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diff --git a/27321.txt b/27321.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c0d86e --- /dev/null +++ b/27321.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3381 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Fairy Book, by Sophie May + +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: Fairy Book + +Author: Sophie May + +Release Date: November 24, 2008 [EBook #27321] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAIRY BOOK *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Sam W. and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + + + + + + + + + LITTLE PRUDY SERIES. + + + FAIRY BOOK. + + BY + + SOPHIE MAY. + + + BOSTON: + LEE AND SHEPARD, + (SUCCESSORS TO PHILLIPS, SAMPSON, & CO.) + 1866. + + + + + Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by + LEE & SHEPARD, + In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District + of Massachusetts. + + + + + [Illustration: CRISTOBAL. Page 32.] + + + + + THIS + BOOK OF FAIRY TALES + IS DEDICATED + TO LITTLE BESSIE. + + + + +LITTLE PRUDY SERIES. + +BY SOPHIE MAY. + + + I. + LITTLE PRUDY. + + II. + LITTLE PRUDY'S SISTER SUSY. + + III. + LITTLE PRUDY'S CAPTAIN HORACE. + + IV. + LITTLE PRUDY'S COUSIN GRACIE. + + V. + LITTLE PRUDY'S STORY BOOK. + + VI. + LITTLE PRUDY'S DOTTY DIMPLE. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + PAGE + INTRODUCTION 9 + + CRISTOBAL 19 + + WILD ROBIN 35 + + THE VESPER STAR 53 + + THE WATER-KELPIE 59 + + THE LOST SYLPHID 74 + + THE CASTLE OF GEMS 100 + + THE ELF OF LIGHT 117 + + THE PRINCESS HILDA 137 + + GOLDILOCKS 160 + + + + +FAIRY BOOK. + + + + +INTRODUCTION. + + +While Prudy was in Indiana visiting the Cliffords, and in the midst of +her trials with mosquitoes, she said one day,-- + +"I wouldn't cry, Aunt 'Ria, only my heart's breaking. The very next +person that ever dies, I wish they'd ask God to please stop sending +these awful skeeters. I can't bear 'em any longer, now, certainly." + +There was a look of utter despair on Prudy's disfigured face. Bitter +tears were trickling from the two white puff-balls which had been her +eyes; her forehead and cheeks were of a flaming pink, broken into +little snow-drifts full of stings: she looked as if she had just been +rescued from an angry beehive. Altogether, her appearance was +exceedingly droll; yet Grace would not allow herself to smile at her +afflicted little cousin. "Strange," said she, "what makes our +mosquitoes so impolite to strangers! It's a downright shame, isn't it, +ma, to have little Prudy so imposed upon? If I could only amuse her, +and make her forget it!" + +"Oh, mamma," Grace broke forth again suddenly, "I have an idea, a very +brilliant idea! Please listen, and pay particular attention; for I +shall speak _in a figure_, as Robin says. There's a certain small +individual who is not to understand." + +"I wouldn't risk that style of talking," said Mrs. Clifford, smiling; +"or, if you do, your figures of speech must be _very_ obscure, +remember." + +"Well, ma," continued Grace with a significant glance at Prudy, "what +I was going to say is this: We wish to treat certain young relatives +of ours very kindly; don't we, now?--certain afflicted and abused +young relatives, you know. + +"Now, I've thought of an entertainment. Ahem! Yesterday I entered a +certain Englishman's house,"--here Grace pointed through the window +towards Mr. Sherwood's cottage, lest her mother should, by chance, +lose her meaning,--"I entered a certain Englishman's house just as the +family were sitting down to the table,--_festal board_, I mean. + +"They were talking about mistle-toe boughs, and all sorts of old-country +customs; and then they said what a funny time they had one Christmas, +with the youngest, about the _mizzle_, as he called it: do you remember, +ma? do you understand?" + +"You mean little Harvey? Oh, yes." + +"Pray do be careful, ma! Then Mr. Sherwood said to his--I mean, the _hat_ +said to the _bonnet_, that there were some wonderful--ahem--legends, +about genii and sprites and--and so forth; not printed, but _written_, +which the boy liked to hear when he was 'overgetting' the measles. A +certain lady, not three inches from your chair, ma, was the one who wrote +them; and now"-- + +Prudy had turned about, and the only remnants of her face which looked +at all natural--that is, the irises and pupils of her swollen +eyes--were shining with curiosity. + +"There, now, what is it, Gracie? what is it you don't want me to +hear?" + +Grace laughed. "Oh, nothing much, dear: never mind." + +"You oughtn't to say 'Never mind,'" pursued Prudy: "my mother tells me +_always_ to mind." + +"I only mean it isn't any matter, Prudy." + +"Oh! do you? Then don't you care for my skeeter-bites? You always say, +'Never mind!' I didn't know it wasn't _any matter_." + +"Now, ma," Grace went on, "I want to ask you where are those +I-don't-know-what-to-call-'ems? And may I copy them, Cassy and I, into +a book, for a certain afflicted relative?" + +"Yes, yes, on gold-edged paper!" cried Prudy, springing up from the +sofa; "oh, do, do; I'll love you dearly if you will! Fairy stories are +just as nice! What little Harvey Sherwood likes, _I_ like, and I've +had the measles; _but_ I shouldn't think his father and mother'd wear +their hat and bonnet to the dinner-table!" + +"Deary me!" laughed Grace; "how happened that little thing to mistrust +what I meant?" + +"It would be strange if a child of her age, of ordinary abilities, +should _not_ understand," remarked Mrs. Clifford, somewhat amused. +"Next time you wish to ask me any thing confidentially, I advise you +to choose a better opportunity." + +"When may she, Aunt 'Ria?" cried Prudy, entirely forgetting her +troubles; "when may she write it, Aunt 'Ria, she and Cassy?" + +"A pretty piece of folly it would be, wouldn't it, dear, when you +can't read a word of writing?" + +"But Susy can a little, auntie; and mother can a great deal: and I'll +never tease 'em, only nights when I go to bed, and days when I don't +feel well. Please, Aunt 'Ria." + +"Yes, ma, I know you can't refuse," said Grace. + +Mrs. Clifford hesitated. "The stories are yellow with age, Grace; +they were written in my girlhood: and they are rather torn and +disarranged, if I remember. Besides, my child, my flowing hand is +difficult to read." + +"Oh, mamma, I think you write beautifully! splendidly!" + +"Another objection," continued Mrs. Clifford: "they are rather too old +for Prudy, I should judge." + +"But I keep a-growing, Aunt 'Ria! Don't you s'pose I know what fairy +stories mean? They don't mean any thing! You didn't feel afraid I'd +believe 'em, did you? I wouldn't believe 'em, I _promise_ I wouldn't; +just as true's I'm walking on this floor!" + +"Indeed, I hope you would not, little Prudy; for I made them up as I +went along. There are no fairies but those we have in our hearts. Our +best thoughts are good fairies; and our worst thoughts are evil +fairies." + +"Oh, yes, auntie, I know! When we go bathing in the ocean, Susy says, +'Let's be all clean, so the spirit of the water can enter our hearts.' +And it does; but it goes in by our noses." + +Mrs. Clifford had tacitly given her consent to Grace's copying the +stories. This task was performed accordingly, much to the disgust of +Horace, who declared that of the whole number only the tale of "Wild +Robin" was worth reading. + +"And 'Wild Robin,'" said Grace, instructively, "is the only one that +has a moral for you, Horace. When our soldiers are starving so, it is +really dreadful to see how you dislike corned beef and despise +vegetables! Such a dainty boy as you needs to be stolen a while by the +fairies." + +"Well, Gracie, I reckon you'd run double-quick to pull me off the +milk-white steed. You couldn't get along without me two days. Look +here! what story has a moral for you, miss? It's the 'Water-kelpie.' +You are like the man that married Moneta: you're always wanting +money." + +"But it's for the soldiers, Horace," said Grace, with a smile of +forbearance toward her brother. "I'm willing to give all my +pocket-money; and I mean the other girls shall. If we're stingy to our +country these days, we ought to be shot! 'Princess Hilda's' the best +story in the book. I wish Isa Harrington could read it! She wouldn't +make any more mischief between Cassy and me!" + +"I like 'The Lost Sylphid' the best," said Prudy; "but _was_ she a +great butterfly, do you s'pose? The stories are all just as nice; just +like book stories. I shouldn't think anybody made 'em up. Aunt 'Ria +can write as good as the big girls to the grammar-school. I promised +not to believe a single word; and I sha'n't. I'm glad she called it +_my_ Fairy Book." + + + + +CRISTOBAL. + +A CHRISTMAS LEGEND. + + +Long ago, in fair Burgundy, lived a lad named Cristobal. His large +dark eyes lay under the fringe of his lids, full of shadows; eyes as +lustrous as purple amethysts, and, alas! as sightless. + +He had not always been blind, as perhaps a wild and passionate lad, +named Jasper, might have told you. On a certain Christmas Eve, a merry +boy was little Cristobal, as he pattered along to church, trying with +his wooden shoes to keep time to the dancing bells. In his hand he +carried a Christmas candle of various colors. Never, he thought, was +a rainbow so exquisitely tinted as that candle. Carefully he watched +it when it winked its sleepy eye, eagerly begging his mamma to snuff +it awake again. How gayly the streets twinkled with midnight lanterns! +And how mortifying to the stars to be outdone by such a grand +illumination! + +A new painting had just been hung in the church,--the Holy Child, +called by the people "Little Jesus," with an aureola about his head. +Cristobal looked at this picture with reverent delight; and, to his +surprise, the Holy Child returned his gaze: wherever he went, the +sweet, sorrowful eyes followed him. There was a wondrous charm in that +pleading glance. Why was it so wistful? What had those deep eyes to +say? + +The air was cloudy with the breath of frankincense and myrrh. Deep +voices and the heavy organ sounded chants and anthems. There were +prayers to the coming Messiah, and the sprinkling of holy water; and, +at last, the midnight mass was ended. + +Then, in tumult and great haste, the people went home for +merry-makings. Cristobal, eager to see what the Yule-log might have in +store for him, rushed out of the church with careless speed, stumbling +over a boy who stood in his way,--the haughty, insolent Jasper. +Jasper's beautiful Christmas-candle was cracked in twenty pieces by +his fall. + +"I'll teach you better manners, young peasant!" cried he, rushing upon +Cristobal in a frenzy, and dealing fierce blows without mercy or +reason. + +It was then that Cristobal's eyes went out like falling stars. Their +lustre and beauty remained; but they were empty caskets, their vision +gone. + +Then followed terrible anguish; and all Cristobal's mother could do +was to hold her boy in her arms, and soothe him by singing. At last +the fever was spent; but the pain still throbbed on, and sometimes +seemed to burn into Cristobal's brain. He cried out again and again, +"What right had that fierce Jasper to spring upon me so? I meant him +no harm; and he knew it. Oh, I would like to see him chained in a den! +He is like the wicked people who are turned into wolves at +Christmas-tide. I would cry for joy if I could hear him groan with +such pain as mine!" + +Poor Cristobal never hoped to see again. He carried in his mind +pictures of cities and hamlets, of trees, flowers, and old familiar +faces; but oftenest came Jasper's face, just as it had last glared on +him with blood-thirsty eyes. It was a terrible countenance. Only one +charm could dispel the horror,--the remembrance of the beautiful Child +in the church. That picture blotted out every thing else. It was like +the refrain in the Burgundy carols, "Noel, Noel," which comes again +and again, and never tires of coming. + +A whole year passed away. Cristobal's mother only prayed now that her +boy might suffer less: she had ceased to pray for the healing of his +blindness. + +Now it was Christmas-tide again. Ever since Advent, people had been +clearing their throats, and singing carols. They roasted chestnuts, +drank white wine, and chanted praises of the "Little Jesus," who was +soon to come, bringing peace on earth, good-will to men. + +In the streets, one heard bagpipes and minstrels; and, by the +hearthstones, the music of the wandering piper. The children began to +talk again of the Yule-log, and to wonder what gifts Noel would bring +to place under each end of it; for these little folks, who have no +stocking-saint like our Santa Claus, believe in another quite as good, +who rains down sugar-plums in the night. + +Everywhere there was a joyful bustle. Housewives were making ready +their choicest dishes for the great Christmas-supper; fathers were +slyly peeping into shop-windows, and children hoarding their sous and +centimes for bonbons and comfits. + +Everybody was merry but Cristobal; or so thought the lad. He had no +money to spend, and little but pain for his holiday-cheer. A patch +here and there in his worn clothes was the best present his thrifty +mother was able to make; always excepting the little variegated taper, +which few were too poor to buy. + +Christmas Eve came. Family friends dropped in. The Yule-log was set +on the fire with shouts and singing. "Oh that I could see these kind +faces!" moaned Cristobal. "No doubt, Jasper's chestnuts are popping +merrily; and his shoes will be full of presents. And here am I! My +head aches, and my eye-balls burn." + +He stole out of the room, and, throwing himself on a wicker bench, +mused over his troubles in solitude. One might have supposed him +sleeping; for how should one imagine that his beautiful eyes were of +no manner of use, except when they were closed? When Cristobal said, +"Let me see," he dropped his eye-lids; and what he saw then, no artist +can paint. + +On this night, a beautiful child appeared before him, as like the +picture of the Little Jesus as if it had stepped out of its frame on +the church-wall. Even the crimson and blue tints of the old painting +were faithfully preserved; and every fold of the soft drapery was the +very same. + +"I saw you, Cristobal, when you came before me with your colored +candle, one year ago." + +"I knew it, I knew it!" cried Cristobal, clasping his hands in awe. "I +saw your eyes follow me; and I never once turned but you were looking. +They told me it was only a picture; but I said for that very reason +your eyes were sorrowful,--you longed to be alive." + +The child replied by a slight motion of the head; and the aureola +trembled like sunlight on the water. The longer Cristobal gazed, the +more courage he gathered. "Lovely vision," said he, "if vision you may +be,--I have said to myself, I would gladly walk to Rome with peas in +my shoes, if I could know what you wished to say to me that Christmas +night." + +"Only this, little brother: Are you ready for Christmas?" + +"Alas! no: I never am. I have only two sous in the world." + +"Poor Cristobal! Yet, without a centime, one may be ready for +Christmas." + +"But I am so very unhappy!" + +"You do indeed look sad, little brother: where is your pain?" + +"In my eyes," moaned the boy, pouring out the words with a delightful +sense of relief; for he was sure they dropped into a pitying heart. +"Beloved little Jesus, let me tell you that since I saw you last I +have been wickedly injured. Now I have always a pain in my eyes: there +are two flames behind them, which burn day and night." + +"I grieve for you," said the Child with exquisite tenderness; "yet, +dear boy, for all that, you might be ready for Christmas: but is there +not also a pain throbbing and burning in your _heart_?" + +"Oh, if you mean that, I am tossed up and down by vexation: I am full +of hatred against that terrible Jasper. It was all about a miserable +Christmas-candle he carried. I broke it by pushing him down. Tell me, +was he right to fly at me like a wild beast? Ought he not to suffer +even as I have suffered? Is it just, is it right, for the great man's +son to put out a peasant boy's eyes, and be happy again?" + +"Misguided Jasper!" said the Child solemnly; "let him answer for his +own sin: judge not, little brother." + +Cristobal hid his face in his hands, and wept for shame. + +"Shall I give you ten golden words for a Christmas-gift? Will you +hide them in your heart, and be happy?" + +"I will," answered Cristobal. + +"They are these," said the Child with a voice of wondrous sweetness: +"Pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you." + +Cristobal repeated the words, a soft light stealing over his face. "I +will remember," he said, looking up to meet the pleading eyes of the +Child: but, lo! the whole face had melted into the aureola; nothing +was left but light. Yet Cristobal was filled with a new joy; and, as +he opened his eyes, his dream--if dream it were--changed, becoming as +sweet and solemn as a prayer. It seemed to him that the roof of the +cottage glittered with stars, and was no longer a roof, but the +boundless sky; and, afar off, like remembered music, a voice fell on +his ear, "For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father +will also forgive you your trespasses." + +Cristobal arose, and, although still blind, walked in light. "It is +the aureola which has stolen into my heart," thought Cristobal. "The +pain and hate are all gone. Now I am ready for Christmas. I wish I +could help poor Jasper, who has such a weight of guilt to carry!" + +Next day, "golden-sided" Burgundy saw no happier boy than Cristobal. +He walked in the procession that night, carrying a candle whose light +he could not see; but what did it signify, since there was light in +his soul? + +Hark! In the midst of the Christmas-chimes breaks the jangling of +fire-bells. The count's house is on fire! The sparks pour out thicker +and faster; tongues of flame leap to the sky; the bells clang +hoarsely; the Christmas procession is broken into wild disorder; the +wheels of the engine roll through the streets, unheard in the din. + +Cristobal rushed eagerly toward the flames, but was pulled away by the +people. + +"We cannot drown the fire!" they cried: "the building must fall! Are +the inmates all safe?" + +"All, thank Heaven!" cried the count. + +"No: _Jasper_! See, he waves his hand from the third story! Save him! +save my boy!" + +Jasper had set fire to a curtain with his fatal Christmas-candle. Now +he raved and shouted in vain: no one would venture up the ladder. + +"O Little Jesus," whispered Cristobal, "give light to my eyes, even as +unto my soul! Let me save Jasper!" + +At once the iron band fell from Cristobal's vision. He saw, and, at +the same moment, felt a supernatural strength. He tore away from the +restraining arms of the people; he rushed up the ladder, shouting, "In +the name of the Little Jesus!" He reached the window, heedless of his +scorched arms. "Jasper!" he cried, seizing the half-conscious boy, "be +not afraid: I have the strength to carry you." + +And down the ladder he bore him, step by step, through the crackling +flames. + +Jasper was revived; and the fainting Cristobal was borne through the +streets in the arms of the populace. + +"Wonder of wonders!" they all shouted. + +"It was the Little Jesus," gasped Cristobal: "he opened my eyes; he +guided me up the ladder, and down again!" + +"Hallelujah!" was now the cry. "On the birthday of our Lord, the +blind receive their sight." + +"It is a triumph of faith," said the saints reverently. + +"A miracle," murmured the nuns, making the sign of the cross. + +"Not a miracle," replied the wise doctors, after they had first +consulted their books: "it is only the electrifying of the optic +nerve." + +But hardly any two could agree, and what was so mysterious at the time +is no clearer now. + +"Dear little Cristobal," sobbed the broken-hearted Jasper, "how could +you forgive such a wicked boy as I?" + +"It was very easy," replied Cristobal, "when once the Little Jesus +called me 'brother,' and bade me pray for you." + +"Oh that I could repay you for your wonderful deed of love," said +Jasper, through his tears. + +"Do not thank me," whispered Cristobal, with a look of awe; "thank the +Little Jesus. And when he comes again next year, to ask what feelings +we hold in our hearts, let us both be ready for Christmas." + + + + +WILD ROBIN. + +A SCOTTISH FAIRY TALE. + + +In the green valley of the Yarrow, near the castle-keep of Norham, +dwelt an honest, sonsy little family, whose only grief was an unhappy +son, named Robin. + +Janet, with jimp form, bonnie eyes, and cherry cheeks, was the best of +daughters; the boys, Sandie and Davie, were swift-footed, brave, kind, +and obedient; but Robin, the youngest, had a stormy temper, and, when +his will was crossed, he became as reckless as a reeling hurricane. +Once, in a passion, he drove two of his father's "kye," or cattle, +down a steep hill to their death. He seemed not to care for home or +kindred, and often pierced the tender heart of his mother with sharp +words. When she came at night, and "happed" the bed-clothes carefully +about his form, and then stooped to kiss his nut-brown cheeks, he +turned away with a frown, muttering, "Mither, let me be." + +It was a sad case with Wild Robin, who seemed to have neither love nor +conscience. + +"My heart is sair," sighed his mother, "wi' greeting over sich a son." + +"He hates our auld cottage and our muckle wark," said the poor father. +"Ah, weel! I could a'maist wish the fairies had him for a season, to +teach him better manners." + +This the gudeman said heedlessly, little knowing there was any danger +of Robin's being carried away to Elf-land. Whether the fairies were at +that instant listening under the eaves, will never be known; but it +chanced, one day, that Wild Robin was sent across the moors to fetch +the kye. + +"I'll rin away," thought the boy: "'tis hard indeed if ilka day a +great lad like me must mind the kye. I'll gae aff; and they'll think +me dead." + +So he gaed, and he gaed, over round swelling hills, over old +battle-fields, past the roofless ruins of houses whose walls were +crowned with tall climbing grasses, till he came to a crystal sheet of +water, called St. Mary's Loch. Here he paused to take breath. The sky +was dull and lowering; but at his feet were yellow flowers, which +shone, on that gray day, like freaks of sunshine. + +He threw himself wearily upon the grass, not heeding that he had +chosen his couch within a little mossy circle known as a "fairy's +ring." Wild Robin knew that the country people would say the fays had +pressed that green circle with their light feet. He had heard all the +Scottish lore of brownies, elves, will-o'-the-wisps, and the strange +water-kelpies, who shriek with eldritch laughter. He had been told +that the queen of the fairies had coveted him from his birth, and +would have stolen him away, only that, just as she was about to seize +him from the cradle, he had _sneezed_; and from that instant the +fairy-spell was over, and she had no more control of him. + +Yet, in spite of all these stories, the boy was not afraid; and if he +had been informed that any of the uncanny people were, even now, +haunting his footsteps, he would not have believed it. + +"I see," said Wild Robin, "the sun is drawing his night-cap over his +eyes, and dropping asleep. I believe I'll e'en take a nap mysel', and +see what comes o' it." + +In two minutes he had forgotten St. Mary's Loch, the hills, the moors, +the yellow flowers. He heard, or fancied he heard, his sister Janet +calling him home. + +"And what have ye for supper?" he muttered between his teeth. + +"Parritch and milk," answered the lassie gently. + +"Parritch and milk! Whist! say nae mair! Lang, lang may ye wait for +Wild Robin: he'll not gae back for oat-meal parritch!" + +Next a sad voice fell on his ear. + +"Mither's; and she mourns me dead!" thought he; but it was only the +far-off village-bell, which sounded like the echo of music he had +heard lang syne, but might never hear again. + +"D'ye think I'm not alive?" tolled the bell. "I sit all day in my +little wooden temple, brooding over the sins of the parish." + +"A brazen lie!" cried Robin. + +"Nay, the truth, as I'm a living soul! Wae worth ye, Robin Telfer: ye +think yersel' hardly used. Say, have your brithers softer beds than +yours? Is your ain father served with larger potatoes or creamier +buttermilk? Whose mither sae kind as yours, ungrateful chiel? Gae to +Elf-land, Wild Robin; and dool and wae follow ye! dool and wae follow +ye!" + +The round yellow sun had dropped behind the hills; the evening breezes +began to blow; and now could be heard the faint trampling of small +hoofs, and the tinkling of tiny bridle-bells: the fairies were +trooping over the ground. First of all rode the queen. + + "Her skirt was of the grass-green silk, + Her mantle of the velvet fine; + At ilka tress of her horse's mane + Hung fifty silver bells and nine." + +But Wild Robin's closed eyes saw nothing; his sleep-sealed ears heard +nothing. The queen of fairies dismounted, stole up to him, and laid +her soft fingers on his cheeks. + +"Here is a little man after my ain heart," said she: "I like his +knitted brow, and the downward curve of his lips. Knights, lift him +gently, set him on a red-roan steed, and waft him away to Fairy-land." + +Wild Robin was lifted as gently as a brown leaf borne by the wind; he +rode as softly as if the red-roan steed had been saddled with satin, +and shod with velvet. It even may be that the faint tinkling of the +bridle-bells lulled him into a deeper slumber; for when he awoke it +was morning in Fairy-land. + +Robin sprang from his mossy couch, and stared about him. Where was he? +He rubbed his eyes, and looked again. Dreaming, no doubt; but what +meant all these nimble little beings bustling hither and thither in +hot haste? What meant these pearl-bedecked caves, scarcely larger than +swallows' nests? these green canopies, overgrown with moss? He pinched +himself, and gazed again. Countless flowers nodded to him, and seemed, +like himself, on tiptoe with curiosity, he thought. He beckoned one of +the busy, dwarfish little brownies toward him. + +"I ken I'm talking in my sleep," said the lad; "but can ye tell me +what dell is this, and how I chanced to be in it?" + +The brownie might or might not have heard; but, at any rate, he +deigned no reply, and went on with his task, which was pounding seeds +in a stone mortar. + +"Am I Robin Telfer, of the Valley of Yarrow, and yet canna shake aff +my silly dreams?" + +"Weel, my lad," quoth the queen of the fairies, giving him a smart tap +with her wand, "stir yersel', and be at work; for naebody idles in +Elf-land." + +Bewildered Robin ventured a look at the little queen. By daylight she +seemed somewhat sleepy and tired; and was withal so tiny, that he +might almost have taken her between his thumb and finger, and twirled +her above his head; yet she poised herself before him on a +mullein-stalk, and looked every inch a queen. Robin found her gaze +oppressive; for her eyes were hard and cold and gray, as if they had +been little orbs of granite. + +"Get ye to work, Wild Robin!" + +"What to do?" meekly asked the boy, hungrily glancing at a few kernels +of rye which had rolled out of one of the brownie's mortars. + +"Are ye hungry, my laddie? touch a grain of rye if ye dare! Shell +these dry bains; and if so be ye're starving, eat as many as ye can +boil in an acorn-cup." + +With these words she gave the boy a withered bean-pod, and, summoning +a meek little brownie, bade him see that the lad did not over-fill the +acorn-cup, and that he did not so much as peck at a grain of rye. +Then, glancing sternly at her unhappy prisoner, she withdrew, sweeping +after her the long train of her green robe. + +The dull days crept by, and still there seemed no hope that Wild Robin +would ever escape from his beautiful but detested prison. He had no +wings, poor laddie; and he could neither become invisible nor draw +himself through a keyhole bodily. + +It is true, he had mortal companions: many chubby babies; many +bright-eyed boys and girls, whose distracted parents were still +seeking them, far and wide, upon the earth. It would almost seem that +the wonders of Fairy-land might make the little prisoners happy. There +were countless treasures to be had for the taking, and the very dust +in the little streets was precious with specks of gold: but the poor +children shivered for the want of a mother's love; they all pined for +the dear home-people. If a certain task seemed to them particularly +irksome, the heartless queen was sure to find it out, and oblige them +to perform it, day after day. If they disliked any article of food, +that, and no other, were they forced to eat, or starve. + +Wild Robin, loathing his withered beans and unsalted broths, longed +intensely for one little breath of fragrant steam from the toothsome +parritch on his father's table, one glance at a roasted potato. He was +homesick for the gentle sister he had neglected, the rough brothers +whose cheeks he had pelted black and blue; and yearned for the very +chinks in the walls, the very thatch on the home-roof. + +Gladly would he have given every fairy-flower, at the root of which +clung a lump of gold ore, if he might have had his own coverlet +"happed" about him once more by the gentle hands he had despised. + +"Mither," he whispered in his dreams, "my shoon are worn, and my feet +bleed; but I'll soon creep hame, if I can. Keep the parritch warm for +me." + +Robin was as strong as a mountain-goat; and his strength was put to +the task of threshing rye, grinding oats and corn, or drawing water +from a brook. + +Every night, troops of gay fairies and plodding brownies stole off on +a visit to the upper world, leaving Robin and his companions in ever +deeper despair. Poor Robin! he was fain to sing,-- + + "Oh that my father had ne'er on me smiled! + Oh that my mother had ne'er to me sung! + Oh that my cradle had never been rocked, + But that I had died when I was young!" + +Now, there was one good-natured brownie who pitied Robin. When he took +a journey to earth with his fellow-brownies, he often threshed rye for +the laddie's father, or churned butter in his good mother's dairy, +unseen and unsuspected. If the little creature had been watched, and +paid for these good offices, he would have left the farmhouse forever +in sore displeasure. + +To homesick Robin he brought news of the family who mourned him as +dead. He stole a silky tress of Janet's fair hair, and wondered to see +the boy weep over it; for brotherly affection is a sentiment which +never yet penetrated the heart of a brownie. The dull little sprite +would gladly have helped the poor lad to his freedom, but told him +that only on one night of the year was there the least hope, and that +was on Hallow-e'en, when the whole nation of fairies ride in +procession through the streets of earth. + +So Robin was instructed to spin a dream, which the kind brownie would +hum in Janet's ear while she slept. By this means the lassie would not +only learn that her brother was in the power of the elves, but would +also learn how to release him. + +Accordingly, the night before Hallow-e'en, the bonnie Janet dreamed +that the long-lost Robin was living in Elf-land, and that he was to +pass through the streets with a cavalcade of fairies. But, alas! how +should even a sister know him in the dim starlight, among the passing +troops of elfish and mortal riders? The dream assured her that she +might let the first company go by, and the second; but Robin would be +one of the third:-- + + "First let pass the black, Janet, + And syne let pass the brown; + But grip ye to the milk-white steed, + And pull the rider down. + + For _I_ ride on the milk-white steed, + And aye nearest the town: + Because I was a christened lad + They gave me that renown. + + My right hand will be gloved, Janet; + My left hand will be bare; + And these the tokens I give thee: + No doubt I will be there. + + They'll shape me in your arms, Janet, + A toad, snake, and an eel + But hold me fast, nor let me gang, + As you do love me weel. + + They'll shape me in your arms, Janet, + A dove, bat, and a swan: + Cast your green mantle over me, + I'll be myself again." + +The good sister Janet, far from remembering any of the old sins of her +brother, wept for joy to know that he was yet among the living. She +told no one of her strange dream; but hastened secretly to the Miles +Cross, saw the strange cavalcade pricking through the greenwood, and +pulled down the rider on the milk-white steed, holding him fast +through all his changing shapes. But when she had thrown her green +mantle over him, and clasped him in her arms as her own brother +Robin, the angry voice of the fairy queen was heard:-- + + "Up then spake the queen of fairies, + Out of a bush of rye, + 'You've taken away the bonniest lad + In all my companie. + + 'Had I but had the wit, yestreen, + That I have learned to-day, + I'd pinned the sister to her bed + E're he'd been won away!'" + +However, it was too late now. Wild Robin was safe, and the elves had +lost their power over him forever. His forgiving parents and his +leal-hearted brothers welcomed him home with more than the old love. + +So grateful and happy was the poor laddie, that he nevermore grumbled +at his oat-meal parritch, or minded his kye with a scowling brow. + +But to the end of his days, when he heard mention of fairies and +brownies, his mind wandered off in a mizmaze. He died in peace, and +was buried on the banks of the Yarrow. + + + + +THE VESPER STAR. + + +Once upon a time, the new moon was shining like a silver bow in the +heavens, and the stars glittered and trembled as if they were afraid. + +"What frightens you?" said the placid Moon; "be calm, like me." + +"I am freezing," answered the North Star; "that is why I shake." + +"We are dancing," said the Seven Sisters; "and, watch as closely as +you please, you can never get a fair peep at our golden sandals, our +feet twinkle so." + +"I am sleepy," grumbled the Great Bear; "I am trying to keep my eyes +open. Perhaps that is the reason I wink so much." + +Thus, with one accord, they made excuses to the pale Moon, who is +their guardian,--all but the sweet Vesper Star: she was silent; and +when a white cloud floated by, she was glad of an excuse to hide her +face. + +"Let the North Star shiver, and the Seven Sisters dance, and all the +golden stars hold a revel," thought she; "as for me, I am sad." + +For you must know that the Vesper Star has a task to perform, and is +not allowed to sleep. She keeps vigil over the Earth, by night; and +never ceases her watch till the world is up in the morning. For the +sick and sad, who cannot sleep, she feels an unutterable pity, so that +her heart is always throbbing with sorrow. + +The Moon looked at the Vesper Star, and said, "Dream on, sweet sister; +for you, the noblest of all, have told me no falsehood." + +This the Moon said because she knew that none of the stars had given +a true reason for twinkling so gayly that night. The truth was, they +were filled with envy, and were trying to be as brilliant as possible, +to compete with a flaming Comet which had just appeared in the sky. + +It is not for man to know how long and how peacefully the gentle stars +had travelled together, doing the work which God has appointed, +without a murmur. But now that this distinguished stranger had +arrived, the whole firmament was in dismay. How proudly he strode the +heavens! how his blaze illumined the sky! The Stars whispered one to +another, and cast angry eyes on the shining wonder. + +"Make way for me," he said, sweeping after him a glorious train of +light. + +"Not I," muttered the fiery Mars. + +"Not I," quoth the majestic Jupiter; "I do not move an inch." + +The Comet flashed with a lofty disdain. + +"Puny Stars," said he, "keep your places, give out all your +light,--nobody heeds you; the place of honor is always by the Vesper +Star; here I make my throne." + +The Vesper Star smiled sadly, but without a twinge of envy. + +"Welcome, shining one! Warm me with your fires; let us work together." + +"Work!" cried the Comet, throwing out sparkles of scorn; "I was not +born to work, but to _shine_!" + +"Indeed!" said the Vesper Star; "you have come into strange company, +then; for here we all work with a good will." "He does not burn with +the true fire," thought the good Star; and she wrapped herself about +with a soft cloud, and said no more. + +"Oh that I could be set on fire like the Comet!" thought the cold +North Star. "I would gladly burn to death if I could astonish the +world with my blaze!" + +"Let us die!" said the Seven Sisters; "let us die together; we have +ceased to be noticed." + +"Ah, hum!" growled the Great Bear; "so many years as I have kept watch +in this sky; and now to be set one side by this upstart of a +foreigner! I've a great mind to go to sleep and never wake up!" + +"Hush!" whispered the Vesper Star gently; "do your duty, and trust God +for the rest." + +And lo! that very night there was an end of the Comet's splendor. + +"Adieu, my dull friends," said he; "I am tired of a quiet life: a +little more, and I should fade out entirely!" + +Then, with a blaze and a whiz, and a dizzy wheel, he flashed out of +the sky; and no one knew whither he went, or whence he came, any more +than the path of the quick lightning. + +The stars were ashamed of their envy, and went to their old work with +a stronger will and a steadier purpose: but to the Vesper Star was +given a brighter and sweeter light than to any other, because she had +done her work without envy and without repining. + + + + +THE WATER-KELPIE. + + +Once there lived under the earth a race of fairies called gnomes. They +were strange little beings, with dull eyes and harsh voices; but they +did no harm, and lived in peace. + +They never saw the sun; but they had lamps much brighter than our +gaslight, which burned night and day, year after year. + +They had music; but it was the tinkling of silver bells and golden +harps,--not half so sweet as the singing of birds and the babbling of +brooks. + +Flowers they had none, but plenty of gems,--"the stars of earth." +There were green trees in the kingdom: but the leaves were hard +emeralds; and the fruit, apples of gold or cherries of ruby; and these +precious gems the gnomes ground to powder, and swallowed with much +satisfaction. + +They heaped up piles of gold and diamonds as high as your head; and +never was there a gnome so poor as to build a house of any thing a +whit coarser than jasper or onyx. You would have believed yourself +dreaming, if you could have walked through the streets of their +cities. They were paved with rosy almandine and snowy alabaster; and +the palaces glittered in the gay lamplight like a million stars. + +These gnomes led, for the most part, rather dull lives. Like their +cousins, the water-sprites, or undines, they were roguish and shrewd, +but had no higher views of life than our katydids and crickets. +Indeed, they hardly cared for any thing but frisking about, eating +and sleeping. But, after all, what can be expected of creatures +without souls? One sees, now and then, stupid human beings, whose eyes +have no thoughts in them, and whose souls seem to be sound asleep. +Such lumps of dulness might almost as well be gnomes, and slip into +the earth and have done with it. + +These underground folk had a great horror of our world. They knew all +about it; for one of them had peeped out and taken a bird's-eye view. +He went up very bravely, but hurried back with such strange accounts, +that his friends considered him a little insane. + +"Listen!" said the gnome, whose name was Clod. "The earth has a soft +carpet, of a new kind of emerald; overhead is a blue roof, made of +turquoise; but I am told that there is a crack in it, and sometimes +water comes pouring down in torrents. But the worst plague of all is +a great glaring eye-ball of fire, which mortals call the sun." + +When Clod told his stories of the earth, he always ended by saying,-- + +"Believe me, it is bad luck to have the sun shine on you. It nearly +put my eyes out; and I have had the headache ever since." + +Now, there was a young girl, named Moneta, who listened very eagerly +to the old gnome's stories of the earth, and thought she would like to +see it for herself. She was a kind little maiden, as playful as a +kitten; and her friends were not willing she should go. But Moneta had +somewhere heard that fairies who marry mortals receive the gift of a +human soul: so, in spite of all objections, she was resolved to take +the journey; for she had in her dark mind some vague aspirations after +a higher state of being. + +Then the gnome-family declared, that, if she once went away, they +would never allow her to return; for they highly disapproved of +running backward and forward between the two worlds, gossiping. + +"Have you no love of country," cried they, "that you would willingly +cast your lot among silly creatures who look down upon your race?" + +The old gnome, who had travelled, took the romantic maiden one side, +and said,-- + +"My dear Moneta, since you _will_ go, I must tell you a secret; for +you remember I have seen the world, and know all about it. Mortals are +a higher race than ourselves, it is true; but that is only because +they live atop o' the earth, while we are under their feet. They make +a great parade about their little ticking jewel they call Conscience; +but, after all, they will any of them sell it for one of our +ear-rings! I assure you they love money better than their own souls; +and I would advise you, as a friend that has seen the world, to load +yourself with as much gold as you can carry." + +So Moneta donned a heavy dress of spun gold, which was woven in such a +manner, that, at every motion she made, it let fall a shower of +gold-dust. She filled the sleeves with sardonyx, almandine, and +amethyst; and hid in her bosom diamonds and sapphires enough to +purchase a kingdom. + +Then she went up a steep ladder, and knocked on the alabaster ceiling, +using the charm which the gnome had given her:-- + +"Mother Earth, Mother Earth, set me free!" + +At her words there was a sound as of an earthquake, and a little space +was made, just large enough for her to crawl through. When she had +reached the top, the earth closed again, and she was left seated upon +a rock; and the light of the sun was so dazzling, that she hid her +face in her hands. + +Thus she sat for a long time, not knowing whither to go, till a young +man chanced to come that way, who said, "What do you here?" + +She raised her face at his words, and could not speak, so great was +her surprise at the beauty of the strange youth. He, for his part, +could not help smiling; for she was as yellow as an orange; and an +uglier little creature he had never beheld: but he said in a kind +voice,-- + +"Come with me to my mother's house, and you shall be refreshed with +cake and wine." + +She arose to follow him; and, as she walked, a bright shower of +gold-dust sprinkled the earth at every step. + +The young man held out his hands eagerly to catch the shining spray, +thinking he would like such a rarely-gifted damsel for his wife; and, +in truth, he smiled so sweetly, and dropped such winning words, that +in time he won her heart and she became his bride. + + "And, when she cam' into the kirk, + She shimmered like the sun; + The belt that was about her waist + Was a' with pearles bedone." + +So great was her love for him, that she forgot her lost home under the +earth; and every day, when she bade her husband "good-morning," she +placed in his hand a precious stone; and he kissed her, calling her +his "dear Moneta," his "heart's jewel." But at last the diamonds, +sapphires, and rubies were all gone; and she was also losing the power +of shedding gold-dust. Then her husband frowned on her, and no longer +called her his "heart's jewel," or his "dear Moneta." + +At length she presented him with a little daughter as lovely as a +water-sprite, with hair like threads of gold. Now the father watched +the babe with a greedy eye; for its mother had wept precious tears of +molten gold before she received the gift of human grief, and he hoped +her child would do the same; but, when he found it was only a common +mortal, he shut his heart against the babe. Moneta was no longer +yellow and ugly, but very beautiful; with deep eyes, out of which +looked a sweet soul: yet she had lost her fairy gifts, and her husband +had ceased to love her. The good woman mourned in secret; and would +have wished to die, only her precious child comforted her heart. + +One day, as she was sitting by the shore of the lake, a water-kelpie +saw her weeping, and came to her in the form of a white-haired old +man, saying,-- + +"Charming lady! why do you weep? Come with me to my kingdom under the +waters. My people are always happy." + +Then she looked where he bade her, and saw, afar down under the +waters, a beautiful city, whose streets were paved with red and white +coral. + +The kelpie said, "Will you go down?" + +"No," sighed Moneta, thinking of the kind words her husband had +sometimes spoken to her: "I cannot go yet." + +But the kelpie came every day, repeating the question, "Will you go +now?" and she answered, "I cannot go yet." + +But at last her husband said,-- + +"How often the thought comes to me, If I had no wife and child, all +this gold would be mine!" and he knitted his brows with a frown. + +Then Moneta looked in his face, and said,-- + +"Dear Ivan, I have loved you truly; but you no longer care for Moneta. +I will go away with the little child, and all our gold shall be yours. +Farewell!" + +Then she embraced him with falling tears. His heart was stirred within +him; and he would have followed her, only he knew not which way she +had gone. + +Soon the water-kelpie came to him in the form of a horse; and ran +before him, neighing fiercely, and breathing fire from his mouth. This +is the way kelpies take to announce the fact that some one has gone +under the water. + +So the man followed the kelpie. His heart was swelling with grief; +and all his love for his wife and child had come back to him. + +He looked into the lake, and saw the fair city. In a transparent +palace Moneta was sitting, crowned with pearls, the child sleeping on +her bosom. He shouted,-- + +"Come back, O Moneta!" but she heard him not. + +He went every day to the same spot, never leaving it until the water +was clear, and he had seen his wife and child. He cared no more for +his fine castle and his gold; for the castle was empty, and the gold +could not speak. + +"Alas," cried he, "if I could listen to the music of Moneta's voice! +if I could hold the child in my arms once more!" + +Now he cared for nothing but to gaze into the waters at Moneta and her +child. + +One day, the water-kelpie appeared to him in the form of an old man. + + [Illustration: THE WATER-KELPIE. Page 70.] + +"Why sit you here, sighing like the north wind?" said the kelpie. + +"I have loved gold better than my best friends," replied Ivan; "and +now my best friends are taken away from me, and the gold is left; but +I love it no longer." + +"Ah, ah!" growled the kelpie; "I have heard of such men as you: +nothing is dear till it is missed. You should have thought of that +before. If your lost ones were to return, you would treat them as +badly as ever, no doubt." + +"No, no," groaned Ivan; "I would love them better than all the wealth +in the world! I would love them better than my own life! Ah, the sting +it is to think of my own ingratitude!" + +"Hold!" said the kelpie: "grumble to yourself if you like, but don't +vex my ears with your complaints. Suppose I were to bring back Moneta +and the child,--would you give me your chests of gold?" + +"That I will," cried the man, "right joyfully." + +"Not so fast: will you give me your castle as well?" + +"Ah, yes, castle and gold; take them, and welcome." + +"Not so fast: Moneta and her child are worth more than these. Will you +give me the castle and gold, and ten years of your life?" + +"With all my heart." + +"Then," said the kelpie "go home, and to-morrow you shall see Moneta +and her child." + +When the morrow came, the husband and wife wept for joy at meeting +once more; and Ivan said,-- + +"Can you forgive me, dearest Moneta?" + +Moneta had already forgiven him; and the three--father, mother, and +child--loved one another, and were content to the end of their lives; +and Ivan said,-- + +"Once for all I have found that gold cannot make one happy; but, with +the blessing of a clear conscience, warm hearts and loving words are +the sweetest things in life." + + + + +THE LOST SYLPHID. + + "I tell the tale as 'twas told to me." + + +I have heard that one night, on a distant shore, a band of +water-nixies were dancing to gentle music, their golden sandals +twinkling like stars. + +A lord and lady were walking on the same shore. The lord's eyes were +bent on the ground; but his wife paused, and said,-- + +"Listen, my lord, to that enchanting music!" + +"I hear no music," he replied, laughing. "You must wake up, dear wife. + + "With half-shut eyes, ever you seem + Falling asleep in a half-dream." + +"But, my lord, those exquisite beings in gossamer robes! surely you +see them!" + +"I see the play of the moonbeams, my love, and nothing more." + +But the wife stood transfixed. One beautiful fairy, taller and fairer +than her companions, had wings, and floated through the dance, +scarcely touching the earth. + +"Was ever such a vision of loveliness?" cried the enraptured lady: +"she must be my own little daughter,--eat of my bread, and sleep upon +my bosom." + +Then, kneeling, she sang,-- + + "Fair little nixies, that dwell near the water, + Give me the winged one to be my own daughter." + +The dance ceased. The nixies, bewildered, looked north and south, and +knew not which way to flee; but the winged fairy, attracted by the +human love in the lady's eyes, glided slowly forward. Then the nixies +stormed in fierce wrath, their willowy figures swaying to and fro as +if blown by the wind. + +"They shall not harm you, little one. Come with me, be my own +daughter, and I will carry you home." + +"Home!" echoed the lovely child; "my home is in the Summer-land. Oh, +will you indeed carry me there?" + +Then she folded her white wings, and nestled in the lady's bosom like +a gentle dove, and was borne to a beautiful castle that overlooked the +sea. The water-nixies soon forgot her, for they could not hold her +memory in their little humming-bird hearts. + +She was not of their race. Her wings were soft and transparent, like +those of a white butterfly; and she ever declared that she had once +alighted from a cloud, and been caught in a nixie's net spread upon +the grass. + +But, in time, her wings dwindled and disappeared; and then the lord, +who was now her father, could not remember that she had ever been +other than an earthly child. + +"You fancy you were once a sylphid," said he; "but there are no +sylphids, my sweet one, and there is no Summer-land." + +The child became as dear to the lord and lady as their very heart's +blood; and they forgot her foreign birth, and almost believed, as all +the world did, that she was their own little daughter. But the child +did not forget. She longed for the true home she had left; but whither +should she go to seek it? + +"Dear papa," said she, one day, "I beg you will not say again there +are no sylphids; for I remember so well how I spread my wings and +flew. It was glorious to see the clouds float under my feet!" + +"Very well," said the lord; "if you like, I will say there are +sylphids in the air, and trolls inside the earth; and, once on a time, +I was myself a great white butterfly: do you remember chasing me over +a bed of roses?" + +"O papa, now you laugh! I love the twinkle in your eye; and I am so +glad it is you, and no one else, who is my papa; but just the same, +and forevermore, I shall keep saying, _I was a sylphid_!" + +Sometimes, when she set her white teeth into some delicious fruit, she +said with dreamy eyes,-- + +"These grapes of Samarcand came across the seas; but they are not so +sweet as the fruit in my own garden, mamma." + +"And where is your garden, my child?" + +"Oh, in the Summer-land. I always forget that you have never seen it. +When I go there again, mamma, I will certainly take you too; for I +love you with all my heart. I can never go without you." + +When she heard the evening-bells from the minster, she said, "Oh, they +are like the joy-bells at home, only not so sweet. Nothing, here, is +so sweet. Even my dear mamma is not so lovely as the lady who comes +when I am asleep." + +Little One--they called her Little One for the want of a name--loved +to prattle about the wonders of that mysterious fairy-land, which no +one but herself had ever seen. Her mother would not check her, but let +her tell her pretty visions of remembered rainbows, and palaces, and +precious gems. She said,-- + +"The child has such a vivid fancy! It is not all of us who can see +pictures when our eyes are shut." + +But the lord was not so well pleased; and once, when his daughter +looked at a frozen stream and murmured, "_We_ have the _happiest_ +rivers at home; they sing all day long, all the year, without +freezing! Can I find that Summer-land again! Oh, I would creep all +over the world to seek it," he replied,-- + +"Little One, it is some cloud-city you are thinking of, some +dream-land, or isle of Long Ago, which you will never see again. I beg +you to forget these wild fancies." + +But still the child dreamed on. Once she heard the glad song of the +Hyperboreans:-- + + "I come from a land in the sun-bright deep, + Where golden gardens glow; + Where the winds of the North, becalmed in sleep, + Their conch-shells never blow." + +She clapped her hands, murmuring to herself,-- + +"_There_ is my home! I think I remember now it _was_ 'a land in the +sun-bright deep!'" + +So, when she journeyed with her parents to distant countries, she +always hoped that some ship would bear her away to the Happy Isles; +and when they once touched a bright shore, and some one cried, "The +isles of Greece! the isles of Greece!" she thought she was home at +last, and hardly dared look at the remembered shore. But, alas, she +had not yet reached the Summer-land: this was not her home. + +Then she heard her father say that the jewels she wore had been +brought up from the deep places under the earth. + +"I wonder I had not thought of that," she said to herself. "Since +there are such beautiful gems in my lost home, it must lie under the +earth. No doubt if I could only find the right cave, and walk in it +far enough, I should come to the Summer-land." + +So she set out, one day, in wild haste, but only lost herself in a +deep cavern; and, when she found daylight again, she was all alone +upon the face of the earth. Her father and mother were nowhere to be +seen. She shouted their names, and ran to and fro seeking them till +her strength was all spent. It was growing dark; and Little One could +only creep under a shelter, and weep herself asleep. + +Next morning it was no better, but far worse. Her wretched parents had +gone home, believing her drowned in the sea. Poor Little One was now +all alone in the world, and her heart ached with the cold. Kind +friends gave her food and shelter, and her clothing was warm as warm +could be; still her heart ached with the cold. People praised her +beauty so much that she dared not look up to let them see how lovely +she was; but she had lost both her father and mother, and her heart +ached and ached. She thought winter was coming on; and the world was +growing so chilly, that now she must certainly set out for the +Summer-land. Then she said,-- + +"If I am a sylphid, perhaps my home is over the hills, and far away. +Yes: I think it must be in the country where the music goes." + +For she thought, when she heard music, that it seemed to hover and +float over the earth, and lose itself in the sky; so she began to set +her face toward the country where the music goes. But, though she +gazed till her eyes ached, she never saw her long-lost home, nor so +much as a glimpse of one of its spires. + +One night, after gazing and weeping till she could scarcely see, and +had no tears left, the bright being who visited her dreams came and +whispered,-- + + "If there be a land so fair + O'er the mountain shining, + You will never enter there + By looking up and pining." + +"Dear me! then what shall I do?" said Little One, clasping her hands. +"I am tired of the dropping rain, and the bleak winds; I have lost my +father and mother; I long to go home to the Summer-land." + +"There are hills to climb, and streams to cross," said the fairy. + +"But I have stout shoes," laughed Little One. + +"There are thorns and briers all along the road." + +"But I can bear to be pricked." + +"Then I will guide you," said the fairy. + +"How can that be?" cried the child. "You come to me in dreams; but by +daylight I cannot see so much as the tips of your wings." + +"Listen, and you will hear my voice," replied the fairy. "Set out +toward the East, at dawn, to-morrow, and I will be with you." + +When Little One awoke, the sun was rising, and she said,-- + +"Oh that golden gate! The sun has left it open: do you see it, +beautiful lady?" + +"I see it," whispered the fairy: "I am close beside you." + +"Then," said Little One, fastening her dress, and putting on all the +jewels she could possibly carry, "I think I will set out at once; for, +if I make all speed, I may reach the Summer-land before that golden +gate is closed." + +She pressed on, as the fairy directed, up a steep hill, her eyes +fixed on the glowing eastern sky. But, as the sun strode up higher, +the morning clouds melted away. + +"Where is my golden gate?" cried the child. + +"Weeping so soon?" whispered the fairy. + +"Do not scold me, dear Whisper," moaned the child; "you know I have +lost my kind father and mother; and the thorns prick me; and then this +is such a lonely road; there is nobody to be seen." + +The truth was, there were children gathering strawberries on the hill, +and old women digging herbs; but Little One did not see them, for she +was all the while watching the sky. But she was soon obliged to pause, +and take breath. + +"Look about you," said the Whisper, "you may see some one as unhappy +as yourself." + +The child looked, and saw a little girl driving a goat; while large +tears trickled down her cheeks, and moistened her tattered dress. For +a moment, Little One's heart ceased aching with its own troubles. + +"What is your name, little girl?" said she: "and why do you weep?" + +"My name is Poor Dorel," replied the child; "my father and mother are +long since dead; and I have nothing to eat but goat's milk and +strawberries:" and, as she spoke, the large tears started afresh. + +"Poor Dorel! you are the first one I ever saw who had as much trouble +as I. I, too, have lost a father and mother." + +"Were they a king and queen?" asked Dorel, wiping her eyes, and gazing +at Little One's beautiful dress and glittering ornaments. + +"They loved me dearly," replied Little One sadly; "yet I never heard +that they were king and queen. Come with me, darling Dorel! I never +before saw any one who was hungry. Come with me! I live in a country +where there is food enough for everybody." + +"Where is that?" said Dorel, eagerly. + +"I do not quite know, little girl; but it is not in the bosom of the +earth, and it is not in the sun-bright deep: so I suppose it is over +the hills, and far away." + +"Now I know who you are," said Dorel. "You are the _lost sylphid_; and +people say you have travelled all over the world. But, if you do not +know the way home, pray how can you tell which road to take?" + +"Oh! I have a guide,--a beautiful fairy, called Whisper: she shows me +every step of the way. I wish you would go too, little Dorel!" + +"I think I will not, little Sylphid; for, if you have only a Whisper +for a guide, I do not believe you will ever get there; but, oh, you +are very, very beautiful!" + +"If you will not go," said Little One, "let me, at least, give you a +few of my jewels: you can sell them for bread." + +So saying, she took from her girdle some turquoise ornaments, and +placed them in Dorel's hand with a kiss which had her whole heart in +it. + +"Now I love you," said Dorel; "but more for the kiss than any thing +else; and I am going before you to cut down the thorns that shoot out +by the wayside. I am a little mountain-girl, and know how to use the +pruning-knife." + +Little One danced for joy. She found she could now walk with wonderful +ease; for not only were there no more sharp thorns to prick her, but +her heart was also full of a new love, which made the whole world look +beautiful. + +"You see the way is growing easier," said the Whisper. + + "Pour out thy love like the rush of a river, + Wasting its waters forever and ever." + +"So I will," said Little One. "Is there any one else to love?" + +By and by she met an old woman, bent nearly double, and picking up dry +sticks with trembling hands. + +"Poor woman!" said Little One: "I am going to love you." + +"Dear me!" said the old crone, dropping her sticks, and looking up +with surprise in every wrinkle: "you don't mean _me_? Why, my heart is +all dried up." + +"Then you need to be loved all the more," cried Little One heartily. + +The poor woman laughed; but, at the same time, brushed a tear from +her eye with the corner of her apron. + +"I thought," said Little One, "I was the only unhappy one in the +world: it seemed a pity my heart should ache so much; but, oh, I would +rather have it ache than be dried up!" + +"I suppose you never were beaten," said the old woman; "you were never +pelted with whizzing stones?" + +"Indeed I never, never was!" replied Little One, greatly shocked by +the question. + +"By your costly dress, I know you never were so poor as to be always +longing for food. Let me tell you, my good child, when one is beaten +and scolded, and feels cold all winter, and hungry all summer, it is +no wonder one's heart dries up!" + +Little One threw her arms about the old woman's neck. "Let me help +you pick sticks!" said she; "you are too old for hard work; your hands +tremble too much." + +Swiftly gathering up a load of fagots, she put them together in a +bundle. + +"Now, how many jewels shall I give her?" thought the child. "She must +never want for food again." + +"How many?" echoed the Whisper. + + "Give as the morning that flows out of heaven: + Give as the free air and sunshine are given." + +"Then she shall have half," said Little One in great glee. "Here, poor +woman, take these sapphires and rubies and diamonds, and never be +hungry again!" + +"Heavenly child!" said the stranger, laying her wasted hand on the +sylphid's bright head, and blessing her, "it is little except thanks +that an old creature like me can give; yet may be you will not scorn +this pair of little shoes: they are strong, and, when you have to step +on the sharp mountain-rocks, they will serve you well." + +Little One's delicate slippers were already much worn, and she gladly +exchanged them for the goat-skin shoes; but, strange to relate, no +sooner had she done so than she found herself flitting over rocks and +rough places with perfect ease, and at such speed, that, when she +looked back, in a moment, she had already left the old woman far +behind, and out of sight. They were magical shoes; but, no matter how +fast they skimmed over the ground, Dorel, out of pure love, continued +to go before, talking and laughing and smoothing the way. + +One by one Little One sold her jewels to buy bread, which she shared +with all the needy she chanced to meet. After many days there +remained but one gem; and she wept because she had no more to give. +But, through her tears, she now, for the first time, fancied she could +see the spires and turrets of her beautiful home, though, as yet, very +far off. + +"How fast I have come!" said she, laughing with delight. "But for +these magical shoes, and Dorel's pruning-knife, I should have been +even now struggling at the foot of the hill." + +Then she looked down at her torn dress. + +"What a sad plight I am in! no one will know me when I get home!" + +"Never fear!" said the fairy: "you are sure to be welcome." + +Little One now held up her last jewel in the sunlight, while a +starving boy looked at it with eager eyes. + +"Take it!" said she, weeping with the tenderest pity. "I only wish +it were a diamond instead of a ruby,--a diamond as large as my heart!" + + [Illustration: THE LOST SYLPHID. Page 95.] + +The boy blessed her with a tremulous voice. Little One pressed on, +singing softly to herself, till she came to a frightful chasm, full of +water. + +"How shall I ever cross it!" she cried in alarm. + +"May I help you, fair Sylphid?" said the grateful boy to whom she had +given her last jewel. "I can make a bridge in the twinkling of an +eye." + +So saying, he threw across the roaring torrent a film which looked as +frail as any spider's web. + +"It will bear you," said the Whisper: "do not be afraid!" + +So Little One ventured upon the gossamer bridge, which was to the eye +as delicate as mist; but to the feet as strong as adamant. She hushed +her fears, and walked over it with a stout heart. + +Now, she was on the borders of the Summer-land. Here were the turrets +and spires, the soft white clouds, the green fields, and sunny +streams. Instantly her long-lost wings appeared again; and she spread +them like a happy bird, and flew home. Oh, it was worth years of +longing and pain! She was held in tender embraces, and kissed lovingly +by well-remembered friends. To her great surprise and delight, her +father and mother were both there--they had arrived at the Summer-land +while seeking their Little One. + +"Now I know," said her father, "that my daughter was not dreaming when +she longed for her remembered home." + +Little One looked at her soiled dress; but the stains had disappeared; +and, most wonderful! all the jewels she had worn on her neck and +arms, and in her girdle, were there yet, burning with increased +brilliancy. Little One gazed again, and counted to see if any were +missing. Yes: two she had sold for bread were not there. It was the +jewels she had _given away_ which had come back in some mysterious +manner and were more resplendent than before. + +"Ah!" said she, with a beaming smile, "now I know what it means when +they say, 'All you give, you will carry with you.' It was delightful +to scatter my gems by the wayside; but I did not think they would all +be given back to me when I reached home!" + +Then, intwining arms with a bright sylphid, she flew with her over the +gardens in a trance of delight. + +"Here," said Little One, "is my own dear garden. I remember the border +and the paths right well; but it never bore such golden fruit, it +never glowed with such beautiful flowers." + +"Your fairy, the one you call Whisper, has taken care of it for your +sake," said the sister sylphid. "Do you know that those flowers, and +those trees with fruit like 'bonny beaten gold,' have been watered by +your tears, Little One? It is in this way they have attained their +matchless beauty and grace." + +"_My tears_, little sister?" + +"Yes, your tears. Every one you shed upon earth, your fairy most +carefully preserved; and see what wonders have been wrought!" + +"If I had known that," said Little One clapping her hands, "I would +have been _glad_ of all my troubles! I would have smiled through my +tears!" + +Now I know no more than I have told of this story of the Lost +Sylphid. I tell the tale as 'twas told to me; and I wish, with all my +heart, it were true. + + + + +THE CASTLE OF GEMS. + + +Once upon a time, though I cannot tell when, and in what country I do +not now remember, there lived a maiden as fair as a lily, as gentle as +a dewdrop, and as modest as a violet. A pure, sweet name she had,--it +was Blanche. + +She stood one evening, with her friend Victor, by the shore of a lake. +Never had the youth or maiden seen the moonlight so enchanting; but +they did not know + + "It was midsummer day, + When all the fairy people + From elf-land come away." + +Presently, while they gazed at the lake, which shone like liquid +emerald and sapphire and topaz, a boat, laden with strangely +beautiful beings, glided towards them across the waters. The fair +voyagers were clad in robes of misty blue with white mantles about +their waists, and on their heads wreaths of valley-lilies. + +They were all as fair as need be; but fairest of all was the +helms-woman, the queen of the fairies. Her face was soft and clear +like moonlight; and she wore a crown of nine large diamonds, which +refracted the evening rays, and formed nine lunar rainbows. + +The fairies were singing a roundelay; and, as the melody floated over +the waters, Victor and Blanche listened with throbbing hearts. Fairy +music has almost passed away from the earth; but those who hear it are +strangely moved, and have dreams of beautiful things which have been, +and may be again. + +"It makes me think of the days of long ago when there was no sin," +whispered Blanche. + +"It makes me long to be a hero," answered Victor with a sparkling eye. + +All the while the pearly boat was drifting toward the youth and +maiden; and, when it had touched the shore, the queen stepped out upon +the land as lightly as if she had been made entirely of dewdrops. + +"I am Fontana," said she; "and is this Blanche?" + +She laid her soft hand upon the maiden's shoulder; and Blanche thought +she would like to die then and there, so full was she of joy. + +"I have heard of thy good heart, my maiden: now what would please thee +most?" said the queen. + +Blanche bowed her head, and dared not speak. + +Queen Fontana smiled: when she smiled it was as if a soft cloud had +slid away from the moon, revealing a beautiful light. + +"Say pearls and diamonds," said Victor in her ear. + +"I don't know," whispered Blanche: "they are not the best things." + +"No," said the queen kindly: "pearls and diamonds are _not_ the best +things." + +Then Blanche knew that her whisper had been overheard, and she hid her +face in her hands for shame. But the queen only smiled down on her, +and, without speaking, dropped into the ground a little seed. Right at +the feet of Blanche, it fell; and, in a moment, two green leaves shot +upward, and between them a spotless lily, which hung its head with +modest grace. + +Victor gazed at the perfect flower in wonder, and, before he knew it, +said aloud, "Ah, how like Blanche!" + +The queen herself broke it from the stem, and gave it to the maiden, +saying,-- + +"Take it! it is my choicest gift. Till it fades (which will never be), +love will be thine; and, in time to come, it will have power to open +the strongest locks, and swing back the heaviest doors. + + "'Gates of brass cannot withstand + One touch of this magic wand.'" + +Blanche looked up to thank the queen; but no words came,--only tears. + +"I see a wish in thine eyes," said Fontana. + +"It is for Victor," faltered Blanche, at last: "he wishes to be rich +and great." + +The queen looked grave. + +"Shall I make him one of the great men of the earth, little Blanche? +Then he may one day go to the ends of the world, and forget thee." + +Blanche only smiled, and Victor's cheek flushed. + +"I shall be a great man," said he,--"perhaps a prince; but, where I +go, Blanche shall go: she will be my wife." + +"That is well," said the queen: "never forget Blanche, for her love +will be your dearest blessing." + +Then, removing from her girdle a pair of spectacles, she placed them +in the youth's hand. He drew back in surprise. "Does she take me for +an old man?" thought he. He had expected a casket of gems at least; +perhaps a crown. + +"Wait," said Fontana: "they are the eyes of Wisdom. When you have +learned their use, you will not despise my gift. Keep a pure heart, +and always remember Blanche. And now farewell!" + +So saying, she moved on to the boat, floating over the ground as +softly as a creeping mist. + +When Blanche awoke next morning, her first thought was, "Happy are the +maidens who have sweet dreams!" for she thought she had only been +wandering in a midsummer's night's dream; so, when she saw her lily in +the broken pitcher where she had placed it, great was her delight. But +a change had come over it during the night. It was no longer a common +lily,--its petals were large pearls, and the green leaves were now +green emeralds. This strange thing had happened to the flower, that it +might never fade. + +After this, people looked at Blanche, and said, "How is it? she grows +fairer every day!" and every one loved her; for the human heart has no +choice but to love what is good and gentle. + +As for Victor, he at first put on his spectacles with a scornful +smile: but, when he had worn them a moment, he found them very +wonderful things. When he looked through them, he could see people's +thoughts written out on their faces; he could easily decipher the fine +writing which you see traced on green leaves; and found there were +long stories written on pebbles in little black and gray dots. + +When he wore the spectacles, he looked so wise, that Blanche hardly +dared speak to him. She saw that one day he was to become a great man. + +At last Victor said he must leave his home, and sail across the seas. +Tears filled the eyes of Blanche; but the youth whispered,-- + +"I am going away to find a home for you and me: so adieu, dearest +Blanche!" + +Now Victor thought the ship in which he sailed moved very slowly; for +he longed to reach the land which he could see through his magic +spectacles: it was a beautiful kingdom, rich with mines of gold and +silver. + +When the ship touched shore, the streets were lined with people who +walked to and fro with sad faces. The king's daughter, a beautiful +young maiden, was very ill; and it was feared she must die. + +Victor asked one of the people if there was no hope. + +It so happened that this man was the greatest physician in the kingdom +and he answered,-- + +"Alas, there is no hope!" + +Then Victor went to a distant forest where he knew a healing spring +was to be found. Very few remembered it was there; and those who had +seen it did not know of its power to heal disease. + +Victor filled a crystal goblet with the precious water, and carried +it to the palace. The old king shook his head sadly, but consented to +let the attendants moisten the parched lips of the princess with the +water, as it could do no harm. Far from doing harm, it wrought a great +good; and, in time, the royal maiden was restored to health. + +Then, for gratitude, the king would have given his daughter to Victor +for a wife; but Victor remembered Blanche, and knew that no other +maiden must be bride of his. + +Not long after this, the king was lost overboard at sea during a +storm. Now the people must have a new ruler. They determined to choose +a wise and brave man; and, young as he was, no man could be found +braver and wiser than Victor: so the people elected him for their +king. Thus Fontana's gift of the eyes of Wisdom had made him truly +"one of the great men of earth." + +In her humble home, Blanche dreamed every night of Victor, and hoped +he would grow good, if he did not become great; and Victor remembered +Blanche, and knew that her love was his dearest blessing. + +"This old palace," thought he, "will never do for my beautiful bride." + +So he called together his people, and told them he must have a castle +of gems. Some of the walls were to be of rubies, some of emeralds, +some of pearls. There was to be any amount of beaten gold for doors +and pillars; and the ceilings were to be of milk-white opals, with a +rosy light which comes and goes. + +All was done as he desired; and, when the castle of gems was finished, +it would need a pen of jasponyx dipped in rainbows to describe it. + +Victor thought he would not have a guard of soldiers for his castle, +but would lock the four golden gates with a magic key, so that no one +could enter unless the gates should swing back of their own accord. + +When the castle of gems was just completed, and not a soul was in it, +Victor locked the gates with a magic key, and then dropped the key +into the ocean. + +"Now," thought he, "I have done a wise thing. None but the good and +true can enter my castle of gems. The gates will not swing open for +men with base thoughts or proud hearts!" + +Then he hid himself under the shadow of a tree, and watched the people +trying to enter. But they were proud men, and so the gates would not +open. + +King Victor laughed, and said to himself,-- + +"I have done a wise thing with my magic key. How safe I shall be in +my castle of gems!" + +So he stepped out of his hiding-place, and said to the people,-- + +"None but the good and true can get in." + +Then he tried to go in himself; but the gates would not move. + +The king bowed his head in shame, and walked back to his old palace. + +"Alas!" said he to himself, "wise and great as I am, I thought _I_ +could go in. I see it must be because I am filled with pride. Let me +hide my face; for what would Blanche say if she knew, that, because my +heart is proud, I am shut out of my own castle? I am not worthy that +she should love me; but I hope I shall learn of her to be humble and +good." + +The next day he sailed for the home of his childhood. When Blanche saw +him, she blushed, and cast down her eyes; but Victor knew they were +full of tears of joy. He held her hand, and whispered,-- + +"Will you go with me and be my bride, beautiful Blanche?" + +"I will go with you," she answered softly; and Victor's heart +rejoiced. + +All the while Blanche never dreamed that he was a great prince, and +that the men who came with him were his courtiers. + +When they reached Victor's kingdom, and the people shouted "Long live +the queen!" Blanche veiled her face, and trembled; for Victor +whispered in her ear that the shouts were for her. And, as the people +saw her beautiful face through her gossamer veil, they cried all the +more loudly,-- + +"Long live Queen Blanche! Thrice welcome, fair lady!" + +The sun was sinking in the west, and his rays fell with dazzling +splendor upon the castle of gems. When Blanche saw the silent, closed +castle and its golden gates, she remembered the words of Queen +Fontana, who had said that her lily should have power to "open the +strongest locks, and swing back the heaviest doors." + +Like one walking in a dream, she led Victor toward the resplendent +castle. She touched, with her lily, the lock which fastened one of the +gates. + + "Gates of gold could not withstand + One touch of that magic wand." + +In an instant, the hinges trembled; and the massive door swung open so +far, that forty people could walk in side by side. Then it slowly +closed, and locked itself without noise. + +One of the people who passed in was the king, whose heart was no +longer proud. The others, who had entered unwittingly, could not speak +for wonder. Some of them were poor, and some were lame or blind; but +all were good and true. + +At the rising of the moon a wonderful thing came to pass. The people +entered the castle of gems, and became beautiful. This was through the +power of the magic lily. + +Now there were no more crooked backs and lame feet and sightless eyes; +and the king looked at these people, who were beautiful as well as +good, and declared he would have them live in the castle; and the +gentlemen should be knights; and the ladies, maids of honor. + +To this day Victor and Blanche rule the kingdom; and such is the charm +of the lily,--so like the pure heart of the queen,--that the people +are becoming gentle and good. + +Until Queen Fontana shall call for the magic spectacles and the lily +of pearl, it is believed that Victor and Blanche will live in the +castle of gems, though the time should be a hundred years. + + + + +THE ELF OF LIGHT. + +A NORSE TALE. + + +In the strange island of Iceland, thrown up, by fire, from the depths +of the sea, there once lived a lad who worshipped the god Odin, and +was taught from two absurd books called the Eddas. He wished to fight +and die on a battle-field, so that his soul might cross a +rainbow-bridge, and dwell in the beautiful halls of Valhalla. +There--so the Eddas say--are the chosen heroes, who are forever +fighting all day, and feasting all night. + +Thus, instead of a Bible, young Thule studied wild fairy-tales; yet, +for all his heathenish training, he had some noble traits, which a +Christian lad might imitate. + +He lived with his widowed mother at the edge of a forest. The snow +piled itself in drifts, and the wind howled through the trees, and +crept in at the windows; for the cottage was old, and a blind +hurricane might almost have mistaken it for a heap of brushwood. But +Thule was quite as happy as if the hut had been a palace. He loved the +winter-beauty of his mother's face, and the silvery hair half hidden +under her black cap. All the fire they burned was made of the dry +sticks he gathered in the forest, and more than half the money they +used was earned by his small hands. + +In one of the ice-months of the year, when the weather was sharper +than a serpent's tooth, Thule came home from a hard day's work; and, +the chillier he grew, the more he whistled to keep up a brave heart. +Looking at the horizon before him, he saw the cold glare which we call +Northern Lights, but which he knew to be the flickering of helmets and +shields and spears. + +"The warlike maidens are out to-night," thought the boy: "they are +going to the battle-fields to decide who is worthy to be slain. How I +love to see the sky lighted up with the flash of their armor! Odin, +grant I may one day be a hero, and walk over the bridge of a rainbow!" + +Then Thule went to his whistling again; but, just as he struck into +the forest where the deep shadows lay, he heard a faint moan, which +sounded like a human voice, or might have been a sudden gust of wind +in a hollow tree. + +"Perchance it is some poor creature even colder than I," thought the +boy: "I hope not a _troll_!" + +Hurrying to the spot whence the sound came, he found an ugly, +long-nosed dwarf lying on the ground, nearly perishing with cold. It +was growing late, and the boy himself was benumbed; but he went +briskly to work, chafing the hands and face of the stranger, even +taking off his own blue jacket to wrap it about the dwarf's neck. + +"Poor old soul, you shall not die of cold!" said he; then, helping him +to rise, he added cheerily, "We will go to my mother's cottage, and +have a warm supper of oat-cakes and herrings; and our fire of dry +boughs will do you good." + +The noble boy knew there was barely supper enough for two, but did not +mind going hungry to bed for charity's sake. In the ear of his heart, +he heard the words of his mother:-- + +"Never fear starving, my son, but freely share your last loaf with the +needy." + +They walked through the forest, the old man leaning heavily on the +youth's shoulder. + +"Why should you befriend a poor wretch who cannot repay you?" whined +the dwarf in a hollow voice which startled Thule, it was so like the +echo sent back by a mountain or a rock. + +"I do not ask or wish to be repaid," was the reply. "Don't you know +what the proverb says? 'Do good, and throw it into the sea; if the +fishes don't know it, _Odin_ will!'" + +"Yes: Odin shall know it, never fear," answered the dwarf; "but, as I +happen to be informed that your tea-table is not quite large enough +for three, I think I will decline your invitation to supper. Really, +my lad," he continued, "it would delight me to do you a little favor; +for, though I am only a poor dwarf, I know how to be grateful. By the +way, have you seen such a thing hereabouts as a green alder-tree?" + +"A green alder-tree in winter-time!" cried Thule. + +"A curious thing, indeed," said the dwarf; "but I chanced to see one +the other night in my rambles. Ah! look, here it is right before your +eyes." + +All the other forest-trees were dry and hard, their hearts frozen +within them; but this tree was alive, hidden behind a clump of firs. +When Thule began to dig about its roots, it seemed to come out of the +ground of its own free will, and to lie over his shoulders as if it +would caress him. + +"Take home the little tree, and plant it before your door, my lad." + +The youth turned to thank the stranger; but he had vanished. Then +Thule ran home with all speed to tell his mother of the little old man +who had faded from his sight like a wreath of smoke. + +"Now I wonder what it is you have seen," said the good woman, raising +her hands in surprise. "Was he brown, my son, with a long nose?" + +"As brown as a nut, mother, with no end of nose." + +"Just as I supposed, my child! That dwarf is a wonderful +creature,--one of the night-elves, a race gifted with great +understanding. Know, my son, that he carves runes upon stones; and he +no doubt assisted in making Thor's hammer, that terrible instrument +which can crush the skull of a giant." + +"One thing I observed," said the boy: "he blinked at that flashing in +the sky, which people call Northern Lights; he had to shade his eyes +with his funny little hand." + +"Did he, indeed? Poor Elf! Light is painful to his race; and I have +even heard that a stroke of sunshine is able to turn them into +stones. I am almost afraid of this little tree," added the good mother +musingly. "You know what we read in the holy Eddas: Both the alder and +the ash trees should be held sacred; for Odin formed man from the ash, +and woman from the alder. Nevertheless, the night-elf could not have +meant to do you a mischief. Let us plant the tree as he directed." + +"What, in the frozen ground, under the snow?" + +But it now, for the first time, appeared that there was a spot of +earth near the south window, which must have been waiting for the +tree, since it was as soft and warm as if the sun had been shining on +it all the year. Here they planted the alder; and Thule brought water, +and moistened the roots. + +Next morning the tree seemed to have grown a foot higher; and by +daylight its leaves showed a silver lining. + +"May Odin favor my pretty alder!" said Thule; "nor let the frost pinch +it, nor the winds blacken its green buds!" + +Thule went into the woods again; and, as he was whistling at his work, +he happened to look down, and there, on the ground, at his feet, lay a +purse, well lined with gold. He counted the pieces: fifty, all bright +and new. + +"I will go to the town," thought the boy, shaking his head and sighing +(for the gold was very tempting), "I will go to the town, and ask who +has lost a purse with fifty pieces of precious gold. Ah, me! I wish I +could keep it! then we should swim in herrings and oil; and who knows +but, for once in my life, I might even get a taste of venison?" + +But next moment he loosened his greedy clutch at the purse. "No matter +how bravely it shines! it is not _my_ gold; and it is too heavy for +me to carry. Stolen money is worse than a mill-stone about one's neck, +so my mother says." + +"Keep the purse, little boy," said a sweet voice close by his elbow. +He turned, and saw a beautiful child, as radiant as a sunbeam, and +clad in garments of delicate and transparent texture. + +"I will be your friend, little boy. That purse was dropped by a lady +who wears a fur cloak and long veil. If she asks for her treasure, I +can say it fell into a hole in the ground. Everybody believes me: +never fear!" + +"Poor misguided angel!" said the boy, amazed by her wondrous beauty no +less than by her apparent want of truth. "You are, indeed, a lovely +little tempter; but I have a dear mother at home, and I love her +better than a million pieces of gold. I must go to the town, and seek +out this lady you mention, who wears a fur cloak and long veil." + +"Nay, if you will be so stupid," said the shining child, "why, I will +even go with you, and show you the way." + +So, gliding gracefully before the bewildered youth, she led him out of +the forest, into the most crowded part of the city, up to the door of +a splendid mansion; but, when Thule turned his head only an instant, +she was gone, and no trace of her was to be seen: she seemed to have +melted into sunshine. + +The lady of the house received the purse with thanks, and would gladly +have given Thule a piece of the gold; but, much as the boy longed for +it, he put it aside, saying, "No, madam: my mother assures me I must +be honest without the hope of reward. She would not like me to take +wages for not being a thief!" + +The next morning the alder-tree had grown another foot; and Thule and +his mother watched the growing leaves, and touched them with reverent +fingers. They were certainly of a tender green, lined with shining +silver. + +"May Odin favor my pretty alder!" said Thule; "nor let the frost pinch +it, nor the winds blacken its green buds!" + +Then Thule kissed his mother, and trudged off to the forest as usual. +But he seemed doomed to adventures; for this time he was met by three +armed men, who were roaming the country as if seeking something. + +"Prithee, little urchin," said one of the men, "can you tell us what +has become of a young alder-tree, whose green leaves are lined with +silver?" + +"I dug up an alder-bush, kind sirs," replied the boy, trembling, and +remembering that his mother had said she was almost afraid of that +little tree. + +"There are many alder-bushes," said another of the men gruffly; "but +only one is green at this time of year, and has silver-lined leaves. +It was placed here by command of the giant Loki, and no one was to +touch it under pain of death; for, when his mountain-garden should be +laid out in the spring, the tree was to be uprooted, and planted +therein." + +Thule grew almost as stiff and white as if a frost-giant had suddenly +breathed on him. He knew that Loki was a pitiless god, feared by all, +and beloved by none,--a god who had an especial grudge against the +whole human race. + +"I will hold my peace," thought Thule. "I will never confess that the +tree I carried away has silver-lined leaves. I will hasten home, pluck +up the bush, and burn it: then who will be the wiser?" + +But Thule, in spite of his trembling, could not forget his good +mother's counsel:-- + +"Your words, my boy, let them be truth, and nothing but truth, though +a sword should be swinging over your head." + +Then, as soon as his voice returned to him, he confessed that the tree +he had removed was really just such an one as the men described, and +begged for mercy, because, as he said, he had committed the sin +ignorantly, not knowing the mandate of the terrible giant. + +But the men bade Thule lead them to his mother's house, and point out +his stolen treasure; declaring that they could show no mercy; for, +when Loki had made a decree, no man should alter it by one jot or one +tittle. + +"Oh!" thought the unfortunate boy, wringing his hands, and trembling +till the woollen tassel on his cap danced a gallopade, "oh, if the +cruel night-elf, who led me into this mischief, would only come +forward now, and help me out of it! But, alas, it is of no avail to +invoke him; for it is now broad daylight, and the sun would strike him +into a stone image in a twinkling." + +When Thule, followed by the messengers of Loki, had reached the door +of his cottage, he found his gray-haired mother sprinkling the roots +of the beautiful alder, and fondling its leaves with innocent +pleasure. At sight of the armed men, she started back in affright. + +"It is indeed the giant's tree," said the men to Thule. "Pluck it up, +and follow us with it to Loki's castle on the mountain." + +"To Loki's castle!" shrieked the wretched mother. "Then he must pass +a frightful wilderness, be assailed by the frost-giants; and, if there +be any breath left in him, Loki will dash it out at a glance! Have +mercy on a poor old mother, O good soldiers!" + +The unhappy boy touched the tree, and it came out of the ground of its +own free will; and, in a trice, stood on its feet, shook out its +branches into arms, and in another moment was no longer a tree, but a +child, with a beauty as dazzling as sunshine. + +"Unfortunate men!" said she, in a voice whose angriest tones were +sweeter than the music of an AEolian harp, "unfortunate are you in +being the servants of Loki! Go, tell your cruel master that the +schemes he has plotted against me and mine have all failed: my +enchantment is over forever. Yonder boy," said she, pointing to little +Thule, "has saved me. I was, and still remain, an elf of light, as +playful and harmless as sunshine. The merciless Loki, enraged at the +love I bear the children of men, changed me to a little alder-tree, +which is the emblem of girlhood. But he had no power to keep me in +that form forever. He was obliged to make a condition, and he made the +hardest one that his artful mind could invent: 'Since you love mortals +so dearly,' said he, 'no one but a mortal shall free you from your +imprisonment. You shall remain a tree till a good child shall touch +you,--a child who is generous enough to SHARE HIS LAST LOAF WITH A +STRANGER, honest enough to GIVE BACK A REWARD FOR HIS HONESTY, brave +enough to SPEAK THE TRUTH WHEN A LIE WOULD HAVE SAVED HIS LIFE. Long +shall you wait for such a deliverer!' + +"Now how amazed will Loki be when he learns that this little boy has +been tempted in all these particulars, yet proves true. My poor +soldiers, you may return whence you came, for the alder-tree will +never rustle its silver leaves in the mountain-garden of Loki." + +Then the men disappeared, not sorry that the good boy had escaped his +threatened doom. + +Thule, looking at the beautiful elf so lately a tree, could hardly +trust his own eyes; and I fancy that many a boy, even at the present +day, would have felt rather bewildered under the circumstances. + +"Shining child!" said he: "you look vastly like the wonderful little +being who led me out of the forest yesterday." + +"That may well be," replied the elf of light; "for she is my sister. +The brown dwarf who pointed out to you the alder-tree is also an +excellent friend of mine, though, strange to say, I have never seen +him. We love to aid each other in all possible ways; yet we can never +meet, for there is a fatality in my eyes which would strike him dead. +He had heard of Thule, the little woodcutter who was called so brave +and generous and true. He tried you, you see; and so did my frolicsome +sister, who was fairly ablaze with delight when she found you could +not be tempted to steal!" + +Thule's mother had stood all the while on the threshold, overawed and +dumb. Now she came forward, and said,-- + +"I am prouder to-day than I should be if my son had slain ten men on +the battle-field!" + +The beautiful elf of light, penetrated with gratitude and admiration, +remained Thule's fast friend as long as he lived. She gave the lad +and his mother an excellent home, and made them happy all the days of +their lives. + + + + +THE PRINCESS HILDA. + + +Princess Hildegarde sat at an open window, looking out upon her garden +of flowers. She was very beautiful, with a face as fair and sweet as a +rose. Not far off sat, watching her, her young cousin Zora, with a +frown on her brow. + +There was bitter hatred in Zora's heart because Hildegarde was rich +and she was poor; because Hildegarde would, in time, be a queen, and +she one of her subjects. Moreover, Hildegarde was so beautiful and +good that the fame of her loveliness had spread far and wide; and it +was for her beauty that Zora hated her more than for any thing else. + +In childhood Zora had been very fair; and the courtiers had petted +her, and pronounced her even fairer than the princess; but her beauty +had never meant any thing but bright eyes and cherry cheeks: so it +could not last. If she had only cherished pure thoughts and kind +wishes, she might still have been as lovely as Hilda; but who does not +know that evil feelings write themselves on the face? + +Jealousy had pulled her mouth down at the corners; deceit had given it +a foolish smirk; spite had plowed an ugly frown in her brow; while she +had tried so many arts to make her rich brown skin as delicately white +as Hilda's, that it was changed to the tint of chrome yellow. + +It was said in those days, that Zora was in the power of wicked +fairies, who twisted her features into the shape that pleased them +best. + +At any rate, how the amiable Princess Hilda was to blame for all +these deformities it would be hard to say; and she little dreamed of +the malice in her cousin's heart. + +But, while Hilda was looking out of the window, a noble knight passed +that way; and so delighted was he with the rare sweetness of her face, +that he forgot himself, and paused a moment to gaze at her. The +princess blushed, and let fall the silken curtain; but Zora had seen +the knight, and knew he was the royal Prince Reginald. She ground her +teeth in rage; for she had determined that the prince should never see +her beautiful cousin. + +"They shall not meet," said she to herself: "no, not if there are bad +fairies enough to prevent it." + +But, when the princess looked up, Zora was smiling very sweetly. Who +could have dreamed that she was thinking of nothing but how to ruin +the peace of her gentle cousin? + +Zora could hardly wait for nightfall, so eager was she to do her +wicked work. When it was dark, and all was quiet, she stole out of the +castle, wearing a black mantle which hid her face. + +"Now," thought she, "no one can recognize me, and I will seek the +fairy Gerula." + +You must know that Gerula was one of the most wicked and hideous +sprites that ever existed. She dwelt in a cave far from the abodes of +men. It was hidden by huge trees through which the wind never ceased +howling. At evening owls hooted overhead, and many creeping things +wound their length along the ground. The more toads and snakes she +could see about her, the better was she pleased; for fairies, as well +as mortals, are attracted by what is akin to themselves. + +She was descended from a race called kobolds or goblins; and she loved +all the metals which lie under the earth as well as the living things +which crawl up out of its bosom. + +So acute were her ears, that she heard Zora's steps from a great +distance. She brushed back her elf-locks, and gave a low grunt like +some wild beast. It pleased her that the Lady Zora should find need of +her counsel; but, when Zora had reached the cave, the cunning fairy +pretended to be sleeping, and started up in seeming surprise. + +"What brings a body here at this time of night?" said she. + +"I am Lady Zora. I have come, sweet fairy, to beg a favor. The +Princess Hilda is hateful to me: work one of your charms on her, and +let me see her face no more." + +The old fairy pricked up her ears and said to herself, "Ha! ha! I +will have nice sport out o' this!" then said aloud, "Say, what harm +has the princess done to my rosebud, my lily, my pride?" + +Zora's eyes flashed. "Prince Reginald has seen her; and to see her is +to love her. My heart is set on wedding Prince Reginald. Take her out +of his way!" + +Just then a broad gleam of moonlight fell on the treacherous maiden. +It was strange how much she looked like the cruel fairy; and Gerula +gazed on her with delight. + +"My beautiful viper!" said she, using the sweetest pet-name she could +think of, "I will do your bidding. But first say what you will give me +if I put Hildegarde out of your way." + +Then she chuckled, and rubbed her hands in great glee. Zora started +back in alarm. + +"I did not know you sold your charms for gold; but I would give you +half my fortune if need be, any thing, to be rid of Hilda." + +The fairy chuckled again. "Just the damsel for me," thought she. + +"I will give you a diamond necklace," said Zora: "it is worth a small +kingdom, and was given me by my cousin Hilda. You can surely ask no +more?" + +"Diamonds!" said the goblin, snapping her fingers. "What think you I +care for them? Do I not tire of stooping to pick them up? for they are +given me by my cousins, the gnomes, any day. No diamonds for me! Keep +them and your gold. I ask but one thing, my dear." + +Here she spoke in low hissing tones, more terrible than her loudest +croakings. + +"Promise me, if you do not marry Prince Reginald, you will let me +change you into a charming green snake." + +"Alas!" cried Zora, turning pale, "who ever heard of such a cruel +request?" + +"Cruel, am I?" said the goblin in delight. "Oh, I must seem cruel to +one who is so gentle and lovely as Hilda!" + +"Alas," cried Zora, "I may fail to win Prince Reginald." + +"All the better," chuckled the fairy. "When you become a snake, you +and I shall enjoy each other's society, I assure you." + +Zora shuddered. + +"But it's all one to me," added the goblin, beginning to yawn. "On the +whole, I think you may as well go home." + +Zora wrung her hands, and groaned. + +"Yes," said the gnome: "go back to the castle. Ugh! I would sooner +trust one of my winking owls to do a daring deed than you! Fie upon +you! Creep back to your bed, and let Hilda marry the prince: a lovely +pair they will make. Off with you, for I have to make up my sleep I +have lost." + +But Zora was thinking. + +"I am silly indeed!" she said to herself. "Why do I fear that I shall +not win the love of Prince Reginald? Only Hilda stands in my way." +Then she said aloud,-- + +"Lovely being! sweetest of all the race! Great as is my horror, I will +consent to your will." + +Just then was heard a crackling in the dry leaves. + +"Only a snake," said the goblin. Zora trembled. + +"Will you promise me that Hilda will never trouble me again?" + +"I promise," said the goblin, with one of her merriest laughs, as +loud and hoarse as the song of a frog. + +Just then a sigh was heard not far from the place where Zora stood. +"There is some one here: we are watched," she whispered. But Gerula +thought it the howling of the wind; for she was busily musing over the +charm she was about to obtain of her cousins, the gnomes, and her eyes +and ears were not as sharp as usual. + +She took from the ground her crooked staff. + +"Hush," said she; "if the sky were to fall on your head, you are not +to speak; for now begins the charm." + +Then she drew a circle three times on the ground, with her staff, and +said in low tones,-- + + "Hither, ye cousins, that come at my call: + The princess is young and fair; + Mix me a charm that shall bring her to woe + Spin me your vilest snare." + +A mist arose, in which Zora could see dim figures, one after another. +Zora held her breath. Gerula muttered again in low tones,-- + + "Hilda is gentle, and dreams of no guile; + The little gnomes sit and weep; + 'Make her,--if _must_ be,--a snowy wee lamb, + In the fold with her father's sheep.'" + +Zora clapped her hands in delight. But just then, a faint sound was +heard, as of some one talking between the teeth. Then Zora spoke, and +the charm was broken. She did not intend to speak; but asked, "What +noise was that?" before she thought. + +"You have broken the charm," said the fairy. "The soft-hearted gnomes +are unwilling to punish Hilda; but I hoped, by my craft, I could force +them to keep her a lamb forever; or, at most, to let her grow to a +sheep, and die by the knife. + +"I will now weave a new charm; but I fear me they will repent; and +Hilda will not be got out of the way, after all. Not a word more, I +warn you." + +So saying, the goblin made another circle three times, on the ground, +and again muttered,-- + + "How long is fair Hilda a snowy wee lamb? + The little gnomes cry, 'We fear + Till comes a brave lion so tender and true, + She lives by his side a year.'" + +Zora clapped her hands again. "That is well," said she, "for never was +a lion seen who could let a little helpless lamb pass his way without +tearing it in pieces." + +"True," said the gnome, well pleased, "it has worked well. Hilda will +never trouble you again: so creep home softly, and go to your rest: +dream of bats and creeping snakes; and to-morrow, at sunrise, ask +your cousin to walk with you in the park. Now adieu!" + +"Adieu, sweetest and best of fairies!" said Zora, drawing her silken +mantle closely about her face. As she left the hideous cave, snakes +hissed after her, and a bat flew in her face; but she had sold herself +to evil, and walked on without fear of the creatures she so strongly +resembled. + +Next morning, at the first peep of the sun, she cried, "Awake, dearest +Hilda, joy of my life, and walk with me in the park. I have lost my +diamond necklace; and last night I dreamed it was lying in the grass." + +So Princess Hildegarde opened her eyes, and hastened to follow her +cousin; for her heart was quickly moved to any act of kindness. + +"What a fine flock of sheep!" cried Hilda, as they were walking in +the park. "Such innocent"---- + +She would have said more, but the words on her tongue were suddenly +changed to tender bleatings; and even as Zora stood looking at her, +she crouched down on all fours, dwindled in size, was enveloped in +white fleece, and became a dumb lamb. + +Overwhelmed with horror and surprise, she raised her pleading, tearful +eyes to the face of her cousin. But Zora gave a mocking laugh, and +said, pointing her finger at her,-- + +"Who now is the heir of the throne? Will they set the royal crown on a +sheep's head, think you? Bravo, sweet creature! You may stand now +between me and Prince Reginald as much as you please. It's all my +work. I tell you once for all, I hate you, Hildegarde." + +Was this Zora's return for her cousin's love? The princess would fain +have expressed her grief and amazement. + +"Pray don't try to talk, my bonny wee thing! It is not one of your +gifts, at present. Your voice has ceased to be musical. I can sing now +as well as you. Go to nibbling grass, deary, and a long life to you!" + +Then the treacherous Zora turned on her heel, and left her poor cousin +to her mute despair. + +A search was made far and wide for the missing princess. Forests were +hunted, rivers were dragged; but without avail. Deep gloom fell on the +people, and the queen nearly died of sorrow. They all believed Hilda +dead, all but Zora, who knew too well her cruel fate. + +Then Zora was treated like the king's daughter. Wherever she went, +there were servants to follow her; yet none loved her, and behind her +back they made wry faces, and said she looked like one who was +tormented by evil fairies. + +But, alas for Zora, nothing more was seen of Prince Reginald. She +watched the windows day after day, hoping to see him ride by on his +coal-black steed; but he never came. Then she grew crosser than ever, +and the frown on her brow ploughed deeper still. She dreamed every +night of horrible goblins and slender green snakes. + +All the while, poor Hildegarde roamed about the park. The other lambs +were content to nip the sweet grass, and frisk in the sun; but the +princess remembered something better, for her soul did not sleep. + +The king himself, in his walks, was struck with the beauty of the +lamb; its fleece was far softer, finer, and whiter than was common. +He said to his chief shepherd, "Watch well yonder snow-white lamb, and +give it particular care." + +For there was something in its soft dark eyes, as they were raised to +his face, which stirred the king's heart, though he knew not why. + +One day the city was thrown into a great tumult. A lion had been seen +in the thicket which bordered the park. The huntsmen, hearing of it, +stole out privately to waylay him in a snare. He was caught alive by +the king's favorite huntsman. It was agreed that such a fine lion had +never been seen before; and the king ordered a strong iron cage for +the beast, and made his favorite huntsman his keeper. + +Now the cage was in the midst of the park; and such was the terror of +the sheep and deer, that none of them went near it. + +"I will go," thought poor Hildegarde; "let the lion tear me in +pieces. Sooner would I perish, than live on, a poor wee lamb all my +days." + +So she went up to the cage, though with a faint heart; but the lion +put his paw out of the bars, and stroked her face, as if he would bid +her welcome. The keeper reported the fact with great surprise. + +It may be that the beautiful brown eyes of the lamb tamed the fierce +spirit of the lion; for they were human eyes, full of Hildegarde's own +soul. Be that as it may, the lamb went every day to the cage, till the +lion learned to watch for her, and gave a low growl of joy when he saw +her coming. At last the keeper ventured to drop her carefully into the +cage. The lion was beside himself with joy; and, after that, the lamb +was placed in the cage every morning, and only taken out at night. + +Then the king invited all the noblemen into his park, to see the +strange sight of a lion and a lamb living together in peace. And all +the while Hildegarde loved her shaggy companion, and asked herself +every day how it could be that a lion should have such speaking eyes +and such a tender heart. But she almost believed that he was a human +being, shut up, like herself, in a cruel disguise. + +At last, when a whole year had gone by, the time came for Hilda to be +disenchanted; for the good little gnomes had declared that if she +could live for a twelvemonth in peace with a lion, the charm would +then be at an end. + +Hilda did not know this; but awoke at sunrise, and, going to drink, +saw the image of her old self in the fountain; and faint voices +repeated in chorus these lines:-- + + "Thrice welcome, sweet Hilda! the little gnomes say + At sunrise their charms shall end; + So go to the lion, and open the cage; + The prince is your own true friend." + +This was so sudden and unexpected that the happy Hilda could hardly +believe her senses. She gazed at her jewelled fingers; she touched her +velvet robe. "It is Hildegarde," said she dreamily; "where has she +stayed so long?" + +She went to the cage; and, finding the key hanging on the outside, +would fain have freed the poor lion, but thought of the terror it +would cause the sheep and deer, and dared not do it. + +She put her soft white arms within the bars, saying,-- + +"You have been a true friend to the little white lamb. She has found +her tongue again, and can say so. Kind old lion, gentle prisoner, +Hildegarde will not forget you." + +The noble beast looked at the disenchanted princess, and the next +instant was changed to his true form; and, in place of a tawny lion, +it was the brave Prince Reginald. Hilda blushed with joyful surprise, +and would have taken down the key to unlock the cage, but the prince +said,-- + +"Loveliest Hildegarde, will you be my bride? Speak before you unlock +the cage; for, if you say nay, Reginald must again become a dumb +beast, and, as he has been for a year, so will he be for the rest of +his days." + +Hildegarde cast down her eyes, and answered, "If so be the lion and +the lamb could live side by side for a year, may not Reginald and +Hilda dwell together in peace?" + +"Then," said the joyful Prince Reginald, "I pray thee unlock the +cage." + +Now, as they walked together in the park, the prince told Hildegarde +that he had loved her for a twelvemonth and a day. + +He described Zora's visit to the cruel goblin. He said that he himself +had overheard the two talking together, had ground his teeth, and +sighed. Then the gnomes, seeing his grief, had come asking him if he +would be changed for a year, and maybe for life, into a lion; and for +Hildegarde's sake he had gladly consented. + +Hearing all these things, the grateful princess wept, and said,-- + +"Now I know that Prince Reginald is my own true friend." + +The prince led Hilda to the palace, and presented her to the king and +queen. Great was the wonder, and loud the rejoicing throughout the +land. + +The treacherous Zora was seen no more, but was changed into a slender +green snake; and the king said she deserved her fate; "for, mark +you," cried he, "there is no crime worse than to play false to those +whom we pretend to love." + +But Prince Reginald and Hildegarde were married, and lived in peace +all the rest of their lives. + + + + +GOLDILOCKS. + + + "A king lived long ago, + In the morning of the world," + +who had two children, Despard and Goldilocks. They were twin brother +and sister, but no more alike than a queen-lily and a nightshade, a +raven and a dove. + +Goldilocks was a bright young damsel, with hair like fine threads of +gold, and a face so radiant that people questioned if the blood in her +veins might not be liquid sunshine. Her eyes were as soft as violets; +and her laugh was like the music of a spring robin. + +Despard, on the other hand, was as melancholy as an owl. His raven +hair cast gloomy shadows, and his mournful eyes pierced you with a +sudden sorrow. He was too low-spirited to chase butterflies, weave +daisy-chains, and dance with Goldilocks among the flowers. He liked +better to play at a mimic funeral, and deck himself as chief mourner, +in a friar's robe with sable plumes. He could never understand why +laughing Goldilocks should object to making believe die, and be buried +in the large jewel-coffer, which stood for a tomb. + +He always said that, if he lived to be a man, he should grow all the +more wretched, and creep over the earth like a great black cloud. When +Despard spoke so hopelessly, Goldilocks paused in her song or her +play, and stealthily brushed a rare tear from her eye. She was afraid +her brother's words might prove true. + +These children lived in what is called the Golden Age, when the +rivers flowed with milk and wine, and yellow honey dripped from +oak-trees. Their childhood would probably have lasted forever; but the +Silver Age came on, and every thing was changed. Then, it was +sometimes too warm, and sometimes too cold. People began to live in +caves, and weave houses of twigs. The king, their father, died, and +went, so it was said, to the "Isles of the Blessed." + +The children were shipwrecked upon a foreign shore, all because of a +sudden swell of the ocean. Here they were desolate and homesick. The +strange people among whom they had fallen did not know they were the +children of a king. No one was left to care for them but their old +nurse, named Sibyl. + +This aged woman was growing lame, and her hair was gray; yet she loved +the twins, and would spin all the day long, to buy black bread for +them, and now and then a little choice fruit. + +"Alas," she sighed, "alas, for the Golden Age, when the forests had +never been robbed, when oxen were not called to draw the plough, and +the beautiful earth laughed, and tossed up fruit and flowers without +waiting to be asked!" + +The frocks that Sibyl made for Goldilocks were coarse; but on fair +spring days she took from the chest a delicate, rosy robe, embroidered +with gold, and smiled to see how it adorned the child. + +But as for Despard, she had no hope that he would ever look well in +any thing. She would part Goldilocks' wonderful hair, and say,-- + +"Old Sibyl knows who is her love; she knows who would be glad to give +her pomegranates and grapes, when she is too old to spin, and too weak +to sit up." + +Little Goldilocks would laughingly reply,-- + +"And I know, too: when I am a woman I shall weave a net of my hair, +and fish up all the gold that has sunk to the beds of the rivers. Then +I know who will have a set of hard gold teeth, and a silver +rocking-chair." + +"Thou art lovely enough to be a goddess, little Goldilocks. And what +wilt thou do with the rest of the gold?" + +"Oh, Despard shall have all he can carry; for Despard is good, let +people say what they may. And I will have a crown made for him, with +diamonds set in it as plenty as plums in a pudding." + +"Listen, my children," said the old Sibyl, sadly: "there will be no +one to give me grapes and pomegranates when I am faint and weak. I can +read by the stars that you are soon to go on a pilgrimage, and leave +your old nurse behind. You may well weep, my good little boy: there is +to be no rest for your feet till you have travelled over the whole +world, from north to south." + +Despard groaned aloud; but Goldilocks clapped her hands and laughed. +"Oh, let us start to-night," she cried. + +"When the sun-god has made twelve journeys in his winged boat," sighed +Sibyl, "and when the young moon has arisen out of the ocean, then you +may go." + +And, at the appointed time, the faithful nurse, with many tears, +prepared her foster-children for their long journey. She took from a +worm-eaten coffer some family heirlooms, which had been lying since +the days of the Golden Age, enveloped in rose-leaves and gold paper. + +She placed in the hand of Despard a dagger with a jewelled hilt, a +quiver of poisoned arrows, and a glittering sword, with a blade +sharper than a serpent's tooth. + +But to Goldilocks she gave a flask of smooth, fragrant oil, a vase of +crystal-bright water, and a fan made of the feathers of the beautiful +bird of Paradise. + +Kissing the little pilgrims, she said,-- + +"These gifts have been saved for you these many years: use them as an +inward voice shall whisper you: I give you my blessing. The gods +attend you! Farewell." + +The children at first walked on sorrowfully; but soon the gay spirits +of Goldilocks rebounded, and she waltzed hither and thither, like a +morsel of thistle-down. + +"See, brother," said she, "we almost fly! What a glorious thing it is +to go on a pilgrimage! I am glad the beautiful Silver Age has come, +and Jupiter has given us leave to take a peep at the world!" + +"All very well for you to say," moaned Despard; "you flit about as if +you had wings on your feet; while, as for me, it is true I move with +equal speed, but so painfully that I wonder my footprints are not +stained with blood." + +Soon the children observed, not far off, a party of youths rowing on +the bosom of a lake. They sat in a rocking, unsteady little bark, but +were in gay spirits, blowing bubbles, watching idle clouds, and +throwing up empty shouts to be caught up and echoed by the hills. + +"I wish we had not seen these happy people," sighed Despard; "for, if +you can believe me, sister, I really feel as if I must pelt them with +my arrows." + +So saying, little Despard began to fire his poisonous darts at random. + +"Why, brother," cried Goldilocks, in alarm, "are you possessed by the +furies? Take care how you aim, or you will surely do mischief." + +Even as she spoke, several of the gay youths dropped to the bottom of +the boat, apparently wounded. Their companions pushed for the shore; +and Goldilocks almost flew, to pour into the red wounds her brother +had made the smooth healing oil from her flask. + +"Poor dears," said she, pitying their pain, "I have done my best; and, +see! these ugly gashes are almost healed. I cannot promise you, +though, that they will not leave scars." + +The youths thanked the sweet girl, and assured her it was almost a +pleasure to be wounded, if one might be nursed by such gentle hands as +hers. But as for Despard, it was hardly strange that they should look +upon the poor boy as a wicked little highwayman; or, at best, a saucy, +careless fellow. + +Some of the older youths, however, patted him on the shoulder, and +said, "For your sweet sister's sake we can even endure your pranks." + +"Do not despise me," said the boy, sadly; "for as I am moved, so must +I do. Not for the whole world would I fire a poisonous arrow, if the +mighty Jove did not compel me." + +As they walked on, Despard, against his will, flung into the air a +quantity of winged torments, which he found stowed away in his wallet, +such as gnats, wasps, and flies. + +"There, now," said sweet Goldilocks, ready to weep, "why could you not +look before you, and see those pretty children playing yonder in that +fragrant meadow?" + +"I saw them," said Despard; "but what good did that do?" + +"O brother, I wish the Golden Age would come again, and then you +would cease scattering mischief and trouble." + +The little ones, suddenly stopped in their play by the army of +insects, ran hither and thither over the meadow, screaming with pain. +But Goldilocks appeared in the midst of them, with her shining hair, +violet eyes, and laugh like the music of a spring robin. + +"Come to me," said she; "let me kiss away the stings." + +In a very short space the children were soothed, and had forgotten +their trouble. Then they threw their little arms about Goldilocks' +neck, and begged her to stay and play with them. + +"Sweet children, it is my mission,--so the stars say,--to travel all +over this world, from north to south. But, for all that, I will frolic +with you till the sun sets." + +"Will the sad boy come too?" asked the children. + +Goldilocks shook her bright curls. "He is planting a garden," said +she; "no need to ask him; he hears nothing while he is at play, and +his games are as solemn as midnight." + +The children made believe that the beautiful Goldilocks, in her +rose-colored dress, with her beaming hair and flying feet, was a great +butterfly, which they were trying to catch. Now here, now there, the +glowing butterfly flitted from flower to flower, leading her followers +a merry chase. Every child thought to seize and hold her, for a kiss. +She laughed; and the breezes danced with her hair, like-- + + "Zephyr with Aurora playing, + As he met her once a-Maying." + +But before any one had kissed or even touched her, she had +disappeared, leaving the children gazing into the air, and seeking +their late companion with tearful eyes. + +Goldilocks had only gone back to Despard, who was still planting +flower-seeds. + +"What a miserable game," said Goldilocks; "it is worse than playing +funeral! Who thought you could make flowers grow? Our old nurse said +it was only Demeter, the goddess, who could do that. Here, now, you +have called up a bristling crop of thistles and brambles? On my word, +Despard, it is a pity!" + +"Well, well, Goldilocks, see what you can make of them. I am doomed to +work, though I don't wish it; and my work is always disagreeable, +though I can't tell why!" + +Goldilocks knelt, and blew on the prickly plants with her sweet +breath. By the nodding of the next breeze, they were changed to roses, +violets, and hare-bells. + +"It is pleasant to see any thing smile, even a flower," said +Goldilocks, laughing as she spoke. + +"I think," replied Despard, "that this is a strange pilgrimage. I +believe our very thoughts are alive. I wish I could stop thinking." + +By and by they came to a rude house,--as fine a one, though, as people +in the Silver Age had yet learned how to build. Despard paused, and +knocked gently. "Why linger here?" whispered his sister. + +"I know not," sighed the boy, "but so must I do." + +"How now, little ones? you startled me so!" cried a woman, opening the +door by the width of a crack. + +"Let us come in," said Despard, sorrowfully; "we are two little +wanderers; and our hairs are wet with night-dews." + +"Come in, then, little ones, and welcome; but never, at any one's +door, knock so loud again," added the woman, pressing her hand against +her heart. + +"I only tapped with the ends of my fingers," said the boy. + +"Ah," said the woman, "it was louder to me than thunder." Then, after +she had set before them a supper of bread and milk, she rocked her +baby, and sang to it a sweet cradle-song about mother Juno and high +Olympus. + +The children lay down on beds of rushes; and Goldilocks, soothed by +the lullaby, fell asleep; but soon awoke, and saw her brother leaning, +on tiptoe, over the osier basket. The baby's face looked, in the +moonlight, white and pinched; and its sick hands were pressed together +like two withered rose-leaves. + +"Let me kiss him," whispered Goldilocks smiling. But bitter tears +rolled down Despard's cheeks. Drawing his little sword from its +sheath, he pricked the baby's heart till one red drop, the life-drop, +stained the steel. The sick baby ceased to breathe. + +"O Despard, what have you done?" cried Goldilocks, seizing his arm. + +"I know not," said the boy; "but as my heart moves me, so must I do." + +Hearing voices, the mother awoke, and, as her habit was, turned at +once to the cradle. The baby lay there beautiful and still; the +pinched look gone, and its furrowed brow smoothed into a baby's smile. +The mother wept bitterly. + +"Ah, little stranger," said she, turning to Despard, "I knew you when +I let you in. Why did I open the door for you?" + +"Poor mother," said the boy sorrowfully, "if you had not opened the +door, I must have come in by the window." + +But Goldilocks threw her soft arms about the woman's neck, and +comforted her till it was morning, and the "gilded car of day" had +risen from the ocean. The tears on her cheeks she dried with her fan, +made of magical feathers. + +When the children set out again on their journey, the woman gave +Goldilocks a loving kiss, and then embraced Despard, saying,-- + +"For the sake of your sweet sister, I love even you." + +"Poor little brother," said Goldilocks when they had gone farther on +their journey, "you are as good as I; but how is it? you make people +weep, while I must go with you to dry the tears you call forth." + +"I am a black cloud," groaned Despard, "you a sunbeam." + +"But I like to have a cloud to shine on," said loving little +Goldilocks. + +Footsore and weary, the little pilgrims travelled on; and, when they +had gone from north to south, and back again, the Sibyl met them with +tender kisses; and, when they were refreshed, bade them go forth +again. + +"For," said she, "this world is always new, my dears. The people who +are born to-day were not here yesterday; and every mortal must see the +faces of my foster-children." + +It was now the Brazen Age, and Despard and Goldilocks had grown to be +a youth and maiden; but still they travelled on. The Iron Age came; +and Despard's raven hair was frosted; but Goldilocks' curls never +faded. Let her live as long as live she may, she can never grow old. + +Their pilgrimage is not over yet; nor will it be while the earth +revolves about the sun. The brother and sister come to every house; +they knock at every door. + +To all the children who open their eyes upon the light, come Despard +and Goldilocks, the bitter and the sweet of life, the twin angels of +Happiness and Sorrow. + + +THE END. + + + + +Transcriber's Note + +Archaic and variable spelling is preserved as printed. Punctuation +errors have been repaired. Hyphenation has been made consistent. +Typographic errors (omitted letters) have been repaired. + +On page 61, seen has been amended to then--"One sees, now and then, +stupid human beings, ..." + +On page 158, a reference to Hilda has been amended to Zora--"He +described Zora's visit to the cruel goblin." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Fairy Book, by Sophie May + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAIRY BOOK *** + +***** This file should be named 27321.txt or 27321.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/3/2/27321/ + +Produced by David Edwards, Sam W. and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + +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. 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