The boxtrolls were wearing the new boxes and grinning from ear to ear.
Fish swaggered along the hall and marched up the stairs, waving for Grandfather, Arthur, and Herbert to follow. As they reached the top, Arthur ran ahead. There were three doors. The first one opened to a tiny room with a hammock and another cardboard box. But this time the cardboard box had been tipped upside down to form a table. On it was a small vase of flowers and a cake.
“Is this my room?” he called over his shoulder.
“Is this my room?”
“No, that is the storage room for Herbert.” Arthur nodded approvingly and opened the next door. There he saw a brass bed and, to his surprise, tools laid out on a workbench.
“Is this my room?” he asked.
“No!” came Willbury’s voice. “It’s Grandfather’s.”
Grandfather walked past Arthur, looked at the bench, and sat on the edge of the bed. “I do hope so,” he said contentedly.
Arthur then turned to the last door. “Then this must be my room!” He swung the door open.
The room was a little smaller than Grandfather’s and was painted completely white, including the floor. There was a cardboard-box table like in the smaller room, but there were also some shelves. On the top shelf, lying on its side, was a large bottle. And inside the bottle was a model of the Ratbridge Nautical Laundry—complete with tiny washing. Arthur ran forward to look at it and noticed a small plaque fixed to the bottle. Engraved into the plaque were the words TO ARTHUR FROM THE R.N.L. Arthur bit his lip and looked at the others wonderingly.
Inside the bottle was a model of the Ratbridge Nautical Laundry.
Herbert spoke. “Kipper had been making it since they arrived in Ratbridge, and when he heard that you had lost all your toys, he decided you would make a good home for it.”
Arthur could barely speak, he was so moved. Finally he managed to say, “I shall treasure it always.”
Then Arthur looked about the room again. A hammock hung from corner to corner. Arthur jumped in it and lay down. It felt very comfortable apart from a bump behind his neck. He reached his hand around to retrieve whatever was causing the discomfort, and to his surprise, he found he was holding his doll. Arthur was confused. He checked under his suit, but discovered that it, of course, was not there.
He found he was holding his doll.
He swung himself out of the hammock and ran to his grandfather’s room.
“My doll? It was in my room!”
“Where else did you expect to find it?”
“But how did it get there?”
“You must have dropped it when you were caught in the explosion. Tom found it and brought it to me. Marjorie fixed it this afternoon.”
Arthur held the doll up wonderingly.
“I’m afraid that it will never fly again, but you will still be able to speak to me through it.”
They smiled warmly at each other, and Grandfather said, “I think we are going to be happy here.”
“Cocoa!” came a call from downstairs.
“Yes . . . yes, we are,” said Arthur.
They smiled warmly at each other.
Children swimming in Grandfather and Herbert’s hole.
chapter 55
MEASURE FOR MEASURE
He helped the crew pump out the Underworld.
The next few weeks were very busy ones. Grandfather thought it would be a good education for Arthur to help with all the work that had to be done, so each morning Arthur set out for the Laundry. Some days, under the guidance of Marjorie, he helped the crew pump out the Underworld, and on other days he worked with the boxtrolls as they rebuilt the underground drainage system. He enjoyed those days most, as Kipper and Tom worked with the boxtrolls. Kipper still wore his battered cardboard box and now had learned to “speak” boxtroll. This made him even more useful and very happy.
Willbury, Herbert, and Grandfather spent their time preparing the compensation case against Snatcher and the Cheese Guild. When the day of the trial came, neither Snatcher nor any member of the Cheese Guild turned up to defend themselves, and the court awarded the hole in the ground to Herbert and Grandfather (as it was the only property left that Snatcher and the Cheese Guild owned).
That evening to celebrate, they all walked to view Grandfather and Herbert’s hole. As they approached it, they noticed local children swimming in the crater.
“You’re going to have to fence off your hole,” said Willbury. “What would happen if a child got into difficulty?”
Herbert and Grandfather looked at the swimmers.
“Seems a pity. I suppose we could pay one of the pirates to keep an eye on the kids, but where would we get the money to pay him?” said Grandfather. “We still don’t have enough money to pay you rent.”
“Why don’t you charge for admission?” Willbury suggested.
“What a brilliant idea!” Herbert and Grandfather agreed simultaneously. Willbury advised that it would still be a good idea to put up a fence, to stop any accidents. They trooped eagerly off to the Laundry and were greeted with friendly cries.
“Is the captain about?” Willbury asked Mildred, who had flown down to meet them.
“Yes! He’s down in his cabin. You know the way.”
When they got to the captain’s quarters, Willbury opened the door and there sat Tom with the captain’s hat on, behind a huge heap of laundry slips.
“Where’s the captain?” asked Willbury, puzzled.
Tom smiled. “I got voted captain last Friday. It’s rather nice being captain but I am looking forward to next Friday. I can’t stand the paperwork. Anyway, what can I do for you?”
Willbury explained, and it was agreed that in exchange for half the profits, the Laundry would provide lifeguard cover every day between six a.m. and eight p.m., and they would help erect a fence around the pool. It was also agreed that any spare hot water left over from the Laundry would be piped into the pool.
There sat Tom with the captain’s hat on, behind a huge heap of laundry slips.
Soon the “Ratbridge Lido” (as the pool became known) became the main attraction in the town. Children swam there by day, and in the evening when it wasn’t raining, the fashionable women paraded along its shores, while the pirates held raft races. Herbert, who was quite a swimmer in his day, taught Arthur, and once the water became warm, Grandfather could be found most days taking a dip.
All this time the question of the shrunken creatures had not been solved, but then something curious happened.
A Frenchwoman arrived in Ratbridge and found work in one of the cafes that had sprung up around the Lido. She immediately became the center of attention for the fashionable women as she was from “Pari.”
The pirates held raft races.
For days the ladies spent their time plucking up courage to ask her questions about the latest fashions till finally one Ms. Hawkins could bear it no longer and stormed into the cafe.
“May I ask you about the Pari fashions, my dear?” Ms. Hawkins asked.
“Certainement. What do you want to know?” replied the Frenchwoman.
“Is it true that hexagonal buttocks are going to be the rage this year?” said Ms. Hawkins knowingly.
“Quel horreur! What is it with zee Ratbridge ladies and their fascination for ridiculous buttocks?”
Ms. Hawkins dropped her pet boxtroll and fainted. When she recovered, she went straight to her friend who wrote the fashion articles for the Ratbridge Weekly Gazette. The following Friday a special edition of the paper came out with two main articles. The first reported in detail what Snatcher had been up to and the second reported the fact that buttocks were “OUT!”
The next morning as Arthur made his way to the Laundry, he found the towpath thronging with the ladies of the town, trying to get on the ship. After a struggle he managed to push past them till he reached the gangplank. Kipper and a number of the bigger pirates were holding back the crowd. When he saw Arthur, Kipper grabbed him and lifted him up ont
o the deck. Here Arthur found Tom and Marjorie pacing back and forth worriedly.
“Quel horreur!”
“What’s happening!” shouted Arthur over the noise of the crowd.
“We are not sure, but it has something to do with my resizing machine. They’ve heard we’ve got one here,” squeaked Marjorie.
“Quick! You’ve got to come and deal with them!” Kipper shouted from below. “We can’t hold them back for much longer!”
“What do they want?” asked Arthur.
When he saw Arthur, Kipper grabbed him and lifted him up onto the deck.
“I don’t know . . . ,” Marjorie admitted, panic in her voice.
“Let one of them up here and see what they are after?” suggested Tom. “It might be the only way to stop a riot.”
They nodded quickly and Tom called out to Kipper to let one of the ladies through. A moment later, a very cross-looking woman strode up the gangplank, and as she did, the din died down.
“How can I help you?” Marjorie squeaked.
“I’ve read that you have a machine like the one that Snatcher scoundrel had, that can shrink things.” It was Ms. Hawkins.
“I want you to shrink my buttocks!”
“Err . . . yes?” Marjorie prompted.
“I want you to shrink my buttocks! And that is not a request but an order!” said Ms. Hawkins.
Everyone else on deck looked astonished. “Umm . . . are you sure?” Marjorie finally squeaked.
“I am not leaving here till you do,” Ms. Hawkins replied. “You can use my boxtroll to put the size into.” She thrust the tiny boxtroll toward Marjorie.
“All right, if you insist,” Marjorie said, smiling slowly with realization. “But I do charge!”
“I don’t care. I want my buttocks reduced at any price,” Ms. Hawkins insisted.
“How about ten groats a pound . . . and your boxtroll?” Marjorie said.
“Done!” Ms. Hawkins snapped, and took out her purse. “Who’d want a big boxtroll anyway; it’s only the small ones that are fashionable!”
“Very well then!” Marjorie squeaked. Then, raising her eyebrows at Tom and Arthur, she asked them, “Can you rig up a screen for the ladies to go behind? It will need a hole in it big enough for the funnel on my resizer.”
They hurried off. Marjorie turned back to Ms. Hawkins. “I’ve got to go and get my machine. I’ll be right back.”
While Tom and Arthur put up the screen, one of the pirates found a pair of scissors and cut a hole in it. Ms. Hawkins huffed, placed the boxtroll on the deck, and then slipped behind the screen.
Tom finished putting up the screen with the aid of the crows.
Marjorie returned, struggling with her machine. “Tom, can you get one of the pirates to operate the resizer? I don’t think I am big enough.”
Tom found a volunteer and Marjorie ordered him to push the funnel through the hole in the screen.
“Are you ready now? Please place your right buttock against the funnel!”
“Ready!” came the cry from behind the screen.
“Extract the size!” Marjorie ordered the pirate. The pirate pulled the trigger and there was a flash and puff of smoke from behind the screen. This was followed by a delighted titter.
“Please place your second buttock against the funnel!”
“Ready!”
Where her buttocks once had been, her figure was now as straight as a board.
“Extract the size!” There was another flash and puff of smoke from behind the screen and yet another titter of delight.
Moments later Ms. Hawkins appeared from behind the screen to gasps of admiration from the women standing at the top of the gangplank. Where her buttocks once had been, her figure was now as straight as a board.
With no word of thanks, she marched past her fashion rivals, flaunting her nonexistent buttocks, went down the gangplank, and disappeared.
There was another flash and instantly the boxtroll grew about three inches.
Marjorie now instructed the pirate to point the other funnel at the tiny boxtroll.
“Do you understand what we are doing?” she asked the boxtroll. The boxtroll nodded and hopped up and down.
“All right, release the size!” Marjorie ordered. There was another flash and instantly the boxtroll grew about three inches.
“Well done!” Marjorie said to the boxtroll, who was looking very pleased.
Over the course of the day many ladies were treated, including a large number who didn’t have underlings as pets. This enabled Marjorie to get all of the creatures back to their original size. Several women turned up with buckets containing freshwater sea-cows. These proved a little more difficult to resize, as they had to be taken out of their bucket and kept wet during the process, then lifted carefully over the side and lowered into the canal.
On deck there were swarms of full-size underlings.
By late afternoon Arthur had had to find somewhere to put all the money. He now had a large barrel almost full of banknotes and coins. On deck there were swarms of full-size underlings, and there was still a queue of ladies on the towpath, but none of them had pet underlings.
“Where are you going to put the size?” asked Arthur, looking around.
“We need to find some more shrunken underlings,” Marjorie told him.
“Why don’t I go and get Match from the shop, and the little cabbagehead that Titus is looking after?” Tom suggested.
“Yes! And what about the freshwater sea-cow that was here on the boat?” Marjorie asked.
“We did her hours ago,” Tom said.
“Well, what shall I do while I am waiting? There are still loads of ladies on the towpath . . .”
“Isn’t that obvious?” asked Tom.
“No,” replied Marjorie.
“Don’t you want to get back to normal?” Tom asked.
Marjorie grinned at Willbury as he arrived.
Marjorie laughed, turning red. “Of course. It had gone clean out of my head.”
Tom returned with everyone from the shop to see a full-size Marjorie standing on deck, accompanied by full-size versions of Pickles and Levi.
Marjorie grinned at Willbury as he arrived.
“I am not sure I approve of this,” said Willbury.
“We didn’t have much choice in the matter,” said a much less squeaky Marjorie. “I think we would have been lynched if we had refused to cooperate. And look at the underlings!”
Willbury looked around at all the happy, big underlings milling about the deck.
He smiled. “Well, let’s finish this off. Fish, please bring Match over. We are going to get his size back.”
Fish placed Match in front of the screen, and Marjorie ordered the pirate to let another lady through.
Over the next few minutes the queue of ladies on the towpath disappeared, and Match and Titus’s friend regained their size.
“That’s the last one!” said Marjorie triumphantly. “Everyone’s back up to full size!”
“Right!” said Willbury. “Now, Marjorie, could you lend me your machine for a minute?” Marjorie looked curious but handed the machine over. Willbury placed the machine on the deck.
“Herbert, could you do the honors with your walloper, please?”
“But . . . ,” Marjorie cried, and started to move forward to get her machine.
Willbury raised a hand. “No! We have had enough of all this resizing. I am going to get Herbert to destroy the resizer, and I want you to promise you are not going to try to build a new one.”
Herbert, walloping the machine.
Marjorie frowned for a moment and then slowly seemed to realize it was a good idea. “I suppose so . . . .”
“All right then. Herbert, wallop the machine!”
There was a mighty crash and the resizer lay bent beyond recovery on the deck.
“Thank you, Herbert!” Willbury said to his friend.
Marjorie looked from the smashed machine to Herbert. “Yes, thank you
very much, Herbert,” she said, resignation in her voice. Then Willbury noticed the barrel full of money.
“That’s my girl. And look, you’ve made rather a lot of money out of this. Perhaps you could put it to some more useful purpose than just changing the size of things,” he said warmly.
“And maybe something that causes less trouble,” added Grandfather, looking up at the smog that was starting to settle over the town. “Have you ever thought about going into pollution prevention?”
“I did have an idea about how to distill oil and run a motor off it. It would be a lot cleaner than steam engines,” Marjorie said, grinning.
That night a party was held on the Laundry.
“Do you think I could help?” asked Arthur.
“Of course you could. I need a bright assistant.”
That night a party was held on the Laundry. The crows played harmonium, vast quantities of cocoa were drunk, everybody danced, and complaints were made about the noise to the Squeakers, who did nothing about it. As the party died down, Arthur wandered onto the towpath with his friends—Fish, Tom, and Kipper—for a little peace away from the crows’ “music.” As they walked along, they saw Willbury and Grandfather sitting on the bank with Titus.
“What are they doing?” asked Arthur.
“Looks like they’re throwing weeds in the canal,” replied Kipper.
As they approached, Willbury put his fingers to his lips to keep them quiet, then pointed out into the canal.
There were the mother freshwater sea-cow and her size-restored calves, feeding on the weeds that Willbury and Grandfather had been throwing in.
They watched until the sea-cows had had their fill and swam off down the canal. Willbury and Arthur helped Grandfather to his feet, and they all waved as the little group of sea-cows slowly disappeared into the distance.