Fairy Tales From all Nations Part 5

Julius then regained courage; he rushed up to the skeleton and grasped the cross! Instantly the phantom vanished, and all was still around him. He returned thoughtfully and without running. The elves were waiting for him at the door, and lighted him back to the place whence they had come. He then set up the cross on a little mossy hillock; and all the glow-worms formed themselves into a circle round it, and prayed and sang songs of grat.i.tude,--which, however, were inaudible to Julius.

His mother then seated herself on the tip of his ear, and whispered: "Ere our deliverance full can be, thou must once more become as we.

The charmed drink already in thy veins is working. Four elements it contains: the sound of my voice, the forest's cool air, the fragrance of the flowers by night, and the brightly-coloured light which thou didst so eagerly inhale whilst we were dancing round thee. If that thou dost desire once more thy coa.r.s.e fat body to restore to its once delicate form, then know, thou must henceforth to eat forego, save of the rays from the bright stars beaming, save of the sweets from the young flowers streaming. Now, sleep in peace, and by to-morrow's light thy limbs will be more delicate and slight."

Julius stretched himself on the moss, and slept. The next morning he did not waken until it was late; and then he felt himself so wonderfully light that he fancied he must be able to jump as high as the heavens. In order to try his strength, he made a spring, intending to clear a little ant-heap which he mistook for a hill; but he fell in the midst of it, and had great difficulty in extricating himself, so small had he already become. He ate nothing all that day; and at night, was lighted to bed by the glow-worms who danced round him whilst he slept.

On the second day he had already become so diminutive that he was obliged to stand on tip-toe to smell a yellow primrose. When he awoke on the third morning, he saw high in the heavens the sun with its golden disk surrounded by silver-white rays. But it did not dazzle him in the least, let him look at it as steadfastly as he would; and, to his great surprise, he observed an entirely green rainbow which stretched down from it to the earth. He went close to it; and then discovered that the rainbow was only a thick stem, which he grasped with both hands, and by a great effort shook,--when behold! the sun moved a little out of its place. He could not help laughing at himself; for he now perceived that what he had taken for the yellow sun with the white rays and the green rainbow, was only a large daisy on its stalk.

He had now diminished to the proper dimensions of an elf. When evening came, therefore, all the glow-worms a.s.sembled round him on the moss to swear fealty to him. The peers of the realm brought with them a crown of pure star-light ore, very delicately and tastefully wrought, with which they solemnly crowned Julius, and no sooner was the crown placed on his head, than in a moment, as if by magic touch, they were all changed into little graceful elves, and on the brow of each was a star. They then took the oath of fidelity, and Julius swore to maintain the const.i.tution. This done, the rejoicings began, and they shouted and huzzaed until the noise was as great as that which the gra.s.s makes when it is growing in the sweet spring time.

Julius and his mother embraced and kissed each other. She could not repeat too often how pretty and slight he was, and how very much he resembled his father:--and then she shed oceans of tears for her murdered husband.

The elves rejoiced the whole night through; but when the morning dawned, they said to each other with some uneasiness: "How are we to get back to India, to our beautiful native land?" Then a light breeze murmured amongst the branches, and shook down a hundred-leaved rose, so that all its delicate curved petals were scattered to the ground--and a voice was heard, saying:

"There your carriages, light as air, you to the spicy east shall bear,--and the cross you shall find in your own bright land, already borne there by an unseen hand."

All the elves now seated themselves in the rose leaves,--Julius and his mother and the court occupying the finest. Then a gentle zephyr sprang up; which raised all the rose leaves into the air, and wafted them softly in the morning dawn home to the east,--the elves singing:--

To India, to India, the land of our birth!

Where the zephyrs blow lightly, And the flowers glow brightly, And the atmosphere scent-laden floats o'er the earth; Where under the wide-spreading leaves we find shelter, Nor care how winds whistle, nor how the storms pelter.

Over our heads Their green roof spreads--

And safe within their vernal bowers We elfin spirits dance and play, While some soft and holy lay Is sung by the tall and fragrant flowers On their green stems bending, And heavenward sending Angel hymns of joyous blending.

In solemn pomp again we'll tread, By our tapers' light, In the still dark night, To bring to their resting-place the dead!

--Away then, away! carried swift by the wind, At the dawning of day to our native Ind!

THE TWO MISERS.

[Hebrew.]

A miser living in Kufa had heard that in Ba.s.sora also there dwelt a Miser--more miserly than himself, to whom he might go to school, and from whom he might learn much. He forthwith journeyed thither; and presented himself to the great master as a humble commencer in the Art of Avarice, anxious to learn, and under him to become a student.

"Welcome!" said the Miser of Ba.s.sora; "we will straight go into the market to make some purchase." They went to the baker.

"Hast thou good bread?"

"Good, indeed, my masters,--and fresh and soft as b.u.t.ter." "Mark this, friend," said the man of Ba.s.sora to the one of Kufa, "--b.u.t.ter is compared with bread as being the better of the two: as we can only consume a small quant.i.ty of that, it will also be the cheaper,--and we shall therefore act more wisely, and more savingly too, in being satisfied with b.u.t.ter."

They then went to the b.u.t.ter-merchant, and asked if he had good b.u.t.ter.

"Good, indeed,--and flavoury and fresh as the finest olive oil," was the answer.

"Mark this also,"--said the host to his guest; "oil is compared with the very best b.u.t.ter, and, therefore, by much ought to be preferred to the latter."

They next went to the oil vendor:--

"Have you good oil?"

"The very best quality,--white and transparent as water," was the reply.

"Mark that too," said the Miser of Ba.s.sora to the one of Kufa; "by this rule water is the very best. Now, at home I have a pail-full, and most hospitably therewith will I entertain you." And indeed on their return nothing but water did he place before his guest,--because they had learnt that water was better than oil, oil better than b.u.t.ter, b.u.t.ter better than bread.

"G.o.d be praised!" said the Miser of Kufa,--"I have not journeyed this long distance in vain!"

PRINCE CHAFFINCH.

[French.]

There was once a king and queen who ruled with the greatest kindness and simplicity imaginable; and their subjects were just such good folks as themselves, so that both parties agreed very well. As, however, there is no condition in the world which has not its cares and sorrows, so also this king and queen were not free from them; in fact, the peace of their lives was considerably disturbed by a fairy, who had patronised them from their earliest years. Fairy Grumble-do--that was her name--was incessantly finding fault, would repeat the same words a hundred times a day, and grumbled at every thing that was doing, and at all that had been done. Setting aside this little failing, she was in all other respects the best soul in the world, and it gave her the greatest satisfaction when she could oblige or serve anybody.

The union of the royal pair had hitherto proved childless, but whenever they besought Fairy Grumble-do to give them children, she invariably replied:--"Children! what do you want children for? To hear them squalling from morning till night, till you, as well as I, will be ready to jump out of our skins with the noise? What's the use of children? n.o.body knows what to do with them; they only bring care and trouble!"

Some such remarks were all the king and queen got for their entreaties; and the fairy's ill-humour, and the snuffling tone in which she uttered these speeches made them quite unbearable. The good king and queen, however, never lost their patience, so that at last the fairy lost hers, and, in a pet, she all of a sudden gratified them with seven princes at a birth.

The queen remarked in her usual mild and quiet manner, that she had now a great many children, to which Fairy Grumble-do answered, snarlingly:--"Well, you wished for children, Madam queen, and now you have got them according to your wish, and in order that you may have enough of them, I shall just double the number."

No sooner said than done, and the queen brought into the world seven more princes at a birth. The royal pair were now quite in trouble; fourteen princes of the blood are, in fact, no joke; for however rich one may be, fourteen princes to nurse, educate, and establish handsomely, costs a good bit of money. Fairy Grumble-do was quite right there; fourteen princes do require a good deal of waiting on, and so she found plenty to do all day, with finding fault, and scolding first this attendant, then that nursemaid, then this servant, or that preceptor; and when she once got into the children's apartment, no one could hear himself speak, for the noise she made.

Still at bottom she meant very kindly, and she promised the anxious queen that she would take good care of the princes, and one day provide for them all. Those old times were very good ones, and things were managed in royal residences with great simplicity. The young princes played all day with the children of the towns-people, because they went to the same school with them, and no one had a word to say against it, which would hardly be the case now-a-days, for kings and everybody else are grown much grander than they were then.

Quite close to the palace dwelt an honest charcoal-burner, who lived in his little cottage contentedly on what he earned by the sale of his charcoal. All his neighbours esteemed him as the worthiest man in the world, and the king himself had great confidence in his capacity, and would often ask his counsel in matters of government. He was called the coal-man throughout all the country, and no one within ten miles round would have any coals but from him, so that he had to serve every household, even those of the n.o.bility and the fairies. Wherever he carried his coals, he was a favourite, and even little children were not afraid of him, and no one ever said to them, "Behave prettily, else the charcoal-burner will take you away." After working all day at his business, he went to his little cottage at night to rest, and to enjoy his freedom, for he was sole master in the house. His wife had been long dead, and had left him only one little daughter, called Gracious; for she was the prettiest creature in the world.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PRINCE CHAFFINCH. P. 76.]

He loved this child beyond all measure; and, indeed, not without reason, for a prettier little maiden could not be found on earth; in spite of the coal-smoke that enveloped her, and her poor clothing, she always appeared charming and agreeable, and no one could help loving her on account of her wonderful amiability. The king's youngest son, little Prince Chaffinch, who was as sprightly as he was pretty, was extremely attached to Gracious, preferred her to all the other children of his acquaintance, and would play with no one but her, so that they were always seen together, and indeed, they could not live without one another. Meanwhile the worthy coal-man, who felt old age approaching, grew very anxious about the fate of Gracious, after he should have ceased to live; for the partiality of the king for him did not seem to him sufficient to put him at ease about her. "The king,"

he would say to himself, as he pondered on the subject, "has a large family of his own, and is obliged to ask so much of the fairy for his own necessities, that he surely will not have courage to put in a good word for my child. Even if he were to promise to do so, I should not depend on him. For"--thus he ever concluded his self-conferences, "the poor king, is in fact, worse off than I am; he has fourteen to provide for; I only one. His are princes; mine is only a poor burgher maid.

Mine therefore will be easier to provide for. A poor girl like her can manage to get along in the world; she stands alone; but a poor prince never; hundreds hang about him, draining him, and consuming all his substance." Now, after thinking it over and over, he grew quite unhappy at heart, and he knew not what to do. So he went one day, head and heart full of care, to a very beneficent fairy, who had always behaved very kindly to him. She was called Fairy Bonbon; she it was, who, in order to please epicures, both small and great, invented those sweets which now bear her name. When the good fairy saw the coal-man in such trouble, she asked him what ailed him; and after he had given her a highly sensible reply, she promised him in good earnest, that she would take Gracious under her own care, and desired him to bring the child to her the following Sunday.

The coal-man obeyed punctually, and when the time came he made little Gracious put on her best clothes, and the new coloured little shoes he had bought for her the day before, and set off with his dear little daughter. Gracious skipped before him, then ran back to him, and took hold of his hand, saying:--"We are going to the castle, we are going to the castle!" for her father had not told her anything further about it.

When they arrived, Fairy Bonbon received them very kindly, but notwithstanding all was so fine in the castle, and that she had so many bonbons and other nice things, Gracious could not be happy when her father went away and left her behind. For the first time in her life she began to cry, and could scarcely leave off again. This touched the fairy extremely, so that she grew quite fond of Gracious, and all who were present said:--"My daughter would not cry so if she were obliged to part from me." But in time little Gracious became reconciled to her new residence, and was so obedient and docile that the good fairy Bonbon never had occasion to reprove her, nor even to tell her twice of the same thing, so that she took great delight in her.

When her father came to visit her, the pretty child always ran to meet him, and threw herself into his arms without fearing to soil the fine clothes which the fairy had given her. After kissing and caressing her dear papa to her heart's content, she always inquired after her friend, Prince Chaffinch, and sent him her best bonbons and toys. The coal-man always carried them very conscientiously to the prince, who never failed to send his thanks and a message to say how earnestly he longed to see her once again.

Thus Gracious lived till she was twelve years old, and then Fairy Bonbon, who was extraordinarily fond of her, took her father one day into her boudoir, and desired him to be seated, as she did not like to see the old man standing up in her presence. The coal-man excused himself at first, but the fairy insisted, so that at last he was obliged to obey, although it seemed to him a very strange thing to sit down in his clothes all covered with coal-dust on a white taffeta arm-chair, and he could not think how he should manage to prevent his jacket from leaving marks on it.

At last, however, the fairy constrained him to be seated; and she then said to him, "Old friend, I love your daughter."

"Honoured madam," replied he, "you are very kind; but indeed you are much in the right, for she is a very dear child."

"I wish now to consult with you what I shall do," said the fairy; "for you must know I shall be obliged shortly to travel for a considerable time in another country."

"Ah, madam, then do have the goodness to take her along with you,"