The Admiral's Caravan Part 8

"A snake is as round as a hole in the ground, And weasels are wavy and sleek; And no alligator could ever be straighter Than lizards that live in a creek.

But a Camel's all lumpy And b.u.mpy and humpy-- ANY SHAPE does for me!"

Now, Dorothy was a very tender-hearted little child, and by the time these verses were finished she hardly knew whether to laugh or to cry.

"Poor old, feeble-minded thing!" she said, compa.s.sionately. "And what became of him at last?"

There was a dead silence for a moment, and then the Admiral said solemnly:

"We put him in a pond."

"Why, that's the most unhuman thing I ever heard of in all my life!"

exclaimed Dorothy, greatly shocked at this news.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE CARAVAN DISCIPLINE THE CAMEL.]

"Well," said the Admiral, in a shamefaced sort of way, "_we_ thought it was a good thing to do--for us, you know."

"And _I_ call it proud and unforgiving," said Dorothy, indignantly.

"Did the poor creature say anything?"

"Not at first," said the Admiral; "but after he got in he said things."

"Such as what?" said Dorothy.

"Oh, we couldn't make out _what_ he said," replied the Admiral, peevishly. "It was perfectly unintellijibbergibble."

"Kind of gurgly," put in the Highlander.

"Did he go right down?" inquired Dorothy, very anxiously.

"Not a bit of it," said the Admiral, flippantly. "He never went down at all. He floated, just like a cork, you know."

"Round and round and round," added Sir Walter.

"Like a turnip," put in the Highlander.

"What do you mean by _that_?" said Dorothy, sharply.

"Nothing," said the Highlander, looking very much abashed; "only I thought turnips turned round."

Dorothy was greatly provoked at all this, and felt that she really ought to say something very severe; but the fact was that the Caravan looked so innocent, sitting on the gra.s.s with their sunbonnets all crooked on their heads, that it was as much as she could do to keep from laughing outright. "You know," she said to herself, "if it wasn't for the Highlander's whiskers, it'd be precisely like a' infant cla.s.s having a picnic; and after all, they're really nothing but graven images"--so she contented herself by saying, as severely as she could:

"Well, I'm extremely displeased, and I'm very much ashamed of all of you."

The Caravan received this reproof with great cheerfulness, especially the Admiral, who took a look at Dorothy through his spy-gla.s.s, and then said with much satisfaction: "Now we're each being ashamed of by _three_ persons"; but Dorothy very properly took no notice of this remark, and walked away in a dignified manner.

CHAPTER X

THE SIZING TOWER

As Dorothy walked along, wondering what would happen to her next, she felt something tugging at her frock, and looking around she saw that it was the Highlander running along beside her, quite breathless, and trying very hard to attract her attention. "Oh, it's you, is it?" she said, stopping short and looking at him pleasantly.

"Yes, it's me," said the Highlander, sitting down on the ground as if he were very much fatigued. "I've been wanting to speak to you privately for a very long time."

"What about?" said Dorothy, wondering what was coming now.

"Well," said the Highlander, blushing violently and appearing to be greatly embarra.s.sed, "you seem to be a very kind-hearted person, and I wanted to show you some poetry I've written."

"Did you compose it?" said Dorothy, kindly.

"No," said the Highlander; "I only made it up. Would you like to hear it?"

"Oh, yes, indeed," said Dorothy, as gravely as she could; "I should like to hear it very much."

"It's called"--said the Highlander, lowering his voice confidentially and looking cautiously about--"it's called 'The Pickle and the Policeman';" and, taking a little paper out of his pocket, he began:

"There was a little pickle and his name was John--"

"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Dorothy, "I don't think that will do _at all_."

"Suppose I call him _George_?" said the Highlander, gazing reflectively at his paper. "It's got to be something short, you know."

"But you mustn't call him _anything_," said Dorothy, laughing. "Pickles don't have any names."

"All right," said the Highlander; and, taking out a pencil, he began repairing his poetry with great industry. He did a great deal of writing, and a good deal of rubbing out with his thumb, and finally said triumphantly:

"There was a little pickle and he hadn't any name!"

"Yes, that will do very nicely," said Dorothy; and the Highlander, clearing his voice, read off his poetry with a great flourish:

"There was a little pickle and he hadn't any name-- In this respect, I'm just informed, all pickles are the same.

A large policeman came along, a-swinging of his club, And took that little pickle up and put him in a tub.

"That's rather good about taking him up," said the Highlander, chuckling to himself; "so exactly like a policeman, you know."

"Oh, yes, indeed," said Dorothy, who was ready to scream with laughter.

"What's the rest of it?"

"There isn't any more," said the Highlander, rather confusedly. "There was going to be another verse, but I couldn't think of anything more to say."

"Oh, well, it's very nice as it is," said Dorothy, consolingly; and then, as the Highlander put up his paper and went away, she laughed till her eyes were full of tears. "They are _all_ funny," she said at last, as she walked away through the wood, "but I think _he's_ funnier than all of 'em put together"--which, by the way, was not a very sensible remark for her to make, as you will see if you'll take the trouble to think it over.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'THERE ISN'T ANY MORE,' SAID THE HIGHLANDER, RATHER CONFUSEDLY."]

But presently, as she strolled along, she made a discovery that quite drove the Highlander and his ridiculous poetry out of her head. It was a tower in the wood; not an ordinary tower, of course, for there would have been nothing remarkable about that, but a tower of shining bra.s.s, and so high that the top of it was quite out of sight among the branches of the trees. But the strangest thing about it was that there seemed to be no possible way of getting into it, and Dorothy was very cautiously walking around it to see if she could find any door when she came suddenly upon the Caravan standing huddled together, and apparently in a state of great excitement.