The Phantom Tollbooth

Like a giant corkscrew, the stairway twisted through the darkness, steep and narrow and with no rail to guide them. The wind howled cruelly in an effort to tear them loose, and the fog dragged clammy fingers down their backs; but up the giddy flight they went, each one helping the others, until at last the clouds parted, the darkness fell away, and a glow of golden sunrays warmed their arrival. The castle gate swung open smoothly. They entered the great hall on a rug as soft as a snowdrift and they stood shyly waiting.

“Come right in, please; we’ve been expecting you,” sang out two sweet voices in unison.

At the far end of the hall a silver curtain parted and two young women stepped forward. They were dressed all in white and were beautiful beyond compare. One was grave and quiet, with a look of warm understanding in her eyes, and the other seemed gay and joyful.

“You must be the Princess of Pure Reason,” said Milo, bowing to the first.

She answered simply, “Yes,” and that was just enough.

“Then you are Sweet Rhyme,” he said, with a smile to the other.

Her eyes sparkled brightly and she answered with a laugh as friendly as the mailman’s ring when you know there’s a letter for you.

“We’ve come to rescue you both,” Milo explained very seriously.

“And the demons are close behind,” said the worried Humbug, still shaky from his ordeal.

“And we should leave right away,” advised Tock.

“Oh, they won’t dare come up here,” said Reason gently; “and we’ll be down there soon enough.”

“Why not sit for a moment and rest?” suggested Rhyme. “I’m sure you must be tired. Have you been traveling long?”

“Days,” sighed the exhausted dog, curling up on a large downy cushion.

“Weeks,” corrected the bug, flopping into a deep comfortable armchair, for it did seem that way to him.

“It has been a long trip,” said Milo, climbing onto the couch where the princesses sat; “but we would have been here much sooner if I hadn’t made so many mistakes. I’m afraid it’s all my fault.”

“You must never feel badly about making mistakes,” explained Reason quietly, “as long as you take the trouble to learn from them. For you often learn more by being wrong for the right reasons than you do by being right for the wrong reasons.”

“But there’s so much to learn,” he said, with a thoughtful frown.

“Yes, that’s true,” admitted Rhyme; “but it’s not just learning things that’s important. It’s learning what to do with what you learn and learning why you learn things at all that matters.”

“That’s just what I mean,” explained Milo as Tock and the exhausted bug drifted quietly off to sleep. “Many of the things I’m supposed to know seem so useless that I can’t see the purpose in learning them at all.”

“You may not see it now,” said the Princess of Pure Reason, looking knowingly at Milo’s puzzled face, “but whatever we learn has a purpose and whatever we do affects everything and everyone else, if even in the tiniest way. Why, when a housefly flaps his wings, a breeze goes round the world; when a speck of dust falls to the ground, the entire planet weighs a little more; and when you stamp your foot, the earth moves slightly off its course. Whenever you laugh, gladness spreads like the ripples in a pond; and whenever you’re sad, no one anywhere can be really happy. And it’s much the same thing with knowledge, for whenever you learn something new, the whole world becomes that much richer.”

“And remember, also,” added the Princess of Sweet Rhyme, “that many places you would like to see are just off the map and many things you want to know are just out of sight or a little beyond your reach. But someday you’ll reach them all, for what you learn today, for no reason at all, will help you discover all the wonderful secrets of tomorrow.”

“I think I understand,” Milo said, still full of questions and thoughts; “but which is the most important——”

At that moment the conversation was interrupted by a far-off chopping noise. With each loud blow, the entire room and everything in it shook and rattled. Down below, on the murky peak, the demons were busily cutting the stairway loose with axes and hammers and saws. Before long the whole thing collapsed with a tremendous crash and the startled Humbug leaped to his feet just in time to see the castle drifting slowly off into space.

“We’re moving!” he shouted, which was a fact that had already become obvious to everyone.

“I think we had better leave now,” said Rhyme softly, and Reason agreed with a nod.

“But how will we get down?” groaned the Humbug, looking at the wreckage below. “There’s no stairway and we’re sailing higher every minute.”

“Well, time flies, doesn’t it?” asked Milo.

“On many occasions,” barked Tock, jumping eagerly to his feet. “I’ll take everyone down.”

“Can you carry us all?” inquired the bug.

“For a short distance,” said the dog thoughtfully. “The princesses can ride on my back, Milo can catch hold of my tail, and you can hang on to his ankles.”

“But what of the Castle in the Air?” the bug objected, not very pleased with the arrangement.