Everychild Part 32

The king was frowning mightily and saying to himself, "Can a king love any one better than he loves himself? Nay, that could not be!"

In a nervous, slinking manner, he drew back behind his curtain.

Prince Arthur drew his cloak about him more closely, as if he were cold. Then with an air almost spectral, yet very sad, he drew further and further away, always keeping his eyes upon the picture of the king.

He came to the folded hangings which opened no one knew whither. He parted them and pa.s.sed out. While his hand still clung to the hangings there came a flash of lightning which revealed the chaos of nothingness without. Thunder rumbled. Then the hangings fell back into place and the prince was seen no more.

So it went on until all the children had been restored to their parents--all save Everychild. And now Truth paused before the curtain whereon the likeness of Everychild's parents was painted.

"Parents of Everychild, appear!" she cried.

They came, subdued, saddened, hand in hand. And Truth addressed them.

"Parents of Everychild," she said, "I need not tell you now why Everychild is lost to those who should be nearest to him. You have learned that coldness and neglect toward those who have a right to look to you for love and good will is the one sin for which punishment is most inevitable. But so long as the world stands Everychild shall not forget his father and mother; and at last he comes to take you into his heart to cherish you for ever and ever. Will you--but ah, I need not ask! I know that at last the parents of Everychild, tried by suffering and time, love him better--oh, far better--than they love themselves."

To which the parents of Everychild cried out, "We do--we do, indeed!"

Then Everychild gave his hand to the Sleeping Beauty, who seemed a bit overawed by all that was transpiring, and led her toward his parents.

They stood with outstretched hands. And immediately they pa.s.sed with the utmost happiness behind their curtain.

They had all disappeared now--yet no, Aladdin and Will o'Dreams remained.

Aladdin had been sitting apart, watching everything that took place.

He had kept quite out of the way. Now he arose leisurely and moved toward those hangings through which Prince Arthur had disappeared. He meant to join Prince Arthur!

But just before he disappeared he turned about. A blissful smile was on his lips. He held his hands high.

_His lamp was gone_!

He pa.s.sed from sight. He could be heard singing dreamily, "Tla-la-la . . . tla-la-la . . ." His voice died away.

Now Truth remained all alone save that her son, Will o'Dreams, remained gazing at her happily.

But suddenly she perceived an intruder near her. For the last time, Mr. Literal was there beside her. He was smiling smugly and tetering back and forth on his feet. "You seem very well satisfied with yourself," he said with a sneer.

She only turned toward him serenely.

"Yet all the same," continued Mr. Literal, "the story is full of meaningless things and inconsistencies."

"Do you think so?" she returned.

"Of course. Take those unhappy pictures of childhood, for example.

You don't mean to argue really that Everychild is treated unkindly?"

She replied thoughtfully, "I fear that Everychild is sometimes treated unkindly."

He seemed to weigh this point and to remain unconvinced. He moved more confidently to the next point. "At least," he said, "you'll scarcely contend that Everychild marries the Sleeping Beauty?"

She replied with a.s.surance: "Everychild marries a Sleeping Beauty. To him she is beautiful, and she is asleep until he comes."

Mr. Literal lost patience. "Very well," he said, "but you know it's true that Imagination--I believe he calls himself Will o'Dreams--is not a giant as he's been represented here."

She replied calmly, "The greatest giant of all: the forerunner of every dream, of every deed!"

But Mr. Literal had reserved his most crushing argument for the last.

"Well," said he, "it is certainly not true that Everychild has a little dog for a companion!"

And now for an instant Truth seemed really confused. But after faltering a moment she overcame her confusion. She smiled and beamed with real good will. "Perhaps not," said she, "but ah, Everychild _should_ have!"

But Mr. Literal was not to be conciliated. "And as for your not having a mask on any more, as Everychild would have it, that's nonsense. It's there, just the same as ever."

"To you--yes, I know," she replied.

"To every one!" he exclaimed irritably. "I'll leave it to the world."

"Let us see," she said; and she turned to her son, Will o'Dreams, with a significant smile.

It seemed that he understood; for he faced the painted curtains with sudden purposefulness. He held his arms aloft--and all the curtains began to ascend. The result was almost bewildering.

In one place was the great shoe, just as we have seen it before, and all about it were the Old Woman's sons and daughters, seemingly the happiest children in the world. Their mother was smiling contentedly.

In another place there was the interior of Old Mother Hubbard's cottage, with the little black dog just receiving a fine morsel, and with Tom and his mother looking on with great joy.

In another there was a mean cottage interior--the home of Hansel and Grettel--with the parents holding their son and daughter close to them.

In another was the dreadful King John, pondering moodily on his throne.

In another there was the kitchen of Cinderella's house, with Cinderella holding her skirt back and looking in ecstacy at two perfect crystal slippers on her feet, while her mother and sisters _and a perfectly fascinating prince_ looked on with rapture.

In another there was Everychild, being held close to his mother's side, while the father stood apart, his hands in his trousers pockets and a complacent smile on his lips. There was the lamp shade with the red beads, and the clock like a state capitol, and everything.

As the curtains went up the persons in the various groups looked out upon Truth, who asked in a perfectly a.s.sured tone:

"Good people, tell me: am I wearing a mask?"

Let me close my tale by leaving the answer to you, dear reader.

What is your decision?

Does she wear a mask?