{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_3527/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_3527","id":"gutenberg_3527","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/3527","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Romance","Category: Science-Fiction & Fantasy","Fairy tales"],"text":"Produced by A. Elizabeth Warren\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE BLUE MOON\n\nBy Laurence Housman\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n     THE BLUE MOON\n     A CHINESE FAIRY-TALE\n     THE WAY OF THE WIND\n     A CAPFUL OF MOONSHINE\n     THE MOON-STROKE\n     HOW LITTLE DUKE JARL SAVED THE CASTLE\n     THE WHITE DOE\n     THE GENTLE COCKATRICE\n     THE RAT-CATCHER\u2019S DAUGHTER\n     WHITE BIRCH\n\n\n\n\nTHE BLUE MOON\n\nNillywill and Hands-pansy were the most unimportant and happy pair of\nlovers the world has ever gained or lost.\n\nWith them it had been a case of love at first blindness since the day\nwhen they had tumbled into each other\u2019s arms in the same cradle. And\nHands-pansy, when he first saw her, did not discover that Nillywill was\na real princess hiding her birthright in the home of a poor peasant; nor\ndid Nillywill, when she first saw Hands, see in him the baby-beginnings\nof the most honest and good heart that ever sprang out of poverty and\nhumble parentage. So from her end of their little crib she kicked him\nwith her royal rosy toes, and he from his kicked back and laughed: and\nthus, as you hear, at first blindness they fell head over ears in love\nwith one another.\n\nNothing could undo that; for day by day earth and sun and wind came to\nrub it in deeper, and water could not wash it off. So when they had been\nseven years together there could be no doubt that they felt as if they\nhad been made for each other in heaven. And then something very big and\nsad came to pass; for one day Nillywill had to leave off being a peasant\nchild and become a princess once more. People very grand and grown-up\ncame to the woodside where she flowered so gaily, and caught her by the\ngolden hair of her head and pulled her up by her dear little roots, and\ncarried her quite away from Hands-pansy to a place she had never been\nin before. They put her into a large palace, with woods and terraces and\nlandscape gardens on all sides of it; and there she sat crying and pale,\nsaying that she wanted to be taken back to Hands-pansy and grow up and\nmarry him, though he was but the poor peasant boy he had always been.\n\nThose that had charge of Nillywill in her high station talked wisely,\ntelling her to forget him. \u201cFor,\u201d said they, \u201csuch a thing as a princess\nmarrying a peasant boy can only happen once in a blue moon!\u201d\n\nWhen she heard that, Nillywill began every night to watch the moon rise,\nhoping some evening to see it grow up like a blue flower against the\ndusk and shake down her wish to her like a bee out of its deep bosom.\n\nBut night by night, silver, or ruddy, or primrose, it lit a place for\nitself in the heavens; and years went by, bringing the Princess no\nnearer to her desire to find room for Hands-pansy amid the splendours of\nher throne.\n\nShe knew that he was five thousand miles away and had only wooden\npeasant shoes to walk in; and when she begged that she might once\nmore have sight of him, her whole court, with the greatest utterable\npoliteness, cried \u201cNo!\u201d\n\nThe Princess\u2019s memory sang to her of him in a thousand tunes, like\nwoodland birds carolling; but it was within the cage which men call a\ncrown that her thoughts moved, fluttering to be out of it and free.\n\nSo time went on, and Nillywill had entered gently into sweet\nwomanhood--the comeliest princess that ever dropped a tear; and all she\ncould do for love was to fill her garden with dark-eyed pansies, and\nwalk among their humble upturned faces which reminded her so well of her\ndear Hands--Hands who was a long five thousand miles away. \u201cAnd, oh!\u201d\n she sighed, watching for the blue moon to rise, \u201cwhen will it come and\nmake me at one with all my wish?\u201d\n\nLooking up, she used to wonder what went on there. She and Hands had\nstolen into the woods, when children together, and watched the small\nearth-fairies at play, and had seen them, when the moon was full, lift\nup their arms to it, making, perhaps, signals of greeting to far-off\nmoon-brothers. So she thought to herself, \u201cWhat kind are the fairies up\nthere, and who is the greatest moon-fairy of all who makes the blue moon\nrise and bring good-will to the sad wishers of the human race? Is it,\u201d\n thought Nillywill, \u201cthe moon-fairy who then opens its heart and brings\ndown healing therefrom to lovers upon earth?\u201d\n\nAnd now, as happens to all those who are captives of a crown, Nillywill\nlearned that she must wed with one of her own rank who was a stranger\nto her save for his name and his renown as the lord of a neighbouring\ncountry; there was no help for her, since she was a princess, but she\nmust wed according to the claims of her station. When she heard of it,\nshe went at nightfall to her pansies, all lying in their beds, and told\nthem of her grief. They, awakened by her tears, lifted up their grave\neyes and looked at her.\n\n\u201cDo you not hear?\u201d said they.\n\n\u201cHear what?\u201d asked the Princess.\n\n\u201cWe are low in the ground: we hear!\u201d said the pansies. \u201cStoop down your\nhead and listen!\u201d\n\nThe Princess let her head go to the ground; and \u201cclick, click,\u201d she\nheard wooden shoes coming along the road. She ran to the gate, and there\nwas Hands, tall and lean, dressed as a poor peasant, with a bundle tied\nup in a blue cotton handkerchief across his shoulder, and five thousand\nmiles trodden to nothing by the faithful tramping of his old wooden\nshoes.\n\n\u201cOh, the blue moon, the blue moon!\u201d cried the Princess; and running down\nthe road, she threw herself into his arms.\n\nHow happy and proud they were of each other! He, because she remembered\nhim and knew him so well by the sight of his face and the sound of his\nfeet after all these years; and she, because he had come all that way in\na pair of wooden shoes, just as he was, and had not been afraid that she\nwould be ashamed to know him again.\n\n\u201cI am so hungry!\u201d said Hands, when he and Nillywill had done kissing\neach other. And when Nillywill heard that, she brought him into the\npalace through the pansies by her own private way; then with her own\nhands she set food before him, and made him eat. Hands, looking at her,\nsaid, \u201cYou are quite as beautiful as I thought you would be!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you--so are you!\u201d she answered, laughing and clapping her hands.\nAnd \u201cOh, the blue moon,\u201d she cried--\u201csurely the blue moon must rise\nto-night!\u201d\n\nLow down in the west the new moon, leaning on its side, rocked and\nturned softly in its sleep; and there, facing the earth through the\ncleared night, the blue moon hung like a burning grape against the sky.\nLike the heart of a sapphire laid open, the air flushed and purpled to\na deeper shade. The wind drew in its breath close and hushed, till not\na leaf quaked in the boughs; and the sea that lay out west gathered its\nwaves together softly to its heart, and let the heave of its tide fall\nwholly to slumber. Round-eyed, the stars looked at themselves in the\ncharmed water, while in a luminous azure flood the light of the blue\nmoon flowed abroad.\n\nUnder the light of many tapers within drawn curtains of tapestry, and\nfeasting her eyes upon the happiness of Hands, the Princess felt the\nchange that had entranced the outer world. \u201cI feel,\u201d she said, \u201cI do not\nknow how--as if the palace were standing siege. Come out where we can\nbreathe the fresh air!\u201d\n\nThe light of the tapers grew ghostly and dim, as, parting the thick\nhangings of the window, they stepped into the night.\n\n\u201cThe blue moon!\u201d cried Nillywill to her heart; \u201coh, Hands, it is the\nblue moon!\u201d\n\nAll the world seemed carved out of blue stone; trees with stems\ndark-veined as marble rose up to give rest to boughs which drooped the\naltered hues of their foliage like the feathers of peacocks at roost.\nJewel within jewel they burned through every shade from blue to onyx.\nThe white blossoms of a cherry-tree had become changed into turquoise,\nand the tossing spray of a fountain as it drifted and swung was like a\ncolumn of blue fire. Where a long inlet of sea reached in and touched\nthe feet of the hanging gardens the stars showed like glow-worms,\nemerald in a floor of amethyst.\n\nThere was no motion abroad, nor sound: even the voice of the nightingale\nwas stilled, because the passion of his desire had become visible before\nhis eyes.\n\n\u201cOnce in a blue moon!\u201d said Nilly-will, waiting for her dream to become\naltogether true. \u201cLet us go now,\u201d she said, \u201cwhere I can put away my\ncrown! To-night has brought you to me, and the blue moon has come for\nus: let us go!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere shall we go?\u201d asked Hands.\n\n\u201cAs far as we can,\u201d cried Nillywill. \u201cSuppose to the blue moon! To-night\nit seems as if one might tread on water or air. Yonder across the sea,\nwith the stars for stepping-stones, we might get to the blue moon as it\nsets into the waves.\u201d\n\nBut as they went through the deep alleys of the garden that led down to\nthe shore they came to a sight more wonderful than anything they had yet\nseen.\n\nBefore them, facing toward the sea, stood two great reindeer, their high\nhorns reaching to the overhead boughs; and behind them lay a sledge,\nlong and with deep sides like the sides of a ship. All blue they seemed\nin that strange light.\n\nThere too, but nearer to hand, was the moon-fay himself waiting--a great\nfigure of lofty stature, clad in furs of blue fox-skin, and with heron\u2019s\nwings fastened above the flaps of his hood; and these lifted themselves\nand clapped as Hands and the Princess drew near.\n\n\u201cAre you coming to the blue moon?\u201d called the fay, and his voice\nwhistled and shrewed to them like the voice of a wind.\n\nHands-pansy gave back answer stoutly: \u201cYes, yes, we are coming!\u201d And\nindeed what better could he say?\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d cried Nillywill, holding back for a moment, \u201cwhat will the blue\nmoon do for us?\u201d\n\n\u201cOnce you are there,\u201d answered the moon-fay, \u201cyou can have your wish and\nyour heart\u2019s desire; but only once in a blue moon can you have it. Are\nyou coming?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe are coming!\u201d cried Nillywill. \u201cOh, let us make haste!\u201d\n\n\u201cTread softly,\u201d whispered the moon-fay, \u201cand stoop well under these\nboughs, for if anything awakes to behold the blue moon, the memory of\nit can never die. On earth only the nightingale of all living things has\nbeheld a blue moon; and the triumph and pain of that memory wakens him\never since to sing all night long. Tread softly, lest others waken and\nlearn to cry after us; for we in the blue moon have our sleep troubled\nby those who cry for a blue moon to return.\u201d He looked towards\nNillywill, and smiled with friendly eyes. \u201cCome!\u201d he said again, and all\nat once they had leapt upon the sledge, and the reindeer were running\nfast down toward the sea.\n\nThe blue moon was resting with its lower rim upon the waters. At that\nsight, before they were clear of the avenues of the garden, one of the\nreindeer tossed up his great branching horns and snorted aloud for joy.\nWith a soft stir in the thick boughs overhead, a bird with a great trail\nof feathers moved upon its perch.\n\nThe sledge, gliding from land, passed out over the smoothed waters,\nrunning swiftly as upon ice; and the reflection of the stars shone up\nlike glow-worms as Nillywill and Hands-pansy, in the moon-fay\u2019s company,\nsped away along its bright surface.\n\nThe still air whistled through the reindeers\u2019 horns; so fast they went\nthat the trees and the hanging gardens and the palace walls melted away\nfrom view like wreaths of smoke. Sky and sea became one magic sapphire\ndrawing them in towards the centre of its life, to the heart of the blue\nmoon itself.\n\nWhen the blue moon had set below the sea, then far behind upon the land\nthey had left the leaves rustled and drew themselves sharply together,\nshuddering to get rid of the stony stillness, and the magic hues in\nwhich they had been dyed; and again the nightingale broke out into\npassionate triumph and complaint.\n\nThen also from the bough which the reindeer had brushed with its horns\na peacock threw back its head and cried in harsh lamentation, having no\nsweet voice wherewith to acclaim its prize. And so ever since it cries,\nas it goes up into the boughs to roost, because it shares with the\nnightingale its grief for the memory of departed beauty which never\nreturns to earth save once in a blue moon.\n\nBut Nillywill and Hands-pansy, living together in the blue moon, look\nback upon the world, if now and then they choose to remember, without\nany longing for it or sorrow.\n\n\n\n\nA CHINESE FAIRY TALE\n\n\nTiki-pu was a small grub of a thing; but he had a true love of Art deep\ndown in his soul. There it hung mewing and complaining, struggling to\nwork its way out through the raw exterior that bound it.\n\nTiki-pu\u2019s master professed to be an artist: he had apprentices and\nstudents, who came daily to work under him, and a large studio littered\nabout with the performances of himself and his pupils. On the walls hung\nalso a few real works by the older men, all long since dead.\n\nThis studio Tiki-pu swept; for those who worked in it he ground colours,\nwashed brushes, and ran errands, bringing them their dog chops and\nbird\u2019s-nest soup from the nearest eating-house whenever they were too\nbusy to go out to it themselves. He himself had to feed mainly on the\nbreadcrumbs which the students screwed into pellets for their drawings\nand then threw about upon the floor. It was on the floor, also, that he\nhad to sleep at night.\n\nTiki-pu looked after the blinds, and mended the paper window-panes,\nwhich were often broken when the apprentices threw their brushes\nand mahl-sticks at him. Also he strained rice-paper over the\nlinen-stretchers, ready for the painters to work on; and for a treat,\nnow and then, a lazy one would allow him to mix a colour for him. Then\nit was that Tiki-pu\u2019s soul came down into his finger-tips, and his heart\nbeat so that he gasped for joy. Oh, the yellows and the greens, and the\nlakes and the cobalts, and the purples which sprang from the blending of\nthem! Sometimes it was all he could do to keep himself from crying out.\n\nTiki-pu, while he squatted and ground at the colour-powders, would\nlisten to his master lecturing to the students. He knew by heart the\nnames of all the painters and their schools, and the name of the great\nleader of them all who had lived and passed from their midst more than\nthree hundred years ago; he knew that too, a name like the sound of the\nwind, Wio-wani: the big picture at the end of the studio was by him.\n\nThat picture! To Tiki-pu it seemed worth all the rest of the world put\ntogether. He knew, too, the story which was told of it, making it as\nholy to his eyes as the tombs of his own ancestors. The apprentices\njoked over it, calling it \u201cWio-wani\u2019s back-door,\u201d \u201cWio-wani\u2019s\nnight-cap,\u201d and many other nicknames; but Tiki-pu was quite sure, since\nthe picture was so beautiful, that the story must be true.\n\nWio-wani, at the end of a long life, had painted it; a garden full of\ntrees and sunlight, with high-standing flowers and green paths, and\nin their midst a palace. \u201cThe place where I would like to rest,\u201d said\nWio-wani, when it was finished.\n\nSo beautiful was it then, that the Emperor himself had come to see it;\nand gazing enviously at those peaceful walks, and the palace nestling\namong the trees, had sighed and owned that he too would be glad of such\na resting-place. Then Wio-wani stepped into the picture, and walked away\nalong a path till he came, looking quite small and far-off, to a low\ndoor in the palace-wall. Opening it, he turned and beckoned to the\nEmperor; but the Emperor did not follow; so Wio-wani went in by himself,\nand shut the door between himself and the world for ever.\n\nThat happened three hundred years ago; but for Tiki-pu the story was\nas fresh and true as if it had happened yesterday. When he was left to\nhimself in the studio, all alone and locked up for the night, Tiki-pu\nused to go and stare at the picture till it was too dark to see, and\nat the little palace with the door in its wall by which Wio-wani\nhad disappeared out of life. Then his soul would go down into his\nfinger-tips, and he would knock softly and fearfully at the beautifully\npainted door, saying, \u201cWio-wani, are you there?\u201d\n\nLittle by little in the long-thinking nights, and the slow early\nmornings when light began to creep back through the papered windows of\nthe studio, Tiki-pu\u2019s soul became too much for him. He who could strain\npaper, and grind colours, and wash brushes, had everything within reach\nfor becoming an artist, if it was the will of fate that he should be\none.\n\nHe began timidly at first, but in a little while he grew bold. With the\nfirst wash of light he was up from his couch on the hard floor, and was\ndaubing his soul out on scraps, and odds-and-ends, and stolen pieces of\nrice-paper.\n\nBefore long the short spell of daylight which lay between dawn and the\narrival of the apprentices to their work did not suffice him. It took\nhim so long to hide all traces of his doings, to wash out the brushes,\nand rinse clean the paint-pots he had used, and on the top of that to\nget the studio swept and dusted, that there was hardly time left him in\nwhich to indulge the itching appetite in his fingers.\n\nDriven by necessity, he became a pilferer of candle-ends, picking them\nfrom their sockets in the lanterns which the students carried on dark\nnights. Now and then one of these would remember that, when last used,\nhis lantern had had a candle in it, and would accuse Tiki-pu of having\nstolen it. \u201cIt is true,\u201d he would confess; \u201cI was hungry--I have eaten\nit.\u201d The lie was so probable, he was believed easily, and was well\nbeaten accordingly. Down in the ragged linings of his coat Tiki-pu could\nhear the candle-ends rattling as the buffeting and chastisement fell\nupon him, and often he trembled lest his hoard should be discovered.\nBut the truth of the matter never leaked out and at night, as soon as he\nguessed that all the world outside was in bed, Tiki-pu would mount one\nof his candles on a wooden stand and paint by the light of it, blinding\nhimself over his task, till the dawn came and gave him a better and\ncheaper light to work by.\n\nTiki-pu quite hugged himself over the results; he believed he was doing\nvery well. \u201cIf only Wio-wani were here to teach me,\u201d thought he, \u201cI\nwould be in the way of becoming a great painter!\u201d\n\nThe resolution came to him one night that Wio-wani should teach him. So\nhe took a large piece of rice-paper and strained it, and sitting down\nopposite \u201cWio-wani\u2019s back-door,\u201d began painting. He had never set\nhimself so big a task as this; by the dim stumbling light of his candle\nhe strained his eyes nearly blind over the difficulties of it; and at\nlast was almost driven to despair. How the trees stood row behind row,\nwith air and sunlight between, and how the path went in and out, winding\nits way up to the little door in the palace-wall were mysteries he could\nnot fathom. He peered and peered and dropped tears into his paint-pots;\nbut the secret of the mystery of such painting was far beyond him.\n\nThe door in the palace-wall opened; out came a little old man and began\nwalking down the pathway towards him.\n\nThe soul of Tiki-pu gave a sharp leap in his grubby little body. \u201cThat\nmust be Wio-wani himself and no other!\u201d cried his soul.\n\nTiki-pu pulled off his cap and threw himself down on the floor with\nreverent grovellings. When he dared to look up again Wio-wani stood\nover him big and fine; just within the edge of his canvas he stood and\nreached out a hand.\n\n\u201cCome along with me, Tiki-pu!\u201d said the great one. \u201cIf you want to know\nhow to paint I will teach you.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, Wio-wani, were you there all the while?\u201d cried Tiki-pu\necstatically, leaping up and clutching with his smeary little puds the\nhand which the old man extended to him.\n\n\u201cI was there,\u201d said Wio-wani, \u201clooking at you out of my little window.\nCome along in!\u201d\n\nTiki-pu took a heave and swung himself into the picture, and fairy\ncapered when he found his feet among the flowers of Wio-wani\u2019s beautiful\ngarden. Wio-wani had turned, and was ambling gently back to the door of\nhis palace, beckoning to the small one to follow him; and there\nstood Tiki-pu, opening his mouth like a fish to all the wonders that\nsurrounded him. \u201cCelestiality, may I speak?\u201d he said suddenly.\n\n\u201cSpeak,\u201d replied Wio-wani; \u201cwhat is it?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Emperor, was he not the very flower of fools not to follow when you\ntold him?\u201d\n\n\u201cI cannot say,\u201d answered Wio-wani, \u201cbut he certainly was no artist.\u201d\n\nThen he opened the door, that door which he had so beautifully painted,\nand led Tiki-pu in. And outside the little candle-end sat and guttered\nby itself, till the wick fell overboard, and the flame kicked itself\nout, leaving the studio in darkness and solitude to wait for the\ngrowings of another dawn.\n\nIt was full day before Tiki-pu reappeared; he came running down the\ngreen path in great haste, jumped out of the frame on to the studio\nfloor, and began tidying up his own messes of the night and the\napprentices\u2019 of the previous day. Only just in time did he have things\nready by the hour when his master and the others returned to their work.\n\nAll that day they kept scratching their left ears, and could not think\nwhy; but Tiki-pu knew, for he was saying over to himself all the things\nthat Wio-wani, the great painter, had been saying about them and their\nprecious productions. And as he ground their colours for them and washed\ntheir brushes, and filled his famished little body with the breadcrumbs\nthey threw away, little they guessed from what an immeasurable distance\nhe looked down upon them all, and had Wio-wani\u2019s word for it tickling\nhis right ear all the day long.\n\nNow before long Tiki-pu\u2019s master noticed a change in him; and though he\nbullied him, and thrashed him, and did all that a careful master should\ndo, he could not get the change out of him. So in a short while he grew\nsuspicious. \u201cWhat is the boy up to?\u201d he wondered. \u201cI have my eye on him\nall day: it must be at night that he gets into mischief.\u201d\n\nIt did not take Tiki-pu\u2019s master a night\u2019s watching to find that\nsomething surreptitious was certainly going on. When it was dark he took\nup his post outside the studio, to see whether by any chance Tiki-pu had\nsome way of getting out; and before long he saw a faint light showing\nthrough the window. So he came and thrust his finger softly through one\nof the panes, and put his eye to the hole.\n\nThere inside was a candle burning on a stand, and Tiki-pu squatting with\npaint-pots and brush in front of Wio-Wani\u2019s last masterpiece.\n\n\u201cWhat fine piece of burglary is this?\u201d thought he; \u201cwhat serpent have I\nbeen harbouring in my bosom? Is this beast of a grub of a boy\nthinking to make himself a painter and cut me out of my reputation and\nprosperity?\u201d For even at that distance he could perceive plainly that\nthe work of this boy went head and shoulders beyond his, or that of any\npainter then living.\n\nPresently Wio-wani opened his door and came down the path, as was his\nhabit now each night, to call Tiki-pu to his lesson. He advanced to the\nfront of his picture and beckoned for Tiki-pu to come in with him; and\nTiki-pu\u2019s master grew clammy at the knees as he beheld Tiki-pu catch\nhold of Wio-wani\u2019s hand and jump into the picture, and skip up the green\npath by Wio-wani\u2019s side, and in through the little door that Wio-wani\nhad painted so beautifully in the end wall of his palace!\n\nFor a time Tiki-pu\u2019s master stood glued to the spot with grief and\nhorror. \u201cOh, you deadly little underling! Oh, you poisonous little\ncaretaker, you parasite, you vampire, you fly in amber!\u201d cried he,\n\u201cis that where you get your training? Is it there that you dare to go\ntrespassing; into a picture that I purchased for my own pleasure and\nprofit, and not at all for yours? Very soon we will see whom it really\nbelongs to!\u201d\n\nHe ripped out the paper of the largest window-pane and pushed his way\nthrough into the studio. Then in great haste he took up paint-pot and\nbrush, and sacrilegiously set himself to work upon Wio-wani\u2019s last\nmasterpiece. In the place of the doorway by which Tiki-pu had entered\nhe painted a solid brick wall; twice over he painted it, making it two\nbricks thick; brick by brick he painted it, and mortared every brick\nto its place. And when he had quite finished he laughed, and called\n\u201cGood-night, Tiki-pu!\u201d and went home to bed quite happy.\n\nThe next day all the apprentices were wondering what had become of\nTiki-pu; but as the master himself said nothing, and as another boy came\nto act as colour-grinder and brush-washer to the establishment, they\nvery soon forgot all about him.\n\nIn the studio the master used to sit at work with his students all about\nhim, and a mind full of ease and contentment. Now and then he would\nthrow a glance across to the bricked-up doorway of Wio-wani\u2019s palace,\nand laugh to himself, thinking how well he had served out Tiki-pu for\nhis treachery and presumption.\n\nOne day--it was five years after the disappearance of Tiki-pu--he was\ngiving his apprentices a lecture on the glories and the beauties and the\nwonders of Wio-wani\u2019s painting--how nothing for colour could excel,\nor for mystery could equal it. To add point to his eloquence, he stood\nwaving his hands before Wio-wani\u2019s last masterpiece, and all his\nstudents and apprentices sat round him and looked.\n\nSuddenly he stopped at mid-word, and broke off in the full flight of his\neloquence, as he saw something like a hand come and take down the top\nbrick from the face of paint which he had laid over the little door in\nthe palace-wall which Wio-wani had so beautifully painted. In another\nmoment there was no doubt about it; brick by brick the wall was being\npulled down, in spite of its double thickness.\n\nThe lecturer was altogether too dumfounded and terrified to utter\na word. He and all his apprentices stood round and stared while the\ndemolition of the wall proceeded. Before long he recognised Wio-wani\nwith his flowing white beard; it was his handiwork, this pulling down of\nthe wall! He still had a brick in his hand when he stepped through the\nopening that he had made, and close after him stepped Tiki-pu!\n\nTiki-pu was grown tall and strong--he was even handsome; but for all\nthat his old master recognised him, and saw with an envious foreboding\nthat under his arms he carried many rolls and stretchers and portfolios,\nand other belongings of his craft. Clearly Tiki-pu was coming back into\nthe world, and was going to be a great painter.\n\nDown the garden-path came Wio-wani, and Tiki-pu walked after\nhim; Tiki-pu was so tall that his head stood well over Wio-wani\u2019s\nshoulders--old man and young man together made a handsome pair.\n\nHow big Wio-wani grew as he walked down the avenues of his garden and\ninto the foreground of his picture! and how big the brick in his hand!\nand ah, how angry he seemed!\n\nWio-wani came right down to the edge of the picture-frame and held up\nthe brick. \u201cWhat did you do that for?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cI... didn\u2019t!\u201d Tiki-pu\u2019s old master was beginning to reply; and the lie\nwas still rolling on his tongue when the weight of the brick-bat, hurled\nby the stout arm of Wio-wani, felled him. After that he never spoke\nagain. That brick-bat, which he himself had reared, became his own\ntombstone.\n\nJust inside the picture-frame stood Tiki-pu, kissing the wonderful hands\nof Wio-wani, which had taught him all their skill. \u201cGood-bye, Tiki-pu!\u201d\n said Wio-wani, embracing him tenderly. \u201cNow I am sending my second self\ninto the world. When you are tired and want rest come back to me: old\nWio-wani will take you in.\u201d\n\nTiki-pu was sobbing, and the tears were running down his cheeks as he\nstepped out of Wio-wani\u2019s wonderfully painted garden and stood once\nmore upon earth. Turning, he saw the old man walking away along the\npath toward the little door under the palace-wall. At the door Wio-wani\nturned back and waved his hand for the last time. Tiki-pu still stood\nwatching him. Then the door opened and shut, and Wio-wani was gone.\nSoftly as a flower the picture seemed to have folded its leaves over\nhim.\n\nTiki-pu leaned a wet face against the picture and kissed the door in the\npalace-wall which Wio-wani had painted so beautifully. \u201cO Wio-wani, dear\nmaster,\u201d he cried, \u201care you there?\u201d\n\nHe waited, and called again, but no voice answered him.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WAY OF THE WIND\n\n\nWhere the world breaks up into islands among the blue waves of an\neastern sea, in a little house by the seashore, lived Katipah, the only\nchild of poor parents. When they died she was left quite alone and could\nnot find a heart in the world to care for her. She was so poor that no\nman thought of marrying her, and so delicate and small that as a drudge\nshe was worth nothing to anybody.\n\nOnce a month she would go and stand at the shrine gate, and say to the\npeople as they went in to pray, \u201cWill nobody love me?\u201d And the people\nwould turn their heads away quickly and make haste to get past, and in\ntheir hearts would wonder to themselves: \u201cFoolish little Katipah!\nDoes she think that we can spare time to love any one so poor and\nunprofitable as she?\u201d\n\nOn the other days Katipah would go down to the beach, where everybody\nwent who had a kite to fly--for all the men in that country flew kites,\nand all the children,--and there she would fly a kite of her own up\ninto the blue air; and watching the wind carrying it farther and farther\naway, would grow quite happy thinking how a day might come at last when\nshe would really be loved, though her queer little outside made her seem\nso poor and unprofitable.\n\nKatipah\u2019s kite was green, with blue eyes in its square face; and in\none corner it had a very small pursed-up red mouth holding a spray of\npeach-blossom. She had made it herself; and to her it meant the green\nworld, with the blue sky over it when the spring begins to be sweet,\nand there, tucked away in one corner of it, her own little warm mouth\nwaiting and wishing to be kissed: and out of all that wishing and\nwaiting the blossom of hope was springing, never to be let go.\n\nAll round her were hundreds of others flying their kites, and all had\nsome wish or prayer to Fortune. But Katipah\u2019s wish and prayer were only\nthat she might be loved.\n\nThe silver sandhills lay in loops and chains round the curve of the\nblue bay, and all along them flocks of gaily coloured kites hovered and\nfluttered and sprang. And, as they went up into the clear air, the wind\nsighing in the strings was like the crying of a young child. \u201cWahoo!\nwahoo!\u201d every kite seemed to cradle the wailings of an invisible infant\nas it went mounting aloft, spreading its thin apron to the wind.\n\n\u201cWahoo! wahoo!\u201d sang Katipah\u2019s blue-and-green kite, \u201cshall I ever be\nloved by anybody?\u201d And Katipah, keeping fast hold of the string, would\nwatch where it mounted and looked so small, and think that surely some\nday her kite would bring her the only thing she much cared about.\n\nKatipah\u2019s next-door neighbour had everything that her own lonely heart\nmost wished for: not only had she a husband, but a fine baby as well.\nYet she was such a jealous, cross-grained body that she seemed to get\nno happiness out of the fortune Heaven had sent her. Husband and child\nseemed both to have caught the infection of her bitter temper: all day\nand night beating and brawling went on; there seemed no peace in that\nhouse.\n\nBut for all that the woman, whose name was Bimsha, was quite proud of\nbeing a wife and a mother: and in the daytime, when her man was away,\nshe would look over the fence and laugh at Katipah, crying boastfully,\n\u201cDon\u2019t think you will ever have a husband, Katipah: you are too poor and\nunprofitable! Look at me, and be envious!\u201d\n\nThen Katipah would go softly away, and send up her kite by the seashore\ntill she heard a far-off, sweet, babe-like cry as the wind blew through\nthe strings high in air.\n\n\u201cShall I ever be loved by anybody?\u201d thought she, as she jerked at the\ncord; and away the kite flew higher than ever, and the sound of its call\ngrew fainter.\n\nOne morning, in the beginning of the year, Katipah went up on to the\nhill under plum-boughs white with bloom, meaning to gather field-sorrel\nfor her midday meal; and as she stooped with all her hair blowing over\nher face, and her skirts knotting and billowing round her pretty brown\nankles, she felt as if some one had kissed her from behind.\n\n\u201cThat cannot be,\u201d thought Katipah, with her fingers fast upon a stalk\nof field-sorrel; \u201cit is too soon for anything so good to happen.\u201d So she\npicked the sorrel quietly, and put it into her basket. But now, not to\nbe mistaken, arms came round her, and she was kissed.\n\nShe stood up and put her hands into her breast, quite afraid lest her\nlittle heart, which had grown so light, should be caught by a puff of\nwind and blown right away out of her bosom, and over the hill and into\nthe sea, and be drowned.\n\nAnd now her eyes would not let her doubt; there by her side stood a\nhandsome youth, with quick-fluttering, posy-embroidered raiment. His\nlong dark hair was full of white plum-blossoms, as though he had just\npushed his head through the branches above. His hands also were loaded\nwith the same, and they kept sifting out of his long sleeves whenever he\nmoved his arms. Under the hem of his robe Katipah could see that he had\nheron\u2019s wings bound about his ankles.\n\n\u201cHe must be very good,\u201d thought Katipah, \u201cto be so beautiful! and indeed\nhe must be very good to kiss poor me!\u201d\n\n\u201cKatipah,\u201d said the wonderful youth, \u201cthough you do not know me, I\nknow you. It is I who so often helped you to fly your green kite by the\nshore. I have been up there, and have looked into its blue eyes, and\nkissed its little red mouth which held the peach-blossom. It was I who\nmade songs in its strings for your heart to hear. I am the West Wind,\nKatipah--the wind that brings fine weather. \u2018Gamma-gata\u2019 you must call\nme, for it is I who bring back the wings that fly till the winter is\nover. And now I have come down to earth, to fetch you away and make you\nmy wife. Will you come, Katipah?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will come, Gamma-gata!\u201d said Katipah, and she crouched and kissed the\nheron-wings that bound his feet; then she stood up and let herself go\ninto his arms.\n\n\u201cHave you enough courage?\u201d asked the West Wind.\n\n\u201cI do not know,\u201d answered Katipah, \u201cfor I have never tried.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo come with me,\u201d said the Wind, \u201cyou need to have much courage; if you\nhave not, you must wait till you learn it. But none the less for that\nshall you be the wife of Gamma-gata, for I am the gate of the wild\ngeese, as my name says, and my heart is foolish with love of you.\u201d\n Gamma-gata took her up in his arms, and swung with her this way and\nthat, tossing his way through blossom and leaf; and the sunlight became\nan eddy of gold round her, and wind and laughter seemed to become part\nof her being, so that she was all giddy and dazed and glad when at last\nGamma-gata set her down.\n\n\u201cStand still, my little one!\u201d he cried--\u201cstand still while I put on your\nbridal veil for you; then your blushes shall look like a rose-bush\nin snow!\u201d So Katipah stood with her feet in the green sorrel, and\nGamma-gata went up into the plum-tree and shook, till from head to foot\nshe was showered with white blossom.\n\n\u201cHow beautiful you seem to me!\u201d cried Gamma-gata when he returned to\nground.\n\nThen he lifted her once more and set her in the top of a plum-tree, and\ngoing below, cried up to her, \u201cLeap, little Wind-wife, and let me see\nthat you have courage!\u201d\n\nKatipah looked long over the deep space that lay between them, and\ntrembled. Then she fixed her eyes fast upon those of her lover, and\nleapt, for in the laughter of his eyes she had lost all her fear.\n\nHe caught her halfway in air as she fell. \u201cYou are not really brave,\u201d\n said he; \u201cif I had shut my eyes you would not have jumped.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you had shut your eyes just then,\u201d cried Katipah, \u201cI would have died\nfor fear.\u201d\n\nHe set her once more in the treetop, and disappeared from her sight.\n\u201cCome down to me, Katipah!\u201d she heard his voice calling all round her.\n\nClinging fast to the topmost bough, \u201cOh, Gamma-gata,\u201d she cried, \u201clet me\nsee your eyes, and I will come.\u201d\n\nThen with darkened brow he appeared to her again out of his blasts, and\ntook her in his arms and lifted her down a little sadly till her feet\ntouched safe earth. And he blew away the beautiful veil of blossoms with\nwhich he had showered her, while Katipah stood like a shamed child and\nwatched it go, shredding itself to pieces in the spring sunshine.\n\nAnd Gamma-gata, kissing her tenderly, said: \u201cGo home, Katipah, and learn\nto have courage! and when you have learned it I will be faithful and\nwill return to you again. Only remember, however long we may be parted,\nand whatever winds blow ill-fortune up to your door, Gamma-gata will\nwatch over you. For in deed and truth you are the wife of the West Wind\nnow, and truly he loves you, Katipah!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, Gamma-gata!\u201d cried Katipah, \u201ctell the other winds, when they come,\nto blow courage into me, and to blow me back to you; and do not let that\nbe long!\u201d\n\n\u201cI will tell them,\u201d said Gamma-gata; and suddenly he was gone. Katipah\nsaw a drift of white petals borne over the treetops and away to sea,\nand she knew that there went Gamma-gata, the beautiful windy youth who,\nloving her so well, had made her his wife between the showers of the\nplum-blossom and the sunshine, and had promised to return to her as soon\nas she was fit to receive him.\n\nSo Katipah gathered up her field-sorrel, and went away home and ate her\nsolitary midday meal with a mixture of pride and sorrow in her\ntimid little breast. \u201cSome day, when I am grown brave,\u201d she thought,\n\u201cGamma-gata will come back to me; but he will not come yet.\u201d\n\nIn the evening Bimsha looked over the fence and jeered at her. \u201cDo not\nthink, Katipah,\u201d she cried, \u201cthat you will ever get a husband, for all\nyour soft looks! You are too poor and unprofitable.\u201d\n\nKatipah folded her meek little body together like a concertina when\nit shuts, and squatted to earth in great contentment of spirit. \u201cSilly\nBimsha,\u201d said she, \u201cI already have a husband, a fine one! Ever so much\nfiner than yours!\u201d\n\nBimsha turned pale and cold with envy to hear her say that, for she\nfeared that Katipah was too good and simple to tell her an untruth, even\nin mockery. But she put a brave face upon the matter, saying only, \u201cI\nwill believe in that fine husband of yours when I see him!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, you will see him,\u201d answered Katipah, \u201cif you look high enough! But\nhe is far away over your head, Bimsha; and you will not hear him beating\nme at night, for that is not his way!\u201d\n\nAt this soft answer Bimsha went back into her house in a fury, and\nKatipah laughed to herself. Then she sighed, and said, \u201cOh, Gamma-gata,\nreturn to me quickly, lest my word shall seem false to Bimsha, who hates\nme!\u201d\n\nEvery day after this Bimsha thrust her face over the fence to say:\n\u201cKatipah, where is this fine husband of yours? He does not seem to come\nhome often.\u201d\n\nKatipah answered slily; \u201cHe comes home late, when it is dark, and he\ngoes away very early, almost before it is light. It is not necessary for\nhis happiness that he should see _you_.\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly there is a change in Katipah,\u201d thought Bimsha: \u201cshe has\nbecome saucy with her tongue.\u201d But her envious heart would not allow\nher to let matters be. Night and morning she cried to Katipah, \u201cKatipah,\nwhere is your fine husband?\u201d And Katipah laughed at her, thinking to\nherself: \u201cTo begin with, I will not be afraid of anything Bimsha may\nsay. Let Gamma-gata know that!\u201d\n\nAnd now every day she looked up into the sky to see what wind was\nblowing; but east, or north, or south, it was never the one wind that\nshe looked for. The east wind came from the sea, bringing rain, and\nbeat upon Katipah\u2019s door at night. Then Katipah would rise and open, and\nstanding in the downpour, would cry, \u201cEast wind, east wind, go and tell\nyour brother Gamma-gata that I am not afraid of you any more than I am\nof Bimsha!\u201d\n\nOne night the east wind, when she said that, pulled a tile off Bimsha\u2019s\nhouse, and threw it at her; and Katipah ran in and hid behind the door\nin a great hurry. After that she had less to say when the east wind came\nand blew under her gable and rattled at her door. \u201cOh, Gamma-gata,\u201d she\nsighed, \u201cif I might only set eyes on you, I would fear nothing at all!\u201d\n\nWhen the weather grew fine again Katipah returned to the shore and\nflew her kite as she had always done before the love of Gamma-gata had\nentered her heart. Now and then, as she did so, the wind would change\nsoftly, and begin blowing from the west. Then little Katipah would pull\nlovingly at the string, and cry, \u201cOh, Gamma-gata, have you got fast hold\nof it up there?\u201d\n\nOne day after dusk, when she, the last of all the flyers, hauled down\nher kite to earth, there she found a heron\u2019s feather fastened among the\nstrings. Katipah knew who had sent that, and kissed it a thousand times\nover; nor did she mind for many days afterwards what Bimsha might say,\nbecause the heron\u2019s feather lay so close to her heart, warming it with\nthe hope of Gamma-gata\u2019s return.\n\nBut as weeks and months passed on, and Bimsha still did not fail to say\neach morning, \u201cKatipah, where is your fine husband to-day?\u201d the timid\nheart grew faint with waiting. \u201cAlas!\u201d thought Katipah, \u201cif Heaven\nwould only send me a child, I would show it to her; she would believe\nme easily then! However tiny, it would be big enough to convince her.\nGamma-gata, it is a very little thing that I ask!\u201d\n\nAnd now every day and all day long she sent up her kite from the\nseashore, praying that a child might be born to her and convince Bimsha\nof the truth. Every one said: \u201cKatipah is mad about kite-flying! See\nhow early she goes and how late she stays: hardly any weather keeps her\nindoors.\u201d\n\nOne day the west wind came full-breathed over land and sea, and Katipah\nwas among the first on the beach to send up her messenger with word to\nGamma-gata of the thing for which she prayed. \u201cGamma-gata,\u201d she sighed,\n\u201cthe voice of Bimsha afflicts me daily; my heart is bruised by the\nmockery she casts at me. Did I not love thee under the plum-tree,\nGamma-gata? Ask of Heaven, therefore, that a child may be born to\nme--ever so small let it be--and Bimsha will become dumb. Gamma-gata, it\nis a very little thing that I am asking!\u201d\n\nAll day long she let her kite go farther up into the sky than all the\nother kites. Overhead the wind sang in their strings like bees, or like\nthe thin cry of very small children; but Katipah\u2019s was so far away she\ncould scarcely see it against the blue. \u201cGamma-gata,\u201d she cried; till\nthe twilight drew sea and land together, and she was left alone.\n\nThen she called down her kite sadly; hand over hand she drew it by\nthe cord, till she saw it fluttering over her head like a great moth\nsearching for a flower in the gloom. \u201cWahoo! wahoo!\u201d she could hear the\nwind crying through its strings like the wailing of a very small child.\n\nIt had become so dark that Katipah hardly knew what the kite had brought\nher till she touched the tiny warm limbs that lay cradled among the\nstrings that netted the frame to its cord. Full of wonder and delight,\nshe lifted the windling out of its nest, and laid it in her bosom.\nThen she slung her kite across her shoulder, and ran home, laughing and\ncrying for joy and triumph to think that all Bimsha\u2019s mockery must now\nbe at an end. So, quite early the next morning, Katipah sat herself down\nvery demurely in the doorway, with her child hidden in the folds of her\ngown, and waited for Bimsha\u2019s evil eye to look out upon her happiness.\n\nShe had not long to wait. Bimsha came out of her door, and looking\nacross to Katipah, cried, \u201cWell, Katipah, and where is your fine husband\nto-day?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy husband is gone out,\u201d said Katipah, \u201cbut if you care to look you can\nsee my baby. It is ever so much more beautiful than yours.\u201d\n\nBimsha, when she heard that, turned green and yellow with envy; and\nthere, plain to see, was Katipah holding up to view the most beautiful\nbabe that ever gave the sunlight a good excuse for visiting this wicked\nearth. The mere sight of so much innocent beauty and happiness gave\nBimsha a shock from which it took her three weeks to recover. After that\nshe would sit at her window and for pure envy keep watch to see Katipah\nand the child playing together--the child which was so much more\nbeautiful and well-behaved than her own.\n\nAs for Katipah, she was so happy now that the sorrow of waiting for her\nhusband\u2019s return grew small. Day by day the west wind blew softly,\nand she knew that Gamma-gata was there, keeping watch over her and her\nchild.\n\nEvery day she would say to the little one, \u201cCome, my plum-petal, my\nwind-flower, I will send thee up to thy father that he may see how fat\nthou art getting, and be proud of thee!\u201d And going down to the shore,\nshe would lay the child among the strings of her kite and send it up to\nwhere Gamma-gata blew a wide breath over sea and land. As it went she\nwould hear the child crow with joy at being so uplifted from earth,\nand laughing to herself, she would think, \u201cWhen he sees his child so\npatterned after his own heart, Gamma-gata will be too proud to remain\nlong away from me.\u201d\n\nWhen she drew the child back to her out of the sky, she covered it with\ncaresses, crying, \u201cOh, my wind-blown one, my cloudlet, my sky-blossom,\nmy little piece out of heaven, hast thou seen thy father, and has he\ntold thee that he loves me?\u201d And the child would crow with mysterious\ndelight, being too young to tell anything it knew in words.\n\nBimsha, out of her window, watched and saw all this, not comprehending\nit: and in her evil heart a wish grew up that she might by some means\nput an end to all Katipah\u2019s happiness. So one day towards evening, when\nKatipah, alone upon the shore, had let her kite and her little one go\nup to the fleecy edges of a cloud through which the golden sunlight\nwas streaming, Bimsha came softly behind and with a sharp knife cut the\nstring by which alone the kite was held from falling.\n\n\u201cOh, silly Bimsha!\u201d cried Katipah, \u201cwhat have you done that for?\u201d\n\nUp in air the kite made a far plunge forward, fluttered and stumbled\nin its course, and came shooting headlong to earth. \u201cOh dear!\u201d cried\nKatipah, \u201cit my beautiful little kite gets torn, Bimsha, that will be\nyour fault!\u201d\n\nWhen the kite fell, it lay unhurt on one of the soft sandhills that\nringed the bay; but no sign of the child was to be seen. Katipah was\nlaughing when she picked up her kite and ran home. And Bimsha thought,\n\u201cIs it witchcraft, or did the child fall into the sea?\u201d\n\nIn the night the West Wind came and tapped at Katipah\u2019s window; and\nrising from her bed, she heard Gamma-gata\u2019s voice calling tenderly to\nher. When she opened the window to the blindness of the black night, he\nkissed her, and putting the little one in her arms, said, \u201cWait only a\nlittle while longer, Katipah, and I will come again to you. Already you\nare learning to be brave.\u201d\n\nIn the morning Bimsha looked out, and there sat Katipah in her own\ndoorway, with the child safe and sound in her arms. And, plain to see,\nhe had on a beautiful golden coat, and little silver wings were fastened\nto his feet, and his head was garnished with a wreath of flowers the\nlike of which were never seen on earth. He was like a child of noble\nbirth and fortune, and the small motherly face of Katipah shone with\npride and happiness as she nursed him.\n\n\u201cWhere did you steal those things?\u201d asked Bimsha, \u201cand how did that\nchild come back? I thought he had fallen into the sea and been drowned.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d answered Katipah slily, \u201che was up in the clouds when the kite\nleft him, and he came down with the rain last night. It is nothing\nwonderful. You were foolish, Bimsha, if you thought that to fall into\nthe clouds would do the child any harm. Up there you can have no idea\nhow beautiful it is--such fields of gold, such wonderful gardens, such\nflowers and fruits: it is from there that all the beauty and wealth of\nthe world must come. See all that he has brought with him! and it is all\nyour doing, because you cut the cord of the kite. Oh, clever Bimsha!\u201d\n\nAs soon as Bimsha heard that, she ran and got a big kite, and fastening\nher own child into the strings, started it to fly. \u201cDo not think,\u201d\n cried the envious woman, \u201cthat you are the only one whose child is to\nbe clothed in gold! My child is as good as yours any day; wait, and you\nshall see!\u201d\n\nSo presently, when the kite was well up into the clouds, as Katipah\u2019s\nkite had been, she cut the cord, thinking surely that the same fortune\nwould be for her as had been for Katipah. But instead of that, all at\nonce the kite fell headlong to earth, child and all; and when she ran to\npick him up, Bimsha found that her son\u2019s life had fallen forfeit to her\nown enviousness and folly.\n\nThe wicked woman went green and purple with jealousy and rage; and\nrunning to the chief magistrate, she told him that while she was flying\na kite with her child fastened to its back, Katipah had come and had cut\nthe string, so that by her doing the child was now dead.\n\nWhen the magistrate heard that, he sent and caused Katipah to be thrown\ninto prison, and told her that the next day she should certainly be put\nto death.\n\nKatipah went meekly, carrying her little son in one hand and her\nblue-and-green kite in the other, for that had become so dear to her she\ncould not now part from it. And all the way to prison Bimsha followed,\nmocking her, and asking, \u201cTell us, Katipah, where is your fine husband\nnow?\u201d\n\nIn the night the West Wind came and tapped at the prison window, and\ncalled tenderly, \u201cKatipah, Katipah, are you there?\u201d And when Katipah got\nup from her bed of straw and looked out, there was Gamma-gata once more,\nthe beautiful youth whom she loved and had been wedded to, and had heard\nbut had not seen since.\n\nGamma-gata reached his hands through the bars and put them round her\nface. \u201cKatipah,\u201d he said, \u201cyou have become brave: you are fit now to\nbecome the wife of the West Wind. To-morrow you shall travel with me all\nover the world; you shall not stay in one land any more. Now give me our\nson; for a little while I must take him from you. To prove your courage\nyou must find your own way out of this trouble which you have got into\nthrough making a fool of Bimsha.\u201d\n\nSo Katipah gave him the child through the bars of her prison window, and\nwhen he was gone lay down and slept till it became light.\n\nIn the morning the chief magistrate and Bimsha, together with the whole\npopulace, came to Katipah\u2019s cell to see her led out to death. And when\nit was found that her child had disappeared, \u201cShe is a witch!\u201d they\ncried; \u201cshe has eaten it!\u201d And the chief magistrate said that, being a\nwitch, instead of hanging she was to be burned.\n\n\u201cI have not eaten my child, and I am no witch,\u201d said Katipah, as,\ntaking with her her blue-and-green kite she trotted out to the place of\nexecution. When she was come to the appointed spot she said to the chief\nmagistrate, \u201cTo every criminal it is permitted to plead in defence of\nhimself; but because I am innocent, am I not also allowed to plead?\u201d The\nmagistrate told her she might speak if she had anything to say.\n\n\u201cAll I ask,\u201d said Katipah, \u201cis that I may be allowed once more to fly my\nblue-and-green kite as I used to do in the days when I was happy; and I\nwill show you soon that I am not guilty of what is laid to my charge. It\nis a very little thing that I ask.\u201d\n\nSo the magistrate gave her leave; and there before all the people she\nsent up her kite till it flew high over the roofs of the town.\nGently the West Wind took it and blew it away towards the sea. \u201cOh,\nGamma-gata,\u201d she whispered softly, \u201chear me now, for I am not afraid.\u201d\n\nThe wind blew hard upon the kite, and pulled as though to catch it away,\nso Katipah twisted the cord once or twice round her waist that she might\nkeep the safer hold over it. Then she said to the chief magistrate and\nto all the people that were assembled: \u201cI am innocent of all that is\ncharged against me; for, first, it was that wicked Bimsha herself who\nkilled her own child.\u201d\n\n\u201cProve it!\u201d cried the magistrate.\n\n\u201cI cannot,\u201d replied Katipah.\n\n\u201cThen you must die!\u201d said the magistrate.\n\n\u201cIn the second place,\u201d went on Katipah, \u201cI did not eat my own child.\u201d\n\n\u201cProve it!\u201d cried the chief magistrate again.\n\n\u201cI will,\u201d said Katipah; \u201cO Gamma-gata, it is a very little thing that I\nask.\u201d\n\nDown the string of the kite, first a mere speck against the sky, then\nlarger till plain for all to see came the missing one, slithering and\nsliding, with his golden coat, and the little silver wings tied to his\nankles, and handfuls of flowers which he threw into his mother\u2019s face as\nhe came. \u201cOh! cruel chief magistrate,\u201d cried Katipah, receiving the babe\nin her arms, \u201cdoes it seem that I have eaten him?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are a witch!\u201d said the chief magistrate, \u201cor how do you come to\nhave a child that disappears and comes again from nowhere! It is not\npossible to permit such things to be: you and your child shall both be\nburned together!\u201d\n\nKatipah drew softly upon the kite-string. \u201cOh, Gamma-gata,\u201d she cried,\n\u201clift me up now very high, and I will not be afraid!\u201d\n\nThen suddenly, before all eyes, Katipah was lifted up by the cord of the\nkite which she had wound about her waist; right up from the earth she\nwas lifted till her feet rested above the heads of the people.\n\nKatipah, with her babe in her arms, swung softly through the air, out of\nreach of the hands stretched up to catch her, and addressed the populace\nin these words:\n\n\u201cOh, cruel people, who will not believe innocence when it speaks, you\nmust believe me now! I am the wife of the West Wind--of Gamma-gata, the\nbeautiful, the bearer of fine weather, who also brings back the wings\nthat fly till the winter is over. Is it well, do you think, to be at war\nwith the West Wind?\n\n\u201cAh, foolish ones, I go now, for Gamma-gata calls me, and I am no longer\nafraid: I go to travel in many lands, whither he carries me, and it will\nbe long before I return here. Many dark days are coming to you, when you\nshall not feel the west wind, the bearer of fine weather, blowing over\nyou from land to sea; nor shall you see the blossoms open white over the\nhills, nor feel the earth grow warm as the summer comes in, because the\nbringer of fair weather is angry with you for the foolishness which you\nhave done. But when at last the west wind returns to you, remember that\nKatipah, the poor and unprofitable one, is Gamma-gata\u2019s wife, and that\nshe has remembered, and has prayed for you.\u201d\n\nAnd so saying, Katipah threw open her arms and let go the cord of the\nkite which held her safe. \u201cOh, Gamma-gata,\u201d she cried, \u201cI do not see\nyour eyes, but I am not afraid!\u201d And at that, even while she seemed upon\nthe point of falling to destruction, there flashed into sight a fair\nyouth with dark hair and garments full of a storm of flying petals, who,\ncatching up Katipah and her child in his arms, laughed scorn upon those\nbelow, and roaring over the roofs of the town, vanished away seawards.\n\nWhen a chief magistrate and his people, after flagrant wrong-doing,\nbecome thoroughly cowed and frightened, they are apt also to be cruel.\nPoor Bimsha!\n\n\n\n\nA CAPFUL OF MOONSHINE\n\n\nOn the top of Drundle Head, away to the right side, where the track\ncrossed, it was known that the fairies still came and danced by night.\nBut though Toonie went that way every evening on his road home from\nwork, never once had he been able to spy them.\n\nSo one day he said to the old faggot-maker, \u201cHow is it that one gets to\nsee a fairy?\u201d The old man answered, \u201cThere are some to whom it comes by\nnature; but for others three things are needed--a handful of courage,\na mouthful of silence, and a capful of moonshine. But if you would be\ntrying it, take care that you don\u2019t go wrong more than twice; for with\nthe third time you will fall into the hands of the fairies and be their\nbondsman. But if you manage to see the fairies, you may ask whatever you\nlike of them.\u201d\n\nToonie believed in himself so much that the very next night he took his\ncourage in both hands, filled his cap with moon-shine, shut his mouth,\nand set out. Just after he had started he passed, as he thought, a\npriest riding by on a mule. \u201cGood evening to you, Toonie,\u201d called the\npriest.\n\n\u201cGood evening, your reverence,\u201d cried Toonie, and flourished off his\ncap, so that out fell his capful of moonshine. And though he went on all\nthe way up over the top of Drundle Head, never a fairy did he spy; for\nhe forgot that, in passing what he supposed to be the priest, he had let\ngo both his mouthful of silence and his capful of moonshine.\n\nThe next night, when he was coming to the ascent of the hill, he saw a\nlittle elderly man wandering uncertainly over the ground ahead of him;\nand he too seemed to have his hands full of courage and his cap full of\nmoonshine. As Toonie drew near, the other turned about and said to him,\n\u201cCan you tell me, neighbour, if this be the way to the fairies?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, you fool,\u201d cried Toonie, \u201ca moment ago it was! But now you have\ngone and let go your mouthful of silence!\u201d\n\n\u201cTo be sure, to be sure--so I have!\u201d answered the old man sadly; and\nturning about, he disappeared among the bushes.\n\nAs for Toonie, he went on right over the top of Drundle Head, keeping\nhis eyes well to the right; but never a fairy did he see. For he too had\non the way let go his mouthful of silence.\n\nToonie, when his second failure came home to him, was quite vexed with\nhimself for his folly and mismanagement. So that it should not happen\nagain, he got his wife to tie on his cap of moonshine so firmly that it\ncould not come off, and to gag up his mouth so that no word could come\nout of it. And once more taking his courage in both hands, he set out.\n\nFor a long way he went and nothing happened, so he was in good hopes of\ngetting the desire of his eyes before the night was over; and, clenching\nhis fists tight upon his courage, he pressed on.\n\nHe had nearly reached to the top of Drundle Head, when up from the\nground sprang the same little elderly man of the evening before, and\nbegan beating him across the face with a hazel wand. And at that Toonie\nthrew up both hands and let go his courage, and turned and tried to run\ndown the hill.\n\nWhen her husband did not return, Toonie\u2019s wife became a kind of a\nwidow. People were very kind to her, and told her that Toonie was not\ndead--that he had only fallen into the hands of the good-folk; but all\nday long she sat and cried, \u201cI fastened on his cap of moonshine, and I\ntied up his tongue; and for all that he has gone away and left me!\u201d And\nso she cried until her child was born and named Little Toonie in memory\nof his lost father.\n\nAfter a while people, looking at him, began to shake their heads; for as\nhe grew older it became apparent that his tongue was tied, seeing that\nhe remained quite dumb in spite of all that was done to teach him; and\nhis head was full of moonshine, so that he could understand nothing\nclearly by day--only as night came on his wits gathered, and he seemed\nto find a meaning for things. And some said it was his mother\u2019s fault,\nand some that it was his father\u2019s, and some that he was a changeling\nsent by the fairies, and that the real child had been taken to share\nhis father\u2019s bondage. But which of these things was true Little Toonie\nhimself had no idea.\n\nAfter a time Little Toonie began to grow big, as is the way with\nchildren, and at last he became bigger than ever old Toonie had been.\nBut folk still called him Little Toonie, because his head was so full\nof moonshine; and his mother, finding he was no good to her, sold him\nto the farmer, by whom, since he had no wits for anything better, he was\nset to pull at waggon and plough just as if he were a cart-horse; and,\nindeed, he was almost as strong as one. To make him work, carter and\nploughman used to crack their whips over his back; and Little Toonie\ntook it as the most natural thing in the world, because his brain was\nfull of moonshine, so that he understood nothing clearly by day.\n\nBut at night he would lie in his stable among the horses, and wonder\nabout the moonlight that stretched wide over all the world and lay free\non the bare tops of the hills; and he thought--would it not be good to\nbe there all alone, with the moonbeams laying their white hands down on\nhis head? And so it came that one night, finding the door of his stable\nunlocked, he ran out into the open world a free man.\n\nA soft wind breathed at large, and swung slowly in the black-silver\ntreetops. Over them Little Toonie could see the quiet slopes of Drundle\nHead, asleep in the moonlight.\n\nBefore long, following the lead of his eyes, he had come to the bottom\nof the ascent. There before him went walking a little shrivelled elderly\nman, looking to right and left as if uncertain of the road.\n\nAs Little Toonie drew near, the other one turned and spoke. \u201cCan you\ntell me,\u201d said he, \u201cif this be the way to the fairies?\u201d\n\nLittle Toonie had no tongue to give an answer; so, looking at his\nquestioner, he wagged his head and went on.\n\nQuickening his pace, the old man came alongside and began peering; then\nhe smiled to himself, and after a bit spoke out. \u201cSo you have lost your\ncap, neighbour? Then you will never be able to find the fairies.\u201d For\nhe did not know that Little Toonie, who wore no cap on his head, carried\nhis capful of moonshine safe underneath his skull, where it had been\nsince the hour of his birth.\n\nThe little elderly man slipped from his side, disappearing suddenly\namong the bushes, and Toonie went on alone. So presently he was more\nthan halfway up the ascent, and could see along the foot-track of the\nthicket the silver moonlight lying out over the open ahead.\n\nHe had nearly reached to the top of the hill, when up from the ground\nsprang the little elderly man, and began beating him across the face\nwith a hazel wand. Toonie thought surely this must be some carter or\nploughman beating him to make him go faster; so he made haste to get on\nand be rid of the blows.\n\nThen, all of a sudden, the little elderly man threw away his hazel\nstick, and fell down, clutching at Little Toonie\u2019s ankles, whining and\npraying him not to go on.\n\n\u201cNow that I have failed to keep you from coming,\u201d he cried, \u201cmy masters\nwill put me to death for it! I am a dead man, I tell you, if you go\nanother step!\u201d\n\nToonie could not understand what the old fellow meant, and he could not\nspeak to him. But the poor creature clung to his feet, holding them to\nprevent him from taking another step; so Toonie just stooped down,\nand (for he was so little and light) picked him up by the scruff, and\ncarried him by his waistband, so that his arms and legs trailed together\nalong the ground.\n\nIn the open moonlight ahead little people were all agog; bright dewdrops\nwere shivering down like rain, where flying feet alighted--shot from\nbent grass-blades like arrows from a drawn bow. Tight, panting little\nbodies, of which one could count the ribs, and faces flushed with fiery\ngreen blood, sprang everywhere. But at Toonie\u2019s coming one cried up\nshriller than a bat; and at once rippling burrows went this way and that\nin the long grass, and stillness followed after.\n\nThe poor, dangling old man, whom Toonie was still carrying, wriggled and\nwhined miserably, crying, \u201cCome back, masters, for it is no use--this\none sees you! He has got past me and all my poor skill to stop him. Set\nme free, for you see I am too old to keep the door for you any longer!\u201d\n\nOut buzzed the fairies, hot and angry as a swarm of bees. They came\nand fastened upon the unhappy old man, and began pulling him. \u201cTo the\nant-hills!\u201d they cried; \u201coff with him to the ant-hills!\u201d But when they\nfound that Toonie still held him, quickly they all let go.\n\nOne fairy, standing out from the rest, pulled off his cap and bowed low.\n\u201cWhat is your will, master mortal?\u201d he inquired; \u201cfor until you have\ntaken your wish and gone, we are all slaves at your bidding.\u201d\n\nThey all cringed round him, the cruel little people; but he answered\nnothing. The moonbeams came thick, laying their slender white palms\ngraciously upon Toonie\u2019s head; and he, looking up, opened his mouth for\na laugh that gave no sound.\n\n\u201cAh, so! That is why--he is a mute!\u201d cried the fairies.\n\nQuickly one dipped his cap along the grass and brought it filled with\ndew. He sprang up, and poured it upon Toonie\u2019s tongue; and as the fairy\ndew touched it, \u201cNow speak!\u201d they all cried in chorus, and fawned and\ncringed, waiting for him to give them the word.\n\nCudgelling his brain for what it all meant, he said, \u201cTell me first what\nwish I may have.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhatever you like to ask,\u201d said they, \u201cfor you have become one of our\nfree men. Tell us your name?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am called Little Toonie,\u201d said he, \u201cthe son of old Toonie that was\nlost.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, as I live and remember,\u201d cried the little elderly man, \u201cold Toonie\nwas me!\u201d Then he threw himself grovelling at his son\u2019s feet, and began\ncrying: \u201cOh, be quick and take me away! Make them give me up to you: ask\nto have me! I am your poor, loving old father whom you never saw; all\nthese years have I been looking and longing for you! Now take me away,\nfor they are a proud, cruel people, as spiteful as they are small; and\nmy back has been broken twenty years in their bondage.\u201d\n\nThe fairies began to look blue, for they hate nothing so much as to give\nup one whom they have once held captive. \u201cWe can give you gold,\u201d said\nthey, \u201cor precious stones, or the root of long living, or the waters of\nhappiness, or the sap of youth, or the seed of plenty, or the blossom of\nbeauty. Choose any of these, and we can give it you.\u201d\n\nThe old man again caught hold of his son\u2019s feet. \u201cDon\u2019t choose these,\u201d\n he whimpered, \u201cchoose me!\u201d\n\nSo because he had a capful of moonshine in his head, and because the\nmoonbeams were laying their white hands on his hair, he chose the weak,\nshrivelled old man, who crouched and clung to him, imploring not to be\nlet go.\n\nThe fairies, for spite and anger, bestowed every one a parting pinch\non their tumble-down old bondsman; then they handed him to his son, and\nswung back with careless light hearts to their revels.\n\nAs father and son went down the hill together, the old man whistled and\npiped like a bird. \u201cWhy, why!\u201d he said, \u201cyou are a lad of strength and\ninches: with you to work and look after me, I can keep on to a merry old\nage! Ay, ay, I have had long to wait for it; but wisdom is justified in\nher children.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nTHE MOON-STROKE\n\n\n\nIn the hollow heart of an old tree a Jackdaw and his wife had made\nthemselves a nest. As soon as the mother of his eggs had finished\nlaying, she sat waiting patiently for something to come of it. One by\none five mouths poked out of the shells, demanding to be fed; so for\nweeks the happy couple had to be continually in two places at once\nsearching for food to satisfy them.\n\nPresently the wings of the young ones grew strong; they could begin to\nfly about; and the parents found time for a return to pleasuring and\ncuriosity-hunting. They began gathering in a wise assortment of broken\nglass and chips of platter to grace the corners of their dwelling. All\nbut the youngest Jackdaw were enchanted with their unutterable beauty\nand value; they were never tired of quarrelling over the possession and\narrangement of them.\n\n\u201cBut what are they for?\u201d asked the youngest, a perverse bird who\ngrouped himself apart from the rest, and took no share in their daily\nsquabblings.\n\nThe mother-bird said: \u201cThey are beautiful, and what God intended for us:\ntherefore they must be true. We may not see the use of them yet, but no\ndoubt some day they will come true.\u201d\n\nThe little Jackdaw said: \u201cTheir corners scratch me when I want to go to\nsleep; they are far worse than crumbs in the bed. All the other birds do\nwithout them--why should not we?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is what distinguishes us from the other birds!\u201d replied the\nJanedaw, and thanked her stars that it was so.\n\n\u201cI wish we could sing!\u201d sighed the littlest young Jackdaw. \u201cBabble,\nbabble!\u201d replied his mother angrily.\n\nAnd then, as it was dinner-time, he forgot his grief as they all said\ngrace, and fell-to.\n\nOne evening the old Jackdaw came home very late, carrying something that\nburned bright and green, like an evening star; all the nest shone where\nhe set it down.\n\n\u201cWhat do you think of that for a discovery?\u201d he said to the Janedaw.\n\n\u201cThink?\u201d she said; \u201cI can\u2019t. Some of it looks good to eat; but that\nfire-patch at the end would burn one\u2019s inside out.\u201d\n\nPresently the Jackdaw family settled itself down to sleep; only the\nyoungest one sat up and watched. Now he had seen something beautiful.\nWas it going to come true? Its light was like the song of the\nnightingale in the leaves overhead: it glowed, and throbbed, and grew\nstrong, flooding the whole place where it lay.\n\nSoon, in the silence, he heard a little wail of grief: \u201cWhy have they\ncarried me away here,\u201d sighed the glow-worm, \u201cout of the tender grass\nthat loves the ground?\u201d\n\nThe littlest Jackdaw listened with all his heart. Now something at last\nwas going to become true, without scratching his legs and making him\nfeel as though crumbs were in his bed.\n\nA little winged thing came flying down to the green light, and two\nvoices began crying together--the glow-worm and its mate.\n\n\u201cThey have carried you away?\u201d\n\n\u201cThey have carried me away; up here I shall die!\u201d\n\n\u201cI am too weak to lift you,\u201d said the one with wings; \u201cyou will stay\nhere, and you will die!\u201d Then they cried yet more.\n\n\u201cIt seems to me,\u201d thought the Jackdaw, \u201cthat as soon as the beautiful\nbecomes true, God does not intend it to be for us.\u201d He got up softly\nfrom among his brothers. \u201cI will carry you down,\u201d he said. And without\nmore ado, he picked it up and carried it down out of the nest, and laid\nit in the long grass at the foot of the tree.\n\nOverhead the nightingale sang, and the full moon shone; its rays struck\ndown on the little Jackdaw\u2019s head. For a bird that is not a nightingale\nto wake up and find its head unprotected under the rays of a full moon\nis serious: there and then he became moon-struck. He went back into bed;\nbut he was no longer the same little Jackdaw. \u201cOh, I wish I could sing!\u201d\n he thought; and not for hours could he get to sleep.\n\nIn the morning, when the family woke up, the beautiful and the true was\ngone. The father Jackdaw thought he must have swallowed it in his sleep.\n\n\u201cIf you did,\u201d said his wife \u201cthere\u2019ll be a smell of burnt feathers\nbefore long!\u201d\n\nBut the littlest Jackdaw said, \u201cIt came true, and went away, because it\nwas never intended for us.\u201d\n\nNow some days after this the old Jack-daw again came carrying something\nthat shone like an evening star--a little spike of gold with a burning\nemerald set in the end of it. \u201cAnd what do you think of that?\u201d said he\nto his wife.\n\n\u201cI daren\u2019t come near it,\u201d she answered, \u201cfor fear it should burn me!\u201d\n\nThat night the little Jackdaw lay awake, while all the others slept,\nwaiting to hear the green stone break out into sorrow, and to see if its\nwinged mate would come seeking it. But after hours had gone, and nothing\nstirred or spoke, he slipped softly out of the nest, and went down\nto search for the poor little winged mate who must surely be about\nsomewhere.\n\nAnd now, truly, among the grasses and flowers he heard something sobbing\nand sighing; a little winged thing darted into sight and out again,\nsearching the ground like a dragon-fly at quest. And all the time,\namid the darting and humming of its wings, came sobbing and wringing of\nhands.\n\nThe young Jackdaw called: \u201cLittle wings, what have you lost? Is it not a\nspike with a green light at the end of it?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy wand, my wand!\u201d cried the fairy, beside herself with grief. \u201cJust\nabout sunset I was asleep in an empty wren\u2019s nest, and when I woke up my\nwand was gone!\u201d\n\nThen the little Jackdaw, being moon-struck, and not knowing the value of\nthings, flew up to the nest and brought back the fairy her wand.\n\n\u201cOh!\u201d she cried, \u201cyou have saved my life!\u201d And she thanked the Jackdaw\ntill he grew quite modest and shy.\n\n\u201cWhat is it for? What can you do with it?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cWith this,\u201d she answered, \u201cI can make anything beautiful come true! I\ncan give you whatever you ask; you have but to ask, and you shall have.\u201d\n\nThen the little Jackdaw, being moon-struck, and not knowing the value of\nthings, said, \u201cOh, if I could only sing like a nightingale!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou can!\u201d said the fairy, waving her wand but once; and immediately\nsome-thing like a melodious sneeze flew into his head and set it\nshaking.\n\n\u201cChiou! chiou! True-true-true-true! Jug! jug! Oh, beautiful! beautiful!\u201d\n His beak went dabbling in the sweet sound, rippling it this way and\nthat, spraying it abroad out of his blissful heart as a jewel throws out\nits fires.\n\nThe fairy was gone; but the little Jackdaw sprang up into the high elm,\nand sang on endlessly through the whole night.\n\nAt dawn he stopped, and looking down, there he saw the family getting\nready for breakfast, and wondering what had become of him. Just as they\nwere saying grace he flew in, his little heart beating with joy over his\nnew-found treasure. What a jewel of a voice he had: better than all the\npieces of glass and chips of platter lying down there in the nest! As\nsoon as the parent-birds had finished grace, he lifted his voice and\nthanked God that the thing he had wished for had become true.\n\nNone of them understood what he said, but they paid him plenty of\nattention. All his brothers and sisters put up their heads and giggled,\nas the young do when one of their number misbehaves.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t make that noise!\u201d said his mother; \u201cit\u2019s not decent!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s low!\u201d said the father-bird.\n\nThe littlest young Jackdaw was overwhelmed with astonishment. When he\ntried to explain, his unseemly melodies led to his immediate expulsion\nfrom the family circle. Such noises, he was told, could only be made in\nprivate; when he had quite got over them he might come back,--but not\nuntil.\n\nHe never got over them; so he never came back. For a few days he hid\nhimself in different trees of the garden, and sang the praises of\nsorrow; but his family, though they comprehended him not, recognised his\nnote, and came searching him with beak and claw, and drove him out so as\nnot to have him near them committing such scandalous noises to the ears\nof the public.\n\n\u201cHe lies in his throat!\u201d said the old Jackdaw. \u201cEverything he says he\ngarbles. If he is our son he must have been hatched on the wrong side of\nthe nest!\u201d\n\nAfter that, wherever he went, all the birds jeered at and persecuted\nhim. Even the nightingales would not listen to his brotherly voice. They\nmade fun of his black coat, and called him a Nonconformist without a\nconscience. \u201cAll this has come about,\u201d thought he, \u201cbecause God never\nmeant anything beautiful to come true.\u201d\n\nOne day a man who saw him and heard him singing, caught him, and took\nhim round the world in a cage for show. The value of him was discovered.\nGreat crowds came to see the little Jackdaw, and to hear him sing.\nHe was described now as the \u201cAmphabulous Philomel, or the\nMongrel-Minstrel\u201d; but it gave him no joy.\n\nBefore long he had become what we call tame--that is to say, his wings\nhad been clipped; he was allowed out of his cage, because he could no\nlonger fly away, and he sang when he was told, because he was whipped if\nhe did not.\n\nOne day there was a great crowd round the travelling booth where he was\non view: the showman had a new wonder which he was about to show to the\npeople. He took the little Jackdaw out of his cage, and set him to perch\nupon his shoulder, while he busied himself over something which he was\ntaking carefully out of ever so many boxes and coverings.\n\nThe Jackdaw\u2019s sad eye became attracted by a splendid scarf-pin that the\nshowman wore--a gold pin set with a tiny emerald that burned like fire.\nThe bird thought, \u201cNow if only the beautiful could become true!\u201d\n\nAnd now the showman began holding up a small glass bottle for the crowd\nto stare into. The people were pushing this way and that to see what\nmight be there.\n\nAt the bottom sat the little fairy, without her wand, weeping and\nbeating her hands on the glass.\n\nThe showman was so proud he grew red in the face, and ran shouting up\nand down the plank, shaking and turning the bottle upside down now and\nthen, so as to make the cabined fairy use her wings, and buzz like a fly\nagainst the glass.\n\nThe Jackdaw waggled unsteadily at his perch on the man\u2019s shoulder.\n\u201cLook at him!\u201d laughed some one in the crowd, \u201che\u2019s going to steal his\nmaster\u2019s scarf-pin.\u201d\n\n\u201cHo, ho, ho!\u201d shouted the showman. \u201cSee this bird now! See the\nmarvellous mongrel nature of the beast! Who tells me he\u2019s only a\nnightingale painted black?\u201d\n\nThe people laughed the more at that, for there was a fellow in the crowd\nlooking sheepish. The Jackdaw had drawn out the scarf-pin, and held it\ngravely in its beak, looking sideways with cunning eyes. He was wishing\nhard. All the crowd laughed again.\n\nSuddenly the showman\u2019s hand gave a jerk, the bottle slipped from his\nhold and fell, shivering itself upon the ground.\n\nThere was a buzz of wings--the fairy had escaped.\n\n\u201cThe beautiful is coming true,\u201d thought the Jackdaw, as he yielded to\nthe fairy her wand, and found, suddenly, that his wings were not clipped\nafter all.\n\n\u201cWhat more can I do for you?\u201d asked the fairy, as they flew away\ntogether. \u201cYou gave me back my wand; I have given you back your wings.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will not ask anything,\u201d said the little Jackdaw; \u201cwhat God intends\nwill come true.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet me take you up to the moon,\u201d said the fairy. \u201cAll the Jackdaws up\nthere sing like nightingales.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy is that?\u201d asked the little Jackdaw.\n\n\u201cBecause they are all moon-struck,\u201d she answered.\n\n\u201cAnd what is it to be moon-struck?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cSurely you should know, if any one!\u201d laughed the fairy. \u201cTo see things\nbeautifully, and not as they are. On the moon you will be able to do\nthat without any difficulty.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh,\u201d said the little Jackdaw, \u201cnow I know at last that the beautiful is\ngoing to come true!\u201d\n\n\n\n\nHOW LITTLE DUKE JARL SAVED THE CASTLE\n\nDuke Jarl had found a good roost for himself when his long work of\nexpelling the invader was ended. Seawards and below the town, in the\nmouth of the river, stood a rock, thrusting out like a great tusk ready\nto rip up any armed vessel that sought passage that way. On the top of\nthis he had built himself a castle, and its roots went deep, deep\ndown into the solid stone. No man knew how deep the deepest of the\nfoundations went; but wherever they were, just there was old Duke Jarl\u2019s\nsleeping-chamber. Thither he had gone to sleep when the world no longer\nneeded him; and he had not yet returned.\n\nThat was three hundred years ago, and still the solid rock vaulted the\nold warrior\u2019s slumber; and over his head men talked of him, and told\nhow he was reserving the strength of his old age till his country should\nagain call for him.\n\nThe call seemed to come now; for his descendant, little Duke Jarl the\nNinth, was but a child; and being in no fear of him, the old foe had\nreturned, and the castle stood besieged. Also, farther than the eye\ncould see from the topmost tower, the land lay all overrun, its richness\nlaid waste by armed bands who gathered in its harvest by the sword, and\nthe town itself lay under tribute; from the tower one could see the busy\nquays, and the enemy loading his ships with rich merchandise.\n\nSent up there to play in safety, little Duke Jarl could not keep his red\nhead from peering over the parapet. He began making fierce faces at the\nenemy--he was still too young to fight: and quick a grey goose-shaft\ncame and sang its shrill song at his ear. So close had it gone that a\nlittle of the ducal blood trickled out over his collar. His face worked\nwith rage; leaning far out over the barrier, he began shouting, \u201cI will\ntell Duke Jarl of you!\u201d till an attendant ran up and snatched him away\nfrom danger.\n\nThings were going badly: the castle was cut off from the land, and on\nthe seaward side the foe had built themselves a great mole within which\ntheir war-ships could ride at anchor safe from the reach of storm. Thus\nthere was no way left by which help or provender could come in.\n\nLittle Duke Jarl saw men round him growing more gaunt and thin day by\nday, but he did not understand why till he chanced once upon a soldier\ngnawing a foul bone for the stray bits of meat that clung to it; then\nhe learned that all in the castle except himself had been put upon\nquarter-rations, though every day there was more and more fighting work\nto be done.\n\nSo that day when the usual white bread and savouries were brought to\nhim, he flung them all downstairs, telling the cook that the day he\nreally became Duke he would have his head off if he ever dared to send\nhim anything again but the common fare.\n\nHearing of it, the old Chief Constable picked up little Master Ninth\nDuke between finger and thumb, and laughed, holding him in the air.\n\u201cWith you alive,\u201d said he, \u201cwe shall not have to wake Duke Jarl after\nall!\u201d The little Duke asked when he would let him have a sword; and the\nConstable clapped his cheeks and ran back cheerfully at a call from the\npalisades.\n\nBut others carried heavy looks, thinking, \u201cLong before his fair promise\ncan come to anything our larders will be empty and our walls gone!\u201d\n\nIt was no great time after this that the Duke\u2019s Constable was the only\nman who saw reason in holding out. That became known all through the\ncastle, and the cook, honest fellow, brought up little Jarl\u2019s dinner one\nday with tears in his eyes. He set down his load of dainties. \u201cIt is no\nuse!\u201d said he, \u201cyou may as well eat to-day, since to-morrow we give up\nthe castle.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho dares to say \u2018we\u2019?\u201d cried little Duke Jarl, springing to his feet.\n\n\u201cAll but the Constable,\u201d said the cook; \u201ceven now they are in the\ncouncil-hall, trying to make him see reason. Whether or no, they will\nnot let him hold on.\u201d\n\nLittle Jarl found the doors of the great hall barred to the thunderings\nof his small fist: for, in truth, these men could not bear to look upon\none who had in his veins the blood of old Duke Jarl, when they were\nabout to give up his stronghold to the enemy.\n\nSo little Jarl made his way up to the bowery, where was a minstrel\u2019s\nwindow looking down into the hall. Sticking out his head so that he\nmight see down to where the council was sitting, \u201cIf you give up the\ncastle, I will tell Duke Jarl!\u201d he cried. Hearing his young master\u2019s\nvoice, the Constable raised his eyes; but not able to see him for tears\nin them, called out: \u201cTell him quick, for here it is all against one!\nOnly for one day more have they promised to follow my bidding, and keep\nthe carrion crows from coming to Jarl\u2019s nest.\u201d\n\nAnd even as he spoke came the renewed cry of attack, and the answering\nshout of \u201cJarl, Jarl!\u201d from the defenders upon the walls. Then all leapt\nup, over-turning the council-board, and ran out to the battlements to\ncarry on with what courage was left to them a hopeless contest for one\nmore day.\n\nLittle Duke Jarl remained like a beating heart in the great empty keep.\nHe ran wildly from room to room, calling in rage and desperation on Old\nJarl to return and fight. From roof to basement he ran, commanding the\nspirit of his ancestor to appear, till at last he found himself in the\ndeepest cellars of all. Down there he could hear but faintly the sound\nof the fighting; yet it seemed to him that through the stone he could\nhear the slow booming of the sea, and as he went deeper into the\ncastle\u2019s foundations the louder had grown its note. \u201cDoes the sea come\nin all the way under the castle?\u201d he wondered. \u201cOh that it would sap the\nfoundations and sink castle and all, rather than let them give up old\nJarl\u2019s stronghold to his enemies!\u201d\n\nAll was quite dark here, where the castle stood embedded; but now\nand then little Duke Jarl could feel a puff of wind on his face, and\npresently he was noticing how it came, as if timed to the booming of the\nsea underneath: whenever came the sound of a breaking wave, with it came\na draught of air. He wondered if, so low down, there might not be some\nsecret opening to the shore.\n\nGroping in the direction of the gusts, his feet came upon stairs. So low\nand narrow was the entrance, he had to turn sideways and stoop; but\nwhen he had burrowed through a thickness of wall he was able to stand\nupright; and again he found stairs leading somewhere.\n\nDown, these led down. He had never been so low before. And what a storm\nthere must be outside! Against these walls the thunders of: the sea grew\nso loud he could no longer hear the tramp of his own feet descending.\n\nAnd now the wind came at him in great gusts; first came the great boom\nof the sea, and then a blast of air. The way twisted and circled, making\nhis head giddy for a fall; his feet slipped on the steepness and slime\nof the descent, and at each turn the sound grew more appalling, and the\ndriving force of the wind more and more like the stroke of a man\u2019s fist.\n\nPresently the shock of it threw him from his standing, so that he had to\nlie down and slide feet foremost, clinging with his eyelids and nails\nto break the violence of his descent. And now the air was so full of\nthunder that his teeth shook in their sockets, and his bones jarred in\nhis flesh. The darkness growled and roared; the wind kept lifting him\nbackwards--the force of it seemed almost to flay the skin off: his face;\nand still he went on, throwing his full weight against the air ahead.\n\nThen for a moment he felt himself letting go altogether: solid walls\nslipping harshly past him in the darkness, he fell; and came headlong,\ncrashed and bruised, to a standstill.\n\nAt first his brain was all in a mist; then, raising himself, he saw a\ndim blue light falling through a low vaulted chamber. At the end of it\nsat old Jarl, like adamant in slumber. His head was down on his breast,\nburied in a great burning bush of hair and beard; his hands, gripping\nthe arms of his iron throne, had twisted them like wire; and the weight\nof his feet where they rested had hollowed a socket in the stone floor\nfor them to sink into.\n\nAll his hair and his armour shone with a red-and-blue flame; and the\nlight of him struck the vaulting and the floor like the rays of a torch\nas it burns. Over his head a dark tunnel, bored in the solid rock,\nreached up a hollow throat seawards. But not by that way came the wind\nand the sound of the sea; it was old Jarl himself, breathing peacefully\nin his sleep, waiting for the hour which should call his strength to\nlife.\n\nYoung Duke Jarl ran swiftly across the chamber, and struck old Jarl\u2019s\nknees, crying, \u201cWake, Jarl! or the castle will be taken!\u201d But the\nsleeper did not stir. Then he climbed the iron bars of the Duke\u2019s chair,\nand reaching high, caught hold of the red beard. \u201cForefather!\u201d he cried,\n\u201cwake, or the castle will be betrayed!\u201d\n\nBut still old Duke Jarl snored a drowsy hurricane. Then little Jarl\nsprang upon his knee, and seizing him by the head, pulled to move its\ndead weight, and finding he could not, struck him full on the mouth,\ncrying, \u201cJarl, Jarl, old thunderbolt! wake, or you will betray the\ncastle!\u201d\n\nAt that old Jarl hitched himself in his seat, and \u201cHumph!\u201d cried he,\ndrawing in a deep breath.\n\nIn rushed the wind whistling from the sea, and down it rushed whistling\nfrom the way by which little Jarl had come; like the wings of cranes\nflying homewards in spring, so it whistled when old Jarl drew in his\nbreath.\n\nOff his knee dropped little Ninth Jarl, buffeted speechless to earth.\nAnd old Jarl, letting go one breath, settled himself back to slumber.\n\nFar up overhead, at the darkening-in of night, the besiegers saw the\neyes of the castle flash red for an instant, and shut again; then they\nheard the castle-rock bray out like a great trumpet, and they trembled,\ncrying, \u201cThat is old Jarl\u2019s warhorn; he is awake out of slumber!\u201d\n\nThey had reason enough to fear; for suddenly upon their ships-of-war\nthere crashed, as though out of the bowels of the earth, a black wind\nand sandblast; and coming, it took the reefed sails and rigging, and\nsnapped the masts and broke every vessel from its moorings, and drove\nall to wreck and ruin against the great mole that had been built to\nshelter them.\n\nAnd away inland, beyond the palisades and under the entrenched camp of\nthe besiegers, the ground pitched and rocked, so that every tent fell\ngrovelling; and whenever the ground gaped, captains and men-at-arms were\nswallowed down in detachments.\n\nHardly had the call of old Jarl\u2019s war-horn ceased, before the Constable\ncommanded the castle gates to be thrown open, and out he came leading\na gaunt and hungry band of Jarl-folk warriors; for over in the enemy\u2019s\ncamp they had scent of a hot supper which must be cooked and eaten\nbefore dawn. And in a little while, when the cooking was at its height,\nyoung Duke Jarl stuck his red head out over the battlements, and\nlaughed.\n\nSo this has told how old Duke Jarl once turned and talked in his sleep;\nbut to tell of the real awakening of old Jarl would be quite another\nstory.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WHITE DOE\n\nOne day, as the king\u2019s huntsman was riding in the forest, he came to a\nsmall pool. Fallen leaves covering its surface had given it the colour\nof blood, and knee-deep in their midst stood a milk-white doe drinking.\n\nThe beauty of the doe set fire to the huntsman\u2019s soul; he took an arrow\nand aimed well at the wild heart of the creature. But as he was loosing\nthe string the branch of a tree overhanging the pool struck him across\nthe face, and caught hold of him by the hair; and arrow and doe vanished\naway together into the depths of the forest.\n\nNever until now, since he entered the king\u2019s service, had the huntsman\nmissed his aim. The thought of the white doe living after he had willed\nits death inflamed him with rage; he could not rest till he had brought\nhounds on the trail, determined to follow until it had surrendered to\nhim its life.\n\nAll day, while he hunted, the woods stayed breathless, as if to watch;\nnot a blade moved, not a leaf fell. About noon a red deer crossed his\npath; but he paid no heed, keeping his hounds only to the white doe\u2019s\ntrail.\n\nAt sunset a fallow deer came to disturb the scent, and through the\ntwilight, as it deepened, a grey wolf ran in and out of the underwood.\nWhen night came down, his hounds fled from his call, following through\ntangled thickets a huge black boar with crescent tusks. So he found\nhimself alone, with his horse so weary that it could scarcely move.\n\nBut still, though the moon was slow in its rising, the fever of the\nchase burned in the huntsman\u2019s veins, and caused him to press on. For\nnow he found himself at the rocky entrance of a ravine whence no way\nled; and the white doe being still before him, he made sure that he\nwould get her at last. So when his horse fell, too tired to rise again,\nhe dismounted and forced his way on; and soon he saw before him the\nwhite doe, labouring up an ascent of sharp crags, while closer and\nhigher the rocks rose and narrowed on every side. Presently she had\nleapt high upon a boulder that shook and swayed as her feet rested, and\nahead the wall of rocks had joined so that there was nowhere farther\nthat she might go.\n\nThen the huntsman notched an arrow, and drew with full strength, and\nlet it go. Fast and straight it went, and the wind screamed in the\nred feathers as they flew; but faster the doe overleapt his aim, and,\nspurning the stone beneath, down the rough-bouldered gully sent it\nthundering, shivering to fragments as it fell. Scarcely might the\nhuntsman escape death as the great mass swept past: but when the danger\nwas over he looked ahead, and saw plainly, where the stone had once\nstood, a narrow opening in the rock, and a clear gleam of moonlight\nbeyond.\n\nThat way he went, and passing through, came upon a green field, as full\nof flowers as a garden, duskily shining now, and with dark shadows in\nall its folds. Round it in a great circle the rocks made a high wall,\nso high that along their crest forest-trees as they clung to look over\nseemed but as low-growing thickets against the sky.\n\nThe huntsman\u2019s feet stumbled in shadow and trod through thick grass into\na quick-flowing streamlet that ran through the narrow way by which he\nhad entered. He threw himself down into its cool bed, and drank till\nhe could drink no more. When he rose he saw, a little way off, a small\ndwelling-house of rough stone, moss-covered and cosy, with a roof of\nwattles which had taken root and pushed small shoots and clusters of\ngrey leaves through their weaving. Nature, and not man, seemed there to\nhave been building herself an abode.\n\nBefore the doorway ran the stream, a track of white mist showing where\nit wound over the meadow; and by its edge a beautiful maiden sat, and\nwas washing her milk-white feet and arms in the wrinkling eddies.\n\nTo the huntsman she became all at once the most beautiful thing that the\nworld contained; all the spirit of the chase seemed to be in her blood,\nand each little movement of her feet made his heart jump for joy. \u201cI\nhave looked for you all my life!\u201d thought he, as he halted and gazed,\nnot daring to speak lest the lovely vision should vanish, and the memory\nof it mock him for ever.\n\nThe beautiful maiden looked up from her washing. \u201cWhy have you come\nhere?\u201d said she.\n\nThe huntsman answered her as he believed to be the truth, \u201cI have come\nbecause I love you!\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d she said, \u201cyou came because you wanted to kill the white doe. If\nyou wish to kill her, it is not likely that you can love me.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not wish to kill the white doe!\u201d cried the huntsman; \u201cI had not\nseen you when I wished that. If you do not believe that I love you,\ntake my bow and shoot me to the heart; for I will never go away from you\nnow.\u201d\n\nAt his word she took one of the arrows, looking curiously at the red\nfeathers, and to test the sharp point she pressed it against her breast.\n\u201cHave a care!\u201d cried the hunter, snatching it back. He drew his breath\nsharply and stared. \u201cIt is strange,\u201d he declared; \u201ca moment ago I almost\nthought that I saw the white doe.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you stay here to-night,\u201d said the maiden, \u201cabout midnight you will\nsee the white doe go by. Take this arrow, and have your bow ready, and\nwatch! And if to-morrow, when I return, the arrow is still unused in\nyour hand, I will believe you when you say that you love me. And you\nhave only to ask, and I will do all that you desire.\u201d\n\nThen she gave the huntsman food and drink and a bed of ferns upon which\nto rest. \u201cSleep or wake,\u201d said she as she parted from him; \u201cif truly you\nhave no wish to kill the white doe, why should you wake? Sleep!\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not wish to kill the white doe,\u201d said the huntsman. Yet he could\nnot sleep: the memory of the one wild creature which had escaped him\nstung his blood. He looked at the arrow which he held ready, and grew\nthirsty at the sight of it. \u201cIf I see, I must shoot!\u201d cried his hunter\u2019s\nheart. \u201cIf I see, I must not shoot!\u201d cried his soul, smitten with love\nfor the beautiful maiden, and remembering her word. \u201cYet, if I see,\nI know I must shoot--so shall I lose all!\u201d he cried as midnight\napproached, and the fever of long waiting remained unassuaged.\n\nThen with a sudden will he drew out his hunting-knife, and scored the\npalms of his two hands so deeply that he could no longer hold his bow\nor draw the arrow upon the string. \u201cOh, fair one, I have kept my word to\nyou!\u201d he cried as midnight came. \u201cThe bow and the arrow are both ready.\u201d\n\nLooking forth from the threshold by which he lay, he saw pale moonlight\nand mist making a white haze together on the outer air. The white doe\nran by, a body of silver; like quicksilver she ran. And the huntsman,\nthe passion to slay rousing his blood, caught up arrow and bow, and\ntried in vain with his maimed hands to notch the shaft upon the string.\n\nThe beautiful creature leapt lightly by, between the curtains of\nmoonbeam and mist; and as she went she sprang this way and that across\nthe narrow streamlet, till the pale shadows hid her altogether from his\nsight. \u201cAh! ah!\u201d cried the huntsman, \u201cI would have given all my life to\nbe able to shoot then! I am the most miserable man alive; but to-morrow\nI will be the happiest. What a thing is love, that it has known how to\nconquer in me even my hunter\u2019s blood!\u201d\n\nIn the morning the beautiful maiden returned; she came sadly. \u201cI gave\nyou my word,\u201d said she: \u201chere I am. If you have the arrow still with you\nas it was last night, I will be your wife, because you have done what\nnever huntsman before was able to do--not to shoot at the white doe when\nit went by.\u201d\n\nThe huntsman showed her the unused arrow; her beauty made him altogether\nhappy. He caught her in his arms, and kissed her till the sun grew high.\nThen she brought food and set it before him; and taking his hand, \u201cI\nam your wife,\u201d said she, \u201cand with all my heart my will is to serve you\nfaithfully. Only, if you value your happiness, do not shoot ever at the\nwhite doe.\u201d Then she saw that there was blood on his hand, and her face\ngrew troubled. She saw how the other hand also was wounded. \u201cHow came\nthis?\u201d she asked; \u201cdear husband, you were not so hurt yesterday.\u201d\n\nAnd the huntsman answered, \u201cI did it for fear lest in the night I should\nfail, and shoot at the white doe when it came.\u201d\n\nHearing that, his wife trembled and grew white. \u201cYou have tricked us\nboth,\u201d she said, \u201cand have not truly mastered your desire. Now, if you\ndo not promise me on your life and your soul, or whatever is dearer,\nnever to shoot at a white doe, sorrow will surely come of it. Promise\nme, and you shall certainly be happy!\u201d\n\nSo the huntsman promised faithfully, saying, \u201cOn your life, which is\ndearer to me than my own, I give you my word to keep that it shall be\nso.\u201d Then she kissed him, and bound up his wounds with healing herbs;\nand to look at her all that day, and for many days after, was better to\nhim than all the hunting the king\u2019s forests could provide.\n\nFor a whole year they lived together in perfect happiness, and two\nchildren came to bless their union--a boy and a girl born at the same\nhour. When they were but a month old, they could run; and to see them\nleaping and playing before the door of their home made the huntsman\u2019s\nheart jump for joy. \u201cThey are forest-born, and they come of a hunter\u2019s\nblood; that is why they run so early, and have such limbs,\u201d said he.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d answered his wife, \u201cthat is partly why. When they grow older they\nwill run so fast--do not mistake them for deer if ever you go hunting.\u201d\n\nNo sooner had she said the word than the memory of it, which had slept\nfor a whole year, stirred his blood. The scent of the forest blew up\nthrough the rocky ravine, which he had never repassed since the day\nwhen he entered, and he laid his hands thoughtfully on the weapons he no\nlonger used.\n\nSuch restlessness took hold of him all that day that at night he slept\nill, and, waking, found himself alone with no wife at his side. Gazing\nabout the room, he saw that the cradle also was empty. \u201cWhy,\u201d he\nwondered, \u201chave they gone out together in the middle of the night?\u201d\n\nYet he gave it little more thought, and turning over, fell into a\ntroubled sleep, and dreamed of hunting and of the white doe that he had\nseen a year before stooping to drink among the red leaves that covered\nthe forest pool.\n\nIn the morning his wife was by his side, and the little ones lay asleep\nupon their crib. \u201cWhere were you,\u201d he asked, \u201clast night? I woke, and\nyou were not here.\u201d\n\nHis wife looked at him tenderly, and sighed. \u201cYou should shut your eyes\nbetter,\u201d said she. \u201cI went out to see the white doe, and the little ones\ncame also. Once a year I see her; it is a thing I must not miss.\u201d\n\nThe beauty of the white doe was like strong drink to his memory: the\nbeautiful limbs that had leapt so fast and escaped--they alone, of all\nthe wild life in the world, had conquered him. \u201cAh!\u201d he cried, \u201clet me\nsee her, too; let her come tame to mv hand, and I will not hurt her!\u201d\n\nHis wife answered: \u201cThe heart of the white doe is too wild a thing; she\ncannot come tame to the hand of any hunter under heaven. Sleep again,\ndear husband, and wake well! For a whole year you have been sufficiently\nhappy; the white doe would only wound you again in your two hands.\u201d\n\nWhen his wife was not by, the hunter took the two children upon his\nknee, and said, \u201cTell me, what was the white doe like? what did she do?\nand what way did she go?\u201d\n\nThe children sprang off his knee, and leapt to and fro over the stream.\n\u201cShe was like this,\u201d they cried, \u201cand she did this, and this was the\nway she went!\u201d At that the hunter drew his hand over his brow. \u201cAh,\u201d he\nsaid, \u201cI seemed then almost to see the white doe.\u201d\n\nLittle peace had he from that day. Whenever his wife was not there he\nwould call the little ones to him, and cry, \u201cShow me the white doe and\nwhat she did.\u201d And the children would leap and spring this way and that\nover the little stream before the door, crying, \u201cShe was like this, and\nshe did this, and this was the way she went!\u201d\n\nThe huntsman loved his wife and children with a deep affection, yet\nhe began to have a dread that there was something hidden from his eyes\nwhich he wished yet feared to know. \u201cTell me,\u201d he cried one day, half\nin wrath, when the fever of the white doe burned more than ever in his\nblood, \u201ctell me where the white doe lives, and why she comes, and when\nnext. For this time I must see her, or I shall die of the longing that\nhas hold of me!\u201d Then, when his wife would give no answer, he seized his\nbow and arrows and rushed out into the forest, which for a whole year\nhad not known him, slaying all the red deer he could find.\n\nMany he slew in his passion, but he brought none of them home, for\nbefore the end a strange discovery came to him, and he stood amazed,\ndropping the haunch which he had cut from his last victim. \u201cIt is a\nwhole year,\u201d he said to himself, \u201cthat I have not tasted meat; I, a\nhunter, who love only the meat that I kill!\u201d\n\nReturning home late, he found his wife troubling her heart over his long\nabsence. \u201cWhere have you been?\u201d she asked him, and the question inflamed\nhim into a fresh passion.\n\n\u201cI have been out hunting for the white doe,\u201d he cried; \u201cand she carries\na spot in her side where some day my arrow must enter. If I do not find\nher I shall die!\u201d\n\nHis wife looked at him long and sorrowfully; then she said: \u201cOn your\nlife and soul be it, and on mine also, that your anger makes me tell\nwhat I would have kept hidden. It is to-night that she comes. Now it\nremains for you to remember your word once given to me!\u201d\n\n\u201cGive it back to me!\u201d he cried; \u201cit is my fate to finish the quest of\nthe white doe.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf I give it,\u201d said she, \u201cyour happiness goes with it, and mine, and\nthat of our children.\u201d\n\n\u201cGive it back to me!\u201d he said again; \u201cI cannot live unless I may master\nthe white doe! If she will come tame to my hand, no harm shall happen to\nher.\u201d\n\nAnd when she denied him again, he gave her his bow and arrows, and bade\nher shoot him to the heart, since without his word rendered back to him\nhe could not live.\n\nThen his wife took both his hands and kissed them tenderly, and with\nloud weeping quickly set him free of his promise. \u201cAs well,\u201d said she,\n\u201cask the hunter to go bound to the lion\u2019s den as the white doe to come\ntame into your keeping; though she loved you with all her heart, you\ncould not look at her and not be her enemy.\u201d She gazed on him with full\naffection, and sighed deeply. \u201cLie down for a little,\u201d she said, \u201cand\nrest; it is not till midnight that she comes. When she comes I will wake\nyou.\u201d\n\nShe took his head in her hands and set it upon her knee, making him lie\ndown. \u201cIf she will come and stand tame to my hand,\u201d he said again, \u201cthen\nI will do her no harm.\u201d\n\nAfter a while he fell asleep; and, dreaming of the white doe, started\nawake to find it was already midnight, and the white doe standing there\nbefore him. But as soon as his eyes lighted on her they kindled with\nsuch fierce ardour that she trembled and sprang away out of the door and\nacross the stream. \u201cAh, ah, white doe, white doe!\u201d cried the wind in the\nfeathers of the shaft that flew after her.\n\nJust at her leaping of the stream the arrow touched her; and all her\nbody seemed to become a mist that dissolved and floated away, broken\ninto thin fragments over the fast-flowing stream.\n\nBy the hunter\u2019s side his wife lay dead, with an arrow struck into her\nheart. The door of the house was shut; it seemed to be only an evil\ndream from which he had suddenly awakened. But the arrow gave real\nsubstance to his hand: when he drew it out a few true drops of blood\nflowed after. Suddenly the hunter knew all he had done. \u201cOh, white doe,\nwhite doe!\u201d he cried, and fell down with his face to hers.\n\nAt the first light of dawn he covered her with dried ferns, that the\nchildren might not see how she lay there dead. \u201cRun out,\u201d he cried to\nthem, \u201crun out and play! Play as the white doe used to do!\u201d And the\nchildren ran out and leapt this way and that across the stream, crying,\n\u201cShe was like this, and she did this, and this was the way she went!\u201d\n\nSo while they played along the banks of the stream, the hunter took up\nhis beautiful dead wife and buried her. And to the children he said,\n\u201cYour mother has gone away; when the white doe comes she will return\nalso.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe was like this,\u201d they cried, laughing and playing, \u201cand she did\nthis, and this was the way she went!\u201d And all the time as they played he\nseemed to see the white doe leaping before him in the sunlight.\n\nThat night the hunter lay sleepless on his bed, wishing for the world\nto end; but in the crib by his side the two children lay in a sound\nslumber. Then he saw plainly in the moonlight the white doe, with a red\nmark in her side, standing still by the doorway. Soon she went to where\nthe young ones were lying, and, as she touched the coverlet softly with\nher right fore-foot, all at once two young fawns rose up from the ground\nand sprang away into the open, following where the white doe beckoned\nthem.\n\nNor did they ever return. For the rest of his life the huntsman stayed\nwhere they left him, a sorrowful and lonely man. In the grave where lay\nthe woman\u2019s form he had slain he buried his bow and arrows far from the\nsight of the sun or the reach of his own hand; and coming to the place\nnight by night, he would watch the mists and the moonrise, and cry,\n\u201cWhite doe, white doe, will you not some day forgive me?\u201d and did not\nknow that she had forgiven him when, before she died, she kissed his two\nhands and made him sleep for the last time with his head on her knee.\n\n\n\n\nTHE GENTLE COCKATRICE\n\nFar above the terraces of vine, where the goat pastures ended and the\nrocks began, the eye could take a clear view over the whole plain. From\nthat point the world below spread itself out like a green map, and\nthe only walls one could see were the white flanks and tower of the\ncathedral rising up from the grey roofs of the city; as for the streets,\nthey seemed to be but narrow foot-tracks, on which people appeared like\nants walking.\n\nThis was the view of the town which Beppo, the son of the common\nhangman, loved best. It was little pleasure to him to be down there,\nwhere all the other lads drove him from their play: for the hang-man had\nhad too much to do with the fathers and brothers of some of them, and\nhis son was not popular. When there was a hanging they would rush off to\nthe public square to see it; afterwards they made it their sport to play\nat hanging Beppo, if by chance they could catch him; and that play had a\nway at times of coming uncomfortably near to reality.\n\nBeppo did not himself go to the square when his father\u2019s trade was on;\nthe near view did not please him. Perched on the rocky hillside, he\nwould look down upon a gathering of black specks, where two others stood\ndetached upon a space in their midst, and would know that there his\nfather was hanging a man.\n\nSometimes it was more than one, and that made Beppo afraid. For he knew\nthat for every man that he hanged his father took a dram to give him\ncourage for the work; and if there were several poor fellows to be cast\noff from life, the hangman was not pleasant company afterwards for those\nvery near and dear to him.\n\nIt happened one day that the hangman was to give the rope to five\nfellows, the most popular and devil-may-care rakes and roysterers in\nthe whole town. Beppo was up very early that morning, and at the first\nstreak of light had dropped himself over the wall into the town ditch,\nand was away for the open country and the free air of the hills; for he\nknew that neither at home nor in the streets would life be worth living\nfor a week after, because of all the vengeances that would fall on him.\n\nTherefore he had taken from the home larder a loaf of bread and a clump\nof dried figs; and with these hoped to stand the siege of a week\u2019s\nsolitude rather than fall in with the hard dealings of his own kind. He\nknew a cave, above where the goats found pasture, out of which a little\nred, rusty water trickled; there he thought to make himself a castle and\ndream dreams, and was sure he would be happy enough, if only he did not\ngrow afraid.\n\nBeppo had discovered the cave one day from seeing a goat push out\nthrough a thicket of creepers on the side of the hill; and, hidden under\ntheir leaves, he had found it a wonderful, cool refuge from the heat of\nsummer noons. Now, as he entered, the place struck very cold; for it was\nearly spring, and the earth was not yet warmed through with the sun.\nSo he set himself to gather dead grass, and briers, and tufts of\ngoat\u2019s hair, and from farther down the hillside the wood of a ruined\ngoat-paddock, till he had a great store of fuel at hand. He worked all\nday like a squirrel for its winter hoard; and as his pile mounted he\ngrew less and less afraid of the cave where he meant to live.\n\nSeeing so large a heap of stuff ready for the feeding of his fire, he\nbegan to rise to great heights in his own imagination. First he had been\na poor outlaw, a mere sheep-stealer hiding from men\u2019s clutches; then he\nbecame a robber-chief; and at last he was no less than the king of the\nmountains.\n\n\u201cThis mountain is all caves,\u201d he said to himself, \u201cand all the caves are\nfull of gold; and I am the king to whom it all belongs.\u201d\n\nIn the evening Beppo lighted his fire, in the far back of his cave,\nwhere its light would not be seen, and sat down by its warmth to eat\ndried figs and bread and drink brackish water. To-morrow he meant to\ncatch a kid and roast it and eat it. Why should he ever go home again?\nKid was good--he did not get that to eat when he was at home; and now in\nthe streets the boys must be looking for him to play at their cruel game\nof hanging. Why should he go back at all?\n\nThe fire licked its way up the long walls of the cavern; slowly the\nwarmth crept round on all sides. The rock where Beppo laid his hand was\nno longer damp and cold; he made himself a bed of the driest litter in\na niche close to the fire, laid his head on a smooth knob of stone, and\nslept. But even in his sleep he remembered his fire, dreading to awake\nand find himself in darkness. Every time the warmth of it diminished he\nraised himself and put on more fuel.\n\nIn the morning--for faint blue edges of light marking the ridged throat\nof the cavern told that outside the day had begun--he woke fully, and\nthe fire still burned. As he lay, his pillow of rock felt warm and\nalmost soft; and, strangely enough, through it there went a beating\nsound as of blood. This must be his own brain that he heard; but he\nlifted his head, and where he laid his hand could feel a slow movement\nof life going on under it. Then he stared hard at the overhanging rock,\nand surely it heaved softly up and down, like some great thing breathing\nslowly in its sleep.\n\nYet he could make out no shape at all till, having run to the other side\nof the cave, he turned to see the whole face of the rock which seemed to\nbe taking on life. Then he realised very gradually what looked to be the\nthroat and jaws of a great monster lying along the ground, while all the\nrest passed away into shadow or lay buried under masses of rock, which\nclosed round it like a mould. Below the nether jaw-bone the flames\nlicked and caressed the throat; and the tough, mud-coloured hide ruffled\nand smoothed again as if grateful for the heat that tickled its way in.\n\nVery slowly indeed the great Cockatrice, which had lain buried for\nthousands of years, out of reach of the light or heat of the sun, was\ncoming round again to life. That was Beppo\u2019s own doing, and for some\nvery curious reason he was not afraid.\n\nHis heart was uplifted. \u201cThis is my cave,\u201d thought he, \u201cso this must be\nmy Cockatrice! Now I will ride out on him and conquer the world. I shall\nbe really a king then!\u201d\n\nHe guessed that it must have been the warmth which had waked the\nCockatrice, so he made fires all down the side of the cave; wherever the\ngreat flank of the Cockatrice seemed to show, there he lighted a fire to\nput heat into the slumbering body of the beast.\n\n\u201cWarm up, old fellow,\u201d he cried; \u201cthaw out, I tell you! I want you to\ntalk to me.\u201d\n\nPresently the mouth of the Cockatrice unsealed itself, and began to\nbabble of green fields. \u201cHay--I want hay!\u201d said the Cockatrice; \u201cor\ngrass. Does the world contain any grass?\u201d\n\nBeppo went out, and presently returned with an armful. Very slowly the\nCockatrice began munching the fresh fodder, and Beppo, intent on feeding\nhim back to life, ran to and fro between the hillside and the cavern\ntill he was exhausted and could go no more. He sat down and watched the\nCockatrice finish his meal.\n\nPresently, when the monster found that his fodder was at an end, he\npuckered a great lid, and far up aloft in the wall of the cave flashed\nout a green eye.\n\nIf all the emeralds in the world were gathered together, they might\nshine like that; if all the glow-worms came up out of the fields and put\ntheir tails together, they might make as great an orb of fire. All the\ncave looked as green as grass when the eye of the Cockatrice lighted on\nit; and Beppo, seeing so mighty an optic turning its rays on him, felt\nall at once shrivelled and small, and very weak at the knees.\n\n\u201cOh, Cockatrice,\u201d he said, in a monstrous sad voice, \u201cI hope I haven\u2019t\nhurt you!\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary,\u201d said the Cockatrice, \u201cyou have done me much good.\nWhat are you going to do with me now?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do with you?\u201d cried Beppo, astonished at so wild a possibility\noffering to come true. \u201cI would like to get you out, of course--but can\nI?\u201d\n\n\u201cI would like that dearly also!\u201d said the Cockatrice.\n\n\u201cBut how can I?\u201d inquired Beppo.\n\n\u201cKeep me warm and feed me,\u201d re-turned the monster. \u201cPresently I shall be\nable to find out where my tail is. When I can move that I shall be able\nto get out.\u201d\n\nBeppo undertook whatever the Cockatrice told him--it was so grand to\nhave a Cockatrice of his own. But it was a hard life, stoking up fires\nday and night, and bringing the Cockatrice the fodder necessary to\nreplenish his drowsy being. When Beppo was quite tired out he would\ncome and lay his head against the monster\u2019s snout; and the Cockatrice\nwould open a benevolent eye and look at him affectionately.\n\n\u201cDear Cockatrice,\u201d said the boy one day, \u201ctell me about yourself, and\nhow you lived and what the world was like when you were free!\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you see any green in my eye?\u201d said the Cockatrice.\n\n\u201cI do, indeed!\u201d said Beppo. \u201cI never saw anything so green in all the\nworld.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s all right, then!\u201d said the Cockatrice. \u201cClimb up and look in,\nand you will see what the world was like when I was young.\u201d\n\nSo Beppo climbed and scrambled, and slipped and clung, till he found\nhimself on the margin of a wonderful green lake, which was but the\nopening into the whole eye of the Cockatrice.\n\nAnd as soon as Beppo looked, he had lost his heart for ever to the world\nhe saw there. It was there, quite real before him: a whole world full\nof living and moving things--the world before the trouble of man came to\nit.\n\n\u201cI see green hills, and fields, and rocks, and trees,\u201d cried Beppo, \u201cand\namong them a lot of little Cockatrices are playing!\u201d\n\n\u201cThey were my brothers and sisters; I remember them,\u201d said the\nCockatrice. \u201cI have them all in my mind\u2019s eye. Call them--perhaps they\nwill come and talk to you; you will find them very nice and friendly.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey are too far off,\u201d said Beppo, \u201cthey cannot hear me.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, yes,\u201d murmured the Cockatrice, \u201cmemory is a wonderful thing!\u201d\n\nWhen Beppo came down again he was quite giddy, and lost in wonder and\njoy over the beautiful green world the Cockatrice had shown him. \u201cI like\nthat better than this!\u201d said he.\n\n\u201cSo do I,\u201d said the Cockatrice. \u201cBut perhaps, when my tail gets free, I\nshall feel better.\u201d\n\nOne morning he said to Beppo: \u201cI do really begin to feel my tail. It is\nsomewhere away down the hill yonder. Go and look out for me, and tell me\nif you can see it moving.\u201d\n\nSo Beppo went to the mouth of the cave, and looked out towards the city,\nover all the rocks and ridges and goat-pastures and slopes of vine that\nlay between.\n\nSuddenly, as he looked, the steeple of the cathedral tottered, and down\nfell its weathercock and two of its pinnacles, and half the chimneys of\nthe town snapped off their tops. All that distance away Beppo could hear\nthe terrified screams of the inhabitants as they ran out of their houses\nin terror.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ve done it!\u201d cried the Cockatrice, from within the cave.\n\n\u201cBut you mustn\u2019t do that!\u201d exclaimed Beppo in horror.\n\n\u201cMustn\u2019t do what?\u201d inquired the Cockatrice.\n\n\u201cYou mustn\u2019t wag your tail! You don\u2019t know what you are doing!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, master!\u201d wailed the Cockatrice; \u201cmayn\u2019t I? For the first time this\nthousand years I have felt young again.\u201d\n\nBeppo was pale and trembling with agitation over the fearful effects of\nthat first tail-wagging. \u201cYou mustn\u2019t feel young!\u201d said he.\n\n\u201cWhy not?\u201d asked the Cockatrice, with a piteous wail.\n\n\u201cThere isn\u2019t room in the world for a Cockatrice to feel young nowadays,\u201d\n answered Beppo gravely.\n\n\u201cBut, dear little master and benefactor,\u201d cried the Cockatrice, \u201cwhat\ndid you wake me up for?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d replied Beppo, terribly perplexed. \u201cI wouldn\u2019t have done\nit had I known where your tail was.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere is it?\u201d inquired the Cockatrice, with great interest. \u201cIt\u2019s right\nunderneath the city where I mean to be king,\u201d said Beppo; \u201cand if you\nmove it the city will come down; and then I shall have nothing to be\nking of.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well,\u201d said the Cockatrice sadly; \u201cI will wait!\u201d\n\n\u201cWait for what?\u201d thought Beppo. \u201cWaiting won\u2019t do any good.\u201d And he\nbegan to think what he must do. \u201cYou lie quite still!\u201d said he to the\nCockatrice. \u201cGo to sleep, and I will still look after you.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, little master,\u201d said the Cockatrice, \u201cbut it is difficult to go to\nsleep when the delicious trouble of spring is in one\u2019s tail! How long\ndoes this city of yours mean to stay there? I am so alive that I find it\nhard to shut an eye!\u201d\n\n\u201cI will let the fires that keep you warm go down for a bit,\u201d said Beppo,\n\u201cand you mustn\u2019t eat so much grass; then you will feel better, and your\ntail will be less of an anxiety.\u201d\n\nAnd presently, when Beppo had let the fires which warmed him get low,\nand had let time go by without bringing him any fresh fodder, the\nCockatrice dozed off into an uneasy, prehistoric slumber.\n\nThen Beppo, weeping bitterly over his treachery to the poor beast which\nhad trusted him, raked open the fires and stamped out the embers; and,\nleaving the poor Cockatrice to get cold, ran down the hill as fast as he\ncould to the city he had saved--the city of which he meant to be king.\n\nHe had been away a good many days, but the boys in the street were still\non the watch for him. He told them how he had saved the city from the\nearth-quake; and they beat him from the city gate to his father\u2019s door.\nHe told his own father how he had saved the city; and his father beat\nhim from his own door to the city gate. Nobody believed him.\n\nHe lay outside the town walls till it was dark, all smarting with his\naches and pains; then, when nobody could see him, he got up and very\nmiserably made his way back to the cave on the hill. And all the way he\nsaid to himself, \u201cShall I put fire under the Cockatrice once more, and\nmake him shake the town into ruins? Would not that be fine?\u201d\n\nInside, the cave was quite still and cold, and when he laid his hand on\nthe Cockatrice he could not feel any stir or warmth in its bones. Yet\nwhen he called, the Cockatrice just opened a slit of his green eye and\nlooked at him with trust and affection.\n\n\u201cDear Cockatrice,\u201d cried Beppo, \u201cforgive me for all the wrong I have\ndone you!\u201d And as he clambered his way toward the green light, a\ngreat tear rolled from under the heavy lid and flowed past him like a\ncataract.\n\n\u201cDear Cockatrice,\u201d cried Beppo again, when he stood on the margin of the\ngreen lake, \u201ctake me to sleep with you in the land where the Cockatrices\nare at play, and keep quite still with your tail!\u201d\n\nSlowly and painfully the Cockatrice opened his eye enough to let Beppo\nslip through; and Beppo saw the green world with its playful cockatrices\nwaiting to welcome him. Then the great eyelid shut down fast, and the\nwaking days of the Cockatrice were over. And Beppo\u2019s native town lay\nsafe, because he had learned from the Cockatrice to be patient and\ngentle, and had gone to be king of a green world where everything was\nharmless.\n\n\n\n\nTHE RAT-CATCHER\u2019S DAUGHTER\n\nOnce upon a time there lived an old rat-catcher who had a daughter,\nthe most beautiful girl that had ever been born. Their home was a dirty\nlittle cabin; but they were not so poor as they seemed, for every night\nthe rat-catcher took the rats he had cleared out of one house and let\nthem go at the door of another, so that on the morrow he might be sure\nof a fresh job.\n\nHis rats got quite to know him, and would run to him when he called;\npeople thought him the most wonderful rat-catcher, and could not make\nout how it was that a rat remained within reach of his operations.\n\nNow any one can see that a man who practised so cunning a roguery was\ngreedy beyond the intentions of Providence. Every day, as he watched his\ndaughter\u2019s beauty increase, his thoughts were: \u201cWhen will she be able\nto pay me back for all the expense she has been to me?\u201d He would have\ngrudged her the very food she ate, if it had not been necessary to keep\nher in the good looks which were some day to bring him his fortune. For\nhe was greedier than any gnome after gold.\n\nNow all good gnomes have this about them: they love whatever is\nbeautiful, and hate to see harm happen to it. A gnome who lived far\naway underground below where stood the rat-catcher\u2019s house, said to his\nfellows: \u201cUp yonder is a man who has a daughter; so greedy is he, he\nwould sell her to the first comer who gave him gold enough! I am going\nup to look after her.\u201d\n\nSo one night, when the rat-catcher set a trap, the gnome went and got\nhimself caught in it. There in the morning, when the rat-catcher came,\nhe found a funny little fellow, all bright and golden, wriggling and\nbeating to be free.\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t get out!\u201d cried the little gnome. \u201cLet me go!\u201d\n\nThe rat-catcher screwed up his mouth to look virtuous. \u201cIf I let you\nout, what will you give me?\u201d \u201cA sack full of gold,\u201d answered the gnome,\n\u201cjust as heavy as myself--not a pennyweight less!\u201d\n\n\u201cNot enough!\u201d said the rat-catcher. \u201cGuess again!\u201d\n\n\u201cAs heavy as you are!\u201d cried the gnome, beginning to plead in a thin,\nwhining tone.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m a poor man,\u201d said the rat-catcher; \u201ca poor man mayn\u2019t afford to be\ngenerous!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is it you want of me?\u201d cried the gnome.\n\n\u201cIf I let you go,\u201d said the rat-catcher, \u201cyou must make me the richest\nman in the world!\u201d Then he thought of his daughter: \u201cAlso you must make\nthe king\u2019s son marry my daughter; then I will let you go.\u201d\n\nThe gnome laughed to himself to see how the trapper was being trapped\nin his own avarice as, with the most melancholy air, he answered: \u201cI can\nmake you the richest man in the world; but I know of no way of making\nthe king\u2019s son marry your daughter, except one.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat way?\u201d asked the rat-catcher.\n\n\u201cWhy,\u201d answered the gnome, \u201cfor three years your daughter must come and\nlive with me underground, and by the end of the third year her skin will\nbe changed into pure gold like ours. And do you know any king\u2019s son who\nwould refuse to marry a beautiful maiden who was pure gold from the sole\nof her foot to the crown of her head?\u201d\n\nThe rat-catcher had so greedy an inside that he could not believe in any\nking\u2019s son refusing to marry a maiden of pure gold. So he clapped hands\non the bargain, and let the gnome go.\n\nThe gnome went down into the ground, and fetched up sacks and sacks of\ngold, until he had made the rat-catcher the richest man in the world.\nThen the father called his daughter, whose name was Jasome\u2019, and bade\nher follow the gnome down into the heart of the earth. It was all in\nvain that Jasome\u2019 begged and implored; the rat-catcher was bent on\nhaving her married to the king\u2019s son. So he pushed, and the gnome\npulled, and down she went; and the earth closed after her.\n\nThe gnome brought her down to his home under the hill upon which stood\nthe town. Everywhere round her were gold and precious stones; the very\nair was full of gold dust, so that when she remained still it settled on\nher hands and her hair, and a soft golden down began to show itself over\nher skin. So there in the house of the gnome sat Jasome\u2019, and cried;\nand, far away overhead, she heard the days come and go, by the sound of\npeople walking and the rolling of wheels.\n\nThe gnome was very kind to her; nothing did he spare of underground\ncommodities that might afford her pleasure. He taught her the legends of\nall the heroes that have gone down into earth, and been forgotten, and\nthe lost songs of the old poets, and the buried languages that once gave\nwisdom to the world: down there all these things are remembered.\n\nShe became the most curiously accomplished and wise maiden that ever was\nhidden from the light of day. \u201cI have to train you,\u201d said the gnome, \u201cto\nbe fit for a king\u2019s bride!\u201d But Jasome\u2019, though she thanked him, only\ncried to be let out.\n\nIn front of the rat-catcher\u2019s house rose a little spring of salt water\nwith gold dust in it, that gilded the basin where it sprang. When he saw\nit, he began rubbing his hands with delight, for he guessed well enough\nthat his daughter\u2019s tears had made it; and the dust in it told him how\nsurely now she was being turned into gold.\n\nAnd now the rat-catcher was the richest man in the world: all his traps\nwere made of gold, and when he went rat-hunting he rode in a gilded\ncoach drawn by twelve hundred of the finest and largest rats. This was\nfor an advertisement of the business. He now caught rats for the fun of\nit, and the show of it, but also to get money by it; for, though he was\nso rich, ratting and money-grubbing had become a second nature to him:\nunless he were at one or the other, he could not be happy.\n\nFar below, in the house of the gnome, Jasome\u2019 sat and cried. When the\nsound of the great bells ringing for Easter came down to her, the gnome\nsaid: \u201cTo-day I cannot bind you; it is the great rising day for all\nChristians. If you wish, you may go up, and ask your father now to\nrelease you.\u201d\n\nSo Jasome\u2019 kissed the gnome, and went up the track of her own tears,\nthat brought her to her father\u2019s door. When she came to the light of\nday, she felt quite blind; a soft yellow tint was all over her, and\nalready her hair was quite golden.\n\nThe rat-catcher was furious when he saw her coming back before her time.\n\u201cOh, father,\u201d she cried, \u201clet me come back for a little while to play\nin the sun!\u201d But her father, fearing lest the gilding of her complexion\nshould be spoiled, drove her back into the earth, and trampled it down\nover her head.\n\nThe gnome seemed quite sorry for her when she returned; but already,\nhe said, a year was gone--and what were three years, when a king\u2019s son\nwould be the reward?\n\nAt the next Easter he let her go again; and now she looked quite golden,\nexcept for her eyes, and her white teeth, and the nails on her pretty\nlittle fingers and toes. But again her father drove her back into the\nground, and put a heavy stone slab over the spot to make sure of her.\n\nAt last the third Easter came, and she was all gold. She kissed the\ngnome many times, and was almost sorry to leave him, for he had been\nvery kind to her. And now he told her about her father catching him\nin the trap, and robbing him of his gold by a hard bargain, and of his\nbeing forced to take her down to live with him, till she was turned into\ngold, so that she might marry the king\u2019s son. \u201cFor now,\u201d said he, \u201cyou\nare so compounded of gold that only the gnomes could rub it off you.\u201d\n\nSo this time, when Jasome\u2019 came up once more to the light of day, she\ndid not go back again to her cruel father, but went and sat by the\nroadside, and played with the sunbeams, and wondered when the king\u2019s son\nwould come and marry her. And as she sat there all the country-people\nwho passed by stopped and mocked her; and boys came and threw mud at her\nbecause she was all gold from head to foot--an object, to be sure, for\nall simple folk to laugh at. So presently, instead of hoping, she fell\nto despair, and sat weeping, with her face hidden in her hands.\n\nBefore long the king\u2019s son came that road, and saw something shining\nlike sunlight on a pond; but when he came near, he found a lovely maiden\nof pure gold lying in a pool of her own tears, with her face hidden in\nher hair.\n\nNow the king\u2019s son, unlike the country-folk, knew the value of gold; but\nhe was grieved at heart for a maiden so stained all over with it, and\nmore, when he beheld how she wept. So he went to lift her up; and there,\nsurely, he saw the most beautiful face he could ever have dreamed of.\nBut, alas! so discoloured--even her eyes, and her lips, and the very\ntears she shed were the colour of gold! When he could bring her to\nspeak, she told him how, because she was all gold, all the people mocked\nat her, and boys threw mud at her; and she had nowhere to go, unless it\nwere back to the kind gnome who lived underground, out of sight of the\nsweet sun.\n\nSo the prince said, \u201cCome with me, and I will take you to my father\u2019s\npalace, and there nobody shall mock you, but you shall sit all your\ndays in the sunshine, and be happy.\u201d And as they went, more and more he\nwondered at her great beauty--so spoiled that he could not look at her\nwithout grief--and was taken with increasing wonder at the beautiful\nwisdom stored in her golden mind; for she told him the tales of the\nheroes which she had learned from the gnome, and of buried cities; also\nthe songs of old poets that have been forgotten; and her voice, like the\nrest of her, was golden.\n\nThe prince said to himself, \u201cI shut my eyes, and am ready to die loving\nher; yet, when I open them, she is but a talking statue!\u201d\n\nOne day he saki to her, \u201cUnder all this disguise you must be the most\nbeautiful thing upon earth! Already to me you are the dearest!\u201d and he\nsighed, for he knew that a king\u2019s son might not marry a figure of gold.\nNow one day after this, as Jasome\u2019 sat alone in the sunshine and cried,\nthe little old gnome stood before her, and said, \u201cWell, Jasome\u2019, have\nyou married the king\u2019s son?\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d cried Jasome\u2019, \u201cyou have so changed me: I am no longer human!\nYet he loves me, and, but for that, he would marry me.\u201d\n\n\u201cDear me!\u201d said the gnome. \u201cIf that is all, I can take the gold off you\nagain: why, I said so!\u201d\n\nJasome\u2019 entreated him, by all his former kindness, to do so for her now.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said the gnome, \u201cbut a bargain is a bargain. Now is the time for\nme to get back my bags of gold. Do you go to your father, and let him\nknow that the king\u2019s son is willing to marry you if he restores to me my\ntreasure that he took from me; for that is what it comes to.\u201d\n\nUp jumped Jasome\u2019, and ran to the rat-catcher\u2019s house. \u201cOh, father,\u201d she\ncried, \u201cnow you can undo all your cruelty to me; for now, if you will\ngive back the gnome his gold, he will give my own face back to me, and I\nshall marry the king\u2019s son!\u201d\n\nBut the rat-catcher was filled with admiration at the sight of her, and\nwould not believe a word she said. \u201cI have given you your dowry,\u201d he\nanswered; \u201cthree years I had to do without you to get it. Take it away,\nand get married, and leave me the peace and plenty I have so hardly\nearned!\u201d\n\nJasome\u2019 went back and told the gnome.\n\n\u201cReally,\u201d said he, \u201cI must show this rat-catcher that there are other\nsorts of traps, and that it isn\u2019t only rats and gnomes that get caught\nin them! I have given him his taste of wealth; now it shall act as\npickle to his poverty!\u201d\n\nSo the next time the rat-catcher put his foot out of doors the ground\ngave way under it, and, snap!--the gnome had him by the leg.\n\n\u201cLet me go!\u201d cried the rat-catcher; \u201cI can\u2019t get out!\u201d\n\n\u201cCan\u2019t you?\u201d said the gnome. \u201cIf I let you out, what will you give me?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy daughter!\u201d cried the rat-catcher; \u201cmy beautiful golden daughter!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh no!\u201d laughed the gnome. \u201cGuess again!\u201d\n\n\u201cMy own weight in gold!\u201d cried the rat-catcher, in a frenzy; but the\ngnome would not close the bargain till he had wrung from the rat-catcher\nthe promise of his last penny.\n\nSo the gnome carried away all the sacks of gold before the rat-catcher\u2019s\neyes; and when he had them safe underground, then at last he let the\nold man go. Then he called Jasome\u2019 to follow him, and she went down\nwillingly into the black earth.\n\n\nFor a whole year the gnome rubbed and scrubbed and tubbed her to get\nthe gold out of her composition; and when it was done, she was the most\nshiningly beautiful thing you ever set eyes on.\n\nWhen she got back to the palace, she found her dear prince pining for\nlove of her, and wondering when she would return. So they were married\nthe very next day; and the rat-catcher came to look on at the wedding.\n\nHe grumbled because he was in rags, and because he was poor; he wept\nthat he had been robbed of his money and his daughter. But gnomes and\ndaughters, he said, were in one and the same box; such ingratitude as\ntheirs no one could beat.\n\n\n\n\nWHITE BIRCH\n\nOnce upon a time there lived in a wood a brother and sister who had been\nforgotten by all the world. But this thing did not greatly grieve\ntheir hearts, because they themselves were all the world to each other:\nmeeting or parting, they never forgot that. Nobody remained to tell them\nwho they were; but she was \u201cLittle Sister,\u201d and he was \u201cFair Brother,\u201d\n and those were the only names they ever went by.\n\nIn their little wattled hut they would have been perfectly happy but\nfor one thing which now and then they remembered and grieved over. Fair\nBrother was lame--not a foot could he put to the ground, nor take one\nstep into the outside world. But he lay quiet on his bed of leaves,\nwhile Little Sister went out and in, bringing him food and drink, and\nthe scent of flowers, and tales of the joy of earth and of the songs of\nbirds.\n\nOne day she brought him a litter of withered birch-leaves to soften his\nbed and make it warmer for the approaching season of cold; and all the\nwinter he lay on it, and sighed. Little Sister had never seen him so sad\nbefore.\n\nIn the spring, when the songs of the pairing birds began, his sorrow\nonly grew greater. \u201cLet me go out, let me go out,\u201d he cried; \u201conly a\nlittle way into the bright world before I die!\u201d She kissed his feet, and\ntook him up in her arms and carried him. But she could only go a very\nlittle way with her burden; presently she had to return and lay him down\nagain on his bed of leaves.\n\n\u201cHave I seen all the bright world?\u201d he asked. \u201cIs it such a little\nplace?\u201d\n\nTo hide her sorrow from him, Little Sister ran out into the woods, and\nas she went, wondering how to comfort his grief, she could not help\nweeping.\n\nAll at once at the foot of a tree she saw the figure of a woman seated.\nIt was strange, for she had never before seen anybody else in the wood\nbut themselves. The woman said to her, \u201cWhy is it that you weep so?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe heart of Fair Brother is breaking,\u201d replied Little Sister. \u201cIt is\nbecause of that that I am weeping.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy is his heart breaking?\u201d inquired the other. \u201cI do not know,\u201d\n answered Little Sister. \u201cEver since last autumn fell it has been so.\nAlways, before, he has been happy; he has no reason not to be, only he\nis lame.\u201d\n\nShe had come close to the seated figure; and looking, she saw a woman\nwith a very white skin, in a robe and hood of deep grey. Grey eyes\nlooked back at her with just a soft touch in them of the green that\ncomes with the young leaves of spring.\n\n\u201cYou are beautiful,\u201d said Little Sister, drawing in her breath. \u201cYes, I\nam beautiful,\u201d answered the other. \u201cWhy is Fair Brother lame? Has he no\nfeet?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, beautiful feet!\u201d said Little Sister. \u201cBut they are like still\nwater; they cannot run.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you want him to run,\u201d said the other, \u201cI can tell you what to do.\nWhat will you give me in exchange?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhatever you like to ask,\u201d answered Little Sister; \u201cbut I am poor.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have beautiful hair,\u201d said the woman; \u201cwill you let that go?\u201d\n\nLittle Sister stooped down her head, and let the other cut off\u2019 her\nhair. The wind went out of it with a sigh as it fell into the grey\nwoman\u2019s lap. She hid it away under her robe, and said, \u201cListen, Little\nSister, and I will tell you! To-night is the new moon. If you can hold\nyour tongue till the moon is full, the feet of Fair Brother shall run\nlike a stream from the hills, dancing from rock to rock.\u201d\n\n\u201cOnly tell me what I must do!\u201d said Little Sister.\n\n\u201cYou see this birch-tree, with its silver skin?\u201d said the woman. \u201cCut\noff two strips of it and weave them into shoes for Fair Brother. And\nwhen they are finished by the full moon, if you have not spoken, you\nhave but to put them upon Fair Brother\u2019s feet, and they will outrun\nyours.\u201d\n\nSo Little Sister, as the other had told her, cut off two strips from the\nbark of the birch-tree, and ran home as fast as she could to tell her\nbrother of the happiness which, with only a little waiting, was in store\nfor them. But as she came near home, over the low roof she saw the new\nmoon hanging like a white feather in the air; and, closing her lips, she\nwent in and kissed Fair Brother silently.\n\nHe said, \u201cLittle Sister, loose out your hair over me, and let me feel\nthe sweet airs; and tell me how the earth sounds, for my heart is sick\nwith sorrow and longing.\u201d She took his hand and laid it upon her heart\nthat he might feel its happy beating, but said no word. Then she sat\ndown at his feet and began to work at the shoes. All the birch-bark she\ncut into long strips fit for weaving, doing everything as the grey woman\nhad told her.\n\nFair Brother fretted at her silence, and cried, calling her cruel; but\nshe only kissed his feet, and went on working the faster. And the white\nbirch shoes grew under her hands; and every night she watched and saw\nthe moon growing round.\n\nFair Brother said, \u201cLittle Sister, what have you done with your hair in\nwhich you used to fetch home the wind? And why do you never go and bring\nme flowers or sing me the song of the birds?\u201d And Little Sister looked\nup and nodded, but never answered or moved from her task, for her\nfingers were slow, and the moon was quick in its growing.\n\nOne night Fair Brother was lying asleep, and his head was filled with\ndreams of the outer world into which he longed to go. The full moon\nlooked in through the open door, and Little Sister laughed in her heart\nas she slipped the birch shoes on to his feet. \u201cNow run, dear feet,\u201d she\nwhispered; \u201cbut do not outrun mine.\u201d\n\nUp in his sleep leapt Fair Brother, for the dream of the white birch had\nhold of him. A lady with a dark hood and grey eyes full of the laughter\nof leaves beckoned him. Out he ran into the moonlight, and Little Sister\nlaughed as she ran with him.\n\nIn a little while she called, \u201cDo not outrun me, Fair Brother!\u201d But he\nseemed not to hear her, for not a bit did he slacken the speed of his\nrunning.\n\nPresently she cried again, \u201cRest with me a while, Fair Brother! Do\nnot outrun me!\u201d But Fair Brother\u2019s feet were fleet after their long\nidleness, and they only ran the faster. \u201cAh, ah!\u201d she cried, all out of\nbreath. \u201cCome back to me when you have done running, Fair Brother.\u201d And\nas he disappeared among the trees, she cried after him, \u201cHow will you\nknow the way, since you were never here before? Do not get lost in the\nwood, Fair Brother!\u201d\n\nShe lay on the ground and listened, and could hear the white birch shoes\ncarrying him away till all sound of them died.\n\nWhen, next morning, he had not returned, she searched all day through\nthe wood, calling his name.\n\n\u201cWhere are you, Fair Brother? Where have you lost yourself?\u201d she cried,\nbut no voice answered her.\n\nFor a while she comforted her heart, saying, \u201cHe has not run all these\nyears--no wonder he is still running. When he is tired he will return.\u201d\n\nBut days and weeks went by, and Fair Brother never came back to her.\nEvery day she wandered searching for him, or sat at the door of the\nlittle wattled hut and cried.\n\nOne day she cried so much that the ground became quite wet with her\ntears. That night was the night of the full moon, but weary with grief\nshe lay down and slept soundly, though outside the woods were bright.\n\nIn the middle of the night she started up, for she thought she heard\nsomebody go by; and, surely, feet were running away in the distance. And\nwhen she looked out, there across the doorway was the print of the birch\nshoes on the ground she had made wet with her tears.\n\n\u201cAlas, alas!\u201d cried Little Sister. \u201cWhat have I done that he comes to\nthe very door of our home and passes by, though the moon shines in and\nshows it him?\u201d\n\nAfter that she searched everywhere through the forest to discover the\nprint of the birch shoes upon the ground. Here and there after rain she\nthought she could see traces, but never was she able to track them far.\n\nOnce more came the night of the full moon, and once more in the middle\nof the night Little Sister started up and heard feet running away in the\ndistance. She called, but no answer came back to her.\n\nSo on the third full moon she waited, sitting in the door of the hut,\nand would not sleep.\n\n\u201cIf he has been twice,\u201d she said to herself, \u201che will come again, and\nI shall see him. Ah, Fair Brother, Fair Brother, I have given you feet;\nwhy have you so used me?\u201d\n\nPresently she heard a sound of footsteps, and there came Fair Brother\nrunning towards her. She saw his face pale and ghostlike, yet he never\nlooked at her, but ran past and on without stopping.\n\n\u201cFair Brother, Fair Brother, wait for me; do not outrun me!\u201d cried\nLittle Sister; and was up in haste to be after him.\n\nHe ran fast, and would not stop; but she ran fast too, for her love\nwould not let him go. Once she nearly had him by the hair, and once she\ncaught him by the cloak; but in her hand it shredded and crumbled like a\ndry leaf; and still, though there was no breath left in her, she ran on.\n\nAnd now she began to wonder, for Fair Brother was running the way that\nshe knew well--towards the tree from which she had cut the two strips\nof bark. Her feet were failing her; she knew that she could run no more.\nJust as they came together in sight of the birch-tree Little Sister\nstumbled and fell.\n\nShe saw Fair Brother run on and strike with his hands and feet against\nthe tree, and cry, \u201cOh, White Birch, White Birch, lift the latch up,\nor she will catch me!\u201d And at once the tree opened its rind, and Fair\nBrother ran in.\n\n\u201cSo,\u201d said Little Sister, \u201cyou are there, are you, Brother? I know,\nthen, what I have done to you.\u201d\n\nShe went and laid her ear to the tree, and inside she could hear Fair\nBrother sobbing and crying. It sounded to her as if White Birch were\nbeating him.\n\n\u201cWell, well, Fair Brother, she shall not beat you for long!\u201d said Little\nSister.\n\nShe went home and waited till the next full moon had come. Then, as soon\nas it was dark, she went along through the wood until she came to the\nplace, and there she crept close to the white birch-tree and waited.\n\nPresently she heard Fair Brother\u2019s voice come faintly out of the heart\nof the tree: \u201cWhite Birch, it is the full moon and the hour in which\nLittle Sister gave life to my feet. For one hour give me leave to go,\nthat I may run home and look at her while she sleeps. I will not stop or\nspeak, and I promise you that I will return.\u201d\n\nThen she heard the voice of White Birch answer grudgingly: \u201cIt is her\nhour and I cannot hold you, therefore you may go. Only when you come\nagain I will beat you.\u201d\n\nThen the tree opened a little way, and Fair Brother ran out. He ran so\nquickly in his eager haste that Little Sister had not time to catch\nhim, and she did not dare to call aloud. \u201cI must make sure,\u201d she said\nto herself, \u201cbefore he comes back. To-night White Birch will have to let\nhim go.\u201d\n\nSo she gathered as many dry pieces of wood as she could find, and made\nthem into a pile near at hand; and setting them alight, she soon had a\nbrisk fire burning.\n\nBefore long she heard the sound of feet in the brushwood, and there came\nFair Brother, running as hard as he could go, with the breath sobbing in\nand out of his body.\n\nLittle Sister sprang out to meet him, but as soon as he saw her he beat\nwith his hands and feet against the tree, crying, \u201cWhite Birch, White\nBirch, lift the latch up, or she will catch me!\u201d\n\nBut before the tree could open Little Sister had caught hold of the\nbirch shoes, and pulled them off his feet, and running towards the fire\nshe thrust them into the red heart of the embers.\n\nThe white birch shivered from head to foot, and broke into lamentable\nshrieks. The witch thrust her head out of the tree, crying, \u201cDon\u2019t,\ndon\u2019t! You are burning my skin! Oh, cruel! how you are burning me!\u201d\n\n\u201cI have not burned you enough yet,\u201d cried Little Sister; and raking the\nburning sticks and faggots over the ground, she heaped them round the\nfoot of the white birch-tree, whipping the flames to make them leap\nhigh.\n\nThe witch drew in her head, but inside she could be heard screaming.\nAs the flames licked the white bark she cried, \u201cOh, my skin! You are\nburning my skin. My beautiful white skin will be covered with nothing\nbut blisters. Do you know that you are ruining my complexion?\u201d\n\nBut Little Sister said, \u201cIf I make you ugly you will not be able to show\nyour face again to deceive the innocent, and to ruin hearts that were\nhappy.\u201d\n\nSo she piled on sticks and faggots till the outside of the birch-tree\nwas all black and scarred and covered with blisters, marks of which have\nremained to this day. And inside, the witch could be heard dancing time\nto the music of the flames, and crying because of her ruined complexion.\n\nThen Little Sister stooped and took up Fair Brother in her arms. \u201cYou\ncannot walk now,\u201d she whispered, \u201cI have taken away your feet; so I will\ncarry you.\u201d\n\nHe was so starved and thin that he was not very heavy, and all the long\nway home Little Sister carried him in her arms. How happy they were,\nlooking in each other\u2019s eyes by the clear light of the moon! \u201cCan you\never be happy again in the old way?\u201d asked Little Sister. \u201cShall you not\nwant to run?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d answered Fair Brother; \u201cI shall never wish to run again. And as\nfor the rest\u201d--he stroked her head softly--\u201cwhy, I can feel that your\nhair is growing--it is ever so long, and I can see the wind lifting it.\nWhite Birch has no hair of her own, but she has some that she wears,\njust the same colour as yours.\u201d","title":"The Blue Moon","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":27703}