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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/24697-h.zip b/24697-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..675fc8c --- /dev/null +++ b/24697-h.zip diff --git a/24697-h/24697-h.htm b/24697-h/24697-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6838f87 --- /dev/null +++ b/24697-h/24697-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4773 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Seven Little People and their Friends, by Horace Elisha Scudder</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + div.centered {text-align: center;} /* work around for IE centering with CSS problem part 1 */ + div.centered table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;} /* work around for IE centering with CSS problem part 2 */ + + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + color: silver; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + + + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + + .centerbox { width: 50%; /* heading box */ + margin: 0 auto; + text-align: center; + padding: 1em; + } + + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Seven Little People and their Friends, by +Horace Elisha Scudder</h1> +<pre> +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 <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Seven Little People and their Friends</p> +<p>Author: Horace Elisha Scudder</p> +<p>Release Date: February 26, 2008 [eBook #24697]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SEVEN LITTLE PEOPLE AND THEIR FRIENDS***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Julia Miller, Joseph Cooper,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 384px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="384" height="600" alt="" title="book cover" /> +</div> + + + + + <h1>SEVEN LITTLE PEOPLE<br /> + AND THEIR FRIENDS</h1> + + <h4>BY</h4> + + <h2>HORACE E. SCUDDER</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 117px;"> +<img src="images/illus-003.jpg" width="117" height="150" alt="" title="logo" /> +</div> + + <p class="center">BOSTON AND NEW YORK<br /> + + HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY<br /><br /> + + The Riverside Press Cambridge<br /> + + Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1862,<br /> + By Horace E. Scudder<br /><br /> + + In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern<br /> + District of New York.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="centerbox"> +<p>The Seven Little People who have lived with me for the last two or three +years, and with whom I have been wont to entertain my friends among the +children, are now about to leave their quiet home and make their +appearance in society. The experience which they severally have enjoyed, +whether under the sea or in Percanian palaces, or on desert islands, or +upon birth-nights, has perhaps hardly fitted them for associating with +the world's people; and yet, I trust, they will find some glad to +receive them, and hear them tell of the friends whom they found in their +various wanderings. It is true that two of these Little People have no +friends at all, but then it was their own choice, for did they not +deliberately cast themselves away, and abjure all society but that of +their mute companion? It will be found also that in one of these Stories +there are no Little People, but it is no more than just that the Friends +should for once be allowed their drama to themselves. All of these Seven +are the children of my brain, and I am somewhat loth to let them go so +far from me; but if they find no hospitable fireside to receive them, +they will at least always be welcome at mine.</p></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 387px;"> +<img src="images/illus-002.jpg" width="387" height="600" alt="Shahtah gets the coat on with difficulty.—See p. +178." title="" /> +<span class="caption">Shahtah gets the coat on with difficulty.—See p. +<a href='#Page_178'><b>178</b></a>.</span> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> + + + +<div class='centered'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="70%" cellspacing="0" summary="CONTENTS"> +<tr><th align='left'>THE THREE WISHES</th></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap" style="margin-left: 2em;">Wish the First</span>—Under the Sea</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_11'><b>11</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap" style="margin-left: 2em;">Wish the Second</span>—On the Mountain</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_37'><b>37</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap" style="margin-left: 2em;">Wish the Third and Last</span>—In the Cottage</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_49'><b>49</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><th align='left'>A CHRISTMAS STOCKING WITH A HOLE IN IT</th></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">I. The Stocking is Hung</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_57'><b>57</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">II. Midnight</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_71'><b>71</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">III. Kleiner Traum Visits Peter Mit</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_79'><b>79</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">IV. Kleiner Traum Visits David Morgridge</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_88'><b>88</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">V. Morgridge Klaus</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_92'><b>92</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><th align='left'>THE LITTLE CASTAWAYS</th><td align='right'><a href='#Page_99'><b>99</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><th align='left'>A FAERY SURPRISE PARTY</th><td align='right'><a href='#Page_133'><b>133</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><th align='left'>THE ROCK ELEPHANT</th><td align='right'><a href='#Page_149'><b>149</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><th align='left'>THE OLD BROWN COAT</th></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">I. The Gift</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_175'><b>175</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">II. The Sacrifice</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_199'><b>199</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><th align='left'>NEW YEAR'S DAY IN THE GARDEN</th><td align='right'><a href='#Page_219'><b>219</b></a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<h2><br /><br />THE THREE WISHES</h2> + +<h2>BESSIE'S STORY<br /><br /></h2> +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="Wish_the_First_Under_the_Sea" id="Wish_the_First_Under_the_Sea"></a>Wish the First.—Under the Sea.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 226px;"> +<img src="images/illus-011.jpg" width="226" height="400" style="margin-top: -2em;" alt="" title="L" /> +</div> +<p>ITTLE Effie Gilder's porridge did taste good! and so it ought; for +beside that Mother Gilder made it, and Mother Gilder's porridge was +always just right, Effie was eating it on her seat upon the sea-shore in +front of her father's house. The sun was just going down and the tide +was rising, so that the little waves came tumbling up on the beach, as +if they were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> racing, each one falling headlong on the sand in the +scramble to get there first; and then slipping back again, there would +be left a long streak of white foam just out of reach of Effie. She was +sitting on what she called her chair, but it was a chair without legs or +back or arms—only a great flat stone, where she used to come every +sunshiny afternoon and eat her bowl of porridge.</p> + +<p>It was smoking-hot—that porridge! and she was eating away with a great +relish, holding the bowl in her lap and drumming upon it with her +drumstick of a spoon. I wish you could have seen her as she sat there, +with her hat falling off and the sun touching her hair and turning the +rich auburn into a golden colour. But somebody did see her; for just +before the sun went down, Effie spied an old man coming along the beach +to the place where she sat. "That must be Uncle Ralph," thought she, +"coming home from fishing." "No," she said; as he came nearer, "it +isn't, it's Granther Allen." "Why no! it isn't Granther; who can it be? +what a queer old man!"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 361px;"> +<img src="images/illus-012.jpg" width="361" height="550" alt=""Effie spied an old man coming along the beach."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"Effie spied an old man coming along the beach."</span> +</div> + +<p>By this time the old man had come quite near. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> was a very old man. +His hair was long and as white as snow; he was so bent over that as he +leaned upon his smooth stout cane, his head almost touched the knob on +the top of it; and it kept wagging sidewise, as if he were saying "No" +all the time. He had on a long grey coat almost the colour of his hair, +and it reached down to his feet on which was a pair of shoes so covered +with dust that they were of the same colour as his coat; and his hat was +the oddest of all! it was very high and peaked, and looked as if it had +been rubbed in the flour barrel before he put it on.</p> + +<p>This old man came up toward Effie very slowly, his head shaking all the +time and his feet dragging one after the other as if he could hardly +reach her. Effie began to be frightened, but when he spoke to her it was +with such a sweet musical voice that she thought she had never heard +anything half so beautiful.</p> + +<p>"My little child," said he, "I am very tired; I have come a long way +to-day and have had nothing to eat since morning. Will you give me some +of your porridge that looks so nice?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes! sir," said Effie, jumping up and giving him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> the bowl. "But +there isn't much left. Won t you come into the house and mother will +give you some bread."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! my little girl," said the old man. "I do not need anything more +than this porridge to make me strong again;" and as he spoke, he raised +himself up and stood as straight as his own smooth stick that his hand +hardly rested on; and his head stopped wagging, and he stood there a +tall old man with a beautiful face and such a beautiful voice as he +asked again:</p> + +<p>"What is your name, my little girl?"</p> + +<p>"Effie Gilder, sir. And this is my birth-day; I'm six years old to-day."</p> + +<p>"Six years old to-day! and what shall I give you, little Effie, on this +your birth-day? I love all good little children, and you were good to me +to give me your porridge. Little Effie, I am going to let you wish three +things, but you may only wish one thing at a time. One thing to-day, and +another when your next birth-day comes, and the last when the birth-day +after that comes. Now tell me what you wish most of all."</p> + +<p>Effie looked at him in wonder. "What! really? have any thing she wanted +for the asking?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes," said the old man; "but you must ask it before the sun goes down."</p> + +<p>Effie looked at the sun; it had nearly touched the water and looked like +a great red ball, and she thought it would go down, clear, into the +water, as she had so often seen it, without any clouds around it.</p> + +<p>"I wish,—" said she, "let me see what I wish! oh, I wish that I might go +down to the bottom of the ocean and see all the beautiful shells and the +fishes, and every thing that's going on down there!" When she said it, +the little waves laughed as they came scampering up to her, as if they +said—"What a droll idea!"</p> + +<p>"You shall go," said the old man, "before many more suns have set. And +next year when your birth-day comes round, I will come again for your +second wish. Farewell, my little child."</p> + +<p>Effie looked at him, and lo! he was quite bent over again, and his head +was shaking harder than ever, as if he said "No, no, no," all the while; +then she looked at the sun to see it go down, clear, into the water, but +about it were clouds of gold and crimson, and the sun<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> just peeped out +behind them, as behind bars, for a moment, and then went down covered by +the clouds into the black waters; and in a moment or two, as she stood +watching, the beautiful clouds were grey and sombre and spread in a +long, low line along the horizon.</p> + +<p>"Effie! Effie! come into the house!" she heard her mother calling; and +there was Mrs. Gilder, standing in the door-way with her gown tucked up +around her, and an apron on, which was the most wonderful apron for +pockets you ever saw! I should not dare to say how many pockets it had, +for fear you would not believe me, but if you had seen how many things +she kept in them, you would think with me, that there never was such a +wonderful apron.</p> + +<p>"Come here, Effie," said she, and diving into one of her apron pockets +she pulled out a little parcel. "See what I've brought you from the +village for a birth-day present;" and she unrolled the paper and showed +her a little candy dog; his body was white, striped blue and red, and +his short tail stood straight up, which was more than the little dog +could do, for when he was put on the table, instead of standing on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> his +four legs like respectable dogs, he fell over on his side. Effie took +the dog, but did not seem half so glad to get it as her mother thought +she would, and even forgot to thank her for it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother!" said she, "did you see that real old man just now, with +such long white hair, and a white coat that came way down to his heels, +and his head went just so"—shaking her own, "and oh! he told me I might +have any thing I wanted, and I said I wanted to go down to the bottom of +the ocean, and he said I should, and he's coming again on my next +birth-day, and I am to wish for something again. Do you think he really +can take me to the bottom of the sea?"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! child. It's some old crazy man. I wonder you didn't run away +from him. Come into the house, it's time for you to go to bed. And bring +your dog along with you. You mustn't eat it. It's only to play with."</p> + +<p>"I hate that nasty little dog!" said Effie, and her pretty face became +twisted into a pucker, "and I don't want to go to bed."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Tut, tut! Puss," said Father Gilder, who was smoking his pipe by the +fire. "What! naughty on your birth-day? I thought you were going to be +good always after this. I guess she's tired, mother."</p> + +<p>Effie's pouting was crying by this time, and Mother Gilder brought a +handkerchief out of another of her pockets, and wiping the child's face, +led her to her little cot and put her to bed with the little dog where +she could see it when she woke up, lying stiff on his side with his tail +straight up in the air.</p> + +<p>Father Gilder shook his head. "'T won't do, mother," said he, "we can't +have little Effie a cross child. Bless me! why, my pipe's out! where's +some tobacco?"</p> + +<p>"Here," said Mrs. Gilder, plunging her hand into another of her +wonderful apron's pockets and fishing out some tobacco, and then diving +into another for matches, filling and lighting her old man's pipe. They +looked at the little child lying in her crib, and thought now they would +do any thing in the world to make her happy and good. She was fast +asleep now, and her little face had become untied—for you know it was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +in a knot when she lay down—and now she was smiling in her sleep. +Perhaps she was dreaming about the old man with the beautiful voice, and +thinking she saw him again.</p> + +<p>The next day, Effie was playing on the beach, picking up the shells and +making little holes in the sand, watching to see the water come up and +fill them, when she remembered the old man she had seen the day before, +and she said to herself, "I wish he would come and take me down to the +bottom of the ocean!" when, lo! just as she had wished it, the queerest +little man came walking out of the water to where she stood. He was the +funniest looking little man, I'll be bound, you ever saw. He was not +more than three feet high, and he had a hump-back—so humped that it +looked almost like a wide horn coming out of his back. And he was +dressed entirely in green; just as green as sea-weed, and to tell the +truth, his clothes were made of sea-weed when you came to look at them +closely; all woven of green sea-weed, and on the hump, his coat, which +was made to fit it, was stuffed with soft sea grass so that it looked +like a cushion. His feet were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> great flat feet, and his hands were +almost as large as his feet; and as for his legs, they were so crooked +and so covered with barnacles, that you never would have known them for +legs anywhere else. He had on a cap made of seal-skin with two ends +bobbing behind.</p> + +<p>He came right out of the water and stood before Effie, dripping with +wet, and bowing, and smiling, and scraping and twitching his cap, as +much as to say, "Your most obedient servant, Miss, and what can I do for +you this morning?" and he did say out aloud, "It's all right! Get up +there"—pointing to his hump—"and I will carry you down safely, little +maiden!"</p> + +<p>"But I shall get wet!" laughed Effie.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" said he, "I'll cover you up." So he stooped down, but he +didn't have very far to stoop, he was so short; and she got on top of +the hump and held on by the ends of the seal-skin cap that were dangling +behind. The little man put his hands in his pockets and pulled out +bunches of sea-weed and covered her up with it, and tied her on with +long string of sea-grass, until she was quite safe, and then waded +straight into the water.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> + +<p>The beach sloped quickly and the little man was short, so that in a few +strides the water was up to the hump on which Effie was sitting. Then +the little girl began to be frightened and shut her eyes tight, and when +she heard the water splashing about them, she wanted to cry out, but she +couldn't and held on tight to the bobs of the seal-skin cap. Then she +felt the water rushing over their heads, but still the little sea-green +man went striding over the ground, putting out his flat hands at his +side, as if they were oars, and seeming to push the water away as he +went swiftly forward. At first Effie could hear the water overhead, +tumbling and rolling about and rising up and down; then it became +quieter, and finally it was perfectly still, except when some fish would +dart by them, just grazing the hump and disturbing the water a little.</p> + +<p>Now, when every thing was so quiet, she began slowly to raise her +eyelids a little, until she had her eyes wide open and was staring about +her. She seemed to be looking through green glass, and could not see +very distinctly, but every once in a while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> some dim fish would move +beside her; and as her eyes got more used to the place, all things +became clearer, and soon she saw that on both sides of her and behind, +there was a multitude of fishes of all sizes. They swam beside her, the +older and bigger ones moving very sedately, and keeping the same order; +but the little frisky fishes would tumble around in great glee, and come +darting up to Effie, putting their cold noses up to her face and then go +racing back, giggling and whipping their tails about in a fine frolic; +and the awkward, bungling, good-natured dolphins, would come tumbling in +among the steady fishes and make the greatest commotion, almost +upsetting little Effie two or three times, and then go bouncing off, +shaking their fat sides with laughter. There was an old sword-fish, that +seemed to be a kind of special constable, who kept going round and +round, pricking the dolphins whenever he got a chance and frightening +the little fishes almost out of their senses; as often as he made his +appearance, with that long sword of his sticking out, such a scampering +as there would be! and how the wee fishes would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> try to hide behind the +dolphins, and how the dolphins would slap them with their fins, and go +rolling in among the steady fishes, as if they were the most quiet, +well-disposed, respectable fishes that ever were. Oh! how they frolicked +and tumbled about the little sea-green man with Effie on his back! Effie +shouted and clapped her hands in great glee, and tried to hop up and +down on the little man's hump, but she was so tied down that she +couldn't, so she kept digging her toes into his back, and twitching the +bobs of the seal-skin cap, till he got going at a terrible pace, so fast +that it was as much as the fishes and dolphins could do to keep up with +him, without playing by the way!</p> + +<p>Now, after they had gone what seemed to Effie a great way, every thing +became clearer, and the little man shortened his pace and began +arranging his cap, which Effie had pulled out of shape, and smoothing +down his sea-weed clothes; the fishes all went slowly along in their +regular places, only the little fishes behind would teaze the dolphins, +and the sword-fish looked as stately as the old fellow could, and gave<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +some serious digs at the dolphins whenever they showed signs of being +unruly; and lastly, two or three flying-fish shot off in advance of the +rest, and the procession moved slowly on.</p> + +<p>"What is coming, I wonder!" thought Effie. Then she looked all about her +and over the little man's shoulder to see what was in front; and away +off in the distance she saw the dim outline of something that looked +like a gate-way. And as they came nearer, sure enough it was a gate-way, +and when they came up to it she saw the pillars, made of beautiful white +coral, and the gate itself made of a whale's skin, polished and studded +with shark's teeth as white as ivory. The little man stopped before the +gate, which was shut, and the sword-fish came forward in the most +pompous manner, and knocked with his sword upon the coral posts.</p> + +<p>"Who comes here?" asked a voice within. "I demand it in the name of the +Queen of the Ocean Deeps."</p> + +<p>"I come," said the little sea-green man, "I, the servant of the Queen of +the Ocean Deeps bearing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> with me the earth-born child. I crave +admittance in the name of the Queen."</p> + +<p>At that the gates swung open and the procession moved in. Once through +the gate-way, where sat the porter—a hermit crab—the road, paved with +lovely shells, wound about, and Effie held her breath to see how +beautiful it was. They moved along the shining floor, and by-and-by they +came to another gate, more beautiful than the first, where they went +through the same form, only the porter within, just before he swung open +the doors, said:</p> + +<p>"Enter, servant of the Queen of the Ocean Deeps, bearing the earth-born +child, and ye his attendants, but let no one enter who does not the +bidding of our good-loving Queen." As each one passed in, the porter +said:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"When thou comest through this gate,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Leave behind thee sinful hate.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He that can not—let him wait."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>And each one answered, else the porter would not have let him in,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"There is no thing in all the sea,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That I or hate or hateth me.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I only hate the sin I flee."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>When it came to the little fishes' turn, the old constable sword-fish +looked sharply at them, but they answered like the rest in a demure way, +with a side wink at the dolphins; those lubberly fellows blundered +through somehow, and looked sheepish enough at saying it so poorly. Last +of all came the sword-fish, who seemed to feel hurt that he should be +asked the same question, and gruffly answered, whereupon the gate was +shut and they all passed along.</p> + +<p>Then they came in sight of the palace of the Queen. What a sight that +was! The walls were of pure coral, and all about the doors and windows +were shells of every variety of colour and form. There were arches and +pillars set around with shells, and in the corners grew graceful +sea-weed, that clung to the palace and waved to and fro its long, soft +leaves. Little Effie looked up and saw that the building was not +finished, and that all around her there was a continual hum of movement. +Then they entered the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> door of the palace and passed through long +galleries, until they came to a great and beautiful door and heard +within voices singing. A porter sat behind this door also, and asked the +same questions, and they all answered as before, in one voice, only they +spoke more softly. Now they stood in the great hall of the palace, and +lo! there was the Queen herself, sitting on her throne, and about her +were her maids of honour. It was they who had been singing, but who +stopped when the procession came in. They were sitting at wheels and +long stone looms, spinning and weaving wondrous robes of purple and +scarlet and green; the Queen herself was weaving a gorgeous garment of +all the most beautiful colours.</p> + +<p>The little man stopped in front of the Queen and made three of his +comical little bows, and all the attendant fishes bobbed their heads up +and down; the dolphins gave some awkward, bungling shakes of the whole +body that made the little fishes almost burst into laughing, and the old +fellow with a sword looked exceedingly serious and made the most +dignified bow imaginable. Then the Queen spoke:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My faithful servant, hast thou obeyed my commands and brought the child +of earth?"</p> + +<p>"She is here, my good-loving Queen," said he. "What is thy will with +her?" When little Effie heard this, she began to be frightened and to +think—"Oh, dear! what is she going to do with me?" but the Queen looked +so good that she felt at ease again and listened for what she would say.</p> + +<p>"Take the child," said she, "and show her the beauties of my palace, and +let her see the wonderful works that are done here; answer all her +questions and bring her back to me again." Then they all bowed again. +And as they moved away, Effie heard the song that the maidens at the +wheels and looms sang.</p> + + +<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><b>The Song of the Sea-Maidens.</b></span></p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 8em;"><b>I.</b></span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Spin, maidens, spin! let the wheel go round!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hours that once are lost can never more be found.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">(<i>Chorus</i>) Work, hands! Love, heart!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">Every one here has his part,——</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Has his work to do,—has his love to give,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thus we work, thus we love ever while we live.</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + + +<p><span style="margin-left: 8em;"><b>II.</b></span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Weave, maidens, weave! let the shuttle fly!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Time and we are racing; faster, faster ply!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">(<i>Chorus</i>) Work, hands! Love, heart! etc.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 8em;"><b>III.</b></span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sing, maidens, sing! as ye spin and weave,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Work was never meant our joyous hearts to grieve,</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">(<i>Chorus</i>) Work, hands! Love, heart! etc.</span><br /> +</p> +<p><span style="margin-left: 8em;"><b>IV.</b></span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As the wheel goes round—as the shuttle flies,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let your songs and hearts upward, upward rise!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">(<i>Chorus</i>) Work, hands! Love, heart!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">Every one here has his part, etc.</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p>They passed out of the hall, and the little sea green man said, "To the +Top!" So they came to the top of the house, and there they saw hundreds +and thousands of little coral insects, working to make the house more +beautiful, and each, when he had done all that he could, lay down and +died. And the little man told Effie how all this beautiful palace had +been made by these insects and how it never would stop growing, but +always some coral insect would be doing his tiny work, and when he had +done all he could, would die.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What is that humming?" asked Effie.</p> + +<p>"That is the song they sing as they work," said he. "Listen! do you not +hear it?" Effie listened hard and just caught a few words of the chorus.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">"Every one here has his part——</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Has his work to do, has his love to give,——</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thus we work, thus we love ever while we live."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"Why, that is what the maidens who were spinning sang," said she.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said he, "they all sing the same song to different music." Then +she began to hear the words all about her, and she found that the little +sea green man, and the fishes, small and great, and the dolphins and the +old constable sword fish were all singing the same song, each in his own +way. So they went down again and through the whole palace and saw the +shells, some of them indeed making pearls, but all singing the same +song, and the sponges that were growing and the branches of coraline +that one by one loosened themselves and floated upward, singing as they +rose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> all about her, from corals and shells and grasses and sponges and +fishes, came this one song, each singing it to his own air, yet the +whole melody rising and sinking in a single harmonious strain.</p> + +<p>Effie looked on at every thing in wonder, and at last they came back to +the Queen's presence. She, too, was singing with her maidens; but when +the procession came in again, and went through their bows once more, she +said to the little sea-green man—and their voices were all hushed:</p> + +<p>"My faithful servant, have you shown the little maiden all the wonders +of the palace?"</p> + +<p>"Yea, my good-loving Queen."</p> + +<p>"And do they all spend their lives in good-working, singing as they +work?"</p> + +<p>"Yea, my good-loving Queen, all;" and the hum of the song rose all about +her.</p> + +<p>"Then back again lead the little child, and carry her to her home on +earth, that she too may live and work and sing. For</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Every one <i>there</i> has his part:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Has his work to do, has his love to give,"—</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> + +<p>And all the voices sang with her</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Thus we work, thus we love ever while we live."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Then the procession moved out again, and Effie clung still to the little +man's seal-skin cap, as she sat on her cushion of sea-weed, upon the +hump on his back; and he marched along, using his flat hands like oars, +while the gruff old constable with his sword, and the dolphins and the +fishes, great and small, moved beside the pair, and they all went +swiftly up from the light to the darker green, the voices growing +fainter to Effie, and their forms more indistinct.</p> + +<p>The little sea-green man brought Effie out of the water, and set her +down on the beach, and then, making his profoundest bow, he walked off +to the water again, the ends of his seal-skin cap dangling and bobbing +behind. Effie watched him go under the water, and then walked up into +the house. There was her mother frying some fish which Father Gilder had +just brought home for supper, while he was chopping wood at the side of +the house. It was not a bit like the beautiful palace she had seen, with +the Queen of the Ocean Deeps, and her maidens about her, weav<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>ing and +singing songs. Effie wished the little sea-green man had never brought +her up again, but had let her always live in such a beautiful place.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Effie?" asked her mother, looking up from the +frying-pan, and seeing Effie stand there, staring into the fire.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother!" said she, "I have seen such beautiful things!"</p> + +<p>"Whereabouts, child!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, way down under the water! Such a funny little man, all dressed in +sea-weed, took me down on his back, and—"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Effie! don't come to me with such stories. Go and wash your +face and hands, and get yourself ready for supper."</p> + +<p>"But really! mother,—"</p> + +<p>"Sh! child; do as I tell you, and don't talk to <i>me</i> about your going +down underneath the water; you'd ha' been wet through if you had."</p> + +<p>"But he covered me all up with sea-weed."</p> + +<p>"Poh! you've been asleep on the rock, and dreaming about it; it's a +wonder you didn't fall off into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> water. Come! run and wash yourself. +Supper's most ready."</p> + +<p>Effie went off pouting; and Mother Gilder took the frying-pan off the +fire with the fish sizzling and smoking hot. "Come, father!" said she, +"and Effie, hurry up! supper's on the table."</p> + +<p>"Where's your little dog, Effie?" said her father. Effie didn't speak.</p> + +<p>"Have you eat him up, eh?" Never a word from Effie.</p> + +<p>"The child is naughty!" said her mother, "Effie, speak to your father!" +But Effie looked crosser than ever.</p> + +<p>"Well, you shall go to bed without your supper," said Mrs. Gilder, +getting up, "if you're going to behave so. The little thing's been +telling some ridiculous story about a man's taking her down under the +water on his back!"</p> + +<p>"He <i>did</i> take me down!" cried Effie, "and I wish I'd stayed there! +erhn! erhn! erhn!" and she cried and cried.</p> + +<p>"Soh, soh, little one," said Father Gilder, "you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> wouldn't want to leave +your old father and mother, would you, Effie?"</p> + +<p>"N-n-n-no, b-b-but m-m-mother said I didn't go."</p> + +<p>"Ah, well! eat your supper, Effie, and then come and tell me all about +it." So Effie ate her supper and then sat in her father's lap, and began +to tell him all that I have told you; but before she had gone a great +way, she was so sleepy that she couldn't tell any thing more, but kept +saying, "And—and—and—a-n-d—a-n-d," till she fell fast asleep, and +Mother Gilder put her to bed, and she did not wake up once more till the +next morning.</p> + +<p>"Well, what d'ye think, old man, about this stuff?" asked Mrs. Gilder, +when Effie was snug in bed.</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know," said Mr. Gilder. "Its queer! its queer! I guess +the child's been dreaming. Light my pipe, old woman."</p> + +<p>So, when Mrs. Gilder had foraged in the pockets of her wonderful apron +and brought out the tobacco and matches, and had filled the pipe and +lighted it, the fisherman tilted his chair back against the chimney and +smoked his pipe, and thought about it; but could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> not come to any +conclusion, till at last his pipe went out, and he nodded, and nodded. +Mother Gilder who sat on the other side of the fire-place, knitting a +stocking that she brought out of one of her pockets, began to nod, too, +waking up every once in a while to find she had dropped her stitches, +and so making the needles go fast again for a few moments and then +slower, till she nodded again, and at last she was fast asleep on one +side of the fire-place, and Father Gilder on the other side, and little +Effie in her crib. And we'll steal out on tip-toe, so as not to wake +them, and come back again in just a year wanting one day.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Wish_the_Second_On_the_Mountain" id="Wish_the_Second_On_the_Mountain"></a>Wish the Second.—On the Mountain.</h2> + + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 319px;"> +<img src="images/illus-037.jpg" width="319" height="400" style="margin-top: -4em;" alt="" title="W" /> +</div> + +<p>ELL, we have been gone a year lacking one day, and here we are back +again on the beach, and there is the cottage, and Mrs. Gilder by her +table sewing on a frock for Effie, who is sitting on her seat—the great +flat rock, you know—down by the water. Effie is a year older now, and +this is her seventh birth-day. She has been a pretty good girl; but then +she wished a great many times that she could have stayed at the bottom +of the sea, and whenever she thought of it, she seemed to hear the song +that they sang there. Now she was sitting on her seat, looking out for +the old man, who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> you remember, had promised to come for her Second +Wish. She had thought about him a good many times and had made up her +mind what she would ask for. It was growing late and she began to be +afraid he would not come. She thought she would walk down the beach and +meet him; so she walked along looking for him all the while, when she +spied a boat coming toward the shore; but she did not look at it much, +she was so anxious to see her old man, and she thought she could make +him out, just coming along in the distance. Pretty soon, the boat came +up to the beach where she was, and a rough-looking sailor jumped out.</p> + +<p>"Little girl," said he, "where does Simon Gilder live?"</p> + +<p>"In that house, sir," pointing to the red cottage. "He is my father."</p> + +<p>"So you're his little girl, are you? Is your father in the house?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, he is in the patch in the woods back there, hoeing potatoes."</p> + +<p>"Will you go with me and show me where it is?" Effie looked along the +beach and saw the old man, as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> she thought, slowly coming toward them; +"Oh, dear!" thought she, "if the old man should come while I am gone!"</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, little girl?" said the sailor-man when he saw she +did not answer. "Are you afraid to go with me?"</p> + +<p>"No," faltered Effie looking down. "But mother said I wasn't to go away +from the beach."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Effie, Effie!" said a voice close to her. She started. Why! that +was the old man's voice; and when she looked up, there was no sailor-man +and no boat, and no one coming down the beach; but the same old man that +she saw last year, in the same grey clothes, with the same beautiful +long white hair, and his head shaking the same way as he bent down over +his old smooth stick—the same old man stood by her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Effie!" said he in his beautiful voice, "you have deceived me. You +weren't willing to do me a kindness; you cared too much about your own +happiness. And this is your birth-day. I have come for your Second Wish. +Remember, you have only one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> more wish after this. You must tell me this +one before the sun goes down. Look!"</p> + +<p>Effie looked as he pointed, and the sun stood just on the water's edge; +and there were clouds above it and around it, but she thought it would +go down clear. She had her wish all ready, though. "I +wish," said she, "that I might go on to the great mountain off there," +pointing back from the sea, "and see the birds and the trees and the +flowers."</p> + +<p>When she had said it, the clouds gathered before the sun, so that it +could not be seen, and spread over the whole heavens, and she had hardly +time to run to the cottage, before the rain began to pour down in +torrents. Out at sea it was all black, except where the white caps of +foam lighted up the waters; the waves rushed roaring on the beach, and +the wind drove the sharp rain against the house. Effie put her face +against the window-glass and peered out into the darkness, but she could +see nothing of the old man.</p> + +<p>"A bad ending to your birth-day, little Effie," said her father, coming +in just then, all dripping wet. "Never mind. A bad beginning makes a +good ending<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> so your birth-day must have begun well, and this day is the +beginning of the year for you, so the year'll end well. So it's good all +round, ha! It's a bad night, wife! I hope nobody's out in the storm; it +came up sudden."</p> + +<p>Effie thought of the old man and shivered to think how wet and cold he +would get. But she only thought of it a moment, and then began to wonder +how the wish would come to pass, and whether another little sea-green +man would come for her.</p> + +<p>So she went to bed and to sleep. But, lo! before morning came she was +waked by a tapping outside on the window-pane, close by her bed. At +first she was frightened and put her head under the bed-clothes; then +she thought, "Perhaps that is for me to go up on the mountain!" No +sooner did she think of that than she heard the tapping again, and then +a voice that said, "Come Effie! come with me to the mountain!"</p> + +<p>Effie jumped out of bed and opened the window. The storm was over and +the stars were shining brightly, while in the East was a patch of grey +light, that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> showed the sun would rise before a great while. "Hurry! +hurry!" said a voice near her, but she could not see anything. "Where +are you?" said she. "Here," said the voice over her head. She looked up +and there was a very indistinct white figure, that looked as if it might +be a shadow. All she could see was something white like a robe, and two +arms stretching out toward her; one of the hands came close to her; she +caught hold of it, and in a moment was drawn up to the figure and +wrapped in the white robe. Then a wind, blowing from the sea, bore them +along and they flew off toward the mountains.</p> + +<p>Now the mountains were a great way from the seashore, and Effie had +never been there. She could see their tops from the house where she +lived, and once in a while, somebody would come who had been there, and +he would tell her about the trees and the brooks and the birds. Now she +was to go there herself! She was held closely in the folds of the robe, +only she could look out as she went and see the ground over which they +were flying but they went so swiftly that she did not dare look down, so +she looked up to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> the sky. The stars were growing fainter, and the long +grey streak of dawn was growing brighter. They were nearing the +mountain, too, and Effie could hear, once in a while, the tinkling of +the brook as it rippled along below. At last they were close to the top +of the mountain. There was a wide plain upon the top, covered with +trees, while the springs of the brooks bubbled up there and flowed down +the sides, and on the ground were flowers nestled among the leaves and +the blades of grass.</p> + +<p>"Look! and listen!" said the voice of the Figure that carried Effie, at +the same time wheeling about, so that they faced the East. Effie looked. +The stars were all gone now, save one in the distance—the morning-star. +Everywhere overhead the sky was blue and clear—not a cloud to be seen; +while away off before them in the East, the sky was tinged with deep, +rich colours. Perfect quiet was everywhere. The wind was still; +motionless the trees stood; on their boughs the birds sat, hardly +rustling their feathers. She could just hear the tinkling of the brook. +The flowers on the ground had their leaves folded,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> and near by a great +eagle stood perched on a rock. The Figure holding Effie moved not at +all, only as Effie sat breathless looking down to the ground, its hand +pointed to the East and Effie again looked up there.</p> + +<p>The sky was a fiery colour now, and far up toward the zenith, the +crimson light shot its feathery rays; just above the horizon came a bit +of gold; then higher it rose, till like a golden ball leaving the earth, +it floated calmly up, up, soaring to heaven. The sun had risen! and the +instant it lifted itself above the line, the voice of the figure said: +"Listen!" and Effie listened. First she heard a low murmuring, and she +saw the tops of the trees swaying back and forth, lifting their branches +and bending them again toward the East; and as they murmured, the brooks +struck in with their sparkling notes, and the trees and the brooks sang +together; then the little birds on the branches opened their mouths, and +their throats swelled, and out burst their pure sweet notes, chiming +with the music of the trees and the brooks. Then the great, deep-mouthed +wind came, first trembling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> and quavering, then with rich full breath, +and the trees and the brooks, the birds and the wind, all sang the same +glad song. The flowers opened their leaves and lifted their heads, the +bright colours sparkling and shining; from the bushes sprang, +fluttering, the gay butterflies and insects, and the large eagle spread +its wings and sailed majestically in great circles toward the sun. Oh! +it was a wonderful sight, and it was a wonderful song they sang! The +whole mountain seemed to sing as the great golden sun rose higher and +higher.</p> + +<p>Only Effie was silent. Then the Figure wrapped her closer, and turning, +flew back toward the seashore. "What was the song they sang?" asked +Effie. "I could not tell the words." "You could not tell the words," +said the voice of the Figure, "because you did not sing with them. If +you had sung with them, you would have heard the words. I can only tell +you a little of it, but if you sing these words, the rest will some time +come to you. They all sang at the first<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>—</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Praise to Thee! Praise to Thee!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thou art all Purity.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thou art the Source of Light—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Scatter Thou the dark night.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shine on us! shine on us!"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Effie said the words over, and the voice said again "If you sing them +with the song of the sea-maidens you will understand them better." Then +Effie fell asleep, just as they came again to the open window and she +knew nothing more till she was waked by her mother calling out—</p> + +<p>"Effie, child! wake up! the sun was up long ago! come! come!"</p> + +<p>Effie started up. It was broad daylight. Her father was out-doors, +looking after his nets, and her mother was getting the table ready for +breakfast. She dressed herself quickly, saying over in mind the words +just taught her. Then she recollected that she could understand them +better if she sang the song of the sea. So she said that to herself +also.</p> + +<p>"Do you go and get some water to put in the kettle, Effie," said her +mother.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, mother," said she, and as she went she sang to herself—</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Work, hands! Love, heart!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Every one here has his part."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, little one," said her father, meeting her in the +door-way; "here's a bright day for your new year!"</p> + +<p>"Isn't it!" said Effie, giving him a kiss and then singing—</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Praise to thee! Praise to thee;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thou art all Purity.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thou art the Source of Light."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"I believe the child's going to be a good girl, wife," said Father +Gilder, coming into the house.</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope she is, for she's been sulky enough before this," said +Mother Gilder.</p> + +<p>"True, true," replied he, "but sulky birds don't sing."</p> + +<p>The year went slowly by. Effie sang the two songs as she worked, and +helped her mother and was a com<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>fort to her father. Every morning when +she got up, she sang the Song of the Mountain, and through the day she +kept singing, too, the Song of the Sea. Very often she thought of the +old man, and wondered what she should ask for the third and last time he +came. She thought she ought to ask for the best thing she could think +of, but for a long time she could not make up her mind, until a few days +before her birth-day, as she was singing the two songs. Then was she +impatient for the day to come, that she might ask her last and great +wish.</p> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Wish_the_Third_In_the_Cottage" id="Wish_the_Third_In_the_Cottage"></a>Wish the Third.—In the Cottage.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 319px;"> +<img src="images/illus-049.jpg" width="319" height="400" style="margin-top: -2em;" alt="" title="T" /> +</div> + +<p style="margin-top: 6.5em;">HE eighth birth-day came at last, but before the sun was to set, Mrs. +Gilder called her. "Here, Effie," said she, "I want you to go down cellar +before it is dark, and sweep it clean. It's dreadfully dirty."</p> + +<p>"Must I go now, mother?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, right off; it'll be too dark if you don't make haste," and Mrs. +Gilder drew a bunch of keys out of one of her apron pockets and unlocked +the closet door and brought out a broom for Effie. Effie took the broom +and went down cellar. "Well," thought she, "I must do my work at any +rate, and the old man may not come by till I get it done." So she set to +work,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> sweeping out the cellar. She had just finished and stooped to +pick up a perverse chip. As she lifted herself up, there stood that same +old man again!</p> + +<p>"Why! how <i>did</i> you get in, sir?" said she.</p> + +<p>"The sun is most down, Effie," said he without answering her question, +"what is your Last Wish?" As he said it his head shook harder than ever +before, and he leaned on his cane so that he was almost bent double.</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir! I wish," said Effie, "that I might do some great work that +should make others happy, and that I might be able to sing the whole of +the Song of the Mountain." As she said this the old man raised his head +slowly from his staff, and when she finished, lo! he was changed into a +great beam of light that cast its rays all about the cellar. Effie flew +up stairs with her broom, and ran to the cottage door. The sea was +sparkling with light, and the sun went down clear and beautiful.</p> + +<p>"Aye! there's a sunset for you, chicky," said Father Gilder, coming up +from the shore. "There'll be no storm after that! Do you remember your +last birth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> day, little one, when there was such a sudden storm came +up?" Yes, indeed, Effie remembered it and wondered whether the sky would +always be clear now.</p> + +<p>The next day Effie looked for somebody to come and give her some great +thing to do, and teach her the Song of the Mountain, as she had wished +for her last wish. But no one came—no, nor the next day, nor the day +after; and then every thing went wrong. Her mother became sick and +cross, and finally died; and Effie had to wear the wonderful apron with +so many pockets, and work hard every day. How could she do any great +work? All she could do was to take care of the house and do little +things—ever so many of them there were, too, so that when the evening +came she was quite tired out. But her father said she was a comfort to +him, and he loved to have her sit by him and sing to him. She sang the +two songs over and over, as she did every day at her work, and never +tired of singing them, nor did he tire of hearing them.</p> + +<p>So she lived on. She had a great many more birthdays,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> but no old man +came to see her, and nobody came to give her a great work to do, or to +teach her the rest of the song. By and by her father died too, but Effie +lived still in the little red cottage by the sea-shore. And if any were +sick or in trouble, they were sure to come to her. For every body loved +her, and wherever she went she seemed to carry the sunlight with her, +and to make everybody better and happier. Still no one came, though +every birth-day she sat at the door, looking for the old man.</p> + +<p>But he did come at last. It was her birth-day. She was an old woman, but +she sat in the door-way as she used to, watching for somebody to come to +her with a great work to do, and the rest of the song. She sat in her +great arm-chair, and her eyes were very dim so that she could not see +very well, and her ears were very dull, so that she could hardly hear at +all. There was the sun that had so often gone down without any one's +appearing. But before it touched the water she heard a voice—that old +sweet voice that she had never forgotten, saying, "Effie!" She looked, +and there she saw the same face that the old man used<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> to have, but that +was all she could see. Then it said again, "Effie!" and she said:</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir! have you come at last to give me my wish? I have looked for +you year after year, and now I am an old woman, and have not many more +days to live."</p> + +<p>"Your wish has been granted, Effie. You asked for some great work to do +to make others happy. All your life since you have been doing the great +work. There is nothing right or holy done for others that is not great. +The little daily duties that you did so faithfully; the little +kindnesses you showed to others; the little pleasant words you +spoke—these are all great things."</p> + +<p>"But the Song of the Mountain?" asked Effie.</p> + +<p>"Dear child," said he, "you have sung the song all your life. If you +have thanked God for his goodness to you—if you have loved him for his +love to you—if you have prayed to him to make you good and holy—you +have sung the Song of the Mountain."</p> + +<p>"Praise to thee! Praise to thee!" murmured the old woman. Then she +thought she heard the whole<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> mountain singing as it did the morning she +listened to it; and the great song was sung, and she sang also, and the +voice beside her sang.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>——The people who lived about there say, that when they came in the +morning to see Old Effie, she was sitting in her arm-chair, with her +hands folded, and her lips half parted as if she had sung herself to +sleep; and when they touched her she did not move—for Old Effie was +dead.</p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/illus-054.jpg" width="550" height="365" alt="" title="chapter endpiece" /> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h2><br /><br /><a name="A_Christmas_Stocking" id="A_Christmas_Stocking"></a>A Christmas Stocking</h2> + +<h2>With a Hole in it</h2> + +<h2>BEN'S STORY<br /><br /></h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span><br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I.</h2> + +<h2>The Stocking is Hung.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 253px;"> +<img src="images/illus-057.jpg" width="253" height="400" style="margin-top: -2em;" alt="" title="A" /> +</div> + +<p style="margin-top: 2em;">T Christmas-tide in New York, the people who live in the upper part of +the city cannot hear the chimes that ring from Trinity steeple; but in +the dwelling streets which run in and out among the warehouse streets, +and in the courts which stand stock still and refuse to go a step +further,—there the Trinity music is heard and the "merry Christmas" of +the bells is flung out to all however poor. Beside<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> Trinity there are +but few chimes of bells in the city, neither do poor children there sing +Christmas carols in the streets and thus unlatch the doors of even +crabbed hearts.</p> + +<p>But the merriest chimes of bells are played and the sweetest carols sung +even in New York. For when at Christmas one walks in the crowded streets +he may hear on all sides the merry Christmas! merry Christmas to you! to +you! rung out on every key and the chiming makes perfect music; the poor +children sing carols too, for are they not each little songs as they +stand in their rags before well-to-do folk—songs without +words—reminding us of the poor child Jesus and the blessings which He +brought? Yes, the bells ring in our hearts and we hear carols then at +least if not at other times; and in some old cobwebbed heart does +Christmas fancy or Christmas memory enter and ring disused bells that +sound but a hoarse blessing, so rusty has their metal become, but a +blessing at least well-meant. Blessed be Christmas that it knocks so at +the door of our hearts.</p> + +<p>Now it was on a certain Christmas that some very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> pleasant chimes were +rung, and that too within hearing of Trinity bells. In the street on +Christmas eve were Bundles of great coats and furs tied together with +tippets, who hurried along like locomotives, puffing and snorting and +leaving behind a line of smoke. But all the people in the streets were +not Bundles, by any means. Some scarcely had any wrappings, let alone +such heavy coverings as great coats and furs. Little boys may be Bundles +if they are properly wrapped up and tied with a tippet or scarf, but not +all little boys are Bundles. On this eve one might see many who were +not. They kept their hands in their pockets or breathed upon their red +fingers, and drew their shoulders together and screwed their faces as if +they were trying to hide behind themselves, while the wind blew through +every crevice of their bodies and rattled the teeth in their mouths.</p> + +<p>One of these little boys upon this very Christmas eve hung up his +stocking, and what became of it is now to be told. His name was Peter +Mit. He had been out all day selling cigars, and was on his way home to +supper. But hungry and cold as he was, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> could not help stopping to +look through the shop-windows at the beautiful things spread out so +temptingly behind them. Such toys and games and picture books! "Now," +said he, "I must run;" but just as he started, he came to a window so +much finer than any he had seen that he stopped before this also. There +was a string fastened across the inside of the window with picture and +story papers hung upon it; the glass was not very clear, for the frost +made it almost like crown-glass, but it was clear enough in the corner +to shew one of the pictures, which was a double one; in one part there +was a little boy in his night-gown hanging a stocking upon the door of +his bed-chamber; in the other part the little boy is shown snugly asleep +in his bed, while a most odd little man hung over with toys and picture +books of all kinds stands on tip-toe before the stocking, filling it +with playthings. There was some printing underneath that explained the +picture; as well as Peter could make out, this little boy like a great +many others hung up his stocking before he went to bed on Christmas eve, +and some time during the night, Santa Klaus, a queer old man, very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> fond +of little folk, came down the chimney and filled the stocking with +presents. This was all new to little Peter, and astonished him +exceedingly; but it was really too cold to stand there looking at even +the most wonderful picture, so he blew into his red fist, and ran off +home, taking long slides on the ice wherever he could.</p> + +<p>He left the bright Main Street and turning one or two corners came to +Fountain Court. That is a fine-sounding name, but the houses are very +wretched and low, though quite grand people lived there in olden times; +where the fountain was no one could say, unless the wheezy pump that +stands at the head of the court were meant for it; of this the Pump +itself had no doubt. It was very large and had a long heavy handle that +always stood out stiffly; there was a knob on the top of the pump that +had once been gilded but that was a long time ago, when the Pump was +aristocratic and presumed itself to be a Fountain. It was dingy and +broken now, but the Pump was none the less proud and dignified; it took +pleasure in holding out its handle stiffly and never letting it down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +though people stumbled against it every day. "It had been there the +longest," the Pump said, "it had a right to the way; people must learn +to turn out for it."</p> + +<p>It was down this Fountain Court—though people now generally called it +Pump Court—that little Peter Mit ran as fast as his legs could carry +him. He stopped at the fourth house on the right-hand side; it was a low +building, only a story and a half high, yet a respectable merchant had +lived there formerly. Before the door stood a battered wooden image of a +savage Indian, holding out a bunch of cigars in his hand, and looking as +if he meant to tomahawk you if you didn't take one. The Indian was quite +stuck over with snow-balls, for he was a fine mark for the boys in the +court, who divided their attention between his head and the knob on top +of the Pump. If it were not so dark, one might spell out on the dingy +sign over the door, the names "<span class="smcap">Morgridge and Mit Dealers in Tobacco</span>." +The only window was adorned with half a dozen boxes of cigars, a few +pipes, a bottle of snuff, and a melancholy plaister sailor, who had been +smoking one pipe, with his hands in his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> pockets, as long as the oldest +inhabitant in the court could remember.</p> + +<p>Peter Mit opened the door from the street and entered the shop; one +solitary oil lamp stood upon the counter, behind which sat David +Morgridge, the surviving partner of the firm of Morgridge and Mit +Dealers in Tobacco. Solomon Mit, the uncle of little Peter had been dead +five years, and on dying had bequeathed his orphan-nephew to his +partner, and so as Mr. Morgridge had no children, and Peter had no +father, the two lived together alone in the old house.</p> + +<p>Mr. Morgridge was not a talkative man—one would see that at a glance; +his mouth looked as if it shut with a spring. Mr. Mit, when living had +been even more silent, but when he did speak—then one would look for +golden words; for so small a man he was surely very wise. Mr. Morgridge +used to say that it was because his name was Solomon, and that was the +only thing Mr. Morgridge had ever said that came near being witty. All +the court knew it, and the saying almost turned the corner at the head +of the court. They divided the business between them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> Mr. Morgridge +attending to the snuff department, Mr. Mit to the cigar and pipe branch. +It was the intention of Mr. Mit, expressed soon after the adoption of +little Peter, to bring him up to take charge of the chewing tobacco +branch. In consequence of this division of the business, David Morgridge +took snuff incessantly, but never smoked. Solomon Mit smoked all the +while but never took snuff. They did this to recommend their wares. +Besides, it served to explain the duty of each partner. If a customer +came in for pipes or cigars he invariably went directly to Mr. Mit; if +he came for snuff, he as surely turned to Mr. Morgridge.</p> + +<p>When Peter entered the shop, Mr. Morgridge was just wiping his face +after a pinch of snuff; the whole air of the shop was snuffy, and no one +came in without instantly being tempted to sneeze. Peter sneezed as a +matter of course, and Mr. Morgridge, after his usual fashion, replied +with a "God bless you!" He seldom got the compliment in return, however, +as in his case the blessing would have become so common as to be quite +worthless. Mr. Morgridge then in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>quired into Peter's sales, and with +that his regular conversation ended. His mouth shut so closely, with the +corners turned down to cover any possible opening, that one would know +immediately that no accidental words could escape. But to-night Peter +did not mean to let his guardian keep his usual silence; he was too much +concerned about the picture he had seen in the shop-window. He waited +however till after tea. Then, as they returned to the shop, Mr. +Morgridge taking his customary seat upon his bench, with a pot of snuff +beside him, set about his work of putting up tobacco in divers shapes. +Peter took his customary seat also, much above Mr. Morgridge. It was a +seat which he had inherited from his uncle. Solomon Mit, being a +contemplative man, was desirous of being lifted above ordinary things +when he pursued his meditations, and had accordingly built a sort of +watch-tower out of several boxes, placed one upon another, and topped by +an arm-chair, deprived of its legs. Into this chair Solomon used to +climb, and when there, his head was not far from the ceiling. Here he +would sit in his lofty station, and wrapped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> in the smoke from his own +pipe, would revolve in his mind various questions, occasionally dropping +from the clouds a remark to his partner, who sat snuffing below on the +bench. Customers, when they entered the shop, had become used to the +sight of the little man's legs as they appeared below the cloud, and a +classical scholar chancing in one day to fill his pipe, had likened him +to Zeus upon the top of Olympus.</p> + +<p>Peter valued this watch-tower above all his possessions, and here every +night he sat perched, and counted the fly-specks on the ceiling, or +fished up things from the floor by means of a hook and line which he +kept by him. To-night, however, after he had climbed into the chair, he +broke the usual silence by putting the following question to Mr. +Morgridge:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Morgridge, is this Christmas Eve?" to which David Morgridge, after +taking a pinch of snuff cautiously replied:</p> + +<p>"It may be;" and then added, as if to explain his uncertainty of +mind—"I don't keep the run o' Christmas."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 365px;"> +<img src="images/illus-066.jpg" width="365" height="550" alt=""Mr. Morgridge, is this Christmas Eve?"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"Mr. Morgridge, is this Christmas Eve?"</span> +</div> + +<p>"Does Santa Klaus really come down a chimney<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> Christmas night and fill +the stocking with presents?" proceeded Peter. And then, getting no +answer, he gave an account of what he had seen in the window, and being +very much interested, he told also what he thought of it all, and the +resolution that he had finally come to, namely, to hang up his own +stocking that very night. Mr. Morgridge having listened to what Peter +had to say, took more snuff and seemed disposed to let that end the +matter, but Peter persisted in getting his opinion.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Morgridge," said he, "do you think Santa Klaus will come and fill +my stocking?" Being pressed for an answer, Mr. Morgridge made shift to +say—</p> + +<p>"May be, but should say not; used to believe in Santa Klaus when I was a +boy; don't now; 'taint no use."</p> + +<p>This was rather discouraging, but Peter upon thinking it over on his +watch-tower, reflected that Mr. Morgridge used to believe in Santa +Klaus, and that the queer fellow only visited boys: besides, he thought +it might be owing to the snuff that he disbelieved in him now; for it +was by that Peter usually explained Mr. Morgridge's eccentricities.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> + +<p>But Peter was tired and drowsy, and clambering down from his perch, set +out for his bed, groping his way up the steep staircase that led to the +half-story above, where he had his cot. He never went up that staircase +in the dark—and a light was a luxury not to be thought of—without +imagining all manner of horrors which he might see at the top. In one +place, there were two small holes in the floor close together; the place +was over the shop, and whenever there was a light burning below, he +could see these two holes blinking and shining like two eyes. It was the +last thing he saw when he got into bed, and he would say to himself in a +bold way, as if to show any ghosts or goblins that might possibly be +about, how undaunted he was, "Two Eyes! come here and swallow me up!" +and then he would draw the bed-clothes over his head for a minute or +two, and peep out to reassure himself that Two Eyes had not taken him at +his word and come to swallow him up. But Two Eyes never came, and this +gave him fresh courage, so that of late he had become quite bold in the +dark.</p> + +<p>As he climbed up the staircase this night, his little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> head was full of +the idea of Santa Klaus. The chimney was convenient, he thought to +himself, for it passed through the loft and there was a large open +fire-place in it never used. But then, suppose he should come down +before the fire in the room below was fairly out! he would get scorched. +But it was too cold to sit long guessing about such matters, so he +undressed himself quickly. Last of all, he drew off his right stocking. +This he held in his hand—"Oh!" said he, "it has got a hole in it; the +things will all come out!" Indeed, it was almost all hole, for beside +the proper hole which every stocking has or it isn't a stocking, there +was a hole in the heel and another very large one in the toes. He looked +at it in despair, and then took up the other one; but that was even +worse. He consoled himself, finally, as well as he could, by the +reflection that Santa Klaus would probably put all the large things in +first, and thus they would stop the holes up and nothing would be lost.</p> + +<p>He cast about now for a place to hang it. The little boy in the picture +hung his on the door, but that was out of the question, for there was no +nail there.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> He remembered finally a hook in the wall not far from the +chimney. It was a dreadful place to go to, so near Two Eyes! but he +mustered courage, especially when he considered how very convenient it +would be for Santa Klaus. His heart went pit-a-pat as he stole over the +floor; the boards under his feet creaked and every bone in his body +seemed to be going off like a firecracker. It seemed to him as if Two +Eyes and all his friends were starting from every corner of the room.</p> + +<p>Going back was not so bad as all the ghosts were now behind him. He +shivered into his cold bed, and drew his knees up to his chin. So +excited was he about Santa Klaus, that when he looked presently toward +the other end of the room and saw Two Eyes blinking at him, he forgot +for the instant that he had ever seen them before, and fancied Santa +Klaus must have made his appearance already. He was just ready to +scream, when he recollected what the Eyes were, and boldly saying:—</p> + +<p>"Two Eyes! come here and swallow me up!" he rolled himself up in the bed +clothes and was soon fast asleep.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II.</h2> + +<h2>Midnight.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 251px;"> +<img src="images/illus-071.jpg" width="251" height="400" style="margin-top: -2em;" alt="" title="T" /> +</div> + +<p style="margin-top: 3.5em;">HE clock of Trinity struck twelve. One would have thought from the long +pause after each stroke, that it had great difficulty in making out the +complete number. Really it was so long about it because it wished to +give plenty of time for starting to the various persons and things in +the neighborhood, who are wont to be agog at that hour only. The Man on +St. Paul's, however, was so long getting ready that the twelfth stroke +came before he was fairly off,—so he lost his chance for this time. It +is so with him every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> night. When the first stroke comes it startles him +and he rubs his eyes and wonders where he is; he continues to rub his +eyes and wonder till the sixth stroke has sounded. Then he collects his +thoughts a little, and by the ninth stroke remembers that if he is quick +enough, he can shut up his book, get down from his high and +uncomfortable perch, and stretch his legs a little in a ramble through +the church-yard or round the Park. Having to be in a hurry, for it must +be done during the three following strokes, he gets confused, and before +he can muster sufficient presence of mind, the clock has struck twelve, +and he must wait another day.</p> + +<p>The Grocer on the City Hall was in a difficult predicament. It has long +been his intention to get down with his scales and weigh the City +Corporation. He tries to do it when the clock strikes twelve, as that is +his only chance. He heard the first stroke, and was on the alert. He +indeed succeeded in reaching the ground, but he could not find the +Corporation, though he searched the Hall and the Park. All that he could +discover was a sleepy alderman. He returned to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> his place in disgust. He +could not see, for his part, why the Corporation did not sit in the +night-time; it would seem to be the proper hour. This he said to the +Eagle perched on a pole near by, and who had just returned from a visit +to his grand-uncle who has been all his life on the point of dropping an +umbrella, point downward, on the greatest rogue in the city. The Eagle +found his grand-uncle had not yet dropped the umbrella, because he was +not sure that he had found the greatest rogue.</p> + +<p>But other people and things are not so stupid as the Man on St. Paul's, +nor so unsuccessful as the Grocer. They are brisker and seize the +opportunity to enjoy themselves. The Pump, for instance, that stands at +the head of Fountain Court, generally indulges himself in a soliloquy. +He talks through his nose, to be sure, which sounds disagreeably, but +the nearest listeners do not mind it. For the Man on St. Paul's is too +stupid or it may be asleep. The Grocer is running round with his scales, +looking for the Corporation. Sir Walter Raleigh has taken so much snuff +that his own voice is even more disagreeable, and so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> he has no right to +complain. The nearest listener of all would be the Indian in front of +Morgridge and Mit, dealers in tobacco, but he has gone to have a talk +with Sir Walter Raleigh; so the Pump has it all its own way. Let us hear +what the Pump said this night:—</p> + +<p>"Well, so it's Christmas again, is it? how the years do go by! and how +things change! To think of the difference between this court now and +what it used to be! Why, I can remember very well when fine ladies and +gentlemen gathered here on Christmas eve. The watchman would go along +with them with a lantern in his hand. I was of importance then—I am +now, to be sure, but then people recognized me and considered me. I gave +the name to the court—that was something! But those days went by; and +then there was that time when a noisy fellow got up on my head, where he +kept his place with difficulty, and spouted ever so much eloquence about +rights and liberty and constitution. No good ever came of that! for it +was he who broke off a piece of the gilt knob on my head, and it has +never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> been mended since. That was the beginning of my troubles, and now +to what a pass have things come. Why, a ragged, drunken man leaned up +against me—ugh! this very night, and I see the poorest kind of people +go down the court. I was used to have nothing but fine pitchers and +pails brought to me to fill, but now I have to look into dirty broken +pitchers and old tubs. They have even begun to call the place Pump +Court, as if I were no better than a common every-day pump! What is +worst, there is an upstart just the other side of the way,—it lets out +water to be sure, but it has nothing to say about it; it has no handle, +and the water comes out by just turning a screw; altogether it is a very +plebeian thing; it can know nothing of the pleasure of feeling a box go +rumbling down your inside, and fetching up water from the depths of the +earth.</p> + +<p>"There go the Christmas bells! Many a time I've heard them before and +seen Santa Klaus hurrying along to visit every house in the court. He +never goes near them now, and no wonder, for he can't care to associate +with such low people. When he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> does come, he looks soberer, and not so +jolly as he used to; nor does he bring so many and such fine things. I +am in fact the only respectable thing in the neighborhood. But bless my +boxes! what a shock that was! somebody must have struck my handle; +served him right; he ought to turn out. I've been here the longest."</p> + +<p>It was the sleepy alderman who was hastening by. "Confound that +pump-handle!" said he. "That's the second time to-day I've stumbled +against it. I'll have the pump taken up and carted off to-morrow. It's a +nuisance; nobody wants it here."</p> + +<p>It was difficult to make out what the Pump said to this; it was so +choked with rage at the indignity, that only a confused gurgling could +be distinguished in its throat. But that was the end of its soliloquy.</p> + +<p>The Pump was partly right. Santa Klaus did not visit the court as often +as he used, nor did he bring such fine presents with him. But it was not +because he disliked the society that he did not come, it was because +they did not hang stockings up. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> stocking must be hung or he will +not go—that is the rule. He is wonderfully keen in scent; he will go +straight to a stocking even if it be hidden in the darkest corner. He +cares nothing about time or place either. He can be where he chooses at +any moment. So, just as the twelfth stroke of Trinity sounded, Santa +Klaus was in Fountain Court. The Indian was scurrying down the place +with his cigars in his hand, and taking his stand before Morgridge and +Mit, put on his face its fiercest expression as the sound of the stroke +died away. At the same moment Santa Klaus was in the house, in the loft +where little Peter Mit had hung his stocking. Whether he entered by the +chimney or not, it is impossible to say, but I suspect he did, for the +door was locked and there was no other entrance.</p> + +<p>At any rate there he was, and standing on tip-toe by Peter's stocking. +He began to fill it and emptied one of his pockets. "Really," said he, +"this is a very capacious stocking." It was not full yet, and he emptied +into it another pocketful. "This is remarkable!" said he, stopping in +amazement, "it is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> as roomy as a meal-bag. What an extraordinary foot +that little boy must have!"</p> + +<p>Santa Klaus' clothes are all pocket pretty much, and he emptied the +contents of a third into the stocking, which was still not full. Then he +stopped to examine it. "Oh! oh!" said he, "this is very bad! there is a +hole in the stocking!" It would never do to keep pouring things in at +one end while they passed out at the other, and his presents could only +be placed in stockings. So Santa Klaus sorrowfully gathered up the +presents, and leaving the stocking as empty as he found it, was off in a +twinkling.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III.</h2> + +<h2>Kleiner Traum visits Peter Mit.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 194px;"> +<img src="images/illus-079.jpg" width="194" height="400" style="margin-top: -2em;" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p style="margin-top: 2em;">HE moment Santa Klaus whisked out of the room, Kleiner Traum whisked +in. It is impossible to say how he got into the room either; it is +enough that he was there. Kleiner Traum is a very remarkable personage. +He is like Santa Klaus in this, that he moves very quickly and can make +visits in one night all over the world. But more than that, he has the +power of making people see just what he chooses. Some persons think that +they have seen two Kleiner Traums, a good and a bad, but the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> fault is +in their eyes. He carries a kaleidoscope with him and shakes it before +people; just how he shakes it, so are the things they see. These things +are very apt to be like what has happened to them at different times, +only much more grotesque.</p> + +<p>Kleiner Traum had come to make Peter Mit a visit, and show him his +kaleidoscope. Little Peter was fast asleep—that is the only time when +Kleiner Traum visits people,—and snugly curled up in bed. He was not +thinking or dreaming about anything, when now Kleiner Traum held the +kaleidoscope before him, and gave it a twist. What now did he see?</p> + +<p>He saw an exceedingly queer-looking man squeeze out of the fire-place; +he was hung over with toys, and his pockets bulged out with the things +inside; in fact, he was quite the image of the little man he had seen in +the picture in the shop-window, and Peter made up his mind instantly +that it was Santa Klaus. As soon as he got on his legs in the middle of +the room, Two Eyes, whom Peter had so often called upon to swallow him +up, began moving about, apparently trying to mislead Santa Klaus. Peter +was ready to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> scream out, but for the life of him he couldn't make a +sound. He watched Two Eyes, who seemed to think he would draw Santa +Klaus to the head of the staircase, and then dance about so as to make +him tumble headlong down the steps. But Santa Klaus was too knowing for +Two Eyes. Peter saw him go to the door as if expecting to find the +stocking there, and then not finding it, turn about and walk around the +room till he came to where it hung upon the hook.</p> + +<p>Peter was now terribly excited, and Kleiner Traum gave the kaleidoscope +another twist. During the process of twisting, Peter's mind was in a +queer jumble, and he thought he saw Two Eyes peeping out of the +stocking, and Santa Klaus sitting on the Pump at the head of the court; +but as soon as the kaleidoscope was still, it was clear again, and he +could see Santa Klaus standing on tip-toe before the stocking and +emptying into it the contents of his pockets.</p> + +<p>The first thing he took out was a tin trumpet; just such a one as Peter +had himself seen in a shop-window the day before. This he put into the +stocking, giving a chuckle and trying it to see if it were good; it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +sounded splendidly. Then came a sled. It was astonishing how it ever +came out of Santa Klaus' pocket and still more astonishing how it could +get into the stocking. Yet surely Peter saw it enter, and that very +easily. After the sled came a monkey-jack. Before he put it in Santa +Klaus twitched the monkey, and made it turn summersaults over the stick, +till he was nearly ready to fall down with laughing at it. A mask came +next—a leering mask with a long nose, and eyes, frightful enough to +scare all the people in the court. Then followed a warm muffler for the +head; it was a very comfortable looking thing. No sooner was the muffler +safely in than a pint of peanuts rolled into the stocking, and after the +peanuts came some marbles, and after the marbles, a dozen red apples, +and after the apples a pair of skates, and after the skates a bundle of +candy.</p> + +<p>It certainly was astonishing to see how much the stocking would hold. +Peter could hardly believe his eyes, yet there it was, and he saw +everything that went into it. But the candy was the last thing; the +stocking was now full and the candy peeped out at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> top. Peter saw +Santa Klaus look approvingly at the stocking, give it a pat and +disappear through the fire-place again, looking just as full of presents +as when he came down.</p> + +<p>At this point Kleiner Traum turned the kaleidoscope, and Peter was all +in a jumble again. Apparently the stocking was going up the chimney and +Santa Klaus was riding on the toe, while Two Eyes was coming toward +Peter to swallow him up. Peter was just on the point of giving himself +up for lost, expecting the next moment to be swallowed up by Two Eyes, +when it was clear again, and Two Eyes was in his old place, and the +stocking was hanging on its hook; only Santa Klaus had disappeared up +the chimney. For you see, Kleiner Traum's kaleidoscope was quiet again.</p> + +<p>Now what did Peter see? The stocking was swollen to an enormous bulk, +and what was more, Peter could see everything that was going on inside. +He saw that they were quarrelling about the places they should occupy; +for in the heel and in the toe of the stocking, were the two holes which +were now of an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> alarming size. The Sled commenced the trouble. It felt +itself slowly but surely slipping toward the hole in the toe, with the +weight of all the other things on him. "Don't crowd so!" Peter heard the +Sled say to the Tin Trumpet.</p> + +<p>"I'm not pushing," said the Tin Trumpet; "I'd give anything if I weren't +sliding so toward that dreadful hole!" "Monkey-Jack, I'll thank you to +keep that stick of yours out of my mouth." Just then, an apple losing +its footing, dropped through the hole in the heel of the stocking, and +Peter heard it go rolling over the floor; another quickly followed, and +another.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said the Mask, "this is getting dangerous; there is a dreadful +cavity under me; but I'll put a bold face on it. There goes another +apple." Peter heard apple follow apple out of the hole in the heel, till +the whole dozen were on the floor, where they still went rolling off +after each other toward the staircase when they hopped thumpty-thump +down the steps, till the last one had gone. Meanwhile the Sled, the Tin +Trumpet and the Monkey-Jack were having a sad time<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> in the foot of the +stocking. "I cannot hold on much longer," said the Sled, and it had +hardly spoken the words, before it slid out through the toe, and Peter +heard it go sliding over the floor and follow the apples down the +staircase.</p> + +<p>Matters were no better, but rather worse in the leg of the stocking. A +weak voice was heard in the corner. It was a Peanut complaining bitterly +of the Marbles. "If ye had not come in here among us," it said, "we +should have done very well, but now ye are pushing us all toward the +hole." The Marbles could not reply, they were too frightened themselves; +they had crowded in among the Peanuts for safety, and now there was +danger of both going. One large Marble alone held them all back; it was +wedged in by the Monkey-Jack, and the Monkey-Jack had its stick in the +Tin Trumpet's mouth. But the Tin Trumpet had only caught by a single +thread of the stocking; that gave way, and down came the Trumpet +followed by the Monkey-Jack. The Trumpet rolled off toward the door like +the rest, and the Monkey-Jack went head-over-heels after it. Of course +the large<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> Marble had no help for it now; he dropped out of the heel, +and the rest of the Marbles came tumbling after with the Peanuts in the +midst of them. The Marbles and Peanuts, unlike the rest, rolled off +toward Two Eyes; the Marbles disappeared through one eye, the Peanuts +through the other.</p> + +<p>It seemed of no avail now for the rest to keep their place. "It is no +use to keep up appearances longer," said the Mask, and he dropped out +and walked off on his nose. The Skates who had not spoken before, now +turned to the Muffler and said: "We shall cut a pretty figure going +through the hole like the rest, we may not go after all; there's many a +slip—" but before they had finished the sentence they had followed the +rest, and were striking out for the door.</p> + +<p>Nothing now remained but the Muffler and the Candy. The Muffler spoke in +a thick voice, "I am a sort of relation to the stocking and intend to +remain by it, if it is a poor relation. It won't turn me out of doors, +surely." The Candy, replied in a sweet voice, "As for me, I shall stick +to the stocking. My dear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> Muffler, you quite melt me, you are so warm +and affectionate."</p> + +<p>After this point, Peter could see or hear nothing further, and for a +very good reason—Kleiner Traum had vanished with his kaleidoscope.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV.</h2> + +<h2>Kleiner Traum Visits David Morgridge.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 243px;"> +<img src="images/illus-088.jpg" width="243" height="400" style="margin-top: -2em;" alt="" title="I" /> +</div> + +<p style="margin-top: 3.5em;">T is no secret whither Kleiner Traum vanished. The moment he had left +little Peter Mit, he was sitting on David Morgridge's breast, +kaleidoscope in hand.</p> + +<p>One shake of the kaleidoscope. Really, Mr. Morgridge sees strange +things. He sees a little boy no bigger than Peter Mit, in a snug little +room, hanging up on the door a red and white plaid stocking. The +strangest thing is that he remembers the place and surroundings +perfectly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> He knows the cozy room, the white dimity curtains, the +little cot bed, the sixteen-paned window looking out on the church-spire +and the meadow; it was as if he had skipped sixty years of his life +backward, for the little boy was a diminutive David Morgridge.</p> + +<p>But the kaleidoscope makes quick shifts. Here is another turn, and Mr. +Morgridge, as if he were a picture on the wall, is looking at a room +which he knows well enough. It is the tobacco shop. There are two men in +it; one sits on the bench and takes snuff, and does up little paper +pellets; the other is just discoverable under a cloud of tobacco smoke, +perched upon the top of a small observatory. This, too, is Christmas +Eve, for so the little man on the watch-tower announces, as if he kept +the calendar of the seasons, and piped an "All's Well" to his comrade +below.</p> + +<p>"David," he says, "David Morgridge! This is Christmas Eve. 'On earth +peace, good will toward men.' That's what the Bible says, and that's +what Trinity chimes say. How many Christmases have we kept together? +eighteen, David; then that's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> eighteen turkeys for the poor folk, though +bless us we're not much richer." This is a long speech for Solomon Mit, +yet the man snuffing on the bench says nothing, but scowls. Then does +Solomon Mit clamber down from his watch-tower, and with his cheery, +piping voice sing a Christmas hymn, and though David Morgridge never +lends his voice, the little man is no whit disheartened, but ends with +laying his hand on David's shoulder and heartily wishing—"God bless +you, David Morgridge, old friend—God bless us all!" and climbs once +more to the top of his tower.</p> + +<p>Quickly turns the kaleidoscope again, and now Mr. Morgridge, like a +shadow in the dark that can see but not be seen, is in the room where he +is now sleeping. But he is not on the bed, he is standing by the side of +it, and the old cheery voice, though weaker now, of Solomon Mit comes +from the pillow. The little man has come down from his tower for the +last time, and has puffed his last pipeful of tobacco smoke. This, too, +is Christmas Eve, and Solomon Mit has not forgotten it. Listen, he is +speaking now.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> + +<p>"David Morgridge, old friend, twenty years we've lived together. You've +been a true friend to me. We haven't said much, but we've trusted each +other. I'm the first to go, and I'm glad to go on Christmas Eve. I'd +like to go when the bells are ringing and Trinity is chiming, 'Peace on +earth, good will toward men;' that's it David. Don't forget the turkeys; +twenty you know; and don't make 'em chickens. You haven't always liked +to give them, but you will now. And you'll be good to little Peter. I +bequeath him to you, David, to hold and to keep in trust; and all that's +mine in the shop; it's all yours. There are the bells—</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"'All glory be to God on high,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And to the Earth be peace'"—</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>But Solomon Mit has sung without finishing his last hymn.</p> + +<p>What more Mr. Morgridge might have seen, we shall never know, for at +this point Kleiner Traum and his kaleidoscope vanished, and did not come +back that night at any rate.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V.</h2> + +<h2>Morgridge Klaus.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 242px;"> +<img src="images/illus-092.jpg" width="242" height="400" style="margin-top: -2em;" alt="" title="W" /> +</div> + +<p style="margin-top: 3em;">HEN does Christmas Day begin? It can never be determined, but most +people think it begins when they wake, though all do not wake at once; +the children generally have the longest Christmas Day. Now, in Fountain +Court, almost before daylight, there was some one astir. He came out of +the door of Morgridge & Mit, dealers in tobacco, and toddled up the +court at an astonishing gait. Where<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> did he go to? he certainly passed +the pump and turned the corner, and in a quarter of an hour more was +trotting down the court with a parcel in his hand. The door of Morgridge +& Mit closes behind him, but not before we have seen his face. Verily, +it is Mr. Morgridge, but so extraordinarily like Santa Klaus is he, that +we are puzzled to know which of the two it is; the form and shoulders +are those of Mr. Morgridge, but the face at least is borrowed from Santa +Klaus; Mr. Morgridge never in his life looked so jolly. Not to confound +this person with the sour-faced man who sat glumpy, upon the bench +taking snuff, the night before, let us call him Morgridge Klaus.</p> + +<p>Morgridge Klaus stole slily up stairs to Peter Mit's loft. He went up +stairs because there was so much of the Morgridge about him; if there +had been more of the Klaus he would undoubtedly have come down the +chimney. At the top of the stairs, where it was still quite dark, he +could see Peter curled up in bed. But it was not he that he had come to +see. He began groping about on the floor in search of something. "Ah! +here it is!" he said with a chuck<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>le, bringing to light a stocking most +woefully riddled with holes. Morgridge Klaus stuffed a paper parcel into +the stocking, and laying it carefully on the floor, stumbled down +stairs, chuckling to himself and taking snuff immoderately.</p> + +<p>Mr. Morgridge's Christmas Day had in fact commenced, but it was an hour +yet before Peter Mit began his Christmas Day. The little fellow rubbed +his eyes and drew his knees nearer his chin when he awoke. Then he +remembered the day and looked eagerly toward the chimney. There hung his +stocking, as small, as full of holes, and as empty as when he hung it. +"So it was a dream only after all," he said sorrowfully. Still he went +over to it in hopes that the dream might have come true, and that the +candy and muffler had remained by the stocking, but they too were gone. +Peter shiveringly dressed himself. He had now only one stocking and a +shoe to put on. How heavy the stocking was! there was something in it! +Peter grew greatly excited—"Santa Klaus must have taken this stocking +after all!" said he. Yes, there was a bundle, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> paper stuck to +the inside. It was candy without a doubt; but where was the muffler? +Peter turned the stocking inside out, but the muffler had gone after the +rest of the things. The candy alone was faithful.</p> + +<p>Peter hastened down stairs. Mr. Morgridge was there getting breakfast +ready. Peter eagerly told him of his good fortune. What a chuckle did +the old fellow give! it was amazing to Peter. He had never before heard +Mr. Morgridge make such a noise. He had never seen his face so broken up +into smiles and grins. He could hardly believe it was Mr. Morgridge. Nor +was it—it was Morgridge Klaus.</p> + +<p>While breakfast was in preparation, Peter climbed up into his +watch-tower. Well done! there was a muffler in the chair! precisely like +the one which he had seen enter the stocking the night before. How could +it have found its way to his seat? As he was looking at it in +wonderment, there was another undoubted chuckle from Morgridge Klaus. +Peter was astonished beyond measure. Could Mr. Morgridge be Santa Klaus? +impossible! yet he began to believe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> it, for was it any harder of belief +than that it was Mr. Morgridge who then spoke in a voice that had in it +the cheeriness of Solomon Mit:—</p> + +<p>"Come down, little Peter! To-day is Christmas Day. We must hurry through +breakfast; for we've got twenty-five turkeys to carry to twenty-five +honest poor folk. It will go hard with us, but we'll make shift to buy +'em. God bless you Peter Mit!" and may the Indian in front of the door +tomahawk me if David Morgridge did not then and there, in his old, +wheezy, snuff-choked voice, sing—</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"All glory be to God on high,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And to the Earth be peace,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Good will, henceforth, from Heaven to men,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Begin and never cease!"</span><br /> +</p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/illus-096.jpg" width="550" height="369" alt="" title="chapter endpiece" /> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h2><br /><br /><a name="The_Little_Castaways" id="The_Little_Castaways"></a>The Little Castaways</h2> + +<h2>JULIA'S STORY.<br /><br /></h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span><br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h2>The Little Castaways.</h2> + + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 392px;"> + <img src="images/illus-099top.jpg" style="margin-bottom: 1.5em;" alt="The Little Castaways" height="404" width="392"/> + + </div> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 495px;"> + <img src="images/illus-099bottom.jpg" style="margin-top: -3.8em; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0em;" alt="The Little Castaways" height="260" width="495"/> + + </div> + + +<p style="margin-top: 5em;">T was a June afternoon, long and gentle; the sun did not scorch as it +does in August, and the wind was from the South, just strong enough to +stir the trees a little, and to carry the fragrance of the flowers +through the air.</p> + + + +<p>It was such<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> an afternoon as old people like to spend +listlessly watching the bees and the butterflies, and thinking of old +times; nor are they the only people who like June afternoons; their +children and their grandchildren in different fashion, make the most of +these long hours and never think them too long.</p> + +<p>Old Benjy Robin was humming a psalm-tune as he sat in his chair upon the +front stoop of his son's house, where he always lived; he had moved away +a little from the open passage which led to the back of the house, to +avoid the draught of wind that passed gently through. It was a very +pleasant wind to younger folk, but Old Benjy was turned of eighty, and +not so warm in his blood as to like such cool currents. His cane stood +between his knees, over which was spread a large red silk handkerchief, +and his hands were folded before him; while his two thumbs slowly turned +round each other, sometimes one way, sometimes the other. Before him he +could see down the garden walk, with its trim rows of shrubbery, and +beyond farther on, the very lovely hills that closed in the lake of +Clearwater, the shore of which was but a little way off.</p><p style="margin-top: 5em;"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> John Robin, +his son, who owned the house and farm, owned also part of the lake, and +there was a path, leading from the other side of the road in front of +the house, down to the shore where the horses were taken to water and +where the farmer kept his boats. It was a beautiful view from the stoop, +especially when as now the white clouds were floating over the tops of +the hills.</p> + +<p>It was so quiet and the air was so mild that old Benjy soon began to +feel sleepy; he took the red bandanna from his knees and threw it over +his head to keep the flies away from his face, and then settled himself +to sleep, while his thumbs continued to go slowly round and round as if +they were trying in vain to overtake one another. Old Juniper too, the +great Newfoundland dog that lay at his feet, gave up trying to catch the +flies that plagued him, and stretching himself out as much as he could, +drew in his tongue over his red gums, and also fell sound asleep +breathing very hard.</p> + +<p>The only persons in the house this June afternoon were the old man, +Juniper the dog, and Yulee, and Bo,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> Robin, Benjy's grandchildren. Their +father and mother had gone out for the afternoon and would not be back +until after tea; the boys were at work at the other end of the farm, and +so the children had been left in care of their grandfather and the +servant-maids. But Benjy had gone to sleep, and the servants had taken +the time to pay a visit to the next farmhouse. The children however did +not notice this; they were sitting on the door-step at the back of the +house, at the opposite end of the passage to where their grandfather +was. They enjoyed the wind that was blowing through so pleasantly, and +Yulee was reading aloud from a book to her brother Bo. Yulee was eight +years old; her real name was Julia, but no one but the school mistress +ever called her so. Bo, short for Robert, was two years younger and +wanted to do everything that Yulee did. Wherever Yulee was, there you +would be sure to find Bo. He followed her about as faithfully as a +chicken does her mother, and Yulee treated him very much as a hen does +its only chicken.</p> + +<p>The book they were reading was called "<i>The Castaways</i>,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> and Bo was +listening to Yulee with the greatest attention. At last, just as the +great clock in the hall struck three, Yulee finished; she had skipped +some of the parts, especially the hard names and Miss Keenmark's +science, but she had read the book through and Bo had heard most of it.</p> + +<p>"Bo!" said she, as she shut the book, "I'd like to be a castaway, +wouldn't you? It would be so fine to live on the top of a rock and have +to go up a rope ladder, and keep goats, and save the lives of Africans, +and sleep in an ox-cart!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but the lions!" said Bo, "and the—and the—what are those big +things that live in the water, and most swallowed the canoe?—you know."</p> + +<p>"I know what you mean," said Yulee. "The hippopotamuses. I said the word +all the way going to school yesterday, so as to remember it."</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't like them," said Bo.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but one of the men would fire right into his mouth, just as Albert +did. I'll find the place;" and turning over the leaves of the book, she +came to the story, and read:—"But they had not been long seated<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> when a +tremendous shock was felt; the light canoe was thrown above the water, +and capsized in a moment; and Albert, who was standing at the stern of +the raft, watching the boat, saw, to his great horror, the huge head of +a hippopotamus raised above the water, preparing to seize the canoe with +its red open mouth. Calling for aid, he seized his gun and fired in the +face of the ferocious beast, which with terrific roars, dived down and +disappeared."</p> + +<p>"But who'd you have to shoot the—pippi—what is it?" asked Bo.</p> + +<p>"The hippopotamus," said Yulee, who liked to pronounce the word; "why, +of course, there must be some men wrecked with me: there's the captain, +and the doctor, and carpenter, and the passengers—"</p> + +<p>"A'n't girls ever wrecked alone?" asked Bo; Yulee thought a minute; she +tried to recollect the different stories she had read about people who +were cast away. "No;" she said finally, "there is always the captain, +and the doctor, and the carpenter, and some of the passengers at least; +and the carpenter finds his chest."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> + +<p>Bo had nothing to say against such a mode of shipwrecking, and Yulee +continued: "But I think I'd rather be cast away on an island like +Robinson Crusoe or The Little Robinson, where there was water all +around, and canoes and pearls, just as it is in 'The Swiss Family.'" +"Bo!" she said suddenly, "I do declare! let's be cast away on the island +in the lake! We can get into the boat, you know, and be wrecked on the +shore, and you can take your bow and arrows, and I'll take my tea-set +and my range, and we'll build a little house, and perhaps there are some +goats on the island! Wouldn't it be grand!"</p> + +<p>Bo opened his brown eyes wide at the idea. "Well let's do it!" said he; +it was enough for him that Yulee had proposed it; "I'll go right off and +get my bow and arrows."</p> + +<p>"And I'll get my tea-set and the range, and I'll take Miss Phely," said +Yulee. They jumped up from the flat door-step, and ran into the house, +and up stairs to the play-room. There they began collecting what they +thought they should need, and Yulee very soon pounced on Miss Phely who +was in the corner of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> room, sitting very stiffly upon a small willow +rocking chair. Miss Phely's face originally was black, but rather +streaked with a doubtful colour now, as it had been washed somewhat +vigorously at different times; her eyes were blue and very wide open, +and her dress, which wanted a pin behind, was of spotted pink calico. +Her arms she held rather stiffly away from her clothes, and her fingers +were stretched as far apart as they well could be. Yulee was in a hurry, +and took her up unceremoniously by the waist, but Miss Phely did not +seem at all disturbed, and did not even wink or shut her fingers +together.</p> + +<p>They hurried down stairs and out by the front door, passing on tip-toe +by their grandfather, Old Benjy Robin, who slept soundly in his chair, +with his cane between his knees and the bandanna thrown over his head to +keep away the flies. Even Juniper, the dog, never woke up, though Yulee +was strongly tempted to add him to the party of castaways. They passed +through the garden gate, and crossing the road walked through the +pasture, down the path that led to the shore of Clearwater. There,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> tied +to a stake, was their father's flat-bottomed boat, with keel-boats near +by. Yulee chose the flat-bottomed boat, and they proceeded to put on +board their various stores.</p> + +<p>First, and head foremost, Miss Phely was deposited upon one of the +seats; if her head had been less hard it must have disliked the wooden +pillow that it was knocked down upon. After her came the box of cups and +saucers, tea-pot, sugar-bowl and creamer; then some of Miss Phely's +clothes, in case a change were desirable; a little Shaker basket, never +before used, which Yulee said was for berries; the bow and arrows; a +pail for the goats' milk; a tin pump with a trough attached to it; +little Bo carrying a pop-gun which was too valuable to be suffered out +of his hands; and lastly, Yulee holding in one hand "The Castaways," to +refer to in case of need, and in the other the most precious thing of +all to her—a little complete leaden range with places for every thing, +which had been given her for a present on her last birth-day, and in +which it had ever since been her secret but firm determination to build +a real fire. The range was alto<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>gether too valuable to be laid on the +seat like Miss Phely, so Yulee kept it in her hands; and she had not +forgotten either—prudent Yulee! to bring some matches wrapped up in a +piece of newspaper, and which she kept her eyes on constantly, as they +lay in the range, expecting every moment to see them start a-fire; +indeed, they kept her very uneasy. However, everything was now aboard.</p> + +<p>"Here, Bo," said she, "you sit down there, side of Miss Phely, and don't +let her tumble overboard, and I'll go and untie the rope." Bo began to +be a little frightened, but he had faith in Yulee, and Yulee had great +faith in herself. When she had untied the end of the rope that was in +the boat—and very hard work she found it—she said:</p> + +<p>"Now we're off, Bo! are you all ready?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Bo.</p> + +<p>"No; you must say, 'aye aye, sir!'" said Yulee.</p> + +<p>"But you a'n't <i>sir</i>," said Bo.</p> + +<p>"Yes I am," said Yulee, "I'm the Captain;" and she took her seat in the +middle of the boat, where she said the Captain always sat. "This ship is +the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> <i>Little Madras</i>, Bo," said she. "Where's 'The Castaways'? I'll read +about it." So she read how all the party, after their first shipwreck in +the <i>Madras</i>, had embarked again in the ship's long boat, which the +Captain called the <i>Little Madras</i>.</p> + +<p>"Are there any of those big animals here? you know that long name," +asked Bo.</p> + +<p>"Hippopotamuses?" said Yulee, promptly, delighted at the opportunity of +using the word. "Oh, no! there are no hippopotamuses in Clearwater; the +hippopotamuses only live in Africa."</p> + +<p>"You never saw one, did you?" said Bo, who didn't like to use the word.</p> + +<p>"No," said Yulee. "I never saw a hippopotamus, but I've seen an elephant +in the menagerie and I guess it's something like it. There's a picture +of one in the Castaways," and she showed it to Bo.</p> + +<p>While they were talking, the wind and the current had been gently +drifting the boat away from the shore; they were quite a distance from +the stake now, and really going toward the island, which lay in the lake +not very far off. They had never been there for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> their father said there +was nothing to see on it; but Yulee was very certain in her own mind +that there was something on the island very wonderful. She had made up a +great many stories about it, which she had told over to herself so often +that she believed them as much as if some one else had told them to her. +She was sure that there were goats there at any rate and possibly a +parrot; and she was ready to believe in a cave, and perhaps even a small +mountain with a rope ladder up to the top like the one in "the +Castaways," though she rather thought she would have seen that if there +had been one, from the shore. The island could not be seen from the +house, nor from the boat-landing; it was round a curve in the lake.</p> + +<p>The boat followed the current which led it slowly toward the island, and +Yulee was in ecstacies as they neared the shore. She sat in the bows of +the boat looking eagerly toward the island and trying to make out a good +place for a cave. But the land looked rather unpromising; it was low, +rising but little above the water, and covered with grass, a few low +bushes and one clump of trees. The boat did not seem able<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> to get much +nearer the island, after it was within a few yards of it, and even +appeared to be drifting away. Yulee noticed this and began to be alarmed +lest they should not be cast away after all.</p> + +<p>"Why don't we get wrecked?" asked Bo at this juncture, leaning over the +boat side and looking into the water which was hardly a foot deep here.</p> + +<p>"There ought to be a great wind," explained Yulee, "and a storm, and the +ship ought to go to pieces, and then we should be thrown on shore, and +in the morning we should go out to the wreck and get the carpenter's +chest and all sorts of things; at least that's the way it usually +happens, but we're in a boat you see, and that makes a difference. I +think, Bo," she added, "you'd better take off your shoes and stockings, +and get out and pull the boat ashore, or we never shall get there."</p> + +<p>So Bo rolled up his trousers, and with some difficulty got over the side +of the boat into the water. The boat moved easily, and Bo in great glee +pulled it to the island, to a place where there was a little beach, till +the bottom of the boat grated on the gravel.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Here we are!" said Yulee. "Now, Bo, we must get the things ashore +before the <i>Little Madras</i> goes to pieces." Bo stood on the beach by the +boat while Yulee handed to him the various stores and provisions, not +forgetting Miss Phely, who was still as wide awake as ever, staring +before her without winking and keeping her fingers stiffly apart in the +same uncomfortable fashion. Bo took her by the arm and tossed her upon +the ground in a very unfeeling manner. Last of all came Yulee, holding +fast her precious range and dividing her attention between the dangerous +matches and the disembarking from the boat.</p> + +<p>"Now, is the <i>Little Madras</i> going to pieces?" asked Bo.</p> + +<p>"It ought to," said Yulee, "or else it will drift away in the night +time. We'll tie it here, though, because you know we may want to sail +round our island, and I don't see any log of wood here to make a boat +out of as Robinson Crusoe did. Where's the rope, Bo?" she said, as she +looked round in vain for it in order to tie the boat to the shore.</p> + +<p>"You untied it," said he.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> + +<p>"So I did," said she, "but I must have untied the wrong end. Well, I +guess the boat will stay here." Secretly Yulee hoped the boat wouldn't +stay; it would be so much more like a real wreck.</p> + +<p>"Now, the first thing we must do," said Yulee, "is to explore our island +and see if there are any savages on it. You give me the bow and arrows +and take your gun, and if you see a savage you mustn't fire at him, but +must wait a moment to see if he won't come and kneel down and be your +slave."</p> + +<p>Bo was frightened at this; he wasn't prepared for savages. "Do you +really think, Yulee," said he, "that there are savages here?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said she, "I've never been here before, but it's best to +be prepared. Don't you be afraid, Bobo," she added encouragingly; "you +know we can take to the boat if they chase us, and they'll fire darts, +but the darts will fall into the water all around us, and won't hit us +at all."</p> + +<p>"Do you think it's safe, Yulee, to leave the things so on the beach?" +asked Bo, as they started off on their tour of discovery.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said she, "nobody will touch them, they never do; besides, +I've got the range with me." To be sure, she had the range in one hand, +but she had left the matches upon the beach as causing too much anxiety. +Thus they set off. Yulee with the range and the bow and arrows, and Bo +with his pop-gun. It did not take long to explore the island; it was +only about an acre in all, and irregular in shape. They came to the +clump of trees but did not dare go in, though Yulee was pretty sure that +the cave must be in there. They left that, however, for a future tour, +and came back without further adventure to their landing place, where +they found their stores safe upon the beach, but the boat to Bo's +consternation had drifted off from the shore, and was now some distance +away, floating down the Lake.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Yulee!" said he, "what shall we do I see the boat is gone!"</p> + +<p>"That is all right," said she cheerfully. "I wouldn't have been half so +much of a wreck if the boat had stayed. A'n't you glad we have got all +the things out? The next thing we must do is to build a house."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm hungry," said Bo.</p> + +<p>"Then we'll have dinner first," said she. "We'll have strawberries +to-day, but to-morrow we'll have fish, or you can shoot a goat."</p> + +<p>"But there a'n't any goats," said Bo.</p> + +<p>"Yes there are; they're in the cave in the clump of trees yonder." Bo +couldn't dispute that, but he demurred as to going in there to shoot +them. At present, however, they satisfied themselves with eating +strawberries, which were very plentiful upon the island.</p> + +<p>When they had eaten their strawberries, and had become quite crimson +about the mouth and finger-tips, they returned to the landing-place, +where Miss Phely had been keeping watch over the stores. She had been +placed in a sitting posture, leaning against a stone, and looking out +upon Clearwater as wide awake as when she had been put into the boat, +and with her arms and fingers extended as if she were delivering an +oration. She paid not the slightest attention to the valuables placed +under her guard. Bo began to look about for stones to throw into the +water<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> while Yulee thought it a good time to attend to Miss Phely's +toilet; so she set busily to work changing her frock; when she had +finished this to her satisfaction and was debating whether it would be +well to wash her face also, she remembered suddenly, what she had +forgotten for the while, that she was a cast away.</p> + +<p>"Bo!" she cried, "we ought to be building our house."</p> + +<p>"What shall we make it of?" said he. She reflected a moment.</p> + +<p>"Sometimes they build them of trees and sometimes of skins; the best way +is to have a cave. I wish we had a cave, Bo. I've half a mind to try +those trees. Will you go in if I will?"</p> + +<p>"Ye-es," said Bo, hesitatingly; "but you must go in first."</p> + +<p>"Let's make a fire first in the range and have some tea," said Yulee, +who could not quite get up courage enough to go in among the trees.</p> + +<p>"Oh, do! that'll be fine!" said Bo, joyfully. It was a very important +business, this making a fire in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> the range. Yulee had long been looking +forward to it, and now that she was really about to have the fire she +proceeded very cautiously, Bo standing ready to help her and peering +anxiously into the process. The range was precisely like a real range, +only it was very small, and was made of lead instead of iron. It had a +grate in the middle for the fire and a place underneath to hold the +ashes; it had ovens at the sides; it had flues and dampers and a chimney +piece, and even a place in front to heat irons on; moreover, it was +furnished with a full set of pots and pans and kettles. In fact it was +complete, and in Yulee's opinion, only needed a fire in the grate, real +smoke coming out of the chimney, and a kettle of water boiling over it, +to make it the most wonderful and perfect thing that ever had been +conceived.</p> + +<p>Now she set about preparing the fire. First she laid in the newspaper in +which she had brought the matches; then Bo was sent off for leaves and +came back with some very green grass and leaves of different sorts. +Yulee put these very carefully above the paper, and on top of them she +laid some twigs that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> she had broken up into bits, and now the fire was +all ready to be lighted.</p> + +<p>"Now, Bo," said she, "we must have the water in the kettle and on the +range before we light the fire." So Bo took the pump to the lake side +and filled it with water, and then hanging the kettle under the nose of +the pump, he jerked the pump handle and made the water come plashing out +into the kettle. He could have filled the kettle much easier by simply +dipping it in the lake, but it would not have been near so good fun. +However, it was full of water, and Yulee carefully set it in its place +upon the range. Everything now was ready for the fire. Bo held his +breath as he leaned on his hands and knees, eagerly watching Yulee while +she proceeded to handle the dangerous matches. She took one in her hand +and was just about rubbing it on a stone, when she stopped.</p> + +<p>"Bo!" she said, "I think we had better set the table first for tea."</p> + +<p>"Why, no!" said he, "mother always sets the table after she has set the +kettle a boiling."</p> + +<p>"But I shall want to watch the fire," said Yulee.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>—"Yes, I think we had +better set the table first." So the match was laid down to Bo's grief, +and Yulee proceeded to unpack the box containing her tea-set. They chose +for a table a flat rock sunken in the sand, and just the right size. On +this they arranged the cups and saucers, and tea-pot and sugar-bowl and +creamer.</p> + +<p>"We ought to have some real sugar," said Bo.</p> + +<p>"So we ought," said Yulee. "There ought to be some in the ship's +stores," she added. "They generally find a box of sugar on the beach, a +little damaged by the water. At least I believe they did in Swiss Family +Robinson."</p> + +<p>"Did they in 'The Castaways?'" asked Bo.</p> + +<p>"No," said Yulee, "but you know they weren't exactly wrecked the second +time—Dr. Cameron went out to the ship when the rest were on shore, and +brought back some things—I think there was sugar; let me see—here it +is," and she read:—</p> + +<p>"When the watering-boat touched the coast, Dr. Cameron went up and +courteously requested to be allowed to return in it, as the ladies had +forgotten<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> some little necessaries, and he proposed to bring out their +own boat, the <i>Little Madras</i>, to enable them to procure these trifles +as well as the cooking-apparatus which would be useful if they were +detained a few days on shore." Mum, mum, mum. "They succeeded in +lowering their own boat, with its oars, and by Marshall's advice, +brought from their property the carpenter's chest, disguised under the +covering of a travelling trunk, with the powder and shot, ropes and +straps, which had been left in the hold of their boat; but every morsel +of provision, biscuit, wine and flour had been removed, and could not be +found. Dr. Cameron had fortunately locked up his cabin before he left +the vessel, and was able to remove his own private property consisting +of a bag of coffee, a loaf of sugar, and a chest which contained his +valuable medical stores, all of which he now placed in the boat."</p> + +<p>Our castaways, however, had to content themselves like some of their +betters with sand for sugar, which they put in the sugar bowl, and then +filled the creamer with water, though Yulee declared that some time +they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> would find the goats and milk them. The table was now set and Miss +Phely was given a place by it, where she sat, still looking out on the +water in an abstracted way, and keeping her hands away from her clean +frock. She had none of the friskiness commonly belonging to black +children; she was anything but a Topsy.</p> + +<p>Nothing now remained to be done but to light the fire and make the tea. +Again Yulee took a match and Bo stooped down, breathlessly watching the +operation. "Ritzch!" went the match and Yulee held it between the bars +of the range to light the fire; it didn't seem to burn very well though +there was considerable smoke; in fact, the match after burning to the +edge of Yulee's fingers went out, and the fire was not yet fairly +kindled. Yulee tried another match with about the same success, only a +little more smoke.</p> + +<p>"Burn a lot at a time," suggested Bo. So she took a bunch of six and got +them into a fine blaze. Bo was still peering anxiously while Yulee with +her face very red, and her sun-bonnet fallen back, held the bunch of +matches between the bars; she tried them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> first between two and then +between another two. All at once something hot fell upon her hand; she +dropped the matches in the pan that was to hold the ashes and clapping +her other hand upon the spot, began hopping up and down with the pain +but determined not to cry.</p> + +<p>"Why! what is the matter?" said Bo, in great surprise. Yulee didn't dare +trust herself to speak—she was so afraid she might cry, but uncovered +her hand to show him, and there they both saw—for she had not looked at +it herself yet,—a shining spot as large as a three cent piece, and that +looked like silver.</p> + +<p>"Why!" exclaimed Yulee.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Bo.</p> + +<p>Yulee forgot her pain for a moment. How did it get there? what was it? +she touched it and found that it came off easily. It was irregular at +the edges, looking in fact like a spatter of silver.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" asked Bo.</p> + +<p>"What can it be?" said Yulee. "It looks like silver." She looked toward +the range to see if that could explain it. Then she burst into a loud +cry.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, Bo! Oh, Bo!" said she, "the range! the range!" Alas, the matches +that had been dropped into the ash-pan, had burnt on and flamed up, +melting the lead bars, the first drop from which had burnt poor Yulee's +hand. The sticks in the grate had fallen through with the heap of +matches, and catching fire, the melting had gone on until now the +beautiful range was a sad sight to behold. The kettle just then gave +way, and tipping up, spilled the water over, which hissed on the molten +lead and caused a great smoke to rise from the burning embers.</p> + +<p>Yulee and Bo gazed wofully on the ruin before them. It was too hot at +first to touch, and they stood for some time in front of it, looking at +the odd shapes that the melting lead had taken. If it had not been for +that, they would have been much worse off; but the drops of lead were so +curious and looked so much like animals and pieces of silver, that they +almost forgot for the time their great loss. But they soon remembered it +again and looked sadly at the range.</p> + +<p>"Don't you suppose it can be mended?" said Bo.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Yulee shaking her head, "I don't believe it can. +What will mother say!"</p> + +<p>"Yulee!" said Bo, suddenly, "I think we ought to pump on it so as to put +the fire out." So he ran for his pump which had not been emptied in +filling the kettle, and though the trough was somewhat in the way, he +managed to spill out the rest of the water on to the hot range, while +Yulee brought the cream-jug and emptied its contents also on it. By this +time the range was pretty cool and they could handle it; but it was in a +sad state, quite melted out.</p> + +<p>Yulee tried to solace herself with making tea for Miss Phely; but it was +miserable comfort to make tea with cold water that had not even made +believe boil as usual on the wonderful range. As for Miss Phely, she was +as unconcerned as ever, and seemed equally indifferent whether the water +were hot or cold, or even whether the tea were made or not, and sat +staring out upon the lake.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>But June afternoons, long as they are, have an end at last; and this +afternoon was drawing to a close.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> In the eagerness of making the fire, +the little Castaways had not noticed how late it was growing, but now, +when they were so disappointed and were sitting with Miss Phely +disconsolately by the rock, they saw that the sun had set, and that +evening was closing in.</p> + +<p>Yes, the night was coming; they had hardly thought of this before and +were not at all prepared for it. But it was still warm, for the June +afternoon lingers long and far into the evening. Then they fell to +eating strawberries again, for make-believe tea where everything is +water and sand is not very satisfactory. After the strawberrying they +came back to the shore again, and little Bo, now quite disheartened +began to make a noise which sounded a little like crying, it was a +whimper; but Yulee was brave and kept her courage up, and began telling +Bo stories which she had read about people who had been cast away upon +islands; but somehow or other she always seemed to remember best the +parts where they were attacked by savages and wild beasts, and +especially by her favourite hippopotamus. So that Bo only grew more +terrified and as it became darker began to fancy he heard ani<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>mals +around them, and once actually thought he saw a great hippopotamus with +open jaws coming out of Clearwater toward them. Yulee tried to read "The +Castaways," but it soon became too dark. Yet she wouldn't give in to +fear, but kept her courage stoutly.</p> + +<p>"Bo," said she, "it's getting dark and I think it must be time to put +Miss Phely to bed."</p> + +<p>"I want to go to bed," said Bo. "I want to go to mother!" and little Bo +cried now without any doubt. Yulee bravely kept back her tears and tried +to comfort Bo, who soon began to take an interest in the unrobing of +Miss Phely, who was put to bed on a very uncomfortable rock—the very +one in fact at which she had sat for her tea; but it made no difference +to her; she went to sleep with her eyes as wide open as ever.</p> + +<p>When this was over, Yulee, never at a loss, began to sing for Bo's +amusement and her own comfort. She sang all the songs she knew just as +they came into her head. "There is a happy land," "Three little +kittens." "Pop goes the weasel," "The sunday-school," and some others +which I have forgotten. Would you believe it? Bo fell fast asleep with +his head in her lap.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> Then Yulee felt less badly; before she had been +troubled about Bo, but now that he was asleep, leaning so upon her, she +felt a courage at having one depending upon her whom she must never +desert, no, not even if a hippopotamus, as she said, were to come toward +them.</p> + +<p>But no hippopotamus came; instead of that, she saw a boat with a light +twinkling in it, come rowing down the lake toward the island. The house +and the boat-landing could not be seen from the island, because as I +said, there was a point of land jutting out, and because the lake too +makes a bend. Yulee was singing the song about the little robins as the +boat came round the point. She was singing the line</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"And what will the robins do then, poor things!"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>And looked up at that moment, just as her father catching the sound of +her voice—called out:</p> + +<p>"There she is! bless her little soul, singing about the robins! Yulee!"</p> + +<p>"Here I am, father," said the little Castaway. "Bo, wake up! here's +father." Bo gave a sort of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> snuffle and went to sleep again. The boat +with a few pulls was now brought up to the island, and John Robin +jumping out, while the boys sat in the boat caught up Yulee and Bo in +his arms.</p> + +<p>"I've a good mind to give you a good whipping on the spot, you little +runaways!" said he; but he did no such thing; perhaps he thought he +would leave that to their mother. Bo opened his eyes and blinked in the +light of the lanterns, but went right to sleep again on his father's +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"We didn't run away," said Yulee, "we were cast away in the <i>Little +Madras</i>."</p> + +<p>"Where's the boat, Yulee?" asked one of her brothers.</p> + +<p>"Oh that was washed away of course," said she.</p> + +<p>"Why <i>of course</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Why, they always are," said she, "and they make new ones out of logs."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you make one out of a log, then?" he asked laughing. But +Yulee was too busy collecting her treasures to answer his foolish +question. She got them all safely on board at last, Miss Phely being +un<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>ceremoniously huddled into the boat without waiting to be dressed. +Now Yulee was reminded of her poor unfortunate range; but she said +nothing about it, only gathering up its ruins and taking especial care +of it.</p> + +<p>Yulee was very talkative at first, but her father was grave and silent, +and her brothers teased her, so that she soon stopped talking and began +wondering in her mind how she ever was to get the range mended, and +whether there was a cave in the grove of trees which she was very sorry +now she had not explored; she secretly determined to make a second trip +to the island for that purpose as soon as possible.</p> + +<p>But when they came to the shore and walked up to the house, and when +Yulee found her mother half wild with thinking she had been drowned, and +her grandfather, old Benjy Robin, crooning in his arm-chair and saying +he had been the death of them,—she began to think it was not so fine, +and lay down that night penitently in her little bed and promised over +and over never to be cast away again. As for Bo, he would do just as +Yulee said, but he privately resolved never to follow her to sea at any +rate. Even Miss Phely ap<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>peared so much the worse for her knocking about +that I think she must have been better satisfied with her corner in the +nursery; but as for repenting of her folly or blaming Yulee, I never +heard of her doing so. She always looked contented and indifferent.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus-130.jpg" width="600" height="320" alt="" title="chapter endpiece" /> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h2><br /><br /><a name="A_Faery_Surprise_Party" id="A_Faery_Surprise_Party"></a>A Faery Surprise Party.</h2> + +<h2>LILLIE'S STORY.<br /><br /></h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span><br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h2>A Faery Surprise Party.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 305px;"> +<img src="images/illus-133.jpg" width="305" height="400" style="margin-top: -2em;" alt="" title="M" /> +</div> + +<p style="margin-top: 2em;">Y name is Jack Frost, and I have a story to tell. If you don't know who +I am, ask my friend North East Wind, Esq., and he will tell you, and +whistle a tune which he made up about me. I am Painter to her Beauty +Mab, Queen of the Faeries. She gives me plenty of work to do; in the +summer-time I go North, like other artists, to take sketches, but when +the winter comes then I come back and paint my pictures. I paint chiefly +on glass, though sometimes on pottery,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> the night is the time I like +best to work in, for in the day-time the sun tries to put some colour +into the paintings, which spoils them; white is the only colour I ever +use.</p> + +<p>I was going to tell you, however, a story about what I saw the other +night. Queen Mab sent a snow-flake to me with a message. I was to paint +eight large squares of glass in a certain window of a certain house. I +might paint what I chose only it must be done in good season, for the +Queen was to visit the painting when it was finished. So I was at the +glass and at work early—'twas only a little after sundown; my friend, +North East Wind, jolly old fellow! was whistling a tune right merrily as +I handled my brush.</p> + +<p>There was a light inside the room, and I could see everything that was +going on there; I could hear everything too, for there was a crack in +one of the panes of glass; these cracks spoil my paintings—I never can +make any mark on the glass close to them—but how ever, here was this +crack, and I could make out through it everything that was going on. A +nurse was putting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> a little girl named Milly to bed, and they talked +incessantly. Milly was to have a party the next day, which was her sixth +birth-day; it was to be her first party. All things had been made ready +for it; she had had a new dress, white with red spots like wafers all +over it, and she was to wear a red sash and bronze kid slippers. Twelve +little girls had been invited, but only eleven were sure to come; Susan +Peabody was sick, and might not be there.</p> + +<p>All this I heard, and I saw Milly tucked up in bed and left to go to +sleep. Then I worked with a will, for I had no time to spare. I begged +my jolly friend, N. E. Wind, to be off with himself, as he interrupted +my work. So he gave one long wheugh! and away he went.</p> + +<p>At twelve o'clock my painting was done. It was the best piece I had done +in a long while; one square of glass in particular was superb, though I +say it that ought not say it. It was a picture of the palace of Queen +Mab; towers and spires were there, hung with crystal bells; the castle +was set round with trees, some slim, shooting up above the towers, some +stunted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> throwing out their branches in every direction. The whole +glittered most brilliantly. There was a network over all, as if a spider +had spun silver threads in front of it. I very often put that on +afterwards to add to the effect, though my friend North East Wind +pooh-poohs at it; but he knows nothing about art.</p> + +<p>It was twelve o'clock, as I said, and the moon was shining brightly; as +it rose higher, a moon-beam passed through the window, and through the +very square of glass that I had taken such pains with. It passed like a +carriage-way right by the great door of the Queen's palace, while the +other end rested on the bed where Milly was sleeping. I was standing on +the window sash, just touching up the work a little, when, all of a +sudden, what should I see but her Beauty Queen Mab with eleven +attendants; she came out of the great door of the palace I had +painted—that was the finest effect of all.</p> + +<p>She got into her sleigh which is made of a dove-feather, curling up in +front, and which is drawn by twelve lady birds: the lady birds all had +on robes of caterpillar fuz to keep them warm. The retinue<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> of eleven +Faeries were all riding on milk-white steeds of dandelion-down. The +Queen held the reins herself, and cracking the whip which is made of a +musquito leg, away they went over the moon-beam. The Queen saw me just +as they left the palace, and gave me a nod. She is very gracious! It did +not take them long to reach the bed, I can tell you, and they reined up +at the other end of the moon-beam, which rested on Milly's breast.</p> + +<p>I wondered what they were going to do here, but it was very soon +evident. It seems the Queen knew of the party Milly was to have, and +meant to get the better of her by giving her a surprise party first. So +she had brought the eleven Faeries with her—just the number of little +girls Milly was to have the next day.</p> + +<p>The Queen got out of her sleigh, and tied the ladybirds to the strings +of Milly's night-cap, that they might not run away. Then she walked +along very carefully till she came to Milly's chin. She climbed up it +and rested there for a minute, to get breath, and then went on, until +she was safely perched on Milly's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> red lip, where she was nearly blown +away, Milly breathed so hard.</p> + +<p>Here she beckoned to the eleven and they, leaving their horses below, +all set out to reach Milly's forehead, where she told them to gather. A +hard time they had of it, too! some of them tried to get up by the nose, +but the wind coming out of two great caves was too strong for them; +others more wisely crept round by the corners of the eyes, and scrambled +up the precipice there. But those who fared worst were a few who tried +to get through the hair. They got lost in the forest, and wandered about +for a long time, halloing and trying to find the top. You may wonder why +they didn't fly—I suppose you think Faeries always do—but I know +better. When winter comes they always take off their wings, and put them +carefully away where the moths can not touch them—chiefly in old +nut-shells; then in spring, their mantua-makers and milliners, the +caterpillars and spiders, get them out and put them in repair, or else +make new ones.</p> + +<p>However, they all at last safely reached the fore<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>head. That was a fine +large play-ground for them—the forest behind, and the hill and +precipices below. Here they formed a ring and took hold of hands.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Round the ring run,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Pass in and out,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Melt into one,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Puff! turn about!</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>cried Queen Mab, and in a twinkling the ring of Faeries was going round +and round, till it looked just like a glittering ring, perfectly still; +then all in a moment they had stopped, and each Faery in turn ran across +the ring, ducked between two Faeries, was back again, then between two +more, and so on, till I got perfectly confused, and couldn't tell one +from another, they seemed so mixed up; they kept getting more and more +in a maze, and nearer and nearer to each other, until it was just one +solid ball of Faeries; spinning round like a top; then suddenly the ball +seemed to burst, and the Faeries to scatter in every direction, but +really there was a perfect ring again, and whirling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> round in just the +opposite direction. And then the same thing was done over again, till I +should have thought they would all have been ready to drop.</p> + +<p>But that came to an end after a while, for they heard the Queen scream, +and they stopped to see what the matter might be. It was nothing, though +the Queen was a good deal frightened at first. Milly, who was probably +dreaming about them, smiled very prettily in her sleep, and as the lip +moved, the Queen perched on it almost lost her balance, and came as near +as possible to falling into the pit that was open before her. If she had +fallen in, she would have struck against Milly's teeth, and that might +have been the death of her. She got over her fright soon, and moved a +little farther back to get out of harm's way. This put an end to the +dance.</p> + +<p>After some games of hide and seek when they hid in the eyebrows and the +edge of the forest, they had a Tableau. The subject was "The Faery's +Sacrifice." That is a favourite story with them. I myself have painted +it on glass. A Faery—so the story runs—was once in great danger from a +Musquito; it would cer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>tainly have caught her and killed her, though she +was winged and flying very swiftly; but just then a horse of +dandelion-down came gliding by; she jumped on it and they two together +were too swift for the Musquito and she escaped; but they went so fast +through the wind that the poor horse lost almost all his down and +finally dropped upon the ground from sheer inability to go further. The +Faery loved him so for saving her that she pulled out her own wings and +fastened them on the horse;—away he went, and she had to creep home as +well as she could. But she did right though she suffered for it; she was +never sorry, and the story is told by the Faeries to their children. +This was the story that they played in the Tableau. There were two +scenes; in the first the Faery is just mounting the horse to escape the +Musquito—the Musquito of course they had to make believe was there, in +the second the horse lies panting on the ground and she is leaning over +it weeping. There should have been a third, as there usually is, where +she puts the wings on the horse, but they had no material with them for +that scene.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then came a Charade. The word was a very easy one—I guessed it +myself—it was <i>Duty</i>. It was divided into two parts; the first was +<i>dew</i>. Dew is a drink of the Faeries in summer-time. Half a dozen +Faeries sat in a circle. The hat of one of them which was made of a bit +of rose-leaf, they twisted and turned till it looked a little like the +cup of a violet, though the colour wasn't exact. This they put in the +middle; but where was the dew? there was none of course, so one of the +Faeries had crept down, got on a dandelion-down horse's back and ridden +over the moon-beam to the window. In the crack of the sash he got a wee +bit of ice that made part of a drop of water when he held it in his +hand. It looked like dew, and he managed to get it safely back without +spilling much. This had been put in the hat or pretended violet cup. +Each of the Faeries, according to custom, took a spoon in hand and +slowly stirred the dew in the cup. The spoons they use are made of +pieces of the stamens of different flowers; here they had make-believe +spoons made out of bits of hair from Milly's eyebrows. They stirred the +dew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> in the cup, and as they stirred they sang the Dew drinking +chorus:—</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"The shining Dew in the Violet cup</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Flows round and round in a silvery flood:—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Against the sides we'll dash the dew up,—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Then drink! and cool our summer-hot blood."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>But though they each in turn lifted the cup, they only pretended to +drink, for it was icy cold.</p> + +<p>That was for <i>du</i>; next came <i>ty</i>.</p> + +<p>This was done thus. They had a marriage-scene. Two little Faeries stood +up together, and the one that was to marry them took a hair from each of +their heads, and fastening the ends together, made a long string; with +this he tied them together in a true-lover knot; for such is the way the +Faeries do when they are married.</p> + +<p>This was for <i>ty</i>; then came the whole word.</p> + +<p>A Faery is seen busily occupied with weaving; she is making a veil for a +human maiden which shall keep her from seeing sin; the Faery is singing +to herself. Presently up comes a little Brownie—a male Faery that +is—most daintily dressed and in the gayest mood.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> He wants the little +weaving Faery to come with him; there is to be a most delicious little +gathering in a clover-field on purpose to sip clover-honey—white +clover-honey! Now of all things the little busy Faery loves +clover-honey; it would be so delightful to be there this charming +afternoon. She thinks she will go, but then she remembers the task which +the Queen has given her to do—to go would be to disobey. The Brownie +still begs, but she is firm—no, she will not go.</p> + +<p>That was the whole word—<i>Duty</i>.</p> + +<p>All this was very simple; a good many would have thought it very +childish, but it pleased the Faeries and it pleased the Queen, and that +was enough.</p> + +<p>But the party had lasted a long time now—much longer than it has taken +me to tell of it. The moon path was of course altered, but it didn't +make much matter. The Queen ordered them all to take to their horses, +and giving Milly a kiss on her rosy lips, she clambered down and untying +the lady birds from the strings of the night-cap got into her sleigh. +She cracked her musquito-leg whip, away went the lady birds and they +passed through the window—how, I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> don't know, but I'm sure I saw them +do it. The Queen saw me again as she passed out, and nodded to me. I had +just time to nod back and they were out of sight.</p> + +<p>That is all, and if it's not true then my name isn't Jack Frost; and if +you don't believe me, ask North East Wind, who is my friend, and he will +tell you the same thing.</p> + +<p>Wheugh!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/illus-145.jpg" width="550" height="486" alt="" title="chapter endpiece" /> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span><br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p> +<h2><br /><br /><a name="The_Rock_Elephant" id="The_Rock_Elephant"></a>The Rock Elephant.<br /><br /></h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="The_Rock-Elephant" id="The_Rock-Elephant"></a>The Rock-Elephant.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 326px;"> +<img src="images/illus-149.jpg" width="326" height="400" style="margin-top: -2em;" alt="" title="T" /> +</div> + +<p>HERE is a tradition among the Elephants that some one of the race will +one day mount up to the sky and dwell among the stars. Once a young +elephant thought that he must be the one, for a great stone becoming +detached from a cliff fell upon his head. He instantly exclaimed, "I see +stars all around me. I am surely the Elephant foretold!" and for a few +moments actually thought he must have "gone up;" but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> those standing by +saw him rambling round with uncertain step and laughed at him. When he +got over the effects of the blow on his head, he had to acknowledge that +he was still upon the earth, though he always solemnly declared that for +a few moments he really had been in the sky among the stars. Of course +he had not "gone up," and each still continued to hope that he was the +one destined to immortality. The Lion, they said, was among the stars, +and the Bear and even the senseless Dipper. But none knew that to live +among the stars one must go through a great deal of suffering.</p> + +<p>There were two Elephants living a long time since who were remarkably +sagacious. They were married and it was their earnest desire that their +son, if they ever had any, should be the one who should climb the sky +and live among the stars. They often talked over the best way of +securing this good, and ate up an immense number of different kinds of +trees because they had heard that there was a particular kind of tree +which, when eaten, would furnish the necessary knowledge. Whether they +ever ate the right tree or not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> it is difficult to say, but one night as +they were considering the matter, the father-Elephant noticed a strange +light in the north.</p> + +<p>"Look, my dear!" said he, "surely the woods are a-fire in the north!"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said she, "it is only the moon rising."</p> + +<p>"Hold your trunk!" said he, sharply. "Are you such a camel as not to +know that the moon never rises in the north?" But on second thoughts, he +added, "I don't think it can be the woods on fire. See! the light is +streaming up the sky. How many colours it has!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it is the rainbow," timidly suggested the mother-Elephant.</p> + +<p>"Rainbow! your Grandelephant!" retorted he, contemptuously. They stood +looking at the increasing light for some time longer with their trunks +elevated, the mother-Elephant wisely refraining from further comment; +when suddenly the father-Elephant, in a state of great excitement, began +whisking his trunk about, and turning, ran his ivory tusks against the +large sides of the mother. It was his way of express<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>ing joy. "Have a +care!" said she, impatiently, clumsily avoiding his thrusts. "Do you +want to make a hole in me?"</p> + +<p>"I have it! I have it!" said he, joyfully. "That is the way to the +stars! all we have to do is to reach the foot of these Northern Lights, +and then there must be some ascent by them to the stars." Hereupon the +Elephant began to dance about as well as he could, and tore up several +small trees by the roots in his exultation. The mother-Elephant, +however, had her doubts.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe," said she, "that we shall be any more likely to reach +these lights than I was to get to the foot of the rainbow, which you +know I tried once and had the mortification of being laughed at by the +monkeys in consequence. Nevertheless, I will do as you say, my dear; you +know best."</p> + +<p>That very night, accordingly, the two set out in search of the Northern +Lights. They travelled for days and weeks. Every once in a while, when +they began to get discouraged, the Aurora would appear and they would +press on with new hope. At last they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> came to a very cold country. Here +they made enquiries of a polar bear. Now the Polar Bear is generally +courteous. Like all the family he is very affectionate and always gives +one a hearty embrace upon meeting; but he is not sincere. It so happened +that his family also had a story and about these very Northern Lights. +The story was, that if one could find the foot of them one would +discover an immense hole or pit where one could sleep forever. This was +precisely what the polar bears most wanted, and they were forever going +north in search of the hole. This particular Polar Bear that the +Elephants met was at that very time on his way thither. So he thought to +himself, "This will never do. If these immense animals reach the +hole—for I'm sure that is what they are going for, the idea of the +stars is only an absurd blind—they will occupy all the room." This he +said to himself, and then he turned to the Elephants and said in answer +to their question as to the most direct road—"You will have to keep to +the east for some distance; then you will come to ice; cross it and you +will come to land again, after which you can again<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> enquire as I am +unable to direct you further; though if you go a little south, and call +on my cousins, the Black Bears, they will be very happy to give you any +information. Just mention my name to them and it will be sufficient." He +knew very well that the Black Bears knew nothing whatever of the matter. +What they wished was to find the Great Tree up which they could climb +and in which they could burrow. But all that the Polar Bear wanted was +to put the Elephants off the track.</p> + +<p>They thanked him for his politeness, and followed his directions. They +came to the ice which they crossed; and once more they trode on land, +but upon a new continent—upon North America, in fact, as it is now +called. "I am not so sure about this matter of going south," said the +father-Elephant. "It seems to me that we shall be going away from the +Northern Lights. I begin to mistrust the Polar Bear."</p> + +<p>"But my dear," said the mother-Elephant, "surely the way has been just +as he told us; and I could never doubt one so evidently warm-hearted. +Besides, don't you think it would be best to get where it is a little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> +warmer? You know we don't propose going ourselves; the journey is taken +solely on account of our son not yet born. We might let him grow a +little in a warmer country and then conduct him to the Northern Lights."</p> + +<p>The father-Elephant would not agree with her; he preferred to have his +own way; but finally he said: "I think we will go a little farther +South, on the whole. I am not sure but there is an easier way of getting +to the North, by taking just a little southerly and then an easterly +course." This was a very foolish reason, but it satisfied him. All he +wished was to do as he chose and not because his wife advised it. It +satisfied her too. All she wanted was to get where it was a little +warmer; but she found it hard not to say—"that is just the plan I +proposed." She was wise not to say it however.</p> + +<p>They had suffered a great deal by this time. So much travel and so much +severe weather, had brought sorrow and discomfort to them. They were +really thin for Elephants. The father-Elephant had lost much flesh, and +his skin hung about him very loosely.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> They complained too of the trees; +they were so stunted and such poor eating. They were, in truth, very +miserable. They even began to care but little for the object of their +journey. The object was changed in fact. Before, they were only anxious +to reach the Northern Lights—the staircase to the stars. Now, all they +desired was to reach a warmer place—one like that where they once +lived.</p> + +<p>At last the father-Elephant, overcome by all his trouble died; but the +mother-Elephant sustained by the hope of her unborn son, still pressed +toward the South, and rejoiced as the days grew warmer. Finally, she +reached a pleasant place where the hills were all about her, and the sun +shone warmly. Here was born the young Elephant, the son of the two +Elephants who had travelled so far. The mother now felt herself very +weak.</p> + +<p>"My son," she began with great difficulty, "there is a tradition"—but +just as she got through the word, she died, and the young Elephant in +vain listened for the rest of the sentence.</p> + +<p>"What's a tradition? I wonder," he said to himself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> "It must be +something to eat, I am excessively hungry." He looked round and saw a +birch tree standing by. "Ah! that must be the tradition my mother meant, +when she said, 'There is a tradition.' Yes, her trunk is pointing to +it." So he pulled up the birch tree and devoured it, as well as he +could. The young Elephant continued to wander among the mountains but +with no great purpose in life; for he was totally ignorant of the story +that one of his race would one day mount to the sky and dwell among the +stars, so that he was without that great object before him. Neither did +he know how much suffering his father and mother had gone through, that +he might be the fortunate Elephant who should ascend the sky. It was +spring when he was born. The days grew warmer and warmer and he enjoyed +them exceedingly. But after a while the days became shorter and the sun +was not so hot.</p> + +<p>"What is the meaning of this?" he one day asked of a Black Bear with +whom he was somewhat intimate.</p> + +<p>"It means," said the Bear gruffly, "that bye-and-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>bye the sun will go a +great way off, the snow will be on the ground; there will be no whortle +berries to eat, and I shall go to sleep."</p> + +<p>"Dreadful!" said the Elephant. "Is there no way of avoiding such +discomfort?"</p> + +<p>"None that I know of or care for," said the Bear. "Roll yourself up and +go to sleep as I do, and you'll be comfortable enough." But the Elephant +despaired of ever rolling himself up; he was growing larger every day +and such a proceeding was of course becoming more and more difficult.</p> + +<p>"Let us call a council of the animals," said he, "and see what is to be +done about it." Now the Elephant was greatly feared in the place. He was +so large and powerful. So no animal dared disobey when the Hare whom the +Elephant had sent brought the message to them. They assembled about a +deep pool. The Elephant opened the meeting by dipping his trunk into the +pool and squirting water over all the animals. He thought it was great +fun, and they did not dare run away, for they feared his anger.</p> + +<p>"The Elephant is very good-natured," whispered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> the Otter, who cared +nothing for the wetting, to the Fox who was shivering under his ducking, +and contriving a way of getting off. "You never see a large fat fellow +but he is so good-natured. What a joke that was of his to squirt water +all over the crowd!"</p> + +<p>"V-v-very," chattered the Fox. "It isn't what you call a dry joke, +though, is it?"</p> + +<p>"What a cunning fellow you are!" said the Otter. "But, holloa, are you +going off on the sly?" Yes, surely the Fox was starting away.</p> + +<p>"Tell the Elephant," said he, "that I'm off after a partridge. We shall +want something to eat after meeting." But he did not come back again. +While they were all shivering with the wet, the Elephant wiping the end +of his trunk upon some moss, opened his mouth and spake.</p> + +<p>"I notice," quoth he, "that it is not as warm as it was, and my friend +the Bear at my right hand (here the bear sitting on his hind legs nodded +his head and growled,) tells me that it will grow much colder even. It +would be a great calamity to all of us, and I have called you together +that we may confer as to the best<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> means of avoiding this severe cold +that is to come, which my friend the Bear (another growl) calls by the +name of winter. You are at liberty to make any suggestions you please."</p> + +<p>The Wolf spoke first. "Who cares for the winter?" snarled he. "For my +part I think it is great sport. The snow grows very hard, and one glides +over the crust so swiftly. Besides, it is easy then to see the footsteps +of my little friends," and the Wolf leered round upon the smaller +animals. "The winter is grand sport."</p> + +<p>"But I could not walk on the crust," said the Elephant, "I am too heavy. +No, it will not do at all just to take the winter as you would any other +season. We must either prevent the winter or protect ourselves from it. +Let us hear the Hare. I am not above listening to him."</p> + +<p>The Hare came out trembling and hardly dared open his mouth. His friend +the Squirrel, however, stood near and clapped to reassure him. "Go it, +Long Ears!" said he, encouragingly. Then the Hare bashfully spoke. "My +own course is to make a hole and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> get into it." Saying this, he hopped +back to his seat alarmed that he should have said so much.</p> + +<p>"That is very ridiculous!" said the Elephant. "It would be quite absurd +to expect me to make a hole and get into it." Just then there was a +rustling noise over head, and a dark cloud seemingly passed over them. +"What is that?" asked the Elephant. No one answered at first, when the +Squirrel came forward in a deferential manner and said: "Please your +Bigness, that is a flock of geese flying to the South. They go every +winter to keep warm."</p> + +<p>"Do they?" said the Elephant. "Why shouldn't I too go South to keep +warm?" No one objected to this; they all secretly hoped he would go, +except indeed the Wolf, who had been counting on the Elephant falling a +prey to him. At last the Squirrel spoke again.</p> + +<p>"Please your Bigness, I can show you the way to the South if you wish +it."</p> + +<p>"Pray what do you know about the South?" asked the Wolf, sneeringly, +"How would you go to get there?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Follow my tail!" retorted the Squirrel.</p> + +<p>"I think I will go to the South," said the Elephant, "and the Squirrel +may go with me to show the way. We will start immediately; there is no +time to be lost. Stay you all about here till I return." And off he +walked, preceded by the Squirrel.</p> + +<p>"How thankful I am that he has gone!" said the Hare, "but I wish the +Squirrel had not gone with him." The Wolf was savage at the idea of the +Elephant's going off and depriving him thus of such a fine winter's +provision. He showed his teeth fearfully. And when the night was later, +he stole swiftly and silently along the path over which the Elephant and +Squirrel had gone. "He will go to sleep," said the Wolf, "and then I +will spring upon him." He came up with the Elephant after a while, and +found him as he expected fast asleep, with the Squirrel perched on one +of his tusks. But the Squirrel kept good watch. He saw the gleaming eyes +of the Wolf and knew that he came for no good. Quickly he jumped upon +the Elephant's trunk, and running down to the end of it tickled it with +his tail. This instantly awoke the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> Elephant. It was no use now for the +Wolf to spring upon him. He could only hope to get the mastery of him if +he caught him asleep and off his guard. So the Wolf slunk back into the +woods again.</p> + +<p>In the morning the Elephant and Squirrel again took up their march. For +several days they walked toward the South, until they came one morning +to a river that was flowing quietly along. It was not a wide river; it +was hardly more than a brook, and one could scarcely hear a sound, it +flowed so smoothly. It ran through the forest, its edges skirted with +rows of flowers, and its banks cushioned with every variety of moss. +There was hardly a large stone in it for the water to eddy about. The +Squirrel ran up the Elephant's back, and he in two or three steps waded +across. It was not above his knee in any place. Once over on the other +side, the Squirrel ran down the Elephant's fore-leg to the ground. The +Elephant drank some of the cool water and then amused himself with +squirting it about in every direction. He aimed it chiefly at some rocks +that lay by the side of the river—rocks of all sizes and shapes. This +sport grew tire<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>some, however, and the Elephant began to look about for +some new fun. The rocks again met his eye.</p> + +<p>"What fun it would be," said he to the Squirrel, "if I should pitch +these rocks into the river." Saying this he twisted his trunk round an +immense boulder and flung it into the bed of the stream.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" screamed the Squirrel. "Don't do so! you will hurt the river."</p> + +<p>"It deserves to be hurt," said the Elephant. "What business has it to +flow along without making any noise. I'll teach it to sing." He threw +rock after rock into the river, piling them high up in some places. The +Squirrel looked on mournfully, and could bear it at last no longer. He +ran to the Elephant and looked up into his face.</p> + +<p>"Do you remember the first night we left home," said he, "how I +prevented the Wolf from killing you? For my sake, then, do not destroy +or hurt the river!" At this the Elephant grew very angry.</p> + +<p>"Go to the Wolf with your nonsense!" said he, and lifting his heavy +foot, he cruelly stepped upon the little Squirrel and crushed him to +death. The Ele<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span>phant was now perfectly fiendish. He raised his trunk in +the air and blew a terrible trumpet sound. He hurled rock after rock +into the stream. He walked down its side and kept casting in the rocks +and stones that lay about so plentifully. The river, when the first +stone fell in was shocked by it, and eddied around it in a petulant way. +As stone after stone came splashing in, choking its current, the river +more loudly complained and remonstrated, but to no purpose. Still the +rocks came crushing down, and now the river growing more and more angry, +rushed foaming madly along. Over the rocks and between it rushed and +roared. The moss on the banks and the tall flowers growing out of it, +trembled as the stream rose higher and higher. The Elephant snorted and +blew his terrible trumpet, walking up and down, and throwing rocks and +trees up-torn by the roots, into the rushing flood. At last the rocks +were all thrown in. Not one was left on the banks.</p> + +<p>Where now was the beautiful, quiet river? It was turned by the +remorseless Elephant into an angry, hateful flood. It was the Mad River. +Where was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> the little Squirrel that had saved the Elephant's life and +led him hither, and pleaded for the lovely river that it might be +spared? Dead! crushed by the unthankful, cruel Elephant, and swept down +the stream that dashed so fiercely along!</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The Elephant, after he had done this deed of violence, left Mad River +and walked into the woods beyond, cooler in spirit since his anger had +spent itself. He began now to reflect upon his conduct. "The river had +done nothing to me," he thought, "that I should treat it so harshly. And +the Squirrel—I killed the Squirrel, who was my best friend. That was an +unkind act." But though the Elephant thus began to blame himself, he +never thought of turning back, and undoing as much as he might of the +mischief he had done. He kept on his journey and tried to dismiss from +his mind such unpleasant thoughts. The Elephant is called good-natured +because he is so fat; that may be, but really he is both cruel and +cowardly.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 402px;"> +<img src="images/illus-166.jpg" width="402" height="600" alt=""He hurled rock after rock into the stream."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"He hurled rock after rock into the stream."</span> +</div> + +<p>He was somewhat fatigued by his angry labours and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> did not go much +further, but coming to a grassy place in the depth of the forest, he lay +down and slept. Nightfall came soon after and still he slept. In the +depth of the night, when all was still and dark, the sky in the north +grew brighter as rays of light shot in quivering ecstasy toward the +zenith. It was the Northern Lights—the Aurora Borealis. The parents of +this Elephant had long sought it but had never reached it; they had +hoped that it would be the staircase up which their son, the Elephant, +now asleep, would mount the sky to dwell among the stars. Still he +slept, though the light grew clearer and the rays became more distinctly +marked. It was now twelve o'clock and deep night. What was that +descending the slope of the Auroral Light? Who could tell? Who saw it? +Yet the Elephant in his sleep saw it. Down the slope he knew It +come—down the staircase which was the way to immortality. Now It +hovered near him and thus he heard It speak:—</p> + +<p>"Thou hast sinned. The river that flowed so peacefully and carried +beauty and joy wherever it ran, thou hast despoiled and rudely ravaged. +Thou<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> smotest its breast with terrible rocks; thou wouldst not heed its +complaining cry; thou turnedst its peace into mad wrangling. But worse, +thou slewest with thine own foot the little one that loved thee and +saved thy life from the fierce Wolf. For this the river and the Squirrel +shall be avenged. Thou didst choke the river with rocks; thou didst +crush the Squirrel with thy foot. Thou shalt thyself become a stone and +another shall stand on thy head. Arise!"</p> + +<p>The Elephant obeyed trembling. He stood upon his feet. For one moment he +saw with his mortal eyes It that had spoken; the next he was blinded by +a flash; he saw no more, but he knew that in that instant he was turned +into a rock where he was standing. His feet were sunk in the ground and +his trunk extended before him was also rooted in the earth. All stone. +Where his eyes were, only two slight chinks in the rock remained.</p> + +<p>But at the same moment the Elephant heard,—so faintly that he could +hardly catch the sound—a last word from the voice:—</p> + +<p>"Thus, but not forever. A Deliverer shall come and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> thou shalt mount up +to the sky and dwell among the stars."</p> + +<p>That was what the Elephant heard. He heard nothing more but he could +feel. He could feel himself a stone; that is a dreadful thing to feel. +It was a heavy, crushing feeling; a dead weight always bearing him down. +He could not lift it; he could not throw it off. It was forever crushing +him down, down,—though he never really sank. But it was the same thing +to him; he felt that he was sinking.</p> + +<p>But he had another evil to bear. A tree with its roots sunk in the +ground all about him, stood directly over his head. That was a bitter +suffering to him; he could feel it there. He knew that it was stretching +its long arms into the air and waving its branches in the wind. He knew +that its roots grappled his body and grew tighter fixed in the earth. +The tree, indeed, died in time, but another took its place and the +torment grew with it. For it kept in his mind the Squirrel he had +killed. He could stolidly bear the crushing weight of the rock bringing +remorse at the recollection of the happy river that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> he had made an +angry brawling stream,—but the tree—it was a birch, the very kind that +he had first devoured after the death of his mother, the tree, that +moving with every breath of air, stirred in his mind the recollection of +the Squirrel he had killed, who had loved him, saved him from death, and +died beside for love of the river—the tree he thought he could not +bear.</p> + +<p>But still through all his remorse and bitter anguish, the Elephant +seemed to hear, though faintly, the last words spoken:</p> + +<p>"But not forever. A Deliverer shall come, and thou shalt mount the sky +and dwell among the stars."</p> + +<p>This was the only slight ray of comfort, though he did not always +remember it, but still when the morning sun arose and its beams fell +upon the rock, it awakened the remembrance in the Elephant's mind, and +he repeated to himself, "A Deliverer shall come." And sometimes in the +deep and still night, the Aurora flushing in the north would lighten up +a deeper and more cheering hope, for by it he thought would the +Deliverer come.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> + +<p>But though the Deliverer has not yet come, still some small comfort does +the Elephant have. For the gentle mosses have grown over his stony body; +the mosses on the river bank he had terrified and roughly beaten with +the jagged rocks. Now did these spread themselves over him, covering him +with green verdure and gladdening his soul with the love they gave him. +The tree, too, drops yearly its leaves upon his back, and the roots, +though they hug him closer, seem to him to do it more lovingly and not +with the old terrible gripe.</p> + +<p>Yes, all these things make him mindful of the Deliverer. He knows not in +what form he will come, but I will tell you. A Squirrel shall finally +gnaw away the roots of the tree and it will fall never to rise again. +The river, turning its course, shall flow over and about him, and its +constant washing shall wear away the rock. The rocky covering gone, in +the night, the deep and still night, the Aurora of the north shall +stream upon the bed of the river, and where the rock once stood shall +rise up the Elephant, and the Squirrel that once led him shall now go +before him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> and lead him up the quivering rays to the sky, where he +shall become a constellation never before seen by men, but then +discovered and named</p> + +<h3>The Elephant.</h3> + +<p class="center">Now he sleeps still in the deep forest. It must all be true, for I have +seen him there, and so have others.</p> + +<h4> +<i>Vaterville, Valley of the Mad,<br /> +White Mountains.</i><br /> +</h4> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/illus-172.jpg" width="500" height="329" alt="" title="chapter endpiece" /> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h2><br /><br />The Old Brown Coat.</h2> + +<h2>ALICE'S STORY.<br /><br /></h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span><br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h2><a name="The_Gift" id="The_Gift"></a>The Gift.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 223px;"> +<img src="images/illus-175.jpg" width="223" height="400" style="margin-top: -2em;" alt="" title="T" /> +</div> + +<p style="margin-top: 2em;">HE royal family of the Kingdom of Percan had an old brown coat which +they prized very highly; it was so old that no one could say exactly +when it was made, but the story was that the Phœnix made it for the +first King of Percan, so it must have been very old. Only the ruler of +the kingdom was allowed to put it on, which he did once a year, on New +Year's Day. Anybody else who wore it either would die or become king. +Such an old coat would have to be mended<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> occasionally, for though the +King put it on very carefully on New Year's Day—sixteen men helping him +on with it and taking two hours to do it in—and though he only wore it +an hour and then put it away safely in a cedar chest for the rest of the +year,—yet for all this care the coat, being so old and weak, frequently +was torn. Whenever this sad event happened, the sixteen men who were +called "Coat-Tails to His Majesty," (because they were appendages to the +coat,) carried the coat to the oldest woman in the kingdom, who was +obliged to mend it. If she were so old as to be helpless, the Sixteen +Coat-Tails put her to death and then went to the woman next to her in +age, who was of course the oldest then, until at last they found one who +could mend it. Then they all kept guard over her to see that neither she +nor any one else put it on, and when the coat was mended, they carried +it back to the king's palace and put it away in the cedar chest. Once +safely locked up, the Sixteen Coat-Tails sat on the chest by turns all +the rest of the year. They were very trusty men indeed; it was a great +honour to be one of the Coat-Tails.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now, at the time when this story commences, the King of Percan was +Shahtah the Great. He was called the Great, because he weighed so much +and measured so far round the waist; since he had come to the throne, he +had been growing greater and more powerful, until his fame spread +through all the earth.</p> + +<p>It was New Year's Day; and all the people came flocking to the palace to +see the King put on the Old Brown Coat. At noon came a long procession +led by the Sixteen Coat-Tails, headed by Kaddel the chief of the +Sixteen; they carried the coat in a gold box. "See!" cried the people; +"that is the box! the Old Brown Coat is inside! hurrah!" and as the +procession passed, all the people shouted and tossed up their hats. And +Kaddel was so splendidly dressed that he thought some of the crowd must +be shouting for him. Then the palace was crowded as Kaddel at the head +of the Coat-Tails brought the box before the King, who sat on the +throne, and opened it in the presence of the royal family and the +people, who however could not get near enough to see very much. The King +who, as I said, was very fat, came slowly down the steps of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> throne +and laid aside his regal apparel, when the Sixteen Coat-Tails lifted the +Old Brown Coat very carefully and began putting it upon the King; and +very hard work it was. "I must reduce my size," said Shahtah; "next year +I will drink a great deal of vinegar. I really am afraid I shall not be +able to get the coat on without tearing it." Indeed the coat was already +beginning to burst in several places, and Shahtah became quite heated +with trying to make himself as small as possible. "If your Majesty would +let out your breath," said Kaddel, "I think we might get it on." So +Shahtah let out his breath as well as he could, at the same time +shrinking in his skin, and the Sixteen Coat-Tails seized the opportunity +to give a final push to the coat, so that it was at last fairly on, two +hours and five minutes after it was taken out of the box. But Shahtah, +the King, could not possibly do without breathing longer; he grew very +red, and by the time the coat was fairly on was so exhausted, and so +relieved at being through with the exertion, that he drew a long breath +and sighed heavily, which expanded his portly frame until the coat burst +in twenty rents.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> "How vexatious!" thought Kaddel, "and my grandmother +who is blind, is the oldest woman! If now, the King were only as thin as +I am," (for he was very thin,) "there would be no difficulty; or if I +were only the king," he half added to himself.</p> + +<p>When the coat was taken off, after the people had looked at it for an +hour, and Shahtah the Great had been put to bed, for he was very much +exhausted,—the Sixteen Coat-Tails immediately set out with the coat to +get it mended. "Who is the oldest woman in the kingdom?" asked one of +them. Kaddel kept the list and had to answer—"It is my grandmother." So +they went to her house. But Kaddel's grandmother was ninety years old +and blind, and besides had lost the use of her hands by paralysis. Of +course she could not mend the coat, so there was nothing to be done but +to put her to death and find the next in age. The law was very strict +and could not be avoided. When they went away with the Old Brown Coat, +Kaddel felt very bitter toward the fat old Shahtah. "If he had only been +lean like me!" he groaned; "or if I were only king," he added to +himself. This he said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> to himself so often that by the time they had +found an old woman who could mend the coat, Kaddel had made up his mind +to be king. "To be king," said he, "one must needs wear the Old Brown +Coat; to be sure one may die; but the chance is even; and at any rate I +am determined to kill Shahtah for making my grandmother die. The coat +would just fit me."</p> + +<p>The first night after the coat was finished and safely locked up in the +cedar chest in the palace of the King of Percan, it was Kaddel's turn to +sit upon the chest to guard it. In the middle of the night when all was +quiet, he opened the chest and very carefully put on the Old Brown Coat; +it was a perfect fit. "Now that I have put it on," said he, "I must +either be king or die." Then he wont silently up to Shahtah's chamber +where the guard let him in without suspicion, for Kaddel was a very +trusty man and chief of the Sixteen Coat-Tails; there he killed the fat +Shahtah and came out again. "Do not disturb the King," he said to the +guard, "he will sleep late." Returning to the chest he took out the coat +again and, doing it up in a bundle, went off with it on horseback long +before morning,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> for he said to himself, "I will escape with the coat, +then when the family of the King find he has been killed and the Old +Brown Coat taken by me, they will be very angry and try to catch me and +get the coat again, for no one can rule who does not wear the coat. But +the people like me, and after a while I will come back and rule over +them." So he rode night and day for a long while, and though the King's +family sent messengers after him in every direction, they could not find +him.</p> + +<p>But Kaddel had forgotten that he who wears the coat may after all not be +king but die. He was in the forest on the banks of a beautiful blue +river. He was hiding in a cave very far away from any living person, but +not far away from the wild beasts. One day he had taken the Old Brown +Coat out of the bundle and laid it upon the limb of a tree, that he +might look at it and fancy himself a king wearing it; but a tiger stole +smoothly behind him and, before he was aware, the beast had killed +Kaddel. The Coat lay still upon the bough and was protected by the +leaves. But a great wind came and broke off the bough, send<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>ing it into +the river that flowed below; the coat clung to the limb and floated with +it for many days down the river.</p> + +<p>Now the river ran for hundreds of miles through the forest without +passing any house, but then it came to a woodman's hut where dwelt, +entirely alone, the woodman and his little daughter Isal. One evening +after the sun was down, Isal was playing on the river bank when she saw +a limb of a tree floating down the river toward her; as it came near, +the current of the stream brought it by the bank, and Isal, reaching out +into the water, took hold of a twig and drew to her the very bough which +had floated for hundred of miles down the river, with the Old Brown Coat +snugly hid among the twigs and leaves. "Here is a coat!" said Isal. "I +wonder where it could have come from!" She took it off the bough, which +drifted away as she let it go, and held up the coat to look at it. "And +what a strange looking coat it is!" she said. "It must be very old; it +is very carefully mended too. Some poor person must have owned it; but +it doesn't belong to anyone I know. I'll see if it fits me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> Now Isal +had never heard anything about the Old Brown Coat of the Kingdom of +Percan, and of course knew nothing about the story that any one who wore +it must rule or die. "It certainly fits me very well," said she, "but I +don't think it is very warm; it is soft though, and I will sleep on it +to night." She carried it into the house and showed it to her father, +who turned it round and round but knew no more about it than she. When +night came she laid the coat upon her hard bed so as to make it a little +softer, for they were very poor, and soon went to sleep upon it.</p> + +<p>Do you recollect that I told you at the beginning of this story that the +Phœnix made the Old Brown Coat? Yes, the Phœnix made it, but not +the one that was living then; for the Phœnix, you know, lives for +five hundred years; there is only one Phœnix at a time, and when the +old bird has lived his five hundred years, he builds a bonfire of sweet +spices and lies down on it; when he is burned to ashes, out of the +cinders rises up a new Phœnix with crimson and golden feathers who +also lives five hundred years, and so on. It looks something like an +eagle, though to be sure it is a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> great deal more magnificent than the +eagle, and is a very wise bird. I do not know how old the present +Phœnix is; persons differ about his age. Now it was a +Phœnix—surely the great-great-great-grandfather of the one who was +living in the reign of Shahtah, King of Percan, that made the Old Brown +Coat; and the descendants of that bird, called generally Phœnix the +Tailor, took a great interest in the coat and in all who wore it. The +Phœnix who was living at the time of this story, was very much +concerned about the stealing of the coat. He was a very old bird; he was +four hundred and ninety-five years old when Shahtah was killed, and of +course knew a great deal.</p> + +<p>"Such a thing has not happened in my memory," said he, gravely, "but the +times are growing very degenerate. When I was young there was a great +deal more respect shown to the Old Brown Coat. That coat was made by the +Tailor, my great-great-great grandfather. I can remember when the whole +kingdom would have held their breath if there had happened a rent in the +coat. But the times are sadly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> degenerate. I am sure I don't know what +the world will come to after I die."</p> + +<p>This he said to the Tufters. The Phœnix of course can have no +children, so he generally adopts four birds of some other family and +brings them up to wait on him. The four adopted children of the +Phœnix were Tufters, that is a kind of goose, but differing from the +goose in having a very fine scarlet tuft on the head which sets off the +white body very finely; besides the Tufter is very wise. You sometimes +hear persons say—as silly as a goose, but never as silly as a Tufter. +Still the Tufters are geese after all, and are very fond of cackling. +So, when the Phœnix had done speaking, the Tufters looked at one +another and burst into a fit of cackling. The Phœnix was very much +displeased at this. "How often have I told you," said he, "not to cackle +in that way. It is very disrespectful in you. Besides this is no +cackling matter." So the Tufters tried to look solemn, which made them +look very much like geese. "I don't know exactly what it is best to do +about this," proceeded the Phœnix, stroking his beak with one of his +claws as he always did when he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> reflected; "but at any rate we must +watch the coat." So the Tufters were sent off to keep watch over the +coat, all except the youngest, who remained behind to take care of the +aged bird. Her name was Rosedrop, because the tuft on her head was +shaped and coloured like a rose.</p> + +<p>After a while the Tufters came back very much excited. They forgot to +make their obeisance to the Phœnix, when they came in, which +irritated the venerable bird very much. "Where are your manners?" said +he, sharply, as they were about to speak all at once. The Tufters +recollected themselves, and standing in a row before the Phœnix, each +upon one leg, they stretched out their long necks and bowed all together +till their heads touched the ground, when they rubbed their brilliant +tufts in the dirt. They always do this to show their humility. This +pleased the Phœnix, and he told them they might speak now if they had +anything to tell him, but one at a time. Whereupon, they all forgot +their manners again, and cackled together in a most confusing manner, +telling him that Kaddel had been killed, the coat had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> carried down +the river and captured by a woodman's little daughter, named Isal.</p> + +<p>"I saw it myself," said the oldest, "and I saw Isal take it from the +bough, on which it floated, and put it on."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the second, "and she has gone to sleep on it. She is very +beautiful."</p> + +<p>"But she will have to die or else rule, which is impossible, though; the +law is very strict," said the next.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said the youngest, who had stayed with her father, "and must she +die, because she put the coat on?" And Rosedrop looked very sad. She +would have cried, but Tufters never cry. The Phœnix was evidently +very much perplexed. He shook his head very hard while all the Tufters +stood huddled around him.</p> + +<p>"We must put this right," said he at last; but he did not say how; no +doubt he knew, though, he looked so wise.</p> + +<p>"Suppose we carry the coat back to the Prince; he will never know that +Isal wore it," suggested the third of the Tufters who had spoken +before.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Little Tufters should be seen, not heard," said the Phœnix; "I did +not ask your advice." At this the Tufter who had spoken so rashly looked +very foolish, and the rest cackled over it. "You're a goose!" said they, +all except Rosedrop, who came up and stroked her brother's tuft with her +bill. "Isal must be brought here," at last said the Phœnix. "You must +all four go and bring her here with the coat."</p> + +<p>Away flew the Tufters—they fly very swiftly—and long before morning, +though it was hundreds of miles away, they had come to the woodman's +hut. The father and Isal were both asleep—Isal upon the Old Brown Coat. +"What a sweet face!" whispered Rosedrop. Then each took a corner of the +coat by the beak and lifting it up with Isal upon it, they flew out of +the house and back again to the Phœnix. Isal was still asleep, but +the morning light would soon wake her.</p> + +<p>"Shall I give her a worm?" said the Tufter who had spoken so rashly +before.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" said the Phœnix sharply. "Little girls don't eat worms! +Be more discreet. But you may go and find some berries." So he went off +for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> them and Rosedrop with him. Isal was awake when they came back, and +very much astonished at everything about her.</p> + +<p>"How came I here?" said she, "with these strange looking birds about me. +That is certainly a very odd looking bird, and very tame;" and she went +up to the Phœnix to stroke it.</p> + +<p>"Make your manners! make your manners! Stand on one foot! Put your head +out! so!" screamed all the Tufters at once, as they stretched out their +necks toward her and the Phœnix. But Isal could not tell that they +said anything. "How these geese do cackle," said she, as she stroked the +Phœnix, who did not dislike it, though he thought her rather forward, +and bade Rosedrop bring her some berries. Rosedrop brought them to Isal, +who thought she was the prettiest of all, and not at all like a goose.</p> + +<p>"What shall we do with her now we have her here?" asked the rash Tufter; +but he was sorry he asked, for the Phœnix gave him a terrible peck.</p> + +<p>"I know my own affairs," said the old bird angrily, but really he knew +very little about this affair and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> was sadly perplexed and quite at his +wit's end. He said nothing of that though, but looked more than usually +wise, and finally, when all were on tip-toe, or rather tip-claw, to hear +what the wise bird would say, he spoke, and told the oldest to go to the +palace of the King and bring back word of what was going on there.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said the second in age, "the Phœnix is a wonderful bird! what +deep plans he has!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Meanwhile Isal stayed by the Phœnix and the three Tufters, who kept +very good watch over her. She looked about in vain for her father's +house or for the great blue river; she could not understand how she came +to be where she was and in such strange company; for, though the birds +all told her everything about it a great many times over, she could not +understand them, for she had never learned the Phœnician and the +Tufter tongues. After roaming about all day and eating berries, shouting +for her father and sometimes crying, she lay down upon the Old Brown +Coat. The coat she knew; somehow or other she was pretty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> sure that it +must have had something to do with her strange journey. She had heard +her father tell about the wonderful cushion that Houssain rode upon; +perhaps she had flown here upon the coat; she would lie down upon it and +wish herself home again, and "who knows," said she, "but I shall wake up +on my cot in the morning?"</p> + +<p>After Isal had dropped asleep the Tufter who had been sent to the palace +returned quite out of breath; he had such good news to tell; he hurried +through his manners before the punctilious Phœnix, and then proceeded +to relate how he had called on his friend, the Peacock, who lived in the +palace garden. "I had a very good time, indeed," said he; "we had green +peas to eat, and the Peacock showed me all his new feathers. I asked him +about the theft of the coat and what the prince was going to do; but he +did not know much about it; he said that for his part he thought people +made a very ridiculous fuss about a seedy old coat. But just then we +were joined by the Rabbit. The Peacock rather despised him; he whispered +to me—so loud that I am sure the Rabbit must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> have heard—'Did you ever +see such an absurd tail?' But I am sure the Rabbit is very beautiful and +much more intelligent. The Peacock has such a disagreeable voice, and he +is always trying to sing. I asked the Rabbit if he knew anything about +the coat. He said he did; his friend the Mouse had told him the latest +news that very morning; and the Mouse was very good authority, for he +lived generally in the library and had gone through a great many books; +he was very learned; he had overheard the Prince talking with the +prime-minister, and he gathered that the Prince had sent out a +proclamation, promising to give a very large sum to any one who would +bring back the Old Brown Coat, and if it chanced to be a maiden he would +marry her and make her queen; though of course that was quite absurd, +the Rabbit said; but then the Rabbit jumps at conclusions. The Peacock +tried to turn the conversation once or twice; he thought it was +insufferably dull and finally went off in a dudgeon, and I saw him as I +flew away, looking very grand, strutting along the garden walk. I bade +the Rabbit good-by and left my regards for the Mouse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> though I am afraid +it was rather improper—the Mouse is so learned. And here I am."</p> + +<p>When the Tufter finished they all talked very eagerly about what was +best to be done, while the Phœnix sat apart and deliberated by +himself; of course the four children could know nothing about it.</p> + +<p>Finally he called them to him and said—"Children, you may get +yourselves ready to go with me to the Palace." This was, indeed, great +news; the Phœnix had not, visited the palace for a hundred years. +This was indeed a great event!</p> + +<p>"May I go too?" asked Rosedrop.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Phœnix, "you shall all go. You are to carry Isal with +you on the coat. We shall go slowly. I am too old to travel very fast."</p> + +<p>For a week they travelled. Every morning when Isal awoke she was +surprised to find herself in a new place; always with the Old Brown Coat +and the strange birds; they only travelled in the night time when Isal +was asleep; in the day time they rested on account of the Phœnix. At +last one morning, an hour before sunrise, they came to the Palace and +alighted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> in the garden just below the Prince's window. They laid Isal +on the Old Brown Coat upon the grass, and then the Phœnix bade the +Tufters fly away a few miles into the woods and wait his coming. +Rosedrop, however, he bade stay a while, when she tapped with her beak +upon the window of the Prince's chamber, and then flew away to join her +brothers.</p> + +<p>The Prince heard the tapping upon the window, and said—"It is the +messenger-bird," and rose to see if it had brought him a billet. He +opened the window but no bird flew in, and he leaned upon the sill and +looked up to the beautiful sky; the morning-star was just disappearing; +he watched it till it was gone, and then cast his eyes on the green +grass below. What should he see there but a lovely girl lying asleep on +the grass, and a very magnificent bird standing beside her. He hastened +down and stooped over the beautiful maiden. "How lovely!" said he; "she +is more beautiful than the daughters of Calla. She is the morning-star +which I just saw disappear in the heavens." He bent his face to hers and +kissed her. With the kiss Isal awoke, and when she saw lean<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>ing over her +so grand a looking person, she was more wonderstruck than ever before. +"Surely he kissed me!" she murmured. Here the Phœnix broke in with a +remark.</p> + +<p>"O Prince," said he, "I am the Phœnix. For nearly five hundred years +I have lived and guarded the Old Brown Coat. It was stolen, and I have +brought it back to you with the maiden you are to marry. But you have +taken no sort of notice of the coat. My great-great-great grandfather +made that coat. It is more valuable than a hundred lovely girls."</p> + +<p>When the Prince heard the Phœnix speak, he turned and saw the grand +bird which he had overlooked. But he could not understand a word he +said, though the Phœnix spoke very loud and as he thought very +distinctly. "This is a very strange bird, indeed!" said the Prince. "Did +the bird fly with you from the heavens, Morning-Star!"</p> + +<p>Isal said, half to herself, "It is very strange. I cannot understand it +at all. How did I come here! It is like a dream. And where are the other +birds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> with tufts on their heads?" She got up as she said this; the +Prince lifting her by the hand. Then the Prince saw the Old Brown Coat. +"Ah! you have brought me my precious coat again!" said he, and he took +it up joyfully. At this the Phœnix grew very much excited.</p> + +<p>"He will tear it!" said he. "Where are the Sixteen Coat-Tails? This is +alarming!"</p> + +<p>But the Prince, without heeding him, took Isal by the hand and led her +into the Palace, carrying, too, the Old Brown Coat. Then he made Isal +tell him all that she knew about it. The royal household gathered about, +mad with joy that the Old Brown Coat had been found again. The Sixteen +Coat-Tails came in very solemnly and took possession of it. Each of the +Sixteen in turn looked over it carefully, but could not find the least +rent or tear. "How wonderful!" said they, "but we are very glad to get +it again; we are so distinguished now." The bells of the city were rung +and crowds of people came to rejoice over the recovery of the coat. +Meanwhile the Phœnix walked about the garden.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> + +<p>"This is as it should be," said he, "as far as the Old Brown Coat is +concerned, but I don't receive the honour due to me. I am the Phœnix; +the only one of course in the world. I am five hundred years old, +nearly. When I was here a hundred years ago I was made very much of. But +the world is growing very degenerate." The gardener of the palace came +by just then.</p> + +<p>"What have we here?" said he. "Can it be that this is the Phœnix? I +have heard my father describe the one that was here a century ago, and +it certainly was very much like this fine bird." He went into the Palace +and desired an audience with the Prince. "Does your majesty know," said +he, "that the Phœnix is here?"</p> + +<p>At this all the people set up a shout. "The Phœnix! It is the royal +bird of Percan! Long live the Phœnix!"</p> + +<p>The Prince and people passed into the garden and stood looking at the +Phœnix. "Now I am respected;" said he. "This is as it should be." It +was a great day for the Phœnix and a great day for the people.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> The +Poet recited a long ode in his honour. The musicians played a great deal +of music; the wise men, moreover, all got together and held a discussion +for several hours about his age; but the people did not care much for +this. The Phœnix was given a place above the throne. And not only +that, but upon that very day the Prince of Percan, son of Shahtah the +Great, the former king, was throned king and took for his queen the +beautiful Isal, daughter of a woodman. He wore the Old Brown Coat, and +it fitted him very well; it took the Sixteen Coat-Tails only an hour, +with all their care, to get it upon him. When it was nightfall, the +Phœnix came majestically down from his high perch, and hovering for a +few minutes about the King and Queen, gave them a great deal of good +advice which they could not understand, and then sailed grandly away, +joined the Tufters in the woods, and flew back to his eyrie, far off. In +the Palace lived the Prince and his beautiful Queen, the good Isal.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="The_Sacrifice" id="The_Sacrifice"></a>The Sacrifice.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 276px;"> +<img src="images/illus-199.jpg" width="276" height="400" style="margin-top: -2em;" alt="" title="T" /> +</div> + +<p style="margin-top: 3.5em;">HE Prince and Isal had now been married nearly five years, so that Isal +was then eighteen years old and even more beautiful than when the prince +found her in the garden. The royal family was at first displeased that +the Prince should marry a peasant maiden, but Isal was so good that one +could not help loving her, and soon every one said that there never had +been such a Queen in Percan. As for the Prince, he loved her more than +the whole of his kingdom; he always called her his Morning-Star. And +Isal loved the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> Prince and was very happy in the palace where she had +everything she could desire; but often in the five years did she +remember the woodman's hut on the bank of the great blue river where she +had spent her childhood; often she thought of her father living there +alone, reft of his little daughter, the one comfort of his life. Then +would the Prince come with his kind love, and quite drive away such sad +thoughts. As the years went by she thought less of her former life; +indeed it was so different from the present that she persuaded herself +that she had died in her cot the night after finding the Old Brown Coat, +that now she was in the Paradise she had heard her father tell about, +and that the birds—the Phœnix and the Tufters—were the winged +spirits that brought her there.</p> + +<p>The Phœnix was now very nearly five hundred years old; in a few weeks +he would have to build his nest and die. The Tufters too were five years +older; but five years makes a great deal more difference with them than +it does with the Phœnix. It makes them much wiser; even the one that +had been rash was quite prudent now. They waited still on the old bird<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> +and brought him all the information they could find about the affairs of +the world.</p> + +<p>"I wonder how the Old Brown Coat does," said the Tufter who had once +been rash, as they all stood round the Phœnix one night. "That was a +very grand event we brought about—the marriage of the Prince with Isal. +If it had not been for us, Isal might still have been only a woodman's +daughter and not a Queen at all!" Here the Phœnix spoke, but with a +very muffled voice; his age prevented him from talking very loud or much +at a time; he was apt to repeat himself, too, sometimes, and to ramble +in his remarks. But the Tufters always listened very respectfully to +whatever he had to say: he was so old and so wise; everything he said +would bear reflection.</p> + +<p>"You are a goose. My great-great-great grandfather made the Old Brown +Coat. He was called Phœnix the Tailor. The world is growing very +degenerate. I am five hundred years old very nearly. I don't know what +will become of it when I die. The Prince is very well, but he did not +know me when he saw me in the garden. I was respected, though. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> +gardener knew me, and the people shouted. My great—"</p> + +<p>The Phœnix was going on with some of his reminiscences, or perhaps +beginning again, when just at this point there was a rustling in the +bushes, and in burst the oldest of the Tufters who had been away hunting +for news. All the rest bustled about him as he smoothed his feathers to +make his manners to the Phœnix.</p> + +<p>"I have some very important news!" began he, with great dignity. "Isal's +father, the woodman is dying."</p> + +<p>"Is he, indeed!" exclaimed the rest in chorus, except the Phœnix, who +stood with one eye shut, painfully distracted between the desire to +administer a rebuke and to hear further.</p> + +<p>"That may be," said he, finally, "but you should not have interrupted me +while I was speaking. Besides you have not told us yet the particulars."</p> + +<p>"I was flying up the river," proceeded the eldest Tufter, respectfully, +"when I happened to recollect little Isal, and how we brought her away +from her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> house. I was passing the very spot, so I just flew in for a +moment, and there I saw the woodman, her father, lying upon his bed very +sick. There was no one with him."</p> + +<p>"How sad!" said Rosedrop, mournfully.</p> + +<p>"The cot from which we took Isal," added the Tufter, "was there still, +just as we left it, in precisely the same spot."</p> + +<p>"How remarkable!" said the rash Tufter, who had become prudent.</p> + +<p>While all this cackling was going on, the Phœnix maintained a stiff +silence. At last he stroked his beak with a claw. "Hush!" said the +second Tufter, "we shall hear something now." And surely the Phœnix +did speak.</p> + +<p>"Children, Isal must know of this. We took her away on the Old Brown +Coat. My great-great-great grandfather made the coat. He was called +Phœnix the Tailor." It was very hard for the Phœnix to avoid +speaking of this whenever the Old Brown Coat was mentioned, and he +continued for some time to wander upon the subject, till they all +thought he was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> through, and the Tufter, who had once been rash asked: +"And who shall tell Isal?" The Phœnix was not really through, though. +He was just in the midst of the sentence, "The world is growing very +degenerate—" only the last word stuck in his throat—and he was +exceedingly vexed that he should be interrupted by an upstart Tufter. +"You—" are a goose, he tried to say, but the difficulty in his throat +occurred again, and prevented any word beyond the first, and the Tufter +taking it for a command to carry the news—he was too quick +sometimes,—set off for the palace as fast as his wings could carry him.</p> + +<p>"How provoking!" said the oldest; "he will spoil it all with his +rashness!" The Phœnix now recovered himself, and having finished his +two broken sentences together, "degenerate—are a goose," for he never +left anything undone, told Rosedrop to fly faster and carry the news +before the other. Rosedrop sped swiftly, and overtaking her brother, +went with him in company and soon persuaded him, for he was a +good-natured fellow, to let her undertake the message. So when they +reached the palace garden, while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> her brother remained without, Rosedrop +flew in at the open window where she had tapped nearly five years ago, +and hovering over Isal as she lay asleep, told her the sad message, and +flying out rejoined her bother.</p> + +<p>"Did she hear you?" asked he.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said Rosedrop. "I told her all about it, and she looked very +sad indeed. How sorry I am for her. I am sure I shall feel dreadfully +when the Phœnix dies."</p> + +<p>Now Isal really did hear all that Rosedrop told her; for as the Tufter +flew through the open window, a suggestion entered the open window of +her mind as she lay asleep, and this is what it showed her:—A lonely +woodman's hut in the forest upon the bank of a great blue river; in the +hut a solitary man, pale and thin, worn out with sickness and sorrow +stretched upon a bed; not a living thing about the house; the axe lying +rusty from disuse by the trunk of a fallen tree; one little bed deserted +in the other corner of the room, toward which the sick man is turned +with longing look, while his lips move but refuse to speak<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> the name his +heart dwells upon. And just as the Tufter flew out, having told her +message, so did the picture vanish from Isal's mind, and in its place +followed others in quick succession, all of them centering about one +person—a maiden, who is now playing by the same hut, now surrounded +mysteriously by strange birds, now waking to find herself kissed by a +noble-looking man, who marries her and makes her Queen of the land. With +this she awoke, and saw the Prince leaning over her.</p> + +<p>"What were you dreaming about, Morning-Star, that made you look so sad +just before I kissed you?" said the Prince. Then Isal told him her +dream.</p> + +<p>"My father is sick unto death," she said sorrowfully, when she had +finished, "and longs to see his daughter." But the Prince comforted her, +and told her that he would send messengers who should travel over the +whole country to find her father and bring her word of him. So the +messengers were sent out in search of the woodman. But the Prince did +not know nor Isal, that he lived so far away and so hidden<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> that it +would not be possible to reach him before he died.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the Phœnix and the Tufters kept watch over the whole +matter. The eldest Tufter returned one night from a visit to the palace +where he had seen his friend, the Rabbit. "The Peacock," said he, "would +have nothing to do with me since I took to calling on the Rabbit; but I +am not sorry, for he is very tiresome and is for ever talking about his +tail. The Rabbit is much more sensible, though he has some strange +tastes. Do you know, he is very fond of chewing parsley? Is it not +queer? I asked the Rabbit what the news was. He said he would ask the +Mouse and proposed to me to go and call on him. I was afraid to at +first; the Mouse is so learned; but then the Rabbit is on very good +terms with him and promised to introduce me. So I got the Squirrel to +brush me down—he always carries a whisk brush with him and is very +obliging—and went with the Rabbit to call on the Mouse. The Rabbit did +not seem at all disconcerted. He was chewing parsley all the way; but I +was trying to think what it was proper to say upon entering.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span>"</p> + +<p>"The Mouse lives in a very small house; he had to come out to the door to +us; it was quite impossible for us to enter. He looked very venerable +indeed, and very learned. His hair was brushed back over his forehead, +and his whiskers were grown very long. I noticed the Rabbit wore his so; +he told me afterwards that it was the fashion among learned men, and +though he did not presume to call himself a learned man, yet he thought +it best to be in the fashion. I hardly knew what to say to the Mouse; I +had been trying all the way to think of some book I might mention, but +the Rabbit opened the way very easily. He told the Mouse where I was +from and mentioned my connection with you, sir," (turning to the +Phœnix; the Phœnix bowed—"Yes, I am well known," he said.) "Ah, +indeed," said the Mouse. "The Phœnix? yes. I came across an account +of the Phœnicians in a book the other day; the book was elegantly +bound; the Phœnicians are a very enterprising race."</p> + +<p>"The Phœnicians! indeed!" broke in the angry Phœnix. "There is but +one Phœnix. I am the only Phœnix, I am nearly five hundred years +old. My<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> great-great-great-grandfather made the Old Brown Coat." And he +went on with his reminiscences till he was quite exhausted. After that +the Tufter hardly dared mention the Mouse, and, indeed, began to suspect +that he was not so very learned after all; but he proceeded to state how +he had gathered that the Prince had sent messengers to find the woodman, +Isal's father.</p> + +<p>"It is in vain," said the Phœnix, who had recovered himself, and was +really growing very wise, as the days of his life neared their end. "It +is in vain, children, you must go again to the Palace—all of you. I +would go myself, but I am getting too old, and besides, I must begin to +gather my spices and make my dying nest. This you must tell Isal. Her +father longs to see her once before he dies. Yet if she chooses to go to +him she must die after him, for she has worn the Old Brown Coat. If she +remains with the Prince she shall be happy for many years, and be +beloved by her husband and king. If she decide to go, then do you four +bear her away to her father."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p> + +<p>Away flew the Tufters to the Palace. Again did Rosedrop fly through the +window, and hovering over the bed, unknown to the Prince give her +message to the sleeping Isal. Again, and at the same time, did a +suggestion fly through the open window of the Queen's mind, showing her +in succession two pictures:—In one she saw a maiden sitting by the +bedside of a dying man in a lonely woodman's hut by the banks of a great +blue river; the woodman's eyes are bent on her and all his pain and +sorrow are gone; gently he closes his life in the sleep of death; and +the maiden alone, with only the dead man upon the bed, sickens also, and +lying upon the other cot, slowly, painfully closes her life with no one +to hold her hand. Then Isal saw another picture—a Queen in the Palace +honored by the people, having everything that she could desire, dearly +loved and cherished by the King her husband, and living thus for many +years, and when dying at last, wept over by all and kissed at the very +moment of death by the good Prince. Then Isal woke up just as before by +the kiss of the Prince, who was leaning over her. "You are sad again, my +Morn<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span>ing-Star," said he. "Be comforted; your father will be found." But +Isal did not tell him her dream this time.</p> + +<p>"What is she going to do?" asked the rather forward Tufter of Rosedrop, +as she came forth through the window again.</p> + +<p>"She is perplexed," said Rosedrop. "We will come for her answer +to-morrow night." All that day did Isal think over the two pictures she +had seen, until at last the second one quite faded from view; only the +first remained. "I will go," said she to herself, "even if I must die." +The next night when the Tufters came for the answer, they found the +window closed. Rosedrop tapped upon it with her beak. Isal within heard +it. "It is the summons for me to go," said she. She leaned over the +prince; he was asleep; she longed to give him a last kiss. "I will kiss +him very gently," said she, but first she opened the window. There were +the strange birds again; the beautiful one upon the sill; the rest +hovering close by; she went back and lightly kissed the Prince. "Quick!" +she said to herself as he stirred. "He is awaking!" She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> hastened to the +window; she stood upon the sill; the birds floated in front of her, and +letting herself sink upon their soft downy backs, and throwing her arms +round Rosedrop's neck, off they flew, swifter than the rushing wind.</p> + +<p>The Prince awakened by the kiss and the rustling opened his eyes only to +see his Queen rising like a white cloud to the sky.</p> + +<p>"Ah! she is gone! my Morning-Star has returned again to the sky!" he +wailed, and stretching his supplicating hands he cried, "Come back to +me! My Love! My Morning-Star!" And Isal heard him as she was swiftly +borne, and her hot tears fell on Rosedrop's neck.</p> + +<p>Just when the morning-star disappeared from the sky before the dawn, the +Tufters laid Isal upon her cot in the woodman's hut, and fluttering +around her for a moment, they flew away to the Phœnix, leaving +Rosedrop only to keep watch. In the hut upon his pallet lay stretched +the lonely woodman, who was dying. Day and night did Isal sit by his +side and hold his hand while he gazed in her face, too weak<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> to speak. +Slowly the pain and the sorrow left his face, and instead came a smile +of holy joy which never left him. For seven days and seven nights did +Isal sit beside him. Then he died, and she, just able to reach her old +cot, lay down upon it, weak and suffering. For seven days and seven +nights did she lie there, racked with pain. This was a sad exchange for +her happy life in the Palace; but she never repented; she could not when +she saw the dead face with its heavenly smile still upon it.</p> + +<p>"Isal is fast dying," said little Rosedrop sadly, as she flew back from +the hut to the Phœnix and her brothers. "Oh! she suffers dreadfully."</p> + +<p>"That must be so," said the Phœnix wisely. "It could not be +otherwise." The Phœnix now was so old that in an hour he would die. +He had gathered his spice and built his nest; already had he taken his +seat upon it, and was awaiting the last moment of the five hundredth +year, while the Tufters stood around sorrowfully, each upon one leg, +manifesting their respect to the old bird by making their manners +constantly; it pleased the Phœnix so much. And the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> grand bird as he +neared his end grew more and more wise and prophetic.</p> + +<p>"Rosedrop!" said he to his favorite Tufter. "Go quickly to Isal's cot. +She will die; but when she dies, watch for her spirit and bear it hither +ere I die." Swiftly sped Rosedrop to the hut by the river. There she +watched by Isal's bedside; saw her go through terrible suffering, but at +last the struggle was over, and Rosedrop saw through her tears, which +she shed for the first and only time, Isal's spirit floating upward. She +clasped it to her bosom and darted to the Phœnix.</p> + +<p>"It is the hour!" said the Bird, before Rosedrop had returned. "My life +is closed. I have lived five hundred years." He plucked a golden feather +from his breast, and lighted the nest of spices on which he reclined. +The smoke rose slowly, enveloping him in it, while the Tufters, overcome +with grief, forgot their manners, and stood on both legs peering into +the smoke. At that moment Rosedrop, with the spirit of Isal, darted into +the circle. The Phœnix saw her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Lay the spirit in the nest," said he, and Rosedrop heedless of the fire +which burned her beautiful body, laid Isal's spirit in the nest by the +Phœnix.</p> + +<p>"It is enough!" said the Phœnix. "I am perishing, but another +Phœnix shall arise and the spirit of Isal shall live in it. Isal is +the Phœnix that is to be. I die but she shall live."</p> + +<p>As he said it, there was a smouldering in the nest; a heap of embers +enveloped in smoke lay before the Tufters; in a moment the smoke parted +and out of the embers soared with crimson and golden plumage the new +Phœnix!</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>But the new Phœnix remembered still the life that belonged to him +when he was a maiden. The Phœnix, moreover, is a most wonderful bird. +It can change itself into many shapes. Every New Year's Day did this +Phœnix visit the Palace and present itself at the Festivity of the +Old Brown Coat, and every New Year's night, after the Sixteen Coat Tails +had robed and unrobed the lonely Prince with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> greatest care, did the +Phœnix visit the Prince alone, and for one night he returned to the +old shape of the beautiful Isal. And when the Prince died he was changed +into a palm-tree, and the Phœnix dwelt in the branches.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/illus-216.jpg" width="500" height="331" alt="" title="chapter endpiece" /> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h2><br /><br />New Year's Day in the Garden.<br /><br /></h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span><br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h2><a name="Morning" id="Morning"></a>Morning.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 281px;"> +<img src="images/illus-219.jpg" width="281" height="400" style="margin-top: -2em;" alt="" title="I" /> +</div> + +<p>T may not generally be known, yet so it is, that New Year's Day in the +Garden varies each year, but is established by one sure sign—the +blooming of the Lilac. When this takes place it is the custom of the +inhabitants of the Garden to celebrate their New Year's Day. In the year +when this happened which I am about to tell, the Lilac was later than +usual, and there was great impatience felt at its slowness. Some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> of the +younger ones, in fact, had serious doubts whether it would come to +flower at all, and that they agreed would be a calamity, but the older +ones bade them wait, for the time certainly would come. The old +Buttonwood tree that stood in the corner of the Garden, and who was said +to be the oldest inhabitant, grew very tiresome, for he counted up on +his branches the number of years that he had seen the Lilac blow, and +declared twenty times a day, as if he had not said it at all, that he +had never known the bush to be so tardy. But on the night before the +twentieth of May there was a plenteous shower; the next morning the sun +rose splendidly upon the fresh earth, and the Lilac sent its strong +perfume all over the Garden. It was unanimously agreed that New Year's +Day had come at last, and that there should be an unusual celebration of +it.</p> + +<p>Now listen and you shall hear how the day was celebrated. It was divided +into two parts; the first part was the morning, and was occupied after +the manner of the inhabitants of the Garden in giving and receiving +calls.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p> + +<p>Owing to the slowness of the Lilac, many of the fair ones were not so +elegantly dressed as they had hoped to be and were quite mortified; but +the shower in the night had freshened them and taken away much of their +faded appearance, so that none but the most fastidious of their visitors +could detect any failing. The Garden walks were quite lively with such +of the callers as were obliged to walk, while those that kept their +wings, and so could fly, were moving in the air in every direction. The +Bee, in his shining yellow coat, was rushing about making a great to do +and acting as if no one were of so much importance. He made his first +call upon the Rose, who was dressed in a charming robe of a +blush-colour, and who received a great deal of attention.</p> + +<p>"The compliments of the Lilac to you, my dear Miss," said he, bustling +in. "I am a business character; have fifty calls to make and so have +commenced early, as you see. What a disgraceful thing it was for the +Lilac to be so unpunctual. Really I lost all patience with it. Prompt is +my word. 'Improve each shining hour,' you know, my dear Miss, as the +poet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> somewhere says, so I bid you good-morning," and the corpulent +fellow in his yellow coat buzzed graciously to the Rose and hurried off +to pay his respects to the next on his list.</p> + +<p>As he went out, in came the Butterfly and the Moth, who made their calls +together. The Moth was clad in grey, and the Butterfly liked that, +because it set off his own brilliant colours so well.</p> + +<p>"<i>Bon jour, mademoiselle!</i>" said the Butterfly, who always spoke in a +foreign tongue when there was no need for it, and then he continued in +his own, for he was not very perfect in the foreign tongue after all. +"How charming you look this morning! What shall we do to the Lilac for +denying us so long the sight of your beauty? I say, Moth, we shall have +to attend to that fellow." The Moth, who remained in a corner merely +bowed and smiled; he was not so brilliant as his companion, and besides +was always in a state of anxiety about his coat, which was liable to be +rubbed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Butterfly," said the Rose, "the Lilac is not to blame, and the +day is all the more charming for being a little later."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It is not the day that is so charming," said the Butterfly with a +smirk. "But we have a few calls yet to make—seventy-five or a hundred, +say. Come, Moth. <i>Au revoir, Mademoiselle</i>," and they fluttered off. +"Did you see her blush, Moth, when I said that about the day not being +so charming?" said the Butterfly. "That's what they like. Halloa! there +goes that simpleton of a Humming-Bird. He thinks he's got the gayest +coat in the Garden. What a conceited fellow!"</p> + +<p>He said this loud enough for the Humming-Bird to hear, but that graceful +creature took no notice of it. He also was out, but he made only one +call, and that was to the Honeysuckle, for they were betrothed. Of +course it never would do to say what they whispered to each other.</p> + +<p>The Spring Crocus also kept open house, though she was so old that the +others said it was all affectation. But she dressed herself in a yellow +dress, which, however, did not make her look any younger. She had one +caller. It was the Grasshopper, who was clad in his major's uniform. He +came along the Gar<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span>den walk that led to the Crocus in a very formal +fashion, taking step with great precision, for he went exactly the same +distance at each spring, and halted the same length of time between the +jumps. The last spring—for he had calculated it exactly—landed him by +the Crocus. The Crocus, who had watched him coming, was highly flattered +though rather flustered. It was the first call she had received that +day, and she had even feared she might not receive any.</p> + +<p>"Your most obedient, madam," said the Grasshopper, lifting his elbow.</p> + +<p>"Yes, a very warm day," said the Crocus, not quite at her ease.</p> + +<p>"The Lilac is later than usual," continued the Grasshopper.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, the Lilac, yes," said the Dowager Crocus, "quite so,—the +Lilac, oh, yes! it is certainly very wrong. You are looking uncommonly +well, Major," and she began to recover her composure and to look less +heated.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, madam," said the Grasshopper, raising his elbow again, "and +I must say that I have never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> seen you looking better, and, if I may be +allowed to say it, younger."</p> + +<p>"Oh, la!" exclaimed the Dowager, quite confusedly and getting into a +heat again.</p> + +<p>"Do you find your company agreeable this morning?" asked the +Grasshopper, to change the subject. He referred to the calls she was +supposed to have received, but the Crocus thought he referred to +himself, for she was still a little off her balance. She was just +thinking how she could say something witty, when the Grasshopper added—</p> + +<p>"You have had a number of calls, I presume?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! a great many. I am quite tired out," said she, though she +ought not to have said so, for it was not true, and besides, it might be +construed into a piece of rudeness. But the Grasshopper knew she had had +none though he did not say so. He had nothing more to say, however, and +he bade her good morning, and jumped by measurement down the Garden +walk.</p> + +<p>This was the first year that the Pansy had received calls and she was +quite excited. She was very pret<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>tily pressed in a purple bodice with +white skirt and yellow slippers. "Some one is coming!" she exclaimed to +her mother, who was not far off. "I can hear a step on the Garden walk." +"Be composed," said her mother, "Is your bodice smooth?" She felt of it +and it was. The Red Ant and the Black Ant had come in company. The Red +Ant is a clerk and the Black Ant is his uncle and an undertaker. They +both entered at once and were graciously received. The Red Ant is so +methodical and so used to system, that he had arranged beforehand with +his uncle precisely what they should say and in what order. So the Black +Ant advanced and said quite soberly:</p> + +<p>"This is a very lovely day," and the Red Ant immediately added—</p> + +<p>"The Lilac is much later than usual this year."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it!" said the Pansy very eagerly. "I declare I thought it never +would come out. Mother told me over and over again not to be so +impatient but I did get so vexed!"</p> + +<p>"It makes very little difference with us," said the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> Red Ant whose turn +it now was; "every thing is arranged in the Hill so perfectly that +nothing can put us out. We each of us carry fifty grains of sand a day."</p> + +<p>"Oh, how severe it must be for you!" said the Pansy. "I don't believe I +ever could live so systematically. It is so nice just to enjoy the air +and the sun without thinking much about it. Don't you ever get a +holiday?"</p> + +<p>"It is my turn, you know," whispered the Undertaker to his nephew, and +the Red Ant was so systematic that he did not answer the question, for +he had forgotten to allow for it in his calculation. So the Black Ant +next said—</p> + +<p>"It makes no difference to me either. In my profession, though we cannot +of course be quite so systematic as my nephew here, yet we make it a +point to be at our post, rain or shine. Nephew, it must be time for us +to be going."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Red Ant, "it is exactly time. We allow five minutes for +each call and ten minutes between each place. Good-morning!" and they +marched<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> off and said exactly the same thing at the next place.</p> + +<p>The Pansy thought it was not quite so interesting as she expected, +though it was pretty good fun, but soon she had a call from the +Dragon-Fly, and that was worth while. So the morning went by, and was +fully occupied with giving and receiving calls. Every one professed to +have had a very good time, though the Earthworm to be sure had not +succeeded in making a single call, he moved so slowly. The Bee was +through long before noon, and boasted of it. "Prompt is my word," said +he, "I made fifty calls, at an average of fifteen calls an hour."</p> + +<p>That was the way they celebrated New Year's morning.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Evening" id="Evening"></a>Evening.</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 310px;"> +<img src="images/illus-229.jpg" width="310" height="400" style="margin-top: -2em;" alt="" title="I" /> +</div> + +<p>N the evening it was different but no less gay. Great preparations were +going on under the Lilac-Bush. Beetles had been at work all day clearing +the grass and putting things in order. At nightfall the Turtles and the +Frogs sounded the chimes, and a merry noise they made of it. The Catbird +rang only one bell. Something evidently was to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> occur. A little later +the glow-worms began to collect, and the place was illuminated. The +Lilac-Bush was hung with quantities of them, and others darted about in +the air as if they were on the most important business. The Cherry +Blossoms in the tree nearby were very curious to know what it all could +mean. One of them agreed to go and find out. He sailed down gently and +into a cluster of Lilacs.</p> + +<p>"This is the grand celebration," said they in answer to his question. +"For one night in the year the Little People are coming out for sport +before midnight. The Queen will be here, and we are to drop leaves upon +her." But the Cherry Blossom was unable to carry the news back, for the +winds were not favourable. It was as the Lilacs had said. This was the +Queen Faery's reception night, being the first night of the year, and it +was under the Lilac that she was to receive her subjects and their +gifts.</p> + +<p>At last the procession approached, attended above and at all sides by +myriads of glow-worms. Foremost came a body of Daddy-Long-Legs, who +walked marvellously fast, and cleared the way for the proces<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span>sion. Then +a band of crickets followed all in uniform, and every one kept step to +their music, though that was a difficult matter. Behind the band was the +Queen Faery driving as usual her twelve Lady-Birds, which drew her acorn +carriage; she was attended by a body-guard of Dor-Bugs, all in coats of +mail. Then came troops of Faeries, some mounted, some on foot. They bore +banners spun by the most skillful spiders and silk-worms, each company +having its own device. For there were Faeries from the woods, from the +streams, from the flags in the marshes, from the tops of the firs, from +the sea, from the inside of caves, house-faeries, church-faeries, and +gypsy faeries, that lived wherever they pleased and were always +trespassing.</p> + +<p>The fire-flies made it very light and there was no difficulty in finding +the Bush. There they halted, and when the Queen alighted she found a +delicious cushion for her to step upon; it was the messenger Cherry +Blossom which had dropped upon the ground for that purpose. The Queen's +throne was a dandelion flower and a regal throne it was. The Spider spun +a wind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span>ing staircase to the top, and stretched a canopy over it that +glittered with diamonds of dew. While she was taking her seat the +cricket band played the Throning of the Queen—one of their finest +pieces, and composed for the occasion by the largest cricket in the +band.</p> + +<p>It was now the part of all, and permitted as well to the inhabitants of +the Garden, to come up in order and be presented to the Queen, and to +offer any gifts they might wish to bring. Two of the insects commonly +called Walking-Sticks were in attendance, and were the ushers to +announce each as they came up. It was proper that the Faeries should +have the first place.</p> + +<p>These came up in companies, according to their place in the procession. +They where duly ushered into the presence of the Queen, and there was a +spokesman for each party, who made a little address and offered a gift. +The Faeries from the woods brought an anemone flower, set in dead forest +leaf, and the spokesman explained that the flower was the anticipation +of summer, and that it was fitting it should have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> such a back-ground. +The Faeries from the streams were obliged to come sitting in shells +filled with water and drawn by dragon-flies. They made a fine appearance +and brought the scale of a trout; it was more beautiful than mother of +pearl. The Faeries from the flags in the marshes brought a carpet made +of leaves of the white violet; the central figure was a marsh mallow. +The Faeries from the tops of the Firs brought a complete dinner service +made of scales of the cone. The Faeries from the sea came upon the +sea-foam, and the East Wind brought them. It made the place exceedingly +chilly, and the Queen shivered. One could smell the saltness all over +the Garden, and one of the Faeries was so overpowered by it that she +fainted. They left their present, however, which was a necklace of +crystal salt, and were off again. The Queen could not wear the necklace, +however, for it made her head ache. The Faeries from the inside of caves +came riding upon bats, and brought a stalactite made in the form of a +horse of dandelion-down, for there is a favourite story among the +Faeries in which such a horse figures. This was a very pretty piece of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> +sculpture. The house Faeries brought a beautiful shawl made of the +interwoven golden hair of the youngest child and the silver hair of her +old grandfather. The church Faeries brought a sound from the organ; it +was very solemn, and every one was quiet when it was offered. As for the +gypsy Faeries they said they had nothing to give, and so would sing a +song, which they did to the great delight of all, though the +Walking-Sticks thought it not quite becoming.</p> + +<p>The inhabitants of the Garden had been quite impatient for the Faeries +to be through, for their turn was yet to come. It would be quite +impossible to enumerate them all. The Flowers could not come themselves +but they sent their choicest perfumes, and the Miller was so obliging as +to carry for them a great many charming and delicate tints. The Bee gave +a drop of honey, but he was so loud and coarse in his way and carried so +many weapons about him that all were glad when he went. The Humming-Bird +would not come, the Honeysuckle was his Queen, he said. The Red Ant said +it was all fol-de-rol and there was no such thing as a faery in his +opinion, much less a Queen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> Faery; and he stayed in the Hill and walked +through all the passages to see that every thing was in order. The +Butterfly, poor thing! was dead, and the Black Ant of course was too +busy burying him to attend to such frivolous matters. The Grasshopper, +however, came the whole length of the Garden, and each skip was +precisely as long as the last. It took just one hundred and sixty-seven +skips to reach the Lilac Bush. His uniform looked finely, and the +Walking-Sticks rejoiced that here at last was one come who had style and +observed etiquette. It was rather formal to be sure. The Walking-Sticks +each bowed eleven times, and the Grasshopper raised his elbow so often +and with so much precision, that you would have said it was very nicely +calculated. He made a set speech which the Queen listened to, and then +he passed out again; but he left no present, perhaps he thought he had +honoured her enough by coming to pay his respects.</p> + +<p>The Faeries agreed that the reception must be all over now and that the +last of the inhabitants had come and gone; so they were ready for sport. +They did not know—how should they? that the Earth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> worm was on the way; +but he never reached the place in time; he was so blind that he lost the +road frequently. Room was now made for a dance. The Fire-flies improved +their lights and arranged them more artistically, and the Faeries took +their places. The inhabitants of the Garden could only look on. Just as +they were ready to begin, a bustling and confusion was observed among +the group of house Faeries. What could be the stir? They were evidently +very much excited, and the reason was this: One of their number, their +spokesman at the reception, was leaning against a stalk of clover and +looking up at the sky through the Lilac Bush. We think it hard to count +the stars, they are so many in number, but to a Faery who once lived +among them the stars are familiar as household faces. Thus the little +Faery was aware of a new star that at that instant appeared in the sky. +It was a very little star and rested between two larger ones, but it did +not escape his quick eye and he was now all alive with excitement.</p> + +<p>"We must lose no time!" cried he to his companions: "there is a new +star! the child is born! come!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> and they all sped to the house. One +only remained for a moment to explain it to the Queen and then followed +the rest.</p> + +<p>The event produced great commotion in the Faery circle and all looked to +the Queen to see what was to be done. The Queen instantly called her +bugler, the tame Musquito, and bade him call the scattered Faeries all +about her. So they came every one about the dandelion throne, and the +herald of the Queen—the Fly in his blue coat, made proclamation that a +child had been born and that it was a rare thing, and an excellent +fortune both to Faeries and to the child, that it would be born upon the +first day of the year. "Wherefore," he concluded, "let all the Faeries +here gathered proceed as before and accompany the Queen to the place +where the child lies, and let the gifts that have been brought to the +Queen be carried by trusty servants."</p> + +<p>So they set out as before in exactly the same order, except that the +House-Faeries and the Sea-Faeries were not there. The Daddy-long-legs +cleared the way to the door of the house, and the band of Crick<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>ets +played their sweetest air—'twas the Birth of the Daisy in fact. Arrived +at the door the Daddy-long-legs took their place in lines upon each side +of the step, and the Cricket band sate upon the scraper, for these might +not enter. But the Faeries preceded by their Queen did enter, and their +gifts went with them. They came into the room where little Janet lay. +The House-Faeries were already there with hushed movements and ordering +everything about the room. Around the bed gathered the hosts of +Faeries—even the Faeries of the stream were there, a little drier than +usual, though the House-Faeries made them keep on the outer circle.</p> + +<p>The Queen was in the centre directly over little Janet. She bent nearer +and nearer until she stood upon the forehead. She touched it with her +lips, and that was the seal by which she signified that the newborn +child of New-Year's Day was to be gifted with all that Faeries could +give. The gifts which the Queen had received that night were freely +offered to the little child. They were laid at her feet. None there saw +them for none but the Faeries and the child could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> know of them. Each +Faery, too, in the fulness of love and joy offered other gifts directly +from their own nature; the Gypsy Faeries were very generous. They +withdrew then and the Queen was left alone. She had her gift yet to +bestow. "All of these," said she, "have richly endowed this child of +New-Years Day." She looked at the gifts and knew that there was one +thing wanting, yet she dreaded to bestow it. "It must be," she murmured, +and kissing once more the brow of the child, dropped a tear upon it. +Then she too left. The gifts were complete but the Queen was sad.</p> + +<p>"She is a child of earth," she said, as she turned away; "it must be +so."</p> + +<p>The festivities of the day were finished and all was quiet in the +Garden. The moon now rose and soon its light touched the Lilac Bush. At +the touch the sweet perfume of the Lilac rose like a cloud of incense +from the Bush. The air was filled with it, but the Bush was now +deserted. "It was a great gift," it said, "that I should be permitted to +have so much enjoyment. I am indeed happy, though twelve long<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> months +must pass before I bloom again, and these blossoms now upon me have lost +their fragrance and shall fall to the ground. Yes, it is sweet to live, +even though one's flowers die and one's fragrance is lost."</p> + +<p>But the fragrance was not lost. It rose higher and higher; the clouds +kept it not back and it ascended even to heaven.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/illus-240.jpg" width="500" height="312" alt="" title="chapter endpiece" /> +</div> + +<div class="centerbox bbox"> + <h3>Horace E. Scudder</h3> + + <p style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.5in">JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL: A Biography. With portraits and other + illustrations, an Appendix, and a full Bibliography. 2 vols. +</p> + <p style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.5in">MEN AND LETTERS. Essays in Characterization and Criticism.</p> + + <p style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.5in">CHILDHOOD IN LITERATURE AND ART: With some Observations on + Literature for Children.</p> + + <p style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.5in">NOAH WEBSTER. In American Men of Letters. With Portrait.</p> + + <p style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.5in">GEORGE WASHINGTON. An Historical Biography. In Riverside School + Library.</p> + + <p style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.5in">THE DWELLERS IN FIVE SISTERS COURT. A Novel.</p> + + <p style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.5in">STORIES AND ROMANCES.</p> + + <p style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.5in">DREAM CHILDREN. Illustrated.</p> + + <p style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.5in">SEVEN LITTLE PEOPLE AND THEIR FRIENDS. Illustrated.</p> + + <p style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.5in">STORIES FROM MY ATTIC. For Children. Illustrated.</p> + + <p style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.5in">BOSTON TOWN. The Story of Boston told to Children. Illustrated.</p> + + <p style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.5in">THE CHILDREN'S BOOK. A Collection of the Best Literature for + Children. New Holiday Edition. Illustrated.</p> + + <p style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.5in">THE BOOK OF FABLES.</p> + + <p style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.5in">THE BOOK OF FOLK STORIES.</p> + + <p style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.5in">THE BOOK OF FABLES AND FOLK STORIES. School Edition. Illustrated.</p> + + <p style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.5in">THE BOOK OF LEGENDS.</p> + + <p style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.5in">THE BODLEY BOOKS. Including Doings of the Bodley Family in Town and + Country, The Bodleys Telling Stories, The Bodleys on Wheels, The + Bodleys Afoot, Mr. Bodley Abroad, The Bodley Grandchildren and + their Journey in Holland, The English Bodleys, and The Viking + Bodleys. Illustrated. Eight vols.</p> + +<p class="center">HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY<br /></p> + +<p class="center">Boston and New York<br /></p></div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SEVEN LITTLE PEOPLE AND THEIR FRIENDS***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 24697-h.txt or 24697-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/6/9/24697">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/9/24697</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>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. 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Friends, by +Horace Elisha Scudder + + +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: Seven Little People and their Friends + + +Author: Horace Elisha Scudder + + + +Release Date: February 26, 2008 [eBook #24697] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SEVEN LITTLE PEOPLE AND THEIR +FRIENDS*** + + +E-text prepared by Julia Miller, Joseph Cooper, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 24697-h.htm or 24697-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/6/9/24697/24697-h/24697-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/6/9/24697/24697-h.zip) + + + + + +SEVEN LITTLE PEOPLE AND THEIR FRIENDS + +by + +HORACE E. SCUDDER + + + + + + + +Boston and New York +Houghton Mifflin Company + +The Riverside Press Cambridge + +Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1862, +by Horace E. Scudder +in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the +Southern District of New York. + + +[Illustration: Shahtah gets the coat on with difficulty.--_See p. +178._] + + +The Seven Little People who have lived with me for the last two or three +years, and with whom I have been wont to entertain my friends among the +children, are now about to leave their quiet home and make their +appearance in society. The experience which they severally have enjoyed, +whether under the sea or in Percanian palaces, or on desert islands, or +upon birth-nights, has perhaps hardly fitted them for associating with +the world's people; and yet, I trust, they will find some glad to +receive them, and hear them tell of the friends whom they found in their +various wanderings. It is true that two of these Little People have no +friends at all, but then it was their own choice, for did they not +deliberately cast themselves away, and abjure all society but that of +their mute companion? It will be found also that in one of these Stories +there are no Little People, but it is no more than just that the Friends +should for once be allowed their drama to themselves. All of these Seven +are the children of my brain, and I am somewhat loth to let them go so +far from me; but if they find no hospitable fireside to receive them, +they will at least always be welcome at mine. + + + + +CONTENTS + + THE THREE WISHES + WISH THE FIRST--Under the Sea 11 + WISH THE SECOND--On the Mountain 37 + WISH THE THIRD AND LAST--In the Cottage 49 + + A CHRISTMAS STOCKING WITH A HOLE IN IT + I. The Stocking is Hung 57 + II. Midnight 71 + III. Kleiner Traum Visits Peter Mit 79 + IV. Kleiner Traum Visits David Morgridge 88 + V. Morgridge Klaus 92 + + THE LITTLE CASTAWAYS 99 + + A FAERY SURPRISE PARTY 133 + + THE ROCK ELEPHANT 149 + + THE OLD BROWN COAT + I. The Gift 175 + II. The Sacrifice 199 + + NEW YEAR'S DAY IN THE GARDEN 219 + + +THE THREE WISHES + +BESSIE'S STORY + + + + +Wish the First.--Under the Sea. + +[Illustration] + + +Little Effie Gilder's porridge did taste good! and so it ought; for +beside that Mother Gilder made it, and Mother Gilder's porridge was +always just right, Effie was eating it on her seat upon the sea-shore in +front of her father's house. The sun was just going down and the tide +was rising, so that the little waves came tumbling up on the beach, as +if they were racing, each one falling headlong on the sand in the +scramble to get there first; and then slipping back again, there would +be left a long streak of white foam just out of reach of Effie. She was +sitting on what she called her chair, but it was a chair without legs or +back or arms--only a great flat stone, where she used to come every +sunshiny afternoon and eat her bowl of porridge. + +It was smoking-hot--that porridge! and she was eating away with a great +relish, holding the bowl in her lap and drumming upon it with her +drumstick of a spoon. I wish you could have seen her as she sat there, +with her hat falling off and the sun touching her hair and turning the +rich auburn into a golden colour. But somebody did see her; for just +before the sun went down, Effie spied an old man coming along the beach +to the place where she sat. "That must be Uncle Ralph," thought she, +"coming home from fishing." "No," she said; as he came nearer, "it +isn't, it's Granther Allen." "Why no! it isn't Granther; who can it be? +what a queer old man!" + +[Illustration: "Effie spied an old man coming along the beach."] + +By this time the old man had come quite near. He was a very old man. +His hair was long and as white as snow; he was so bent over that as he +leaned upon his smooth stout cane, his head almost touched the knob on +the top of it; and it kept wagging sidewise, as if he were saying "No" +all the time. He had on a long grey coat almost the colour of his hair, +and it reached down to his feet on which was a pair of shoes so covered +with dust that they were of the same colour as his coat; and his hat was +the oddest of all! it was very high and peaked, and looked as if it had +been rubbed in the flour barrel before he put it on. + +This old man came up toward Effie very slowly, his head shaking all the +time and his feet dragging one after the other as if he could hardly +reach her. Effie began to be frightened, but when he spoke to her it was +with such a sweet musical voice that she thought she had never heard +anything half so beautiful. + +"My little child," said he, "I am very tired; I have come a long way +to-day and have had nothing to eat since morning. Will you give me some +of your porridge that looks so nice?" + +"Oh yes! sir," said Effie, jumping up and giving him the bowl. "But +there isn't much left. Won t you come into the house and mother will +give you some bread." + +"Oh, no! my little girl," said the old man. "I do not need anything more +than this porridge to make me strong again;" and as he spoke, he raised +himself up and stood as straight as his own smooth stick that his hand +hardly rested on; and his head stopped wagging, and he stood there a +tall old man with a beautiful face and such a beautiful voice as he +asked again: + +"What is your name, my little girl?" + +"Effie Gilder, sir. And this is my birth-day; I'm six years old to-day." + +"Six years old to-day! and what shall I give you, little Effie, on this +your birth-day? I love all good little children, and you were good to me +to give me your porridge. Little Effie, I am going to let you wish three +things, but you may only wish one thing at a time. One thing to-day, and +another when your next birth-day comes, and the last when the birth-day +after that comes. Now tell me what you wish most of all." + +Effie looked at him in wonder. "What! really? have any thing she wanted +for the asking?" + +"Yes," said the old man; "but you must ask it before the sun goes down." + +Effie looked at the sun; it had nearly touched the water and looked like +a great red ball, and she thought it would go down, clear, into the +water, as she had so often seen it, without any clouds around it. + +"I wish,--" said she, "let me see what I wish! oh, I wish that I might go +down to the bottom of the ocean and see all the beautiful shells and the +fishes, and every thing that's going on down there!" When she said it, +the little waves laughed as they came scampering up to her, as if they +said--"What a droll idea!" + +"You shall go," said the old man, "before many more suns have set. And +next year when your birth-day comes round, I will come again for your +second wish. Farewell, my little child." + +Effie looked at him, and lo! he was quite bent over again, and his head +was shaking harder than ever, as if he said "No, no, no," all the while; +then she looked at the sun to see it go down, clear, into the water, but +about it were clouds of gold and crimson, and the sun just peeped out +behind them, as behind bars, for a moment, and then went down covered by +the clouds into the black waters; and in a moment or two, as she stood +watching, the beautiful clouds were grey and sombre and spread in a +long, low line along the horizon. + +"Effie! Effie! come into the house!" she heard her mother calling; and +there was Mrs. Gilder, standing in the door-way with her gown tucked up +around her, and an apron on, which was the most wonderful apron for +pockets you ever saw! I should not dare to say how many pockets it had, +for fear you would not believe me, but if you had seen how many things +she kept in them, you would think with me, that there never was such a +wonderful apron. + +"Come here, Effie," said she, and diving into one of her apron pockets +she pulled out a little parcel. "See what I've brought you from the +village for a birth-day present;" and she unrolled the paper and showed +her a little candy dog; his body was white, striped blue and red, and +his short tail stood straight up, which was more than the little dog +could do, for when he was put on the table, instead of standing on his +four legs like respectable dogs, he fell over on his side. Effie took +the dog, but did not seem half so glad to get it as her mother thought +she would, and even forgot to thank her for it. + +"Oh, mother!" said she, "did you see that real old man just now, with +such long white hair, and a white coat that came way down to his heels, +and his head went just so"--shaking her own, "and oh! he told me I might +have any thing I wanted, and I said I wanted to go down to the bottom of +the ocean, and he said I should, and he's coming again on my next +birth-day, and I am to wish for something again. Do you think he really +can take me to the bottom of the sea?" + +"Nonsense! child. It's some old crazy man. I wonder you didn't run away +from him. Come into the house, it's time for you to go to bed. And bring +your dog along with you. You mustn't eat it. It's only to play with." + +"I hate that nasty little dog!" said Effie, and her pretty face became +twisted into a pucker, "and I don't want to go to bed." + +"Tut, tut! Puss," said Father Gilder, who was smoking his pipe by the +fire. "What! naughty on your birth-day? I thought you were going to be +good always after this. I guess she's tired, mother." + +Effie's pouting was crying by this time, and Mother Gilder brought a +handkerchief out of another of her pockets, and wiping the child's face, +led her to her little cot and put her to bed with the little dog where +she could see it when she woke up, lying stiff on his side with his tail +straight up in the air. + +Father Gilder shook his head. "'T won't do, mother," said he, "we can't +have little Effie a cross child. Bless me! why, my pipe's out! where's +some tobacco?" + +"Here," said Mrs. Gilder, plunging her hand into another of her +wonderful apron's pockets and fishing out some tobacco, and then diving +into another for matches, filling and lighting her old man's pipe. They +looked at the little child lying in her crib, and thought now they would +do any thing in the world to make her happy and good. She was fast +asleep now, and her little face had become untied--for you know it was +in a knot when she lay down--and now she was smiling in her sleep. +Perhaps she was dreaming about the old man with the beautiful voice, and +thinking she saw him again. + +The next day, Effie was playing on the beach, picking up the shells and +making little holes in the sand, watching to see the water come up and +fill them, when she remembered the old man she had seen the day before, +and she said to herself, "I wish he would come and take me down to the +bottom of the ocean!" when, lo! just as she had wished it, the queerest +little man came walking out of the water to where she stood. He was the +funniest looking little man, I'll be bound, you ever saw. He was not +more than three feet high, and he had a hump-back--so humped that it +looked almost like a wide horn coming out of his back. And he was +dressed entirely in green; just as green as sea-weed, and to tell the +truth, his clothes were made of sea-weed when you came to look at them +closely; all woven of green sea-weed, and on the hump, his coat, which +was made to fit it, was stuffed with soft sea grass so that it looked +like a cushion. His feet were great flat feet, and his hands were +almost as large as his feet; and as for his legs, they were so crooked +and so covered with barnacles, that you never would have known them for +legs anywhere else. He had on a cap made of seal-skin with two ends +bobbing behind. + +He came right out of the water and stood before Effie, dripping with +wet, and bowing, and smiling, and scraping and twitching his cap, as +much as to say, "Your most obedient servant, Miss, and what can I do for +you this morning?" and he did say out aloud, "It's all right! Get up +there"--pointing to his hump--"and I will carry you down safely, little +maiden!" + +"But I shall get wet!" laughed Effie. + +"Oh, no!" said he, "I'll cover you up." So he stooped down, but he +didn't have very far to stoop, he was so short; and she got on top of +the hump and held on by the ends of the seal-skin cap that were dangling +behind. The little man put his hands in his pockets and pulled out +bunches of sea-weed and covered her up with it, and tied her on with +long string of sea-grass, until she was quite safe, and then waded +straight into the water. + +The beach sloped quickly and the little man was short, so that in a few +strides the water was up to the hump on which Effie was sitting. Then +the little girl began to be frightened and shut her eyes tight, and when +she heard the water splashing about them, she wanted to cry out, but she +couldn't and held on tight to the bobs of the seal-skin cap. Then she +felt the water rushing over their heads, but still the little sea-green +man went striding over the ground, putting out his flat hands at his +side, as if they were oars, and seeming to push the water away as he +went swiftly forward. At first Effie could hear the water overhead, +tumbling and rolling about and rising up and down; then it became +quieter, and finally it was perfectly still, except when some fish would +dart by them, just grazing the hump and disturbing the water a little. + +Now, when every thing was so quiet, she began slowly to raise her +eyelids a little, until she had her eyes wide open and was staring about +her. She seemed to be looking through green glass, and could not see +very distinctly, but every once in a while some dim fish would move +beside her; and as her eyes got more used to the place, all things +became clearer, and soon she saw that on both sides of her and behind, +there was a multitude of fishes of all sizes. They swam beside her, the +older and bigger ones moving very sedately, and keeping the same order; +but the little frisky fishes would tumble around in great glee, and come +darting up to Effie, putting their cold noses up to her face and then go +racing back, giggling and whipping their tails about in a fine frolic; +and the awkward, bungling, good-natured dolphins, would come tumbling in +among the steady fishes and make the greatest commotion, almost +upsetting little Effie two or three times, and then go bouncing off, +shaking their fat sides with laughter. There was an old sword-fish, that +seemed to be a kind of special constable, who kept going round and +round, pricking the dolphins whenever he got a chance and frightening +the little fishes almost out of their senses; as often as he made his +appearance, with that long sword of his sticking out, such a scampering +as there would be! and how the wee fishes would try to hide behind the +dolphins, and how the dolphins would slap them with their fins, and go +rolling in among the steady fishes, as if they were the most quiet, +well-disposed, respectable fishes that ever were. Oh! how they frolicked +and tumbled about the little sea-green man with Effie on his back! Effie +shouted and clapped her hands in great glee, and tried to hop up and +down on the little man's hump, but she was so tied down that she +couldn't, so she kept digging her toes into his back, and twitching the +bobs of the seal-skin cap, till he got going at a terrible pace, so fast +that it was as much as the fishes and dolphins could do to keep up with +him, without playing by the way! + +Now, after they had gone what seemed to Effie a great way, every thing +became clearer, and the little man shortened his pace and began +arranging his cap, which Effie had pulled out of shape, and smoothing +down his sea-weed clothes; the fishes all went slowly along in their +regular places, only the little fishes behind would teaze the dolphins, +and the sword-fish looked as stately as the old fellow could, and gave +some serious digs at the dolphins whenever they showed signs of being +unruly; and lastly, two or three flying-fish shot off in advance of the +rest, and the procession moved slowly on. + +"What is coming, I wonder!" thought Effie. Then she looked all about her +and over the little man's shoulder to see what was in front; and away +off in the distance she saw the dim outline of something that looked +like a gate-way. And as they came nearer, sure enough it was a gate-way, +and when they came up to it she saw the pillars, made of beautiful white +coral, and the gate itself made of a whale's skin, polished and studded +with shark's teeth as white as ivory. The little man stopped before the +gate, which was shut, and the sword-fish came forward in the most +pompous manner, and knocked with his sword upon the coral posts. + +"Who comes here?" asked a voice within. "I demand it in the name of the +Queen of the Ocean Deeps." + +"I come," said the little sea-green man, "I, the servant of the Queen of +the Ocean Deeps bearing with me the earth-born child. I crave +admittance in the name of the Queen." + +At that the gates swung open and the procession moved in. Once through +the gate-way, where sat the porter--a hermit crab--the road, paved with +lovely shells, wound about, and Effie held her breath to see how +beautiful it was. They moved along the shining floor, and by-and-by they +came to another gate, more beautiful than the first, where they went +through the same form, only the porter within, just before he swung open +the doors, said: + +"Enter, servant of the Queen of the Ocean Deeps, bearing the earth-born +child, and ye his attendants, but let no one enter who does not the +bidding of our good-loving Queen." As each one passed in, the porter +said: + + "When thou comest through this gate, + Leave behind thee sinful hate. + He that can not--let him wait." + +And each one answered, else the porter would not have let him in, + + "There is no thing in all the sea, + That I or hate or hateth me. + I only hate the sin I flee." + +When it came to the little fishes' turn, the old constable sword-fish +looked sharply at them, but they answered like the rest in a demure way, +with a side wink at the dolphins; those lubberly fellows blundered +through somehow, and looked sheepish enough at saying it so poorly. Last +of all came the sword-fish, who seemed to feel hurt that he should be +asked the same question, and gruffly answered, whereupon the gate was +shut and they all passed along. + +Then they came in sight of the palace of the Queen. What a sight that +was! The walls were of pure coral, and all about the doors and windows +were shells of every variety of colour and form. There were arches and +pillars set around with shells, and in the corners grew graceful +sea-weed, that clung to the palace and waved to and fro its long, soft +leaves. Little Effie looked up and saw that the building was not +finished, and that all around her there was a continual hum of movement. +Then they entered the door of the palace and passed through long +galleries, until they came to a great and beautiful door and heard +within voices singing. A porter sat behind this door also, and asked the +same questions, and they all answered as before, in one voice, only they +spoke more softly. Now they stood in the great hall of the palace, and +lo! there was the Queen herself, sitting on her throne, and about her +were her maids of honour. It was they who had been singing, but who +stopped when the procession came in. They were sitting at wheels and +long stone looms, spinning and weaving wondrous robes of purple and +scarlet and green; the Queen herself was weaving a gorgeous garment of +all the most beautiful colours. + +The little man stopped in front of the Queen and made three of his +comical little bows, and all the attendant fishes bobbed their heads up +and down; the dolphins gave some awkward, bungling shakes of the whole +body that made the little fishes almost burst into laughing, and the old +fellow with a sword looked exceedingly serious and made the most +dignified bow imaginable. Then the Queen spoke: + +"My faithful servant, hast thou obeyed my commands and brought the child +of earth?" + +"She is here, my good-loving Queen," said he. "What is thy will with +her?" When little Effie heard this, she began to be frightened and to +think--"Oh, dear! what is she going to do with me?" but the Queen looked +so good that she felt at ease again and listened for what she would say. + +"Take the child," said she, "and show her the beauties of my palace, and +let her see the wonderful works that are done here; answer all her +questions and bring her back to me again." Then they all bowed again. +And as they moved away, Effie heard the song that the maidens at the +wheels and looms sang. + + +The Song of the Sea-Maidens. + +I. + + Spin, maidens, spin! let the wheel go round! + Hours that once are lost can never more be found. + (_Chorus_) Work, hands! Love, heart! + Every one here has his part,---- + Has his work to do,--has his love to give, + Thus we work, thus we love ever while we live. + + II. + + Weave, maidens, weave! let the shuttle fly! + Time and we are racing; faster, faster ply! + + (_Chorus_) Work, hands! Love, heart! etc. + + III. + + Sing, maidens, sing! as ye spin and weave, + Work was never meant our joyous hearts to grieve, + + (_Chorus_) Work, hands! Love, heart! etc. + + IV. + + As the wheel goes round--as the shuttle flies, + Let your songs and hearts upward, upward rise! + + (_Chorus_) Work, hands! Love, heart! + Every one here has his part, etc. + + +They passed out of the hall, and the little sea green man said, "To the +Top!" So they came to the top of the house, and there they saw hundreds +and thousands of little coral insects, working to make the house more +beautiful, and each, when he had done all that he could, lay down and +died. And the little man told Effie how all this beautiful palace had +been made by these insects and how it never would stop growing, but +always some coral insect would be doing his tiny work, and when he had +done all he could, would die. + +"What is that humming?" asked Effie. + +"That is the song they sing as they work," said he. "Listen! do you not +hear it?" Effie listened hard and just caught a few words of the chorus. + + "Every one here has his part---- + Has his work to do, has his love to give,---- + Thus we work, thus we love ever while we live." + +"Why, that is what the maidens who were spinning sang," said she. + +"Yes," said he, "they all sing the same song to different music." Then +she began to hear the words all about her, and she found that the little +sea green man, and the fishes, small and great, and the dolphins and the +old constable sword fish were all singing the same song, each in his own +way. So they went down again and through the whole palace and saw the +shells, some of them indeed making pearls, but all singing the same +song, and the sponges that were growing and the branches of coraline +that one by one loosened themselves and floated upward, singing as they +rose all about her, from corals and shells and grasses and sponges and +fishes, came this one song, each singing it to his own air, yet the +whole melody rising and sinking in a single harmonious strain. + +Effie looked on at every thing in wonder, and at last they came back to +the Queen's presence. She, too, was singing with her maidens; but when +the procession came in again, and went through their bows once more, she +said to the little sea-green man--and their voices were all hushed: + +"My faithful servant, have you shown the little maiden all the wonders +of the palace?" + +"Yea, my good-loving Queen." + +"And do they all spend their lives in good-working, singing as they +work?" + +"Yea, my good-loving Queen, all;" and the hum of the song rose all about +her. + +"Then back again lead the little child, and carry her to her home on +earth, that she too may live and work and sing. For + + Every one _there_ has his part: + Has his work to do, has his love to give,"-- + +And all the voices sang with her + + "Thus we work, thus we love ever while we live." + +Then the procession moved out again, and Effie clung still to the little +man's seal-skin cap, as she sat on her cushion of sea-weed, upon the +hump on his back; and he marched along, using his flat hands like oars, +while the gruff old constable with his sword, and the dolphins and the +fishes, great and small, moved beside the pair, and they all went +swiftly up from the light to the darker green, the voices growing +fainter to Effie, and their forms more indistinct. + +The little sea-green man brought Effie out of the water, and set her +down on the beach, and then, making his profoundest bow, he walked off +to the water again, the ends of his seal-skin cap dangling and bobbing +behind. Effie watched him go under the water, and then walked up into +the house. There was her mother frying some fish which Father Gilder had +just brought home for supper, while he was chopping wood at the side of +the house. It was not a bit like the beautiful palace she had seen, with +the Queen of the Ocean Deeps, and her maidens about her, weaving and +singing songs. Effie wished the little sea-green man had never brought +her up again, but had let her always live in such a beautiful place. + +"What's the matter, Effie?" asked her mother, looking up from the +frying-pan, and seeing Effie stand there, staring into the fire. + +"Oh, mother!" said she, "I have seen such beautiful things!" + +"Whereabouts, child!" + +"Oh, way down under the water! Such a funny little man, all dressed in +sea-weed, took me down on his back, and--" + +"Nonsense, Effie! don't come to me with such stories. Go and wash your +face and hands, and get yourself ready for supper." + +"But really! mother,--" + +"Sh! child; do as I tell you, and don't talk to _me_ about your going +down underneath the water; you'd ha' been wet through if you had." + +"But he covered me all up with sea-weed." + +"Poh! you've been asleep on the rock, and dreaming about it; it's a +wonder you didn't fall off into the water. Come! run and wash yourself. +Supper's most ready." + +Effie went off pouting; and Mother Gilder took the frying-pan off the +fire with the fish sizzling and smoking hot. "Come, father!" said she, +"and Effie, hurry up! supper's on the table." + +"Where's your little dog, Effie?" said her father. Effie didn't speak. + +"Have you eat him up, eh?" Never a word from Effie. + +"The child is naughty!" said her mother, "Effie, speak to your father!" +But Effie looked crosser than ever. + +"Well, you shall go to bed without your supper," said Mrs. Gilder, +getting up, "if you're going to behave so. The little thing's been +telling some ridiculous story about a man's taking her down under the +water on his back!" + +"He _did_ take me down!" cried Effie, "and I wish I'd stayed there! +erhn! erhn! erhn!" and she cried and cried. + +"Soh, soh, little one," said Father Gilder, "you wouldn't want to leave +your old father and mother, would you, Effie?" + +"N-n-n-no, b-b-but m-m-mother said I didn't go." + +"Ah, well! eat your supper, Effie, and then come and tell me all about +it." So Effie ate her supper and then sat in her father's lap, and began +to tell him all that I have told you; but before she had gone a great +way, she was so sleepy that she couldn't tell any thing more, but kept +saying, "And--and--and--a-n-d--a-n-d," till she fell fast asleep, and +Mother Gilder put her to bed, and she did not wake up once more till the +next morning. + +"Well, what d'ye think, old man, about this stuff?" asked Mrs. Gilder, +when Effie was snug in bed. + +"Well, I don't know," said Mr. Gilder. "Its queer! its queer! I guess +the child's been dreaming. Light my pipe, old woman." + +So, when Mrs. Gilder had foraged in the pockets of her wonderful apron +and brought out the tobacco and matches, and had filled the pipe and +lighted it, the fisherman tilted his chair back against the chimney and +smoked his pipe, and thought about it; but could not come to any +conclusion, till at last his pipe went out, and he nodded, and nodded. +Mother Gilder who sat on the other side of the fire-place, knitting a +stocking that she brought out of one of her pockets, began to nod, too, +waking up every once in a while to find she had dropped her stitches, +and so making the needles go fast again for a few moments and then +slower, till she nodded again, and at last she was fast asleep on one +side of the fire-place, and Father Gilder on the other side, and little +Effie in her crib. And we'll steal out on tip-toe, so as not to wake +them, and come back again in just a year wanting one day. + + + + +Wish the Second.--On the Mountain. + + +[Illustration] + +Well, we have been gone a year lacking one day, and here we are back +again on the beach, and there is the cottage, and Mrs. Gilder by her +table sewing on a frock for Effie, who is sitting on her seat--the great +flat rock, you know--down by the water. Effie is a year older now, and +this is her seventh birth-day. She has been a pretty good girl; but then +she wished a great many times that she could have stayed at the bottom +of the sea, and whenever she thought of it, she seemed to hear the song +that they sang there. Now she was sitting on her seat, looking out for +the old man, who you remember, had promised to come for her Second +Wish. She had thought about him a good many times and had made up her +mind what she would ask for. It was growing late and she began to be +afraid he would not come. She thought she would walk down the beach and +meet him; so she walked along looking for him all the while, when she +spied a boat coming toward the shore; but she did not look at it much, +she was so anxious to see her old man, and she thought she could make +him out, just coming along in the distance. Pretty soon, the boat came +up to the beach where she was, and a rough-looking sailor jumped out. + +"Little girl," said he, "where does Simon Gilder live?" + +"In that house, sir," pointing to the red cottage. "He is my father." + +"So you're his little girl, are you? Is your father in the house?" + +"No, sir, he is in the patch in the woods back there, hoeing potatoes." + +"Will you go with me and show me where it is?" Effie looked along the +beach and saw the old man, as she thought, slowly coming toward them; +"Oh, dear!" thought she, "if the old man should come while I am gone!" + +"What's the matter, little girl?" said the sailor-man when he saw she +did not answer. "Are you afraid to go with me?" + +"No," faltered Effie looking down. "But mother said I wasn't to go away +from the beach." + +"Oh, Effie, Effie!" said a voice close to her. She started. Why! that +was the old man's voice; and when she looked up, there was no sailor-man +and no boat, and no one coming down the beach; but the same old man that +she saw last year, in the same grey clothes, with the same beautiful +long white hair, and his head shaking the same way as he bent down over +his old smooth stick--the same old man stood by her. + +"Oh, Effie!" said he in his beautiful voice, "you have deceived me. You +weren't willing to do me a kindness; you cared too much about your own +happiness. And this is your birth-day. I have come for your Second Wish. +Remember, you have only one more wish after this. You must tell me this +one before the sun goes down. Look!" + +Effie looked as he pointed, and the sun stood just on the water's edge; +and there were clouds above it and around it, but she thought it would +go down clear. She had her wish all ready, though. "I wish," said she, +"that I might go on to the great mountain off there," pointing back from +the sea, "and see the birds and the trees and the flowers." + +When she had said it, the clouds gathered before the sun, so that it +could not be seen, and spread over the whole heavens, and she had hardly +time to run to the cottage, before the rain began to pour down in +torrents. Out at sea it was all black, except where the white caps of +foam lighted up the waters; the waves rushed roaring on the beach, and +the wind drove the sharp rain against the house. Effie put her face +against the window-glass and peered out into the darkness, but she could +see nothing of the old man. + +"A bad ending to your birth-day, little Effie," said her father, coming +in just then, all dripping wet. "Never mind. A bad beginning makes a +good ending so your birth-day must have begun well, and this day is the +beginning of the year for you, so the year'll end well. So it's good all +round, ha! It's a bad night, wife! I hope nobody's out in the storm; it +came up sudden." + +Effie thought of the old man and shivered to think how wet and cold he +would get. But she only thought of it a moment, and then began to wonder +how the wish would come to pass, and whether another little sea-green +man would come for her. + +So she went to bed and to sleep. But, lo! before morning came she was +waked by a tapping outside on the window-pane, close by her bed. At +first she was frightened and put her head under the bed-clothes; then +she thought, "Perhaps that is for me to go up on the mountain!" No +sooner did she think of that than she heard the tapping again, and then +a voice that said, "Come Effie! come with me to the mountain!" + +Effie jumped out of bed and opened the window. The storm was over and +the stars were shining brightly, while in the East was a patch of grey +light, that showed the sun would rise before a great while. "Hurry! +hurry!" said a voice near her, but she could not see anything. "Where +are you?" said she. "Here," said the voice over her head. She looked up +and there was a very indistinct white figure, that looked as if it might +be a shadow. All she could see was something white like a robe, and two +arms stretching out toward her; one of the hands came close to her; she +caught hold of it, and in a moment was drawn up to the figure and +wrapped in the white robe. Then a wind, blowing from the sea, bore them +along and they flew off toward the mountains. + +Now the mountains were a great way from the seashore, and Effie had +never been there. She could see their tops from the house where she +lived, and once in a while, somebody would come who had been there, and +he would tell her about the trees and the brooks and the birds. Now she +was to go there herself! She was held closely in the folds of the robe, +only she could look out as she went and see the ground over which they +were flying but they went so swiftly that she did not dare look down, so +she looked up to the sky. The stars were growing fainter, and the long +grey streak of dawn was growing brighter. They were nearing the +mountain, too, and Effie could hear, once in a while, the tinkling of +the brook as it rippled along below. At last they were close to the top +of the mountain. There was a wide plain upon the top, covered with +trees, while the springs of the brooks bubbled up there and flowed down +the sides, and on the ground were flowers nestled among the leaves and +the blades of grass. + +"Look! and listen!" said the voice of the Figure that carried Effie, at +the same time wheeling about, so that they faced the East. Effie looked. +The stars were all gone now, save one in the distance--the morning-star. +Everywhere overhead the sky was blue and clear--not a cloud to be seen; +while away off before them in the East, the sky was tinged with deep, +rich colours. Perfect quiet was everywhere. The wind was still; +motionless the trees stood; on their boughs the birds sat, hardly +rustling their feathers. She could just hear the tinkling of the brook. +The flowers on the ground had their leaves folded, and near by a great +eagle stood perched on a rock. The Figure holding Effie moved not at +all, only as Effie sat breathless looking down to the ground, its hand +pointed to the East and Effie again looked up there. + +The sky was a fiery colour now, and far up toward the zenith, the +crimson light shot its feathery rays; just above the horizon came a bit +of gold; then higher it rose, till like a golden ball leaving the earth, +it floated calmly up, up, soaring to heaven. The sun had risen! and the +instant it lifted itself above the line, the voice of the figure said: +"Listen!" and Effie listened. First she heard a low murmuring, and she +saw the tops of the trees swaying back and forth, lifting their branches +and bending them again toward the East; and as they murmured, the brooks +struck in with their sparkling notes, and the trees and the brooks sang +together; then the little birds on the branches opened their mouths, and +their throats swelled, and out burst their pure sweet notes, chiming +with the music of the trees and the brooks. Then the great, deep-mouthed +wind came, first trembling and quavering, then with rich full breath, +and the trees and the brooks, the birds and the wind, all sang the same +glad song. The flowers opened their leaves and lifted their heads, the +bright colours sparkling and shining; from the bushes sprang, +fluttering, the gay butterflies and insects, and the large eagle spread +its wings and sailed majestically in great circles toward the sun. Oh! +it was a wonderful sight, and it was a wonderful song they sang! The +whole mountain seemed to sing as the great golden sun rose higher and +higher. + +Only Effie was silent. Then the Figure wrapped her closer, and turning, +flew back toward the seashore. "What was the song they sang?" asked +Effie. "I could not tell the words." "You could not tell the words," +said the voice of the Figure, "because you did not sing with them. If +you had sung with them, you would have heard the words. I can only tell +you a little of it, but if you sing these words, the rest will some time +come to you. They all sang at the first-- + + "Praise to Thee! Praise to Thee! + Thou art all Purity. + Thou art the Source of Light-- + Scatter Thou the dark night. + Shine on us! shine on us!" + +Effie said the words over, and the voice said again "If you sing them +with the song of the sea-maidens you will understand them better." Then +Effie fell asleep, just as they came again to the open window and she +knew nothing more till she was waked by her mother calling out-- + +"Effie, child! wake up! the sun was up long ago! come! come!" + +Effie started up. It was broad daylight. Her father was out-doors, +looking after his nets, and her mother was getting the table ready for +breakfast. She dressed herself quickly, saying over in mind the words +just taught her. Then she recollected that she could understand them +better if she sang the song of the sea. So she said that to herself +also. + +"Do you go and get some water to put in the kettle, Effie," said her +mother. + +"Yes, mother," said she, and as she went she sang to herself-- + + "Work, hands! Love, heart! + Every one here has his part." + +"Good-morning, little one," said her father, meeting her in the +door-way; "here's a bright day for your new year!" + +"Isn't it!" said Effie, giving him a kiss and then singing-- + + "Praise to thee! Praise to thee; + Thou art all Purity. + Thou art the Source of Light." + +"I believe the child's going to be a good girl, wife," said Father +Gilder, coming into the house. + +"Well, I hope she is, for she's been sulky enough before this," said +Mother Gilder. + +"True, true," replied he, "but sulky birds don't sing." + +The year went slowly by. Effie sang the two songs as she worked, and +helped her mother and was a comfort to her father. Every morning when +she got up, she sang the Song of the Mountain, and through the day she +kept singing, too, the Song of the Sea. Very often she thought of the +old man, and wondered what she should ask for the third and last time he +came. She thought she ought to ask for the best thing she could think +of, but for a long time she could not make up her mind, until a few days +before her birth-day, as she was singing the two songs. Then was she +impatient for the day to come, that she might ask her last and great +wish. + + + + +Wish the Third.--In the Cottage. + + +[Illustration] + +The eighth birth-day came at last, but before the sun was to set, Mrs. +Gilder called her. "Here, Effie," said she, "I want you to go down cellar +before it is dark, and sweep it clean. It's dreadfully dirty." + +"Must I go now, mother?" + +"Yes, right off; it'll be too dark if you don't make haste," and Mrs. +Gilder drew a bunch of keys out of one of her apron pockets and unlocked +the closet door and brought out a broom for Effie. Effie took the broom +and went down cellar. "Well," thought she, "I must do my work at any +rate, and the old man may not come by till I get it done." So she set to +work, sweeping out the cellar. She had just finished and stooped to +pick up a perverse chip. As she lifted herself up, there stood that same +old man again! + +"Why! how _did_ you get in, sir?" said she. + +"The sun is most down, Effie," said he without answering her question, +"what is your Last Wish?" As he said it his head shook harder than ever +before, and he leaned on his cane so that he was almost bent double. + +"Oh, sir! I wish," said Effie, "that I might do some great work that +should make others happy, and that I might be able to sing the whole of +the Song of the Mountain." As she said this the old man raised his head +slowly from his staff, and when she finished, lo! he was changed into a +great beam of light that cast its rays all about the cellar. Effie flew +up stairs with her broom, and ran to the cottage door. The sea was +sparkling with light, and the sun went down clear and beautiful. + +"Aye! there's a sunset for you, chicky," said Father Gilder, coming up +from the shore. "There'll be no storm after that! Do you remember your +last birth day, little one, when there was such a sudden storm came +up?" Yes, indeed, Effie remembered it and wondered whether the sky would +always be clear now. + +The next day Effie looked for somebody to come and give her some great +thing to do, and teach her the Song of the Mountain, as she had wished +for her last wish. But no one came--no, nor the next day, nor the day +after; and then every thing went wrong. Her mother became sick and +cross, and finally died; and Effie had to wear the wonderful apron with +so many pockets, and work hard every day. How could she do any great +work? All she could do was to take care of the house and do little +things--ever so many of them there were, too, so that when the evening +came she was quite tired out. But her father said she was a comfort to +him, and he loved to have her sit by him and sing to him. She sang the +two songs over and over, as she did every day at her work, and never +tired of singing them, nor did he tire of hearing them. + +So she lived on. She had a great many more birthdays, but no old man +came to see her, and nobody came to give her a great work to do, or to +teach her the rest of the song. By and by her father died too, but Effie +lived still in the little red cottage by the sea-shore. And if any were +sick or in trouble, they were sure to come to her. For every body loved +her, and wherever she went she seemed to carry the sunlight with her, +and to make everybody better and happier. Still no one came, though +every birth-day she sat at the door, looking for the old man. + +But he did come at last. It was her birth-day. She was an old woman, but +she sat in the door-way as she used to, watching for somebody to come to +her with a great work to do, and the rest of the song. She sat in her +great arm-chair, and her eyes were very dim so that she could not see +very well, and her ears were very dull, so that she could hardly hear at +all. There was the sun that had so often gone down without any one's +appearing. But before it touched the water she heard a voice--that old +sweet voice that she had never forgotten, saying, "Effie!" She looked, +and there she saw the same face that the old man used to have, but that +was all she could see. Then it said again, "Effie!" and she said: + +"Oh, sir! have you come at last to give me my wish? I have looked for +you year after year, and now I am an old woman, and have not many more +days to live." + +"Your wish has been granted, Effie. You asked for some great work to do +to make others happy. All your life since you have been doing the great +work. There is nothing right or holy done for others that is not great. +The little daily duties that you did so faithfully; the little +kindnesses you showed to others; the little pleasant words you +spoke--these are all great things." + +"But the Song of the Mountain?" asked Effie. + +"Dear child," said he, "you have sung the song all your life. If you +have thanked God for his goodness to you--if you have loved him for his +love to you--if you have prayed to him to make you good and holy--you +have sung the Song of the Mountain." + +"Praise to thee! Praise to thee!" murmured the old woman. Then she +thought she heard the whole mountain singing as it did the morning she +listened to it; and the great song was sung, and she sang also, and the +voice beside her sang. + + * * * * * + +----The people who lived about there say, that when they came in the +morning to see Old Effie, she was sitting in her arm-chair, with her +hands folded, and her lips half parted as if she had sung herself to +sleep; and when they touched her she did not move--for Old Effie was +dead. + +[Illustration] + + + + +A Christmas Stocking + +With a Hole in it + +BEN'S STORY + + + + +I. + +The Stocking is Hung. + +[Illustration] + +At Christmas-tide in New York, the people who live in the upper part of +the city cannot hear the chimes that ring from Trinity steeple; but in +the dwelling streets which run in and out among the warehouse streets, +and in the courts which stand stock still and refuse to go a step +further,--there the Trinity music is heard and the "merry Christmas" of +the bells is flung out to all however poor. Beside Trinity there are +but few chimes of bells in the city, neither do poor children there sing +Christmas carols in the streets and thus unlatch the doors of even +crabbed hearts. + +But the merriest chimes of bells are played and the sweetest carols sung +even in New York. For when at Christmas one walks in the crowded streets +he may hear on all sides the merry Christmas! merry Christmas to you! to +you! rung out on every key and the chiming makes perfect music; the poor +children sing carols too, for are they not each little songs as they +stand in their rags before well-to-do folk--songs without +words--reminding us of the poor child Jesus and the blessings which He +brought? Yes, the bells ring in our hearts and we hear carols then at +least if not at other times; and in some old cobwebbed heart does +Christmas fancy or Christmas memory enter and ring disused bells that +sound but a hoarse blessing, so rusty has their metal become, but a +blessing at least well-meant. Blessed be Christmas that it knocks so at +the door of our hearts. + +Now it was on a certain Christmas that some very pleasant chimes were +rung, and that too within hearing of Trinity bells. In the street on +Christmas eve were Bundles of great coats and furs tied together with +tippets, who hurried along like locomotives, puffing and snorting and +leaving behind a line of smoke. But all the people in the streets were +not Bundles, by any means. Some scarcely had any wrappings, let alone +such heavy coverings as great coats and furs. Little boys may be Bundles +if they are properly wrapped up and tied with a tippet or scarf, but not +all little boys are Bundles. On this eve one might see many who were +not. They kept their hands in their pockets or breathed upon their red +fingers, and drew their shoulders together and screwed their faces as if +they were trying to hide behind themselves, while the wind blew through +every crevice of their bodies and rattled the teeth in their mouths. + +One of these little boys upon this very Christmas eve hung up his +stocking, and what became of it is now to be told. His name was Peter +Mit. He had been out all day selling cigars, and was on his way home to +supper. But hungry and cold as he was, he could not help stopping to +look through the shop-windows at the beautiful things spread out so +temptingly behind them. Such toys and games and picture books! "Now," +said he, "I must run;" but just as he started, he came to a window so +much finer than any he had seen that he stopped before this also. There +was a string fastened across the inside of the window with picture and +story papers hung upon it; the glass was not very clear, for the frost +made it almost like crown-glass, but it was clear enough in the corner +to shew one of the pictures, which was a double one; in one part there +was a little boy in his night-gown hanging a stocking upon the door of +his bed-chamber; in the other part the little boy is shown snugly asleep +in his bed, while a most odd little man hung over with toys and picture +books of all kinds stands on tip-toe before the stocking, filling it +with playthings. There was some printing underneath that explained the +picture; as well as Peter could make out, this little boy like a great +many others hung up his stocking before he went to bed on Christmas eve, +and some time during the night, Santa Klaus, a queer old man, very fond +of little folk, came down the chimney and filled the stocking with +presents. This was all new to little Peter, and astonished him +exceedingly; but it was really too cold to stand there looking at even +the most wonderful picture, so he blew into his red fist, and ran off +home, taking long slides on the ice wherever he could. + +He left the bright Main Street and turning one or two corners came to +Fountain Court. That is a fine-sounding name, but the houses are very +wretched and low, though quite grand people lived there in olden times; +where the fountain was no one could say, unless the wheezy pump that +stands at the head of the court were meant for it; of this the Pump +itself had no doubt. It was very large and had a long heavy handle that +always stood out stiffly; there was a knob on the top of the pump that +had once been gilded but that was a long time ago, when the Pump was +aristocratic and presumed itself to be a Fountain. It was dingy and +broken now, but the Pump was none the less proud and dignified; it took +pleasure in holding out its handle stiffly and never letting it down +though people stumbled against it every day. "It had been there the +longest," the Pump said, "it had a right to the way; people must learn +to turn out for it." + +It was down this Fountain Court--though people now generally called it +Pump Court--that little Peter Mit ran as fast as his legs could carry +him. He stopped at the fourth house on the right-hand side; it was a low +building, only a story and a half high, yet a respectable merchant had +lived there formerly. Before the door stood a battered wooden image of a +savage Indian, holding out a bunch of cigars in his hand, and looking as +if he meant to tomahawk you if you didn't take one. The Indian was quite +stuck over with snow-balls, for he was a fine mark for the boys in the +court, who divided their attention between his head and the knob on top +of the Pump. If it were not so dark, one might spell out on the dingy +sign over the door, the names "MORGRIDGE AND MIT DEALERS IN TOBACCO." +The only window was adorned with half a dozen boxes of cigars, a few +pipes, a bottle of snuff, and a melancholy plaister sailor, who had been +smoking one pipe, with his hands in his pockets, as long as the oldest +inhabitant in the court could remember. + +Peter Mit opened the door from the street and entered the shop; one +solitary oil lamp stood upon the counter, behind which sat David +Morgridge, the surviving partner of the firm of Morgridge and Mit +Dealers in Tobacco. Solomon Mit, the uncle of little Peter had been dead +five years, and on dying had bequeathed his orphan-nephew to his +partner, and so as Mr. Morgridge had no children, and Peter had no +father, the two lived together alone in the old house. + +Mr. Morgridge was not a talkative man--one would see that at a glance; +his mouth looked as if it shut with a spring. Mr. Mit, when living had +been even more silent, but when he did speak--then one would look for +golden words; for so small a man he was surely very wise. Mr. Morgridge +used to say that it was because his name was Solomon, and that was the +only thing Mr. Morgridge had ever said that came near being witty. All +the court knew it, and the saying almost turned the corner at the head +of the court. They divided the business between them Mr. Morgridge +attending to the snuff department, Mr. Mit to the cigar and pipe branch. +It was the intention of Mr. Mit, expressed soon after the adoption of +little Peter, to bring him up to take charge of the chewing tobacco +branch. In consequence of this division of the business, David Morgridge +took snuff incessantly, but never smoked. Solomon Mit smoked all the +while but never took snuff. They did this to recommend their wares. +Besides, it served to explain the duty of each partner. If a customer +came in for pipes or cigars he invariably went directly to Mr. Mit; if +he came for snuff, he as surely turned to Mr. Morgridge. + +When Peter entered the shop, Mr. Morgridge was just wiping his face +after a pinch of snuff; the whole air of the shop was snuffy, and no one +came in without instantly being tempted to sneeze. Peter sneezed as a +matter of course, and Mr. Morgridge, after his usual fashion, replied +with a "God bless you!" He seldom got the compliment in return, however, +as in his case the blessing would have become so common as to be quite +worthless. Mr. Morgridge then inquired into Peter's sales, and with +that his regular conversation ended. His mouth shut so closely, with the +corners turned down to cover any possible opening, that one would know +immediately that no accidental words could escape. But to-night Peter +did not mean to let his guardian keep his usual silence; he was too much +concerned about the picture he had seen in the shop-window. He waited +however till after tea. Then, as they returned to the shop, Mr. +Morgridge taking his customary seat upon his bench, with a pot of snuff +beside him, set about his work of putting up tobacco in divers shapes. +Peter took his customary seat also, much above Mr. Morgridge. It was a +seat which he had inherited from his uncle. Solomon Mit, being a +contemplative man, was desirous of being lifted above ordinary things +when he pursued his meditations, and had accordingly built a sort of +watch-tower out of several boxes, placed one upon another, and topped by +an arm-chair, deprived of its legs. Into this chair Solomon used to +climb, and when there, his head was not far from the ceiling. Here he +would sit in his lofty station, and wrapped in the smoke from his own +pipe, would revolve in his mind various questions, occasionally dropping +from the clouds a remark to his partner, who sat snuffing below on the +bench. Customers, when they entered the shop, had become used to the +sight of the little man's legs as they appeared below the cloud, and a +classical scholar chancing in one day to fill his pipe, had likened him +to Zeus upon the top of Olympus. + +Peter valued this watch-tower above all his possessions, and here every +night he sat perched, and counted the fly-specks on the ceiling, or +fished up things from the floor by means of a hook and line which he +kept by him. To-night, however, after he had climbed into the chair, he +broke the usual silence by putting the following question to Mr. +Morgridge: + +"Mr. Morgridge, is this Christmas Eve?" to which David Morgridge, after +taking a pinch of snuff cautiously replied: + +"It may be;" and then added, as if to explain his uncertainty of +mind--"I don't keep the run o' Christmas." + +[Illustration: "Mr. Morgridge, is this Christmas Eve?"] + +"Does Santa Klaus really come down a chimney Christmas night and fill +the stocking with presents?" proceeded Peter. And then, getting no +answer, he gave an account of what he had seen in the window, and being +very much interested, he told also what he thought of it all, and the +resolution that he had finally come to, namely, to hang up his own +stocking that very night. Mr. Morgridge having listened to what Peter +had to say, took more snuff and seemed disposed to let that end the +matter, but Peter persisted in getting his opinion. + +"Mr. Morgridge," said he, "do you think Santa Klaus will come and fill +my stocking?" Being pressed for an answer, Mr. Morgridge made shift to +say-- + +"May be, but should say not; used to believe in Santa Klaus when I was a +boy; don't now; 'taint no use." + +This was rather discouraging, but Peter upon thinking it over on his +watch-tower, reflected that Mr. Morgridge used to believe in Santa +Klaus, and that the queer fellow only visited boys: besides, he thought +it might be owing to the snuff that he disbelieved in him now; for it +was by that Peter usually explained Mr. Morgridge's eccentricities. + +But Peter was tired and drowsy, and clambering down from his perch, set +out for his bed, groping his way up the steep staircase that led to the +half-story above, where he had his cot. He never went up that staircase +in the dark--and a light was a luxury not to be thought of--without +imagining all manner of horrors which he might see at the top. In one +place, there were two small holes in the floor close together; the place +was over the shop, and whenever there was a light burning below, he +could see these two holes blinking and shining like two eyes. It was the +last thing he saw when he got into bed, and he would say to himself in a +bold way, as if to show any ghosts or goblins that might possibly be +about, how undaunted he was, "Two Eyes! come here and swallow me up!" +and then he would draw the bed-clothes over his head for a minute or +two, and peep out to reassure himself that Two Eyes had not taken him at +his word and come to swallow him up. But Two Eyes never came, and this +gave him fresh courage, so that of late he had become quite bold in the +dark. + +As he climbed up the staircase this night, his little head was full of +the idea of Santa Klaus. The chimney was convenient, he thought to +himself, for it passed through the loft and there was a large open +fire-place in it never used. But then, suppose he should come down +before the fire in the room below was fairly out! he would get scorched. +But it was too cold to sit long guessing about such matters, so he +undressed himself quickly. Last of all, he drew off his right stocking. +This he held in his hand--"Oh!" said he, "it has got a hole in it; the +things will all come out!" Indeed, it was almost all hole, for beside +the proper hole which every stocking has or it isn't a stocking, there +was a hole in the heel and another very large one in the toes. He looked +at it in despair, and then took up the other one; but that was even +worse. He consoled himself, finally, as well as he could, by the +reflection that Santa Klaus would probably put all the large things in +first, and thus they would stop the holes up and nothing would be lost. + +He cast about now for a place to hang it. The little boy in the picture +hung his on the door, but that was out of the question, for there was no +nail there. He remembered finally a hook in the wall not far from the +chimney. It was a dreadful place to go to, so near Two Eyes! but he +mustered courage, especially when he considered how very convenient it +would be for Santa Klaus. His heart went pit-a-pat as he stole over the +floor; the boards under his feet creaked and every bone in his body +seemed to be going off like a firecracker. It seemed to him as if Two +Eyes and all his friends were starting from every corner of the room. + +Going back was not so bad as all the ghosts were now behind him. He +shivered into his cold bed, and drew his knees up to his chin. So +excited was he about Santa Klaus, that when he looked presently toward +the other end of the room and saw Two Eyes blinking at him, he forgot +for the instant that he had ever seen them before, and fancied Santa +Klaus must have made his appearance already. He was just ready to +scream, when he recollected what the Eyes were, and boldly saying:-- + +"Two Eyes! come here and swallow me up!" he rolled himself up in the bed +clothes and was soon fast asleep. + + + + +II. + +Midnight. + + +[Illustration] + +The clock of Trinity struck twelve. One would have thought from the long +pause after each stroke, that it had great difficulty in making out the +complete number. Really it was so long about it because it wished to +give plenty of time for starting to the various persons and things in +the neighborhood, who are wont to be agog at that hour only. The Man on +St. Paul's, however, was so long getting ready that the twelfth stroke +came before he was fairly off,--so he lost his chance for this time. It +is so with him every night. When the first stroke comes it startles him +and he rubs his eyes and wonders where he is; he continues to rub his +eyes and wonder till the sixth stroke has sounded. Then he collects his +thoughts a little, and by the ninth stroke remembers that if he is quick +enough, he can shut up his book, get down from his high and +uncomfortable perch, and stretch his legs a little in a ramble through +the church-yard or round the Park. Having to be in a hurry, for it must +be done during the three following strokes, he gets confused, and before +he can muster sufficient presence of mind, the clock has struck twelve, +and he must wait another day. + +The Grocer on the City Hall was in a difficult predicament. It has long +been his intention to get down with his scales and weigh the City +Corporation. He tries to do it when the clock strikes twelve, as that is +his only chance. He heard the first stroke, and was on the alert. He +indeed succeeded in reaching the ground, but he could not find the +Corporation, though he searched the Hall and the Park. All that he could +discover was a sleepy alderman. He returned to his place in disgust. He +could not see, for his part, why the Corporation did not sit in the +night-time; it would seem to be the proper hour. This he said to the +Eagle perched on a pole near by, and who had just returned from a visit +to his grand-uncle who has been all his life on the point of dropping an +umbrella, point downward, on the greatest rogue in the city. The Eagle +found his grand-uncle had not yet dropped the umbrella, because he was +not sure that he had found the greatest rogue. + +But other people and things are not so stupid as the Man on St. Paul's, +nor so unsuccessful as the Grocer. They are brisker and seize the +opportunity to enjoy themselves. The Pump, for instance, that stands at +the head of Fountain Court, generally indulges himself in a soliloquy. +He talks through his nose, to be sure, which sounds disagreeably, but +the nearest listeners do not mind it. For the Man on St. Paul's is too +stupid or it may be asleep. The Grocer is running round with his scales, +looking for the Corporation. Sir Walter Raleigh has taken so much snuff +that his own voice is even more disagreeable, and so he has no right to +complain. The nearest listener of all would be the Indian in front of +Morgridge and Mit, dealers in tobacco, but he has gone to have a talk +with Sir Walter Raleigh; so the Pump has it all its own way. Let us hear +what the Pump said this night:-- + +"Well, so it's Christmas again, is it? how the years do go by! and how +things change! To think of the difference between this court now and +what it used to be! Why, I can remember very well when fine ladies and +gentlemen gathered here on Christmas eve. The watchman would go along +with them with a lantern in his hand. I was of importance then--I am +now, to be sure, but then people recognized me and considered me. I gave +the name to the court--that was something! But those days went by; and +then there was that time when a noisy fellow got up on my head, where he +kept his place with difficulty, and spouted ever so much eloquence about +rights and liberty and constitution. No good ever came of that! for it +was he who broke off a piece of the gilt knob on my head, and it has +never been mended since. That was the beginning of my troubles, and now +to what a pass have things come. Why, a ragged, drunken man leaned up +against me--ugh! this very night, and I see the poorest kind of people +go down the court. I was used to have nothing but fine pitchers and +pails brought to me to fill, but now I have to look into dirty broken +pitchers and old tubs. They have even begun to call the place Pump +Court, as if I were no better than a common every-day pump! What is +worst, there is an upstart just the other side of the way,--it lets out +water to be sure, but it has nothing to say about it; it has no handle, +and the water comes out by just turning a screw; altogether it is a very +plebeian thing; it can know nothing of the pleasure of feeling a box go +rumbling down your inside, and fetching up water from the depths of the +earth. + +"There go the Christmas bells! Many a time I've heard them before and +seen Santa Klaus hurrying along to visit every house in the court. He +never goes near them now, and no wonder, for he can't care to associate +with such low people. When he does come, he looks soberer, and not so +jolly as he used to; nor does he bring so many and such fine things. I +am in fact the only respectable thing in the neighborhood. But bless my +boxes! what a shock that was! somebody must have struck my handle; +served him right; he ought to turn out. I've been here the longest." + +It was the sleepy alderman who was hastening by. "Confound that +pump-handle!" said he. "That's the second time to-day I've stumbled +against it. I'll have the pump taken up and carted off to-morrow. It's a +nuisance; nobody wants it here." + +It was difficult to make out what the Pump said to this; it was so +choked with rage at the indignity, that only a confused gurgling could +be distinguished in its throat. But that was the end of its soliloquy. + +The Pump was partly right. Santa Klaus did not visit the court as often +as he used, nor did he bring such fine presents with him. But it was not +because he disliked the society that he did not come, it was because +they did not hang stockings up. The stocking must be hung or he will +not go--that is the rule. He is wonderfully keen in scent; he will go +straight to a stocking even if it be hidden in the darkest corner. He +cares nothing about time or place either. He can be where he chooses at +any moment. So, just as the twelfth stroke of Trinity sounded, Santa +Klaus was in Fountain Court. The Indian was scurrying down the place +with his cigars in his hand, and taking his stand before Morgridge and +Mit, put on his face its fiercest expression as the sound of the stroke +died away. At the same moment Santa Klaus was in the house, in the loft +where little Peter Mit had hung his stocking. Whether he entered by the +chimney or not, it is impossible to say, but I suspect he did, for the +door was locked and there was no other entrance. + +At any rate there he was, and standing on tip-toe by Peter's stocking. +He began to fill it and emptied one of his pockets. "Really," said he, +"this is a very capacious stocking." It was not full yet, and he emptied +into it another pocketful. "This is remarkable!" said he, stopping in +amazement, "it is as roomy as a meal-bag. What an extraordinary foot +that little boy must have!" + +Santa Klaus' clothes are all pocket pretty much, and he emptied the +contents of a third into the stocking, which was still not full. Then he +stopped to examine it. "Oh! oh!" said he, "this is very bad! there is a +hole in the stocking!" It would never do to keep pouring things in at +one end while they passed out at the other, and his presents could only +be placed in stockings. So Santa Klaus sorrowfully gathered up the +presents, and leaving the stocking as empty as he found it, was off in a +twinkling. + + + + +III. + +Kleiner Traum visits Peter Mit. + + +[Illustration] + +The moment Santa Klaus whisked out of the room, Kleiner Traum whisked +in. It is impossible to say how he got into the room either; it is +enough that he was there. Kleiner Traum is a very remarkable personage. +He is like Santa Klaus in this, that he moves very quickly and can make +visits in one night all over the world. But more than that, he has the +power of making people see just what he chooses. Some persons think that +they have seen two Kleiner Traums, a good and a bad, but the fault is +in their eyes. He carries a kaleidoscope with him and shakes it before +people; just how he shakes it, so are the things they see. These things +are very apt to be like what has happened to them at different times, +only much more grotesque. + +Kleiner Traum had come to make Peter Mit a visit, and show him his +kaleidoscope. Little Peter was fast asleep--that is the only time when +Kleiner Traum visits people,--and snugly curled up in bed. He was not +thinking or dreaming about anything, when now Kleiner Traum held the +kaleidoscope before him, and gave it a twist. What now did he see? + +He saw an exceedingly queer-looking man squeeze out of the fire-place; +he was hung over with toys, and his pockets bulged out with the things +inside; in fact, he was quite the image of the little man he had seen in +the picture in the shop-window, and Peter made up his mind instantly +that it was Santa Klaus. As soon as he got on his legs in the middle of +the room, Two Eyes, whom Peter had so often called upon to swallow him +up, began moving about, apparently trying to mislead Santa Klaus. Peter +was ready to scream out, but for the life of him he couldn't make a +sound. He watched Two Eyes, who seemed to think he would draw Santa +Klaus to the head of the staircase, and then dance about so as to make +him tumble headlong down the steps. But Santa Klaus was too knowing for +Two Eyes. Peter saw him go to the door as if expecting to find the +stocking there, and then not finding it, turn about and walk around the +room till he came to where it hung upon the hook. + +Peter was now terribly excited, and Kleiner Traum gave the kaleidoscope +another twist. During the process of twisting, Peter's mind was in a +queer jumble, and he thought he saw Two Eyes peeping out of the +stocking, and Santa Klaus sitting on the Pump at the head of the court; +but as soon as the kaleidoscope was still, it was clear again, and he +could see Santa Klaus standing on tip-toe before the stocking and +emptying into it the contents of his pockets. + +The first thing he took out was a tin trumpet; just such a one as Peter +had himself seen in a shop-window the day before. This he put into the +stocking, giving a chuckle and trying it to see if it were good; it +sounded splendidly. Then came a sled. It was astonishing how it ever +came out of Santa Klaus' pocket and still more astonishing how it could +get into the stocking. Yet surely Peter saw it enter, and that very +easily. After the sled came a monkey-jack. Before he put it in Santa +Klaus twitched the monkey, and made it turn summersaults over the stick, +till he was nearly ready to fall down with laughing at it. A mask came +next--a leering mask with a long nose, and eyes, frightful enough to +scare all the people in the court. Then followed a warm muffler for the +head; it was a very comfortable looking thing. No sooner was the muffler +safely in than a pint of peanuts rolled into the stocking, and after the +peanuts came some marbles, and after the marbles, a dozen red apples, +and after the apples a pair of skates, and after the skates a bundle of +candy. + +It certainly was astonishing to see how much the stocking would hold. +Peter could hardly believe his eyes, yet there it was, and he saw +everything that went into it. But the candy was the last thing; the +stocking was now full and the candy peeped out at the top. Peter saw +Santa Klaus look approvingly at the stocking, give it a pat and +disappear through the fire-place again, looking just as full of presents +as when he came down. + +At this point Kleiner Traum turned the kaleidoscope, and Peter was all +in a jumble again. Apparently the stocking was going up the chimney and +Santa Klaus was riding on the toe, while Two Eyes was coming toward +Peter to swallow him up. Peter was just on the point of giving himself +up for lost, expecting the next moment to be swallowed up by Two Eyes, +when it was clear again, and Two Eyes was in his old place, and the +stocking was hanging on its hook; only Santa Klaus had disappeared up +the chimney. For you see, Kleiner Traum's kaleidoscope was quiet again. + +Now what did Peter see? The stocking was swollen to an enormous bulk, +and what was more, Peter could see everything that was going on inside. +He saw that they were quarrelling about the places they should occupy; +for in the heel and in the toe of the stocking, were the two holes which +were now of an alarming size. The Sled commenced the trouble. It felt +itself slowly but surely slipping toward the hole in the toe, with the +weight of all the other things on him. "Don't crowd so!" Peter heard the +Sled say to the Tin Trumpet. + +"I'm not pushing," said the Tin Trumpet; "I'd give anything if I weren't +sliding so toward that dreadful hole!" "Monkey-Jack, I'll thank you to +keep that stick of yours out of my mouth." Just then, an apple losing +its footing, dropped through the hole in the heel of the stocking, and +Peter heard it go rolling over the floor; another quickly followed, and +another. + +"Oh!" said the Mask, "this is getting dangerous; there is a dreadful +cavity under me; but I'll put a bold face on it. There goes another +apple." Peter heard apple follow apple out of the hole in the heel, till +the whole dozen were on the floor, where they still went rolling off +after each other toward the staircase when they hopped thumpty-thump +down the steps, till the last one had gone. Meanwhile the Sled, the Tin +Trumpet and the Monkey-Jack were having a sad time in the foot of the +stocking. "I cannot hold on much longer," said the Sled, and it had +hardly spoken the words, before it slid out through the toe, and Peter +heard it go sliding over the floor and follow the apples down the +staircase. + +Matters were no better, but rather worse in the leg of the stocking. A +weak voice was heard in the corner. It was a Peanut complaining bitterly +of the Marbles. "If ye had not come in here among us," it said, "we +should have done very well, but now ye are pushing us all toward the +hole." The Marbles could not reply, they were too frightened themselves; +they had crowded in among the Peanuts for safety, and now there was +danger of both going. One large Marble alone held them all back; it was +wedged in by the Monkey-Jack, and the Monkey-Jack had its stick in the +Tin Trumpet's mouth. But the Tin Trumpet had only caught by a single +thread of the stocking; that gave way, and down came the Trumpet +followed by the Monkey-Jack. The Trumpet rolled off toward the door like +the rest, and the Monkey-Jack went head-over-heels after it. Of course +the large Marble had no help for it now; he dropped out of the heel, +and the rest of the Marbles came tumbling after with the Peanuts in the +midst of them. The Marbles and Peanuts, unlike the rest, rolled off +toward Two Eyes; the Marbles disappeared through one eye, the Peanuts +through the other. + +It seemed of no avail now for the rest to keep their place. "It is no +use to keep up appearances longer," said the Mask, and he dropped out +and walked off on his nose. The Skates who had not spoken before, now +turned to the Muffler and said: "We shall cut a pretty figure going +through the hole like the rest, we may not go after all; there's many a +slip--" but before they had finished the sentence they had followed the +rest, and were striking out for the door. + +Nothing now remained but the Muffler and the Candy. The Muffler spoke in +a thick voice, "I am a sort of relation to the stocking and intend to +remain by it, if it is a poor relation. It won't turn me out of doors, +surely." The Candy, replied in a sweet voice, "As for me, I shall stick +to the stocking. My dear Muffler, you quite melt me, you are so warm +and affectionate." + +After this point, Peter could see or hear nothing further, and for a +very good reason--Kleiner Traum had vanished with his kaleidoscope. + + + + +IV. + +Kleiner Traum Visits David Morgridge. + + +[Illustration] + +It is no secret whither Kleiner Traum vanished. The moment he had left +little Peter Mit, he was sitting on David Morgridge's breast, +kaleidoscope in hand. + +One shake of the kaleidoscope. Really, Mr. Morgridge sees strange +things. He sees a little boy no bigger than Peter Mit, in a snug little +room, hanging up on the door a red and white plaid stocking. The +strangest thing is that he remembers the place and surroundings +perfectly. He knows the cozy room, the white dimity curtains, the +little cot bed, the sixteen-paned window looking out on the church-spire +and the meadow; it was as if he had skipped sixty years of his life +backward, for the little boy was a diminutive David Morgridge. + +But the kaleidoscope makes quick shifts. Here is another turn, and Mr. +Morgridge, as if he were a picture on the wall, is looking at a room +which he knows well enough. It is the tobacco shop. There are two men in +it; one sits on the bench and takes snuff, and does up little paper +pellets; the other is just discoverable under a cloud of tobacco smoke, +perched upon the top of a small observatory. This, too, is Christmas +Eve, for so the little man on the watch-tower announces, as if he kept +the calendar of the seasons, and piped an "All's Well" to his comrade +below. + +"David," he says, "David Morgridge! This is Christmas Eve. 'On earth +peace, good will toward men.' That's what the Bible says, and that's +what Trinity chimes say. How many Christmases have we kept together? +eighteen, David; then that's eighteen turkeys for the poor folk, though +bless us we're not much richer." This is a long speech for Solomon Mit, +yet the man snuffing on the bench says nothing, but scowls. Then does +Solomon Mit clamber down from his watch-tower, and with his cheery, +piping voice sing a Christmas hymn, and though David Morgridge never +lends his voice, the little man is no whit disheartened, but ends with +laying his hand on David's shoulder and heartily wishing--"God bless +you, David Morgridge, old friend--God bless us all!" and climbs once +more to the top of his tower. + +Quickly turns the kaleidoscope again, and now Mr. Morgridge, like a +shadow in the dark that can see but not be seen, is in the room where he +is now sleeping. But he is not on the bed, he is standing by the side of +it, and the old cheery voice, though weaker now, of Solomon Mit comes +from the pillow. The little man has come down from his tower for the +last time, and has puffed his last pipeful of tobacco smoke. This, too, +is Christmas Eve, and Solomon Mit has not forgotten it. Listen, he is +speaking now. + +"David Morgridge, old friend, twenty years we've lived together. You've +been a true friend to me. We haven't said much, but we've trusted each +other. I'm the first to go, and I'm glad to go on Christmas Eve. I'd +like to go when the bells are ringing and Trinity is chiming, 'Peace on +earth, good will toward men;' that's it David. Don't forget the turkeys; +twenty you know; and don't make 'em chickens. You haven't always liked +to give them, but you will now. And you'll be good to little Peter. I +bequeath him to you, David, to hold and to keep in trust; and all that's +mine in the shop; it's all yours. There are the bells-- + + "'All glory be to God on high, + And to the Earth be peace'"-- + +But Solomon Mit has sung without finishing his last hymn. + +What more Mr. Morgridge might have seen, we shall never know, for at +this point Kleiner Traum and his kaleidoscope vanished, and did not come +back that night at any rate. + + + + +V. + +Morgridge Klaus. + + +[Illustration] + +When does Christmas Day begin? It can never be determined, but most +people think it begins when they wake, though all do not wake at once; +the children generally have the longest Christmas Day. Now, in Fountain +Court, almost before daylight, there was some one astir. He came out of +the door of Morgridge & Mit, dealers in tobacco, and toddled up the +court at an astonishing gait. Where did he go to? he certainly passed +the pump and turned the corner, and in a quarter of an hour more was +trotting down the court with a parcel in his hand. The door of Morgridge +& Mit closes behind him, but not before we have seen his face. Verily, +it is Mr. Morgridge, but so extraordinarily like Santa Klaus is he, that +we are puzzled to know which of the two it is; the form and shoulders +are those of Mr. Morgridge, but the face at least is borrowed from Santa +Klaus; Mr. Morgridge never in his life looked so jolly. Not to confound +this person with the sour-faced man who sat glumpy, upon the bench +taking snuff, the night before, let us call him Morgridge Klaus. + +Morgridge Klaus stole slily up stairs to Peter Mit's loft. He went up +stairs because there was so much of the Morgridge about him; if there +had been more of the Klaus he would undoubtedly have come down the +chimney. At the top of the stairs, where it was still quite dark, he +could see Peter curled up in bed. But it was not he that he had come to +see. He began groping about on the floor in search of something. "Ah! +here it is!" he said with a chuckle, bringing to light a stocking most +woefully riddled with holes. Morgridge Klaus stuffed a paper parcel into +the stocking, and laying it carefully on the floor, stumbled down +stairs, chuckling to himself and taking snuff immoderately. + +Mr. Morgridge's Christmas Day had in fact commenced, but it was an hour +yet before Peter Mit began his Christmas Day. The little fellow rubbed +his eyes and drew his knees nearer his chin when he awoke. Then he +remembered the day and looked eagerly toward the chimney. There hung his +stocking, as small, as full of holes, and as empty as when he hung it. +"So it was a dream only after all," he said sorrowfully. Still he went +over to it in hopes that the dream might have come true, and that the +candy and muffler had remained by the stocking, but they too were gone. +Peter shiveringly dressed himself. He had now only one stocking and a +shoe to put on. How heavy the stocking was! there was something in it! +Peter grew greatly excited--"Santa Klaus must have taken this stocking +after all!" said he. Yes, there was a bundle, and the paper stuck to +the inside. It was candy without a doubt; but where was the muffler? +Peter turned the stocking inside out, but the muffler had gone after the +rest of the things. The candy alone was faithful. + +Peter hastened down stairs. Mr. Morgridge was there getting breakfast +ready. Peter eagerly told him of his good fortune. What a chuckle did +the old fellow give! it was amazing to Peter. He had never before heard +Mr. Morgridge make such a noise. He had never seen his face so broken up +into smiles and grins. He could hardly believe it was Mr. Morgridge. Nor +was it--it was Morgridge Klaus. + +While breakfast was in preparation, Peter climbed up into his +watch-tower. Well done! there was a muffler in the chair! precisely like +the one which he had seen enter the stocking the night before. How could +it have found its way to his seat? As he was looking at it in +wonderment, there was another undoubted chuckle from Morgridge Klaus. +Peter was astonished beyond measure. Could Mr. Morgridge be Santa Klaus? +impossible! yet he began to believe it, for was it any harder of belief +than that it was Mr. Morgridge who then spoke in a voice that had in it +the cheeriness of Solomon Mit:-- + +"Come down, little Peter! To-day is Christmas Day. We must hurry through +breakfast; for we've got twenty-five turkeys to carry to twenty-five +honest poor folk. It will go hard with us, but we'll make shift to buy +'em. God bless you Peter Mit!" and may the Indian in front of the door +tomahawk me if David Morgridge did not then and there, in his old, +wheezy, snuff-choked voice, sing-- + + "All glory be to God on high, + And to the Earth be peace, + Good will, henceforth, from Heaven to men, + Begin and never cease!" + +[Illustration] + + + + +The Little Castaways + +JULIA'S STORY. + + + + +The Little Castaways. + + +[Illustration] + +It was a June afternoon, long and gentle; the sun did not scorch as it +does in August, and the wind was from the South, just strong enough to +stir the trees a little, and to carry the fragrance of the flowers +through the air. It was such an afternoon as old people like to spend +listlessly watching the bees and the butterflies, and thinking of old +times; nor are they the only people who like June afternoons; their +children and their grandchildren in different fashion, make the most of +these long hours and never think them too long. + +Old Benjy Robin was humming a psalm-tune as he sat in his chair upon the +front stoop of his son's house, where he always lived; he had moved away +a little from the open passage which led to the back of the house, to +avoid the draught of wind that passed gently through. It was a very +pleasant wind to younger folk, but Old Benjy was turned of eighty, and +not so warm in his blood as to like such cool currents. His cane stood +between his knees, over which was spread a large red silk handkerchief, +and his hands were folded before him; while his two thumbs slowly turned +round each other, sometimes one way, sometimes the other. Before him he +could see down the garden walk, with its trim rows of shrubbery, and +beyond farther on, the very lovely hills that closed in the lake of +Clearwater, the shore of which was but a little way off. John Robin, +his son, who owned the house and farm, owned also part of the lake, and +there was a path, leading from the other side of the road in front of +the house, down to the shore where the horses were taken to water and +where the farmer kept his boats. It was a beautiful view from the stoop, +especially when as now the white clouds were floating over the tops of +the hills. + +It was so quiet and the air was so mild that old Benjy soon began to +feel sleepy; he took the red bandanna from his knees and threw it over +his head to keep the flies away from his face, and then settled himself +to sleep, while his thumbs continued to go slowly round and round as if +they were trying in vain to overtake one another. Old Juniper too, the +great Newfoundland dog that lay at his feet, gave up trying to catch the +flies that plagued him, and stretching himself out as much as he could, +drew in his tongue over his red gums, and also fell sound asleep +breathing very hard. + +The only persons in the house this June afternoon were the old man, +Juniper the dog, and Yulee, and Bo, Robin, Benjy's grandchildren. Their +father and mother had gone out for the afternoon and would not be back +until after tea; the boys were at work at the other end of the farm, and +so the children had been left in care of their grandfather and the +servant-maids. But Benjy had gone to sleep, and the servants had taken +the time to pay a visit to the next farmhouse. The children however did +not notice this; they were sitting on the door-step at the back of the +house, at the opposite end of the passage to where their grandfather +was. They enjoyed the wind that was blowing through so pleasantly, and +Yulee was reading aloud from a book to her brother Bo. Yulee was eight +years old; her real name was Julia, but no one but the school mistress +ever called her so. Bo, short for Robert, was two years younger and +wanted to do everything that Yulee did. Wherever Yulee was, there you +would be sure to find Bo. He followed her about as faithfully as a +chicken does her mother, and Yulee treated him very much as a hen does +its only chicken. + +The book they were reading was called "_The Castaways_," and Bo was +listening to Yulee with the greatest attention. At last, just as the +great clock in the hall struck three, Yulee finished; she had skipped +some of the parts, especially the hard names and Miss Keenmark's +science, but she had read the book through and Bo had heard most of it. + +"Bo!" said she, as she shut the book, "I'd like to be a castaway, +wouldn't you? It would be so fine to live on the top of a rock and have +to go up a rope ladder, and keep goats, and save the lives of Africans, +and sleep in an ox-cart!" + +"Oh, but the lions!" said Bo, "and the--and the--what are those big +things that live in the water, and most swallowed the canoe?--you know." + +"I know what you mean," said Yulee. "The hippopotamuses. I said the word +all the way going to school yesterday, so as to remember it." + +"I shouldn't like them," said Bo. + +"Oh, but one of the men would fire right into his mouth, just as Albert +did. I'll find the place;" and turning over the leaves of the book, she +came to the story, and read:--"But they had not been long seated when a +tremendous shock was felt; the light canoe was thrown above the water, +and capsized in a moment; and Albert, who was standing at the stern of +the raft, watching the boat, saw, to his great horror, the huge head of +a hippopotamus raised above the water, preparing to seize the canoe with +its red open mouth. Calling for aid, he seized his gun and fired in the +face of the ferocious beast, which with terrific roars, dived down and +disappeared." + +"But who'd you have to shoot the--pippi--what is it?" asked Bo. + +"The hippopotamus," said Yulee, who liked to pronounce the word; "why, +of course, there must be some men wrecked with me: there's the captain, +and the doctor, and carpenter, and the passengers--" + +"A'n't girls ever wrecked alone?" asked Bo; Yulee thought a minute; she +tried to recollect the different stories she had read about people who +were cast away. "No;" she said finally, "there is always the captain, +and the doctor, and the carpenter, and some of the passengers at least; +and the carpenter finds his chest." + +Bo had nothing to say against such a mode of shipwrecking, and Yulee +continued: "But I think I'd rather be cast away on an island like +Robinson Crusoe or The Little Robinson, where there was water all +around, and canoes and pearls, just as it is in 'The Swiss Family.'" +"Bo!" she said suddenly, "I do declare! let's be cast away on the island +in the lake! We can get into the boat, you know, and be wrecked on the +shore, and you can take your bow and arrows, and I'll take my tea-set +and my range, and we'll build a little house, and perhaps there are some +goats on the island! Wouldn't it be grand!" + +Bo opened his brown eyes wide at the idea. "Well let's do it!" said he; +it was enough for him that Yulee had proposed it; "I'll go right off and +get my bow and arrows." + +"And I'll get my tea-set and the range, and I'll take Miss Phely," said +Yulee. They jumped up from the flat door-step, and ran into the house, +and up stairs to the play-room. There they began collecting what they +thought they should need, and Yulee very soon pounced on Miss Phely who +was in the corner of the room, sitting very stiffly upon a small willow +rocking chair. Miss Phely's face originally was black, but rather +streaked with a doubtful colour now, as it had been washed somewhat +vigorously at different times; her eyes were blue and very wide open, +and her dress, which wanted a pin behind, was of spotted pink calico. +Her arms she held rather stiffly away from her clothes, and her fingers +were stretched as far apart as they well could be. Yulee was in a hurry, +and took her up unceremoniously by the waist, but Miss Phely did not +seem at all disturbed, and did not even wink or shut her fingers +together. + +They hurried down stairs and out by the front door, passing on tip-toe +by their grandfather, Old Benjy Robin, who slept soundly in his chair, +with his cane between his knees and the bandanna thrown over his head to +keep away the flies. Even Juniper, the dog, never woke up, though Yulee +was strongly tempted to add him to the party of castaways. They passed +through the garden gate, and crossing the road walked through the +pasture, down the path that led to the shore of Clearwater. There, tied +to a stake, was their father's flat-bottomed boat, with keel-boats near +by. Yulee chose the flat-bottomed boat, and they proceeded to put on +board their various stores. + +First, and head foremost, Miss Phely was deposited upon one of the +seats; if her head had been less hard it must have disliked the wooden +pillow that it was knocked down upon. After her came the box of cups and +saucers, tea-pot, sugar-bowl and creamer; then some of Miss Phely's +clothes, in case a change were desirable; a little Shaker basket, never +before used, which Yulee said was for berries; the bow and arrows; a +pail for the goats' milk; a tin pump with a trough attached to it; +little Bo carrying a pop-gun which was too valuable to be suffered out +of his hands; and lastly, Yulee holding in one hand "The Castaways," to +refer to in case of need, and in the other the most precious thing of +all to her--a little complete leaden range with places for every thing, +which had been given her for a present on her last birth-day, and in +which it had ever since been her secret but firm determination to build +a real fire. The range was altogether too valuable to be laid on the +seat like Miss Phely, so Yulee kept it in her hands; and she had not +forgotten either--prudent Yulee! to bring some matches wrapped up in a +piece of newspaper, and which she kept her eyes on constantly, as they +lay in the range, expecting every moment to see them start a-fire; +indeed, they kept her very uneasy. However, everything was now aboard. + +"Here, Bo," said she, "you sit down there, side of Miss Phely, and don't +let her tumble overboard, and I'll go and untie the rope." Bo began to +be a little frightened, but he had faith in Yulee, and Yulee had great +faith in herself. When she had untied the end of the rope that was in +the boat--and very hard work she found it--she said: + +"Now we're off, Bo! are you all ready?" + +"Yes," said Bo. + +"No; you must say, 'aye aye, sir!'" said Yulee. + +"But you a'n't _sir_," said Bo. + +"Yes I am," said Yulee, "I'm the Captain;" and she took her seat in the +middle of the boat, where she said the Captain always sat. "This ship is +the _Little Madras_, Bo," said she. "Where's 'The Castaways'? I'll read +about it." So she read how all the party, after their first shipwreck in +the _Madras_, had embarked again in the ship's long boat, which the +Captain called the _Little Madras_. + +"Are there any of those big animals here? you know that long name," +asked Bo. + +"Hippopotamuses?" said Yulee, promptly, delighted at the opportunity of +using the word. "Oh, no! there are no hippopotamuses in Clearwater; the +hippopotamuses only live in Africa." + +"You never saw one, did you?" said Bo, who didn't like to use the word. + +"No," said Yulee. "I never saw a hippopotamus, but I've seen an elephant +in the menagerie and I guess it's something like it. There's a picture +of one in the Castaways," and she showed it to Bo. + +While they were talking, the wind and the current had been gently +drifting the boat away from the shore; they were quite a distance from +the stake now, and really going toward the island, which lay in the lake +not very far off. They had never been there for their father said there +was nothing to see on it; but Yulee was very certain in her own mind +that there was something on the island very wonderful. She had made up a +great many stories about it, which she had told over to herself so often +that she believed them as much as if some one else had told them to her. +She was sure that there were goats there at any rate and possibly a +parrot; and she was ready to believe in a cave, and perhaps even a small +mountain with a rope ladder up to the top like the one in "the +Castaways," though she rather thought she would have seen that if there +had been one, from the shore. The island could not be seen from the +house, nor from the boat-landing; it was round a curve in the lake. + +The boat followed the current which led it slowly toward the island, and +Yulee was in ecstacies as they neared the shore. She sat in the bows of +the boat looking eagerly toward the island and trying to make out a good +place for a cave. But the land looked rather unpromising; it was low, +rising but little above the water, and covered with grass, a few low +bushes and one clump of trees. The boat did not seem able to get much +nearer the island, after it was within a few yards of it, and even +appeared to be drifting away. Yulee noticed this and began to be alarmed +lest they should not be cast away after all. + +"Why don't we get wrecked?" asked Bo at this juncture, leaning over the +boat side and looking into the water which was hardly a foot deep here. + +"There ought to be a great wind," explained Yulee, "and a storm, and the +ship ought to go to pieces, and then we should be thrown on shore, and +in the morning we should go out to the wreck and get the carpenter's +chest and all sorts of things; at least that's the way it usually +happens, but we're in a boat you see, and that makes a difference. I +think, Bo," she added, "you'd better take off your shoes and stockings, +and get out and pull the boat ashore, or we never shall get there." + +So Bo rolled up his trousers, and with some difficulty got over the side +of the boat into the water. The boat moved easily, and Bo in great glee +pulled it to the island, to a place where there was a little beach, till +the bottom of the boat grated on the gravel. + +"Here we are!" said Yulee. "Now, Bo, we must get the things ashore +before the _Little Madras_ goes to pieces." Bo stood on the beach by the +boat while Yulee handed to him the various stores and provisions, not +forgetting Miss Phely, who was still as wide awake as ever, staring +before her without winking and keeping her fingers stiffly apart in the +same uncomfortable fashion. Bo took her by the arm and tossed her upon +the ground in a very unfeeling manner. Last of all came Yulee, holding +fast her precious range and dividing her attention between the dangerous +matches and the disembarking from the boat. + +"Now, is the _Little Madras_ going to pieces?" asked Bo. + +"It ought to," said Yulee, "or else it will drift away in the night +time. We'll tie it here, though, because you know we may want to sail +round our island, and I don't see any log of wood here to make a boat +out of as Robinson Crusoe did. Where's the rope, Bo?" she said, as she +looked round in vain for it in order to tie the boat to the shore. + +"You untied it," said he. + +"So I did," said she, "but I must have untied the wrong end. Well, I +guess the boat will stay here." Secretly Yulee hoped the boat wouldn't +stay; it would be so much more like a real wreck. + +"Now, the first thing we must do," said Yulee, "is to explore our island +and see if there are any savages on it. You give me the bow and arrows +and take your gun, and if you see a savage you mustn't fire at him, but +must wait a moment to see if he won't come and kneel down and be your +slave." + +Bo was frightened at this; he wasn't prepared for savages. "Do you +really think, Yulee," said he, "that there are savages here?" + +"I don't know," said she, "I've never been here before, but it's best to +be prepared. Don't you be afraid, Bobo," she added encouragingly; "you +know we can take to the boat if they chase us, and they'll fire darts, +but the darts will fall into the water all around us, and won't hit us +at all." + +"Do you think it's safe, Yulee, to leave the things so on the beach?" +asked Bo, as they started off on their tour of discovery. + +"Oh, yes," said she, "nobody will touch them, they never do; besides, +I've got the range with me." To be sure, she had the range in one hand, +but she had left the matches upon the beach as causing too much anxiety. +Thus they set off. Yulee with the range and the bow and arrows, and Bo +with his pop-gun. It did not take long to explore the island; it was +only about an acre in all, and irregular in shape. They came to the +clump of trees but did not dare go in, though Yulee was pretty sure that +the cave must be in there. They left that, however, for a future tour, +and came back without further adventure to their landing place, where +they found their stores safe upon the beach, but the boat to Bo's +consternation had drifted off from the shore, and was now some distance +away, floating down the Lake. + +"Oh, Yulee!" said he, "what shall we do I see the boat is gone!" + +"That is all right," said she cheerfully. "I wouldn't have been half so +much of a wreck if the boat had stayed. A'n't you glad we have got all +the things out? The next thing we must do is to build a house." + +"I'm hungry," said Bo. + +"Then we'll have dinner first," said she. "We'll have strawberries +to-day, but to-morrow we'll have fish, or you can shoot a goat." + +"But there a'n't any goats," said Bo. + +"Yes there are; they're in the cave in the clump of trees yonder." Bo +couldn't dispute that, but he demurred as to going in there to shoot +them. At present, however, they satisfied themselves with eating +strawberries, which were very plentiful upon the island. + +When they had eaten their strawberries, and had become quite crimson +about the mouth and finger-tips, they returned to the landing-place, +where Miss Phely had been keeping watch over the stores. She had been +placed in a sitting posture, leaning against a stone, and looking out +upon Clearwater as wide awake as when she had been put into the boat, +and with her arms and fingers extended as if she were delivering an +oration. She paid not the slightest attention to the valuables placed +under her guard. Bo began to look about for stones to throw into the +water while Yulee thought it a good time to attend to Miss Phely's +toilet; so she set busily to work changing her frock; when she had +finished this to her satisfaction and was debating whether it would be +well to wash her face also, she remembered suddenly, what she had +forgotten for the while, that she was a cast away. + +"Bo!" she cried, "we ought to be building our house." + +"What shall we make it of?" said he. She reflected a moment. + +"Sometimes they build them of trees and sometimes of skins; the best way +is to have a cave. I wish we had a cave, Bo. I've half a mind to try +those trees. Will you go in if I will?" + +"Ye-es," said Bo, hesitatingly; "but you must go in first." + +"Let's make a fire first in the range and have some tea," said Yulee, +who could not quite get up courage enough to go in among the trees. + +"Oh, do! that'll be fine!" said Bo, joyfully. It was a very important +business, this making a fire in the range. Yulee had long been looking +forward to it, and now that she was really about to have the fire she +proceeded very cautiously, Bo standing ready to help her and peering +anxiously into the process. The range was precisely like a real range, +only it was very small, and was made of lead instead of iron. It had a +grate in the middle for the fire and a place underneath to hold the +ashes; it had ovens at the sides; it had flues and dampers and a chimney +piece, and even a place in front to heat irons on; moreover, it was +furnished with a full set of pots and pans and kettles. In fact it was +complete, and in Yulee's opinion, only needed a fire in the grate, real +smoke coming out of the chimney, and a kettle of water boiling over it, +to make it the most wonderful and perfect thing that ever had been +conceived. + +Now she set about preparing the fire. First she laid in the newspaper in +which she had brought the matches; then Bo was sent off for leaves and +came back with some very green grass and leaves of different sorts. +Yulee put these very carefully above the paper, and on top of them she +laid some twigs that she had broken up into bits, and now the fire was +all ready to be lighted. + +"Now, Bo," said she, "we must have the water in the kettle and on the +range before we light the fire." So Bo took the pump to the lake side +and filled it with water, and then hanging the kettle under the nose of +the pump, he jerked the pump handle and made the water come plashing out +into the kettle. He could have filled the kettle much easier by simply +dipping it in the lake, but it would not have been near so good fun. +However, it was full of water, and Yulee carefully set it in its place +upon the range. Everything now was ready for the fire. Bo held his +breath as he leaned on his hands and knees, eagerly watching Yulee while +she proceeded to handle the dangerous matches. She took one in her hand +and was just about rubbing it on a stone, when she stopped. + +"Bo!" she said, "I think we had better set the table first for tea." + +"Why, no!" said he, "mother always sets the table after she has set the +kettle a boiling." + +"But I shall want to watch the fire," said Yulee.--"Yes, I think we had +better set the table first." So the match was laid down to Bo's grief, +and Yulee proceeded to unpack the box containing her tea-set. They chose +for a table a flat rock sunken in the sand, and just the right size. On +this they arranged the cups and saucers, and tea-pot and sugar-bowl and +creamer. + +"We ought to have some real sugar," said Bo. + +"So we ought," said Yulee. "There ought to be some in the ship's +stores," she added. "They generally find a box of sugar on the beach, a +little damaged by the water. At least I believe they did in Swiss Family +Robinson." + +"Did they in 'The Castaways?'" asked Bo. + +"No," said Yulee, "but you know they weren't exactly wrecked the second +time--Dr. Cameron went out to the ship when the rest were on shore, and +brought back some things--I think there was sugar; let me see--here it +is," and she read:-- + +"When the watering-boat touched the coast, Dr. Cameron went up and +courteously requested to be allowed to return in it, as the ladies had +forgotten some little necessaries, and he proposed to bring out their +own boat, the _Little Madras_, to enable them to procure these trifles +as well as the cooking-apparatus which would be useful if they were +detained a few days on shore." Mum, mum, mum. "They succeeded in +lowering their own boat, with its oars, and by Marshall's advice, +brought from their property the carpenter's chest, disguised under the +covering of a travelling trunk, with the powder and shot, ropes and +straps, which had been left in the hold of their boat; but every morsel +of provision, biscuit, wine and flour had been removed, and could not be +found. Dr. Cameron had fortunately locked up his cabin before he left +the vessel, and was able to remove his own private property consisting +of a bag of coffee, a loaf of sugar, and a chest which contained his +valuable medical stores, all of which he now placed in the boat." + +Our castaways, however, had to content themselves like some of their +betters with sand for sugar, which they put in the sugar bowl, and then +filled the creamer with water, though Yulee declared that some time +they would find the goats and milk them. The table was now set and Miss +Phely was given a place by it, where she sat, still looking out on the +water in an abstracted way, and keeping her hands away from her clean +frock. She had none of the friskiness commonly belonging to black +children; she was anything but a Topsy. + +Nothing now remained to be done but to light the fire and make the tea. +Again Yulee took a match and Bo stooped down, breathlessly watching the +operation. "Ritzch!" went the match and Yulee held it between the bars +of the range to light the fire; it didn't seem to burn very well though +there was considerable smoke; in fact, the match after burning to the +edge of Yulee's fingers went out, and the fire was not yet fairly +kindled. Yulee tried another match with about the same success, only a +little more smoke. + +"Burn a lot at a time," suggested Bo. So she took a bunch of six and got +them into a fine blaze. Bo was still peering anxiously while Yulee with +her face very red, and her sun-bonnet fallen back, held the bunch of +matches between the bars; she tried them first between two and then +between another two. All at once something hot fell upon her hand; she +dropped the matches in the pan that was to hold the ashes and clapping +her other hand upon the spot, began hopping up and down with the pain +but determined not to cry. + +"Why! what is the matter?" said Bo, in great surprise. Yulee didn't dare +trust herself to speak--she was so afraid she might cry, but uncovered +her hand to show him, and there they both saw--for she had not looked at +it herself yet,--a shining spot as large as a three cent piece, and that +looked like silver. + +"Why!" exclaimed Yulee. + +"Oh!" said Bo. + +Yulee forgot her pain for a moment. How did it get there? what was it? +she touched it and found that it came off easily. It was irregular at +the edges, looking in fact like a spatter of silver. + +"What is it?" asked Bo. + +"What can it be?" said Yulee. "It looks like silver." She looked toward +the range to see if that could explain it. Then she burst into a loud +cry. + +"Oh, Bo! Oh, Bo!" said she, "the range! the range!" Alas, the matches +that had been dropped into the ash-pan, had burnt on and flamed up, +melting the lead bars, the first drop from which had burnt poor Yulee's +hand. The sticks in the grate had fallen through with the heap of +matches, and catching fire, the melting had gone on until now the +beautiful range was a sad sight to behold. The kettle just then gave +way, and tipping up, spilled the water over, which hissed on the molten +lead and caused a great smoke to rise from the burning embers. + +Yulee and Bo gazed wofully on the ruin before them. It was too hot at +first to touch, and they stood for some time in front of it, looking at +the odd shapes that the melting lead had taken. If it had not been for +that, they would have been much worse off; but the drops of lead were so +curious and looked so much like animals and pieces of silver, that they +almost forgot for the time their great loss. But they soon remembered it +again and looked sadly at the range. + +"Don't you suppose it can be mended?" said Bo. + +"I don't know," said Yulee shaking her head, "I don't believe it can. +What will mother say!" + +"Yulee!" said Bo, suddenly, "I think we ought to pump on it so as to put +the fire out." So he ran for his pump which had not been emptied in +filling the kettle, and though the trough was somewhat in the way, he +managed to spill out the rest of the water on to the hot range, while +Yulee brought the cream-jug and emptied its contents also on it. By this +time the range was pretty cool and they could handle it; but it was in a +sad state, quite melted out. + +Yulee tried to solace herself with making tea for Miss Phely; but it was +miserable comfort to make tea with cold water that had not even made +believe boil as usual on the wonderful range. As for Miss Phely, she was +as unconcerned as ever, and seemed equally indifferent whether the water +were hot or cold, or even whether the tea were made or not, and sat +staring out upon the lake. + + * * * * * + +But June afternoons, long as they are, have an end at last; and this +afternoon was drawing to a close. In the eagerness of making the fire, +the little Castaways had not noticed how late it was growing, but now, +when they were so disappointed and were sitting with Miss Phely +disconsolately by the rock, they saw that the sun had set, and that +evening was closing in. + +Yes, the night was coming; they had hardly thought of this before and +were not at all prepared for it. But it was still warm, for the June +afternoon lingers long and far into the evening. Then they fell to +eating strawberries again, for make-believe tea where everything is +water and sand is not very satisfactory. After the strawberrying they +came back to the shore again, and little Bo, now quite disheartened +began to make a noise which sounded a little like crying, it was a +whimper; but Yulee was brave and kept her courage up, and began telling +Bo stories which she had read about people who had been cast away upon +islands; but somehow or other she always seemed to remember best the +parts where they were attacked by savages and wild beasts, and +especially by her favourite hippopotamus. So that Bo only grew more +terrified and as it became darker began to fancy he heard animals +around them, and once actually thought he saw a great hippopotamus with +open jaws coming out of Clearwater toward them. Yulee tried to read "The +Castaways," but it soon became too dark. Yet she wouldn't give in to +fear, but kept her courage stoutly. + +"Bo," said she, "it's getting dark and I think it must be time to put +Miss Phely to bed." + +"I want to go to bed," said Bo. "I want to go to mother!" and little Bo +cried now without any doubt. Yulee bravely kept back her tears and tried +to comfort Bo, who soon began to take an interest in the unrobing of +Miss Phely, who was put to bed on a very uncomfortable rock--the very +one in fact at which she had sat for her tea; but it made no difference +to her; she went to sleep with her eyes as wide open as ever. + +When this was over, Yulee, never at a loss, began to sing for Bo's +amusement and her own comfort. She sang all the songs she knew just as +they came into her head. "There is a happy land," "Three little +kittens." "Pop goes the weasel," "The sunday-school," and some others +which I have forgotten. Would you believe it? Bo fell fast asleep with +his head in her lap. Then Yulee felt less badly; before she had been +troubled about Bo, but now that he was asleep, leaning so upon her, she +felt a courage at having one depending upon her whom she must never +desert, no, not even if a hippopotamus, as she said, were to come toward +them. + +But no hippopotamus came; instead of that, she saw a boat with a light +twinkling in it, come rowing down the lake toward the island. The house +and the boat-landing could not be seen from the island, because as I +said, there was a point of land jutting out, and because the lake too +makes a bend. Yulee was singing the song about the little robins as the +boat came round the point. She was singing the line + + "And what will the robins do then, poor things!" + +And looked up at that moment, just as her father catching the sound of +her voice--called out: + +"There she is! bless her little soul, singing about the robins! Yulee!" + +"Here I am, father," said the little Castaway. "Bo, wake up! here's +father." Bo gave a sort of snuffle and went to sleep again. The boat +with a few pulls was now brought up to the island, and John Robin +jumping out, while the boys sat in the boat caught up Yulee and Bo in +his arms. + +"I've a good mind to give you a good whipping on the spot, you little +runaways!" said he; but he did no such thing; perhaps he thought he +would leave that to their mother. Bo opened his eyes and blinked in the +light of the lanterns, but went right to sleep again on his father's +shoulder. + +"We didn't run away," said Yulee, "we were cast away in the _Little +Madras_." + +"Where's the boat, Yulee?" asked one of her brothers. + +"Oh that was washed away of course," said she. + +"Why _of course_?" + +"Why, they always are," said she, "and they make new ones out of logs." + +"Why didn't you make one out of a log, then?" he asked laughing. But +Yulee was too busy collecting her treasures to answer his foolish +question. She got them all safely on board at last, Miss Phely being +unceremoniously huddled into the boat without waiting to be dressed. +Now Yulee was reminded of her poor unfortunate range; but she said +nothing about it, only gathering up its ruins and taking especial care +of it. + +Yulee was very talkative at first, but her father was grave and silent, +and her brothers teased her, so that she soon stopped talking and began +wondering in her mind how she ever was to get the range mended, and +whether there was a cave in the grove of trees which she was very sorry +now she had not explored; she secretly determined to make a second trip +to the island for that purpose as soon as possible. + +But when they came to the shore and walked up to the house, and when +Yulee found her mother half wild with thinking she had been drowned, and +her grandfather, old Benjy Robin, crooning in his arm-chair and saying +he had been the death of them,--she began to think it was not so fine, +and lay down that night penitently in her little bed and promised over +and over never to be cast away again. As for Bo, he would do just as +Yulee said, but he privately resolved never to follow her to sea at any +rate. Even Miss Phely appeared so much the worse for her knocking about +that I think she must have been better satisfied with her corner in the +nursery; but as for repenting of her folly or blaming Yulee, I never +heard of her doing so. She always looked contented and indifferent. + +[Illustration] + + + + +A Faery Surprise Party. + +LILLIE'S STORY. + + + + +A Faery Surprise Party. + + +[Illustration] + +My name is Jack Frost, and I have a story to tell. If you don't know who +I am, ask my friend North East Wind, Esq., and he will tell you, and +whistle a tune which he made up about me. I am Painter to her Beauty +Mab, Queen of the Faeries. She gives me plenty of work to do; in the +summer-time I go North, like other artists, to take sketches, but when +the winter comes then I come back and paint my pictures. I paint chiefly +on glass, though sometimes on pottery, the night is the time I like +best to work in, for in the day-time the sun tries to put some colour +into the paintings, which spoils them; white is the only colour I ever +use. + +I was going to tell you, however, a story about what I saw the other +night. Queen Mab sent a snow-flake to me with a message. I was to paint +eight large squares of glass in a certain window of a certain house. I +might paint what I chose only it must be done in good season, for the +Queen was to visit the painting when it was finished. So I was at the +glass and at work early--'twas only a little after sundown; my friend, +North East Wind, jolly old fellow! was whistling a tune right merrily as +I handled my brush. + +There was a light inside the room, and I could see everything that was +going on there; I could hear everything too, for there was a crack in +one of the panes of glass; these cracks spoil my paintings--I never can +make any mark on the glass close to them--but how ever, here was this +crack, and I could make out through it everything that was going on. A +nurse was putting a little girl named Milly to bed, and they talked +incessantly. Milly was to have a party the next day, which was her sixth +birth-day; it was to be her first party. All things had been made ready +for it; she had had a new dress, white with red spots like wafers all +over it, and she was to wear a red sash and bronze kid slippers. Twelve +little girls had been invited, but only eleven were sure to come; Susan +Peabody was sick, and might not be there. + +All this I heard, and I saw Milly tucked up in bed and left to go to +sleep. Then I worked with a will, for I had no time to spare. I begged +my jolly friend, N. E. Wind, to be off with himself, as he interrupted +my work. So he gave one long wheugh! and away he went. + +At twelve o'clock my painting was done. It was the best piece I had done +in a long while; one square of glass in particular was superb, though I +say it that ought not say it. It was a picture of the palace of Queen +Mab; towers and spires were there, hung with crystal bells; the castle +was set round with trees, some slim, shooting up above the towers, some +stunted throwing out their branches in every direction. The whole +glittered most brilliantly. There was a network over all, as if a spider +had spun silver threads in front of it. I very often put that on +afterwards to add to the effect, though my friend North East Wind +pooh-poohs at it; but he knows nothing about art. + +It was twelve o'clock, as I said, and the moon was shining brightly; as +it rose higher, a moon-beam passed through the window, and through the +very square of glass that I had taken such pains with. It passed like a +carriage-way right by the great door of the Queen's palace, while the +other end rested on the bed where Milly was sleeping. I was standing on +the window sash, just touching up the work a little, when, all of a +sudden, what should I see but her Beauty Queen Mab with eleven +attendants; she came out of the great door of the palace I had +painted--that was the finest effect of all. + +She got into her sleigh which is made of a dove-feather, curling up in +front, and which is drawn by twelve lady birds: the lady birds all had +on robes of caterpillar fuz to keep them warm. The retinue of eleven +Faeries were all riding on milk-white steeds of dandelion-down. The +Queen held the reins herself, and cracking the whip which is made of a +musquito leg, away they went over the moon-beam. The Queen saw me just +as they left the palace, and gave me a nod. She is very gracious! It did +not take them long to reach the bed, I can tell you, and they reined up +at the other end of the moon-beam, which rested on Milly's breast. + +I wondered what they were going to do here, but it was very soon +evident. It seems the Queen knew of the party Milly was to have, and +meant to get the better of her by giving her a surprise party first. So +she had brought the eleven Faeries with her--just the number of little +girls Milly was to have the next day. + +The Queen got out of her sleigh, and tied the ladybirds to the strings +of Milly's night-cap, that they might not run away. Then she walked +along very carefully till she came to Milly's chin. She climbed up it +and rested there for a minute, to get breath, and then went on, until +she was safely perched on Milly's red lip, where she was nearly blown +away, Milly breathed so hard. + +Here she beckoned to the eleven and they, leaving their horses below, +all set out to reach Milly's forehead, where she told them to gather. A +hard time they had of it, too! some of them tried to get up by the nose, +but the wind coming out of two great caves was too strong for them; +others more wisely crept round by the corners of the eyes, and scrambled +up the precipice there. But those who fared worst were a few who tried +to get through the hair. They got lost in the forest, and wandered about +for a long time, halloing and trying to find the top. You may wonder why +they didn't fly--I suppose you think Faeries always do--but I know +better. When winter comes they always take off their wings, and put them +carefully away where the moths can not touch them--chiefly in old +nut-shells; then in spring, their mantua-makers and milliners, the +caterpillars and spiders, get them out and put them in repair, or else +make new ones. + +However, they all at last safely reached the forehead. That was a fine +large play-ground for them--the forest behind, and the hill and +precipices below. Here they formed a ring and took hold of hands. + + Round the ring run, + Pass in and out, + Melt into one, + Puff! turn about! + +cried Queen Mab, and in a twinkling the ring of Faeries was going round +and round, till it looked just like a glittering ring, perfectly still; +then all in a moment they had stopped, and each Faery in turn ran across +the ring, ducked between two Faeries, was back again, then between two +more, and so on, till I got perfectly confused, and couldn't tell one +from another, they seemed so mixed up; they kept getting more and more +in a maze, and nearer and nearer to each other, until it was just one +solid ball of Faeries; spinning round like a top; then suddenly the ball +seemed to burst, and the Faeries to scatter in every direction, but +really there was a perfect ring again, and whirling round in just the +opposite direction. And then the same thing was done over again, till I +should have thought they would all have been ready to drop. + +But that came to an end after a while, for they heard the Queen scream, +and they stopped to see what the matter might be. It was nothing, though +the Queen was a good deal frightened at first. Milly, who was probably +dreaming about them, smiled very prettily in her sleep, and as the lip +moved, the Queen perched on it almost lost her balance, and came as near +as possible to falling into the pit that was open before her. If she had +fallen in, she would have struck against Milly's teeth, and that might +have been the death of her. She got over her fright soon, and moved a +little farther back to get out of harm's way. This put an end to the +dance. + +After some games of hide and seek when they hid in the eyebrows and the +edge of the forest, they had a Tableau. The subject was "The Faery's +Sacrifice." That is a favourite story with them. I myself have painted +it on glass. A Faery--so the story runs--was once in great danger from a +Musquito; it would certainly have caught her and killed her, though she +was winged and flying very swiftly; but just then a horse of +dandelion-down came gliding by; she jumped on it and they two together +were too swift for the Musquito and she escaped; but they went so fast +through the wind that the poor horse lost almost all his down and +finally dropped upon the ground from sheer inability to go further. The +Faery loved him so for saving her that she pulled out her own wings and +fastened them on the horse;--away he went, and she had to creep home as +well as she could. But she did right though she suffered for it; she was +never sorry, and the story is told by the Faeries to their children. +This was the story that they played in the Tableau. There were two +scenes; in the first the Faery is just mounting the horse to escape the +Musquito--the Musquito of course they had to make believe was there, in +the second the horse lies panting on the ground and she is leaning over +it weeping. There should have been a third, as there usually is, where +she puts the wings on the horse, but they had no material with them for +that scene. + +Then came a Charade. The word was a very easy one--I guessed it +myself--it was _Duty_. It was divided into two parts; the first was +_dew_. Dew is a drink of the Faeries in summer-time. Half a dozen +Faeries sat in a circle. The hat of one of them which was made of a bit +of rose-leaf, they twisted and turned till it looked a little like the +cup of a violet, though the colour wasn't exact. This they put in the +middle; but where was the dew? there was none of course, so one of the +Faeries had crept down, got on a dandelion-down horse's back and ridden +over the moon-beam to the window. In the crack of the sash he got a wee +bit of ice that made part of a drop of water when he held it in his +hand. It looked like dew, and he managed to get it safely back without +spilling much. This had been put in the hat or pretended violet cup. +Each of the Faeries, according to custom, took a spoon in hand and +slowly stirred the dew in the cup. The spoons they use are made of +pieces of the stamens of different flowers; here they had make-believe +spoons made out of bits of hair from Milly's eyebrows. They stirred the +dew in the cup, and as they stirred they sang the Dew drinking +chorus:-- + + "The shining Dew in the Violet cup + Flows round and round in a silvery flood:-- + Against the sides we'll dash the dew up,-- + Then drink! and cool our summer-hot blood." + +But though they each in turn lifted the cup, they only pretended to +drink, for it was icy cold. + +That was for _du_; next came _ty_. + +This was done thus. They had a marriage-scene. Two little Faeries stood +up together, and the one that was to marry them took a hair from each of +their heads, and fastening the ends together, made a long string; with +this he tied them together in a true-lover knot; for such is the way the +Faeries do when they are married. + +This was for _ty_; then came the whole word. + +A Faery is seen busily occupied with weaving; she is making a veil for a +human maiden which shall keep her from seeing sin; the Faery is singing +to herself. Presently up comes a little Brownie--a male Faery that +is--most daintily dressed and in the gayest mood. He wants the little +weaving Faery to come with him; there is to be a most delicious little +gathering in a clover-field on purpose to sip clover-honey--white +clover-honey! Now of all things the little busy Faery loves +clover-honey; it would be so delightful to be there this charming +afternoon. She thinks she will go, but then she remembers the task which +the Queen has given her to do--to go would be to disobey. The Brownie +still begs, but she is firm--no, she will not go. + +That was the whole word--_Duty_. + +All this was very simple; a good many would have thought it very +childish, but it pleased the Faeries and it pleased the Queen, and that +was enough. + +But the party had lasted a long time now--much longer than it has taken +me to tell of it. The moon path was of course altered, but it didn't +make much matter. The Queen ordered them all to take to their horses, +and giving Milly a kiss on her rosy lips, she clambered down and untying +the lady birds from the strings of the night-cap got into her sleigh. +She cracked her musquito-leg whip, away went the lady birds and they +passed through the window--how, I don't know, but I'm sure I saw them +do it. The Queen saw me again as she passed out, and nodded to me. I had +just time to nod back and they were out of sight. + +That is all, and if it's not true then my name isn't Jack Frost; and if +you don't believe me, ask North East Wind, who is my friend, and he will +tell you the same thing. + +Wheugh! + +[Illustration] + + + + +The Rock Elephant. + + + + +The Rock-Elephant. + + +[Illustration] + +There is a tradition among the Elephants that some one of the race will +one day mount up to the sky and dwell among the stars. Once a young +elephant thought that he must be the one, for a great stone becoming +detached from a cliff fell upon his head. He instantly exclaimed, "I see +stars all around me. I am surely the Elephant foretold!" and for a few +moments actually thought he must have "gone up;" but those standing by +saw him rambling round with uncertain step and laughed at him. When he +got over the effects of the blow on his head, he had to acknowledge that +he was still upon the earth, though he always solemnly declared that for +a few moments he really had been in the sky among the stars. Of course +he had not "gone up," and each still continued to hope that he was the +one destined to immortality. The Lion, they said, was among the stars, +and the Bear and even the senseless Dipper. But none knew that to live +among the stars one must go through a great deal of suffering. + +There were two Elephants living a long time since who were remarkably +sagacious. They were married and it was their earnest desire that their +son, if they ever had any, should be the one who should climb the sky +and live among the stars. They often talked over the best way of +securing this good, and ate up an immense number of different kinds of +trees because they had heard that there was a particular kind of tree +which, when eaten, would furnish the necessary knowledge. Whether they +ever ate the right tree or not it is difficult to say, but one night as +they were considering the matter, the father-Elephant noticed a strange +light in the north. + +"Look, my dear!" said he, "surely the woods are a-fire in the north!" + +"Oh!" said she, "it is only the moon rising." + +"Hold your trunk!" said he, sharply. "Are you such a camel as not to +know that the moon never rises in the north?" But on second thoughts, he +added, "I don't think it can be the woods on fire. See! the light is +streaming up the sky. How many colours it has!" + +"Perhaps it is the rainbow," timidly suggested the mother-Elephant. + +"Rainbow! your Grandelephant!" retorted he, contemptuously. They stood +looking at the increasing light for some time longer with their trunks +elevated, the mother-Elephant wisely refraining from further comment; +when suddenly the father-Elephant, in a state of great excitement, began +whisking his trunk about, and turning, ran his ivory tusks against the +large sides of the mother. It was his way of expressing joy. "Have a +care!" said she, impatiently, clumsily avoiding his thrusts. "Do you +want to make a hole in me?" + +"I have it! I have it!" said he, joyfully. "That is the way to the +stars! all we have to do is to reach the foot of these Northern Lights, +and then there must be some ascent by them to the stars." Hereupon the +Elephant began to dance about as well as he could, and tore up several +small trees by the roots in his exultation. The mother-Elephant, +however, had her doubts. + +"I don't believe," said she, "that we shall be any more likely to reach +these lights than I was to get to the foot of the rainbow, which you +know I tried once and had the mortification of being laughed at by the +monkeys in consequence. Nevertheless, I will do as you say, my dear; you +know best." + +That very night, accordingly, the two set out in search of the Northern +Lights. They travelled for days and weeks. Every once in a while, when +they began to get discouraged, the Aurora would appear and they would +press on with new hope. At last they came to a very cold country. Here +they made enquiries of a polar bear. Now the Polar Bear is generally +courteous. Like all the family he is very affectionate and always gives +one a hearty embrace upon meeting; but he is not sincere. It so happened +that his family also had a story and about these very Northern Lights. +The story was, that if one could find the foot of them one would +discover an immense hole or pit where one could sleep forever. This was +precisely what the polar bears most wanted, and they were forever going +north in search of the hole. This particular Polar Bear that the +Elephants met was at that very time on his way thither. So he thought to +himself, "This will never do. If these immense animals reach the +hole--for I'm sure that is what they are going for, the idea of the +stars is only an absurd blind--they will occupy all the room." This he +said to himself, and then he turned to the Elephants and said in answer +to their question as to the most direct road--"You will have to keep to +the east for some distance; then you will come to ice; cross it and you +will come to land again, after which you can again enquire as I am +unable to direct you further; though if you go a little south, and call +on my cousins, the Black Bears, they will be very happy to give you any +information. Just mention my name to them and it will be sufficient." He +knew very well that the Black Bears knew nothing whatever of the matter. +What they wished was to find the Great Tree up which they could climb +and in which they could burrow. But all that the Polar Bear wanted was +to put the Elephants off the track. + +They thanked him for his politeness, and followed his directions. They +came to the ice which they crossed; and once more they trode on land, +but upon a new continent--upon North America, in fact, as it is now +called. "I am not so sure about this matter of going south," said the +father-Elephant. "It seems to me that we shall be going away from the +Northern Lights. I begin to mistrust the Polar Bear." + +"But my dear," said the mother-Elephant, "surely the way has been just +as he told us; and I could never doubt one so evidently warm-hearted. +Besides, don't you think it would be best to get where it is a little +warmer? You know we don't propose going ourselves; the journey is taken +solely on account of our son not yet born. We might let him grow a +little in a warmer country and then conduct him to the Northern Lights." + +The father-Elephant would not agree with her; he preferred to have his +own way; but finally he said: "I think we will go a little farther +South, on the whole. I am not sure but there is an easier way of getting +to the North, by taking just a little southerly and then an easterly +course." This was a very foolish reason, but it satisfied him. All he +wished was to do as he chose and not because his wife advised it. It +satisfied her too. All she wanted was to get where it was a little +warmer; but she found it hard not to say--"that is just the plan I +proposed." She was wise not to say it however. + +They had suffered a great deal by this time. So much travel and so much +severe weather, had brought sorrow and discomfort to them. They were +really thin for Elephants. The father-Elephant had lost much flesh, and +his skin hung about him very loosely. They complained too of the trees; +they were so stunted and such poor eating. They were, in truth, very +miserable. They even began to care but little for the object of their +journey. The object was changed in fact. Before, they were only anxious +to reach the Northern Lights--the staircase to the stars. Now, all they +desired was to reach a warmer place--one like that where they once +lived. + +At last the father-Elephant, overcome by all his trouble died; but the +mother-Elephant sustained by the hope of her unborn son, still pressed +toward the South, and rejoiced as the days grew warmer. Finally, she +reached a pleasant place where the hills were all about her, and the sun +shone warmly. Here was born the young Elephant, the son of the two +Elephants who had travelled so far. The mother now felt herself very +weak. + +"My son," she began with great difficulty, "there is a tradition"--but +just as she got through the word, she died, and the young Elephant in +vain listened for the rest of the sentence. + +"What's a tradition? I wonder," he said to himself. "It must be +something to eat, I am excessively hungry." He looked round and saw a +birch tree standing by. "Ah! that must be the tradition my mother meant, +when she said, 'There is a tradition.' Yes, her trunk is pointing to +it." So he pulled up the birch tree and devoured it, as well as he +could. The young Elephant continued to wander among the mountains but +with no great purpose in life; for he was totally ignorant of the story +that one of his race would one day mount to the sky and dwell among the +stars, so that he was without that great object before him. Neither did +he know how much suffering his father and mother had gone through, that +he might be the fortunate Elephant who should ascend the sky. It was +spring when he was born. The days grew warmer and warmer and he enjoyed +them exceedingly. But after a while the days became shorter and the sun +was not so hot. + +"What is the meaning of this?" he one day asked of a Black Bear with +whom he was somewhat intimate. + +"It means," said the Bear gruffly, "that bye-and-bye the sun will go a +great way off, the snow will be on the ground; there will be no whortle +berries to eat, and I shall go to sleep." + +"Dreadful!" said the Elephant. "Is there no way of avoiding such +discomfort?" + +"None that I know of or care for," said the Bear. "Roll yourself up and +go to sleep as I do, and you'll be comfortable enough." But the Elephant +despaired of ever rolling himself up; he was growing larger every day +and such a proceeding was of course becoming more and more difficult. + +"Let us call a council of the animals," said he, "and see what is to be +done about it." Now the Elephant was greatly feared in the place. He was +so large and powerful. So no animal dared disobey when the Hare whom the +Elephant had sent brought the message to them. They assembled about a +deep pool. The Elephant opened the meeting by dipping his trunk into the +pool and squirting water over all the animals. He thought it was great +fun, and they did not dare run away, for they feared his anger. + +"The Elephant is very good-natured," whispered the Otter, who cared +nothing for the wetting, to the Fox who was shivering under his ducking, +and contriving a way of getting off. "You never see a large fat fellow +but he is so good-natured. What a joke that was of his to squirt water +all over the crowd!" + +"V-v-very," chattered the Fox. "It isn't what you call a dry joke, +though, is it?" + +"What a cunning fellow you are!" said the Otter. "But, holloa, are you +going off on the sly?" Yes, surely the Fox was starting away. + +"Tell the Elephant," said he, "that I'm off after a partridge. We shall +want something to eat after meeting." But he did not come back again. +While they were all shivering with the wet, the Elephant wiping the end +of his trunk upon some moss, opened his mouth and spake. + +"I notice," quoth he, "that it is not as warm as it was, and my friend +the Bear at my right hand (here the bear sitting on his hind legs nodded +his head and growled,) tells me that it will grow much colder even. It +would be a great calamity to all of us, and I have called you together +that we may confer as to the best means of avoiding this severe cold +that is to come, which my friend the Bear (another growl) calls by the +name of winter. You are at liberty to make any suggestions you please." + +The Wolf spoke first. "Who cares for the winter?" snarled he. "For my +part I think it is great sport. The snow grows very hard, and one glides +over the crust so swiftly. Besides, it is easy then to see the footsteps +of my little friends," and the Wolf leered round upon the smaller +animals. "The winter is grand sport." + +"But I could not walk on the crust," said the Elephant, "I am too heavy. +No, it will not do at all just to take the winter as you would any other +season. We must either prevent the winter or protect ourselves from it. +Let us hear the Hare. I am not above listening to him." + +The Hare came out trembling and hardly dared open his mouth. His friend +the Squirrel, however, stood near and clapped to reassure him. "Go it, +Long Ears!" said he, encouragingly. Then the Hare bashfully spoke. "My +own course is to make a hole and get into it." Saying this, he hopped +back to his seat alarmed that he should have said so much. + +"That is very ridiculous!" said the Elephant. "It would be quite absurd +to expect me to make a hole and get into it." Just then there was a +rustling noise over head, and a dark cloud seemingly passed over them. +"What is that?" asked the Elephant. No one answered at first, when the +Squirrel came forward in a deferential manner and said: "Please your +Bigness, that is a flock of geese flying to the South. They go every +winter to keep warm." + +"Do they?" said the Elephant. "Why shouldn't I too go South to keep +warm?" No one objected to this; they all secretly hoped he would go, +except indeed the Wolf, who had been counting on the Elephant falling a +prey to him. At last the Squirrel spoke again. + +"Please your Bigness, I can show you the way to the South if you wish +it." + +"Pray what do you know about the South?" asked the Wolf, sneeringly, +"How would you go to get there?" + +"Follow my tail!" retorted the Squirrel. + +"I think I will go to the South," said the Elephant, "and the Squirrel +may go with me to show the way. We will start immediately; there is no +time to be lost. Stay you all about here till I return." And off he +walked, preceded by the Squirrel. + +"How thankful I am that he has gone!" said the Hare, "but I wish the +Squirrel had not gone with him." The Wolf was savage at the idea of the +Elephant's going off and depriving him thus of such a fine winter's +provision. He showed his teeth fearfully. And when the night was later, +he stole swiftly and silently along the path over which the Elephant and +Squirrel had gone. "He will go to sleep," said the Wolf, "and then I +will spring upon him." He came up with the Elephant after a while, and +found him as he expected fast asleep, with the Squirrel perched on one +of his tusks. But the Squirrel kept good watch. He saw the gleaming eyes +of the Wolf and knew that he came for no good. Quickly he jumped upon +the Elephant's trunk, and running down to the end of it tickled it with +his tail. This instantly awoke the Elephant. It was no use now for the +Wolf to spring upon him. He could only hope to get the mastery of him if +he caught him asleep and off his guard. So the Wolf slunk back into the +woods again. + +In the morning the Elephant and Squirrel again took up their march. For +several days they walked toward the South, until they came one morning +to a river that was flowing quietly along. It was not a wide river; it +was hardly more than a brook, and one could scarcely hear a sound, it +flowed so smoothly. It ran through the forest, its edges skirted with +rows of flowers, and its banks cushioned with every variety of moss. +There was hardly a large stone in it for the water to eddy about. The +Squirrel ran up the Elephant's back, and he in two or three steps waded +across. It was not above his knee in any place. Once over on the other +side, the Squirrel ran down the Elephant's fore-leg to the ground. The +Elephant drank some of the cool water and then amused himself with +squirting it about in every direction. He aimed it chiefly at some rocks +that lay by the side of the river--rocks of all sizes and shapes. This +sport grew tiresome, however, and the Elephant began to look about for +some new fun. The rocks again met his eye. + +"What fun it would be," said he to the Squirrel, "if I should pitch +these rocks into the river." Saying this he twisted his trunk round an +immense boulder and flung it into the bed of the stream. + +"Oh!" screamed the Squirrel. "Don't do so! you will hurt the river." + +"It deserves to be hurt," said the Elephant. "What business has it to +flow along without making any noise. I'll teach it to sing." He threw +rock after rock into the river, piling them high up in some places. The +Squirrel looked on mournfully, and could bear it at last no longer. He +ran to the Elephant and looked up into his face. + +"Do you remember the first night we left home," said he, "how I +prevented the Wolf from killing you? For my sake, then, do not destroy +or hurt the river!" At this the Elephant grew very angry. + +"Go to the Wolf with your nonsense!" said he, and lifting his heavy +foot, he cruelly stepped upon the little Squirrel and crushed him to +death. The Elephant was now perfectly fiendish. He raised his trunk in +the air and blew a terrible trumpet sound. He hurled rock after rock +into the stream. He walked down its side and kept casting in the rocks +and stones that lay about so plentifully. The river, when the first +stone fell in was shocked by it, and eddied around it in a petulant way. +As stone after stone came splashing in, choking its current, the river +more loudly complained and remonstrated, but to no purpose. Still the +rocks came crushing down, and now the river growing more and more angry, +rushed foaming madly along. Over the rocks and between it rushed and +roared. The moss on the banks and the tall flowers growing out of it, +trembled as the stream rose higher and higher. The Elephant snorted and +blew his terrible trumpet, walking up and down, and throwing rocks and +trees up-torn by the roots, into the rushing flood. At last the rocks +were all thrown in. Not one was left on the banks. + +Where now was the beautiful, quiet river? It was turned by the +remorseless Elephant into an angry, hateful flood. It was the Mad River. +Where was the little Squirrel that had saved the Elephant's life and +led him hither, and pleaded for the lovely river that it might be +spared? Dead! crushed by the unthankful, cruel Elephant, and swept down +the stream that dashed so fiercely along! + + * * * * * + +The Elephant, after he had done this deed of violence, left Mad River +and walked into the woods beyond, cooler in spirit since his anger had +spent itself. He began now to reflect upon his conduct. "The river had +done nothing to me," he thought, "that I should treat it so harshly. And +the Squirrel--I killed the Squirrel, who was my best friend. That was an +unkind act." But though the Elephant thus began to blame himself, he +never thought of turning back, and undoing as much as he might of the +mischief he had done. He kept on his journey and tried to dismiss from +his mind such unpleasant thoughts. The Elephant is called good-natured +because he is so fat; that may be, but really he is both cruel and +cowardly. + +[Illustration: "He hurled rock after rock into the stream."] + +He was somewhat fatigued by his angry labours and did not go much +further, but coming to a grassy place in the depth of the forest, he lay +down and slept. Nightfall came soon after and still he slept. In the +depth of the night, when all was still and dark, the sky in the north +grew brighter as rays of light shot in quivering ecstasy toward the +zenith. It was the Northern Lights--the Aurora Borealis. The parents of +this Elephant had long sought it but had never reached it; they had +hoped that it would be the staircase up which their son, the Elephant, +now asleep, would mount the sky to dwell among the stars. Still he +slept, though the light grew clearer and the rays became more distinctly +marked. It was now twelve o'clock and deep night. What was that +descending the slope of the Auroral Light? Who could tell? Who saw it? +Yet the Elephant in his sleep saw it. Down the slope he knew It +come--down the staircase which was the way to immortality. Now It +hovered near him and thus he heard It speak:-- + +"Thou hast sinned. The river that flowed so peacefully and carried +beauty and joy wherever it ran, thou hast despoiled and rudely ravaged. +Thou smotest its breast with terrible rocks; thou wouldst not heed its +complaining cry; thou turnedst its peace into mad wrangling. But worse, +thou slewest with thine own foot the little one that loved thee and +saved thy life from the fierce Wolf. For this the river and the Squirrel +shall be avenged. Thou didst choke the river with rocks; thou didst +crush the Squirrel with thy foot. Thou shalt thyself become a stone and +another shall stand on thy head. Arise!" + +The Elephant obeyed trembling. He stood upon his feet. For one moment he +saw with his mortal eyes It that had spoken; the next he was blinded by +a flash; he saw no more, but he knew that in that instant he was turned +into a rock where he was standing. His feet were sunk in the ground and +his trunk extended before him was also rooted in the earth. All stone. +Where his eyes were, only two slight chinks in the rock remained. + +But at the same moment the Elephant heard,--so faintly that he could +hardly catch the sound--a last word from the voice:-- + +"Thus, but not forever. A Deliverer shall come and thou shalt mount up +to the sky and dwell among the stars." + +That was what the Elephant heard. He heard nothing more but he could +feel. He could feel himself a stone; that is a dreadful thing to feel. +It was a heavy, crushing feeling; a dead weight always bearing him down. +He could not lift it; he could not throw it off. It was forever crushing +him down, down,--though he never really sank. But it was the same thing +to him; he felt that he was sinking. + +But he had another evil to bear. A tree with its roots sunk in the +ground all about him, stood directly over his head. That was a bitter +suffering to him; he could feel it there. He knew that it was stretching +its long arms into the air and waving its branches in the wind. He knew +that its roots grappled his body and grew tighter fixed in the earth. +The tree, indeed, died in time, but another took its place and the +torment grew with it. For it kept in his mind the Squirrel he had +killed. He could stolidly bear the crushing weight of the rock bringing +remorse at the recollection of the happy river that he had made an +angry brawling stream,--but the tree--it was a birch, the very kind that +he had first devoured after the death of his mother, the tree, that +moving with every breath of air, stirred in his mind the recollection of +the Squirrel he had killed, who had loved him, saved him from death, and +died beside for love of the river--the tree he thought he could not +bear. + +But still through all his remorse and bitter anguish, the Elephant +seemed to hear, though faintly, the last words spoken: + +"But not forever. A Deliverer shall come, and thou shalt mount the sky +and dwell among the stars." + +This was the only slight ray of comfort, though he did not always +remember it, but still when the morning sun arose and its beams fell +upon the rock, it awakened the remembrance in the Elephant's mind, and +he repeated to himself, "A Deliverer shall come." And sometimes in the +deep and still night, the Aurora flushing in the north would lighten up +a deeper and more cheering hope, for by it he thought would the +Deliverer come. + +But though the Deliverer has not yet come, still some small comfort does +the Elephant have. For the gentle mosses have grown over his stony body; +the mosses on the river bank he had terrified and roughly beaten with +the jagged rocks. Now did these spread themselves over him, covering him +with green verdure and gladdening his soul with the love they gave him. +The tree, too, drops yearly its leaves upon his back, and the roots, +though they hug him closer, seem to him to do it more lovingly and not +with the old terrible gripe. + +Yes, all these things make him mindful of the Deliverer. He knows not in +what form he will come, but I will tell you. A Squirrel shall finally +gnaw away the roots of the tree and it will fall never to rise again. +The river, turning its course, shall flow over and about him, and its +constant washing shall wear away the rock. The rocky covering gone, in +the night, the deep and still night, the Aurora of the north shall +stream upon the bed of the river, and where the rock once stood shall +rise up the Elephant, and the Squirrel that once led him shall now go +before him and lead him up the quivering rays to the sky, where he +shall become a constellation never before seen by men, but then +discovered and named + +The Elephant. + +Now he sleeps still in the deep forest. It must all be true, for I have +seen him there, and so have others. + + _Vaterville, Valley of the Mad, + White Mountains._ + +[Illustration] + + +The Old Brown Coat. + +ALICE'S STORY. + + + + +The Gift. + + +[Illustration] + +The royal family of the Kingdom of Percan had an old brown coat which +they prized very highly; it was so old that no one could say exactly +when it was made, but the story was that the Phoenix made it for the +first King of Percan, so it must have been very old. Only the ruler of +the kingdom was allowed to put it on, which he did once a year, on New +Year's Day. Anybody else who wore it either would die or become king. +Such an old coat would have to be mended occasionally, for though the +King put it on very carefully on New Year's Day--sixteen men helping him +on with it and taking two hours to do it in--and though he only wore it +an hour and then put it away safely in a cedar chest for the rest of the +year,--yet for all this care the coat, being so old and weak, frequently +was torn. Whenever this sad event happened, the sixteen men who were +called "Coat-Tails to His Majesty," (because they were appendages to the +coat,) carried the coat to the oldest woman in the kingdom, who was +obliged to mend it. If she were so old as to be helpless, the Sixteen +Coat-Tails put her to death and then went to the woman next to her in +age, who was of course the oldest then, until at last they found one who +could mend it. Then they all kept guard over her to see that neither she +nor any one else put it on, and when the coat was mended, they carried +it back to the king's palace and put it away in the cedar chest. Once +safely locked up, the Sixteen Coat-Tails sat on the chest by turns all +the rest of the year. They were very trusty men indeed; it was a great +honour to be one of the Coat-Tails. + +Now, at the time when this story commences, the King of Percan was +Shahtah the Great. He was called the Great, because he weighed so much +and measured so far round the waist; since he had come to the throne, he +had been growing greater and more powerful, until his fame spread +through all the earth. + +It was New Year's Day; and all the people came flocking to the palace to +see the King put on the Old Brown Coat. At noon came a long procession +led by the Sixteen Coat-Tails, headed by Kaddel the chief of the +Sixteen; they carried the coat in a gold box. "See!" cried the people; +"that is the box! the Old Brown Coat is inside! hurrah!" and as the +procession passed, all the people shouted and tossed up their hats. And +Kaddel was so splendidly dressed that he thought some of the crowd must +be shouting for him. Then the palace was crowded as Kaddel at the head +of the Coat-Tails brought the box before the King, who sat on the +throne, and opened it in the presence of the royal family and the +people, who however could not get near enough to see very much. The King +who, as I said, was very fat, came slowly down the steps of the throne +and laid aside his regal apparel, when the Sixteen Coat-Tails lifted the +Old Brown Coat very carefully and began putting it upon the King; and +very hard work it was. "I must reduce my size," said Shahtah; "next year +I will drink a great deal of vinegar. I really am afraid I shall not be +able to get the coat on without tearing it." Indeed the coat was already +beginning to burst in several places, and Shahtah became quite heated +with trying to make himself as small as possible. "If your Majesty would +let out your breath," said Kaddel, "I think we might get it on." So +Shahtah let out his breath as well as he could, at the same time +shrinking in his skin, and the Sixteen Coat-Tails seized the opportunity +to give a final push to the coat, so that it was at last fairly on, two +hours and five minutes after it was taken out of the box. But Shahtah, +the King, could not possibly do without breathing longer; he grew very +red, and by the time the coat was fairly on was so exhausted, and so +relieved at being through with the exertion, that he drew a long breath +and sighed heavily, which expanded his portly frame until the coat burst +in twenty rents. "How vexatious!" thought Kaddel, "and my grandmother +who is blind, is the oldest woman! If now, the King were only as thin as +I am," (for he was very thin,) "there would be no difficulty; or if I +were only the king," he half added to himself. + +When the coat was taken off, after the people had looked at it for an +hour, and Shahtah the Great had been put to bed, for he was very much +exhausted,--the Sixteen Coat-Tails immediately set out with the coat to +get it mended. "Who is the oldest woman in the kingdom?" asked one of +them. Kaddel kept the list and had to answer--"It is my grandmother." So +they went to her house. But Kaddel's grandmother was ninety years old +and blind, and besides had lost the use of her hands by paralysis. Of +course she could not mend the coat, so there was nothing to be done but +to put her to death and find the next in age. The law was very strict +and could not be avoided. When they went away with the Old Brown Coat, +Kaddel felt very bitter toward the fat old Shahtah. "If he had only been +lean like me!" he groaned; "or if I were only king," he added to +himself. This he said to himself so often that by the time they had +found an old woman who could mend the coat, Kaddel had made up his mind +to be king. "To be king," said he, "one must needs wear the Old Brown +Coat; to be sure one may die; but the chance is even; and at any rate I +am determined to kill Shahtah for making my grandmother die. The coat +would just fit me." + +The first night after the coat was finished and safely locked up in the +cedar chest in the palace of the King of Percan, it was Kaddel's turn to +sit upon the chest to guard it. In the middle of the night when all was +quiet, he opened the chest and very carefully put on the Old Brown Coat; +it was a perfect fit. "Now that I have put it on," said he, "I must +either be king or die." Then he wont silently up to Shahtah's chamber +where the guard let him in without suspicion, for Kaddel was a very +trusty man and chief of the Sixteen Coat-Tails; there he killed the fat +Shahtah and came out again. "Do not disturb the King," he said to the +guard, "he will sleep late." Returning to the chest he took out the coat +again and, doing it up in a bundle, went off with it on horseback long +before morning, for he said to himself, "I will escape with the coat, +then when the family of the King find he has been killed and the Old +Brown Coat taken by me, they will be very angry and try to catch me and +get the coat again, for no one can rule who does not wear the coat. But +the people like me, and after a while I will come back and rule over +them." So he rode night and day for a long while, and though the King's +family sent messengers after him in every direction, they could not find +him. + +But Kaddel had forgotten that he who wears the coat may after all not be +king but die. He was in the forest on the banks of a beautiful blue +river. He was hiding in a cave very far away from any living person, but +not far away from the wild beasts. One day he had taken the Old Brown +Coat out of the bundle and laid it upon the limb of a tree, that he +might look at it and fancy himself a king wearing it; but a tiger stole +smoothly behind him and, before he was aware, the beast had killed +Kaddel. The Coat lay still upon the bough and was protected by the +leaves. But a great wind came and broke off the bough, sending it into +the river that flowed below; the coat clung to the limb and floated with +it for many days down the river. + +Now the river ran for hundreds of miles through the forest without +passing any house, but then it came to a woodman's hut where dwelt, +entirely alone, the woodman and his little daughter Isal. One evening +after the sun was down, Isal was playing on the river bank when she saw +a limb of a tree floating down the river toward her; as it came near, +the current of the stream brought it by the bank, and Isal, reaching out +into the water, took hold of a twig and drew to her the very bough which +had floated for hundred of miles down the river, with the Old Brown Coat +snugly hid among the twigs and leaves. "Here is a coat!" said Isal. "I +wonder where it could have come from!" She took it off the bough, which +drifted away as she let it go, and held up the coat to look at it. "And +what a strange looking coat it is!" she said. "It must be very old; it +is very carefully mended too. Some poor person must have owned it; but +it doesn't belong to anyone I know. I'll see if it fits me." Now Isal +had never heard anything about the Old Brown Coat of the Kingdom of +Percan, and of course knew nothing about the story that any one who wore +it must rule or die. "It certainly fits me very well," said she, "but I +don't think it is very warm; it is soft though, and I will sleep on it +to night." She carried it into the house and showed it to her father, +who turned it round and round but knew no more about it than she. When +night came she laid the coat upon her hard bed so as to make it a little +softer, for they were very poor, and soon went to sleep upon it. + +Do you recollect that I told you at the beginning of this story that the +Phoenix made the Old Brown Coat? Yes, the Phoenix made it, but not +the one that was living then; for the Phoenix, you know, lives for +five hundred years; there is only one Phoenix at a time, and when the +old bird has lived his five hundred years, he builds a bonfire of sweet +spices and lies down on it; when he is burned to ashes, out of the +cinders rises up a new Phoenix with crimson and golden feathers who +also lives five hundred years, and so on. It looks something like an +eagle, though to be sure it is a great deal more magnificent than +the eagle, and is a very wise bird. I do not know how old the +present Phoenix is; persons differ about his age. Now it was a +Phoenix--surely the great-great-great-grandfather of the one who was +living in the reign of Shahtah, King of Percan, that made the Old Brown +Coat; and the descendants of that bird, called generally Phoenix the +Tailor, took a great interest in the coat and in all who wore it. The +Phoenix who was living at the time of this story, was very much +concerned about the stealing of the coat. He was a very old bird; he was +four hundred and ninety-five years old when Shahtah was killed, and of +course knew a great deal. + +"Such a thing has not happened in my memory," said he, gravely, "but the +times are growing very degenerate. When I was young there was a great +deal more respect shown to the Old Brown Coat. That coat was made by the +Tailor, my great-great-great grandfather. I can remember when the whole +kingdom would have held their breath if there had happened a rent in the +coat. But the times are sadly degenerate. I am sure I don't know what +the world will come to after I die." + +This he said to the Tufters. The Phoenix of course can have no +children, so he generally adopts four birds of some other family and +brings them up to wait on him. The four adopted children of the +Phoenix were Tufters, that is a kind of goose, but differing from the +goose in having a very fine scarlet tuft on the head which sets off the +white body very finely; besides the Tufter is very wise. You sometimes +hear persons say--as silly as a goose, but never as silly as a Tufter. +Still the Tufters are geese after all, and are very fond of cackling. +So, when the Phoenix had done speaking, the Tufters looked at one +another and burst into a fit of cackling. The Phoenix was very much +displeased at this. "How often have I told you," said he, "not to cackle +in that way. It is very disrespectful in you. Besides this is no +cackling matter." So the Tufters tried to look solemn, which made them +look very much like geese. "I don't know exactly what it is best to do +about this," proceeded the Phoenix, stroking his beak with one of his +claws as he always did when he reflected; "but at any rate we must +watch the coat." So the Tufters were sent off to keep watch over the +coat, all except the youngest, who remained behind to take care of the +aged bird. Her name was Rosedrop, because the tuft on her head was +shaped and coloured like a rose. + +After a while the Tufters came back very much excited. They forgot to +make their obeisance to the Phoenix, when they came in, which +irritated the venerable bird very much. "Where are your manners?" said +he, sharply, as they were about to speak all at once. The Tufters +recollected themselves, and standing in a row before the Phoenix, each +upon one leg, they stretched out their long necks and bowed all together +till their heads touched the ground, when they rubbed their brilliant +tufts in the dirt. They always do this to show their humility. This +pleased the Phoenix, and he told them they might speak now if they had +anything to tell him, but one at a time. Whereupon, they all forgot +their manners again, and cackled together in a most confusing manner, +telling him that Kaddel had been killed, the coat had been carried down +the river and captured by a woodman's little daughter, named Isal. + +"I saw it myself," said the oldest, "and I saw Isal take it from the +bough, on which it floated, and put it on." + +"Yes," said the second, "and she has gone to sleep on it. She is very +beautiful." + +"But she will have to die or else rule, which is impossible, though; the +law is very strict," said the next. + +"Oh!" said the youngest, who had stayed with her father, "and must she +die, because she put the coat on?" And Rosedrop looked very sad. She +would have cried, but Tufters never cry. The Phoenix was evidently +very much perplexed. He shook his head very hard while all the Tufters +stood huddled around him. + +"We must put this right," said he at last; but he did not say how; no +doubt he knew, though, he looked so wise. + +"Suppose we carry the coat back to the Prince; he will never know that +Isal wore it," suggested the third of the Tufters who had spoken +before. + +"Little Tufters should be seen, not heard," said the Phoenix; "I did +not ask your advice." At this the Tufter who had spoken so rashly looked +very foolish, and the rest cackled over it. "You're a goose!" said they, +all except Rosedrop, who came up and stroked her brother's tuft with her +bill. "Isal must be brought here," at last said the Phoenix. "You must +all four go and bring her here with the coat." + +Away flew the Tufters--they fly very swiftly--and long before morning, +though it was hundreds of miles away, they had come to the woodman's +hut. The father and Isal were both asleep--Isal upon the Old Brown Coat. +"What a sweet face!" whispered Rosedrop. Then each took a corner of the +coat by the beak and lifting it up with Isal upon it, they flew out of +the house and back again to the Phoenix. Isal was still asleep, but +the morning light would soon wake her. + +"Shall I give her a worm?" said the Tufter who had spoken so rashly +before. + +"Nonsense!" said the Phoenix sharply. "Little girls don't eat worms! +Be more discreet. But you may go and find some berries." So he went off +for them and Rosedrop with him. Isal was awake when they came back, and +very much astonished at everything about her. + +"How came I here?" said she, "with these strange looking birds about me. +That is certainly a very odd looking bird, and very tame;" and she went +up to the Phoenix to stroke it. + +"Make your manners! make your manners! Stand on one foot! Put your head +out! so!" screamed all the Tufters at once, as they stretched out their +necks toward her and the Phoenix. But Isal could not tell that they +said anything. "How these geese do cackle," said she, as she stroked the +Phoenix, who did not dislike it, though he thought her rather forward, +and bade Rosedrop bring her some berries. Rosedrop brought them to Isal, +who thought she was the prettiest of all, and not at all like a goose. + +"What shall we do with her now we have her here?" asked the rash Tufter; +but he was sorry he asked, for the Phoenix gave him a terrible peck. + +"I know my own affairs," said the old bird angrily, but really he knew +very little about this affair and was sadly perplexed and quite at his +wit's end. He said nothing of that though, but looked more than usually +wise, and finally, when all were on tip-toe, or rather tip-claw, to hear +what the wise bird would say, he spoke, and told the oldest to go to the +palace of the King and bring back word of what was going on there. + +"Ah!" said the second in age, "the Phoenix is a wonderful bird! what +deep plans he has!" + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile Isal stayed by the Phoenix and the three Tufters, who kept +very good watch over her. She looked about in vain for her father's +house or for the great blue river; she could not understand how she came +to be where she was and in such strange company; for, though the birds +all told her everything about it a great many times over, she could not +understand them, for she had never learned the Phoenician and the +Tufter tongues. After roaming about all day and eating berries, shouting +for her father and sometimes crying, she lay down upon the Old Brown +Coat. The coat she knew; somehow or other she was pretty sure that it +must have had something to do with her strange journey. She had heard +her father tell about the wonderful cushion that Houssain rode upon; +perhaps she had flown here upon the coat; she would lie down upon it and +wish herself home again, and "who knows," said she, "but I shall wake up +on my cot in the morning?" + +After Isal had dropped asleep the Tufter who had been sent to the palace +returned quite out of breath; he had such good news to tell; he hurried +through his manners before the punctilious Phoenix, and then proceeded +to relate how he had called on his friend, the Peacock, who lived in the +palace garden. "I had a very good time, indeed," said he; "we had green +peas to eat, and the Peacock showed me all his new feathers. I asked him +about the theft of the coat and what the prince was going to do; but he +did not know much about it; he said that for his part he thought people +made a very ridiculous fuss about a seedy old coat. But just then we +were joined by the Rabbit. The Peacock rather despised him; he whispered +to me--so loud that I am sure the Rabbit must have heard--'Did you ever +see such an absurd tail?' But I am sure the Rabbit is very beautiful and +much more intelligent. The Peacock has such a disagreeable voice, and he +is always trying to sing. I asked the Rabbit if he knew anything about +the coat. He said he did; his friend the Mouse had told him the latest +news that very morning; and the Mouse was very good authority, for he +lived generally in the library and had gone through a great many books; +he was very learned; he had overheard the Prince talking with the +prime-minister, and he gathered that the Prince had sent out a +proclamation, promising to give a very large sum to any one who would +bring back the Old Brown Coat, and if it chanced to be a maiden he would +marry her and make her queen; though of course that was quite absurd, +the Rabbit said; but then the Rabbit jumps at conclusions. The Peacock +tried to turn the conversation once or twice; he thought it was +insufferably dull and finally went off in a dudgeon, and I saw him as I +flew away, looking very grand, strutting along the garden walk. I bade +the Rabbit good-by and left my regards for the Mouse though I am afraid +it was rather improper--the Mouse is so learned. And here I am." + +When the Tufter finished they all talked very eagerly about what was +best to be done, while the Phoenix sat apart and deliberated by +himself; of course the four children could know nothing about it. + +Finally he called them to him and said--"Children, you may get +yourselves ready to go with me to the Palace." This was, indeed, great +news; the Phoenix had not, visited the palace for a hundred years. +This was indeed a great event! + +"May I go too?" asked Rosedrop. + +"Yes," said the Phoenix, "you shall all go. You are to carry Isal with +you on the coat. We shall go slowly. I am too old to travel very fast." + +For a week they travelled. Every morning when Isal awoke she was +surprised to find herself in a new place; always with the Old Brown Coat +and the strange birds; they only travelled in the night time when Isal +was asleep; in the day time they rested on account of the Phoenix. At +last one morning, an hour before sunrise, they came to the Palace and +alighted in the garden just below the Prince's window. They laid Isal +on the Old Brown Coat upon the grass, and then the Phoenix bade the +Tufters fly away a few miles into the woods and wait his coming. +Rosedrop, however, he bade stay a while, when she tapped with her beak +upon the window of the Prince's chamber, and then flew away to join her +brothers. + +The Prince heard the tapping upon the window, and said--"It is the +messenger-bird," and rose to see if it had brought him a billet. He +opened the window but no bird flew in, and he leaned upon the sill and +looked up to the beautiful sky; the morning-star was just disappearing; +he watched it till it was gone, and then cast his eyes on the green +grass below. What should he see there but a lovely girl lying asleep on +the grass, and a very magnificent bird standing beside her. He hastened +down and stooped over the beautiful maiden. "How lovely!" said he; "she +is more beautiful than the daughters of Calla. She is the morning-star +which I just saw disappear in the heavens." He bent his face to hers and +kissed her. With the kiss Isal awoke, and when she saw leaning over her +so grand a looking person, she was more wonderstruck than ever before. +"Surely he kissed me!" she murmured. Here the Phoenix broke in with a +remark. + +"O Prince," said he, "I am the Phoenix. For nearly five hundred years +I have lived and guarded the Old Brown Coat. It was stolen, and I have +brought it back to you with the maiden you are to marry. But you have +taken no sort of notice of the coat. My great-great-great grandfather +made that coat. It is more valuable than a hundred lovely girls." + +When the Prince heard the Phoenix speak, he turned and saw the grand +bird which he had overlooked. But he could not understand a word he +said, though the Phoenix spoke very loud and as he thought very +distinctly. "This is a very strange bird, indeed!" said the Prince. "Did +the bird fly with you from the heavens, Morning-Star!" + +Isal said, half to herself, "It is very strange. I cannot understand it +at all. How did I come here! It is like a dream. And where are the other +birds with tufts on their heads?" She got up as she said this; the +Prince lifting her by the hand. Then the Prince saw the Old Brown Coat. +"Ah! you have brought me my precious coat again!" said he, and he took +it up joyfully. At this the Phoenix grew very much excited. + +"He will tear it!" said he. "Where are the Sixteen Coat-Tails? This is +alarming!" + +But the Prince, without heeding him, took Isal by the hand and led her +into the Palace, carrying, too, the Old Brown Coat. Then he made Isal +tell him all that she knew about it. The royal household gathered about, +mad with joy that the Old Brown Coat had been found again. The Sixteen +Coat-Tails came in very solemnly and took possession of it. Each of the +Sixteen in turn looked over it carefully, but could not find the least +rent or tear. "How wonderful!" said they, "but we are very glad to get +it again; we are so distinguished now." The bells of the city were rung +and crowds of people came to rejoice over the recovery of the coat. +Meanwhile the Phoenix walked about the garden. + +"This is as it should be," said he, "as far as the Old Brown Coat is +concerned, but I don't receive the honour due to me. I am the Phoenix; +the only one of course in the world. I am five hundred years old, +nearly. When I was here a hundred years ago I was made very much of. But +the world is growing very degenerate." The gardener of the palace came +by just then. + +"What have we here?" said he. "Can it be that this is the Phoenix? I +have heard my father describe the one that was here a century ago, and +it certainly was very much like this fine bird." He went into the Palace +and desired an audience with the Prince. "Does your majesty know," said +he, "that the Phoenix is here?" + +At this all the people set up a shout. "The Phoenix! It is the royal +bird of Percan! Long live the Phoenix!" + +The Prince and people passed into the garden and stood looking at the +Phoenix. "Now I am respected;" said he. "This is as it should be." It +was a great day for the Phoenix and a great day for the people. The +Poet recited a long ode in his honour. The musicians played a great deal +of music; the wise men, moreover, all got together and held a discussion +for several hours about his age; but the people did not care much for +this. The Phoenix was given a place above the throne. And not only +that, but upon that very day the Prince of Percan, son of Shahtah the +Great, the former king, was throned king and took for his queen the +beautiful Isal, daughter of a woodman. He wore the Old Brown Coat, and +it fitted him very well; it took the Sixteen Coat-Tails only an hour, +with all their care, to get it upon him. When it was nightfall, the +Phoenix came majestically down from his high perch, and hovering for a +few minutes about the King and Queen, gave them a great deal of good +advice which they could not understand, and then sailed grandly away, +joined the Tufters in the woods, and flew back to his eyrie, far off. In +the Palace lived the Prince and his beautiful Queen, the good Isal. + + + + +The Sacrifice. + + +[Illustration] + +The Prince and Isal had now been married nearly five years, so that Isal +was then eighteen years old and even more beautiful than when the prince +found her in the garden. The royal family was at first displeased that +the Prince should marry a peasant maiden, but Isal was so good that one +could not help loving her, and soon every one said that there never had +been such a Queen in Percan. As for the Prince, he loved her more than +the whole of his kingdom; he always called her his Morning-Star. And +Isal loved the Prince and was very happy in the palace where she had +everything she could desire; but often in the five years did she +remember the woodman's hut on the bank of the great blue river where she +had spent her childhood; often she thought of her father living there +alone, reft of his little daughter, the one comfort of his life. Then +would the Prince come with his kind love, and quite drive away such sad +thoughts. As the years went by she thought less of her former life; +indeed it was so different from the present that she persuaded herself +that she had died in her cot the night after finding the Old Brown Coat, +that now she was in the Paradise she had heard her father tell about, +and that the birds--the Phoenix and the Tufters--were the winged +spirits that brought her there. + +The Phoenix was now very nearly five hundred years old; in a few weeks +he would have to build his nest and die. The Tufters too were five years +older; but five years makes a great deal more difference with them than +it does with the Phoenix. It makes them much wiser; even the one that +had been rash was quite prudent now. They waited still on the old bird +and brought him all the information they could find about the affairs of +the world. + +"I wonder how the Old Brown Coat does," said the Tufter who had once +been rash, as they all stood round the Phoenix one night. "That was a +very grand event we brought about--the marriage of the Prince with Isal. +If it had not been for us, Isal might still have been only a woodman's +daughter and not a Queen at all!" Here the Phoenix spoke, but with a +very muffled voice; his age prevented him from talking very loud or much +at a time; he was apt to repeat himself, too, sometimes, and to ramble +in his remarks. But the Tufters always listened very respectfully to +whatever he had to say: he was so old and so wise; everything he said +would bear reflection. + +"You are a goose. My great-great-great grandfather made the Old Brown +Coat. He was called Phoenix the Tailor. The world is growing very +degenerate. I am five hundred years old very nearly. I don't know what +will become of it when I die. The Prince is very well, but he did not +know me when he saw me in the garden. I was respected, though. The +gardener knew me, and the people shouted. My great--" + +The Phoenix was going on with some of his reminiscences, or perhaps +beginning again, when just at this point there was a rustling in the +bushes, and in burst the oldest of the Tufters who had been away hunting +for news. All the rest bustled about him as he smoothed his feathers to +make his manners to the Phoenix. + +"I have some very important news!" began he, with great dignity. "Isal's +father, the woodman is dying." + +"Is he, indeed!" exclaimed the rest in chorus, except the Phoenix, who +stood with one eye shut, painfully distracted between the desire to +administer a rebuke and to hear further. + +"That may be," said he, finally, "but you should not have interrupted me +while I was speaking. Besides you have not told us yet the particulars." + +"I was flying up the river," proceeded the eldest Tufter, respectfully, +"when I happened to recollect little Isal, and how we brought her away +from her house. I was passing the very spot, so I just flew in for a +moment, and there I saw the woodman, her father, lying upon his bed very +sick. There was no one with him." + +"How sad!" said Rosedrop, mournfully. + +"The cot from which we took Isal," added the Tufter, "was there still, +just as we left it, in precisely the same spot." + +"How remarkable!" said the rash Tufter, who had become prudent. + +While all this cackling was going on, the Phoenix maintained a stiff +silence. At last he stroked his beak with a claw. "Hush!" said the +second Tufter, "we shall hear something now." And surely the Phoenix +did speak. + +"Children, Isal must know of this. We took her away on the Old Brown +Coat. My great-great-great grandfather made the coat. He was called +Phoenix the Tailor." It was very hard for the Phoenix to avoid +speaking of this whenever the Old Brown Coat was mentioned, and he +continued for some time to wander upon the subject, till they all +thought he was through, and the Tufter, who had once been rash asked: +"And who shall tell Isal?" The Phoenix was not really through, though. +He was just in the midst of the sentence, "The world is growing very +degenerate--" only the last word stuck in his throat--and he was +exceedingly vexed that he should be interrupted by an upstart Tufter. +"You--" are a goose, he tried to say, but the difficulty in his throat +occurred again, and prevented any word beyond the first, and the Tufter +taking it for a command to carry the news--he was too quick +sometimes,--set off for the palace as fast as his wings could carry him. + +"How provoking!" said the oldest; "he will spoil it all with his +rashness!" The Phoenix now recovered himself, and having finished his +two broken sentences together, "degenerate--are a goose," for he never +left anything undone, told Rosedrop to fly faster and carry the news +before the other. Rosedrop sped swiftly, and overtaking her brother, +went with him in company and soon persuaded him, for he was a +good-natured fellow, to let her undertake the message. So when they +reached the palace garden, while her brother remained without, Rosedrop +flew in at the open window where she had tapped nearly five years ago, +and hovering over Isal as she lay asleep, told her the sad message, and +flying out rejoined her bother. + +"Did she hear you?" asked he. + +"Oh, yes," said Rosedrop. "I told her all about it, and she looked very +sad indeed. How sorry I am for her. I am sure I shall feel dreadfully +when the Phoenix dies." + +Now Isal really did hear all that Rosedrop told her; for as the Tufter +flew through the open window, a suggestion entered the open window of +her mind as she lay asleep, and this is what it showed her:--A lonely +woodman's hut in the forest upon the bank of a great blue river; in the +hut a solitary man, pale and thin, worn out with sickness and sorrow +stretched upon a bed; not a living thing about the house; the axe lying +rusty from disuse by the trunk of a fallen tree; one little bed deserted +in the other corner of the room, toward which the sick man is turned +with longing look, while his lips move but refuse to speak the name his +heart dwells upon. And just as the Tufter flew out, having told her +message, so did the picture vanish from Isal's mind, and in its place +followed others in quick succession, all of them centering about one +person--a maiden, who is now playing by the same hut, now surrounded +mysteriously by strange birds, now waking to find herself kissed by a +noble-looking man, who marries her and makes her Queen of the land. With +this she awoke, and saw the Prince leaning over her. + +"What were you dreaming about, Morning-Star, that made you look so sad +just before I kissed you?" said the Prince. Then Isal told him her +dream. + +"My father is sick unto death," she said sorrowfully, when she had +finished, "and longs to see his daughter." But the Prince comforted her, +and told her that he would send messengers who should travel over the +whole country to find her father and bring her word of him. So the +messengers were sent out in search of the woodman. But the Prince did +not know nor Isal, that he lived so far away and so hidden that it +would not be possible to reach him before he died. + +Meanwhile the Phoenix and the Tufters kept watch over the whole +matter. The eldest Tufter returned one night from a visit to the palace +where he had seen his friend, the Rabbit. "The Peacock," said he, "would +have nothing to do with me since I took to calling on the Rabbit; but I +am not sorry, for he is very tiresome and is for ever talking about his +tail. The Rabbit is much more sensible, though he has some strange +tastes. Do you know, he is very fond of chewing parsley? Is it not +queer? I asked the Rabbit what the news was. He said he would ask the +Mouse and proposed to me to go and call on him. I was afraid to at +first; the Mouse is so learned; but then the Rabbit is on very good +terms with him and promised to introduce me. So I got the Squirrel to +brush me down--he always carries a whisk brush with him and is very +obliging--and went with the Rabbit to call on the Mouse. The Rabbit did +not seem at all disconcerted. He was chewing parsley all the way; but I +was trying to think what it was proper to say upon entering." + +"The Mouse lives in a very small house; he had to come out to the door to +us; it was quite impossible for us to enter. He looked very venerable +indeed, and very learned. His hair was brushed back over his forehead, +and his whiskers were grown very long. I noticed the Rabbit wore his so; +he told me afterwards that it was the fashion among learned men, and +though he did not presume to call himself a learned man, yet he thought +it best to be in the fashion. I hardly knew what to say to the Mouse; I +had been trying all the way to think of some book I might mention, but +the Rabbit opened the way very easily. He told the Mouse where I was +from and mentioned my connection with you, sir," (turning to the +Phoenix; the Phoenix bowed--"Yes, I am well known," he said.) "Ah, +indeed," said the Mouse. "The Phoenix? yes. I came across an account +of the Phoenicians in a book the other day; the book was elegantly +bound; the Phoenicians are a very enterprising race." + +"The Phoenicians! indeed!" broke in the angry Phoenix. "There is but +one Phoenix. I am the only Phoenix, I am nearly five hundred years +old. My great-great-great-grandfather made the Old Brown Coat." And he +went on with his reminiscences till he was quite exhausted. After that +the Tufter hardly dared mention the Mouse, and, indeed, began to suspect +that he was not so very learned after all; but he proceeded to state how +he had gathered that the Prince had sent messengers to find the woodman, +Isal's father. + +"It is in vain," said the Phoenix, who had recovered himself, and was +really growing very wise, as the days of his life neared their end. "It +is in vain, children, you must go again to the Palace--all of you. I +would go myself, but I am getting too old, and besides, I must begin to +gather my spices and make my dying nest. This you must tell Isal. Her +father longs to see her once before he dies. Yet if she chooses to go to +him she must die after him, for she has worn the Old Brown Coat. If she +remains with the Prince she shall be happy for many years, and be +beloved by her husband and king. If she decide to go, then do you four +bear her away to her father." + +Away flew the Tufters to the Palace. Again did Rosedrop fly through the +window, and hovering over the bed, unknown to the Prince give her +message to the sleeping Isal. Again, and at the same time, did a +suggestion fly through the open window of the Queen's mind, showing her +in succession two pictures:--In one she saw a maiden sitting by the +bedside of a dying man in a lonely woodman's hut by the banks of a great +blue river; the woodman's eyes are bent on her and all his pain and +sorrow are gone; gently he closes his life in the sleep of death; and +the maiden alone, with only the dead man upon the bed, sickens also, and +lying upon the other cot, slowly, painfully closes her life with no one +to hold her hand. Then Isal saw another picture--a Queen in the Palace +honored by the people, having everything that she could desire, dearly +loved and cherished by the King her husband, and living thus for many +years, and when dying at last, wept over by all and kissed at the very +moment of death by the good Prince. Then Isal woke up just as before by +the kiss of the Prince, who was leaning over her. "You are sad again, my +Morning-Star," said he. "Be comforted; your father will be found." But +Isal did not tell him her dream this time. + +"What is she going to do?" asked the rather forward Tufter of Rosedrop, +as she came forth through the window again. + +"She is perplexed," said Rosedrop. "We will come for her answer +to-morrow night." All that day did Isal think over the two pictures she +had seen, until at last the second one quite faded from view; only the +first remained. "I will go," said she to herself, "even if I must die." +The next night when the Tufters came for the answer, they found the +window closed. Rosedrop tapped upon it with her beak. Isal within heard +it. "It is the summons for me to go," said she. She leaned over the +prince; he was asleep; she longed to give him a last kiss. "I will kiss +him very gently," said she, but first she opened the window. There were +the strange birds again; the beautiful one upon the sill; the rest +hovering close by; she went back and lightly kissed the Prince. "Quick!" +she said to herself as he stirred. "He is awaking!" She hastened to the +window; she stood upon the sill; the birds floated in front of her, and +letting herself sink upon their soft downy backs, and throwing her arms +round Rosedrop's neck, off they flew, swifter than the rushing wind. + +The Prince awakened by the kiss and the rustling opened his eyes only to +see his Queen rising like a white cloud to the sky. + +"Ah! she is gone! my Morning-Star has returned again to the sky!" he +wailed, and stretching his supplicating hands he cried, "Come back to +me! My Love! My Morning-Star!" And Isal heard him as she was swiftly +borne, and her hot tears fell on Rosedrop's neck. + +Just when the morning-star disappeared from the sky before the dawn, the +Tufters laid Isal upon her cot in the woodman's hut, and fluttering +around her for a moment, they flew away to the Phoenix, leaving +Rosedrop only to keep watch. In the hut upon his pallet lay stretched +the lonely woodman, who was dying. Day and night did Isal sit by his +side and hold his hand while he gazed in her face, too weak to speak. +Slowly the pain and the sorrow left his face, and instead came a smile +of holy joy which never left him. For seven days and seven nights did +Isal sit beside him. Then he died, and she, just able to reach her old +cot, lay down upon it, weak and suffering. For seven days and seven +nights did she lie there, racked with pain. This was a sad exchange for +her happy life in the Palace; but she never repented; she could not when +she saw the dead face with its heavenly smile still upon it. + +"Isal is fast dying," said little Rosedrop sadly, as she flew back from +the hut to the Phoenix and her brothers. "Oh! she suffers dreadfully." + +"That must be so," said the Phoenix wisely. "It could not be +otherwise." The Phoenix now was so old that in an hour he would die. +He had gathered his spice and built his nest; already had he taken his +seat upon it, and was awaiting the last moment of the five hundredth +year, while the Tufters stood around sorrowfully, each upon one leg, +manifesting their respect to the old bird by making their manners +constantly; it pleased the Phoenix so much. And the grand bird as he +neared his end grew more and more wise and prophetic. + +"Rosedrop!" said he to his favorite Tufter. "Go quickly to Isal's cot. +She will die; but when she dies, watch for her spirit and bear it hither +ere I die." Swiftly sped Rosedrop to the hut by the river. There she +watched by Isal's bedside; saw her go through terrible suffering, but at +last the struggle was over, and Rosedrop saw through her tears, which +she shed for the first and only time, Isal's spirit floating upward. She +clasped it to her bosom and darted to the Phoenix. + +"It is the hour!" said the Bird, before Rosedrop had returned. "My life +is closed. I have lived five hundred years." He plucked a golden feather +from his breast, and lighted the nest of spices on which he reclined. +The smoke rose slowly, enveloping him in it, while the Tufters, overcome +with grief, forgot their manners, and stood on both legs peering into +the smoke. At that moment Rosedrop, with the spirit of Isal, darted into +the circle. The Phoenix saw her. + +"Lay the spirit in the nest," said he, and Rosedrop heedless of the fire +which burned her beautiful body, laid Isal's spirit in the nest by the +Phoenix. + +"It is enough!" said the Phoenix. "I am perishing, but another +Phoenix shall arise and the spirit of Isal shall live in it. Isal is +the Phoenix that is to be. I die but she shall live." + +As he said it, there was a smouldering in the nest; a heap of embers +enveloped in smoke lay before the Tufters; in a moment the smoke parted +and out of the embers soared with crimson and golden plumage the new +Phoenix! + + * * * * * + +But the new Phoenix remembered still the life that belonged to him +when he was a maiden. The Phoenix, moreover, is a most wonderful bird. +It can change itself into many shapes. Every New Year's Day did this +Phoenix visit the Palace and present itself at the Festivity of the +Old Brown Coat, and every New Year's night, after the Sixteen Coat Tails +had robed and unrobed the lonely Prince with the greatest care, did the +Phoenix visit the Prince alone, and for one night he returned to the +old shape of the beautiful Isal. And when the Prince died he was changed +into a palm-tree, and the Phoenix dwelt in the branches. + +[Illustration] + + +New Year's Day in the Garden. + + + + +Morning. + + +[Illustration] + +It may not generally be known, yet so it is, that New Year's Day in the +Garden varies each year, but is established by one sure sign--the +blooming of the Lilac. When this takes place it is the custom of the +inhabitants of the Garden to celebrate their New Year's Day. In the year +when this happened which I am about to tell, the Lilac was later than +usual, and there was great impatience felt at its slowness. Some of the +younger ones, in fact, had serious doubts whether it would come to +flower at all, and that they agreed would be a calamity, but the older +ones bade them wait, for the time certainly would come. The old +Buttonwood tree that stood in the corner of the Garden, and who was said +to be the oldest inhabitant, grew very tiresome, for he counted up on +his branches the number of years that he had seen the Lilac blow, and +declared twenty times a day, as if he had not said it at all, that he +had never known the bush to be so tardy. But on the night before the +twentieth of May there was a plenteous shower; the next morning the sun +rose splendidly upon the fresh earth, and the Lilac sent its strong +perfume all over the Garden. It was unanimously agreed that New Year's +Day had come at last, and that there should be an unusual celebration of +it. + +Now listen and you shall hear how the day was celebrated. It was divided +into two parts; the first part was the morning, and was occupied after +the manner of the inhabitants of the Garden in giving and receiving +calls. + +Owing to the slowness of the Lilac, many of the fair ones were not so +elegantly dressed as they had hoped to be and were quite mortified; but +the shower in the night had freshened them and taken away much of their +faded appearance, so that none but the most fastidious of their visitors +could detect any failing. The Garden walks were quite lively with such +of the callers as were obliged to walk, while those that kept their +wings, and so could fly, were moving in the air in every direction. The +Bee, in his shining yellow coat, was rushing about making a great to do +and acting as if no one were of so much importance. He made his first +call upon the Rose, who was dressed in a charming robe of a +blush-colour, and who received a great deal of attention. + +"The compliments of the Lilac to you, my dear Miss," said he, bustling +in. "I am a business character; have fifty calls to make and so have +commenced early, as you see. What a disgraceful thing it was for the +Lilac to be so unpunctual. Really I lost all patience with it. Prompt is +my word. 'Improve each shining hour,' you know, my dear Miss, as the +poet somewhere says, so I bid you good-morning," and the corpulent +fellow in his yellow coat buzzed graciously to the Rose and hurried off +to pay his respects to the next on his list. + +As he went out, in came the Butterfly and the Moth, who made their calls +together. The Moth was clad in grey, and the Butterfly liked that, +because it set off his own brilliant colours so well. + +"_Bon jour, mademoiselle!_" said the Butterfly, who always spoke in a +foreign tongue when there was no need for it, and then he continued in +his own, for he was not very perfect in the foreign tongue after all. +"How charming you look this morning! What shall we do to the Lilac for +denying us so long the sight of your beauty? I say, Moth, we shall have +to attend to that fellow." The Moth, who remained in a corner merely +bowed and smiled; he was not so brilliant as his companion, and besides +was always in a state of anxiety about his coat, which was liable to be +rubbed. + +"Oh, Mr. Butterfly," said the Rose, "the Lilac is not to blame, and the +day is all the more charming for being a little later." + +"It is not the day that is so charming," said the Butterfly with a +smirk. "But we have a few calls yet to make--seventy-five or a hundred, +say. Come, Moth. _Au revoir, Mademoiselle_," and they fluttered off. +"Did you see her blush, Moth, when I said that about the day not being +so charming?" said the Butterfly. "That's what they like. Halloa! there +goes that simpleton of a Humming-Bird. He thinks he's got the gayest +coat in the Garden. What a conceited fellow!" + +He said this loud enough for the Humming-Bird to hear, but that graceful +creature took no notice of it. He also was out, but he made only one +call, and that was to the Honeysuckle, for they were betrothed. Of +course it never would do to say what they whispered to each other. + +The Spring Crocus also kept open house, though she was so old that the +others said it was all affectation. But she dressed herself in a yellow +dress, which, however, did not make her look any younger. She had one +caller. It was the Grasshopper, who was clad in his major's uniform. He +came along the Garden walk that led to the Crocus in a very formal +fashion, taking step with great precision, for he went exactly the same +distance at each spring, and halted the same length of time between the +jumps. The last spring--for he had calculated it exactly--landed him by +the Crocus. The Crocus, who had watched him coming, was highly flattered +though rather flustered. It was the first call she had received that +day, and she had even feared she might not receive any. + +"Your most obedient, madam," said the Grasshopper, lifting his elbow. + +"Yes, a very warm day," said the Crocus, not quite at her ease. + +"The Lilac is later than usual," continued the Grasshopper. + +"Oh, yes, the Lilac, yes," said the Dowager Crocus, "quite so,--the +Lilac, oh, yes! it is certainly very wrong. You are looking uncommonly +well, Major," and she began to recover her composure and to look less +heated. + +"Thank you, madam," said the Grasshopper, raising his elbow again, "and +I must say that I have never seen you looking better, and, if I may be +allowed to say it, younger." + +"Oh, la!" exclaimed the Dowager, quite confusedly and getting into a +heat again. + +"Do you find your company agreeable this morning?" asked the +Grasshopper, to change the subject. He referred to the calls she was +supposed to have received, but the Crocus thought he referred to +himself, for she was still a little off her balance. She was just +thinking how she could say something witty, when the Grasshopper added-- + +"You have had a number of calls, I presume?" + +"Oh, yes! a great many. I am quite tired out," said she, though she +ought not to have said so, for it was not true, and besides, it might be +construed into a piece of rudeness. But the Grasshopper knew she had had +none though he did not say so. He had nothing more to say, however, and +he bade her good morning, and jumped by measurement down the Garden +walk. + +This was the first year that the Pansy had received calls and she was +quite excited. She was very prettily pressed in a purple bodice with +white skirt and yellow slippers. "Some one is coming!" she exclaimed to +her mother, who was not far off. "I can hear a step on the Garden walk." +"Be composed," said her mother, "Is your bodice smooth?" She felt of it +and it was. The Red Ant and the Black Ant had come in company. The Red +Ant is a clerk and the Black Ant is his uncle and an undertaker. They +both entered at once and were graciously received. The Red Ant is so +methodical and so used to system, that he had arranged beforehand with +his uncle precisely what they should say and in what order. So the Black +Ant advanced and said quite soberly: + +"This is a very lovely day," and the Red Ant immediately added-- + +"The Lilac is much later than usual this year." + +"Isn't it!" said the Pansy very eagerly. "I declare I thought it never +would come out. Mother told me over and over again not to be so +impatient but I did get so vexed!" + +"It makes very little difference with us," said the Red Ant whose turn +it now was; "every thing is arranged in the Hill so perfectly that +nothing can put us out. We each of us carry fifty grains of sand a day." + +"Oh, how severe it must be for you!" said the Pansy. "I don't believe I +ever could live so systematically. It is so nice just to enjoy the air +and the sun without thinking much about it. Don't you ever get a +holiday?" + +"It is my turn, you know," whispered the Undertaker to his nephew, and +the Red Ant was so systematic that he did not answer the question, for +he had forgotten to allow for it in his calculation. So the Black Ant +next said-- + +"It makes no difference to me either. In my profession, though we cannot +of course be quite so systematic as my nephew here, yet we make it a +point to be at our post, rain or shine. Nephew, it must be time for us +to be going." + +"Yes," said the Red Ant, "it is exactly time. We allow five minutes for +each call and ten minutes between each place. Good-morning!" and they +marched off and said exactly the same thing at the next place. + +The Pansy thought it was not quite so interesting as she expected, +though it was pretty good fun, but soon she had a call from the +Dragon-Fly, and that was worth while. So the morning went by, and was +fully occupied with giving and receiving calls. Every one professed to +have had a very good time, though the Earthworm to be sure had not +succeeded in making a single call, he moved so slowly. The Bee was +through long before noon, and boasted of it. "Prompt is my word," said +he, "I made fifty calls, at an average of fifteen calls an hour." + +That was the way they celebrated New Year's morning. + + + + +Evening. + + +[Illustration] + +In the evening it was different but no less gay. Great preparations were +going on under the Lilac-Bush. Beetles had been at work all day clearing +the grass and putting things in order. At nightfall the Turtles and the +Frogs sounded the chimes, and a merry noise they made of it. The Catbird +rang only one bell. Something evidently was to occur. A little later +the glow-worms began to collect, and the place was illuminated. The +Lilac-Bush was hung with quantities of them, and others darted about in +the air as if they were on the most important business. The Cherry +Blossoms in the tree nearby were very curious to know what it all could +mean. One of them agreed to go and find out. He sailed down gently and +into a cluster of Lilacs. + +"This is the grand celebration," said they in answer to his question. +"For one night in the year the Little People are coming out for sport +before midnight. The Queen will be here, and we are to drop leaves upon +her." But the Cherry Blossom was unable to carry the news back, for the +winds were not favourable. It was as the Lilacs had said. This was the +Queen Faery's reception night, being the first night of the year, and it +was under the Lilac that she was to receive her subjects and their +gifts. + +At last the procession approached, attended above and at all sides by +myriads of glow-worms. Foremost came a body of Daddy-Long-Legs, who +walked marvellously fast, and cleared the way for the procession. Then +a band of crickets followed all in uniform, and every one kept step to +their music, though that was a difficult matter. Behind the band was the +Queen Faery driving as usual her twelve Lady-Birds, which drew her acorn +carriage; she was attended by a body-guard of Dor-Bugs, all in coats of +mail. Then came troops of Faeries, some mounted, some on foot. They bore +banners spun by the most skillful spiders and silk-worms, each company +having its own device. For there were Faeries from the woods, from the +streams, from the flags in the marshes, from the tops of the firs, from +the sea, from the inside of caves, house-faeries, church-faeries, and +gypsy faeries, that lived wherever they pleased and were always +trespassing. + +The fire-flies made it very light and there was no difficulty in finding +the Bush. There they halted, and when the Queen alighted she found a +delicious cushion for her to step upon; it was the messenger Cherry +Blossom which had dropped upon the ground for that purpose. The Queen's +throne was a dandelion flower and a regal throne it was. The Spider spun +a winding staircase to the top, and stretched a canopy over it that +glittered with diamonds of dew. While she was taking her seat the +cricket band played the Throning of the Queen--one of their finest +pieces, and composed for the occasion by the largest cricket in the +band. + +It was now the part of all, and permitted as well to the inhabitants of +the Garden, to come up in order and be presented to the Queen, and to +offer any gifts they might wish to bring. Two of the insects commonly +called Walking-Sticks were in attendance, and were the ushers to +announce each as they came up. It was proper that the Faeries should +have the first place. + +These came up in companies, according to their place in the procession. +They where duly ushered into the presence of the Queen, and there was a +spokesman for each party, who made a little address and offered a gift. +The Faeries from the woods brought an anemone flower, set in dead forest +leaf, and the spokesman explained that the flower was the anticipation +of summer, and that it was fitting it should have such a back-ground. +The Faeries from the streams were obliged to come sitting in shells +filled with water and drawn by dragon-flies. They made a fine appearance +and brought the scale of a trout; it was more beautiful than mother of +pearl. The Faeries from the flags in the marshes brought a carpet made +of leaves of the white violet; the central figure was a marsh mallow. +The Faeries from the tops of the Firs brought a complete dinner service +made of scales of the cone. The Faeries from the sea came upon the +sea-foam, and the East Wind brought them. It made the place exceedingly +chilly, and the Queen shivered. One could smell the saltness all over +the Garden, and one of the Faeries was so overpowered by it that she +fainted. They left their present, however, which was a necklace of +crystal salt, and were off again. The Queen could not wear the necklace, +however, for it made her head ache. The Faeries from the inside of caves +came riding upon bats, and brought a stalactite made in the form of a +horse of dandelion-down, for there is a favourite story among the +Faeries in which such a horse figures. This was a very pretty piece of +sculpture. The house Faeries brought a beautiful shawl made of the +interwoven golden hair of the youngest child and the silver hair of her +old grandfather. The church Faeries brought a sound from the organ; it +was very solemn, and every one was quiet when it was offered. As for the +gypsy Faeries they said they had nothing to give, and so would sing a +song, which they did to the great delight of all, though the +Walking-Sticks thought it not quite becoming. + +The inhabitants of the Garden had been quite impatient for the Faeries +to be through, for their turn was yet to come. It would be quite +impossible to enumerate them all. The Flowers could not come themselves +but they sent their choicest perfumes, and the Miller was so obliging as +to carry for them a great many charming and delicate tints. The Bee gave +a drop of honey, but he was so loud and coarse in his way and carried so +many weapons about him that all were glad when he went. The Humming-Bird +would not come, the Honeysuckle was his Queen, he said. The Red Ant said +it was all fol-de-rol and there was no such thing as a faery in his +opinion, much less a Queen Faery; and he stayed in the Hill and walked +through all the passages to see that every thing was in order. The +Butterfly, poor thing! was dead, and the Black Ant of course was too +busy burying him to attend to such frivolous matters. The Grasshopper, +however, came the whole length of the Garden, and each skip was +precisely as long as the last. It took just one hundred and sixty-seven +skips to reach the Lilac Bush. His uniform looked finely, and the +Walking-Sticks rejoiced that here at last was one come who had style and +observed etiquette. It was rather formal to be sure. The Walking-Sticks +each bowed eleven times, and the Grasshopper raised his elbow so often +and with so much precision, that you would have said it was very nicely +calculated. He made a set speech which the Queen listened to, and then +he passed out again; but he left no present, perhaps he thought he had +honoured her enough by coming to pay his respects. + +The Faeries agreed that the reception must be all over now and that the +last of the inhabitants had come and gone; so they were ready for sport. +They did not know--how should they? that the Earth worm was on the way; +but he never reached the place in time; he was so blind that he lost the +road frequently. Room was now made for a dance. The Fire-flies improved +their lights and arranged them more artistically, and the Faeries took +their places. The inhabitants of the Garden could only look on. Just as +they were ready to begin, a bustling and confusion was observed among +the group of house Faeries. What could be the stir? They were evidently +very much excited, and the reason was this: One of their number, their +spokesman at the reception, was leaning against a stalk of clover and +looking up at the sky through the Lilac Bush. We think it hard to count +the stars, they are so many in number, but to a Faery who once lived +among them the stars are familiar as household faces. Thus the little +Faery was aware of a new star that at that instant appeared in the sky. +It was a very little star and rested between two larger ones, but it did +not escape his quick eye and he was now all alive with excitement. + +"We must lose no time!" cried he to his companions: "there is a new +star! the child is born! come!" and they all sped to the house. One +only remained for a moment to explain it to the Queen and then followed +the rest. + +The event produced great commotion in the Faery circle and all looked to +the Queen to see what was to be done. The Queen instantly called her +bugler, the tame Musquito, and bade him call the scattered Faeries all +about her. So they came every one about the dandelion throne, and the +herald of the Queen--the Fly in his blue coat, made proclamation that a +child had been born and that it was a rare thing, and an excellent +fortune both to Faeries and to the child, that it would be born upon the +first day of the year. "Wherefore," he concluded, "let all the Faeries +here gathered proceed as before and accompany the Queen to the place +where the child lies, and let the gifts that have been brought to the +Queen be carried by trusty servants." + +So they set out as before in exactly the same order, except that the +House-Faeries and the Sea-Faeries were not there. The Daddy-long-legs +cleared the way to the door of the house, and the band of Crickets +played their sweetest air--'twas the Birth of the Daisy in fact. Arrived +at the door the Daddy-long-legs took their place in lines upon each side +of the step, and the Cricket band sate upon the scraper, for these might +not enter. But the Faeries preceded by their Queen did enter, and their +gifts went with them. They came into the room where little Janet lay. +The House-Faeries were already there with hushed movements and ordering +everything about the room. Around the bed gathered the hosts of +Faeries--even the Faeries of the stream were there, a little drier than +usual, though the House-Faeries made them keep on the outer circle. + +The Queen was in the centre directly over little Janet. She bent nearer +and nearer until she stood upon the forehead. She touched it with her +lips, and that was the seal by which she signified that the newborn +child of New-Year's Day was to be gifted with all that Faeries could +give. The gifts which the Queen had received that night were freely +offered to the little child. They were laid at her feet. None there saw +them for none but the Faeries and the child could know of them. Each +Faery, too, in the fulness of love and joy offered other gifts directly +from their own nature; the Gypsy Faeries were very generous. They +withdrew then and the Queen was left alone. She had her gift yet to +bestow. "All of these," said she, "have richly endowed this child of +New-Years Day." She looked at the gifts and knew that there was one +thing wanting, yet she dreaded to bestow it. "It must be," she murmured, +and kissing once more the brow of the child, dropped a tear upon it. +Then she too left. The gifts were complete but the Queen was sad. + +"She is a child of earth," she said, as she turned away; "it must be +so." + +The festivities of the day were finished and all was quiet in the +Garden. The moon now rose and soon its light touched the Lilac Bush. At +the touch the sweet perfume of the Lilac rose like a cloud of incense +from the Bush. The air was filled with it, but the Bush was now +deserted. "It was a great gift," it said, "that I should be permitted to +have so much enjoyment. I am indeed happy, though twelve long months +must pass before I bloom again, and these blossoms now upon me have lost +their fragrance and shall fall to the ground. Yes, it is sweet to live, +even though one's flowers die and one's fragrance is lost." + +But the fragrance was not lost. It rose higher and higher; the clouds +kept it not back and it ascended even to heaven. + +[Illustration] + + +Horace E. Scudder + + + + * * * * * + + + +JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL: A Biography. With portraits and other +illustrations, an Appendix, and a full Bibliography. 2 vols. + +MEN AND LETTERS. Essays in Characterization and Criticism. + +CHILDHOOD IN LITERATURE AND ART: With some Observations on +Literature for Children. + +NOAH WEBSTER. In American Men of Letters. With Portrait. + +GEORGE WASHINGTON. An Historical Biography. In Riverside School +Library. + +THE DWELLERS IN FIVE SISTERS COURT. A Novel. + +STORIES AND ROMANCES. + +DREAM CHILDREN. Illustrated. + +SEVEN LITTLE PEOPLE AND THEIR FRIENDS. Illustrated. + +STORIES FROM MY ATTIC. For Children. Illustrated. + +BOSTON TOWN. The Story of Boston told to Children. Illustrated. + +THE CHILDREN'S BOOK. A Collection of the Best Literature for +Children. New Holiday Edition. Illustrated. + +THE BOOK OF FABLES. + +THE BOOK OF FOLK STORIES. + +THE BOOK OF FABLES AND FOLK STORIES. School Edition. Illustrated. + +THE BOOK OF LEGENDS. + +THE BODLEY BOOKS. Including Doings of the Bodley Family in Town and +Country, The Bodleys Telling Stories, The Bodleys on Wheels, The +Bodleys Afoot, Mr. Bodley Abroad, The Bodley Grandchildren and +their Journey in Holland, The English Bodleys, and The Viking +Bodleys. Illustrated. Eight vols. + +HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY + +BOSTON AND NEW YORK + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SEVEN LITTLE PEOPLE AND THEIR +FRIENDS*** + + +******* This file should be named 24697.txt or 24697.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/6/9/24697 + + + +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. 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