Top o' the world; a once upon a time tale

Front matter

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Foreword

Oh, little ones, with your pink cheeks and shining eyes, come clamber on my knee, put your arms about my neck, and listen with all your ears while I tell you a tale of

ONCE UPON A TIME.

vii

Illustrations in Color

PAGE

Waiting for the Queen . Frontispiece^ She Could See Castles in the Coals . . 4

When One is Sailing a Flying Machine . 24

He Walked Deliberately into the Wall . 76

In the Cake of Ice . . . . .114

They Laughed and Laughed . . .190

Illustrations in Black and White

PAGB

Aunt Mary Wore Fluffy Dresses . . 5

Growly Voice Eats Snowballs . .11

Aunt Mary Gets a Sealskin Coat . . 12

Maida Crept out of Bed . . .16

The Letter 20

The Birds Came to the Rescue . . .28

The Wolf Swallows a Tablet of Climate . 36

Maida Meets Santa Claus . . -44

Out Popped Jack-in-the-Box ... 49

A Duel with Icicles . . . . • 71

The Walrus Mends the Street . . 76

“How Do You Do?" in Eskimo . . loi

The Explorer Turns on the Tropical

Climate 1 1 5

Maida was Carted away in a Box . . 139

Fido Flew 142

The Queen Sees Her Face . . . .145

The Gates of the Prison Flew Open . 161

X

Chapter I they have n’t She

The Wishing Post grows right out of the ground at the Top of the World. Some very wise men with bald heads and long white beards say it is n’t a Wishing Post at all, and call it the North Pole, but Maida knows more about it than they do for she has been there and really and truly went there in a flying ship, and I can’t begin to tell you all that she saw and all that she did, but I will try and remember as much as I can.

If you doubt my story ask Maida herself. She is a dear little girl, just nine, with curly brown hair and deep blue eyes, and she lives in a big house with papa and mama and Aunt Mary. If you want to find her go to Central Park and turn to the left. Maida’s house is the third from the corner. I don’t just remember the number, and I’ve forgotten the street, but as she nearly always wears a red dress and you know how she looks, you can easily find her.

All the trouble began because Maida was such a little girl. She was just big enough to know how little she was, and she did n’t like being a little girl at all. She wanted to be grown up. She told me so herself. She had reasons, too, oh so many. To begin with, there was ice-cream. Maida loved ICE-CREAM. She could never get enough. (Perhaps you can never get enough, so you know just how she felt.) And she could eat and eat and eat, and ICE-CREAM never hurt her. On this point she differed with papa and mama.

Once she awoke in the night with a most burning feeling right in her tummy, and had to drink all sorts of horrid medicine before she felt better. But she could not convince mama and papa it was the brown bread and baked beans she had eaten two days before. They insisted it was three plates of ice-cream for supper. Grown-ups are so silly sometimes.

Then there was bedtime. Maida hated to go off to bed as soon as supper was over and leave everyone else up having a good time. Just at dusk when the flames in the fireplace began to dance and glitter and flash — and she could see castles and trees and mountains in the coals — somebody with a white cap and apron would snatch her up and carry her off to a little pink and white room and plump her into a pink and white bed — when she was n’t a bit sleepy. Maida often meant to rebel at such treatment, but somehow when she cuddled up in the pink and white bed and finished yawning, she overlooked it, and the next thing — it would be morning.

Still this ruffled her dignity every time it happened — as if she were sleepy, and did n’t know it, and she realized — -just as you do — that it was because she was a little girl ; for grown-ups can stay awake as long as they like.

Then there were the clothes. Maida wore dresses which reached only to her knees, and plain little petticoats, while her shoes were so strong and tough — oh, you ’ll never

“She could see castles in the coals ”

believe what tough shoes they were unless you wear the same kind. It was almost impossible to kick holes in them. Then her hair was done in a braid and she had to wear a pinafore — oh, I can’t tell you how badly Maida felt about her clothes — especially when she looked at Aunt Mary. Aunt

Mary wore fluffy dresses all hangy and traily, and the sweetest slippers with great high heels, and her hair was puffed out all over her head — oh, it was simply beautiful.

And Aunt Mary read lovely books too, all about lords and ladies, while all of Maida’s books were about. Where is Peru ? and. How many is six times eight ? Poor Maida, she had so many troubles — but you understand, don’t you? So she wished and wished with all her heart that she were a really grown-up ; that she could read those lovely books and have her hair fuzzed all over her head — that she could wear those traily, hangy gowns, and stay up nights, and never, never, never have to eat anything but ICE-CREAM.

Chapter II

If you stand with one hand on the Wishing Post, and think hard of what you would like most in all the world, your wish comes true. Is n’t that lovely ? Sounds like a fairy tale, does n’t it ? But it is n’t a fairy tale at all, it ’s really true. Of course those old men with the goggles and the bald heads don’t believe it. If you ask them they will tell you the North Pole is just the end of the axis of the earth, whatever that may mean, and they will insist it is n’t a Wishing Post at all. Now, when they tell you this, here ’s a crusher for them. Ask them how they know. Ask them if they ’ve ever been there to see. Just see what they say to that. Maida has been there, and she knows all about it. To commence at the very beginning, this is how she came to make the trip.

One evening, Maida was lying on the hearth kicking her fat legs in the air and watching the Flame Folk when she heard somebody (you know which one I mean — the one with the white cap and apron) coming. Now of course Maida was n’t the least bit sleepy and she did not want to go to bed, so she slipped out of the door and down the long hall to the very end. Then she heard somebody talking — oh, such a fine voice somebody had, just like the growl of a bear — but a nice soft growl, mind you — and what the man with the growly voice said must have been ever so funny, for Aunt Mary laughed and laughed. So Maida peeked. There sat Aunt Mary in one of the traily, fluffy dresses, and her pretty neck and arms looked so pink and soft, and her eyes were so bright and her cheeks were so red, that Maida envied her clear to the tips of her toes. The Man with the Growly Voice sat oh very close to Aunt Mary, and he was smiling a little and holding Aunt Mary’s hand (Aunt Mary did not seem to mind a bit), then Maida heard him say — “ Name the day.”

So she went boldly in (because Aunt Mary knew it was some kind of a riddle or something and did n’t answer), and said to the Man with the Growly Voice, “How can anybody name days ? There are only seven and they’re already named — Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Then it begins all over again.” That must have been the answer to the joke, for Aunt Mary laughed, and the Man with the Growly Voice laughed, and the first thing Maida knew she was sitting on his knee, all comfy and happy. Well, the Man with the Growly Voice was an

Arctic Explorer — if you know what that means. If you don’t, I’ll tell you. It’s a man who wants to go away up North so far that his next step will start him South ; and he had just come back from the land where it is always Winter.

Somehow Maida found him the nicest grown-up she had ever met, he was so interested in everything she said, and somehow when she was cuddled against his big arm, with her nose nestled against his breast it was so easy to explain that she was tired — oh, so tired of being a little girl ; and tell him all her troubles.

He listened to every word and then he told her about the Wishing Post He had really seen it many, many times — he had made ever so many wishes and all but one had come true and he had great hopes of that He must have told Aunt Mary about the wish for she seemed so interested.

II

Then the Man with the Growly Voice told Maida lots and lots of other things, — not stories mind you, true tales. He had been so long in the cold North that he could only sleep in the refrigerator, and he had to eat icicles and snowballs all the time because he was used to them. Then he told her of the Eskimos ; funny little tame Indians who guard the North Pole, with great white bears, so no one can steal it.

and when he dined with them they gave him nothing to eat but ice-cream.

Think of it, all the little Eskimo children just eating ice-cream all day long. Maida decided she would be an Eskimo. Oh, the wonders he told her. How the seals swim in once a year with their cast-off skins and give them to the traders in return for charlotte russe and sugar-plums, and this was something Maida was glad to find out, for she never could understand how Aunt

Mary could get a sealskin coat without hurting the seal, so it was quite a relief to find the seals were glad to exchange them for charlotte russe and sugar-plums. But the most wonderful thing of all was the day the Man with the Growly Voice met Santa Claus, for he did really meet him face to face. It seems the Eskimos have Christmas on the Fourth of July, so Santa Claus drove about all day in his sledge with the six reindeer, giving away presents and taking the little Eskimo children for a ride. What a happy little girl Maida was that night, for somebody in a white cap and apron didn’t know where to find her, and there she was sitting up for once with the grown-ups and not a bit sleepy, not a bit.

She grew so intent on the wonders told her by the Man with the Growly Voice that now and then she would miss something he said. Then Aunt Mary would laugh as if Maida were drowsy, which of course she wasn’t Of all his tales the Wishing Post was the best If she could only go there and wish herself grown up, oh, would n’t that be splendid. So she made him promise to take her on his next voyage. She was so happy when he said he would, she shut her eyes to think about it, besides the light was very bright and — well, to this day Maida does n’t remember what else the Man with the Growly Voice told her that night

Chapter III

And then she found herself — in bed — was n’t that a shame. She had been so happy sitting on the knee of the Man with the Growly Voice, so interested in his stories, then that somebody (with the white cap and apron) had carried her off to bed. She couldn’t remember a thing about it, but of course that is the way it must have happened. Oh, if she could only find the Wishing Post, things like this would not happen, she’d see to that. What a wonderful thing it must be, this Wishing Post, and how she would love to see it — and — what a strange light was coming in the window. It was not morning, so it could not be sunlight, besides, sunlight is so bright.

And it wasn’t a bit like moonlight, either.

She grew very much interested, and sat up in bed to see. She was not at all afraid, for Maida was always a brave little girl, besides — comforting thought, if one did call out, why, somebody (with a white cap and apron) was just in the next room. What a strange light — all pale and green and shimmering. My, isn’t that a long word ! but it means the kind of light you see in dreams, and it seemed to come from under the window. Maida watched it as long as she could, but finally she crept out of bed, went to the window, and what do you think she saw outside — a really and truly flying machine. It was a long bag of cloth like a great big cigar, and underneath it was the dearest little wicker house something like a boat. She could see strange engines through the windows, and there were wings at the sides, and at the back a rudder. There was a steering wheel behind the wicker house, and beside it stood the Man with the Growly Voice. He looked up, saw her, smiled, and waved his hand.

“I’ve come to take you to the Wishing Post,” he said. Maida started to climb out of the window, but she thought better of it when the Man with the Growly Voice spoke again. “Don’t you think,” he said, “that you had better dress before we start? It will be rather chilly at the North Pole, with nothing on but a pink and white nightie.” How her fingers flew ! She found all her clothes nicely piled on a chair beside her bed, and she dressed quicker than she ever dressed before, or since. Luckily her pretty white fur coat Aunt Mary had given her was hanging in the closet, and the cap beside it. She put them on, and as the coat reached to her feet she felt very warm and comfy. You will never know how quietly she opened the door. You will never know how “creepy” she stole down the stair. But just as she opened the big front door she happened to think of mama and papa and Aunt Mary.

She thought they might be worried, so she sat down to write them a note. Maida could write very well for such a little girl, although her T’s and her F’s would persist in looking alike, or worse still, when she meant to make a W an M would hop into its place. Well, this note was the best thing she had ever written. She had no idea she could write so rapidly. All the letters made themselves properly and somehow got into the right place. Altogether, it was a splendid letter. As nearly as I remember, it ran something like this:

“ Dear Mama, and Papa, and Aunt Mary:

‘T was afraid you might be worried when you found me gone, and I was afraid to tell you because you might not let me go. I ’ll be back in a day or two. I ’ve only gone with a gentleman to find the North Pole and wish to be grown up. With dearest love,

“Maida.”

She knew that when they got her note they would n’t be worried at all. Then she went out and closed the big front door behind her. The Man with the Growly Voice was waiting and he lifted her into the little wicker house. “This is your room,” he said, showing her into a little cabin, and it was just lovely; all cuddly and comfy and bright. The little brass bed shone and shone; the pretty mirror reflected her happy face. The lights danced and flickered — ah, in every way it was just exactly like what a room in a flying ship should be.

Then she noticed they were going up — they passed the roof, then the chimney, then the church steeple next door. The house grew smaller and smaller until she couldn’t tell it from the houses beside it. They floated over the Park and Maida could see the lights of the city underneath her — and — then over the river with the boats going out and coming in.

And she did n’t feel at all strange or in the least frightened. It all seemed perfectly natural and usual. A dreadful doubt assailed her. Suppose she were not awake. Suppose she was asleep and dreaming. “Excuse me,” she said timidly to the Man with the Growly Voice, “but will you please tell me your name?” “My name,” he growled in reply, “is Morse.” “Well then Mr. Morse,” she said, “tell me, please.

honest to goodness cross your heart — am I awake?” And the Man with the Growly Voice crossed his heart and said, “Yes,” So that was settled, for of course he would n’t tell a story and say she was awake if she were asleep. Oh, what a happy little Maida, drifting — drifting far above the clouds, no more lessons or oatmeal porridge, or short frocks. Never again. Never would she have to go to bed at twilight. Traily, fluffy dresses and sit up nights and ice-cream — oh, lots and lots of ice-cream, for she was going to the Wishing Post and she would never come back till she had grown up.

Chapter IV

They flew and flew and flew. Maida could look out of her window and see the lights in houses far beneath. By and by the sky turned gray, little streaks of silver began to appear and the stars overhead grew pale. The streaks of silver turned to pink, to crimson, and then a huge red ball of fire seemed to shoot up out of the sea and hang in the East. “What is it?” asked Maida. She was quite surprised when the Man with the Growly Voice told her it was the sun. She had never seen the sun look like that — for never before had she been awake at sunrise. Over great lakes they sailed, and over forests of pines and ranges of high mountains, but there were no more cities and towns, only tents with Indians standing about them. And all the time the Man with the Growly Voice stood beside the wheel, steering the airship and looking straight ahead ; you know how careful papa has to be when he takes you out in his auto car ? Well — it ’s just like that when one is sailing a flying machine, only it ’s harder because an auto can only turn to the right or left, and if anything happens to the sparking plug or the jibboom, why papa can take the monkey-wrench and the hammer and the saw and the screw-driver and crawl under the auto to fix it. Then when he finds he ’s only made it worse he can get a horse to haul you home again.

But a flying machine can turn to the right and to the left. Besides that, it can go up or down or sideways or turn over over and over, and my goodness, when anything happens to the sparking plug or the

“When one is sailing a flying machine”

jibboom of a flying machine you don’t have time to crawl under and fix it, for it falls and falls — and — oh, it’s “shuddery” to think of such a thing.

Well — Maida knew the Man with the Growly Voice must be tired, and besides it was breakfast time, so she asked him to let her sit by the wheel and steer the flying machine a while : — then he could rest and get breakfast, and of course he did. She was a very proud little girl as she sat there guiding the airship through the air, and before long she began to play a bit.

It was great sport to make a long dip downward and just miss the top of a mountain. It was quite a joke to glide along behind an eagle and take him by surprise and watch him flap his wings madly to get out of the way, as she hooted the horn, “hoot, hoot.” Did I tell you that all flying ships have horns, just like automobiles? Well they do, to warn the birds and frighten the shooting stars away. Oh, she was having a lovely time.

Then the Man with the Growly Voice appeared in the door with a look of dismay on his face. “I was in such a hurry to get away,” he said, “that I forgot to bring a single thing to eat. Is n’t that just like an Arctic Explorer? You see we ’re so anxious to explore we forget all about such things as food and clothes and fuel.”

“Maybe we could borrow some ice-cream from one of the little Eskimo children,” faltered Maida timidly and she became so intent on thinking about the breakfast she could n’t have, that before she knew what she was doing she ran slap-bang into a comet. Of course the comet had no business there, and it was just as much surprised as Maida for it shouted and shouted, but before they could stop they were right in the midst of the tail. The man with the growly voice sprang to the bow. “Splice the bowsprit,” he roared. “Shiver the mainsail ” — “ lufT-luff.” “ Please sir, I don’t know how to luff-luff,” quavered Maida. Alas, it was no use. The comet switched its tail ; because it does tickle a comet when a flying ship gets tangled up in its tail — and one of the wings fell off the side of the ship. Then they began to go down, down, down.

Did you ever fall out of bed in the night, when you were half asleep? Well it felt just like that, only a million times worse. Down, down, down. “ Oh, have n’t you got a life-preserver or something,” sobbed Maida. But the Man with the Growly Voice did n’t answer, he only stood and said things like — ^well, like Uncle George says when he tries to drive a nail and hits his thumb. Which was very naughty of him. Then just when Maida had given up in despair and was so frightened her heart had

The Birds Came to the Rescue stopped beating — just when she was saying Now — for an awful bump,” a wonderful thing happened. Two of the very birds she had been teasing flew up, one seized the

Man with the Growly Voice by the collar and the other seized Maida, then they flew gently with them down to the ground — and there was n’t any bump at all. Then they all sat and looked at each other.

Chapter V

“ Do you know,” said Maida, “I believe the birds are laughing at us?”

Well, it really looked as though they were. Both of them sat staring first at Maida, then at the Explorer; now and then flapping their wings and making a sort of noise like — just like — did you ever slip on the ice and sit down hard when you weren’t expecting to do anything of the sort, and then did you hear someone across the street or in the next house giggle about it? Well, perhaps Maida only imagined it, but that is exactly the kind of noise those two birds were making. After a while they rose in the air, slowly flapping their big wings — flew about the wreck of the airship a few times, just to show how much better real wings are than made wings, then they disappeared in the distance. Maida was getting cold.

“As long as you ’re an Explorer,” she said, “don’t you think you had better explore something? Where are we?”

“Why, here,” said the man with the growly voice, “just here.” If we were n’t here, you know, we’d be somewhere else.”

“Oh, I see,” replied Maida doubtfully, “and do you mind telling me where here'' is? Because I’ve an idea it isn’t anywhere.”

“I suppose you ’ve studied geography,” said the man with the growly voice. “Oh, no,” Maida pouted, “I hate it.” “Too bad,” he answered. “If you had studied geography, you’d know exactly where we are.” “Haven’t you studied it?” asked Maida. “Let ’s change the subject,” was his reply. Maida began to shiver.

The Explorer took from his pocket a small tablet wrapped in tissue paper, which looked very much like a piece of candy. He took the paper off and threw the tablet on the ground, just as you pop torpedoes on the Fourth of July. In an instant all the ice and snow began to melt Grass began to grow. Maida could feel it under her feet — pushing to come up, it was growing so fast Some little flowers suddenly peeped from the turf There was no fire, no smoke, but everything was warm and sweet, just like a Spring day.

“My goodness ! What did you do?” said Maida, as she stopped shivering. “What was that?” she continued. “It would be lovely when the janitor doesn’t turn on the steam.”

“That,” said the Explorer, “is a tablet of condensed climate. I gathered it in Mexico. Down there they have very warm weather, very warm indeed, so I simply condensed the heat into these little tablets; and that reminds me, I Ve a tin can full of it on the airship. I ’d better get it as I think we ’ll need it. The tablets are not very strong. One of them will only heat up a city for a year or so, but I Ve enough in the can to turn Greenland into Africa.” So he strapped the can of condensed climate on his back.

At this moment they saw someone coming toward them through the high grass. As the stranger drew near Maida noticed that he was a very handsome young man with wonderful broad shoulders and long curly hair. He did not appear to see them but walked steadily on with his eyes fastened on the horizon, and would have passed them but Maida stopped him and asked him who he was and where he was going.

“I am a disconsolate lover,” he replied, ‘‘and I seek one in the far North.”

“Tell me all about it,” said Mai da eagerly, for she loved romance.

“You’ll laugh at me, I know,” he answered, “but I must tell someone, for my heart is full of it. One night I seemed to float away to a beautiful land all pure and white and in this strange place was a lady, tall and slender with cheeks like snowdrops and eyes like stars. Ah, she was so fair and white. She beckoned and I drew near. She smiled and I awoke, but I can not forget. Always in my dreams I see her smiling, beckoning. I have sought her through the North. I will never rest until I find her.”

“Do you think,” inquired Maida anxiously, “ that you will find her soon ? ” “ Oh

yes,” he replied, “I am sure of it. I must find her soon,” and he strode away with his eyes fixed on the horizon.

“I’ve a splendid idea,” said Maida, “if he ’s going to find the lady soon, let us follow him. Perhaps she ’ll be able to tell us where we can get breakfast”

“Now that is really a splendid idea,” said the Man with the Growly Voice, “and we will.” So they did. But before long they began to find it cold again (the tablet of climate was such a little one). They began to find ice and snow in places. Bye and bye Maida heard something behind her and turned around, and there was a wolf. Oh, such an awful creature. What do you think Maida did? What would you do? Scream ? Well, that ’s what she did.

“He’ll eat us!” she wailed. “Oh, have n’t you a gun or something to shoot him?”

The man with the growly voice took another tablet of climate from his pocket and just as the wolf rushed at. them with wide open jaws, he tossed the tablet in its mouth. My, what a surprise for that wolf! He thought he was going to have a nice little girl for breakfast, and presto ! he had swal-

The Wolf Swallows a Tablet of Climate lowed three or four days of awfully hot weather. He rolled and yelped and jumped about — well, if you want to know just exactly how he behaved, borrow a tablet of climate from the Explorer; go up there where Maida was, and give it to the first wolf that comes along. Then you ’ll see.