[Transcriber's Notes]
The spelling of "didn't" as "did n't", "center" as "centre" and other such usages, has been maintained.
Here are the definitions of some unfamiliar (to me) words.
cataplasm (poultice)
Soft moist adhesive mass of meal or clay, usually heated, spread on cloth, and applied to warm, moisten, or stimulate an aching or inflamed part of the body.
doggerel
Irregularly fashioned verse of a humorous nature.
halberdiers
Guard armed with a halberd, a weapon having an ax-like blade and a steel spike mounted on the end of a long shaft.
importuning
Beg for something persistently.
sedges
Grasslike plants of the family Cyperaceae, having solid stems and three vertical rows of leaves.
seneschal
Official in a medieval noble household in charge of domestic arrangements and the administration of servants.
[End Transcriber's Notes]
The FIRELIGHT FAIRY BOOK
By HENRY BESTON
ILLUSTRATIONS BY MAURICE E. DAY
LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY BOSTON
COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS, Inc.
All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign languages, including the Scandinavian.
THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS PUBLICATIONS ARE PUBLISHED BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY IN ASSOCIATION WITH THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY COMPANY
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
FOREWORD
THE ASSISTANT SECRETARY OF THE NAVY WASHINGTON, September 7. 1922
DEAR HENRY:--
"Grown-ups" arrogate entirely too much to themselves. I know this is so. I discovered it for a fact when I was not more than "knee-high to a grasshopper" myself. I knew, for example, that a certain amount of dirt on my face and hands in no way interfered with my enjoyment of my supper. The fact that my finger nails were not all they should have been had no bearing whatsoever upon the efficiency of those same fingers. Washing not only took time from other important pursuits, but also was mildly unpleasant. Nevertheless, my mother was not even open to reasonable argument on the matter. Arbitrarily, with the despotism of an early Roman Emperor, she rendered a dictum to the effect that I must wash, and soapy and submissive I had to be before I could come to the table. Again, any reasonable child can tell you that pleasure is the main object of eating; therefore, in all logic, one should eat if one feels like it at ten o'clock in the morning, or at three o'clock in the afternoon, a jar of Guava jelly, a pound of chocolates, a paper of ginger cookies, or whatever may appeal to one's aesthetic taste. This method of procedure, naturally, might necessitate recourse to the brown-wood family medicine closet. Certain discomfort might ensue. But was not the pleasure worth it? Again my mother arbitrarily took the matter into her own hands, disagreeing with me on fundamentals. She maintained that eating was not for pleasure simply, but for nourishment. Sundry unfortunate remarks were made containing references to gluttony. The pantry was locked, and regular meals at regular periods were prescribed. Indeed, poems with dreadful morals for those who ate between meals were recited to me, endeavor being made thereby to substitute terror for inclination.
Any reasonable child will find many such parallel instances of the assumed omnipotence of "grownups." With this awful indictment before me, you ask me, a "grown-up," to write an introduction for the "Firelight Fairy Book," and thereby to assume the responsibility for passing judgment upon it. There is but one circumstance that makes me willing to do so. I believe that where any nice "grown-up" is concerned, if you crack the hard outside shell with which circumstances have surrounded him, beneath it you will find a child. Banking on this, I venture to say that I thoroughly enjoyed the "Firelight Fairy Book." I liked particularly the story of the poor little prince, whose sneezing had such a disastrous effect; and the lost half hour is unquestionably an accurate historical account, because no one could have described so accurately, simply from imagination, what a lost temper looked like. What makes me even more willing to advance my opinion is that I do not stand alone. My conclusions are supported by a jury of my peers, for I have given the book as a Christmas gift, not only to my own children, but to other people's children, and to one of the prominent Senators of the United States. They have universally acclaimed it, and who can question the judgment of such a jury?
Good luck to the "Firelight Fairy Book." May it, like Scrooge's laugh in the "Christmas Carol," "be the father of a long, long line of brilliant" books of a like nature for the enjoyment of all true children, whether they be still at day school, or sitting in the high places of the world.
Believe me, Yours very truly, THEODORE ROOSEVELT
HENRY BESTON, ESQ. Topsfield, Mass.
HOW THE NEW FAIRY TALES CAME TO BE WRITTEN
Some twenty years ago, in a pleasant old town by the sea, lived a lad who was very, very fond of fairy tales. When he had read all the fairy-books which his parents and his uncles and his cousins and his sisters and his aunts had been kind enough to give him, he turned to the town library and read every single fairy tale he could find mentioned in the catalogue. But there was an end even to this treasure; and, finally, a day came when the fairy-tale lover could find no new tales to read. Every Christmas he would peek at the new books in the bookshops, only to find the same old stories printed, with new pictures, meant to please grown-ups. What could be the matter? Had the fairies all gone away, or locked the doors of Fairyland? Where, where, where were the new stories, and why, why, why did n't people write them?
Some years passed. One pleasant summer day, as the fairy-tale lover sat reading a book beneath the low spreading branches of an oak tree, he heard a hum of wings, and looking up startled from his book, he discovered the Fairy Goldenwand standing close by.
"Are you still seeking new fairy tales?" said the Fairy Goldenwand.
"Yes," said the reader.
"Will you write them down if I tell you some really new ones?" said the Fairy.
"Oh yes, indeed," said the reader. "And I'll put them into a book; and next Saturday Mr. Day, the artist, will come down; we shall have tea here under the oak tree,--do you like hot buttered toast?--and you must tell him all about the fashions in Fairyland."
"Oh, that will be fine!" said the Fairy Goldenwand. "I knew you would n't mind my appearing so suddenly. Ever so many things have happened in Fairyland since the last books were written, and we all think it's a dreadful shame that children have n't heard about them. Just imagine boys and girls not knowing about the adventures of the Prince in Lantern Land! Shall I tell you the story?"
And that's the way the author heard about the Shepherd of Clouds, Florian, Marianna, Giles, Bobo, and all the other new friends. That you may long enjoy their adventures is the wish of
HENRY BESTON
MAURICE E. DAY
THE FAIRY GOLDENWAND
The Parson Capen Home
Topsfield, Massachusetts
CONTENTS
THE QUEEN OF LANTERN LAND
THE ADVENTURES OF FLORIAN
THE SELLER OF DREAMS
THE TREASURE CASTLE
PRINCE SNEEZE
MARIANNA
THE LOST HALF-HOUR
THE ENCHANTED ELM
THE BIRD-BOY
THE MASTER MARINER
THE MARVELOUS DOG AND THE WONDERFUL CAT
THE SHEPHERD OF CLOUDS
THE CITY UNDER THE SEA
ILLUSTRATIONS
THE QUEEN OF LANTERN LAND
The Prince begins his journey through the caverns
THE ADVENTURES OF FLORIAN
Over hill, over dale, Florian followed the magic ball
THE SELLER OF DREAMS
"How much does a dream cost?" asked Peter
"A golden florin," answered the Seller of Dreams
THE TREASURE CASTLE
The three rogues were locked in the flying room
PRINCE SNEEZE
The chest of secrets was made of black stone
MARIANNA
Into the world went Marianna and the yellow bird
THE LOST HALF-HOUR
Just as the dragon's mouth was at its widest
THE ENCHANTED ELM
The maiden watched the woodcutters coming through the wood
THE BIRD-BOY
Every year, on the Bird-Boy's birthday, a great gray bird was seen
THE MASTER MARINER
Splash! and the Master Mariner fell into the sea
THE MARVELOUS DOG AND THE WONDERFUL CAT
The Dog and the Cat studying their lessons
THE SHEPHERD OF CLOUDS
It was Giles's task to open the door of the cloud-bowl
THE CITY UNDER THE SEA
For three days the Merchant pursued the ship with the fiery sails
THE QUEEN OF LANTERN LAND
Once upon a time the youngest son of a king became filled with the desire to go abroad and see the world. He got his father's permission to depart, kissed his parents good-bye, mounted his black horse, and galloped away down the high road. Soon the gray towers of the old castle in which he was born hid themselves behind him.
The Prince journeyed on, spending the days in traveling, and the nights in little wayside inns, till one day he found himself in the heart of the Adamant Mountains. The great, red granite crags of the surrounding peaks rose out of the gleaming snow like ugly fingers, and the slopes of giant glaciers sparkled in the sun like torrents of diamonds. The Prince sat down by some stunted trees whose tops had long before been broken off by an avalanche, and began to eat the bit of bread and cheese which he had stored in his pocket. His black horse, meanwhile, ate the grass which grew here and there along the mountain path. And as the Prince sat there in the bright sun and the silence of the mountains, he became aware of a low, continuous roaring.
"There must be a waterfall near-by," said the Prince to himself. "I'll go and see it."
So, casting another look at his steed, who was contentedly browsing, the Prince climbed up the mountainside in the direction of the sound.
The Prince climbed and climbed, he went in this direction and in that, yet the sound never grew any louder or fainter. Suddenly he realized that he was hopelessly lost. The little path up which he had ridden had vanished completely, and he had not the slightest idea in which direction it lay. He called aloud, but only the mountain echoes answered mockingly.
Night came, and the Prince took shelter behind a great rock. All the next day he labored to find the path, but in vain. He grew very hungry and cold. Every once in a while he would hear the roaring of the waterfall, which seemed to have grown louder.
Another day dawned, and another day again. The Prince was getting very weak. He knew that he was approaching the mysterious cataract, for the noise of the water was now tremendous, and heaven and earth were full of its roar. The third night came, and the full moon rose solemnly over the snow-clad summits of the lonely and mysterious mountains. Suddenly the Prince, walking blindly on, staggered through a narrow passage-way between two splintered crags, and found himself face to face with the mystery.
He stood on the snowy floor of a vast amphitheatre whose walls were the steep sides of the giant mountains. Farthest away from him, and opposite the moon, the wall of the bowl appeared as a giant black precipice, whose top seemed to reach almost to the moon-dimmed stars; and over this precipice a broad river was endlessly pouring, shining in the night like the overflow of an ocean of molten silver. Though now very weak from lack of food, and dizzy with the roaring of the cataract, the Prince made his way to the shore of the foaming and eddying lake into which the water was falling. Great was his surprise to discover that the overflow of this lake disappeared into the earth through a long, low opening in the cliff behind the fall. Greater still was his surprise to see a strange many-colored light burning within the cave.
The Prince made his way toward the light, along a narrow beach of white sand lying between the wall of the cavern and the racing waters of the mysterious river, and found that the glow came from a magnificent lantern studded with emeralds, topazes, amethysts, and rubies, which hung by a chain from the roof of the grotto. Directly under this lantern, drawn up on the sand, lay a little boat with a lantern fastened to the bow. The Prince pushed the boat into the river, and got into it, and the swift current seized him and hurried him away.
At first the cavern grew higher and wider; then it shrank again, and the boat, borne along with incredible speed, shot down a rocky passageway into the very heart of the earth. The passageway broadened once more, and the boat rode gently through monstrous caves whose roofs were upheld by twisted columns taller than the tallest tree. There were times when all was so still that the Prince could easily have imagined himself back in the solitude of the mountains; there were times when the foaming and roaring of the underground river grew so deafening that the Prince feared lest he might be approaching the brink of a subterranean cataract.
Many hours passed. The Prince did not know whether it was night or day. At length, while the boat was gliding through a vast hall, he fell asleep. When he awoke, he found that the boat was floating on the black, glassy surface of an immense underground ocean. All signs of the cavern had disappeared. Far away, over the edge of this ocean, a strange, beautiful glow mounted into the starless sky of the underworld. And while the Prince was gazing at the glow, the boat swung into a new current, and was borne swiftly toward the light. In a short time the light grew so wide and bright that one would have believed that a strange, golden sun had risen. The boat passed between two giant marble pillars supporting enormous crystal globes filled with a golden fire, and the Prince found himself in the harbor of Lantern Land.
A city lay before him, a strange golden city edging the shore of a vast, semi-circular bay. Because in the centre of the earth there is neither sun nor moon, the people have to be continually burning lights; and so many and so great were the lanterns of Lantern Land that the town was as bright as day. The edge of the harbor was marked with a row of golden lanterns; there were immense lanterns at every six paces along the streets; a lantern hung from every house; and the church-towers, instead of having bells in them, had great golden lamps which illumined everything for some distance about. Moreover, every inhabitant of Lantern Land carried a lantern with him wherever he went, the rich carrying golden lanterns set with transparent precious stones, the poor carrying lights of ordinary glass.
Soon the Prince saw a magnificent ship coming out to meet him. The prow was carved in the shape of a dragon's head, and a beautiful lantern hung from its jaws. Overcome by hunger and fatigue, the poor Prince fell insensible to the floor of his little boat. When he came to his senses again, he was lying between sheets of the whitest, most delicate linen in a great four-poster bed, in a room in the royal palace.
Thanks to his kind hosts, the Prince soon recovered his strength. When he was completely himself again, he was summoned to an audience with the Queen of Lantern Land.
The Queen, a very beautiful young woman, wearing a wonderful lantern crown, sat on an ebony throne. On each side of the throne stood a tall soldier, clad in scarlet and holding a long ebony staff surmounted by a round lantern lit by a golden flame.
The Prince dropped on his knee, and thanked the Queen for her kindness and hospitality.
"You are the first stranger to come to Lantern Land for a thousand years," said the young Queen. "If it is not asking too much from a guest, pray how did you happen to find the river of the underworld?"
So the Prince told her that he was a king's son, and described his adventures in the mountains. You may be sure the Queen was glad to hear of his royal birth, for she had fallen in love with him at first sight.
A month passed. The Prince remained a guest in the palace. All kinds of festivities were given in his honor; there were wonderful dances, masquerades, picnics, and theatricals going on all the time. One day the Prince and the Queen, accompanied by a little group of courtiers, rode to the frontier of Lantern Land. The lovers galloped ahead of the party and reached a little hill beyond which there were no more lanterns. Ahead of them the rolling land, sweeping farther and farther away from the light, grew darker and darker, till it finally plunged into the eternal night of the underworld.
The Prince looked at the Queen, and saw that she was weeping.
"Dear love, why do you weep?" asked the Prince, who felt sad to see tears in his lady's lovely eyes.
"I weep to think that in spite of our love we must soon part forever," said the Queen.
"Part forever? Dear lady, what can you mean?" said the anxious Prince.
"A cruel fate hangs over us," replied the lady. "Know, dear Prince, that I am promised in marriage to the Enchanter Dragondel, and that in exactly eight days, he will come here to claim my hand."
"The Enchanter Dragondel--who is he?" said the Prince.
"Alas," said the Queen, "the Enchanter Dragondel is the most powerful magician of all the underworld. He is about eight feet tall, has cruel sunken eyes that burn like dull fires, and dresses entirely in black. We met at a ball given by the King of the Goblins. Dragondel pursued me with compliments. A few days afterwards, an iron boat arrived in the port of Lantern Land, having on board a giant blue dog who is Dragondel's younger brother. This terrible animal, from whose sight the people of Lantern Land fled screaming, made his way to the palace, and dropped at my feet a jeweled casket, which he carried between his jaws. The casket contained Dragondel's request for my hand, and added that, were I to refuse him, he would let loose a legion of ghosts and other winged spirits against the lanterns of Lantern Land. I had a vision of Lantern Land in darkness; of my poor subjects dying of fear and starvation. Rather than let this vision come true, I accepted the Enchanter. Soon I shall never see you again, for Dragondel will come and take me to his awful castle which lies on an island in the dark ocean. Nor will you ever be able to save me, for Dragondel has so bewitched the waves that a terrible whirlpool forms on the sea when a boat approaches the enchanted castle, and engulfs it."
"But I can fight Dragondel," said the Prince, like the brave youth that he was.
"That would be of little use," replied the Queen, "for you would be changed into a stone the instant you crossed swords with him. Tomorrow, the blue dog arrives to remind me of my obligation, and to carry back to the island some of the palace servants who are to make Dragondel's castle ready for my coming."
The other members of the party now rode up, and the Queen dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief, and pretended not to have been crying. The Prince and the Queen felt very unhappy as they rode home.
On the next day, sure enough, the iron boat arrived, and the blue dog, who was as large as a lion, went to the Queen's palace, and bade her make ready for the coming wedding. A dozen of the Queen's servants were then ordered to go with the blue dog to Dragondel's castle. Among these servants, disguised as a kitchen lad, was the Prince; for he had determined to see if there was not some way in which the young Queen could be rescued from the wicked magician.
The boat neared the island, but no terrible whirlpool formed in the enchanted sea. At last the boat reached Dragondel's castle. It stood on the top of a high lonely rock against whose steep sides the waves of the underground ocean were forever foaming and breaking, and it was half in ruins and was very poorly lighted.
The Prince took his place in the kitchen, and sought for an opportunity to prevent the marriage of Dragondel and the Queen.
For four days of the precious week, however, the poor Prince was kept so busy baking and making pastries for the coming of the bride that he did not have an instant to ask questions or do anything else.
In the morning hours of the fifth day there was a terrible moaning and roaring outside, and the cooks rushed to the kitchen windows. An unhappy fishing boat had been swept by the wind too near Dragondel's castle, the enchanted whirlpool had formed, and caught the boat in its awful circle. Now it went slowly round the outer edge, now, going faster and faster, it slid down the side of the awful funnel, and finally it vanished. An instant later, the whirlpool had disappeared, leaving the sea roaring and foaming.
The Prince shuddered.
"Well you may shudder," said the chief cook, "for such would have been your fate if our master's brother had not carried with him the talisman which rules the whirlpool."
"Talisman? What talisman?" said the Prince affecting stupidity.
"Why the little golden hand, you fool," said the chief cook.
"My! it must be a great big hand to be able to quiet that whirlpool," said the Prince.
"Big indeed, you ninny!" growled the cook. "Why, the magic hand is only as big as a baby's hand. I've seen it many times. The master carries it in his pocket, and puts it under his pillow while he sleeps."
So, later on, when his work was done, and everybody had gone to bed, the Prince, in the hope of stealing the talisman, tried to make his way to Dragondel's bedchamber. But when he reached the foot of the stairs which led to the Enchanter's room, he found it guarded by two black panthers which stared at him with insolent yellow eyes and switched their long tails. The Prince went outdoors, to see if there was any hope of climbing to the room along the outer wall, and found that the windows of Dragondel's chamber overlooked a cliff falling thousands of feet sheer to the dark sea. Far, far away, the Prince saw the glow of Lantern Land. Only a short time remained to him in which to save his beloved lady of the lanterns.
As he wandered about, very sick at heart, he saw a little black cat running madly back and forth along the edge of a steep cliff from one of whose crevices came a persistent, unhappy mewing. The poor cat was a mother-cat, and was trying to rescue a kitten of hers that had fallen down between the rocks. At great risk of being dashed to pieces himself, the brave Prince climbed down the precipice, rescued the kitten, and gave it back to its anxious mother.
"Thank you, brave youth," said the old cat.
"May it some day be within my power to help you as you have helped me."
"You can help me this very moment," said the Prince. And he told the cat who he was, why he had come to the castle, and of his desire to get possession of the talisman.
"I will help you get the talisman," said the cat. "The panthers will let me pass, for they are cousins of mine. But you must make another little golden hand to take the place of the one I shall steal; for if Dragondel misses the golden hand, he will summon his demons to find it, and we shall both lose our lives. Go now to the kitchen, carve a small hand with the fingers close together and the thumb lying close to the fingers, gild it over with the gold dust you have had given you for the pastry icings, and bring it to me tomorrow night at this very hour."
So the Prince worked the rest of the night carving and gilding the little golden hand, and on the next night he gave it to the cat. The cat took it in her mouth as she would have a mouse, walked coolly by the panthers, and entered Dragondel's room. She had just succeeded in getting the true hand out from under the magician's pillow when Dragondel woke up. The cat was clever enough to pretend to be engaged in a mouse-hunt, so the Enchanter paid no attention to her and fell asleep once more. When the cat, however, got under Dragondel's couch again, the two hands lay side by side and she could not remember just which one was the talisman and which one the false hand. So because she had to act quickly, she put one of the hands under the pillow, brought the other to the Prince and told him her story. But so well matched were the little hands, that even the Prince was far from certain that he had not got his own hand back again.
And now came the seventh day, the day on which Dragondel, the blue dog, and all the wicked Enchanter's friends were to sail to Lantern Land for the marriage ceremony. The iron ship, made gay with a thousand small scarlet lanterns, stood ready to carry them over. The Enchanter and his company got in, and the vessel left the island.
The Prince stood watching the ship from the top of the cliffs. What anxiety was in his heart! If Dragondel still possessed the true talisman, he would cross the whirlpool safely, and marry the beautiful Queen of Lantern Land.
The vessel sped on. It was now at some distance from the island.
"All is lost," thought the Prince with a sinking heart; "Dragondel has the true talisman." And in his bitterness he was about to throw the little golden hand which lay in his pocket down into the sea.
Suddenly the air became filled with a terrible moaning; the sea became troubled; the whirlpool awoke. And the Prince saw the red lights of the Enchanter's ship whirled round and round, faster and faster, till they disappeared forever in the waters of the sunless sea.
As for the Prince, he soon found another boat, and taking with him the talisman, his fellow servants, and the black cat and her kittens, he returned to Lantern Land, married the Queen, and lived happily ever after.
THE ADVENTURES OF FLORIAN
Once upon a time there lived in an old and ruinous house by the shore of the wild sea, a widowed nobleman and his only child, a daughter named Isabella. They were very poor in spite of their high birth, so poor that one by one the fields and woods of their little domain had been sold in order to buy the bare necessities of life. Knowing that his death would leave Isabella quite alone in the world and practically penniless, her father brought her up more like a boy than a girl; she could ride a horse as gracefully as an Amazon, she could swim like a born mermaid, and even outdo her father in his favorite sport of fencing. Yet so sweet was the gentle nature which the girl had inherited from her mother, that this strange upbringing never spoiled her in the least.
Late one October evening, when the fierce gusts of wind from the sea shook the old house to its very foundation and set the ragged tapestries swaying on the walls, Isabella's father died, leaving her only the ruinous house, a handful of copper pence, and a single golden florin. The sum of money was enough to keep body and soul together for a few weeks, but what was Isabella to do when the little pittance was gone? Her father had once counseled her to go to the King and ask for his protection; but the King's castle was hundreds of miles distant, and Isabella shrank from begging or the highway.
At last the brave girl resolved to make her own way in the world. Taking the golden florin with her, she went to a neighboring town, and purchased a suit of clothes such as pages and squires wear who are in the service of noblemen. She then caused her black hair to be cut short, boy-fashion, put on the boy's clothes she had purchased, and went into the market-place to see if she could not find a situation in the service of some great family.
Now, it was the custom in those days for masters and servants to meet by a fountain in the market-place, the masters who were in need of servants standing on one side of the fountain, the servants who were in search of masters on the other.
When Isabella came into the market-place, there was no one standing on the masters' side of the fountain, but on the other side, ready for the first master who should appear, was a little group of noisy and impudent squires and pages. Isabella, or, as she now called herself, Florian, strode boldly over and joined this group, her heart beating high with the thrill of the great adventure.
Suddenly a black knight, mounted on a black horse and leading another horse by the bridle, clattered over the cobble-stones of the square, and taking his place by the fountain, called on the pages to come to him. In spite of the horseman's summons, however, the pages paid no attention to him at all. Curious to know the reason of this disdain, Florian questioned a fellow page, and was told that the knight was no other than the Enchanter of the Black Rock, and that no page or squire would take service with him because his castle was haunted by goblins, ghosts, and all manner of terrifying spirits.
Now, Florian was no coward, and, as the saying is, beggars cannot be choosers. So, much to the astonishment of the pages, Florian walked over to the Enchanter, who sat fuming with anger and impatience, and offered to go with him. The Knight bade Florian mount the horse which he was holding; and amid the cat-calls and hooting of the pages, master and boy galloped away.
All day long they rode, and when it was near the end of the afternoon Florian found himself at the edge of a wild and desolate moor. Within the great circle of the horizon, under the pale sky, not a tree, not a house, not a shepherd's hut even was to be seen--nothing but the great barren waste rolling, rising and falling to the very edge of the world. Lower and lower sank the sun; it grew cold, and a blue mist fell. Twilight came, a green, mysterious twilight.
Suddenly, from a hillock of the moor, Florian beheld afar the enchanted dwelling. A great sunken marsh lay before him, beginning at the foot of the little hill and stretching away, league after league, till its farther shore was hidden in the gathering darkness. The autumn wind stirred the dead sedges at its brim, and though the dying twilight was still gleaming in the sky, the great bog had caught little of its glow, and lay full of coiling blue mists, pale quagmires, and islands of mysterious darkness. A dreadful moaning cry, uttered by some demon of the moor, sounded through the mist, chilling the blood in Florian's veins; and as if in answer to the cry, thousands upon thousands of will-o'-the-wisps appeared, darting and dancing. In the very heart of this terrible marsh a great black rock uprose, and on this rock, its turrets and battlements outlined against the burning face of the moon, stood the castle. Ghostly lights, now green, now blue, flickered in its windows.
The Enchanter reined up his horse at the brink of the mire, and cried,--
"List! List! Will-o'-the-Wisp, Lend me your light."
Scarcely had the last word fallen from the Enchanter's mouth, when the dancing witch-fires hurried toward him from all sides of the marsh. Soon a pale road leading across the bog to the castle stood revealed, an enchanted road which melted away behind the riders as smoke melts into the winter air. To the very gates of his castle did the ghost-fires accompany the Enchanter; then, rising swiftly high into the air, they fled like startled birds, in every direction.
Doors opened of their own will, strange goblins and ghostly creatures passed, and bright, whirling globes of fire fled hissing across the castle courtyard. Just as they were about to enter the castle its
"The Prince must be preserved from the things which cause sneezing," said the doctor sagely.
"Such as draughts?" suggested the King.
"Draughts, head-colds, snuff, and pepper," answered the leech. "Let his little highness be put into a special suite of rooms; admit no person to them until he has been examined for head-cold, and has put on germ-proof garments; and as his little highness grows older, forbid the use of pepper in his food. Better still, if Your Majesty has a castle in the mountains, let the Prince be taken there for the sake of the purer air."
"There is the tower on the Golden Mountain," said the King.
At this the Queen began to weep again, for she, quite naturally, did not wish to part with her child.
"But, my dear, we can't have him sneezing, and things changing all the time," said the King.
"I beg Your Majesty to consider the danger of a head-cold," put in the doctor.
"Yes, think of the danger of a head-cold," echoed the King, who saw clearer than the Queen the chaos that might result if the Prince was attacked by a prolonged fit of sneezing. "People with head-colds may sneeze ten or fifteen times a day."
"Or fifty," said the doctor.
"Or fifty," echoed the King again, shaking his head, for he was torn between paternal love and kingly duty. "Imagine fifty enchantments in a day! By eventide the whole kingdom would be upset, undone, and the people plotting a revolution."
"The tower on the Golden Mountain is in a fine healthful locality," said the doctor, "and the Prince could be brought up as happily there as in the palace."
So at length the Queen consented. In a few days the little Prince, who had not sneezed a second time, was removed to the tower on the Golden Mountain. His room, designed by Doctor Pill, was completely protected from draughts, and every breath of air that entered it was tri-bi-sterilized. Mrs. Pill, who had been a hospital nurse, took care of him. Three times a week, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, his royal parents rode out to the tower, and after putting on germ-proof garments, were admitted to the nursery of their infant son.
And so the years went by. Nobody was found able to break Malvolia's spell, and the clue to its undoing had been carried away by the wind. Malvolia herself had disappeared.
The Prince became a handsome little boy. Accomplished teachers taught him history, music, drawing, dancing, and all the other things that a prince ought to know. But of real life he knew almost nothing at all.
His most faithful friend during these lonely years was a French poodle, who spoke both French and English exceedingly well. Of course, he had a marked canine accent, rather growling his g's and howling the aw's and the ow's, but his words were well chosen and his vocabulary extensive. Never was seen a more friendly, wise, and devoted animal.
When the King decided to have him sent away for a while, for he feared that his son was getting a touch of Poldo's barky manner of speaking, from too close an association, the little Prince became really ill from grief, and the King was forced to alter his decision.
During his imprisonment in the tower, in spite of all precautions, the Prince sneezed three times. At the first sneeze, all the dogs in the kingdom except Poldo changed into cats, and all the cats into dogs. Though this was not a serious trouble, the change was certainly inconvenient. All the dog-cats came out meowing at people as the dogs used to bark at them, and they chased people down the street; the cat-dogs, on the other hand, stayed in the kitchen under the stove, and watched for mice in the pantry. Great St. Bernards might be seen licking their paws and rubbing them over their foreheads, and fat, old cat-lap-dogs used to try to purr.
At the second sneeze, all the elderly gentlemen over seventy changed into elm trees, a proceeding that caused a terrible lot of trouble.
At the third sneeze, all the people in the pictures at the Art Museum became alive, and for a week the soldiers of the royal guard spent most of their time rescuing poor, bewildered fauns, satyrs, nymphs, Roman senators, and long dead celebrities and historical personages from the worst destitution. The King finally had to build a special castle for them.
As the Prince's twenty-first birthday drew near, he began to feel very sad at the idea of having to stay shut up in the tower all his life. Though he was a very brave and very manly young man, he lay down on his couch and wept in sorrow.
Suddenly, standing with his forepaws on the coverlet, "Why do you weep, dear master?" said the little dog.
"At my fate," replied the poor Prince. "I cannot bear to think that I may have to spend all my days in this tower, and never see the great wide world."
The poodle was silent for a few minutes. At length he said, "Dear Prince Rolandor, do not give up hope. Have you ever thought of consulting my old master, the Giant of the North Pole? He has a large chest in his palace full of secrets which the winds have overheard, and perhaps the key to Malvolia's spell is among them. If you will have a warm fur coat and four fur boots made for me, I will go to the Giant and ask him."
The Prince gave his consent, and on the next day the royal tailor made the poodle a magnificent sealskin coat and four splendid fur-lined boots. Then the King wished him good speed, the Queen cried over him, and the Prince, who could see from his high tower every corner of the kingdom, watched him till he disappeared over the hills and far away.
Straight north the poodle ran. Soon he had left the fertile plains behind him, and entered great, black pine forests where never a road was to be seen. The cold wind howled through the trees, and at night the brilliant stars sparkled over the dark and waving branches. Hungry wolves and savage bears often pursued him, but somehow he always managed to escape them all. At the end of the forest he found the frozen ocean lit by the shuddering light of the aurora, flashing in a great fan from east to west. Past white-tusked walruses and sleepy penguins he flew, till on the eleventh day he saw the green, icy pinnacles of the Giant's palace against the waving curtain of the Polar lights. On the evening of the twelfth day he entered the castle.
The Giant of the North Pole was a tall, strong, yellow-haired fellow wearing a crown of ice and a great sweeping mantle made from the white fur of the polar bear. His servants were the Gusts,--strange, supple, shadowy creatures moving quickly to and fro,--and his courtiers were the whirlwinds and the storms. The Giant's wife sat by his side; she had dark hair and eyes of icy, burning blue.
"Welcome, little Poldo," said the Giant; and his voice sounded like the wind in the treetops; "what seek you here?"
"I seek some words of the Fairy Malvolia which were carried away by the northeast wind at Prince Rolandor's christening," replied the poodle.
"Whew, oo-oo," whistled the Giant of the North Pole. "If I have them, the words are yours."
He summoned two Gusts to bring forth the chest of secrets. It was made of black stone; and edged with diamonds of ice. In it were stored all the mysteries which the wind had ever overheard; there were secrets, confessions, vows, merry laughs, and simple words. And sure enough, in the corner of the chest lay the rest of Malvolia's spell--a row of little, old-fashioned, dusty words; the words: "Until he finds someone brave enough to marry him."
So the good poodle learned the words by heart, thanked the Giant, and hurried home with the message. When he came to the King's palace, he ran, barking with joy, right into the King's own room. There he saw the unhappy parents.
"Have you found the last of the sentence?" cried the Queen.
"Yes," said Poldo. "The spell will end when the prince marries."
That very evening the King and the Queen sent forth ambassadors to ask for the hand of the loveliest princess of all Fairyland, Princess Adatha of the Adamant Mountains. But so afraid was Adatha of being turned into something else, that she refused the offer.
The King and the Queen then made a request for the hand of Princess Alicia of the Crystal Lakes. But Alicia also was afraid of being turned into something else, and she too refused the alliance. So did the Princess of the Golden Coasts, the Princess of the Seven Cities, and many others. Finally the only princess left in all Fairyland was a princess who herself lay under an enchantment. A jealous witch had turned her golden hair bright blue, and given her a nose a foot long. This unhappy maiden was the only princess willing to accept poor Rolandor.
The wedding day arrived. The Prince, though perhaps a little pale from his confined life, looked very handsome, and led his ugly bride to the altar like a man. Just exactly as the marriage ceremony was half over, a spasm contorted the muscles of the Prince's face; the poor young man felt strongly inclined to sneeze. Though he could be seen making heroic efforts to control the impulse, the audience got very nervous and panicky.
All was in vain! The Prince sneezed, "Ker choo!" A terrific clap of thunder rent the air, and everybody looked about to see what had happened.
The effect of the sneeze was an odd one. As it had occurred exactly at the moment when the Prince was half-married, the spell had reacted upon itself. "Just like a kick from a gun," Dr. Pill said next day.
The cats became dogs again, and the dogs became cats; the elm trees became cross, elderly gentlemen looking for their families; the poor, excited Roman senators, fauns, nymphs, satyrs, celebrities and historical personages, went back to their pictures; and to cap the climax, the ugly bride became once more her sweet and lovely self.
While everybody was cheering, who should walk out of the sacristy but the Court Astrologer! An instant later, he had fallen into the affectionate arms of the faithful wife who had wound him up for twenty-one years.
After the wedding reception, the Prince and his bride went on a honeymoon to the Enchanted Islands. As for Poldo the poodle, he was created Prime Minister and lived to a fine old age.
MARIANNA
Once upon a time a wicked nobleman rose in rebellion against his rightful king, and taking the royal forces by surprise, defeated them and seized the kingdom. The dethroned King, who had been severely wounded in battle, was cast in prison, where he soon died; but his widow, the Queen, managed to escape from the palace before the usurper could lay hands upon her.
Into the dark forest which lay behind the palace ran the Queen, holding her baby daughter in her arms. It was winter time, and a heavy snow had hidden the foot-paths and the roads. Presently the Queen realized that she was lost. All afternoon, however, she trudged bravely on through the silence and the cold, her heart sinking as mile after mile revealed no sign of a house or a shelter.
But late in the afternoon, when the red shield of the sun could scarcely be seen through the tangle of the wild wood-branches, she perceived a light coming from a little grove of cedars by the shore of a frozen lake. The Queen made her way toward this light, and discovered a little thatched hut in the silent wood; it was the house of one of the dwarfs of the forest. The dwarf took pity on the Queen, but his efforts were vain, for the poor woman was so weak and exhausted that she died without telling the dwarf anything about herself or the child she carried.
So the little dwarf, who was a good, kind old fellow, brought the little girl up as if she were his own child. His brother, the dwarf of the mountain, made her the prettiest red-leather shoes, and his cousins, the dwarfs of the pines, made the little girl dresses from cloth woven on fairy looms.
Now, on the night her mother brought her to the hut, the little girl was wearing a golden heart-shaped locket, with a crown and the letter M upon it in diamonds. So the dwarf called the little girl Marianna.
Seventeen years passed, and Marianna grew to be quite the loveliest lass in all the world. Her hair was as black as the raven's wing, her eyes were as blue as the midsummer sea, and her skin was fair as the petal of a rose. One spring morning a little yellow bird flew into the cedar grove, and gave the dwarf a letter which it held in its beak.
The dwarf read the letter, and said to Marianna, "Little Marianna, the Emperor of the Elves has bidden me come to the great assembly of the dwarfs which is to be held next year on the Golden Mountain. Alas, what are we to do? I can not take you with me, dear child, for it is forbidden on pain of death to bring mortals to the assembly, nor can I leave you here in this lonely wood."
To this Marianna replied, "Do not fear, dear father. Give me but yon crystal flask of the water of healing, and I shall go forth into the world until it is time for you to return again. Perhaps I shall discover somebody who can tell me the meaning of this locket, or the history of my dear mother."
So the dwarf took his knotted staff, and went away over hill, over dale to the Golden Mountain.
Then Marianna took the crystal flask of the water of healing, and walked boldly out of the wood into the wide, wide world. It was the middle of the spring, the ice and snow had all disappeared; the trees were putting forth their leaves, and there were clusters of primroses by the roadside. In the swaying, rustling heart of a great elm tree, a little thrush was singing. Through cities and towns went lovely Marianna, bringing good cheer to the helpless and the sick, and curing all who came to her, rich and poor, with the wonderful water of healing. But never did she find anybody who could tell her about the gold heart with the diamond crown.
Now it came to pass that, as Marianna was one day walking through a village in the heart of the Adamant Mountains, a ragged old woman besought her with tears to come to a hamlet which stood at the head of a high and dangerous path. Touched by the old woman's supplication, Marianna followed her to the hamlet, and found in a wretched hut, lying on a wretched bed, a beautiful young peasant girl dying of a fever. So Marianna touched the girl with the water of healing, and in an instant she became well and strong.
"Dear lady," said the peasant girl, pressing Marianna's hand to her lips, "how sweet and kind thou art! Great is the debt I owe thee."
And as the girl poured out her thanks, Marianna heard a faint "chirp, chirp," and looking down, beheld a little yellow bird crouching on the hearthstone. Every now and then he hid his head under his wings and cried unhappily. It was the yellow bird which had brought the message from the Emperor of the Elves.
"Poor little bird," said Marianna, bending down and taking him up in her hands, "why criest thou so mournfully? Who hath done thee harm?"
But the bird uttered only a forlorn little cry, and hid his head again under his wings.
"I found him on the rocks at the mountaintop yesterday," said the mother. "Someone has wounded him. His wing is broken."
And she put the bird on the floor of the house and bade Marianna watch how he fluttered trailing a wing in the dust. Again Marianna stooped, and picking up the bird, touched the wounded wing with the water of healing. Scarcely had she done so, when the yellow bird burst into a joyous and golden song, and flying to the window, beat madly against the panes. Then the peasant girl threw open the casement, and the yellow bird flew out into the streaming sun.
"He is gone forever," said the peasant girl.
"Nay, he returns," said Marianna, gently, as the yellow bird flew back and perched in the sheltering bower of Marianna's arms. Then, accompanied by the peasant girl and the yellow bird, who flew singing before her, Marianna went down the dangerous path to the high road in the valley. When they reached the foot of the path, the peasant girl cried:--
"Farewell, dear Marianna; may it some day be mine to repay thee!"
Into the world again went Marianna, and with her went the yellow bird. Presently she came to the fairest land which she had ever seen, a land of rolling fields, little hills, and rivers bordered with pale willow trees. This pleasant land, unknown to Marianna, was part of her father's kingdom, and she was really its queen because her father had been the last rightful king.
Now while Marianna had been in the forest, the wicked nobleman who had stolen the kingdom from Marianna's father had died, leaving his brother Garabin in charge of the kingdom and of the interests of his little son, Prince Desire. This Garabin, however, taking advantage of the youth and helplessness of his nephew, had himself assumed the state and airs of king. For some time he had enjoyed undisturbed the possession of his stolen throne; but as Desire grew taller and stronger every year, Garabin began to fear the day when he would be compelled to resign in favor of his nephew.
When the Prince reached his twentieth year, Garabin would certainly have killed him openly had he dared; but, fearing the people, he resolved to use secret methods, and bribed a cruel magician to afflict poor Desire with a deadly and mysterious malady. Of this malady, Desire was slowly dying, for no medicine could cure him or even give him any relief from his constant pain. Every morning the cruel Garabin, in the hope of finding his nephew dead, would go to the sick room; and you may be sure that his wicked heart rejoiced when he found the Prince weaker and more feverish.
Garabin had just returned from a visit to the Prince, who was rapidly failing, when the Captain of the Castle Guard came to him with the news that the wonderful Marianna had arrived in the kingdom. The King gave orders that she be brought before him. So Marianna, walking between two halberdiers and followed across the courtyard by crowds of curious people, was led before the King. The little yellow bird sat on Marianna's shoulder, and never did maiden appear lovelier or more gentle.
Scarcely had Garabin set eyes on Marianna, when he caught sight of the golden locket which she wore about her neck. Had he not been very old and crafty, he would have started from his golden throne, for he knew that the little golden heart set with diamonds had been one of the crown jewels, and that therefore Marianna must be the missing Princess, and rightful queen of the kingdom.
What was he to do? If he refused to let Marianna help the Prince, the people might begin to suspect him, and start a revolution which would thrust him from his throne; if he allowed Marianna to cure the Prince, the Prince would certainly demand the kingdom on his twenty-first birthday. What was he to do with Marianna, whose right to the throne was superior even to his nephew's? Perplexed, and with fear in his heart, the King sought the cruel magician who had cast the spell on Desire.
The magician lived in a gloomy tower, and had an enchanted black dog that he fed with flaming coals. He listened to Garabin's story, stirring a great cauldron all the while, and said, "Do not fear. I will destroy both claimants to the throne at once."
Garabin rubbed his hands together with glee.
"To-night I shall cast a spell of sleep on Marianna, steal the crystal flask, empty it of the water of healing, and refill it with a liquid which will cause death within a night and a day. I shall then replace the flask before Marianna wakes. You will allow Marianna to visit the Prince; she will touch him with the deadly water, and the Prince will die. You can then try Marianna for having killed the Prince, and condemn her to be thrown from the precipice."
So pleased was Garabin with this horrid plot, that he could have danced for joy. That very night, the magician filled Marianna's flask with the poisonous water, and departed, thinking that nobody had noticed him. The yellow bird, however, had seen everything, and followed the magician to note where he hid the real water of healing.
The next morning Marianna was once more led before the King.
"Welcome, thrice welcome, lovely maiden," said Garabin with the most dreadful hypocrisy. "I have long hoped that you would turn your footsteps hither, for my poor dear nephew, Prince Desire, only son of the late King, has been ill for some months of a malady no physician can cure. Perhaps you can cure him with the water of healing."
Marianna replied that she would do her best to help the Prince; so the Court Chamberlain gave her his arm, and escorted her to the Prince's sick room. The King and many courtiers followed after him.
Desire lay in a great old-fashioned bed, his face flushed with fever. So weak was the poor Prince, that he could scarcely lift his head to look at his visitors. A great pity swept over Marianna's heart the instant she saw him; as for Desire, he fell madly in love with Marianna at first sight.
Now just as Marianna bent over the Prince to touch his forehead with the water of healing, the yellow bird screamed and cried as madly as if he were caught in a net. Marianna looked at the crystal flask. Nothing seemed changed; the water within seemed as pure and diamond-like as ever. She touched the Prince with the liquid. Alas, in a moment, so terrible was the magician's poison that the Prince turned white as the driven snow, and fell back on the pillows insensible. The lookers-on, who had expected to see him spring up entirely cured, began to murmur, and Marianna herself, terrified at what had happened, let fall the flask, which broke into a thousand sparkling pieces.
Suddenly, Garabin cried at the top of his voice, "Seize the witch; she has killed the Prince!"
Presently there was a great confusion, rough hands seized Marianna, and somebody caught the yellow bird. The Prince remained insensible on the bed. At high noon, a trial was held, and since the doctors declared that the Prince was dying, Marianna was condemned to be thrown from the precipice. When somebody asked about the yellow bird, Garabin laughed, and gave orders that the cook should wring its neck, and toss it to the cat.
So Marianna was hurried to a dark prison-room and loaded with chains, and the yellow bird was taken to the castle kitchen, and given to the cook.
"Here, you wring its neck," said the cook to one of her helpers, "while I go call the cat."
By great good fortune, the cook's helper was no other than the peasant girl whom Marianna had saved. This girl recognized the yellow bird, and instead of wringing its neck, let it fly out of the window. The yellow bird flew to the window of the magician's room. The magician was in the chamber, stirring the giant cauldron. The bird flew to the window of Prince Desire's room, and saw that he was still insensible.
An hour later the castle-bell began to toll, and a dismal procession was seen walking from the castle toward the frightful cliff from which condemned witches and sorcerers were thrown. First came a troop of soldiers, then Marianna, weighted down with chains, and last of all, a little group in which were Garabin, the magician, and some of Garabin's favorites.
The bell kept on sadly tolling and tolling. It roused the Prince from his swoon, and with his last measure of strength, poor Desire dragged himself to the window. The procession was then passing directly underneath the window, and Desire's eyes met the eyes of Marianna.
"Stop! Stop!" cried the poor Prince, wildly; "I forbid--"
An instant later he sank fainting to the floor. The procession went on.
Meanwhile the yellow bird had returned to the magician's chamber. It was empty. With a joyous cry, the bird fluttered through the window-bars, and discovered the phial into which the magician had poured the water of healing. Clutching it in his claws, the bird flew once more to the Prince's room. Desire still lay in a heap by the window, and over him the yellow bird poured the contents of the phial.
The Prince sprang up, strong as a lion, seized his sword, and rushed down to save Marianna. He arrived at the cliff just as the poor maiden was about to be pushed off into space, and standing by her side, dared anyone to lay hands upon her.
Garabin, seeing his precious plot miscarry, grew mad with rage.
"Seize them," cried he, "and toss them both over the precipice!"
So the soldiers rushed at Marianna and the Prince, intending to carry out their wicked master's orders. But even as they did so, there came a flash of flame and the little dwarf, Marianna's foster-father, took his place beside the lovers.
"Cruel King!" cried the dwarf sternly, "and thou, wicked and perfidious magician, the hour of thy punishment is at hand."
Immediately the sky grew black, the lightning crashed, and there arose a terrible, howling wind. Three giant gusts drove fiercely by, the first one blowing the King and the magician head-over-heels over the precipice, the second carrying away the soldiers, and the third the rascally favorites. When the sky cleared, only the dwarf, Marianna, and Desire were left of the company.
"Marianna," said the little dwarf, "the Emperor of the Elves has told me all your history, and it is thanks to him that I have returned in time, with the storm at my heels. You, Marianna, are the rightful Queen of this country."
"Dear Queen," said the honest and gallant Desire, "let me be the first of your subjects to salute you." And he knelt before her, and humbly kissed her hand.
"Nay, Prince," said the young Queen, answering the adoring look in her lover's eyes, "your father took the kingdom; if I were you, I should take the Queen."
Which was a bit forward, of course, but nobody minded that very much in those fairy times.
So Desire and Marianna were married, and lived happily ever after. The yellow bird went to the wedding, and when the ceremony was over rose singing into the air, and flew joyously home to the land of the Elves.
THE LOST HALF-HOUR
Once upon a time there was an old widow woman who had three sons: the first two were clever enough, but the third, Bobo by name, was little better than a silly simpleton. All his mother's scoldings and beatings--and she smacked the poor lad soundly a dozen times a day--did him no good whatever.
Now it came to pass that one morning Princess Zenza, the ruler of the land, happened to pass by the cottage and heard Bobo being given a terrible tongue-lashing. Curious as to the cause of all the noise, the Princess drew rein, and summoned Bobo's mother to come near. On hearing her story, it occurred to the Princess that so silly a lad might amuse her; so she gave the mother a golden florin, and took poor silly Bobo with her to be her page.
Just as the dragon's mouth was at, its widest ....
You may be sure that it did not take the wise folk at the castle long to discover how great a simpleton had arrived. Courtiers, footmen, lackeys, turnspits even, were forever sending him off on ridiculous errands. Now he would be sent to find a white craw's feather or a spray of yellow bluebells; now he was ordered to look for a square wheel or a glass of dry water. Everybody laughed at him and made fun of him--that is, everybody except little Tilda, the kitchen-maid. When poor Bobo used to return from some wild-goose chase, tired out, mud-stained, and often enough wet to the skin, instead of laughing, little Tilda would find him a glass of warm milk, hang his coat by the fire to dry, and tell him not to be such a simpleton again. Thus, after a while, Bobo learned to ask Tilda's advice before going away on a wild-goose chase, and was in this way saved from many a jest.
Tilda, the kitchen-maid, was as sweet and pretty as she was kind and good. She was said to be the daughter of an old crane who had come to the castle one day, asking for help.
One pleasant mid-summer morning, when Bobo had been nearly a year at the castle, Princess Zenza overslept half an hour and did not come down to breakfast at the usual time. When she did get up, she found her court waiting for her in the castle gardens. As she came down the steps of the garden terrace, the Princess looked up at the castle clock to see how late she was, and said to her lady in waiting,--
"Dear me--why, I've lost half an hour this morning!"
At these words, Bobo, who was in attendance, pricked up his ears and said,--
"Please, Your Highness, perhaps I can find it."
At this idea of finding a lost half-hour, the Princess laughed, and found herself echoed by the company.
"Shall we send Bobo in search of the lost half-hour?" said the Princess to the courtiers.
"Yes! Yes!" cried the courtiers. "Bobo shall look for the lost half-hour."
"I'll give him a horse," said one. "I'll give him my old hat," said another. "He can have an old sword I broke last week," said still another.
And so, in less time than it takes to tell about it, poor simpleton Bobo was made ready for his journey.
Before he left the castle, Bobo went down to the kitchen to say good-bye to Tilda.
"What, off again?" said the little kitchen-maid. "Where are you going now?"
"The Princess has lost a half-hour and I am going in search of it," said Bobo, proudly. And he told how the Princess herself had commanded him to seek the half-hour through the world, and promised to bring Tilda a splendid present when he returned.
The good kitchen-maid said little, for she feared lest some misadventure overtake the poor simpleton; but when the chief cook was not looking, she tucked a fresh currant-bun into Bobo's pocket, and wished him the best of good fortune.
So Bobo went to the castle gate, and mounted his horse, which stumbled and was blind in one eye.
"Good-bye, Bobo," cried the assembled courtiers, who were almost beside themselves with laughter at the simpleton and his errand. "Don't fail to bring back the lost half-hour!"
So Bobo rode over the hills and far away. Every now and then he would stop a passer-by and ask him if he had seen a lost half-hour.
The first person whom he thus questioned was an old man who was wandering down the high road that leads from the Kingdom of the East to the Kingdom of the West.
"A lost half-hour?" said the old man. "I've lost something much more serious, I've lost my reputation. You have n't seen a lost reputation lying about here, have you? It was very dignified and wore tortoise-shell glasses."
But Bobo had to answer "No," and the old man wandered on again.
Another day the simpleton encountered a tall, dark, fierce kind of fellow, who answered his polite question with a scream of rage.
"A half-hour," he roared. "No, I have n't seen your half-hour; I would n't tell you if I had; what's more, I don't want to see it. I'm looking for something I've lost myself. I've lost my temper. I lost it two years ago at home, and have n't been able to find it anywhere since. Answer me, you silly, have you seen a lost temper anywhere? It's about the size of a large melon and has sharp little points."
On Bobo's answering "No," this dreadful person uttered so perfectly awful a screech of rage, that Bobo's horse took fright and ran away with him, and it was all that Bobo could do to rein him in three miles farther down the road.
Still farther along, Bobo came to Zizz, the capital city of the Kingdom of the Seven Brooks, and was taken before the King himself.
"A lost half-hour?" said the King. "No, I am quite sure it has not
The Master Mariner's vessel came riding into the port; the watchers saw her drop anchor, saw the boats being lowered, and the sailors coming ashore. Soon the pirates and the sailors were at it hammer and tongs; a ceaseless clack clack of steel beating upon steel rose to the turrets of the palace; there were dreadful duels in the alleyways and battles in the public squares. Alas! just as the sailors were carrying the day, the Master Mariner received a blow on the head which knocked him insensible, and the mariners, disorganized by the loss of their chief, were soon surrounded and taken prisoners. Then, taking heart, the pirates rushed the palace, and burst open the doors.
When the rogues had taken everything on which they could lay their hands, they brought the prisoners and the plunder to the marketplace.
"Shall we bind all these people and take them aboard?" asked a pirate.
"No!" roared the one-eyed pirate chief. "Take only the Princess and that rogue of a Master Mariner."
The people now began to cry, "Oh, don't take the Princess, our dear Princess!" But all their prayers were useless.
Now, because the Master Mariner's ship was far more swift and beautiful than the pirate ship, the pirates, after setting fire to their own vessel, abandoned her, and put their plunder on board the Master Mariner's vessel. The following morning, leaving the people of Silk Land robbed and mourning, the pirates sailed away.
Within a few hours, all signs of land had disappeared. The sea was as black as ink. Against the horizon's edge, the great waves were leaping and breaking into foam.
"Bring me the list of booty!" cried the pirate captain, roaring the last word.
So the pirate treasurer came on deck, and read a long list beginning,--
"Fifty-three scarf-pins."
"Hooray!" shouted the pirate crew.
"A hundred and eighty-five sterling silver berry-spoons," next announced the treasurer.
"Hooray!" cried the crew again.
"One thousand clocks!" cried the treasurer.
"How many with alarms?" asked an old pirate anxiously.
There was a strained silence. The treasurer consulted his list.
"Seven hundred and forty-nine," he answered.
"Hooray!" yelled the pirate crew.
When the list had been read (it took very nearly half an hour to do it) the one-eyed captain cried, "Bring forth the Master Mariner!"
So the Master Mariner was brought forth, and thrown brutally against a mast. The pirate chief put his arms akimbo, cleared his throat savagely, and roared, "So you thought you were going to punish me, did you! Well, I'll show you what happens to people who upset my plans. Here, Hawk Eye, and you, Toby, throw this fellow overboard."
Hearing this awful order, the Princess screamed and would have run to the Master Mariner, had not rude hands restrained her.
Splash! the Mariner fell into the inky sea. Swift as a bird, his own ship went by him; he saw the mocking face of the pirate chief leering at him from over the rail; in a few minutes he was alone, all, all alone in the wide, wide sea. For some time he swam about, and by great good luck discovered a log of wood strong enough to bear his weight, floating near at hand. Upon this he climbed, and there we shall leave him for the present.
When the Captain had disappeared from sight miles behind, the pirate chief walked over to the Princess, and looking at her, said sneeringly, "Well, my beauty, are you going to make up your mind to be the wife of the King of the Oyster Mountains? I'm taking you to him, and mind now, no fooling!"
The Princess shrank from him with horror, and as she fell back, the sun gleamed on the silver fish she was wearing at her throat. The chief made a rude snatch at it; the Princess, however, was quicker than he, and hit him a good box on the ear.
"Ow!" cried the chief, dancing up and down with rage. "I'll fix you, you ill-tempered minx. Here, somebody, tie this girl to the mast for the rest of the day, and give her nothing but bread and water."
In obedience to his order, the Princess, with her arms tied by the wrists behind her back, was lashed to the mast. When she had been securely bound, the chief, whose ear was still tingling, took the silver fish. He was looking at it when he saw something which made him drop the fish on the deck.
Out of the forecastle door thick clouds of black mist were rolling, exactly as if the hold of the ship were on fire. For a meddlesome pirate had found the leather bag of storm-wind and had opened it, mistaking it for a bag of wine.
The strange clouds, swirling round the deck, grew instant by instant darker and denser. Soon the tops of the masts could no longer be distinguished. The sun took on a horrible copper hue, and the sea became a mottled black and green. A howling wind arose.
A moment later, with the violence of an explosion, the storm burst. Mountain-high rose the glassy white-capped waves. The lightning fell in violet cataracts, and thunder roared and tumbled through the caverns of the sky. An ocean of hissing rain fell into the waters.
Suddenly the pirate chief, as he staggered down the stairs, shouted, "We are lost!"
Just astern, an enormous, glassy wave, higher than the masts of the ship, was about to break. The pirates yelled, but little good their yelling did them. An instant later the wave broke upon the deck, and crashing tons of green water swept every single pirate into the sea. Slowly, and with the tense struggle of a wounded animal, the good ship lifted itself from the waves.
The Princess was the only human being left on board. Only the cords which bound her to the mast had saved her from being swept away.
Now, when the water swept the deck, the silver fish which lay at the Princess's feet became alive and darted over the rail into the sea.
The storm continued. The helpless Princess expected every minute to sink with the ship into the roaring waters. Suddenly, to her horror, a high rocky island appeared a few miles ahead. Toward this island, over whose cruel reefs the ocean was foaming and breaking, the ship was drifting fast. Tied to the mast, the Princess listened to the terrible cry of the breakers, and, spell-bound, watched the jagged rocks of the island ever drawing nearer.
Now while the Princess was in this terrible situation, the Master Mariner, who had been blown before the storm like a feather, also came in sight of the rocky island. The instant he caught sight of the shore, and heard the roaring of the breakers, he knew that he could not hope to reach the land. He was on the edge of the reefs when the King of the Caves of the Sea, who had been summoned by the silver fish, rose out of the water beside him, and taking him in his webbed hands, swam with him to a place of safety. Just as they reached the shallows, the mists of the tempest parted, and driving through the darkness and the storm, headed for the reefs, came the Master Mariner's ship with the Princess tied to the mast.
"Oh, save her! Save the Princess!" cried the Master Mariner.
The King of the Caves of the Sea stretched out his hands over the island and uttered a strange and mysterious word. So awful was its power that the rocky cliffs split open, forming a safe and sheltered harbor. Into this port came the ship, safe at last as a bird in its nest.
So the Master Mariner, the Princess, and the ship were all wonderfully preserved, and when the storm was over, the King of the Caves saw them home to Silk Land. There the Master Mariner found his crew waiting for him, and in a few days they had rigged new sails for the ship which were even whiter than the old. The inhabitants got back the fifty-three scarf pins, the hundred and eighty-five sterling silver berry-spoons, the thousand clocks, and the rest of the booty which the pirates had stowed away in the Master Mariner's ship.
Great was the rejoicing.
Greater still was the joy, however, when the Master Mariner married the Princess.
THE MARVELOUS DOG AND THE WONDERFUL CAT
Once upon a time there was an old enchanter who taught magic and enchantment to the younger fairies. Year after year, and morning after morning, he was to be found at his school-room in the Fairies' College, standing between his desk and a blackboard, now writing down the spell for turning noses into turnips, now changing sunflower seeds into pearls before the very eyes of his pupils.
The old enchanter liked this life of quiet and study, and doubtless would have been teaching in Fairyland to this very day, had he not been so unfortunate as to quarrel with the terrible sorcerer Zidoc, who was then Lord High Chancellor of the Fairies' College. I have forgotten exactly what the quarrel was about, but I think that it had to do with the best spell for causing castles to fall to pieces in an instant. At any rate, Zidoc, who considered himself quite the most wonderful enchanter in Fairyland, was furious at being opposed, and told the old enchanter, very angrily, that he was not to have his classes any more and must leave the college at once. So the poor old gentleman packed up his magic books, put his enchanter's wand into its silver case, and went to the country one pleasant day in search of a house.
Thanks to the advice of a friendly chimney swift, it did not take him long to find one. The dwelling was the property of the Fairy Jocapa. It stood just off the high road, close by a lane of great oaks whose shiny, fringed leaves glistened in the hot noon-day sun; it had a high roof with sides steep as mountain slopes, and one great chimney; and its second story thrust itself out over the first in the old-fashioned way. Green fields, little hills, and pleasant meadows in which red and white cows were grazing lay behind the dwelling.
Seeing the front door wide open, the enchanter walked in. It was very quiet. Only the far away klingle-klangle of a cow-bell could be heard.
"Here shall I live," said the enchanter. And he brought his possessions to the house.
Now, one autumnal morning, when a blue haze hung over the lonely fields from which the reapers had departed, and the golden leaves were wet underfoot, the old enchanter went for a walk down the lane, and finding the day agreeable, kept on until he found himself in the woods. Arriving at the crest of a little hill in the woodland, he saw below him, almost at the foot of the slope, a countryman with a white puppy and a black kitten following at his heels. The little dog barked merrily out of pure high spirits, whilst the kitten leaped and struck with its tiny paws at the passing white butterflies.
As the old enchanter approached the countryman, he happened to hear him say to the animals,--
"Alas, my poor innocents, what a pity that I should have to abandon you!"
"What's that?" said the enchanter, halting the countryman. "You intend to abandon these helpless creatures?"
"Alas, I must," replied the countryman, pulling a large blue bandanna handkerchief from his pocket and applying it to the corners of his eyes. "We are too poor to be able to feed them, and my children love them so well that I cannot find it in my heart to do them harm. I am taking them into these woods to abandon them, in the hope that, like the wild animals, they will soon learn to shift for themselves."
"Give them to me," said the old enchanter, "I will bring them up." The countryman nodded his head. "As for you, here is a golden florin. May it bring you better fortune."
Thus did the white puppy and black kitten change hands.
Once he had led the animals safely home, the enchanter resolved to make them the most wonderful animals that had ever been seen in the whole wide world, whether in Fairyland or out of it. Being an enchanter, he could, of course, do this more easily than other people. So he taught the cat and the dog all the known languages, then history, arithmetic, dancing, social deportment, and a variety of the best magic and spells. The cat, as was to be expected, was particularly good on anything that had 'cat' in it; he once catalogued all the principal catastrophes; while the dog, although a good student, had a fancy for writing doggerel. Many and many a time, when the enchanter and his wonderful animals were seated in their armchairs round a blazing fire, talking exactly as any three good friends might talk, a nose would flatten itself against the panes, and the three companions would see looking in at them some stranger whose curiosity had got the better of his manners.
The dog, I may say, had grown up to be a fine fellow of the short-haired, white bull terrier family; the cat had grown to be as aristocratic as a panther. When their education was complete, the animals came to their teacher and begged him to let them go away and see the world. For a long time the enchanter, who loved his charges very much indeed, resisted their request; but as they continued to press him, he came at length to yield. Calling them before him, he said to them:--
"Well, dear pupils, if you must go, you must go. I owe the Fairy Jocapa twelve months rent for this house. She is now living with her nephew, the King of the Land of the Runaway Rivers. You shall take twelve golden florins to her. Your route will take you over all the kingdoms of the whole wide world."
So the white dog, who was the stronger of the two, took the purse with the twelve golden coins, and put it in a large wallet which he wore at his side, and then both the wonderful animals said good-bye. At the corner of the lane they turned again to look for the last time at their dwelling, and saw their old master still waving at them from the little window over the door. Then they fared over the hills and far away.
So wise, so well-bred and good-tempered were these wonderful animals, that their journey across the world was a great success from the beginning. Their fame spread from kingdom to kingdom like wild-fire. The universities, colleges, and other learned societies fought with each other for the privilege of entertaining these distinguished students. To this very day, the address which the cat made on catapults and cataplasms, before the professors of the University of Sagessa, is remembered as one of the great events of the time; while the dog's address on dogma before the assembled scholars of the Royal Academy of Fairyland was printed in a special book bound in gold leaf and walpus leather. Both the cat and the dog were awarded countless honorary decorations.
And so, little by little, they came to a hilly land in which all the streams raced pell-mell to the sea, and there they knew themselves to be in the Kingdom of the Runaway Rivers. A three days' journey brought them to the royal castle. Arriving in the twilight, they were somewhat surprised to find a number of torchbearers waiting for them in the castle courtyard. With great respect, these attendants conducted the cat and the dog into a little ante-room, and then retired, leaving them alone. A few minutes later, a very old woman, who, the animals noticed, was stone-blind, came to take them before the king.
"How strange!" whispered the cat in its rather meouw-y voice.
"Very," whispered back the dog in his deeper tone.
Having opened, one after the other, three great doors with three different iron keys, the old woman, guiding herself by touching the wall with her hand, led the animals into a long dark corridor. The cat, who could see quite well in the dark, did not mind this, but the dog was not particularly pleased. The echoes of the old woman's boots went rolling along in the hollow darkness; the dog could hear his heart beat, and saw his black companion's eyes glowing like pools of flame. Then, to their mutual relief, the animals saw a point of light appearing far down the passage, and on reaching this, they discovered a second blind old woman holding a torch. The first old woman beckoned them to follow this new guide, and disappeared again into the dark corridors by which they had arrived.
The second old woman, lifting high the torch, first led her charges through three more great doors, all of which she carefully locked behind her. Soon the animals found themselves at the top of a winding stair whose end was lost in darkness. Down this stair they went, turning, ever turning, down and round, down and round, till both cat and dog felt dizzily that they must have reached the heart of the earth. Then, little by little, a pin-point of light began to glow brighter and brighter, and the animals found themselves at the foot of the stairs and opposite a little door. And there, by this door, stood another blind old woman, who held a torch and beckoned to the animals to follow.
Three more doors they passed, the last one opening on a very narrow, winding passage. In and out they turned, walking one behind the other, for a time that seemed very, very long. Suddenly a narrow door appeared in the winding wall, which opened inward as they drew near, revealing a beautiful round chamber richly furnished and hung with the finest tapestries. Beside the fireplace, in which a wood-fire was cheerily burning, sat a gray-haired lady, who was no other than the Fairy Jocapa, and in the centre of the room, reading a great book by the light of many candles, sat a young man, the King.
In spite of the enchanter's careful training in manners, the cat and the dog, I am sorry to say, almost stared for an instant at the King. Small wonder that they did so, for the unfortunate young man lay under a horrid spell, and his face and hands were not pink or white or sun-brown, like yours or mine, but bright green, like a parrot's wing!
"Welcome, O wonderful animals," said the enchanted King. "Your fame has gone before you into every land, and it is said that there is no question you cannot answer. Listen, then, to my story and help me if you can.
"You see me before you, hideously changed. Until you entered here, an instant past, no eyes but those of my aunt had beheld my horrible countenance. It was she who caused this enchanted chamber to appear in the heart of the foundations of my castle; and in this chamber I have hidden since that terrible hour when the spell was put upon me. My subjects only know that I am still alive. The Lord Chancellor rules the kingdom in my stead. But hearken to my story.
"Ten months ago, as I was driving my chariot down a narrow road built along a river-bank close to the stream, I encountered a chariot being driven furiously in the opposite direction. The driver of the chariot was a tall, elderly man, wearing a wizard's cap; his face was red as with anger, an evil light gleamed in his small malicious eyes. In order to let him pass, I turned to one side, as near to the river-brink as I dared; but the space was too narrow, our chariots locked wheels, and his was overthrown. Turning upon me a face aflame with hatred, he cried out, 'I will teach you what it is to offend the Enchanter Zidoc'; and an instant later the wizard himself, the struggling horses, and the overturned chariot disappeared in a rumble of thunder and a great flash of flame. I turned homeward, never noticing that anything had happened to me. As I chanced to pass a roadside cottage, a little child playing about saw me and ran, screaming for fear, to the door. A little farther on, I stopped to drink of a spring. Judge of my horror when I leaned over the clear pool of water and saw that my face had turned a bright green! I waited till nightfall, stole into the castle unobserved, and sought the aid of my aunt, the fairy. You know the rest. Speak, O wonderful dog and wonderful cat, and bid me hope a little!"
And the poor King hid his bright green face in his hands.
"The Enchanter Zidoc is an old enemy of our dear master," said the white dog, "and his power as a sorcerer is the greatest in Fairyland!'
"I have tried all my powers against him in vain," said the Fairy Jocapa, sadly.
"But let us not despair," broke in the cat. "Zidoc is now to be found in these dominions. His castle lies on the border of the Silver Hills. The dog and I will go there, and see if we can help the King."
So the Fairy and the unhappy King thanked the wise animals, and sent for the blind old women to lead them back to the upper world. Early next morning, the famous pair began the journey to the Enchanter's den. The dog's plan was to pretend to be but an everyday stray dog, and to this end, he rolled several times in a mud-puddle; the cat, too, was to appear as a stray cat, and neglected his fine black coat in order to look the part.
Unfortunately for their plan, Zidoc had in his chamber a little enchanted bell which rang shrilly when danger threatened him. Hearing the bell ring late at night, Zidoc rose from his bed, and hurrying to the turret window, saw, by the light of the waning moon, the dog and the cat making their way to the castle through the wood. Rubbing his hands with glee, he determined to let the two animals walk headlong into his power, and then inflict upon them some terrible revenge.
The first day the dog went indoors, and concealed himself under a sofa, while the cat remained outside. When twilight came, the dog ran out and met the cat in the castle garden.
"Did you discover anything?" asked the cat.
"Nothing whatever," replied the dog.
"I will try to-morrow," said the cat.
And so, when the morning came, the dog remained outside while the cat concealed himself behind a curtain. When the twilight came, the animals met again.
"Did you discover anything?" asked the dog.
"Very little," replied the cat. "The Sorcerer Serponel is coming to-morrow to pay Zidoc a visit. One of us must hide in the room in which they will talk; for perhaps we may learn something which may help us to lift the spell from the King."
"To-morrow it is my turn," said the dog. And so the next morning he stole into the house and hid again beneath the sofa.
Now Zidoc knew very well where the dog had concealed himself. Moreover, he had summoned the powerful Serponel to his aid in order that the dog and the cat should have no opportunity to escape.
When Serponel arrived, both the wicked enchanters went to the room in which the dog lay concealed. First, Zidoc locked the only door with a great key and then he said to Serponel,--
"Brother, someone tells me that there is an enemy hidden under the sofa."
"Yes, brother," replied the dreadful Serponel.
"And something tells me that it is time to let him feel your staff."
Now Zidoc had an enchanted staff whose blows were mortal, and knowing this, the poor dog, who was trapped between the wall and the two sorcerers, grew cold with fear to the tip of his white tail. Just as he was about to make a bolt into the open, Zidoc dragged the sofa swiftly aside, and aimed a terrible blow at him, which by the greatest good luck just missed its mark. He then ran out into the room, pursued by the sorcerers, who little by little forced him toward a corner.
And now, just as Zidoc, holding the staff uplifted, was about to strike the poor dog with all his force, a black shape, with flaming eyes and paws outstretched to scratch, leaped through the open window and landed upon Zidoc's back. It was the brave cat, who had heard the fracas from his hiding-place below and had clawed his way up the castle wall to help his friend. Valiant Puss, forgetting in one instant, I must admit, all its knowledge of languages, catastrophes, history, social deportment, and agriculture, plunged instantly into the fray, and gave Zidoc a frightful scratch, which so upset him that it caused him to drop his staff, while the dog profiting by the confusion, and forgetting all about geometry, mathematics, agriculture, and dogma, managed to give Serponel a good bite just above the ankle.
The wily Zidoc, however, was not to be so easily thwarted. Uttering a magic word, he caused the room to be filled with darkness, and in the cover of this darkness he transformed himself instantly into a black cat exactly like the learned cat, while Serponel changed himself into a white dog exactly like the learned dog. At the same moment he caused the locked door to fly open.
"Now," thought he, "I will cause the cat to follow the wrong white dog, and the dog to follow the wrong cat; we shall thus separate the animals, and when we have lured them far away from each other, Serponel and I will resume our true forms, and destroy these meddlesome creatures."
When the darkness cleared, the hearts of the true animals fell for fear lest the sorcerer's ruse be successful; but they met the challenge readily, and instead of fleeing, stood their ground; the true dog battling with the false dog, the real cat with the false cat. Never was such a hullaballoo heard in Fairyland. Then, seeing that he was in danger of being badly scratched, Zidoe brought on another darkness, the floor of the castle shook, a noise as of thunder roared and rattled through the room. When the darkness ended, both the enchanters had been separated and the cats were confused, the real dog was chasing the real cat, thinking that he was following Zidoc, while Serponel, who had been the false white dog, was pursuing Zidoc, who had been the false black cat! Down the stairs, over the terraces and the gardens ran the true dog, pursuing the true cat, while indoors, up and down through the rooms and over the furniture, raced the false animals.
The poor cat, thinking he was being pursued by the wrong dog, grew short of breath, and, hearing the snapping at his heels, ran up a convenient tree. Hardly had he reached a point above the dog's jaws when a voice said:--
"Why, my pupils, my pupils! What a way to behave! Stop your quarreling this instant!"
The animals turned to look, and saw their master, the old enchanter. He had been worried by their long absence and had gone forth to look for them. Thus, at the same moment that the poor dog saw that he had been pursuing his friend, the cat saw that he had been escaping from his comrade.
Suddenly a noise from the castle arrested their attention, and on looking up, all saw through the windows the false dog pursuing the false cat down the hall of state.
Now, if you remember the first part of this story, you will recall that Zidoc quarreled with the old enchanter over the right spell for destroying castles. A triumphant smile shone on the lips of the old teacher; he stretched forth his hand toward the castle and uttered a magic word.
There was a roar as of twenty thousand cataracts, and in the twinkling of an eye, the castle collapsed in a cloud of dust, burying the two wicked magicians in its ruins.
"There, I told him so!" said the old enchanter.
When the dog and the cat had recovered from the events of the day, the three friends began their journey back to the palace of the enchanted King. He came to the castle gate to meet them, for Zidoc's overthrow had broken the spell which had so oddly disfigured him. Through the open doors, a splendid banquet could be seen waiting, and the sound of music was heard.
So the old enchanter gave his arm to the Fairy Jocapa, the Prince gave his to the white dog, and the cat followed all by himself. Then came the host of rejoicing courtiers.
When the festival was over, the enchanter and the wonderful animals went back, loaded with royal gifts, to their own little house and lived happily there to a good old age.
THE SHEPHERD OF CLOUDS
Once upon a time a young husband and wife named Giles and Phyllida lived in a cottage in the heart of a great plain. League upon league, the rich land fell away to the west, there to end at a wall of high mountains into whose fastnesses no one had ever ventured. Yet the mountains were very beautiful. In the cold of a clear winter's day, the snowy summits and rust-colored pinnacles shone bright and near at hand; in the spring, fogs hid them, and lay like gray mantles upon the lower slopes. Midway in the mountain wall, a wide chasm marked the entrance to a deep, gloomy valley, out of which a roaring mountain torrent hurried, to lose itself in the plain below. And because somewhere in the heart of this dark valley storms were brewed, whose dark clouds, laden with lightning and hail, poured from between the crags of the valley out over the land, this valley was known as the Valley of Thunder. According to an old legend, out of this valley a king should one day come to rule over the people of the plain.
Giles and Phyllida kept house by themselves. They had two cows, one red and white, the other black and white, a flock of hens, some hives of bees, a white horse, a dog, and a cat. All day long Phyllida worked happily at the household tasks, baking the sweet white bread and marking the fresh golden butter into square pats, while Giles went out to work in the waving grain; and Phyllida, watching from a window, would see the sun flash on the uplifted blade of her husband's scythe.
One day Phyllida said to Giles:--
"I have made a dress for the youngest child of our cousins, Jack and Jill, and this morning I shall saddle the white horse and ride over to their cottage. Perhaps I may stay with them for a few days. You will find a fresh baking of bread and a meat-pie in the larder. Good-bye, Giles; I'll soon be home again."
So Giles answered, "Good-bye," and away rode Phyllida on the white horse.
A few days passed, and Giles, wandering here and there through the quiet house, felt very lonely indeed. Finally he could stand it no longer, and said to himself, "Phyllida must be on her way home now; I shall walk down the highway and meet her."
So he turned all the animals loose in the fields, and putting a few slices of bread and cheese in his pockets, set forth upon the road. Leagues ahead of him stood the mysterious mountains rising palely through the haze of the midsummer afternoon. A pale violet light fell on their distant precipices, and the snow in the rifts upon their sides appeared of the purest and loveliest white. Gusts of wind hurrying from the distant summits swept the great plain, and the fields of ripening wheat bent before them and rustled harshly.
Suddenly, down the throat of the Thunder Valley, Giles saw a river of lightning fall, and from far away came a low murmur of thunder. Then, faster and faster, a storm poured down the chasm like a flood, drowning out the light of the sun, stilling the songs of the little birds, and turning to the sky the pale underside of the leaves of the roadside trees. A darkness as of night itself covered the land. Rain began to fall in great spattering drops. Now, by the glare of the lightning, Giles would see the endless fields, drenched and waving in the rain; now the Thunder Valley itself, covered with a floor of onrushing cloud unfolding, turning, and sinking in continuous and multitudinous activity.
Night came on amid the storm, and a flash of lightning revealed to Giles that he had lost his way. Hoping to find a shelter or some friendly cottage, however, he plunged on; but the road became worse and worse, and he was again and again forced to wade brooks flooded by the tempest. At length his steps led him into a pine wood, and there in the thickest part he found a little shelter, and fell asleep.
When he woke, numb, cramped, and cold, he found to his horror that in the night and darkness he had blundered on into the Valley of Thunder, into which no living soul had ever before advanced. Worst of all, he could not find the way by which he had entered, for high crags rose on every side and held him prisoner. Presently, to his amazement, he beheld a narrow flight of step
Now, when the princesses of the sea had dried their tears, the sailor and his brothers took counsel as to how the Emerald of the Sea might be brought to the King in time to save their father's life. You may judge of the sailor's horror when he discovered that because of a bad error in the calendars and clocks of Sixes and Sevens (a city he had visited in his search for the emerald), the life of his father had been forfeited to the King three days before!
But now we must return to the poor merchant himself.
All the third year the poor man had lain in a small cell in the royal dungeons, waiting anxiously, oh, so anxiously, to hear the quick step of the sailor son on the winding stairs just outside his prison door. But the year came to an end, as you know, without his return. For the third and last time, the castle guards led the poor man before the King. Now the King had never forgiven the merchant for the loss of the jewel; his chagrin, indeed, had increased with the years, and he was very glad that he could at last take his revenge.
"Have you found the Emerald of the Sea?" said the King, harshly. He stood erect on the steps of his judgment-seat, arms folded, eyes fixed in a fierce, black frown.
"No," said the merchant quietly.
"Then you shall seek for it yourself," cried the King. And he gave orders that the merchant be tied hand and foot, and tossed into a little boat without food or drink, and then sent adrift to die helplessly in the lonely seas. And so this awful sentence was carried out.
Bound hand and foot, scarce able to roll from side to side, the merchant lay motionless in his little craft and stared up at the blue sky. Presently a merciful sleep overcame him, and while he slept, a wind arose which swept the little boat along with it.
Meanwhile, on the beautiful island, the sailor and his companions, stunned at their discovery, began preparations to return to the under-waters. Just as the twilight fell, all walked together to the margin of the darkening sea, and advanced into the waves.
Suddenly, the sailor, whose eyes were the keenest, saw a little boat rapidly drifting ashore. Now caught in a current of the shallow beach, it drifted sideways; now propelled by the rising tide, it floated on, bow pointed to the shore. The sailor hurried toward it and seized it. Suddenly he uttered a ringing cry! The old merchant lay on the floor of the boat. He still lived, for they could see him gently breathing. Lifting him up tenderly, the three sons carried him to the shore, unloosed his bonds, and brought him back to life.
Now when the merchant was himself again, the sailor, through the power of the emerald, caused the waves to carry a great ship to the island, and on this ship the three sons, the two princesses, and the old merchant returned to the merchant's country. All landed secretly, however, for they knew that the angry King would seize them if he knew of their return. And so it came to pass that, one night, shortly after the homecoming, word was brought to the sailor that the King had heard of the merchant's escape and was sending guards to arrest the merchant and his companions.
It was almost midnight when the sailor lad received the warning. Taking the emerald with him, he advanced to a window by the ocean, and cried out over the moonlit waters,--
"Waters of the Sea, rise and overwhelm the palace of the King!"
Now the King's palace stood apart by itself on a tongue of land running far out into the tide, and soon the rising waters were flowing over the marble floors and pouring in through the windows. One by one, the lights in the thousand rooms, touched by the waves, hissed, sputtered, and expired. The servants of the palace, one and all, ran away pell-mell, and left the dark castle to its fate. Little by little the advancing water crept from the walls to the balconies, from the balconies to the towers, and from the foot of the towers to their very tops. Finally, all the moon could see as it shone upon the flood was the weather-vane of the highest turret of all. You should have seen the little waves ripple and break about it! And finally, even the weather-vane disappeared under the black waves.
Locked in his secret treasure-room, opening the jewel coffers one after the other, the King remained quite ignorant of the disaster. For some time no sound reached him in his hidden retreat, because the door of the treasure-room was very thick and strong. Suddenly he heard behind him the sound of falling water, and turning toward the door, beheld streams of water gushing through the passages between the door and its frame. Horror-struck, he watched the door burst from its locks and hinges; a roaring cascade of cold sea-water came pouring in the room, and a moment later the whole castle crumbled and fell to pieces.
Now, when the King had met his deserts, the people of the country, who greatly respected the merchant, offered him the crown; but he refused it and conferred it on his two elder sons. Thus it came to pass that the country had two kings. Each brother in turn reigned for six months of every year, and spent the other six under the sea with the golden-eyed people of the waters.
As for the sailor lad, he sailed the sea for many years, and finally married a pretty niece of the Witch of the Sands. Then, like all sailors, he went to the country to live. His house is built of gray stone, ivy climbs over it, and apple orchards lie beneath its windows.
And the all lived happily ever after.
