Twenty-Four Unusual Stories for Boys and Girls Part 3

Now, he had grown somewhat used to strange things by this time, so he began to think he would like to see what sort of a creature it was upon which he was riding thus through the sky. So he contrived, in spite of his net and cap, to push up the handkerchief from over one eye. Out he peeped, and then he saw what the strange steed was. He was riding upon a he-goat as black as night, and in front of him was the magician riding upon just such another, his great red robe fluttering out in the moonlight like huge red wings.

"Great herring and little fishes!" roared the fisherman; "it is a billy-goat!"

Instantly goats, old man, and all were gone like a flash. Down fell the fisherman through the empty sky, whirling over and over and around and around like a frog. He held tightly to his net, but away flew his fur cap, the golden money falling in a shower like sparks of yellow light.

Down he fell and down he fell, until his head spun like a top.

By good-luck his house was just below, with its thatch of soft rushes.

Into the very middle of it he tumbled, and right through the thatch--b.u.mp!--into the room below.

The good wife was in bed, snoring away for dear life; but such a noise as the fisherman made coming into the house was enough to wake the dead.

Up she jumped, and there she sat, staring and winking with sleep, and with her brains as addled as a duck's egg in a thunderstorm.

"There!" said the fisherman, as he gathered himself up and rubbed his shoulder, "that is what comes of following a woman's advice!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE WINDS, THE BIRDS, AND THE TELEGRAPH WIRES]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 3: Reprinted by special permission from _Twilight Land,_ by Howard Pyle. Copyright by Harper & Brothers]

THE WINDS, THE BIRDS, AND THE TELEGRAPH WIRES[4]

LONG, long ago, a hundred times as long as any one can remember, the Great Earth King became so very, very busy about a great many things that there were several things that he could not do. So he sat himself down and rested his great head upon his hand, and thought, and thought, and thought until he decided that he must have some a.s.sistance. He would advertise for some messengers! So he seized a great brush, as big as a church steeple, dipped it into the red and golden sunset light, and wrote in big letters high on the sky, that every one far and near could read:

WANTED! MESSENGERS! FLEETER THAN HORSES, SWIFTER THAN MEN, TO CARRY MY MESSAGES, A MILLION TIMES TEN.

and he signed it simply, "The Earth King." Then he went into his rainbow house and laid himself down to sleep on his rainbow bed.

He had scarcely fallen asleep when there came a _rustle, rustle, rustle_ at the rainbow window, and a _rattle, rattle, rattle_ at the rainbow door. He sprang quickly from his great bed.

"Who be ye?" he asked.

"We be messengers," came the reply, "come to serve the King."

Then the King opened the door. There before him stood four of the strangest creatures that he had ever seen. They were so light that they could stand on nothing; they had great wide wings; they had pale faces and gleaming eyes; and they had light garments that floated and flapped and fluttered in the breeze.

"What are your names?" asked the King.

"We are the Winds," answered the mightiest of the four, "East Wind, West Wind, South Wind, North Wind," pointing to each in turn, himself last.

"We have come--

_Fleeter than horses, swifter than men, To carry your messages, a million times ten._"

Then the King spoke to them in deep and solemn tone: "The task is a great one. The King's business is grave and important. My messengers must be swift and faithful. Are ye able?"

Then the four winds piously crossed their b.r.e.a.s.t.s with their wings and whispered, "Try us and see, try us and see, try us and see."

So the King tried them.

"Down by the sea," said the King, "far over the mountains, many hours away, there lives a fisher folk that I love. Every day the men of the village go forth in their little boats to fish, and every evening they come home with their catch. But of late thick and heavy clouds have hung about them. They have not dared go forth lest they should not reach home again, and their families begin to be in want. Go to them to-day. Drive away the fog and clouds that the people may be happy again. Quick!

away!"

Then the four winds lifted their swift, beautiful wings and were gone.

Faster and faster they flew till none could tell how fast they flew.

Over the meadows they went and over the mountains. Each tried to outwing the others until it became a fierce and careless game. So blind and careless were they in their sport that they did not notice how they whirled the sand, and broke the trees, and tossed the water.

Swiftly through the fishing village they tore, hurling its poor houses to the ground and _crashing, dashing, slashing, smashing_ the waves upon the fallen wrecks and the frightened and suffering folk.

Not until they were weary with their furious sport did they remember the errand on which the King had sent them. They retraced their steps as quickly as they could, but alas! to their shame and grief, the village lay in ruins and the people wept for their loss.

Then the Earth King was very sad and angry. He brought the shameful winds before his court. "False and faithless winds," he said, in stern and awful voice, "ye did not do my errand; ye were traitors to your trust; great shall be your punishment. Nevermore shall ye be my messengers, evermore shall ye be my slaves. Away from my sight!"

Then the faithless winds departed from before the face of the King, and in shame and sorrow went moaning among the caves and the rocks by the seaside, and sighing among the lonely pine trees in the wilderness, and even to this day you may hear the echoes of their moans and sighs.

The Earth King was sorrowful, but not discouraged. Again he seized the great paint brush, as big as a church steeple, dipped it into the red and golden sunset light, and wrote in big letters high on the sky that every one far and near could read:

WANTED! MESSENGERS!

FLEETER THAN HORSES, SWIFTER THAN MEN, TO CARRY MY MESSAGES, A MILLION TIMES TEN.

Then he went into his rainbow house and laid himself down on his rainbow bed. He scarcely had taken forty winks when he heard a _rat-tat-tatting_ on the rainbow window and a _rap-rap-rapping_ on the rainbow door.

Quickly he leaped from his great bed.

"Who be ye?" he asked.

"We be messengers," came a gentle voice through the keyhole, "come to serve the King."

Then he opened the door, and there before him flitted and twittered a company of the most curious little people that he ever had set eyes upon. They had each a pair of beady eyes, a little pointed nose, a set of little scratchy toes, and the softest kind of a coat, fitting as snug as ever the tailor could make it.

"What are your names?" asked the King.

"We are the birds, and our names are many. We saw the King's sign in the sky and have come--

_Fleeter than horses, swifter than men, To carry your messages, a million times ten."_

Then the King, remembering the Winds, addressed them in very deep and solemn tones: "The task is a great one. The King's business is exceeding grave and important. My messengers must be swift and faithful, must remember my commands and keep my secrets. Are ye able?"

Each bird laid his little scratchy toes on his little pointed nose and vowed that he would remember the King's commands and keep the King's secrets.

"Then," said the King, "make ready. Far to the north dwells a people that I love. For many a month they have lived amid ice and snow and the bitter frosts. Now they sigh for warmer days, and I have heard them. I am planning a delightful surprise for them. I am going to carry spring to them. Go, find the warm sunshine and the soft south wind and bid them come at once to the King's court, that I may take them and the spring days to my suffering and discouraged people. Then return with all speed to the King, and remember --do not betray my secret."

The bird-messengers hastened away as fast as ever their wings could carry them. They summoned the warm sunshine and the soft south wind and bade them make haste to the Earth King. They, of course, turned back as they were commanded, but before they reached home again, each one of them was seized with a strange, restless, uneasy feeling right in the middle of his feathers. It must have been the secret trying to get out.

One by one they stole past the King's house under cover of the night and made their way to the north country. And when the morning came, there they were, sitting on the fence posts and in the apple trees, just bursting with the happy secret of the King.

_Then the robin pipped, and the bluebird blew; The sparrow chipped, and the swallow, too: "We know something,--we won't tell,-- Somebody's coming,--you know well.

This is his name ('twixt you and me), S-P-R-I-N-G."_