Chapter XVII: Mother Goose Once More

And so Bab, Meg, and Dick came back to Mother Goose’s cottage at last, and brought with them Prince Humpty Dumpty and the Princess Star.

It seemed to our three children, when they saw the cottage, that a very, very long time had passed since they left it to start upon their various adventures.

It all seemed very natural and homelike, somehow, coming back to the quaint little house, with its bright garden, and its latticed windows, and the door with its funny string-latch. In spite of their excitement, and all their narrow escapes, and everything that they all had been through, a feeling of peace came over them, and they felt happy enough to cry when the cottage door opened, and Mother Goose herself smiled at them from the threshold.

Of course there was the greatest sort of rejoicing when she and Humpty Dumpty met after all the centuries of their separation, and after they had kissed and hugged and cried over each other, she welcomed the Princess, and kissed her too very kindly. And finally she turned, with her very sweetest, gentlest look, to the three children who were standing together, silently looking on.

“Thank you, dear children,” she said. “You have served me very well, very bravely and very truly, and I am grateful.”

“Oh, Mother Goose,” broke out Bab, conscientiously, “I’m afraid if you knew—”

“I _do_ know,” said Mother Goose. “At this moment I am reading your eyes, and I can see every single thing that has happened to you all while you have been away,—not only what you have done, but what you have thought.”

She looked keenly at them and smiled. And they all hung their heads and blushed a little, for they were remembering the many times that they had been weak or forgetful or cowardly.

“But,” she went on, “knowing everything, dears, I still thank you, and praise you, for you have done very well,—much, much better than you know. And that,” she added, “is something for you to remember; we are always a little bit better than we think, and so when we are naughty, the best thing for us to do is to say to ourselves, ‘Dear me, I am not giving myself a chance! I am really good; why am I trying so hard to be bad?’”

And the children never forgot what she said. You will do well to remember it too.

“And now,” went on Mother Goose, with a delightfully mysterious smile, “I have planned a little surprise for you.”

“A surprise!” they all three repeated, wondering.

“Yes. I am sure that you do not want to go home without seeing again some of the friends that you have made here; and besides, I should like you to know some of my own particular friends,—whom you should have met long before, by the bye.”

“But, Mother Goose, who are they?” asked Bab.

“And how are we to meet them?” queried Meg.

“And where must we go?” sighed Dick, who was quite content to stay where he was for the present, after all his adventures.

Mother Goose smiled again. She quite beamed upon them through her gold-rimmed spectacles.

“They are all coming here,” she declared. “I’m giving a party for you, and every one in this part of the world is coming to it.”

“Oh, what fun!” they exclaimed, clapping their hands. “How dear of you, Mother Goose!”

“Who will be here?” asked inquisitive Bab.

“Well,” said Mother Goose, “I confess I am disappointed not to have the Piper family,—Jack and Jill, and Contrary Mary, and the rest. Some of my best songs have been written about them, and I am devoted to them all. But they are away just now, on a visit to a very remote part of the country,—Toyland, in fact,—and I have not been able to send for them in time to get them back. Then, the Man in the Moon and his pretty wife have sent regrets; they have some party on the Milky Way which they simply have to go to, so she says. And Hop O’ My Thumb is half a world away, and is having one of his seven-league boots mended, so he is uncertain about getting here in time; but he has promised to make a great effort to come at any cost. But even without these especially good friends of mine, there will be quite enough to make things merry. And I do love a party, even at my age!”

At the same moment Bizzybuzz called from the door that the owls were coming. Mother Goose went forward to meet them, and the children were soon greeting all their old friends,—Moon-Eyes and his wife, the Lady Gray-Wing, and the Owl Innkeeper, and several other owls whom they recognised as having been at the Owls’ Inn on the night of the storm; also the big white owl who had carried the little Witch of Silence to the foot of the Ladder of Light that led to the North Star.

Bab asked him when he expected the Witch home; but he merely blinked at her without answering, and she remembered that he never spoke.

Moon-Eyes and the Owl Innkeeper gave an exciting account of how they had chased the horse of the Red City man back to the city gates.

“It’s too bad to frighten the poor horse,” said Meg, “but I suppose that it had to be done.”

“Oh, the Red City horses are as bad as the Red City men,” said the Owl Innkeeper,—“which is saying a great deal more than I like to say about man or beast.”

“And anyway,” added Moon-Eyes, “we didn’t hurt the horse, of course. We just talked to him, and persuaded him that he would rather go home than chase you!”

“Yes!” laughed Dick. “I certainly should think he would rather go home with you after him as you were!”

Lady Gray-Wing had brought with her the Red Squirrel whom they had met at luncheon in her nest. He seemed delighted to see them, and begged them to postpone their departure from Make Believe Land, so that he could give them a real woodland party. He said that he had some friends among the Frog family, who were truly charming, and he would be _so_ glad to introduce them.

Next came Klang and Tinkle, the two Musical Goblins, and Green-Wings, the Dragon-Fly. And there were several Fairies from the magical Flower Meadow at the edge of Fairyland. The Sand Man, too, was there, and the Wooden Cow, who explained that all her plans had been changed by the invitation which had come to her from Mother Goose, and that she had put off her return to Santa Claus’s country simply to come to the party.

Most unexpected of all was the arrival of the Sea Kobold and Mudge, both dripping sea-water, but smiling amiably upon everyone. Mudge had a new set of scales, of which he seemed very proud, and the Sea Kobold had discovered that with the overthrow of the Wicked King his glass lid had melted away; so the ocean was as good as ever, and there was no longer any Sea of Glass.

Soon after this the strangers began to arrive, and such queer, delightful people as they all were! The children felt terribly ashamed of themselves not to know more about their histories, for they were evidently famous people, all of them, and it did seem dreadful to think that they might know all about them if only they had been willing to read a few fairy-books now and then!

There was one little old woman, with cloudy gray robes and a huge broomstick. When they asked, timidly, who she was, she answered with haughtiness: “I am the Old Woman who Sweeps the Cobwebs from the Sky! Everyone in the world knows me!”

Then there were two lovely ladies, with marvellous hair, who came together. One explained that she was the Fair One with Golden Locks; the other said that she was Rapunzel, on whose yellow hair a fairy Prince had climbed up to her tower window to rescue her. The Three Little Bears trotted in together, and Puss in Boots followed soon after; and the four joked together about bowls of porridge, until the three mortal children wished they knew what they meant. Wiggles made friends with them at once!

Snow White and Rose Red strolled in with Jack the Giant-Killer, and the other Jack who explained that he was famous for house-building. A drowsy-looking lady, leaning upon the arm of a very splendid Prince, announced herself as the Sleeping Beauty, and another charming person declared that her name was Cinderella, but that she was now happily married, and did not sit by the fire and weep any more!

“No, I’m the one who does that!” cried a voice just behind her. And a very pretty girl made her appearance. They all laughed, and began to sing:

“Cross Patch, draw the latch!
Sit by the fire and spin!”

“It’s all Mother’s fault,” declared Cross Patch, going to Mother Goose and kissing her lovingly. “No one would ever have dreamed of calling me Cross Patch if she hadn’t made up that silly song just to punish me for a fit of temper!”

Cross Patch turned out to be Mother Goose’s own daughter, and a very merry, sweet little person she was. Mother Goose herself laughed as she greeted her little girl.

“Never mind!” she said. “Her temper is ever so much better since!”

Still a third Jack made his appearance just then, carrying a piece of a bean-stalk, and he was soon followed by a lovely lady and a Prince who announced that they were Beauty and the Beast.

“He doesn’t look a bit like a beast,” cried Meg, watching them. Cross Patch laughed.

“He was only a beast until Beauty kissed him,” she said. “I really must admit that he was pretty bad up to that time!”

A little girl who wore her hair straight back from her forehead, carried a looking-glass, and was followed by a pack of live cards, came next.

“Alice!” exclaimed Mother Goose. “I am glad to see you! I was afraid you wouldn’t come, since you don’t belong to my kingdom properly. I have always wished that you were one of my very own girls!”

“Hello!” cried a voice outside. “I’m here, Mother Goose, but I had to hop all the way on one leg! That shoemaker would not send me back my left boot in time!”

In came Hop O’ My Thumb himself,—a very tiny person, but wearing one huge boot. They all laughed at him, but he was evidently very popular, and the children made up their minds to read all about him just as soon as they could possibly get home.

More and more Make Believe persons came, until it seemed beyond all things wonderful that they were all able to get into Mother Goose’s tiny cottage. But of course in Make Believe Land all things were possible, and as a matter of fact, in recognising that, our three children had learned their last and greatest lesson.

When all the guests had arrived, they had a country dance on the grass outside. The sun was setting, and the light was lovelier than any evening glow that poet or artist ever saw in the real world. The forest shadows mingled with the gold and crimson glory streaming in from the wonderful distant West, and the flowers in Mother Goose’s garden seemed to glow like little rainbow lamps, to light the feet of the dancers.

And such a funny dance as it was! Klang and Tinkle got out their queer little lutes, and some sad-eyed Necker appeared, and a host of sprites and elves of all kinds took their places as the musicians of the occasion. And when the dance began, there was the oddest assortment in the way of partners that you could imagine.

Bab danced with her old friend the Sand Man, Meg with Mudge,—dear little scaly Mudge!—and Dick with Cross Patch. Humpty Dumpty danced with Princess Star, of course, and Mother Goose with the Sea Kobold. Bizzybuzz had the Old Woman who Sweeps the Cobwebs from the Sky for a partner, Puss in Boots had the Sleeping Beauty, and the other Beauty danced with Hop O’ My Thumb. The Three Little Bears paired off respectively with Cinderella, Alice in Wonderland, and Lady Gray-Wing. Moon-Eyes and the Owl Innkeeper were allotted to Snow White and Rose Red. One of the three Jacks—the one who was accustomed to giant-killing—danced with the Wooden Cow, and the other two were very well content with Rapunzel and the Fair One with Golden Locks. The so-called “Beast” flirted gaily with the fairy with whom he danced, and the Dragon-Fly hummed cheerfully as he followed the measures of the dance with another merry elf. The Red Squirrel also danced with a fairy.

At last, as the sunset radiance faded, and the stars peered out far above, the music waned and died, and the guests, one by one and two by two, began to slip away, with a word of thanks to Mother Goose, and a kindly farewell to the three mortal children.

Those who were their own particular friends expressed a hope that they would all meet again some day; the others merely said that they were glad that they had met.

Off among the dim woodland spaces drifted the Make Believe folk, and Mother Goose and the children returned to the little cottage, lighted warmly yet softly by the flickering blaze from the fireplace.

XVIII

_At Last_