Noah Davis - "A Narrative of The Life of Rev. Noah Davis, A Colored Man."

Jules Verne - "20000 Lieues sous les mers Part 1"

Forbes Robinson - "Letters to His Friends"

Clinton Scollard - "From The Lips of the Sea"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

The Magic City

E >> Edith Nesbit >> The Magic City




'I always did say Master Pip was a gentleman, and I always shall,' Mr.
Perrin remarked.

'I congratulate you,' said Mr. Noah, 'and I am happy to announce that
your fifth deed is now accomplished. You remember our empty silver
fruit-dishes? Your fifth deed was to be the supplying of Polistarchia
with fruit. This island is the only place in the kingdom where fruit
grows. The ark will serve to convey the fruit to the mainland, and the
performance of this deed raises you to the rank of Duke.'

'Philip, you're a dear,' said Lucy in a whisper.

'Shut up,' said Philip fiercely.

'Three cheers,' said a familiar voice, 'for the Duke of Donors.'

'Three cheers,' repeated the Lord High Islander, 'for the Duke of
Donors.'

What a cheer! All the islanders cheered and the M.A.'s and Lucy and Mr.
Perrin and Mr. Noah, and from the inside of the ark came enthusiastic
barkings and gruntings and roarings and squeakings--as the animals of
course joined in as well as they could. Thousands of gulls, circling on
white wings in the sun above, added their screams to the general chorus.
And when the sound of the last cheer died away, a little near familiar
voice said:

'Well done, Philip! I'm proud of you.'

It was the parrot who, perched on the rigging of the _Lightning Loose_,
had started the cheering.

'So that's all right,' it said, fluttered on to Philip's shoulder and
added, 'I've heard you calling for me on the island all the week. But I
felt I needed a rest. I've been talking too much. And that
Pretenderette. And that cage. I assure you I needed a little time to get
over my adventures.'

'We have all had our adventures,' said Mr. Noah gently. And Helen said:

'Won't you land and take possession of the island? I'm sure we are
longing to hear each other's adventures.'

'You first,' said Mr. Noah to the Lord High Islander, who stepped ashore
very gravely.

When Helen saw him come forward, she suddenly kissed Philip, and as the
Lord High Islander's foot touched the shore of that enchanted island,
she simply and suddenly vanished.

'Oh!' cried Philip, 'I wish I hadn't.' And his mouth trembled as girls'
mouths do if they are going to cry.

'The more a present costs you, the more it's worth,' said Mr. Noah.
'This has cost you so much, it's the most splendid present in the
world.'

'I know,' said Philip; 'make yourselves at home, won't you?' he just
managed to say. And then he found he could not say any more. He just
turned and went into the forest. And when he was alone in a green glade,
he flung himself down on his face and lay a long time without moving. It
had been such a happy week. And he was so tired of adventures.

When at last he sniffed with an air of finality and raised his head, the
first thing he saw was Lucy, sitting quite still with her back to him.

'Hullo!' he said rather crossly, 'what are you doing here?'

'Saying the multiplication table,' said Lucy promptly and turned her
head, 'so as not even to think about you. And I haven't even once
turned round. I knew you wanted to be alone. But I wanted to be here
when you'd done being alone. See? I've got something to say to you.'

'Fire ahead,' said Philip, still grumpy.

'I think you're perfectly splendid,' said Lucy very seriously, 'and I
want it to be real pax for ever. And I'll help you in the rest of the
adventures. And if you're cross, I'll try not to mind. Napoleon was
cross sometimes, I believe,' she added pensively, 'and Julius Caesar.'

'Oh, that's all right,' said Philip very awkwardly.

'Then we're going to be real chums?'

'Oh yes, if you like. Only--I don't mind just this once; and it was
decent of you to come and sit there with your back to me--only I hate
gas.'

'Yes,' said Lucy obediently, 'I know. Only sometimes you feel you must
gas a little or burst of admiration. And I've got your proper clothes in
a bundle. I've been carrying them about ever since the islanders' castle
was washed away. Here they are.'

She produced the bundle. And this time Philip was really touched.

'Now I _do_ call that something like,' he said. 'The seaweed dress is
all right here, but you never know what you may have to go through when
you're doing adventures. There might be thorns or snakes or anything.
I'm jolly glad to get my boots back too. I say, come on. Let's go to
Helen's palace and get a banquet ready. I know there'll have to be a
banquet. There always is, here. I know a first-rate bun-tree quite near
here.'

'The cocoa-nut-ice plants looked beautiful as I came along,' said Lucy.
'What a lovely island it is. And you made it!'

'No gas,' said Philip warningly. 'Helen and I made it.'

'She's the dearest darling,' said Lucy.

'Oh, well,' said Philip with resignation, 'if you must gas, gas about
her.'

The banquet was all that you can imagine of interesting and magnificent.
And Philip was, of course, the hero of the hour. And when the banquet
was finished and the last guest had departed to its own house--for the
houses on the island were of course all ready to be occupied, furnished
to the last point of comfort, with pin-cushions full of pins in every
room, Mr. Noah and Lucy and Philip sat down on the terrace steps among
the pink roses for a last little talk.

'Because,' said Philip, 'we shall start the first thing in the morning.
So please will you tell me now what the next deed is that I have to
do?'

'Will you go by ark?' Mr. Noah asked, rolling up his yellow mat to make
an elbow rest and leaning on it; 'I shall be delighted.'

'I thought,' said Philip, 'we might go in the _Lightning Loose_. I've
never sailed her yet, you know. Do you think I _could_?'

'Of course you can,' said Mr. Noah; 'and if not, Lucy can show you. Your
charming yacht is steered on precisely the same principle as the ark.
And in this land all the winds are favourable. You will find the yacht
suitably provisioned. And I may add that you can go most of the way to
your next deed by water--first the sea and then the river.'

'And what,' asked Philip, 'is the next deed?'

'In the extreme north of Polistarchia,' said Mr. Noah instructively,
'lies a town called Somnolentia. It used to be called Briskford in
happier days. A river then ran through the town, a rapid river that
brought much gold from the mountains. The people used to work very hard
to keep the channel clear of the lumps of gold which continually
threatened to choke it. Their fields were then well-watered and
fruitful, and the inhabitants were cheerful and happy. But when the
Hippogriff was let out of the book, a Great Sloth got out too. Evading
all efforts to secure him, the Great Sloth journeyed northward. He is a
very large and striking animal, and by some means, either fear or
admiration, he obtained a complete ascendancy over the inhabitants of
Briskford. He induced them to build him a temple of solid gold, and
while they were doing this the river bed became choked up and the stream
was diverted into another channel far from the town. Since then the
place is fallen into decay. The fields are parched and untilled. Such
water as the people need for drinking is drawn by great labour from a
well. Washing has become shockingly infrequent.'

'Are we to teach the dirty chaps to wash?' asked Philip in disgust.

'Do not interrupt,' said Mr. Noah. 'You destroy the thread of my
narrative. Where was I?'

'Washing infrequent,' said Lucy; 'but if the fields are dried up, what
do they live on?'

'Pine-apples,' replied Mr. Noah, 'which grow freely and do not need much
water. Gathering these is the sole industry of this degraded people.
Pine-apples are not considered a fruit but a vegetable,' he added
hastily, seeing another question trembling on Philip's lips. 'Whatever
of their waking time can be spared from the gathering and eating of the
pine-apples is spent in singing choric songs in honour of the Great
Sloth. And even this time is short, for such is his influence on the
Somnolentians that when he sleeps they sleep too, and,' added Mr. Noah
impressively, 'he sleeps almost all the time. Your deed is to devise
some means of keeping the Great Sloth awake and busy. And I think you've
got your work cut out. When you've disposed of the Great Sloth you can
report yourself to me here. I shall remain here for some little time. I
need a holiday. The parrot will accompany you. It knows its way about as
well as any bird in the land. Good-night. And good luck! You will excuse
my not being down to breakfast.'

And the next morning, dewy-early, Philip and Lucy and the parrot went
aboard the yacht and loosed her from her moorings, and Lucy showed
Philip how to steer, and the parrot sat on the mast and called out
instructions.

They made for the mouth of a river. ('I never built a river,' said
Philip. 'No,' said the parrot, 'it came out of the poetry book.') And
when they were hungry they let down the anchor and went into the cabin
for breakfast. And two people sprang to meet them, almost knocking
Lucy down with the violence of their welcome. The two people were Max
and Brenda.

[Illustration: He induced them to build him a temple of solid gold.]

'Oh, you dear dogs,' Lucy cried, and Philip patted them, one with each
hand, 'how did you get here?'

'It was a little surprise of Mr. Noah's,' said the parrot.

Max and Brenda whined and barked and gushed.

'I wish we could understand what they're saying,' said Lucy.

'If you only knew the magic word that the Hippogriff obeys,' said the
parrot, 'you could say it, and then you'd understand all animal talk.
Only, of course, I mustn't tell it you. It's one of the eleven
mysteries.'

'But I know it,' said Philip, and at once breathed the word in the tiny
silky ear of Brenda and then in the longer silkier ear of Max, and
instantly--

'Oh, my dears!' they heard Brenda say in a softly shrill excited voice;
'oh, my dearie dears! We _are_ so pleased to see you. I'm only a poor
little faithful doggy; I'm not clever, you know, but my affectionate
nature makes me almost mad with joy to see my dear master and mistress
again.'

'Very glad to see you, sir,' said Max with heavy politeness. 'I hope
you'll be comfortable here. There's no comfort for a dog like being with
his master.'

And with that he sat down and went to sleep, and the others had
breakfast. It is rather fun cooking in yachts. And there was something
new and charming in Brenda's delicate way of sitting up and begging and
saying at the same time, 'I do _hate_ to bother my darling master and
mistress, but if you _could_ spare another _tiny_ bit of bacon--Oh,
_thank you_, how good and generous you are!'

They sailed the yacht successfully into the river which presently ran
into the shadow of a tropical forest. Also out of a book.

'You might go on during the night,' said the parrot, 'if the dogs would
steer under my directions. You could tie one end of a rope to their
collars and another to the helm. It's easier than turning spits.'

'Delighted!' said Max; 'only, of course, it's understood that we sleep
through the day?'

'Of course,' said everybody. So that was settled. And the children went
to bed.

It was in the middle of the night that the parrot roused Philip with his
usual gentle beak-touch. Then--

'Wake up,' it said; 'this is not the right river. It's not the right
direction. Nothing's right. The ship's all wrong. I'm very much afraid
some one has been opening a book and this river has got out.'

Philip hurried out on deck, and by the light of the lamps from the
cabin, gazed out at the banks of the river. At least he looked for them.
But there weren't any banks. Instead, steep and rugged cliffs rose on
each side, and overhead, instead of a starry sky, was a great arched
roof of a cavern glistening with moisture and dark as a raven's
feathers.

'We must turn back,' said Philip. 'I don't like this at all.'

'Unfortunately,' said the parrot, 'there is no room to turn back, and
the _Lightning Loose_ is not constructed for going backwards.'

'Oh, dear,' whispered Brenda, 'I wish we hadn't come. Dear little dogs
ought to be taken comfortable care of and not be sent out on nasty ships
that can't turn back when it's dangerous.'

'My dear,' said Max with slow firmness, 'dear little dogs can't help
themselves now. So they had better look out for chances of helping their
masters.'

'But what can we _do_, then?' said Philip impatiently.

'I fear,' said the parrot, 'that we can do nothing but go straight on.
If this river is in a book it will come out somewhere. No river in a
book ever runs underground and stays there.'

'I shan't wake Lucy,' said Philip; 'she might be frightened.'

'You needn't,' said Lucy, 'she's awake, and she's no more frightened
than you are.'

('You hear that,' said Max to Brenda; 'you take example by her, my
dear!')

'But if we are going the wrong way, we shan't reach the Great Sloth,'
Lucy went on.

'Sooner or later, one way or another, we shall come to him,' said the
parrot; 'and time is of no importance to a Great Sloth.'

It was now very cold, and our travellers were glad to wrap themselves in
the flags of all nations with which the yacht was handsomely provided.
Philip made a sort of tabard of the Union Jack and the old Royal Arms of
England, with the lilies and leopards; and Lucy wore the Japanese flag
as a shawl. She said the picture of the sun on it made her feel warm.
But Philip shivered under his complicated crosses and lions, as the
_Lightning Loose_ swept on over the dark tide between the dark walls and
under the dark roof of the cavern.

'Cheer up,' said the parrot. 'Think what a lot of adventures you're
having that no one else has ever had: think what a lot of things you'll
have to tell the other boys when you go to school.'

'The other boys wouldn't believe a word of it,' said Philip in gloom. 'I
wouldn't unless I knew it was true.'

'What I think is,' said Lucy, watching the yellow light from the lamps
rushing ahead along the roof, 'that we shan't want to tell people. It'll
be just enough to know it ourselves and talk about it, just Philip and
me together.'

'Well, as to that----' the parrot was beginning doubtfully, when he
broke off to exclaim:

'Do my claws deceive me or is there a curious vibration, and noticeable
acceleration of velocity?'

'Eh?' said Philip, which is not manners, and he knew it.

'He means,' said Max stolidly, 'aren't we going rather fast and rather
wobbly?'

We certainly were. The _Lightning Loose_ was going faster and faster
along that subterranean channel, and every now and then gave a lurch and
a shiver.

'Oh!' whined Brenda; 'this is a dreadful place for dear little dogs!'

'Philip!' said Lucy in a low voice, 'I know something is going to
happen. Something dreadful. We _are_ friends, aren't we?'

'Yes,' said Philip firmly.

'Then I wish you'd kiss me.'

'I can like you just as much without that,' said Philip uneasily.
'Kissing people--it's silly, don't you think?'

'Nobody's kissed me since daddy went away,' she said, 'except Helen. And
you don't mind kissing Helen. She _said_ you were going to adopt me for
your sister.'

'Oh! all right,' said Philip, and put his arm round her and kissed her.
She felt so little and helpless and bony in his arm that he suddenly
felt sorry for her, kissed her again more kindly and then, withdrawing
his arm, thumped her hearteningly on the back.

'Be a man,' he said in tones of comradeship and encouragement. 'I'm
perfectly certain nothing's going to happen. We're just going through a
tunnel, and presently we shall just come out into the open air again,
with the sky and the stars going on as usual.'

He spoke this standing on the prow beside Lucy, and as he spoke she
clutched his arm.

'Oh, look,' she breathed, 'oh, listen!'

He listened. And he heard a dull echoing roar that got louder and
louder. And he looked. The light of the lamps shone ahead on the dark
gleaming water, and then quite suddenly it did not shine on the water
because there was no longer any water for it to shine on. Only great
empty black darkness. A great hole, ahead, into which the stream poured
itself. And now they were at the edge of the gulf. The _Lightning Loose_
gave a shudder and a bound and hung for what seemed a long moment on the
edge of the precipice down which the underground river was pouring
itself in a smooth sleek stream, rather like poured treacle, over what
felt like the edge of everything solid.

[Illustration: Plunged headlong over the edge.]

The moment ended, and the little yacht, with Philip and Lucy and the
parrot and the two dogs, plunged headlong over the edge into the dark
unknown abyss below.

'It's all right, Lu,' said Philip in that moment. 'I'll take care of
you.'

And then there was silence in the cavern--only the rushing sound of the
great waterfall echoed in the rocky arch.




CHAPTER X

THE GREAT SLOTH


You have heard of Indians shooting rapids in their birch-bark canoes?
And perhaps you have yourself sailed a toy boat on a stream, and made a
dam of clay, and waited with more or less patience till the water rose
nearly to the top, and then broken a bit of your dam out and made a
waterfall and let your boat drift over the edge of it. You know how it
goes slowly at first, then hesitates and sweeps on more and more
quickly. Sometimes it upsets; and sometimes it shudders and strains and
trembles and sways to one side and to the other, and at last rights
itself and makes up its mind, and rushes on down the stream, usually to
be entangled in the clump of rushes at the stream's next turn. This is
what happened to that good yacht, the _Lightning Loose_. She shot over
the edge of that dark smooth subterranean waterfall, hung a long
breathless moment between still air and falling water, slid down like a
flash, dashed into the stream below, shuddered, reeled, righted herself
and sped on. You have perhaps been down the water chute at Earl's Court?
It was rather like that.

'It's--it's all right,' said Philip, in a rather shaky whisper. 'She's
going on all right.'

'Yes,' said Lucy, holding his arm very tight; 'yes, I'm sure she's going
on all right.'

'Are we drowned?' said a trembling squeak. 'Oh, Max, are we really
drowned?'

'I don't think so,' Max replied with caution. 'And if we are, my dear,
we cannot undrown ourselves by screams.'

'Far from it,' said the parrot, who had for the moment been rendered
quite speechless by the shock. And you know a parrot is not made
speechless just by any little thing. 'So we may just as well try to
behave,' it said.

The lamps had certainly behaved, and behaved beautifully; through the
wild air of the fall, the wild splash as the _Lightning Loose_ struck
the stream below, the lamps had shone on, seemingly undisturbed.

'An example to us all,' said the parrot.

'Yes, but,' said Lucy, 'what are we to do?'

'When adventures take a turn one is far from expecting, one does what
one can,' said the parrot.

'And what's that?'

'Nothing,' said the parrot. 'Philip has relieved Max at the helm and is
steering a straight course between the banks--if you can call them
banks. There is nothing else to be done.'

There plainly wasn't. The _Lightning Loose_ rushed on through the
darkness. Lucy reflected for a moment and then made cocoa. This was real
heroism. It cheered every one up, including the cocoa-maker herself. It
was impossible to believe that anything dreadful was going to happen
when you were making that soft, sweet, ordinary drink.

'I say,' Philip remarked when she carried a cup to him at the wheel,
'I've been thinking. All this is out of a book. Some one must have let
it out. I know what book it's out of too. And if the whole story got out
of the book we're all right. Only we shall go on for ages and climb out
at last, three days' journey from Trieste.'

'I see,' said Lucy, and added that she hated geography. 'Drink your
cocoa while it's hot,' she said in motherly accents, and 'what book is
it?'

'It's _The Last Cruise of the Teal_,' he said. 'Helen gave it me just
before she went away. It's a ripping book, and I used it for the roof
of the outer court of the Hall of Justice. I remember it perfectly. The
chaps on the _Teal_ made torches of paper soaked in paraffin.'

'We haven't any,' said Lucy; 'besides our lamps light everything up all
right. Oh! there's Brenda crying again. She hasn't a shadow of pluck.'

She went quickly to the cabin where Max was trying to cheer Brenda by
remarks full of solid good sense, to which Brenda paid no attention
whatever.

'I knew how it would be,' she kept saying in a whining voice; 'I told
you so from the beginning. I wish we hadn't come. I want to go home. Oh!
what a dreadful thing to happen to dear little dogs.'

'Brenda,' said Lucy firmly, 'if you don't stop whining you shan't have
any cocoa.'

Brenda stopped at once and wagged her tail appealingly.

'Cocoa?' she said, 'did any one say cocoa? My nerves are so delicate. I
know I'm a trial, dear Max, it's no use your pretending I'm not, but
there is nothing like cocoa for the nerves. Plenty of sugar, please,
dear Lucy. Thank you _so_ much! Yes, it's _just_ as I like it.'

'There will be other things to eat by and by,' said Lucy. 'People who
whine won't get any.'

'I'm sure nobody would _dream_ of whining,' said Brenda. 'I know I'm too
sensitive; but you can do anything with dear little dogs by kindness.
And as for whining--do you know it's a thing I've never been subject to,
from a child, never. Max will tell you the same.'

Max said nothing, but only fixed his beautiful eyes hopefully on the
cocoa jug.

And all the time the yacht was speeding along the underground stream,
beneath the vast arch of the underground cavern.

'The worst of it is we may be going ever so far away from where we want
to get to,' said Philip, when Max had undertaken the steering again.

'All roads,' remarked the parrot, 'lead to Somnolentia. And besides the
ship is travelling due north--at least so the ship's compass states, and
I have no reason as yet for doubting its word.'

'Hullo!' cried more than one voice, and the ship shot out of the dark
cavern into a sheet of water that lay spread under a white dome. The
stream that had brought them there seemed to run across one side of this
pool. Max, directed by the parrot, steered the ship into smooth water,
where she lay at rest at last in the very middle of this great
underground lake.

'_This_ isn't out of _The Cruise of the Teal_,' said Philip. 'They must
have shut that book.'

'I think it's out of a book about Mexico or Peru or Ingots or some
geographical place,' said Lucy; 'it had a green-and-gold binding. I
think you used it for the other end of the outer justice court. And if
you did, this dome's solid silver, and there's a hole in it, and under
this dome there's untold treasure in gold incas.'

'What's incas?'

'Gold bars, I believe,' said Lucy; 'and Mexicans come down through the
hole in the roof and get it, and when enemies come they flood it with
water. It's flooded now,' she added unnecessarily.

'I wish adventures had never been invented,' said Brenda. 'No, dear
Lucy, I am not whining. Far from it. But if a dear little dog might
suggest it, we should all be better in a home, should we not?'

All eyes now perceived a dark hole in the roof, a round hole exactly in
the middle of the shining dome. And as they gazed the dark hole became
light. And they saw above them a white shining disk like a very large
and very bright moon. It was the light of day.

'Some one has opened the trap-door,' said Lucy. 'The Ingots always
closed their treasure-vaults with trap-doors.'

The bright disk was obscured; confused shapes broke its shining
roundness. Then another disk, small and very black appeared in the
middle of it; the black disk grew larger and larger and larger. It was
coming down to them. Slowly and steadily it came; now it reached the
level of the dome, now it hung below it; down, down, down it came, past
the level of their eager eyes and splashed in the water close by the
ship. It was a large empty bucket. The rope which held it was jerked
from above; the bucket dipped and filled and was drawn up again slowly
and steadily till it disappeared in the hole in the roof.

'Quick,' said the parrot, 'get the ship exactly under the hole, and next
time the bucket comes down you can go up in it.'

'This is out of the _Arabian Nights_, I think,' said Lucy, when the
yacht was directly under the hole in the roof. 'But who is it that keeps
on opening the books? Somebody must be pulling Polistopolis down.'

'The Pretenderette, I shouldn't wonder,' said Philip gloomily. 'She
isn't the Deliverer, so she must be the Destroyer. Nobody else can get
into Polistarchia, you know.'

'There's me.'

'Oh, you're Deliverer too.'

'Thank you,' said Lucy gratefully. 'But there's Helen.'

'She was only on the Island, you know; she couldn't come to
Polistarchia. Look out!'

The bucket was descending again, and instead of splashing in the water
it bumped on the deck.

'You go first,' said Philip to Lucy.

'And you,' said Max to Brenda.

'Oh, I'll go first if you like,' said Philip.

'Yes,' said Max, 'I'll go first if you like, Brenda.'

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