{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_19892/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_19892","id":"gutenberg_19892","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/19892","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Fables"],"text":"Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE SILVER CROWN\n\nAnother Book of Fables\n\nBY\nLAURA E. RICHARDS\n\nAuthor of \"Captain January,\" \"The Golden Windows,\"\n\"The Joyous Story of Toto,\" etc.\n\nBOSTON\nLITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY\n1919\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nCOPYRIGHT, 1906,\nBY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY.\n\nAll rights reserved\n\nPrinters\nS. J. PARKHILL & CO., BOSTON, U. S. A.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nTO MY SISTER\n\nMAUD HOWE ELLIOTT\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n          A WINTER THOUGHT\n\n\n     Hast thou e'er a grief, dear?\n       Lock it in thy heart!\n     Keep it, close it,\n       Sacred and apart;\n     Lest another, at thy sigh,\n     Hear his sorrow stir and cry.\n     Wakeful watch doth sorrow keep:\n     Hush it! hide it! bid it sleep!\n\n     Hast thou e'er a joy, love?\n       Bind it on thy brow!\n     Vaunt it, flaunt it,\n       All the world to know.\n     Where the shade lies dim and gray,\n     Turn its glad and heartsome ray.\n     Does thy sad-browed neighbor smile?\n     So thy life was worth the while!\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nCONTENTS\n\n                                                   PAGE\n\nTHE SILVER CROWN                                      1\nTHE GRUMPY SAINT                                      5\nTHE HOUSEKEEPER                                       9\nBROTHER BARNABAS                                     12\nTHE FATES                                            14\nTHE STEPS                                            16\nTHE GLASS                                            19\nIN THE SHADED ROOM                                   21\nHELL GATE                                            24\nTHE THORN                                            25\nTHE SERPENT                                          27\nIF THIS SHOULD BE. I                                 28\nIF THIS SHOULD BE. II                                30\nTHE FEAST                                            32\nTHE SPIRIT                                           35\nTHE ROOTS                                            37\nALONG THE WAY                                        39\nTHE GRAVE DIGGERS                                    42\nTHE SICK CHILD                                       44\nAT LONG LAST                                         48\nGILLYFLOWER GENTLEMAN                                50\nTHE JUDGMENT                                         52\nTHE BLIND CHILD                                      54\nTHE CAKE                                             56\nTHE SERMON                                           59\nTHE TANGLED SKEIN                                    61\nTHE NURSLING                                         64\nWORMWOOD                                             67\nTHE PIT                                              69\nHOSPITALITY                                          73\nTHE POT                                              75\nTHE BODY                                             76\nTHE RULER                                            79\nTHE TORCH-BEARER                                     81\nTHE STONE BLOCKS                                     83\nTHE POTTER                                           85\nTHE NEIGHBOUR                                        87\nTHE WOUND                                            88\nTHE WHITE FIRE. I                                    90\nTHE WHITE FIRE. II                                   94\nFOR YOU AND ME                                       96\nTHE PICTURE BOOK                                     98\nTHE FLOWER OF JOY                                   100\nTHE BURNING HOUSE                                   102\nTHE PLANT                                           104\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nTHE SILVER CROWN\n\nA BOOK OF FABLES\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\nTHE SILVER CROWN\n\n\n\"And shall I be a king?\" asked the child, \"and shall I wear a crown?\"\n\n\"You shall surely wear a crown,\" said the Angel, \"and a kingdom is\nwaiting for you.\"\n\n\"Oh, joy!\" said the child. \"But tell me, how will it come about? for now\nI am only a little child, and the crown would hardly stay on my curls.\"\n\n\"Nay! that I may not tell,\" said the Angel. \"Only ride and run your\nbest, for the way is long to your kingdom, and the time short.\"\n\nSo the child rode and ran his best, crossing hills and valleys, broad\nstreams and foaming torrents. Here and there he saw people at work or\nat play, and on these he looked eagerly.\n\n\"Perhaps, when they see me,\" he said, \"they will run to meet me, and\nwill crown me with a golden crown, and lead me to their palace and\nthrone me there as king!\"\n\nBut the folk were all busy with their tasks or their sport, and none\nheeded him, or left their business for him; and still he must fare\nforward alone, for the Way called him.\n\nAlso, he came upon many travellers like himself, some coming toward him,\nothers passing him by. On these, too, he looked earnestly, and would\nstop now one, now another, and question him.\n\n\"Do you know,\" he asked, \"of any kingdom in these parts where the crown\nis ready and the folk wait for a king?\"\n\nThen one would laugh, and another weep, and another jeer, but all alike\nshook their heads.\n\n\"I am seeking crown and kingdom for myself,\" cried one; \"is it likely\nthat I can be finding one for you, too? Each one for himself, and the\nWay for all!\"\n\nAnother said: \"You seek in vain. There are no crowns, only fools' caps\nwith asses' ears and bells that jingle in them.\"\n\nBut others, and these they who had been longest on the way, only looked\non him, some sadly, some kindly, and made no answer; and still he fared\nonward, for the Way called him.\n\nNow and then he stopped to help some poor soul who had fallen into\ntrouble, and when he did that the way lightened before him, and he felt\nthe heart light within him; but at other times the hurry was strong on\nhim, so that he would turn away his face, and shut his ears to the cries\nthat rang in them; and when he did that, the way darkened, and\noftentimes he stumbled himself, and fell into pits and quagmires, and\nmust cry for help, sometimes on those to whom he had refused it.\n\nBy and by he forgot about the crown and the kingdom; or if he thought of\nthem, it was but as a far-off dream of dim gold, such as one sees at\nmorning when the sun breaks through the mist. But still he knew that the\nway was long and the time short, and still he rode and ran his best.\n\nAt the last he was very weary, and his feet could carry him no further,\nwhen, looking up, he saw that the way came to an end before him, and\nthere was a gate, and one in white sitting by it, who beckoned to him.\nTrembling, yet glad, the child drew near, and knew the Angel who had\nspoken to him at the beginning.\n\n\"Welcome!\" said the Angel, \"you come in good time. And what of the Way?\"\n\n\"I came as fast as I could,\" said the child, \"but many things hindered\nme, and now I am weary, and can go no further.\"\n\n\"But what did you find on the way?\" asked the Angel.\n\n\"Oh! I found joy and sorrow,\" said the child, \"good measure of both; but\nnever a crown, such as you promised me, and never a kingdom.\"\n\n\"Oh, dear, foolish child,\" said the Angel. \"You are wearing your crown.\nIt is of purest silver, and shines like white frost; and as for your\nkingdom, the name of it is Rest, and here the entrance to it.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE GRUMPY SAINT\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a Grumpy Saint, who thought that all the\nworld were sinners, himself included. He lived in a little cabin by the\nroadside, and his life was a burden to him on account of the passers-by.\n\nThey gave him no peace. Now it was a poor man asking for food.\n\n\"Go along with you!\" said the Grumpy Saint. \"It is an abomination to\nfeed sturdy beggars like you.\"\n\nAnd he gave the man his dinner, and went hungry.\n\nAgain, it was an old woman, creeping along the road, bent double under a\nheavy burden.\n\n\"Shame on you!\" said the Grumpy Saint. \"Why are you not at home,\ntending your fire, instead of gadding along the road in this fashion?\"\n\nAnd he took the burden, and carried it all the way to the woman's house,\nand came back grumbling.\n\nStill again it was a child, who had lost its way and came crying to his\ndoor.\n\n\"Please take me home!\" said the child.\n\n\"You should not have come out!\" said the Saint. \"Where is your home?\"\n\n\"Miles away!\" said the child. \"And I am tired; please carry me!\"\n\n\"Stuff and nonsense!\" said the Saint. \"Don't talk to me!\"\n\nAnd he wrapped the child in his own coat (for it was winter), and\ncarried him miles through the snow to his home; and then trudged back\nagain, but without the coat, for the folk were poor.\n\nAnd so it went on.\n\nOne day the Grumpy Saint died, and went to Heaven, a place in which he\nhad never believed. As he entered that country, the first person he met\nwas an Angel, with a bright gold aureole round her head, and in her hand\na staff of lilies.\n\n\"Welcome!\" said the Angel. \"Welcome, dear and great saint! I am sent to\ngreet you, and lead you to the feast that is making in your honor.\"\n\n\"Some mistake!\" said the Grumpy Saint. \"I don't know what you are\ntalking about, and I don't like play-acting. What place is this?\"\n\n\"This is Heaven!\" said the Angel.\n\n\"Nonsense!\" said the Saint. \"I don't believe in Heaven.\"\n\n\"Yes, but you _are_ in it,\" said the Angel, \"which is of more\nconsequence.\"\n\n\"And who may you be?\" asked the Saint. \"I seem to know your face.\"\n\n\"Yes!\" said the Angel. \"I am the old woman you helped with the burden;\ndon't you remember? the rest are waiting inside, all the people whom you\nloved and helped. Come with me!\"\n\n\"I don't know what you are talking about!\" said the Saint. \"But if I am\nto go with you, first take off that ridiculous object on your head! I\ndon't like play-acting, I tell you, and I have never believed in this\nkind of thing.\"\n\nThe Angel smiled; and leading him to a clear pool that lay beside the\nroad, bade him look in. He looked, and saw two white-clad figures\nbending over the water, and round the head of each the shining circle.\n\n\"Bless my soul!\" cried the Grumpy Saint. \"I've got one too!\"\n\n\"To be sure!\" said the Angel.\n\n\"Preposterous!\" said the Grumpy Saint.\n\n\n\n\nTHE HOUSEKEEPER\n\n\nOne day Love went to and fro in his house, looked from door and window,\nand had no rest.\n\n\"I am weary,\" he said, \"of this little house. Strait are the walls of\nit, and narrow the windows, and from them always the same things to see.\nI must be free; I must fly, or of what use are my wings?\"\n\nSo he took his red robe about him and flew out, leaving door and window\nstreaming wide to the cold wind.\n\nBut when he was gone came one in a little gown of green, (green for\nhope, Sweetheart; green for hope!) and entered the house, and shut door\nand window; swept the hearth clean and mended the fire, and then set\nherself down and sang, and minded her seam. Ever when the flame burned\nlow she built it up, and now and then she looked out of window to see\nif any one were coming; but mostly she sat and sang, and kept the house\ntidy and warm.\n\nNow by and by Love was weary with flying hither and yon; cold he was,\ntoo, and night coming on; and as the dusk fell, he saw a light shining\nbright on the edge of the wold.\n\n\"Where there is light there will be warmth!\" said Love; and he flew\nnear, and saw that it was his own little house.\n\n\"Oh! who keeps my house alight?\" cried Love.\n\nHe opened the door, and the air came warm to greet him.\n\n\"Oh! who keeps my house warm?\" cried Love. And he looked, and saw one in\na little gown of green, (green for hope, Sweetheart; oh! green for\nhope!) mending the fire, and singing as she worked.\n\n\"Who are you, who keep my house?\" asked Love.\n\n\"Kindness is my name!\" said the little housekeeper.\n\n\"Outside it is cold and empty,\" said Love, \"and the wind blows over the\nwaste; may I come in and warm me by the fire?\"\n\n\"Oh! and welcome!\" said Kindness. \"It was for you I kept it.\"\n\n\"My red robe is torn and draggled,\" said Love. \"May I wrap me in the\ngown you are making?\"\n\n\"Oh! and welcome,\" said Kindness. \"It is for you it was making, and now\nit is finished.\"\n\nLove bent over the fire and warmed his poor cold hands.\n\n\"Oh!\" he cried; \"now that I am back in my house I would never leave it\nagain. But what of my wings, lest they put the flight in me once more?\"\n\n\"Suppose I clip them,\" said Kindness, \"with my little scissors!\"\n\n\"How are your scissors called, dear?\"\n\n\"Peace-and-Comfort is their name!\" said Kindness.\n\nSo Kindness clipped the wings of Love; and this one swept the hearth,\nand that one mended the fire, and all went well while they kept the\nhouse together.\n\n\n\n\nBROTHER BARNABAS\n\n\nOne came to Brother Barnabas seeking consolation.\n\n\"Ah!\" said the good Brother. \"My heart bleeds for you. You are in\naffliction, bereft of some one dearer, it may be, than life itself. My\nsympathy--\"\n\n\"No!\" said the man. \"My friends, such as they are, are all living.\"\n\n\"I see!\" said Brother Barnabas. \"Bodily pain has set its sharp tooth in\nyou; that is indeed hard to bear. Let me--\"\n\n\"No!\" said the man. \"I am in good health, so far as that goes.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said Brother Barnabas. \"My poor brother, then it is sin that\nweighs upon you, the cruellest burden of all. Truly, I grieve for you.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" said the man. \"I have never broken a commandment in\nmy life.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said Brother Barnabas. \"I begin to perceive--\"\n\n\"I was sure you would!\" said the man. \"I am misunderstood--\"\n\n\"_Not by me!_\" said Brother Barnabas. \"Begone!\" and he shut the door on\nhim.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FATES\n\n\nThe high Fates sat weaving, weaving at their loom, and I, poor soul,\ncame crying at the door, asking a boon at their hands.\n\nThose great ladies did not turn their heads, nor stint the flying\nshuttle; but one of them spoke, and she the youngest, and her voice was\nlike the wind over the sea.\n\n\"What would you?\" she said.\n\nAnd I said, \"That which you had of me yesterday.\"\n\n\"Is it your sin, that turned your cup blood red?\"\n\n\"Nay; for I drained the cup, and washed it clean with my tears.\"\n\n\"Is it your sorrow, that changed the green world to black about you?\"\n\n\"Nay; for I wrapped me in it as in a mantle, and now I should go cold\nwithout it.\"\n\n\"What then?\" she asked; and ever as she spoke, back and forth, back and\nforth, the shuttle flew.\n\n\"Oh, what but my blunder! when I would make a path for my Love's white\nfeet, and set instead a snare for them, to her hurt?\"\n\nThen those high ladies spoke all together; cold, sweet, steadfast were\nthe voices of them, and the shuttle humming through.\n\n\"Even now the shuttle is threaded with your fault, and naught may stay\nits way. Go, poor soul, empty and crying as you came; yet take one\ncomfort with you. Even of this, even of this, the Web had need!\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE STEPS\n\n\n\"When you come to the city, seek out the House of Wisdom, for it is the\nbest house, and there you shall do well.\"\n\nThat was what the old people said to the boy when he started on his\njourney, and he kept the saying well in mind.\n\n\"How shall I know the house?\" he had asked them; and they answered, \"By\nthe look of the steps before the door, and by the number of people who\ngo in and out. More we may not tell you.\"\n\nThe boy pondered these sayings as he journeyed.\n\n\"It will be a fine house, no doubt,\" he said. \"I shall know it by its\nsize and splendor; but as for what they said of the steps, I make little\nof that part.\"\n\nBy and by he came to the city, and looked about him eagerly for the\nHouse of Wisdom. Presently, on his right, he saw a house of plain yet\nstately aspect. Clear were its windows and high, and from one a face\nlooked at him of a reverend man, calm and kind.\n\n\"Might that be Wisdom?\" thought the boy. Then he looked at the steps,\nand saw them high and steep, and shining white, as if they had little\nuse. The door stood open wide, but few came or went through it.\n\n\"This cannot be the House of Wisdom!\" said the boy. \"I must seek\nfarther.\"\n\nSo he went farther. And presently he saw on his left a house rich and\ngay of aspect, shining with gold, and all the windows flung up to the\nair; and from one window a face of a fair woman laughed on him, and\nbeckoned, and waved a tinsel scarf with bells that tinkled sweetly on\nhis ear.\n\n\"Oh,\" said the boy, \"if this might but be the House of Wisdom! but what\nof the steps before the door?\"\n\nHe looked at the steps; and they were wide and shallow, and trodden into\nholes and valleys by many feet; and up those steps, and through the\nopen door, a throng was constantly passing, laughing and singing, and\npelting one another with flowers and spangles.\n\n\"Ah,\" said the boy, \"this is, indeed, the House of Wisdom! for true it\nis that I can tell by the steps, and by the people who go in and out.\"\n\nAnd he entered the House of Folly.\n\n\n\n\nTHE GLASS\n\n\n\"This is extremely interesting!\" said the man. \"You say that I am not\none being but many, and that your glass will show me my component parts\nas separate entities?\"\n\n\"Precisely!\" said the Wandering Magician.\n\nThe man looked in the glass.\n\n\"Here I see several beings!\" he said. \"Some of them are\ndistinguished-looking, that one on horseback, for example, and the one\nwith the lyre. But others have a frivolous air, and there is one with\npositively a low expression; and yet he is attractive too, when I look\ncloser, and I seem to know him. What are these creatures?\"\n\n\"These are your tastes!\" said the Wandering Magician.\n\n\"Oh!\" said the man. \"Well, some of them are certainly elegant and\nrefined. But whom have we here? what strange pigmies are these?\"\n\n\"Your virtues!\" said the Magician.\n\n\"Dear me!\" said the man. \"Yes, to be sure, I recognize them. But what\nmakes them so small?\"\n\n\"This is not a magnifying glass!\" said the Magician.\n\n\"But they are pretty!\" said the man. \"Beautiful, I may say. That little\nfellow with the twinkle in his eye and his coat out at elbows; he is\ncharming, if I do say it. But what is going on now? here comes a crowd\nof big, hulking, ruffianly fellows, jostling the little people and\ndriving them to the wall. What a villainous-looking set! Their faces are\nwholly strange to me; what are they?\"\n\n\"Your vices!\" said the Wandering Magician.\n\nBut when the man would have fallen upon him, he was gone.\n\n\n\n\nIN THE SHADED ROOM\n\n\nThe shaded room was still; the doctor and the nurse sat watching by the\nbedside; the firelight crept into the corners and whispered to the\nshadows: there was no other sound.\n\n\"You think you are ready to go?\" asked the Angel-who-attends-to-things.\n\n\"Yes!\" said the man. \"I have drained the Cup from brim to bitter lees; I\nhave read the Book from cover to cover. I am ready.\"\n\n\"Humph!\" said the Angel-who-attends-to-things. \"Well, come along!\" and\nhe led the man out, but did not shut the door after him.\n\nThe man had lived in state and splendor, and he had thought that some\nceremony would attend his departure, but there was nothing of the sort.\nThe only change was, that as he went along the Angel seemed to be\ngrowing very tall, and he very little, so that he had to reach up to\nhold the strong white hand, and his feet were well-nigh taken from under\nhim by the sweep of the great white robes; also he felt afraid and\nfoolish, he knew not why.\n\nSo they came at last to a gate, through which many children were passing\nwith glad faces, carrying tablets of amber and pearl; and beside the\ngate sat another Angel, writing in a book; and when a child passed in,\nthis Angel nodded and smiled to him, and wrote a word in his book.\n\nNow the Angel of the Gate looked up, and saw the\nAngel-who-attends-to-things, and beside him the man, holding fast to his\nhand, and feeling afraid and foolish.\n\n\"From the Primary Department?\" asked the Angel of the Gate.\n\n\"Yes!\" said the other, who never wasted words.\n\nThe Angel of the Gate looked the man over carefully. \"His hands are\ndirty!\" he said at length.\n\n\"Yes!\" said the Angel-who-attends-to-things; \"he has not learned to keep\nthem clean.\"\n\n\"And there is mud on his feet!\"\n\n\"Yes, he will walk in the mire.\"\n\n\"And his clothes are torn, and stained with blood.\"\n\n\"Yes, he has been quarrelling with his brother and beating him.\"\n\nAt this the man found his voice and cried out, though he felt more\nafraid and foolish than ever, and his voice sounded high and thin, like\nthat of a tiny child.\n\n\"I have no brother!\" said the man.\n\nThe two Angels looked at each other.\n\n\"You see!\" said the Angel-who-attends-to-things. \"I knew how it would\nbe.\"\n\nThen he turned to the man. \"Run along back,\" he said, \"and try to do\nbetter next time. I left the door open for you.\"\n\nAnd in the shaded room, while the firelight whispered to the shadows in\nthe corners, the doctor rose from the bedside, and spoke softly to the\nnurse.\n\n\"The crisis is past,\" he said, \"he will live.\"\n\n\n\n\nHELL GATE\n\n\nHell Gate clanged behind the youth, and those without stood and looked\none upon another.\n\nFirst came his friend, and said to the keeper of the gate:\n\n\"Let him out! he is young, and his work still to do. Who knows but he\nmay amend, and do it yet?\"\n\nNext came his Love, and clasped the bars, and wept upon them.\n\n\"Let him out!\" she cried. \"We are too young to die, and without him I\ncannot live.\"\n\nLast came his mother, for she had a long way to come.\n\n\"What is all this ado?\" she said. \"Let me in to him!\" and she broke the\nbars and entered.\n\n\n\n\nTHE THORN\n\n\nWhen the youth started, he passed through the Forbidden Wood, and\nwandered there, plucking and tasting the fruit, smelling the flowers,\nevil and sweet; and as he plucked and smelled, it chanced that a thorn\nentered his breast, for it lay open. He took little heed, for he was\nyoung, and the life strong in him; so the thorn made its way in, and\npresently was buried in the flesh; and he forgot it, for it gave him no\nhurt.\n\nBy and by he came out of that wood, and shook the dust of it from his\nfeet, and set his face toward the mountains, for a voice told him that\nthere he should find his life and his Love. And so it fell, for as he\nfared on, his Love came to meet him, and he knew her, and she him. Then\neach held out arms of longing, and embraced the other tenderly,\nspeaking fond words; but when the maiden pressed her arms about the man,\na pang shot through his breast, bitter as death; and he trembled, for he\nknew it for the piercing of the thorn.\n\nThe man set his teeth, that he might make no outcry, and then he looked\nat his Love: and see! she was snow-pale, and held her heart with both\nhands, as if in pain.\n\n\"What is it?\" cried the man. \"What hurts my Love?\" and she answered, \"I\nknow not; a pang shot through my heart, bitter as death.\"\n\n\"Oh, Love, what like was the pang?\" cried the man; and heard her words\nbefore she spoke; for she said, \"Like the piercing of a thorn!\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE SERPENT\n\n\nThree boys were playing together in a field; and as they played, one\npassing by called to them: \"Beware! in the corner of that field is a\npoisonous serpent, whose bite is death.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said one child. \"How terrible, to think that anything evil\nshould be in a place so lovely. Let me flee from it!\" and he wept, and\nran from the place.\n\n\"Why,\" said the second child, \"should such a thing be here? what is the\nreason of it?\" and he found him a safe place, and sat down to ponder on\nthe matter.\n\nThe third child picked up a stone. \"Show it to me!\" he said.\n\n\n\n\nIF THIS SHOULD BE\n\nI\n\n\nIn the Place of Spirits, where many come seeking a home, and all who\nearn shall find one, a band of child-spirits played about their door,\nsinging, and crowning one another with flowers. And as they played,\nthere drifted by a gray Shape, and stayed beside the gate, and wrung its\nshadowy hands.\n\nSaid the eldest child to the Angel who was their guardian; \"Dear, there\nis one seeking a home; shall we call her in?\"\n\n\"Oh, hush! oh, hush!\" said the Angel. \"You may not speak to her.\"\n\n\"But,\" said the second child, \"she stops at our gate, and gazes at us\nwith mournful eyes. Let us call her in!\"\n\n\"Oh, hush! oh, hush!\" said the Angel. \"You may not look at her.\"\n\n\"Nay!\" cried the youngest; \"but she holds out her arms, and makes a moan\nlike the wind at night. Why may we not call her in?\"\n\nThen the Angel wept, for she had been a woman.\n\n\"Must I tell you?\" she cried. \"It is she who should have been your\nmother, and she would not.\"\n\nThe children gazed, with calm, bright eyes. \"What is a mother?\" they\nasked.\n\n\"Alas! alas!\" said the Angel; and her tears fell down like rain.\n\n\"Alas! alas!\" moaned the gray Shape at the gate, and beat the shadow\nthat was her breast, and trailed away in the gathering dusk.\n\n\n\n\nIF THIS SHOULD BE\n\nII\n\n\nWhen the Little Sister went away, it was in such haste that she left her\nconvent robes behind; and this troubled her so that she spoke of it to\nthe Angel at the Gate. \"You see,\" she said, \"I had no idea that I was\ncoming; I fell asleep in my cell, and woke up in this beautiful homelike\nplace. But these white garments are not suitable for me; could I find a\nblack robe, do you think?\"\n\n\"Oh no!\" said the Angel; \"we all wear white here, and it is so much\nprettier and more becoming. Besides, you must make haste, for they have\nbeen waiting long for you.\"\n\n\"Who have been waiting?\" asked the Little Sister in wonder.\n\n\"The children, to be sure!\" said the Angel. \"See! there they come,\nrunning to meet you.\"\n\nThe Little Sister looked, and there came hastening toward her a lovely\nband, little children and older ones, with floating locks and starry\neyes, and all the eyes fixed on her with looks of love, and all the arms\nstretched out to her with gestures of longing.\n\n\"Oh, the darling, darling children!\" cried the Little Sister. \"Oh, the\nlittle angels! Now I know that this is heaven indeed.\"\n\nShe fell on her knees, and the children clustered round her, caressing\nher, and murmuring sweet words in her ear; and all in a moment the\nhunger that had been at her heart through the years was stilled, and she\nopened her arms and gathered the children to her breast and wept; happy\ntears were those!\n\n\"Sweethearts,\" cried the Little Sister; \"dear loves, tell me, whose\nlight and joy and blessing are you?\"\n\n\"Yours, of course!\" answered the children.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FEAST\n\n\nThe little Prince was coming; and in the dim, rich house that was his,\nsome children were making ready a feast for him. They strewed sweet\nflowers, and lighted the candles, and made ready the table, white and\nfair, with the gold and silver service.\n\n\"It should stand here!\" said one.\n\n\"Nay!\" said another; \"this is the place for it; and the candles must be\nover yonder.\" And he moved them.\n\n\"That I will never consent to!\" said the first. \"Let me do things\nproperly, while you go and change your dress for a suitable one.\"\n\n\"I shall not change my dress!\" said the second child.\n\n\"Oh, shame!\" said the first.\n\nWhile they wrangled, the children of the wood peeped in at the door,\nragged and rosy and bright-eyed, and laughed, and ran away.\n\n\"Let us make a feast too,\" they said, \"even if we have no fine things.\"\n\nThey set them down under a great oak tree that grew beside the way, and\none gathered acorn cups, and another pulled burdock leaves and laid them\nfor a cloth, and a third plucked the wild strawberries that shone like\nrubies in the grass.\n\n\"Here is a fine feast!\" cried the wood children.\n\nJust then along came the little Prince, and they called to him, \"Come\nand play with us, and share our feast!\"\n\n\"With all my heart!\" said the little Prince. \"But are there not other\nchildren in the house yonder who would like to join us?\"\n\n\"Nay, they are busy quarrelling!\" said the wood children.\n\n\"Then we do not want them!\" said the little Prince. He sat down with\nthem under the oak tree, and they all ate and drank and were right\nmerry.\n\nBut the children in the dim, rich house pulled the table this way and\nthat, and moved the lights hither and yon, and looked at their delicate\nrobes and sighed: \"The little Prince is long in coming!\" they said.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SPIRIT\n\n\nA man was toiling, seeking, toiling, by hot sun and cold moon, with\npickaxe and with spade; and as he toiled there came a bright Spirit, and\nlooked him in the face, and smiled.\n\n\"Who are you, fair Spirit?\" asked the man. And the other answered, \"My\nname is Truth!\"\n\nThen the man threw down his pick and spade, and ran, and brought costly\nrobes and wrapped the Spirit in them; and set him on a throne, and bound\nhim fast with chains of gold, and covered his face with a veil of\nprecious web, and fell down and worshipped him. Happy man was he!\n\nNow by and by as he worshipped a traveller came by that way, and stopped\nto look.\n\n\"Fair answer to your prayers, brother!\" said the traveller. \"What God do\nyou worship?\"\n\nAnd the man said, \"The Spirit of Truth.\"\n\n\"Nay!\" said the other; \"how can that be? I met that spirit but now upon\nthe road. Gipsying along he was, light-foot, light-clad, and over his\nshoulder pickaxe and spade.\"\n\nThen the man cried out in terror, and ran to the throne, and pulled the\nveil away, and tore the robes apart: and lo! the veil holding empty air,\nand the great robes folded in upon themselves, and the gold chains\nbinding them.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ROOTS\n\n\nA child found in its garden a plant. Fair and stately it was, full of\nrosy buds, with green leaves strong and luminous. The child admired it\ngreatly.\n\n\"How fair it is!\" he said. \"How full of light and fragrance! but how\ndoes it grow? One should know that.\"\n\nHe looked down, and saw that the plant came up out of the ground.\n\n\"This is strange!\" he said. \"How should so fair a thing come up out of\nthis black and dirty soil? I must look to this!\"\n\nHe dug away the soil, and found the roots of the plant, bare and\ntwisted, clinging to the soil and dark with the touch of it.\n\n\"Ah!\" said the child, \"this is terrible. Has that fair crown of rose and\ngreen drawn its life from so foul a source as this? Oh, sorrow and\nshame!\" and he wept, and wrung his hands.\n\nAs he sorrowed, the Angel of the Garden passed by, with her arms full of\nflowers and fruit.\n\n\"Little one,\" she said, \"have you anything for me?\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said the child. \"Look! I had this fair plant, the sweetest in\nthe world, but I find that its life grows out of the black and ugly\nmould; its roots are black with it. Look! the flower begins to droop!\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the Angel. \"Oh, the pity! you have killed it.\"\n\n\n\n\nALONG THE WAY\n\n\nIn the early morning, when the dew was bright on the grass, a child\npassed along the highway, and sang as he went. It was spring, and the\nferns were unrolling their green bundles, and the hepatica showed purple\nunder her gray fur. The child looked about him with eager, happy eyes,\nrejoicing in all he saw, and answering the birds' songs with notes as\ngay as their own. Now and then he dropped a seed here or there, for he\nhad a handful of them; sometimes he threw one to the birds; again he\ndropped one for the squirrels; and still again he would toss one into\nthe air for very play, for that was what he loved best.\n\nNow it chanced that he passed by a spot where the earth lay bare, with\nno tree or plant to cover its brown breast.\n\n\"Oh!\" said the child. \"Poor place, will nothing grow in you? here is a\nseed for you, and now I will plant it properly.\"\n\nSo he planted the seed properly, and smoothed the earth over it, and\nwent his way singing, and looking at the white clouds in the sky and at\nthe green things unfolding around him.\n\nIt was a long, long journey the child had to go. Many perils beset his\npath, many toils he had to overpass, many wounds and bruises he got on\nthe way. When he returned, one would hardly have known, to look at him,\nthat he was still a child. The day had been cruelly hot, and still the\nafternoon sun beat fiercely down on the white road. His clothes were\ntorn and dusty; he toiled on, and sighed as he went, longing for some\nspot of shade where he might sit down to rest.\n\nPresently he saw in the distance a waving of green, and a cool shadow\nstretching across the white glowing road: and he drew near, and it was a\ntree, young and vigorous, spreading its arms abroad, mantled in green\nleaves that whispered and rustled.\n\nThankfully the child threw himself down in the pleasant shade, and\nrested from his weary journey; and as he rested, he raised his eyes to\nthe green whispering curtain above him, and blessed the hand that\nplanted the tree.\n\nThe little green leaves nodded and rustled, and whispered to one\nanother:\n\n\"Yes! yes! it is himself he is blessing. But he does not know, and that\nis the best of all!\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE GRAVE DIGGERS\n\n\nA youth stood in the doorway of his house and looked out upon the road\nhe was to travel.\n\n\"Alas!\" he said. \"It is a rough and stony road, and I am far from\nstrong: also my feet are tender, and I cannot bear pain. How shall I\ntake this hard journey?\"\n\nThen, as he sighed and looked, he was ware of two coming towards him\nwith pick and mattock on their shoulders. Swiftly they came, and soon\nthey were at his side, fawning on him, and speaking in soft, wheedling\nvoices. Their faces were eager and servile, their eyes bright as flame.\n\n\"Dear youth,\" they said, \"we are come to smooth the road for you. It is\nour trade; look, we have our tools with us! Give us but leave and we\nwill work for you gladly, and ask no pay.\"\n\n\"What men are ye?\" asked the youth.\n\n\"We are called Temptation and Opportunity,\" they answered; \"but what\nmatters this name or that? we seek but to serve you. Rest you still, and\nsoon the way shall be clear before you.\"\n\nSo the youth went back into his house and set him down, and watched how\nall day long the two toiled apart with mattock and pick, smoothing and\nlevelling, lifting stones out of the way, and hewing down brambles and\ntangled trees. But at night he laid him down and slept: and then those\ntwo ran speedily together, and with fierce looks and eager hands they\ndug and howked a grave in the earth. Deep it was, and lay straight\nacross the road; yet so cunningly placed that it could not be seen till\none was close upon it.\n\nMorning came, and the youth stood at his door again, and saw the way\nclear and smooth before him, and the two bowing low, with smiling faces\nand fawning hands stretched out.\n\n\"Come, good Master!\" they cried. \"Come, dear youth, and let us bring you\non your way!\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE SICK CHILD\n\n\nThe sick child sat at his window and looked out on the summer world. He\nwas sad at heart, for pain racked him, and weakness held him still; but\nyet he smiled, because that pleased his mother.\n\n\"I am of no use in the world,\" said the child to himself; \"I am of less\nworth than yonder broken bough that lies on the ground, for that at\nleast gives trouble to no one, and by and by it will make a fire to warm\nsome poor soul. But still I must smile, lest my mother should be sad.\"\n\nPresently the old field mouse who lived over the way came out of her\nhouse, with a tiny brown velvet bundle in her mouth. It was one of her\neight young ones, and she was taking it to a new place, for the mole who\nwas their landlord had turned them out. She had taken five of the\nlittle ones to the new house, but now she was weary, and her jaws ached\nsadly with holding the heavy little creatures.\n\n\"I cannot carry them all!\" she said. \"The rest must die, since it cannot\nbe helped.\"\n\nJust then she looked up, and saw the child smiling at the window.\n\n\"Look!\" she said to herself. \"That child has been watching me. He smiles\nwith pleasure at the beauty of my young ones, but he has not seen the\nprettiest one yet. It will never do to give up now; I must try again,\nand let him see that there are eight, all the handsomest of their\nfamily.\"\n\nSo she tried again, and brought all the eight in safety to their new\nhome.\n\nBy and by a horse came along the road, dragging a heavy load. He was\nold, and his bones ached, and the collar hurt his neck.\n\n\"Why should I not give up,\" he said to himself, \"and refuse to go on? my\nmaster could only beat me, and he does that as it is. If I were dead, I\nshould not feel the blows; why should I struggle further with this\nburden?\"\n\nJust then he happened to lift his eyes, and saw the child smiling at the\nwindow.\n\n\"Ah!\" he said, \"that child is smiling at me. He sees that I was once a\nfine animal; he knows good blood when he sees it. Ah! if he had seen me\nin my youth! But I can still show him something.\" And he arched his neck\nproudly, and stepped out bravely, tossing his head, and the load came\nmore easily after him.\n\nBy and by a man passed by, walking slowly, with bent head and sorrowful\nlook. He had lost the treasure of his heart, and the whole world was\nblack about him. \"Why should I live longer?\" he said to himself. \"I have\nnothing to live for in this world of misery. Let me lie down and die; in\ndeath I can at least forget my pain and the pain of others.\"\n\nAs he spoke, he lifted his eyes by chance, and saw the child smiling at\nthe window.\n\n\"Come!\" said the man. \"There at least is one happy heart; and he\nsmiles, as if he were glad to see me pass. He is a sick child, too,\npale and thin; I must not cast a shadow on his cheerful day. And indeed,\nthe sun is bright and warm, even if my joy be cold.\"\n\nHe smiled and nodded to the child, and the child nodded to him, and\nwaved his hand, and the man went on, carrying the smile warm at his\nheart, and took up the burden of life again.\n\nNow it was evening. The child was weary. His head drooped on his bosom,\nand his eyes closed. Then his mother came, and lifted him from his\nchair, and laid him in his little bed.\n\n\"God bless him!\" she said softly. \"He has had a happy day, for he is\nsmiling even in his sleep.\"\n\n\n\n\nAT LONG LAST\n\n\n\"Heart-of-mine, are you come at last?\"\n\n\"At long, long last, Beloved!\"\n\n\"Was it so long?\"\n\n\"Long as grief, cold as the stone above your grave, empty as the noonday\nsky!\"\n\n\"Oh! how was it empty, when I left the cup brimming over for you?\nHeart-of-mine, whom met you by the way?\"\n\n\"Only a man, crippled in the mire, cursing as he struggled. I shut my\nears against his foul speech and passed on.\"\n\n\"Oh! if it were my brother, whom you should have helped! whom else?\"\n\n\"Only a woman, bowed under a burden; my own was more than I could bear,\nand I let her be.\"\n\n\"Alas! if it were my sister, and in her pack the balm that should have\nhealed you! Whom else again?\"\n\n\"None else, save children: they cried about my path, but how could I\nstay for them while you waited?\"\n\n\"Alas! if among the children were those I might not bear to you! And\nfare you well, Heart-of-mine, for I must be gone, and now the time is\nlong indeed.\"\n\n\"Oh! whither, Beloved of my soul, from my arms that clasp yet cannot\nhold you?\"\n\n\"Heart-of-mine, where but back to earth, to do the work you left undone,\nto gather up, with patience and with toil, the sheaves you left\nbehind!\"\n\n\n\n\nGILLYFLOWER GENTLEMAN\n\n\n\"Why do you play alone, dear,\" asked the Play Angel, \"and look so sadly\nover your shoulder at the other children?\"\n\n\"Because they are so selfish!\" said the child. \"They will not play with\nme.\"\n\n\"Oh, the pity!\" said the Angel. \"Tell me all about it.\"\n\n\"I want to play one game, and they all want to play another!\" said the\nchild. \"It is very unkind of them.\"\n\n\"Did you ever play Gillyflower Gentleman?\" asked the Angel.\n\n\"No!\" said the child. \"What is it?\"\n\n\"You shall see!\" said the Angel. \"Let us ask the others if they know\nit.\"\n\nThe other children did not know it, but they were eager to learn, and\nsoon they were all playing Gillyflower Gentleman; they played till all\ntheir breath was gone, and they had to sit down on the haycocks to rest.\n\n\"That was a great game!\" said the first child. \"I will play yours now,\nif you wish me to.\"\n\n\"We were just going to tell you that we would play yours!\" said the\nother children. So they played both, and the Play Angel went back to her\nwork.\n\n\n\n\nTHE JUDGMENT\n\n\n\"_Of judgment, because the Prince of this World is judged._\"--\n\nNow came the day when the Prince should be brought to judgment. Slowly\nhe came, under the weight of his fetters, that clanged about his wrists\nand feet. His head was low on his breast, and his eyes heavy; so he\nstood before the judgment seat, and spoke not, nor raised his eyes.\n\nThe little Judge looked on him, and sighed, and spoke.\n\n\"It was you who saw me hungry and naked and cold, and drew your furs\nround you and passed by.\"\n\n\"Yea!\" said the Prince.\n\n\"It was you who set me cruel tasks, and smote me when I fainted under\nthem.\"\n\n\"Yea!\" said the Prince.\n\n\"It was you who cast me into prison, into darkness and bitterness as of\ndeath.\"\n\n\"Yea!\" said the Prince.\n\n\"Alas!\" said the little Judge. \"Poor soul, did you know no better?\"\n\nWhen the Prince heard that a great sob burst from him, and he fell on\nhis face before the judgment seat, and his fetters clanged loud on the\nstone.\n\nOh! then came little feet pattering down the steps, and little hands\nlifted him, and he rose to his feet; but the chains lay where they fell.\n\n\"Come, Brother!\" said the little Judge. \"We will go back, and begin\nagain together!\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE BLIND CHILD\n\n\n\"Mother,\" said the blind child, \"what a pity it is that everybody in\nthis village, except you, is so ugly!\"\n\n\"Bless your heart, my darling,\" said the mother; \"why do you say that?\"\n\n\"I was sitting by the fountain,\" said the blind child, \"listening to the\nfalling water, and the neighbors came to fill their pitchers, and I\nheard them talking. It was terrible! it seems that every one in the\nwhole village is either bald or cross-eyed, wrinkled or misshapen. All\nsave you, mother!\"\n\n\"Bless your heart,\" said the mother; and she looked at her gray, worn\nface in the little glass that hung on the wall.\n\n\"They did not like to praise your beauty before me!\" cried the blind\nchild. \"They spoke your name, and then said, 'Oh! hush, there is the\nchild!' Was it not foolish of them, mother? as if I did not know!\"\n\n\"Bless your heart!\" said the mother.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CAKE\n\n\nOnce a Cake would go seek his fortune in the world, and he took his\nleave of the Pan he was baked in.\n\n\"I know my destiny,\" said the Cake. \"I must be eaten, since to that end\nI was made; but I am a good cake, if I say it who should not, and I\nwould fain choose the persons I am to benefit.\"\n\n\"I don't see what difference it makes to you!\" said the Pan.\n\n\"But imagination is hardly your strong point!\" said the Cake.\n\n\"Huh!\" said the Pan.\n\nThe Cake went on his way, and soon he passed by a cottage door where sat\na woman spinning, and her ten children playing about her.\n\n\"Oh!\" said the woman, \"what a beautiful cake!\" and she put out her hand\nto take him.\n\n\"Be so good as to wait a moment!\" said the Cake. \"Will you kindly tell\nme what you would do with me if I should yield myself up to you?\"\n\n\"I shall break you into ten pieces,\" said the woman, \"and give one to\neach of my ten children. So you will give ten pleasures, and that is a\ngood thing.\"\n\n\"Oh, that would be very nice, I am sure,\" said the Cake; \"but if you\nwill excuse me for mentioning it, your children seem rather dirty,\nespecially their hands, and I confess I should like to keep my frosting\nunsullied, so I think I will go a little further.\"\n\n\"As you will!\" said the woman. \"After all, the brown loaf is better for\nthe children.\"\n\nSo the Cake went further, and met a fair child, richly dressed, with\ncoral lips and eyes like sunlit water. When the child saw the Cake, he\nsaid like the woman, \"Oh, what a beautiful Cake!\" and put out his hand\nto take it.\n\n\"I am sure I should be most happy!\" said the Cake. \"And you will not\ntake it amiss, I am confident, if I ask with whom you will share me.\"\n\n\"I shall not share you with any one!\" said the child. \"I shall eat you\nmyself, every crumb. What do you take me for?\"\n\n\"Good gracious!\" cried the Cake. \"This will never do. Consider my\nsize,--and yours! You would be very ill!\"\n\n\"I don't care!\" said the child. \"I'd rather be ill than give any away.\"\nAnd he fixed greedy eyes on the Cake, and stretched forth his hand\nagain.\n\n\"This is really terrible!\" cried the Cake. \"What is one's frosting to\nthis? I will go back to the woman with the ten children.\"\n\nHe turned and ran back, leaving the child screaming with rage and\ndisappointed greed. But as he ran, a hungry Puppy met him, and swallowed\nhim at a gulp, and went on licking his chops and wagging his tail.\n\n\"Huh!\" said the Pan.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SERMON\n\n\nThe minister had just finished his great sermon. The air still quivered\nwith his burning words, and the people sat erect, disturbed,\nembarrassed; yet still he lingered a moment in his place.\n\n\"Is there,\" he asked, \"one here in whose breast these words strike like\na barbed arrow, for the truth that is in them?\" and he sat down.\n\n\"That was hard on John,\" said old James; \"but he deserves it, every\nword.\"\n\n\"A blow from the shoulder for James!\" said old John; \"time he got one\ntoo, if it is not too late.\"\n\n\"I wonder if either of those two old sinners will take his medicine and\nbe helped by it,\" said old William.\n\nBut the little saint, the little saint, hurried home, and knelt by her\nlittle bed, and cried aloud in her anguish: \"My God, my God, have mercy\non me, and give me for this stone a heart of flesh!\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE TANGLED SKEIN\n\n\n\"My dear child,\" said the Angel-who-attends-to-things, \"why are you\ncrying so very hard?\"\n\n\"Oh dear! oh dear!\" said the child. \"No one ever had such a dreadful\ntime before, I do believe, and it all comes of trying to be good. Oh\ndear! Oh dear! I wish I was bad; then I should not have all this\ntrouble.\"\n\n\"Yes, you would,\" said the Angel; \"a great deal worse. Now tell me what\nis the matter!\"\n\n\"Look!\" said the child. \"Mother gave me this skein to wind, and I\npromised to do it. But then father sent me on an errand, and it was\nalmost school-time, and I was studying my lesson and going on the\nerrand and winding the skein, all at the same time, and now I have got\nall tangled up in the wool, and I cannot walk either forward or back,\nand oh! dear me, what ever _shall_ I do?\"\n\n\"Sit down!\" said the Angel.\n\n\"But it is school-time!\" said the child.\n\n\"Sit down!\" said the Angel.\n\n\"But father sent me on an errand!\" said the child.\n\n\"SIT DOWN!\" said the Angel; and he took the child by her shoulders and\nset her down.\n\n\"Now sit still!\" he said, and he began patiently to wind up the skein.\nIt was wofully tangled, and knotted about the child's hands and feet; it\nwas a wonder she could move at all; but at last it was all clear, and\nthe Angel handed her the ball.\n\n\"I thank you so very much!\" said the child. \"I was not naughty, was I?\"\n\n\"Not naughty, only foolish; but that does just as much harm sometimes.\"\n\n\"But I was doing right things!\" said the child.\n\n\"But you were doing them in the wrong way!\" said the Angel. \"It is good\nto do an errand, and it is good to go to school, but when you have a\nskein to wind you must sit still.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE NURSLING\n\n\nYesterday, the kind nurse, Yesterday, the wise old woman, sat by the\nfire with her nursling on her knee.\n\n\"Still, my babe, be still!\" she said. \"Listen now, till I sing you a\nsong!\"\n\n\"Oh! I know all your songs,\" said the child. \"I know them by heart, the\nsleepy bed-time songs. But the lovely lady yonder, who smiles at me from\nthe doorway, sings a new song, new and strange, and sweet, sweet. If I\nlisten to her, may be I shall learn it.\"\n\n\"Nay! listen not to her, the gipsy!\" said Yesterday. \"Bide here by the\nfire with me, my babe, and I will tell you a story shall do you good to\nhear.\"\n\n\"Oh! I know all your stories,\" said the child, \"know them every word,\nand some of them are false, and all are dull. But the lovely lady who\nbeckons me from the doorway murmurs strange words, in a new tongue, yet\nclear as light; if I go with her, may be I shall learn it.\"\n\n\"Child, child,\" said the old nurse, \"listen not to her gipsy talk; it is\nfull of peril, and these new words have wicked meanings. Come with me,\nmy darling, and I will show you my garden, full of sweet flowers and\ndelicate fruits and precious herbs. See! they have grown from all time,\nand I gathered them from the four ways of the world, and all for you.\"\n\nThe child laughed, and his laugh rang cruel clear, as when a bird sings\nloud and merry over a new-made grave.\n\n\"Your flowers are faded,\" he said. \"I have tasted your fruits, every\none, and your precious herbs are but a handful of dry leaves and stalks.\nBut the lovely lady who holds out her hands to me from the doorway tells\nme of things unknown, dim lands of furthest dawn, seas that no bark has\never sailed. I will go with her and see them, and live my life.\"\n\n\"Nay now, my child, my darling; stay with me by the fire, in the warm\nsheltered room;\" said Yesterday the nurse, the wise old woman.\n\nBut the child was already gone, with To-morrow, the lovely lady with\nsunrise in her eyes, laughter on her lips, and the knife hidden in her\nhand.\n\n\n\n\nWORMWOOD\n\n\nAll the morning the child ran about his field, smelling the sweet,\ntasting the sweet, plucking the bright and gay; and as he plucked and\nsmelled and tasted, he found among the strawberries a dusky leaf that\nwas bitter in his mouth. \"What is this?\" he asked of the Angel beside\nhim; and the Angel said, \"It is wormwood!\"\n\n\"Pluck it all up!\" cried the child. \"It is bitter and hateful; I will\nhave nought in my field but strawberries and roses.\"\n\nAnd the Angel smiled, with folded hands.\n\nNoon came, and afternoon, with long rays sloping westward; and the child\nwalked in his field with slow and thoughtful steps. There were no\nflowers now in the grass, but everywhere a dusky leaf with dusky\nberries; and the air was full of the fragrance of them, sweet and yet\nbitter; bitter, yet oh, how sweet!\n\n\"What is this,\" the child asked, \"that is bitter, and yet sweeter than\naught else in the world?\"\n\nAnd the Angel said, \"It is wormwood!\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE PIT\n\n\n\"_Though I make my bed in Hell...._\"\n\nIt was dark in the Pit. The air was heavy with poisonous vapors; the\nwalls were foul with the slime of uncounted generations; under foot was\nthe horror of the ages; yet still the man slept, for he was used to the\nplace, and his brain sodden with the fumes of it. But by and by, as he\nslept, a sound crept into his ears, a weary, crying voice that went on\nand on and would not still; till the man stirred uneasily in his sleep,\nand awoke with the sound in his ears.\n\n\"Who is this,\" he said, \"that breaks my slumber?\"\n\nHe hearkened, and the voice went crying on:\n\n\"Oh! the blackness and the horror! oh! the dreadful, dreadful place!\nwill none help me out?\"\n\n\"What ails you at the place?\" asked the man. \"One sleeps well enough, if\nfolk would but be quiet.\"\n\nAnd the voice went clamoring on; the piteousness of it might have\nstirred the dead things under foot.\n\n\"Oh! for one breath of God's pure air! for one glimpse of God's good\nsunshine! Oh! the horror of it, to die in the foul dark! will none help\nme out?\"\n\nThen the man looked, for his eyes were used to the mirk of the Pit, and\nsaw beside him the face of a youth, glimmering white as the dead moon at\nmidday, and shining with tears and sweat of agony; and the lad was\ntearing at the walls, trying to make a way out; but his hands slipped on\nthe slimy stones, and he fell back moaning and crying.\n\n\"Here is a great ado!\" said the man. \"But if it goes so ill with you, I\nwill find a way out, if way there be.\"\n\nHe rose from the wallow where he lay, and with his strong hands felt\nalong the walls, and found a crack between two great stones, and set his\nstrength to rend them apart; but they clung together like the lips of\nDeath. Long he struggled, yet could not stir them; and ever the doleful\nvoice beat like a bell in his ears, till it seemed to him that he must\ngive his life, so but that lad might go free.\n\nSuddenly he felt a touch upon him, and in that same moment the stones\nmoving under his hand: and looking, he was ware through the glimmering\ndark of another hand laid on the stone, and of one toiling beside him,\nstriving even as he strove. Then the man set all the strength that was\nin him, and the great stones crumbled apart, and through the opening the\nfresh wind blew and the sun shone.\n\nThen those two, the man and he who had toiled beside him, lifted the\nyouth between them and brought him out into the open day; and the lad\ncried out once more, sobbing now for pure joy, and kissed their hands\nthat had brought him out, and went singing on his way.\n\nBut the man stayed, and looked on that one who had toiled beside him.\n\"Oh!\" he said, \"it was you!\"\n\n\"Who else?\" said the other.\n\n\"But how came you there?\" asked the man.\n\nAnd the other answered, \"I went in with you!\"\n\n\n\n\nHOSPITALITY\n\n\n\"I hear,\" said the hospitable man, \"that my friend has come from over\nseas. Now therefore let us do thus and so, for he is the man of all men\nwhom I delight to honor.\"\n\nSo the hospitable man hurried to and fro all day, gathering this that\nwas rich, and that that was costly, and the other that was delicate; and\nbidding his acquaintance come and help him do honor to his friend.\n\nNext day he met another friend, who was a physician.\n\n\"Whither away so fast?\" asked the hospitable man.\n\n\"Do not stay me!\" said the physician. \"The case is urgent. I am going to\nSo-and-So.\" And he named the friend from over seas.\n\n\"You distress me infinitely!\" cried the hospitable man. \"Is So-and-So\nill?\"\n\n\"Some rascal poisoned him last night,\" said the physician. \"A bad\nbusiness. I doubt if he recovers.\"\n\n\"Good God!\" cried the hospitable man. \"He dined with me last night.\"\n\n\"Oh! was it you?\" said the physician.\n\n\n\n\nTHE POT\n\n\nThe great Pot boiled and bubbled over the crackling flames. Fat and\nlean, sweet and bitter, had gone to fill it, and all seethed merrily\ntogether. \"Hubble bubble!\" said the Pot.\n\nNow it came to pass after a time that a certain part of what was within\nrose to the top, and mantled there, frothing and eddying.\n\n\"I am the cream!\" it said. \"This is my proper place, the top of the Pot.\nUnder me the mass seethes darkling, and from it I rise to light and air.\nMy glory rejoices; this is as it should be!\"\n\nNow came the Cook, and lifted the lid of the Pot and looked in. \"Ah!\" he\nsaid. \"The scum has risen, and must be taken off, lest the meat be\nspoiled.\" And he took it off.\n\n\"Hubble bubble!\" said the Pot.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BODY\n\n\n\"But you don't understand!\" said the Soul. \"It is my body that makes all\nthe trouble. Its nerves are all atwist, its brain does not work\nproperly, its heart is too small. _I_ am all right: if I could have\nanother chance, in a decently furnished body, you would see what a\ndifferent creature I should be.\"\n\n\"Very well!\" said the Angel-who-attends-to-things. \"I know several other\nsouls who are wishing for a change; you may try their bodies, and see if\nyou can suit yourself.\"\n\nThe Soul thanked the Angel joyfully, and flew in the direction he\npointed out. Presently he came to the body of a fair woman, clad in\nwhite, with roses in its hands.\n\n\"This is beautiful!\" said the Soul. \"This is exactly what I want.\" He\ncrept in, and flowed through the white body, and it moved and rose up\nwith him, and went to and fro.\n\nBut soon the Soul cried out: \"Oh! this body pinches me; it is too tight.\nBesides, it has the habit of fasting, and mortification, and I am used\nto a body that smokes. This will never do!\" And he crept out again, and\nwent further.\n\nPresently he came to a stalwart body of a man, with bones and sinews\nknit of iron.\n\n\"Ah!\" said the Soul. \"Beauty is after all a slight thing. Strength is\nwhat one needs; this is the body for me.\" And he slipped in, and flowed\nthrough the body, and it moved, and rose up with him, and walked with\nswift and powerful strides.\n\n\"Good heavens!\" cried the Soul. \"This will never do. This body is far\ntoo big for me; I feel it all loose, and full of cold draughts. I shall\ncertainly get the rheumatism. And I don't care about these things it is\ndoing, hewing wood and carrying water for other people. I have made a\nmistake; let me correct it before it is too late!\" and he crept out.\n\nGoing further, he came upon a body sunk in an easy-chair, clad in loose\nand easy garb of a man, and by it a table with glasses and bottles: and\nthe Soul yearned toward it. \"Ah!\" cried the Soul. \"After all, there is\nnothing like one's own!\" And he crept into the body, and flowed through\nand through it; and the body stretched itself with a long, long sigh,\nand put its hand out to the bottle, and drank, and chuckled to itself.\n\n\"But how about those others who wanted a change?\" asked the Soul of the\nAngel-who-attends-to-things. \"I trust I am not disappointing any of them\nin taking up this dear old comfortable body again?\"\n\n\"Oh no!\" said the Angel. \"They did not like its looks at all, and\ndecided to go on to another world.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE RULER.\n\n\nWhen it was time for the Child to have lessons, the Teacher-Angel gave\nhim a sheet of paper, smooth and white, and a pencil, and a ruler.\n\n\"Write as well as you can,\" he said; \"and mind you keep the lines\nstraight!\"\n\nThe Child admired the ruler greatly; \"I will put it up on the wall,\" he\nsaid, \"where I can see it always.\" So he put it up on the wall, and the\nsunbeams, hardly brighter than itself, sparkled on it.\n\n\"It must be pure gold,\" said the Child; \"there is nothing else so\nbeautiful in the world.\" And then he began his task.\n\nBy and by the lesson time was over, and the Teacher-Angel came to see\nwhat had been done. The Child showed him the paper on which he had\nwritten his task. Up and down went the lines, here and there, from side\nto side of the sheet, which was covered with sprawling, straggling\nletters. There were smudges, too, where he had tried to rub something\nout; it was not a pretty page.\n\n\"What is this?\" asked the Teacher-Angel. \"Where is your ruler?\"\n\n\"There it is,\" said the Child. \"Up on the wall. It was so beautiful, I\nput it up there where I could see it always. See where it hangs! But\nmethinks it is not so bright as it was.\"\n\n\"No!\" said the Teacher-Angel. \"It would have been brighter if you had\nused it.\"\n\n\"But I admired it greatly,\" said the Child.\n\n\"But your lines are crooked!\" said the Angel.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TORCH-BEARER\n\n\nA voice came ringing down the way: \"Room! room for the Torch-bearer!\nroom for the keeper of the gates of To-morrow! room!\"\n\n\"Ah! yes,\" I said. \"It is he, the great sage, who has lightened the\nworld-shadows this many a year. Who should bear the torch but he?\"\n\nI looked, and the sage passed, his arms folded on his breast, his calm\neyes bent forward, seeing many things: but no torch was in his hand.\n\nAnd still the cry came ringing down the world's way: \"Room for the\nTorch-bearer! make way! make way for the keeper of the gates of\nTo-morrow!\"\n\n\"Ah!\" I said. \"It will be the mighty leader, then; he who so long has\nmarshalled our hearts, and led us whithersoever he would with a wave of\nhis hand. Hail to him, hail to the Master of Armies!\"\n\nBut as I looked, the Master passed, and his truncheon hung low by his\nside, and his eyes looked downward, remembering; and no torch was in his\nhand.\n\nYet still, as I marvelled, came that great cry ringing down the world's\nway, and now it sounded loud in my ears.\n\n\"Room! room! make way, give place! the Torch-bearer comes. Make way for\nthe keeper of the gates of God!\"\n\nAnd once more I looked.\n\nAh! bare and dusty were her feet, the little woman; and she went bowed,\nand stumbled on the rough stones, for the great torch hung heavy in her\nhand, and heavy the babe on her arm: but he sat there as on a throne,\nand laughed and leaped as he sat, and clutched the living torch and\nshook it, flinging the blaze abroad, and the world-way lightened before\nhim.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STONE BLOCKS\n\n\n\"Why is your little sister crying, dear?\" asked the Play Angel. \"I\nthought you were taking care of her.\"\n\n\"So I am, taking beautiful care of her,\" said the child. \"But the more\nbeautiful care I take, the more she cries. She does not like care to be\ntaken of her.\"\n\n\"Let me see!\" said the Play Angel; and she sat down on the nursery\nfloor. \"Now show me what you have done.\"\n\n\"Look!\" said the child. \"First I showed her all my dolls, and then all\nmy new dresses; and now I have given her my new stone blocks to play\nwith, but she will not play, only puts them in her mouth and cries.\"\n\n\"Perhaps she is hungry!\" said the Play Angel. She took a piece of bread\nfrom the folds of her robe and gave it to the baby; and the baby\nstopped crying, and ate the bread, and laughed and crowed.\n\n\"See!\" said the Angel. \"Now she is happy. Remember, dear, that when\nbabies are hungry, stone blocks do them no good.\"\n\n\"You are a very clever angel to know that!\" said the child.\n\n\"You are a rather foolish child,\" said the Angel, \"or you would have\nfound it out for yourself.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE POTTER\n\n\nA potter wrought at his wheel, singing as he wrought, turning out crocks\nand pipkins of red clay. They were clumsy of shape and rude in the\nmaking, yet they served to hold meal and milk, and the poor folk bought\nof him. But ever, as he shaped the clay, the potter said to himself:\n\"Some day, some day, I will make a cup of gold for the Prince's\ndrinking!\"\n\nNow and again, when he was well paid for his pots, he would get a bit of\ngold and put it by. This small hoard was precious to him as sunlight,\nand bit by bit, little coin by little coin, it grew, till one day he had\nenough. Then he left his clay, and with care and loving pains, his lathe\nturning to the beat of his heart, he fashioned a little cup of gold.\n\n\"It is small,\" he said, \"but it will hold wine for a single draught.\"\nAnd he set it in the sun among his pots, where it could be seen of the\npassers-by.\n\nPresently rode by the Prince and his court, and saw the pots, and on one\nthe sun shining.\n\n\"Look!\" said one of the courtiers, \"if the potter have not gilded one of\nhis clay pipkins!\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE NEIGHBOUR\n\n\n\"What can you tell me of your neighbour?\" asked the\nAngel-who-looks-into-things.\n\n\"Oh, an excellent person!\" said the Busy Man. \"Full of wisdom and\nvirtue; merry, too, withal; in short, a delightful companion.\"\n\n\"You have been much together, then?\" said the\nAngel-who-looks-into-things.\n\n\"Well, scarcely that,\" replied the Busy Man; \"in fact, I have been so\nexcessively busy that I have seen nothing of him for a long time. But\nnow I have every intention of doing so; indeed, I think I will ask him\nto dine with me to-night.\"\n\n\"You can hardly do that!\" said the Angel.\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"Because he died this morning.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE WOUND\n\n\nOnce an Angel found a child crying bitterly, and stopped to comfort him.\n\n\"What is the matter, dear?\" asked the Angel.\n\n\"Oh, I have hurt myself dreadfully!\" said the child. \"Dreadfully! see!\"\nand he showed his wound.\n\n\"Yes, that must have hurt very much, I know,\" said the Angel; \"but cheer\nup! I knew another child who was wounded in the same place, and he got\nover it in good time.\"\n\n\"Ah! but it was not so bad a wound as mine!\" said the child.\n\n\"Yes, it was,\" said the Angel; \"every bit as bad.\"\n\n\"But it did not hurt him so much!\" said the child.\n\n\"How do you know that?\" asked the Angel.\n\n\"Because he wasn't me!\" said the child.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WHITE FIRE\n\n\nI\n\nThree men came to Love the Lord, asking a gift of his white fire, and\nthe gift was not denied. \"Take it, keep it, use it!\" said Love the Lord;\nand they answered joyfully, \"Yea, Lord, this will we do!\"\n\nThen the three fared forth on their way, the old way, and the new way,\nand the only way; yet they went not together, but each by himself alone.\n\nPresently one came to a dark valley, full of men who groped with their\nhands, seeking the way, and finding it not, for they had no light; and\nthey moaned, and cried, \"Oh! that we had light, to show us the way!\"\n\nThen that man answered aloud, \"Yea, and there shall be light!\"\n\nAnd he took the fire that was given him of Love the Lord, and made of it\na torch, and held it aloft, and it flashed through the darkness like a\nsword, and showed the way; and he leading, they following, they came\nsafe through that place into the light of day.\n\nThe second man went by another path of the way, and it led him over a\nbleak moor, where the wind blew bitter keen, and the rocks stood like\nfrozen iron; and here were men shivering with cold, huddling together\nfor warmth, yet finding none, for they had no fire. And they moaned, and\ncried, \"Ah! if we had but fire to keep the life in us, for we perish!\"\n\nAnd the man said, \"Yea, there shall be fire!\"\n\nAnd he took the fire that he had of Love the Lord, and spread it out,\nand set faggots to it, and it blazed up broad and bright; and the folk\ngathered round it, and held out their hands and warmed themselves at it,\nand forgot the bitter wind.\n\nNow the third man went his way also; and as he went he said to himself,\n\"How shall I keep my fire safe, that no fierce wind blow it out, and no\nfoul vapor stifle it? I know what I will do; I will hide it in my heart,\nand so no harm can come to it.\" And he hid the fire in his heart, and\ncarried it so, and went on.\n\nNow by and by those three came to the end of the way, and there waited\nfor them one in white, and his face veiled. He said to the first man,\n\"What of your fire?\"\n\nAnd the man said, \"I found folk struggling in darkness, and I made a\ntorch of my fire, and showed them the way; now is it well-nigh wasted,\nyet still it burns.\"\n\nAnd he in white said, \"It is well; this fire shall never die.\"\n\nThen came the second, and of him, too, that one asked, \"What of your\nfire?\"\n\nAnd he said, \"I found men shivering, with nought to warm them, and I\ngave my fire, that they might live, and not die.\"\n\nAnd he in white answered again, \"It is well; this fire too shall never\ndie.\"\n\nThen came the third, and answered boldly, and said, \"I have brought my\nfire safe, through peril and through strife; lo, see it here in my\nheart!\"\n\nThen that one in white put aside his veil; and it was Love the Lord\nhimself. \"Alas!\" he said; \"what is this you have done?\"\n\nAnd he opened the man's heart; and inside it was a black char, and white\nashes lying in it.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WHITE FIRE\n\n\nII\n\nThis one Love the Lord called to him, and waited no asking, but put the\ngift in her hands, the white gift of fire.\n\n\"What shall I do with it, Lord?\" she asked: and he said, \"Lighten the\ndarkness!\"\n\n\"Yea, Lord,\" she answered, \"as I may!\" and took the gift meekly and\nwent. But as she went, she met one strong and silent, who took her in\nhis arms, and bore her to a high tower, and kept her there in ward. The\nname of that strong one was Pain, and he was faithful as Night and\nDeath, and they two dwelt together.\n\nBut she in the tower tended ever the white fire, and wept over it,\nsaying, \"How, in this tower, shall I do the will of Love the Lord,\nseeing here are only my fellow Pain and I? and the tower is full of\nseams and cracks, so that the wind blows cold upon my fire, and would\nfain quench it; and in no case can I lighten any darkness save my own.\"\n\nBut still she tended the fire and kept it alive; pure and white was the\nflame of it, and she and her fellow Pain sat beside it and kept them\nwarm.\n\nBut Love the Lord looked from the clearness where he dwelt, and smiled;\nwell pleased was he. For he saw through the seams and rents in that\ndoleful tower the light stream clear and radiant: and in the darkness\ntoward which his high heart yearned he saw men struggling forward, and\nheard them cry to one another joyfully, \"Look up! take heart! yonder\nshines a light to guide us on the way.\"\n\n\n\n\nFOR YOU AND ME\n\n\n\"I have come to speak to you about your work,\" said the\nAngel-who-attends-to-things. \"It appears to be unsatisfactory.\"\n\n\"Indeed!\" said the man. \"I hardly see how that can be. Perhaps you will\nexplain.\"\n\n\"I will!\" said the Angel. \"To begin with, the work is slovenly.\"\n\n\"I was born heedless,\" said the man. \"It is a family failing which I\nhave always regretted.\"\n\n\"It is ill put together, too;\" said the Angel. \"The parts do not fit.\"\n\n\"I never had any eye for proportion,\" said the man; \"I admit it is\nunfortunate.\"\n\n\"The whole thing is a botch,\" said the Angel. \"You have put neither\nbrains nor heart into it, and the result is ridiculous failure. What do\nyou propose to do about it?\"\n\n\"I credited you with more comprehension,\" said the man. \"My faults, such\nas they are, were born with me. I am sorry that you do not approve of\nme, but this is the way I was made; do you see?\"\n\n\"I see!\" said the Angel. He put out a strong white hand, and taking the\nman by the collar, tumbled him neck and crop into the ditch.\n\n\"What is the meaning of this?\" cried the man, as he scrambled out\nbreathless and dripping. \"I never saw such behavior. Do you see what you\nhave done? you have ruined my clothes, and nearly drowned me beside.\"\n\n\"Oh yes!\" said the Angel: \"this is the way _I_ was made.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE PICTURE BOOK\n\n\n\"Brother,\" said the little boy, \"show me a pretty picture book!\"\n\n\"Nay!\" said the brother. \"I would rather show you this book with the\nugly pictures, so that when you come to see ugly things you may know\nwhat they are. Look! see this, how hateful it is; and this, how hideous;\nand here again, this, enough to turn one cold with horror.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" said the child; and he shuddered. \"They are horrible indeed; show\nme more!\"\n\nNext day the brother found the child before a mirror, twisting his face\nthis way and that, squinting, and making a thousand horrible grimaces.\n\n\"My dear little boy,\" cried the brother, \"why are you making yourself so\nhideous?\"\n\n\"I want to see if I can look like the pictures in the book!\" said the\nchild.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FLOWER OF JOY\n\n\nThe white frost struck my garden, and blighted my flower of joy. Oh! it\nwas fair, and all the sweetness of the spring breathed from its cup; but\nnow it lay blackened and withered, and my heart with it.\n\nThen, as I stood mourning, I heard another crying voice; and looking up\nI saw my neighbour in her garden, bending over her stricken plants and\nweeping sore. I hastened to her. \"Take courage!\" I said. \"It may be they\nare not quite dead: for, look! here lingers a little green along the\nleaves. Look here again, the sap flows. Take heart, and we will work\ntogether, you and I.\"\n\nSo I labored, and she with me, binding up, tending and watering, night\nand day; till at last life came back to her plants, first faltering,\nthen flowing free, and they held up their heads and drank the sunshine,\nand opened fair and sweet to the day.\n\nThen, with her blessing warm at my heart, I turned me homeward: and oh!\nand oh! in the ruined garden where all lay black and prone, a thread of\ngreen creeping, a tiny bud peeping, a breath of spring upon the air.\nGlad woman, I fell upon my knees, and stretched out trembling hands to\nwhere, faint and feeble, yet alive, bloomed once more my flower of joy.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BURNING HOUSE\n\n\nSome neighbours were walking together in the cool of the day, watching\nthe fall of the twilight, and talking of this and that; and as they\nwalked, they saw at a little distance a light, as it were a house on\nfire.\n\n\"From the direction, that must be our neighbour William's house,\" said\none. \"Ought we not to warn him of the danger?\"\n\n\"I see only a little flame,\" said another; \"perchance it may go out of\nitself, and no harm done.\"\n\n\"I should be loth to carry ill news,\" said a third; \"it is always a\npainful thing to do.\"\n\n\"William is not a man who welcomes interference,\" said a fourth. \"I\nshould not like to be the one to intrude upon his privacy; probably he\nknows about the fire, and is managing it in his own way.\"\n\nWhile they were talking, the house burned up.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PLANT\n\n\nA plant grew up in the spring, and spread its leaves and looked abroad,\nrejoicing in its life.\n\n\"To grow!\" said the plant. \"To be beautiful, and gladden the eyes of\nthose who look on me: this is life. The Giver of it be praised!\"\n\nNow the plant budded and blossomed: lovely the blossoms were, and sweet,\nand men plucked them joyfully.\n\n\"This is well!\" said the plant. \"To send beauty and fragrance hither and\nthither, to sweeten the world even a little, this is life: the Giver of\nit be praised!\"\n\nAutumn came, and the plant stood lonely, yet at peace. \"One cannot\nalways be in blossom!\" it said. \"One has done what one could, and a\nlittle is part of the whole.\"\n\nBy and by came a gatherer of herbs, and cut the green leaves from the\nplant. \"They are good for bruises,\" he said; \"or distilled, their juice\nmay heal an inward wound.\"\n\nThe plant heard and rejoiced. \"To heal!\" it said. \"That is even better\nthan to gladden the eyes. The Giver of this too be praised!\"\n\nNow it was winter. The dry stalk stood in the field, and crackled with\nthe frost, its few remaining leaves clinging black and shrivelled about\nit.\n\n\"All is over now,\" said the plant. \"There must be an end to everything.\"\n\nBut now came a poor soul shivering with the cold, and took the dry plant\nand carried it to his home; and breaking it in pieces, laid the\nfragments on his naked hearth and set fire to them. Puff! the dry stalks\ncrackled into flame and blazed up merrily, filling the room with light\nand warmth.\n\n\"And is this death?\" said the plant. \"The Giver of all be praised!\"","title":"The Silver Crown: Another Book of Fables","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":13447}