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But Sir Peter said serenely, "You may double-shot the guns While I sing my little ballad of 'The b.u.t.ter on the Buns.'"
Then the Pirate banged Sir Peter and Sir Peter banged him back, And they banged away together as they took another tack.
Then Sir Peter said politely, "You may board him, if you like"-- And he played a little dirge upon the handle of a pike.
Then the "Biddies" poured like hornets down upon the Pirate's deck, And Sir Peter caught the Pirate, and he took him by the neck, And remarked, "You must excuse me, but you acted like a brute When I gave my imitation of that double-jointed flute."
So they took that wicked Pirate, and they took his wicked crew, And tied them up with double knots in packages of two; And left them lying on their backs in rows upon the beach With a little bread and water within comfortable reach.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "SIR PETER CAUGHT THE PIRATE, AND HE TOOK HIM BY THE NECK."]
Now the Pirate had a treasure (mostly silverware and gold), And Sir Peter took and stowed it in the bottom of his hold; And said "I will retire on this cargo of doubloons, And each of you, my gallant crew, may have some silver spoons."
Now commodores in coach-and-fours, and corporals in cabs, And men with carts of pies and tarts, and fishermen with crabs, And barristers with wigs, in gigs, still gather on the strand-- But there isn't any music save a little German band.
"I think Sir Peter was perfectly grand!" said Dorothy, as the Admiral finished his verses. "He was so composed."
"So was the poetry," said the Admiral. "It _had_ to be composed, you know, or there wouldn't have been any."
"_That_ would have been fine!" remarked the Highlander.
The Admiral got so red in the face at this, that Dorothy thought he was going into some kind of a fit; but just at this moment there was a sharp rap at the door, and Sir Walter exclaimed, "_That's_ Bob Scarlet, and here we are in his flower-bed!"
"Jibs and jiggers!" said the Admiral, "I never thought of that. What do you suppose he'll do?"
"Pick us!" said the Highlander, with remarkable presence of mind.
"Then tell him we're all out," said the Admiral to Dorothy in extreme agitation, and with this, the whole Caravan disappeared under the bed with all possible despatch.
"We _are_ out, you know," said Dorothy to herself, "because there's no _in_ for us to be in"; and then she called out in a very loud voice, "We're all out in here!" which wasn't exactly what she meant to say, after all.
But there was no answer, and she was just stooping down to call through the keyhole when she saw that the wall-paper was nothing but a vine growing on a trellis, and the door only a little rustic gate leading through it. "And, dear me!--where has the furniture gone to?" she exclaimed, for the curly chairs had changed into flower-pot stands, and the bed into a great mound of waving lilies, and she found herself standing in a beautiful garden.
CHAPTER V
BOB SCARLET'S GARDEN
Being in a garden full of flowers at Christmas-time is a very fine thing; and Dorothy was looking about with great delight, and wondering how it had all happened, when she suddenly caught sight of a big robin walking along one of the paths, and examining the various plants with an air of great interest. He was a very big robin, indeed--in fact, he was about as large as a goose; and he had on a gardener's hat, and a bright red waistcoat which he was wearing unb.u.t.toned so as to give his fat little chest plenty of room; but the most remarkable thing about him was that he was walking about _with his hands in his waistcoat-pockets_.
Dorothy had never seen a robin do this before, and she was looking at him in great astonishment, when he chanced to turn around to take a particular look at a large flower, and she saw that he had two caterpillars neatly embroidered on the back of his waistcoat so as to form the letters B. S.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "HE WAS WALKING ABOUT WITH HIS HANDS IN HIS WAISTCOAT-POCKETS."]
"Now I wonder what B. S. means," she said to herself with her usual curiosity. "It _stands_ for Brown Sugar, but, of course, it can't be that. Perhaps it means Best Suit, or Bird Superintendent, or--or--why it must mean Bob Scarlet, to be sure!" and clapping her hands in the joy of this discovery, she ran after the Robin to take a nearer look at him and, if possible, to have a little conversation.
But Bob Scarlet proved to be a very difficult person to get near to.
Over and over again Dorothy caught sight of the top of his hat beyond a hedge, or saw the red waistcoat through the bushes; but no matter how quickly she stole around to the spot, he was always gone before she got there, and she would see the hat or the waistcoat far away, in another part of the garden, and would hurry after him only to be disappointed as before. She was getting very tired of this, and was walking around rather disconsolately, when she happened to look at one of the plants, and discovered that little sunbonnets were growing on it in great profusion, like white lilies; and this was such a delightful discovery, and such an exceedingly interesting circ.u.mstance, that she instantly forgot all about Bob Scarlet, and started away in great excitement to examine the other plants.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "THERE WERE PLANTS LOADED DOWN WITH LITTLE PINAFORES, AND SHRUBS WITH SMALL SHOES GROWING ALL OVER THEM."]
There was a great variety of them, and they all were of the same curious character. Besides the bonnet-bush, there were plants loaded down with little pinafores, and shrubs with small shoes growing all over them, like peas, and delicate vines of thread with b.u.t.ton-blossoms on them, and, what particularly pleased Dorothy, a row of pots marked "FROCK FLOWERS," and each containing a stalk with a crisp little frock growing on it, like a big tulip upside down.
"They're only big enough for dolls," chattered Dorothy, as she hurried from one to the other, "but, of course, they'll grow. I s'pose it's what they call a nursery-garden. Just fancy--" she exclaimed, stopping short and clasping her hands in a rapture,--"just fancy going out to pick an ap.r.o.nful of delightful new stockings, or running out every day to see if your best frock is ripe yet!" And I'm sure I don't know what she would have said next, but just at this moment she caught sight of a paper lying in the path before her, and, of course, immediately became interested in _that_.
It was folded something like a lawyer's doc.u.ment, and was very neatly marked in red ink "MEMORUMDRUMS"; and after looking at it curiously for a moment, Dorothy said to herself, "It's prob'bly a wash-list; nothing but two ap.r.o.ns, and four HDKeffs, and ten towels--there's always such a _lot_ of towels, you know," and here she picked up the paper; but instead of being a wash-list, she found it contained these verses:
Have Angleworms attractive homes?
Do b.u.mblebees have brains?
Do Caterpillars carry combs?
Do Dodos dote on drains?
Can Eels elude elastic earls?
Do Flatfish fish for flats?
Are Grigs agreeable to girls?
Do Hares have hunting-hats?
Do Ices make an Ibex ill?
Do Jackdaws jug their jam?
Do Kites kiss all the kids they kill?
Do Llamas live on lamb?
Will Moles molest a mounted mink?
Do Newts deny the news?
Are Oysters boisterous when they drink?
Do Parrots prowl in pews?
Do Quakers get their quills from Quails?
Do Rabbits rob on roads?
Are Snakes supposed to sneer at snails?
Do Tortoises tease toads?
Can Unicorns perform on horns?
Do Vipers value veal?
Do Weasels weep when fast asleep?
Can Xylophagans squeal?
Do Yaks in packs invite attacks?
Are Zebras full of zeal?
P. S. Shake well and recite every morning in a shady place.
"I don't believe a single one of them, and I never read such stuff!"
exclaimed Dorothy, indignantly; and she was just about to throw down the paper when Bob Scarlet suddenly appeared, hurrying along the path, and gazing anxiously from side to side as if he had lost something. As he came upon Dorothy, he started violently, and said "Shoo!" with great vehemence, and then, after staring at her a moment, added, "Oh, I beg your pardon--I thought you were a cat. Have you seen anything of my exercise?"
"Is this it?" said Dorothy, holding up the paper.
"That's it," said the Robin, in a tone of great satisfaction. "Shake it hard, please."
Dorothy gave the paper a good shake, after which Bob Scarlet took it and stuffed it into his waistcoat-pocket, remarking, "It has to be well shaken before I take it, you know."
"Is that the prescription?" said Dorothy, beginning to laugh.