CHAPTER XV
A STRANGE HOUSE IN THE FOREST

Together they traveled along the road the greater part of the day without mishap and without any experience worth recording.

As was her custom, the Masked Lady did not make her appearance among them as long as they were quite light-hearted, and Everychild went so far as to congratulate himself upon having seen the last of her.

Toward evening they came within sight of a path leading into the road on which they traveled, and on a stile which stood in the way of the path they observed a little boy who was plainly in trouble.

With much difficulty the little boy crawled up the stile, step by step; and when he got to the top step and paused a minute, he turned about, just as small children will do, and began climbing down the stile on the other side, moving feet foremost.

Now and again he looked over his shoulder to be sure that his feet had been safely placed before he put his weight on them; and when he did this you could see his face, showing two eyes very bright with excitement and fear.

At last he had got clear over the stile; and then he stood erect and put his finger in his mouth. You could tell that he was trying to think what to do now.

In the meantime Everychild and his companions had come up.

"Such a cute little chap," said Everychild. Then he spoke to the child. "Where are you going, little boy?" he asked.

The little boy looked at Everychild blankly. He looked at him quite a long time. Then he looked at the other members of the band. Finally he looked at Everychild again, still with a blank expression. But at last he replied, "I want to go home, but I dasn't."

The band of travelers all laughed at this; whereupon the little boy looked at all of them, one after another. He still had his finger in his mouth, where he kept crooking it and uncrooking it.

Then Cinderella asked: "Why dare you not go home?"

The little boy lowered his eyes until they rested on the ground. "Because I dasn't," he said.

"But why?" persisted Cinderella.

A pause; and then, "Because I'll catch a lickin'."

It seemed to Everychild that the little boy was much too small to be whipped; and he said with assurance, "You may go with us, if you will, and then you'll never get a whipping again."

But the little boy only shook his head. Clearly there was a difficulty in the way of accepting the invitation. And presently he began, falteringly, "My brothers and sisters …"

"Oh," said Cinderella, understanding, "he doesn't want to leave his brothers and sisters."

"But we could take your brothers and sisters, too," said Everychild to the little boy.

The little boy now gazed at Everychild, and the blank expression in his eyes was there no more.

"Come, we'll get them," declared Everychild. "Do you live far away?"

"There," said the little boy, pointing away into the forest, where not a sign of a house was visible.

Here Grettel spoke for the first time: "Let's not," she said. "I don't think I care about wandering away into the woods."

"We might get lost," suggested Cinderella.

And now the giant interposed. "I agree with Everychild that we ought to take the little boy and his brothers and sisters with us," he said; "and as for wandering away into the woods, that will not be necessary. I'll take you to the house where the little boy lives by a secret method which I understand."

With that he faced the depths of the forest and stood very erect, with hands uplifted. There was a very solemn expression in his eyes. And suddenly it seemed that the nearby trees began to lift and disappear; and presto!—Everychild and his companions were standing quite close to one of the most famous and remarkable houses ever heard of.

Everychild had too little time just then to marvel at the strange feat which had been performed by the giant. He was lost in amazement at the house before which he stood.

It was really an immense, dilapidated shoe, patched and broken. The toe was about to gape open, though it was held here and there by a few threads. The laces were gone and the whole upper sprawled shapelessly. In brief, it was precisely like any old shoe you will see on a vacant lot, save for its immense size. Its size was prodigious. It was as large as a small house.

A stovepipe stuck out where the little toe would be, and smoke was pouring out of the pipe just as if some one had been putting a supply of fuel on the fire. It was woodsmoke and had a pleasant smell. It seemed that perhaps some one was preparing supper.

Not a soul was in sight about the house—or the shoe—nor about the premises. Yet you could see that some one had been hard at work only a short time before. The wash had been hung out to dry and it was still damp. It hung from a line which was suspended from the highest point of the shoe—where the strap is that you pull it on by—to the limb of a nearby tree. You could tell by the garments that there were a lot of children about. There were best shirts and every-day shirts and petticoats and trousers. There were many colors, so that they all made a rather gay spectacle. And some were of ordinary size, and some were quite tiny.

There were many trees in the background; and one of these cast its shade over the immense shoe in a very pleasing way. There was a table under the tree, and a kind of dinner-bell hanging from a limb of the tree. There were chairs about the table. Finally, there was a ladder standing against the shoe, so that you could climb up and get in at the top.

"And so," said Everychild in a tone of wonder, "this is where you live!" He had taken the little boy by the hand.

The little boy was about to reply when something almost alarming happened. The little boy slipped his hand away from Everychild's and shrank back until he was hiding behind Cinderella's skirt. An astonishing head and shoulders appeared above the top of the shoe!

The Old Woman who Lived in the Shoe had heard them. She remained perched in her place, glaring severely about the yard below.

Nor was this all. Other individuals inside the shoe had evidently heard the voice of Everychild. And now they began to peep out in the most extraordinary fashion. Three pairs of eyes appeared at the broken toe of the shoe. And up the double row of eye-holes, all the way up the front of the shoe, startled faces were to be seen. You could see excited eyes with hair hanging down before them.

All this proved too much for the little black dog, who had gone forward from Tom's side to inspect the shoe. Now he began barking excitedly at the half-hidden faces.

Everychild stood in his place, wide-eyed and with beating heart.

The Old Woman arose more fully into view. She stared down at Everychild. She flung the hair back from her face.

"Humph!" she said. AfPwY0QhtknQF9rGG7Ww6gCplLV78bu+kjgUrPKujVcwujWU2xDQfKo5k9iLtLRR