“It’s Tubby!” cried Bulka. “It’s Tubby! Tubby,” he called, “is that you?”
Quite clearly he heard the tiny voice:
“Yes, Bulka!”
“Where are you, Tubby?” he asked.
And again the tiny voice whispered back:
“In Tubbyland, Bulka!”
“I told you!” said Gladys triumphantly. “I told you all along that’s where she was. Now at any rate we know where that wretched Tubbyland is!”
But the others paid no heed. They all had their ears to the tree—except naturally the Wooden Engine, who kept exclaiming: “What is she saying? What does she say?” and hopping up and down on his wheels with excitement.
“How can we get her out?” Harlequin asked.
How indeed? In vain they walked round and round the tree; there was no sign of a door anywhere, and of course they knew nothing of the hole in the top.
“We might tunnel underneath,” Poor Cecco said. And he began to dig, but his paws soon came against the hard roots, and he was forced to stop.
“Maybe she’ll eat her way out!” suggested the Lion hopefully.
No one thought this very likely. Harlequin stared at the tree, saying, “Hey Presto!” but as usual with no result.
“At any rate,” said Poor Cecco, “we won’t desert her!”
“We’ll stay by the tree all night!” declared the Lion.
And this they prepared to do, each at his station, leaning with their backs against the tree, while the Engine and the Express Wagon parked themselves side by side, within easy call, at the edge of the path.
Night fell; the moon shone out; every few minutes Bulka could be heard whispering: “Tubby, are you asleep? Good-night, Tubby!”
And in the branches above them a black form crouched, sleek and still. It was Murrum, thoroughly well pleased with his performance. There he sat, and stared down with pale contemptuous eyes on the faithful watchers gathered round the tree.
Chapter XVIII
THE RESCUE
PRESENTLY Poor Cecco felt some one nudging him. It was Jensina, who had crept softly round from the other side of the tree.
“Listen,” she whispered. “Listen, I have an idea!”
“What is it?” Poor Cecco whispered back.
Jensina, standing there on tiptoe, looked strangely excited. Her eyes shone in the moonlight.
“You know the rats? Do you remember what the Iron Grenadier said? Oh, Poor Cecco, suppose we get the rats to gnaw the tree and let Tubby out?”
“Jensina!” he exclaimed. “It’s wonderful! But they could never gnaw this tree through!”
“Rats can do anything,” Jensina said.
“They aren’t here.”
“They are. Sh-sh! I never told you, but Gladys saw them. The Easter Chicken told me. They are sitting on the front porch.”
“Have you got the Tooth?”
“It’s here,” said Jensina. “I didn’t dare leave it in the house.” She showed him the mysterious object, in its silver-paper wrapping. Poor Cecco gazed at it for a moment in silence.
“Oh, Jensina, aren’t you afraid? Let me go!” he entreated.
“No,” replied Jensina firmly. “I took the Tooth, and it’s I who must bargain with them. But you may keep quite near me,” she added.
Brave as she was, Jensina’s heart went thump—thump, as she advanced along the path towards the house. Hastily Poor Cecco had warned the others of her plan, and while he walked beside her they followed in a body, clinging to one another for protection, yet thrilled with curiosity to see what was going to happen.
And now they had reached the last patch of open moonlight between the lilac bush and the dark shadow of the porch. Here Jensina paused, while Poor Cecco whispered his last entreaties.
“Now, do be careful, Jensina! Remember what the Grenadier told you. Make them promise everything first, and don’t make a muddle of it!”
“Do you think I’m an idiot?” she demanded.
These words, so characteristic of Jensina’s brave spirit, did much to restore his confidence. He stood back, as she bade him, and alone Jensina strode forth into the patch of moonlight.
Immediately, from the porch shadow, the two rats came forward to meet her. Poor Cecco and Bulka recognised them at once; they were the two policemen rats who had followed them all along. They looked bigger and fiercer than ever. On they came, their whiskers twitching, their hind legs stretched behind, and within a few inches of Jensina they paused, sat up, and waited.
Jensina began to speak in the rat language, slowly at first, and then more rapidly. The rats nodded. Jensina pointed down the garden. The rats nodded again. She raised her hand, and the watchers could see distinctly the silver-paper shining in the moonlight.
The rats saw it too; one of them took a step forward, but with a swift gesture Jensina warned him back. Still holding the Tooth, she repeated, very slowly and distinctly, every word that she had said before, pausing every now and then to think whether she had left anything out.
The rats nodded once more, and now their faces were pleased and friendly. The fattest rat bowed. Then, while Poor Cecco fairly held his breath with suspense he came forward, and stretching out his paw politely took from Jensina’s hand the Tooth. Placing it in his mouth, he made one leap, and where he went does not matter, for he vanishes from this story forever, and the tooth with him.
Instantly there was a scuffling and squeaking. From every bush, from every patch of shadow, rats appeared. Grey rats, brown rats, old and young, dozens and dozens of them. Bulka gave a squeal of fright, but this time the rats paid no attention to him. Straight down the garden path they poured, scattering the toys in their course, over the parsley bed, right to the old willow, and by the time the toys had pulled themselves together and hurried back, they were already hard at work gnawing a hole in the side of the tree.
“Look!” Jensina cried, clapping her hand. “They’re cutting a doorway! Aren’t they clever? I told you they could do anything!”
The rats were in fact working in a circle, clinging with their feet to the bark while they gnawed. Soon the sawdust began to fall in a powdery heap that grew rapidly larger.
“Jensina!” Bulka cried. “How can I ever thank you!”
Jensina indeed was the heroine of the moment. Even the dolls smiled and tried to make up for the mean way they had acted. How they had misjudged her! If only, Gladys thought, she had known beforehand what an important person Jensina really was!
Meantime Anna, always timid, had been so alarmed by the sudden flood of rats that she ran away up the side path, straight towards the onion bed. Staring up at the sky as always, she never saw Poor Cecco’s trap until she had stumbled right on it. The stick came down with a whack, one corner of Anna’s green meadow sank into the hole Poor Cecco had so carefully dug, and stuck fast; there she stayed, tilted perilously sidewise, snivelling with fear and pain and ringing her bell loudly for help.
This time the Lion heard her. For all that he was a Lion, the nearness of those rats, and their long white teeth, made him strangely uncomfortable inside, and he was only too glad of any excuse to move away.
Tenderly he helped Anna out of the pit, and dried her tears, and together they stood in the moonlight side by side.
“If you would only flee with me to the jungle, dear Anna,” the Lion murmured for the hundred and first time, “this sort of thing wouldn’t happen!”
“I’m always fleeing,” returned Anna pettishly, for her back still smarted where the stick had hit it, “and look what comes of it! Even my green meadow is no longer safe nowadays! Not but what one might as well be in the jungle and have done with it,” she added rather more graciously, “with all those nasty rats about!”
And bending her head to simper at the Lion, she released it rather too suddenly, producing a loud and prolonged “baa-a-a!” which startled even herself.
“Your voice is like music,” the Lion whispered, gazing at her adoringly.
A
nd Anna simpered again.
The carpenter rats had worked so hard that by now they had nearly bitten through the tree. The toys stood round, breathless with excitement, while the sawdust fell faster and faster, and at last the section of bark, round which they had been gnawing, began to tremble.
Bulka, who had disappeared, came running up, carrying the blue beads which he had just fetched from the toy-cupboard.
And now the rats stopped working, wiped their foreheads, and drew back. The leader, clinging with his paws, gave one last bite, and the bark fell outwards, leaving a neat arched doorway through which, after a moment’s hushed suspense, Tubby herself walked proudly forth, bearing in one paw the scarlet jacket and in the other the sky-blue trousers trimmed with braid.
“Bulka!” cried Tubby.
“Tubby!” cried Bulka.
And they fell in each other’s arms.
• • • • • • •
The leader of the rats came up to Jensina, holding out a folded yellow paper which he drew from his breast pocket.
“Sign on the dotted line, please!” he said.
She wrote her name in large letters: JENSINA.
“Thank you,” said the rat, glancing at it. “And if you ever need another little job done, remember we give prompt service and are always willing to oblige.”
The second policeman rat also came forward and shook hands.
“A fine run you give us, young lady,” he said, “but we don’t hold no grudge for that, now that all’s friendly-like between us, as you may say. So bygones is bygones, and here’s wishing you and the young gentleman every happiness!”
Jensina glanced hastily at Poor Cecco, but he had not heard; he was talking to Tubby.
“Thank you very much!” she said. “But you are quite mistaken; we are not even engaged!”
“Well, you never know your luck!” returned the rat, smiling broadly, and he touched his forehead and moved away.
Harlequin gave a sudden cry: “There’s Murrum!”
Murrum was still crouched on the limb above them, gazing down in fury and switching his tail. It was this black tip, moving in the moonlight, which had caught Harlequin’s eye.
“Aha!” cried the rats. “We’ll soon settle that!”
And with a mighty whoop they began to scamper up the willow trunk. Murrum did not wait to meet them; he dropped to the ground, his ears laid back and his fur bristling, and made off over the parsley bed, the rats in glad pursuit.
“They can’t really hurt him,” said Jensina. “They only want to give him a good fright.”
Bulka had hung the blue beads solemnly round Tubby’s neck. He stood now, beaming with happiness, while she carefully measured the little jacket and trousers against him. They were exactly right!
“Oh, Tubby!” he whispered. “Where did you get these lovely clothes?”
“Aren’t they nice?” she returned proudly. “I bought them in Tubbyland!”
Chapter XIX
THE WEDDING
AND now, of course, there must be a wedding, and—of course—the wedding must take place in Willow Tree Hall, where, after the ceremony, a grand ball and reception would be held in honour of the bride and bridegroom.
Great preparations were afoot. Bulka’s costume was already provided; Tubby, by rights, should wear the white satin petticoat and veil, but Gladys had used the petticoat for so long that it was quite shabby, though the veil might yet pass muster, after being washed and mended, and the spray of orange blossom attached to it was still quite good.
So the dolls and Jensina sewed Tubby a new frock out of the pieces of coloured silk that had been in the Tubby-land box. It had purple sleeves and a bit of pink down the front and was trimmed with tinsel lace. With it she wore the blue beads.
Poor Cecco, who was to give Tubby away, wore a green ribbon tied round his middle, and the gilt watch and chain, a present from the bride.
Virginia May, Gladys and Jensina were bridesmaids, with white ribbons and bouquets of wild parsley blossom.
The wedding gifts were laid out on the cigar-box, covered with a blue cloth.
Jensina gave her drinking cup and the green glass stopper; Poor Cecco his penny. Gladys gave her last year’s straw hat, retrimmed, Virginia May a hair-ribbon for Tubby’s ears, and the Easter Chicken got up early and picked a large bunch of flowers. Harlequin gave a striped pebble that had been in a brooch. Anna, the Engine and the Lion gave a saucepan, three spoons and a bent napkin-ring, wrapped up in paper. They really belonged in the toy-cupboard, but every one was delighted that Tubby should have them. The rats presented a blue egg-cup, slightly chipped, an almost new tea-strainer and a silver pencil, sent all the way from the ash-heap country by Rat-Express, and the house-mice, to show their gratitude to the toys for driving Murrum away, brought seven thimblefuls of rice, a perfectly good cheese rind and a long pin with a pink head, which they had found under the floorboards.
And now the happy moment had arrived. The Express Wagon, making a fine clatter, drove up with the guests. Harlequin stood ready, the musical-box was all wound up to play; Tubby, in her veil and orange blossoms, and Bulka with his little scarlet coat and sky-blue trousers, were just about to kneel down side by side upon Ida, who had begged this privilege—
But they didn’t. They couldn’t, because Ida wasn’t there. And on enquiry, it appeared that no one had seen Ida since the early morning. Without Ida the wedding could not very well proceed, but just as they were all getting quite concerned the Easter Chicken called out:
“Here’s Ida! And, my goodness, look what she’s bringing!”
Ida, with her tender heart, had felt really upset when she saw the Money-Pig in pieces on the floor. All through the day, at intervals, she thought of him, put tidily away in the doll’s trunk. And now, when Tubby was found again and every one so happy it seemed too bad the Money-Pig, unpopular as he was, should be missing all the good times.
So after much hunting about Ida found an old tube of glue in a box on the pantry floor, and very secretly, while the others were busy, she set herself down in a corner of the toy-cupboard beside the doll’s trunk and proceeded to glue him together. It was a hard job; many of the pieces were chipped and wouldn’t fit, one ear was lost entirely, though Ida searched high and low for it; but in the end she got him together somehow, and more or less like his former self, except that the slit in his back would always remain a little crooked, try as she might. Well pleased with her labour, she had to wait till the glue was dry enough for him to be moved, and he could be brought, with the help of the Wooden Engine, as far as the Willow Tree. So there he stood at last, rather patchy in parts, shaky still on his legs and not a little ashamed of himself—but ravenously hungry.
Hurrying forward with many apologies Ida laid herself on the ground. Tubby and Bulka knelt down on her, side by side. In a hushed silence Bulka took the ring with the green stone and slipped it over Tubby’s paw, where it fitted easily. The musical-box burst out with a triumphant “Tum tum tum tumptity!” Harlequin waved his wand above them, saying “Hey Presto!” and immediately they were married.
Scarcely was the ceremony over, and every one had crowded round to kiss the bride, than the Lion came forward, with Anna sidling along behind. They too wanted to get married, seeing how simple it all was. Harlequin was willing, but Poor Cecco put his foot down.
“Nonsense!” he declared. “One wedding at a time! It’s Tubby’s turn to-day, and besides, there are no more gifts ready. Anna has spent all the summer shilly-shallying on account of that stupid green meadow of hers, and now she must just content herself with being engaged for the present!”
So they were engaged, formally; Anna, after some coyness, consented to wear a grass ring round her left ankle, and she took off her bell and hung it about the Lion’s neck.
“You were quite right,” Gladys whispered to Poor Cecco. “Anna could have made up her mind long ago, if she had had any sense.”
That night there was a grand ball in the Willow T
ree.
The walls were hung with garlands of flowers; refreshments were set out, and the squirrel arrived, bringing a whole bag of nuts. In the middle stood Tubby’s wedding-cake, with Icing AND Almonds AND Silver Balls. And at least three candles. The Toad, with a white apron over his spotted vest, acted as waiter and handed the plates. The three baby squirrels, too small to take part, were allowed to look on from their window until ten o’clock. Every one wore their best, and in addition to the Musical-box the Grasshopper and Crickets’ Jazz Band was engaged to play the dance music.
Never had there been such a gathering; the mice had been busy all morning carrying invitations, and the guests came from far and near.
Softly the green light shone out from the old willow tree walls, making the whole scene beautiful. Tubby danced with Bulka, Jensina with Poor Cecco, Gladys with Harlequin. Anna lumbered, giggling, through a quadrille with the Lion and the Engine—all found partners, and every little while Bulka would break away from the dance and turn somersaults for pure joy.
Every one had a wonderful time. Even the Money-Pig made himself agreeable. He could still only eat soft food; it was whispered that he might have to live on cake for the rest of his days, and he certainly began now with such haste that Bulka had to drag him away, declaring that some must be left for the rest of the guests!
In a pause in the music Poor Cecco stood by Jensina, gazing on the happy throng.
“Isn’t it nice?” he said. “Oh, Jensina, how well everything has turned out! Look at Tubby! Look at Bulka, all over cake crumbs! Really, it almost makes one feel—”
“Yes?” murmured Jensina, gazing shyly up at him. She was thinking of what the policeman rat had said.
“—makes one feel like standing on one’s head!” finished Poor Cecco somewhat hastily, for he had caught the look in Jensina’s eye.
Jensina’s natural common sense returned to her.
“You needn’t think I’m in a hurry to get married, either,” she retorted instantly, “because I’m not. I much prefer a life of adventure and combat!”