CHAPTER X

_THE RIDE WITH THE ALPHABET._

“IS it far to the Station?” asked Girlie, while they were walking along.

“Oh no, your Majesty, only just past the Crocodile’s lodge there,” replied the Wallypug, when they turned the corner.

“Oh, I know the Crocodile and I remember where we are, now,” said Girlie, when the Lodge came in sight. “I wonder whether that disagreeable Porter is still at the Station,” she thought; “and whatever _shall_ I do, if he remembers about the ticket?”

However, she decided not to worry about it till it was necessary, and hurried along with the Wallypug till they reached the Lodge, at one of the upper windows of which Girlie could see the three Seals. They flapped their fins at her, and one of them called out, “We are coming, too, by-and-by.”

The great iron gates leading into the Station yard were wide open, and the courtyard was crowded with all kinds of animals, each carrying either a little basket or a bag, which, Girlie concluded, must contain their luncheon.

The Husher was bustling about amongst them, calling out “Silence! silence!” but no one was paying the slightest attention to him.

Inside the Station, the doors of which were closed, Girlie could see through the window the Porter excitedly arguing with a very fat Rhinoceros in a uniform, who, Girlie decided, was the Station-master. She could not hear what they were saying, but the Porter seemed to be very angry about something or other and was gesticulating violently.

It turned out afterwards that they were quarrelling as to the meaning of 10 _a.m._, which was the time fixed for the train to start; the Station-master arguing that _a.m._ stood for _any morning_, and the Porter declaring that it meant _after meals_. While waiting for them to decide, Girlie, who had lost sight of the Wallypug in the crowd, saw the Crocodile standing a little way in front of her, looking very sad indeed.

“I wonder what’s the matter with him,” she thought, trying to get nearer to him. “How do you do, Mr. Crocodile?” she called out, when she had got within speaking distance.

The Crocodile started and turned around nervously. “Oh! how do you do?” he said, when he saw her. “Stop a minute and I’ll come over to you”; and, pushing his way through the crowd, he was soon by Girlie’s side.

“How is your tea getting on?” she asked, after they had shaken hands.

The Crocodile burst into tears. “Haven’t you heard?” he asked, sobbing.

“No,” said Girlie. “What’s the matter?”

The Crocodile shook his head sadly.” I had a dreadful accident with him on the day that I last saw you,” he said. “After I left you, I was wheeling him down the road, and had just got to the corner, when I stumbled against a stone and turned the perambulator right over.”

“Dear me!” exclaimed Girlie. “And what happened to your tea?”

“He was so _upset_, poor little thing! that he never got over it,” said the Crocodile, sobbing convulsively.

“Oh! don’t cry,” said Girlie. “It’s positively absurd to cry about a cup of tea, you know.”

“Is it?” said the Crocodile. “I’ve never thought about it in that light before; perhaps it is”; and he dried his eyes and began to smile. “Crocodiles,” he said, “are very easily moved to tears. Why, I remember a friend of mine, who lives in the River Nile, once telling me that just because a little black baby, whose mother left it alone on the bank near to where my friend lived, disappeared, he _wept bitterly_.”

“Where did the baby disappear to?” asked Girlie.

The Crocodile only winked and said in a curious way, “My friend said it was a _most delicious_ baby,” which didn’t help Girlie to understand in the least what he meant.

While she was still puzzling about it, the Porter came to the door and began ringing a great hand-bell, and every one hurried into the Station and down the steps on to the platform, where a train was waiting for them.

A great scrambling took place to secure seats, and Girlie was just comfortably settling herself in the same carriage with the Wallypug (who beckoned to her from one of the windows), and a family of five Hippopotami, when the Porter came to the door and, after glaring at her for a moment in silence, walked rapidly away.

“He means mischief, your Majesty,” said the Wallypug; “I can tell it by his eye. Here he comes again,” he continued, as the Porter returned, followed by the Station-master.

“There!” he cried, pointing to Girlie scornfully, “that’s it. The Crow says it’s a Pig, and the Doctor-in-law says it’s a Noun without a Case, and I’m bothered if I can tell _what_ it is. If it’s a Pig, it ought to go in the cattle-truck; and, if it’s the other thing, it ought to ride with the Alphabet.”

The Station-master scratched his head thoughtfully and looked much puzzled. “Let’s go and see whether there’s room in the Alphabet’s carriage for her,” he said after a pause; and they both walked off again.

“If you are going to ride with the Alphabet, your Majesty,” said the Wallypug hurriedly, when they had gone, “let me give you a little piece of advice. Sit perfectly still and don’t say a word and you will hear them talk. It’s most amusing, for, you see, they can only _do_ or _say_ such things as begin with the letter they represent. But you must be sure not to speak, or they will cease talking directly.”

Before he could say any more, the Porter returned, and, motioning Girlie to follow him, he showed her into another carriage, where she found the whole of the Alphabet sitting.

It was rather a squeeze to find a seat at all, but Girlie at last managed to settle herself in the corner against the window, and, as soon as she had done so, the Porter slammed the door to and, blowing his whistle, called out, “Right away”; and the train slowly steamed out of the Station.

Girlie determined to sit quite still, as the Wallypug had advised her, and, after a little while, this is what happened.

* * * * *

“She seems strangely silent,” said _S_, staring solemnly. “Supposing she’s stuffed!” she suggested stupidly.

“Ridiculous!” remarked _R_, rearranging railway rug.

“Probably pretending,” pouted _P_ petulantly (petulant people perpetually pout).

“Well, well! we’ll wait, won’t we?” whispered _W_.

“Cautious creature!” cried _C_ cheekily.

_T_ tittered.

“Suppose someone sings something,” suggested _S_ suddenly.

“Yes, you!” yelled _Y_.

“Bravo! bravo!” bawled _B_.

“Do, dear,” demanded _D_ delightedly.

_S_ smilingly started singing.

_G_ groaned.

“Somebody seems sad,” said _S_ sarcastically.

“What wonder!” whispered _W_.

“He hates hearing her howl,” hinted _H_, hastily hiding his head.

_L_ laughed loudly,

While _W_ winked warningly.

“Pray proceed,” pleaded _P_ persuasively.

“Certainly,” cried _C_.

So _S_ softly sang,—

“Sister Spider sat spinning some soft silken shreds; Sixteen silver strands Sister Spider soon sheds,— Sixteen spun securely, Sixteen spun so strong. She’s satisfied surely; So sing ‘Spider’s Song.’”

“Chorus! chorus!” cried _C_.

_S_ smilingly started,—

“Spin, spiders, spin; Sing, spiders, sing; Spinning spiders, singing spiders, Spinning spiders, sing.”

“Isn’t it idiotic?” interrupted _I_.

“Very,” vowed _V_.

“Ridiculous rubbish!” remarked _R_ rudely.

_S_ stopped singing. She seemed sadly surprised. “Some said she should sing, some said she shouldn’t”; she said sorrowfully, “Should she?”

“Certainly; continue,” cried _C_, clapping clamorously.

“Encore! encore!” echoed _E_ encouragingly.

_A_ also applauded.

_S_ seemed satisfied; so she smilingly started singing same song. Soon she sang slower, slower still; she stopped, sighing sleepily.

“Watch,” whispered _W_, winking wickedly.

_S_ soon slept, snoring sonorously. Suddenly she started, shrieking shrilly.

_H_ had hit her head hard, hurting her horribly.

_F_ flew frantically forward, fearfully frightened.

“Good gracious!” groaned _G_, greatly grieved.

“Camphor! castor-oil! chloroform!” cried _C_ confusedly.

_E_ energetically employed eau-de-Cologne.

_A_ afterwards advised arnica.

“What’s wanted?” wailed _W_. “Water?”

“An apology,” answered _A_ angrily.

“Immediately!” insisted _I_ indignantly.

“Directly!” demanded _D_.

_H_ hung his head. He “hoped he hadn’t hurt her.”

_S_ softly said something soothing, smiling sweetly.

“Delightful disposition,” declared _D_.

“Absolutely angelic,” agreed _A_ admiringly.

Presently _P_ proposed playing picquet.

“Food first,” faltered _F_, feeling fearfully faint.

“Refreshments required!” roared _R_ roughly.

“Ah! an admirable arrangement,” admitted _A_.

“Excellent,” echoed _E_ enthusiastically.

_S_ smilingly suggested something substantial; she said she should supply sandwiches.

“Ham,” _H_ hoped.

_N_ nodded.

_C_ considerately contributed currant cake.

_B_, blushing bashfully, brought Bath buns.

_G_ generously gave greengages.

_O_ offered oranges.

_T_ told them to take two.

_P_ presently produced preserved peaches,

While _W_ wanted wine, which

_V_ vigorously vetoed.

* * * * *

While this feast was still going on, the train, which had been simply flying along, suddenly stopped, and they all hurried out of the carriages and made the best of their way to the sea.