{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_22184/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_22184","id":"gutenberg_22184","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/22184","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Children's stories","Fairy tales","Nursery rhymes -- Adaptations"],"text":"Produced by Al Haines\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[Frontispiece: Jack and Jill in the Witch's House.]\n\n\n\n\n\n\nMORE TALES\n\nIN THE LAND OF\n\nNURSERY RHYME\n\n\nBY\n\nADA M. MARZIALS\n\n\n\nAUTHOR OF\n\n\"IN THE LAND OF NURSERY RHYME\"\n\n\n\nWITH FRONTISPIECE\n\n\n\n\nLONDON: H. R. ALLENSON, LIMITED\n\nRACQUET COURT, FLEET STREET, E.C.\n\n1913\n\n\n\n\nTO\n\nMY LITTLE COUSINS\n\nKATHLEEN AND DOROTHY\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n  THE NORTH WIND DOTH BLOW\n  MARY, MARY, QUITE CONTRARY\n  JACK AND JILL\n  LITTLE MISS MUFFET\n  PUSSY CAT, PUSSY CAT\n  HEY, DIDDLE, DIDDLE!\n\n\n\n\nTHE NORTH WIND DOTH BLOW\n\n\"_Different people have different opinions_\"\n\n  The North Wind doth blow,\n  And we shall have snow,\n  And what will the robin do then?  Poor thing!\n  He will sit in a barn,\n  And to keep himself warm\n  He will hide his head under his wing.  Poor thing!\n\n\nOh, how cold it was!\n\nThe North Wind howled round the barn, whirling the snowflakes into a\nlittle heap inside the half-open door.  Even beyond the little heap of\nsnow, right inside the barn among the whisps of hay and straw, and beyond\nthe pile of turnips piled up in one far corner, it was still bitterly\ncold and draughty.\n\nThe few birds left had found their way into the old barn for shelter, and\nwere close together on a low bar of wood at the far end, where they sat\nruffling their feathers and shivering.\n\nFrom time to time one of them would peer out at the leaden grey sky and\nthe falling snowflakes, and then hide its head under its wing again to\ndeaden the sound of the wind whistling through the crannies.\n\nThere were five of them.\n\nA Robin, who had been blown in with the last gust of wind; a wretched\nlittle Sparrow, who twittered helplessly from time to time, and then hid\nher head ashamed at having been betrayed into such an exhibition of\nweakness in public; an Owl, who, living habitually in the barn, regarded\nthe others with suspicion as intruders, and possibly thieves; and,\nlastly, two queer Japanese birds, who had lived all the summer on the\nornamental lake in the garden.\n\nThese latter had been brought to the barn during the bad weather, as they\nwere considered too delicate to bear the stress of a really cold English\nwinter, and were looked down on and despised by the other birds as\nforeigners.  They were very shy, and crouched side by side in one corner,\nnever venturing a remark unless first spoken to.  The Robin, though he\nwas the latest comer, had, by reason of his cheery good-nature, and a\ncertain perky self-confidence, already gained for himself a position as\nleader among the other birds.  Even the old Owl blinked and winked\noccasionally at his jokes, and the Sparrow was soon reduced to a helpless\nstate of twittering giggles.  But laughing will not keep you warm, and at\nlast even the Robin was forced to confess that he had never been colder\nin his life; and what was the use of thinking of all the plum-puddings\nand mince pies and bread crumbs and holly-berries in the world, when you\nwere feeling as though you had not a feather on your body to bless\nyourself with!\n\n\"I wish I could make the snow stop somehow,\" he said.  \"It is all very\nwell for Mother Goose to go on plucking out feathers up there, but she\ndoes not help to make _us_ any warmer.\"\n\n\"Pooh!\" said the Owl, who had lately condescended to join in the\nconversation.  \"Who told you all that rubbish about Mother Goose?  Why,\nthe snow has no more to do with Mother Goose than I have! . . .  Mother\nGoose, indeed!\" and she blinked twice, just to show that she could tell\nmore if she chose.\n\n\"Bird of Wisdom,\" piped the Robin, with a wink at the Sparrow, which set\nher off giggling worse than ever, \"enlighten us, I pray you, as to the\ntrue cause of snow?\"\n\n\"Yes, do,\" said the Sparrow, when she had recovered her breath.  The\nJapanese birds said nothing, but stirred uneasily.\n\n\"Snow,\" began the Owl, sententiously, \"is connected with rain and\nfrost----\"\n\n\"Pip!  Pip!\" rudely interrupted the Robin.  \"If you are going to talk\nscience, madam, I must beg to be excused,\" and he promptly hid his head\nunder his wing, and the Sparrow followed suit.\n\nThe Owl paid no heed to this interruption, but lectured on, and having\ntalked for about ten minutes or so with no applause, withdrew to a\nfurther corner of the barn and fell asleep.\n\nWhen she had gone, the Japanese birds began murmuring softly to each\nother.  The Robin brought his head from under his wing with a start.\n\n\"What's that you said?\" he inquired.\n\n\"In our country,\" began the elder Japanese bird, with a slightly foreign\naccent, but in otherwise perfect English, \"we look on snowflakes as the\nwhirling mantles of the dancing moon maidens; and when the trees and\nmountain-peaks are seen covered with snow in the morning, we say the moon\nmaidens have left their mantles hanging up or spread out to dry.\"\n\n\"Charming idea, and most romantic,\" piped the Robin.  \"I am not romantic\nmyself, and I must say that the Mother Goose idea strongly appeals to my\npractical nature.  Still, there may be something in what you say.\"\n\n\"An absolutely too sweet notion.  Fancy a foreigner thinking of it,\"\nchirped the Sparrow.\n\n\"Have you ever seen a Moon Maiden?\" continued the Robin, without heeding\nthe Sparrow's rude interruption.\n\n\"No, they are invisible now,\" said the Japanese bird; \"but my\ngreat-grandfather told my father a story about one of them once.  We\nalways tell it to each other in snow time.  It keeps us warm and makes us\nthink of home.\"\n\nThe other Japanese bird piped a few sad notes, which, as the Robin said,\n\"stirred his nature to the very depths!\"\n\n\"Would it be asking too much for you to tell us the story too?\" he said.\n\"I hope it is something cheerful, though; the roast beef and plum-pudding\ntype of story is what appeals to me.\"\n\n\"Hoots!\" said the Owl, waking from her little nap.  \"_I_ like melodrama.\nI hope there is a villain in it, and a churchyard or two.\"\n\n\"And _I_ hope there is a strong domestic interest,\" said the Sparrow,\nwith a feeble giggle.\n\n\"Anyway, please tell us,\" said the Robin.  \"I am absolutely freezing and\nmust have something to distract my thoughts--ri tol de rol!\"\n\nThe elder Japanese bird rustled his feathers softly for a minute or two,\nand then, with his eyes fixed on the grey sky and driving snow, and\ninterrupted from time to time by the howling of the wind, he began:\n\n\nYou must know that our country, like this, is surrounded by the blue sea;\nand that the sandy shores are fringed with pine trees, and that behind\nthe pine trees rise the hills and mountains.  Yea, and behind all these\nlies the one most beautiful mountain in the world, our Fuji, to look on\nwhom is the greatest privilege that can be given to bird or man.\n\nYou must know, also, that across the blue sea, for those who can find it,\nis the direct path to the country of the moon.  There dwell the moon\nmaidens, creatures so lovely that it is beyond me to describe them.  They\nare dressed in white glistening mantles, and spend their lives dancing\nand singing to the stars.  On great occasions, such as birthdays, they\nare allowed to visit our country, some even to gaze on the all-glorious\nFuji.  But though they swim across the sea, and often spread out their\nmantles to dry when they reach the hills, yet must they always be sure to\nput their mantles on again before they leave our shores, or they will\nfade and vanish into nothingness, and never again reach the moon where is\ntheir home.\n\nThere was once a Moon Maiden who was fairer to look upon than all the\nothers, and danced more divinely than any of them.  Her name was Tsuki,\nthe Daughter of the Moon.  To her, too, was it granted on her birthday to\nvisit our country, and to gaze on the all-glorious Fuji.\n\nWrapping her feather mantle round her, she swam down the path which leads\nfrom the moon across the blue sea to our shores.\n\nWhen she arrived on the sands among the pine trees, she searched about\nfor some spot where she might hang her feather mantle to dry, while she\nclimbed a neighbouring hill to gaze on the all-glorious Fuji.  She saw\none pine tree taller than the others, with a flat surface of branches at\nthe top, and taking her glistening, dripping mantle with her, she flew to\nthe topmost branch.  There she spread out her mantle and left it to dry.\n\nShe then fled away to the neighbouring peak, which, climbing, she beheld\nFuji, bathed in moonlight, and realised that even in her own moon-land\nshe had never seen anything so beautiful.\n\nWhile she was gazing in wonder at our pearl of mountains, a poor\nfisherman who lived in a cottage close to the sea came out to tend his\nnets.\n\nHis name was Yama, and he lived alone.  My great-grandfather's nest was\nclose to his cottage, and Yama loved my great-grandfather and often spoke\nto him of his dreams.\n\nOn this night when Tsuki came to earth, Yama, tempted by the glory of the\nsea and stars, did not go into his cottage again, but wandered aimlessly\nalong the shore thinking of his lonely life, and dreaming of the moon.\n\nUnconsciously he raised his eyes to the tops of the pine trees that\nfringed the sandy shore, and his attention was caught by something white\nand glistening on the top of one of them.\n\n\"Is that some dead white bird lying yonder?\" he thought.  \"'Tis too late,\nsurely, for snow.\"\n\nHe walked to the foot of the tree and climbed it branch by branch.  When\nhe reached the top, he saw that what he had taken to be a bird, was\nindeed a mass of finest feathers, but shaped like a woman's cloak.\n\nHe took it in his arms--it was as light as driven snow--and climbed down\nthe tree on to the seashore.\n\n\"How beautiful!\" he said.  \"I will hang it up in my cottage; surely it is\nsome fairy thing, and will bring me good luck and a fulfilment of my\ndreams.\"  He was about to walk away with the mantle in his arms, when he\nheard a cry behind him.\n\nHe turned, and saw a beautiful maiden wringing her hands and crying\nbitterly.  She was pale and slim, and her light golden hair flowed to her\nfeet, but she had no mantle, and she trembled exceedingly.\n\nIt was Tsuki, the Moon Maiden.\n\nShe, knowing that the night was far spent, had said farewell to Fuji,\ndescended the mountain, and come back to fetch her mantle that she might\nreturn homewards.  But when she had reached the pine tree, she had seen\nthat her mantle had disappeared.  With tears in her eyes she had run to\nthe shore to gaze sadly on the path which led across the sea to her\nhome--the path that without her mantle she could not tread.  Then she had\nseen Yama, and not knowing who or what he was, had run to him for help.\nWhen he turned at her cry, she saw that he had her mantle in his arms.\nThey stood gazing at each other in silence for a few minutes.  Then:\n\n\"Give me back my mantle,\" she said in a trembling voice.\n\nAt first Yama could answer nothing; but he held the mantle closer, and\nthen said at last:\n\n\"Oh, most beautiful maiden, let me keep your mantle in token that you\nwill stay here always.  Willingly would I serve you all the days of my\nlife, and yonder is my little cottage where we could live and be happy\nfor ever.\"\n\nBut she shook her head.\n\n\"I am Tsuki, the Moon Maiden,\" she said.  \"If I were to enter a human\ndwelling I should die.  By daylight, even, I cannot live in your country.\nGive me back my mantle that I may return to my home in the moon.  The\nminutes are passing.  When the moon wanes, if I have not my mantle, I\nshall die and disappear utterly.  Then shall I never see my home again,\nnor the moon maidens my sisters, nor shall I ever dance nor sing again to\nthe stars.  Oh, for mercy's sake, I pray you give me back my mantle!\"\n\nBut Yama answered nothing and held the mantle closer.  Then Tsuki began\nto think what she could do or give him in exchange for what she held so\ndear.\n\n\"See!\" she cried suddenly.  \"If it is a mantle you want, if you will give\nmine back to me now, then when the winter comes I will return with my\nsisters, and we will leave a bundle of our old cloaks on the hill-tops\nfor you to find and carry home with you.  Indeed, I promise truly that\nyou shall have many of our cloaks in the winter time.\"\n\nBut Yama still answered nothing, and held the mantle closer.\n\nThen Tsuki cried again: \"The moon is waning fast, oh give me back my\nmantle, and before I go I will dance for you as I would dance for the\nMorning Star.\"\n\nWhen Yama saw how earnestly she besought him, and that no entreaties of\nhis could persuade her to stay with him, he cast down the cloak before\nher.\n\n\"Take it,\" he said, \"but keep your promise, and dance for me as you would\ndance for the Morning Star.\"\n\nSo Tsuki flung the soft, white, glistening, mantle round her, and on the\nsandy shore beneath the pine trees, by the light of the waning moon, she\nbegan to dance.\n\nSo light was she that she looked like a blown feather of foam as she\nskimmed and flitted and swayed on the glistening sand, with her pale gold\nhair glimmering, and her white feet twinkling in the dim light.  Once or\ntwice she fell to the ground in a crumpled heap as if exhausted, but each\ntime, as though a puff of wind had caught her up, she rose again\nfluttering and swiftly turning through the air.  The dawn birds twittered\nand piped soft music for her, and the sea murmured a humming, rushing\nmelody, and still she danced on.  As she danced, there arose in the sky\nabove--slow, bright and clear--the Morning Star.  Yama saw her twinkling\nfeet pass him as she drew nearer and nearer to the sea; and as the first\npink light began to show behind the pine trees she reached the surf.\nFlinging her arms high above her head, she plunged in, with her snowy\nmantle billowing round her.  Long, long Yama gazed after her, but she had\ndisappeared utterly.\n\nSlowly he turned from the sea.  Slowly, very slowly he walked along the\nshore towards his cottage.  Surely he must have been dreaming!  But lo!\nclose upon the shore were lying little white flakes that must have been\nshed from her snowy mantle as she swirled through the air.\n\nYama stooped to pick them up, but even as he touched them they changed to\ntear-drops in his hands.\n\nAs I have said before, my great-grandfather's nest was close to Yama's\ncottage, and in the winter evenings Yama would tell my great-grandfather\nover and over again how Tsuki, the Moon Maiden, had once danced for him.\n\nHe never saw her again; but she kept her promise, and every year, on a\nwinter night, she came with her sisters and left a pile of cloaks on the\ntop of Fuji.  Every year Yama climbed Fuji to fetch them, but, alas, they\nalways turned to tear-drops at his touch.\n\nSometimes, too, pieces of her mantle fell to the ground when she was\ndancing with her sisters to the Morning Star, but they hardly ever fell\non the seashore where Yama lived.\n\nYama never forgot her.  Years, long years afterwards, when he was an old,\nold man he started to climb Fuji as usual.  Another bird told my father,\nhowever, that that year he never reached the top; but that Tsuki, touched\nwith his devotion to her, had come with her maidens one night as he slept\non the mountain side, and, wrapping him in their feathery mantles, had\ncarried him, smiling in his sleep, to their home in the moon.\n\n      *      *      *      *      *      *\n\n\"That's the story,\" concluded the Japanese bird in his sad foreign voice,\n\"and that is why we always think of Tsuki, the Moon Maiden, in snow-time.\"\n\n\"Hoots!\" said the Owl grumpily.  \"It's melancholy enough, but I should\nhave preferred more blood and thunder.\"\n\n\"Anyway, it has passed the time,\" said the Robin cheerily.  \"It has left\noff snowing.  I'm off to the house for crumbs.  Many thanks for your\nstory.  I'll tell _you_ one one of these days that will simply make you\n_die_ of laughing.\"\n\nSo the Robin flew off, followed by the twittering Sparrow.  The Owl\nsettled herself to sleep again, and the Japanese birds were left\nshivering in the corner to think of their own country.\n\n\n\n\nMARY, MARY, QUITE CONTRARY\n\n\"_Such as the gardener is--so is the garden_\"\n\n  Mary, Mary, quite contrary,\n  How does your garden grow?\n  With cockle shells,\n  And silver bells,\n  And pretty maids all in a row.\n\n\nThere was once upon a time a King who ruled over a vast kingdom.  In\nthe kingdom were all sorts of houses, large and small, and the King\nhimself lived in a huge palace the like of which had never been seen\nfor grandeur.  Yet, throughout the length and breadth of his kingdom\nthere was not one single garden.  Even the palace itself only possessed\na back-yard.\n\nThis grieved the King very sorely.  He sent proclamations over land and\nsky and sea to men from other countries to come and make him a garden.\nHe offered vast rewards.  But, though gardeners had come from far and\nnear, though the King himself had watched them from the palace steps,\nand had, once even, cut the first sod with a silver spade . . . yet, it\nwas all no use.  The garden _wouldn't_ be made and the flowers\n_wouldn't_ grow.  Every kind of patent soil, seeds, hose,\nwatering-cans, weed-killers and mowing machines had been tried in vain.\nThere were stacks of them lying in the palace yard, but never a single\nflower, never even the beginnings of a garden.\n\nOne day the King, quite weary of looking through catalogues and\ninterviewing possible gardeners, had fallen asleep in the little shed\nin the back-yard which was known as \"The Arbour.\"  As he slept he had a\ndream.\n\nHe dreamt that a little wizened old man came to him and said,\n\"Catalogues and gardeners will not help you.  You will never have a\ngarden until you get the Princess Mary Radiant to come and shine on\nyour back-yard.  Only two men in all your kingdom can help you--Sir\nHunny Bee and Sir Richard Byrde--but even these will be no use without\nthe smile of the Princess Mary Radiant, and for her you must search\nover earth and sky and sea.\"\n\nThe King awoke from his sleep with a start.\n\n\"What ho! without there!\" he cried.  \"Fetch me the Princess Mary\nRadiant!\"\n\nThe assembled courtiers shook their heads.\n\n\"We have never heard of a lady with that name,\" they said.  \"Your\nMajesty must have been dreaming.\"\n\n\"Dream or no dream,\" said the King testily, \"some one must fetch me the\nPrincess Mary Radiant, for if she once smiles on my back-yard it will\nbe turned into a garden with real grass and real flowers--Canterbury\nbells and sunflowers--that's what I have set my heart on!\"\n\nThe courtiers answered nothing and shook their heads once more.\n\n\"We don't know such a lady,\" they repeated.\n\n\"Fetch Sir Hunny Bee, perhaps he can find the Princess for us,\" ordered\nthe King.\n\nThe courtiers all ran off to find Sir Hunny Bee.  In a few minutes that\ngallant knight appeared, all dusty from the recent ride from his\ncastle, and splendid in his knightly garb of black and orange.\n\n\"What is your will, your Majesty?\" said he, bowing low before the King.\n\n\"Search over all lands and bring me hither the Princess Mary Radiant,\"\nsaid the King, \"for if she should smile on my back-yard it will be\nturned into a garden.\"\n\nNow no knight ever dreams of disobeying his Majesty's commands, however\nimpossible they may sound, so Sir Hunny Bee merely bowed low before the\nKing and said, \"I go,\"--and went.\n\n\"Real Canterbury bells and sunflowers,\" murmured the King, listening to\nthe jingle of the silver bells on the knight's bridle as he rode away.\n\nSir Hunny Bee had not gone many leagues from the palace when he began\nto realise that he might ride and ride, and never find the Princess\nMary Radiant.\n\n\"I wish I knew the way!\" he cried.\n\nAs he said these words, a little wizened old man sprang out on the road\nin front of him, and so frightened his horse, that the silver bells\njingled more than ever.\n\n\"Ride over hill and dale for seven times seven leagues,\" said the old\nman, \"till you come to a gate-post on which is hung a sign-board.\nFollow the directions on the sign-board and all will be well.\"\n\nBefore the Knight could say \"thank you,\" the little old man had\ndisappeared.\n\nSo Sir Hunny Bee rode on over hill and dale for seven times seven\nleagues, and there, just as the old man had said, was a gate-post, and\non the gate-post a sign-board.\n\nSir Hunny Bee dismounted from his horse and led it by the silver-belled\nbridle up to the gate-post, that he might read the directions that were\nwritten in red letters upon the sign-board.\n\n\n  \"THE GARDEN OF THE PRINCESS MARY RADIANT\"\n\n  No man shall be admitted here,\n  Till he a fine doth pay.\n  And he who will not pay the fine\n  From hence must ride away.\n\n  By him that rides here over land,\n  A silver bell is paid.\n  He that flies hither through the air,\n  Must bring a dark-faced maid.\n  While he that through the sea doth swim,\n  Must bring a cockle-shell with him.\n          By order, M. R.\n\n\n  \"'By him that rides here over land,\n  A silver bell is paid,'\"\n\nrepeated Sir Hunny Bee.  \"But the question is, to whom do I pay it?\"\n\nOnce more, like a jack-in-the-box, the little wizened old man appeared\nin front of the Knight.\n\n\"To me,\" he said, \"and I will take you in.  But though you may see all\nover the garden, I doubt it you will be allowed to see the Princess.\nShe has a very uncertain disposition, and sometimes will not appear for\ndays together.\"\n\nSo Sir Hunny Bee cut off one of the silver bells from his bridle and\ngave it to the old man, who put it carefully in his hat, and then led\nthe Knight and his horse into the garden.\n\nWhat a garden it was!\n\nPaths of grass, green as emeralds and sparkling with dew like diamonds,\nbordered on each side with shells that shone like mother-o'-pearl.\nFlowers, flowers everywhere, of every hue and shade.  Canterbury bells\nand sunflowers indeed!  What should you say to bells of real silver,\nglowing and shining?  To fair maids blossoming and curtseying in the\nflower-beds, fair maids so beautiful that the Knight would fain have\nstopped with them all day?  To roses flowering everywhere?  To lillies\ntrickling oozy scent into gold bowls laid ready to receive it?  To\nwhole bowers of honeysuckle, and whole beds of lavender?  To hedges of\nevery flowering shrub imaginable?  To lofty trees whose leaves\nwhispered soft invitations to the passers-by to come and sleep beneath\ntheir soothing shade?  To fountains plashing and showing a thousand\ndifferent colours?  To fruit of gold and silver hanging from the\nbranches of the fruit trees, and to birds of every plumage singing the\nsweetest songs imaginable?\n\nTruly there never was such a garden!\n\n\"There must be a great many gardeners here!\" gasped Sir Hunny Bee.\n\n\"Oh, no,\" answered the old man.  \"The Princess does it all herself,\nwith the help of some Bees (cousins of yours by the way), a few of the\nByrdes, and the nymphs Wynde and Worta.  Everything looks so beautiful\nnow, because the Princess is in the garden.  If we wait in this arbour\nhere, she will pass behind it on her way to the palace.  But do not go\nout until she calls you.  For no man is allowed to see her face until\nshe gives him permission.  When she speaks to you, tell her your\nbusiness speedily.\"\n\nThey waited in the arbour; the little old man still held Sir Hunny\nBee's silver bell in his hat.  Presently soft footsteps were heard\napproaching, and a gentle voice said:\n\n\"Not to-day,\"--and the footsteps passed on behind the arbour.\n\nThen the colour faded from the grass and flowers and shells.  The\nfountains ceased to play, and the birds to sing; and Sir Hunny Bee was\nalmost ready to cry with vexation.\n\n\"She is gone,\" he said, \"and I have come so far to seek her.\"\n\n\"You must wait till to-morrow now,\" said the old man.\n\nSo Sir Hunny Bee waited till to-morrow, and exactly the same thing\nhappened.  The grass shone, and the flowers glowed.  The fair maids\nturned and curtseyed on their stems.  The fountains splashed, and the\nbirds sang.  The Princess passed behind the arbour and once more said\nin her gentle voice, \"Not to-day,\" and then all grew dull and dim and\nsilent, and Sir Hunny Bee more impatient.\n\nHe remained there for seven days--and on the seventh, without waiting\nfor the old man to give him leave, as the Princess approached he called\nout:\n\n\"Seven times seven leagues over hill and dale have I ridden, most\ngracious Princess--and I have waited here for you for seven days.  Oh,\ngrant me permission to tell you of my quest.\"\n\nThen the gentle voice said:\n\n\"Have you paid your fine, oh, bold stranger?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Sir Hunny Bee.\n\n\"Throw it from the arbour that I may see it,\" said the Princess.\n\nSo the old man took the silver bell from his hat and flung it out on to\na flower-bed near.\n\nImmediately it began to grow and blossom till it was many feet high.\n\n\"The Princess smiles on it,\" said the old man, \"tell her your mission\nspeedily.\"\n\n\"Gracious lady,\" said Sir Hunny Bee from within the arbour, \"the King\nof a far kingdom has sent me to beg you to come back with me to his\nkingdom, and smile on his back-yard that it may become a garden,--even\nas when you smiled on my poor bell it grew and blossomed.\"\n\n\"Oh, stranger,\" answered the Princess, \"go home and tell your master\nthat through the air must he send yet another messenger to fetch me,\nere I will come to him.  Come forth now and pluck the flower that\nsprang from your bell, and take it to your master in token that I speak\ntruth.\"\n\nSo Sir Hunny Bee came forth from the arbour to pluck the flower, and\nhis eyes fell on the glory of the Princess Mary Radiant.\n\nShe was dressed all in gold, and her hair was gold, and her glowing\nsmile was more beautiful than words can tell.  Sir Hunny Bee was\ndazzled with the sight of her, and, kneeling, kissed her hand.\n\n\"Pluck your flower and go,\" she said, \"and if your master will send yet\nanother messenger, I will come.\"\n\nSo Sir Hunny Bee plucked the flower, and, mounting his horse, rode away\nthe way he had come.  But when he stopped to look at the flower he had\nplucked, he found it was only quite an ordinary Canterbury bell!\n\nThe King was waiting on the steps of the back-yard when Sir Hunny Bee\napproached.  It looked drearier than ever.  Half a dozen gardeners were\nwatering a muddy-looking stone with patent water, while the King looked\non.  When he saw Sir Hunny Bee he said:\n\n\"Have you brought her?\"\n\n\"No, your Majesty,\" said the Knight, \"but she sent you this flower, in\ntoken that if you will send her another messenger through the air, she\nwill come.  Oh, your Majesty, she is more beautiful than day, and her\ngarden is Paradise itself!\"\n\n\"Don't waste time talking,\" said the King.  \"Send Sir Richard Byrde.\nHe learnt to fly long ago.  He can fetch her through the air.  Have a\ngarden I must and will.  This Canterbury bell shall be planted\nimmediately.\"  So the half-dozen gardeners were straightway sent off to\nplant it.\n\nMeanwhile Sir Richard Byrde had arrived at the palace, having been sent\nfor by an express messenger.  He looked splendid in a knightly garb of\nrusset brown.\n\n\"What is your will, your Majesty?\" said he, bowing low before the King.\n\n\"Fly through the air and fetch me the Princess Mary Radiant,\" said the\nKing.  \"For if she will smile on my back-yard, it will be turned into a\ngarden.\"\n\nSir Richard Byrde bowed low before the King.\n\n\"I go,\" he said . . . and went.\n\nHe had not flown many leagues from the palace when he began to realise\nthat he might fly and fly, and never find the Princess Mary Radiant.\n\n\"I wish I knew the way,\" he cried.\n\nThen to him as to Sir Hunny Bee appeared the little old man.\n\n\"Fly over cloud and through air for seven times seven leagues,\" said\nhe, \"till you come to a large gate-post on which is hung a sign-board.\nFollow the directions on the sign-board, and all will be well.  By the\nway, you had better take this parcel with you, and open it when you\nreach the gate-post,\" and flinging a little parcel on the ground, the\nlittle old man disappeared.  Sir Richard Byrde picked up the parcel,\nwhich was smaller than the smallest seed, and flew on over cloud and\nthrough air for seven times seven leagues.  There, just as the old man\nhad said, was the gate-post and the sign-board.  He, too, read the\ndirections:--\n\n\n  THE GARDEN OF THE PRINCESS MARY RADIANT\n\n  No man shall be admitted here,\n  Till he a fine doth pay.\n  And he that will not pay the fine,\n  From hence must fly away.\n\n  By him that rides here over land,\n  A silver bell is paid.\n  He that flies hither through the air,\n  Must bring a dark-faced maid.\n  While he that through the sea doth swim,\n  Must bring a cockle-shell with him.\n          By order, M. R.\n\n\n  \"'He that flies hither through the air,\n  Must bring a dark-faced maid,'\n\nbut I have not one!\" he cried.  Then he remembered the old man's\nparcel.  He opened it and found inside a little egg-shaped doll with a\nbrown face.  He paid this dark-faced maid to the little old man, who\nhad suddenly appeared from nowhere, and who, putting the maid into his\nhat, led the Knight into the garden.\n\nAs the garden had appeared to Sir Hunny Bee, so did it now appear to\nSir Richard Byrde.  The grass like emeralds, the pearl-lined paths, the\nflashing fountains, the gorgeous fruits, the curtseying maids, the\nsinging birds, and the scented flowers.\n\nAs Sir Hunny Bee had been led to the arbour behind which the Princess\nwas to pass, even so was he.\n\nHe, too, asked if there were not a great many gardeners, and was told\nthat the Princess did it all herself with a few of the Bees, a few\nByrdes (cousins of yours by the way), and the nymphs Wynde and Worta.\n\nHe, too, heard the soft footsteps approaching, and heard the gentle\nvoice say, \"Not to-day\";--and then he, too, saw the colours fade and\nthe fountains cease to play, and the birds to sing as the Princess\npassed on behind the arbour.\n\nHe, too, waited for seven days, and on the seventh, he, too, cried out:\n\n\"Most gracious Princess, for seven times seven leagues have I flown\nover clouds and through air to seek you; and I have waited here for you\nfor seven days; oh, grant me permission to tell my quest,\" and the\ngentle voice said:\n\n\"Have you paid your fine, most bold stranger?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Sir Richard Byrde.\n\n\"Throw it from the arbour that I may see it,\" said the Princess.\n\nSo the old man took the maid from out of his hat and threw it on to a\nbed near, and it grew and grew till it was a fair maid, fairer than all\nthe others, and curtseying deeper than any of them.\n\n\"The Princess smiles on it,\" said the old man, \"tell her your mission\nspeedily.\"\n\n\"Gracious lady,\" said Sir Richard Byrde, \"the King of a far kingdom has\nsent me to beg that you will come back with me and smile on his\nback-yard that it may become a garden--even as when you smiled on my\npoor maid it grew and blossomed.\"\n\n\"Oh, stranger,\" answered the Princess, \"go home and tell your master\nthat I will never come to him, unless he comes over the sea to fetch me\nhimself.  Come forth now and pluck the flower that sprang from your\nseed, and give it to your master in token that I speak truth.\"\n\nSo Sir Richard Byrde came forth from the arbour to pluck the flower,\nand he, too, was dazzled by the golden glory of the Princess.\n\nKneeling, he kissed her hand.\n\n\"Pluck your flower and go,\" she said, \"and if your master will fetch me\nhimself, I will come.\"\n\nSo Sir Richard Byrde plucked the flower and flew away the way he had\ncome.  But when he stopped to look at the flower he had plucked, he\nfound it was only an ordinary sunflower.\n\nThe King was waiting on the steps of the back-yard, watching a dozen\ngardeners trying to rear the Canterbury bell with patent foods.  When\nhe saw Sir Richard Byrde approaching he called out:\n\n\"Have you brought her?\"\n\n\"No, your Majesty,\" said the Knight, \"but she sent you this flower in\ntoken that if you, yourself, will go across the sea to fetch her, she\nwill come--and, oh, your Majesty, she is more beautiful than day, and\nher garden is Paradise itself!\"\n\n\"Don't waste time talking,\" said the King.  \"You know quite well I have\nnever fetched anything myself in my life.  In fact, I have never done\nany thing myself.  That is one of the privileges of being a King.\"\n\n\"Well, but your Majesty will never have a garden without her,\" murmured\nSir Richard Byrde humbly, looking round the back-yard, and thinking of\nthe Princess's lovely garden.\n\nThe back-yard certainly did look very dismal.  A dozen more gardeners\nwere already at work trying to plant the sunflower, but they had put it\nin upside down.  Scraps of old iron, once patent rakes, hoes, or\nwatering-cans, were scattered about.  The smell of the patent soils and\nweed-killers was positively horrible.  The Canterbury bell drooped\nhelplessly in one corner.\n\nThe King sighed.\n\n\"Well, I must have a garden,\" he said.  \"So I will put an end to all\nthis, and go and fetch the Princess myself.  After all, I shall only\nhave to bring her here--and then what a difference there will be!\"\n\nSo without wasting another minute the King himself climbed the castle\nwall, and plunged headlong into the sea.\n\nHe had swum a dozen yards or so when it suddenly occurred to him that\nhe might swim and swim, and never find the Princess Mary Radiant.\n\n\"I wish I knew the way,\" he cried, catching hold of a cockle-shell that\nwas lying on one of the upstanding rocks.\n\nThen to him, as to the two Knights, appeared the old man.  \"Swim over\nrocks and through water for seven times seven leagues,\" said he, \"till\nyou come to a large gate-post on which is hung a sign-board.  Follow\nthe directions on the sign-board and all will be well.\"  Then the King\nswam on over rocks and through water, for seven times seven leagues;\nand there, just as the old man had said, was the sign-board.  He, too,\nread the directions:--\n\n\n  THE GARDEN OF THE PRINCESS MARY RADIANT\n\n  No man shall be admitted here,\n  Till he a fine doth pay.\n  And he that will not pay the fine,\n  From hence must swim away.\n\n  By him that rides here over land,\n  A silver bell is paid.\n  He that flies hither through the air,\n  Must bring a dark-faced maid.\n  While he that through the sea doth swim,\n  Must bring a cockle-shell with him.\n          By order, M. R.\n\n\n  \"'He that through the sea doth swim,\n  Must bring a cockle-shell with him.'\n\nWell, here it is,\" said the King.  \"So I will just walk in.\"\n\nThis time the old man did not appear, and the King walked straight into\nthe garden, holding the shell in his hand.\n\n\"Ah-h-h, this is the garden I should like to have, perhaps the Princess\ncould have it transplanted to my palace,\" said the King.  \"What a\nnumber of gardeners they must employ here!\"\n\n\"No, only myself,\" said a soft voice behind him, \"a few Bees, a few\nByrdes and the nymphs Wynde and Worta.\"\n\nThe King turned, but could see no one, though he thought he caught a\nglimpse of a gold skirt among the bushes.\n\nHe threw down the shell by the path, and running forward, cried--\"Oh\nPrincess, come with me to my back-yard, and make it into a lovely\ngarden such as this.\"\n\nThen, for one moment through the arching branches of the trees, there\nappeared before him a maiden so beautiful that he was almost blinded\nwith the sight of her.  She was all gold and shining, like the pictures\nof Queen Elizabeth.  She was smiling, too, but oh, so sadly!\n\n\"I will come,\" she said, \"but you, yourself, must prepare the place for\nthe garden.  When it is ready I will smile on it and you.  Till then,\nthough I will come back with you and tell you what to do, you will\nnever see my face.\"\n\nAs she spoke, a veil of mist shrouded her face and her shining golden\ndress.  The flowers grew dim, the fruits ceased to shine, the fair\nmaids to curtsey, the fountains to play, and the birds to sing.  The\nKing shivered.  \"I thought that when you came I would have my garden at\nonce,\" he muttered.\n\n\"Come,\" said the Princess gently.\n\nTogether they swam back to the Palace.  The King was angry and\ndisappointed, but the beautiful picture of the golden Princess smiling\nat him through the trees was fixed for ever in his mind.  He began to\nthink that he would not mind doing a little digging, if only he might\nsee her face again.  The first thing to be done the next day was to\ndismiss all the gardeners; and of all the court only Sir Richard Byrde\nand Sir Hunny Bee were allowed to stay in the back-yard, where the King\nwas going to work with his own hands.\n\nSometimes in the long days that followed, the Princess sent out her two\nnymphs, Wynde and Worta to help him--but all the really hard work he\nhad to do quite alone.  Long days they were, for first there was so\nmuch, much, digging to be done.  All the patent soils had got mixed up,\nand twisted and turned the King's spade as he tried to dig.  He was not\naccustomed to digging either, and disliked getting hot, and also\ngetting blisters on his kingly hands--but as he toiled on he thought of\nthe Princess and her lovely garden.\n\nDay after day he worked and worked.  He felt as if each little tiny\ntask took him years and years; and then he had to wait what seemed to\nhim an eternity before anything happened at all; and then another\neternity before the Princess would come and smile upon his garden.\n\n\"Will it _never_ be a garden?\" he said at last.  \"Will you _never_ come\nand smile on it, and shall I _never_ see your face again.\"\n\n\"Not to-day,\" she said.\n\nAt last, one day, after a long time, when his back was bowed with\ndigging and his hands horny with working, he suddenly stopped, for a\nstrange light seemed to be shining from the Palace steps behind him.\n\n\"Do not look round yet,\" said the Princess' soft voice.  \"Look straight\nin front of you first.\"\n\nHe stood quite still, staring at what had been, until now, the backyard.\n\nAs he gazed there appeared before him paths of grass, green as emeralds\nand sparkling with dew, and bordered on each side with shells that\nglowed like mother-o'-pearl.  Flowers, flowers everywhere, Canterbury\nbells, and sunflowers, roses, lilies and lavender.  Fruit trees of gold\nand silver glittering in the sunshine, and behind, great dark leafy\ntrees inviting to shade and coolth.  Fountains splashing, and birds\nsinging.  He rubbed his eyes, thinking he must be dreaming.\n\nThen he turned--and there, standing on the Palace steps, was the\nPrincess.  No veil covered her face now.  There she stood in all her\nglorious golden beauty--smiling, radiant, as her name.\n\n\"You have your garden at last,\" she said.\n\n\nNow this story might have been written about any garden, yours or mine.\nFor the honey bee still helps to grow the Canterbury bells, and the\nbirds still help to scatter seeds, and people still line their paths\nwith cockle shells, and sunflowers are still called \"fair maids\" in the\ncountry.  As for the Princess Mary Radiant--why, it's only in the\nsunshine that the bells look like silver, and the cockle-shells like\nmother-o'-pearl, and it's only to the sun that the sunflowers turn\ntheir heads every day . . . and we all know the sun can be \"contrary\"\nenough!\n\n\n\n\nJACK AND JILL\n\n\"_When the well is dry, they know the worth of water_\"\n\n  Jack and Jill\n  Went up the hill,\n  To fetch a pail of water;\n  Jack fell down\n  And broke his crown,\n  And Jill came tumbling after.\n\n\n\"Oh dear, how I hate the rain,\" said Jack to Jill, as they stood at the\nwindow watching the drops trickling down the window-pane.  \"We can't do\nanything really nice when it is raining.  I wish someone would take all\nthe rain away so that we could have nothing but fine days.\"\n\nI _have_ heard Jacks and Jills say much the same things nowadays!  But\nthis particular Jack and Jill do not live nowadays at all.  They lived\na very long time ago, in a far-off country.  So long ago, and so far\noff, that witches were still alive, and one of them actually lived in\ntheir own village!\n\nThe village straggled up the side of a hill, and the Witch's cottage\nwas at the top of it.\n\nIt was a queer-looking, tumble-down place, but people said that from it\nthere were trap doors and passages leading to all sorts of caves and\ncellars dug out of the ground underneath.  It was surrounded by very\nhigh branching palings with skull-shaped knobs on the top of them.\n\nThe people in the village hardly ever saw the old Witch, except during\nthunderstorms and after late winter parties; but everyone who had seen\nher, declared that she was very ugly, and beyond a doubt very wicked.\nShe had an uncomfortable way, too, of sometimes appearing suddenly when\nshe was not wanted, and granting people's wishes.  This sounds very\nnice, but it may be horribly inconvenient.  The villagers realised\nthis, and it had become the fashion never to wish for anything; and so,\ndespite the presence of the Witch, the village was a happy and\ncontended place enough.\n\nJack was certainly not thinking about the old Witch when he said, \"Oh\ndear, how I hate the rain,\" on that particular afternoon.\n\nAnd Jill was certainly not thinking about the old Witch, when, a few\nminutes later, she heard a \"tap-tap\" on the door, louder and more\ninsistent than the pattering of the raindrops on the window-pane.\n\nSo they were both of them distinctly frightened when they went to the\ndoor and saw--who but the old Witch herself, on the doorstep!\n\n\"Oh dear,\" said Jack.\n\n\"Won't you come in?\" said Jill.\n\nAnd in she came.\n\nShe was certainly very ugly.  She had a hooked nose and pointed chin.\nGrey wisps of hair straggled out from beneath her poke bonnet.  Her\neyes were like two snakes, and when she opened her mouth to speak she\nshowed her long pointed iron teeth.  She was dressed in a black cloak,\nfrom which protruded her long skinny arms and claw-like hands.  She\ncarried a broom-stick, and behind her slunk her cat, all draggled with\nthe wet, and mewing frightfully.  She sat down on the chair Jill\noffered her.\n\n\"Thank you, my dear,\" she said, in a voice so harsh and grating that it\nsounded like a saw scraping over a stone.\n\n\"Surely you wouldn't grudge a poor old woman a rest on the way up to\nher cottage.\"  This with a leering grin at Jack, who was obviously\ndisconcerted at her presence.\n\nJack tried to make some polite reply, and then there was a long\nsilence, only broken by the pat, pat patter of the raindrops against\nthe window-pane.\n\n\"Now I wonder what you two were talking about so nicely when I came\nin?\" said the old Witch at last.\n\n\"We were talking about the rain,\" said Jill.\n\n\"Yes,\" blurted out Jack, \"we were saying, at least I was, that I hated\nthe rain.  You see, we can't go out when it is raining, and to-morrow\neverything will be wet, and we shan't be allowed to walk on the grass,\nand there won't be any cricket for days.  Oh, I wish----\"\n\n\"Ye-es,\" drawled out the old Witch.  \"I thought so.  You wish that\nthere was not any rain at all.\"\n\n\"Why, yes,\" said Jack.\n\n\"Would you like that too, my pretty dear?\" said the old Witch, turning\nto Jill.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Jill.\n\n\"Very well,\" said the old Witch.  \"Ve-ry well!  Let us make a bargain\ntogether.  If you, my little dear, (turning to Jill) will come and\nserve me for a year and a day, I'll manage this rain business for you,\"\nand she scraped her iron teeth together and smiled more horribly than\never.\n\n\"May I not come and serve you, too?\" said Jack.\n\n\"Dear me, no!\" said the old Witch, bringing her lips together with a\nsmack.  \"I don't want any boys about the place.  Besides, you'll be\nable to enjoy some of the fine weather first, and can tell your sister\nhow delightful it is when she comes back,\" and she winked at the cat,\nwho winked one of his green eyes back at her.\n\n\"Is it a bar-gain?\" drawled the old Witch.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Jack and Jill together.\n\nThen the old Witch drew from her under cloak, a long thin bag made of\nelastic.  This she opened, and hung out of the window.\n\nThe rain poured in.  When the bag was quite full she whipped a piece of\nstring out of her pocket and tied up the top end.  \"That will do for\nthe present,\" she said.  \"You can carry the bag, my little dear, and we\nwill go straight home and begin work immediately.  Say good-bye to your\nbrother and come along.\"\n\nSo Jill kissed Jack, took up the sack, (it was wonderful how very heavy\nit was,) and opened the door to go out.  It had stopped raining, but\nwas still grey and cloudy.  As it was already dusk there was no one in\nthe village street as they climbed the hill to the old Witch's cottage\nfollowed by the cat.  They went slowly.  Jill had plenty of time to\nlook about her.  The familiar cottage gardens were bright with flowers.\nBehind them spread the fields thick and lush with growing grass.  Over\nthe road arched the trees in all the freshness of their first spring\nbeauty.  At the foot of the hill babbled and gurgled the village\nstream, by the side of which clacked and chattered a few ducks\nrevelling in the glories of the recent shower.  Everything smelt fresh\nand pure and spring-like.  Only she, Jill, was tired, for the old\nWitch's elastic bag seemed to grow heavier and heavier, and the cat\nwould keep on rubbing up against her legs and disconcerting her by\nwinking and blinking up at her with his green eyes.\n\nIt was quite dark when they reached the old Witch's cottage.  Jill felt\nshe must be getting sleepy, but it certainly appeared to her as if the\nbranching palings round the cottage were really long lean arms joining\ntheir skinny hands, and as if the skull-shaped knobs on the top of them\nwere real skulls.\n\nAs they approached, all the eyes of all the skulls suddenly lit up like\nlanterns.  Jill began to wish that she had never come.\n\nThey went in.  The room was very small and dark, and the ceiling was\ncovered with cobwebs.  There was a horrible smell coming from a huge\ncauldron on the fire.\n\n\"Hurry up there,\" called out the old Witch sharply.  \"Put the bag down\non the floor and lay the table for supper.\"\n\nJill let down the bag on to the floor with a thud that disturbed\nseveral spiders and snakes which were crawling about.\n\n\"Hurry up there!\" called out the old Witch again.\n\nJill laid the supper.  The old Witch ate hastily, clawing huge pieces\nof meat out of the smoking cauldron, and throwing titbits to the cat,\nwho lay, winking and blinking as usual, in front of the fire.\n\nAfter supper the old Witch called out, \"Pick up the bag and follow me.\"\n\nSo Jill picked up the bag and followed the Witch into a corner of the\nkitchen.\n\n  \"Lift up the floor\n  And open door,\"\n\nbawled out the old Witch, tapping the floor with her broomstick.\n\nImmediately a square piece of the floor slid away, revealing a long\nflight of black steps.\n\n\"Follow me,\" said the old Witch again.\n\nShe went on down the steps and Jill followed, dragging the bag after\nher.\n\nThe steps were very dark and winding, but at last they reached the\nbottom.  Jill found herself in a huge vault.\n\nShe first of all thought the vault was empty, but when her eyes grew\naccustomed to the darkness, she saw that it was filled with rows and\nrows of empty casks.  Though the casks were empty, yet each one had a\nlabel.  Jill strained her eyes to read some of the labels in the dim\nlight.  \"Showers,\" \"Dew,\" \"Drinking-water!\"\n\n\"What extraordinary labels!\" she said to herself, and went on to the\nnext row.  \"Taps,\" \"Washing-water,\" \"Streams,\" \"Rivers,\" \"Mists,\"\n\"Frosts.\"  One very large one was labelled \"Thunder-storms.\"  The next\none to it, \"Raindrops, Special, extra loud patterers.\"  The next one,\n\"Steam reserved for Boats, second best quality only.\"  Rows upon rows\nof them, all empty, and all labelled with these curious labels!\n\n\"Bring the bag here,\" said the old Witch, pointing to a cask labelled\n\"Spring Showers.  Pure Refreshers.\"\n\nJill lifted up the bag and untied the string.  The water went pattering\ninto the cask.  When the bag was empty, and the cask was full, a lid\nslid on to the cask by itself.  Then the old Witch touched one of the\nwalls, and another door flew open, leading to a second and much smaller\nvault.  This vault was full of elastic bags like the one Jill had\ncarried up the hill.\n\n\"Take as many of these as you can carry,\" said the old Witch.\n\nSo Jill picked up as many as she could carry, and they went back the\nway they had come.\n\nWhen they reached the kitchen again the old Witch called out:\n\n  \"Shut down the floor\n  And close the door,\"\n\nand the floor closed up again.\n\n\"I am going out now,\" said the old Witch.  \"I shall not be back till\nto-morrow at dusk.  I shall lock the door so that you cannot get out.\nClean the place and have supper ready for me when I come back.\"\n\nShe took her broomstick.  Then, slinging all the empty bags across it,\nand balancing the cat on the other end, she mounted it astride.\n\n\"Abracadabra!\" shouted she.\n\nThe broomstick rose up in the air and swirled through the window, which\nshut down after her with a bang.\n\nSo Jill was left alone to work as best she might.  The next night when\ndusk approached she laid the supper and set the cauldron boiling.\n\n\"Abracadabra,\" and in swirled the Witch again, and the window shut\nafter her with a bang!\n\nThe elastic bags were full and distended as the old Witch flopped them\non to the floor.\n\n\"They are all full of water,\" said she.\n\n\"Where did you get it from?\" ventured Jill.\n\n\"Aha, I stole it!\" said the old Witch, with a wicked grin.  \"When the\npeople weren't looking, I stole it!  A bag here, and a bag there.  Some\nnice little thunderstorms I got too.  They won't like it when they wake\nup to-morrow and find their wells dried up, and their grass withering.\nHa! ha! ha!\" and the old Witch ground her teeth together more\nmaliciously than ever.\n\n\"Now, come along, pick up those bags and follow me,\" she cried, when\nshe had finished eating her supper.  So Jill picked up the bags.\n\n  \"Lift up the floor\n  And open door,\"\n\nshouted the old Witch, tapping the floor with her broomstick.  Once\nmore they went down the dark steps into the vault.  Jill untied the\nsacks and emptied them into the different casks according to the\nWitch's directions, and as each cask was filled a lid slid on of\nitself.  There was a terrible noise while the thunder-storm cask was\nbeing filled, and the old Witch had to mutter spells all the time to\nprevent it from running over.\n\nWhen the bags were empty and the casks full, the old Witch went into\nthe next vault and made Jill pick up and add some more bags to the\nnumber that she already had.\n\nThen they went back to the kitchen again.  At the top of the steps the\nWitch called out:\n\n  \"Shut down the floor\n  And close the door,\"\n\nand the floor closed up again.\n\n\"I am going out now,\" said the old Witch as before.  \"I shall not be\nback till to-morrow at dusk.  I shall lock the door so you cannot get\nout.  Clean the place and have supper ready for me when I come back.\"\nShe took her broomstick and bound on it the double number of elastic\nbags, perched her cat at the other end, mounted it astride, and with an\n\"Abracadabra,\" she was gone.\n\nThe next night at dusk she returned again with the bags full of water.\n\n\"Ha! ha!  I stole it,\" said she to Jill.  \"A bag here, and a bag there.\nThey won't like it when they wake up to-morrow and find they have no\nwater to wash in and precious little water to drink.\"  She ground her\niron teeth together and laughed again.\n\nAs before, Jill had to take the bags down to the vault, empty them in\nthe casks, and get a further supply of bags for the next day.  And so\nit went on for a year and a day.\n\n      *      *      *      *      *      *\n\nAt the end of that time the numberless casks in the vault were all\nfull; the last to be filled being those labelled \"Drinking-water\nPossible,\" and \"Reservoirs Old Fruity.\"\n\nOn the last evening the old Witch was in high spirits.  \"You have\nworked well, my pretty dear,\" she said to Jill.  \"Go home now and enjoy\nyourself,\" and she approached Jill as if to kiss her.  But Jill fled\nout of the door and through the gate-posts on to the hill outside.\n\nShe had never been outside the Witch's cottage since the day she came,\nbut she had often thought of the village street as she had seen it\nlast--cool and green and shady, with the babbling stream and chattering\nducks at the foot of the hill.\n\nWhen she got outside the fence she stopped suddenly.\n\nWhat had happened to the village?\n\nIt looked brown and baked and dusty.  The sun was intolerably hot.\nThere was not a field to be seen, nothing but a wide dreary desert of\nsand stretching on either side of the sun-baked houses.  A few rotting\nstumps by the roadside told where once the shady trees had been.  As\nJill went slowly down the hill she looked into the little dried-up\nyards that had once been gardens.  Oh, how dusty it was!  The stream\nhad disappeared, some bleaching bones told of the poor ducks' fate.\n\n\"Oh, I am thirsty!\" said Jill as she went on down the hill to her own\ncottage.\n\nA dirty, thin, brown-skinned, weak-looking boy was lying in the porch.\n\n\"Jill,\" he said feebly.\n\n\"Is that you, Jack?\"\n\n\"Yes, have you brought us any water?\"\n\n\"Me, no; I was just going to ask you for a drink.  I am so thirsty.\"\n\nJack smiled feebly.  \"There isn't any,\" he said.\n\nJill went indoors.  A dirty table-cloth was spread on the dusty table.\n\n\"Ugh!\" she said, coming out again, \"isn't there any milk?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Jack.  \"You see there is no grass for the cows.  Where's the\nwater gone?\" he cried, raising himself from his chair, \"that's what I\nwant to know.  I wish it would rain.  My word, wouldn't I hang my\ntongue out to catch the raindrops,\" and he sank back again exhausted.\n\n\"The water?\" said Jill, suddenly realising what that year with the old\nWitch had meant.  \"Why the old Witch has got it all!  Her casks are\nfull of it!  But she will never let us have it back again.\"\n\n\"Then we must go and fetch it,\" said Jack with a sudden burst of\nenergy.  \"You must come and show me where it is.\"\n\n\"Let us go at once,\" said Jill, \"while the Witch is out.  I know the\nspell to open the doors.  We must take a pail to put the water in.\"\n\nSo she went into the dusty, dirty kitchen and found a pail, and then\nshe and Jack set off to climb the glaring village street.\n\nThey passed some of the villagers.  They all looked as brown and dirty\nand thin as Jack.\n\n\"Where are you going?\" they called after the children.\n\n\"To fetch a pail of water,\" answered Jack.\n\nPoor Jack was so thin and tired, and Jill so hot and thirsty that they\nwere forced to stop many times on their way up the hill.\n\nAt last they reached the Witch's cottage.\n\n\"Abracadabra,\" called out Jill, and they both entered the house through\nthe window with the pail between them.\n\n\"Come along,\" said Jill, \"she may come in at any minute.\"  So they ran\nto the corner of the kitchen.\n\n  \"Lift up the floor\n  And open door,\"\n\ncried Jill, and they went down the steps.\n\nJack was so tired that he could hardly stand, but when he saw the casks\nhe clapped his hands.\n\n\"Quick,\" he cried, \"Abracadabra!\"\n\n\"What have you done?\" called out Jill the next minute.  \"You said\nAbracadabra to the thunder-storm cask.  They will all be surging out in\na minute!  Oh, dear! oh, dear!  See, _this_ is the drinking-water cask.\n\n\"Abracadabra!\"\n\nThe lid slid open.\n\nShe dipped the pail in.  \"You must not stop to drink now,\" she said.\n\"Come quickly before the thunder-storms pour out.\"  And without\nthinking what she was doing, she ran back, past all the casks, saying,\n\"Abracadabra,\" as quickly as ever she could.  Then, with the full pail\nin her hand, she stumbled up the steps, and Jack after her.  She did\nnot wait to shut the trap-door, but ran out of the house half-way down\nthe hill.\n\nJack tottered after her.\n\n\"I must have a drink,\" he said.\n\nHe caught hold of the handle of the pail, and was about to dip in his\nhead when----\n\nFlash! flash! across the sky came the lightning, and then a deafening\nroar of thunder.\n\n\"It's the old Witch!\" he cried, dropping the handle of the pail again.\n\n\"It's the thunder-storms tumbling out of the cask,\" said Jill, letting\ngo of her side of the pail too.\n\nThey started to run on home, but Jack caught his foot in the handle of\nthe pail as it rolled down the hill.  He fell headlong, cutting his\nhead on a stone in the pathway.  Jill tried to stop, but somehow got\nentangled with Jack's feet, and fell headlong too.\n\nAll the while the lightning was flashing and the thunder roaring\noverhead, and then, splash! splash! great drops of rain came pouring\ndown upon them.\n\nHow it rained!  It splashed down in torrents!  Streams and streams of\nit!  Drop after drop, shower after shower, storm after storm.\n\n\"I must have opened all the casks at once,\" said Jill.\n\nJack lay still where he was, he did not heed his broken head or his\ndrenched clothes.\n\n\"Oh, how good the rain is,\" was all _he_ said.\n\n      *      *      *      *      *      *\n\nWhen, at last, the rain did leave off, those who went to see, found\nthat the old Witch's cottage had been quite washed away.  Nothing\nremained to show where once it had been but one or two rotting casks,\nand a worn-out elastic bag.  The old Witch herself was never seen or\nheard of in the village again, but she is probably still wandering\nabout somewhere.  So don't be too anxious for the rain to leave off, in\ncase she should hear you, and come and steal all _your_ water!\n\n\n\n\nLITTLE MISS MUFFET\n\n  _\"Cowards are cruel_\n  _But the brave_\n  _Have mercy, and delight to save\"_\n\n  Little Miss Muffet,\n  Sat on a tuffet,\n  Eating her curds and whey.\n  There came a big spider,\n  And sat down beside her,\n  Which frightened Miss Muffet away.\n\n\nOf course if Miss Muffet had been just an ordinary little girl, she\nwould not have been afraid of spiders!  But she wasn't an ordinary\nlittle girl at all, she was a little fairy girl, which just makes all\nthe difference.  That is why she is always known as \"little\" Miss\nMuffet, because she was so very small, and spiders did seem to her so\nvery large; and that is why she is always called \"Miss\" Muffet, because\nfairy girls only have sur-names, just as if they were grown-ups!\n\nIt was really extremely awkward that Miss Muffet was so afraid of\nspiders, and of _the_ Spider in particular, because, you see, the one\nthing a fairy cannot be is a coward.  If a fairy once does a cowardly\nact, unless he or she immediately makes it right by doing a brave one,\nhe or she will become a mortal at once.  And think how dull it would be\nto become a mere mortal, when you have been used to flying, or dancing,\nor appearing in dreams, or granting wishes, or doing one of the hundred\nand one exciting things that fairies do!\n\nMiss Muffet lived under a gooseberry bush just outside the farm-house\ndoor, and the Spider lived in the barn opposite, and there was a fine\ntuft of grass in between, where they sometimes met.  The farm people\nknew all about fairies, and on Midsummer Eve always put out a bowl of\ncurds and whey for Miss Muffet in the true old-fashioned style.  Miss\nMuffet always hoped that the Spider would not see it and get there\nfirst.  Oh, Miss Muffet was certainly very much afraid of the Spider!\n\nShe was quite sure he had a hundred legs, whereas he had only eight;\nquite sure that he was as big as a house, whereas he wasn't as big as\nyour little finger; and quite sure that he spent his life lying in wait\nto eat her up, whereas he was far too busy about his own affairs ever\nto think about her at all!\n\nIt was on one particular Midsummer Eve that Miss Muffet had her great\nadventure with the Spider.\n\nIt was a beautiful moonlight night.  Miss Muffet crept out from under\nthe gooseberry bush, and flew across to the tuft of grass.  Yes, there\nwas the bowl of curds and whey as usual.  It had never been forgotten\never since Miss Muffet had come to live under the gooseberry bush.\n\nMiss Muffet tripped up to the bowl, and began to sip the contents,\nthinking all the while how glad she was that she was not a mortal,\nwhen----\n\nPlop!\n\nOut of the barn dropped the Spider, close down beside her.\n\n\"Can you tell me where the best dewdrops----\" he began.  But Miss\nMuffet only looked once in his direction, and then fled as fast as her\nwings could carry her.\n\nTrembling, she reached the gooseberry bush, and then, all of a sudden,\nher wings failed her.\n\n\"Oh dear,\" she cried.  \"I have run away, and been a coward.  If I don't\ndo something very brave at once I shall start turning into a mortal.\nOh, I don't want to be an ordinary little girl and be called Molly or\nDolly, and have to walk everywhere, and go to school, and put my hair\nin pig-tails.  I must do something brave this minute.\"\n\nThen her eye fell on the gooseberry bush.\n\n\"I know,\" she said, \"I will screw up my courage and kill that spider\ndead.  I will take a thorn from the gooseberry bush to spear him with.\"\n\nSo, with her tiny hands, she broke off a long thorn from the gooseberry\nbush.  Then, feeling very brave indeed, she shouldered the thorn and\nflew back very slowly to the tuft.\n\nAt first she thought the spider had disappeared, as she could not see\nhim anywhere.  But, happening to fly over the bowl of curds and whey,\nshe saw that he was lying struggling, in the very middle of it!\n\nAt first sight of him Miss Muffet felt all her old terror returning,\nand had half a mind to fly away again.  But then she remembered that\nshe had come to do a brave deed, and she held her big thorn tighter,\nand forced herself to look at the Spider as he struggled in the curds\nand whey.\n\n\"That will make it easier,\" she said, as she balanced herself on the\nrim of the bowl.  \"He will not be able to fly away when I start to stab\nhim,\" and she poised the thorn all ready for a vigorous thrust.\n\nThe Spider looked up at her.\n\n\"Gracious lady,\" he began humbly.  \"Can you direct me as to the best\nway out of this pond?\"\n\nMiss Muffet was so astonished at being addressed so humbly and so\npolitely by such a formidable person as the Spider, that she lowered\nher spear-point in order to look at him more closely.\n\n\"Gracious lady,\" began the Spider again.  \"I beg you will show me the\nway to get out of this pond soon.  I have eight hours more work to do\nto-night before my task is done.\"\n\n\"Work!\" said Miss Muffet, almost to herself.  \"Do _you_ do any work?\"\n\n\"Toil and spin, toil and spin, year in, year out,\" said the Spider\nsadly.  \"It is my masterpiece that I am finishing to-night,--a woven\ncounterpane, light as air, threaded with sparkling dewdrops.  I was\njust going out to fetch a few more, and thought there might be some in\nthis pond; but it is a sticky pond, and I fell in, and now I cannot get\nout again.\"\n\n\"Well, of all the idiots!\" began Miss Muffet.  \"Of course you won't\nfind dewdrops in there,\" she continued hastily.  \"But tell me some more\nabout your work?\"\n\nSo the Spider, still struggling in the curds and whey, told on.  How he\nhelped the gardener by eating up the flies; how day and night he toiled\nand spun, making and weaving carpets and counterpanes from silken\nthreads that he himself spun out of nothing.  \"It was my masterpiece I\nwas to finish to-night,\" he said again at the end.\n\nAll the while he was talking a great struggle was going on in Miss\nMuffet's mind.\n\nShe raised the thorn again.\n\n\"I came here to kill him.  I shall be a coward and turn into a mortal\nif I don't kill him,\" she said to herself.  \"But if I kill him he will\nnever finish his masterpiece.  Supposing I don't kill him after all,\nbut help him out, then he can finish his work and be happy.\"  She\nlooked at him again and shuddered.\n\n\"Oh, if I help him out he will eat me!\" she cried.  \"I _will_ be brave\nand kill him.\"\n\nSo she shouldered the thorn, and poised herself once more upon the edge\nof the bowl.\n\nThe Spider was still struggling, but more feebly, and Miss Muffet could\nhear him muttering to himself, \"Grey, threaded with silver and\nsparkling dewdrops, oh, my masterpiece!\"\n\n\"No!\" she said, flinging the spear down on the tuft behind her.  \"I\n_can't_ kill him.  What does it matter if I turn into a mortal.  I have\nnever done any work or made a masterpiece.  Let him eat me if he likes.\nI will _save_ him!\"\n\n\"Here!\" she said in a louder voice.  \"Give me one of your feet, and I\nwill pull you out.\"\n\n\"Ugh! how ugly he is,\" she continued to herself, as the Spider drew\nnearer and lifted up one of his feet.  She knelt down on the brim, and\nstretching out her tiny hands seized the foot, and pulled him slowly up\nthe side of the bowl.\n\n\"Now he'll eat me!\" she thought, as he stood for a moment shaking\nhimself on the edge.\n\nBut no, without a word he was gone, scuttling straight off to the barn\nas fast as he could run.  Was it possible that _he_ was afraid of _her_!\n\nMiss Muffet looked round.  Behind her on the ground lay the big thorn\nwith which she had set out to kill the Spider.\n\n\"I wonder it I have been a coward to spare him after all,\" she said as\nshe flew home.  \"Anyway, I shall know to-morrow morning.  Perhaps this\nis the last fly I shall ever have, and when I wake up to-morrow I shall\nbe just an ordinary little girl with no wings, and a serge frock and\npigtails.\"  And murmuring \"Coward, coward, I shall be an ordinary\nlittle girl to-morrow!\" she fell asleep.\n\nBut when she woke up to-morrow morning she found she was a fairy\nstill--wings and all; and moreover she found spread over her the\ndaintiest and most beautiful counterpane in the world, made of grey\nthreads woven with silver and diamented with dewdrops all glistening\nand quivering in the morning sunlight.  It was indeed a masterpiece!\n\n      *      *      *      *      *      *\n\n\"Look what a lovely spider's web there is under the gooseberry bush!\"\nsaid the farmer's little girl, when she came to fetch the empty bowl of\ncurds and whey that morning.\n\n\n\n\nPUSSY CAT, PUSSY CAT\n\n\"_The man who loses his opportunity loses himself_\"\n\n \"Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat, where have you been?\"\n \"I've been to London to visit the Queen.\"\n \"Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat, what did you there?\"\n \"I frightened a little mouse under her chair.\"\n\n\nYou would never think to look at Thomas now, as he lies blinking in\nfront of the fire, that he once had the chance of being King of England!\n\nTo us, Thomas only looks like an ordinary, sleek, well-fed, tabby cat.\nBut then, you see, you don't know Thomas' Private History.  Thomas\nhimself is usually too sleepy to think about his early adventures now,\nbut time was, when the mere mention of the Queen's name, would start\nhim off purring at the thought of what might have been!\n\nIt was a long time ago, when Thomas was just emerging from the kitten\nstage, that his Private History really began.  It started one evening\nwhen mother was reading the children the story of the White Cat in\nfront of the nursery fire before they went to bed.  Thomas, who had\nbeen more than usually frisky all day, was taking a little repose on\nthe hearthrug, and as the story was about a cat, had condescended to\nlisten.\n\nYou all know the story--how the White Cat, though in the form of a cat,\nwas really a princess, and how she married the prince, and changed back\ninto a princess at last.\n\nThomas listened enthralled, and from the moment the story ended, his\nPrivate History began.\n\nFor, at the close of the story, Thomas had quite come to the conclusion\nthat he, too, was no ordinary cat.  No!  As the White Cat in the story\nwas really a princess, Thomas was now convinced that he was really a\nprince, and only waiting to marry a princess, or better still, a Queen,\nto show himself in his true guise.\n\nIt was soon after this idea entered his head that Thomas became almost\nintolerable.\n\nThe airs he assumed!  The graces he put on!  The arts he practised!\nThe condescension of his smile!  The upward tilt of his nose!  The\ntwirl of his moustachios!  The defiant angle of his tail!\n\nHe began, also, to exercise his voice at night.  \"Practising\nserenades,\" was how he described it to the stable cat, for whom he had\nthe utmost contempt, though he was not above showing off his fine\nperson in front of her now and then.\n\nIt was about this time, too, that Thomas started on a long series of\nnightly prowls.  \"Quests of adventure,\" was how he described them.  He\nalso developed a habit of strolling in about breakfast time, and\nlistening to Papa reading aloud the morning paper; but it was only in\nthe Court news that he really took any interest.  From this he gathered\nthat it was in London that the Queen lived, and he became filled with a\nburning desire to go to London.  Accordingly he made himself more than\nusually agreeable to the family, in the hopes that they would take him\nwith them when they paid their yearly visit to town.\n\nAll this, of course, was Thomas' Private History at this time.  To the\nfamily he was only known as \"an excellent mouser,\" and \"so good with\nthe children.\"\n\nThis troubled Thomas not a little.\n\nIt also troubled him that he was so exceedingly fond of mice.\n\nHe far preferred them to milk, which was a much more princely diet.\nOnce, even, the idea just crossed his mind, that, as he was so fond of\nmice, perhaps he wasn't a prince after all, but only an ordinary tabby\ncat.  This thought he thrust from him with a flick of his tail.\n\n\"Just wait till I get to London,\" he said to himself.  \"When the Queen\nsees me she will at once recognise me for what I am,\" and he twitched\nhis nose contemptuously at the stable cat who was just crossing the\nyard.\n\nThe next day the family went up to London.  Thomas, to his great\ndelight, was taken too.  \"He is such an excellent mouser,\" Papa had\nsaid, and the children, \"Oh we can't leave Thomas, he is such a\ndarling.\"\n\nThis had annoyed Thomas, and hurt his dignity.  So, just before\nstarting, he went out to say good-bye to the stable cat.\n\n\"Good-bye,\" he said.  \"I don't suppose you will see me again, or if you\ndo, I don't suppose you will recognise me.  I am going up to London to\nmarry the Queen.\"\n\nThe stable cat expressed no surprise at this remarkable statement.  She\nmerely winked her yellow eyes and answered nothing.\n\n\"I suppose she thinks I am too fine to be spoken to by such as she!\"\nsaid Thomas to himself as he stalked away.\n\nThe journey up to London was certainly not a success as far as Thomas\nwas concerned.\n\nHe was put in a basket.  This he considered undignified, as well as\nuncomfortable, and he took no pains to conceal his feelings.  He\nscratched and spluttered at the side of the basket, and uttered his\nopinion of the family with no uncertain voice.  But nobody paid any\nattention to him.\n\n\"Very well,\" he cried at last.  \"When I am King of England you won't\nput me in a basket any more.  The next time I go on a journey, it will\nbe in a coach and four.\"\n\nThen he started thinking of how many mice he had caught last week, and\nthis thought comforted him so much that he curled round and went to\nsleep for the rest of the journey.\n\nThe evening after they arrived, one of the young ladies of the family\nwas to go and see the Queen.  Thomas privately decided to go with her.\n\nHe did not tell her he was coming too.\n\n\"Though, of course, if she knew I was her future King, she would be\nonly too delighted to be going with me,\" he thought.  \"All the same, I\nthink I will go quite quietly without any fuss, there will be plenty of\ntime for that afterwards.\"\n\nHe assisted while the young lady was being dressed.  She looked very\nbeautiful, with a long train, and feathers in her hair, and a sheaf of\nlilies in her arms.\n\n\"Just like a fairy princess,\" thought Thomas.\n\nShe went downstairs.  Thomas followed her.  She got into her carriage.\nThomas, concealed by her train, crept in too.\n\n\"I thought Thomas got in with me,\" she said anxiously.\n\nBut Thomas hid himself under the seat.  When they arrived at the door\nof the palace, she alighted, and Thomas got out after her.\n\nThe crowd was so occupied in gazing at the young lady's beauty that\nthey never looked at Thomas at all.\n\nThis annoyed him.  He was almost inclined to mew with vexation.\n\n\"Never mind,\" he consoled himself, \"she, poor girl, has only this one\nchance of being looked at, but everyone will always be looking at me\nwhen I am King of England,\" so he refrained from mewing.\n\nThe young lady walked in through the folding doors.  Thomas followed,\nstill concealed by the folds of her train.\n\nThey went along what seemed to Thomas miles and miles of red carpet,\nand were finally ushered, through a great door, into a great room.\nThomas disengaged himself from the young lady's train and sniffed, just\nto show that he was quite at home.\n\nThat sniff was fatal, for he scented a mouse somewhere!\n\nThe room was hung with red and gold, and surrounded with glittering\nmirrors.  There was a rustle of silks and satins.  On every side were\ncourt lords and ladies dressed in all their gorgeous splendour.  Fans\nfluttered, feathers nodded, diamonds sparkled in all directions.  Over\nall floated a strain of delicious dreamy music.  At the end of the long\nroom, up six red-carpeted steps was the Queen's golden chair of state.\nOn it sat the Queen herself, smiling graciously.  She was dressed in\nwhite and blazing with jewels, and she had a crown of gold upon her\nhead.\n\nIt was Thomas' great opportunity!  Who knows but that if he had walked\nsedately up to the Queen and asked her hand in marriage that she might\nnot have consented, and then he might have turned into a Prince, and\nbeen King of England!  Yes, it was certainly Thomas' opportunity.\n\nThat fatal sniff!\n\nHe never saw the splendid room.  He never saw the beautiful ladies and\nthe gorgeous dresses.  Worse than all, he never saw the Queen herself\nat all.  All thoughts of being a Prince had flown out of his head.  As\nthough he had been bewitched, he had only one idea.\n\nThere was a mouse somewhere!\n\nHe was no longer Thomas the Prince in Disguise, he was only Thomas \"the\ngood mouser.\"\n\nHe crept forward cautiously, sniffing as he went, and slid noiselessly\nup to the Queen's great chair.  Yes, there was the mouse peeping out\nfrom behind one of the golden legs.  Thomas sprang forward.\n\n\"What is that cat doing here?\" called out the Queen.  \"Send him out of\nthe room immediately.\"\n\nA dozen hands were stretched forward to seize the unfortunate Thomas.\nHe saw the mouse run like a dart towards a hole in the wall.  He dashed\nafter it.\n\nThen ensued such a hue and cry as never was seen.  People rushed here,\nand rushed there, and stepped on each other's toes, and tore each\nother's gowns.  Several ladies fainted, and everyone hurried in pursuit\nof Thomas.\n\nHe ran this way and that, and turned and twisted himself in every\ndirection.  At last he found himself near the door, and slipped out\nwith the whole crowd after him.  He ran and ran till he had\noutdistanced them all, and even then he still ran on from mere fright.\n\nIt was a very draggled and dishevelled Thomas that appeared next\nmorning at the stable door of his old home in the country.\n\n\"Hm, I thought so,\" said the old stable cat when she at last recognised\nhim.  \"Cat you were born, and cat you will remain all the rest of your\ndays.  King of England indeed!\"\n\nThomas has no Private History now.\n\n\n\n\nHEY, DIDDLE, DIDDLE!\n\n\"_Live merrily_\"\n\n  Hey, diddle, diddle!\n  The Cat and the Fiddle,\n  The Cow jumped over the moon.\n  The little Dog laughed to see such sport,\n  And the Dish ran away with the Spoon.\n\n\nOnce upon a time in a large white farm-house upon an open moor there\nlived a Wizard.\n\nAs you know, wizards work very hard; and about once a year, usually\ntowards the middle of March, they take a holiday--and then very\nextraordinary things happen.\n\nOne March night this particular Wizard set off upon his holiday as\nusual.\n\nBefore he went he looked round to see that everything was tidy and in\nits place.  Yes, there was the Cat dozing in front of the fire.  The\nFiddle was standing upright in a corner of the room.  The Dish was on\nthe dresser and the Spoon in the basket.  The little Dog was guarding\nthe door outside.  The Cow was lying by the cow-tub in the yard.  All\nlooked peaceful and in order.\n\nSo the Wizard put all his magic into his tall black hat, shut the door,\nand went out.\n\nWhen he had passed through the farmyard gate he locked and bolted it\nbehind him.  But the lock was very stiff, and in turning and pulling\nout the key, his black hat got pushed on one side, so that a little of\nthe magic escaped, and filtered back through the keyhole.\n\nThe Wizard, without stopping to think what might happen, pulled his hat\nstraight, and went off into the wide world to enjoy his holiday.\n\nThe little bit of magic floated slowly in through the farm-yard gate;\nover the Cow by the cow-tub; over the little Dog guarding the door;\nthrough the keyhole of the door; over the Cat dozing in front of the\nfire; into the corner where stood the Fiddle; into the basket where lay\nthe Spoon; and finally rested on the Dish on the dresser shelf.  The\nDish yawned, steadied himself, slowly dismounted from the dresser, and\nbalanced himself on the kitchen table.\n\n\"Spoon, my love,\" he said wearily.\n\n\"Yes, my sweet,\" answered the Spoon, tripping out of the basket on to\nthe table beside him.\n\n\"I can make love as well as that, and better,\" said the Cow, poking her\nhead through the kitchen window.\n\n\"Here we are again!\" said the little Dog, bursting in through the door.\n\nThe Cat and Fiddle bowed and scraped to each other in the corner.\n\n\"Hey, diddle, diddle!  The Dog has no manners,\" squeaked the Fiddle.\n\n\"No, indeed,\" said the Cat, politely.\n\n\"Spoon, my love,\" began the Dish again, \"what a miserable life we lead.\nLaid down to do the same old things over and over again.  Though twice\na day your elegant figure approaches mine, and I see myself reflected\nin your shining countenance, yet have I never a chance of telling you\nhow much I admire you.  We have never any opportunity for amusement, or\nprivate conversation.  Though you do occasionally scrape me, just to\nshow me how much you love me.  Yet, oh my Spoon, that is not enough.  I\nam weary, oh my Spoon, of being laid on a dresser or a table.  I loathe\nthat my beautiful form should be covered with gravy or soapy water.\nOh, my Spoon, in these few hours that are before us, let us forget our\nmiserable and monotonous existence.  Let us show the world that we can\ntwirl and spin with the best of them.  Let us dance, my love, let us\ndance, and,\" he continued, pursing his lips, and lowering his voice to\na whisper, \"when the fun is at its highest, let us run away from here\naltogether, and get married and live happily ever after,\" and he\ntwirled round on his edge, just to show what he could do.\n\n\"Yours is a delightful plan, my sweet!\" said the Spoon.  \"You are\nindeed a lordly Dish,\" and she simpered charmingly.\n\n\"I could think of as good a plan as that and a better,\" bellowed the\nCow through the window.  \"I could think of a plan as big as the sky.\"\n\n\"What's the odds, so long as we're happy!\" chortled the little Dog.\n\n\"Hey, diddle, diddle! how vulgar he is!\" squeaked the Fiddle.\n\n\"I quite agree with you,\" said the Cat, politely.\n\n\"Spoon, my love,\" began the Dish once more, \"shall we ask the Cat and\nFiddle to sing and play for us, while we dance?\"\n\n\"Certainly, my sweet,\" said the Spoon, and added coyly, \"I am sure if\n_you_ asked them, they could refuse you nothing.\"\n\n\"I can sing and play as well as they can and better,\" bawled the Cow\nagain through the window.  \"My top notes reach the stars.\"\n\n\"You may all sing and play till you're hoarse for all I care!\" said the\nlittle Dog.\n\n\"Hey, diddle, diddle! don't let's pay any attention to him,\" squeaked\nthe Fiddle.\n\n\"But we may as well oblige the others,\" said the Cat.\n\nSo the Cat and the Fiddle struck up a lively tune in which they each\nstrove as to who would squeak the highest.  The Dish and the Spoon\ndanced and klinked blissfully together on the centre of the kitchen\ntable.\n\nAs the music got louder and louder, and wilder and wilder, the little\nDog joined in the dance, and at last even the Cow tossed up her four\nlegs and started dancing too.\n\n\"Spoon, my love, see how high I can spring,\" said the Dish, coming down\non the table with such a thud that he nearly cracked from top to\nbottom.  \"When I do that again,\" he added in a lower voice, \"it will be\nthe signal for you to run away with me.  What a night we are having!\"\nand he twirled round faster than ever.\n\n\"Yes, my sweet,\" answered the Spoon, \"everything that you do is right.\nWherever you run I will run too.  I would that I could spring as high\nas you do,\" and she turned gracefully on her handle.\n\n\"I can jump as high as that and higher,\" roared the Cow through the\nwindow.  \"I can jump over the moon.\"\n\n\"All right, old girl, do it then,\" said the little Dog, skipping out\ninto the yard, when the moon was shining in all her splendour, and\nreflected round and bright in the cow-tub.\n\n\"Hey, diddle, diddle!\" squeaked the Fiddle, louder and more\ncontemptuously than ever.\n\n\"Me-ow!\" shrieked the Cat on an even higher note.  They played and sang\nmore vigorously than before.\n\n\"Over the moon you go!\" shouted the little Dog to the Cow.\n\nShe tossed up her heels, and springing high into the air jumped over\nthe cow-tub, wherein shone the moon's reflection as round and bright as\nthe moon itself.  The little Dog nearly split his sides with laughing.\n\"Ha! ha! ha! that's a good joke,\" he said.  \"You had me there nicely,\"\nand he and the Cow started jumping about together all over the yard.\n\nThe Cat and the Fiddle squeaked louder.\n\nThe Cow and the little Dog jigged higher and higher.  Never was heard\nsuch a noise!\n\nThe Dish jumped off the table with a thud.\n\n\"Spoon, my love,\" he whispered, \"the moment has arrived.  The little\nDog has left the door open.  Fly with me.\"\n\nThere was such a hullaballoo going on that nobody except the Spoon\nheard what he said.  He seized her round her elegant waist and danced\naway with her, through the open door, and across the farm-yard.\n\nThey were just wondering how they should get out of the gate, when----\n\nSnip!  Snap!  Snorum!\n\nThere stood the Wizard just outside!\n\nThe Dish and the Spoon looked guiltily at each other, but they could\nnot stop dancing.\n\n\"What is all this noise!\" cried out the Wizard angrily.\n\nThe little Dog and the Cow heard his voice in the yard.  They, too,\nlooked guiltily at each other, but they could not stop dancing.\n\n\"What are you all about!\" cried the Wizard again, still more angrily.\n\nThe Cat and the Fiddle heard his angry voice through the open door.\nThey, too, looked guiltily at each other, but they could not stop\nplaying or singing.\n\nThen the Wizard lost his temper altogether.  \"Pouf!\" he said, flinging\nback his head, so that his hat fell off, and the magic went rolling\nabout all over the place.\n\n\"Pouf!  Is _this_ the way you behave when I am not here.  Can't you\nstop that disgraceful noise!  Pouf!!  I will get rid of the whole lot\nof you!\"\n\nHe raised his foot and gave the farm-yard gate one tremendous kick.\n\nIt was a magic kick.\n\nBefore you would have had time to say \"Snip!  Snap!  Snorum!\" the whole\nfarm, Cat, Fiddle, Dog, Cow, Dish, Spoon and all, went flying sky high\ninto the air.\n\nEven then they could not leave off dancing and singing.\n\n\"Spoon, my love!\" sobbed the Dish, \"I wish I was sitting down on the\ndresser again.\n\n\"Yes, my sweet,\" panted the Spoon.\n\n\"I can breathe as well as you and better!\" puffed the Cow.\n\n\"Whew-w-w,\" whistled the little Dog.\n\n\"Hey, diddle, diddle,\" sniffed the Fiddle.\n\n\"Yes, we are all quite breathless,\" gasped the Cat.\n\nBut still they went swirling on.\n\nUp, up, they flew, dancing and singing all the time.  The music sounded\nfainter and fainter as they mounted higher and higher into the sky, but\ntheir forms were still quite plainly visible.\n\nWhat a pity it was that the Wizard had forgotten all about that little\nbit of magic that had filtered in through the keyhole, for now they\nwere doomed to go on singing and dancing for ever.\n\nA long time has gone by from that day to this, but they have never\nceased to swirl along up there in the sky.  They have been in the glare\nof the sun now for so many years that they are bleached quite white,\nand their outlines are blurred and indistinct.  Yet, if you look\ncarefully enough, you will see them all--Cat, Fiddle, Cow, little Dog,\nDish and Spoon, and even bits of the farm-house too--for they are\nalways sailing along somewhere, high up above our heads.","title":"More Tales in the Land of Nursery Rhyme","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":15330}