More Tales in the Land of Nursery Rhyme Part 3

"Have you brought her?"

"No, your Majesty," said the Knight, "but she sent you this flower, in token that if you will send her another messenger through the air, she will come. Oh, your Majesty, she is more beautiful than day, and her garden is Paradise itself!"

"Don't waste time talking," said the King. "Send Sir Richard Byrde.

He learnt to fly long ago. He can fetch her through the air. Have a garden I must and will. This Canterbury bell shall be planted immediately." So the half-dozen gardeners were straightway sent off to plant it.

Meanwhile Sir Richard Byrde had arrived at the palace, having been sent for by an express messenger. He looked splendid in a knightly garb of russet brown.

"What is your will, your Majesty?" said he, bowing low before the King.

"Fly through the air and fetch me the Princess Mary Radiant," said the King. "For if she will smile on my back-yard, it will be turned into a garden."

Sir Richard Byrde bowed low before the King.

"I go," he said . . . and went.

He had not flown many leagues from the palace when he began to realise that he might fly and fly, and never find the Princess Mary Radiant.

"I wish I knew the way," he cried.

Then to him as to Sir Hunny Bee appeared the little old man.

"Fly over cloud and through air for seven times seven leagues," said he, "till you come to a large gate-post on which is hung a sign-board.

Follow the directions on the sign-board, and all will be well. By the way, you had better take this parcel with you, and open it when you reach the gate-post," and flinging a little parcel on the ground, the little old man disappeared. Sir Richard Byrde picked up the parcel, which was smaller than the smallest seed, and flew on over cloud and through air for seven times seven leagues. There, just as the old man had said, was the gate-post and the sign-board. He, too, read the directions:--

THE GARDEN OF THE PRINCESS MARY RADIANT

No man shall be admitted here, Till he a fine doth pay.

And he that will not pay the fine, From hence must fly away.

By him that rides here over land, A silver bell is paid.

He that flies. .h.i.ther through the air, Must bring a dark-faced maid.

While he that through the sea doth swim, Must bring a c.o.c.kle-sh.e.l.l with him.

By order, M. R.

"'He that flies. .h.i.ther through the air, Must bring a dark-faced maid,'

but I have not one!" he cried. Then he remembered the old man's parcel. He opened it and found inside a little egg-shaped doll with a brown face. He paid this dark-faced maid to the little old man, who had suddenly appeared from nowhere, and who, putting the maid into his hat, led the Knight into the garden.

As the garden had appeared to Sir Hunny Bee, so did it now appear to Sir Richard Byrde. The gra.s.s like emeralds, the pearl-lined paths, the flashing fountains, the gorgeous fruits, the curtseying maids, the singing birds, and the scented flowers.

As Sir Hunny Bee had been led to the arbour behind which the Princess was to pa.s.s, even so was he.

He, too, asked if there were not a great many gardeners, and was told that the Princess did it all herself with a few of the Bees, a few Byrdes (cousins of yours by the way), and the nymphs Wynde and Worta.

He, too, heard the soft footsteps approaching, and heard the gentle voice say, "Not to-day";--and then he, too, saw the colours fade and the fountains cease to play, and the birds to sing as the Princess pa.s.sed on behind the arbour.

He, too, waited for seven days, and on the seventh, he, too, cried out:

"Most gracious Princess, for seven times seven leagues have I flown over clouds and through air to seek you; and I have waited here for you for seven days; oh, grant me permission to tell my quest," and the gentle voice said:

"Have you paid your fine, most bold stranger?"

"Yes," said Sir Richard Byrde.

"Throw it from the arbour that I may see it," said the Princess.

So the old man took the maid from out of his hat and threw it on to a bed near, and it grew and grew till it was a fair maid, fairer than all the others, and curtseying deeper than any of them.

"The Princess smiles on it," said the old man, "tell her your mission speedily."

"Gracious lady," said Sir Richard Byrde, "the King of a far kingdom has sent me to beg that you will come back with me and smile on his back-yard that it may become a garden--even as when you smiled on my poor maid it grew and blossomed."

"Oh, stranger," answered the Princess, "go home and tell your master that I will never come to him, unless he comes over the sea to fetch me himself. Come forth now and pluck the flower that sprang from your seed, and give it to your master in token that I speak truth."

So Sir Richard Byrde came forth from the arbour to pluck the flower, and he, too, was dazzled by the golden glory of the Princess.

Kneeling, he kissed her hand.

"Pluck your flower and go," she said, "and if your master will fetch me himself, I will come."

So Sir Richard Byrde plucked the flower and flew away the way he had come. But when he stopped to look at the flower he had plucked, he found it was only an ordinary sunflower.

The King was waiting on the steps of the back-yard, watching a dozen gardeners trying to rear the Canterbury bell with patent foods. When he saw Sir Richard Byrde approaching he called out:

"Have you brought her?"

"No, your Majesty," said the Knight, "but she sent you this flower in token that if you, yourself, will go across the sea to fetch her, she will come--and, oh, your Majesty, she is more beautiful than day, and her garden is Paradise itself!"

"Don't waste time talking," said the King. "You know quite well I have never fetched anything myself in my life. In fact, I have never done any thing myself. That is one of the privileges of being a King."

"Well, but your Majesty will never have a garden without her," murmured Sir Richard Byrde humbly, looking round the back-yard, and thinking of the Princess's lovely garden.

The back-yard certainly did look very dismal. A dozen more gardeners were already at work trying to plant the sunflower, but they had put it in upside down. Sc.r.a.ps of old iron, once patent rakes, hoes, or watering-cans, were scattered about. The smell of the patent soils and weed-killers was positively horrible. The Canterbury bell drooped helplessly in one corner.

The King sighed.

"Well, I must have a garden," he said. "So I will put an end to all this, and go and fetch the Princess myself. After all, I shall only have to bring her here--and then what a difference there will be!"

So without wasting another minute the King himself climbed the castle wall, and plunged headlong into the sea.

He had swum a dozen yards or so when it suddenly occurred to him that he might swim and swim, and never find the Princess Mary Radiant.

"I wish I knew the way," he cried, catching hold of a c.o.c.kle-sh.e.l.l that was lying on one of the upstanding rocks.

Then to him, as to the two Knights, appeared the old man. "Swim over rocks and through water for seven times seven leagues," said he, "till you come to a large gate-post on which is hung a sign-board. Follow the directions on the sign-board and all will be well." Then the King swam on over rocks and through water, for seven times seven leagues; and there, just as the old man had said, was the sign-board. He, too, read the directions:--