{"collection":"folklore-oral-tradition","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_50931/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_50931","id":"gutenberg_50931","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50931","summary":null,"tags":["Adventure stories","Boys -- Juvenile fiction","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Science-Fiction & Fantasy","Category: Short Stories","Children's stories","Courage -- Juvenile fiction","Empathy -- Juvenile fiction","Fairy tales","Fantasy fiction","Foster parents -- Juvenile fiction","Gardens -- Juvenile fiction","Ghosts -- Juvenile fiction","Girls -- Juvenile fiction","Imaginary places -- Juvenile fiction","Imagination -- Juvenile fiction","Indians of North America -- Juvenile fiction","Kings and rulers -- Juvenile fiction","Mothers and daughters -- Juvenile fiction","Prayer -- Juvenile fiction","Princesses -- Juvenile fiction","Voyages, Imaginary -- Juvenile fiction","War -- Juvenile fiction"],"text":"STORIES\n OF\n ENCHANTMENT\n\n\n BY\n JANE PENTZER MYERS\n\n ILLUSTRATED BY\n HARRIET ROOSEVELT RICHARDS\n\n CHICAGO\n A. C. McCLURG & CO.\n 1901\n\n Copyright\n By A. C. McClurg & Co.\n A.D. 1901\n\n\n TO KATE WINIFRED.\n\nJust between the \u201cLand o\u2019 Dreams\u201d and broad daylight is a beautiful\nworld: where good wishes come true: where the poor and the lonely are\nrich in castles and friends: and where sorrowful folk are happy.\n\nThere you may hear the birds singing and children laughing, all day\nlong. The trees are full of blossoms and fruit. The sky is always blue,\nthe grass green and soft.\n\nUnder the trees dwell the fairies, and against the blue sky is sometimes\nseen the sheen of angels\u2019 wings.\n\nOn the borders of this land the real and the unreal are so strangely\nblended that children are puzzled to know where the boundary lies.\n\nJust across its borders blooms the little white ghost-flower.\n\nIt is for you, little girl.\n\n J. P. M.\n\n\n\n\n CONTENTS.\n\n\n Page\n I. The Ghost Flower, or the White Blackbird 11\n II. The Little Yellow Moccasins 31\n III. The Little Ghost who Laughed 45\n IV. Titania\u2019s Maid of Honor 71\n V. Bran, the Wolf Dog 89\n VI. The Corn Fairy 111\n VII. At the Wayside Cross 125\n VIII. In Quest of the Dark 133\n IX. The King will hunt To-day 149\n X. He was a Prince 161\n XI. Where the River hides its Pearls 187\n XII. The Mist Lady 205\n\n\n\n\n ILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n\n Page\n The pipe changed into a strange flower 21\n Little Bravo 35\n \u201cOh, you pretty dear\u201d 55\n Mateel sank down on her knees and gazed around 75\n In a great carven chair sat a lady 95\n The little girl playfully clasped her knees 115\n Glimpses of the Wonderful City shall be given to her 129\n Soon he was in her arms 137\n \u201cI think I am going to like you\u201d 141\n \u201cHe gave me this keepsake for my mamma\u201d 144\n In their palace by the water wait the king and queen 167\n She started up in alarm 195\n \u201cOpen your eyes wide and look at me\u201d 207\n\n\n\n\n I.\n THE GHOST FLOWER, OR THE WHITE BLACKBIRD.\n\n\nThere is a region of our own land, far to the westward, where great\nmountains lift their serene heads into the eternal calm of the upper\nair. Sunrise and sunset paint them with unearthly beauties; and night,\nwith its myriads of flashing stars or its splendid moon, shines down on\ntheir white foreheads, and bids them dream on through the coming ages,\nas they have done in the past.\n\nAmong their barren valleys one sometimes lights upon a small oasis. A\nlittle mountain stream, fed by the melting snows of the peaks, leaps and\nsings and flashes to its grave in the desert sand. Its banks are fringed\nwith cottonwood trees, and the short grass and underbrush flourish in\ntheir shade.\n\nUsually, some energetic American or Chinaman is ranching it there, and\nclaiming all the valley; but far away from the towns and the mines one\nmay sometimes come upon a band of Indians, living their own lives\nseparate and alone in their secluded valley.\n\nA generation ago, a fierce war raged between the whites and the Indians;\nand during its progress a train of emigrants, passing near an Indian\nvillage, was attacked by the warriors of the tribe. All the whites were\nkilled, except one little child, who crept away into the sagebrush, and,\nworn out with fear and fatigue, dropped asleep. There the wife of the\nchief medicine man of the tribe found her; and when the little one\nopened her eyes, and, putting up a piteous lip, began to sob, the woman\ngathered her into her arms with tender \u201cNo, no\u2019s\u201d and soft guttural\ncooings, that soothed and quieted the child. For the Great Spirit had\nlately called her own baby \u201cfar over the terrible mountains\u201d to the\nspirit land. And this little one crept into the bereaved heart of the\nIndian mother.\n\nShe took the child to her husband, and received permission to keep her.\nAnd so the little girl, with her lint-white hair and blue eyes, grew up\namong the other children of the valley. Soon after the massacre of the\nwagon train, the tribe withdrew from the vengeance of the white soldiers\nto a fertile, wooded valley, hidden in the heart of the mountains. Here\nlittle \u201cSnow-flower,\u201d as she was named, lived happy with her foster\nparents. Her Indian mother was very proud of her childish beauty, and\ntook excellent care of her. She bathed her often, in the clear water of\nthe little river that ran through the valley; for, contrary to the\npopular belief, the Indians of the mountain are cleanly in their habits,\nand bathe their persons and wash their garments frequently, if water is\nplentiful. She braided her fair hair, and made for her pretty little\ndresses of pink or red calico, bought at the trader\u2019s store at the\nagency, many weary miles away.\n\nIn the winter, she wore over her dress a warm fur coat reaching to the\nankles, with a hood at the back to draw over her head. This was made of\nthe skins of jack rabbits. Warm leggings and moccasins helped to keep\nher warm, and she was usually very comfortable.\n\nSometimes the supply of pine nuts would give out, the fish refuse to\nbite, or the jack rabbits become scarce and shy. Then the only\nalternative was to go to the hated agency.\n\nAt such times little Snow-flower was hidden in some secure place and\nwarned to remain quiet; for her Indian mother was haunted by the fear of\nseparation from the child. She knew that inquiries had been set afloat\nat the agency for a little one, said to have been saved from the\nmassacre, and her heart told her that the child\u2019s kindred would claim\nher, sooner or later. So, for many years little Snow-flower never saw a\nwhite person.\n\nWhen she asked her Indian father or mother why she was so different from\nthe other children, they told her The Great Spirit had made her so, and\nshe was content.\n\n\u201cPerhaps it\u2019s because I am the great Medicine Chief\u2019s daughter,\u201d she\nsaid to her father; and he gravely nodded.\n\nShe was very fond of both of her foster parents; but her love for the\nmedicine man was mingled with awe. When she saw him dressed for some\nreligious dance or yearly festival, in his strange medicine dress, with\nhis face painted in grotesque and horrible pattern, she fled to her\nmother and hid her face in her lap. She loved her mother devotedly, and\nher love was returned. The woman was like all Indian mothers, very\ngentle and kind to her little daughter. The little girl was never\npunished, and was always spoken to in the soft, low voice peculiar to\nIndian women. \u201cLittle daughter,\u201d \u201cLittle Starlight,\u201d \u201cLittle\nSinging-bird,\u201d were the fond names bestowed on her.\n\nThe years passed quietly by, until Snow-flower was ten years old, when,\none summer day, the medicine man came into the tepee looking very ill.\nHe threw himself down on the pallet on the floor and soon was\nunconscious. He lingered so nine days, anxiously watched and cared for\nby his wife and Snow-flower. On the tenth day he opened his eyes and\nbeckoned his wife to him.\n\n\u201cI must go far over the terrible mountains, into the heart of the\nsunset, into the spirit land. You will come soon; watch for the token I\nwill send you.\u201d\n\nThen, closing his eyes, he was quickly gone. And the tepee was very\ndesolate and lonely to the wife and little Snow-flower.\n\nAll through the long days and the bright starlit nights the wife watched\nfor the token he would send her, until her knees grew weak, and her head\ndrooped, and she could not walk. Then little Snow-flower fed her, and\nwaited on her, and also watched for the token that was to be sent. One\nday she crept into the hut and knelt by the Indian woman.\n\n\u201cMother,\u201d she whispered, \u201cI have seen a strange sight: a flock of\nblackbirds lit close to our home. I thought to snare some for your food;\nbut as I approached them, I saw that one of them was shaped like the\nrest,\u2014but, mother, he was pure white; and he lit on the ridgepole of our\nhome.\u201d\n\nThen the pale wife raised herself on her elbow, her eyes shining with\njoy.\n\n\u201cIt is the spirit-bird, dear little one; it is the token. Go now,\nquickly, up the dark ravine; follow to its source the spring that runs\npast our door. I have never allowed you to go there, for a dark spirit\nlives in that dread place; but now, do not fear; the spirit-bird will\nprotect you. Go into the deep wood that grows around the fountain head.\nYou will come to a fallen log. Watch closely; and come and tell me what\nyou see.\u201d\n\nSo little Snow-flower, shaken with fear and grief,\u2014for she knew that her\nmother must soon leave her,\u2014followed the little rill, up the dark\nravine, to its source. The white blackbird flitted ahead, and wherever\nhe rested, the sunlight broke through the thick leaves overhead, so that\nshe walked in light all the way. Presently she came in sight of the\nfallen log, and her heart stood still with fear; for, sitting on the\nlog, wrapped in his blanket, and smoking a long-stemmed, strange-looking\npipe, was the medicine man, her foster father. As she came toward him,\nhe arose and fixed on her his bright eyes; and then he spoke in a soft\nvoice that seemed to come from a long distance.\n\n\u201cLittle pale-face daughter, take this pipe to my wife. It is a token\nthat you have seen me. Tell her I am lonely without her; that she must\nbe ready when the sun is setting to go with me, through the sunset\ngates, into the spirit world. As for you, my daughter, your path lies\nthere,\u201d pointing toward the east; \u201cfollow it to your own nation and your\nown kindred;\u201d and, laying his pipe on the log, he was gone in an\ninstant.\n\nLittle Snow-flower, almost overcome with fear, ran quickly to the log.\nShe picked up the pipe, which changed in her hands into a strange\nflower; the leaves, the stem, and the blossoms were all white. It was\nthe Ghost flower, or Indian pipe.\n\nHurrying back down the ravine, she ran with flying feet into the tepee.\nThe Indian woman snatched the flower from the child\u2019s hand and kissed\nit, then listened anxiously to her story.\n\n\u201cYes, little one, I must go. I had hoped that you might go with me; but\nthe Great Spirit does not will it so. And before I go, you must leave\nme; I must see you started on your journey.\u201d And then she told her of\nher rescue, and of her parentage.\n\n\u201cThis was tied fast round your neck. I hid it, and told no one.\u201d She\nshowed the little girl the case of a gold locket, with a scrap of\nclosely written paper within. \u201cTake this to the agency. The paper talks;\nbut do not fear, it is not bewitched. The agent will speak for it, and I\nbelieve it will tell you where to find your kindred. Now hasten, dear\nchild; the sun will soon reach the cleft in the mountain, and then I\nmust go. I will see you again; my husband\u2019s power is great; he will let\nme come to you whenever you find a flower like this\u2014the Ghost flower.\u201d\n\nThen, with tears and sobs, they separated. And when the sun was setting,\na great flock of blackbirds flew straight into its splendor; and among\nthem were two white ones: the souls of the medicine chief and his wife.\nAnd poor little Snow-flower had begun her long journey to the agency.\nShe left the valley secretly, crept away without bidding any one in the\ntribe farewell, for her Indian mother feared that they might detain her.\nThe medicine chief\u2019s home stood apart from the rest of the village, and\nwas approached by the villagers with fear. When it was known that he was\ndead, the tribe buried him and mourned for him. But the mother and the\ndaughter were unmolested in their grief.\n\nA few days after Snow-flower had left, a kind-hearted woman ventured\nnear. Great was her surprise to find the tepee empty; and it was\nbelieved by all that the medicine man had come for his wife and\ndaughter, and had conveyed them to the spirit world.\n\nLittle Snow-flower followed the path as far as she had gone in the old\ndays with her foster mother; but when she came to the cave where she had\nbeen concealed, she was at a loss to know which way to go. She wandered\non, frightened and weary. The food she had brought with her was almost\ngone. One night she lay down beside a strange-looking trail. There were\nshort logs laid across it, and on these were long slim logs or poles\nmade of iron. It was in a valley between two great mountains. She\nwondered at it greatly. It was either a trail made by some wizard or\nmedicine man, or it was made by that strange tribe to which she\nbelonged, and of which she had heard for the first time that day, the\n\u201cpale-faces.\u201d\n\nBut at least there was companionship in it, after the horrible\nloneliness of the mountains. So she snuggled down near the trail, and\nwent to sleep. She was awakened by a terrible rumble and roar that shook\nthe earth around her. Something all fire and flashing eyes went\nshrieking and hissing past her. She screamed with fear, and tried to\nrun, but her feet refused to carry her. The monster went a little way,\nand then stopped. Some men sprang from its back and came toward her,\ncarrying a light. She saw that they were fair, like herself, and then\nshe fainted.\n\nThe men came hurrying on. It was a special train, carrying the\nsuperintendent of the road, and a friend. \u201cDid you say the massacre was\njust here?\u201d said the gentleman.\n\n\u201cRight about here\u2014perhaps a few feet farther north.\u201d\n\nThe gentleman sighed. \u201cAnd has nothing been heard of the child?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Indians positively declare that she is living somewhere in the\nmountains, and that she is well cared for, but refuse to tell anything\nmore.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I must have the child, if she is to be found on\u2014 Why, what is\nthis?\u201d he exclaimed, as his foot struck against the soft little body of\nSnow-flower. She shivered and moaned.\n\n\u201cWhat in this world! a little white girl, dressed like a little Indian!\u201d\ncried the superintendent.\n\n\u201cLet me see the child. She looks as my sister Mary did at that age. What\nif this is her child, the little one I am searching for? Here, let me\ncarry her into the car; she is mine; I am sure of it,\u201d said the\ngentleman.\n\nAnd so little Snow-flower awoke from her swoon to a new and wonderful\nlife. It almost seemed in later years, as she looked back to that time,\nthat she had entered another world; for she found love, riches,\neducation, all awaiting her.\n\nOnce or twice since, in lonely walks, she has found the Ghost flower;\nand always then appears the vague, misty outline of her Indian mother.\n\nA few days ago, her little son (for she is a woman and a mother now)\ncame into the house crying, \u201cMother, I saw a white blackbird. It was\nwith a great flock of black ones; it was just like them, only it was\nwhite.\u201d\n\nShe hurried out of the house hoping to find the spirit-bird; but it had\nvisited her, found her happy, and hastened back to the spirit land.\n\n\n\n\n II.\n THE LITTLE YELLOW MOCCASINS.\n\n\nA clear river goes winding down, past green and shaded banks, through\nthe beautiful state of Iowa. It is named the Cedar, although the Oak, or\nthe Maple, or a dozen other names would be more appropriate, for the\nCedar is seldom found among the abundant trees that grow beside it.\n\nYears ago, the Indians dwelt on its banks. They led an idyllic life: the\nmen fished in the blue waters, or hunted and trapped in the woods; the\nwomen planted the small clearings with corn. These corn-fields may still\nbe seen, covered with little hillocks resembling in size and shape those\nseen in a prairie-dog village; the corn was planted in these mounds,\ninstead of in rows, as with us.\n\nHere the women worked and gossiped,\u2014the babies in their cradles,\nstrapped to their mothers\u2019 backs, or propped up against the trunks of\ntrees, and staring with round black eyes at the new and strange scenes\naround them.\n\nAmong the women was one pretty young mother, who watched, as she worked,\nher little son in his cradle. She talked or sang to him as she passed\nhim by. She named him \u201cLittle Bravo,\u201d \u201cLittle Hunter.\u201d She told him that\nshe was growing very old now; that he must step out of his cradle and\ntake care of her. Then she would laugh, showing her white teeth, and the\nbaby would wag his head from side to side, and laugh in sympathy,\nrevealing two cunning little teeth also. All the fond talk that a white\nmother lavishes on her baby was told over by this Indian mother; for\nmothers are alike in their love, whatever their color may be.\n\nThe years passed merrily along, for happy hearts make the hardest life a\nmerry one. The Little Bravo was a large boy now. Ten summers and winters\nhad passed since he came to his proud father and mother. He had learned\nto row a canoe on the river, to fish, to set traps, and with bow and\narrow to bring down the wild duck and the prairie chicken. Soon he would\nbe a man, a\u2014young brave indeed,\u2014and go with his father to hunt the\nbison, or on the warpath.\n\nHow many daydreams his mother enjoyed over his future! She saw him in\nfancy a great chief, leading the tribe in war and in peace; she saw him\nreturning from war with many scalps of the enemy; saw him in the home\nwith wife and children, while his father and herself, grown old and\ngray, sat in the warmest corner of the tepee and told his children\nstories of their father\u2019s brave deeds.\n\nAs she dreamed her daydreams, she busily worked on the fine clothing\nwith which she adorned him and his father; for it was her delight that\nthey outshone the rest of the men of the tribe in the splendor of their\nraiment,\u2014hunting shirts and leggings of the finest tanned skins, adorned\nwith fringes and gorgeous with crude embroidery, and moccasins of the\nyellow buckskin, trimmed with beads and porcupine quills.\n\nThe boy was a noble little fellow; brave, warm-hearted, and merry. But\nthe Great Spirit saw that the doating love of father and mother was\nruining the gift He had placed in their hands.\n\nOne summer night the heat hung heavy over the land. It seemed an effort\nto breathe. Black clouds hung sullen in the sky, and in the west the\nlightning was flashing and the thunder was rumbling. \u201cThere will be much\nwind and rain to-night. Where is our son?\u201d said the father.\n\n\u201cDown on the river\u2019s bank asleep,\u201d answered his mother. \u201cI sat long\nbeside him, and brushed away the stinging insects that annoyed him. He\nhas taken off his moccasins, the heat is so great, and his little feet\nare bare. He is very beautiful as he sleeps. I will lift him without\nwaking him, and bear him into the storm cave.\u201d\n\nShe hastened quickly down to the river, for the storm was rapidly\napproaching. Just as her hands reached down to clasp her boy, there came\na vivid flash of lightning, and two strong hands (the hands of the\nspirit who lives in the water) reached up, and grasping the boy firmly,\ndrew him down under the water.\n\nWhere, but a moment before, the rosy, dreaming boy was lying, was only\nthe print of his body in the grass, and the two little yellow moccasins,\nshining like gold.\n\nThe mother gave a scream; the father came bounding to the spot; together\nthey sprang into the water, and dived again and again, striving to find\ntheir son. The storm broke over the river in great fury, tearing off\ngreat limbs of trees, and dashing their tepee to the ground; but neither\nknew that it stormed. Finally, half dead, and heart-broken, they sought\nthe bank. The mother sat down and gathered the little moccasins to her\nheart. \u201cMy son, my son! O spirit of the river, give him back to us!\u201d she\nmoaned.\n\nThe father arose and straightened himself, and, looking into the dark\nsky, he said: \u201cIt is the will of the Great Spirit. He gave him to us. He\nhas taken him away again.\u201d Turning, he walked away into the forest.\n\nBut the mother sat there beside the river many days, moaning, \u201cMy son,\nmy son.\u201d No food passed her lips, no sleep came to her eyes; and always\nshe kissed and clasped to her heart the little moccasins.\n\nOne night, when the stars were flashing in splendor, she raised her eyes\nto the sky, and beheld that pathway made of star-dust, that leads to the\nspirit land. And while she gazed, longing to follow it, she felt the\npressure of a small hand on her shoulder. She turned, to meet the\nloving, smiling gaze of her son.\n\n\u201cO Great Spirit, I thank thee! The dead is alive again! O my son, I\ngrieved for thee! Why didst thou stay away so long?\u201d\n\nAnd the boy said, \u201cCome, dear mother; we are to follow yonder path\nto-night,\u201d pointing upward. \u201cI have come for thee, because thy weeping\ngrieves the happy ones.\u201d\n\nThen gladly the mother placed her hand in that small clasp; but first\nshe said: \u201cStay, dear child; here are thy moccasins. Thou wilt need\nthem; the way may be rough.\u201d\n\nThe boy, laughing, held up to her gaze one of his feet, on which flashed\nand glowed a moccasin of shining yellow, like the color of a star, and\nhe said, \u201cLay down the moccasins, dear, and thou shalt see how a\nmother\u2019s love shall be remembered.\u201d\n\nShe placed them on the ground, and at once a plant sprang up beneath\nthem. It grew rapidly, and on its highest branches the moccasins were\nfastened. They shrank in size, and changed into flowers, keeping,\nhowever, their original shape and color. And the boy said, \u201cThese\nflowers shall bloom on forever beside this shining river; long after the\nred man is gone, they shall bloom.\u201d\n\nThen, wondering and happy, the mother followed her son along the\nstar-strewn path to the spirit land; and not many moons later, the\nfather, from the midst of battle, went to them.\n\nLong ago, the Indians left the banks of the beautiful river, but the\nyellow flowers bloom on beside its clear waters; and the white children\ncall them the \u201cOrchid,\u201d or \u201cLady\u2019s Slipper,\u201d or give them their real\nname, the \u201cIndian Moccasins.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n III.\n THE LITTLE GHOST WHO LAUGHED.\n\n\nDolores sat beside Aunt Polly, in the door of the cabin. The setting sun\nshone on her yellow curls, changing her into a veritable \u201cGoldilocks,\u201d\npeeped into her blue eyes, until she was obliged to shut them. It shone\non Aunt Polly\u2019s black face, causing it to glisten like black satin, and\non her clean calico dress and white apron; for this was Sunday evening,\nand she was resting from her labors.\n\nAcross the fields, its light was reflected from the roof and chimneys of\n\u201cThe House,\u201d as Aunt Polly called it; for there she had lived as a slave\nbefore the war, and to her it was the only house of importance in the\nneighborhood. Dolores watched the sun climb from the roof and chimneys\nto the gilded points of the lightning-rods, turning them to flashing\nspear points. Then it was gone; and she breathed a sigh.\n\nAunt Polly heard it. \u201cWhat\u2019s the mattah, honey girl?\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m lonesome, Aunt Polly; won\u2019t you tell me \u2019bout the little ghost girl\nup at the house?\u201d\n\n\u201cNow, sugah, I have to be away from home all day to-morrow, and you\u2019ll\nbe here alone; that story will make you feel skeery.\u201d\n\n\u201cI won\u2019t be afraid. Besides, I\u2019ll go to school, maybe.\u201d\n\n\u201cBless yo heart now, will you? Well, I\u2019ll tell you then, \u2019cause yo goin\u2019\nto be so good. Well, honey, when I was a young girl, I lived up at The\nHouse; that was befo\u2019 the wah. I was one of the house servants, sort of\nwaitin\u2019 maid, and table maid, too. Well, one stormy night, I was in the\ndinin\u2019-room, settin\u2019 the dinnah table. The rain and sleet was bangin\u2019\naginst the windows, and it was growin\u2019 mighty dark. I thought I\u2019d go out\nand shut the shuttahs; I thought I\u2019d run out the front doah, and close\nthe pahlor shuttahs too. The lamp wasn\u2019t lit in the hall yet, and as I\nwent through, it seemed to me I saw somethin\u2019 white curled up on the\nlower stair. I opened the front doah so that I could see bettah what it\nwas, and then I turned and went to it, and there, cuddled all up in a\nheap, was a strange little girl. She had a little peaked white face and\ngreat blue eyes, and her hair was about the coloh of you-all\u2019s. She had\non a little white dress, and had somethin\u2019 in her hands\u2014looked like a\nman\u2019s cap, and it was all torn and bloody; and there was blood on her\ndress.\n\n\u201c\u2018My land, honey, whar you come from?\u2019 I says, and she huddled down\ncloser than ever, and began to cry just like her heart was most broke. I\nstooped down to pick her up in my ahms\u201d\u2014Aunt Polly\u2019s voice sank to a\nwhisper\u2014\u201cand\u2014she\u2014wasn\u2019t\u2014there. I rubbed my eyes and looked agin, then I\nrun to the doah and looked out; but they wasn\u2019t nobody about. Then I got\nso skeered I banged the doah shut and run whoopin\u2019 and screamin\u2019 to the\nkitchen. Aunt Susan, the cook, grab me by the ahm. \u2018Shut yo haid, girl,\nand tell me wha\u2019s de mattah,\u2019 she said. So I done told her all about it,\nand she just dropped all in a heap and she say: \u2018O my Lawd, O my deah\nLawd, the judgment am a comin\u2019 agin! Tell me, gal, was dat baby laughin\u2019\nor cryin\u2019?\u2019 and I say, \u2018Cryin\u2019;\u2019 and she say, \u2018Ooh, my poo\u2019 mistess;\u2019\nand I said, \u2018Oh, Aunt Susan, what is it?\u2019 She say: \u2018Gal, you done see a\nghost. Dat\u2019s no baptized baby; dat\u2019s a poo\u2019 child dat was muhdard yeahs\nand yeahs ago by some wicked limb of dis fambly, fo\u2019 to get its money.\nWhenever dat child comes here a weepin\u2019 and a moanin\u2019, dat\u2019s de sign of\na death; if it comes a laughin\u2019, den it brings good luck to we-alls.\u2019\n\n\u201cWell, I was that skeered to think I\u2019d done seen a ghost, that I shuck\nall over, and couldn\u2019t wait on the table. Well, honey, I kep\u2019 a waitin\u2019\nfor a death or somefin as bad; and \u2019bout a week later, my mastah\u2019s\noldest boy was out huntin\u2019, and the gun went off too soon, and blowed\nthe top of his haid plum off. They brought his torn and bloody cap home.\nI\u2019d\u2014seen\u2014it\u2014before.\n\n\u201cAftah that, I was always watchin\u2019 for that ghost-child, but I nevah\nseen her no more. But she came after that, fo\u2019 my old mastah died; and\nthere was othah troubles. Finally, aftah the wah, my old mistress moved\nto the city with young Mistah Tom, and left the house in the care of the\noverseeah of the plantation. Once a yeah Mistah Tom comes down and stays\na week or so, lookin\u2019 aftah things. He used to bring a lot of company\nwith him, but since ole Miss died, he\u2019s sobered down; don\u2019t seem to cah\nfo\u2019 company no more.\n\n\u201cAnd now, sugah, you come go to baid, so you can get up early, and go to\nschool.\u201d\n\n\u201cAunt Polly, tell me first, do please tell me, where did you get me?\u201d\n\nAunt Polly looked at her doubtfully.\n\n\u201cI dunno as you need to know. But yo ma was a lady, and yo pa a\ngentleman. You come of a good stock. Sometime I\u2019ll tell you, but not\nnow; so you go to sleep.\u201d\n\nThe next morning Aunt Polly was up and away early. She left a dainty\nbreakfast spread out for Dolores, and a little tin pail packed with a\nlunch for her school dinner. Dolores wakened later and lay debating the\nquestion of school. It is needless to say that Aunt Polly, with her lax\ngovernment and her fondness for the child, was spoiling her completely.\nDolores was a law unto herself, and came and went as she pleased. She\nwas looked down upon by the girls at school, because she lived with Aunt\nPolly. She did not tell this to her, for she knew she would resent it\nbitterly. So she avoided them as much as possible, and many hours when\nAunt Polly supposed that she was at school, she was wandering in the\nwoods and fields.\n\nShe thought of her half promise given the night before in exchange for\nthe ghost story, and resolved that she would go.\n\n\u201cMy mother was a lady, and my father a gentleman; then why need I care\nfor those white trash? Aunt Polly is better than they are. I reckon I\u2019d\nbetter go. And I\u2019ll go past the house, and peek in at the hall where\nAunt Polly saw the ghost.\u201d\n\nSo she hurriedly put away her breakfast dishes, tidied up her room,\nlocked the door, hid the key, and started on her way to school. She\ncrossed the field and came to the old house by a path through a grove of\nold trees. This side of the house was never used; the shutters were\nclosed; and the trees grew so close to the house that their great\nbranches scraped against the walls, causing a creaking, groaning noise\nwhen the wind blew, that had frightened the timid colored people away\nfrom the neighborhood.\n\nDolores put down her pail and books. She sat down a moment to rest in\nthe shade, for the sun was hot. That resting-spell was the undoing of\nher good resolutions; for, glancing above her, she discovered a squirrel\nwatching her, who began to chatter, as soon as he knew that she had seen\nhim.\n\n\u201cOh, you pretty dear, come down and I\u2019ll feed you,\u201d she said; and then\nshe thought, \u201cI wonder if he has a nest up there; I\u2019m going to find\nout.\u201d And soon she was among the lower branches of the tree, steadily\nworking her way to the top.\n\nThe squirrel turned with a jerk and a squeak, and disappeared through an\nopen window that the branches had concealed from below. Dolores,\nfollowing, found that one shutter was gone, and that the wind, during\nsome storm, had forced in the sash, while a limb had grown in through\nthe window. She pushed her way in past the limb, in spite of the\nsquirrel\u2019s remonstrance, and found herself in a large attic, which\nextended over the entire unused wing of the house. The squirrel\nscampered up the side of the window-casing, and sat scolding her from\nabove.\n\nThe attic was filled with a rich treasure-trove for Dolores. There were\nold spinning-wheels, broken chairs, an empty cradle, a great old\nfour-posted bed, and a number of trunks and boxes to rummage in. That\nwas as far as she could see in the gloom, but no doubt beyond her range\nof vision were more delights. What a lovely place in which to play! The\ncradle for her dolls, an old clock to take to pieces, and dozens of old\ngarments to dress up in. Several wonderfully queer old bonnets hung\nagainst the wall. She put on one (after shaking off the layer of dust\nwith which it was coated), and glanced in a broken mirror to see the\neffect. Her merry laugh echoed through the attic as she beheld her face\nframed by the bonnet. And then she heard a sharp exclamation from the\nroom beneath her, the scurrying of feet, and the slamming of a door.\n\nCrouching down behind the cradle, she waited developments; but no one\ncame; so in a little while she grew bold again.\n\n\u201cI think I won\u2019t go to school after all. I reckon it\u2019s too late, anyway;\nI\u2019ll stay here to-day. But first, I must go back and get my dinner-pail\nand books. I can study up here just as well as at school.\u201d\n\nAnd soon Dolores, watched by the protesting squirrel, had slid down the\ntree, secured her books and dinner-pail in her apron, and was back\nagain. And then began her delightful, if naughty, day. She wound up the\nclock, polished up the broken mirror, pulled the lighter articles of\nfurniture here and there, tried the spinning-wheel, and finally settled\ndown to the delightful task of exploring the boxes and chests.\n\nIn the meantime, down below, in the kitchen of the old house, an excited\ngroup of colored people were talking. Aunt Polly was the centre of the\ngroup, and was relating, for the benefit of a new comer, her experience.\n\n\u201cI tell you, I done heerd that ghost-child agin. No, I didn\u2019t see it,\nbut I heerd it. I went ovah to the noth wing to put away that ar seed,\nas Mistah Jones told me to do, and while I was in that dark, lonesome\nbedroom above the pahlor, I heerd a child laugh, just as cleah and sweet\nas a bird; it sounded just right beside me. Oh, I was so skeered, I run\nand banged the doah after me. You don\u2019t ketch this child goin\u2019 in that\npawt of the house no moah.\u201d\n\n\u201cAunt Polly,\u201d asked one breathless listener, \u201cwasn\u2019t that the room whar\nthe murdah was committed?\u201d\n\n\u201cYas, em; yes indeedy; the poor child was strangled in its sleep.\u201d\n\nJust then the voice of Mr. Jones was heard. \u201cHere, hurry up in there;\ngot too much to do to stand here gabbling. You know Mister Tom comes\nto-night; he wants this place to be shining.\u201d Each one hurried off to\nher work. Aunt Polly, with a toss of her head and a sniff, proceeded\nleisurely to hang out the white curtains and bed-linen she was doing up\nagainst the arrival of her beloved Mistah Tom.\n\nDolores ate her dinner when she became hungry, gave some of it to the\nsquirrel, and played on until the shadows in the attic indicated that\nevening was coming. Then she scrambled down and ran for home. She had\ntime to brush the dust from her clothes, wash her face and hands, and\nlie down on the bed and fall asleep before Aunt Polly returned. By the\ntime supper was ready and Dolores awakened, Aunt Polly had forgotten to\nask about the school, in her eagerness to tell the important news that\nMistah Tom was coming, and that she had heard the little ghost-girl\u2019s\nlaugh. And in a little while Dolores again had forgotten everything in\nthe dreamless sleep which comes to tired children whether they are good\nor bad.\n\nShe awoke in the morning to find Aunt Polly already gone. Not long\nafter, the little truant followed and, climbing her sylvan stairway, was\nsoon in the delightful attic. She had explored all but one chest, that\nwas pushed under the eaves. The other chests had yielded up a rich\ntreasure, but she was curious to know what they all contained before she\nenjoyed the contents. So the little box was pushed close to the window,\nfor it was growing dark in the attic. Dolores could hear the rumble of\nthunder, and the rain was beginning to patter on the shingles; she was\nnot the least afraid of a storm, and proceeded leisurely with her task.\nThe little chest was locked, but the key hung obligingly tied to one of\nthe handles by a string. She unlocked it, and raised the lid. Who can\nsay what loving, breaking heart looked last into that little box? For,\ncarefully folded away, with dead roses in each dainty garment, was a\nlittle girl\u2019s wardrobe, complete,\u2014the finest linen undergarments,\ntrimmed with delicate laces, little white silk clocked stockings, little\nheelless slippers of blue and red kid, all faded and spotted with age\nand mould; the loveliest little lace-trimmed dresses with short waists,\npuffed sleeves, and long skirts. Dolores hesitated a moment before\nexamining them. On top of them was placed a note in a woman\u2019s hand. She\nlaid it aside and did not read it, until she had finished the\nexamination. She opened it at last, and read, \u201cThis is the wardrobe of\nmy dear little dead daughter Dolores.\u201d\n\nShe closed the lid down gently, sprang up, and went to the window. \u201cI\nmust go home; I don\u2019t like this old attic. I\u2019ve been a wicked girl to\ncome here. But how did that little dead girl come to have my name?\u201d\n\nShe started to climb through the window, and saw that it was raining\nvery hard; a steady downpour that promised to last all day. She returned\nto the chest, laid the note carefully aside, and again lifted out and\nunfolded each garment. How beautiful they were! Time had given them the\ndelicate, mellow tint of old ivory. Dolores dearly enjoyed pretty\nclothes, and had possessed but few in her short life. She was charmed by\ntheir dainty quaintness.\n\n\u201cThey look like they\u2019d just fit me\u2014I\u2019m going to try on a suit\u2014the lady\nwould not care\u2014I\u2019ll be very careful of them.\u201d\n\nSo on went the pretty underclothing, the white silk stockings, and\nlittle heelless slippers. Then over her head she slipped a little white\ndress, hemstitched and hand embroidered. Her hair, which Aunt Polly kept\ntightly braided, was loosened in soft waves around her face and neck.\nThe broken mirror revealed a little maid of the beginning of the\nnineteenth century; such a charming little maid, that Dolores was\ndelighted with the vision.\n\n\u201cMy, but she\u2019s sweet; Little Dolores, do you like coming back to life?\u201d\n\nAnd then her busy brain recalled the story of the little ghost-girl. \u201cI\nhave a great mind to go downstairs. If any one sees me, I can run back.\u201d\nShe looked questioningly at the little figure in the glass. \u201cDolores,\nshall I go? You tell me, for I am you to-day.\u201d The little shadow nodded.\n\u201cVery well, then, I will.\u201d\n\nShe went to a door she had noticed, tried it, found it unlocked, and\nventured out.\n\nA flight of stairs led down into a narrow corridor, flanked on each side\nby closed doors, and this led into the main hall. She stole shyly out\ninto this, and proceeded toward the great stairway; but to reach it, she\nhad to pass an open door. Some one was moving leisurely about in the\nroom. She peeped in, and saw a young colored man unpacking his master\u2019s\nclothes. He had carefully arranged the toilet articles on the\ndressing-case, and was trying one of the silver-backed brushes on his\ncurly locks, with an unlit cigar between his teeth, evidently extracted\nfrom a full box on the dressing-case.\n\nDolores swung the door slowly open, and the man, seeing its reflection\nin the mirror, turned and confronted her, in her quaint dress, standing\nin the soft gloom of the hall. She was pointing a threatening finger at\nthe stolen cigar, frowning and biting her lips to keep from laughing, as\nshe saw the horrified look on his face. Evidently, he had heard of the\nlittle ghost; the cigar fell from his lips, and his knees knocked\ntogether: he was too frightened to speak.\n\nWhen Dolores could control her face no longer she turned, and ran back\nto the attic. The colored man fled to the kitchen, declaring that he had\nseen the ghost; and that if Mass Tom didn\u2019t go back to the city, he\nwould, for he wasn\u2019t goin\u2019 to stay in no old house full of ghosts.\n\nAunt Polly met her Mr. Tom, on his return from hunting, at the door, and\ntold him the marvellous tale.\n\n\u201cWait till I change my clothes, Aunt Polly, and then come to the little\nlibrary, if there\u2019s a fire there, for I am chilly; I\u2019ll hear all about\nit then;\u201d and he hurried upstairs.\n\nIn the meantime, naughty Dolores had tired of the attic, and, having\nenjoyed her first adventure, had sallied forth to meet others. Not\nencountering any one, she ventured down the wide stairs, peeped into\nnumerous rooms, and opening a door into a very cosy one, small and snug,\nwith a fire burning on the hearth, she drew a big cushioned chair in\nfront of it, sat down to watch it, and fell asleep. About an hour later,\nAunt Polly was met in the hall by Mister Tom, who looked very much\nsurprised.\n\n\u201cCome into the library, quick, Auntie; I\u2019ve found the little ghost,\u201d he\nwhispered. Aunt Polly followed, her knees trembling beneath her. Seeing\nthe little figure in the chair, she started for the door, but thought\nbetter of it, and ventured nearer. Getting a good look at the ghost, she\nsaw it was Dolores, and sank limply down by her on her knees.\n\n\u201cWell, well, well, I declare for it, it\u2019s the hand of the Lord,\u201d she\nwhispered.\n\n\u201cWho is she, Aunt Polly, and where\u2019d she come from?\u201d\n\n\u201cShe belongs to this fambly, Mistah Tom, and I\u2019ll tell you by and by\nwhar she come from; but whar she got them clothes, or how she got in\nhere, is more than I can tell you.\u201d\n\nJust then Dolores stirred in her sleep, opened her eyes, and seeing them\nwatching her, jumped to her feet.\n\n\u201cIs this Mr. Tom? I am the little ghost-girl, and I bring you good\nfortune;\u201d and she looked up into his face and laughed.\n\nAunt Polly grunted, \u201cYou need a good lambastin\u2019 fo\u2019 skeerin\u2019 me so,\u201d she\nsaid wrathfully.\n\nNot long after, Dolores and Aunt Polly went to live with Mr. Tom. A\nwrong was righted, and the little ghost-girl walked no more.\n\n\n\n\n IV.\n TITANIA\u2019S MAID OF HONOR.\n\n\n\u201cMammy, I wish dis yer rabbit could talk to me; \u2019pears like he wanted to\ntell me somefin\u2019.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, Mateel, yo take him in yo arms and lay down on yo baid, and I\u2019s a\ngoin\u2019 to conjur\u2019 dat rabbit so he kin talk to yo-alls.\u201d\n\nThe little girl took her pet in her arms and lay down, holding the soft\nfurry ball close to her ear. The old mammy, whose duty it was to take\ncare of the little darkies on the plantation while their mothers were at\nwork in the field or the house, sat down by the child, and slowly,\nsoothingly, passed her hand over the little dark head; presently the\nlarge eyes closed, and half awake, half asleep, Mateel heard her say,\u2014\n\n\u201cNow, Mistah Rabbit, tell Mateel yo news.\u201d\n\nAnd to her intense surprise, the rabbit, slipping from her arms, sat\nback on his haunches, and, regarding her intently, commenced:\u2014\n\n\u201cMateel, have you ever heard of the fairies? And do you know where they\nlive?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, Mistah Rabbit. What is they for, and what do they look like?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, I haven\u2019t time to tell you; I\u2019m due in Fairyland now. Do you want\nto go with me? Because if you do, you must come at once.\u201d\n\nAnd the rabbit began to hop impatiently toward the door.\n\nMateel joyfully slipped from her bed and followed him out of the house.\nThe rabbit hopped ahead until they reached the thick shade of the woods\nthat grew close to the little cabin. Here he paused, and, turning to\nMateel, said briefly,\u2014\n\n\u201cGive me your hand.\u201d\n\nMateel stooped down and seized his paw, when, to her surprise, she felt\nherself grow smaller, or the world larger; the trees seemed as tall as\nthe clouds; the grass and leaves that grew among them reached far above\nher head.\n\nThe rabbit now remarked,\u2014\n\n\u201cWe must go through a bit of rough country just here, so perhaps you had\nbetter hold tight to one of my ears.\u201d\n\nMateel, in some alarm, grasped the friendly ear, and felt herself lifted\nalong in tremendous jumps and leaps, over great gnarled roots, over\nrocks and briers, until her strength and patience were all but\nexhausted. Finally, they dived down what seemed the bed of a dead\nstreamlet, came to a deep pool of water, which the rabbit took at one\nflying leap with Mateel clasped in his forepaws, and they found\nthemselves in a wondrous world.\n\nIt was Fairyland. Where is it? and how shall we find it? Ah, that is the\nmystery; but of this you may be sure,\u2014wherever children are, close to\ntheir homes lies Fairyland; and if only the small wild things of the\nwood could talk to you, perhaps you might visit it, as Mateel did.\n\nShe found herself in a court or pleasance, beautifully carpeted with the\nrarest moss. The richest, softest shades of brown, of fawn color, of old\nrose, and of tenderest green, mingled and blended in its coloring.\nMateel sank down on her knees and gazed around. A soft green tint was\nover everything. It came through the leaves that closely roofed it over.\nThese were supported by straight trunks, that arose to a great height,\nwhere they separated into two stems; and each stem bore a leaf that\noverlapped its neighbor; at the point where the stems separated, an\nimmense creamy white blossom with a golden centre hung down like a bell.\n\n\u201cWhy, they are May apple blossoms,\u201d cried Mateel, clapping her hands in\necstasy, \u201cOh, how lovely! how lovely! May apple plants as large as\ntrees.\u201d\n\nNot a ray of sunlight filtered through the large leaves; a delicious\nsense of peace pervaded the perfumed twilight, and Mateel, who was\nalways tired lately, felt that she could rest here, and gave a happy\nsigh.\n\nAnd while she rested and waited for something lovely to happen, she\nheard the rain falling on the leaves of trees somewhere at a great\ndistance above her.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s raining, Mateel, but you needn\u2019t worry; the rain never reaches\nhere,\u201d said the rabbit.\n\n\u201cI am not worrying,\u201d said Mateel, contentedly.\n\n\u201cThe rain is almost over, the sun is setting clear. It will be starlight\nsoon, and then will come the fairies. But now I must leave you; try to\nsleep and rest, and when the fairy queen comes, I shall be in her train,\nand will present you.\u201d\n\nSo Mateel contentedly sank back into the soft moss, and let her tired\nlittle body rest, while the rain played her a soothing lullaby. The soft\nlight grew more dim, and a sweet sleep came to her eyes.\n\nWhen she awoke it was growing very dark in the fairies\u2019 court. Mateel\nsat straight up and looked about her. From far distant depths of the\nwood tiny men were coming, bearing little lamps, which Mateel saw were\nfireflies and glowworms; these they placed in the cups of the great\nflowers, and swung in festoons between the trunks of the fairy trees.\nThe little men disappeared, and she was again alone; but now the court\nwas flooded with light soft and radiant, just the kind of light in which\nfairies look their best.\n\nAnd while she sat enfolded in this soft light, from a distance came the\nsweetest music that mortal ear ever listened to. Indeed, but few mortals\nhave heard its exquisite cadence. There was one man, who lived long ago,\nwhen people knew that there were fairies and shuddered at real ghosts\nand witches, who not only heard the fairy music, but heard and\nremembered their songs, and has written them down in a beautiful poem,\nand named it \u201cA Midsummer Night\u2019s Dream.\u201d So Mateel sat and listened,\nwhile the music grew clearer and louder; and presently a wonderful\nprocession came into view. First came the musicians; and will you\nbelieve it?\u2014they were crickets and cicadas. But they were playing in\nFairyland, for the king and queen of the fairies; and the music they\ngive to fairies is different from that which they give to mortals. Close\nafter the musicians marched a regiment of fairy guards to their\nmajesties; and then came grandly dressed noblemen, stepping backward and\nbowing at each step; and then, under a canopy of richest velvet made\nfrom pansy blossoms, came Oberon and Titania! The queen was all in\nwhite; her dress of lily petals was trimmed with dewdrops; back of her\nshoulders two gauzy white wings shimmered and glowed with each graceful\nmotion; on her dainty head sparkled a crown of gleaming points of light;\nher arms were bare, and in her hand she carried a shining wand.\n\nKing Oberon was in blue armor that shone like sapphires with every\nmotion; it was made from the shells of blue beetles. After them came a\nmultitude of fairies; pretty ladies of the court in brilliant\nflower-dresses, with dainty wings at their shoulders. They reminded\nMateel of a great flock of butterflies. The fairy men were, like the\nking, in armor.\n\nMateel eagerly looked for the rabbit, and saw him walking with a group\nof wise-looking fairies, who were undoubtedly learned judges and\nphilosophers.\n\nThe bright procession marched once around the court, and then the queen\nand king seated themselves on a green bank spread with violets; a\nshining little herald announced that the fairy revels would begin.\n\nBut waving his hand, the king said gravely, \u201cWe will first hear the\narguments, and perhaps the witnesses, in the case of the accused maid,\nonce lady-in-waiting to our gracious queen.\u201d\n\nHere the queen put a lovely cobweb handkerchief to her eyes, and said:\u2014\n\n\u201cThey may bring all the evidence they want to, but I know that she is\ninnocent; I am sure that Katie didn\u2019t;\u201d and she stamped her little foot.\n\nThen the king said soothingly, \u201cWell, well, dear, don\u2019t be too positive;\nperhaps Katie did.\u201d\n\nThe queen would have answered, but just then the rabbit rose and bowed,\nand the king, who seemed slightly nervous, cried,\u2014\n\n\u201cOur wise and learned friend the rabbit may speak.\u201d\n\nAnd the rabbit, bowing again, made an eloquent speech, in which he said\nthat although the evidence was very strong for and against the\ndefendant, yet he would beg a postponement of a decision until the\nlearned counsel had found the answer to an unimportant question, which\nwas, What did Katie do?\n\nThe king answered that perhaps it might be as well; for although\nconvinced in his own mind that Katie did, he was anxious to allow her\nevery chance to re-establish her good character.\n\nThe queen declared that there was no use in having the trial at all, as,\nwhatever it was she was accused of, Katie didn\u2019t, didn\u2019t, didn\u2019t; and\nTitania was beginning to look vexed, when the rabbit, bowing again,\nasked if the queen had chosen any one to fill Katie\u2019s place during her\n(he hoped) temporary absence.\n\nThe queen had not, for she said,\u2014\n\n\u201cKatie is a changeling, and where may I find another mortal?\u201d\n\nThe rabbit, bowing low with his paw on his heart, asked permission to\ntell Titania a story, and the queen sighed, and answered,\u2014\n\n\u201cYes, if it\u2019s not very long.\u201d\n\nSo the rabbit began:\u2014\n\n\u201cThere was once a boy, a mortal, who was out hunting. He had gone deep\ninto the woods; night was coming fast; like all boys, he had a fear of\nthe dark and lonely woods. He was walking very fast, and whistling (as\nmortals do to keep up their courage), when he heard a child crying; he\nlistened, and then, thinking of wild animals, hurried on faster than\never. But the crying grew louder, and presently, right in his path under\na huge linden tree, he found a little child, just able to walk alone,\nand to talk a little. It was unlike any child he had ever seen: brown\nhair, brown eyes, and brown skin. It was dressed in some strange silky\nmaterial, and round its neck was a necklace of the claws of some wild\nanimal.\n\n\u201cThe boy picked the little one up and carried it home. It was handed\nover to the old colored woman who has charge of the little colored\nchildren on the plantation. The boy claimed the child as his slave, and\nnamed her Matilde, which usage has changed to Mateel.\n\n\u201cShe has lived, but not thrived, on the coarse fare and rough usage\naccorded the other little ones. She was petted and noticed by the young\nmaster for a day or two, then forgotten for many more. As the years pass\nshe will have great beauty. She has never had a friend but her young\nmaster.\n\n\u201cYour Majesty is generous and kind; would not the little maid take\nKatie\u2019s place?\u201d\n\nThen the queen, springing to her feet, exclaimed:\u2014\n\n\u201cNo, she cannot take Katie\u2019s place; no one can do that; but she shall\nhave her own place in my train, close at my right hand. Where is the\nchild; have you brought her to Fairyland?\u201d And the rabbit said, \u201cI have\nbrought her, gracious queen.\u201d\n\nSo Mateel was brought into the presence of the king and queen and their\ncourt, and the queen, touching her with her shining wand, changed her\ninto a bonny brown fairy, with shining brown eyes, and a beautiful dress\nmade of petals of the red rose; for she was among the maids of honor\nmost dearly loved by Titania. But the question of Katie\u2019s guilt or\ninnocence is still unsettled; for on summer nights you will hear the\nfairy lawyers still declaring that \u201cKatie did\u201d and \u201cKatie didn\u2019t.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n V.\n BRAN, THE WOLF DOG.\n\n\nOn a high cliff overlooking the ocean, on the western coast of Ireland,\nstand the ruins of an old castle. The short grass grows on the floor of\nthe great hall, and the wind sighs and howls through its broken walls,\nwith a sound half human, half animal.\n\nThe peasants for generations have named it \u201cThe Wolf\u2019s Castle.\u201d Even\nlong years ago, when it was tenanted by kindly folk and was running over\nwith life and happiness, it had already earned its grim name.\n\nMax had been out hunting. He had spent the day in the woods and fields,\nand now as night fell, dark and lowering, he hastened his steps. The\nfirst scattering drops of rain struck his face, and the wind was rising.\nIt moaned and howled like the distant cry of a wolf; it made Max feel\nstrangely nervous and frightened. \u201cFrightened!\u201d\u2014he laughed at the\nthought. \u201cA boy of twelve frightened by the wind!\u201d\n\nAnd yet, listen! the patter of the rain (coming faster now) sounds on\nthe leaves like the stealthy tread of some animal.\n\n\u201cIf it is a wolf, it is the ghost of one; for there are no wolves in\nthis country now,\u201d thought Max. \u201cHow like a sigh from human lips the\nwind sounds!\u201d\n\n\u201cHome at last, I am thankful to say;\u201d and Max ran swiftly round to the\nback door. As he closed it, the wind gave a long-drawn wail, and he\nalmost fancied a hand strove to draw him back into the darkness.\n\n\u201cI think I need my supper,\u201d thought he. \u201cFasting makes a fellow\nlight-headed.\u201d\n\nEntering the kitchen with exultant heart but studied indifference, he\nthrew his game down on the table before the admiring cook, and then\nhastened to change his dress. Soon, over a good supper, he had forgotten\nthe uncanny night outside, though the wind still howled and the rain\nbeat against the window.\n\nAfter supper Max went into the library. How cosy and comfortable it was,\nwith a fire in the grate, an easy-chair drawn in front of it, and the\nshadows dancing over books and pictures!\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll sit here in front of the fire and rest,\u201d thought he. He sat there\nmentally reviewing the day\u2019s sport. \u201cI need a good dog,\u201d he said. \u201cI\nmust have one. Why, what is that?\u201d For there, lying in front of the\nfire, basking in the heat, was an immense dog, with shaggy coat and\npointed ears. Max called to him:\u2014\n\n\u201cHere, old fellow; here, Bran,\u2014why, he knows his name. How did I come to\nknow it, I wonder!\u201d For at the first call, the dog had raised his head\nand beat his great tail upon the floor. At the mention of his name he\nsprang to his feet, and came crouching and trembling with joy to lick\nthe hands and shoes of the lad.\n\n\u201cWhat is it then, good dog? Tell me your story, for I\u2019m sure you have\none to tell,\u201d coaxed Max.\n\nDid he tell it, or did Max dream? For as the dog rested his head on the\nboy\u2019s knee and looked with liquid, loving eyes into his face, Max\nglanced round the room and saw a strange transformation: the walls\nwidened, the ceiling rose to a greater height, and was crossed by great\nblack beams. On the walls hung shields, spears, great swords, and\nnumerous other articles of war and of the chase.\n\nThe polished grate had grown into an immense fireplace, and the floor\nwas covered with what Max supposed were rushes. But the people in the\nroom interested him most of all. On the opposite side of the fireplace,\nin a great carven chair, sat a lady, young and very lovely,\u2014her dress\nsome rich dark green material clasped at the throat and waist by heavy\ngolden clasps, her bare arms heavy with gold armlets, her long black\nhair falling in shining waves around her, and her eyes,\u2014the sea was in\nthem,\u2014gray or dark blue, and in moments of anger flashing greenish\nyellow like the eyes of some animal.\n\nShe sat with her elbow on the arm of her chair, her head resting on her\nhand, looking into the fire and listening to the music of an ancient\nharper, who sat in the background, softly striking the chords of his\nharp.\n\nThe firelight, dancing over the room, caused strange shadows; and Max\nfancied himself one of the shadows, for his chair was filled by a boy of\nhis own age, sitting just as he had been sitting, with the great dog\u2019s\nhead on his knee; and notwithstanding his strange dress, Max started\nwith a feeling almost of terror, for the boy was his double; it was like\nseeing himself in the glass.\n\nA storm was raging around the castle, and above the soft music of the\nharp could be heard the rush of the wind, and the roar of the ocean\ndashing at the foot of the cliff.\n\nThe lady shivered and glanced round the room. \u201cI wish your father were\nhome, Patrick. How glad I shall be when peace comes again.\u201d\n\n\u201cI wish I were old enough to lead the clan to battle, then father could\nremain with you.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat? become a dotard? Out upon you!\u201d Her eyes flashed at the boy, and\nthe dog, raising his head, gave a low growl. \u201cWhy do you not have that\nbeast speared? You know I hate him,\u201d said the lady.\n\n\u201cHe was given to me (as you know) by the good fathers at the monastery.\nThey told me always to cherish Bran, for he would save me from demons,\nas well as wolves. See the silver crosses on his collar. Nothing can\nharm us while Bran is here.\u201d\n\nThe lady cast a look of fear and hatred at the boy and the dog. \u201cBe not\ntoo sure,\u201d she said. Springing to her feet, she walked back and forth\nthrough the room. Her step was smooth and graceful; she made no sound on\nthe rushes as she walked.\n\nPresently there came a lull in the storm, and from somewhere back in the\nhills came the howl of a wolf. The lady paused and listened, then\nturning to the boy she said in a hurried manner, while her eyes sought\nthe floor: \u201cI feel ill; I am going to my room. Let no one disturb me\nto-morrow; if I need help I will call.\u201d And as she turned to leave the\nroom, suddenly she paused. \u201cGet you to bed, Patrick, chain up that dog,\nand\u2014you are the hope and pride of your father\u2014I lay my commands on\nyou\u2014do not hunt to-morrow.\u201d\n\nThen the lady was gone; but Bran was trembling and growling. \u201cHe heard\nthe wolves howl,\u201d said Patrick to the harper. The old man looked into\nthe fire and was silent.\n\nPresently Patrick arose, and bidding the harper good-night, went to his\nroom, closely followed at the heels by the great dog. To his surprise,\nawaiting him in his room was the housekeeper, an ancient woman, who had\nbeen his father\u2019s nurse. She rose when Patrick entered, and came toward\nhim.\n\n\u201cMy mind is troubled, child,\u201d she said; \u201cI must tell you my story.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is it, nurse?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is about my lady Eileen, your stepmother. May I speak?\u201d\n\n\u201cTell on,\u201d said Patrick. \u201cBut remember, I will hear nothing against my\nlady;\u201d for he well knew that the nurse bore the young stepmother no good\nwill.\n\n\u201cWell, listen, child. You were not here when your father married my\nlady. You had not left the monastery where your father placed you for\nsafety while he was beyond seas. I must tell you first how she came\nhere.\n\n\u201cFingal, the huntsman, told me that one day, when your father was\nhunting alone, he was followed all day by a wolf. It would lurk from one\nhillock to another, but when he turned to pursue it, it would disappear.\nFinally, at noon, when he sat down to rest, it came creeping and fawning\nto his feet. He was tempted to spear it, but did not, out of surprise.\nPresently it disappeared; but in the gloaming it returned, and followed\nhim clear to the gate of the castle. This my lord told to Fingal, and\ngreatly did he marvel. That same night,\u201d whispered the nurse,\nmysteriously, \u201ccame a call for help, and when the gate was opened, there\nstood a beautiful woman (my lady Eileen) who told how she had lost her\nway and her company as she journeyed to St. Hilda\u2019s shrine. Your father\nbade her enter, and she has abode here ever since; for soon he married\nher, and she became our lady.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, well, nurse, I knew of her coming, and I know also that she was\nno waif, but of a noble house and high lineage, as her coat of arms\nbears witness,\u2014a wolf couchant. But why explain all this to you? Right\nglad am I that she came to gladden my father\u2019s heart and brighten our\nhome.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, child, but listen; this only brings me to my story. My lady has\nstrange spells of illness, and always after a wolf howls.\u201d The boy\nstarted impatiently, but the old dame, laying her hand on his arm,\ncompelled him to listen. \u201cThe last time it was moonlight. I was up in\nthe turret opposite her window; her lamp was lit, and I saw a strange\nsight. My lady was springing with long leaps backward and forward over\nthe floor, and wringing her hands. Presently she went to her closet,\ntook from it a wolf\u2019s skin, slipped it over her dress, and I do not know\nhow she got outside the walls, but I saw her presently speeding away\nwith long leaps toward the hills.\u201d\n\n\u201cNurse, nurse, are you crazy? It is my lady of whom you speak. Never let\nme hear you breathe that story again. Think of my father\u2019s wrath, should\nthis come to his ears.\u201d\n\nStill the old woman shook her head and mumbled in wrath, and speedily\nbetook herself away; while Patrick, laughing heartily at her foolish\nstory, went to bed. But all night above the roar of the storm could be\nheard the howling of wolves.\n\nThe morning broke wild and gloomy; the castle seemed lonely and dreary\nwithout the cheery presence of Lady Eileen. Patrick went once to her\ndoor and knocked, but received no answer. Presently Fingal, the\nhuntsman, came in, armed for the chase. Bran followed close at his\nheels. \u201cWill my lord hunt to-day? The wolves were among the flocks last\nnight, the shepherds tell me.\u201d\n\nPatrick hesitated, remembering his lady\u2019s commands, but he decided\nfinally to go. Soon he was ready, and issuing from the gates, he and\nFingal and the dog were lost in the mists that enveloped the hills.\n\nLong did the household wait their return. Night was brooding: over the\ncastle when Fingal\u2019s horn was heard at the gate. In answer to the\nwarder\u2019s call his voice came sternly through the night: \u201cBring help, and\ncome quickly; my lady is dead.\u201d To the grievous outcries and questions\nthat arose he would return no answer.\n\nSoon an excited group were hurrying toward the hills, and presently the\ntorches revealed a sad sight. The first to come into view was their\nyoung lord, crouching on the ground, with the dog\u2019s head clasped in his\narms; Bran\u2019s throat had been torn and mangled, and he had been thrust\nthrough with a spear. Patrick was wounded and torn in many places; blood\nwas flowing down his face and throat, and his tears were falling on the\ndog\u2019s head. Not far away lay Lady Eileen, quite dead. Very beautiful and\nplacid she looked, as if sleeping; but on her throat were marks of great\nteeth.\n\n\u201cTake up my lady and bear her to the castle,\u201d said Patrick; \u201cas for\nBran, you must bury him here.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, child, he is only a dead dog,\u201d said the old nurse, fussily. But\nshe was met by a stern command to be quiet.\n\n\u201cDo as I bid you,\u201d he said to the servants, and then added, \u201cThe good\ndog went mad, and attacked my lady. I could not save her. Let my father\nknow this, should I die;\u201d and then the boy fell backward, fainting.\n\nTo the father it was a sad home-coming when, a few days later, he\nreturned from war,\u2014his beautiful young wife lying cold and dead in the\nchapel; his son very ill, calling always for Bran to save him from some\ndeadly peril.\n\nGreatly the household marvelled how their lady came to be out in the\nmist and the storm, alone on the hills; but Fingal, the huntsman, sought\nhis two gossips, the nurse and the harper, and told this tale of the\nday\u2019s hunt.\n\n\u201cWe had followed the wolves all day, and several had been killed. But\nthere was one gray wolf, who seemed the leader of the pack. This one my\nlord singled out, and followed from valley to valley. Bran would not\npursue it, but slunk and cowered after his master, whining pitifully.\nAll day we followed it, until, late in the gloaming, it had headed\ntoward the castle; and we pressed it hard. It finally turned at bay,\nand, springing at my lord\u2019s throat, it brought him to the ground. Bran\nwas lagging behind, and I was urging him forward. When he heard my\nlord\u2019s cries, the dog flew at the wolf. The beast then turned on the\ndog, and as I ran to help to spear it, I saw\u2014\u201d here the huntsman\u2019s voice\nsank into a whisper\u2014\u201cI saw no wolf, but my lady, tearing and rending the\ndog, while Bran\u2019s teeth were buried in her throat.\n\n\u201c\u2018Separate them! save them!\u2019 cried my lord; and I, not knowing what else\nto do, watched my chance and thrust the dog through the body. He sank\nwithout a groan, relaxing his grasp on my lady\u2019s throat. My lord gave a\ncry of despair, and my lady, hearing it, crept over to him and\nwhispering, \u2018Forgive; I could not help it,\u2019 sank dead at his feet. But\nLord Patrick passed her by, and threw himself down by the dog; while I,\nhalf distraught, came home for help.\u201d\n\nThen said the nurse, \u201cSee that you hold your tongue, man, for if this\nstory come to the ears of my lord, your body will want a head.\u201d\n\nBut from that time forth the Lady Eileen was spoken of as \u201cThe Wolf\nLady,\u201d and in time, the grim name of the \u201cWolf\u2019s Castle\u201d clung to her\nold home.\n\nIn the years that came and passed, Patrick became chief in his father\u2019s\nplace; and then a cairn was raised over the body of the faithful dog.\n\n\nMax awoke to find the fire out; shivered, and sprang to his feet. \u201cWhat\na strange dream!\u201d he said.\n\n\n\n\n VI.\n THE CORN FAIRY.\n\n\nLittle Theo sat up in bed and looked out of the window. \u201cIt\u2019s going to\nbe a nice day; the little girl will be in the corn. We will play all day\nlong. I must hurry; she doesn\u2019t like to wait.\u201d\n\nPresently, her breakfast eaten and her little tasks all finished, she\nwas running as fast as her feet would carry her toward the wide fields\nof Indian corn. In a few moments the great blades were rustling above\nher head. They formed green arches, down whose long vistas the little\ngirl eagerly peered. Soon, with a satisfied laugh, she ran with\noutstretched hands down the corn rows, and her voice came back\nchattering, laughing, asking and answering questions.\n\nTheo\u2019s mother had often heard her speak of the little girl, or young\nlady, or old lady, who played or talked with her in the cornfield; but\nbeing a very busy woman, and having little time to give the child, she\ndid not pay much attention. If she heeded at all, she thought some\nneighbor or her children had met the little girl while passing through\nthe cornfield. To-day her attention had been aroused, and she began to\nwonder who it was that Theo was so eager to meet.\n\nSo when Theo ran down to the cornfield, her mother followed closely. She\nsaw her disappear in the corn, and marking the place, hurried after. She\ncould hear the child\u2019s voice close at hand, and another\u2019s, that sounded\nsometimes like a human voice, and again like the wind sighing in the\ncorn. After a short search, she saw at a distance her little daughter.\nBut what was she doing? Clasping in her arms a group of cornstalks, and\nlooking lovingly up among the green waving blades. But stay. Were they\ncornstalks? It surely was a beautiful young woman, dressed in trailing\nrobes of green silk; her hair the color of corn silk, waving around her\nface and neck.\n\nThe little girl playfully clasped her knees, while the lady, laughing,\nbent over her, swaying and bending as corn does in the wind. \u201cAm I\nlosing my senses, or am I bewitched?\u201d wondered the mother. She was\ntempted to call her child to her, and take her away from the field, but\nshe seemed so happy.\n\nPresently Theo sprang away from the corn, and called back, \u201cYou cannot\ncatch me.\u201d The wind suddenly blew the tossing corn-blades together. When\nit lulled again, she saw her little girl running down the row, and close\nin pursuit ran the young woman. No, stay. It was a child, following\nclosely after Theo. On they ran, laughing, calling, and presently they\ncame back, panting.\n\nTheo flung herself down to rest in the shade of the corn, and so did the\nlittle girl. But now, it was not a little girl, but an old woman who sat\nthere. Her face, half hidden by her hood, was wrinkled and yellow. She\nhad a long cloak, with the hood closely drawn over her head. Her\nclothing was made of some material the color of cornhusks, and was\ncoarse and stiff.\n\nTheo rested her elbow on the old woman\u2019s knee, and looked up into her\nface. \u201cI almost think I like you best this way,\u201d she said. \u201cYou make me\nthink of such comfortable things,\u2014gathering nuts and apples, and of\npumpkin-pie, and\u2014and\u2014Christmas, and going to grandpa\u2019s on Thanksgiving.\u201d\nThe old woman nodded and sighed.\n\n\u201cDo you feel sad again?\u201d Again she nodded.\n\n\u201cAbout the corn-husking?\u201d A nod.\n\n\u201cBut you know next summer will come, and you can begin all over again.\u201d\n\nJust here Theo\u2019s mother thought, \u201cI must stop this; the child is talking\neither to a ghost or a witch. Theo,\u201d she called, \u201ccome to me.\u201d\n\nThe child sprang up from her seat and came to her mother, rubbing her\neyes.\n\n\u201cNow, mamma, you\u2019ve frightened her away; she won\u2019t come back again\nto-day. She doesn\u2019t like folks.\u201d\n\n\u201cTheo, who in the world are you talking about; and why do you race up\nand down the corn rows, laughing and chattering to yourself?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I\u2019ll tell you, mamma; but first let us go to the house; she might\nnot like to hear me.\u201d\n\nSoon after, they were seated in the cool shaded parlor. The mother took\nthe little girl on her lap. \u201cNow, Theo, tell me,\u201d she said. So the\nlittle child began.\n\n\u201cWell, mamma, it began long ago, by me being so lonesome. I haven\u2019t any\none to play with, and one day I was out in the cornfield when the corn\nwas just as high as me. And I spoke out loud, and I said, \u2018Oh, dear,\nwhat shall I do for some one to play with me? I shall go distracted\u2019 (I\nhave heard you say that word, mamma)! And I said, \u2018I wish a little girl\nwould grow out of those cornstalks;\u2019 and just as I said that, the stalks\nparted, and out stepped the nicest little girl. She was so pretty! She\nhad such curling brown hair, and blue eyes, and her dress was of green\nsilk; and when she laughed, her teeth looked like little grains of white\ncorn, and she was rubbing her eyes, as though she had just waked up. And\nshe knew me, mamma; she said, \u2018Why, Theo, did you come to play with me?\u2019\nand pretty soon we were the best friends you ever saw. And every day we\nplayed and played; only she never would tell me where she lived, and she\nwouldn\u2019t ever come home with me to play. But one day, when the corn had\ngrown way high above my head, and the roasting ears were getting ripe,\nshe changed all at once into such a pretty young lady. At first I cried,\nfor I didn\u2019t want to lose my little girl; but the young lady was so\nlovely, mamma, and she sang to me, and we talked; and so one day last\nfall, when the cornstalks were turning yellow, I found my young lady had\nchanged into an old one. And I was afraid of her at first, she was so\nbent over, and was queer looking. But I got real well acquainted with\nher, and she told me stories about gathering nuts, and about squirrels\nand birds, and oh, lots of things, and I just love her now!\n\n\u201cWell, I wanted to tell you, but you didn\u2019t pay much \u2019tention when I\ntalked to you; so, when husking time came, my poor old lady wrung her\nhands and cried, and told me good-bye, and I just couldn\u2019t \u2019dure to see\nher go, and my dear cornfield torn down, and I have felt so lonesome.\n\n\u201cWell, this summer, the little girl came back, when the corn was tall\nenough for us to play in; and now we know each other so well that she\nchanges just for fun, from a little girl to a young lady, and then to an\nold one; and she keeps me uneasy, mamma, for I never know just when she\nwill change. She told me once she was an Indian woman, and that she was\ncivilized now,\u2014and that\u2019s all.\u201d\n\nTheo ended with a sigh of relief that the story was told. The mother\nlooked at the child long and curiously. \u201cWell, I declare!\u201d she said. But\nthat night she said to Theo\u2019s papa: \u201cWe must send Theo to school. The\nchild\u2019s head is filled with all sorts of nonsense; it\u2019s time she was\ntaught something sensible; and, if I were in your place, I would turn\nthat cornfield into pasture-land, and invest in more cattle.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have been thinking of that myself,\u201d he answered.\n\nBy and by the mother asked, \u201cJohn, was that cornfield ever used by the\nIndians as a burial place, or anything?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d he answered musingly. \u201cI used to plow up arrow-heads,\nand pipe-bowls of red sandstone, when I first broke the prairie sod. Why\ndo you ask?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, just because,\u201d she answered.\n\n\n\n\n VII.\n AT THE WAYSIDE CROSS.\n\n\nThere is a border land that lies just beyond this everyday life, but not\nwithin the bounds of dreamland. We call it, for want of a better name,\n\u201cThe land of fancy, or of waking dreams.\u201d\n\nA young mother lay in her white bed, and close in her arms nestled the\nlittle soul whose life journey was just beginning. It was twilight time,\nand the mother lay half asleep, half awake, close on the confines of\nthat border land.\n\nThe rain beating on the window, the fire purring in the grate, played a\nsoft accompaniment to her thoughts.\n\n\u201cWhat will my little baby\u2019s life be,\u2014happy or sad?\u201d questioned the\nmother. \u201cOh, dear All-Father, if I might know!\u201d thus she prayed. And\nwhile she asked and wondered, a soft rustle by her bedside caused her to\nglance up. Above her and the sleeping baby leaned a tall bright angel,\nin garments soft and white like snow, with folded wings like the petals\nof some great white lily. \u201cWhat is it,\u201d wondered the mother; and a soft\nvoice answered: \u201cI am your baby\u2019s angel. Your prayer has been heard.\nLook.\u201d And the mother, following the angel\u2019s glance, saw at the foot of\nthe bed three gray shapes, three mysterious woman forms. There they sat,\nsolemnly regarding the little one. In the hands of one was what the\nmother knew to be a distaff; from it, a fine thread passed to the baby\u2019s\nhand. \u201cAh, that is why you clasp your hands so tightly, my darling, lest\nyou lose the thread,\u201d said the mother.\n\nThe next sister held a pair of shears in her hand; her eyes were sad and\ndowncast. The last one had empty hands, but she spoke with authority,\nand she said: \u201cSisters, this new soul is bound for the city on the\nheights of Peace. How shall she reach it?\u201d\n\nThen spoke the one with the distaff: \u201cAh, sister, she is little and\nweak. She is a woman child. May she not go by the way that leads through\nthe valley, where there is pleasant shade, and the birds sing all day\nlong?\u201d\n\nThe eldest answered: \u201cWho that takes that route reaches the city? Do\nthey not wander away into the defiles of the mountains, and the heights\nare lost to them? Nay, sisters, she shall go by the way of tears till\nshe come to the wayside cross.\u201d\n\nThen the pitying one raised the shears to cut the tiny thread of life,\nbut the other stayed her hand. \u201cLet me read to you her destiny,\u201d she\nsaid.\n\nThe angel bent low over the mother and child. \u201cBe strong, be\ncourageous,\u201d he whispered; and the mother\u2019s fears were stilled.\n\nThen spoke the Fate: \u201cThis soul shall early be acquainted with sorrow;\nand the angel of pain shall walk hand in hand with her. But close beside\nshall walk the angel of patience. Her little feet shall be pierced with\nthorns and bruised with cruel rocks. But beside the stony path sweet\nflowers will bloom. She will hear the lark sing up in the blue, and at\nevery turn in the path she will look backward and see that she is\nclimbing higher. Sometimes, to strengthen her, shall be given her\nglimpses of the wonderful city. And always her guardian angel shall be\nwith her to minister to her.\n\n\u201cAs the years go by, she will not journey alone. She will be happy, for\nlove will lighten the way. Then suddenly shall she come to the wayside\ncross. There a great horror of darkness shall settle over her, her\nstrength shall be taken from her, and she shall lie with her face in the\ndust.\n\n\u201cBut at the cross, the clouds will separate, the mists roll away, and\nshe will find her journey almost accomplished. For behold, from it a\nwonderful stairway of pearl and gold leads up into the heart of the\ncity; and her loved ones will hasten to greet her, and stretch out their\nhands to help her on her way. She will have gained the heights of Peace,\nand will be an inhabitant of that wonderful country, a citizen of the\ngolden city.\u201d\n\nThen the mother, weeping tears of sorrow and of joy, was satisfied, and\nthe tiny baby stirred in its sleep, and nestled closer to her heart.\n\n\n\n\n VIII.\n IN QUEST OF THE DARK.\n\n\nLittle Gene, up at the castle, was missing. The night had come on, and\nthe woods that inclosed the cliff on which the castle stood, and that\nswept down the valley and up the opposite heights, were hushed and\nstill, or sighing dolefully in the summer wind. The servants were out\nwith torches, calling, and running in every direction. Some one\nsuggested letting out the dogs; but that, the lady would not allow. She\nwould not have the child torn to pieces by the great wolf-hounds, she\nsaid. She sat in her room and wrung her hands in despair. For the\ntwentieth time she questioned the weeping nurse, who grew more\nfrightened and confused with each question.\n\n\u201cMost noble lady, I saw him last in the courtyard. He called to me and\nsaid: \u2018Nursie, I will run away out into the deep wood;\u2019 and I answered\nthat the Dark would catch him if he did, and then he could never get\nhome again; and he said: \u2018I am not afraid of the Dark. I will find him,\nand tell him so; and I like the Dark.\u2019 And then\u2014I brought him into the\nplay-room, and I\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cStop right there!\u201d cried the mother. \u201cYou did not bring him in. You\nintended to do so; but in talking with the men-at-arms and other idlers,\nyou forgot my son; and now, he is either in the grasp of that robber\nchief Montfort, or the wolves have found him.\u201d\n\nHere the mother\u2019s and the nurse\u2019s outcries blended; and if the nurse\u2019s\nshrieks were loudest, there may have been cause; for a noble dame\u2019s\nwhite hand could strike heavily, in those days.\n\nThe whole night through, the mother and the nurse mingled their tears\nfor their darling, while the search went on. The men-at-arms and\nservants loved the boy, not only that he was the son of their lord but\nfor his own quaint ways and bonny face.\n\nEarly in the morning the seekers came straggling in, tired and hungry;\nno trace had been found of the child. All feared to tell their lady of\ntheir fruitless quest. She had not ceased, all night, to walk the floor,\nweeping, and asking herself how she would dare tell her husband that\ntheir boy was gone. The nurse crouched by the door, trembling, and in\nsore distress; while the seekers asked of each other who was to tell\ntheir mistress. While they lingered, a shout from the valley caused all\nto hasten to the castle wall. A horse and rider came rapidly toward them\nfrom under the trees; clasped in the rider\u2019s arms was little Gene; his\nyellow curls glistened against the man\u2019s black armor.\n\nPlacing the child on the ground, the stranger bowed low to the lady,\nturned his horse, and disappeared into the forest. The mother scarcely\nsaw him; her eyes were on her boy. She reached out her arms to him.\n\n\u201cGene, little Gene, my dearest, come.\u201d The little fellow kissed his hand\nand waved it to her. Soon he was in her arms; and she held him close,\nwhile she questioned him.\n\n\u201cWhere have you been, Gene, and who was yon dark man who brought you\nhome?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat was the Dark, mamma. Nurse does always tell me that the Dark will\ncatch me; and when I say that I do not fear, she threatens to send me to\nhim. I asked her where he lived, and she said, \u2018In the day-time, in the\ngreat vaults under the castle;\u2019 and I asked her where he lived at night,\nand she said, \u2018In the deep woods.\u2019 So I said I would find him, and tell\nhim I did not fear him.\u201d\n\n\u201cDid you think to frighten his father\u2019s son with such baby lore?\u201d asked\nthe lady of the nurse, scornfully.\n\n\u201cBut continue, my son; tell me, how went you out from the castle?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is a little door through which\u2014but dear mamma, I cannot tell you\nwhat is known only to the men-at-arms.\u201d\n\nThe lady glanced round darkly. \u201cThis castle needeth its master sorely,\u201d\nshe said. The men drew back abashed. The boy continued,\u2014\n\n\u201cWhen I came out into the woods, I left the path that leads\naway\u2014away,\u201d\u2014he spread out his dimpled arms and looked far off,\u2014\u201cI know\nnot whither it goes, but I left it, and sought the deep wood. The\nshadows are heavy there, and it is very still. While I stood under a\ntree, uncertain which way to go, suddenly down toward me, through the\ntrees, came the Dark.\u201d\n\n\u201cHoly Mary! it was some robber,\u201d exclaimed the mother.\n\n\u201cNo, mamma, I tell you, it was the Dark. He was very black; his armor\nwas black, and so were his beard and his eyes. He looked at me as though\nhe wanted to eat me. But I said, \u2018Are you the Dark? I come to find you\nand to tell you that I do not fear you.\u2019 And then I looked at him, and\nhe laughed, and I said, \u2018I think I am going to like you;\u2019 and he said,\n\u2018Who are you? Have you strayed from Fairyland?\u2019\n\n\u201cSo I told him who I was, and he frowned and said, \u2018Careless woman, to\nguard such a treasure so slackly.\u2019 Who did he mean, mamma?\u201d\n\nThe lady\u2019s face flushed. \u201cContinue, my son; did he harm you?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, mamma, no. He found me some berries and a drink from a spring; and\nthen he showed me how, at his coming, the little birds went to sleep in\nthe trees, and the deer beneath them. And he showed me the stars, coming\nout in the deep sky. And when I grew sleepy, he held me in his arms, and\nsang of the white moths, and the glowworms; and the bird that sings at\nnight sang with him; and then I went to sleep. But when morning came he\nfound a great black horse, which was his; and so he brought me home, and\nmade me promise never to seek for him again. I did not want to promise,\nonly his eyes looked so that I feared him; so I promised; and he gave me\nthis keepsake, for my mamma.\u201d\n\nHere little Gene drew forth from his sleeve a piece of parchment, which\nhe handed to his mother.\n\nThe lady was obliged to call to her aid the priest, who read slowly:\u2014\n\n\u201cThou careless woman, guard this treasure more securely, lest he fall a\nsecond time into the hands of Montfort.\u201d\n\n\u201cHoly St. Denis! it was that fierce robber,\u201d said the lady.\n\n\n\n\n IX.\n THE KING WILL HUNT TO-DAY.\n\n\nThis story was told by an Indian mother to her children, while the wind\nwhirled and twisted the snow into great heaps against the walls of the\ntepee.\n\n\u201cThis that I will tell you happened many years ago, before the white man\nwas here, and when the red man owned all the vast prairies and deep\nwoods, the great lakes and broad rivers of this land. The red man ruled\nover every living animal, save the great bear, who dwelt in the dim\nvastness of the forest, and the gaunt wolves, who submitted to the rule\nof a king, strong and terrible.\n\n\u201cOne winter the frost came early; the rivers were frozen solid; the snow\ncovered the nuts under the trees and the roots that were eatable. The\nanimals sought their dens and burrows, and the earth slept the\ndeath-sleep. All living things suffered, the red men most of all; there\nwas fasting and sorrow in all the tepees\u2014in all save one, where lived\nthe Wolf-Maiden and her mother. Their tepee was warm and bright\u2014warm\nwith the furs of animals, bright with the light of great dry logs\nblazing on the fire. The daughter was plump and rosy, for she had plenty\nof food; but the mother was thin and pale, and sat all day with her face\nhidden on her knees, in the corner of the tepee. Every night the\ndaughter called the mother to come with her; and the mother followed,\ntrembling, not daring to disobey. Those who watched them saw them\ndisappear in the starlight, across the wide, snow-covered prairie,\ntaking the direction of the ravine, where were the dens of the Wolf-King\nand his old wolf-mother. They would return heavily laden with meat and\nfurs; and frequently the mother bent under a great load of logs. Often\nwhen the children of the village, hollow-eyed and pale, would come near\nthe tepee, scenting the fragrance of the broiling meat, the maiden would\nsnatch from the fire a portion and offer it to the little ones; but it\nwas rejected with horror; for the mothers had told the children that the\nmeat was bewitched, and if they ate of it they would be turned into\nwolves.\n\n\u201cThe Wolf-Maiden was looked upon with fear; for it was said that in the\nlong summer evenings she had been seen playing and romping with the old\nmother-wolf and the young Wolf-King; while her Indian mother, from a\ndistant hill, watched her, and wrung her hands for fear. So all the\ngirls of the tribe shunned her, and the young men feared her greatly.\n\n\u201cNow the winter waxed colder and fiercer, and cruel hunger dwelt in each\ntepee. Many little ones died, for there was no food for them; and there\nwas mourning in the village. The Wolf-Maiden\u2019s heart was filled with\npity; she went to the mothers and offered them meat for the children.\nWhen they drew back she said, \u2018Is it not better to give this to the\nchildren than to see them die? Do not I eat it, and am I a wolf?\u2019\n\n\u201cThen her face grew red as the sky when the sun bids it good night. The\nmothers finally accepted the meat, although with many a smothered curse\nfor the giver. The children grew strong and rosy again; and the parents\nwatched them anxiously, to see if claws or fur would appear on them.\n\n\u201cBut the Wolf-King and his subjects grew weary with the toil of\nsupplying so many with food; and in sulky silence they retired to their\ndens and slept the time away. Then, when the Wolf-Maiden had gone to his\nden, and had called the king to come to her without avail, she sought\nthe old mother-wolf, and she said, \u2018Oh, mother, dost thou not care that\nthy child lacks food? and see, my lazy brother will not hunt for me.\u2019\n\n\u201cAnd the wolf-mother said, \u2018Daughter, I know well that it is not for\nthyself thou demandest food, but for the helpless beings among whom thou\ndost dwell. What is it to me that they starve? Have they not taken thee\nfrom me, and dost thou not blush when thou rememberest that thou wast\nonce a wolf?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Not so,\u2019 answered the maid; \u2018I blush rather for the cruel heart that a\nwolf-skin can cover. Give me now my wolf-skin robe: I will find food for\nthose helpless little ones.\u2019\n\n\u201cThen hastily snatching the robe she flung it over her shoulders, and\nshe was changed into a wolf, and, speeding away across the snow, she was\nquickly lost to view in the distance. Then the old wolf-mother sprang to\nthe door of her cave and sent a cry of alarm and anguish up the valley.\nIt entered the door of the Wolf-King\u2019s den, and awoke the sleeping\nmonarch. He ran with great leaps down the valley to his mother\u2019s home.\nShe quickly told him her story, and bemoaned her own and her son\u2019s\nselfishness.\n\n\u201c\u2018Thy sister will die, will die! And I, her mother, have sent her to her\ndeath. She is all unused to the hunt, she will perish alone in the\nbitter cold! Follow her! Bring her back!\u2019\n\n\u201cThen the king ran swiftly down the valley, giving the hunting call as\nhe ran; and all the wolves of the pack awoke and called to each other:\n\u2018The king will hunt to-day!\u2019 And there was a gathering and mustering of\nthe strong ones of the tribe. And the king said, \u2018Come, follow, follow\nquickly, we are on the track of a wolf. I warn ye all, let no one harm\nthe stranger should we meet with it; for it is my royal sister, returned\nto us once more!\u2019\n\n\u201cNow the Wolf-Maiden ran long and far over the dim snow-covered plain,\nbut found nothing; for she was unused to the hunt, and knew not how to\ntrack or to follow. Presently she drew near the great black forest,\nwherein dwelt the Bear-King. But this she did not heed, for just on the\nedge of the forest an antelope started up from the long, high grass and\nbrush, and sprang away among the great trees. The Wolf-Maiden followed\nclosely on its trail. She did not see the wicked eyes, cruel claws, or\ngleaming teeth above her. Just as she sprang on the antelope, a blow\nfrom the great bear\u2019s paw struck her down. She sprang to her feet, all\nthe royal blood in her body aroused by the blow; but who could strive\nagainst that terrible arm? Suddenly through the forest rang the royal\nhunting call of the Wolf-King, and the great bear turned to face as\ncruel a fate as he had planned for the Wolf-Maiden. Then came the\ncombat: terrible blows were given and taken, growls and snarls of rage,\nthe wild joy and glow of the battle. The Wolf-Maiden, forgetting all but\nher wolf nature, joined in the struggle, and helped to drag the monster\nto the ground.\n\n\u201cWhen the battle was over and the bear was dead, the pack withdrew to a\nrespectful distance, and formed a circle around the dead bear and\nantelope. They watched the Wolf-King and his sister divide the spoil; a\nlarge portion for the helpless children, a smaller portion for their\nmother and themselves. And when they were served, the wolves closed in\naround the carcasses and left scarcely the bones.\n\n\u201cThe Wolf-Maiden returned no more to the Indian village; retaining her\nwolf form, she abode with her own mother. But all through the cold of\nthe terrible winter, the wolves brought down the game, and supplied the\nwants of the children; and when the winter was gone, and the birds sang\non the ridgepoles of the tepees, the Wolf-King, his mother, sister, and\ntribe removed far to the north land. Ever after, the wolf was venerated\nin the tribe and was chosen as their totem.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n X.\n HE WAS A PRINCE.\n\n\nThe rain had poured down steadily all day. Max was tired and depressed,\nfor a slight cold made going out into the rain impossible. All the books\nhad been read and re-read. There was no one to amuse him but Candace,\nthe nurse, a mulatto woman of dignified and solemn mien, who always\nreminded him of Thorwaldsen\u2019s \u201cAfrica,\u201d for her large eyes had a\nfar-away look, \u201cAs if she were remembering things,\u201d Max said.\n\nShe was kind, but seldom talked to him; and as Max had no mother to tell\nhis thoughts to, they would sit for an hour at a time, dreaming their\nown dreams, neither speaking to the other.\n\nAs the afternoon wore on, Max grew more and more restless and his sighs\nmore frequent. Nurse Candace glanced up from her sewing, but said\nnothing.\n\nJust then the great white cat, \u201cNecho\u201d by name, rose up from his dark\nred velvet cushion, yawned wearily, stretched himself, and stepped with\nstately grace from the room.\n\n\u201cWhy! he walks like a prince,\u201d said Max.\n\n\u201cHe is a prince at night,\u201d said Candace.\n\n\u201cIs he? How do you know?\u201d eagerly asked Max.\n\n\u201cIf I tell you, you must not let him suspect, even by your actions, that\nyou know,\u201d said Candace, \u201cor my punishment\u2014\u201d Here she broke off.\n\n\u201cI promise,\u201d said Max.\n\n\u201cWell, it is as I tell you. All day long while the daylight lasts with\nus he is under a spell. Once, in the olden days, his father, the king of\nEgypt, caused to be put to death a great magician; but before his death\nthe magician laid a spell upon the great king\u2019s only son, Prince Necho;\nand this was it. When night came the prince and one attendant were to\ndepart to the westward, far over the unknown sea; and when they came to\nthe land of strangers, the prince must take the form of some animal.\n\n\u201cWhen the queen heard this she was filled with despair, and implored the\ngreat cat-headed goddess, Pacht, to have mercy on her son; but all the\ncomfort the goddess promised her was, that the spell upon the prince\nshould last only from darkness to daylight; that he might take the form\nof the animal sacred to the goddess, the cat; because of his pure and\nblameless life he should be a white cat; that while he was under the\nspell he should have a kind and loving master, and his faithful\nattendant should be with him.\n\n\u201cNow, when night is settling down over us, and the sun-god is rising\nover Egypt, great Prince Necho returns to his own. Not to the present\nEgypt, with its lonely ruins and its race of slaves, but to a great and\nglorious realm; for the curtain that hides the past is lifted.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd do you go with him? Are you a great princess in Egypt? Oh, may I\nnot go too? Please, please, Candace, let me.\u201d\n\n\u201cPeace! child of the stranger,\u201d said Candace sternly. \u201cIs it not enough\nthat I am revealing the prince\u2019s life to you?\u201d\n\nThen presently she added in a kinder tone: \u201cNow at night, when Necho\ngoes to the door and asks to have it opened, you unfasten it for him and\nwatch him as he walks leisurely to the steps of the porch. But what you\ndo not see is a great ocean, whose waves lap the steps; and on its waves\nrises and falls a galley of gold and precious wood, with silken sails.\nThis awaits the prince.\n\n\u201cHe steps on board and is received with joy by kneeling subjects. The\nwhite fur robe he wears here is thrown gladly aside, and the prince\nsinks to rest, lulled by beautiful music. Speedily he is borne to the\nmouth of the Nile, where thousands of boats await his coming. Softly he\nis wafted up the river to the great city, where in their palace by the\nwater wait the king and queen. The father advances with joy to receive\nhis son. The queen, with tears in her beautiful dark eyes, clasps him in\nher arms and kisses into forgetfulness the sad night of humiliation he\nhas known. All the land rejoices as at the coming of the sun-god.\n\n\u201cThen begins the real life of Prince Necho. He is taught by the priests\nthe sacred mysteries he must know as the great ruler of Egypt. He is\ntaught also the art of ruling himself as well as his subjects. In all\nmanner of noble feats of horsemanship, of chariot racing, of hunting and\nof war he is taught. And the hours are light with happiness and joy and\nlove. And as the day nears its closing, the father and mother, sitting\nby him and clasping his hands, speak of their love and their sorrow, and\nof the time when by great gifts to the gods and to the poor, and by\nliving noble lives, they may expiate the crime of the magician\u2019s death\n(beloved of Osiris) and so remove the spell from their beloved one.\n\n\u201cNow as the sun sinks in the desert sands, behold there is mourning in\nall the land of Egypt. And the queen, prostrate on the steps of the\naltar sacred to Pacht, implores her protection for her darling; while\nthe king and the prince, kneeling in the great temple of Osiris, offer\noblations to the offended god. As the twilight deepens, sadly the prince\nreturns to his galley, and sinking into troubled dreams, is borne to\nthis land of strangers. And here the waiting attendant wraps the white\nrobe of fur around him; and he awakes to find the spell not yet removed.\n\n\u201cBut the one bright spot in his dark prison life is the love he bears\nthe son of the stranger.\u201d\n\nWhile Nurse Candace, in a low monotone, repeated her wondrous story, the\nnight outside the windows darkened, and Necho, coming into the room,\ncame up to Max and rubbed his head gently against his knee, then walking\nto the hall door he asked for it to be opened.\n\nAs Max stood in the open door and watched the enchanted prince go down\nthe steps, he fancied he saw, through the rain, the sheen of the silken\nsails and the gleam of gold on the galley\u2019s prow, and was sure he heard\nthe hymn of welcome. Returning to the room, he saw Nurse Candace sitting\nwith bowed head and sad eyes.\n\n\u201cThe attendant does not go with the prince to Egypt,\u201d said Max.\n\n\u201cThe attendant awaits here the prince\u2019s sad returning,\u201d she answered.\n\n\u201cBut the days will not seem long to the prince; he sleeps the time\naway,\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cWhat better can he do,\u201d answered Candace, \u201cthan to make of this life a\nsleep and a forgetting, or to wander in dreams in Egypt?\u201d\n\nLong did Max sit and ponder over this strange story. \u201cCan it be true, I\nwonder?\u201d he thought. \u201cIt cannot be; it is too wonderful. And yet,\nCandace is so strange. And Necho often reminds me of the sphinx. Well, I\nwill believe it if to-morrow morning I find a lotus blossom on my\npillow.\u201d\n\nAnd so, going to bed, he dreamed of following Necho over a sunlit sea to\nEgypt.\n\nStrange to tell, in the morning a blue lotus blossom lay on his pillow\nwhen he awoke. And when Candace came to call him, she glanced at the\nflower and started.\n\n\u201cWhere did it come from, Candace?\u201d asked Max, although he was quite sure\nthat he knew.\n\n\u201cFrom the market, of course,\u201d answered Candace. \u201cUncle Moses\u201d (the\ncolored man of all work) \u201cwas there early, and no doubt brought it home\nwith the marketing. He must have laid it on your pillow.\u201d\n\nBut Max thought Necho could tell him about the flower, although he was\ncareful not to ask him, or by his actions to reveal the secret that he\nknew that he was a prince.\n\nA few nights later Max had retired early with a severe headache. He\nawoke, after a deep sleep, to find his headache gone, the room filled\nwith moonlight; awoke to the pressure of a soft hand on his forehead,\nand saw Candace bending over him. But how oddly she was dressed! He\ngazed at her in wonder. And then it flashed through his mind that her\ncostume was an exact copy of a picture he had seen, taken from some\nrock-tomb by the Nile. It was the ancient dress of an Egyptian lady.\n\n\u201cWaken, Max, rise and dress quickly; for permission has been granted us\nto go this night with the prince to Egypt. Hasten, and I will wait for\nthee outside the door.\u201d\n\nHow soft and musical her voice sounded! Soft and exquisite as a haunting\nmelody heard in dreams. And how wonderfully her strange dress became\nher! But almost before he had time to note this, she had vanished softly\nfrom the room.\n\nWondering greatly, Max hastened to dress. But what was this? Instead of\nhis usual garments he found the very oddest dress that was ever worn by\nan American boy. Strange to say, he found no difficulty in placing the\ndifferent articles, for each one seemed to take its required place\nwithout effort on his part. It was all so familiar, and yet so strange.\nSoon he was attired in the most approved costume of a young Egyptian\nnoble of some thousands of years ago.\n\nWhen he had finished dressing he softly opened the door. Candace seized\nhis hand and hurriedly drew him through the upper hall and down the\nstairs.\n\nAnd there Max beheld a wondrous sight.\n\nFor the hall door was open. And down the hall and porch knelt two rows\nof the prince\u2019s subjects, richly and strangely dressed. But he had small\ntime to note them; for at the foot of the stairs stood the prince. When\nMax saw him in all his glorious young majesty, something in his heart\ncompelled him to bow the knee; free born though he was, he knelt low\nbefore the prince, for his face was homage-compelling.\n\nThe prince was dressed in dazzling garments, and jewels innumerable\nglittered when he moved. From his shoulders hung the white fur robe.\n\nTaking Max\u2019s hand, the prince bade him rise, and turning to his\nattendants, commanded them to hasten. Quickly they stepped on board.\nCandace reverently drew the white robe from the prince\u2019s shoulders;\nthen, settling back among his silken cushions, the prince bade Max sit\nbeside him. Candace knelt at his feet. And, strange to relate, Moses, in\nmost gorgeous array, held the insignia of royalty over the head of the\nprince.\n\nThen to the accompaniment of soft music, as they swiftly sailed, the\nprince told how he had prevailed on the priests to allow him to take\nwith him Max and Candace.\n\n\u201cAnd they were the more willing,\u201d said the prince, \u201csince it was\npredicted by the astrologers at my birth that I should be saved from\ngreat evil by one of an unknown time and race. And the astrologers\nassure the priests that the hour has come.\u201d\n\nThen Candace, looking far across the sea, murmured her thanks to Pacht\nthat it was come; and Max told the prince how he longed that he might\nhave the great honor and joy of saving him.\n\nThen Prince Necho set himself presently to the task of teaching Max the\nforms and ceremonies to be observed when they should come into the\npresence of the king and queen; and Max learned readily, as one\nrecalling some half-forgotten lesson.\n\nWhen they had reached the mouth of the Nile, they were borne up the\nriver to the city of the great king. There the royal father and mother\nand a great multitude welcomed them to Egypt. The queen kissed Max, and\nher lips were cool and soft on his brow as the petals of the lotus\nblossom. And afterwards she embraced Candace and thanked her for her\ndevotion to her son. Then, after many strange ceremonials and great\nrejoicing, the multitude were dismissed, and the king and queen led the\nway to their private apartments.\n\nNow it seemed to Max that he remained many days in the palace and saw\nwonderful sights; and his soul was surfeited with pleasures.\n\nBut the prince grew restless under this life of ease and luxury, and\nlonged to break away from it all. One day he said to his royal father,\n\u201cI would I might take Max for a day\u2019s hunting; I would show him noble\nsport.\u201d\n\nThe queen looked up, pale and anxious; and the king answered slowly,\n\u201cThou mayst go, since the spell is on thee; but beware the lions.\u201d\n\nAnd Necho answered: \u201cWhy should I fear them; am I not thy son? Then am I\nmightier than they.\u201d\n\nBut the queen was weeping.\n\nThen the next day, early in the morning, they started for the wild\nbeasts\u2019 haunts in the thick jungles by the river in the royal hunting\ngrounds. And on the way Necho said: \u201cMax, part of the spell laid upon me\nis my mad desire at times to hunt the wild beasts and kill them. When\nthat desire comes, I know no rest until I have killed.\u201d\n\nJust then the royal hunters came to them and announced a lion hidden in\nthe thick reeds. Then Necho, leaving Max in safety to view the sport,\nsprang into his chariot and bade his charioteer drive on. Straight\ntoward the jungle they drove, when out from it sprang a great tawny\nbeast. At the sight of it Max\u2019s heart stood still with fear. On it\nbounded, past the horses, straight at the prince. Swift as thought he\nthrew his spear; it sank deep into the eye of the lion, and he rolled\nover, roaring with agony. The nobles and hunters soon despatched the\nbeast; and when it was dead all joined in lauding the prince to the sky.\n\n\u201cTell me, O prince,\u201d said Max, as they were wending home, followed by\nthe carcass of the lion, borne on the spears of the hunters,\u2014\u201ctell me,\ndid you strike purposely at the lion\u2019s eye?\u201d\n\n\u201cSurely; I could strike at no better place, and I have been trained to a\nsteady and sure hand.\u201d\n\nAnd Max thought to himself that Necho was the bravest as well as the\nhandsomest prince that ever lived.\n\nThat evening, as the sun was travelling westward toward the desert,\nthese two were idling away the hour in one of the courts of the palace.\nIt was a beautiful spot, cool with the spray from the fountain and\nmusical with the sound of falling waters. They were idly tossing a ball\nbackward and forward to each other. The prince leaned against a gilded\ntrellis on which some rare vine was growing. He spoke suddenly: \u201cMax, I\nfeel strangely restless. When I went early this morning to the temple of\nOsiris, the priests told me that I should be in deadly peril this day,\nbut that Osiris would this night be pleased with me. I would have\nhesitated to go hunt the lions this morning, but I thought if Osiris was\npleased with me, I had naught to fear, even if death came. And now the\nhunt is over; and I was not in deadly peril.\u201d\n\n\u201cSurely you were in danger this morning of losing your life, prince; be\nassured that is what the priests foretold.\u201d\n\n\u201cI think not,\u201d answered the prince, and then was silent.\n\nSuddenly, there came springing through one of the entrances to the court\nan immense dog. Max recognized it as a huge mastiff, one of the largest\nand fiercest. His voice was a hoarse roar of rage, and his great mouth,\nwide open, showed his white teeth. With gleaming eyes he rushed at the\nprince; and when Necho saw him, he gave a shriek (strangely like the cry\nof a cat) and sprang up the trellis, which began to bend with his\nweight.\n\n\u201cOh, Max! save me; save me from the magician!\u201d he screamed.\n\nMax, very much startled and rather shocked at the prince\u2019s fright,\nseized his sword and rushed at the dog, who now turned his rage on Max.\nThe boy struck at him again and again with the sword, and finally with a\nsharp thrust of its point he gave the dog his death wound. Max turned,\nto see the prince trembling and cowering, with his hands over his face.\n\n\u201cLook up, dear prince, he is dying. You have nothing to fear.\u201d\n\n\u201cI cannot look until the life has left him. It is the evil one, who has\nthis wicked enchantment over me,\u201d answered the prince. Just then, with a\ngroan, the dog stiffened himself and died.\n\nThen suddenly, from the palace, from the temples, from the city, arose a\ngreat shout of joy. Max was clasped close in the prince\u2019s arms and felt\nhis warm tears on his face. Still the shouting went on. It was a glad\npsalm of thanksgiving for one beloved of the gods and men, who was\ndelivered from great evil. \u201cGlory and thanksgiving,\u201d chanted the\npriests. \u201cJoy, joy,\u201d sang the people.\n\nAnd while they listened, suddenly the king and queen, Candace and Moses,\nand a great company were around them. They would have knelt to Max, but\nhe would not allow it.\n\nBut while he witnessed the father\u2019s and mother\u2019s joy over their son,\nsuddenly he remembered his own father, left alone in a distant land, and\na great longing to go to him took possession of his heart. He could not\ntell this longing to Necho, for already he was planning a happy life in\nEgypt, with Max as his other self. And Max knew that when he returned to\nhis own country he must bid adieu to Necho during this life.\n\nNow as he walked, troubled in mind, in the palace gardens, the queen\nsent for him to come to her, and she said: \u201cDear Max, savior of my son,\nwhat is it that troubles thee?\u201d\n\nThen Max laid all before her, and she answered: \u201cIt is right that thou\nshouldst go, for not only does thy father need thee, but thou dost\nbelong to a far-away race and age that we may never know. It is not meet\nthat thou abide here. Nay we must not hold thee, lest we risk the anger\nof the gods. Go, then, to thine own country; only sometimes, in thy\ndreams, remember us, who then will be only phantoms of a forgotten\npast.\u201d\n\nHer dark eyes looked sadly at Max, and he answered, \u201cBeautiful queen and\nloved mistress, I will never cease to remember Egypt and thee and my\nloved prince.\u201d\n\nAnd while he yet was speaking the sun had risen, and Max was sleeping in\nhis own bed at home.\n\nHe sprang up to see if the Egyptian dress was on the chair where he had\nfound it, but his own garments were there.\n\nHe hastily dressed, but while doing so glanced at his hand, and saw the\nprince\u2019s thumb ring, which Necho had placed on it the day before. Then\nMax knew that he would never see Necho again. He ran downstairs, half\nhoping to find Candace in the sitting-room. He found the cook, looking\nmuch mystified.\n\n\u201cWhere is Candace?\u201d asked Max.\n\n\u201cSure enough, where is Candace, and Moses too? Not a sign of them can I\nfind this morning. It\u2019s my belief they have run off, and taken the cat\nwith them; for I tried to find him an hour ago to catch a mouse that was\nin the pantry; not that the lazy thing would catch it, for he never\nwould catch mice, the spoiled little\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cNow, now, cook, you shall not speak a word against Necho,\u201d declared\nMax.\n\nIt certainly was very strange (to all but Max), for from that day\nnothing was heard of Candace, Moses, or Necho, until one of Moses\u2019\ncolored friends declared that he had visited them in a neighboring city,\nwhere they lived quietly as Mr. and Mrs. Johnson. And he further\ndeclared that he had stroked Necho\u2019s back many times during the visit.\n\nBut as the colored gentleman\u2019s statements were always to be taken with a\ngrain of salt, Max placed no faith in the story; for he knew full well\nthat Necho and his attendants were in Egypt, where he was indeed a\nprince.\n\n\n\n\n XI.\n WHERE THE RIVER HIDES ITS PEARLS.\n\n\nJust where the river bends on its course stands a high point or\nheadland. It is covered with short, sweet grass and white clover, and\npartly shaded with trees. From its highest point there is a beautiful\nview of the river, which you may watch sparkling in the sun or dreaming\nin the moonlight. To the north the path of the river is almost straight\nfor a mile or more; to the south the wooded hills on its farther side\nconfront you, for here it turns and for at least a half mile flows to\nthe west, before it turns southward again.\n\nOn this headland a company of friends and neighbors were camping; and on\nthe highest point was built the camp fire. It was the children\u2019s daily\ntask (or pleasure) to collect sticks and bark to keep this fire going\nfrom dusk until bedtime. Around it the hammocks were swung, and here the\ncompany assembled each night.\n\nBut one night, when the moon was very bright and sent its path of silver\nfar across the water, all were on the river, except two children and one\nwho loved them. The children nestled close to their friend, and listened\nto the soft voices calling or singing across the water. The summer\nbreeze broke it into a thousand little ripples of light.\n\n\u201cHow the river shines to-night! it seems full of pearls,\u201d one child\nsaid, softly.\n\nThe other one asked, \u201cAre there pearls in this river as there are in the\nMississippi?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, quantities of them; but the river hides them safely,\u201d answered\ntheir friend.\n\n\u201cCan you tell us where it hides them? Please tell us,\u201d they pleaded; and\ntheir friend told softly the following legend:\u2014\n\n\nYears ago, before there were any white men beside this river, there\nlived in a village just around the bend an Indian boy. He was not\nuncommonly handsome, brave, or good, but very much the reverse; and he\nspent all of his days and most of his nights idling in his canoe on the\nriver. He did not fish or set traps or do any of the work that the other\nboys did, but allowed his father and mother to furnish him with food and\nclothing. His grandfather would shake his head and tell him that some\nday he would displease the spirit who dwelt in the river, and that harm\nwould befall him. But he was wilful, and laughed at the mention of the\nspirit. He did not believe there was one; he had never seen it.\n\nOne night when he had been far up the river in his canoe, he came\nfloating down in the moonlight, just as that boat is floating there. Do\nyou see that tree that stands out on that point by itself? Yes; just\nthere was once a sand-bar. The moon shone on it, and the yellow sand was\nlike gold, as the boy neared it; he idly gazed at it, for he was half\nasleep; but his attention was suddenly attracted by a wonderful sight.\nHe lay down in the canoe and let his eyes come just above its rim, and\nthis is what he saw as he slowly drifted past.\n\nAn immense mussel shell lay just on the edge of the bar, half in and\nhalf out of the water. It was wide open, and was so large that the half\nof it formed a beautiful seat or throne. The upper valve curved over\nlike a canopy, and seemed to protect a beautiful girl who was reclining\nin the hollow of the shell. Her face, a soft bronze in color, stood out\nin relief against the mother-of-pearl lining of her throne. Her hair\nwaved round her in shining curves. Her hands were clasped above her\nhead. Her dress was of some shining white material, soft and lustrous as\nsilk; she was gazing up into the moonlit sky, and seemed lost in\nthought. But it was not her beauty or her strange appearance that\nattracted the boy; his eyes had caught the shine of a wonderful belt she\nwore around her waist. It seemed to catch and hold the moonbeams and the\nsparkle of the water. It was made of many strings of what appeared to be\nthe most beautiful wampum the boy had ever seen. (Wampum? Oh, you must\nask your mamma to tell you to-morrow what it is; this is not an\ninstructive tale, this is a fairy story.) But it was not wampum; the\nbeads were pearls. The boy had never seen or heard of pearls, so he\nnaturally decided that it was a belt of glorified wampum, and his heart\nwent out to it; he longed exceedingly to possess it, for he was\ncovetous.\n\nHe floated down past the bar, and left the beautiful vision behind him;\nbut all night long he dreamed of the belt, and vowed to himself that he\nwould possess it, if the girl ever returned; so he set his wits to work\nand devised a plan. He determined to capture her and demand the belt for\nher ransom. He secured a stout deerskin, and concealing it in his canoe,\nhe entered and paddled a long distance up the river. He spent the day in\nmaking out of the skin a strong noose, and practised throwing it until\nhe was perfect in the art. Then, when night came and the moon was\nrising, he drifted as before down to the sand-bar. The beautiful girl in\nthe great shell was there, and around her waist shone the pearls.\nFortune favored him to-night, for she was asleep. He ventured near her,\nhis feet making no sound on the sands. When close enough he sprang\ntoward her, like a young panther on his prey. She jumped to her feet\nwith a cry, and the noose fell over her head, slipped down past her\nshoulders, and pinioned her arms to her side. She tried to break away\nfrom it, but it held her securely. Turning, she saw her captor; her eyes\nflashed.\n\n\u201cCruel wretch!\u201d she cried. \u201cWhy do you treat me thus? Have I not allowed\nyou the freedom of the waters, and because I thought that you loved\nthem, have I not guarded you from many dangers? Do you know who I am?\u201d\n\nThe boy answered, \u201cI do not know, nor do I care. You must go with me to\nthe village; you shall be adopted into the tribe.\u201d\n\nIn vain she implored him to set her at liberty; he would not listen. But\npretending finally to melt under her prayers and tears, he said, \u201cI will\nrelease you if you will give me that belt of wampum you wear around your\nwaist.\u201d\n\nThe girl looked at him sternly.\n\n\u201cCan I give away what is not mine? These pearls belong to the river; and\nbecause I am the Spirit of the Waters, I am allowed to wear them. I will\nloan them to you, but there are conditions. You must promise that while\nyou wear them you will refrain from cruel or cowardly deeds, and,\nbecause your heart is evil, you must spend to-day (for day is breaking)\nin the deep woods, fasting and alone, praying to the Great Spirit for a\nheart pure enough to wear these pearls. If when the moon has waned and\ngrown bright again, the pearls are not dimmed and you have refrained\nfrom evil, the belt may be given to you. But I know that you will not\nkeep it; I shall have it soon again.\u201d\n\nSo saying, after he had loosed her hands a little, she unclasped her\nbelt and held it out to him.\n\nHe snatched it rudely, and said boastfully, \u201cWhat I get, I keep.\u201d\n\nThen he hastened to loose the thong, for he saw that daylight was\ncoming, and he feared that some one would find him there and compel him\nto return the belt.\n\nThe girl sprang into the shell; it closed, and sank with her into the\nwater, while the boy, overjoyed, made off with his prize.\n\nThe pearls were very large, and seemed to shed a soft light around him.\nHe bound the belt around his waist; it was too short, but he lengthened\nit out with strings.\n\nHe entered at once into the deep wood to fast and pray to the Great\nSpirit, as he had been told to do. But his mind was so fixed upon the\nbelt that he forgot to ask for a heart pure enough to wear it. When\nevening came, he entered the village. It was the hour of rest after the\ntoils of the day, and men, women, and children were in front of their\ntepees. Very haughtily he strode past his neighbors. Exclamations of\nwonder and delight, and questions as to where he had obtained the belt,\nassailed him. He answered that he had \u201cfound\u201d it, but would not tell\nwhere.\n\nHis grandfather shook his head mysteriously; he did not believe that he\nhad found it. \u201cThe River Spirit is weaving her enchantments for the boy;\nI fear for him greatly,\u201d he said.\n\nThis made the boy very angry with the old man, and he treated him\nrudely.\n\nEach day that he wore the belt he grew more insolent and vain. He spent\nall his time in admiring himself and the belt. And each day the pearls\ngrew dimmer. He saw that they were fading, and he tried to brighten\nthem. He bathed them in the river and polished them with care, but they\ndid not regain their lustre.\n\nOne night when the moon had waned and come again, he was out in his\ncanoe on the river. He had asked a younger boy to go with him, for he\nfeared that, if alone, the spirit would meet him. The child asked him\nrepeatedly where he had found the belt; finally becoming enraged at his\nquestions, the boy raised his paddle and struck him. He fell backward\ninto the water. The boy did not attempt to help him, but turned his back\nupon him, and paddled swiftly away.\n\nThe Spirit of the River saw it all, and hastening to the child, she bore\nhim safe to the shore. The boy hastened up the river until he saw with\nalarm that he was near the sand-bar where he had secured the belt; and\nwhen he felt a hand steadily drawing him to the bar, he was frantic with\nfear. He resisted with all his might, but the canoe kept steadily on.\nWhen it reached the bar, he was thrown violently out on to the sand, and\nthe boat drifted away bottom upward. He sprang to his feet, and was\nconfronted by the spirit; but now she was no delicate girl, but a woman,\nstrong and terrible.\n\n\u201cGive me the pearls,\u201d she said, \u201cand the river shall hide them\nhenceforth from the greed of mortals.\u201d The boy sullenly returned the\nbelt; and, at a word from the spirit, there came up through the sand and\nfrom the river thousands of mussels. Each shell was gaping wide, and\ninto each she dropped a pearl. When all were gone, the shells closed\nwith a snap, and disappeared as quickly as they had come.\n\nThe spirit turned to the boy. \u201cSince you know the secret that the river\nwould keep, your lips must be always closed. Stay by these waters\nforever, and search in vain for the pearls.\u201d\n\nSo saying, she changed him into a sand-hill crane, and he may still be\nseen, standing on the sand-bars, looking intently into the water for the\npearls.\n\n\n\u201cWe have seen him,\u201d cried the children. \u201cHe was over on that sand-bar,\non the other side of the river, this afternoon.\u201d\n\nBy and by the smallest child said, softly, \u201cI am sorry for that poor,\nnaughty, sandhill crane.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n XII.\n THE MIST LADY.\n\n\nThere was once a little girl who was not like other girls at all; for\ninstead of running and jumping and dancing, she could only walk a little\nway, and she had to have two crutches to help her. All day long she sat\nin her chair and kept quite busy reading, or playing \u201cjust pretend;\u201d for\nyou know when you play \u201cpretend,\u201d you can change yourself to a fairy, or\na bird, or an enchanted princess, or anything you have in mind; and\nthen, of course, the time passes swiftly. So the little girl\u2019s days\npassed pleasantly. But at night, after she was in her bed, and the house\nwas quiet, and every one asleep, the pain would come, and that was so\ndreadful that the tears would follow. Now the little girl\u2019s hands were\nlame, and it was difficult to wipe away the tears; so that she had to\nleave them in her eyes, and sometimes because of them she could not see\nthe kind old moon that shone down on her bed, or the bright stars that\ndanced and sparkled for her.\n\nOne night the little girl was very sorrowful, for she had heard the\ndoctor telling her mother that she would never be any better, and that\nshe might live many years before the kind death-angel came for her.\n\nAnd now the tears had entirely blotted out the moonlight; everything was\nin a blur. She was trying to brush them away, when the sweetest, softest\nvoice said, \u201cDo not brush them away, dear; open your eyes wide and look\nat me.\u201d\n\nShe did as the voice commanded, and saw the loveliest, strangest lady\nthat one can imagine. She was so tall, so fair, with such bright eyes,\nsmiling lips, soft waving hair; and she seemed made of some material so\nfine and delicate, that the little girl felt that, if she would try to\nsmooth her face or clasp her hand, she would feel only substance light\nas air.\n\nHer dress was a soft, floating, waving material like the most delicate\nchiffon; it waved and floated about her with every motion. She bent down\nand kissed the little girl\u2019s forehead, and the kiss was like a soft\nbreath of damp air on her face. The sweet voice spoke.\n\n\u201cIf you had wiped the tears away, you could not have seen me, for I am\none of the children of the Mist. Come with me, little Princess of tears;\nyou shall be one of us, and I will show you where we dwell.\u201d\n\nSo the little girl took the Mist Lady\u2019s hand, and they passed through an\nopen window.\n\nThe little girl found herself floating softly along through the\nmoonlight beside her companion. Her garments were like the lady\u2019s, of\nthe softest, finest, misty chiffon, and seemed to bear her up as though\nshe floated on a fleecy cloud.\n\nThe lady said: \u201cEven tears are not in vain, for these garments you wear\nare woven of the tears you have shed. You could not have gone with me\nwithout them.\u201d\n\nThe little girl laughed and said, \u201cHow strange that I should ever be\nthankful for the tears I have shed!\u201d\n\nAnd the lady answered, \u201cSome day, when it is over, you will be thankful\nfor the pain also.\u201d\n\nBut the little girl thought that would be impossible.\n\nSo they floated happily along. They stopped to breathe on some drooping\nflowers that a careless child had neglected. They crossed a great river,\nand presently they came to a mighty cataract.\n\n\u201cHere is our home, and here are the children of the Mist,\u201d said the\nlady.\n\nThe little girl held her breath in astonishment, and so would any other\nearth-child at what she saw. For, whirling, floating, dancing over the\ncataract, on the shore, diving headlong down the mighty fall with the\nwater, floating up again from the abyss, were myriads of beautiful\nforms. There were large and small, smaller than the little girl.\n\nThe Mist Lady\u2019s eyes sparkled; she held out her hand; \u201cCome, little\nPrincess,\u201d she said, \u201clet us join them.\u201d But the little girl drew back.\n\n\u201cOh, I cannot; I am afraid. Do you go, and I will watch you from this\nbank.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then; but sit here where some of us can be with you every moment,\nor your garments will wax old and fall from you, and how then will you\nreach your home?\u201d\n\nSo the little girl sat close to the falls, where the Mist children\nencircled her, clasped her in their arms, kissed her face, and made much\nof her. They sang for her and told her wonderful stories of the upper\nair, of cloud-land and its palaces.\n\nThe little girl loved the Mist children dearly, for they were so dainty\nand graceful, so kind and loving. And they in return loved and pitied\nthe little \u201cPrincess of tears,\u201d for they knew her story well; they had\nlistened in the night to her sighs, had wept with her, had often lulled\nher to sleep by tapping on the window pane. So they were old friends of\nhers.\n\nBy and by the Mist Lady came to her more fair and radiant than ever.\n\n\u201cCome, little Princess, let us go; for we must meet the dawn-angel near\nyour home.\u201d\n\nSo the little girl waved a last farewell to the Mist children, and\ncontentedly placed her hand in the hand of her guide; and they floated\non, around mountain peaks, over fair valleys, and over the bosom of a\nclear lake, where the moonlight was sleeping.\n\nPresently the eastern sky grew rosy; and flying toward them from its\nradiance, came a great white angel bearing in his arms golden shafts of\nlight. The lady and the little girl veiled their faces as he passed them\nby. Then, hastening home, the little girl found herself in bed just as\nthe sun\u2019s first beams kissed her face. The Mist Lady had whispered to\nher that she would come again; so she sank into a quiet, happy sleep,\nand her mother found her smiling, when she came to help her to dress.\n\nNow the little girl and the doctor were great friends; for although the\ndoctor was strong and well, and laughed a great deal, he knew how to\npity little ones who were different from other children.\n\nThe little girl told him all her fancies and dreams, when he had time to\nlisten; and the next time that he came, she told him about the Mist Lady\nand her journey.\n\nThe doctor was greatly interested, and said, \u201cDo you know, little girl,\nI intend to stay here all night, sometime; perhaps I may see the Mist\nLady too.\u201d But the little girl said, \u201cDoctor, it will not be any use for\nyou to stay, you laugh too much; you can see the Mist Lady only when\nyour eyes are full of tears.\u201d\n\nAnd the doctor said, \u201cI really must cure this bad habit of laughing.\u201d\n\nThe little girl said, \u201cI do not want you changed the least tiny bit.\u201d\n\nSo they were better friends than ever.\n\nNot many nights after, the doctor stood by his little friend. She was\nasleep, with a happy smile on her face; for the time for pain was all\npast, and she knew now why it had been allowed. The doctor was not\nlaughing; he saw his little friend\u2019s face through tears; and, glancing\nfrom her face to the foot of the little white bed, he saw the Mist Lady\nkneeling, with her face hidden in her hands.\n\nAnd the little \u201cPrincess of tears\u201d has a new name now.\n\n\n\n\n Transcriber\u2019s Notes\n\n\n--Copyright notice provided as in the original\u2014this e-text is public\n domain in the country of publication.\n\n--Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and\n dialect unchanged.\n\n--In the text versions, delimited italicized text within _underscores_.","title":"Stories of Enchantment","tradition":"folklore-oral-tradition","translated_text":null,"word_count":22780}