The Piskey Purse Part 20

'It was what I had expected,' she said. 'Now, dear little maid, you must get up with the larks to-morrow and come here, and you shall then see what you will see.'

Bessie Jane got out of bed the minute she awoke the next day, which was just as the little skybirds were beginning to sing; and when she was dressed she hurried off to Tamarisk Lane.

Early though it was, the Wise Woman was also up, and when she saw her little friend coming, she went and opened her door.

The first thing the child saw as she came into the cottage were two tiny ears--smaller even than a harvest-mouse's ears--on the table, and near them two round eyeb.a.l.l.s, with a sapphire spark in each of them.

As her glance rested on the wee eyes and ears, Old Annis called her to her side, and taking up the ears, she dropped them into the child's ears; then she took up the eyes, and putting some Wee Folk's glue on their back, she put them into Bessie Jane's pretty brown ones, and told her to look round her cottage.

The child did so, and saw to her amazement that it was full of Small People, including little Brown Piskey-men. They were all amusing themselves in various ways: some were running about the sanded floor; some were looking into the depths of a Toby jug full of milk; and some tickling Old Annis's large grey cat. The Piskeys were astride her fiddle-backed chairs and her settle, and winked at the sweet little maid whenever she turned her gaze their way, and they winked so funnily she could not have helped laughing to save her life. As she was looking at them, the Wise Woman told her if she wished to see the sea-fairies in Harlyn Bay she must go at once.

She did not at all want to go, for the Small People were most fascinating, she told the old woman, particularly the little brown winking Piskeys; but she went all the same.

As she walked down the lane to the bay, she looked through the tamarisk hedge into the common, and saw that somehow or other it looked different. There was a soft green light hanging over it, and where the sand was only the day before there was a mult.i.tude of most beautiful flowers of every colour and shade, the like of which she had never seen before. Amongst the flowers cows were feeding. The cows were ever so small, not bigger than rats. There were teeny tiny goats there, too, and dear little men in queer hats and coats looking after them. The cows and goats belonged to the Wee Folk, she supposed. It was all so delightfully different and odd, and she couldn't think how she had never noticed all this on the common before, till she remembered she was seeing through a sea-fairy's eyes.

As she climbed the cliffs overlooking the bay a sound of sweetest music stole upon her borrowed ears, and glancing to where the sound came, she saw that the edge of the low cliff was crowded with Small People, who were singing away like a choir of song-birds. Some of them were sitting on Piskey-stools, [48] some on the edge of the cliff, others were standing. In the background were a score or more of tiny musicians, with reeds, flutes, and other instruments of music in their hands. These last were quaintly dressed in poppy-coloured coats and speedwell-blue breeches, and on their dear little heads were blue three-cornered hats turned up with the same rich colour as their coats. The whole company of Wee Folk were delightful to look at as they were to listen to; and as for the tiny ladies of the party, they were, Bessie Jane told herself, little nosegays of wild-flowers, and if they had not been trilling and piping as she came upon them, she would have mistaken them for cliff-blossoms, so bright they looked in their lovely gowns of trefoil-gold and reds, thrift-pink, squill-blue, and all those exquisite colours that make the Cornish cliffs so beautiful in the late spring and early summer-time.

The Small People saw the child, and seemed quite pleased to see her, for they smiled most graciously, and one of the little musicians took off his three-cornered hat and bowed like a courtier, and said he hoped she did not mind their singing, as it was their custom to sing a little impromptu song to their cousins--the sea-fairies--every beautiful morning in May, that being, he told her, the month of flowers and music.

Bessie Jane did not mind in the least. Indeed, she was delighted to think she had come in time to hear one of their little songs, only she was far too shy to say so.

She sat on the cliff where she could see the Wee Folk and Harlyn Bay at the same time. The sea was coming in, and was already under the cliff where she was sitting; as she looked down into the water she saw it was full of lovely little creatures, who were gazing up at her with all the eyes in their heads. They were sea-fairies, she could tell, by their resemblance to the dear little thing she had caught in her shrimping-net. They all wore little green shifts or shirts, through which their tiny pink bodies glowed like a rose, and all had sun-beamed hair and deep-blue eyes. Some of the sea-fairies were riding on the backs of the waves and tossing tiny spray-b.a.l.l.s when she first saw them; others were darting in and out the sea-ripples as quick as sun-flashes, and playing over the inner bay in waves of light. A short distance out were a hundred or more little female sea-fairies dancing, and as they danced and held each other's hands they looked like tiny garlands of sunbeams. They were dancing to a sweet tune of their own, or perhaps to the music of the sea, which was full of lovely sounds to-day, and colour too--that wonderful ethereal blue which is only seen in a summer's dawn.

Whilst Bessie Jane was watching the sea-fairies, and wondering if the little friend she had put back into the sea were amongst them, and if she could see her without eyes, the Wee Folk on the cliff suddenly broke into music and song. The song was so wild and free and the music so sweet that the sea-fairies far out in the bay came close under the cliff and listened with the utmost joy, their tiny faces shining with pleasure, and their small bodies swaying in time to the rhythm of the song. As for the child, she thought it was the loveliest music she had ever heard. The song, which was accompanied by lutes, flutes, and reeds, and by the tapping of tiny feet and clapping of hands, was as follows:

'Sing, sing, sea-fairies, sing!

For the dark has fled At the dawn's soft tread; And the moon grows cold In the sun's warm gold.

Sing, sing, sea-fairies, sing!

'Sing, sing, sea-fairies, sing!

For the sky's dear bird O'er the waves is heard; And the linnet's flute Like a fairy's lute.

Sing, sing, sea-fairies, sing!

'Sing, sing, sea-fairies, sing!

For sandpipers play By the pools to-day; And kittiwakes laugh As the light they quaff.

Sing, sing, sea-fairies, sing!

'Sing, sing, sea-fairies, sing!

For gulls are afloat Like a silver boat; And the curlews call As their weird cries fall.

Sing, sing, sea-fairies, sing!

'Sing, sing, sea-fairies, sing!

For the waves clap hands On the yellow sands; And the sea-sprites dance Where the sunbeams glance.

Sing, sing, sea-fairies, sing!

'Sing, sing, sea-fairies, sing!

For each little sprite Is a rhythm of light; And sweet are their lips Like honey-bee's sips!

Sing, sing, sea-fairies, sing!

'Sing, sing, sea-fairies, sing!

For day has begun, And high is the sun; Now hasten away To your dears and play!

Sing, sing, sea-fairies, sing!'

Bessie Jane held her breath until the music died away in the silver cadence of the morning sea, and the song was still in her ears, so that she was hardly conscious it was finished until she noticed the Small People had risen from the Piskey-stools and were leaving the cliff.

'You aren't going, are you, dear Little People?' she cried, forgetting her shyness in her dismay at their going so soon.

'Yes,' answered one of them. 'I hope you liked our song.'

'I did a terrible lot,' responded Bessie Jane, flushing to the roots of her pretty brown hair; 'your singing was lovely, and I should like to hear you sing every morning of my life! It was sweeter even than the thrush's song at sunset, I think.'

The Wee Folk were delighted at the child's praise; the small musicians beamed upon her, and the tiny ladies made her a deep curtsey, and then they all disappeared into the cliff.

She waited ever so long, hoping they would appear again and sing another song, but as they did not, she went down the cliff-path to the beach. At the ending of the song, all the sea-fairies had gone out into the bay to join the merry dancers, who were dancing away like a Bobby Griglan, [49] she told herself as she sent her glance over the sunlit waters to where they were. When she stood close to the waves all these little whirligigs came dancing sh.o.r.ewards, until they stopped only a few feet away and gazed at her curiously.

When they found their tongues, which they quickly did, to her great delight they began talking to her. They thanked her for being so kind to their little companion in giving her back to them the day before, and said how glad they were she had repaid the little girl's kindness in lending Bessie Jane her eyes and ears for a night and a day, as they heard she had so much wanted to see the sea-fairies.

'Yes, I did,' replied Bessie Jane, 'and I am awfully grateful to that pretty little dear for the loan of her ears and eyes, but I am afraid it was very selfish of me to get her to lend them.'

'She was very glad to lend them for the time you asked,' the sea-fairies rea.s.sured her--'not only because you did her all that kindness, but because you have been so very good to the poor old Wise Woman, who loves all the Little People, sea-fairies and all,'

they said.

It was a great surprise to Bessie Jane that the fairies should know about her kindness to poor Old Annis; and as she did not like being praised, she turned the conversation, and asked the dear little sea-sprites to tell her all about themselves, and what they did all day long, where they lived, and a hundred and one other questions which the sweet-voiced, sun-beamed little creatures seemed only too pleased to answer.

Amongst other interesting things, they told the child about their work. They said their chief happiness was to do good, and that their special work was to seek out all wounded things and take them down to the bottom of the sea, where they had a Place of Healing, and where they tended with gentle care all the poor, hurt creatures they found, until they were all healed and happy again. Another mission of theirs was to sing requiems over the poor drowned human beings, and to plant sea-lilies and other sea-flowers on their graves.

They were always busy, they told her, and when there was no special work for them to do they busied themselves with games, singing and dancing, and flashing in and out of the sea to make it beautiful with light. Their special time for merry-making and dancing was at sunset and sunrise, particularly sunset, for then the great sun went down into the sea to shine upon their lovely gardens, parks, and meadows under the sea where they lived, and where dear little fishes sang instead of birds!

It would fill pages to tell all those little sea-fairies told Bessie Jane, and which they told in such entrancing way that time flew. The tide came in and went out, and was again coming in, and the entranced child did not even notice it, or that the big white sun was wheeling down towards his setting.

A great lane of crimson fire stretched away on the blue-grey water from the outer bay to the horizon, and just as the sea-fairies had finished telling her all the wonders of their life and doings she saw coming towards her down this lane of rich light a tiny carriage in the shape of a scallop-sh.e.l.l, drawn by four little horses, two abreast, and white as sea-spray. As the tiny steeds sped onward and drew near, Bessie Jane saw leaning back in the carriage a sea-fairy with a bandage of red seaweed across her eyes and ears.

When the horses stopped, all the sea-fairies formed themselves in a circle round the carriage, and looked intently at the child on the sh.o.r.e.

As Bessie Jane noted all this, telling herself what handsome horses they were and what an elegant little carriage, and how beautiful it looked on the sun's pathway, a silvery voice, like the twitter of a baby lark low in its nest amongst the heather, piped from the carriage:

'Please give me back my eyes and my ears.'

'What eyes and ears?' asked the child, bewildered, for she had quite forgotten that she had got the sea-fairy's eyes and ears.

'Why, my own dear little eyes and ears that I lent you for a night and a day,' piped the sweet voice again.

'Must I give them back?' asked Bessie Jane.

'Indeed you must,' said the fairy. 'I have missed them oh so much! No beautiful vision have I seen, no lovely sounds have I heard, since I lent them to you yesterday afternoon. I waited until the sun had put on his flame-coloured robe before coming for them.'