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The following day he called upon Miss Mydas, who was reading a novel and eating chocolate creams as happily as if she had never been ill in her life.
“Where did you get the magic compound that cured me?” she asked.
“From a learned wizard,” said he; and then, thinking it would interest her, he told how he had made the glass dog for the wizard, and how it barked and kept everybody from bothering him.
“How delightful!” she said. “I’ve always wanted a glass dog that could bark.”
“But there is only one in the world,” he answered, “and it belongs to the wizard.”
“You must buy it for me,” said the lady.
“The wizard cares nothing for money,” replied the glass-blower.
“Then you must steal it for me,” she retorted. “I can never live happily another day unless I have a glass dog that can bark.”
The glass-blower was much distressed at this, but said he would see what he could do. For a man should always try to please his wife, and Miss Mydas has promised to marry him within a week.
On his way home he purchased a heavy sack, and when he passed the wizard’s door and the pink glass dog ran out to bark at him he threw the sack over the dog, tied the opening with a piece of twine, and carried him away to his own room.
The next day he sent the sack by a messenger boy to Miss Mydas, with his compliments, and later in the afternoon he called upon her in person, feeling quite sure he would be received with gratitude for stealing the dog she so greatly desired.
But when he came to the door and the butler opened it, what was his amazement to see the glass dog rush out and begin barking at him furiously.
“Call off your dog,” he shouted, in terror.
“I can’t, sir,” answered the butler. “My young lady has ordered the glass dog to bark whenever you call here. You’d better look out, sir,” he added, “for if it bites you, you may have glassophobia!”
This so frightened the poor glass-blower that he went away hurriedly. But he stopped at a drug store and put his last dime in the telephone box so he could talk to Miss Mydas without being bitten by the dog.
“Give me Pelf 6742!” he called.
“Hello! What is it?” said a voice.
“I want to speak with Miss Mydas,” said the glassblower.
Presently a sweet voice said: “This is Miss Mydas. What is it?”
“Why have you treated me so cruelly and set the glass dog on me[19 - set the glass dog on me – (разг.) натравили на меня стеклянного пса]?” asked the poor fellow.
“Well, to tell the truth,” said the lady, “I don’t like your looks. Your cheeks are pale and baggy, your hair is coarse and long, your eyes are small and red, your hands are big and rough, and you are bow-legged.”
“But I can’t help my looks!” pleaded the glassblower; “and you really promised to marry me.”
“If you were better-looking I’d keep my promise,” she returned. “But under the circumstances you are no fit mate for me, and unless you keep away from my mansion I shall set my glass dog on you!” Then she dropped the ’phone and would have nothing more to say.
The miserable glass-blower went home with a heart bursting with disappointment and began tying a rope to the bedpost by which to hang himself.
Some one knocked at the door, and, upon opening it, he saw the wizard.
“I’ve lost my dog,” he announced.
“Have you, indeed?[20 - Have you, indeed? – (разг.) Да неужели?]” replied the glass-blower tying a knot in the rope.
“Yes; some one has stolen him.”
“That’s too bad,” declared the glass-blower, indifferently.
“You must make me another,” said the wizard.
“But I cannot; I’ve thrown away my tools.”
“Then what shall I do?” asked the wizard.
“I do not know, unless you offer a reward for the dog.”
“But I have no money,” said the wizard.
“Offer some of your compounds, then,” suggested the glass-blower, who was making a noose in the rope for his head to go through.
“The only thing I can spare,” replied the wizard, thoughtfully, “is a Beauty Powder.”
“What!” cried the glass-blower, throwing down the rope, “have you really such a thing?”
“Yes, indeed. Whoever takes the powder will become the most beautiful person in the world.”
“If you will offer that as a reward,” said the glassblower, eagerly, “I’ll try to find the dog for you, for above everything else I long to be beautiful.”
“But I warn you the beauty will only be skin deep,” said the wizard.
“That’s all right,” replied the happy glass-blower; “when I lose my skin I shan’t care to remain beautiful.”
“Then tell me where to find my dog and you shall have the powder,” promised the wizard.
So the glass-blower went out and pretended to search, and by-and-by he returned and said:
“I’ve discovered the dog. You will find him in the mansion of Miss Mydas.”
The wizard went at once to see if this were true, and, sure enough, the glass dog ran out and began barking at him. Then the wizard spread out his hands and chanted a magic spell which sent the dog fast asleep, when he picked him up and carried him to his own room on the top floor of the tenement house.
Afterward he carried the Beauty Powder to the glassblower as a reward, and the fellow immediately swallowed it and became the most beautiful man in the world.
The next time he called upon Miss Mydas there was no dog to bark at him, and when the young lady saw him she fell in love with his beauty at once.
“If only you were a count or a prince,” she sighed, “I’d willingly marry you.”
“But I am a prince,” he answered; “the Prince of Dogblowers.”
“Ah!” said she; “then if you are willing to accept an allowance of four dollars a week I’ll order the wedding cards engraved.”
The man hesitated, but when he thought of the rope hanging from his bedpost he consented to the terms.
So they were married, and the bride was very jealous of her husband’s beauty and led him a dog’s life[21 - led him a dog’s life – (разг.) устроила ему собачью жизнь]. So he managed to get into debt and made her miserable in turn.
* * *
As for the glass dog, the wizard set him barking again by means of his wizardness and put him outside his door. I suppose he is there yet, and am rather sorry, for I should like to consult the wizard about the moral to this story.
The Queen of Quok
A king once died, as kings are apt to do, being as liable to shortness of breath[22 - shortness of breath – (уст.) кратковременность бытия] as other mortals.
It was high time this king abandoned his earth life, for he had lived in a sadly extravagant manner, and his subjects could spare him without the slightest inconvenience.
His father had left him a full treasury, both money and jewels being in abundance. But the foolish king just deceased had squandered every penny in riotous living. He had then taxed his subjects until most of them became paupers, and this money vanished in more riotous living. Next he sold all the grand old furniture in the palace; all the silver and gold plate and bric-à-brac; all the rich carpets and furnishings and even his own kingly wardrobe, reserving only a soiled and moth-eaten ermine robe to fold over his threadbare raiment. And he spent the money in further riotous living.
Don’t ask me to explain what riotous living is. I only know, from hearsay[23 - from hearsay – (разг.) по слухам], that it is an excellent way to get rid of money. And so this spendthrift king found it.
He now picked all the magnificent jewels from this kingly crown and from the round ball on the top of his scepter, and sold them and spent the money. Riotous living, of course. But at last he was at the end of his resources. He couldn’t sell the crown itself, because no one but the king had the right to wear it. Neither could he sell the royal palace, because only the king had the right to live there.
So, finally, he found himself reduced to a bare palace, containing only a big mahogany bedstead that he slept in, a small stool on which he sat to pull off his shoes and the moth-eaten ermine robe.
In this straight he was reduced to the necessity of borrowing an occasional dime from his chief counselor, with which to buy a ham sandwich. And the chief counselor hadn’t many dimes. One who counseled his king so foolishly was likely to ruin his own prospects as well.
So the king, having nothing more to live for, died suddenly and left a ten-year-old son to inherit the dismantled kingdom, the moth-eaten robe and the jewel-stripped crown.
No one envied the child, who had scarcely been thought of until he became king himself. Then he was recognized as a personage of some importance, and the politicians and hangers-on, headed by the chief counselor of the kingdom, held a meeting to determine what could be done for him.
These folk had helped the old king to live riotously while his money lasted, and now they were poor and too proud to work. So they tried to think of a plan that would bring more money into the little king’s treasury, where it would be handy for them to help themselves[24 - where it would be handy for them to help themselves – (разг.) где они смогут нагреть на них руки].
After the meeting was over the chief counselor came to the young king, who was playing peg-top in the courtyard, and said:
“Your majesty, we have thought of a way to restore your kingdom to its former power and magnificence.”
“All right,” replied his majesty, carelessly. “How will you do it?”
“By marrying you to a lady of great wealth,” replied the counselor.
“Marrying me!” cried the king. “Why, I am only ten years old!”
“I know; it is to be regretted. But your majesty will grow older, and the affairs of the kingdom demand that you marry a wife.”
“Can’t I marry a mother, instead?” asked the poor little king, who had lost his mother when a baby.
“Certainly not,” declared the counselor. “To marry a mother would be illegal; to marry a wife is right and proper.”
“Can’t you marry her yourself?” inquired his majesty, aiming his peg-top at the chief counselor’s toe, and laughing to see how he jumped to escape it.
“Let me explain,” said the other. “You haven’t a penny in the world, but you have a kingdom. There are many rich women who would be glad to give their wealth in exchange for a queen’s coronet – even if the king is but a child[25 - is but a child – (разг.) всего-навсего ребенок]. So we have decided to advertise that the one who bids the highest shall become the queen of Quok.”
“If I must marry at all,” said the king, after a moment’s thought, “I prefer to marry Nyana, the armorer’s daughter.”
“She is too poor,” replied the counselor.
“Her teeth are pearls, her eyes are amethysts, and her hair is gold,” declared the little king.
“True, your majesty. But consider that your wife’s wealth must be used. How would Nyana look after you have pulled her teeth of pearls, plucked out her amethyst eyes and shaved her golden head?”
The boy shuddered.
“Have your own way[26 - Have your own way – (разг.) Пусть будет по-вашему],” he said, despairingly. “Only let the lady be as dainty as possible and a good playfellow.”
“We shall do our best,” returned the chief counselor, and went away to advertise throughout the neighboring kingdoms for a wife for the boy king of Quok.
There were so many applicants for the privilege of marrying the little king that it was decided to put him up at auction, in order that the largest possible sum of money should be brought into the kingdom. So, on the day appointed, the ladies gathered at the palace from all the surrounding kingdoms – from Bilkon, Mulgravia, Junkum and even as far away as the republic of Macvelt.
The chief counselor came to the palace early in the morning and had the king’s face washed and his hair combed; and then he padded the inside of the crown with old newspapers to make it small enough to fit his majesty’s head. It was a sorry-looking crown, having many big and little holes in it where the jewels had once been; and it had been neglected and knocked around until it was quite battered and tarnished. Yet, as the counselor said, it was the king’s crown, and it was quite proper he should wear it on the solemn occasion of his auction.
Like all boys, be they kings or paupers, his majesty had torn and soiled his one suit of clothes, so that they were hardly presentable; and there was no money to buy new ones. Therefore the counselor wound the old ermine robe around the king and sat him upon the stool in the middle of the otherwise empty audience chamber.
And around him stood all the courtiers and politicians and hangers-on of the kingdom, consisting of such people as were too proud or lazy to work for a living. There was a great number of them, you may be sure, and they made an imposing appearance[27 - made an imposing appearance – (разг.) выглядели впечатляюще].
Then the doors of the audience chamber were thrown open, and the wealthy ladies who aspired to being queen of Quok came trooping in. The king looked them over with much anxiety, and decided they were each and all old enough to be his grandmother, and ugly enough to scare away the crows from the royal cornfields. After which he lost interest in them.
But the rich ladies never looked at the poor little king squatting upon his stool. They gathered at once about the chief counselor, who acted as auctioneer.
“How much am I offered for the coronet of the queen of Quok?” asked the counselor, in a loud voice.
“Where is the coronet?” inquired a fussy old lady who had just buried her ninth husband and was worth several millions.
“There isn’t any coronet at present,” explained the chief counselor, “but whoever bids highest will have the right to wear one, and she can then buy it.”
“Oh,” said the fussy old lady, “I see.” Then she added: “I’ll bid fourteen dollars.”
“Fourteen thousand dollars!” cried a sour-looking woman who was thin and tall and had wrinkles all over her skin – “like a frosted apple,” the king thought.
The bidding now became fast and furious, and the poverty-stricken courtiers brightened up as the sum began to mount into the millions.
“He’ll bring us a very pretty fortune, after all,” whispered one to his comrade, “and then we shall have the pleasure of helping him spend it.”
The king began to be anxious. All the women who looked at all kind-hearted or pleasant had stopped bidding for lack of money, and the slender old dame with the wrinkles seemed determined to get the coronet at any price, and with it the boy husband. This ancient creature finally became so excited that her wig got crosswise of her head[28 - her wig got crosswise of her head – (разг.) парик съехал у нее с головы] and her false teeth kept slipping out, which horrified the little king greatly; but she would not give up.
At last the chief counselor ended the auction by crying out:
“Sold to Mary Ann Brodjinsky de la Porkus for three million, nine hundred thousand, six hundred and twenty-four dollars and sixteen cents!” And the sour-looking old woman paid the money in cash and on the spot, which proves this is a fairy story.
The king was so disturbed at the thought that he must marry this hideous creature that he began to wail and weep; whereupon the woman boxed his ears soundly. But the counselor reproved her for punishing her future husband in public, saying:
“You are not married yet. Wait until to-morrow, after the wedding takes place. Then you can abuse him as much as you wish. But at present we prefer to have people think this is a love match.”
