The Magic Nuts
CHAPTER VI
GNOMELAND
He appeared, sniffed, and sneered, In a fairy pet.--_Child Nature._
For a moment or two Hildegarde stared down at the little man withoutspeaking. Then her face lighted up again, and she replied--
'I am very sorry, sir, that I can't tell you, for I have no watch and Idon't know.'
Something like a smile broke over the gnome's countenance.
'All right,' he said, 'you don't know, and you don't pretend you do. And_I_ don't want to know. Here in our country,' and he waved his hand in alordly fashion, 'we have nothing to do with clocks and watches, and timeand hours, and all such fiddle-faddle. We leave that to the poor folkwho can't settle things for themselves, but have to be ruled by the sunand the moon, and the stars too, for all I know. Some people up there,where you come from, fancy we make the cuckoo-clocks down here, butthat's all nonsense--we wouldn't waste our time over such rubbish.'
'I thought you said----' began Leonore impulsively. She was getting overher alarm a little by now--'I thought you said you didn't trouble abouttime,' she was _going_ to have added, but a touch from Hildegarde came,luckily, quickly enough to stop her, and to remind her of the fairy'swarning.
The gnome did not seem to have heard her; he was unfastening the gates.When he had got them ajar, he stood right in the middle, his head cockedon one side and his feet well apart, and surveyed the children coolly.
'And who sent you?' he said at last.
'The fairy of the spinning-wheel,' Hildegarde replied.
'Humph--I thought as much,' he remarked. 'And what for, if you please?'
'To pay you and your wonderful country a visit, if you will kindly allowus to do so,' Hildegarde answered.
'That means that I am to----' he cleared his throat and hesitated for amoment, then went on again, 'to tire myself out doing showman; Isuppose?' he said rather grumpily.
'I hope not to tire yourself out, sir,' Hildegarde returned in herpolitest tone. 'We shall give you as little trouble as possible, but weare of course very anxious to see all you will kindly show us.'
'All right,' the gnome replied. 'Enter, children of the upper world, andbe welcome,' and he flung open the gates with a flourish, whileHildegarde and Leonore passed through.
It had seemed to them as they stood waiting that within the entrance wasmuch the same as outside, but no sooner had they stepped across theboundary, the doors clanging behind them as they did so, than they foundeverything quite different. They were no longer in a rather narrowpassage, but on a broad road, bordered on each side by magnificent rockswhich stretched up so high that they could not see their summit or theroof. The ground was covered with very fine gravel or white silverysand, firm and pleasant to walk upon, and which glistened like pale pinktinsel in the light. For everywhere was flooded with the soft red orrosy brilliance they had noticed before they entered, though whence itcame they could not see.
'Why is the light so red?' asked Leonore, gaining some courage again,though since her last attempt she had not dared to speak. 'We noticed itoutside, and we thought perhaps it came from big fires--furnaces youknow, or forges--like what blacksmiths have.'
The gnome was walking a little in front--at this he turned round.
'And why should we have "big fires," or furnaces, or whatever you callthe clumsy things?' he said, fixing his small bright eyes, which gleamedredly themselves, on Leonore.
'Oh,' said Leonore, dreadfully afraid that he thought her rude,'because--because--everybody says you make things like--like blacksmithsdo--with iron and metal stuffs like that.'
'Indeed,' said the gnome, 'and what then? Do you think we denizens ofthe under-world are as stupid as your clumsy workmen up above? Wait abit; you shall soon see for yourselves.'
'You mustn't think Leonore meant to be rude,' said Hildegarde. 'You seewe are only children, and we don't understand about wonderfully cleverthings.'
'Humph,' said the gnome, but he seemed pleased.
They had walked some little way by now, and once or twice their guidehad stopped at what looked like a narrow passage between the rocks, asif uncertain if he should turn down it or not. Just then they came toanother of these passages, and he looked back at the children.
'Follow me,' he said, 'and you shall see how we work. I am going to showyou the manufacturing of the lucky pennies and horse-shoes.'
'What are lucky pennies?' whispered Leonore to Hildegarde. 'I think Ihave heard of them, but I'm not sure.'
'Never mind,' Hildegarde replied in the same tone. 'The gnomes won't bevexed with us for not knowing things if we are polite and admire theircleverness, and I am sure they _are_ very clever.'
Then they followed their guide in silence, which soon, however, came tobe broken by the sound of tapping, light sharp tapping, and in anothermoment or two, there was added to this a whizzing sound, and now andthen short clear whistles. But the little girls asked no questions andmade no remarks, till suddenly, the passage along which they werewalking coming to an end, they found themselves in a very largerock-chamber--the sides of which towered up so high that their topscould not be seen, though everywhere the same clear rose-coloured lightpenetrated.
The air was fresh and pleasant, though not cold. The gnomes evidentlypossessed the secret of warming their habitation as well as lighting it!And now were explained the several sounds the children had heard as theyapproached the 'manufactory' as their guide had called it.
MANUFACTURING LUCKY PENNIES.]
For the great room--one would have called it a cave perhaps, except thatno cave ever was so lofty--was filled with a crowd of busy workers.Gnomes of course, some smaller, some a little bigger than the one whowas guiding the children, but all as like each other as a lot of Chineseseem to us--and all apparently of the same age. A few were standing, butmost were sitting, and in front of each was a small rock-table, on whichlay tools of glistening silver. There were tiny hammers which explainedthe tapping, and little wheels revolving so rapidly that when in motionthey could not be seen. And every now and then a gnome lifted a kind oftube or pipe to his mouth, through which he blew with a whistling sound,on to the piece of metal he was working at. None of them spoke; theyall seemed absorbed in what they were doing.
The guide-gnome signed to the children to come close up to one littleearth-man and watch what he was doing.
He was beating a round piece of copper with his fairy-like hammer, andblowing upon it between times through his whistling tube.
'There now,' said the first gnome, speaking at last. 'Is not that betterthan your scorching furnaces? That tube is a heat-tube--every time heblows through it, it melts, or at least softens the metal, without anyfuss or trouble.'
'Really!' exclaimed Hildegarde, 'what a good plan! I wish we hadheat-tubes to warm our fingers with in winter.'
'Better not wish for anything of the kind,' replied their guide. 'Youup-above people are a long way from such things yet. You'd only burnyour fingers off.'
'Thank you,' said Hildegarde respectfully. 'I daresay we should. Butwill you kindly explain about lucky pennies. Is that one he is making?'
'Yes,' replied the gnome. 'You good, near-sighted people,' and he jerkedhis thumb upwards, 'don't see the difference. You don't know when youget hold of a lucky penny or not--but a great many are sent up to yourworld, all the same, and that is why some folk seem to succeed with youand some not. _Partly_ the reason, that is to say, for the holders oflucky pennies must be honest, otherwise our coins do them more harm thangood.'
'How wonderful!' said Leonore. 'But if you make such a great many, wheredo you send the others to? _All_ our pennies are not lucky pennies.'
The gnome screwed up his eyes and looked at her.
'That's all I am at liberty to tell you,' he said. 'There are otherworlds besides yours that _we_ know about though you don't,' and Leonoresaw that she was not to question him further.
'Perhaps,' she thought to herself, 'there are people in the moon afterall, and some of the lucky pe
nnies go there.'
The gnome seemed pleased by her respectful manner. He said something ina low voice to the little man they had been watching, who thereuponhanded him two bright copper pieces.
'Here,' he said, 'here is a souvenir for each of you--a real luckypenny. Never part with them except in direst need, which with them inyour possession is not likely ever to befall you.'
The children were very pleased, and thanked him most politely.
'And now,' he said, 'as we pass on, you may glance at the other side ofthe manufactory, where we are employed on horse-shoes,' and he crossedbetween the rows of little men, each at his table, to where several wereseated together at a larger one.
Hildegarde gave an exclamation of disappointment.
'What are they doing?' she cried. 'Mending _old_ horse-shoes? What uglythings!'
'You foolish child,' said the gnome. 'How little you appreciate ourskill! Of course the work they are doing is much more difficult thanmaking pretty things. They are copying old horse-shoes after the clumsyearth fashion. Who would use a _new_ one for luck, I should like toknow, and how little do you people up there think when you pick up anold cast-off horse-shoe, as you think, what it really is, and where ithas come from.'
Hildegarde felt rather snubbed. It was the first time she had forgottenthe fairy's warning.
'How _very_ clever!' she said.
'Yes, indeed,' Leonore agreed. 'I shall always pick up horse-shoes whenI see them now. And if you please, Mr. Gnome----'
But her sentence was never finished, for just as she had got so far,their guide suddenly clapped his hands. There came a rush of cold air inthe children's faces, so sharply, that without knowing it, they bothshut their eyes. And when they opened them again, the big chamber andthe busy workers had disappeared--they found themselves--still in theunder-world, but in quite a different part of it.
Here the light was no longer red, but a pale pretty green--a green whichdid not make things or people look pale and sickly, but only cast a softradiance, such as one sees in the woods in the early spring. And to addto this impression there was a faint sound of running or trickling waternear at hand.
Hildegarde and Leonore rubbed their eyes and looked at each other; theyalmost felt as if they were dreaming.
'Where have we got to?' said Leonore; but as she looked about her alittle she saw that they were still surrounded by the high rocks whichseemed to be the walls and boundaries of the under-world.
'And how did we get here?' added Hildegarde laughing. 'It felt as if wewere _blown_ here.'
'And so you were,' said a voice beside them, and turning, they caughtsight of their old friend the gnome again. 'There was no object intiring you with walking all through our domains--what brought you wasone of our little inventions--the simplest in the world--for those whounderstand such things,' he added with condescension.
'And if you please where are we, and what are you going to show us now?'they inquired.
'You are at the entrance to our gardens, where I am going to show youour flower designs. You have doubtless never been told how many of yourupper-world plants and flowers owe their existence to _us_.'
'Really!' exclaimed Hildegarde; and then, as a sudden thought struckher, 'oh, I _wonder_,' she cried, 'if those very, very queer flowersthat we see in hot-houses and sometimes in gardens too--what do theycall them--or--or--? I wonder if _they_ are invented by your gardeners.'
The gnome smiled condescendingly.
'You mean orchids,' he said. 'Ah well, you will soon see foryourselves. And now,' he went on, 'I must bid you farewell, for thepresent at any rate, though who knows but that some day you may againvisit the under-world. You will meet with no difficulties now. Onleaving the gardens you may, if you like, pass through toy-land, andthere you will see some of _our_ children. That, I think, must be thelimit of your sight-seeing--any more would be too much for you to takein. I have the honour to bid you adieu.'
He took off his cap with a flourish, bowing like a master of ceremonies.
'Goodbye, sir, and thank you very much,' said the little girls, but asthey said the words, lo and behold the gnome had disappeared!
'That must be another of their inventions,' said Hildegarde, at whichthey both laughed.
All the same, in their hearts they were not quite sure if they were glador sorry to be left to themselves, though neither liked to say so to theother.
They gazed about them. Behind were the rock passages they had grownaccustomed to, but looking longer and dimmer, perhaps in contrast withthe pale green light which had something more natural and more like theupper world about it.
And just in front of them was a curious sort of palisade--orpaling--with openings at regular intervals, though too narrow to seeanything through, unless one placed one's eyes quite close. And this itwas not worth while to do, for another glance showed them a door in thepaling, and a bell, of the same pattern as the one at the firstentrance, only in silver instead of in bronze or copper.
Hildegarde rung it. The door opened almost at once, but no one was to beseen. So they walked in.
The change of scene was complete. It was a garden, but a very queer one.Instead of lawns of grass, there were wide spaces covered with fineglittering sand of different shades of green; the paths between werebrown, and stooping closer to examine them the children found that theyconsisted of very small round pebbles, something like toffee drops, sosmooth and yet elastic that they did not hurt the feet at all. But theflower-beds were the oddest of all. They were filled with plants andflowers of the strangest shapes and colours you can--or rather'can_not_'--imagine. And when Leonore put out her hand to touch one, shestarted in surprise; they were made of fine metal.
So far, they had seen no one, but just as they were beginning to wonderwhich way they should go, and if they were to meet no more of theinhabitants of gnomeland, they saw toddling towards them the veryqueerest little figure they had ever seen out of a picture-book! It wasthat of a very _very_ old gnome--'the great-grandfather of all thegnomes surely,' whispered Hildegarde to Leonore. And it was withdifficulty they restrained their laughter.
Nor was it easier to do so when the little man came closer to them. Hewas so _very_ comical-looking. But mindful of the fairy's advice, bothchildren kept perfectly grave and greeted the newcomer with a lowcourtesy.
'Well,' was all he said, and then stood wrinkling up his face, thoughyou would have thought he could not screw it any higher than it was, andblinking up at them with his funny little eyes. Somehow they did notfeel much in awe of him after all.
'Well?' he said again, this time in a more questioning tone of voice.
'If you please,' Hildegarde replied. 'May we walk through your--garden?'She could not help hesitating a little at the last word, for somehow themore she looked at the queer place they were in, the less like a gardenit seemed. 'We won't pick any of the flowers.'
'You couldn't if you tried,' said the old gnome.
'Why not?' asked Hildegarde. 'I don't see any gardeners about.'
'They are all at their supper,' he replied.
'Supper,' replied Hildegarde. 'How early they must have it.'
'We don't know anything about late and early,' he said. 'But youngthings like them need plenty of food. Why, I don't believe the eldest ofthem is more than three hundred years old, counting the way you do up inyour country.'
It was all the children could do not to call out in astonishment; theydid not do so, however, fearing it might sound rude.
'Do you count gardening easy work, then, if you put such young gnomes todo it?' Leonore inquired.
The gnome nodded--a sort of nod that took in things in general----
'This kind of gardening--yes,' he replied. 'It's only dusting theplants, and straightening the stems if they are bent, and raking thebeds and paths. Designing's a different thing--_that_ takes experience.But you can stroll through if you like, and see for yourselves,' andwith another nod, he toddled off again.
'How old must _he_ be,' exclaimed Le
onore in an awe-struck tone, 'if hecounts hundreds of years nothing! I wonder what he meant by saying wecould not pick flowers if we tried.'
Hildegarde walked on to where a border of strange blossoms, brilliant incolour and most grotesque in shape, stood in perfect motionlessness. Shetouched two or three of them gently before she spoke. Then----
'Leonore,' cried she, 'they're _not_ flowers. They're made of metal.'
Leonore sprang forward.
'Oh that's what he meant by saying they needed "dusting" and"straightening,"' she exclaimed. 'Oh, Hildegarde, how queer everythingis down here--don't you think we had better go home?'
'Not till we have seen a little more,' said Hildegarde. 'There's nothingto be afraid of. My fairy wouldn't have let us come if there could beanything to hurt us.'
'No--not exactly that,' said Leonore, 'but it's all so _queer_.'
'Come along quickly then,' Hildegarde replied. 'I don't care for thisgarden, if there's nothing really alive and growing in it. But I daresaywe will soon get to somewhere else.'
And so, before very long, they did. They passed quantities offlower-beds and rows, so dazzling in colour and extraordinary in shapethat they felt as if they were looking through some fantastickaleidoscope.
Suddenly a rushing noise made them glance round in the direction whenceit came. It was soon explained--a crowd of gnomes were racing towardsthem; on they came, running, jumping, chattering, and shouting at thetop of their voices.
'It's the gardeners,' said Leonore. 'Oh, Hildegarde, I am ratherfrightened--they might play tricks on us. Do let us get out of theirway,' and Hildegarde, to confess the truth, was not unwilling to do so.
'Let us run down here,' she said, turning as she spoke, for they werejust then passing a side row of high plants which could hide them fromview of the approaching crowd.
No sooner said than done. They set off running at full speed, scarcelyglancing where they were going, the noise behind them lessening as theyran, till it ceased altogether; and breathless, but glad to have escapedthe bevy of gnomes, they at last stood still.
'Now,' said Hildegarde, 'let's look about and see where we've got to.'