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The Great Panjandrum Himself
by
“Hold on, Amanda, and I’ll go with you.”
The little lady with the red parasol seemed to hear him this time, for she turned her head long enough to say something, but she kept walking briskly forward, either because she couldn’t help it, or more likely for fear somebody else would get the pot of gold which, as everybody knows, lies at the end of a rainbow. However, by running, the little inch-long gentleman caught up with the seven-eighths of an inch lady, and the two went along together to find the pot of gold.
Still the Great Panjandrum kept toiling at the crank, while others plunged into the hopper and came out “ground down to a proper size,” as the Great Panjan kept saying. Presently some of the children who had come in with me jumped into the hopper and came out about half an inch in length. The others followed, and I went up to the top and looked at the whirling wheels, fearing to make the leap. But at last I became fascinated and could not take away my eyes. I did not care about the pot of gold, nor about the rainbows, nor did I exactly like the idea of being “ground down to a proper size.” But I looked at the wheels until I became dizzy, and at length fell into the whirl and was pitched and turned about in the most frightful way until I came out at the bottom. I felt as big as ever, but when I looked up and saw the eyes of the people staring at me through the peep-holes and found that these eyes were nearly as large across as I was tall, I knew that I must have been ground down. I ran after the children and went on for a long time, trying to find the ends of the rainbows. There were many suns in the sky and many rainbows, but no pots of gold, nor would the ends of the rainbows wait for us.
At length we came to the one written over with unknown letters that shone with their own light. This one stood still, having one end resting in a low-lying valley and the other end on top of a high mountain, which was very steep and difficult to climb. At the lower end we found an earthen pot sealed up, which the gentleman in the white hat proceeded to open. To the disappointment of the lady with the red parasol and all of us, there was not a piece of gold in it–only a paper on which was written,
“THE GOLD IS AT THE HIGHEST END OF THE RAINBOW.”
We looked up the mountain-side, but all of us by this time felt too weary and lazy to scramble up the cliffs, and among the thorns to find a pot of gold. Besides we were hungry, and not a little uneasy as to how we should get back our proper size. A ground-down Pickaninny who had joined us proposed to hop over along the arch of the rainbow and see whether there was any gold on the mountain-top. Being very light he easily ran up the bow, while we, anxious to get out, did not even wait for him to come back, but hurried down the long road toward the peep-holes and the grinding-machine. I say the long road, for it seemed miles to us little people. I suppose we had travelled twice the length of a good-sized house from the starting-point, and that is a long journey for legs so short.
All the way we wondered how we should get out, and whether we should ever regain our proper stature. When we came to the grinding place the mill was still. We accosted an old Garuly who was wandering about.
“How do we get out?” I said.
“Why, by getting the Great Panjandrum Himself to set the thing a-going the other way,” he squeaked.