One sunny afternoon, while I was wandering through the magical chocolate forest, I noticed something strange. The chocolate river that flowed through our valley was much lower than usual. Strange, I thought. I tiptoed to the bank and looked at the little chocolate people, not far off in the dewdrop-house, hurrying to and fro, and I could hear them murmuring to one another:
“Oh, dear! Oh, dear! If this goes on, we shall have no water left at all!”
And I could hear the wind whispering too:
“Little drops of water make the mighty ocean.”
Then, looking on both sides, without stopping to think of my own little feet, I ran off along the bank to find the place where the little people got the chocolate water from. But it was awful going. I tried to jump over a great crack in the bank. But it was so wide and so deep, that I slipped in over my head, and very nearly drowned. And if I hadn’t sent my little feet down, and my hands at the same time, to stop the further mischief, I should have been knocked into the middle of different people.
But I scrambled up the bank after a time, and pretended I hadn’t mind falling in—as you always do, you know, when you are with other children.
And off I went again. Then I came to a place where lots and lots of trees were growing close together, where they had dropped their melted chocolate into the river until it became so thick, the swans left off swimming there. And I found it very hard work, for sometimes up to my knees, and sometimes close to my waist, I had to walk in the chocolate itself, and that was almost worse than failing into the river … almost!
I lay down and looked up into the trees. All the ants and bees and wasps and butterflies said—
“Oh, dear! Oh, dear! If it goes on like this, we shall have to break through the bank to find our homes!”
But the bees and wasps stood still, and only climbed up the flowers to have all the honey they could cuddle up in. Then the little birds came hopping and skipping to speak to me, and they said—
“Oh, dear! Oh, dear! This won’t do at all; all our flowers are wilting away. If it goes on like this, the whole world will melt away, and we shall have no nests left in the trees!”
And I just gave my little head a shake, for when you know that the world is going away, you can’t shake your legs; that’s a rule in some countries.
And it was so sorrowful listening to them all, one after the other, that I mustered up all my little wits, which I had left, and I sat down and began to think how to find out what made all the people, and birds, and bees, and butterflies, feel so sad.
And at last I came to the right way, and said quite out loud, so that all could hear me, that I would try to be of use if they told about me. And the next moment down came all the sweetmeats from candy-land, and ran to say what a nice little girl I must be not to be ashamed of her new friend, Rose-jelly.
“I have been Lady-mayoress a long time, and we have always had something nice in this place, so that no one might have to go under the chocolate at all—but it’s too much for us to do, and now it’s running away too!”
And then all the little people squeezed themselves so tiny that I could slip my wrist through their hands, and giddily together we all went back to the factory where all things sweet are mixed. And I couldn’t find out the way to do what I had to do unless I ran all the way home in my head to get a nice big punching-bag, and hoping that none of the little chocolate babies would have their houses capsized by the joltings of the way.
But we came to our journey’s end in the end, I believe! And to tell the truth, I never get as quickly through any other sort of water as chocolate, because you can use the arms and legs, like swimming, if you know how; and I don’t forget to say to myself: “Patience! Patience! You’ll soon be there,”
then. Now, my little voyage quite done, I went upstairs to wait for when my legs were dry enough to walk straight up on them.
I was just going to put my hand out and twist the handle of the door, but I thought it wouldn’t be polite when I had so many of the little people with me; so I said, “Please, sir”—to the handle I’m sure it must have been my little heads-maid, I said—“Please, sir! Open the door!”
And so they did; and so of course I went in.
And when they were walking two and two, like we do at church, I stepped quite into the middle of the room, for where do you think I was? Strictly speaking I should only have been the foot of the bed; but the end which has the tester to it I call the bed; and what was the rest of it, if you please, the two posts stuck into the floor, to hold it up.
They began to say the longest ditty for cramming the eye steadily, and I’d so soon stop what was read aloud!
But it was of no use: they squeezed before and behind me, something and everything crumbling, until I could not keep my comforter in. So I gave one great crack with my head, and up they all went to the ceiling, nearly all at once, like the spinning-tops going mad, leaving the rotten end of the bed just on the floor, sticking up high into the middle of the room. And when they went up to the rafters, my letter slipped out of my hand, and fell down again without being seen; so the supper was as good as ever.
When it was over, the chocolate river came down to have all his wishes, and pick a quarrel with me. And he said: “I’ve nowhere to sit in.”
“Sit in the cordial, if you like.”
“I needn’t mind where I do sit; I can’t curse you.”
“If you don’t waste your time, you’re all right,” said I. I see plainly that I must put the river into a straight-jacket, and then he became as polite as possible. So it was quite easy, after that, to lead him to bed by his nose, which was of a peach-like colour throughout.