diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/62328-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/62328-0.txt | 3177 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 3177 deletions
diff --git a/old/62328-0.txt b/old/62328-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 7c079c6..0000000 --- a/old/62328-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3177 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's The Dream Coach, by Anne Parrish and Dillwyn Parrish - -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/license - - -Title: The Dream Coach - -Author: Anne Parrish - Dillwyn Parrish - -Release Date: June 5, 2020 [EBook #62328] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DREAM COACH *** - - - - -Produced by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was -produced from images made available by the HathiTrust -Digital Library.) - - - - - - - - - - The Dream Coach - - - - -[Illustration] - - THE MACMILLAN COMPANY - NEW YORK · BOSTON · CHICAGO · DALLAS - ATLANTA · SAN FRANCISCO - - MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED - LONDON · BOMBAY · CALCUTTA - MELBOURNE - - THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD. - TORONTO - - - - -[Illustration] - - _The_ - DREAM COACH - - FARE: FORTY WINKS COACH LEAVES EVERY NIGHT FOR NO - ONE KNOWS WHERE * * AND HERE IS TOLD HOW A - PRINCESS, A LITTLE CHINESE EMPEROR, A FRENCH BOY & - A NORWEGIAN BOY TOOK TRIPS IN THIS GREAT COACH* - BY ANNE AND DILLWYN PARRISH * * WITH PICTURES & A - MAP _by_ THE AUTHORS - - - NEW YORK - THE MACMILLAN COMPANY - - * * * * * - - * * MCMXXIV * * - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1924, - BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. - - Set up and electrotyped. - Published September, 1924. - - - _Printed in the United States of America_ - - - - - To - EVERETT AND ROLAND JACKSON - - - - - CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - THE DREAM COACH 3 - - THE SEVEN WHITE DREAMS OF THE KING’S LITTLE DAUGHTER 9 - - GORAN’S DREAM 29 - - A BIRD CAGE WITH TASSELS OF PURPLE AND PEARLS 59 - (Three Dreams of a Little Chinese Emperor) - - “KING” PHILIPPE’S DREAM 87 - - - - -[Illustration] - - THE DREAM COACH - - - If you have been unhappy all the day, - Wait patiently until the night: - When in the sky the gentle stars are bright - The Dream Coach comes to carry you away. - -[Illustration] - - Great Coach, great Coach, how fat and bright your sides, - To please the child who rides! - Painted with funny men—see that one’s hose, - How blue! How red and long is that one’s nose! - And under this one’s arm a flapping cock! - -[Illustration] - - Great dandelions tell us what o’clock - With silver globe much bigger than the moon—— - Dream Coach, come soon! Come soon! - -[Illustration] - - What pretty pictures! Angels at their play, - And brown and lilac butterflies, and spray - Of stars, and animals from far away, - Grey elephants, a bright pink water bird; - Things lovely and absurd. - -[Illustration] - - As the wheels turn, they wake to lovely sound, - Musical boxes—as the wheels go round - They play a little silver spray of notes: - “Swift Runs the River”—“Bluebells in the Wood”—— - “The Waterfall”—“The Child Who Has Been Good”—— - Like splash of foam at keel of little boats. - -[Illustration] - - Under a sky of duck-egg green - Have you not seen - The hundred misty horses that delight - To draw the coach all night, - And the queer little Driver sitting high, - And singing to the sky? - -[Illustration] - - His hat is as tall as a cypress tree, - His hair is as white as snow; - His cheeks and his nose are as red as can be; - He sings: “Come along! Come along with me!” - Let us go! Let us go! - His coat is speckledy red and black, - His boots are as green as a beetle’s back, - His beard has a fringe of silver bells - And scarlet berries and small white shells, - And as through the night the Dream Coach gleams, - The song he sings like a banner streams: - “Nothing is real in all the world, - Nothing is real but dreams.” - - Through sound of rain the Dream Coach gallops fast. - All those that we have loved are riding there: - I hear their laughter on the misty air. - I wait for you—I have been waiting long: - Far off I hear the Driver’s tiny song—— - Oh, Dream Coach! Come at last! - (From _Knee-High to a Grasshopper_.) - - - - -[Illustration] - - The Seven White Dreams of the King’s Little Daughter - - -When the Driver of the Dream Coach reached the last small star in the -sky, he unharnessed his hundred misty horses and put them out to pasture -in the great blue meadow of Heaven. It was well he reached the end of -his journey when he did, for in another moment a mounting wave of -sunlight and wind, rushing up from the world far below, blew out the -silver-white flame of the star so that no one could follow the strange -Driver and his strange Coach to their resting place. - -Resting place? What a mistake! The Driver of the Dream Coach never -rests. You see, there are so many things to do even when he is carrying -no passengers. There are new dreams to invent: queer dreams, funny -dreams, fairy dreams, goblin dreams, happy dreams, exciting dreams, -short dreams, long dreams, brightly colored dreams, and dreams made out -of shadows and mist that vanish as soon as one opens one’s eyes. Then -there is the very bothersome matter of keeping the records straight, -records of those who deserve good dreams, those who need cheering with -ridiculous dreams, and those, alas, who have been bad and naughty and -have to be punished (how the little Driver hates this!) with nightmares. -It is hard to keep all those dreams from getting mixed up, there are so -many of them. Indeed, sometimes, they do get mixed up, and a good child, -who was meant to have a dream as pretty as a pansy or as funny as a -frog, gets a nightmare by mistake. But the Driver of the Dream Coach -tries as hard as he possibly can never to let this happen. He has so -very much to do that he never would catch up with his work no matter how -quickly his beautiful horses galloped from star to star, from world to -world, if there was not some one to help him. - -There are little angels who help the Driver of the Dream Coach. - -In their gold and white book they keep a record of every one on earth. - -As soon as the Driver of the Dream Coach had unharnessed his horses he -went to these angels and planned his next trip. What a busy night it was -to be! If I should use all the paper and all the pencils in the world I -could not begin to tell you about all the dreams he arranged to carry to -the sleeping world. - -And yet there was one child who was nearly forgotten, a little Princess -whose name had been written at the top of a new page which the Driver -had neglected to turn in his hurry. - -“Surely you are not going to forget the little Princess on her -birthday!” pleaded the little angels, turning the page. - -“Oh, dear!” said the Driver. “That will never do; now, will it? And -yet—I simply can’t pack another dream into the Coach. I’m sorry, but I’m -afraid——” - -“Oh, dear!” echoed the angels. - -“Perhaps——” - -Just then one of the youngest angels, who happened to be leaning over -the parapet of Paradise, saw the Princess begin to cry, and took in the -situation instantly. So he hurried to the others and suggested that he -himself should carry a dream to the little Princess. - -The Driver of the Dream Coach thought this was a splendid idea and -thanked him again and again for his help. - -That is how the seven white dreams of the King’s little daughter were -carried to her by an angel, and as you know (or if you don’t, I will -tell you) the dreams carried in the moonbeam basket of the angels are -the most beautiful of all. - -What did the Princess dream? - -That you shall hear. - -[Illustration] - -I cannot remember all the names of the King’s little daughter, and -indeed few can. The Archbishop who christened her says that he can, but -he is so great and so deaf a dignitary that no one would think of asking -him to prove it. They are all there, twelve pages of them, in the great -book where are recorded the baptisms of all the Royal babies, so that -you can look for yourself if none of the ones I can remember—Angelica -Mary Delphine Violet Candida Pamelia Petronella Victoire Veronica Monica -Anastasia Yvonne—happen to please you. - -It was the fifth birthday of the little Princess, and there were to be -great celebrations in her honor. Fireworks would blossom in the night -sky, and in the gardens lanterns were hung like bubbles of colored light -from white rose tree to red, while the great fountains would turn from -pink to mauve, from mauve to azure, to amber, and to green, as they -flung up slender stems and great spreading lacy fronds of water. Every -one from the King down to the smallest kitchen-maid had new clothes for -the occasion, and the Chief Cook had created a birthday cake iced with -fairy grottoes and gardens of spun sugar, so huge and so heavy that the -Princess’s ten pages in their new sky-blue and silver liveries, -staggered under the weight of it. - -The little Princess had a new gown of white satin, sewn so thickly with -pearls that it was perfectly stiff, and stood as well without her as -when she was inside it. It was standing by her bedside when the bells of -the city awoke her on her birthday morning, together with her silver -bath shaped like a great shell, and her nine lace petticoats, and her -hoops to go over the petticoats, and her little white slippers on a -cushion of cloth-of-silver, and her whalebone stays, and her cobweb -stockings, and her ten Ladies-In-Waiting, Grand Duchesses every one. -When she opened her blue eyes they all swept her the deepest curtsies, -their skirts of bright brocade billowing up about them, and said -together: - -“Long Life and Happiness to Your Serene Highness!” and then the first -Grand Duchess popped her out of bed and into her bath, where she got a -great deal of soap in the Princess’s eyes while she conversed in a most -respectful and edifying manner. - -The second Grand Duchess, who was -Lady-In-Waiting-In-Charge-Of-The-Imperial-Towel, was even more -respectful, and nearly rubbed the Princess’s tiny button of a nose -entirely off her face. - -The third Grand Duchess brushed and combed the little duck tails of -yellow silk that covered the Royal head; and _oh_, how she did pull! - -The fourth Grand Duchess was -Lady-In-Waiting-In-Charge-Of-The-Imperial-Shift, and as she was rather -old and slow, although extremely noble, the Princess grew cold indeed -before the shift covered up her little pink body. - -The fifth Grand Duchess put on the rigid stays. - -The sixth put on the stockings and slippers. - -The seventh was very important and gave herself airs, for the nine lace -petticoats were her concern. - -The eighth Grand Duchess was -Lady-In-Waiting-In-Charge-Of-The-Imperial-Hoops. - -The ninth put on the little Princess the dress of satin and pearls, that -glowed softly like moonlit drops of water. - -And the tenth Grand Duchess, the oldest and ugliest and noblest and -crossest and most respectful of them all, placed on the yellow head the -little frosty crown of diamonds. - -Then the Princess’s Father Confessor, a very noble Prince of the Church, -dressed in violet from top to toe, came in between two little boys in -lace, and said a long prayer in Latin. It was so long that, I am sorry -to have to tell you, right in the middle the Princess yawned, so of -course another long prayer had to be said to ask Heaven to overlook such -shocking wickedness on the part of Her Highness. - -Then the Chief-Steward-In-Attendance-On-The-Princess brought her -breakfast—bread and milk in a silver porringer. The little Princess had -hoped for strawberries, as it was her birthday, but the Chief Gardener -was saving every strawberry in the Royal gardens for the great Birthday -Banquet that was to be held that evening. - -Then the little Princess went to say good morning to her Mother and -Father, and this is the way she went. - -First came two heralds in forest green, blowing on silver trumpets. Then -came the Father Confessor and his little lace-covered boys. Then came -the Ladies-In-Waiting in their bright brocades, with feathers in their -powdered hair, and after each lady came a little black page to carry her -handkerchief on a satin cushion. The ten pages of the Princess were -next, and after them came the Royal Baby’s Own Regiment of Dragoons in -white and scarlet. And last came four gigantic blacks wearing white loin -cloths and enormous turbans of flamingo pink, and carrying a great -canopy of cloth-of-silver fringed with pearls, and under this, very -tiny, and looking, in her spreading gown, like a little white hollyhock -out for a walk, came the Princess. - -[Illustration: The nine lace petticoats were her concern.] - -After she had curtsied, and kissed the hands of her Royal parents, her -Father gave her a rope of milk-white pearls and her Mother gave her a -ruby as big as a pigeon’s egg, both of which were instantly locked up in -the Royal treasury. They then bestowed upon her, in addition to her -other titles, that of Grand Duchess of Pinchpinchowitz, which took so -long to do that when she had said thank you it was time for lunch, which -was just the same as breakfast, except that this time the porringer was -gold. - -After lunch the Prime Minister read the Princess an illuminated Birthday -Greeting from her loyal subjects, which ran along so that the -Ladies-In-Waiting nearly yawned their heads off behind their painted -fans, and the Princess had a nice little nap, and dreamed that there -would be strawberries for supper. - -But instead there was bread and milk in a porringer covered with -turquoises and moonstones. - -Then, as the younger Ladies-In-Waiting were thinking of the -Gentlemen-Of-The-Court who would be waiting for them among the rose -trees and yew hedges, to watch the colored water of the fountains and -listen to the harps and flutes, and as the older Ladies-In-Waiting were -thinking of comfortable seats out of a draught in the State Ball Room, -and having the choicest morsels of roasted peacock and larks’ tongue pie -and frozen nectarines, they popped the Princess into bed pretty -promptly—indeed, an hour earlier than usual—and went off to celebrate -her birthday. - -The room in which the little Princess lay was as big as a church, and -the great bed was as big as a chapel. Four carved posts as tall as palm -trees in a tropic jungle, held a canopy of needlework where hunters rode -and hounds gave chase and deer fled through dark forests. Below this lay -the broad smooth expanse of silken sheet and counterpane, and in the -midst, as little and alone as a bird in an empty sky, lay the King’s -little daughter. - -One large tear rolled down her round pink cheek, and then another. The -long dull day had tired her, and the great dim room frightened her, and -she wanted to see the fireworks she had heard her pages whispering -about. She sat up among her lace pillows, and her tears went splash, -splash, on the embroidered flowers and leaves of her coverlet. - -[Illustration] - -One of the youngest angels happened to be leaning over the parapet of -Paradise when the Princess began to cry, and he took in the situation -instantly, and hurried off to his Heavenly playmates to tell them about -it. “It is her birthday,” he said, “and no one has given her as much as -a red apple or a white rose—only silly old rubies and pearls that she -wasn’t even allowed to play marbles with! And now they have left her to -weep in the dark while they dance and feast! I shall go down to her and -sit by her bed till her tears are dry, and take her a white dream as a -gift.” - -“Oh, let me send a dream too!” cried another angel. “And let me!” “And -let me!” So that by the time the little angel was ready to start to -earth there were seven white dreams to be taken as birthday gifts from -Heaven, and he had to weave a basket of moonbeams to carry them in. - - -That night the Princess dreamed that she was a daisy in a field, dancing -delicately in the wind among other daisies as thick as the stars in the -Milky Way. Feathery grasses danced with them, and yellow butterflies -danced above, and the larks in the sky flung down cascades of lovely -notes that scattered like spray on the joyous wind. - -Some poor little girls were playing in the field. Their feet were bare -and their faded frocks were torn, but they danced and sang too. There -came a rumbling like thunder, and through a gap in the hawthorn hedge -the children and the daisies saw the King’s little daughter driven past -in her great scarlet coach drawn by eight dappled horses. They could see -the little Princess sitting up very straight with her crinoline puffing -about her and her crown on her head, and after she had passed all the -children played that they were princesses, making daisy crowns for their -heads, and hoops of brier boughs to hold out their limp little -petticoats. - -[Illustration] - -The next day the Princess looked in vain for a daisy as she took her -morning constitutional in the Royal gardens. There were roses and -lilies, blue irises, and striped red and yellow carnations tied to -stakes, all stiff and straight. - -“Hold up your head, Serene Highness!” snapped one of the -Ladies-In-Waiting, who had had too many cherry tarts at too late an hour -the night before. - -But daisies danced in the Princess’s heart. - - -The next night the Princess dreamed that she was a little white cloud -afloat in the bright blue sky. She floated over the blue sea and the -white sand, and over black forests of whispering pines, and over a land -where fields of tulips bloomed for miles, in squares of lovely colors, -delicate rose and mauve and purple, coppery pink and creamy yellow, with -canals running through them like strips of old, dark looking-glass. She -floated over rye fields turning silver in the wind, and over nuns at -work in their walled gardens, and finally over a great grim palace where -a King’s little daughter lived. “I would rather be free and afloat in -the sky,” thought the small white cloud. - - -When she took the air the next day, she looked up to see if any white -clouds were in the sky. “Her Highness is growing very proud,” said the -Ladies-In-Waiting. “She holds her nose up in the air as a King’s -daughter should.” - -[Illustration] - -On the third night, the Princess dreamed she was a little lamb skipping -and nibbling the new green grass in a meadow where hundreds of lilies of -the valley were in bloom. They were still wet and sparkling with rain, -but now the sun shone and a beautiful rainbow arched above the meadow -and the lilies of the valley and the happy little lamb. - -[Illustration] - -Through the rest of her life the gentleness of the lamb lay in the heart -of the Princess. - - -The next night she dreamed that she was a white butterfly drifting with -other butterflies among the tree ferns and orchids of the jungle, gentle -and safe from harm, although serpents lay among the branches of the -trees and lions and tigers roamed through the green shadows. - -[Illustration] - -A white butterfly flew in at her window the next day. “A moth! A moth!” -cried the Ladies-In-Waiting. “Camphor and boughs of cedar must be -procured instantly, or the dreadful creature will eat up Her Highness’s -ermine robes!” - -But the little Princess knew better than that. - - -On the fifth night she dreamed that she was a tiny white egg lying in a -nest that a humming bird had hung to a spray of fern by a rope of -twisted spider’s web. The nest was softly and warmly lined with silky -down, and above her was the soft warmth of the mother bird’s breast. - -[Illustration] - -On the sixth night she was a snowflake. It was Christmas night, and the -towns and villages were gay. Rosy light poured from every window, -blurred by the falling snow, and the air was full of the sound of bells. -High up on the mountain was a lonely wayside shrine with carved and -painted wooden figures of the Mother and Her Child whose Birthday it -was. There were no bells there, nor yellow candle light, but only snow -and dark evergreen trees. The snowflake, whirling and dancing down from -the sky, a tiny frosty star, gave its life as a birthday gift to the -Holy Child, lying for its little moment in His outstretched hand. - -[Illustration] - -The angel was distressed to find, on the seventh night, that the seventh -dream had slipped through a hole in the moonbeam basket and was lost. -Careless little angel! But it really did not matter, for instead of a -dream, he showed himself to the Princess. And she liked that the best of -all, for she had never had any one to play with before, and there is no -playmate equal to an angel. But the seventh dream is still drifting -about the world—I wonder where? Perhaps it will be upon my pillow -to-night—perhaps upon yours. Who knows? - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration] - - Goran’s Dream - - -Crack! went the Driver’s whip, but it did not hurt the galloping misty -horses, for it was only a ribbon of rainbow that he liked to use because -both he and his horses thought it so pretty. And away went the great -Coach, over the forests and over the seas, over the cities and plains, -to a country where the sea thrusts long silver fingers into the land, -where mountains are white with snow at the same time that the meadows -are bright with wild flowers, and where in summer the sun never sets, -and in winter it never rises. And here the Dream Coach drew up beside a -cottage where a lonely little Norwegian boy was falling asleep. - -“Come, Goran!” called the Driver. “Come, climb into the Coach and find -the dream I have brought for you!” - -Who was Goran? What dream did he find? - -That you shall hear. - -[Illustration] - - -Little Goran and his grandmother lived in a tiny house in Norway, high -above the deep waters of a fjord. When Goran was a baby they used to tie -one end of a rope around his waist and the other to the door, so that if -he toddled over the edge he could be hauled back like a fish on a line. -But now he was no longer a baby, but a big boy, six years old, and he -tried to take care of his grandmother as a big boy should. - -It was a lovely spot in summer, when the waterfalls went pouring down -milk-white into the green fjord, sending up so much spray that they -looked as if they were steaming hot; when rainbows hung in the sky; when -the small steep meadows were bright with wild flowers, and even the sod -roof of the cottage was like a little wild garden of harebells and -pansies and strawberries that Goran gathered for breakfast sometimes. He -was happy all day then, fishing in the fjord, making a little cart for -Nanna, the goat, to pull, trying to teach Gustava, the hen, to sing, -putting on his fingers the pink and purple hats that he picked from the -tall spires of wild foxglove and monkshood, and making them dance and -bow, and listening to the loud music of the waterfalls after rain. - -And in the evening after supper Goran’s grandmother would tell him -splendid stories while they sat together in the doorway making straw -beehives, sewing the rounds of straw together with split blackberry -briers. The sun would shine on the straw and make it look so yellow and -glistening that Goran would pretend he was making a golden beehive for -the Queen Bee’s palace. For where Goran lived the sun never sets at all -in the middle of summer, and it is bright daylight not only all day, but -all night as well. You and I would never have known when to go to bed, -but Goran and his grandmother were used to it, and even Gustava, the -hen, knew enough to put her head under her wing and make her own dark -night. - -But with winter, changes came. The flowers slept under the earth until -spring’s call should wake them, and yawning and stretching, -_s-t-r-e-t-c-h-i-n-g_, they should stretch up into the air and sunlight. -The waterfalls no longer flung up clouds of spray like smoke, but built -roofs of ice over themselves. And, strangest of all, the winter darkness -came, so that the days were like the nights, and you and I would never -have known when to get up. - -“I must go to the village for our winter supplies before the snow falls -and cuts us off,” his grandmother said to Goran one day. “Neighbor -Skylstad has offered me a seat in his rowboat to-morrow, and will bring -me back the next day. You won’t be afraid to stay here alone, will you, -Goran?” - -“No, Grandmother,” said Goran. He pretended to be tremendously -interested in poking his finger into the earth in a geranium pot, so -that his grandmother shouldn’t see that his eyes were full of tears and -his lower lip was trembling. For to tell you the truth he was -frightened. The little house was so far from any other house, and then -Goran had never spent a night alone. Last year when the winter’s -supplies were bought, he had gone to the village with his grandfather, -and he had told Nanna and Gustava and Mejau, the cat, all about what a -wonderful place it was, a thousand times over; the warm shop, with its -great cheeses in wooden boxes painted with bright birds and flowers, and -its glowing stove, as tall and slim as a proud lady in a black dress, -with a wreath of iron ferns upon her head; the other children who had -let him play with them while grandfather exchanged the socks and mittens -knitted by grandmother for potatoes and candles. And they had slept at -the inn under a feather bed so heavy that you would have thought by -morning they would have been pressed as flat as the flowers in -grandmother’s big Bible. But they weren’t! They got up just as round as -ever, and had a wonderful breakfast of dark grayish-brown goats’-milk -cheese, cold herring, and stewed bilberries. Grandfather had gone to -Heaven since then, and Goran wondered if he could possibly be finding it -as delightful as the village. - -How he did want to go this time! But of course he knew that some one -must stay behind to feed Nanna and Gustava and Mejau, to tend the fire -and water the geraniums and wind the clock. So he said as bravely as he -could: “I’ll take care of everything, Grandmother.” - - -Soon after his grandmother left, the snow began to fall. How that -frightened Goran! Suppose it snowed so hard that she could never get -back to him! For when winter really began, the little house was often up -to its chimney in snow, and they could get to no one, and no one could -get to them. - -How poor little Goran’s heart began to hammer at the thought! He fell to -work to make himself forget the snow. First, seizing a broom made of a -bundle of twigs, he swept the hard earth floor, which in summer had so -pretty a carpet of green leaves, strewn fresh every day by Goran and his -grandmother. Then he poured some water on the geraniums in the window, -only spilling a little on himself. Then he stroked Mejau, who was -purring loudly in front of the fire; and all this made him feel much -better. - -“Time for dinner, Goran!” said the old clock on the wall. At least it -said: - -“Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! -Ding!” which meant the same thing. - -So Goran ate the goats’-milk cheese and black bread that his grandmother -had left for him; and then, and not before, he summoned up enough -courage to look out to see if the snow was still falling. - -It was snowing harder than ever, and already everything had a deep -fluffy covering. Oh, would his grandmother ever be able to get back to -him? But he must be brave, and not cry, for he was six years old. He -said a little prayer, as his grandmother had taught him to do whenever -he was frightened or unhappy, and his heavy heart grew lighter. - -“I’ll make a snowman,” Goran decided. Perhaps then the time would seem -shorter. Grandfather and he had made a splendid snowman after the first -snowfall last winter. - -It was not late enough in the year to have the day as dark as night. It -was only as dark as a deep winter twilight, and the white snow seemed to -give out a light of its own for Goran to work by. - -First he found an old broomstick and thrust it into the snow so that it -stood upright. Then he pushed the heavy wet snow around it, patting on -here, scooping out there, until there was a body to hold the big -snowball he rolled for the head. A bent twig pressed in made a pleasant -smile, and for eyes Goran ran indoors and took from the little box that -held his treasures two marbles of sky-blue glass that his grandfather -had given him once for his birthday. - -What a beautiful snowman! With his sky-blue eyes he gazed through the -falling snow at little Goran. - - -“Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!” called the old clock, and that was the -same as saying: - -“Time for supper, Goran!” - -The fire lit up the room with a warm glow, painted the curtains crimson, -and made wavering gigantic shadows on the walls. The water bubbled in -the pot, and the boiling potatoes knocked against the lid. “Prr-prrr!” -said Mejau, blinking in front of the blaze, and the old clock answered: - -“Tock! Tick! Tock!” - -Goran had given their supper to Nanna and Gustava and Mejau, and had -taken one good-night look at his snowman. Now he put his bowl of boiled -potatoes on the table in front of the fire, and pulled up his chair. - -Lying on the floor where she had fallen from his box when he was getting -his snowman’s blue eyes was a playing card, the Queen of Clubs. His -grandfather had found it lying in the road in the village, and had -brought it home as a present for Goran. The little boy thought the Queen -was very splendid, with her crown and her veil, and her red dress -trimmed with bands of blue and leaves and stars and rising suns of -yellow. In one hand she held on high a little yellow flower. Now he -picked her up and put her on a chair beside him, pretending the Queen -had come for supper to keep him from being lonely. Each mouthful of -potato he first offered her, with great politeness, but the delicate -lady only gazed off into space. - -Goran’s supper made his insides feel as if a soft blanket had been -tucked cozily about them, and he was warm and sleepy. - -“Was there anything else Grandmother told me to do before I went to -bed?” he murmured. - -“Tick! Tock! Yes, there was,” the Clock replied. “She told you to wind -me up. Climb on a chair and do it carefully. Don’t shake me. I can’t -stand that, for I’m not as young as I used to be.” - -“And I want a drink!” cried the youngest geranium, who was little, and -had been hidden by the bigger pots when Goran watered them. - -_Knock, knock, knock!_ - -What a knocking at the door! Goran ran to open it, and the firelight -fell on Nanna the Goat and Gustava the Hen against a background of -whirling snow. Nanna was wearing Grandmother’s quilted jacket—where in -the world had she found that? And Gustava had wrapped Goran’s muffler -about herself and the little basket she carried on her wing. - -“Good evening!” began Nanna, rather timidly for her. “May Gustava and I -come in and sit by the fire? We thought you might be lonely, and then it -is so cold in the shed. I did have a muffler like Gustava’s, but I -absent-mindedly ate it. I’m growing _very_ absent-minded. We’ve come -with an important message for you, but I can’t remember what it is. Can -you, Gustava?” - -“Cluck! Clu-uck! No, I can’t. But I’ve brought my beautiful child to -call on you,” said Gustava; and she lifted her wing and showed Goran the -brown egg in her basket. - -“Shut the door! Shut the door!” several Geraniums called indignantly. -“We are very delicate, and we shall catch our deaths of cold!” - -So in came Nanna and Gustava and Gustava’s Egg, and Goran shut the door. - -“Present my subjects!” commanded the Queen of Clubs, and Goran saw that -she was no longer a little card, but a lady as big as his grandmother. -In front she still wore her blue and red and yellow dress, but in back -she was all blue, every inch of her, with a pattern of gilt stars, and -when she turned sideways she seemed to vanish, for she was only as thick -as cardboard. But she was so proud and grand that Goran wished he had on -his Sunday suit, with the long black trousers and the short black jacket -with its big silver buttons, the waistcoat all covered with needlework -flowers, and the raspberry pink neckerchief. - -“This is Nanna, our Goat, your Majesty,” he said. - -“Goat, you may kiss my hand,” said the Queen. - -“I don’t know whether I want to,” replied rude Nanna, who had never been -presented to a Queen before, and didn’t know the proper way to behave. - -“Mercy on us! What manners!” cried the Geraniums, blushing deep red that -the Queen should be spoken to in that manner, in what they thought of as -_their_ house. - -“But I wouldn’t mind eating your yellow flower,” continued Nanna. “I -like to eat flowers.” And she looked at the Geraniums, who nearly -fainted. - -“Your turn next,” said the Queen to Gustava. She had heard gentlemen say -that so often when they were playing _Skat_ with her and her companions -that she always repeated it when she could think of nothing else to say. - -“Squawk! Cluck!” cried Gustava. “Would your Majesty like to see my -beautiful child?” and she showed the Queen her Egg. “Just look, your -Majesty! Have you ever seen anything more lovely? Such a pale brown -color! Such an innocent expression! Perhaps your Majesty is also a -mother?” - -“Tick! Tock! Don’t forget to wind me!” said the old Clock. - -[Illustration: This is Nanna, our Goat, your Majesty.] - -“Gustava Hen talks too much,” the fat Teapot in the corner cupboard told -her daughters the Teacups. “When the Queen speaks to _you_, just say -‘Yes, your Majesty,’ and ‘No, your Majesty,’ and I dare say she will -take you all to Court and find you handsome husbands among the Royal -Coffeecups.” - -[Illustration] - -“Your Majesty should see my beautiful home,” went on Gustava. “A nest of -pure gold!” (She thought it was gold, but it was really yellow straw.) - -“Just like my throne,” replied the Queen. “Speaking of beautiful homes, -you _should_ see my Palace! There are fifty-three rooms!” (She said this -because it was the highest number she knew, for there are fifty-three -cards in the pack, counting the Joker who keeps all the cards amused -when they are shut up in their box. And she had seen a room in the -Palace, because she had been used in a game of _Skat_ there, once in her -early youth. But that was long, long ago.) - -“My throne and the King’s throne are pure gold, just like your nest, my -good Gustava. And the walls are painted red and white, in swirls, like -strawberries and cream. The stove has such a tall slender figure, and -wears a golden crown. And then, just imagine, all the lamps are dripping -with icicles at the same time that the floor is covered with blooming -roses!” (For that is how she thought of the glass lusters on the lamps -and the carpet on the floor.) - -“Icicles! Ice! Freezing! _That_ reminds me of our important message!” -cried Nanna. “Your Snowman, Goran. He looks so dreadfully cold out -there, we were afraid he would perish.” - -“Oh, yes! How could we have forgotten for so long! Cluck! Cluck! Cluck! -He will certainly be frozen to death unless something is done quickly!” - -“Do you mean to tell me that any one is out of doors on such a night as -this?” questioned the Queen. “Have him brought in at once! Your turn -next!” And she looked so severely at Goran that he felt his ears getting -red. - -So Goran and Nanna brought the Snowman in, while the Queen gave orders -from the doorway, Gustava sat on her darling Egg to keep it warm, Mejau -walked away with his tail as big as a bottle brush, and the Geraniums -cried in chorus: - -“Shut the door! Shut the door! We shall all catch cold!” - -[Illustration: The Queen and the Snowman.] - -“Poor thing! How pale he is!” exclaimed the Queen. “And how dreadfully -cold! Put him in a chair by the fire!” - -The Snowman looked out of wondering sky-blue glass eyes, but said never -a word, for he was very shy; and as he had only been born that -afternoon, everything in the world was new to him. - -“I want a drink!” cried the youngest Geranium; and: “Tick! Tock! Tick! -Don’t forget to wind me!” the old Clock repeated; but no one paid any -attention to them. - -“Your turn next!” said the Queen to Nanna. “Make a blaze, for this poor -creature is nearly frozen.” So with a clatter of tiny hoofs, Nanna built -up the fire, only pausing to eat a twig or two, until even Mejau was -nearly roasted. - -But the poor Snowman was worse instead of better. His twig mouth still -smiled bravely, and his blue eyes remained wide open, but tears seemed -to pour down his cheeks, and he was growing thinner before their very -eyes. - -“If you please,” he said in a timid voice, “I’m——” - -“Give him a drink of something hot,” advised the fat Teapot, and that -reminded the youngest Geranium, who began screaming: - -“I want a drink! I want a drink! I want a drink!” - -[Illustration] - -“I’ll be delighted to oblige with some nice warm milk,” Nanna offered, -so Goran milked a bowlful. But the Snowman could not drink it, and the -tears ran faster and faster down his face. - -“If you please——” he began again, faintly. - -“We must put him to bed,” the Queen interrupted, with a stern look at -Gustava who was sitting on her darling Egg in the center of -Grandmother’s feather bed. “Your turn next!” - -Grandmother’s bed was built into the wall, like a cupboard. It was all -carved with harebells and pinecones and kobolds and nixies. The kobolds -are the elves who live in the mountain forests, and the nixies are water -fairies who sit under the waterfalls playing upon their harps and making -the sweetest music in the world. There was a big white feather bed on -Grandmother’s bed, and a big red feather bed on top of that, and two fat -pillows stuffed with goose feathers. And above all this was a little -shelf with two smaller feather beds and two smaller pillows, and that -was Goran’s bed. On dreadfully cold nights they pulled two little wooden -doors shut, and there they were, quite warm and cozy—even quite stuffy, -you and I might think! The doors of the bed were painted with pink -tulips and red hearts, and Grandmother said it made her feel quite young -and warm to look at them, and Goran said it made him feel quite young -and warm too. And Gustava the Hen thought they were beautiful, so there -she sat on her darling Egg, and as she could never think of more than -one thing at a time, she had forgotten all about the Snowman, and was -happily clucking this song to her Egg: - - “Make a wreath, I beg, - For my darling Egg! - - “Flowers blue as cloudless sky - When the summer Sun is high, - Harebells, little cups of blue, - Holding drops of crystal dew. - - “Rain-wet pinks as sweet as spice, - Lilies white as snow and ice, - Lemon-colored lilies, too, - And the flax-flower’s lovely blue. - - “Strawberries sweet and red and small, - And the purple monkshood tall; - Let the moon-white daisies shine, - Bring the coral columbine. - - “Weave the shining buttercup, - Bind the sweet wild roses up; - Poppies, red as coals of fire, - And the speckled foxglove spire. - - “And the iris blue that gleams - Knee-deep in the foamy streams. - Bring the spruce cones brown and long.” - (Thus ran on Gustava’s song). - -[Illustration] - - “Make a wreath, I beg, - For my darling Egg!” - - “Make a wreath, I beg, - For Gustava’s Egg,” - -broke in Nanna the Goat impatiently: - - “Why leave the Geraniums out? - Add the Teapot’s broken spout, - Cheese, and brown potatoes, too; - Anything at all will do. - - “Feathers from the feather bed, - Goran’s mittens, warm and red, - And the flower the Queen holds up, - And the cracked blue china cup. - - “But the Queen has said - _Kindly leave that bed!_” - -So Gustava had to flop off the bed with a squawk, while Goran handed her -her Egg, and then they put the poor Snowman, what was left of him, into -Grandmother’s bed, and pulled the eiderdown quilts over him. - -“If you please,” said the Snowman in a feeble whisper, “oh, if you -_please_, I’m——” - -“I know this is the right thing to do, because it is the way we always -treat Snowmen at the Palace,” broke in the Queen. To tell you the truth, -she had never seen a Snowman in her life before, but she would never -admit that she didn’t know all about everything. - -The Snowman looked at them with despairing sky-blue eyes, while his -tears poured down, soaking Grandmother’s pillow. He had tried -desperately to tell them something, but they would none of them listen. -Suddenly Goran knew what it was. - -“I believe we’re melting him,” said Goran. “He needs air.” - -“I need air,” said the Snowman, his face shining with hope. - -“_Air?_” said the Queen. “Nonsense! He’s had too much air. He needs a -hot brick at his feet!” - -“I need air,” faltered the Snowman. - -“_Air?_ Nonsense!” cried the fat Teapot and all her Teacup daughters, -hoping the Queen would hear, and take them back to the Palace with her. - -“I need air,” sighed the Snowman, and now he looked discouraged. - -“Air? Brrr-rrr!” And Mejau squeezed himself under the chest of drawers, -much annoyed with every one. - -“I need air,” breathed the Snowman, looking at Goran with imploring -eyes. - -“_Air?_ Mercy on us, that will mean opening the door again!” And the -Geraniums shivered in every leaf and petal. - -But Goran had helped the poor Snowman, now nearly melted away, out of -bed, and was leading him to the door. - -“I need——” whispered the Snowman, and his voice was so faint that Goran -could hardly hear it. - -And there, because he was melting away so fast, his mouth fell out and -lay on the floor, just a little bent twig. - -Poor Snowman! Oh, poor Snowman! He could not make a sound now—he could -only look at them, so sadly, so sadly! - -But a little Mouse peeping with bright eyes out of its hole saw what had -happened, and, since Mejau was nowhere in sight, ventured to squeak: - -“Oh, please, Ma’am! Oh, please, Sir! The poor gentleman’s mouth is lying -on the floor!” - -So the Queen picked it up and pressed it into place again, but by -mistake she put it on wrong side up, so that instead of a pleasant smile -the Snowman had the crossest mouth in the world, pulled far down at each -corner. - -And what a change it made in him! - -Before, his voice had been a gentle whisper—now it was an angry bellow -that made the Teacups shiver on their shelf and the Geraniums turn quite -pale, and the little Mouse dive back with a squeak into her hole, -thinking to herself: “Well, I _never_!” - -“Here, you!” shouted the Snowman. “Get me out of here, and get me out -quick. Hop along, my girl, and open the door! Your turn next!” (This was -to the astonished Queen.) “Now, then, carry me out!” - -“Tick! Tock! I’m feeling dreadfully run down,” said the old Clock. - - “Tick! Tock! - Wind the Clock! - Tock! Tick! - Wind it quick! - -[Illustration] - -“Tick—Tock——” and he stopped talking. - -The astonished Queen meekly threw open the door, and Goran carried the -Snowman into the snowy darkness. Brr-rr! It was bitter cold! - -“Now bring some snow and build me up,” the Snowman ordered. “Leave the -door open so that you can see—don’t dawdle!” - -The firelight from the open door shone on his blue glass eyes, and made -two angry red sparks gleam in them. Goran and the Queen, Gustava and -Nanna, scooped up handfuls and hoof-fuls and wing-fuls of newly fallen -snow, and patted it on to the Snowman until he stuck out his chest more -proudly than he had done in the first place, and he was so fat that he -looked as if he were wearing six white fur coats, one on top of another. -And all the time when he wasn’t frightening the Queen half out of her -wits by shouting: “Your turn next!” he kept muttering away to himself: - -“Melt me over the fire! Smother me in a feather bed! Put a hot brick at -my feet!” - -It was when Goran was patting a little fresh snow on the Snowman’s nose -that he accidentally knocked his twig mouth off again. And this time it -was put back right side up, so that the Snowman was as smiling as he had -been in the beginning. - -He stopped roaring. He stopped muttering. Did the fire die down? For the -red sparks no longer gleamed in his gentle sky-blue eyes. - -“Oh, thank you so much!” said the Snowman. “You have been so kind to me! -And I know that you were trying to help me in the house. Forgive me for -having been so cross! Will you please forgive me?” - -And the Snowman looked so anxiously at Goran and the Queen and Nanna and -Gustava that they all answered: - -“Yes, yes, of course we will! And will you please forgive _us_ for -nearly melting you?” - -“And now go in, for this lovely air is cold for you, I know.” - -“Oh, it is bitter cold!” agreed the Queen. “Brr-rrr! It is bitter cold.” - -Brr-rr! It was bitter cold! - - -Goran rubbed his eyes. Only a few red embers glowed in the fireplace. -How stiff he was! - -He must have slept in his chair all night, but he could not tell how -late it was, for the Clock had stopped. He had forgotten to wind it, he -remembered now. - -There sat the Queen in her chair, but she was just a little card again. - -Then he remembered the Snowman. He ran out of doors. - -There the Snowman stood, as roly-poly as ever, with his twig mouth -smiling and his sky-blue eyes wide open. He said nothing, but Goran felt -they two understood each other. - -What a night it had been! Could it all have been a dream? But now the -night was over, and the storm was over; and, best of all, through the -dim twilight he saw on the fjord far below him Neighbor Skylstad’s -rowboat, and seated in it, wrapped in her red shawl, his own dear -grandmother coming home to him. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: _The Dream Coach stopped at the Princess’s castle, then -by road of stars to Goran’s cottage in Norway next to the palace of the -little Emperor, lastly to the house in France where Phillipe visited his -Grandparents_] - - - - -[Illustration] - - A Bird Cage With tassels of Purple and Pearls - - -The Driver of the Dream Coach paused as he turned over the pages of the -great white and gold book in which are kept the names of all those who -have ridden or are to be given rides in the brightly painted Coach. - -“I see,” he said, addressing the little angels who helped him keep these -records, “I see the name of the Little Chinese Emperor. And there is a -cross opposite his name. Has he been naughty?” he asked. “Has he been -picking the sacred lotus flowers of his honorable ancestors? Has he——” - -“Oh, please,” interrupted one of the smallest angels, “I put that cross -there to remind me to tell you something about the Little Emperor. You -see he hasn’t been naughty—not exactly—but he’s made a mistake. He -doesn’t understand,” said the smallest angel, with his eyes round and -serious. - -“And can I help the Little Emperor understand?” asked the Driver of the -Dream Coach. - -“Of course you can!” cried the smallest angel, beaming brightly. “It’s -this way. The Little Chinese Emperor has a friend of mine fastened up in -a cage, where he is very sad——” - -“An angel in a cage?” asked the Driver. “I never heard of such a thing!” - -“Well, not exactly an angel, a——” - -But what it was, and how the Driver helped the little angel’s friend—— - -That you shall hear. - -[Illustration] - - -The Little Emperor was dreadfully bored. He yawned so that his round -little face, as round and yellow as a full moon, grew quite long, and -his nose wrinkled up into soft yellow creases, like cream that is being -pushed back by the skimmer from the top of a bowl of milk. His slanting -black eyes shut up tight, and when they opened they were so full of -tears that they sparkled like blackthorn berries wet with rain. - -“Oh, dear! Oh, dear!” cried his aunt, Princess Autumn Cloud. “The Little -Emperor is bored! What shall we do, oh, what shall we do to amuse him? -For when he is bored, he very soon grows naughty, and when he is -naughty—oh, _dear_!” - -[Illustration] - -And she began to cry. But then she was always crying. When she was born -her father and mother named her Bright Yellow Butterfly Floating In The -Sunshine, but she cried so much that by the time she was five years old -they saw that name wouldn’t do at all, and changed it to Autumn Cloud -Pouring Down Rain Upon The Sad Gray Sea. - -She cried about anything. If her Lady-In-Waiting brought her a bowl of -tea with honeysuckle blossoms in it, she would cry because they weren’t -jasmine flowers. If they were jasmine, she would cry because they -weren’t honeysuckle. When the peach trees bloomed she would cry because -that meant that spring had come, and that meant summer would soon -follow, and then autumn, and then the cold winter. “And oh, how cold the -wind will be then, and how fast the snow will fall!” sobbed Princess -Autumn Cloud, looking through her tears at the bright pink peach -blossoms. - -She cried because her sea-green jacket was embroidered with storks -instead of bamboo trees. - -She cried because they brought her shark-fin soup in a bowl of green -lacquer with a gold dragon twisting around it, instead of a red lacquer -bowl with a silver dragon. - -She cried if the weather was hot. - -She cried if the weather was cold. - -And hardest of all she cried whenever the Little Emperor was naughty. - -Whenever she began to cry a Lady-In-Waiting knelt in front of her and -caught her tears in a golden bowl, for it never would have done to let -them run down her cheeks, like an ordinary person’s tears; they would -have washed such deep roads through the thick white powder on her face. -Every morning Princess Autumn Cloud (and, indeed, every lady in the -Court of the Little Emperor) covered her face with honey in which white -jasmine petals had been crushed to make it smell sweet, then when she -was all sticky she put on powder until her face was as white as an egg. -Then she painted on very surprised-looking black eyebrows and a little -mouth as red and round as a blob of sealing wax. It looked just as if -her mouth were an important letter that had to be sealed up to keep all -sorts of secrets from escaping. Princess Autumn Cloud and Princess -Gentle Breeze and Lady Gleaming Dragon Fly and Lady Moon Seen Through -The Mist and all the rest of them would have thought it as shocking to -appear without paint and powder covering up their faces as they would -have thought it to appear without any clothes. - -So Princess Autumn Cloud leaned over as if she were making a deep bow, -and let her tears fall in a golden bowl, and then, because they were -Royal tears, they were poured into beautiful porcelain bottles that were -sealed up and placed, rows and rows and rows of them, in a room all hung -with silk curtains embroidered with weeping willows. - -“Oh, _what_ shall be done to amuse the Little Emperor?” sobbed Princess -Autumn Cloud. “Perhaps he would like some music!” And she clapped her -hands, with their long, long fingernails covered with gold fingernail -protectors. - -So four fat musicians, dressed in vermilion silk and wearing big -horn-rimmed spectacles to show how wise they were, came and kowtowed to -the Little Emperor. That is, they got down on their knees, which was -hard for them to do because they were so fat, and then, all together, -knocked their heads on the floor nine times apiece to show their deep -respect. - -Then one beat on a drum, boom boom, and one clashed cymbals of brass -together, crash _bang_, and one rang little bells of green and -milk-white jade, and the oldest and fattest beat with mallets up and -down the back of a musical instrument carved and painted to look like a -life-sized tiger with glaring eyes and sharp white teeth. - -The Little Emperor sprawled back in his big dragon throne under the -softly waving peacock feather fans, stretched out his arms and legs, and -yawned harder than ever. - -[Illustration: Four fat Chinese musicians.] - -“Oh! Oh! Oh! _What_ shall be done to amuse him?” wailed Princess Autumn -Cloud, bursting into tears afresh. “Can _no_ one suggest anything?” - -And although the Mandarins and the Court Ladies thought to themselves -that what they would really like to suggest for such a spoiled little -boy would be to send him to bed without his supper, they none of them -dared say so, but tried to look very solemn and sympathetic. - -“Would the Little Old Ancestor enjoy some sweetmeats?” suggested Lady -Lotus Blossom. “Old Ancestor” is what you call the Emperor if you are -properly brought up, _and_ polite, _and_ Chinese. - -So Gentlemen-In-Waiting came and kowtowed and offered the Little Emperor -lacquered boxes of crystallized ginger, of sugared sunflower seeds, and -of litchi nuts. But do you think he was interested? Not at all. He would -not even look at them. - -“The wind is blowing hard. Would it amuse the Little Old Ancestor to -watch the kites fly?” asked old Lord Mighty Swishing Dragon’s Tail. - -The Little Emperor didn’t know whether it would or not. However, he -couldn’t be more bored than he was already, so he climbed down from his -throne and went out into the windy autumn garden. - -First marched the musicians, beating on drums to let every one know that -the Emperor was coming. - -Then came the Court Ladies tottering along on their “golden lilies,” -which is what they call their tiny feet that have been bound up tightly -to keep them small ever since the ladies were babies. - -Then the Mandarins with their long pigtails and their padded silk coats -whose big sleeves held fans and tobacco and bags of betel nuts and -sheets of pale green and vermilion writing paper. - -Then Princess Autumn Cloud in a jade green gown embroidered with a -hundred lilac butterflies, a lilac jacket, and pale rose-colored -trousers tied with lilac ribbons. In her ears, around her arms, and on -her fingers were jade and pearls, and her rose-colored shoes were -trimmed with tassels of pearls and were so tiny that she could hardly -hobble. In her shiny black hair she wore on one side a big peony, the -petals made of mother-of-pearl and the leaves of jade. Each petal and -leaf was on a fine wire so that when she moved her head they trembled as -real flowers do when the wind blows over them. On the other side were -two jade butterflies that trembled too. In front of her, walking -backward, went her Lady-In-Waiting holding the golden tear bowl, in case -the Princess should suddenly begin to cry. - -And last of all, surrounded by his Gentlemen-In-Waiting, came the Little -Emperor, dressed from head to foot in yellow, the Imperial color, so -that he looked like a yellow baby duckling. And as he came every one in -the Palace and in the Garden had to stop whatever they were -doing—gossiping, teasing the Royal monkeys, chewing betel nuts, or -sweeping up dead leaves—and kneel down and knock their heads on the -ground until he had passed. - -How the wind was blowing! It sent the willow branches streaming, it -wrinkled the lake water and turned the lotus leaves wrong side out, it -scattered the petals of the chrysanthemums. It tossed the kites high in -the air. How brightly their colors shone against the gray sky! Some were -made to look like pink and yellow melons with trailing leaves, some were -like warriors in vermilion, some were golden fish, others were black -bats, and the biggest one of all was a great blue-green dragon. - -As for the Little Emperor, he took one look at them and then yawned so -hard that they were afraid he would dislocate his jaw. - -A little brown bird the color of a dead leaf had been hopping about on -the ground under the chrysanthemums looking for something for its -supper, and now suddenly flew up into a willow tree and began to sing. - - -The Little Emperor clapped his hands, and all his servants dropped on -their knees and began to kowtow. - -“Catch me that little brown bird with the beautiful song!” he said. He -stopped yawning, and his eyes grew bright with eagerness. - -“But, Little Old Ancestor, that is such a plain little bird,” said his -aunt timidly. “Surely you would rather have a cockatoo as pink as a -cloud at dawn, or a pair of lovebirds as green as leaves in spring——” - -The rude Little Emperor paid not the slightest attention to her, but -stamped his foot and shouted: - -“_Catch me that little brown bird!_” - -So his servants chased the poor little fluttering bird with butterfly -nets. The wind whipped their bright silk skirts, and their pigtails -streamed out behind, and they puffed and panted, for they were most of -them very fat. - -[Illustration: His servants chased the bird with butterfly nets.] - -And at last the bird was caught, and put in a cage trimmed with tassels -of purple silk and pearls, with drinking cup and seed cup made like the -halves of plums from purple amethysts on brown amber twigs with green -jade leaves. - -For a time the Little Emperor was delighted with his new pet, and every -day he carried it in its cage when he went for a walk. But it never -sang, only beat against the bars of its cage, or huddled on its perch, -so presently he grew tired of it, and it was hung up in its cage in a -dark corner of one of the Palace rooms, where he soon forgot all about -it. - - -How could the little bird sing? It was sick for the wide blue roads of -the air, for wet green rice fields where the coolies stand with bare -legs, sky-blue shirts, and bamboo hats as big as umbrellas, for the -yellow rivers, and the mountains bright with red lilies. How could it -sing in a cage? But sometimes it tried to cry to them: “Let me out! -Please, _please_ let me out! I have never done anything to harm you! I -am so unhappy I think my heart is breaking! _Please_ let me go free!” - -“What a sweet song!” everybody would say. “Run and tell the Little -Emperor that his bird is singing again.” - -After a while the little bird realized that they did not understand, and -it tried no longer, but drooped, dull-eyed and silent, in its cage. - - -One night the Little Emperor had a dream. Perhaps you won’t wonder when -I tell you what he had for supper. - -First he had tea in a bowl of jade as round and white as the moon, -heaped up with honeysuckle flowers. - -Then, in yellow lacquer boxes, sugared seeds, sunflower and lotus flower -and watermelon seeds, boiled walnuts, and lotus buds. - -Then velvety golden peaches and purple plums with a bloom of silver on -them. - -Pork cooked in eleven different ways: chopped, cold, with red beans and -with white beans, with bamboo shoots, with onions, and with cherries, -with eggs, with mushrooms, with cabbage, and with turnips. - -Ducks and chickens stuffed with pine needles and roasted. - -Smoked fish. - -Shrimps and crabs, fried together. - -Shark fins. - -Boiled birds’ nests. - -Porridge of tiny yellow seeds like bird seed. - -Cakes in the shapes of seashells, fish, dragons, butterflies, and -flowers. - -Chrysanthemum soup, steaming in a yellow bowl with a green dragon -twisting around it. - -Not one other thing did that poor Little Emperor have for his supper! - -When he was so full that he couldn’t hold anything more, not even one -sugared watermelon seed, they took off his silk napkin embroidered with -little brown monkeys eating pink and orange persimmons. He was so sleepy -that he did not even stamp his feet when they washed his face and hands. -Then they took off his red silk gown embroidered with gold dragons and -blue clouds and lined with soft gray fur, his yellow silk shirt and his -red satin shoes with their thick white soles. But he went to bed in his -pale yellow pantaloons, tied around the ankles with rose-colored -ribbons. - -I must tell you about his bed. It was made of brick, and inside of it a -small fire was built to keep the Little Emperor warm. On top of this -three yellow silk mattresses were placed, then silk sheets, red, yellow, -green, blue, and violet, then a coverlet of yellow satin embroidered -with stars. Under his head were pillows stuffed with tea leaves; and -above him was a canopy of yellow silk, embroidered with a great round -moon whose golden rays streamed down the yellow silk curtains drawn -around him. - - -He fell asleep, and this is what he dreamed. - -The long golden rays seemed to turn into the bars of a cage. Yes, he was -in a huge cage! He tried frantically to get out! He beat against the -bars! Then he saw what looked like the roots of trees, and brown tree -trunks, a grove all around the cage. But the trees moved and stepped -about, and, looking up the trunks, instead of leaves he saw feathers, -and still farther, sharp beaks, and then bright eyes looking at him. -They were birds! - -What he had thought were the roots of trees were their claws, and the -trunks of the trees were their legs. But what enormous birds! They were -as big as men, while he was as small as a bird. - -“Let me out!” he shouted. “Don’t you know I am the Emperor, and every -one must obey me? Let me out, I say!” - -“Ah, he is beginning to sing,” said one bird to another. - -“Not a very musical song. Too shrill by far! Take my advice, wring his -neck and roast him. He would make a tender, juicy morsel for our -supper.” - -[Illustration: “Please, _please_ let me out!”] - -“Oh, let me out! Please, _please_ let me out!” cried the poor Little -Emperor in terror. - -“He is singing more sweetly now,” remarked one of the birds. - -“Too loud! Quite ear-splitting!” said a lady bird, fluffing out her -breast feathers and lifting her wings to show how sensitive she was. - -“If he were mine I should pluck him. His little yellow silk trousers -would line my nest so softly.” - -“Oh, please, _please_ set me free!” - -“Really, his song is growing quite charming! But one can’t stand -listening to it all day.” - -And with a great whir and flap and rustle of wings the birds flew away -and left him in his cage, alone. - -He called for help and threw himself against the bars until he was -exhausted. Then bruised, panting, his heart nearly breaking out of his -body, he lay on the floor of the cage. Finally, growing hungry and -thirsty, he looked in his seed and water cups, drank a little lukewarm -water, and ate a dry bread crumb. Now and then birds came and looked at -him. Some of them tried to catch his pigtail with their beaks or claws. - - -Next day the Little Emperor was thoughtful. Could it be, he wondered, -that a little bird’s nest was as dear to it as his own bed with its -rainbow coverlets and its moon and stars was to him? That a little bird -liked ripe berries and cold brook water as much as he liked ripe peaches -and tea with jasmine flowers? That a little bird was as frightened when -he tried to catch its tail in his fingers as he was when the birds tried -to catch his pigtail? - -And then he thought of how he had felt when the lady bird had wanted his -pantaloons to line her nest, and, hot with shame, he remembered his -glistening jewel-bright blue cloak made of thousands of kingfishers’ -feathers. It had made him miserable to think of their taking his -clothes, but suppose his clothes grew on him as their feathers did on -them? How would he have felt then, hearing the bird say: “_I_ should -pluck him. His little silk trousers would line my nest so softly”? - -He went to bed thinking about his little brown bird, and before he shut -his eyes he made up his mind to set it free in the morning. - - -Then he fell asleep, and once again he dreamed that he was in the golden -cage. - -Whir-rr! One of the great birds flew down by the cage door. With his -claw he unfastened it—opened it! - -Oh, how exciting! The Little Emperor tore out, so afraid he would be -stopped and put back in the cage! - -Oh, how he ran across the room and through the open door! Free! He was -free! Tears rushed to his eyes, and his heart felt as if it would burst -with happiness. - -But it was winter. The garden was deep in snow that was falling as if it -would never stop. The peaches and plums were gone, and the lotus pond -was frozen hard as stone. - -[Illustration] - -The Little Emperor had never been out in the snow before except when he -was dressed in his warm padded clothes, with one Gentleman-In-Waiting -carrying his porcelain stove, and another bringing tea, and a third with -cakes in a box of yellow lacquer, and a fourth holding between the -snowflakes and the Imperial head a great, moss-green umbrella. So small -and helpless in so big and cold a world, what could a little boy find to -eat or drink? Where could he warm himself? He ran frantically through -the snow. The rose-colored ribbons that tied his pantaloons came untied -and trailed behind him, and the cold snow went up his bare legs. - -Pausing to catch his sobbing breath, he looked up to see the thick snow -sliding from a pine tree branch, and jumped aside just in time to keep -from being buried beneath it. Then on he plunged again, growing with -each step more weak and cold and hungry; stopping now and then to call -for help in a quavering voice that grew feebler every time; blinking -back the tears that froze on his lashes as he tried to remember that -emperors must never cry; then struggling on through the blinding snow, a -little boy lost and alone. - -Then, as it began to grow dark, he saw two great lanterns shining -through the snow, coming slowly nearer. Perhaps his aunt and his Chief -Gentleman-In-Waiting, Lord Mighty Swishing Dragon’s Tail (Lord Dragon -Tail, for short) had missed him and had come with lanterns to look for -him! He tried to go toward them, to call, but he was too exhausted to -move or make a sound. - -And then, imagine his terror when he realized that the glowing green -lights were not lanterns at all, but the eyes of a great crouching -animal—a cat! - -Gathering all his strength for one last desperate effort, he tried to -run. But with a leap the cat was after him, and with a paw now rolled -into a velvet ball, now unsheathing sharp curved claws, tapped him first -on one side, then on the other, nearly let him go, caught him again with -one bound, and with a harder blow sent him spinning into stars and -darkness. - - -Some one was shaking him. Was it the cat? The Little Emperor opened his -eyes and saw the frightened face of Princess Autumn Cloud bending over -him, as yellow as a lemon, for she had jumped up out of bed when she -heard him cry out in his sleep, and there hadn’t been time to put on the -honey and the powder, to paint on the surprised black eyebrows or the -round red mouth. - -“Wake up, wake up, Little Old Ancestor!” she was crying as she shook -him. “You’re having a bad dream!” - -“Aren’t you the cat?” asked the Little Emperor, who wasn’t really awake -yet. - -“Certainly _not_, Little Old Ancestor!” replied his aunt, rather -offended. - -The Little Emperor climbed out of his bed. The room was full of the -still white light that comes from snow, and looking out of the window he -saw that the plum trees and the cherry trees looked as if they had -blossomed in the night, the snow lay so white and light on every twig. -Softly the snow fell, deep, deep it lay, and the people who passed by -his windows went as silently as though they were shod in white velvet. - -The Little Emperor thought of his dream, and decided that his little -bird might suffer and die if he let it go free before winter was over. -But he explained to the bird, and tried to make it happier. - -“When summer comes, you shall fly away into the sky,” he told it. He -brought it fruit and green leaves to peck at, talking to it gently. And -the little bird seemed to understand. The dull eyes grew brighter; and -though it never sang it sometimes chirped as if it were trying to say: -“Thank you.” - - -On the first night of summer when the moon lay like a great round pearl -in the deep blue sea of the sky, the Little Emperor slept, and dreamed -again that the cage door opened for him and let him go free. But oh, -what happiness now, happiness almost too great for a little boy to bear. - -Peonies were in bloom, each petal like a big seashell, and blue -butterflies floated over them in the warm sunshine. Half hidden in the -grass the Little Emperor found a great purple fruit—a mulberry. How good -it was! - -The dewy spider webs glistened like the great tinsel Bridge to Heaven -they built for him on every birthday. How happy he was! How happy! Free -and safe! With the sun to warm him and the breeze to cool him; with food -tumbling down from Heaven or the mulberry trees, he wasn’t sure which, -with a crystal clear dewdrop to drink on every blade of grass. How happy -he was! - -The lake was full of great rustling leaves and big pink lotus flowers. -Venturing out on one of the leaves, he paddled his feet over its edge in -the gently lapping water. Then, climbing into one of the pink blossoms, -he lay, so happy, so happy, looking up at the blue-green dragon flies -darting overhead, and rocking gently in his rosy boat. - -No, it was not the lotus flower that rocked him on the water. It was -Princess Autumn Cloud who was gently shaking him, and saying: “Wake up, -if you please, dear Little Old Ancestor!” And hard as it is to believe, -she was really smiling. The Little Emperor had been so good lately, and -then it was such a beautiful day! - -He could not wait until after breakfast to let his little brown bird go -free. As soon as he was dressed he ran as fast as he could to the room -where the bird cage hung. Pat-a-pat-pat went his little feet in their -blue satin shoes, and thud, thud! puff, puff! his fat old -Gentlemen-In-Waiting lumbered along behind him. - -“I’ve come to set you free!” he whispered, as he carried the cage with -its tassels of purple and pearls out into the beautiful day. For one -minute he wanted to cry, for he had grown to love the little bird. But -he remembered again that emperors must not cry. He opened the door of -the cage. - -“Little Old Ancestor’s bird has flown away!” cried the Mandarins. - -“It has flown so high in the sky that we can hardly see it,” the Court -Ladies answered; and they all wished that the Little Emperor would stop -gazing up into the sky at the little dark speck, so that they might go -in and have their breakfasts. - -But the Little Emperor, the empty bird cage in his hand, still looked -up. High, high in the sky! And now, really, he could no longer see it. -But a thread of song dropped down to him, a silver thread of song, a -golden thread of love between the hearts of a little bird and a little -boy. - -“Thank you, oh, thank you, my Little Emperor!” - - - - -[Illustration] - - “King” Philippe’s Dream - - -Up into the sky rose the hundred horses and their great Coach, until the -roof of the Little Emperor’s Palace with its bright yellow tiles looked -only as big as a yellow autumn leaf—as a jasmine petal—as nothing at -all! And along the Road of Stars they galloped, while notes of music -sprayed from the wheels of the Coach, and, dropping to earth, gave the -nightingales ideas for beautiful new songs. - -On through the sky and above the earth until the night was over, and at -last, instead of a road, the hundred horses were galloping along a -river. All along the river bank tall poplars rustled and whispered in -the wind of the Coach’s passing, and little waves, stirred up by the -horses’ hoofs, slapped against the small houses that rose from the -water, small pink houses and blue houses and white red-roofed houses, -each with its rowboat tied to its steps. White swans and green ducks -rocked on the ripples, their feathers gilded by sunshine, for it was -bright day now, and the rain that had been pouring down had stopped. It -was bright day, and yet no one saw the Dream Coach except a little -French boy, whose eyes were falling shut in one little pink cottage. - -“Philippe! Philippe!” the Driver called. “One last dream is left for -you!” - -What was Philippe’s dream? - -That you shall hear. - -[Illustration] - - -“Hold still then, my little monkey!” - -“But mother,” wailed Philippe, “I have the soap in my eye!” - -“Soap is it, my angel?” asked his mother, lifting his face in her two -wet hands. “Oh, but there is really no soap at all to speak about, just -a bubble or two of suds. _There!_” and with the corner of her apron she -wiped away the thick white lather around his eyelashes, so that Philippe -looked like a little boy made of snow, except for his eyes which were -large and brown and filled with tears from the painful smarting. From -head to ankles he was covered with a froth of soapsuds, and his feet had -stirred the warm water in the bottom of the wooden tub into -rainbow-tinted mounds of bubbles which grew and grew and cascaded over -the sides with a tiny fizzing sound. - -“You are giving our young one a very thorough tubbing,” remarked -Philippe’s father. He was sitting under the narrow window of their -cottage, cutting the yellow-white sprouts from a bag of potatoes which -he intended to plant in the dark of the next moon. - -“Indeed I am. I shall scrub and rub and polish until he looks like a wax -image, or as pink and shining as the inside of the seashell his Uncle -Pablôt sent him from Paimpol.” - -Philippe’s father held a large brown potato at arm’s length, and, -regarding it with his head cocked to one side, said: “Very fine! Yes, -very fine!” - -“A good size,” agreed his wife, looking over her shoulder, while she -absently bored into the ear of her long-suffering son with a bit of -soapy rag. - -“Yes—but I was thinking rather of Philippe’s Uncle Pablôt. It is he who -is very fine, a grand gentleman who carries a gold-headed cane and has -traveled far—to the very borders of our beloved France, and even beyond, -so I hear.” - -“Oh, very much beyond! He has been in every country in the world, -according to the wonderful stories he tells, and the world, Pierre, I -understand to be of a tremendous bigness; indeed, if what I am told is -the truth, it must be three or four times as big as our own country!” - -“Is that so?” replied Pierre doubtfully, starting to cut the pallid -sprouts again with quick motions of his work-hardened hands. “It may all -be the truth, my good wife, but I have always taken the words of Pablôt -with a grain of salt; I think, for that matter, that he is a little -inclined to blow.” - -“‘Blow’?” asked Philippe from his tub. “I thought it was only the wind -that could blow.” - -But of course no one answered him, for he was only a little boy, and not -expected to understand; instead, his father bent over his bag of -potatoes to hide his smile, and his mother remembered that the -_pot-au-feu_ (which is a thick soup made of odds and ends and bits and -scraps and almost everything you can think of mixed with water in a -large pot and left on the fire to bubble sluggishly for many hours) -needed stirring right away. - -“Take care,” warned her husband, “that you do not drop soap into the -soup from your wet hands, for I know of nothing that gives it a more -curious flavor.” - -“Just the same,” said Philippe’s mother, turning from the hearth, her -cheeks flushed rosy red by the bright, hot embers, “just the same, it is -a good thing that our little one should be invited to meet such a fine -gentleman. It will teach him how to say the most ordinary thing -elegantly, and how to carry his head high as if he were a born dandy. -Philippe, repeat to your father the little speech you are to say when -you meet your uncle.” - -“Good health to you, my dear and illustrated uncle! It gives——” - -“No, no, my pet, ‘my dear and _illustrious_ uncle,’ and was there not -something that you forgot?” - -“Yes, Mother. I forgot to make my bow. Shall I make a new beginning?” - -“Do so.” - -Whereupon Philippe bent nearly double over the edge of the tub, -scattering drops of water upon the floor. - -“Good health to you, my dear and illustrious uncle. It gives me the most -great pleasure to have—_eugh!_ soap in my mouth.... _Ptu!_——” - -“Wait, then, until you are dressed in the new suit I have sewn for you,” -and his mother, taking an earthen jar of water from the side of the fire -where it had been put to warm, poured it over his head, leaving him no -longer a snow boy, but a boy made of the shiniest china you can imagine. -“Is that pleasant, my brave one?” - -“It is warm, like rain,” said Philippe, lifting his arms above his head. -“I will not need another washing for a long, long time, will I, Mother?” - - -Philippe’s grandparents lived the distance of twelve fields, a small -woods, three stiles, and the width of a brook from his own home. Just -how far that is, is hard to say. You see it makes such a difference whom -you ask. Ask the swallows and they will tell you airily that it is no -distance at all, just a flick of the wing, and you are there. But ask -the snails who live under the broad leaves of the flowering mulleins, -and after pondering a long time, they will tell you that it gives them a -headache to think of such a tremendous distance, that it would surely -take several lifetimes to travel so far, and as for themselves, they -would consider it very foolish to start out on such a dangerous -adventure when there were plenty of young lettuces so close at hand! To -a small boy of eight, it was quite a long journey, taken alone, -particularly when he could not take the short cut by wriggling through -the tangled copse for fear of tearing his new suit, or being covered -with last year’s burrs and barbed seeds of the undergrowth. But he -reached his Grandparents’ house at last. - -It was a little house built by the side of a river, actually touching -the water on one side, so that you could step out of a door, down a -step, and into a rowboat. And there were white swans and yellow-breasted -ducks with bronze-green backs swimming in the reflection of the pink -walls. On the land side was a poplar tree, very tall and dressed in -silvery blue leaves, standing erect like a giant soldier on guard before -a toy house. Once Philippe’s Grandfather had explained to him how he -could tell the time of day by the shadow this tree cast: when it struck -across the chimney at the corner of the house, it was time to go into -the fields; when it crossed the front door, it was time to enter therein -for the midday meal, and when it pointed out toward the fields, that was -a signal for Grandmother to ring the great bell that would call the -workers home. - -“And what,” Philippe had asked, “do you do, Grandfather, when the sun is -under the clouds, and there is no shadow to tell the time?” - -“Well, then we must needs look at the clock which ticks on the -mantelshelf over the fire,” Grandfather said with a twinkle of his old, -blue eyes, eyes half hidden by the tufts of white eyebrows. - -Although the day had commenced unusually fine, and the calm, blue sea of -sky had been without an island reef or bar of cloud to wreck the golden -galleon of the sun, by the time Philippe had been tubbed, scrubbed, -dressed in his best, had been rehearsed in his address to his uncle, -kissed good-by, and given a little nosegay of pansies and lilies of the -valley in a paper twist for his Grandmother, and had crossed the twelve -fields and picked his way carefully through the woods to avoid the sharp -brambles that reached out after him with long and sinuous arms—by the -time all this had come to pass, and Philippe was actually in sight of -his grandparents’ cottage, it began to rain from a sky as heavily gray -as it had been brightly blue before. It started so suddenly that -Philippe had to run across the last field to keep the big drops from -ruining his new black velvet cap. - -The inside of the house was very dark, with only two windows, like -half-closed eyes, looking out on the world. Through these windows -entered shafts of pale, watery light that cut blue paths in the wreaths -of wood smoke creeping around the rafters. Pots, pans, and kettles of -burnished copper hung from hooks in the ceiling, and mirrored in tiny -points the flames leaping on the hearth. It was like another world, -small but complete, inside Grandmother’s and Grandfather’s house: the -floor was the earth itself, trampled until it was as hard as brick, the -wreaths of smoke were thin clouds flung across a dark sky where yellow -and red stars winked and twinkled. At one end of the room, where -Grandmother and Anjou, the cat, were busy preparing dinner over the -bright fire, it was gay and warm: _Day_; but at the farther end, where -Grandfather sat stroking his long white beard, it was dark and chilly: -_Night_. - -When Philippe entered, he had to blink his eyes for some time before he -could adjust himself to the darkness. Then he handed his Grandmother the -bouquet he had carried so carefully, politely wishing her health and -happiness. - -There were tears in Grandmother’s eyes as she bent over and kissed her -Grandson’s pink and shining cheek, but then there were always tears in -Grandmother’s eyes—why, Philippe never could understand. Did she weep -because of the stinging smoke that the chimney seemed too small to carry -off? Or because she was sad? Not sad, thought Philippe, or Grandmother -would not be all the time smiling. - -“Hey-O!” sang Grandmother in her high little voice, dropping a tear in -the yellow heart of a purple pansy. “What pretty flowers you have -brought me, my Philippe, and see, here is a raindrop in one of them -shining as prettily as a glass bead!” - -Philippe did not like to tell her that it was her own tear. - -“Then it is raining out?” she asked. “It will make a wet home-coming for -your uncle, but it is lovely, nevertheless, and if it comes down hard -enough, it will make the river flow along more happily than it has for a -long day. Won’t that be beautiful, Philippe?” - -“Yes, Grandmother Marianne,” Philippe agreed politely, and then asked: -“When will my Uncle Pablôt be here? Mother has taught me what to say -when I make my bow to him, and if he is too long in coming, I am afraid -that I may forget it.” - -“He will come,” said Grandmother, “when he has a mind to.” - -“And is he coming from a great distance, maybe all the way from Paris?” -(Philippe thought that Paris was the only city in the world, built on -the world’s very edge.) - -“Maybe, and then maybe not,” Grandmother told him. “There is no telling -where your uncle will come from; he is apt to blow in from any quarter.” - -“Ah, then that explains it!” remarked Philippe innocently. “Father said -he always thought Uncle Pablôt was a little inclined to blow.” - -“Now did he!” Grandmother was frowning and smiling at one and the same -time. “Have you spoken to your Grandfather yet?” - -“I did not know that Grandfather Joseph was home; I did not see him,” -said Philippe truthfully. - -“Use your young eyes sharply and look into every corner,” advised -Grandmother. “Anjou!” she cried warningly, “you will burn your nose if -you get too close to that roasting duck.” - -Philippe gazed into the farthest corner of the room where he saw two dim -spots of white glowing like snow in the night; he had to advance quite -near before he could be sure that what he saw was the long white hair -and the long white beard of Grandfather. - -“Good day, Grandfather Joseph,” said Philippe, bowing low before the old -man who sat huddled in a chair, the arms of which were worn shiny by the -grip of thin fingers. - -“‘Good day’? A very _bad_ day, Grandson. Though I no longer hear nor see -as I used to, I can feel that it is raining. Tell me, is it raining?” - -“Yes, Grandfather,” replied Philippe from the top of a churn where he -had climbed to look out of the small window at the river. “It is falling -so hard that the raindrops are bouncing from the surface of the water.” -Remembering what his Grandmother had told him, he added, “It will make -the river flow along more happily than it has for a long time, and that -will be very beautiful!” - -“_Horrible!_” said Grandfather with a sigh that was almost too soft to -be heard. “It makes me feel weak clear through,” he continued. “Give me -the sharp cold and the sparkling frost when the river freezes so hard -that it cracks and roars like a cannon. When I was a boy, I used to -spread my cape and let the wind push me across the slippery ice—— This -soft weather will be the end of me!” - -There were three people living in the house that Philippe visited; -besides Grandmother and Grandfather, there was little Avril, their -grandniece, and therefore Philippe’s cousin. Avril was a child of tender -beauty, younger than Philippe, quite a baby in the sight of eyes that -were eight long years old. Avril was very shy, so shy that she had -hidden under the table when Philippe had entered the door, and it was -not until he had paid his respects to Grandmother and Grandfather that -he saw her there, peeking out at him like a flower from the dark shadow -of a garden wall. “Hello, my little cousin,” said Philippe with a grand -and grown-up air. “Would you like to play a very important game with me -that I have just thought of?” - -Avril laughed her pleasure. - -It was a most excellent game, so Philippe thought. He was King, -enthroned on the churn, and Avril was his slave, and had to bring him -anything he might request, with the penalty of having her head chopped -off if she failed. King Philippe had just commanded the brightest star -in the heavens to be brought him, when there was all at once a loud -rapping and rattling of the wooden latch. The door flew open before -anyone had time to answer, and a gust of chilly wind swept through the -room, breaking the weaving rings of smoke, making the fire leap up the -chimney, causing Grandmother in her excitement to drop the wooden spoon -into the pudding, and even waving Grandfather’s beard like a white flag. - -“_Behold!_ I am here!” cried Uncle Pablôt from the threshold, -withdrawing his right arm from the voluminous folds of his cape and -making a magnificent sweeping gesture ending with his fingertips being -pressed lightly against his expanded chest. - -“So I see,” said Grandfather in a thin, complaining voice from his dark -corner. “Close the door,” he pleaded, tucking the end of his waving -beard into his blue smock. “Close the door—the rain makes me feel very -weak——” - -But no one paid the least bit of attention to him. Grandmother ran -forward with squeaking noises of delight, throwing her arms around the -newcomer, draping him with a link of sausage, which she had forgotten to -put down in her hurry, in the manner of a necklace. Avril shyly -retreated beneath the table again, and Philippe tried desperately to -remember the pretty sentences with which he was to address the great -man. He was in the very middle of trying to remember when his -Grandmother took him by the hand. - -“And here is your little nephew,” said Grandmother, “who has come all by -himself a great distance to welcome you.” - -Philippe stared dumbly, wishing that he had had the presence of mind to -slip under the table with Avril. - -“_Come!_ What do you say to your uncle, Philippe?” asked Grandmother. - -“I forget what I say,” answered Philippe miserably, “but I am very glad -to see you, my—my——Ah! Now it comes to me!” And he started again: “Good -health to you, my dear and illustrious uncle. It gives me the most——” - -“Fiddlesticks!” interposed Uncle Pablôt, laughing. - -“—the most great pleasure to welcome you, and——” - -“Yes, yes—” said Uncle Pablôt, cutting him short again. “But what do you -say to this?” and he reached into the folds of his cape and handed -Philippe something small and shining. - -“What is it?” asked Philippe. - -“Ho! That is better. At least you did not learn that by heart, did you, -my boy? Here, I will show you.” Whereupon he put the bright present to -his lips and blew a shrill blast that rattled the pots and made -Grandmother drop her sausages in alarm. (She dusted them very carefully -before putting them in the hot pan that was waiting to cook them.) - -“A _whistle_!” shouted Philippe, dancing with joy. Then he ducked under -the table to show his beautiful new present to Avril. - -“And here is a present for the other little one,” said Uncle Pablôt, -handing the shyly smiling girl a toy spade with a bright green handle -and a wreath of early spring flowers painted on the tiny blade. - -[Illustration] - -What a feast they had in honor of their distinguished guest! - -“I suppose,” said Grandmother to Uncle Pablôt, “that you have traveled a -great distance since last you visited us?” - -“Yes, yes,” said Uncle Pablôt, flourishing the wing of a duck. “I have -breezed about a bit, here, there, and everywhere. Would you like to hear -a little about my travels?” - -“Oh, _please_!” begged Philippe, although the question had not been -addressed to him. - -“Now there is India,” commenced Uncle Pablôt, “a very hot country, but -as gay as a circus——” And over the roast duck he told them many things -in his soft and flowing voice, of elephants, their enormous bodies -painted brilliantly in curlicues, circles, and zigzags, swaying through -narrow streets like clumsy ships of the land, ridden by dark-skinned -potentates robed in ivory satin and scarlet brocades, wearing precious -jewels more sparkling than broken bits of colored glass ... of softly -stepping and treacherous tigers prowling in deep jungles, of lions and -leopards, crouching panthers and laughing hyenas and all manner of -beasts ... of birds with emerald crests, sapphire wings, breasts of -flaming orange, long, sweeping tails and screaming falsetto voices that -seemed to shatter the air into sharp and hurtling splinters ... of -gorilla fathers with so terrible a power in their long arms that they -could uproot a tree as easily as one would pick a dandelion, and gorilla -mothers holding babies to their breasts as gently and lovingly as any -human mothers ... of chattering pink monkeys shouting in derisive -laughter from their hiding places in the tree tops at passers-by. -Leaving the wildness of the tropic forests, he told them of queer-shaped -temples and pagodas, lifting to the blue of the sky, made of stone -carved as beautifully as lace, where lived the leering and laughing gods -of the heathen. - -By the time Grandmother had put the crisp green lettuces on the table, -Uncle Pablôt had carried his little audience to far-away China and, -without so much as a “by your leave,” into the gardens of mandarins and -emperors where jasmine filled the air with sweetness, and rose and white -peonies bowed their heavy heads around the lily ponds. Far away and far -away they flew on Uncle Pablôt’s winged words: over snowy mountains -tinted with the pink and lavender radiance of the dawn, through the -fiery furnace of desert sands where haughty camels plodded their weary -course to the beat of Arab drum and the mystical rhythm of Arab song, up -broad rivers where crocodiles basked in the sun ... past cities with -towers and turrets, through the courtyards of palace and castle, into -the riot of crowded markets with their laughter and shouting, buying and -selling, into a land where the streets were water, where the buildings -had wings that turned and turned, where the men and boys wore tight -little jackets of velvet fastened with brass buttons, and trousers as -big as two sacks sewn together. “Oh, yes,” said Uncle Pablôt, “and they -all wear wooden shoes so that they can walk safely across the streets of -water without sinking.” - -“Remarkable!” said Grandmother. - -“If true,” said Grandfather, but he spoke so low that every one thought -that he was merely choking, and paid no attention to him. - -“More!” pleaded Philippe. - -[Illustration] - -“And I was in England the other day,” continued Uncle Pablôt, who needed -little urging, “where I visited the Royal Family. That is nothing,” he -said, in answer to a look of proud astonishment from Grandmother. “I -have a great many acquaintances in all walks of life. Once I mussed up -the hair of a prince and ran off with the parasol of a duchess, just by -way of a little joke, you know. Did I ever tell you——” - -But if he ever had, he told them again, and at such length that, though -the dinner had come to an end, and Grandmother had cleared away the -dishes and given Anjou a saucer of milk and a bone, he was still telling -them this and other monstrous adventures in his quick, easy voice. How -thrilling it all was to Philippe. It seemed to him that the gay words -flew from his uncle’s mouth and over his head like flocks of wild birds. -Some of them were quite ordinary little words, as sparrows are ordinary -little birds, but others were long and strange like the queer birds his -uncle had told him about. Or again—this tale of other lands and peoples -was like music to which the crackling of the fire and the drip, drip of -the rain outside made a soothing accompaniment. He tried hard to keep -his eyes and ears wide open, but, to tell the truth, he had eaten very -heartily of Grandmother’s delicious dinner, and that, with the darkness -of the room, the lullaby singsong of his uncle’s voice, and the soft -purring of Anjou, made him heavy-headed and in danger of falling into -sleep at any moment. Voices came to him through the fog of smoke, -sounding far, far away. He heard his uncle say, “But you, Grandfather -Joseph, you should go about the world a bit and see for yourself these -wonderful things.” - -“I am content,” replied a soft, old voice. - -“Yes, you are content to stay where you are put, or at best to drift -around a bit, eh?” - -And then the old man saying, “I drift—I drift—I drift——” - - -Maybe it was then that Philippe went to sleep, or, on the other hand, -maybe it was then that Philippe overcame his drowsiness and woke up to a -new interest in things. Certainly, strange and exciting happenings took -place in rapid succession. - -It started with Grandmother going to the window where she stood on -tiptoe and looked out at the river. “Oh,” she cried, and her voice was -younger and happier than Philippe had ever heard it before. “Oh! The -river has grown up; never before have I seen my darling child so strong -and beautiful. And how he runs and laughs! In another minute he will be -at the sill of the window. I will open the door and invite him in.” - -“No, no!” cried Grandfather weakly, jumping up from the chair and -staring wildly about the room. “It will be the end of me.” - -“But think, Joseph, how my child will love it! He will splash and -laugh—why, even now I can see him creeping under the door in his -eagerness.” - -Without a word, gathering the baby Avril into his arms, Grandfather -dashed out of the other door; and they watched him running across the -fields and meadows, his white hair and beard flying back over his -shoulders in the mad speed of his flight. - -“Now there is a strange man,” Grandmother said to Uncle Pablôt. - -Pablôt only whistled softly and looked wise. - -“One would think,” continued Grandmother, “that he would be grateful for -a nice trip on the back of my child. He will come to my way of thinking -all in good time.” She looked around her critically. “The fire!” she -said. “How fiercely the fire is burning! It quite makes me boil with -anger; I won’t have it, I hate it!” and she ran upon it, scattering the -embers with a great hissing sound. “There now!” turning again to Pablôt. -“Do you think that the room is in readiness for my son? Shall I open the -floodgates and let him in?” - -“How about Anjou?” asked Uncle Pablôt. - -“Anjou can ride in his basket.” - -“And Philippe?” - -“The little cradle by the bed that Avril sleeps in—an excellent boat! -Jump in, Philippe, run and jump in, for we are going to make a voyage. -I—let me see—this tub will suit me nicely; I have a fondness for tubs; -and you, Pablôt, can run along the bank. Into your basket, Anjou, -_quick_! You look strangely unhappy, my pet. Are we all ready? _Enter, -my son!_” - -Grandmother unlatched the door facing on the river; it flew back against -the wall with a crash. What happened next was very confused in the mind -of the startled Philippe. There was a great, swishing roar as the water -of the river, swollen to unheard-of heights by the hard rain, leaped and -tumbled into the room in masses and billows of silver foam. Tightly he -clutched the rail of the crib as his strange boat tossed and turned and -ducked and pitched and bobbed and spun around and around in the currents -and cross currents and boiling waves. At last, when the water in the -room had reached the level of the water outside, and therefore had -suddenly quieted, he dared to look about him. Uncle Pablôt had -disappeared; Grandmother was calmly sitting in her tub with a rapturous -smile on her old face. “So impulsive!” she remarked conversationally to -Philippe. “My son, the River,” she explained. “He is so very glad to see -me. Did you notice how he jumped and romped when I let him in? It made -me very proud! But we must not waste our time floating idly here; there -is to be a very important reunion of my whole family.” And with that -they were caught in an eddying current and swept out of the door: Anjou, -with tail as erect as a mast; Philippe, wide-eyed and silent in his -cradle boat; and Grandmother in her wooden tub, pleased and proud, the -happy tears streaming down her cheeks. - -Once you get over being frightened, it is really great good fun, so -Philippe found, to go racing along a swift-flowing river in a little -boat that nods to each passing wave. They passed tall reeds and rushes -that waved gracefully to them from the shore, weeping willow trees, -their wands gray-green and crystal with rain, gently caressing the -surface of the water, emerald fields patterned with yellow flowers -shining wet, mallows by the River’s edge, white with glowing hearts of -deep pink, deep pink with hearts of white. - -Sometimes swiftly, sometimes slowly, but always and ever onward, -“Grandmother’s Son” carried them on his strong back; now through -lowlands, and now between high banks of dark chocolaty mud, where, from -the black portals of burrows and tunnels, the bright eyes of water -animals gazed at them in astonishment. Yes, it was thoroughly -delightful, but it was puzzling to Philippe; there were many things that -he did not understand. He decided that he would ask Grandmother, who was -floating close to him in her wooden tub. - -[Illustration: Grandmother in her wooden tub.] - -“Grandmother Marianne,” he called to her, “why do you call the river -your son?” - -“Look at me, Philippe. Have I not changed?” asked Grandmother. “I am no -longer Grandmother Marianne,” she said, “I am Grandmother Rain!... -Without me there would be no puddles, no pools, no lakes, no ponds, no -rills and runs and rivulets, no brooks and streams, no waterfalls, no -rivers—their lovely and happy voices would die from the land. They are -all my children. And if it were not for my children, there would be no -ocean.” - -“What is the ocean?” asked Philippe, who had never been to the seashore. - -“That, my Philippe,” said Grandmother Rain, “is where I was born, and -where all my children return. It is a beautiful place! And how your -uncle loves to play there—a decidedly worthy man, your uncle, though at -times a trifle flighty.” - -They passed a grove of trees, their bright branches reaching out over -the water. - -“How fresh and strong they look,” cried Grandmother Rain. “They are -always glad to see me, I can assure you. Oh, I have strange adventures, -Philippe. Sometimes I am buried in the soft, brown earth, and you would -think that would be the end of me, now wouldn’t you? But no! I creep -back into the air through trunks of trees, through blades of grass and -stalks of flowers, and through the shoots of young corn. I trickle -through an endless maze of underground passages into deep wells, or -until I find a place where I can come bubbling up to the surface. Every -living thing needs me and every living thing loves me, except sometimes -little boys kept in from play—eh?” - -Philippe felt guilty, and was about to apologize when Grandmother Rain -put him at rest. “That is not quite true. There are others,” she said, -“who do a good deal of complaining about me; they say that I am an old -spoil-sport just because I try to make myself pleasant at their parties -and picnics. But if I were to leave them forever——” she made an odd -little gesture of despair. “Would you like me to sing you a song?” she -asked unexpectedly. “It might serve to pass the time.” - -“Please,” said Philippe, who was getting a bit tired of floating -aimlessly and never arriving anywhere. - -“Very well.” And this is what she sang: - - - _GRANDMOTHER RAIN’S SONG_ - - _“Pitapat, pitapat, drip, drip, drip— - Pitapat, pitapat, slip, slip, slip, - Over roofs and windows, over garden walls, - Over fields and meadows—the gray rain falls!_ - - “I fall upon the countryside, upon the city square; - I tap the silk umbrellas that are opened everywhere; - I wash away the dirt and dust that cloud the flower’s face; - I fall on royal palaces, and in the market place—— - For no one is too regal, and no one is too low - To receive the crystal blessing that I scatter as I go. - I freshen up the thirsty world, and make it clean and green, - The grass grows tall, and flowers bloom wherever I have been. - Although I lie in gutters, and slip through hole and crack, - And sometimes have my little joke by running down your back, - I make small children happy, for on me they may float - Their shiny bright, their red and white, their little new toy boat. - So think not that because I fall like tears I may be sad: - The sparkle in each drop of me is proof that I am glad! - - “_Pitapat, pitapat, drip, drip, drip— - Pitapat, pita——_ - -“Ah! _There_ he comes!” cried Grandmother Rain excitedly, forgetting to -finish her song. - -“Who?” asked Philippe, curious, like most boys. - -“Who indeed?” replied Grandmother. “Look up the shore. Now we will have -some sport!” - -Philippe did as he was told, and saw a small figure hurrying toward them -at a great pace. As the figure drew nearer, he saw that it was Uncle -Pablôt, running along the edge of the water and stirring it to frenzy. - -“Hold tight!” warned Grandmother from her tub. - -Philippe needed no warning, for as Uncle Pablôt drew opposite to them, -waves broke the smooth surface of the river and tossed his little crib -about like a cockle shell. He could see, as he was twisted about, that -the rising waves were creeping over the edge of Grandmother Rain’s tub -and swamping it—it was sinking lower and lower. “Be careful, -Grandmother!” he cried frantically. - -“This is what I call delightful!” replied that remarkable woman, tipping -her tub until the water ran in and filled it with a deep gurgle. As she -sank into the river she clapped her hands, whereupon there was a -blinding flash and a peal of sharp thunder. A bigger wave than the rest -washed Philippe, cradle and all, upon the shore. He was too dazed to -understand for some moments just what had happened, but at length he -spied Grandmother, already at some distance, riding the waves and -swimming strongly with the current. - -“Now I shall be in high time for the reunion!” she called back to him, -the growing space between them making her voice very faint. - -Poor, dear Grandmother! Whatever would become of her? She would drown -most surely. But perhaps Uncle Pablôt, who had raced on down the bank, -could save her——But no! He was strolling back; he had given up. Philippe -ran to meet his uncle with tears in his eyes. - -“Hello! So there you are, safe and sound and high and dry, eh? You see, -I veered about; I thought we might take a little stroll together,” -explained Uncle Pablôt airily. - -“Save her!” pleaded Philippe tearfully. - -“Who? Grandmother Rain? Be calm, my boy, she is quite in her element.” - -“But unless we do something, the river will carry her far away!” - -“Which is exactly what she wishes. She will be back again, never worry. -She makes these little trips to the ocean quite frequently. Look, -Philippe, the sun is coming out! The sun and Grandmother Rain do not get -along well together; he always hides as soon as she has made her -appearance, and when she has gone, he goes about mopping up the whole -countryside.” - -Uncle Pablôt’s calmness gave Philippe some comfort. He was grown up, and -therefore wise; perhaps he knew the meaning of these strange things. “Do -they always disagree, Grandmother and the sun?” asked Philippe. - -“Not always. Sometimes, though rarely, you may see them together, and -then they hang a rainbow flag across the sky as a sign of their truce. -But come! We have much land to cover, we must hurry a little more.” - -“Where are we going, Uncle Pablôt?” - -“What a silly question! How am I to know? I go wherever it pleases me at -the moment, sometimes for days in one direction, and at other times this -way and that quicker than you can think. And please do not call me Uncle -Pablôt; I am your Uncle Wind.” - -Philippe felt rebuked; he trotted silently beside the tall, lean fellow, -thinking him a not very pleasant companion. He would gladly have walked -home alone, but he had no idea where he was, and he was afraid to be -left alone. At length his Uncle Wind spoke to him: - -“Do not think unkindly of me, little Philippe. If I was cross to you, it -is because I am given to complaining at times, but I am a good fellow at -heart. With Grandmother Rain’s help, I keep the world a nice clean place -to live in. And do you know, Philippe, the best part of it is that I am -such a humorous fellow; I am all the time playing the most amusing -jokes! Why—once I mussed up the hair of a prince and ran off with the -parasol of a duchess.... There now! I think I told you that once before, -didn’t I? But where and when it is quite past my ability to remember. -Well, that gives you the idea. Hats? There is nothing quite so much fun -as hats! Snatch a hat and run, drop it until its owner is just about to -pick it up, and then snatch and run again. There’s nothing that draws -such a large and appreciative audience as the hat trick. Though, of -course, umbrellas are great sport—but I need Grandmother Rain to help me -with that trick. Maybe you think I am only a practical joker? Not at -all! Do you remember that day you were sick, and your head felt as if it -were on fire? Do you remember how I came and cooled it for you, and -played with the tassels of the curtains until sundown to keep you -amused? If I get a bit angry and rough at times, I am gentleness itself -at others, and particularly am I loved in places that are hot and stuffy -and saddened by ill health. I am one of the housekeepers of the earth, -and I must be everlastingly at it to make things comfortable and -shipshape. Oh! The dirt and the dust, the smoke and the foul smells -people throw into my face in the cities, little dreaming that if it were -not for me the earth would be unfit to live on. But I am strong without -end and do my best. Yes, Philippe, I may bluster and blow and play -tricks, but for all that I am a very excellent fellow. And I am a -traveler and adventurer over land and sea, such as one has never read of -in the most thrilling books! No one has seen more of the world than I. I -have seen strange parts of the world, looked behind walls of ice, where -no living thing has ever been. Only the other day——” - -On and on talked Uncle Wind, and on and on traveled the two together. -Over more meadows they went than Philippe thought could possibly be -crowded into the world, and past innumerable herds of cows and flocks of -sheep. It had grown warm with the coming of the sun, and often would -workers in the fields spread wide their arms and speak words of welcome -as they passed. The grass and the yellow wheat bowed as they stepped -lightly over them and even the trees nodded in friendly recognition. -Birds, stretching their wings, took rides on Uncle Wind’s shoulders. At -times Uncle Wind would go quite fast, so that Philippe had to run, and -again, so slowly that they were scarcely creeping, until, after a long -time, they stopped quite still on the top of a high hill. - -“I often lie down and rest at sunset,” explained Uncle Wind in a voice -that was scarcely above a whisper. - -Far, far away, Philippe saw, through a twilight haze of gold, what he -had never seen before: the deep ocean where Grandmother Rain was holding -her family reunion. The crimson sun was rolling over the blue edge of -the world into its sparkling heart. He sat down in the crevice of a rock -and thought long and wonderingly of the things that had come to pass -that day, and he tried to see, in the land that was spread like a map -before his eyes, the red roof and clump of trees that would be his own -home. He did so long to be with his darling mother again! And very soon -it would be dark.... Silver stars began to shine in a pale green sky.... -Golden stars were lit in a sky of deepening purple.... More and more -stars in a sky dark blue. Night had suddenly closed in around him, and -he was frightened and started to cry. - -[Illustration] - -“Uncle Pablôt—I mean, Uncle Wind—I want to go home!” - -But where was Uncle Wind? There was no answer, no sound, and search as -carefully as he would, Philippe could find no trace of him. It was as if -he had utterly vanished, which, indeed, he had, for the time being. - -What was poor Philippe to do? The hilltop stones that surrounded him -took menacing forms; he was sure that he saw the shining eyes, green and -glowing, of prowling beasts. He summoned all his courage and bravely -started to walk—where? Downhill, for he remembered that Grandmother Rain -had told him, as they floated along the river, that that was the only -way any sensible person would ever care to travel. Besides, when you -were on the top of a hill, unless you stayed there, there was no other -choice. Where else he was bound for he had no idea, but anything would -be better than the unbroken stillness of the haunted rocks. How far he -walked, at times ran, through the dark night, falling over roots and -tearing his way through scratching brambles, pursued by unseen terrors -of darkness, before he came to the old man, he had no idea. - -At first he was timid of approaching the bent figure sitting huddled on -a stump, so dim under the starlight. But loneliness and the longing for -companionship overcame his fear. - -“Please, sir,” he said, drawing slowly closer, “please, sir, could you -tell me—— _Grandfather Joseph! Grandfather Joseph!_”—and he flung his -arms around Grandfather’s neck, the hot tears streaming down his cheeks. -But how cold Grandfather was! The touch of Grandfather’s face against -Philippe’s burned like ice. - -“Watch out!” said Grandfather sharply, “You are so insufferably warm you -will melt me, if I do not succeed in freezing you first. And, young -Philippe, be careful the names you call people. Look carefully at me -again; do you not know me?” - -Philippe was doubtful. Surely it was Grandfather Joseph, and -yet—Grandfather had never been so cold, nor so strange in his behavior. -Did he know him? - -“Yes—no,” answered Philippe, not being able to decide. - -“Yes, _Snow_, that is right! I am Grandfather Snow.” - -“It’s very upsetting!” remarked the puzzled boy. - -“Is it?” replied Grandfather Snow coldly. - -“But I may stay here with you, Grandfather? I was so frightened alone in -the black night. I was out walking with Uncle Wind, and—and he seemed to -disappear, and then I lost my way.” - -“You may stay if you do not come too close. So Uncle Wind vanished, did -he? Your Uncle Wind is a fickle, changeable, unreliable fellow, but he -has a will of his own and will turn up in time. I am very dependent on -Uncle Wind; I can do nothing but lie around, without him.” - -“He is very nice, isn’t he, Grandfather?” ventured Philippe. - -“Aye, sometimes,” replied the old man. “He was all gentleness this -afternoon, but wait until you see him to-night! If I’m not mistaken in -the signs, he will be in a fury. Then watch out for yourself, Young -Impudence! When Uncle Wind is in a fury, he is a hard master and drives -every one before him with a stinging lash. You’ll see!” - -Since Grandfather was in such a chilling mood, Philippe did not bother -to talk with him, but sat at a little distance, thankful for -companionship, and watched the winking of the stars, which, even as he -watched them, sparkled and went out like sparks in the soot of a -chimney, or as if a black curtain were being drawn across the black sky. -After a long while, after the last star had vanished and the noiseless -quiet of the night hemmed them in like an invisible wall, Grandfather -Snow sprang to his feet and stood tensely listening with his hand to his -ear. - -“What is it, Grandfather?” Philippe asked, alarmed. - -“Hush!... Hush!... Ah—now I hear it plainly!” - -Philippe put his hand to his ear as he had seen Grandfather do, and -listened intently, holding his breath that he should not miss the -tiniest sound. Nothing. Yes—a far away and tiny sound. It sounded to -Philippe like the little gasping noises he had made when he was learning -to whistle, before ever he had been able to attempt a tune, the noise of -air breathed in and out through rounded lips. - -“_He is coming!_” Grandfather told him in a voice trembling with -excitement. “And he is perfectly furious; seldom have I heard him -whistle more beautifully. _Listen!_” - -Philippe no longer had to strain to hear the far-away whistling; it was -growing nearer every second, and as it approached it became high and -shrill. “Is that my Uncle Wind making all that noise, Grandfather?” - -“Aye!” said Grandfather shortly, crouching close to the ground in the -position of a runner about to start a race. - -“I shall run and meet him,” cried Philippe, delighted at the idea of -seeing his old friend again, who was now evidently very close. He had -not run twelve steps when something spinning through the dark ran -squarely into him, bowled him off his feet and rolled him along the -ground as easily as if he had been made of thistledown. It was a -terrific struggle he had to gain his feet again, and even when he had, -and would have liked to stop to catch his breath and dust off the new -suit his mother had made for him, he found himself being shoved roughly -from behind. - -“Faster! Faster! _Faster!_” screamed a voice in his very ears. And if he -tried to slow up ever so little, “Rush! Rush! _Rush!_” the voice would -command. - -[Illustration: “Faster! faster! _faster!_”] - -“Please, Uncle Wind—oh, please, Uncle Wind—I can’t go any faster—my legs -aren’t long enough!” - -“_Faster!_” screamed Uncle Wind in anger, prodding poor Philippe so hard -that he was fairly lifted off his feet. - -Above them, and all around them, there was the noise of tearing leaves -and crashing branches, there was the groaning of tortured trees as Uncle -Wind lashed them with his invisible cat-o’-ninetails. Dim shadows -streaked past like flying beasts. “Rush!” shrieked Uncle Wind, -“R-U-SHSHSHshshshshsh——” - -Something cold and stinging struck across Philippe’s face, and it was -then, in spite of his breathless panic at the mad flight, that he wanted -to burst out laughing, for he saw that Grandfather, who had all this -time been running at his side, was going so fast that he was actually -losing his whiskers! “Your whiskers, Grandfather! The wind is tearing -your whiskers off!” But the old man, who was speeding along more lightly -than any rabbit, paid no attention. In truth, it seemed no great -calamity, for as fast as Uncle Wind would tear off his whiskers and his -hair and scatter them on the ground, new would grow immediately—and so -thick and fast they grew that the ground became covered with white. But -whiskers were not cold and wet when they brushed across one’s face: they -scratched and tickled, as Philippe had found out on occasions when he -had kissed Grandfather. This was snow! Grandfather Snow was spreading -his white blanket over the earth. - -All night long Uncle Wind and Grandfather Snow sped across the dark -country like mad men, and when little Philippe grew too tired to stand -it any longer, Uncle Wind would lift him up in his strong arms and carry -him. And the snow grew deep, and eddied and twisted into great mounds -and high drifts with sharp, curved edges like the thin crests of -waves—so that in the cold, pale light of the coming morning, the world -looked like a beautiful dream cut from marble. - -And with the coming of dawn, Uncle Wind suddenly stopped driving them. - -“That was a great run!” said Uncle Wind. “It has left me completely out -of puff. Philippe, my boy, I hope it hasn’t tired you too much? -Grandfather Snow, didn’t I drive you beautifully?” - -“Aye.” - -“And you have not done so badly. It will be some days before we are in -shape for another run like that. Well, good-by! I think I shall do my -famous vanishing act again. How about you, Grandfather?” - -“Not quite yet. I shall linger on a bit. There are a few touches, a few -light touches I neglected in my hurry last night that I would like to -attend to this morning. You see,” he explained to Philippe when Uncle -Wind had vanished, “I am quite an artist. Some people think I am very -little use and only good for lying around. Not at all! I make excellent -snowballs, for one thing, and Uncle Wind is not the only member of our -family who has knocked a hat off! But of course I would never tell you -of such a thing if I did not know that you were too much of a gentleman -to use me for such a purpose. No, no, my child, I work as hard for the -things that grow, in my own way, as Grandmother Rain does in hers, but -chiefly I delight to make things beautiful. See that naked gray tree? -How bare and cold it looks! It needs a few high lights that I could not -stop to give it last night—” whereupon Grandfather Snow touched each -branch and twig with a powdering from his white beard, and the twig and -branch of every tree around, until the whole world above the level of -the ground was a tracery of gleaming, fairy lace. “Not bad, Philippe, -not a bit bad! Can you see anything else that needs touching up? Speak -out before it is too late, for my supply is nearly exhausted.” - -[Illustration] - -“Please, Grandfather, it is beautiful, but I am cold and tired, and I -would like to go where it is warm.” - -“Of course you would, my child. Look! Below us in the valley it is -green, and even from here one can see that there are flowers. Run on -down——” - -“I don’t want to run; I’m tired of running!” - -“Well, well,” laughed Grandfather, “walk then, if you wish. After a -while, when the warm sun comes to view my handiwork, I, too, will slip -down into the valley, but I shall not stop there. No, I have a long way -to travel before I join Grandmother Rain once more.” - -Philippe turned slowly away, touched by the purity and peace that -surrounded him. “Good-by.... Good-by ...” said Grandfather Snow gently, -very, very gently! - -As Philippe reached the green valley below, the sun broke through a thin -veil of silver clouds. It had risen brilliant and white from its all -night dip into the distant ocean, and its cheering warmth was gratefully -received by the tired adventurer. A fragrance, mingled of evergreens and -flowers, herbs and damp earth, filled the motionless air, and from the -end of the grass-grown lane, along which he walked lazily, there was an -amazing confusion of sounds, as if thousands of birds were singing at -one time. The lane led him to a gate, and on the gate was a sign which -said: - - PHILIPPE’S GARDEN - -“I must have been away a long time for my garden to have grown so big,” -Philippe told himself. - -Standing inside the gate was little Avril in a new green smock prettily -embroidered with wreaths and garlands of flowers. She curtsied so low -before him that the hem of her dress brushed the young shoots of grass; -and she smiled at him tenderly. - -“And who are you?” asked Philippe warily. - -“Why, Philippe! Don’t you know me?” - -“Yes, I think I do; but I thought that I knew Grandmother Marianne and -she turned out to be Grandmother Rain. Uncle Pablôt, it seems, was not -Uncle Pablôt at all, but Uncle Wind. And my Grandfather Joseph is -Grandfather Snow and lies just above us on the hill. It is very -puzzling; can I be sure that you have not changed your name?” - -“I have quite a number of names,” explained the little girl. “Some call -me Spring, some call me Flora, but you may call me Avril. Avril: -April—it is all the same. Would you like me to show you your garden? It -is very lovely, and I have worked hard to get it all in readiness for -your coming.” - -“You?” - -“Yes. I am your gardener, but I have had a lot of help. Every one has -been so kind! Uncle Wind helped me plant it, Grandfather Snow prepared -the ground in fine shape, and Grandmother Rain has been here often and -often, giving my little plant babies their bottles. It has been a lot of -worry and care, Philippe,” Avril told him in a curiously grown-up voice, -“but when you see my beautiful children, I am sure that you will think -that it was worth while. - -“Now here,” she said, smiling happily and taking him by the hand, “are -some of my first babies: the snowdrops, named in honor of their -godfather, Grandfather Snow. And here——” - -[Illustration: From flower to flower they wandered.] - -From bed to bed, from border to border they wandered, looking at the -flowers, breathing the sweet perfume, and watching the clumsy but clever -bees, out marketing for honey which they would pay for with golden -pollen dust carried on their velvet backs. There were soft-petaled -pansies as dark as midnight, as purple as a queen’s dress, as yellow as -the sun, and sometimes of many colors curiously combined to form impish -and laughing faces. There were lilies of the valley and violets, -stonecrop and candytuft, peonies and roses, larkspur and bridal -wreath—so many flowers that Philippe could not remember their names, but -gave himself up to the enjoyment of their soft and gorgeous colors, -their delicate and magnificent shapes. Farther along the maze of paths -where he was led by Avril, the flowers were still furled in tight buds, -and at length they came to beds where the dark loam was scarcely more -than broken by lifting sprouts. “These are for later,” explained his -fairylike guide. - -“And these?” asked Philippe, when they had entered into a new part of -the garden where straight rows of green-growing things were marked off -in beds of checkerboard design. - -“These funny little fellows,” Avril told him, “are not as beautiful and -proud as the flowers; they hold their heads less high, but they are all -extremely worthy and one would find it difficult to get along without -them.” - -“They look good enough to eat,” said Philippe, who was beginning to feel -very empty. - -“They are,” said Avril. - -“And is all this garden mine?” asked Philippe. - -“Yes,” answered the little girl, curtsying again before him, and added: -“All yours—King Philippe!” - -“Oh, you mustn’t call me ‘King,’ that is, when we’re not playing games, -you know,” Philippe warned her, rather shocked. “Kings are grand people -with treasures hidden away in strong chests, and they wear crowns of -gold and have thousands of servants. I know, because I have read all -about them in a book which my mother gave to me. I am a farmer’s son, -and can never be so wonderful a person as a King.” - -His companion looked at him very thoughtfully, and at last spoke: - -“You are a King, Philippe. Sun, Moon, and Stars shine down upon your -head a crown; the whole earth is yours, the great strong chest of hidden -treasures. From the time the first small star hung like a lonely spark -in space, your servants have been preparing for you a kingdom, the -kingdom of Earth, than which there is only one greater. And that -kingdom, too, will be yours some day if you rule wisely and well in -this, and are kind, and strong-and gentle.” - -“It may be true,” said Philippe, rather bewildered by the wonderful -things he was hearing. “But I am quite sure that I have no servants; -why—little though I am, even I must help my father in the fields.” - -“We are all your servants. Is it not true, Grandmother Rain?” - -A shower suddenly passed over the garden, decking the flowers in crystal -splendor, and from a small cloud overhead Philippe could distinctly hear -the voice of Grandmother: “Yes. I have worked for Philippe’s father and -his grandfathers from the very beginning of things, and I hope to work -for his children and his childrens’ children for time evermore. Do not -think badly of me, Philippe, if I do not come and go just to your -liking, for I am very busy, with much important work to attend to.” - -“Is it not true, Grandfather Snow?” - -“Aye, so it is!” came a voice from the bright hill beyond the garden -wall. - -“Is it not true, Uncle Wind?” - -“Well, well! I am just in time,” remarked Uncle Wind, sauntering up the -garden path, the flowers nodding to him as he passed. He had cast aside -his great cloak, but even then looked a little warm. “Just wandered up -from the Southlands,” he continued. “Yes, my little darling, it is true -enough what you are telling Philippe, but of course we are not to be -bossed about like ordinary servants; we serve and yet we keep our -independence; we have been at our various tasks so long that we know -exactly what to do without being told, and if we seem a little lazy at -times, or a little too enthusiastic at others, remember that we may have -our own very good reasons. Yes, indeed,” he went on, commencing to -bluster a bit, “there are often reasons hidden in the strangest things -we do. Did I ever tell you how once I mussed up the hair of a prince and -ran off with the parasol of a duchess——” - -“The wind is capable of being a little monotonous at times,” Avril -whispered into Philippe’s ear, but he could hardly hear her, for the -garden was being filled with other voices, coming from here, there, and -everywhere—from the grass, and the flowers, and the vegetables, and the -trees, from the stones, and even from the brown earth itself, and they -all were saying in their own way, the one thing: “We serve!” - -“Please listen to us a moment,” pleaded the fragile voices of the -flowers. “We serve too, though many consider us too delicate and -concerned about our own looks to be of much use. But do not forget us, -Philippe! Do not forget us when you are grown up and your mind is -crowded with worries and cares and a lot of things that will seem more -important to you than they really are. Keep a place for us in your mind -and heart, and we will repay you in our mysterious way a hundredfold and -more. Do as we ask; treasure beauty, purity, and truth—for though you -may love us now, you will not understand the full importance of our -message until you have grown up. Do not forget——” - -“The flowers are very talkative to-day,” remarked one little lettuce to -another. - -“The flattery of the bees has quite turned their heads,” agreed a radish -who was notably sharp, whereupon some of the more sensitive flowers who -had overheard blushed deeply. - -But Philippe heard none of this chatter of the vegetables, for it seemed -that the whole world, the ox and the ass, the horse and the cow, the -tame beasts of the fields and the wild beasts of the spaces beyond, the -fox and the rabbit, the mouse and the beetle, the creatures that crawled -and the creatures that ran, the cricket and the grasshopper and the -inhabitants of air and ocean, the little hills and high hills, the -valleys and forests, the voice of water through the land, sky and -earth—all, _all_ were joining in a great, droning chant: “We serve—we -serve—we serve——” - -“What utter nonsense!” shouted a little bird saucily, flying from the -low branches of a tulip tree. “I serve no one; I just have lots of fun, -and I’m going to have an exciting fly—and that’s something little boys -can’t do, for they haven’t even any pin feathers!” - -The cocky way the little bird flapped her wings and tossed her head made -Philippe double up with laughter. - -“See!” said the little rebel’s mate, flying close. “You have made the -King laugh, so your empty boasting has broken like a bubble, for -laughter is one of the greatest services in the world! And as for going -on your wild flight, have you forgotten our pretty blue eggs in their -soft brown nest?” - -“I am a King!” said Philippe in a daze of wonderment. “My darling Avril, -tell me what I can do to show my gratitude to all my servants.” - -“They love nothing better than that you use them, Philippe. Use them -wisely and well, and not only for yourself—but for others.” And gentle -Spring kissed him upon the lips, filling his heart with love and -happiness. - -“It is high time,” said Philippe’s mother to Philippe’s father, “that -our little one was back. Soon it will be dark.” - -She went to the doorway and gazed across the fields. - -“Here comes Pablôt,” she called back into the room, “and he is carrying -the child in his arms.” - -“Sh-h-h-h-h!” breathed Uncle Pablôt, drawing close. “Take your son -gently into your arms; he has been sleeping bravely all the way from his -grandparents’. And here,” said Uncle Pablôt, “is his little silver -whistle, by which I hope that he will remember me when he wakes up and -finds me gone.” - -[Illustration] - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES - - - 1. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. - 2. Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed. - 3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Dream Coach, by -Anne Parrish and Dillwyn Parrish - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DREAM COACH *** - -***** This file should be named 62328-0.txt or 62328-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/2/3/2/62328/ - -Produced by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was -produced from images made available by the HathiTrust -Digital Library.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you -charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you -do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the -rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose -such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and -research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do -practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution. - - - -*** START: FULL LICENSE *** - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at -http://gutenberg.org/license). - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy -all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. -If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" -or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the -collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from -copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative -works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg -are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project -Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by -freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of -this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with -the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by -keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project -Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate -access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently -whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, -copied or distributed: - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived -from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is -posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied -and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees -or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work -with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the -work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 -through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional -terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked -to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the -permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), -you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a -copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon -request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other -form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided -that - -- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is - owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he - has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the - Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments - must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you - prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax - returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and - sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the - address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to - the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." - -- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or - destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium - and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of - Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any - money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days - of receipt of the work. - -- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set -forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from -both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. -To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 -and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent -permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. -Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at -809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email -business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact -information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official -page at http://pglaf.org - -For additional contact information: - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To -SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any -particular state visit http://pglaf.org - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. -To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - 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. |