diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 16348-8.txt | 3116 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 16348-8.zip | bin | 0 -> 60272 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 16348.txt | 3116 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 16348.zip | bin | 0 -> 60272 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 |
7 files changed, 6248 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/16348-8.txt b/16348-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8d5064e --- /dev/null +++ b/16348-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3116 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Dreamland, by Julie M. Lippmann + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Dreamland + + +Author: Julie M. Lippmann + + + +Release Date: July 23, 2005 [eBook #16348] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DREAMLAND*** + + +E-text prepared by Al Haines + + + +DREAMLAND + +by + +JULIE M. LIPPMANN + +Author of "Miss Wildfire," "Dorothy Day," etc. + +The Penn Publishing Company +Philadelphia + +MCMXIV + + + + + + + +TO + +LULU AND MARIE. + + + + + CONTENTS. + + THE WAKING SOUL + BETTY'S BY-AND-BY + THE WHITE ANGEL + IN THE PIED PIPER'S MOUNTAIN + MARJORIE'S MIRACLE + WHAT HAPPENED TO LIONEL + MARIE AND THE MEADOW-BROOK + NINA'S CHRISTMAS GIFTS + + + + +DREAMLAND. + +THE WAKING SOUL + +Larry lay under the trees upon the soft, green grass, with his hat +tilted far forward over his eyes and his grimy hands clasped together +beneath his head, wishing with all his might first one thing and then +another, but always that it was not so warm. + +When the children had gone to school in the morning, they had seen +Larry's figure, as they passed along the street, stretched out +full-length beneath the trees near the gutter curbstone; and when they +returned, there he was still. They looked at him with curiosity; and +some of the boys even paused beside him and bent over to see if he were +sunstruck. He let them talk about him and discuss him and wonder at +him as they would, never stirring, and scarcely daring to breathe, lest +they be induced to stay and question him. He wanted to be alone. He +wanted to lie lazily under the trees, and watch the sunbeams as they +flirted with the leaves, and hear the birds gossip with one another, +and feel the breeze as it touched his hot temples and soothed him with +its soft caresses. + +Across the street, upon some one's fence-rail, climbed a honeysuckle +vine; and every now and then Larry caught a whiff of a faint perfume as +the breeze flitted by. He wished the breeze would carry heavier loads +of it and come oftener. It was tantalizing to get just one breath and +no more in this way. + +But then, that was always the case with Larry; he seemed to get a hint +of so many things, and no more than that of any. Often when he was +lying as he was now, under green trees, beneath blue skies, he would +see the most beautiful pictures before his eyes. Sometimes they were +the clouds that drew them for him, and sometimes the trees. He would, +perhaps, be feeling particularly forlorn and tired, and would fling +himself down to rest, and then in a moment--just for all the world as +though the skies were sorry for him and wanted to help him forget his +troubles--he would see the white drifts overhead shift and change, and +there would be the vision of a magnificent man larger and more +beautiful than any mortal; and then Larry would hold his breath in +ecstasy, while the man's face grew graver and darker, and his strong +arm seemed to lift and beckon to something from afar, and then from out +a great stack of clouds would break one milk-white one which, when +Larry looked closer, would prove to be a colossal steed; and in an +instant, in the most remarkable way, the form of the man would be +mounted upon the back of the courser and then would be speeding off +toward the west. And then Larry would lose sight of them, just at the +very moment when he would have given worlds to see more; for by this +time the skies would have grown black, perhaps, and down would come the +rain in perfect torrents, sending Larry to his feet and scuttling off +into somebody's area-way for shelter. And there he would crouch and +think about his vision, fancying to himself his great warrior doing +battle with the sea; the sea lashing up its wave-horses till they rose +high upon their haunches, their gray backs curving outward, their foamy +manes a-quiver, their white forelegs madly pawing the air, till with a +wild whinny they would plunge headlong upon the beach, to be pierced by +the thousand rain-arrows the cloud-god sent swirling down from above, +and sink backward faint and trembling to be overtaken and trampled out +of sight by the next frenzied column behind. + +Oh! it sent Larry's blood tingling through his veins to see it all so +plainly; and he did not feel the chill of his wet rags about him, nor +the clutch of hunger in his poor, empty stomach, when the Spirit of the +Storm rode out, before his very eyes, to wage his mighty war. And then +at other times it would all be quite different, and he would see the +figures of beautiful maidens in gossamer garments, and they would seem +to be at play, flinging flecks of sunlight this way and that, or +winding and unwinding their flaky veils to fling them saucily across +the face of the sun. + +But none of these wondrous visions lasted. They remained long enough +to wake in Larry's heart a great longing for more, and then they would +disappear and he would be all the lonelier for the lack of them. That +was the greatest of his discouragements. What would he care for heat +or cold or hunger or thirst if he could only capture these fleeting +pictures once for all, so that he could always gaze at them and dream +over them and make them his forever! + +That was one of the things for which Larry was wishing as he lay under +the trees that summer day. He was thinking: "If there was _only_ some +way of getting them down from there! It seems to me I 'd do anything +in the world to be able to get them down from there. I--." + +"No, you would n't," said a low voice next his ear,--"no, you would +n't. You 'd lie here and wish and wonder all day long, but you would +n't take the first step to bring your pictures down from heaven." + +For a moment Larry was so mightily surprised that he found himself +quite at a loss for words, for there was no one near to be seen who +could possibly have addressed him; but presently he gained voice to +say,-- + +"Oh, I know I could n't get 'em o' course. Folks can't reach up and +bring clouds down out o' de sky." + +"I did n't say anything about clouds nor about the sky," returned the +voice. "I was speaking about pictures and heaven. Folks can reach up +and bring pictures down out of heaven. It's done every day. Geniuses +do it." + +"Who is geniuses?" asked untaught Larry. + +"People who can get near enough heaven to catch glimpses of its +wonderful beauty and paint it on canvas or carve it in marble for the +world to see, or who hear snatches of its music and set them upon paper +for the world to hear; and they are called artists and sculptors and +composers and poets." + +"What takes 'em up to heaven?" queried Larry. + +"Inspiration," answered the voice. + +"I don't know o' that. I never seen it," the boy returned. "Is it +death?" + +"No; it is life. But you would n't understand if I could explain it, +which I cannot. No one understands it. But it is there just the same. +You have it, but you do not know how to use it yet. You never will +unless you do something besides lie beneath the trees and dream. Why +can't you do something?" + +"Oh, I'm tired with all the things I 'm not doin'!" said Larry, in his +petulant, whimsical way. + +For a little the voice was silent, and Larry was beginning to fear it +had fled and deserted him like all the rest; when it spoke again, in +its low-toned murmur, like the breath of a breeze, and said,-- + +"It is cruel to make a good wish and then leave it to wander about the +world weak and struggling; always trying to be fulfilled and never +succeeding because it is not given strength enough. It makes a +nameless want in the world, and people's hearts ache for it and long to +be satisfied. They somehow feel there is somewhere a blessing that +might be blesseder, a beauty that should be more beautiful. It is then +that the little unfledged wish is near, and they feel its longing to be +made complete,--to be given wings and power to rise to heaven. Yes; +one ought not to make a good wish and let it go,--not to perish (for +nothing is lost in this world), but to be unfulfilled forever. One +ought to strengthen it day by day until it changes from a wish to an +endeavor, and then day by day from an endeavor to an achievement, and +then the world is better for it and glad of it, and its record goes +above. If all the people who wish to do wonderful things did them, how +blessed it would be! If all the people who wish to be good were good, +ah, then there would be no more disappointment nor tears nor heartache +in the world!" + +Larry pondered an instant after the voice had ceased, and then said +slowly: "I _kind_ o' think I know what you mean. You think I 'd ought +to be workin'. But what could I do? There ain't nothin' I could be +doin'." + +"Did n't I hear you complaining of me a little while ago, because I did +not carry heavy enough loads of honeysuckle scent and did not come +often enough? I carried all I was able to bear, for I am not very +strong nowadays, and I came as often as I could. In fact, I did my +best the first thing that came to hand. I want you to do the same. +That is duty. I don't bear malice toward you because you were +dissatisfied with me. You did not know. If you tried the best you +could and people complained, you ought not to let their discontent +discourage you. I brought you a whiff of perfume; you can bring some +one a sincere effort. By and by, when I am stronger and can blow good +gales and send the great ships safely into port and waft to land the +fragrant smell of their spicy cargo, you may be doing some greater work +and giving the world something it has been waiting for." + +"The world don't wait for things," said Larry. "It goes right on; it +does n't care. I 'm hungry and ragged, and I have n't no place to +sleep; but the world ain't a-waitin' fer me ter get things ter eat, ner +clo'es to me back, ner a soft bed. It ain't a-waiting fer nothin', as +I can see." + +"It does not stand still," replied the voice; "but it is waiting, +nevertheless. If you are expecting a dear, dear person--your mother, +for instance--" + +"I ain't got no mother," interrupted Larry, with a sorrowful sigh; "she +died." + +"Well, then--your sister," suggested the voice. + +"I ain't got no sister. I ain't got nobody. I 'm all by meself," +insisted the boy. + +"Then suppose, for years and years you have been dreaming of a friend +who is to fill your world with beauty as no one else could do,--who +among all others in the world will be the only one who could show you +how fair life is. While you would not stand still and do nothing what +time you were watching for her coming, you would be always waiting for +her, and when she was there you would be glad. That is how the world +feels about its geniuses,--those whom it needs to make it more +wonderful and great. It is waiting for you. Don't disappoint it. It +would make you sad unto death if the friend of whom you had dreamed +should not come at last, would it not?" + +Larry nodded his head in assent. "Does it always know 'em?" he asked. +"I mean does the world always be sure when the person comes, it 's the +one it dreamed of? Mebbe I'd be dreamin' of some one who was +beautiful, and mebbe the real one would n't look like what I thought, +and I 'd let her go by." + +"Ah, little Lawrence, the world has failed so too. It has let its +beloved ones go by; and then, when it was too late, it has called after +them in pleading to return. They never come back, but the world keeps +repeating their names forever. That is its punishment and their fame." + +"What does it need me for?" asked Larry. + +"It needs you to paint for it the pictures you see amid the clouds and +on the earth." + +"Can't they see 'em?" queried the boy. + +"No, not as you can. Their sight is not clear enough. God wants them +to know of it, and so He sends them you to make it plain to them. It +is as though you went to a foreign country where the people's speech +was strange to you. You could not know their meaning unless some one +who understood their language and yours translated it for you. He +would be the only one who could make their meaning clear to you. He +would be an interpreter." + +"How am I to get that thing you spoke about that 'd take me up to +heaven, so's I could bring down the beautiful things I see?" inquired +Larry. "Where is it?" + +"Inspiration?" asked the voice. "That is everywhere,--all about you, +within and without you. You have only to pray to be given sight clear +enough to see it and power to use it. But now I must leave you. I +have given you my message; give the world yours. Good-by, Lawrence, +good-by;" and the voice had ceased. + +Larry stretched out his hands and cried, "Come back, oh, come back!" + +But the echo of his own words was all he heard in response. He lay +quite motionless and still for some time after that, thinking about all +the voice had said to him, and when finally he pushed his hat back from +before his eyes, he saw the starlit sky smiling down upon him +benignantly. And then, from behind a dark cloud he saw the radiant +moon appear, and it seemed to him like the most beautiful woman's face +he could imagine, peering out from the shadow of her own dusky hair to +welcome the night. + +He got upon his feet as well as he could, for he was very stiff with +lying so long, and stumbled on toward some dark nook or cranny where he +could huddle unseen until the morning; his head full of plans for the +morrow, and his heart beating high with courage and hope. + +He would dream no more, but labor. He would work at the first thing +that came to hand, and then, perhaps, that wonderful thing which the +voice had called inspiration would come to him, and he would be able to +mount to heaven on it and bring down to earth some of the glorious +things he saw. He thought inspiration must be some sort of a magical +ladder, that was invisible to all but those given special sight to see +and power to use it. If he ever caught a glimpse of it he intended to +take hold at once and climb straight up to the blessed regions above; +and dreaming of all he would see there, he fell asleep. + +In the morning he was awake bright and early, and stretching himself +with a long-drawn yawn, set out to find some way of procuring for +himself a breakfast. First at one shop-door and then at another he +stopped, popping in his shaggy head and asking the man inside, "Give me +a job, Mister?" and being in reply promptly invited to "clear out!" + +But it took more than this to discourage Larry, heartened as he was by +the remembrance of his visions of the day before; and on and on he +went, until, at last, in answer to his question--and just as he was +about to withdraw his head from the door of the express-office into +which he had popped it a moment before--he was bidden to say what it +was he could do. Almost too surprised at the change in greeting to be +able to reply, he stumbled back into the place and stood a moment in +rather stupid silence before his questioner. + +"Well, ain't yer got no tongue in yer head, young feller? Seemed ter +have a minute ago. Ef yer can't speak up no better 'n this, yer ain't +the boy fer us." + +But by this time Larry had recovered himself sufficiently to blurt out: +"I kin lift an' haul an' run errants an' do all sorts o' work about the +place. Won't ye try me, Mister? Lemme carry out that box ter show ye +how strong I am;" and suiting the action to the words, he shouldered a +heavy packing-case and was out upon the sidewalk and depositing it upon +a wagon, already piled with trunks and luggage, before the man had time +to reply. + +When he returned to the door-step he was greeted with the grateful +intelligence that he might stay a bit and see how he got along as an +errand-boy if he liked; and, of course, _liking_, he started in at once +upon his new office. + +That was the beginning. It gave him occupation and, food, but scarcely +more than that at first. He had no time for dreaming now, but often +when he had a brief moment to himself would take out of his pocket the +piece of chalk with which he marked the trunks he carried, and sketch +with it upon some rough box-lid or other the picture of a face or form +which he saw in his fancy; so that after a time he was known among the +men as "the artist feller," and grew to have quite a little reputation +among them. + +How the rest came about even Larry himself found it hard to tell. But +by and by he was drawing with pencil and pen, and selling his sketches +for what he could get, buying now a brush and then some paints with the +scanty proceeds, and working upon his bits of canvas with all the ardor +of a Raphael himself. + + +A man sat before an easel in a crowded studio one day, give the last +touch to a painting that stood before him. It pictured the figure of a +lad, ragged and forlorn, lying asleep beneath some sheltering trees. +At first that seems all there was to be seen upon the canvas; but if +one looked closer one was able to discover another figure amid the +vaporous, soft glooms of the place. It grew ever more distinct, until +one had no difficulty in distinguishing the form of a maiden, fair and +frail as a dream. She was bending over the slumbering body of the boy, +as if to arouse him to life by the whispered words she was breathing +against his cheek. + +The artist scrawled his signature in the corner of his completed work +and set the canvas in its frame, and then stood before it, scrutinizing +it closely. + +"'The Waking Soul!'--I wonder if that is a good name for it?" murmured +he to himself. And then, after a moment, he said to the pictured lad,-- + +"Well, Larry, little fellow, the dream's come true; and here we are, +you and I,--you, Larry, and I, Lawrence,--with the 'wish grown strong +to an endeavor, and the endeavor to an achievement.' Are you glad, +Boy?" + + + + +BETTY'S BY-AND-BY. + + "'One, two, three! + The humble-bee! + The rooster crows, + And away she goes!'" + + +And down from the low railing of the piazza jumped Betty into the soft +heap of new-mown grass that seemed to have been especially placed where +it could tempt her and make her forget--or, at least, "not +remember"--that she was wanted indoors to help amuse the baby for an +hour. + +It was a hot summer day, and Betty had been running and jumping and +skipping and prancing all the morning, so she was now rather tired; and +after she had jumped from the piazza-rail into the heap of grass she +did not hop up nimbly at once, but lay quite still, burying her face in +the sweet-smelling hay and fragrant clover, feeling very comfortable +and contented. + +"Betty! Betty!" + +"Oh dear!" thought the little maid, diving still deeper into the light +grass, "there's Olga calling me to take care of Roger while she gets +his bread and milk ready. I don't see why she can't wait a minute till +I rest. It's too hot now. Baby can do without his dinner for a +minute, I should think,--just a minute or so. He won't mind. He 's +glad to wait if only you give him Mamma's chain and don't take away her +watch. Ye-es, Olga,--I 'll come--by and by." + +A big velvety humble-bee came, boom! against Betty's head, and got +tangled in her hair. He shook himself free and went reeling on his way +in quite a drunken fashion, thinking probably that was a very +disagreeable variety of dandelion he had stumbled across,--quite too +large and fluffy for comfort, though it was such a pretty yellow. + +Betty lazily raised her head and peered after him. "I wonder where +you're going," she said, half aloud. + +The humble-bee veered about and came bouncing back in her direction +again, and when he reached the little grass-heap in which she lay, +stopped so suddenly that he went careering over in the most ridiculous +fashion possible, and Betty laughed aloud. But to her amazement the +humble-bee righted himself in no time at all, and then remarked in +quite a dignified manner and with some asperity,-- + +"If I were a little girl with gilt hair and were n't doing what I +ought, and if I had wondered where a body was going and the body had +come back expressly to tell me, I think I 'd have the politeness not to +laugh if the body happened to lose his balance and fall,--especially +when the body was going to get up in less time than it would take me to +wink,--I being only a little girl, and he being a most respected member +of the Busy-bee Society. However, I suppose one must make allowances +for the way in which children are brought up nowadays. When I was a +little--" + +"Now, _please_ don't say, 'When I was a little girl,'--for you never +were a little girl, you know," interrupted Betty, not intending to be +saucy, but feeling rather provoked that a mere humble-bee should +undertake to rebuke her. "Mamma always says, 'When I was a little +girl,' and so does Aunt Louie, and so does everybody; and I 'm tired of +hearing about it, so there!" + +The humble-bee gave his gorgeous waistcoat a pull which settled it more +smoothly over his stout person, and remarked shortly,-- + +"In the first place, I was n't going to say, 'When I was a little +girl.' I was going to say, 'When I was a little _leaner_,' but you +snapped me up so. However, it's true, isn't it? Everybody was a +little girl once, were n't she?--was n't they?--hem!--confusing weather +for talking, very! And what is true one ought to be glad to hear, eh?" + +"But it is n't true that everybody was once a little girl; some were +little boys. There!" + +"Do you know," whispered the humble-bee, in a very impressive +undertone, as if it were a secret that he did not wish any one else to +hear, "that you are a very re-mark-a-ble young person to have been able +to remind me, at a moment's notice, that some were little boys? +Why-ee!" + +Betty was a trifle uncomfortable. She had a vague idea the humble-bee +was making sport of her. The next moment she was sure of it; for he +burst into a deep laugh, and shook so from side to side that she +thought he would surely topple off the wisp of hay on which he was +sitting. + +"I think you 're real mean," said Betty, as he slowly recovered +himself; "I don't like folks to laugh at me, now!" + +"I 'm not laughing at you _now_," explained the humble-bee, gravely; "I +was laughing at you _then_. Do you object to that?" + +Betty disdained to reply, and began to pull a dry clover-blossom to +pieces. + +"Tut, tut, child! Don't be so touchy! A body can laugh, can't he, and +no harm done? You 'd better be good-tempered and jolly, and then I 'll +tell you where I 'm going,--which, I believe, was what you wished to +know in the first place, was n't it?" + +Betty nodded her head, but did not speak. + +"Oho!" said the humble-bee, rising and preparing to take his departure. +And now Betty discovered, on seeing him more closely, that he was not a +humble-bee at all, but just a very corpulent old gentleman dressed in +quite an antique fashion, with black knee-breeches, black silk +stockings, black patent-leather pumps with large buckles, a most +elaborate black velvet waistcoat with yellow and orange stripes across, +and a coat of black velvet to correspond with the breeches; while in +his hand he carried a very elegant three-cornered hat, which, out of +respect to her, he had removed from his head at the first moment of +their meeting. "So we are sulky?" he went on. "Dear, dear! That is a +very disagreeable condition to allow one's self to relapse into. H'm, +h'm! very unpleasant, very! Under the circumstances I think I 'd +better be going; for if you 'll believe me, I 'm pressed for time, and +have none to waste, and only came back to converse with you because you +addressed a civil question to me, which, being a gentleman, I was bound +to answer. Good--" + +He would have said "by;" but Betty sprang to her feet and cried: +"Please don't leave me. I 'll be good and pleasant, only please don't +go. _Please_ tell me where you 're going, and if--if you would be so +good, I 'd like ever and ever so much to go along. Don't--do--may I?" + +The little gentleman looked her over from head to foot, and then +replied in a hesitating sort of way: "You may not be aware of it, but +you are extremely incautious. What would you do if I were to whisk you +off and never bring you back, eh?" + +"You don't look like a kidnapper, sir," said Betty, respectfully. + +"A what?" inquired the little gentleman. + +"A kidnapper," repeated Betty. + +"What's that?" questioned her companion. + +"Oh, a person who steals little children. Don't you know?" + +"But why _kidnapper_?" insisted the little old man. + +"I suppose because he naps kids. My uncle Will calls Roger and me +'kids.' It is n't very nice of him, is it?" she asked, glad to air her +grievance. + +"Child-stealer would be more to the point, I think, or +infant-abductor," remarked the old gentleman, who saw, perhaps, how +anxious Betty was for sympathy, and was determined not to give her +another opportunity of considering herself injured. + +He seemed to be very busy considering the subject for a second or so, +and then he said suddenly: "But if you want to go, why, come along, for +I must be off. But don't make a practice of it, mind, when you get +back." + +"You have n't told me where yet," suggested Betty. + +"True; so I have n't," said the old gentleman, setting his +three-cornered hat firmly on his head and settling the fine laces at +his wrists. "It's to By-and-by. And now, if you 're ready, off we go!" + +He took Betty's hand, and she suddenly found herself moving through the +air in a most remarkable manner,--not touching the ground with her +feet, but seeming to skim along quite easily and with no effort at all. + +"If you please, Mr.--" She paused because she suddenly remembered that +she did not know the name of the gentleman who was conducting her on so +delightful a journey. + +"Bombus," said he, cheerfully,--"B. Bombus, Esq., of Clovertop Manse, +Honeywell." + +"But you 're not a minister, are you?" inquired Betty. + +"No; why?" returned the gentleman, quickly. + +"Because you said 'Manse.' A manse is a minister's house, is n't it?" +asked Betty. + +"No, not always," Bombus replied. "But I call my place Clovertop Manse +because it belongs to me and not to my wife, do you see? I call it +Manse because it _is_ a man's. It is perfectly plain. If it was a +woman's, I 'd say so." + +"Well, I don't think you 're much of a _humble_-bee--" began Betty, and +then caught herself up short and stopped. + +Mr. Bombus gave her a severe look from under his three-cornered hat, +but did not reply at once, and they advanced on their way for some +little time in silence. Then the gentleman said: + +"I 've been thinking of what you said about my not being a humble-bee. +Of course I am not a humble-bee, but you seemed to lay considerable +stress on the first part of the word, as if you had a special meaning. +Explain!" + +Poor Betty blushed very red with shame and confusion; but the gentleman +had a commanding way with him and she dared not disobey. + +"I only meant, sir," she stammered,--"I only meant--I--did n't think +you were very humble, because you seemed very proud about the place +being yours. I thought you were 'stuck up,' as my brother says." + +"Stuck up? Where?" queried Mr. Bombus, anxiously. "Pray don't make +such unpleasant insinuations. They quite set my heart to throbbing. +I knew--I mean I saw a humble-bee once," he remarked impressively, "and +would you believe it, a little boy caught him and impaled him on a pin. +It was horrible. He died in the most dreadful agony,--the bee, not the +boy,--and then the boy secured him to the wall; made him fast there. +So he was stuck up. You surely can't mean--" + +"Oh, no, indeed! I meant only proud," replied Betty, contritely; for +Mr. Bombus's face had really grown pale with horror at the remembrance +of the bee's awful fate, and she was very sorry she had occasioned him +such discomfort. + +"Then why did n't you say only 'proud'?" asked her companion, sharply. +"You said 'proud,' and then added 'stuck up.'" + +Betty thought it was about time to change the subject, so she observed +quietly that By-and-by seemed a long way off. + +"Of course it is a long way off," replied her companion. "Don't you +wish it to be a long way off?" + +Betty hesitated. "Well, I don't think I ever wished much about it. +Can you tell me how many miles it is from some place I know about? You +see, Mr. Bombus, I am pretty sure it is n't in the geography. At +least, I don't remember that I ever saw it on the map. Could n't you +tell me where it is?" + +Mr. Bombus considered a moment, And then asked, "Do you know where Now +is?" + +Betty thought a minute, and then replied, "I suppose it is Here, sir." + +"Right!" assented the old gentleman, promptly. "Now, if you had said +There, it would have been wrong; for Then is There. You see, this is +the way: When we have lived in Now until it is all used up, it changes +into Then, and, instead of being Here, is There. I hope it's plain to +you. Well, you asked me where By-and-by was. That 's the very thing +about it: it never was, not even _is_; it's always _going to be_, and +it's generally a rather long way from Now; so, if you know where Now +is, you can make your own calculations as to the distance of By-and-by." + +"But I don't know anything about calculating distances," said Betty, +dolefully. + +"It does n't matter," remarked Mr. Bombus; "for even if you did you +could n't apply it in this case. But we 're getting on in our journey. +Yes, indeed, we seem to be really getting on." + +"Why, I should hope so!" returned Betty. "It seems to me I never flew +so fast in all my life before and for such a long time. If we were n't +getting on, I think I should be discouraged. We seem to be almost +running a race, we go so quickly." + +"We are running a race," observed Mr. Bombus. + +Betty opened her eyes wide and said: "Why, _I_ did n't know it. When +did we begin?" + +"When we started, Child. Pray, don't be stupid!" replied her friend, a +little severely. + +"But with whom are we running it?" queried Betty. + +"With Time," whispered Mr. Bombus, confidentially. "One always has to +beat him before one can get to By-and-by. And then it depends on one's +self whether one likes it or not after one gets there." + +But even as he spoke Betty seemed to feel herself hurried along more +rapidly than ever, as if she were making a final effort to outstrip +some one; and then she was brought to so sudden a standstill that she +had to do her best to keep from falling forward, and was still quite +dizzy with her effort when she heard a panting voice say, "That last +rush quite took away my breath!" and found herself being addressed by +Mr. Bombus, who was very red in the face and gasping rather painfully, +and whom she had, for the moment, forgotten. + +Betty said: "My, Mr. Bombus, how warm you are! Sit right down on the +grass and cool off before we go any farther, please." + +"Oh, dear, no!" objected her companion. "That would be terribly +imprudent, with these cold autumn winds blowing so; and winter just +over there. I 'd catch my death, Child." + +"Why, I 'm sure," replied Betty, "I don't know what you mean. It's as +summer as it can be. It's a hot August day, and if you can't sit +outdoors in August, I 'd like to know when you can." + +"Allow me to inform you, my dear child, that it isn't August at all; +and if you had half an eye you 'd see it, let alone feel it. Do these +leaves look as if it were August?" and he pointed to a clump of trees +whose foliage shone red and yellow in the sunlight. + +Betty started. "Good gracious!" she exclaimed. "How came they to +change so early?" + +"It _is n't_ early," explained Mr. Bombus. "It's the last of +October,--even later,--and keeps getting more so every minute." + +"But," insisted Betty, "it was August when I first saw you, a few hours +ago, and--" + +"Yes, _then_ it was August," assented Mr. Bombus; "but we 've got +beyond that. We 're in By-and-by. Did n't you hear your mother say it +would be October by and by, and it _is_ October. Time is jogging on, +back there in the world; but we beat him, you see, and are safe and +sound--far ahead of him--in By-and-by. Things are being done here that +are always _going_ to be done behind there. It's great fun." + +But at these words Betty's face grew very grave, and a sudden thought +struck her that was anything but "great fun." Would she be set to +doing all the things she had promised to do "by and by"? + +"I 'm afraid so," said Mr. Bombus, replying to her question though she +had only _thought_ it. "I told you it depended on one's self if one +were going to like By-and-by or not. Evidently you 're _not_. Oh! +going so soon? You must have been a lazy little girl to be set about +settling your account as quick as this. See you later! Good--" + +But again he was not permitted to say "by," for before he could fairly +get the word out, Betty was whisked away, and Mr. Bombus stood solitary +and alone under a bare maple-tree, chuckling to himself in an amused +fashion and, it must be confessed, in a spiteful. + +"It 'll be a good lesson for her. She deserves it," he said to +himself; and Betty seemed to hear him, though she was by this time far +away. + +Poor child! she did not know where she was going nor what would take +place next, and was pretty well frightened at feeling herself powerless +to do anything against the unknown force that was driving her on. + +But even while she was wondering she ceased to wonder; and what was +going to happen had happened, and she found herself standing in an +enormous hall that was filled with countless children, of all ages and +nationalities,--and some who were not children at all,--every one of +whom was hurrying to and fro and in and out, while all the time a voice +from somewhere was calling out names and dates in such rapid succession +that Betty was fairly deafened with the sound. There was a continual +stir in the assembly, and people were appearing and reappearing +constantly in the most perplexing manner, so that it made one quite +dizzy to look on. But Betty was not permitted to look long, for in the +midst of the haranguing of the dreadful voice she seemed to distinguish +something that sounded strangely familiar. + +"Betty Bleecker," it called, "began her account here when she was five +years old by the World calculation. Therefore she has the undone +duties of seven years--World count--to perform. Let her set about +paying off her debt at once, and stop only when the account is +squared;" whereupon Betty was again whisked off, and had not even time +to guess where, before she found herself in a place that reminded her +strangely of home and yet was not home at all. Then a wearisome round +of tasks began. + +She picked up pins, she opened doors, she shut windows, she raised +shades, she closed shutters, she ran errands, she delivered messages, +she practised scales, she studied lessons, she set her doll-house in +order and replaced her toys, she washed her face and brushed her hair, +she picked currants and stoned raisins, she hung up her skipping-rope +and fastened her sash; and so she went on from one thing to another +until she was almost ready to cry with weariness and fatigue. Half the +things she did she had forgotten she had ever promised to do. But she +had sent them into By-and-by, and here they were to be done, and do +them she must. On and on she went, until after a while the tasks she +had to perform began to gain a more familiar look, and she recognized +them as being unkept promises of quite a recent date. She dusted her +room, she darned her stockings, she mended her apron, she fed her bird, +she wrote a letter, she read her Bible; and at last, after an endless +space and when tears of real anguish were coursing down her cheeks, she +found herself amusing the baby, and discovered that she had come to the +last of her long line of duties and was cancelling her debt to +By-and-by. + +As soon as all was finished she felt herself being hurried, still +sobbing and crying, back to the place from which she had started, and +on entering heard the same voice she had listened to before, say,-- + +"Betty Bleecker's account is squared. Let a receipted bill be given +her; advise her to run up no more accounts, and send her home." + +At these words Betty wept afresh, but not now from sorrow, but from +gladness at the thought of returning home. And before she could even +realize it, she was standing beside Mr. Bombus again, with something in +her hand which she clutched tightly and which proved to be a signed +receipt for her debt to By-and-by. Then she heard her companion say,-- + +"Like to look about a bit before you leave? By-and-by's a busy place; +don't you think so?" + +And Betty replied promptly, "Oh, no, sir--yes, sir--not at all, sir--if +you please, sir;" quite too frantic at the thought of having to go +back, even for a moment, to answer the questions. + +But all the while she was very angry with Mr. Bombus for bringing her +there, quite forgetting she had pleaded with him to do so; and his +smiling at her in that very superior fashion provoked her sadly, and +she began upbraiding him, between her sobs and tears, for his +unkindness and severity. + +"It would only have been harder in the end," replied her companion, +calmly. "Now you 've paid them and can take care not to run up any +more debts; for, mark my words, you 'll have to square your account +every time, and the longer it runs the worse it will be. Nothing in +the world, in the way of responsibility, ever goes scot-free. You have +to pay in one way or another for everything you do or leave undone, and +the sooner you know it the better." + +Betty was sobbing harder than ever, and when she thought she caught a +triumphant gleam in Mr. Bombus's eyes and heard him humming in an +aggravating undertone, "In the Sweet By-and-by," she could restrain +herself no longer, but raised her hand and struck him a sounding blow. +Instantly she was most deeply repentant, and would have begged his +pardon; but as she turned to address him, his cocked hat flew off, his +legs doubled up under him, his eyes rolled madly, and then with a +fierce glare at her he roared in a voice of thunder: "BET-TY!" + +And there she was in the soft grass-heap, sobbing with fright and +clutching tightly in her hand a fistful of straw; while yonder in the +wistaria-vine a humble-bee was settling, and a voice from the house was +heard calling her name: + +"Betty! BET-TY!" + + + + +THE WHITE ANGEL + +Once upon a time there lived in a far country a man and his wife, and +they were very poor. Every morning the man went his way into the +forest, and there he chopped wood until the sky in the west flushed +crimson because of the joy it felt at having the great sun pass that +way; and when the last rim of the red ball disappeared behind the line +of the hills, the man would shoulder his ax and trudge wearily home. + +In the mean time the wife went about in the little hut, making it clean +and neat, and perhaps singing as she worked,--for she was a cheery soul. + +Well, one day--perhaps it was because she was very tired and worn; I do +not know--but one day she sat down by the door of her hut, and was just +about to begin sewing on some rough piece of hempen cloth she had in +her lap, when, lo! she fell asleep. + +Now, this was very strange indeed, and even in her dream she seemed to +wonder at herself and say: "I have never slept in the daytime before. +What can it mean? What will Hans think of me if he should come home +and find me napping in the doorway and his supper not ready for him, +nor the table spread?" + +But by and by she ceased to wonder at all, and just sat leaning against +the door-frame, breathing softly, like a little child that is dreaming +sweet dreams. + +But presently the trees of the forest began to bow their heads, and the +wind chanted low and sweet, as though in praise; the sun shot a golden +beam along the foot-path, and made it glitter and shine, and then a +wonderful silence seemed to fall on the place, and before her stood an +angel, white-robed and beautiful. He said no word, but stretched out +his arms to her and would have taken her to his heart, but that she +cried out with a great fear,-- + +"Ah, no! not yet; I cannot go yet. I am young, and life is sweet. I +cannot give it up. Do not take me yet!" and she fell at his feet. + +The angel smiled sadly and said: "Be it so, then. I will not take, I +will give. But bemoan thou not thy choice when the life thou deemest +so sweet seems but bitter, and thy load more heavy than thou canst +bear. I will come once again;" and smiling down upon her, he was gone. + +With a great cry she rose; for the light that shone all about the angel +seemed to make many things clear to her, and she would have been glad +to do his will, but it was now too late. + +The tree-tops were motionless again, the wind had ceased its chanting, +the sun had withdrawn its wondrous light, and along the worn little +foot-path came Hans with his ax upon his shoulder. She said nothing to +him about her dream, for she was afraid; but she got his supper for +him, and when the stars had slipped out from behind the spare clouds, +he had dropped to sleep and left her to lie awake gazing at them +silently until each one seemed to smile at her with the smile of an +angel, and then it was morning, and she had slept, after all, and the +sun was shining. + +After that Christina was always busy preparing for the gift the angel +had promised her, and she sang gayly from morning till night, and was +very glad. + +So the months rolled along, and the memory of her dream had almost +faded from Christina's mind. Then one day a strange sound was heard in +the little hut,--the sound of a baby's crying. Hans heard it as he +came along, and it made his eyes shine with gladness. He hastened his +steps, and smiled to himself as he thought of his joy in having a +little child to fondle and caress. + +But at the door he paused, for he heard another sound besides that of +the baby's voice. It was Christina's, and she was weeping bitterly. + +In a moment he was beside her, and then he knew. There he lay,--their +little son. The angel's gift,--a wee cripple. Not a bone in all his +little body was straight and firm. Only his eyes were strangely +beautiful, and now they were filled with tears. + +"It were better he had died, and thou, also, Christina," sobbed Hans. +"It were better we had all three died before this sorrow was brought +upon us." But Christina only wept. + +So the years went by, and the baby lived and grew. It was always in +pain, but it seldom cried; and Christina could not be impatient when +she saw how uncomplaining the little child was. + +When he was old enough she told him what she never told any one +before,--the story of the angel; and his eyes were more beautiful than +ever when she wept because she could not suffer it all alone, but must +see him suffer too. And while Hans scarcely noticed the boy, Christina +spent all her time thinking of him and teaching him, and together they +prayed to the white angel to bless them. + +But as the years went on many men came to the forest and felled the +trees, not with axes but with huge saws; and so Hans was turned away, +for no one wanted a wood-chopper now. And so they were in great +trouble; and Hans grew rough and ill-tempered, and did not try to use +the saw, nor would he ask the men to let him work. He would only stand +idly by, and often Christina thought the blessings she prayed for were +turned to curses; but she never told the child her sorrow, and still +they prayed on to the white angel to bless them. When Christina saw +Hans would really do no work, she said no more, but sewed and spun for +the men about who had no wives, and in this way she earned enough to +buy food and wood. It was very little she could earn, and she often +grew impatient at the sight of Hans smoking idly in the doorway; but +when she said a hasty word the boy's eyes seemed to grow big with a +deep trouble, and she would check herself and work on in silence. But +the more she worked, the idler grew Hans and the more ill-tempered; and +he would laugh when he heard them pray to the angel to bless them. +Instead of blessings new sorrow seemed to be born every day; for Hans +was injured by a falling tree, and was brought home with both his legs +crushed, and laid helpless and moaning on the rough bed. + +These were weary days for Christina; but she did not rebel, even when +Hans swore at her and the child, and made the place hideous with his +oaths. + +"You brought us all these troubles, you wretched boy!" he would say. +"Don't talk to _me_ of patience. Why don't you pray to your angel for +curses, and then we may have some good luck again? As it is, you might +as well pray to the Devil himself." + +But the child only drew Christina's head closer to his poor little +misshapen breast, and whispered to her, "It is not so, is it, little +mother?" + +And she always answered: "No, dear heart. They are indeed blessings if +we will only recognize them. It we prayed only for happiness, we might +think the white angel heard us not; but we pray for blessings, and so +he sends us what we pray for, and what he sends is best." + +Then again the boy's eyes shone with a great light, and there seemed a +radiance about his head; but Christina was kissing his shapeless little +hands and did not see. + +One day Christina was returning with a fresh bundle of work in her +arms, when, just as she came in sight of the hut, she saw a pillar of +smoke rise black and awful to the sky from the rude roof of the place. + +In a moment she felt a horrible fear for Hans and the child. Neither +of them could move; and must they lie helpless and forsaken in the face +of such a fearful death? She ran as though her feet were winged. +Nearer and nearer she came, and now she saw the flames rise and lick +the smoky column with great lapping tongues of fire. + +Nearer and nearer she came, and the crowd of men about the hut stood +stricken and dared not venture in. + +"It is of no use," they screamed. "We did not know soon enough, and +now it is too late; we should smother if we tried to save them." + +But she tore her way through the crowd and flung herself into the +burning place. + +Hans, writhing and screaming, had managed to drag himself near the +door; and thinking, "The child is more fit for heaven, I will save Hans +first," she lifted him in her arms and carried him outside. It was as +though some great strength had been given her, for she carried him as +if he had been a little child. Then into the hut she went once more, +and to the bed of the child. But now the flames were licking her feet, +and the smoke blinded her. She groped her way to the bed and felt for +the boy, but he was not in his accustomed place; and she was about to +fling herself upon the little couch in despair, when a great light +filled the place,--not the red light of the flames, but a clear white +flood such as she had only seen once before. + +There stood the white angel, radiant, glorious; and looking up she saw +him smiling down at her with the eyes of the boy. + +"I am come again," he said. "When you would not give me your life, I +gave you mine, and it was spent in pain and torture. Now that you +would gladly give yours to spare me, you are to taste the sweetest of +all blessings. The lesson is over; it is done." And he took her in +his arms and she was filled with a great joy, for she knew the angel +had answered all her prayers. She remembered the words: "He that +findeth his life shall lose it; and he that loseth his life for my sake +shall find it." + +The men outside waited in vain for Christina, and when she did not come +they shook their heads and some of them wept. They did not know. + + + + +IN THE PIED PIPER'S MOUNTAIN. + +It was a great honor, let me tell you; and Doris, as she sat by the +window studying, could not help thinking of it and feeling just a wee +bit important. + +"It is n't as if I were the oldest girl," said she to herself. "No, +indeed; I 'm younger than most of them, and yet when it came to +choosing who should speak, and we were each given a chance to vote, I +had the most ballots. Miss Smith told me I could recite anything I +chose, but to be sure it was 'good,' and that it was not 'beyond me.' +Well, this is n't 'beyond me.' I guess;" and she began:-- + + "Hamelin Town 's in Brunswick, + By famous Hanover City; + The river Weser, deep and wide, + Washes its walls on the southern side,-- + A pleasanter spot you never spied. + But, when begins my ditty, + Almost five hundred years ago, + To see the townfolk suffer so + With vermin was a pity." + +For she had chosen Browning's "Pied Piper of Hamelin." That was surely +"good;" and if it was long, why, it was "so interesting." As she went +along she could almost see the rats as they "fought the dogs and killed +the cats." She could almost see the great Mayor tremble as the people +flocked to him and threatened to "send him packing" if he did n't find +some means to rid them of those awful rats. She could almost hear the +Pied Piper's voice as he offered to clear the town of the pests; and it +seemed to her she could hear the music of his pipe as he stepped into +the street and began to play, while the rats from every hole and cranny +followed him to the very banks of the Weser, where they were drowned in +the rolling tide. + +It seemed awful that after promising the Piper those fifty thousand +guilders, the Mayor should break his word; and it certainly was +terrible, when the Piper found he had been duped, that he should again +begin to pipe, and that the children--yes, every one in Hamelin +Town--should follow him just as the rats had done, and that by and by +he should lead them to the mountain-side, that it should open, and +that, lo! after they had all passed in, it should close again, leaving +only one little lame boy outside, weeping bitterly because he had not +been able to walk fast enough to keep up with the merry crowd. It was +all so distinct and plain. + +She wondered where the children went after the hill-side shut them in. +She wondered what they saw. She thought the Piper's music must have +been very odd indeed to charm them so. She could almost hear-- _What +was that_? She gave a start; for sure as you live, she heard the sound +of a fife piping shrill and loud round the corner. She flung down the +book and ran into the street. The air was cold and sharp and made her +shiver, but she did not stop to think of that; she was listening to +that Piper who was coming around the side of the house,--nearer and +nearer. She meant to follow him, whoever he was. There! How the wind +whistled and the leaves scurried! + +Wind! Leaves! Why, it was the Pied Piper himself with his puffed +cheeks and tattered coat; and before him ran the host of children, +dancing, as they went, to the tune of the Piper's fife. + +Away--away-- + +With a bound Doris left the door-step and followed after, running and +fluttering, skipping and skurrying, sometimes like a little girl and +sometimes like a big leaf,--she had n't time to ask herself which she +really was; for all the while she was listening to that wonderful fife +as it whistled and wailed, shrieked and sighed, and seemed to coax them +on all the while. + +She followed blindly after the rest of the whirling crowd. + +Away they went, always more and more,--away they went, clear out of +town and into the bare country,--away they went; and the Piper behind +them made his fife-notes shriller and louder, so that all could hear, +and they seemed to be carried along in spite of themselves. + +It was like a race in a dream. Their feet seemed not to touch the +ground. The leaves rustled--no, the children chattered as they +fluttered--no, hurried along. Doris could catch little sentences here +and there; but they seemed to be in a strange tongue, and she did not +understand. But by and by she grew very familiar with the sounds, and, +strangely enough, she found she could make out the meaning of the queer +words. + +"It 's German," she thought; "I know they're talking German;" and so +she listened very attentively. + +"Sie ist eine Fremde," she heard one say to another; "sie gehoert nicht +zu uns,"--which she immediately knew meant: "She is a stranger; she +doesn't belong to us." + +"Nein," replied the other; "aber sie scheint gut und brav zu sein." At +which Doris smiled; she liked to be thought "good and sweet." + +On and on they went; and after a time things began to have a very +foreign look, and this startled Doris considerably. + +"We can't have crossed the ocean," she thought. But when she asked her +nearest neighbor where they were and whether they had crossed the +Atlantic, he smiled and said,-- + +"Ja, gewiss; wir sind in Deutschland. Wir gehen, schon, nach +Hamelin,"--which rather puzzled Doris; for she found they had crossed +the sea and were in Germany and going to Hamelin. + +"It must be the Piper's wonderful way," she thought. + +But she did not feel at all homesick nor tired nor afraid; for the +Piper's fife seemed to keep them all in excellent spirits, and she +found herself wondering what she would do when they came to the fabled +hill-side,--for she never doubted they would go there. On they went, +faster and faster, the Piper behind them playing all the while. + +She saw the broad river; and all the children shouted, "Die Weser." + +One little flaxen-haired girl told her they were nearing Hamelin. + +"It used to have a big wall around it, with twenty towers and a large +fort; but that was all blown up by the French, years and years ago," +she explained. + +"But it has a chain-bridge," she remarked proudly,--"a chain-bridge +that stretches quite across the Weser." + +Doris was just about to say: "Why, that's nothing! We have a huge +suspension bridge in New York;" but the words seemed to twist +themselves into a different form, and the memory of home to melt away, +and she found herself murmuring, "Ach, so?" quite like the rest of the +little Teutons. + +But at length the fife ceased playing, and the children stopped. + +There they were in quaint old Hamelin, with its odd wooden houses, and +its old Munster that was all falling to ruin, and its rosy-cheeked +children, who did not seem to notice the new-comers at all. + +"We must be invisible," thought Doris; and indeed they were. + +Then the Pied Piper came forward and beckoned them on, and softly they +followed him to the very hill-side, that opened, as Doris knew it +would, and they found themselves in a vast hall. A low rumbling +startled Doris for a moment, but then she knew it was only the +hill-side closing upon them. She seemed to hear a faint cry as the +last sound died, away, and was tempted to run back, for she feared some +child had been hurt; but her companion said,-- + +"It can't be helped, dear; he _always_ gets left outside, and then he +weeps. You see he is lame, and he cannot keep up with us." + +So Doris knew it was the self-same little lad of whom Browning had +written in his story of the Piper. + +What a chattering there was, to be sure; and what a crowd was gathered +about the Piper at the farther end of the hall! Every once in a while +all the children would laugh so loudly that the very ceiling shook. It +was such a merry throng. + +"Tell me," said Doris to her little neighbor,--"tell me, are you always +so gay here? Do you never quarrel? and have you really lived in this +hillside all this long, long time,--ever since the Piper first came to +Hamelin five hundred years ago?" + +"Ja, wohl," replied the girl, nodding her flaxen head. "We are always +so happy; we never quarrel; therefore we are ever young, and what thou +callest five hundred years are as nothing to us. Ah! we are well cared +for here, and the Piper teaches us, and we him; and we play and frolic +and sometimes travel, 'und so geht's.'" + +"But what can you teach _him_?" asked Doris, wondering. + +"Ah! many things. We teach him to tune his fife to the sounds of our +laughter, so that when he travels he may pipe new songs. Ah! thou +foolish one, thou thoughtest him the _wind_. And we teach him to be as +a little child, and then he keeps young always, and his heart is warm +and glad. And we teach him-- But thou shalt see;" and she nodded +again, and smiled into Doris's wondering eyes. + +The hall they were in was long and wide, and hung all about the walls +were the most beautiful pictures, that seemed to shift and change every +moment into something more strange and lovely. And as Doris looked she +seemed to know what the pictures were,--and they were only reflections +of the children's pure souls that shone out of their eyes. + +"How beautiful!" she thought. + +But the Piper was singing to them now; and as she drew nearer him she +saw he had two little tots in his arms, and was putting them to sleep +on his breast. + +So the children were still while the Piper sang his lullaby, and +presently the two little ones began to nod; and the Piper did not move, +but held them to his kind heart until they were fast asleep. Then he +rose and carried them away and laid them down somewhere. Doris could +not see where, but it must have been far enough away to be out of the +sound of their voices; for when he came back he did not lower his +tones, but spoke up quite naturally and laughed gayly as he said,-- + +"Well, what now, Children? Shall we show the new friend our +manufactory?" + +And they were all so anxious to do whatever he proposed that in a +moment they had formed quite a bodyguard about the Pied Piper, and were +following and leading him down the vast hall. + +"What is the manufactory?" asked Doris of a boy who happened to be +beside her. + +"Wait and thou shalt see!" he replied. "We always are patient until +the Herr Piper is ready to tell us what he wishes; then we listen and +attend." + +Doris would have felt that the boy was snubbing her if his eyes had not +been so kind and his voice so sweet. As it was she took it all +pleasantly, and determined to ask no more questions, but to content +herself with as much information as the Piper was willing to bestow +upon her. + +But now they had passed out of the first great hall and into another +that seemed even more vast. At first it seemed quite empty to Doris, +but as soon as her eyes grew accustomed to the strange light, she saw +its walls were flanked by any number of wee spinning-wheels; and above +them on shelves lay stacks of something that looked like golden flax, +and shimmered and glittered in a wonderful way. The floor was carpeted +with something very soft and of a tender, fresh green, and Doris's feet +seemed to sink into it at every step; and then a sweet perfume seemed +to rise up like that one smells on an early spring-day when one goes +into the country and is the first to lay foot on the fresh young grass. +The ceiling was so high that at first Doris thought it was no ceiling +at all, but just the sky itself, and it was a deep, clear blue. + +"This is our Spring-room, little Doris," explained the Piper. "Now, +Children!" + +And at these words they broke away from him, leaving only Doris by his +side; and each group began a different task. One new to the stacks of +gold and separated them into long, heavy skeins; while another spun the +threads back and forth till they sparkled and danced and seemed to turn +into sunbeams that at length broke away and glanced into the blue +above, where they played about just as the sunlight does on a bright +spring-day. Others, again, knelt down upon the soft carpet, and seemed +to be whispering something very sweet to some one or something hidden +below; and before very long up sprang long, tender shoots, and then +thin buds appeared, and by and by the buds swelled and burst, and then +where every bud had been was a flower. And all this time there had +been a sound as of falling drops that seemed to be keeping time to a +soft little melody the children were crooning. + +The Piper, looking at Doris's wondering face, said, smiling: "Thou dost +not comprehend, dear heart? Well, I will explain. As I said, this is +our Spring-room, and in it all the sunshine and flowers and clouds and +rain are made that go to make up a spring day. They," he said, +pointing to the first group, "are separating the golden skeins so that +they can be spun into sunbeams. It takes great patience before they +are completely finished; and if one of the spinners should sigh while +weaving, it would ruin the beam and make it dull and heavy. So, you +see, the sunbeam-children must be very light-hearted. Then those +others are coaxing the flowers to spring up and bud. After they are +all well above ground the flower-children hide a secret in the heart of +each blossom, and a very beautiful secret it is, and so wonderful that +very few ever succeed in finding it out. But it is worth searching +for, and one or two world-people have really discovered it. Thou mayst +guess what a difficult task is that of my flower-children; for at first +the flowers are drowsy and would prefer to slumber yet awhile; and my +children must whisper to them such beautiful thoughts that they forget +everything else and spring up to hear more. The singing thou nearest +is the lullaby the rain-children are singing to the drops. Thou +knowest that the clouds are the rain-cradles, and when my children sing +slumber songs and rock the clouds gently to and fro, the drops grow +sleepy and forget to fall. But sometimes they are too restless to +remain in their beds, and then they fall to earth; and if we could wait +so long we might hear the children teach them their patter-song. But +we have much else to see, and must go forward. Now, Children!" + +At this there was a slight commotion while the deft hands put aside +their tasks; but it was over in a moment, and the Piper once more in +the midst of the merry crowd, who laughed gayly and chattered like +magpies, while Doris looked her admiration and delight, and the Piper +smiled approvingly. + +"The next is the Summer-room," he said, as they wandered on. "Thou +seest we are never idle. The world is so large, there is always plenty +to do; and what would become of it if it were not for the children? +They are the ones who make the world bright, little Doris; and so +everything depends upon their keeping their hearts glad; and one 's +heart cannot be glad if one's soul is not beautiful. Thou thoughtest +not so much depended upon the children, didst thou, dear heart?" + +Oh, the wonders of that Summer-room! The perfect chorus that rose as +the fresh young voices taught the birds to sing; the beauty of the +rainbows, the glory of the sunsets. It was all so wonderful that Doris +scarcely knew how to show her appreciation of it all. + +The Autumn-room was scarcely less bewildering, and the Winter-room was +so dazzling that Doris shut up her eyes for very wonder. + +In the Autumn-room all the little musicians set about transposing the +melody of the bird-songs from the major to the minor key, and they +taught the Piper to bring his fifing into harmony with their voices. +The small artists began changing the sky-coloring, and brought about +such wonderful effects that it was marvellous to see, and Doris could +scarcely realize at all that such wonders could be. + +After they had shown her the Winter-room and had seen her amazement at +the glory of the snow-crystals and the mysterious way in which the +rainbow colors were hidden in the ice, the Piper nodded his head, and +they all turned back and began to retrace their steps. + +"I suppose thou didst wonder where we had been when thou didst join us, +little friend," said the Piper. "I will tell thee. In the spring we +all set out on our travels; for my children must see and learn, besides +showing and teaching others. So in the spring we leave this place and +go into the world. Then I go wandering about with my fife north and +south, east and west, and the people think me the wind. But my dear +children could not bear such fatigue; so they take up their abode in +the trees, and remain there guiding the seasons and seeing that all is +well; whispering to me as I pass and to one another, and singing softly +to the stars and the clouds, and then every one mistakes and thinks +them simply rustling leaves. Then, when I have finished my journeying, +I give them a sign, and they dress themselves in gala-costume,--for joy +at the thought of coming home,--and when every one is gay in red, +purple, and yellow, they all slip down from the trees and away we go. +People have great theories about the changing of the foliage, but it is +a simple matter; as I tell you, it is only that my children are getting +ready to go home. + +"During the winter we leave the world to sleep, for it grows very weary +and needs rest. My children arrange its snow-coverlets for it, and +then it slumbers, and the moon and stars keep watch. So now thou +knowest all, little maid, and thou canst be one of us, and make the +world bright and glorious if thou wilt. It only needs a beautiful +soul, dear Doris; then one remains ever young, and can work many +wonders." + +"Oh, I will, I will!" cried Doris, instantly. + +"But," said the Piper, "it takes such long experience. Thou seest my +children had long years of it; and until thou canst make life bright +within, thou couldst not venture without. But if thou wilt try, and be +content to work in patience,--there are many children who are doing +this--" + +"Oh, I will, I will!" said Doris, again. + +Then the children laughed more happily than ever, and the Piper raised +his fife to his lips and blew a loud, glad note. + +What was this? The children had disappeared, the Piper was gone, and +Doris sat by the window, and her book had dropped to the floor. She +rubbed her eyes. + +"It was a dream," she said. "It is the Piper's wonderful way; he has +left me here to work and wait, so that I may make the world beautiful +at last." And she smiled and clapped her hands as the wind swept round +the corner. + + + + +MARJORIE'S MIRACLE. + +"Shall we have to wait until all these folks have been taken?" asked +Marjorie, looking from the crowd of people who thronged the fashionable +photograph-gallery to her mother, who was threading her way slowly +through the press to the cashier's desk. + +"Yes, dear, I 'm afraid so. But we must be patient and not fret, else +we shall not get a pleasant picture; and that would never do." + +While she paid the clerk for the photographs and made her arrangements +with him as to the desired size and style, Marjorie busied herself with +looking around and scanning the different faces she saw. + +"There!" she thought; "what for, do you s'pose, have I got to wait for +that baby to have its picture taken? Nothing but an ugly mite of a +thing, anyway! I should n't guess it was more than a day old, from the +way it wiggles its eyes about. I wonder if its mother thinks it's a +nice baby? Anyhow, I should think I might have my picture taken first. +And that hump-backed boy! Guess I have a right to go in before him! +He 's not pretty one bit. What a lovely frock that young lady has +on,--all fluffy and white, with lace and things! She keeps looking in +the glass all the time, so I guess she knows she 's pretty. When I am +a young lady I 'll be prettier than she is, though, for my hair is +goldener than hers, and my eyes are brown, and hers are nothing, but +plain blue. I heard a gentleman say the other day I had 'a rare style +of beauty,' he did n't know I heard (he was talking to Mamma, and he +thought I had gone away, but I had n't). I 'm glad I have 'a rare +style of beauty,' and I 'm glad my father 's rich, so I can have lovely +clothes and-- Seems to me any one ought to see that I 'm prettier than +that old lady over there; she 's all bent over and wrinkled, and when +she talks her voice is all kind of trembly, and her eyes are as dim-- +But she 'll go in before me just the same, and I 'll get tireder and +tireder, until I-- Mamma, won't you come over to that sofa, and put +your arm around me so I can rest? I 'm as sleepy as I can be; and by +the time all these folks get done being _taken_, I 'll be dead, I +s'pose. _Do_ come!" + +Her mother permitted herself to be led to the opposite side of the +room, where a large lounge stood, and seating herself upon it, took her +little daughter within the circle of her arm; whereupon Marjorie +commenced complaining of the injustice of these "homely" people being +given the advantage over her pretty self. + +"Oh, Marjorie, Marjorie!" whispered her mother, "what a very foolish +little girl you are! I think it would take a miracle to make you see +aright. Don't you know that that dear baby is very, very sick, and +that probably its sad little mother has brought it here to have its +picture taken, so that if it should be called away from her, she might +have something to gaze at that looked like her precious little one? +And that poor crippled boy! He has a lovely face, with its large, +patient eyes and sensitive mouth. How much better he is to look at +than that young woman you admire so much, whose beauty does not come +from her soul at all, and will disappear as soon as her rosy cheeks +fade and her hair grows gray! Now, that sweet old lady over there is +just a picture of goodness; and her dear old eyes have a look of love +in them that is more beautiful than any shimmer or shine you could show +me in those of your friend Miss Peacock." + +"Why do you call her 'Miss Peacock'? You don't know her, do you?" +queried Marjorie. + +"No, I don't know her in one sense, but in another I do. She is vain +and proud, and the reason I called her Miss Peacock was because of the +way in which she struts back and forth before that pier-glass,--just +like the silly bird itself. But I should not have called her names. +It was not a kind thing to do, even though she _is_ so foolish; and I +beg her pardon and yours, little daughter." + +Marjorie did not ask why her mother apologized to her. She had a dim +sort of an idea that it was because she had set her an example that she +would be sorry to have her follow. Instead, she inquired suddenly,-- + +"How do they take pictures, Mamma? I mean, what does the man do, when +he goes behind that queer machine thing and sticks his head under the +cloth, and then after a while claps in something that looks like my +tracing-slate and then pops it out again? What makes the picture?" + +"The sun makes the picture. It is so strong and clear that though it +is such a long distance away it shines down upon the object that is to +be photographed and reflects its image through a lens in the camera +upon a plate which is _sensitized_ (that is, coated with a sort of +gelatine that is so sensitive that it holds the impression cast upon it +until by the aid of certain acids and processes it can be made +permanent, that is, lasting). I am afraid I have not succeeded in +explaining so you understand very clearly; have I, Sweetheart?" + +Marjorie nodded her head. "Ye-es," she replied listlessly. "I guess I +know now. You said--the sun--did--it; the sun took our pictures. It's +very strange--to think--the sun--does--it." + + +"Come, Marjorie! Want to go travelling?" asked a voice. + +"No, thank you; not just now," replied Marjorie, slowly. "I am going +to have my photograph taken in a little while,--just as soon as all +these stupid folks get theirs done. I should n't have time to go +anywhere hardly; and besides it 'd tire me, and I want to look all +fresh and neat, so the picture will be pretty." + +"But suppose we promised, honor bright--" + +"Begging your pardon," broke in another voice, "that's understood in +any case,--a foregone conclusion, you know. Our honor would _have_ to +be bright." + +"Suppose we promised faithfully," continued the first voice, pretending +not to notice the interruption, "to bring you back in time to go in +when your turn comes, would n't you rather take a journey with us and +see any number of wonderful things than just to sit here leaning +against your mother's arm and watching these people that you think so +'stupid'?" + +"Of course," assented Marjorie, at once. "It 's awful tiresome,--this; +it makes me feel just as sleepy as can be. But what 's the use of +talking? I can't leave here or I 'd lose my chance, and besides Mamma +never lets me go out with strangers." + +"We 're not strangers," asserted the voice, calmly; "we are as familiar +to you as your shadow,--in fact, more so, come to think of it. You +have always known us, and so has your mother. She 'd trust you to us, +never fear! Will you come?" + +Marjorie considered a moment, and then said: "Well, if you're perfectly +sure you 'll take care of me, and that you 'll bring me back in time, I +guess I will." + +No sooner had she spoken than she felt herself raised from her place +and borne away out of the crowded room in which she was,--out, out into +the world, as free as the air itself, and being carried along as though +she were a piece of light thistle-down on the back of a summer breeze. + +That she was travelling very fast, she could see by the way in which +she out-stripped the clouds hurrying noiselessly across the sky. One +thing she knew,--whatever progress she was making was due, not to +herself (for she was making absolutely no effort at all, seeming to be +merely reclining at ease), but was the result of some other exertion +than her own. She was not frightened in the least, but, as she grew +accustomed to the peculiar mode of locomotion, became more and more +curious to discover the source of it. + +She looked about her, but nothing was visible save the azure sky above +her and the green earth beneath. She seemed to be quite alone. The +sense of her solitude began to fill her with a deep awe, and she grew +strangely uneasy: as she thought of herself, a frail little girl, amid +the vastness of the big world. + +How weak and helpless she was,--scarcely more important than one of the +wild-flowers she had used to tread on when she was n't being hurried +through space by the means of--she knew not what. To be sure, she was +pretty; but then they had been pretty too, and she had stepped on them, +and they had died, and she had gone away and no one had ever known. + +"Oh, dear!" she thought, "it would be the easiest thing in the world +for me to be killed (even if I _am_ pretty), and no one would know it +at all. I wonder what is going to happen? I wish I had n't come." + +"Don't be afraid!" said the familiar voice, suddenly. "We promised to +take care of you. We are truth itself. Don't be afraid!" + +"But I _am_ afraid," insisted Marjorie, in a petulant way, "and I 'm +getting afraider every minute. I don't know where I 'm going, nor how +I 'm being taken there, and I don't like it one bit. Who are you, +anyway?" + +For a moment she received no reply; but then the voice said: "Hush! +don't speak so irreverently. You are talking to the emissaries of a +great sovereign,--his Majesty the Sun." + +"Is _he_ carrying me along?" inquired Marjorie presently, with deep +respect. + +"Oh, dear, no," responded the voice; "we are doing that. We are his +vassals,--you call us beams. He never condescends to leave his +place,--he could not; if he were to desert his throne for the smallest +fraction of a second, one could not imagine the amount of disaster that +would ensue. But we do his bidding, and hasten north and south and +east and west, just as he commands. It is a very magnificent thing to +be a king--" + +"Of course," interrupted Marjorie; "one can wear such elegant clothes, +that shine and sparkle like everything with gold and jewels, and have +lots of servants and--" + +"No, no," corrected the beam, warmly. "Where did you get such a wrong +idea of things? That is not at all where the splendor of being a king +exists. It does not lie in the mere fact of one 's being born to a +title and able to command. That would be very little if that were all. +It is not in the gold and jewels and precious stuffs that go to adorn a +king that his grandeur lies, but in the things which these things +represent. We give a king the rarest and the most costly, because it +is fitting that the king should have the best,--that he is worthy of +the best; that only the best will serve one who is so great and +glorious. They mean nothing in themselves; they only describe his +greatness. The things that one sees are not of importance; it is the +things that they are put there to represent. Do you understand? I +don't believe you do. I 'll try to make it more clear to you, like a +true sunbeam. Look at one of your earth-kings, for instance. He is +nothing but a man just like the rest of you; but what makes him great +is that he is supposed to have more truth, more wisdom, more justice +and power. If he has not these things, then he would better never have +been a king; for that only places him where every one can see how +unworthy he is,--makes his lacks only more conspicuous. Your word +_king_ comes from another word, _könning_; which comes from still +another word, _canning_, that means _ableman_. If he is not really an +ableman, it were better he had never worn ermine. And there, too; +ermine is only a fur, you know. It is nothing in itself but fur; but +you have come to think of it as an emblem of royalty because kings use +it. So you see, Marjorie, a thing is not of any worth really except as +it represents something that is great and noble, something _true_." + +Marjorie was very silent for a little; she was trying to understand +what the sunbeam meant, and found it rather difficult. After a while +she gave it up and said,-- + +"Will you tell me how you are carrying me, and where we are going, and +all about it?" + +"Certainly," replied the beam, brightly. "You are in a sort of +hammock made out of threads of sunshine. We sunbeams can weave one in +less than no time, and it is no trouble at all to swing a little mortal +like you way out into the clearness and the light, so that a bit of it +can make its way into your dark little soul, and make you not quite so +blind as you were." + +"Why, I 'm not blind at all," said Marjorie, with a surprised pout. "I +can see as well as anything. Did you think I couldn't?" + +"I _know_ you can't," replied the beam, calmly. "That is, you can't +see any farther than the outside part of things, and that is almost +worse than seeing none of them at all. But here we are nearing the +court of the king. Now don't expect to see _him_, for that is +impossible. He is altogether too radiant for you; your eyes could not +bear so much glory. It would be just as if you took one of your own +little moles or bats (creatures that are used to the dark) and put them +in the full glare of a noonday sun. The sun would be there, but they +could not see it, because their eyes would be too weak and dim. Even +yourself,--have n't you often tried to look the sun full in the face? +Yes; and you have had to give it up and turn your face away because it +hurt your eyes. Well, his Majesty only lets the world have a glimpse +of his glory. But here we are at our journey's end." + +With these words Marjorie felt herself brought to a gentle halt, and +found herself in a place most wondrously clear and light and high, from +which she could look off,--far, far across and over and down to where +something that looked like a dim ball was whirling rapidly. + +"That is your earth," whispered the sunbeam in her ear,--"the earth +that you have just left." + +Marjorie was so astounded that for a time she was unable to say a word. +Then she managed to falter out: "But it always looked so big and +bright, and now it is nothing but a horrid dark speck--" + +"That is just it, Marjorie,--just what I said. When you look at the +world simply as a planet, it is small and dark enough, not nearly so +large as some of the others you see about you; but when you look at it +as a place on which God has put his people to be good and noble, to +work out a beautiful purpose, then-- But wait a moment." + +Marjorie felt a strange thrill pass through her; across her eyes swept +something that felt like a caressing hand, and when she looked again +everything was changed, and she seemed gazing at a wonderful sort of +panorama that shifted and changed every moment, showing more lovely +impressions each instant. + +"What is it?" she gasped, scarcely able to speak for delight and +breathless with amazement. + +"Only pictures of your world as it really is. Pictures taken by his +Highness the Sun, who does not stop at the mere outer form of things, +but reveals the true inwardness of them,--what they are actually. He +does not stop with the likeness of the surface of things; he makes +portraits of their hearts as well, and he always gets exact +likenesses,--he never fails." + +Marjorie felt a sudden fear steal over her at these words; she did not +precisely know why, but she had a dim sort of feeling that if the sun +took photographs of more than the outside of things (of the hearts as +well), some of the pictures he got might not be so pretty, perhaps. +But she said nothing, and watched the scroll as it unrolled before her +with a great thrill of wonderment. + +With her new vision the world was more beautiful than anything she had +ever imagined. She could see everything upon its surface, even to the +tiniest flower; but nothing was as it had seemed to her when she had +been one of its inhabitants herself. Each blade of grass, each tree +and rock and brook, was something more than a mere blade or tree or +rock or brook,--something so much more strange and beautiful that it +almost made her tremble with ecstasy to see. + +"Now you can see," said the voice; "before you were blind. Now you +understand what I meant when I said the objects one sees are of +themselves nothing; it is what they represent that is grand and +glorious and beautiful. A flower is lovely, but it is not half so +lovely as the thing it suggests--but I can't expect you to understand +_that_. Even when you were blind you used to love the ocean. Now that +you can see, do you know why? It is because it is an emblem of God's +love, deep and mighty and strong and beautiful beyond words. And so +with the mountains, and so with the smallest weed that grows. But we +must look at other things before you go back--" + +"Oh, dear!" faltered Marjorie, "when I go back shall I be blind again? +How does one see clear when one goes back?" + +"Through truth," answered the beam, briefly. + +But just then Marjorie found herself looking at some new sights. "What +are these?" she whispered tremblingly. + +"The _proofs_ of some pictures you will remember to have half seen," +replied the beam. + +And sure enough! with a start of amaze and wonder she saw before her +eyes the people who had sat in the crowded gallery with her before she +had left it to journey here with her sunbeam guide; but, oh! with such +a difference. + +The baby she had thought so ugly was in reality a white-winged angel, +mild-eyed and pitying; while the hump-backed boy represented a patience +so tender that it beautified everything upon which it shone. She +thought she recognized in one of the pictures a frock of filmy lace +that she remembered to have seen before; but the form it encased was +strange to her, so ill-shapen and unlovely it looked; while the face +was so repulsive that she shrank from it with horror. + +"Is that what I thought was the pretty girl?" she murmured tremulously. + +"Yes," replied the beam, simply. + +The next portrait was that of the silver-haired old lady whom Marjorie +had thought so crooked and bowed. She saw now why her shoulders were +bent. It was because of the mass of memories she carried,--memories +gathered through a long and useful life. Her silver hair made a halo +about her head. + +"The next is yours," breathed the voice at her side, softly. "Will you +look?" + +Marjorie gave a quick start, and her voice quivered sadly as she +cried,-- + +"Oh, blessed sunbeam, don't force me to see it! Let me go back and try +to be better before I see my likeness. I am afraid now. The outside +prettiness is n't anything, unless one's spirit is lovely too; and I--I +could not look, for I know--I know how hateful mine would be. I have +learned about it now, and it's like a book; if the story the book tells +is not beautiful, the pictures won't be good to see. I have learned +about it now, and I know better than I did. May I--oh, may I try +again?" + +She waited in an agony of suspense for the answer; and when it came, +and the voice said gently, "It is your turn next," she cried aloud,-- + +"Not yet, oh, not yet! Let me wait. Let me try again." + + +And there she was, with her cheeks all flushed and tear-stained, her +hair in loose, damp curls about her temples, and her frock all rumpled +and crushed in her mother's arms; and her mother was saying,-- + +"Bad dreams, sweetheart? You have had a fine, long nap; but it is your +turn next, and I have had to wake you. Come, dear! Now we must see if +we cannot get a good likeness of you,--just as you really are." + + + + +WHAT HAPPENED TO LIONEL. + +It is not to be supposed that such things happen every day. If they +were to happen every day, one would get so familiar with them that they +would not seem at all extraordinary; and if there were no extraordinary +things in the world, how very dull one would be, to be sure! As it +is-- But to go back. + +The beggar had stood before the area-gate for a long time, and no one +had paid the slightest attention to him. He was an old man with long +gray hair, and a faded, ragged coat, whose tatters fluttered madly to +and fro every time the wind blew. He was very tall and gaunt, and his +back was bent. On his head was a big slouched hat, whose brim fell +forward over his eyes and almost hid them entirely in its shadow. He +carried a basket upon one arm, and a cane with a crook for a handle +hung upon the other. He seemed very patient, for he was waiting, +unmurmuringly, for some one to come in answer to the ring he had given +the area-bell some fifteen minutes before. No one came, and he +appeared to be considering whether to ring again or go away, when +Lionel skipped nimbly from his chair by the drawing-room window, +slipped noiselessly down the basement stairs, and opened the area-door +just in time to prevent the beggar from taking his departure. + +"What do you want, sir?" inquired Lionel, politely, through the tall +iron gate. + +The beggar turned around at the sound of the child's voice, and replied: + +"I have come to beg--" + +"Oh, yes, I know," cried Lionel, hurriedly (he was afraid some one +might come, and then he would be snatched unceremoniously away from the +open door, and the beggar sent smartly about his business by one of the +pert-tongued maids); "but is it for cold victuals or money?" + +The beggar looked down at the little lad, and a smile, half of pity, +half of amusement, lit up his grave features for a moment. "I have +come to beg," he said slowly, "that you will receive from me, not that +you will give to me." + +Lionel's eyes widened with amazement. "That I will receive from you?" +he repeated slowly. "Then you are n't a beggar at all?" + +"Most assuredly I am," responded the old man, promptly. "Do I not beg +of you? What is a beggar? 'One who begs or entreats earnestly or with +humility; a petitioner.' That is how your dictionary has it. It does +n't say for what he begs or entreats. Where I come from things are so +different,--there it is a mark of distinction, I can assure you, to be +a beggar. One must have lived such a long life of poverty and +self-sacrifice before one is permitted to beg--to beg others to receive +one's benefits. Ah, yes, there it is so different!" + +"Yes, it must be," assented Lionel. "Here beggars are just persons who +go about and ask for cold bits or pennies; and we don't think much of +them at all." + +"That is because they are not the right kind of almsfolk, nor you the +right kind of almoners," responded the beggar; and then he repeated: +"Ah, yes, there it is so different!" + +"Where?" inquired Lionel. "Won't you tell me about it?" + +"Dear child," replied the beggar, gently, "it can't be described. It +must be seen to be appreciated. If you once entered into that estate, +you would never wish to return to this." + +"Is it as nice as all that?" questioned Lionel, eagerly. "Guess I 'll +go, then. Will you take me ?" he asked. + +The beggar smiled down at him kindly. "I can't take you, dear boy," he +said. "I have to travel on. But I can set you on the road, and you +will reach there in safety if you follow my directions." + +Lionel waited breathlessly for the beggar to continue; but the man +almost seemed to have forgotten his existence, for he was gazing +dreamily over his head into the darkness of the hallway, apparently +seeing nothing but what was in his own mind's eye. + +"Well?" asked Lionel, a little impatiently. "You were going to give me +the directions, you know." + +"Oh, yes!" returned the beggar, with a slight start. "Well, the +directions are: _Always turn to the right_!" + +Lionel considered a moment, and then he said: "But if I always turn to +the right I should n't get anywhere at all. I 'd be only going round +and round." + +"No, no!" replied the beggar, hastily; "you must always go _square_, +you know. And you 'll find you 'll get along beautifully if you always +keep to the right." + +"But s'pose," suggested Lionel, "I come to a place where the road is to +the left,--some of the roads might be not to the right,--some might go +quite the other way." + +"Yes," assented the beggar, wistfully. "They _all_ go the other +way,--that is, they _seem_ to go the other way. But when they seem to +go to the wrong and you don't see any that go to the right, just keep +as near to the right as you can, and by and by you 'll see one and it +will be lovely. But if you turn down to the wrong, you run a chance of +losing your way entirely. It is always so much harder to go back." + +"But are those all the directions you are going to give me?" inquired +Lionel, with a doubtful glance. + +"They are sufficient," replied the beggar. "You 'll find them +sufficient;" and before Lionel could say another word the beggar had +vanished from before his very eyes. He had not slipped away, nor slunk +away, nor walked away, nor sped away,--he had simply vanished; and +Lionel was left alone behind the grated door of the area-way gazing out +upon a vacant space of pavement where, an instant before, the beggar +had stood. The little boy rubbed his eyes and looked again. No, the +beggar was gone, in very truth, and had left not so much as a rag +behind him. But, look! what was that? Something lay upon the stone +step just outside the gate, and it gleamed brightly from out its dusky +corner. Lionel reached up and unlatched the heavy fastening. The +great gate swung slowly in, and Lionel stepped briskly out. He bent +down and grasped the shining object; it proved to be a little rule, and +it was made of solid gold. He clasped it to his bosom. + +"How beautiful!" he murmured. "Now I can measure things and carve them +with my jack-knife, and they 'll be just exactly right. Before they +have n't been quite straight, and when I 'd try to put the parts +together they wouldn't fit; but now--" + +And then suddenly the thought flashed across his mind: "Perhaps it +belongs to the beggar and he might want it;" and without a moment's +thought to his bare head, he passed quickly through the gateway and out +into the street. + +"It's such a beautiful rule," he thought, as he flew along. "I never +saw such a darling. If it were mine, how I should hate to lose it! I +must certainly find him and give it back to him; for I know he must +feel just as I should if it were mine." + +It never entered into his head to keep the thing; his one idea seemed +to be to find the beggar and return to him his property. But before +very long his breath began to come in gasps, and he found himself +panting painfully and unable to run any farther. He paused and leaned +against the huge newel-post at the foot of some one's outer steps. His +cheeks were aglow, his eyes flashing, his thick curls rough and +tumbled, and his bang in fine disorder. The deep embroidered cuffs and +collar upon his blouse were crushed and rumpled; his little Zouave +jacket was wind-blown and dusty, and his pumps splashed with mud from +the gutter-puddles through which he had run. At home they would have +said he "looked like distress;" but here, leaning wearily against the +post, he was a most picturesque little figure. + +Suddenly he felt a light touch upon his head, and then his bang was +brushed back from his temples as though by the stroke of some kindly +hand. He looked up, and there beside him stood the oddest-looking +figure he had ever seen. + +The stranger was clad from head to foot in a suit of silver gray. Upon +his head he wore a peaked cap, upon his feet were the longest and most +pointed of buskins; his doublet and hose were silver gray, and over his +shoulders hung a mantle about which was a jagged border made after the +most fantastic design, which shone and glittered like ice in sunlight. +About his hips was a narrow girdle from which hung a sheathed dagger +whose hilt was richly studded with clear, white crystals that looked to +Lionel like the purest of diamonds. + +Lionel felt that when he spoke it would probably be after some +old-century fashion which he could scarcely understand; but there he +was mistaken, for when the stranger addressed him, it was in the most +modern manner and with great kindliness. + +"Well, my son," he said cheerily, "tired out? I saw you run. You have +a fine pair of heels. They have good speed in them." + +"I wanted to catch up with someone,--an old beggar-man who lost +something in our area-way. I wanted to return it to him," explained +Lionel, breathlessly. + +The stranger gazed down at him more kindly than ever. "So? But one +can't expect to catch up with folks when one gets _winded_ and has to +stop every now and then for breath. Better try my mode." + +"Please, sir, what is your mode?" inquired Lionel, with his politest +manner. + +"To begin with," explained his companion, "I have to accomplish the +most astonishing feats in the manner of speed. Literally I have to +travel so fast that I am in two places at once. You will the better +believe me when I tell you who I am,--Jack Frost, at your service, sir. +Now, by what means do you think I manage it ?" + +"I 'm sure I don't know. I should like immensely to find out," Lionel +returned. + +"How do you get to places yourself?" inquired Jack Frost. "Do you +always run?" + +"Oh, no, indeed. I almost always ride on my bicycle. Then I can _go_ +like anything, 'specially down _coasts_. Upgrades are kind of hard +sometimes, but not so very. Oh, I can go quick enough when I have my +bicycle." + +"Now then," broke in Jack Frost, "you use a bicycle,--that is, a +machine having two wheels. Now _I_ use a something having but one +wheel; consequently it goes twice as fast,--oh! much more than twice as +fast." + +"One wheel?" repeated Lionel, thoughtfully; "seems to me I never +heard of that kind of an one." + +"Suppose you guess," proposed Jack Frost. "I 'll put it in the form of +a conundrum: If a thing having two wheels is called a _bi_cycle, what +would a thing having but one be called?" + +"Oh, that's an old one. I 've heard that before, and the answer is, a +wheelbarrow, you know." + +Jack Frost shook his head, "I see I shall have to tell you," he said. +"If a thing having two wheels is called a _bi_cycle, a thing having but +one would naturally be an _i_cicle. Of course you might have known I +should use an icicle." + +"But oh, Mr. Frost," objected Lionel, "I never saw an icicle with a +wheel in my life, and I never saw one go either." + +"That's because you have n't seen me on one; and even if you had seen +me on one, you wouldn't have known it,--we travel so fast. Did you +ever notice that when things are going at the very rapidest rate +possible, they seem to be standing perfectly still? That's the way +with icicles. They have tremendous speed in them. They go so fast you +can't realize it, and then when they are slowing up they don't do it +with a clumsy jerk as bicycles do; they just gradually melt out of +sight." + +"Yes, I 've seen them do that. I 've seen them go that way," admitted +Lionel. "But will you take me to the beggar? I'm 'fraid I sha'n't be +able to give him his rule if I don't hurry up." + +"But do you know in what direction he went?" asked Jack Frost. "If one +wants to catch up with any one, one needs to have _some_ idea of the +direction he took. It's quite a _desideratum_,--when you get home, +look that up." + +Then Lionel felt deeply mortified. "What a silly I was!" he said. +"Perhaps I was going just the opposite way from the one he went. Oh, +dear! how can I ever give him back his rule? It is such a beauty. If +it had been mine, I 'd just hate to lose it." + +"Let us examine it," suggested Jack Frost, "and see if there is any +sign upon it that would help to discover its owner;" and without a +moment's doubt or hesitation Lionel drew it from his pocket and held it +up for Jack Frost to see. + +Then for a little space they both gazed at it carefully; Jack Frost +bending down his tall head to get a nearer view of it, and Lionel +standing upon the tips of his toes to accomplish the same purpose. + +"Oh, see, see!" cried the boy, joyously. "It says, 'LIONEL,--HIS RULE +FOR LIFE.' That means I can keep it for always, does n't it? Forever +'n' ever." + +"It means," explained Jack Frosty gravely, "that you can keep it,--yes. +But it means you are to measure your life with it. You are always to +use it in everything you do. Then you 'll be _true_, and whatever you +do will be _straight_ and _square_." + +"Why, that's what he said himself. He said I must always 'go square.' +That was when he was giving me directions how to reach the beautiful +place he came from. He called it an estate; and he said if I ever got +there I 'd never want to come away. As long as I 'm on the way I guess +I 'll try to find that place. Will you take me?" + +"I 'm afraid," replied Jack Frost, with a very kindly seriousness,--"I +'m afraid one must depend on one's self in order to reach that place. +But I 'll tell you what I will do; I 'll stay with you for a bit, and, +perhaps, having company will hearten you, so if you happen to come +across any specially bad places just at first, you won't be +discouraged. And I want to tell you that if you are ever in doubt as +to the way and no one is there to give you advice, just set yourself to +work and use your rule and you 'll come out right. Now don't forget!" +and with these words he vanished. + +"Why, I thought he was going to stay with me," murmured Lionel, +despondently. "He was so jolly, and I liked him so much. He said he +wouldn't leave me just yet--" + +"Nor have I," rejoined the hearty voice close by his ear. "But I can't +neglect my business, you know; and at this moment I 'm here and 'way +off in Alaska too. Stiff work, is n't it?" + +But in spite of this Lionel heard him whistling cheerily beside him. + +The boy trudged on, and every once in a while he and his invisible +comrade would converse together in the most friendly manner possible, +and Lionel did indeed feel encouraged by the knowledge of Jack Frost's +companionship. But by and by, after quite a long time, Lionel noticed +that when he addressed his unseen fellow-traveller the voice that came +to him in reply seemed rather far away and distant, and later became +lost to him altogether. + +Then he knew that Jack Frost had left him for a season, and he felt +quite lonely and deserted and was about to drop a tear or two of +regret, when all at once, at his very feet, opened a new way which he +had not noticed before. It looked bright and inviting, and wound along +in the most picturesque fashion, instead of lying straight and level +before him, as did the road from which it branched. + +He was just about to turn down this fascinating side-path, and was in +the very act of complaining about his loneliness and bemoaning it +aloud, when he happened to notice that the sky looked a little +overcast; the air had grown heavy and still, and a strange, sad hush +brooded over everything; while the bare branches upon the trees +appeared to droop, and the one or two birds that had perched upon them +uttered low, plaintive little sounds that were disheartening to hear. + +Lionel was struck with so great an awe that he entirely forgot himself +and his sorrow; and in that one moment the skies seemed to brighten, +the air to lighten, and the trees and birds had grown songful again. + +"What does it mean?" he asked himself anxiously; and then, all at once, +he bethought himself of Jack Frost's advice in case he ever was in +doubt as to the course he was to take, and in a twinkling had whipped +out his rule and was down on his knees applying it in good earnest. +Then how glad he was that he had not turned into the inviting by-path, +for his little rule showed how crooked and wrong it was,--whole yards +and yards away from the right; and he knew he must have met with some +mishap, or at the very least have wasted any amount of precious time +trying to retrace his steps and regain the place upon which he now +stood. + +He was so relieved to think he had been saved from making such a sad +mistake that he began to whistle merrily, and in an instant the whole +world about him was bright of hue and joyous again, and looking, he +saw, to his amazement, that the bare branches were abud. + +"It's spring," he cried happily, and leaped along his way toward the +right. In a flash the tempting little by-path had curled up like a +scroll and disappeared from view; and then Lionel knew that it had not +been real at all, but only imaginary, and he was more grateful than +ever that he had not followed its lead. + +"Now, you good little rule," said he, addressing the shining object in +his hand, "I 'll put you in my breast-pocket and keep you safe and warm +next to my heart. Then you 'll be ready if I want you again." And he +was just about to thrust it in his bosom, when his eyes were caught by +something unusual upon its surface, and on examining it very closely he +saw, in exquisitely chased characters, the words,-- + + Nor sigh nor weep o'er thine own ills; + Such plaining earth with mourning fills. + Forget thyself, and thou shalt see + Thyself remembered blessedly. + +For some time after he had read the lines he was plunged in thought. +They seemed to teach him a lesson that it took him some little time to +learn. + +"I don't know why it should make the world sad if one complains," he +mused. "But I s'pose it does. I s'pose one has n't any right to make +things unpleasant for other people by crying about things. One ought +to be brave and not bother folks with one's troubles. Well, I 'll try +not to do so any more, because if it's going to make things so +unpleasant it can't be right." + +And this last word seemed to link in his mind his escape from the +complaint of his loneliness and the by-path down which he did not turn; +and he was so long trying to unravel the mystery of the connection that +before he knew it he had almost stumbled into quite a bog, and there, +in front of him, sat a wee child,--just where two roads met,--and he +had well-nigh run over her in his carelessness. + +"Oh, bother!" said he,--for he was irritated at the thought of having +only so narrowly escaped doing himself serious damage,--"what do you +get in a fellow's way for? You--" But the poor little mite gazed up +at him so sadly, and wept so piteously at his hasty words that he +paused suddenly and did not go on. + +He looked down the two paths. The one was wide and curving, the other +narrow and straight; the one was bordered with rich foliage, the other +was bare and sandy. He might have run lightly along the one, he would +have to toil wearisomely along the other. What wonder that his foot +was turning in the direction of the first! But a queer pricking in his +bosom and the child's cry stopped him. + +He slowly drew forth his rule and began to measure, while the little +one sobbed,-- + +"I 'm so told I tan't walt any more. My foots are all tired out, and I +want sumpin to eat;" and there he found himself just on the verge of +making a fearful blunder. He got up from his knees and turning to the +tiny maid, said kindly,-- + +"There, there! don't cry, dear! We 'll fix you all right;" and he +stripped off his jacket and wrapped it about her, taking her in his +arms, and trudging on with his burden along the more difficult way. +But it was the right one, and he knew it; and so his heart was light, +and he did not have time to think of his own weariness; for all the +time he was trying to comfort his forlorn little companion. And so +well he succeeded that in no time at all she was asleep on his +shoulder. Then he sat down by the roadside, and holding her still in +his arms, began to think. + +"There I was a little while ago complaining--no, not quite complaining, +but _almost_--because I hadn't anybody to keep me company. Now I 've +got somebody with a vengeance. She's awful heavy. But, oh, dear! what +a narrow escape I had! I might have run into that bog, and that would +have been a 'pretty how d 'ye do,' as Sarah says. I was so busy +thinking I forgot everything, and ran almost over little Sissy; and +that shows, I s'pose, how without meaning it one can hurt somebody if +one does n't look out." + +And then, very carefully, so as not to wake his sleeping charge, he +slipped his hand into his pocket and drew out his rule again. + +"What a good friend you are!" he said to it. "I really think you 're +better than any sword or poniard a body could have. You 've saved me +from danger twice now, and--" But here he stared at it in dumb +surprise, for even as he looked he saw appear upon its polished surface +the words,-- + + Deep is the bog in which they sink + Who ne'er on others' sorrow think; + Deeper the joy in which they rest + Who 've served the weary and distressed. + +And, sure enough, he felt so happy he could have sung aloud in spite of +his weariness and fatigue. + +But I could not begin to tell you of all his experiences, nor how +unfailingly his little rule helped him to meet them successfully. + +He thought a great deal about it and its magical power; but once or +twice he did get to wondering why it should point to the straight path +when the winding one was so much the prettier to see. + +"Are the right ways always the ones we should n't take if we had our +own way?" he thought. "Why is it that the right one always seems not +so pretty as the other? Seems to me some one told me once that the +curved lines were 'the lines of beauty.'" But before he had time +fairly to consider the subject, his rule, which he happened to be +holding in his hand, showed him this little verse,-- + + "Straight is the line of duty, + Curved is the line of beauty; + Follow th' one and thou shalt see + The other ever following thee." + +And this was always the way. Whenever Lionel was puzzled about +anything, his rule always made it clear to him. And by and by, after +he had met with all sorts of adventures, he began to wonder whether he +was ever going to see the beggar again or reach his wonderful estate. + +It was on a very beautiful day that he wondered this, and he was more +than a little happy because he had just been applying his rule to +unusually good effect, when, lo! there beside him stood the subject of +his thoughts. But oh! how changed he was! + +Every rag upon him glowed and shimmered with a wondrous lustre, and the +staff he carried blazed with light, while the basket upon his arm +overflowed with the most beautiful blessings. + +"I thought," said the new-comer, "that I might risk giving you this +encouragement. It will not make you content to go no farther on _now_. +It will make you long to strive for greater good ahead. You will not +reach it until you have travelled a lifetime; but you will not despair, +for you are being so blessed. I have been permitted to give you a +great gift. It is for that I was begging you that day. See, what a +privilege it is to be able to beg so--" + +"Oh, yes," cried Lionel; "you were going to beg me to accept the little +rule, were n't you? And you left it for me when you disappeared, and +it is a beauty, and it is gold, and it does strange, wonderful things +for me, and--and--" In his enthusiasm he drew it from his breast and +held it up, when, lo! it curved about his hand until it formed a +perfect, beautiful circle. From its shining rim shot up points of +radiance, and it was no more a simple little rule, but a golden crown +fit for a king to wear. + +Lionel gazed at it in mute wonderment, and the beggar put out his hand +and touched it lovingly. + +"When your journey is done you shall wear it, lad," he said; and then +Lionel closed his eyes for very ecstasy, and then-- + +But when extraordinary things are just on the point of getting _too_ +extraordinary, they are sure to meet with some sort of an interruption, +and after that they are quite ordinary and every-day again. So when +Lionel opened his eyes there he was curled up in the chair by the +drawing-room window, and it had grown very dark and must have been +late, for one of the maids was tripping softly about the room, lighting +the lamps and singing as she did it. + + + + +MARIE AND THE MEADOW-BROOK. + +A little maid sat sadly weeping while the sunbeams played merrily at +hide-and-seek with the shadows that the great oak branches cast on the +ground; while the warm summer wind sang softly to itself as it passed, +and the blue sky had not even a white cloud with which to hide the sad +sight from its eyes. + +"Why do you weep?" asked the oak-tree; but Marie did not hear it, and +her tears tell faster than ever. + +"Why are you so sad?" questioned the sunbeams; and they came to her +gently and tried to peep into her eyes. + +But she only got up and sat farther away in the shadow, and they could +do nothing to comfort her. So they danced awhile on the door-step; and +then the sun called them away, for it was growing late. + +And still the little maid sat weeping; and if she had not fallen asleep +from very weariness, who knows what the sad consequences might not have +been? + +"How warm it is!" murmured the dandelions in the meadow. "Our heads +are quite heavy, and our feet are hot. If it was not our duty to stand +up, we would like nothing better than to sink down in the shade and go +to sleep; but we must attend to our task and keep awake." + +"What can you have, you wee things, to keep you busy?" asked the tall +milkweed that grew near the fence-rails; and the mullein-stalk beside +it echoed,-- + +"What, indeed?" + +"Now, one can understand one so tall as I having to stand upright and +do my duty; but you,--why, you are no taller than one of my green pods +that I am filling with floss--" + +"And not half so tall as one of my leaves that I must line with +velvet," interrupted the mullein-stalk again. + +The dandelions looked grieved for a moment, but answered brightly: +"Why, don't you know? It must be because you live so far away--there +by the fence--that you don't know we are here to pin the grass down +until it grows old enough to know it must not wander off like the +crickets, or to blow away like the floss in your own pods. Young grass +is very foolish,--I think I heard the farmer call it green the other +day, but we don't like the expression ourselves,--and it would be apt +to do flighty things if we did n't pin it down where it belongs. When +we have taught it its lesson, we can go to sleep. We always stay until +the last minute, and then we slip on our white nightcaps,--so fluffy +and light and soft they are,--and lo! some day we are gone, no one +knows where but the wind; and he carries us off in his arms, for we are +too tired to walk; and then we rest until the next year, when we are +bright and early at our task again." + +Then the milkweed and the mullein-stalk bowed very gravely and +respectfully to the little dandelions, and said,-- + +"Yes, we see. Even such wee things as you have your duties, and we are +sorry you are so weary." + +So the milkweed whispered to the breeze that the dandelions were too +warm, and begged it to help them; but the breeze murmured very gently,-- + +"I don't know what is the matter with me, dear milkweed, but I am so +faint, so faint, I think I shall die." + +And sure enough, the next day the little breeze had died, and then they +knew how they missed him, even though he had been so weak for the last +few days; for the sun glared down fiercely, and the meadow thought it +was angry, and was so frightened it grew feverish and parched with very +dread. + +"We wish our parasols were larger," sighed the toadstools; "but they +are so small that, try as we may, we cannot get them to cast a large +shadow, and now the breeze has died we have no messenger. If only one +knew how to get word to the clouds!" + +But the clouds had done such steady duty through the spring that they +thought they were entitled to a holiday, and had gone to the +mountain-tops, where they were resting calmly, feeling very grand among +such an assembly of crowned heads. + +Meanwhile the meadow grew browner and browner, and its pretty dress was +being scorched so that by and by no one would have recognized it for +the gay thing it had been a week ago. And still the sun glared angrily +down, and the little breeze was dead. + +Then the grasses laid down their tiny spears, and the dandelions bent +their heads, and the locusts and the crickets and the grasshoppers +called feebly,-- + +"Oh, little brook, cannot you get out of your bed and come this way?" + +"Our hearts are broken," cried the daisies. + +"We shall die," wailed the ragged-sailors. Then they all waited for +the brook to reply; but she was silent, and call as they would they +could get no answer. + +"Hush!" whispered the springs. "Her bed is empty. Have n't you +noticed how little she sang lately? The weeds must have fallen asleep +and she has run away. You know they always hindered her." + +They did not tell that they were too weak to feed the brook; so it had +dried away. And still the sun glared down, and the little breeze was +dead, and the brook had disappeared; while there on the door-step sat +Marie weeping big tears,--for the little maid was always sad, and come +when you would, there was Marie with her dark eyes filled and brimming +over with the shining drops. + +The beeches beckoned her from the garden; she saw them do it. Their +long branches waved to her to come, like inviting arms; and still +weeping, she stole quietly away. + +"Come," whispered the gnarled apple-trees down in the orchard; and she +threaded her way sadly among the trunks, while her tears fell splash, +splash, on her white pinafore. + +"Here!" gasped the meadow-grass; and she followed on, sobbing softly to +herself, as she sat down where, days ago, the brook had merrily sung. + +"Why do you grieve?" asked the pebbles; and she heard them and +answered,-- + +"Because I am so sad. Things are never as I want them, and so I cry. +I am made to obey, and then, when the stars come out and I wish to stay +up, I am sent to bed; and the next morning, when I am so sleepy I can +hardly open my eyes, I am made to get up. Oh, this is a very sad +world!" And she wept afresh. + +Then the flowers and the grasses and the pebbles, seeing her tears, all +said at once: "Would you like to stay here with us? Then you could +stay awake all night and gaze at the stars, and in the morning you need +not get up. You may lie in the brook's empty bed, and you need never +obey your parents any more." + +Marie was silent a moment, and then a hundred small voices said, "Do, +oh, do!" And her tears fell faster and more fast, and larger and +larger, for she felt more abused than ever now the meadow had shown her +sympathy, as she thought. She kept dropping tears so quickly that by +and by even her sobbing could scarcely be heard for the splash, splash, +of the many drops that were falling on the white pebbles in the brook's +bed. + +How they fell! The brown eyes grew dim, and Marie could not see. She +felt tiny hands pulling her down--down; and in a moment she had ceased +to be a little girl and had become a brook, while her weeping was the +murmur of little waves as they plashed against the stones. + +Yes, it was true! + +She need never go to sleep when the stars came out; she need never get +out of her bed in the morning,--how could she when the strong weeds +hindered her,--and how could a brook obey when people spoke? + +And meanwhile the meadow grew gay again, for the brook cooled its +fever; and by and by the dandelions tied on their large, fluffy +nightcaps and disappeared, and the sun ceased to glare--for Marie was +gone from the door-step with her weeping, and he need not look down on +the ungrateful little maid who ought to have been so happy. The clouds +came back; and when they heard how the meadow had suffered they wept +for sympathy, and the underground springs grew strong, until one day +there was a great commotion in the meadow. + +A little bird had told the whole story of Marie's woe to the breeze, +and he rose and sighed aloud; the trees tossed their arms about, +because it was so wicked in a little girl to be ungrateful. The +crickets said, "Tut, tut!" in a very snappy way; and at last the great +wind rose, and whipped the poor brook until it grew quite white with +foam and fear. + +Then Marie knew how naughty she had been, and she made no complaint at +her punishment. In fact, she bore it so meekly that after the wind had +quieted down and the stormy flurry was over, she began to sing her +quiet little song again, although she was very tired of it by this +time, and was so meek and patient that all the meadow whispered: + +"Good little thing now,--good little thing!" and then they told her how +everything in the world, no matter how small it is, has a duty to +perform, and should do its task cheerfully and gladly, and not weep and +complain when it thinks matters are not going in the right way, but try +to keep on with its task and relief will come. + +Marie listened like an obedient little brook as she was, and was just +going to float another merry little bubble to the little reeds below +when she heard a voice say, "Give me my bed; I want it," and lo! there +was the real brook come back. She pushed Marie aside and hurt her, +though she seemed so gentle. + +Marie tried to rise, but it was difficult; her limbs were stiff lying +all this time in the meadow, her eyes were weary gazing at the sky, and +her voice hoarse with the song she had been forced to sing. + +She tried again, and this time she succeeded; and behold! there she was +on the door-step, and the sun was going down. + + + + +NINA'S CHRISTMAS GIFTS. + +Hark! What was that? + +Nina stood still in the wintry blast and listened. The wind rushed +upon her wildly, and dragged her tattered skirt this way and that, and +fleered at her, and whistled at her; and when she paid not the +slightest attention to his cruel treatment of her, fled tumultuously +down the street. + +It was a wretched, shivering little figure that he left behind him,--a +small girl, with coal-black hair escaping from the folds of a bright +kerchief that was tied about it; with immense dark eyes, that seemed to +light up her poor, pinched face and make it beautiful; with tattered +dress and torn shoes, and with something clutched tightly beneath her +arm,--something that she tried unsuccessfully to shield from the +weather beneath her wretched rag of a shawl, that was so insufficient +to shield even her. She was listening intently to the sounds of an +organ that came pealing forth into the dusk from within the enormous +church before whose doors she was standing. + +Louder, fuller swelled the majestic cords, and then--Nina strained her +ears to listen--and then the sweetest, tenderest voice imaginable +seemed to be singing to her of all the most beautiful things of which +she had ever dreamed. It drew her toward it by the influence of its +plaintiveness; and first one step and then another she took in its +direction until she was within the huge doors, and found herself +standing upon a white marble floor, with wonderful paintings on the +lofty ceiling above her head, and a sense of delicious warmth all about +her. But, alas! where was the singer? The thrilling notes were still +falling upon her ear with caressing sweetness; but they seemed to come +from beyond,--from far beyond. + +Before her she saw more doors. Perhaps if she slipped through these +she might come in sight of the owner of the voice. + +"It is the Santa Maria," murmured Nina to her heart. "And she is +singing to the Bambinetto,--to the Santissimo Bambino. Ah, yes, it +must be the Santa Maria, for who else could have a voice like that,--so +sweet and soft, yet so heavenly clear and pure?" + +No one she had ever heard could sing like that. Not Luisa who sang for +pennies on the street, nor Guilia, nor Edwiga, nor yet Filomena +herself, who was so proud of her voice and who carolled lustily all day +long. No, no, it must be the Santa Maria. + +Telemacho (Telemacho was a neighbor who played upon the harp and +sometimes let Nina go with him on his tramps, to sing and play upon her +fiddle, but oftener forced her to go alone,--they earned more so, he +said) had often told her about the Santa Maria and the Gesù Bambino. +Oh, it was a beautiful story, and--ah! ah! _of course_ it was the Santa +Maria. Was not this the Festa del Gesù Bambino? To be sure, it was, +and she had forgotten. No wonder the Santa Maria was singing to the +Bambinetto. To-morrow would be his birthday, his _festa_. + +She would go to the blessed _Madre_ and say,-- + +"Ah, _Madre mia_, I heard thee singing to the Bambino, and it was so +sweet, _so_ sweet, I could not help but follow, I _love_ it so." + +She stepped softly to the heavy doors, and with her whole weight +bracing against one, pushed it softly open and passed through. Ah! but +it was beautiful here. + +Far, far above her head shone out dimly a hundred sparks of light like +twinkling stars. And everywhere hung garlands of green, sweet-smelling +garlands of green, that filled the place with their spicy fragrance. +And no one need grow weary here for lack of resting-place. Why, it was +quite filled with seats, soft-cushioned and comfortable. Nina stole +into one of the pews and sat down. She was very tired,--very, very +tired. + +From her dim corner she peeped forth timidly, scarcely daring to raise +her eyes lest the vision of the radiant Madonna should burst upon her +view all too suddenly. But when at last she really gazed aloft to the +point from which the tremulous voice sprung, no glorified figure met +her view. She still heard the melting, thrilling tones, but, alas! the +blessed singer--the Santa Maria--was invisible. All she could +distinguish in the half-gloom of the place was the form of a man seated +in the lofty gallery overhead. He was sitting before some kind of +instrument, and his fingers slipping over the keys were bringing forth +the most wonderful sounds. Ah, yes! Nina knew what music one could +make with one's fingers. Did not Telemacho play upon the harp? Did +not she herself accompany her own singing upon her fiddle,--her darling +fiddle, which she clasped lovingly beneath her arm and bravely tried to +shield from the weather? But surely, surely he could not be _playing_ +that voice! Oh, no! it was the Santa Maria, and she was up in heaven +out of sight. It was only the sound of her singing that had come to +earth. Poor little Nina! She was so often disappointed that it was +not very hard to miss another joy. She must comfort herself by finding +a reason for it. If there was a reason, it was not so hard. Nina had +to think of a great many reasons. But nevertheless she could not +control one little sigh of regret. She would so much have liked to see +the Santa Maria. If she _had_ seen her, she thought she would have +asked her to give her a Christmas gift,--something she could always +keep, something that no one could take from her and that would never +spoil nor break. One had need of just such an indestructible +possession if one lived in the "Italian Quarter." Things got sadly +broken there. And--and--there were so few, so very few gifts. But it +was warm and dim and sweet in here,--a right good place in which to +rest when one was tired. She bent her head and leaned it against the +wooden back of the seat, and her eyes wandered first to one interesting +object and then to another,--to the tall windows, each of which was a +most beautiful picture, and all made of wonderfully colored glass; to +the frescoed walls garlanded with green and at last to the organ-loft +itself, in which was the solitary figure of the musician, seated before +that strange, many-keyed instrument of his, practising his Christmas +music. + +He had lit the gas-jets at either side of the key-board, and they threw +quite a light upon him as he played, and upon the huge organ-pipes +above his head. Nina thought she had never seen anything as beautiful +as were their illuminated surfaces. She did not know what they were, +but that did not matter. She thought they looked very much like +exceedingly pointed slippers set upright upon their toes. She fancied +they were slippers belonging to the glorious angels who, Telemacho +said, always came to earth at Christmas-tide to sing heavenly anthems +for the Festa del Gesù Bambino, and to distribute blessings to those +who were worthy. + +Perhaps they had trod upon the ice outside, and had wet the soles of +their slippers, so that they had been forced to set them up on end to +dry. She had no doubt they would be gone in the morning. + +The tremulous voice had ceased some time ago, and now the organ was +sending forth deep, heavy chords that made the air thrill and vibrate. +The pew in which Nina sat quite shook with the sounds, and she shrank +away from the wooden back, and cuddled down upon the cushion in the +seat, feeling very mysterious and awestruck, but withal quite warm and +happily expectant. + +"Ah, ah!" she thought, "they are coming,--the angels are coming. That +is why the seat trembles so. There are so many of them that though +they step very lightly it shakes the ground. He, up there, is playing +their march music for them. Oh, I know! I know! I have seen the +soldiers in the streets; and when they came one could feel the ground +tremble, and they had music, too,--they kept step to it. I 'll lie +very still and not move, and maybe I can even get a glimpse of the Gesù +Bambino himself, and if I should--ah! _if_ I should, then I know I 'd +never be tired nor cold nor sad-hearted any more." + +Nina started suddenly to her feet. The place was filled with a soft, +white radiance. Faintly, as though from a distance, came the sounds of +delicious music, and a rare fragrance was in all the air. What was it? +Oh, what was it? She felt her heart beat louder and faster, and she +thought she must cry out for very pain of its throbbing. But she made +no sound, only waited and watched in breathless wonder and anticipation. + +The light about her grew clearer and more lustrous; the faint strains +of melody more glorious, and the perfumed air sweeter still; and lo! +the whole place was thronged with white-winged spirits, clad all in +garments so pure and spotless that they glistered at every turn. Each +seemed to have in charge some precious treasure which she clasped +lovingly to her breast, and all were so beautiful and tender-eyed that +Nina could not be afraid. The dazzling forms flitted to and fro like +filmy clouds; and as one passed very near her, Nina stretched out her +hand to grasp her floating robe. But though she scarcely touched it, +it was enough to make the delicate fabric sag and droop as if some +strange weight had suddenly been attached to it. Its wearer paused in +her flight, and glanced down at her garment anxiously, and then for an +instant appeared to be trying to remember something. In her eyes there +grew a troubled look, but she shook her head and murmured,-- + +"Alas! What have I done? What can I have done? I can think of no way +in which I have let the world touch me, and yet I must have, for my +robe is weighted, and--" But here she suddenly espied Nina. + +"Ah!" she cried, her deep eyes clearing, "it was you, then, little +mortal. For a moment I was struck with fear. You see if a bit of the +world attaches to our garments it makes them heavy and weighs them +down, and it is a long time ere they regain their lightness. Such a +mishap seldom occurs, for generally we are only too glad to keep our +minds on perfect things. But once in a long, long while we may give a +thought to earth, and then it always hangs upon us like a clog; and if +we did not immediately try to shake it off, we should soon be quite +unable to rid ourselves of it, and it would grow and grow, and by and +by we should have lost the power to rise above the earth, and should +have to be poor worldlings like the rest; and, on the other hand, if +the worldlings would only throw off all the earth-thoughts that weigh +them down, they would become lighter and more spotless, and at last be +one of us. But if it was you who touched my robe and if I can help +you, I am not afraid. What do you wish, little one?" + +For a moment Nina could find no voice in which to reply; but by and by +she gained courage to falter out,-- + +"I came in here because I heard most beautiful music, and I thought it +might be the Santa Maria singing to the Bambinetto, since it is his +birthday--or will be to-morrow; and I thought--I did not mean to do +wrong, but I thought maybe if I could see the Gesù Santissimo once, +only once, I should never be tired nor cold nor sad-hearted any more. +They say on the Festa del Gesù Bambino one gets most beautiful gifts. +I have never got any gifts; but perhaps he might give me one if I +promised to be very good and to take most excellent care of it and +never to lose it." + +By this time the whole company of spirits, seeing their sister in +conversation with a little mortal, had crowded eagerly about; and as +Nina finished her sentence they all cried out in the sweetest, most +musical chorus imaginable,-- + +"She wants a gift,--the earth-child wants a gift; and she promises to +be very good, and to take excellent care of it and never lose it. The +little one shall have a gift." + +But most gently they were silenced by a nod from the spirit to whom +Nina had first spoken. + +"Dear child," she said, "we are the Christmas spirits,--Peace, Love, +Hope, Good-will, and all the rest. We come from above, and we are +laden with good gifts for mankind. To whomever is willing to receive +we give; but, alas! so few care for what we bring. They misuse it or +lose it; and that makes us very sad, for each gift we carry is most +good and perfect." + +"Oh! how can they?" cried Nina. "I would be so careful of mine, dear +spirits. I would lock it away, and--" + +But here the spirit interrupted her with a pitying smile and the +words,-- + +"But you should never do that, dear one. If one shuts away one's gifts +and does not let others profit by them, that is ill too. One must make +the best of them, share them with the world always, and remember whence +they come." + +"Will you show me some of your gifts?" asked Nina, timidly. + +The spirit drew nearer and took from her bosom a glittering gem. It +was clear and flawless, and though it was white a thousand sparks of +flame broke from its heart, and flashed their different hues to every +side. As Nina looked, wrapped in admiration, she felt her heart grow +big, and she felt a great longing to do some one a kindness,--to do +good to some one, no matter to whom. + +The spirits gazed at her kindling eyes. + +"There!" they cried in joyous unison, "Love has already given you her +gift. The way you must use it is always to put in everything you do. +It will never grow less, but will always grow more if you do as we say. +And it is the same with Hope and Peace and Good-will and all the rest. +If all to whom we give our gifts should use them aright, the world +would hold a festival all the year." + +And at this all the blessed throng closed about her, and loaded her +down with their offerings, until she was quite overcome with gratitude +and emotion. + +"All we ask is that you use them well," they repeated with one accord. +"Let nothing injure them, for some day you will be called to account +for them all, you know. And now you are to have a special gift,--one +by which you can gain world-praise and world-glory. And oh! be careful +of it, dear; it will gain for you great good if you do not abuse it, +and you need never be tired nor cold nor sad-hearted any more--" + +"But I have no place to keep all these things," cried Nina. "I have no +home. I live anywhere. I am only a poor little Italian singing-girl. +I--" + +"Keep them in your heart," answered the spirits, softly; and then one +of them bent over and kissed her upon the lips. + +"Ah, _gracia_, _gracia_,--thanks, thanks!" she cried; but even as she +spoke she sank back in dismay, for everything about her was dark and +still, and for a moment she did not know where she was. Then groping +blindly about in the shadow, she felt the wooden back of the pew in +which she sat, and then she remembered. + +But the gifts,--the spirits' Christmas gifts to her. Where were they? +For a long time she searched, stretching out her hand and passing it +over cushion, bench, and floor; but all in vain. No heavenly object +met her grasp, and at last she gave a poor little moan of +disappointment and sorrow,-- + +"It was only a dream after all,--only a dream." + +But now through the tall windows stole a faint streak of light. It +grew ever stronger, and by its aid Nina made her way to the doors, in +order to escape from the church in which she had slept away the night. +But alas! they were closed and fastened tight. She could not get out. +She wandered to and fro through the silent aisles, growing quite +familiar with the dusky place and feeling not at all afraid. She +thought over her dream, and recalled the fact that it was Christmas +Day,--the Festa del Gesù Bambino. + +"It was a dream," she mused; "but it was a beautiful one! Perhaps the +spirits gave it to me for my Christmas gift. Perhaps the Gesù bade +them give it me for my Christmas gift;" and just as a glorious burst of +sunshine struck through the illuminated windows, she took up her little +fiddle, raised her bow and her voice at the same time, and sang out in +worshipful gratitude,-- + + "Mira, cuor mio durissimo, + Il bel Bambin Gesù, + Che in quel presepe asprissimo, + Or lo fai nascer tu!" + +She did not hear a distant door open, nor did she see through it the +man who had unconsciously lured her into the church the evening before +by the power of his playing. No; she was conscious of nothing but her +singing and the sweet, long notes she was drawing with her bow from the +strings of her beloved violin. + +But she did hear, after she had finished, a low exclamation, and then +she did see that same man hastening toward her with outstretched hands. + +"Child, child," he cried, "how came you here! And such a voice! _such_ +a voice! Why, it is a gift from Heaven!" + +And amid all the excitement that followed,--the excitement of telling +who she was and hearing that she was to be taken care of and given a +home and trained to sing,--that, in fact, she was never to be tired nor +cold nor sad-hearted any more,--she had time to think,-- + +"Ah! _now_ I know. It was not a dream; it was the truth. I have all +my gifts in my heart for safe keeping. And my voice--hear! the +player-man says it is a gift from Heaven. And oh, I will always use it +with love and good-will, as the spirits bade me. They said it every +one did so it would be a _festa_ all the year." + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DREAMLAND*** + + +******* This file should be named 16348-8.txt or 16348-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/3/4/16348 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: +https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/16348-8.zip b/16348-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3b6582f --- /dev/null +++ b/16348-8.zip diff --git a/16348.txt b/16348.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b665b61 --- /dev/null +++ b/16348.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3116 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Dreamland, by Julie M. Lippmann + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Dreamland + + +Author: Julie M. Lippmann + + + +Release Date: July 23, 2005 [eBook #16348] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DREAMLAND*** + + +E-text prepared by Al Haines + + + +DREAMLAND + +by + +JULIE M. LIPPMANN + +Author of "Miss Wildfire," "Dorothy Day," etc. + +The Penn Publishing Company +Philadelphia + +MCMXIV + + + + + + + +TO + +LULU AND MARIE. + + + + + CONTENTS. + + THE WAKING SOUL + BETTY'S BY-AND-BY + THE WHITE ANGEL + IN THE PIED PIPER'S MOUNTAIN + MARJORIE'S MIRACLE + WHAT HAPPENED TO LIONEL + MARIE AND THE MEADOW-BROOK + NINA'S CHRISTMAS GIFTS + + + + +DREAMLAND. + +THE WAKING SOUL + +Larry lay under the trees upon the soft, green grass, with his hat +tilted far forward over his eyes and his grimy hands clasped together +beneath his head, wishing with all his might first one thing and then +another, but always that it was not so warm. + +When the children had gone to school in the morning, they had seen +Larry's figure, as they passed along the street, stretched out +full-length beneath the trees near the gutter curbstone; and when they +returned, there he was still. They looked at him with curiosity; and +some of the boys even paused beside him and bent over to see if he were +sunstruck. He let them talk about him and discuss him and wonder at +him as they would, never stirring, and scarcely daring to breathe, lest +they be induced to stay and question him. He wanted to be alone. He +wanted to lie lazily under the trees, and watch the sunbeams as they +flirted with the leaves, and hear the birds gossip with one another, +and feel the breeze as it touched his hot temples and soothed him with +its soft caresses. + +Across the street, upon some one's fence-rail, climbed a honeysuckle +vine; and every now and then Larry caught a whiff of a faint perfume as +the breeze flitted by. He wished the breeze would carry heavier loads +of it and come oftener. It was tantalizing to get just one breath and +no more in this way. + +But then, that was always the case with Larry; he seemed to get a hint +of so many things, and no more than that of any. Often when he was +lying as he was now, under green trees, beneath blue skies, he would +see the most beautiful pictures before his eyes. Sometimes they were +the clouds that drew them for him, and sometimes the trees. He would, +perhaps, be feeling particularly forlorn and tired, and would fling +himself down to rest, and then in a moment--just for all the world as +though the skies were sorry for him and wanted to help him forget his +troubles--he would see the white drifts overhead shift and change, and +there would be the vision of a magnificent man larger and more +beautiful than any mortal; and then Larry would hold his breath in +ecstasy, while the man's face grew graver and darker, and his strong +arm seemed to lift and beckon to something from afar, and then from out +a great stack of clouds would break one milk-white one which, when +Larry looked closer, would prove to be a colossal steed; and in an +instant, in the most remarkable way, the form of the man would be +mounted upon the back of the courser and then would be speeding off +toward the west. And then Larry would lose sight of them, just at the +very moment when he would have given worlds to see more; for by this +time the skies would have grown black, perhaps, and down would come the +rain in perfect torrents, sending Larry to his feet and scuttling off +into somebody's area-way for shelter. And there he would crouch and +think about his vision, fancying to himself his great warrior doing +battle with the sea; the sea lashing up its wave-horses till they rose +high upon their haunches, their gray backs curving outward, their foamy +manes a-quiver, their white forelegs madly pawing the air, till with a +wild whinny they would plunge headlong upon the beach, to be pierced by +the thousand rain-arrows the cloud-god sent swirling down from above, +and sink backward faint and trembling to be overtaken and trampled out +of sight by the next frenzied column behind. + +Oh! it sent Larry's blood tingling through his veins to see it all so +plainly; and he did not feel the chill of his wet rags about him, nor +the clutch of hunger in his poor, empty stomach, when the Spirit of the +Storm rode out, before his very eyes, to wage his mighty war. And then +at other times it would all be quite different, and he would see the +figures of beautiful maidens in gossamer garments, and they would seem +to be at play, flinging flecks of sunlight this way and that, or +winding and unwinding their flaky veils to fling them saucily across +the face of the sun. + +But none of these wondrous visions lasted. They remained long enough +to wake in Larry's heart a great longing for more, and then they would +disappear and he would be all the lonelier for the lack of them. That +was the greatest of his discouragements. What would he care for heat +or cold or hunger or thirst if he could only capture these fleeting +pictures once for all, so that he could always gaze at them and dream +over them and make them his forever! + +That was one of the things for which Larry was wishing as he lay under +the trees that summer day. He was thinking: "If there was _only_ some +way of getting them down from there! It seems to me I 'd do anything +in the world to be able to get them down from there. I--." + +"No, you would n't," said a low voice next his ear,--"no, you would +n't. You 'd lie here and wish and wonder all day long, but you would +n't take the first step to bring your pictures down from heaven." + +For a moment Larry was so mightily surprised that he found himself +quite at a loss for words, for there was no one near to be seen who +could possibly have addressed him; but presently he gained voice to +say,-- + +"Oh, I know I could n't get 'em o' course. Folks can't reach up and +bring clouds down out o' de sky." + +"I did n't say anything about clouds nor about the sky," returned the +voice. "I was speaking about pictures and heaven. Folks can reach up +and bring pictures down out of heaven. It's done every day. Geniuses +do it." + +"Who is geniuses?" asked untaught Larry. + +"People who can get near enough heaven to catch glimpses of its +wonderful beauty and paint it on canvas or carve it in marble for the +world to see, or who hear snatches of its music and set them upon paper +for the world to hear; and they are called artists and sculptors and +composers and poets." + +"What takes 'em up to heaven?" queried Larry. + +"Inspiration," answered the voice. + +"I don't know o' that. I never seen it," the boy returned. "Is it +death?" + +"No; it is life. But you would n't understand if I could explain it, +which I cannot. No one understands it. But it is there just the same. +You have it, but you do not know how to use it yet. You never will +unless you do something besides lie beneath the trees and dream. Why +can't you do something?" + +"Oh, I'm tired with all the things I 'm not doin'!" said Larry, in his +petulant, whimsical way. + +For a little the voice was silent, and Larry was beginning to fear it +had fled and deserted him like all the rest; when it spoke again, in +its low-toned murmur, like the breath of a breeze, and said,-- + +"It is cruel to make a good wish and then leave it to wander about the +world weak and struggling; always trying to be fulfilled and never +succeeding because it is not given strength enough. It makes a +nameless want in the world, and people's hearts ache for it and long to +be satisfied. They somehow feel there is somewhere a blessing that +might be blesseder, a beauty that should be more beautiful. It is then +that the little unfledged wish is near, and they feel its longing to be +made complete,--to be given wings and power to rise to heaven. Yes; +one ought not to make a good wish and let it go,--not to perish (for +nothing is lost in this world), but to be unfulfilled forever. One +ought to strengthen it day by day until it changes from a wish to an +endeavor, and then day by day from an endeavor to an achievement, and +then the world is better for it and glad of it, and its record goes +above. If all the people who wish to do wonderful things did them, how +blessed it would be! If all the people who wish to be good were good, +ah, then there would be no more disappointment nor tears nor heartache +in the world!" + +Larry pondered an instant after the voice had ceased, and then said +slowly: "I _kind_ o' think I know what you mean. You think I 'd ought +to be workin'. But what could I do? There ain't nothin' I could be +doin'." + +"Did n't I hear you complaining of me a little while ago, because I did +not carry heavy enough loads of honeysuckle scent and did not come +often enough? I carried all I was able to bear, for I am not very +strong nowadays, and I came as often as I could. In fact, I did my +best the first thing that came to hand. I want you to do the same. +That is duty. I don't bear malice toward you because you were +dissatisfied with me. You did not know. If you tried the best you +could and people complained, you ought not to let their discontent +discourage you. I brought you a whiff of perfume; you can bring some +one a sincere effort. By and by, when I am stronger and can blow good +gales and send the great ships safely into port and waft to land the +fragrant smell of their spicy cargo, you may be doing some greater work +and giving the world something it has been waiting for." + +"The world don't wait for things," said Larry. "It goes right on; it +does n't care. I 'm hungry and ragged, and I have n't no place to +sleep; but the world ain't a-waitin' fer me ter get things ter eat, ner +clo'es to me back, ner a soft bed. It ain't a-waiting fer nothin', as +I can see." + +"It does not stand still," replied the voice; "but it is waiting, +nevertheless. If you are expecting a dear, dear person--your mother, +for instance--" + +"I ain't got no mother," interrupted Larry, with a sorrowful sigh; "she +died." + +"Well, then--your sister," suggested the voice. + +"I ain't got no sister. I ain't got nobody. I 'm all by meself," +insisted the boy. + +"Then suppose, for years and years you have been dreaming of a friend +who is to fill your world with beauty as no one else could do,--who +among all others in the world will be the only one who could show you +how fair life is. While you would not stand still and do nothing what +time you were watching for her coming, you would be always waiting for +her, and when she was there you would be glad. That is how the world +feels about its geniuses,--those whom it needs to make it more +wonderful and great. It is waiting for you. Don't disappoint it. It +would make you sad unto death if the friend of whom you had dreamed +should not come at last, would it not?" + +Larry nodded his head in assent. "Does it always know 'em?" he asked. +"I mean does the world always be sure when the person comes, it 's the +one it dreamed of? Mebbe I'd be dreamin' of some one who was +beautiful, and mebbe the real one would n't look like what I thought, +and I 'd let her go by." + +"Ah, little Lawrence, the world has failed so too. It has let its +beloved ones go by; and then, when it was too late, it has called after +them in pleading to return. They never come back, but the world keeps +repeating their names forever. That is its punishment and their fame." + +"What does it need me for?" asked Larry. + +"It needs you to paint for it the pictures you see amid the clouds and +on the earth." + +"Can't they see 'em?" queried the boy. + +"No, not as you can. Their sight is not clear enough. God wants them +to know of it, and so He sends them you to make it plain to them. It +is as though you went to a foreign country where the people's speech +was strange to you. You could not know their meaning unless some one +who understood their language and yours translated it for you. He +would be the only one who could make their meaning clear to you. He +would be an interpreter." + +"How am I to get that thing you spoke about that 'd take me up to +heaven, so's I could bring down the beautiful things I see?" inquired +Larry. "Where is it?" + +"Inspiration?" asked the voice. "That is everywhere,--all about you, +within and without you. You have only to pray to be given sight clear +enough to see it and power to use it. But now I must leave you. I +have given you my message; give the world yours. Good-by, Lawrence, +good-by;" and the voice had ceased. + +Larry stretched out his hands and cried, "Come back, oh, come back!" + +But the echo of his own words was all he heard in response. He lay +quite motionless and still for some time after that, thinking about all +the voice had said to him, and when finally he pushed his hat back from +before his eyes, he saw the starlit sky smiling down upon him +benignantly. And then, from behind a dark cloud he saw the radiant +moon appear, and it seemed to him like the most beautiful woman's face +he could imagine, peering out from the shadow of her own dusky hair to +welcome the night. + +He got upon his feet as well as he could, for he was very stiff with +lying so long, and stumbled on toward some dark nook or cranny where he +could huddle unseen until the morning; his head full of plans for the +morrow, and his heart beating high with courage and hope. + +He would dream no more, but labor. He would work at the first thing +that came to hand, and then, perhaps, that wonderful thing which the +voice had called inspiration would come to him, and he would be able to +mount to heaven on it and bring down to earth some of the glorious +things he saw. He thought inspiration must be some sort of a magical +ladder, that was invisible to all but those given special sight to see +and power to use it. If he ever caught a glimpse of it he intended to +take hold at once and climb straight up to the blessed regions above; +and dreaming of all he would see there, he fell asleep. + +In the morning he was awake bright and early, and stretching himself +with a long-drawn yawn, set out to find some way of procuring for +himself a breakfast. First at one shop-door and then at another he +stopped, popping in his shaggy head and asking the man inside, "Give me +a job, Mister?" and being in reply promptly invited to "clear out!" + +But it took more than this to discourage Larry, heartened as he was by +the remembrance of his visions of the day before; and on and on he +went, until, at last, in answer to his question--and just as he was +about to withdraw his head from the door of the express-office into +which he had popped it a moment before--he was bidden to say what it +was he could do. Almost too surprised at the change in greeting to be +able to reply, he stumbled back into the place and stood a moment in +rather stupid silence before his questioner. + +"Well, ain't yer got no tongue in yer head, young feller? Seemed ter +have a minute ago. Ef yer can't speak up no better 'n this, yer ain't +the boy fer us." + +But by this time Larry had recovered himself sufficiently to blurt out: +"I kin lift an' haul an' run errants an' do all sorts o' work about the +place. Won't ye try me, Mister? Lemme carry out that box ter show ye +how strong I am;" and suiting the action to the words, he shouldered a +heavy packing-case and was out upon the sidewalk and depositing it upon +a wagon, already piled with trunks and luggage, before the man had time +to reply. + +When he returned to the door-step he was greeted with the grateful +intelligence that he might stay a bit and see how he got along as an +errand-boy if he liked; and, of course, _liking_, he started in at once +upon his new office. + +That was the beginning. It gave him occupation and, food, but scarcely +more than that at first. He had no time for dreaming now, but often +when he had a brief moment to himself would take out of his pocket the +piece of chalk with which he marked the trunks he carried, and sketch +with it upon some rough box-lid or other the picture of a face or form +which he saw in his fancy; so that after a time he was known among the +men as "the artist feller," and grew to have quite a little reputation +among them. + +How the rest came about even Larry himself found it hard to tell. But +by and by he was drawing with pencil and pen, and selling his sketches +for what he could get, buying now a brush and then some paints with the +scanty proceeds, and working upon his bits of canvas with all the ardor +of a Raphael himself. + + +A man sat before an easel in a crowded studio one day, give the last +touch to a painting that stood before him. It pictured the figure of a +lad, ragged and forlorn, lying asleep beneath some sheltering trees. +At first that seems all there was to be seen upon the canvas; but if +one looked closer one was able to discover another figure amid the +vaporous, soft glooms of the place. It grew ever more distinct, until +one had no difficulty in distinguishing the form of a maiden, fair and +frail as a dream. She was bending over the slumbering body of the boy, +as if to arouse him to life by the whispered words she was breathing +against his cheek. + +The artist scrawled his signature in the corner of his completed work +and set the canvas in its frame, and then stood before it, scrutinizing +it closely. + +"'The Waking Soul!'--I wonder if that is a good name for it?" murmured +he to himself. And then, after a moment, he said to the pictured lad,-- + +"Well, Larry, little fellow, the dream's come true; and here we are, +you and I,--you, Larry, and I, Lawrence,--with the 'wish grown strong +to an endeavor, and the endeavor to an achievement.' Are you glad, +Boy?" + + + + +BETTY'S BY-AND-BY. + + "'One, two, three! + The humble-bee! + The rooster crows, + And away she goes!'" + + +And down from the low railing of the piazza jumped Betty into the soft +heap of new-mown grass that seemed to have been especially placed where +it could tempt her and make her forget--or, at least, "not +remember"--that she was wanted indoors to help amuse the baby for an +hour. + +It was a hot summer day, and Betty had been running and jumping and +skipping and prancing all the morning, so she was now rather tired; and +after she had jumped from the piazza-rail into the heap of grass she +did not hop up nimbly at once, but lay quite still, burying her face in +the sweet-smelling hay and fragrant clover, feeling very comfortable +and contented. + +"Betty! Betty!" + +"Oh dear!" thought the little maid, diving still deeper into the light +grass, "there's Olga calling me to take care of Roger while she gets +his bread and milk ready. I don't see why she can't wait a minute till +I rest. It's too hot now. Baby can do without his dinner for a +minute, I should think,--just a minute or so. He won't mind. He 's +glad to wait if only you give him Mamma's chain and don't take away her +watch. Ye-es, Olga,--I 'll come--by and by." + +A big velvety humble-bee came, boom! against Betty's head, and got +tangled in her hair. He shook himself free and went reeling on his way +in quite a drunken fashion, thinking probably that was a very +disagreeable variety of dandelion he had stumbled across,--quite too +large and fluffy for comfort, though it was such a pretty yellow. + +Betty lazily raised her head and peered after him. "I wonder where +you're going," she said, half aloud. + +The humble-bee veered about and came bouncing back in her direction +again, and when he reached the little grass-heap in which she lay, +stopped so suddenly that he went careering over in the most ridiculous +fashion possible, and Betty laughed aloud. But to her amazement the +humble-bee righted himself in no time at all, and then remarked in +quite a dignified manner and with some asperity,-- + +"If I were a little girl with gilt hair and were n't doing what I +ought, and if I had wondered where a body was going and the body had +come back expressly to tell me, I think I 'd have the politeness not to +laugh if the body happened to lose his balance and fall,--especially +when the body was going to get up in less time than it would take me to +wink,--I being only a little girl, and he being a most respected member +of the Busy-bee Society. However, I suppose one must make allowances +for the way in which children are brought up nowadays. When I was a +little--" + +"Now, _please_ don't say, 'When I was a little girl,'--for you never +were a little girl, you know," interrupted Betty, not intending to be +saucy, but feeling rather provoked that a mere humble-bee should +undertake to rebuke her. "Mamma always says, 'When I was a little +girl,' and so does Aunt Louie, and so does everybody; and I 'm tired of +hearing about it, so there!" + +The humble-bee gave his gorgeous waistcoat a pull which settled it more +smoothly over his stout person, and remarked shortly,-- + +"In the first place, I was n't going to say, 'When I was a little +girl.' I was going to say, 'When I was a little _leaner_,' but you +snapped me up so. However, it's true, isn't it? Everybody was a +little girl once, were n't she?--was n't they?--hem!--confusing weather +for talking, very! And what is true one ought to be glad to hear, eh?" + +"But it is n't true that everybody was once a little girl; some were +little boys. There!" + +"Do you know," whispered the humble-bee, in a very impressive +undertone, as if it were a secret that he did not wish any one else to +hear, "that you are a very re-mark-a-ble young person to have been able +to remind me, at a moment's notice, that some were little boys? +Why-ee!" + +Betty was a trifle uncomfortable. She had a vague idea the humble-bee +was making sport of her. The next moment she was sure of it; for he +burst into a deep laugh, and shook so from side to side that she +thought he would surely topple off the wisp of hay on which he was +sitting. + +"I think you 're real mean," said Betty, as he slowly recovered +himself; "I don't like folks to laugh at me, now!" + +"I 'm not laughing at you _now_," explained the humble-bee, gravely; "I +was laughing at you _then_. Do you object to that?" + +Betty disdained to reply, and began to pull a dry clover-blossom to +pieces. + +"Tut, tut, child! Don't be so touchy! A body can laugh, can't he, and +no harm done? You 'd better be good-tempered and jolly, and then I 'll +tell you where I 'm going,--which, I believe, was what you wished to +know in the first place, was n't it?" + +Betty nodded her head, but did not speak. + +"Oho!" said the humble-bee, rising and preparing to take his departure. +And now Betty discovered, on seeing him more closely, that he was not a +humble-bee at all, but just a very corpulent old gentleman dressed in +quite an antique fashion, with black knee-breeches, black silk +stockings, black patent-leather pumps with large buckles, a most +elaborate black velvet waistcoat with yellow and orange stripes across, +and a coat of black velvet to correspond with the breeches; while in +his hand he carried a very elegant three-cornered hat, which, out of +respect to her, he had removed from his head at the first moment of +their meeting. "So we are sulky?" he went on. "Dear, dear! That is a +very disagreeable condition to allow one's self to relapse into. H'm, +h'm! very unpleasant, very! Under the circumstances I think I 'd +better be going; for if you 'll believe me, I 'm pressed for time, and +have none to waste, and only came back to converse with you because you +addressed a civil question to me, which, being a gentleman, I was bound +to answer. Good--" + +He would have said "by;" but Betty sprang to her feet and cried: +"Please don't leave me. I 'll be good and pleasant, only please don't +go. _Please_ tell me where you 're going, and if--if you would be so +good, I 'd like ever and ever so much to go along. Don't--do--may I?" + +The little gentleman looked her over from head to foot, and then +replied in a hesitating sort of way: "You may not be aware of it, but +you are extremely incautious. What would you do if I were to whisk you +off and never bring you back, eh?" + +"You don't look like a kidnapper, sir," said Betty, respectfully. + +"A what?" inquired the little gentleman. + +"A kidnapper," repeated Betty. + +"What's that?" questioned her companion. + +"Oh, a person who steals little children. Don't you know?" + +"But why _kidnapper_?" insisted the little old man. + +"I suppose because he naps kids. My uncle Will calls Roger and me +'kids.' It is n't very nice of him, is it?" she asked, glad to air her +grievance. + +"Child-stealer would be more to the point, I think, or +infant-abductor," remarked the old gentleman, who saw, perhaps, how +anxious Betty was for sympathy, and was determined not to give her +another opportunity of considering herself injured. + +He seemed to be very busy considering the subject for a second or so, +and then he said suddenly: "But if you want to go, why, come along, for +I must be off. But don't make a practice of it, mind, when you get +back." + +"You have n't told me where yet," suggested Betty. + +"True; so I have n't," said the old gentleman, setting his +three-cornered hat firmly on his head and settling the fine laces at +his wrists. "It's to By-and-by. And now, if you 're ready, off we go!" + +He took Betty's hand, and she suddenly found herself moving through the +air in a most remarkable manner,--not touching the ground with her +feet, but seeming to skim along quite easily and with no effort at all. + +"If you please, Mr.--" She paused because she suddenly remembered that +she did not know the name of the gentleman who was conducting her on so +delightful a journey. + +"Bombus," said he, cheerfully,--"B. Bombus, Esq., of Clovertop Manse, +Honeywell." + +"But you 're not a minister, are you?" inquired Betty. + +"No; why?" returned the gentleman, quickly. + +"Because you said 'Manse.' A manse is a minister's house, is n't it?" +asked Betty. + +"No, not always," Bombus replied. "But I call my place Clovertop Manse +because it belongs to me and not to my wife, do you see? I call it +Manse because it _is_ a man's. It is perfectly plain. If it was a +woman's, I 'd say so." + +"Well, I don't think you 're much of a _humble_-bee--" began Betty, and +then caught herself up short and stopped. + +Mr. Bombus gave her a severe look from under his three-cornered hat, +but did not reply at once, and they advanced on their way for some +little time in silence. Then the gentleman said: + +"I 've been thinking of what you said about my not being a humble-bee. +Of course I am not a humble-bee, but you seemed to lay considerable +stress on the first part of the word, as if you had a special meaning. +Explain!" + +Poor Betty blushed very red with shame and confusion; but the gentleman +had a commanding way with him and she dared not disobey. + +"I only meant, sir," she stammered,--"I only meant--I--did n't think +you were very humble, because you seemed very proud about the place +being yours. I thought you were 'stuck up,' as my brother says." + +"Stuck up? Where?" queried Mr. Bombus, anxiously. "Pray don't make +such unpleasant insinuations. They quite set my heart to throbbing. +I knew--I mean I saw a humble-bee once," he remarked impressively, "and +would you believe it, a little boy caught him and impaled him on a pin. +It was horrible. He died in the most dreadful agony,--the bee, not the +boy,--and then the boy secured him to the wall; made him fast there. +So he was stuck up. You surely can't mean--" + +"Oh, no, indeed! I meant only proud," replied Betty, contritely; for +Mr. Bombus's face had really grown pale with horror at the remembrance +of the bee's awful fate, and she was very sorry she had occasioned him +such discomfort. + +"Then why did n't you say only 'proud'?" asked her companion, sharply. +"You said 'proud,' and then added 'stuck up.'" + +Betty thought it was about time to change the subject, so she observed +quietly that By-and-by seemed a long way off. + +"Of course it is a long way off," replied her companion. "Don't you +wish it to be a long way off?" + +Betty hesitated. "Well, I don't think I ever wished much about it. +Can you tell me how many miles it is from some place I know about? You +see, Mr. Bombus, I am pretty sure it is n't in the geography. At +least, I don't remember that I ever saw it on the map. Could n't you +tell me where it is?" + +Mr. Bombus considered a moment, And then asked, "Do you know where Now +is?" + +Betty thought a minute, and then replied, "I suppose it is Here, sir." + +"Right!" assented the old gentleman, promptly. "Now, if you had said +There, it would have been wrong; for Then is There. You see, this is +the way: When we have lived in Now until it is all used up, it changes +into Then, and, instead of being Here, is There. I hope it's plain to +you. Well, you asked me where By-and-by was. That 's the very thing +about it: it never was, not even _is_; it's always _going to be_, and +it's generally a rather long way from Now; so, if you know where Now +is, you can make your own calculations as to the distance of By-and-by." + +"But I don't know anything about calculating distances," said Betty, +dolefully. + +"It does n't matter," remarked Mr. Bombus; "for even if you did you +could n't apply it in this case. But we 're getting on in our journey. +Yes, indeed, we seem to be really getting on." + +"Why, I should hope so!" returned Betty. "It seems to me I never flew +so fast in all my life before and for such a long time. If we were n't +getting on, I think I should be discouraged. We seem to be almost +running a race, we go so quickly." + +"We are running a race," observed Mr. Bombus. + +Betty opened her eyes wide and said: "Why, _I_ did n't know it. When +did we begin?" + +"When we started, Child. Pray, don't be stupid!" replied her friend, a +little severely. + +"But with whom are we running it?" queried Betty. + +"With Time," whispered Mr. Bombus, confidentially. "One always has to +beat him before one can get to By-and-by. And then it depends on one's +self whether one likes it or not after one gets there." + +But even as he spoke Betty seemed to feel herself hurried along more +rapidly than ever, as if she were making a final effort to outstrip +some one; and then she was brought to so sudden a standstill that she +had to do her best to keep from falling forward, and was still quite +dizzy with her effort when she heard a panting voice say, "That last +rush quite took away my breath!" and found herself being addressed by +Mr. Bombus, who was very red in the face and gasping rather painfully, +and whom she had, for the moment, forgotten. + +Betty said: "My, Mr. Bombus, how warm you are! Sit right down on the +grass and cool off before we go any farther, please." + +"Oh, dear, no!" objected her companion. "That would be terribly +imprudent, with these cold autumn winds blowing so; and winter just +over there. I 'd catch my death, Child." + +"Why, I 'm sure," replied Betty, "I don't know what you mean. It's as +summer as it can be. It's a hot August day, and if you can't sit +outdoors in August, I 'd like to know when you can." + +"Allow me to inform you, my dear child, that it isn't August at all; +and if you had half an eye you 'd see it, let alone feel it. Do these +leaves look as if it were August?" and he pointed to a clump of trees +whose foliage shone red and yellow in the sunlight. + +Betty started. "Good gracious!" she exclaimed. "How came they to +change so early?" + +"It _is n't_ early," explained Mr. Bombus. "It's the last of +October,--even later,--and keeps getting more so every minute." + +"But," insisted Betty, "it was August when I first saw you, a few hours +ago, and--" + +"Yes, _then_ it was August," assented Mr. Bombus; "but we 've got +beyond that. We 're in By-and-by. Did n't you hear your mother say it +would be October by and by, and it _is_ October. Time is jogging on, +back there in the world; but we beat him, you see, and are safe and +sound--far ahead of him--in By-and-by. Things are being done here that +are always _going_ to be done behind there. It's great fun." + +But at these words Betty's face grew very grave, and a sudden thought +struck her that was anything but "great fun." Would she be set to +doing all the things she had promised to do "by and by"? + +"I 'm afraid so," said Mr. Bombus, replying to her question though she +had only _thought_ it. "I told you it depended on one's self if one +were going to like By-and-by or not. Evidently you 're _not_. Oh! +going so soon? You must have been a lazy little girl to be set about +settling your account as quick as this. See you later! Good--" + +But again he was not permitted to say "by," for before he could fairly +get the word out, Betty was whisked away, and Mr. Bombus stood solitary +and alone under a bare maple-tree, chuckling to himself in an amused +fashion and, it must be confessed, in a spiteful. + +"It 'll be a good lesson for her. She deserves it," he said to +himself; and Betty seemed to hear him, though she was by this time far +away. + +Poor child! she did not know where she was going nor what would take +place next, and was pretty well frightened at feeling herself powerless +to do anything against the unknown force that was driving her on. + +But even while she was wondering she ceased to wonder; and what was +going to happen had happened, and she found herself standing in an +enormous hall that was filled with countless children, of all ages and +nationalities,--and some who were not children at all,--every one of +whom was hurrying to and fro and in and out, while all the time a voice +from somewhere was calling out names and dates in such rapid succession +that Betty was fairly deafened with the sound. There was a continual +stir in the assembly, and people were appearing and reappearing +constantly in the most perplexing manner, so that it made one quite +dizzy to look on. But Betty was not permitted to look long, for in the +midst of the haranguing of the dreadful voice she seemed to distinguish +something that sounded strangely familiar. + +"Betty Bleecker," it called, "began her account here when she was five +years old by the World calculation. Therefore she has the undone +duties of seven years--World count--to perform. Let her set about +paying off her debt at once, and stop only when the account is +squared;" whereupon Betty was again whisked off, and had not even time +to guess where, before she found herself in a place that reminded her +strangely of home and yet was not home at all. Then a wearisome round +of tasks began. + +She picked up pins, she opened doors, she shut windows, she raised +shades, she closed shutters, she ran errands, she delivered messages, +she practised scales, she studied lessons, she set her doll-house in +order and replaced her toys, she washed her face and brushed her hair, +she picked currants and stoned raisins, she hung up her skipping-rope +and fastened her sash; and so she went on from one thing to another +until she was almost ready to cry with weariness and fatigue. Half the +things she did she had forgotten she had ever promised to do. But she +had sent them into By-and-by, and here they were to be done, and do +them she must. On and on she went, until after a while the tasks she +had to perform began to gain a more familiar look, and she recognized +them as being unkept promises of quite a recent date. She dusted her +room, she darned her stockings, she mended her apron, she fed her bird, +she wrote a letter, she read her Bible; and at last, after an endless +space and when tears of real anguish were coursing down her cheeks, she +found herself amusing the baby, and discovered that she had come to the +last of her long line of duties and was cancelling her debt to +By-and-by. + +As soon as all was finished she felt herself being hurried, still +sobbing and crying, back to the place from which she had started, and +on entering heard the same voice she had listened to before, say,-- + +"Betty Bleecker's account is squared. Let a receipted bill be given +her; advise her to run up no more accounts, and send her home." + +At these words Betty wept afresh, but not now from sorrow, but from +gladness at the thought of returning home. And before she could even +realize it, she was standing beside Mr. Bombus again, with something in +her hand which she clutched tightly and which proved to be a signed +receipt for her debt to By-and-by. Then she heard her companion say,-- + +"Like to look about a bit before you leave? By-and-by's a busy place; +don't you think so?" + +And Betty replied promptly, "Oh, no, sir--yes, sir--not at all, sir--if +you please, sir;" quite too frantic at the thought of having to go +back, even for a moment, to answer the questions. + +But all the while she was very angry with Mr. Bombus for bringing her +there, quite forgetting she had pleaded with him to do so; and his +smiling at her in that very superior fashion provoked her sadly, and +she began upbraiding him, between her sobs and tears, for his +unkindness and severity. + +"It would only have been harder in the end," replied her companion, +calmly. "Now you 've paid them and can take care not to run up any +more debts; for, mark my words, you 'll have to square your account +every time, and the longer it runs the worse it will be. Nothing in +the world, in the way of responsibility, ever goes scot-free. You have +to pay in one way or another for everything you do or leave undone, and +the sooner you know it the better." + +Betty was sobbing harder than ever, and when she thought she caught a +triumphant gleam in Mr. Bombus's eyes and heard him humming in an +aggravating undertone, "In the Sweet By-and-by," she could restrain +herself no longer, but raised her hand and struck him a sounding blow. +Instantly she was most deeply repentant, and would have begged his +pardon; but as she turned to address him, his cocked hat flew off, his +legs doubled up under him, his eyes rolled madly, and then with a +fierce glare at her he roared in a voice of thunder: "BET-TY!" + +And there she was in the soft grass-heap, sobbing with fright and +clutching tightly in her hand a fistful of straw; while yonder in the +wistaria-vine a humble-bee was settling, and a voice from the house was +heard calling her name: + +"Betty! BET-TY!" + + + + +THE WHITE ANGEL + +Once upon a time there lived in a far country a man and his wife, and +they were very poor. Every morning the man went his way into the +forest, and there he chopped wood until the sky in the west flushed +crimson because of the joy it felt at having the great sun pass that +way; and when the last rim of the red ball disappeared behind the line +of the hills, the man would shoulder his ax and trudge wearily home. + +In the mean time the wife went about in the little hut, making it clean +and neat, and perhaps singing as she worked,--for she was a cheery soul. + +Well, one day--perhaps it was because she was very tired and worn; I do +not know--but one day she sat down by the door of her hut, and was just +about to begin sewing on some rough piece of hempen cloth she had in +her lap, when, lo! she fell asleep. + +Now, this was very strange indeed, and even in her dream she seemed to +wonder at herself and say: "I have never slept in the daytime before. +What can it mean? What will Hans think of me if he should come home +and find me napping in the doorway and his supper not ready for him, +nor the table spread?" + +But by and by she ceased to wonder at all, and just sat leaning against +the door-frame, breathing softly, like a little child that is dreaming +sweet dreams. + +But presently the trees of the forest began to bow their heads, and the +wind chanted low and sweet, as though in praise; the sun shot a golden +beam along the foot-path, and made it glitter and shine, and then a +wonderful silence seemed to fall on the place, and before her stood an +angel, white-robed and beautiful. He said no word, but stretched out +his arms to her and would have taken her to his heart, but that she +cried out with a great fear,-- + +"Ah, no! not yet; I cannot go yet. I am young, and life is sweet. I +cannot give it up. Do not take me yet!" and she fell at his feet. + +The angel smiled sadly and said: "Be it so, then. I will not take, I +will give. But bemoan thou not thy choice when the life thou deemest +so sweet seems but bitter, and thy load more heavy than thou canst +bear. I will come once again;" and smiling down upon her, he was gone. + +With a great cry she rose; for the light that shone all about the angel +seemed to make many things clear to her, and she would have been glad +to do his will, but it was now too late. + +The tree-tops were motionless again, the wind had ceased its chanting, +the sun had withdrawn its wondrous light, and along the worn little +foot-path came Hans with his ax upon his shoulder. She said nothing to +him about her dream, for she was afraid; but she got his supper for +him, and when the stars had slipped out from behind the spare clouds, +he had dropped to sleep and left her to lie awake gazing at them +silently until each one seemed to smile at her with the smile of an +angel, and then it was morning, and she had slept, after all, and the +sun was shining. + +After that Christina was always busy preparing for the gift the angel +had promised her, and she sang gayly from morning till night, and was +very glad. + +So the months rolled along, and the memory of her dream had almost +faded from Christina's mind. Then one day a strange sound was heard in +the little hut,--the sound of a baby's crying. Hans heard it as he +came along, and it made his eyes shine with gladness. He hastened his +steps, and smiled to himself as he thought of his joy in having a +little child to fondle and caress. + +But at the door he paused, for he heard another sound besides that of +the baby's voice. It was Christina's, and she was weeping bitterly. + +In a moment he was beside her, and then he knew. There he lay,--their +little son. The angel's gift,--a wee cripple. Not a bone in all his +little body was straight and firm. Only his eyes were strangely +beautiful, and now they were filled with tears. + +"It were better he had died, and thou, also, Christina," sobbed Hans. +"It were better we had all three died before this sorrow was brought +upon us." But Christina only wept. + +So the years went by, and the baby lived and grew. It was always in +pain, but it seldom cried; and Christina could not be impatient when +she saw how uncomplaining the little child was. + +When he was old enough she told him what she never told any one +before,--the story of the angel; and his eyes were more beautiful than +ever when she wept because she could not suffer it all alone, but must +see him suffer too. And while Hans scarcely noticed the boy, Christina +spent all her time thinking of him and teaching him, and together they +prayed to the white angel to bless them. + +But as the years went on many men came to the forest and felled the +trees, not with axes but with huge saws; and so Hans was turned away, +for no one wanted a wood-chopper now. And so they were in great +trouble; and Hans grew rough and ill-tempered, and did not try to use +the saw, nor would he ask the men to let him work. He would only stand +idly by, and often Christina thought the blessings she prayed for were +turned to curses; but she never told the child her sorrow, and still +they prayed on to the white angel to bless them. When Christina saw +Hans would really do no work, she said no more, but sewed and spun for +the men about who had no wives, and in this way she earned enough to +buy food and wood. It was very little she could earn, and she often +grew impatient at the sight of Hans smoking idly in the doorway; but +when she said a hasty word the boy's eyes seemed to grow big with a +deep trouble, and she would check herself and work on in silence. But +the more she worked, the idler grew Hans and the more ill-tempered; and +he would laugh when he heard them pray to the angel to bless them. +Instead of blessings new sorrow seemed to be born every day; for Hans +was injured by a falling tree, and was brought home with both his legs +crushed, and laid helpless and moaning on the rough bed. + +These were weary days for Christina; but she did not rebel, even when +Hans swore at her and the child, and made the place hideous with his +oaths. + +"You brought us all these troubles, you wretched boy!" he would say. +"Don't talk to _me_ of patience. Why don't you pray to your angel for +curses, and then we may have some good luck again? As it is, you might +as well pray to the Devil himself." + +But the child only drew Christina's head closer to his poor little +misshapen breast, and whispered to her, "It is not so, is it, little +mother?" + +And she always answered: "No, dear heart. They are indeed blessings if +we will only recognize them. It we prayed only for happiness, we might +think the white angel heard us not; but we pray for blessings, and so +he sends us what we pray for, and what he sends is best." + +Then again the boy's eyes shone with a great light, and there seemed a +radiance about his head; but Christina was kissing his shapeless little +hands and did not see. + +One day Christina was returning with a fresh bundle of work in her +arms, when, just as she came in sight of the hut, she saw a pillar of +smoke rise black and awful to the sky from the rude roof of the place. + +In a moment she felt a horrible fear for Hans and the child. Neither +of them could move; and must they lie helpless and forsaken in the face +of such a fearful death? She ran as though her feet were winged. +Nearer and nearer she came, and now she saw the flames rise and lick +the smoky column with great lapping tongues of fire. + +Nearer and nearer she came, and the crowd of men about the hut stood +stricken and dared not venture in. + +"It is of no use," they screamed. "We did not know soon enough, and +now it is too late; we should smother if we tried to save them." + +But she tore her way through the crowd and flung herself into the +burning place. + +Hans, writhing and screaming, had managed to drag himself near the +door; and thinking, "The child is more fit for heaven, I will save Hans +first," she lifted him in her arms and carried him outside. It was as +though some great strength had been given her, for she carried him as +if he had been a little child. Then into the hut she went once more, +and to the bed of the child. But now the flames were licking her feet, +and the smoke blinded her. She groped her way to the bed and felt for +the boy, but he was not in his accustomed place; and she was about to +fling herself upon the little couch in despair, when a great light +filled the place,--not the red light of the flames, but a clear white +flood such as she had only seen once before. + +There stood the white angel, radiant, glorious; and looking up she saw +him smiling down at her with the eyes of the boy. + +"I am come again," he said. "When you would not give me your life, I +gave you mine, and it was spent in pain and torture. Now that you +would gladly give yours to spare me, you are to taste the sweetest of +all blessings. The lesson is over; it is done." And he took her in +his arms and she was filled with a great joy, for she knew the angel +had answered all her prayers. She remembered the words: "He that +findeth his life shall lose it; and he that loseth his life for my sake +shall find it." + +The men outside waited in vain for Christina, and when she did not come +they shook their heads and some of them wept. They did not know. + + + + +IN THE PIED PIPER'S MOUNTAIN. + +It was a great honor, let me tell you; and Doris, as she sat by the +window studying, could not help thinking of it and feeling just a wee +bit important. + +"It is n't as if I were the oldest girl," said she to herself. "No, +indeed; I 'm younger than most of them, and yet when it came to +choosing who should speak, and we were each given a chance to vote, I +had the most ballots. Miss Smith told me I could recite anything I +chose, but to be sure it was 'good,' and that it was not 'beyond me.' +Well, this is n't 'beyond me.' I guess;" and she began:-- + + "Hamelin Town 's in Brunswick, + By famous Hanover City; + The river Weser, deep and wide, + Washes its walls on the southern side,-- + A pleasanter spot you never spied. + But, when begins my ditty, + Almost five hundred years ago, + To see the townfolk suffer so + With vermin was a pity." + +For she had chosen Browning's "Pied Piper of Hamelin." That was surely +"good;" and if it was long, why, it was "so interesting." As she went +along she could almost see the rats as they "fought the dogs and killed +the cats." She could almost see the great Mayor tremble as the people +flocked to him and threatened to "send him packing" if he did n't find +some means to rid them of those awful rats. She could almost hear the +Pied Piper's voice as he offered to clear the town of the pests; and it +seemed to her she could hear the music of his pipe as he stepped into +the street and began to play, while the rats from every hole and cranny +followed him to the very banks of the Weser, where they were drowned in +the rolling tide. + +It seemed awful that after promising the Piper those fifty thousand +guilders, the Mayor should break his word; and it certainly was +terrible, when the Piper found he had been duped, that he should again +begin to pipe, and that the children--yes, every one in Hamelin +Town--should follow him just as the rats had done, and that by and by +he should lead them to the mountain-side, that it should open, and +that, lo! after they had all passed in, it should close again, leaving +only one little lame boy outside, weeping bitterly because he had not +been able to walk fast enough to keep up with the merry crowd. It was +all so distinct and plain. + +She wondered where the children went after the hill-side shut them in. +She wondered what they saw. She thought the Piper's music must have +been very odd indeed to charm them so. She could almost hear-- _What +was that_? She gave a start; for sure as you live, she heard the sound +of a fife piping shrill and loud round the corner. She flung down the +book and ran into the street. The air was cold and sharp and made her +shiver, but she did not stop to think of that; she was listening to +that Piper who was coming around the side of the house,--nearer and +nearer. She meant to follow him, whoever he was. There! How the wind +whistled and the leaves scurried! + +Wind! Leaves! Why, it was the Pied Piper himself with his puffed +cheeks and tattered coat; and before him ran the host of children, +dancing, as they went, to the tune of the Piper's fife. + +Away--away-- + +With a bound Doris left the door-step and followed after, running and +fluttering, skipping and skurrying, sometimes like a little girl and +sometimes like a big leaf,--she had n't time to ask herself which she +really was; for all the while she was listening to that wonderful fife +as it whistled and wailed, shrieked and sighed, and seemed to coax them +on all the while. + +She followed blindly after the rest of the whirling crowd. + +Away they went, always more and more,--away they went, clear out of +town and into the bare country,--away they went; and the Piper behind +them made his fife-notes shriller and louder, so that all could hear, +and they seemed to be carried along in spite of themselves. + +It was like a race in a dream. Their feet seemed not to touch the +ground. The leaves rustled--no, the children chattered as they +fluttered--no, hurried along. Doris could catch little sentences here +and there; but they seemed to be in a strange tongue, and she did not +understand. But by and by she grew very familiar with the sounds, and, +strangely enough, she found she could make out the meaning of the queer +words. + +"It 's German," she thought; "I know they're talking German;" and so +she listened very attentively. + +"Sie ist eine Fremde," she heard one say to another; "sie gehoert nicht +zu uns,"--which she immediately knew meant: "She is a stranger; she +doesn't belong to us." + +"Nein," replied the other; "aber sie scheint gut und brav zu sein." At +which Doris smiled; she liked to be thought "good and sweet." + +On and on they went; and after a time things began to have a very +foreign look, and this startled Doris considerably. + +"We can't have crossed the ocean," she thought. But when she asked her +nearest neighbor where they were and whether they had crossed the +Atlantic, he smiled and said,-- + +"Ja, gewiss; wir sind in Deutschland. Wir gehen, schon, nach +Hamelin,"--which rather puzzled Doris; for she found they had crossed +the sea and were in Germany and going to Hamelin. + +"It must be the Piper's wonderful way," she thought. + +But she did not feel at all homesick nor tired nor afraid; for the +Piper's fife seemed to keep them all in excellent spirits, and she +found herself wondering what she would do when they came to the fabled +hill-side,--for she never doubted they would go there. On they went, +faster and faster, the Piper behind them playing all the while. + +She saw the broad river; and all the children shouted, "Die Weser." + +One little flaxen-haired girl told her they were nearing Hamelin. + +"It used to have a big wall around it, with twenty towers and a large +fort; but that was all blown up by the French, years and years ago," +she explained. + +"But it has a chain-bridge," she remarked proudly,--"a chain-bridge +that stretches quite across the Weser." + +Doris was just about to say: "Why, that's nothing! We have a huge +suspension bridge in New York;" but the words seemed to twist +themselves into a different form, and the memory of home to melt away, +and she found herself murmuring, "Ach, so?" quite like the rest of the +little Teutons. + +But at length the fife ceased playing, and the children stopped. + +There they were in quaint old Hamelin, with its odd wooden houses, and +its old Munster that was all falling to ruin, and its rosy-cheeked +children, who did not seem to notice the new-comers at all. + +"We must be invisible," thought Doris; and indeed they were. + +Then the Pied Piper came forward and beckoned them on, and softly they +followed him to the very hill-side, that opened, as Doris knew it +would, and they found themselves in a vast hall. A low rumbling +startled Doris for a moment, but then she knew it was only the +hill-side closing upon them. She seemed to hear a faint cry as the +last sound died, away, and was tempted to run back, for she feared some +child had been hurt; but her companion said,-- + +"It can't be helped, dear; he _always_ gets left outside, and then he +weeps. You see he is lame, and he cannot keep up with us." + +So Doris knew it was the self-same little lad of whom Browning had +written in his story of the Piper. + +What a chattering there was, to be sure; and what a crowd was gathered +about the Piper at the farther end of the hall! Every once in a while +all the children would laugh so loudly that the very ceiling shook. It +was such a merry throng. + +"Tell me," said Doris to her little neighbor,--"tell me, are you always +so gay here? Do you never quarrel? and have you really lived in this +hillside all this long, long time,--ever since the Piper first came to +Hamelin five hundred years ago?" + +"Ja, wohl," replied the girl, nodding her flaxen head. "We are always +so happy; we never quarrel; therefore we are ever young, and what thou +callest five hundred years are as nothing to us. Ah! we are well cared +for here, and the Piper teaches us, and we him; and we play and frolic +and sometimes travel, 'und so geht's.'" + +"But what can you teach _him_?" asked Doris, wondering. + +"Ah! many things. We teach him to tune his fife to the sounds of our +laughter, so that when he travels he may pipe new songs. Ah! thou +foolish one, thou thoughtest him the _wind_. And we teach him to be as +a little child, and then he keeps young always, and his heart is warm +and glad. And we teach him-- But thou shalt see;" and she nodded +again, and smiled into Doris's wondering eyes. + +The hall they were in was long and wide, and hung all about the walls +were the most beautiful pictures, that seemed to shift and change every +moment into something more strange and lovely. And as Doris looked she +seemed to know what the pictures were,--and they were only reflections +of the children's pure souls that shone out of their eyes. + +"How beautiful!" she thought. + +But the Piper was singing to them now; and as she drew nearer him she +saw he had two little tots in his arms, and was putting them to sleep +on his breast. + +So the children were still while the Piper sang his lullaby, and +presently the two little ones began to nod; and the Piper did not move, +but held them to his kind heart until they were fast asleep. Then he +rose and carried them away and laid them down somewhere. Doris could +not see where, but it must have been far enough away to be out of the +sound of their voices; for when he came back he did not lower his +tones, but spoke up quite naturally and laughed gayly as he said,-- + +"Well, what now, Children? Shall we show the new friend our +manufactory?" + +And they were all so anxious to do whatever he proposed that in a +moment they had formed quite a bodyguard about the Pied Piper, and were +following and leading him down the vast hall. + +"What is the manufactory?" asked Doris of a boy who happened to be +beside her. + +"Wait and thou shalt see!" he replied. "We always are patient until +the Herr Piper is ready to tell us what he wishes; then we listen and +attend." + +Doris would have felt that the boy was snubbing her if his eyes had not +been so kind and his voice so sweet. As it was she took it all +pleasantly, and determined to ask no more questions, but to content +herself with as much information as the Piper was willing to bestow +upon her. + +But now they had passed out of the first great hall and into another +that seemed even more vast. At first it seemed quite empty to Doris, +but as soon as her eyes grew accustomed to the strange light, she saw +its walls were flanked by any number of wee spinning-wheels; and above +them on shelves lay stacks of something that looked like golden flax, +and shimmered and glittered in a wonderful way. The floor was carpeted +with something very soft and of a tender, fresh green, and Doris's feet +seemed to sink into it at every step; and then a sweet perfume seemed +to rise up like that one smells on an early spring-day when one goes +into the country and is the first to lay foot on the fresh young grass. +The ceiling was so high that at first Doris thought it was no ceiling +at all, but just the sky itself, and it was a deep, clear blue. + +"This is our Spring-room, little Doris," explained the Piper. "Now, +Children!" + +And at these words they broke away from him, leaving only Doris by his +side; and each group began a different task. One new to the stacks of +gold and separated them into long, heavy skeins; while another spun the +threads back and forth till they sparkled and danced and seemed to turn +into sunbeams that at length broke away and glanced into the blue +above, where they played about just as the sunlight does on a bright +spring-day. Others, again, knelt down upon the soft carpet, and seemed +to be whispering something very sweet to some one or something hidden +below; and before very long up sprang long, tender shoots, and then +thin buds appeared, and by and by the buds swelled and burst, and then +where every bud had been was a flower. And all this time there had +been a sound as of falling drops that seemed to be keeping time to a +soft little melody the children were crooning. + +The Piper, looking at Doris's wondering face, said, smiling: "Thou dost +not comprehend, dear heart? Well, I will explain. As I said, this is +our Spring-room, and in it all the sunshine and flowers and clouds and +rain are made that go to make up a spring day. They," he said, +pointing to the first group, "are separating the golden skeins so that +they can be spun into sunbeams. It takes great patience before they +are completely finished; and if one of the spinners should sigh while +weaving, it would ruin the beam and make it dull and heavy. So, you +see, the sunbeam-children must be very light-hearted. Then those +others are coaxing the flowers to spring up and bud. After they are +all well above ground the flower-children hide a secret in the heart of +each blossom, and a very beautiful secret it is, and so wonderful that +very few ever succeed in finding it out. But it is worth searching +for, and one or two world-people have really discovered it. Thou mayst +guess what a difficult task is that of my flower-children; for at first +the flowers are drowsy and would prefer to slumber yet awhile; and my +children must whisper to them such beautiful thoughts that they forget +everything else and spring up to hear more. The singing thou nearest +is the lullaby the rain-children are singing to the drops. Thou +knowest that the clouds are the rain-cradles, and when my children sing +slumber songs and rock the clouds gently to and fro, the drops grow +sleepy and forget to fall. But sometimes they are too restless to +remain in their beds, and then they fall to earth; and if we could wait +so long we might hear the children teach them their patter-song. But +we have much else to see, and must go forward. Now, Children!" + +At this there was a slight commotion while the deft hands put aside +their tasks; but it was over in a moment, and the Piper once more in +the midst of the merry crowd, who laughed gayly and chattered like +magpies, while Doris looked her admiration and delight, and the Piper +smiled approvingly. + +"The next is the Summer-room," he said, as they wandered on. "Thou +seest we are never idle. The world is so large, there is always plenty +to do; and what would become of it if it were not for the children? +They are the ones who make the world bright, little Doris; and so +everything depends upon their keeping their hearts glad; and one 's +heart cannot be glad if one's soul is not beautiful. Thou thoughtest +not so much depended upon the children, didst thou, dear heart?" + +Oh, the wonders of that Summer-room! The perfect chorus that rose as +the fresh young voices taught the birds to sing; the beauty of the +rainbows, the glory of the sunsets. It was all so wonderful that Doris +scarcely knew how to show her appreciation of it all. + +The Autumn-room was scarcely less bewildering, and the Winter-room was +so dazzling that Doris shut up her eyes for very wonder. + +In the Autumn-room all the little musicians set about transposing the +melody of the bird-songs from the major to the minor key, and they +taught the Piper to bring his fifing into harmony with their voices. +The small artists began changing the sky-coloring, and brought about +such wonderful effects that it was marvellous to see, and Doris could +scarcely realize at all that such wonders could be. + +After they had shown her the Winter-room and had seen her amazement at +the glory of the snow-crystals and the mysterious way in which the +rainbow colors were hidden in the ice, the Piper nodded his head, and +they all turned back and began to retrace their steps. + +"I suppose thou didst wonder where we had been when thou didst join us, +little friend," said the Piper. "I will tell thee. In the spring we +all set out on our travels; for my children must see and learn, besides +showing and teaching others. So in the spring we leave this place and +go into the world. Then I go wandering about with my fife north and +south, east and west, and the people think me the wind. But my dear +children could not bear such fatigue; so they take up their abode in +the trees, and remain there guiding the seasons and seeing that all is +well; whispering to me as I pass and to one another, and singing softly +to the stars and the clouds, and then every one mistakes and thinks +them simply rustling leaves. Then, when I have finished my journeying, +I give them a sign, and they dress themselves in gala-costume,--for joy +at the thought of coming home,--and when every one is gay in red, +purple, and yellow, they all slip down from the trees and away we go. +People have great theories about the changing of the foliage, but it is +a simple matter; as I tell you, it is only that my children are getting +ready to go home. + +"During the winter we leave the world to sleep, for it grows very weary +and needs rest. My children arrange its snow-coverlets for it, and +then it slumbers, and the moon and stars keep watch. So now thou +knowest all, little maid, and thou canst be one of us, and make the +world bright and glorious if thou wilt. It only needs a beautiful +soul, dear Doris; then one remains ever young, and can work many +wonders." + +"Oh, I will, I will!" cried Doris, instantly. + +"But," said the Piper, "it takes such long experience. Thou seest my +children had long years of it; and until thou canst make life bright +within, thou couldst not venture without. But if thou wilt try, and be +content to work in patience,--there are many children who are doing +this--" + +"Oh, I will, I will!" said Doris, again. + +Then the children laughed more happily than ever, and the Piper raised +his fife to his lips and blew a loud, glad note. + +What was this? The children had disappeared, the Piper was gone, and +Doris sat by the window, and her book had dropped to the floor. She +rubbed her eyes. + +"It was a dream," she said. "It is the Piper's wonderful way; he has +left me here to work and wait, so that I may make the world beautiful +at last." And she smiled and clapped her hands as the wind swept round +the corner. + + + + +MARJORIE'S MIRACLE. + +"Shall we have to wait until all these folks have been taken?" asked +Marjorie, looking from the crowd of people who thronged the fashionable +photograph-gallery to her mother, who was threading her way slowly +through the press to the cashier's desk. + +"Yes, dear, I 'm afraid so. But we must be patient and not fret, else +we shall not get a pleasant picture; and that would never do." + +While she paid the clerk for the photographs and made her arrangements +with him as to the desired size and style, Marjorie busied herself with +looking around and scanning the different faces she saw. + +"There!" she thought; "what for, do you s'pose, have I got to wait for +that baby to have its picture taken? Nothing but an ugly mite of a +thing, anyway! I should n't guess it was more than a day old, from the +way it wiggles its eyes about. I wonder if its mother thinks it's a +nice baby? Anyhow, I should think I might have my picture taken first. +And that hump-backed boy! Guess I have a right to go in before him! +He 's not pretty one bit. What a lovely frock that young lady has +on,--all fluffy and white, with lace and things! She keeps looking in +the glass all the time, so I guess she knows she 's pretty. When I am +a young lady I 'll be prettier than she is, though, for my hair is +goldener than hers, and my eyes are brown, and hers are nothing, but +plain blue. I heard a gentleman say the other day I had 'a rare style +of beauty,' he did n't know I heard (he was talking to Mamma, and he +thought I had gone away, but I had n't). I 'm glad I have 'a rare +style of beauty,' and I 'm glad my father 's rich, so I can have lovely +clothes and-- Seems to me any one ought to see that I 'm prettier than +that old lady over there; she 's all bent over and wrinkled, and when +she talks her voice is all kind of trembly, and her eyes are as dim-- +But she 'll go in before me just the same, and I 'll get tireder and +tireder, until I-- Mamma, won't you come over to that sofa, and put +your arm around me so I can rest? I 'm as sleepy as I can be; and by +the time all these folks get done being _taken_, I 'll be dead, I +s'pose. _Do_ come!" + +Her mother permitted herself to be led to the opposite side of the +room, where a large lounge stood, and seating herself upon it, took her +little daughter within the circle of her arm; whereupon Marjorie +commenced complaining of the injustice of these "homely" people being +given the advantage over her pretty self. + +"Oh, Marjorie, Marjorie!" whispered her mother, "what a very foolish +little girl you are! I think it would take a miracle to make you see +aright. Don't you know that that dear baby is very, very sick, and +that probably its sad little mother has brought it here to have its +picture taken, so that if it should be called away from her, she might +have something to gaze at that looked like her precious little one? +And that poor crippled boy! He has a lovely face, with its large, +patient eyes and sensitive mouth. How much better he is to look at +than that young woman you admire so much, whose beauty does not come +from her soul at all, and will disappear as soon as her rosy cheeks +fade and her hair grows gray! Now, that sweet old lady over there is +just a picture of goodness; and her dear old eyes have a look of love +in them that is more beautiful than any shimmer or shine you could show +me in those of your friend Miss Peacock." + +"Why do you call her 'Miss Peacock'? You don't know her, do you?" +queried Marjorie. + +"No, I don't know her in one sense, but in another I do. She is vain +and proud, and the reason I called her Miss Peacock was because of the +way in which she struts back and forth before that pier-glass,--just +like the silly bird itself. But I should not have called her names. +It was not a kind thing to do, even though she _is_ so foolish; and I +beg her pardon and yours, little daughter." + +Marjorie did not ask why her mother apologized to her. She had a dim +sort of an idea that it was because she had set her an example that she +would be sorry to have her follow. Instead, she inquired suddenly,-- + +"How do they take pictures, Mamma? I mean, what does the man do, when +he goes behind that queer machine thing and sticks his head under the +cloth, and then after a while claps in something that looks like my +tracing-slate and then pops it out again? What makes the picture?" + +"The sun makes the picture. It is so strong and clear that though it +is such a long distance away it shines down upon the object that is to +be photographed and reflects its image through a lens in the camera +upon a plate which is _sensitized_ (that is, coated with a sort of +gelatine that is so sensitive that it holds the impression cast upon it +until by the aid of certain acids and processes it can be made +permanent, that is, lasting). I am afraid I have not succeeded in +explaining so you understand very clearly; have I, Sweetheart?" + +Marjorie nodded her head. "Ye-es," she replied listlessly. "I guess I +know now. You said--the sun--did--it; the sun took our pictures. It's +very strange--to think--the sun--does--it." + + +"Come, Marjorie! Want to go travelling?" asked a voice. + +"No, thank you; not just now," replied Marjorie, slowly. "I am going +to have my photograph taken in a little while,--just as soon as all +these stupid folks get theirs done. I should n't have time to go +anywhere hardly; and besides it 'd tire me, and I want to look all +fresh and neat, so the picture will be pretty." + +"But suppose we promised, honor bright--" + +"Begging your pardon," broke in another voice, "that's understood in +any case,--a foregone conclusion, you know. Our honor would _have_ to +be bright." + +"Suppose we promised faithfully," continued the first voice, pretending +not to notice the interruption, "to bring you back in time to go in +when your turn comes, would n't you rather take a journey with us and +see any number of wonderful things than just to sit here leaning +against your mother's arm and watching these people that you think so +'stupid'?" + +"Of course," assented Marjorie, at once. "It 's awful tiresome,--this; +it makes me feel just as sleepy as can be. But what 's the use of +talking? I can't leave here or I 'd lose my chance, and besides Mamma +never lets me go out with strangers." + +"We 're not strangers," asserted the voice, calmly; "we are as familiar +to you as your shadow,--in fact, more so, come to think of it. You +have always known us, and so has your mother. She 'd trust you to us, +never fear! Will you come?" + +Marjorie considered a moment, and then said: "Well, if you're perfectly +sure you 'll take care of me, and that you 'll bring me back in time, I +guess I will." + +No sooner had she spoken than she felt herself raised from her place +and borne away out of the crowded room in which she was,--out, out into +the world, as free as the air itself, and being carried along as though +she were a piece of light thistle-down on the back of a summer breeze. + +That she was travelling very fast, she could see by the way in which +she out-stripped the clouds hurrying noiselessly across the sky. One +thing she knew,--whatever progress she was making was due, not to +herself (for she was making absolutely no effort at all, seeming to be +merely reclining at ease), but was the result of some other exertion +than her own. She was not frightened in the least, but, as she grew +accustomed to the peculiar mode of locomotion, became more and more +curious to discover the source of it. + +She looked about her, but nothing was visible save the azure sky above +her and the green earth beneath. She seemed to be quite alone. The +sense of her solitude began to fill her with a deep awe, and she grew +strangely uneasy: as she thought of herself, a frail little girl, amid +the vastness of the big world. + +How weak and helpless she was,--scarcely more important than one of the +wild-flowers she had used to tread on when she was n't being hurried +through space by the means of--she knew not what. To be sure, she was +pretty; but then they had been pretty too, and she had stepped on them, +and they had died, and she had gone away and no one had ever known. + +"Oh, dear!" she thought, "it would be the easiest thing in the world +for me to be killed (even if I _am_ pretty), and no one would know it +at all. I wonder what is going to happen? I wish I had n't come." + +"Don't be afraid!" said the familiar voice, suddenly. "We promised to +take care of you. We are truth itself. Don't be afraid!" + +"But I _am_ afraid," insisted Marjorie, in a petulant way, "and I 'm +getting afraider every minute. I don't know where I 'm going, nor how +I 'm being taken there, and I don't like it one bit. Who are you, +anyway?" + +For a moment she received no reply; but then the voice said: "Hush! +don't speak so irreverently. You are talking to the emissaries of a +great sovereign,--his Majesty the Sun." + +"Is _he_ carrying me along?" inquired Marjorie presently, with deep +respect. + +"Oh, dear, no," responded the voice; "we are doing that. We are his +vassals,--you call us beams. He never condescends to leave his +place,--he could not; if he were to desert his throne for the smallest +fraction of a second, one could not imagine the amount of disaster that +would ensue. But we do his bidding, and hasten north and south and +east and west, just as he commands. It is a very magnificent thing to +be a king--" + +"Of course," interrupted Marjorie; "one can wear such elegant clothes, +that shine and sparkle like everything with gold and jewels, and have +lots of servants and--" + +"No, no," corrected the beam, warmly. "Where did you get such a wrong +idea of things? That is not at all where the splendor of being a king +exists. It does not lie in the mere fact of one 's being born to a +title and able to command. That would be very little if that were all. +It is not in the gold and jewels and precious stuffs that go to adorn a +king that his grandeur lies, but in the things which these things +represent. We give a king the rarest and the most costly, because it +is fitting that the king should have the best,--that he is worthy of +the best; that only the best will serve one who is so great and +glorious. They mean nothing in themselves; they only describe his +greatness. The things that one sees are not of importance; it is the +things that they are put there to represent. Do you understand? I +don't believe you do. I 'll try to make it more clear to you, like a +true sunbeam. Look at one of your earth-kings, for instance. He is +nothing but a man just like the rest of you; but what makes him great +is that he is supposed to have more truth, more wisdom, more justice +and power. If he has not these things, then he would better never have +been a king; for that only places him where every one can see how +unworthy he is,--makes his lacks only more conspicuous. Your word +_king_ comes from another word, _koenning_; which comes from still +another word, _canning_, that means _ableman_. If he is not really an +ableman, it were better he had never worn ermine. And there, too; +ermine is only a fur, you know. It is nothing in itself but fur; but +you have come to think of it as an emblem of royalty because kings use +it. So you see, Marjorie, a thing is not of any worth really except as +it represents something that is great and noble, something _true_." + +Marjorie was very silent for a little; she was trying to understand +what the sunbeam meant, and found it rather difficult. After a while +she gave it up and said,-- + +"Will you tell me how you are carrying me, and where we are going, and +all about it?" + +"Certainly," replied the beam, brightly. "You are in a sort of +hammock made out of threads of sunshine. We sunbeams can weave one in +less than no time, and it is no trouble at all to swing a little mortal +like you way out into the clearness and the light, so that a bit of it +can make its way into your dark little soul, and make you not quite so +blind as you were." + +"Why, I 'm not blind at all," said Marjorie, with a surprised pout. "I +can see as well as anything. Did you think I couldn't?" + +"I _know_ you can't," replied the beam, calmly. "That is, you can't +see any farther than the outside part of things, and that is almost +worse than seeing none of them at all. But here we are nearing the +court of the king. Now don't expect to see _him_, for that is +impossible. He is altogether too radiant for you; your eyes could not +bear so much glory. It would be just as if you took one of your own +little moles or bats (creatures that are used to the dark) and put them +in the full glare of a noonday sun. The sun would be there, but they +could not see it, because their eyes would be too weak and dim. Even +yourself,--have n't you often tried to look the sun full in the face? +Yes; and you have had to give it up and turn your face away because it +hurt your eyes. Well, his Majesty only lets the world have a glimpse +of his glory. But here we are at our journey's end." + +With these words Marjorie felt herself brought to a gentle halt, and +found herself in a place most wondrously clear and light and high, from +which she could look off,--far, far across and over and down to where +something that looked like a dim ball was whirling rapidly. + +"That is your earth," whispered the sunbeam in her ear,--"the earth +that you have just left." + +Marjorie was so astounded that for a time she was unable to say a word. +Then she managed to falter out: "But it always looked so big and +bright, and now it is nothing but a horrid dark speck--" + +"That is just it, Marjorie,--just what I said. When you look at the +world simply as a planet, it is small and dark enough, not nearly so +large as some of the others you see about you; but when you look at it +as a place on which God has put his people to be good and noble, to +work out a beautiful purpose, then-- But wait a moment." + +Marjorie felt a strange thrill pass through her; across her eyes swept +something that felt like a caressing hand, and when she looked again +everything was changed, and she seemed gazing at a wonderful sort of +panorama that shifted and changed every moment, showing more lovely +impressions each instant. + +"What is it?" she gasped, scarcely able to speak for delight and +breathless with amazement. + +"Only pictures of your world as it really is. Pictures taken by his +Highness the Sun, who does not stop at the mere outer form of things, +but reveals the true inwardness of them,--what they are actually. He +does not stop with the likeness of the surface of things; he makes +portraits of their hearts as well, and he always gets exact +likenesses,--he never fails." + +Marjorie felt a sudden fear steal over her at these words; she did not +precisely know why, but she had a dim sort of feeling that if the sun +took photographs of more than the outside of things (of the hearts as +well), some of the pictures he got might not be so pretty, perhaps. +But she said nothing, and watched the scroll as it unrolled before her +with a great thrill of wonderment. + +With her new vision the world was more beautiful than anything she had +ever imagined. She could see everything upon its surface, even to the +tiniest flower; but nothing was as it had seemed to her when she had +been one of its inhabitants herself. Each blade of grass, each tree +and rock and brook, was something more than a mere blade or tree or +rock or brook,--something so much more strange and beautiful that it +almost made her tremble with ecstasy to see. + +"Now you can see," said the voice; "before you were blind. Now you +understand what I meant when I said the objects one sees are of +themselves nothing; it is what they represent that is grand and +glorious and beautiful. A flower is lovely, but it is not half so +lovely as the thing it suggests--but I can't expect you to understand +_that_. Even when you were blind you used to love the ocean. Now that +you can see, do you know why? It is because it is an emblem of God's +love, deep and mighty and strong and beautiful beyond words. And so +with the mountains, and so with the smallest weed that grows. But we +must look at other things before you go back--" + +"Oh, dear!" faltered Marjorie, "when I go back shall I be blind again? +How does one see clear when one goes back?" + +"Through truth," answered the beam, briefly. + +But just then Marjorie found herself looking at some new sights. "What +are these?" she whispered tremblingly. + +"The _proofs_ of some pictures you will remember to have half seen," +replied the beam. + +And sure enough! with a start of amaze and wonder she saw before her +eyes the people who had sat in the crowded gallery with her before she +had left it to journey here with her sunbeam guide; but, oh! with such +a difference. + +The baby she had thought so ugly was in reality a white-winged angel, +mild-eyed and pitying; while the hump-backed boy represented a patience +so tender that it beautified everything upon which it shone. She +thought she recognized in one of the pictures a frock of filmy lace +that she remembered to have seen before; but the form it encased was +strange to her, so ill-shapen and unlovely it looked; while the face +was so repulsive that she shrank from it with horror. + +"Is that what I thought was the pretty girl?" she murmured tremulously. + +"Yes," replied the beam, simply. + +The next portrait was that of the silver-haired old lady whom Marjorie +had thought so crooked and bowed. She saw now why her shoulders were +bent. It was because of the mass of memories she carried,--memories +gathered through a long and useful life. Her silver hair made a halo +about her head. + +"The next is yours," breathed the voice at her side, softly. "Will you +look?" + +Marjorie gave a quick start, and her voice quivered sadly as she +cried,-- + +"Oh, blessed sunbeam, don't force me to see it! Let me go back and try +to be better before I see my likeness. I am afraid now. The outside +prettiness is n't anything, unless one's spirit is lovely too; and I--I +could not look, for I know--I know how hateful mine would be. I have +learned about it now, and it's like a book; if the story the book tells +is not beautiful, the pictures won't be good to see. I have learned +about it now, and I know better than I did. May I--oh, may I try +again?" + +She waited in an agony of suspense for the answer; and when it came, +and the voice said gently, "It is your turn next," she cried aloud,-- + +"Not yet, oh, not yet! Let me wait. Let me try again." + + +And there she was, with her cheeks all flushed and tear-stained, her +hair in loose, damp curls about her temples, and her frock all rumpled +and crushed in her mother's arms; and her mother was saying,-- + +"Bad dreams, sweetheart? You have had a fine, long nap; but it is your +turn next, and I have had to wake you. Come, dear! Now we must see if +we cannot get a good likeness of you,--just as you really are." + + + + +WHAT HAPPENED TO LIONEL. + +It is not to be supposed that such things happen every day. If they +were to happen every day, one would get so familiar with them that they +would not seem at all extraordinary; and if there were no extraordinary +things in the world, how very dull one would be, to be sure! As it +is-- But to go back. + +The beggar had stood before the area-gate for a long time, and no one +had paid the slightest attention to him. He was an old man with long +gray hair, and a faded, ragged coat, whose tatters fluttered madly to +and fro every time the wind blew. He was very tall and gaunt, and his +back was bent. On his head was a big slouched hat, whose brim fell +forward over his eyes and almost hid them entirely in its shadow. He +carried a basket upon one arm, and a cane with a crook for a handle +hung upon the other. He seemed very patient, for he was waiting, +unmurmuringly, for some one to come in answer to the ring he had given +the area-bell some fifteen minutes before. No one came, and he +appeared to be considering whether to ring again or go away, when +Lionel skipped nimbly from his chair by the drawing-room window, +slipped noiselessly down the basement stairs, and opened the area-door +just in time to prevent the beggar from taking his departure. + +"What do you want, sir?" inquired Lionel, politely, through the tall +iron gate. + +The beggar turned around at the sound of the child's voice, and replied: + +"I have come to beg--" + +"Oh, yes, I know," cried Lionel, hurriedly (he was afraid some one +might come, and then he would be snatched unceremoniously away from the +open door, and the beggar sent smartly about his business by one of the +pert-tongued maids); "but is it for cold victuals or money?" + +The beggar looked down at the little lad, and a smile, half of pity, +half of amusement, lit up his grave features for a moment. "I have +come to beg," he said slowly, "that you will receive from me, not that +you will give to me." + +Lionel's eyes widened with amazement. "That I will receive from you?" +he repeated slowly. "Then you are n't a beggar at all?" + +"Most assuredly I am," responded the old man, promptly. "Do I not beg +of you? What is a beggar? 'One who begs or entreats earnestly or with +humility; a petitioner.' That is how your dictionary has it. It does +n't say for what he begs or entreats. Where I come from things are so +different,--there it is a mark of distinction, I can assure you, to be +a beggar. One must have lived such a long life of poverty and +self-sacrifice before one is permitted to beg--to beg others to receive +one's benefits. Ah, yes, there it is so different!" + +"Yes, it must be," assented Lionel. "Here beggars are just persons who +go about and ask for cold bits or pennies; and we don't think much of +them at all." + +"That is because they are not the right kind of almsfolk, nor you the +right kind of almoners," responded the beggar; and then he repeated: +"Ah, yes, there it is so different!" + +"Where?" inquired Lionel. "Won't you tell me about it?" + +"Dear child," replied the beggar, gently, "it can't be described. It +must be seen to be appreciated. If you once entered into that estate, +you would never wish to return to this." + +"Is it as nice as all that?" questioned Lionel, eagerly. "Guess I 'll +go, then. Will you take me ?" he asked. + +The beggar smiled down at him kindly. "I can't take you, dear boy," he +said. "I have to travel on. But I can set you on the road, and you +will reach there in safety if you follow my directions." + +Lionel waited breathlessly for the beggar to continue; but the man +almost seemed to have forgotten his existence, for he was gazing +dreamily over his head into the darkness of the hallway, apparently +seeing nothing but what was in his own mind's eye. + +"Well?" asked Lionel, a little impatiently. "You were going to give me +the directions, you know." + +"Oh, yes!" returned the beggar, with a slight start. "Well, the +directions are: _Always turn to the right_!" + +Lionel considered a moment, and then he said: "But if I always turn to +the right I should n't get anywhere at all. I 'd be only going round +and round." + +"No, no!" replied the beggar, hastily; "you must always go _square_, +you know. And you 'll find you 'll get along beautifully if you always +keep to the right." + +"But s'pose," suggested Lionel, "I come to a place where the road is to +the left,--some of the roads might be not to the right,--some might go +quite the other way." + +"Yes," assented the beggar, wistfully. "They _all_ go the other +way,--that is, they _seem_ to go the other way. But when they seem to +go to the wrong and you don't see any that go to the right, just keep +as near to the right as you can, and by and by you 'll see one and it +will be lovely. But if you turn down to the wrong, you run a chance of +losing your way entirely. It is always so much harder to go back." + +"But are those all the directions you are going to give me?" inquired +Lionel, with a doubtful glance. + +"They are sufficient," replied the beggar. "You 'll find them +sufficient;" and before Lionel could say another word the beggar had +vanished from before his very eyes. He had not slipped away, nor slunk +away, nor walked away, nor sped away,--he had simply vanished; and +Lionel was left alone behind the grated door of the area-way gazing out +upon a vacant space of pavement where, an instant before, the beggar +had stood. The little boy rubbed his eyes and looked again. No, the +beggar was gone, in very truth, and had left not so much as a rag +behind him. But, look! what was that? Something lay upon the stone +step just outside the gate, and it gleamed brightly from out its dusky +corner. Lionel reached up and unlatched the heavy fastening. The +great gate swung slowly in, and Lionel stepped briskly out. He bent +down and grasped the shining object; it proved to be a little rule, and +it was made of solid gold. He clasped it to his bosom. + +"How beautiful!" he murmured. "Now I can measure things and carve them +with my jack-knife, and they 'll be just exactly right. Before they +have n't been quite straight, and when I 'd try to put the parts +together they wouldn't fit; but now--" + +And then suddenly the thought flashed across his mind: "Perhaps it +belongs to the beggar and he might want it;" and without a moment's +thought to his bare head, he passed quickly through the gateway and out +into the street. + +"It's such a beautiful rule," he thought, as he flew along. "I never +saw such a darling. If it were mine, how I should hate to lose it! I +must certainly find him and give it back to him; for I know he must +feel just as I should if it were mine." + +It never entered into his head to keep the thing; his one idea seemed +to be to find the beggar and return to him his property. But before +very long his breath began to come in gasps, and he found himself +panting painfully and unable to run any farther. He paused and leaned +against the huge newel-post at the foot of some one's outer steps. His +cheeks were aglow, his eyes flashing, his thick curls rough and +tumbled, and his bang in fine disorder. The deep embroidered cuffs and +collar upon his blouse were crushed and rumpled; his little Zouave +jacket was wind-blown and dusty, and his pumps splashed with mud from +the gutter-puddles through which he had run. At home they would have +said he "looked like distress;" but here, leaning wearily against the +post, he was a most picturesque little figure. + +Suddenly he felt a light touch upon his head, and then his bang was +brushed back from his temples as though by the stroke of some kindly +hand. He looked up, and there beside him stood the oddest-looking +figure he had ever seen. + +The stranger was clad from head to foot in a suit of silver gray. Upon +his head he wore a peaked cap, upon his feet were the longest and most +pointed of buskins; his doublet and hose were silver gray, and over his +shoulders hung a mantle about which was a jagged border made after the +most fantastic design, which shone and glittered like ice in sunlight. +About his hips was a narrow girdle from which hung a sheathed dagger +whose hilt was richly studded with clear, white crystals that looked to +Lionel like the purest of diamonds. + +Lionel felt that when he spoke it would probably be after some +old-century fashion which he could scarcely understand; but there he +was mistaken, for when the stranger addressed him, it was in the most +modern manner and with great kindliness. + +"Well, my son," he said cheerily, "tired out? I saw you run. You have +a fine pair of heels. They have good speed in them." + +"I wanted to catch up with someone,--an old beggar-man who lost +something in our area-way. I wanted to return it to him," explained +Lionel, breathlessly. + +The stranger gazed down at him more kindly than ever. "So? But one +can't expect to catch up with folks when one gets _winded_ and has to +stop every now and then for breath. Better try my mode." + +"Please, sir, what is your mode?" inquired Lionel, with his politest +manner. + +"To begin with," explained his companion, "I have to accomplish the +most astonishing feats in the manner of speed. Literally I have to +travel so fast that I am in two places at once. You will the better +believe me when I tell you who I am,--Jack Frost, at your service, sir. +Now, by what means do you think I manage it ?" + +"I 'm sure I don't know. I should like immensely to find out," Lionel +returned. + +"How do you get to places yourself?" inquired Jack Frost. "Do you +always run?" + +"Oh, no, indeed. I almost always ride on my bicycle. Then I can _go_ +like anything, 'specially down _coasts_. Upgrades are kind of hard +sometimes, but not so very. Oh, I can go quick enough when I have my +bicycle." + +"Now then," broke in Jack Frost, "you use a bicycle,--that is, a +machine having two wheels. Now _I_ use a something having but one +wheel; consequently it goes twice as fast,--oh! much more than twice as +fast." + +"One wheel?" repeated Lionel, thoughtfully; "seems to me I never +heard of that kind of an one." + +"Suppose you guess," proposed Jack Frost. "I 'll put it in the form of +a conundrum: If a thing having two wheels is called a _bi_cycle, what +would a thing having but one be called?" + +"Oh, that's an old one. I 've heard that before, and the answer is, a +wheelbarrow, you know." + +Jack Frost shook his head, "I see I shall have to tell you," he said. +"If a thing having two wheels is called a _bi_cycle, a thing having but +one would naturally be an _i_cicle. Of course you might have known I +should use an icicle." + +"But oh, Mr. Frost," objected Lionel, "I never saw an icicle with a +wheel in my life, and I never saw one go either." + +"That's because you have n't seen me on one; and even if you had seen +me on one, you wouldn't have known it,--we travel so fast. Did you +ever notice that when things are going at the very rapidest rate +possible, they seem to be standing perfectly still? That's the way +with icicles. They have tremendous speed in them. They go so fast you +can't realize it, and then when they are slowing up they don't do it +with a clumsy jerk as bicycles do; they just gradually melt out of +sight." + +"Yes, I 've seen them do that. I 've seen them go that way," admitted +Lionel. "But will you take me to the beggar? I'm 'fraid I sha'n't be +able to give him his rule if I don't hurry up." + +"But do you know in what direction he went?" asked Jack Frost. "If one +wants to catch up with any one, one needs to have _some_ idea of the +direction he took. It's quite a _desideratum_,--when you get home, +look that up." + +Then Lionel felt deeply mortified. "What a silly I was!" he said. +"Perhaps I was going just the opposite way from the one he went. Oh, +dear! how can I ever give him back his rule? It is such a beauty. If +it had been mine, I 'd just hate to lose it." + +"Let us examine it," suggested Jack Frost, "and see if there is any +sign upon it that would help to discover its owner;" and without a +moment's doubt or hesitation Lionel drew it from his pocket and held it +up for Jack Frost to see. + +Then for a little space they both gazed at it carefully; Jack Frost +bending down his tall head to get a nearer view of it, and Lionel +standing upon the tips of his toes to accomplish the same purpose. + +"Oh, see, see!" cried the boy, joyously. "It says, 'LIONEL,--HIS RULE +FOR LIFE.' That means I can keep it for always, does n't it? Forever +'n' ever." + +"It means," explained Jack Frosty gravely, "that you can keep it,--yes. +But it means you are to measure your life with it. You are always to +use it in everything you do. Then you 'll be _true_, and whatever you +do will be _straight_ and _square_." + +"Why, that's what he said himself. He said I must always 'go square.' +That was when he was giving me directions how to reach the beautiful +place he came from. He called it an estate; and he said if I ever got +there I 'd never want to come away. As long as I 'm on the way I guess +I 'll try to find that place. Will you take me?" + +"I 'm afraid," replied Jack Frost, with a very kindly seriousness,--"I +'m afraid one must depend on one's self in order to reach that place. +But I 'll tell you what I will do; I 'll stay with you for a bit, and, +perhaps, having company will hearten you, so if you happen to come +across any specially bad places just at first, you won't be +discouraged. And I want to tell you that if you are ever in doubt as +to the way and no one is there to give you advice, just set yourself to +work and use your rule and you 'll come out right. Now don't forget!" +and with these words he vanished. + +"Why, I thought he was going to stay with me," murmured Lionel, +despondently. "He was so jolly, and I liked him so much. He said he +wouldn't leave me just yet--" + +"Nor have I," rejoined the hearty voice close by his ear. "But I can't +neglect my business, you know; and at this moment I 'm here and 'way +off in Alaska too. Stiff work, is n't it?" + +But in spite of this Lionel heard him whistling cheerily beside him. + +The boy trudged on, and every once in a while he and his invisible +comrade would converse together in the most friendly manner possible, +and Lionel did indeed feel encouraged by the knowledge of Jack Frost's +companionship. But by and by, after quite a long time, Lionel noticed +that when he addressed his unseen fellow-traveller the voice that came +to him in reply seemed rather far away and distant, and later became +lost to him altogether. + +Then he knew that Jack Frost had left him for a season, and he felt +quite lonely and deserted and was about to drop a tear or two of +regret, when all at once, at his very feet, opened a new way which he +had not noticed before. It looked bright and inviting, and wound along +in the most picturesque fashion, instead of lying straight and level +before him, as did the road from which it branched. + +He was just about to turn down this fascinating side-path, and was in +the very act of complaining about his loneliness and bemoaning it +aloud, when he happened to notice that the sky looked a little +overcast; the air had grown heavy and still, and a strange, sad hush +brooded over everything; while the bare branches upon the trees +appeared to droop, and the one or two birds that had perched upon them +uttered low, plaintive little sounds that were disheartening to hear. + +Lionel was struck with so great an awe that he entirely forgot himself +and his sorrow; and in that one moment the skies seemed to brighten, +the air to lighten, and the trees and birds had grown songful again. + +"What does it mean?" he asked himself anxiously; and then, all at once, +he bethought himself of Jack Frost's advice in case he ever was in +doubt as to the course he was to take, and in a twinkling had whipped +out his rule and was down on his knees applying it in good earnest. +Then how glad he was that he had not turned into the inviting by-path, +for his little rule showed how crooked and wrong it was,--whole yards +and yards away from the right; and he knew he must have met with some +mishap, or at the very least have wasted any amount of precious time +trying to retrace his steps and regain the place upon which he now +stood. + +He was so relieved to think he had been saved from making such a sad +mistake that he began to whistle merrily, and in an instant the whole +world about him was bright of hue and joyous again, and looking, he +saw, to his amazement, that the bare branches were abud. + +"It's spring," he cried happily, and leaped along his way toward the +right. In a flash the tempting little by-path had curled up like a +scroll and disappeared from view; and then Lionel knew that it had not +been real at all, but only imaginary, and he was more grateful than +ever that he had not followed its lead. + +"Now, you good little rule," said he, addressing the shining object in +his hand, "I 'll put you in my breast-pocket and keep you safe and warm +next to my heart. Then you 'll be ready if I want you again." And he +was just about to thrust it in his bosom, when his eyes were caught by +something unusual upon its surface, and on examining it very closely he +saw, in exquisitely chased characters, the words,-- + + Nor sigh nor weep o'er thine own ills; + Such plaining earth with mourning fills. + Forget thyself, and thou shalt see + Thyself remembered blessedly. + +For some time after he had read the lines he was plunged in thought. +They seemed to teach him a lesson that it took him some little time to +learn. + +"I don't know why it should make the world sad if one complains," he +mused. "But I s'pose it does. I s'pose one has n't any right to make +things unpleasant for other people by crying about things. One ought +to be brave and not bother folks with one's troubles. Well, I 'll try +not to do so any more, because if it's going to make things so +unpleasant it can't be right." + +And this last word seemed to link in his mind his escape from the +complaint of his loneliness and the by-path down which he did not turn; +and he was so long trying to unravel the mystery of the connection that +before he knew it he had almost stumbled into quite a bog, and there, +in front of him, sat a wee child,--just where two roads met,--and he +had well-nigh run over her in his carelessness. + +"Oh, bother!" said he,--for he was irritated at the thought of having +only so narrowly escaped doing himself serious damage,--"what do you +get in a fellow's way for? You--" But the poor little mite gazed up +at him so sadly, and wept so piteously at his hasty words that he +paused suddenly and did not go on. + +He looked down the two paths. The one was wide and curving, the other +narrow and straight; the one was bordered with rich foliage, the other +was bare and sandy. He might have run lightly along the one, he would +have to toil wearisomely along the other. What wonder that his foot +was turning in the direction of the first! But a queer pricking in his +bosom and the child's cry stopped him. + +He slowly drew forth his rule and began to measure, while the little +one sobbed,-- + +"I 'm so told I tan't walt any more. My foots are all tired out, and I +want sumpin to eat;" and there he found himself just on the verge of +making a fearful blunder. He got up from his knees and turning to the +tiny maid, said kindly,-- + +"There, there! don't cry, dear! We 'll fix you all right;" and he +stripped off his jacket and wrapped it about her, taking her in his +arms, and trudging on with his burden along the more difficult way. +But it was the right one, and he knew it; and so his heart was light, +and he did not have time to think of his own weariness; for all the +time he was trying to comfort his forlorn little companion. And so +well he succeeded that in no time at all she was asleep on his +shoulder. Then he sat down by the roadside, and holding her still in +his arms, began to think. + +"There I was a little while ago complaining--no, not quite complaining, +but _almost_--because I hadn't anybody to keep me company. Now I 've +got somebody with a vengeance. She's awful heavy. But, oh, dear! what +a narrow escape I had! I might have run into that bog, and that would +have been a 'pretty how d 'ye do,' as Sarah says. I was so busy +thinking I forgot everything, and ran almost over little Sissy; and +that shows, I s'pose, how without meaning it one can hurt somebody if +one does n't look out." + +And then, very carefully, so as not to wake his sleeping charge, he +slipped his hand into his pocket and drew out his rule again. + +"What a good friend you are!" he said to it. "I really think you 're +better than any sword or poniard a body could have. You 've saved me +from danger twice now, and--" But here he stared at it in dumb +surprise, for even as he looked he saw appear upon its polished surface +the words,-- + + Deep is the bog in which they sink + Who ne'er on others' sorrow think; + Deeper the joy in which they rest + Who 've served the weary and distressed. + +And, sure enough, he felt so happy he could have sung aloud in spite of +his weariness and fatigue. + +But I could not begin to tell you of all his experiences, nor how +unfailingly his little rule helped him to meet them successfully. + +He thought a great deal about it and its magical power; but once or +twice he did get to wondering why it should point to the straight path +when the winding one was so much the prettier to see. + +"Are the right ways always the ones we should n't take if we had our +own way?" he thought. "Why is it that the right one always seems not +so pretty as the other? Seems to me some one told me once that the +curved lines were 'the lines of beauty.'" But before he had time +fairly to consider the subject, his rule, which he happened to be +holding in his hand, showed him this little verse,-- + + "Straight is the line of duty, + Curved is the line of beauty; + Follow th' one and thou shalt see + The other ever following thee." + +And this was always the way. Whenever Lionel was puzzled about +anything, his rule always made it clear to him. And by and by, after +he had met with all sorts of adventures, he began to wonder whether he +was ever going to see the beggar again or reach his wonderful estate. + +It was on a very beautiful day that he wondered this, and he was more +than a little happy because he had just been applying his rule to +unusually good effect, when, lo! there beside him stood the subject of +his thoughts. But oh! how changed he was! + +Every rag upon him glowed and shimmered with a wondrous lustre, and the +staff he carried blazed with light, while the basket upon his arm +overflowed with the most beautiful blessings. + +"I thought," said the new-comer, "that I might risk giving you this +encouragement. It will not make you content to go no farther on _now_. +It will make you long to strive for greater good ahead. You will not +reach it until you have travelled a lifetime; but you will not despair, +for you are being so blessed. I have been permitted to give you a +great gift. It is for that I was begging you that day. See, what a +privilege it is to be able to beg so--" + +"Oh, yes," cried Lionel; "you were going to beg me to accept the little +rule, were n't you? And you left it for me when you disappeared, and +it is a beauty, and it is gold, and it does strange, wonderful things +for me, and--and--" In his enthusiasm he drew it from his breast and +held it up, when, lo! it curved about his hand until it formed a +perfect, beautiful circle. From its shining rim shot up points of +radiance, and it was no more a simple little rule, but a golden crown +fit for a king to wear. + +Lionel gazed at it in mute wonderment, and the beggar put out his hand +and touched it lovingly. + +"When your journey is done you shall wear it, lad," he said; and then +Lionel closed his eyes for very ecstasy, and then-- + +But when extraordinary things are just on the point of getting _too_ +extraordinary, they are sure to meet with some sort of an interruption, +and after that they are quite ordinary and every-day again. So when +Lionel opened his eyes there he was curled up in the chair by the +drawing-room window, and it had grown very dark and must have been +late, for one of the maids was tripping softly about the room, lighting +the lamps and singing as she did it. + + + + +MARIE AND THE MEADOW-BROOK. + +A little maid sat sadly weeping while the sunbeams played merrily at +hide-and-seek with the shadows that the great oak branches cast on the +ground; while the warm summer wind sang softly to itself as it passed, +and the blue sky had not even a white cloud with which to hide the sad +sight from its eyes. + +"Why do you weep?" asked the oak-tree; but Marie did not hear it, and +her tears tell faster than ever. + +"Why are you so sad?" questioned the sunbeams; and they came to her +gently and tried to peep into her eyes. + +But she only got up and sat farther away in the shadow, and they could +do nothing to comfort her. So they danced awhile on the door-step; and +then the sun called them away, for it was growing late. + +And still the little maid sat weeping; and if she had not fallen asleep +from very weariness, who knows what the sad consequences might not have +been? + +"How warm it is!" murmured the dandelions in the meadow. "Our heads +are quite heavy, and our feet are hot. If it was not our duty to stand +up, we would like nothing better than to sink down in the shade and go +to sleep; but we must attend to our task and keep awake." + +"What can you have, you wee things, to keep you busy?" asked the tall +milkweed that grew near the fence-rails; and the mullein-stalk beside +it echoed,-- + +"What, indeed?" + +"Now, one can understand one so tall as I having to stand upright and +do my duty; but you,--why, you are no taller than one of my green pods +that I am filling with floss--" + +"And not half so tall as one of my leaves that I must line with +velvet," interrupted the mullein-stalk again. + +The dandelions looked grieved for a moment, but answered brightly: +"Why, don't you know? It must be because you live so far away--there +by the fence--that you don't know we are here to pin the grass down +until it grows old enough to know it must not wander off like the +crickets, or to blow away like the floss in your own pods. Young grass +is very foolish,--I think I heard the farmer call it green the other +day, but we don't like the expression ourselves,--and it would be apt +to do flighty things if we did n't pin it down where it belongs. When +we have taught it its lesson, we can go to sleep. We always stay until +the last minute, and then we slip on our white nightcaps,--so fluffy +and light and soft they are,--and lo! some day we are gone, no one +knows where but the wind; and he carries us off in his arms, for we are +too tired to walk; and then we rest until the next year, when we are +bright and early at our task again." + +Then the milkweed and the mullein-stalk bowed very gravely and +respectfully to the little dandelions, and said,-- + +"Yes, we see. Even such wee things as you have your duties, and we are +sorry you are so weary." + +So the milkweed whispered to the breeze that the dandelions were too +warm, and begged it to help them; but the breeze murmured very gently,-- + +"I don't know what is the matter with me, dear milkweed, but I am so +faint, so faint, I think I shall die." + +And sure enough, the next day the little breeze had died, and then they +knew how they missed him, even though he had been so weak for the last +few days; for the sun glared down fiercely, and the meadow thought it +was angry, and was so frightened it grew feverish and parched with very +dread. + +"We wish our parasols were larger," sighed the toadstools; "but they +are so small that, try as we may, we cannot get them to cast a large +shadow, and now the breeze has died we have no messenger. If only one +knew how to get word to the clouds!" + +But the clouds had done such steady duty through the spring that they +thought they were entitled to a holiday, and had gone to the +mountain-tops, where they were resting calmly, feeling very grand among +such an assembly of crowned heads. + +Meanwhile the meadow grew browner and browner, and its pretty dress was +being scorched so that by and by no one would have recognized it for +the gay thing it had been a week ago. And still the sun glared angrily +down, and the little breeze was dead. + +Then the grasses laid down their tiny spears, and the dandelions bent +their heads, and the locusts and the crickets and the grasshoppers +called feebly,-- + +"Oh, little brook, cannot you get out of your bed and come this way?" + +"Our hearts are broken," cried the daisies. + +"We shall die," wailed the ragged-sailors. Then they all waited for +the brook to reply; but she was silent, and call as they would they +could get no answer. + +"Hush!" whispered the springs. "Her bed is empty. Have n't you +noticed how little she sang lately? The weeds must have fallen asleep +and she has run away. You know they always hindered her." + +They did not tell that they were too weak to feed the brook; so it had +dried away. And still the sun glared down, and the little breeze was +dead, and the brook had disappeared; while there on the door-step sat +Marie weeping big tears,--for the little maid was always sad, and come +when you would, there was Marie with her dark eyes filled and brimming +over with the shining drops. + +The beeches beckoned her from the garden; she saw them do it. Their +long branches waved to her to come, like inviting arms; and still +weeping, she stole quietly away. + +"Come," whispered the gnarled apple-trees down in the orchard; and she +threaded her way sadly among the trunks, while her tears fell splash, +splash, on her white pinafore. + +"Here!" gasped the meadow-grass; and she followed on, sobbing softly to +herself, as she sat down where, days ago, the brook had merrily sung. + +"Why do you grieve?" asked the pebbles; and she heard them and +answered,-- + +"Because I am so sad. Things are never as I want them, and so I cry. +I am made to obey, and then, when the stars come out and I wish to stay +up, I am sent to bed; and the next morning, when I am so sleepy I can +hardly open my eyes, I am made to get up. Oh, this is a very sad +world!" And she wept afresh. + +Then the flowers and the grasses and the pebbles, seeing her tears, all +said at once: "Would you like to stay here with us? Then you could +stay awake all night and gaze at the stars, and in the morning you need +not get up. You may lie in the brook's empty bed, and you need never +obey your parents any more." + +Marie was silent a moment, and then a hundred small voices said, "Do, +oh, do!" And her tears fell faster and more fast, and larger and +larger, for she felt more abused than ever now the meadow had shown her +sympathy, as she thought. She kept dropping tears so quickly that by +and by even her sobbing could scarcely be heard for the splash, splash, +of the many drops that were falling on the white pebbles in the brook's +bed. + +How they fell! The brown eyes grew dim, and Marie could not see. She +felt tiny hands pulling her down--down; and in a moment she had ceased +to be a little girl and had become a brook, while her weeping was the +murmur of little waves as they plashed against the stones. + +Yes, it was true! + +She need never go to sleep when the stars came out; she need never get +out of her bed in the morning,--how could she when the strong weeds +hindered her,--and how could a brook obey when people spoke? + +And meanwhile the meadow grew gay again, for the brook cooled its +fever; and by and by the dandelions tied on their large, fluffy +nightcaps and disappeared, and the sun ceased to glare--for Marie was +gone from the door-step with her weeping, and he need not look down on +the ungrateful little maid who ought to have been so happy. The clouds +came back; and when they heard how the meadow had suffered they wept +for sympathy, and the underground springs grew strong, until one day +there was a great commotion in the meadow. + +A little bird had told the whole story of Marie's woe to the breeze, +and he rose and sighed aloud; the trees tossed their arms about, +because it was so wicked in a little girl to be ungrateful. The +crickets said, "Tut, tut!" in a very snappy way; and at last the great +wind rose, and whipped the poor brook until it grew quite white with +foam and fear. + +Then Marie knew how naughty she had been, and she made no complaint at +her punishment. In fact, she bore it so meekly that after the wind had +quieted down and the stormy flurry was over, she began to sing her +quiet little song again, although she was very tired of it by this +time, and was so meek and patient that all the meadow whispered: + +"Good little thing now,--good little thing!" and then they told her how +everything in the world, no matter how small it is, has a duty to +perform, and should do its task cheerfully and gladly, and not weep and +complain when it thinks matters are not going in the right way, but try +to keep on with its task and relief will come. + +Marie listened like an obedient little brook as she was, and was just +going to float another merry little bubble to the little reeds below +when she heard a voice say, "Give me my bed; I want it," and lo! there +was the real brook come back. She pushed Marie aside and hurt her, +though she seemed so gentle. + +Marie tried to rise, but it was difficult; her limbs were stiff lying +all this time in the meadow, her eyes were weary gazing at the sky, and +her voice hoarse with the song she had been forced to sing. + +She tried again, and this time she succeeded; and behold! there she was +on the door-step, and the sun was going down. + + + + +NINA'S CHRISTMAS GIFTS. + +Hark! What was that? + +Nina stood still in the wintry blast and listened. The wind rushed +upon her wildly, and dragged her tattered skirt this way and that, and +fleered at her, and whistled at her; and when she paid not the +slightest attention to his cruel treatment of her, fled tumultuously +down the street. + +It was a wretched, shivering little figure that he left behind him,--a +small girl, with coal-black hair escaping from the folds of a bright +kerchief that was tied about it; with immense dark eyes, that seemed to +light up her poor, pinched face and make it beautiful; with tattered +dress and torn shoes, and with something clutched tightly beneath her +arm,--something that she tried unsuccessfully to shield from the +weather beneath her wretched rag of a shawl, that was so insufficient +to shield even her. She was listening intently to the sounds of an +organ that came pealing forth into the dusk from within the enormous +church before whose doors she was standing. + +Louder, fuller swelled the majestic cords, and then--Nina strained her +ears to listen--and then the sweetest, tenderest voice imaginable +seemed to be singing to her of all the most beautiful things of which +she had ever dreamed. It drew her toward it by the influence of its +plaintiveness; and first one step and then another she took in its +direction until she was within the huge doors, and found herself +standing upon a white marble floor, with wonderful paintings on the +lofty ceiling above her head, and a sense of delicious warmth all about +her. But, alas! where was the singer? The thrilling notes were still +falling upon her ear with caressing sweetness; but they seemed to come +from beyond,--from far beyond. + +Before her she saw more doors. Perhaps if she slipped through these +she might come in sight of the owner of the voice. + +"It is the Santa Maria," murmured Nina to her heart. "And she is +singing to the Bambinetto,--to the Santissimo Bambino. Ah, yes, it +must be the Santa Maria, for who else could have a voice like that,--so +sweet and soft, yet so heavenly clear and pure?" + +No one she had ever heard could sing like that. Not Luisa who sang for +pennies on the street, nor Guilia, nor Edwiga, nor yet Filomena +herself, who was so proud of her voice and who carolled lustily all day +long. No, no, it must be the Santa Maria. + +Telemacho (Telemacho was a neighbor who played upon the harp and +sometimes let Nina go with him on his tramps, to sing and play upon her +fiddle, but oftener forced her to go alone,--they earned more so, he +said) had often told her about the Santa Maria and the Gesu Bambino. +Oh, it was a beautiful story, and--ah! ah! _of course_ it was the Santa +Maria. Was not this the Festa del Gesu Bambino? To be sure, it was, +and she had forgotten. No wonder the Santa Maria was singing to the +Bambinetto. To-morrow would be his birthday, his _festa_. + +She would go to the blessed _Madre_ and say,-- + +"Ah, _Madre mia_, I heard thee singing to the Bambino, and it was so +sweet, _so_ sweet, I could not help but follow, I _love_ it so." + +She stepped softly to the heavy doors, and with her whole weight +bracing against one, pushed it softly open and passed through. Ah! but +it was beautiful here. + +Far, far above her head shone out dimly a hundred sparks of light like +twinkling stars. And everywhere hung garlands of green, sweet-smelling +garlands of green, that filled the place with their spicy fragrance. +And no one need grow weary here for lack of resting-place. Why, it was +quite filled with seats, soft-cushioned and comfortable. Nina stole +into one of the pews and sat down. She was very tired,--very, very +tired. + +From her dim corner she peeped forth timidly, scarcely daring to raise +her eyes lest the vision of the radiant Madonna should burst upon her +view all too suddenly. But when at last she really gazed aloft to the +point from which the tremulous voice sprung, no glorified figure met +her view. She still heard the melting, thrilling tones, but, alas! the +blessed singer--the Santa Maria--was invisible. All she could +distinguish in the half-gloom of the place was the form of a man seated +in the lofty gallery overhead. He was sitting before some kind of +instrument, and his fingers slipping over the keys were bringing forth +the most wonderful sounds. Ah, yes! Nina knew what music one could +make with one's fingers. Did not Telemacho play upon the harp? Did +not she herself accompany her own singing upon her fiddle,--her darling +fiddle, which she clasped lovingly beneath her arm and bravely tried to +shield from the weather? But surely, surely he could not be _playing_ +that voice! Oh, no! it was the Santa Maria, and she was up in heaven +out of sight. It was only the sound of her singing that had come to +earth. Poor little Nina! She was so often disappointed that it was +not very hard to miss another joy. She must comfort herself by finding +a reason for it. If there was a reason, it was not so hard. Nina had +to think of a great many reasons. But nevertheless she could not +control one little sigh of regret. She would so much have liked to see +the Santa Maria. If she _had_ seen her, she thought she would have +asked her to give her a Christmas gift,--something she could always +keep, something that no one could take from her and that would never +spoil nor break. One had need of just such an indestructible +possession if one lived in the "Italian Quarter." Things got sadly +broken there. And--and--there were so few, so very few gifts. But it +was warm and dim and sweet in here,--a right good place in which to +rest when one was tired. She bent her head and leaned it against the +wooden back of the seat, and her eyes wandered first to one interesting +object and then to another,--to the tall windows, each of which was a +most beautiful picture, and all made of wonderfully colored glass; to +the frescoed walls garlanded with green and at last to the organ-loft +itself, in which was the solitary figure of the musician, seated before +that strange, many-keyed instrument of his, practising his Christmas +music. + +He had lit the gas-jets at either side of the key-board, and they threw +quite a light upon him as he played, and upon the huge organ-pipes +above his head. Nina thought she had never seen anything as beautiful +as were their illuminated surfaces. She did not know what they were, +but that did not matter. She thought they looked very much like +exceedingly pointed slippers set upright upon their toes. She fancied +they were slippers belonging to the glorious angels who, Telemacho +said, always came to earth at Christmas-tide to sing heavenly anthems +for the Festa del Gesu Bambino, and to distribute blessings to those +who were worthy. + +Perhaps they had trod upon the ice outside, and had wet the soles of +their slippers, so that they had been forced to set them up on end to +dry. She had no doubt they would be gone in the morning. + +The tremulous voice had ceased some time ago, and now the organ was +sending forth deep, heavy chords that made the air thrill and vibrate. +The pew in which Nina sat quite shook with the sounds, and she shrank +away from the wooden back, and cuddled down upon the cushion in the +seat, feeling very mysterious and awestruck, but withal quite warm and +happily expectant. + +"Ah, ah!" she thought, "they are coming,--the angels are coming. That +is why the seat trembles so. There are so many of them that though +they step very lightly it shakes the ground. He, up there, is playing +their march music for them. Oh, I know! I know! I have seen the +soldiers in the streets; and when they came one could feel the ground +tremble, and they had music, too,--they kept step to it. I 'll lie +very still and not move, and maybe I can even get a glimpse of the Gesu +Bambino himself, and if I should--ah! _if_ I should, then I know I 'd +never be tired nor cold nor sad-hearted any more." + +Nina started suddenly to her feet. The place was filled with a soft, +white radiance. Faintly, as though from a distance, came the sounds of +delicious music, and a rare fragrance was in all the air. What was it? +Oh, what was it? She felt her heart beat louder and faster, and she +thought she must cry out for very pain of its throbbing. But she made +no sound, only waited and watched in breathless wonder and anticipation. + +The light about her grew clearer and more lustrous; the faint strains +of melody more glorious, and the perfumed air sweeter still; and lo! +the whole place was thronged with white-winged spirits, clad all in +garments so pure and spotless that they glistered at every turn. Each +seemed to have in charge some precious treasure which she clasped +lovingly to her breast, and all were so beautiful and tender-eyed that +Nina could not be afraid. The dazzling forms flitted to and fro like +filmy clouds; and as one passed very near her, Nina stretched out her +hand to grasp her floating robe. But though she scarcely touched it, +it was enough to make the delicate fabric sag and droop as if some +strange weight had suddenly been attached to it. Its wearer paused in +her flight, and glanced down at her garment anxiously, and then for an +instant appeared to be trying to remember something. In her eyes there +grew a troubled look, but she shook her head and murmured,-- + +"Alas! What have I done? What can I have done? I can think of no way +in which I have let the world touch me, and yet I must have, for my +robe is weighted, and--" But here she suddenly espied Nina. + +"Ah!" she cried, her deep eyes clearing, "it was you, then, little +mortal. For a moment I was struck with fear. You see if a bit of the +world attaches to our garments it makes them heavy and weighs them +down, and it is a long time ere they regain their lightness. Such a +mishap seldom occurs, for generally we are only too glad to keep our +minds on perfect things. But once in a long, long while we may give a +thought to earth, and then it always hangs upon us like a clog; and if +we did not immediately try to shake it off, we should soon be quite +unable to rid ourselves of it, and it would grow and grow, and by and +by we should have lost the power to rise above the earth, and should +have to be poor worldlings like the rest; and, on the other hand, if +the worldlings would only throw off all the earth-thoughts that weigh +them down, they would become lighter and more spotless, and at last be +one of us. But if it was you who touched my robe and if I can help +you, I am not afraid. What do you wish, little one?" + +For a moment Nina could find no voice in which to reply; but by and by +she gained courage to falter out,-- + +"I came in here because I heard most beautiful music, and I thought it +might be the Santa Maria singing to the Bambinetto, since it is his +birthday--or will be to-morrow; and I thought--I did not mean to do +wrong, but I thought maybe if I could see the Gesu Santissimo once, +only once, I should never be tired nor cold nor sad-hearted any more. +They say on the Festa del Gesu Bambino one gets most beautiful gifts. +I have never got any gifts; but perhaps he might give me one if I +promised to be very good and to take most excellent care of it and +never to lose it." + +By this time the whole company of spirits, seeing their sister in +conversation with a little mortal, had crowded eagerly about; and as +Nina finished her sentence they all cried out in the sweetest, most +musical chorus imaginable,-- + +"She wants a gift,--the earth-child wants a gift; and she promises to +be very good, and to take excellent care of it and never lose it. The +little one shall have a gift." + +But most gently they were silenced by a nod from the spirit to whom +Nina had first spoken. + +"Dear child," she said, "we are the Christmas spirits,--Peace, Love, +Hope, Good-will, and all the rest. We come from above, and we are +laden with good gifts for mankind. To whomever is willing to receive +we give; but, alas! so few care for what we bring. They misuse it or +lose it; and that makes us very sad, for each gift we carry is most +good and perfect." + +"Oh! how can they?" cried Nina. "I would be so careful of mine, dear +spirits. I would lock it away, and--" + +But here the spirit interrupted her with a pitying smile and the +words,-- + +"But you should never do that, dear one. If one shuts away one's gifts +and does not let others profit by them, that is ill too. One must make +the best of them, share them with the world always, and remember whence +they come." + +"Will you show me some of your gifts?" asked Nina, timidly. + +The spirit drew nearer and took from her bosom a glittering gem. It +was clear and flawless, and though it was white a thousand sparks of +flame broke from its heart, and flashed their different hues to every +side. As Nina looked, wrapped in admiration, she felt her heart grow +big, and she felt a great longing to do some one a kindness,--to do +good to some one, no matter to whom. + +The spirits gazed at her kindling eyes. + +"There!" they cried in joyous unison, "Love has already given you her +gift. The way you must use it is always to put in everything you do. +It will never grow less, but will always grow more if you do as we say. +And it is the same with Hope and Peace and Good-will and all the rest. +If all to whom we give our gifts should use them aright, the world +would hold a festival all the year." + +And at this all the blessed throng closed about her, and loaded her +down with their offerings, until she was quite overcome with gratitude +and emotion. + +"All we ask is that you use them well," they repeated with one accord. +"Let nothing injure them, for some day you will be called to account +for them all, you know. And now you are to have a special gift,--one +by which you can gain world-praise and world-glory. And oh! be careful +of it, dear; it will gain for you great good if you do not abuse it, +and you need never be tired nor cold nor sad-hearted any more--" + +"But I have no place to keep all these things," cried Nina. "I have no +home. I live anywhere. I am only a poor little Italian singing-girl. +I--" + +"Keep them in your heart," answered the spirits, softly; and then one +of them bent over and kissed her upon the lips. + +"Ah, _gracia_, _gracia_,--thanks, thanks!" she cried; but even as she +spoke she sank back in dismay, for everything about her was dark and +still, and for a moment she did not know where she was. Then groping +blindly about in the shadow, she felt the wooden back of the pew in +which she sat, and then she remembered. + +But the gifts,--the spirits' Christmas gifts to her. Where were they? +For a long time she searched, stretching out her hand and passing it +over cushion, bench, and floor; but all in vain. No heavenly object +met her grasp, and at last she gave a poor little moan of +disappointment and sorrow,-- + +"It was only a dream after all,--only a dream." + +But now through the tall windows stole a faint streak of light. It +grew ever stronger, and by its aid Nina made her way to the doors, in +order to escape from the church in which she had slept away the night. +But alas! they were closed and fastened tight. She could not get out. +She wandered to and fro through the silent aisles, growing quite +familiar with the dusky place and feeling not at all afraid. She +thought over her dream, and recalled the fact that it was Christmas +Day,--the Festa del Gesu Bambino. + +"It was a dream," she mused; "but it was a beautiful one! Perhaps the +spirits gave it to me for my Christmas gift. Perhaps the Gesu bade +them give it me for my Christmas gift;" and just as a glorious burst of +sunshine struck through the illuminated windows, she took up her little +fiddle, raised her bow and her voice at the same time, and sang out in +worshipful gratitude,-- + + "Mira, cuor mio durissimo, + Il bel Bambin Gesu, + Che in quel presepe asprissimo, + Or lo fai nascer tu!" + +She did not hear a distant door open, nor did she see through it the +man who had unconsciously lured her into the church the evening before +by the power of his playing. No; she was conscious of nothing but her +singing and the sweet, long notes she was drawing with her bow from the +strings of her beloved violin. + +But she did hear, after she had finished, a low exclamation, and then +she did see that same man hastening toward her with outstretched hands. + +"Child, child," he cried, "how came you here! And such a voice! _such_ +a voice! Why, it is a gift from Heaven!" + +And amid all the excitement that followed,--the excitement of telling +who she was and hearing that she was to be taken care of and given a +home and trained to sing,--that, in fact, she was never to be tired nor +cold nor sad-hearted any more,--she had time to think,-- + +"Ah! _now_ I know. It was not a dream; it was the truth. I have all +my gifts in my heart for safe keeping. And my voice--hear! the +player-man says it is a gift from Heaven. And oh, I will always use it +with love and good-will, as the spirits bade me. They said it every +one did so it would be a _festa_ all the year." + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DREAMLAND*** + + +******* This file should be named 16348.txt or 16348.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/3/4/16348 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: +https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/16348.zip b/16348.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0631eb8 --- /dev/null +++ b/16348.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9e48b1b --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #16348 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/16348) |