THE BLUE ICE-CREAM

Dominion, Volume 25, Issue 69, 15 December 1931, Page 3 (Supplement)

THE BLUE ICE-CREAM

A FAIRY TALE OF MAORILAND.

By

C. J. Little (W averley.)

Here is a fairy tale in which the young New Zealand author sees Mount Egmont as a huge ice cream. Older folk as well as children will appreciate this very original tale.

The Youngest Giant was peeved; it had begun on the day that his father, The King of All The Giants, with ' whose health the hot climate of that country did not agree, had set out to spend the summer in the Cold Places Near the South Pole. Of course, his little son (who was seven years old and exactly sixteen feet high) had wanted to go with him. Hut the King had climbed ha_stily into the secondbest aeroplane (he was leaving the very best one for the Queen) and had flown away in order to avoid an argument with his son. Whereupon the Youngest Giant flung himself on the ground and kicked and howled. When he had quite finished his mummy had his face washed and took him out to have an ice-cream. As these delicacies had just been brought into the country this was the first that the Youngest Giant had tasted. It was white and cold and glistening, and the lower part was rosy witli crushed strawberries. And The Youngest Giant thought it delicious. Every day for three weeks His Royal Highness had a strawberry ice. Then one day, quite without warning, he lay kicking on the floor and bawled that he was tired of pink. When he had quite finished his mummy had his face washed and ordered a pineapple ice. When the Youngest Giant grew tired of yellow, they gave him red ices made with raspberries; then green ones made with greengages: then purple' ones made with blackberries. Then, as they could think of no other suitable colours. they started again with strawberries. At this the Youngest Giant screamed for four days. When he had quite finished his mummy had his face washed and said: “Well, what do you want?’’ “Blue!” roared the Youngest Giant. So the Queen ordered a blue ice. But as no one had ever heard of such a thing it was not brought. Upon being convinced that blue icecreams were unprocurable in the Capital, the Queen took the Youngest Giant and the very best aeroplane and tried every ice-cream shop in the Kingdom. When this search proved in vain, hoardings were erected to advertise the fact that the Queen offered an enormous rewarj] to anyone who could satisfy the royal child’s whim. Consequently, the next few days saw the Palace thronged with persons who thought they might claim the reward. One by one their offerings were carried to the Youngest Giant for inspection. One by one each was scorndd—for not one of them was really blue. “1 said BLUE!” roared the Youngest Giant. “Some of these are greenish and some mauveish. I want BLUE !!” And then the screamed and kicked more loudly and even harder than before. “Something must be done,” said the Queen to the tutor. “It certainly must, Your Majesty,” agreed the tutor. “What do you advise?” asked the Queen. “If your most gracious and well-be-loved Majesty desires my private opinion,” answered the tutor rather timidly, “I should suggest a sturdy bamboo stick applied not too gently to the usual part of his Royal Highness’s

anatomy.” Tins idea so horrified the Queen that she had the tutor immediately cast into the Darkest Dungeon. She then sent rather reluctantly for the Chief Magician. The Chief Magician bowed low before the Queen. “Your most gracious Majesty must pardon me,” he said with dignity, “but you must be aware that by His Majesty’s express command it is only m times of national emergency that we are permitted to practise Magic.” “If this,” replied the Queen, “is not a time of national emergency, may I be spared from seeing one! His Royal Highness has been screaming for ten days. Surely it would take only a teeny-weeny little bit of Magic to produce a blue ice-cream.” Gently but quite definitely the Chief Magician again refused. “There are surely ways,” said he, “of quietening a spoiled child without resorting to Magic. Now. if Your Majesty desires my private opinion I should suggest a bamboo stick appl ’ Whereupon Her Majesty broke into indignant tears. “Oh, dear!” sighed the Chief Magi-

cian, as the sobs grew louder. “This will never do! Perhaps she will lie on the floor soon!” So, in tones of the deepest secrecy, he told the Queen that, although he himself would have nothing whatever to do with the affair, there was an old witch living in a Coldish Place Not Quite So Near the South Pole who might help her. He added that whoever went to interview the witch must hasten, as the King might be returning any day. The next day the Queen sent the Chief Bootiblack and the Second Soapmaker (who, she was told, were persons of great discretion) in. the thirdbest aeroplane to the address that the Chief Magician has whispered to her. The Old Witch received the gifts of the Queen without seeming very impressed. She was busy with her housekeeping accounts and was not too pleased at the interruption. When the messengers had explained their errand she laughed scornfully. “You have come a long way. my good men.” sa,id she. “to have brought so simple a request.”

She then said one word of Magic and there appeared on her writing-desk a plain white sixpenny ice. “You said blue, I think?” said the Old Witch, as she calmly drew back the piston of her fountain-pen and squirted the lower half of the ice with ink. “Well, that’s that.” “If you please, madam,” said the First Bootblack very politely, “the colour is wonderful. It is neither pinkish nor greenish. But —what about the flavour? The tastes of His Royal Highness are somewhat epicurean for one of his years.” The Old Witch handed him a quart bottle of her ink. “This will be only a sip to you,” she; said; “but taste.” After a little hesitation the bootblack gulped down the ink. which he found the most delightful stuff he had ever tasted. “If you please, madam,” said the Second‘Soapmaker, “the colour and the llavoui are indeed wonderful. But what about the size? His Royal Highness is a Giant.” , “If you will kindly remove the ice from my desk I shall soon alter the size,” promised the Witch.

When the Blue Ice Cream was safely in the hands of tlie Second Soapmaker the Old Witch said curtly—- “ Grow!” By the time they had started the aeroplane the ice was just the right size for The Youngest Giant. “Hurrah!” cried the persons of great discretion. “We have done well! The Queen will give us the reward and we will never work again! Aren’t we smart fellows?” They looked proudly at the treasure. It was white and cold and glistening, and the lower half was blue with foun-tain-pen ink; and they knew that The Youngest Giant • would think it delicious. ■ “It’s getting awfully heavy,” said the Second Soapmaker after a while. “You hold it for a bit, will you?” Each time that they changed turns of holding it, the Blue Ice Cream seemed a little heavier. At last it dawned upon them (they were not very quick in the uptake, for all their discretion) that the Old Witch had not told it to stop growing! As they were wondering what to do about It, they heard a familiar roar behind them. The second-best aeroplane was returning. And in the second-best aeroplane was the King! He was very surprised and somewhat annoyed to find one of his planes so far south. As he flew alongside the third-best aeroplane he demanded an explanation.

The two persons of discretion were so worried that they told the truth without thinking. “Drop that thing!” roared the King. “Drop it on that island. If you miss I shall have you both beheaded the minute we arrive home!” Trembling with terror, they flung the long-sought treasure overboard. It landed with a dull Hind on the more northerly of two islands. “It’s still growing,” whispered the Soapmaker. “See, the plate is quite invisible now!” ■ “It’s a great pity,” thought Hie King, looking at some Moas strolling about on the island, “that there is no room for a decent-sized aeroplane to land on that footling little island. A brace of those birds would make a dinner. But I must hurry home. It seems I have already been away too long.” As soon as he reached the Palace he heard the details of the story from the Queen. Then, without even waiting to change his travelling-crown for an every-day one, he ent a stout bamboo stick and applied it not too gently to

the usual part of the Youngest Giant’s Royal anatomy. The Youngest Giant was so surprised that he stopped screaming for the first time in eleven days. He listened very politely while his father gave him a long lecture on the sort of conduct that he thought becoming to the only son of The King of All the Giants. The Youngest Giant then ate a large supper (standing up) and went to bed. where he slept for five days. (Screaming can be very exhausting if indulged in for any length of time.) From that time on the King and his heir were firm friends. Never again did the Youngest Giant kick or scream or demand things that his own land’ could not produce. And in the course

of time he became as good a king as his father had been before him. The Tutor was released and his salary was trebled to make up for the discomfort that he had suffered. The Chief Bootblack and the Second Soapmaker were forced to resign their high positions; but, as they had done only what the Queen had commanded, they were ultimately pardoned and reemployed as Fourth and Fifth Sharpeners of Stainless Knives. ’•, The King was, of course, very angry with the Chief Magician for having mentioned the Old Witch at all. But when he heard how hysterical the Queen had become he quite sympathised. Besides, he could not punish the Chief Magician for fear that the latter might retaliate by changing His Majesty into a mousetrap or even into a banana skin! As for the cause of all the trouble, the Blue Ice Cream, It was still growing when it landed with a dull thud on the more northerly of two southern islands. It continued to do so until it reached a height of eight thousand two hundred and fifty feet above sea level. Then, the Magic having worn itself out. the growing ceased. If you live in Taranaki you may still see the Youngest Giant’s lost ice-cream on any sunny winter's morning. White and cold and glistening it stands, with the lower slopes dyed blue by the Old Witch’s ink.