summaryrefslogtreecommitdiff
path: root/old/fbrls10.txt
diff options
context:
space:
mode:
Diffstat (limited to 'old/fbrls10.txt')
-rw-r--r--old/fbrls10.txt2121
1 files changed, 2121 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/fbrls10.txt b/old/fbrls10.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..160860d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/fbrls10.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,2121 @@
+*The Project Gutenberg Etext of Fables, by Robert L. Stevenson*
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check
+the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!
+
+Please take a look at the important information in this header.
+We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an
+electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this.
+
+
+**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
+
+**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
+
+*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations*
+
+Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and
+further information is included below. We need your donations.
+
+
+Fables
+
+by Robert Louis Stevenson*
+
+October, 1995 [Etext #343]
+
+
+*The Project Gutenberg Etext of Fables, by Robert L. Stevenson*
+*****This file should be named fbrls10.txt or fbrls10.zip******
+
+Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, fbrls11.txt.
+VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, fbrls10a.txt.
+
+
+Fables - Robert Louis Stevenson - 1901 Edition
+Scanned and proofed by David Price
+ccx074@coventry.ac.uk
+
+We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance
+of the official release dates, for time for better editing.
+
+Please note: neither this list nor its contents are final till
+midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
+The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at
+Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A
+preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
+and editing by those who wish to do so. To be sure you have an
+up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes
+in the first week of the next month. Since our ftp program has
+a bug in it that scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a
+look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a
+new copy has at least one byte more or less.
+
+
+Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)
+
+We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The
+fifty hours is one conservative estimate for how long it we take
+to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
+searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. This
+projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value
+per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $4
+million dollars per hour this year as we release some eight text
+files per month: thus upping our productivity from $2 million.
+
+The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext
+Files by the December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000=Trillion]
+This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
+which is 10% of the expected number of computer users by the end
+of the year 2001.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/IBC", and are
+tax deductible to the extent allowable by law ("IBC" is Illinois
+Benedictine College). (Subscriptions to our paper newsletter go
+to IBC, too)
+
+For these and other matters, please mail to:
+
+Project Gutenberg
+P. O. Box 2782
+Champaign, IL 61825
+
+When all other email fails try our Michael S. Hart, Executive
+Director:
+hart@vmd.cso.uiuc.edu (internet) hart@uiucvmd (bitnet)
+
+We would prefer to send you this information by email
+(Internet, Bitnet, Compuserve, ATTMAIL or MCImail).
+
+******
+If you have an FTP program (or emulator), please
+FTP directly to the Project Gutenberg archives:
+[Mac users, do NOT point and click. . .type]
+
+ftp mrcnext.cso.uiuc.edu
+login: anonymous
+password: your@login
+cd etext/etext90 through /etext95
+or cd etext/articles [get suggest gut for more information]
+dir [to see files]
+get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files]
+GET INDEX?00.GUT
+for a list of books
+and
+GET NEW GUT for general information
+and
+MGET GUT* for newsletters.
+
+**Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor**
+(Three Pages)
+
+
+***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START***
+Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers.
+They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
+your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from
+someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
+fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement
+disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how
+you can distribute copies of this etext if you want to.
+
+*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT
+By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
+etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept
+this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive
+a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by
+sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person
+you got it from. If you received this etext on a physical
+medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.
+
+ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS
+This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-
+tm etexts, is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor
+Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association at
+Illinois Benedictine College (the "Project"). Among other
+things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright
+on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and
+distribute it in the United States without permission and
+without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth
+below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext
+under the Project's "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
+
+To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable
+efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
+works. Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any
+medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other
+things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
+disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer
+codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES
+But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
+[1] the Project (and any other party you may receive this
+etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including
+legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR
+UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT,
+INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE
+OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
+POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.
+
+If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of
+receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
+you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
+time to the person you received it from. If you received it
+on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
+such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement
+copy. If you received it electronically, such person may
+choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to
+receive it electronically.
+
+THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
+TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
+PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
+
+Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
+the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
+above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
+may have other legal rights.
+
+INDEMNITY
+You will indemnify and hold the Project, its directors,
+officers, members and agents harmless from all liability, cost
+and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or
+indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause:
+[1] distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification,
+or addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect.
+
+DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
+You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by
+disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this
+"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg,
+or:
+
+[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this
+ requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
+ etext or this "small print!" statement. You may however,
+ if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable
+ binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
+ including any form resulting from conversion by word pro-
+ cessing or hypertext software, but only so long as
+ *EITHER*:
+
+ [*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
+ does *not* contain characters other than those
+ intended by the author of the work, although tilde
+ (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
+ be used to convey punctuation intended by the
+ author, and additional characters may be used to
+ indicate hypertext links; OR
+
+ [*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at
+ no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
+ form by the program that displays the etext (as is
+ the case, for instance, with most word processors);
+ OR
+
+ [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
+ no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
+ etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
+ or other equivalent proprietary form).
+
+[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this
+ "Small Print!" statement.
+
+[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the
+ net profits you derive calculated using the method you
+ already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you
+ don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are
+ payable to "Project Gutenberg Association / Illinois
+ Benedictine College" within the 60 days following each
+ date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare)
+ your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return.
+
+WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
+The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time,
+scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty
+free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution
+you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg
+Association / Illinois Benedictine College".
+
+*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END*
+
+
+
+
+Fables - Robert Louis Stevenson - 1901 Edition
+Scanned and proofed by David Price
+ccx074@coventry.ac.uk
+
+
+
+
+
+***
+FABLES
+
+
+
+
+I. - THE PERSONS OF THE TALE.
+
+
+AFTER the 32nd chapter of TREASURE ISLAND, two of the puppets
+strolled out to have a pipe before business should begin again, and
+met in an open place not far from the story.
+
+"Good-morning, Cap'n," said the first, with a man-o'-war salute,
+and a beaming countenance.
+
+"Ah, Silver!" grunted the other. "You're in a bad way, Silver."
+
+"Now, Cap'n Smollett," remonstrated Silver, "dooty is dooty, as I
+knows, and none better; but we're off dooty now; and I can't see no
+call to keep up the morality business."
+
+"You're a damned rogue, my man," said the Captain.
+
+"Come, come, Cap'n, be just," returned the other. "There's no call
+to be angry with me in earnest. I'm on'y a chara'ter in a sea
+story. I don't really exist."
+
+"Well, I don't really exist either," says the Captain, "which seems
+to meet that."
+
+"I wouldn't set no limits to what a virtuous chara'ter might
+consider argument," responded Silver. "But I'm the villain of this
+tale, I am; and speaking as one sea-faring man to another, what I
+want to know is, what's the odds?"
+
+"Were you never taught your catechism?" said the Captain. "Don't
+you know there's such a thing as an Author?"
+
+"Such a thing as a Author?" returned John, derisively. "And who
+better'n me? And the p'int is, if the Author made you, he made
+Long John, and he made Hands, and Pew, and George Merry - not that
+George is up to much, for he's little more'n a name; and he made
+Flint, what there is of him; and he made this here mutiny, you keep
+such a work about; and he had Tom Redruth shot; and - well, if
+that's a Author, give me Pew!"
+
+"Don't you believe in a future state?" said Smollett. "Do you
+think there's nothing but the present story-paper?"
+
+"I don't rightly know for that," said Silver; "and I don't see what
+it's got to do with it, anyway. What I know is this: if there is
+sich a thing as a Author, I'm his favourite chara'ter. He does me
+fathoms better'n he does you - fathoms, he does. And he likes
+doing me. He keeps me on deck mostly all the time, crutch and all;
+and he leaves you measling in the hold, where nobody can't see you,
+nor wants to, and you may lay to that! If there is a Author, by
+thunder, but he's on my side, and you may lay to it!"
+
+"I see he's giving you a long rope," said the Captain. "But that
+can't change a man's convictions. I know the Author respects me; I
+feel it in my bones; when you and I had that talk at the blockhouse
+door, who do you think he was for, my man?"
+
+"And don't he respect me?" cried Silver. "Ah, you should 'a' heard
+me putting down my mutiny, George Merry and Morgan and that lot, no
+longer ago'n last chapter; you'd heard something then! You'd 'a'
+seen what the Author thinks o' me! But come now, do you consider
+yourself a virtuous chara'ter clean through?"
+
+"God forbid!" said Captain Smollett, solemnly. "I am a man that
+tries to do his duty, and makes a mess of it as often as not. I'm
+not a very popular man at home, Silver, I'm afraid!" and the
+Captain sighed.
+
+"Ah," says Silver. "Then how about this sequel of yours? Are you
+to be Cap'n Smollett just the same as ever, and not very popular at
+home, says you? And if so, why, it's TREASURE ISLAND over again,
+by thunder; and I'll be Long John, and Pew'll be Pew, and we'll
+have another mutiny, as like as not. Or are you to be somebody
+else? And if so, why, what the better are you? and what the worse
+am I?"
+
+"Why, look here, my man," returned the Captain, "I can't understand
+how this story comes about at all, can I? I can't see how you and
+I, who don't exist, should get to speaking here, and smoke our
+pipes for all the world like reality? Very well, then, who am I to
+pipe up with my opinions? I know the Author's on the side of good;
+he tells me so, it runs out of his pen as he writes. Well, that's
+all I need to know; I'll take my chance upon the rest."
+
+"It's a fact he seemed to be against George Merry," Silver
+admitted, musingly. "But George is little more'n a name at the
+best of it," he added, brightening. "And to get into soundings for
+once. What is this good? I made a mutiny, and I been a gentleman
+o' fortune; well, but by all stories, you ain't no such saint. I'm
+a man that keeps company very easy; even by your own account, you
+ain't, and to my certain knowledge you're a devil to haze. Which
+is which? Which is good, and which bad? Ah, you tell me that!
+Here we are in stays, and you may lay to it!"
+
+"We're none of us perfect," replied the Captain. "That's a fact of
+religion, my man. All I can say is, I try to do my duty; and if
+you try to do yours, I can't compliment you on your success."
+
+"And so you was the judge, was you?" said Silver, derisively.
+
+"I would be both judge and hangman for you, my man, and never turn
+a hair," returned the Captain. "But I get beyond that: it mayn't
+be sound theology, but it's common sense, that what is good is
+useful too - or there and thereabout, for I don't set up to be a
+thinker. Now, where would a story go to if there were no virtuous
+characters?"
+
+"If you go to that," replied Silver, "where would a story begin, if
+there wasn't no villains?"
+
+"Well, that's pretty much my thought," said Captain Smollett. "The
+Author has to get a story; that's what he wants; and to get a
+story, and to have a man like the doctor (say) given a proper
+chance, he has to put in men like you and Hands. But he's on the
+right side; and you mind your eye ! You're not through this story
+yet; there's trouble coming for you."
+
+"What'll you bet?" asked John.
+
+"Much I care if there ain't," returned the Captain. "I'm glad
+enough to be Alexander Smollett, bad as he is; and I thank my stars
+upon my knees that I'm not Silver. But there's the ink-bottle
+opening. To quarters!"
+
+And indeed the Author was just then beginning to write the words:
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII.
+
+
+
+
+II. - THE SINKING SHIP.
+
+
+"SIR," said the first lieutenant, bursting into the Captain's
+cabin, "the ship is going down."
+
+"Very well, Mr. Spoker," said the Captain; "but that is no reason
+for going about half-shaved. Exercise your mind a moment, Mr.
+Spoker, and you will see that to the philosophic eye there is
+nothing new in our position: the ship (if she is to go down at all)
+may be said to have been going down since she was launched."
+
+"She is settling fast," said the first lieutenant, as he returned
+from shaving.
+
+"Fast, Mr. Spoker?" asked the Captain. "The expression is a
+strange one, for time (if you will think of it) is only relative."
+
+"Sir," said the lieutenant, "I think it is scarcely worth while to
+embark in such a discussion when we shall all be in Davy Jones's
+Locker in ten minutes."
+
+"By parity of reasoning," returned the Captain gently, "it would
+never be worth while to begin any inquiry of importance; the odds
+are always overwhelming that we must die before we shall have
+brought it to an end. You have not considered, Mr. Spoker, the
+situation of man," said the Captain, smiling, and shaking his head.
+
+"I am much more engaged in considering the position of the ship,"
+said Mr. Spoker.
+
+"Spoken like a good officer," replied the Captain, laying his hand
+on the lieutenant's shoulder.
+
+On deck they found the men had broken into the spirit-room, and
+were fast getting drunk.
+
+"My men," said the Captain, "there is no sense in this. The ship
+is going down, you will tell me, in ten minutes: well, and what
+then? To the philosophic eye, there is nothing new in our
+position. All our lives long, we may have been about to break a
+blood-vessel or to be struck by lightning, not merely in ten
+minutes, but in ten seconds; and that has not prevented us from
+eating dinner, no, nor from putting money in the Savings Bank. I
+assure you, with my hand on my heart, I fail to comprehend your
+attitude."
+
+The men were already too far gone to pay much heed.
+
+"This is a very painful sight, Mr. Spoker," said the Captain.
+
+"And yet to the philosophic eye, or whatever it is," replied the
+first lieutenant, "they may be said to have been getting drunk
+since they came aboard."
+
+"I do not know if you always follow my thought, Mr. Spoker,"
+returned the Captain gently. "But let us proceed."
+
+In the powder magazine they found an old salt smoking his pipe.
+
+"Good God," cried the Captain, "what are you about?"
+
+"Well, sir," said the old salt, apologetically, "they told me as
+she were going down."
+
+"And suppose she were?" said the Captain. "To the philosophic eye,
+there would be nothing new in our position. Life, my old shipmate,
+life, at any moment and in any view, is as dangerous as a sinking
+ship; and yet it is man's handsome fashion to carry umbrellas, to
+wear indiarubber over-shoes, to begin vast works, and to conduct
+himself in every way as if he might hope to be eternal. And for my
+own poor part I should despise the man who, even on board a sinking
+ship, should omit to take a pill or to wind up his watch. That, my
+friend, would not be the human attitude."
+
+"I beg pardon, sir," said Mr. Spoker. "But what is precisely the
+difference between shaving in a sinking ship and smoking in a
+powder magazine?"
+
+"Or doing anything at all in any conceivable circumstances?" cried
+the Captain. "Perfectly conclusive; give me a cigar!"
+
+Two minutes afterwards the ship blew up with a glorious detonation.
+
+
+
+
+III - THE TWO MATCHES.
+
+
+ONE day there was a traveller in the woods in California, in the
+dry season, when the Trades were blowing strong. He had ridden a
+long way, and he was tired and hungry, and dismounted from his
+horse to smoke a pipe. But when he felt in his pocket he found but
+two matches. He struck the first, and it would not light.
+
+"Here is a pretty state of things!" said the traveller. "Dying for
+a smoke; only one match left; and that certain to miss fire! Was
+there ever a creature so unfortunate? And yet," thought the
+traveller, "suppose I light this match, and smoke my pipe, and
+shake out the dottle here in the grass - the grass might catch on
+fire, for it is dry like tinder; and while I snatch out the flames
+in front, they might evade and run behind me, and seize upon yon
+bush of poison oak; before I could reach it, that would have blazed
+up; over the bush I see a pine tree hung with moss; that too would
+fly in fire upon the instant to its topmost bough; and the flame of
+that long torch - how would the trade wind take and brandish that
+through the inflammable forest! I hear this dell roar in a moment
+with the joint voice of wind and fire, I see myself gallop for my
+soul, and the flying conflagration chase and outflank me through
+the hills; I see this pleasant forest burn for days, and the cattle
+roasted, and the springs dried up, and the farmer ruined, and his
+children cast upon the world. What a world hangs upon this
+moment!"
+
+With that he struck the match, and it missed fire.
+
+"Thank God!" said the traveller, and put his pipe in his pocket.
+
+
+
+
+IV. - THE SICK MAN AND THE FIREMAN.
+
+
+THERE was once a sick man in a burning house, to whom there entered
+a fireman.
+
+"Do not save me," said the sick man. "Save those who are strong."
+
+"Will you kindly tell me why?" inquired the fireman, for he was a
+civil fellow.
+
+"Nothing could possibly be fairer," said the sick man. "The strong
+should be preferred in all cases, because they are of more service
+in the world."
+
+The fireman pondered a while, for he was a man of some philosophy.
+"Granted," said he at last, as apart of the roof fell in; "but for
+the sake of conversation, what would you lay down as the proper
+service of the strong?"
+
+"Nothing can possibly be easier," returned the sick man; "the
+proper service of the strong is to help the weak."
+
+Again the fireman reflected, for there was nothing hasty about this
+excellent creature. "I could forgive you being sick," he said at
+last, as a portion of the wall fell out, "but I cannot bear your
+being such a fool." And with that he heaved up his fireman's axe,
+for he was eminently just, and clove the sick man to the bed.
+
+
+
+
+V. - THE DEVIL AND THE INNKEEPER.
+
+
+ONCE upon a time the devil stayed at an inn, where no one knew him,
+for they were people whose education had been neglected. He was
+bent on mischief, and for a time kept everybody by the ears. But
+at last the innkeeper set a watch upon the devil and took him in
+the fact.
+
+The innkeeper got a rope's end.
+
+"Now I am going to thrash you," said the innkeeper.
+
+"You have no right to be angry with me," said the devil. "I am
+only the devil, and it is my nature to do wrong."
+
+"Is that so?" asked the innkeeper.
+
+"Fact, I assure you," said the devil.
+
+"You really cannot help doing ill?" asked the innkeeper.
+
+"Not in the smallest," said the devil; "it would be useless cruelty
+to thrash a thing like me."
+
+"It would indeed," said the innkeeper.
+
+And he made a noose and hanged the devil.
+
+"There!" said the innkeeper.
+
+
+
+
+VI. - THE PENITENT
+
+
+A MAN met a lad weeping. "What do you weep for?" he asked.
+
+"I am weeping for my sins," said the lad.
+
+"You must have little to do," said the man.
+
+The next day they met again. Once more the lad was weeping. "Why
+do you weep now?" asked the man.
+
+"I am weeping because I have nothing to eat," said the lad.
+
+"I thought it would come to that," said the man.
+
+
+
+
+VII. - THE YELLOW PAINT.
+
+
+IN a certain city there lived a physician who sold yellow paint.
+This was of so singular a virtue that whoso was bedaubed with it
+from head to heel was set free from the dangers of life, and the
+bondage of sin, and the fear of death for ever. So the physician
+said in his prospectus; and so said all the citizens in the city;
+and there was nothing more urgent in men's hearts than to be
+properly painted themselves, and nothing they took more delight in
+than to see others painted. There was in the same city a young man
+of a very good family but of a somewhat reckless life, who had
+reached the age of manhood, and would have nothing to say to the
+paint: "To-morrow was soon enough," said he; and when the morrow
+came he would still put it off. She might have continued to do
+until his death; only, he had a friend of about his own age and
+much of his own manners; and this youth, taking a walk in the
+public street, with not one fleck of paint upon his body, was
+suddenly run down by a water-cart and cut off in the heyday of his
+nakedness. This shook the other to the soul; so that I never
+beheld a man more earnest to be painted; and on the very same
+evening, in the presence of all his family, to appropriate music,
+and himself weeping aloud, he received three complete coats and a
+touch of varnish on the top. The physician (who was himself
+affected even to tears) protested he had never done a job so
+thorough.
+
+Some two months afterwards, the young man was carried on a
+stretcher to the physician's house.
+
+"What is the meaning of this?" he cried, as soon as the door was
+opened. "I was to be set free from all the dangers of life; and
+here have I been run down by that self-same water-cart, and my leg
+is broken."
+
+"Dear me!" said the physician. "This is very sad. But I perceive
+I must explain to you the action of my paint. A broken bone is a
+mighty small affair at the worst of it; and it belongs to a class
+of accident to which my paint is quite inapplicable. Sin, my dear
+young friend, sin is the sole calamity that a wise man should
+apprehend; it is against sin that I have fitted you out; and when
+you come to be tempted, you will give me news of my paint."
+
+"Oh!" said the young man, "I did not understand that, and it seems
+rather disappointing. But I have no doubt all is for the best; and
+in the meanwhile, I shall be obliged to you if you will set my
+leg."
+
+"That is none of my business," said the physician; "but if your
+bearers will carry you round the corner to the surgeon's, I feel
+sure he will afford relief."
+
+Some three years later, the young man came running to the
+physician's house in a great perturbation. "What is the meaning of
+this?" he cried. "Here was I to be set free from the bondage of
+sin; and I have just committed forgery, arson and murder."
+
+"Dear me," said the physician. "This is very serious. Off with
+your clothes at once." And as soon as the young man had stripped,
+he examined him from head to foot. "No," he cried with great
+relief, "there is not a flake broken. Cheer up, my young friend,
+your paint is as good as new."
+
+"Good God!" cried the young man, "and what then can be the use of
+it?"
+
+"Why," said the physician, "I perceive I must explain to you the
+nature of the action of my paint. It does not exactly prevent sin;
+it extenuates instead the painful consequences. It is not so much
+for this world, as for the next; it is not against life; in short,
+it is against death that I have fitted you out. And when you come
+to die, you will give me news of my paint."
+
+"Oh!" cried the young man, "I had not understood that, and it seems
+a little disappointing. But there is no doubt all is for the best:
+and in the meanwhile, I shall be obliged if you will help me to
+undo the evil I have brought on innocent persons."
+
+"That is none of my business," said the physician; "but if you will
+go round the corner to the police office, I feel sure it will
+afford you relief to give yourself up."
+
+Six weeks later, the physician was called to the town gaol.
+
+"What is the meaning of this?" cried the young man. "Here am I
+literally crusted with your paint; and I have broken my leg, and
+committed all the crimes in the calendar, and must be hanged to-
+morrow; and am in the meanwhile in a fear so extreme that I lack
+words to picture it."
+
+"Dear me," said the physician. "This is really amazing. Well,
+well; perhaps, if you had not been painted, you would have been
+more frightened still."
+
+
+
+
+VIII. - THE HOUSE OF ELD.
+
+
+So soon as the child began to speak, the gyve was riveted; and the
+boys and girls limped about their play like convicts. Doubtless it
+was more pitiable to see and more painful to bear in youth; but
+even the grown folk, besides being very unhandy on their feet, were
+often sick with ulcers.
+
+About the time when Jack was ten years old, many strangers began to
+journey through that country. These he beheld going lightly by on
+the long roads, and the thing amazed him. "I wonder how it comes,"
+he asked, "that all these strangers are so quick afoot, and we must
+drag about our fetter?"
+
+"My dear boy," said his uncle, the catechist, "do not complain
+about your fetter, for it is the only thing that makes life worth
+living. None are happy, none are good, none are respectable, that
+are not gyved like us. And I must tell you, besides, it is very
+dangerous talk. If you grumble of your iron, you will have no
+luck; if ever you take it off, you will be instantly smitten by a
+thunderbolt."
+
+"Are there no thunderbolts for these strangers?" asked Jack.
+
+"Jupiter is longsuffering to the benighted," returned the
+catechist.
+
+"Upon my word, I could wish I had been less fortunate," said Jack.
+"For if I had been born benighted, I might now be going free; and
+it cannot be denied the iron is inconvenient, and the ulcer hurts."
+
+"Ah!" cried his uncle, "do not envy the heathen! Theirs is a sad
+lot! Ah, poor souls, if they but knew the joys of being fettered!
+Poor souls, my heart yearns for them. But the truth is they are
+vile, odious, insolent, ill-conditioned, stinking brutes, not truly
+human - for what is a man without a fetter? - and you cannot be too
+particular not to touch or speak with them."
+
+After this talk, the child would never pass one of the unfettered
+on the road but what he spat at him and called him names, which was
+the practice of the children in that part.
+
+It chanced one day, when he was fifteen, he went into the woods,
+and the ulcer pained him. It was a fair day, with a blue sky; all
+the birds were singing; but Jack nursed his foot. Presently,
+another song began; it sounded like the singing of a person, only
+far more gay; at the same time there was a beating on the earth.
+Jack put aside the leaves; and there was a lad of his own village,
+leaping, and dancing and singing to himself in a green dell; and on
+the grass beside him lay the dancer's iron.
+
+"Oh!" cried Jack, "you have your fetter off!"
+
+"For God's sake, don't tell your uncle!" cried the lad.
+
+"If you fear my uncle," returned Jack "why do you not fear the
+thunderbolt"?
+
+"That is only an old wives' tale," said the other. "It is only
+told to children. Scores of us come here among the woods and dance
+for nights together, and are none the worse."
+
+This put Jack in a thousand new thoughts. He was a grave lad; he
+had no mind to dance himself; he wore his fetter manfully, and
+tended his ulcer without complaint. But he loved the less to be
+deceived or to see others cheated. He began to lie in wait for
+heathen travellers, at covert parts of the road, and in the dusk of
+the day, so that he might speak with them unseen; and these were
+greatly taken with their wayside questioner, and told him things of
+weight. The wearing of gyves (they said) was no command of
+Jupiter's. It was the contrivance of a white-faced thing, a
+sorcerer, that dwelt in that country in the Wood of Eld. He was
+one like Glaucus that could change his shape, yet he could be
+always told; for when he was crossed, he gobbled like a turkey. He
+had three lives; but the third smiting would make an end of him
+indeed; and with that his house of sorcery would vanish, the gyves
+fall, and the villagers take hands and dance like children.
+
+"And in your country?" Jack would ask.
+
+But at this the travellers, with one accord, would put him off;
+until Jack began to suppose there was no land entirely happy. Or,
+if there were, it must be one that kept its folk at home; which was
+natural enough.
+
+But the case of the gyves weighed upon him. The sight of the
+children limping stuck in his eyes; the groans of such as dressed
+their ulcers haunted him. And it came at last in his mind that he
+was born to free them.
+
+There was in that village a sword of heavenly forgery, beaten upon
+Vulcan's anvil. It was never used but in the temple, and then the
+flat of it only; and it hung on a nail by the catechist's chimney.
+Early one night, Jack rose, and took the sword, and was gone out of
+the house and the village in the darkness.
+
+All night he walked at a venture; and when day came, he met
+strangers going to the fields. Then he asked after the Wood of Eld
+and the house of sorcery; and one said north, and one south; until
+Jack saw that they deceived him. So then, when he asked his way of
+any man, he showed the bright sword naked; and at that the gyve on
+the man's ankle rang, and answered in his stead; and the word was
+still STRAIGHT ON. But the man, when his gyve spoke, spat and
+struck at Jack, and threw stones at him as he went away; so that
+his head was broken.
+
+So he came to that wood, and entered in, and he was aware of a
+house in a low place, where funguses grew, and the trees met, and
+the steaming of the marsh arose about it like a smoke. It was a
+fine house, and a very rambling; some parts of it were ancient like
+the hills, and some but of yesterday, and none finished; and all
+the ends of it were open, so that you could go in from every side.
+Yet it was in good repair, and all the chimneys smoked.
+
+Jack went in through the gable; and there was one room after
+another, all bare, but all furnished in part, so that a man could
+dwell there; and in each there was a fire burning, where a man
+could warm himself, and a table spread where he might eat. But
+Jack saw nowhere any living creature; only the bodies of some
+stuffed.
+
+"This is a hospitable house," said Jack; "but the ground must be
+quaggy underneath, for at every step the building quakes."
+
+He had gone some time in the house, when he began to be hungry.
+Then he looked at the food, and at first he was afraid; but he
+bared the sword, and by the shining of the sword, it seemed the
+food was honest. So he took the courage to sit down and eat, and
+he was refreshed in mind and body.
+
+"This is strange," thought he, "that in the house of sorcery there
+should be food so wholesome."
+
+As he was yet eating, there came into that room the appearance of
+his uncle, and Jack was afraid because he had taken the sword. But
+his uncle was never more kind, and sat down to meat with him, and
+praised him because he had taken the sword. Never had these two
+been more pleasantly together, and Jack was full of love to the
+man.
+
+"It was very well done," said his uncle, "to take the sword and
+come yourself into the House of Eld; a good thought and a brave
+deed. But now you are satisfied; and we may go home to dinner arm
+in arm."
+
+"Oh, dear, no!" said Jack. "I am not satisfied yet."
+
+"How!" cried his uncle. "Are you not warmed by the fire? Does not
+this food sustain you?"
+
+"I see the food to be wholesome," said Jack; "and still it is no
+proof that a man should wear a gyve on his right leg."
+
+Now at this the appearance of his uncle gobbled like a turkey.
+
+"Jupiter!" cried Jack, "is this the sorcerer?"
+
+His hand held back and his heart failed him for the love he bore
+his uncle; but he heaved up the sword and smote the appearance on
+the head; and it cried out aloud with the voice of his uncle; and
+fell to the ground; and a little bloodless white thing fled from
+the room.
+
+The cry rang in Jack's ears, and his knees smote together, and
+conscience cried upon him; and yet he was strengthened, and there
+woke in his bones the lust of that enchanter's blood. "If the
+gyves are to fall," said he, "I must go through with this, and when
+I get home I shall find my uncle dancing."
+
+So he went on after the bloodless thing. In the way, he met the
+appearance of his father; and his father was incensed, and railed
+upon him, and called to him upon his duty, and bade him be home,
+while there was yet time. "For you can still," said he, "be home
+by sunset; and then all will be forgiven."
+
+"God knows," said Jack, "I fear your anger; but yet your anger does
+not prove that a man should wear a gyve on his right leg."
+
+And at that the appearance of his father gobbled like a turkey.
+
+"Ah, heaven," cried Jack, "the sorcerer again!"
+
+The blood ran backward in his body and his joints rebelled against
+him for the love he bore his father; but he heaved up the sword,
+and plunged it in the heart of the appearance; and the appearance
+cried out aloud with the voice of his father; and fell to the
+ground; and a little bloodless white thing fled from the room.
+
+The cry rang in Jack's ears, and his soul was darkened; but now
+rage came to him. "I have done what I dare not think upon," said
+he. "I will go to an end with it, or perish. And when I get home,
+I pray God this may be a dream, and I may find my father dancing."
+
+So he went on after the bloodless thing that had escaped; and in
+the way he met the appearance of his mother, and she wept. "What
+have you done?" she cried. "What is this that you have done? Oh,
+come home (where you may be by bedtime) ere you do more ill to me
+and mine; for it is enough to smite my brother and your father."
+
+"Dear mother, it is not these that I have smitten," said Jack; "it
+was but the enchanter in their shape. And even if I had, it would
+not prove that a man should wear a gyve on his right leg."
+
+And at this the appearance gobbled like a turkey.
+
+He never knew how he did that; but he swung the sword on the one
+side, and clove the appearance through the midst; and it cried out
+aloud with the voice of his mother; and fell to the ground; and
+with the fall of it, the house was gone from over Jack's head, and
+he stood alone in the woods, and the gyve was loosened from his
+leg.
+
+"Well," said he, "the enchanter is now dead, and the fetter gone."
+But the cries rang in his soul, and the day was like night to him.
+"This has been a sore business," said he. "Let me get forth out of
+the wood, and see the good that I have done to others."
+
+He thought to leave the fetter where it lay, but when he turned to
+go, his mind was otherwise. So he stooped and put the gyve in his
+bosom; and the rough iron galled him as he went, and his bosom
+bled.
+
+Now when he was forth of the wood upon the highway, he met folk
+returning from the field; and those he met had no fetter on the
+right leg, but, behold! they had one upon the left. Jack asked
+them what it signified; and they said, "that was the new wear, for
+the old was found to be a superstition". Then he looked at them
+nearly; and there was a new ulcer on the left ankle, and the old
+one on the right was not yet healed.
+
+"Now, may God forgive me!" cried Jack. "I would I were well home."
+
+And when he was home, there lay his uncle smitten on the head, and
+his father pierced through the heart, and his mother cloven through
+the midst. And he sat in the lone house and wept beside the
+bodies.
+
+
+MORAL.
+
+
+Old is the tree and the fruit good,
+Very old and thick the wood.
+Woodman, is your courage stout?
+Beware! the root is wrapped about
+Your mother's heart, your father's bones;
+And like the mandrake comes with groans.
+
+
+
+
+IX - THE FOUR REFORMERS.
+
+
+FOUR reformers met under a bramble bush. They were all agreed the
+world must be changed. "We must abolish property," said one.
+
+"We must abolish marriage," said the second.
+
+"We must abolish God," said the third.
+
+"I wish we could abolish work," said the fourth.
+
+"Do not let us get beyond practical politics," said the first.
+"The first thing is to reduce men to a common level."
+
+"The first thing," said the second, "is to give freedom to the
+sexes."
+
+"The first thing," said the third, "is to find out how to do it."
+
+"The first step," said the first, "is to abolish the Bible."
+
+"The first thing," said the second, "is to abolish the laws."
+
+"The first thing," said the third, "is to abolish mankind."
+
+
+
+
+X. - THE MAN AND HIS FRIEND.
+
+
+A MAN quarrelled with his friend.
+
+"I have been much deceived in you," said the man.
+
+And the friend made a face at him and went away.
+
+A little after, they both died, and came together before the great
+white Justice of the Peace. It began to look black for the friend,
+but the man for a while had a clear character and was getting in
+good spirits.
+
+"I find here some record of a quarrel," said the justice, looking
+in his notes. "Which of you was in the wrong?"
+
+"He was," said the man. "He spoke ill of me behind my back."
+
+"Did he so?" said the justice. "And pray how did he speak about
+your neighbours?"
+
+"Oh, he had always a nasty tongue," said the man.
+
+"And you chose him for your friend?" cried the justice. "My good
+fellow, we have no use here for fools."
+
+So the man was cast in the pit, and the friend laughed out aloud in
+the dark and remained to be tried on other charges.
+
+
+
+
+XI. - THE READER.
+
+
+"I NEVER read such an impious book," said the reader, throwing it
+on the floor.
+
+"You need not hurt me," said the book; "you will only get less for
+me second hand, and I did not write myself."
+
+"That is true," said the reader. "My quarrel is with your author."
+
+"Ah, well," said the book, "you need not buy his rant."
+
+"That is true," said the reader. "But I thought him such a
+cheerful writer."
+
+"I find him so," said the book.
+
+"You must be differently made from me," said the reader.
+
+"Let me tell you a fable," said the book. "There were two men
+wrecked upon a desert island; one of them made believe he was at
+home, the other admitted - "
+
+"Oh, I know your kind of fable," said the reader. "They both
+died."
+
+"And so they did," said the book. "No doubt of that. And
+everybody else."
+
+"That is true," said the reader. "Push it a little further for
+this once. And when they were all dead?"
+
+"They were in God's hands, the same as before," said the book.
+
+"Not much to boast of, by your account," cried the reader.
+
+"Who is impious now?" said the book.
+
+And the reader put him on the fire.
+
+
+The coward crouches from the rod,
+And loathes the iron face of God.
+
+
+
+
+XII. - THE CITIZEN AND THE TRAVELLER.
+
+
+"LOOK round you," said the citizen. "This is the largest market in
+the world."
+
+"Oh, surely not," said the traveller.
+
+"Well, perhaps not the largest," said the citizen, "but much the
+best."
+
+"You are certainly wrong there," said the traveller. "I can tell
+you . . ."
+
+They buried the stranger at the dusk.
+
+
+
+
+XIII. - THE DISTINGUISHED STRANGER.
+
+
+ONCE upon a time there came to this earth a visitor from a
+neighbouring planet. And he was met at the place of his descent by
+a great philosopher, who was to show him everything.
+
+First of all they came through a wood, and the stranger looked upon
+the trees. "Whom have we here?" said he.
+
+"These are only vegetables," said the philosopher. "They are
+alive, but not at all interesting."
+
+"I don't know about that," said the stranger. "They seem to have
+very good manners. Do they never speak?"
+
+"They lack the gift," said the philosopher.
+
+"Yet I think I hear them sing," said the other.
+
+"That is only the wind among the leaves," said the philosopher. "I
+will explain to you the theory of winds: it is very interesting."
+
+"Well," said the stranger, "I wish I knew what they are thinking."
+
+"They cannot think," said the philosopher.
+
+"I don't know about that," returned the stranger: and then, laying
+his hand upon a trunk: "I like these people," said he.
+
+"They are not people at all," said the philosopher. "Come along."
+
+Next they came through a meadow where there were cows.
+
+"These are very dirty people," said the stranger.
+
+"They are not people at all," said the philosopher; and he
+explained what a cow is in scientific words which I have forgotten.
+
+"That is all one to me," said the stranger. "But why do they never
+look up?"
+
+"Because they are graminivorous," said the philosopher; "and to
+live upon grass, which is not highly nutritious, requires so close
+an attention to business that they have no time to think, or speak,
+or look at the scenery, or keep themselves clean."
+
+"Well," said the stranger, "that is one way to live, no doubt. But
+I prefer the people with the green heads."
+
+Next they came into a city, and the streets were full of men and
+women.
+
+"These are very odd people," said the stranger.
+
+"They are the people of the greatest nation in the world," said the
+philosopher.
+
+"Are they indeed?" said the stranger. "They scarcely look so."
+
+
+
+
+XIV. - THE CART-HORSES AND THE SADDLE-HORSE.
+
+
+Two cart-horses, a gelding and a mare, were brought to Samoa, and
+put in the same field with a saddle-horse to run free on the
+island. They were rather afraid to go near him, for they saw he
+was a saddle-horse, and supposed he would not speak to them. Now
+the saddle-horse had never seen creatures so big. "These must be
+great chiefs," thought he, and he approached them civilly. "Lady
+and gentleman," said he, "I understand you are from the colonies.
+I offer you my affectionate compliments, and make you heartily
+welcome to the islands."
+
+The colonials looked at him askance, and consulted with each other.
+
+"Who can he be?" said the gelding.
+
+"He seems suspiciously civil," said the mare.
+
+"I do not think he can be much account," said the gelding.
+
+"Depend upon it he is only a Kanaka," said the mare.
+
+Then they turned to him.
+
+"Go to the devil!" said the gelding.
+
+"I wonder at your impudence, speaking to persons of our quality!"
+cried the mare.
+
+The saddle-horse went away by himself. "I was right," said he,
+"they are great chiefs."
+
+
+
+
+XV - THE TADPOLE AND THE FROG.
+
+
+"BE ashamed of yourself," said the frog.
+
+"When I was a tadpole, I had no tail."
+
+"Just what I thought!" said the tadpole.
+
+"You never were a tadpole."
+
+
+
+
+XVI. - SOMETHING IN IT.
+
+
+THE natives told him many tales. In particular, they warned him of
+the house of yellow reeds tied with black sinnet, how any one who
+touched it became instantly the prey of Akaanga, and was handed on
+to him by Miru the ruddy, and hocussed with the kava of the dead,
+and baked in the ovens and eaten by the eaters of the dead.
+
+"There is nothing in it," said the missionary.
+
+There was a bay upon that island, a very fair bay to look upon;
+but, by the native saying, it was death to bathe there. "There is
+nothing in that," said the missionary; and he came to the bay, and
+went swimming. Presently an eddy took him and bore him towards the
+reef. "Oho!" thought the missionary, "it seems there is something
+in it after all." And he swam the harder, but the eddy carried him
+away. "I do not care about this eddy," said the missionary; and
+even as he said it, he was aware of a house raised on piles above
+the sea; it was built of yellow reeds, one reed joined with
+another, and the whole bound with black sinnet; a ladder led to the
+door, and all about the house hung calabashes. He had never seen
+such a house, nor yet such calabashes; and the eddy set for the
+ladder. "This is singular," said the missionary, "but there can be
+nothing in it." And he laid hold of the ladder and went up. It
+was a fine house; but there was no man there; and when the
+missionary looked back he saw no island, only the heaving of the
+sea. "It is strange about the island," said the missionary, "but
+who's afraid? my stories are the true ones." And he laid hold of a
+calabash, for he was one that loved curiosities. Now he had no
+sooner laid hand upon the calabash than that which he handled, and
+that which he saw and stood on, burst like a bubble and was gone;
+and night closed upon him, and the waters, and the meshes of the
+net; and he wallowed there like a fish.
+
+"A body would think there was something in this," said the
+missionary. "But if these tales are true, I wonder what about my
+tales!"
+
+Now the flaming of Akaanga's torch drew near in the night; and the
+misshapen hands groped in the meshes of the net; and they took the
+missionary between the finger and the thumb, and bore him dripping
+in the night and silence to the place of the ovens of Miru. And
+there was Miru, ruddy in the glow of the ovens; and there sat her
+four daughters, and made the kava of the dead; and there sat the
+comers out of the islands of the living, dripping and lamenting.
+
+This was a dread place to reach for any of the sons of men. But of
+all who ever came there, the missionary was the most concerned;
+and, to make things worse, the person next him was a convert of his
+own.
+
+"Aha," said the convert, "so you are here like your neighbours?
+And how about all your stories?"
+
+"It seems," said the missionary, with bursting tears, "that there
+was nothing in them."
+
+By this the kava of the dead was ready, and the daughters of Miru
+began to intone in the old manner of singing. "Gone are the green
+islands and the bright sea, the sun and the moon and the forty
+million stars, and life and love and hope. Henceforth is no more,
+only to sit in the night and silence, and see your friends
+devoured; for life is a deceit, and the bandage is taken from your
+eyes."
+
+Now when the singing was done, one of the daughters came with the
+bowl. Desire of that kava rose in the missionary's bosom; he
+lusted for it like a swimmer for the land, or a bridegroom for his
+bride; and he reached out his hand, and took the bowl, and would
+have drunk. And then he remembered, and put it back.
+
+"Drink!" sang the daughter of Miru.
+
+"There is no kava like the kava of the dead, and to drink of it
+once is the reward of living."
+
+"I thank you. It smells excellent," said the missionary. "But I
+am a blue-ribbon man myself; and though I am aware there is a
+difference of opinion even in our own confession, I have always
+held kava to be excluded."
+
+"What!" cried the convert. "Are you going to respect a taboo at a
+time like this? And you were always so opposed to taboos when you
+were alive!"
+
+"To other people's," said the missionary. "Never to my own."
+
+"But yours have all proved wrong," said the convert.
+
+"It looks like it," said the missionary, "and I can't help that.
+No reason why I should break my word."
+
+"I never heard the like of this!" cried the daughter of Miru.
+"Pray, what do you expect to gain?"
+
+"That is not the point," said the missionary. "I took this pledge
+for others, I am not going to break it for myself."
+
+The daughter of Miru was puzzled; she came and told her mother, and
+Miru was vexed; and they went and told Akaanga. "I don't know what
+to do about this," said Akaanga; and he came and reasoned with the
+missionary.
+
+"But there IS such a thing as right and wrong," said the
+missionary; "and your ovens cannot alter that."
+
+"Give the kava to the rest," said Akaanga to the daughters of Miru.
+"I must get rid of this sea-lawyer instantly, or worse will come of
+it."
+
+The next moment the missionary came up in the midst of the sea, and
+there before him were the palm trees of the island. He swam to the
+shore gladly, and landed. Much matter of thought was in that
+missionary's mind.
+
+"I seem to have been misinformed upon some points," said he.
+"Perhaps there is not much in it, as I supposed; but there is
+something in it after all. Let me be glad of that."
+
+And he rang the bell for service.
+
+
+MORAL.
+
+
+The sticks break, the stones crumble,
+The eternal altars tilt and tumble,
+Sanctions and tales dislimn like mist
+About the amazed evangelist.
+He stands unshook from age to youth
+Upon one pin-point of the truth.
+
+
+
+
+XVII. - FAITH, HALF FAITH AND NO FAITH AT ALL.
+
+
+IN the ancient days there went three men upon pilgrimage; one was a
+priest, and one was a virtuous person, and the third was an old
+rover with his axe.
+
+As they went, the priest spoke about the grounds of faith.
+
+"We find the proofs of our religion in the works of nature," said
+he, and beat his breast.
+
+"That is true," said the virtuous person.
+
+"The peacock has a scrannel voice," said the priest, "as has been
+laid down always in our books. How cheering!" he cried, in a voice
+like one that wept. "How comforting!"
+
+"I require no such proofs," said the virtuous person.
+
+"Then you have no reasonable faith," said the priest.
+
+"Great is the right, and shall prevail!" cried the virtuous person.
+"There is loyalty in my soul; be sure, there is loyalty in the mind
+of Odin."
+
+"These are but playings upon words," returned the priest. "A
+sackful of such trash is nothing to the peacock."
+
+Just then they passed a country farm, where there was a peacock
+seated on a rail; and the bird opened its mouth and sang with the
+voice of a nightingale.
+
+"Where are you now?" asked the virtuous person. "And yet this
+shakes not me! Great is the truth, and shall prevail!"
+
+"The devil fly away with that peacock!" said the priest; and he was
+downcast for a mile or two.
+
+But presently they came to a shrine, where a Fakeer performed
+miracles.
+
+"Ah!" said the priest, "here are the true grounds of faith. The
+peacock was but an adminicle. This is the base of our religion."
+
+And he beat upon his breast, and groaned like one with colic.
+
+"Now to me," said the virtuous person, "all this is as little to
+the purpose as the peacock. I believe because I see the right is
+great and must prevail; and this Fakeer might carry on with his
+conjuring tricks till doomsday, and it would not play bluff upon a
+man like me."
+
+Now at this the Fakeer was so much incensed that his hand trembled;
+and, lo! in the midst of a miracle the cards fell from up his
+sleeve.
+
+"Where are you now?" asked the virtuous person. "And yet it shakes
+not me!"
+
+"The devil fly away with the Fakeer!" cried the priest. "I really
+do not see the good of going on with this pilgrimage."
+
+"Cheer up!" cried the virtuous person. "Great is the right, and
+shall prevail!"
+
+"If you are quite sure it will prevail," says the priest.
+
+"I pledge my word for that," said the virtuous person.
+
+So the other began to go on again with a better heart.
+
+At last one came running, and told them all was lost: that the
+powers of darkness had besieged the Heavenly Mansions, that Odin
+was to die, and evil triumph.
+
+"I have been grossly deceived," cried the virtuous person.
+
+"All is lost now," said the priest.
+
+"I wonder if it is too late to make it up with the devil?" said the
+virtuous person.
+
+"Oh, I hope not," said the priest. "And at any rate we can but
+try. But what are you doing with your axe?" says he to the rover.
+
+"I am off to die with Odin," said the rover.
+
+
+
+
+XVIII. - THE TOUCHSTONE.
+
+
+THE King was a man that stood well before the world; his smile was
+sweet as clover, but his soul withinsides was as little as a pea.
+He had two sons; and the younger son was a boy after his heart, but
+the elder was one whom he feared. It befell one morning that the
+drum sounded in the dun before it was yet day; and the King rode
+with his two sons, and a brave array behind them. They rode two
+hours, and came to the foot of a brown mountain that was very
+steep.
+
+"Where do we ride?" said the elder son.
+
+"Across this brown mountain." said the King, and smiled to himself.
+
+"My father knows what he is doing," said the younger son.
+
+And they rode two hours more, and came to the sides of a black
+river that was wondrous deep.
+
+"And where do we ride?" asked the elder son.
+
+"Over this black river," said the King, and smiled to himself.
+
+"My father knows what he is doing," said the younger son.
+
+And they rode all that day, and about the time of the sunsetting
+came to the side of a lake, where was a great dun.
+
+"It is here we ride," said the King; "to a King's house, and a
+priest's, and a house where you will learn much."
+
+At the gates of the dun, the King who was a priest met them; and he
+was a grave man, and beside him stood his daughter, and she was as
+fair as the morn, and one that smiled and looked down.
+
+"These are my two sons," said the first King.
+
+"And here is my daughter," said the King who was a priest.
+
+"She is a wonderful fine maid," said the first King, "and I like
+her manner of smiling,"
+
+"They are wonderful well-grown lads," said the second, "and I like
+their gravity."
+
+And then the two Kings looked at each other, and said, "The thing
+may come about".
+
+And in the meanwhile the two lads looked upon the maid, and the one
+grew pale and the other red; and the maid looked upon the ground
+smiling.
+
+"Here is the maid that I shall marry," said the elder. "For I
+think she smiled upon me."
+
+But the younger plucked his father by the sleeve. "Father," said
+he, "a word in your ear. If I find favour in your sight, might not
+I wed this maid, for I think she smiles upon me?"
+
+"A word in yours," said the King his father. "Waiting is good
+hunting, and when the teeth are shut the tongue is at home."
+
+Now they were come into the dun, and feasted; and this was a great
+house, so that the lads were astonished; and the King that was a
+priest sat at the end of the board and was silent, so that the lads
+were filled with reverence; and the maid served them smiling with
+downcast eyes, so that their hearts were enlarged.
+
+Before it was day, the elder son arose, and he found the maid at
+her weaving, for she was a diligent girl. "Maid," quoth he, "I
+would fain marry you."
+
+"You must speak with my father," said she, and she looked upon the
+ground smiling, and became like the rose.
+
+"Her heart is with me," said the elder son, and he went down to the
+lake and sang.
+
+A little after came the younger son. "Maid," quoth he, "if our
+fathers were agreed, I would like well to marry you."
+
+"You can speak to my father," said she; and looked upon the ground,
+and smiled and grew like the rose.
+
+"She is a dutiful daughter," said the younger son, "she will make
+an obedient wife." And then he thought, "What shall I do?" and he
+remembered the King her father was a priest; so he went into the
+temple, and sacrificed a weasel and a hare.
+
+Presently the news got about; and the two lads and the first King
+were called into the presence of the King who was a priest, where
+he sat upon the high seat.
+
+"Little I reck of gear," said the King who was a priest, "and
+little of power. For we live here among the shadow of things, and
+the heart is sick of seeing them. And we stay here in the wind
+like raiment drying, and the heart is weary of the wind. But one
+thing I love, and that is truth; and for one thing will I give my
+daughter, and that is the trial stone. For in the light of that
+stone the seeming goes, and the being shows, and all things besides
+are worthless. Therefore, lads, if ye would wed my daughter, out
+foot, and bring me the stone of touch, for that is the price of
+her."
+
+"A word in your ear," said the younger son to his father. "I think
+we do very well without this stone."
+
+"A word in yours," said the father. "I am of your way of thinking;
+but when the teeth are shut the tongue is at home." And he smiled
+to the King that was a priest.
+
+But the elder son got to his feet, and called the King that was a
+priest by the name of father. "For whether I marry the maid or no,
+I will call you by that word for the love of your wisdom; and even
+now I will ride forth and search the world for the stone of touch."
+So he said farewell, and rode into the world.
+
+"I think I will go, too," said the younger son, "if I can have your
+leave. For my heart goes out to the maid."
+
+"You will ride home with me," said his father.
+
+So they rode home, and when they came to the dun, the King had his
+son into his treasury. "Here," said he, "is the touchstone which
+shows truth; for there is no truth but plain truth; and if you will
+look in this, you will see yourself as you are."
+
+And the younger son looked in it, and saw his face as it were the
+face of a beardless youth, and he was well enough pleased; for the
+thing was a piece of a mirror.
+
+"Here is no such great thing to make a work about," said he; "but
+if it will get me the maid I shall never complain. But what a fool
+is my brother to ride into the world, and the thing all the while
+at home!"
+
+So they rode back to the other dun, and showed the mirror to the
+King that was a priest; and when he had looked in it, and seen
+himself like a King, and his house like a King's house, and all
+things like themselves, he cried out and blessed God. "For now I
+know," said he, "there is no truth but the plain truth; and I am a
+King indeed, although my heart misgave me." And he pulled down his
+temple, and built a new one; and then the younger son was married
+to the maid.
+
+In the meantime the elder son rode into the world to find the
+touchstone of the trial of truth; and whenever he came to a place
+of habitation, he would ask the men if they had heard of it. And
+in every place the men answered: "Not only have we heard of it, but
+we alone, of all men, possess the thing itself, and it hangs in the
+side of our chimney to this day". Then would the elder son be
+glad, and beg for a sight of it. And sometimes it would be a piece
+of mirror, that showed the seeming of things; and then he would
+say, "This can never be, for there should be more than seeming".
+And sometimes it would be a lump of coal, which showed nothing; and
+then he would say, "This can never be, for at least there is the
+seeming". And sometimes it would be a touchstone indeed, beautiful
+in hue, adorned with polishing, the light inhabiting its sides; and
+when he found this, he would beg the thing, and the persons of that
+place would give it him, for all men were very generous of that
+gift; so that at the last he had his wallet full of them, and they
+chinked together when he rode; and when he halted by the side of
+the way he would take them out and try them, till his head turned
+like the sails upon a windmill.
+
+"A murrain upon this business!" said the elder son, "for I perceive
+no end to it. Here I have the red, and here the blue and the
+green; and to me they seem all excellent, and yet shame each other.
+A murrain on the trade! If it were not for the King that is a
+priest and whom I have called my father, and if it were not for the
+fair maid of the dun that makes my mouth to sing and my heart
+enlarge, I would even tumble them all into the salt sea, and go
+home and be a King like other folk."
+
+But he was like the hunter that has seen a stag upon a mountain, so
+that the night may fall, and the fire be kindled, and the lights
+shine in his house; but desire of that stag is single in his bosom.
+
+Now after many years the elder son came upon the sides of the salt
+sea; and it was night, and a savage place, and the clamour of the
+sea was loud. There he was aware of a house, and a man that sat
+there by the light of a candle, for he had no fire. Now the elder
+son came in to him, and the man gave him water to drink, for he had
+no bread; and wagged his head when he was spoken to, for he had no
+words.
+
+"Have you the touchstone of truth?" asked the elder son and when
+the man had wagged his head, "I might have known that," cried the
+elder son. "I have here a wallet full of them!" And with that he
+laughed, although his heart was weary.
+
+And with that the man laughed too, and with the fuff of his
+laughter the candle went out.
+
+"Sleep," said the man, "for now I think you have come far enough;
+and your quest is ended, and my candle is out."
+
+Now when the morning came, the man gave him a clear pebble in his
+hand, and it had no beauty and no colour; and the elder son looked
+upon it scornfully and shook his head; and he went away, for it
+seemed a small affair to him.
+
+All that day he rode, and his mind was quiet, and the desire of the
+chase allayed. "How if this poor pebble be the touchstone, after
+all?" said he: and he got down from his horse, and emptied forth
+his wallet by the side of the way. Now, in the light of each
+other, all the touchstones lost their hue and fire, and withered
+like stars at morning; but in the light of the pebble, their beauty
+remained, only the pebble was the most bright. And the elder son
+smote upon his brow. "How if this be the truth?" he cried, "that
+all are a little true?" And he took the pebble, and turned its
+light upon the heavens, and they deepened about him like the pit;
+and he turned it on the hills, and the hills were cold and rugged,
+but life ran in their sides so that his own life bounded; and he
+turned it on the dust, and he beheld the dust with joy and terror;
+and he turned it on himself, and kneeled down and prayed.
+
+"Now, thanks be to God," said the elder son, "I have found the
+touchstone; and now I may turn my reins, and ride home to the King
+and to the maid of the dun that makes my mouth to sing and my heart
+enlarge."
+
+Now when he came to the dun, he saw children playing by the gate
+where the King had met him in the old days; and this stayed his
+pleasure, for he thought in his heart, "It is here my children
+should be playing". And when he came into the hall, there was his
+brother on the high seat and the maid beside him; and at that his
+anger rose, for he thought in his heart, "It is I that should be
+sitting there, and the maid beside me".
+
+"Who are you?" said his brother. "And what make you in the dun?"
+
+"I am your elder brother," he replied. "And I am come to marry the
+maid, for I have brought the touchstone of truth."
+
+Then the younger brother laughed aloud. "Why," said he, "I found
+the touchstone years ago, and married the maid, and there are our
+children playing at the gate."
+
+Now at this the elder brother grew as gray as the dawn. "I pray
+you have dealt justly," said he, "for I perceive my life is lost."
+
+"Justly?" quoth the younger brother. "It becomes you ill, that are
+a restless man and a runagate, to doubt my justice, or the King my
+father's, that are sedentary folk and known in the land."
+
+"Nay," said the elder brother, "you have all else, have patience
+also; and suffer me to say the world is full of touchstones, and it
+appears not easily which is true."
+
+"I have no shame of mine," said the younger brother. "There it is,
+and look in it."
+
+So the elder brother looked in the mirror, and he was sore amazed;
+for he was an old man, and his hair was white upon his head; and he
+sat down in the hall and wept aloud.
+
+"Now," said the younger brother, "see what a fool's part you have
+played, that ran over all the world to seek what was lying in our
+father's treasury, and came back an old carle for the dogs to bark
+at, and without chick or child. And I that was dutiful and wise
+sit here crowned with virtues and pleasures, and happy in the light
+of my hearth."
+
+"Methinks you have a cruel tongue," said the elder brother; and he
+pulled out the clear pebble and turned its light on his brother;
+and behold the man was lying, his soul was shrunk into the
+smallness of a pea, and his heart was a bag of little fears like
+scorpions, and love was dead in his bosom. And at that the elder
+brother cried out aloud, and turned the light of the pebble on the
+maid, and, lo! she was but a mask of a woman, and withinside's she
+was quite dead, and she smiled as a clock ticks, and knew not
+wherefore.
+
+"Oh, well," said the elder brother, "I perceive there is both good
+and bad. So fare ye all as well as ye may in the dun; but I will
+go forth into the world with my pebble in my pocket."
+
+
+
+
+XIX. - THE POOR THING.
+
+
+THERE was a man in the islands who fished for his bare bellyful,
+and took his life in his hands to go forth upon the sea between
+four planks. But though he had much ado, he was merry of heart;
+and the gulls heard him laugh when the spray met him. And though
+he had little lore, he was sound of spirit; and when the fish came
+to his hook in the mid-waters, he blessed God without weighing. He
+was bitter poor in goods and bitter ugly of countenance, and he had
+no wife.
+
+It fell in the time of the fishing that the man awoke in his house
+about the midst of the afternoon. The fire burned in the midst,
+and the smoke went up and the sun came down by the chimney. And
+the man was aware of the likeness of one that warmed his hands at
+the red peats.
+
+"I greet you," said the man, "in the name of God."
+
+"I greet you," said he that warmed his hands, "but not in the name
+of God, for I am none of His; nor in the name of Hell, for I am not
+of Hell. For I am but a bloodless thing, less than wind and
+lighter than a sound, and the wind goes through me like a net, and
+I am broken by a sound and shaken by the cold."
+
+"Be plain with me," said the man, "and tell me your name and of
+your nature."
+
+"My name," quoth the other, "is not yet named, and my nature not
+yet sure. For I am part of a man; and I was a part of your
+fathers, and went out to fish and fight with them in the ancient
+days. But now is my turn not yet come; and I wait until you have a
+wife, and then shall I be in your son, and a brave part of him,
+rejoicing manfully to launch the boat into the surf, skilful to
+direct the helm, and a man of might where the ring closes and the
+blows are going."
+
+"This is a marvellous thing to hear," said the man; "and if you are
+indeed to be my son, I fear it will go ill with you; for I am
+bitter poor in goods and bitter ugly in face, and I shall never get
+me a wife if I live to the age of eagles."
+
+"All this hate I come to remedy, my Father," said the Poor Thing;
+"for we must go this night to the little isle of sheep, where our
+fathers lie in the dead-cairn, and to-morrow to the Earl's Hall,
+and there shall you find a wife by my providing."
+
+So the man rose and put forth his boat at the time of the
+sunsetting; and the Poor Thing sat in the prow, and the spray blew
+through his bones like snow, and the wind whistled in his teeth,
+and the boat dipped not with the weight of him.
+
+"I am fearful to see you, my son," said the man. " For methinks
+you are no thing of God."
+
+"It is only the wind that whistles in my teeth," said the Poor
+Thing, "and there is no life in me to keep it out."
+
+So they came to the little isle of sheep, where the surf burst all
+about it in the midst of the sea, and it was all green with
+bracken, and all wet with dew, and the moon enlightened it. They
+ran the boat into a cove, and set foot to land; and the man came
+heavily behind among the rocks in the deepness of the bracken, but
+the Poor Thing went before him like a smoke in the light of the
+moon. So they came to the dead-cairn, and they laid their ears to
+the stones; and the dead complained withinsides like a swarm of
+bees: "Time was that marrow was in our bones, and strength in our
+sinews; and the thoughts of our head were clothed upon with acts
+and the words of men. But now are we broken in sunder, and the
+bonds of our bones are loosed, and our thoughts lie in the dust."
+
+Then said the Poor Thing: "Charge them that they give you the
+virtue they withheld".
+
+And the man said: "Bones of my fathers, greeting! for I am sprung
+of your loins. And now, behold, I break open the piled stones of
+your cairn, and I let in the noon between your ribs. Count it well
+done, for it was to be; and give me what I come seeking in the name
+of blood and in the name of God."
+
+And the spirits of the dead stirred in the cairn like ants; and
+they spoke: "You have broken the roof of our cairn and let in the
+noon between our ribs; and you have the strength of the still-
+living. But what virtue have we? what power? or what jewel here in
+the dust with us, that any living man should covet or receive it?
+for we are less than nothing. But we tell you one thing, speaking
+with many voices like bees, that the way is plain before all like
+the grooves of launching: So forth into life and fear not, for so
+did we all in the ancient ages." And their voices passed away like
+an eddy in a river.
+
+"Now," said the Poor Thing, "they have told you a lesson, but make
+them give you a gift. Stoop your hand among the bones without
+drawback, and you shall find their treasure."
+
+So the man stooped his hand, and the dead laid hold upon it many
+and faint like ants; but he shook them off, and behold, what he
+brought up in his hand was the shoe of a horse, and it was rusty.
+
+"It is a thing of no price," quoth the man, "for it is rusty."
+
+"We shall see that," said the Poor Thing; "for in my thought it is
+a good thing to do what our fathers did, and to keep what they kept
+without question. And in my thought one thing is as good as
+another in this world; and a shoe of a horse will do."
+
+Now they got into their boat with the horseshoe, and when the dawn
+was come they were aware of the smoke of the Earl's town and the
+bells of the Kirk that beat. So they set foot to shore; and the
+man went up to the market among the fishers over against the palace
+and the Kirk; and he was bitter poor and bitter ugly, and he had
+never a fish to sell, but only a shoe of a horse in his creel, and
+it rusty.
+
+"Now," said the Poor Thing, "do so and so, and you shall find a
+wife and I a mother."
+
+It befell that the Earl's daughter came forth to go into the Kirk
+upon her prayers; and when she saw the poor man stand in the market
+with only the shoe of a horse, and it rusty, it came in her mind it
+should be a thing of price.
+
+"What is that?" quoth she.
+
+"It is a shoe of a horse," said the man.
+
+"And what is the use of it?" quoth the Earl's daughter.
+
+"It is for no use," said the man.
+
+"I may not believe that," said she; "else why should you carry it?"
+
+"I do so," said he, "because it was so my fathers did in the
+ancient ages; and I have neither a better reason nor a worse."
+
+Now the Earl's daughter could not find it in her mind to believe
+him. "Come," quoth she, "sell me this, for I am sure it is a thing
+of price."
+
+"Nay," said the man, "the thing is not for sale."
+
+"What!" cried the Earl's daughter. "Then what make you here in the
+town's market, with the thing in your creel and nought beside?"
+
+"I sit here," says the man, "to get me a wife."
+
+"There is no sense in any of these answers," thought the Earl's
+daughter; "and I could find it in my heart to weep."
+
+By came the Earl upon that; and she called him and told him all.
+And when he had heard, he was of his daughter's mind that this
+should be a thing of virtue; and charged the man to set a price
+upon the thing, or else be hanged upon the gallows; and that was
+near at hand, so that the man could see it.
+
+"The way of life is straight like the grooves of launching," quoth
+the man. "And if I am to be hanged let me be hanged."
+
+"Why!" cried the Earl, "will you set your neck against a shoe of a
+horse, and it rusty?"
+
+"In my thought," said the man, "one thing is as good as another in
+this world and a shoe of a horse will do."
+
+"This can never be," thought the Earl; and he stood and looked upon
+the man, and bit his beard.
+
+And the man looked up at him and smiled. "It was so my fathers did
+in the ancient ages," quoth he to the Earl, "and I have neither a
+better reason nor a worse."
+
+"There is no sense in any of this," thought the Earl, "and I must
+be growing old." So he had his daughter on one side, and says he:
+"Many suitors have you denied, my child. But here is a very
+strange matter that a man should cling so to a shoe of a horse, and
+it rusty; and that he should offer it like a thing on sale, and yet
+not sell it; and that he should sit there seeking a wife. If I
+come not to the bottom of this thing, I shall have no more pleasure
+in bread; and I can see no way, but either I should hang or you
+should marry him."
+
+"By my troth, but he is bitter ugly," said the Earl's daughter.
+"How if the gallows be so near at hand?"
+
+"It was not so," said the Earl, "that my fathers did in the ancient
+ages. I am like the man, and can give you neither a better reason
+nor a worse. But do you, prithee, speak with him again."
+
+So the Earl's daughter spoke to the man. "If you were not so
+bitter ugly," quoth she, "my father the Earl would have us marry."
+
+"Bitter ugly am I," said the man, "and you as fair as May. Bitter
+ugly I am, and what of that? It was so my fathers - "
+
+"In the name of God," said the Earl's daughter, "let your fathers
+be!"
+
+"If I had done that," said the man, "you had never been chaffering
+with me here in the market, nor your father the Earl watching with
+the end of his eye."
+
+"But come," quoth the Earl's daughter, "this is a very strange
+thing, that you would have me wed for a shoe of a horse, and it
+rusty."
+
+"In my thought," quoth the man, "one thing is as good - "
+
+"Oh, spare me that," said the Earl's daughter, "and tell me why I
+should marry."
+
+"Listen and look," said the man.
+
+Now the wind blew through the Poor Thing like an infant crying, so
+that her heart was melted; and her eyes were unsealed, and she was
+aware of the thing as it were a babe unmothered, and she took it to
+her arms, and it melted in her arms like the air.
+
+"Come," said the man, "behold a vision of our children, the busy
+hearth, and the white heads. And let that suffice, for it is all
+God offers."
+
+"I have no delight in it," said she; but with that she sighed.
+
+"The ways of life are straight like the grooves of launching," said
+the man; and he took her by the hand.
+
+"And what shall we do with the horseshoe?" quoth she.
+
+"I will give it to your father," said the man; "and he can make a
+kirk and a mill of it for me."
+
+It came to pass in time that the Poor Thing was born; but memory of
+these matters slept within him, and he knew not that which he had
+done. But he was a part of the eldest son; rejoicing manfully to
+launch the boat into the surf, skilful to direct the helm, and a
+man of might where the ring closes and the blows are going.
+
+
+
+
+XX. - THE SONG OF THE MORROW.
+
+
+THE King of Duntrine had a daughter when he was old, and she was
+the fairest King's daughter between two seas; her hair was like
+spun gold, and her eyes like pools in a river; and the King gave
+her a castle upon the sea beach, with a terrace, and a court of the
+hewn stone, and four towers at the four corners. Here she dwelt
+and grew up, and had no care for the morrow, and no power upon the
+hour, after the manner of simple men.
+
+It befell that she walked one day by the beach of the sea, when it
+was autumn, and the wind blew from the place of rains; and upon the
+one hand of her the sea beat, and upon the other the dead leaves
+ran. This was the loneliest beach between two seas, and strange
+things had been done there in the ancient ages. Now the King's
+daughter was aware of a crone that sat upon the beach. The sea
+foam ran to her feet, and the dead leaves swarmed about her back,
+and the rags blew about her face in the blowing of the wind.
+
+"Now," said the King's daughter, and she named a holy name, "this
+is the most unhappy old crone between two seas."
+
+"Daughter of a King," said the crone, "you dwell in a stone house,
+and your hair is like the gold: but what is your profit? Life is
+not long, nor lives strong; and you live after the way of simple
+men, and have no thought for the morrow and no power upon the
+hour."
+
+"Thought for the morrow, that I have," said the King's daughter;
+"but power upon the hour, that have I not." And she mused with
+herself.
+
+Then the crone smote her lean hands one within the other, and
+laughed like a sea-gull. "Home!" cried she. "O daughter of a
+King, home to your stone house; for the longing is come upon you
+now, nor can you live any more after the manner of simple men.
+Home, and toil and suffer, till the gift come that will make you
+bare, and till the man come that will bring you care."
+
+The King's daughter made no more ado, but she turned about and went
+home to her house in silence. And when she was come into her
+chamber she called for her nurse.
+
+"Nurse," said the King's daughter, "thought is come upon me for the
+morrow, so that I can live no more after the manner of simple men.
+Tell me what I must do that I may have power upon the hour."
+
+Then the nurse moaned like a snow wind. "Alas!" said she, "that
+this thing should be; but the thought is gone into your marrow, nor
+is there any cure against the thought. Be it so, then, even as you
+will; though power is less than weakness, power shall you have; and
+though the thought is colder than winter, yet shall you think it to
+an end."
+
+So the King's daughter sat in her vaulted chamber in the masoned
+house, and she thought upon the thought. Nine years she sat; and
+the sea beat upon the terrace, and the gulls cried about the
+turrets, and wind crooned in the chimneys of the house. Nine years
+she came not abroad, nor tasted the clean air, neither saw God's
+sky. Nine years she sat and looked neither to the right nor to the
+left, nor heard speech of any one, but thought upon the thought of
+the morrow. And her nurse fed her in silence, and she took of the
+food with her left hand, and ate it without grace.
+
+Now when the nine years were out, it fell dusk in the autumn, and
+there came a sound in the wind like a sound of piping. At that the
+nurse lifted up her finger in the vaulted house.
+
+"I hear a sound in the wind," said she, "that is like the sound of
+piping."
+
+"It is but a little sound," said the King's daughter, "but yet is
+it sound enough for me."
+
+So they went down in the dusk to the doors of the house, and along
+the beach of the sea. And the waves beat upon the one hand, and
+upon the other the dead leaves ran; and the clouds raced in the
+sky, and the gulls flew widdershins. And when they came to that
+part of the beach where strange things had been done in the ancient
+ages, lo, there was the crone, and she was dancing widdershins.
+
+"What makes you dance widdershins, old crone?" said the King's
+daughter; "here upon the bleak beach, between the waves and the
+dead leaves?"
+
+"I hear a sound in the wind that is like a sound of piping," quoth
+she. "And it is for that that I dance widdershins. For the gift
+comes that will make you bare, and the man comes that must bring
+you care. But for me the morrow is come that I have thought upon,
+and the hour of my power."
+
+"How comes it, crone," said the King's daughter, "that you waver
+like a rag, and pale like a dead leaf before my eyes?"
+
+"Because the morrow has come that I have thought upon, and the hour
+of my power," said the crone; and she fell on the beach, and, lo!
+she was but stalks of the sea tangle, and dust of the sea sand, and
+the sand lice hopped upon the place of her.
+
+"This is the strangest thing that befell between two seas," said
+the King's daughter of Duntrine.
+
+But the nurse broke out and moaned like an autumn gale. "I am
+weary of the wind," quoth she; and she bewailed her day.
+
+The King's daughter was aware of a man upon the beach; he went
+hooded so that none might perceive his face, and a pipe was
+underneath his arm. The sound of his pipe was like singing wasps,
+and like the wind that sings in windlestraw; and it took hold upon
+men's ears like the crying of gulls.
+
+"Are you the comer?" quoth the King's daughter of Duntrine.
+
+"I am the corner," said he, "and these are the pipes that a man may
+hear, and I have power upon the hour, and this is the song of the
+morrow." And he piped the song of the morrow, and it was as long
+as years; and the nurse wept out aloud at the hearing of it.
+
+"This is true," said the King's daughter, "that you pipe the song
+of the morrow; but that ye have power upon the hour, how may I know
+that? Show me a marvel here upon the beach, between the waves and
+the dead leaves."
+
+And the man said, "Upon whom?"
+
+"Here is my nurse," quoth the King's daughter. "She is weary of
+the wind. Show me a good marvel upon her."
+
+And, lo! the nurse fell upon the beach as it were two handfuls of
+dead leaves, and the wind whirled them widdershins, and the sand
+lice hopped between.
+
+"It is true," said the King's daughter of Duntrine, "you are the
+comer, and you have power upon the hour. Come with me to my stone
+house."
+
+So they went by the sea margin, and the man piped the song of the
+morrow, and the leaves followed behind them as they went.
+
+Then they sat down together; and the sea beat on the terrace, and
+the gulls cried about the towers, and the wind crooned in the
+chimneys of the house. Nine years they sat, and every year when it
+fell autumn, the man said, "This is the hour, and I have power in
+it"; and the daughter of the King said, "Nay, but pipe me the song
+of the morrow". And he piped it, and it was long like years.
+
+Now when the nine years were gone, the King's daughter of Duntrine
+got her to her feet, like one that remembers; and she looked about
+her in the masoned house; and all her servants were gone; only the
+man that piped sat upon the terrace with the hand upon his face;
+and as he piped the leaves ran about the terrace and the sea beat
+along the wall. Then she cried to him with a great voice, "This is
+the hour, and let me see the power in it". And with that the wind
+blew off the hood from the man's face, and, lo! there was no man
+there, only the clothes and the hood and the pipes tumbled one upon
+another in a corner of the terrace, and the dead leaves ran over
+them.
+
+And the King's daughter of Duntrine got her to that part of the
+beach where strange things had been done in the ancient ages; and
+there she sat her down. The sea foam ran to her feet, and the dead
+leaves swarmed about her back, and the veil blew about her face in
+the blowing of the wind. And when she lifted up her eyes, there
+was the daughter of a King come walking on the beach. Her hair was
+like the spun gold, and her eyes like pools in a river, and she had
+no thought for the morrow and no power upon the hour, after the
+manner of simple men.
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg eText Fables by Robert Louis Stevenson
+