David Blaize and the Blue Door

So he walked back up the street, for there was a bright light coming out of the door of the bank, which looked cheerful, and besides he remembered that he had been sent to ask his Uncle Popacatapetl to tea, so that probably there would be tea ready.

‘It must be time for tea,’ he thought, ‘because it has been dark quite a long time, and I haven’t had it yet. Tea always comes soon after dark even on the shortest days.’

By the bank door were standing the two airmen, whose machines he had unbuttoned. They had got their caps on the side of their heads all right, but they didn’t look quite like ordinary airmen. The nose of one had grown enormously since David saw him last, and he waved it about, turning up the end of it in a manner that reminded David not of an airman at all, but of some quite different sort of creature. The other had a large kind face, and kept moving his mouth round and round, and out of his hair there distinctly stuck two horns, both broken.

As soon as they saw David they ran inside the bank, and shut the door in his face, leaving him out in the dark and the cold.

CHAPTER IV

David felt rather hurt at this, for having intended to ask them to tea, it was vexing to find that they didn’t intend to ask him. But before he could feel much hurt the window on the third floor was thrown open, and a giraffe looked out. It bent down to David, and whispered in his ear:

‘They’ll let you in soon. It’s a surprise.’

‘Is it a nice one?’ asked David.

‘That depends on whether you like it. But I’ll stay and talk to you till they’re ready. You begin.’

David didn’t know what sort of conversation giraffes liked, but he supposed that, like everybody else, they enjoyed talking about themselves.

‘How did you get up to the third floor?’ he asked. ‘I should have thought you were too tall to be able to go upstairs.’

‘I was,’ whispered the giraffe.

‘Then how did you get there?’ said David.

‘I didn’t. I’m on the ground floor all the time, and I can feel them running about among my legs. Only my head went upstairs in order to brush its hair. That’s another surprise; you never thought of that! But I didn’t see you jump when I told you. Shall I jump you?’

‘No. I think I’ll stop where I am,’ said David.

‘Very well. I’ll tell you another thing too. Some animals are so short that they have to go down to the cellar to tie their bootlaces. I should think you were one of that sort, aren’t you?’

‘Indeed I’m not,’ said David indignantly. ‘I’m tall enough to tie my bootlaces anywhere.’

The giraffe’s head gave a great jerk.

‘I jumped at that, you see,’ it said. ‘That was a real jumping surprise. I should never have guessed it.’

David looked up at the mild silly head above him. Certainly it looked surprised, but all giraffes did that.

‘I live on surprises,’ said the giraffe. ‘If I can’t get a proper supply of them my eyebrows come down.’

All the time it spoke it whispered into David’s ear, and tickled it.

‘Could you speak a little louder and a little farther off?’ he asked.

‘No, not possibly,’ said the giraffe. ‘My throat is so long, you see, that if I speak in the ordinary voice, it gets quite lost before it comes out of my mouth.’

David guessed this was another surprise, and remembered to jump.

‘That’s a good boy,’ said the giraffe approvingly. ‘Now I’ll tell you something else. I’ll dance with you when they’re ready.’

‘Oh, is it going to be a dance?’ asked David, who didn’t care about dancing.

‘Some of it is going to be a dance, and then the happy families give a concert, and then I should think there would be a battle. One never can tell for certain, but, with so many soldiers about, something of the sort is bound to happen. But the dance comes first, and I’ll be your partner.’

‘Oh, are you a lady?’ asked David.

‘I should think so. You never saw a gentleman like me, I’ll be bound.’

‘Yes, but then I never saw a lady like you either,’ said David.

‘Well, you see one now. I hope you can reverse well, otherwise we shall get terribly tangled up with the staircase. I feel like a corkscrew already.’

The door was suddenly thrown open, and David entered. The room seemed to have grown a good deal, and certainly when he talked to the Mint-man and the manager not long before, it hadn’t got a gallery at one end, and a large throne below it, as it had now. It was quite full of animals with either white ties or tiaras on, talking to each other about the weather. Up in the gallery were the Noah family, seated side by side at an immense piano, which they were all playing on simultaneously. All their heads were close together, for they had only one copy of music to play from, and they kept knocking off each other’s hats, and quarrelling as to when it was time to turn over the page. First of all Noah turned over, and Ham shouted out that he hadn’t got more than half-way down the page, and turned back again, and his mother said she had finished that page five minutes ago, and turned over two. Then they all grabbed at the book together, and tore the pages to bits with one hand while they went on playing with the other. Just as David came in, the book slipped down into the inside of the piano, and so they settled to go on playing by heart. As none of them knew how to read a single note of music, it made no difference whether there was any music there or not.

Below the gallery was the throne, all covered in chintz, and on the throne sat the elegant elephant. The legs of the giraffe were planted about the room, and the body of it went up through the staircase. The elephant still had the cap of the flying-corps on his head, so that David had no doubt that it was he who had been the pilot of one of the aeroplanes.

It seemed evident that the elephant was the host, and as David had been taught always to shake hands with his host when he went to a party, he sidled through the crowd of animals up to the throne.

‘How do you do?’ he said to the elephant.

‘I’m not doing anything at present,’ said the elephant, ‘but when I do, I shall do it very well. Who asked you to come?’

‘Nobody exactly,’ said David, feeling rather uncomfortable. ‘I – I understood I was to.’

‘Have you brought your card?’ asked the elephant.

David looked down and found he was in his sailor clothes again, and pulled a handful of cards out of his pocket.

‘Yes, I’ve got lots of them,’ he said, ‘and all yours too.’

‘Then introduce yourself,’ said the elephant.

‘I’m David Blaize,’ said David.

‘I knew that. Now introduce me, and there we are. In order to introduce me properly, you must say “Elegant Elephant” six times over without stopping, or squinting, or stuttering. Now begin.’

‘Elegant Elephant, Ephalent Egalent, Egaphent Elelant, Ephagant Legegant, Ephephant Ephegal, Egantel Ephantel,’ said David all in one breath.

There was an awful pause; the elephant’s mouth had dropped open, and he turned quite pale. All the Noahs stopped playing and leaned over the edge of the gallery, and several of their hats fell on to the floor. Then there came a dreadful silence, and you could have heard a pin-partridge drop.

‘Where did you learn to talk?’ asked the elephant in a faint voice.

‘I didn’t learn anywhere particular,’ said David. ‘It happened. But it’s dreadfully hard to say that six times. I don’t believe you could do it yourself.’

The elephant looked round in a frightened manner.

‘Change the subject,’ he said hurriedly. ‘Change the object, change places, change partners, change your money, change your socks, change the weather, change everything. But, whatever you do, change the subject.’