all four travelers experienced frightful dreams.
the traveling salesman, like the flowerseller, dreamed, as he often did, that he was back in school.
a low school for low boys, located at the edge of a barren moor.
there was only one classroom, and the salesman, as usual, found himself seated at the front of it, much as he would have preferred to sit in the back.
it was a dull day outside, getting on to sunset, with a steady wind rattling the school’s warped old windows.
his secondary tormentor - the sole teacher in the school, mr wickler , known familiarly to the boys as wickler the tckler - was standing in the front of the class with his great thundering birch rod, and an even more evil smile than usual on his thin white face.
“i have news to impart, young gentlemen, so listen carefully - yes, even you, chitworth, you little wretch - “ mr wickler paused and spread his wicked smile around the dusty, gloomy classroom.
“oh, please ,sir, do not torment us like with suspense.” exclaimed little rogers, the class clown and chief toady to bickenden, the alpha boy of the school and the salesman’s chief and relentless nemesis.
“you think it a joke, do you, rogers?” mr wickler waved his birch rod in the boy’s face. “will you think it a joke if i were to inform you that we are all faced with imminent obliteration, eh?”
“but, sir, “ piped rogers, “are we in fact faced with im - with imbunent obluggeration?” bickenden laughed his great hearty laugh at his jester’s witty mangling of the lnbguse, and the other boys chimed in.
“would it interest you to know, “ mr wickler continued, grinning balefully at rogers, “that the headmaster and his wife have decamped the premises, eh? decamped with their motor car, leaving us without transport here to face - to face a fate you can hardly imagine?”
“oh, out with it, man!” bickenden shouted from his throne in the back of the class. “what are you on about, by god?”
“what i am on about, mr dear bickenden, is a giant serpent - a giant serpent which has appeared on the moor and threatens to coil itself around the school and crush the life out of every living creature in it! what di you think of that. eh? do i have your attention now?”
suddenly the class was in uproar.
bickenden stood up in the back. “quiet!” he roared. “quiet, you whimpering milksops!” he strode to the front of the classroom .
“i am taking charge here,” bickenden announced. “wickler, you are dismissed. i will let you live, provided you keep your silly mouth shut. now,” he continued, turning to face the boys,” is a plan. we need to make a good plan, and stick to it.”
“yes!” cried the boys, “a plan! give us a plan bickenden!”
bickenden smiled benevolently. “my plan is not yet completely formed, “ he said, “but the first part is this - we need to give this serpent something - someone - to chew on and devour while we seek to make an escape. a sort of sacrifice, or diversion.”
“a splendid idea! “ cried a number of boys in unison.
“but who, bickenden?” asked rogers with an innocent air. “not, mr wickler?”
“no, i think we will save mr wickler in case we need a second diversion. for now -“ bickenden smiled and pointed at the salesman in the front row - “who but good old snively.”
“yes, snively, snively! snively against the world!”
bickenden chuckled. “indeed, good old snivelling snively. making himself useful for once in his life.”
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