{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_23477/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_23477","id":"gutenberg_23477","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/23477","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Children's stories","Fairy tales"],"text":"Produced by Mark C. Orton, Janet Blenkinship and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This\nfile was produced from images generously made available\nby The University of Florida, The Internet\nArchive/Children's Library)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nLILLIPUTIAN LIBRARY.\n\nNEW SERIES.\n\n\nUP! HORSIE!\n\nAN\n\nOriginal Fairy Tale.\n\nBY\n\nMADAME DE CHATELAIN.\n\n\nJOSEPH, MYERS, & CO., 144, LEADENHALL STREET, LONDON, E.C.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\n\nTHE\n\nLILLIPUTIAN LIBRARY.\n\nUP! HORSIE!\n\n\nA young peasant was riding to market on a stout, well-fed nag, when he\novertook an old Scotch shepherd, who was trudging along on foot.\n\n\"I say, Sandy,\" cried the young man, \"if you go no faster than that,\nmarket will be over before you get to town.\"\n\nThe Scotchman turned round, and peered at him from under his bushy\neyebrows, saying in a strong north country accent: \"Gin ye think so,\nsuppose we ride and tie?\"\n\n\"A pretty story indeed!\" quoth Gilbert--\"I keep a horse for myself, and\nnot for you.\"\n\nAnd as he uttered this ungracious answer, he urged on his nag, and soon\nleft the old Scotchman in the lurch.\n\nScarcely had Gilbert reached the market town, and put up his horse at an\ninn, when who should he behold strolling leisurely amongst the market\nfolks, but the same old shepherd he had left so far behind.\n\n\"Somebody must have given you a lift, Sandy,\" observed he.\n\n\"Oh,\" replied the shepherd, \"when I asked for a lift, it was only to see\nif you were obliging or not--it was all the same to me--for though you\nmust buy your horses, I can gather mine whenever I choose.\"\n\nThese words sounded so odd to Gilbert that he begged the stranger to\nexplain his meaning, when the old man said: \"Meet me at yon inn, and\nwe'll see.\"\n\nGilbert then hurried through his business, and went to join the shepherd\nat the inn. But the wary Scotchman would not give his secret for\nnothing--and why should he, to a stranger who had been uncivil to him?\nBesides, as he observed truly enough, those who are curious may pay for\ntheir curiosity, so if Gilbert wanted to know how to gather horses thus\neasily, he must hand him over all the money he had received that\nmorning, and give him his nag into the bargain. Gilbert thought these\ndemands exorbitant, and tried to haggle with the stranger, but Sandy\nproved too much for him, Northumbrian though he was--and the young\nfarmer finished by agreeing to his conditions, and after paying down\nthe money, brought the horse out of the stable.\n\n\"Now I'll tell you,\" said the Scotchman. \"May be you've heard of our\nlate poet Burns, just over the border? Well, he told of a shepherd lad\nwho years and years ago learnt of some wise ones, that if you pull a\nstem of ragwort, and sit astride it, and cry out: 'Up! Horsie!' it will\ncarry you through the air.\"\n\n\"And have you tried it and succeeded?\" eagerly inquired Gilbert.\n\n\"Ay--for that shepherd lad was myself, and many a pleasant jaunt have I\nenjoyed by that same means,\" said Sandy, with twinkling eyes. \"Only you\nmust not attempt it till the moon is full, or the horse might throw an\ninexperienced rider.\"\n\nDelighted at having learnt such a secret, and without pausing to wonder\nhow, if the shepherd had lived so many years before Burns, he could\nstill be alive, Gilbert inquired what places he went to?\n\n\"I went to Elf-land,\" said the Scotchman.\n\nGilbert was not learned--indeed he could scarcely read--and he\nconfessed he did not know the road thither; but the stranger assured him\nhe need only express the wish to go, and the ragwort would take him.\nThey then parted, and the shepherd rode away with the horse, after\nstowing away the money in his pouch, while Gilbert went home as best he\nmight.\n\nAfter waiting impatiently for the full moon, Gilbert at last went out\none night to work the charm, and to his great delight, had no sooner\nbestrided the ragwort, and said: \"Up! Horsie!\" than it bore him at a\npretty smart pace to Elf-land. Nevertheless it just began to dawn as he\nreached his journey's end, and dismounted. He had not proceeded far,\nbefore he perceived a splendid castle on an eminence, and numerous\nflocks browsing on the surrounding hills. But what arrested his\nattention still more was a very lovely woman, superbly drest, sitting at\nthe foot of the hill, playing on an ivory fiddle of exquisite\nworkmanship, with golden strings, from which she drew the sweetest tones\nhe had ever heard in his whole life. Gilbert stood still, quite\nentranced, and could have listened for ever, had not the lady, on\nbecoming conscious of his presence, stopped short, and blushed with\npretty confusion at having been overheard by a stranger.\n\n\"I never heard anything like it before!\" exclaimed Gilbert.\n\nShe raised her soft eyes towards his, and said: \"Will you enter my\nservice?\"\n\n\"That I will,\" answered he, quite bewildered by her beauty. \"What shall\nI have to do?\"\n\nThe lady pointed to the flocks grazing on the hill, saying he would\nmerely have to tend the sheep, and, above all, to mind that none got\nlost. She then gave him the ivory fiddle, saying he need only draw the\nbow across the strings, when the sheep, being accustomed to the sound,\nwould follow at his bidding. \"Now roam about wherever you please,\" added\nshe, \"only mind you return to yonder castle at nightfall, and bring the\nflock back with you, and then you shall have your reward.\"\n\nGilbert then set off to join the sheep, though not without looking back\nmany a time, to take a last glimpse of the lady who still sat near the\nbank, smiling more bewitchingly than ever. On reaching the top of the\nhill, he perceived that the sheep had already strayed down into the\nvalley, when he hastened after them, but only to see them enter a narrow\nglen helter-skelter, as if they were running for dear life. He now\nrecollected the fiddle would save him all further trouble, and drew the\nbow across the strings as the lady had told him, but instead of the\nexquisite music she drew from them, he only obtained a sort of\nscreeching noise, that seemed to spread a panic amongst the flock, and\nafter hurrying through the glen, the sheep dispersed both right and\nleft. Gilbert ran after first one group and then another, scraping away\nat his fiddle as hard as he could, but it was all of no use--he could\nnot overtake them. At length he was so tired that he was obliged to sit\ndown and rest. He began to feel hungry, too, not having eaten since his\nride to Elf-land, and looked about him for some cottage where he could\napply for breakfast. But no buildings of any kind were in sight. However\nhe soon found some trees laden with delicious fruit, and having appeased\nhis hunger, felt his strength so renovated that he again set out in\npursuit of his flock, which now looked like a mere speck in the horizon.\n\nUp hill and down dale did Gilbert go the livelong day, till the sun was\nbeginning to set, and then just as he thought he had come up with the\nstray sheep, they seemed to roll away and become clouds, that were drunk\nup by the parting rays of the glorious sun. He was now at a loss what to\ndo, and half ashamed to return to the castle and own to the lady that he\nhad lost, not merely two or three sheep, but the whole flock. But while\nhe was considering how to put the best face on the matter, he found\nhimself right in front of the castle, which he had deemed to be at a\ngreat distance, and there still sat the lady, singing most exquisitely,\nand holding a goblet of wine in her hand. As soon as Gilbert drew near:\n\"Drink,\" said she, \"for you must need refreshment after your day's\nwork.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said he, \"I have lost the sheep.\"\n\n\"Did I not tell you the fiddle would always bring them back?\" rejoined\nshe with the sweetest smile.\n\nThen, as she handed him the goblet, she took the ivory fiddle from him,\nand drawing the bow across the strings, brought out such thrilling\nsounds, that Gilbert listened in amazement, wondering why he had been\nunable to elicit any such tones from the instrument when it seemed so\nsimple to accomplish. In a moment he saw the surrounding heights covered\nwith sheep or mist, he could not tell which, for the wine that had only\njust moistened his lips, seemed already to have confused his brain, and\naltered all the features of the landscape. By the time he had drained\nthe goblet, Gilbert felt elated and delighted to an extraordinary\ndegree, while at the same time be lost, as it were, the consciousness of\nhis own identity. All he could remember was, that the lady bid him go\nand rest in the castle, and that he went up the hill, and, as he\nthought, entered the building, when sinking down on a soft couch he was\nquickly lulled to sleep by the snatches of the enchantress's song, the\nbreeze wafted from below, and lapped in the pleasing visions of\ndreamland.\n\nOn waking next morning, he found himself lying on the grass near the\ncastle, with the ivory fiddle beside him, and saw the flocks grazing\nquietly around, as if they had never ceased browsing all night. He rose\nup refreshed and invigorated, and when the lady came forth from the\ncastle and again plied him with a draught from the goblet, he felt ready\nto go forth and lead the sheep to fresh pastures.\n\n\"Mind you do not lose any of them, and don't forget the fiddle will call\nany stragglers back to you,\" said the lady with a parting smile and wave\nof her hand.\n\nGilbert thought nothing could be easier, having only an indistinct\nremembrance of yesterday's disasters, and longing more than ever to do\neverything in his power to please the lady of the castle. But in spite\nof his good-will, the sheep strayed away as before, and he spent a\ntoilsome day in vainly running after them, and fiddling away to no\npurpose. As before they seemed to merge into mist at the close of the\nday, and it was with a heavy heart he presented himself at the foot of\nthe hill where the lady was awaiting him. Again she gave him a draught\nof the delicious wine, and again took the fiddle and drew the bow\nacross the strings, when the flock began to return as before, but she\nlooked very grave as she said: \"Some of them are lost--you must seek\nthem to-morrow. Go now and rest in the castle.\"\n\nThen Gilbert, whose wits were in a still more confused state than the\nfirst time he quaffed that richly flavoured wine, went up the hill and\nfell asleep as before, and slept soundly till morning, when again the\nlady brought him a bumper, bidding him be sure and bring back all the\nsheep, or he would fall under her displeasure, while on the other hand,\nif none were found missing, she would not only give him his evening's\ndraught, but a kiss into the bargain. On hearing this, Gilbert thought\nno exertions would be too great for such a reward, and he set off in\nhigh spirits; but he had not gone a hundred yards before the flock\ndispersed three different ways, and let him fiddle as he would, he found\nit impossible to gather them together again. Nevertheless, he followed\none of the three groups, and in the heat of the chase, was led into a\nwild district amongst rocks and cascades, with overhanging trees, where\nthe sheep seemed to turn quite wild, and subdividing into yet smaller\nbands, some were seen scaling the steep crags and looking down from\ndizzy heights, while others dashed into the water and swam across the\nmountain streams. Gilbert ran about almost like one possessed, vainly\nstriving to collect the scattered fragments of the flock entrusted to\nhis care, and in despair at the thought of the sorry figure he should\ncut on returning to give an account of his day's work to the lady, and\nsorely troubled at the prospect of losing the promised kiss which he\nwould not have exchanged for a kingdom.\n\nAt length, after having scaled one of the highest crags, where he made\nsure of catching a sheep, which seemed just as he tried to seize it to\nmerge into the spray of the waterfall that leaped down a kind of natural\nstaircase of rocks, he felt so exhausted that he lay down on a knoll in\nthe fissures of the rock, exclaiming: \"Surely I must be bewitched!\"\n\nA loud laugh reverberated from the rocks below, and Gilbert slightly\nraised his head to see whence it proceeded. Seeing no one, he concluded\nit must be the cry of some strange bird, caught up by the echo, and then\nto drive away a kind of grisly feeling of terror that began to creep\nupon him, he took up his fiddle as he lay stretched on the grass, and\nfell to scraping away without the slightest regard to time or tune, more\nas if he were sawing a piece of wood, than playing on a musical\ninstrument. He then became aware of a very curious thing, which was that\nthe sheep all returned as he drew the bow backwards, tho' they were off\nagain the moment he drew it forwards. This convinced him he had not\nattended to the manner in which the lady drew the bow, and accounted for\nhis losing the sheep every evening. \"Now,\" thought he, \"I am sure of\nobtaining the kiss and the cup of wine, and I need take no further\ntrouble about the flock.\"\n\nBye and bye what he had taken for the gnarled and knotted branches of a\ntree, at a short distance from the spot where he was lounging, gradually\nassumed a human shape, and he saw the old Scotch shepherd advancing\ntowards him.\n\n\"So you have found it out at last!\" said he with a merry twinkle in his\neye, \"and what are you going to do next?\"\n\n\"Do?\" echoed Gilbert, \"why I shall roam about all day, and bring the\nsheep home every evening without a bit of trouble; and then the lady\nwill be pleased with me, and who knows, as there seems to be no other\nyoung men hereabouts, but what she may make me the lord of her fine\ncastle.\"\n\nThe Scotchman laughed loud and long, and it was not till Gilbert had\nnearly lost his temper that he could be induced to explain the cause of\nhis mirth, and then he said: \"Why, man, you have gone clean mad, and no\nwonder, as this fine lady of yours has been drugging you with Elfin wine\nto make a fool of you. If you don't mind she'll keep you here like a\nhorse in a mill all the days of your life, running after clouds you\nmistake for sheep.\"\n\nGilbert winced at this, and did not half like to be told he was a\nday-dreamer. He maintained he saw the flocks all round him, while Sandy\nexplained that morning mists were to be seen on the tops of all\nmountains, then become dispersed during the day, till they gather once\nmore at the approach of night, and that mists also hover over\nwaterfalls--and this was the whole history of Gilbert's flock. He had\nbeen served the same way himself the first time he came to Elf-land,\nonly not being quite so soft-pated as his new acquaintance he had found\nout the tricks that were played upon travellers; and he now asked\nGilbert whether he should help to extricate him from running after\nclouds, or whether he was determined to make a fool of himself for the\nrest of his life? Gilbert answered gravely that he was set upon wooing\nthe beautiful lady, and becoming the lord of the castle. \"The castle is\nabout as solid as those built by youngsters with playing cards, and as\nto this beautiful lady of yours, she is only an Elle-maid,\" said the\nScotchman contemptuously.\n\n\"Suppose she is?--What then?\" returned Gilbert philosophically. For the\nfact was he did not exactly know what sort of a creature that might be,\nnever having travelled so far before. \"Come, I must take pity on you,\nand save you in spite of yourself,\"--said Sandy. \"Here is some wax with\nwhich you must stop up your ears to-night, when you return to the lady,\nthat you may not hear that singing of hers which bewitches your sober\nsenses, and then if you draw the bow lengthways up and down the middle\nstring of the fiddle, in this fashion (taking up the fiddle and showing\nhim) as you approach her, and refuse both the wine and the kiss, you\nwill see what an Elle-maid really is.\"\n\nHe then laid the ivory fiddle down again, and by the time Gilbert had\nraised himself on one elbow to take it back, the shepherd was clean out\nof sight. Gilbert thought this very strange, and he began scraping once\nmore on the fiddle to see if the branches of the tree would again sprout\ninto his singular acquaintance, but they did not stir any more. Though\nnot believing in the full truth of Sandy's sneers about the castle and\nthe lady, Gilbert thought he would just follow his advice out of\ncuriosity, to see what it might bring to light, and perceiving it was\nnow time to retrace his steps, he descended from the rocks, and\nfollowing the course of the stream, returned to his night quarters by a\ndifferent road to any he had taken before. He now stopped his ears with\nthe wax Sandy had given him, and it was well he did, as he had just come\nwithin hearing of the Elle-maid's enchanting strains. He then drew the\nbow rapidly across the strings in a backward direction, when all the\nsheep instantly appeared on the surrounding heights, and next drew it\nlengthways up and down the middle string as the Scotchman had shewn him\nhow to do. He had now come upon the rear of the stately castle he longed\nto call his own, when he perceived it had neither a court-yard nor\nback-premises of any sort, and consisted solely of a front wall with\nwindows, but no rooms behind, like a ruin, though he had hitherto\nentertained the notion that he had slept beneath its roof, and on soft\ncushions too, which he now plainly perceived could only have been clouds\nlike his fabulous flock. Eager to pursue his discoveries still further,\nhe went on fiddling as he came down the hillock towards the lady, when\nwhat was not his horror and surprise on perceiving that the face he had\nso much admired was hollow as a mask behind!\n\nOn hearing him playing in so unusual a manner, the lady turned round\nher head sharply, exhibiting her bewitching countenance to his gaze, and\nsinging more sweetly than ever, as she offered him a goblet of wine. It\nwas fortunate he could not hear her sing, or that voice would have\nmelted all his resolutions, instead of which, he boldly dashed down the\nproffered cup, and on her offering to give him a kiss, he dealt her a\nbox on the ear, which upset her like a card figure, when he became so\nhorrified at the spectral unreality of the objects about him, that he\nran off as fast as his legs would carry him, fiddling like mad as he\nwent along. In his frantic flight he passed by streams of water that\nseemed to be nothing but tinfoil, and rocks that looked as if they were\nmade of pasteboard, and hollow like the Elle-maid's face, nor did he\nstop to take breath till after all the objects in the landscape had\nresumed their natural consistence, and clouds were clouds, and sheep\nreal woolly sheep, which shewed him to be beyond the limits of Elf-land.\n\nMeantime evening had waned into night, and the moon was beginning to\nrise, when Gilbert flung himself down on a bank to rest after his\nheadlong scamper. The cool air blew refreshingly over his fevered brow,\nand he felt like one restored to reason after a fit of madness, or\nawaking after a strange uneasy dream. \"Now,\" thought he, \"I need only\ngather some ragwort and go home.\" And he looked all about for some, but\nas it happened to be very rare in that neighbourhood, he walked on a\ngood way, peering about in the moonlight before he could find any. When\nat last he hit upon the wished for herb, great was his joy, and he\nplucked it as triumphantly as if he held in his hand the bridle of the\nfinest steed mortal ever looked upon, crying out: \"Up! Horsie!\" in a\nloud voice. But no horsie answered to the appeal, and the ragwort\nremained the simple herb it was before. Again and again he called out\nthe magic formula in tones now commanding and now entreating, and lastly\nquite passionately, only there was no spur nor whip that could move the\nragwort to serve as his horse. He now perceived old Sandy had tricked\nhim after all, and sent him to Elf-land without giving him the means of\ncoming back. So there was nothing for it but to trudge all the way back\non foot,--and a long way it was I can tell you! It is true Gilbert\nretained a hope that kept up his spirits a good while, that he should\nstill find some of the right sort of ragwort, and accordingly in each\nnew district he came to, he industriously gathered some specimens to try\nthe experiment, but with no better success. And after each fresh\ndisappointment, he could not help saying to himself: \"I wish I had given\nSandy a lift, and then I should never have got into this scrape.\" The\nworst of it was that Gilbert had scarcely any money about him, and when\nthat little was spent, he was at his wit's end to know how to pay his\nway home. Luckily he still had the fiddle, and though he could not play\na single tune, its tones were so sweet that people liked to hear them,\nand village children enjoyed having a scrape upon it, so that he always\nmanaged to get a night's lodging and a supper as he journeyed along, and\neven to get carried across the sea, for the sailors said it was as good\nas listening to a mermaid.\n\nWhen at last he reached home, he hung up the fiddle in his cottage, but\nthat same night it cracked right through with a loud moan, and fell in\nshivers on the floor. Gilbert tried to mend it, but he never could\nmanage to restore it to its right shape again. It was like a puzzle that\nbaffles a child's attempts to put it together. However, he made a sort\nof box of it, something like an Eolian harp, across which he stretched\nthe golden strings, and whenever the wind blew from Elf-land they would\nplay sweet mournful tunes, as the instrument lay on the window-sill.\n\nFor years Gilbert had a hankering to return to Elf-land and see a little\nmore of life amongst the Elle-maids and men, if there were any, but he\ncould never obtain a conveyance, and he knew he should not be able to\nfind the way on foot. And though as long as he lived he could not resist\npulling up some ragwort at every full moon, just to see if it possessed\nthe wished for quality, and muttering, \"Up! Horsie!\" certain it is he\nnever again obtained a horse out of the same stables, wherever they\nhappen to be situated.","title":"Up! Horsie!: An Original Fairy Tale","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":4045}