The Magic Soap Bubble — Background and Themes

There was a great change in the temperature, or else the inside of the bubble was very warm, for Ned began to shiver and shake. "Who-o-!" he cried; "it's co-old!"

"Of course it is. Look," answered the Gnome, and Ned's eyes, following the pointing finger of his little friend, fell upon a strange and terrifying figure.

Behind a bank of icicles stood a giant, with an immense helmet upon his head, from which hung long sharp pieces of ice. The top part was covered with snow which slipped off at intervals like a small avalanche to the ground below. His beard and mustache were festooned with thin slivers of ice, and his shoulders bore epaulets of frosted snow. The cuffs of his greatcoat were fringed with snowflakes, and altogether he was a startling and frigid looking individual. In his hands he held a monstrous bellows, from which he forced out a blast of icy air which, scattering the snow in whirling clouds, went howling down the rocky ravines.

"He's the Wind Man of the Mountain," explained the Gnome, turning to shivering Ned, whose toes and fingers by this time were quite numb with the cold.

"Well, I'd like to meet a Hot Air Man," said Ned, blowing on his hands to keep them from freezing. "I'd like to feel warm again."

"Well, then follow me!" cried the Gnome, and turning to a big rock he tapped upon it twice with the toe of his little red boot. In a moment a door opened, showing a pair of rocky steps leading down into the mountain.

"Be careful," admonished the Gnome, as he and Ned descended the rough flight. "Don't slip, for you might fall a long way."

Ned assured him he had no desire to fall, but that his feet were so numb he wasn't at all sure but what he might slip, no matter how hard he tried to be careful.

Although it was not exactly dark, at the same time the light was not sufficient for Ned to make out anything distinctly, and as the stairway was narrow and the walls dim he kept his eyes closely upon the ground.

Soon they came to a level corridor and he perceived a dim light in the distance. "Where are we going?" he asked. But at this point an iron door arrested their progress, and without pausing to answer, the Gnome took from his pocket a key. Inserting it in the lock, the door slowly swung open, and Ned heard the faint beating of a drum.

"Sit down," said the Gnome, drawing forward a wooden stool, much too small for Ned, but probably just the right size for a Gnome; "sit down and wait a moment while I go in search of the Gnomeland Band. I want you to hear them play, and I hear them practising now."

Ned glanced curiously around the strange place. It suddenly occurred to him that he was a long, long way from home. Here he was, deep down in the mountain, in a rocky cavern, sitting on a little Gnome stool, waiting for his friend to return. But what if he did not come back?

Ned's hair suddenly stood on end at the thought. Going over to the big iron door, he tried to turn the great knob, but his fingers either were not strong enough or he did not know the secret of the lock. Returning to his seat, he made up his mind to wait a while before allowing his fears to get the better of him. This is what every brave boy would do under the circumstances, he said to himself, resolving not to be a coward.

Presently he was relieved to hear music, as the Gnome, at the head of the Gnomeland Band, came into view; and the funniest band that Ned had ever seen. Why, each instrument was playing itself and dancing the Mountain Tango at the same time!

The big drum went "Bum, bum, bum, diddle dum," and pranced around on a pair of short, fat legs in red stockings. Two fat little arms beat the drumsticks on the top of his head, or what appeared to be the top of his head, which was in reality a funny face, which winked and blinked as the drumsticks traveled over the queer little features.

"Toot! toot!" went the big yellow horn, as his fat little fingers pressed in the brass stops that made the notes high or low, or soft or shrill. Over the floor he skipped, after the round, fat drum.