The Dancing Pearl was the name of a beautiful lady, and she danced every evening and Saturday afternoons in the palace of the Viceroy of Chow Chow. That is, she did until the Hermit of Hong carried her off by stealth one night to his cave in the mountains.
Now the Hermit of Hong hated crowds and conversation, but he adored music and dancing, and after he had stolen the Dancing Pearl he just used to sit and bang the cymbals while he smoked his water pipe and watched the Dancing Pearl dance until it made his eyes swim. And he never gave a thought to the way the Viceroy must feel at being deprived of his dancing girl. But if the Hermit did not dwell upon the matter, the Viceroy did, and the minute he found the Dancing Pearl was gone, he went to see the celebrated Mongolian wizard, Hoo Hoo, who had his office on the main street of Chow Chow.
But when he entered the wizard's office he was much disappointed to find that the wizard had just gotten married and that his wife would not let him take any case which had a lady in it.
"I'm awfully sorry," said the wizard to the Viceroy, "but as you are a married man yourself, you can easily understand my position."
"Of course, of course," replied the Viceroy, impatiently, "but that does not get me back my dancing girl, and I must have her back. There is no one like her. She is the poetry of motion and the soul of ecstasy. I'll give half my fortune to get her back."
"Well, in that case," said Hoo Hoo, "I'll have to take the job, for the half of your fortune added to mine will make me a very rich man. But I can only do the work by proxy—that is, my apprentice will have to do it under my direction—for I positively will not hurt my wife's feelings, not even for the half of your fortune."
Then he struck a gong and into the room walked a bright looking boy about eight years old with his pigtail neatly curled about his head.
Floo the wizard at work.
"This," said the wizard, "is my apprentice, Floo. I'll put him on the case."
"Not much," exclaimed the Viceroy. "Why, he is only a boy. You seem to think this affair of mine is mere child's play."
"Oh, no, I don't," said the wizard, "and if you think Floo is a child, you are very much mistaken. He has been taught his trade very, very carefully. Why, he can even tell how many hairs there are in your pigtail. Tell him, Floo."
And Floo, after examining the Viceroy's pigtail for a few moments, told him there were 3,672,491 hairs in it.
"There," said the wizard, proudly, "what do you think of that?"
"But," said the Viceroy, "how do I know he's right?"
"Well," responded the wizard, "how do you know he's wrong? Have you ever counted the hairs in your pigtail, eh?"
"N—o," said the Viceroy, slowly, "but—"
"Then," said the wizard, "the less said the better."
So Floo was picked out to solve the mystery of the disappearance of the Dancing Pearl, and the first thing the wizard did was to give him a list of people in Chow Chow that might have carried off the dancing girl.
"To save time," he said, "you'd better turn 'em all into turnips at once, and then tell 'em you'll turn 'em back again if they'll confess their crime."
But after Floo had turned all the people into turnips and told them he would turn them back if they confessed, he found that every one of them confessed without a moment's hesitation, which made things very confusing, for when you transform a thousand persons and each one says he stole a dancing girl when only one dancing girl was stolen, you do not know what to think. So the wizard told Floo he had better give up that line of investigation.
"Now," continued the wizard, "the next thing is to know what to do? What do you think?"
"Well," said Floo, "I believe it would be a good plan to pick out the person you think would never do such a thing as steal a dancing girl and go after him. And after you find him you'll probably find he did it. That is the way it always happens in the story books I've read."
"All right," said Hoo Hoo, "suppose we try it. But it's going to be a tough job, I'm afraid."
And indeed it was, for Floo and the wizard thought and thought until their heads ached trying to recall a person in Chow Chow who would not care to steal the Viceroy's dancing girl, but at last Floo gave a shout.
"I have it," he cried. "I know of one person nobody would ever suspect, and that is the Hermit of Hong. He hates everybody—ladies most of all—and the only thing he enjoys is being by himself. So if the story books are right he must be the one who carried off the Dancing Pearl. I think I'll go to see him."
"Go ahead, then," said the wizard. Then he handed Floo a book bound in leather. "Here," he said, "are a few simple instructions how to turn things into other things. I would suggest that you turn the Hermit into a lemon if you find it necessary. Good-by and good luck!"
So Floo set off for the Hermit's cave and when he got there he found, as you already know, that the Hermit of Hong had stolen the Dancing Pearl, and was enjoying himself immensely as he watched her whirl about.
He watched her whirl about
"Sir," demanded Floo, sternly, "what do you mean by such behavior? I thought you were a hermit. And besides, don't you know that the Dancing Pearl belongs to the Viceroy of Chow Chow?"
The Hermit of Hong laughed scornfully as he put down his cymbals and laid aside his pipe. "Belongs to the Viceroy of Chow Chow? You mean, did belong to the Viceroy of Chow Chow. She belongs to me now. And as for you, whoever you are, get out of my cave before I throw a toad at you." Then he clashed his cymbals again and the Dancing Pearl went on with her dancing.
Now you may think that Floo would have been discouraged to meet with such a reception, but such was not the case, for he had not been trained by the celebrated Mongolian wizard for nothing. No sir-ee, it took much more than that to discourage him. So all he did was to take out his book of instructions and look it over. Then he put some figures down on a piece of paper, after which he wiggled his fingers a moment and stamped his foot, and the Hermit of Hong was transformed into a large and very yellow looking lemon. And the moment that happened the Dancing Pearl stopped dancing and rushed up to Floo with a cry of joy.
"Oh," she panted, all out of breath from her late exertions. "I'm so glad you came. I'm completely worn out."
"I should think so," said Floo. "Have you been dancing ever since that old thing carried you off?"
"Yes," said the Dancing Pearl; "not even stopping for meals."
"Well," said Floo, "just you rest yourself and then we'll start back to the Viceroy's palace."
Then he told the Dancing Pearl who he was and why Hoo Hoo had sent him. "Of course," he continued, "the wizard will make much more money than I will out of this job, but I think I'll get my salary raised anyhow. And if I keep on being successful as I have been this time, I shouldn't be surprised if I made a big enough salary after awhile to get married. And if I ever get married I know who I'd like to marry."
And when he said that the Dancing Pearl hung her head and turned very pink. "Oh," she murmured, "I'm much too old for you. I'm almost twelve."
"What of it?" cried Floo, "I'm going on nine."
So the Dancing Pearl and the wizard's apprentice decided to get married as soon as Floo made enough money to support them, and they were so taken up with their planning that they quite forgot the Hermit of Hong who had been turned into a lemon. But if they had forgotten about the Hermit, the Hermit had not forgotten about himself, and the minute Floo turned him into a lemon he began to turn himself into something else. Of course what he would have liked to do best would have been to turn himself back into a hermit, but when you have been transformed into something, you cannot turn yourself back into what you were first unless you have attended a college of magic. And as luck would have it, the Hermit of Hong had never been to college, and what little magic he knew he had picked up himself. Therefore, the only thing he could do was to turn himself into something worse than what he was. And as long as he could not be the Hermit of Hong and have the Dancing Pearl dance for him, he decided he might as well get even by being transformed into something that would stand in the way of Floo having the Dancing Pearl, so he turned himself into a monstrous Grammarsaurus or ancient Iff, for he knew if anything could stand in the way of a person doing something he wanted to, an Iff could, because an Iff not only stood in the way but it had the most disconcerting eyes. Yes, indeed, its eyes made you so dizzy after you had gazed into them a moment you fell down in a heap, whereupon the Grammarsaurus devoured you eagerly. But if you did not look into the creature's eyes you were all right, for the Grammarsaurus could not eat anything unless it was perfectly still. You see he had to keep his eyes shut while he was eating, because if he looked at what he was eating it went around and around, and it is awfully hard to make a meal of anything that is going around and around.
But of course Floo and the Dancing Pearl knew nothing about ancient Iffs and their habits. All they knew was that they adored each other and wanted to get married, and when the Hermit turned himself from a lemon into an immense creature that half filled the cavern, you may be sure they were very much startled.
"Oh," cried the Dancing Pearl, as the Grammarsaurus gave a snort that made the cave tremble, "what's that?"
"What's what?" asked Floo, turning about. And then when he saw the ancient Iff you can well believe he said "oh" also.
"My gracious," he gasped, "how did that thing get in here? And—and where is the lemon I made out of the Hermit?"
"That," said the Grammarsaurus, icily, "is a mystery that I can easily solve. I am the hermit, likewise the lemon, and also something else beside as you may observe."
"I should say you were," said the Dancing Pearl. "I never saw such a monster."
And then as she looked into the creature's eyes she felt a slight dizziness coming over her and found herself swaying, but as she was a dancer and accustomed to whirling about, the feeling passed off in a moment and she was as well as ever.
"Huh!" said the ancient Iff disgustedly, "why don't you turn giddy and fall down in a heap so I can eat you? Everybody does that when they look into my eyes."
"Maybe they do," replied the Dancing Pearl, "but I don't. I'm too accustomed to whirling about to get dizzy so easy, so you'll have to make a meal of something else."
"All right," growled the monster, glaring at Floo, "then I'll eat your gentleman friend."
"Well, I guess not," said Floo. "I don't intend to look into your ugly old eyes, no sir-ee."
"Oh, don't you?" said the ancient Iff. "Indeed!" And with that he began to sing in a voice like a dozen bass drums:
In days of old when knights were bold
And dragons held their sway,
The knights all fought as warriors ought
To end the dragons' day.
And though the dragons spouted flame
The knights they whipped 'em just the same.
But in the days before the craze
For killing dragons flourished,
There were no tiffs with ancient Iffs
For Iffs were too well nourished.
And though some might ignore their size,
None could ignore their goo-goo eyes.
So have a care—likewise beware,
And look at me just so—
You have no chance! My flashing glance
Will follow where you go.
Gaze in my eyes—get busy,
And let yourself grow dizzy.
As the Grammarsaurus sang the last verse, Floo, to his horror, found himself looking into the monster's glaring eyes, and the minute he did that he began to feel giddier and giddier.
"Phew!" he cried, "I—I—I feel so wobbly I can hardly keep my feet."
"Ha, ha," chuckled the ancient Iff, "of course you do. And presently you'll feel even more wobbly, and then—"
He turned to the Dancing Pearl. "Here," he remarked, "is where I eat your gentleman friend as I said I would. I guess you wish now he hadn't tried to take you from me when I was a hermit, don't you?"
"Indeed I do not," retorted the Dancing Pearl, "for I am not going to let you eat my gentleman friend. Your eyes may make him dizzy but unless he falls in a heap you cannot eat him. And as I never get giddy I shall hold him up."
And with that she put her arm about Floo's neck and drew his arm about her waist, and though his legs were very, very unsteady she managed to keep him from falling while the Grammarsaurus walked about smacking his lips enviously.
"Now look here," he said to the Dancing Pearl, "you seem to forget this is a private matter between your gentleman friend and myself, and I cannot see why you mix in it, I really cannot."
"Well, maybe you can't," replied the Dancing Pearl, "but I can. So you might as well shoo yourself away."
Then because the ancient Iff's song had so enchanted Floo he could not even close his eyes but simply had to keep on looking at the monster, she threw her beautiful hand-embroidered handkerchief over his face, and presently the effect of the Grammarsaurus's stare passed away and Floo felt much better.
"Now," said the Dancing Pearl, "if I were you I'd look in my book of instructions and turn this nasty old thing into something less dangerous."
Floo groaned. "I can't," he replied. "This book only tells how to transform a person or a thing once. You see, Hoo Hoo did not think I would have to do it more than once."
"But," said the Dancing Pearl, "I don't see why you cannot transform this Grammarsaurus. You never transformed him before."
"Yes, I did," responded Floo. "I turned the Hermit into a lemon, and this monster is only a continuation of the lemon. In other words, the Hermit was first a lemon and now he's a Grammarsaurus, and the book doesn't tell how to transform him again."
Well, you may be sure this tickled the ancient Iff very much. As Floo and the Dancing Pearl conversed he had been listening with all his might, and when he heard Floo confess that he did not know how to transform the monster into anything else the ancient Iff gave a loud cheer and capered about gleefully.
"My, my," he exclaimed, "but I have got you two in a fix. I may not be able to make you so dizzy you'll fall down and I can eat you, but that is no reason why I cannot scrouge you so I'll be able to gobble you up after a while."
And with that he began to crowd them against the walls of the cave something awful. It was just like having a house trying to walk over you, and Floo and the Dancing Pearl had to step lively to keep out of the monster's way.
"If we can only get outside," panted Floo, "I believe I can fix him, for I've thought of a plan."
"All right," said the Dancing Pearl, "I'll run to the back of the cave and when he comes after me you run outside and before he can squash me I'll join you."
"But," said Floo, "are you quite sure you can do it?"
"Yes, indeed," replied the girl. "I'm as light as a feather on my feet. I haven't been a dancer for nothing."
And sure enough, when the Grammarsaurus, puffing and snorting, tried to scrouge her to nothing at the rear of the cave, she sprang swiftly aside, and in a moment was beside Floo outside the entrance. And then, just as the furious creature was galloping toward the door of the cavern to try to crush them outside, Floo, looking in his book, wiggled his fingers and repeated hastily:
Cave, bar the monster's rage—
Four, three, two, one.
Cave, turn into a cage—
Do, do it, doing, done.
Then he stamped his foot, and bing—instead of a rocky cave there stood before them a fine, big, iron cage, strong enough to hold anything, and inside of it was the Grammarsaurus.
"Oh," cried the Dancing Pearl, "what a delightful idea!"
"Yes," said Floo, "I just happened to think that even if I couldn't transform the Grammarsaurus there was no reason why I could not transform the cave. So I did."
"Yes," put in the Grammarsaurus, "I see you did." And after that he would not say another word, but sat and sat, and chewed his tail in vexation.
"Now," said Floo, "let's start for the Viceroy's palace."
So off they went, and when they got there the Viceroy of Chow Chow was beside himself with joy.
"Welcome, poetry of motion and soul of ecstasy!" he cried, swinging the Dancing Pearl high in the air.
And then when he learned how Floo had rescued her and how he wanted to marry her, the Viceroy said he had no objection whatever, provided Floo would let his wife dance at the palace whenever the Viceroy wanted her to. And as for the Grammarsaurus, he would be glad to buy the creature, cage and all, to put in the private zoo he had.
So the Grammarsaurus was brought to Chow Chow and placed on exhibition, and Floo and the Dancing Pearl lived happily ever afterwards on the generous sum that the Viceroy paid for him.
