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diff --git a/old/grybr10h.htm b/old/grybr10h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..491b51f --- /dev/null +++ b/old/grybr10h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1884 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>The Grey Brethren and Other Fragments in Prose and Verse</title> +</head> +<body> +<h2> +<a href="#startoftext">The Grey Brethren and Other Fragments in Prose and Verse, by Michael Fairless</a> +</h2> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Grey Brethren, by Michael Fairless +(#3 in our series by Michael Fairless) + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Grey Brethren and Other Fragments in Prose and Verse + +Author: Michael Fairless + +Release Date: March, 1997 [EBook #835] +[This file was first posted on March 2, 1997] +[Most recently updated: September 25, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII +</pre> +<p><a name="startoftext"></a></p> +<p>Transcribed from the 1911 Duckworth and Co. edition by David Price, +email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<h1>THE GREY BRETHREN AND OTHER FRAGMENTS IN PROSE AND VERSE</h1> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<p>Contents</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>The Grey Brethren<br />A Song of Low Degree<br />A German Christmas +Eve<br />A Christmas Idyll<br />The Manifestation<br />All Souls’ +Day in a German Town<br />By Rivers and Streams<br />Spring<br />A Lark’s +Song<br />‘Luvly Miss’<br />Four Stories Told To Children:<br /> The +Dreadful Griffin<br /> The Discontented Daffodils<br /> The +Fairy Fluffikins<br /> The Story of the Tinkle-Tinkle</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>The Grey Brethren</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Some of the happiest remembrances of my childhood are of days spent +in a little Quaker colony on a high hill.</p> +<p>The walk was in itself a preparation, for the hill was long and steep +and at the mercy of the north-east wind; but at the top, sheltered by +a copse and a few tall trees, stood a small house, reached by a flagged +pathway skirting one side of a bright trim garden.</p> +<p>I, with my seven summers of lonely, delicate childhood, felt, when +I gently closed the gate behind me, that I shut myself into Peace. +The house was always somewhat dark, and there were no domestic sounds. +The two old ladies, sisters, both born in the last century, sat in the +cool, dim parlour, netting or sewing. Rebecca was small, with +a nut-cracker nose and chin; Mary, tall and dignified, needed no velvet +under the net cap. I can feel now the touch of the cool dove-coloured +silk against my cheek, as I sat on the floor, watching the nimble fingers +with the shuttle, and listened as Mary read aloud a letter received +that morning, describing a meeting of the faithful and the ‘moving +of the Spirit’ among them. I had a mental picture of the +‘Holy Heavenly Dove,’ with its wings of silvery grey, hovering +over my dear old ladies; and I doubt not my vision was a true one.</p> +<p>Once as I watched Benjamin, the old gardener - a most ‘stiff-backed +Friend’ despite his stoop and his seventy years - putting scarlet +geraniums and yellow fever-few in the centre bed, I asked, awe-struck, +whether such glowing colours were approved; and Rebecca smiled and said +- “Child, dost thee not think the Lord may have His glories?” +and I looked from the living robe of scarlet and gold to the dove-coloured +gown, and said: “Would it be pride in thee to wear His glories?” +and Mary answered for her - “The change is not yet; better beseems +us the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit.</p> +<p>The ‘change from glory to glory’ has come to them both +long since, but it seems to me as if their robes must still be Quaker-grey.</p> +<p>Upstairs was the invalid daughter and niece. For years she +had been compelled to lie on her face; and in that position she had +done wonderful drawings of the High Priest, the Ark of the Covenant, +and other Levitical figures. She had a cageful of tame canary-birds +which answered to their names and fed from her plate at meal-times. +Of these I remember only Roger, a gorgeous fellow with a beautiful voice +and strong will of his own, who would occasionally defy his mistress +from the secure fastness of a high picture-frame, but always surrendered +at last, and came to listen to his lecture with drooping wings.</p> +<p>A city of Peace, this little house, for the same severely-gentle +decorum reigned in the kitchen as elsewhere: and now, where is such +a haunt to be found?</p> +<p>In the earlier part of this century the Friends bore a most important +witness. They were a standing rebuke to rough manners, rude speech, +and to the too often mere outward show of religion. No one could +fail to be impressed by the atmosphere of peace suggested by their bearing +and presence; and the gentle, sheltered, contemplative lives lived by +most of them undoubtedly made them unusually responsive to spiritual +influence. Now, the young birds have left the parent nest and +the sober plumage and soft speech; they are as other men; and in a few +short years the word Quaker will sound as strange in our ears as the +older appellation Shaker does now.</p> +<p>This year I read for the first time the Journal of George Fox. +It is hard to link the rude, turbulent son of Amos with the denizens +in my city of Peace; but he had his work to do and did it, letting breezy +truths into the stuffy ‘steeple-houses’ of the ‘lumps +of clay.’</p> +<p>“Come out from among them and be ye separate; touch not the +accursed thing!” he thundered; and out they came, obedient to +his stentorian mandate; but alack, how many treasures in earthen vessels +did they overlook in their terror of the curse! The good people +made such haste to flee the city, that they imagined themselves as having +already, in the spirit, reached the land that is very far off; and so +they cast from them the outward and visible signs which are vehicles, +in this material world, of inward graces. Measureless are the +uncovenanted blessings of God; and to these the Friends have ever borne +a witness of power; but now the Calvinist intruder no longer divides +the sheep from the goats in our churches; now the doctrine of universal +brotherhood and the respect due to all men are taught much more effectively +than when George Fox refused to doff his hat to the Justice; the quaint +old speech has lost its significance, the dress would imply all the +vainglory that the wearer desires to avoid; the young Quakers of this +generation are no longer ‘disciplined’ in matters of the +common social life; yet still they remain separate.</p> +<p>We of the outward and visible covenant need them, with their inherited +mysticism, ordered contemplation, and spiritual vision; we need them +for ourselves. The mother they have left yearns for them, and +with all her faults - faults the greater for their absence - and with +the blinded eyes of their recognition, she is their mother still. +“<i>What advantage</i> <i>then hath the Jew</i>?” asked +St Paul, and answered in the same breath - “<i>Much every way, +chiefly because that unto them were committed the oracles of God</i>.” +What advantage then has the Churchman? is the oft repeated question +today; and the answer is still the answer of St Paul.</p> +<p>The Incarnation is the sum of all the Sacraments, the crown of the +material revelation of God to man, the greatest of outward and visible +signs, “<i>that which we have heard, which we have seen with our +eyes, which we have looked upon and our hands have handled of the word +of life</i>.” A strange beginning truly, to usher in a purely +spiritual dispensation; but beautifully fulfilled in the taking up of +the earthly into the heavenly - Bread and Wine, the natural fruits of +the earth, sanctified by man’s toil, a sufficiency for his needs; +and instinct with Divine life through the operation of the Holy Ghost.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>“In the sweat of thy face thou shalt eat bread.”</p> +<p>“Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood +ye have no life in you”</p> +<p>“And the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>From Genesis to the Revelation of the Divine reaches the rainbow +of the Sacramental system - outward and visible signs of inward and +spiritual grace:-</p> +<p>The sacrament of purging, purifying labour, to balance and control +the knowledge of good and evil:-</p> +<p>The sacrament of life, divine life, with the outward body of humiliation, +bread and wine, fruit of the accursed ground, but useless without man’s +labour; and St Paul, caught up into the third heaven, and St John, with +his wide-eyed vision of the Lamb, must eat this bread and drink this +cup if they would live:-</p> +<p>The sacrament of healing, the restoring of the Image of God in fallen +man.</p> +<p>The Church is one society, nay, the world is one society, for man +without his fellow-men is not; and into the society, both of the Church +and the world, are inextricably woven the most social sacraments.</p> +<p>Herein is great purpose, we say, bending the knee; and with deep +consciousness of sins and shortcomings we stretch out longing welcoming +hands to our grey brethren with their inheritance of faithfulness and +steadfastness under persecution, and their many gifts and graces; and +we cry, in the words of the Song of Songs which is Solomon’s: +“O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret +places of the stairs, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; +for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.” +“Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For lo, the +winter is past, the rain is over and gone.”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>A Song of Low Degree</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Lord, I am small, and yet so great,<br />The whole world stands to +my estate,<br />And in Thine Image I create.<br />The sea is mine; and +the broad sky<br />Is mine in its immensity:<br />The river and the +river’s gold;<br />The earth’s hid treasures manifold;<br />The +love of creatures small and great,<br />Save where I reap a precious +hate;<br />The noon-tide sun with hot caress,<br />The night with quiet +loneliness;<br />The wind that bends the pliant trees,<br />The whisper +of the summer breeze;<br />The kiss of snow and rain; the star<br />That +shines a greeting from afar;<br />All, all are mine; and yet so small<br />Am +I, that lo, I needs must call,<br />Great King, upon the Babe in Thee,<br />And +crave that Thou would’st give to me<br />The grace of Thy humility.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>A German Christmas Eve</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>It was intensely cold; Father Rhine was frozen over, so he may speak +for it; and for days we had lived to the merry jangle and clang of innumerable +sleigh bells, in a white and frost-bound world. As I passed through +the streets, crowded with stolidly admiring peasants from the villages +round, I caught the dear remembered ‘Grüss Gott!’ and +‘All’ Heil!’ of the countryside, which town life quickly +stamps out along with many other gentle observances.</p> +<p>“Gelobt sei Jesu Christ!” cried little Sister Hilarius, +coming on me suddenly at a corner, her round face aglow with the sharp +air, her arms filled with queer-shaped bundles. She begs for her +sick poor as she goes along - meat here, some bread there, a bottle +of good red wine: I fancy few refuse her. She nursed me once, +the good little sister, with unceasing care and devotion, and all the +dignity of a scant five feet. “Ach, Du lieber Gott, such +gifts!” she added, with a radiant smile, and vanished up a dirty +stairway.</p> +<p>In the Quergasse a jay fell dead at my feet - one of the many birds +which perished thus - he had flown townwards too late. Up at the +Jagdschloss the wild creatures, crying a common truce of hunger, trooped +each day to the clearing by the Jäger’s cottage for the food +spread for them. The great tusked boar of the Taunus with his +brother of Westphalia, the timid roe deer with her scarcely braver mate, +foxes, hares, rabbits, feathered game, and tiny songbirds of the woods, +gathered fearlessly together and fed at the hand of their common enemy +- a millennial banquet truly.</p> +<p>The market-place was crowded, and there were Christmas trees everywhere, +crying aloud in bushy nakedness for their rightful fruit. The +old peasant women, rolled in shawls, with large handkerchiefs tied over +their caps, warmed their numb and withered hands over little braziers +while they guarded the gaily decked treasure-laden booths, from whose +pent-roofs Father Winter had hung a fringe of glittering icicles.</p> +<p>Many of the stalls were entirely given over to Christmas-tree splendours. +Long trails of gold and silver <i>Engelshaar</i>, piles of candles - +red, yellow, blue, green, violet, and white - a rainbow of the Christian +virtues and the Church’s Year; boxes of frost and snow, festoons +of coloured beads, fishes with gleaming scales, glass-winged birds, +Santa Klaus in frost-bedecked mantle and scarlet cap, angels with trumpets +set to their waxen lips; and everywhere and above all the image of the +Holy Child. Sometimes it was the tiny waxen Bambino, in its pathetic +helplessness; sometimes the Babe Miraculous, standing with outstretched +arms awaiting the world’s embrace - Mary’s Son, held up +in loving hands to bless; or the Heavenly Child-King with crown and +lily sceptre, borne high by Joseph, that gentle, faithful servitor. +It was the festival of Bethlehem, feast of never-ending keeping, which +has its crowning splendour on Christmas Day.</p> +<p>A Sister passed with a fat, rosy little girl in either hand; they +were chattering merrily of the gift they were to buy for the dear Christkind, +the gift which Sister said He would send some ragged child to receive +for Him. They came back to the poor booth close to where I was +standing. It was piled with warm garments; and after much consultation +a little white vest was chosen - the elder child rejected pink, she +knew the Christkind would like white best - then they trotted off down +a narrow turning to the church, and I followed.</p> +<p>The Crêche stood without the chancel, between the High Altar +and that of Our Lady of Sorrows. It was very simple. A blue +paper background spangled with stars; a roughly thatched roof supported +on four rude posts; at the back, ox and ass lying among the straw with +which the ground was strewn. The figures were life-size, of carved +and painted wood: Joseph, tall and dignified, stood as guardian, leaning +on his staff; Mary knelt with hands slightly uplifted in loving adoration; +and the Babe lay in front on a truss of straw disposed as a halo. +It was the World’s Child, and the position emphasised it. +Two or three hard-featured peasants knelt telling their beads; and a +group of children with round, blue eyes and stiff, flaxen pigtails, +had gathered in front, and were pointing and softly whispering. +My little friends trotted up, crossed themselves; it was evidently the +little one’s first visit.</p> +<p>“Guck! guck mal an,” she cried, clapping her fat gloved +hands, “sieh mal an das Wickelkind!”</p> +<p>“Dass ist unser Jesu,” said the elder, and the little +one echoed “Unser Jesu, unser Jesu!”</p> +<p>Then the vest was brought out and shown - why not, it was the Christchild’s +own? - and the pair trotted away again followed by the bright, patient +Sister. Presently everyone clattered out, and I was left alone +at the crib of Bethlehem, the gate of the Kingdom of Heaven.</p> +<p>It was my family, my only family; but like the ever-widening circle +on the surface of a lake into which a stone has been flung, here, from +this great centre, spread the wonderful ever-widening relationship - +the real brotherhood of the world. It is at the Crib that everything +has its beginning, not at the Cross; and it is only as little children +that we can enter into the Kingdom of Heaven.</p> +<p>When I went out again into the streets it was nearly dark. +Anxious mothers hurried past on late, mysterious errands; papas who +were not wanted until the last moment chatted gaily to each other at +street corners, and exchanged recollections; maidservants hastened from +shop to shop with large baskets already heavily laden; and the children +were everywhere, important with secrets, comfortably secure in the knowledge +of a tree behind the parlour doors, and a kindly, generous Saint who +knew all their wants, and needed no rod <i>this</i> year.</p> +<p>One little lad, with a pinched white face, and with only an empty +certainty to look forward to, was singing shrilly in the sharp, still +air, “Zu Bethlehem geboren, ist uns ein Kindelein,” as he +gazed wistfully at a shop window piled high with crisp gingerbread, +marzipan, chocolate under every guise, and tempting cakes. A great +rough peasant coming out, saw him, turned back, and a moment later thrust +a gingerbread Santa Klaus, with currant eyes and sugar trimming to his +coat and cap, into the half-fearful little hands. “Hab’ +ebenso ein Kerlchen zu Haus’,” he said to me apologetically +as he passed.</p> +<p>I waited to see Santa Klaus disappear; but no, the child looked at +the cake, sighed deeply with the cruel effort of resistance, and refrained. +It was all his Christmas and he would keep it. He gazed and gazed, +then a smile rippled across the wan little face and he broke out in +another carol, “Es kam ein Engel hell und klar vom Himmel zu der +Hirten Schaar,” and hugging his Santa Klaus carefully, wandered +away down the now brilliant streets: he did not know he was hungry any +more; the angel had come with good tidings.</p> +<p>As I passed along the streets I could see through the uncurtained +windows that in some houses Christmas had begun already for the little +ones. Then the bells rang out deep-mouthed, carrying the call +of the eager Church to her children, far up the valley and across the +frozen river. And they answered; the great church was packed from +end to end, and from my place by the door I saw that two tiny Christmas +trees bright with coloured candles burnt either side of the Holy Child.</p> +<p>A blue-black sky ablaze with stars for His glory, a fresh white robe +for stained and tired earth; so we went to Bethlehem in the rare stillness +of the early morning. The Church, having no stars, had lighted +candles; and we poor sinful men having no white robes of our own had +craved them of the Great King at her hands.</p> +<p>And so in the stillness, with tapers within and stars alight without, +with a white-clad earth, and souls forgiven, the Christ Child came to +those who looked for His appearing.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>A Christmas Idyll</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>The Child with the wondering eyes sat on the doorstep, on either +side of her a tramp cat in process of becoming a recognised member of +society. On the flagged path in front the brown brethren were +picking up crumbs. The cats’ whiskers trembled, but they +sat still, proudly virtuous, and conscious each of a large saucer of +warm milk within.</p> +<p>“What,” said the Child, “is a symbol?”</p> +<p>The cats looked grave.</p> +<p>The Child rose, went into the house, and returned with a well-thumbed +brown book. She turned the pages thoughtfully, and read aloud, +presumably for the benefit of the cats: “In a symbol there is +concealment yet revelation, the infinite is made to blend with the finite, +to stand visible, and as it were attainable there.” The +Child sighed, “We had better go to the Recluse,” she said. +So the three went.</p> +<p>It was a cold, clear, bright day, a typical Christmas Eve. +There was a carpet of crisp snow on the ground, and a fringe of icicles +hung from every vantage-point. The cats, not having been accustomed +to the delights of domesticity, trotted along cheerfully despite the +chill to their toes; and they soon came to the forest which all three +knew very well indeed. It was a beautiful forest like a great +cathedral, with long aisles cut between the splendid upstanding pine +trees. The green-fringed boughs were heavy with snow, the straight +strong stems caught and reflected the stray sun rays, and looking up +through the arches and delicate tracery and interlaced branches the +eye caught the wonderful blue of the great domed roof overhead. +The cats walked delicately, fearful of temptation in the way of rabbits +or frost-tamed birds, and the Child lilted a quaint German hymn to a +strange old tune:-</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>“Ein Kind gebor’n zu Bethlehem.<br />Alleluja!<br />Dess +freuet sich Jerusalem,<br />Alleluja! Alleluja!”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>The Recluse was sitting on a bench outside his cave. He was +dressed in a brown robe, his eyes were like stars wrapped in brown velvet, +his face was strong and gentle, his hair white although he looked quite +young. He greeted the Child very kindly and stroked the cats.</p> +<p>“You have come to ask me a question, Child?”</p> +<p>“If you please,” said the Child, “what is a symbol?”</p> +<p>“Ah,” said the Recluse, “I might have known you +would ask me that.”</p> +<p>“The Sage says,” went on the Child, “that it is +concealment yet revelation.”</p> +<p>The Recluse nodded.</p> +<p>“Just as a mystery that we cannot understand is the greatest +possible wisdom. Go in and sit by my fire, Child; there are chestnuts +on the hearth, and you will find milk in the brown jug. I will +show you a symbol presently.”</p> +<p>The Child and the two cats went into the cave and sat down by the +fire. It was warm and restful after the biting air. The +cats purred pleasantly, the Child sat with her chin in her hand watching +the glowing wood burn red and white on the great hearthstone.</p> +<p>“The Recluse generally answers my questions by showing me something +I have seen for a long time but never beheld, or heard and never lent +ear. I wonder what it will be this time,” she said to herself.</p> +<p>The grateful warmth made the Child sleepy, and she gave a start when +she found the Recluse standing by her with outstretched hand.</p> +<p>“Come, dear Child,” he said; and leaving the sleeping +cats she followed him, her hand in his.</p> +<p>The air was full of wonderful sound, voices and song, and the cry +of the bells.</p> +<p>The Child wondered, and then remembered it was Christmas night. +The Recluse led her down a little passage and opened a door. They +stepped out together, but not into the forest.</p> +<p>“This is the front door of my house,” said the Recluse, +with a little smile.</p> +<p>They stood on a white road, on one side a stretch of limestone down, +on the other steep terraces with gardens and vineyard. The air +was soft and warm, and sweet with the breath of lilies. The heaven +was ablaze with stars; across the plain to the east the dawn was breaking. +A group of strangely-clad men went down the road followed by a flock +of sheep.</p> +<p>“Let us go with them,” said the Recluse; and hand in +hand they went.</p> +<p>The road curved to the right; round the bend, cut in the living rock, +was a cave; the shepherds stopped and knelt, and there was no sound +but the soft rapid breathing of the flock. Then the Child was +filled with an overmastering longing, a desire so great that the tears +sprang hot to her eyes. She dropped the Recluse’s hand and +went forward where the shepherds knelt. Once again the air was +full of wonderful sound, voices and song, and the cry of the bells; +but within all was silence. The cave was rough-hewn, and stabled +an ox and an ass; close to the front a tall strong man leaning on a +staff kept watch and ward; within knelt a peasant Maid, and on a heap +of yellow straw lay a tiny new-born Babe loosely wrapped in a linen +cloth: around and above were wonderful figures of fire and mist.</p> +<p>The infinite, visible and attainable.</p> +<p>The mystery which is the greatest possible wisdom.</p> +<p>* * * * *</p> +<p>“Come, Child,” said the Recluse.</p> +<p>The fire had burnt low; it was quite dark, save for the glow of the +live embers.</p> +<p>He threw on a great dry pine log; it flared like a torch. The +cats’ stretched in the sudden blaze, and then settled to sleep +again. The Child and the Recluse passed out into the forest. +The moon was very bright and the snow reflected its rays, so that it +was light in spite of the great trees. The air was full of wonderful +sound, voices and song, and the cry of the bells; and the Child sang +as she went in a half-dream by the side of the Recluse:-</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>“In dieser heil’gen Weihnachtszeit,<br />Alleluja!<br />Sei, +Gott der Herr, gebenedeit,<br />Alleluja! Alleluja!”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>and wondered when she would wake up. They came to the old, +old church in the forest, and the pictured saints looked out at them +from the lighted window; through the open door they could see figures +moving about with tapers in their hands; save for these the church was +still empty.</p> +<p>The Recluse led the way up the nave to the north side of the Altar. +The Child started a little; she was really dreaming then a kind of circular +dream, for again she stood before the cave, again the reverend figure +kept watch and ward over the kneeling Maid and the little Babe. +The sheep and the shepherds were not there, but a little lamb had strayed +in; and the wonderful figures of fire and mist - they were there in +their place.</p> +<p>“Little one,” said the Recluse softly, “here is +a symbol - concealment yet revelation - the King as servant - the strong +helpless - the Almighty a little child; and thus the infinite stands +revealed for all of us, visible and attainable, if we will have it so. +It is the centre of all mystery, the greatest possible wisdom, the Eternal +Child.”</p> +<p>“You showed it me before,” said the Child, “only +we were out of doors, and the shepherds were there with the sheep; but +the angels are here just the same.”</p> +<p>The Recluse bowed his head.</p> +<p>“Wait for me here with them, dear Child, I will fetch you after +service.”</p> +<p>The church began to fill; old men in smock frocks and tall hats, +little children wrapped warm against the cold, lads, shining and spruce, +old women in crossed shawls and wonderful bonnets. The service +was not very long; then the Recluse went up into the old grey stone +pulpit. The villagers settled to listen - he did not often preach.</p> +<p>“My brothers and sisters, to-night we keep the Birth of the +Holy Babe, and to-night you and I stand at the gate of the Kingdom of +Heaven, the gate which is undone only at the cry of a little child. +‘Except ye be converted and become as little children, ye shall +not enter.’</p> +<p>“The Kingdom is a great one, nay, a limitless one; and many +enter in calling it by another name. It includes your own hearts +and this wonderful forest, all the wise and beautiful works that men +have ever thought of or done, and your daily toil; it includes your +nearest and dearest, the outcast, the prisoner, and the stranger; it +holds your cottage home and the jewelled City, the New Jerusalem itself. +People are apt to think the Kingdom of Heaven is like church on Sunday, +a place to enter once a week in one’s best: whereas it holds every +flower, and has room for the ox and the ass, and the least of all creatures, +as well as for our prayer and worship and praise.</p> +<p>“‘Except ye become as little children.’ How +are we to be born again, simple children with wondering eyes?</p> +<p>“We must learn to lie in helpless dependence, to open our mouth +wide that it may be filled, to speak with halting tongue the language +we think we know; we must learn above all our own ignorance, and keep +alight and cherish the flame of innocency in our hearts.</p> +<p>“It is a tired world, my brethren, and we are most of us tired +men and women who live on it, for we seek ever after some new thing. +Let us pass out through the gate into the Kingdom of Heaven and not +be tired any more, because there we shall find the new thing that we +seek. Heaven is on earth, the Kingdom is here and now; the gate +stands wide to-night, for it is the birthright of the Eternal Child. +We are none of us too poor, or stupid, or lowly; it was the simple shepherds +who saw Him first. We are none of us too great, or learned, or +rich; it was the three wise kings who came next and offered gifts. +We are none of us too young; it was little children who first laid down +their lives for Him; or too old, for Simeon saw and recognised Him. +There is only one thing against most of us - we are too proud.</p> +<p>“My brethren, ‘let us now go even to Bethlehem, and face +this thing which is come to pass, which the LORD hath made known unto +us.’”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>The lights were out in the church when the Recluse came to fetch +the Child. She was still kneeling by the crêche, keeping +watch with the wonderful figures of fire and mist.</p> +<p>“Was <i>this</i> a dream or the other?” said the Child.</p> +<p>“Neither,” said the Recluse, and he blessed her in the +moonlit dark.</p> +<p>The air was full of wonderful sound, voices and song, and the cry +of the bells.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>The Manifestation</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>God said; “Let there be light”; and in the East<br />A +star rose flaming from night’s purple sea -<br />The star of Truth, +the star of Joy, the star<br />Seen by the prophets down the lonely +years;<br />Set for a light to show the Perfect Way;<br />Set for a +sign that wayfarers might find;<br />Set for a seal to mark the Godhead’s +home.<br />And three Kings in their palaces afar,<br />Who waited ardently +for promised things,<br />Beheld, and read aright. Straightway +the road<br />Was hot with pad of camel, horse’s hoof,<br />While +night was quick as day with spurring men<br />And light with flaring +torch. “Haste, haste!” they cried,<br />“We +seek the King, the King! for in the East<br />His star’s alight.”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>BETHLEHEM</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p><i>The Angels</i></p> +<p>Soft and slow, soft and slow,<br />With angels’ wings of fire +and snow,<br />To rock Him gently to and fro.<br />Fire to stay the +chill at night,<br />Snow to cool the noonday bright;<br />And overhead +His star’s alight.</p> +<p>Pale and sweet, pale and sweet,<br />Maid Mary keeps her vigil meet,<br />While +Joseph waits with patient feet.<br />Mary’s love for soft embrace,<br />Joseph’s +strength to guard the place.<br />Lo! from the East Kings ride apace.</p> +<p>Gold and myrrh, gold and myrrh,<br />Frankincense for harbinger,<br />Myrrh +to make His sepulchre.<br />Roses white and roses red,<br />Thorns arrayed +for His dear Head.<br />Hail! hail! Wise Men who seek His bed</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p><i>Joseph</i></p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Little One, Little One, Saviour and Child,<br />Father and Mother, +my Husband and Son;<br />Born of the lily, the maid undefiled,<br />Babe +of my Love, the Beatified One.</p> +<p>Little One, Little One, Master and LORD,<br />Kings of the Earth +come, desiring Thy Face;<br />I, Thy poor servitor, lowly afford<br />All +that my life holds, for all is Thy Grace.</p> +<p>Little One, Little One, GOD over all,<br />Earth is thy footstool, +and Heav’n is Thy throne:<br />Joseph the carpenter, prostrate +I fall;<br />Praise thee, adore Thee, and claim Thee mine own.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p><i>Maid Mary</i></p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Babe, dear Babe!<br />Mine own, mine own, my heart’s delight,<br />The +myrrh between my breasts at night,<br />My little Rose, my Lily white,<br />My +Babe for whom the star’s alight.</p> +<p>Babe, dear Babe!<br />Mine own, mine own, GOD’S only SON,<br />Foretold, +foreseen, since earth begun;<br />Desire of nations, Promised One<br />When +Eve was first by sin undone.</p> +<p>Babe, dear Babe!<br />Mine own, mine own, the whole world’s +Child!<br />Born of each heart that’s undefiled,<br />Nursed at +the breast of Mercy mild,<br />And in the arms of Love asiled.</p> +<p>Babe, dear Babe!<br />My crown of glory, sorrow’s sword,<br />My +Maker, King, Redeemer, Lord,<br />My Saviour and my great Reward;<br />My +little Son, my Babe adored.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p><i>The Three Kings</i></p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Hail! Hail thou wondrous little King!<br />To Thy dear Feet<br />Our +offerings meet<br />With bended knee we bring;<br />O mighty baby King,<br />Accept +the offering.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p><i>First King</i></p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>LORD, I stoop low<br />My head of snow,<br />Thus I, the great, hail +Thee, the Least!<br />And swing the censer for the Priest,<br />The +Priest with hands upraised to bless,<br />The Priest of this world’s +bitterness.<br />As I stoop low<br />My head of snow,<br />Bless me, +O Priest, before I go.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p><i>Second King</i></p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Behold me, King!<br />A man of might,<br />Who rules dominions infinite;<br />Strong +in the harvest of the years,<br />And one who counts no kings as peers.<br />O +little King,<br />Behold my crown!<br />I lay it down,<br />And bow +before Thy lowly bed<br />My all unworthy uncrowned head,<br />For I +am naught and Thou art All.<br />And Thou shalt climb a throne set high,<br />Between +sad earth and silent sky,<br />Thereon to agonize and die;<br />And +at Thy Feet the world shall fall.<br />Stretch out Thy little Hands, +O King,<br />Behold the world’s imagining!</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p><i>Third King</i></p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Out of the shadow of the night<br />I come, led by the starshine +bright,<br />With broken heart to bring to Thee<br />The fruit of Thine +Epiphany,<br />The gift my fellows send by me,<br />The myrrh to bed +Thine agony.<br />I set it here beneath Thy Feet,<br />In token of Death’s +great defeat;<br />And hail Thee Conqueror in the strife;<br />And hail +Thee Lord of Light and Life.<br />All hail! All hail the Virgin’s +Son!<br />All hail! Thou little helpless One!<br />All hail! +Thou King upon the Tree!<br />All hail! The Babe on Mary’s +knee,<br />The centre of all mystery!</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>All Souls’ Day in a German Town</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>The leaves fall softly: a wind of sighs<br />Whispers the world’s +infirmities,<br />Whispers the tale of the waning years,<br />While +slow mists gather in shrouding tears<br />On All Souls’ Day; and +the bells are slow<br />In steeple and tower. Sad folk go<br />Away +from the township, past the mill,<br />And mount the slope of a grassy +hill<br />Carved into terraces broad and steep,<br />To the inn where +wearied travellers sleep,<br />Where the sleepers lie in ordered rows,<br />And +no man stirs in his long repose.<br />They wend their way past the haunts +of life,<br />Father and daughter, grandmother, wife,<br />To deck with +candle and deathless cross,<br />The house which holds their dearest +loss.<br />I, who stand on the crest of the hill,<br />Watch how beneath +me, busied still,<br />The sad folk wreathe each grave with flowers.<br />Awhile +the veil of the twilight hours<br />Falls softly, softly, over the hill,<br />Shadows +the cross:- creeps on until<br />Swiftly upon us is flung the dark.<br />Then, +as if lit by a sudden spark,<br />Each grave is vivid with points of +light,<br />Earth is as Heaven’s mirror to-night;<br />The air +is still as a spirit’s breath,<br />The lights burn bright in +the realm of Death.<br />Then silent the mourners mourning go,<br />Wending +their way to the church below;<br />While the bells toll out to bid +them speed,<br />With eager Pater and prayerful bead,<br />The souls +of the dead, whose bodies still<br />Lie in the churchyard under the +hill;<br />While they wait and wonder in Paradise,<br />And gaze on +the dawning mysteries,<br />Praying for us in our hours of need;<br />For +us, who with Pater and prayerful bead<br />Have bidden those waiting +spirits speed.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>Rivers and Streams</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Running water has a charm all its own; it proffers companionship +of which one never tires; it adapts itself to moods; it is the guardian +of secrets. It has cool draughts for the thirsty soul as well +as for drooping flowers; and they who wander in the garden of God with +listening ears learn of its many voices.</p> +<p>When the strain of a working day has left me weary, perhaps troubled +and perplexed, I find my way to the river. I step into a boat +and pull up stream until the exertion has refreshed me; and then I make +fast to the old alder-stump where last year the reed-piper nested, and +lie back in the stern and think.</p> +<p>The water laps against the keel as the boat rocks gently in the current; +the river flows past, strong and quiet. There are side eddies, +of course, and little disturbing whirlpools near the big stones, but +they are all gathered into the broad sweep of the stream, carried down +to the great catholic sea. And while I listen to the murmur of +the water and watch its quiet strength the day’s wrinkles are +smoothed out of my face; and at last the river bears me homeward rested +and at peace.</p> +<p>There are long stretches of time for me when I must remain apart +from the world of work, often unwilling, sometimes with a very sore +heart. Then I turn my steps towards my friend and wander along +the banks, a solitary not alone. In the quiet evening light I +watch the stream ‘never hasting, never resting’: the grass +that grows beside it is always green, the flowers are fresh; it makes +long embracing curves - I could cross from point to point in a minute, +but to follow takes five. The ways of the water are ways of healing; +I have a companion who makes no mistakes, touches none of my tender +spots.</p> +<p>Presently I reach the silent pool, where the stream takes a wide +sweep. Here the fair white water-lilies lie on their broad green +leaves and wait for their lover the moon; for then they open their silvery +leaves and bloom in the soft light fairer far than beneath the hot rays +of the sun. Then, too, the buds rise out of the water and the +moon kisses them into bloom and fragrance. Near by are the little +yellow water-lilies, set for beauty against a background of great blue-eyed +forget-me-nots and tall feathery meadowsweet. The river still +sweeps on its way, but the pool is undisturbed; it lies out of the current. +They say it is very deep - no one knows quite how deep - and it has +its hidden tragedy. I gaze down through the clear water, following +the thick lily-stalks - a forest where solemn carp sail in and out and +perch chase each other through the maze - and beyond them I cannot see +the bottom, the secret of its stillness; but I may watch the clouds +mirrored on its surface, and the evening glow lying at my feet.</p> +<p>I think of the fathomless depths of the peace of God, fair with flowers +of hope; of still places wrought in man; of mirrors that reflect, in +light uncomprehended, the Image of the Holy Face.</p> +<p>I go home across the common, comforted, towards the little town where +the red roofs lie glimmering in the evening shadows, and the old grey +church stands out clear and distinct against the fading sky.</p> +<p>* * * * *</p> +<p>One of the happiest memories of my childhood is the little brook +in the home field. I know it was not a very clean little brook +- it passed through an industrious manufacturing world - but to me then +this mattered not at all.</p> +<p>Where it had its source I never found out; it came from a little +cave in the side of the hill, and I remember that one of its banks was +always higher than the other. I once sought to penetrate the cave, +but with sad results in the shape of bed before dinner and no pudding, +such small sympathy have one’s elders with the spirit of research. +Just beyond the cave the brook was quite a respectable width, - even +my big boy cousin fell into mud and disgrace when he tried to jump it +- and there was a gravelly beach, at least several inches square, where +we launched our boats of hollowed elder-wood. Soon, however, it +narrowed, it could even be stepped over; but it was still exciting and +delightful, with two perilous rapids over which the boats had to be +guided, and many boulders - for the brook was a brave stream, and had +fashioned its bed in rocky soil. Further down was our bridge, +one flat stone dragged thither by really herculean efforts. It +was unnecessary, but a triumph. A little below this outcome of +our engineering skill the brook widened again before disappearing under +a flagged tunnel into the neighbouring field. Here, in the shallows, +we built an aquarium. It was not altogether successful, because +whenever it rained at all hard the beasts were washed out; but there +was always joy in restocking it. Under one of the banks close +by lived a fat frog for whom I felt great respect. We used to +sit and gaze at each other in silent intercourse, until he became bored +- I think I never did - and flopped into the water with a splash.</p> +<p>But it was the brook itself that was my chief and dearest companion. +It chattered and sang to me, and told me of the goblins who lived under +the hill, of fairies dancing on the grass on moonlight nights, and scolding +the pale lilac milk-maids on the banks; and of a sad little old man +dressed in brown, always sad because his dear water-children ran away +from him when they heard the voice of the great river telling them of +the calling of the sea.</p> +<p>It spoke to me of other more wonderful things, not even now to be +put into words, things of the mysteries of a child’s imagination; +and these linger still in my life, and will linger, I think, until they +are fulfilled.</p> +<p>* * * * *</p> +<p>I have another friend - a Devonshire stream. I found it in +spring when the fields along its banks were golden with Lent-lilies. +I do not even know its name; it has its source up among the old grey +tors, and doubtless in its beginning had a hard fight for existence. +When it reaches the plain it is a good-sized stream, although nowhere +navigable. I do not think it even turns a mill; it just flows +along and waters the flowers. I have seen it with my bodily eyes +only once; but it has left in my life a blessing, a picture of blue +sky, yellow bells, and clear rippling water - and whispered secrets +not forgotten.</p> +<p>All the Devonshire streams are full of life and strength. They +chatter cheerily over stones, they toil bravely to shape out their bed. +Some of them might tell horrible tales of the far-away past, of the +worship of the false god when blood stained the clear waters; tales, +too, of feud and warfare, of grave council and martial gathering; and +happy stories of fairy and pixy our eyes are too dull to see, and of +queer little hillmen with foreign ways and terror of all human beings. +Their banks are bright with tormentil, blue with forget-me-not, rich +in treasures of starry moss; the water is clear, cool in the hottest +summer - they rise under the shadow of the everlasting hills, and their +goal is the sea.</p> +<p>* * * * *</p> +<p>There are other times when I must leave the clean waters and the +good brown earth, to live, for a while, in London: and there I go on +pilgrimage that I may listen to the river’s voice.</p> +<p>I stand sometimes at a wharf where the ships are being unloaded of +the riches of every country, of fruits of labour by my unknown brothers +in strange lands; and the river speaks of citizenship in the great world +of God, wherein all men have place, each man have his own place, and +every one should be neighbour to him who may have need.</p> +<p>I pass on to London Bridge, our Bridge of Sighs. How many of +these my brethren have sought refuge in the cold grey arms of the river +from something worse than death? What drove them to this dreadful +resting-place? What spectre hurried them to the leap? These +things, too, are my concern, the river says.</p> +<p>Life is very grim in London: it is not painted in the fair, glowing +colours of grass and sky and trees, and shining streams that bring peace. +It is drawn in hard black and white; but the voice of its dark waters +must be heard all the same.</p> +<p>* * * * *</p> +<p>I would not leave my rivers in the shadow. After all, this +life is only a prelude, a beginning: we pass on to where “the +rivers and streams make glad the city of God.” But if we +will not listen here how shall we understand hereafter.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>Spring</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Hark how the merry daffodils,<br />Fling golden music to the hills!<br />And +how the hills send echoing down,<br />Through wind-swept turf and moorland +brown,<br />The murmurs of a thousand rills<br />That mock the song-birds’ +liquid trills!<br />The hedge released from Winter’s frown<br />Shews +jewelled branch and willow crown;<br />While all the earth with pleasure +trills,<br />And ‘dances with the daffodils.’</p> +<p>Out, out, ye flowers! Up and shout!<br />Staid Winter’s +passed and Spring’s about<br />To lead your ranks in joyous rout;<br />To +string the hawthorn’s milky pearls,<br />And gild the grass with +celandine;<br />To dress the catkins’ tasselled curls,<br />To +twist the tendrils of the vine.<br />She wakes the wind-flower from +her sleep,<br />And lights the woods with April’s moon;<br />The +violets lift their heads to peep,<br />The daisies brave the sun at +noon.</p> +<p>The gentle wind from out the west<br />Toys with the lilac pretty +maids;<br />Ruffles the meadow’s verdant-vest,<br />And rings +the bluebells in the glades;<br />The ash-buds change their sombre suit,<br />The +orchards blossom white and red -<br />Promise of Autumn’s riper +fruit,<br />When Spring’s voluptuousness has fled.<br />Awake! +awake, O throstle sweet!<br />And haste with all your choir to greet<br />This +Queen who comes with wakening feet.</p> +<p>Persephone with grateful eyes<br />Salutes the Sun - ’tis Paradise:<br />Then +hastens down the dewy meads,<br />Past where the herd contented feeds,<br />Past +where the furrows hide the grain,<br />For harvesting of sun and rain;<br />To +where Demeter patient stands<br />With longing lips and outstretched +hands,<br />Until the dawning of one face<br />Across the void of time +and space<br />Shall bring again her day of grace.<br />Rejoice, O Earth! +Rejoice and sing!<br />This is the promise of the Spring,<br />And this +the world’s remembering.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>A Lark’s Song</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Sweet, sweet!<br />I rise to greet<br />The sapphire sky<br />The +air slips by<br />On either side<br />As up I ride<br />On mounting +wing,<br />And sing and sing -<br />Then reach my bliss,<br />The sun’s +great kiss;<br />And poise a space<br />To see his face,<br />Sweet, +sweet,<br />In radiant grace,<br />Ah, sweet! ah, sweet!</p> +<p>Sweet, sweet!<br />Beneath my feet<br />My nestlings call:<br />And +down I fall<br />Unerring, true,<br />Through heaven’s blue;<br />And +haste to fill<br />Each noisy bill.<br />My brooding breast<br />Stills +their unrest.<br />Sweet, sweet,<br />Their quick hearts beat,<br />Safe +in the nest:<br />Ah, sweet, sweet, sweet!<br />Ah, sweet!</p> +<p>Sweet, sweet<br />The calling sky<br />That bids me fly<br />Up - +up - on high.<br />Sweet, sweet<br />The claiming earth;<br />It holds +my nest<br />And draws me down<br />To where Love’s crown<br />Of +priceless worth<br />Awaits my breast.<br />Sweet, sweet!<br />Ah, this +is best<br />And this most meet,<br />Sweet, sweet! ah, sweet!</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>‘Luvly Miss’</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Nobody thought of consequences. There was a lighted paraffin +lamp on the table and nothing else handy. Mrs Brown’s head +presented a tempting mark, and of course Mr Brown’s lengthy stay +at ‘The Three Fingers’ had something to do with it; but +nobody thought of Miss Brown, aged four, who was playing happily on +the floor, unruffled by the storm to which she was so well accustomed.</p> +<p>Mrs Brown ducked; there was a smash, a scream, and poor little Miss +Brown was in a blaze. The shock sobered the father and silenced +the mother. Miss Brown was extinguished with the aid of a table-cover, +much water, and many neighbours; but she was horribly burnt all over, +except her face.</p> +<p>* * * * *</p> +<p>I made Miss Brown’s acquaintance a few days later. She +was lying on a bed made up on two chairs, and was covered with cotton +wool. She had scarcely any pain, and could not move at all; and +the small face that peered out of what she called her “pitty warm +snow” was wan and drawn and had a far-away look in the dark eyes.</p> +<p>Miss Brown possessed one treasure, her ‘luvly miss.’ +I suppose I must call it a doll, though in what its claim to the title +consisted I dared not ask; Miss Brown would have deeply resented the +enquiry. It was a very large potato with a large and a small bulge. +Into the large bulge were inserted three pieces of fire-wood, the body +and arms of ‘luvly miss’; legs she had none.</p> +<p>How Miss Brown came by this treasure I never heard. She had +an impression that it “flied froo the winder” - I fancy +Mr Brown had a hand in the manufacture in one of his lucid moments; +but it was a treasure indeed and the joy of Miss Brown’s life. +She held long conversations with ‘luvly miss’ on all familiar +subjects; and apparently obtained much strange and rare information +from her. For example, Miss Brown and ‘luvly miss’ +in some previous stage of their existence had inhabited a large chimney-pot +together, “where it was always so warm and a bootie ‘mell +of cookin’.’” Also she had a rooted belief that +one day she and ‘luvly miss’ would be “hangels wiv’ +black weils and basticks.” This puzzled me for some time, +until I discovered it to be an allusion to the good deaconess who attended +her, and whom Mrs Brown in gratitude designated by this title.</p> +<p>Alas for little Miss Brown and her ‘luvly miss’! their +respective ends were drawing near. I went in one Friday, a week +or so after the accident, and found Mrs Brown in tears and despair, +and Miss Brown with a look of anguish on her poor little pinched face +that was bad to see. ‘Luvly Miss’ was no more.</p> +<p>It was Mr Brown again; or, to trace back the links of occasion, it +was the action of ‘The Three Fingers’ on Mr Brown’s +frail constitution. He had come in late, seen ‘luvly miss’ +on the table, and, with his usual heedlessness of consequence, had chucked +her into the dying embers where - alas that I should have to say it! +- she slowly baked. Little Miss Brown, when the miserable truth +was broken to her, neither wept nor remonstrated; she lay quite still +with a look of utter forsaken wretchedness on her tiny white face, and +moaned very softly for ‘luvly miss.’</p> +<p>I came face to face with this state of things and I confess it staggered +me. I knew Miss Brown too well to hope that any pink-and-white +darling from the toy-shop could replace ‘luvly miss,’ or +that she could be persuaded to admit even a very image of the dear departed +into her affections. Then, too, the doctor said Miss Brown had +but a few days at the most, perhaps only hours, to live; and comforted +she must be.</p> +<p>All at once I had an inspiration, and never in my life have I welcomed +one more. I knelt down by little Miss Brown and told her the story +of the Phoenix. I had not reckoned in vain upon her imagination: +would I “yerely and twooly bwing” her “werry own luvly +miss out of the ashes?” I lied cheerfully and hastened away +to the dust-bin, accompanied by Mrs Brown.</p> +<p>In a few minutes we returned with a pail of ashes, the ashes, of +course, of ‘luvly miss’ mingled with those of the cruel +fire which had consumed her. I danced solemnly round them, murmured +mysterious words, parted the ashes, and revealed the form of ‘luvly +miss.’ Love’s eyes were not sharp to mark a change, +and little Miss Brown’s misplaced faith in me was strong. +Never shall I forget the scream of joy which greeted the restored treasure, +or the relief with which I saw an expression of peace settle once more +on Miss Brown’s face.</p> +<p>I saw them again next day. Little Miss Brown was asleep in +her last little bed, still wrapped in the “pitty warm snow,” +and ‘luvly miss’ lay beside her.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<h2>Four Stories Told to Children</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<h3>The Story of the Dreadful Griffin.</h3> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>My Dear Children, - I am going to tell you a really breathless story +for your holiday treat. It will have to begin with the moral, +because everyone will be too much exhausted to read one at the end, +and as the moral is the only part that really matters, it is important +to come to it quite fresh.</p> +<p>We will, therefore, endeavour to learn from this story:-</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>If we fly at all, to fly <i>high.<br /></i>To be extremely polite.<br />To +be kind and grateful to cats and all other animals.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>All the trouble arose one day when the Princess (there is always +a Princess in a fairy-tale, you know) was playing in the garden with +her ball. She threw it up in the air much higher than usual and +it never came down again. There was an awful shriek, like ten +thousand steam-engines; all the ladies-in-waiting fainted in a row, +the inhabitants of the place went stone-deaf, and the Captain of the +Guard, who was in attendance with a company of his troops, seized the +Princess, put her on his horse, galloped away followed by his soldiers +to a castle on the top of a hill, deposited the Princess in the highest +room, and then and only then, told her what had happened.</p> +<p>“Miss,” he said, for he was so upset he forgot Court +etiquette, “Miss, your ball must have hit the Dreadful Griffin +in the eye (I noticed he was taking a little fly in the neighbourhood), +and that was the reason of the awful shriek. Well, Miss, the Dreadful +Griffin never was known to forgive anybody anything, so I snatched you +up quick before he could get at you and brought you to the Castle of +the White Cats. There are seventeen of these animals sitting outside +the door and twenty-seven more standing in the courtyard, so you’re +as safe as safe can be, for the Dreadful Griffin can’t look at +a white cat without getting the ague and then he shakes so a mouse wouldn’t +be afraid of him. And now, Miss, I must go back to your Royal +Pa, so I will wish you good-morning.”</p> +<p>Having made this long speech the Captain suddenly remembered the +Court etiquette, became very hot and red, went out of the room backwards, +and instantly fell over the seventeen cats who all swore at him, which +so confused the poor man that he rolled down the stairs and out into +the court where the twenty-seven cats were having rations of mouse-pie +served out to them; and the Captain rolled into the middle of the pie, +scalded himself badly with the gravy, and was thankful to jump on his +horse and ride away with his soldiers to report matters to the King.</p> +<p>The King was so pleased with his promptitude that he made him the +General of the Flying Squadron, which only fights in the air, and conferred +on him the medal of the Society for the Suppression of Superfluous Salamanders, +whereat the Captain was overjoyed.</p> +<p>But this is a digression, and I only told you because I wanted you +to see that virtue is always rewarded.</p> +<p>Now for the poor Princess.</p> +<p>Well, she cried a little, of course, but the cats brought her some +mouse-pie, which she found very good, and she was soon quite happy playing +with some of the kittens and nearly forgot all about the Dreadful Griffin; +but he did not forget about <i>her</i>, oh dear no! He flew after +the Captain when he galloped away with the Princess, but when he saw +the White Cats he shook with ague so fearfully that his teeth rolled +about in his mouth like billiard balls and he had to go and get a new +set before he could eat his dinner. Well, he was in a perfect +fury, and how to get at the Princess he did not know. He swallowed +several buckets of hot brimstone, rolled his head in a red flannel petticoat, +put his tail in a hot sand-bag, and went to bed hoping to cure the ague, +which he did completely, so that he was quite well next day and more +anxious to eat the Princess than ever.</p> +<p>Now next door to the Dreadful Griffin (that is, a hundred miles away) +there lived a Wicked Witch, and he went to consult her as to how he +might get at the Princess. When the Wicked Witch heard what a +sad effect White Cats had on the Griffin’s constitution she said +that she would have expected a Griffin of his coils to have had more +sense.</p> +<p>“Any slow-worm knows,” said the Wicked Witch, “that +cats love mice better than Princesses; therefore get a large sack of +fat mice, let them loose a little way from the castle, and when the +cats see them they will run after them, and you can eat the Princess.”</p> +<p>The Dreadful Griffin was so pleased with the Wicked Witch that he +presented her with a pair of fire-bricks and a hot-water tin, and then +flew away to the Purveyor of Mice, who lived in a town about seventy +miles away. He bought twelve hundred dozen fat mice of the best +quality, all the Purveyor had in stock that were home-grown, and flew +on with them to the castle. When he was a little way off he let +the mice out, expecting all the cats to arrive at once; but not a cat +appeared. They <i>heard</i> mice and they <i>smelt</i> mice, but +not a cat moved, for they were on their honour; so they kept guard and +licked their lips sadly. When the Griffin saw the last of the +twelve hundred dozen mice disappearing down the road with never a cat +after them, he was in a tremendous temper and flew away to the house +of the Wicked Witch, only stopping to pick up a steam engine which he +dropped through her roof, and then went home to bed. Next day +he remembered a friend of his called the Grumpy Giant, who lived six +doors away, that is, about a thousand miles, so he flew to ask his advice. +When the Giant heard his story, he said in the gruffest voice you ever +heard, “Mice is common, try sparrers” (by which you can +see that he was quite an uneducated person), and then he turned over +and went to sleep.</p> +<p>The Dreadful Griffin at once flew away to the Sparrow Preserves, +bought eleven thousand, and then proceeded to let them fly close to +the castle. Still not a cat moved. As the cats’ copy-book +well says, “Honour is dearer to cats than mice or birds,” +and all the kittens write this in round-hand as soon as they can do +lessons at all, and never forget it.</p> +<p>Well, I really dare not describe the state of mind the Griffin was +in; but he made the air so hot that all the people put on their thinnest +clothes, although it was the middle of winter. He flew home puffing +and snorting, and on the way he passed the house of the Amiable Answerer. +He went in and told his story, and his voice shook with rage. +The Amiable Answerer gave him a penny pink ice to cool him down, and +then said gently:-</p> +<p>“I think, dear Mr Griffin, that green spectacles would meet +your case. Then the cats which are now white would appear to you +green and . . . ”</p> +<p>But the Griffin was already half-way to a Watchmaker’s where +they sold glasses. He burst into the shop, frightened the watchmaker +so that he fell into the works of the watch he was mending and could +only be got out with the greatest difficulty, seized twelve pairs of +green spectacles, put them on all at once and flew towards the castle.</p> +<p>Now the Dreadful Griffin was one of those creatures who do not stop +to think, consequently he came to grief. White cats gave him the +ague, but green dogs made him cough most fearfully; and a little way +out of the town he met thirteen white poodles taking a walk, who of +course all looked bright green to the Dreadful Griffin. He coughed +so fearfully that all the twelve pairs of spectacles fell off his nose +and were smashed to bits, and his plan was spoilt once more.</p> +<p>No, I am not going to tell you what the Dreadful Griffin said and +did then, it is too terrible to speak of, but he had to keep in bed +for a week, and drink hot tar, and have his chest ironed with a steam +roller, and his nose greased with seven pounds of tallow candles; but +all his misfortunes did not cure him of wanting to eat the Princess. +When his cough was better, he went for a walk in the wood near which +he lived, to think out a new plan. Suddenly he heard something +croaking, and saw the Fat Frog sitting under a tree. Now the Dreadful +Griffin was so low in his mind that he wanted to tell someone his troubles, +so he told the Fat Frog.</p> +<p>“Don’t come near me,” said the Fat Frog when he +had finished, “for I hate heat. If you look under the fifth +tree from the end of the wood you’ll find a thin packet. +Put it in sixteen gallons of water and pour it over the cats, only mind +you shut your eyes first, and for goodness sake don’t come into +this wood any more, you dry up the moisture.”</p> +<p>The Griffin quite forgot to thank the Fat Frog, he was a Griffin +of <i>no</i> manners, but he didn’t forget to take the packet. +It was labelled ‘Reckitt’s,’ and when he put it in +the water all the water turned bright blue. Then he took the pail +in his claw, flew to the castle, shut his eyes and poured some of the +contents of the pail over the cats in the courtyard.</p> +<p>When he opened his eyes there were twenty-seven bright blue, damp, +depressed cats; and he passed them without any difficulty. He +shut his eyes, wriggled up the stairs, poured the remaining mixture +over the seventeen cats, who all turned as blue as the rest, and then +he burst open the door of the Princess’s room. Fortunately +there was a kind Fairy flying over the castle at that very moment, who, +seeing what was happening, changed the Princess into a flea so that +the Dreadful Griffin couldn’t see her anywhere.</p> +<p>No, if I couldn’t tell you before, I certainly must not attempt +now to describe the Griffin’s behaviour when he found the Princess +thus snatched from his jaws. He went grunting and bellowing and +screaming along; and just as he was stopping to take breath he heard +someone roaring with laughter, and saw a little yellow man sitting on +the top bough of a tree.</p> +<p>“Are you laughing at ME?” said the Dreadful Griffin (he +was so angry that he was quite polite). And the little man said +quite as politely that he certainly <i>was</i>.</p> +<p>“Why?” said the Dreadful Griffin, still fearfully polite.</p> +<p>“Because you’re such a green Griffin,” said the +yellow man; and he screamed with laughter again - “I know all +about it, you’ve blued the cats and now the Princess has greened +you. She’s turned into a flea, and you still want to eat +her, and it never occurred to you, you green old grampus of a Griffin, +that fleas like <i>cats</i>. I suppose the Princess flea wouldn’t +jump on to a tabby kitten, and you couldn’t swallow the kitten +- oh dear, no - of course not . . . .”</p> +<p>But the Griffin was gone. He went to the Zoo, found a tabby +kitten, though they are rare in that country, and flew back with it +to the Princess’s room.</p> +<p>He waited half an hour and then swallowed the kitten at one gulp; +but he instantly burst in four pieces, for the fluffy kitten tickled +his digestive organs so much that they cracked his sides and he died; +and the flea and the kitten came out quite unhurt, only a little damp.</p> +<p>Then a wonderful thing happened. The tabby kitten changed into +the little yellow man who had laughed at the Griffin. He grew, +and grew, and in a few minutes he was a handsome prince. His name +was Prince Orange Plushikins. One day a cruel witch whom he had +offended had changed him into an ugly yellow man, and had sworn that +he should only regain his shape if he was eaten by a Griffin when under +the form of a tabby kitten; which you know was precisely what happened. +Well, Prince Orange Plushikins at once asked the Princess flea to marry +him, and the minute the flea said “Yes,” the Princess reappeared. +She and the Prince were married next morning; and all the cats went +to the steam laundry and were washed and bleached and had their tails +crimped and their whiskers starched; and they danced at the wedding, +and everybody lived happily ever after.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h3>The Discontented Daffodils.</h3> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>They had the very loveliest home you can imagine, with beautiful +soft moss and grass to grow in, trees to form a cosy shelter from the +wind, and a dear little babbling stream to water them.</p> +<p>There were lots of daffodils in this pretty place, and nobody ever +discovered the nook to gather them. They rejoiced in the spring +sunshine and gentle breezes, the greeting of the birds, and the musical +chatter of the brook; then when their brief visit to the upper world +was over they nestled happily down in their warm mossy beds and slept +till April came again to wake them.</p> +<p>A little apart from the rest were four daffodils growing at the root +of a gnarled oak tree, and one fine sunshiny morning three of them took +it into their silly little heads that they were dull, the place was +dull, the other daffodils were dull, and they wanted a change.</p> +<p>It was mainly the fault of the cuckoo, for he was a grumbling, mischief-making +bird and used to spend a good deal of time talking to the daffodils. +This particular spring he had taken up his abode in the oak tree, and +was fond of talking of all the grand things he had seen, and a great +many he had not seen, for the cuckoo is a bird of fine imagination; +and at last, as I have already said, three of the daffodils made up +their minds that to be a flower and live in a wood was a very dreadful +thing, and not to be put up with any longer.</p> +<p>Now the cuckoo had told many strange tales about creatures with two +legs and beautiful coloured leaves which grew in an odd way, and feathers +only on their heads. They could not fly, but they could run about +from place to place, and dance and sing; and at last the daffodils decided +that they wished to be like these curious creatures, which the cuckoo +called <i>girls.</i></p> +<p>Then there were sad times in that sweet little nook under the oak +tree.</p> +<p>The naughty daffodils cried and quarrelled and bewailed their lot +all day long, till they made themselves and everybody else extremely +wretched. Their little sister shook her head at them, and scolded +and said that for her part she was not meant to have legs; but it was +all no use, the daffodils would not be quiet.</p> +<p>One day the Fairy Visitor who looked after the flowers in that part +heard the silly blossoms crying, and stopped to ask what was the matter. +When she heard the story she told them they were very foolish and discontented, +and that the cuckoo was a most mischievous bird and liked to get people +into trouble; but the daffodils would not listen. So knowing there +is nothing so likely to cure silly flower as to give them their own +silly way, she said - “Very well, my dears, you want to be girls, +and girls you shall be.”</p> +<p>With that she waved her wand over the three daffodils and in a twinkle +they were gone; in their places stood three tall pretty maidens dressed +in soft yellow silk frocks with green stockings and shoes. For +a minute they were too much astonished to speak, then clapping their +hands they laughed and skipped for joy, and wanted to kiss the old fairy +because they were so pleased at getting their own way; but the fairy +would not look at them, and stooped over the little flower now growing +all alone, saying kindly:-</p> +<p>“Well, little one, don’t you want to be a pretty maiden, +too?”</p> +<p>But the daffodil shook her head with great determination:-</p> +<p>“I don’t want legs and I won’t have legs. +I was meant to be a flower and a flower I will be, but if you could +keep that meddling, chattering cuckoo away from this tree for a time +I should be much obliged.”</p> +<p>And the fairy laughed and promised.</p> +<p>Meanwhile the three pretty maidens had set of hand in hand to seek +their fortunes.</p> +<p>They went singing and dancing over the meadows in the soft afternoon +sunshine, and thought how wise and clever they were to be girls instead +of little unnoticed flowers growing in a wood.</p> +<p>Presently they came to a house and stopped to ask whether they could +have a lodging for the night. There was no difficulty about it, +for that is a happy country where there is no money and everything belongs +to everybody, so the people of the house - an old man and woman - were +delighted to see the beautiful maidens and made them heartily welcome, +and the daffodils went to bed that night very happy and quite content +with the result of their experiment. When they came to undress, +however, they received a severe shock.</p> +<p>They were girls, real proper girls, they could chatter and eat and +sleep, for the fairy was not one to do things by halves; but when they +pulled off the dainty green shoes and stockings, they discovered that +although they had the prettiest little legs and feet and toes in the +world, they were quite green, the colour of daffodil leaves.</p> +<p>There wasn’t anything said about a “dear, darling, kind +old fairy” then, I can assure you.</p> +<p>The first daffodil said she was a wicked old witch. The second +said she was a horrible old woman; and the third said she knew the fairy +meant to pay them out, and she would like to scratch her. Then +they all set to work arguing and quarrelling and crying like silly babies, +when suddenly a familiar “Cuck-oo!” sounded in their ears, +and they saw our old acquaintance perched on the window sill.</p> +<p>He looked at the six little green feet, and his eyes twinkled; but +before he could speak the three angry maidens all began scolding him +at once, for they were delighted to have somebody fresh to find fault +with.</p> +<p>The cuckoo, being in some respects a philosopher, did not attempt +to interrupt, but when they were quite exhausted he said he really could +not see any reason for their distress. No one would ever wish +to see their feet, and they could always wear stockings. He added +that he had great news, and had come on purpose to bring it.</p> +<p>“The King of Silverland,” he said, “is coming with +all his court to hold high revel close to this place and celebrate the +coming of age of his three sons. These princes were all born at +once; and the king has decided to divide his kingdom into three equal +parts and leave his sons to rule while he retires to his country place +to study science. Now these Silver princes desire to marry three +princesses, sisters born at once like themselves; but they are very +hard to find, and the king is advertising everywhere for triplets. +When I heard this I set off at once to tell you.”</p> +<p>The three maidens were so much interested and excited that they forgot +their troubles and began to sing.</p> +<p>The cuckoo was pleased with his success, but told them they must +go to bed and to sleep, and he would fetch them in the morning to show +them the way to the King of Silverland’s court.</p> +<p>Next morning, although he arrived quite early, the maidens were up +and ready for him, looking very pretty in their yellow frocks. +The kind people of the house were quite sorry to part with their guests +and begged them to come again, and the daffodil maidens set off in high +spirits, following the cuckoo as he flew slowly ahead across the sunlit +meadows. About noon they came in sight of the king’s court. +The gorgeous tents were of cloth of silver fastened with silver ropes; +fountains were playing in the open spaces, and flags flying everywhere. +The daffodils attracted a great deal of attention as they made their +way, blushing and a little frightened, through the crowds of soldiers, +court ladies and attendants. At the door of the largest and most +gorgeous tent stood three beautiful princes dressed in silver.</p> +<p>When they saw the maidens approaching, hand in hand, they gave a +cry of joy and ran forward to greet them.</p> +<p>“Dear beautiful princesses,” they cried, “welcome +to our court! May we ask your names and the country you come from?”</p> +<p>The cuckoo, perched on a tent-pole hard by, answered for them. +“These are the Princesses Daffodil, daughters of the great King +of Goldenland. They have come very many days’ journey to +be present at your revels.”</p> +<p>Think of the cuckoo telling such a dreadful story and those naughty +daffodils not contradicting him!</p> +<p>When the princes heard the cuckoo’s words they were almost +beside themselves with joy, for, as it happened, there was a real King +of Goldenland (but the cuckoo did not know it), and he had three daughters +of the same age whom the Silver princes were anxious to see. They +dropped on one knee, kissed the maidens’ hands very prettily, +and then led them, blushing and delighted, into the royal tent.</p> +<p>The king was out, but the queen received the daffodils very graciously.</p> +<p>“Triplet,” she said significantly, and it was the princes’ +turn to blush.</p> +<p>Then the young people visited all the beautiful tents, and the great +ballroom where there was to be a ball that night, and the princes whispered +to the maidens that they would dance with no one else. When they +had tasted the cowslip wine from the fountains and eaten lots of wonderful +sweets the daffodils declared they were quite tired; so the princes +put them into hammocks with little monkeys to swing them, and the happy +hours wore on until the evening.</p> +<p>The maidens had had a beautiful tent assigned to them by the queen, +and they found lovely dresses of cloth of gold with shoes and stockings +to match, all ready for them. They looked so beautiful when they +were dressed that the colour of their feet did not seem to matter at +all.</p> +<p>All that night they danced with the princes, and everyone was charmed +with their beauty and grace, especially the king, who had not received +a single answer to his advertisement. At the great banquet which +followed the ball the betrothal of the Silver princes to the Golden +princesses was solemnly announced, and their health drunk amid great +rejoicing.</p> +<p>The dawn was red in the east before the festivities were over, and +the daffodils went to bed happier than they had ever been before, happier +than they ever would be again. A new and awful trouble of which +they had never dreamt was about to befall them.</p> +<p>When the princes came to meet their betrothed next morning the maidens +noticed that, although very affectionate, they were downcast and somewhat +silent. At last, after a great deal of questioning, the reason +came out. The king and queen had both had exactly the same curious +dream, and this strange occurrence had upset their majesties very much. +They both dreamt that one of the princesses, as they believed them to +be, had six toes on each foot; and as no monstrosity could ever share +the throne of Silverland they demanded to see the princesses’ +little feet with their own eyes, so as to be quite sure they all had +only the right number of toes.</p> +<p>When the princes with many blushes broke this news to their lady-loves, +they each gave a short loud scream and fainted.</p> +<p>Their lovers, of course, put this down to extreme modesty, and were +much affected by such proper conduct; but when they succeeded in restoring +them to consciousness they were not a little disturbed to find that +the maidens positively refused to show their feet.</p> +<p>Imagine the grief of the poor princes! The king had said quite +positively that not one of the princes should marry till he, the queen, +and the councillors of the kingdom, had seen the bride’s feet; +and the maidens now declared that they would never never show them.</p> +<p>Matters were in this awkward state when the cuckoo appeared on the +scene. He had as usual contrived to find out what was going on, +and now announced that he had a private message for the Golden princesses, +if they would take him to their tent.</p> +<p>When they were alone the daffodils began to cry their eyes out, and +the cuckoo to try and comfort them.</p> +<p>“Green feet,” he said, “are very uncommon and would +no doubt be welcomed as a great rarity.”</p> +<p>But the maidens sobbed on.</p> +<p>“The princes love you so much they will think your little feet +the most beautiful colour in the world.”</p> +<p>But they would not listen.</p> +<p>“I heard the king and queen say that green was their favourite +colour,” he remarked next.</p> +<p>This was pure invention on the cuckoo’s part, but the daffodils +were somewhat cheered, and after a great deal of talking the cuckoo +persuaded them to give in and consent to show their feet, as they could +not possibly marry the princes without. Besides, perhaps when +the king found their toes were all right he would think the colour rather +ornamental than otherwise. So the princes were told to their great +joy that the princesses had consented to show their feet; and the king +and queen, on being informed, summoned a Cabinet Council for the next +morning so that their ministers might be present at the counting of +the princesses’ toes.</p> +<p>Meantime the real Goldenland princesses had arrived near the camp; +but as they and their suite were very tired they resolved not to visit +the Silver king till the next day, and commanded that no one should +mention their arrival.</p> +<p>That night the daffodils never slept, for fear once more took possession +of them. They scrubbed their feet, but the fairy’s dye would +not come off; then they scraped them, but that hurt very much and did +no good. Finally they chalked them, but that was no use at all; +so they had to give it up in despair, and hope for the best.</p> +<p>Next morning two of the court ushers came to escort them to the Cabinet +Council. Poor daffodils! Their eyes were red with weeping, +and they could scarcely stand for terror when they entered the tent +where the examination was to take place.</p> +<p>In the middle on a raised dais sat the king and queen, on their right +stood the three princes, on their left the councillors in their robes +of state. Three chairs were placed for the maidens, and they were +politely but firmly requested to take off their shoes and stockings.</p> +<p>Blushing crimson the daffodils slowly and unwillingly took off their +shoes. Then they cried a little and said they really truly couldn’t, +but it was no use, and the stockings had to follow, and six little green +feet were exposed to view.</p> +<p>“They wear two pairs, I see,” said the queen, who was +a little short-sighted. “Very sensible, I’m sure, +in this damp place. Take off the other pair, my dears.”</p> +<p>But the daffodils only hung their heads and wept.</p> +<p>Then one of the councillors cried out, in a horrified tone - “Their +feet are green! They are monstrosities!” and at that very +moment heralds were heard outside announcing the arrival of the Princesses +of Goldenland.</p> +<p>Now the king was a shrewd old gentleman, and the true state of affairs +suddenly flashed upon him. “They are impostors!” he +cried, rising to his feet, “turn the deceitful minxes out.”</p> +<p>At that the maidens rose and fled. They never stopped for shoes +or stockings, but ran like hunted hares out of the tent across the fields; +and when the people saw their little green feet a great shout of laughter +went up, in which the king and the princes joined. As for the +daffodils, they ran and ran and ran, not daring even to look behind +them, till they suddenly stopped for want of breath; and where do you +think they were? Why in their old home under the oak tree. +Most of the daffodils had gone to sleep, but a few were left, and among +them their little sister. At her side stood the fairy.</p> +<p>“Well, my dears, do you like being girls?” and there +was a twinkle in her eye as she spoke.</p> +<p>But the daffodils were sobbing too bitterly to answer, and the fairy +had a kind heart and did not press the question. “Would +you be content to be daffodils again?” she asked, and smiled at +them sweetly.</p> +<p>They murmured a thankful “Yes”; the fairy waved her wand, +and in a trice the maidens were gone and there were three more flowers, +very pale faded ones, growing under the gnarled oak tree. Poor +discontented daffodils! They had to pay a heavy price for their +folly.</p> +<p>The cuckoo came back time after time, and never wearied of teasing +them; and their little sister made many very true but disagreeable remarks +on the extreme silliness of being discontented with one’s surroundings.</p> +<p>Perhaps by next spring things may be better; but of this you may +be quite sure, no amount of cuckoos will ever persuade the flowers in +that nook to be anything but what nature intended them to be - sweet +little daffodils.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h3>The Fairy Fluffikins</h3> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>The Fairy Fluffikins lived in a warm woolly nest in a hole down an +old oak tree. She was the sweetest, funniest little fairy you +ever saw. She wore a little, soft, fluffy brown dress, and on +her head a little red woolly cap; she had soft red hair and the brightest, +naughtiest, merriest, sharpest brown eyes imaginable.</p> +<p>What a life she led the animals! Fairy Fluffikins was a sad +tease; she would creep into the nests where the fat baby dormice were +asleep in bed while Mamma dormouse nodded over her knitting and Papa +smoked his little acorn pipe; and she would tickle the babies till they +screamed with laughter and nearly rolled out of bed, and Mamma scolded, +and Papa said in a gruff voice - “What a plague you are, you little +dors; go to sleep this minute or I will fetch my big stick.”</p> +<p>And then the babies would shake, for they were afraid of the big +stick; and naughty Fairy Fluffikins would dance off to find some fresh +piece of mischief.</p> +<p>One night she had fine fun. She found a little dead mouse in +a field; and at first she was sorry for the mouse, and thought she would +bury it and plant a daisy on its grave; but then an idea struck her. +She hunted about till she found a piece of long, strong grass, and then +she took the little mouse, tied the piece of grass round its tail, and +ran away with it to the big tree where the Ancient Owl lived. +There was a little hole at the bottom of the tree and into it Fairy +Fluffikins crept, leaving the mouse outside in the moonlight. +Presently she heard a gruff voice in the tree saying -</p> +<p>“I smell mouse, I smell mouse.” Then there was +a swoop of wings, and Fairy Fluffikins promptly drew the mouse into +the little hole and stuffed its tail into her mouth so that she might +not be heard laughing; and the gruff voice said angrily -</p> +<p>“Where’s that mouse gone? I smelt mouse, I know +I smelt mouse!”</p> +<p>She grew tired of this game after a few times, so she left the mouse +in the hole and crept away to a new one. She really was a naughty +fairy. She blew on the buttercups so that they thought the morning +breeze had come to wake them up, and opened their cups in a great hurry. +She buzzed outside the clover and made it talk in its sleep, so that +it said in a cross, sleepy voice - “Go away, you stupid busy bee, +and don’t wake me up in the middle of the night.”</p> +<p>She pulled the tail of the nightingale who was singing to his lady-love +in the hawthorn bush, and he lost his place in his song and nearly tumbled +over backwards into the garden. Then to her joy she met an elderly, +domestic puss taking an evening walk with a view to field-mice.</p> +<p>Here was sport. Fluffikins hid in the grass and squeaked; and +when the elderly cat came tearing up she pulled his whiskers and flew +away (I forgot to tell you that she had little, soft wings), and the +elderly cat jumped and said -</p> +<p>“Mouse-traps and mince-meat! Fancy a cat of my age and +experience taking a bat for a mouse! But by my claws I heard a +mouse’s squeak.”</p> +<p>Fairy Fluffikins often met the poor elderly cat, and always led him +some dreadful dance, now and then taking a ride on his back into the +bargain, till he thought he must have got the nightmare.</p> +<p>One day Fairy Fluffikins was well paid out for some of her naughtiness. +She was flying away from a tree where she had just wrapped a sleeping +bat’s head up in a large cobweb, when she heard the sweep of wings, +felt a sharp nip - and in less time than it takes to tell found herself +in the nest of the Ancient Owl.</p> +<p>“My wig!” said the Ancient Owl, much surprised, “I +thought you were a bat.” And he called his wife and three +children to look.</p> +<p>Now when Fairy Fluffikins saw five pairs of large round eyes blinking +and staring at her she lost her head and cried out - “Please, +please, Mr Ancient Owl, don’t be angry with me and I will never +play tricks with mice any more,” and so told the Ancient Owl what +he had never even suspected before.</p> +<p>Then the Ancient Owl was MOST DREADFULLY ANGRY and read Fairy Fluffikins +a long sermon about the wickedness of deceiving Ancient Owls. +The sermon took two hours and a half; and when it was over all the owls +hooted at her and pecked her; and Fairy Fluffikins was very glad indeed +when at last Mrs Ancient Owl gave her a push and said -</p> +<p>“Go along, you impertinent brown minx,” and she was able +to go out into the night.</p> +<p>Even this sad adventure did not cure Fairy Fluffikins of getting +into mischief - although she never teased the owls any more, you may +be sure of that - she took to tormenting the squirrels instead. +She used to find their stores of nuts and carry them away and fill the +holes with pebbles; and this, when you are a hard-working squirrel with +a large family to support, is very trying to the temper. Then +she would tie acorns to their tails; and she would clap her hands to +frighten them, and pull the baby-squirrels’ ears; till at last +they offered a reward to anyone who could catch Fairy Fluffikins and +bring her to be punished.</p> +<p>No one caught Fairy Fluffikins; but she caught herself, as you shall +hear.</p> +<p>She was poking about round a haystack one night, trying to find something +naughty to do, when she came upon a sweet little house with pretty wire +walls and a wooden door standing invitingly open. In hopped Fluffikins, +thinking she was going to have some new kind of fun. There was +a little white thing dangling from the roof, and she laid hold of it. +Immediately there was a bang; the wooden door slammed; and Fluffikins +was caught.</p> +<p>How she cried and stamped and pushed at the door, and promised to +be a good fairy and a great many other things! But all to no purpose: +the door was tight shut, and Fluffikins was not like some fortunate +fairies who can get out of anywhere.</p> +<p>There she remained, and in the morning one of the labourers found +her, and, thinking she was some kind of dormouse, he carried her home +to his little girl; and if you call on Mary Ann Smith you will see Fairy +Fluffikins there still in a little cage. They give her nuts and +cheese and bread, and all the things she doesn’t like, and there +is no one to tease and no mischief to get into; so if there is a miserable +little Fairy anywhere it is Fairy Fluffikins, and I’m not sure +it doesn’t serve her quite right.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h3>The Story of the Tinkle-Tinkle.</h3> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Once upon a time there lived a Tinkle-Tinkle. I cannot tell +you what he was like, because no man knows, not even the Tinkle-Tinkle +himself. Sometimes he lived on the ground, sometimes in a tree, +sometimes in the water, sometimes in a cave; and I can’t tell +you what he lived on, for no man knows, not even the Tinkle-Tinkle himself.</p> +<p>One day the Tinkle-Tinkle was going through a wood, when he heard +a piteous weeping. He stopped, for he was a kindly Tinkle-Tinkle, +and found two small dormice sobbing under a tree because they had been +cruelly deserted by their parents. He wiped their eyes tenderly +and took them to his cave home; but I cannot tell you how he went, for +no man knows, not even the Tinkle-Tinkle. However, when he got +there he put the dormice to bed in his grandmother’s boots, for +which he had never found any use before, and fed them on periwinkles +and tea, and was very kind to them; and when they grew older he bought +them caps and aprons, and they became the Tinkle-Tinkle’s housemaid +and parlourmaid.</p> +<p>Now I must tell you that it was a great grief to the Tinkle-Tinkle +not to know what he was, or how he lived, or where he was going to; +and it often made him depressed, but he always concealed it from the +dormice, appearing a most cheerful and contented creature.</p> +<p>One day he found a poor green bird lying on the ground with its leg +broken. Fortunately Tinkle-Tinkle had his grandmother’s +black silk reticule with him which had never been of any service to +him before. He gently placed the green bird in the bottom and +carried it to the cave.</p> +<p>The dormice laid the poor sufferer on a soft bed and put the broken +leg up carefully in plaster of Paris; and they nursed the green bird +with the greatest attention so that it was soon well enough to hop about +on crutches; and it sang so beautifully that all the inhabitants round +gave it money, and its fame spread abroad; but it was so tenderly attached +to the Tinkle-Tinkle and the dormice that it would not leave them.</p> +<p>Now it happened on a certain evening that the Tinkle-Tinkle was travelling +over the sea, when suddenly in the depths he caught sight of a most +beautiful Creature. It was all sorts of colours - white, rosy +pink, and deep crimson, and pale blue fading into white and gold. +It had no face but a bright light; and it had quantities of beautiful +iridescent wings, like the rainbow; and the most lovely voice you ever +heard, like the sighing of the waves in the hollow of the sea.</p> +<p>The Tinkle-Tinkle was so astonished and entranced that he stopped, +and the beautiful Creature cried out to him, and its voice made Tinkle-Tinkle +remember a dream he had once had of sunshine, and forest trees, and +the song of birds; and the Creature said, “Ah, Tinkle-Tinkle! +you are lonely and perplexed and sad, and you do not know whence you +came nor why you are here; but the dormice know and the green bird knows, +and I know, and we are glad for your being. Go on, Tinkle-Tinkle, +and do not sorrow, for some day you shall come back to me, and I will +wrap you in my wings and take you where you belong, and then you will +understand.”</p> +<p>When the Tinkle-Tinkle heard this he was glad with a new strange +gladness, and he went back to his cave; but not alone, for the spirit +of hope went with him.</p> +<p>The Tinkle-Tinkle had one gift - he could sing - how, no man knew, +not even the Tinkle-Tinkle himself; and this is how he discovered his +gift.</p> +<p>One day in a secluded spot in the forest he found a dying stag, and +the Tinkle-Tinkle was moved with great compassion and yet could do nothing.</p> +<p>The great stag’s head drooped lower and lower till even the +sun melted in a mist of pity, and the trees sighed, and the breezes +hushed their voices. Then suddenly the Tinkle-Tinkle crept close +and began to sing, why or how he knew not. As he sang, the birds +and the stream were silenced and the breezes ceased, and the great stag’s +breathing grew less and less laboured, and his eyes brightened, and +presently he rose slowly to his feet and paced away to join the rest +of the herd, and the Tinkle-Tinkle went with him.</p> +<p>When the stag’s companions heard the story, they wept for all +that had befallen their leader, but rejoiced also and blessed the Tinkle-Tinkle; +and he sang once more for them, and the Star-spirits leaned out of their +bright little windows to listen, and the night was glad.</p> +<p>Many were the adventures of the Tinkle-Tinkle, and countless the +creatures he cheered and helped, yet he never fancied himself any use +or knew why he was in the world. He brought home a poor old crab +without a claw, and the green bird and the dormice found a hook and +screwed it in, and the poor old crab used to carry parcels for the neighbours; +but he still lived with the Tinkle-Tinkle.</p> +<p>Another time it was a snail with a broken shell; for him they built +a beautiful little house, and he made little rush brooms and sold them +to the passers-by; but he lived ever after close to the Tinkle-Tinkle’s +front door.</p> +<p>So it went on till all the Tinkle-Tinkle’s homes were full +of strange occupants, and he began to feel very old and worn and weary. +Then he remembered the promise of the beautiful Creature, and went slowly +over the sea hoping the time had come for it to be fulfilled, and it +had. The beautiful Creature stretched out its lovely rose and +purple wings and wrapped the Tinkle-Tinkle in their warm soft greatness, +and bore him down and down through the depths till they came to the +Great Gate. At the beautiful Creature’s voice it swung slowly +back, and they passed down the Blue Pathway, which is all ice, cut and +carved into lovely pinnacles and spires, very blue with the blue of +the summer sky and the southern seas. The Tinkle-Tinkle could +just see it from between the beautiful Creature’s wings, stretching +away in the blue distance, and at the end one star.</p> +<p>Presently - and though the time had been one thousand years it had +not seemed long to the Tinkle-Tinkle - they came out into a beautiful +place that was nothing but light, and the beautiful Creature set the +Tinkle-Tinkle down; he looked around him and saw many other Tinkle-Tinkles, +and he knew them for what they were and loved their beauty; and the +Creature gently swept one of its purple pinions across him, and the +Tinkle-Tinkle took form. He had many, many little soft, strong +hands and many little white feet, and long sweeping wings and a face +which shone with something of the light of the beautiful Creature; and +the Tinkle-Tinkle saw and understood and sang for joy.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<p>End of the Project Gutenberg eBook The Grey Brethren</p> +<p>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE GREY BRETHREN ***</p> +<pre> + +******This file should be named grybr10h.htm or grybr10h.zip****** +Corrected EDITIONS of our EBooks get a new NUMBER, grybr11h.htm +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, grybr10ah.htm + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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