"I asked if this was Fairyland," repeated Jack, for he thought the first old woman might have been deaf. She was very handsomely dressed in a red satin gown, and did not look in the least like a washer-woman, though it afterwards appeared that she was one.
"He says, 'Is this Fairyland?' " she replied; and the other, who had a blue satin cloak, answered: "Oh, does he?" and then began to empty the panniers of many small blue and pink and scarlet shirts, and coats, and stockings; and when they had made them into two little heaps they knelt down and began to wash them in the river, taking no notice of him whatever.
Jack stared at them. They were not much taller than himself, and they were not taking the slightest care of their handsome clothes; then he looked at the old white horse, who was hanging his head over the lovely clear water with a very discontented air.
At last the blue washer-woman said: "I shall leave off now; I've got a pain in my works."
"Do," said the other. "We'll go home and have a cup of tea." Then she glanced at Jack, who was still sitting in the boat, and said: "Can you strike?"
"I can if I choose," replied Jack, a little astonished at this speech. And the red and blue washer-women wrung out the clothes, put them again into the panniers and, taking the old horse by the bridle, began gently to lead him away.
"I have a great mind to land," thought Jack. "I should not wonder at all if this is Fairyland. So, as the boat came here to please me, I shall ask it to stay where it is, in case I should want it again."
So he sprang ashore, and said to the boat: "Stay just where you are, will you?" and he ran after the old women, calling to them:
"Is there any law to prevent my coming into your country?"
"Wo!" cried the red-coated old woman, and the horse stopped, while the blue-coated woman repeated: "Any law? No, not that I know of; but if you are a stranger here you had better look out."
"Why?" asked Jack.
"You don't suppose, do you," she answered, "that our Queen will wind up strangers?"
While Jack was wondering what she meant, the other said:
"I shouldn't wonder if he goes eight days. Gee!" and the horse went on.
"No, wo!" said the other.
"No, no. Gee! I tell you," cried the first.
Upon this, to Jack's intense astonishment, the old horse stopped, and said, speaking through his nose:
"Now, then, which it is to be? I'm willing to gee, and I'm agreeable to wo; but what's a fellow to do when you say them both together?"
"Why, he talks!" exclaimed Jack.
"It's because he's got a cold in his head," observed one of the washer-women; "he always talks when he's got a cold, and there's no pleasing him; whatever you say, he's not satisfied. Gee, Boney, do!"
"Gee it is, then," said the horse, and began to jog on.
"He spoke again!" said Jack, upon which the horse laughed, and Jack was quite alarmed.
"It appears that your horses don't talk?" observed the blue-coated woman.
"Never," answered Jack; "they can't."
"You mean they won't," observed the old horse; and though he spoke the words of mankind it was not in a voice like theirs. Still Jack felt that his was just the natural tone for a horse, and that it did not arise only from the length of his nose. "You'll find out some day, perhaps," he continued, "whether horses can talk or not."
"Shall I?" said Jack very earnestly.
"They'll TELL," proceeded the white horse." I wouldn't be you when they tell how you've used them."
"Have you been ill used?" said Jack, in an anxious tone.
"Yes, yes, of course he has," one of the women broke in; "but he has come here to get all right again. This is a very wholesome country for horses; isn't it, Boney?"
"Yes," said the horse.
"Well, then, jog on, there's a dear," continued the old woman. "Why, you will be young again soon, you know young, and gamesome, and handsome; you'll be quite a colt by and by, and then we shall set you free to join your companions in the happy meadows."
The old horse was so comforted by this kind speech that he pricked up his ears and quickened his pace considerably.
"He was shamefully used," observed one washer-woman. "Look at him, how lean he is! You can see all his ribs."
"Yes," said the other, as if apologizing for the poor old horse. "He gets low-spirited when he thinks of all he has gone through; but he is a vast deal better already than he was. He used to live in London; his master always carried a long whip to beat him with, and never spoke civilly to him."
"London!" exclaimed Jack. "Why, that is my country. How did the horse get here?"
"That's no business of yours," answered one of the women. "But I can tell you he came because he was wanted, which is more than you are."
"You let him alone," said the horse in a querulous tone. "I don't bear any malice."
"No, he has a good disposition, has Boney," observed the red old woman. "Pray, are you a boy?"
"Yes," said Jack.
"A real boy, that wants no winding up?" inquired the old woman.
"I don't know what you mean," answered Jack; "but I am a real boy, certainly."
"Ah!" she replied. "Well, I thought you were, by the way Boney spoke to you. How frightened you must be! I wonder what will be done to all your people for driving, and working, and beating so many beautiful creatures to death every year that comes? They'll have to pay for it some day, you may depend."
Jack was a little alarmed, and answered that he had never been unkind himself to horses, and he was glad that Boney bore no malice.
"They worked him, and often drove him about all night in the miserable streets, and never let him have so much as a canter in a green field," said one of the women; "but he'll be all right now, only he has to begin at the wrong end."
"What do you mean?" said Jack.
"Why, in this country," answered the old woman, "they begin by being terribly old and stiff, and they seem miserable and jaded at first, but by degrees they get young again, as you heard me reminding him."
"Indeed," said Jack; "and do you like that?"
"It has nothing to do with me," she answered. "We are only here to take care of all the creatures that men have ill used. While they are sick and old, which they are when first they come to us after they are dead, you know we take care of them, and gradually bring them up to be young and happy again."
"This must be a very nice country to live in then," said Jack.
"For horses it is," said the old lady significantly.
"Well," said Jack, "it does seem very full of haystacks certainly, and all the air smells of fresh grass."
At this moment they came to a beautiful meadow, and the old horse stopped and, turning to the blue-coated woman, said: "Faxa, I think I could fancy a handful of clover." Upon this Faxa snatched Jack's cap off his head, and in a very active manner jumped over a little ditch, and gathering some clover, presently brought it back full, handing it to the old horse with great civility.
"You shouldn't be in such a hurry," observed the old horse, "your weights will be running down some day, if you don't mind."
"It's all zeal," observed the red-coated woman.
Just then a little man, dressed like a groom, came running up, out of breath. "Oh, here you are, Dow!" he exclaimed to the red-coated woman. "Come along, will you? Lady Betty wants you; it's such a hot day, and nobody, she says, can fan her so well as you can."
The red-coated woman, without a word, went off with the groom, and Jack thought he would go with them, for this Lady Betty could surely tell him whether the country was called Fairyland, or whether he must get into his boat and go farther. He did not like either to hear the way in which Faxa and Dow talked about their works and their weights; so he asked Faxa to give him his cap, which she did, and he heard a curious sort of little ticking noise as he came close to her, which startled him.