diff options
Diffstat (limited to '9485-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 9485-h/9485-h.htm | 5732 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9485-h/images/1st.jpg | bin | 0 -> 70093 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9485-h/images/2nd.jpg | bin | 0 -> 95761 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9485-h/images/3rd.jpg | bin | 0 -> 127398 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9485-h/images/4th.jpg | bin | 0 -> 124663 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9485-h/images/5th.jpg | bin | 0 -> 72669 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9485-h/images/6th.jpg | bin | 0 -> 17690 bytes |
7 files changed, 5732 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/9485-h/9485-h.htm b/9485-h/9485-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a4591de --- /dev/null +++ b/9485-h/9485-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5732 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<title>A Little Book of Profitable Tales</title> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= +"text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> +<style type="text/css"> +<!-- +body {margin:10%; text-align:justify} +img {border: 0;} +blockquote {font-size:14pt} +P {font-size:14pt} +--> +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's A Little Book of Profitable Tales, by Eugene Field + +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: A Little Book of Profitable Tales + +Author: Eugene Field + +Posting Date: March 31, 2014 [EBook #9485] +Release Date: December, 2005 +First Posted: October 5, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A LITTLE BOOK OF PROFITABLE TALES *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Sheila Vogtmann and PG +Distributed Proofreaders. + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<center> +<h1>THE WRITINGS IN PROSE AND VERSE OF EUGENE FIELD </h1> +<br> +<h2>A LITTLE BOOK OF PROFITABLE TALES</h2> +<br><br><br> +<h3>NEW YORK 1901</h3> +<br><br><br> +<h2>by EUGENE FIELD.</h2> +</center> + +<br><br> +<p><br> +</p> +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p>TO MY SEVEREST CRITIC, MY MOST LOYAL ADMIRER, AND MY ONLY +DAUGHTER, MARY FRENCH FIELD, THIS LITTLE BOOK OF PROFITABLE TALES +IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. E.F.</p> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p>INTRODUCTION</p> + +<p>I have never read a poem by Mr. Field without feeling +personally drawn to the author. Long after I had known him as a +poet, I found that he had written in prose little scraps or long +essays, which had attracted me in just the same way, when I had +met with them in the newspapers, although I had not known who the +author was.</p> + +<p>All that he writes indeed is quite free from the +conventionalisms to which authorship as a profession is sadly +liable. Because he is free from them, you read his poems or you +read his prose, and are affected as if you met him. If you were +riding in a Pullman car with him, or if you were talking with him +at breakfast over your coffee, he would say just such things in +just this way. If he had any art, it was the art of concealing +art. But I do not think that he thought much of art. I do not +think that he cared much for what people say about criticism or +style. He wrote as he felt, or as he thought, without troubling +himself much about method. It is this simplicity, or what it is +the fashion of the day to call frankness, which gives a singular +charm to his writing.</p> + +<p>EDWARD E. HALE.</p> + +<p>The Tales in this Little Book</p> + +<p>THE FIRST CHRISTMAS TREE</p> + +<p>THE SYMBOL AND THE SAINT</p> + +<p>THE COMING OF THE PRINCE</p> + +<p>THE MOUSE AND THE MOONBEAM</p> + +<p>THE DIVELL'S CHRYSTMASS</p> + +<p>THE MOUNTAIN AND THE SEA</p> + +<p>THE ROBIN AND THE VIOLET</p> + +<p>THE OAK-TREE AND THE IVY</p> + +<p>MARGARET: A PEARL</p> + +<p>THE SPRINGTIME</p> + +<p>RODOLPH AND HIS KING</p> + +<p>THE HAMPSHIRE HILLS</p> + +<p>EZRA'S THANKSGIVIN' OUT WEST</p> + +<p>LUDWIG AND ELOISE</p> + +<p>FIDO'S LITTLE FRIEND</p> + +<p>THE OLD MAN</p> + +<p>BILL, THE LOKIL EDITOR</p> + +<p>THE LITTLE YALLER BABY</p> + +<p>THE CYCLOPEEDY</p> + +<p>DOCK STEBBINS</p> + +<p>THE FAIRIES OF PESTH</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><b>The First Christmas Tree</b></p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p>THE FIRST CHRISTMAS TREE</p> + +<p>Once upon a time the forest was in a great commotion. Early in +the evening the wise old cedars had shaken their heads ominously +and predicted strange things. They had lived in the forest many, +many years; but never had they seen such marvellous sights as +were to be seen now in the sky, and upon the hills, and in the +distant village.</p> + +<p>"Pray tell us what you see," pleaded a little vine; "we who +are not as tall as you can behold none of these wonderful things. +Describe them to us, that we may enjoy them with you."</p> + +<p>"I am filled with such amazement," said one of the cedars, +"that I can hardly speak. The whole sky seems to be aflame, and +the stars appear to be dancing among the clouds; angels walk down +from heaven to the earth, and enter the village or talk with the +shepherds upon the hills."</p> + +<p>The vine listened in mute astonishment. Such things never +before had happened. The vine trembled with excitement. Its +nearest neighbor was a tiny tree, so small it scarcely ever was +noticed; yet it was a very beautiful little tree, and the vines +and ferns and mosses and other humble residents of the forest +loved it dearly.</p> + +<p>"How I should like to see the angels!" sighed the little tree, +"and how I should like to see the stars dancing among the clouds! +It must be very beautiful."</p> + +<p>As the vine and the little tree talked of these things, the +cedars watched with increasing interest the wonderful scenes over +and beyond the confines of the forest. Presently they thought +they heard music, and they were not mistaken, for soon the whole +air was full of the sweetest harmonies ever heard upon earth.</p> + +<p>"What beautiful music!" cried the little tree. "I wonder +whence it comes."</p> + +<p>"The angels are singing," said a cedar; "for none but angels +could make such sweet music."</p> + +<p>"But the stars are singing, too," said another cedar; "yes, +and the shepherds on the hills join in the song, and what a +strangely glorious song it is!"</p> + +<p>The trees listened to the singing, but they did not understand +its meaning: it seemed to be an anthem, and it was of a Child +that had been born; but further than this they did not +understand. The strange and glorious song continued all the +night; and all that night the angels walked to and fro, and the +shepherd-folk talked with the angels, and the stars danced and +carolled in high heaven. And it was nearly morning when the +cedars cried out, "They are coming to the forest! the angels are +coming to the forest!" And, surely enough, this was true. The +vine and the little tree were very terrified, and they begged +their older and stronger neighbors to protect them from harm. But +the cedars were too busy with their own fears to pay any heed to +the faint pleadings of the humble vine and the little tree. The +angels came into the forest, singing the same glorious anthem +about the Child, and the stars sang in chorus with them, until +every part of the woods rang with echoes of that wondrous song. +There was nothing in the appearance of this angel host to inspire +fear; they were clad all in white, and there were crowns upon +their fair heads, and golden harps in their hands; love, hope, +charity, compassion, and joy beamed from their beautiful faces, +and their presence seemed to fill the forest with a divine peace. +The angels came through the forest to where the little tree +stood, and gathering around it, they touched it with their hands, +and kissed its little branches, and sang even more sweetly than +before. And their song was about the Child, the Child, the Child +that had been born. Then the stars came down from the skies and +danced and hung upon the branches of the tree, and they, too, +sang that song,—the song of the Child. And all the other trees +and the vines and the ferns and the mosses beheld in wonder; nor +could they understand why all these things were being done, and +why this exceeding honor should be shown the little tree.</p> + +<p>When the morning came the angels left the forest,—all but one +angel, who remained behind and lingered near the little tree. +Then a cedar asked: "Why do you tarry with us, holy angel?" And +the angel answered: "I stay to guard this little tree, for it is +sacred, and no harm shall come to it."</p> + +<p>The little tree felt quite relieved by this assurance, and it +held up its head more confidently than ever before. And how it +thrived and grew, and waxed in strength and beauty! The cedars +said they never had seen the like. The sun seemed to lavish its +choicest rays upon the little tree, heaven dropped its sweetest +dew upon it, and the winds never came to the forest that they did +not forget their rude manners and linger to kiss the little tree +and sing it their prettiest songs. No danger ever menaced it, no +harm threatened; for the angel never slept,—through the day and +through the night the angel watched the little tree and protected +it from all evil. Oftentimes the trees talked with the angel; but +of course they understood little of what he said, for he spoke +always of the Child who was to become the Master; and always when +thus he talked, he caressed the little tree, and stroked its +branches and leaves, and moistened them with his tears. It all +was so very strange that none in the forest could understand.</p> + +<p>So the years passed, the angel watching his blooming charge. +Sometimes the beasts strayed toward the little tree and +threatened to devour its tender foliage; sometimes the woodman +came with his axe, intent upon hewing down the straight and +comely thing; sometimes the hot, consuming breath of drought +swept from the south, and sought to blight the forest and all its +verdure: the angel kept them from the little tree. Serene and +beautiful it grew, until now it was no longer a little tree, but +the pride and glory of the forest.</p> + +<p>One day the tree heard some one coming through the forest. +Hitherto the angel had hastened to its side when men approached; +but now the angel strode away and stood under the cedars +yonder.</p> + +<p>"Dear angel," cried the tree, "can you not hear the footsteps +of some one approaching? Why do you leave me?"</p> + +<p>"Have no fear," said the angel; "for He who comes is the +Master."</p> + +<p>The Master came to the tree and beheld it. He placed His hands +upon its smooth trunk and branches, and the tree was thrilled +with a strange and glorious delight. Then He stooped and kissed +the tree, and then He turned and went away.</p> + +<p>Many times after that the Master came to the forest, and when +He came it always was to where the tree stood. Many times He +rested beneath the tree and enjoyed the shade of its foliage, and +listened to the music of the wind as it swept through the +rustling leaves. Many times He slept there, and the tree watched +over Him, and the forest was still, and all its voices were +hushed. And the angel hovered near like a faithful sentinel.</p> + +<p>Ever and anon men came with the Master to the forest, and sat +with Him in the shade of the tree, and talked with Him of matters +which the tree never could understand; only it heard that the +talk was of love and charity and gentleness, and it saw that the +Master was beloved and venerated by the others. It heard them +tell of the Master's goodness and humility,—how He had healed +the sick and raised the dead and bestowed inestimable blessings +wherever He walked. And the tree loved the Master for His beauty +and His goodness; and when He came to the forest it was full of +joy, but when He came not it was sad. And the other trees of the +forest joined in its happiness and its sorrow, for they, too, +loved the Master. And the angel always hovered near.</p> + +<p>The Master came one night alone into the forest, and His face +was pale with anguish and wet with tears, and He fell upon His +knees and prayed. The tree heard Him, and all the forest was +still, as if it were standing in the presence of death. And when +the morning came, lo! the angel had gone.</p> + +<p>Then there was a great confusion in the forest. There was a +sound of rude voices, and a clashing of swords and staves. +Strange men appeared, uttering loud oaths and cruel threats, and +the tree was filled with terror. It called aloud for the angel, +but the angel came not.</p> + +<p>"Alas," cried the vine, "they have come to destroy the tree, +the pride and glory of the forest!"</p> + +<p>The forest was sorely agitated, but it was in vain. The +strange men plied their axes with cruel vigor, and the tree was +hewn to the ground. Its beautiful branches were cut away and cast +aside, and its soft, thick foliage was strewn to the tenderer +mercies of the winds.</p> + +<p>"They are killing me!" cried the tree; "why is not the angel +here to protect me?"</p> + +<p>But no one heard the piteous cry,—none but the other trees of +the forest; and they wept, and the little vine wept too.</p> + +<p>Then the cruel men dragged the despoiled and hewn tree from +the forest, and the forest saw that beauteous thing no more.</p> + +<p>But the night wind that swept down from the City of the Great +King that night to ruffle the bosom of distant Galilee, tarried +in the forest awhile to say that it had seen that day a cross +upraised on Calvary,—the tree on which was stretched the body of +the dying Master.</p> + +<p>1884.</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><b>The Symbol and the Saint</b></p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p>THE SYMBOL AND THE SAINT</p> + +<p>Once upon a time a young man made ready for a voyage. His name +was Norss; broad were his shoulders, his cheeks were ruddy, his +hair was fair and long, his body betokened strength, and +good-nature shone from his blue eyes and lurked about the corners +of his mouth.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" asked his neighbor Jans, the +forge-master.</p> + +<p>"I am going sailing for a wife," said Norss.</p> + +<p>"For a wife, indeed!" cried Jans. "And why go you to seek her +in foreign lands? Are not our maidens good enough and fair +enough, that you must need search for a wife elsewhere? For +shame, Norss! for shame!"</p> + +<p>But Norss said, "A spirit came to me in my dreams last night +and said, 'Launch the boat and set sail to-morrow. Have no fear; +for I will guide you to the bride that awaits you.' Then, +standing there, all white and beautiful, the spirit held forth a +symbol—such as I had never before seen—in the figure of a +cross, and the spirit said: 'By this symbol shall she be known to +you.'"</p> + +<p>"If this be so, you must need go," said Jans. "But are you +well victualled? Come to my cabin, and let me give you venison +and bear's meat."</p> + +<p>Norss shook his head. "The spirit will provide," said he. "I +have no fear, and I shall take no care, trusting in the +spirit."</p> + +<p>So Norss pushed his boat down the beach into the sea, and +leaped into the boat, and unfurled the sail to the wind. Jan +stood wondering on the beach, and watched the boat speed out of +sight.</p> + +<p>On, on, many days on sailed Norss,—so many leagues that he +thought he must have compassed the earth. In all this time he +knew no hunger nor thirst; it was as the spirit had told him in +his dream,—no cares nor dangers beset him. By day the dolphins +and the other creatures of the sea gambolled about his boat; by +night a beauteous Star seemed to direct his course; and when he +slept and dreamed, he saw ever the spirit clad in white, and +holding forth to him the symbol in the similitude of a cross.</p> + +<p>At last he came to a strange country,—a country so very +different from his own that he could scarcely trust his senses. +Instead of the rugged mountains of the North, he saw a gentle +landscape of velvety green; the trees were not pines and firs, +but cypresses, cedars, and palms; instead of the cold, crisp air +of his native land, he scented the perfumed zephyrs of the +Orient; and the wind that filled the sail of his boat and smote +his tanned cheeks was heavy and hot with the odor of cinnamon and +spices. The waters were calm and blue,—very different from the +white and angry waves of Norss's native fiord.</p> + +<p>As if guided by an unseen hand, the boat pointed straight for +the beach of this strangely beautiful land; and ere its prow +cleaved the shallower waters, Norss saw a maiden standing on the +shore, shading her eyes with her right hand, and gazing intently +at him. She was the most beautiful maiden he had ever looked +upon. As Norss was fair, so was this maiden dark; her black hair +fell loosely about her shoulders in charming contrast with the +white raiment in which her slender, graceful form was clad. +Around her neck she wore a golden chain, and therefrom was +suspended a small symbol, which Norss did not immediately +recognize.</p> + +<p>"Hast thou come sailing out of the North into the East?" asked +the maiden.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Norss.</p> + +<p>"And thou art Norss?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I am Norss; and I come seeking my bride," he answered.</p> + +<p>"I am she," said the maiden. "My name is Faia. An angel came +to me in my dreams last night, and the angel said: 'Stand upon +the beach to-day, and Norss shall come out of the North to bear +thee home a bride.' So, coming here, I found thee sailing to our +shore."</p> + +<p>Remembering then the spirit's words, Norss said: "What symbol +have you, Faia, that I may know how truly you have spoken?"</p> + +<p>"No symbol have I but this," said Faia, holding out the symbol +that was attached to the golden chain about her neck. Norss +looked upon it, and lo! it was the symbol of his dreams,—a tiny +wooden cross.</p> + +<p>Then Norss clasped Faia in his arms and kissed her, and +entering into the boat they sailed away into the North. In all +their voyage neither care nor danger beset them; for as it had +been told to them in their dreams, so it came to pass. By day the +dolphins and the other creatures of the sea gambolled about them; +by night the winds and the waves sang them to sleep; and, +strangely enough, the Star which before had led Norss into the +East, now shone bright and beautiful in the Northern sky!</p> + +<p>When Norss and his bride reached their home, Jans, the +forge-master, and the other neighbors made great joy, and all +said that Faia was more beautiful than any other maiden in the +land. So merry was Jans that he built a huge fire in his forge, +and the flames thereof filled the whole Northern sky with rays of +light that danced up, up, up to the Star, singing glad songs the +while. So Norss and Faia were wed, and they went to live in the +cabin in the fir-grove.</p> + +<p>To these two was born in good time a son, whom they named +Claus. On the night that he was born wondrous things came to +pass. To the cabin in the fir-grove came all the quaint, weird +spirits,—the fairies, the elves, the trolls, the pixies, the +fadas, the crions, the goblins, the kobolds, the moss-people, the +gnomes, the dwarfs, the water-sprites, the courils, the bogles, +the brownies, the nixies, the trows, the stille-volk,—all came +to the cabin in the fir-grove, and capered about and sang the +strange, beautiful songs of the Mist-Land. And the flames of old +Jans's forge leaped up higher than ever into the Northern sky, +carrying the joyous tidings to the Star, and full of music was +that happy night.</p> + +<p>Even in infancy Claus did marvellous things. With his baby +hands he wrought into pretty figures the willows that were given +him to play with. As he grew older, he fashioned, with the knife +old Jans had made for him, many curious toys,—carts, horses, +dogs, lambs, houses, trees, cats, and birds, all of wood and very +like to nature. His mother taught him how to make dolls +too,—dolls of every kind, condition, temper, and color; proud +dolls, homely dolls, boy dolls, lady dolls, wax dolls, rubber +dolls, paper dolls, worsted dolls, rag dolls,—dolls of every +description and without end. So Claus became at once quite as +popular with the little girls as with the little boys of his +native village; for he was so generous that he gave away all +these pretty things as fast as he made them.</p> + +<p>Claus seemed to know by instinct every language. As he grew +older he would ramble off into the woods and talk with the trees, +the rocks, and the beasts of the greenwood; or he would sit on +the cliffs overlooking the fiord, and listen to the stories that +the waves of the sea loved to tell him; then, too, he knew the +haunts of the elves and the stille-volk, and many a pretty tale +he learned from these little people. When night came, old Jans +told him the quaint legends of the North, and his mother sang to +him the lullabies she had heard when a little child herself in +the far-distant East. And every night his mother held out to him +the symbol in the similitude of the cross, and bade him kiss it +ere he went to sleep.</p> + +<p>So Claus grew to manhood, increasing each day in knowledge and +in wisdom. His works increased too; and his liberality dispensed +everywhere the beauteous things which his fancy conceived and his +skill executed. Jans, being now a very old man, and having no son +of his own, gave to Claus his forge and workshop, and taught him +those secret arts which he in youth had learned from cunning +masters. Right joyous now was Claus; and many, many times the +Northern sky glowed with the flames that danced singing from the +forge while Claus moulded his pretty toys. Every color of the +rainbow were these flames; for they reflected the bright colors +of the beauteous things strewn round that wonderful workshop. +Just as of old he had dispensed to all children alike the +homelier toys of his youth, so now he gave to all children alike +these more beautiful and more curious gifts. So little children +everywhere loved Claus, because he gave them pretty toys, and +their parents loved him because he made their little ones so +happy.</p> + +<p>But now Norss and Faia were come to old age. After long years +of love and happiness, they knew that death could not be far +distant. And one day Faia said to Norss: "Neither you nor I, dear +love, fear death; but if we could choose, would we not choose to +live always in this our son Claus, who has been so sweet a joy to +us?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay," said Norss; "but how is that possible?"</p> + +<p>"We shall see," said Faia.</p> + +<p>That night Norss dreamed that a spirit came to him, and that +the spirit said to him: "Norss, thou shalt surely live forever in +thy son Claus, if thou wilt but acknowledge the symbol."</p> + +<p>Then when the morning was come Norss told his dream to Faia, +his wife; and Faia said,—</p> + +<p>"The same dream had I,—an angel appearing to me and speaking +these very words."</p> + +<p>"But what of the symbol?" cried Norss.</p> + +<p>"I have it here, about my neck," said Faia.</p> + +<p>So saying, Faia drew from her bosom the symbol of wood,—a +tiny cross suspended about her neck by the golden chain. And as +she stood there holding the symbol out to Norss, he—he thought +of the time when first he saw her on the far-distant Orient +shore, standing beneath the Star in all her maidenly glory, +shading her beauteous eyes with one hand, and with the other +clasping the cross,—the holy talisman of her faith.</p> + +<p>"Faia, Faia!" cried Norss, "it is the same,—the same you wore +when I fetched you a bride from the East!"</p> + +<p>"It is the same." said Faia, "yet see how my kisses and my +prayers have worn it away; for many, many times in these years, +dear Norss, have I pressed it to my lips and breathed your name +upon it. See now—see what a beauteous light its shadow makes +upon your aged face!"</p> + +<p>The sunbeams, indeed, streaming through the window at that +moment, cast the shadow of the symbol on old Norss's brow. Norss +felt a glorious warmth suffuse him, his heart leaped with joy, +and he stretched out his arms and fell about Faia's neck, and +kissed the symbol and acknowledged it. Then likewise did Faia; +and suddenly the place was filled with a wondrous brightness and +with strange music, and never thereafter were Norss and Faia +beholden of men.</p> + +<p>Until late that night Claus toiled at his forge; for it was a +busy season with him, and he had many, many curious and beauteous +things to make for the little children in the country round +about. The colored flames leaped singing from his forge, so that +the Northern sky seemed to be lighted by a thousand rainbows; but +above all this voiceful glory beamed the Star, bright, beautiful, +serene.</p> + +<p>Coming late to the cabin in the fir-grove, Claus wondered that +no sign of his father or of his mother was to be seen. +"Father—mother!" he cried, but he received no answer. Just then +the Star cast its golden gleam through the latticed window, and +this strange, holy light fell and rested upon the symbol of the +cross that lay upon the floor. Seeing it, Claus stooped and +picked it up, and kissing it reverently, he cried: "Dear +talisman, be thou my inspiration evermore; and wheresoever thy +blessed influence is felt, there also let my works be known +henceforth forever!"</p> + +<p>No sooner had he said these words than Claus felt the gift of +immortality bestowed upon him; and in that moment, too, there +came to him a knowledge that his parents' prayer had been +answered, and that Norss and Faia would live in him through all +time.</p> + +<p>And lo! to that place and in that hour came all the people of +Mist-Land and of Dream-Land to declare allegiance to him: yes, +the elves, the fairies, the pixies,—all came to Claus, prepared +to do his bidding. Joyously they capered about him, and merrily +they sang.</p> + +<p>"Now haste ye all," cried Claus,—"haste ye all to your homes +and bring to my workshop the best ye have. Search, little +hill-people, deep in the bowels of the earth for finest gold and +choicest jewels; fetch me, O mermaids, from the bottom of the sea +the treasures hidden there,—the shells of rainbow tints, the +smooth, bright pebbles, and the strange ocean flowers; go, +pixies, and other water-sprites, to your secret lakes, and bring +me pearls! Speed! speed you all! for many pretty things have we +to make for the little ones of earth we love!"</p> + +<p>But to the kobolds and the brownies Claus said: "Fly to every +house on earth where the cross is known; loiter unseen in the +corners, and watch and hear the children through the day. Keep a +strict account of good and bad, and every night bring back to me +the names of good and bad, that I may know them."</p> + +<p>The kobolds and the brownies laughed gleefully, and sped away +on noiseless wings; and so, too, did the other fairies and +elves.</p> + +<p>There came also to Claus the beasts of the forest and the +birds of the air, and bade him be their master. And up danced the +Four Winds, and they said: "May we not serve you, too?"</p> + +<p>The snow-king came stealing along in his feathery chariot. +"Oho!" he cried, "I shall speed over all the world and tell them +you are coming. In town and country, on the mountain-tops and in +the valleys,—wheresoever the cross is raised,—there will I +herald your approach, and thither will I strew you a pathway of +feathery white. Oho! oho!" So, singing softly, the snow-king +stole upon his way.</p> + +<p>But of all the beasts that begged to do him service, Claus +liked the reindeer best. "You shall go with me in my travels; for +henceforth I shall bear my treasures not only to the children of +the North, but to the children in every land whither the Star +points me and where the cross is lifted up!" So said Claus to the +reindeer, and the reindeer neighed joyously and stamped their +hoofs impatiently, as though they longed to start +immediately.</p> + +<p>Oh, many, many times has Claus whirled away from his far +Northern home in his sledge drawn by the reindeer, and thousands +upon thousands of beautiful gifts—all of his own making—has he +borne to the children of every land; for he loves them all alike, +and they all alike love him, I trow. So truly do they love him +that they call him Santa Claus, and I am sure that he must be a +saint; for he has lived these many hundred years, and we, who +know that he was born of Faith and Love, believe that he will +live forever.</p> + +<p>1886.</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><b>The Coming of the Prince</b></p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p>THE COMING OF THE PRINCE</p> + +<p>I</p> + +<p>Whirr-r-r! whirr-r-r! whirr-r-r!" said the wind, and it tore +through the streets of the city that Christmas eve, turning +umbrellas inside out, driving the snow in fitful gusts before it, +creaking the rusty signs and shutters, and playing every kind of +rude prank it could think of.</p> + +<p>"How cold your breath is to-night!" said Barbara, with a +shiver, as she drew her tattered little shawl the closer around +her benumbed body.</p> + +<p>"Whirr-r-r! whirr-r-r! whirr-r-r!" answered the wind; "but why +are you out in this storm? You should be at home by the warm +fire."</p> + +<p>"I have no home," said Barbara; and then she sighed bitterly, +and something like a tiny pearl came in the corner of one of her +sad blue eyes.</p> + +<p>But the wind did not hear her answer, for it had hurried up +the street to throw a handful of snow in the face of an old man +who was struggling along with a huge basket of good things on +each arm.</p> + +<p>"Why are you not at the cathedral?" asked a snowflake, as it +alighted on Barbara's shoulder. "I heard grand music, and saw +beautiful lights there as I floated down from the sky a moment +ago."</p> + +<p>"What are they doing at the cathedral?" inquired Barbara.</p> + +<p>"Why, haven't you heard?" exclaimed the snowflake. "I supposed +everybody knew that the prince was coming to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Surely enough; this is Christmas eve," said Barbara, "and the +prince will come tomorrow."</p> + +<p>Barbara remembered that her mother had told her about the +prince, how beautiful and good and kind and gentle he was, and +how he loved the little children; but her mother was dead now, +and there was none to tell Barbara of the prince and his +coming,—none but the little snowflake.</p> + +<p>"I should like to see the prince," said Barbara, "for I have +heard he was very beautiful and good."</p> + +<p>"That he is," said the snowflake. "I have never seen him, but +I heard the pines and the firs singing about him as I floated +over the forest to-night."</p> + +<p>"Whirr-r-r! whirr-r-r!" cried the wind, returning boisterously +to where Barbara stood. "I've been looking for you everywhere, +little snowflake! So come with me."</p> + +<p>And without any further ado, the wind seized upon the +snowflake and hurried it along the street and led it a merry +dance through the icy air of the winter night.</p> + +<p>Barbara trudged on through the snow and looked in at the +bright things in the shop windows. The glitter of the lights and +the sparkle of the vast array of beautiful Christmas toys quite +dazzled her. A strange mingling of admiration, regret, and envy +filled the poor little creature's heart.</p> + +<p>"Much as I may yearn to have them, it cannot be," she said to +herself, "yet I may feast my eyes upon them."</p> + +<p>"Go away from here!" said a harsh voice. "How can the rich +people see all my fine things if you stand before the window? Be +off with you, you miserable little beggar!"</p> + +<p>It was the shopkeeper, and he gave Barbara a savage box on the +ear that sent her reeling into the deeper snowdrifts of the +gutter.</p> + +<p>Presently she came to a large house where there seemed to be +much mirth and festivity. The shutters were thrown open, and +through the windows Barbara could see a beautiful Christmas tree +in the centre of a spacious room,—a beautiful Christmas tree +ablaze with red and green lights, and heavy with toys and stars +and glass balls, and other beautiful things that children love. +There was a merry throng around the tree, and the children were +smiling and gleeful, and all in that house seemed content and +happy. Barbara heard them singing, and their song was about the +prince who was to come on the morrow.</p> + +<p>"This must be the house where the prince will stop," thought +Barbara. "How I would like to see his face and hear his +voice!—yet what would he care for <i>me</i>, a 'miserable little +beggar'?"</p> + +<p>So Barbara crept on through the storm, shivering and +disconsolate, yet thinking of the prince.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" she asked of the wind as it overtook +her.</p> + +<p>"To the cathedral," laughed the wind. "The great people are +flocking there, and I will have a merry time amongst them, ha, +ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>And with laughter the wind whirled away and chased the snow +toward the cathedral.</p> + +<p>"It is there, then, that the prince will come," thought +Barbara. "It is a beautiful place, and the people will pay him +homage there. Perhaps I shall see him if I go there."</p> + +<p>So she went to the cathedral. Many folk were there in their +richest apparel, and the organ rolled out its grand music, and +the people sang wondrous songs, and the priests made eloquent +prayers; and the music, and the songs, and the prayers were all +about the prince and his expected coming. The throng that swept +in and out of the great edifice talked always of the prince, the +prince, the prince, until Barbara really loved him very much, for +all the gentle words she heard the people say of him.</p> + +<p>"Please, can I go and sit inside?" inquired Barbara of the +sexton.</p> + +<p>"No!" said the sexton, gruffly, for this was an important +occasion with the sexton, and he had no idea of wasting words on +a beggar child.</p> + +<p>"But I will be very good and quiet," pleaded Barbara. "Please, +may I not see the prince?"</p> + +<p>"I have said no, and I mean it," retorted the sexton. "What +have you for the prince, or what cares the prince for you? Out +with you, and don't be blocking up the doorway!" So the sexton +gave Barbara an angry push, and the child fell half-way down the +icy steps of the cathedral. She began to cry. Some great people +were entering the cathedral at the time, and they laughed to see +her falling.</p> + +<p>"Have you seen the prince?" inquired a snowflake, alighting on +Barbara's cheek. It was the same little snowflake that had clung +to her shawl an hour ago, when the wind came galloping along on +his boisterous search.</p> + +<p>"Ah, no!" sighed Barbara, in tears; "but what cares the prince +for <i>me</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Do not speak so bitterly," said the little snowflake. "Go to +the forest and you shall see him, for the prince always comes +through the forest to the city."</p> + +<p>Despite the cold, and her bruises, and her tears, Barbara +smiled. In the forest she could behold the prince coming on his +way; and he would not see her, for she would hide among the trees +and vines.</p> + +<p>"Whirr-r-r, whirr-r-r!" It was the mischievous, romping wind +once more; and it fluttered Barbara's tattered shawl, and set her +hair to streaming in every direction, and swept the snowflake +from her cheek and sent it spinning through the air.</p> + +<p>Barbara trudged toward the forest. When she came to the city +gate the watchman stopped her, and held his big lantern in her +face, and asked her who she was and where she was going.</p> + +<p>"I am Barbara, and I am going into the forest," said she, +boldly.</p> + +<p>"Into the forest?" cried the watchman, "and in this storm? No, +child; you will perish!"</p> + +<p>"But I am going to see the prince," said Barbara. "They will +not let me watch for him in the church, nor in any of their +pleasant homes, so I am going into the forest."</p> + +<p>The watchman smiled sadly. He was a kindly man; he thought of +his own little girl at home.</p> + +<p>"No, you must not go to the forest," said he, "for you would +perish with the cold."</p> + +<p>But Barbara would not stay. She avoided the watchman's grasp +and ran as fast as ever she could through the city gate.</p> + +<p>"Come back, come back!" cried the watchman; "you will perish +in the forest!"</p> + +<p>But Barbara would not heed his cry. The falling snow did not +stay her, nor did the cutting blast. She thought only of the +prince, and she ran straightway to the forest.</p> + +<p>II</p> + +<p>"What do you see up there, O pine-tree?" asked a little vine +in the forest.</p> + +<p>"You lift your head among the clouds tonight, and you tremble +strangely as if you saw wondrous sights."</p> + +<p>"I see only the distant hill-tops and the dark clouds," +answered the pine-tree. "And the wind sings of the snow-king +to-night; to all my questionings he says, 'Snow, snow, snow,' +till I am weary with his refrain."</p> + +<p>"But the prince will surely come to-morrow?" inquired the tiny +snowdrop that nestled close to the vine.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said the vine. "I heard the country folks talking +about it as they went through the forest to-day, and they said +that the prince would surely come on the morrow."</p> + +<p>"What are you little folks down there talking about?" asked +the pine-tree.</p> + +<p>"We are talking about the prince," said the vine.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he is to come on the morrow," said the pine-tree, "but +not until the day dawns, and it is still all dark in the +east."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the fir-tree, "the east is black, and only the +wind and the snow issue from it."</p> + +<p>"Keep your head out of my way!" cried the pine-tree to the +fir; "with your constant bobbing around I can hardly see at +all."</p> + +<p>"Take <i>that</i> for your bad manners," retorted the fir, +slapping the pine-tree savagely with one of her longest +branches.</p> + +<p>The pine-tree would put up with no such treatment, so he +hurled his largest cone at the fir; and for a moment or two it +looked as if there were going to be a serious commotion in the +forest.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" cried the vine in a startled tone; "there is some one +coming through the forest."</p> + +<p>The pine-tree and the fir stopped quarrelling, and the +snowdrop nestled closer to the vine, while the vine hugged the +pine-tree very tightly. All were greatly alarmed.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" said the pine-tree, in a tone of assumed bravery. +"No one would venture into the forest at such an hour."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! and why not?" cried a child's voice. "Will you not +let me watch with you for the coming of the prince?"</p> + +<p>"Will you not chop me down?" inquired the pine-tree, +gruffly.</p> + +<p>"Will you not tear me from my tree?" asked the vine.</p> + +<p>"Will you not pluck my blossoms?" plaintively piped the +snowdrop.</p> + +<p>"No, of course not," said Barbara; "I have come only to watch +with you for the prince."</p> + +<p>Then Barbara told them who she was, and how cruelly she had +been treated in the city, and how she longed to see the prince, +who was to come on the morrow. And as she talked, the forest and +all therein felt a great compassion for her.</p> + +<p>"Lie at my feet," said the pine-tree, "and I will protect +you."</p> + +<p>"Nestle close to me, and I will chafe your temples and body +and limbs till they are warm," said the vine.</p> + +<p>"Let me rest upon your cheek, and I will sing you my little +songs," said the snowdrop.</p> + +<p>And Barbara felt very grateful for all these homely +kindnesses. She rested in the velvety snow at the foot of the +pine-tree, and the vine chafed her body and limbs, and the little +flower sang sweet songs to her.</p> + +<p>"Whirr-r-r, whirr-r-r!" There was that noisy wind again, but +this time it was gentler than it had been in the city.</p> + +<p>"Here you are, my little Barbara," said the wind, in kindly +tones. "I have brought you the little snowflake. I am glad you +came away from the city, for the people are proud and haughty +there; oh, but I will have my fun with them!"</p> + +<p>Then, having dropped the little snowflake on Barbara's cheek, +the wind whisked off to the city again. And we can imagine that +it played rare pranks with the proud, haughty folk on its return; +for the wind, as you know, is no respecter of persons.</p> + +<p>"Dear Barbara," said the snowflake, "I will watch with thee +for the coming of the prince."</p> + +<p>And Barbara was glad, for she loved the little snowflake, that +was so pure and innocent and gentle.</p> + +<p>"Tell us, O pine-tree," cried the vine, "what do you see in +the east? Has the prince yet entered the forest?"</p> + +<p>"The east is full of black clouds," said the pine-tree, "and +the winds that hurry to the hill-tops sing of the snow."</p> + +<p>"But the city is full of brightness," said the fir. "I can see +the lights in the cathedral, and I can hear wondrous music about +the prince and his coming."</p> + +<p>"Yes, they are singing of the prince in the cathedral," said +Barbara, sadly.</p> + +<p>"But we shall see him first," whispered the vine, +reassuringly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, the prince will come through the forest," said the +little snowdrop, gleefully.</p> + +<p>"Fear not, dear Barbara, we shall behold the prince in all his +glory," cried the snowflake.</p> + +<p>Then all at once there was a strange hubbub in the forest; for +it was midnight, and the spirits came from their hiding-places to +prowl about and to disport themselves. Barbara beheld them all in +great wonder and trepidation, for she had never before seen the +spirits of the forest, although she had often heard of them. It +was a marvellous sight.</p> + +<p>"Fear nothing," whispered the vine to Barbara,—"fear nothing, +for they dare not touch you."</p> + +<p>The antics of the wood-spirits continued but an hour; for then +a cock crowed, and immediately thereat, with a wondrous +scurrying, the elves and the gnomes and the other grotesque +spirits sought their abiding-places in the caves and in the +hollow trunks and under the loose bark of the trees. And then it +was very quiet once more in the forest.</p> + +<p>"It is very cold," said Barbara. "My hands and feet are like +ice."</p> + +<p>Then the pine-tree and the fir shook down the snow from their +broad boughs, and the snow fell upon Barbara and covered her like +a white mantle.</p> + +<p>"You will be warm now," said the vine, kissing Barbara's +forehead. And Barbara smiled.</p> + +<p>Then the snowdrop sang a lullaby about the moss that loved the +violet. And Barbara said, "I am going to sleep; will you wake me +when the prince comes through the forest?"</p> + +<p>And they said they would. So Barbara fell asleep.</p> + +<p>III</p> + +<p>"The bells in the city are ringing merrily," said the fir, +"and the music in the cathedral is louder and more beautiful than +before. Can it be that the prince has already come into the +city?"</p> + +<p>"No," cried the pine-tree, "look to the east and see the +Christmas day a-dawning! The prince is coming, and his pathway is +through the forest!"</p> + +<p>The storm had ceased. Snow lay upon all the earth. The hills, +the forest, the city, and the meadows were white with the robe +the storm-king had thrown over them. Content with his wondrous +work, the storm-king himself had fled to his far Northern home +before the dawn of the Christmas day. Everything was bright and +sparkling and beautiful. And most beautiful was the great hymn of +praise the forest sang that Christmas morning,—the pine-trees +and the firs and the vines and the snow-flowers that sang of the +prince and of his promised coming.</p> + +<p>"Wake up, little one," cried the vine, "for the prince is +coming!"</p> + +<p>But Barbara slept; she did not hear the vine's soft calling, +nor the lofty music of the forest.</p> + +<p>A little snow-bird flew down from the fir-tree's bough and +perched upon the vine, and carolled in Barbara's ear of the +Christmas morning and of the coming of the prince. But Barbara +slept; she did not hear the carol of the bird.</p> + +<p>"Alas!" sighed the vine, "Barbara will not awaken, and the +prince is coming."</p> + +<p>Then the vine and the snowdrop wept, and the pine-tree and the +fir were very sad.</p> + +<p>The prince came through the forest clad in royal raiment and +wearing a golden crown. Angels came with him, and the forest sang +a great hymn unto the prince, such a hymn as had never before +been heard on earth. The prince came to the sleeping child and +smiled upon her and called her by name.</p> + +<p>"Barbara, my little one," said the prince, "awaken, and come +with me."</p> + +<p>Then Barbara opened her eyes and beheld the prince. And it +seemed as if a new life had come to her, for there was warmth in +her body, and a flush upon her cheeks and a light in her eyes +that were divine. And she was clothed no longer in rags, but in +white flowing raiment; and upon the soft brown hair there was a +crown like those which angels wear. And as Barbara arose and went +to the prince, the little snowflake fell from her cheek upon her +bosom, and forthwith became a pearl more precious than all other +jewels upon earth.</p> + +<p>And the prince took Barbara in his arms and blessed her, and +turning round about, returned with the little child unto his +home, while the forest and the sky and the angels sang a wondrous +song.</p> + +<p>The city waited for the prince, but he did not come. None knew +of the glory of the forest that Christmas morning, nor of the new +life that came to little Barbara.</p> + +<p><i>Come thou, dear Prince, oh, come to us this holy Christmas +time! Come to the busy marts of earth, the quiet homes, the noisy +streets, the humble lanes; come to us all, and with thy love +touch every human heart, that we may know that love, and in its +blessed peace bear charity to all mankind!</i></p> + +<p>1886.</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><b>The Mouse and the Moonbeam</b></p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p>THE MOUSE AND THE MOONBEAM</p> + +<p>Whilst you were sleeping, little Dear-my-Soul, strange things +happened; but that I saw and heard them, I should never have +believed them. The clock stood, of course, in the corner, a +moonbeam floated idly on the floor, and a little mauve mouse came +from the hole in the chimney corner and frisked and scampered in +the light of the moonbeam upon the floor. The little mauve mouse +was particularly merry; sometimes she danced upon two legs and +sometimes upon four legs, but always very daintily and always +very merrily.</p> + +<p>"Ah, me!" sighed the old clock, "how different mice are +nowadays from the mice we used to have in the good old times! Now +there was your grandma, Mistress Velvetpaw, and there was your +grandpa, Master Sniffwhisker,—how grave and dignified they were! +Many a night have I seen them dancing upon the carpet below me, +but always the stately minuet and never that crazy frisking which +you are executing now, to my surprise—yes, and to my horror, +too."</p> + +<p>"But why shouldn't I be merry?" asked the little mauve mouse. +"To-morrow is Christmas, and this is Christmas eve."</p> + +<p>"So it is," said the old clock. "I had really forgotten all +about it. But, tell me, what is Christmas to you, little Miss +Mauve Mouse?"</p> + +<p>"A great deal to me!" cried the little mauve mouse. "I have +been very good a very long time: I have not used any bad words, +nor have I gnawed any holes, nor have I stolen any canary seed, +nor have I worried my mother by running behind the flour-barrel +where that horrid trap is set. In fact, I have been so good that +I'm very sure Santa Claus will bring me something very +pretty."</p> + +<p>This seemed to amuse the old clock mightily; in fact, the old +clock fell to laughing so heartily that in an unguarded moment +she struck twelve instead of ten, which was exceedingly careless +and therefore to be reprehended.</p> + +<p>"Why, you silly little mauve mouse," said the old clock, "you +don't believe in Santa Claus, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I do," answered the little mauve mouse. "Believe in +Santa Claus? Why shouldn't I? Didn't Santa Claus bring me a +beautiful butter-cracker last Christmas, and a lovely gingersnap, +and a delicious rind of cheese, and—and—lots of things? I +should be very ungrateful if I did <i>not</i> believe in Santa +Claus, and I certainly shall not disbelieve in him at the very +moment when I am expecting him to arrive with a bundle of goodies +for me.</p> + +<p>"I once had a little sister," continued the little mauve +mouse, "who did not believe in Santa Claus, and the very thought +of the fate that befell her makes my blood run cold and my +whiskers stand on end. She died before I was born, but my mother +has told me all about her. Perhaps you never saw her; her name +was Squeaknibble, and she was in stature one of those long, low, +rangy mice that are seldom found in well-stocked pantries. Mother +says that Squeaknibble took after our ancestors who came from New +England, where the malignant ingenuity of the people and the +ferocity of the cats rendered life precarious indeed. +Squeaknibble seemed to inherit many ancestral traits, the most +conspicuous of which was a disposition to sneer at some of the +most respected dogmas in mousedom. From her very infancy she +doubted, for example, the widely accepted theory that the moon +was composed of green cheese; and this heresy was the first +intimation her parents had of the sceptical turn of her mind. Of +course, her parents were vastly annoyed, for their maturer +natures saw that this youthful scepticism portended serious, if +not fatal, consequences. Yet all in vain did the sagacious couple +reason and plead with their headstrong and heretical child.</p> + +<p>"For a long time Squeaknibble would not believe that there was +any such archfiend as a cat; but she came to be convinced to the +contrary one memorable night, on which occasion she lost two +inches of her beautiful tail, and received so terrible a fright +that for fully an hour afterward her little heart beat so +violently as to lift her off her feet and bump her head against +the top of our domestic hole. The cat that deprived my sister of +so large a percentage of her vertebral colophon was the same +brindled ogress that nowadays steals ever and anon into this +room, crouches treacherously behind the sofa, and feigns to be +asleep, hoping, forsooth, that some of us, heedless of her hated +presence, will venture within reach of her diabolical claws. So +enraged was this ferocious monster at the escape of my sister +that she ground her fangs viciously together, and vowed to take +no pleasure in life until she held in her devouring jaws the +innocent little mouse which belonged to the mangled bit of tail +she even then clutched in her remorseless claws."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the old clock, "now that you recall the incident, +I recollect it well. I was here then, in this very corner, and I +remember that I laughed at the cat and chided her for her +awkwardness. My reproaches irritated her; she told me that a +clock's duty was to run itself down, <i>not</i> to be +depreciating the merits of others! Yes, I recall the time; that +cat's tongue is fully as sharp as her claws."</p> + +<p>"Be that as it may," said the little mauve mouse, "it is a +matter of history, and therefore beyond dispute, that from that +very moment the cat pined for Squeaknibble's life; it seemed as +if that one little two-inch taste of Squeaknibble's tail had +filled the cat with a consuming passion, or appetite, for the +rest of Squeaknibble. So the cat waited and watched and hunted +and schemed and devised and did everything possible for a cat—a +cruel cat—to do in order to gain her murderous ends. One +night—one fatal Christmas eve—our mother had undressed the +children for bed, and was urging upon them to go to sleep earlier +than usual, since she fully expected that Santa Claus would bring +each of them something very palatable and nice before morning. +Thereupon the little dears whisked their cunning tails, pricked +up their beautiful ears, and began telling one another what they +hoped Santa Claus would bring. One asked for a slice of +Roquefort, another for Neufchâtel, another for Sap Sago, +and a fourth for Edam; one expressed a preference for de Brie, +while another hoped to get Parmesan; one clamored for imperial +blue Stilton, and another craved the fragrant boon of Caprera. +There were fourteen little ones then, and consequently there were +diverse opinions as to the kind of gift which Santa Claus should +best bring; still, there was, as you can readily understand, an +enthusiastic unanimity upon this point, namely, that the gift +should be cheese of some brand or other.</p> + +<p>"'My dears,' said our mother, 'what matters it whether the +boon which Santa Claus brings be royal English cheddar or fromage +de Bricquebec, Vermont sage, or Herkimer County skim-milk? We +should be content with whatsoever Santa Glaus bestows, so long as +it be cheese, disjoined from all traps whatsoever, unmixed with +Paris green, and free from glass, strychnine, and other harmful +ingredients. As for myself, I shall be satisfied with a cut of +nice, fresh Western reserve; for truly I recognize in no other +viand or edible half the fragrance or half the gustfulness to be +met with in one of these pale but aromatic domestic products. So +run away to your dreams now, that Santa Claus may find you +sleeping.'</p> + +<p>"The children obeyed,—all but Squeaknibble. 'Let the others +think what they please,' said she, 'but <i>I</i> don't believe in +Santa Claus. I'm not going to bed, either. I'm going to creep out +of this dark hole and have a quiet romp, all by myself, in the +moonlight.' Oh, what a vain, foolish, wicked little mouse was +Squeaknibble! But I will not reproach the dead; her punishment +came all too swiftly. Now listen: who do you suppose overheard +her talking so disrespectfully of Santa Claus?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Santa Claus himself," said the old clock.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," answered the little mauve mouse. "It was that +wicked, murderous cat! Just as Satan lurks and lies in wait for +bad children, so does the cruel cat lurk and lie in wait for +naughty little mice. And you can depend upon it, that when that +awful cat heard Squeaknibble speak so disrespectfully of Santa +Claus, her wicked eyes glowed with joy, her sharp teeth watered, +and her bristling fur emitted electric sparks as big as marrowfat +peas. Then what did that bloodthirsty monster do but scuttle as +fast as she could into Dear-my-Soul's room, leap up into +Dear-my-Soul's crib, and walk off with the pretty little white +muff which Dear-my-Soul used to wear when she went for a visit to +the little girl in the next block! What upon earth did the horrid +old cat want with Dear-my-Soul's pretty little white muff? Ah, +the duplicity, the diabolical ingenuity of that cat! Listen.</p> + +<p>"In the first place," resumed the little mauve mouse, after a +pause that testified eloquently to the depth of her emotion,—"in +the first place, that wretched cat dressed herself up in that +pretty little white muff, by which you are to understand that she +crawled through the muff just so far as to leave her four cruel +legs at liberty."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I understand," said the old clock.</p> + +<p>"Then she put on the boy doll's fur cap," said the little +mauve mouse, "and when she was arrayed in the boy doll's fur cap +and Dear-my-Soul's pretty little white muff, of course she didn't +look like a cruel cat at all. But whom did she look like?"</p> + +<p>"Like the boy doll," suggested the old clock.</p> + +<p>"No, no!" cried the little mauve mouse.</p> + +<p>"Like Dear-my-Soul?" asked the old clock.</p> + +<p>"How stupid you are!" exclaimed the little mauve mouse. "Why, +she looked like Santa Claus, of course!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; I see," said the old clock. "Now I begin to be +interested; go on."</p> + +<p>"Alas!" sighed the little mauve mouse, "not much remains to be +told; but there is more of my story left than there was of +Squeaknibble when that horrid cat crawled out of that miserable +disguise. You are to understand that, contrary to her sagacious +mother's injunction, and in notorious derision of the mooted +coming of Santa Claus, Squeaknibble issued from the friendly hole +in the chimney corner, and gambolled about over this very carpet, +and, I dare say, in this very moonlight."</p> + +<p>"I do not know," said the moonbeam, faintly. "I am so very +old, and I have seen so many things—I do not know."</p> + +<p>"Right merrily was Squeaknibble gambolling," continued the +little mauve mouse, "and she had just turned a double back +somersault without the use of what remained of her tail, when, +all of a sudden, she beheld, looming up like a monster ghost, a +figure all in white fur! Oh, how frightened she was, and how her +little heart did beat! 'Purr, purr-r-r,' said the ghost in white +fur. 'Oh, please don't hurt me!' pleaded Squeaknibble. 'No; I'll +not hurt you,' said the ghost in white fur; 'I'm Santa Claus, and +I've brought you a beautiful piece of savory old cheese, you dear +little mousie, you.' Poor Squeaknibble was deceived; a sceptic +all her life, she was at last befooled by the most palpable and +most fatal of frauds. 'How good of you!' said Squeaknibble. 'I +didn't believe there was a Santa Claus, and—' but before she +could say more she was seized by two sharp, cruel claws that +conveyed her crushed body to the murderous mouth of mousedom's +most malignant foe. I can dwell no longer upon this harrowing +scene. Suffice it to say that ere the morrow's sun rose like a +big yellow Herkimer County cheese upon the spot where that +tragedy had been enacted, poor Squeaknibble passed to that bourn +whence two inches of her beautiful tail had preceded her by the +space of three weeks to a day. As for Santa Claus, when he came +that Christmas eve, bringing morceaux de Brie and of Stilton for +the other little mice, he heard with sorrow of Squeaknibble's +fate; and ere he departed he said that in all his experience he +had never known of a mouse or of a child that had prospered after +once saying that he didn't believe in Santa Claus."</p> + +<p>"Well, that is a remarkable story," said the old clock. "But +if you believe in Santa Glaus, why aren't you in bed?"</p> + +<p>"That's where I shall be presently," answered the little mauve +mouse, "but I must have my scamper, you know. It is very +pleasant, I assure you, to frolic in the light of the moon; only +I cannot understand why you are always so cold and so solemn and +so still, you pale, pretty little moonbeam."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I do not know that I am so," said the moonbeam. "But +I am very old, and I have travelled many, many leagues, and I +have seen wondrous things. Sometimes I toss upon the ocean, +sometimes I fall upon a slumbering flower, sometimes I rest upon +a dead child's face. I see the fairies at their play, and I hear +mothers singing lullabies. Last night I swept across the frozen +bosom of a river. A woman's face looked up at me; it was the +picture of eternal rest. 'She is sleeping,' said the frozen +river. 'I rock her to and fro, and sing to her. Pass gently by, O +moonbeam; pass gently by, lest you awaken her.'"</p> + +<p>"How strangely you talk," said the old clock. "Now, I'll +warrant me that, if you wanted to, you could tell many a pretty +and wonderful story. You must know many a Christmas tale; pray +tell us one to wear away this night of Christmas watching."</p> + +<p>"I know but one," said the moonbeam. "I have told it over and +over again, in every land and in every home; yet I do not weary +of it. It is very simple. Should you like to hear it?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed we should," said the old clock; "but before you begin, +let me strike twelve; for I shouldn't want to interrupt you."</p> + +<p>When the old clock had performed this duty with somewhat more +than usual alacrity, the moonbeam began its story:—</p> + +<p>"Upon a time—so long ago that I can't tell how long ago it +was—I fell upon a hillside. It was in a far distant country; +this I know, because, although it was the Christmas time, it was +not in that country as it is wont to be in countries to the +north. Hither the snow-king never came; flowers bloomed all the +year, and at all times the lambs found pleasant pasturage on the +hillsides. The night wind was balmy, and there was a fragrance of +cedar in its breath. There were violets on the hillside, and I +fell amongst them and lay there. I kissed them, and they +awakened. 'Ah, is it you, little moonbeam?' they said, and they +nestled in the grass which the lambs had left uncropped.</p> + +<p>"A shepherd lay upon a broad stone on the hillside; above him +spread an olive-tree, old, ragged, and gloomy; but now it swayed +its rusty branches majestically in the shifting air of night. The +shepherd's name was Benoni. Wearied with long watching, he had +fallen asleep; his crook had slipped from his hand. Upon the +hillside, too, slept the shepherd's flock. I had counted them +again and again; I had stolen across their gentle faces and +brought them pleasant dreams of green pastures and of cool +water-brooks. I had kissed old Benoni, too, as he lay slumbering +there; and in his dreams he seemed to see Israel's King come upon +earth, and in his dreams he murmured the promised Messiah's +name.</p> + +<p>"'Ah, is it you, little moonbeam?' quoth the violets. 'You +have come in good time. Nestle here with us, and see wonderful +things come to pass.'</p> + +<p>"'What are these wonderful things of which you speak?' I +asked.</p> + +<p>"'We heard the old olive-tree telling of them to-night,' said +the violets. '"Do not go to sleep, little violets," said the old +olive-tree, "for this is Christmas night, and the Master shall +walk upon the hillside in the glory of the midnight hour." So we +waited and watched; one by one the lambs fell asleep; one by one +the stars peeped out; the shepherd nodded and crooned and crooned +and nodded, and at last he, too, went fast asleep, and his crook +slipped from his keeping. Then we called to the old olive-tree +yonder, asking how soon the midnight hour would come; but all the +old olive-tree answered was "Presently, presently," and finally +we, too, fell asleep, wearied by our long watching, and lulled by +the rocking and swaying of the old olive-tree in the breezes of +the night.'</p> + +<p>"'But who is this Master?' I asked.</p> + +<p>"'A child, a little child,' they answered. 'He is called the +little Master by the others. He comes here often, and plays among +the flowers of the hillside. Sometimes the lambs, gambolling too +carelessly, have crushed and bruised us so that we lie bleeding +and are like to die; but the little Master heals our wounds and +refreshes us once again.'</p> + +<p>"I marvelled much to hear these things. 'The midnight hour is +at hand,' said I, 'and I will abide with you to see this little +Master of whom you speak.' So we nestled among the verdure of the +hillside, and sang songs one to another.</p> + +<p>"'Come away!' called the night wind; 'I know a beauteous sea +not far hence, upon whose bosom you shall float, float, float +away out into the mists and clouds, if you will come with +me.'</p> + +<p>"But I hid under the violets and amid the tall grass, that the +night wind might not woo me with its pleading. 'Ho, there, old +olive-tree!' cried the violets; 'do you see the little Master +coming? Is not the midnight hour at hand?'</p> + +<p>"'I can see the town yonder,' said the old olive-tree. 'A star +beams bright over Bethlehem, the iron gates swing open, and the +little Master comes.'</p> + +<p>"Two children came to the hillside. The one, older than his +comrade, was Dimas, the son of Benoni. He was rugged and sinewy, +and over his brown shoulders was flung a goat-skin; a leathern +cap did not confine his long, dark curly hair. The other child +was he whom they called the little Master; about his slender form +clung raiment white as snow, and around his face of heavenly +innocence fell curls of golden yellow. So beautiful a child I had +not seen before, nor have I ever since seen such as he. And as +they came together to the hillside, there seemed to glow about +the little Master's head a soft white light, as if the moon had +sent its tenderest, fairest beams to kiss those golden curls.</p> + +<p>"'What sound was that?' cried Dimas, for he was exceeding +fearful.</p> + +<p>"'Have no fear, Dimas,' said the little Master. 'Give me thy +hand, and I will lead thee.'</p> + +<p>"Presently they came to the rock whereon Benoni, the shepherd, +lay; and they stood under the old olive-tree, and the old +olive-tree swayed no longer in the night wind, but bent its +branches reverently in the presence of the little Master. It +seemed as if the wind, too, stayed in its shifting course just +then; for suddenly there was a solemn hush, and you could hear no +noise, except that in his dreams Benoni spoke the Messiah's +name.</p> + +<p>"'Thy father sleeps,' said the little Master, 'and it is well +that it is so; for that I love thee, Dimas, and that thou shalt +walk with me in my Father's kingdom, I would show thee the +glories of my birthright.'</p> + +<p>"Then all at once sweet music filled the air, and light, +greater than the light of day, illumined the sky and fell upon +all that hillside. The heavens opened, and angels, singing joyous +songs, walked to the earth. More wondrous still, the stars, +falling from their places in the sky, clustered upon the old +olive-tree, and swung hither and thither like colored lanterns. +The flowers of the hillside all awakened, and they, too, danced +and sang. The angels, coming hither, hung gold and silver and +jewels and precious stones upon the old olive, where swung the +stars; so that the glory of that sight, though I might live +forever, I shall never see again. When Dimas heard and saw these +things he fell upon his knees, and catching the hem of the little +Master's garment, he kissed it.</p> + +<p>"'Greater joy than this shall be thine, Dimas,' said the +little Master; 'but first must all things be fulfilled.'</p> + +<p>"All through that Christmas night did the angels come and go +with their sweet anthems; all through that Christmas night did +the stars dance and sing; and when it came my time to steal away, +the hillside was still beautiful with the glory and the music of +heaven."</p> + +<p>"Well, is that all?" asked the old clock.</p> + +<p>"No," said the moonbeam; "but I am nearly done. The years went +on. Sometimes I tossed upon the ocean's bosom, sometimes I +scampered o'er a battle-field, sometimes I lay upon a dead +child's face. I heard the voices of Darkness and mothers' +lullabies and sick men's prayers,—and so the years went on.</p> + +<p>"I fell one night upon a hard and furrowed face. It was of +ghostly pallor. A thief was dying on the cross, and this was his +wretched face. About the cross stood men with staves and swords +and spears, but none paid heed unto the thief. Somewhat beyond +this cross another was lifted up, and upon it was stretched a +human body my light fell not upon. But I heard a voice that +somewhere I had heard before,—though where I did not know,—and +this voice blessed those that railed and jeered and shamefully +entreated. And suddenly the voice called 'Dimas, Dimas!' and the +thief upon whose hardened face I rested made answer.</p> + +<p>"Then I saw that it was Dimas; yet to this wicked criminal +there remained but little of the shepherd child whom I had seen +in all his innocence upon the hillside. Long years of sinful life +had seared their marks into his face; yet now, at the sound of +that familiar voice, somewhat of the old-time boyish look came +back, and in the yearning of the anguished eyes I seemed to see +the shepherd's son again.</p> + +<p>"'The Master!' cried Dimas, and he stretched forth his neck +that he might see him that spake.</p> + +<p>"'O Dimas, how art thou changed!' cried the Master, yet there +was in his voice no tone of rebuke save that which cometh of +love.</p> + +<p>"Then Dimas wept, and in that hour he forgot his pain. And the +Master's consoling voice and the Master's presence there wrought +in the dying criminal such a new spirit, that when at last his +head fell upon his bosom, and the men about the cross said that +he was dead, it seemed as if I shined not upon a felon's face, +but upon the face of the gentle shepherd lad, the son of +Benoni.</p> + +<p>"And shining on that dead and peaceful face, I bethought me of +the little Master's words that he had spoken under the old +olive-tree upon the hillside: 'Your eyes behold the promised +glory now, O Dimas,' I whispered, 'for with the Master you walk +in Paradise.'"</p> + +<p>Ah, little Dear-my-Soul, you know—you know whereof the +moonbeam spake. The shepherd's bones are dust, the flocks are +scattered, the old olive-tree is gone, the flowers of the +hillside are withered, and none knoweth where the grave of Dimas +is made. But last night, again, there shined a star over +Bethlehem, and the angels descended from the sky to earth, and +the stars sang together in glory. And the bells,—hear them, +little Dear-my-Soul, how sweetly they are ringing,—the bells +bear us the good tidings of great joy this Christmas morning, +that our Christ is born, and that with him he bringeth peace on +earth and good-will toward men.</p> + +<p>1888.</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><b>The Divell's Christmass</b></p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p>THE DIVELL'S CHRYSTMASS.</p> + +<p>It befell that on a time ye Divell did walk to and fro upon ye +earth, having in his mind full evill cogitations how that he +might do despight; for of soche nature is ye Divell, and ever +hath been, that continually doth he go about among men, being so +dispositioned that it sufficeth him not that men sholde of their +own frowardness, and by cause of the guile born in them, turn +unto his wickedness, but rather that he sholde by his crewel +artifices and diabolical machinations tempt them at all times and +upon every hand to do his fiendly plaisaunce.</p> + +<p>But it so fortuned that this time wherein ye Divell so walked +upon ye earth was ye Chrystmass time; and wit ye well that how +evill soever ye harte of man ben at other seasons, it is tofilled +at ye Chrystmass time with charity and love, like as if it ben +sanctified by ye exceeding holiness of that feast. Leastwise, +this moche we know, that, whereas at other times envy and +worldliness do prevail, for a verity our natures are toched at ye +Chrystmass time as by ye hand of divinity, and conditioned for +merciful deeds unto our fellow kind. Right wroth was ye Divell, +therefore, when that he knew this ben ye Chrystmass time. And as +rage doth often confirm in ye human harte an evill purpose, so +was ye Divell now more diabolically minded to work his unclean +will, and full hejeously fell he to roar and lash his ribald legs +with his poyson taile. But ye Divell did presently conceive that +naught might he accomplish by this means, since that men, +affrighted by his roaring and astonied by ye fumes of brimstone +and ye sulphur flames issuing from his mouth, wolde flee +therefrom; whereas by subtile craft and by words of specious +guile it more frequently befalls that ye Divell seduceth men and +lureth them into his toils. So then ye Divell did in a little +season feign to be in a full plaisaunt mind and of sweet purpose; +and when that he had girt him about with an hermit's cloak, so +that none might see his cloven feet and his poyson taile, right +briskly did he fare him on his journey, and he did sing ye while +a plaisaunt tune, like he had ben full of joyous +contentation.</p> + +<p>Now it befell that presently in his journey he did meet with a +frere, Dan Dennyss, an holy man that fared him to a neighboring +town for deeds of charity and godliness. Unto him spake ye Divell +full courteysely, and required of him that he might bear him +company; to which ye frere gave answer in seemly wise, that, if +so be that he ben of friendly disposition, he wolde make him joy +of his companionship and conversation. Then, whiles that they +journeyed together, began ye Divell to discourse of theologies +and hidden mysteries, and of conjurations, and of negromancy and +of magick, and of Chaldee, and of astrology, and of chymistry, +and of other occult and forbidden sciences, wherein ye Divell and +all that ply his damnable arts are mightily learned and +practised. Now wit ye well that this frere, being an holy man and +a simple, and having an eye single to ye blessed works of his +calling, was presently mightily troubled in his mind by ye +artifices of ye Divell, and his harte began to waver and to be +filled with miserable doubtings; for knowing nothing of ye things +whereof ye Divell spake, he colde not make answer thereto, nor, +being of godly cogitation and practice, had he ye confutations +wherewith to meet ye abhominable argumentations of ye fiend.</p> + +<p>Yet (and now shall I tell you of a special Providence) it did +fortune, whiles yet ye Divell discoursed in this profane wise, +there was vouchsafed unto ye frere a certain power to resist ye +evill that environed him; for of a sodaine he did cast his +doubtings and his misgivings to ye winds, and did fall upon ye +Divell and did buffet him full sore, crying, "Thou art ye Divell! +Get thee gone!" And ye frere plucked ye cloake from ye Divell and +saw ye cloven feet and ye poyson taile, and straightway ye Divell +ran roaring away. But ye frere fared upon his journey, for that +he had had a successful issue from this grevious temptation, with +thanksgiving and prayse.</p> + +<p>Next came ye Divell into a town wherein were many people going +to and fro upon works of charity, and doing righteous practices; +and sorely did it repent ye Divell when that he saw ye people +bent upon ye giving of alms and ye doing of charitable deeds. +Therefore with mighty diligence did ye Divell apply himself to +poyson ye minds of ye people, shewing unto them in artful wise +how that by idleness or by righteous dispensation had ye poore +become poore, and that, soche being ye will of God, it was an +evill and rebellious thing against God to seeke to minister +consolation unto these poore peoples. Soche like specious +argumentations did ye Divell use to gain his diabolical ends; but +by means of a grace whereof none then knew ye source, these men +and these women unto whom ye Divell spake his hejeous heresies +presently discovered force to withstand these fiendly +temptations, and to continue in their Chrystianly practices, to +ye glory of their faith and to ye benefite of ye needy, but to ye +exceeding discomfiture of ye Divell; for ye which discomfiture I +do give hearty thanks, and so also shall all of you, if so be +that your hartes within you be of rightful disposition.</p> + +<p>All that day long fared ye Divell to and fro among ye people +of ye town, but none colde he bring into his hellish way of +cogitation. Nor do I count this to be a marvellous thing; for, as +I myself have herein shewn and as eche of us doth truly know, how +can there be a place for ye Divell upon earth during this +Chrystmass time when in ye very air that we breathe abideth a +certain love and concord sent of heaven for the controul and +edification of mankind, filling human hartes with peace and +inclining human hands to ye delectable and blessed employments of +charity? Nay, but you shall know that all this very season +whereof I speak ye holy Chrystchilde himself did follow ye Divell +upon earth, forefending the crewel evills which ye Divell fain +wolde do and girding with confidence and love ye else frail +natures of men. Soothly it is known of common report among you +that when ye Chrystmass season comes upon ye earth there cometh +with it also the spirit of our Chryst himself, that in ye +similitude of a little childe descendeth from heaven and walketh +among men. And if so be that by any chance ye Divell is minded to +issue from his foul pit at soche a time, wit ye well that +wheresoever ye fiend fareth to do his diabolical plaisaunce there +also close at hand followeth ye gentle Chrystchilde; so that ye +Divell, try how hard soever he may, hath no power at soche a time +over the hartes of men.</p> + +<p>Nay, but you shall know furthermore that of soche sweete +quality and of so great efficacy is this heavenly spirit of +charity at ye Chrystmass season, that oftentimes is ye Divell +himself made to do a kindly deed. So at this time of ye which I +you tell, ye Divell, walking upon ye earth with evill purpose, +became finally overcome by ye gracious desire to give an alms; +but nony alms had ye Divell to give, sith it is wisely ordained +that ye Divell's offices shall be confined to his domain. Right +grievously tormented therefore was ye Divell, in that he had +nought of alms to bestow; but when presently he did meet with a +beggar childe that besought him charity, ye Divell whipped out a +knife and cut off his own taile, which taile ye Divell gave to ye +beggar childe, for he had not else to give for a lyttle trinket +toy to make merry with. Now wit ye well that this poyson +instrument brought no evill to ye beggar childe, for by a sodaine +miracle it ben changed into a flowre of gold, ye which gave great +joy unto ye beggar childe and unto all them that saw this miracle +how that it had ben wrought, but not by ye Divell. Then returned +ye Divell unto his pit of fire; and since that day, whereupon +befell this thing of which I speak, ye Divell hath had nony taile +at all, as you that hath seene ye same shall truly testify.</p> + +<p>But all that day long walked ye Chrystchilde upon ye earth, +unseen to ye people but toching their hartes with his swete love +and turning their hands to charity; and all felt that ye +Chrystchilde was with them. So it was plaisaunt to do ye +Chrystchilde's will, to succor ye needy, to comfort ye afflicted, +and to lift up ye oppressed. Most plaisauntest of all was it to +make merry with ye lyttle children, sithence of soche is ye +kingdom whence ye Chrystchilde cometh.</p> + +<p>Behold, ye season is again at hand; once more ye snows of +winter lie upon all ye earth, and all Chrystantie is arrayed to +the holy feast.</p> + +<p>Presently shall ye star burn with exceeding brightness in ye +east, ye sky shall be full of swete music, ye angels shall +descend to earth with singing, and ye bells—ye joyous Chrystmass +bells—shall tell us of ye babe that was born in Bethlehem.</p> + +<p>Come to us now, O gentle Chrystchilde, and walke among us +peoples of ye earth; enwheel us round about with thy protecting +care; forefend all envious thoughts and evil deeds; toche thou +our hearts with the glory of thy love, and quicken us to +practices of peace, good-will, and charity meet for thy approval +and acceptation.</p> + +<p>1888.</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><b>The Mountain and the Sea</b></p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p>THE MOUNTAIN AND THE SEA</p> + +<p>Once upon a time the air, the mountain, and the sea lived +undisturbed upon all the earth. The mountain alone was immovable; +he stood always here upon his rocky foundation, and the sea +rippled and foamed at his feet, while the air danced freely over +his head and about his grim face. It came to pass that both the +sea and the air loved the mountain, but the mountain loved the +sea.</p> + +<p>"Dance on forever, O air," said the mountain; "dance on and +sing your merry songs. But I love the gentle sea, who in sweet +humility crouches at my feet or playfully dashes her white spray +against my brown bosom."</p> + +<p>Now the sea was full of joy when she heard these words, and +her thousand voices sang softly with delight. But the air was +filled with rage and jealousy, and she swore a terrible +revenge.</p> + +<p>"The mountain shall not wed the sea," muttered the envious +air. "Enjoy your triumph while you may, O slumberous sister; I +will steal you from your haughty lover!"</p> + +<p>And it came to pass that ever after that the air each day +caught up huge parts of the sea and sent them floating forever +through the air in the shape of clouds. So each day the sea +receded from the feet of the mountain, and her tuneful waves +played no more around his majestic base.</p> + +<p>"Whither art thou going, my love?" cried the mountain in +dismay.</p> + +<p>"She is false to thee," laughed the air, mockingly. "She is +going to another love far away."</p> + +<p>But the mountain would not believe it. He towered his head +aloft and cried more beseechingly than before: "Oh, whither art +thou going, my beloved? I do not hear thy sweet voice, nor do thy +soft white arms compass me about."</p> + +<p>Then the sea cried out in an agony of helpless love. But the +mountain heard her not, for the air refused to bring the words +she said.</p> + +<p>"She is false!" whispered the air. "I alone am true to +thee."</p> + +<p>But the mountain believed her not. Day after day he reared his +massive head aloft and turned his honest face to the receding sea +and begged her to return; day after day the sea threw up her +snowy arms and uttered the wildest lamentations, but the mountain +heard her not; and day by day the sea receded farther and farther +from the mountain's base. Where she once had spread her fair +surface appeared fertile plains and verdant groves all peopled +with living things, whose voices the air brought to the +mountain's ears in the hope that they might distract the mountain +from his mourning.</p> + +<p>But the mountain would not be comforted; he lifted his sturdy +head aloft, and his sorrowing face was turned ever toward the +fleeting object of his love. Hills, valleys, forests, plains, and +other mountains separated them now, but over and beyond them all +he could see was her fair face lifted pleadingly toward him, +while her white arms tossed wildly to and fro. But he did not +know what words she said, for the envious air would not bear her +messages to him.</p> + +<p>Then many ages came and went, until now the sea was far +distant, so very distant that the mountain could not behold +her,—nay, had he been ten thousand times as lofty he could not +have seen her, she was so far away. But still, as of old, the +mountain stood with his majestic head high in the sky, and his +face turned whither he had seen her fading like a dream away.</p> + +<p>"Comeback, comeback, O my beloved!" he cried and cried.</p> + +<p>And the sea, a thousand miles or more away, still thought +forever of the mountain. Vainly she peered over the western +horizon for a glimpse of his proud head and honest face. The +horizon was dark. Her lover was far beyond, forests, plains, +hills, valleys, rivers, and other mountains intervened. Her +watching was as hopeless as her love.</p> + +<p>"She is false!" whispered the air to the mountain. "She is +false, and she has gone to another lover. I alone am true!"</p> + +<p>But the mountain believed her not. And one day clouds came +floating through the sky and hovered around the mountain's +crest.</p> + +<p>"Who art thou," cried the mountain,—"who art thou that thou +fill'st me with such a subtile consolation? Thy breath is like my +beloved's, and thy kisses are like her kisses."</p> + +<p>"We come from the sea," answered the clouds. "She loves thee, +and she has sent us to bid thee be courageous, for she will come +back to thee."</p> + +<p>Then the clouds covered the mountain and bathed him with the +glory of the sea's true love. The air raged furiously, but all in +vain. Ever after that the clouds came each day with love-messages +from the sea, and oftentimes the clouds bore back to the distant +sea the tender words the mountain spoke.</p> + +<p>And so the ages come and go, the mountain rearing his giant +head aloft, and his brown, honest face turned whither the sea +departed; the sea stretching forth her arms to the distant +mountain and repeating his dear name with her thousand +voices.</p> + +<p>Stand on the beach and look upon the sea's majestic calm and +hear her murmurings; or see her when, in the frenzy of her +hopeless love, she surges wildly and tosses her white arms and +shrieks,—then you shall know how the sea loves the distant +mountain.</p> + +<p>The mountain is old and sear; the storms have beaten upon his +breast, and great scars and seams and wrinkles are on his sturdy +head and honest face But he towers majestically aloft, and he +looks always toward the distant sea and waits for her promised +coming.</p> + +<p>And so the ages come and go, but love is eternal.</p> + +<p>1886.</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><b>The Robin and the Violet</b></p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p>THE ROBIN AND THE VIOLET</p> + +<p>Once upon a time a robin lived in the greenwood. Of all the +birds his breast was the brightest, his music was the sweetest, +and his life was the merriest. Every morning and evening he +perched himself among the berries of the linden-tree, and +carolled a song that made the whole forest joyous; and all day +long he fluttered among the flowers and shrubbery of the +wild-wood, and twittered gayly to the brooks, the ferns, and the +lichens.</p> + +<p>A violet grew among the mosses at the foot of the linden-tree +where lived the robin. She was so very tiny and so very modest +that few knew there was such a pretty little creature in the +world. Withal she was so beautiful and so gentle that those who +knew the violet loved her very dearly.</p> + +<p>The south wind came wooing the violet. He danced through the +shrubbery and ferns, and lingered on the velvet moss where the +little flower grew. But when he kissed her pretty face and +whispered to her, she hung her head and said, "No, no; it cannot +be."</p> + +<p>"Nay, little violet, do not be so cruel," pleaded the south +wind; "let me bear you as my bride away to my splendid home in +the south, where all is warmth and sunshine always."</p> + +<p>But the violet kept repeating, "No, it cannot be; no, it +cannot be," till at last the south wind stole away with a very +heavy heart.</p> + +<p>And the rose exclaimed, in an outburst of disgustful +indignation: "What a foolish violet! How silly of her to refuse +such a wooer as the south wind, who has a beautiful home and a +patrimony of eternal warmth and sunshine!"</p> + +<p>But the violet, as soon as the south wind had gone, looked up +at the robin perched in the linden-tree and singing his clear +song; and it seemed as if she blushed and as if she were thrilled +with a great emotion as she beheld him. But the robin did not see +the violet. His eyes were turned the other way, and he sang to +the clouds in the sky.</p> + +<p>The brook o'erleaped its banks one day, and straying toward +the linden-tree, it was amazed at the loveliness of the violet. +Never had it seen any flower half so beautiful.</p> + +<p>"Oh, come and be my bride," cried the brook. "I am young and +small now, but presently you shall see me grow to a mighty river +whose course no human power can direct, and whose force nothing +can resist. Cast thyself upon my bosom, sweet violet, and let us +float together to that great destiny which awaits me."</p> + +<p>But the violet shuddered and recoiled and said: "Nay, nay, +impetuous brook, I will not be your bride." So, with many murmurs +and complaints, the brook crept back to its jealous banks and +resumed its devious and prattling way to the sea.</p> + +<p>"Bless me!" cried the daisy, "only to think of that silly +violet's refusing the brook! Was there ever another such piece of +folly! Where else is there a flower that would not have been glad +to go upon such a wonderful career? Oh, how short-sighted some +folks are!"</p> + +<p>But the violet paid no heed to these words; she looked +steadfastly up into the foliage of the linden-tree where the +robin was carolling. The robin did not see the violet; he was +singing to the tops of the fir-trees over yonder.</p> + +<p>The days came and went. The robin sang and fluttered in the +greenwood, and the violet bided among the mosses at the foot of +the linden; and although the violet's face was turned always +upward to where the robin perched and sang, the robin never saw +the tender little flower.</p> + +<p>One day a huntsman came through the greenwood, and an arrow +from his cruel bow struck the robin and pierced his heart. The +robin was carolling in the linden, but his song was ended +suddenly, and the innocent bird fell dying from the tree. "Oh, it +is only a robin," said the huntsman, and with a careless laugh he +went on his way.</p> + +<p>The robin lay upon the mosses at the foot of the linden, close +beside the violet. But he neither saw nor heard anything, for his +life was nearly gone. The violet tried to bind his wound and stay +the flow of his heart's blood, but her tender services were vain. +The robin died without having seen her sweet face or heard her +gentle voice.</p> + +<p>Then the other birds of the greenwood came to mourn over their +dead friend. The moles and the mice dug a little grave and laid +the robin in it, after which the birds brought lichens and +leaves, and covered the dead body, and heaped earth over all, and +made a great lamentation. But when they went away, the violet +remained; and after the sun had set, and the greenwood all was +dark, the violet bent over the robin's grave and kissed it, and +sang to the dead robin. And the violet watched by the robin's +grave for weeks and months, her face pressed forward toward that +tiny mound, and her gentle voice always singing softly and +sweetly about the love she never had dared to tell.</p> + +<p>Often after that the south wind and the brook came wooing her, +but she never heard them, or, if she heard them, she did not +answer. The vine that lived near the chestnut yonder said the +violet was greatly changed; that from being a merry, happy thing, +she had grown sad and reticent; she used to hold up her head as +proudly as the others, but now she seemed broken and weary. The +shrubs and flowers talked it all over many and many a time, but +none of them could explain the violet's strange conduct.</p> + +<p>It was autumn now, and the greenwood was not what it had been. +The birds had flown elsewhere to be the guests of the storks +during the winter months, the rose had run away to be the bride +of the south wind, and the daisy had wedded the brook and was +taking a bridal tour to the seaside watering-places. But the +violet still lingered in the greenwood, and kept her vigil at the +grave of the robin. She was pale and drooping, but still she +watched and sang over the spot where her love lay buried. Each +day she grew weaker and paler. The oak begged her to come and +live among the warm lichens that protected him from the icy +breath of the storm-king, but the violet chose to watch and sing +over the robin's grave.</p> + +<p>One morning, after a night of exceeding darkness and frost, +the boisterous north wind came trampling through the +greenwood.</p> + +<p>"I have come for the violet," he cried; "she would not have my +fair brother, but she must go with <i>me</i>, whether it pleases +her or not!"</p> + +<p>But when he came to the foot of the linden-tree his anger was +changed to compassion. The violet was dead, and she lay upon the +robin's grave. Her gentle face rested close to the little mound, +as if, in her last moment, the faithful flower had stretched +forth her lips to kiss the dust that covered her beloved.</p> + +<p>1884.</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><b>The Oak-tree and the Ivy</b></p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p>THE OAK-TREE AND THE IVY</p> + +<p>In the greenwood stood a mighty oak. So majestic was he that +all who came that way paused to admire his strength and beauty, +and all the other trees of the greenwood acknowledged him to be +their monarch.</p> + +<p>Now it came to pass that the ivy loved the oak-tree, and +inclining her graceful tendrils where he stood, she crept about +his feet and twined herself around his sturdy and knotted trunk. +And the oak-tree pitied the ivy.</p> + +<p>"Oho!" he cried, laughing boisterously, but +good-naturedly,—"oho! so you love me, do you, little vine? Very +well, then; play about my feet, and I will keep the storms from +you and will tell you pretty stories about the clouds, the birds, +and the stars."</p> + +<p>The ivy marvelled greatly at the strange stories the oak-tree +told; they were stories the oak-tree heard from the wind that +loitered about his lofty head and whispered to the leaves of his +topmost branches. Sometimes the story was about the great ocean +in the East, sometimes of the broad prairies in the West, +sometimes of the ice-king who lived in the North, and sometimes +of the flower-queen who dwelt in the South. Then, too, the moon +told a story to the oak-tree every night,—or at least every +night that she came to the greenwood, which was very often, for +the greenwood is a very charming spot, as we all know. And the +oak-tree repeated to the ivy every story the moon told and every +song the stars sang.</p> + +<p>"Pray, what are the winds saying now?" or "What song is that I +hear?" the ivy would ask; and then the oak-tree would repeat the +story or the song, and the ivy would listen in great +wonderment.</p> + +<p>Whenever the storms came, the oak-tree cried to the little +ivy: "Cling close to me, and no harm shall befall you! See how +strong I am; the tempest does not so much as stir me—I mock its +fury!"</p> + +<p>Then, seeing how strong and brave he was, the ivy hugged him +closely; his brown, rugged breast protected her from every harm, +and she was secure.</p> + +<p>The years went by; how quickly they flew,—spring, summer, +winter, and then again spring, summer, winter,—ah, life is short +in the greenwood as elsewhere! And now the ivy was no longer a +weakly little vine to excite the pity of the passer-by. Her +thousand beautiful arms had twined hither and thither about the +oak-tree, covering his brown and knotted trunk, shooting forth a +bright, delicious foliage and stretching far up among his lower +branches. Then the oak-tree's pity grew into a love for the ivy, +and the ivy was filled with a great joy. And the oak-tree and the +ivy were wed one June night, and there was a wonderful +celebration in the greenwood; and there was most beautiful music, +in which the pine-trees, the crickets, the katydids, the frogs, +and the nightingales joined with pleasing harmony.</p> + +<p>The oak-tree was always good and gentle to the ivy. "There is +a storm coming over the hills," he would say. "The east wind +tells me so; the swallows fly low in the air, and the sky is +dark. Cling close to me, my beloved, and no harm shall befall +you."</p> + +<p>Then, confidently and with an always-growing love, the ivy +would cling more closely to the oak-tree, and no harm came to +her.</p> + +<p>"How good the oak-tree is to the ivy!" said the other trees of +the greenwood. The ivy heard them, and she loved the oak-tree +more and more. And, although the ivy was now the most umbrageous +and luxuriant vine in all the greenwood, the oak-tree regarded +her still as the tender little thing he had laughingly called to +his feet that spring day, many years before,—the same little ivy +he had told about the stars, the clouds, and the birds. And, just +as patiently as in those days he had told her of these things, he +now repeated other tales the winds whispered to his topmost +boughs,—tales of the ocean in the East, the prairies in the +West, the ice-king in the North, and the flower-queen in the +South. Nestling upon his brave breast and in his stout arms, the +ivy heard him tell these wondrous things, and she never wearied +with the listening.</p> + +<p>"How the oak-tree loves her!" said the ash. "The lazy vine has +naught to do but to twine herself about the arrogant oak-tree and +hear him tell his wondrous stories!"</p> + +<p>The ivy heard these envious words, and they made her very sad; +but she said nothing of them to the oak-tree, and that night the +oak-tree rocked her to sleep as he repeated the lullaby a zephyr +was singing to him.</p> + +<p>"There is a storm coming over the hills," said the oak-tree +one day. "The east wind tells me so; the swallows fly low in the +air, and the sky is dark. Clasp me round about with thy dear +arms, my beloved, and nestle close unto my bosom, and no harm +shall befall thee."</p> + +<p>"I have no fear," murmured the ivy; and she clasped her arms +most closely about him and nestled unto his bosom.</p> + +<p>The storm came over the hills and swept down upon the +greenwood with deafening thunder and vivid lightning. The +storm-king himself rode upon the blast; his horses breathed +flames, and his chariot trailed through the air like a serpent of +fire. The ash fell before the violence of the storm-king's fury, +and the cedars groaning fell, and the hemlocks and the pines; but +the oak-tree alone quailed not.</p> + +<p>"Oho!" cried the storm-king, angrily, "the oak-tree does not +bow to me, he does not tremble in my presence. Well, we shall +see."</p> + +<p>With that the storm-king hurled a mighty thunderbolt at the +oak-tree, and the brave, strong monarch of the greenwood was +riven. Then, with a shout of triumph, the storm-king rode +away.</p> + +<p>"Dear oak-tree, you are riven by the storm-king's +thunderbolt!" cried the ivy, in anguish.</p> + +<p>"Ay," said the oak-tree, feebly, "my end has come; see, I am +shattered and helpless."</p> + +<p>"But <i>I</i> am unhurt," remonstrated the ivy, "and I will +bind up your wounds and nurse you back to health and vigor."</p> + +<p>And so it was that, although the oak-tree was ever afterward a +riven and broken thing, the ivy concealed the scars upon his +shattered form and covered his wounds all over with her soft +foliage.</p> + +<p>"I had hoped, dear one," she said, "to grow up to thy height, +to live with thee among the clouds, and to hear the solemn voices +thou didst hear. Thou wouldst have loved me better then?"</p> + +<p>But the old oak-tree said: "Nay, nay, my beloved; I love thee +better as thou art, for with thy beauty and thy love thou +comfortest mine age."</p> + +<p>Then would the ivy tell quaint stories to the old and broken +oak-tree,—stories she had learned from the crickets, the bees, +the butterflies, and the mice when she was an humble little vine +and played at the foot of the majestic oak-tree towering in the +green-wood with no thought of the tiny shoot that crept toward +him with her love. And these simple tales pleased the old and +riven oak-tree; they were not as heroic as the tales the winds, +the clouds, and the stars told, but they were far sweeter, for +they were tales of contentment, of humility, of love.</p> + +<p>So the old age of the oak-tree was grander than his youth.</p> + +<p>And all who went through the greenwood paused to behold and +admire the beauty of the oak-tree then; for about his seared and +broken trunk the gentle vine had so entwined her graceful +tendrils and spread her fair foliage, that one saw not the havoc +of the years nor the ruin of the tempest, but only the glory of +the oak-tree's age, which was the ivy's love and ministering.</p> + +<p>1886</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><b>Margaret: A Pearl</b></p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p>MARGARET: A PEARL</p> + +<p>In a certain part of the sea, very many leagues from here, +there once lived a large family of oysters noted for their beauty +and size. But among them was one so small, so feeble, and so +ill-looking as to excite the pity, if not the contempt, of all +the others. The father, a venerable, bearded oyster, of august +appearance and solemn deportment, was much mortified that one of +his family should happen to be so sickly; and he sent for all the +doctors in the sea to come and treat her; from which circumstance +you are to note that doctors are an evil to be met with not alone +upon <i>terra firma</i>. The first to come was Dr. Porpoise, a +gentleman of the old school, who floundered around in a very +important manner and was full of imposing ceremonies.</p> + +<p>"Let me look at your tongue," said Dr. Porpoise, stroking his +beard with one fin, impressively. "Ahem! somewhat coated, I see. +And your pulse is far from normal; no appetite, I presume? Yes, +my dear, your system is sadly out of order. You need +medicine."</p> + +<p>The little oyster hated medicine; so she cried,—yes, she +actually shed cold, briny tears at the very thought of taking old +Dr. Porpoise's prescriptions. But the father-oyster and the +mother-oyster chided her sternly; they said that the medicine +would be nice and sweet, and that the little oyster would like +it. But the little oyster knew better than all that; yes, she +knew a thing or two, even though she <i>was</i> only a little +oyster.</p> + +<p>Now Dr. Porpoise put a plaster on the little oyster's chest +and a blister at her feet. He bade her eat nothing but a tiny bit +of sea-foam on toast twice a day. Every two hours she was to take +a spoonful of cod-liver oil, and before each meal a wineglassful +of the essence of distilled cuttlefish. The plaster she didn't +mind, but the blister and the cod-liver oil were terrible; and +when it came to the essence of distilled cuttlefish —well, she +just couldn't stand it! In vain her mother reasoned with her, and +promised her a new doll and a skipping-rope and a lot of other +nice things: the little oyster would have none of the horrid +drug; until at last her father, abandoning his dignity in order +to maintain his authority, had to hold her down by main strength +and pour the medicine into her mouth. This was, as you will +allow, quite dreadful.</p> + +<p>But this treatment did the little oyster no good; and her +parents made up their minds that they would send for another +doctor, and one of a different school. Fortunately they were in a +position to indulge in almost any expense, since the +father-oyster himself was president of one of the largest banks +of Newfoundland. So Dr. Sculpin came with his neat little +medicine-box under his arm. And when he had looked at the sick +little oyster's tongue, and had taken her temperature, and had +felt her pulse, he said he knew what ailed her; but he did not +tell anybody what it was. He threw away the plasters, the +blisters, the cod-liver oil, and the essence of distilled +cuttlefish, and said it was a wonder that the poor child had +lived through it all!</p> + +<p>"Will you please bring me two tumblerfuls of water?" he +remarked to the mother-oyster.</p> + +<p>The mother-oyster scuttled away, and soon returned with two +conch-shells filled to the brim with pure, clear sea-water. Dr. +Sculpin counted three grains of white sand into one shell, and +three grains of yellow sand into the other shell, with great +care.</p> + +<p>"Now," said he to the mother-oyster, "I have numbered these 1 +and 2. First, you are to give the patient ten drops out of No. 2, +and in an hour after that, eight drops out of No. 1; the next +hour, eight drops out of No. 2; and the next, or fourth, hour, +ten drops out of No. 1. And so you are to continue hour by hour, +until either the medicine or the child gives out."</p> + +<p>"Tell me, doctor," asked the mother, "shall she continue the +food suggested by Dr. Porpoise?"</p> + +<p>"What food did he recommend?" inquired Dr. Sculpin.</p> + +<p>"Sea-foam on toast," answered the mother.</p> + +<p>Dr. Sculpin smiled a smile which seemed to suggest that Dr. +Porpoise's ignorance was really quite annoying.</p> + +<p>"My dear madam," said Dr. Sculpin, "the diet suggested by that +quack, Porpoise, passed out of the books years ago. Give the +child toast on sea-foam, if you wish to build up her debilitated +forces."</p> + +<p>Now, the sick little oyster did not object to this treatment; +on the contrary, she liked it. But it did her no good. And one +day, when she was feeling very dry, she drank both tumblerfuls of +medicine, and it did not do her any harm; neither did it cure +her: she remained the same sick little oyster,—oh, so sick! This +pained her parents very much. They did not know what to do. They +took her travelling; they gave her into the care of the eel for +electric treatment; they sent her to the Gulf Stream for warm +baths,—they tried everything, but to no avail. The sick little +oyster remained a sick little oyster, and there was an end of +it.</p> + +<p>At last one day,—one cruel, fatal day,—a horrid, +fierce-looking machine was poked down from the surface of the +water far above, and with slow but intrepid movement began +exploring every nook and crevice of the oyster village. There was +not a family into which it did not intrude, nor a home circle +whose sanctity it did not ruthlessly invade. It scraped along the +great mossy rock; and lo! with a monstrous scratchy-te-scratch, +the mother-oyster and the father-oyster and hundreds of other +oysters were torn from their resting-places and borne aloft in a +very jumbled and very frightened condition by the impertinent +machine. Then down it came again, and the sick little oyster was +among the number of those who were seized by the horrid monster +this time. She found herself raised to the top of the sea; and +all at once she was bumped in a boat, where she lay, puny and +helpless, on a huge pile of other oysters. Two men were handling +the fierce-looking machine. A little boy sat in the stern of the +boat watching the huge pile of oysters. He was a pretty little +boy, with bright eyes and long tangled hair. He wore no hat, and +his feet were bare and brown.</p> + +<p>"What a funny little oyster!" said the boy, picking up the +sick little oyster; "it is no bigger than my thumb, and it is +very pale."</p> + +<p>"Throw it away," said one of the men. "Like as not it is bad +and not fit to eat."</p> + +<p>"No, keep it and send it out West for a Blue Point," said the +other man,—what a heartless wretch he was!</p> + +<p>But the little boy had already thrown the sick little oyster +overboard. She fell in shallow water, and the rising tide carried +her still farther toward shore, until she lodged against an old +gum boot that lay half buried in the sand. There were no other +oysters in sight; her head ached and she was very weak; how +lonesome, too, she was!—yet anything was better than being +eaten,—at least so thought the little oyster, and so, I presume, +think you.</p> + +<p>For many weeks and many months the sick little oyster lay hard +by the old gum boot; and in that time she made many acquaintances +and friends among the crabs, the lobsters, the fiddlers, the +star-fish, the waves, the shells, and the gay little fishes of +the ocean. They did not harm her, for they saw that she was sick; +they pitied her—some loved her. The one that loved her most was +the perch with green fins that attended school every day in the +academic shade of the big rocks in the quiet cove about a mile +away. He was very gentle and attentive, and every afternoon he +brought fresh, cool sea-foam for the sick oyster to eat; he told +her pretty stories, too,—stories which his grandmother, the +venerable codfish, had told him of the sea-king, the mermaids, +the pixies, the water-sprites, and the other fantastically +beautiful dwellers in ocean depths. Now while all this was very +pleasant, the sick little oyster knew that the perch's wooing was +hopeless, for she was very ill and helpless, and could never +think of becoming a burden upon one so young and so promising as +the gallant perch with green fins. But when she spoke to him in +this strain, he would not listen; he kept right on bringing her +more and more cool sea-foam every day.</p> + +<p>The old gum boot was quite a motherly creature, and anon the +sick little oyster became very much attached to her. Many times +as the little invalid rested her aching head affectionately on +the instep of the old gum boot, the old gum boot told her stories +of the world beyond the sea: how she had been born in a mighty +forest, and how proud her folks were of their family tree; how +she had been taken from that forest and moulded into the shape +she now bore; how she had graced and served a foot in amphibious +capacities, until, at last, having seen many things and having +travelled much, she had been cast off and hurled into the sea to +be the scorn of every crab and the derision of every fish. These +stories were all new to the little oyster, and amazing, too; she +knew only of the sea, having lived therein all her life. She in +turn told the old gum boot quaint legends of the ocean,—the +simple tales she had heard in her early home; and there was a +sweetness and a simplicity in these stories of the deep that +charmed the old gum boot, shrivelled and hardened and pessimistic +though she was.</p> + +<p>Yet, in spite of it all,—the kindness, the care, the +amusements, and the devotion of her friends,—the little oyster +remained always a sick and fragile thing. But no one heard her +complain, for she bore her suffering patiently.</p> + +<p>Not far from this beach where the ocean ended its long travels +there was a city, and in this city there dwelt with her parents a +maiden of the name of Margaret. From infancy she had been sickly, +and although she had now reached the years of early womanhood, +she could not run or walk about as others did, but she had to be +wheeled hither and thither in a chair. This was very sad; yet +Margaret was so gentle and uncomplaining that from aught she said +you never would have thought her life was full of suffering. +Seeing her helplessness, the sympathetic things of Nature had +compassion and were very good to Margaret. The sunbeams stole +across her pathway everywhere, the grass clustered thickest and +greenest where she went, the winds caressed her gently as they +passed, and the birds loved to perch near her window and sing +their prettiest songs. Margaret loved them all,—the sunlight, +the singing winds, the grass, the carolling birds. She communed +with them; their wisdom inspired her life, and this wisdom gave +her nature a rare beauty.</p> + +<p>Every pleasant day Margaret was wheeled from her home in the +city down to the beach, and there for hours she would sit, +looking out, far out upon the ocean, as if she were communing +with the ocean spirits that lifted up their white arms from the +restless waters and beckoned her to come. Oftentimes the children +playing on the beach came where Margaret sat, and heard her tell +little stories of the pebbles and the shells, of the ships away +out at sea, of the ever-speeding gulls, of the grass, of the +flowers, and of the other beautiful things of life; and so in +time the children came to love Margaret. Among those who so often +gathered to hear the gentle sick girl tell her pretty stories was +a youth of Margaret's age,—older than the others, a youth with +sturdy frame and a face full of candor and earnestness. His name +was Edward, and he was a student in the city; he hoped to become +a great scholar sometime, and he toiled very zealously to that +end. The patience, the gentleness, the sweet simplicity, the +fortitude of the sick girl charmed him. He found in her little +stories a quaint and beautiful philosophy he never yet had found +in books; there was a valor in her life he never yet had read of +in the histories. So, every day she came and sat upon the beach, +Edward came too; and with the children he heard Margaret's +stories of the sea, the air, the grass, the birds, and the +flowers. From her moist eyry in the surf the old gum boot +descried the group upon the beach each pleasant day. Now the old +gum boot had seen enough of the world to know a thing or two, as +we presently shall see.</p> + +<p>"That tall young man is not a child," quoth the old gum boot, +"yet he comes every day with the children to hear the sick girl +tell her stories! Ah, ha!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he is the doctor," suggested the little oyster; and +then she added with a sigh, "but, oh! I hope not."</p> + +<p>This suggestion seemed to amuse the old gum boot highly; at +least she fell into such hysterical laughter that she sprung a +leak near her little toe, which, considering her environments, +was a serious mishap.</p> + +<p>"Unless I am greatly mistaken, my child," said the old gum +boot to the little oyster, "that young man is in love with the +sick girl!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, how terrible!" said the little oyster; and she meant it +too, for she was thinking of the gallant young perch with green +fins.</p> + +<p>"Well, I've said it, and I mean it!" continued the old gum +boot; "now just wait and see."</p> + +<p>The old gum boot had guessed aright—so much for the value of +worldly experience! Edward loved Margaret; to him she was the +most beautiful, the most perfect being in the world; her very +words seemed to exalt his nature. Yet he never spoke to her of +love. He was content to come with the children to hear her +stories, to look upon her sweet face, and to worship her in +silence. Was not that a very wondrous love?</p> + +<p>In course of time the sick girl Margaret became more +interested in the little ones that thronged daily to hear her +pretty stories, and she put her beautiful fancies into the little +songs and quaint poems and tender legends,—songs and poems and +legends about the sea, the flowers, the birds, and the other +beautiful creations of Nature; and in all there was a sweet +simplicity, a delicacy, a reverence, that bespoke Margaret's +spiritual purity and wisdom. In this teaching, and marvelling +ever at its beauty, Edward grew to manhood. She was his +inspiration, yet he never spoke of love to Margaret. And so the +years went by.</p> + +<p>Beginning with the children, the world came to know the sick +girl's power. Her songs were sung in every home, and in every +home her verses and her little stories were repeated. And so it +was that Margaret came to be beloved of all, but he who loved her +best spoke never of his love to her.</p> + +<p>And as these years went by, the sick little oyster lay in the +sea cuddled close to the old gum boot. She was wearier now than +ever before, for there was no cure for her malady. The gallant +perch with green fins was very sad, for his wooing had been +hopeless. Still he was devoted, and still he came each day to the +little oyster, bringing her cool sea-foam and other delicacies of +the ocean. Oh, how sick the little oyster was! But the end came +at last.</p> + +<p>The children were on the beach one day, waiting for Margaret, +and they wondered that she did not come. Presently, grown +restless, many of the boys scampered into the water and stood +there, with their trousers rolled up, boldly daring the little +waves that rippled up from the overflow of the surf. And one +little boy happened upon the old gum boot. It was a great +discovery.</p> + +<p>"See the old gum boot," cried the boy, fishing it out of the +water and holding it on high. "And here is a little oyster +fastened to it! How funny!"</p> + +<p>The children gathered round the curious object on the beach. +None of them had ever seen such a funny old gum boot, and surely +none of them had ever seen such a funny little oyster. They tore +the pale, knotted little thing from her foster-mother, and +handled her with such rough curiosity that even had she been a +robust oyster she must certainly have died. At any rate, the +little oyster was dead now; and the bereaved perch with green +fins must have known it, for he swam up and down his native cove +disconsolately.</p> + +<p>It befell in that same hour that Margaret lay upon her +death-bed, and knowing that she had not long to live, she sent +for Edward. And Edward, when he came to her, was filled with +anguish, and clasping her hands in his, he told her of his +love.</p> + +<p>Then Margaret answered him: "I knew it, dear one; and all the +songs I have sung and all the words I have spoken and all the +prayers I have made have been with you, dear one,—all with +<i>you</i>, in my heart of hearts."</p> + +<p>"You have purified and exalted my life," cried Edward; "you +have been my best and sweetest inspiration; you have taught me +the eternal truth,—you are my beloved!"</p> + +<p>And Margaret said: "Then in my weakness hath there been a +wondrous strength, and from my sufferings cometh the glory I have +sought!"</p> + +<p>So Margaret died, and like a broken lily she lay upon her +couch; and all the sweetness of her pure and gentle life seemed +to come back and rest upon her face; and the songs she had sung +and the beautiful stories she had told came back, too, on angel +wings, and made sweet music in that chamber.</p> + +<p>The children were lingering on the beach when Edward came that +day. He could hear them singing the songs Margaret had taught +them. They wondered that he came alone.</p> + +<p>"See," cried one of the boys, running to meet him and holding +a tiny shell in his hand,—"see what we have found in this +strange little shell. Is it not beautiful!"</p> + +<p>Edward took the dwarfed, misshapen thing, and lo! it held a +beauteous pearl.</p> + +<p><i>O little sister mine, let me look into your eyes and read +an inspiration there; let me hold your thin white hand and know +the strength of a philosophy more beautiful than human knowledge +teaches; let me see in your dear, patient little face and hear in +your gentle voice the untold valor of your suffering life. Come, +little sister, let me fold you in my arms and have you ever with +me, that in the glory of your faith and love I may walk the paths +of wisdom and of peace</i>.</p> + +<p>1887.</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><b>The Springtime</b></p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p>THE SPRINGTIME</p> + +<p>A child once said to his grandsire: "Gran'pa, what do the +flowers mean when they talk to the old oak-tree about death? I +hear them talking every day, but I cannot understand; it is all +very strange."</p> + +<p>The grandsire bade the child think no more of these things; +the flowers were foolish prattlers,—what right had they to put +such notions into a child's head? But the child did not do his +grandsire's bidding; he loved the flowers and the trees, and he +went each day to hear them talk.</p> + +<p>It seems that the little vine down by the stone wall had +overheard the south wind say to the rose-bush: "You are a proud, +imperious beauty now, and will not listen to my suit; but wait +till my boisterous brother comes from the North,—then you will +droop and wither and die, all because you would not listen to me +and fly with me to my home by the Southern sea."</p> + +<p>These words set the little vine to thinking; and when she had +thought for a long time she spoke to the daisy about it, and the +daisy called in the violet, and the three little ones had a very +serious conference; but, having talked it all over, they came to +the conclusion that it was as much of a mystery as ever. The old +oak-tree saw them.</p> + +<p>"You little folks seem very much puzzled about something," +said the old oak-tree.</p> + +<p>"I heard the south wind tell the rose-bush that she would +die," exclaimed the vine, "and we do not understand what it is. +Can you tell us what it is to die?"</p> + +<p>The old oak-tree smiled sadly.</p> + +<p>"I do not call it death," said the old oak-tree; "I call it +sleep,—a long, restful, refreshing sleep."</p> + +<p>"How does it feel?" inquired the daisy, looking very full of +astonishment and anxiety.</p> + +<p>"You must know," said the old oak-tree, "that after many, many +days we all have had such merry times and have bloomed so long +and drunk so heartily of the dew and sunshine and eaten so much +of the goodness of the earth that we feel very weary and we long +for repose. Then a great wind comes out of the north, and we +shiver in its icy blast. The sunshine goes away, and there is no +dew for us nor any nourishment in the earth, and we are glad to +go to sleep."</p> + +<p>"Mercy on me!" cried the vine, "I shall not like that at all! +What, leave this smiling meadow and all the pleasant grass and +singing bees and frolicsome butterflies? No, old oak-tree, I +would never go to sleep; I much prefer sporting with the winds +and playing with my little friends, the daisy and the +violet."</p> + +<p>"And I," said the violet, "I think it would be dreadful to go +to sleep. What if we never should wake up again!"</p> + +<p>The suggestion struck the others dumb with terror,—all but +the old oak-tree.</p> + +<p>"Have no fear of that," said the old oak-tree, "for you are +sure to awaken again, and when you have awakened the new life +will be sweeter and happier than the old."</p> + +<p>"What nonsense!" cried the thistle.</p> + +<p>"You children shouldn't believe a word of it. When you go to +sleep you die, and when you die there's the last of you!"</p> + +<p>The old oak-tree reproved the thistle; but the thistle +maintained his abominable heresy so stoutly that the little vine +and the daisy and the violet were quite at a loss to know which +of the two to believe,—the old oak-tree or the thistle.</p> + +<p>The child heard it all and was sorely puzzled. What was this +death, this mysterious sleep? Would it come upon him, the child? +And after he had slept awhile would he awaken? His grandsire +would not tell him of these things; perhaps his grandsire did not +know.</p> + +<p>It was a long, long summer, full of sunshine and bird-music, +and the meadow was like a garden, and the old oak-tree looked +down upon the grass and flowers and saw that no evil befell them. +A long, long play-day it was to the little vine, the daisy, and +the violet. The crickets and the grasshoppers and the bumblebees +joined in the sport, and romped and made music till it seemed +like an endless carnival. Only every now and then the vine and +her little flower friends talked with the old oak-tree about that +strange sleep and the promised awakening, and the thistle scoffed +at the old oak-tree's cheering words. The child was there and +heard it all.</p> + +<p>One day the great wind came out of the north. Hurry-scurry! +back to their warm homes in the earth and under the old stone +wall scampered the crickets and bumblebees to go to sleep. Whirr, +whirr! Oh, but how piercing the great wind was; how different +from his amiable brother who had travelled all the way from the +Southern sea to kiss the flowers and woo the rose!</p> + +<p>"Well, this is the last of us!" exclaimed the thistle; "we're +going to die, and that's the end of it all!"</p> + +<p>"No, no," cried the old oak-tree; "we shall not die; we are +going to sleep. Here, take my leaves, little flowers, and you +shall sleep warm under them. Then, when you awaken, you shall see +how much sweeter and happier the new life is."</p> + +<p>The little ones were very weary indeed. The promised sleep +came very gratefully.</p> + +<p>"We would not be so willing to go to sleep if we thought we +should not awaken," said the violet.</p> + +<p>So the little ones went to sleep. The little vine was the last +of all to sink to her slumbers; she nodded in the wind and tried +to keep awake till she saw the old oak-tree close his eyes, but +her efforts were vain; she nodded and nodded, and bowed her +slender form against the old stone wall, till finally she, too, +had sunk into repose. And then the old oak-tree stretched his +weary limbs and gave a last look at the sullen sky and at the +slumbering little ones at his feet; and with that, the old +oak-tree fell asleep too.</p> + +<p>The child saw all these things, and he wanted to ask his +grandsire about them, but his grandsire would not tell him of +them; perhaps his grandsire did not know.</p> + +<p>The child saw the storm-king come down from the hills and ride +furiously over the meadows and over the forest and over the town. +The snow fell everywhere, and the north wind played solemn music +in the chimneys. The storm-king put the brook to bed, and threw a +great mantle of snow over him; and the brook that had romped and +prattled all the summer and told pretty tales to the grass and +flowers,—the brook went to sleep too. With all his fierceness +and bluster, the storm-king was very kind; he did not awaken the +old oak-tree and the slumbering flowers. The little vine lay +under the fleecy snow against the old stone wall and slept +peacefully, and so did the violet and the daisy. Only the wicked +old thistle thrashed about in his sleep as if he dreamed bad +dreams, which, all will allow, was no more than he deserved.</p> + +<p>All through that winter—and it seemed very long—the child +thought of the flowers and the vine and the old oak-tree, and +wondered whether in the springtime they would awaken from their +sleep; and he wished for the springtime to come. And at last the +springtime came. One day the sunbeams fluttered down from the sky +and danced all over the meadow.</p> + +<p>"Wake up, little friends!" cried the sunbeams,—"wake up, for +it is the springtime!"</p> + +<p>The brook was the first to respond. So eager, so fresh, so +exuberant was he after his long winter sleep, that he leaped from +his bed and frolicked all over the meadow and played all sorts of +curious antics. Then a little bluebird was seen in the hedge one +morning. He was calling to the violet.</p> + +<p>"Wake up, little violet," called the bluebird. "Have I come +all this distance to find you sleeping? Wake up; it is the +springtime!"</p> + +<p>That pretty little voice awakened the violet, of course.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how sweetly I have slept!" cried the violet; "how happy +this new life is! Welcome, dear friends!"</p> + +<p>And presently the daisy awakened, fresh and beautiful, and +then the little vine, and, last of all, the old oak-tree. The +meadow was green, and all around there were the music, the +fragrance, the new, sweet life of the springtime.</p> + +<p>"I slept horribly," growled the thistle. "I had bad dreams. It +was sleep, after all, but it ought to have been death."</p> + +<p>The thistle never complained again; for just then a +four-footed monster stalked through the meadow and plucked and +ate the thistle and then stalked gloomily away; which was the +last of the sceptical thistle,—truly a most miserable end!</p> + +<p>"You said the truth, dear old oak-tree!" cried the little +vine. "It was not death,—it was only a sleep, a sweet, +refreshing sleep, and this awakening is very beautiful."</p> + +<p>They all said so,—the daisy, the violet, the oak-tree, the +crickets, the bees, and all the things and creatures of the field +and forest that had awakened from their long sleep to swell the +beauty and the glory of the springtime. And they talked with the +child, and the child heard them. And although the grandsire never +spoke to the child about these things, the child learned from the +flowers and trees a lesson of the springtime which perhaps the +grandsire never knew.</p> + +<p>1885</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><b>Rodolph and his King</b></p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p>RODOLPH AND HIS KING</p> + +<p>"Tell me, Father," said the child at Rodolph's knee,—"tell me +of the king."</p> + +<p>"There is no king, my child," said Rodolph. "What you have +heard are old women's tales. Do not believe them, for there is no +king."</p> + +<p>"But why, then," queried the child, "do all the people praise +and call on him; why do the birds sing of the king; and why do +the brooks always prattle his name, as they dance from the hills +to the sea?"</p> + +<p>"Nay," answered Rodolph, "you imagine these things; there is +no king. Believe me, child, there is no king."</p> + +<p>So spake Rodolph; but scarcely had he uttered the words when +the cricket in the chimney corner chirped loudly, and his shrill +notes seemed to say: "The king—the king." Rodolph could hardly +believe his ears. How had the cricket learned to chirp these +words? It was beyond all understanding. But still the cricket +chirped, and still his musical monotone seemed to say, "The +king—the king," until, with an angry frown, Rodolph strode from +his house, leaving the child to hear the cricket's song +alone.</p> + +<p>But there were other voices to remind Rodolph of the king. The +sparrows were fluttering under the eaves, and they twittered +noisily as Rodolph strode along, "The king, king, king!" "The +king, king, king," twittered the sparrows, and their little tones +were full of gladness and praise.</p> + +<p>A thrush sat in the hedge, and she was singing her morning +song. It was a hymn of praise,—how beautiful it was! "The +king—the king—the king," sang the thrush, and she sang, too, of +his goodness,—it was a wondrous song, and it was all about the +king.</p> + +<p>The doves cooed in the elm-trees. "Sing to us!" cried their +little ones, stretching out their pretty heads from the nests. +Then the doves nestled hard by and murmured lullabies, and the +lullabies were of the king who watched over and protected even +the little birds in their nests.</p> + +<p>Rodolph heard these things, and they filled him with +anger.</p> + +<p>"It is a lie!" muttered Rodolph; and in great petulance he +came to the brook.</p> + +<p>How noisy and romping the brook was; how capricious, how +playful, how furtive! And how he called to the willows and +prattled to the listening grass as he scampered on his way. But +Rodolph turned aside and his face grew darker. He did not like +the voice of the brook; for, lo! just as the cricket had chirped +and the birds had sung, so did this brook murmur and prattle and +sing ever of the king, the king, the king.</p> + +<p>So, always after that, wherever Rodolph went, he heard voices +that told him of the king; yes, even in their quiet, humble way, +the flowers seemed to whisper the king's name, and every breeze +that fanned his brow had a tale to tell of the king and his +goodness.</p> + +<p>"But there is no king!" cried Rodolph. "They all conspire to +plague me! There is no king—there is no king!"</p> + +<p>Once he stood by the sea and saw a mighty ship go sailing by. +The waves plashed on the shore and told stories to the pebbles +and the sands. Rodolph heard their thousand voices, and he heard +them telling of the king.</p> + +<p>Then a great storm came upon the sea, a tempest such as never +before had been seen. The waves dashed mountain-high and +overwhelmed the ship, and the giant voices of the winds and waves +cried of the king, the king! The sailors strove in agony till all +seemed lost. Then, when they could do no more, they stretched out +their hands and called upon the king to save them,—the king, the +king, the king!</p> + +<p>Rodolph saw the tempest subside. The angry winds were lulled, +and the mountain waves sank into sleep, and the ship came safely +into port. Then the sailors sang a hymn of praise, and the hymn +was of the king and to the king.</p> + +<p>"But there is no king!" cried Rodolph. "It is a lie; there is +no king!"</p> + +<p>Yet everywhere he went he heard always of the king; the king's +name and the king's praises were on every tongue; ay, and the +things that had no voices seemed to wear the king's name written +upon them, until Rodolph neither saw nor heard anything that did +not mind him of the king.</p> + +<p>Then, in great anger, Rodolph said: "I will go to the +mountain-tops; there I shall find no birds, nor trees, nor +brooks, nor flowers to prate of a monarch no one has ever seen. +There shall there be no sea to vex me with its murmurings, nor +any human voice to displease me with its superstitions."</p> + +<p>So Rodolph went to the mountains, and he scaled the loftiest +pinnacle, hoping that there at last he might hear no more of that +king whom none had ever seen. And as he stood upon the pinnacle, +what a mighty panorama was spread before him, and what a mighty +anthem swelled upon his ears! The peopled plains, with their +songs and murmurings, lay far below; on every side the mountain +peaks loomed up in snowy grandeur; and overhead he saw the sky, +blue, cold, and cloudless, from horizon to horizon.</p> + +<p>What voice was that which spoke in Rodolph's bosom then as +Rodolph's eyes beheld this revelation?</p> + +<p>"There is a king!" said the voice. "The king lives, and this +is his abiding-place!"</p> + +<p>And how did Rodolph's heart stand still when he felt Silence +proclaim the king,—not in tones of thunder, as the tempest had +proclaimed him, nor in the singing voices of the birds and +brooks, but so swiftly, so surely, so grandly, that Rodolph's +soul was filled with awe ineffable.</p> + +<p>Then Rodolph cried: "There is a king, and I acknowledge him! +Henceforth my voice shall swell the songs of all in earth and air +and sea that know and praise his name!"</p> + +<p>So Rodolph went to his home. He heard the cricket singing of +the king; yes, and the sparrows under the eaves, the thrush in +the hedge, the doves in the elms, and the brook, too, all singing +of the king; and Rodolph's heart was gladdened by their music. +And all the earth and the things of the earth seemed more +beautiful to Rodolph now that he believed in the king; and to the +song all Nature sang Rodolph's voice and Rodolph's heart made +harmonious response.</p> + +<p>"There <i>is</i> a king, my child," said Rodolph to his little +one. "Together let us sing to him, for he is <i>our</i> king, and +his goodness abideth forever and forever."</p> + +<p>1885.</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><b>The Hampshire Hills</b></p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p>THE HAMPSHIRE HILLS</p> + +<p>One afternoon many years ago two little brothers named Seth +and Abner were playing in the orchard. They were not troubled +with the heat of the August day, for a soft, cool wind came up +from the river in the valley over yonder and fanned their red +cheeks and played all kinds of pranks with their tangled curls. +All about them was the hum of bees, the song of birds, the smell +of clover, and the merry music of the crickets. Their little dog +Fido chased them through the high, waving grass, and rolled with +them under the trees, and barked himself hoarse in his attempt to +keep pace with their laughter. Wearied at length, they lay +beneath the bellflower-tree and looked off at the Hampshire +hills, and wondered if the time ever would come when they should +go out into the world beyond those hills and be great, noisy men. +Fido did not understand it at all. He lolled in the grass, +cooling his tongue on the clover bloom, and puzzling his brain to +know why his little masters were so quiet all at once.</p> + +<p>"I wish I were a man," said Abner, ruefully. "I want to be +somebody and do something. It is very hard to be a little boy so +long and to have no companions but little boys and girls, to see +nothing but these same old trees and this same high grass, and to +hear nothing but the same bird-songs from one day to +another."</p> + +<p>"That is true," said Seth. "I, too, am very tired of being a +little boy, and I long to go out into the world and be a man like +my gran'pa or my father or my uncles. With nothing to look at but +those distant hills and the river in the valley, my eyes are +wearied; and I shall be very happy when I am big enough to leave +this stupid place."</p> + +<p>Had Fido understood their words he would have chided them, for +the little dog loved his home and had no thought of any other +pleasure than romping through the orchard and playing with his +little masters all the day. But Fido did not understand them.</p> + +<p>The clover bloom heard them with sadness. Had they but +listened in turn they would have heard the clover saying softly: +"Stay with me while you may, little boys; trample me with your +merry feet; let me feel the imprint of your curly heads and kiss +the sunburn on your little cheeks. Love me while you may, for +when you go away you never will come back."</p> + +<p>The bellflower-tree heard them, too, and she waved her great, +strong branches as if she would caress the impatient little lads, +and she whispered: "Do not think of leaving me: you are children, +and you know nothing of the world beyond those distant hills. It +is full of trouble and care and sorrow; abide here in this quiet +spot till you are prepared to meet the vexations of that outer +world. We are for <i>you</i>,—we trees and grass and birds and +bees and flowers. Abide with us, and learn the wisdom we +teach."</p> + +<p>The cricket in the raspberry-hedge heard them, and she +chirped, oh! so sadly: "You will go out into the world and leave +us and never think of us again till it is too late to return. +Open your ears, little boys, and hear my song of +contentment."</p> + +<p>So spake the clover bloom and the bellflower-tree and the +cricket; and in like manner the robin that nested in the linden +over yonder, and the big bumblebee that lived in the hole under +the pasture gate, and the butterfly and the wild rose pleaded +with them, each in his own way; but the little boys did not heed +them, so eager were their desires to go into and mingle with the +great world beyond those distant hills.</p> + +<p>Many years went by; and at last Seth and Abner grew to +manhood, and the time was come when they were to go into the +world and be brave, strong men. Fido had been dead a long time. +They had made him a grave under the bellflower-tree,—yes, just +where he had romped with the two little boys that August +afternoon Fido lay sleeping amid the humming of the bees and the +perfume of the clover. But Seth and Abner did not think of Fido +now, nor did they give even a passing thought to any of their old +friends,—the bellflower-tree, the clover, the cricket, and the +robin. Their hearts beat with exultation. They were men, and they +were going beyond the hills to know and try the world.</p> + +<p>They were equipped for that struggle, not in a vain, frivolous +way, but as good and brave young men should be. A gentle mother +had counselled them, a prudent father had advised them, and they +had gathered from the sweet things of Nature much of that wisdom +before which all knowledge is as nothing. So they were fortified. +They went beyond the hills and came into the West. How great and +busy was the world,—how great and busy it was here in the West! +What a rush and noise and turmoil and seething and surging, and +how keenly did the brothers have to watch and struggle for +vantage ground. Withal, they prospered; the counsel of the +mother, the advice of the father, the wisdom of the grass and +flowers and trees, were much to them, and they prospered. Honor +and riches came to them, and they were happy. But amid it all, +how seldom they thought of the little home among the circling +hills where they had learned the first sweet lessons of life!</p> + +<p>And now they were old and gray. They lived in splendid +mansions, and all people paid them honor.</p> + +<p>One August day a grim messenger stood in Seth's presence and +beckoned to him.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" cried Seth. "What strange power have you over +me that the very sight of you chills my blood and stays the +beating of my heart?"</p> + +<p>Then the messenger threw aside his mask, and Seth saw that he +was Death. Seth made no outcry; he knew what the summons meant, +and he was content. But he sent for Abner.</p> + +<p>And when Abner came, Seth was stretched upon his bed, and +there was a strange look in his eyes and a flush upon his cheeks, +as though a fatal fever had laid hold on him.</p> + +<p>"You shall not die!" cried Abner, and he threw himself about +his brother's neck and wept.</p> + +<p>But Seth bade Abner cease his outcry. "Sit here by my bedside +and talk with me," said he, "and let us speak of the Hampshire +hills."</p> + +<p>A great wonder overcame Abner. With reverence he listened, and +as he listened a sweet peace seemed to steal into his soul.</p> + +<p>"I am prepared for Death," said Seth, "and I will go with +Death this day. Let us talk of our childhood now, for, after all +the battle with this great world, it is pleasant to think and +speak of our boyhood among the Hampshire hills."</p> + +<p>"Say on, dear brother," said Abner.</p> + +<p>"I am thinking of an August day long ago," said Seth, solemnly +and softly. "It was <i>so very</i> long ago, and yet it seems +only yesterday. We were in the orchard together, under the +bellflower-tree, and our little dog—"</p> + +<p>"Fido," said Abner, remembering it all, as the years came +back.</p> + +<p>"Fido and you and I, under the bellflower-tree," said Seth. +"How we had played, and how weary we were, and how cool the grass +was, and how sweet was the fragrance of the flowers! Can you +remember it, brother?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," replied Abner, "and I remember how we lay among the +clover and looked off at the distant hills and wondered of the +world beyond."</p> + +<p>"And amid our wonderings and longings," said Seth, "how the +old bellflower-tree seemed to stretch her kind arms down to us as +if she would hold us away from that world beyond the hills."</p> + +<p>"And now I can remember that the clover whispered to us, and +the cricket in the raspberry-hedge sang to us of contentment," +said Abner.</p> + +<p>"The robin, too, carolled in the linden."</p> + +<p>"It is very sweet to remember it now," said Seth. "How blue +and hazy the hills looked; how cool the breeze blew up from the +river; how like a silver lake the old pickerel pond sweltered +under the summer sun over beyond the pasture and broomcorn, and +how merry was the music of the birds and bees!"</p> + +<p>So these old men, who had been little boys together, talked of +the August afternoon when with Fido they had romped in the +orchard and rested beneath the bell-flower-tree. And Seth's voice +grew fainter, and his eyes were, oh! so dim; but to the very last +he spoke of the dear old days and the orchard and the clover and +the Hampshire hills. And when Seth fell asleep forever, Abner +kissed his brother's lips and knelt at the bedside and said the +prayer his mother had taught him.</p> + +<p>In the street without there was the noise of passing carts, +the cries of tradespeople, and all the bustle of a great and busy +city; but, looking upon Seth's dear, dead face, Abner could hear +only the music voices of birds and crickets and summer winds as +he had heard them with Seth when they were little boys together, +back among the Hampshire hills.</p> + +<p>1885.</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><b>Ezra's Thanksgivin' Out West</b></p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p>EZRA'S THANKSGIVIN' OUT WEST</p> + +<p>Ezra had written a letter to the home folks, and in it he had +complained that never before had he spent such a weary, lonesome +day as this Thanksgiving day had been. Having finished this +letter, he sat for a long time gazing idly into the open fire +that snapped cinders all over the hearthstone and sent its red +forks dancing up the chimney to join the winds that frolicked and +gambolled across the Kansas prairies that raw November night. It +had rained hard all day, and was cold; and although the open fire +made every honest effort to be cheerful, Ezra, as he sat in front +of it in the wooden rocker and looked down into the glowing +embers, experienced a dreadful feeling of loneliness and +homesickness.</p> + +<p>"I'm sick o' Kansas," said Ezra to himself. "Here I 've been +in this plaguy country for goin' on a year, and—yes, I'm sick of +it, powerful sick of it. What a miser'ble Thanksgivin' this has +been! They don't know what Thanksgivin' is out this way. I wish I +was back in ol' Mass'chusetts—that's the country for <i>me</i>, +and they hev the kind o' Thanksgivin' I like!"</p> + +<p>Musing in this strain, while the rain went patter-patter on +the window-panes, Ezra saw a strange sight in the +fireplace,—yes, right among the embers and the crackling flames +Ezra saw a strange, beautiful picture unfold and spread itself +out like a panorama.</p> + +<p>"How very wonderful!" murmured the young man. Yet he did not +take his eyes away, for the picture soothed him and he loved to +look upon it.</p> + +<p>"It is a pictur' of long ago," said Ezra, softly. "I had like +to forgot it, but now it comes back to me as nat'ral-like as an +ol' friend. An' I seem to be a part of it, an' the feelin' of +that time comes back with the pictur', too."</p> + +<p>Ezra did not stir. His head rested upon his hand, and his eyes +were fixed upon the shadows in the firelight.</p> + +<p>"It is a pictur' of the ol' home," said Ezra to himself. "I am +back there in Belchertown, with the Holyoke hills up north an' +the Berkshire mountains a-loomin' up gray an' misty-like in the +western horizon. Seems as if it wuz early mornin'; everything is +still, and it is so cold when we boys crawl out o' bed that, if +it wuzn't Thanksgivin' mornin', we'd crawl back again an' wait +for Mother to call us. But it <i>is</i> Thanksgivin' mornin', an' +we're goin' skatin' down on the pond. The squealin' o' the pigs +has told us it is five o'clock, and we must hurry; we're goin' to +call by for the Dickerson boys an' Hiram Peabody, an' we've got +to hyper! Brother Amos gets on 'bout half o' my clo'es, an' I get +on 'bout half o' his, but it's all the same; they are stout, warm +clo'es, and they're big enough to fit any of us boys,—Mother +looked out for that when she made 'em. When we go down-stairs we +find the girls there, all bundled up nice an' warm,—Mary an' +Helen an' Cousin Irene. They're goin' with us, an' we all start +out tiptoe and quiet-like so's not to wake up the ol' folks. The +ground is frozen hard; we stub our toes on the frozen ruts in the +road. When we come to the minister's house, Laura is standin' on +the front stoop, a-waitin' for us. Laura is the minister's +daughter. She's a friend o' Sister Helen's—pretty as a +dag'err'otype, an' gentle-like and tender. Laura lets me carry +her skates, an' I'm glad of it, although I have my hands full +already with the lantern, the hockies, and the rest. Hiram +Peabody keeps us waitin', for he has overslept himself, an' when +he comes trottin' out at last the girls make fun of him,—all +except Sister Mary, an' she sort o' sticks up for Hiram, an' +we're all so 'cute we kind o' calc'late we know the reason +why.</p> + +<p>"And now," said Ezra, softly, "the pictur' changes; seems as +if I could see the pond. The ice is like a black lookin'-glass, +and Hiram Peabody slips up the first thing, an' down he comes +lickety-split, an' we all laugh,—except Sister Mary, an' +<i>she</i> says it is very imp'lite to laugh at other folks' +misfortunes. Ough! how cold it is, and how my fingers ache with +the frost when I take off my mittens to strap on Laura's skates! +But, oh, how my cheeks burn! And how careful I am not to hurt +Laura, an' how I ask her if that's 'tight enough,' an' how she +tells me 'jist a little tighter,' and how we two keep foolin' +along till the others hev gone an' we are left alone! An' how +quick I get my <i>own</i> skates strapped on,—none o' your +new-fangled skates with springs an' plates an' clamps an' such, +but honest, ol'-fashioned wooden ones with steel runners that +curl up over my toes an' have a bright brass button on the end! +How I strap 'em and lash 'em and buckle 'em on! An' Laura waits +for me an' tells me to be sure to get 'em on tight enough,—why, +bless me! after I once got 'em strapped on, if them skates hed +come off, the feet w'u'd ha' come with 'em! An' now away we +go,—Laura an' me. Around the bend—near the medder where Si +Barker's dog killed a woodchuck last summer—we meet the rest. We +forget all about the cold. We run races an' play snap the whip, +an' cut all sorts o' didoes, an' we never mind the pick'rel weed +that is froze in on the ice an' trips us up every time we cut the +outside edge; an' then we boys jump over the airholes, an' the +girls stan' by an' scream an' tell us they know we're agoin' to +drownd ourselves. So the hours go, an' it is sun-up at last, an' +Sister Helen says we must be gettin' home. When we take our +skates off, our feet feel as if they were wood. Laura has lost +her tippet; I lend her mine, an' she kind o' blushes. The old +pond seems glad to have us go, and the fire-hangbird's nest in +the willer-tree waves us good-by. Laura promises to come over to +our house in the evenin', and so we break up.</p> + +<p>"Seems now," continued Ezra, musingly,—"seems now as if I +could see us all at breakfast. The race on the pond has made us +hungry, and Mother says she never knew anybody else's boys that +had such capac'ties as hers. It is the Yankee Thanksgivin' +breakfast,—sausages an' fried potatoes, an' buckwheat cakes an' +syrup,—maple syrup, mind ye, for Father has his own sugar-bush, +and there was a big run o' sap last season. Mother says, 'Ezry +an' Amos, won't you never get through eatin'? We want to clear +off the table, for there's pies to make, an' nuts to crack, and +laws sakes alive! the turkey's got to be stuffed yit!' Then how +we all fly round! Mother sends Helen up into the attic to get a +squash while Mary's makin' the pie-crust. Amos an' I crack the +walnuts,—they call 'em hickory nuts out in this pesky country of +sage-brush and pasture land. The walnuts are hard, and it's all +we can do to crack 'em. Ev'ry once 'n a while one on 'em slips +outer our fingers an' goes dancin' over the floor or flies into +the pan Helen is squeezin' pumpkin into through the col'nder. +Helen says we're shif'less an' good for nothin' but frivollin'; +but Mother tells us how to crack the walnuts so's not to let 'em +fly all over the room, an' so's not to be all jammed to pieces +like the walnuts was down at the party at the Peasleys' last +winter. An' now here comes Tryphena Foster, with her gingham gown +an' muslin apron on; her folks have gone up to Amherst for +Thanksgivin', an' Tryphena has come over to help our folks get +dinner. She thinks a great deal o' Mother, 'cause Mother teaches +her Sunday-school class an' says Tryphena oughter marry a +missionary. There is bustle everywhere, the rattle of pans an' +the clatter of dishes; an' the new kitch'n stove begins to warm +up an' git red, till Helen loses her wits an' is flustered, an' +sez she never could git the hang o' that stove's dampers.</p> + +<p>"An' now," murmured Ezra, gently, as a tone of deeper +reverence crept into his voice, "I can see Father sittin' all by +himself in the parlor. Father's hair is very gray, and there are +wrinkles on his honest old face. He is lookin' through the winder +at the Holyoke hills over yonder, and I can guess he's thinkin' +of the time when he wuz a boy like me an' Amos, an' useter climb +over them hills an' kill rattlesnakes an' hunt partridges. Or +doesn't his eyes quite reach the Holyoke hills? Do they fall kind +o' lovingly but sadly on the little buryin'-ground jest beyond +the village? Ah, Father knows that spot, an' he loves it, too, +for there are treasures there whose memory he wouldn't swap for +all the world could give. So, while there is a kind o' mist in +Father's eyes, I can see he is dreamin'-like of sweet an' tender +things, and a-com-munin' with memory,—hearin' voices I never +heard an' feelin' the tech of hands I never pressed; an' seein' +Father's peaceful face I find it hard to think of a Thanksgivin' +sweeter than Father's is.</p> + +<p>"The pictur' in the firelight changes now," said Ezra, "an' +seems as if I wuz in the old frame meetin'-house. The +meetin'-house is on the hill, and meetin' begins at half-pas' +ten. Our pew is well up in front,—seems as if I could see it +now. It has a long red cushion on the seat, and in the hymn-book +rack there is a Bible an' a couple of Psalmodies. We walk up the +aisle slow, and Mother goes in first; then comes Mary, then me, +then Helen, then Amos, and then Father. Father thinks it is jest +as well to have one o' the girls set in between me an' Amos. The +meetin'-house is full, for everybody goes to meetin' Thanksgivin' +day. The minister reads the proclamation an' makes a prayer, an' +then he gives out a psalm, an' we all stan' up an' turn round an' +join the choir. Sam Merritt has come up from Palmer to spend +Thanksgivin' with the ol' folks, an' he is singin' tenor to-day +in his ol' place in the choir. Some folks say he sings wonderful +well, but <i>I</i> don't like Sam's voice. Laura sings soprano in +the choir, and Sam stands next to her an' holds the book.</p> + +<p>"Seems as if I could hear the minister's voice, full of +earnestness an' melody, comin' from 'way up in his little round +pulpit. He is tellin' us why we should be thankful, an', as he +quotes Scriptur' an' Dr. Watts, we boys wonder how anybody can +remember so much of the Bible. Then I get nervous and worried. +Seems to me the minister was never comin' to lastly, and I find +myself wonderin' whether Laura is listenin' to what the preachin' +is about, or is writin' notes to Sam Merritt in the back of the +tune-book. I get thirsty, too, and I fidget about till Father +looks at me, and Mother nudges Helen, and Helen passes it along +to me with interest.</p> + +<p>"An' then," continues Ezra in his revery, "when the last hymn +is given out an' we stan' up ag'in an' join the choir, I am glad +to see that Laura is singin' outer the book with Miss Hubbard, +the alto. An' goin' out o' meetin' I kind of edge up to Laura and +ask her if I kin have the pleasure of seen' her home.</p> + +<p>"An' now we boys all go out on the Common to play ball. The +Enfield boys have come over, and, as all the Hampshire county +folks know, they are tough fellers to beat. Gorham Polly keeps +tally, because he has got the newest jack-knife,—oh, how slick +it whittles the old broom-handle Gorham picked up in Packard's +store an' brought along jest to keep tally on! It is a great game +of ball; the bats are broad and light, and the ball is small and +soft. But the Enfield boys beat us at last; leastwise they make +70 tallies to our 58, when Heman Fitts knocks the ball over into +Aunt Dorcas Eastman's yard, and Aunt Dorcas comes out an' picks +up the ball an' takes it into the house, an' we have to stop +playin'. Then Phineas Owens allows he can flop any boy in +Belchertown, an' Moses Baker takes him up, an' they wrassle like +two tartars, till at last Moses tuckers Phineas out an' downs him +as slick as a whistle.</p> + +<p>"Then we all go home, for Thanksgivin' dinner is ready. Two +long tables have been made into one, and one of the big +tablecloths Gran'ma had when she set up housekeepin' is spread +over 'em both. We all set round, Father, Mother, Aunt Lydia +Holbrook, Uncle Jason, Mary, Helen, Tryphena Foster, Amos, and +me. How big an' brown the turkey is, and how good it smells! +There are bounteous dishes of mashed potato, turnip, an' squash, +and the celery is very white and cold, the biscuits are light an' +hot, and the stewed cranberries are red as Laura's cheeks. Amos +and I get the drumsticks; Mary wants the wish-bone to put overthe +door for Hiram, but Helen gets it. Poor Mary, she always +<i>did</i> have to give up to 'rushin' Helen,' as we call her. +The pies,—oh, what pies Mother makes; no dyspepsia in 'em, but +good-nature an' good health an' hospitality! Pumpkin pies, mince +an' apple too, and then a big dish of pippins an' russets an' +bellflowers, an', last of all, walnuts with cider from the +Zebrina Dickerson farm! I tell ye, there's a Thanksgivin' dinner +for ye! that's what we get in old Belchertown; an' that's the +kind of livin' that makes the Yankees so all-fired good an' +smart.</p> + +<p>"But the best of all," said Ezra, very softly to +himself,—"oh, yes, the best scene in all the pictur' is when +evenin' comes, when the lamps are lit in the parlor, when the +neighbors come in, and when there is music an' singin' an' games. +An' it's this part o' the pictur' that makes me homesick now and +fills my heart with a longin' I never had before; an' yet it sort +o' mellows an' comforts me, too. Miss Serena Cadwell, whose beau +was killed in the war, plays on the melodeon, and we all +sing,—all on us, men, womenfolks, an' children. Sam Merritt is +there, an' he sings a tenor song about love. The women sort of +whisper round that he's goin' to be married to a Palmer lady nex' +spring, an' I think to myself I never heard better singin' than +Sam's. Then we play games, proverbs, buzz, clap-in-clap-out, +copenhagen, fox-an'-geese, button-button-who's-got-the-button, +spin-the-platter, go-to-Jerusalem, my-ship's-come-in, and all the +rest. The ol' folks play with the young folks just as nat'ral as +can be; and we all laugh when Deacon Hosea Cowles hez to measure +six yards of love ribbon with Miss Hepsy Newton, and cut each +yard with a kiss; for the deacon hez been sort o' purrin' round +Miss Hepsy for goin' on two years. Then, aft'r a while, when Mary +an' Helen bring in the cookies, nut-cakes, cider, an' apples, +Mother says: 'I don't b'lieve we're goin' to hev enough apples to +go round; Ezry, I guess I'll have to get you to go down-cellar +for some more.' Then I says: 'All right, Mother, I'll go, +providin' some one'll go along an' hold the candle.' An' when I +say this I look right at Laura and she blushes. Then Helen, jest +for meanness, says: 'Ezry, I s'pose you ain't willin' to have +your fav'rite sister go down-cellar with you an' catch her death +o' cold?' But Mary, who hez been showin' Hiram Peabody the +phot'graph album for more 'n an hour, comes to the rescue an' +makes Laura take the candle, and she shows Laura how to hold it +so it won't go out.</p> + +<p>"The cellar is warm an' dark. There are cobwebs all between +the rafters an' everywhere else except on the shelves where +Mother keeps the butter an' eggs an' other things that would +freeze in the butt'ry upstairs. The apples are in bar'ls up +against the wall, near the potater-bin. How fresh an' sweet they +smell! Laura thinks she sees a mouse, an' she trembles an' wants +to jump up on the pork-bar'l, but I tell her that there sha'n't +no mouse hurt her while I'm round; and I mean it, too, for the +sight of Laura a-tremblin' makes me as strong as one of Father's +steers. 'What kind of apples do you like best, Ezry?' asks +Laura,—'russets or greenin's or crow-eggs or bell-flowers or +Baldwins or pippins?' 'I like the Baldwins best,' says I, ''coz +they've got red cheeks jest like yours.' 'Why, Ezry Thompson! how +you talk!' says Laura. 'You oughter be ashamed of yourself!' But +when I get the dish filled up with apples there ain't a Baldwin +in all the lot that can compare with the bright red of Laura's +cheeks. An' Laura knows it, too, an' she sees the mouse ag'in, +an' screams, and then the candle goes out, and we are in a +dreadful stew. But I, bein' almost a man, contrive to bear up +under it, and knowin' she is an orph'n, I comfort an' encourage +Laura the best I know how, and we are almost up-stairs when +Mother comes to the door and wants to know what has kep' us so +long. Jest as if Mother doesn't know! Of course she does; an' +when Mother kisses Laura good-by that night there is in the act a +tenderness that speaks more sweetly than even Mother's words.</p> + +<p>"It is so like Mother," mused Ezra; "so like her with her +gentleness an' clingin' love. Hers is the sweetest picture of +all, and hers the best love."</p> + +<p>Dream on, Ezra; dream of the old home with its dear ones, its +holy influences, and its precious inspiration,—mother. Dream on +in the far-away firelight; and as the angel hand of memory +unfolds these sacred visions, with thee and them shall abide, +like a Divine comforter, the spirit of thanksgiving.</p> + +<p>1885.</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><b>Ludwig and Eloise</b></p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p>LUDWIG AND ELOISE</p> + +<p>Once upon a time there were two youths named Herman and +Ludwig; and they both loved Eloise, the daughter of the old +burgomaster. Now, the old burgomaster was very rich, and having +no child but Eloise, he was anxious that she should be well +married and settled in life. "For," said he, "death is likely to +come to me at any time: I am old and feeble, and I want to see my +child sheltered by another's love before I am done with earth +forever."</p> + +<p>Eloise was much beloved by all the youth in the village, and +there was not one who would not gladly have taken her to wife; +but none loved her so much as did Herman and Ludwig. Nor did +Eloise care for any but Herman and Ludwig, and she loved Herman. +The burgomaster said: "Choose whom you will—I care not! So long +as he be honest I will have him for a son and thank Heaven for +him."</p> + +<p>So Eloise chose Herman, and all said she chose wisely; for +Herman was young and handsome, and by his valor had won +distinction in the army, and had thrice been complimented by the +general. So when the brave young captain led Eloise to the altar +there was great rejoicing in the village. The beaux, forgetting +their disappointments, and the maidens, seeing the cause of all +their jealousy removed, made merry together; and it was said that +never had there been in the history of the province an event so +joyous as was the wedding of Herman and Eloise.</p> + +<p>But in all the village there was one aching heart. Ludwig, the +young musician, saw with quiet despair the maiden he loved go to +the altar with another. He had known Eloise from childhood, and +he could not say when his love of her began, it was so very long +ago; but now he knew his heart was consumed by a hopeless +passion. Once, at a village festival, he had begun to speak to +her of his love; but Eloise had placed her hand kindly upon his +lips and told him to say no further, for they had always been and +always would be brother and sister. So Ludwig never spoke his +love after that, and Eloise and he were as brother and sister; +but the love of her grew always within him, and he had no thought +but of her.</p> + +<p>And now, when Eloise and Herman were wed, Ludwig feigned that +he had received a message from a rich relative in a distant part +of the kingdom bidding him come thither, and Ludwig went from the +village and was seen there no more.</p> + +<p>When the burgomaster died all his possessions went to Herman +and Eloise; and they were accounted the richest folk in the +province, and so good and charitable were they that they were +beloved by all. Meanwhile Herman had risen to greatness in the +army, for by his valorous exploits he had become a general, and +he was much endeared to the king. And Eloise and Herman lived in +a great castle in the midst of a beautiful park, and the people +came and paid them reverence there.</p> + +<p>And no one in all these years spoke of Ludwig. No one thought +of him. Ludwig was forgotten. And so the years went by.</p> + +<p>It came to pass, however, that from a far-distant province +there spread the fame of a musician so great that the king sent +for him to visit the court. No one knew the musician's name nor +whence he came, for he lived alone and would never speak of +himself; but his music was so tender and beautiful that it was +called heart-music, and he himself was called the Master. He was +old and bowed with infirmities, but his music was always of youth +and love; it touched every heart with its simplicity and pathos, +and all wondered how this old and broken man could create so much +of tenderness and sweetness on these themes.</p> + +<p>But when the king sent for the Master to come to court the +Master returned him answer: "No, I am old and feeble. To leave my +home would weary me unto death. Let me die here as I have lived +these long years, weaving my music for hearts that need my +solace."</p> + +<p>Then the people wondered. But the king was not angry; in pity +he sent the Master a purse of gold, and bade him come or not +come, as he willed. Such honor had never before been shown any +subject in the kingdom, and all the people were dumb with +amazement. But the Master gave the purse of gold to the poor of +the village wherein he lived.</p> + +<p>In those days Herman died, full of honors and years, and there +was a great lamentation in the land, for Herman was beloved by +all. And Eloise wept unceasingly and would not be comforted.</p> + +<p>On the seventh day after Herman had been buried there came to +the castle in the park an aged and bowed man who carried in his +white and trembling hands a violin. His kindly face was deeply +wrinkled, and a venerable beard swept down upon his breast. He +was weary and foot-sore, but he heeded not the words of pity +bestowed on him by all who beheld him tottering on his way. He +knocked boldly at the castle gate, and demanded to be brought +into the presence of Eloise.</p> + +<p>And Eloise said: "Bid him enter; perchance his music will +comfort my breaking heart."</p> + +<p>Then, when the old man had come into her presence, behold! he +was the Master,—ay, the Master whose fame was in every land, +whose heart-music was on every tongue.</p> + +<p>"If thou art indeed the Master," said Eloise, "let thy music +be balm to my chastened spirit."</p> + +<p>The Master said: "Ay, Eloise, I will comfort thee in thy +sorrow, and thy heart shall be stayed, and a great joy will come +to thee."</p> + +<p>Then the Master drew his bow across the strings, and lo! +forthwith there arose such harmonies as Eloise had never heard +before. Gently, persuasively, they stole upon her senses and +filled her soul with an ecstasy of peace.</p> + +<p>"Is it Herman that speaks to me?" cried Eloise. "It is his +voice I hear, and it speaks to me of love. With thy heart-music, +O Master, all the sweetness of his life comes back to comfort +me!"</p> + +<p>The Master did not pause; as he played, it seemed as if each +tender word and caress of Herman's life was stealing back on +music's pinions to soothe the wounds that death had made.</p> + +<p>"It is the song of our love-life," murmured Eloise. "How full +of memories it is—what tenderness and harmony—and oh! what +peace it brings! But tell me, Master, what means this minor +chord,—this undertone of sadness and of pathos that flows like a +deep, unfathomable current throughout it all, and wailing, weaves +itself about thy theme of love and happiness with its weird and +subtile influences?"</p> + +<p>Then the Master said: "It is that shade of sorrow and +sacrifice, O Eloise, that ever makes the picture of love more +glorious. An undertone of pathos has been <i>my</i> part in all +these years to symmetrize the love of Herman and Eloise. The song +of thy love is beautiful, and who shall say it is not beautified +by the sad undertone of Ludwig's broken heart?"</p> + +<p>"Thou art Ludwig!" cried Eloise. "Thou art Ludwig, who didst +love me, and hast come to comfort me who loved thee not!"</p> + +<p>The Master indeed was Ludwig; but when they hastened to do him +homage he heard them not, for with that last and sweetest +heart-song his head sank upon his breast, and he was dead.</p> + +<p>1885.</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><b>Fido's Little Friend</b></p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p>FIDO'S LITTLE FRIEND</p> + +<p>One morning in May Fido sat on the front porch, and he was +deep in thought. He was wondering whether the people who were +moving into the next house were as cross and unfeeling as the +people who had just moved out. He hoped they were not, for the +people who had just moved out had never treated Fido with that +respect and kindness which Fido believed he was on all occasions +entitled to.</p> + +<p>"The new-comers must be nice folks," said Fido to himself, +"for their feather-beds look big and comfortable, and their +baskets are all ample and generous,—and see, there goes a bright +gilt cage, and there is a plump yellow canary bird in it! Oh, how +glad Mrs. Tabby will be to see it,—she so dotes on dear little +canary birds!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Tabby was the old brindled cat, who was the mother of the +four cunning little kittens in the hay-mow. Fido had heard her +remark very purringly only a few days ago that she longed for a +canary bird, just to amuse her little ones and give them correct +musical ears. Honest old Fido! There was no guile in his heart, +and he never dreamed there was in all the wide world such a sin +as hypocrisy. So when Fido saw the little canary bird in the cage +he was glad for Mrs. Tabby's sake.</p> + +<p>While Fido sat on the front porch and watched the people +moving into the next house another pair of eyes peeped out of the +old hollow maple over the way. This was the red-headed +woodpecker, who had a warm, cosey nest far down in the old hollow +maple, and in the nest there were four beautiful eggs, of which +the red-headed woodpecker was very proud.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, Mr. Fido," called the red-headed woodpecker +from her high perch. "You are out bright and early to-day. And +what do you think of our new neighbors?"</p> + +<p>"Upon my word, I cannot tell," replied Fido, wagging his tail +cheerily, "for I am not acquainted with them. But I have been +watching them closely, and by to-day noon I think I shall be on +speaking terms with them,—provided, of course, they are not the +cross, unkind people our old neighbors were."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I do so hope there are no little boys in the family," +sighed the red-headed woodpecker; and then she added, with much +determination and a defiant toss of her beautiful head: "I hate +little boys!"</p> + +<p>"Why so?" inquired Fido. "As for myself, I love little boys. I +have always found them the pleasantest of companions. Why do +<i>you</i> dislike them?"</p> + +<p>"Because they are wicked," said the redheaded woodpecker. +"They climb trees and break up the nests we have worked so hard +to build, and they steal away our lovely eggs—oh, I hate little +boys!"</p> + +<p>"Good little boys don't steal birds' eggs," said Fido, "and +I'm sure I never would play with a bad boy."</p> + +<p>But the red-headed woodpecker insisted that all little boys +were wicked; and, firm in this faith, she flew away to the linden +over yonder, where, she had heard the thrush say, there lived a +family of fat white grubs. The red-headed woodpecker wanted her +breakfast, and it would have been hard to find a more palatable +morsel for her than a white fat grub.</p> + +<p>As for Fido, he sat on the front porch and watched the people +moving in. And as he watched them he thought of what the +redheaded woodpecker had said, and he wondered whether it could +be possible for little boys to be so cruel as to rob birds' +nests. As he brooded over this sad possibility, his train of +thought was interrupted by the sound of a voice that fell +pleasantly on his ears.</p> + +<p>"Goggie, goggie, goggie!" said the voice. "Tum here, 'ittle +goggie—tum here, goggie, goggie, goggie!"</p> + +<p>Fido looked whence the voice seemed to come, and he saw a tiny +figure on the other side of the fence,—a cunning baby-figure in +the yard that belonged to the house where the new neighbors were +moving in. A second glance assured Fido that the calling stranger +was a little boy not more than three years old, wearing a pretty +dress, and a broad hat that crowned his yellow hair and shaded +his big blue eyes and dimpled face. The sight was a pleasing one, +and Fido vibrated his tail,—very cautiously, however, for Fido +was not quite certain that the little boy meant his greeting for +him, and Fido's sad experiences with the old neighbors had made +him wary about scraping acquaintances too hastily.</p> + +<p>"Turn, 'ittle goggie!" persisted the prattling stranger, and, +as if to encourage Fido, the little boy stretched his chubby arms +through the fence and waved them entreatingly.</p> + +<p>Fido was convinced now, so he got up, and with many cordial +gestures of his hospitable tail, trotted down the steps and over +the lawn to the corner of the fence where the little stranger +was.</p> + +<p>"Me love oo," said the little stranger, patting Fido's honest +brown back; "me love oo, 'ittle goggie!"</p> + +<p>Fido knew that, for there were caresses in every stroke of the +dimpled hands. Fido loved the little boy, too,—yes, all at once +he loved the little boy; and he licked the dimpled hands, and +gave three short, quick barks, and wagged his tail hysterically. +So then and there began the friendship of Fido and the little +boy.</p> + +<p>Presently Fido crawled under the fence into the next yard, and +then the little boy sat down on the grass, and Fido put his +fore-paws in the little boy's lap and cocked up his ears and +looked up into the little boy's face, as much as to say, "We +shall be great friends, shall we not, little boy?"</p> + +<p>"Me love oo," said the little boy; "me wan' to tiss oo, 'ittle +goggie!"</p> + +<p>And the little boy did kiss Fido,—yes, right on Fido's cold +nose; and Fido liked to have the little boy kiss him, for it +reminded him of another little boy who used to kiss him, but who +was now so big that he was almost ashamed to play with Fido any +more.</p> + +<p>"Is oo sit, 'ittle goggie?" asked the little boy, opening his +blue eyes to their utmost capacity and looking very piteous. "Oo +nose be so told, oo mus' be sit, 'ittle goggie!"</p> + +<p>But no, Fido was not sick, even though his nose <i>was</i> +cold. Oh, no; he romped and played all that morning in the cool, +green grass with the little boy; and the red-headed woodpecker, +clinging to the bark on the hickory-tree, laughed at their merry +antics till her sides ached and her beautiful head turned fairly +livid. Then, at last, the little boy's mamma came out of the +house and told him he had played long enough; and neither the +red-headed woodpecker nor Fido saw him again that day.</p> + +<p>But the next morning the little boy toddled down to the +fence-corner, bright and early, and called, "Goggie! goggie! +goggie!" so loudly, that Fido heard him in the wood-shed, where +he was holding a morning chat with Mrs. Tabby. Fido hastened to +answer the call; the way he spun out of the wood-shed and down +the gravel walk and around the corner of the house was a +marvel.</p> + +<p>"Mamma says oo dot f'eas, 'ittle goggie," said the little boy. +"<i>Has</i> oo dot f'eas?"</p> + +<p>Fido looked crestfallen, for could Fido have spoken he would +have confessed that he indeed <i>was</i> afflicted with +fleas,—not with very many fleas, but just enough to interrupt +his slumbers and his meditations at the most inopportune moments. +And the little boy's guileless impeachment set Fido to feeling +creepy-crawly all of a sudden, and without any further ado Fido +turned deftly in his tracks, twisted his head back toward his +tail, and by means of several well-directed bites and plunges +gave the malicious Bedouins thereabouts located timely warning to +behave themselves. The little boy thought this performance very +funny, and he laughed heartily. But Fido looked crestfallen.</p> + +<p>Oh, what play and happiness they had that day; how the green +grass kissed their feet, and how the smell of clover came with +the springtime breezes from the meadow yonder! The red-headed +woodpecker heard them at play, and she clambered out of the +hollow maple and dodged hither and thither as if she, too, shared +their merriment. Yes, and the yellow thistle-bird, whose nest was +in the blooming lilac-bush, came and perched in the pear-tree and +sang a little song about the dear little eggs in her cunning +home. And there was a flower in the fence-corner,—a sweet, +modest flower that no human eyes but the little boy's had ever +seen,—and she sang a little song, too, a song about the kind old +Mother Earth and the pretty sunbeams, the gentle rain and the +droning bees. Why, the little boy had never known anything half +so beautiful, and Fido,—he, too, was delighted beyond all +telling. If the whole truth must be told, Fido had such an +exciting and bewildering romp that day that when night came, and +he lay asleep on the kitchen floor, he dreamed he was tumbling in +the green grass with the little boy, and he tossed and barked and +whined so in his sleep that the hired man had to get up in the +night and put him out of doors.</p> + +<p>Down in the pasture at the end of the lane lived an old +woodchuck. Last year the freshet had driven him from his +childhood's home in the corn-field by the brook, and now he +resided in a snug hole in the pasture. During their rambles one +day, Fido and his little boy friend had come to the pasture, and +found the old woodchuck sitting upright at the entrance to his +hole.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm not going to hurt you, old Mr. Woodchuck," said Fido. +"I have too much respect for your gray hairs."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," replied the woodchuck, sarcastically, "but I'm +not afraid of any bench-legged fyste that ever walked. It was +only last week that I whipped Deacon Skinner's yellow mastiff, +and I calc'late I can trounce you, you ridiculous little brown +cur!"</p> + +<p>The little boy did not hear this badinage. When he saw the +woodchuck solemnly perched at the entrance to his hole he was +simply delighted.</p> + +<p>"Oh, see!" cried the little boy, stretching out his fat arms +and running toward the woodchuck,—"oh, see,—'nuzzer 'ittle +goggie! Turn here, 'ittle goggie,—me love oo!"</p> + +<p>But the old woodchuck was a shy creature, and not knowing what +guile the little boy's cordial greeting might mask, the old +woodchuck discreetly disappeared in his hole, much to the little +boy's amazement.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, the old woodchuck, the little boy, and Fido +became fast friends in time, and almost every day they visited +together in the pasture. The old woodchuck—hoary and scarred +veteran that he was—had wonderful stories to tell,—stories of +marvellous adventures, of narrow escapes, of battles with cruel +dogs, and of thrilling experiences that were altogether new to +his wondering listeners. Meanwhile the red-headed woodpecker's +eggs in the hollow maple had hatched, and the proud mother had +great tales to tell of her baby birds,—of how beautiful and +knowing they were, and of what good, noble birds they were going +to be when they grew up. The yellow-bird, too, had four fuzzy +little babies in her nest in the lilac-bush, and every now and +then she came to sing to the little boy and Fido of her darlings. +Then, when the little boy and Fido were tired with play, they +would sit in the rowen near the fence-corner and hear the flower +tell a story the dew had brought fresh from the stars the night +before. They all loved each other,—the little boy, Fido, the old +woodchuck, the redheaded woodpecker, the yellow-bird, and the +flower,—yes, all through the days of spring and all through the +summer time they loved each other in their own honest, sweet, +simple way.</p> + +<p>But one morning Fido sat on the front porch and wondered why +the little boy had not come to the fence-corner and called to +him. The sun was high, the men had been long gone to the harvest +fields, and the heat of the early autumn day had driven the birds +to the thickest foliage of the trees. Fido could not understand +why the little boy did not come; he felt, oh' so lonesome, and he +yearned for the sound of a little voice calling "Goggie, goggie, +goggie."</p> + +<p>The red-headed woodpecker could not explain it, nor could the +yellow-bird. Fido trotted leisurely down to the fence-corner and +asked the flower if she had seen the little boy that morning. But +no, the flower had not laid eyes on the little boy, and she could +only shake her head doubtfully when Fido asked her what it all +meant. At last in desperation Fido braced himself for an heroic +solution of the mystery, and as loudly as ever he could, he +barked three times,—in the hope, you know, that the little boy +would hear his call and come. But the little boy did not +come.</p> + +<p>Then Fido trotted sadly down the lane to the pasture to talk +with the old woodchuck about this strange thing. The old +woodchuck saw him coming and ambled out to meet him.</p> + +<p>"But where is our little boy?" asked the old woodchuck.</p> + +<p>"I do not know," said Fido. "I waited for him and called to +him again and again, but he never came."</p> + +<p>Ah, those were sorry days for the little boy's friends, and +sorriest for Fido. Poor, honest Fido, how lonesome he was and how +he moped about! How each sudden sound, how each footfall, +startled him! How he sat all those days upon the front +door-stoop, with his eyes fixed on the fence-corner and his rough +brown ears cocked up as if he expected each moment to see two +chubby arms stretched out toward him and to hear a baby voice +calling "Goggie, goggie, goggie."</p> + +<p>Once only they saw him,—Fido, the flower, and the others. It +was one day when Fido had called louder than usual. They saw a +little figure in a night-dress come to an upper window and lean +his arms out. They saw it was the little boy, and, oh! how pale +and ill he looked. But his yellow hair was as glorious as ever, +and the dimples came back with the smile that lighted his thin +little face when he saw Fido; and he leaned on the window +casement and waved his baby hands feebly, and cried: "Goggie! +goggie!" till Fido saw the little boy's mother come and take him +from the window.</p> + +<p>One morning Fido came to the fence-corner—how very lonely +that spot seemed now—and he talked with the flower and the +woodpecker; and the yellow-bird came, too, and they all talked of +the little boy. And at that very moment the old woodchuck reared +his hoary head by the hole in the pasture, and he looked this way +and that and wondered why the little boy never came any more.</p> + +<p>"Suppose," said Fido to the yellow-bird,—"suppose you fly to +the window 'way up there and see what the little boy is doing. +Sing him one of your pretty songs, and tell him we are lonesome +without him; that we are waiting for him in the old +fence-corner."</p> + +<p>Then the yellow-bird did as Fido asked,—she flew to the +window where they had once seen the little boy, and alighting +upon the sill, she peered into the room. In another moment she +was back on the bush at Fido's side.</p> + +<p>"He is asleep," said the yellow-bird.</p> + +<p>"Asleep!" cried Fido.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the yellow-bird, "he is fast asleep. I think he +must be dreaming a beautiful dream, for I could see a smile on +his face, and his little hands were folded on his bosom. There +were flowers all about him, and but for their sweet voices the +chamber would have been very still."</p> + +<p>"Come, let us wake him," said Fido; "let us all call to him at +once. Then perhaps he will hear us and awaken and answer; perhaps +he will come."</p> + +<p>So they all called in chorus,—Fido and the other honest +friends. They called so loudly that the still air of that autumn +morning was strangely startled, and the old woodchuck in the +pasture 'way off yonder heard the echoes and wondered.</p> + +<p>"Little boy! little boy!" they called, "why are you sleeping? +Why are you sleeping, little boy?"</p> + +<p>Call on, dear voices! but the little boy will never hear. The +dimpled hands that caressed you are indeed folded upon his +breast; the lips that kissed your honest faces are sealed; the +baby voice that sang your playtime songs with you is hushed, and +all about him are the fragrance and the beauty of flowers. Call +on, O honest friends! but he shall never hear your calling; for, +as if he were aweary of the love and play and sunshine that were +all he knew of earth, our darling is asleep forever.</p> + +<p>1885.</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><b>The Old Man</b></p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p>THE OLD MAN</p> + +<p>I called him the Old Man, but he wuzn't an old man; he wuz a +little boy—our fust one; 'nd his gran'ma, who'd had a heap of +experience in sich matters, allowed that he wuz for looks as +likely a child as she'd ever clapped eyes on. Bein' our fust, we +sot our hearts on him, and Lizzie named him Willie, for that wuz +the name she liked best, havin' had a brother Willyum killed in +the war. But I never called him anything but the Old Man, and +that name seemed to fit him, for he wuz one of your sollum +babies,—alwuz thinkin' 'nd thinkin' 'nd thinkin', like he wuz a +jedge, and when he laffed it wuzn't like other children's laffs, +it wuz so sad-like.</p> + +<p>Lizzie 'nd I made it up between us that when the Old Man +growed up we'd send him to collige 'nd give him a lib'ril +edication, no matter though we had to sell the farm to do it. But +we never c'u'd exactly agree as to what we was goin' to make of +him; Lizzie havin' her heart sot on his bein' a preacher like his +gran'pa Baker, and I wantin' him to be a lawyer 'nd git rich +out'n the corporations, like his uncle Wilson Barlow. So we never +come to no definite conclusion as to what the Old Man wuz goin' +to be bime by; but while we wuz thinkin' 'nd debatin' the Old Man +kep' growin' 'nd growin', and all the time he wuz as serious 'nd +sollum as a jedge.</p> + +<p>Lizzie got jest wrapped up in that boy; toted him round +ever'where 'nd never let on like it made her tired,—powerful big +'nd hearty child too, but heft warn't nothin' 'longside of +Lizzie's love for the Old Man. When he caught the measles from +Sairy Baxter's baby Lizzie sot up day 'nd night till he wuz well, +holdin' his hands 'nd singin' songs to him, 'nd cryin' herse'f +almost to death because she dassent give him cold water to drink +when he called f'r it. As for me, <i>my</i> heart wuz wrapped up +in the Old Man, <i>too</i>, but, bein' a man, it wuzn't for me to +show it like Lizzie, bein' a woman; and now that the Old Man +is—wall, now that he has gone, it wouldn't do to let on how much +I sot by him, for that would make Lizzie feel all the wuss.</p> + +<p>Sometimes, when I think of it, it makes me sorry that I didn't +show the Old Man some way how much I wuz wrapped up in him. Used +to hold him in my lap 'nd make faces for him 'nd alder whistles +'nd things; sometimes I'd kiss him on his rosy cheek, when nobody +wuz lookin'; oncet I tried to sing him a song, but it made him +cry, 'nd I never tried my hand at singin' again. But, somehow, +the Old Man didn't take to me like he took to his mother: would +climb down outern my lap to git where Lizzie wuz; would hang on +to her gownd, no matter what she wuz doin',—whether she wuz +makin' bread, or sewin', or puttin' up pickles, it wuz alwuz the +same to the Old Man; he wuzn't happy unless he wuz right there, +clost beside his mother.</p> + +<p>'Most all boys, as I've heern tell, is proud to be round with +their father, doin' what <i>he</i> does 'nd wearin' the kind of +clothes <i>he</i> wears. But the Old Man wuz different; he +allowed that his mother was his best friend, 'nd the way he stuck +to her—wall, it has alwuz been a great comfort to Lizzie to +recollect it.</p> + +<p>The Old Man had a kind of confidin' way with his mother. Every +oncet in a while, when he'd be playin' by hisself in the front +room, he'd call out, "Mudder, mudder;" and no matter where Lizzie +wuz,—in the kitchen, or in the wood-shed, or in the yard, she'd +answer: "What is it, darlin'?" Then the Old Man 'u'd say: "Turn +here, mudder, I wanter tell you sumfin'." Never could find out +what the Old Man wanted to tell Lizzie; like 's not he didn't +wanter tell her nothin'; maybe he wuz lonesome 'nd jest wanted to +feel that Lizzie wuz round. But that didn't make no diff'rence; +it wuz all the same to Lizzie. No matter where she wuz or what +she wuz a-doin', jest as soon as the Old Man told her he wanted +to tell her somethin' she dropped ever'thing else 'nd went +straight to him. Then the Old Man would laff one of his sollum, +sad-like laffs, 'nd put his arms round Lizzie's neck 'nd +whisper—or pertend to whisper—somethin' in her ear, 'nd Lizzie +would laff 'nd say, "Oh, what a nice secret we have atween us!" +and then she would kiss the Old Man 'nd go back to her work.</p> + +<p>Time changes all things,—all things but memory, nothin' can +change <i>that</i>. Seems like it was only yesterday or the day +before that I heern the Old Man callin', "Mudder, mudder, I +wanter tell you sumfin'," and that I seen him put his arms around +her neck 'nd whisper softly to her.</p> + +<p>It had been an open winter, 'nd there wuz fever all around us. +The Baxters lost their little girl, and Homer Thompson's children +had all been taken down. Ev'ry night 'nd mornin' we prayed God to +save our darlin'; but one evenin' when I come up from the +wood-lot, the Old Man wuz restless 'nd his face wuz hot 'nd he +talked in his sleep. Maybe you've been through it +yourself,—maybe you've tended a child that's down with the +fever; if so, maybe you know what we went through, Lizzie 'nd me. +The doctor shook his head one night when he come to see the Old +Man; we knew what that meant. I went out-doors,—I couldn't stand +it in the room there, with the Old Man seein' 'nd talkin' about +things that the fever made him see. I wuz too big a coward to +stay 'nd help his mother to bear up; so I went out-doors 'nd +brung in wood,—brung in wood enough to last all spring,—and +then I sat down alone by the kitchen fire 'nd heard the clock +tick 'nd watched the shadders flicker through the room.</p> + +<p>I remember Lizzie's comin' to me and sayin': "He's breathin' +strange-like, 'nd his little feet is cold as ice." Then I went +into the front chamber where he lay. The day wuz breakin'; the +cattle wuz lowin' outside; a beam of light come through the +winder and fell on the Old Man's face,—perhaps it wuz the +summons for which he waited and which shall some time come to me +'nd you. Leastwise the Old Man roused from his sleep 'nd opened +up his big blue eyes. It wuzn't me he wanted to see.</p> + +<p>"Mudder! mudder!" cried the Old Man, but his voice warn't +strong 'nd clear like it used to be. "Mudder, where <i>be</i> +you, mudder?"</p> + +<p>Then, breshin' by me, Lizzie caught the Old Man up 'nd held +him in her arms, like she had done a thousand times before.</p> + +<p>"What is it, darlin'? <i>Here</i> I be," says Lizzie.</p> + +<p>"Tum here," says the Old Man,—"tum here; I wanter tell you +sumfin'."</p> + +<p>The Old Man went to reach his arms around her neck 'nd whisper +in her ear. But his arms fell limp and helpless-like, 'nd the Old +Man's curly head drooped on his mother's breast.</p> + +<p>1889.</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><b>Bill, the Lokil Editor</b></p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p>BILL, THE LOKIL EDITOR</p> + +<p>Bill wuz alluz fond uv children 'nd birds 'nd flowers. Ain't +it kind o' curious how sometimes we find a great, big, awkward +man who loves sech things? Bill had the biggest feet in the +township, but I'll bet my wallet that he never trod on a violet +in all his life. Bill never took no slack from enny man that wuz +sober, but the children made him play with 'em, and he'd set for +hours a-watchin' the yaller-hammer buildin' her nest in the old +cottonwood.</p> + +<p>Now I ain't defendin' Bill; I'm jest tellin' the truth about +him. Nothink I kin say one way or t'other is goin' to make enny +difference now; Bill's dead 'nd buried, 'nd the folks is +discussin' him 'nd wond'rin' whether his immortal soul is all +right. Sometimes I <i>hev</i> worried 'bout Bill, but I don't +worry 'bout him no more. Uv course Bill had his faults,—I never +liked that drinkin' business uv his'n, yet I allow that Bill got +more good out'n likker, and likker got more good out'n Bill, than +I ever see before or sence. It warn't when the likker wuz in Bill +that Bill wuz at his best, but when he hed been on to one uv his +bats 'nd had drunk himself sick 'nd wuz comin' out uv the other +end of the bat, then Bill wuz one uv the meekest 'nd properest +critters you ever seen. An' po'try? Some uv the most beautiful +po'try I ever read wuz writ by Bill when he wuz recoverin' +himself out'n one uv them bats. Seemed like it kind uv exalted +an' purified Bill's nachur to git drunk an' git over it. Bill +c'u'd drink more likker 'nd be sorrier for it than any other man +in seven States. There never wuz a more penitent feller than he +wuz when he wuz soberin'. The trubble with Bill seemed to be that +his conscience didn't come on watch quite of'n enuff.</p> + +<p>It'll be ten years come nex' spring sence Bill showed up here. +I don't know whar he come from; seemed like he didn't want to +talk about his past. I allers suspicioned that he had seen +trubble—maybe, sorrer. I reecollect that one time he got a +telegraph,—Mr. Ivins told me 'bout it afterwards,—and when he +read it he put his hands up to his face 'nd groaned, like. That +day he got full uv likker 'nd he kep' full uv likker for a week; +but when he come round all right he wrote a pome for the paper, +'nd the name uv the pome wuz "Mary," but whether Mary wuz his +sister or his wife or an old sweetheart uv his'n I never knew. +But it looked from the pome like she wuz dead 'nd that he loved +her.</p> + +<p>Bill wuz the best lokil the paper ever had. He didn't hustle +around much, but he had a kind er pleasin' way uv dishin' things +up. He c'u'd be mighty comical when he sot out to be, but his +best holt was serious pieces. Nobody could beat Bill writing +obituaries. When old Mose Holbrook wuz dyin' the minister sez to +him: "Mr. Holbrook, you seem to be sorry that you're passin' away +to a better land?"</p> + +<p>"Wall, no; not exactly <i>that</i>," sez Mose, "but to be +frank with you, I <i>hev</i> jest one regret in connection with +this affair."</p> + +<p>"What's that?" asked the minister.</p> + +<p>"I can't help feelin' sorry," sez Mose, "that I ain't goin' to +hev the pleasure uv readin' what Bill Newton sez about me in the +paper. I know it'll be sumthin' uncommon fine; I loant him two +dollars a year ago last fall."</p> + +<p>The Higginses lost a darned good friend when Bill died. Bill +wrote a pome 'bout their old dog Towze when he wuz run over by +Watkins's hay-wagon seven years ago. I'll bet that pome is in +every scrap-book in the county. You couldn't read that pome +without cryin',—why, that pome w'u'd hev brought a dew out on +the desert uv Sary. Old Tim Hubbard, the meanest man in the +State, borrered a paper to read the pome, and he wuz so 'fected +by it that he never borrered anuther paper as long as he lived. I +don't more'n half reckon, though, that the Higginses appreciated +what Bill had done for 'em. I never heerd uv their givin' him +anythink more'n a basket uv greenin' apples, and Bill wrote a +piece 'bout the apples nex' day.</p> + +<p>But Bill wuz at his best when he wrote things about the +children,—about the little ones that died, I mean. Seemed like +Bill had a way of his own of sayin' things that wuz beautiful 'nd +tender; he said he loved the children because they wuz innocent, +and I reckon—yes, I know he did, for the pomes he writ about 'em +showed he did.</p> + +<p>When our little Alice died I started out for Mr. Miller's; he +wuz the undertaker. The night wuz powerful dark, 'nd it wuz all +the darker to me, because seemed like all the light hed gone out +in my life. Down near the bridge I met Bill; he weaved round in +the road, for he wuz in likker.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Mr. Baker," sez he, "whar be you goin' this time o' +night?"</p> + +<p>"Bill," sez I, "I'm goin' on the saddest errand uv my +life."</p> + +<p>"What d' ye mean?" sez he, comin' up to me as straight as he +c'u'd.</p> + +<p>"Why, Bill," sez I, "our little girl—my little girl—Allie, +you know—she's dead."</p> + +<p>I hoarsed up so I couldn't say much more. And Bill didn't say +nothink at all; he jest reached me his hand, and he took my hand +and seemed like in that grasp his heart spoke many words of +comfort to mine. And nex' day he had a piece in the paper about +our little girl; we cut it out and put it in the big Bible in the +front room. Sometimes when we get to fussin', Martha goes 'nd +gets that bit of paper 'nd reads it to me; then us two kind uv +cry to ourselves, 'nd we make it up between us for the dead +child's sake.</p> + +<p>Well, you kin see how it wuz that so many uv us liked Bill; he +had soothed our hearts,—there's nothin' like sympathy after all. +Bill's po'try hed heart in it; it didn't surprise you or scare +you; it jest got down in under your vest, 'nd before you knew it +you wuz all choked up. I know all about your fashionable po'try +and your famous potes,—Martha took Godey's for a year. Folks +that live in the city can't write po'try,—not the real, genuine +article. To write po'try, as I figure it, the heart must have +somethin' to feed on; you can't get that somethin' whar there +ain't trees 'nd grass 'nd birds 'nd flowers. Bill loved these +things, and he fed his heart on 'em, and that's why his po'try +wuz so much better than anybody else's.</p> + +<p>I ain't worryin' much about Bill now; I take it that +everythink is for the best. When they told me that Bill died in a +drunken fit I felt that his end oughter have come some other +way,—he wuz too good a man for that. But maybe, after all, it +was ordered for the best. Jist imagine Bill a-standin' up for +jedgment; jist imagine that poor, sorrowful, shiverin' critter +waitin' for his turn to come. Pictur', if you can, how full of +penitence he is, 'nd how full uv po'try 'nd gentleness 'nd +misery. The Lord ain't a-goin' to be too hard on that poor +wretch. Of course we can't comprehend Divine mercy; we only know +that it is full of compassion,—a compassion infinitely tenderer +and sweeter than ours. And the more I think on 't, the more I +reckon that Bill will plead to win that mercy, for, like as not, +the little ones—my Allie with the rest—will run to him when +they see him in his trubble and will hold his tremblin' hands 'nd +twine their arms about him, and plead, with him, for +compassion.</p> + +<p>You've seen an old sycamore that the lightnin' has struck; the +ivy has reached up its vines 'nd spread 'em all around it 'nd +over it, coverin' its scars 'nd splintered branches with a velvet +green 'nd fillin' the air with fragrance. You've seen this thing +and you know that it is beautiful.</p> + +<p>That's Bill, perhaps, as he stands up f'r jedgment,—a +miserable, tremblin', 'nd unworthy thing, perhaps, but twined +about, all over, with singin' and pleadin' little children—and +that is pleasin' in God's sight, I know.</p> + +<p>What would you—what would <i>I</i>—say, if we wuz settin' in +jedgment then?</p> + +<p>Why, we'd jest kind uv bresh the moisture from our eyes 'nd +say: "Mister recordin' angel, you may nolly pros this case 'nd +perseed with the docket."</p> + +<p>1888.</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><b>The Little Yaller Baby</b></p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p>THE LITTLE YALLER BABY</p> + +<p>I hev allus hed a good opinion uv the wimmin folks. I don't +look at 'em as some people do; uv course they're a +necessity—just as men are. Uv course if there warn't no wimmin +folks there wouldn't be no men folks—leastwise that's what the +medikil books say. But I never wuz much on discussin' humin +economy; what I hev allus thought 'nd said wuz that wimmin folks +wuz a kind uv luxury, 'nd the best kind, too. Maybe it's because +I hain't hed much to do with 'em that I'm sot on 'em. Never did +get real well acquainted with more'n three or four uv 'em in all +my life; seemed like it wuz meant that I shouldn't hev 'em round +me as most men hev. Mother died when I wuz a little tyke, an' +Aunt Mary raised me till I wuz big enuff to make my own livin'. +Down here in the Southwest, you see, most uv the girls is boys; +there ain't none uv them civilizin' influences folks talk +uv,—nothin' but flowers 'nd birds 'nd such things as poetry +tells about. So I kind uv growed up with the curi's notion that +wimmin folks wuz too good for our part uv the country, 'nd I +hevn't quite got that notion out'n my head yet.</p> + +<p>One time—wall, I reckon 't wuz about four years ago—I got a +letter frum ol' Col. Sibley to come up to Saint Louey 'nd consult +with him 'bout some stock int'rests we hed together. Railroad +travellin' wuz no new thing to me. I hed been prutty +prosperous,—hed got past hevin' to ride in a caboose 'nd git out +at every stop to punch up the steers. Hed money in the Hoost'n +bank 'nd used to go to Tchicargo oncet a year; hed met Fill Armer +'nd shook hands with him, 'nd oncet the city papers hed a colume +article about my bein' a millionnaire; uv course 't warn't so, +but a feller kind uv likes that sort uv thing, you know.</p> + +<p>The mornin' after I got that letter from Col. Sibley I started +for Saint Louey. I took a bunk in the Pullman car, like I hed +been doin' for six years past; 'nd I reckon the other folks must +hev thought I wuz a heap uv a man, for every haff-hour I give the +nigger ha'f a dollar to bresh me off. The car wuz full uv +people,—rich people, too, I reckon, for they wore good clo'es +'nd criticized the scenery. Jest across frum me there wuz a lady +with a big, fat baby,—the pruttiest woman I hed seen in a month +uv Sundays; and the baby! why, doggone my skin, when I wuzn't +payin' money to the nigger, darned if I didn't set there watchin' +the big, fat little cuss, like he wuz the only baby I ever seen. +I ain't much of a hand at babies, 'cause I hain't seen many uv +'em, 'nd when it comes to handlin' 'em—why, that would break me +all up, 'nd like 's not 't would break the baby all up too. But +it has allus been my notion that nex' to the wimmin folks babies +wuz jest about the nicest things on earth. So the more I looked +at that big, fat little baby settin' in its mother's lap 'cross +the way, the more I wanted to look; seemed like I wuz hoodooed by +the little tyke; 'nd the first thing I knew there wuz water in my +eyes; don't know why it is, but it allus makes me kind ur slop +over to set 'nd watch a baby cooin' 'nd playin' in its mother's +lap.</p> + +<p>"Look a' hyar, Sam," says I to the nigger, "come hyar 'nd +bresh me off ag'in! Why ain't you 'tendin' to bizness?"</p> + +<p>But it didn't do no good 't all; pertendin' to be cross with +the nigger might fool the other folks in the car, but it didn't +fool me. I wuz dead stuck on that baby—gol durn his pictur'! And +there the little tyke set in its mother's lap, doublin' up its +fists 'nd tryin' to swaller 'em, 'nd talkin' like to its mother +in a lingo I couldn't understan', but which the mother could, for +she talked back to the baby in a soothin' lingo which I couldn't +understand, but which I liked to hear, 'nd she kissed the baby +'nd stroked its hair 'nd petted it like wimmin do.</p> + +<p>It made me mad to hear them other folks in the car criticizin' +the scenery 'nd things. A man's in mighty poor bizness, anyhow, +to be lookin' at scenery when there's a woman in sight,—a woman +<i>and</i> a baby!</p> + +<p>Prutty soon—oh, maybe in a hour or two—the baby began to +fret 'nd worrit. Seemed to me like the little critter wuz hungry. +Knowin' that there wuz no eatin'-house this side of Bowieville, I +jest called the train-boy, 'nd says I to him: "Hev you got any +victuals that will do for a baby?"</p> + +<p>"How is oranges 'nd bananas?" says he.</p> + +<p>"That ought to do," says I. "Jist do up a dozen uv your best +oranges 'nd a dozen uv your best bananas 'nd take 'em over to +that baby with my complerments."</p> + +<p>But before he could do it, the lady hed laid the baby on one +uv her arms 'nd hed spread a shawl over its head 'nd over her +shoulder, 'nd all uv a suddint the baby quit worritin' and seemed +like he hed gone to sleep.</p> + +<p>When we got to York Crossin' I looked out'n the winder 'nd +seen some men carryin' a long pine box up towards the +baggage-car. Seein' their hats off, I knew there wuz a dead body +in the box, 'nd I couldn't help feelin' sorry for the poor +creetur that hed died in that lonely place uv York Crossin'; but +I mought hev felt a heap sorrier for the creeters that hed to +live there, for I'll allow that York Crossin' is a <i>leetle</i> +the durnedest lonesomest place I ever seen.</p> + +<p>Well, just afore the train started ag'in, who should come into +the car but Bill Woodson, and he wuz lookin' powerful tough. Bill +herded cattle for me three winters, but hed moved away when he +married one uv the waiter-girls at Spooner's Hotel at +Hoost'n.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Bill," says I; "what air you totin' so kind uv +keerful-like in your arms there?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I've got the baby," says he; 'nd as he said it the tears +come up into his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Your own baby, Bill?" says I.</p> + +<p>"Yes," says he. "Nellie took sick uv the janders a fortnight +ago, 'nd—'nd she died, 'nd I'm takin' her body up to Texarkany +to bury. She lived there, you know, 'nd I'm goin' to leave the +baby there with its gran'ma."</p> + +<p>Poor Bill! it wuz his wife that the men were carryin' in that +pine box to the baggage-car.</p> + +<p>"Likely-lookin'baby, Bill," says I, cheerful like. "Perfect +pictur' uv its mother; kind uv favors you round the lower part uv +the face, tho'."</p> + +<p>I said this to make Bill feel happier. If I'd told the truth, +I'd 've said the baby wuz a sickly, yaller-lookin' little thing, +for so it wuz; looked haff-starved, too. Couldn't help comparin' +it with that big, fat baby in its mother's arms over the way.</p> + +<p>"Bill," says I, "here's a ten-dollar note for the baby, 'nd +God bless you!"</p> + +<p>"Thank ye, Mr. Goodhue," says he, 'nd he choked all up as he +moved off with that yaller little baby in his arms. It warn't +very fur up the road he wuz goin', 'nd he found a seat in one uv +the front cars.</p> + +<p>But along about an hour after that back come Bill, moseyin' +through the car like he wuz huntin' for somebody. Seemed like he +wuz in trubble and wuz huntin' for a friend.</p> + +<p>"Anything I kin do for you, Bill?" says I, but he didn't make +no answer. All uv a suddint he sot his eyes on the prutty lady +that had the fat baby sleepin' in her arms, 'nd he made a break +for her like he wuz crazy. He took off his hat 'nd bent down over +her 'nd said somethin' none uv the rest uv us could hear. The +lady kind uv started like she wuz frightened, 'nd then she looked +up at Bill 'nd looked him right square in the countenance. She +saw a tall, ganglin', awkward man, with long yaller hair 'nd +frowzy beard, 'nd she saw that he wuz tremblin' 'nd hed tears in +his eyes. She looked down at the fat baby in her arms, 'nd then +she looked out'n the winder at the great stretch uv prairie land, +'nd seemed like she wuz lookin' off further 'n the rest uv us +could see. Then at last she turnt around 'nd said, "Yes," to +Bill, 'nd Bill went off into the front car ag'in.</p> + +<p>None uv the rest uv us knew what all this meant, but in a +minnit Bill come back with his little yaller baby in his arms, +'nd you never heerd a baby squall 'nd carry on like that baby wuz +squallin' 'nd carryin' on. Fact is, the little yaller baby wuz +hungry, hungrier 'n a wolf, 'nd there wuz its mother dead in the +car up ahead 'nd its gran'ma a good piece up the road. What did +the lady over the way do but lay her own sleepin' baby down on +the seat beside her 'nd take Bill's little yaller baby 'nd hold +it on one arm 'nd cover up its head 'nd her shoulder with a +shawl, jist like she had done with the fat baby not long afore. +Bill never looked at her; he took off his hat and held it in his +hand, 'nd turnt around 'nd stood guard over that mother, 'nd I +reckon that ef any man bed darst to look that way jist then Bill +would 've cut his heart out.</p> + +<p>The little yaller baby didn't cry very long. Seemed like it +knowed there wuz a mother holdin' it,—not its own mother, but a +woman whose life hed been hallowed by God's blessin' with the +love 'nd the purity 'nd the sanctity uv motherhood.</p> + +<p>Why, I wouldn't hev swapped that sight uv Bill an' them two +babies 'nd that sweet woman for all the cattle in Texas! It jest +made me know that what I'd allus thought uv wimmin was gospel +truth. God bless that lady! I say, wherever she is to-day, 'nd +God bless all wimmin folks, for they're all alike in their +unselfishness 'nd gentleness 'nd love!</p> + +<p>Bill said, "God bless ye!" too, when she handed him back his +poor little yaller baby. The little creeter wuz fast asleep, 'nd +Bill darsent speak very loud for fear he'd wake it up. But his +heart wuz 'way up in his mouth when he says "God bless ye!" to +that dear lady; 'nd then he added, like he wanted to let her know +that he meant to pay her back when he could: "I'll do the same +for you some time, marm, if I kin."</p> + +<p>1888.</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><b>The Cyclopeedy</b></p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p>THE CYCLOPEEDY</p> + +<p>Havin' lived next door to the Hobart place f'r goin' on thirty +years, I calc'late that I know jest about ez much about the case +ez anybody else now on airth, exceptin' perhaps it's ol' Jedge +Baker, and he's so plaguy old 'nd so powerful feeble that +<i>he</i> don't know nothin'.</p> + +<p>It seems that in the spring uv '47—the year that Cy Watson's +oldest boy wuz drownded in West River—there come along a +book-agent sellin' volyumes 'nd tracks f'r the diffusion uv +knowledge, 'nd havin' got the recommend of the minister 'nd uv +the selectmen, he done an all-fired big business in our part uv +the county. His name wuz Lemuel Higgins, 'nd he wuz ez likely a +talker ez I ever heerd, barrin' Lawyer Conkey, 'nd everybody +allowed that when Conkey wuz round he talked so fast that the +town pump 'u'd have to be greased every twenty minutes.</p> + +<p>One of the first uv our folks that this Lemuel Higgins struck +wuz Leander Hobart. Leander had jest marr'd one uv the Peasley +girls, 'nd had moved into the old homestead on the Plainville +road,—old Deacon Hobart havin' give up the place to him, the +other boys havin' moved out West (like a lot o' darned fools that +they wuz!). Leander wuz feelin' his oats jest about this time, +'nd nuthin' wuz too good f'r him.</p> + +<p>"Hattie," sez he, "I guess I'll have to lay in a few books f'r +readin' in the winter time, 'nd I've half a notion to subscribe +f'r a cyclopeedy. Mr. Higgins here says they're invalerable in a +family, and that we orter have 'em, bein' as how we're likely to +have the fam'ly bime by."</p> + +<p>"Lor's sakes, Leander, how you talk!" sez Hattie, blushin' all +over, ez brides allers does to heern tell uv sich things.</p> + +<p>Waal, to make a long story short, Leander bargained with Mr. +Higgins for a set uv them cyclopeedies, 'nd he signed his name to +a long printed paper that showed how he agreed to take a +cyclopeedy oncet in so often, which wuz to be ez often ez a new +one uv the volyumes wuz printed. A cyclopeedy isn't printed all +at oncet, because that would make it cost too much; consekently +the man that gets it up has it strung along fur apart, so as to +hit folks oncet every year or two, and gin'rally about harvest +time. So Leander kind uv liked the idee, and he signed the +printed paper 'nd made his affidavit to it afore Jedge +Warner.</p> + +<p>The fust volyume of the cyclopeedy stood on a shelf in the old +seckertary in the settin'-room about four months before they had +any use f'r it. One night Squire Turner's son come over to visit +Leander 'nd Hattie, and they got to talkin' about apples, 'nd the +sort uv apples that wuz the best. Leander allowed that the Rhode +Island greenin' wuz the best, but Hattie and the Turner boy stuck +up f'r the Roxbury russet, until at last a happy idee struck +Leander, and sez he: "We'll leave it to the cyclopeedy, b'gosh! +Whichever one the cyclopeedy sez is the best will settle it."</p> + +<p>"But you can't find out nothin' 'bout Roxbury russets nor +Rhode Island greenin's in <i>our</i> cyclopeedy," sez Hattie.</p> + +<p>"Why not, I'd like to know?" sez Leander, kind uv indignant +like.</p> + +<p>"'Cause ours hain't got down to the R yet," sez Hattie. "All +ours tells about is things beginnin' with A."</p> + +<p>"Well, ain't we talkin' about Apples?" sez Leander. "You +aggervate me terrible, Hattie, by insistin' on knowin' what you +don't know nothin' 'bout."</p> + +<p>Leander went to the seckertary 'nd took down the cyclopeedy +'nd hunted all through it f'r Apples, but all he could find wuz +"Apple—See Pomology."</p> + +<p>"How in thunder kin I see Pomology," sez Leander, "when there +ain't no Pomology to see? Gol durn a cyclopeedy, anyhow!"</p> + +<p>And he put the volyume back onto the shelf 'nd never sot eyes +into it ag'in.</p> + +<p>That's the way the thing run f'r years 'nd years. Leander +would 've gin up the plaguy bargain, but he couldn't; he had +signed a printed paper 'nd had swore to it afore a justice of the +peace. Higgins would have had the law on him if he had throwed up +the trade.</p> + +<p>The most aggervatin' feature uv it all wuz that a new one uv +them cussid cyclopeedies wuz allus sure to show up at the wrong +time,—when Leander wuz hard up or had jest been afflicted some +way or other. His barn burnt down two nights afore the volyume +containin' the letter B arrived, and Leander needed all his chink +to pay f'r lumber, but Higgins sot back on that affidavit and +defied the life out uv him.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, Leander," sez his wife, soothin' like, "it's a +good book to have in the house, anyhow, now that we've got a +baby."</p> + +<p>"That's so," sez Leander, "babies does begin with B, don't +it?"</p> + +<p>You see their fust baby had been born; they named him +Peasley,—Peasley Hobart,—after Hattie's folks. So, seein' as +how it wuz payin' f'r a book that told about babies, Leander +didn't begredge that five dollars so very much after all.</p> + +<p>"Leander," sez Hattie one forenoon, "that B cyclopeedy ain't +no account. There ain't nothin' in it about babies except 'See +Maternity'!"</p> + +<p>"Waal, I'll be gosh durned!" sez Leander. That wuz all he +said, and he couldn't do nothin' at all, f'r that book-agent, +Lemuel Higgins, had the dead wood on him,—the mean, sneakin' +critter!</p> + +<p>So the years passed on, one of them cyclopeedies showin' up +now 'nd then,—sometimes every two years 'nd sometimes every +four, but allus at a time when Leander found it pesky hard to +give up a fiver. It warn't no use cussin' Higgins; Higgins just +laffed when Leander allowed that the cyclopeedy was no good 'nd +that he wuz bein' robbed. Meantime Leander's family wuz +increasin' and growin'. Little Sarey had the hoopin' cough +dreadful one winter, but the cyclopeedy didn't help out at all, +'cause all it said wuz: "Hoopin' Cough—See Whoopin' Cough"—and +uv course there warn't no Whoopin' Cough to see, bein' as how the +W hadn't come yet!</p> + +<p>Oncet when Hiram wanted to dreen the home pasture, he went to +the cyclopeedy to find out about it, but all he diskivered +wuz:</p> + +<p>"Drain—See Tile." This wuz in 1859, and the cyclopeedy had +only got down to G.</p> + +<p>The cow wuz sick with lung fever one spell, and Leander laid +her dyin' to that cussid cyclopeedy, 'cause when he went to +readin' 'bout cows it told him to "See Zoology."</p> + +<p>But what's the use uv harrowin' up one's feelin's talkin' 'nd +thinkin' about these things? Leander got so after a while that +the cyclopeedy didn't worry him at all: he grew to look at it ez +one uv the crosses that human critters has to bear without +complainin' through this vale uv tears. The only thing that +bothered him wuz the fear that mebbe he wouldn't live to see the +last volyume,—to tell the truth, this kind uv got to be his +hobby, and I've heern him talk 'bout it many a time settin' round +the stove at the tarvern 'nd squirtin' tobacco juice at the +sawdust box. His wife, Hattie, passed away with the yaller +janders the winter W come, and all that seemed to reconcile +Leander to survivin' her wuz the prospect uv seein' the last +volyume of that cyclopeedy. Lemuel Higgins, the book-agent, had +gone to his everlastin' punishment; but his son, Hiram, had +succeeded to his father's business 'nd continued to visit the +folks his old man had roped in. By this time Leander's children +had growed up; all on 'em wuz marr'd, and there wuz numeris +grandchildren to amuse the ol' gentleman. But Leander wuzn't to +be satisfied with the common things uv airth; he didn't seem to +take no pleasure in his grandchildren like most men do; his mind +wuz allers sot on somethin' else,—for hours 'nd hours, yes, all +day long, he'd set out on the front stoop lookin' wistfully up +the road for that book-agent to come along with a cyclopeedy. He +didn't want to die till he'd got all the cyclopeedies his +contract called for; he wanted to have everything straightened +out before he passed away. When—oh, how well I recollect +it—when Y come along he wuz so overcome that he fell over in a +fit uv paralysis, 'nd the old gentleman never got over it. For +the next three years he drooped 'nd pined, and seemed like he +couldn't hold out much longer. Finally he had to take to his +bed,—he was so old 'nd feeble,—but he made 'em move the bed up +ag'inst the winder so he could watch for that last volyume of the +cyclopeedy.</p> + +<p>The end come one balmy day in the spring uv '87. His life wuz +a-ebbin' powerful fast; the minister wuz there, 'nd me, 'nd Dock +Wilson, 'nd Jedge Baker, 'nd most uv the fam'ly. Lovin' hands +smoothed the wrinkled forehead 'nd breshed back the long, scant, +white hair, but the eyes of the dyin' man wuz sot upon that piece +uv road down which the cyclopeedy man allus come.</p> + +<p>All to oncet a bright 'nd joyful look come into them eyes, 'nd +ol' Leander riz up in bed 'nd sez, "It's come!"</p> + +<p>"What is it, Father?" asked his daughter Sarey, sobbin' +like.</p> + +<p>"Hush," says the minister, solemnly; "he sees the shinin' +gates uv the Noo Jerusalum."</p> + +<p>"No, no," cried the aged man; "it is the cyclopeedy—the +letter Z—it's comin'!"</p> + +<p>And, sure enough! the door opened, and in walked Higgins. He +tottered rather than walked, f'r he had growed old 'nd feeble in +his wicked perfession.</p> + +<p>"Here's the Z cyclopeedy, Mr. Hobart," sez Higgins.</p> + +<p>Leander clutched it; he hugged it to his pantin' bosom; then +stealin' one pale hand under the piller he drew out a faded +banknote 'nd gave it to Higgins.</p> + +<p>"I thank Thee for this boon," sez Leander, rollin' his eyes up +devoutly; then he gave a deep sigh.</p> + +<p>"Hold on," cried Higgins, excitedly, "you've made a +mistake—it isn't the last—"</p> + +<p>But Leander didn't hear him—his soul hed fled from its mortal +tenement 'nd hed soared rejoicin' to realms uv everlastin' +bliss.</p> + +<p>"He is no more," sez Dock Wilson, metaphorically.</p> + +<p>"Then who are his heirs?" asked that mean critter Higgins.</p> + +<p>"We be," sez the family.</p> + +<p>"Do you conjointly and severally acknowledge and assume the +obligation of deceased to me?" he asked 'em.</p> + +<p>"What obligation?" asked Peasley Hobart, stern like.</p> + +<p>"Deceased died owin' me f'r a cyclopeedy!" sez Higgins.</p> + +<p>"That's a lie!" sez Peasley. "We all seen him pay you for the +Z!"</p> + +<p>"But there's another one to come," sez Higgins.</p> + +<p>"Another?" they all asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, the index!" sez he.</p> + +<p>So there wuz, and I'll be eternally gol durned if he ain't +a-suin' the estate in the probate court now f'r the price uv +it!</p> + +<p>1889</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><b>Dock Stebbins</b></p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p>DOCK STEBBINS</p> + +<p>Most everybody liked Dock Stebbins, fur all he wuz the +durnedest critter that ever lived to play jokes on folks! Seems +like he wuz born jokin' 'nd kep' it up all his life. Ol' Mrs. +Stebbins used to tell how when the Dock wuz a baby he used to +wake her up haff a dozen times uv a night cryin' like he wuz +hungry, 'nd when she turnt over in bed to him he w'u'd laff 'nd +coo like he wuz sayin', "No, thank ye—I wuz only foolin'!"</p> + +<p>His mother allus thought a heap uv the Dock, 'nd she allus put +up with his jokes 'nd things without grumblin'; said it warn't +his fault that he wuz so full uv tricks 'nd funny business; kind +uv took the responsibility uv it onto herself, because, as she +allowed, she'd been to a circus jest afore he wuz born.</p> + +<p>Nothin' tickled the Dock more 'n to worry folks,—not in a +mean way, but jest to sort uv bother 'em. Used to hang round the +post-office 'nd pertend to have fits,—sakes alive! but how that +scared the wimmin folks. One day who should come along but ol' +Sue Perkins; Sue wuz suspicioned uv takin' a nip uv likker on the +quiet now 'nd then, but nobody had ever ketched her at it. Wall, +the Dock he had one uv his fits jest as Sue hove in sight, 'nd +Lem Thompson (who stood in with Dock in all his deviltry) leant +over Dock while he wuz wallerin' 'nd pertendin' to foam at the +mouth, and Lem cried out: "Nothink will fetch him out'n this turn +but a drink uv brandy." Sue, who wuz as kind-hearted a' old maid +as ever super'ntended a strawbeiry festival, whipped a bottle +out'n her bag 'nd says: "Here you be, Lem, but don't let him +swaller the bottle." Folks bothered Sue a heap 'bout this joke +till she moved down into Texas to teach school.</p> + +<p>Dock had a piece uv wood 'bout two inches long,—maybe three: +it wuz black 'nd stubby 'nd looked jest like the butt uv a cigar. +Nobody but Dock w'u'd ever hev thought uv sech a fool thing, but +Dock used to go round with that thing in his mouth like it wuz a +cigar, and when he 'd meet a man who wuz smokin' he'd say: +"Excuse me, but will you please to gimme a light?" Then the man +w'u'd hand over his cigar, and Dock w'u'd plough that wood stub +uv his'n around in the lighted cigar and would pertend to puff +away till he had put the real cigar out, 'nd then Dock w'u'd hand +the cigar back, sayin', kind uv regretful like: "You don't seem +to have much uv a light there; I reckon I'll wait till I kin git +a match." You kin imagine how that other feller's cigar tasted +when he lighted it ag'in. Dock tried it on me oncet, 'nd when I +lighted up ag'in seemed like I wuz smokin' a piece uv rope or a +liver-pad.</p> + +<p>One time Dock 'nd Lem Thompson went over to Peory on the +railroad, 'nd while they wuz settm' in the car in come two wimmin +'nd set in the seat ahead uv 'em. All uv a suddint Dock nudged +Lem 'nd says, jest loud enuff fur the wimmin to hear: "I didn't +git round till after it wuz over, but I never see sech a sight as +that baby's ear wuz."</p> + +<p>Lem wuz onto Dock's methods, 'nd he knew there wuz sumthin' +ahead. So he says: "Tough-lookin' ear, wuz it?"</p> + +<p>"Wall, I should remark," says Dock. "You see it wuz like this: +the mother had gone out into the back yard to hang some clo'es +onto the line, 'nd she laid the baby down in the crib. Baby +wa'n't more 'n six weeks old,—helpless little critter as ever +you seen. Wall, all to oncet the mother heerd the baby cryin', +but bein' busy with them clo'es she didn't mind much. The baby +kep' cryin' 'nd cryin', 'nd at last the mother come back into the +house, 'nd there she found a big rat gnawin' at one uv the baby's +ears,—had e't it nearly off! There lay that helpless little +innocent, cryin' 'nd writhin', 'nd there sat that rat with his +long tail, nippin' 'nd chewin' at one uv them tiny coral +ears—oh, it wuz offul!"</p> + +<p>"Jest imagine the feelinks uv the mother!" says Lem, sad +like.</p> + +<p>"Jest imagine the feelinks uv the <i>baby</i>," says Dock. +"How'd you like to be lyin' helpless in a crib with a big rat +gnawin' your ear?"</p> + +<p>Wall, all this conversation wuz fur from pleasant to those two +wimmin in the front seat, fur wimmin love babies 'nd hate rats, +you know. It wuz nuts fur Dock 'nd Lem to see the two wimmin +squirm, 'nd all the way to Peory they didn't talk about nuthink +but snakes 'nd spiders 'nd mice 'nd caterpillers. When the train +got to Peory a gentleman met the two wimmin 'nd says to one uv +'em: "I'm 'feered the trip hain't done you much good, Lizzie," +says he. "Sakes alive, John," says she, "it's a wonder we hain't +dead, for we've been travellin' forty miles with a real live +Beadle dime novvell!"</p> + +<p>'Nuther trick Dock had wuz to walk 'long the street behind +wimmin 'nd tell about how his sister had jest lost one uv her +diamond earrings while out walkin'. Jest as soon as the wimmin +heerd this they'd clap their han's up to their ears to see if +their earrings wuz all right. Dock never laffed nor let on like +he wuz jokin', but jest the same this sort uv thing tickled him +nearly to de'th.</p> + +<p>Dock went up to Chicago with Jedge Craig oncet, 'nd when they +come back the jedge said he'd never had such an offul time in all +his born days. Said that Dock bought a fool Mother Goose book to +read in the hoss-cars jest to queer folks; would set in a +hoss-car lookin' at the pictur's 'nd readin' the verses 'nd +laffin' like it wuz all new to him 'nd like he wuz a child. +Everybody sized him up for a' eject, 'nd the wimmin folks shook +their heads 'nd said it was orful fur so fine a lookin' feller to +be such a torn fool. 'Nuther thing Dock did wuz to git hold uv a +bad quarter 'nd give it to a beggar, 'nd then foller the beggar +into a saloon 'nd git him arrested for tryin' to pass counterf'it +money. I reckon that if Dock had stayed in Chicago a week he'd +have had everybody crazy.</p> + +<p>No, I don't know how he come to be a medikil man. He told me +oncet that when he found out that he wuzn't good for anythink he +concluded he'd be a doctor; but I reckon that wuz one uv his +jokes. He didn't have much uv a practice: he wuz too yumorous to +suit most invalids 'nd sick folks. We had him tend our boy Sam +jest oncet when Sam wuz comin' down with the measles. He looked +at Sam's tongue 'nd felt his pulse 'nd said he'd leave a pill for +Sam to take afore goin' to bed.</p> + +<p>"How shell we administer the pill?" asked my wife.</p> + +<p>"Wall," says Dock, "the best way to do is to git the boy down +on the floor 'nd hold his mouth open 'nd gag him till he swallers +the pill. After the pill gits into his system it will explode in +about ten minnits, 'nd then the boy will feel better."</p> + +<p>This wuz cheerful news for the boy. No human power c'u'd ha' +got that pill into Sam. We never solicited Dock's perfeshional +services ag'in.</p> + +<p>One time Dock 'nd Lem Thompson drove over to Knoxville to help +Dock Parsons cut a man's leg off. About four miles out uv town +'nd right in the middle uv the hot peraroor they met Moses +Baker's oldest boy trudgin' along with a basket uv eggs. The Dock +whoaed his hoss 'nd called to the boy,—</p> + +<p>"Where be you goin' with them eggs?" says he.</p> + +<p>"Goin' to town to sell 'em," says the boy.</p> + +<p>"How much a dozen?" asked the Dock.</p> + +<p>"'Bout ten cents, I reckon," says the boy.</p> + +<p>"Putty likely-lookin' eggs," says the Dock; 'nd he handed the +lines over to Lem, 'nd got out'n the buggy.</p> + +<p>"How many hev you got?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Ten dozen," says the boy.</p> + +<p>"Git out!" says Dock. "There hain't no ten dozen eggs in that +basket!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, there is," says the boy, "fur I counted 'em myself."</p> + +<p>The Dock allowed that he wuzn't goin' to take nobody's count +on eggs; so he got that fool boy to stan' there in the middle uv +that hot peraroor, claspin' his two hands together, while he, the +Dock, counted them eggs out'n the basket one by one into the +boy's arms. Ten dozen eggs is a heap; you kin imagine, maybe, how +that boy looked with his arms full uv eggs! When the Dock had got +about nine dozen counted out he stopped all uv a suddint 'nd +said, "Wall, come to think on 't, I reckon I don't want no eggs +to-day, but I'm jest as much obleeged to you fur yer trubble." +And so he jumped back into the buggy 'nd drove off.</p> + +<p>Now, maybe that fool boy wuzn't in a peck uv trubble! There he +stood in the middle uv that hot—that all-fired hot—peraroor +with his arms full uv eggs. What wuz there fur him to do? He wuz +afraid to move, lest he should break them eggs; yet the longer he +stood there the less chance there wuz uv the warm weather +improvin' the eggs.</p> + +<p>Along in the summer of '78 the fever broke out down South, 'nd +one day Dock made up his mind that as bizness wuzn't none too +good at home he'd go down South 'nd see what he could do there. +That wuz jest like one of Dock's fool notions, we all said. But +he went. In about six weeks along come a telegraph sayin' that +Dock wuz dead,—he'd died uv the fever. The minister went up to +the homestead 'nd broke the news gentle like to Dock's mother; +but, bless you! she didn't believe it—she wouldn't believe it. +She said it wuz one uv Dock's jokes; she didn't blame him, +nuther—it wuz <i>her</i> fault, she allowed, that Dock wuz allus +that way about makin' fun uv life 'nd death. No, sir; she never +believed that Dock wuz dead, but she allus talked like he might +come in any minnit; and there wuz allus his old place set fur him +at the table 'nd nuthin' wuz disturbed in his little room +up-stairs. And so five years slipped by 'nd no Dock come back, +'nd there wuz no tidin's uv him. Uv course, the rest uv us knew; +but his mother—oh, no, <i>she</i> never would believe it.</p> + +<p>At last the old lady fell sick, and the doctor said she +couldn't hold out long, she wuz so old 'nd feeble. The minister +who wuz there said that she seemed to sleep from the evenin' uv +this life into the mornin' uv the next. Jest afore the last she +kind uv raised up in bed and cried out like she saw sumthin' that +she loved, and she held out her arms like there wuz some one +standin' in the doorway. Then they asked her what the matter wuz, +and she says, joyful like: "He's come back, and there he stan's +jest as he used ter: I knew he wuz only jokin'!"</p> + +<p>They looked, but they saw nuthin'; 'nd when they went to her +she wuz dead.</p> + +<p>1888.</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><b>The Fairies of Pesth</b></p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p><br> +</p> + +<p>THE FAIRIES OF PESTH [1]</p> + +<p>An old poet walked alone in a quiet valley. His heart was +heavy, and the voices of Nature consoled him. His life had been a +lonely and sad one. Many years ago a great grief fell upon him, +and it took away all his joy and all his ambition. It was because +he brooded over his sorrow, and because he was always faithful to +a memory, that the townspeople deemed him a strange old poet; but +they loved him and they loved his songs,—in his life and in his +songs there was a gentleness, a sweetness, a pathos that touched +every heart. "The strange, the dear old poet," they called +him.</p> + +<p>Evening was coming on. The birds made no noise; only the +whip-poor-will repeated over and over again its melancholy +refrain in the marsh beyond the meadow. The brook ran slowly, and +its voice was so hushed and tiny that you might have thought that +it was saying its prayers before going to bed.</p> + +<p>The old poet came to the three lindens. This was a spot he +loved, it was so far from the noise of the town. The grass under +the lindens was fresh and velvety. The air was full of fragrance, +for here amid the grass grew violets and daisies and buttercups +and other modest wild-flowers. Under the lindens stood old Leeza, +the witchwife.</p> + +<p>"Take this," said the poet to old Leeza, the witchwife; and he +gave her a silver piece.</p> + +<p>"You are good to me, master poet," said the witchwife. "You +have always been good to me. I do not forget, master poet, I do +not forget."</p> + +<p>"Why do you speak so strangely?" asked the old poet. "You mean +more than you say. Do not jest with me; my heart is heavy with +sorrow."</p> + +<p>"I do not jest," answered the witchwife. "I will show you a +strange thing. Do as I bid you; tarry here under the lindens, and +when the moon rises, the Seven Crickets will chirp thrice; then +the Raven will fly into the west, and you will see wonderful +things, and beautiful things you will hear."</p> + +<p>Saying this much, old Leeza, the witch-wife, stole away, and +the poet marvelled at her words. He had heard the townspeople say +that old Leeza was full of dark thoughts and of evil deeds, but +he did not heed these stories.</p> + +<p>"They say the same of me, perhaps," he thought. "I will tarry +here beneath the three lindens and see what may come of this +whereof the witch wife spake."</p> + +<p>The old poet sat amid the grass at the foot of the three +lindens, and darkness fell around him. He could see the lights in +the town away off; they twinkled like the stars that studded the +sky. The whip-poor-will told his story over and over again in the +marsh beyond the meadow, and the brook tossed and talked in its +sleep, for it had played too hard that day.</p> + +<p>"The moon is rising," said the old poet. "Now we shall +see."</p> + +<p>The moon peeped over the tops of the far-off hills. She +wondered whether the world was fast asleep. She peeped again. +There could be no doubt; the world was fast asleep,—at least so +thought the dear old moon. So she stepped boldly up from behind +the distant hills. The stars were glad that she came, for she was +indeed a merry old moon.</p> + +<p>The Seven Crickets lived in the hedge. They were brothers, and +they made famous music. When they saw the moon in the sky they +sang "chirp-chirp, chirp-chirp, chirp-chirp," three times, just +as old Leeza, the witchwife, said they would.</p> + +<p>"Whir-r-r!" It was the Raven flying out of the oak-tree into +the west. This, too, was what the old witchwife had foretold. +"Whir-r-r" went the two black wings, and then it seemed as if the +Raven melted into the night. Now, this was strange enough, but +what followed was stranger still.</p> + +<p>Hardly had the Raven flown away, when out from their +habitations in the moss, the flowers, and the grass trooped a +legion of fairies,—yes, right there before the old poet's eyes +appeared, as if by magic, a mighty troop of the dearest little +fays in all the world.</p> + +<p>Each of these fairies was about the height of a cambric +needle. The lady fairies were, of course, not so tall as the +gentleman fairies, but all were of quite as comely figure as you +could expect to find even among real folk. They were quaintly +dressed; the ladies wearing quilted silk gowns and broadbrim hats +with tiny feathers in them, and the gentlemen wearing curious +little knickerbockers, with silk coats, white hose, ruffled +shirts, and dainty cocked hats.</p> + +<p>"If the witchwife had not foretold it I should say that I +dreamed," thought the old poet. But he was not frightened. He had +never harmed the fairies, therefore he feared no evil from +them.</p> + +<p>One of the fairies was taller than the rest, and she was much +more richly attired. It was not her crown alone that showed her +to be the queen. The others made obeisance to her as she passed +through the midst of them from her home in the bunch of red +clover. Four dainty pages preceded her, carrying a silver web +which had been spun by a black-and-yellow garden spider of great +renown. This silver web the four pages spread carefully over a +violet leaf, and thereupon the queen sat down. And when she was +seated the queen sang this little song:</p> + +<blockquote> +<pre> + "From the land of murk and mist + Fairy folk are coming + To the mead the dew has kissed, + And they dance where'er they list + To the cricket's thrumming. + +"Circling here and circling there, + Light as thought and free as air, + Hear them cry, 'Oho, oho,' + As they round the rosey go. + + "Appleblossom, Summerdew, + Thistleblow, and Ganderfeather! + Join the airy fairy crew + Dancing on the swaid together! + Till the cock on yonder steeple + Gives all faery lusty warning, + Sing and dance, my little people,— + Dance and sing 'Oho' till morning!" +</pre> +</blockquote> + +The four little fairies the queen called to must have been +loitering. But now they came scampering up,—Ganderfeather behind +the others, for he was a very fat and presumably a very lazy +little fairy. + +<p>"The elves will be here presently," said the queen, "and then, +little folk, you shall dance to your heart's content. Dance your +prettiest to-night, for the good old poet is watching you."</p> + +<p>"Ah, little queen," cried the old poet, "you see me, then? I +thought to watch your revels unbeknown to you. But I meant you no +disrespect,—indeed, I meant you none, for surely no one ever +loved the little folk more than I."</p> + +<p>"We know you love us, good old poet," said the little fairy +queen, "and this night shall give you great joy and bring you +into wondrous fame."</p> + +<p>These were words of which the old poet knew not the meaning; +but we, who live these many years after he has fallen asleep,—we +know the meaning of them.</p> + +<p>Then, surely enough, the elves came trooping along. They lived +in the further meadow, else they had come sooner. They were +somewhat larger than the fairies, yet they were very tiny and +very delicate creatures. The elf prince had long flaxen curls, +and he was arrayed in a wonderful suit of damask web, at the +manufacture of which seventy-seven silkworms had labored for +seventy-seven days, receiving in payment therefor as many +mulberry leaves as seven blue beetles could carry and stow in +seven times seven sunny days. At his side the elf prince wore a +sword made of the sting of a yellow-jacket, and the hilt of this +sword was studded with the eyes of unhatched dragon-flies, these +brighter and more precious than the most costly diamonds.</p> + +<p>The elf prince sat beside the fairy queen. The other elves +capered around among the fairies. The dancing sward was very +light, for a thousand and ten glowworms came from the marsh and +hung their beautiful lamps over the spot where the little folk +were assembled. If the moon and the stars were jealous of that +soft, mellow light, they had good reason to be.</p> + +<p>The fairies and elves circled around in lively fashion. Their +favorite dance was the ring-round-a-rosey which many children +nowadays dance. But they had other measures, too, and they danced +them very prettily.</p> + +<p>"I wish," said the old poet, "I wish that I had my violin +here, for then I would make merry music for you."</p> + +<p>The fairy queen laughed. "We have music of our own," she said, +"and it is much more beautiful than even you, dear old poet, +could make."</p> + +<p>Then, at the queen's command, each gentleman elf offered his +arm to a lady fairy, and each gentleman fairy offered his arm to +a lady elf, and so, all being provided with partners, these +little people took their places for a waltz. The fairy queen and +the elf prince were the only ones that did not dance; they sat +side by side on the violet leaf and watched the others. The +hoptoad was floor manager; the green burdock badge on his breast +showed that.</p> + +<p>"Mind where you go—don't jostle each other," cried the +hoptoad, for he was an exceedingly methodical fellow, despite his +habit of jumping at conclusions.</p> + +<p>Then, when all was ready, the Seven Crickets went +"chirp-chirp, chirp-chirp, chirp-chirp," three times, and away +flew that host of little fairies and little elves in the +daintiest waltz imaginable:—</p> + + +<p><img src="images/1st.jpg" alt="1st.jpg"></p> + +<p>The old poet was delighted. Never before had he seen such a +sight; never before had he heard so sweet music. Round and round +whirled the sprite dancers; the thousand and ten glowworms caught +the rhythm of the music that floated up to them, and they swung +their lamps to and fro in time with the fairy waltz. The plumes +in the hats of the cunning little ladies nodded hither and +thither, and the tiny swords of the cunning little gentlemen +bobbed this way and that as the throng of dancers swept now here, +now there. With one tiny foot, upon which she wore a lovely shoe +made of a tanned flea's hide, the fairy queen beat time, yet she +heard every word which the gallant elf prince said. So, with the +fairy queen blushing, the mellow lamps swaying, the elf prince +wooing, and the throng of little folk dancing hither and thither, +the fairy music went on and on:—</p> + +<p><img src="images/2nd.jpg" alt="2nd.jpg" ></p> + +<p>"Tell me, my fairy queen," cried the old poet, "whence comes +this fairy music which I hear? The Seven Crickets in the hedge +are still, the birds sleep in their nests, the brook dreams of +the mountain home it stole away from yester morning. Tell me, +therefore, whence comes this wondrous fairy music, and show me +the strange musicians that make it."</p> + +<p><img src="images/3rd.jpg" alt="3rd.jpg"></p> + +<p>"Look to the grass and the flowers," said the fairy queen. "In +every blade and in every bud lie hidden notes of fairy music. +Each violet and daisy and buttercup,—every modest wild-flower +(no matter how hidden) gives glad response to the tinkle of fairy +feet. Dancing daintily over this quiet sward where flowers dot +the green, my little people strike here and there and everywhere +the keys which give forth the harmonies you hear."</p> + +<p>Long marvelled the old poet. He forgot his sorrow, for the +fairy music stole into his heart and soothed the wound there. The +fairy host swept round and round, and the fairy music went on and +on.</p> + +<p><img src="images/4th.jpg" alt="4th.jpg"></p> + +<p>"Why may I not dance?" asked a piping voice. "Please, dear +queen, may I not dance, too?"</p> + +<p>It was the little hunchback that spake,—the little hunchback +fairy who, with wistful eyes, had been watching the merry throng +whirl round and round.</p> + +<p>"Dear child, thou canst not dance," said the fairy queen, +tenderly; "thy little limbs are weak. Come, sit thou at my feet, +and let me smooth thy fair curls and stroke thy pale cheeks."</p> + +<p>"Believe me, dear queen," persisted the little hunchback, "I +can dance, and quite prettily, too. Many a time while the others +made merry here I have stolen away by myself to the brookside and +danced alone in the moonlight,—alone with my shadow. The violets +are thickest there. 'Let thy halting feet fall upon us, Little +Sorrowful,' they whispered, 'and we shall make music for thee.' +So there I danced, and the violets sang their songs for me. I +could hear the others making merry far away, but I was merry, +too; for I, too, danced, and there was none to laugh."</p> + +<p>"If you would like it, Little Sorrowful," said the elf prince, +"I will dance with you."</p> + +<p>"No, brave prince," answered the little hunchback, "for that +would weary you. My crutch is stout, and it has danced with me +before. You will say that we dance very prettily,—my crutch and +I,—and you will not laugh, I know."</p> + +<p>Then the queen smiled sadly; she loved the little hunchback +and she pitied her.</p> + +<p>"It shall be as you wish," said the queen. The little +hunchback was overjoyed.</p> + +<p>"I have to catch the time, you see," said she, and she tapped +her crutch and swung one little shrunken foot till her body fell +into the rhythm of the waltz.</p> + +<p>Far daintier than the others did the little hunchback dance; +now one tiny foot and now the other tinkled on the flowers, and +the point of the little crutch fell here and there like a tear. +And as she danced, there crept into the fairy music a tenderer +cadence, for (I know not why) the little hunchback danced ever on +the violets, and their responses were full of the music of tears. +There was a strange pathos in the little creature's grace; she +did not weary of the dance: her cheeks flushed, and her eyes grew +fuller, and there was a wondrous light in them. And as the little +hunchback danced, the others forgot her limp and felt only the +heart-cry in the little hunchback's merriment and in the music of +the voiceful violets.</p> + +<p><img src="images/5th.jpg" alt="5th.jpg"></p> + +<p>Now all this saw the old poet, and all this wondrously +beautiful music he heard. And as he heard and saw these things, +he thought of the pale face, the weary eyes, and the tired little +body that slept forever now. He thought of the voice that had +tried to be cheerful for his sake, of the thin, patient little +hands that had loved to do his bidding, of the halting little +feet that had hastened to his calling.</p> + +<p>"Is it thy spirit, O my love?" he wailed, "Is it thy spirit, O +dear, dead love?"</p> + +<p>A mist came before his eyes, and his heart gave a great +cry.</p> + +<p>But the fairy dance went on and on. The others swept to and +fro and round and round, but the little hunchback danced always +on the violets, and through the other music there could be +plainly heard, as it crept in and out, the mournful cadence of +those tenderer flowers.</p> + +<p>And, with the music and the dancing, the night faded into +morning. And all at once the music ceased and the little folk +could be seen no more. The birds came from their nests, the brook +began to bestir himself, and the breath of the new-born day +called upon all in that quiet valley to awaken.</p> + +<p>So many years have passed since the old poet, sitting under +the three lindens half a league the other side of Pesth, saw the +fairies dance and heard the fairy music,—so many years have +passed since then, that had the old poet not left us an echo of +that fairy waltz there would be none now to believe the story I +tell.</p> + +<p><img src="images/6th.jpg" alt="6th.jpg"></p> + +<p>Who knows but that this very night the elves and the fairies +will dance in the quiet valley; that Little Sorrowful will tinkle +her maimed feet upon the singing violets, and that the little +folk will illustrate in their revels, through which a tone of +sadness steals, the comedy and pathos of our lives? Perhaps no +one shall see, perhaps no one else ever did see, these fairy +people dance their pretty dances; but we who have heard old +Robert Volkmann's waltz know full well that he at least saw that +strange sight and heard that wondrous music.</p> + +<p>And you will know so, too, when you have read this true story +and heard old Volkmann's claim to immortality.</p> + +<p>1887.</p> + +<p>[Footnote 1: The music arranged by Mr. Theodore Thomas.]</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's A Little Book of Profitable Tales, by Eugene Field + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A LITTLE BOOK OF PROFITABLE TALES *** + +***** This file should be named 9485-h.htm or 9485-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/9/4/8/9485/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Sheila Vogtmann and PG +Distributed Proofreaders. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at + www.gutenberg.org/license. + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 +North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email +contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the +Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/9485-h/images/1st.jpg b/9485-h/images/1st.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0da787b --- /dev/null +++ b/9485-h/images/1st.jpg diff --git a/9485-h/images/2nd.jpg b/9485-h/images/2nd.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e727b68 --- /dev/null +++ b/9485-h/images/2nd.jpg diff --git a/9485-h/images/3rd.jpg b/9485-h/images/3rd.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..783fdf7 --- /dev/null +++ b/9485-h/images/3rd.jpg diff --git a/9485-h/images/4th.jpg b/9485-h/images/4th.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ff6301c --- /dev/null +++ b/9485-h/images/4th.jpg diff --git a/9485-h/images/5th.jpg b/9485-h/images/5th.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cd12491 --- /dev/null +++ b/9485-h/images/5th.jpg diff --git a/9485-h/images/6th.jpg b/9485-h/images/6th.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..95e5f5e --- /dev/null +++ b/9485-h/images/6th.jpg |
