“I’m glad you like it,” said Mr. Thimblefinger.
“Oh, hold on there!” protested Mr. Rabbit, “you are going too fast. I never said I liked it. I said it beat any story I ever heard, and so it does,—for length. I didn’t know that such a little chap could be so long-winded. It was such a long story that I’ve forgotten what the moral ought to be.”
“Why, I thought you said you didn’t believe much in stories that had morals tacked1 to them,” remarked Mrs. Meadows.
“No doubt I did,” replied Mr. Rabbit,—“No doubt I did. But this story was long enough to have a dozen morals cropping out in different places, like dog fennel in a cow pasture.”
“Well,” said Mr. Thimblefinger, “there was a moral or two in the story, but I didn’t call attention to them in the telling, and I’ll not dwell on them now.”
“I thought it was a tolerably fair story,” said Buster John, yet with a tone of doubt.
“Oh, I thought it was splendid all the way through,” said Sweetest Susan.
“There are some stories that are hard to tell,” suggested Mrs. Meadows. “They go in such a rambledy-wambledy way that it’s not easy to keep the track of them. I remember I once heard Chickamy Crany Crow trying to repeat a story that she heard the Looking-glass Children tell. I never found head nor tail to it, but I sat and listened almost without shutting my eyes.”
“What was the story?” asked Sweetest Susan.
In reply, Mrs. Meadows said she would call Chickamy Crany Crow, and ask her to tell it. As usual, Chickamy Crany Crow was off at play with Tickle-My-Toes. They both came when Mrs. Meadows called them, and Chickamy Crany Crow, after some persuasion3, began to tell the story.
“One day,” she said, brushing her hair behind her ears with her fingers, “I wanted to see the Looking-glass Children. Tickle-My-Toes was off playing by himself, and I was lonesome; so I went to the Looking-glass, whirled it around in its frame, and waited for the children to come out. But they didn’t come. I called them, but they made no answer. I went close to the Glass, and looked in. At first, I couldn’t see anything; but after a while I saw, away off in the Glass, one of the children,—the one they all say looks like me. I called her; but she was so far off in the Glass that she couldn’t hear me, and, as she had her face turned the other way, she couldn’t see me.
“After so long a time, she came up to the frame of the Glass, and then stepped out and sat down on the ground. I saw she had been crying.
“Says I, ‘Honey, what in the world is the matter?’ I always call her Honey when we are by ourselves.
“Says she, ‘There’s enough the matter. I’m e’en about scared to death, and I expect that all the other children in this Looking-glass are either captured, or killed, or scared to death.’
“Says I, ‘Why didn’t you holler for help?’
“Says she, ‘What good would that have done? You all could help us very well on dry land, out here, but how could you have helped us in the Looking-glass, when you can’t even get in at the door? I’ve seen you try to follow us, but you’ve always failed. You stop at the Glass, and you can’t get any farther.’
“Says I, ‘You are right about that; but if we outside folks can’t get in the Glass to play with you and keep you company, how can anybody or anything get in there to scare you and hurt you?’
“Says she, ‘The thing that scared us has been in there all the time. It was born in there, I reckon, but I’ve never seen it before; and I tell you right now I never want to see it again.’
“Says I, ‘What sort of a thing is it?’
“Says she in a whisper, ‘It’s the Woog!‘
“‘The what?’ says I.
“‘The Woog!‘ says she.
“Says I, ‘It’s new to me. I never heard of it before.’
“Says she, ‘To hear of it is as close as you want to get to it.’
“Why, I heard of the Woog in my younger days,” remarked Mr. Thimblefinger. “I thought the thing had gone out of fashion.”
“Don’t you believe a word of it,” said Chickamy Crany Crow. “It’s just as much in fashion now as ever it was, especially at certain seasons of the year. The little girl in the Looking-glass—I say little girl, though she’s about my size and shape—told me all about it; and as she lives in the same country with the Woog, she ought to know.”
“What did she say about it?” asked Buster John, who had a vague idea that he might some day be able to organize an expedition to go in search of the Woog.
“Well,” replied Chickamy Crany Crow, “she said this,—she said that she and the other children were sitting under the shade of a bazzle-bush in the Looking-glass, telling fairy stories. It had come her turn to tell a story, and she was trying to remember the one about the little girl who had a silk dress made out of a muscadine skin, when all of a sudden there was a roaring noise in the bushes near by. While they were shaking with fright, a most horrible monster came rushing out, and glared at them, growling4 all the while. It wore great green goggles5. Its hair stood out from its head on all sides, except in the bald place on top, and its ears stuck out as big as the wings of a buzzard.
“‘Do you know who I am?’ it growled6. ‘No, you don’t; but I’ll show you. I am the Woog. Do you hear that? The Woog! Don’t forget that. What did I hear you talking about just now? You were talking about fairies. Don’t say you weren’t, for I heard you.’
“‘Well,’ says one of the Looking-glass Children, ‘what harm is there in that?’
“‘Harm!’ screamed the Woog. ‘Do you want to defy me? I have caught and killed and crushed and smoked out all the fairies that ever lived on the earth, except a few that have hid themselves in this Looking-glass country. What harm, indeed!—a pretty question to ask me, when I’ve spent years and years trying to run down and smother7 out the whole fairy tribe.’
“The Looking-glass Children,” Chickamy Crany Crow continued, “told the Woog that they didn’t know there was any harm in the fairies themselves, or in talking about them. The Woog paid no attention to their apologies. He just stood and glared at them through his green goggles, gnashing his teeth and clenching8 his hands.
“Says the monster after awhile, ‘How dare any of you wish that you could see a fairy, or that you had a fairy godmother? What shall I do with you? I crushed a whole population of fairies between the lids of this book’ (he held up a big book, opened it, and clapped it together again so hard that it sounded like some one had fired off a gun), ‘and I’ve a great mind to smash every one of you good-for-nothing children the same way.’
“You may be sure that by this time the poor little Looking-glass Children were very much frightened, especially when they saw that the Woog was fixing to make an attack on them. He dropped his big book, and when the children saw him do this they broke and run: some went one way and some another. The last they saw of him, he was rushing through the bushes like a blind horse, threshing his arms about, and doing more damage to himself than to anybody else. But the children had a terrible scare, and if he hasn’t made way with some of them it’s not because he is too good to do it.”
“The poor dears!” exclaimed Mrs. Meadows sympathetically.
“Dat ar creetur can’t come out’n dat Lookin’-glass like de yuthers, kin2 he?” inquired Drusilla, moving about uneasily: “kaze ef he kin, I’m gwine ’way fum here. I dun seed so many quare doin’s an’ gwine’s on dat I’ll jump an’ holler ef anybody pints9 der finger at me.”
“Well, Tar-Baby,” replied Mr. Rabbit with some dignity, “he hasn’t never come out yet. That’s all that can be said in that line. He may come out, but if he does you’ll be in no danger at all. The Woog would never mistake you for a fairy, no matter whether he had his green goggles on or whether he had them off.”
“No matter ’bout dat,” remarked Drusilla. “I mayn’t look like no fairy, but I don’t want no Woog fer ter be cuttin’ up no capers10 ’roun’ me. I tell you dat, an’ I don’t charge nothin’ fer tellin’ it. Black folks don’t stan’ much chance wid dem what knows ’em, let ’lone dem ar Woog an’ things what don’t know ’em. Ef you all hear ’im comin’, des give de word, and I boun’ you’ll say ter yo’se’f dat Drusilla got wings. Now you min’ dat.”
“What does the Woog want to kill the fairies for?” asked Sweetest Susan. “He must be very mean and cruel.”
“He’s all of that, and more,” replied Mrs. Meadows. “The fairies please the children, and give them something beautiful to think about in the day and to dream about at night, and the Woog doesn’t like that. He hates the fairies because it pleases the children to hear about them, and he hates the children because they like to hear about the fairies.”
“Well, I never want to see him until I am big enough to tote a gun,” said Buster John. “After that, I don’t care how soon I meet him.”
“Now,” remarked Mr. Rabbit, turning to Mrs. Meadows with a solemn air, “didn’t you say that all this about the Woog was a tale, or something of that sort.”
“I believe I did,” replied Mrs. Meadows. “What about it?”
“Just this,” said Mr. Rabbit,—“a tale’s a tale, and it never stops until all is told.”
“If that’s the case, I’ve heard some here that overshot the mark,” remarked Mrs. Meadows.
“No doubt, no doubt,” responded Mr. Rabbit. “But what became of the Woog?”
“I know! I know!” cried Tickle-My-Toes, who had been listening to all that was said about the Woog.
“Very well; let’s hear about it,” suggested Mr. Rabbit.
“’Taint much,” said Tickle-My-Toes modestly. “The chap in the Looking-glass that looks like me, he was the one that fell into the hands or the claws of the Woog. He could have got away with the rest, but a piece of straw was caught between his toes, and it tickled11 him so that he laughed until he couldn’t run. He just fell on the ground and rolled over and over, laughing all the time. In this way the Woog caught up with him and grabbed him, and carried him away off in the woods in the Looking-glass country. They were away off in that part of the country where there was no green grass on the ground. There were no green leaves on the trees, no flowers blooming, and no birds singing.
“The Woog carried the little chap that looks like me to that dark place, and nearly scared him to death.
“‘You pretend to be something or somebody, do you?—you, a shadow in a glass,’ growled the Woog.
“‘I’m what I am,’ said the little chap.
“‘You are not,’ cried the Woog. ‘You are nothing. Why do you pretend to be somebody or something?’
“The little chap didn’t say anything in reply, because there was nothing to say. There’s no use in disputing when you can’t help yourself. So the Woog took him and tied him to a dead tree, leaving his big book lying near. There is no telling what would have happened to the little chap; but just as soon as the Woog got out of sight, a strong, tall man, with gray hair combed straight back over his head, suddenly made his appearance, and untied12 the cords, and set the little chap free.
“‘Don’t be frightened,’ said the tall man; ‘I am the Weeze. I have been hunting the Woog for many a long day, and now I think I’ll put an end to him.’
“Presently the Woog came back growling and grumbling13. When he looked up and saw the Weeze, it was too late for him to escape. But he turned and tried to run. Just then the Weeze seized the big book and threw it at the Woog. As it hit him, there was a big explosion, and the Woog and his big book both disappeared.
“The little chap that looks like me,” said Tickle-My-Toes, “was telling me about it to-day; and he said that it wasn’t long after the explosion before the flowers began to bloom in that place, and the birds to sing, and the leaves began to grow on the trees. And after awhile the fairies began to peep out from their hiding-places; and when the little chap came away he could see them playing Ring-Around-Rosy on the green grass.
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1
tacked
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| 用平头钉钉( tack的过去式和过去分词 )； 附加，增补； 帆船抢风行驶，用粗线脚缝 | |
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2
kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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3
persuasion
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| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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4
growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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5
goggles
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| n.护目镜 | |
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6
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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7
smother
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| vt./vi.使窒息；抑制；闷死；n.浓烟；窒息 | |
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8
clenching
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的现在分词 ) | |
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9
pints
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| n.品脱( pint的名词复数 )；一品脱啤酒 | |
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10
capers
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| n.开玩笑( caper的名词复数 )；刺山柑v.跳跃，雀跃( caper的第三人称单数 ) | |
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11
tickled
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| （使）发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
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12
untied
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| 松开，解开( untie的过去式和过去分词 )； 解除，使自由； 解决 | |
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13
grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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14
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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