Dot and Tot of Merryland

Just then they heard a shrill scream, and at once the woman rushed toward the house, running in a very comical manner because she was so short and fat.

"That's the voice of our youngest child, the baby," explained the man. "I fear some accident has happened to it. One of our greatest troubles is that we cannot depend upon our colored servants, who are chocolate. Chocolates can seldom be depended on, you know."

"I hope nothing serious has happened to your baby," said Dot, with ready sympathy.

"Probably not," answered the candy man. "But I hope you will now permit me to escort you to my house. You must be hungry; and I will have luncheon served at once."

"Thank you," said Dot.

So, led by their fat little host, who waddled as he walked in a way that made Tot laugh, they went to the house and were ushered into the front parlor.

The room was beautifully furnished; but the chairs, tables, pictures and ornaments were all composed of candy of some sort, and there was a fragrant odor of wintergreen, peppermint and rose about the room that made Tot's mouth water in delightful anticipation. The boy seated himself in a pretty pink and white chair, and Dot sat down upon a small sofa; but happening to remember the sofa was candy, she quickly arose and remained standing, although she was also a little afraid of the sticky floor, which seemed to be well powdered.

Soon the woman entered the room and, having welcomed them, she said, "Our colored nurse, Aunt Lowney, had left the baby, little Huyler, out in the sun, and before she noticed he was getting warm, his left hand had all melted away. That was what made him cry."

"Oh, that is terrible!" cried Dot, clasping her hands in horror at the sad accident. "What can you do for the poor child?"

"I have sent Aunt Lowney into the marshmallow field to get him some more fingers. We shall be able to patch him up all right, I think, so do not let it distress you. Accidents are always happening in our Valley. But I will order luncheon served at once, for you must be hungry after your journey."

She then left the room, but soon returned, followed by two serving maids, with complexions so dark brown in color that Dot was almost afraid of them.

"They are only chocolate, you know," whispered the man, "and quite harmless when taken in moderation."

Dot hardly understood what he meant, but felt more at ease after the explanation.

The maids brought many candy dishes to the table all filled with delicious bonbons and sugar-plums of every description. There were apples, pears, oranges and grapes, berries and peaches, rose-leaves and violets; but all were composed of candy and proved delightful eating. For drink they had pink lemonade, served in dainty candy cups.

"This pink lemonade," said the woman, "is one of the features of our Valley, through which it flows in a pretty stream. Sometimes we also drink the river water, but not often, for it is hardly sticky enough for our taste. Our luncheon is now ready, so please draw your chairs to the table."

Tot tried to rise then, but found he was stuck fast to his chair, owing to the heat of his body having warmed the candy. Finding he could not get up he began to cry, but Dot helped him, and by carefully pulling his clothes away, an inch at a time, she managed to get him loose. His clothes left a soft fuzz upon the seat and back of the chair, and to avoid further trouble, the candy man scattered powdered sugar over the chairs in which Dot and Tot sat at the table.

"I suppose it will powder your clothes somewhat," said he, "but they can be brushed clean before you leave the Valley."

The children enjoyed their novel luncheon. "It's the first time," whispered Dot to Tot, "I ever had all the candy I wanted to eat."

"Won't we get sick?" asked the boy, who was busily eating a delicious peach – rose candy outside and a soft, delicate cream within.

"I suppose so," answered Dot, truthfully, "but there's nothing else to eat, you see."

"Don't want nuthin' else," said Tot.

"Allegretti," called the woman to one of the brown maids, "bring a dish of those new cocoanut-kisses for our guests. Won't you have a few more maple caramels?" she asked, politely, turning to Dot.

"No, thank you," replied the child; "I've eaten so much already that I fear I shall be ill."

"Oh, nonsense!" returned the little man; "you cannot become ill eating this sort of candy, for it's the purest in all the world. But if you lived here always you would doubtless become as fat as we are, and probably you would lose all your teeth."

"We're not going to stay," answered Dot, in alarm. "We shall have to start in just a few minutes."

"But not until you have taken a short walk around our Valley," remonstrated the little man. "You may never come here again, you know, and it is a very sweet sight."

They agreed to join their kind host in a walk, and after the candy man had carefully dusted himself afresh with powdered sugar, they started out.

As they walked up the street, they noticed that many people came to the doors of the candy houses and looked at the strangers with great curiosity. These people seemed made of many different kinds of candy, but all were quite fat, and had their clothes painted upon them in bright colors, like the candy images that are sold in shops at Christmas time.

"Aren't the people here very brittle?" asked Dot, as they walked along.

"Yes, I may admit they are somewhat brittle," answered the man. "That is one of the drawbacks we suffer from being made of candy. Only two days ago, Mr. Gunther, a particular friend of mine, fell down a hill and was broken into seventeen different pieces."

"Dear me!" exclaimed Dot. "What did you do with him?"

"Oh, as he was ruined beyond repair, we divided him up among the neighbors who loved him best, and ate him the next morning for breakfast."

"Ate him!" cried the girl, who was greatly shocked.

"Certainly; Mr. Gunther was a very sweet man."

"But this is horrible," said Dot, with a shudder. "You are all cannibals!"

"Cannibals! What are those?" inquired the candy man.

"Why, people who eat each other," said Dot.

"Oh, then we are cannibals, sure enough," declared the little man, calmly.

"But cannibals are wicked creatures," said the child, aghast at such savagery.

"Is it wicked to eat candy in the country where you live?" demanded the man.

"No; but then people are not made of candy there."

"Well, here there is nothing else than candy; so if we eat at all we must eat candy. Is it wicked to eat in the country you came from?"

"No," replied Dot, who was beginning to be puzzled at all this.

"Then," said the little man, "you cannot consider us wicked for eating each other. Of course, we never eat anyone who is not broken; but when a man breaks himself into seventeen parts, it is considered quite a compliment to him for the neighbors who feast upon his pieces."

This did not seem quite right to Dot, but she did not know how to reply; and to add to her confusion, the candy man suddenly held up his left hand, which he had placed behind him as he talked, and showed her that his thumb and two of the fingers were missing.

"Why, what can have happened to them?" she asked, in real distress.

The candy man looked at his hand carefully, and then quickly turned and looked at Tot.

"There are marks of teeth on my hand," said he, "and no one in this Valley has teeth except you two children."

"Tot!" cried Dot; "did you bite off this gentleman's fingers?"

Tot hung his head.