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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/28263-8.txt b/28263-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6393122 --- /dev/null +++ b/28263-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6672 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Soap-Bubble Stories, by Fanny Barry + +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: Soap-Bubble Stories + For Children + +Author: Fanny Barry + +Release Date: March 6, 2009 [EBook #28263] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOAP-BUBBLE STORIES *** + + + + +Produced by Marcia Brooks, Woodie4, David Edwards and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net +(This file was produced from images generously made +available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + + + + Transcriber's notes: + Alternative spelling and hyphenation have been retained as + they appear in the original publication. Changes have been + made as follows: + + Page 125 on the top of a dias _changed to_ + on the top of a dais + + Page 131 tobogganned down a steep _changed to_ + tobogganed down a steep + + + + + SOAP-BUBBLE STORIES + + + + + Soap-Bubble Stories. + + FOR CHILDREN. + + BY + + _FANNY BARRY_, + + AUTHOR OF "THE FOX FAMILY," "THE OBSTINATE ELM LEAF," "THE BEARS + OF WUNDERMERK," ETC. + + New York: + + JAMES POTT & CO., 14 & 16, ASTOR PLACE. + + 1892. + + + + + TO + + VERA, ELSIE, + OSKAR, OLGA, ERIK, + NEVA, JESSIE, + LEO, DOROTHY, CLAUDE, + AND + HERBERT. + + + + +It was twilight, and the children, tired of playing, gathered round +the fire. + +Outside, the snow fell softly, softly; and the bare trees shook their +branches in the keen air. The pleasant glow of the blazing logs +lighted up the circle of happy faces, and peopled the distant corners +with elfin shadows. + +All the afternoon the children, pipe in hand, with soap suds before +them, had been blowing airy bubbles that caught the gleams of a +hundred flying rainbows--but now in the fading daylight, the pipes +were put aside, and they threw themselves down on the fur rug, and +looked with thoughtful eyes into the caverns of the fire. + +"What can we do now?" they cried, "Won't _you_ make us some bubbles?" + +And someone sitting in the shadow, who had watched and admired their +handiwork; whipped up some white froth in a fairy basin, and taking a +pipe, she blew them some bubbles. + +Not so beautiful as the children's own, with their pure reflections of +the light and sunshine--but the best she could fashion with the +materials she had at hand; for the only soap she could find was +Imagination, and her pipe was a humble black pen. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + PAGE + +THE TROLL IN THE CHURCH FOUNTAIN 1 + +THE IMP IN THE CHINTZ CURTAIN 13 + +HEARTSEASE 22 + +A STORY OF SIENA 27 + +THE STONE-MAIDEN 44 + +THE GRASS OF PARNASSUS 51 + +THE HEDGEHOGS' COFFEE PARTY 53 + +UNCLE VOLODIA 68 + +THE ANGEL AND THE LILIES 95 + +THE ALPEN-ECHO 100 + +THE SCROLL IN THE MARKET PLACE 103 + +A SCRAP OF ETRUSCAN POTTERY 109 + +THE GOATS ON THE GLACIER 114 + +THE GREAT LADY'S CHIEF-MOURNER 139 + +DAME FOSSIE'S CHINA DOG 142 + +PRINCESS SIDIGUNDA'S GOLDEN SHOES 161 + +THE BADGER'S SCHOOL 179 + +BOBBIE'S TWO SHILLINGS 203 + + + + +THE TROLL IN THE CHURCH FOUNTAIN. + + +CHAPTER I. + +It was a village of fountains. They poured from the sides of houses, +bubbled up at street corners, sprang from stone troughs by the +roadside, and one even gushed from the very walls of the old Church +itself, and fell with a monotonous tinkle into a carved stone basin +beneath. + +The old Church stood on a high plateau overlooking the lake. It jutted +out so far, on its great rock, that it seemed to overhang the +precipice; and as the neighbours walked upon the terrace on Sundays, +and enjoyed the shade of the row of plane trees, they could look down +over the low walls of the Churchyard almost into the chimneys of the +wooden houses clustering below. + +There were wide stone seats on the terrace, grey and worn by the +weather, and by the generations of children who had played round them; +and here the mothers and grandmothers, with their distaffs in their +hands, loved to collect on summer evenings. + +Often Terli had seen them from his home by the mountain torrent, for +he was so high up, he looked down upon the whole village; and he had +often longed to join them and hear what they were saying; but as he +was nothing but a River-Troll, he was not able to venture within sight +or sound of the water of the holy Church Fountain. + +Anywhere else he was free to roam; teazing the children, worrying the +women as they washed their clothes at the open stone basins, even +putting his lean fingers into the fountain spout to stop the water, +while the people remained staring open-mouthed, or ran off to fetch a +neighbour to find out what was the matter. + +This was all very pleasant to Terli, and at night he would hurry back +to his relations in their cave under the stones of the torrent, and +enjoy a good laugh at the day's adventures. + +There was only one thing that worried him. Several of the cleverest +old women of the village, who had on several occasions seen Terli +dancing about the country, agreed to hang a little pot of the Church +water in the doors of their houses; and once or twice the Troll, on +attempting to enter in order to teaze the inhabitants, had suddenly +caught sight of the water, and rushed away with a scream of rage and +disappointment. + +"Never River-Troll can stand the sight of the Church Fountain!" said +the old women, and rubbed their hands gleefully. + +In the early summer there was to be a great wedding at the old +Church, the Bridegroom the son of a rich farmer, the Bride one of the +young girls of the village; and Terli, who had known them both from +childhood, determined that for once in his life he would enter the +unknown region of the Church Terrace. + +"Elena has often annoyed me in the past," laughed Terli, "so it is +only fair I should try and annoy her in the future"--and he sat down +cross-legged at the bottom of a water trough to arrange his plans +quietly in seclusion. + +An old horse came by, dragging a creaking waggon, and the driver +stopped to allow the animal to drink. + +The Troll raised himself leisurely, and as the horse put in his head, +Terli seized it in both hands, and hung on so firmly that it was +impossible for the poor creature to get away. + +"Let go!" said the horse, angrily--for he understood the Troll +language. "Let me go! What are you doing?" + +"I shan't let you go till you make me a promise. You get the +Wood-Troll to cork up the Church Fountain at daybreak on Friday +morning, and I'll let you drink as much as you like now, and go +without hindrance afterwards." + +"I shan't promise," said the horse, crossly. "I don't see why I +should." + +"Well, I shall hang on till you _do_," said the Troll with a +disagreeable laugh; and he gripped the old horse more tightly than +ever. + +"Oh, leave off! I'm being suffocated. I'll promise anything," cried +the horse. + +[Illustration: "'LET GO!' SAID THE HORSE, ANGRILY. 'LET ME GO! WHAT +ARE YOU DOING?'"] + +Terli withdrew his hands immediately, sinking down to the bottom of +the trough with a chuckle that made the water bubble furiously; and +the old horse, without waiting to drink, trotted off with an activity +that surprised his master. + +"Remember your promise!" called the Troll, putting his head suddenly +over the edge of the trough, and pointing a thin finger. "On Friday at +daybreak the Church Fountain stopped, or you don't drink comfortably +for a twelve-month!" + + +CHAPTER II. + +Early on Friday morning the bridal procession started gaily, and all +the village folks were so occupied they never noticed that the Church +Fountain had ceased to bubble. + +The bells rang out; while the Troll, hidden in the branches of a tree +close to the entrance door, glanced first at the procession and then +at a wedge of wood sticking out of the stone mouth of the Fountain, +and he laughed elfishly. + +"Ha, ha! The old horse has kept his promise. This _is_ seeing the +world," he whispered triumphantly. + +The marriage ceremony was soon over, and as the newly-wedded pair +stepped out upon the terrace again, Terli drew from his pocket a +little jar of water, and _splash!_ fell some drops from it right in +the eyes of the Bride and Bridegroom. + +"It is beginning to rain! I saw the clouds gathering! Run, run, for +the nearest shelter!" cried everyone confusedly, and off dashed the +crowd, panting and breathless. + +Now it was an unfortunate thing, that after the wedding everything in +the new household seemed to go wrong. + +"The young people have had their heads turned," whispered the old +women, and the poor Bride looked pale and disconsolate. + +"It is a wretched house to have married into," she said to her mother. +"Nothing but these poor boards for furniture, no good fields or +garden--all so dull and disagreeable; and then my husband--he seems +always discontented. I think I was happier at home;" and she tapped +her foot impatiently. + +Her mother argued and remonstrated, and at last began to weep +bitterly. + +"You must be bewitched, Elena, to complain like this! You have +everything a reasonable girl can wish for." + +"Everything? Why I have _nothing_!" cried Elena angrily, and ran from +the room; leaving Terli, who was hiding in a water-bucket, to stamp +his feet with delight. + +"Ha! ha! it is going on excellently," he shouted in his little cracked +voice. "Once let them have the water from the Trolls' well in their +eyes, they'll never be contented again!" and he upset the bucket in +which he was standing over the feet of the Bride's mother, who had to +run home hastily to change her wet shoes. + +"This is the work of the River-Trolls, I believe," she said to +herself, as she held up her soaked skirts carefully. "I'll find out +all about it on St. John's Eve, if I can't do so before"--and she +nodded angrily towards the mountain torrent. + +Days passed, and the sad temper of the newly-married couple did not +improve. + +They scarcely attempted to speak to each other, and groaned so much +over the hardships of their life, that all their friends became tired +of trying to comfort them. + +"They're bewitched," said the Bride's mother, "bewitched, and nothing +else. But wait till St. John's Eve, and you'll see I shall cure them." + +She spoke mysteriously, but as she was a sensible woman everyone +believed her. + +On St. John's Eve--as I daresay you know--all animals have the power +of talking together like human beings, and punctually as the clock +struck twelve the Bride's mother put on her thick shoes, and taking +the stable lantern from its nail, she went off to the stable, refusing +to allow either her husband or son to accompany her. + +As she entered the door of the outhouse, she heard the oxen already +whispering to each other, and the old horse, with his head over the +division, addressing friendly remarks to a family of goats close by. + +"Do you know anything of Terli or the Wood-Trolls?" enquired the old +woman, looking at the oxen severely. + +"No, no, no!" and they shook their heads slowly. + +The Bride's mother then repeated her question to the goat family, who +denied any knowledge of the Trolls with a series of terrified bleats. + +"There is only _you_, then," said the Bride's mother to the old horse. +"You have served us faithfully, and we have been kind masters to you. +Tell me: do you know anything of Terli or the Wood-Trolls?" + +"I do," said the old horse with dignity. "I can tell you more than +anyone else dreams of;" and he stepped from his stall with an air of +the greatest importance. + +The old woman sat down upon an upturned stable-bucket, and prepared to +listen. + +"Just before the wedding," commenced the horse, "I was passing through +the village with old master, when we stopped to drink. No sooner had I +got my nose into the Fountain than, _heuw!_ Terli had hold of me, and +not an inch would he loosen his grip till I promised to let him see +the wedding by getting the Wood-Trolls to stop up the Church Fountain. +What was I to do? I was forced to agree, and from that promise comes +all the misery of the Bride and Bridegroom." + +The old horse then went on to explain what Terli had done on the +wedding day, while the Bride's mother jumped up from the water-bucket +with a cry of delight. + +"All will be well now. You have done us the greatest possible service, +and shall live in leisure for the rest of your life," she said; and +ran out of the stables towards the house, before the astonished +animals could recover themselves. + +"I've found it all out," she cried to her husband. "Now all we have to +do is to catch Terli." + +"Not so easy, wife," said the Bride's father, but the old woman smiled +in a mysterious manner. + +"Leave it to me, husband, _I_ shall manage it. Our children will be +happy again to-morrow, you will see." + + +CHAPTER III. + +The next day at sunrise, the Bride's mother crept off secretly to the +Church Fountain and brought back a large pailful of the water. This +she emptied into a wash-tub and covered with some green pine branches, +and on the top of all she placed a wooden bowl half filled with +butter-milk. + +"Terli likes it so much--he will do anything for butter-milk," she +said to herself, as she propped open the kitchen door, and went off +with a light heart to see her daughter. + +She carried with her a jug of the Church water, and when she arrived +at the farm house, she gave it to her daughter and son-in-law, and +begged them to bathe their eyes with it immediately. + +With much grumbling they obeyed her; but what a change occurred +directly they had done so! + +The day, which had seemed cloudy and threatening rain, now appeared +bright and hopeful. The Bride ran over her new house with exclamations +of delight at all the comfortable arrangements, and the Bridegroom +declared he was a lucky man to have married a good wife, and have a +farm that anyone might reasonably be proud of! + +"How could we ever have troubled over anything?" said the young Bride, +"I can't understand it! We are young, and we are happy." + +The old woman smiled wisely. "It was only the Troll's well-water," +she said, and went home as fast as her feet would carry her. + +As she neared her own door, she heard sounds of splashing and +screaming in a shrill piping voice; and on entering, saw Terli +struggling violently in the tub of Church water, the little bowl of +butter-milk lying spilt upon the floor. + +"Take me out! Take me out! It gives me the toothache!" wailed the +Troll, but the Bride's mother was a wise woman, and determined that +now she had caught their tormentor she would keep him safely. + +[Illustration: "TAKE ME OUT! TAKE ME OUT! IT GIVES ME THE +TOOTH-ACHE!"] + +"I've got the toothache in every joint!" shouted Terli. "Let me out, +and I'll _never_ tease you any more." + +"It serves you very well right," said the old woman, and she poured +the contents of the tub--including Terli--into a large bucket, and +carried it off in triumph to the Church Fountain. + +Here she emptied the bucket into the carved stone basin, and left +Terli kicking and screaming, while she went home to the farmhouse to +breakfast. + +"That's a good morning's work, wife; if you never do another:" said +the Bride's father, who had come into the kitchen just as Terli upset +the bowl of butter-milk, and fell through the pine branches headlong +into the tub beneath. "We shall live in peace and quietness now, for +Terli was the most mischievous of the whole of the Troll-folk." + +The words of the Bride's father proved to be quite true, for after the +capture of the Water-Troll the village enjoyed many years of quietness +and contentment. + +As to Terli, he lived in great unhappiness in the Church Fountain; +enduring a terrible series of tooth-aches, but unable to escape from +the magic power of the water. + +At the end of that time, however, a falling tree split the sides of +the carved stone basin into fragments, and the Troll, escaping with +the water which flowed out, darted from the Churchyard and safely +reached his old home in the bed of the mountain torrent. + +"The Church Fountain is broken, and Terli has escaped," said the good +folks the next morning--and the old people shook their heads gravely, +in alarm--but I suppose Terli had had a good lesson, for he never +troubled the village any more. + +[Illustration: The troll] + + + + +THE IMP IN THE CHINTZ CURTAIN. + +He was a wicked-looking Imp, and he lived in a bed curtain. + +No one knew he was in the house, not even the master and mistress. The +little girl who slept in the chintz-curtained bed was the only person +who knew of his existence, and she never mentioned him, even to her +old nurse. + +She had made his acquaintance one Christmas Eve, as she lay awake, +trying to keep her tired eyes open long enough to see Santa Klaus come +down the chimney. The Imp sprang into view with a _cr-r-r-ick, +cr-r-r-ack_ of falling wood in the great fireplace, and there he stood +bowing to Marianne from the left-hand corner of the chintz curtain. + +A green leaf formed his hat, some straggling branches his feet; his +thin body was a single rose-stem, and his red face a crumpled +rose-bud. + +A flaw in the printing of the chintz curtain had given him life--a +life distinct from that of the other rose leaves. + +"You're lying awake very late to-night--what's that for?" he enquired, +shaking the leaf he wore upon his head, and looking at Marianne +searchingly. + +"Why, don't you see I'm waiting for Santa Klaus?" replied Marianne. +"I've always missed him before, but this time _nothing_ shall make me +go to sleep!" She sat up in bed and opened her eyes as widely as +possible. + +"He has generally been here before this," said the Imp. "I can +remember your great-aunt sleeping in this very bed and being in just +the same fuss. I got down and danced about all night, and she thought +I was earwigs." + +"_I_ should never think you were an earwig--you're too pink and +green--but don't talk, I can hear something buzzing." + +"Santa Klaus doesn't buzz," said the Chintz Imp. "He comes down +_flop!_ Once in your aunt's time, I knew him nearly stick in the +chimney. He had too many things in his sack. You should have heard how +he struggled, it was like thunder! Everyone said how high the wind +was." + +"I hope he won't do it to-night," said Marianne, "I could never pull +him down by myself!" + +As she spoke the room seemed to be violently shaken, and there was a +sound of falling plaster, followed by some loud kicks. + +"Whew--w!" cried the Chintz Imp, "he's done it again!" + +Marianne started up in great excitement. She sprang from her bed, and +ran towards the old-fashioned fireplace. + +Nothing was at first to be seen; but as the fire had died down to a +few hot embers, Marianne could, by craning her head forwards, look +right up into the misty darkness of the great chimney. + +There, to her astonishment, she saw a pair of large brown-covered feet +hanging down helplessly; while a deep voice from above cried-- + +"Get me out of this, or I shall break down the chimney!" + +"Oh, what _am_ I to do?" exclaimed Marianne anxiously, "I'm not tall +enough to reach you! Shall I fetch my Aunt Olga, or would you prefer +my old nurse?" + +"Certainly not," said the voice, with decision. "I have never been +seen by a grown-up person, and I don't intend to begin now. Either you +must get me down by yourself, or I shall manage to work out at the top +again--and then I'm sorry to say you'll have to go without your +presents." + +Marianne sat down on the hearthrug in a state of anxious +consideration. There waved the great brown feet, and two or three +steps would land them safely on the hearthrug, but how could it +possibly be managed? + +The Chintz Imp curled up his green legs and sat down beside her, his +bright red eyes blinking thoughtfully. + +"We must hang on to him," he said at last; "or what do you say to my +trying to collect a dozen or so children, to pull?" + +"Why they'd all be in bed hours ago," said Marianne. "Besides, their +parents would never let them come, and Uncle Max would want to know +whatever we were doing." + +"Yes. I see _that_ idea is no good. Have you such a thing as a +pocket-knife?" enquired the Chintz Imp. + +"A beauty," said Marianne; "four blades, a button-hook, and a +corkscrew." + +"Ah, the corkscrew might be of some use if we could draw him out with +it; but he might object. However, I'll try what I can do with the +knife." + +"You won't cut him! You'll have to be very careful!" + +"Of course," said the Chintz Imp. "Do you think I am as old as your +great-aunt, without knowing much more than _you_ do! Bring me the +knife. I'm going to swarm up the chimney and scratch away the mortar. +Leave it entirely to me, and Santa Klaus will be down here in an hour +or two!" + +Marianne ran off to her little play box, and returned with the knife. +It was almost as large as the Chintz Imp, but he possessed so much +wiry strength in his thin arms and backbone that he was able to +clamber up the chimney without difficulty. + +"Are you all right?" cried Marianne, standing with her bare feet on +the edge of the stone fender, and holding up the night-light as high +as she could without singeing Santa Klaus. + +"Getting up," replied the Chintz Imp, "but he's in very tight!" + +"Is it his sack that's stuck?" enquired Marianne, anxiously. + +"Yes, yes! It's only my sack!" cried the deep voice; "you get that +loose, and I shall drop into the room like a fairy." + +Marianne strained her eyes up the chimney, but could see nothing. + +"Take care! Here's a lot of plaster falling!" + +The warning was just in time, for, as Marianne's head disappeared, a +handful of cement fell rattling into the fireplace, just escaping her +bare feet as she jumped on to the hearthrug. + +"The knife does beautifully," cried the voice of the Chintz Imp. "I +think when I've loosened this paint box, he'll fall down immediately." + +"Oh, do be careful!" said Marianne. "A paint box is what I've been +longing for! Don't chip it if you can possibly help it!" + +"Of course I shan't," replied the Chintz Imp. "If he wouldn't kick so +much, I should get him out in half the time." + +"I'm not kicking," cried Santa Klaus's voice indignantly. "I've been +as still as a rock, even with that horrid penknife close to my ear the +whole time." + +"Have a little patience," said the Chintz Imp soothingly. "I promise +not to hurt you." + +Marianne began to feel very cold. The excitement, so far, had buoyed +her up; but now the monotonous _chip, chipping_ of the Chintz Imp +continued so long that she jumped into her chintz-curtained bed, +determined to stay there until something new and interesting called +her up again. + +"I can't do any good, so I may as well be comfortable," she thought, +and pulled the eider-down quilt up to her chin luxuriously. + +"I _hope_ he'll get out! It _would_ be a disappointment to have that +paint-box taken away again. Perhaps it would be given to someone who +wouldn't care for it. I wonder if it's tin, with moist colours? I must +ask Uncle Max to have that chimney made wider----" At this point +Marianne's eyes closed and she fell asleep. + +She was awakened by a loud _thump!_ that seemed to shake the very bed +in which she was lying; and as she sprang up in a state of great +excitement, she saw Santa Klaus picking himself up from the hearthrug +on which he had apparently fallen with great violence. + +"Oh dear!" cried Marianne, "I hope you are not hurt? How careless of +the Chintz Imp to throw you down like that!" + +"It was no one's fault but my own," said Santa Klaus as he dusted the +remains of soot and plaster off his brown cloak. "I should have +remembered my experience with your great-aunt, but I knew how much you +wanted that paint-box," and he slipped into Marianne's stocking a +japanned box with a whole sheaf of paint brushes. + +"Oh, thank you, Santa Klaus! You can't think how I've wished for it; +my own is such a horrid little thing. And those beautiful pictures for +my scrap-book, and the things for the doll's house--and I _really_ +believe that's the book of fairy tales I've been longing for for +months!" + +Marianne's face shone with delighted expectation as she opened the top +of her stocking and peeped in. + +"Not till the morning," cried Santa Klaus; "you know my rule," and +patting Marianne on the head, he disappeared, with his sack much +lightened, up the chimney. + +"Oh, do come here!" cried Marianne to the Chintz Imp. "I must talk to +somebody." + +"I think you certainly _ought_ to talk to me," said the Chintz Imp, +coming carefully down the brickwork, hand over hand, and laying the +knife down in the fender. "Without me you wouldn't have had a single +present." + +"Of course, I'm very grateful," said Marianne. "I wish he had brought +you something, though I'm sure I don't know what would be useful to +you." + +"Well, I should like a good many things," replied the Chintz Imp, +perching himself on a brass knob at the end of the bedstead, "and one +or two I think you can get me easily. I'm tired of this room and the +little society I see, and I long for the great world. Can't you get me +put on a settee in the Servants' Hall, or somewhere lively?" + +"I'll ask Aunt Olga," said Marianne. "She promised me a Christmas +present, and I was to choose. Suppose I choose new bed curtains?" + +"Certainly," said the Chintz Imp, "but be sure you bargain to hang me +in some cheerful place. Sixty years in one room is too much of a good +thing--I want a change!" and he stretched himself wearily. + +"I really will do my best for you," said Marianne. "I'm afraid you're +too faded for the drawing-room, but I won't have new curtains until I +can see you put somewhere nice. I suppose you wouldn't like the +passages?" + +"Decidedly not," replied the Chintz Imp. "Dull places. No fun, and +nothing going on. The Servants' Hall, or stay where I am!" He folded +his green arms with determination. + +"I'm sure I can manage it," said Marianne, and fell asleep again while +she was arranging the words in which she should make the suggestion to +Aunt Olga. + +The next day Marianne awoke betimes, and immediately inspected the +contents of her stocking. + +There, stuffed clumsily inside it, was everything she had been wishing +for during the year, and more too! + +"Do come and look at my things!" cried Marianne to the Chintz Imp, but +he remained rigidly against his shiny spotted background and refused +to move, though Marianne thought she saw a twinkle in his eye, which +showed he was not quite so impassive as he appeared to be. + +"I'll try and get him put into the Servants' Hall as soon as +possible," she thought. "It makes me quite nervous to think he may +pounce upon me any minute. Besides, one must keep one's promises! How +extraordinary it is he can make himself so perfectly flat." + +As soon as she was dressed she ran down to the dining room. + +"Dear Aunt Olga, I've got such quantities of things to show you!" she +cried, "and as you said I might choose, may I please have new chintz +to my bed, and no pattern on it, so that it can't come out and be +Imps--I mean, have funny shapes on it. And may my old curtains be put +in the Servants' Hall? He says it will be more cheerful for him, and +though, of course, he's been very kind to me, I think I would rather +he went somewhere else. Besides, it _is_ dull for him up there, all by +himself--I mean, it would be dull for _any_ kind of chintz." + +"I do think Santa Klaus has got into your head, Marianne!" said Aunt +Olga, laughing; but she promised to buy the new curtains. + +In course of time they arrived--the palest blue, with little harmless +frillings to them; and the old chintz was carried off to the Servants' +Hall to make a box cover. + +There it still hangs, and if you stoop down and examine it closely, +you will see the Chintz Imp looking more lively than ever, with his +green hat on one side, and a twinkling red eye on the watch for any +sort of amusement. + +Marianne often goes to see him, but, rather to her disappointment, he +looks the other way, and appears not to recognize her. + +"Perhaps it's just as well," she says to herself, "for he seems very +happy, and if the servants knew he was here I believe they would turn +him out immediately." + + + + +HEARTSEASE. + +The three-cornered scrap of garden by the elm tree, with a border of +stones, and a neat trodden path down the middle, belonged to little +Bethea. + +It grew things in a most wonderful way. Stocks and marigolds, +primroses and lupines, Canterbury bells and lavender; all came out at +their different seasons, and all flourished--for Bethea watered and +tended them so faithfully that they loved her. + +[Illustration: "BETHEA WATERED AND TENDED THEM SO FAITHFULLY THAT THEY +LOVED HER."] + +On a soft spring day Bethea stood by her garden with scissors and +basket, snipping away at the brightest and best of her children; +carefully, so that she might not hurt them, and with judgment, so that +they might bloom again when they wished to. + +"Do you know where you're going?" she said--"To the Hospital. +Grandmamma's going to take me, and you're being gathered to cheer up +the sick people there--aren't you pleased?" And the flowers nodded. + +"I don't suppose I shall be picked. I don't think I'm good enough!" +whispered a very small purple pansy, who had only recently been +planted, to a beetle who happened to be crawling by. "I should like +to go with the others, though I don't suppose it would cheer anyone to +see me, I'm not light enough!" + +"Don't be too sure," said the beetle solidly. "You've a nice velvety +softness about you, and then you have the best name of them all. What +sick person wouldn't like to have Heartsease?" + +"I think I've got enough now," said Bethea, as she laid the last +primula in her basket. + +"Oh, do take me!" cried the pansy, touching her little brown shoe with +one of its leaves to attract her attention, "I do want to help!" and +Bethea stooped down, she scarcely knew why, gathered it, and put it +with the rest of her flowers. + +The drive to the Hospital was along a dusty country road, and the +flowers under their paper covering, gasped for breath. + +As soon as they arrived, Bethea, following her grandmother, carried +them up to the room where children were lying in the little white +beds, and gave them to the woman who was in charge of it. + +"Please would you mind putting them in water for the children," she +said in her soft voice, and the woman smiled and nodded. + +Bethea took a few of the flowers out, and went round to the different +beds offering one or two, shyly, until she came to a thin pale boy--a +new patient, whom she had never seen before. + +"He's only been here a fortnight," said the woman in a whisper, "and +we can't get him to take any interest in anything--I don't know what +we're going to do with him!" + +"Is he very ill?" asked Bethea, wistfully. + +"No, not so bad as some. A crooked leg, that will get well in time if +only we can wake him up a little." + +"I'm so sorry I have nothing but this flower left," said Bethea, as +she stooped over the boy's curly head, and gave him the small purple +pansy. + +"Oh, I wish I was more beautiful!" sighed the little dark flower. +"_Now_ would be an opportunity to do some good in the world!" + +The boy turned wearily, but his face lighted up as he saw the pansy. +His eyes brightened and he seized it eagerly. + +"Heartsease! Oh, it's like home. We've lots of that growing in our +garden. I always had some on Sundays!" he cried. "Do let me keep it. +It seems just a bit of home--a bit of home--a bit of home." + +He murmured it over and over again, as if there was rest and happiness +in the very sound of it. + +"I'll keep fresh as long as ever I can," said the pansy, "It's the +least I can do for him, poor fellow!" + +"At all events the flowers are all out of my own garden," said Bethea, +sitting down by the white bed, and then she talked away so gently that +the boy's weary face smoothed out, and he went to sleep. + +In a few days' time Bethea begged her grandmother to let her go again +to the hospital, and she persuaded the gardener to give her a +beautiful bunch of pansies to take to the sick boy. + +As she entered the room, she saw that the little purple pansy was +standing in a tumbler of water, on a chair by the boy's bed. + +Its head hung over on one side, but it looked quite fresh and healthy. + +"Hasn't it lasted well?" said the boy, happily. He looked much better +and spoke in a loud, cheerful voice. "It's been talking to me about +all sorts of things! the country, and gardens, and springtime, and +being out and about in the fresh air and sunshine!" + +"Well, I certainly have tried to make myself as pleasant as possible," +said the pansy, but it spoke so low that nobody heard it except the +boy whose ears were sharpened by illness. + +"I've brought you some more," said Bethea, holding out her bouquet, +"shall I put them in the tumbler with the little one?" + +"Oh, no!" cried the boy anxiously, "I think if you don't mind I'd +rather you gave those to some of the other children. I can't like any +fine new flowers as well as that little fellow. I feel as if he had +made me well again!" + +The pansy expanded with pride, and a tear of gratitude rolled out of +its eye, and fell with a splash on the cane chair-seat. + +"I'm going to have it dried in my old pocket book, when it's really +withered," continued the boy, "and then I shall be able to look at it +always." + +When little Bethea next visited the hospital, the boy with the crooked +leg was just leaving; but his leg was not crooked any longer; his face +was bright and healthy, and safely buttoned up in his coat he carried +a shabby old pocket book, in which lay a withered flower, with one +word written underneath in large pencilled letters--"_Heartsease_." + + + + +A STORY OF SIENA. + + +CHAPTER I. + +The house stands on a hill on the outskirts of Siena, not far from the +high red walls that still enclose the town, as entirely as they did in +the times long passed by, when Siena was the powerful rival of +Florence. + +Old frescoes, and the stone coats-of-arms of the dead and gone rulers +of the place, decorate the great gates; which seem only waiting for a +troop of knights and soldiers to pass through, and with a blast of +their bugles awake the ancient inhabitants of the crooked streets, and +fill them once more with the picturesque crowds of the middle ages. + +We can imagine that the old owners are but lying asleep in their many +storied gothic palaces, their vaulted courtyards, and shady loggias; +ready to rub their eyes and come out as they hear the well-known +sounds ringing across the wide piazza. + +But the knights never come, and the old people go on sleeping; and the +new people walk about the streets, and haggle at the market, and drive +their country carts with the great patient white oxen, and crowd on +Sunday up the broad Cathedral steps to kneel in the dim light before +the lighted altar, as generations have done before them. + +All round the town stretches the open country. Low sandy hills dotted +with olive and cyprus trees, melting into a blue sweep of mountains; +and about a mile from one of the gates stands the rambling white house +with closed shutters in which Maddalena, the housekeeper, lived alone +with her two grandchildren. + +She was a kind old woman and fond of the twins, who had been left +orphans when they were mere babies, but she often thought that surely +no grandmother had ever been plagued before, as she was plagued by +Tuttu and Tutti. + +"When they were infants it was easy enough," she would declare to a +sympathizing neighbour. "Give them a fig or something to play with, +and they were perfectly happy; but at times now I am tempted to wish +they had no legs, what with accidents and mischief.--Not that they're +not fine children, and may be a comfort to my old age, but it's a +harassing thing, waiting." + +It was certainly a fact that Tuttu and Tutti were constantly in +mischief; and yet their curly black heads, red cheeks, and great brown +eyes, were so attractive, that people--even those whose property had +been seriously injured by them--treated them leniently, and let them +off with a scolding. + +The twins were always repentant after one of their misfortunes, and +made serious promises of amendment; but at the next temptation they +forgot all their good resolutions, and never remembered them until +they were in disgrace again. + +Grandmother Maddalena devised numerous punishments for the children, +such as tacking a cow's head cut out of red stuff, on their backs, +when they had teazed Aunt Eucilda's cow--or tieing them up by one leg, +with a long cord to the table, for stone-throwing; but Tuttu and Tutti +were incorrigible. + +They wept loudly, embraced their grandmother, made all kinds of +promises--and the next day went off to do just the same things all +over again. + +There was only one person who had any influence over them, Father +Giacomo, the priest of the little Church of Sancta Maria del Fiore, +close by. He had known them from the time they were helpless babies in +swaddling clothes, till they grew to be mischievous creatures in +homespun trousers; and in every stage of character and clothing he had +borne with them, taught them, played with them, and loved them, until +the _Padre_ had become their idea of all that was wise and good, and +they would do more for the sake of pleasing him than for anyone in the +world, not even excepting their grandmother. + +Every Sunday afternoon Father Giacomo called to take them for a walk, +the one only sure way of keeping them out of mischief; and sometimes +to their great delight they would go along the olive-bordered road to +Siena, returning in the evening to the _Padre's_ house, in time to +have a good game with the two cats Neri and Bianca, who had lived +there since their infancy, as important members of the household. + +On their eighth birthday, Tuttu and Tutti assured their grandmother +that they really intended to reform. They promised faithfully to give +up tree climbing, fishing in the pond, and many other favourite +sports, and commenced to dig in the piece of kitchen garden under +their grandmother's direction. In fact so zealous did Tuttu become +that he borrowed a knife from one of the farm labourers who was vine +pruning, and cut the whole of the branches off a vine near the house, +ending with a terrible gash in his own thumb, which necessitated his +being carried in an ox-cart to the hospital in Siena, supported in his +grandmother's arms; while Tutti walked behind weeping bitterly, under +the impression that the doctor would certainly kill Tuttu this time +for his carelessness. + +Tuttu was not killed, however. The cut was sewn up, while the ox-cart +with its good-natured driver waited outside, and the depressed party +returned home, grandmother Maddalena clasping her little earthen pot +full of hot wood ashes, which even in the excitement of the accident +she had not forgotten to take with her, for it was a cold day in early +springtime.[A] + +[A] A _scaldino_, carried about by all the Siennese women, and used in +the house instead of a fire. + +Tutti was allowed to ride home in the cart, and sat holding Tuttu's +hand, his eyes round with solemnity, the traces of tears still on his +cheeks. + +That night he went to sleep with his arm thrown round Tuttu's neck, +his curly head resting against his shoulder--and though Tuttu was +cramped and uncomfortable, and his thumb pained him, he remained +heroically still until he also dropped asleep, and the two little +brothers dreamed peacefully of pleasant things until the morning. + + +CHAPTER II. + +"Well, thank Heaven! those children are safe for the present," said +Maddalena, as she sat on a stone bench in the sun, with the dark +clipped cyprus hedge behind her. + +To the right rose the stuccoed _Palazzo_, with its great stone +coat-of-arms hanging over the entrance, and inside, a peep of the +shady courtyard, with green tubs of orange trees, and the twinkle of a +fountain that shot up high into the sunshine, and fell with a splash +into a marble basin. + +Maddalena, in her broad Tuscan hat with its old-fashioned black +velvet--for she would never give in to the modern innovations of +flowers and ostrich feathers--held her distaff in her hand, and as she +twisted the spindle and drew out the thread evenly, she thought with +satisfaction of the improved behaviour of the twins. + +Ever since the accident they had been different creatures, and she +wondered how long it would be before they could be apprenticed to some +useful trade, and begin to bring in a little money. + +"When I can get hold of the Padre alone I'll ask him about it; but he +really does spoil these boys till I don't know which tyrannizes over +him most--the two cats or the two children!" + +Maddalena's reflections were suddenly interrupted at this point by the +appearance of her grandchildren from the back of the yew hedge by +which she was sitting--Tuttu on all fours, neighing like a horse, with +Tutti on his back, blowing a clay whistle. + +"We're only doing 'cavalry,' grandmother," gasped Tuttu, with a +scarlet face, attempting to prance in a military manner. + +"Cavalry!" cried Maddalena, starting up. "Those children will be the +death of me. Cavalry indeed! Look at your trousers, you disgrace. All +the knees yellow sand, and the elbows in holes!" and she seized her +distaff and waved it at them threateningly. + +To avoid his grandmother's arm, Tuttu hastily scrambled under the +stone seat, but his unfortunate rider thrown off his balance, fell +head first against the earthen _scaldino_, which was broken, and its +ashes scattered on the path in all directions. + +When Tuttu, lying flat with only his head visible, saw this terrible +misfortune; he crawled out from his hiding-place, and taking Tutti's +hand helped him to get up, and stood courageously in front of his +grandmother. + +"It was all my fault, grandmother. Don't scold him! I made him do it, +and I'm so sorry," he said, with a quiver in his voice, but Maddalena +was too angry to listen to him. She had thrown her distaff on the +ground, and was picking up the pieces of the yellow _scaldino_ to see +if it could possibly be fitted together again. + +"Go in both of you to bed," she called out without looking up, "and +don't let me see either of you again to-day! Just when I had a +moment's peace too, thinking you were at the Padre's. It really is too +much." + +Tutti burst into loud sobs of terror and remorse, but Tuttu took him +by the hand and, without speaking, led him away to the house. + +"Why don't you cry, too, Tuttu?" asked Tutti, stopping his tears to +look in astonishment at his brother. + +"I'm too old," said Tuttu. "Grandmother's quite right, we do behave +badly to her." And that was the beginning of a new era for Tuttu. + +The next day as soon as he was awake, he began to think seriously over +any possible way by which he could earn enough money to buy a new +_scaldino_. He dressed hurriedly and ran off to talk it over with +Father Giacomo, and the result of the conference was a long but kind +lecture of good advice, and permission to weed in the Padre's garden +for the sum of one halfpenny for a large basketful. + +Tuttu danced about with delight. "Why, I shall earn the money in no +time at that rate," he cried, "and I'll buy the best _scaldino_ in +Siena!" + +He felt that he must commence work immediately, and in the evening he +staggered into Father Giacomo's, with a scarlet face, carrying a great +hamper of green stuff. + +When he had a little recovered himself, he unfolded to his old friend +another plan he had thought of during the day, which he was quite sure +would please his grandmother. + +"I've got a broken _fiasco_ that the gardener's given me," he said, +"and I and Tutti mean to put a bean each into it every day we are +really good. Then, at the end of the month--a whole month, mind!--we +might take it up to grandmother." + +Father Giacomo highly approved of this idea, and encouraged the +children by every means in his power; so that, for more than three +weeks, the beans went in regularly and the halfpence in Tuttu's store, +which he kept like a magpie hidden away in a crack of the woodwork, +increased rapidly. + +Old Maddalena had long ago forgiven the children, for though she was +often angry with them, she loved them really. She guessed that Tuttu +was determined to replace the _scaldino_, as on several occasions he +had not been able to resist a veiled hint on the subject; but she +pretended perfect ignorance, and the two little boys might whisper and +laugh to their heart's content--it was quite certain she never heard +anything! + +One soft evening in May, Tuttu came into the Palazzo garden in a state +of great excitement. His last basket of weeds had been handed in to +Father Giacomo, and the entire sum for the _scaldino_ lay in small +copper pieces in a crumpled scarlet pocket handkerchief. + +"It's all here," whispered Tuttu, one great smile stretching across +his good-tempered little face. "Every penny of it!--Shall it be brown +or yellow? It must have a pattern. We'll go into Siena to-morrow and +buy it." + +"To Siena!" said Tutti in an awe-struck whisper, "We've never been +there by ourselves." + +"Never mind, we're older now," replied Tuttu. "Don't you say anything +about it, it's to be a surprise from beginning to end." + +Tutti agreed, as he always did with his brother. Of course Tuttu knew +best, and it would sure to be all right. + + +CHAPTER III. + +They started early in the morning, having put on their holiday clothes +and brushed themselves; and as Bianca, who had come over from the +Padre's house, insisted on following them, they tied a string to her +red collar and determined to let her share the pleasure of their visit +to the "great town." + +Their grandmother was still sleeping, but they left word with the +gardener's boy that they had gone into Siena "on business." + +This sounded well, Tuttu thought, and would disarm suspicion. + +The walk along the dusty high road was long and tiring, and they were +glad when they arrived safely in the Piazza, where the market people +had already begun to collect, for it was market day. + +Tuttu carried his precious earnings tied up with intricate knots in +the handkerchief, and stowed away in the largest of his pockets. He +walked with conscious pride, knowing that he was a person of +"property," and entering the pottery shop at the corner of the Piazza, +began to cunningly tap the _scaldinos_, and peer into them; while +Tutti stood by, lost in admiration at his brother's acuteness. + +Finally, a brown pot, with yellow stripes and spots, was chosen and +paid for, wrapped in the red handkerchief, and carried off in triumph +towards the Porta Camolla. + +"Whatever will grandmother say!" cried Tuttu, almost shouting for joy, +"I wish I could run all the way. There'll be a big bean in the +_fiasco_ for each of us to-night, won't there, Tutti?" + +"You've got a little money left, haven't you, Tuttu?" enquired Tutti, +who was always practical; "Couldn't we buy some cakes. I really feel +very hungry." + +"Certainly not," said Tuttu, firmly, "I shall put it inside the +_scaldino_ for grandmother. That'll be the second surprise. Don't you +see, Tutti?" + +"But it's only two half-pennies," argued Tutti. + +"Oh, she'll be glad enough of that!" said Tuttu, and tramped on +steadily up the street. "Come along, Tutti, we'll go into the +Cathedral." + +Tutti remonstrated no more, he knew it was useless; and the two little +boys, ascending a steep flight of steps, entered the Cathedral at a +side door, and knelt down in the dim light in one of the chapels. + +Tuttu repeated a prayer he had been taught, and then continued +rapidly, "Thank you, too, very much, for making me and Tutti good; and +please let us go on putting beans into the _fiasco_ till it can't hold +any more--and then we'll find something else...." He paused to +meditate. "Make grandmother pleased with us, and bless the cats." + +Here Tuttu could think of nothing else, and nudged Tutti. + +"You go on, Tutti." + +"I think Tuttu's said everything," commenced Tutti in a whisper. "But +please keep us out of the pond, and make us grow so that we can be +artillery; and take us home safe, for the road's rather long, and +we've never been there alone, and there's oxen about." + +"You shouldn't say that, Tutti," said Tuttu, reprovingly. "Oxen won't +hurt you, and you shouldn't be a coward." + +"Well, shall I pray not to be a coward?" enquired Tutti. + +"If you think it's necessary," said Tuttu. "But you can save that for +another time--we ought to be going now"--so Tutti got up, and the +children pushed their way through the heavy curtain by the door, and +found themselves once more in the bright sunshine. + +Certainly Bianca had been no trouble to them. In the Cathedral she +behaved in the most serious manner, sitting by their side, and never +moving until they pulled the string to which she was fastened; when +she got up solemnly, and followed them on to the Piazza. + +"I'm glad I prayed for you, Bianca, good cat!" said Tuttu. "You would +never have allowed anyone to touch that _scaldino_, would you?" + +Bianca mewed. She was rather bewildered by her walk through the town, +but as long as her two friends were satisfied, that was enough for +her. + +As they came out upon the more crowded thoroughfare, the twins with +their white cat attracted some attention, and many laughing remarks +were shouted to them as they edged their way along the narrow paved +street, where the absence of any pathway made it necessary to keep +their eyes very wide open indeed, to avoid being run over by the carts +and carriages. + +[Illustration: "THE TWINS WITH THEIR WHITE CAT ATTRACTED SOME +ATTENTION."] + +Tutti walked in charge of Bianca, while Tuttu devoted all his +attention to the _scaldino_ in its red handkerchief, and a large green +cotton umbrella he had brought from home in case the day should turn +out to be rainy. + +This umbrella seemed to be endowed with life, so extraordinary was its +power of wriggling itself under the legs of the passers by. It had to +be constantly wrenched out, with many apologies, by its owner; while +the person who had been nearly tripped up by it, went on his--or +her--way grumbling. + +No one did more than grumble, however, for the look of horror on +Tuttu's face was irresistible. + +"Go on, Tutti; do hurry!" he cried, urgently. "I'm getting so hot with +this horrible umbrella. It seems to catch hold of people whichever way +I carry it!" + +"I _am_ going," replied Tutti laconically. "But remember, I've got the +cat." + +As he spoke a boy darted out from one of the grim old houses close by, +and picking up a loose stone threw it at Bianca, grazing her head, and +leaving a great red stain that commenced to trickle slowly down her +spotless white body. + +Tuttu, his eyes blazing with wrath, placed the _scaldino_ by the side +of the kerbstone, and darted at the boy, waving his umbrella; while +Tutti threw his arms round Bianca's neck and tried to hush her mews of +terror by a shower of tears and kisses. + +"How _dare_ you?" shouted Tuttu, beside himself with anger. "Go away, +and leave our poor Bianca! You've killed her, I expect; and I wish I +could kill you!" But even in the midst of his ungovernable rage, +Tutti's voice reached him. + +"Oh, Tuttu, Tuttu! the _scaldino_!" + +Tuttu darted across the street towards the stone where he had left the +precious red bundle. There it was, lying unhurt, and he was about to +seize it and carry it to a place of safety, when a fast-trotting horse +with one of the light country gigs behind him, dashed down the street. + +"Get out of the way! Get out of the way!" shouted the driver--but it +was too late! + +The gig flew on, and Tuttu lay white and quiet, the _scaldino_ still +grasped in his two little outstretched hands. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +"Where's the _scaldino_, grandmother?" were Tuttu's first words, when +he woke up to find himself lying on a little bed in a long room, with +Maddalena and Father Giacomo bending over him. "We saved up.... It's +all for you...." he muttered brokenly, "Have you got it?" + +"Yes, my lamb. A beautiful one it is," said the old woman, the tears +streaming down her wrinkled face. "You lie still and get better, my +Tuttu." + +"I will, grandmother, but I want you to see the surprise inside. It's +from weeding.... Father Giacomo will tell you. I'm so tired, +grandmother.... How's Bianca?" + +"Very well, Tuttu, she has only a slight scratch.... Oh, my poor boy!" +and Father Giacomo's voice broke. + +"Is it near evening?" said Tuttu, after a few minutes, during which he +lay moving his head restlessly. + +"It soon will be," said the Padre. "Why do you ask, Tuttu?" + +"The _fiasco_.... Do you think I may put a bean in to-night, or was I +too angry?" + +"You may, Tuttu," said Father Giacomo, turning away his head. "If you +tell me where it is, I will send for it." + +"By the melon bed. Tutti knows. He'll bring it," whispered Tuttu. +"It's nearly full--only four days more. Put one in for Tutti." + +As the setting sun streamed into the long room, Tutti crept in, +holding Father Giacomo's hand; carrying the broken _fiasco_. + +Tuttu awoke from a restless sleep as they entered, and smiled with a +faint reflection of his old happy laugh. "That's right, Tutti. You +_have_ been good, haven't you?" + +"Yes," quavered Tutti, lifting his terrified, tear-stained face to his +brother. + +"Put your bean in then, Tutti, and give me mine. It's getting so late, +it's almost night-time." + +Tutti held out the bean with a trembling hand, and as it dropped into +the old bottle, little Tuttu gave a quiet sigh. + +"It only wants four more," he said happily. + +Only four more! But Tuttu might never put them in. That night he +started on a long, long journey, and as the old grandmother with +choking sobs placed the broken bottle on a shelf among her treasures, +she turned to Tutti who was lying, worn out with grief, upon the +doorstep. + +"Come, my Tutti," she said, "there are only us two now. We must try +and be very good to each other." + + * * * * * + +Years afterwards, Tutti, coming home on leave--for he had clung to his +childish idea of being a soldier--found the broken _fiasco_ in the +corner where his grandmother had hidden it; and taking out the beans +that had been lying there so long, he carried them to a little grave +with a small white cross at the head of it. + +"Dear Tuttu! He would like to have these growing round him," he +thought, and planted them carefully amongst the flowers and grasses. + +Grandmother Maddalena was too old to move out of the house now, but +Father Giacomo watered the beans lovingly, and in the soft spring air +they grew rapidly, so that they soon formed a beautiful tangle, hiding +the cross and even the name that still stood there clearly in black +letters + +"TUTTU." + + + + +THE STONE-MAIDEN. + +Atven was the son of a fisherman, and lived with his father on a flat +sandy coast far away in the North-land. + +Great rocks strewed the shore about their hut, and the child had often +been told how, long, long ago, the giant Thor fought single-handed +against a shipload of wild men who attempted to land in the little +bay; and drove them off--killing some, and changing others into the +wonderful stones that remained there to that day. + +The country people called them "Thor's balls;" and Atven often +wandered about amongst them, trying to find likenesses to the old +warriors in their weather-worn surfaces; and peering into every hole +and cranny--half dreading, half hoping to see a stone hand stretched +out to him from the misty shadows of the past. + +Here and there, a row of smaller boulders lay half sunk in the sand, +with only their rounded tops, covered with long brown seaweed, +appearing above the surface. + +These, Atven decided, must be the heads of the ancient Norsemen, and +further on stood their huge mis-shapen bodies, twisted into every +imaginable form, and covered by myriads of shell-fish, that clung to +their grey sides like suits of shining armour. + +Atven was often lonely; for he had no brothers or sisters, and his +mother had died many years before. He was a shy, wild boy--more at +home with the sea birds that flew about the lonely shore, than with +the children he met sometimes as he wandered about the country; but in +spite of his shyness he had friends who loved him everywhere he went. +The house dogs on every farm knew his step, and ran out to greet him; +the horses rubbed their noses softly upon his homespun tunic; the +birds clustered on his shoulders; the cats came purring up, and the +oxen lowed and shook their bells as soon as they caught sight of him. +The very hens cackled loudly for joy--and Atven would caress them all +with his brown hand, and had a kind word for every one of them. + +All the short Northern summer, Atven spent his evenings in searching +about amongst "Thor's balls" for traces of the warriors of the old +legend; and one night, in the soft clearness of the twilight, he came +upon something that rewarded him for all his patient perseverance. + +Lifting a mass of seaweed that had completely covered one of the +larger rocks, he saw before him the graceful form of a little +Stone-maiden! + +There she lay, as though quietly sleeping, her long dress falling in +straight folds to her feet, her rippled hair spreading about her. One +small hand grasped a chain upon her neck, the other was embedded in +the rock on which she was lying. + +Atven was so astonished that he stared at the child-figure as if +turned into a statue himself. + +Then he realized that his long search had been rewarded, and he fell +on his knees and prayed that the Stone-maiden might be released from +her prison, and given to him to be a little playfellow. + +As soon as it was daylight the next morning, he started off to ask the +advice of his one friend, the old Priest of Adgard. + +The day was fine, with a crisp northern air, and a bright sun that +danced on the long stretches of sandy grass, and on the swaying boughs +of the fir trees. + +Atven's heart beat hopefully as he neared the neat wooden house in +which the old Priest lived. + +Father Johannes welcomed him kindly, as he always did; and listened +attentively whilst Atven told his story. + +"It must have consideration, my child," he said. "I will come down to +the shore to-morrow--perhaps I may be able to think of something." + +Atven took up his cap humbly, and started on his homeward journey. + +As he threaded his way beneath the shadows of the pine-trees, the +sun's fingers darted through the branches and drew a golden pattern on +the mossy ground under his feet; the mosquitoes hummed drowsily, the +air was full of soft summer warmth and brightness--but Atven's +thoughts were far away with the ancient legend and the Stone-maiden. + +How had she come to be amongst the shipload of "wild-men" in the misty +ages when Thor yet walked the earth? Had she a father and mother who +loved her, and perhaps brothers and sisters--and how long had she been +sleeping so quietly in the arms of the great rock? + +It was a strange cradle, with only the sea to sing her lullaby, and +wash her lovingly, like a tender mother! + +Atven hurried on; and as he peered before him with sun-dazzled eyes, +he thought he saw a figure flitting in and out between the brown tree +stems. + +It was a small, light figure, with a strange kind of loose dress, and +long floating hair of a beautiful gold colour. It glided along so +rapidly that Atven had some difficulty in keeping pace with it. + +Every now and again it seemed to be beckoning to him with one little +hand; and at last as he ran faster and faster, it suddenly turned its +head, and he saw the face of a beautiful young woman. Her brown eyes +were soft and clear, and her cheeks tinted with a colour so delicate, +it reminded Atven of the little pink shells he sometimes found after a +storm upon the sea-shore. + +"Atven! Atven!" she murmured, "You have found my child. Give her life! +Give her life!" + +"Tell me what I am to do!" cried Atven, and stretched out his hands +towards the beautiful young woman; but at that moment she reached the +shore, and gliding between the boulders, disappeared amongst their +dark shadows. + +Atven threw himself down beside the rock on which the Stone-maiden lay +sleeping. He grieved for her so much that tears rolled slowly down his +cheeks, and as they touched the stone, the great boulder shook and +crumbled, and a shudder passed over the figure of the Stone-maiden. +She seemed to Atven to sigh gently, and half open her eyes; but in a +moment they closed again; the rock settled into its place, and +everything was motionless. + +"To-morrow! To-morrow!" he said to himself, "When Father Johannes +comes, he will help me." + +Early next morning the old Priest knocked at the door of the +fisherman's hut. He had started at daybreak, for he knew that Atven +would be anxiously awaiting him. + +They went down together to the shore; and when Father Johannes saw the +figure of the sleeping child, he took out of his bark basket, a little +jar of water from the Church Well, and sprinkled it over her. + +The Stone-maiden stirred and opened her eyes. She raised her hands, +breathed gently, and lifting her head, gazed at the old Priest and the +boy with wistful brown eyes, like those of the figure Atven had met in +the forest. + +"Where is my father? Where am I?" she asked, in a low soft voice, as +she rose up from the rock, and shook out the folds of her long dress. + +Father Johannes took her hand, and gently repeated the old legend; +while the Stone-maiden listened with wide-open eyes. + +"I remember it all now," she said, as the puzzled look faded from her +face. "We had but just landed when the thick cloud came down, and a +shower of stones fell upon us. My father was smitten down with all his +followers, and I only was left weeping upon the shore. A cold air +seemed to breathe upon me, and I fell asleep." + +She spoke slowly, in the old Norse tongue, but Father Johannes had +studied it, and understood her without much questioning. + +"Where was your mother?" he asked kindly, as Atven with smiles of +delight, seized her other hand. + +"My mother died just before we set sail, and my father would not leave +me lonely," answered the Stone-maiden sadly. + +"But we will all love you now," cried Atven. "I will grow tall and +strong to work for you, and you shall never be unhappy any more!" + +The Stone-maiden smiled, as she stood on the threshold of her new +life. She looked up trustingly at her two friends, and the old Priest +of Asgard, bending down, laid his hand upon her head with a gentle +blessing. + + * * * * * + +The Warriors' heads, with their tangled elf-locks, still peer out of +the drifting sand--the twisted bodies in their sea armour, lie half +surrounded by the green waters; but the log hut, and Atven have +vanished into the misty shadows of the past. They, and the good old +priest, have drifted away to Shadow-Land. + +Only the sea talks of them still; and croons them a lullaby, as soft +as the centuries-old song, it sang over the cradle of the enchanted +Stone-maiden. + + + + +THE GRASS OF PARNASSUS. + +On the banks of a clear stream in one of the far away Greek islands, +grew a small flowering plant, with delicate stem and transparent white +flower, called "Grass of Parnassus." + +Every day it saw its own face, reflected in the running water, and +every day it made the same complaint-- + +"This place is beautiful, the soft earth wraps me round, the branches +bend over me, but I can never be happy, for I have never seen a +River-God!" + +The fish swimming close to the shore had talked to the Grass, of the +mysterious race who lived in the shallows of the river, higher up, +where it broadened into a lake; and played on their rude pipes as they +rested in the flickering gloom of the water-weeds and rushes. + +"Everyone has seen the River-Gods but me!" said the white flower. "The +wind brings me the floating sound of their piping--I can even hear +their laughter, and the echo of their voices. Yet they do not come, +and I may wither, and never have the happiness I long for!" + +But one day, the river-side thrilled, with a strange, new feeling of +hope and expectation. The sun shone, a faint breeze stirred the trees; +and down the stream waded a beautiful youth, carrying his pipes in his +hand, blowing a few notes mournfully, at long intervals. His hair, +crowned with an ivy wreath, hung down, curled and tangled; his +hoof-feet splashed in the shallows of the water, and he cried-- + +"Nadiä! Nadiä! Where are you hiding--Why do you not come to me?" + +The white flower remained, enchanted and motionless, upon its stem, +bending its yellow eye upon the stranger. + +"Nadiä! Nadiä!" the voice wailed, "Do not hide from me any more!--Come +to me!" + +The bushes rustled and parted; a delicate girl's face looked out, and +a wood nymph in floating garments, slid to the side of the stream, and +dabbled her white feet in the water. + +The youth gave a cry of joy; "I have found you, Nadiä! I have piped to +you, and called to you till I was weary; but I loved you, and at last +I have found you!" + +The wood nymph smiled as she sat in the flickering shadows--and the +River-God bending down, gathered the Grass of Parnassus, and placed it +timidly in her shining tresses. + +The wish of the white flower had been fulfilled; but the end of its +life's longing was--Death. + + + + +THE HEDGEHOGS' COFFEE PARTY. + +A STORY OF THURINGIA. + + +CHAPTER I. + +It was winter time, and the Thuringia-Wald lay still and white under +its snowy covering. + +The fir trees waved their branches in the frosty air, and a clear moon +had risen over the mountains. + +All was quiet and deserted, except that a faint sound of music and +singing floated on the wind, coming undoubtedly from the comfortable +burrow of the Hedgehog family, who lived under one of the largest pine +stumps. + +Councillor Igel--for the father was a member of the Hedgehog +Government--had consented to allow the young people to have one or two +friends to coffee, and they had been dancing with the greatest spirit +for the last half hour. + +By the porcelain stove stood the Councillor's only brother, Uncle +Columbus, who had devoted himself since childhood to learned pursuits, +and was much respected by the rest of the family. + +He looked down upon all amusements as frivolous, but then he had been +to College, so his superior mind was only what was to be expected. + +The Councillor belonged to an ancient Thuringian race who had been +settled for centuries in the forest near the little town of Ruhla. +They were a proud family, for one of their uncles had, some years +before, been called to take up the position of Court Hedgehog at the +Royal country Palace, where he moved in the highest society, and +occasionally invited his relations to visit him. + +"But fifty miles is really almost too far to go with nothing but a cup +of coffee at the end," said the Hedgehog-mother, "and he never invites +us to sleep. We don't, therefore, see so much of him as we otherwise +should do." + +"That must be very trying," replied the Mole-mother, to whom these +confidences were being poured out. + +"Yes, for of course it would be an inestimable advantage to the +children to see a little Court life. However, with the fashions +altering so quickly, it would be difficult for me to arrange their +dresses in the last mode--and I couldn't have them looked down upon." + +"Of course not," humbly replied the Mole-mother. She was sitting by +the table, with her homespun knitting in her hand; and though she was +trying to pay attention to her friend's words, she was arranging her +dinner for the next day at the same time, and wondering whether her +eldest child could have one more tuck let out of her frock before +Christmas time. + +"It's all very well for the Hedgehog-mother," she thought. "She comes +of a high family, and can live in luxury; but with all my children, +and my poor husband working away from morning till night, I'm obliged +to plan every coffee bean, or I could never keep the house together!" + +The Councillor's wife, however, talked on without noticing her +distraction. + +"Do you ever find any inconveniences from living so near the town?" +she enquired. "Do the boys ever annoy you? They are sometimes very +ill-bred." + +"Our house is in such a retired position, I seldom see anyone," +replied the Mole-mother. "The Forester's family are our nearest +neighbours, and really they are so kind they might almost be Moles +themselves." + +"That is very pleasant for you," said the Frau Councillor. "_Our_ case +is quite different. The Rats who keep the inn at the cross roads, are +most disagreeable people. We can't associate with them." + +[Illustration: "THE RATS WHO KEEP THE INN ARE MOST DISAGREEABLE +PEOPLE."] + +"Gypsies!" cried Uncle Columbus at this moment. He had an unpleasant +habit when he did not like the conversation, of suddenly reminding the +family of a tragedy that had happened some sixty years ago, when a +promising young Hedgehog had been carried off to captivity by a band +of travelling Tinkers, and finally disposed of in a way too terrible +to be alluded to. + +The Councillor's wife looked angry, and hastily changed the subject. + +"He is quite a trial to us sometimes!" she whispered to the +Mole-mother. "Such bad taste to mention Gypsies. It makes me tremble +in every quill!" + +"I think I must be going now," said the Mole-mother hurriedly, putting +away her knitting into a reticule, and tying a woollen hood over her +head--for she felt that it would not do for strangers to be mixed up +in these family matters. + +Calling her children to her, she helped them into their warm galoshes; +and lighting a small lantern, they were soon out in the snowy forest. + + +CHAPTER II. + +"Oh, mother, I wish we were rich like the Hedgehogs," cried the eldest +daughter, Emmie; "Wilhelm and Fritz are so fashionable, and on Berta's +birthday they are going to give a grand coffee party, to which the +Court Hedgehog is expected!" + +"Well, they won't ask us, so you had better not think too much about +it," said the Mole-mother; "don't let your mind run on vanities." + +As she spoke they saw the two rats from the Inn coming towards them. +The elder--the proprietor of the Inn--in a peasant's dress with a pipe +in his mouth, dragging a small sledge on which three infant rats were +seated, wrapped in a fur rug, while their mother walked beside +them, her homespun cloak trailing over the snow. + +"Good evening, neighbours!" cried the Mole-mother pleasantly, for +though she did not exactly approve of the Rat household, she always +treated them with civility. "Where are you out so late? How well the +children are looking!" + +"Yes, they grow rapidly--bless their little tails and whiskers!" said +the Rat-mother proudly. "We have just been to my brother's in the +town, taking a cup of coffee with him, and there we heard some news. +_I_ can tell you! There's to be a grand Coffee Party at the Hedgehogs, +and though all the guests have been invited, _we_ alone are left out. +Most insulting _I_ call it!" + +"Well, it _is_ rude," allowed the Mole-mother, "but they've not asked +us either. You see the Court Hedgehog is to be there, and so it is +very select." + +"Select! I'll make them select!" growled the proprietor of the Inn +with a scowl. "Who are they I should like to know? They may have +Gypsies upon them at any moment!" + +"Oh, I hope not!" cried the Mole-mother. + +"There's a Tinker's boy in the town," said the Innkeeper, darkly, "and +he's always looking out for Hedgehogs--I shouldn't be surprised if he +heard where the family live." + +"Good-night!" said the Mole-mother, nervously, and hurried on with her +children. + +"Some mischief will be done if we don't watch," she said to Emmie, +who was a mole of unusual intelligence. "I'll tell your brother to +keep his eye on the Rat Inn." + +After about half an hour's walking, they arrived at home; for their +house was in a secluded position in the most unfrequented part of the +forest. + +Though very simple, it was clean and well kept, and furnished with a +large cooking stove, a four-post bedstead, and a few wooden benches. + +In the one arm-chair sat the Mole-father, reading the newspaper; while +his sister, Aunt Betta, with a cap with long streaming ribbons on her +head, was busily stirring something in a saucepan. + +As the Mole-mother and her family, descended the stone stairway that +led from the upper air, a delicious smell of cooking greeted them. Two +large tallow candles were burning brightly, and altogether the house +presented a very lively appearance. + +"Here you are at last," cried the Mole-father. "Supper is just ready, +and I have sent Karl to the Inn for some lager-beer." + +"I wonder if he will hear anything," said the Mole-mother taking off +her galoshes; and then she related all the news of the evening. + +"If there isn't some mischief brewing, may I be made into waistcoats!" +exclaimed the Mole-father, throwing down his newspaper. + +It was his favourite expression when much excited, and never failed +to give the Mole-mother a shiver all down her back. She called it such +very strong language. + +At this moment Karl came clattering down the steps. + +"Oh, father! mother! I _have_ heard something!" he shouted. "The +Rat-father has started off to the Tinker's to tell the boy where the +Hedgehogs are living!" + +The Mole-mother sank down on a bench gasping. + +"He's done it then! Oh, the poor Hedgehogs!" she cried wringing her +hands, "They'll be cooked in clay before they can turn round." + +"Don't be in such a hurry, wife," said the Mole-father. "I've thought +of something. We won't terrify the Hedgehogs--What can _they_ do?--but +we'll collect all the Moles of the neighbourhood, and make a burrow +all round the house; then if the Tinker's son comes, he'll fall in, +and can't get any further. What do you think of that, eh?" + +"An excellent idea!" said the Mole-mother, recovering. "Send Karl +round to-night, and begin the first thing to-morrow morning." + +As soon as daylight dawned in the forest, the Mole-father, accompanied +by his wife and children, and all their friends; went out in a long +procession, with their shovels and wheelbarrows, and commenced work +round the Hedgehogs' house. + +The Councillor's family were so busily occupied in turning out, and +arranging, their rooms for the festivity--which was to include a dance +in the evening--that they had no time to take any notice of the +Moles' digging; in fact they never even observed it. The younger +Hedgehogs were roasting coffee. The house-mother sugared the cakes in +the back-kitchen, while the Councillor, with a large holland apron, +rubbed down the floor, and gave a final dust to the furniture. + +As to Uncle Columbus--he sat on a sort of island of chairs in one +corner, studying a book, and looking on misanthropically at the +preparations. + +The Moles, therefore, were quite uninterrupted, and burrowed away +vigorously, until the earth all round the house was mined to a depth +of several feet; and they returned home to dinner in high spirits. + +"If that boy dares to venture, may I be made into waistcoats, if he +doesn't fall in!" cried the Mole-father, wiping his face with a red +cotton pocket-handkerchief--for though the snow was on the ground the +work was exhausting. + + +CHAPTER III. + +The Tinker's family sat round a fire, in one of the tumble-down wooden +cottages that dotted the outskirts of the little town of Ruhla. + +A small stove scarcely warmed the one room, for great cracks appeared +in the walls in every direction. + +"We've got no dinner to-day; are you going after those Hedgehogs?" +said the Tinker to his son Otto. "Now you know where they are, it +will be an easy thing to get hold of them." + +"Yes; we'll have a fine supper to-night," said Otto, stamping his feet +to get them warm. "Come with me, Johann, and we'll take the old sack +over our shoulders to bring them back in." + +They started off over the crisp snow sparkling in the early sunshine, +away to the forest; and straight towards the great pine tree, which +sheltered the underground home of Councillor Igel. + +"Come, Johann!" cried Otto, bounding along over the slippery pathway; +but Johann was small and fat, and his little legs could not keep pace +with Otto's long ones. He soon fell behind, and Otto raced on by +himself. + +"Do be careful, Otto! There's lots of Moles here," cried little +Johann, but Otto did not stop to listen. On he ran almost up to the +pine tree; when Johann saw him suddenly jump into the air, and +disappear through the snow with a loud shriek. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +At the sound of the fall, the Councillor ran up the steps to his front +door, and put out his head cautiously to see what was the matter. + +"Gypsies!" said Uncle Columbus without raising his eyes from his +book; and for the first time in his life he was right! + +Gypsies it certainly was, as the Councillor soon determined; and he +hastily scratched some snow over the door, and retired to the back +kitchen with his whole family, in a terrible state of fright and +excitement. + +"What _can_ the boy have fallen into?" he enquired vainly of the +Hedgehog-mother, and of Uncle Columbus, in turn. "There are no houses +there that _I_ know of. We have been saved by almost a miracle!" + +As they remained shuddering in a little frightened knot--only Uncle +Columbus maintaining his philosophical calm--the air filled with the +odour of burnt sugar; a faint knocking was heard against the side of +the stove pipe, and in another minute the Mole-father's red nightcap +appeared through a hole, and his kind face shortly followed. + +"Don't be frightened," he said reassuringly. "I have made a little +tunnel and come through--merely to explain things. I thought perhaps +you might be a little alarmed." + +"Alarmed!" cried the Hedgehog-mother. "It doesn't describe it! +Terrified, and distracted, is nearer to the real thing. The sugar +biscuits are all spoilt, for I forgot them in the oven; and my +daughter Berta fainted on the top of the stove, and is so seriously +singed, she will be unable to appear at the party. Not that we shall +be able to have a party now," continued the Hedgehog-mother, weeping, +"for Uncle Columbus sat down on the plum cake in mistake for a +foot-stool, and Fritz has trodden on the punch bottles. Oh, what a +series of misfortunes!" + +"Cheer up, my good neighbour, all will come right in time," said the +Mole-father encouragingly. + +"As long as the Court Hedgehog doesn't appear in the middle," wailed +the Councillor. "It makes me shudder in every quill to think of it. +Not even a front door to receive him at!" + +"Oh, as to that, let him come to us, and we will give him the best we +have," replied the Mole-father. "Our place is homely, but I daresay he +will condescend to put up with it till your house is in order again. I +sent Karl on to intercept him, and explain just how it is. He will +take him straight to our house till you are ready for him." + +"Well, I must say you have been exceedingly thoughtful," said the +Councillor, pompously, "and I feel sincerely grateful to you; but now, +will you kindly explain to me the cause of this severe disturbance?" + +"I think I'll come into the room first, if you'll allow me," said the +Mole-father. "I am getting rather a crick in the neck from sticking my +head through here." + +"Come in by all means," said the Hedgehog-mother, graciously. "I am +sorry to be obliged to receive you in this humble apartment." + +"Gypsies!" growled Uncle Columbus, who was brushing the currants and +crumbs off his coat with a duster. + +The Mole-father had by this time worked himself into the kitchen, +dragging his spade after him; and seated on a bench by the stove, he +related the whole story to the Councillor, but carefully omitted to +give the name of the person who had betrayed the Hedgehogs to the +Tinker's family; and notwithstanding the requests of the whole family, +he firmly refused to do so. + +"All's well that ends well," he said cheerfully, "and as I heard the +Tinker forbidding his sons ever to come near the place again, you will +be quite safe in the future." + +"What has happened to that dreadful boy? Is he still in the hole, or +have they got him out?" enquired the Hedgehog-mother anxiously. + +"Got him out some time ago," said the Mole-father, "and carried him +off to the hospital. Broke his leg, I am sorry to say, though it's +nothing very bad. He will be all right in six weeks or so. I don't +think much of those human fractures." + +"Serves him right," said the Councillor viciously. "And now, my good +preserver, in what way can we show our gratitude to you? I shall send +Fritz and Wilhelm into the town for more provisions, and we might have +our Coffee Party after all. What do you say to that, my children?" + +The family clapped their hands joyfully. + +"I trust you and your family will grace the party?" said the +Hedgehog-mother to the old Mole. + +"On one condition," he replied, "I shall be delighted to do so; and +that is that you will allow me to ask the Rats from the Inn. They are +touchy people, and do not readily forgive an injury." + +"What I said all along," muttered Uncle Columbus, lifting his eyes +from his dusting. "I said 'away with pride,' but I wasn't listened +to." + +"You will be now," said the Councillor in a soothing and dignified +manner. "Certainly; send an invitation to the Inn if you wish it. Just +write, 'To meet the Court Hedgehog,' at the top, Wilhelm; it will make +it more gratifying." + + +CHAPTER V. + +The Court Hedgehog, with an escort of six guards, had meanwhile +arrived at the Mole's house, and was being entertained by the +Mole-mother and her children, who were all in a state of great +nervousness. + +The Court Hedgehog, however, appeared to be more condescending than +could have been expected from his position. He accepted some +refreshment, and a pipe of the Mole-father's tobacco, and then +reclining in the one easy chair, he awaited the course of events with +calmness. + +Here the Councillor found him some hours later, when the confusion in +the Hedgehog household having been smoothed over--a deputation of the +father and sons started to bring the distinguished guest home in +triumph. + +The rooms in the Councillor's house had all been gaily decorated with +pine branches; the stove sent out a pleasant glow; and the +Hedgehog-mother, in her best cap and a stiff black silk dress, stood +waiting to welcome her guests in the ante-room. + +By her side sat Berta, who had fortunately recovered sufficiently to +be present at the entertainment; though still suffering from the +effects of the shock, and with her head tied up in a silk +handkerchief. + +[Illustration] + +As the Court Hedgehog appeared in the doorway, three of the younger +children, concealed in a bower of branches, commenced to sing an ode +composed by Uncle Columbus for the occasion, beginning "Welcome to +our honoured guest,"--while a fiddler hired for the occasion +accompanied it upon the violin, behind a red curtain. + +The first visitors to arrive were the Moles; followed by the Rat +family, who were filled with remorse when they received the +invitation, at the thought of their treacherous behaviour. + +"I declare, mother," said the Innkeeper to his wife in a whisper, "the +Mole-father is such a good creature, I shall be ashamed to quarrel +with any of his friends for the future. 'Live and let live,' ought to +be our motto." + +Uncle Columbus did not appear till late in the evening, when he +entered the room dressed in an antiquated blue coat with brass +buttons, finished off by a high stand-up white collar. + +He staggered in, carrying a large plum cake about twice the size of +the one he had unfortunately sat down upon; which he placed upon the +coffee table, where the Hedgehog-mother was presiding over a large +collection of various cups, mugs, and saucers. + +"I have only just come back from town, where I went to procure a cake +fit for this happy occasion," he whispered. "It does my heart good to +see this neighbourly gathering, and I have made up my mind to promise +you something in memory of the event. I will from this day, give up +for ever a habit which I know has been objectionable to you--the word +'Gypsies' shall never again be mentioned in the family." + + + + +UNCLE VOLODIA. + +A STORY OF A RUSSIAN VILLAGE. + + +CHAPTER I. + +On the one hill of the district, just outside the village of Viletna, +stood the great house belonging to Madame Olsheffsky. + +All round it lay, what had once in the days gone by, been elaborate +gardens, but were now a mere tangle of brushwood, waving grass, and +wild flowers. + +Beyond this, again, were fields of rye and hemp, bounded on one side +by the shining waters of the great Seloe Lake, dug by hundreds of +slaves in the time of Madame Olsheffsky's great-grandfather; and on +the other by the dim greenness of a pine forest, which stretched away +into the distance for mile after mile, until it seemed to melt into +the misty line of the horizon. + +Between the lake and the gardens of the great house, lay Viletna, with +its rough log houses, sandy street, and great Church, crowned with a +cupola like a gaily-painted melon; where Elena, Boris, and Daria, the +three children of Madame Olsheffsky, drove every Sunday with their +mother in the old-fashioned, tumble-down carriage. + +All the week the children looked forward to this expedition, for with +the exception of an occasional visit to Volodia Ivanovitch's shop in +the village, it was the only break in the quiet monotony of their +lives. + +They were allowed to go to Volodia's, whenever they had money enough +to buy anything; and often spent the afternoon there listening to his +long tales, and examining the contents of the shop, which seemed to +supply all that any reasonable person could wish for--from a ball of +twine to a wedding dress. + +Volodia himself, had been a servant at the great house many years +before, "when the place was kept up as a country gentleman's should +be"--he was fond of explaining to the children--"but when the poor +dear master was taken off to Siberia--he was as good as a saint, and +no one knew what they found out against him--then the Government took +all his money, and your mother had to manage as well as she could with +the little property left her by your grandfather. She ought to have +owned all the country round, but your great-grandfather was an +extravagant man, Boris Andreïevitch! and he sold everything he could +lay hands on!" + +Elena and Boris always listened respectfully. They had the greatest +opinion of "Uncle Volodia's" wisdom, and they could just remember the +time of grief and excitement when their father left them; but it had +all happened so long ago that though their mother often spoke of him, +and their old nurse Var-Vara was never tired of relating anecdotes of +his childhood, they had gradually begun to think of him, not as a +living person, but as one of the heroes of the old romances that still +lingered on the shelves of the dilapidated library. + +It was a happy life the children led in the great white house. It made +no difference to them that the furniture was old and scanty, that the +rooms were bare, and the plaster falling away in many places from the +walls and ceilings. + +Their mother was there, and all their old friends, and they wished for +nothing further. + +Was there not Toulu, the horse, in his stall in the ruined stable; +Tulipan, the Pomeranian dog, Adam, the old butler, and Alexis, the +"man of all work," who rowed their boat on the lake, tidied the +garden--as well as the weeds and his own natural laziness would allow +him--and was regarded by Boris as the type of all manly perfection! + +What could children want more? Especially as Volodia was always ready +at a moment's notice to tell them a story, carve them a peasant or a +dog from a chip of pine-wood, dance a jig, or entertain them in a +hundred other ways dear to the heart of Russian children. + + +CHAPTER II. + +On one of the clear dry days of an early Russian autumn, when a +brilliant glow of colour and sunshine floods the air, and the birch +trees turned to golden glories shake their fluttering leaves like +brilliant butterflies, Elena, Boris, and Daria, stood on one of the +wide balconies of the great house, with their mother beside them, +sorting seeds and tying them up in packets for the springtime. + +Some large hydrangeas, and orange trees, in green tubs, made a +background to the little scene. + +The eager children with clumsy fingers, bent on being useful; the +pale, thin mother leaning back in her garden chair smiling at their +absorbed faces. + +"Children, I have something I must tell you," commenced Madame +Olsheffsky, seriously, when the last seeds had been put away and +labelled. "It is something that will make you sad, but you must try +and bear it well for my sake, and for your poor father's--who I hope +will return to us one day. I think you are old enough to know +something about our affairs, Elena, for you are nearly thirteen. Even +my little Boris is almost eleven. Don't look so frightened, darling," +continued Madame Olsheffsky, taking little Daria in her arms, "it is +nothing very dreadful. I am obliged to enter into a lawsuit--a +troublesome, difficult lawsuit. One of our distant cousins has just +found some papers which he thinks will prove that he ought to have had +this estate instead of your grandfather, and he is going to try and +take it from us. I have sent a great box of our title deeds to the +lawyer in Viletna, and he is to go through them immediately--but who +knows how it may turn out? Oh, children! you must help me bravely, if +more ill-fortune is to fall upon us!" + +Elena rushed towards her mother, and threw her arms round her neck. +"We will! We will! Don't trouble about it, dear little mother," she +cried. "What does it matter if we are all together. _I_ will work and +dig in the garden, and Boris can be taught to groom Toulu, and be +useful--he really can be very sensible if he likes. Then Var-Vara will +cook, and Adam and Daria can do the dusting. Oh, we shall manage +beautifully!" + +Madame Olsheffsky smiled through some tears. + +"You are a dear child, Elena! I won't complain any more while I have +all my children to help me. But run now Boris, and tell Alexis to get +the boat ready. I must go to the other side of the lake, to see that +poor child who broke his arm the other day." + +Boris ran off to the stables with alacrity. He found it difficult to +realize all that his mother had just told them. "Of course it was very +dreadful," he thought, "but very likely it wouldn't come true. Then, +as Elena said, nothing mattered much if they were all together; and +perhaps, if they were obliged to move into the village, they might +live near Volodia's shop; and the wicked cousin might let them come +and play sometimes in the garden." + +"Alexis! Alexis!" he shouted into the hay loft, and a brown face with +a shock of black hair, appeared at one of the windows. + +"What is it, Boris Andreïevitch?" + +"Mamma wants the boat immediately," replied Boris. "She is going over +to see Marsha's sick child." + +Alexis took a handful of sunflower seeds out of his pocket, and began +to eat them meditatively, throwing the husks behind him. + +"The mistress won't go another day?" he enquired slowly. + +Boris shook his head. + +"The lake's overflowing, and the dam is none too strong over there by +Viletna," continued Alexis; "it would be better for her to wait a +little." + +"She says she must go to-day," said Boris, "but I will tell her what +you say." + +Madame Olsheffsky, however, refused to put off her visit; and Elena, +Boris, and Daria, looking out from the balcony, saw the boat with the +two figures in it start off from the little landing-place, and grow +smaller and smaller, until it faded away into a dim speck in the +distance. + + +CHAPTER III. + +Late that afternoon the three children were playing with Tulipan in +the garden, when they heard Volodia's well-known voice shouting to +them-- + +"Elena! Boris Andreïevitch!" + +They fancied he seemed to be in a great hurry, and as they flew +towards him, they noticed that he had no hat, and there was a look of +terror on his face that froze Elena's heart with the certainty of some +unknown but terrible misfortune. + +"The lake! the lake!" he panted; "where is the mistress?" + +"Gone to see Marsha's sick child," said Elena, clinging to little +Daria with one hand, and gazing at Volodia with eyes full of terror. + +"Ah, then it is true. It was her I saw! The poor mistress! Aïe! Aïe! +Don't move, children! Don't stir. Here is your only safety," cried +Volodia in piercing tones. "The river has flooded into the lake, and +the dam may go any moment. The village will be overwhelmed. Nothing +can save it! The water rises! rises! and any minute it may burst +through! The Saints have mercy! All our things will be lost; but it is +the will of God--we cannot fight against it." And Volodia crossed +himself devoutly with Russian fatalism. + +"But mamma! what will happen to her?" cried Elena passionately. "Can +nothing be done?" + +"To go towards the lake now would be certain death," replied Volodia +brokenly. "No, Elena Andreïevna; we must trust in God. He alone can +save her if she is on the water now! Pray Heaven she may not have +started!" + +As he spoke, a long procession of terrified peasants came winding up +the road towards the great house. All the inhabitants of the village +had fled from their threatened homes, and were taking refuge on the +only hill in the neighbourhood. + +Weeping, gesticulating and talking; the men, women, and children, +rushed on in the greatest state of confusion. + +Some carried a few possessions they had snatched up hastily as they +left their houses, some helped the old bed-ridden people to hobble +along on their sticks and crutches; others led the smaller children, +or carried the gaily-painted chests containing the holiday clothes of +the family; while the boys dragged along the rough unkempt horses, and +the few cows and oxen they had been able to drive in from the fields +close by. + +All, as they came within speaking distance of Elena and Boris, began +to describe their misfortunes; and such a babel of sound rose on the +air that it was impossible to separate one word from another. + +"Where shall they go to, _Matoushka_?"[B] enquired Volodia anxiously, +as the strange procession spread itself out amongst the low-growing +birch trees. + +[B] _Matoushka_--little mother. + +Elena shook herself, as if awakening from a horrible dream. + +"Oh, it is dreadful! dreadful! But you are welcome, poor people!" she +cried. "Put the horses into the stables--Adam will show you where--and +the dogs too; and come into the house all of you, if you can get in. +The cows must go to the yard. Oh, Var-Vara!" she added, as she turned +to her old nurse, who had just come out, attracted by the noise. "Have +you heard? Oh, poor mamma! Do you think she will be safe?" and Elena +rushed into the house, and up the stair of a wooden tower, from which +she could see for miles round, a wide vista of field, lake, and +forest. + +No boat was in sight, and the lake looked comparatively peaceful; but +just across the middle stretched an ominous streak of muddy, rushing +water, that beat against the high grass-grown dam, separating the lake +from the village, and threatened every moment to roll over it. + +Elena held her breath, and listened. There was a dull roaring sound +like distant thunder. + +The streak of brown water surged higher and higher; and suddenly--in +one instant, as it seemed to the terrified child--a vast volume of +water shot over the dam, seeming to carry it away bodily with its +violence; and with a crash like an earthquake, the pent-up lake burst +out in one huge wave, that rolled towards the village of Viletna, +tearing up everything it passed upon its way. + +Elena turned, and, almost falling downstairs in her terror, ran +headlong towards the group of peasants who had gathered on the grass +before the wooden verandah, and in despairing silence were watching +the destruction of their fields and houses. + +Beside them stood the old Priest, his long white hair shining in the +sunshine. + +"My children, let us pray to the good God for any living things that +are in danger!" he said. + +The peasants fell upon their knees. + +"Save them! Save them!" they cried, imploringly, "and save our cattle +and houses!" + +The blue sky stretched overhead, all round the garden the birch trees +shed their quivering glory; the very flowers that the three children +had picked for their mother, in the morning, lay on a table fresh and +unfaded; yet it seemed to Elena that years must have passed by since +she stood there, careless and happy. + +"Oh, Boris, come with me!" she cried, passionately, "I can't bear it!" + +Boris, with the tears falling slowly from his eyes, followed his +sister up to the tower, and there they remained till evening, +straining their eyes over the wide stretch of desolate-looking water. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +It was some months afterwards. The flood was over, and the people of +Viletna had begun to rebuild their log houses, and collect what could +be found of their scattered belongings. + +A portion of the great dyke had remained standing, so that the lake +did not completely empty itself; and the peasants were able, with some +help from the Government, to rebuild it. + +Everyone had suffered; but the heaviest blow had fallen upon the great +house, for Madame Olsheffsky never returned to it. Her boat had been +upset and carried away, with the sudden force of the current, and +though Alexis managed to save himself by clinging to an uprooted pine +tree, Madame Olsheffsky had been torn from him, and sucked under by +the rush of the furious water. + +Elena's face had grown pale and thin during these sad weeks, +and she and Boris looked older; for they had begun to face the +responsibilities of life, with no kind mother to stand between them +and the hard reality. + +To add to their misfortunes, the wooden box containing the title-deeds +of their estate, and all their other valuable papers; had been swept +away with the rest of Lawyer Drovnine's property, and there seemed no +chance that it would ever be recovered again. + +In the interval, as no defence was forthcoming, the lawsuit had been +decided in favour of the Olsheffsky's cousin; and the children were +now expecting every day to receive the notice that would turn them out +of their old home, and leave them without a place in the world that +really belonged to them. + +The few relations they had, made no sign to show they knew of their +existence; but they were not without friends, and one of the first and +truest of these was Volodia. + +"Don't trouble about this lawsuit, Elena Andreïevna," he said, on one +of his frequent visits to the great house. "If the wickedness of the +world is so great, that they rob you of what rightfully belongs to +you; take no notice of it--it is the will of God. _You_ will come down +with Boris Andreïevitch, and Daria Andreïevna, to my house, where +there is plenty of room for everyone; and my wife will be proud and +honoured. Then Var-Vara can live with her brother close by--a good +honest man, who is well able to provide for her; and Adam will hire a +little place, and retire with his savings. Alexis shall find a home +for Toulu--You know Alexis works for his father on the farm now, and +is really getting quite active. You see, _Matoushka_, every one is +nicely provided for, and no one will suffer!" + +"But how can we all live with you, when we have no money?" said Elena. +"Good, kind Volodia! It would not be fair for us to be a burden to +you!" + +"How can you talk of burdens, Elena Andreïevna! It's quite wrong of +you, and really almost makes me angry! Your grandfather gave me all +the money with which I started in life, and it's no more than paying +back a little of it. Besides, think of the honour! Think what a proud +thing it will be for us. All the village will be envious!" + +Elena smiled sadly. "I suppose we shall have a little money left, +shan't we, Volodia?" + +"Of course, _Matoushka_. Plenty for everything you'll want." + +And so, after much argument and discussion, with many tears and sad +regrets, the three children said good-bye to the great house; and +drove with Toulu down the hill for the last time, to Volodia's large +new wooden house, which had been re-built in a far handsomer style +than the log hut he had lived in formerly. + + +CHAPTER V. + +Fortunately the winter that year was late in coming, so that the +peasants of Viletna were able to build some sort of shelter for +themselves before it set in with real severity. + +Volodia's house, which stood in the centre of the village, had been +finished long before any of his neighbours'. + +"That's what comes of being a rich man," they said to each other, not +grumbling, but stating a fact. "He can employ what men he likes; it is +a fine thing to have money." + +Volodia's shop had always been popular, but with the arrival of the +three children it became ten times more so. + +Everyone wished to show sympathy for their misfortunes; and all those +who were sufficiently well off, brought a little present, and left it +with Volodia's wife, with many mysterious nods and explanations. + +"Don't tell _them_ anything about it, but just cook it. It's a chicken +we reared ourselves--one of those saved from the flood." + +Volodia would have liked to give the things back again, but his wife +declared this would be such an affront to the donors that she really +couldn't undertake to do it. + +"It's not for ourselves, Volodia Ivanovitch, but for those poor +innocent children; I can't refuse what's kindly meant. Many's the +_rouble_ Anna Olsheffsky (of blessed memory) has given to the people +here, and why shouldn't they be allowed to do their part?" + +Meanwhile, Elena and Boris, were getting slowly used to their changed +life. It still seemed more like a dream than a reality; but they began +to feel at home in the wooden house, and Elena had even commenced to +learn some needlework from Var-Vara, and to help Maria in as many ways +as that active old woman would allow of. + +"Don't you touch it, Elena Andreïevna," she would say, anxiously, +"it's not fit you should work like us. Leave it to Adam, and Var-Vara, +and me. We're used to it, and it's suitable." + +And so Elena had to give herself up to being waited upon as tenderly +by the old servants, as she had been during their time of happiness at +the great house. + +Boris had no time for brooding, for he was working hard at his lessons +with the village Priest; and as to little Daria, she had quickly +adapted herself to the new surroundings. + +She played with Tulipan, made snow castles in Volodia's side yard, and +whenever she had the chance, enjoyed a sledge drive with Alexis, in +the forest. + +"If only mamma were here, I should be quite happy," she said to Elena. +"It does seem so dreadful, Elena, to think of that horrible flood. You +don't think it will come again, do you?" + +Elena's eyes filled with tears, as she answered reassuringly. + +"You'll see mamma some day, Daria, if you're a very good girl; and +meantime, you know, she would like you to learn your lessons, and be +as obedient as possible to Var-Vara." + +"Well, I do try, Elena, but she is so tiresome sometimes. She won't +let me play with the village children! They're very nice, but she says +they're peasants. I'm sure I try to remember what you teach me, though +the things _are_ so difficult. I'm not so _very_ lazy, Elena!" + +Elena stooped her dark brown head over the little golden one. + +"You're a darling, Daria! I know you do your best, when you don't +forget all about it!" + +Volodia Ivanovitch had devoted his two best rooms to the children. He +had at first wished to give up the whole of his house to them, with +the exception of one bedroom; but Elena had developed a certain +strength of character and resolution during their troubles, and +absolutely refused to listen to this idea; so that finally the old man +was obliged to give way, and turn his attention to arranging the +rooms, in a style of what he considered, surpassing elegance and +comfort. + +They were plain and simple, with fresh boarded walls and pine floors. + +The furniture had all been brought from the great house, chosen by +Volodia with very little idea of its suitability, but because of +something in the colour or form that struck him as being particularly +handsome. + +A large gilt console table, with marble top, and looking glass, took +up nearly one side of Elena's bedroom; and a glass chandelier hung +from the centre of the ceiling--where it was always interfering with +the heads of the unwary. The bed had faded blue satin hangings; and a +large Turkish rug and two ricketty gilt chairs, completed an effect +which Uncle Volodia and his wife considered to be truly magnificent. + +Boris slept in the room adjoining. + +This was turned into a sitting-room in the daytime, and furnished in +the same luxurious manner. Chairs with enormous coats-of-arms, a vast +Dresden china vase with a gilt cover to it; and in the corner a gold +picture of a Saint with a little lamp before it, always kept burning +night and day by the careful Var-Vara--Var-Vara in her bright red +gold-bordered gown, and the strange tiara on her head, decorated with +its long ribbons. + +"If ever they wanted the help of the Saints, it's now," she would say, +as she filled the glass bowl with oil, and hung it up by its chains +again. "The wickedness of men has been too much for them. Aïe! Aïe! +It's the Lord's will." + + +CHAPTER VI. + +Volodia Ivanovitch's house stood close to the village street, so that +as Elena looked from her windows she could see the long stretch of +white road--the snow piled up in great walls on either side--the two +rows of straggling, half-finished log huts, ending with the ruined +Church, and the new posting-house. + +In the distance, the flat surface of the frozen lake, the dark green +of the pine forest, and the wide stretches of level country; broken +here and there by the tops of the scattered wooden fences. + +Up the street the sledges ran evenly, the horses jangling the bells on +their great arched collars, the drivers in their leather fur-lined +coats, cracking their whips and shouting. + +Now and then a woman, in a thick pelisse, a bright-coloured +handkerchief on her head, would come by; dragging a load of wood or +carrying a child in her arms. + +The air was stilly cold, with a sparkling clearness; the sky as blue +and brilliant as midsummer. + +Elena felt cheered by the exhilarating brightness. She was young, and +gradually she rose from the state of indifference into which she had +fallen, and began to take her old interest in all that was going on +about her. + +"I want to ask you something, Uncle Volodia," she said one day, as +they sat round the _samivar_,[C] for she had begged that they might +have at least one meal together, in the sitting-room. + +[C] Tea-urn. + +Maria was rather constrained on these occasions, seeming oppressed +with the feeling that she must sit exactly in the centre of her chair. +She spread a large clean handkerchief out over her knees, to catch any +crumbs that might be wandering, and fixed her eyes on the children +with respectful solemnity. + +Volodia, on the contrary, always came in smiling genially, in his old +homespun blouse and high boots; and was ready for a game with Daria, +or a romp with Boris, the moment the tea things had been carried away +by his wife. + +"What is it, Elena Andreïevna?" he asked. "Nothing very serious, I +hope?" + +"Not very, Uncle Volodia. It's only that I want to learn something--I +want to feel I can _do_ something when our money has gone, for I know +it won't last very long." + +"Why trouble your head about business, Elena Andreïevna? You know your +things sold for a great deal, and it is all put away in the wooden +honey-box, in the clothes chest. It will last till you're an old +woman!" + +"But I would like to _feel_ I was earning some money, Uncle Volodia. I +think I might learn to make paper flowers. Don't you think so, dear +Uncle Volodia? You know I began while mamma was with us; the lady in +Mourum taught me. I wish very much to go on with it." + +Uncle Volodia pondered. It might be an amusement for the poor girl, +and no one need know of the crazy notion of selling them. + +"If you like, _Matoushka_. Do just as you like," he said. + +So it was decided that Elena should be driven over to Mourum on the +next market day. + +Volodia had undertaken, in the intervals of shop-keeping, to teach +little Daria how to count; with the elaborate arrangement of small +coloured balls, on a wire frame like a gridiron, with which he added +up his own sums--instead of pencil and paper. + +They sat down side by side with the utmost gravity. Old Volodia with +the frame in one hand, Daria on a low stool, her curly golden head +bent forward over the balls, as she moved them up and down, with a +pucker on her forehead. + +"Two and one's five, and three's seven, and four's twelve, and +six's----" + +"Oh, Daria Andreïevna! You're not thinking about what you're doing!" + +"Oh, really I am, Uncle Volodia; but those tiresome little yellow +balls keep getting in the way." + +And then the lesson began all over again, until Daria sprang up with a +laugh, and shaking out her black frock, declared she had a pain in her +neck, and must run about a little! + +"What a child it is!" cried Volodia admiringly. "If she lives to be a +hundred, she'll never learn the multiplication table!" + + +CHAPTER VII. + +A post-sledge was gliding rapidly over the frozen road towards +Viletna; and as it neared the village, a thin worn man, with white +hair, who was sitting in it alone, leant forward and touched the +driver. + +"I want to go to the great house. You remember?" + +"Oh, you're going to see Mikhail? He hasn't come to the great house +yet, though. It's all being done up." + +"No, I'm going to Madame Olsheffsky's!" + +"Anna Olsheffsky! Haven't you heard she was drowned in the flood? +Washed away. Just before the children lost their property to that +thief of a cousin!" + +The driver went on adding the details, not noticing that the gentleman +had fallen back, and lay gasping as if for air. + +"You knew Anna Olsheffsky, perhaps?" he said at last, turning towards +the traveller. Then seeing his face, "Holy Saints! What is the matter? +He'll die surely, and no help to be had!" + +"She was my wife," said the gentleman hoarsely. "You don't remember +me? I am André Olsheffsky." + +"To think that I shouldn't have known you, _Barin!_" cried the driver +in great excitement, dropping the reins. "Not that it's much to be +wondered at, and you looking a young man when you left! Welcome home! +Welcome home!" + +"Where are the children?" said André Olsheffsky, brokenly. "Perhaps +they're dead, too?" + +"Oh, the children are all well, _Barin_! They are at Volodia +Ivanovitch's." + +"Drive me there, then," said Mr. Olsheffsky; and the sledge dashed off +with a peal of its bells, and drew up with a flourish in front of +Volodia's doorway. + +"Do look out, Elena!" cried Boris, who was carving a wooden man with +an immense pocket-knife. "Here's a sledge stopped, and a funny tall +gentleman getting out--not old, but all white!" + +Elena went to the window, but the stranger had disappeared into the +shop. + +They could hear voices talking, now loud, now soft, then a cry of +astonishment from Maria. The door burst open, and Volodia, his grey +hair flying, the tears rolling down his cheeks, dragged in the +white-haired gentleman by the hand. + +"Oh, children! children! this is a happy day. The _Barin's_ come home. +This is your father!" + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +The next morning Elena and Boris awoke with a delightful feeling of +expectation. + +It seemed impossible to realize that their father had really come back +to them, and that he was dearer and kinder than anything they had +imagined! + +"If only mamma were here," sighed Elena, "_how_ happy we should be!" + +"Perhaps she knows," said Boris soberly. "She always told us papa was +a hero, and I'm sure he looks like one." + +André Olsheffsky felt his wife's loss deeply. The children were his +only comfort, and every moment he could spare from his business +affairs he gave to them. + +With Elena he discussed their position seriously. + +It would be impossible, he said, to prove their claim to Madame +Olsheffsky's estate unless the lost box could be recovered, but if +that were ever found the papers inside would completely establish +their right. "I have sent notices to all the peasants, describing the +box, and offering a reward. Who knows, Elena? it _may_ be discovered!" + +Time passed on, and though Mr. Olsheffsky made many expeditions into +the town of Mourum, and drove all round the country, making enquiries +of the peasants, he could hear nothing of the wooden box. + +"It's one of the secrets of the lake," said Volodia. "That's my +opinion; it's lying snugly at the bottom there; and it's no good +looking for it anywhere else." + +But Mr. Olsheffsky continued his enquiries. + +One day, just as Daria and Var-Vara were about to start for a morning +walk--Elena and Boris having gone for a drive with their father--an +old man in a rough sheep-skin coat and plaited bark shoes came up to +the house door, and taking off his high felt hat respectfully, asked +if he could speak to the _Barin_.[D] + +[D] Master. + +"The master has gone out," said Var-Vara, "but I daresay you can see +him in the afternoon. Have you anything particular to ask him?" + +"Nothing to ask, but something to show," and the old man blinked his +eyes cunningly. + +"Not the wooden box!" screamed Daria. "Oh, let's go at once! Come, +Var-Vara! _What_ a surprise for papa when he gets back! _Is_ it the +wooden box? You might tell me," cried Daria, fixing her blue eyes on +the old _mujik_'s face pleadingly. + +"It may be, and it mayn't be," replied the old man. "You may come +along with me if you like, Daria Andreïevna. I'll show you the way to +where I live--near the forest, you know. Of course, I've heard all +about the reward," he continued, "and as I was clearing a bit of my +yard this morning, what should I find but a heap of something +hard--pebbles, and drift, and sticks, and such like. When I came to +sorting it out--for I thought, 'Why waste good wood, when you can burn +it? the good God doesn't like waste'--I struck against the corner of +something hard, and there was a----. Well, what do you think, Daria +Andreïevna?" + +"A box! A box!" cried Daria, seizing one of the old man's hands, and +dancing round him in an ecstasy of delight. + +"Not at all, Daria Andreïevna! The legs of an old chair." + +Daria's face fell. "I don't see why you come to tell papa you've found +an old chair!" she said crossly. + +"Stop a bit, _Matoushka_. There's more to come. Where was I?" + +"The chair! You'd just found it," said Daria, pulling at his hand +impatiently. + +"So I had. A chair! Well, it had no back, and as I pulled it out it +felt heavy, very heavy. It wasn't much to look at--a poor chair I +should call it--and I thought, '_This_ isn't much of a find;' but +there inside it was something sticking as tight as wax!" + +"The box!" cried Daria, "I felt sure of it!" and seizing Var-Vara by +one hand, and the _mujik_ by the other, she dragged them down the +street, the old peasant remonstrating and grumbling. + +"Not so fast, Daria Andreïevna!" said Var-Vara, gasping for breath at +the sudden rush. "Let Ivan go first; he knows the way!" + +Daria could scarcely control her impatience during the walk. + +"Make haste, Var-Vara! we shall never get there," she kept crying; and +old Var-Vara, who was stout, and had on a heavy fur pelisse, arrived +at the hut in a state of breathless exhaustion. + +"Aïe! Aïe! what a child it is! Show her the box now, Ivan, or we shall +have no peace." + +Ivan went to the corner of his hut, where a large object stood on the +top of the whitewashed stove under a red and yellow pocket-handkerchief. +He carefully uncovered it, and stepping back a few paces said proudly, + +"What do you think of _that_, now?" + +It was the box, safe and unhurt, Madame Olsheffsky's name still on it +in scratched white letters. + +Daria was wild with joy, and almost alarmed Ivan with her excitement. +She danced about the room, threw her arms round his neck, and finally +persuaded him to carry the box to Volodia's house, so that it might be +there as a delightful surprise to her father on his return. + + +CHAPTER IX. + +The children, Volodia and his wife, Var-Vara, and Adam; all stood +round eagerly as André Olsheffsky superintended the forcing open of +the precious box. + +"It's my belief the papers will be a pulp," whispered Volodia. "We +must be ready to stand by the _Barin_ when he finds out the +disappointment." + +But the papers were not hurt. The box contained another tin-lined +case, in which the parchments had lain securely, and though damaged in +appearance, they were as legible as the day on which they were first +written. + +"Oh, papa, I _am_ so glad!" shouted Boris and Daria; and Elena +silently took her father's hand. + +"I always thought the _Barin_ would have his own again," cried Volodia +triumphantly, forgetting that only a moment before he had been full of +dismal prophecies. + +Adam and Var-Vara wept for joy, and Ivan stood by smiling +complacently. He felt that all this happiness had been brought about +entirely by his own exertions, and he already had visions of the +manner in which he would employ the handsome reward. + +"No more troubling about my old age," he thought. "I shall have as +comfortable a life as the best of them." + +That evening Mr. Olsheffsky started for Moscow, carrying the +parchments with him. + +The two months of his absence seemed very long to the children, though +they heard from him constantly; and there were great rejoicings when +he returned with the news that their affairs had at last been +satisfactorily settled. Mikhail Paulovitch had withdrawn his claim, +and the great house was their own again. + +All the peasants of the neighbourhood came in a body to congratulate +them. Those who could not get into Volodia's little sitting-room +remained standing outside, and looked in respectfully through the +window; while the spokesman read a long speech he had prepared for the +occasion. + +Mr. Olsheffsky made an appropriate reply, and then, turning to Volodia +and the old servants, he thanked them in a few simple words for their +goodness to the children. + +"You might have knocked me flat down with a birch twig," said Uncle +Volodia afterwards, when talking it over with Adam. "The idea of +thanking _us_ for what was nothing at all but a real pleasure! He's a +good man, the _Barin_!" + +The springtime found the children and their father settled once more +in their old home, with Adam, Var-Vara, and Alexis; and life flowing +on very much as it had always done, except for the absence of the +gentle, motherly, Anna Olsheffsky. + +Uncle Volodia continued to look after his shop with zeal; and the two +rooms with the gilt furniture, which Mr. Olsheffsky had insisted on +his not removing, became objects of the greatest pride and joy to him. + +He never allowed anyone but himself to dust them, and in spare moments +he polished the looking-glass with a piece of leather, kept carefully +for the purpose in a cigar box. + +"It's a great pleasure to me," he remarked one day to a neighbour, "to +think that when I leave this house to Boris Andreïevitch--as I intend +to do, after old Maria--it will have two rooms that are fit for_any_one +of the family to sleep in. He'll never have to be ashamed of _them_!" + +On his seventieth birthday, Elena--now grown a tall slim young lady, +with grave brown eyes--persuaded him that it was really time to take a +little rest, and enjoy himself. + +He thereupon sold his stock, and devoted himself to gardening in the +yard at the back of his house; where he would sit on summer evenings +smoking his pipe, in the midst of giant dahlias and sunflowers. + +Here Daria often came with Boris and Tulipan; and sitting by Uncle +Volodia's side, listened to the well-known stories she had heard since +her babyhood--always ending up with the same words in a tone of great +solemnity-- + +"And _this_, children, is a true story, every word of it!" + + + + +THE ANGEL AND THE LILIES. + +A Norwegian Story. + +It was a room at the top of a rough wooden house in Norway. Though it +was only a garret, it was all very white and clean; and little Erik +Svenson lay in the small bed facing the barred window, through which +the moonbeams streamed till they seemed to turn the walls into +polished silver. + +As Erik tossed about, he heard his mother working in the room below. + +The _thump, thump,_ of her iron, as she wearily finished the last of +the clothes, that must be sent home to the rich family at the +farmhouse, early next morning. + +"Poor mother! how hard she works," thought Erik, "and I can't do more +than mind Farmer Torvald's boat on the fiord. If I could only be +employed in the town, I might be able to help her!" + +_Thump_, _thump_, went the iron. The clock chimed twelve, and still +the poor washerwoman smoothed and folded, though her heavy eyes almost +refused to keep open, and the room began to feel the chill of the +frosty air outside. + +"Erik sha'n't want for anything while I have two arms to work for +him," she said to herself; and went on until the iron fell from her +tired hand, and she sank back in her chair in a deep sleep. + +Erik, too, had closed his eyes, and was dreaming happily, when he was +awakened by the brush of something light and soft, across his pillow. + +Starting up, he saw that the moon was still brilliant, and in its +clearest rays stood a faint white figure, with shadowy wings +outstretched behind it. + +A vapoury garment enveloped it, and the face seemed young and +beautiful. + +"Oh, how wonderful! How wonderful you are!" cried Erik. "Why have I +never seen you before?" + +"I am Vanda, the Spirit of the Moon," said the Angel gently. "Only to +those who are in need of help can I become visible. Your mother knows +me well. Winter and summer, I have soothed her to sleep; and to-night, +as you looked from the window, your thoughts joined mine, and I was +able to come to you. What will you ask of me?" + +"Oh, Vanda, dear Vanda! Show me how to help my mother; I ask nothing +else!" cried Erik. + +He jumped from his bed, and threw himself at the feet of the shadowy +Angel. + +"Do you see that window?" said the Moon-Spirit, pointing to the small +panes that were now covered with a delicate tracery of glittering +frost-work. "Of what do those patterns remind you?" + +[Illustration] + +"Of flowers!" cried Erik. "I have often thought so. Sometimes I can +see grasses, and boughs, and roses, but _always_ lilies, because they +are so white and spotless." + +The Angel smiled softly. + +"To-night I shall shine upon them, and make them live," she said. +"Take what you will find upon the window sill at sunrise, and sell +them in the town. Bring the money back to your mother at night-time." + +With the last words the Moon-Spirit melted into the white light, +leaving Erik with a feeling of the happiest expectation. + +Long before daybreak he was awake, and his first thought was of the +wonderful ice-flowers. Would the Angel have kept her promise? What +would he see awaiting him? + +As the rays of the sun shot over the fiord, he sprang out of bed and +ran to the window. There lay a bunch of beautiful white lilies, +nestling in a mass of delicate moss-like green. + +"They _are_ the frost-flowers!" cried Erik, and wild with joy he +rushed into his mother's room, and held the bunch up for her to look +at. + +"Look, look, mother! See what we have had given us. We shall soon have +enough money to rent the little farm you have always been longing +for!" + + * * * * * + +Erik's visit to the town was very successful. He sold his flowers +directly, although he had some difficulty in answering all the +questions of the townspeople, who wanted to know where he had grown +such delicate things in the middle of a severe winter. To everyone he +replied that it was a secret; and they were obliged to be contented. + +He returned home in good time for his work upon the fiord, and if it +had not been for the store of silver pieces he poured into his +mother's work-box, he would almost have imagined that he had only been +dreaming. + +That night, as he laid his curly head upon the pillow, his mind was +full of thoughts about the Moon-Angel. He wondered if she would appear +again, and whether she would once more leave him her gift of the white +frost-flowers. + +The moon shone with silvery clearness into the garret; and as the boy +strained his eyes towards the window, the bright form slowly floated +through the bars and stretched a pale hand towards him. + +"You have done well, to-day, Erik. Look to-morrow, and to-morrow, and +to-morrow, until my light has waned and faded; and every day you will +find the lilies waiting for you." + +Again Erik felt the soft brush of Vanda's wings, and she disappeared +in the path of the moonbeams. + +The next morning the flowers lay fresh and fair upon the window-sill, +and for days the frost-lilies were always blooming. + +But each time the bunch grew smaller and smaller, until at last, when +the moon was nothing more than a thread of brightness, Erik found one +single blossom lying half drooping on the window-frame. + +"Vanda's gifts have ended," thought Erik, "but she has been a good +true friend to us! We have gained enough money for my mother to put +away her iron, and take the little farmhouse by the fiord. How happy +we shall be together." + + * * * * * + +The winter was nearly over, and Erik and his mother had settled down +to their happy life in the farmhouse. + +Frost-flowers, with delicate fantastic groupings, still bloomed upon +the window-panes; but the Moon-Angel was not there to give them her +fairy-like gifts of life and beauty. + +She had gone to console other struggling workers. + + + + +THE ALPEN-ECHO. + +Long, long years ago, a young girl wandering with her herd of goats +upon the Mettenalp, lost her way amidst a mountain storm, and fell +into a chasm of the rock, where she lay white and lifeless. + +The terrified goats reached the valley beneath, but the young girl was +never again heard of. + +The spirits of the great mountain had claimed her for an Alpen-Echo, +and every day, for hundreds of years after, she floated amongst the +snow-covered peaks and crags of the Mettenalp, answering every horn +that sounded from the hunters or cow-herds, with a soft, sweet note, +so sad and distant it was like a soul in pain, and tears came to your +eyes--you knew not why--as you listened to its exquisite music. + +"Come, follow me! Follow me to my secret haunts," wailed the Echo. +"Give me my soul! Give me my soul!"--but no one through all the +centuries had ever climbed to the Echo's hiding-place. + +"If _only_ I could make them understand!" sobbed the Echo, "my long +bondage would cease. The first foot that treads my prison, frees me, +and gives me rest." + + * * * * * + +However, all the world was too busy to listen to the poor Echo, and +she called and cried in vain through the misty ages! + + * * * * * + +A boy, with a long Alpen-horn in his hand, stood by a châlet far away +in the wilds of Switzerland. Every now and then he blew a few wailing +notes upon the horn--notes that echoed across the valley, up to the +snow-covered heights beyond--and he smiled as the answer floated +clearly back again. + +"The echoes are talking together, to-day," he said to himself. "They +love the bright air and the sunshine;" and again he blew a long, +changing note, that died away softly into the far distance. + +"_Tra-la-la-a-a_" came faintly from the opposite mountain--but to the +boy's astonishment the echo did not now cease, and fade away, as it +always had done before. It shifted from point to point; its elfin +tones ringing sweet and sad like the bugle of a Fairy Huntsman. + +All that day the Echo sounded in the boy's ears, all night it +whispered amongst the mountain tops; and as soon as it became daylight +he sprang up, determined that he would climb the side of the opposite +valley, and find out the reason of the strange music. + +A pale-green light tinged the sky, the mountains looked dark and +forbidding, and from the peaks above came the soft sighing of the +distant Echo. + +"It is like a soul in pain," thought the boy. "I _must_ find out what +it means!" and he began to climb higher and higher, until the valley +lay far beneath him, and his home looked a little brown speck amidst a +sea of fields and pine trees. + +Before him still sounded the Elfin voice, now dying into a whisper, +now ringing clear and distinct, as though close beside him--but always +with the same beseeching sadness: "Follow me! Follow me to my secret +haunts! Give me my soul! Give me my soul!" And the boy climbed on +until he reached the rocky crag which formed the summit of the +mountain. + +"At last!" he cried, as he stretched out his arms to clasp the Echo's +fairy-like form that floated mistily before him ... but the Echo had +faded from his sight as he approached her; and her last words were +borne faintly towards him as she vanished into the golden glory of the +sunshine-- + +"At last! At last! I am at rest at last!" + + * * * * * + +The boy had learnt the secret of the Alpen-Echo. He had freed her soul +from its long bondage, and a few days afterwards they found him lying +with a smile upon his face on the topmost peak of the Mettenalp. + + + + +THE SCROLL IN THE MARKET PLACE. + +In the pale light of the moon the sleeping town lay hushed and +noiseless. At its foot the river rolled, spanned by the curves of the +old grey stone bridge, and behind rose the giant hills, clothed with +tracts of pine and birch trees. A high wall surrounded the town, with +towers at intervals, from which gleamed the light of the watchmen's +lanterns. + +All was silent on the earth and in the air, when through the deep blue +of the star-sprinkled sky a little Child-Angel winged his way from +Heaven, and hovering over the steep red roofs beneath him, folded his +wings and dropped softly into the deserted Market Place. In his hand +he held a Scroll with strange writing upon it, and crossing the Square +over the rough cobblestones, he fixed the paper to the Fountain, and +spreading his white wings, flew up again to the home from which he +came. + +Next day the country people flocking into the Market Place saw to +their astonishment a track of beautiful white flowers springing up +from amongst the cobblestones, and stretching from one corner of the +Square to the Fountain. + +They were star-like flowers, with bright-green leaves, and they grew +in patches--"like a child's footsteps," the women said. + +A little crowd soon gathered round the paper fastened to the ancient +Fountain. On the top of the Scroll was written, very clearly--"All +those who can read the words beneath shall be rewarded generously," +but the lines that followed were in a strange language, and in such +crabbed characters that they defied every effort to decipher them. + +All day the crowd ebbed and flowed round the Fountain, while the +learned men of the town came with their dictionaries under their arms +and spectacles on nose, and sat on stools, attempting to make out the +crooked letters of the inscription. + +In the end each one decided upon a different language, and the +argument became so warm between them that they had to be separated by +a party of watchmen, and conducted back again to their own houses. + +Professors from the University on the other side of the mountains +journeyed over the rough roads, and brought their learning to the old +stone Fountain in the Market Place--but they, too, went away +discomfited. + +No one could read the strange writing, and no one could pull down the +paper, for it appeared to be fixed to the stone by some means that +made it impossible to tear it away. + +Time went on, and the snow covered up the Market Square, threw a white +mantle over the steep roofs, and buried the old gardens in its soft +deepness. + +In one of the houses near the spot where the little Angel had first +touched the earth lived a poor, lonely woman. She worked all day at +some fine kind of needlework, but when, in the evenings, the sun had +set and the twilight began to fall, she would steal out for a few +minutes to breathe the fresh air. Often, though she was so wearied +with her incessant stitching, she would carry in her hand a flower +from the plants that grew in her latticed window to a neighbour's sick +child. It was a weary climb up a steep flight of stairs to the attic +where the sick child lay, but it was reward enough to the woman to see +the bright smile that lighted up the little drawn face as she laid the +flower on the counterpane. + +All the summer the poor sempstress had been too busy during the +daylight, to afford time even to cross the Square to study the strange +paper on the Fountain. "If learned men cannot read it, a poor ignorant +woman like me could certainly never do so," she said to the child, and +the little girl looked up at her with tender love in her eyes. + +"You are so good, you could do _anything_," she whispered, and clasped +the worn hand on which the needle-pricks had left the marks of many +long years of patient sewing. "I should like to see the paper so +much," continued the child, after a thoughtful pause. "I wish I could +walk there, but it is so long since I walked, and the snow is so deep +now," and she sighed. + +"Some day, if the good God pleases, I will carry you there," said the +workwoman--and the child as she lay patiently on her little bed, +dreamt and dreamt of the mysterious paper that no one could read, +until the longing to see it became uncontrollable, and her friend the +sempstress promised that she would spare an hour the next day from her +work, and if the sun shone she would carry the invalid across the +Market Place to the old stone Fountain. + +The next morning the child's face was bright with anticipation, as the +woman wrapped her in a warm shawl and carried her fragile weight down +the staircase. The cobblestones hurt the poor sempstress's feet, and +she staggered under the light burden, but she persevered, for the +child's murmurs of delight rang in her ears-- + +"How sweetly the sun shines! How white the snow looks! How beautiful, +how _beautiful_ it is to be alive!" + +When they reached the Fountain the sun shone brightly upon the Angel's +Scroll. + +The workwoman seated herself on one of the swept stone steps, still +holding the child in her arms, and they gazed long and earnestly at +the writing above them. + +Gradually a smile of delight spread across both their faces. "It is +quite, _quite_ easy!" they cried together. "How is it people have been +puzzling so long?"--for as they looked the crabbed letters unrolled +before them, straightened, and arranged themselves in order, and the +Angel's message was read by the poor workwoman and the sick child. + +"Love God, and live for others," said the Scroll, and a soft light +seemed to stream from it and shed a glow of happiness right into the +hearts of the two who read it. The air was warmer, the sun shone more +brightly, and just by the foot of the Fountain, pushing through the +snow, sprang one blue head of palest forget-me-not. + +As the letters on the Scroll became plainer and plainer, the paper +slowly rolled up and shrunk away, until it had disappeared altogether. + +The sempstress carried back the child up the steep staircase, laid her +tenderly on her bed, and hurried away to her own attic. + +In her absence strange things had happened. The room was swept and +tidy, the flowers were watered, and the piece of work she had left +half done was lying finished on the broad window seat. The poor woman +looked round her in astonishment. She went downstairs to enquire if +any neighbours had prepared this surprise for her, but they only +stared at her, and told her "she must have left her wits in the Market +Place," and that "that was what came of leaving your own duties to +look after other people's." + +The sempstress did not listen to their taunts, for a song of joy was +welling up in her heart--a song so sweet and true, it might have been +the echo of that sung by the angels. Never had life seemed so +beautiful to her. The ill looks of the neighbours appeared to her to +be smiles of kindness and love; their hard speeches sounded soft and +altered; the steep stairs to her room were not so steep, her attic not +so bare and desolate. Life was no longer lonely, for the song in her +heart brought her all the happiness she had ever hoped for. + +The sick child, too, found the same wonderful change in all that +surrounded her. The aunt with whom she lived, who had always been so +careless and unloving, now seemed to the child to be kind and gentle. +Her aching back was less painful, her thoughts as she lay on her bed +were bright and happy. The Angel's message had brought sunshine to the +lives of the only two who could read and understand it. + + * * * * * + +In time the sick child went to live with the sempstress, and their +love for each other grew and strengthened, and overflowed in a +thousand little acts of kindness to all who came near them. Their room +was filled with brightness. The birds flew to perch on the window-sill +and sing in the early mornings; flowers bloomed in the cracks of the +old stonework; the sempstress sang as she worked, and whenever she +left her sewing to carry the child out into the Market Place to +breathe the fresh air she would find her work finished when she +returned. + +"It was a happy day that we read the message in the Market Place," she +said to the sick child; "indeed we have been rewarded generously." + + + + +A SCRAP OF ETRUSCAN POTTERY. + +Deep down in a buried Etruscan tomb there lay a little three-cornered +piece of pottery. + +It had some letters on it and a beautiful man's head, and had belonged +to a King some three thousand years ago. + +Its only companions were a family of moles; for everything else had +been taken out of the tomb so long ago that no one remembered anything +about it. + +"What a dull life mine is," groaned the piece of pottery. "No +amusement, and no society! It's enough to make one smash oneself to +atoms!" + +"Dull, but safe," replied the Mole, who never took the least notice of +the three-cornered Chip's insults. "And then, remember the dignity. +You have the whole tomb to yourself." + +"Except for you," said the Chip ungraciously. + +"Well, we must live somewhere," said the Mole, quite unmoved, "and I'm +sure we don't interfere. I always bring up my children to treat you +with the greatest respect, in spite of your being cr-r--br-r--. I +_should_ say, not quite so large as you used to be." + +"If only you had belonged to a King," sighed the Chip, "I might have +had someone of my own class to talk to." + +"I don't wish to belong to a King," said the Mole. "There's nothing I +should dislike more. I am for a Liberal Government, and no farming." + +"What vulgarity!" cried the Chip. + +"It's a blessing it's dark, and he can't see the children laughing," +thought the Mole-mother, "or I don't know what would happen." + +"Everything that belonged to a King should be treated with Royal +respect," continued the Chip. + +"As to that, I really haven't time for it," replied the Mole; "what +with putting the children to bed, and getting them up again, and all +my work in the passages, I can't devote myself to Court life." + +"If you like, you can represent the people," said the Chip. "_I_ don't +mind, only then I can't talk to you." + +"You can read out Royal Decrees, and make laws," said the Mole; and to +herself she added, "It won't disturb me. I shan't take any notice of +them." + +"Who's to be nobles?" said the Chip, crossly. "I'd rather not do the +thing at all, if it can't be done properly!" + +"Well, I can't be people and nobles too, that's quite certain," +remarked the Mole-mother, as she tidied up her house. "Besides, the +children are too young--they wouldn't understand." + +"What's it like up above?" enquired the Chip languidly after a short +pause, for it was almost better to speak to the Mole, than to nobody. +"People still walk on two legs?" + +"Why, of course," answered the Mole, "there's never any difference in +people, that _I_ can see. They're always exactly alike, except in +tempers." + +The Chip was sitting upon a little stone-heap against one of the +pillars. He fondly imagined it was a Throne; and the Mole-mother, with +the utmost good nature, had never undeceived him. + +As the last words were spoken, a lump of earth fell from the roof, +flattening out the stone-heap, and the Chip only escaped destruction +by rolling on one side, where he lay shaking with fright and calling +to the Mole-mother to help him. But the Mole had retired with her +family to a place of safety. She knew what was happening. The tomb was +being opened by a party of antiquarians, and in a few more minutes the +blue sky shone into the darkness, and the three-cornered piece of +pottery was lying wrapped in paper in the pocket of one of the +explorers. + + * * * * * + +When the Chip recovered himself, he found he was reclining on the +velvet floor of a large glass case full of Etruscan vases. Here was +the society he had been pining for all his life! + +"What are Moles compared to this?" he said to himself, and quivered +with joy at the thought of the pleasures before him. + +"How did that broken thing come into our Division?" enquired a Red +Dish with two handles. + +"I can't imagine! The Director put him in just now," replied a Black +Jug. "It's not what we're accustomed to. Everything in here is +perfect." + +The Chip lay for a moment, dumb with horror and astonishment. + +"I belonged to a King," he gasped at last. "You can look at the name +written on me." + +"You may have names written all over you, for all I care," said the +Dish. "You're a Chip, and no King can make you anything else"--and she +turned away haughtily. + +"And to think that for all those years the Mole-mother was never once +rude to me!" thought the Chip. "She was a person of _real_ refinement. +Whatever shall I do if I have to be shut up with these ill-bred +people?" he groaned miserably. + +"How the woodwork does creak!" said the Director as he came up to the +glass case, with a young lady to whom he was showing the treasures of +the Museum. + +"That's the most recent discovery," he continued smiling and pointing +to the three-cornered piece of pottery--"All I found in my last +digging." + +"It has a beautiful head on it," said the young lady, "I should be +quite satisfied if I could ever find anything so pretty." + +"Will you have it?" said the Director of the Museum, who after all was +only a young man; looking at the young lady earnestly. + +She took the despised Chip in her little hand. + +"Thank you very much. It will be a great treasure," she said--and +looking up at her face, the three-cornered piece of pottery knew that +a happy life was in store for him. + + * * * * * + +"In spite of the rudeness of my own people, I am in the Museum after +all," remarked the Chip, as some months afterwards he hung on a +bracket on the wall of the young lady's sitting room. "In what a +superior position, too! _They_ only belong to the Director, but _I_ +belong to the Director's wife!" + + + + +THE GOATS ON THE GLACIER. + + +CHAPTER I. + +The Heif Goats lived close to the Heifen Glacier, one of the largest +in Switzerland. In fact, their Châlet, or the cavern which they +christened by that name, overhung the steepest precipice, and was +inaccessible to anyone except its proprietors. + +"It is such a comfort to be secluded in these disturbed times," the +Goat-mother often remarked to her husband. "If I lived near a high +road I should never know a _moment's_ happiness. The children are so +giddy, they would be gambolling about round the very wheels of the +char-à-bancs, turning head over heels for halfpence, before I could +cry Goats-i-tivy!" + +The whole glacier valley swarmed with the kin of the Goat family. +There were the bond-slaves who worked for the peasants, and the free +Goats who possessed their own caves, cultivated their ground +industriously, and lived greatly on the sandwich papers left by +tourists in the summer-time. + +"Such a treat, especially the light yellow sort with printing, that +always has crumbs in it," said the Goat-mother. "It makes a delicious +meal. We generally have it on fête days." + +The family of the Heif Goats consisted of the Heif-father, his wife, +and their four children, Heinrich, Lizbet, Pyto, and Lénora. + +The young Goats had been brought up with some severity by their +parents, who had old-fashioned notions with regard to discipline; and +three things had been especially enjoined upon them from their +infancy. Always to speak the truth, never to mess their clean +pinafores, and last, but not least, _never_ to play with the Chamois! + +"They are too wild and frivolous," the Goat-mother used to say, with a +nod of her frilled cap. "Such very long springs are in exceedingly bad +taste. The Chamois have _no_ repose of manner." + +Under this system the children grew up very well-behaved. The +daughters worked in the house, the sons helped their father; and in +the evening they all descended to the Glacier to collect any remnants +of food left by the endless stream of visitors, who all through the +summer toiled up to the Eismeer, and down again to the Inn on the +other side of the valley. + +These travellers were a perpetual source of interest and amusement to +the Goat family. + +They could never quite make out what they were doing, but the +Heif-mother finally decided that their journeys must be some religious +or national observance. + +"People would never struggle about on the ice like that--tied to each +other with ropes, too!--unless it was a painful duty," she said. "I +consider it very praiseworthy." + +Sometimes the young Goats in their invisible eyrie, would go off into +shouts of merriment as a group of excursionists crawled slowly into +sight; the ladies in their short skirts and large flapping hats, +alpenstock in hand, clinging desperately to the guides as they +ascended every slippery ice-peak. + +But on these occasions the Goat-mother always reproved them. + +"Remember," she would say severely, "that because people are +ridiculous you shouldn't be unmannerly. They can't help their +appearance, poor things! They may think themselves quite as good as we +are." + +"Well, at all events, we don't look like _that_," said Lizbet. "I am +sure you would never allow it." + +The principal news from the outer world was brought to the Heif family +by a Stein-bok pedlar, who wandered about the country with his wares, +and was so popular that he was a friend of all classes, and supplied +even the Chamois with their groceries and tobacco. + +He generally arrived at the Châlet on the first of every month, and +spread out his wares on the grass plot in front of the cave, while the +Goat-mother and her children walked up and down, and bargained +good-humouredly for anything they had taken a fancy to. + + +CHAPTER II. + +It was a bright sunny day, and the Goat-mother sat with her daughters +at the door of the cavern. The Goat-father had gone off by himself to +get some provisions at a village on the opposite side of the Glacier, +and Heinrich and Pyto were digging in the fields at the back of the +Châlet; when the Stein-bok, in his well-known brown cloth coat, +appeared panting up the narrow pathway. + +Throwing himself down on a stone bench, he tossed his Tyrolese hat on +to the ground, and fanned himself with his handkerchief. + +"Good morning, Herr Stein-bok. You seem exhausted," said the +Goat-mother. + +"I am, ma'am, and well I may be. Five miles with twenty pounds on my +back is no joke, I can assure you." + +"Shall I bring you a glass of lager-beer?" enquired the Heif-mother. + +"It would be acceptable, ma'am, and then I will tell you my news. +You've heard nothing of the Goat-father, have you?" + +"Nothing," said the Goat-mother. "I am beginning to feel very nervous. +I never knew him to stay away two days before." + +The Stein-bok looked round darkly. + +"I have something to tell you," he whispered. "Prepare for bad news. +The Goat-father has been captured." + +The Heif-mother gave a wild shriek, and fell back upon Lizbet, who was +peeling potatoes in the doorway. + +"When--where--how--who--what?" she cried frantically. "Tell me at +once, or I shall faint away." + +"Be calm, ma'am," said the Stein-bok soothingly. "I heard it from the +Chamois, who have a habit of bounding about everywhere, as you know. +Your dear husband reached the middle of the Glacier in safety, +when--being hampered by a satchel and a green cotton umbrella--he fell +in attempting to jump an ice-pinnacle, and sprained his foot so +severely that he was unable to move. Though he bleated loudly for +help, no one came except some huntsmen who were in search of Chamois. +They picked him up, and dragged him to the Inn on the other side of +the valley, where he was locked up securely in a shed, and there he is +at the present moment." + +"My brave Heif in prison! He will never, never survive it!" cried the +Goat-mother, shedding tears in profusion. + +"Oh yes he will, ma'am," replied the Stein-bok, "they're not going to +kill him, their idea is to take him down to the village." + +"_That_ they shall never do!" cried the Heif-mother, starting up, "not +if I go myself to rescue him! Go, Lizbet, and call your brothers. We +must consult together immediately." + +Lizbet darted off, and the Stein-bok continued. + +"I have still something else I must let you know, ma'am. As our great +poet observes-- + + 'Whenever green food fades away, + Some dire misfortune comes the self-same day.' + +In plain words, troubles never come singly. I discovered while having +a friendly game of dominoes with the Head Chamois, that they intend to +seize upon your house next Tuesday, in the absence of the +Heif-father." + +"And to-day is Friday!" shrieked the Goat-mother. "Oh! this is hard +indeed!" + +[Illustration] + +"Compose yourself, ma'am, and listen to my advice," said the Pedlar. +"You lock up your house, or leave me in charge with Lizbet and Lénora, +and you and the two other children start off at once to ask the help +of the Goat-king. He is a mild, humane creature, and will very likely +order out a detachment of the 'Free-will' goats to help to defend your +household." + +"That is the only thing to do," said the Goat-mother mournfully. "I +certainly know the way, for of course I have always been to the yearly +Goat Assembly, but I always started three days before the meeting, and +went down the back of the mountain, over the slopes. I don't know how +I'm to manage the short cut." + +"Oh, easy enough, ma'am," replied the Stein-bok; "you'll get on very +well. Don't go in goloshes, though, for they will be sure to catch on +the nails. I wouldn't wear my waterproof mantle either--too large for +a walking tour. Put on a shawl, and tie it round you." + +By this time Heinrich and Pyto had hastily dressed themselves in +out-door costume, and the Goat-mother was rushing about her house, +collecting an extraordinary number of things, which the Stein-bok had +some difficulty in persuading her not to take with her. + +"_Not_ sugar nippers, ma'am, I _beg_; or your large work-box, or the +mincing machine! Quite useless on a long journey; and your best cap +you won't want, I assure you." + +"I thought I might perhaps wait a moment in the ante-room and put it +on before entering the presence of Royalty," bleated the Goat-mother. +"But no doubt you know best." + +The luggage was at last reduced to a small leather handbag; and the +Goat-mother, after solemnly bestowing her blessing on Lizbet and +Lénora, and the door-key on the Stein-bok, set off down the garden +path with her children, upon their adventures. + + +CHAPTER III. + +Meanwhile, the Goat-father was languishing in a dark shed attached to +the Inn on the other side of the Glacier. His bleats had failed to +attract any attention. In fact the only person who had heard him at +all, had been an old Goat-slave, who while browsing on the hillside +with a bell round his neck, had been attracted by the cries, and +creeping up to the shed, peeped through a crack to see what could be +the matter. + +"Is there anyone near?" enquired the Goat-father in a whisper. + +"No. There's a party in the Inn, but they are too busy eating to take +any notice of us. I am just loitering here, in case there should be +any pieces of sandwich paper flying about." + +"Is there any chance of my making my escape?" enquired the +Heif-father. "Are they very watchful people?" + +"Excessively so," replied the old Slave. "I've never been able to get +away for the last ten years." + +The Goat-father groaned. "Then it wouldn't be possible for you to take +a message to my family?" + +"Quite impossible, my dear friend, I assure you. Can't you find any +crack in the shed where you could break through?" + +"There's _nothing_," cried the Goat-father. "I've searched round and +round, and the door is as strong and tight as a prison." + +"Well, I'll go off and see if I can find a messenger," said the old +Slave good-naturedly. "Perhaps the old fox would manage it." + +"A fox! Oh, I don't think _that_ would do," said the Heif-father. "It +mightn't be safe for my family." + +"Oh, _he's_ all right," said the Slave. "He's been in captivity so +long, it's taken all the spirit out of him. He might live in a +farmyard. He's a good-natured creature, too, and I daresay he'll go to +oblige me." + +The Goat-father pulled a band and buckle off his necktie, and poked it +under the door. + +"Not to eat!" he whispered warningly, "but for the fox to take with +him, that my wife may know the message comes from me; and be quick +about it, my good friend, for I really am positively starving!" + +"All right," said the old Goat, "I'll send the fox off, and come back +in a few minutes to bring you some stale cabbage leaves." + +"A friend in need, is a friend indeed!" murmured the Goat-father; and +went to sleep that night with more hope than he had felt since the +moment of his capture. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +"Come along, mother," cried Heinrich, grasping the Heif-mother's hand +as they left the garden before their Châlet, and commenced the +dangerous descent of the mountain. + +Far below them they could see the great stretch of the dazzlingly +white Glacier, with its rents and fissures shining greenly in the +sunshine. On either side rose bare crags topped with grass, and above +all, the snowy summits of the mountains. + +The first part of the journey led along a narrow pathway, which the +Goat-mother managed very successfully, but when they came to the +precipice on which rough iron spikes had been driven at long intervals +to assist the climber, her heart failed her, and in spite of her +desire to hurry, she entangled her shawl and dress so constantly on +the nails, that her children began to fear she would never reach the +level of the Glacier. + +At last, however, the little party succeeded in making their way +across the Eismeer, and arrived without further mishap at the river +leading to the Goat-King's Palace. + +This river flowed on the centre of the Glacier, between steep banks +of transparent ice, every now and again disappearing into some vast +cavern, where it swept with a hollow echoing under the ice-field. + +"Follow me, mother," said Heinrich. "I see the entrance to the Palace +just in front of us." + +The Goat-mother gathered up her skirts, and assisted by Pyto, began to +scramble down the bank to the side of the streamlet. + +"Where is the boat kept?" she enquired. + +"In a snowdrift close to the entrance," replied Heinrich. "Don't jump +about near the crevasses, Pyto, and I'll go and fetch it." + +The boat was soon dragged from its hiding place, and Heinrich paddled +it to the spot where the Goat-mother was resting on a snow-bank. + +She embarked with some nervousness, clutching desperately at her +handbag. They pushed off, and were immediately carried by the current +through the little round opening of the cave into the pale green +glistening depths of the mysterious world beyond. + + +CHAPTER V. + +There was no need for the Heif family to row. They were swept along +past the ice walls, and in a few minutes reached the Goat-King's +landing-place. A small inlet with a flat shore, on which were +arranged two camp stools and a piece of red carpet. + +"Here we are at last, dear children," said the Goat-mother. "What a +relief it is, to be sure! Is my bonnet straight, Pyto? and do pull +your blouse down. Your hair is all standing on end, Heinrich! How I +wish the Stein-bok had allowed me to bring a pocket-comb!" + +The Court Porter, seated in a bee-hive chair, came forward as soon as +he saw them, to ask their business. + +"The Goat-King is at home to-day till five o'clock," he said. "If you +will step this way, I will introduce you immediately." + +The Goat-mother trembling in every limb--for she had never had a +private interview with Royalty before--clutched a child in each hand +and followed the Porter. + +They passed down two passages, and finally reached a large ice-grotto, +with a row of windows opening on to a wide crevasse. + +The room was filled with a flickering green light that yet rendered +everything distinctly visible. + +On a carved maple chair on the top of a dais sat the Goat-King--a +snow-white Goat with mauve eyes and beard; completely surrounded with +cuckoo clocks, and festoons of yellow wood table-napkin rings, and +paper-cutters. The walls seemed to be covered with them, and the +pendulums of the clocks were swinging in every direction. + +"The King thinks it right to patronize native art," said the +Goat-Queen, who with three of the Princesses had come forward +graciously to welcome the visitors. + +"I find the striking rather trying at times, especially as they don't +all do it at once, and sometimes one cuckoo hasn't finished _ten_ +before the others are at _twelve_ again." + +"I wish all the works would go wrong!" muttered one of the Princesses +crossly. "An ice-cavern full of cuckoo clocks is a poor fate for one +of the Royal Family!" + +"We _must_ encourage industries," said the Queen. "It is a duty of our +position. I should rather the industries were noiseless, but we can't +choose." + +"Bead necklaces and Venetian glass would have been more suitable," +said the Princess, who had been very well educated, "or even +brass-work and embroidered table-cloths. We might have draped the +cavern with _them_." + +At this moment there was a violent whirring amongst the clocks; doors +flew open in all directions, and cuckoos of every size and description +darted out, shook themselves violently, and the air was filled with +such a deafening noise that the Goat-mother threw her apron over her +head, and the Goat-children buried their ears in her skirts, and clung +round her in terror. + +"Merely four o'clock; nothing to make such a fuss about," said the +Goat-King. "And now, when we can hear ourselves speak, you shall tell +me what you have come for." + +As the voice of the last cuckoo died away in a series of jerks, the +Goat-mother advanced, and threw herself on her knees before the Royal +Family, first spreading out her homespun apron to keep the cold off. + +The King listened to her tale with interest, and his mauve eyes +sparkled. + +"If this is true," he cried fiercely, "the Chamois shall be crushed! +My official pen, Princess; and a large sheet of note paper!" + +"Rest yourself, petitioner, you must be tired," said the Queen, and +pointed to a row of carved and inlaid Tyrolese chairs that stood +against the wall. + +The Goat-mother and her children seated themselves gratefully, and as +they did so, a burst of music floated upon the air, several tunes +struggling together for the mastery. + +"Yes; it's very unpleasant, isn't it?" said the Goat-Queen, seeing the +expression of surprise and uneasiness that showed itself on the +visitors' faces. "We're obliged to have all the chairs made like that, +to encourage the trade in musical boxes. I get very tired of it, I +assure you, and I often stand up all day, just for the sake of peace +and quietness. I really _dread_ sitting down!" + +Meanwhile, the Goat-King was busily writing, covering his white paws +with ink in the process; and the Queen, in a very loud voice to make +herself heard, was conversing with the Goat-mother about her household +affairs. + +"Supplies are most difficult to procure in this secluded spot," she +said mournfully. "Would you believe me, that last week we dined +_every_ day off boiled Geneva newspapers and cabbage? So monotonous, +and the King gets quite angry!" + +"I wish we could live on boiled cuckoos!" cried the eldest Princess, +who with her sisters was seated on a bench by the window, spinning; +the pale green light of the Glacier shining upon their white dresses, +and the little brown spinning-wheels that whirred so rapidly before +them. + +"Petitioner, the order is ready," said the King at this moment, waving +a large envelope. "Go straight home, and send this paper round to all +the Goats of the neighbourhood. It is an order to the 'Free-will' +Goats, to arm, and assemble at your house for the defence of your +family, and the rescue of the Heif-father." + +The Goat-mother curtsied to the ground, kissed the Queen's hand, and +retired with Heinrich and Pyto through the passages to the landing +place. + +At the last moment one of the Princesses came running after the +Goat-mother, to press a cuckoo clock upon her, as a parting present +from the Queen. + +The clock was large, and they had some difficulty in getting it into +the boat, but the Goat-mother did not dare to refuse it. + +With the Porter's help they got off at last, and started upon the +return voyage, Heinrich and Pyto rowing their hardest; for the current +swept through the ice-caves with such force that the Goat-mother had +some difficulty in steering. + +As they came out into the daylight, they saw that the sun was almost +setting, and a faint pink light tinged the snow-fields, and the tops +of the distant mountains. + +"We must hurry, or we shan't be back by nightfall!" said the +Goat-mother nervously; and they landed on an ice-block, covered up the +boat again in its hiding place, and set off towards home, across the +Glacier. + + +CHAPTER VI. + +The weary travellers almost sank with fatigue as they stumbled over +the rough ice. + +In addition to the handbag, they now had the cuckoo clock, and though +Heinrich had insisted on carrying it strapped on his back like a +knapsack, his mother could see that he became more and more exhausted, +and at last she determined on taking it from him and carrying it +herself. + +The difficulty was heightened by the fact that the clock continued to +tick, and the cuckoo to bound out of the door at unexpected moments, +startling the Goat-mother so, that she almost dropped it. + +"It's the shaking that puts its works out," said Heinrich. "Hold on +tight, mother, and we shall get it home safely at last!" + +"I wish it was at the bottom of the Glacier!" groaned the +Goat-mother, staggering along; her bonnet nearly falling off, her +shawl trailing on the snow behind her. + +"Be careful, Pyto! Careless Goat!" she cried. "Test the snow-bridges +carefully with your alpenstock before you venture on them!" + +But Pyto, who was young and giddy, went gamboling on; until suddenly, +without even time for a bleat of terror, he fell crashing through the +rotten ice, and disappeared from view into one of the largest +crevasses. + +"Goats-i-tivy!" cried the Goat-mother. "He's gone! Oh, my darling +child, where are you?" + +The cuckoo clock was thrown aside, and she ran to the edge of the +crack and peered down frantically. + +"All right, mother," said a voice, sounding very faint and hollow, +"I've stuck in a hole. Let me down something, and perhaps I can +scramble out again." + +"What have we got to let down?" said the Goat-mother. "Not a ball of +string amongst us! Oh, if ever we go on a journey again, I'll never, +_never_ listen to the Stein-bok." + +"Well, mother, we must make the best of what we have," cried Heinrich. +"Take your shawl off and tear it into strips. We _may_ be able to make +a rope long enough to reach him--anyhow we'll try!" + +The Goat-mother consented eagerly, though her shawl was one she was +particularly fond of. She snatched it off, and taking out her +scissors, she soon cut it into pieces, which Heinrich knotted one to +the other, and lowered into the crevasse. + +"Can you reach it?" he cried, putting his head as far over the edge as +possible, and peering into the green depths. + +The Goat-mother leant over, too; but in stooping her head her bonnet +became loosened, and slid with a loud _swish_ down the ice, darting +from side to side until it disappeared from sight in the darkness. + +"Oh, what misfortunes! My child, my shawl, and my bonnet, _all_ gone +together!" she cried, wringing her hands. "Take hold of the rope, my +Pyto, and let us at all events rescue _you_!" + +"All right, mother," cried the distant voice. "Don't drag me up till I +call out '_Pull_.'" + +In a few minutes the Goat-mother and Heinrich, listening intently, +heard the welcome shout, and pulling both together they landed +Pyto--very much bruised and shaken, but not otherwise hurt--upon the +Glacier beside them. + +"Oh, what a warning!" cried the Goat-mother, and after embracing Pyto +warmly, she turned to look for the cuckoo clock. But it had +tobogganed down a steep bank into an ice stream close by, and was +floating away in the distance, _cuckooing_ at intervals as it danced +up and down upon the water. + +Two travellers who had just reached the opposite bank, paused in +astonishment to listen. + +"You see," said one, "this proves what I have always told you. Nothing +is impossible to Nature. You may even hear cuckoos on a Glacier!" + + +CHAPTER VII. + +The Goat-mother arrived at home in a pitiable state of cold and +exhaustion, but she was much cheered by finding the house in good +order, and a warm supper awaiting her, prepared by the hands of the +careful Stein-bok. + +Lizbet and Lénora immediately started off with the Royal Order; which +was sealed with a large crown of red sealing wax fastening down a wisp +of mauve hair. + +The next morning all the Goats of the neighbourhood collected in a +secret cavern, where they held a patriotic meeting, and discussed +their plans for the rescue and protection of the Heif-father. + +Six of the strongest and most daring spirits were to start that +afternoon for the Inn on the other side of the Glacier, while the rest +of the Free-will corps would take it in turns to remain in ambush in +the Heif-goat's garden, in case the Chamois should attempt their raid +before the day they had appointed. + +They all agreed that the corps should be armed to the teeth, and there +was such a demand for sandpaper that the store in the Stein-bok's pack +was soon exhausted. + +"A rusty sword is all the deadlier, when it once gets in," said the +Goat-Lieutenant. "I shan't trouble myself about petty details." + +The Heif-father rescue party started to cross the Glacier as soon as +it became twilight--for they did not wish to attract attention. + +The Lieutenant carried a blunderbuss, but the five privates were more +lightly armed with a collection of rapiers, carving knives, daggers, +spears, and sword-sticks. + +Their uniforms were varied, but each wore a mauve badge on his hat, +with the motto--"Goats and justice." + +After half-an-hour's steady walking they reached the opposite +mountain, and climbing the ladders that led to the Inn, they skirted +the Châlet carefully, hiding behind the loose rocks and bushes until +they were well in the shadow of the outbuildings. + +"Where are you, Herr Heif?" bleated the Lieutenant in a low tone. "We +are friends. You needn't be alarmed." + +"In here," answered a cautious voice from one of the larger sheds. +"You can't get in, though--there's no hope of breaking the door open. +Iron staples and bars, and the strongest hinges. How many of you are +there?" + +"Six," replied the Lieutenant. "Free-will Goats, armed to the teeth!" + +"You might look at the place and see if you can find a crack +anywhere," whispered the Goat-father. + +The Lieutenant and his followers walked slowly round the house, +examining it at every point; but it was all built of strong tree +trunks tanned brown by the sunshine. Suddenly his eye lighted upon a +small window. It was very high up and quite out of reach of anyone +within, but the Lieutenant thought that by standing on something he +might be able to raise himself sufficiently to reach it, and cut away +the glass. + +"Is there anything inside that _you_ could stand upon?" he enquired. + +There was silence, and a sound of scuffling; then the voice of the +Heif-goat: "I've been examining things, and there are two barrels. I +think I could put one on the top of the other. They _might_ reach to +the window, but it has two great wooden bars, I couldn't break +through." + +"Leave that to us," said the Lieutenant, and he turned to his +followers. + +"Two of you get on each other's shoulders, and then _I_ will be +assisted up. The other three mount in the same way by my side," he +said quickly. "We who are at the top will cut through the window frame +with our knives, collect the glass, and drag out the Goat-father in no +time." + +This plan was carried out, and in spite of the unsteady position of +the topmost Goats, and the uncomfortable shaking of the lower ones, +the wooden bars were at length sawn through, and the glass carefully +gathered together by the Lieutenant in his felt hat. + +"Steady!" cried the Lieutenant, "I'm coming down in a minute, and +you're beginning to shake about so, I can hardly keep my balance. Hi! +Do you hear me? Steady, there!" + +"I can't stand this a moment longer--my legs are giving way beneath +me!" bleated the lower Goat. "I know I shall double up!" + +As he spoke his feet slipped from under him, and he fell full length +upon the hillside, carrying the others with him; and there they all +lay in a confused heap, scarcely able to realize what had happened to +them. + +Fortunately, however, no one was seriously hurt. They picked +themselves up and went to work again with renewed vigour. + +"Climb up now, Herr Heif!" cried the Lieutenant. "Put your head out, +and gradually lower yourself. We'll stand below and catch you." + +"I'm a little afraid, for I know I should fall heavy!" said the +Goat-father, in a quavering voice; but he did as he was told, and +shutting his eyes firmly, he slipped from the window-sill and fell +with a heavy _flop_ into the arms waiting to receive him. + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +The Goat-mother had lit a comfortable fire in the Heif Châlet, and the +Goat-father's slippers were warming against the stove; when a sound of +approaching voices and footsteps made her start up in excited +expectation. + +The voices came nearer and nearer. Now she could distinguish the +National Goat Song, and in another moment the door flew open, and +Herr Heif rushed in accompanied by his rescuers. + +The children screamed, the Goat-mother wept tears of joy; and after a +general rejoicing, the whole party sat down to a comfortable meal, +during which the Lieutenant's health was drunk by the Goat-family +amidst loud cheering. + +"I am sorry we can't invite the whole _corps_," said the Goat-mother. +"It's very cold for them outside, but the fact is I haven't sufficient +crockery. As it is, I am forced to make use of oyster shells and the +flower pot, though it's very much against my principles." + +"Hush!" said the Goat-father, "there's someone knocking!" + +There was indeed a hurried rapping at the door, and one of the +Watch-Goats put in his head to say that the band of Chamois were seen +advancing towards the Châlet. + +The tallow candle was immediately put out, the Lieutenant and his +detachment seized their weapons, and concealed themselves behind the +door, and the Goat-mother and her children were shut up in an inner +room, where they waited in fear and trembling. + +On came the Chamois with noiseless leaps, bounding into the garden, +and approaching the front door with the utmost caution. Everything +appeared to be turning out according to their expectations, and they +already saw themselves in imagination seated in the Heif-house, +revelling in the contents of the Goat-mother's store cupboard. + +Their long green coats fluttered in the air, the large bunches of +edelweiss in their hats, glistened in the moonlight. + +But a low, clear whistle suddenly sounded. + +Each Goat sprang from his hiding place, and with a rush that took the +Chamois completely by surprise, they fell upon the invaders, and drove +them over the precipice. + +It was a real triumph; for the Chamois flew down the mountain in the +wildest confusion, falling down, and darting over each other in their +hurry, and never stopping until they had reached their own haunts in +the region of the distant Eismeer. + +"A glorious victory!" cried the Lieutenant, "and not a drop of blood +shed." + +As to the Goat-mother, she had passed through such a moment of terror +that she had to be assisted out of the back room by three of the +guard, and revived with a cabbage leaf before she could recover +herself. She then embraced everyone all round, and the Goat-father +broached a barrel of lager-beer; while the tame Fox from the Inn (who +had appeared at the Châlet soon after the departure of the rescue +party) ran about supplying the visitors with tumblers. + +The next day the Free-will Goats were disbanded, and returned to their +homes; after receiving in public the thanks of the Goat-King for their +distinguished behaviour, and a carved matchbox each "For valour in +face of the horns of the enemy." + +The Stein-bok Pedlar was begged to make his home at the Heif Châlet, +but he loved his wandering life too much to settle down. + +"Keep the tame Fox instead of me, ma'am," he said, as he shook hands +warmly with his friends at parting. "The poor creature is miserable in +captivity." + +He then made the Goat-mother a handsome present of all his remaining +groceries, and departed once more upon his travels. + +That same afternoon a special messenger from the Goat-King arrived +with an inlaid musical chair, "as a slight token of regard," for the +Heif-father. + +"Well, at all events, it's better than a cuckoo clock," said the +Goat-mother resignedly, "but let me warn you seriously _never to sit +down upon it_! I know its ways, and though kindly meant, I should have +preferred paper-knives!" + + + + +THE GREAT LADY'S CHIEF-MOURNER. + +It was a large white house that stood on a hill. In front stretched a +beautiful garden full of all kinds of rare flowers, on to which opened +the windows of the sitting-rooms. + +Everything was handsome and stately, and the lady who owned it was +handsomer and statelier than her house. + +In her velvet dress she sat under the shade of a sweeping cedar tree; +with a crowd of obsequious relations round her, trying to anticipate +her lightest wishes. + +"How nice it must be to be rich," thought the little kitchen-maid as +she looked out through the trellis work that hid the kitchens at the +side of the great house. "How happy my mistress must be. How much I +should like to try just for one day what it feels like!"--and she went +back with a sigh to her work in the gloomy kitchen. + +Through the latticed window she could see nothing but the paved yard, +and an old tin biscuit box that stood on the window-sill, and +contained two little green shoots sprouting up from the dark mould. + +This little ugly box was the kitchen-maid's greatest treasure. Every +day she watered it and watched over it, for she had brought the seeds +from the tiny garden of her own home, and many sunny memories +clustered about them. She was always looking forward to the day when +the first blossoms would unfold, and now it really seemed that two +buds were forming on the slender stems. The little kitchen-maid smiled +with joy as she noticed them. + +"I shall have flowers, too!" she said to herself hopefully. + +One day, as the mistress of the house walked on the terrace by the +vegetable garden, the little kitchen-maid came past suddenly with a +basket of cabbages. She smiled and curtsied so prettily that the great +lady nodded to her kindly, and threw her a beautiful red rose she +carried in her hand. + +The kitchen-maid could hardly believe her good fortune. She picked up +the flower and ran with it to her bedroom, where she put it in a +cracked jam-pot in water; and the whole room seemed full of its +fragrance--just as the little kitchen-maid's heart was all aglow with +gratitude at the kind act of the great lady. + +Time passed, and the little kitchen-maid's rose withered; but the +slender plants in the tin box expanded into flower, and all the yard +seemed brighter for their white petals. + +One day the mistress of the house fell ill. Doctors went and came, +crowds of relations besieged the house, an air of gloom hung over the +bright garden. + +The little kitchen-maid waited anxiously for news; and tears rolled +down her face as she heard the Church bell tolling for the death of +the great lady. + +A grand funeral started from the white house on the hill. Carriages +containing relations, who tried vainly to twist their faces into an +expression of the grief they were supposed to be feeling. + +Wreaths of the purest hot-house flowers covered the coffin--wreaths +for which the relations had given large sums of money; but not one +woven with sorrowful care by the hand of a real lover. + +The sod was patted down, the dry-eyed mourners departed; and some +square yards of bare earth were all that now belonged to the great +lady. + +When everyone had left, the little kitchen-maid crept from behind some +bushes, where she had been hiding. + +Her face was tear-stained, and she carried in her hand two slender +white flowers. + +They were the plants grown with such loving care in the old tin box on +the window-sill; and she laid them with a sigh amongst the rich +wreaths and crosses. + +"Good-bye, dear mistress! I have nothing else to bring you," she +whispered; and never dreamed that her gift had been the most beautiful +of any--her simple love and tears. + + + + +DAME FOSSIE'S CHINA DOG. + +Granny Pyetangle lived in a little thatched cottage, with a garden +full of sweet-smelling, old-fashioned flowers. It was one of a long +row of other thatched cottages that bordered the village street. At +one end of this was the Inn, with a beautiful sign-board that creaked +and swayed in the wind; at the other, Dame Fossie's shop, in which +brandy-balls, ginger-snaps, balls of string, tops, cheese, tallow +candles, and many other useful and entertaining things were neatly +disposed in a small latticed window. + +All Granny Pyetangle's relations were dead; and she lived quite alone +with her little grandson 'Zekiel, who had been a mingled source of +pride and worry to her, ever since he left off long-clothes and took +to a short-waisted frock with a wide frill round the neck, that +required constant attention in the way of washing and ironing. + +'Zekiel's favourite place to play in was Granny Pyetangle's cottage +doorway. + +A board had been put up to prevent him rolling out on to the +cobblestone pavement; and this board though very irritating to +'Zekiel in many ways--as preventing him from straying down the road +and otherwise enjoying himself--was yet not to be despised, as he soon +discovered, when he was learning to walk. + +It was one of the few things he could grasp firmly, without its +immediately sliding away, doubling up, turning head over heels, or +otherwise throwing him violently down on the brick floor of the +kitchen--before he knew what had happened to him! + +Granny Pyetangle frequently went to have a chat with Dame Fossie, her +large sun-bonnet shading her wrinkled old face, a handkerchief crossed +neatly over her print bodice. On these occasions 'Zekiel accompanied +his grandmother, hanging on to her skirts affectionately with one +hand, whilst he waved a crust of brown bread in the other--a crust +which he generally carried concealed about his person, for the +two-fold purpose of assisting through his teeth and amusing himself at +every convenient opportunity. + +Whilst Granny Pyetangle discussed the affairs of the neighbours, +'Zekiel would sit on the floor by her side contentedly sucking his +crust, and looking with awe upon the contents of the shop. Such a +collection of good things seemed a perfect fairy-tale to him, and he +would often settle in his own mind what he would have when he grew up +and had pence to rattle about in his trousers' pocket, like Eli and +Hercules Colfox. + +Like most children in short petticoats, who--contrary to the +generally-received idea--are constantly meditating on every subject +that comes under their notice; 'Zekiel had his own ideas about Granny +Pyetangle and her friend Dame Fossie. + +His grandmother ought to have spent more of her money on +peppermint-cushions, tin trumpets, and whip-tops, and less on those +uninteresting household stores; and Dame Fossie should have remembered +that crusts are poor work when brandy-snaps and gingerbread are spread +before you, and ought more frequently to have bestowed a biscuit on +the round-eyed 'Zekiel, as he played with the cat, or poked pieces of +stick between the cracks of the floor when Granny Pyetangle wasn't +looking. + +Though 'Zekiel had no brothers and sisters, he had a great many +friends, the chief of which were Eli and Hercules Colfox, his next +door neighbours, who were very kind and condescending to him in spite +of the dignity of their corduroy trousers. + +'Zekiel had a way of ingratiating himself with everyone, and of +getting what he wanted, that inspired the slower-witted Eli and +Hercules with awe and admiration; until one day he took it into his +head to long for Dame Fossie's celebrated black and white spotted +china dog! + +All the village knew this dog, for it had stood for years on a shelf +above the collection of treasures in the shop window. It was not an +ordinary china dog such as you can see in any china shop now-a-days, +but one of the old-fashioned kind, on which the designer had (like +the early masters) expended all his art upon the dignity of expression +without harassing himself with petty details. + +Proudly Dame Fossie's dog looked down upon the world, sitting erect, +with his golden padlock and chain glittering in any stray gleams of +sunshine; his white coat evenly spotted with black, his long drooping +ears, neat row of carefully-painted black curls across the forehead, +and that proud smile which, though the whole village had been smitten +down before him, would still have remained unchangeable. + +It was this wonderful superiority of expression that had first +attracted 'Zekiel as he played about on the floor of Dame Fossie's +parlour. + +The china dog never looked at him with friendly good-fellowship, like +the other dogs of the village. It never wanted to share his crusts, or +upset him by running up against his legs just as he thought he had +mastered the difficulties of "walking like Granny!" + +It was altogether a strangely attractive animal, and 'Zekiel, from the +time he could first indistinctly put a name to anything, had +christened it the "Fozzy-gog" out of compliment to its owner, Dame +Fossie--and the "Fozzy-gog" it remained to him, and to the other +children of the village, for ever after. + +When 'Zekiel was nearly six years of age Granny Pyetangle called him +up to her, and asked what he would like for his birthday present. + +'Zekiel sat down on a wooden stool in the chimney corner, where the +iron pot hung, and meditated deeply. + +"Eli and Hercules to tea, and a Fozzy-gog to play with," he said at +last--and Granny Pyetangle smiled and said she would see what she +could do--"'Zekiel was a good lad, and deserved a treat." + +'Zekiel's birthday arrived, and the moment he opened his eyes he saw +that his grandmother had redeemed her promise. + +On a rush chair beside his pillow stood the very double of the +Fozzy-gog!--yellow eyes, gold collar and padlock, black spots, and all +complete! + +'Zekiel sprang up, and scrambled into his clothes as quickly as +possible. He danced round Granny Pyetangle in an ecstasy of delight, +and scarcely eat any breakfast, he was in such a hurry to show his +treasure to his two friends. + +As he handed it over the low hedge that separated the two gardens he +felt a proud boy, but Eli did not appear so enthusiastic as 'Zekiel +expected. He said that "chaney dogs was more for Grannies nor for +lads," and that if he had been in 'Zekiel's place he would have chosen +a fine peg-top. + +Poor 'Zekiel was disappointed. The tears gathered in his eyes. He hugged +the despised china dog fondly to him, and carried it indoors to put in a +place of honour in Granny Pyetangle's oak corner-cupboard--where it +looked out proudly from behind the glass doors, in company with the best +tea-cups, a shepherdess tending a woolly lamb, two greyhounds on +stony-white cushions, and Grandfather Pyetangle's horn snuff-box. + +Time passed on, and 'Zekiel's petticoats gave place to corduroy +breeches, but his devotion to the china dog never waned. He would talk +to it, and tell it all his plans and fancies, and several times he +almost persuaded himself that it wagged its tail and nodded to him. In +fact, he was quite sure that when Granny Pyetangle was ill that +winter, the china dog was conscious of the fact, and looked at him +with its yellow eyes full of compassion and sympathy. + +Poor Granny Pyetangle was certainly very ill. She had suffered from +rheumatism for many years, and was sometimes almost bent double with +it; but that autumn it came on with increased violence, and 'Zekiel, +who nursed his old grandmother devotedly, had to sit by the bed-side +for hours giving her medicine, or the food a neighbour prepared for +her, just as she required it. + +Granny Pyetangle was sometimes rather cross in those days, and would +scold poor 'Zekiel for "clumping in his boots" and "worritting"--but +'Zekiel was very patient. + +"Sick people _is_ wearing at times," said Dame Fossie. "Come you down +to me sometimes, 'Zekiel, and I'll let you play with my chaney dog. It +isn't fit as young lads should be cooped up always!"--and when Granny +Pyetangle had a neighbour with her, 'Zekiel gladly obeyed. + +One evening he ran down the village street with a smile on his face, +and a new penny in his pocket. Squire Hancock had given it to him for +holding his horse, and he was going to spend it at Dame Fossie's on a +cake for his grandmother. + +Twilight was falling, yet Dame Fossie's shop was not lighted up; which +was strange, as a little oil lamp generally burned in the window as +soon as it grew dusk. + +The shop door was shut and locked, and 'Zekiel ran round to the back, +and climbing on the edge of the rain-water butt, he peered over the +white dimity blind, into the silent kitchen. + +No one was there, and yet Dame Fossie must be somewhere in the house, +for he distinctly heard sounds of thumping and scraping going on +upstairs. + +"I'll get in through the window, and surprise her!" said 'Zekiel; and +as one of the latticed panes was unfastened he proceeded to push it +gently open, and creep in on to the table that stood just beneath it. + +He unlatched the kitchen door, and stole up the ricketty staircase. + +The sounds continued, but more loudly. Evidently there was a +house-cleaning going on, and 'Zekiel supposed this was why Dame Fossie +had been deaf to his repeated knockings. He lifted the latch of the +room from which the noise proceeded, and peeping cautiously in, beheld +such a strange sight that he remained rooted to the ground with +astonishment. + +Dame Fossie's furniture was piled up in one corner--the oak bureau, +and the rush-bottomed chairs, inside the four-post bedstead. A pail +of water stood in the middle of the floor; and close by was the +Fozzy-gog himself, with a mop between his paws, working away with the +greatest energy. + +He was about four times his ordinary size, as upright as 'Zekiel +himself, and was directing the work of several other china dogs; +amongst whom 'Zekiel immediately recognized his own property, Granny +Pyetangle's birthday present! + +Everyone seemed to be too busy to notice 'Zekiel as he stood half in +the doorway. Two of the dogs were scouring the floor with a pair of +Dame Fossie's best scrubbing brushes, another was dusting the ceiling +with a feather broom; whilst several, seated round the four-post +bedstead, were polishing it with bees' wax and "elbow-grease." They +all listened to the Fozzy-gog with respectful attention, as he issued +his directions; for he was evidently a person in authority. + +It did not occur to 'Zekiel to be surprised that all the dogs were +chatting together in very comprehensible Dorsetshire English. To see +them actually living, and moving about, was such an extraordinary +thing that it swallowed up every other feeling, even that of fear. + +"Make haste, my good dogs! Put the furniture straight, and have all +ready. Dame Fossie will be returning soon, and we must be back on our +shelves before her key turns," said the Fozzy-gog cheerfully. + +The dogs all worked with renewed energy, and before 'Zekiel could +collect his scattered wits enough to retreat or hide himself, the +room was in perfect order, and out trooped the china dogs carrying the +buckets, brooms, and brushes, they had been using. + +As they caught sight of 'Zekiel, the Fozzy-gog jumped several feet +into the air. + +"What! 'Zekiel spying upon us!" he screamed angrily. "Bring the lad +into the kitchen. We must examine into this," and he clattered down +the steep stairs with his mop into the wash-house. + +Poor 'Zekiel followed trembling. His own dog had crept up to him, and +slipped one paw into his hand, whispering hurriedly, "Don't be +downhearted, 'Zekiel. Never contradict him, and he will forgive you in +a year or two!" + +"A year or two!" thought 'Zekiel wretchedly. "And never contradict +him, indeed! when he says I was spying on him. A likely thing!" and he +clung to his friend, and dragged him in with him into the kitchen. + +The Fozzy-gog sat in Dame Fossie's high-backed chair in the chimney +corner, the other china dogs grouped around him. It reminded 'Zekiel +of the stories of Kings and their Courts, and no doubt the Fozzy-gog +_was_ a king--in his own opinion at least. + +He questioned 'Zekiel minutely as to how he happened to come there so +late in the evening; and to all the questions 'Zekiel answered most +truthfully. + +The frown on the Fozzy-gog's face relaxed more and more--an amiable +smile began to curl the corners of his mouth, and he extended his paw +in a dignified manner towards 'Zekiel, who felt like a prisoner +reprieved. + +"We forgive you, 'Zekiel! You have always been a good friend to us, +and your own dog speaks well of you," said the Fozzy-gog benignly. +"You must give us your word you will never mention what you have seen. +In the future we must be china dogs to you, and _nothing more_; but in +return for this you may ask one thing of us, and, if possible, we will +grant it." + +'Zekiel hesitated. Wild possibilities of delight in the shape of +ponies and carts flitted rapidly through his mind, and then the +remembrance of Granny Pyetangle, lying ill and suffering on her bed in +the little sloping attic, drove everything else from his mind. + +"I want my poor old Granny to be well again," he said, looking the +Fozzy-gog bravely in the face--"and I don't want naught else. If +you'll do that, I'll promise anything--that's to say, anything in +reason," added 'Zekiel, who prided himself on this diplomatic finish +to his sentence--which was one he had frequently heard his grandmother +make use of in moments of state and ceremony. + +The Fozzy-gog appeared to be favourably impressed by 'Zekiel's +request. He rose from his chair, and waved his paw graciously. + +"We dismiss this gathering!" he cried. "And you, Pyetangle"--pointing +to 'Zekiel's china dog--"take your master home, and bring him to our +meeting at the cross-roads to-morrow at midnight. Do not fail. +Farewell!" + +As he spoke the Fozzy-gog shrank and stiffened. His black curls +acquired their usual glaze, and he had just time to jump upon the +shelf above the shop window, before he froze into his immovable china +self again. + +The other dogs disappeared through the open kitchen casement; and +'Zekiel found himself in the village street without in the least +knowing how he got there! + +It was almost dark as he ran home, but as he swung open the garden +gate, he fancied he saw something white standing exactly in the centre +of the pathway. He was sure he heard a faint barking, and a voice +whispered--"Wait a minute, 'Zekiel, I want to talk to you." 'Zekiel +retreated a step, and sat down gasping on a flower bed. + +"I want to talk to you," repeated the little voice. + +'Zekiel craned forward, though he was trembling with fright, and saw +in the fast gathering shadows his own china dog, standing beside +Granny Pyetangle's favourite lavender bush--though how it managed to +get there so quickly he could not imagine! He stretched out his hand +to stroke it, and started up, as instead of the cold china, he felt +the soft curls of a fluffy fur coat. + +"Tell me what it all means! Oh, do'ee, now!" said 'Zekiel, almost +crying. + +The china dog sat down by 'Zekiel's side, and putting one paw +affectionately on his knee, looked up in his face, with his honest +yellow eyes. + +"The Fozzy-gog has commissioned me to explain all about it," he said +confidentially. "So don't be frightened, and no harm will come of it! +Twice every month (if we can escape unobserved) we take the form of +ordinary dogs, and meet together to amuse ourselves, or to work for +our owners. There are many of us in the village, and as the Fozzy-gog +is our ruler, we are bound to obey him, and to work more for old Dame +Fossie than for anybody else. Yesterday we knew she was going to visit +her married daughter. We determined to have a thorough house-cleaning, +and were just in the midst of it when you came in! It was a good thing +the Fozzy-gog happened to be in a good temper, and knew you well! We +have never before been discovered. He is a hasty temper, and it +certainly _was_ irritating!" + +'Zekiel began to recover from his terror, and grasped the china dog by +the paw. He felt proud to think that his ideas about china dogs had +proved true. They were not merely "chaney"--as Eli and Hercules +contemptuously expressed it; but were really as much alive as he was +himself, after all! + +"However did you manage to get out of Granny Pyetangle's cupboard?" +enquired 'Zekiel, curiously. + +"Oh, I put those lazy greyhounds and the shepherdess at it," replied +the china dog. "They worked all night, and managed to undo the latch +early this afternoon. They're bound to work for me like all the +inferior china things," and he shook his head superciliously. + +"And now," said 'Zekiel, "please tell me how the Fozzy-gog is going to +get my Granny well." + +"Ah, that I mayn't tell you," said the china dog. "You must come with +me to-morrow night to the Dog-wood, and you will hear all about it." + +As he spoke, he began to shrink and stiffen in the same remarkable way +as the Fozzy-gog, and a moment after he was standing in his ordinary +shape in the centre of the cobblestone pathway. + +The moonlight shone upon his quaint little figure and the golden +padlock at his neck. 'Zekiel sprang up just as the cottage door +opened, and a neighbour came out calling, "'Zekiel! 'Zekiel! Drat the +lad! Where be you gone to?" + +'Zekiel tucked the china dog under his arm and hurried in, receiving a +good scolding from Granny Pyetangle and her friend for "loitering," +but he felt so light-hearted and cheerful, the hard words fell round +him quite harmlessly. + +"Granny 'll be well to-morrow! Granny 'll be well to-morrow!" he kept +repeating to himself over and over again, and he ran into the kitchen +just before going to bed to make sure the things in the corner +cupboard were safely shut away for the night. + +'Zekiel hardly knew how he got through the next day, so impatient was +he for the evening. Granny Pyetangle was certainly worse. The +neighbours came in and shook their heads sadly over her, and Dame +Fossie hobbled up from her shop and offered to spend the night there, +as it was "no' fit for young lads to have such responsibilities"--and +this offer 'Zekiel eagerly accepted. + +As soon as it grew dusk, he unlatched the door of the oak cupboard; +and then being very tired--for he had worked hard since daylight--he +sat down in Granny Pyetangle's large chair, and in a minute was fast +asleep. + +He was awakened by a series of pulls at his smock-frock; and starting +up he saw that it was quite dark, except for the glow of a few ashes +on the hearth-stone, and that the china dog, grown to the same size as +he had been the evening before, was trying to arouse him. + +"Wake up, 'Zekiel!" he said in a low voice. "Dame Fossie is upstairs +with your Granny, and we must be off." + +'Zekiel rubbed his eyes, and taking his cap down from a peg, and tying +a check comforter round his neck, he followed the china dog from the +kitchen, and closed and latched the door behind him. + +Out in the moonlit street, the china dog kept as much as possible in +the shadow of the houses; 'Zekiel following, his hob-nailed boots +_click_, _clicking_ against the rough stones as he stumbled sleepily +along. + +They soon left the village behind them, and plunged into a wood, +which, stretching for miles across hill and dale, was known to be a +favourite haunt of smugglers. + +'Zekiel instantly became very wide awake indeed, and unpleasant cold +shivers ran down his back, as he thought he saw black and white forms +gliding amongst the trees, and yellow eyes glancing at him between +the bare branches. + +"It isn't smugglers. It's the dogs galloping to the meeting place," +said the china dog, who seemed able to read 'Zekiel's thoughts in a +very unnatural manner. + +They soon left the rough pathway they had been following, and 'Zekiel, +clinging to the china dog's paw, found himself in the densest part of +the wood, which was only dimly lighted by a few scattered moonbeams. + +"We are getting near the Dog-wood now," said the china dog as they +hurried on, and in another moment they came out on to the middle of a +clearing, round which a dense thicket of red-stemmed dog-wood bushes +grew in the greatest luxuriance. + +In the centre was a large square stone, like a stand; on which sat the +Fozzy-gog, surrounded by about fifty china dogs of all shapes and +sizes, but each one with a gold padlock and chain round his neck, +without which none were admitted to the secret society of the +"Fozzy-gogs." + +'Zekiel was drawn reluctantly into the magic circle, while every dog +wagged his tail as a sign of friendly greeting. + +The Fozzy-gog nodded graciously, and immediately the dogs commenced a +wild dance, with many leaps and bounds; round the stone on which their +ruler was seated. + +The moonlight shone brightly on their glancing white coats; and behind +rustled the great oak trees, their boughs twisted into fantastic +forms, amidst which the wind whistled eerily. + +'Zekiel shuddered as he looked at the strange scene, and longed +sincerely to be back again in his little bed at Granny Pyetangle's. + +"However, it won't do to show I'm afraid, or don't like it," he said +to himself, so he capered and hopped with the others until he was +quite giddy and exhausted, and forced to sit down on a grassy bank to +recover himself. + +"The trees are playing very well to-night," said a dog as he skipped +by. "Come and have another dance?" and he flew round and round like a +humming top. + +'Zekiel shook his head several times. He was so out of breath he could +only gasp hurriedly--"No, no! No more, thank you!" but his friend had +already disappeared. + +The Fozzy-gog now approached him. He carried something in his paw, +which he placed in 'Zekiel's hand. + +"Put this on Grandmother Pyetangle's forehead when you return +to-night--promise that you will keep silence for ever about what you +have seen--and to-morrow she will be well!" + +"I promise," said 'Zekiel. "Oh, Fozzy-gog! I'll never forget it!" + +"No thanks," said the Fozzy-gog. "I like deeds more than words. +Pyetangle shall take you home." + +He beckoned to 'Zekiel's dog, who came up rather sulkily--and 'Zekiel +found himself outside the magic circle, and well on his way home, +almost before he could realize that they had started! + +As he entered Granny Pyetangle's little garden, he saw that a light +was still burning in her attic. + +He went softly into the kitchen. It was quite dark, but a ray of +moonlight enabled him to see the china dog open the cupboard; and, +rapidly shrinking, place himself on his proper shelf again. + +'Zekiel then took off his boots, ran up the creaking stairs, and +tapped softly at Granny Pyetangle's bedroom. No one answered, so he +pushed open the door. + +Dame Fossie sat sleeping peacefully in a large rush-bottomed chair by +the fireplace--and Granny Pyetangle, on her bed under the chintz +curtains, was sleeping too. + +'Zekiel laid the Fozzy-gog's leaf carefully on her forehead, and +creeping from the room, threw himself on his own little bed, and was +soon as fast asleep as the two old women. + +The next morning, when Granny Pyetangle awoke, she said she felt +considerably better, and so energetic was she that Dame Fossie had +great difficulty in persuading her not to get up. + +Dame Fossie tidied up the place, and was much annoyed to find a dead +leaf sticking to Granny Pyetangle's scanty grey hair. "How a rubbishy +leaf o' dog-wood came to get there, is more nor _I_ can account for," +she said crossly, as she swept it away into the fire, before 'Zekiel +could interfere to rescue it. + +Granny Pyetangle's recovery was wonderfully rapid. Every day she was +able to do a little more, and 'Zekiel's triumph was complete when he +was allowed to help her down the stairs into the kitchen, and seat her +quavering, but happy, on the great chair in the chimney corner. + +"Well, it do seem pleasant to be about agin," said Granny Pyetangle, +smoothing her white linen apron. "No'but you have kept the place +clean, 'Zekiel, like a good lad. There's those things in corner +cupboard as bright as chaney can be! and that chaney dog o' yours +sitting as life-like as you please! It wouldn't want much fancy to say +he was wagging his tail and looking at me quite welcoming!" + +The wood fire blazed and crackled, the kettle sang on its chain in the +wide chimney. Granny Pyetangle was almost well, and quite happy; and +'Zekiel felt his heart overflowing with gratitude towards the +Fozzy-gog. + +"I'll never forget him. Never!" said 'Zekiel to himself, "and I +wouldn't tell upon him not if anyone was to worrit me ever so!"--and +indeed he never did. + +Years passed, and Dame Fossie's shop was shut, and Dame Fossie herself +was laid to rest. Her daughter inherited most of her possessions; +but--"to my young friend 'Zekiel Pyetangle, I will and bequeath my +china dog, hoping as he'll be a kind friend to it," stood at the end +of the sheet of paper which did duty as her will. And so 'Zekiel +became the owner of the Fozzy-gog after all! + +Granny Pyetangle has long since passed away, but the little thatched +cottage is still there, with the garden full of lavender bushes and +sweet-smelling flowers. From the glass door of the corner cupboard +the Fozzy-gog and his companion look out upon the world with the same +inscrutable expression; and 'Zekiel himself, old and decrepit, but +still cheerful, may at this moment be sitting in the cottage porch, +watching his little grandchildren play about the cobblestone pathway, +or talking over old times with Eli and Hercules Colfox, who, hobbling +in for a chat, take a pull at their long pipes, and bemoan the +inferiority of everything that does not belong to the time when "us +were all lads together." + + + + +PRINCESS SIDIGUNDA'S GOLDEN SHOES. + +Princess Sidigunda lived with her parents in a beautiful old castle by +the sea. It was so near that the royal gardens sloped down gradually +to the shore, and from its battlements--where the little Princess was +allowed to walk sometimes on half-holidays--she could watch the ships +with their gaily-painted prows and golden dragons' heads, sweeping +over the water in quest of new lands and fresh adventures. + +Princess Sidigunda was an only child, and at her christening every +gift you can imagine had been showered upon her. + +The Trolls of the Woods gave her beauty; the Trolls of the Water, a +free, bright spirit; the Mountain-Trolls, good health; and last, but +not least, her chief Godfather, the Troll of the Seashore, had given +her a beautiful little pair of golden slippers. + +"Never let the child take them off her feet," said the old Troll. "As +long as she keeps them she will be happy. If ever they are lost the +Princess's troubles will begin." + +"But they will grow too small for her!" said the Queen anxiously. + +"Oh no, they won't!" said the old Troll. "They will grow as she grows, +so you needn't trouble about that." + +[Illustration] + +Time went on, and the little Princess grew to be ten years old. + +The old Troll's promise was fulfilled, and her life had been a +perfectly happy one. Watched by her faithful nurse, she had never had +any opportunity of losing her magic shoes; and though she often +bathed and played about the shore with her young companions, she was +never allowed to be without one of her attendants, in case she should +forget her Godfather's caution. + +One fine summer afternoon, the Princess, with some of her friends, ran +down to the sands from the little gate in the castle wall. + +The sea looked green and beautiful, light waves curling over on the +narrow strip of yellow shore. + +"Let's wade!" cried the Princess. "My nurse is ill in bed, and my two +ladies think we are playing in the garden. We'll have a little treat +of being alone, and enjoy ourselves!" + +"We must take our slippers off," said one of the children, as they +raced along. + +"Oh, I wish _I_ could!" cried the Princess. "I don't believe _once_ +would matter. I'll put them in a safe place where the sea can't get at +them," and as she spoke she pulled off her golden shoes, and hid them +in a great hurry behind a sand-bank. + +The Princess's little friends ran off laughing; while she followed, +her hair streaming, her bare feet twinkling in the sunlight. + +"How nice it is to be free, without those tiresome shoes!" cried the +Princess. + +The children paddled in the water until they were tired, and then +Sidigunda thought it was time to put on her slippers again. She ran to +the bank, but gave a cry of astonishment--she could only find one of +her golden shoes! Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked about her +wildly. + +"Oh what shall I do?" she cried. "My shoe! My Godfather's shoe!" + +The children gathered round her eagerly. + +"It must be there. Who can have taken it?" + +They searched the low sand dunes up and down, but not a trace of the +lost slipper could be found. It was gone as entirely as if it had +never existed; and as the Princess drew on the remaining one, the +tears rolled down her face, and fell upon the sand-hill by which she +was sitting. + +"Oh, Godfather! dear Godfather! come and help me!" she wailed. "Do +come and help me!" + +At her cry, the sand-hill began to quiver and shake strangely. It +heaved up, and an old man's head, with a long grey beard, appeared in +the middle; followed slowly by a little brown-coated body. + +"What is the matter, God-daughter? Your tears trickled down to me and +woke me up, just as I was comfortably sleeping," he said querulously. +"They're saltier than the sea, and I can't stand them." + +"My shoe's gone! Oh! whatever am I to do? I'm _so_ sorry, Godfather!" + +"So you ought to be!" said the old man sharply. "I told you something +bad would happen if you ever took them off. The question is now, +Where's the shoe gone to?" + +He leant his elbows on the mound, and looked out to sea. + +"Just what I thought!" he exclaimed. "The Sea-children have taken it +for a boat. I _must_ speak to the Sea-grandmother about them, and get +her to keep them in better order." + +"Oh, it's gone then, and I shall never get it back again!" wept the +Princess. "What am I to do, Godfather?" + +[Illustration] + +"Have you courage enough to go and find your shoe by yourself?" + +"If that's the only way to get it back," said the Princess bravely. + +"Well, then, you must start immediately, or the Sea-children will +have hidden it away somewhere. You will be obliged to have a passport, +but I'll tell you how to get that. Take this veil"--and he drew a +thin, transparent piece of silvery gauze from his pocket--"and throw +it over your head whenever you go under the water. With it you will be +able to breathe and see, as well as if you were on dry land. From this +flask"--and he handed Sidigunda a curious little gold bottle--"you +must pour a few drops on to your remaining shoe, and whenever you do +so it will change in a moment into a boat, a horse, or a fish, as you +desire it." + +"How am I to start, and where am I to go to?" asked the Princess, +trying not to feel frightened at the prospect before her. + +"Launch your shoe as a boat, and float on till you meet the Sea-Troll, +who is an old friend of mine. Explain your errand to him, and say I +begged him to direct you and give you a passport. And now one last +word before I leave you. Never, _whatever_ happens, cry again; for +there is nothing worries me so much, and I want to finish my sleep +comfortably." + +With these words the old Troll collected his long grey beard which had +strayed over the sand-hill; and folding it round him, he disappeared +in the hole again. + +Princess Sidigunda did not give herself time to think. She ran down to +the edge of the water, took off her golden shoe, and poured some of +the contents of her Godfather's flask over it. + +It changed immediately into a boat, into which the Princess stepped +tremblingly; and it floated away over the blue water until the little +Princess, straining her eyes eagerly, lost sight of her home, and the +land faded away into a mere streak upon the horizon. + +"I wonder when I shall meet the Sea-Troll and what he's like," thought +Princess Sidigunda. "I suppose I shall be able to recognize him +somehow." + +As she thought this, she noticed that some object was rapidly floating +towards her. It did not look like a boat, and as it came nearer and +nearer, she could see that it was a large shell, on which an old man +with a long beard was seated cross-legged, surrounded by a crowd of +laughing Sea-children. They clung to the sides of the shell, swum +round it, or climbed up to rest themselves on its crinkled edges. + +"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" cried the old man in a +gruff voice. + +The Princess trembled; but she seized her veil and the little flask, +and holding them out she repeated her Godfather's message. + +"I'll see what I can do, though really these children wear me out!" +said the Sea-Troll. "I can't keep my eye on all of them at once! You +had better go down to the Sea-city, and ask if they've carried your +shoe there. If not, the Troll-writers will tell you where it is. Show +this to the city guard, and they will direct you to the Palace." He +gave the Princess a flat shell on which some letters were engraved. +"Sink down at once," he continued; "you are over the city now," and +with a wave of his hand he sailed away with the children, and was soon +out of sight. + +"I suppose there's nothing else to be done," sighed Sidigunda, and +throwing the scarf over her head, she poured a few drops from the +bottle upon her shoe. + +"Turn into a fish and carry me down to the Sea-city!" she said. + +In a moment she felt herself sinking through the clear water, deeper +and deeper, with a delicious drowsy feeling that almost soothed her to +sleep. She knew she was _not_ asleep though, for she could see the +misty forms of sea creatures, darting about in the dim shadows, and +great waving sea-weeds--crimson, yellow, and brown--floating up from +the rippled sand beneath. + +And now the shoe swum straight on, darting through the water like an +eel; until a large town came in sight, with high walls and Palaces, +and shining domes covered with mother-o'-pearl. + +They stopped at a great gate, before which a fish dressed as a sentry +was standing. + +As soon as he saw the little Princess, he drew his sword, and came +gliding towards her. + +"Your name and business!" he enquired, in a high thin voice. + +"I am Princess Sidigunda, seeking my golden shoe, and I bring this +from the Sea-Troll," said the Princess courageously. "Will you tell +me where I am to find the Trolls of the Palace?" + +The fish handed the shell back sulkily, and pointed up the street. + +"Go straight through till you come to the marble building with the +pearls over the door," he said; and gave the Princess a poke with the +handle of his sword, that pushed her through the gate, almost before +she had time to draw on her golden shoe again. + +"What a rude, ill-bred sentry!" said Sidigunda. "My father would be +very angry if any of _our_ soldiers behaved so; but then, of course, +this one is only a fish. What a strange country I seem to have got +into!" + +She walked along the street, looking on each side of her curiously. + +Many of the houses had transparent domes, like beautiful soap bubbles; +some were built of coloured pebbles, and pink and red coral, with +branching trees of green and brown seaweed growing up, beside and over +them. + +Everything was strange, and unlike the earth; but what struck the +Princess most was that no inhabitants were to be seen anywhere. A few +fish swam about lazily, otherwise an unbroken silence reigned in the +Sea-city. + +Far away, at the end of the wide sanded road, a great marble palace +towered over the surrounding houses; and as the Princess neared it she +saw that the doors were wide open. She walked in fearlessly, and found +herself in a large hall, with walls entirely covered with +cockle-shells. Long stone tables filled the middle of the room; at +which a crowd of small brown-coated men were seated, scribbling away +with long pens, but in total silence. + +The great grey beards of some of the writers had touched the ground, +and even twisted themselves round the legs of the benches on which the +old men were sitting. + +Princess Sidigunda stood for a minute looking on, curiously. She then +went up to one of the Trolls and pulled him gently by the sleeve. + +He did not look up, but his pen slightly slackened its speed. + +"What do you want?" he enquired in an uninterested voice. "Make haste, +for I have no time to spare!" + +"What rude people they all are!" thought the Princess. "The Sea-Troll +said you would tell me how to find my golden shoe," she continued +aloud. + +"I wish the Sea-Troll would mind his own business!" said the little +brown man vindictively. "He's always distracting us from our State +business with all sorts of messages." + +"Are you working for the State?" enquired Sidigunda. + +"Of course! I thought every oyster knew that," replied the brown +Troll. + +"Are they particularly uneducated, then?" asked the Princess. + +"Why they're _babies_!" said the brown Troll. "You can see them any +day in their beds by the side of the road, if you have eyes in your +head." + +"What a place to keep babies in!" thought the Princess, but she said +nothing, for she saw that the old Troll's disposition was very +irritable. + +"Would you tell me one thing," she began. "I do so much want to know +why I saw no one in the streets as I came along. Where have all the +people gone to?" + +"Well, of _all_ the idi----" commenced the brown Troll, then checked +himself with an effort. "Of course you can't know how foolish your +questions sound," he said. "When you're two or three hundred years old +I daresay you'll be more sensible. Why all the people are asleep--you +don't suppose it's the same as in _your_ country!" + +"Do they sleep all the time?" asked the Princess. + +"Not all the time, of course. In this town it's two weeks at a +stretch. In other places more, or less. By this arrangement we always +have half the population asleep, and half awake--much pleasanter and +less crowding. I can't think why it's not done in other places!" + +Princess Sidigunda looked surprised. + +"Will the children who took my shoe be asleep?" she enquired +anxiously. + +"Not they!" said the brown Troll crossly, "I wish they would be! +Children under twelve _never_ sleep. It's like having a crowd of live +eels always round me! I'd put them to sleep when they were a month +old, and not let them wake till they came of age, if I had _my_ way!" + +The Princess felt rather frightened of this savage little brown man. +She was afraid to ask any more questions, though she longed to know +why he and his companions were not asleep too. + +"Go straight down the street," commenced the old Troll abruptly, "out +of the green gate, along the road to the open country. Turn your shoe +into a horse, and don't stop till you reach the Crab-boy's hut. He +will direct you." + +"That sounds simple enough," thought the Princess, "but I wish he +would tell me a little more!" + +The brown Troll, however, refused to open his mouth again, and +Princess Sidigunda was obliged to start off upon her wanderings, with +no more guide than the few words he had chosen to speak to her. + +She ran down the silent street, and out at the green gate; the +Fish-sentry allowing her to pass without objection. As soon as she +reached the country road, she walked more slowly. She particularly +wanted to see the beds with the Sea-babies, which the old Troll had +spoken about. + +For some distance she noticed nothing except wide sandy plains dotted +with rocks, shells, and waving forests of giant seaweed--huge fish +darting about in all directions--but at last the scenery grew wilder; +and close to the road side she came upon a grove of oysters, each +half-open shell containing a Sea-child, whose head and arms appeared +above the edges of the shell, while its feet and body were invisible. + +Beside them sat an old woman, grey and wrinkled; with a small switch +in her hand, with which she occasionally touched the Sea-babies as +they leaned too far from their shells, or as their laughter rose too +noisily. + +The little Princess stopped and looked at the children curiously; and +the old woman stepped forward and made a polite curtsey. + +"They are rather noisy to-day," she said deprecatingly. "The +oyster-nurses have gone out for a holiday, and I have to keep the +whole bed in order!" + +"I should like to wait and play with them," said the Princess, "but I +really am in such a hurry--I've lost my golden shoe." + +"Oh, you're going to the Crab-boy, I suppose?" said the old woman. +"Down the road as straight as you can go, and you'll come to his hut," +and she turned away to the children again. + +Sidigunda took off her slipper, and poured out some drops from her +magic bottle. + +Immediately it grew larger and larger; and she had just time to spring +in, before it galloped away with a series of bounds that made it very +difficult to cling on. + +Faster and faster it went, until the country seemed only a flying +haze; and just as the Princess began to feel she could endure no more, +it stopped abruptly before a small hut. + +Outside the door a boy sat on a stone seat, playing on a long horn +whose notes echoed among the rocky hills that surrounded him. + +Princess Sidigunda looked at the boy with a friendly smile. He stopped +playing, and made room for her to sit down beside him. + +"I knew you were coming," he said. "You want to go to the +Sea-grandmother, don't you?" + +"Yes, I do!" said the Princess. "Do you live here all alone?" + +"Why, of course," replied the Crab-herd, "I look after all the crabs +of the district. You may see me collect them if you like, for if I'm +to go with you now, I must shut them up safely before starting." + +As he said this, he rose, and blowing a few notes on his horn, he +walked slowly along, followed by the Princess. + +As the horn sounded, crabs of every size and colour came darting out +from the stones, and scuttled across the sand towards the Crab-boy. +There were red and green, yellow and brown, large and small--a +procession growing larger and larger, until it reached an enclosed +space, into which the boy guided it, and then shut the gate securely. + +The Princess had dropped down to rest upon a conch-shell, in the shade +of some purple seaweed, and she looked up at the Crab-herd with her +large blue eyes, while he counted his crabs, and chased in one or two +of the stragglers. + +"Is the Sea-grandmother's house far off?" she asked thoughtfully. + +"Up in the great mountains, no distance from here. She lives in a +cave, with plenty of space for her knitting." + +"Does she knit _much_?" enquired Sidigunda. + +"Yes; she knits and spins too. She never leaves off; and never has for +hundreds and thousands of years." + +"What a very old lady she must be! Old enough to be a +great-great-great-grandmother!" cried the Princess in astonishment. + +"If you said three hundred '_greats_' you would be nearer the real +thing," remarked the Crab-boy. "But come now, follow me, and we will +start immediately." + +Princess Sidigunda got up, and taking the Crab-herd's hand, they set +off down the road towards the mountains. + +As they reached the foot of the grey cliffs, the Crab-boy unfolded a +pair of fin-like wings from his elbows, and began to swim +upwards--leaving the little Princess with her arms stretched out +imploringly towards him. + +"Oh, _don't_ leave me here by myself!" she cried. "I shall never find +my way to the Sea-grandmother!" + +"Why there she is, just above us in that cave in the side of the +mountain," said the Crab-boy. "Don't you see her beautiful white hair, +and the flash of her knitting-needles?" + +The Princess looked up, and there sat a beautiful old lady in a hole +in the rock, high, high above them. A crowd of Sea-children played +about her, and seemed to be carrying away the cloud-like white +knitting as fast as it flowed from her busy fingers. + +She bent her head towards Sidigunda, and nodded to her, without +ceasing her work for a moment. + +"Come, Princess, and talk to me!" she called in a sweet, low voice. +"Take your shoe off, and it will bring you here in a moment." + +Sidigunda did as she was told--for the old lady spoke as if she were +used to being obeyed without question--and found herself floating +upwards, until she alighted on a broad ledge right in front of the +Sea-grandmother. + +"So you have come all this way to find your golden shoe?" the old lady +said in her clear, even voice. "Sit down, and tell me all about it." + +The Princess thought the Sea-grandmother's face young and lovely. It +was smooth and unwrinkled; eyes clear as crystal, with blue depths in +them, shining out with a soft benign look; while her slim hands turned +and twisted unceasingly, and her long green dress fell round her in +wave-like folds. + +Her smile was so soft and kind, that the Princess felt as if she had +known her all her life. + +"I have sent for your shoe, my child," she said. "Those tiresome +grandchildren of mine give me a great deal of trouble. I can't keep my +eyes on all of them at once, and so they are always in mischief!" + +Sidigunda looked up in the gentle face; and sat down confidingly +beside the Sea-grandmother. + +"Do you always knit so busily, Grandmother?" she said, as she watched +the white foamy fabric float off the needles. + +"Of course, child. I have been working like this for thousands and +thousands of years. Who do you imagine would provide the waves with +nightcaps if _I_ ever stopped? When the wind blows and they dance, or +when they curl over on the shore, they would be cold indeed, without +my comfortable white nightcaps!" + +"Can you get me my shoe, dear Grandmother?" asked the little Princess +wistfully. + +"Certainly, dear child. Though if you had not come at once, you might +have had to wait a few hundred years or so, before I could have found +it for you. The children wander so far now-a-days! Have you seen it?" +the Sea-grandmother continued, turning to some of the children who +surrounded her. + +"Oh, yes," they answered in chorus. "Just now it floated above us. We +can fetch it in a minute!" + +"Swim away then, as fast as you can!" cried the Sea-grandmother, and +the children darted off like fish through the green clearness of the +water. + +The sound of their laughter had hardly died away in the distance, +before they reappeared, dragging the golden shoe behind them; and the +Princess, with smiles of joy, embraced them all as she drew it on to +her foot again. + +"Oh, thank you, dearest Grandmother! I don't know how I can show you +how grateful I am," cried Sidigunda. + +"By going home at once to your father and mother, and by promising me +_never_ again to be disobedient," said the Sea-grandmother gravely. +"Give me your shoe, and I will order it to take you back to the +Castle." + +She stopped her needles for a moment, and passed her hand over the +slipper: then kissed the little Princess, and waved the knitting +rapidly before her. + +A white cloud seemed to float over Sidigunda, and she felt herself +lifted up with a soothing motion, until on opening her eyes she found +she was once more in the region of the fresh air and sunshine. Looking +round, she saw the ruffled surface of the sea, and the waves breaking +upon the shore before the Castle. + +Her heart beat with happiness, as the golden shoe landed her safely on +the beach; and she ran up through the little gate into the Castle +gardens, right into the arms of her mother, who was pacing up and down +with her attendants, in great anxiety. + +Under the shade of some spreading fir trees the Princess related her +adventures, begging the King and Queen to forgive her for her +disobedience; and the whole Court was so delighted at her return that +everyone forgot to scold her. + +That evening bonfires were lighted on all the hill-tops; and a great +banquet was held in the Castle, at which the Princess appeared amidst +loud cheering, and, holding her father's hand, drank from a golden +goblet to the health of her Godfather, the Shore-Troll, and the +Sea-grandmother. + + + + +THE BADGER'S SCHOOL, + +OR + +THE ADVENTURES OF A BEAR FAMILY. + + +CHAPTER I. + +In the very heart of a great forest in Sweden lived a Bear family, +called "Bjornson." + +They were much respected throughout the whole neighbourhood, for they +were kind and hospitable to everyone; and as their home was in such an +unfrequented part of the country they were able often to give +entertainments which it was quite safe to attend without fear of +Foresters or other human inconveniences. + +Their house was built of large stones, neatly roofed with pine +branches, and was reached by a winding path through the rocks, the +entrance to which had become covered by a dense thicket of bushes. A +small wire had been cunningly arranged by the Bear-father, so that in +the event of any stranger entering the door a bell would be rung in +the Bear-kitchen; but so far the household had fortunately never been +alarmed by this contrivance. + +The two Bjornson children, Knut and Otto, led a very happy life in the +forest. Whenever they liked they could bring some of their young +companions home from the School-house in the evening; and then the +Bear-mother would seat herself on a tree-stump and play tunes for them +to dance to--for Fru Bjornson was highly educated, and had learnt the +concertina in all its branches. + +[Illustration: "THE BEAR-MOTHER HAD LEARNT THE CONCERTINA IN ALL ITS +BRANCHES"] + +This of course was all very delightful: but every morning Knut and +Otto were obliged to start off at daybreak with their books and +satchels for the forest School, and there a time of trouble usually +awaited them. It was kept by an old Badger of very uncertain temper, +and all his pupils stood in great awe of the birch rod which lay in a +conspicuous place upon his writing-table. + +"It's all very well for the Hedgehogs," the scholars often grumbled to +each other. "Of course _they_ can do just what they like, as they +happen to be covered all over with quills--but for _us_ it's a very +different affair!" + +Certainly strict discipline was maintained by the Badger during School +time. His eyes seemed to be upon everyone at once, and it was vain to +try and crack nuts, draw caricatures, or eat peppermint lozenges--the +rod would come down immediately with a _thump_! and the offender, as +he stood in a corner of the room with a fool's cap on, had time to +fully realize the foolishness of his own behaviour. + +Forest History and Arithmetic were the Badger's two favourite studies, +and each pupil was expected to know the Multiplication Table +upside-down, and to be able to give the date of any event in +Bear-history, without a moment's hesitation. + +It was perhaps not to be wondered at that the scholars were glad when +playtime arrived, and that they rushed home helter-skelter, with +shouts of joy, the moment the School-house door was thrown open. + +Many practical jokes had been tried upon the old Schoolmaster, and the +offenders had invariably been severely punished, but one day in early +autumn Knut and Otto, as they walked home with their friends, +suggested a plan which would sweep away at one blow a great part of +the misery of their School life. + +"You know the great History and Arithmetic books that Herr Badger +always keeps on the desk in front of him?" said Knut. "We'll scoop out +the insides and fill them with fireworks. Then directly he comes into +School, we'll let them off. What an explosion there'll be! He _will_ +be frightened! No more sums and dates after that. Hurrah! Hurrah!" + +The scholars jumped about with delight when they heard the young +Bears' idea, and eagerly agreed to join in the mischief. + +Their mothers were quite surprised the next morning to see with what +alacrity they all started for School--half-an-hour earlier than their +usual custom--and Fru Bjornson remarked to her old servant that "she +really believed the children were beginning to take an interest in +their studies _at last_!" + +The old Badger had not yet finished breakfast in his cottage by the +School-house; so his pupils were able to enter the School-room +unobserved, and had soon carried out their simple arrangements. + +An oiled string was attached, winding up the leg of the table to the +fireworks; and the end was to be lighted by Knut the moment Herr +Badger had seated himself. + +Everything being completed, the scholars seized their books; and when +their master appeared in the doorway, murmured a respectful greeting, +to which he responded by a stately bow. + +"Your slates, pupils. We will commence as usual with a few easy sums." + +A subdued groan broke from the scholars; and Knut--stooping down under +pretence of tying up his shoe--applied a match to the string, while +his companions shuffled as loudly as possible, to hide the sound of +the striking. + +"Silence, if you _please_!" shouted the Badger. "Have you come to +school to dance the polka? Attend to this little problem immediately, +and mind it is correctly answered. If 10,000 Bears and a Pole-cat, ran +round a tree 1,500 times and a half, in an hour and ten minutes; each +knocking off one leaf and three-quarters every time he ran round--how +many leaves would be knocked off in a fortnight?" + +"They couldn't do it," muttered a hedgehog derisively. "There +wouldn't be room for a quarter of them!" + +"Make haste! Make haste!" cried the Badger, rapping his desk; but just +at that moment, _whirr!_ _whizz!_ _bang!_ The books flew open with a +loud report, and out sprang the crackers, and began to fizz and bound +about the table. + +Herr Badger's black skull cap tumbled off, and he fell backwards in +his astonishment, shouting for help; while the whole school darted +away through the open door into the woods, in a state of the wildest +delight and excitement. + + +CHAPTER II. + +Fru Bjornson was busily employed in her kitchen, stirring up some +liquid in a large saucepan. It was cranberry jam for the winter, and +on the floor stood a long row of brown jars into which it was to be +poured when the boiling was thoroughly completed. + +The servant, a little thin light-brown Bear, in a large apron, waited +close by, ready to poke the fire, or give any other assistance that +was required of her. + +In the salon, Herr Bjornson, with a pucker on his forehead, was adding +up his Bee accounts--for he kept a number of hives in the garden and +fields belonging to him. + +Suddenly the alarm bell sounded loudly, and in rushed the Bear-mother, +with the jam-ladle in her hand, her hair almost erect with terror. + +"They have found us at last! What shall we do? Where shall we fly to?" +she cried distractedly. + +"Into the ice-cellar," cried Herr Bjornson, "come, Ingold. Everyone +follow me!" and he threw his papers down on the ground and ran out at +the back door. + +Fortunately the ice-cellar was near the house, and the frightened +family were soon safely in its shelter. + +By opening a crack in the small trap-door, which was level with the +ground, they were able to see all that went on in the garden; and the +steps afforded them a place to sit down upon, without touching the +great blocks of ice that looked white and ghostly as the thin streak +of daylight struggled in upon them. + +"Is anyone coming?" whispered the Bear-mother nervously. + +"I can't see anything moving," growled Herr Bjornson. "Keep back, +Mother. I can't help treading upon you. Dear me! How cramped we are +here!" + +"It's terribly cold," said the Bear-mother shivering. "I can feel +myself freezing in every hair." + +"Wrap your shawl round you, and stamp about a little." + +Fru Bjornson attempted to carry out the directions, but the space was +so small there was scarcely room to move in it. + +The air seemed to get colder and colder; Ingold's fur turned +frost-white, and she twined her apron round her head to prevent +herself from being frost-bitten. + +"Oh, this is awful," quaked the Bear-mother. "We shall all die or be +turned into icicles if we can't get out before long!" + +The Bear-father had put up his coat-collar and tied his bandanna +pocket-handkerchief over his ears. His hair was also covered with +white crystals, and he was seized with an attack of coughing which +obliged him to borrow the Bear-mother's shawl to bury his head in, so +that the sound might not be heard outside. + +"This is painful in the extreme," he said in a choked voice as he +emerged gasping. "A cough lozenge at this moment might be the saving +of us!" + +"What shall we do if the enemy hears us!" cried Fru Bjornson. "Here! I +have just found a peppermint-drop in my pocket. Let us divide it into +three. It may be some slight assistance." + +They soon discovered, however, that lozenges were utterly powerless to +keep out that biting air, and the Bear-mother seated herself +resignedly on an ice-block. + +"It's no good struggling against fate," she murmured. "We shall be +found by the children, I suppose. You'd better keep your arms down +straight, father; and freeze as narrow as possible. Then they will be +able to get you out of the opening without much difficulty. It seems +hard to think they will never know the true facts of the case," she +continued mournfully. "Our epitaph will probably be 'Sat down +carelessly in an Ice-house!'" + +"Don't despair, Mother," cried Herr Bjornson, who had one eye +anxiously applied to the crack in the trap-door. "I see the back gate +opening. In another minute we shall know the worst--Hi! What! Well, I +never! Who do you think it is, Mother? Why, _the Schoolmaster_!" + +Herr Badger indeed it was, who had come off in a great hurry to +complain of the disgraceful behaviour of his pupils, and being very +excited had inadvertently trodden on the wire of the alarm bell as he +entered the private grounds of the Bear-family. + +He seemed a little surprised as the strange procession suddenly rose +up out of the ground in front of him, but without making any enquiries +as to what they had been doing there, he plunged at once into the +history of his wrongs. + + +CHAPTER III. + +All day the Badger's scholars enjoyed themselves in the forest. They +played leap-frog, ran races, bathed in the river, had lunch in a shady +hollow, and picked more cranberries than they knew what to do with; +but as evening came on, they began to wonder a little anxiously +whether the Schoolmaster would already have been round to their +parents to complain of their behaviour; and when Knut and Otto entered +their own door in the bushes, their knees were shaking under them, and +it occurred to them that perhaps the fireworks hadn't been quite so +amusing as they expected, after all! + +They were met by Herr Bjornson with a gloomy frown. There was no doubt +that Herr Badger had told him everything, and the little Bears waited +tremblingly for what was to happen next. + +"What is this that I hear?" commenced the Father-bear angrily. "Your +respected Master ill-treated in his own School-house. Thrown violently +upon the ground, with crackers exploding round him for several hours! +What have you to say for yourselves?" + +"Please, father, we didn't mean to hurt him," began Knut in a piping +voice; "It was only to get rid of the books. We won't do it again!" + +"I should think _not_, indeed," said Herr Bjornson. "I shall punish +you myself severely to-morrow, after School time, and Herr Badger is +going to give you two hours' extra Arithmetic every day for a +fortnight." + +Knut and Otto crept off miserably into the garden, and that evening +there was no dancing, and the Bear-mother's concertina was silent. + +Before it was daylight next morning, Knut had awakened Otto. They had +determined the night before that they would _never_ return to Herr +Badger's rule, and the matter of the extra Arithmetic had settled +their determination. + +They started with their cloaks, and with lunch in their satchels, as +if going to School--leaving a note for their mother upon the kitchen +dresser. + +This letter was written with the stump of a lead pencil, and ran as +follows:-- + + "_To the well-born Fru Bjornson._ + + "_We cant keep at ilt any mor. We want to be inderpendent, and the + sums are 2 mutch. We sik our fortones, and return wen we ar rich._ + + "KNUT. OTTO." + +As soon as they reached the forest, the two little Bears ran forward +as quickly as they could towards the river. + +They intended to take any canoe they found by the shore, and row +themselves over to the opposite side. They did not know exactly what +they should do when they got there; but anyhow, they would be safe +from punishment when they were once over. + +As they went along they kept as much as possible behind the underwood, +though it was so early it was scarcely likely that any of the +charcoal-burners or fishermen would be stirring. + +After some search they discovered a small canoe drawn up under the +bushes, and untying it without much difficulty, they got in, and Knut +paddled actively out into the strong current. + +"This _is_ independence!" cried Otto, arranging the knapsacks and +cloaks in the bow of the boat, and taking up the steering-paddle. +"What would Herr Badger say if he could see us now?"--and he chuckled. + +All day they drifted down the river--watching the salmon dart about +the boulders, and the trout leap in the curling eddies. It was so +silent in the great forest, with the pine trees growing close to the +edge of the water, that at last the little Bears' high spirits began +to fail them; and as the evening came on their laughter ceased, and +they sat quietly in the canoe, steering their way between the great +rocks without speaking. + +"How strong the current is here," muttered Otto at last. "I can +scarcely keep the boat straight!" + +"Well, let's land and find some place to sleep in," cried Knut--but +this was more easily said than done. The moment they tried to turn the +canoe in towards the shore, it began to whirl round and round; and +finally striking against a stone, it upset the two little Bears into +the middle of the foaming river. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +Fortunately Knut and Otto were good swimmers, and they were able after +some struggling to scramble to the shore; but they found to their +great annoyance that they had landed on the same side as that from +which they had started. + +Their canoe was whirling rapidly away down the rapids, and it was +useless to think of recovering it; so the two little Bears proceeded +to dry their clothes as well as they could, and then looked about to +see if they could find a comfortable place to sleep in. + +A large hollow tree stood close to the edge of the river, and into +this they climbed, and being very tired they were soon fast asleep. + +They were awakened by voices. + +"It's _men_!" whispered Otto, clutching Knut's arm in terror. "Oh, why +did we ever run away! They'll be _sure_ to find us!" + +"Be quiet, Otto," muttered Knut. "Do you want them to hear? Lie still, +and I'll think of some way to escape." + +"Are you sure this is the right tree?" said a man's voice. + +"Don't you see the mark?" asked another. "The Forester put it on +himself; though it's rather high up. You'd better begin work at once, +or you'll not get through with it before he comes round again." + +This was awful. Otto trembled so that he could hear his own teeth +chattering; but Knut kept his presence of mind, and poking his brother +warningly, said in a hoarse whisper, + +"Wait till I give the signal, and then jump out after me as high in +the air as you can. Follow me till I tell you to stop." + +An echoing blow resounded against the tree trunk, which made Knut fly +up like a sky-rocket. + +"Now!" he cried, and bounding on to the edge of the opening, he jumped +right over the heads of the woodmen into the tangled bushes, followed +by Otto, and away they raced through the forest, before the astonished +men could recover themselves. + +"What in the world was that?" cried the wood-cutters, rubbing their +eyes and blinking; but no one had been able to see more than two +flying brown balls, and after hunting about in vain, they decided it +must have been a couple of gigantic owls. + +Only one thing did they find in the hollow tree, and that certainly +puzzled them--a small piece of crumpled paper, on which was sketched a +life-like picture of a Badger with a fool's cap on his head; +underneath, written in cramped letters-- + +"_How would you like it?_" + +After running for about half an hour, Knut sank down panting on a +juniper bush, while Otto rolled upon the moss thoroughly exhausted. + +"Arithmetic was better than this!" he panted dismally, fanning himself +with a large fern leaf. "History was better--_anything_ was better!" + +"Well, we're quite safe here for the present," replied Knut, "so don't +worry yourself any more. I'm so tired I can't keep awake, and I'm sure +you can't." And, indeed, in spite of their fright, in a few minutes +both the little Bears were sound asleep again. + +When they next opened their eyes, the sun was glinting through the +pine trees; and looking down on them benignly, stood a Fox in +travelling dress, with a soft felt hat upon his head. + +He smiled graciously upon Knut, and beckoned him to come out of the +juniper bushes. + +"Ha! ha! my good gentlemen, you are taking a comfortable rest in a +very secluded spot, but you can't escape _my_ observation!" he cried +cheerfully. "Are you on your way to some foreign Court--or perhaps you +are couriers with State secrets?" + +The two little Bears, feeling very flattered, sat up and straightened +their tunics. + +"The truth is, we are seeking our fortunes," said Knut with dignity. + +"Oh, nothing easier," replied the Fox. "You come with me. Such hearty, +well-grown young Bears will find no difficulty in getting excellent +situations. I can almost promise you each a large income if you +implicitly follow my directions." + +"Where should we go to, then?" asked Knut cautiously. + +"To a dear friend of mine, who employs an immense number of workmen," +said the Fox easily. "I will just let you see who I am before we +proceed further," and he drew a case from his pocket, and taking out a +card, presented it to the little Bears with a low bow. + +"Just as if we were grown up!" whispered Otto. "Oh, Knut, how +different this is to Herr Badger!" + +On the card, printed in elegant copper-plate, was the following-- + +"_Herr Kreutzen, Under-Secretary (and Working Member) of the Society +for promoting the welfare of Farmers._" + +Knut looked at Herr Kreutzen respectfully. + +"If you'll be so kind as to show us the way, we'll follow you at +once," he said. "If we could get a little breakfast on the way, we +should be glad; for we have lost our satchels, and berries are not +very satisfying." + +"Come along, then!" said the Fox briskly; and seizing the two little +Bears by the paw, he dragged them into the heart of the forest at a +rapid pace. + + +CHAPTER V. + +On the day after his visit to the Bjornson family, Herr Badger, +feeling very dull, sat alone in the cottage by the School-house. + +Every one of his pupils had deserted him; for not only had the two +little Bears run away, but all their companions had also played +truant; and the whole of that part of the forest was filled with +parents anxiously searching for their missing children--like a +gigantic game of hide-and-seek. + +Herr Badger called to his housekeeper to bring him the black-board, a +couple of globes, and the book of conic-sections, and for some hours +he amused himself happily; but at the end of that time he began to +experience an almost irresistible desire to teach something. + +"If I can't get anyone else, I'll call Brita," he said to himself. "I +can just ask her a few easy questions suited to her limited +intellect." + +The housekeeper came in, curtsying respectfully, and seated herself at +the table, as she was bidden. + +"I must imagine I have given up school, and taken to private pupils," +the Badger said to himself. "I hope she won't exasperate me, and make +me lose my temper! Now take this slate," he continued aloud, "and try +and do one of these simple sums. You'll soon get used to them-- + +"If five onions were to be boiled in six saucepans, how would you +divide the onions so that there would be exactly the same quantity in +each pan?" + +"Chop them up," replied the housekeeper promptly. + +The Badger glared. "You're not attending. I said, 'How would you +_divide_ them!'" + +"You might mince them very fine, or pound them in a mortar," replied +the housekeeper anxiously. "I don't know of no other way of doing it." + +"Work it out on the slate, creature!--on the _slate_!" cried Herr +Badger, thumping the table with his long ruler. + +"I'd rather do it on a dish, sir," said the housekeeper, trembling. +"It's more what I'm accustomed to." + +Herr Badger started up in a fury. "_You_ call yourself a private +pupil?" he shouted (quite forgetting that the housekeeper had never +called herself anything of the kind). "Go back to the kitchen +immediately." + +"I could bring you the Mole who blacks the boots, if _he'd_ be any +good," said the housekeeper humbly. "I know I'm very ignorant, but the +Mole tells me he's been attending day school for years, and he reads +recipes out of the cookery-book quite beautiful." + +"Don't speak to me of Moles!" said the Badger crossly. "I shall take +no more private pupils--they're not worth it." And he walked over to +the black-board, and began to draw diagrams. + +"What's the good of diagrams, without a class to explain them to?" he +muttered. "I declare I believe I _was_ too hard on those children. We +can't be all equally gifted. It wouldn't be a bad idea if I went out +as one of the search parties. I declare I _will_!" he continued, his +face brightening, "and I'll make every creature I find promise to come +back to school again. I must make up a class somehow, or I shall die +of monotony." + +He took down his old felt hat with the ear-flaps, and putting some +food in a knapsack, and choosing a stout walking-stick, he flung a +green cloak over his shoulders, and let himself out into the forest. + + +CHAPTER VI. + +The Fox took the two little Bears on so quickly, that they soon began +to feel both cross and tired. To their anxious enquiries as to where +they were going, and whether they could not soon have some breakfast, +Herr Kreutzen answered vaguely that they would very soon reach their +destination, and should have as much breakfast as they could possibly +care for. + +"My friends are kind worthy people, and you'll find every sort of +luxury," he said, smiling benignly. + +"We seem to be coming near a town," whispered Knut to Otto. "I don't +quite like this!" and he tried to pull his paw away from the good +"Secretary of the Society for promoting the welfare of Farmers." + +"Come along, my dear child. We are almost there," cried the Fox. "I am +just going to tie you both up to this tree for a minute--merely to be +sure you are quite safe and happy in my absence--and I shall return +with my kind friend, in no time!" + +Herr Kreutzen took some string from his pocket as he spoke, and the +two little Bears--who saw there was no use in struggling--submitted to +be fastened together to a fir tree. + +As soon as the Fox had disappeared, Otto burst into a loud roar of +terror. + +"Oh, he's going to do something dreadful, I know he is! We shall +never, _never_ get away again!" + +"It's no good making that noise," said Knut, angrily. "Leave off, +Otto, and let me think." + +"You may think for ever," wailed Otto, "and unless you've got a pocket +knife you won't get these knots undone!" and he began to cry again +with renewed vigour. + +"Why, whatever is the matter?" said a friendly voice close by. + +The little Bears looked round eagerly, and saw that an elderly Badger +was approaching. He was evidently a woodcutter, for he had a large axe +in his hand, and the three young Badgers who followed him were +carrying neatly-tied bundles of sticks. + +Knut stretched out his paw beseechingly. + +"_Please_ cut the string! Oh, _please_, Herr Badger, make haste, and +let us get free. Herr Kreutzen will be back in a minute, and then +there'll be _no_ hope for us!" + +"So this is some of _his_ work!" said the Badger angrily. "I declare +that creature is a plague to the whole forest!" + +With two blows of his axe he cut the strings that bound the little +Bears; and ordering them to follow him to a place of safety, he darted +through the bushes with his children, and never stopped until they +came out into a secluded valley, at the end of which, in a small +clearing, stood a hut built of pine logs. + +Before the door sat the Badger-mother with some plain sewing, while +five of the young Badger-children played about on the grass in front +of her. + +"You're home early to-day, father," she said cheerfully, and added, as +she caught sight of the little Bears--"Why, wherever did you pick up +these strangers, father?" + +The Badger described the unpleasant position in which he had found +them; and the whole family gathering round, Knut related their +adventures truthfully from the very beginning. + +"I'll tell you where the Fox was taking you, my children," said the +Badger-mother; "There's a Wild Beast Show in the town at this present +moment, and Herr Kreutzen has already enticed two or three animals +into it. He is well paid by the showman, and would have made a good +thing out of you, because you could have been taught to dance. Oh, +what a miserable fate you have escaped from!" + +Knut and Otto looked thoroughly ashamed of themselves, and began to +realize what their foolishness might have led them into. + +However, no one could be miserable for long at a time in the Badger +family; they were all so happy and light-hearted--so after a good +dinner, the two little Bears ran out into the garden, and forgot their +troubles in a romp with the children. + +"You did not know your old schoolmaster was a cousin of ours?" +remarked the Badger-mother, as they rested, later on, under a shady +fir tree. "He really is a worthy creature at heart, and you ought all +to try and put up with him as much as possible." + +"We really _will_," cried the two little Bears heartily. "If ever we +get back again, we really _will_!" and they thoroughly intended to +keep their promises. + +"I think this evening you should start for home before it grows dusk," +said the Badger-mother. "Father will see you well on your way, and +your parents must be longing to hear of you. Come into the house now, +and I will make you look respectable." + +Knut and Otto were all obedience, and followed the Badger-mother +meekly to the kitchen. Here she took down two large scrubbing-brushes, +and proceeded to give them a thorough tidying. Then their faces were +soaped, and finally two of the young Badgers' caps were placed upon +their heads--for their own had fallen off when they were upset into +the river. + +The elastics were very tight under their chins, but they refrained +from saying anything--and this showed how complete was their +reformation! + +Just as all the preparations were completed, there came a loud knock +at the door; and the Schoolmaster himself appeared, his clothes torn, +one flap off his hat, a bandage covering his right eye, leading in a +little crowd of scholars that he had collected with infinite toil from +many perilous positions. + +There were two Hedgehogs, a young Fox, five Badgers, a Mole, and a +tame Guinea-pig. All of them were more or less scratched, and dismal +looking; and some had evidently been in the water, for their clothes +were still dripping, and hung round them in the most uncomfortable +manner. + +"What! _you_ here, after all! Well, this is a happy meeting!" cried +Herr Badger, embracing the little Bears warmly. "I wasn't going home +till I'd found you--and here you are. A most fortunate coincidence!" + +"Sit down, sit down, cousin," said the Badger-mother hospitably. +"Bring in the pupils, and let them dry their hair before the +fire--they seem in a sad state, poor things!" + +"They certainly _do_ look a little untidy," said the Badger, "but we +shall soon remedy all that. I have been explaining to the class (at +least to as much as I've got of it)," he continued, turning to Knut, +"that the plan of the School is to be entirely reformed--ten minutes' +Arithmetic per day, and History _once_ weekly. What do you say to +that, children?" + +A feeble cheer arose from the pupils; and the two little Bears, +throwing themselves upon their knees, begged their Master's pardon for +all the trouble they had caused him. + + +CHAPTER VII. + +Fru Bjornson, seated on a camp-stool by the side of the entrance gate +to her house, was looking anxiously around her. Close by stood Ingold, +with one eye tightly screwed up, and an old-fashioned telescope in her +hand, trying in vain to adjust the focus. + +"What do you see now?" enquired the Bear-mother, leaning forward. + +"A great fog with snakes in it!" replied the servant truthfully. + +"Why, those are _trees_, of course!" said Fru Bjornson. "Turn the +screw a little more, and it will become as plain as possible." + +Ingold twisted her hand several times rapidly, and again applied her +eye to the end. + +"It doesn't seem like snakes now, does it?" asked the Bear-mother +triumphantly. + +"Oh, no! It's turned to milk with green splashes in it," said Ingold. + +"You don't see anything of my darling children, then?" enquired Fru +Bjornson. + +"Nothing at all, ma'am," said Ingold. "A telescope may be a wonderful +thing for those who haven't any eyes, but really I think _I_ see +better _without_ it." + +At this moment, through the trees, an extraordinary procession came in +sight; which caused the Bear-mother to jump up from her seat with a +cry of joy. + +Herr Badger, with his cloak thrown over one shoulder, leading Knut and +Otto by the hand; and behind them the rest of the pupils in single +file--depressed and gloomy, but resigned to whatever Fate might have +in store for them. + +Fru Bjornson ran forward, and clasped her children in her arms. + +It was a happy meeting; and as she thought the Schoolmaster would +already have gone through all the scolding that was necessary, she +refrained from adding a word more. + +"I've got the class together, ma'am," said Herr Badger triumphantly, +"and I'm never going to let it go again! The new School system +commences from to-morrow!" + + * * * * * + +All the parents agreed that the children had been sufficiently +punished during their wanderings in the forest, and they were +therefore allowed to return to their homes, without anything more +being said on the subject. + +The next morning the scholars assembled at the School-house in +excellent time; but most of them unfortunately, having lost their +satchels, were obliged to carry their books and luncheon, wrapped up +in untidy brown paper parcels--which was certainly very mortifying. + +"My dear pupils," commenced Herr Badger, as he entered the room and +bowed graciously, "on this auspicious occasion, I wish to call the +Arithmetic class for ten minutes only. We will begin, if you please, +with 'twice one'--repeating it three times over _without a failure_!" + + + + +BOBBIE'S TWO SHILLINGS. + +A Guinea-Pig Story. + + +CHAPTER I. + +On a sloping lawn, before an old-fashioned, rambling house, Bobbie and +Jerry were playing at nine-pins on a hot day in August. + +Under the shade of a cedar tree the under-nurse sat working; and "Aunt +Lucy"--an old lady with snow-white hair, crowned by a black mushroom +hat--was slowly pacing the gravel walk, digging out a weed here and +there with a long spud she carried for the purpose. + +Jerry was only playing nine-pins because Bobbie was so fond of them. +She did not care for them herself, for she thought that as she was ten +years old they were too babyish, but Bobbie was only eight, so of +course it was not to be expected of him that he would care for +"grown-up" things. + +There was a pleasant buzzing in the air, as old Jeptha Funnel led the +donkey in the mowing machine, up and down the wide lawn, pausing every +now and then to exchange a few words with the children. + +"When are you a-coming to tea with us, Master Bobbie, and +Missy?" he enquired, stopping to fan his heated face with a red +pocket-handkerchief. "James Seton's got some guinea-pigs that he talks +of bringing over for you to see, any day as you'll fix upon." + +"Oh, that _is_ nice. I do so long to have another!" cried Bobbie +rapturously. "I only want three-halfpence-farthing more, and I shall +have enough in my money-box to pay for it. Will James wait till +Friday?" + +"Of course he will, Master Bobbie; don't you worry your head about +that." + +"Well, it's an extraordinary thing, Jeptha, but you can't think how +I've been saving, and saving, and _saving_ for that guinea-pig; and it +seems as if I never _should_ have enough," said Bobbie confidentially. +"I saved up for 'Funnel'--the one that's called after you, you +know--in no time; but we were up in Scotland then, and there wasn't +hardly any shops that I _could_ spend my money in." + +"Things always _do_ seem a long time a-coming when you're longing for +them, so to speak, day and night, sir." + +"Yes, it's quite true that 'a watch-pocket never boils,'" said Bobbie. +"I shall leave off rattling the money-box, and try and forget all +about it till Friday." + +"You're right there, sir," said Jeptha, not noticing the new rendering +of the proverb, for he was as fond of long words and sentences as +Bobbie himself; "you come right up to the cottage on Friday, along of +nurse and Miss Jerry. The missus 'll have tea for you, and _I'll_ see +that Jim brings the guinea-pigs." + +"Does James Seton know anything about cats?" enquired Jerry eagerly. +"You know they're _my_ favourite animals--just like guinea-pigs are +Bobbie's--and I do want to get some new recipes for my cat-book!" + +"Why whatever is a cat-book, Miss Jerry?" asked Jeptha curiously. + +"Don't you know, Jeptha? I write down all sorts of cures for cats, and +what they ought to eat; and several times it's been very useful to +Miss Meadows and Maria." + +"I can't say _I_ know much about the subject, Miss Jerry, nor I don't +think Jim doesn't, neither, never having made a study of it, as you +may say. Miss Meadders is the tabby cat, ain't she? A very fine cat I +call her." + +"Yes; I made a portrait of her and Maria, to send to mamma out in +India, and Bobbie made a picture of Funnel (not _you_, you know). She +liked them so much. Shall I tell you why Bobbie is so interested in +guinea-pigs?" continued Jerry, taking the old man's hand, and speaking +in a mysterious whisper. + +"You know Jack belongs to the 'Cavey Club' at school, where all the +boys _must_ keep guinea-pigs; and he wrote Bobbie a letter last term +with a picture of a guinea-pig on the flap of the envelope, and 'Where +is it?' written where the tail ought to be. Ever since then Bobbie has +been _mad_ after guinea-pigs." + +"Yes, I can remember Master Jack a-walking in here with ten of 'em," +said Jeptha, "and keepin' 'em in the lumber room in houses made out of +cigar-boxes." + +"Oh, but Aunt Lucy found it out, and wouldn't allow it," said Jerry. +"They all had to be taken out to the stable yard again." + +"I must own I think on _that_ occasion yer Aunt was reasonable, Miss +Jerry; a guinea-pig don't seem a kind of a domestic indoor +animal--like a cat, for instance." + +"Will you have mufflings and crumfits for tea, do you think, when we +come?" enquired Bobbie, after a thoughtful pause. "Excuse me asking +you, but I do like them so very much." + +"Oh, Bobbie, you shouldn't say that!" cried Jerry, reprovingly; "it's +very impolite. Aunt Lucy would be quite _horrified_!" + +"Well, I don't _mean_ anything rude," said Bobbie. "I _do_ like them, +and I can't help it. I can't see why it's any more rude than if I said +I liked guinea-pigs." + + +CHAPTER II. + +The next day was a very wet one; and Aunt Lucy, coming up into the +schoolroom in the morning--as she invariably did, even during the +holidays--saw a most extraordinary collection of baskets standing on +the floor, in front of a small fire of sticks blazing away in the +fireplace. + +There was a large covered market basket, a fish bag with a skewer +through the top, and a small japanese basket, with a lid which was +kept in place by the poker and tongs laid carefully over it. + +The baskets were all occasionally agitated from within; and Aunt Lucy +found on enquiry that they contained the guinea-pig family, who having +been flooded out of their usual quarters by the rain, had been brought +in to a fire by Bobbie to be dried! + +"I really object to these animals in the house!" said Aunt Lucy, +trying to be severe; but Bobbie's face was so pathetic, she did not +order them to be taken out at once, as she had at first intended. + +"As soon as they are dry you must move them away, Bobbie," she +continued; "I have had quite enough trouble with Jack's. I can't have +the house turned into a menagerie." + +"Really, Aunt Lucy, you needn't mind Habbakuk and Funnel--they are so +very well behaved. I _have_ been debillerating whether I ought to +bring in Pompey, because his hair _streams_ out--but he did look so +cold and mis'rable, I thought you wouldn't objec'." + +At this moment a housemaid came up to say there were visitors in the +drawing-room. + +"It is your two uncles from India," said Aunt Lucy, taking Bobbie's +reluctant hand. "They have come on purpose to see you, so you must +leave the guinea-pigs for a minute--Jerry can stay with them, and +come down as soon as you return." + +Bobbie departed groaning, while the under-nurse good-naturedly made up +the fire, and began to dry the guinea-pigs with an old duster. + +In a few minutes Bobbie returned, his fat round face red with the +exertion of scrambling upstairs, his brown eyes sparkling. + +"What are they like?" enquired Jerry, who was not fond of visitors, as +Anne brushed at her curly hair, and tried in vain to flatten it to the +nursery regulation of smoothness. + +"Oh, two middle-aged, light gentlemen," replied Bobbie carelessly. +"One gave me a shilling to buy a guinea-pig, so now I'm quite safe in +telling James to bring them on Friday." And Bobbie seated himself +before the fire with Habbakuk and Funnel on his knees, and rubbed away +at them vigorously. + +Jerry retired downstairs, but reappeared in a very short time--rushing +into the room again like a whirlwind. + +"What do you think the uncles have promised us, Bobbie?" she cried +excitedly; "guess the most beautifullest thing you can possibly think +of!" + +"Guin----" commenced Bobbie, and checked himself hastily. + +"Certainly not!" said Jerry, with decision. "I said I must run up and +tell you, you'd be so _wild_ with joy; it begins with a 'P'--but it +isn't 'pig.' Now guess again." + +"Prawns, p'rambulators, prongs, pastry," commenced Bobbie rapidly. +"Well, none of those are very nice except pastry. I can't think of +anything more, Jerry, you _must_ tell me." + +"Pantomime!" said Jerry, triumphantly; "_next Saturday!_--what do you +say to that?" + +Bobbie's eyes twinkled. "With preserved seats, like we had last time! +Oh, splendid!" and he began to caper about the room with delight. + +"Well, this _has_ been a day!" he exclaimed, as he sank down, quite +exhausted. "What a lot for my diary! I'd better write it out at once, +before I forget it." + +A large book, interleaved with blotting-paper, was disinterred from +the play-box, and Bobbie sat down before it solemnly. + +The greater part of this book was filled with minute accounts of what +time its owner got up, and went to bed, what pudding he had for +dinner, and what lessons he learnt; but on this occasion the entry +assumed such large proportions that it spread right over the next day, +and was wandering into "Friday," when Bobbie suddenly remembered the +tea-party, and that room must certainly be left for _that_! + +Jerry, looking over his shoulder, when he had finished, read the +following, adorned with many blots and smudges:-- + + "Had sutch a day. 2 lite gentlemen who turnered into Unkels ('You + mean, "turned _out_ to be uncles,"' corrected Jerry) came And gave + me 1 shiling for the brown ginny-pig I acepted with thanks they + are goin to tak us Jerry and me to the pantermine and tea at Mrs. + Funnels on Fryday (not the Unkels but nurs). + + "P.S.--Plenty mor to say but no rume. cant put the puding to-day." + + +CHAPTER III. + +One of Bobbie's and Jerry's greatest treats was to have tea at the +cottage on the edge of the park, where old Mrs. Funnel presided over a +table covered with cakes and home-made delicacies. + +She always liked them to appear in good time; so punctually at four +o'clock on Friday, the invited tea-party--consisting of "Old Nurse," +in a crackling black silk, Jerry in spotless frilled cotton, and +Bobbie in a white sailor's suit, bristling with starch and pearl +buttons--made their way through the little garden of the Funnels' +house, and rapped importantly on the door with the end of nurse's +umbrella. + +Mrs. Funnel, who had been awaiting the summons, welcomed them +heartily; and Bobbie was relieved to see--on taking a cursory glance +at the table--that besides the usual array of good things, there was a +covered dish, which meant, as he knew by experience--muffins. + +Jeptha, in his Sunday coat, with a red geranium in his button-hole, +looked cheerfully conscious of his own splendour; and his wife's +little wrinkled face beamed with kindness and hospitality. + +"Jim can't get away yet, I'm sorry to say," she said, "but he'll be in +afterwards. Sit down, all of you, please. Draw up to the table, +ma'am!" + +Bobbie deposited his dog-skin gloves carefully in his hat, and seated +himself solemnly, trying to keep his eyes off the plum cake, for the +sake of good manners. + +"This bread's a bit heavy, mother!" remarked Jeptha, grappling with a +large loaf in the centre of the table. + +"I don't know how that can be," replied Mrs. Funnel cheerfully. "It +rose enough." + +"Then it must ha' sat down again!" said Jeptha. "It's that worritting +oven, ma'am"--turning to nurse; "I assure you we _do_ have a time with +it sometimes." + +The tea began merrily, and just in the middle of it the door opened, +and James Seton's sunburnt face looked in. He carried a basket which +Bobbie pounced upon eagerly, for he knew it contained the +long-expected guinea-pigs. + +Behind Jim stood a little woe-begone creature in a ragged dress, her +head covered by a large crumpled sun-bonnet. The tears were rolling +down her face, and in her hand she held the bottom of a broken glass +medicine bottle. + +"Look here, grandmother," said Jim, "I picked up this unfort'net +little mortal just outside the Lodge gates. She'd been into town to +buy some lotion for her sick mother, and she went and fell up against +a stone, and smashed her bottle; and now she's in a terrible state of +mind about it." + +The little girl was still crying bitterly; and Bobbie, who was very +tender-hearted, furtively wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, +and looked hard out of the window. + +"Sit you down, child, and have some tea. You're fair worn out with +misery," said Mrs. Funnel kindly. "After that we'll think of what's to +be done. How much did the medicine cost, child?" + +"Two shillings," said the child, with a fresh burst of sobbing. + +Bobbie discovered, to his great annoyance, that two large tears had +fallen down his own cheeks out of sympathy; and at the same moment he +seemed to feel his little wash-leather purse growing so large, that he +almost fancied in another moment it would burst out of his pocket. + +Exactly two shillings were in it--the price of the bottle of lotion, +or of two of Jim's guinea-pigs! Which should it be? + +"If only I hadn't bought Maria's collar last Monday, I could have got +you a bottle _easily_," cried Jerry, in great distress. "I've only +twopence-halfpenny left, but _do_ take it. Oh, you poor little girl, I +_am_ so sorry for you!" + +Bobbie felt very guilty, and his money seemed to weigh upon him like +lead. He watched the attractive brown guinea-pigs--who had been let +out of their basket--gambol about the parlour. His mind was a chaos. + +Suddenly he snatched out his purse, and thrust the two shillings into +the little girl's hand, before she could say anything. + +"Get the medicine, please," he said, in a gruff voice. "I don't want +the guinea-pigs, thank you, Jim." And opening the door hurriedly, he +darted off across the park towards home. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +"I do think it was one of the goodest things I ever heard of," said +Jerry confidentially, as she drove with one of the "light gentlemen" +to the pantomime. + +She had just finished an account of Bobbie's heroic sacrifice of the +day before; and as Bobbie himself was following in a hansom cab, with +the other uncle, it was quite safe to relate the whole story without +fear of interruptions. + +"He wanted those guinea-pigs _dreadfully_," continued Jerry, "and he +gave everything he had to the poor little girl. He cried horribly +about it, though. He was literally _roaring_ when we got back from +Mrs. Funnel's tea, though he went and hid himself so that we shouldn't +know; but nurse said his blouse was quite _damp_!" + +"Shall we go round on our way back, and order Bobbie some new +guinea-pigs, as a surprise?" asked Uncle Ronald, who had listened to +the story with all the respectful sympathy expected of him. + +Jerry gave a shriek of delight. "Oh, how _lovely_! May I choose? I +know just his favourite colours." + +As Bobbie took his usual stroll into the stable yard on Monday +morning, he was astonished to see Jeptha approaching him with a large +box on a wheelbarrow. + +"Summut for you, Master Bobbie. Come by rail; and there seems to be a +deal of moving about and squeaking a-goin' on inside!" + +Bobbie unfastened the covers with feverish haste; and there was a +hutch such as he had never even _dreamt_ of, with a row of four little +eager noses sticking out between the bars. + +A label hanging to the wire said, "From the two light gentlemen." + +"Well now, Master Bobbie, if ever I saw the like of that!" cried +Jeptha admiringly. "Why, they're all a-sittin' as comfortable as you +please, in a kind of a Eastern palace." + +Bobbie, who was almost delirious with delight and excitement, ran in +to fetch Jerry. + +"Oh, Jerry, come out!" he cried. "The light gentlemen--in a splendid +blue cage with red stripes, come by train! And such guinea-pigs! Just +the kind I wanted--two long-hair. Oh, I do think this is the +splendidest day of my life, and as long as I live I won't never forget +it!" + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Soap-Bubble Stories, by Fanny Barry + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOAP-BUBBLE STORIES *** + +***** This file should be named 28263-8.txt or 28263-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/2/6/28263/ + +Produced by Marcia Brooks, Woodie4, David Edwards and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net +(This file was produced from images generously made +available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +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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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/28263-8.zip b/28263-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e38e62a --- /dev/null +++ b/28263-8.zip diff --git a/28263-h.zip b/28263-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bb8a7d0 --- /dev/null +++ b/28263-h.zip diff --git a/28263-h/28263-h.htm b/28263-h/28263-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fd64e76 --- /dev/null +++ b/28263-h/28263-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7700 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Soap-Bubble Stories, by Fanny Barry + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; } + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both;} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto;} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + width: auto} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left;} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; } + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; } + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Soap-Bubble Stories, by Fanny Barry + +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: Soap-Bubble Stories + For Children + +Author: Fanny Barry + +Release Date: March 6, 2009 [EBook #28263] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOAP-BUBBLE STORIES *** + + + + +Produced by Marcia Brooks, Woodie4, David Edwards and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net +(This file was produced from images generously made +available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p>Transcribers notes:<br /> +Alternative spelling and hyphenation have been retained as they appear +in the original publication. Changes have been made as follows:<br /><br /> + +Page 125. on the top of a dias <i>changed to</i> on the top of a dais<br /><br /> + +Page 131. tobogganned down a steep <i>changed to</i> tobogganed down a steep<br /><br /></p> + + +<h2>SOAP-BUBBLE STORIES</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 277px;"> +<img src="images/image001.png" width="277" height="400" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h1>Soap-Bubble Stories.</h1> + +<h2>FOR CHILDREN.</h2> + +<h5>BY</h5> + +<h2><i>FANNY BARRY</i>,</h2> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Author of "The Fox Family," "The Obstinate Elm Leaf," "The Bears +of Wundermerk," etc.</span></h4> + +<h3>New York:</h3> + +<h3>JAMES POTT & CO., 14 & 16, ASTOR PLACE.</h3> + +<h4>1892.<br /></h4> + +<h5>To</h5> + +<h4>VERA, ELSIE,<br /> +OSKAR, OLGA, ERIK,<br /> +NEVA, JESSIE,<br /> +LEO, DOROTHY, CLAUDE</h4> + +<h5>AND</h5> + +<h4>HERBERT.<br /></h4> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/image013a.png" width="400" height="81" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>It was twilight and the children tired of playing gathered +round the fire.</p> + +<p>Outside, the snow fell softly, softly; and the bare trees shook +their branches in the keen air. The pleasant glow of the blazing +logs lighted up the circle of happy faces, and peopled the distant +corners with elfin shadows.</p> + +<p>All the afternoon the children, pipe in hand, with soap suds +before them, had been blowing airy bubbles that caught the gleams +of a hundred flying rainbows—but now in the fading daylight, the +pipes were put aside, and they threw themselves down on the fur rug, +and looked with thoughtful eyes into the caverns of the fire.</p> + +<p>"What can we do now?" they cried, "Won't <i>you</i> make us +some bubbles?"</p> + +<p>And someone sitting in the shadow, who had watched and +admired their handiwork; whipped up some white froth in a fairy +basin, and taking a pipe, she blew them some bubbles.</p> + +<p>Not so beautiful as the children's own, with their pure reflections +of the light and sunshine—but the best she could fashion with +the materials she had at hand; for the only soap she could find +was Imagination, and her pipe was a humble black pen.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/image013b.png" width="400" height="72" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h3>Contents.</h3> + + + + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='right'>PAGE</td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>THE TROLL IN THE CHURCH FOUNTAIN</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>THE IMP IN THE CHINTZ CURTAIN</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>HEARTSEASE</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>A STORY OF SIENA</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_27">27</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>THE STONE-MAIDEN</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>THE GRASS OF PARNASSUS</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>THE HEDGEHOGS' COFFEE PARTY</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>UNCLE VOLODIA</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>THE ANGEL AND THE LILIES</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>THE ALPEN-ECHO</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>THE SCROLL IN THE MARKET PLACE</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_103">103</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>A SCRAP OF ETRUSCAN POTTERY</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_109">109</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>THE GOATS ON THE GLACIER</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>THE GREAT LADY'S CHIEF-MOURNER</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_139">139</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>DAME FOSSIE'S CHINA DOG</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_142">142</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>PRINCESS SIDIGUNDA'S GOLDEN SHOES</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>THE BADGER'S SCHOOL</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_179">179</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align='left'>BOBBIE'S TWO SHILLINGS</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_203">203</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="The_Troll_in_the_Church_Fountain" id="The_Troll_in_the_Church_Fountain"></a>The Troll in the Church Fountain.</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> +<p>It was a village of fountains. They poured from the +sides of houses, bubbled up at street corners, +sprang from stone troughs by the roadside, and +one even gushed from the very walls of the old Church itself, +and fell with a monotonous tinkle into a carved stone basin +beneath.</p> + +<p>The old Church stood on a high plateau overlooking the +lake. It jutted out so far, on its great rock, that it seemed +to overhang the precipice; and as the neighbours walked +upon the terrace on Sundays, and enjoyed the shade of the +row of plane trees, they could look down over the low walls +of the Churchyard almost into the chimneys of the wooden +houses clustering below.</p> + +<p>There were wide stone seats on the terrace, grey and +worn by the weather, and by the generations of children +who had played round them; and here the mothers and +grandmothers, with their distaffs in their hands, loved to +collect on summer evenings.</p> + +<p>Often Terli had seen them from his home by the mountain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> +torrent, for he was so high up, he looked down upon the +whole village; and he had often longed to join them and +hear what they were saying; but as he was nothing but a +River-Troll, he was not able to venture within sight or sound +of the water of the holy Church Fountain.</p> + +<p>Anywhere else he was free to roam; teazing the children, +worrying the women as they washed their clothes at the +open stone basins, even putting his lean fingers into the +fountain spout to stop the water, while the people remained +staring open-mouthed, or ran off to fetch a neighbour to +find out what was the matter.</p> + +<p>This was all very pleasant to Terli, and at night he would +hurry back to his relations in their cave under the stones +of the torrent, and enjoy a good laugh at the day's +adventures.</p> + +<p>There was only one thing that worried him. Several +of the cleverest old women of the village, who had on +several occasions seen Terli dancing about the country, +agreed to hang a little pot of the Church water in the doors +of their houses; and once or twice the Troll, on attempting +to enter in order to teaze the inhabitants, had suddenly +caught sight of the water, and rushed away with a scream +of rage and disappointment.</p> + +<p>"Never River-Troll can stand the sight of the Church +Fountain!" said the old women, and rubbed their hands +gleefully.</p> + +<p>In the early summer there was to be a great wedding at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +the old Church, the Bridegroom the son of a rich farmer, +the Bride one of the young girls of the village; and Terli, +who had known them both from childhood, determined that +for once in his life he would enter the unknown region of +the Church Terrace.</p> + +<p>"Elena has often annoyed me in the past," laughed +Terli, "so it is only fair I should try and annoy her in the +future"—and he sat down cross-legged at the bottom of a +water trough to arrange his plans quietly in seclusion.</p> + +<p>An old horse came by, dragging a creaking waggon, and +the driver stopped to allow the animal to drink.</p> + +<p>The Troll raised himself leisurely, and as the horse put in +his head, Terli seized it in both hands, and hung on so firmly +that it was impossible for the poor creature to get away.</p> + +<p>"Let go!" said the horse, angrily—for he understood +the Troll language. "Let me go! What are you doing?"</p> + +<p>"I shan't let you go till you make me a promise. You +get the Wood-Troll to cork up the Church Fountain at +daybreak on Friday morning, and I'll let you drink as much +as you like now, and go without hindrance afterwards."</p> + +<p>"I shan't promise," said the horse, crossly. "I don't +see why I should."</p> + +<p>"Well, I shall hang on till you <i>do</i>," said the Troll with +a disagreeable laugh; and he gripped the old horse more +tightly than ever.</p> + +<p>"Oh, leave off! I'm being suffocated. I'll promise anything," +cried the horse.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 482px;"> +<img src="images/image020.png" width="482" height="400" alt=""'LET GO!' SAID THE HORSE, +ANGRILY. 'LET ME GO! WHAT ARE +YOU DOING?'"" title=""'LET GO!' SAID THE HORSE, +ANGRILY. 'LET ME GO! WHAT ARE +YOU DOING?'"" /> +<span class="caption">"'LET GO!' SAID THE HORSE, +ANGRILY. 'LET ME GO! WHAT ARE +YOU DOING?'"</span> +</div> + +<p>Terli withdrew his hands immediately, sinking down to +the bottom of the trough with a chuckle that made the +water bubble furiously; and the old horse, without waiting +to drink, trotted off with an activity that surprised his master.</p> + +<p>"Remember your promise!" called the Troll, putting his +head suddenly over the edge of the trough, and pointing a +thin finger. "On Friday at daybreak the Church Fountain +stopped, or you don't drink comfortably for a twelve-month!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h3> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> +<p>Early on Friday morning the bridal procession started +gaily, and all the village folks were so occupied they never +noticed that the Church Fountain had ceased to bubble.</p> + +<p>The bells rang out; while the Troll, hidden in the branches +of a tree close to the entrance door, glanced first at the procession +and then at a wedge of wood sticking out of the +stone mouth of the Fountain, and he laughed elfishly.</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha! The old horse has kept his promise. This <i>is</i> +seeing the world," he whispered triumphantly.</p> + +<p>The marriage ceremony was soon over, and as the newly-wedded +pair stepped out upon the terrace again, Terli +drew from his pocket a little jar of water, and <i>splash!</i> +fell some drops from it right in the eyes of the Bride and +Bridegroom.</p> + +<p>"It is beginning to rain! I saw the clouds gathering! +Run, run, for the nearest shelter!" cried everyone confusedly, +and off dashed the crowd, panting and breathless.</p> + +<p>Now it was an unfortunate thing, that after the wedding +everything in the new household seemed to go wrong.</p> + +<p>"The young people have had their heads turned," +whispered the old women, and the poor Bride looked pale +and disconsolate.</p> + +<p>"It is a wretched house to have married into," she said +to her mother. "Nothing but these poor boards for furniture, +no good fields or garden—all so dull and disagreeable;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +and then my husband—he seems always discontented. I +think I was happier at home;" and she tapped her foot +impatiently.</p> + +<p>Her mother argued and remonstrated, and at last began +to weep bitterly.</p> + +<p>"You must be bewitched, Elena, to complain like this! +You have everything a reasonable girl can wish for."</p> + +<p>"Everything? Why I have <i>nothing</i>!" cried Elena +angrily, and ran from the room; leaving Terli, who was +hiding in a water-bucket, to stamp his feet with delight.</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! it is going on excellently," he shouted in his +little cracked voice. "Once let them have the water from +the Trolls' well in their eyes, they'll never be contented +again!" and he upset the bucket in which he was standing +over the feet of the Bride's mother, who had to run home +hastily to change her wet shoes.</p> + +<p>"This is the work of the River-Trolls, I believe," she +said to herself, as she held up her soaked skirts carefully. +"I'll find out all about it on St. John's Eve, if I can't do +so before"—and she nodded angrily towards the mountain +torrent.</p> + +<p>Days passed, and the sad temper of the newly-married +couple did not improve.</p> + +<p>They scarcely attempted to speak to each other, and +groaned so much over the hardships of their life, that all +their friends became tired of trying to comfort them.</p> + +<p>"They're bewitched," said the Bride's mother, "bewitched,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +and nothing else. But wait till St. John's Eve, and you'll +see I shall cure them."</p> + +<p>She spoke mysteriously, but as she was a sensible woman +everyone believed her.</p> + +<p>On St. John's Eve—as I daresay you know—all animals +have the power of talking together like human beings, and +punctually as the clock struck twelve the Bride's mother put +on her thick shoes, and taking the stable lantern from its +nail, she went off to the stable, refusing to allow either her +husband or son to accompany her.</p> + +<p>As she entered the door of the outhouse, she heard the +oxen already whispering to each other, and the old horse, +with his head over the division, addressing friendly remarks +to a family of goats close by.</p> + +<p>"Do you know anything of Terli or the Wood-Trolls?" +enquired the old woman, looking at the oxen severely.</p> + +<p>"No, no, no!" and they shook their heads slowly.</p> + +<p>The Bride's mother then repeated her question to the goat +family, who denied any knowledge of the Trolls with a series +of terrified bleats.</p> + +<p>"There is only <i>you</i>, then," said the Bride's mother to the +old horse. "You have served us faithfully, and we have +been kind masters to you. Tell me: do you know anything +of Terli or the Wood-Trolls?"</p> + +<p>"I do," said the old horse with dignity. "I can tell you +more than anyone else dreams of;" and he stepped from +his stall with an air of the greatest importance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p> + +<p>The old woman sat down upon an upturned stable-bucket, +and prepared to listen.</p> + +<p>"Just before the wedding," commenced the horse, "I +was passing through the village with old master, when we +stopped to drink. No sooner had I got my nose into the +Fountain than, <i>heuw!</i> Terli had hold of me, and not an +inch would he loosen his grip till I promised to let him see +the wedding by getting the Wood-Trolls to stop up the +Church Fountain. What was I to do? I was forced to +agree, and from that promise comes all the misery of +the Bride and Bridegroom."</p> + +<p>The old horse then went on to explain what Terli had +done on the wedding day, while the Bride's mother jumped +up from the water-bucket with a cry of delight.</p> + +<p>"All will be well now. You have done us the greatest +possible service, and shall live in leisure for the rest of your +life," she said; and ran out of the stables towards the house, +before the astonished animals could recover themselves.</p> + +<p>"I've found it all out," she cried to her husband. "Now +all we have to do is to catch Terli."</p> + +<p>"Not so easy, wife," said the Bride's father, but the old +woman smiled in a mysterious manner.</p> + +<p>"Leave it to me, husband, <i>I</i> shall manage it. Our children +will be happy again to-morrow, you will see."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> +<p>The next day at sunrise, the Bride's mother crept off +secretly to the Church Fountain and brought back a +large pailful of the water. This she emptied into a wash-tub +and covered with some green pine branches, and on +the top of all she placed a wooden bowl half filled with +butter-milk.</p> + +<p>"Terli likes it so much—he will do anything for butter-milk," +she said to herself, as she propped open the kitchen +door, and went off with a light heart to see her daughter.</p> + +<p>She carried with her a jug of the Church water, and when +she arrived at the farm house, she gave it to her daughter +and son-in-law, and begged them to bathe their eyes with it +immediately.</p> + +<p>With much grumbling they obeyed her; but what a change +occurred directly they had done so!</p> + +<p>The day, which had seemed cloudy and threatening rain, +now appeared bright and hopeful. The Bride ran over her +new house with exclamations of delight at all the comfortable +arrangements, and the Bridegroom declared he was a lucky +man to have married a good wife, and have a farm that +anyone might reasonably be proud of!</p> + +<p>"How could we ever have troubled over anything?" said +the young Bride, "I can't understand it! We are young, +and we are happy."</p> + +<p>The old woman smiled wisely. "It was only the Troll's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +well-water," she said, and went home as fast as her feet +would carry her.</p> + +<p>As she neared her own door, she heard sounds of splashing +and screaming in a shrill piping voice; and on entering, saw +Terli struggling violently in the tub of Church water, the +little bowl of butter-milk lying spilt upon the floor.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Take me out! Take me out! It gives me the toothache!" +wailed the Troll, but the Bride's mother was a wise woman, +and determined that now she had caught their tormentor she +would keep him safely.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 382px;"> +<img src="images/image026.png" width="382" height="400" alt=""TAKE ME OUT! TAKE ME OUT! IT GIVES ME THE +TOOTH-ACHE!"" title=""TAKE ME OUT! TAKE ME OUT! IT GIVES ME THE +TOOTH-ACHE!"" /> +<span class="caption">"TAKE ME OUT! TAKE ME OUT! IT GIVES ME THE +TOOTH-ACHE!"</span> +</div> + +<p>"I've got the toothache in every joint!" shouted Terli. +"Let me out, and I'll <i>never</i> tease you any more."</p> + +<p>"It serves you very well right," said the old woman, and +she poured the contents of the tub—including Terli—into a +large bucket, and carried it off in triumph to the Church +Fountain.</p> + +<p>Here she emptied the bucket into the carved stone basin, +and left Terli kicking and screaming, while she went home +to the farmhouse to breakfast.</p> + +<p>"That's a good morning's work, wife; if you never do +another:" said the Bride's father, who had come into the +kitchen just as Terli upset the bowl of butter-milk, and fell +through the pine branches headlong into the tub beneath. +"We shall live in peace and quietness now, for Terli was +the most mischievous of the whole of the Troll-folk."</p> + +<p>The words of the Bride's father proved to be quite true, +for after the capture of the Water-Troll the village enjoyed +many years of quietness and contentment.</p> + +<p>As to Terli, he lived in great unhappiness in the Church +Fountain; enduring a terrible series of tooth-aches, but +unable to escape from the magic power of the water.</p> + +<p>At the end of that time, however, a falling tree split the +sides of the carved stone basin into fragments, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +Troll, escaping with the water which flowed out, darted from +the Churchyard and safely reached his old home in the bed +of the mountain torrent.</p> + +<p>"The Church Fountain is broken, and Terli has escaped," +said the good folks the next morning—and the old people +shook their heads gravely, in alarm—but I suppose Terli had +had a good lesson, for he never troubled the village any more.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 140px;"> +<img src="images/image028.png" width="140" height="200" alt="Troll" title="Troll" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="The_Imp_in_the_Chintz_Curtain" id="The_Imp_in_the_Chintz_Curtain"></a>The Imp in the Chintz Curtain.</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>He was a wicked-looking Imp, and he lived in a bed +curtain.</p> + +<p>No one knew he was in the house, not even the +master and mistress. The little girl who slept in the chintz-curtained +bed was the only person who knew of his existence, +and she never mentioned him, even to her old nurse.</p> + +<p>She had made his acquaintance one Christmas Eve, as +she lay awake, trying to keep her tired eyes open long +enough to see Santa Klaus come down the chimney. The +Imp sprang into view with a <i>cr-r-r-ick, cr-r-r-ack</i> of falling +wood in the great fireplace, and there he stood bowing to +Marianne from the left-hand corner of the chintz curtain.</p> + +<p>A green leaf formed his hat, some straggling branches his +feet; his thin body was a single rose-stem, and his red face +a crumpled rose-bud.</p> + +<p>A flaw in the printing of the chintz curtain had given him +life—a life distinct from that of the other rose leaves.</p> + +<p>"You're lying awake very late to-night—what's that for?" +he enquired, shaking the leaf he wore upon his head, and +looking at Marianne searchingly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, don't you see I'm waiting for Santa Klaus?" +replied Marianne. "I've always missed him before, but +this time <i>nothing</i> shall make me go to sleep!" She sat up +in bed and opened her eyes as widely as possible.</p> + +<p>"He has generally been here before this," said the Imp. +"I can remember your great-aunt sleeping in this very bed +and being in just the same fuss. I got down and danced +about all night, and she thought I was earwigs."</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> should never think you were an earwig—you're too +pink and green—but don't talk, I can hear something +buzzing."</p> + +<p>"Santa Klaus doesn't buzz," said the Chintz Imp. "He +comes down <i>flop!</i> Once in your aunt's time, I knew him +nearly stick in the chimney. He had too many things in his +sack. You should have heard how he struggled, it was like +thunder! Everyone said how high the wind was."</p> + +<p>"I hope he won't do it to-night," said Marianne, "I could +never pull him down by myself!"</p> + +<p>As she spoke the room seemed to be violently shaken, and +there was a sound of falling plaster, followed by some loud +kicks.</p> + +<p>"Whew—w!" cried the Chintz Imp, "he's done it again!"</p> + +<p>Marianne started up in great excitement. She sprang +from her bed, and ran towards the old-fashioned fireplace.</p> + +<p>Nothing was at first to be seen; but as the fire had died +down to a few hot embers, Marianne could, by craning her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +head forwards, look right up into the misty darkness of the +great chimney.</p> + +<p>There, to her astonishment, she saw a pair of large brown-covered +feet hanging down helplessly; while a deep voice +from above cried—</p> + +<p>"Get me out of this, or I shall break down the chimney!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, what <i>am</i> I to do?" exclaimed Marianne anxiously, +"I'm not tall enough to reach you! Shall I fetch my Aunt +Olga, or would you prefer my old nurse?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not," said the voice, with decision. "I have +never been seen by a grown-up person, and I don't intend to +begin now. Either you must get me down by yourself, or I +shall manage to work out at the top again—and then I'm +sorry to say you'll have to go without your presents."</p> + +<p>Marianne sat down on the hearthrug in a state of anxious +consideration. There waved the great brown feet, and two +or three steps would land them safely on the hearthrug, but +how could it possibly be managed?</p> + +<p>The Chintz Imp curled up his green legs and sat down +beside her, his bright red eyes blinking thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"We must hang on to him," he said at last; "or what do +you say to my trying to collect a dozen or so children, to +pull?"</p> + +<p>"Why they'd all be in bed hours ago," said Marianne. +"Besides, their parents would never let them come, +and Uncle Max would want to know whatever we were +doing."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes. I see <i>that</i> idea is no good. Have you such a thing +as a pocket-knife?" enquired the Chintz Imp.</p> + +<p>"A beauty," said Marianne; "four blades, a button-hook, +and a corkscrew."</p> + +<p>"Ah, the corkscrew might be of some use if we could +draw him out with it; but he might object. However, I'll +try what I can do with the knife."</p> + +<p>"You won't cut him! You'll have to be very careful!"</p> + +<p>"Of course," said the Chintz Imp. "Do you think I am +as old as your great-aunt, without knowing much more than +<i>you</i> do! Bring me the knife. I'm going to swarm up the +chimney and scratch away the mortar. Leave it entirely to +me, and Santa Klaus will be down here in an hour or two!"</p> + +<p>Marianne ran off to her little play box, and returned +with the knife. It was almost as large as the Chintz Imp, +but he possessed so much wiry strength in his thin arms +and backbone that he was able to clamber up the chimney +without difficulty.</p> + +<p>"Are you all right?" cried Marianne, standing with her +bare feet on the edge of the stone fender, and holding up the +night-light as high as she could without singeing Santa +Klaus.</p> + +<p>"Getting up," replied the Chintz Imp, "but he's in very +tight!"</p> + +<p>"Is it his sack that's stuck?" enquired Marianne, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes! It's only my sack!" cried the deep voice;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +"you get that loose, and I shall drop into the room like a +fairy."</p> + +<p>Marianne strained her eyes up the chimney, but could see +nothing.</p> + +<p>"Take care! Here's a lot of plaster falling!"</p> + +<p>The warning was just in time, for, as Marianne's head +disappeared, a handful of cement fell rattling into the fireplace, +just escaping her bare feet as she jumped on to the +hearthrug.</p> + +<p>"The knife does beautifully," cried the voice of the Chintz +Imp. "I think when I've loosened this paint box, he'll fall +down immediately."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do be careful!" said Marianne. "A paint box is +what I've been longing for! Don't chip it if you can possibly +help it!"</p> + +<p>"Of course I shan't," replied the Chintz Imp. "If he +wouldn't kick so much, I should get him out in half the time."</p> + +<p>"I'm not kicking," cried Santa Klaus's voice indignantly. +"I've been as still as a rock, even with that horrid penknife +close to my ear the whole time."</p> + +<p>"Have a little patience," said the Chintz Imp soothingly. +"I promise not to hurt you."</p> + +<p>Marianne began to feel very cold. The excitement, so far, +had buoyed her up; but now the monotonous <i>chip, chipping</i> +of the Chintz Imp continued so long that she jumped into +her chintz-curtained bed, determined to stay there until +something new and interesting called her up again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I can't do any good, so I may as well be comfortable," +she thought, and pulled the eider-down quilt up to her chin +luxuriously.</p> + +<p>"I <i>hope</i> he'll get out! It <i>would</i> be a disappointment to +have that paint-box taken away again. Perhaps it would be +given to someone who wouldn't care for it. I wonder if it's +tin, with moist colours? I must ask Uncle Max to have +that chimney made wider——" At this point Marianne's +eyes closed and she fell asleep.</p> + +<p>She was awakened by a loud <i>thump!</i> that seemed to shake +the very bed in which she was lying; and as she sprang up +in a state of great excitement, she saw Santa Klaus picking +himself up from the hearthrug on which he had apparently +fallen with great violence.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear!" cried Marianne, "I hope you are not hurt? +How careless of the Chintz Imp to throw you down like that!"</p> + +<p>"It was no one's fault but my own," said Santa Klaus as +he dusted the remains of soot and plaster off his brown cloak. +"I should have remembered my experience with your great-aunt, +but I knew how much you wanted that paint-box," +and he slipped into Marianne's stocking a japanned box +with a whole sheaf of paint brushes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you, Santa Klaus! You can't think how I've +wished for it; my own is such a horrid little thing. And +those beautiful pictures for my scrap-book, and the things +for the doll's house—and I <i>really</i> believe that's the book of +fairy tales I've been longing for for months!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> + +<p>Marianne's face shone with delighted expectation as she +opened the top of her stocking and peeped in.</p> + +<p>"Not till the morning," cried Santa Klaus; "you know +my rule," and patting Marianne on the head, he disappeared, +with his sack much lightened, up the chimney.</p> + +<p>"Oh, do come here!" cried Marianne to the Chintz Imp. +"I must talk to somebody."</p> + +<p>"I think you certainly <i>ought</i> to talk to me," said the +Chintz Imp, coming carefully down the brickwork, hand +over hand, and laying the knife down in the fender. +"Without me you wouldn't have had a single present."</p> + +<p>"Of course, I'm very grateful," said Marianne. "I wish +he had brought you something, though I'm sure I don't know +what would be useful to you."</p> + +<p>"Well, I should like a good many things," replied the +Chintz Imp, perching himself on a brass knob at the end of +the bedstead, "and one or two I think you can get me easily. +I'm tired of this room and the little society I see, and I long +for the great world. Can't you get me put on a settee in +the Servants' Hall, or somewhere lively?"</p> + +<p>"I'll ask Aunt Olga," said Marianne. "She promised me +a Christmas present, and I was to choose. Suppose I choose +new bed curtains?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said the Chintz Imp, "but be sure you +bargain to hang me in some cheerful place. Sixty years in +one room is too much of a good thing—I want a change!" +and he stretched himself wearily.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I really will do my best for you," said Marianne. "I'm +afraid you're too faded for the drawing-room, but I won't +have new curtains until I can see you put somewhere nice. +I suppose you wouldn't like the passages?"</p> + +<p>"Decidedly not," replied the Chintz Imp. "Dull places. +No fun, and nothing going on. The Servants' Hall, or stay +where I am!" He folded his green arms with determination.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I can manage it," said Marianne, and fell asleep +again while she was arranging the words in which she should +make the suggestion to Aunt Olga.</p> + +<p>The next day Marianne awoke betimes, and immediately +inspected the contents of her stocking.</p> + +<p>There, stuffed clumsily inside it, was everything she had +been wishing for during the year, and more too!</p> + +<p>"Do come and look at my things!" cried Marianne to the +Chintz Imp, but he remained rigidly against his shiny +spotted background and refused to move, though Marianne +thought she saw a twinkle in his eye, which showed he was +not quite so impassive as he appeared to be.</p> + +<p>"I'll try and get him put into the Servants' Hall as soon +as possible," she thought. "It makes me quite nervous to +think he may pounce upon me any minute. Besides, one +must keep one's promises! How extraordinary it is he can +make himself so perfectly flat."</p> + +<p>As soon as she was dressed she ran down to the dining +room.</p> + +<p>"Dear Aunt Olga, I've got such quantities of things to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +show you!" she cried, "and as you said I might choose, +may I please have new chintz to my bed, and no pattern on +it, so that it can't come out and be Imps—I mean, have +funny shapes on it. And may my old curtains be put in the +Servants' Hall? He says it will be more cheerful for him, +and though, of course, he's been very kind to me, I think I +would rather he went somewhere else. Besides, it <i>is</i> dull +for him up there, all by himself—I mean, it would be dull for +<i>any</i> kind of chintz."</p> + +<p>"I do think Santa Klaus has got into your head, +Marianne!" said Aunt Olga, laughing; but she promised to +buy the new curtains.</p> + +<p>In course of time they arrived—the palest blue, with little +harmless frillings to them; and the old chintz was carried +off to the Servants' Hall to make a box cover.</p> + +<p>There it still hangs, and if you stoop down and examine +it closely, you will see the Chintz Imp looking more lively +than ever, with his green hat on one side, and a twinkling +red eye on the watch for any sort of amusement.</p> + +<p>Marianne often goes to see him, but, rather to her disappointment, +he looks the other way, and appears not to +recognize her.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it's just as well," she says to herself, "for he +seems very happy, and if the servants knew he was here I +believe they would turn him out immediately."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="HEARTSEASE" id="HEARTSEASE"></a>HEARTSEASE.</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>The three-cornered scrap of garden by the elm tree, +with a border of stones, and a neat trodden path +down the middle, belonged to little Bethea.</p> + +<p>It grew things in a most wonderful way. Stocks and +marigolds, primroses and lupines, Canterbury bells and +lavender; all came out at their different seasons, and all +flourished—for Bethea watered and tended them so faithfully +that they loved her.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 297px;"> +<img src="images/image039.png" width="297" height="400" alt=""BETHEA WATERED AND TENDED THEM SO FAITHFULLY THAT THEY LOVED HER."" title=""BETHEA WATERED AND TENDED THEM SO FAITHFULLY THAT THEY LOVED HER."" /> +<span class="caption">"BETHEA WATERED AND TENDED THEM SO FAITHFULLY THAT THEY LOVED HER."</span> +</div> + +<p>On a soft spring day Bethea stood by her garden with +scissors and basket, snipping away at the brightest and best +of her children; carefully, so that she might not hurt them, +and with judgment, so that they might bloom again when +they wished to.</p> + +<p>"Do you know where you're going?" she said—"To the +Hospital. Grandmamma's going to take me, and you're being +gathered to cheer up the sick people there—aren't you +pleased?" And the flowers nodded.</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose I shall be picked. I don't think I'm +good enough!" whispered a very small purple pansy, who had +only recently been planted, to a beetle who happened to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +crawling by. "I should like to go with the others, though +I don't suppose it would cheer anyone to see me, I'm not +light enough!"</p> + +<p>"Don't be too sure," said the beetle solidly. "You've a +nice velvety softness about you, and then you have the best +name of them all. What sick person wouldn't like to have +Heartsease?"</p> + +<p>"I think I've got enough now," said Bethea, as she laid +the last primula in her basket.</p> + +<p>"Oh, do take me!" cried the pansy, touching her little +brown shoe with one of its leaves to attract her attention, +"I do want to help!" and Bethea stooped down, she scarcely +knew why, gathered it, and put it with the rest of her flowers.</p> + +<p>The drive to the Hospital was along a dusty country road, +and the flowers under their paper covering, gasped for +breath.</p> + +<p>As soon as they arrived, Bethea, following her grandmother, +carried them up to the room where children were +lying in the little white beds, and gave them to the woman +who was in charge of it.</p> + +<p>"Please would you mind putting them in water for the +children," she said in her soft voice, and the woman smiled +and nodded.</p> + +<p>Bethea took a few of the flowers out, and went round to +the different beds offering one or two, shyly, until she came +to a thin pale boy—a new patient, whom she had never +seen before.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He's only been here a fortnight," said the woman in a +whisper, "and we can't get him to take any interest in +anything—I don't know what we're going to do with him!"</p> + +<p>"Is he very ill?" asked Bethea, wistfully.</p> + +<p>"No, not so bad as some. A crooked leg, that will get +well in time if only we can wake him up a little."</p> + +<p>"I'm so sorry I have nothing but this flower left," said +Bethea, as she stooped over the boy's curly head, and gave +him the small purple pansy.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I wish I was more beautiful!" sighed the little dark +flower. "<i>Now</i> would be an opportunity to do some good in +the world!"</p> + +<p>The boy turned wearily, but his face lighted up as he saw +the pansy. His eyes brightened and he seized it eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Heartsease! Oh, it's like home. We've lots of that +growing in our garden. I always had some on Sundays!" +he cried. "Do let me keep it. It seems just a bit of home—a +bit of home—a bit of home."</p> + +<p>He murmured it over and over again, as if there was rest +and happiness in the very sound of it.</p> + +<p>"I'll keep fresh as long as ever I can," said the pansy, +"It's the least I can do for him, poor fellow!"</p> + +<p>"At all events the flowers are all out of my own garden," +said Bethea, sitting down by the white bed, and then she +talked away so gently that the boy's weary face smoothed +out, and he went to sleep.</p> + +<p>In a few days' time Bethea begged her grandmother to let<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +her go again to the hospital, and she persuaded the gardener +to give her a beautiful bunch of pansies to take to the +sick boy.</p> + +<p>As she entered the room, she saw that the little purple +pansy was standing in a tumbler of water, on a chair by the +boy's bed.</p> + +<p>Its head hung over on one side, but it looked quite fresh +and healthy.</p> + +<p>"Hasn't it lasted well?" said the boy, happily. He looked +much better and spoke in a loud, cheerful voice. "It's been +talking to me about all sorts of things! the country, and +gardens, and springtime, and being out and about in the +fresh air and sunshine!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I certainly have tried to make myself as pleasant +as possible," said the pansy, but it spoke so low that nobody +heard it except the boy whose ears were sharpened by illness.</p> + +<p>"I've brought you some more," said Bethea, holding out +her bouquet, "shall I put them in the tumbler with the +little one?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" cried the boy anxiously, "I think if you don't +mind I'd rather you gave those to some of the other children. +I can't like any fine new flowers as well as that little fellow. +I feel as if he had made me well again!"</p> + +<p>The pansy expanded with pride, and a tear of gratitude +rolled out of its eye, and fell with a splash on the cane +chair-seat.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to have it dried in my old pocket book, when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +it's really withered," continued the boy, "and then I shall be +able to look at it always."</p> + +<p>When little Bethea next visited the hospital, the boy with +the crooked leg was just leaving; but his leg was not crooked +any longer; his face was bright and healthy, and safely +buttoned up in his coat he carried a shabby old pocket +book, in which lay a withered flower, with one word written +underneath in large pencilled letters—"<i>Heartsease</i>."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="A_Story_of_Siena" id="A_Story_of_Siena"></a>A Story of Siena.</h2> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER_I.</h3> + + +<p>The house stands on a hill on the outskirts of Siena, +not far from the high red walls that still enclose +the town, as entirely as they did in the times long +passed by, when Siena was the powerful rival of Florence.</p> + +<p>Old frescoes, and the stone coats-of-arms of the dead and +gone rulers of the place, decorate the great gates; which +seem only waiting for a troop of knights and soldiers to pass +through, and with a blast of their bugles awake the ancient +inhabitants of the crooked streets, and fill them once more +with the picturesque crowds of the middle ages.</p> + +<p>We can imagine that the old owners are but lying asleep +in their many storied gothic palaces, their vaulted courtyards, +and shady loggias; ready to rub their eyes and come out as +they hear the well-known sounds ringing across the wide +piazza.</p> + +<p>But the knights never come, and the old people go on +sleeping; and the new people walk about the streets, and +haggle at the market, and drive their country carts with the +great patient white oxen, and crowd on Sunday up the broad<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +Cathedral steps to kneel in the dim light before the lighted +altar, as generations have done before them.</p> + +<p>All round the town stretches the open country. Low +sandy hills dotted with olive and cyprus trees, melting into +a blue sweep of mountains; and about a mile from one of +the gates stands the rambling white house with closed +shutters in which Maddalena, the housekeeper, lived alone +with her two grandchildren.</p> + +<p>She was a kind old woman and fond of the twins, who had +been left orphans when they were mere babies, but she often +thought that surely no grandmother had ever been plagued +before, as she was plagued by Tuttu and Tutti.</p> + +<p>"When they were infants it was easy enough," she would +declare to a sympathizing neighbour. "Give them a fig or +something to play with, and they were perfectly happy; but +at times now I am tempted to wish they had no legs, what +with accidents and mischief.—Not that they're not fine +children, and may be a comfort to my old age, but it's a +harassing thing, waiting."</p> + +<p>It was certainly a fact that Tuttu and Tutti were constantly +in mischief; and yet their curly black heads, red cheeks, and +great brown eyes, were so attractive, that people—even those +whose property had been seriously injured by them—treated +them leniently, and let them off with a scolding.</p> + +<p>The twins were always repentant after one of their misfortunes, +and made serious promises of amendment; but at the +next temptation they forgot all their good resolutions, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +never remembered them until they were in disgrace again.</p> + +<p>Grandmother Maddalena devised numerous punishments +for the children, such as tacking a cow's head cut out of red +stuff, on their backs, when they had teazed Aunt Eucilda's +cow—or tieing them up by one leg, with a long cord to +the table, for stone-throwing; but Tuttu and Tutti were +incorrigible.</p> + +<p>They wept loudly, embraced their grandmother, made all +kinds of promises—and the next day went off to do just +the same things all over again.</p> + +<p>There was only one person who had any influence over +them, Father Giacomo, the priest of the little Church of +Sancta Maria del Fiore, close by. He had known them from +the time they were helpless babies in swaddling clothes, +till they grew to be mischievous creatures in homespun +trousers; and in every stage of character and clothing he had +borne with them, taught them, played with them, and loved +them, until the <i>Padre</i> had become their idea of all that was +wise and good, and they would do more for the sake of +pleasing him than for anyone in the world, not even excepting +their grandmother.</p> + +<p>Every Sunday afternoon Father Giacomo called to take +them for a walk, the one only sure way of keeping them out +of mischief; and sometimes to their great delight they would +go along the olive-bordered road to Siena, returning in the +evening to the <i>Padre's</i> house, in time to have a good game +with the two cats Neri and Bianca, who had lived there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +since their infancy, as important members of the household.</p> + +<p>On their eighth birthday, Tuttu and Tutti assured their +grandmother that they really intended to reform. They +promised faithfully to give up tree climbing, fishing in the +pond, and many other favourite sports, and commenced to +dig in the piece of kitchen garden under their grandmother's +direction. In fact so zealous did Tuttu become +that he borrowed a knife from one of the farm labourers who +was vine pruning, and cut the whole of the branches off a +vine near the house, ending with a terrible gash in his own +thumb, which necessitated his being carried in an ox-cart to +the hospital in Siena, supported in his grandmother's arms; +while Tutti walked behind weeping bitterly, under the +impression that the doctor would certainly kill Tuttu this +time for his carelessness.</p> + +<p>Tuttu was not killed, however. The cut was sewn up, +while the ox-cart with its good-natured driver waited outside, +and the depressed party returned home, grandmother +Maddalena clasping her little earthen pot full of hot wood +ashes, which even in the excitement of the accident she had +not forgotten to take with her, for it was a cold day in early +springtime.[A]</p> + +<p>[A] A <i>scaldino</i>, carried about by all the Siennese women, and used in +the house instead of a fire.</p> + +<p>Tutti was allowed to ride home in the cart, and sat +holding Tuttu's hand, his eyes round with solemnity, the +traces of tears still on his cheeks.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> +<p>That night he went to sleep with his arm thrown round +Tuttu's neck, his curly head resting against his shoulder—and +though Tuttu was cramped and uncomfortable, and his +thumb pained him, he remained heroically still until he +also dropped asleep, and the two little brothers dreamed +peacefully of pleasant things until the morning.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3> + + +<p>"Well, thank Heaven! those children are safe for the +present," said Maddalena, as she sat on a stone bench in +the sun, with the dark clipped cyprus hedge behind her.</p> + +<p>To the right rose the stuccoed <i>Palazzo</i>, with its great +stone coat-of-arms hanging over the entrance, and inside, +a peep of the shady courtyard, with green tubs of orange +trees, and the twinkle of a fountain that shot up high into +the sunshine, and fell with a splash into a marble basin.</p> + +<p>Maddalena, in her broad Tuscan hat with its old-fashioned +black velvet—for she would never give in to the modern +innovations of flowers and ostrich feathers—held her distaff +in her hand, and as she twisted the spindle and drew out +the thread evenly, she thought with satisfaction of the +improved behaviour of the twins.</p> + +<p>Ever since the accident they had been different creatures, +and she wondered how long it would be before they could +be apprenticed to some useful trade, and begin to bring in +a little money.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> + +<p>"When I can get hold of the Padre alone I'll ask him +about it; but he really does spoil these boys till I don't +know which tyrannizes over him most—the two cats or the +two children!"</p> + +<p>Maddalena's reflections were suddenly interrupted at this +point by the appearance of her grandchildren from the back +of the yew hedge by which she was sitting—Tuttu on all +fours, neighing like a horse, with Tutti on his back, blowing +a clay whistle.</p> + +<p>"We're only doing 'cavalry,' grandmother," gasped +Tuttu, with a scarlet face, attempting to prance in a +military manner.</p> + +<p>"Cavalry!" cried Maddalena, starting up. "Those +children will be the death of me. Cavalry indeed! Look +at your trousers, you disgrace. All the knees yellow sand, +and the elbows in holes!" and she seized her distaff and +waved it at them threateningly.</p> + +<p>To avoid his grandmother's arm, Tuttu hastily scrambled +under the stone seat, but his unfortunate rider thrown off +his balance, fell head first against the earthen <i>scaldino</i>, which +was broken, and its ashes scattered on the path in all +directions.</p> + +<p>When Tuttu, lying flat with only his head visible, saw this +terrible misfortune; he crawled out from his hiding-place, +and taking Tutti's hand helped him to get up, and stood +courageously in front of his grandmother.</p> + +<p>"It was all my fault, grandmother. Don't scold him! I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +made him do it, and I'm so sorry," he said, with a quiver in +his voice, but Maddalena was too angry to listen to him. +She had thrown her distaff on the ground, and was picking +up the pieces of the yellow <i>scaldino</i> to see if it could possibly +be fitted together again.</p> + +<p>"Go in both of you to bed," she called out without looking +up, "and don't let me see either of you again to-day! Just +when I had a moment's peace too, thinking you were at the +Padre's. It really is too much."</p> + +<p>Tutti burst into loud sobs of terror and remorse, but Tuttu +took him by the hand and, without speaking, led him away +to the house.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you cry, too, Tuttu?" asked Tutti, stopping +his tears to look in astonishment at his brother.</p> + +<p>"I'm too old," said Tuttu. "Grandmother's quite right, +we do behave badly to her." And that was the beginning +of a new era for Tuttu.</p> + +<p>The next day as soon as he was awake, he began to think +seriously over any possible way by which he could earn +enough money to buy a new <i>scaldino</i>. He dressed hurriedly +and ran off to talk it over with Father Giacomo, and the +result of the conference was a long but kind lecture of good +advice, and permission to weed in the Padre's garden for +the sum of one halfpenny for a large basketful.</p> + +<p>Tuttu danced about with delight. "Why, I shall earn the +money in no time at that rate," he cried, "and I'll buy the +best <i>scaldino</i> in Siena!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + +<p>He felt that he must commence work immediately, and in +the evening he staggered into Father Giacomo's, with a +scarlet face, carrying a great hamper of green stuff.</p> + +<p>When he had a little recovered himself, he unfolded to his +old friend another plan he had thought of during the day, +which he was quite sure would please his grandmother.</p> + +<p>"I've got a broken <i>fiasco</i> that the gardener's given me," he +said, "and I and Tutti mean to put a bean each into it every +day we are really good. Then, at the end of the month—a +whole month, mind!—we might take it up to grandmother."</p> + +<p>Father Giacomo highly approved of this idea, and encouraged +the children by every means in his power; so that, +for more than three weeks, the beans went in regularly +and the halfpence in Tuttu's store, which he kept like a +magpie hidden away in a crack of the woodwork, increased +rapidly.</p> + +<p>Old Maddalena had long ago forgiven the children, for +though she was often angry with them, she loved them really. +She guessed that Tuttu was determined to replace the +<i>scaldino</i>, as on several occasions he had not been able to +resist a veiled hint on the subject; but she pretended perfect +ignorance, and the two little boys might whisper and laugh +to their heart's content—it was quite certain she never heard +anything!</p> + +<p>One soft evening in May, Tuttu came into the Palazzo +garden in a state of great excitement. His last basket of +weeds had been handed in to Father Giacomo, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +entire sum for the <i>scaldino</i> lay in small copper pieces in a +crumpled scarlet pocket handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"It's all here," whispered Tuttu, one great smile stretching +across his good-tempered little face. "Every penny of it!—Shall +it be brown or yellow? It must have a pattern. We'll +go into Siena to-morrow and buy it."</p> + +<p>"To Siena!" said Tutti in an awe-struck whisper, "We've +never been there by ourselves."</p> + +<p>"Never mind, we're older now," replied Tuttu. "Don't +you say anything about it, it's to be a surprise from beginning +to end."</p> + +<p>Tutti agreed, as he always did with his brother. Of course +Tuttu knew best, and it would sure to be all right.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3> + + +<p>They started early in the morning, having put on their +holiday clothes and brushed themselves; and as Bianca, +who had come over from the Padre's house, insisted on +following them, they tied a string to her red collar and +determined to let her share the pleasure of their visit to the +"great town."</p> + +<p>Their grandmother was still sleeping, but they left word +with the gardener's boy that they had gone into Siena +"on business."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p> + +<p>This sounded well, Tuttu thought, and would disarm +suspicion.</p> + +<p>The walk along the dusty high road was long and tiring, +and they were glad when they arrived safely in the Piazza, +where the market people had already begun to collect, for it +was market day.</p> + +<p>Tuttu carried his precious earnings tied up with intricate +knots in the handkerchief, and stowed away in the largest of +his pockets. He walked with conscious pride, knowing that +he was a person of "property," and entering the pottery +shop at the corner of the Piazza, began to cunningly tap the +<i>scaldinos</i>, and peer into them; while Tutti stood by, lost +in admiration at his brother's acuteness.</p> + +<p>Finally, a brown pot, with yellow stripes and spots, was +chosen and paid for, wrapped in the red handkerchief, and +carried off in triumph towards the Porta Camolla.</p> + +<p>"Whatever will grandmother say!" cried Tuttu, almost +shouting for joy, "I wish I could run all the way. There'll +be a big bean in the <i>fiasco</i> for each of us to-night, won't +there, Tutti?"</p> + +<p>"You've got a little money left, haven't you, Tuttu?" +enquired Tutti, who was always practical; "Couldn't we buy +some cakes. I really feel very hungry."</p> + +<p>"Certainly not," said Tuttu, firmly, "I shall put it inside +the <i>scaldino</i> for grandmother. That'll be the second surprise. +Don't you see, Tutti?"</p> + +<p>"But it's only two half-pennies," argued Tutti.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, she'll be glad enough of that!" said Tuttu, and +tramped on steadily up the street. "Come along, Tutti, +we'll go into the Cathedral."</p> + +<p>Tutti remonstrated no more, he knew it was useless; and +the two little boys, ascending a steep flight of steps, entered +the Cathedral at a side door, and knelt down in the dim light +in one of the chapels.</p> + +<p>Tuttu repeated a prayer he had been taught, and +then continued rapidly, "Thank you, too, very much, +for making me and Tutti good; and please let us go on +putting beans into the <i>fiasco</i> till it can't hold any more—and +then we'll find something else...." He paused to +meditate. "Make grandmother pleased with us, and bless +the cats."</p> + +<p>Here Tuttu could think of nothing else, and nudged Tutti.</p> + +<p>"You go on, Tutti."</p> + +<p>"I think Tuttu's said everything," commenced Tutti in +a whisper. "But please keep us out of the pond, and make +us grow so that we can be artillery; and take us home safe, +for the road's rather long, and we've never been there alone, +and there's oxen about."</p> + +<p>"You shouldn't say that, Tutti," said Tuttu, reprovingly. +"Oxen won't hurt you, and you shouldn't be a coward."</p> + +<p>"Well, shall I pray not to be a coward?" enquired Tutti.</p> + +<p>"If you think it's necessary," said Tuttu. "But you can +save that for another time—we ought to be going now"—so +Tutti got up, and the children pushed their way through<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +the heavy curtain by the door, and found themselves once +more in the bright sunshine.</p> + +<p>Certainly Bianca had been no trouble to them. In the +Cathedral she behaved in the most serious manner, sitting by +their side, and never moving until they pulled the string to +which she was fastened; when she got up solemnly, and +followed them on to the Piazza.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad I prayed for you, Bianca, good cat!" said Tuttu. +"You would never have allowed anyone to touch that <i>scaldino</i>, +would you?"</p> + +<p>Bianca mewed. She was rather bewildered by her walk +through the town, but as long as her two friends were +satisfied, that was enough for her.</p> + +<p>As they came out upon the more crowded thoroughfare, +the twins with their white cat attracted some attention, and +many laughing remarks were shouted to them as they edged +their way along the narrow paved street, where the absence +of any pathway made it necessary to keep their eyes very +wide open indeed, to avoid being run over by the carts and +carriages.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 470px;"> +<img src="images/image057.png" width="470" height="400" alt=""THE TWINS WITH THEIR WHITE CAT ATTRACTED SOME +ATTENTION."" title=""THE TWINS WITH THEIR WHITE CAT ATTRACTED SOME +ATTENTION."" /> +<span class="caption">"THE TWINS WITH THEIR WHITE CAT ATTRACTED SOME +ATTENTION."</span> +</div> + +<p>Tutti walked in charge of Bianca, while Tuttu devoted +all his attention to the <i>scaldino</i> in its red handkerchief, +and a large green cotton umbrella he had brought from +home in case the day should turn out to be rainy.</p> + +<p>This umbrella seemed to be endowed with life, so extraordinary +was its power of wriggling itself under the legs of +the passers by. It had to be constantly wrenched out, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +many apologies, by its owner; while the person who had been +nearly tripped up by it, went on his—or her—way grumbling.</p> + +<p>No one did more than grumble, however, for the look of +horror on Tuttu's face was irresistible.</p> + +<p>"Go on, Tutti; do hurry!" he cried, urgently. "I'm +getting so hot with this horrible umbrella. It seems to +catch hold of people whichever way I carry it!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I <i>am</i> going," replied Tutti laconically. "But remember, +I've got the cat."</p> + +<p>As he spoke a boy darted out from one of the grim old +houses close by, and picking up a loose stone threw it at +Bianca, grazing her head, and leaving a great red stain that +commenced to trickle slowly down her spotless white body.</p> + +<p>Tuttu, his eyes blazing with wrath, placed the <i>scaldino</i> by +the side of the kerbstone, and darted at the boy, waving his +umbrella; while Tutti threw his arms round Bianca's neck +and tried to hush her mews of terror by a shower of tears +and kisses.</p> + +<p>"How <i>dare</i> you?" shouted Tuttu, beside himself with +anger. "Go away, and leave our poor Bianca! You've +killed her, I expect; and I wish I could kill you!" But +even in the midst of his ungovernable rage, Tutti's voice +reached him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Tuttu, Tuttu! the <i>scaldino</i>!"</p> + +<p>Tuttu darted across the street towards the stone where +he had left the precious red bundle. There it was, lying unhurt, +and he was about to seize it and carry it to a place of +safety, when a fast-trotting horse with one of the light +country gigs behind him, dashed down the street.</p> + +<p>"Get out of the way! Get out of the way!" shouted the +driver—but it was too late!</p> + +<p>The gig flew on, and Tuttu lay white and quiet, the +<i>scaldino</i> still grasped in his two little outstretched hands.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3> + + +<p>"Where's the <i>scaldino</i>, grandmother?" were Tuttu's first +words, when he woke up to find himself lying on a little bed +in a long room, with Maddalena and Father Giacomo bending +over him. "We saved up.... It's all for you...." he +muttered brokenly, "Have you got it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lamb. A beautiful one it is," said the old +woman, the tears streaming down her wrinkled face. "You +lie still and get better, my Tuttu."</p> + +<p>"I will, grandmother, but I want you to see the surprise +inside. It's from weeding.... Father Giacomo will tell you. +I'm so tired, grandmother.... How's Bianca?"</p> + +<p>"Very well, Tuttu, she has only a slight scratch.... Oh, +my poor boy!" and Father Giacomo's voice broke.</p> + +<p>"Is it near evening?" said Tuttu, after a few minutes, +during which he lay moving his head restlessly.</p> + +<p>"It soon will be," said the Padre. "Why do you ask, +Tuttu?"</p> + +<p>"The <i>fiasco</i>.... Do you think I may put a bean in +to-night, or was I too angry?"</p> + +<p>"You may, Tuttu," said Father Giacomo, turning away +his head. "If you tell me where it is, I will send for it."</p> + +<p>"By the melon bed. Tutti knows. He'll bring it," +whispered Tuttu. "It's nearly full—only four days more. +Put one in for Tutti."</p> + +<p>As the setting sun streamed into the long room, Tutti<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +crept in, holding Father Giacomo's hand; carrying the broken +<i>fiasco</i>.</p> + +<p>Tuttu awoke from a restless sleep as they entered, and +smiled with a faint reflection of his old happy laugh. "That's +right, Tutti. You <i>have</i> been good, haven't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," quavered Tutti, lifting his terrified, tear-stained +face to his brother.</p> + +<p>"Put your bean in then, Tutti, and give me mine. It's +getting so late, it's almost night-time."</p> + +<p>Tutti held out the bean with a trembling hand, and as it +dropped into the old bottle, little Tuttu gave a quiet sigh.</p> + +<p>"It only wants four more," he said happily.</p> + +<p>Only four more! But Tuttu might never put them in. +That night he started on a long, long journey, and as the old +grandmother with choking sobs placed the broken bottle on +a shelf among her treasures, she turned to Tutti who was +lying, worn out with grief, upon the doorstep.</p> + +<p>"Come, my Tutti," she said, "there are only us two now. +We must try and be very good to each other."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Years afterwards, Tutti, coming home on leave—for he +had clung to his childish idea of being a soldier—found the +broken <i>fiasco</i> in the corner where his grandmother had hidden +it; and taking out the beans that had been lying there so +long, he carried them to a little grave with a small white +cross at the head of it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Dear Tuttu! He would like to have these growing +round him," he thought, and planted them carefully amongst +the flowers and grasses.</p> + +<p>Grandmother Maddalena was too old to move out of the +house now, but Father Giacomo watered the beans lovingly, +and in the soft spring air they grew rapidly, so that they soon +formed a beautiful tangle, hiding the cross and even the +name that still stood there clearly in black letters</p> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Tuttu</span>."<br /></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="The_Stone-Maiden" id="The_Stone-Maiden"></a>The Stone-Maiden.</h2> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>Atven was the son of a fisherman, and lived with +his father on a flat sandy coast far away in the +North-land.</p> + +<p>Great rocks strewed the shore about their hut, and the +child had often been told how, long, long ago, the giant Thor +fought single-handed against a shipload of wild men who +attempted to land in the little bay; and drove them off—killing +some, and changing others into the wonderful stones +that remained there to that day.</p> + +<p>The country people called them "Thor's balls;" and +Atven often wandered about amongst them, trying to find +likenesses to the old warriors in their weather-worn surfaces; +and peering into every hole and cranny—half dreading, half +hoping to see a stone hand stretched out to him from the +misty shadows of the past.</p> + +<p>Here and there, a row of smaller boulders lay half sunk in +the sand, with only their rounded tops, covered with long +brown seaweed, appearing above the surface.</p> + +<p>These, Atven decided, must be the heads of the ancient +Norsemen, and further on stood their huge mis-shapen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +bodies, twisted into every imaginable form, and covered by +myriads of shell-fish, that clung to their grey sides like suits +of shining armour.</p> + +<p>Atven was often lonely; for he had no brothers or sisters, +and his mother had died many years before. He was a shy, +wild boy—more at home with the sea birds that flew about +the lonely shore, than with the children he met sometimes +as he wandered about the country; but in spite of his shyness +he had friends who loved him everywhere he went. +The house dogs on every farm knew his step, and ran +out to greet him; the horses rubbed their noses softly +upon his homespun tunic; the birds clustered on his +shoulders; the cats came purring up, and the oxen lowed and +shook their bells as soon as they caught sight of him. The +very hens cackled loudly for joy—and Atven would caress +them all with his brown hand, and had a kind word for every +one of them.</p> + +<p>All the short Northern summer, Atven spent his evenings +in searching about amongst "Thor's balls" for traces of the +warriors of the old legend; and one night, in the soft clearness +of the twilight, he came upon something that rewarded +him for all his patient perseverance.</p> + +<p>Lifting a mass of seaweed that had completely covered +one of the larger rocks, he saw before him the graceful form +of a little Stone-maiden!</p> + +<p>There she lay, as though quietly sleeping, her long dress +falling in straight folds to her feet, her rippled hair spreading<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +about her. One small hand grasped a chain upon her neck, +the other was embedded in the rock on which she was lying.</p> + +<p>Atven was so astonished that he stared at the child-figure +as if turned into a statue himself.</p> + +<p>Then he realized that his long search had been rewarded, +and he fell on his knees and prayed that the Stone-maiden +might be released from her prison, and given to him to be +a little playfellow.</p> + +<p>As soon as it was daylight the next morning, he started +off to ask the advice of his one friend, the old Priest of +Adgard.</p> + +<p>The day was fine, with a crisp northern air, and a bright +sun that danced on the long stretches of sandy grass, and +on the swaying boughs of the fir trees.</p> + +<p>Atven's heart beat hopefully as he neared the neat wooden +house in which the old Priest lived.</p> + +<p>Father Johannes welcomed him kindly, as he always did; +and listened attentively whilst Atven told his story.</p> + +<p>"It must have consideration, my child," he said. "I +will come down to the shore to-morrow—perhaps I may +be able to think of something."</p> + +<p>Atven took up his cap humbly, and started on his homeward +journey.</p> + +<p>As he threaded his way beneath the shadows of the pine-trees, +the sun's fingers darted through the branches and drew +a golden pattern on the mossy ground under his feet; the +mosquitoes hummed drowsily, the air was full of soft<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +summer warmth and brightness—but Atven's thoughts were +far away with the ancient legend and the Stone-maiden.</p> + +<p>How had she come to be amongst the shipload of "wild-men" +in the misty ages when Thor yet walked the earth? +Had she a father and mother who loved her, and perhaps +brothers and sisters—and how long had she been sleeping +so quietly in the arms of the great rock?</p> + +<p>It was a strange cradle, with only the sea to sing her +lullaby, and wash her lovingly, like a tender mother!</p> + +<p>Atven hurried on; and as he peered before him with +sun-dazzled eyes, he thought he saw a figure flitting in and +out between the brown tree stems.</p> + +<p>It was a small, light figure, with a strange kind of loose +dress, and long floating hair of a beautiful gold colour. It +glided along so rapidly that Atven had some difficulty in +keeping pace with it.</p> + +<p>Every now and again it seemed to be beckoning to him +with one little hand; and at last as he ran faster and faster, +it suddenly turned its head, and he saw the face of a +beautiful young woman. Her brown eyes were soft and +clear, and her cheeks tinted with a colour so delicate, it +reminded Atven of the little pink shells he sometimes found +after a storm upon the sea-shore.</p> + +<p>"Atven! Atven!" she murmured, "You have found my +child. Give her life! Give her life!"</p> + +<p>"Tell me what I am to do!" cried Atven, and stretched +out his hands towards the beautiful young woman; but at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +that moment she reached the shore, and gliding between +the boulders, disappeared amongst their dark shadows.</p> + +<p>Atven threw himself down beside the rock on which the +Stone-maiden lay sleeping. He grieved for her so much that +tears rolled slowly down his cheeks, and as they touched the +stone, the great boulder shook and crumbled, and a shudder +passed over the figure of the Stone-maiden. She seemed to +Atven to sigh gently, and half open her eyes; but in a +moment they closed again; the rock settled into its place, +and everything was motionless.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow! To-morrow!" he said to himself, "When +Father Johannes comes, he will help me."</p> + +<p>Early next morning the old Priest knocked at the door of +the fisherman's hut. He had started at daybreak, for he +knew that Atven would be anxiously awaiting him.</p> + +<p>They went down together to the shore; and when Father +Johannes saw the figure of the sleeping child, he took out +of his bark basket, a little jar of water from the Church Well, +and sprinkled it over her.</p> + +<p>The Stone-maiden stirred and opened her eyes. She +raised her hands, breathed gently, and lifting her head, gazed +at the old Priest and the boy with wistful brown eyes, like +those of the figure Atven had met in the forest.</p> + +<p>"Where is my father? Where am I?" she asked, in a +low soft voice, as she rose up from the rock, and shook out +the folds of her long dress.</p> + +<p>Father Johannes took her hand, and gently repeated the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +old legend; while the Stone-maiden listened with wide-open +eyes.</p> + +<p>"I remember it all now," she said, as the puzzled look +faded from her face. "We had but just landed when the +thick cloud came down, and a shower of stones fell upon us. +My father was smitten down with all his followers, and I +only was left weeping upon the shore. A cold air seemed +to breathe upon me, and I fell asleep."</p> + +<p>She spoke slowly, in the old Norse tongue, but Father +Johannes had studied it, and understood her without much +questioning.</p> + +<p>"Where was your mother?" he asked kindly, as Atven +with smiles of delight, seized her other hand.</p> + +<p>"My mother died just before we set sail, and my father +would not leave me lonely," answered the Stone-maiden +sadly.</p> + +<p>"But we will all love you now," cried Atven. "I will +grow tall and strong to work for you, and you shall never be +unhappy any more!"</p> + +<p>The Stone-maiden smiled, as she stood on the threshold +of her new life. She looked up trustingly at her two friends, +and the old Priest of Asgard, bending down, laid his hand +upon her head with a gentle blessing.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The Warriors' heads, with their tangled elf-locks, still peer +out of the drifting sand—the twisted bodies in their sea<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +armour, lie half surrounded by the green waters; but the +log hut, and Atven have vanished into the misty shadows of +the past. They, and the good old priest, have drifted away +to Shadow-Land.</p> + +<p>Only the sea talks of them still; and croons them a lullaby, +as soft as the centuries-old song, it sang over the cradle of +the enchanted Stone-maiden.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="The_Grass_of_Parnassus" id="The_Grass_of_Parnassus"></a>The Grass of Parnassus.</h2> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>On the banks of a clear stream in one of the far +away Greek islands, grew a small flowering plant, +with delicate stem and transparent white flower, +called "Grass of Parnassus."</p> + +<p>Every day it saw its own face, reflected in the running +water, and every day it made the same complaint—</p> + +<p>"This place is beautiful, the soft earth wraps me round, +the branches bend over me, but I can never be happy, for +I have never seen a River-God!"</p> + +<p>The fish swimming close to the shore had talked to the +Grass, of the mysterious race who lived in the shallows of +the river, higher up, where it broadened into a lake; and +played on their rude pipes as they rested in the flickering +gloom of the water-weeds and rushes.</p> + +<p>"Everyone has seen the River-Gods but me!" said the +white flower. "The wind brings me the floating sound of +their piping—I can even hear their laughter, and the echo +of their voices. Yet they do not come, and I may wither, and +never have the happiness I long for!"</p> + +<p>But one day, the river-side thrilled, with a strange, new<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +feeling of hope and expectation. The sun shone, a faint +breeze stirred the trees; and down the stream waded a +beautiful youth, carrying his pipes in his hand, blowing a few +notes mournfully, at long intervals. His hair, crowned with +an ivy wreath, hung down, curled and tangled; his hoof-feet +splashed in the shallows of the water, and he cried—</p> + +<p>"Nadiä! Nadiä! Where are you hiding—Why do you +not come to me?"</p> + +<p>The white flower remained, enchanted and motionless, upon +its stem, bending its yellow eye upon the stranger.</p> + +<p>"Nadiä! Nadiä!" the voice wailed, "Do not hide from +me any more!—Come to me!"</p> + +<p>The bushes rustled and parted; a delicate girl's face looked +out, and a wood nymph in floating garments, slid to the +side of the stream, and dabbled her white feet in the water.</p> + +<p>The youth gave a cry of joy; "I have found you, Nadiä! +I have piped to you, and called to you till I was weary; +but I loved you, and at last I have found you!"</p> + +<p>The wood nymph smiled as she sat in the flickering +shadows—and the River-God bending down, gathered the +Grass of Parnassus, and placed it timidly in her shining +tresses.</p> + +<p>The wish of the white flower had been fulfilled; but the +end of its life's longing was—Death.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="The_Hedgehogs_Coffee_Party" id="The_Hedgehogs_Coffee_Party"></a>The Hedgehogs' Coffee Party.</h2> + +<h4><span class="smcap">A Story of Thuringia.</span></h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3> + + +<p>It was winter time, and the Thuringia-Wald lay +still and white under its snowy covering.</p> + +<p>The fir trees waved their branches in the frosty +air, and a clear moon had risen over the mountains.</p> + +<p>All was quiet and deserted, except that a faint sound of +music and singing floated on the wind, coming undoubtedly +from the comfortable burrow of the Hedgehog family, who +lived under one of the largest pine stumps.</p> + +<p>Councillor Igel—for the father was a member of the +Hedgehog Government—had consented to allow the young +people to have one or two friends to coffee, and they had +been dancing with the greatest spirit for the last half hour.</p> + +<p>By the porcelain stove stood the Councillor's only brother, +Uncle Columbus, who had devoted himself since childhood +to learned pursuits, and was much respected by the rest of +the family.</p> + +<p>He looked down upon all amusements as frivolous, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +then he had been to College, so his superior mind was only +what was to be expected.</p> + +<p>The Councillor belonged to an ancient Thuringian race +who had been settled for centuries in the forest near the +little town of Ruhla. They were a proud family, for one +of their uncles had, some years before, been called to take +up the position of Court Hedgehog at the Royal country +Palace, where he moved in the highest society, and occasionally +invited his relations to visit him.</p> + +<p>"But fifty miles is really almost too far to go with nothing +but a cup of coffee at the end," said the Hedgehog-mother, +"and he never invites us to sleep. We don't, therefore, see +so much of him as we otherwise should do."</p> + +<p>"That must be very trying," replied the Mole-mother, to +whom these confidences were being poured out.</p> + +<p>"Yes, for of course it would be an inestimable advantage +to the children to see a little Court life. However, with the +fashions altering so quickly, it would be difficult for me to +arrange their dresses in the last mode—and I couldn't have +them looked down upon."</p> + +<p>"Of course not," humbly replied the Mole-mother. She +was sitting by the table, with her homespun knitting in her +hand; and though she was trying to pay attention to her +friend's words, she was arranging her dinner for the next day +at the same time, and wondering whether her eldest child +could have one more tuck let out of her frock before Christmas +time.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's all very well for the Hedgehog-mother," she thought. +"She comes of a high family, and can live in luxury; but +with all my children, and my poor husband working away +from morning till night, I'm obliged to plan every coffee +bean, or I could never keep the house together!"</p> + +<p>The Councillor's wife, however, talked on without noticing +her distraction.</p> + +<p>"Do you ever find any inconveniences from living so near +the town?" she enquired. "Do the boys ever annoy you? +They are sometimes very ill-bred."</p> + +<p>"Our house is in such a retired position, I seldom see anyone," +replied the Mole-mother. "The Forester's family are +our nearest neighbours, and really they are so kind they might +almost be Moles themselves."</p> + +<p>"That is very pleasant for you," said the Frau Councillor. +"<i>Our</i> case is quite different. The Rats who keep the inn at +the cross roads, are most disagreeable people. We can't +associate with them."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 354px;"> +<img src="images/image075.png" width="354" height="400" alt=""THE RATS WHO KEEP THE INN ARE MOST DISAGREEABLE +PEOPLE."" title=""THE RATS WHO KEEP THE INN ARE MOST DISAGREEABLE +PEOPLE."" /> +<span class="caption">"THE RATS WHO KEEP THE INN ARE MOST DISAGREEABLE +PEOPLE."</span> +</div> + +<p>"Gypsies!" cried Uncle Columbus at this moment. He +had an unpleasant habit when he did not like the conversation, +of suddenly reminding the family of a tragedy that had +happened some sixty years ago, when a promising young +Hedgehog had been carried off to captivity by a band of +travelling Tinkers, and finally disposed of in a way too terrible +to be alluded to.</p> + +<p>The Councillor's wife looked angry, and hastily changed +the subject.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He is quite a trial to us sometimes!" she whispered to +the Mole-mother. "Such bad taste to mention Gypsies. +It makes me tremble in every quill!"</p> + +<p>"I think I must be going now," said the Mole-mother +hurriedly, putting away her knitting into a reticule, and +tying a woollen hood over her head—for she felt that it +would not do for strangers to be mixed up in these family +matters.</p> + +<p>Calling her children to her, she helped them into their +warm galoshes; and lighting a small lantern, they were soon +out in the snowy forest.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3> + + +<p>"Oh, mother, I wish we were rich like the Hedgehogs," +cried the eldest daughter, Emmie; "Wilhelm and Fritz +are so fashionable, and on Berta's birthday they are going +to give a grand coffee party, to which the Court Hedgehog +is expected!"</p> + +<p>"Well, they won't ask us, so you had better not think +too much about it," said the Mole-mother; "don't let your +mind run on vanities."</p> + +<p>As she spoke they saw the two rats from the Inn coming +towards them. The elder—the proprietor of the Inn—in +a peasant's dress with a pipe in his mouth, dragging a +small sledge on which three infant rats were seated, wrapped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +in a fur rug, while their mother walked beside them, her +homespun cloak trailing over the snow.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, neighbours!" cried the Mole-mother +pleasantly, for though she did not exactly approve of the +Rat household, she always treated them with civility. +"Where are you out so late? How well the children are +looking!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, they grow rapidly—bless their little tails and +whiskers!" said the Rat-mother proudly. "We have just +been to my brother's in the town, taking a cup of coffee +with him, and there we heard some news. <i>I</i> can tell you! +There's to be a grand Coffee Party at the Hedgehogs, and +though all the guests have been invited, <i>we</i> alone are left +out. Most insulting <i>I</i> call it!"</p> + +<p>"Well, it <i>is</i> rude," allowed the Mole-mother, "but they've +not asked us either. You see the Court Hedgehog is to be +there, and so it is very select."</p> + +<p>"Select! I'll make them select!" growled the proprietor +of the Inn with a scowl. "Who are they I should like to +know? They may have Gypsies upon them at any moment!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I hope not!" cried the Mole-mother.</p> + +<p>"There's a Tinker's boy in the town," said the Innkeeper, +darkly, "and he's always looking out for Hedgehogs—I +shouldn't be surprised if he heard where the family live."</p> + +<p>"Good-night!" said the Mole-mother, nervously, and +hurried on with her children.</p> + +<p>"Some mischief will be done if we don't watch," she said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +to Emmie, who was a mole of unusual intelligence. "I'll +tell your brother to keep his eye on the Rat Inn."</p> + +<p>After about half an hour's walking, they arrived at home; +for their house was in a secluded position in the most unfrequented +part of the forest.</p> + +<p>Though very simple, it was clean and well kept, and +furnished with a large cooking stove, a four-post bedstead, +and a few wooden benches.</p> + +<p>In the one arm-chair sat the Mole-father, reading the +newspaper; while his sister, Aunt Betta, with a cap with +long streaming ribbons on her head, was busily stirring +something in a saucepan.</p> + +<p>As the Mole-mother and her family, descended the stone +stairway that led from the upper air, a delicious smell of +cooking greeted them. Two large tallow candles were burning +brightly, and altogether the house presented a very lively +appearance.</p> + +<p>"Here you are at last," cried the Mole-father. "Supper is +just ready, and I have sent Karl to the Inn for some +lager-beer."</p> + +<p>"I wonder if he will hear anything," said the Mole-mother +taking off her galoshes; and then she related all the news of +the evening.</p> + +<p>"If there isn't some mischief brewing, may I be made into +waistcoats!" exclaimed the Mole-father, throwing down his +newspaper.</p> + +<p>It was his favourite expression when much excited, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +never failed to give the Mole-mother a shiver all down her +back. She called it such very strong language.</p> + +<p>At this moment Karl came clattering down the steps.</p> + +<p>"Oh, father! mother! I <i>have</i> heard something!" he +shouted. "The Rat-father has started off to the Tinker's to +tell the boy where the Hedgehogs are living!"</p> + +<p>The Mole-mother sank down on a bench gasping.</p> + +<p>"He's done it then! Oh, the poor Hedgehogs!" she +cried wringing her hands, "They'll be cooked in clay before +they can turn round."</p> + +<p>"Don't be in such a hurry, wife," said the Mole-father. +"I've thought of something. We won't terrify the Hedgehogs—What +can <i>they</i> do?—but we'll collect all the Moles of +the neighbourhood, and make a burrow all round the house; +then if the Tinker's son comes, he'll fall in, and can't get +any further. What do you think of that, eh?"</p> + +<p>"An excellent idea!" said the Mole-mother, recovering. +"Send Karl round to-night, and begin the first thing to-morrow +morning."</p> + +<p>As soon as daylight dawned in the forest, the Mole-father, +accompanied by his wife and children, and all their +friends; went out in a long procession, with their shovels and +wheelbarrows, and commenced work round the Hedgehogs' +house.</p> + +<p>The Councillor's family were so busily occupied in turning +out, and arranging, their rooms for the festivity—which was to +include a dance in the evening—that they had no time to take<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +any notice of the Moles' digging; in fact they never even +observed it. The younger Hedgehogs were roasting coffee. +The house-mother sugared the cakes in the back-kitchen, +while the Councillor, with a large holland apron, rubbed +down the floor, and gave a final dust to the furniture.</p> + +<p>As to Uncle Columbus—he sat on a sort of island of chairs +in one corner, studying a book, and looking on misanthropically +at the preparations.</p> + +<p>The Moles, therefore, were quite uninterrupted, and +burrowed away vigorously, until the earth all round the +house was mined to a depth of several feet; and they returned +home to dinner in high spirits.</p> + +<p>"If that boy dares to venture, may I be made into waistcoats, +if he doesn't fall in!" cried the Mole-father, wiping +his face with a red cotton pocket-handkerchief—for though +the snow was on the ground the work was exhausting.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3> + + +<p>The Tinker's family sat round a fire, in one of the tumble-down +wooden cottages that dotted the outskirts of the little +town of Ruhla.</p> + +<p>A small stove scarcely warmed the one room, for great +cracks appeared in the walls in every direction.</p> + +<p>"We've got no dinner to-day; are you going after those +Hedgehogs?" said the Tinker to his son Otto. "Now you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +know where they are, it will be an easy thing to get hold +of them."</p> + +<p>"Yes; we'll have a fine supper to-night," said Otto, +stamping his feet to get them warm. "Come with me, +Johann, and we'll take the old sack over our shoulders to +bring them back in."</p> + +<p>They started off over the crisp snow sparkling in the +early sunshine, away to the forest; and straight towards the +great pine tree, which sheltered the underground home of +Councillor Igel.</p> + +<p>"Come, Johann!" cried Otto, bounding along over the +slippery pathway; but Johann was small and fat, and his +little legs could not keep pace with Otto's long ones. He +soon fell behind, and Otto raced on by himself.</p> + +<p>"Do be careful, Otto! There's lots of Moles here," cried +little Johann, but Otto did not stop to listen. On he ran +almost up to the pine tree; when Johann saw him suddenly +jump into the air, and disappear through the snow with a +loud shriek.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3> + + +<p>At the sound of the fall, the Councillor ran up the steps to +his front door, and put out his head cautiously to see what +was the matter.</p> + +<p>"Gypsies!" said Uncle Columbus without raising his eyes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +from his book; and for the first time in his life he was right!</p> + +<p>Gypsies it certainly was, as the Councillor soon determined; +and he hastily scratched some snow over the door, +and retired to the back kitchen with his whole family, in a +terrible state of fright and excitement.</p> + +<p>"What <i>can</i> the boy have fallen into?" he enquired vainly +of the Hedgehog-mother, and of Uncle Columbus, in turn. +"There are no houses there that <i>I</i> know of. We have been +saved by almost a miracle!"</p> + +<p>As they remained shuddering in a little frightened knot—only +Uncle Columbus maintaining his philosophical calm—the +air filled with the odour of burnt sugar; a faint knocking +was heard against the side of the stove pipe, and in another +minute the Mole-father's red nightcap appeared through a +hole, and his kind face shortly followed.</p> + +<p>"Don't be frightened," he said reassuringly. "I have +made a little tunnel and come through—merely to +explain things. I thought perhaps you might be a little +alarmed."</p> + +<p>"Alarmed!" cried the Hedgehog-mother. "It doesn't +describe it! Terrified, and distracted, is nearer to the real +thing. The sugar biscuits are all spoilt, for I forgot them +in the oven; and my daughter Berta fainted on the top of +the stove, and is so seriously singed, she will be unable to +appear at the party. Not that we shall be able to have a +party now," continued the Hedgehog-mother, weeping, "for +Uncle Columbus sat down on the plum cake in mistake for a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +foot-stool, and Fritz has trodden on the punch bottles. Oh, +what a series of misfortunes!"</p> + +<p>"Cheer up, my good neighbour, all will come right in +time," said the Mole-father encouragingly.</p> + +<p>"As long as the Court Hedgehog doesn't appear in the +middle," wailed the Councillor. "It makes me shudder in +every quill to think of it. Not even a front door to receive +him at!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, as to that, let him come to us, and we will give +him the best we have," replied the Mole-father. "Our place +is homely, but I daresay he will condescend to put up with it +till your house is in order again. I sent Karl on to intercept +him, and explain just how it is. He will take him straight +to our house till you are ready for him."</p> + +<p>"Well, I must say you have been exceedingly thoughtful," +said the Councillor, pompously, "and I feel sincerely grateful +to you; but now, will you kindly explain to me the cause +of this severe disturbance?"</p> + +<p>"I think I'll come into the room first, if you'll allow me," +said the Mole-father. "I am getting rather a crick in the +neck from sticking my head through here."</p> + +<p>"Come in by all means," said the Hedgehog-mother, +graciously. "I am sorry to be obliged to receive you in this +humble apartment."</p> + +<p>"Gypsies!" growled Uncle Columbus, who was brushing +the currants and crumbs off his coat with a duster.</p> + +<p>The Mole-father had by this time worked himself into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +kitchen, dragging his spade after him; and seated on a bench +by the stove, he related the whole story to the Councillor, +but carefully omitted to give the name of the person who +had betrayed the Hedgehogs to the Tinker's family; and notwithstanding +the requests of the whole family, he firmly +refused to do so.</p> + +<p>"All's well that ends well," he said cheerfully, "and as I +heard the Tinker forbidding his sons ever to come near the +place again, you will be quite safe in the future."</p> + +<p>"What has happened to that dreadful boy? Is he still +in the hole, or have they got him out?" enquired the +Hedgehog-mother anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Got him out some time ago," said the Mole-father, +"and carried him off to the hospital. Broke his leg, I am +sorry to say, though it's nothing very bad. He will be all +right in six weeks or so. I don't think much of those human +fractures."</p> + +<p>"Serves him right," said the Councillor viciously. "And +now, my good preserver, in what way can we show our +gratitude to you? I shall send Fritz and Wilhelm into the +town for more provisions, and we might have our Coffee +Party after all. What do you say to that, my children?"</p> + +<p>The family clapped their hands joyfully.</p> + +<p>"I trust you and your family will grace the party?" +said the Hedgehog-mother to the old Mole.</p> + +<p>"On one condition," he replied, "I shall be delighted to +do so; and that is that you will allow me to ask the Rats<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +from the Inn. They are touchy people, and do not readily +forgive an injury."</p> + +<p>"What I said all along," muttered Uncle Columbus, +lifting his eyes from his dusting. "I said 'away with pride,' +but I wasn't listened to."</p> + +<p>"You will be now," said the Councillor in a soothing and +dignified manner. "Certainly; send an invitation to the +Inn if you wish it. Just write, 'To meet the Court Hedgehog,' +at the top, Wilhelm; it will make it more gratifying."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER V.</h3> + + +<p>The Court Hedgehog, with an escort of six guards, had +meanwhile arrived at the Mole's house, and was being entertained +by the Mole-mother and her children, who were all +in a state of great nervousness.</p> + +<p>The Court Hedgehog, however, appeared to be more +condescending than could have been expected from his +position. He accepted some refreshment, and a pipe of +the Mole-father's tobacco, and then reclining in the one +easy chair, he awaited the course of events with calmness.</p> + +<p>Here the Councillor found him some hours later, when the +confusion in the Hedgehog household having been smoothed +over—a deputation of the father and sons started to bring +the distinguished guest home in triumph.</p> + +<p>The rooms in the Councillor's house had all been gaily<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +decorated with pine branches; the stove sent out a pleasant +glow; and the Hedgehog-mother, in her best cap and a stiff +black silk dress, stood waiting to welcome her guests in the +ante-room.</p> + +<p>By her side sat Berta, who had fortunately recovered +sufficiently to be present at the entertainment; though still +suffering from the effects of the shock, and with her +head tied up in a silk handkerchief.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 386px;"> +<img src="images/image088.png" width="386" height="400" alt="The Court Hedgehog." title="The Court Hedgehog." /> +</div> + +<p>As the Court Hedgehog appeared in the doorway, three of the younger +children, concealed in a bower of branches, commenced to sing an ode +composed by Uncle Columbus for the occasion, beginning "Welcome to our +honoured guest,"—while a fiddler hired for the occasion +accompanied it upon the violin, behind a red curtain.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + +<p>The first visitors to arrive were the Moles; followed by +the Rat family, who were filled with remorse when they +received the invitation, at the thought of their treacherous +behaviour.</p> + +<p>"I declare, mother," said the Innkeeper to his wife in a +whisper, "the Mole-father is such a good creature, I shall +be ashamed to quarrel with any of his friends for the future. +'Live and let live,' ought to be our motto."</p> + +<p>Uncle Columbus did not appear till late in the evening, +when he entered the room dressed in an antiquated blue +coat with brass buttons, finished off by a high stand-up +white collar.</p> + +<p>He staggered in, carrying a large plum cake about twice +the size of the one he had unfortunately sat down upon; +which he placed upon the coffee table, where the Hedgehog-mother +was presiding over a large collection of various cups, +mugs, and saucers.</p> + +<p>"I have only just come back from town, where I went +to procure a cake fit for this happy occasion," he whispered. +"It does my heart good to see this neighbourly gathering, +and I have made up my mind to promise you something in +memory of the event. I will from this day, give up for ever a +habit which I know has been objectionable to you—the word +'Gypsies' shall never again be mentioned in the family."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Uncle_Volodia" id="Uncle_Volodia"></a>Uncle Volodia.</h2> + +<h4><span class="smcap">A Story of a Russian Village</span>.</h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3> + + +<p>On the one hill of the district, just outside the village +of Viletna, stood the great house belonging to +Madame Olsheffsky.</p> + +<p>All round it lay, what had once in the days gone by, been +elaborate gardens, but were now a mere tangle of brushwood, +waving grass, and wild flowers.</p> + +<p>Beyond this, again, were fields of rye and hemp, bounded +on one side by the shining waters of the great Seloe Lake, +dug by hundreds of slaves in the time of Madame Olsheffsky's +great-grandfather; and on the other by the dim greenness +of a pine forest, which stretched away into the distance for +mile after mile, until it seemed to melt into the misty line +of the horizon.</p> + +<p>Between the lake and the gardens of the great house, lay +Viletna, with its rough log houses, sandy street, and great +Church, crowned with a cupola like a gaily-painted melon; +where Elena, Boris, and Daria, the three children of Madame<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +Olsheffsky, drove every Sunday with their mother in the +old-fashioned, tumble-down carriage.</p> + +<p>All the week the children looked forward to this expedition, +for with the exception of an occasional visit to Volodia +Ivanovitch's shop in the village, it was the only break in +the quiet monotony of their lives.</p> + +<p>They were allowed to go to Volodia's, whenever they had +money enough to buy anything; and often spent the afternoon +there listening to his long tales, and examining the +contents of the shop, which seemed to supply all that any +reasonable person could wish for—from a ball of twine to +a wedding dress.</p> + +<p>Volodia himself, had been a servant at the great house +many years before, "when the place was kept up as a country +gentleman's should be"—he was fond of explaining to the +children—"but when the poor dear master was taken off to +Siberia—he was as good as a saint, and no one knew what +they found out against him—then the Government took all +his money, and your mother had to manage as well as she +could with the little property left her by your grandfather. +She ought to have owned all the country round, but your +great-grandfather was an extravagant man, Boris Andreïevitch! +and he sold everything he could lay hands on!"</p> + +<p>Elena and Boris always listened respectfully. They had +the greatest opinion of "Uncle Volodia's" wisdom, and they +could just remember the time of grief and excitement when +their father left them; but it had all happened so long ago<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +that though their mother often spoke of him, and their old +nurse Var-Vara was never tired of relating anecdotes of his +childhood, they had gradually begun to think of him, not as +a living person, but as one of the heroes of the old romances +that still lingered on the shelves of the dilapidated library.</p> + +<p>It was a happy life the children led in the great white house. +It made no difference to them that the furniture was old and +scanty, that the rooms were bare, and the plaster falling away +in many places from the walls and ceilings.</p> + +<p>Their mother was there, and all their old friends, and +they wished for nothing further.</p> + +<p>Was there not Toulu, the horse, in his stall in the ruined +stable; Tulipan, the Pomeranian dog, Adam, the old butler, +and Alexis, the "man of all work," who rowed their boat on +the lake, tidied the garden—as well as the weeds and his own +natural laziness would allow him—and was regarded by Boris +as the type of all manly perfection!</p> + +<p>What could children want more? Especially as Volodia +was always ready at a moment's notice to tell them a story, +carve them a peasant or a dog from a chip of pine-wood, +dance a jig, or entertain them in a hundred other ways dear +to the heart of Russian children.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3> + + +<p>On one of the clear dry days of an early Russian autumn, +when a brilliant glow of colour and sunshine floods the air, +and the birch trees turned to golden glories shake their +fluttering leaves like brilliant butterflies, Elena, Boris, and +Daria, stood on one of the wide balconies of the great house, +with their mother beside them, sorting seeds and tying them +up in packets for the springtime.</p> + +<p>Some large hydrangeas, and orange trees, in green tubs, +made a background to the little scene.</p> + +<p>The eager children with clumsy fingers, bent on being +useful; the pale, thin mother leaning back in her garden +chair smiling at their absorbed faces.</p> + +<p>"Children, I have something I must tell you," commenced +Madame Olsheffsky, seriously, when the last seeds had been +put away and labelled. "It is something that will make +you sad, but you must try and bear it well for my sake, and +for your poor father's—who I hope will return to us one day. +I think you are old enough to know something about our +affairs, Elena, for you are nearly thirteen. Even my little +Boris is almost eleven. Don't look so frightened, darling," +continued Madame Olsheffsky, taking little Daria in her +arms, "it is nothing very dreadful. I am obliged to enter +into a lawsuit—a troublesome, difficult lawsuit. One of our +distant cousins has just found some papers which he thinks +will prove that he ought to have had this estate instead of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +your grandfather, and he is going to try and take it from us. +I have sent a great box of our title deeds to the lawyer in +Viletna, and he is to go through them immediately—but who +knows how it may turn out? Oh, children! you must help +me bravely, if more ill-fortune is to fall upon us!"</p> + +<p>Elena rushed towards her mother, and threw her arms +round her neck. "We will! We will! Don't trouble about +it, dear little mother," she cried. "What does it matter if +we are all together. <i>I</i> will work and dig in the garden, and +Boris can be taught to groom Toulu, and be useful—he really +can be very sensible if he likes. Then Var-Vara will cook, +and Adam and Daria can do the dusting. Oh, we shall +manage beautifully!"</p> + +<p>Madame Olsheffsky smiled through some tears.</p> + +<p>"You are a dear child, Elena! I won't complain any +more while I have all my children to help me. But run now +Boris, and tell Alexis to get the boat ready. I must go to +the other side of the lake, to see that poor child who broke +his arm the other day."</p> + +<p>Boris ran off to the stables with alacrity. He found it +difficult to realize all that his mother had just told them. +"Of course it was very dreadful," he thought, "but very +likely it wouldn't come true. Then, as Elena said, nothing +mattered much if they were all together; and perhaps, if they +were obliged to move into the village, they might live near +Volodia's shop; and the wicked cousin might let them come +and play sometimes in the garden."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Alexis! Alexis!" he shouted into the hay loft, and a brown +face with a shock of black hair, appeared at one of the +windows.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Boris Andreïevitch?"</p> + +<p>"Mamma wants the boat immediately," replied Boris. +"She is going over to see Marsha's sick child."</p> + +<p>Alexis took a handful of sunflower seeds out of his pocket, +and began to eat them meditatively, throwing the husks +behind him.</p> + +<p>"The mistress won't go another day?" he enquired +slowly.</p> + +<p>Boris shook his head.</p> + +<p>"The lake's overflowing, and the dam is none too strong +over there by Viletna," continued Alexis; "it would be +better for her to wait a little."</p> + +<p>"She says she must go to-day," said Boris, "but I will +tell her what you say."</p> + +<p>Madame Olsheffsky, however, refused to put off her visit; +and Elena, Boris, and Daria, looking out from the balcony, +saw the boat with the two figures in it start off from the +little landing-place, and grow smaller and smaller, until it +faded away into a dim speck in the distance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3> + + +<p>Late that afternoon the three children were playing with +Tulipan in the garden, when they heard Volodia's well-known +voice shouting to them—</p> + +<p>"Elena! Boris Andreïevitch!"</p> + +<p>They fancied he seemed to be in a great hurry, and as +they flew towards him, they noticed that he had no hat, and +there was a look of terror on his face that froze Elena's heart +with the certainty of some unknown but terrible misfortune.</p> + +<p>"The lake! the lake!" he panted; "where is the mistress?"</p> + +<p>"Gone to see Marsha's sick child," said Elena, clinging +to little Daria with one hand, and gazing at Volodia with +eyes full of terror.</p> + +<p>"Ah, then it is true. It was her I saw! The poor +mistress! Aïe! Aïe! Don't move, children! Don't stir. +Here is your only safety," cried Volodia in piercing tones. +"The river has flooded into the lake, and the dam +may go any moment. The village will be overwhelmed. +Nothing can save it! The water rises! rises! and any +minute it may burst through! The Saints have mercy! +All our things will be lost; but it is the will of God—we +cannot fight against it." And Volodia crossed himself +devoutly with Russian fatalism.</p> + +<p>"But mamma! what will happen to her?" cried Elena +passionately. "Can nothing be done?"</p> + +<p>"To go towards the lake now would be certain death,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +replied Volodia brokenly. "No, Elena Andreïevna; we +must trust in God. He alone can save her if she is on the +water now! Pray Heaven she may not have started!"</p> + +<p>As he spoke, a long procession of terrified peasants came +winding up the road towards the great house. All the inhabitants +of the village had fled from their threatened homes, +and were taking refuge on the only hill in the neighbourhood.</p> + +<p>Weeping, gesticulating and talking; the men, women, and +children, rushed on in the greatest state of confusion.</p> + +<p>Some carried a few possessions they had snatched up +hastily as they left their houses, some helped the old bed-ridden +people to hobble along on their sticks and crutches; +others led the smaller children, or carried the gaily-painted +chests containing the holiday clothes of the family; while +the boys dragged along the rough unkempt horses, and the +few cows and oxen they had been able to drive in from the +fields close by.</p> + +<p>All, as they came within speaking distance of Elena and +Boris, began to describe their misfortunes; and such a babel +of sound rose on the air that it was impossible to separate +one word from another.</p> + +<p>"Where shall they go to, <i>Matoushka</i>?"[B] enquired Volodia +anxiously, as the strange procession spread itself out amongst +the low-growing birch trees.</p> + +<p>[B] _Matoushka_—little mother.</p> + +<p>Elena shook herself, as if awakening from a horrible +dream.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> +<p>"Oh, it is dreadful! dreadful! But you are welcome, poor +people!" she cried. "Put the horses into the stables—Adam +will show you where—and the dogs too; and come into the +house all of you, if you can get in. The cows must go to +the yard. Oh, Var-Vara!" she added, as she turned to her +old nurse, who had just come out, attracted by the noise. +"Have you heard? Oh, poor mamma! Do you think she +will be safe?" and Elena rushed into the house, and up the +stair of a wooden tower, from which she could see for miles +round, a wide vista of field, lake, and forest.</p> + +<p>No boat was in sight, and the lake looked comparatively +peaceful; but just across the middle stretched an ominous +streak of muddy, rushing water, that beat against the high +grass-grown dam, separating the lake from the village, and +threatened every moment to roll over it.</p> + +<p>Elena held her breath, and listened. There was a dull +roaring sound like distant thunder.</p> + +<p>The streak of brown water surged higher and higher; and +suddenly—in one instant, as it seemed to the terrified child—a +vast volume of water shot over the dam, seeming to carry +it away bodily with its violence; and with a crash like an +earthquake, the pent-up lake burst out in one huge wave, that +rolled towards the village of Viletna, tearing up everything it +passed upon its way.</p> + +<p>Elena turned, and, almost falling downstairs in her terror, +ran headlong towards the group of peasants who had gathered +on the grass before the wooden verandah, and in despairing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +silence were watching the destruction of their fields and +houses.</p> + +<p>Beside them stood the old Priest, his long white hair +shining in the sunshine.</p> + +<p>"My children, let us pray to the good God for any living +things that are in danger!" he said.</p> + +<p>The peasants fell upon their knees.</p> + +<p>"Save them! Save them!" they cried, imploringly, "and +save our cattle and houses!"</p> + +<p>The blue sky stretched overhead, all round the garden the +birch trees shed their quivering glory; the very flowers that +the three children had picked for their mother, in the morning, +lay on a table fresh and unfaded; yet it seemed to Elena +that years must have passed by since she stood there, careless +and happy.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Boris, come with me!" she cried, passionately, "I +can't bear it!"</p> + +<p>Boris, with the tears falling slowly from his eyes, followed +his sister up to the tower, and there they remained till +evening, straining their eyes over the wide stretch of desolate-looking +water.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3> + + +<p>It was some months afterwards. The flood was over, +and the people of Viletna had begun to rebuild their log<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +houses, and collect what could be found of their scattered +belongings.</p> + +<p>A portion of the great dyke had remained standing, so +that the lake did not completely empty itself; and the +peasants were able, with some help from the Government, +to rebuild it.</p> + +<p>Everyone had suffered; but the heaviest blow had fallen +upon the great house, for Madame Olsheffsky never returned +to it. Her boat had been upset and carried away, with the +sudden force of the current, and though Alexis managed to +save himself by clinging to an uprooted pine tree, Madame +Olsheffsky had been torn from him, and sucked under by +the rush of the furious water.</p> + +<p>Elena's face had grown pale and thin during these sad +weeks, and she and Boris looked older; for they had begun +to face the responsibilities of life, with no kind mother to +stand between them and the hard reality.</p> + +<p>To add to their misfortunes, the wooden box containing +the title-deeds of their estate, and all their other valuable +papers; had been swept away with the rest of Lawyer +Drovnine's property, and there seemed no chance that it +would ever be recovered again.</p> + +<p>In the interval, as no defence was forthcoming, the lawsuit +had been decided in favour of the Olsheffsky's cousin; and +the children were now expecting every day to receive the +notice that would turn them out of their old home, and leave +them without a place in the world that really belonged to them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> + +<p>The few relations they had, made no sign to show +they knew of their existence; but they were not without +friends, and one of the first and truest of these was +Volodia.</p> + +<p>"Don't trouble about this lawsuit, Elena Andreïevna," he +said, on one of his frequent visits to the great house. "If +the wickedness of the world is so great, that they rob you +of what rightfully belongs to you; take no notice of it—it +is the will of God. <i>You</i> will come down with Boris +Andreïevitch, and Daria Andreïevna, to my house, where +there is plenty of room for everyone; and my wife will be +proud and honoured. Then Var-Vara can live with her +brother close by—a good honest man, who is well able to +provide for her; and Adam will hire a little place, and retire +with his savings. Alexis shall find a home for Toulu—You +know Alexis works for his father on the farm now, and is +really getting quite active. You see, <i>Matoushka</i>, every one +is nicely provided for, and no one will suffer!"</p> + +<p>"But how can we all live with you, when we have no +money?" said Elena. "Good, kind Volodia! It would +not be fair for us to be a burden to you!"</p> + +<p>"How can you talk of burdens, Elena Andreïevna! It's +quite wrong of you, and really almost makes me angry! +Your grandfather gave me all the money with which I started +in life, and it's no more than paying back a little of it. +Besides, think of the honour! Think what a proud thing it +will be for us. All the village will be envious!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> + +<p>Elena smiled sadly. "I suppose we shall have a little +money left, shan't we, Volodia?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, <i>Matoushka</i>. Plenty for everything you'll +want."</p> + +<p>And so, after much argument and discussion, with many +tears and sad regrets, the three children said good-bye to the +great house; and drove with Toulu down the hill for the last +time, to Volodia's large new wooden house, which had been +re-built in a far handsomer style than the log hut he had lived +in formerly.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER V.</h3> + + +<p>Fortunately the winter that year was late in coming, so +that the peasants of Viletna were able to build some sort of +shelter for themselves before it set in with real severity.</p> + +<p>Volodia's house, which stood in the centre of the village, +had been finished long before any of his neighbours'.</p> + +<p>"That's what comes of being a rich man," they said to +each other, not grumbling, but stating a fact. "He can +employ what men he likes; it is a fine thing to have money."</p> + +<p>Volodia's shop had always been popular, but with the +arrival of the three children it became ten times more so.</p> + +<p>Everyone wished to show sympathy for their misfortunes; +and all those who were sufficiently well off, brought a little +present, and left it with Volodia's wife, with many mysterious +nods and explanations.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Don't tell <i>them</i> anything about it, but just cook it. It's +a chicken we reared ourselves—one of those saved from the +flood."</p> + +<p>Volodia would have liked to give the things back again, +but his wife declared this would be such an affront to the +donors that she really couldn't undertake to do it.</p> + +<p>"It's not for ourselves, Volodia Ivanovitch, but for those +poor innocent children; I can't refuse what's kindly meant. +Many's the <i>rouble</i> Anna Olsheffsky (of blessed memory) has +given to the people here, and why shouldn't they be allowed +to do their part?"</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Elena and Boris, were getting slowly used to +their changed life. It still seemed more like a dream than a +reality; but they began to feel at home in the wooden house, +and Elena had even commenced to learn some needlework +from Var-Vara, and to help Maria in as many ways as that +active old woman would allow of.</p> + +<p>"Don't you touch it, Elena Andreïevna," she would say, +anxiously, "it's not fit you should work like us. Leave it to +Adam, and Var-Vara, and me. We're used to it, and it's +suitable."</p> + +<p>And so Elena had to give herself up to being waited upon +as tenderly by the old servants, as she had been during their +time of happiness at the great house.</p> + +<p>Boris had no time for brooding, for he was working hard +at his lessons with the village Priest; and as to little Daria, +she had quickly adapted herself to the new surroundings.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> + +<p>She played with Tulipan, made snow castles in Volodia's +side yard, and whenever she had the chance, enjoyed a sledge +drive with Alexis, in the forest.</p> + +<p>"If only mamma were here, I should be quite happy," she +said to Elena. "It does seem so dreadful, Elena, to think +of that horrible flood. You don't think it will come again, +do you?"</p> + +<p>Elena's eyes filled with tears, as she answered reassuringly.</p> + +<p>"You'll see mamma some day, Daria, if you're a very +good girl; and meantime, you know, she would like you to +learn your lessons, and be as obedient as possible to Var-Vara."</p> + +<p>"Well, I do try, Elena, but she is so tiresome sometimes. +She won't let me play with the village children! They're +very nice, but she says they're peasants. I'm sure I try to +remember what you teach me, though the things <i>are</i> so +difficult. I'm not so <i>very</i> lazy, Elena!"</p> + +<p>Elena stooped her dark brown head over the little golden one.</p> + +<p>"You're a darling, Daria! I know you do your best, +when you don't forget all about it!"</p> + +<p>Volodia Ivanovitch had devoted his two best rooms to the +children. He had at first wished to give up the whole of his +house to them, with the exception of one bedroom; but Elena +had developed a certain strength of character and resolution +during their troubles, and absolutely refused to listen to this +idea; so that finally the old man was obliged to give way, +and turn his attention to arranging the rooms, in a style<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +of what he considered, surpassing elegance and comfort.</p> + +<p>They were plain and simple, with fresh boarded walls and +pine floors.</p> + +<p>The furniture had all been brought from the great house, +chosen by Volodia with very little idea of its suitability, but +because of something in the colour or form that struck him +as being particularly handsome.</p> + +<p>A large gilt console table, with marble top, and looking +glass, took up nearly one side of Elena's bedroom; and a +glass chandelier hung from the centre of the ceiling—where +it was always interfering with the heads of the unwary. The +bed had faded blue satin hangings; and a large Turkish rug +and two ricketty gilt chairs, completed an effect which Uncle +Volodia and his wife considered to be truly magnificent.</p> + +<p>Boris slept in the room adjoining.</p> + +<p>This was turned into a sitting-room in the daytime, and +furnished in the same luxurious manner. Chairs with enormous +coats-of-arms, a vast Dresden china vase with a gilt +cover to it; and in the corner a gold picture of a Saint with +a little lamp before it, always kept burning night and day by +the careful Var-Vara—Var-Vara in her bright red gold-bordered +gown, and the strange tiara on her head, decorated +with its long ribbons.</p> + +<p>"If ever they wanted the help of the Saints, it's now," +she would say, as she filled the glass bowl with oil, and hung +it up by its chains again. "The wickedness of men has been +too much for them. Aïe! Aïe! It's the Lord's will."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER VI.</h3> + + +<p>Volodia Ivanovitch's house stood close to the village +street, so that as Elena looked from her windows she could +see the long stretch of white road—the snow piled up in +great walls on either side—the two rows of straggling, half-finished +log huts, ending with the ruined Church, and the +new posting-house.</p> + +<p>In the distance, the flat surface of the frozen lake, the dark +green of the pine forest, and the wide stretches of level +country; broken here and there by the tops of the scattered +wooden fences.</p> + +<p>Up the street the sledges ran evenly, the horses jangling +the bells on their great arched collars, the drivers in their +leather fur-lined coats, cracking their whips and shouting.</p> + +<p>Now and then a woman, in a thick pelisse, a bright-coloured +handkerchief on her head, would come by; dragging a load +of wood or carrying a child in her arms.</p> + +<p>The air was stilly cold, with a sparkling clearness; the +sky as blue and brilliant as midsummer.</p> + +<p>Elena felt cheered by the exhilarating brightness. She +was young, and gradually she rose from the state of indifference +into which she had fallen, and began to take her old +interest in all that was going on about her.</p> + +<p>"I want to ask you something, Uncle Volodia," she said +one day, as they sat round the <i>samivar</i>,[C] for she had begged<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +that they might have at least one meal together, in the +sitting-room.</p> + +<p>[C] Tea-urn.</p> + +<p>Maria was rather constrained on these occasions, seeming +oppressed with the feeling that she must sit exactly in the +centre of her chair. She spread a large clean handkerchief +out over her knees, to catch any crumbs that might be +wandering, and fixed her eyes on the children with respectful +solemnity.</p> + +<p>Volodia, on the contrary, always came in smiling genially, +in his old homespun blouse and high boots; and was ready +for a game with Daria, or a romp with Boris, the moment +the tea things had been carried away by his wife.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Elena Andreïevna?" he asked. "Nothing +very serious, I hope?"</p> + +<p>"Not very, Uncle Volodia. It's only that I want to +learn something—I want to feel I can <i>do</i> something when +our money has gone, for I know it won't last very long."</p> + +<p>"Why trouble your head about business, Elena Andreïevna? +You know your things sold for a great deal, and it is all put +away in the wooden honey-box, in the clothes chest. It will +last till you're an old woman!"</p> + +<p>"But I would like to <i>feel</i> I was earning some money, +Uncle Volodia. I think I might learn to make paper flowers. +Don't you think so, dear Uncle Volodia? You know I +began while mamma was with us; the lady in Mourum taught +me. I wish very much to go on with it."</p> + +<p>Uncle Volodia pondered. It might be an amusement for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +the poor girl, and no one need know of the crazy notion of +selling them.</p> + +<p>"If you like, <i>Matoushka</i>. Do just as you like," he said.</p> + +<p>So it was decided that Elena should be driven over to +Mourum on the next market day.</p> + +<p>Volodia had undertaken, in the intervals of shop-keeping, +to teach little Daria how to count; with the elaborate arrangement +of small coloured balls, on a wire frame like a gridiron, +with which he added up his own sums—instead of pencil +and paper.</p> + +<p>They sat down side by side with the utmost gravity. Old +Volodia with the frame in one hand, Daria on a low stool, +her curly golden head bent forward over the balls, as she +moved them up and down, with a pucker on her forehead.</p> + +<p>"Two and one's five, and three's seven, and four's twelve, +and six's——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Daria Andreïevna! You're not thinking about what +you're doing!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, really I am, Uncle Volodia; but those tiresome little +yellow balls keep getting in the way."</p> + +<p>And then the lesson began all over again, until Daria sprang +up with a laugh, and shaking out her black frock, declared +she had a pain in her neck, and must run about a little!</p> + +<p>"What a child it is!" cried Volodia admiringly. "If she +lives to be a hundred, she'll never learn the multiplication +table!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER VII.</h3> + + +<p>A post-sledge was gliding rapidly over the frozen road +towards Viletna; and as it neared the village, a thin worn +man, with white hair, who was sitting in it alone, leant +forward and touched the driver.</p> + +<p>"I want to go to the great house. You remember?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you're going to see Mikhail? He hasn't come to the +great house yet, though. It's all being done up."</p> + +<p>"No, I'm going to Madame Olsheffsky's!"</p> + +<p>"Anna Olsheffsky! Haven't you heard she was drowned +in the flood? Washed away. Just before the children lost +their property to that thief of a cousin!"</p> + +<p>The driver went on adding the details, not noticing that +the gentleman had fallen back, and lay gasping as if for air.</p> + +<p>"You knew Anna Olsheffsky, perhaps?" he said at last, +turning towards the traveller. Then seeing his face, "Holy +Saints! What is the matter? He'll die surely, and no help +to be had!"</p> + +<p>"She was my wife," said the gentleman hoarsely. "You +don't remember me? I am André Olsheffsky."</p> + +<p>"To think that I shouldn't have known you, <i>Barin!</i>" cried +the driver in great excitement, dropping the reins. "Not +that it's much to be wondered at, and you looking a young +man when you left! Welcome home! Welcome home!"</p> + +<p>"Where are the children?" said André Olsheffsky, +brokenly. "Perhaps they're dead, too?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, the children are all well, <i>Barin</i>! They are at +Volodia Ivanovitch's."</p> + +<p>"Drive me there, then," said Mr. Olsheffsky; and the +sledge dashed off with a peal of its bells, and drew up with +a flourish in front of Volodia's doorway.</p> + +<p>"Do look out, Elena!" cried Boris, who was carving a +wooden man with an immense pocket-knife. "Here's a +sledge stopped, and a funny tall gentleman getting out—not +old, but all white!"</p> + +<p>Elena went to the window, but the stranger had disappeared +into the shop.</p> + +<p>They could hear voices talking, now loud, now soft, then +a cry of astonishment from Maria. The door burst open, +and Volodia, his grey hair flying, the tears rolling down his +cheeks, dragged in the white-haired gentleman by the hand.</p> + +<p>"Oh, children! children! this is a happy day. The <i>Barin's</i> +come home. This is your father!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER VIII.</h3> + + +<p>The next morning Elena and Boris awoke with a delightful +feeling of expectation.</p> + +<p>It seemed impossible to realize that their father had really +come back to them, and that he was dearer and kinder than +anything they had imagined!</p> + +<p>"If only mamma were here," sighed Elena, "<i>how</i> happy +we should be!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Perhaps she knows," said Boris soberly. "She always +told us papa was a hero, and I'm sure he looks like one."</p> + +<p>André Olsheffsky felt his wife's loss deeply. The children +were his only comfort, and every moment he could spare +from his business affairs he gave to them.</p> + +<p>With Elena he discussed their position seriously.</p> + +<p>It would be impossible, he said, to prove their claim to +Madame Olsheffsky's estate unless the lost box could be +recovered, but if that were ever found the papers inside +would completely establish their right. "I have sent +notices to all the peasants, describing the box, and offering +a reward. Who knows, Elena? it <i>may</i> be discovered!"</p> + +<p>Time passed on, and though Mr. Olsheffsky made many +expeditions into the town of Mourum, and drove all round +the country, making enquiries of the peasants, he could hear +nothing of the wooden box.</p> + +<p>"It's one of the secrets of the lake," said Volodia. +"That's my opinion; it's lying snugly at the bottom there; +and it's no good looking for it anywhere else."</p> + +<p>But Mr. Olsheffsky continued his enquiries.</p> + +<p>One day, just as Daria and Var-Vara were about to start +for a morning walk—Elena and Boris having gone for a drive +with their father—an old man in a rough sheep-skin coat and +plaited bark shoes came up to the house door, and taking +off his high felt hat respectfully, asked if he could speak to +the <i>Barin</i>.[D]</p> + +<p>[D] Master.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The master has gone out," said Var-Vara, "but I daresay +you can see him in the afternoon. Have you anything +particular to ask him?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing to ask, but something to show," and the old +man blinked his eyes cunningly.</p> + +<p>"Not the wooden box!" screamed Daria. "Oh, let's go +at once! Come, Var-Vara! <i>What</i> a surprise for papa when +he gets back! <i>Is</i> it the wooden box? You might tell me," +cried Daria, fixing her blue eyes on the old <i>mujik</i>'s face pleadingly.</p> + +<p>"It may be, and it mayn't be," replied the old man. "You +may come along with me if you like, Daria Andreïevna. I'll +show you the way to where I live—near the forest, you know. +Of course, I've heard all about the reward," he continued, +"and as I was clearing a bit of my yard this morning, what +should I find but a heap of something hard—pebbles, and +drift, and sticks, and such like. When I came to sorting it +out—for I thought, 'Why waste good wood, when you can +burn it? the good God doesn't like waste'—I struck against +the corner of something hard, and there was a——. Well, +what do you think, Daria Andreïevna?"</p> + +<p>"A box! A box!" cried Daria, seizing one of the old +man's hands, and dancing round him in an ecstasy of delight.</p> + +<p>"Not at all, Daria Andreïevna! The legs of an old chair."</p> + +<p>Daria's face fell. "I don't see why you come to tell papa +you've found an old chair!" she said crossly.</p> + +<p>"Stop a bit, <i>Matoushka</i>. There's more to come. Where +was I?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The chair! You'd just found it," said Daria, pulling at +his hand impatiently.</p> + +<p>"So I had. A chair! Well, it had no back, and as I +pulled it out it felt heavy, very heavy. It wasn't much to +look at—a poor chair I should call it—and I thought, '<i>This</i> +isn't much of a find;' but there inside it was something +sticking as tight as wax!"</p> + +<p>"The box!" cried Daria, "I felt sure of it!" and seizing +Var-Vara by one hand, and the <i>mujik</i> by the other, she +dragged them down the street, the old peasant remonstrating +and grumbling.</p> + +<p>"Not so fast, Daria Andreïevna!" said Var-Vara, gasping +for breath at the sudden rush. "Let Ivan go first; he +knows the way!"</p> + +<p>Daria could scarcely control her impatience during the +walk.</p> + +<p>"Make haste, Var-Vara! we shall never get there," she +kept crying; and old Var-Vara, who was stout, and had on +a heavy fur pelisse, arrived at the hut in a state of breathless +exhaustion.</p> + +<p>"Aïe! Aïe! what a child it is! Show her the box now, +Ivan, or we shall have no peace."</p> + +<p>Ivan went to the corner of his hut, where a large object +stood on the top of the whitewashed stove under a red and +yellow pocket-handkerchief. He carefully uncovered it, and +stepping back a few paces said proudly,</p> + +<p>"What do you think of <i>that</i>, now?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was the box, safe and unhurt, Madame Olsheffsky's +name still on it in scratched white letters.</p> + +<p>Daria was wild with joy, and almost alarmed Ivan with +her excitement. She danced about the room, threw her +arms round his neck, and finally persuaded him to carry +the box to Volodia's house, so that it might be there as a +delightful surprise to her father on his return.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER IX.</h3> + + +<p>The children, Volodia and his wife, Var-Vara, and Adam; +all stood round eagerly as André Olsheffsky superintended +the forcing open of the precious box.</p> + +<p>"It's my belief the papers will be a pulp," whispered +Volodia. "We must be ready to stand by the <i>Barin</i> when +he finds out the disappointment."</p> + +<p>But the papers were not hurt. The box contained another +tin-lined case, in which the parchments had lain securely, and +though damaged in appearance, they were as legible as the +day on which they were first written.</p> + +<p>"Oh, papa, I <i>am</i> so glad!" shouted Boris and Daria; and +Elena silently took her father's hand.</p> + +<p>"I always thought the <i>Barin</i> would have his own again," +cried Volodia triumphantly, forgetting that only a moment +before he had been full of dismal prophecies.</p> + +<p>Adam and Var-Vara wept for joy, and Ivan stood by +smiling complacently. He felt that all this happiness had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +been brought about entirely by his own exertions, and he +already had visions of the manner in which he would employ +the handsome reward.</p> + +<p>"No more troubling about my old age," he thought. "I +shall have as comfortable a life as the best of them."</p> + +<p>That evening Mr. Olsheffsky started for Moscow, carrying +the parchments with him.</p> + +<p>The two months of his absence seemed very long to the +children, though they heard from him constantly; and there +were great rejoicings when he returned with the news that +their affairs had at last been satisfactorily settled. Mikhail +Paulovitch had withdrawn his claim, and the great house +was their own again.</p> + +<p>All the peasants of the neighbourhood came in a body to +congratulate them. Those who could not get into Volodia's +little sitting-room remained standing outside, and looked in +respectfully through the window; while the spokesman read +a long speech he had prepared for the occasion.</p> + +<p>Mr. Olsheffsky made an appropriate reply, and then, +turning to Volodia and the old servants, he thanked them +in a few simple words for their goodness to the children.</p> + +<p>"You might have knocked me flat down with a birch +twig," said Uncle Volodia afterwards, when talking it over +with Adam. "The idea of thanking <i>us</i> for what was nothing +at all but a real pleasure! He's a good man, the <i>Barin</i>!"</p> + +<p>The springtime found the children and their father settled +once more in their old home, with Adam, Var-Vara, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +Alexis; and life flowing on very much as it had always +done, except for the absence of the gentle, motherly, Anna +Olsheffsky.</p> + +<p>Uncle Volodia continued to look after his shop with zeal; +and the two rooms with the gilt furniture, which Mr. +Olsheffsky had insisted on his not removing, became objects +of the greatest pride and joy to him.</p> + +<p>He never allowed anyone but himself to dust them, and +in spare moments he polished the looking-glass with a piece +of leather, kept carefully for the purpose in a cigar box.</p> + +<p>"It's a great pleasure to me," he remarked one day to a +neighbour, "to think that when I leave this house to Boris +Andreïevitch—as I intend to do, after old Maria—it will have +two rooms that are fit for <i>any</i>one of the family to sleep in. +He'll never have to be ashamed of <i>them</i>!"</p> + +<p>On his seventieth birthday, Elena—now grown a tall slim +young lady, with grave brown eyes—persuaded him that it +was really time to take a little rest, and enjoy himself.</p> + +<p>He thereupon sold his stock, and devoted himself to +gardening in the yard at the back of his house; where he +would sit on summer evenings smoking his pipe, in the midst +of giant dahlias and sunflowers.</p> + +<p>Here Daria often came with Boris and Tulipan; and +sitting by Uncle Volodia's side, listened to the well-known +stories she had heard since her babyhood—always ending +up with the same words in a tone of great solemnity—</p> + +<p>"And <i>this</i>, children, is a true story, every word of it!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="The_Angel_and_the_Lilies" id="The_Angel_and_the_Lilies"></a>The Angel and the Lilies.</h2> + +<h4>A Norwegian Story.</h4> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>It was a room at the top of a rough wooden house +in Norway. Though it was only a garret, it was +all very white and clean; and little Erik Svenson +lay in the small bed facing the barred window, through which +the moonbeams streamed till they seemed to turn the walls +into polished silver.</p> + +<p>As Erik tossed about, he heard his mother working in the +room below.</p> + +<p>The <i>thump, thump,</i> of her iron, as she wearily finished the +last of the clothes, that must be sent home to the rich family +at the farmhouse, early next morning.</p> + +<p>"Poor mother! how hard she works," thought Erik, "and +I can't do more than mind Farmer Torvald's boat on the +fiord. If I could only be employed in the town, I might be +able to help her!"</p> + +<p><i>Thump</i>, <i>thump</i>, went the iron. The clock chimed twelve, +and still the poor washerwoman smoothed and folded, though +her heavy eyes almost refused to keep open, and the room +began to feel the chill of the frosty air outside.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Erik sha'n't want for anything while I have two arms to +work for him," she said to herself; and went on until the iron +fell from her tired hand, and she sank back in her chair in a +deep sleep.</p> + +<p>Erik, too, had closed his eyes, and was dreaming happily, +when he was awakened by the brush of something light and +soft, across his pillow.</p> + +<p>Starting up, he saw that the moon was still brilliant, and +in its clearest rays stood a faint white figure, with shadowy +wings outstretched behind it.</p> + +<p>A vapoury garment enveloped it, and the face seemed +young and beautiful.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how wonderful! How wonderful you are!" cried +Erik. "Why have I never seen you before?"</p> + +<p>"I am Vanda, the Spirit of the Moon," said the Angel +gently. "Only to those who are in need of help can I +become visible. Your mother knows me well. Winter +and summer, I have soothed her to sleep; and to-night, +as you looked from the window, your thoughts joined +mine, and I was able to come to you. What will you +ask of me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Vanda, dear Vanda! Show me how to help my +mother; I ask nothing else!" cried Erik.</p> + +<p>He jumped from his bed, and threw himself at the feet of +the shadowy Angel.</p> + +<p>"Do you see that window?" said the Moon-Spirit, pointing +to the small panes that were now covered with a delicate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +tracery of glittering frost-work. "Of what do those patterns +remind you?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 255px;"> +<img src="images/image119.png" width="255" height="400" alt="Erik" title="Erik" /> +</div> + +<p>"Of flowers!" cried Erik. "I have often thought so. +Sometimes I can see grasses, and boughs, and roses, but +<i>always</i> lilies, because they are so white and spotless."</p> + +<p>The Angel smiled softly.</p> + +<p>"To-night I shall shine upon them, and make them live," +she said. "Take what you will find upon the window sill +at sunrise, and sell them in the town. Bring the money +back to your mother at night-time."</p> + +<p>With the last words the Moon-Spirit melted into the white +light, leaving Erik with a feeling of the happiest expectation.</p> + +<p>Long before daybreak he was awake, and his first thought +was of the wonderful ice-flowers. Would the Angel have +kept her promise? What would he see awaiting him?</p> + +<p>As the rays of the sun shot over the fiord, he sprang out +of bed and ran to the window. There lay a bunch of +beautiful white lilies, nestling in a mass of delicate moss-like +green.</p> + +<p>"They <i>are</i> the frost-flowers!" cried Erik, and wild with joy +he rushed into his mother's room, and held the bunch up for +her to look at.</p> + +<p>"Look, look, mother! See what we have had given us. +We shall soon have enough money to rent the little farm +you have always been longing for!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p><hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Erik's visit to the town was very successful. He sold his +flowers directly, although he had some difficulty in answering +all the questions of the townspeople, who wanted to know +where he had grown such delicate things in the middle of +a severe winter. To everyone he replied that it was a +secret; and they were obliged to be contented.</p> + +<p>He returned home in good time for his work upon the +fiord, and if it had not been for the store of silver pieces he +poured into his mother's work-box, he would almost have +imagined that he had only been dreaming.</p> + +<p>That night, as he laid his curly head upon the pillow, his +mind was full of thoughts about the Moon-Angel. He +wondered if she would appear again, and whether she would +once more leave him her gift of the white frost-flowers.</p> + +<p>The moon shone with silvery clearness into the garret; +and as the boy strained his eyes towards the window, the +bright form slowly floated through the bars and stretched a +pale hand towards him.</p> + +<p>"You have done well, to-day, Erik. Look to-morrow, +and to-morrow, and to-morrow, until my light has waned +and faded; and every day you will find the lilies waiting +for you."</p> + +<p>Again Erik felt the soft brush of Vanda's wings, and she +disappeared in the path of the moonbeams.</p> + +<p>The next morning the flowers lay fresh and fair upon the +window-sill, and for days the frost-lilies were always blooming.</p> + +<p>But each time the bunch grew smaller and smaller, until<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +at last, when the moon was nothing more than a thread of +brightness, Erik found one single blossom lying half drooping +on the window-frame.</p> + +<p>"Vanda's gifts have ended," thought Erik, "but she has +been a good true friend to us! We have gained enough +money for my mother to put away her iron, and take the +little farmhouse by the fiord. How happy we shall be +together."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The winter was nearly over, and Erik and his mother had +settled down to their happy life in the farmhouse.</p> + +<p>Frost-flowers, with delicate fantastic groupings, still +bloomed upon the window-panes; but the Moon-Angel was +not there to give them her fairy-like gifts of life and beauty.</p> + +<p>She had gone to console other struggling workers.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="The_Alpen-Echo" id="The_Alpen-Echo"></a>The Alpen-Echo.</h2> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>Long, long years ago, a young girl wandering with +her herd of goats upon the Mettenalp, lost her way +amidst a mountain storm, and fell into a chasm of +the rock, where she lay white and lifeless.</p> + +<p>The terrified goats reached the valley beneath, but the +young girl was never again heard of.</p> + +<p>The spirits of the great mountain had claimed her for an +Alpen-Echo, and every day, for hundreds of years after, she +floated amongst the snow-covered peaks and crags of the +Mettenalp, answering every horn that sounded from the +hunters or cow-herds, with a soft, sweet note, so sad and +distant it was like a soul in pain, and tears came to your +eyes—you knew not why—as you listened to its exquisite +music.</p> + +<p>"Come, follow me! Follow me to my secret haunts," +wailed the Echo. "Give me my soul! Give me my soul!"—but +no one through all the centuries had ever climbed to the +Echo's hiding-place.</p> + +<p>"If <i>only</i> I could make them understand!" sobbed the Echo,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +"my long bondage would cease. The first foot that treads +my prison, frees me, and gives me rest."</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>However, all the world was too busy to listen to the poor +Echo, and she called and cried in vain through the misty ages!</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>A boy, with a long Alpen-horn in his hand, stood by a +châlet far away in the wilds of Switzerland. Every now and +then he blew a few wailing notes upon the horn—notes that +echoed across the valley, up to the snow-covered heights +beyond—and he smiled as the answer floated clearly back +again.</p> + +<p>"The echoes are talking together, to-day," he said to +himself. "They love the bright air and the sunshine;" and +again he blew a long, changing note, that died away softly +into the far distance.</p> + +<p>"<i>Tra-la-la-a-a</i>" came faintly from the opposite mountain—but +to the boy's astonishment the echo did not now cease, +and fade away, as it always had done before. It shifted from +point to point; its elfin tones ringing sweet and sad like the +bugle of a Fairy Huntsman.</p> + +<p>All that day the Echo sounded in the boy's ears, all night +it whispered amongst the mountain tops; and as soon as it +became daylight he sprang up, determined that he would +climb the side of the opposite valley, and find out the reason +of the strange music.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> + +<p>A pale-green light tinged the sky, the mountains looked +dark and forbidding, and from the peaks above came the +soft sighing of the distant Echo.</p> + +<p>"It is like a soul in pain," thought the boy. "I <i>must</i> +find out what it means!" and he began to climb higher and +higher, until the valley lay far beneath him, and his home +looked a little brown speck amidst a sea of fields and pine trees.</p> + +<p>Before him still sounded the Elfin voice, now dying into +a whisper, now ringing clear and distinct, as though close +beside him—but always with the same beseeching sadness: +"Follow me! Follow me to my secret haunts! Give me +my soul! Give me my soul!" And the boy climbed on +until he reached the rocky crag which formed the summit +of the mountain.</p> + +<p>"At last!" he cried, as he stretched out his arms to clasp +the Echo's fairy-like form that floated mistily before him ... +but the Echo had faded from his sight as he approached her; +and her last words were borne faintly towards him as she +vanished into the golden glory of the sunshine—</p> + +<p>"At last! At last! I am at rest at last!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>The boy had learnt the secret of the Alpen-Echo. He had +freed her soul from its long bondage, and a few days afterwards +they found him lying with a smile upon his face on the +topmost peak of the Mettenalp.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="The_Scroll_in_the_Market_Place" id="The_Scroll_in_the_Market_Place"></a>The Scroll in the Market Place.</h2> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>In the pale light of the moon the sleeping town lay +hushed and noiseless. At its foot the river rolled, +spanned by the curves of the old grey stone +bridge, and behind rose the giant hills, clothed with tracts +of pine and birch trees. A high wall surrounded the town, +with towers at intervals, from which gleamed the light of +the watchmen's lanterns.</p> + +<p>All was silent on the earth and in the air, when through +the deep blue of the star-sprinkled sky a little Child-Angel +winged his way from Heaven, and hovering over the steep +red roofs beneath him, folded his wings and dropped softly +into the deserted Market Place. In his hand he held a +Scroll with strange writing upon it, and crossing the Square +over the rough cobblestones, he fixed the paper to the +Fountain, and spreading his white wings, flew up again to +the home from which he came.</p> + +<p>Next day the country people flocking into the Market +Place saw to their astonishment a track of beautiful white +flowers springing up from amongst the cobblestones, and +stretching from one corner of the Square to the Fountain.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> + +<p>They were star-like flowers, with bright-green leaves, and +they grew in patches—"like a child's footsteps," the women +said.</p> + +<p>A little crowd soon gathered round the paper fastened to +the ancient Fountain. On the top of the Scroll was written, +very clearly—"All those who can read the words beneath +shall be rewarded generously," but the lines that followed +were in a strange language, and in such crabbed characters +that they defied every effort to decipher them.</p> + +<p>All day the crowd ebbed and flowed round the Fountain, +while the learned men of the town came with their dictionaries +under their arms and spectacles on nose, and sat on stools, +attempting to make out the crooked letters of the inscription.</p> + +<p>In the end each one decided upon a different language, +and the argument became so warm between them that they +had to be separated by a party of watchmen, and conducted +back again to their own houses.</p> + +<p>Professors from the University on the other side of the +mountains journeyed over the rough roads, and brought +their learning to the old stone Fountain in the Market +Place—but they, too, went away discomfited.</p> + +<p>No one could read the strange writing, and no one could +pull down the paper, for it appeared to be fixed to the stone +by some means that made it impossible to tear it away.</p> + +<p>Time went on, and the snow covered up the Market +Square, threw a white mantle over the steep roofs, and +buried the old gardens in its soft deepness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> + +<p>In one of the houses near the spot where the little Angel +had first touched the earth lived a poor, lonely woman. She +worked all day at some fine kind of needlework, but when, +in the evenings, the sun had set and the twilight began to +fall, she would steal out for a few minutes to breathe the +fresh air. Often, though she was so wearied with her incessant +stitching, she would carry in her hand a flower from +the plants that grew in her latticed window to a neighbour's +sick child. It was a weary climb up a steep flight of stairs +to the attic where the sick child lay, but it was reward enough +to the woman to see the bright smile that lighted up the +little drawn face as she laid the flower on the counterpane.</p> + +<p>All the summer the poor sempstress had been too busy +during the daylight, to afford time even to cross the Square +to study the strange paper on the Fountain. "If learned +men cannot read it, a poor ignorant woman like me could +certainly never do so," she said to the child, and the little +girl looked up at her with tender love in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"You are so good, you could do <i>anything</i>," she whispered, +and clasped the worn hand on which the needle-pricks had +left the marks of many long years of patient sewing. "I +should like to see the paper so much," continued the child, after +a thoughtful pause. "I wish I could walk there, but it is +so long since I walked, and the snow is so deep now," and +she sighed.</p> + +<p>"Some day, if the good God pleases, I will carry you +there," said the workwoman—and the child as she lay<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +patiently on her little bed, dreamt and dreamt of the +mysterious paper that no one could read, until the longing +to see it became uncontrollable, and her friend the sempstress +promised that she would spare an hour the next day from +her work, and if the sun shone she would carry the invalid +across the Market Place to the old stone Fountain.</p> + +<p>The next morning the child's face was bright with anticipation, +as the woman wrapped her in a warm shawl and +carried her fragile weight down the staircase. The cobblestones +hurt the poor sempstress's feet, and she staggered +under the light burden, but she persevered, for the child's +murmurs of delight rang in her ears—</p> + +<p>"How sweetly the sun shines! How white the snow +looks! How beautiful, how <i>beautiful</i> it is to be alive!"</p> + +<p>When they reached the Fountain the sun shone brightly +upon the Angel's Scroll.</p> + +<p>The workwoman seated herself on one of the swept stone +steps, still holding the child in her arms, and they gazed +long and earnestly at the writing above them.</p> + +<p>Gradually a smile of delight spread across both their +faces. "It is quite, <i>quite</i> easy!" they cried together. +"How is it people have been puzzling so long?"—for as +they looked the crabbed letters unrolled before them, +straightened, and arranged themselves in order, and the +Angel's message was read by the poor workwoman and +the sick child.</p> + +<p>"Love God, and live for others," said the Scroll, and a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +soft light seemed to stream from it and shed a glow of +happiness right into the hearts of the two who read it. The +air was warmer, the sun shone more brightly, and just by +the foot of the Fountain, pushing through the snow, sprang +one blue head of palest forget-me-not.</p> + +<p>As the letters on the Scroll became plainer and plainer, +the paper slowly rolled up and shrunk away, until it had +disappeared altogether.</p> + +<p>The sempstress carried back the child up the steep staircase, +laid her tenderly on her bed, and hurried away to her +own attic.</p> + +<p>In her absence strange things had happened. The room +was swept and tidy, the flowers were watered, and the piece +of work she had left half done was lying finished on the broad +window seat. The poor woman looked round her in astonishment. +She went downstairs to enquire if any neighbours +had prepared this surprise for her, but they only stared at +her, and told her "she must have left her wits in the Market +Place," and that "that was what came of leaving your own +duties to look after other people's."</p> + +<p>The sempstress did not listen to their taunts, for a song +of joy was welling up in her heart—a song so sweet and +true, it might have been the echo of that sung by the angels. +Never had life seemed so beautiful to her. The ill looks of +the neighbours appeared to her to be smiles of kindness and +love; their hard speeches sounded soft and altered; the +steep stairs to her room were not so steep, her attic not so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +bare and desolate. Life was no longer lonely, for the song +in her heart brought her all the happiness she had ever +hoped for.</p> + +<p>The sick child, too, found the same wonderful change in +all that surrounded her. The aunt with whom she lived, +who had always been so careless and unloving, now seemed +to the child to be kind and gentle. Her aching back was +less painful, her thoughts as she lay on her bed were bright +and happy. The Angel's message had brought sunshine to +the lives of the only two who could read and understand it.</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>In time the sick child went to live with the sempstress, +and their love for each other grew and strengthened, and +overflowed in a thousand little acts of kindness to all who +came near them. Their room was filled with brightness. +The birds flew to perch on the window-sill and sing in the +early mornings; flowers bloomed in the cracks of the old +stonework; the sempstress sang as she worked, and whenever +she left her sewing to carry the child out into the +Market Place to breathe the fresh air she would find her +work finished when she returned.</p> + +<p>"It was a happy day that we read the message in the +Market Place," she said to the sick child; "indeed we +have been rewarded generously."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="A_Scrap_of_Etruscan_Pottery" id="A_Scrap_of_Etruscan_Pottery"></a>A Scrap of Etruscan Pottery.</h2> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>Deep down in a buried Etruscan tomb there lay a +little three-cornered piece of pottery.</p> + +<p>It had some letters on it and a beautiful man's +head, and had belonged to a King some three thousand +years ago.</p> + +<p>Its only companions were a family of moles; for everything +else had been taken out of the tomb so long ago that no one +remembered anything about it.</p> + +<p>"What a dull life mine is," groaned the piece of pottery. +"No amusement, and no society! It's enough to make one +smash oneself to atoms!"</p> + +<p>"Dull, but safe," replied the Mole, who never took the +least notice of the three-cornered Chip's insults. "And then, +remember the dignity. You have the whole tomb to yourself."</p> + +<p>"Except for you," said the Chip ungraciously.</p> + +<p>"Well, we must live somewhere," said the Mole, quite +unmoved, "and I'm sure we don't interfere. I always bring +up my children to treat you with the greatest respect, in +spite of your being cr-r—br-r—. I <i>should</i> say, not quite so +large as you used to be."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If only you had belonged to a King," sighed the Chip, +"I might have had someone of my own class to talk to."</p> + +<p>"I don't wish to belong to a King," said the Mole. +"There's nothing I should dislike more. I am for a Liberal +Government, and no farming."</p> + +<p>"What vulgarity!" cried the Chip.</p> + +<p>"It's a blessing it's dark, and he can't see the children +laughing," thought the Mole-mother, "or I don't know what +would happen."</p> + +<p>"Everything that belonged to a King should be treated +with Royal respect," continued the Chip.</p> + +<p>"As to that, I really haven't time for it," replied the +Mole; "what with putting the children to bed, and getting +them up again, and all my work in the passages, I can't +devote myself to Court life."</p> + +<p>"If you like, you can represent the people," said the +Chip. "<i>I</i> don't mind, only then I can't talk to you."</p> + +<p>"You can read out Royal Decrees, and make laws," said +the Mole; and to herself she added, "It won't disturb me. +I shan't take any notice of them."</p> + +<p>"Who's to be nobles?" said the Chip, crossly. "I'd +rather not do the thing at all, if it can't be done properly!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I can't be people and nobles too, that's quite +certain," remarked the Mole-mother, as she tidied up her +house. "Besides, the children are too young—they wouldn't +understand."</p> + +<p>"What's it like up above?" enquired the Chip languidly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +after a short pause, for it was almost better to speak to the +Mole, than to nobody. "People still walk on two legs?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course," answered the Mole, "there's never any +difference in people, that <i>I</i> can see. They're always exactly +alike, except in tempers."</p> + +<p>The Chip was sitting upon a little stone-heap against one +of the pillars. He fondly imagined it was a Throne; and +the Mole-mother, with the utmost good nature, had never +undeceived him.</p> + +<p>As the last words were spoken, a lump of earth fell from +the roof, flattening out the stone-heap, and the Chip only +escaped destruction by rolling on one side, where he lay +shaking with fright and calling to the Mole-mother to help +him. But the Mole had retired with her family to a place +of safety. She knew what was happening. The tomb was +being opened by a party of antiquarians, and in a few more +minutes the blue sky shone into the darkness, and the three-cornered +piece of pottery was lying wrapped in paper in the +pocket of one of the explorers.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>When the Chip recovered himself, he found he was +reclining on the velvet floor of a large glass case full of +Etruscan vases. Here was the society he had been pining +for all his life!</p> + +<p>"What are Moles compared to this?" he said to him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>self, +and quivered with joy at the thought of the pleasures +before him.</p> + +<p>"How did that broken thing come into our Division?" +enquired a Red Dish with two handles.</p> + +<p>"I can't imagine! The Director put him in just now," +replied a Black Jug. "It's not what we're accustomed to. +Everything in here is perfect."</p> + +<p>The Chip lay for a moment, dumb with horror and +astonishment.</p> + +<p>"I belonged to a King," he gasped at last. "You can +look at the name written on me."</p> + +<p>"You may have names written all over you, for all I care," +said the Dish. "You're a Chip, and no King can make you +anything else"—and she turned away haughtily.</p> + +<p>"And to think that for all those years the Mole-mother +was never once rude to me!" thought the Chip. "She was +a person of <i>real</i> refinement. Whatever shall I do if I have +to be shut up with these ill-bred people?" he groaned +miserably.</p> + +<p>"How the woodwork does creak!" said the Director as +he came up to the glass case, with a young lady to whom he +was showing the treasures of the Museum.</p> + +<p>"That's the most recent discovery," he continued smiling +and pointing to the three-cornered piece of pottery—"All +I found in my last digging."</p> + +<p>"It has a beautiful head on it," said the young lady, "I +should be quite satisfied if I could ever find anything so pretty."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Will you have it?" said the Director of the Museum, +who after all was only a young man; looking at the young +lady earnestly.</p> + +<p>She took the despised Chip in her little hand.</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much. It will be a great treasure," she +said—and looking up at her face, the three-cornered piece of +pottery knew that a happy life was in store for him.</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>"In spite of the rudeness of my own people, I am in the +Museum after all," remarked the Chip, as some months +afterwards he hung on a bracket on the wall of the young +lady's sitting room. "In what a superior position, too! +<i>They</i> only belong to the Director, but <i>I</i> belong to the +Director's wife!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="The_Goats_on_the_Glacier" id="The_Goats_on_the_Glacier"></a>The Goats on the Glacier.</h2> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3> + + +<p>The Heif Goats lived close to the Heifen Glacier, +one of the largest in Switzerland. In fact, their +Châlet, or the cavern which they christened by +that name, overhung the steepest precipice, and was inaccessible +to anyone except its proprietors.</p> + +<p>"It is such a comfort to be secluded in these disturbed +times," the Goat-mother often remarked to her husband. +"If I lived near a high road I should never know a <i>moment's</i> +happiness. The children are so giddy, they would be gambolling +about round the very wheels of the char-à-bancs, +turning head over heels for halfpence, before I could cry +Goats-i-tivy!"</p> + +<p>The whole glacier valley swarmed with the kin of the +Goat family. There were the bond-slaves who worked for +the peasants, and the free Goats who possessed their own +caves, cultivated their ground industriously, and lived greatly +on the sandwich papers left by tourists in the summer-time.</p> + +<p>"Such a treat, especially the light yellow sort with printing, +that always has crumbs in it," said the Goat-mother. "It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +makes a delicious meal. We generally have it on fête +days."</p> + +<p>The family of the Heif Goats consisted of the Heif-father, +his wife, and their four children, Heinrich, Lizbet, Pyto, and +Lénora.</p> + +<p>The young Goats had been brought up with some severity +by their parents, who had old-fashioned notions with regard +to discipline; and three things had been especially enjoined +upon them from their infancy. Always to speak the truth, +never to mess their clean pinafores, and last, but not least, +<i>never</i> to play with the Chamois!</p> + +<p>"They are too wild and frivolous," the Goat-mother used +to say, with a nod of her frilled cap. "Such very long +springs are in exceedingly bad taste. The Chamois have +<i>no</i> repose of manner."</p> + +<p>Under this system the children grew up very well-behaved. +The daughters worked in the house, the sons helped their +father; and in the evening they all descended to the Glacier +to collect any remnants of food left by the endless stream of +visitors, who all through the summer toiled up to the Eismeer, +and down again to the Inn on the other side of the valley.</p> + +<p>These travellers were a perpetual source of interest and +amusement to the Goat family.</p> + +<p>They could never quite make out what they were doing, +but the Heif-mother finally decided that their journeys must +be some religious or national observance.</p> + +<p>"People would never struggle about on the ice like that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>—tied +to each other with ropes, too!—unless it was a painful +duty," she said. "I consider it very praiseworthy."</p> + +<p>Sometimes the young Goats in their invisible eyrie, would +go off into shouts of merriment as a group of excursionists +crawled slowly into sight; the ladies in their short skirts +and large flapping hats, alpenstock in hand, clinging +desperately to the guides as they ascended every slippery +ice-peak.</p> + +<p>But on these occasions the Goat-mother always reproved +them.</p> + +<p>"Remember," she would say severely, "that because +people are ridiculous you shouldn't be unmannerly. They +can't help their appearance, poor things! They may think +themselves quite as good as we are."</p> + +<p>"Well, at all events, we don't look like <i>that</i>," said Lizbet. +"I am sure you would never allow it."</p> + +<p>The principal news from the outer world was brought to +the Heif family by a Stein-bok pedlar, who wandered about +the country with his wares, and was so popular that he was +a friend of all classes, and supplied even the Chamois with +their groceries and tobacco.</p> + +<p>He generally arrived at the Châlet on the first of every +month, and spread out his wares on the grass plot in front +of the cave, while the Goat-mother and her children walked +up and down, and bargained good-humouredly for anything +they had taken a fancy to.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3> + + +<p>It was a bright sunny day, and the Goat-mother sat with +her daughters at the door of the cavern. The Goat-father +had gone off by himself to get some provisions at a village on +the opposite side of the Glacier, and Heinrich and Pyto were +digging in the fields at the back of the Châlet; when the +Stein-bok, in his well-known brown cloth coat, appeared +panting up the narrow pathway.</p> + +<p>Throwing himself down on a stone bench, he tossed his +Tyrolese hat on to the ground, and fanned himself with his +handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Herr Stein-bok. You seem exhausted," +said the Goat-mother.</p> + +<p>"I am, ma'am, and well I may be. Five miles with +twenty pounds on my back is no joke, I can assure you."</p> + +<p>"Shall I bring you a glass of lager-beer?" enquired the +Heif-mother.</p> + +<p>"It would be acceptable, ma'am, and then I will tell you my +news. You've heard nothing of the Goat-father, have you?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," said the Goat-mother. "I am beginning to feel +very nervous. I never knew him to stay away two days before."</p> + +<p>The Stein-bok looked round darkly.</p> + +<p>"I have something to tell you," he whispered. "Prepare +for bad news. The Goat-father has been captured."</p> + +<p>The Heif-mother gave a wild shriek, and fell back upon +Lizbet, who was peeling potatoes in the doorway.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> + +<p>"When—where—how—who—what?" she cried frantically. +"Tell me at once, or I shall faint away."</p> + +<p>"Be calm, ma'am," said the Stein-bok soothingly. "I +heard it from the Chamois, who have a habit of bounding +about everywhere, as you know. Your dear husband reached +the middle of the Glacier in safety, when—being hampered +by a satchel and a green cotton umbrella—he fell in attempting +to jump an ice-pinnacle, and sprained his foot so severely +that he was unable to move. Though he bleated loudly for +help, no one came except some huntsmen who were in search +of Chamois. They picked him up, and dragged him to the +Inn on the other side of the valley, where he was locked up +securely in a shed, and there he is at the present moment."</p> + +<p>"My brave Heif in prison! He will never, never survive +it!" cried the Goat-mother, shedding tears in profusion.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes he will, ma'am," replied the Stein-bok, "they're +not going to kill him, their idea is to take him down to the +village."</p> + +<p>"<i>That</i> they shall never do!" cried the Heif-mother, starting +up, "not if I go myself to rescue him! Go, Lizbet, and call +your brothers. We must consult together immediately."</p> + +<p>Lizbet darted off, and the Stein-bok continued.</p> + +<p>"I have still something else I must let you know, ma'am. +As our great poet observes—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<span class="i0">'Whenever green food fades away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some dire misfortune comes the self-same day.'<br /></span> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p> + +<p>In plain words, troubles never come singly. I discovered +while having a friendly game of dominoes with +the Head Chamois, that they intend to seize +upon your house next Tuesday, in the +absence of the Heif-father."</p> + +<p>"And to-day is Friday!" +shrieked the Goat-mother. +"Oh! +this is hard +indeed!"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 307px;"> +<img src="images/image143.png" width="307" height="400" alt="The Goats" title="The Goats" /> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Compose yourself, ma'am, and listen to my advice," +said the Pedlar. "You lock up your house, or leave me in +charge with Lizbet and Lénora, and you and the two other +children start off at once to ask the help of the Goat-king. +He is a mild, humane creature, and will very likely order +out a detachment of the 'Free-will' goats to help to defend +your household."</p> + +<p>"That is the only thing to do," said the Goat-mother +mournfully. "I certainly know the way, for of course I +have always been to the yearly Goat Assembly, but I always +started three days before the meeting, and went down the +back of the mountain, over the slopes. I don't know how +I'm to manage the short cut."</p> + +<p>"Oh, easy enough, ma'am," replied the Stein-bok; "you'll +get on very well. Don't go in goloshes, though, for they +will be sure to catch on the nails. I wouldn't wear my +waterproof mantle either—too large for a walking tour. +Put on a shawl, and tie it round you."</p> + +<p>By this time Heinrich and Pyto had hastily dressed +themselves in out-door costume, and the Goat-mother was +rushing about her house, collecting an extraordinary number +of things, which the Stein-bok had some difficulty in +persuading her not to take with her.</p> + +<p>"<i>Not</i> sugar nippers, ma'am, I <i>beg</i>; or your large work-box, +or the mincing machine! Quite useless on a long journey; +and your best cap you won't want, I assure you."</p> + +<p>"I thought I might perhaps wait a moment in the ante<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>-room +and put it on before entering the presence of Royalty," +bleated the Goat-mother. "But no doubt you know best."</p> + +<p>The luggage was at last reduced to a small leather handbag; +and the Goat-mother, after solemnly bestowing her +blessing on Lizbet and Lénora, and the door-key on the +Stein-bok, set off down the garden path with her children, +upon their adventures.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3> + + +<p>Meanwhile, the Goat-father was languishing in a dark +shed attached to the Inn on the other side of the Glacier. +His bleats had failed to attract any attention. In fact the +only person who had heard him at all, had been an old Goat-slave, +who while browsing on the hillside with a bell round +his neck, had been attracted by the cries, and creeping up to +the shed, peeped through a crack to see what could be the +matter.</p> + +<p>"Is there anyone near?" enquired the Goat-father in a +whisper.</p> + +<p>"No. There's a party in the Inn, but they are too busy +eating to take any notice of us. I am just loitering here, in +case there should be any pieces of sandwich paper flying +about."</p> + +<p>"Is there any chance of my making my escape?" enquired +the Heif-father. "Are they very watchful people?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Excessively so," replied the old Slave. "I've never +been able to get away for the last ten years."</p> + +<p>The Goat-father groaned. "Then it wouldn't be possible +for you to take a message to my family?"</p> + +<p>"Quite impossible, my dear friend, I assure you. Can't +you find any crack in the shed where you could break +through?"</p> + +<p>"There's <i>nothing</i>," cried the Goat-father. "I've searched +round and round, and the door is as strong and tight as a prison."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll go off and see if I can find a messenger," said +the old Slave good-naturedly. "Perhaps the old fox would +manage it."</p> + +<p>"A fox! Oh, I don't think <i>that</i> would do," said the Heif-father. +"It mightn't be safe for my family."</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>he's</i> all right," said the Slave. "He's been in captivity +so long, it's taken all the spirit out of him. He might +live in a farmyard. He's a good-natured creature, too, and +I daresay he'll go to oblige me."</p> + +<p>The Goat-father pulled a band and buckle off his necktie, +and poked it under the door.</p> + +<p>"Not to eat!" he whispered warningly, "but for the fox +to take with him, that my wife may know the message comes +from me; and be quick about it, my good friend, for I really +am positively starving!"</p> + +<p>"All right," said the old Goat, "I'll send the fox off, and +come back in a few minutes to bring you some stale cabbage +leaves."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> + +<p>"A friend in need, is a friend indeed!" murmured the +Goat-father; and went to sleep that night with more hope +than he had felt since the moment of his capture.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3> + + +<p>"Come along, mother," cried Heinrich, grasping the Heif-mother's +hand as they left the garden before their Châlet, +and commenced the dangerous descent of the mountain.</p> + +<p>Far below them they could see the great stretch of the +dazzlingly white Glacier, with its rents and fissures shining +greenly in the sunshine. On either side rose bare crags +topped with grass, and above all, the snowy summits of +the mountains.</p> + +<p>The first part of the journey led along a narrow pathway, +which the Goat-mother managed very successfully, but when +they came to the precipice on which rough iron spikes had +been driven at long intervals to assist the climber, her heart +failed her, and in spite of her desire to hurry, she entangled +her shawl and dress so constantly on the nails, that her +children began to fear she would never reach the level of +the Glacier.</p> + +<p>At last, however, the little party succeeded in making their +way across the Eismeer, and arrived without further mishap +at the river leading to the Goat-King's Palace.</p> + +<p>This river flowed on the centre of the Glacier, between<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> +steep banks of transparent ice, every now and again disappearing +into some vast cavern, where it swept with a +hollow echoing under the ice-field.</p> + +<p>"Follow me, mother," said Heinrich. "I see the +entrance to the Palace just in front of us."</p> + +<p>The Goat-mother gathered up her skirts, and assisted by +Pyto, began to scramble down the bank to the side of the +streamlet.</p> + +<p>"Where is the boat kept?" she enquired.</p> + +<p>"In a snowdrift close to the entrance," replied Heinrich. +"Don't jump about near the crevasses, Pyto, and I'll go and +fetch it."</p> + +<p>The boat was soon dragged from its hiding place, and +Heinrich paddled it to the spot where the Goat-mother was +resting on a snow-bank.</p> + +<p>She embarked with some nervousness, clutching desperately +at her handbag. They pushed off, and were immediately +carried by the current through the little round opening of +the cave into the pale green glistening depths of the +mysterious world beyond.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER V.</h3> + + +<p>There was no need for the Heif family to row. They were +swept along past the ice walls, and in a few minutes reached +the Goat-King's landing-place. A small inlet with a flat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +shore, on which were arranged two camp stools and a piece +of red carpet.</p> + +<p>"Here we are at last, dear children," said the Goat-mother. +"What a relief it is, to be sure! Is my bonnet +straight, Pyto? and do pull your blouse down. Your hair is +all standing on end, Heinrich! How I wish the Stein-bok +had allowed me to bring a pocket-comb!"</p> + +<p>The Court Porter, seated in a bee-hive chair, came forward +as soon as he saw them, to ask their business.</p> + +<p>"The Goat-King is at home to-day till five o'clock," he +said. "If you will step this way, I will introduce you +immediately."</p> + +<p>The Goat-mother trembling in every limb—for she had +never had a private interview with Royalty before—clutched +a child in each hand and followed the Porter.</p> + +<p>They passed down two passages, and finally reached a +large ice-grotto, with a row of windows opening on to a wide +crevasse.</p> + +<p>The room was filled with a flickering green light that yet +rendered everything distinctly visible.</p> + +<p>On a carved maple chair on the top of a dais sat the +Goat-King—a snow-white Goat with mauve eyes and beard; +completely surrounded with cuckoo clocks, and festoons of +yellow wood table-napkin rings, and paper-cutters. The +walls seemed to be covered with them, and the pendulums +of the clocks were swinging in every direction.</p> + +<p>"The King thinks it right to patronize native art," said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +the Goat-Queen, who with three of the Princesses had come +forward graciously to welcome the visitors.</p> + +<p>"I find the striking rather trying at times, especially as +they don't all do it at once, and sometimes one cuckoo +hasn't finished <i>ten</i> before the others are at <i>twelve</i> again."</p> + +<p>"I wish all the works would go wrong!" muttered one +of the Princesses crossly. "An ice-cavern full of cuckoo +clocks is a poor fate for one of the Royal Family!"</p> + +<p>"We <i>must</i> encourage industries," said the Queen. "It +is a duty of our position. I should rather the industries +were noiseless, but we can't choose."</p> + +<p>"Bead necklaces and Venetian glass would have been +more suitable," said the Princess, who had been very well +educated, "or even brass-work and embroidered table-cloths. +We might have draped the cavern with <i>them</i>."</p> + +<p>At this moment there was a violent whirring amongst the +clocks; doors flew open in all directions, and cuckoos of +every size and description darted out, shook themselves +violently, and the air was filled with such a deafening noise +that the Goat-mother threw her apron over her head, and +the Goat-children buried their ears in her skirts, and clung +round her in terror.</p> + +<p>"Merely four o'clock; nothing to make such a fuss +about," said the Goat-King. "And now, when we can +hear ourselves speak, you shall tell me what you have +come for."</p> + +<p>As the voice of the last cuckoo died away in a series of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +jerks, the Goat-mother advanced, and threw herself on her +knees before the Royal Family, first spreading out her +homespun apron to keep the cold off.</p> + +<p>The King listened to her tale with interest, and his mauve +eyes sparkled.</p> + +<p>"If this is true," he cried fiercely, "the Chamois shall be +crushed! My official pen, Princess; and a large sheet of +note paper!"</p> + +<p>"Rest yourself, petitioner, you must be tired," said the +Queen, and pointed to a row of carved and inlaid Tyrolese +chairs that stood against the wall.</p> + +<p>The Goat-mother and her children seated themselves +gratefully, and as they did so, a burst of music floated upon +the air, several tunes struggling together for the mastery.</p> + +<p>"Yes; it's very unpleasant, isn't it?" said the Goat-Queen, +seeing the expression of surprise and uneasiness that +showed itself on the visitors' faces. "We're obliged to +have all the chairs made like that, to encourage the trade in +musical boxes. I get very tired of it, I assure you, and I often +stand up all day, just for the sake of peace and quietness. +I really <i>dread</i> sitting down!"</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the Goat-King was busily writing, covering his +white paws with ink in the process; and the Queen, in a very +loud voice to make herself heard, was conversing with the +Goat-mother about her household affairs.</p> + +<p>"Supplies are most difficult to procure in this secluded +spot," she said mournfully. "Would you believe me, that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +last week we dined <i>every</i> day off boiled Geneva newspapers +and cabbage? So monotonous, and the King gets quite +angry!"</p> + +<p>"I wish we could live on boiled cuckoos!" cried the eldest +Princess, who with her sisters was seated on a bench by the +window, spinning; the pale green light of the Glacier shining +upon their white dresses, and the little brown spinning-wheels +that whirred so rapidly before them.</p> + +<p>"Petitioner, the order is ready," said the King at this +moment, waving a large envelope. "Go straight home, +and send this paper round to all the Goats of the neighbourhood. +It is an order to the 'Free-will' Goats, to arm, +and assemble at your house for the defence of your family, +and the rescue of the Heif-father."</p> + +<p>The Goat-mother curtsied to the ground, kissed the Queen's +hand, and retired with Heinrich and Pyto through the +passages to the landing place.</p> + +<p>At the last moment one of the Princesses came running +after the Goat-mother, to press a cuckoo clock upon her, as +a parting present from the Queen.</p> + +<p>The clock was large, and they had some difficulty in getting +it into the boat, but the Goat-mother did not dare to refuse it.</p> + +<p>With the Porter's help they got off at last, and started +upon the return voyage, Heinrich and Pyto rowing their +hardest; for the current swept through the ice-caves with +such force that the Goat-mother had some difficulty in +steering.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + +<p>As they came out into the daylight, they saw that +the sun was almost setting, and a faint pink light tinged the +snow-fields, and the tops of the distant mountains.</p> + +<p>"We must hurry, or we shan't be back by nightfall!" +said the Goat-mother nervously; and they landed on an ice-block, +covered up the boat again in its hiding place, and set +off towards home, across the Glacier.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER VI.</h3> + + +<p>The weary travellers almost sank with fatigue as they +stumbled over the rough ice.</p> + +<p>In addition to the handbag, they now had the cuckoo +clock, and though Heinrich had insisted on carrying it +strapped on his back like a knapsack, his mother could see +that he became more and more exhausted, and at last +she determined on taking it from him and carrying it +herself.</p> + +<p>The difficulty was heightened by the fact that the clock +continued to tick, and the cuckoo to bound out of the door +at unexpected moments, startling the Goat-mother so, that +she almost dropped it.</p> + +<p>"It's the shaking that puts its works out," said Heinrich. +"Hold on tight, mother, and we shall get it home safely +at last!"</p> + +<p>"I wish it was at the bottom of the Glacier!" groaned the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +Goat-mother, staggering along; her bonnet nearly falling off, +her shawl trailing on the snow behind her.</p> + +<p>"Be careful, Pyto! Careless Goat!" she cried. "Test +the snow-bridges carefully with your alpenstock before you +venture on them!"</p> + +<p>But Pyto, who was young and giddy, went gamboling on; +until suddenly, without even time for a bleat of terror, he +fell crashing through the rotten ice, and disappeared from +view into one of the largest crevasses.</p> + +<p>"Goats-i-tivy!" cried the Goat-mother. "He's gone! +Oh, my darling child, where are you?"</p> + +<p>The cuckoo clock was thrown aside, and she ran to the +edge of the crack and peered down frantically.</p> + +<p>"All right, mother," said a voice, sounding very faint and +hollow, "I've stuck in a hole. Let me down something, and +perhaps I can scramble out again."</p> + +<p>"What have we got to let down?" said the Goat-mother. +"Not a ball of string amongst us! Oh, if ever we go on a +journey again, I'll never, <i>never</i> listen to the Stein-bok."</p> + +<p>"Well, mother, we must make the best of what we have," +cried Heinrich. "Take your shawl off and tear it into +strips. We <i>may</i> be able to make a rope long enough to +reach him—anyhow we'll try!"</p> + +<p>The Goat-mother consented eagerly, though her shawl was +one she was particularly fond of. She snatched it off, and taking +out her scissors, she soon cut it into pieces, which Heinrich +knotted one to the other, and lowered into the crevasse.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Can you reach it?" he cried, putting his head as far over +the edge as possible, and peering into the green depths.</p> + +<p>The Goat-mother leant over, too; but in stooping her +head her bonnet became loosened, and slid with a loud +<i>swish</i> down the ice, darting from side to side until it +disappeared from sight in the darkness.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what misfortunes! My child, my shawl, and my +bonnet, <i>all</i> gone together!" she cried, wringing her hands. +"Take hold of the rope, my Pyto, and let us at all events +rescue <i>you</i>!"</p> + +<p>"All right, mother," cried the distant voice. "Don't drag +me up till I call out '<i>Pull</i>.'"</p> + +<p>In a few minutes the Goat-mother and Heinrich, listening +intently, heard the welcome shout, and pulling both together +they landed Pyto—very much bruised and shaken, but not +otherwise hurt—upon the Glacier beside them.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a warning!" cried the Goat-mother, and after +embracing Pyto warmly, she turned to look for the cuckoo +clock. But it had tobogganed down a steep bank into an +ice stream close by, and was floating away in the distance, +<i>cuckooing</i> at intervals as it danced up and down upon the +water.</p> + +<p>Two travellers who had just reached the opposite bank, +paused in astonishment to listen.</p> + +<p>"You see," said one, "this proves what I have always +told you. Nothing is impossible to Nature. You may even +hear cuckoos on a Glacier!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER VII.</h3> + + +<p>The Goat-mother arrived at home in a pitiable state of +cold and exhaustion, but she was much cheered by finding +the house in good order, and a warm supper awaiting her, +prepared by the hands of the careful Stein-bok.</p> + +<p>Lizbet and Lénora immediately started off with the Royal +Order; which was sealed with a large crown of red sealing +wax fastening down a wisp of mauve hair.</p> + +<p>The next morning all the Goats of the neighbourhood +collected in a secret cavern, where they held a patriotic +meeting, and discussed their plans for the rescue and protection +of the Heif-father.</p> + +<p>Six of the strongest and most daring spirits were to start +that afternoon for the Inn on the other side of the Glacier, +while the rest of the Free-will corps would take it in turns +to remain in ambush in the Heif-goat's garden, in case the +Chamois should attempt their raid before the day they had +appointed.</p> + +<p>They all agreed that the corps should be armed to the +teeth, and there was such a demand for sandpaper that the +store in the Stein-bok's pack was soon exhausted.</p> + +<p>"A rusty sword is all the deadlier, when it once gets in," +said the Goat-Lieutenant. "I shan't trouble myself about +petty details."</p> + +<p>The Heif-father rescue party started to cross the Glacier<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +as soon as it became twilight—for they did not wish to +attract attention.</p> + +<p>The Lieutenant carried a blunderbuss, but the five privates +were more lightly armed with a collection of rapiers, carving +knives, daggers, spears, and sword-sticks.</p> + +<p>Their uniforms were varied, but each wore a mauve badge +on his hat, with the motto—"Goats and justice."</p> + +<p>After half-an-hour's steady walking they reached the +opposite mountain, and climbing the ladders that led to +the Inn, they skirted the Châlet carefully, hiding behind +the loose rocks and bushes until they were well in the +shadow of the outbuildings.</p> + +<p>"Where are you, Herr Heif?" bleated the Lieutenant in +a low tone. "We are friends. You needn't be alarmed."</p> + +<p>"In here," answered a cautious voice from one of the +larger sheds. "You can't get in, though—there's no hope +of breaking the door open. Iron staples and bars, and the +strongest hinges. How many of you are there?"</p> + +<p>"Six," replied the Lieutenant. "Free-will Goats, armed +to the teeth!"</p> + +<p>"You might look at the place and see if you can find a +crack anywhere," whispered the Goat-father.</p> + +<p>The Lieutenant and his followers walked slowly round +the house, examining it at every point; but it was all built +of strong tree trunks tanned brown by the sunshine. +Suddenly his eye lighted upon a small window. It was +very high up and quite out of reach of anyone within, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> +the Lieutenant thought that by standing on something he +might be able to raise himself sufficiently to reach it, and +cut away the glass.</p> + +<p>"Is there anything inside that <i>you</i> could stand upon?" +he enquired.</p> + +<p>There was silence, and a sound of scuffling; then the +voice of the Heif-goat: "I've been examining things, and +there are two barrels. I think I could put one on the top +of the other. They <i>might</i> reach to the window, but it has +two great wooden bars, I couldn't break through."</p> + +<p>"Leave that to us," said the Lieutenant, and he turned +to his followers.</p> + +<p>"Two of you get on each other's shoulders, and then +<i>I</i> will be assisted up. The other three mount in the same +way by my side," he said quickly. "We who are at the +top will cut through the window frame with our knives, +collect the glass, and drag out the Goat-father in no +time."</p> + +<p>This plan was carried out, and in spite of the unsteady +position of the topmost Goats, and the uncomfortable shaking +of the lower ones, the wooden bars were at length sawn +through, and the glass carefully gathered together by the +Lieutenant in his felt hat.</p> + +<p>"Steady!" cried the Lieutenant, "I'm coming down in a +minute, and you're beginning to shake about so, I can hardly +keep my balance. Hi! Do you hear me? Steady, there!"</p> + +<p>"I can't stand this a moment longer—my legs are giving<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> +way beneath me!" bleated the lower Goat. "I know I +shall double up!"</p> + +<p>As he spoke his feet slipped from under him, and he fell +full length upon the hillside, carrying the others with him; +and there they all lay in a confused heap, scarcely able to +realize what had happened to them.</p> + +<p>Fortunately, however, no one was seriously hurt. They +picked themselves up and went to work again with renewed +vigour.</p> + +<p>"Climb up now, Herr Heif!" cried the Lieutenant. "Put +your head out, and gradually lower yourself. We'll stand +below and catch you."</p> + +<p>"I'm a little afraid, for I know I should fall heavy!" said +the Goat-father, in a quavering voice; but he did as he was +told, and shutting his eyes firmly, he slipped from the +window-sill and fell with a heavy <i>flop</i> into the arms waiting +to receive him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER VIII.</h3> + + +<p>The Goat-mother had lit a comfortable fire in the Heif +Châlet, and the Goat-father's slippers were warming against +the stove; when a sound of approaching voices and footsteps +made her start up in excited expectation.</p> + +<p>The voices came nearer and nearer. Now she could distinguish +the National Goat Song, and in another moment<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> +the door flew open, and Herr Heif rushed in accompanied +by his rescuers.</p> + +<p>The children screamed, the Goat-mother wept tears of +joy; and after a general rejoicing, the whole party sat down +to a comfortable meal, during which the Lieutenant's health +was drunk by the Goat-family amidst loud cheering.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry we can't invite the whole <i>corps</i>," said the +Goat-mother. "It's very cold for them outside, but the +fact is I haven't sufficient crockery. As it is, I am forced +to make use of oyster shells and the flower pot, though it's +very much against my principles."</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said the Goat-father, "there's someone knocking!"</p> + +<p>There was indeed a hurried rapping at the door, and one +of the Watch-Goats put in his head to say that the band of +Chamois were seen advancing towards the Châlet.</p> + +<p>The tallow candle was immediately put out, the Lieutenant +and his detachment seized their weapons, and concealed +themselves behind the door, and the Goat-mother and her +children were shut up in an inner room, where they waited +in fear and trembling.</p> + +<p>On came the Chamois with noiseless leaps, bounding into +the garden, and approaching the front door with the utmost +caution. Everything appeared to be turning out according +to their expectations, and they already saw themselves in +imagination seated in the Heif-house, revelling in the +contents of the Goat-mother's store cupboard.</p> + +<p>Their long green coats fluttered in the air, the large<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +bunches of edelweiss in their hats, glistened in the moonlight.</p> + +<p>But a low, clear whistle suddenly sounded.</p> + +<p>Each Goat sprang from his hiding place, and with a rush +that took the Chamois completely by surprise, they fell +upon the invaders, and drove them over the precipice.</p> + +<p>It was a real triumph; for the Chamois flew down the +mountain in the wildest confusion, falling down, and darting +over each other in their hurry, and never stopping until they +had reached their own haunts in the region of the distant +Eismeer.</p> + +<p>"A glorious victory!" cried the Lieutenant, "and not a +drop of blood shed."</p> + +<p>As to the Goat-mother, she had passed through such a +moment of terror that she had to be assisted out of the +back room by three of the guard, and revived with a cabbage +leaf before she could recover herself. She then embraced +everyone all round, and the Goat-father broached a barrel +of lager-beer; while the tame Fox from the Inn (who had +appeared at the Châlet soon after the departure of the +rescue party) ran about supplying the visitors with +tumblers.</p> + +<p>The next day the Free-will Goats were disbanded, and +returned to their homes; after receiving in public the thanks +of the Goat-King for their distinguished behaviour, and a +carved matchbox each "For valour in face of the horns of +the enemy."</p> + +<p>The Stein-bok Pedlar was begged to make his home at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +Heif Châlet, but he loved his wandering life too much to +settle down.</p> + +<p>"Keep the tame Fox instead of me, ma'am," he said, as +he shook hands warmly with his friends at parting. "The +poor creature is miserable in captivity."</p> + +<p>He then made the Goat-mother a handsome present of +all his remaining groceries, and departed once more upon +his travels.</p> + +<p>That same afternoon a special messenger from the Goat-King +arrived with an inlaid musical chair, "as a slight token +of regard," for the Heif-father.</p> + +<p>"Well, at all events, it's better than a cuckoo clock," said +the Goat-mother resignedly, "but let me warn you seriously +<i>never to sit down upon it</i>! I know its ways, and though kindly +meant, I should have preferred paper-knives!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="The_Great_Ladys_Chief-Mourner" id="The_Great_Ladys_Chief-Mourner"></a>The Great Lady's Chief-Mourner.</h2> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>It was a large white house that stood on a hill. In +front stretched a beautiful garden full of all kinds +of rare flowers, on to which opened the windows +of the sitting-rooms.</p> + +<p>Everything was handsome and stately, and the lady who +owned it was handsomer and statelier than her house.</p> + +<p>In her velvet dress she sat under the shade of a sweeping +cedar tree; with a crowd of obsequious relations round her, +trying to anticipate her lightest wishes.</p> + +<p>"How nice it must be to be rich," thought the little +kitchen-maid as she looked out through the trellis work that +hid the kitchens at the side of the great house. "How +happy my mistress must be. How much I should like to +try just for one day what it feels like!"—and she went back +with a sigh to her work in the gloomy kitchen.</p> + +<p>Through the latticed window she could see nothing but +the paved yard, and an old tin biscuit box that stood on +the window-sill, and contained two little green shoots +sprouting up from the dark mould.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p> + +<p>This little ugly box was the kitchen-maid's greatest treasure. +Every day she watered it and watched over it, for she had +brought the seeds from the tiny garden of her own home, +and many sunny memories clustered about them. She was +always looking forward to the day when the first blossoms +would unfold, and now it really seemed that two buds were +forming on the slender stems. The little kitchen-maid +smiled with joy as she noticed them.</p> + +<p>"I shall have flowers, too!" she said to herself hopefully.</p> + +<p>One day, as the mistress of the house walked on the +terrace by the vegetable garden, the little kitchen-maid came +past suddenly with a basket of cabbages. She smiled and +curtsied so prettily that the great lady nodded to her kindly, +and threw her a beautiful red rose she carried in her hand.</p> + +<p>The kitchen-maid could hardly believe her good fortune. +She picked up the flower and ran with it to her bedroom, +where she put it in a cracked jam-pot in water; and the +whole room seemed full of its fragrance—just as the little +kitchen-maid's heart was all aglow with gratitude at the +kind act of the great lady.</p> + +<p>Time passed, and the little kitchen-maid's rose withered; +but the slender plants in the tin box expanded into flower, +and all the yard seemed brighter for their white petals.</p> + +<p>One day the mistress of the house fell ill. Doctors went +and came, crowds of relations besieged the house, an air of +gloom hung over the bright garden.</p> + +<p>The little kitchen-maid waited anxiously for news; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +tears rolled down her face as she heard the Church bell +tolling for the death of the great lady.</p> + +<p>A grand funeral started from the white house on the hill. +Carriages containing relations, who tried vainly to twist +their faces into an expression of the grief they were supposed +to be feeling.</p> + +<p>Wreaths of the purest hot-house flowers covered the +coffin—wreaths for which the relations had given large +sums of money; but not one woven with sorrowful care by +the hand of a real lover.</p> + +<p>The sod was patted down, the dry-eyed mourners departed; +and some square yards of bare earth were all that +now belonged to the great lady.</p> + +<p>When everyone had left, the little kitchen-maid crept +from behind some bushes, where she had been hiding.</p> + +<p>Her face was tear-stained, and she carried in her hand two +slender white flowers.</p> + +<p>They were the plants grown with such loving care in the +old tin box on the window-sill; and she laid them with a +sigh amongst the rich wreaths and crosses.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, dear mistress! I have nothing else to bring +you," she whispered; and never dreamed that her gift had +been the most beautiful of any—her simple love and tears.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Dame_Fossies_China_Dog" id="Dame_Fossies_China_Dog"></a>Dame Fossie's China Dog.</h2> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>Granny Pyetangle lived in a little thatched +cottage, with a garden full of sweet-smelling, old-fashioned +flowers. It was one of a long row of +other thatched cottages that bordered the village street. +At one end of this was the Inn, with a beautiful sign-board +that creaked and swayed in the wind; at the other, Dame +Fossie's shop, in which brandy-balls, ginger-snaps, balls of +string, tops, cheese, tallow candles, and many other useful +and entertaining things were neatly disposed in a small +latticed window.</p> + +<p>All Granny Pyetangle's relations were dead; and she lived +quite alone with her little grandson 'Zekiel, who had been a +mingled source of pride and worry to her, ever since he left +off long-clothes and took to a short-waisted frock with a +wide frill round the neck, that required constant attention in +the way of washing and ironing.</p> + +<p>'Zekiel's favourite place to play in was Granny Pyetangle's +cottage doorway.</p> + +<p>A board had been put up to prevent him rolling out on to +the cobblestone pavement; and this board though very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> +irritating to 'Zekiel in many ways—as preventing him from +straying down the road and otherwise enjoying himself—was +yet not to be despised, as he soon discovered, when he was +learning to walk.</p> + +<p>It was one of the few things he could grasp firmly, without +its immediately sliding away, doubling up, turning head over +heels, or otherwise throwing him violently down on the brick +floor of the kitchen—before he knew what had happened +to him!</p> + +<p>Granny Pyetangle frequently went to have a chat with +Dame Fossie, her large sun-bonnet shading her wrinkled +old face, a handkerchief crossed neatly over her print bodice. +On these occasions 'Zekiel accompanied his grandmother, +hanging on to her skirts affectionately with one hand, whilst +he waved a crust of brown bread in the other—a crust which +he generally carried concealed about his person, for the two-fold +purpose of assisting through his teeth and amusing +himself at every convenient opportunity.</p> + +<p>Whilst Granny Pyetangle discussed the affairs of the +neighbours, 'Zekiel would sit on the floor by her side contentedly +sucking his crust, and looking with awe upon the +contents of the shop. Such a collection of good things +seemed a perfect fairy-tale to him, and he would often settle +in his own mind what he would have when he grew up and +had pence to rattle about in his trousers' pocket, like Eli +and Hercules Colfox.</p> + +<p>Like most children in short petticoats, who—contrary to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> +the generally-received idea—are constantly meditating on +every subject that comes under their notice; 'Zekiel had +his own ideas about Granny Pyetangle and her friend Dame +Fossie.</p> + +<p>His grandmother ought to have spent more of her money +on peppermint-cushions, tin trumpets, and whip-tops, and +less on those uninteresting household stores; and Dame +Fossie should have remembered that crusts are poor work +when brandy-snaps and gingerbread are spread before you, +and ought more frequently to have bestowed a biscuit on +the round-eyed 'Zekiel, as he played with the cat, or poked +pieces of stick between the cracks of the floor when Granny +Pyetangle wasn't looking.</p> + +<p>Though 'Zekiel had no brothers and sisters, he had a great +many friends, the chief of which were Eli and Hercules +Colfox, his next door neighbours, who were very kind and +condescending to him in spite of the dignity of their +corduroy trousers.</p> + +<p>'Zekiel had a way of ingratiating himself with everyone, +and of getting what he wanted, that inspired the slower-witted +Eli and Hercules with awe and admiration; until one +day he took it into his head to long for Dame Fossie's celebrated +black and white spotted china dog!</p> + +<p>All the village knew this dog, for it had stood for years +on a shelf above the collection of treasures in the shop +window. It was not an ordinary china dog such as you +can see in any china shop now-a-days, but one of the old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>-fashioned +kind, on which the designer had (like the early +masters) expended all his art upon the dignity of expression +without harassing himself with petty details.</p> + +<p>Proudly Dame Fossie's dog looked down upon the world, +sitting erect, with his golden padlock and chain glittering in +any stray gleams of sunshine; his white coat evenly spotted +with black, his long drooping ears, neat row of carefully-painted +black curls across the forehead, and that proud smile +which, though the whole village had been smitten down +before him, would still have remained unchangeable.</p> + +<p>It was this wonderful superiority of expression that had +first attracted 'Zekiel as he played about on the floor of +Dame Fossie's parlour.</p> + +<p>The china dog never looked at him with friendly good-fellowship, +like the other dogs of the village. It never +wanted to share his crusts, or upset him by running up +against his legs just as he thought he had mastered the +difficulties of "walking like Granny!"</p> + +<p>It was altogether a strangely attractive animal, and +'Zekiel, from the time he could first indistinctly put a +name to anything, had christened it the "Fozzy-gog" out +of compliment to its owner, Dame Fossie—and the "Fozzy-gog" +it remained to him, and to the other children of the +village, for ever after.</p> + +<p>When 'Zekiel was nearly six years of age Granny Pyetangle +called him up to her, and asked what he would like for +his birthday present.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Zekiel sat down on a wooden stool in the chimney corner, +where the iron pot hung, and meditated deeply.</p> + +<p>"Eli and Hercules to tea, and a Fozzy-gog to play with," +he said at last—and Granny Pyetangle smiled and said she +would see what she could do—"'Zekiel was a good lad, and +deserved a treat."</p> + +<p>'Zekiel's birthday arrived, and the moment he opened his +eyes he saw that his grandmother had redeemed her promise.</p> + +<p>On a rush chair beside his pillow stood the very double +of the Fozzy-gog!—yellow eyes, gold collar and padlock, +black spots, and all complete!</p> + +<p>'Zekiel sprang up, and scrambled into his clothes as +quickly as possible. He danced round Granny Pyetangle +in an ecstasy of delight, and scarcely eat any breakfast, he +was in such a hurry to show his treasure to his two friends.</p> + +<p>As he handed it over the low hedge that separated the +two gardens he felt a proud boy, but Eli did not appear so +enthusiastic as 'Zekiel expected. He said that "chaney +dogs was more for Grannies nor for lads," and that if he +had been in 'Zekiel's place he would have chosen a fine +peg-top.</p> + +<p>Poor 'Zekiel was disappointed. The tears gathered in +his eyes. He hugged the despised china dog fondly to him, +and carried it indoors to put in a place of honour in Granny +Pyetangle's oak corner-cupboard—where it looked out proudly +from behind the glass doors, in company with the best tea-cups, +a shepherdess tending a woolly lamb, two greyhounds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> +on stony-white cushions, and Grandfather Pyetangle's horn +snuff-box.</p> + +<p>Time passed on, and 'Zekiel's petticoats gave place to +corduroy breeches, but his devotion to the china dog never +waned. He would talk to it, and tell it all his plans and +fancies, and several times he almost persuaded himself that +it wagged its tail and nodded to him. In fact, he was quite +sure that when Granny Pyetangle was ill that winter, the +china dog was conscious of the fact, and looked at him with +its yellow eyes full of compassion and sympathy.</p> + +<p>Poor Granny Pyetangle was certainly very ill. She had +suffered from rheumatism for many years, and was sometimes +almost bent double with it; but that autumn it came +on with increased violence, and 'Zekiel, who nursed his old +grandmother devotedly, had to sit by the bed-side for hours +giving her medicine, or the food a neighbour prepared for +her, just as she required it.</p> + +<p>Granny Pyetangle was sometimes rather cross in those +days, and would scold poor 'Zekiel for "clumping in his +boots" and "worritting"—but 'Zekiel was very patient.</p> + +<p>"Sick people <i>is</i> wearing at times," said Dame Fossie. +"Come you down to me sometimes, 'Zekiel, and I'll let you +play with my chaney dog. It isn't fit as young lads should +be cooped up always!"—and when Granny Pyetangle had +a neighbour with her, 'Zekiel gladly obeyed.</p> + +<p>One evening he ran down the village street with a smile +on his face, and a new penny in his pocket. Squire Hancock<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> +had given it to him for holding his horse, and he was +going to spend it at Dame Fossie's on a cake for his +grandmother.</p> + +<p>Twilight was falling, yet Dame Fossie's shop was not +lighted up; which was strange, as a little oil lamp generally +burned in the window as soon as it grew dusk.</p> + +<p>The shop door was shut and locked, and 'Zekiel ran round +to the back, and climbing on the edge of the rain-water butt, +he peered over the white dimity blind, into the silent kitchen.</p> + +<p>No one was there, and yet Dame Fossie must be somewhere +in the house, for he distinctly heard sounds of +thumping and scraping going on upstairs.</p> + +<p>"I'll get in through the window, and surprise her!" +said 'Zekiel; and as one of the latticed panes was unfastened +he proceeded to push it gently open, and creep in on to +the table that stood just beneath it.</p> + +<p>He unlatched the kitchen door, and stole up the ricketty +staircase.</p> + +<p>The sounds continued, but more loudly. Evidently there +was a house-cleaning going on, and 'Zekiel supposed this +was why Dame Fossie had been deaf to his repeated +knockings. He lifted the latch of the room from which the +noise proceeded, and peeping cautiously in, beheld such a +strange sight that he remained rooted to the ground with +astonishment.</p> + +<p>Dame Fossie's furniture was piled up in one corner—the +oak bureau, and the rush-bottomed chairs, inside the four<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>-post +bedstead. A pail of water stood in the middle of the +floor; and close by was the Fozzy-gog himself, with a mop +between his paws, working away with the greatest energy.</p> + +<p>He was about four times his ordinary size, as upright as +'Zekiel himself, and was directing the work of several other +china dogs; amongst whom 'Zekiel immediately recognized +his own property, Granny Pyetangle's birthday present!</p> + +<p>Everyone seemed to be too busy to notice 'Zekiel as he +stood half in the doorway. Two of the dogs were scouring +the floor with a pair of Dame Fossie's best scrubbing +brushes, another was dusting the ceiling with a feather +broom; whilst several, seated round the four-post bedstead, +were polishing it with bees' wax and "elbow-grease." They +all listened to the Fozzy-gog with respectful attention, as +he issued his directions; for he was evidently a person in +authority.</p> + +<p>It did not occur to 'Zekiel to be surprised that all the +dogs were chatting together in very comprehensible Dorsetshire +English. To see them actually living, and moving +about, was such an extraordinary thing that it swallowed up +every other feeling, even that of fear.</p> + +<p>"Make haste, my good dogs! Put the furniture straight, +and have all ready. Dame Fossie will be returning soon, +and we must be back on our shelves before her key turns," +said the Fozzy-gog cheerfully.</p> + +<p>The dogs all worked with renewed energy, and before +'Zekiel could collect his scattered wits enough to retreat or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> +hide himself, the room was in perfect order, and out trooped +the china dogs carrying the buckets, brooms, and brushes, +they had been using.</p> + +<p>As they caught sight of 'Zekiel, the Fozzie-gog jumped +several feet into the air.</p> + +<p>"What! 'Zekiel spying upon us!" he screamed angrily. +"Bring the lad into the kitchen. We must examine into +this," and he clattered down the steep stairs with his mop +into the wash-house.</p> + +<p>Poor 'Zekiel followed trembling. His own dog had crept +up to him, and slipped one paw into his hand, whispering +hurriedly, "Don't be downhearted, 'Zekiel. Never contradict +him, and he will forgive you in a year or two!"</p> + +<p>"A year or two!" thought 'Zekiel wretchedly. "And +never contradict him, indeed! when he says I was spying +on him. A likely thing!" and he clung to his friend, and +dragged him in with him into the kitchen.</p> + +<p>The Fozzy-gog sat in Dame Fossie's high-backed chair +in the chimney corner, the other china dogs grouped around +him. It reminded 'Zekiel of the stories of Kings and their +Courts, and no doubt the Fozzy-gog <i>was</i> a king—in his +own opinion at least.</p> + +<p>He questioned 'Zekiel minutely as to how he happened to +come there so late in the evening; and to all the questions +'Zekiel answered most truthfully.</p> + +<p>The frown on the Fozzy-gog's face relaxed more and +more—an amiable smile began to curl the corners of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> +mouth, and he extended his paw in a dignified manner +towards 'Zekiel, who felt like a prisoner reprieved.</p> + +<p>"We forgive you, 'Zekiel! You have always been a good +friend to us, and your own dog speaks well of you," said the +Fozzy-gog benignly. "You must give us your word you +will never mention what you have seen. In the future we +must be china dogs to you, and <i>nothing more</i>; but in return +for this you may ask one thing of us, and, if possible, we will +grant it."</p> + +<p>'Zekiel hesitated. Wild possibilities of delight in the shape +of ponies and carts flitted rapidly through his mind, and then +the remembrance of Granny Pyetangle, lying ill and suffering +on her bed in the little sloping attic, drove everything else +from his mind.</p> + +<p>"I want my poor old Granny to be well again," he said, +looking the Fozzy-gog bravely in the face—"and I don't +want naught else. If you'll do that, I'll promise anything—that's +to say, anything in reason," added 'Zekiel, who +prided himself on this diplomatic finish to his sentence—which +was one he had frequently heard his grandmother +make use of in moments of state and ceremony.</p> + +<p>The Fozzy-gog appeared to be favourably impressed by +'Zekiel's request. He rose from his chair, and waved his +paw graciously.</p> + +<p>"We dismiss this gathering!" he cried. "And you, +Pyetangle"—pointing to 'Zekiel's china dog—"take your +master home, and bring him to our meeting at the cross-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>roads +to-morrow at midnight. Do not fail. Farewell!"</p> + +<p>As he spoke the Fozzy-gog shrank and stiffened. His +black curls acquired their usual glaze, and he had just time +to jump upon the shelf above the shop window, before he +froze into his immovable china self again.</p> + +<p>The other dogs disappeared through the open kitchen +casement; and 'Zekiel found himself in the village street +without in the least knowing how he got there!</p> + +<p>It was almost dark as he ran home, but as he swung open +the garden gate, he fancied he saw something white standing +exactly in the centre of the pathway. He was sure he +heard a faint barking, and a voice whispered—"Wait a +minute, 'Zekiel, I want to talk to you." 'Zekiel retreated a +step, and sat down gasping on a flower bed.</p> + +<p>"I want to talk to you," repeated the little voice.</p> + +<p>'Zekiel craned forward, though he was trembling with +fright, and saw in the fast gathering shadows his own china +dog, standing beside Granny Pyetangle's favourite lavender +bush—though how it managed to get there so quickly he +could not imagine! He stretched out his hand to stroke +it, and started up, as instead of the cold china, he felt the +soft curls of a fluffy fur coat.</p> + +<p>"Tell me what it all means! Oh, do'ee, now!" said +'Zekiel, almost crying.</p> + +<p>The china dog sat down by 'Zekiel's side, and putting one +paw affectionately on his knee, looked up in his face, with +his honest yellow eyes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The Fozzy-gog has commissioned me to explain all +about it," he said confidentially. "So don't be frightened, +and no harm will come of it! Twice every month (if we can +escape unobserved) we take the form of ordinary dogs, and +meet together to amuse ourselves, or to work for our owners. +There are many of us in the village, and as the Fozzy-gog +is our ruler, we are bound to obey him, and to work more +for old Dame Fossie than for anybody else. Yesterday we +knew she was going to visit her married daughter. We +determined to have a thorough house-cleaning, and were +just in the midst of it when you came in! It was a good +thing the Fozzy-gog happened to be in a good temper, +and knew you well! We have never before been discovered. +He is a hasty temper, and it certainly <i>was</i> irritating!"</p> + +<p>'Zekiel began to recover from his terror, and grasped the +china dog by the paw. He felt proud to think that his ideas +about china dogs had proved true. They were not merely +"chaney"—as Eli and Hercules contemptuously expressed +it; but were really as much alive as he was himself, +after all!</p> + +<p>"However did you manage to get out of Granny Pyetangle's +cupboard?" enquired 'Zekiel, curiously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I put those lazy greyhounds and the shepherdess at +it," replied the china dog. "They worked all night, and +managed to undo the latch early this afternoon. They're +bound to work for me like all the inferior china things," and +he shook his head superciliously.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And now," said 'Zekiel, "please tell me how the Fozzy-gog +is going to get my Granny well."</p> + +<p>"Ah, that I mayn't tell you," said the china dog. "You +must come with me to-morrow night to the Dog-wood, and +you will hear all about it."</p> + +<p>As he spoke, he began to shrink and stiffen in the same +remarkable way as the Fozzy-gog, and a moment after he +was standing in his ordinary shape in the centre of the +cobblestone pathway.</p> + +<p>The moonlight shone upon his quaint little figure and the +golden padlock at his neck. 'Zekiel sprang up just as the +cottage door opened, and a neighbour came out calling, +"'Zekiel! 'Zekiel! Drat the lad! Where be you gone to?"</p> + +<p>'Zekiel tucked the china dog under his arm and hurried +in, receiving a good scolding from Granny Pyetangle and +her friend for "loitering," but he felt so light-hearted and +cheerful, the hard words fell round him quite harmlessly.</p> + +<p>"Granny 'll be well to-morrow! Granny 'll be well to-morrow!" +he kept repeating to himself over and over +again, and he ran into the kitchen just before going to +bed to make sure the things in the corner cupboard were +safely shut away for the night.</p> + +<p>'Zekiel hardly knew how he got through the next day, so +impatient was he for the evening. Granny Pyetangle was +certainly worse. The neighbours came in and shook their +heads sadly over her, and Dame Fossie hobbled up from +her shop and offered to spend the night there, as it was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> +"no' fit for young lads to have such responsibilities"—and +this offer 'Zekiel eagerly accepted.</p> + +<p>As soon as it grew dusk, he unlatched the door of the oak +cupboard; and then being very tired—for he had worked +hard since daylight—he sat down in Granny Pyetangle's large +chair, and in a minute was fast asleep.</p> + +<p>He was awakened by a series of pulls at his smock-frock; +and starting up he saw that it was quite dark, except for the +glow of a few ashes on the hearth-stone, and that the china +dog, grown to the same size as he had been the evening before, +was trying to arouse him.</p> + +<p>"Wake up, 'Zekiel!" he said in a low voice. "Dame +Fossie is upstairs with your Granny, and we must be off."</p> + +<p>'Zekiel rubbed his eyes, and taking his cap down from a +peg, and tying a check comforter round his neck, he followed +the china dog from the kitchen, and closed and latched the +door behind him.</p> + +<p>Out in the moonlit street, the china dog kept as much as +possible in the shadow of the houses; 'Zekiel following, his +hob-nailed boots <i>click</i>, <i>clicking</i> against the rough stones as he +stumbled sleepily along.</p> + +<p>They soon left the village behind them, and plunged into a +wood, which, stretching for miles across hill and dale, was +known to be a favourite haunt of smugglers.</p> + +<p>'Zekiel instantly became very wide awake indeed, and +unpleasant cold shivers ran down his back, as he thought +he saw black and white forms gliding amongst the trees,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> +and yellow eyes glancing at him between the bare branches.</p> + +<p>"It isn't smugglers. It's the dogs galloping to the +meeting place," said the china dog, who seemed able to +read 'Zekiel's thoughts in a very unnatural manner.</p> + +<p>They soon left the rough pathway they had been following, +and 'Zekiel, clinging to the china dog's paw, found himself +in the densest part of the wood, which was only dimly +lighted by a few scattered moonbeams.</p> + +<p>"We are getting near the Dog-wood now," said the china +dog as they hurried on, and in another moment they came +out on to the middle of a clearing, round which a dense +thicket of red-stemmed dog-wood bushes grew in the greatest +luxuriance.</p> + +<p>In the centre was a large square stone, like a stand; on +which sat the Fozzy-gog, surrounded by about fifty china +dogs of all shapes and sizes, but each one with a gold +padlock and chain round his neck, without which none were +admitted to the secret society of the "Fozzy-gogs."</p> + +<p>'Zekiel was drawn reluctantly into the magic circle, while +every dog wagged his tail as a sign of friendly greeting.</p> + +<p>The Fozzy-gog nodded graciously, and immediately the +dogs commenced a wild dance, with many leaps and bounds; +round the stone on which their ruler was seated.</p> + +<p>The moonlight shone brightly on their glancing white +coats; and behind rustled the great oak trees, their boughs +twisted into fantastic forms, amidst which the wind whistled +eerily.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Zekiel shuddered as he looked at the strange scene, and +longed sincerely to be back again in his little bed at Granny +Pyetangle's.</p> + +<p>"However, it won't do to show I'm afraid, or don't like +it," he said to himself, so he capered and hopped with the +others until he was quite giddy and exhausted, and forced to +sit down on a grassy bank to recover himself.</p> + +<p>"The trees are playing very well to-night," said a dog as +he skipped by. "Come and have another dance?" and he +flew round and round like a humming top.</p> + +<p>'Zekiel shook his head several times. He was so out of +breath he could only gasp hurriedly—"No, no! No more, +thank you!" but his friend had already disappeared.</p> + +<p>The Fozzy-gog now approached him. He carried something +in his paw, which he placed in 'Zekiel's hand.</p> + +<p>"Put this on Grandmother Pyetangle's forehead when you +return to-night—promise that you will keep silence for ever +about what you have seen—and to-morrow she will be +well!"</p> + +<p>"I promise," said 'Zekiel. "Oh, Fozzy-gog! I'll never +forget it!"</p> + +<p>"No thanks," said the Fozzy-gog. "I like deeds more +than words. Pyetangle shall take you home."</p> + +<p>He beckoned to 'Zekiel's dog, who came up rather sulkily—and +'Zekiel found himself outside the magic circle, and well +on his way home, almost before he could realize that they +had started!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> + +<p>As he entered Granny Pyetangle's little garden, he saw that +a light was still burning in her attic.</p> + +<p>He went softly into the kitchen. It was quite dark, but a +ray of moonlight enabled him to see the china dog open the +cupboard; and, rapidly shrinking, place himself on his +proper shelf again.</p> + +<p>'Zekiel then took off his boots, ran up the creaking stairs, +and tapped softly at Granny Pyetangle's bedroom. No one +answered, so he pushed open the door.</p> + +<p>Dame Fossie sat sleeping peacefully in a large rush-bottomed +chair by the fireplace—and Granny Pyetangle, on +her bed under the chintz curtains, was sleeping too.</p> + +<p>'Zekiel laid the Fozzy-gog's leaf carefully on her forehead, +and creeping from the room, threw himself on his own little +bed, and was soon as fast asleep as the two old women.</p> + +<p>The next morning, when Granny Pyetangle awoke, she +said she felt considerably better, and so energetic was she +that Dame Fossie had great difficulty in persuading her not +to get up.</p> + +<p>Dame Fossie tidied up the place, and was much annoyed +to find a dead leaf sticking to Granny Pyetangle's scanty +grey hair. "How a rubbishy leaf o' dog-wood came to get +there, is more nor <i>I</i> can account for," she said crossly, as +she swept it away into the fire, before 'Zekiel could interfere +to rescue it.</p> + +<p>Granny Pyetangle's recovery was wonderfully rapid. +Every day she was able to do a little more, and 'Zekiel's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> +triumph was complete when he was allowed to help her +down the stairs into the kitchen, and seat her quavering, +but happy, on the great chair in the chimney corner.</p> + +<p>"Well, it do seem pleasant to be about agin," said Granny +Pyetangle, smoothing her white linen apron. "No'but you +have kept the place clean, 'Zekiel, like a good lad. There's +those things in corner cupboard as bright as chaney can be! +and that chaney dog o' yours sitting as life-like as you please! +It wouldn't want much fancy to say he was wagging his tail +and looking at me quite welcoming!"</p> + +<p>The wood fire blazed and crackled, the kettle sang on its +chain in the wide chimney. Granny Pyetangle was almost +well, and quite happy; and 'Zekiel felt his heart overflowing +with gratitude towards the Fozzy-gog.</p> + +<p>"I'll never forget him. Never!" said 'Zekiel to himself, +"and I wouldn't tell upon him not if anyone was to worrit +me ever so!"—and indeed he never did.</p> + +<p>Years passed, and Dame Fossie's shop was shut, and Dame +Fossie herself was laid to rest. Her daughter inherited most +of her possessions; but—"to my young friend 'Zekiel Pyetangle, +I will and bequeath my china dog, hoping as he'll be +a kind friend to it," stood at the end of the sheet of paper +which did duty as her will. And so 'Zekiel became the owner +of the Fozzy-gog after all!</p> + +<p>Granny Pyetangle has long since passed away, but the +little thatched cottage is still there, with the garden full of +lavender bushes and sweet-smelling flowers. From the glass<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> +door of the corner cupboard the Fozzy-gog and his companion +look out upon the world with the same inscrutable expression; +and 'Zekiel himself, old and decrepit, but still cheerful, +may at this moment be sitting in the cottage porch, watching +his little grandchildren play about the cobblestone pathway, +or talking over old times with Eli and Hercules Colfox, who, +hobbling in for a chat, take a pull at their long pipes, and +bemoan the inferiority of everything that does not belong to +the time when "us were all lads together."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Princess_Sidigundas_Golden_Shoes" id="Princess_Sidigundas_Golden_Shoes"></a>Princess Sidigunda's Golden Shoes.</h2> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p>Princess Sidigunda lived with her parents in +a beautiful old castle by the sea. It was so near +that the royal gardens sloped down gradually to +the shore, and from its battlements—where the little Princess +was allowed to walk sometimes on half-holidays—she could +watch the ships with their gaily-painted prows and golden +dragons' heads, sweeping over the water in quest of new +lands and fresh adventures.</p> + +<p>Princess Sidigunda was an only child, and at her christening +every gift you can imagine had been showered upon her.</p> + +<p>The Trolls of the Woods gave her beauty; the Trolls of +the Water, a free, bright spirit; the Mountain-Trolls, good +health; and last, but not least, her chief Godfather, the +Troll of the Seashore, had given her a beautiful little pair +of golden slippers.</p> + +<p>"Never let the child take them off her feet," said the old +Troll. "As long as she keeps them she will be happy. If +ever they are lost the Princess's troubles will begin."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But they will grow too small for her!" said the Queen +anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, they won't!" said the old Troll. "They will +grow as she grows, so you needn't trouble about that."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 370px;"> +<img src="images/image186.png" width="370" height="400" alt="The Princess." title="The princess." /> +</div> + +<p>Time went on, and the little Princess grew to be ten +years old.</p> + +<p>The old Troll's promise was fulfilled, and her life had been +a perfectly happy one. Watched by her faithful nurse, she +had never had any opportunity of losing her magic shoes;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> +and though she often bathed and played about the shore +with her young companions, she was never allowed to be +without one of her attendants, in case she should forget +her Godfather's caution.</p> + +<p>One fine summer afternoon, the Princess, with some of +her friends, ran down to the sands from the little gate in the +castle wall.</p> + +<p>The sea looked green and beautiful, light waves curling +over on the narrow strip of yellow shore.</p> + +<p>"Let's wade!" cried the Princess. "My nurse is ill in +bed, and my two ladies think we are playing in the garden. +We'll have a little treat of being alone, and enjoy ourselves!"</p> + +<p>"We must take our slippers off," said one of the children, +as they raced along.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I wish <i>I</i> could!" cried the Princess. "I don't +believe <i>once</i> would matter. I'll put them in a safe place +where the sea can't get at them," and as she spoke she +pulled off her golden shoes, and hid them in a great hurry +behind a sand-bank.</p> + +<p>The Princess's little friends ran off laughing; while she +followed, her hair streaming, her bare feet twinkling in the +sunlight.</p> + +<p>"How nice it is to be free, without those tiresome shoes!" +cried the Princess.</p> + +<p>The children paddled in the water until they were tired, +and then Sidigunda thought it was time to put on her +slippers again. She ran to the bank, but gave a cry of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> +astonishment—she could only find one of her golden shoes! +Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked about her wildly.</p> + +<p>"Oh what shall I do?" she cried. "My shoe! My +Godfather's shoe!"</p> + +<p>The children gathered round her eagerly.</p> + +<p>"It must be there. Who can have taken it?"</p> + +<p>They searched the low sand dunes up and down, but not +a trace of the lost slipper could be found. It was gone as +entirely as if it had never existed; and as the Princess drew +on the remaining one, the tears rolled down her face, and +fell upon the sand-hill by which she was sitting.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Godfather! dear Godfather! come and help me!" +she wailed. "Do come and help me!"</p> + +<p>At her cry, the sand-hill began to quiver and shake +strangely. It heaved up, and an old man's head, with a +long grey beard, appeared in the middle; followed slowly by +a little brown-coated body.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter, God-daughter? Your tears trickled +down to me and woke me up, just as I was comfortably +sleeping," he said querulously. "They're saltier than the +sea, and I can't stand them."</p> + +<p>"My shoe's gone! Oh! whatever am I to do? I'm <i>so</i> +sorry, Godfather!"</p> + +<p>"So you ought to be!" said the old man sharply. "I +told you something bad would happen if you ever took them +off. The question is now, Where's the shoe gone to?"</p> + +<p>He leant his elbows on the mound, and looked out to sea.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Just what I thought!" he exclaimed. "The Sea-children +have taken it for a boat. I <i>must</i> speak to the Sea-grandmother +about them, and get her to keep them in better order."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's gone then, and I shall never get it back again!" +wept the Princess. "What am I to do, Godfather?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 347px;"> +<img src="images/image189.png" width="347" height="400" alt="Godfather." title="Godfather." /> +</div> + +<p>"Have you courage enough to go and find your shoe by +yourself?"</p> + +<p>"If that's the only way to get it back," said the Princess +bravely.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, you must start immediately, or the Sea-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>children +will have hidden it away somewhere. You will be +obliged to have a passport, but I'll tell you how to get that. +Take this veil"—and he drew a thin, transparent piece of +silvery gauze from his pocket—"and throw it over your head +whenever you go under the water. With it you will be able +to breathe and see, as well as if you were on dry land. From +this flask"—and he handed Sidigunda a curious little gold +bottle—"you must pour a few drops on to your remaining +shoe, and whenever you do so it will change in a moment +into a boat, a horse, or a fish, as you desire it."</p> + +<p>"How am I to start, and where am I to go to?" asked +the Princess, trying not to feel frightened at the prospect +before her.</p> + +<p>"Launch your shoe as a boat, and float on till you meet +the Sea-Troll, who is an old friend of mine. Explain your +errand to him, and say I begged him to direct you and give +you a passport. And now one last word before I leave you. +Never, <i>whatever</i> happens, cry again; for there is nothing +worries me so much, and I want to finish my sleep +comfortably."</p> + +<p>With these words the old Troll collected his long grey +beard which had strayed over the sand-hill; and folding it +round him, he disappeared in the hole again.</p> + +<p>Princess Sidigunda did not give herself time to think. +She ran down to the edge of the water, took off her golden +shoe, and poured some of the contents of her Godfather's +flask over it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> + +<p>It changed immediately into a boat, into which the +Princess stepped tremblingly; and it floated away over the +blue water until the little Princess, straining her eyes eagerly, +lost sight of her home, and the land faded away into a mere +streak upon the horizon.</p> + +<p>"I wonder when I shall meet the Sea-Troll and what +he's like," thought Princess Sidigunda. "I suppose I shall +be able to recognize him somehow."</p> + +<p>As she thought this, she noticed that some object was +rapidly floating towards her. It did not look like a boat, +and as it came nearer and nearer, she could see that it was +a large shell, on which an old man with a long beard was +seated cross-legged, surrounded by a crowd of laughing +Sea-children. They clung to the sides of the shell, swum +round it, or climbed up to rest themselves on its crinkled +edges.</p> + +<p>"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" cried the +old man in a gruff voice.</p> + +<p>The Princess trembled; but she seized her veil and the +little flask, and holding them out she repeated her Godfather's +message.</p> + +<p>"I'll see what I can do, though really these children wear +me out!" said the Sea-Troll. "I can't keep my eye on all +of them at once! You had better go down to the Sea-city, +and ask if they've carried your shoe there. If not, the Troll-writers +will tell you where it is. Show this to the city guard, +and they will direct you to the Palace." He gave the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> +Princess a flat shell on which some letters were engraved. +"Sink down at once," he continued; "you are over the +city now," and with a wave of his hand he sailed away with +the children, and was soon out of sight.</p> + +<p>"I suppose there's nothing else to be done," sighed +Sidigunda, and throwing the scarf over her head, she poured +a few drops from the bottle upon her shoe.</p> + +<p>"Turn into a fish and carry me down to the Sea-city!" +she said.</p> + +<p>In a moment she felt herself sinking through the clear +water, deeper and deeper, with a delicious drowsy feeling +that almost soothed her to sleep. She knew she was <i>not</i> +asleep though, for she could see the misty forms of sea +creatures, darting about in the dim shadows, and great +waving sea-weeds—crimson, yellow, and brown—floating up +from the rippled sand beneath.</p> + +<p>And now the shoe swum straight on, darting through the +water like an eel; until a large town came in sight, with high +walls and Palaces, and shining domes covered with mother-o'-pearl.</p> + +<p>They stopped at a great gate, before which a fish dressed +as a sentry was standing.</p> + +<p>As soon as he saw the little Princess, he drew his sword, +and came gliding towards her.</p> + +<p>"Your name and business!" he enquired, in a high thin voice.</p> + +<p>"I am Princess Sidigunda, seeking my golden shoe, and +I bring this from the Sea-Troll," said the Princess coura<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>geously. +"Will you tell me where I am to find the Trolls +of the Palace?"</p> + +<p>The fish handed the shell back sulkily, and pointed up +the street.</p> + +<p>"Go straight through till you come to the marble building +with the pearls over the door," he said; and gave the Princess +a poke with the handle of his sword, that pushed her through +the gate, almost before she had time to draw on her golden +shoe again.</p> + +<p>"What a rude, ill-bred sentry!" said Sidigunda. "My +father would be very angry if any of <i>our</i> soldiers behaved +so; but then, of course, this one is only a fish. What a +strange country I seem to have got into!"</p> + +<p>She walked along the street, looking on each side of her +curiously.</p> + +<p>Many of the houses had transparent domes, like beautiful +soap bubbles; some were built of coloured pebbles, and pink +and red coral, with branching trees of green and brown +seaweed growing up, beside and over them.</p> + +<p>Everything was strange, and unlike the earth; but what +struck the Princess most was that no inhabitants were to +be seen anywhere. A few fish swam about lazily, otherwise +an unbroken silence reigned in the Sea-city.</p> + +<p>Far away, at the end of the wide sanded road, a great +marble palace towered over the surrounding houses; and as +the Princess neared it she saw that the doors were wide +open. She walked in fearlessly, and found herself in a large<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> +hall, with walls entirely covered with cockle-shells. Long +stone tables filled the middle of the room; at which a crowd +of small brown-coated men were seated, scribbling away +with long pens, but in total silence.</p> + +<p>The great grey beards of some of the writers had touched +the ground, and even twisted themselves round the legs of +the benches on which the old men were sitting.</p> + +<p>Princess Sidigunda stood for a minute looking on, +curiously. She then went up to one of the Trolls and pulled +him gently by the sleeve.</p> + +<p>He did not look up, but his pen slightly slackened its +speed.</p> + +<p>"What do you want?" he enquired in an uninterested +voice. "Make haste, for I have no time to spare!"</p> + +<p>"What rude people they all are!" thought the Princess. +"The Sea-Troll said you would tell me how to find my +golden shoe," she continued aloud.</p> + +<p>"I wish the Sea-Troll would mind his own business!" +said the little brown man vindictively. "He's always +distracting us from our State business with all sorts of +messages."</p> + +<p>"Are you working for the State?" enquired Sidigunda.</p> + +<p>"Of course! I thought every oyster knew that," replied +the brown Troll.</p> + +<p>"Are they particularly uneducated, then?" asked the +Princess.</p> + +<p>"Why they're <i>babies</i>!" said the brown Troll. "You can<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> +see them any day in their beds by the side of the road, if you +have eyes in your head."</p> + +<p>"What a place to keep babies in!" thought the Princess, +but she said nothing, for she saw that the old Troll's disposition +was very irritable.</p> + +<p>"Would you tell me one thing," she began. "I do so +much want to know why I saw no one in the streets as I +came along. Where have all the people gone to?"</p> + +<p>"Well, of <i>all</i> the idi——" commenced the brown Troll, +then checked himself with an effort. "Of course you can't +know how foolish your questions sound," he said. "When +you're two or three hundred years old I daresay you'll be +more sensible. Why all the people are asleep—you don't +suppose it's the same as in <i>your</i> country!"</p> + +<p>"Do they sleep all the time?" asked the Princess.</p> + +<p>"Not all the time, of course. In this town it's two weeks +at a stretch. In other places more, or less. By this arrangement +we always have half the population asleep, and half +awake—much pleasanter and less crowding. I can't think +why it's not done in other places!"</p> + +<p>Princess Sidigunda looked surprised.</p> + +<p>"Will the children who took my shoe be asleep?" she +enquired anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Not they!" said the brown Troll crossly, "I wish +they would be! Children under twelve <i>never</i> sleep. +It's like having a crowd of live eels always round me! +I'd put them to sleep when they were a month old, and not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> +let them wake till they came of age, if I had <i>my</i> way!"</p> + +<p>The Princess felt rather frightened of this savage little +brown man. She was afraid to ask any more questions, +though she longed to know why he and his companions +were not asleep too.</p> + +<p>"Go straight down the street," commenced the old Troll +abruptly, "out of the green gate, along the road to the +open country. Turn your shoe into a horse, and don't stop +till you reach the Crab-boy's hut. He will direct you."</p> + +<p>"That sounds simple enough," thought the Princess, +"but I wish he would tell me a little more!"</p> + +<p>The brown Troll, however, refused to open his mouth +again, and Princess Sidigunda was obliged to start off upon +her wanderings, with no more guide than the few words +he had chosen to speak to her.</p> + +<p>She ran down the silent street, and out at the green gate; +the Fish-sentry allowing her to pass without objection. As +soon as she reached the country road, she walked more +slowly. She particularly wanted to see the beds with the +Sea-babies, which the old Troll had spoken about.</p> + +<p>For some distance she noticed nothing except wide sandy +plains dotted with rocks, shells, and waving forests of giant +seaweed—huge fish darting about in all directions—but at +last the scenery grew wilder; and close to the road side she +came upon a grove of oysters, each half-open shell containing +a Sea-child, whose head and arms appeared above the +edges of the shell, while its feet and body were invisible.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> + +<p>Beside them sat an old woman, grey and wrinkled; with a +small switch in her hand, with which she occasionally +touched the Sea-babies as they leaned too far from their +shells, or as their laughter rose too noisily.</p> + +<p>The little Princess stopped and looked at the children +curiously; and the old woman stepped forward and made a +polite curtsey.</p> + +<p>"They are rather noisy to-day," she said deprecatingly. +"The oyster-nurses have gone out for a holiday, and I have +to keep the whole bed in order!"</p> + +<p>"I should like to wait and play with them," said the +Princess, "but I really am in such a hurry—I've lost my +golden shoe."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you're going to the Crab-boy, I suppose?" said +the old woman. "Down the road as straight as you can +go, and you'll come to his hut," and she turned away to the +children again.</p> + +<p>Sidigunda took off her slipper, and poured out some drops +from her magic bottle.</p> + +<p>Immediately it grew larger and larger; and she had just +time to spring in, before it galloped away with a series of +bounds that made it very difficult to cling on.</p> + +<p>Faster and faster it went, until the country seemed only a +flying haze; and just as the Princess began to feel she +could endure no more, it stopped abruptly before a small +hut.</p> + +<p>Outside the door a boy sat on a stone seat, playing on a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> +long horn whose notes echoed among the rocky hills that +surrounded him.</p> + +<p>Princess Sidigunda looked at the boy with a friendly smile. +He stopped playing, and made room for her to sit down +beside him.</p> + +<p>"I knew you were coming," he said. "You want to go to +the Sea-grandmother, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do!" said the Princess. "Do you live here all +alone?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course," replied the Crab-herd, "I look after all +the crabs of the district. You may see me collect them if +you like, for if I'm to go with you now, I must shut them up +safely before starting."</p> + +<p>As he said this, he rose, and blowing a few notes on his +horn, he walked slowly along, followed by the Princess.</p> + +<p>As the horn sounded, crabs of every size and colour came +darting out from the stones, and scuttled across the sand +towards the Crab-boy. There were red and green, yellow +and brown, large and small—a procession growing larger and +larger, until it reached an enclosed space, into which the boy +guided it, and then shut the gate securely.</p> + +<p>The Princess had dropped down to rest upon a conch-shell, +in the shade of some purple seaweed, and she looked up at +the Crab-herd with her large blue eyes, while he counted his +crabs, and chased in one or two of the stragglers.</p> + +<p>"Is the Sea-grandmother's house far off?" she asked +thoughtfully.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Up in the great mountains, no distance from here. She +lives in a cave, with plenty of space for her knitting."</p> + +<p>"Does she knit <i>much</i>?" enquired Sidigunda.</p> + +<p>"Yes; she knits and spins too. She never leaves off; and +never has for hundreds and thousands of years."</p> + +<p>"What a very old lady she must be! Old enough to be +a great-great-great-grandmother!" cried the Princess in +astonishment.</p> + +<p>"If you said three hundred '<i>greats</i>' you would be nearer +the real thing," remarked the Crab-boy. "But come now, +follow me, and we will start immediately."</p> + +<p>Princess Sidigunda got up, and taking the Crab-herd's +hand, they set off down the road towards the mountains.</p> + +<p>As they reached the foot of the grey cliffs, the Crab-boy +unfolded a pair of fin-like wings from his elbows, and began +to swim upwards—leaving the little Princess with her arms +stretched out imploringly towards him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>don't</i> leave me here by myself!" she cried. "I shall +never find my way to the Sea-grandmother!"</p> + +<p>"Why there she is, just above us in that cave in the side +of the mountain," said the Crab-boy. "Don't you see her +beautiful white hair, and the flash of her knitting-needles?"</p> + +<p>The Princess looked up, and there sat a beautiful old lady +in a hole in the rock, high, high above them. A crowd of +Sea-children played about her, and seemed to be carrying +away the cloud-like white knitting as fast as it flowed from +her busy fingers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p> + +<p>She bent her head towards Sidigunda, and nodded to her, +without ceasing her work for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Come, Princess, and talk to me!" she called in a sweet, +low voice. "Take your shoe off, and it will bring you here +in a moment."</p> + +<p>Sidigunda did as she was told—for the old lady spoke as +if she were used to being obeyed without question—and +found herself floating upwards, until she alighted on a broad +ledge right in front of the Sea-grandmother.</p> + +<p>"So you have come all this way to find your golden shoe?" +the old lady said in her clear, even voice. "Sit down, and +tell me all about it."</p> + +<p>The Princess thought the Sea-grandmother's face young +and lovely. It was smooth and unwrinkled; eyes clear as +crystal, with blue depths in them, shining out with a soft +benign look; while her slim hands turned and twisted unceasingly, +and her long green dress fell round her in wave-like +folds.</p> + +<p>Her smile was so soft and kind, that the Princess felt as if +she had known her all her life.</p> + +<p>"I have sent for your shoe, my child," she said. "Those +tiresome grandchildren of mine give me a great deal of +trouble. I can't keep my eyes on all of them at once, and so +they are always in mischief!"</p> + +<p>Sidigunda looked up in the gentle face; and sat down +confidingly beside the Sea-grandmother.</p> + +<p>"Do you always knit so busily, Grandmother?" she said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> +as she watched the white foamy fabric float off the needles.</p> + +<p>"Of course, child. I have been working like this for +thousands and thousands of years. Who do you imagine +would provide the waves with nightcaps if <i>I</i> ever stopped? +When the wind blows and they dance, or when they curl +over on the shore, they would be cold indeed, without my +comfortable white nightcaps!"</p> + +<p>"Can you get me my shoe, dear Grandmother?" asked +the little Princess wistfully.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, dear child. Though if you had not come at +once, you might have had to wait a few hundred years or so, +before I could have found it for you. The children wander +so far now-a-days! Have you seen it?" the Sea-grandmother +continued, turning to some of the children who +surrounded her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," they answered in chorus. "Just now it floated +above us. We can fetch it in a minute!"</p> + +<p>"Swim away then, as fast as you can!" cried the Sea-grandmother, +and the children darted off like fish through +the green clearness of the water.</p> + +<p>The sound of their laughter had hardly died away in the +distance, before they reappeared, dragging the golden shoe +behind them; and the Princess, with smiles of joy, embraced +them all as she drew it on to her foot again.</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you, dearest Grandmother! I don't know +how I can show you how grateful I am," cried Sidigunda.</p> + +<p>"By going home at once to your father and mother, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> +by promising me <i>never</i> again to be disobedient," said the +Sea-grandmother gravely. "Give me your shoe, and I will +order it to take you back to the Castle."</p> + +<p>She stopped her needles for a moment, and passed her +hand over the slipper: then kissed the little Princess, and +waved the knitting rapidly before her.</p> + +<p>A white cloud seemed to float over Sidigunda, and she +felt herself lifted up with a soothing motion, until on opening +her eyes she found she was once more in the region of the +fresh air and sunshine. Looking round, she saw the ruffled +surface of the sea, and the waves breaking upon the shore +before the Castle.</p> + +<p>Her heart beat with happiness, as the golden shoe landed +her safely on the beach; and she ran up through the little +gate into the Castle gardens, right into the arms of her +mother, who was pacing up and down with her attendants, +in great anxiety.</p> + +<p>Under the shade of some spreading fir trees the Princess +related her adventures, begging the King and Queen to +forgive her for her disobedience; and the whole Court was +so delighted at her return that everyone forgot to scold her.</p> + +<p>That evening bonfires were lighted on all the hill-tops; +and a great banquet was held in the Castle, at which the +Princess appeared amidst loud cheering, and, holding her +father's hand, drank from a golden goblet to the health of +her Godfather, the Shore-Troll, and the Sea-grandmother.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="The_Badgers_School" id="The_Badgers_School"></a>The Badger's School,</h2> + +<h4><span class="smcap">or</span></h4> + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Adventures of a Bear Family.</span></h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3> + + +<p>In the very heart of a great forest in Sweden lived +a Bear family, called "Bjornson."</p> + +<p>They were much respected throughout the whole +neighbourhood, for they were kind and hospitable to everyone; +and as their home was in such an unfrequented part +of the country they were able often to give entertainments +which it was quite safe to attend without fear of Foresters +or other human inconveniences.</p> + +<p>Their house was built of large stones, neatly roofed with +pine branches, and was reached by a winding path through +the rocks, the entrance to which had become covered by a +dense thicket of bushes. A small wire had been cunningly +arranged by the Bear-father, so that in the event of any +stranger entering the door a bell would be rung in the Bear-kitchen; +but so far the household had fortunately never +been alarmed by this contrivance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p> + +<p>The two Bjornson children, Knut and Otto, led a very +happy life in the forest. Whenever they liked they could +bring some of their young companions home from the +School-house in the evening; and then the Bear-mother +would seat herself on a tree-stump and play tunes for them +to dance to—for Fru Bjornson was highly educated, and +had learnt the concertina in all its branches.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 313px;"> +<img src="images/image205.png" width="313" height="400" alt=""THE BEAR-MOTHER HAD LEARNT THE CONCERTINA IN ALL ITS BRANCHES"" title=""THE BEAR-MOTHER HAD LEARNT THE CONCERTINA IN ALL ITS BRANCHES"" /> +<span class="caption">"THE BEAR-MOTHER HAD LEARNT THE CONCERTINA IN ALL ITS BRANCHES"</span> +</div> + +<p>This of course was all very delightful: but every morning +Knut and Otto were obliged to start off at daybreak with +their books and satchels for the forest School, and there a +time of trouble usually awaited them. It was kept by an +old Badger of very uncertain temper, and all his pupils +stood in great awe of the birch rod which lay in a conspicuous +place upon his writing-table.</p> + +<p>"It's all very well for the Hedgehogs," the scholars often +grumbled to each other. "Of course <i>they</i> can do just what +they like, as they happen to be covered all over with quills—but +for <i>us</i> it's a very different affair!"</p> + +<p>Certainly strict discipline was maintained by the Badger +during School time. His eyes seemed to be upon everyone +at once, and it was vain to try and crack nuts, draw caricatures, +or eat peppermint lozenges—the rod would come +down immediately with a <i>thump</i>! and the offender, as he +stood in a corner of the room with a fool's cap on, had +time to fully realize the foolishness of his own behaviour.</p> + +<p>Forest History and Arithmetic were the Badger's two +favourite studies, and each pupil was expected to know the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> +Multiplication Table upside-down, and to be able to give +the date of any event in Bear-history, without a moment's +hesitation.</p> + +<p>It was perhaps not to be wondered at that the scholars +were glad when playtime arrived, and that they rushed +home helter-skelter, with shouts of joy, the moment the +School-house door was thrown open.</p> + +<p>Many practical jokes had been tried upon the old Schoolmaster, +and the offenders had invariably been severely +punished, but one day in early autumn Knut and Otto, as +they walked home with their friends, suggested a plan +which would sweep away at one blow a great part of the +misery of their School life.</p> + +<p>"You know the great History and Arithmetic books that +Herr Badger always keeps on the desk in front of him?" +said Knut. "We'll scoop out the insides and fill them with +fireworks. Then directly he comes into School, we'll let +them off. What an explosion there'll be! He <i>will</i> be +frightened! No more sums and dates after that. Hurrah! +Hurrah!"</p> + +<p>The scholars jumped about with delight when they heard +the young Bears' idea, and eagerly agreed to join in the +mischief.</p> + +<p>Their mothers were quite surprised the next morning to +see with what alacrity they all started for School—half-an-hour +earlier than their usual custom—and Fru Bjornson +remarked to her old servant that "she really believed the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> +children were beginning to take an interest in their studies +<i>at last</i>!"</p> + +<p>The old Badger had not yet finished breakfast in his +cottage by the School-house; so his pupils were able to +enter the School-room unobserved, and had soon carried +out their simple arrangements.</p> + +<p>An oiled string was attached, winding up the leg of the +table to the fireworks; and the end was to be lighted by +Knut the moment Herr Badger had seated himself.</p> + +<p>Everything being completed, the scholars seized their +books; and when their master appeared in the doorway, +murmured a respectful greeting, to which he responded by +a stately bow.</p> + +<p>"Your slates, pupils. We will commence as usual with +a few easy sums."</p> + +<p>A subdued groan broke from the scholars; and Knut—stooping +down under pretence of tying up his shoe—applied +a match to the string, while his companions shuffled as +loudly as possible, to hide the sound of the striking.</p> + +<p>"Silence, if you <i>please</i>!" shouted the Badger. "Have +you come to school to dance the polka? Attend to this +little problem immediately, and mind it is correctly answered. +If 10,000 Bears and a Pole-cat, ran round a tree 1,500 times +and a half, in an hour and ten minutes; each knocking off +one leaf and three-quarters every time he ran round—how +many leaves would be knocked off in a fortnight?"</p> + +<p>"They couldn't do it," muttered a hedgehog derisively.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> +"There wouldn't be room for a quarter of them!"</p> + +<p>"Make haste! Make haste!" cried the Badger, rapping +his desk; but just at that moment, <i>whirr!</i> <i>whizz!</i> <i>bang!</i> +The books flew open with a loud report, and out sprang +the crackers, and began to fizz and bound about the table.</p> + +<p>Herr Badger's black skull cap tumbled off, and he fell +backwards in his astonishment, shouting for help; while the +whole school darted away through the open door into the +woods, in a state of the wildest delight and excitement.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3> + + +<p>Fru Bjornson was busily employed in her kitchen, stirring +up some liquid in a large saucepan. It was cranberry jam +for the winter, and on the floor stood a long row of brown +jars into which it was to be poured when the boiling was +thoroughly completed.</p> + +<p>The servant, a little thin light-brown Bear, in a large +apron, waited close by, ready to poke the fire, or give any +other assistance that was required of her.</p> + +<p>In the salon, Herr Bjornson, with a pucker on his forehead, +was adding up his Bee accounts—for he kept a +number of hives in the garden and fields belonging to him.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the alarm bell sounded loudly, and in rushed +the Bear-mother, with the jam-ladle in her hand, her hair +almost erect with terror.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They have found us at last! What shall we do? +Where shall we fly to?" she cried distractedly.</p> + +<p>"Into the ice-cellar," cried Herr Bjornson, "come, +Ingold. Everyone follow me!" and he threw his papers +down on the ground and ran out at the back door.</p> + +<p>Fortunately the ice-cellar was near the house, and the +frightened family were soon safely in its shelter.</p> + +<p>By opening a crack in the small trap-door, which was +level with the ground, they were able to see all that went on +in the garden; and the steps afforded them a place to sit +down upon, without touching the great blocks of ice that +looked white and ghostly as the thin streak of daylight +struggled in upon them.</p> + +<p>"Is anyone coming?" whispered the Bear-mother +nervously.</p> + +<p>"I can't see anything moving," growled Herr Bjornson. +"Keep back, Mother. I can't help treading upon you. +Dear me! How cramped we are here!"</p> + +<p>"It's terribly cold," said the Bear-mother shivering. +"I can feel myself freezing in every hair."</p> + +<p>"Wrap your shawl round you, and stamp about a little."</p> + +<p>Fru Bjornson attempted to carry out the directions, but +the space was so small there was scarcely room to move +in it.</p> + +<p>The air seemed to get colder and colder; Ingold's fur +turned frost-white, and she twined her apron round her head +to prevent herself from being frost-bitten.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, this is awful," quaked the Bear-mother. "We +shall all die or be turned into icicles if we can't get out +before long!"</p> + +<p>The Bear-father had put up his coat-collar and tied his +bandanna pocket-handkerchief over his ears. His hair was +also covered with white crystals, and he was seized with an +attack of coughing which obliged him to borrow the Bear-mother's +shawl to bury his head in, so that the sound might +not be heard outside.</p> + +<p>"This is painful in the extreme," he said in a choked +voice as he emerged gasping. "A cough lozenge at this +moment might be the saving of us!"</p> + +<p>"What shall we do if the enemy hears us!" cried Fru +Bjornson. "Here! I have just found a peppermint-drop +in my pocket. Let us divide it into three. It may be some +slight assistance."</p> + +<p>They soon discovered, however, that lozenges were utterly +powerless to keep out that biting air, and the Bear-mother +seated herself resignedly on an ice-block.</p> + +<p>"It's no good struggling against fate," she murmured. +"We shall be found by the children, I suppose. You'd +better keep your arms down straight, father; and freeze as +narrow as possible. Then they will be able to get you out +of the opening without much difficulty. It seems hard to +think they will never know the true facts of the case," she +continued mournfully. "Our epitaph will probably be 'Sat +down carelessly in an Ice-house!'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Don't despair, Mother," cried Herr Bjornson, who had +one eye anxiously applied to the crack in the trap-door. "I +see the back gate opening. In another minute we shall +know the worst—Hi! What! Well, I never! Who do you +think it is, Mother? Why, <i>the Schoolmaster</i>!"</p> + +<p>Herr Badger indeed it was, who had come off in a great +hurry to complain of the disgraceful behaviour of his pupils, +and being very excited had inadvertently trodden on the +wire of the alarm bell as he entered the private grounds of +the Bear-family.</p> + +<p>He seemed a little surprised as the strange procession +suddenly rose up out of the ground in front of him, but +without making any enquiries as to what they had been +doing there, he plunged at once into the history of his +wrongs.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3> + + +<p>All day the Badger's scholars enjoyed themselves in the +forest. They played leap-frog, ran races, bathed in the +river, had lunch in a shady hollow, and picked more +cranberries than they knew what to do with; but as +evening came on, they began to wonder a little anxiously +whether the Schoolmaster would already have been round +to their parents to complain of their behaviour; and when +Knut and Otto entered their own door in the bushes, their +knees were shaking under them, and it occurred to them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> +that perhaps the fireworks hadn't been quite so amusing as +they expected, after all!</p> + +<p>They were met by Herr Bjornson with a gloomy frown. +There was no doubt that Herr Badger had told him everything, +and the little Bears waited tremblingly for what was +to happen next.</p> + +<p>"What is this that I hear?" commenced the Father-bear +angrily. "Your respected Master ill-treated in his own +School-house. Thrown violently upon the ground, with +crackers exploding round him for several hours! What +have you to say for yourselves?"</p> + +<p>"Please, father, we didn't mean to hurt him," began +Knut in a piping voice; "It was only to get rid of the +books. We won't do it again!"</p> + +<p>"I should think <i>not</i>, indeed," said Herr Bjornson. "I +shall punish you myself severely to-morrow, after School +time, and Herr Badger is going to give you two hours' extra +Arithmetic every day for a fortnight."</p> + +<p>Knut and Otto crept off miserably into the garden, and +that evening there was no dancing, and the Bear-mother's +concertina was silent.</p> + +<p>Before it was daylight next morning, Knut had +awakened Otto. They had determined the night before +that they would <i>never</i> return to Herr Badger's rule, and +the matter of the extra Arithmetic had settled their +determination.</p> + +<p>They started with their cloaks, and with lunch in their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> +satchels, as if going to School—leaving a note for their +mother upon the kitchen dresser.</p> + +<p>This letter was written with the stump of a lead pencil, +and ran as follows:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<i>To the well-born Fru Bjornson.</i></p> + +<p>"<i>We cant keep at ilt any mor. We want to be inderpendent, +and the sums are 2 mutch. We sik our fortones, and return wen +we ar rich.</i></p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Knut. Otto.</span>"</p></div> + +<p>As soon as they reached the forest, the two little Bears +ran forward as quickly as they could towards the river.</p> + +<p>They intended to take any canoe they found by the shore, +and row themselves over to the opposite side. They did +not know exactly what they should do when they got there; +but anyhow, they would be safe from punishment when +they were once over.</p> + +<p>As they went along they kept as much as possible behind +the underwood, though it was so early it was scarcely likely +that any of the charcoal-burners or fishermen would be +stirring.</p> + +<p>After some search they discovered a small canoe drawn +up under the bushes, and untying it without much difficulty, +they got in, and Knut paddled actively out into the strong +current.</p> + +<p>"This <i>is</i> independence!" cried Otto, arranging the knapsacks +and cloaks in the bow of the boat, and taking up the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> +steering-paddle. "What would Herr Badger say if he could +see us now?"—and he chuckled.</p> + +<p>All day they drifted down the river—watching the salmon +dart about the boulders, and the trout leap in the curling +eddies. It was so silent in the great forest, with the pine +trees growing close to the edge of the water, that at last the +little Bears' high spirits began to fail them; and as the evening +came on their laughter ceased, and they sat quietly in the +canoe, steering their way between the great rocks without +speaking.</p> + +<p>"How strong the current is here," muttered Otto at last. +"I can scarcely keep the boat straight!"</p> + +<p>"Well, let's land and find some place to sleep in," cried +Knut—but this was more easily said than done. The +moment they tried to turn the canoe in towards the shore, +it began to whirl round and round; and finally striking +against a stone, it upset the two little Bears into the +middle of the foaming river.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3> + + +<p>Fortunately Knut and Otto were good swimmers, and +they were able after some struggling to scramble to the +shore; but they found to their great annoyance that they +had landed on the same side as that from which they had +started.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> + +<p>Their canoe was whirling rapidly away down the rapids, +and it was useless to think of recovering it; so the two +little Bears proceeded to dry their clothes as well as they +could, and then looked about to see if they could find a +comfortable place to sleep in.</p> + +<p>A large hollow tree stood close to the edge of the river, +and into this they climbed, and being very tired they were +soon fast asleep.</p> + +<p>They were awakened by voices.</p> + +<p>"It's <i>men</i>!" whispered Otto, clutching Knut's arm in +terror. "Oh, why did we ever run away! They'll be <i>sure</i> +to find us!"</p> + +<p>"Be quiet, Otto," muttered Knut. "Do you want them +to hear? Lie still, and I'll think of some way to escape."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure this is the right tree?" said a man's voice.</p> + +<p>"Don't you see the mark?" asked another. "The +Forester put it on himself; though it's rather high up. +You'd better begin work at once, or you'll not get through +with it before he comes round again."</p> + +<p>This was awful. Otto trembled so that he could hear his +own teeth chattering; but Knut kept his presence of mind, +and poking his brother warningly, said in a hoarse whisper,</p> + +<p>"Wait till I give the signal, and then jump out after me +as high in the air as you can. Follow me till I tell you +to stop."</p> + +<p>An echoing blow resounded against the tree trunk, which +made Knut fly up like a sky-rocket.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now!" he cried, and bounding on to the edge of the +opening, he jumped right over the heads of the woodmen +into the tangled bushes, followed by Otto, and away they +raced through the forest, before the astonished men could +recover themselves.</p> + +<p>"What in the world was that?" cried the wood-cutters, +rubbing their eyes and blinking; but no one had been able to +see more than two flying brown balls, and after hunting +about in vain, they decided it must have been a couple of +gigantic owls.</p> + +<p>Only one thing did they find in the hollow tree, and that +certainly puzzled them—a small piece of crumpled paper, on +which was sketched a life-like picture of a Badger with a +fool's cap on his head; underneath, written in cramped +letters—</p> + +<p>"<i>How would you like it?</i>"</p> + +<p>After running for about half an hour, Knut sank down +panting on a juniper bush, while Otto rolled upon the moss +thoroughly exhausted.</p> + +<p>"Arithmetic was better than this!" he panted dismally, +fanning himself with a large fern leaf. "History was +better—<i>anything</i> was better!"</p> + +<p>"Well, we're quite safe here for the present," replied +Knut, "so don't worry yourself any more. I'm so tired I +can't keep awake, and I'm sure you can't." And, indeed, in +spite of their fright, in a few minutes both the little Bears +were sound asleep again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> + +<p>When they next opened their eyes, the sun was glinting +through the pine trees; and looking down on them benignly, +stood a Fox in travelling dress, with a soft felt hat +upon his head.</p> + +<p>He smiled graciously upon Knut, and beckoned him to +come out of the juniper bushes.</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! my good gentlemen, you are taking a comfortable +rest in a very secluded spot, but you can't escape +<i>my</i> observation!" he cried cheerfully. "Are you on your +way to some foreign Court—or perhaps you are couriers +with State secrets?"</p> + +<p>The two little Bears, feeling very flattered, sat up and +straightened their tunics.</p> + +<p>"The truth is, we are seeking our fortunes," said Knut +with dignity.</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing easier," replied the Fox. "You come +with me. Such hearty, well-grown young Bears will find +no difficulty in getting excellent situations. I can almost +promise you each a large income if you implicitly follow +my directions."</p> + +<p>"Where should we go to, then?" asked Knut cautiously.</p> + +<p>"To a dear friend of mine, who employs an immense +number of workmen," said the Fox easily. "I will just let +you see who I am before we proceed further," and he drew +a case from his pocket, and taking out a card, presented it +to the little Bears with a low bow.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Just as if we were grown up!" whispered Otto. "Oh, +Knut, how different this is to Herr Badger!"</p> + +<p>On the card, printed in elegant copper-plate, was the +following—</p> + +<p>"<i>Herr Kreutzen, Under-Secretary (and Working Member) +of the Society for promoting the welfare of Farmers.</i>"</p> + +<p>Knut looked at Herr Kreutzen respectfully.</p> + +<p>"If you'll be so kind as to show us the way, we'll follow +you at once," he said. "If we could get a little breakfast +on the way, we should be glad; for we have lost our +satchels, and berries are not very satisfying."</p> + +<p>"Come along, then!" said the Fox briskly; and seizing +the two little Bears by the paw, he dragged them into the +heart of the forest at a rapid pace.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER V.</h3> + + +<p>On the day after his visit to the Bjornson family, Herr +Badger, feeling very dull, sat alone in the cottage by the +School-house.</p> + +<p>Every one of his pupils had deserted him; for not only +had the two little Bears run away, but all their companions +had also played truant; and the whole of that part of the +forest was filled with parents anxiously searching for their +missing children—like a gigantic game of hide-and-seek.</p> + +<p>Herr Badger called to his housekeeper to bring him the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> +black-board, a couple of globes, and the book of conic-sections, +and for some hours he amused himself happily; +but at the end of that time he began to experience an +almost irresistible desire to teach something.</p> + +<p>"If I can't get anyone else, I'll call Brita," he said to +himself. "I can just ask her a few easy questions suited +to her limited intellect."</p> + +<p>The housekeeper came in, curtsying respectfully, and +seated herself at the table, as she was bidden.</p> + +<p>"I must imagine I have given up school, and taken to +private pupils," the Badger said to himself. "I hope she +won't exasperate me, and make me lose my temper! Now +take this slate," he continued aloud, "and try and do one +of these simple sums. You'll soon get used to them—</p> + +<p>"If five onions were to be boiled in six saucepans, how +would you divide the onions so that there would be exactly +the same quantity in each pan?"</p> + +<p>"Chop them up," replied the housekeeper promptly.</p> + +<p>The Badger glared. "You're not attending. I said, +'How would you <i>divide</i> them!'"</p> + +<p>"You might mince them very fine, or pound them in a +mortar," replied the housekeeper anxiously. "I don't know +of no other way of doing it."</p> + +<p>"Work it out on the slate, creature!—on the <i>slate</i>!" +cried Herr Badger, thumping the table with his long ruler.</p> + +<p>"I'd rather do it on a dish, sir," said the housekeeper, +trembling. "It's more what I'm accustomed to."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p> + +<p>Herr Badger started up in a fury. "<i>You</i> call yourself a +private pupil?" he shouted (quite forgetting that the housekeeper +had never called herself anything of the kind). +"Go back to the kitchen immediately."</p> + +<p>"I could bring you the Mole who blacks the boots, if +<i>he'd</i> be any good," said the housekeeper humbly. "I know +I'm very ignorant, but the Mole tells me he's been attending +day school for years, and he reads recipes out of the cookery-book +quite beautiful."</p> + +<p>"Don't speak to me of Moles!" said the Badger crossly. +"I shall take no more private pupils—they're not worth it." +And he walked over to the black-board, and began to draw +diagrams.</p> + +<p>"What's the good of diagrams, without a class to explain +them to?" he muttered. "I declare I believe I <i>was</i> too +hard on those children. We can't be all equally gifted. It +wouldn't be a bad idea if I went out as one of the search +parties. I declare I <i>will</i>!" he continued, his face brightening, +"and I'll make every creature I find promise to come +back to school again. I must make up a class somehow, or +I shall die of monotony."</p> + +<p>He took down his old felt hat with the ear-flaps, and +putting some food in a knapsack, and choosing a stout +walking-stick, he flung a green cloak over his shoulders, and +let himself out into the forest.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER VI.</h3> + + +<p>The Fox took the two little Bears on so quickly, that +they soon began to feel both cross and tired. To their +anxious enquiries as to where they were going, and whether +they could not soon have some breakfast, Herr Kreutzen +answered vaguely that they would very soon reach their +destination, and should have as much breakfast as they +could possibly care for.</p> + +<p>"My friends are kind worthy people, and you'll find +every sort of luxury," he said, smiling benignly.</p> + +<p>"We seem to be coming near a town," whispered Knut +to Otto. "I don't quite like this!" and he tried to pull his +paw away from the good "Secretary of the Society for +promoting the welfare of Farmers."</p> + +<p>"Come along, my dear child. We are almost there," +cried the Fox. "I am just going to tie you both up to +this tree for a minute—merely to be sure you are quite safe +and happy in my absence—and I shall return with my kind +friend, in no time!"</p> + +<p>Herr Kreutzen took some string from his pocket as he +spoke, and the two little Bears—who saw there was no use +in struggling—submitted to be fastened together to a fir tree.</p> + +<p>As soon as the Fox had disappeared, Otto burst into a +loud roar of terror.</p> + +<p>"Oh, he's going to do something dreadful, I know he is! +We shall never, <i>never</i> get away again!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's no good making that noise," said Knut, angrily. +"Leave off, Otto, and let me think."</p> + +<p>"You may think for ever," wailed Otto, "and unless +you've got a pocket knife you won't get these knots undone!" +and he began to cry again with renewed vigour.</p> + +<p>"Why, whatever is the matter?" said a friendly voice +close by.</p> + +<p>The little Bears looked round eagerly, and saw that an +elderly Badger was approaching. He was evidently a woodcutter, +for he had a large axe in his hand, and the three young +Badgers who followed him were carrying neatly-tied bundles +of sticks.</p> + +<p>Knut stretched out his paw beseechingly.</p> + +<p>"<i>Please</i> cut the string! Oh, <i>please</i>, Herr Badger, make +haste, and let us get free. Herr Kreutzen will be back in a +minute, and then there'll be <i>no</i> hope for us!"</p> + +<p>"So this is some of <i>his</i> work!" said the Badger angrily. +"I declare that creature is a plague to the whole forest!"</p> + +<p>With two blows of his axe he cut the strings that bound +the little Bears; and ordering them to follow him to a place +of safety, he darted through the bushes with his children, +and never stopped until they came out into a secluded +valley, at the end of which, in a small clearing, stood a hut +built of pine logs.</p> + +<p>Before the door sat the Badger-mother with some plain +sewing, while five of the young Badger-children played +about on the grass in front of her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You're home early to-day, father," she said cheerfully, +and added, as she caught sight of the little Bears—"Why, +wherever did you pick up these strangers, father?"</p> + +<p>The Badger described the unpleasant position in which +he had found them; and the whole family gathering round, +Knut related their adventures truthfully from the very +beginning.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you where the Fox was taking you, my children," +said the Badger-mother; "There's a Wild Beast Show in +the town at this present moment, and Herr Kreutzen has +already enticed two or three animals into it. He is well +paid by the showman, and would have made a good thing +out of you, because you could have been taught to dance. +Oh, what a miserable fate you have escaped from!"</p> + +<p>Knut and Otto looked thoroughly ashamed of themselves, +and began to realize what their foolishness might have led +them into.</p> + +<p>However, no one could be miserable for long at a +time in the Badger family; they were all so happy and +light-hearted—so after a good dinner, the two little Bears +ran out into the garden, and forgot their troubles in a romp +with the children.</p> + +<p>"You did not know your old schoolmaster was a cousin +of ours?" remarked the Badger-mother, as they rested, +later on, under a shady fir tree. "He really is a worthy +creature at heart, and you ought all to try and put up with +him as much as possible."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We really <i>will</i>," cried the two little Bears heartily. +"If ever we get back again, we really <i>will</i>!" and they +thoroughly intended to keep their promises.</p> + +<p>"I think this evening you should start for home before +it grows dusk," said the Badger-mother. "Father will +see you well on your way, and your parents must be longing +to hear of you. Come into the house now, and I will make +you look respectable."</p> + +<p>Knut and Otto were all obedience, and followed the +Badger-mother meekly to the kitchen. Here she took +down two large scrubbing-brushes, and proceeded to give +them a thorough tidying. Then their faces were soaped, +and finally two of the young Badgers' caps were placed +upon their heads—for their own had fallen off when they +were upset into the river.</p> + +<p>The elastics were very tight under their chins, but they +refrained from saying anything—and this showed how +complete was their reformation!</p> + +<p>Just as all the preparations were completed, there came +a loud knock at the door; and the Schoolmaster himself +appeared, his clothes torn, one flap off his hat, a bandage +covering his right eye, leading in a little crowd of scholars +that he had collected with infinite toil from many perilous +positions.</p> + +<p>There were two Hedgehogs, a young Fox, five Badgers, +a Mole, and a tame Guinea-pig. All of them were more or +less scratched, and dismal looking; and some had evidently<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> +been in the water, for their clothes were still dripping, and +hung round them in the most uncomfortable manner.</p> + +<p>"What! <i>you</i> here, after all! Well, this is a happy +meeting!" cried Herr Badger, embracing the little Bears +warmly. "I wasn't going home till I'd found you—and +here you are. A most fortunate coincidence!"</p> + +<p>"Sit down, sit down, cousin," said the Badger-mother +hospitably. "Bring in the pupils, and let them dry their +hair before the fire—they seem in a sad state, poor things!"</p> + +<p>"They certainly <i>do</i> look a little untidy," said the Badger, +"but we shall soon remedy all that. I have been explaining +to the class (at least to as much as I've got of it)," he continued, +turning to Knut, "that the plan of the School is to +be entirely reformed—ten minutes' Arithmetic per day, and +History <i>once</i> weekly. What do you say to that, children?"</p> + +<p>A feeble cheer arose from the pupils; and the two little +Bears, throwing themselves upon their knees, begged their +Master's pardon for all the trouble they had caused him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER VII.</h3> + + +<p>Fru Bjornson, seated on a camp-stool by the side of the +entrance gate to her house, was looking anxiously around +her. Close by stood Ingold, with one eye tightly screwed +up, and an old-fashioned telescope in her hand, trying in +vain to adjust the focus.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What do you see now?" enquired the Bear-mother, +leaning forward.</p> + +<p>"A great fog with snakes in it!" replied the servant +truthfully.</p> + +<p>"Why, those are <i>trees</i>, of course!" said Fru Bjornson. +"Turn the screw a little more, and it will become as plain +as possible."</p> + +<p>Ingold twisted her hand several times rapidly, and again +applied her eye to the end.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't seem like snakes now, does it?" asked the +Bear-mother triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! It's turned to milk with green splashes in it," +said Ingold.</p> + +<p>"You don't see anything of my darling children, then?" +enquired Fru Bjornson.</p> + +<p>"Nothing at all, ma'am," said Ingold. "A telescope may +be a wonderful thing for those who haven't any eyes, but really +I think <i>I</i> see better <i>without</i> it."</p> + +<p>At this moment, through the trees, an extraordinary procession +came in sight; which caused the Bear-mother to +jump up from her seat with a cry of joy.</p> + +<p>Herr Badger, with his cloak thrown over one shoulder, +leading Knut and Otto by the hand; and behind them the +rest of the pupils in single file—depressed and gloomy, but +resigned to whatever Fate might have in store for them.</p> + +<p>Fru Bjornson ran forward, and clasped her children in +her arms.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was a happy meeting; and as she thought the Schoolmaster +would already have gone through all the scolding that +was necessary, she refrained from adding a word more.</p> + +<p>"I've got the class together, ma'am," said Herr Badger +triumphantly, "and I'm never going to let it go again! +The new School system commences from to-morrow!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>All the parents agreed that the children had been sufficiently +punished during their wanderings in the forest, and +they were therefore allowed to return to their homes, without +anything more being said on the subject.</p> + +<p>The next morning the scholars assembled at the School-house +in excellent time; but most of them unfortunately, +having lost their satchels, were obliged to carry their books +and luncheon, wrapped up in untidy brown paper parcels—which +was certainly very mortifying.</p> + +<p>"My dear pupils," commenced Herr Badger, as he entered +the room and bowed graciously, "on this auspicious occasion, +I wish to call the Arithmetic class for ten minutes +only. We will begin, if you please, with 'twice one'—repeating +it three times over <i>without a failure</i>!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Bobbies_Two_Shillings" id="Bobbies_Two_Shillings"></a>Bobbie's Two Shillings.</h2> + +<h4>A Guinea-Pig Story.</h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3> + + +<p>On a sloping lawn, before an old-fashioned, rambling +house, Bobbie and Jerry were playing at nine-pins +on a hot day in August.</p> + +<p>Under the shade of a cedar tree the under-nurse sat +working; and "Aunt Lucy"—an old lady with snow-white +hair, crowned by a black mushroom hat—was slowly pacing +the gravel walk, digging out a weed here and there with a +long spud she carried for the purpose.</p> + +<p>Jerry was only playing nine-pins because Bobbie was so +fond of them. She did not care for them herself, for she +thought that as she was ten years old they were too babyish, +but Bobbie was only eight, so of course it was not to be +expected of him that he would care for "grown-up" things.</p> + +<p>There was a pleasant buzzing in the air, as old Jeptha +Funnel led the donkey in the mowing machine, up and +down the wide lawn, pausing every now and then to exchange +a few words with the children.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p> + +<p>"When are you a-coming to tea with us, Master Bobbie, +and Missy?" he enquired, stopping to fan his heated face +with a red pocket-handkerchief. "James Seton's got some +guinea-pigs that he talks of bringing over for you to see, any +day as you'll fix upon."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that <i>is</i> nice. I do so long to have another!" cried +Bobbie rapturously. "I only want three-halfpence-farthing +more, and I shall have enough in my money-box to pay for +it. Will James wait till Friday?"</p> + +<p>"Of course he will, Master Bobbie; don't you worry your +head about that."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's an extraordinary thing, Jeptha, but you can't +think how I've been saving, and saving, and <i>saving</i> for that +guinea-pig; and it seems as if I never <i>should</i> have enough," +said Bobbie confidentially. "I saved up for 'Funnel'—the +one that's called after you, you know—in no time; but we +were up in Scotland then, and there wasn't hardly any +shops that I <i>could</i> spend my money in."</p> + +<p>"Things always <i>do</i> seem a long time a-coming when +you're longing for them, so to speak, day and night, sir."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's quite true that 'a watch-pocket never boils,'" said +Bobbie. "I shall leave off rattling the money-box, and try +and forget all about it till Friday."</p> + +<p>"You're right there, sir," said Jeptha, not noticing the new +rendering of the proverb, for he was as fond of long words +and sentences as Bobbie himself; "you come right up to +the cottage on Friday, along of nurse and Miss Jerry. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> +missus 'll have tea for you, and <i>I'll</i> see that Jim brings the +guinea-pigs."</p> + +<p>"Does James Seton know anything about cats?" enquired +Jerry eagerly. "You know they're <i>my</i> favourite animals—just +like guinea-pigs are Bobbie's—and I do want to get +some new recipes for my cat-book!"</p> + +<p>"Why whatever is a cat-book, Miss Jerry?" asked Jeptha +curiously.</p> + +<p>"Don't you know, Jeptha? I write down all sorts of +cures for cats, and what they ought to eat; and several +times it's been very useful to Miss Meadows and Maria."</p> + +<p>"I can't say <i>I</i> know much about the subject, Miss Jerry, +nor I don't think Jim doesn't, neither, never having made +a study of it, as you may say. Miss Meadders is the tabby +cat, ain't she? A very fine cat I call her."</p> + +<p>"Yes; I made a portrait of her and Maria, to send to +mamma out in India, and Bobbie made a picture of Funnel +(not <i>you</i>, you know). She liked them so much. Shall I +tell you why Bobbie is so interested in guinea-pigs?" continued +Jerry, taking the old man's hand, and speaking in a +mysterious whisper.</p> + +<p>"You know Jack belongs to the 'Cavey Club' at school, +where all the boys <i>must</i> keep guinea-pigs; and he wrote +Bobbie a letter last term with a picture of a guinea-pig on +the flap of the envelope, and 'Where is it?' written where +the tail ought to be. Ever since then Bobbie has been <i>mad</i> +after guinea-pigs."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, I can remember Master Jack a-walking in here +with ten of 'em," said Jeptha, "and keepin' 'em in the +lumber room in houses made out of cigar-boxes."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but Aunt Lucy found it out, and wouldn't allow +it," said Jerry. "They all had to be taken out to the +stable yard again."</p> + +<p>"I must own I think on <i>that</i> occasion yer Aunt was +reasonable, Miss Jerry; a guinea-pig don't seem a kind of +a domestic indoor animal—like a cat, for instance."</p> + +<p>"Will you have mufflings and crumfits for tea, do you think, +when we come?" enquired Bobbie, after a thoughtful pause. +"Excuse me asking you, but I do like them so very much."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Bobbie, you shouldn't say that!" cried Jerry, +reprovingly; "it's very impolite. Aunt Lucy would be +quite <i>horrified</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't <i>mean</i> anything rude," said Bobbie. "I +<i>do</i> like them, and I can't help it. I can't see why it's any +more rude than if I said I liked guinea-pigs."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3> + + +<p>The next day was a very wet one; and Aunt Lucy, coming +up into the schoolroom in the morning—as she invariably +did, even during the holidays—saw a most extraordinary +collection of baskets standing on the floor, in front of a +small fire of sticks blazing away in the fireplace.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was a large covered market basket, a fish bag with +a skewer through the top, and a small japanese basket, with +a lid which was kept in place by the poker and tongs laid +carefully over it.</p> + +<p>The baskets were all occasionally agitated from within; +and Aunt Lucy found on enquiry that they contained the +guinea-pig family, who having been flooded out of their +usual quarters by the rain, had been brought in to a fire by +Bobbie to be dried!</p> + +<p>"I really object to these animals in the house!" said +Aunt Lucy, trying to be severe; but Bobbie's face was so +pathetic, she did not order them to be taken out at once, +as she had at first intended.</p> + +<p>"As soon as they are dry you must move them away, +Bobbie," she continued; "I have had quite enough +trouble with Jack's. I can't have the house turned into +a menagerie."</p> + +<p>"Really, Aunt Lucy, you needn't mind Habbakuk and +Funnel—they are so very well behaved. I <i>have</i> been +debillerating whether I ought to bring in Pompey, because +his hair <i>streams</i> out—but he did look so cold and mis'rable, +I thought you wouldn't objec'."</p> + +<p>At this moment a housemaid came up to say there were +visitors in the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>"It is your two uncles from India," said Aunt Lucy, +taking Bobbie's reluctant hand. "They have come on +purpose to see you, so you must leave the guinea-pigs for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> +a minute—Jerry can stay with them, and come down as +soon as you return."</p> + +<p>Bobbie departed groaning, while the under-nurse good-naturedly +made up the fire, and began to dry the guinea-pigs +with an old duster.</p> + +<p>In a few minutes Bobbie returned, his fat round face red +with the exertion of scrambling upstairs, his brown eyes +sparkling.</p> + +<p>"What are they like?" enquired Jerry, who was not fond +of visitors, as Anne brushed at her curly hair, and tried in +vain to flatten it to the nursery regulation of smoothness.</p> + +<p>"Oh, two middle-aged, light gentlemen," replied Bobbie +carelessly. "One gave me a shilling to buy a guinea-pig, +so now I'm quite safe in telling James to bring them on +Friday." And Bobbie seated himself before the fire with +Habbakuk and Funnel on his knees, and rubbed away at +them vigorously.</p> + +<p>Jerry retired downstairs, but reappeared in a very short +time—rushing into the room again like a whirlwind.</p> + +<p>"What do you think the uncles have promised us, +Bobbie?" she cried excitedly; "guess the most beautifullest +thing you can possibly think of!"</p> + +<p>"Guin——" commenced Bobbie, and checked himself +hastily.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not!" said Jerry, with decision. "I said I +must run up and tell you, you'd be so <i>wild</i> with joy; it +begins with a 'P'—but it isn't 'pig.' Now guess again."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Prawns, p'rambulators, prongs, pastry," commenced +Bobbie rapidly. "Well, none of those are very nice except +pastry. I can't think of anything more, Jerry, you <i>must</i> +tell me."</p> + +<p>"Pantomime!" said Jerry, triumphantly; "<i>next Saturday!</i>—what +do you say to that?"</p> + +<p>Bobbie's eyes twinkled. "With preserved seats, like we +had last time! Oh, splendid!" and he began to caper +about the room with delight.</p> + +<p>"Well, this <i>has</i> been a day!" he exclaimed, as he sank +down, quite exhausted. "What a lot for my diary! I'd +better write it out at once, before I forget it."</p> + +<p>A large book, interleaved with blotting-paper, was disinterred +from the play-box, and Bobbie sat down before it +solemnly.</p> + +<p>The greater part of this book was filled with minute +accounts of what time its owner got up, and went to bed, +what pudding he had for dinner, and what lessons he learnt; +but on this occasion the entry assumed such large proportions +that it spread right over the next day, and was wandering +into "Friday," when Bobbie suddenly remembered the tea-party, +and that room must certainly be left for <i>that</i>!</p> + +<p>Jerry, looking over his shoulder, when he had finished, +read the following, adorned with many blots and smudges:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot">"Had sutch a day. 2 lite gentlemen who turnered into +Unkels ('You mean, "turned <i>out</i> to be uncles,"' corrected +Jerry) came And gave me 1 shiling for the brown ginny-pig<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> +I acepted with thanks they are goin to tak us Jerry and me +to the pantermine and tea at Mrs. Funnels on Fryday (not +the Unkels but nurs).<br /><br /> + +"P.S.—Plenty mor to say but no rume. cant put the +puding to-day."</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3> + + +<p>One of Bobbie's and Jerry's greatest treats was to have +tea at the cottage on the edge of the park, where old Mrs. +Funnel presided over a table covered with cakes and home-made +delicacies.</p> + +<p>She always liked them to appear in good time; so punctually +at four o'clock on Friday, the invited tea-party—consisting +of "Old Nurse," in a crackling black silk, Jerry in spotless +frilled cotton, and Bobbie in a white sailor's suit, bristling +with starch and pearl buttons—made their way through the +little garden of the Funnels' house, and rapped importantly +on the door with the end of nurse's umbrella.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Funnel, who had been awaiting the summons, +welcomed them heartily; and Bobbie was relieved to see—on +taking a cursory glance at the table—that besides the +usual array of good things, there was a covered dish, which +meant, as he knew by experience—muffins.</p> + +<p>Jeptha, in his Sunday coat, with a red geranium in his +button-hole, looked cheerfully conscious of his own splen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span>dour; +and his wife's little wrinkled face beamed with kindness +and hospitality.</p> + +<p>"Jim can't get away yet, I'm sorry to say," she said, +"but he'll be in afterwards. Sit down, all of you, please. +Draw up to the table, ma'am!"</p> + +<p>Bobbie deposited his dog-skin gloves carefully in his hat, +and seated himself solemnly, trying to keep his eyes off the +plum cake, for the sake of good manners.</p> + +<p>"This bread's a bit heavy, mother!" remarked Jeptha, +grappling with a large loaf in the centre of the table.</p> + +<p>"I don't know how that can be," replied Mrs. Funnel +cheerfully. "It rose enough."</p> + +<p>"Then it must ha' sat down again!" said Jeptha. "It's +that worritting oven, ma'am"—turning to nurse; "I assure +you we <i>do</i> have a time with it sometimes."</p> + +<p>The tea began merrily, and just in the middle of it the +door opened, and James Seton's sunburnt face looked in. +He carried a basket which Bobbie pounced upon eagerly, +for he knew it contained the long-expected guinea-pigs.</p> + +<p>Behind Jim stood a little woe-begone creature in a ragged +dress, her head covered by a large crumpled sun-bonnet. +The tears were rolling down her face, and in her hand she +held the bottom of a broken glass medicine bottle.</p> + +<p>"Look here, grandmother," said Jim, "I picked up this +unfort'net little mortal just outside the Lodge gates. She'd +been into town to buy some lotion for her sick mother, +and she went and fell up against a stone, and smashed her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> +bottle; and now she's in a terrible state of mind about it."</p> + +<p>The little girl was still crying bitterly; and Bobbie, who +was very tender-hearted, furtively wiped his eyes with the +back of his hand, and looked hard out of the window.</p> + +<p>"Sit you down, child, and have some tea. You're fair +worn out with misery," said Mrs. Funnel kindly. "After +that we'll think of what's to be done. How much did the +medicine cost, child?"</p> + +<p>"Two shillings," said the child, with a fresh burst of +sobbing.</p> + +<p>Bobbie discovered, to his great annoyance, that two large +tears had fallen down his own cheeks out of sympathy; and +at the same moment he seemed to feel his little wash-leather +purse growing so large, that he almost fancied in another +moment it would burst out of his pocket.</p> + +<p>Exactly two shillings were in it—the price of the bottle +of lotion, or of two of Jim's guinea-pigs! Which should +it be?</p> + +<p>"If only I hadn't bought Maria's collar last Monday, I +could have got you a bottle <i>easily</i>," cried Jerry, in great +distress. "I've only twopence-halfpenny left, but <i>do</i> take +it. Oh, you poor little girl, I <i>am</i> so sorry for you!"</p> + +<p>Bobbie felt very guilty, and his money seemed to weigh +upon him like lead. He watched the attractive brown +guinea-pigs—who had been let out of their basket—gambol +about the parlour. His mind was a chaos.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he snatched out his purse, and thrust the two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> +shillings into the little girl's hand, before she could say +anything.</p> + +<p>"Get the medicine, please," he said, in a gruff voice. "I +don't want the guinea-pigs, thank you, Jim." And opening +the door hurriedly, he darted off across the park towards home.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3> + + +<p>"I do think it was one of the goodest things I ever heard +of," said Jerry confidentially, as she drove with one of the +"light gentlemen" to the pantomime.</p> + +<p>She had just finished an account of Bobbie's heroic +sacrifice of the day before; and as Bobbie himself was +following in a hansom cab, with the other uncle, it was +quite safe to relate the whole story without fear of +interruptions.</p> + +<p>"He wanted those guinea-pigs <i>dreadfully</i>," continued +Jerry, "and he gave everything he had to the poor little +girl. He cried horribly about it, though. He was literally +<i>roaring</i> when we got back from Mrs. Funnel's tea, though +he went and hid himself so that we shouldn't know; but +nurse said his blouse was quite <i>damp</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Shall we go round on our way back, and order Bobbie +some new guinea-pigs, as a surprise?" asked Uncle Ronald, +who had listened to the story with all the respectful +sympathy expected of him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jerry gave a shriek of delight. "Oh, how <i>lovely</i>! May I +choose? I know just his favourite colours."</p> + +<p>As Bobbie took his usual stroll into the stable yard on +Monday morning, he was astonished to see Jeptha approaching +him with a large box on a wheelbarrow.</p> + +<p>"Summut for you, Master Bobbie. Come by rail; and +there seems to be a deal of moving about and squeaking +a-goin' on inside!"</p> + +<p>Bobbie unfastened the covers with feverish haste; and +there was a hutch such as he had never even <i>dreamt</i> of, +with a row of four little eager noses sticking out between +the bars.</p> + +<p>A label hanging to the wire said, "From the two light +gentlemen."</p> + +<p>"Well now, Master Bobbie, if ever I saw the like of that!" +cried Jeptha admiringly. "Why, they're all a-sittin' as +comfortable as you please, in a kind of a Eastern palace."</p> + +<p>Bobbie, who was almost delirious with delight and excitement, +ran in to fetch Jerry.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jerry, come out!" he cried. "The light gentlemen—in +a splendid blue cage with red stripes, come by +train! And such guinea-pigs! Just the kind I wanted—two +long-hair. Oh, I do think this is the splendidest day +of my life, and as long as I live I won't never forget it!"</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Soap-Bubble Stories, by Fanny Barry + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOAP-BUBBLE STORIES *** + +***** This file should be named 28263-h.htm or 28263-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/2/6/28263/ + +Produced by Marcia Brooks, Woodie4, David Edwards and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net +(This file was produced from images generously made +available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +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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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: Soap-Bubble Stories + For Children + +Author: Fanny Barry + +Release Date: March 6, 2009 [EBook #28263] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOAP-BUBBLE STORIES *** + + + + +Produced by Marcia Brooks, Woodie4, David Edwards and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net +(This file was produced from images generously made +available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + + + + Transcriber's notes: + Alternative spelling and hyphenation have been retained as + they appear in the original publication. Changes have been + made as follows: + + Page 125 on the top of a dias _changed to_ + on the top of a dais + + Page 131 tobogganned down a steep _changed to_ + tobogganed down a steep + + + + + SOAP-BUBBLE STORIES + + + + + Soap-Bubble Stories. + + FOR CHILDREN. + + BY + + _FANNY BARRY_, + + AUTHOR OF "THE FOX FAMILY," "THE OBSTINATE ELM LEAF," "THE BEARS + OF WUNDERMERK," ETC. + + New York: + + JAMES POTT & CO., 14 & 16, ASTOR PLACE. + + 1892. + + + + + TO + + VERA, ELSIE, + OSKAR, OLGA, ERIK, + NEVA, JESSIE, + LEO, DOROTHY, CLAUDE, + AND + HERBERT. + + + + +It was twilight, and the children, tired of playing, gathered round +the fire. + +Outside, the snow fell softly, softly; and the bare trees shook their +branches in the keen air. The pleasant glow of the blazing logs +lighted up the circle of happy faces, and peopled the distant corners +with elfin shadows. + +All the afternoon the children, pipe in hand, with soap suds before +them, had been blowing airy bubbles that caught the gleams of a +hundred flying rainbows--but now in the fading daylight, the pipes +were put aside, and they threw themselves down on the fur rug, and +looked with thoughtful eyes into the caverns of the fire. + +"What can we do now?" they cried, "Won't _you_ make us some bubbles?" + +And someone sitting in the shadow, who had watched and admired their +handiwork; whipped up some white froth in a fairy basin, and taking a +pipe, she blew them some bubbles. + +Not so beautiful as the children's own, with their pure reflections of +the light and sunshine--but the best she could fashion with the +materials she had at hand; for the only soap she could find was +Imagination, and her pipe was a humble black pen. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + PAGE + +THE TROLL IN THE CHURCH FOUNTAIN 1 + +THE IMP IN THE CHINTZ CURTAIN 13 + +HEARTSEASE 22 + +A STORY OF SIENA 27 + +THE STONE-MAIDEN 44 + +THE GRASS OF PARNASSUS 51 + +THE HEDGEHOGS' COFFEE PARTY 53 + +UNCLE VOLODIA 68 + +THE ANGEL AND THE LILIES 95 + +THE ALPEN-ECHO 100 + +THE SCROLL IN THE MARKET PLACE 103 + +A SCRAP OF ETRUSCAN POTTERY 109 + +THE GOATS ON THE GLACIER 114 + +THE GREAT LADY'S CHIEF-MOURNER 139 + +DAME FOSSIE'S CHINA DOG 142 + +PRINCESS SIDIGUNDA'S GOLDEN SHOES 161 + +THE BADGER'S SCHOOL 179 + +BOBBIE'S TWO SHILLINGS 203 + + + + +THE TROLL IN THE CHURCH FOUNTAIN. + + +CHAPTER I. + +It was a village of fountains. They poured from the sides of houses, +bubbled up at street corners, sprang from stone troughs by the +roadside, and one even gushed from the very walls of the old Church +itself, and fell with a monotonous tinkle into a carved stone basin +beneath. + +The old Church stood on a high plateau overlooking the lake. It jutted +out so far, on its great rock, that it seemed to overhang the +precipice; and as the neighbours walked upon the terrace on Sundays, +and enjoyed the shade of the row of plane trees, they could look down +over the low walls of the Churchyard almost into the chimneys of the +wooden houses clustering below. + +There were wide stone seats on the terrace, grey and worn by the +weather, and by the generations of children who had played round them; +and here the mothers and grandmothers, with their distaffs in their +hands, loved to collect on summer evenings. + +Often Terli had seen them from his home by the mountain torrent, for +he was so high up, he looked down upon the whole village; and he had +often longed to join them and hear what they were saying; but as he +was nothing but a River-Troll, he was not able to venture within sight +or sound of the water of the holy Church Fountain. + +Anywhere else he was free to roam; teazing the children, worrying the +women as they washed their clothes at the open stone basins, even +putting his lean fingers into the fountain spout to stop the water, +while the people remained staring open-mouthed, or ran off to fetch a +neighbour to find out what was the matter. + +This was all very pleasant to Terli, and at night he would hurry back +to his relations in their cave under the stones of the torrent, and +enjoy a good laugh at the day's adventures. + +There was only one thing that worried him. Several of the cleverest +old women of the village, who had on several occasions seen Terli +dancing about the country, agreed to hang a little pot of the Church +water in the doors of their houses; and once or twice the Troll, on +attempting to enter in order to teaze the inhabitants, had suddenly +caught sight of the water, and rushed away with a scream of rage and +disappointment. + +"Never River-Troll can stand the sight of the Church Fountain!" said +the old women, and rubbed their hands gleefully. + +In the early summer there was to be a great wedding at the old +Church, the Bridegroom the son of a rich farmer, the Bride one of the +young girls of the village; and Terli, who had known them both from +childhood, determined that for once in his life he would enter the +unknown region of the Church Terrace. + +"Elena has often annoyed me in the past," laughed Terli, "so it is +only fair I should try and annoy her in the future"--and he sat down +cross-legged at the bottom of a water trough to arrange his plans +quietly in seclusion. + +An old horse came by, dragging a creaking waggon, and the driver +stopped to allow the animal to drink. + +The Troll raised himself leisurely, and as the horse put in his head, +Terli seized it in both hands, and hung on so firmly that it was +impossible for the poor creature to get away. + +"Let go!" said the horse, angrily--for he understood the Troll +language. "Let me go! What are you doing?" + +"I shan't let you go till you make me a promise. You get the +Wood-Troll to cork up the Church Fountain at daybreak on Friday +morning, and I'll let you drink as much as you like now, and go +without hindrance afterwards." + +"I shan't promise," said the horse, crossly. "I don't see why I +should." + +"Well, I shall hang on till you _do_," said the Troll with a +disagreeable laugh; and he gripped the old horse more tightly than +ever. + +"Oh, leave off! I'm being suffocated. I'll promise anything," cried +the horse. + +[Illustration: "'LET GO!' SAID THE HORSE, ANGRILY. 'LET ME GO! WHAT +ARE YOU DOING?'"] + +Terli withdrew his hands immediately, sinking down to the bottom of +the trough with a chuckle that made the water bubble furiously; and +the old horse, without waiting to drink, trotted off with an activity +that surprised his master. + +"Remember your promise!" called the Troll, putting his head suddenly +over the edge of the trough, and pointing a thin finger. "On Friday at +daybreak the Church Fountain stopped, or you don't drink comfortably +for a twelve-month!" + + +CHAPTER II. + +Early on Friday morning the bridal procession started gaily, and all +the village folks were so occupied they never noticed that the Church +Fountain had ceased to bubble. + +The bells rang out; while the Troll, hidden in the branches of a tree +close to the entrance door, glanced first at the procession and then +at a wedge of wood sticking out of the stone mouth of the Fountain, +and he laughed elfishly. + +"Ha, ha! The old horse has kept his promise. This _is_ seeing the +world," he whispered triumphantly. + +The marriage ceremony was soon over, and as the newly-wedded pair +stepped out upon the terrace again, Terli drew from his pocket a +little jar of water, and _splash!_ fell some drops from it right in +the eyes of the Bride and Bridegroom. + +"It is beginning to rain! I saw the clouds gathering! Run, run, for +the nearest shelter!" cried everyone confusedly, and off dashed the +crowd, panting and breathless. + +Now it was an unfortunate thing, that after the wedding everything in +the new household seemed to go wrong. + +"The young people have had their heads turned," whispered the old +women, and the poor Bride looked pale and disconsolate. + +"It is a wretched house to have married into," she said to her mother. +"Nothing but these poor boards for furniture, no good fields or +garden--all so dull and disagreeable; and then my husband--he seems +always discontented. I think I was happier at home;" and she tapped +her foot impatiently. + +Her mother argued and remonstrated, and at last began to weep +bitterly. + +"You must be bewitched, Elena, to complain like this! You have +everything a reasonable girl can wish for." + +"Everything? Why I have _nothing_!" cried Elena angrily, and ran from +the room; leaving Terli, who was hiding in a water-bucket, to stamp +his feet with delight. + +"Ha! ha! it is going on excellently," he shouted in his little cracked +voice. "Once let them have the water from the Trolls' well in their +eyes, they'll never be contented again!" and he upset the bucket in +which he was standing over the feet of the Bride's mother, who had to +run home hastily to change her wet shoes. + +"This is the work of the River-Trolls, I believe," she said to +herself, as she held up her soaked skirts carefully. "I'll find out +all about it on St. John's Eve, if I can't do so before"--and she +nodded angrily towards the mountain torrent. + +Days passed, and the sad temper of the newly-married couple did not +improve. + +They scarcely attempted to speak to each other, and groaned so much +over the hardships of their life, that all their friends became tired +of trying to comfort them. + +"They're bewitched," said the Bride's mother, "bewitched, and nothing +else. But wait till St. John's Eve, and you'll see I shall cure them." + +She spoke mysteriously, but as she was a sensible woman everyone +believed her. + +On St. John's Eve--as I daresay you know--all animals have the power +of talking together like human beings, and punctually as the clock +struck twelve the Bride's mother put on her thick shoes, and taking +the stable lantern from its nail, she went off to the stable, refusing +to allow either her husband or son to accompany her. + +As she entered the door of the outhouse, she heard the oxen already +whispering to each other, and the old horse, with his head over the +division, addressing friendly remarks to a family of goats close by. + +"Do you know anything of Terli or the Wood-Trolls?" enquired the old +woman, looking at the oxen severely. + +"No, no, no!" and they shook their heads slowly. + +The Bride's mother then repeated her question to the goat family, who +denied any knowledge of the Trolls with a series of terrified bleats. + +"There is only _you_, then," said the Bride's mother to the old horse. +"You have served us faithfully, and we have been kind masters to you. +Tell me: do you know anything of Terli or the Wood-Trolls?" + +"I do," said the old horse with dignity. "I can tell you more than +anyone else dreams of;" and he stepped from his stall with an air of +the greatest importance. + +The old woman sat down upon an upturned stable-bucket, and prepared to +listen. + +"Just before the wedding," commenced the horse, "I was passing through +the village with old master, when we stopped to drink. No sooner had I +got my nose into the Fountain than, _heuw!_ Terli had hold of me, and +not an inch would he loosen his grip till I promised to let him see +the wedding by getting the Wood-Trolls to stop up the Church Fountain. +What was I to do? I was forced to agree, and from that promise comes +all the misery of the Bride and Bridegroom." + +The old horse then went on to explain what Terli had done on the +wedding day, while the Bride's mother jumped up from the water-bucket +with a cry of delight. + +"All will be well now. You have done us the greatest possible service, +and shall live in leisure for the rest of your life," she said; and +ran out of the stables towards the house, before the astonished +animals could recover themselves. + +"I've found it all out," she cried to her husband. "Now all we have to +do is to catch Terli." + +"Not so easy, wife," said the Bride's father, but the old woman smiled +in a mysterious manner. + +"Leave it to me, husband, _I_ shall manage it. Our children will be +happy again to-morrow, you will see." + + +CHAPTER III. + +The next day at sunrise, the Bride's mother crept off secretly to the +Church Fountain and brought back a large pailful of the water. This +she emptied into a wash-tub and covered with some green pine branches, +and on the top of all she placed a wooden bowl half filled with +butter-milk. + +"Terli likes it so much--he will do anything for butter-milk," she +said to herself, as she propped open the kitchen door, and went off +with a light heart to see her daughter. + +She carried with her a jug of the Church water, and when she arrived +at the farm house, she gave it to her daughter and son-in-law, and +begged them to bathe their eyes with it immediately. + +With much grumbling they obeyed her; but what a change occurred +directly they had done so! + +The day, which had seemed cloudy and threatening rain, now appeared +bright and hopeful. The Bride ran over her new house with exclamations +of delight at all the comfortable arrangements, and the Bridegroom +declared he was a lucky man to have married a good wife, and have a +farm that anyone might reasonably be proud of! + +"How could we ever have troubled over anything?" said the young Bride, +"I can't understand it! We are young, and we are happy." + +The old woman smiled wisely. "It was only the Troll's well-water," +she said, and went home as fast as her feet would carry her. + +As she neared her own door, she heard sounds of splashing and +screaming in a shrill piping voice; and on entering, saw Terli +struggling violently in the tub of Church water, the little bowl of +butter-milk lying spilt upon the floor. + +"Take me out! Take me out! It gives me the toothache!" wailed the +Troll, but the Bride's mother was a wise woman, and determined that +now she had caught their tormentor she would keep him safely. + +[Illustration: "TAKE ME OUT! TAKE ME OUT! IT GIVES ME THE +TOOTH-ACHE!"] + +"I've got the toothache in every joint!" shouted Terli. "Let me out, +and I'll _never_ tease you any more." + +"It serves you very well right," said the old woman, and she poured +the contents of the tub--including Terli--into a large bucket, and +carried it off in triumph to the Church Fountain. + +Here she emptied the bucket into the carved stone basin, and left +Terli kicking and screaming, while she went home to the farmhouse to +breakfast. + +"That's a good morning's work, wife; if you never do another:" said +the Bride's father, who had come into the kitchen just as Terli upset +the bowl of butter-milk, and fell through the pine branches headlong +into the tub beneath. "We shall live in peace and quietness now, for +Terli was the most mischievous of the whole of the Troll-folk." + +The words of the Bride's father proved to be quite true, for after the +capture of the Water-Troll the village enjoyed many years of quietness +and contentment. + +As to Terli, he lived in great unhappiness in the Church Fountain; +enduring a terrible series of tooth-aches, but unable to escape from +the magic power of the water. + +At the end of that time, however, a falling tree split the sides of +the carved stone basin into fragments, and the Troll, escaping with +the water which flowed out, darted from the Churchyard and safely +reached his old home in the bed of the mountain torrent. + +"The Church Fountain is broken, and Terli has escaped," said the good +folks the next morning--and the old people shook their heads gravely, +in alarm--but I suppose Terli had had a good lesson, for he never +troubled the village any more. + +[Illustration: The troll] + + + + +THE IMP IN THE CHINTZ CURTAIN. + +He was a wicked-looking Imp, and he lived in a bed curtain. + +No one knew he was in the house, not even the master and mistress. The +little girl who slept in the chintz-curtained bed was the only person +who knew of his existence, and she never mentioned him, even to her +old nurse. + +She had made his acquaintance one Christmas Eve, as she lay awake, +trying to keep her tired eyes open long enough to see Santa Klaus come +down the chimney. The Imp sprang into view with a _cr-r-r-ick, +cr-r-r-ack_ of falling wood in the great fireplace, and there he stood +bowing to Marianne from the left-hand corner of the chintz curtain. + +A green leaf formed his hat, some straggling branches his feet; his +thin body was a single rose-stem, and his red face a crumpled +rose-bud. + +A flaw in the printing of the chintz curtain had given him life--a +life distinct from that of the other rose leaves. + +"You're lying awake very late to-night--what's that for?" he enquired, +shaking the leaf he wore upon his head, and looking at Marianne +searchingly. + +"Why, don't you see I'm waiting for Santa Klaus?" replied Marianne. +"I've always missed him before, but this time _nothing_ shall make me +go to sleep!" She sat up in bed and opened her eyes as widely as +possible. + +"He has generally been here before this," said the Imp. "I can +remember your great-aunt sleeping in this very bed and being in just +the same fuss. I got down and danced about all night, and she thought +I was earwigs." + +"_I_ should never think you were an earwig--you're too pink and +green--but don't talk, I can hear something buzzing." + +"Santa Klaus doesn't buzz," said the Chintz Imp. "He comes down +_flop!_ Once in your aunt's time, I knew him nearly stick in the +chimney. He had too many things in his sack. You should have heard how +he struggled, it was like thunder! Everyone said how high the wind +was." + +"I hope he won't do it to-night," said Marianne, "I could never pull +him down by myself!" + +As she spoke the room seemed to be violently shaken, and there was a +sound of falling plaster, followed by some loud kicks. + +"Whew--w!" cried the Chintz Imp, "he's done it again!" + +Marianne started up in great excitement. She sprang from her bed, and +ran towards the old-fashioned fireplace. + +Nothing was at first to be seen; but as the fire had died down to a +few hot embers, Marianne could, by craning her head forwards, look +right up into the misty darkness of the great chimney. + +There, to her astonishment, she saw a pair of large brown-covered feet +hanging down helplessly; while a deep voice from above cried-- + +"Get me out of this, or I shall break down the chimney!" + +"Oh, what _am_ I to do?" exclaimed Marianne anxiously, "I'm not tall +enough to reach you! Shall I fetch my Aunt Olga, or would you prefer +my old nurse?" + +"Certainly not," said the voice, with decision. "I have never been +seen by a grown-up person, and I don't intend to begin now. Either you +must get me down by yourself, or I shall manage to work out at the top +again--and then I'm sorry to say you'll have to go without your +presents." + +Marianne sat down on the hearthrug in a state of anxious +consideration. There waved the great brown feet, and two or three +steps would land them safely on the hearthrug, but how could it +possibly be managed? + +The Chintz Imp curled up his green legs and sat down beside her, his +bright red eyes blinking thoughtfully. + +"We must hang on to him," he said at last; "or what do you say to my +trying to collect a dozen or so children, to pull?" + +"Why they'd all be in bed hours ago," said Marianne. "Besides, their +parents would never let them come, and Uncle Max would want to know +whatever we were doing." + +"Yes. I see _that_ idea is no good. Have you such a thing as a +pocket-knife?" enquired the Chintz Imp. + +"A beauty," said Marianne; "four blades, a button-hook, and a +corkscrew." + +"Ah, the corkscrew might be of some use if we could draw him out with +it; but he might object. However, I'll try what I can do with the +knife." + +"You won't cut him! You'll have to be very careful!" + +"Of course," said the Chintz Imp. "Do you think I am as old as your +great-aunt, without knowing much more than _you_ do! Bring me the +knife. I'm going to swarm up the chimney and scratch away the mortar. +Leave it entirely to me, and Santa Klaus will be down here in an hour +or two!" + +Marianne ran off to her little play box, and returned with the knife. +It was almost as large as the Chintz Imp, but he possessed so much +wiry strength in his thin arms and backbone that he was able to +clamber up the chimney without difficulty. + +"Are you all right?" cried Marianne, standing with her bare feet on +the edge of the stone fender, and holding up the night-light as high +as she could without singeing Santa Klaus. + +"Getting up," replied the Chintz Imp, "but he's in very tight!" + +"Is it his sack that's stuck?" enquired Marianne, anxiously. + +"Yes, yes! It's only my sack!" cried the deep voice; "you get that +loose, and I shall drop into the room like a fairy." + +Marianne strained her eyes up the chimney, but could see nothing. + +"Take care! Here's a lot of plaster falling!" + +The warning was just in time, for, as Marianne's head disappeared, a +handful of cement fell rattling into the fireplace, just escaping her +bare feet as she jumped on to the hearthrug. + +"The knife does beautifully," cried the voice of the Chintz Imp. "I +think when I've loosened this paint box, he'll fall down immediately." + +"Oh, do be careful!" said Marianne. "A paint box is what I've been +longing for! Don't chip it if you can possibly help it!" + +"Of course I shan't," replied the Chintz Imp. "If he wouldn't kick so +much, I should get him out in half the time." + +"I'm not kicking," cried Santa Klaus's voice indignantly. "I've been +as still as a rock, even with that horrid penknife close to my ear the +whole time." + +"Have a little patience," said the Chintz Imp soothingly. "I promise +not to hurt you." + +Marianne began to feel very cold. The excitement, so far, had buoyed +her up; but now the monotonous _chip, chipping_ of the Chintz Imp +continued so long that she jumped into her chintz-curtained bed, +determined to stay there until something new and interesting called +her up again. + +"I can't do any good, so I may as well be comfortable," she thought, +and pulled the eider-down quilt up to her chin luxuriously. + +"I _hope_ he'll get out! It _would_ be a disappointment to have that +paint-box taken away again. Perhaps it would be given to someone who +wouldn't care for it. I wonder if it's tin, with moist colours? I must +ask Uncle Max to have that chimney made wider----" At this point +Marianne's eyes closed and she fell asleep. + +She was awakened by a loud _thump!_ that seemed to shake the very bed +in which she was lying; and as she sprang up in a state of great +excitement, she saw Santa Klaus picking himself up from the hearthrug +on which he had apparently fallen with great violence. + +"Oh dear!" cried Marianne, "I hope you are not hurt? How careless of +the Chintz Imp to throw you down like that!" + +"It was no one's fault but my own," said Santa Klaus as he dusted the +remains of soot and plaster off his brown cloak. "I should have +remembered my experience with your great-aunt, but I knew how much you +wanted that paint-box," and he slipped into Marianne's stocking a +japanned box with a whole sheaf of paint brushes. + +"Oh, thank you, Santa Klaus! You can't think how I've wished for it; +my own is such a horrid little thing. And those beautiful pictures for +my scrap-book, and the things for the doll's house--and I _really_ +believe that's the book of fairy tales I've been longing for for +months!" + +Marianne's face shone with delighted expectation as she opened the top +of her stocking and peeped in. + +"Not till the morning," cried Santa Klaus; "you know my rule," and +patting Marianne on the head, he disappeared, with his sack much +lightened, up the chimney. + +"Oh, do come here!" cried Marianne to the Chintz Imp. "I must talk to +somebody." + +"I think you certainly _ought_ to talk to me," said the Chintz Imp, +coming carefully down the brickwork, hand over hand, and laying the +knife down in the fender. "Without me you wouldn't have had a single +present." + +"Of course, I'm very grateful," said Marianne. "I wish he had brought +you something, though I'm sure I don't know what would be useful to +you." + +"Well, I should like a good many things," replied the Chintz Imp, +perching himself on a brass knob at the end of the bedstead, "and one +or two I think you can get me easily. I'm tired of this room and the +little society I see, and I long for the great world. Can't you get me +put on a settee in the Servants' Hall, or somewhere lively?" + +"I'll ask Aunt Olga," said Marianne. "She promised me a Christmas +present, and I was to choose. Suppose I choose new bed curtains?" + +"Certainly," said the Chintz Imp, "but be sure you bargain to hang me +in some cheerful place. Sixty years in one room is too much of a good +thing--I want a change!" and he stretched himself wearily. + +"I really will do my best for you," said Marianne. "I'm afraid you're +too faded for the drawing-room, but I won't have new curtains until I +can see you put somewhere nice. I suppose you wouldn't like the +passages?" + +"Decidedly not," replied the Chintz Imp. "Dull places. No fun, and +nothing going on. The Servants' Hall, or stay where I am!" He folded +his green arms with determination. + +"I'm sure I can manage it," said Marianne, and fell asleep again while +she was arranging the words in which she should make the suggestion to +Aunt Olga. + +The next day Marianne awoke betimes, and immediately inspected the +contents of her stocking. + +There, stuffed clumsily inside it, was everything she had been wishing +for during the year, and more too! + +"Do come and look at my things!" cried Marianne to the Chintz Imp, but +he remained rigidly against his shiny spotted background and refused +to move, though Marianne thought she saw a twinkle in his eye, which +showed he was not quite so impassive as he appeared to be. + +"I'll try and get him put into the Servants' Hall as soon as +possible," she thought. "It makes me quite nervous to think he may +pounce upon me any minute. Besides, one must keep one's promises! How +extraordinary it is he can make himself so perfectly flat." + +As soon as she was dressed she ran down to the dining room. + +"Dear Aunt Olga, I've got such quantities of things to show you!" she +cried, "and as you said I might choose, may I please have new chintz +to my bed, and no pattern on it, so that it can't come out and be +Imps--I mean, have funny shapes on it. And may my old curtains be put +in the Servants' Hall? He says it will be more cheerful for him, and +though, of course, he's been very kind to me, I think I would rather +he went somewhere else. Besides, it _is_ dull for him up there, all by +himself--I mean, it would be dull for _any_ kind of chintz." + +"I do think Santa Klaus has got into your head, Marianne!" said Aunt +Olga, laughing; but she promised to buy the new curtains. + +In course of time they arrived--the palest blue, with little harmless +frillings to them; and the old chintz was carried off to the Servants' +Hall to make a box cover. + +There it still hangs, and if you stoop down and examine it closely, +you will see the Chintz Imp looking more lively than ever, with his +green hat on one side, and a twinkling red eye on the watch for any +sort of amusement. + +Marianne often goes to see him, but, rather to her disappointment, he +looks the other way, and appears not to recognize her. + +"Perhaps it's just as well," she says to herself, "for he seems very +happy, and if the servants knew he was here I believe they would turn +him out immediately." + + + + +HEARTSEASE. + +The three-cornered scrap of garden by the elm tree, with a border of +stones, and a neat trodden path down the middle, belonged to little +Bethea. + +It grew things in a most wonderful way. Stocks and marigolds, +primroses and lupines, Canterbury bells and lavender; all came out at +their different seasons, and all flourished--for Bethea watered and +tended them so faithfully that they loved her. + +[Illustration: "BETHEA WATERED AND TENDED THEM SO FAITHFULLY THAT THEY +LOVED HER."] + +On a soft spring day Bethea stood by her garden with scissors and +basket, snipping away at the brightest and best of her children; +carefully, so that she might not hurt them, and with judgment, so that +they might bloom again when they wished to. + +"Do you know where you're going?" she said--"To the Hospital. +Grandmamma's going to take me, and you're being gathered to cheer up +the sick people there--aren't you pleased?" And the flowers nodded. + +"I don't suppose I shall be picked. I don't think I'm good enough!" +whispered a very small purple pansy, who had only recently been +planted, to a beetle who happened to be crawling by. "I should like +to go with the others, though I don't suppose it would cheer anyone to +see me, I'm not light enough!" + +"Don't be too sure," said the beetle solidly. "You've a nice velvety +softness about you, and then you have the best name of them all. What +sick person wouldn't like to have Heartsease?" + +"I think I've got enough now," said Bethea, as she laid the last +primula in her basket. + +"Oh, do take me!" cried the pansy, touching her little brown shoe with +one of its leaves to attract her attention, "I do want to help!" and +Bethea stooped down, she scarcely knew why, gathered it, and put it +with the rest of her flowers. + +The drive to the Hospital was along a dusty country road, and the +flowers under their paper covering, gasped for breath. + +As soon as they arrived, Bethea, following her grandmother, carried +them up to the room where children were lying in the little white +beds, and gave them to the woman who was in charge of it. + +"Please would you mind putting them in water for the children," she +said in her soft voice, and the woman smiled and nodded. + +Bethea took a few of the flowers out, and went round to the different +beds offering one or two, shyly, until she came to a thin pale boy--a +new patient, whom she had never seen before. + +"He's only been here a fortnight," said the woman in a whisper, "and +we can't get him to take any interest in anything--I don't know what +we're going to do with him!" + +"Is he very ill?" asked Bethea, wistfully. + +"No, not so bad as some. A crooked leg, that will get well in time if +only we can wake him up a little." + +"I'm so sorry I have nothing but this flower left," said Bethea, as +she stooped over the boy's curly head, and gave him the small purple +pansy. + +"Oh, I wish I was more beautiful!" sighed the little dark flower. +"_Now_ would be an opportunity to do some good in the world!" + +The boy turned wearily, but his face lighted up as he saw the pansy. +His eyes brightened and he seized it eagerly. + +"Heartsease! Oh, it's like home. We've lots of that growing in our +garden. I always had some on Sundays!" he cried. "Do let me keep it. +It seems just a bit of home--a bit of home--a bit of home." + +He murmured it over and over again, as if there was rest and happiness +in the very sound of it. + +"I'll keep fresh as long as ever I can," said the pansy, "It's the +least I can do for him, poor fellow!" + +"At all events the flowers are all out of my own garden," said Bethea, +sitting down by the white bed, and then she talked away so gently that +the boy's weary face smoothed out, and he went to sleep. + +In a few days' time Bethea begged her grandmother to let her go again +to the hospital, and she persuaded the gardener to give her a +beautiful bunch of pansies to take to the sick boy. + +As she entered the room, she saw that the little purple pansy was +standing in a tumbler of water, on a chair by the boy's bed. + +Its head hung over on one side, but it looked quite fresh and healthy. + +"Hasn't it lasted well?" said the boy, happily. He looked much better +and spoke in a loud, cheerful voice. "It's been talking to me about +all sorts of things! the country, and gardens, and springtime, and +being out and about in the fresh air and sunshine!" + +"Well, I certainly have tried to make myself as pleasant as possible," +said the pansy, but it spoke so low that nobody heard it except the +boy whose ears were sharpened by illness. + +"I've brought you some more," said Bethea, holding out her bouquet, +"shall I put them in the tumbler with the little one?" + +"Oh, no!" cried the boy anxiously, "I think if you don't mind I'd +rather you gave those to some of the other children. I can't like any +fine new flowers as well as that little fellow. I feel as if he had +made me well again!" + +The pansy expanded with pride, and a tear of gratitude rolled out of +its eye, and fell with a splash on the cane chair-seat. + +"I'm going to have it dried in my old pocket book, when it's really +withered," continued the boy, "and then I shall be able to look at it +always." + +When little Bethea next visited the hospital, the boy with the crooked +leg was just leaving; but his leg was not crooked any longer; his face +was bright and healthy, and safely buttoned up in his coat he carried +a shabby old pocket book, in which lay a withered flower, with one +word written underneath in large pencilled letters--"_Heartsease_." + + + + +A STORY OF SIENA. + + +CHAPTER I. + +The house stands on a hill on the outskirts of Siena, not far from the +high red walls that still enclose the town, as entirely as they did in +the times long passed by, when Siena was the powerful rival of +Florence. + +Old frescoes, and the stone coats-of-arms of the dead and gone rulers +of the place, decorate the great gates; which seem only waiting for a +troop of knights and soldiers to pass through, and with a blast of +their bugles awake the ancient inhabitants of the crooked streets, and +fill them once more with the picturesque crowds of the middle ages. + +We can imagine that the old owners are but lying asleep in their many +storied gothic palaces, their vaulted courtyards, and shady loggias; +ready to rub their eyes and come out as they hear the well-known +sounds ringing across the wide piazza. + +But the knights never come, and the old people go on sleeping; and the +new people walk about the streets, and haggle at the market, and drive +their country carts with the great patient white oxen, and crowd on +Sunday up the broad Cathedral steps to kneel in the dim light before +the lighted altar, as generations have done before them. + +All round the town stretches the open country. Low sandy hills dotted +with olive and cyprus trees, melting into a blue sweep of mountains; +and about a mile from one of the gates stands the rambling white house +with closed shutters in which Maddalena, the housekeeper, lived alone +with her two grandchildren. + +She was a kind old woman and fond of the twins, who had been left +orphans when they were mere babies, but she often thought that surely +no grandmother had ever been plagued before, as she was plagued by +Tuttu and Tutti. + +"When they were infants it was easy enough," she would declare to a +sympathizing neighbour. "Give them a fig or something to play with, +and they were perfectly happy; but at times now I am tempted to wish +they had no legs, what with accidents and mischief.--Not that they're +not fine children, and may be a comfort to my old age, but it's a +harassing thing, waiting." + +It was certainly a fact that Tuttu and Tutti were constantly in +mischief; and yet their curly black heads, red cheeks, and great brown +eyes, were so attractive, that people--even those whose property had +been seriously injured by them--treated them leniently, and let them +off with a scolding. + +The twins were always repentant after one of their misfortunes, and +made serious promises of amendment; but at the next temptation they +forgot all their good resolutions, and never remembered them until +they were in disgrace again. + +Grandmother Maddalena devised numerous punishments for the children, +such as tacking a cow's head cut out of red stuff, on their backs, +when they had teazed Aunt Eucilda's cow--or tieing them up by one leg, +with a long cord to the table, for stone-throwing; but Tuttu and Tutti +were incorrigible. + +They wept loudly, embraced their grandmother, made all kinds of +promises--and the next day went off to do just the same things all +over again. + +There was only one person who had any influence over them, Father +Giacomo, the priest of the little Church of Sancta Maria del Fiore, +close by. He had known them from the time they were helpless babies in +swaddling clothes, till they grew to be mischievous creatures in +homespun trousers; and in every stage of character and clothing he had +borne with them, taught them, played with them, and loved them, until +the _Padre_ had become their idea of all that was wise and good, and +they would do more for the sake of pleasing him than for anyone in the +world, not even excepting their grandmother. + +Every Sunday afternoon Father Giacomo called to take them for a walk, +the one only sure way of keeping them out of mischief; and sometimes +to their great delight they would go along the olive-bordered road to +Siena, returning in the evening to the _Padre's_ house, in time to +have a good game with the two cats Neri and Bianca, who had lived +there since their infancy, as important members of the household. + +On their eighth birthday, Tuttu and Tutti assured their grandmother +that they really intended to reform. They promised faithfully to give +up tree climbing, fishing in the pond, and many other favourite +sports, and commenced to dig in the piece of kitchen garden under +their grandmother's direction. In fact so zealous did Tuttu become +that he borrowed a knife from one of the farm labourers who was vine +pruning, and cut the whole of the branches off a vine near the house, +ending with a terrible gash in his own thumb, which necessitated his +being carried in an ox-cart to the hospital in Siena, supported in his +grandmother's arms; while Tutti walked behind weeping bitterly, under +the impression that the doctor would certainly kill Tuttu this time +for his carelessness. + +Tuttu was not killed, however. The cut was sewn up, while the ox-cart +with its good-natured driver waited outside, and the depressed party +returned home, grandmother Maddalena clasping her little earthen pot +full of hot wood ashes, which even in the excitement of the accident +she had not forgotten to take with her, for it was a cold day in early +springtime.[A] + +[A] A _scaldino_, carried about by all the Siennese women, and used in +the house instead of a fire. + +Tutti was allowed to ride home in the cart, and sat holding Tuttu's +hand, his eyes round with solemnity, the traces of tears still on his +cheeks. + +That night he went to sleep with his arm thrown round Tuttu's neck, +his curly head resting against his shoulder--and though Tuttu was +cramped and uncomfortable, and his thumb pained him, he remained +heroically still until he also dropped asleep, and the two little +brothers dreamed peacefully of pleasant things until the morning. + + +CHAPTER II. + +"Well, thank Heaven! those children are safe for the present," said +Maddalena, as she sat on a stone bench in the sun, with the dark +clipped cyprus hedge behind her. + +To the right rose the stuccoed _Palazzo_, with its great stone +coat-of-arms hanging over the entrance, and inside, a peep of the +shady courtyard, with green tubs of orange trees, and the twinkle of a +fountain that shot up high into the sunshine, and fell with a splash +into a marble basin. + +Maddalena, in her broad Tuscan hat with its old-fashioned black +velvet--for she would never give in to the modern innovations of +flowers and ostrich feathers--held her distaff in her hand, and as she +twisted the spindle and drew out the thread evenly, she thought with +satisfaction of the improved behaviour of the twins. + +Ever since the accident they had been different creatures, and she +wondered how long it would be before they could be apprenticed to some +useful trade, and begin to bring in a little money. + +"When I can get hold of the Padre alone I'll ask him about it; but he +really does spoil these boys till I don't know which tyrannizes over +him most--the two cats or the two children!" + +Maddalena's reflections were suddenly interrupted at this point by the +appearance of her grandchildren from the back of the yew hedge by +which she was sitting--Tuttu on all fours, neighing like a horse, with +Tutti on his back, blowing a clay whistle. + +"We're only doing 'cavalry,' grandmother," gasped Tuttu, with a +scarlet face, attempting to prance in a military manner. + +"Cavalry!" cried Maddalena, starting up. "Those children will be the +death of me. Cavalry indeed! Look at your trousers, you disgrace. All +the knees yellow sand, and the elbows in holes!" and she seized her +distaff and waved it at them threateningly. + +To avoid his grandmother's arm, Tuttu hastily scrambled under the +stone seat, but his unfortunate rider thrown off his balance, fell +head first against the earthen _scaldino_, which was broken, and its +ashes scattered on the path in all directions. + +When Tuttu, lying flat with only his head visible, saw this terrible +misfortune; he crawled out from his hiding-place, and taking Tutti's +hand helped him to get up, and stood courageously in front of his +grandmother. + +"It was all my fault, grandmother. Don't scold him! I made him do it, +and I'm so sorry," he said, with a quiver in his voice, but Maddalena +was too angry to listen to him. She had thrown her distaff on the +ground, and was picking up the pieces of the yellow _scaldino_ to see +if it could possibly be fitted together again. + +"Go in both of you to bed," she called out without looking up, "and +don't let me see either of you again to-day! Just when I had a +moment's peace too, thinking you were at the Padre's. It really is too +much." + +Tutti burst into loud sobs of terror and remorse, but Tuttu took him +by the hand and, without speaking, led him away to the house. + +"Why don't you cry, too, Tuttu?" asked Tutti, stopping his tears to +look in astonishment at his brother. + +"I'm too old," said Tuttu. "Grandmother's quite right, we do behave +badly to her." And that was the beginning of a new era for Tuttu. + +The next day as soon as he was awake, he began to think seriously over +any possible way by which he could earn enough money to buy a new +_scaldino_. He dressed hurriedly and ran off to talk it over with +Father Giacomo, and the result of the conference was a long but kind +lecture of good advice, and permission to weed in the Padre's garden +for the sum of one halfpenny for a large basketful. + +Tuttu danced about with delight. "Why, I shall earn the money in no +time at that rate," he cried, "and I'll buy the best _scaldino_ in +Siena!" + +He felt that he must commence work immediately, and in the evening he +staggered into Father Giacomo's, with a scarlet face, carrying a great +hamper of green stuff. + +When he had a little recovered himself, he unfolded to his old friend +another plan he had thought of during the day, which he was quite sure +would please his grandmother. + +"I've got a broken _fiasco_ that the gardener's given me," he said, +"and I and Tutti mean to put a bean each into it every day we are +really good. Then, at the end of the month--a whole month, mind!--we +might take it up to grandmother." + +Father Giacomo highly approved of this idea, and encouraged the +children by every means in his power; so that, for more than three +weeks, the beans went in regularly and the halfpence in Tuttu's store, +which he kept like a magpie hidden away in a crack of the woodwork, +increased rapidly. + +Old Maddalena had long ago forgiven the children, for though she was +often angry with them, she loved them really. She guessed that Tuttu +was determined to replace the _scaldino_, as on several occasions he +had not been able to resist a veiled hint on the subject; but she +pretended perfect ignorance, and the two little boys might whisper and +laugh to their heart's content--it was quite certain she never heard +anything! + +One soft evening in May, Tuttu came into the Palazzo garden in a state +of great excitement. His last basket of weeds had been handed in to +Father Giacomo, and the entire sum for the _scaldino_ lay in small +copper pieces in a crumpled scarlet pocket handkerchief. + +"It's all here," whispered Tuttu, one great smile stretching across +his good-tempered little face. "Every penny of it!--Shall it be brown +or yellow? It must have a pattern. We'll go into Siena to-morrow and +buy it." + +"To Siena!" said Tutti in an awe-struck whisper, "We've never been +there by ourselves." + +"Never mind, we're older now," replied Tuttu. "Don't you say anything +about it, it's to be a surprise from beginning to end." + +Tutti agreed, as he always did with his brother. Of course Tuttu knew +best, and it would sure to be all right. + + +CHAPTER III. + +They started early in the morning, having put on their holiday clothes +and brushed themselves; and as Bianca, who had come over from the +Padre's house, insisted on following them, they tied a string to her +red collar and determined to let her share the pleasure of their visit +to the "great town." + +Their grandmother was still sleeping, but they left word with the +gardener's boy that they had gone into Siena "on business." + +This sounded well, Tuttu thought, and would disarm suspicion. + +The walk along the dusty high road was long and tiring, and they were +glad when they arrived safely in the Piazza, where the market people +had already begun to collect, for it was market day. + +Tuttu carried his precious earnings tied up with intricate knots in +the handkerchief, and stowed away in the largest of his pockets. He +walked with conscious pride, knowing that he was a person of +"property," and entering the pottery shop at the corner of the Piazza, +began to cunningly tap the _scaldinos_, and peer into them; while +Tutti stood by, lost in admiration at his brother's acuteness. + +Finally, a brown pot, with yellow stripes and spots, was chosen and +paid for, wrapped in the red handkerchief, and carried off in triumph +towards the Porta Camolla. + +"Whatever will grandmother say!" cried Tuttu, almost shouting for joy, +"I wish I could run all the way. There'll be a big bean in the +_fiasco_ for each of us to-night, won't there, Tutti?" + +"You've got a little money left, haven't you, Tuttu?" enquired Tutti, +who was always practical; "Couldn't we buy some cakes. I really feel +very hungry." + +"Certainly not," said Tuttu, firmly, "I shall put it inside the +_scaldino_ for grandmother. That'll be the second surprise. Don't you +see, Tutti?" + +"But it's only two half-pennies," argued Tutti. + +"Oh, she'll be glad enough of that!" said Tuttu, and tramped on +steadily up the street. "Come along, Tutti, we'll go into the +Cathedral." + +Tutti remonstrated no more, he knew it was useless; and the two little +boys, ascending a steep flight of steps, entered the Cathedral at a +side door, and knelt down in the dim light in one of the chapels. + +Tuttu repeated a prayer he had been taught, and then continued +rapidly, "Thank you, too, very much, for making me and Tutti good; and +please let us go on putting beans into the _fiasco_ till it can't hold +any more--and then we'll find something else...." He paused to +meditate. "Make grandmother pleased with us, and bless the cats." + +Here Tuttu could think of nothing else, and nudged Tutti. + +"You go on, Tutti." + +"I think Tuttu's said everything," commenced Tutti in a whisper. "But +please keep us out of the pond, and make us grow so that we can be +artillery; and take us home safe, for the road's rather long, and +we've never been there alone, and there's oxen about." + +"You shouldn't say that, Tutti," said Tuttu, reprovingly. "Oxen won't +hurt you, and you shouldn't be a coward." + +"Well, shall I pray not to be a coward?" enquired Tutti. + +"If you think it's necessary," said Tuttu. "But you can save that for +another time--we ought to be going now"--so Tutti got up, and the +children pushed their way through the heavy curtain by the door, and +found themselves once more in the bright sunshine. + +Certainly Bianca had been no trouble to them. In the Cathedral she +behaved in the most serious manner, sitting by their side, and never +moving until they pulled the string to which she was fastened; when +she got up solemnly, and followed them on to the Piazza. + +"I'm glad I prayed for you, Bianca, good cat!" said Tuttu. "You would +never have allowed anyone to touch that _scaldino_, would you?" + +Bianca mewed. She was rather bewildered by her walk through the town, +but as long as her two friends were satisfied, that was enough for +her. + +As they came out upon the more crowded thoroughfare, the twins with +their white cat attracted some attention, and many laughing remarks +were shouted to them as they edged their way along the narrow paved +street, where the absence of any pathway made it necessary to keep +their eyes very wide open indeed, to avoid being run over by the carts +and carriages. + +[Illustration: "THE TWINS WITH THEIR WHITE CAT ATTRACTED SOME +ATTENTION."] + +Tutti walked in charge of Bianca, while Tuttu devoted all his +attention to the _scaldino_ in its red handkerchief, and a large green +cotton umbrella he had brought from home in case the day should turn +out to be rainy. + +This umbrella seemed to be endowed with life, so extraordinary was its +power of wriggling itself under the legs of the passers by. It had to +be constantly wrenched out, with many apologies, by its owner; while +the person who had been nearly tripped up by it, went on his--or +her--way grumbling. + +No one did more than grumble, however, for the look of horror on +Tuttu's face was irresistible. + +"Go on, Tutti; do hurry!" he cried, urgently. "I'm getting so hot with +this horrible umbrella. It seems to catch hold of people whichever way +I carry it!" + +"I _am_ going," replied Tutti laconically. "But remember, I've got the +cat." + +As he spoke a boy darted out from one of the grim old houses close by, +and picking up a loose stone threw it at Bianca, grazing her head, and +leaving a great red stain that commenced to trickle slowly down her +spotless white body. + +Tuttu, his eyes blazing with wrath, placed the _scaldino_ by the side +of the kerbstone, and darted at the boy, waving his umbrella; while +Tutti threw his arms round Bianca's neck and tried to hush her mews of +terror by a shower of tears and kisses. + +"How _dare_ you?" shouted Tuttu, beside himself with anger. "Go away, +and leave our poor Bianca! You've killed her, I expect; and I wish I +could kill you!" But even in the midst of his ungovernable rage, +Tutti's voice reached him. + +"Oh, Tuttu, Tuttu! the _scaldino_!" + +Tuttu darted across the street towards the stone where he had left the +precious red bundle. There it was, lying unhurt, and he was about to +seize it and carry it to a place of safety, when a fast-trotting horse +with one of the light country gigs behind him, dashed down the street. + +"Get out of the way! Get out of the way!" shouted the driver--but it +was too late! + +The gig flew on, and Tuttu lay white and quiet, the _scaldino_ still +grasped in his two little outstretched hands. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +"Where's the _scaldino_, grandmother?" were Tuttu's first words, when +he woke up to find himself lying on a little bed in a long room, with +Maddalena and Father Giacomo bending over him. "We saved up.... It's +all for you...." he muttered brokenly, "Have you got it?" + +"Yes, my lamb. A beautiful one it is," said the old woman, the tears +streaming down her wrinkled face. "You lie still and get better, my +Tuttu." + +"I will, grandmother, but I want you to see the surprise inside. It's +from weeding.... Father Giacomo will tell you. I'm so tired, +grandmother.... How's Bianca?" + +"Very well, Tuttu, she has only a slight scratch.... Oh, my poor boy!" +and Father Giacomo's voice broke. + +"Is it near evening?" said Tuttu, after a few minutes, during which he +lay moving his head restlessly. + +"It soon will be," said the Padre. "Why do you ask, Tuttu?" + +"The _fiasco_.... Do you think I may put a bean in to-night, or was I +too angry?" + +"You may, Tuttu," said Father Giacomo, turning away his head. "If you +tell me where it is, I will send for it." + +"By the melon bed. Tutti knows. He'll bring it," whispered Tuttu. +"It's nearly full--only four days more. Put one in for Tutti." + +As the setting sun streamed into the long room, Tutti crept in, +holding Father Giacomo's hand; carrying the broken _fiasco_. + +Tuttu awoke from a restless sleep as they entered, and smiled with a +faint reflection of his old happy laugh. "That's right, Tutti. You +_have_ been good, haven't you?" + +"Yes," quavered Tutti, lifting his terrified, tear-stained face to his +brother. + +"Put your bean in then, Tutti, and give me mine. It's getting so late, +it's almost night-time." + +Tutti held out the bean with a trembling hand, and as it dropped into +the old bottle, little Tuttu gave a quiet sigh. + +"It only wants four more," he said happily. + +Only four more! But Tuttu might never put them in. That night he +started on a long, long journey, and as the old grandmother with +choking sobs placed the broken bottle on a shelf among her treasures, +she turned to Tutti who was lying, worn out with grief, upon the +doorstep. + +"Come, my Tutti," she said, "there are only us two now. We must try +and be very good to each other." + + * * * * * + +Years afterwards, Tutti, coming home on leave--for he had clung to his +childish idea of being a soldier--found the broken _fiasco_ in the +corner where his grandmother had hidden it; and taking out the beans +that had been lying there so long, he carried them to a little grave +with a small white cross at the head of it. + +"Dear Tuttu! He would like to have these growing round him," he +thought, and planted them carefully amongst the flowers and grasses. + +Grandmother Maddalena was too old to move out of the house now, but +Father Giacomo watered the beans lovingly, and in the soft spring air +they grew rapidly, so that they soon formed a beautiful tangle, hiding +the cross and even the name that still stood there clearly in black +letters + +"TUTTU." + + + + +THE STONE-MAIDEN. + +Atven was the son of a fisherman, and lived with his father on a flat +sandy coast far away in the North-land. + +Great rocks strewed the shore about their hut, and the child had often +been told how, long, long ago, the giant Thor fought single-handed +against a shipload of wild men who attempted to land in the little +bay; and drove them off--killing some, and changing others into the +wonderful stones that remained there to that day. + +The country people called them "Thor's balls;" and Atven often +wandered about amongst them, trying to find likenesses to the old +warriors in their weather-worn surfaces; and peering into every hole +and cranny--half dreading, half hoping to see a stone hand stretched +out to him from the misty shadows of the past. + +Here and there, a row of smaller boulders lay half sunk in the sand, +with only their rounded tops, covered with long brown seaweed, +appearing above the surface. + +These, Atven decided, must be the heads of the ancient Norsemen, and +further on stood their huge mis-shapen bodies, twisted into every +imaginable form, and covered by myriads of shell-fish, that clung to +their grey sides like suits of shining armour. + +Atven was often lonely; for he had no brothers or sisters, and his +mother had died many years before. He was a shy, wild boy--more at +home with the sea birds that flew about the lonely shore, than with +the children he met sometimes as he wandered about the country; but in +spite of his shyness he had friends who loved him everywhere he went. +The house dogs on every farm knew his step, and ran out to greet him; +the horses rubbed their noses softly upon his homespun tunic; the +birds clustered on his shoulders; the cats came purring up, and the +oxen lowed and shook their bells as soon as they caught sight of him. +The very hens cackled loudly for joy--and Atven would caress them all +with his brown hand, and had a kind word for every one of them. + +All the short Northern summer, Atven spent his evenings in searching +about amongst "Thor's balls" for traces of the warriors of the old +legend; and one night, in the soft clearness of the twilight, he came +upon something that rewarded him for all his patient perseverance. + +Lifting a mass of seaweed that had completely covered one of the +larger rocks, he saw before him the graceful form of a little +Stone-maiden! + +There she lay, as though quietly sleeping, her long dress falling in +straight folds to her feet, her rippled hair spreading about her. One +small hand grasped a chain upon her neck, the other was embedded in +the rock on which she was lying. + +Atven was so astonished that he stared at the child-figure as if +turned into a statue himself. + +Then he realized that his long search had been rewarded, and he fell +on his knees and prayed that the Stone-maiden might be released from +her prison, and given to him to be a little playfellow. + +As soon as it was daylight the next morning, he started off to ask the +advice of his one friend, the old Priest of Adgard. + +The day was fine, with a crisp northern air, and a bright sun that +danced on the long stretches of sandy grass, and on the swaying boughs +of the fir trees. + +Atven's heart beat hopefully as he neared the neat wooden house in +which the old Priest lived. + +Father Johannes welcomed him kindly, as he always did; and listened +attentively whilst Atven told his story. + +"It must have consideration, my child," he said. "I will come down to +the shore to-morrow--perhaps I may be able to think of something." + +Atven took up his cap humbly, and started on his homeward journey. + +As he threaded his way beneath the shadows of the pine-trees, the +sun's fingers darted through the branches and drew a golden pattern on +the mossy ground under his feet; the mosquitoes hummed drowsily, the +air was full of soft summer warmth and brightness--but Atven's +thoughts were far away with the ancient legend and the Stone-maiden. + +How had she come to be amongst the shipload of "wild-men" in the misty +ages when Thor yet walked the earth? Had she a father and mother who +loved her, and perhaps brothers and sisters--and how long had she been +sleeping so quietly in the arms of the great rock? + +It was a strange cradle, with only the sea to sing her lullaby, and +wash her lovingly, like a tender mother! + +Atven hurried on; and as he peered before him with sun-dazzled eyes, +he thought he saw a figure flitting in and out between the brown tree +stems. + +It was a small, light figure, with a strange kind of loose dress, and +long floating hair of a beautiful gold colour. It glided along so +rapidly that Atven had some difficulty in keeping pace with it. + +Every now and again it seemed to be beckoning to him with one little +hand; and at last as he ran faster and faster, it suddenly turned its +head, and he saw the face of a beautiful young woman. Her brown eyes +were soft and clear, and her cheeks tinted with a colour so delicate, +it reminded Atven of the little pink shells he sometimes found after a +storm upon the sea-shore. + +"Atven! Atven!" she murmured, "You have found my child. Give her life! +Give her life!" + +"Tell me what I am to do!" cried Atven, and stretched out his hands +towards the beautiful young woman; but at that moment she reached the +shore, and gliding between the boulders, disappeared amongst their +dark shadows. + +Atven threw himself down beside the rock on which the Stone-maiden lay +sleeping. He grieved for her so much that tears rolled slowly down his +cheeks, and as they touched the stone, the great boulder shook and +crumbled, and a shudder passed over the figure of the Stone-maiden. +She seemed to Atven to sigh gently, and half open her eyes; but in a +moment they closed again; the rock settled into its place, and +everything was motionless. + +"To-morrow! To-morrow!" he said to himself, "When Father Johannes +comes, he will help me." + +Early next morning the old Priest knocked at the door of the +fisherman's hut. He had started at daybreak, for he knew that Atven +would be anxiously awaiting him. + +They went down together to the shore; and when Father Johannes saw the +figure of the sleeping child, he took out of his bark basket, a little +jar of water from the Church Well, and sprinkled it over her. + +The Stone-maiden stirred and opened her eyes. She raised her hands, +breathed gently, and lifting her head, gazed at the old Priest and the +boy with wistful brown eyes, like those of the figure Atven had met in +the forest. + +"Where is my father? Where am I?" she asked, in a low soft voice, as +she rose up from the rock, and shook out the folds of her long dress. + +Father Johannes took her hand, and gently repeated the old legend; +while the Stone-maiden listened with wide-open eyes. + +"I remember it all now," she said, as the puzzled look faded from her +face. "We had but just landed when the thick cloud came down, and a +shower of stones fell upon us. My father was smitten down with all his +followers, and I only was left weeping upon the shore. A cold air +seemed to breathe upon me, and I fell asleep." + +She spoke slowly, in the old Norse tongue, but Father Johannes had +studied it, and understood her without much questioning. + +"Where was your mother?" he asked kindly, as Atven with smiles of +delight, seized her other hand. + +"My mother died just before we set sail, and my father would not leave +me lonely," answered the Stone-maiden sadly. + +"But we will all love you now," cried Atven. "I will grow tall and +strong to work for you, and you shall never be unhappy any more!" + +The Stone-maiden smiled, as she stood on the threshold of her new +life. She looked up trustingly at her two friends, and the old Priest +of Asgard, bending down, laid his hand upon her head with a gentle +blessing. + + * * * * * + +The Warriors' heads, with their tangled elf-locks, still peer out of +the drifting sand--the twisted bodies in their sea armour, lie half +surrounded by the green waters; but the log hut, and Atven have +vanished into the misty shadows of the past. They, and the good old +priest, have drifted away to Shadow-Land. + +Only the sea talks of them still; and croons them a lullaby, as soft +as the centuries-old song, it sang over the cradle of the enchanted +Stone-maiden. + + + + +THE GRASS OF PARNASSUS. + +On the banks of a clear stream in one of the far away Greek islands, +grew a small flowering plant, with delicate stem and transparent white +flower, called "Grass of Parnassus." + +Every day it saw its own face, reflected in the running water, and +every day it made the same complaint-- + +"This place is beautiful, the soft earth wraps me round, the branches +bend over me, but I can never be happy, for I have never seen a +River-God!" + +The fish swimming close to the shore had talked to the Grass, of the +mysterious race who lived in the shallows of the river, higher up, +where it broadened into a lake; and played on their rude pipes as they +rested in the flickering gloom of the water-weeds and rushes. + +"Everyone has seen the River-Gods but me!" said the white flower. "The +wind brings me the floating sound of their piping--I can even hear +their laughter, and the echo of their voices. Yet they do not come, +and I may wither, and never have the happiness I long for!" + +But one day, the river-side thrilled, with a strange, new feeling of +hope and expectation. The sun shone, a faint breeze stirred the trees; +and down the stream waded a beautiful youth, carrying his pipes in his +hand, blowing a few notes mournfully, at long intervals. His hair, +crowned with an ivy wreath, hung down, curled and tangled; his +hoof-feet splashed in the shallows of the water, and he cried-- + +"Nadiae! Nadiae! Where are you hiding--Why do you not come to me?" + +The white flower remained, enchanted and motionless, upon its stem, +bending its yellow eye upon the stranger. + +"Nadiae! Nadiae!" the voice wailed, "Do not hide from me any more!--Come +to me!" + +The bushes rustled and parted; a delicate girl's face looked out, and +a wood nymph in floating garments, slid to the side of the stream, and +dabbled her white feet in the water. + +The youth gave a cry of joy; "I have found you, Nadiae! I have piped to +you, and called to you till I was weary; but I loved you, and at last +I have found you!" + +The wood nymph smiled as she sat in the flickering shadows--and the +River-God bending down, gathered the Grass of Parnassus, and placed it +timidly in her shining tresses. + +The wish of the white flower had been fulfilled; but the end of its +life's longing was--Death. + + + + +THE HEDGEHOGS' COFFEE PARTY. + +A STORY OF THURINGIA. + + +CHAPTER I. + +It was winter time, and the Thuringia-Wald lay still and white under +its snowy covering. + +The fir trees waved their branches in the frosty air, and a clear moon +had risen over the mountains. + +All was quiet and deserted, except that a faint sound of music and +singing floated on the wind, coming undoubtedly from the comfortable +burrow of the Hedgehog family, who lived under one of the largest pine +stumps. + +Councillor Igel--for the father was a member of the Hedgehog +Government--had consented to allow the young people to have one or two +friends to coffee, and they had been dancing with the greatest spirit +for the last half hour. + +By the porcelain stove stood the Councillor's only brother, Uncle +Columbus, who had devoted himself since childhood to learned pursuits, +and was much respected by the rest of the family. + +He looked down upon all amusements as frivolous, but then he had been +to College, so his superior mind was only what was to be expected. + +The Councillor belonged to an ancient Thuringian race who had been +settled for centuries in the forest near the little town of Ruhla. +They were a proud family, for one of their uncles had, some years +before, been called to take up the position of Court Hedgehog at the +Royal country Palace, where he moved in the highest society, and +occasionally invited his relations to visit him. + +"But fifty miles is really almost too far to go with nothing but a cup +of coffee at the end," said the Hedgehog-mother, "and he never invites +us to sleep. We don't, therefore, see so much of him as we otherwise +should do." + +"That must be very trying," replied the Mole-mother, to whom these +confidences were being poured out. + +"Yes, for of course it would be an inestimable advantage to the +children to see a little Court life. However, with the fashions +altering so quickly, it would be difficult for me to arrange their +dresses in the last mode--and I couldn't have them looked down upon." + +"Of course not," humbly replied the Mole-mother. She was sitting by +the table, with her homespun knitting in her hand; and though she was +trying to pay attention to her friend's words, she was arranging her +dinner for the next day at the same time, and wondering whether her +eldest child could have one more tuck let out of her frock before +Christmas time. + +"It's all very well for the Hedgehog-mother," she thought. "She comes +of a high family, and can live in luxury; but with all my children, +and my poor husband working away from morning till night, I'm obliged +to plan every coffee bean, or I could never keep the house together!" + +The Councillor's wife, however, talked on without noticing her +distraction. + +"Do you ever find any inconveniences from living so near the town?" +she enquired. "Do the boys ever annoy you? They are sometimes very +ill-bred." + +"Our house is in such a retired position, I seldom see anyone," +replied the Mole-mother. "The Forester's family are our nearest +neighbours, and really they are so kind they might almost be Moles +themselves." + +"That is very pleasant for you," said the Frau Councillor. "_Our_ case +is quite different. The Rats who keep the inn at the cross roads, are +most disagreeable people. We can't associate with them." + +[Illustration: "THE RATS WHO KEEP THE INN ARE MOST DISAGREEABLE +PEOPLE."] + +"Gypsies!" cried Uncle Columbus at this moment. He had an unpleasant +habit when he did not like the conversation, of suddenly reminding the +family of a tragedy that had happened some sixty years ago, when a +promising young Hedgehog had been carried off to captivity by a band +of travelling Tinkers, and finally disposed of in a way too terrible +to be alluded to. + +The Councillor's wife looked angry, and hastily changed the subject. + +"He is quite a trial to us sometimes!" she whispered to the +Mole-mother. "Such bad taste to mention Gypsies. It makes me tremble +in every quill!" + +"I think I must be going now," said the Mole-mother hurriedly, putting +away her knitting into a reticule, and tying a woollen hood over her +head--for she felt that it would not do for strangers to be mixed up +in these family matters. + +Calling her children to her, she helped them into their warm galoshes; +and lighting a small lantern, they were soon out in the snowy forest. + + +CHAPTER II. + +"Oh, mother, I wish we were rich like the Hedgehogs," cried the eldest +daughter, Emmie; "Wilhelm and Fritz are so fashionable, and on Berta's +birthday they are going to give a grand coffee party, to which the +Court Hedgehog is expected!" + +"Well, they won't ask us, so you had better not think too much about +it," said the Mole-mother; "don't let your mind run on vanities." + +As she spoke they saw the two rats from the Inn coming towards them. +The elder--the proprietor of the Inn--in a peasant's dress with a pipe +in his mouth, dragging a small sledge on which three infant rats were +seated, wrapped in a fur rug, while their mother walked beside +them, her homespun cloak trailing over the snow. + +"Good evening, neighbours!" cried the Mole-mother pleasantly, for +though she did not exactly approve of the Rat household, she always +treated them with civility. "Where are you out so late? How well the +children are looking!" + +"Yes, they grow rapidly--bless their little tails and whiskers!" said +the Rat-mother proudly. "We have just been to my brother's in the +town, taking a cup of coffee with him, and there we heard some news. +_I_ can tell you! There's to be a grand Coffee Party at the Hedgehogs, +and though all the guests have been invited, _we_ alone are left out. +Most insulting _I_ call it!" + +"Well, it _is_ rude," allowed the Mole-mother, "but they've not asked +us either. You see the Court Hedgehog is to be there, and so it is +very select." + +"Select! I'll make them select!" growled the proprietor of the Inn +with a scowl. "Who are they I should like to know? They may have +Gypsies upon them at any moment!" + +"Oh, I hope not!" cried the Mole-mother. + +"There's a Tinker's boy in the town," said the Innkeeper, darkly, "and +he's always looking out for Hedgehogs--I shouldn't be surprised if he +heard where the family live." + +"Good-night!" said the Mole-mother, nervously, and hurried on with her +children. + +"Some mischief will be done if we don't watch," she said to Emmie, +who was a mole of unusual intelligence. "I'll tell your brother to +keep his eye on the Rat Inn." + +After about half an hour's walking, they arrived at home; for their +house was in a secluded position in the most unfrequented part of the +forest. + +Though very simple, it was clean and well kept, and furnished with a +large cooking stove, a four-post bedstead, and a few wooden benches. + +In the one arm-chair sat the Mole-father, reading the newspaper; while +his sister, Aunt Betta, with a cap with long streaming ribbons on her +head, was busily stirring something in a saucepan. + +As the Mole-mother and her family, descended the stone stairway that +led from the upper air, a delicious smell of cooking greeted them. Two +large tallow candles were burning brightly, and altogether the house +presented a very lively appearance. + +"Here you are at last," cried the Mole-father. "Supper is just ready, +and I have sent Karl to the Inn for some lager-beer." + +"I wonder if he will hear anything," said the Mole-mother taking off +her galoshes; and then she related all the news of the evening. + +"If there isn't some mischief brewing, may I be made into waistcoats!" +exclaimed the Mole-father, throwing down his newspaper. + +It was his favourite expression when much excited, and never failed +to give the Mole-mother a shiver all down her back. She called it such +very strong language. + +At this moment Karl came clattering down the steps. + +"Oh, father! mother! I _have_ heard something!" he shouted. "The +Rat-father has started off to the Tinker's to tell the boy where the +Hedgehogs are living!" + +The Mole-mother sank down on a bench gasping. + +"He's done it then! Oh, the poor Hedgehogs!" she cried wringing her +hands, "They'll be cooked in clay before they can turn round." + +"Don't be in such a hurry, wife," said the Mole-father. "I've thought +of something. We won't terrify the Hedgehogs--What can _they_ do?--but +we'll collect all the Moles of the neighbourhood, and make a burrow +all round the house; then if the Tinker's son comes, he'll fall in, +and can't get any further. What do you think of that, eh?" + +"An excellent idea!" said the Mole-mother, recovering. "Send Karl +round to-night, and begin the first thing to-morrow morning." + +As soon as daylight dawned in the forest, the Mole-father, accompanied +by his wife and children, and all their friends; went out in a long +procession, with their shovels and wheelbarrows, and commenced work +round the Hedgehogs' house. + +The Councillor's family were so busily occupied in turning out, and +arranging, their rooms for the festivity--which was to include a dance +in the evening--that they had no time to take any notice of the +Moles' digging; in fact they never even observed it. The younger +Hedgehogs were roasting coffee. The house-mother sugared the cakes in +the back-kitchen, while the Councillor, with a large holland apron, +rubbed down the floor, and gave a final dust to the furniture. + +As to Uncle Columbus--he sat on a sort of island of chairs in one +corner, studying a book, and looking on misanthropically at the +preparations. + +The Moles, therefore, were quite uninterrupted, and burrowed away +vigorously, until the earth all round the house was mined to a depth +of several feet; and they returned home to dinner in high spirits. + +"If that boy dares to venture, may I be made into waistcoats, if he +doesn't fall in!" cried the Mole-father, wiping his face with a red +cotton pocket-handkerchief--for though the snow was on the ground the +work was exhausting. + + +CHAPTER III. + +The Tinker's family sat round a fire, in one of the tumble-down wooden +cottages that dotted the outskirts of the little town of Ruhla. + +A small stove scarcely warmed the one room, for great cracks appeared +in the walls in every direction. + +"We've got no dinner to-day; are you going after those Hedgehogs?" +said the Tinker to his son Otto. "Now you know where they are, it +will be an easy thing to get hold of them." + +"Yes; we'll have a fine supper to-night," said Otto, stamping his feet +to get them warm. "Come with me, Johann, and we'll take the old sack +over our shoulders to bring them back in." + +They started off over the crisp snow sparkling in the early sunshine, +away to the forest; and straight towards the great pine tree, which +sheltered the underground home of Councillor Igel. + +"Come, Johann!" cried Otto, bounding along over the slippery pathway; +but Johann was small and fat, and his little legs could not keep pace +with Otto's long ones. He soon fell behind, and Otto raced on by +himself. + +"Do be careful, Otto! There's lots of Moles here," cried little +Johann, but Otto did not stop to listen. On he ran almost up to the +pine tree; when Johann saw him suddenly jump into the air, and +disappear through the snow with a loud shriek. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +At the sound of the fall, the Councillor ran up the steps to his front +door, and put out his head cautiously to see what was the matter. + +"Gypsies!" said Uncle Columbus without raising his eyes from his +book; and for the first time in his life he was right! + +Gypsies it certainly was, as the Councillor soon determined; and he +hastily scratched some snow over the door, and retired to the back +kitchen with his whole family, in a terrible state of fright and +excitement. + +"What _can_ the boy have fallen into?" he enquired vainly of the +Hedgehog-mother, and of Uncle Columbus, in turn. "There are no houses +there that _I_ know of. We have been saved by almost a miracle!" + +As they remained shuddering in a little frightened knot--only Uncle +Columbus maintaining his philosophical calm--the air filled with the +odour of burnt sugar; a faint knocking was heard against the side of +the stove pipe, and in another minute the Mole-father's red nightcap +appeared through a hole, and his kind face shortly followed. + +"Don't be frightened," he said reassuringly. "I have made a little +tunnel and come through--merely to explain things. I thought perhaps +you might be a little alarmed." + +"Alarmed!" cried the Hedgehog-mother. "It doesn't describe it! +Terrified, and distracted, is nearer to the real thing. The sugar +biscuits are all spoilt, for I forgot them in the oven; and my +daughter Berta fainted on the top of the stove, and is so seriously +singed, she will be unable to appear at the party. Not that we shall +be able to have a party now," continued the Hedgehog-mother, weeping, +"for Uncle Columbus sat down on the plum cake in mistake for a +foot-stool, and Fritz has trodden on the punch bottles. Oh, what a +series of misfortunes!" + +"Cheer up, my good neighbour, all will come right in time," said the +Mole-father encouragingly. + +"As long as the Court Hedgehog doesn't appear in the middle," wailed +the Councillor. "It makes me shudder in every quill to think of it. +Not even a front door to receive him at!" + +"Oh, as to that, let him come to us, and we will give him the best we +have," replied the Mole-father. "Our place is homely, but I daresay he +will condescend to put up with it till your house is in order again. I +sent Karl on to intercept him, and explain just how it is. He will +take him straight to our house till you are ready for him." + +"Well, I must say you have been exceedingly thoughtful," said the +Councillor, pompously, "and I feel sincerely grateful to you; but now, +will you kindly explain to me the cause of this severe disturbance?" + +"I think I'll come into the room first, if you'll allow me," said the +Mole-father. "I am getting rather a crick in the neck from sticking my +head through here." + +"Come in by all means," said the Hedgehog-mother, graciously. "I am +sorry to be obliged to receive you in this humble apartment." + +"Gypsies!" growled Uncle Columbus, who was brushing the currants and +crumbs off his coat with a duster. + +The Mole-father had by this time worked himself into the kitchen, +dragging his spade after him; and seated on a bench by the stove, he +related the whole story to the Councillor, but carefully omitted to +give the name of the person who had betrayed the Hedgehogs to the +Tinker's family; and notwithstanding the requests of the whole family, +he firmly refused to do so. + +"All's well that ends well," he said cheerfully, "and as I heard the +Tinker forbidding his sons ever to come near the place again, you will +be quite safe in the future." + +"What has happened to that dreadful boy? Is he still in the hole, or +have they got him out?" enquired the Hedgehog-mother anxiously. + +"Got him out some time ago," said the Mole-father, "and carried him +off to the hospital. Broke his leg, I am sorry to say, though it's +nothing very bad. He will be all right in six weeks or so. I don't +think much of those human fractures." + +"Serves him right," said the Councillor viciously. "And now, my good +preserver, in what way can we show our gratitude to you? I shall send +Fritz and Wilhelm into the town for more provisions, and we might have +our Coffee Party after all. What do you say to that, my children?" + +The family clapped their hands joyfully. + +"I trust you and your family will grace the party?" said the +Hedgehog-mother to the old Mole. + +"On one condition," he replied, "I shall be delighted to do so; and +that is that you will allow me to ask the Rats from the Inn. They are +touchy people, and do not readily forgive an injury." + +"What I said all along," muttered Uncle Columbus, lifting his eyes +from his dusting. "I said 'away with pride,' but I wasn't listened +to." + +"You will be now," said the Councillor in a soothing and dignified +manner. "Certainly; send an invitation to the Inn if you wish it. Just +write, 'To meet the Court Hedgehog,' at the top, Wilhelm; it will make +it more gratifying." + + +CHAPTER V. + +The Court Hedgehog, with an escort of six guards, had meanwhile +arrived at the Mole's house, and was being entertained by the +Mole-mother and her children, who were all in a state of great +nervousness. + +The Court Hedgehog, however, appeared to be more condescending than +could have been expected from his position. He accepted some +refreshment, and a pipe of the Mole-father's tobacco, and then +reclining in the one easy chair, he awaited the course of events with +calmness. + +Here the Councillor found him some hours later, when the confusion in +the Hedgehog household having been smoothed over--a deputation of the +father and sons started to bring the distinguished guest home in +triumph. + +The rooms in the Councillor's house had all been gaily decorated with +pine branches; the stove sent out a pleasant glow; and the +Hedgehog-mother, in her best cap and a stiff black silk dress, stood +waiting to welcome her guests in the ante-room. + +By her side sat Berta, who had fortunately recovered sufficiently to +be present at the entertainment; though still suffering from the +effects of the shock, and with her head tied up in a silk +handkerchief. + +[Illustration] + +As the Court Hedgehog appeared in the doorway, three of the younger +children, concealed in a bower of branches, commenced to sing an ode +composed by Uncle Columbus for the occasion, beginning "Welcome to +our honoured guest,"--while a fiddler hired for the occasion +accompanied it upon the violin, behind a red curtain. + +The first visitors to arrive were the Moles; followed by the Rat +family, who were filled with remorse when they received the +invitation, at the thought of their treacherous behaviour. + +"I declare, mother," said the Innkeeper to his wife in a whisper, "the +Mole-father is such a good creature, I shall be ashamed to quarrel +with any of his friends for the future. 'Live and let live,' ought to +be our motto." + +Uncle Columbus did not appear till late in the evening, when he +entered the room dressed in an antiquated blue coat with brass +buttons, finished off by a high stand-up white collar. + +He staggered in, carrying a large plum cake about twice the size of +the one he had unfortunately sat down upon; which he placed upon the +coffee table, where the Hedgehog-mother was presiding over a large +collection of various cups, mugs, and saucers. + +"I have only just come back from town, where I went to procure a cake +fit for this happy occasion," he whispered. "It does my heart good to +see this neighbourly gathering, and I have made up my mind to promise +you something in memory of the event. I will from this day, give up +for ever a habit which I know has been objectionable to you--the word +'Gypsies' shall never again be mentioned in the family." + + + + +UNCLE VOLODIA. + +A STORY OF A RUSSIAN VILLAGE. + + +CHAPTER I. + +On the one hill of the district, just outside the village of Viletna, +stood the great house belonging to Madame Olsheffsky. + +All round it lay, what had once in the days gone by, been elaborate +gardens, but were now a mere tangle of brushwood, waving grass, and +wild flowers. + +Beyond this, again, were fields of rye and hemp, bounded on one side +by the shining waters of the great Seloe Lake, dug by hundreds of +slaves in the time of Madame Olsheffsky's great-grandfather; and on +the other by the dim greenness of a pine forest, which stretched away +into the distance for mile after mile, until it seemed to melt into +the misty line of the horizon. + +Between the lake and the gardens of the great house, lay Viletna, with +its rough log houses, sandy street, and great Church, crowned with a +cupola like a gaily-painted melon; where Elena, Boris, and Daria, the +three children of Madame Olsheffsky, drove every Sunday with their +mother in the old-fashioned, tumble-down carriage. + +All the week the children looked forward to this expedition, for with +the exception of an occasional visit to Volodia Ivanovitch's shop in +the village, it was the only break in the quiet monotony of their +lives. + +They were allowed to go to Volodia's, whenever they had money enough +to buy anything; and often spent the afternoon there listening to his +long tales, and examining the contents of the shop, which seemed to +supply all that any reasonable person could wish for--from a ball of +twine to a wedding dress. + +Volodia himself, had been a servant at the great house many years +before, "when the place was kept up as a country gentleman's should +be"--he was fond of explaining to the children--"but when the poor +dear master was taken off to Siberia--he was as good as a saint, and +no one knew what they found out against him--then the Government took +all his money, and your mother had to manage as well as she could with +the little property left her by your grandfather. She ought to have +owned all the country round, but your great-grandfather was an +extravagant man, Boris Andreievitch! and he sold everything he could +lay hands on!" + +Elena and Boris always listened respectfully. They had the greatest +opinion of "Uncle Volodia's" wisdom, and they could just remember the +time of grief and excitement when their father left them; but it had +all happened so long ago that though their mother often spoke of him, +and their old nurse Var-Vara was never tired of relating anecdotes of +his childhood, they had gradually begun to think of him, not as a +living person, but as one of the heroes of the old romances that still +lingered on the shelves of the dilapidated library. + +It was a happy life the children led in the great white house. It made +no difference to them that the furniture was old and scanty, that the +rooms were bare, and the plaster falling away in many places from the +walls and ceilings. + +Their mother was there, and all their old friends, and they wished for +nothing further. + +Was there not Toulu, the horse, in his stall in the ruined stable; +Tulipan, the Pomeranian dog, Adam, the old butler, and Alexis, the +"man of all work," who rowed their boat on the lake, tidied the +garden--as well as the weeds and his own natural laziness would allow +him--and was regarded by Boris as the type of all manly perfection! + +What could children want more? Especially as Volodia was always ready +at a moment's notice to tell them a story, carve them a peasant or a +dog from a chip of pine-wood, dance a jig, or entertain them in a +hundred other ways dear to the heart of Russian children. + + +CHAPTER II. + +On one of the clear dry days of an early Russian autumn, when a +brilliant glow of colour and sunshine floods the air, and the birch +trees turned to golden glories shake their fluttering leaves like +brilliant butterflies, Elena, Boris, and Daria, stood on one of the +wide balconies of the great house, with their mother beside them, +sorting seeds and tying them up in packets for the springtime. + +Some large hydrangeas, and orange trees, in green tubs, made a +background to the little scene. + +The eager children with clumsy fingers, bent on being useful; the +pale, thin mother leaning back in her garden chair smiling at their +absorbed faces. + +"Children, I have something I must tell you," commenced Madame +Olsheffsky, seriously, when the last seeds had been put away and +labelled. "It is something that will make you sad, but you must try +and bear it well for my sake, and for your poor father's--who I hope +will return to us one day. I think you are old enough to know +something about our affairs, Elena, for you are nearly thirteen. Even +my little Boris is almost eleven. Don't look so frightened, darling," +continued Madame Olsheffsky, taking little Daria in her arms, "it is +nothing very dreadful. I am obliged to enter into a lawsuit--a +troublesome, difficult lawsuit. One of our distant cousins has just +found some papers which he thinks will prove that he ought to have had +this estate instead of your grandfather, and he is going to try and +take it from us. I have sent a great box of our title deeds to the +lawyer in Viletna, and he is to go through them immediately--but who +knows how it may turn out? Oh, children! you must help me bravely, if +more ill-fortune is to fall upon us!" + +Elena rushed towards her mother, and threw her arms round her neck. +"We will! We will! Don't trouble about it, dear little mother," she +cried. "What does it matter if we are all together. _I_ will work and +dig in the garden, and Boris can be taught to groom Toulu, and be +useful--he really can be very sensible if he likes. Then Var-Vara will +cook, and Adam and Daria can do the dusting. Oh, we shall manage +beautifully!" + +Madame Olsheffsky smiled through some tears. + +"You are a dear child, Elena! I won't complain any more while I have +all my children to help me. But run now Boris, and tell Alexis to get +the boat ready. I must go to the other side of the lake, to see that +poor child who broke his arm the other day." + +Boris ran off to the stables with alacrity. He found it difficult to +realize all that his mother had just told them. "Of course it was very +dreadful," he thought, "but very likely it wouldn't come true. Then, +as Elena said, nothing mattered much if they were all together; and +perhaps, if they were obliged to move into the village, they might +live near Volodia's shop; and the wicked cousin might let them come +and play sometimes in the garden." + +"Alexis! Alexis!" he shouted into the hay loft, and a brown face with +a shock of black hair, appeared at one of the windows. + +"What is it, Boris Andreievitch?" + +"Mamma wants the boat immediately," replied Boris. "She is going over +to see Marsha's sick child." + +Alexis took a handful of sunflower seeds out of his pocket, and began +to eat them meditatively, throwing the husks behind him. + +"The mistress won't go another day?" he enquired slowly. + +Boris shook his head. + +"The lake's overflowing, and the dam is none too strong over there by +Viletna," continued Alexis; "it would be better for her to wait a +little." + +"She says she must go to-day," said Boris, "but I will tell her what +you say." + +Madame Olsheffsky, however, refused to put off her visit; and Elena, +Boris, and Daria, looking out from the balcony, saw the boat with the +two figures in it start off from the little landing-place, and grow +smaller and smaller, until it faded away into a dim speck in the +distance. + + +CHAPTER III. + +Late that afternoon the three children were playing with Tulipan in +the garden, when they heard Volodia's well-known voice shouting to +them-- + +"Elena! Boris Andreievitch!" + +They fancied he seemed to be in a great hurry, and as they flew +towards him, they noticed that he had no hat, and there was a look of +terror on his face that froze Elena's heart with the certainty of some +unknown but terrible misfortune. + +"The lake! the lake!" he panted; "where is the mistress?" + +"Gone to see Marsha's sick child," said Elena, clinging to little +Daria with one hand, and gazing at Volodia with eyes full of terror. + +"Ah, then it is true. It was her I saw! The poor mistress! Aie! Aie! +Don't move, children! Don't stir. Here is your only safety," cried +Volodia in piercing tones. "The river has flooded into the lake, and +the dam may go any moment. The village will be overwhelmed. Nothing +can save it! The water rises! rises! and any minute it may burst +through! The Saints have mercy! All our things will be lost; but it is +the will of God--we cannot fight against it." And Volodia crossed +himself devoutly with Russian fatalism. + +"But mamma! what will happen to her?" cried Elena passionately. "Can +nothing be done?" + +"To go towards the lake now would be certain death," replied Volodia +brokenly. "No, Elena Andreievna; we must trust in God. He alone can +save her if she is on the water now! Pray Heaven she may not have +started!" + +As he spoke, a long procession of terrified peasants came winding up +the road towards the great house. All the inhabitants of the village +had fled from their threatened homes, and were taking refuge on the +only hill in the neighbourhood. + +Weeping, gesticulating and talking; the men, women, and children, +rushed on in the greatest state of confusion. + +Some carried a few possessions they had snatched up hastily as they +left their houses, some helped the old bed-ridden people to hobble +along on their sticks and crutches; others led the smaller children, +or carried the gaily-painted chests containing the holiday clothes of +the family; while the boys dragged along the rough unkempt horses, and +the few cows and oxen they had been able to drive in from the fields +close by. + +All, as they came within speaking distance of Elena and Boris, began +to describe their misfortunes; and such a babel of sound rose on the +air that it was impossible to separate one word from another. + +"Where shall they go to, _Matoushka_?"[B] enquired Volodia anxiously, +as the strange procession spread itself out amongst the low-growing +birch trees. + +[B] _Matoushka_--little mother. + +Elena shook herself, as if awakening from a horrible dream. + +"Oh, it is dreadful! dreadful! But you are welcome, poor people!" she +cried. "Put the horses into the stables--Adam will show you where--and +the dogs too; and come into the house all of you, if you can get in. +The cows must go to the yard. Oh, Var-Vara!" she added, as she turned +to her old nurse, who had just come out, attracted by the noise. "Have +you heard? Oh, poor mamma! Do you think she will be safe?" and Elena +rushed into the house, and up the stair of a wooden tower, from which +she could see for miles round, a wide vista of field, lake, and +forest. + +No boat was in sight, and the lake looked comparatively peaceful; but +just across the middle stretched an ominous streak of muddy, rushing +water, that beat against the high grass-grown dam, separating the lake +from the village, and threatened every moment to roll over it. + +Elena held her breath, and listened. There was a dull roaring sound +like distant thunder. + +The streak of brown water surged higher and higher; and suddenly--in +one instant, as it seemed to the terrified child--a vast volume of +water shot over the dam, seeming to carry it away bodily with its +violence; and with a crash like an earthquake, the pent-up lake burst +out in one huge wave, that rolled towards the village of Viletna, +tearing up everything it passed upon its way. + +Elena turned, and, almost falling downstairs in her terror, ran +headlong towards the group of peasants who had gathered on the grass +before the wooden verandah, and in despairing silence were watching +the destruction of their fields and houses. + +Beside them stood the old Priest, his long white hair shining in the +sunshine. + +"My children, let us pray to the good God for any living things that +are in danger!" he said. + +The peasants fell upon their knees. + +"Save them! Save them!" they cried, imploringly, "and save our cattle +and houses!" + +The blue sky stretched overhead, all round the garden the birch trees +shed their quivering glory; the very flowers that the three children +had picked for their mother, in the morning, lay on a table fresh and +unfaded; yet it seemed to Elena that years must have passed by since +she stood there, careless and happy. + +"Oh, Boris, come with me!" she cried, passionately, "I can't bear it!" + +Boris, with the tears falling slowly from his eyes, followed his +sister up to the tower, and there they remained till evening, +straining their eyes over the wide stretch of desolate-looking water. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +It was some months afterwards. The flood was over, and the people of +Viletna had begun to rebuild their log houses, and collect what could +be found of their scattered belongings. + +A portion of the great dyke had remained standing, so that the lake +did not completely empty itself; and the peasants were able, with some +help from the Government, to rebuild it. + +Everyone had suffered; but the heaviest blow had fallen upon the great +house, for Madame Olsheffsky never returned to it. Her boat had been +upset and carried away, with the sudden force of the current, and +though Alexis managed to save himself by clinging to an uprooted pine +tree, Madame Olsheffsky had been torn from him, and sucked under by +the rush of the furious water. + +Elena's face had grown pale and thin during these sad weeks, +and she and Boris looked older; for they had begun to face the +responsibilities of life, with no kind mother to stand between them +and the hard reality. + +To add to their misfortunes, the wooden box containing the title-deeds +of their estate, and all their other valuable papers; had been swept +away with the rest of Lawyer Drovnine's property, and there seemed no +chance that it would ever be recovered again. + +In the interval, as no defence was forthcoming, the lawsuit had been +decided in favour of the Olsheffsky's cousin; and the children were +now expecting every day to receive the notice that would turn them out +of their old home, and leave them without a place in the world that +really belonged to them. + +The few relations they had, made no sign to show they knew of their +existence; but they were not without friends, and one of the first and +truest of these was Volodia. + +"Don't trouble about this lawsuit, Elena Andreievna," he said, on one +of his frequent visits to the great house. "If the wickedness of the +world is so great, that they rob you of what rightfully belongs to +you; take no notice of it--it is the will of God. _You_ will come down +with Boris Andreievitch, and Daria Andreievna, to my house, where +there is plenty of room for everyone; and my wife will be proud and +honoured. Then Var-Vara can live with her brother close by--a good +honest man, who is well able to provide for her; and Adam will hire a +little place, and retire with his savings. Alexis shall find a home +for Toulu--You know Alexis works for his father on the farm now, and +is really getting quite active. You see, _Matoushka_, every one is +nicely provided for, and no one will suffer!" + +"But how can we all live with you, when we have no money?" said Elena. +"Good, kind Volodia! It would not be fair for us to be a burden to +you!" + +"How can you talk of burdens, Elena Andreievna! It's quite wrong of +you, and really almost makes me angry! Your grandfather gave me all +the money with which I started in life, and it's no more than paying +back a little of it. Besides, think of the honour! Think what a proud +thing it will be for us. All the village will be envious!" + +Elena smiled sadly. "I suppose we shall have a little money left, +shan't we, Volodia?" + +"Of course, _Matoushka_. Plenty for everything you'll want." + +And so, after much argument and discussion, with many tears and sad +regrets, the three children said good-bye to the great house; and +drove with Toulu down the hill for the last time, to Volodia's large +new wooden house, which had been re-built in a far handsomer style +than the log hut he had lived in formerly. + + +CHAPTER V. + +Fortunately the winter that year was late in coming, so that the +peasants of Viletna were able to build some sort of shelter for +themselves before it set in with real severity. + +Volodia's house, which stood in the centre of the village, had been +finished long before any of his neighbours'. + +"That's what comes of being a rich man," they said to each other, not +grumbling, but stating a fact. "He can employ what men he likes; it is +a fine thing to have money." + +Volodia's shop had always been popular, but with the arrival of the +three children it became ten times more so. + +Everyone wished to show sympathy for their misfortunes; and all those +who were sufficiently well off, brought a little present, and left it +with Volodia's wife, with many mysterious nods and explanations. + +"Don't tell _them_ anything about it, but just cook it. It's a chicken +we reared ourselves--one of those saved from the flood." + +Volodia would have liked to give the things back again, but his wife +declared this would be such an affront to the donors that she really +couldn't undertake to do it. + +"It's not for ourselves, Volodia Ivanovitch, but for those poor +innocent children; I can't refuse what's kindly meant. Many's the +_rouble_ Anna Olsheffsky (of blessed memory) has given to the people +here, and why shouldn't they be allowed to do their part?" + +Meanwhile, Elena and Boris, were getting slowly used to their changed +life. It still seemed more like a dream than a reality; but they began +to feel at home in the wooden house, and Elena had even commenced to +learn some needlework from Var-Vara, and to help Maria in as many ways +as that active old woman would allow of. + +"Don't you touch it, Elena Andreievna," she would say, anxiously, +"it's not fit you should work like us. Leave it to Adam, and Var-Vara, +and me. We're used to it, and it's suitable." + +And so Elena had to give herself up to being waited upon as tenderly +by the old servants, as she had been during their time of happiness at +the great house. + +Boris had no time for brooding, for he was working hard at his lessons +with the village Priest; and as to little Daria, she had quickly +adapted herself to the new surroundings. + +She played with Tulipan, made snow castles in Volodia's side yard, and +whenever she had the chance, enjoyed a sledge drive with Alexis, in +the forest. + +"If only mamma were here, I should be quite happy," she said to Elena. +"It does seem so dreadful, Elena, to think of that horrible flood. You +don't think it will come again, do you?" + +Elena's eyes filled with tears, as she answered reassuringly. + +"You'll see mamma some day, Daria, if you're a very good girl; and +meantime, you know, she would like you to learn your lessons, and be +as obedient as possible to Var-Vara." + +"Well, I do try, Elena, but she is so tiresome sometimes. She won't +let me play with the village children! They're very nice, but she says +they're peasants. I'm sure I try to remember what you teach me, though +the things _are_ so difficult. I'm not so _very_ lazy, Elena!" + +Elena stooped her dark brown head over the little golden one. + +"You're a darling, Daria! I know you do your best, when you don't +forget all about it!" + +Volodia Ivanovitch had devoted his two best rooms to the children. He +had at first wished to give up the whole of his house to them, with +the exception of one bedroom; but Elena had developed a certain +strength of character and resolution during their troubles, and +absolutely refused to listen to this idea; so that finally the old man +was obliged to give way, and turn his attention to arranging the +rooms, in a style of what he considered, surpassing elegance and +comfort. + +They were plain and simple, with fresh boarded walls and pine floors. + +The furniture had all been brought from the great house, chosen by +Volodia with very little idea of its suitability, but because of +something in the colour or form that struck him as being particularly +handsome. + +A large gilt console table, with marble top, and looking glass, took +up nearly one side of Elena's bedroom; and a glass chandelier hung +from the centre of the ceiling--where it was always interfering with +the heads of the unwary. The bed had faded blue satin hangings; and a +large Turkish rug and two ricketty gilt chairs, completed an effect +which Uncle Volodia and his wife considered to be truly magnificent. + +Boris slept in the room adjoining. + +This was turned into a sitting-room in the daytime, and furnished in +the same luxurious manner. Chairs with enormous coats-of-arms, a vast +Dresden china vase with a gilt cover to it; and in the corner a gold +picture of a Saint with a little lamp before it, always kept burning +night and day by the careful Var-Vara--Var-Vara in her bright red +gold-bordered gown, and the strange tiara on her head, decorated with +its long ribbons. + +"If ever they wanted the help of the Saints, it's now," she would say, +as she filled the glass bowl with oil, and hung it up by its chains +again. "The wickedness of men has been too much for them. Aie! Aie! +It's the Lord's will." + + +CHAPTER VI. + +Volodia Ivanovitch's house stood close to the village street, so that +as Elena looked from her windows she could see the long stretch of +white road--the snow piled up in great walls on either side--the two +rows of straggling, half-finished log huts, ending with the ruined +Church, and the new posting-house. + +In the distance, the flat surface of the frozen lake, the dark green +of the pine forest, and the wide stretches of level country; broken +here and there by the tops of the scattered wooden fences. + +Up the street the sledges ran evenly, the horses jangling the bells on +their great arched collars, the drivers in their leather fur-lined +coats, cracking their whips and shouting. + +Now and then a woman, in a thick pelisse, a bright-coloured +handkerchief on her head, would come by; dragging a load of wood or +carrying a child in her arms. + +The air was stilly cold, with a sparkling clearness; the sky as blue +and brilliant as midsummer. + +Elena felt cheered by the exhilarating brightness. She was young, and +gradually she rose from the state of indifference into which she had +fallen, and began to take her old interest in all that was going on +about her. + +"I want to ask you something, Uncle Volodia," she said one day, as +they sat round the _samivar_,[C] for she had begged that they might +have at least one meal together, in the sitting-room. + +[C] Tea-urn. + +Maria was rather constrained on these occasions, seeming oppressed +with the feeling that she must sit exactly in the centre of her chair. +She spread a large clean handkerchief out over her knees, to catch any +crumbs that might be wandering, and fixed her eyes on the children +with respectful solemnity. + +Volodia, on the contrary, always came in smiling genially, in his old +homespun blouse and high boots; and was ready for a game with Daria, +or a romp with Boris, the moment the tea things had been carried away +by his wife. + +"What is it, Elena Andreievna?" he asked. "Nothing very serious, I +hope?" + +"Not very, Uncle Volodia. It's only that I want to learn something--I +want to feel I can _do_ something when our money has gone, for I know +it won't last very long." + +"Why trouble your head about business, Elena Andreievna? You know your +things sold for a great deal, and it is all put away in the wooden +honey-box, in the clothes chest. It will last till you're an old +woman!" + +"But I would like to _feel_ I was earning some money, Uncle Volodia. I +think I might learn to make paper flowers. Don't you think so, dear +Uncle Volodia? You know I began while mamma was with us; the lady in +Mourum taught me. I wish very much to go on with it." + +Uncle Volodia pondered. It might be an amusement for the poor girl, +and no one need know of the crazy notion of selling them. + +"If you like, _Matoushka_. Do just as you like," he said. + +So it was decided that Elena should be driven over to Mourum on the +next market day. + +Volodia had undertaken, in the intervals of shop-keeping, to teach +little Daria how to count; with the elaborate arrangement of small +coloured balls, on a wire frame like a gridiron, with which he added +up his own sums--instead of pencil and paper. + +They sat down side by side with the utmost gravity. Old Volodia with +the frame in one hand, Daria on a low stool, her curly golden head +bent forward over the balls, as she moved them up and down, with a +pucker on her forehead. + +"Two and one's five, and three's seven, and four's twelve, and +six's----" + +"Oh, Daria Andreievna! You're not thinking about what you're doing!" + +"Oh, really I am, Uncle Volodia; but those tiresome little yellow +balls keep getting in the way." + +And then the lesson began all over again, until Daria sprang up with a +laugh, and shaking out her black frock, declared she had a pain in her +neck, and must run about a little! + +"What a child it is!" cried Volodia admiringly. "If she lives to be a +hundred, she'll never learn the multiplication table!" + + +CHAPTER VII. + +A post-sledge was gliding rapidly over the frozen road towards +Viletna; and as it neared the village, a thin worn man, with white +hair, who was sitting in it alone, leant forward and touched the +driver. + +"I want to go to the great house. You remember?" + +"Oh, you're going to see Mikhail? He hasn't come to the great house +yet, though. It's all being done up." + +"No, I'm going to Madame Olsheffsky's!" + +"Anna Olsheffsky! Haven't you heard she was drowned in the flood? +Washed away. Just before the children lost their property to that +thief of a cousin!" + +The driver went on adding the details, not noticing that the gentleman +had fallen back, and lay gasping as if for air. + +"You knew Anna Olsheffsky, perhaps?" he said at last, turning towards +the traveller. Then seeing his face, "Holy Saints! What is the matter? +He'll die surely, and no help to be had!" + +"She was my wife," said the gentleman hoarsely. "You don't remember +me? I am Andre Olsheffsky." + +"To think that I shouldn't have known you, _Barin!_" cried the driver +in great excitement, dropping the reins. "Not that it's much to be +wondered at, and you looking a young man when you left! Welcome home! +Welcome home!" + +"Where are the children?" said Andre Olsheffsky, brokenly. "Perhaps +they're dead, too?" + +"Oh, the children are all well, _Barin_! They are at Volodia +Ivanovitch's." + +"Drive me there, then," said Mr. Olsheffsky; and the sledge dashed off +with a peal of its bells, and drew up with a flourish in front of +Volodia's doorway. + +"Do look out, Elena!" cried Boris, who was carving a wooden man with +an immense pocket-knife. "Here's a sledge stopped, and a funny tall +gentleman getting out--not old, but all white!" + +Elena went to the window, but the stranger had disappeared into the +shop. + +They could hear voices talking, now loud, now soft, then a cry of +astonishment from Maria. The door burst open, and Volodia, his grey +hair flying, the tears rolling down his cheeks, dragged in the +white-haired gentleman by the hand. + +"Oh, children! children! this is a happy day. The _Barin's_ come home. +This is your father!" + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +The next morning Elena and Boris awoke with a delightful feeling of +expectation. + +It seemed impossible to realize that their father had really come back +to them, and that he was dearer and kinder than anything they had +imagined! + +"If only mamma were here," sighed Elena, "_how_ happy we should be!" + +"Perhaps she knows," said Boris soberly. "She always told us papa was +a hero, and I'm sure he looks like one." + +Andre Olsheffsky felt his wife's loss deeply. The children were his +only comfort, and every moment he could spare from his business +affairs he gave to them. + +With Elena he discussed their position seriously. + +It would be impossible, he said, to prove their claim to Madame +Olsheffsky's estate unless the lost box could be recovered, but if +that were ever found the papers inside would completely establish +their right. "I have sent notices to all the peasants, describing the +box, and offering a reward. Who knows, Elena? it _may_ be discovered!" + +Time passed on, and though Mr. Olsheffsky made many expeditions into +the town of Mourum, and drove all round the country, making enquiries +of the peasants, he could hear nothing of the wooden box. + +"It's one of the secrets of the lake," said Volodia. "That's my +opinion; it's lying snugly at the bottom there; and it's no good +looking for it anywhere else." + +But Mr. Olsheffsky continued his enquiries. + +One day, just as Daria and Var-Vara were about to start for a morning +walk--Elena and Boris having gone for a drive with their father--an +old man in a rough sheep-skin coat and plaited bark shoes came up to +the house door, and taking off his high felt hat respectfully, asked +if he could speak to the _Barin_.[D] + +[D] Master. + +"The master has gone out," said Var-Vara, "but I daresay you can see +him in the afternoon. Have you anything particular to ask him?" + +"Nothing to ask, but something to show," and the old man blinked his +eyes cunningly. + +"Not the wooden box!" screamed Daria. "Oh, let's go at once! Come, +Var-Vara! _What_ a surprise for papa when he gets back! _Is_ it the +wooden box? You might tell me," cried Daria, fixing her blue eyes on +the old _mujik_'s face pleadingly. + +"It may be, and it mayn't be," replied the old man. "You may come +along with me if you like, Daria Andreievna. I'll show you the way to +where I live--near the forest, you know. Of course, I've heard all +about the reward," he continued, "and as I was clearing a bit of my +yard this morning, what should I find but a heap of something +hard--pebbles, and drift, and sticks, and such like. When I came to +sorting it out--for I thought, 'Why waste good wood, when you can burn +it? the good God doesn't like waste'--I struck against the corner of +something hard, and there was a----. Well, what do you think, Daria +Andreievna?" + +"A box! A box!" cried Daria, seizing one of the old man's hands, and +dancing round him in an ecstasy of delight. + +"Not at all, Daria Andreievna! The legs of an old chair." + +Daria's face fell. "I don't see why you come to tell papa you've found +an old chair!" she said crossly. + +"Stop a bit, _Matoushka_. There's more to come. Where was I?" + +"The chair! You'd just found it," said Daria, pulling at his hand +impatiently. + +"So I had. A chair! Well, it had no back, and as I pulled it out it +felt heavy, very heavy. It wasn't much to look at--a poor chair I +should call it--and I thought, '_This_ isn't much of a find;' but +there inside it was something sticking as tight as wax!" + +"The box!" cried Daria, "I felt sure of it!" and seizing Var-Vara by +one hand, and the _mujik_ by the other, she dragged them down the +street, the old peasant remonstrating and grumbling. + +"Not so fast, Daria Andreievna!" said Var-Vara, gasping for breath at +the sudden rush. "Let Ivan go first; he knows the way!" + +Daria could scarcely control her impatience during the walk. + +"Make haste, Var-Vara! we shall never get there," she kept crying; and +old Var-Vara, who was stout, and had on a heavy fur pelisse, arrived +at the hut in a state of breathless exhaustion. + +"Aie! Aie! what a child it is! Show her the box now, Ivan, or we shall +have no peace." + +Ivan went to the corner of his hut, where a large object stood on the +top of the whitewashed stove under a red and yellow pocket-handkerchief. +He carefully uncovered it, and stepping back a few paces said proudly, + +"What do you think of _that_, now?" + +It was the box, safe and unhurt, Madame Olsheffsky's name still on it +in scratched white letters. + +Daria was wild with joy, and almost alarmed Ivan with her excitement. +She danced about the room, threw her arms round his neck, and finally +persuaded him to carry the box to Volodia's house, so that it might be +there as a delightful surprise to her father on his return. + + +CHAPTER IX. + +The children, Volodia and his wife, Var-Vara, and Adam; all stood +round eagerly as Andre Olsheffsky superintended the forcing open of +the precious box. + +"It's my belief the papers will be a pulp," whispered Volodia. "We +must be ready to stand by the _Barin_ when he finds out the +disappointment." + +But the papers were not hurt. The box contained another tin-lined +case, in which the parchments had lain securely, and though damaged in +appearance, they were as legible as the day on which they were first +written. + +"Oh, papa, I _am_ so glad!" shouted Boris and Daria; and Elena +silently took her father's hand. + +"I always thought the _Barin_ would have his own again," cried Volodia +triumphantly, forgetting that only a moment before he had been full of +dismal prophecies. + +Adam and Var-Vara wept for joy, and Ivan stood by smiling +complacently. He felt that all this happiness had been brought about +entirely by his own exertions, and he already had visions of the +manner in which he would employ the handsome reward. + +"No more troubling about my old age," he thought. "I shall have as +comfortable a life as the best of them." + +That evening Mr. Olsheffsky started for Moscow, carrying the +parchments with him. + +The two months of his absence seemed very long to the children, though +they heard from him constantly; and there were great rejoicings when +he returned with the news that their affairs had at last been +satisfactorily settled. Mikhail Paulovitch had withdrawn his claim, +and the great house was their own again. + +All the peasants of the neighbourhood came in a body to congratulate +them. Those who could not get into Volodia's little sitting-room +remained standing outside, and looked in respectfully through the +window; while the spokesman read a long speech he had prepared for the +occasion. + +Mr. Olsheffsky made an appropriate reply, and then, turning to Volodia +and the old servants, he thanked them in a few simple words for their +goodness to the children. + +"You might have knocked me flat down with a birch twig," said Uncle +Volodia afterwards, when talking it over with Adam. "The idea of +thanking _us_ for what was nothing at all but a real pleasure! He's a +good man, the _Barin_!" + +The springtime found the children and their father settled once more +in their old home, with Adam, Var-Vara, and Alexis; and life flowing +on very much as it had always done, except for the absence of the +gentle, motherly, Anna Olsheffsky. + +Uncle Volodia continued to look after his shop with zeal; and the two +rooms with the gilt furniture, which Mr. Olsheffsky had insisted on +his not removing, became objects of the greatest pride and joy to him. + +He never allowed anyone but himself to dust them, and in spare moments +he polished the looking-glass with a piece of leather, kept carefully +for the purpose in a cigar box. + +"It's a great pleasure to me," he remarked one day to a neighbour, "to +think that when I leave this house to Boris Andreievitch--as I intend +to do, after old Maria--it will have two rooms that are fit for_any_one +of the family to sleep in. He'll never have to be ashamed of _them_!" + +On his seventieth birthday, Elena--now grown a tall slim young lady, +with grave brown eyes--persuaded him that it was really time to take a +little rest, and enjoy himself. + +He thereupon sold his stock, and devoted himself to gardening in the +yard at the back of his house; where he would sit on summer evenings +smoking his pipe, in the midst of giant dahlias and sunflowers. + +Here Daria often came with Boris and Tulipan; and sitting by Uncle +Volodia's side, listened to the well-known stories she had heard since +her babyhood--always ending up with the same words in a tone of great +solemnity-- + +"And _this_, children, is a true story, every word of it!" + + + + +THE ANGEL AND THE LILIES. + +A Norwegian Story. + +It was a room at the top of a rough wooden house in Norway. Though it +was only a garret, it was all very white and clean; and little Erik +Svenson lay in the small bed facing the barred window, through which +the moonbeams streamed till they seemed to turn the walls into +polished silver. + +As Erik tossed about, he heard his mother working in the room below. + +The _thump, thump,_ of her iron, as she wearily finished the last of +the clothes, that must be sent home to the rich family at the +farmhouse, early next morning. + +"Poor mother! how hard she works," thought Erik, "and I can't do more +than mind Farmer Torvald's boat on the fiord. If I could only be +employed in the town, I might be able to help her!" + +_Thump_, _thump_, went the iron. The clock chimed twelve, and still +the poor washerwoman smoothed and folded, though her heavy eyes almost +refused to keep open, and the room began to feel the chill of the +frosty air outside. + +"Erik sha'n't want for anything while I have two arms to work for +him," she said to herself; and went on until the iron fell from her +tired hand, and she sank back in her chair in a deep sleep. + +Erik, too, had closed his eyes, and was dreaming happily, when he was +awakened by the brush of something light and soft, across his pillow. + +Starting up, he saw that the moon was still brilliant, and in its +clearest rays stood a faint white figure, with shadowy wings +outstretched behind it. + +A vapoury garment enveloped it, and the face seemed young and +beautiful. + +"Oh, how wonderful! How wonderful you are!" cried Erik. "Why have I +never seen you before?" + +"I am Vanda, the Spirit of the Moon," said the Angel gently. "Only to +those who are in need of help can I become visible. Your mother knows +me well. Winter and summer, I have soothed her to sleep; and to-night, +as you looked from the window, your thoughts joined mine, and I was +able to come to you. What will you ask of me?" + +"Oh, Vanda, dear Vanda! Show me how to help my mother; I ask nothing +else!" cried Erik. + +He jumped from his bed, and threw himself at the feet of the shadowy +Angel. + +"Do you see that window?" said the Moon-Spirit, pointing to the small +panes that were now covered with a delicate tracery of glittering +frost-work. "Of what do those patterns remind you?" + +[Illustration] + +"Of flowers!" cried Erik. "I have often thought so. Sometimes I can +see grasses, and boughs, and roses, but _always_ lilies, because they +are so white and spotless." + +The Angel smiled softly. + +"To-night I shall shine upon them, and make them live," she said. +"Take what you will find upon the window sill at sunrise, and sell +them in the town. Bring the money back to your mother at night-time." + +With the last words the Moon-Spirit melted into the white light, +leaving Erik with a feeling of the happiest expectation. + +Long before daybreak he was awake, and his first thought was of the +wonderful ice-flowers. Would the Angel have kept her promise? What +would he see awaiting him? + +As the rays of the sun shot over the fiord, he sprang out of bed and +ran to the window. There lay a bunch of beautiful white lilies, +nestling in a mass of delicate moss-like green. + +"They _are_ the frost-flowers!" cried Erik, and wild with joy he +rushed into his mother's room, and held the bunch up for her to look +at. + +"Look, look, mother! See what we have had given us. We shall soon have +enough money to rent the little farm you have always been longing +for!" + + * * * * * + +Erik's visit to the town was very successful. He sold his flowers +directly, although he had some difficulty in answering all the +questions of the townspeople, who wanted to know where he had grown +such delicate things in the middle of a severe winter. To everyone he +replied that it was a secret; and they were obliged to be contented. + +He returned home in good time for his work upon the fiord, and if it +had not been for the store of silver pieces he poured into his +mother's work-box, he would almost have imagined that he had only been +dreaming. + +That night, as he laid his curly head upon the pillow, his mind was +full of thoughts about the Moon-Angel. He wondered if she would appear +again, and whether she would once more leave him her gift of the white +frost-flowers. + +The moon shone with silvery clearness into the garret; and as the boy +strained his eyes towards the window, the bright form slowly floated +through the bars and stretched a pale hand towards him. + +"You have done well, to-day, Erik. Look to-morrow, and to-morrow, and +to-morrow, until my light has waned and faded; and every day you will +find the lilies waiting for you." + +Again Erik felt the soft brush of Vanda's wings, and she disappeared +in the path of the moonbeams. + +The next morning the flowers lay fresh and fair upon the window-sill, +and for days the frost-lilies were always blooming. + +But each time the bunch grew smaller and smaller, until at last, when +the moon was nothing more than a thread of brightness, Erik found one +single blossom lying half drooping on the window-frame. + +"Vanda's gifts have ended," thought Erik, "but she has been a good +true friend to us! We have gained enough money for my mother to put +away her iron, and take the little farmhouse by the fiord. How happy +we shall be together." + + * * * * * + +The winter was nearly over, and Erik and his mother had settled down +to their happy life in the farmhouse. + +Frost-flowers, with delicate fantastic groupings, still bloomed upon +the window-panes; but the Moon-Angel was not there to give them her +fairy-like gifts of life and beauty. + +She had gone to console other struggling workers. + + + + +THE ALPEN-ECHO. + +Long, long years ago, a young girl wandering with her herd of goats +upon the Mettenalp, lost her way amidst a mountain storm, and fell +into a chasm of the rock, where she lay white and lifeless. + +The terrified goats reached the valley beneath, but the young girl was +never again heard of. + +The spirits of the great mountain had claimed her for an Alpen-Echo, +and every day, for hundreds of years after, she floated amongst the +snow-covered peaks and crags of the Mettenalp, answering every horn +that sounded from the hunters or cow-herds, with a soft, sweet note, +so sad and distant it was like a soul in pain, and tears came to your +eyes--you knew not why--as you listened to its exquisite music. + +"Come, follow me! Follow me to my secret haunts," wailed the Echo. +"Give me my soul! Give me my soul!"--but no one through all the +centuries had ever climbed to the Echo's hiding-place. + +"If _only_ I could make them understand!" sobbed the Echo, "my long +bondage would cease. The first foot that treads my prison, frees me, +and gives me rest." + + * * * * * + +However, all the world was too busy to listen to the poor Echo, and +she called and cried in vain through the misty ages! + + * * * * * + +A boy, with a long Alpen-horn in his hand, stood by a chalet far away +in the wilds of Switzerland. Every now and then he blew a few wailing +notes upon the horn--notes that echoed across the valley, up to the +snow-covered heights beyond--and he smiled as the answer floated +clearly back again. + +"The echoes are talking together, to-day," he said to himself. "They +love the bright air and the sunshine;" and again he blew a long, +changing note, that died away softly into the far distance. + +"_Tra-la-la-a-a_" came faintly from the opposite mountain--but to the +boy's astonishment the echo did not now cease, and fade away, as it +always had done before. It shifted from point to point; its elfin +tones ringing sweet and sad like the bugle of a Fairy Huntsman. + +All that day the Echo sounded in the boy's ears, all night it +whispered amongst the mountain tops; and as soon as it became daylight +he sprang up, determined that he would climb the side of the opposite +valley, and find out the reason of the strange music. + +A pale-green light tinged the sky, the mountains looked dark and +forbidding, and from the peaks above came the soft sighing of the +distant Echo. + +"It is like a soul in pain," thought the boy. "I _must_ find out what +it means!" and he began to climb higher and higher, until the valley +lay far beneath him, and his home looked a little brown speck amidst a +sea of fields and pine trees. + +Before him still sounded the Elfin voice, now dying into a whisper, +now ringing clear and distinct, as though close beside him--but always +with the same beseeching sadness: "Follow me! Follow me to my secret +haunts! Give me my soul! Give me my soul!" And the boy climbed on +until he reached the rocky crag which formed the summit of the +mountain. + +"At last!" he cried, as he stretched out his arms to clasp the Echo's +fairy-like form that floated mistily before him ... but the Echo had +faded from his sight as he approached her; and her last words were +borne faintly towards him as she vanished into the golden glory of the +sunshine-- + +"At last! At last! I am at rest at last!" + + * * * * * + +The boy had learnt the secret of the Alpen-Echo. He had freed her soul +from its long bondage, and a few days afterwards they found him lying +with a smile upon his face on the topmost peak of the Mettenalp. + + + + +THE SCROLL IN THE MARKET PLACE. + +In the pale light of the moon the sleeping town lay hushed and +noiseless. At its foot the river rolled, spanned by the curves of the +old grey stone bridge, and behind rose the giant hills, clothed with +tracts of pine and birch trees. A high wall surrounded the town, with +towers at intervals, from which gleamed the light of the watchmen's +lanterns. + +All was silent on the earth and in the air, when through the deep blue +of the star-sprinkled sky a little Child-Angel winged his way from +Heaven, and hovering over the steep red roofs beneath him, folded his +wings and dropped softly into the deserted Market Place. In his hand +he held a Scroll with strange writing upon it, and crossing the Square +over the rough cobblestones, he fixed the paper to the Fountain, and +spreading his white wings, flew up again to the home from which he +came. + +Next day the country people flocking into the Market Place saw to +their astonishment a track of beautiful white flowers springing up +from amongst the cobblestones, and stretching from one corner of the +Square to the Fountain. + +They were star-like flowers, with bright-green leaves, and they grew +in patches--"like a child's footsteps," the women said. + +A little crowd soon gathered round the paper fastened to the ancient +Fountain. On the top of the Scroll was written, very clearly--"All +those who can read the words beneath shall be rewarded generously," +but the lines that followed were in a strange language, and in such +crabbed characters that they defied every effort to decipher them. + +All day the crowd ebbed and flowed round the Fountain, while the +learned men of the town came with their dictionaries under their arms +and spectacles on nose, and sat on stools, attempting to make out the +crooked letters of the inscription. + +In the end each one decided upon a different language, and the +argument became so warm between them that they had to be separated by +a party of watchmen, and conducted back again to their own houses. + +Professors from the University on the other side of the mountains +journeyed over the rough roads, and brought their learning to the old +stone Fountain in the Market Place--but they, too, went away +discomfited. + +No one could read the strange writing, and no one could pull down the +paper, for it appeared to be fixed to the stone by some means that +made it impossible to tear it away. + +Time went on, and the snow covered up the Market Square, threw a white +mantle over the steep roofs, and buried the old gardens in its soft +deepness. + +In one of the houses near the spot where the little Angel had first +touched the earth lived a poor, lonely woman. She worked all day at +some fine kind of needlework, but when, in the evenings, the sun had +set and the twilight began to fall, she would steal out for a few +minutes to breathe the fresh air. Often, though she was so wearied +with her incessant stitching, she would carry in her hand a flower +from the plants that grew in her latticed window to a neighbour's sick +child. It was a weary climb up a steep flight of stairs to the attic +where the sick child lay, but it was reward enough to the woman to see +the bright smile that lighted up the little drawn face as she laid the +flower on the counterpane. + +All the summer the poor sempstress had been too busy during the +daylight, to afford time even to cross the Square to study the strange +paper on the Fountain. "If learned men cannot read it, a poor ignorant +woman like me could certainly never do so," she said to the child, and +the little girl looked up at her with tender love in her eyes. + +"You are so good, you could do _anything_," she whispered, and clasped +the worn hand on which the needle-pricks had left the marks of many +long years of patient sewing. "I should like to see the paper so +much," continued the child, after a thoughtful pause. "I wish I could +walk there, but it is so long since I walked, and the snow is so deep +now," and she sighed. + +"Some day, if the good God pleases, I will carry you there," said the +workwoman--and the child as she lay patiently on her little bed, +dreamt and dreamt of the mysterious paper that no one could read, +until the longing to see it became uncontrollable, and her friend the +sempstress promised that she would spare an hour the next day from her +work, and if the sun shone she would carry the invalid across the +Market Place to the old stone Fountain. + +The next morning the child's face was bright with anticipation, as the +woman wrapped her in a warm shawl and carried her fragile weight down +the staircase. The cobblestones hurt the poor sempstress's feet, and +she staggered under the light burden, but she persevered, for the +child's murmurs of delight rang in her ears-- + +"How sweetly the sun shines! How white the snow looks! How beautiful, +how _beautiful_ it is to be alive!" + +When they reached the Fountain the sun shone brightly upon the Angel's +Scroll. + +The workwoman seated herself on one of the swept stone steps, still +holding the child in her arms, and they gazed long and earnestly at +the writing above them. + +Gradually a smile of delight spread across both their faces. "It is +quite, _quite_ easy!" they cried together. "How is it people have been +puzzling so long?"--for as they looked the crabbed letters unrolled +before them, straightened, and arranged themselves in order, and the +Angel's message was read by the poor workwoman and the sick child. + +"Love God, and live for others," said the Scroll, and a soft light +seemed to stream from it and shed a glow of happiness right into the +hearts of the two who read it. The air was warmer, the sun shone more +brightly, and just by the foot of the Fountain, pushing through the +snow, sprang one blue head of palest forget-me-not. + +As the letters on the Scroll became plainer and plainer, the paper +slowly rolled up and shrunk away, until it had disappeared altogether. + +The sempstress carried back the child up the steep staircase, laid her +tenderly on her bed, and hurried away to her own attic. + +In her absence strange things had happened. The room was swept and +tidy, the flowers were watered, and the piece of work she had left +half done was lying finished on the broad window seat. The poor woman +looked round her in astonishment. She went downstairs to enquire if +any neighbours had prepared this surprise for her, but they only +stared at her, and told her "she must have left her wits in the Market +Place," and that "that was what came of leaving your own duties to +look after other people's." + +The sempstress did not listen to their taunts, for a song of joy was +welling up in her heart--a song so sweet and true, it might have been +the echo of that sung by the angels. Never had life seemed so +beautiful to her. The ill looks of the neighbours appeared to her to +be smiles of kindness and love; their hard speeches sounded soft and +altered; the steep stairs to her room were not so steep, her attic not +so bare and desolate. Life was no longer lonely, for the song in her +heart brought her all the happiness she had ever hoped for. + +The sick child, too, found the same wonderful change in all that +surrounded her. The aunt with whom she lived, who had always been so +careless and unloving, now seemed to the child to be kind and gentle. +Her aching back was less painful, her thoughts as she lay on her bed +were bright and happy. The Angel's message had brought sunshine to the +lives of the only two who could read and understand it. + + * * * * * + +In time the sick child went to live with the sempstress, and their +love for each other grew and strengthened, and overflowed in a +thousand little acts of kindness to all who came near them. Their room +was filled with brightness. The birds flew to perch on the window-sill +and sing in the early mornings; flowers bloomed in the cracks of the +old stonework; the sempstress sang as she worked, and whenever she +left her sewing to carry the child out into the Market Place to +breathe the fresh air she would find her work finished when she +returned. + +"It was a happy day that we read the message in the Market Place," she +said to the sick child; "indeed we have been rewarded generously." + + + + +A SCRAP OF ETRUSCAN POTTERY. + +Deep down in a buried Etruscan tomb there lay a little three-cornered +piece of pottery. + +It had some letters on it and a beautiful man's head, and had belonged +to a King some three thousand years ago. + +Its only companions were a family of moles; for everything else had +been taken out of the tomb so long ago that no one remembered anything +about it. + +"What a dull life mine is," groaned the piece of pottery. "No +amusement, and no society! It's enough to make one smash oneself to +atoms!" + +"Dull, but safe," replied the Mole, who never took the least notice of +the three-cornered Chip's insults. "And then, remember the dignity. +You have the whole tomb to yourself." + +"Except for you," said the Chip ungraciously. + +"Well, we must live somewhere," said the Mole, quite unmoved, "and I'm +sure we don't interfere. I always bring up my children to treat you +with the greatest respect, in spite of your being cr-r--br-r--. I +_should_ say, not quite so large as you used to be." + +"If only you had belonged to a King," sighed the Chip, "I might have +had someone of my own class to talk to." + +"I don't wish to belong to a King," said the Mole. "There's nothing I +should dislike more. I am for a Liberal Government, and no farming." + +"What vulgarity!" cried the Chip. + +"It's a blessing it's dark, and he can't see the children laughing," +thought the Mole-mother, "or I don't know what would happen." + +"Everything that belonged to a King should be treated with Royal +respect," continued the Chip. + +"As to that, I really haven't time for it," replied the Mole; "what +with putting the children to bed, and getting them up again, and all +my work in the passages, I can't devote myself to Court life." + +"If you like, you can represent the people," said the Chip. "_I_ don't +mind, only then I can't talk to you." + +"You can read out Royal Decrees, and make laws," said the Mole; and to +herself she added, "It won't disturb me. I shan't take any notice of +them." + +"Who's to be nobles?" said the Chip, crossly. "I'd rather not do the +thing at all, if it can't be done properly!" + +"Well, I can't be people and nobles too, that's quite certain," +remarked the Mole-mother, as she tidied up her house. "Besides, the +children are too young--they wouldn't understand." + +"What's it like up above?" enquired the Chip languidly after a short +pause, for it was almost better to speak to the Mole, than to nobody. +"People still walk on two legs?" + +"Why, of course," answered the Mole, "there's never any difference in +people, that _I_ can see. They're always exactly alike, except in +tempers." + +The Chip was sitting upon a little stone-heap against one of the +pillars. He fondly imagined it was a Throne; and the Mole-mother, with +the utmost good nature, had never undeceived him. + +As the last words were spoken, a lump of earth fell from the roof, +flattening out the stone-heap, and the Chip only escaped destruction +by rolling on one side, where he lay shaking with fright and calling +to the Mole-mother to help him. But the Mole had retired with her +family to a place of safety. She knew what was happening. The tomb was +being opened by a party of antiquarians, and in a few more minutes the +blue sky shone into the darkness, and the three-cornered piece of +pottery was lying wrapped in paper in the pocket of one of the +explorers. + + * * * * * + +When the Chip recovered himself, he found he was reclining on the +velvet floor of a large glass case full of Etruscan vases. Here was +the society he had been pining for all his life! + +"What are Moles compared to this?" he said to himself, and quivered +with joy at the thought of the pleasures before him. + +"How did that broken thing come into our Division?" enquired a Red +Dish with two handles. + +"I can't imagine! The Director put him in just now," replied a Black +Jug. "It's not what we're accustomed to. Everything in here is +perfect." + +The Chip lay for a moment, dumb with horror and astonishment. + +"I belonged to a King," he gasped at last. "You can look at the name +written on me." + +"You may have names written all over you, for all I care," said the +Dish. "You're a Chip, and no King can make you anything else"--and she +turned away haughtily. + +"And to think that for all those years the Mole-mother was never once +rude to me!" thought the Chip. "She was a person of _real_ refinement. +Whatever shall I do if I have to be shut up with these ill-bred +people?" he groaned miserably. + +"How the woodwork does creak!" said the Director as he came up to the +glass case, with a young lady to whom he was showing the treasures of +the Museum. + +"That's the most recent discovery," he continued smiling and pointing +to the three-cornered piece of pottery--"All I found in my last +digging." + +"It has a beautiful head on it," said the young lady, "I should be +quite satisfied if I could ever find anything so pretty." + +"Will you have it?" said the Director of the Museum, who after all was +only a young man; looking at the young lady earnestly. + +She took the despised Chip in her little hand. + +"Thank you very much. It will be a great treasure," she said--and +looking up at her face, the three-cornered piece of pottery knew that +a happy life was in store for him. + + * * * * * + +"In spite of the rudeness of my own people, I am in the Museum after +all," remarked the Chip, as some months afterwards he hung on a +bracket on the wall of the young lady's sitting room. "In what a +superior position, too! _They_ only belong to the Director, but _I_ +belong to the Director's wife!" + + + + +THE GOATS ON THE GLACIER. + + +CHAPTER I. + +The Heif Goats lived close to the Heifen Glacier, one of the largest +in Switzerland. In fact, their Chalet, or the cavern which they +christened by that name, overhung the steepest precipice, and was +inaccessible to anyone except its proprietors. + +"It is such a comfort to be secluded in these disturbed times," the +Goat-mother often remarked to her husband. "If I lived near a high +road I should never know a _moment's_ happiness. The children are so +giddy, they would be gambolling about round the very wheels of the +char-a-bancs, turning head over heels for halfpence, before I could +cry Goats-i-tivy!" + +The whole glacier valley swarmed with the kin of the Goat family. +There were the bond-slaves who worked for the peasants, and the free +Goats who possessed their own caves, cultivated their ground +industriously, and lived greatly on the sandwich papers left by +tourists in the summer-time. + +"Such a treat, especially the light yellow sort with printing, that +always has crumbs in it," said the Goat-mother. "It makes a delicious +meal. We generally have it on fete days." + +The family of the Heif Goats consisted of the Heif-father, his wife, +and their four children, Heinrich, Lizbet, Pyto, and Lenora. + +The young Goats had been brought up with some severity by their +parents, who had old-fashioned notions with regard to discipline; and +three things had been especially enjoined upon them from their +infancy. Always to speak the truth, never to mess their clean +pinafores, and last, but not least, _never_ to play with the Chamois! + +"They are too wild and frivolous," the Goat-mother used to say, with a +nod of her frilled cap. "Such very long springs are in exceedingly bad +taste. The Chamois have _no_ repose of manner." + +Under this system the children grew up very well-behaved. The +daughters worked in the house, the sons helped their father; and in +the evening they all descended to the Glacier to collect any remnants +of food left by the endless stream of visitors, who all through the +summer toiled up to the Eismeer, and down again to the Inn on the +other side of the valley. + +These travellers were a perpetual source of interest and amusement to +the Goat family. + +They could never quite make out what they were doing, but the +Heif-mother finally decided that their journeys must be some religious +or national observance. + +"People would never struggle about on the ice like that--tied to each +other with ropes, too!--unless it was a painful duty," she said. "I +consider it very praiseworthy." + +Sometimes the young Goats in their invisible eyrie, would go off into +shouts of merriment as a group of excursionists crawled slowly into +sight; the ladies in their short skirts and large flapping hats, +alpenstock in hand, clinging desperately to the guides as they +ascended every slippery ice-peak. + +But on these occasions the Goat-mother always reproved them. + +"Remember," she would say severely, "that because people are +ridiculous you shouldn't be unmannerly. They can't help their +appearance, poor things! They may think themselves quite as good as we +are." + +"Well, at all events, we don't look like _that_," said Lizbet. "I am +sure you would never allow it." + +The principal news from the outer world was brought to the Heif family +by a Stein-bok pedlar, who wandered about the country with his wares, +and was so popular that he was a friend of all classes, and supplied +even the Chamois with their groceries and tobacco. + +He generally arrived at the Chalet on the first of every month, and +spread out his wares on the grass plot in front of the cave, while the +Goat-mother and her children walked up and down, and bargained +good-humouredly for anything they had taken a fancy to. + + +CHAPTER II. + +It was a bright sunny day, and the Goat-mother sat with her daughters +at the door of the cavern. The Goat-father had gone off by himself to +get some provisions at a village on the opposite side of the Glacier, +and Heinrich and Pyto were digging in the fields at the back of the +Chalet; when the Stein-bok, in his well-known brown cloth coat, +appeared panting up the narrow pathway. + +Throwing himself down on a stone bench, he tossed his Tyrolese hat on +to the ground, and fanned himself with his handkerchief. + +"Good morning, Herr Stein-bok. You seem exhausted," said the +Goat-mother. + +"I am, ma'am, and well I may be. Five miles with twenty pounds on my +back is no joke, I can assure you." + +"Shall I bring you a glass of lager-beer?" enquired the Heif-mother. + +"It would be acceptable, ma'am, and then I will tell you my news. +You've heard nothing of the Goat-father, have you?" + +"Nothing," said the Goat-mother. "I am beginning to feel very nervous. +I never knew him to stay away two days before." + +The Stein-bok looked round darkly. + +"I have something to tell you," he whispered. "Prepare for bad news. +The Goat-father has been captured." + +The Heif-mother gave a wild shriek, and fell back upon Lizbet, who was +peeling potatoes in the doorway. + +"When--where--how--who--what?" she cried frantically. "Tell me at +once, or I shall faint away." + +"Be calm, ma'am," said the Stein-bok soothingly. "I heard it from the +Chamois, who have a habit of bounding about everywhere, as you know. +Your dear husband reached the middle of the Glacier in safety, +when--being hampered by a satchel and a green cotton umbrella--he fell +in attempting to jump an ice-pinnacle, and sprained his foot so +severely that he was unable to move. Though he bleated loudly for +help, no one came except some huntsmen who were in search of Chamois. +They picked him up, and dragged him to the Inn on the other side of +the valley, where he was locked up securely in a shed, and there he is +at the present moment." + +"My brave Heif in prison! He will never, never survive it!" cried the +Goat-mother, shedding tears in profusion. + +"Oh yes he will, ma'am," replied the Stein-bok, "they're not going to +kill him, their idea is to take him down to the village." + +"_That_ they shall never do!" cried the Heif-mother, starting up, "not +if I go myself to rescue him! Go, Lizbet, and call your brothers. We +must consult together immediately." + +Lizbet darted off, and the Stein-bok continued. + +"I have still something else I must let you know, ma'am. As our great +poet observes-- + + 'Whenever green food fades away, + Some dire misfortune comes the self-same day.' + +In plain words, troubles never come singly. I discovered while having +a friendly game of dominoes with the Head Chamois, that they intend to +seize upon your house next Tuesday, in the absence of the +Heif-father." + +"And to-day is Friday!" shrieked the Goat-mother. "Oh! this is hard +indeed!" + +[Illustration] + +"Compose yourself, ma'am, and listen to my advice," said the Pedlar. +"You lock up your house, or leave me in charge with Lizbet and Lenora, +and you and the two other children start off at once to ask the help +of the Goat-king. He is a mild, humane creature, and will very likely +order out a detachment of the 'Free-will' goats to help to defend your +household." + +"That is the only thing to do," said the Goat-mother mournfully. "I +certainly know the way, for of course I have always been to the yearly +Goat Assembly, but I always started three days before the meeting, and +went down the back of the mountain, over the slopes. I don't know how +I'm to manage the short cut." + +"Oh, easy enough, ma'am," replied the Stein-bok; "you'll get on very +well. Don't go in goloshes, though, for they will be sure to catch on +the nails. I wouldn't wear my waterproof mantle either--too large for +a walking tour. Put on a shawl, and tie it round you." + +By this time Heinrich and Pyto had hastily dressed themselves in +out-door costume, and the Goat-mother was rushing about her house, +collecting an extraordinary number of things, which the Stein-bok had +some difficulty in persuading her not to take with her. + +"_Not_ sugar nippers, ma'am, I _beg_; or your large work-box, or the +mincing machine! Quite useless on a long journey; and your best cap +you won't want, I assure you." + +"I thought I might perhaps wait a moment in the ante-room and put it +on before entering the presence of Royalty," bleated the Goat-mother. +"But no doubt you know best." + +The luggage was at last reduced to a small leather handbag; and the +Goat-mother, after solemnly bestowing her blessing on Lizbet and +Lenora, and the door-key on the Stein-bok, set off down the garden +path with her children, upon their adventures. + + +CHAPTER III. + +Meanwhile, the Goat-father was languishing in a dark shed attached to +the Inn on the other side of the Glacier. His bleats had failed to +attract any attention. In fact the only person who had heard him at +all, had been an old Goat-slave, who while browsing on the hillside +with a bell round his neck, had been attracted by the cries, and +creeping up to the shed, peeped through a crack to see what could be +the matter. + +"Is there anyone near?" enquired the Goat-father in a whisper. + +"No. There's a party in the Inn, but they are too busy eating to take +any notice of us. I am just loitering here, in case there should be +any pieces of sandwich paper flying about." + +"Is there any chance of my making my escape?" enquired the +Heif-father. "Are they very watchful people?" + +"Excessively so," replied the old Slave. "I've never been able to get +away for the last ten years." + +The Goat-father groaned. "Then it wouldn't be possible for you to take +a message to my family?" + +"Quite impossible, my dear friend, I assure you. Can't you find any +crack in the shed where you could break through?" + +"There's _nothing_," cried the Goat-father. "I've searched round and +round, and the door is as strong and tight as a prison." + +"Well, I'll go off and see if I can find a messenger," said the old +Slave good-naturedly. "Perhaps the old fox would manage it." + +"A fox! Oh, I don't think _that_ would do," said the Heif-father. "It +mightn't be safe for my family." + +"Oh, _he's_ all right," said the Slave. "He's been in captivity so +long, it's taken all the spirit out of him. He might live in a +farmyard. He's a good-natured creature, too, and I daresay he'll go to +oblige me." + +The Goat-father pulled a band and buckle off his necktie, and poked it +under the door. + +"Not to eat!" he whispered warningly, "but for the fox to take with +him, that my wife may know the message comes from me; and be quick +about it, my good friend, for I really am positively starving!" + +"All right," said the old Goat, "I'll send the fox off, and come back +in a few minutes to bring you some stale cabbage leaves." + +"A friend in need, is a friend indeed!" murmured the Goat-father; and +went to sleep that night with more hope than he had felt since the +moment of his capture. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +"Come along, mother," cried Heinrich, grasping the Heif-mother's hand +as they left the garden before their Chalet, and commenced the +dangerous descent of the mountain. + +Far below them they could see the great stretch of the dazzlingly +white Glacier, with its rents and fissures shining greenly in the +sunshine. On either side rose bare crags topped with grass, and above +all, the snowy summits of the mountains. + +The first part of the journey led along a narrow pathway, which the +Goat-mother managed very successfully, but when they came to the +precipice on which rough iron spikes had been driven at long intervals +to assist the climber, her heart failed her, and in spite of her +desire to hurry, she entangled her shawl and dress so constantly on +the nails, that her children began to fear she would never reach the +level of the Glacier. + +At last, however, the little party succeeded in making their way +across the Eismeer, and arrived without further mishap at the river +leading to the Goat-King's Palace. + +This river flowed on the centre of the Glacier, between steep banks +of transparent ice, every now and again disappearing into some vast +cavern, where it swept with a hollow echoing under the ice-field. + +"Follow me, mother," said Heinrich. "I see the entrance to the Palace +just in front of us." + +The Goat-mother gathered up her skirts, and assisted by Pyto, began to +scramble down the bank to the side of the streamlet. + +"Where is the boat kept?" she enquired. + +"In a snowdrift close to the entrance," replied Heinrich. "Don't jump +about near the crevasses, Pyto, and I'll go and fetch it." + +The boat was soon dragged from its hiding place, and Heinrich paddled +it to the spot where the Goat-mother was resting on a snow-bank. + +She embarked with some nervousness, clutching desperately at her +handbag. They pushed off, and were immediately carried by the current +through the little round opening of the cave into the pale green +glistening depths of the mysterious world beyond. + + +CHAPTER V. + +There was no need for the Heif family to row. They were swept along +past the ice walls, and in a few minutes reached the Goat-King's +landing-place. A small inlet with a flat shore, on which were +arranged two camp stools and a piece of red carpet. + +"Here we are at last, dear children," said the Goat-mother. "What a +relief it is, to be sure! Is my bonnet straight, Pyto? and do pull +your blouse down. Your hair is all standing on end, Heinrich! How I +wish the Stein-bok had allowed me to bring a pocket-comb!" + +The Court Porter, seated in a bee-hive chair, came forward as soon as +he saw them, to ask their business. + +"The Goat-King is at home to-day till five o'clock," he said. "If you +will step this way, I will introduce you immediately." + +The Goat-mother trembling in every limb--for she had never had a +private interview with Royalty before--clutched a child in each hand +and followed the Porter. + +They passed down two passages, and finally reached a large ice-grotto, +with a row of windows opening on to a wide crevasse. + +The room was filled with a flickering green light that yet rendered +everything distinctly visible. + +On a carved maple chair on the top of a dais sat the Goat-King--a +snow-white Goat with mauve eyes and beard; completely surrounded with +cuckoo clocks, and festoons of yellow wood table-napkin rings, and +paper-cutters. The walls seemed to be covered with them, and the +pendulums of the clocks were swinging in every direction. + +"The King thinks it right to patronize native art," said the +Goat-Queen, who with three of the Princesses had come forward +graciously to welcome the visitors. + +"I find the striking rather trying at times, especially as they don't +all do it at once, and sometimes one cuckoo hasn't finished _ten_ +before the others are at _twelve_ again." + +"I wish all the works would go wrong!" muttered one of the Princesses +crossly. "An ice-cavern full of cuckoo clocks is a poor fate for one +of the Royal Family!" + +"We _must_ encourage industries," said the Queen. "It is a duty of our +position. I should rather the industries were noiseless, but we can't +choose." + +"Bead necklaces and Venetian glass would have been more suitable," +said the Princess, who had been very well educated, "or even +brass-work and embroidered table-cloths. We might have draped the +cavern with _them_." + +At this moment there was a violent whirring amongst the clocks; doors +flew open in all directions, and cuckoos of every size and description +darted out, shook themselves violently, and the air was filled with +such a deafening noise that the Goat-mother threw her apron over her +head, and the Goat-children buried their ears in her skirts, and clung +round her in terror. + +"Merely four o'clock; nothing to make such a fuss about," said the +Goat-King. "And now, when we can hear ourselves speak, you shall tell +me what you have come for." + +As the voice of the last cuckoo died away in a series of jerks, the +Goat-mother advanced, and threw herself on her knees before the Royal +Family, first spreading out her homespun apron to keep the cold off. + +The King listened to her tale with interest, and his mauve eyes +sparkled. + +"If this is true," he cried fiercely, "the Chamois shall be crushed! +My official pen, Princess; and a large sheet of note paper!" + +"Rest yourself, petitioner, you must be tired," said the Queen, and +pointed to a row of carved and inlaid Tyrolese chairs that stood +against the wall. + +The Goat-mother and her children seated themselves gratefully, and as +they did so, a burst of music floated upon the air, several tunes +struggling together for the mastery. + +"Yes; it's very unpleasant, isn't it?" said the Goat-Queen, seeing the +expression of surprise and uneasiness that showed itself on the +visitors' faces. "We're obliged to have all the chairs made like that, +to encourage the trade in musical boxes. I get very tired of it, I +assure you, and I often stand up all day, just for the sake of peace +and quietness. I really _dread_ sitting down!" + +Meanwhile, the Goat-King was busily writing, covering his white paws +with ink in the process; and the Queen, in a very loud voice to make +herself heard, was conversing with the Goat-mother about her household +affairs. + +"Supplies are most difficult to procure in this secluded spot," she +said mournfully. "Would you believe me, that last week we dined +_every_ day off boiled Geneva newspapers and cabbage? So monotonous, +and the King gets quite angry!" + +"I wish we could live on boiled cuckoos!" cried the eldest Princess, +who with her sisters was seated on a bench by the window, spinning; +the pale green light of the Glacier shining upon their white dresses, +and the little brown spinning-wheels that whirred so rapidly before +them. + +"Petitioner, the order is ready," said the King at this moment, waving +a large envelope. "Go straight home, and send this paper round to all +the Goats of the neighbourhood. It is an order to the 'Free-will' +Goats, to arm, and assemble at your house for the defence of your +family, and the rescue of the Heif-father." + +The Goat-mother curtsied to the ground, kissed the Queen's hand, and +retired with Heinrich and Pyto through the passages to the landing +place. + +At the last moment one of the Princesses came running after the +Goat-mother, to press a cuckoo clock upon her, as a parting present +from the Queen. + +The clock was large, and they had some difficulty in getting it into +the boat, but the Goat-mother did not dare to refuse it. + +With the Porter's help they got off at last, and started upon the +return voyage, Heinrich and Pyto rowing their hardest; for the current +swept through the ice-caves with such force that the Goat-mother had +some difficulty in steering. + +As they came out into the daylight, they saw that the sun was almost +setting, and a faint pink light tinged the snow-fields, and the tops +of the distant mountains. + +"We must hurry, or we shan't be back by nightfall!" said the +Goat-mother nervously; and they landed on an ice-block, covered up the +boat again in its hiding place, and set off towards home, across the +Glacier. + + +CHAPTER VI. + +The weary travellers almost sank with fatigue as they stumbled over +the rough ice. + +In addition to the handbag, they now had the cuckoo clock, and though +Heinrich had insisted on carrying it strapped on his back like a +knapsack, his mother could see that he became more and more exhausted, +and at last she determined on taking it from him and carrying it +herself. + +The difficulty was heightened by the fact that the clock continued to +tick, and the cuckoo to bound out of the door at unexpected moments, +startling the Goat-mother so, that she almost dropped it. + +"It's the shaking that puts its works out," said Heinrich. "Hold on +tight, mother, and we shall get it home safely at last!" + +"I wish it was at the bottom of the Glacier!" groaned the +Goat-mother, staggering along; her bonnet nearly falling off, her +shawl trailing on the snow behind her. + +"Be careful, Pyto! Careless Goat!" she cried. "Test the snow-bridges +carefully with your alpenstock before you venture on them!" + +But Pyto, who was young and giddy, went gamboling on; until suddenly, +without even time for a bleat of terror, he fell crashing through the +rotten ice, and disappeared from view into one of the largest +crevasses. + +"Goats-i-tivy!" cried the Goat-mother. "He's gone! Oh, my darling +child, where are you?" + +The cuckoo clock was thrown aside, and she ran to the edge of the +crack and peered down frantically. + +"All right, mother," said a voice, sounding very faint and hollow, +"I've stuck in a hole. Let me down something, and perhaps I can +scramble out again." + +"What have we got to let down?" said the Goat-mother. "Not a ball of +string amongst us! Oh, if ever we go on a journey again, I'll never, +_never_ listen to the Stein-bok." + +"Well, mother, we must make the best of what we have," cried Heinrich. +"Take your shawl off and tear it into strips. We _may_ be able to make +a rope long enough to reach him--anyhow we'll try!" + +The Goat-mother consented eagerly, though her shawl was one she was +particularly fond of. She snatched it off, and taking out her +scissors, she soon cut it into pieces, which Heinrich knotted one to +the other, and lowered into the crevasse. + +"Can you reach it?" he cried, putting his head as far over the edge as +possible, and peering into the green depths. + +The Goat-mother leant over, too; but in stooping her head her bonnet +became loosened, and slid with a loud _swish_ down the ice, darting +from side to side until it disappeared from sight in the darkness. + +"Oh, what misfortunes! My child, my shawl, and my bonnet, _all_ gone +together!" she cried, wringing her hands. "Take hold of the rope, my +Pyto, and let us at all events rescue _you_!" + +"All right, mother," cried the distant voice. "Don't drag me up till I +call out '_Pull_.'" + +In a few minutes the Goat-mother and Heinrich, listening intently, +heard the welcome shout, and pulling both together they landed +Pyto--very much bruised and shaken, but not otherwise hurt--upon the +Glacier beside them. + +"Oh, what a warning!" cried the Goat-mother, and after embracing Pyto +warmly, she turned to look for the cuckoo clock. But it had +tobogganed down a steep bank into an ice stream close by, and was +floating away in the distance, _cuckooing_ at intervals as it danced +up and down upon the water. + +Two travellers who had just reached the opposite bank, paused in +astonishment to listen. + +"You see," said one, "this proves what I have always told you. Nothing +is impossible to Nature. You may even hear cuckoos on a Glacier!" + + +CHAPTER VII. + +The Goat-mother arrived at home in a pitiable state of cold and +exhaustion, but she was much cheered by finding the house in good +order, and a warm supper awaiting her, prepared by the hands of the +careful Stein-bok. + +Lizbet and Lenora immediately started off with the Royal Order; which +was sealed with a large crown of red sealing wax fastening down a wisp +of mauve hair. + +The next morning all the Goats of the neighbourhood collected in a +secret cavern, where they held a patriotic meeting, and discussed +their plans for the rescue and protection of the Heif-father. + +Six of the strongest and most daring spirits were to start that +afternoon for the Inn on the other side of the Glacier, while the rest +of the Free-will corps would take it in turns to remain in ambush in +the Heif-goat's garden, in case the Chamois should attempt their raid +before the day they had appointed. + +They all agreed that the corps should be armed to the teeth, and there +was such a demand for sandpaper that the store in the Stein-bok's pack +was soon exhausted. + +"A rusty sword is all the deadlier, when it once gets in," said the +Goat-Lieutenant. "I shan't trouble myself about petty details." + +The Heif-father rescue party started to cross the Glacier as soon as +it became twilight--for they did not wish to attract attention. + +The Lieutenant carried a blunderbuss, but the five privates were more +lightly armed with a collection of rapiers, carving knives, daggers, +spears, and sword-sticks. + +Their uniforms were varied, but each wore a mauve badge on his hat, +with the motto--"Goats and justice." + +After half-an-hour's steady walking they reached the opposite +mountain, and climbing the ladders that led to the Inn, they skirted +the Chalet carefully, hiding behind the loose rocks and bushes until +they were well in the shadow of the outbuildings. + +"Where are you, Herr Heif?" bleated the Lieutenant in a low tone. "We +are friends. You needn't be alarmed." + +"In here," answered a cautious voice from one of the larger sheds. +"You can't get in, though--there's no hope of breaking the door open. +Iron staples and bars, and the strongest hinges. How many of you are +there?" + +"Six," replied the Lieutenant. "Free-will Goats, armed to the teeth!" + +"You might look at the place and see if you can find a crack +anywhere," whispered the Goat-father. + +The Lieutenant and his followers walked slowly round the house, +examining it at every point; but it was all built of strong tree +trunks tanned brown by the sunshine. Suddenly his eye lighted upon a +small window. It was very high up and quite out of reach of anyone +within, but the Lieutenant thought that by standing on something he +might be able to raise himself sufficiently to reach it, and cut away +the glass. + +"Is there anything inside that _you_ could stand upon?" he enquired. + +There was silence, and a sound of scuffling; then the voice of the +Heif-goat: "I've been examining things, and there are two barrels. I +think I could put one on the top of the other. They _might_ reach to +the window, but it has two great wooden bars, I couldn't break +through." + +"Leave that to us," said the Lieutenant, and he turned to his +followers. + +"Two of you get on each other's shoulders, and then _I_ will be +assisted up. The other three mount in the same way by my side," he +said quickly. "We who are at the top will cut through the window frame +with our knives, collect the glass, and drag out the Goat-father in no +time." + +This plan was carried out, and in spite of the unsteady position of +the topmost Goats, and the uncomfortable shaking of the lower ones, +the wooden bars were at length sawn through, and the glass carefully +gathered together by the Lieutenant in his felt hat. + +"Steady!" cried the Lieutenant, "I'm coming down in a minute, and +you're beginning to shake about so, I can hardly keep my balance. Hi! +Do you hear me? Steady, there!" + +"I can't stand this a moment longer--my legs are giving way beneath +me!" bleated the lower Goat. "I know I shall double up!" + +As he spoke his feet slipped from under him, and he fell full length +upon the hillside, carrying the others with him; and there they all +lay in a confused heap, scarcely able to realize what had happened to +them. + +Fortunately, however, no one was seriously hurt. They picked +themselves up and went to work again with renewed vigour. + +"Climb up now, Herr Heif!" cried the Lieutenant. "Put your head out, +and gradually lower yourself. We'll stand below and catch you." + +"I'm a little afraid, for I know I should fall heavy!" said the +Goat-father, in a quavering voice; but he did as he was told, and +shutting his eyes firmly, he slipped from the window-sill and fell +with a heavy _flop_ into the arms waiting to receive him. + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +The Goat-mother had lit a comfortable fire in the Heif Chalet, and the +Goat-father's slippers were warming against the stove; when a sound of +approaching voices and footsteps made her start up in excited +expectation. + +The voices came nearer and nearer. Now she could distinguish the +National Goat Song, and in another moment the door flew open, and +Herr Heif rushed in accompanied by his rescuers. + +The children screamed, the Goat-mother wept tears of joy; and after a +general rejoicing, the whole party sat down to a comfortable meal, +during which the Lieutenant's health was drunk by the Goat-family +amidst loud cheering. + +"I am sorry we can't invite the whole _corps_," said the Goat-mother. +"It's very cold for them outside, but the fact is I haven't sufficient +crockery. As it is, I am forced to make use of oyster shells and the +flower pot, though it's very much against my principles." + +"Hush!" said the Goat-father, "there's someone knocking!" + +There was indeed a hurried rapping at the door, and one of the +Watch-Goats put in his head to say that the band of Chamois were seen +advancing towards the Chalet. + +The tallow candle was immediately put out, the Lieutenant and his +detachment seized their weapons, and concealed themselves behind the +door, and the Goat-mother and her children were shut up in an inner +room, where they waited in fear and trembling. + +On came the Chamois with noiseless leaps, bounding into the garden, +and approaching the front door with the utmost caution. Everything +appeared to be turning out according to their expectations, and they +already saw themselves in imagination seated in the Heif-house, +revelling in the contents of the Goat-mother's store cupboard. + +Their long green coats fluttered in the air, the large bunches of +edelweiss in their hats, glistened in the moonlight. + +But a low, clear whistle suddenly sounded. + +Each Goat sprang from his hiding place, and with a rush that took the +Chamois completely by surprise, they fell upon the invaders, and drove +them over the precipice. + +It was a real triumph; for the Chamois flew down the mountain in the +wildest confusion, falling down, and darting over each other in their +hurry, and never stopping until they had reached their own haunts in +the region of the distant Eismeer. + +"A glorious victory!" cried the Lieutenant, "and not a drop of blood +shed." + +As to the Goat-mother, she had passed through such a moment of terror +that she had to be assisted out of the back room by three of the +guard, and revived with a cabbage leaf before she could recover +herself. She then embraced everyone all round, and the Goat-father +broached a barrel of lager-beer; while the tame Fox from the Inn (who +had appeared at the Chalet soon after the departure of the rescue +party) ran about supplying the visitors with tumblers. + +The next day the Free-will Goats were disbanded, and returned to their +homes; after receiving in public the thanks of the Goat-King for their +distinguished behaviour, and a carved matchbox each "For valour in +face of the horns of the enemy." + +The Stein-bok Pedlar was begged to make his home at the Heif Chalet, +but he loved his wandering life too much to settle down. + +"Keep the tame Fox instead of me, ma'am," he said, as he shook hands +warmly with his friends at parting. "The poor creature is miserable in +captivity." + +He then made the Goat-mother a handsome present of all his remaining +groceries, and departed once more upon his travels. + +That same afternoon a special messenger from the Goat-King arrived +with an inlaid musical chair, "as a slight token of regard," for the +Heif-father. + +"Well, at all events, it's better than a cuckoo clock," said the +Goat-mother resignedly, "but let me warn you seriously _never to sit +down upon it_! I know its ways, and though kindly meant, I should have +preferred paper-knives!" + + + + +THE GREAT LADY'S CHIEF-MOURNER. + +It was a large white house that stood on a hill. In front stretched a +beautiful garden full of all kinds of rare flowers, on to which opened +the windows of the sitting-rooms. + +Everything was handsome and stately, and the lady who owned it was +handsomer and statelier than her house. + +In her velvet dress she sat under the shade of a sweeping cedar tree; +with a crowd of obsequious relations round her, trying to anticipate +her lightest wishes. + +"How nice it must be to be rich," thought the little kitchen-maid as +she looked out through the trellis work that hid the kitchens at the +side of the great house. "How happy my mistress must be. How much I +should like to try just for one day what it feels like!"--and she went +back with a sigh to her work in the gloomy kitchen. + +Through the latticed window she could see nothing but the paved yard, +and an old tin biscuit box that stood on the window-sill, and +contained two little green shoots sprouting up from the dark mould. + +This little ugly box was the kitchen-maid's greatest treasure. Every +day she watered it and watched over it, for she had brought the seeds +from the tiny garden of her own home, and many sunny memories +clustered about them. She was always looking forward to the day when +the first blossoms would unfold, and now it really seemed that two +buds were forming on the slender stems. The little kitchen-maid smiled +with joy as she noticed them. + +"I shall have flowers, too!" she said to herself hopefully. + +One day, as the mistress of the house walked on the terrace by the +vegetable garden, the little kitchen-maid came past suddenly with a +basket of cabbages. She smiled and curtsied so prettily that the great +lady nodded to her kindly, and threw her a beautiful red rose she +carried in her hand. + +The kitchen-maid could hardly believe her good fortune. She picked up +the flower and ran with it to her bedroom, where she put it in a +cracked jam-pot in water; and the whole room seemed full of its +fragrance--just as the little kitchen-maid's heart was all aglow with +gratitude at the kind act of the great lady. + +Time passed, and the little kitchen-maid's rose withered; but the +slender plants in the tin box expanded into flower, and all the yard +seemed brighter for their white petals. + +One day the mistress of the house fell ill. Doctors went and came, +crowds of relations besieged the house, an air of gloom hung over the +bright garden. + +The little kitchen-maid waited anxiously for news; and tears rolled +down her face as she heard the Church bell tolling for the death of +the great lady. + +A grand funeral started from the white house on the hill. Carriages +containing relations, who tried vainly to twist their faces into an +expression of the grief they were supposed to be feeling. + +Wreaths of the purest hot-house flowers covered the coffin--wreaths +for which the relations had given large sums of money; but not one +woven with sorrowful care by the hand of a real lover. + +The sod was patted down, the dry-eyed mourners departed; and some +square yards of bare earth were all that now belonged to the great +lady. + +When everyone had left, the little kitchen-maid crept from behind some +bushes, where she had been hiding. + +Her face was tear-stained, and she carried in her hand two slender +white flowers. + +They were the plants grown with such loving care in the old tin box on +the window-sill; and she laid them with a sigh amongst the rich +wreaths and crosses. + +"Good-bye, dear mistress! I have nothing else to bring you," she +whispered; and never dreamed that her gift had been the most beautiful +of any--her simple love and tears. + + + + +DAME FOSSIE'S CHINA DOG. + +Granny Pyetangle lived in a little thatched cottage, with a garden +full of sweet-smelling, old-fashioned flowers. It was one of a long +row of other thatched cottages that bordered the village street. At +one end of this was the Inn, with a beautiful sign-board that creaked +and swayed in the wind; at the other, Dame Fossie's shop, in which +brandy-balls, ginger-snaps, balls of string, tops, cheese, tallow +candles, and many other useful and entertaining things were neatly +disposed in a small latticed window. + +All Granny Pyetangle's relations were dead; and she lived quite alone +with her little grandson 'Zekiel, who had been a mingled source of +pride and worry to her, ever since he left off long-clothes and took +to a short-waisted frock with a wide frill round the neck, that +required constant attention in the way of washing and ironing. + +'Zekiel's favourite place to play in was Granny Pyetangle's cottage +doorway. + +A board had been put up to prevent him rolling out on to the +cobblestone pavement; and this board though very irritating to +'Zekiel in many ways--as preventing him from straying down the road +and otherwise enjoying himself--was yet not to be despised, as he soon +discovered, when he was learning to walk. + +It was one of the few things he could grasp firmly, without its +immediately sliding away, doubling up, turning head over heels, or +otherwise throwing him violently down on the brick floor of the +kitchen--before he knew what had happened to him! + +Granny Pyetangle frequently went to have a chat with Dame Fossie, her +large sun-bonnet shading her wrinkled old face, a handkerchief crossed +neatly over her print bodice. On these occasions 'Zekiel accompanied +his grandmother, hanging on to her skirts affectionately with one +hand, whilst he waved a crust of brown bread in the other--a crust +which he generally carried concealed about his person, for the +two-fold purpose of assisting through his teeth and amusing himself at +every convenient opportunity. + +Whilst Granny Pyetangle discussed the affairs of the neighbours, +'Zekiel would sit on the floor by her side contentedly sucking his +crust, and looking with awe upon the contents of the shop. Such a +collection of good things seemed a perfect fairy-tale to him, and he +would often settle in his own mind what he would have when he grew up +and had pence to rattle about in his trousers' pocket, like Eli and +Hercules Colfox. + +Like most children in short petticoats, who--contrary to the +generally-received idea--are constantly meditating on every subject +that comes under their notice; 'Zekiel had his own ideas about Granny +Pyetangle and her friend Dame Fossie. + +His grandmother ought to have spent more of her money on +peppermint-cushions, tin trumpets, and whip-tops, and less on those +uninteresting household stores; and Dame Fossie should have remembered +that crusts are poor work when brandy-snaps and gingerbread are spread +before you, and ought more frequently to have bestowed a biscuit on +the round-eyed 'Zekiel, as he played with the cat, or poked pieces of +stick between the cracks of the floor when Granny Pyetangle wasn't +looking. + +Though 'Zekiel had no brothers and sisters, he had a great many +friends, the chief of which were Eli and Hercules Colfox, his next +door neighbours, who were very kind and condescending to him in spite +of the dignity of their corduroy trousers. + +'Zekiel had a way of ingratiating himself with everyone, and of +getting what he wanted, that inspired the slower-witted Eli and +Hercules with awe and admiration; until one day he took it into his +head to long for Dame Fossie's celebrated black and white spotted +china dog! + +All the village knew this dog, for it had stood for years on a shelf +above the collection of treasures in the shop window. It was not an +ordinary china dog such as you can see in any china shop now-a-days, +but one of the old-fashioned kind, on which the designer had (like +the early masters) expended all his art upon the dignity of expression +without harassing himself with petty details. + +Proudly Dame Fossie's dog looked down upon the world, sitting erect, +with his golden padlock and chain glittering in any stray gleams of +sunshine; his white coat evenly spotted with black, his long drooping +ears, neat row of carefully-painted black curls across the forehead, +and that proud smile which, though the whole village had been smitten +down before him, would still have remained unchangeable. + +It was this wonderful superiority of expression that had first +attracted 'Zekiel as he played about on the floor of Dame Fossie's +parlour. + +The china dog never looked at him with friendly good-fellowship, like +the other dogs of the village. It never wanted to share his crusts, or +upset him by running up against his legs just as he thought he had +mastered the difficulties of "walking like Granny!" + +It was altogether a strangely attractive animal, and 'Zekiel, from the +time he could first indistinctly put a name to anything, had +christened it the "Fozzy-gog" out of compliment to its owner, Dame +Fossie--and the "Fozzy-gog" it remained to him, and to the other +children of the village, for ever after. + +When 'Zekiel was nearly six years of age Granny Pyetangle called him +up to her, and asked what he would like for his birthday present. + +'Zekiel sat down on a wooden stool in the chimney corner, where the +iron pot hung, and meditated deeply. + +"Eli and Hercules to tea, and a Fozzy-gog to play with," he said at +last--and Granny Pyetangle smiled and said she would see what she +could do--"'Zekiel was a good lad, and deserved a treat." + +'Zekiel's birthday arrived, and the moment he opened his eyes he saw +that his grandmother had redeemed her promise. + +On a rush chair beside his pillow stood the very double of the +Fozzy-gog!--yellow eyes, gold collar and padlock, black spots, and all +complete! + +'Zekiel sprang up, and scrambled into his clothes as quickly as +possible. He danced round Granny Pyetangle in an ecstasy of delight, +and scarcely eat any breakfast, he was in such a hurry to show his +treasure to his two friends. + +As he handed it over the low hedge that separated the two gardens he +felt a proud boy, but Eli did not appear so enthusiastic as 'Zekiel +expected. He said that "chaney dogs was more for Grannies nor for +lads," and that if he had been in 'Zekiel's place he would have chosen +a fine peg-top. + +Poor 'Zekiel was disappointed. The tears gathered in his eyes. He hugged +the despised china dog fondly to him, and carried it indoors to put in a +place of honour in Granny Pyetangle's oak corner-cupboard--where it +looked out proudly from behind the glass doors, in company with the best +tea-cups, a shepherdess tending a woolly lamb, two greyhounds on +stony-white cushions, and Grandfather Pyetangle's horn snuff-box. + +Time passed on, and 'Zekiel's petticoats gave place to corduroy +breeches, but his devotion to the china dog never waned. He would talk +to it, and tell it all his plans and fancies, and several times he +almost persuaded himself that it wagged its tail and nodded to him. In +fact, he was quite sure that when Granny Pyetangle was ill that +winter, the china dog was conscious of the fact, and looked at him +with its yellow eyes full of compassion and sympathy. + +Poor Granny Pyetangle was certainly very ill. She had suffered from +rheumatism for many years, and was sometimes almost bent double with +it; but that autumn it came on with increased violence, and 'Zekiel, +who nursed his old grandmother devotedly, had to sit by the bed-side +for hours giving her medicine, or the food a neighbour prepared for +her, just as she required it. + +Granny Pyetangle was sometimes rather cross in those days, and would +scold poor 'Zekiel for "clumping in his boots" and "worritting"--but +'Zekiel was very patient. + +"Sick people _is_ wearing at times," said Dame Fossie. "Come you down +to me sometimes, 'Zekiel, and I'll let you play with my chaney dog. It +isn't fit as young lads should be cooped up always!"--and when Granny +Pyetangle had a neighbour with her, 'Zekiel gladly obeyed. + +One evening he ran down the village street with a smile on his face, +and a new penny in his pocket. Squire Hancock had given it to him for +holding his horse, and he was going to spend it at Dame Fossie's on a +cake for his grandmother. + +Twilight was falling, yet Dame Fossie's shop was not lighted up; which +was strange, as a little oil lamp generally burned in the window as +soon as it grew dusk. + +The shop door was shut and locked, and 'Zekiel ran round to the back, +and climbing on the edge of the rain-water butt, he peered over the +white dimity blind, into the silent kitchen. + +No one was there, and yet Dame Fossie must be somewhere in the house, +for he distinctly heard sounds of thumping and scraping going on +upstairs. + +"I'll get in through the window, and surprise her!" said 'Zekiel; and +as one of the latticed panes was unfastened he proceeded to push it +gently open, and creep in on to the table that stood just beneath it. + +He unlatched the kitchen door, and stole up the ricketty staircase. + +The sounds continued, but more loudly. Evidently there was a +house-cleaning going on, and 'Zekiel supposed this was why Dame Fossie +had been deaf to his repeated knockings. He lifted the latch of the +room from which the noise proceeded, and peeping cautiously in, beheld +such a strange sight that he remained rooted to the ground with +astonishment. + +Dame Fossie's furniture was piled up in one corner--the oak bureau, +and the rush-bottomed chairs, inside the four-post bedstead. A pail +of water stood in the middle of the floor; and close by was the +Fozzy-gog himself, with a mop between his paws, working away with the +greatest energy. + +He was about four times his ordinary size, as upright as 'Zekiel +himself, and was directing the work of several other china dogs; +amongst whom 'Zekiel immediately recognized his own property, Granny +Pyetangle's birthday present! + +Everyone seemed to be too busy to notice 'Zekiel as he stood half in +the doorway. Two of the dogs were scouring the floor with a pair of +Dame Fossie's best scrubbing brushes, another was dusting the ceiling +with a feather broom; whilst several, seated round the four-post +bedstead, were polishing it with bees' wax and "elbow-grease." They +all listened to the Fozzy-gog with respectful attention, as he issued +his directions; for he was evidently a person in authority. + +It did not occur to 'Zekiel to be surprised that all the dogs were +chatting together in very comprehensible Dorsetshire English. To see +them actually living, and moving about, was such an extraordinary +thing that it swallowed up every other feeling, even that of fear. + +"Make haste, my good dogs! Put the furniture straight, and have all +ready. Dame Fossie will be returning soon, and we must be back on our +shelves before her key turns," said the Fozzy-gog cheerfully. + +The dogs all worked with renewed energy, and before 'Zekiel could +collect his scattered wits enough to retreat or hide himself, the +room was in perfect order, and out trooped the china dogs carrying the +buckets, brooms, and brushes, they had been using. + +As they caught sight of 'Zekiel, the Fozzy-gog jumped several feet +into the air. + +"What! 'Zekiel spying upon us!" he screamed angrily. "Bring the lad +into the kitchen. We must examine into this," and he clattered down +the steep stairs with his mop into the wash-house. + +Poor 'Zekiel followed trembling. His own dog had crept up to him, and +slipped one paw into his hand, whispering hurriedly, "Don't be +downhearted, 'Zekiel. Never contradict him, and he will forgive you in +a year or two!" + +"A year or two!" thought 'Zekiel wretchedly. "And never contradict +him, indeed! when he says I was spying on him. A likely thing!" and he +clung to his friend, and dragged him in with him into the kitchen. + +The Fozzy-gog sat in Dame Fossie's high-backed chair in the chimney +corner, the other china dogs grouped around him. It reminded 'Zekiel +of the stories of Kings and their Courts, and no doubt the Fozzy-gog +_was_ a king--in his own opinion at least. + +He questioned 'Zekiel minutely as to how he happened to come there so +late in the evening; and to all the questions 'Zekiel answered most +truthfully. + +The frown on the Fozzy-gog's face relaxed more and more--an amiable +smile began to curl the corners of his mouth, and he extended his paw +in a dignified manner towards 'Zekiel, who felt like a prisoner +reprieved. + +"We forgive you, 'Zekiel! You have always been a good friend to us, +and your own dog speaks well of you," said the Fozzy-gog benignly. +"You must give us your word you will never mention what you have seen. +In the future we must be china dogs to you, and _nothing more_; but in +return for this you may ask one thing of us, and, if possible, we will +grant it." + +'Zekiel hesitated. Wild possibilities of delight in the shape of +ponies and carts flitted rapidly through his mind, and then the +remembrance of Granny Pyetangle, lying ill and suffering on her bed in +the little sloping attic, drove everything else from his mind. + +"I want my poor old Granny to be well again," he said, looking the +Fozzy-gog bravely in the face--"and I don't want naught else. If +you'll do that, I'll promise anything--that's to say, anything in +reason," added 'Zekiel, who prided himself on this diplomatic finish +to his sentence--which was one he had frequently heard his grandmother +make use of in moments of state and ceremony. + +The Fozzy-gog appeared to be favourably impressed by 'Zekiel's +request. He rose from his chair, and waved his paw graciously. + +"We dismiss this gathering!" he cried. "And you, Pyetangle"--pointing +to 'Zekiel's china dog--"take your master home, and bring him to our +meeting at the cross-roads to-morrow at midnight. Do not fail. +Farewell!" + +As he spoke the Fozzy-gog shrank and stiffened. His black curls +acquired their usual glaze, and he had just time to jump upon the +shelf above the shop window, before he froze into his immovable china +self again. + +The other dogs disappeared through the open kitchen casement; and +'Zekiel found himself in the village street without in the least +knowing how he got there! + +It was almost dark as he ran home, but as he swung open the garden +gate, he fancied he saw something white standing exactly in the centre +of the pathway. He was sure he heard a faint barking, and a voice +whispered--"Wait a minute, 'Zekiel, I want to talk to you." 'Zekiel +retreated a step, and sat down gasping on a flower bed. + +"I want to talk to you," repeated the little voice. + +'Zekiel craned forward, though he was trembling with fright, and saw +in the fast gathering shadows his own china dog, standing beside +Granny Pyetangle's favourite lavender bush--though how it managed to +get there so quickly he could not imagine! He stretched out his hand +to stroke it, and started up, as instead of the cold china, he felt +the soft curls of a fluffy fur coat. + +"Tell me what it all means! Oh, do'ee, now!" said 'Zekiel, almost +crying. + +The china dog sat down by 'Zekiel's side, and putting one paw +affectionately on his knee, looked up in his face, with his honest +yellow eyes. + +"The Fozzy-gog has commissioned me to explain all about it," he said +confidentially. "So don't be frightened, and no harm will come of it! +Twice every month (if we can escape unobserved) we take the form of +ordinary dogs, and meet together to amuse ourselves, or to work for +our owners. There are many of us in the village, and as the Fozzy-gog +is our ruler, we are bound to obey him, and to work more for old Dame +Fossie than for anybody else. Yesterday we knew she was going to visit +her married daughter. We determined to have a thorough house-cleaning, +and were just in the midst of it when you came in! It was a good thing +the Fozzy-gog happened to be in a good temper, and knew you well! We +have never before been discovered. He is a hasty temper, and it +certainly _was_ irritating!" + +'Zekiel began to recover from his terror, and grasped the china dog by +the paw. He felt proud to think that his ideas about china dogs had +proved true. They were not merely "chaney"--as Eli and Hercules +contemptuously expressed it; but were really as much alive as he was +himself, after all! + +"However did you manage to get out of Granny Pyetangle's cupboard?" +enquired 'Zekiel, curiously. + +"Oh, I put those lazy greyhounds and the shepherdess at it," replied +the china dog. "They worked all night, and managed to undo the latch +early this afternoon. They're bound to work for me like all the +inferior china things," and he shook his head superciliously. + +"And now," said 'Zekiel, "please tell me how the Fozzy-gog is going to +get my Granny well." + +"Ah, that I mayn't tell you," said the china dog. "You must come with +me to-morrow night to the Dog-wood, and you will hear all about it." + +As he spoke, he began to shrink and stiffen in the same remarkable way +as the Fozzy-gog, and a moment after he was standing in his ordinary +shape in the centre of the cobblestone pathway. + +The moonlight shone upon his quaint little figure and the golden +padlock at his neck. 'Zekiel sprang up just as the cottage door +opened, and a neighbour came out calling, "'Zekiel! 'Zekiel! Drat the +lad! Where be you gone to?" + +'Zekiel tucked the china dog under his arm and hurried in, receiving a +good scolding from Granny Pyetangle and her friend for "loitering," +but he felt so light-hearted and cheerful, the hard words fell round +him quite harmlessly. + +"Granny 'll be well to-morrow! Granny 'll be well to-morrow!" he kept +repeating to himself over and over again, and he ran into the kitchen +just before going to bed to make sure the things in the corner +cupboard were safely shut away for the night. + +'Zekiel hardly knew how he got through the next day, so impatient was +he for the evening. Granny Pyetangle was certainly worse. The +neighbours came in and shook their heads sadly over her, and Dame +Fossie hobbled up from her shop and offered to spend the night there, +as it was "no' fit for young lads to have such responsibilities"--and +this offer 'Zekiel eagerly accepted. + +As soon as it grew dusk, he unlatched the door of the oak cupboard; +and then being very tired--for he had worked hard since daylight--he +sat down in Granny Pyetangle's large chair, and in a minute was fast +asleep. + +He was awakened by a series of pulls at his smock-frock; and starting +up he saw that it was quite dark, except for the glow of a few ashes +on the hearth-stone, and that the china dog, grown to the same size as +he had been the evening before, was trying to arouse him. + +"Wake up, 'Zekiel!" he said in a low voice. "Dame Fossie is upstairs +with your Granny, and we must be off." + +'Zekiel rubbed his eyes, and taking his cap down from a peg, and tying +a check comforter round his neck, he followed the china dog from the +kitchen, and closed and latched the door behind him. + +Out in the moonlit street, the china dog kept as much as possible in +the shadow of the houses; 'Zekiel following, his hob-nailed boots +_click_, _clicking_ against the rough stones as he stumbled sleepily +along. + +They soon left the village behind them, and plunged into a wood, +which, stretching for miles across hill and dale, was known to be a +favourite haunt of smugglers. + +'Zekiel instantly became very wide awake indeed, and unpleasant cold +shivers ran down his back, as he thought he saw black and white forms +gliding amongst the trees, and yellow eyes glancing at him between +the bare branches. + +"It isn't smugglers. It's the dogs galloping to the meeting place," +said the china dog, who seemed able to read 'Zekiel's thoughts in a +very unnatural manner. + +They soon left the rough pathway they had been following, and 'Zekiel, +clinging to the china dog's paw, found himself in the densest part of +the wood, which was only dimly lighted by a few scattered moonbeams. + +"We are getting near the Dog-wood now," said the china dog as they +hurried on, and in another moment they came out on to the middle of a +clearing, round which a dense thicket of red-stemmed dog-wood bushes +grew in the greatest luxuriance. + +In the centre was a large square stone, like a stand; on which sat the +Fozzy-gog, surrounded by about fifty china dogs of all shapes and +sizes, but each one with a gold padlock and chain round his neck, +without which none were admitted to the secret society of the +"Fozzy-gogs." + +'Zekiel was drawn reluctantly into the magic circle, while every dog +wagged his tail as a sign of friendly greeting. + +The Fozzy-gog nodded graciously, and immediately the dogs commenced a +wild dance, with many leaps and bounds; round the stone on which their +ruler was seated. + +The moonlight shone brightly on their glancing white coats; and behind +rustled the great oak trees, their boughs twisted into fantastic +forms, amidst which the wind whistled eerily. + +'Zekiel shuddered as he looked at the strange scene, and longed +sincerely to be back again in his little bed at Granny Pyetangle's. + +"However, it won't do to show I'm afraid, or don't like it," he said +to himself, so he capered and hopped with the others until he was +quite giddy and exhausted, and forced to sit down on a grassy bank to +recover himself. + +"The trees are playing very well to-night," said a dog as he skipped +by. "Come and have another dance?" and he flew round and round like a +humming top. + +'Zekiel shook his head several times. He was so out of breath he could +only gasp hurriedly--"No, no! No more, thank you!" but his friend had +already disappeared. + +The Fozzy-gog now approached him. He carried something in his paw, +which he placed in 'Zekiel's hand. + +"Put this on Grandmother Pyetangle's forehead when you return +to-night--promise that you will keep silence for ever about what you +have seen--and to-morrow she will be well!" + +"I promise," said 'Zekiel. "Oh, Fozzy-gog! I'll never forget it!" + +"No thanks," said the Fozzy-gog. "I like deeds more than words. +Pyetangle shall take you home." + +He beckoned to 'Zekiel's dog, who came up rather sulkily--and 'Zekiel +found himself outside the magic circle, and well on his way home, +almost before he could realize that they had started! + +As he entered Granny Pyetangle's little garden, he saw that a light +was still burning in her attic. + +He went softly into the kitchen. It was quite dark, but a ray of +moonlight enabled him to see the china dog open the cupboard; and, +rapidly shrinking, place himself on his proper shelf again. + +'Zekiel then took off his boots, ran up the creaking stairs, and +tapped softly at Granny Pyetangle's bedroom. No one answered, so he +pushed open the door. + +Dame Fossie sat sleeping peacefully in a large rush-bottomed chair by +the fireplace--and Granny Pyetangle, on her bed under the chintz +curtains, was sleeping too. + +'Zekiel laid the Fozzy-gog's leaf carefully on her forehead, and +creeping from the room, threw himself on his own little bed, and was +soon as fast asleep as the two old women. + +The next morning, when Granny Pyetangle awoke, she said she felt +considerably better, and so energetic was she that Dame Fossie had +great difficulty in persuading her not to get up. + +Dame Fossie tidied up the place, and was much annoyed to find a dead +leaf sticking to Granny Pyetangle's scanty grey hair. "How a rubbishy +leaf o' dog-wood came to get there, is more nor _I_ can account for," +she said crossly, as she swept it away into the fire, before 'Zekiel +could interfere to rescue it. + +Granny Pyetangle's recovery was wonderfully rapid. Every day she was +able to do a little more, and 'Zekiel's triumph was complete when he +was allowed to help her down the stairs into the kitchen, and seat her +quavering, but happy, on the great chair in the chimney corner. + +"Well, it do seem pleasant to be about agin," said Granny Pyetangle, +smoothing her white linen apron. "No'but you have kept the place +clean, 'Zekiel, like a good lad. There's those things in corner +cupboard as bright as chaney can be! and that chaney dog o' yours +sitting as life-like as you please! It wouldn't want much fancy to say +he was wagging his tail and looking at me quite welcoming!" + +The wood fire blazed and crackled, the kettle sang on its chain in the +wide chimney. Granny Pyetangle was almost well, and quite happy; and +'Zekiel felt his heart overflowing with gratitude towards the +Fozzy-gog. + +"I'll never forget him. Never!" said 'Zekiel to himself, "and I +wouldn't tell upon him not if anyone was to worrit me ever so!"--and +indeed he never did. + +Years passed, and Dame Fossie's shop was shut, and Dame Fossie herself +was laid to rest. Her daughter inherited most of her possessions; +but--"to my young friend 'Zekiel Pyetangle, I will and bequeath my +china dog, hoping as he'll be a kind friend to it," stood at the end +of the sheet of paper which did duty as her will. And so 'Zekiel +became the owner of the Fozzy-gog after all! + +Granny Pyetangle has long since passed away, but the little thatched +cottage is still there, with the garden full of lavender bushes and +sweet-smelling flowers. From the glass door of the corner cupboard +the Fozzy-gog and his companion look out upon the world with the same +inscrutable expression; and 'Zekiel himself, old and decrepit, but +still cheerful, may at this moment be sitting in the cottage porch, +watching his little grandchildren play about the cobblestone pathway, +or talking over old times with Eli and Hercules Colfox, who, hobbling +in for a chat, take a pull at their long pipes, and bemoan the +inferiority of everything that does not belong to the time when "us +were all lads together." + + + + +PRINCESS SIDIGUNDA'S GOLDEN SHOES. + +Princess Sidigunda lived with her parents in a beautiful old castle by +the sea. It was so near that the royal gardens sloped down gradually +to the shore, and from its battlements--where the little Princess was +allowed to walk sometimes on half-holidays--she could watch the ships +with their gaily-painted prows and golden dragons' heads, sweeping +over the water in quest of new lands and fresh adventures. + +Princess Sidigunda was an only child, and at her christening every +gift you can imagine had been showered upon her. + +The Trolls of the Woods gave her beauty; the Trolls of the Water, a +free, bright spirit; the Mountain-Trolls, good health; and last, but +not least, her chief Godfather, the Troll of the Seashore, had given +her a beautiful little pair of golden slippers. + +"Never let the child take them off her feet," said the old Troll. "As +long as she keeps them she will be happy. If ever they are lost the +Princess's troubles will begin." + +"But they will grow too small for her!" said the Queen anxiously. + +"Oh no, they won't!" said the old Troll. "They will grow as she grows, +so you needn't trouble about that." + +[Illustration] + +Time went on, and the little Princess grew to be ten years old. + +The old Troll's promise was fulfilled, and her life had been a +perfectly happy one. Watched by her faithful nurse, she had never had +any opportunity of losing her magic shoes; and though she often +bathed and played about the shore with her young companions, she was +never allowed to be without one of her attendants, in case she should +forget her Godfather's caution. + +One fine summer afternoon, the Princess, with some of her friends, ran +down to the sands from the little gate in the castle wall. + +The sea looked green and beautiful, light waves curling over on the +narrow strip of yellow shore. + +"Let's wade!" cried the Princess. "My nurse is ill in bed, and my two +ladies think we are playing in the garden. We'll have a little treat +of being alone, and enjoy ourselves!" + +"We must take our slippers off," said one of the children, as they +raced along. + +"Oh, I wish _I_ could!" cried the Princess. "I don't believe _once_ +would matter. I'll put them in a safe place where the sea can't get at +them," and as she spoke she pulled off her golden shoes, and hid them +in a great hurry behind a sand-bank. + +The Princess's little friends ran off laughing; while she followed, +her hair streaming, her bare feet twinkling in the sunlight. + +"How nice it is to be free, without those tiresome shoes!" cried the +Princess. + +The children paddled in the water until they were tired, and then +Sidigunda thought it was time to put on her slippers again. She ran to +the bank, but gave a cry of astonishment--she could only find one of +her golden shoes! Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked about her +wildly. + +"Oh what shall I do?" she cried. "My shoe! My Godfather's shoe!" + +The children gathered round her eagerly. + +"It must be there. Who can have taken it?" + +They searched the low sand dunes up and down, but not a trace of the +lost slipper could be found. It was gone as entirely as if it had +never existed; and as the Princess drew on the remaining one, the +tears rolled down her face, and fell upon the sand-hill by which she +was sitting. + +"Oh, Godfather! dear Godfather! come and help me!" she wailed. "Do +come and help me!" + +At her cry, the sand-hill began to quiver and shake strangely. It +heaved up, and an old man's head, with a long grey beard, appeared in +the middle; followed slowly by a little brown-coated body. + +"What is the matter, God-daughter? Your tears trickled down to me and +woke me up, just as I was comfortably sleeping," he said querulously. +"They're saltier than the sea, and I can't stand them." + +"My shoe's gone! Oh! whatever am I to do? I'm _so_ sorry, Godfather!" + +"So you ought to be!" said the old man sharply. "I told you something +bad would happen if you ever took them off. The question is now, +Where's the shoe gone to?" + +He leant his elbows on the mound, and looked out to sea. + +"Just what I thought!" he exclaimed. "The Sea-children have taken it +for a boat. I _must_ speak to the Sea-grandmother about them, and get +her to keep them in better order." + +"Oh, it's gone then, and I shall never get it back again!" wept the +Princess. "What am I to do, Godfather?" + +[Illustration] + +"Have you courage enough to go and find your shoe by yourself?" + +"If that's the only way to get it back," said the Princess bravely. + +"Well, then, you must start immediately, or the Sea-children will +have hidden it away somewhere. You will be obliged to have a passport, +but I'll tell you how to get that. Take this veil"--and he drew a +thin, transparent piece of silvery gauze from his pocket--"and throw +it over your head whenever you go under the water. With it you will be +able to breathe and see, as well as if you were on dry land. From this +flask"--and he handed Sidigunda a curious little gold bottle--"you +must pour a few drops on to your remaining shoe, and whenever you do +so it will change in a moment into a boat, a horse, or a fish, as you +desire it." + +"How am I to start, and where am I to go to?" asked the Princess, +trying not to feel frightened at the prospect before her. + +"Launch your shoe as a boat, and float on till you meet the Sea-Troll, +who is an old friend of mine. Explain your errand to him, and say I +begged him to direct you and give you a passport. And now one last +word before I leave you. Never, _whatever_ happens, cry again; for +there is nothing worries me so much, and I want to finish my sleep +comfortably." + +With these words the old Troll collected his long grey beard which had +strayed over the sand-hill; and folding it round him, he disappeared +in the hole again. + +Princess Sidigunda did not give herself time to think. She ran down to +the edge of the water, took off her golden shoe, and poured some of +the contents of her Godfather's flask over it. + +It changed immediately into a boat, into which the Princess stepped +tremblingly; and it floated away over the blue water until the little +Princess, straining her eyes eagerly, lost sight of her home, and the +land faded away into a mere streak upon the horizon. + +"I wonder when I shall meet the Sea-Troll and what he's like," thought +Princess Sidigunda. "I suppose I shall be able to recognize him +somehow." + +As she thought this, she noticed that some object was rapidly floating +towards her. It did not look like a boat, and as it came nearer and +nearer, she could see that it was a large shell, on which an old man +with a long beard was seated cross-legged, surrounded by a crowd of +laughing Sea-children. They clung to the sides of the shell, swum +round it, or climbed up to rest themselves on its crinkled edges. + +"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" cried the old man in a +gruff voice. + +The Princess trembled; but she seized her veil and the little flask, +and holding them out she repeated her Godfather's message. + +"I'll see what I can do, though really these children wear me out!" +said the Sea-Troll. "I can't keep my eye on all of them at once! You +had better go down to the Sea-city, and ask if they've carried your +shoe there. If not, the Troll-writers will tell you where it is. Show +this to the city guard, and they will direct you to the Palace." He +gave the Princess a flat shell on which some letters were engraved. +"Sink down at once," he continued; "you are over the city now," and +with a wave of his hand he sailed away with the children, and was soon +out of sight. + +"I suppose there's nothing else to be done," sighed Sidigunda, and +throwing the scarf over her head, she poured a few drops from the +bottle upon her shoe. + +"Turn into a fish and carry me down to the Sea-city!" she said. + +In a moment she felt herself sinking through the clear water, deeper +and deeper, with a delicious drowsy feeling that almost soothed her to +sleep. She knew she was _not_ asleep though, for she could see the +misty forms of sea creatures, darting about in the dim shadows, and +great waving sea-weeds--crimson, yellow, and brown--floating up from +the rippled sand beneath. + +And now the shoe swum straight on, darting through the water like an +eel; until a large town came in sight, with high walls and Palaces, +and shining domes covered with mother-o'-pearl. + +They stopped at a great gate, before which a fish dressed as a sentry +was standing. + +As soon as he saw the little Princess, he drew his sword, and came +gliding towards her. + +"Your name and business!" he enquired, in a high thin voice. + +"I am Princess Sidigunda, seeking my golden shoe, and I bring this +from the Sea-Troll," said the Princess courageously. "Will you tell +me where I am to find the Trolls of the Palace?" + +The fish handed the shell back sulkily, and pointed up the street. + +"Go straight through till you come to the marble building with the +pearls over the door," he said; and gave the Princess a poke with the +handle of his sword, that pushed her through the gate, almost before +she had time to draw on her golden shoe again. + +"What a rude, ill-bred sentry!" said Sidigunda. "My father would be +very angry if any of _our_ soldiers behaved so; but then, of course, +this one is only a fish. What a strange country I seem to have got +into!" + +She walked along the street, looking on each side of her curiously. + +Many of the houses had transparent domes, like beautiful soap bubbles; +some were built of coloured pebbles, and pink and red coral, with +branching trees of green and brown seaweed growing up, beside and over +them. + +Everything was strange, and unlike the earth; but what struck the +Princess most was that no inhabitants were to be seen anywhere. A few +fish swam about lazily, otherwise an unbroken silence reigned in the +Sea-city. + +Far away, at the end of the wide sanded road, a great marble palace +towered over the surrounding houses; and as the Princess neared it she +saw that the doors were wide open. She walked in fearlessly, and found +herself in a large hall, with walls entirely covered with +cockle-shells. Long stone tables filled the middle of the room; at +which a crowd of small brown-coated men were seated, scribbling away +with long pens, but in total silence. + +The great grey beards of some of the writers had touched the ground, +and even twisted themselves round the legs of the benches on which the +old men were sitting. + +Princess Sidigunda stood for a minute looking on, curiously. She then +went up to one of the Trolls and pulled him gently by the sleeve. + +He did not look up, but his pen slightly slackened its speed. + +"What do you want?" he enquired in an uninterested voice. "Make haste, +for I have no time to spare!" + +"What rude people they all are!" thought the Princess. "The Sea-Troll +said you would tell me how to find my golden shoe," she continued +aloud. + +"I wish the Sea-Troll would mind his own business!" said the little +brown man vindictively. "He's always distracting us from our State +business with all sorts of messages." + +"Are you working for the State?" enquired Sidigunda. + +"Of course! I thought every oyster knew that," replied the brown +Troll. + +"Are they particularly uneducated, then?" asked the Princess. + +"Why they're _babies_!" said the brown Troll. "You can see them any +day in their beds by the side of the road, if you have eyes in your +head." + +"What a place to keep babies in!" thought the Princess, but she said +nothing, for she saw that the old Troll's disposition was very +irritable. + +"Would you tell me one thing," she began. "I do so much want to know +why I saw no one in the streets as I came along. Where have all the +people gone to?" + +"Well, of _all_ the idi----" commenced the brown Troll, then checked +himself with an effort. "Of course you can't know how foolish your +questions sound," he said. "When you're two or three hundred years old +I daresay you'll be more sensible. Why all the people are asleep--you +don't suppose it's the same as in _your_ country!" + +"Do they sleep all the time?" asked the Princess. + +"Not all the time, of course. In this town it's two weeks at a +stretch. In other places more, or less. By this arrangement we always +have half the population asleep, and half awake--much pleasanter and +less crowding. I can't think why it's not done in other places!" + +Princess Sidigunda looked surprised. + +"Will the children who took my shoe be asleep?" she enquired +anxiously. + +"Not they!" said the brown Troll crossly, "I wish they would be! +Children under twelve _never_ sleep. It's like having a crowd of live +eels always round me! I'd put them to sleep when they were a month +old, and not let them wake till they came of age, if I had _my_ way!" + +The Princess felt rather frightened of this savage little brown man. +She was afraid to ask any more questions, though she longed to know +why he and his companions were not asleep too. + +"Go straight down the street," commenced the old Troll abruptly, "out +of the green gate, along the road to the open country. Turn your shoe +into a horse, and don't stop till you reach the Crab-boy's hut. He +will direct you." + +"That sounds simple enough," thought the Princess, "but I wish he +would tell me a little more!" + +The brown Troll, however, refused to open his mouth again, and +Princess Sidigunda was obliged to start off upon her wanderings, with +no more guide than the few words he had chosen to speak to her. + +She ran down the silent street, and out at the green gate; the +Fish-sentry allowing her to pass without objection. As soon as she +reached the country road, she walked more slowly. She particularly +wanted to see the beds with the Sea-babies, which the old Troll had +spoken about. + +For some distance she noticed nothing except wide sandy plains dotted +with rocks, shells, and waving forests of giant seaweed--huge fish +darting about in all directions--but at last the scenery grew wilder; +and close to the road side she came upon a grove of oysters, each +half-open shell containing a Sea-child, whose head and arms appeared +above the edges of the shell, while its feet and body were invisible. + +Beside them sat an old woman, grey and wrinkled; with a small switch +in her hand, with which she occasionally touched the Sea-babies as +they leaned too far from their shells, or as their laughter rose too +noisily. + +The little Princess stopped and looked at the children curiously; and +the old woman stepped forward and made a polite curtsey. + +"They are rather noisy to-day," she said deprecatingly. "The +oyster-nurses have gone out for a holiday, and I have to keep the +whole bed in order!" + +"I should like to wait and play with them," said the Princess, "but I +really am in such a hurry--I've lost my golden shoe." + +"Oh, you're going to the Crab-boy, I suppose?" said the old woman. +"Down the road as straight as you can go, and you'll come to his hut," +and she turned away to the children again. + +Sidigunda took off her slipper, and poured out some drops from her +magic bottle. + +Immediately it grew larger and larger; and she had just time to spring +in, before it galloped away with a series of bounds that made it very +difficult to cling on. + +Faster and faster it went, until the country seemed only a flying +haze; and just as the Princess began to feel she could endure no more, +it stopped abruptly before a small hut. + +Outside the door a boy sat on a stone seat, playing on a long horn +whose notes echoed among the rocky hills that surrounded him. + +Princess Sidigunda looked at the boy with a friendly smile. He stopped +playing, and made room for her to sit down beside him. + +"I knew you were coming," he said. "You want to go to the +Sea-grandmother, don't you?" + +"Yes, I do!" said the Princess. "Do you live here all alone?" + +"Why, of course," replied the Crab-herd, "I look after all the crabs +of the district. You may see me collect them if you like, for if I'm +to go with you now, I must shut them up safely before starting." + +As he said this, he rose, and blowing a few notes on his horn, he +walked slowly along, followed by the Princess. + +As the horn sounded, crabs of every size and colour came darting out +from the stones, and scuttled across the sand towards the Crab-boy. +There were red and green, yellow and brown, large and small--a +procession growing larger and larger, until it reached an enclosed +space, into which the boy guided it, and then shut the gate securely. + +The Princess had dropped down to rest upon a conch-shell, in the shade +of some purple seaweed, and she looked up at the Crab-herd with her +large blue eyes, while he counted his crabs, and chased in one or two +of the stragglers. + +"Is the Sea-grandmother's house far off?" she asked thoughtfully. + +"Up in the great mountains, no distance from here. She lives in a +cave, with plenty of space for her knitting." + +"Does she knit _much_?" enquired Sidigunda. + +"Yes; she knits and spins too. She never leaves off; and never has for +hundreds and thousands of years." + +"What a very old lady she must be! Old enough to be a +great-great-great-grandmother!" cried the Princess in astonishment. + +"If you said three hundred '_greats_' you would be nearer the real +thing," remarked the Crab-boy. "But come now, follow me, and we will +start immediately." + +Princess Sidigunda got up, and taking the Crab-herd's hand, they set +off down the road towards the mountains. + +As they reached the foot of the grey cliffs, the Crab-boy unfolded a +pair of fin-like wings from his elbows, and began to swim +upwards--leaving the little Princess with her arms stretched out +imploringly towards him. + +"Oh, _don't_ leave me here by myself!" she cried. "I shall never find +my way to the Sea-grandmother!" + +"Why there she is, just above us in that cave in the side of the +mountain," said the Crab-boy. "Don't you see her beautiful white hair, +and the flash of her knitting-needles?" + +The Princess looked up, and there sat a beautiful old lady in a hole +in the rock, high, high above them. A crowd of Sea-children played +about her, and seemed to be carrying away the cloud-like white +knitting as fast as it flowed from her busy fingers. + +She bent her head towards Sidigunda, and nodded to her, without +ceasing her work for a moment. + +"Come, Princess, and talk to me!" she called in a sweet, low voice. +"Take your shoe off, and it will bring you here in a moment." + +Sidigunda did as she was told--for the old lady spoke as if she were +used to being obeyed without question--and found herself floating +upwards, until she alighted on a broad ledge right in front of the +Sea-grandmother. + +"So you have come all this way to find your golden shoe?" the old lady +said in her clear, even voice. "Sit down, and tell me all about it." + +The Princess thought the Sea-grandmother's face young and lovely. It +was smooth and unwrinkled; eyes clear as crystal, with blue depths in +them, shining out with a soft benign look; while her slim hands turned +and twisted unceasingly, and her long green dress fell round her in +wave-like folds. + +Her smile was so soft and kind, that the Princess felt as if she had +known her all her life. + +"I have sent for your shoe, my child," she said. "Those tiresome +grandchildren of mine give me a great deal of trouble. I can't keep my +eyes on all of them at once, and so they are always in mischief!" + +Sidigunda looked up in the gentle face; and sat down confidingly +beside the Sea-grandmother. + +"Do you always knit so busily, Grandmother?" she said, as she watched +the white foamy fabric float off the needles. + +"Of course, child. I have been working like this for thousands and +thousands of years. Who do you imagine would provide the waves with +nightcaps if _I_ ever stopped? When the wind blows and they dance, or +when they curl over on the shore, they would be cold indeed, without +my comfortable white nightcaps!" + +"Can you get me my shoe, dear Grandmother?" asked the little Princess +wistfully. + +"Certainly, dear child. Though if you had not come at once, you might +have had to wait a few hundred years or so, before I could have found +it for you. The children wander so far now-a-days! Have you seen it?" +the Sea-grandmother continued, turning to some of the children who +surrounded her. + +"Oh, yes," they answered in chorus. "Just now it floated above us. We +can fetch it in a minute!" + +"Swim away then, as fast as you can!" cried the Sea-grandmother, and +the children darted off like fish through the green clearness of the +water. + +The sound of their laughter had hardly died away in the distance, +before they reappeared, dragging the golden shoe behind them; and the +Princess, with smiles of joy, embraced them all as she drew it on to +her foot again. + +"Oh, thank you, dearest Grandmother! I don't know how I can show you +how grateful I am," cried Sidigunda. + +"By going home at once to your father and mother, and by promising me +_never_ again to be disobedient," said the Sea-grandmother gravely. +"Give me your shoe, and I will order it to take you back to the +Castle." + +She stopped her needles for a moment, and passed her hand over the +slipper: then kissed the little Princess, and waved the knitting +rapidly before her. + +A white cloud seemed to float over Sidigunda, and she felt herself +lifted up with a soothing motion, until on opening her eyes she found +she was once more in the region of the fresh air and sunshine. Looking +round, she saw the ruffled surface of the sea, and the waves breaking +upon the shore before the Castle. + +Her heart beat with happiness, as the golden shoe landed her safely on +the beach; and she ran up through the little gate into the Castle +gardens, right into the arms of her mother, who was pacing up and down +with her attendants, in great anxiety. + +Under the shade of some spreading fir trees the Princess related her +adventures, begging the King and Queen to forgive her for her +disobedience; and the whole Court was so delighted at her return that +everyone forgot to scold her. + +That evening bonfires were lighted on all the hill-tops; and a great +banquet was held in the Castle, at which the Princess appeared amidst +loud cheering, and, holding her father's hand, drank from a golden +goblet to the health of her Godfather, the Shore-Troll, and the +Sea-grandmother. + + + + +THE BADGER'S SCHOOL, + +OR + +THE ADVENTURES OF A BEAR FAMILY. + + +CHAPTER I. + +In the very heart of a great forest in Sweden lived a Bear family, +called "Bjornson." + +They were much respected throughout the whole neighbourhood, for they +were kind and hospitable to everyone; and as their home was in such an +unfrequented part of the country they were able often to give +entertainments which it was quite safe to attend without fear of +Foresters or other human inconveniences. + +Their house was built of large stones, neatly roofed with pine +branches, and was reached by a winding path through the rocks, the +entrance to which had become covered by a dense thicket of bushes. A +small wire had been cunningly arranged by the Bear-father, so that in +the event of any stranger entering the door a bell would be rung in +the Bear-kitchen; but so far the household had fortunately never been +alarmed by this contrivance. + +The two Bjornson children, Knut and Otto, led a very happy life in the +forest. Whenever they liked they could bring some of their young +companions home from the School-house in the evening; and then the +Bear-mother would seat herself on a tree-stump and play tunes for them +to dance to--for Fru Bjornson was highly educated, and had learnt the +concertina in all its branches. + +[Illustration: "THE BEAR-MOTHER HAD LEARNT THE CONCERTINA IN ALL ITS +BRANCHES"] + +This of course was all very delightful: but every morning Knut and +Otto were obliged to start off at daybreak with their books and +satchels for the forest School, and there a time of trouble usually +awaited them. It was kept by an old Badger of very uncertain temper, +and all his pupils stood in great awe of the birch rod which lay in a +conspicuous place upon his writing-table. + +"It's all very well for the Hedgehogs," the scholars often grumbled to +each other. "Of course _they_ can do just what they like, as they +happen to be covered all over with quills--but for _us_ it's a very +different affair!" + +Certainly strict discipline was maintained by the Badger during School +time. His eyes seemed to be upon everyone at once, and it was vain to +try and crack nuts, draw caricatures, or eat peppermint lozenges--the +rod would come down immediately with a _thump_! and the offender, as +he stood in a corner of the room with a fool's cap on, had time to +fully realize the foolishness of his own behaviour. + +Forest History and Arithmetic were the Badger's two favourite studies, +and each pupil was expected to know the Multiplication Table +upside-down, and to be able to give the date of any event in +Bear-history, without a moment's hesitation. + +It was perhaps not to be wondered at that the scholars were glad when +playtime arrived, and that they rushed home helter-skelter, with +shouts of joy, the moment the School-house door was thrown open. + +Many practical jokes had been tried upon the old Schoolmaster, and the +offenders had invariably been severely punished, but one day in early +autumn Knut and Otto, as they walked home with their friends, +suggested a plan which would sweep away at one blow a great part of +the misery of their School life. + +"You know the great History and Arithmetic books that Herr Badger +always keeps on the desk in front of him?" said Knut. "We'll scoop out +the insides and fill them with fireworks. Then directly he comes into +School, we'll let them off. What an explosion there'll be! He _will_ +be frightened! No more sums and dates after that. Hurrah! Hurrah!" + +The scholars jumped about with delight when they heard the young +Bears' idea, and eagerly agreed to join in the mischief. + +Their mothers were quite surprised the next morning to see with what +alacrity they all started for School--half-an-hour earlier than their +usual custom--and Fru Bjornson remarked to her old servant that "she +really believed the children were beginning to take an interest in +their studies _at last_!" + +The old Badger had not yet finished breakfast in his cottage by the +School-house; so his pupils were able to enter the School-room +unobserved, and had soon carried out their simple arrangements. + +An oiled string was attached, winding up the leg of the table to the +fireworks; and the end was to be lighted by Knut the moment Herr +Badger had seated himself. + +Everything being completed, the scholars seized their books; and when +their master appeared in the doorway, murmured a respectful greeting, +to which he responded by a stately bow. + +"Your slates, pupils. We will commence as usual with a few easy sums." + +A subdued groan broke from the scholars; and Knut--stooping down under +pretence of tying up his shoe--applied a match to the string, while +his companions shuffled as loudly as possible, to hide the sound of +the striking. + +"Silence, if you _please_!" shouted the Badger. "Have you come to +school to dance the polka? Attend to this little problem immediately, +and mind it is correctly answered. If 10,000 Bears and a Pole-cat, ran +round a tree 1,500 times and a half, in an hour and ten minutes; each +knocking off one leaf and three-quarters every time he ran round--how +many leaves would be knocked off in a fortnight?" + +"They couldn't do it," muttered a hedgehog derisively. "There +wouldn't be room for a quarter of them!" + +"Make haste! Make haste!" cried the Badger, rapping his desk; but just +at that moment, _whirr!_ _whizz!_ _bang!_ The books flew open with a +loud report, and out sprang the crackers, and began to fizz and bound +about the table. + +Herr Badger's black skull cap tumbled off, and he fell backwards in +his astonishment, shouting for help; while the whole school darted +away through the open door into the woods, in a state of the wildest +delight and excitement. + + +CHAPTER II. + +Fru Bjornson was busily employed in her kitchen, stirring up some +liquid in a large saucepan. It was cranberry jam for the winter, and +on the floor stood a long row of brown jars into which it was to be +poured when the boiling was thoroughly completed. + +The servant, a little thin light-brown Bear, in a large apron, waited +close by, ready to poke the fire, or give any other assistance that +was required of her. + +In the salon, Herr Bjornson, with a pucker on his forehead, was adding +up his Bee accounts--for he kept a number of hives in the garden and +fields belonging to him. + +Suddenly the alarm bell sounded loudly, and in rushed the Bear-mother, +with the jam-ladle in her hand, her hair almost erect with terror. + +"They have found us at last! What shall we do? Where shall we fly to?" +she cried distractedly. + +"Into the ice-cellar," cried Herr Bjornson, "come, Ingold. Everyone +follow me!" and he threw his papers down on the ground and ran out at +the back door. + +Fortunately the ice-cellar was near the house, and the frightened +family were soon safely in its shelter. + +By opening a crack in the small trap-door, which was level with the +ground, they were able to see all that went on in the garden; and the +steps afforded them a place to sit down upon, without touching the +great blocks of ice that looked white and ghostly as the thin streak +of daylight struggled in upon them. + +"Is anyone coming?" whispered the Bear-mother nervously. + +"I can't see anything moving," growled Herr Bjornson. "Keep back, +Mother. I can't help treading upon you. Dear me! How cramped we are +here!" + +"It's terribly cold," said the Bear-mother shivering. "I can feel +myself freezing in every hair." + +"Wrap your shawl round you, and stamp about a little." + +Fru Bjornson attempted to carry out the directions, but the space was +so small there was scarcely room to move in it. + +The air seemed to get colder and colder; Ingold's fur turned +frost-white, and she twined her apron round her head to prevent +herself from being frost-bitten. + +"Oh, this is awful," quaked the Bear-mother. "We shall all die or be +turned into icicles if we can't get out before long!" + +The Bear-father had put up his coat-collar and tied his bandanna +pocket-handkerchief over his ears. His hair was also covered with +white crystals, and he was seized with an attack of coughing which +obliged him to borrow the Bear-mother's shawl to bury his head in, so +that the sound might not be heard outside. + +"This is painful in the extreme," he said in a choked voice as he +emerged gasping. "A cough lozenge at this moment might be the saving +of us!" + +"What shall we do if the enemy hears us!" cried Fru Bjornson. "Here! I +have just found a peppermint-drop in my pocket. Let us divide it into +three. It may be some slight assistance." + +They soon discovered, however, that lozenges were utterly powerless to +keep out that biting air, and the Bear-mother seated herself +resignedly on an ice-block. + +"It's no good struggling against fate," she murmured. "We shall be +found by the children, I suppose. You'd better keep your arms down +straight, father; and freeze as narrow as possible. Then they will be +able to get you out of the opening without much difficulty. It seems +hard to think they will never know the true facts of the case," she +continued mournfully. "Our epitaph will probably be 'Sat down +carelessly in an Ice-house!'" + +"Don't despair, Mother," cried Herr Bjornson, who had one eye +anxiously applied to the crack in the trap-door. "I see the back gate +opening. In another minute we shall know the worst--Hi! What! Well, I +never! Who do you think it is, Mother? Why, _the Schoolmaster_!" + +Herr Badger indeed it was, who had come off in a great hurry to +complain of the disgraceful behaviour of his pupils, and being very +excited had inadvertently trodden on the wire of the alarm bell as he +entered the private grounds of the Bear-family. + +He seemed a little surprised as the strange procession suddenly rose +up out of the ground in front of him, but without making any enquiries +as to what they had been doing there, he plunged at once into the +history of his wrongs. + + +CHAPTER III. + +All day the Badger's scholars enjoyed themselves in the forest. They +played leap-frog, ran races, bathed in the river, had lunch in a shady +hollow, and picked more cranberries than they knew what to do with; +but as evening came on, they began to wonder a little anxiously +whether the Schoolmaster would already have been round to their +parents to complain of their behaviour; and when Knut and Otto entered +their own door in the bushes, their knees were shaking under them, and +it occurred to them that perhaps the fireworks hadn't been quite so +amusing as they expected, after all! + +They were met by Herr Bjornson with a gloomy frown. There was no doubt +that Herr Badger had told him everything, and the little Bears waited +tremblingly for what was to happen next. + +"What is this that I hear?" commenced the Father-bear angrily. "Your +respected Master ill-treated in his own School-house. Thrown violently +upon the ground, with crackers exploding round him for several hours! +What have you to say for yourselves?" + +"Please, father, we didn't mean to hurt him," began Knut in a piping +voice; "It was only to get rid of the books. We won't do it again!" + +"I should think _not_, indeed," said Herr Bjornson. "I shall punish +you myself severely to-morrow, after School time, and Herr Badger is +going to give you two hours' extra Arithmetic every day for a +fortnight." + +Knut and Otto crept off miserably into the garden, and that evening +there was no dancing, and the Bear-mother's concertina was silent. + +Before it was daylight next morning, Knut had awakened Otto. They had +determined the night before that they would _never_ return to Herr +Badger's rule, and the matter of the extra Arithmetic had settled +their determination. + +They started with their cloaks, and with lunch in their satchels, as +if going to School--leaving a note for their mother upon the kitchen +dresser. + +This letter was written with the stump of a lead pencil, and ran as +follows:-- + + "_To the well-born Fru Bjornson._ + + "_We cant keep at ilt any mor. We want to be inderpendent, and the + sums are 2 mutch. We sik our fortones, and return wen we ar rich._ + + "KNUT. OTTO." + +As soon as they reached the forest, the two little Bears ran forward +as quickly as they could towards the river. + +They intended to take any canoe they found by the shore, and row +themselves over to the opposite side. They did not know exactly what +they should do when they got there; but anyhow, they would be safe +from punishment when they were once over. + +As they went along they kept as much as possible behind the underwood, +though it was so early it was scarcely likely that any of the +charcoal-burners or fishermen would be stirring. + +After some search they discovered a small canoe drawn up under the +bushes, and untying it without much difficulty, they got in, and Knut +paddled actively out into the strong current. + +"This _is_ independence!" cried Otto, arranging the knapsacks and +cloaks in the bow of the boat, and taking up the steering-paddle. +"What would Herr Badger say if he could see us now?"--and he chuckled. + +All day they drifted down the river--watching the salmon dart about +the boulders, and the trout leap in the curling eddies. It was so +silent in the great forest, with the pine trees growing close to the +edge of the water, that at last the little Bears' high spirits began +to fail them; and as the evening came on their laughter ceased, and +they sat quietly in the canoe, steering their way between the great +rocks without speaking. + +"How strong the current is here," muttered Otto at last. "I can +scarcely keep the boat straight!" + +"Well, let's land and find some place to sleep in," cried Knut--but +this was more easily said than done. The moment they tried to turn the +canoe in towards the shore, it began to whirl round and round; and +finally striking against a stone, it upset the two little Bears into +the middle of the foaming river. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +Fortunately Knut and Otto were good swimmers, and they were able after +some struggling to scramble to the shore; but they found to their +great annoyance that they had landed on the same side as that from +which they had started. + +Their canoe was whirling rapidly away down the rapids, and it was +useless to think of recovering it; so the two little Bears proceeded +to dry their clothes as well as they could, and then looked about to +see if they could find a comfortable place to sleep in. + +A large hollow tree stood close to the edge of the river, and into +this they climbed, and being very tired they were soon fast asleep. + +They were awakened by voices. + +"It's _men_!" whispered Otto, clutching Knut's arm in terror. "Oh, why +did we ever run away! They'll be _sure_ to find us!" + +"Be quiet, Otto," muttered Knut. "Do you want them to hear? Lie still, +and I'll think of some way to escape." + +"Are you sure this is the right tree?" said a man's voice. + +"Don't you see the mark?" asked another. "The Forester put it on +himself; though it's rather high up. You'd better begin work at once, +or you'll not get through with it before he comes round again." + +This was awful. Otto trembled so that he could hear his own teeth +chattering; but Knut kept his presence of mind, and poking his brother +warningly, said in a hoarse whisper, + +"Wait till I give the signal, and then jump out after me as high in +the air as you can. Follow me till I tell you to stop." + +An echoing blow resounded against the tree trunk, which made Knut fly +up like a sky-rocket. + +"Now!" he cried, and bounding on to the edge of the opening, he jumped +right over the heads of the woodmen into the tangled bushes, followed +by Otto, and away they raced through the forest, before the astonished +men could recover themselves. + +"What in the world was that?" cried the wood-cutters, rubbing their +eyes and blinking; but no one had been able to see more than two +flying brown balls, and after hunting about in vain, they decided it +must have been a couple of gigantic owls. + +Only one thing did they find in the hollow tree, and that certainly +puzzled them--a small piece of crumpled paper, on which was sketched a +life-like picture of a Badger with a fool's cap on his head; +underneath, written in cramped letters-- + +"_How would you like it?_" + +After running for about half an hour, Knut sank down panting on a +juniper bush, while Otto rolled upon the moss thoroughly exhausted. + +"Arithmetic was better than this!" he panted dismally, fanning himself +with a large fern leaf. "History was better--_anything_ was better!" + +"Well, we're quite safe here for the present," replied Knut, "so don't +worry yourself any more. I'm so tired I can't keep awake, and I'm sure +you can't." And, indeed, in spite of their fright, in a few minutes +both the little Bears were sound asleep again. + +When they next opened their eyes, the sun was glinting through the +pine trees; and looking down on them benignly, stood a Fox in +travelling dress, with a soft felt hat upon his head. + +He smiled graciously upon Knut, and beckoned him to come out of the +juniper bushes. + +"Ha! ha! my good gentlemen, you are taking a comfortable rest in a +very secluded spot, but you can't escape _my_ observation!" he cried +cheerfully. "Are you on your way to some foreign Court--or perhaps you +are couriers with State secrets?" + +The two little Bears, feeling very flattered, sat up and straightened +their tunics. + +"The truth is, we are seeking our fortunes," said Knut with dignity. + +"Oh, nothing easier," replied the Fox. "You come with me. Such hearty, +well-grown young Bears will find no difficulty in getting excellent +situations. I can almost promise you each a large income if you +implicitly follow my directions." + +"Where should we go to, then?" asked Knut cautiously. + +"To a dear friend of mine, who employs an immense number of workmen," +said the Fox easily. "I will just let you see who I am before we +proceed further," and he drew a case from his pocket, and taking out a +card, presented it to the little Bears with a low bow. + +"Just as if we were grown up!" whispered Otto. "Oh, Knut, how +different this is to Herr Badger!" + +On the card, printed in elegant copper-plate, was the following-- + +"_Herr Kreutzen, Under-Secretary (and Working Member) of the Society +for promoting the welfare of Farmers._" + +Knut looked at Herr Kreutzen respectfully. + +"If you'll be so kind as to show us the way, we'll follow you at +once," he said. "If we could get a little breakfast on the way, we +should be glad; for we have lost our satchels, and berries are not +very satisfying." + +"Come along, then!" said the Fox briskly; and seizing the two little +Bears by the paw, he dragged them into the heart of the forest at a +rapid pace. + + +CHAPTER V. + +On the day after his visit to the Bjornson family, Herr Badger, +feeling very dull, sat alone in the cottage by the School-house. + +Every one of his pupils had deserted him; for not only had the two +little Bears run away, but all their companions had also played +truant; and the whole of that part of the forest was filled with +parents anxiously searching for their missing children--like a +gigantic game of hide-and-seek. + +Herr Badger called to his housekeeper to bring him the black-board, a +couple of globes, and the book of conic-sections, and for some hours +he amused himself happily; but at the end of that time he began to +experience an almost irresistible desire to teach something. + +"If I can't get anyone else, I'll call Brita," he said to himself. "I +can just ask her a few easy questions suited to her limited +intellect." + +The housekeeper came in, curtsying respectfully, and seated herself at +the table, as she was bidden. + +"I must imagine I have given up school, and taken to private pupils," +the Badger said to himself. "I hope she won't exasperate me, and make +me lose my temper! Now take this slate," he continued aloud, "and try +and do one of these simple sums. You'll soon get used to them-- + +"If five onions were to be boiled in six saucepans, how would you +divide the onions so that there would be exactly the same quantity in +each pan?" + +"Chop them up," replied the housekeeper promptly. + +The Badger glared. "You're not attending. I said, 'How would you +_divide_ them!'" + +"You might mince them very fine, or pound them in a mortar," replied +the housekeeper anxiously. "I don't know of no other way of doing it." + +"Work it out on the slate, creature!--on the _slate_!" cried Herr +Badger, thumping the table with his long ruler. + +"I'd rather do it on a dish, sir," said the housekeeper, trembling. +"It's more what I'm accustomed to." + +Herr Badger started up in a fury. "_You_ call yourself a private +pupil?" he shouted (quite forgetting that the housekeeper had never +called herself anything of the kind). "Go back to the kitchen +immediately." + +"I could bring you the Mole who blacks the boots, if _he'd_ be any +good," said the housekeeper humbly. "I know I'm very ignorant, but the +Mole tells me he's been attending day school for years, and he reads +recipes out of the cookery-book quite beautiful." + +"Don't speak to me of Moles!" said the Badger crossly. "I shall take +no more private pupils--they're not worth it." And he walked over to +the black-board, and began to draw diagrams. + +"What's the good of diagrams, without a class to explain them to?" he +muttered. "I declare I believe I _was_ too hard on those children. We +can't be all equally gifted. It wouldn't be a bad idea if I went out +as one of the search parties. I declare I _will_!" he continued, his +face brightening, "and I'll make every creature I find promise to come +back to school again. I must make up a class somehow, or I shall die +of monotony." + +He took down his old felt hat with the ear-flaps, and putting some +food in a knapsack, and choosing a stout walking-stick, he flung a +green cloak over his shoulders, and let himself out into the forest. + + +CHAPTER VI. + +The Fox took the two little Bears on so quickly, that they soon began +to feel both cross and tired. To their anxious enquiries as to where +they were going, and whether they could not soon have some breakfast, +Herr Kreutzen answered vaguely that they would very soon reach their +destination, and should have as much breakfast as they could possibly +care for. + +"My friends are kind worthy people, and you'll find every sort of +luxury," he said, smiling benignly. + +"We seem to be coming near a town," whispered Knut to Otto. "I don't +quite like this!" and he tried to pull his paw away from the good +"Secretary of the Society for promoting the welfare of Farmers." + +"Come along, my dear child. We are almost there," cried the Fox. "I am +just going to tie you both up to this tree for a minute--merely to be +sure you are quite safe and happy in my absence--and I shall return +with my kind friend, in no time!" + +Herr Kreutzen took some string from his pocket as he spoke, and the +two little Bears--who saw there was no use in struggling--submitted to +be fastened together to a fir tree. + +As soon as the Fox had disappeared, Otto burst into a loud roar of +terror. + +"Oh, he's going to do something dreadful, I know he is! We shall +never, _never_ get away again!" + +"It's no good making that noise," said Knut, angrily. "Leave off, +Otto, and let me think." + +"You may think for ever," wailed Otto, "and unless you've got a pocket +knife you won't get these knots undone!" and he began to cry again +with renewed vigour. + +"Why, whatever is the matter?" said a friendly voice close by. + +The little Bears looked round eagerly, and saw that an elderly Badger +was approaching. He was evidently a woodcutter, for he had a large axe +in his hand, and the three young Badgers who followed him were +carrying neatly-tied bundles of sticks. + +Knut stretched out his paw beseechingly. + +"_Please_ cut the string! Oh, _please_, Herr Badger, make haste, and +let us get free. Herr Kreutzen will be back in a minute, and then +there'll be _no_ hope for us!" + +"So this is some of _his_ work!" said the Badger angrily. "I declare +that creature is a plague to the whole forest!" + +With two blows of his axe he cut the strings that bound the little +Bears; and ordering them to follow him to a place of safety, he darted +through the bushes with his children, and never stopped until they +came out into a secluded valley, at the end of which, in a small +clearing, stood a hut built of pine logs. + +Before the door sat the Badger-mother with some plain sewing, while +five of the young Badger-children played about on the grass in front +of her. + +"You're home early to-day, father," she said cheerfully, and added, as +she caught sight of the little Bears--"Why, wherever did you pick up +these strangers, father?" + +The Badger described the unpleasant position in which he had found +them; and the whole family gathering round, Knut related their +adventures truthfully from the very beginning. + +"I'll tell you where the Fox was taking you, my children," said the +Badger-mother; "There's a Wild Beast Show in the town at this present +moment, and Herr Kreutzen has already enticed two or three animals +into it. He is well paid by the showman, and would have made a good +thing out of you, because you could have been taught to dance. Oh, +what a miserable fate you have escaped from!" + +Knut and Otto looked thoroughly ashamed of themselves, and began to +realize what their foolishness might have led them into. + +However, no one could be miserable for long at a time in the Badger +family; they were all so happy and light-hearted--so after a good +dinner, the two little Bears ran out into the garden, and forgot their +troubles in a romp with the children. + +"You did not know your old schoolmaster was a cousin of ours?" +remarked the Badger-mother, as they rested, later on, under a shady +fir tree. "He really is a worthy creature at heart, and you ought all +to try and put up with him as much as possible." + +"We really _will_," cried the two little Bears heartily. "If ever we +get back again, we really _will_!" and they thoroughly intended to +keep their promises. + +"I think this evening you should start for home before it grows dusk," +said the Badger-mother. "Father will see you well on your way, and +your parents must be longing to hear of you. Come into the house now, +and I will make you look respectable." + +Knut and Otto were all obedience, and followed the Badger-mother +meekly to the kitchen. Here she took down two large scrubbing-brushes, +and proceeded to give them a thorough tidying. Then their faces were +soaped, and finally two of the young Badgers' caps were placed upon +their heads--for their own had fallen off when they were upset into +the river. + +The elastics were very tight under their chins, but they refrained +from saying anything--and this showed how complete was their +reformation! + +Just as all the preparations were completed, there came a loud knock +at the door; and the Schoolmaster himself appeared, his clothes torn, +one flap off his hat, a bandage covering his right eye, leading in a +little crowd of scholars that he had collected with infinite toil from +many perilous positions. + +There were two Hedgehogs, a young Fox, five Badgers, a Mole, and a +tame Guinea-pig. All of them were more or less scratched, and dismal +looking; and some had evidently been in the water, for their clothes +were still dripping, and hung round them in the most uncomfortable +manner. + +"What! _you_ here, after all! Well, this is a happy meeting!" cried +Herr Badger, embracing the little Bears warmly. "I wasn't going home +till I'd found you--and here you are. A most fortunate coincidence!" + +"Sit down, sit down, cousin," said the Badger-mother hospitably. +"Bring in the pupils, and let them dry their hair before the +fire--they seem in a sad state, poor things!" + +"They certainly _do_ look a little untidy," said the Badger, "but we +shall soon remedy all that. I have been explaining to the class (at +least to as much as I've got of it)," he continued, turning to Knut, +"that the plan of the School is to be entirely reformed--ten minutes' +Arithmetic per day, and History _once_ weekly. What do you say to +that, children?" + +A feeble cheer arose from the pupils; and the two little Bears, +throwing themselves upon their knees, begged their Master's pardon for +all the trouble they had caused him. + + +CHAPTER VII. + +Fru Bjornson, seated on a camp-stool by the side of the entrance gate +to her house, was looking anxiously around her. Close by stood Ingold, +with one eye tightly screwed up, and an old-fashioned telescope in her +hand, trying in vain to adjust the focus. + +"What do you see now?" enquired the Bear-mother, leaning forward. + +"A great fog with snakes in it!" replied the servant truthfully. + +"Why, those are _trees_, of course!" said Fru Bjornson. "Turn the +screw a little more, and it will become as plain as possible." + +Ingold twisted her hand several times rapidly, and again applied her +eye to the end. + +"It doesn't seem like snakes now, does it?" asked the Bear-mother +triumphantly. + +"Oh, no! It's turned to milk with green splashes in it," said Ingold. + +"You don't see anything of my darling children, then?" enquired Fru +Bjornson. + +"Nothing at all, ma'am," said Ingold. "A telescope may be a wonderful +thing for those who haven't any eyes, but really I think _I_ see +better _without_ it." + +At this moment, through the trees, an extraordinary procession came in +sight; which caused the Bear-mother to jump up from her seat with a +cry of joy. + +Herr Badger, with his cloak thrown over one shoulder, leading Knut and +Otto by the hand; and behind them the rest of the pupils in single +file--depressed and gloomy, but resigned to whatever Fate might have +in store for them. + +Fru Bjornson ran forward, and clasped her children in her arms. + +It was a happy meeting; and as she thought the Schoolmaster would +already have gone through all the scolding that was necessary, she +refrained from adding a word more. + +"I've got the class together, ma'am," said Herr Badger triumphantly, +"and I'm never going to let it go again! The new School system +commences from to-morrow!" + + * * * * * + +All the parents agreed that the children had been sufficiently +punished during their wanderings in the forest, and they were +therefore allowed to return to their homes, without anything more +being said on the subject. + +The next morning the scholars assembled at the School-house in +excellent time; but most of them unfortunately, having lost their +satchels, were obliged to carry their books and luncheon, wrapped up +in untidy brown paper parcels--which was certainly very mortifying. + +"My dear pupils," commenced Herr Badger, as he entered the room and +bowed graciously, "on this auspicious occasion, I wish to call the +Arithmetic class for ten minutes only. We will begin, if you please, +with 'twice one'--repeating it three times over _without a failure_!" + + + + +BOBBIE'S TWO SHILLINGS. + +A Guinea-Pig Story. + + +CHAPTER I. + +On a sloping lawn, before an old-fashioned, rambling house, Bobbie and +Jerry were playing at nine-pins on a hot day in August. + +Under the shade of a cedar tree the under-nurse sat working; and "Aunt +Lucy"--an old lady with snow-white hair, crowned by a black mushroom +hat--was slowly pacing the gravel walk, digging out a weed here and +there with a long spud she carried for the purpose. + +Jerry was only playing nine-pins because Bobbie was so fond of them. +She did not care for them herself, for she thought that as she was ten +years old they were too babyish, but Bobbie was only eight, so of +course it was not to be expected of him that he would care for +"grown-up" things. + +There was a pleasant buzzing in the air, as old Jeptha Funnel led the +donkey in the mowing machine, up and down the wide lawn, pausing every +now and then to exchange a few words with the children. + +"When are you a-coming to tea with us, Master Bobbie, and +Missy?" he enquired, stopping to fan his heated face with a red +pocket-handkerchief. "James Seton's got some guinea-pigs that he talks +of bringing over for you to see, any day as you'll fix upon." + +"Oh, that _is_ nice. I do so long to have another!" cried Bobbie +rapturously. "I only want three-halfpence-farthing more, and I shall +have enough in my money-box to pay for it. Will James wait till +Friday?" + +"Of course he will, Master Bobbie; don't you worry your head about +that." + +"Well, it's an extraordinary thing, Jeptha, but you can't think how +I've been saving, and saving, and _saving_ for that guinea-pig; and it +seems as if I never _should_ have enough," said Bobbie confidentially. +"I saved up for 'Funnel'--the one that's called after you, you +know--in no time; but we were up in Scotland then, and there wasn't +hardly any shops that I _could_ spend my money in." + +"Things always _do_ seem a long time a-coming when you're longing for +them, so to speak, day and night, sir." + +"Yes, it's quite true that 'a watch-pocket never boils,'" said Bobbie. +"I shall leave off rattling the money-box, and try and forget all +about it till Friday." + +"You're right there, sir," said Jeptha, not noticing the new rendering +of the proverb, for he was as fond of long words and sentences as +Bobbie himself; "you come right up to the cottage on Friday, along of +nurse and Miss Jerry. The missus 'll have tea for you, and _I'll_ see +that Jim brings the guinea-pigs." + +"Does James Seton know anything about cats?" enquired Jerry eagerly. +"You know they're _my_ favourite animals--just like guinea-pigs are +Bobbie's--and I do want to get some new recipes for my cat-book!" + +"Why whatever is a cat-book, Miss Jerry?" asked Jeptha curiously. + +"Don't you know, Jeptha? I write down all sorts of cures for cats, and +what they ought to eat; and several times it's been very useful to +Miss Meadows and Maria." + +"I can't say _I_ know much about the subject, Miss Jerry, nor I don't +think Jim doesn't, neither, never having made a study of it, as you +may say. Miss Meadders is the tabby cat, ain't she? A very fine cat I +call her." + +"Yes; I made a portrait of her and Maria, to send to mamma out in +India, and Bobbie made a picture of Funnel (not _you_, you know). She +liked them so much. Shall I tell you why Bobbie is so interested in +guinea-pigs?" continued Jerry, taking the old man's hand, and speaking +in a mysterious whisper. + +"You know Jack belongs to the 'Cavey Club' at school, where all the +boys _must_ keep guinea-pigs; and he wrote Bobbie a letter last term +with a picture of a guinea-pig on the flap of the envelope, and 'Where +is it?' written where the tail ought to be. Ever since then Bobbie has +been _mad_ after guinea-pigs." + +"Yes, I can remember Master Jack a-walking in here with ten of 'em," +said Jeptha, "and keepin' 'em in the lumber room in houses made out of +cigar-boxes." + +"Oh, but Aunt Lucy found it out, and wouldn't allow it," said Jerry. +"They all had to be taken out to the stable yard again." + +"I must own I think on _that_ occasion yer Aunt was reasonable, Miss +Jerry; a guinea-pig don't seem a kind of a domestic indoor +animal--like a cat, for instance." + +"Will you have mufflings and crumfits for tea, do you think, when we +come?" enquired Bobbie, after a thoughtful pause. "Excuse me asking +you, but I do like them so very much." + +"Oh, Bobbie, you shouldn't say that!" cried Jerry, reprovingly; "it's +very impolite. Aunt Lucy would be quite _horrified_!" + +"Well, I don't _mean_ anything rude," said Bobbie. "I _do_ like them, +and I can't help it. I can't see why it's any more rude than if I said +I liked guinea-pigs." + + +CHAPTER II. + +The next day was a very wet one; and Aunt Lucy, coming up into the +schoolroom in the morning--as she invariably did, even during the +holidays--saw a most extraordinary collection of baskets standing on +the floor, in front of a small fire of sticks blazing away in the +fireplace. + +There was a large covered market basket, a fish bag with a skewer +through the top, and a small japanese basket, with a lid which was +kept in place by the poker and tongs laid carefully over it. + +The baskets were all occasionally agitated from within; and Aunt Lucy +found on enquiry that they contained the guinea-pig family, who having +been flooded out of their usual quarters by the rain, had been brought +in to a fire by Bobbie to be dried! + +"I really object to these animals in the house!" said Aunt Lucy, +trying to be severe; but Bobbie's face was so pathetic, she did not +order them to be taken out at once, as she had at first intended. + +"As soon as they are dry you must move them away, Bobbie," she +continued; "I have had quite enough trouble with Jack's. I can't have +the house turned into a menagerie." + +"Really, Aunt Lucy, you needn't mind Habbakuk and Funnel--they are so +very well behaved. I _have_ been debillerating whether I ought to +bring in Pompey, because his hair _streams_ out--but he did look so +cold and mis'rable, I thought you wouldn't objec'." + +At this moment a housemaid came up to say there were visitors in the +drawing-room. + +"It is your two uncles from India," said Aunt Lucy, taking Bobbie's +reluctant hand. "They have come on purpose to see you, so you must +leave the guinea-pigs for a minute--Jerry can stay with them, and +come down as soon as you return." + +Bobbie departed groaning, while the under-nurse good-naturedly made up +the fire, and began to dry the guinea-pigs with an old duster. + +In a few minutes Bobbie returned, his fat round face red with the +exertion of scrambling upstairs, his brown eyes sparkling. + +"What are they like?" enquired Jerry, who was not fond of visitors, as +Anne brushed at her curly hair, and tried in vain to flatten it to the +nursery regulation of smoothness. + +"Oh, two middle-aged, light gentlemen," replied Bobbie carelessly. +"One gave me a shilling to buy a guinea-pig, so now I'm quite safe in +telling James to bring them on Friday." And Bobbie seated himself +before the fire with Habbakuk and Funnel on his knees, and rubbed away +at them vigorously. + +Jerry retired downstairs, but reappeared in a very short time--rushing +into the room again like a whirlwind. + +"What do you think the uncles have promised us, Bobbie?" she cried +excitedly; "guess the most beautifullest thing you can possibly think +of!" + +"Guin----" commenced Bobbie, and checked himself hastily. + +"Certainly not!" said Jerry, with decision. "I said I must run up and +tell you, you'd be so _wild_ with joy; it begins with a 'P'--but it +isn't 'pig.' Now guess again." + +"Prawns, p'rambulators, prongs, pastry," commenced Bobbie rapidly. +"Well, none of those are very nice except pastry. I can't think of +anything more, Jerry, you _must_ tell me." + +"Pantomime!" said Jerry, triumphantly; "_next Saturday!_--what do you +say to that?" + +Bobbie's eyes twinkled. "With preserved seats, like we had last time! +Oh, splendid!" and he began to caper about the room with delight. + +"Well, this _has_ been a day!" he exclaimed, as he sank down, quite +exhausted. "What a lot for my diary! I'd better write it out at once, +before I forget it." + +A large book, interleaved with blotting-paper, was disinterred from +the play-box, and Bobbie sat down before it solemnly. + +The greater part of this book was filled with minute accounts of what +time its owner got up, and went to bed, what pudding he had for +dinner, and what lessons he learnt; but on this occasion the entry +assumed such large proportions that it spread right over the next day, +and was wandering into "Friday," when Bobbie suddenly remembered the +tea-party, and that room must certainly be left for _that_! + +Jerry, looking over his shoulder, when he had finished, read the +following, adorned with many blots and smudges:-- + + "Had sutch a day. 2 lite gentlemen who turnered into Unkels ('You + mean, "turned _out_ to be uncles,"' corrected Jerry) came And gave + me 1 shiling for the brown ginny-pig I acepted with thanks they + are goin to tak us Jerry and me to the pantermine and tea at Mrs. + Funnels on Fryday (not the Unkels but nurs). + + "P.S.--Plenty mor to say but no rume. cant put the puding to-day." + + +CHAPTER III. + +One of Bobbie's and Jerry's greatest treats was to have tea at the +cottage on the edge of the park, where old Mrs. Funnel presided over a +table covered with cakes and home-made delicacies. + +She always liked them to appear in good time; so punctually at four +o'clock on Friday, the invited tea-party--consisting of "Old Nurse," +in a crackling black silk, Jerry in spotless frilled cotton, and +Bobbie in a white sailor's suit, bristling with starch and pearl +buttons--made their way through the little garden of the Funnels' +house, and rapped importantly on the door with the end of nurse's +umbrella. + +Mrs. Funnel, who had been awaiting the summons, welcomed them +heartily; and Bobbie was relieved to see--on taking a cursory glance +at the table--that besides the usual array of good things, there was a +covered dish, which meant, as he knew by experience--muffins. + +Jeptha, in his Sunday coat, with a red geranium in his button-hole, +looked cheerfully conscious of his own splendour; and his wife's +little wrinkled face beamed with kindness and hospitality. + +"Jim can't get away yet, I'm sorry to say," she said, "but he'll be in +afterwards. Sit down, all of you, please. Draw up to the table, +ma'am!" + +Bobbie deposited his dog-skin gloves carefully in his hat, and seated +himself solemnly, trying to keep his eyes off the plum cake, for the +sake of good manners. + +"This bread's a bit heavy, mother!" remarked Jeptha, grappling with a +large loaf in the centre of the table. + +"I don't know how that can be," replied Mrs. Funnel cheerfully. "It +rose enough." + +"Then it must ha' sat down again!" said Jeptha. "It's that worritting +oven, ma'am"--turning to nurse; "I assure you we _do_ have a time with +it sometimes." + +The tea began merrily, and just in the middle of it the door opened, +and James Seton's sunburnt face looked in. He carried a basket which +Bobbie pounced upon eagerly, for he knew it contained the +long-expected guinea-pigs. + +Behind Jim stood a little woe-begone creature in a ragged dress, her +head covered by a large crumpled sun-bonnet. The tears were rolling +down her face, and in her hand she held the bottom of a broken glass +medicine bottle. + +"Look here, grandmother," said Jim, "I picked up this unfort'net +little mortal just outside the Lodge gates. She'd been into town to +buy some lotion for her sick mother, and she went and fell up against +a stone, and smashed her bottle; and now she's in a terrible state of +mind about it." + +The little girl was still crying bitterly; and Bobbie, who was very +tender-hearted, furtively wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, +and looked hard out of the window. + +"Sit you down, child, and have some tea. You're fair worn out with +misery," said Mrs. Funnel kindly. "After that we'll think of what's to +be done. How much did the medicine cost, child?" + +"Two shillings," said the child, with a fresh burst of sobbing. + +Bobbie discovered, to his great annoyance, that two large tears had +fallen down his own cheeks out of sympathy; and at the same moment he +seemed to feel his little wash-leather purse growing so large, that he +almost fancied in another moment it would burst out of his pocket. + +Exactly two shillings were in it--the price of the bottle of lotion, +or of two of Jim's guinea-pigs! Which should it be? + +"If only I hadn't bought Maria's collar last Monday, I could have got +you a bottle _easily_," cried Jerry, in great distress. "I've only +twopence-halfpenny left, but _do_ take it. Oh, you poor little girl, I +_am_ so sorry for you!" + +Bobbie felt very guilty, and his money seemed to weigh upon him like +lead. He watched the attractive brown guinea-pigs--who had been let +out of their basket--gambol about the parlour. His mind was a chaos. + +Suddenly he snatched out his purse, and thrust the two shillings into +the little girl's hand, before she could say anything. + +"Get the medicine, please," he said, in a gruff voice. "I don't want +the guinea-pigs, thank you, Jim." And opening the door hurriedly, he +darted off across the park towards home. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +"I do think it was one of the goodest things I ever heard of," said +Jerry confidentially, as she drove with one of the "light gentlemen" +to the pantomime. + +She had just finished an account of Bobbie's heroic sacrifice of the +day before; and as Bobbie himself was following in a hansom cab, with +the other uncle, it was quite safe to relate the whole story without +fear of interruptions. + +"He wanted those guinea-pigs _dreadfully_," continued Jerry, "and he +gave everything he had to the poor little girl. He cried horribly +about it, though. He was literally _roaring_ when we got back from +Mrs. Funnel's tea, though he went and hid himself so that we shouldn't +know; but nurse said his blouse was quite _damp_!" + +"Shall we go round on our way back, and order Bobbie some new +guinea-pigs, as a surprise?" asked Uncle Ronald, who had listened to +the story with all the respectful sympathy expected of him. + +Jerry gave a shriek of delight. "Oh, how _lovely_! May I choose? I +know just his favourite colours." + +As Bobbie took his usual stroll into the stable yard on Monday +morning, he was astonished to see Jeptha approaching him with a large +box on a wheelbarrow. + +"Summut for you, Master Bobbie. Come by rail; and there seems to be a +deal of moving about and squeaking a-goin' on inside!" + +Bobbie unfastened the covers with feverish haste; and there was a +hutch such as he had never even _dreamt_ of, with a row of four little +eager noses sticking out between the bars. + +A label hanging to the wire said, "From the two light gentlemen." + +"Well now, Master Bobbie, if ever I saw the like of that!" cried +Jeptha admiringly. "Why, they're all a-sittin' as comfortable as you +please, in a kind of a Eastern palace." + +Bobbie, who was almost delirious with delight and excitement, ran in +to fetch Jerry. + +"Oh, Jerry, come out!" he cried. "The light gentlemen--in a splendid +blue cage with red stripes, come by train! And such guinea-pigs! Just +the kind I wanted--two long-hair. Oh, I do think this is the +splendidest day of my life, and as long as I live I won't never forget +it!" + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Soap-Bubble Stories, by Fanny Barry + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOAP-BUBBLE STORIES *** + +***** This file should be named 28263.txt or 28263.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/2/6/28263/ + +Produced by Marcia Brooks, Woodie4, David Edwards and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net +(This file was produced from images generously made +available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +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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