Chapter 8

As they raised their heads, they saw the oldest judge arise and point with his golden wand to the marble tablet. The characters of the music had disappeared, and the vellum on which they had been written was as white as snow. There was no need of any further decision. The judges descended from their chairs in profound silence, and the oldest and the youngest, each taking the Princess by the hand, led her up the steps to the throne, and seated her upon it. Then the Prime Minister took the crown from its velvet cushion, and placed it on her head, and, turning to the people, said in a voice which sounded in the stillness to all parts of the vast building, "Behold your Queen!"

Then, as one man, that great multitude gave such a sudden, wild, tremendous shout, that it took the roof right off the top of the house, and the wood that fell in every direction outside, was enough to keep the poor people in kindling-wood all winter.

The Giant, whirling his iron helmet around his head, now led off, with a thundering "Hip, hip, hurra!" in three cheers for the Queen. And three _such_ cheers!

The dense crowd outside took them up, and shook the very foundations of the city with their shouts; and the country people, and those at a great distance, heard the joyful sounds, and before many minutes the whole country, for miles around, reverberated with cheers for the new-made Queen.

As for the palace, it shook and trembled with the thunders of applause, still led by the Giant, who couldn't be stopped. The people about him were all struck deaf in the ear nearest him, but the ear-doctors cured them all for nothing, when they got outside, so full of charity was every one. At last, when every one, the Giant and all, were hoarse with shouting, the Prime Minister offered his hand to the Queen, and led her down from the throne. Then she motioned to the Prince to give her his arm; and at the head of the procession, he led her to the royal apartments, at the door of which he left her. The multitude then dispersed, and they spent the rest of that day in putting right the wrongs they had committed, and in making provision for future virtue. When the Queen had taken some refreshment, she put on an every-day crown, and repaired to the audience chamber to receive the visits of the various dignitaries of the kingdom, who came before her, and brought her their keys, and papers, and account-books. Giving each one back his keys, and ordering the papers and accounts to be deposited in a great pile on one side, where she might look over them at her leisure, she reappointed every man to the office he held before, and sent them away rejoicing. Then she called for writing materials and slaves, and commenced writing notes to the Prince. She would write one on gilded vellum, and, folding it, would hand it to the slave next to her, who dipped it in frankincense, and handed it to the next one, who sprinkled it with attar of roses, and passed it to the next, who ran with it as hard as ever he could to the Prince. For in that kingdom it was not considered proper for lovers to visit much.

This performance the Queen kept up all the afternoon, writing as fast as she could, and only stopping long enough to read the answers which the slaves brought her as they returned. At last, they came back, bringing with them her last notes unopened, saying that the Prince had gone to sleep. At which intelligence she shed some tears, but then, like a sensible Queen, had her supper, and went to bed.

The next day the marriage of the Queen and the Prince took place, and it was a glorious affair indeed. Twenty-four historians were appointed by the Crown to write the history of it; they were paid by the quarter, and it took them a long time, I can assure you.

The whole of the wedding-day, the festivities were kept up, and all the eating, and drinking, and merry-making, was at the royal expense. During the day and night everybody spent, and gave away to the poor, all the wealth they possessed, and in the morning it was all paid back to them by the royal Treasurer. In the country, the people feasted grandly on their own herds, and drank up their own wines, and they were also reimbursed by the Crown.

But the great feature of the royal marriage was the decree, proclaimed at noon of the wedding-day, that all persons married on that day should be set up in housekeeping, free of expense!

Never, in the history of that or any other kingdom, were priests kept so busy as those in this city. They worked as hard as they could, but at three o'clock they were obliged to commence marrying the folks by squads; and so, before suppertime, there was not a bachelor or maid in the whole city,--excepting an old bobstay spinner,--one of the crossest of old maids, who hated men so much that she had not spoken to one for forty years; and a crabbed bachelor, who despised women so completely that he never had his clothes washed, because it would have to be done by females.

At midnight, the priest Ali-bo-babem was called out of his bed, and found at the door, desiring to be married, the crabbed old bachelor and the cross old maid. These two did not live long, but all the rest of the people were very happy for many years.

About three o'clock of the morning after the great wedding-day, the Giant Tur-il-i-ra arrived at his castle gate. He had walked all the way home, and he felt in such a good humor that the road never seemed so short to him before. But, for some reason, he could not open the gate. There seemed to be an unusual number of locks and bolts, and the big key he carried did not seem to fit any of the numerous key-holes. He could easily reach over and undo the bolts, but the locks were too much for him; and, I am sorry to say, he got a little angry, and was about to take his club and smash his magnificent gate, when his wife, who had been sitting up for him, and had heard the noise he had been making, came down and let him in.

They went together into the great hall, and there Tur-il-i-ra sat down before the fire. His wife, who thought a great deal of the good Giant, was sorry to see that he was silent and rather grum.

"What makes you look so, my dear?" said she. "Did you not have a good time?"

"O yes," said he, "good enough,--but that gate put me out. I wonder what's the matter with it. It's got to be fixed. I won't be bothered and worried in this way."

"It shall all be made right in the morning," said his wife. "But are you sure you did not take anything that disagreed with you while you were away?"

"Perhaps I did," said he. "It might have been the mince-pies. They told me they were temperance pies, but I don't believe it."

"How many did you eat, my dear?" asked the good Giantess.

"Well, I don't know," said her husband. "About ten or eleven hundred, I suppose."

"That was too many for you," said his wife. "And I think you had better go to bed, and I will bring you something to make you feel better."

So the Giant went to bed, and as he slowly ascended the stairs, he winked to himself with his right eye. And his wife, she went into the kitchen, and winked to herself with her left eye.

After a while she came up to the Giant, and brought a barrel of hot chamomile tea; and when he had drank it all, she tucked him in, nice and warm, and the next morning he felt as well as ever.

TING-A-LING'S VISIT TO TUR-I-LI-RA.

One pleasant sunny day, the Giant Tur-il-i-ra was lying on his back on the grass, under some great trees, in a wood near the palace of the King.

His feet were high above the rest of his body, resting in the crotch of a great oak-tree, and he lay with his vest open and his hat off, idly sucking the pith from a young sapsago-tree that he had just broken off. Near him, on the top of a tall bulrush, sat the little fairy Ting-a-ling. They had been talking together for some time, and Tur-il-i-ra said, "Ting-a-ling, you must come and see me. You have never been to my castle except when you came for the good of somebody else. Come now for yours and mine, and stay at least a week. We will have a gay old time. Will you come?"

"I will," cried the little fairy, in a voice as clear as the chirp of a cricket. "I'll come whenever you say so."

"Let it be to-morrow, then," said the Giant. "Shall I fetch you?"

"O no," said Ting-a-ling; "I will come on my blue butterfly. You have no idea how fast he flies. I do believe he could go to your castle nearly as fast as you could yourself."

"All right," said Tur-il-i-ra, rising. "Come as you please, but be sure you come to stay."

Then the Giant got up, and he shook himself, and buttoned his vest, and put on his hat, and as he had thin boots on, he told Ting-a-ling he was going to see if he couldn't take the river at one jump. So, tightening his belt, and going back for a good run, he rushed to the river bank, and with a spring like the jerk of five mad elephants, he bounded across. But the opposite bank was not hard enough to resist the tremendous fall of so many tons of giant as came upon it when Tur-il-i-ra's feet touched its edge; and it gave way, and his feet went up and his back came down, and into the river, like a ship dropping out of the sky, went the mighty Giant. The splash was so great that the whole air, for a minute or two, was full of water and spray, and Ting-a-ling could see nothing at all. When things had become visible again, there was Tur-il-i-ra standing up to the middle of his thighs in the channel of the river, and brushing from his eyes and his nose the water that trickled from him like little brooks.

"Hel-l-o-o-o!" cried Ting-a-ling. "Are you hurt?"

"O no!" spluttered the Giant. "The water and the mud were soft enough, but I'm nearly blinded and choked."

"It's a good thing it isn't worse," cried the fairy. "If that river had not been so broad, you would have broken your neck when you came down."

"Good-by!" cried the Giant, stepping upon the bank; "I must hurry home as fast as I can." And so away he went over the hills at a run, and you may rest assured that he did not jump any more rivers that day.

The next morning early, Ting-a-ling mounted his blue butterfly, and over the fields he went almost as fast as a bird, for his was a butterfly of the desert, where they have to fly very far for anything to eat, and to race for it very often at that. Ting-a-ling took nothing with him but what he wore, but his "things" and his best clothes were to be sent after him on a beetle, which, though slow, was very strong, and could have carried, if he chose, everything that Ting-a-ling had. About sunset, the fairy and the butterfly, the latter very tired, arrived at the castle of Tur-il-i-ra, and there, at the great door, stood the Giant, expecting them, with his face beaming with hospitality and delight. He had had his slaves, for the whole afternoon, scattered along the road by which his visitor would come; and they were commanded to keep a sharp lookout for a blue butterfly, and pass the word to the castle when they saw it coming. So Tur-il-i-ra was all ready; and as he held out his finger, the butterfly was glad enough to fly up and light upon it. The good Giant took them both into the house, and the butterfly was put on a top-shelf, where there were some honey-jars, and if he didn't eat!

Supper was all ready, and Tur-il-i-ra sat down to the table on a chair which was bigger than some houses, while Ting-a-ling sat cross-legged on a napkin, opposite to him. The Giant had everything nice. There was a pair of roast oxen, besides a small boiled whale, and a great plate of fricasseed elks. As for vegetables, there were boat-loads of mashed potatoes, and turnips, and beans; and there was a pie which was as big as a small back-yard. The Giant had a splendid appetite, and before supper was over he had eaten up most of these things. As for little Ting-a-ling, he had only got half way through his third grain of boiled rice, when the Giant was done. But he could eat no more; and after scooping up about a drop of wine in a little cup he carried with him, he drank the health of Tur-il-i-ra, and then they went out on the front porch, where the Giant ordered his big pipe to be brought, and he had a smoke. When Tur-il-i-ra had finished his pipe, and Ting-a-ling had nearly sneezed himself to death, and the whole atmosphere, for about a mile around the castle, was foggy with smoke, they went in to bed.

Tur-il-i-ra took Ting-a-ling up-stairs, and showed him where he was to sleep; and then putting him down on the bed, he bade him good-night, and went out and shut the door after him.

Ting-a-ling stood in the middle of the bed and looked about him. It was as if he was in the midst of a great plain. The bed was a double one, that had belonged to the Giant's father and mother, and he had given it to Ting-a-ling because it was the best in the house. The little fairy was delighted with this bed, which was very smooth, and covered with a great white counterpane. He ran from one end to the other of it, and he turned heels-over-head, and walked on his hands, and amused himself in this way until he was thoroughly tired. Then he lay right down in the very middle, and went to sleep. I would like to have a picture of Ting-a-ling in the Giant's bed, but any one can draw it so easily for himself, that it is of no use to have it here. All that is necessary is to take a large sheet of white paper,--the largest you can get,--and in the centre of it make a small dot,--the smallest you can make,--and there you have the picture.

It must have been nearly morning when Ting-a-ling was awakened by a tremendous knocking at the front-door of the castle. The first thought he had was that perhaps there were his things! But he forgot that a very small, and probably tired-out fairy (for Parsley's younger brother was to come with the baggage), in charge of a beetle in the same condition, could hardly make such a thundering noise as that. But he jumped up and slid down on the floor, and as his room was a front one, he went to the window, and climbing up the curtains, got outside and looked down. There, in the moonlight, he saw an ordinary sized man on horseback, directing about a dozen black slaves, who had hold of a long rope, which they had tied to the knocker of Tur-il-i-ra's door. They were all pulling away at it as hard as they could (and a mighty pounding they made too), when the Giant put his head out of his window, and asked what all this noise meant.

"O good Tur-il-i-ra!" cried the man on the horse, "I have ridden for several days" (he said nothing about his slaves having run all the way) "to come to you, and tell you that the Kyrofatalapynx is loose."

"What!" cried Tur-il-i-ra, in a voice like the explosion of a powder magazine. "Loose!"

"Yes," said the man. "He's been loose for four days."

The Giant pulled in his head, and Ting-a-ling could hear him hurrying down-stairs to open the great door. The man came in and all the slaves, and as a good many of Tur-il-i-ra's people were up by this time, there was a great hubbub of voices in the lower hall; but though Ting-a-ling listened up by the banisters until the cold wind on the staircase had nearly frozen his little bare legs (which were not much longer than your finger-nail, and about as thick as a big darning-needle), he could make out nothing at all of the talk. So he went back to the bed, and got in under the edge of the counterpane, and lay there, with just his head sticking out, until he dropped asleep. At daybreak Tur-il-i-ra came into the room, and stooping over the bed, called to him to get up, as there was to be an early breakfast. As the Giant carried him down-stairs on his finger, he told the fairy that he was deeply grieved, but that he would be obliged to leave him for the rest of the day, on account of the Kyrofatalapynx having broken loose.

"But what is that?" asked Ting-a-ling.

"Why, don't you know? It is a--Look here, you fellows! Didn't I tell you that breakfast was to be all ready when I came down? What do you mean, you lazy rascals? Skip, now, and have everything ready this minute."

And the men skipped, and the cooks cooked, and the fires blazed, and the pots boiled and bubbled, and the Giant sat down in a great hurry, with the man who came on horseback sitting cross-legged on one side of the table, and Ting-a-ling on the other. So he forgot to finish his sentence about the Kyrofatalapynx. During the meal there was nothing but noise and confusion, and Ting-a-ling could not get in a word. The Giant had a dish of broiled sheep before him, and he was crunching them up as fast as he could, and talking, with his mouth full, to the man all the time; and the slaves and the servants were all eating and drinking, and running about, until there was no hearing one's own voice, unless it was a very big one. So, although Ting-a-ling was dying of curiosity to know what the Kyrofatalapynx was, he could not get an answer from any one.

As soon as the Giant was done eating, he jumped up, and shouted for his hat and his boots; and if the men did not run fast enough, he shouted at them all the louder. If Ting-a-ling had not stayed on the table, I don't know what would have become of him in the confusion. The Giant had now pushed off his slippers, and was waiting until the men should bring his boots; and as one lazy fellow was poking around, as if he was half asleep, Tur-il-i-ra was so irritated at his slowness that he slipped the toe of his stockinged foot under him, and gave him a tremendous send right out of the door, and he went flying over the trees at the bottom of the lawn, and over the barley-field on the other side of the ditch, and over the pasture, where the cows were kept, and over the pomegranate orchard, and over the palm-grove by the little lake, and over Hassan ab Kolyar's cottage, right smack down into the soft marsh, back of the sunflower garden; and he didn't get back to the castle until his master had been gone an hour. As the Giant sat on the edge of the table, pulling on his boots, he told Ting-a-ling that he must make himself as comfortable as possible until he came back, and that he would not be gone longer than he could possibly help. But although the fairy asked him again and again to tell him what the Kyrofatalapynx was, he never seemed to hear him, so busy was he, talking to everybody at once. Now Tur-il-i-ra was nearly ready to go, and Ting-a-ling was standing close to the fringe on his scarf, which lay over one end of the table.

"How I should like to go with him," said the little fairy, and he took hold of the fringe. "But he doesn't want me, or he would take me along. I would ask him, if he would only be quiet a minute"--

Just then up jumped the Giant; and as Ting-a-ling had not let go of the fringe, he was jerked up too. He held on bravely; and as he did not wish to swing about on the scarf, he climbed up to the Giant's shoulder, and took tight hold of his long hair. With the man and his slaves in a large round basket in one hand, and his great club in the other, away went Tur-il-i-ra, with strides longer than across the street, and he walked so fast, that Ting-a-ling had to hold on tight, to keep from being blown away.

About noon they came to a large palace, surrounded by smaller dwellings; and on the porch of the palace there stood a King and a Queen and three princesses, and they were all crying. On the steps, in the grounds and gardens, and everywhere, were the lords and ladies, and common people, and they were all crying too. When these disconsolate people saw the Giant approaching, they set up a great shout of joy, and rushed to meet him, calling out, "O, the Kyrofatalapynx has broken loose!"

Tur-il-i-ra went up to the palace, and sat down on the great portico, with his feet on the ground, and the people told him (all speaking at once, and not having even manners enough to let the King have the first say) that the Kyrofatalapynx had grown awfully strong and savage since the Giant had tied him up, and that he had at last broken loose, and was now ravaging the country. He had carried off ever so many camels, and horses, and sheep, and oxen, and had threatened to eat up every person in those parts, who was under age. But since he had found out that they had sent for Tur-il-i-ra, he had gone into the forest, and they knew not when he would come forth. Then up spoke a woodman above all the clamor, and he said he knew when he would come out, for he had been in the forest that morning, and had stumbled on the Kyrofatalapynx, which was so busy making something that he did not see him; and he heard him mutter to himself, over and over again, "When he comes, I'll rush out and finish him, and then I'll be head of them all."

"All right," cried Tur-il-i-ra. "I'll wait down there by the edge of the forest; and when he sees me, he can rush out, and then you will all soon know who will be finished."

So the Giant went over to the wood, and sat down and waited. After a while, he got very sleepy, and he thought he would take a little nap until the Kyrofatalapynx should come. In order that the people might wake him up in time, he tied a long rope to one of his ear-rings (his eyes had been a little weak in his youth), and everybody took hold of the end of the rope, and they promised to pull good and hard when they heard the trees crushing in the forest. So the Giant went to sleep, and the people all listened for the Kyrofatalapynx,--holding their breaths, and standing ready to jerk the rope when he should come.

Poor little Ting-a-ling was nearly consumed with curiosity. What _was_ the Kyrofatalapynx? He slipped down to the ground without being noticed by anybody; and, as they all seemed so intent listening and watching, he felt afraid to speak to any of them. Directly a happy thought struck him.

"I will go into the wood myself. Whatever the Kyfymytaly-gyby is, he won't be likely to see me, and I can run and tell Tur-il-i-ra where he is, before he comes out of the wood."

So away he went, and soon was deep in the darkness of the forest. But he could hear no noise, and saw nothing that appeared to have life. Even the very birds and insects seemed to have flown away. After wandering some distance, he suddenly met a fairy, a little bit of a fellow, but somewhat larger than himself, and entirely green. Ting-a-ling spoke to him, and told him what he was after.

"That isn't exactly his name," said the green fairy, politely, "but I know what you mean. If you come this way, I can show him to you."

So Ting-a-ling followed him, and presently they came to the edge of an opening in the middle of the forest; and there, sure enough, was the Kyrofatalapynx. With one of his great red tails coiled around an immense oak-tree, and the other around a huge rock, he sat with his elephantine legs gathered up under him, as if he were about to spring over the tree-tops. But he had no such idea. In his great hands, as big as travelling-trunks, he held a long iron bar, one end of which he was sharpening against a stone. By his side lay an immense bow, made of a tall young yew-tree, and the cord was a long and tough grape-vine. As he sat sharpening this great arrow, he grinned until his horrid teeth looked like a pale-fence around a little garden, and he muttered to himself as he worked away,--"Four hundred and nine more rubs, and I can send it twang through him; twang, twang, twang!"

"Isn't he horrid?" whispered Ting-a-ling.

"Yes, indeed," said the green fairy. "When he was young, he came out of the mouth of a volcano; and the King here, who is very fond of wonderful things, got Tur-il-i-ra to catch him, and chain him up for him in a great yard he had made for him. But now that he is grown up, no chains can hold him, and I expect he will kill the Giant with that great iron arrow, before he can come near him."

"O!" cried Ting-a-ling, "he mustn't do that. We must never let him do that!"