ROUNDABOUT.
While the Dodo and his friends were enjoying themselves on the lake, the children and the others were wandering about the grounds, and continually discovering fresh attractions. What puzzled them not a little, however, was the fact that there seemed to be no other visitors about, and even the attendants had disappeared in a most mysterious manner.
At the roundabout the steam was up, but there was apparently nobody in charge.
“What a pity,” said Dick, “I should have liked very much to have gone around on the horses, wouldn’t you, Marjorie?”
“I should,” chimed in Fidge.
“Yes, it would have been rather jolly,” said Marjorie. “Don’t you think perhaps the Prehistoric Doctor could manage to set it going? Let’s ask him.”
“Well, my dear,” said the Doctor, when consultedon the subject, “I don’t know much about machinery, but I’ll try, if you like.”
“What’s that?” inquired the Dodo, just then coming up, he having failed to get on with the rowing to his own or anybody else’s satisfaction.
“Why, we are just discussing the question of setting this roundabout going,” explained the Doctor.
“Pooh! the easiest thing in the world,” said the Dodo. “You just get on, and I’ll soon start you off.”
“All right,” cried the Doctor, getting astride one of the horses.
“Hold on!” cried the Palæotherium; “let us get on, too.”
And he and several of the others clambered up to their places.
“I think,” whispered Marjorie, nervously, “that we had better wait and see how they get on, before trying ourselves.”
“That’s just like a girl,” cried Dick—“afraid of everything.”
“I’m not,” replied Marjorie, indignantly; “I’mquite ready to go on, if you want to—only I thought——”
“All aboard!” interrupted the Dodo, pulling the lever.
“Stop! Stop!” shouted Dick; “we want to get on.”
“Too late!” cried the Dodo. “You shall go on the next journey.” And with a shriek from the steam-whistle the horses began to go around.
“There you are, you see,” said the Dodo, complacently regarding the result of his efforts. “I said it was an easy matter to set them going.”
Faster and faster grew the pace, till the Doctor, who at first seemed to be enjoying his ride immensely, suddenly threw his arms around his horse’s neck, and gasped out, breathlessly—
“Oh! Oh! Stop them! They’re running away?”
“Pooh! Nonsense!” cried the Dodo; “don’t be a baby.”
“Stop them! Stop them! Help! Help!” screamed the other poor creatures, as the horses whirled around faster and faster.
The Dodo went to the engine and tried to push the lever back again, but, to his great consternation, he found that he could not do so, and the only result of pulling another lever which he discovered was to make the machinery work more rapidly than before.
“Gracious!” cried Marjorie, wringing her hands, “whateveristo be done?” While even Dick turned a little pale, for the poor creatures were by this time whirling around so quickly that one could scarcely be distinguished from the other.
Every now and then the poor Palæotherium might be heard screaming above the others, who were all calling out in their fright and alarm.
The Dodo left the engine, and came and stared at them.
“H’m!” he ejaculated. “Idon’t know what’s to be done. If they don’t stop soon, I suppose we shall have to shoot them. It’s the only thing I can think of.”
“Shoot them!” exclaimed Dick, in a horrified voice.
“Well, what else is to be done, I should like to know? We can’t leave them here whirling around like that forever.”
“I should think,” suggested Dick, after vainly trying to push the lever back into its place himself, “that if we raked all the fuel out of the engine, it would probably stop of its own accord.”
“Ah! happy thought,” said the Dodo, and with all possible speed they set to work to carry out Dick’s suggestion.
They were delighted to find that after a time their project was successful, and the machinery gradually ceased to work, and at last stopped altogether.
The poor creatures looked more dead than alive as with pale faces they clung limply to the upright supports attached to each of the horses.
The Doctor, weak though he was, was furious.
“Wretched, ungrateful creature!” he cried, getting painfully off his horse and going up to the Dodo. “This is how you reward me for having saved your life.”
“I couldn’t help it,” whimpered the Dodo. “I couldn’t, really.”