Bells were pealing and tolling in all directions, and the air was filled with the sound of distant shouts and cries.
Bells were pealing in all directions.
“What were they?” asked Davy, breathlessly.
“Butterscotchmen,” said the Goblin. “You see, they always butter their chairs so that they won’t stick fast when they sit down.”
“And what makes you that color?” said Davy, suddenly noticing that the Goblin had changed his color to a beautiful blue.
“Trouble and worry,” said the Goblin. “I always get blue when the Butterscotchmen are after me.”
“Are they coming after us now?” inquired Davy, in great alarm.
“Of course they are,” said the Goblin. “But the best of it is, they can’t run till they get warm, and they can’t get warm without running, you see. But the worst of it is that we can’t stop without sticking fast,” he added, anxiously. “We must keep it up until we get to the Amuserum.”
“What’s that?” said Davy.
“It’s a place they have to amuse themselves with,” said the Goblin,—“curiosities, and all that sort of thing, you know. By the way, how much money have you? We have to pay to get in.”
Davy began to feel in his pockets (which is a very difficult thing to do when you’re running fast), and found, to his astonishment, that they were completely filled with a most extraordinary lot of rubbish. First he pulled out what seemed to be an iron ball; but it proved to be a hard-boiled egg, without the shell, stuck full of small tacks. Then came two slices of toast, firmly tied together with a green cord. Then came a curious little glass jar, filled with large flies. As Davy took this out of his pocket, the cork came out with a loud “pop!” and the flies flew away in all directions. Then came, one after another, a tart filled with gravel, two chicken-bones, a bird’s nest with some pieces of brown soap in it, some mustard in a pill-box, and a cake of beeswax stuck full of caraway seeds. Davy remembered afterward that, as he threw these things away, they arranged themselves in a long row on the curb-stone of the street. The Goblin looked on with great interest as Davy fished them up out of his pockets, and finally said, enviously, “That’s a splendid collection; where did they all come from?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” said Davy, in great bewilderment.
“And I’m sure I don’t know,” repeated the Goblin. “What else is there?”
Davy felt about in his pockets again, and found what seemed to be a piece of money. On taking it out, however, he was mortified to find that it was nothing but an old button; but the Goblin exclaimed, in a tone of great satisfaction, “Ah! hold on to that!” and ran on faster than ever.
The sound of the distant voices had grown fainter and fainter still, and Davy was just hoping that their long run was almost over, when the street came abruptly to an end at a brick wall, over the top of which he could see the branches of trees. There was a small round hole in the wall, with the words “Pay here” printed above it, and the Goblin whispered to Davy to hand in the button through this hole. Davy did so, feeling very much ashamed of himself, when, to his surprise, instead of receiving tickets in return, he heard a loud exclamation behind the wall, followed by a confused sound of scuffling, and the hole suddenly disappeared. The next moment a little bell tinkled, and the wall rose slowly before them like a curtain, carrying the trees with it apparently, and he and the Goblin were left standing in a large open space paved with stone.
Davy was exceedingly alarmed at seeing a dense mass of Butterscotchmen in the centre of the square, pushing and crowding one another in a very quarrelsome manner, and chattering like a flock of magpies, and he was just about to propose a hasty retreat, when a figure came hurrying through the square, carrying on a pole a large placard, bearing the words:—
JUST RECEIVED!
THE GREAT FRUNGLES THING!
ON EXHIBITION IN THE PLUM-GARDEN!”
At the sight of these words the mob set up a terrific shout, and began streaming out of the square after the pole-bearer, like a flock of sheep, jostling and shoving one another as they went, and leaving Davy and the Goblin quite alone.
“I verily believe they’re gone to look at my button,” cried Davy, beginning to laugh, in spite of his fears. “They called me Frungles, you know.”
“That’s rather a nice name,” said the Goblin, who had begun smiling again. “It’s better than Snubgraddle, at all events. Let’s have a look at the curiosities;” and here he walked boldly into the centre of the square.
The goblin turned his telescope toward him.
Davy followed close at his heels, and found, to his astonishment and disappointment, that the curiosities were simply the things that he had fished out of his pockets but a few minutes before, placed on little pedestals and carefully protected by transparent sugar shades. He was on the point of laughing outright at this ridiculous exhibition, when he saw that the Goblin had taken a large telescope out of his pocket, and was examining the different objects with the closest attention, and muttering to himself, “Wonderful! wonderful!” as if he had never seen anything like them before.
“Pooh!” said Davy, contemptuously; “the only wonderful thing about them is, how they ever came here.”
At this remark the Goblin turned his telescope toward Davy, and uttered a faint cry of surprise; and Davy, peering anxiously through the large end, saw him suddenly shrink to the size of a small beetle, and then disappear altogether. Davy hastily reached out with his hands to grasp the telescope, and found himself staring through a round glass window into a farm-yard, where a red Cow stood gazing up at him.