At last the procession struck the little path Sandy had pointed out to
the children, and in another moment it was being met and greeted by a
whole troop of Good Dreams who had rushed to welcome the returning
party and escort them back to the glade. Here they found the whole
family assembled: the Cook-that-liked-living-in-the-Country, the
Gardener-with-the-Generous-Disposition, the Pink Stockings, the Nice
Nurse, the Good Baby, the Easter Rabbit, the Birthday Cake, the Organ
Man, the Tall Candlesticks, and the Jolly Santa Claus--one and all of
the Good Dreams, with Noddy and Blink, the two fat boys, and--best of
all--old Sandy himself, a twinkle in his sleepy eyes, a grin on his
round good-humored face.
"Well, well, well," cried he. "Glad to see you back again, my
friends! Guess _you've_ had enough of the bad 'uns--eh, young man?"
And he gave Peter a kindly dig in the ribs. Peter grinned and looked
rather foolish but said nothing. "And now," went on Sandy, pushing
aside the excited dreams that crowded round him, "make way, all of
you! Let these young people see who's come to welcome them." He led
the children across the glade to where, throned on a pile of sacks,
sat the Corn-cob Queen! There she was in her greeny-yellowy gown, her
little head erect, her sweet face smiling, her tiny hands stretched
out to greet the children. They could have hugged her, but they didn't
dare, she looked, in spite of being just a doll and an old-fashioned
one at that, so truly like a Queen. Back of her majesty stood a group
of doll ladies-in-waiting dressed in their gayest clothes, and among
them were Ann's very own children, Marie-Louise and Angelina-Elfrida!
They did not look haughty or naughty or cross any more, but smiled
sweetly at their little mother.
"Yes," said the Queen, "I have come to welcome you back, dears, and to
say good-by, for I suppose you would like to go home to your Aunt Jane
now, wouldn't you?"
"Oh, yes, indeed, please your Majesty," cried Rudolf and Ann in one
breath--but Peter said nothing. He was gazing rather regretfully at
the False Hare who lounged near by, smoking his chocolate cigarette
and polishing the nap of his silk hat with the back of his paw. The
False Hare winked at Peter and edged a little closer to him. "Mighty
glad to see the last of you, old chap," he whispered. Then Peter
smiled all over, he was so pleased.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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