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- The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Story Of a Dewdrop, by J. R. Macduff D.D.
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-<pre>
-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Story of a Dewdrop, by J. R. Macduff
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
-
-
-Title: The Story of a Dewdrop
-
-Author: J. R. Macduff
-
-Release Date: November 14, 2006 [EBook #19809]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF A DEWDROP ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Janet Blenkinship
-and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
-http://www.pgdp.net
-
-
-
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
-
-<p><br /></p>
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/imgcover.jpg" width="404" height="550" alt="Nightingale" title="Nightingale" /></div>
-
-<p><br /></p>
-<p><a name="frontis" id="frontis"></a></p>
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img002.jpg" width="399" height="550" alt="Nightingale" title="Nightingale" /></div>
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img003.jpg" width="399" height="550" alt="Nightingale" title="Nightingale" /></div>
-<p><br /></p>
-
-<h1><span class="smcap">The
-Story
-of a
-Dewdrop</span></h1>
-
-<h2><span class="smcap">J. R. Macduff D D</span></h2>
-
-<h4><span class="smcap">With</span>
-<span class="smcap">FOUR COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS</span></h4>
-
-<p class='center'><span class="smcap">London Marcus Ward &amp; Co Belfast</span><br />
-1881</p>
-
-
-
-<hr style="width: 65%;" />
-<h2><a name="FOREWORDS" id="FOREWORDS"></a>FOREWORDS.</h2>
-
-<blockquote><p>To Charlie.</p>
-
-
-<div class="figleft"><img src="images/img004.jpg" alt="A" title="A" /></div><p> Dewdrop is a small affair;
-and the world would not be
-the least interested, nor a bit
-the wiser, by knowing how I come affectionately
-to dedicate the story I have
-written about it to <i>you</i>. I may tell you
-it was one line of eleven words, read
-one night from a musty old volume of
-last century, which suggested it.</p>
-
-<p>Everybody must have their play-hours
-and moments of recreation. I
-think I have gone back to other and
-more serious work all the better after
-writing a page or two of what follows.
-I am happy thus to have had my little
-holiday along with you in this ideal
-region of quaint conceits.</p>
-
-<p>Shall we hope that others may share
-our pleasure?</p>
-
-<p>Let us try.</p></blockquote>
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img005.jpg" alt="bird" title="bird" /></div>
-
-
-<hr style="width: 65%;" />
-<p><br /></p>
-<h1>The Story of<br />
-A DEWDROP.</h1>
-
-<p><br /><br /></p>
-<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
-
-<div class='center'>
-<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents">
-<tr><td align='left'><a href="#FOREWORDS">FOREWORDS.</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_THE_FIRST">CHAPTER THE FIRST.</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_THE_SECOND">CHAPTER THE SECOND.</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_THE_THIRD">CHAPTER THE THIRD.</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td align='left'><a href="#AFTERWORDS">AFTERWORDS.&mdash;An Angel's Whisper.</a></td></tr>
-</table></div>
-<p><br /><br /></p>
-
-<h2><i>List of</i><br />
-ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2>
-
-<p><br /><br /></p>
-
-<div class='center'>
-<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="List of Illustrations">
-<tr valign='top'><td align='left'><i>The Procession of the Queen of<br />the Morning</i> <a href='#Page_41'>(p. 41)</a>,</td><td align='right'><a href='#frontis'><i>Frontispiece.</i></a></td></tr>
-<tr><td align='left'><i>The Bird-talk and its surroundings,</i></td><td align='right'><a href='#birdtalk'>14</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td align='left'><i>The Nightingale and the Dewdrop,</i></td><td align='right'><a href='#Nightingale'>19</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td align='left'><i>The Ascent of the Million Army,</i></td><td align='right'><a href='#Ascent'>53</a></td></tr>
-</table></div>
-<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-<p><br /><br /></p>
-
-
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/imghr.jpg" alt="Ascent" title="Ascent" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_THE_FIRST" id="CHAPTER_THE_FIRST"></a>CHAPTER THE FIRST.</h2>
-
-
-<div class="figleft"><img src="images/img007.jpg" alt="T" title="T" /></div>
-<p>hree birds of very favourable
-repute in these regions
-met together one evening&mdash;a
-Thrush, a Lark, and a Nightingale.
-And all for what purpose, think you?
-It was a queer one&mdash;to hold a solemn
-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>conference about a <span class="smcap">Dewdrop</span>!</p>
-
-<p>Yes, it must be allowed it was an
-original thought which brought these
-three feathered friends thus into council;
-and a pretty talk to be sure they had
-about it.</p>
-
-<p>They selected, as an appropriate time
-for preliminaries, the close of a bright
-day in early summer; just when things
-in outer nature were looking their best.
-The snowdrop and crocus had long ago
-hid their faces to make way for more
-ambitious rivals. That always pleasant
-season was a great way past, when you
-see the drowsy plants (after being
-tucked up&mdash;it may have been for weeks&mdash;in
-a white snowy coverlet), first<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>
-roused from their sound winter sleep,
-yawning and stretching themselves, and
-rubbing their little eyes, and looking;
-wonderingly about them, saying&mdash;"What!
-is it now time to wake up
-and dress?" The tree foliage was
-approaching, if it had not already
-reached, perfection; all the mosses,
-too, looked so green and fresh; and
-how prettily the various ferns were
-uncoiling themselves among the rocks
-and shady nooks by the stream;
-while on this particular occasion
-the very Sun seemed to have coaxed
-his setting beams into the production
-of most gorgeous colouring. Belts of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>
-golden cloud were streaking the western
-sky; such long trails of them, that it
-was impossible to say whether the great
-ball of fire, which gave them their
-glory, had actually gone down behind
-the horizon, or was just about to do so.
-At all events, it was unmistakably
-<i>sundown</i>: though the scene was far
-removed from northern latitudes, it
-might be designated by the familiar
-Scotch "gloamin'." The groves, and
-dells, and hedgerows, which had kept
-up a goodly concert the livelong day,
-were now silent. Their winged tenants
-had, one after another, slunk to their
-nests, with very tired throats. They<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>
-had left, apparently, all, or nearly all
-the music to the aforesaid brook in the
-dell. A stone's-throw higher up the
-valley, this latter, fed by recent rains,
-rattled in gleeful style over a bed of
-white and grey pebbles&mdash;the tiny
-limpid waves chasing one another as
-if they were playing at hide-and-seek
-amid the sedges, king-cups, and rushes.
-But it had now reached a quieter spot
-where, however, it still kept up a gentle,
-soothing evensong, a lullaby peculiar
-to itself, as if it wanted to hush the
-little birds asleep in their varied leafy
-cradles. The very cattle, that had
-been seen lying lazily out of the heat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>
-under the beech-trees, had ceased their
-lowings. In fact, Nature had rung
-her curfew bell, and the sentry stars
-were coming out, one by one, to keep
-their night-watch.</p>
-
-<hr style="width: 45%;" />
-
-<p>Let me first, however, say a word
-about this Dewdrop, which had awakened
-so much curiosity as to gather
-three representative members of the
-bird-world together.</p>
-
-<p>It was a great puzzle, this Dewdrop
-was. It was a puzzle where it came
-from; what it had come about; and a
-still greater puzzle, what it was made
-of. It was evidently a visitor from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>
-some unknown land. Very quietly,
-too, it had travelled to its adopted
-country. These birds, in succession
-(with the curiosity birds generally have),
-had endeavoured by stealth to track its
-dainty fairy footsteps, and learn its
-past history. But it was to no
-purpose. However, there it was; not
-perhaps making its appearance every
-night, but almost every night. And,
-then, it invariably managed to perch
-itself so daintily on the tip of a rose-leaf.
-All three birds agreed that it had
-substantiated its claim in this, to be
-decidedly a lover of the beautiful.
-The leaf, moreover, which it made its<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>
-resting-place, was not only pretty in
-itself, of a subdued delicate green, but
-it hung right over a full-blown rose,
-with a mass of pink leaves. The
-Dewdrop quite seemed as if it had said
-to its own little personality regarding
-this round coral ball (or cup, if you
-prefer to call it so)&mdash;"Well, I shall
-have a good look at you at all events,
-from my cozy couch, the last thing
-at night, and the first thing in the
-morning."<br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a name="birdtalk" id="birdtalk"></a></p>
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img015.jpg" width="400" height="550" alt="birdtalk" title="birdtalk" /></div>
-
-
-<p><br /><br />I somehow really believe the rose
-must have heard this complimentary
-speech, or at all events, by some
-instinctive way, have correctly surmised<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>
-what the Dewdrop was thinking about;
-for, in the last fading, glimmering
-light, it covered up its face so coyly
-with both hands, and blushed a deeper
-and deeper crimson.</p>
-
-<hr style="width: 45%;" />
-
-<p>But to return to the birds. It was
-just outside a copsy retreat that these
-three winged acquaintances met. The
-Thrush, with his brown plumage and
-yellow spotted neck, being the biggest,
-and, if anything, the more talkative of
-the three, began the conversation.</p>
-
-<p>The consultation was a long and
-animated one, too long indeed to
-report in full, besides there being a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>
-considerable amount of superfluous talk,
-what in bird-language is called chattering;
-but I can give the close of it.</p>
-
-<p>"Well," said the Thrush, summing
-up the discussion, "I must now be off
-to bed&mdash;at all events after providing
-something suitable in the way of
-supper for my wife and family, and
-seeing them made tolerably comfortable
-for the night. And so too must you,"
-he added, with a quizzical look to the
-Lark, whose left eye was beginning to
-droop, as he stood, with one leg up, in
-the significant fashion our woodland
-friends indulge in when they indicate
-that they are tired. "We shall leave<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>
-to you, Bird of the night"&mdash;were his last
-words, as he addressed the Nightingale&mdash;"we
-shall leave to you the first
-interview with this little sparkling
-thing from fairyland, or whatever other
-land it has quitted. We shall defer
-<i>our</i> visit till to-morrow."</p>
-
-<p>So away the two brown-winged companions
-sped, I know not exactly where.
-But, though both in a great hurry to get
-home, they judiciously deemed, as I
-have just observed, that they might
-do a trifle of purveying business on
-the way, by picking up a few seeds; or
-if a manageable slug or grub presented
-itself, so much the better. I had not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>
-the curiosity to follow them; but I
-believe they each contrived to carry
-home a dainty supper; the one to the
-hole of a big ash-tree, the other to its
-nest in the furrow beside some tufts of
-golden gorse. It may be interesting,
-however, to know, by way of completing
-their domestic history, that both had
-promising young households&mdash;the one
-of three, and the other of four&mdash;to
-support; and the wee downy children
-had arrived too at a very ravenous age,
-with any capacity for food, which
-indeed amounted, at times, on the part
-alike of father and mother, to a trial of
-temper.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>The Nightingale, now left all alone
-for the discharge of a somewhat novel
-duty, seemed at first to feel his
-responsibility: perhaps a feeling allied
-to nervousness in the human being.
-But he was a knowing little fellow too;
-and resolved to proceed in the most
-alluring as well as discreet way to his
-task. Being fully acquainted with the
-position of the rose-leaf, he took wing,
-and settled himself on the branch of a
-birch close by. Without any possible
-warning, he forthwith began (it was the
-best way of getting over these nervous
-sensations) to pipe one of his very best
-and most enchanting songs. He had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>
-somewhat unwarrantably indulged the
-expectation that he would get an
-immediate response from the Dewdrop.
-He had however, in this, to exercise
-the virtue of patience.<br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a name="Nightingale" id="Nightingale"></a></p>
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img021.jpg" width="404" height="550" alt="Nightingale" title="Nightingale" /></div>
-
-
-<p><br /><br />"Answer me, pretty Dewdrop," he
-said in his most bewitching trill.</p>
-
-<p>But the Dewdrop was silent. It
-appeared to pay not the slightest
-attention.</p>
-
-<p>Another chirrup and mellifluous
-note, and then, coming to a lower and
-still nearer spray of the birch-tree,
-quite within whispering distance:</p>
-
-<p>"Pretty little noiseless thing," continued
-the Nightingale, "what are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>
-you? Where were you born? Have
-you any father or mother? or are you
-an orphan? My two brother birds
-spoke of your brightness and lustre.
-My eyes are tolerably good; but I
-confess I can see none of these things
-about you; you seem rather somehow
-to appear sad, though I trust I am
-wrong."</p>
-
-<p>"I have reason to be sad," at last
-replied the Dewdrop, in the quietest,
-mildest, silveriest voice imaginable,
-and trembling with an emotion real or
-pretended. "You call me a Dewdrop,
-but in truth I am not, I am a teardrop;
-a teardrop which fell from the sky."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>"A teardrop from the sky!" said
-the Nightingale, in undisguised astonishment.
-"I cannot comprehend you.
-Pray tell me what you mean?"</p>
-
-<p>"It is true, despite of your surprise,"
-said the other. "The Sky always
-weeps at the loss of the Sun; and no
-wonder. I tell you again, believe it
-or not as you please, I am one of the
-tears it shed to-night. You need not,
-however, grieve for me. I shall be all
-right" (the tiny voice rising to a
-falsetto) "when the Sun appears again.
-Indeed, I venture to say, you will
-hardly know me then. <i>That</i> I am
-sure of."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>"Ay!" said the Nightingale, with
-a sceptical, incredulous chirp.</p>
-
-<p>"Yes! I always get bright, that I
-do, when the Sun shows himself. Look
-up to those stars, glittering in the sky.
-Do you know how they twinkle so?
-I am myself neither scholar nor
-philosopher, and have no pretensions
-either way. But a confidential friend
-once told me, and I quite believe him,
-that it is because they are either suns
-themselves, or else get light from that
-beautiful Sun you saw some time ago
-tingeing the sky with red and gold.
-<i>My Sun</i>," continued the dwarf thing of
-mystery, raising its tones, with a sort<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>
-of conscious pride. (If it had been
-aught else but a beaded drop, I would
-have described it standing on tip-toe
-as it said this.) It had, however, fairly
-exhausted itself with a very unwonted
-effort in the shape of a speech, and,
-without saying another word, turned
-on its side on the leafy bed, shut
-both eyes, and went to sleep. The
-Nightingale was of course too polite,
-civil, and considerate to prolong. So
-he simply said, "Good night to you,
-little Teardrop, or Dewdrop, whatever
-you prefer calling yourself. It is time,
-and more than time, for me to be on
-the wing. I have one or two domestic<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>
-anxieties which, in the first place, I
-must see to; and, after that, I have an
-engagement among these old hawthorns
-to serenade till morning."</p>
-
-<p>"Good night, kind bird," replied the
-Dewdrop, turning in politeness half
-round on its pillow; "thank you for
-thinking of me in my loneliness."
-And away the songster flew, first to his
-home, and then, after some outstanding
-duties and civilities, over to his thicket
-among the May blossoms. The extreme
-beauty of the night seemed to
-dispel all care, and to have a decidedly
-inspiring effect on his nerves. I cannot
-tell whether he had really any such<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>
-ambitious thought, but it almost
-seemed, from the gush of song, an
-attempt was made that every star in
-the heavens might at all events hear, if
-they could not appreciate his melodies.</p>
-
-<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img028.jpg" alt="chapter footer" title="chapter footer" /></div>
-<p><br /><br /></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/imghr.jpg" alt="decorative" title="decorative" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_THE_SECOND" id="CHAPTER_THE_SECOND"></a>CHAPTER THE SECOND.</h2>
-
-
-<div class="figleft"><img src="images/img029.jpg" alt="I" title="I" /></div><p>t was now morning. The
-mist still slept drowsily in the
-valley; in some places so
-dense, that the smoke of the early fires
-in the hamlet could scarcely pierce it.
-Already our friend the Thrush had completed
-both toilet and breakfast, and had
-issued forth on his round of daily work
-and pleasure; as active and busy as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>
-the thrush family always are. When
-he first rose from bed, he was not
-exactly in the very best of humours;
-for he had, what was always a cross to
-him when it occurred (though that was
-rarely), a disturbed night. Shall I tell
-you how his rest came thus to be
-invaded? Why, the Nightingale, on
-his way from the rose-leaf, had, perhaps
-somewhat inconsiderately, tapped at
-his door, to inform him that all he
-could get out of the Dewdrop was
-(a very incomprehensible sentiment to
-a sleepy bird), that he was a tear wept
-by the Sky when it lost the Sun; and
-he was bound in all sincerity to add,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>
-that it seemed rather a dull and uninteresting
-tear to boot.</p>
-
-
-<p>"I know better," growled the Thrush.
-(I have used the word "growl," because
-I can find no better to describe the
-reality.) Growling, I am well aware, is a
-very uncommon demonstration of feeling
-in the case of a warbler. At all
-events, if it was not a growl, it was the
-nearest approach his beak could make
-to one, as he turned on the pillow
-which had been thus rudely disturbed.
-After, however, dozing for a few more
-hours, breakfast over, and his family
-seen to, off he sped with all his former
-cheerfulness and activity, till he found<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>
-himself perched on a branch of the
-very tallest elm-tree he could pick out,
-and one, too, right above where the
-rose and the dewdrop were. Dear
-me! how he piped, and chirruped, and
-throstled! I thought the Nightingale
-had done wonders in that way; but it
-was nothing to the Thrush. He doubtless
-was under the impression that the
-Dewdrop was sound asleep, and needed
-no ordinary efforts in the way of
-rousing. I am sure if one could have
-dived under the yellow feathers, the
-little throat must have been purple.</p>
-
-<p>After these musical preliminaries,
-our new friend (Songster No. 2) ven<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>tured
-by-and-by to come nearer. But,
-in doing so, he could hardly believe
-his eyes, specially after what the
-Nightingale had told him.</p>
-
-<p>"A teardrop" indeed! There was
-not a bit of the tear about it. Where
-had been the Nightingale's eyes? It
-was something at all events very
-like a bright, unmistakable, beautiful
-diamond on which the Thrush looked.
-How it glistened and sparkled; and
-that too with all the prismatic colours!
-The spectator could only (what was an
-effort to any member of the Thrush
-family) gaze in mute wonder.</p>
-
-<p>"What in all the world can you be,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>
-you lovely, silent sleeper on the rose-leaf,
-with your round crystal cheeks?
-Dewdrop we thought you were; teardrop
-you say you are: I cannot think
-you are either. If you are not a
-diamond set in rubies&mdash;stolen, for
-anything I know, from yesterday's
-rainbow&mdash;you look the thing uncommonly
-well."</p>
-
-<p>"I am indeed a diamond," answered
-the Dewdrop. "Look at me," said the
-little gleaming dot, with the air of an
-aristocrat; "do you not say I am fit for
-a monarch's crown? And it <i>is</i> a
-monarch's crown I am presently to be
-set in. Every day I meet the Queen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>
-of the Morning.&mdash;Stay," it suddenly exclaimed,
-"I see her even now advancing
-with her rosy feet, 'sowing the earth
-with pearls.' See, for yourself, how the
-few stars which still linger in the sky,
-and which with their glittering torches
-lighted her out of the Eastern Gate,
-are paling every minute behind her!
-She says, of all the jewels in her tiara
-there is not one she is fonder of, or
-prouder of, than me. Away, away,
-little bird," stammered out the Dewdrop,
-with some nervous twitchings
-presently to be accounted for; "I must
-prepare to meet this Queen Aurora.
-But," it added in a kind of after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>thought,
-"the procession will soon be
-over; come back shortly and see me, if
-you please." The keen diamond eye
-twinkled with a humorous, comical
-expression when these last words were
-uttered; as much as to say, "I shall
-manage to cheat you, old fellow,
-wont I?"</p>
-
-<p>The Thrush had some small quantum
-of poetry in his nature; but he had a
-great deal of shrewd common sense
-too, and an immense idea of propriety.
-Accordingly, he at once took the hint
-as to departure; but with guileless
-simplicity cherished the resolution of
-renewing the intercourse, in an hour or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>
-two at latest, after the royal cavalcade
-had swept by.</p>
-
-<p>This interlude was no peculiar hardship
-to our erratic friend, who knew he
-could spend the time merrily and
-profitably among his numerous kinsfolk
-in the groves. To tell the truth, he was
-not sorry to get away from the court
-pageantry, as all such ceremonial and
-pomp of circumstance was an abomination
-to him, and had always been
-so. It was, therefore, with pleasant
-anticipations of an early return that,
-by a few fleet bounces, he was lost
-from sight in the nearest thicket.</p>
-
-<p>Barely, however, had the specified<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>
-period elapsed, when he was back again
-upon his twig on the tall elm. He
-had certainly not exhausted his strength
-or conversational music-powers in that
-round of morning visits, for he renewed,
-then and there, his merriest
-notes, quite in the old style; and after
-this prelude, by way of making sure
-that the course was clear, he flew with
-more than wonted alacrity in the
-direction of the rose-leaf.</p>
-
-<p>But, can you imagine? To his
-wonder, sorrow, and chagrin, lo! when
-he looked for it, the leaf was empty!
-Its small householder was gone! Not
-a trace of either Dewdrop or Diamond<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>
-left! There was no need of asking
-any questions; he comprehended in a
-moment what the roguish twinkle of the
-eye meant an hour before. He had,
-in a word, been "sold." It was more
-than a mere innocent trick played on
-him. His feelings and bird-dignity
-had, he felt, been a little compromised
-by what, had it occurred at night, would
-have been called "a moonlight flitting."
-It was more like what the big
-creatures in the world around him
-were in the habit of describing as an
-April errand. It was only too evident
-that the Queen of the Morning, in
-passing by, had picked up the dew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>
-diamond, and had inserted it in her
-crown; and that the little thing had
-made no demur to the appropriation.</p>
-
-<p>Well, it must be owned that, anyhow
-for once, the Thrush was crestfallen.
-He almost never knew any ditties but
-joyous ones; but on the present occasion,
-with no attempt at concealment, he
-went away wailing to the thicket, and
-outpoured his wounded vanity in something
-very like a dirge. He then
-buried his beak in rather sulky fashion
-under his wing, and went to sleep.</p>
-
-<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img040.jpg" alt="chapter footer" title="chapter footer" /></div>
-
-
-<p><br /><br /></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/imghr.jpg" alt="decorative" title="decorative" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_THE_THIRD" id="CHAPTER_THE_THIRD"></a>CHAPTER THE THIRD.</h2>
-
-
-<div class="figleft"><img src="images/img041.jpg" alt="B" title="B" /></div><p>ut what is this? It is a
-change of scene. Away up in
-the morning sky, oh, how blue
-it is! and the light fleecy clouds, how they
-float in folds of white ether! The Sun
-has climbed higher. It is now above
-the tallest of the poplars; and the long
-shadows cast by trunks and stems and
-branches are visibly shortened. And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>
-see! the cattle are again lowing in the
-fat meadows, and by degrees beating
-a safe retreat from the coming heat
-under the forest trees.</p>
-
-<p>High in that bright dome of azure,
-there is a delightful frolicsome twitter
-heard. It is not the Nightingale; no,
-not so clear and mellow as that. Not
-the Thrush; no, not so loud or gushing
-as that. It is our little friend the
-Lark. Oh! how merry he is! more so
-than either of the other two. And
-what is he about? He seems to be
-floating and soaring, sauntering and
-curtseying, skimming and dipping, rollicking
-and frolicking&mdash;now up, now<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>
-down&mdash;now describing gyrations, now
-imitating a pendulum&mdash;now trying to be
-so steady with his fluttering wings, that
-he looks like a star twinkling in the day-time&mdash;in
-short, playing all sorts of droll
-antics, indulging in every imaginable
-pirouette and somersault, in all the
-world (in his case <i>above</i> the world) like a
-school-boy beginning his holidays; certainly
-appearing to put himself to a great
-deal of unnecessary trouble and exertion.
-But he is unmistakably, with his
-winning ways, about <i>something</i>, and
-something to the purpose. But what
-that is, no mortal could guess. As the
-thing however must be guessed, or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>
-otherwise found out, Gentle Reader,
-I shall take you into confidence, and
-unriddle the secret.</p>
-
-
-
-<p>The Queen of the Morning, as you
-already know, or at all events know
-now, had come with all her court, and
-troupe of gay courtiers. The Young
-Hours had unbarred for her the Gates
-of Day, and she at once sallied forth.
-Beautiful little pages in the shape of
-pink clouds, quite like tiny angels
-with wings, were holding up her train.
-Some of those fairy cherubs seemed, too,
-to have censers in their hands, at least
-if one could judge from the delicate
-wreaths of mist which rose like incense<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>
-from them. Others appeared to be
-discharging tiny golden arrows from
-silver bows; others to paint, with
-invisible pencils, in delicate and varying
-hues of amber and purple, the fringes
-of clouds; while the Queen herself at
-times laid her own finger upon the
-larger of these, and braided them with
-snow and crimson. And then, how
-loyal everything seemed to be on the
-earth beneath! How each flower that
-had been asleep all night instantly
-rose on awaking, and, in the most
-duteous manner uncovering its head,
-prepared to take its place in the royal
-procession. The more gorgeous ones<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>
-of the garden led the way, with their
-velvet tassels, and silken brocades, and
-pendants of opal and turquoise; some
-apparently carrying chalices filled with
-nectar. Then the fields and hedgerows,
-in their rough, rustic, plebeian fashion,
-with their fustian jackets and smock-frocks,
-said&mdash;"We shall not be behind
-our betters;" so their buttercups and
-wood-anemones, speedwell and scarlet
-pimpernel, the meadow violet with its
-modest blue, the cowslip with its burnished
-cells, the daisy with its "golden
-eye and white silver eyelashes," all did
-fealty to their adored Queen. Some
-went down on their knees; others doffed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>
-their caps; others smiled bewitchingly;
-others could do nothing but waft sweet
-perfumes. There were even bands of
-very varied music and musicians, all
-assisting with their efforts in swelling
-the Queen's Anthem. The brook,
-though it had sung all night, and had
-need of a little respite, seemed to say&mdash;"No,
-I shall go warbling on; she shall
-have my very best treble of a ripple."
-And then there were minor performers
-in this nature-choir. The Blackbird
-and Redbreast, Goldfinch and Linnet,
-and Chaffinch, each took part with
-striking effect. Even the Swallow
-in his own quiet way twittered, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>
-Tomtit chattered, and the Beetle
-droned, and the Bee hummed, and the
-big Dragon-fly, in armour of brightest
-cobalt, whirred; and the Grasshopper,
-poor fellow! did his very uttermost,&mdash;he
-chirruped, he could do no more.
-The Butterfly, who could not raise
-a single note, came out in his best
-plush court-dress of gold, vermilion,
-and blue, dainty little silent outrider
-that he is, waking up any exceptional
-sleepers. He carried, truth to
-say, his zeal sometimes too far; as
-when I saw him unjustly reproaching
-the Foxglove for having bells and not
-ringing them, a thing they were never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>
-meant to do. Even the Spider hung
-his silver-tissued web from spray to
-spray; as if he had weaved a gossamer
-mantle, in case his Queen might like to
-use it in the chill of early dawn. (<a href='#frontis'><i>See Frontispiece.</i></a>)</p>
-
-<p>Well, the latter&mdash;I mean the Queen&mdash;at
-last came to a pause, and, with most
-radiant grace in her countenance, she
-put her hand up to her crown, and took
-out the diamond. There was a little
-pet of a crimson cloud that happened
-to be floating past at the moment.
-She laid the lustrous gem on this
-roseate pillow; and then, slowly and
-gradually, she and all her retainers,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>
-in ghostly shape, vanished clean from
-sight.</p>
-
-<hr style="width: 45%;" />
-
-<p>But what, you will say, has all this
-to do with our friend the Lark? His
-quick little eye had discerned what your
-dull sight and mine could not. He had
-watched everything I have now described.
-How indeed could he miss
-seeing that flashing speck of light lying
-so daintily on its cushion of state? No
-wonder he circles and zigzags, and does
-bird-homage to the brightest gem of
-the Regalia. Up, down&mdash;hither, thither&mdash;just
-as I have already told, doing
-obeisance in every possible and con<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>ceivable
-way; till at last, poising
-himself immediately above, fluttering
-with all his might, and settling himself
-in the fixed attitude in which the lark
-family are such adepts, he mustered up
-courage and said&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>"Pretty sparkling thing! I know what
-you are. You are a rare diamond just
-taken from the crown of the Queen of
-the Morning. But, I confess, you look,
-too, very like the Dewdrop I spied at a
-distance, a few hours ago, on the tip of
-a rose-leaf."</p>
-
-<p>"What a capital guesser you are,
-tiny minstrel," was the reply; "but you
-had better leave me with my diamond<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>
-name, at all events for the present. I
-shall not say whether some scientific
-bird-winged philosophers are right or
-wrong when they aver that, though the
-Queen of the Morning borrowed me, I
-am really and truly a jewel from the
-crown of the Sun; that when he took
-off his royal robes last evening, to lay
-his head on his nightly pillow, I
-dropped out of his crown, and tumbled
-down to the earth. I may tell you, however,
-confidentially (just in a whisper,
-you know)," added the brilliant speaker,
-"that though they call me Diamond, I
-like quite as well the name with which
-God's beautiful mist baptized me, that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>
-of <i>Dewdrop</i>. But I have brief time
-(indeed no time) to converse further
-with you now. You have seen, a
-short while ago, how the Queen of
-the Morning vanished. Will you be
-astonished when I tell you that I am
-about to do the very same myself? I
-am going," it continued, "to my Palace
-yonder" (an extra gleam, in the absence
-of a finger, was its own special way of
-pointing upwards). "I have said my
-<i>Palace</i>&mdash;I should rather perhaps say,
-my <i>Home</i>. We may meet," it added,
-"pretty soaring warbler, on the way to
-it. But please leave me now."</p>
-
-<p>What I have said of the Thrush was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>
-true also of the Lark. He was a
-peculiarly biddable and discreet bird,
-and when he got a hint he always took
-it. Moreover, the Dewdrop had spoken
-so courteously (he thought condescendingly)
-to him, he would not for the
-world intrude his company longer than
-desired. The other evidently wished
-to be all alone, to pack up and prepare
-for this great and distant journey.</p>
-
-<p>So the Lark plunged down to the
-stream among the alders to bathe his
-wings and refresh himself. After the
-lustrations were duly completed, up
-again he rose like an arrow into the
-bright, blue sky. Says he to himself,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>
-"I shall certainly be on the sharp out-look
-for that ascent of the Dewdrop.
-I can at all events be a silent spectator,
-if my services cannot otherwise be of
-use." And, to be sure, he did not
-require to watch long; for, with that
-keenness of perception that belonged
-to all his ancestors, he found that he
-had soared right into the very midst of
-a golden mist. Some people say and
-believe (though I am not wise enough
-in bird-lore to know the truth of it),
-that the lark family have eyes almost
-like a microscope; things invisible to
-us are said to be quite visible, and
-indeed conspicuous, to them. At all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>
-events, this was true in the case of the
-present representative of that discriminating
-race. So that what, if we had
-been there, would only have seemed an
-aggregation of glistening atoms, were
-to him nothing less than a vast army in
-visible shape&mdash;chariots and charioteers,
-knights mounted on steeds with white
-trappings and gold and silver bridles;
-other horsemen carrying glittering
-spears, polished shields, and flashing
-swords; others bearing standards of
-cloth of gold. I am only telling you
-what the Lark saw, or thought he saw;
-and a most wonderful army on march
-you can very well believe it was.</p>
-
-<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Oh, just see how he twitters and
-carols, as I have more than once
-pictured, and cannot do so too often&mdash;shaking
-first his little wings, and then
-his little throat; the old zigzagging
-to and fro&mdash;here, there, everywhere&mdash;whisking
-in this direction, and bouncing
-in that direction, restless gymnastic
-that he is, in a very whirl and vortex
-of excitement!</p>
-
-<p>"You told me, a little while ago,"
-said he, mustering up courage, with an
-effort, to speak to this wondrous mass
-of knight-errantry; "at all events the
-Diamond-drop, of which I know you are
-the fragments, told me you were going<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>
-to some Palace in the sky. Where is
-that?"</p>
-
-<p>"It is our <i>Home</i>, soaring warbler,"
-said the million million little voices,
-their spears and helmets flashing brightly
-in the radiance, their horses prancing
-and pawing the path of light&mdash;"It
-is Home, Home, Home!" said the
-myriads, the very air tremulous with
-the shout.</p>
-
-<p>"Yes, but where is that?" repeated
-the Lark, determined to come to the
-point, and not to be numerically extinguished,
-as he darted like lightning
-round and round the brilliant host.<br /><br /></p>
-
-<p><a name="Ascent" id="Ascent"></a></p>
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img056.jpg" width="398" height="550" alt="Ascent" title="Ascent" /></div>
-
-
-<p><br /><br />"The Sun! the Sun!" one after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>
-another made answer. The Dewdrop
-was a tear that fell from the sky because
-the Sun was gone. But, as you
-have just told us, we are all parts of it&mdash;everyone
-of us are; and we are on our
-way again to the golden entrance to his
-Palace.</p>
-
-<p>The army of misty globules rose
-and rose, higher and yet higher. They
-seemed, too, to get brighter and brighter
-in the ascent, the Lark rising with them,
-indeed till his little wings were tired.
-Then when he felt that he could act as
-convoy no farther, down he came at
-one long unpausing dart to the furrow
-adjoining the wooded dell below, which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>
-was now all streaked with fleckered
-light. He thought (and we shall not
-quarrel with the fancy) that these
-patches of light were nothing else than
-the golden arrows he had seen shot from
-the bow of the Cherubs&mdash;the little
-Angels of the Dawn&mdash;and that they
-were now lying thick in the green
-arcade. He just took breath, after the
-exhaustion and excitement, alike of
-both body and mind, which his aerial
-adventure had entailed; and then
-hastened straight to the home of the
-Nightingale and Thrush, to tell of the
-glorious ascent (what the old and learned
-creatures of the earth would have called<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>
-the apotheosis) of the Dewdrop on
-the rose-leaf; its severance into a
-million fragments; and how these,
-in the shape of a great army, had
-marched right within</p>
-
-<h3><span class="smcap">The Sun's Golden Gates</span>!</h3>
-
-<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img062.jpg" alt="chapter footer" title="chapter footer" /></div>
-
-
-<p><br /><br /></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/imghr.jpg" alt="decorative" title="decorative" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="AFTERWORDS" id="AFTERWORDS"></a><i>AFTERWORDS.</i></h2>
-
-<h2><i>An Angel's Whisper.</i></h2>
-
-<div class="figleft"><img src="images/img063.jpg" alt="T" title="T" /></div><p>he Soul&mdash;the Spirit of Man&mdash;apart
-from the Great Sun,
-becomes a teardrop. All is
-dark to it, when that All-glorious Source
-of Light and Love is away. Earth's
-sweetest songs cannot cheer it. But
-when the morning comes, and the
-Sun returns, the teardrop becomes a
-Dewdrop&mdash;gleaming like a diamond in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>
-that peerless radiance. And at death,
-when it <i>seems</i> to be dissolved, and
-has apparently vanished from sight,
-it is exhaled&mdash;not annihilated. It
-passes upward to the Golden Gates,
-to be lost in the splendour of <span class="smcap">the
-Everlasting Light</span>!</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img064.jpg" alt="endpiece" title="endpiece" /></div>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
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-</body>
-</html>
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@@ -1,1379 +0,0 @@
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Story of a Dewdrop, by J. R. Macduff
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
-
-
-Title: The Story of a Dewdrop
-
-Author: J. R. Macduff
-
-Release Date: November 14, 2006 [EBook #19809]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ASCII
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF A DEWDROP ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Janet Blenkinship
-and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
-http://www.pgdp.net
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-The Story of
-A DEWDROP.
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-THE
-STORY
-OF A
-DEWDROP
-
-J. R. MACDUFF D D
-
-WITH
-FOUR COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS
-
-
-LONDON MARCUS WARD & CO BELFAST
-
-1881
-
-
-
-
-FOREWORDS.
-
- To Charlie.
-
-
- A Dewdrop is a small affair; and the world would not be the least
- interested, nor a bit the wiser, by knowing how I come
- affectionately to dedicate the story I have written about it to
- _you_. I may tell you it was one line of eleven words, read one
- night from a musty old volume of last century, which suggested it.
-
- Everybody must have their play-hours and moments of recreation. I
- think I have gone back to other and more serious work all the better
- after writing a page or two of what follows. I am happy thus to have
- had my little holiday along with you in this ideal region of quaint
- conceits.
-
- Shall we hope that others may share our pleasure?
-
- Let us try.
-
-
-
-
-_List of_
-ILLUSTRATIONS.
-
-
-_The Procession of the Queen of the Morning_ (p. 41), _Frontispiece._
-
-_The Bird-talk and its surroundings,_ 14
-
-_The Nightingale and the Dewdrop,_ 19
-
-_The Ascent of the Million Army,_ 53
-
-
-
-
-_The Story of_
-A DEWDROP.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER THE FIRST.
-
-
-Three birds of very favourable
-repute in these regions
-met together one evening--a
-Thrush, a Lark, and a Nightingale.
-And all for what purpose, think you?
-It was a queer one--to hold a solemn
-conference about a DEWDROP!
-
-Yes, it must be allowed it was an
-original thought which brought these
-three feathered friends thus into council;
-and a pretty talk to be sure they had
-about it.
-
-They selected, as an appropriate time
-for preliminaries, the close of a bright
-day in early summer; just when things
-in outer nature were looking their best.
-The snowdrop and crocus had long ago
-hid their faces to make way for more
-ambitious rivals. That always pleasant
-season was a great way past, when you
-see the drowsy plants (after being
-tucked up--it may have been for weeks--in
-a white snowy coverlet), first
-roused from their sound winter sleep,
-yawning and stretching themselves, and
-rubbing their little eyes, and looking;
-wonderingly about them, saying--"What!
-is it now time to wake up
-and dress?" The tree foliage was
-approaching, if it had not already
-reached, perfection; all the mosses,
-too, looked so green and fresh; and
-how prettily the various ferns were
-uncoiling themselves among the rocks
-and shady nooks by the stream;
-while on this particular occasion
-the very Sun seemed to have coaxed
-his setting beams into the production
-of most gorgeous colouring. Belts of
-golden cloud were streaking the western
-sky; such long trails of them, that it
-was impossible to say whether the great
-ball of fire, which gave them their
-glory, had actually gone down behind
-the horizon, or was just about to do so.
-At all events, it was unmistakably
-_sundown_: though the scene was far
-removed from northern latitudes, it
-might be designated by the familiar
-Scotch "gloamin'." The groves, and
-dells, and hedgerows, which had kept
-up a goodly concert the livelong day,
-were now silent. Their winged tenants
-had, one after another, slunk to their
-nests, with very tired throats. They
-had left, apparently, all, or nearly all
-the music to the aforesaid brook in the
-dell. A stone's-throw higher up the
-valley, this latter, fed by recent rains,
-rattled in gleeful style over a bed of
-white and grey pebbles--the tiny
-limpid waves chasing one another as
-if they were playing at hide-and-seek
-amid the sedges, king-cups, and rushes.
-But it had now reached a quieter spot
-where, however, it still kept up a gentle,
-soothing evensong, a lullaby peculiar
-to itself, as if it wanted to hush the
-little birds asleep in their varied leafy
-cradles. The very cattle, that had
-been seen lying lazily out of the heat
-under the beech-trees, had ceased their
-lowings. In fact, Nature had rung
-her curfew bell, and the sentry stars
-were coming out, one by one, to keep
-their night-watch.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Let me first, however, say a word
-about this Dewdrop, which had awakened
-so much curiosity as to gather
-three representative members of the
-bird-world together.
-
-It was a great puzzle, this Dewdrop
-was. It was a puzzle where it came
-from; what it had come about; and a
-still greater puzzle, what it was made
-of. It was evidently a visitor from
-some unknown land. Very quietly,
-too, it had travelled to its adopted
-country. These birds, in succession
-(with the curiosity birds generally have),
-had endeavoured by stealth to track its
-dainty fairy footsteps, and learn its
-past history. But it was to no
-purpose. However, there it was; not
-perhaps making its appearance every
-night, but almost every night. And,
-then, it invariably managed to perch
-itself so daintily on the tip of a rose-leaf.
-All three birds agreed that it had
-substantiated its claim in this, to be
-decidedly a lover of the beautiful.
-The leaf, moreover, which it made its
-resting-place, was not only pretty in
-itself, of a subdued delicate green, but
-it hung right over a full-blown rose,
-with a mass of pink leaves. The
-Dewdrop quite seemed as if it had said
-to its own little personality regarding
-this round coral ball (or cup, if you
-prefer to call it so)--"Well, I shall
-have a good look at you at all events,
-from my cozy couch, the last thing
-at night, and the first thing in the
-morning."
-
-[Illustration]
-
-I somehow really believe the rose
-must have heard this complimentary
-speech, or at all events, by some
-instinctive way, have correctly surmised
-what the Dewdrop was thinking about;
-for, in the last fading, glimmering
-light, it covered up its face so coyly
-with both hands, and blushed a deeper
-and deeper crimson.
-
- * * * * *
-
-But to return to the birds. It was
-just outside a copsy retreat that these
-three winged acquaintances met. The
-Thrush, with his brown plumage and
-yellow spotted neck, being the biggest,
-and, if anything, the more talkative of
-the three, began the conversation.
-
-The consultation was a long and
-animated one, too long indeed to
-report in full, besides there being a
-considerable amount of superfluous talk,
-what in bird-language is called chattering;
-but I can give the close of it.
-
-"Well," said the Thrush, summing
-up the discussion, "I must now be off
-to bed--at all events after providing
-something suitable in the way of
-supper for my wife and family, and
-seeing them made tolerably comfortable
-for the night. And so too must you,"
-he added, with a quizzical look to the
-Lark, whose left eye was beginning to
-droop, as he stood, with one leg up, in
-the significant fashion our woodland
-friends indulge in when they indicate
-that they are tired. "We shall leave
-to you, Bird of the night"--were his last
-words, as he addressed the Nightingale--"we
-shall leave to you the first
-interview with this little sparkling
-thing from fairyland, or whatever other
-land it has quitted. We shall defer
-_our_ visit till to-morrow."
-
-So away the two brown-winged companions
-sped, I know not exactly where.
-But, though both in a great hurry to get
-home, they judiciously deemed, as I
-have just observed, that they might
-do a trifle of purveying business on
-the way, by picking up a few seeds; or
-if a manageable slug or grub presented
-itself, so much the better. I had not
-the curiosity to follow them; but I
-believe they each contrived to carry
-home a dainty supper; the one to the
-hole of a big ash-tree, the other to its
-nest in the furrow beside some tufts of
-golden gorse. It may be interesting,
-however, to know, by way of completing
-their domestic history, that both had
-promising young households--the one
-of three, and the other of four--to
-support; and the wee downy children
-had arrived too at a very ravenous age,
-with any capacity for food, which
-indeed amounted, at times, on the part
-alike of father and mother, to a trial of
-temper.
-
-The Nightingale, now left all alone
-for the discharge of a somewhat novel
-duty, seemed at first to feel his
-responsibility: perhaps a feeling allied
-to nervousness in the human being.
-But he was a knowing little fellow too;
-and resolved to proceed in the most
-alluring as well as discreet way to his
-task. Being fully acquainted with the
-position of the rose-leaf, he took wing,
-and settled himself on the branch of a
-birch close by. Without any possible
-warning, he forthwith began (it was the
-best way of getting over these nervous
-sensations) to pipe one of his very best
-and most enchanting songs. He had
-somewhat unwarrantably indulged the
-expectation that he would get an
-immediate response from the Dewdrop.
-He had however, in this, to exercise
-the virtue of patience.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-"Answer me, pretty Dewdrop," he
-said in his most bewitching trill.
-
-But the Dewdrop was silent. It
-appeared to pay not the slightest
-attention.
-
-Another chirrup and mellifluous
-note, and then, coming to a lower and
-still nearer spray of the birch-tree,
-quite within whispering distance:
-
-"Pretty little noiseless thing," continued
-the Nightingale, "what are
-you? Where were you born? Have
-you any father or mother? or are you
-an orphan? My two brother birds
-spoke of your brightness and lustre.
-My eyes are tolerably good; but I
-confess I can see none of these things
-about you; you seem rather somehow
-to appear sad, though I trust I am
-wrong."
-
-"I have reason to be sad," at last
-replied the Dewdrop, in the quietest,
-mildest, silveriest voice imaginable,
-and trembling with an emotion real or
-pretended. "You call me a Dewdrop,
-but in truth I am not, I am a teardrop;
-a teardrop which fell from the sky."
-
-"A teardrop from the sky!" said
-the Nightingale, in undisguised astonishment.
-"I cannot comprehend you.
-Pray tell me what you mean?"
-
-"It is true, despite of your surprise,"
-said the other. "The Sky always
-weeps at the loss of the Sun; and no
-wonder. I tell you again, believe it
-or not as you please, I am one of the
-tears it shed to-night. You need not,
-however, grieve for me. I shall be all
-right" (the tiny voice rising to a
-falsetto) "when the Sun appears again.
-Indeed, I venture to say, you will
-hardly know me then. _That_ I am
-sure of."
-
-"Ay!" said the Nightingale, with
-a sceptical, incredulous chirp.
-
-"Yes! I always get bright, that I
-do, when the Sun shows himself. Look
-up to those stars, glittering in the sky.
-Do you know how they twinkle so?
-I am myself neither scholar nor
-philosopher, and have no pretensions
-either way. But a confidential friend
-once told me, and I quite believe him,
-that it is because they are either suns
-themselves, or else get light from that
-beautiful Sun you saw some time ago
-tingeing the sky with red and gold.
-_My Sun_," continued the dwarf thing of
-mystery, raising its tones, with a sort
-of conscious pride. (If it had been
-aught else but a beaded drop, I would
-have described it standing on tip-toe
-as it said this.) It had, however, fairly
-exhausted itself with a very unwonted
-effort in the shape of a speech, and,
-without saying another word, turned
-on its side on the leafy bed, shut
-both eyes, and went to sleep. The
-Nightingale was of course too polite,
-civil, and considerate to prolong. So
-he simply said, "Good night to you,
-little Teardrop, or Dewdrop, whatever
-you prefer calling yourself. It is time,
-and more than time, for me to be on
-the wing. I have one or two domestic
-anxieties which, in the first place, I
-must see to; and, after that, I have an
-engagement among these old hawthorns
-to serenade till morning."
-
-"Good night, kind bird," replied the
-Dewdrop, turning in politeness half
-round on its pillow; "thank you for
-thinking of me in my loneliness."
-And away the songster flew, first to his
-home, and then, after some outstanding
-duties and civilities, over to his thicket
-among the May blossoms. The extreme
-beauty of the night seemed to
-dispel all care, and to have a decidedly
-inspiring effect on his nerves. I cannot
-tell whether he had really any such
-ambitious thought, but it almost
-seemed, from the gush of song, an
-attempt was made that every star in
-the heavens might at all events hear, if
-they could not appreciate his melodies.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER THE SECOND.
-
-
-It was now morning. The
-mist still slept drowsily in the
-valley; in some places so
-dense, that the smoke of the early fires
-in the hamlet could scarcely pierce it.
-Already our friend the Thrush had completed
-both toilet and breakfast, and had
-issued forth on his round of daily work
-and pleasure; as active and busy as
-the thrush family always are. When
-he first rose from bed, he was not
-exactly in the very best of humours;
-for he had, what was always a cross to
-him when it occurred (though that was
-rarely), a disturbed night. Shall I tell
-you how his rest came thus to be
-invaded? Why, the Nightingale, on
-his way from the rose-leaf, had, perhaps
-somewhat inconsiderately, tapped at
-his door, to inform him that all he
-could get out of the Dewdrop was
-(a very incomprehensible sentiment to
-a sleepy bird), that he was a tear wept
-by the Sky when it lost the Sun; and
-he was bound in all sincerity to add,
-that it seemed rather a dull and uninteresting
-tear to boot.
-
-"I know better," growled the Thrush.
-(I have used the word "growl," because
-I can find no better to describe the
-reality.) Growling, I am well aware, is a
-very uncommon demonstration of feeling
-in the case of a warbler. At all
-events, if it was not a growl, it was the
-nearest approach his beak could make
-to one, as he turned on the pillow
-which had been thus rudely disturbed.
-After, however, dozing for a few more
-hours, breakfast over, and his family
-seen to, off he sped with all his former
-cheerfulness and activity, till he found
-himself perched on a branch of the
-very tallest elm-tree he could pick out,
-and one, too, right above where the
-rose and the dewdrop were. Dear
-me! how he piped, and chirruped, and
-throstled! I thought the Nightingale
-had done wonders in that way; but it
-was nothing to the Thrush. He doubtless
-was under the impression that the
-Dewdrop was sound asleep, and needed
-no ordinary efforts in the way of
-rousing. I am sure if one could have
-dived under the yellow feathers, the
-little throat must have been purple.
-
-After these musical preliminaries,
-our new friend (Songster No. 2) ventured
-by-and-by to come nearer. But,
-in doing so, he could hardly believe
-his eyes, specially after what the
-Nightingale had told him.
-
-"A teardrop" indeed! There was
-not a bit of the tear about it. Where
-had been the Nightingale's eyes? It
-was something at all events very
-like a bright, unmistakable, beautiful
-diamond on which the Thrush looked.
-How it glistened and sparkled; and
-that too with all the prismatic colours!
-The spectator could only (what was an
-effort to any member of the Thrush
-family) gaze in mute wonder.
-
-"What in all the world can you be,
-you lovely, silent sleeper on the rose-leaf,
-with your round crystal cheeks?
-Dewdrop we thought you were; teardrop
-you say you are: I cannot think
-you are either. If you are not a
-diamond set in rubies--stolen, for
-anything I know, from yesterday's
-rainbow--you look the thing uncommonly
-well."
-
-"I am indeed a diamond," answered
-the Dewdrop. "Look at me," said the
-little gleaming dot, with the air of an
-aristocrat; "do you not say I am fit for
-a monarch's crown? And it _is_ a
-monarch's crown I am presently to be
-set in. Every day I meet the Queen
-of the Morning.--Stay," it suddenly exclaimed,
-"I see her even now advancing
-with her rosy feet, 'sowing the earth
-with pearls.' See, for yourself, how the
-few stars which still linger in the sky,
-and which with their glittering torches
-lighted her out of the Eastern Gate,
-are paling every minute behind her!
-She says, of all the jewels in her tiara
-there is not one she is fonder of, or
-prouder of, than me. Away, away,
-little bird," stammered out the Dewdrop,
-with some nervous twitchings
-presently to be accounted for; "I must
-prepare to meet this Queen Aurora.
-But," it added in a kind of afterthought,
-"the procession will soon be
-over; come back shortly and see me, if
-you please." The keen diamond eye
-twinkled with a humorous, comical
-expression when these last words were
-uttered; as much as to say, "I shall
-manage to cheat you, old fellow,
-wont I?"
-
-The Thrush had some small quantum
-of poetry in his nature; but he had a
-great deal of shrewd common sense
-too, and an immense idea of propriety.
-Accordingly, he at once took the hint
-as to departure; but with guileless
-simplicity cherished the resolution of
-renewing the intercourse, in an hour or
-two at latest, after the royal cavalcade
-had swept by.
-
-This interlude was no peculiar hardship
-to our erratic friend, who knew he
-could spend the time merrily and
-profitably among his numerous kinsfolk
-in the groves. To tell the truth, he was
-not sorry to get away from the court
-pageantry, as all such ceremonial and
-pomp of circumstance was an abomination
-to him, and had always been
-so. It was, therefore, with pleasant
-anticipations of an early return that,
-by a few fleet bounces, he was lost
-from sight in the nearest thicket.
-
-Barely, however, had the specified
-period elapsed, when he was back again
-upon his twig on the tall elm. He
-had certainly not exhausted his strength
-or conversational music-powers in that
-round of morning visits, for he renewed,
-then and there, his merriest
-notes, quite in the old style; and after
-this prelude, by way of making sure
-that the course was clear, he flew with
-more than wonted alacrity in the
-direction of the rose-leaf.
-
-But, can you imagine? To his
-wonder, sorrow, and chagrin, lo! when
-he looked for it, the leaf was empty!
-Its small householder was gone! Not
-a trace of either Dewdrop or Diamond
-left! There was no need of asking
-any questions; he comprehended in a
-moment what the roguish twinkle of the
-eye meant an hour before. He had,
-in a word, been "sold." It was more
-than a mere innocent trick played on
-him. His feelings and bird-dignity
-had, he felt, been a little compromised
-by what, had it occurred at night, would
-have been called "a moonlight flitting."
-It was more like what the big
-creatures in the world around him
-were in the habit of describing as an
-April errand. It was only too evident
-that the Queen of the Morning, in
-passing by, had picked up the dew
-diamond, and had inserted it in her
-crown; and that the little thing had
-made no demur to the appropriation.
-
-Well, it must be owned that, anyhow
-for once, the Thrush was crestfallen.
-He almost never knew any ditties but
-joyous ones; but on the present occasion,
-with no attempt at concealment, he
-went away wailing to the thicket, and
-outpoured his wounded vanity in something
-very like a dirge. He then
-buried his beak in rather sulky fashion
-under his wing, and went to sleep.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER THE THIRD.
-
-
-But what is this? It is a
-change of scene. Away up in
-the morning sky, oh, how blue
-it is! and the light fleecy clouds, how they
-float in folds of white ether! The Sun
-has climbed higher. It is now above
-the tallest of the poplars; and the long
-shadows cast by trunks and stems and
-branches are visibly shortened. And
-see! the cattle are again lowing in the
-fat meadows, and by degrees beating
-a safe retreat from the coming heat
-under the forest trees.
-
-High in that bright dome of azure,
-there is a delightful frolicsome twitter
-heard. It is not the Nightingale; no,
-not so clear and mellow as that. Not
-the Thrush; no, not so loud or gushing
-as that. It is our little friend the
-Lark. Oh! how merry he is! more so
-than either of the other two. And
-what is he about? He seems to be
-floating and soaring, sauntering and
-curtseying, skimming and dipping, rollicking
-and frolicking--now up, now
-down--now describing gyrations, now
-imitating a pendulum--now trying to be
-so steady with his fluttering wings, that
-he looks like a star twinkling in the day-time--in
-short, playing all sorts of droll
-antics, indulging in every imaginable
-pirouette and somersault, in all the
-world (in his case _above_ the world) like a
-school-boy beginning his holidays; certainly
-appearing to put himself to a great
-deal of unnecessary trouble and exertion.
-But he is unmistakably, with his
-winning ways, about _something_, and
-something to the purpose. But what
-that is, no mortal could guess. As the
-thing however must be guessed, or
-otherwise found out, Gentle Reader,
-I shall take you into confidence, and
-unriddle the secret.
-
-The Queen of the Morning, as you
-already know, or at all events know
-now, had come with all her court, and
-troupe of gay courtiers. The Young
-Hours had unbarred for her the Gates
-of Day, and she at once sallied forth.
-Beautiful little pages in the shape of
-pink clouds, quite like tiny angels
-with wings, were holding up her train.
-Some of those fairy cherubs seemed, too,
-to have censers in their hands, at least
-if one could judge from the delicate
-wreaths of mist which rose like incense
-from them. Others appeared to be
-discharging tiny golden arrows from
-silver bows; others to paint, with
-invisible pencils, in delicate and varying
-hues of amber and purple, the fringes
-of clouds; while the Queen herself at
-times laid her own finger upon the
-larger of these, and braided them with
-snow and crimson. And then, how
-loyal everything seemed to be on the
-earth beneath! How each flower that
-had been asleep all night instantly
-rose on awaking, and, in the most
-duteous manner uncovering its head,
-prepared to take its place in the royal
-procession. The more gorgeous ones
-of the garden led the way, with their
-velvet tassels, and silken brocades, and
-pendants of opal and turquoise; some
-apparently carrying chalices filled with
-nectar. Then the fields and hedgerows,
-in their rough, rustic, plebeian fashion,
-with their fustian jackets and smock-frocks,
-said--"We shall not be behind
-our betters;" so their buttercups and
-wood-anemones, speedwell and scarlet
-pimpernel, the meadow violet with its
-modest blue, the cowslip with its burnished
-cells, the daisy with its "golden
-eye and white silver eyelashes," all did
-fealty to their adored Queen. Some
-went down on their knees; others doffed
-their caps; others smiled bewitchingly;
-others could do nothing but waft sweet
-perfumes. There were even bands of
-very varied music and musicians, all
-assisting with their efforts in swelling
-the Queen's Anthem. The brook,
-though it had sung all night, and had
-need of a little respite, seemed to say--"No,
-I shall go warbling on; she shall
-have my very best treble of a ripple."
-And then there were minor performers
-in this nature-choir. The Blackbird
-and Redbreast, Goldfinch and Linnet,
-and Chaffinch, each took part with
-striking effect. Even the Swallow
-in his own quiet way twittered, and the
-Tomtit chattered, and the Beetle
-droned, and the Bee hummed, and the
-big Dragon-fly, in armour of brightest
-cobalt, whirred; and the Grasshopper,
-poor fellow! did his very uttermost,--he
-chirruped, he could do no more.
-The Butterfly, who could not raise
-a single note, came out in his best
-plush court-dress of gold, vermilion,
-and blue, dainty little silent outrider
-that he is, waking up any exceptional
-sleepers. He carried, truth to
-say, his zeal sometimes too far; as
-when I saw him unjustly reproaching
-the Foxglove for having bells and not
-ringing them, a thing they were never
-meant to do. Even the Spider hung
-his silver-tissued web from spray to
-spray; as if he had weaved a gossamer
-mantle, in case his Queen might like to
-use it in the chill of early dawn. (_See
-Frontispiece_.)
-
-Well, the latter--I mean the Queen--at
-last came to a pause, and, with most
-radiant grace in her countenance, she
-put her hand up to her crown, and took
-out the diamond. There was a little
-pet of a crimson cloud that happened
-to be floating past at the moment.
-She laid the lustrous gem on this
-roseate pillow; and then, slowly and
-gradually, she and all her retainers,
-in ghostly shape, vanished clean from
-sight.
-
- * * * * *
-
-But what, you will say, has all this
-to do with our friend the Lark? His
-quick little eye had discerned what your
-dull sight and mine could not. He had
-watched everything I have now described.
-How indeed could he miss
-seeing that flashing speck of light lying
-so daintily on its cushion of state? No
-wonder he circles and zigzags, and does
-bird-homage to the brightest gem of
-the Regalia. Up, down--hither, thither--just
-as I have already told, doing
-obeisance in every possible and conceivable
-way; till at last, poising
-himself immediately above, fluttering
-with all his might, and settling himself
-in the fixed attitude in which the lark
-family are such adepts, he mustered up
-courage and said--
-
-"Pretty sparkling thing! I know what
-you are. You are a rare diamond just
-taken from the crown of the Queen of
-the Morning. But, I confess, you look,
-too, very like the Dewdrop I spied at a
-distance, a few hours ago, on the tip of
-a rose-leaf."
-
-"What a capital guesser you are,
-tiny minstrel," was the reply; "but you
-had better leave me with my diamond
-name, at all events for the present. I
-shall not say whether some scientific
-bird-winged philosophers are right or
-wrong when they aver that, though the
-Queen of the Morning borrowed me, I
-am really and truly a jewel from the
-crown of the Sun; that when he took
-off his royal robes last evening, to lay
-his head on his nightly pillow, I
-dropped out of his crown, and tumbled
-down to the earth. I may tell you, however,
-confidentially (just in a whisper,
-you know)," added the brilliant speaker,
-"that though they call me Diamond, I
-like quite as well the name with which
-God's beautiful mist baptized me, that
-of _Dewdrop_. But I have brief time
-(indeed no time) to converse further
-with you now. You have seen, a
-short while ago, how the Queen of
-the Morning vanished. Will you be
-astonished when I tell you that I am
-about to do the very same myself? I
-am going," it continued, "to my Palace
-yonder" (an extra gleam, in the absence
-of a finger, was its own special way of
-pointing upwards). "I have said my
-_Palace_--I should rather perhaps say,
-my _Home_. We may meet," it added,
-"pretty soaring warbler, on the way to
-it. But please leave me now."
-
-What I have said of the Thrush was
-true also of the Lark. He was a
-peculiarly biddable and discreet bird,
-and when he got a hint he always took
-it. Moreover, the Dewdrop had spoken
-so courteously (he thought condescendingly)
-to him, he would not for the
-world intrude his company longer than
-desired. The other evidently wished
-to be all alone, to pack up and prepare
-for this great and distant journey.
-
-So the Lark plunged down to the
-stream among the alders to bathe his
-wings and refresh himself. After the
-lustrations were duly completed, up
-again he rose like an arrow into the
-bright, blue sky. Says he to himself,
-"I shall certainly be on the sharp out-look
-for that ascent of the Dewdrop.
-I can at all events be a silent spectator,
-if my services cannot otherwise be of
-use." And, to be sure, he did not
-require to watch long; for, with that
-keenness of perception that belonged
-to all his ancestors, he found that he
-had soared right into the very midst of
-a golden mist. Some people say and
-believe (though I am not wise enough
-in bird-lore to know the truth of it),
-that the lark family have eyes almost
-like a microscope; things invisible to
-us are said to be quite visible, and
-indeed conspicuous, to them. At all
-events, this was true in the case of the
-present representative of that discriminating
-race. So that what, if we had
-been there, would only have seemed an
-aggregation of glistening atoms, were
-to him nothing less than a vast army in
-visible shape--chariots and charioteers,
-knights mounted on steeds with white
-trappings and gold and silver bridles;
-other horsemen carrying glittering
-spears, polished shields, and flashing
-swords; others bearing standards of
-cloth of gold. I am only telling you
-what the Lark saw, or thought he saw;
-and a most wonderful army on march
-you can very well believe it was.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Oh, just see how he twitters and
-carols, as I have more than once
-pictured, and cannot do so too often--shaking
-first his little wings, and then
-his little throat; the old zigzagging
-to and fro--here, there, everywhere--whisking
-in this direction, and bouncing
-in that direction, restless gymnastic
-that he is, in a very whirl and vortex
-of excitement!
-
-"You told me, a little while ago,"
-said he, mustering up courage, with an
-effort, to speak to this wondrous mass
-of knight-errantry; "at all events the
-Diamond-drop, of which I know you are
-the fragments, told me you were going
-to some Palace in the sky. Where is
-that?"
-
-"It is our _Home_, soaring warbler,"
-said the million million little voices,
-their spears and helmets flashing brightly
-in the radiance, their horses prancing
-and pawing the path of light--"It
-is Home, Home, Home!" said the
-myriads, the very air tremulous with
-the shout.
-
-"Yes, but where is that?" repeated
-the Lark, determined to come to the
-point, and not to be numerically extinguished,
-as he darted like lightning
-round and round the brilliant host.
-
-"The Sun! the Sun!" one after
-another made answer. The Dewdrop
-was a tear that fell from the sky because
-the Sun was gone. But, as you
-have just told us, we are all parts of it--everyone
-of us are; and we are on our
-way again to the golden entrance to his
-Palace.
-
-The army of misty globules rose
-and rose, higher and yet higher. They
-seemed, too, to get brighter and brighter
-in the ascent, the Lark rising with them,
-indeed till his little wings were tired.
-Then when he felt that he could act as
-convoy no farther, down he came at
-one long unpausing dart to the furrow
-adjoining the wooded dell below, which
-was now all streaked with fleckered
-light. He thought (and we shall not
-quarrel with the fancy) that these
-patches of light were nothing else than
-the golden arrows he had seen shot from
-the bow of the Cherubs--the little
-Angels of the Dawn--and that they
-were now lying thick in the green
-arcade. He just took breath, after the
-exhaustion and excitement, alike of
-both body and mind, which his aerial
-adventure had entailed; and then
-hastened straight to the home of the
-Nightingale and Thrush, to tell of the
-glorious ascent (what the old and learned
-creatures of the earth would have called
-the apotheosis) of the Dewdrop on
-the rose-leaf; its severance into a
-million fragments; and how these,
-in the shape of a great army, had
-marched right within
-
-THE SUN'S GOLDEN GATES!
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-_AFTERWORDS._
-
-_An Angel's Whisper._
-
-
-The Soul--the Spirit of Man--apart
-from the Great Sun,
-becomes a teardrop. All is
-dark to it, when that All-glorious Source
-of Light and Love is away. Earth's
-sweetest songs cannot cheer it. But
-when the morning comes, and the
-Sun returns, the teardrop becomes a
-Dewdrop--gleaming like a diamond in
-that peerless radiance. And at death,
-when it _seems_ to be dissolved, and
-has apparently vanished from sight,
-it is exhaled--not annihilated. It
-passes upward to the Golden Gates,
-to be lost in the splendour of THE
-EVERLASTING LIGHT!
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Story of a Dewdrop, by J. R. Macduff
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