Chapter II (4)

A light had sprung awake in the pantry. Cyril always said the Phoenix turned the gas on with its beak and lighted it with a waft of its wing, but he was excited at the time and perhaps he really did it himself with matches, and then forgot all about it. He let the others in by the back door. And when it had been bolted again and the luggage had been got off the doorstep the children went all over the house and lighted every single gas-jet they could find. For they couldn't help feeling that this was just the dark, dreary winter's evening when an armed burglar might easily be expected to appear at any moment. There is nothing like light when you are afraid of burglars, or of anything else, for that matter.

And when all the gas-jets were lighted it was quite clear that the Phoenix had made no mistake, and that Eliza and cook were really out, and that there was no one in the house except the four children, and the Phoenix and the carpet, and the black-beetles who lived in the cupboards on each side of the nursery fireplace. These last were very pleased that the children had come home again, especially when Anthea had lighted the nursery fire. But, as usual, the children treated the loving little black-beetles with coldness and disdain.

While Anthea was delighting the poor little black-beetles with the cheerful blaze, Jane had set the table for--I was going to say tea, but the meal of which I am speaking was not exactly tea. Let us call it a tea-ish meal. There was tea, certainly, for Anthea's fire blazed and crackled so kindly that it really seemed to be affectionately inviting the kettle to come and sit upon its lap. So the kettle was brought and tea made. But no milk could be found, so everyone had six lumps of sugar to each cup instead. The things to eat, on the other hand, were nicer than usual. The boys looked about very carefully, and found in the pantry some cold tongue, bread, butter, cheese, and part of a cold pudding--very much nicer than cook ever made when they were at home. And in the kitchen cupboard were half a Christmassy cake, a pot of strawberry jam, and about a pound of mixed candied fruit with soft, crumbly slabs of delicious sugar in each cup of lemon, orange, or citron.

It was indeed, as Jane said, "a banquet fit for an Arabian knight."

The Phoenix perched on Robert's chair, and listened kindly and politely to all they had to tell it about their visit to Lyndhurst, and underneath the table, by just stretching a toe down rather far, the faithful carpet could be felt by all, even by Jane, whose legs were very short.

"Your slaves will not return to-night," said the Phoenix. "They sleep under the roof of the cook's step-mother's aunt, who is, I gather, hostess to a large party to-night in honour of her husband's cousin's sister-in-law's mother's ninetieth birthday."

"I don't think they ought to have gone without leave," said Anthea, "however many relations they have, but I suppose we ought to wash up."

"It's not our business about the leave," said Cyril, firmly; "but I simply won't wash up for them. We got it, and we'll clear it away--and then we'll go somewhere on the carpet. It's not often we get a chance of being out all night. We can go right away to the other side of the Equator, to the tropical climes, and see the sun rise over the great Pacific Ocean."

"Right you are," said Robert. "I always did want to see the Southern Cross and the stars as big as gas-lamps."

"_Don't_ go," said Anthea, very earnestly, "because I _couldn't_. I'm _sure_ mother wouldn't like us to leave the house, and I should hate to be left here alone."

"I'd stay with you," said Jane, loyally.

"I know you would," said Anthea, gratefully; "but even with you I'd much rather not."

"Well," said Cyril, trying to be kind and amiable, "I don't want you to do anything you think's wrong, _but_----"

He was silent. This silence said many things.

"I don't see----" Robert was beginning, when Anthea interrupted.

"I'm quite sure. Sometimes you just think a thing's wrong, and sometimes you _know_. And this is a _know_ time."

The Phoenix turned kind golden eyes on her and opened a friendly beak to say:--

"When it is, as you say, a 'know time' there is no more to be said. And your noble brothers would never leave you."

"Of course not," said Cyril, rather quickly. And Robert said so, too.

"I myself," the Phoenix went on, "am willing to help in any way possible. I will myself go--either by carpet or on the wing--and fetch you anything you can think of to amuse you during the evening. In order to waste no time I could go while you wash up. Why," it went on, in a musing voice, "does one wash up teacups and wash down the stairs?"

"You couldn't wash stairs up, you know," said Anthea, "unless you began at the bottom and went up feet first as you washed. I wish cook would try that way for a change."

"I don't," said Cyril, briefly. "I should hate the look of her elastic-side boots sticking up."

"This is mere trifling," said the Phoenix. "Come, decide what I shall fetch for you. I can get you anything you like."

But, of course, they couldn't decide. Many things were suggested: a rocking-horse, jewelled chessmen, an elephant, a bicycle, a motor-car, books with pictures, musical instruments, and many other things. But a musical instrument is agreeable only to the player, unless he has learned to play it really well; books are not sociable, bicycles cannot be ridden without going out of doors, and the same is true of motor-cars and elephants. Only two people can play chess at once with one set of chessmen (and anyway it's very much too much like lessons for a game), and only one can ride on a rocking-horse. Suddenly in the midst of the discussion the Phoenix spread its wings and fluttered to the floor, and from there it spoke.

"I gather," it said, "from the carpet that it wants you to let it go to its old home, where it was born and brought up, and it will return within the hour laden with a number of the most beautiful and delightful products of its native land."

"What _is_ its native land?"

"I didn't gather. But since you can't agree, and time is passing, and the tea-things are not washed down--I mean washed up--"

"I votes we do," said Cyril. "It'll stop all this jaw, any way. And it's not bad to have surprises. Perhaps it's a Turkey carpet, and it might bring us Turkish delight."

"Or a Turkish patrol," said Robert.

"Or a Turkish bath," said Anthea.

"Or a Turkish towel," said Jane.

"Nonsense," Cyril urged; "it said beautiful and delightful, and towels and baths aren't _that_, however good they may be for you. Let it go. I suppose it won't give us the slip," he added, pushing back his chair and standing up.

"Hush!" said the Phoenix; "how can you? Don't trample on its feelings just because it's only a carpet."

"But how can it do it--unless one of us is on it--to do the wishing?" asked Robert. He spoke with a rising hope that it _might_ be necessary for one to go--and why not Robert? But the Phoenix quickly threw cold water on his new-born flame.

"Why, you just write your wish on a paper and pin it on the carpet."

So a leaf was torn from Anthea's arithmetic book, and on it Cyril wrote, in large round-hand, the following:--

"We wish you to go to your dear native home, and bring back the most beautiful and delightful productions of it you can--and not to be gone long, please. (Signed)

"CYRIL, ROBERT, ANTHEA, JANE."

Then the paper was laid on the carpet.

"Writing down, please," said the Phoenix; "the carpet can't read a paper whose back is turned to it any more than you can."

It was pinned fast; and the table and chairs having been moved the carpet simply and suddenly vanished, rather like a patch of water on a hearth under a fierce fire. The edges got smaller and smaller, and then it disappeared from sight.

"It may take it some time to collect the beautiful and delightful things," said the Phoenix. "I should wash up--I mean wash down."

So they did. There was plenty of hot water left in the kettle, and everyone helped: even the Phoenix, who took up cups by their handles with its clever claws, and dipped them in the hot water, and then stood them on the table ready for Anthea to dry them. Everything was nicely washed up and dried and put in its proper place, and the dish-cloth washed and hung on the edge of the copper to dry, and the tea-cloth was hung on the line that goes across the scullery. (If you are a duchess's child, or a King's, or a person of high social position's child, you will, perhaps, not know the difference between a dish-cloth and a tea-cloth, but in that case your nurse has been better instructed than you, and she will tell you all about it.) And just as eight hands and one pair of claws were being dried on the roller towel behind the scullery door there came a strange sound from the other side of the kitchen wall--the side where the nursery was. It was a very strange sound indeed--most odd--and unlike any other sounds the children had ever heard. At least, they had heard sounds as much like it as a toy engine's whistle is like a steam siren's.

"The carpet's come back," said Robert, and the others felt that he was right.

"But what has it brought with it?" asked Jane. "It sounds like Leviathan, that great beast----"

"It couldn't have been made in India and have brought elephants? Even baby ones would be rather awful in that room," said Cyril.

"It's no use sending the carpet to fetch precious things for you if you're afraid to look at them when they come," said the Phoenix, sensibly. And Cyril, being the eldest, said "Come on," and turned the handle.

The gas had been left full on after tea, and everything in the room could be plainly seen by the ten eyes at the door. At least, not everything, for though the carpet was there it was invisible, because it was completely covered by the hundred and ninety-nine beautiful objects which it had brought from its birthplace.

"Cats!" Cyril exclaimed. "I never thought about its being a _Persian_ carpet."

Yet it was now plain that this was so, for the beautiful objects which it had brought back were cats--Persian cats--grey Persian cats, and there were, as I have said, one hundred and ninety-nine of them, and they were sitting on the carpet as close as they could get to each other. But the moment the children entered the room the cats rose and stretched, and spread and overflowed from the carpet to the floor, and in an instant the floor was a sea of moving, mewing pussishness, and the children, with one accord, climbed to the table and gathered up their legs, and the people next door knocked on the wall; and, indeed, no wonder, for the mews were Persian and piercing.

"This is pretty poor sport," said Cyril. "What's the matter with the bounders?"

"I imagine that they are hungry," said the Phoenix. "If you were to feed them----"

"We haven't anything to feed them with," said Anthea, in despair, and she stroked the nearest Persian back. "Oh, pussies, do be quiet; we can't hear ourselves think." She had to shout this entreaty, for the mews were growing deafening. "And it would take pounds and pounds' worth of cat's-meat."

"Let's ask the carpet to take them away," said Robert.

But the girls said "No."

"They are so soft and pussy," said Jane.

"And valuable," said Anthea, hastily. "We can sell them for lots and lots of money."

"Why not send the carpet to get food for them?" suggested the Phoenix, and its golden voice became harsh and cracked with the effort it had to make to be heard above the increasing fierceness of the Persian mews.

So it was written that the carpet should bring food for one hundred and ninety-nine Persian cats, and the paper was pinned to the carpet as before.

The carpet seemed to gather itself together, and the cats dropped off it as rain-drops do from your mackintosh when you shake it. And the carpet disappeared.

Unless you have had one hundred and ninety-nine well-nourished Persian cats in one small room, all hungry, and all saying so in unmistakable mews, you can form but a poor idea of the noise that now deafened the children and the Phoenix.

The cats mewed and mewed and mewed, and twisted their Persian forms in and out and unfolded their Persian tails, and the children and the Phoenix huddled together by the door.

The Phoenix, Robert noticed suddenly, was trembling.

"So many cats," it said, "and they might not know I was the Phoenix. These accidents happen so quickly. It quite unmans me."

This was a danger of which the children had not thought.

"Creep in," cried Robert, opening his jacket. And the Phoenix crept in--only just in time, for green eyes had glared, pink noses had sniffed, white whiskers had twitched, and as Robert buttoned his coat he disappeared to the waist in a wave of eager grey Persian fur. And on the instant the good carpet slapped itself down on the floor. And it was covered with rats--three hundred and ninety-eight of them, I believe--two for each cat.

"How horrible!" cried Anthea. "Oh, take them away!"

"Take yourself away," said the Phoenix, "and me."

"I wish we'd never had a carpet," said Anthea, in tears.

They hustled and crowded out of the door, and shut it and locked it. Cyril, with great presence of mind, lit a candle and turned off the gas at the main. "The rats'll have a better chance in the dark," he said.

The mewing had ceased. Everyone listened in breathless silence. We all know that cats eat rats--it is one of the first things we read in our nice little reading books; but all those cats eating all those rats--it wouldn't bear thinking of.

Suddenly Robert sniffed, in the silence of the dark kitchen where the only candle was burning all on one side, because of the draught.

"What a funny scent!" he said.

And as he spoke a lantern flashed its light through the window of the kitchen, a face peered in, and a voice said:--

"What's all this row about? You let me in."

It was the voice of the police!

Robert tip-toed to the window and spoke through the pane that was a little cracked.

"What do you mean?" he said. "There's no row. You listen; everything's as quiet as quiet."

And indeed it was.

The strange sweet scent grew stronger, and the Phoenix put out its beak.

The policeman hesitated.

"They're _musk_ rats," said the Phoenix. "I suppose some cats eat them--but never Persian ones. What a mistake for a well-informed carpet to make! Oh, what a night we're having!"

"Do go away," said Robert, nervously, to the policeman. "We're just going to bed--that's our bedroom candle--there isn't any row. Everything's as quiet as a mouse."

A wild chorus of mews drowned his words, and with the mews were mingled the shrieks of the musk rats. What had happened? Had the cats tasted them before deciding that they disliked the flavour?

"I'm a-comin' in," said the policeman. "You've got a cat shut up there."

"A cat!" said Cyril. "Oh, my only aunt! _A_ cat!"

"Come in, then," said Robert. "It's your own look-out. I advise you not. Wait a shake, and I'll undo the side door."

He undid the side door, and the policeman, very cautiously, came in.

And there, in the kitchen, by the light of one candle, with the mewing and the screaming going on like a dozen steam sirens, twenty waiting motor-cars, and half a hundred squeaking pumps, four agitated voices shouted to the policeman four mixed or wholly different explanations of the very mixed events of the evening.

Did you ever try to explain the simplest thing to a policeman?

_Curiosities._

Copyright, 1904, by George Newnes, Ltd.

[_We shall be glad to receive Contributions to this section, and to pay for such as are accepted._]

CART-WHEEL WINDOW.

"There is a blacksmith's shop at Llancayo, near Usk, Mon., that possesses an extraordinary window. The framework of the window consists of a cart-wheel let into the wall, with panes of glass between the spokes."--Mr. W. Marsh, 1, Church Street, Monmouth.

CURIOUS ADDRESS.

"I send you a post-card which I received in the ordinary way by post from my brother, who lives at Sutton Scarsdale, a scattered village near Chesterfield. You will notice that the card was posted at 7.15 p.m. on the 5th October, and it was delivered during the evening of the following day. The address looks a mixture of Greek and German, but on inspection it will be found that each letter is spelled out in full. The pencilled words were inserted by the Post Office officials. The Post Office is often the object of complaints for tardiness in delivery, but I think great credit is due to it for its cleverness and promptness in this case."--Mr. John Alderson, 12, Albert Road, Stroud Green, N.

A DISTORTING MIRROR.

"While staying in Jersey I visited a point called La Corbière, where I noticed a mirror in the form of a ball standing out in the open on a pedestal. Objects reflected in it were so clear that I determined to photograph it, with the result that rather curious shapes were given to myself and friend." Mr. C. S. Wilson, 18, Milton Road, Swindon.

HOME-MADE MOTOR-CAR.

"This original auto was made in the winter of 1886 by Mr. Philbrick and Mr. J. Elmer Wood in Beverley, Mass. It had double engines, porcupine boiler, kerosene fuel, and only three wheels--two of which were thirty-six inches in diameter, and the front, or steering-wheel, twenty-six inches. It was used on the road with great success, carrying about three hundred pounds of steam, but wanted some changes, which even at that early date we could easily see. The machine is still existing at Beverley, though it is now, of course, somewhat dilapidated after so many years of wear."--Mr. J. Elmer Wood, Beverley, Mass.

AN AUTOMATIC BASEBALL PITCHER.

"This curious-looking machine is a baseball pitcher which is automatic. It is operated by compressed air, and is so arranged that it will 'pitch' a ball with an upward curve or downward curve just as well as an expert ball player. The machine consists of a tube about thirty-six inches long which is just large enough to hold the ball. The tube can be pointed in any direction, and the rear end is fitted with a contrivance by which the ball can be curved. When the operator wishes to make a pitch he merely presses a lever which admits the compressed air into the tube, and the ball is shot out like the bullet from an air-gun. The invention is not intended to take the place of a human pitcher, but to be used in practice games, so that the man at the bat can become expert in hitting curves and balls pitched at various degrees of speed." Why should not a similar machine be used in this country as a practice bowler at cricket?--The above is sent by Mr. D. Allen Willey, Baltimore.

A BOGUS DWARF.

"This figure of the dwarf, taken at an evening party in Kimberley, South Africa, was impersonated by my brother and a friend as follows: My brother stood upright with his hands on a table (these forming the feet of the dwarf), on which were placed stockings and small shoes. He had a little garment made with sleeves, through which his friend, who stood just behind, put his arms and hands, on which were mittens to make them look small; these formed the hands of the dwarf. My brother was adorned with a large sun hat called a 'cappie,' goggles, and a necklace, and the dwarf was complete--his friend, of course, being concealed by curtains."--Mr. F. E. Glover, 41, Drayton Park, Highbury, N.

INSECT OR WHAT?

"I send you the photograph of an extraordinarily curious insect: I am not prepared to say whether it is an insect or some kind of organism. I can only say that it is alive and lives on red lead. The lady in whose possession it is has had it for upwards of eighteen years, and who knows how many years of life it had before? It is covered with light brown hair (which has to be cut occasionally), very like deer's hair, and is the size of a large marble. The 'curious insect' was given to the lady's husband by a rich native who gave up all his worldly possessions and became a fakir. When giving it to the gentleman (who had shown the man some kindness) he said that it would always bring him good luck."--Mr. T. G. A. Baness, Hall Bazaar, Amritsur, Punjab.

STRANGE ADVENTURE OF A RAILWAY CARRIAGE.

"The discarded railway carriage shown in the photograph has had an eventful career. After being drawn at the end of freight trains over thousands of miles of the Erie Railroad tracks it was finally condemned and sent to the graveyard, where cars of this character meet an ignominious end--they being chopped up for firewood. But after it had been sent to what was thought would be its last resting-place, Lieut. Peary, the well-known Arctic explorer, asked the Erie Railroad officials if they could loan him a discarded carriage for use on his ship _Windward_. This carriage was accordingly selected, and it was placed on the deck of the _Windward_, where it was fitted up as a cabin. The journeys of this carriage, therefore, instead of being at an end had really only begun, for it was destined to make the longest trip in its history. It remained on board the _Windward_ throughout the perilous trip to the Frozen North, and returned with the ship to New York a little over a year ago. Lieut. Peary having no further use for it sent it back to the Erie Railroad, and it is now an object of curiosity at Shohola Glen, Pike County, Pa., a popular excursion resort on the line of the Erie Railroad."--Mr. Adolph A. Langer, 116, Danforth Avenue, Jersey City, N. J.

GIGANTIC BEER BARREL

"This enormous barrel was erected in the great Industrial Exhibition held at Osaka, Japan. It is the property of the 'Yebisu' Beer Company, and was built for the purpose of advertising that brand of malt liquor. The height is about fifty feet and the diameter of its base some thirty feet, while the thickness of its wall exceeds two feet. It is fitted up as a beer hall within and contains ten round tables, each capable of accommodating five or six persons. There is also a large counter. It is one of the most remarkable of the many advertising devices ever carried out in this enterprising 'Land of the Rising Sun.' The photograph was taken by Mr. G. M. Arab, of this city."--Mr. W. J. Toms, Kobé, Japan.

AMALGAMATED BY LIGHTNING.

"I send you a photograph showing in two positions the curious amalgamation of coins by a flash of lightning. This incident occurred in a miner's hut in Swazieland some time in December, 1897, and the photograph represents money to the value of fourteen shillings and sixpence, viz., one half sovereign, four single shillings, and a sixpence. The money was placed on a table in the order given, the half-sovereign being under the other coins and lying on the face of the table. The hut was not injured by the lightning, as the fluid entered by the window and passed over the table (on which the coins were) and out at the open door. The table (in the centre of the hut and in a line with the window and door) had a badly scorched line over it. The money, after the flash, lay in exactly the same position as before; the only difference was its being fused into one mass instead of six different coins. At the time of the flash the miner happened to be absent."--Mr. A. E. Graham Lawrance, Barberton, Transvaal.

HOW DID IT GET THERE?

"I was cutting the corner off a gammon of bacon when I discovered I had sawn through a piece of glass which was lying quite close to and parallel with the thigh-bone, and had I known of its presence I could have taken it out whole. It measures, when put together, six and a quarter inches. How it got into this position is a mystery, as there was no indication of its progress anywhere and the meat was perfectly healthy and in no way discoloured. Whether the poor pig swallowed it or sat on it I leave for your readers to conjecture. Photo, by W. B. Gardner, Farnborough."--Mr. W. J. Buck, Cove Road, Farnborough, Hants.

A STRANGE ILLUSION.

"You will see in this photograph that the right arm of my daughter has got the hand on the wrong side, the thumb being where the little finger ought to be. This is accounted for by the photo, being vignetted, the hand really belonging to another daughter who does not appear in the picture."--Mr. Dorsay Ansell, Supt. St. George's Garden, Wakefield Street, W.C.

AN INGENIOUS ADVERTISEMENT.

"The advertisement shown in the accompanying photograph--for some drink prepared by one Jesse Moore--is quite the cleverest I have seen in any American city. It is situated near the entrance to the Golden Gate Park, at San Francisco. The shoulders, head, and arms of the man appearing above the hoarding are cut out of wood and look most realistic, if somewhat gigantic, against the background of the sky, and the painting of the face is quite a work of art."--Mr. F. A. E. Dolmage, 243, Cromwell Road, South Kensington.

A NARROW ESCAPE.

"An officer was resting and enjoying a nap after an exceedingly hard morning's drill. A flash of lightning first struck and doubled up his scabbard and thence passed to his mirror hanging close by, smashing it as the enclosed photo shows. I need hardly say this worthy gentleman, awaking so suddenly from his slumbers, scarcely knew for some time whether he was in China, South Africa, or good Old England."--Mr. F. E. Robinson, Sylvester House, Colchester.

CEMETERY FOR SOLDIERS' DOGS.

"Here is a photograph of the cemetery for soldiers' dogs at Edinburgh Castle. Judging from the inscriptions on the stones, each department seems to have had its favourite. The band pet was Tork; that of the pioneer section, Pat; the transport pet, Jess; and so on, including the general pets, such as Little Tom, Tum-Tum, etc."--Mr. E. Mallinson, 12, Golden Square, Aberdeen, N.B.

A DEVOTED DOG.

"The dog shown in the picture is exceedingly fond of his master and will follow him almost anywhere. The snap-shot reproduced here shows the dog actually diving off a board in company with his master, whilst a friend is turning a somersault behind."--Mr. J. de Tymowski, Stratford-Sub-Castle, Salisbury.

NOT SO TALL AS HE LOOKS.

"At first sight my photograph seems to be that of an immensely tall man, but in reality the legs of the giant belong to somebody else, while the top half is standing on a barrel."--Mr. H. S. Nicolson, Brough Lodge, Fetlar, Shetland.

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| Transcriber's notes: |
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| P.77. 'tells it own tale', changed 'it' to 'it's'. |
| P.96. 'prongs of the fork'--changed 'fork' to 'forks'. |
| Fixed various punctuation. |
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