{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_68225/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_68225","id":"gutenberg_68225","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68225","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Fairy tales -- Australia"],"text":"AUSTRALIAN FAIRY TALES.\n\n                                   BY\n                             ATHA WESTBURY.\n\n                     ILLUSTRATED BY A. J. JOHNSON.\n\n\n                                LONDON:\n                      WARD, LOCK, & CO., LIMITED,\n                 WARWICK HOUSE, SALISBURY SQUARE, E.C.\n                        NEW YORK AND MELBOURNE.\n                                  1897\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n                                                          PAGE\n    GOLDEN CLOUD:\u2014\n        CHAP. I.    THE LONE ROCK                            9\n        \u00a0,,\u00a0\u00a0 II.   MOTHER DOT                              19\n        \u00a0,,\u00a0\u00a0 III.  DUSK\u2019S STRONGHOLD                       27\n        \u00a0,,\u00a0\u00a0 IV.   THE RING-DOVE                           34\n        \u00a0,,\u00a0\u00a0 V.    GOLDEN CLOUD                            42\n    TWILIGHT:\u2014\n        CHAP. I.    BARON THIMBLE                           48\n        \u00a0,,\u00a0\u00a0 II.   PRINCE PICNIC                           57\n        \u00a0,,\u00a0\u00a0 III.  LADY LOLLYPOP                           65\n    TIM                                                     73\n    THREE SPARROWS                                          82\n    KING DUNCE                                              91\n    \u201cI DON\u2019T KNOW\u201d                                          98\n    THE BANK CAT                                           106\n    GUMTREE HOLLOW                                         115\n    WHISKERKISS:\u2014\n        CHAP. I.    THE MYSTERIOUS JOURNEY                 123\n        \u00a0,,\u00a0\u00a0 II.   PRINCESS GOLDEN HAIR                   131\n    A CROOKED SIXPENCE                                     139\n    THE BALL IN THE DELL                                   148\n    ELSIE                                                  155\n    THE WISHING-CAP                                        162\n    TWO GIANTS                                             176\n    MOTHLAND                                               184\n    MOONLAND                                               197\n    \u201cSAILOR\u201d                                               221\n    NELLIE                                                 228\n    IN THE CLOUDS                                          243\n    WONDERLAND                                             251\n    BABY\u2019S VISITORS                                        259\n    RUBYWINGS:\u2014\n        CHAP. I.    THE JOURNEY                            264\n        \u00a0,,\u00a0\u00a0 II.   SHADOWS                                271\n    LIFE AND DEATH                                         277\n    GIANTS                                                 283\n    THE KANGAROO HUNTER:\u2014\n        CHAP. I.    THE LOST DRESS                         291\n        \u00a0,,\u00a0\u00a0 II.   QUIZ                                   298\n        \u00a0,,\u00a0\u00a0 III.  A SLEEPING BEAUTY                      304\n    THE LAUGHING JACKASS:\u2014\n        CHAP. I.    LOST IN THE BUSH                       312\n        \u00a0,,\u00a0\u00a0 II.   EMU ROYAL                              319\n    HOP-O\u2019-MY-THUMB                                        325\n    A MAGIC WHISTLE                                        334\n    \u201cCOCKY\u201d:\u2014\n        CHAP. I.    THE MAGIC HUT                          342\n        \u00a0,,\u00a0\u00a0 II.   BROWN EYES                             350\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF FULL-PAGE AND OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n\n    \u201cTHE GLOBE SLOWLY SPLIT IN TWAIN\u201d                    Frontispiece\n                                                                 PAGE\n    \u201cOUR HERO WENT SPRAWLING HEADLONG OVER HIM\u201d                    20\n    \u201cAT THE SIGHT OF HER THE ASS BEGAN TO BRAY LOUDLY\u201d             37\n    \u201c\u2018SHAVE, OR HAIR CUT, SIR?\u2019 ASKED THE BARBER\u201d                  51\n    \u201cA TALL, HANDSOME YOUNG MAN, ROBED IN A SUPERB HUNTING\n      COSTUME\u201d                                                     71\n    \u201cGET UP, TOBY THE GROWLER, AND FOLLOW ME\u201d                      83\n    \u201cSPEEDING AWAY ACROSS THE COUNTRY AS SWIFT AS THE WIND\u201d        93\n    \u201cA JACK-IN-THE-BOX ... CAME AND REVILED HIM\u201d                  102\n    \u201c\u2018HURRAH!\u2019 HE CRIED, TOSSING UP HIS HAT\u201d                      119\n    \u201cSEATED BENEATH A CANOPY OF ROSES\u201d                            134\n    \u201c\u2018PRAY TAKE OUT THOSE HORRID LONG SPIKES\u2019\u201d                    157\n    \u201cTHE FAIRIES FLED IN GREAT HASTE\u201d                             165\n    \u201cBOTH HE AND THE DOG WERE ENVELOPED IN A DEEP MIST\u201d           180\n    \u201cHE WAS BORNE ALONG SO SWIFTLY THAT HE NEARLY LOST HIS\n      SENSES\u201d                                                     199\n    \u201cHE WAS NOT CERTAIN WHETHER THE MONSTER WAS LEAPING OR\n      FLYING\u201d                                                     209\n    \u201c\u2018WHY, SURELY, YOU\u2019RE NOT THE MAN IN THE MOON?\u2019\u201d              219\n    \u201cTHE LOVELY BEING TOOK NELLIE BY THE HAND\u201d                    233\n    \u201cIT WAS A GRAND BALLOON\u201d                                      245\n    \u201cTHE MONSTER ... ADVANCED WITH A LARGE STONE\u201d                 255\n    \u201cTHE OLD MAN BENT LOW BEFORE THE ICE MONARCH\u201d                 266\n    \u201c\u2018I AM QUEEN OF THE BUTTERFLIES,\u2019 SHE REPLIED\u201d                268\n    \u201c\u2018WHAT KIND OF BIRD ARE YOU?\u2019\u201d                                295\n    \u201c\u2018YOU CAN\u2019T BE OUR JACK?\u2019\u201d                                    315\n    \u201c\u2018THOU ART VERY STRONG FOR SO SMALL A MAN\u2019\u201d                   329\n    \u201cITS EYES WERE DREADFUL TOP BEHOLD, AS IT CAME SLOWLY OUT\n      OF THE WATER.\u201d                                              352\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nAUSTRALIAN FAIRY TALES.\n\n\nGOLDEN CLOUD.\n\nA CHRISTMAS STORY FOR YOUNG PEOPLE.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nTHE LONE ROCK.\n\nAustralia! Hast thou no enchanted castles within thy vast domain? Is\nthere not one gallant youth, ready armed to do battle for the fair\nones, sleeping \u2019neath the spell of wicked genii?\n\nCome, youngsters, draw up your chairs. Come, mothers, ye who live your\nromantic girlhood o\u2019er again in that of your children. Form up,\ngentlemen, fathers, hard men of the world, whose brows are wrinkled\nwith care and worry, take rank in rear of your fair helpmates.\nMerchant, lock thy safe, close thy ledgers; horny-handed sons of toil,\nthrow aside your implements of trade; gather near. I am going to draw\naside the magic curtain which hides the great continent, marked on our\nmap UNKNOWN. Turn down the lights\u2014our magic lantern is quite ready. Hey\npresto! Look!\n\nWhy, what is this? The heart of a deep mine! A gold mine, with all its\ndim and rugged corridors, its tunnels and windings, lighted only by a\ndull taper here and there. There is no one at work, for it is Christmas\nEve. Yet the underground region is not altogether untenanted. One man\nwhose duty it is to watch the place, until relieved on the morrow, lies\ncoiled up asleep in one of the long drives. He is a young man, not\ntall, but strongly made, and with limbs like another Hercules. On\naccount of his great strength and a certain good temper combined, his\nmates call him, Samson the Nugget.\n\nFor what length of time the Nugget slumbered on this good Christmas Eve\nwill never be known. Certain it is that he suddenly opened his eyes and\nbeheld one of the biggest, and withal one of the ugliest, hulking\nfellows he had ever seen standing over him. The Nugget was a brave\nyouth, but fear began to take possession of him as he looked at the\nintruder\u2014a giant in stature, with a huge, flat head upon his shoulder,\nand a mouth as large, and about the shape of the newspaper receiver at\nthe General Post Office. He carried a lamp in his hand, but there was a\nqueer sheen from his eyes, which illumined the cavern with a fiery\nglow. His dress was a brown russet, his hat, sugar-loaf in shape, and\nhe carried a sapling for a cudgel.\n\n\u201cGet up, Samson the Nugget, and follow me,\u201d said he in a brief, gruff\ntone.\n\n\u201cWho are you?\u201d cried our hero, rising to his feet, and seizing a heavy\niron drill.\n\n\u201cI am the strongest man in Golden Cloud, and my name is Grapple,\u201d\nrejoined the other grimly. \u201cWill you come?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere?\u201d said the Nugget. \u201cThere is no way out of this mine except by\nthe cage up the shaft.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s all you know about it,\u201d returned Grapple, with a grim laugh.\n\u201cIf I find a way, have you courage to follow?\u201d\n\nThe Nugget felt inclined to refuse point blank, but curiosity being\nstrong within him, he bowed an assent.\n\nGrapple, without a word, turned on his heel and led the way further\ndown the dark recesses of the tunnel. Our hero followed. Of one thing\nthe miner felt certain\u2014that the end of the drive would effectually bar\nthe progress of his unwelcome visitor. Strange to relate, such was not\nthe case.\n\nThe narrow passage appeared to extend and widen out before their\nadvance, until it took the shape of a long railway tunnel, from which\nthe pair emerged at length into the bright beams of day. The transit\nfrom what seemed to be the bowels of a high mountain range to a\nlandscape fairer and more beautiful than our hero had ever seen, filled\nhis mind with wonder. His companion, now that daylight was upon him,\ndid not seem such an ugly customer after all. He was certainly a huge,\ngrotesque-looking personage, but there wasn\u2019t a bit of malice in\nanything he said or did.\n\nOur hero\u2019s amazement was so great, that it was some considerable time\nbefore he found words wherewith to address his companion.\n\n\u201cWhat country is this?\u201d he asked, turning to Grapple.\n\n\u201cThis is Golden Cloud.\u201d\n\n\u201cGolden Cloud! I never heard of such a place. Why did you bring me\nhere?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause I wanted a companion on my travels,\u201d rejoined the other. \u201cI\nheard you were a very strong man, and I determined to fetch you out of\nthat dismal mine, so that you might enjoy your Christmas holidays with\nme.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, indeed! very considerate on your part, my friend, but what if I\nreturn to the mine?\u201d said the Nugget.\n\n\u201cYou can\u2019t\u2014not without my aid,\u201d responded Grapple. \u201cNow don\u2019t be a\nfool. I\u2019m going on a sort of excursion into the interior, and I want a\ncompanion. We shall not be long away, and I promise to lead you safely\nback to the place from whence you came as soon as we return.\u201d\n\nThe Nugget reflected. He felt a strong desire to see something of this\nmost charming country. Besides, he saw that this strange creature had\nuttered the truth. He could not possibly find his way back to the mine\nalone.\n\nHere it must be remarked that, although our hero was only a miner, he\npossessed both intelligence and culture, not usually found in men of\nhis class. He had read much, and had a longing for the romantic, and in\nshort, in less time than it takes to write this sentence, Samson the\nNugget had resolved to go on a holiday tour with his quaint companion.\n\nIt is needless to describe their journey for the first two days;\nsuffice it that the route lay through the tangled maze of a pathless\nforest of noble trees, where branches intertwining overhead formed a\nleafy canopy for many miles. On the third day Grapple and his companion\nemerged upon a wide, extensive plain. Towering in the distance, like a\npyramid, they observed a gigantic rock standing out above the level\nexpanse around. The sun, gleaming upon its peaks and spires, gave it a\nweird, fantastic look, as if some great magician of the olden time had\nbade it rise with the lifting of his wand. As far as the vision reached\nalong the line of the horizon, the plain seemed ringed in by the\nmagnificent bushland through which they had come. Nearer, however,\nthere was a broad river flowing its slow way round the lone cliff; the\nsheen of its waves forming a massive girdle, which flashed back the\nsun\u2019s rays a thousandfold.\n\nThe evening was drawing nigh as the Nugget and Grapple approached the\nlofty crag, and they determined to pass the night beneath its\nsheltering base. For this purpose they crossed a ford on the river, and\nascended a wide slope of rich, green sward, softer than velvet, and\nentered an enclosed space, which had evidently been a most lovely\ngarden at one time. To the gaze of our hero it appeared nothing but a\nmass of weeds and ragged, bare shrubs, under which a whole multitude of\nkangaroos, emus, wallabies, wild goats, and native bears were gathered\nin wild confusion.\n\nThe Nugget was filled with amazement as he beheld these animals. Their\nnumber was countless, and the tameness with which they submitted to be\nfondled was more extraordinary still. Indeed, they never moved as the\ntwo men strode through their ranks, no more than if they had been so\nmany posts wanting life and movement. The astonishment of our hero was\nin no way diminished as they reached the western face of the supposed\nrock. Here they saw a broad flight of steps leading towards a ponderous\ngateway. The gate stood wide open, and on either side, mounted on\npillars of granite, were the carved figures of two gigantic black\nfellows, each leaning on a spear. Grapple and his companion entered the\nportal, and found themselves in a lofty corridor, supported by massive\ncolumns of polished masonry. To the right and left of them, as they\nadvanced, splendid apartments, vast in their dimensions, and\nupholstered with costly furniture, met their gaze. It was not the\nmagnitude of the place, nor the fine things therein, which filled them\nwith such speechless amazement, but the wonderful statuary they saw.\nThese figures were in every room, and were so life-like in their\ndimensions and appearance, that the Nugget was fain to believe that\nthey were flesh and blood. Ladies and gentlemen were represented quite\nnaturally, and in various places and functions. Yonder a group were\nseated round the banquet in the act of eating. There another group,\nmostly ladies, gossipping and laughing. Some had been chiselled\nwalking, some kneeling, others hissing, many reading. The same view met\nthe travellers from one end of this strange mansion to the other.\nNothing could seem more substantial, more real, than these beautiful\nmodels, attired as they were in robes of gorgeous hue and texture, but\nforeign and altogether unfamiliar to our hero, who often touched them\nwith his hand. Twenty times he addressed them, but not one answered.\nThey were only images, nothing more. Body, limbs, robes\u2014all were cold\nand hard as stone to the touch.\n\nTheir curiosity appeased, our hero and his companion selected a small\nbut comfortable apartment wherein to pass the night. They had killed a\nkangaroo the previous day, from the remains of which they dined; then\nthey retired, and both were soon fast asleep.\n\nThe Nugget had scarcely closed his eyes, however, ere he was roused by\nthe application of a hard whack on the drum of his left ear.\n\nNow it chanced that Grapple lay on that side of the Nugget and judging\nhastily, as people are apt to do under similar conditions, our hero\nsprang up, and began to pound his bedfellow soundly.\n\n\u201cHold! stop! What is this all about?\u201d cried poor Grapple.\n\n\u201cDid you not give me a blow?\u201d demanded the Nugget fiercely.\n\n\u201cI? Certainly not.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, indeed! I suppose the man in the moon did it. There are only two\nof us here, sir,\u201d cried the Nugget.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll swear I did not do it. Your blows awakened me.\u201d\n\n\u201cHumph! It is very strange,\u201d cried they, and they grumbled at each\nother until they fell asleep again.\n\nNot long did the pair enjoy repose. This time Grapple started up with a\nyell of agony.\n\n\u201cCoward!\u201d he cried, and without further warning he fell upon the Nugget\nand tried to choke him. We have said that Samson was a powerful fellow.\nExerting the full force of his muscles, he overpowered his adversary,\nand briefly demanded an explanation.\n\n\u201cWretched, false friend! what have I done that you should stab me with\nyour knife?\u201d cried Grapple, with a groan.\n\nThe young miner burst out in a hearty guffaw.\n\n\u201cLook here, my friend,\u201d he replied quickly, \u201cI think both of us have\nbeen the dupes of some rascally enemies hereabout. I receive a thump on\nthe ear, you a wound in the leg, when both of us are sound asleep. Mum!\nLet us to slumber again. Daylight will be here anon; in the meantime, I\nwill keep watch to discover our lurking foe.\u201d\n\nGrapple assented. Having bound up his leg the travellers lay down again\nas if nothing had happened.\n\nThe Nugget, however, slept like a cat, otherwise he would not have seen\nthe most withered, and, at the same time, most repulsive-looking\nindividual in the world stealing noiselessly out on tip-toe from behind\none of the statues in the corridor. The day was breaking, and every\nobject could be clearly distinguished. Watching the intruder, our hero\nsaw he was a dwarf, and a very ugly one. The body of the wee monster\nwas like an ale keg, from which protruded short, sturdy limbs. His\nhands were dreadfully large, the skin knobbed and gnarled like the bark\nof a tree. A head, the counterpart of a Christmas pudding with a slice\ncut out for a mouth, a parsnip for a nose, and a pair of agates for\neyes, and you have a rough photograph of the wretch that now advanced\nas stealthily as a shadow toward our hero and his companion.\n\nAs he drew near the prostrate pair he stooped over the Nugget to\ninflict a blow on his head. Our hero bounded up and tried to catch his\nfoe. Vain effort. With the agility and quickness of a professional\nwrestler, the dwarf upset the astonished digger as if he had been no\nmore than a schoolboy; then, fleeing along the corridor, he cleared the\nsteps of the gate at one bound and ran swiftly across the garden\ntowards the river.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nMOTHER DOT.\n\nSamson the Nugget was taken \u201call aback,\u201d as the sailors say, at the\nunexpected attack of his wee but nimble opponent. Yet, before the dwarf\nhad time to reach the garden wall, our hero was up and pursued his foe.\nLike a kangaroo when the hunters are in full cry, the little man\nbounded down the slope leading to the river, over the stream, and away\nacross the open space, with prodigious leaps rather than with the\nstride of a runner. Tally-ho! A stern chase is a long chase, but in\nthis case the adage could not be applied, inasmuch as our hero was\nsound in wind and limb, and, moreover, he was a sturdy pedestrian.\n\nHe soon gained upon his antagonist, when the latter, ready and fertile\nin devices, adopted tactics which gave him an advantage, and enabled\nhim to over-reach his pursuer. They were on the edge of the bushland\nwhich bordered the plain, and the dwarf, slacking speed, suffered\nSamson to approach within arm\u2019s length, when, turning suddenly, he cast\nhimself flat down, whereupon our hero went sprawling headlong over him.\nLaughing triumphantly, the dwarf sprang to his feet, and jumped off\nagain in the cover of the bush.\n\nAs the miner recovered himself and resumed the pursuit, he observed the\nchase unexpectedly disappear from view behind a tuft of coarse grass\nand weeds growing at the base of a gigantic blood-tree. Thinking the\nantic sprite was forming another trap, the young miner approached the\nspot cautiously. It was lucky he did so, for in parting the rubbish\naside he discovered a wide, deep hole, about the dimensions of an\nordinary well. There were neither steps nor ladder down this gaping\npit, whose bottom lay far beneath the ken of Samson the Nugget, who\nstood gazing down the dim void, wondering if the little monster had\nvanished down it by some potent agency only known to himself. Watching\nand waiting, Samson satisfied himself that the dwarf had certainly gone\ndown the hole, and he determined to follow him.\n\nWith this object in view, our hero marked the spot and retraced his way\nto the rock. Grapple still slept soundly. Not wishing to disturb him,\nthe Nugget proceeded to the rear of the premises, where he found a long\nstout rope. With it he returned to the well. Having securely fastened\none end of the rope to the tree, he threw the remainder down the chasm,\nand then began to descend hand over hand. It cannot be denied that this\nwas a dangerous undertaking, but the Nugget, being a digger, and not\nlacking in pluck, the cost was not considered. From the first moment\nour hero had set eyes on the little monster it had somehow come to him\nthat the sprite was in some mysterious manner connected with all the\nruin and wreck he had seen at the rock.\n\nClinging firmly to the rope, the Nugget descended until he reached the\nend of it. Looking far down he beheld the same dark void, apparently\nbottomless. While he swayed to and fro like a toy at the end of a\nstring, his pendant body thumped against something that sounded dull\nand hollow, and he saw he had burst open a secret door in the wall.\nPlanting his foot firmly on the threshold of the aperture, the\nadventurer let go the rope and found himself in a low, arched cavern.\nThe extremity brought him face to face with a bright landscape, varying\nboth in hue and shade from the region he had just quitted. Right before\nhim a tiny cascade of pure spring water spurted from the breast of the\ncliff on which he stood, and meandered its course through a belt of\ntrees so quiet and silent that our hero felt appalled at its stillness.\nThere was a broad, well-worn pathway down into the dell, and the Nugget\nmade his way thither. As he walked smartly along, looking right and\nleft of him, he espied a very ancient dame seated upon a bundle of\nfirewood she had evidently gathered. By her side were two large baskets\nof wild fruit.\n\n\u201cGood-morrow, ma\u2019am,\u201d cried the miner, courteously lifting his hat.\n\u201cPray have you seen a very ugly little man pass this way?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy son, all men are lovely in my eyes,\u201d replied the crone, and she\nlooked at him with eyes that gleamed like the orbs of a cat in the\ndarkness. \u201cDo you know, I\u2019m right glad you came this way. You look\nstrong. Will you carry my parcels for me?\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly I will,\u201d replied the Nugget cheerfully. \u201cWhere do you live?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy hut stands on the range yonder, on the other side of this bush.\nDear me, how tired I am to be sure!\u201d\n\nHow her cat\u2019s eyes glowed as she looked at him! The Nugget did not see\nnor heed anything about the old woman; his whole thoughts were centred\non the capture of his foe.\n\n\u201cCome, madam,\u201d said he, \u201cone good turn deserves another. Tell me where\nI may find the fellow I seek, and I\u2019ll carry your goods and yourself on\ntop of them.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, good youth, haste is a bad master. If you seek for Dusk in haste,\nyou\u2019ll never find him.\u201d\n\n\u201cDusk! Who\u2019s Dusk, mother?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe dwarf you came to find,\u201d she answered quickly. \u201cBeware, he\u2019s a\ncunning sprite.\u201d\n\nThe Nugget laughed. \u201cI should only like the opportunity to measure\nweapons with the cowardly little imp,\u201d he said. \u201cHave you seen him?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; he passed this way not an hour ago,\u201d she answered.\n\n\u201cThank you, dame. I\u2019m off!\u201d exclaimed our hero, hastily preparing to\nfollow.\n\n\u201cNay, good sir, you promised to carry my things,\u201d responded the dame.\n\n\u201cBother your things! I\u2019ll return and carry them when I\u2019ve caught Mr.\nDusk.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will have trouble for nothing if you try it,\u201d she replied, her\neyes glowing like coals of fire. \u201cFulfil your promise to me and I will\nhelp you.\u201d\n\n\u201cAgreed,\u201d cried our hero. \u201cMake haste, good dame. Place the sticks upon\nmy back and the baskets on my arms. That\u2019s it. Now come along.\u201d\n\nSamson the Nugget, strong and powerful as he undoubtedly was, pulled a\nwry face as the load was put upon his person. The bundle of firewood\nseemed as heavy to him as so many bars of solid gold, while the baskets\nappeared to have been suddenly freighted with ingots of lead, the\nweight of which almost took away his breath. Nevertheless, our hero,\nnothing daunted, made an effort, and proceeded onward with his burden.\nNow, so long as the Nugget trod on level ground he managed pretty well,\nbut when he came to the range and began its ascent, with the loose\nstones rolling from under his feet at every step, the man\u2019s immense\nmuscular strength began to fail. Drops of perspiration stood upon his\nface and ran down his back, now hot, now cold.\n\n\u201cMy good woman!\u201d he cried, \u201cI can go no farther till I have rested.\u201d\n\n\u201cRested!\u201d repeated the hag in scornful accents. \u201cHear the boaster. This\nis the man in search of Dusk, the strong. Hear him! He would attack the\nall-powerful genii; and yet, forsooth, he cannot carry what an old\nwoman like me has so often borne up hill and down dale. Faugh!\u201d\n\nThe Nugget put up his back like a vicious mule, and attempted to get\nrid of his load; but the sticks and the baskets clung to him as if\nthese articles had grown there.\n\n\u201cWill you go on, sir?\u201d cried the crone, with a mocking laugh.\n\nThe Nugget answered not; but with a vigorous effort tried to rid\nhimself of the encumbrance. Vain task; his efforts only wearied him.\nMoreover, the hag made matters worse by jumping up upon the bundle of\nsticks; and though lean and withered as she certainly appeared, our\nhero felt her additional weight to be more than that of the stoutest\nwench of his acquaintance. To kick against the pricks was useless. So\nSamson, like a wise fellow, staggered on as he best could to the end of\nhis journey. Arrived at the hut, the dame became kindness itself. She\nplaced food and drink of the choicest kind before him, and when he had\nrefreshed himself, said,\u2014\n\n\u201cYoung man, your task has been a severe one, but the reward I shall\nbestow will be all the greater on that account. For over twenty years\nno one has ever been found who could carry my parcels for me until\nto-day.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t care to go shopping with you again in a hurry,\u201d muttered the\nNugget, stretching out his tired limbs.\n\n\u201cI have neither money nor property to give you,\u201d she continued; \u201cbut my\ngift shall be more valuable to you than both combined. Behold! This is\nthe horn of an enchanted ram. The animal was bred by my great\ngrandsire, the King of Moonshine, and the relic has been handed down to\nme. Take it, my son, and let me caution you to use its wonderful power\nwisely. With that in your possession, Dusk, the griffin, cannot escape\nyou. For whatever you may wish for this relic shall supply.\u201d\n\nWith these words Mother Dot placed in the young man\u2019s hand a small,\ncurled horn, highly polished, and on which were engraven three figures,\nand some words, in a language he did not understand, written beneath\nthem. The Nugget thanked the old lady for her gift, and having\nsufficiently refreshed and rested himself, he set forward in search of\nDusk, the dwarf.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nDUSK\u2019S STRONGHOLD.\n\nTo say that our hero felt satisfied with the treatment he had received\nat the hands of Mother Dot would be to state an untruth. He was not\nsatisfied. He had a latent suspicion that the hag was in some way or\nother leagued with his enemy. Under these circumstances he therefore\nthrust her gift into his pocket, and went in search of the ugly dwarf.\nFor hours he wandered about without seeing a vestige of any living\nthing. He began to feel tired and hungry, and darkness was approaching\nfast. What should he do? Try and find his way back again to where he\nhad left Grapple? No, the giant would only laugh at him.\n\nHe suddenly bethought him to try the old woman\u2019s gift. She had said\nthat whatever he might wish for should be gratified. His first and\ndearest wish was to find the whereabouts of the dwarf. So he put the\nrelic to the test. Swift and potent indeed was the effect. Scarcely had\nthe desire taken shape in his mind ere his eyes beheld a massive\nstructure about the distance of a mile right ahead of him. The building\nwas surrounded by a high wall, and looked more like a gaol than\nanything else.\n\nAs he drew near, the young miner observed a strong iron door in the\nwall, at which he began to knock.\n\n\u201cWho\u2019s there? What want you here?\u201d resounded from a hoarse voice\nbelonging to an enormous head and face, which at that moment protruded\nitself over the battlement.\n\n\u201cDoes the dwarf they call Dusk reside here?\u201d demanded our hero.\n\n\u201cHe does, but he\u2019s not at home. Go away, you mite, before I come and\ncrush your bones together.\u201d\n\n\u201cTry,\u201d responded the Nugget. \u201cAs for the dwarf, I believe the rascal is\nhere, and I mean to enter and satisfy myself on that point.\u201d\n\n\u201cBegone, you wretched ant\u2014you insect!\u201d roared the monster passionately.\n\n\u201cA fig for your bluster, you bundle of ugliness,\u201d responded our hero.\n\nThe face disappeared as suddenly as the policeman in the puppet show,\nand immediately the iron door opened wide, disclosing a\nhorrible-looking fellow, several feet taller than Grapple, and armed\nwith a well-seasoned sapling about the dimensions of a verandah post.\n\n\u201cNow, you flea, you miserable son-in-law of a blow-fly, what have you\nto say before I smash you up?\u201d cried the giant, purple with rage.\n\nWithout answer, Samson sprang through the open doorway. As he did so,\nthe monster aimed a crushing blow at his head. Ducking like an otter,\nNugget avoided the ponderous bludgeon, which fell upon the door and\ntore it from its hinges. Quick as the swoop of a hawk, he seized a\nfragment of iron and dealt his gigantic antagonist an awkward whack\nfull upon his stomach, which tumbled him down, as if he had been shot,\nand there he lay quite helpless.\n\nThe Nugget, without troubling about his adversary, entered the\nbuilding; but he had not advanced beyond the porch before another and\nmore formidable foe confronted him. Strongly built, and as sturdy as\nthe trunk of an old oak, monster number two appeared neither man nor\nfish, but a strange combination of both. It had eyes and mouth like a\nfish, and as many legs and arms as an octopus, each member being armed\nat the extremities with spikes as sharp as steel.\n\n\u201cWhat seekest thou?\u201d it bellowed forth, with the lungs of a bull.\n\n\u201cI seek the antic sprite, Dusk,\u201d replied the undaunted Samson.\n\n\u201cPoor, mean earthworm, knowest thou not that the mighty Dusk is lord\nand master here in Twilight?\u201d\n\n\u201cPray conduct me to his lordship.\u201d\n\n\u201cHence! at once, or I\u2019ll roast you like a crab,\u201d said the man-fish.\n\n\u201cStuff! You\u2019ll find me tough eating,\u201d replied the Nugget, at the same\ntime drawing forth the ram\u2019s horn, and changing it into a light, handy\nsword.\n\nThe monster grinned in disdain. Stretching forth his long arms, he\ntried to clutch our hero, but the Nugget cleverly avoided him. Then\nbegan a fierce combat between them. Here and there, up and down, with\nringing blows, the duel became very exciting and sanguinary, till the\nman-fish, losing his temper and his breath together, received the coup\nde gr\u00e2ce, and was hurled headlong down the terrace steps.\n\nAll further opposition seemed at an end with the death of the second\nmonster, and our hero wended his way into the interior of the mansion.\nAs he proceeded, he found the place was not at all so gloomy as might\nbe expected from an outside view of it. Indeed, he discovered it was a\nlarge building, and furnished in excellent taste. The walls of the\nvarious apartments were hung with silk and velvet of chaste pattern and\nhue. Couches and chairs richly carved, with marble tables decked with\nchoicest flowers and fruits, were reflected in mirrors on the walls,\nwhich were more elaborate than those of old Venice. Parrots of the\ngayest plumage, rare birds in golden cages, soft, sparkling fountains,\nand a delicious perfume of flowers, all made up a magnificent whole\nthat was worthy the dwelling-place of a king.\n\nWith hasty steps our hero wandered through many rooms, hoping to\ndiscover the dwarf. His wandering brought him to a grand staircase, the\nsteps of which were covered with Cashmere velvet, bordered with satin\nflowers. A bronze stand, curiously ornamented, supported a large globe\nof white crystal at the head of the stairway. The Nugget could not help\npausing to admire this beautiful piece of workmanship. The crystal ball\nwas so dazzling bright that it made his eyes ache to look upon it.\n\n\u201cWhat a strange ball!\u201d he said, shading his sight with his hand, and\napproaching close to it. \u201cHow large it is! It seems large enough to\nhold that rascal Dusk. What if he should be hiding here? Perhaps it is\nsolid. Humph! I\u2019ll try it. Ball, crystal ball, if thou art hollow, by\nmy ram\u2019s horn, I command thee! Open!\u201d\n\nBefore the words had left his lips the globe slowly split in twain;\nwhile from within there rose before his wondering sight\u2014not the ugly\nsprite\u2014but the graceful form of a lovely young maiden.\n\nNever in the life of this poor digger, either in his waking sense or in\ndreams, had he seen any woman so enchantingly lovely. In olden times\nmen were blessed with visions of the angels, and they essayed to\npicture what they had seen. Yet how crude the forms of Cherubim and\nSeraphim both on canvas and on page to the glorious reality!\n\nIf Samson the Nugget had been gifted with the descriptive powers of the\nworld-renowned war correspondent, I\u2019m afraid the twenty-six letters in\nour alphabet would not have been sufficient to convey any idea of the\nbeauty of this damsel upon whom he gazed. Her complexion was like that\ndelicate tint we see upon the pearl shell, and her hair shone like\nburnished gold.\n\n\u201cWho art thou, fair lady?\u201d cried the Australian youth, gallantly\nadvancing with outstretched hands to assist her from the pedestal\nwhereon she had been imprisoned.\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d she answered, weeping, \u201cI am the daughter of King Golden Cloud,\nand my name is Silverhaze. Because I would not consent to become the\nwife of a wicked dwarf, named Dusk, he stole me from my home, and\nconveying me here, enclosed me in yon crystal globe.\u201d\n\nNo ring-dove cooing for its mate had softer, sweeter voice than\nPrincess Silverhaze. Our hero led her down the stairway and placed her\non a couch by the window. Seating himself at her feet he briefly\nexplained to her the part he had taken in search of their common foe.\n\n\u201cWhere is Golden Cloud, your home?\u201d he said. \u201cI swear I will not rest\nuntil I have placed you safe again in the arms of your kith and kin.\u201d\n\n\u201cThou art a brave youth,\u201d answered the Princess, looking down at him\nwith eyes that sparkled gratitude. \u201cIf thou canst indeed take me from\nthis horrid place, my father will load thee with honours, and poor\nSilverhaze will love thee always.\u201d\n\nAh me! Who shall write the Nugget\u2019s answer? Who shall detail his\nconfusion, his stammerings, his schoolboy blushes? Not I, my young\nfriends. Wise old Atha knows full well how near the Love God dangles to\nyourselves\u2014how near ye are to the reality without the ideal being\nstamped on this page to point the way.\n\nIn considerably less time than it takes to pen these lines, the\nPrincess had decided to trust her fortunes to the pluck and gallantry\nof her young champion. But in the midst of their plans they were\nunexpectedly confronted by their deadly enemy\u2014Dusk\u2014armed to the teeth.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nTHE RING-DOVE.\n\nFairyland can produce nothing so wonderful as the facility with which\nsundry mortals can extend their faces. To smile widely is the fashion\nwith us nowadays, and it is very wonderful indeed to note the various\nmethods of its accomplishment. If the human face be a mask (and who\nshall say it is not?) then what maskers promenade our streets with\ntheir masks set smiling\u2014as one would set a watch or a clock! Bowing and\nsmirking is the latest humbug, and even the mere soulless puppets, born\nof men\u2019s brains, must smack of it, else they are voted untrue to life\nand nature.\n\nThere was a set smile on the ugly face of Dusk, the dwarf, as he bowed\nto Silverhaze and our hero; but the sprite had not been educated in a\nmortal school. He lacked polish. Malignity shone in his eyes and in\nevery corner of his wicked mouth.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t move, I pray,\u201d he said slowly; \u201cmy slaves are entirely at your\nservice. Why don\u2019t you summon them to do your bidding? Ho, ho, ho!\u201d And\nhis mocking laugh rang through the vaulted passages like a bugle-call.\n\nPoor Silverhaze began to tremble, and clung to the Nugget for support,\nwhile the youth in his turn tried his utmost to calm her fears.\n\nThe dwarf eyed them with a sinister look. \u201cVery charming for my fay,\u201d\nhe ejaculated, rubbing his bony hands together. \u201cVery loving and\ntender, oh, my doves. What tender morsels you\u2019ll make for mince-pies!\nMy cook, Pancake Parecheese, will be delighted with you. He, he, hi!\u201d\nHe turned about as he spoke, and clapped his hands together as a\nsignal. Almost immediately the room became filled with armed monsters.\n\n\u201cHa!\u201d cried Dusk in mocking sarcasm. \u201cYou break into my house, kill my\nservants, and rob me of my coveted prize. Slaves, take this man away\nand boil him down.\u201d\n\nIt was a dreadful order. To cook a man like a leg of mutton or a shin\nof beef! Good heavens! it was awful. But the dwarf, powerful as he was,\nlittle dreamed of the amazing influence of the ram\u2019s horn. By its\npotent force our hero set the whole army of monsters by the ears, who\nfell foul of and slew each other. Not satisfied with this, they set\nfire to the mansion, where, amidst the conflagration, those who were\nnot slain perished in the flames.\n\nAt the beginning of the fray our hero seized the dwarf, and\ntransforming him into a donkey, placed the King\u2019s daughter on his back,\nand retraced his steps to Mother Dot\u2019s hut on the cliff. The dame came\nout at their approach, and at the sight of her the ass began to bray\nloudly.\n\n\u201cThou wicked sprite!\u201d she cried, shaking her staff over him. \u201cThou\ncamest to me in sore need, and I gave thee power. How hast thou used my\ngift? Why, to evil. Beast thou art, and a beast thou shalt remain for\nevermore.\u201d\n\nThe donkey drew back his long ears, and kicked spitefully, for fully\nfive minutes, at the decree. Meanwhile, Mother Dot took the young\nPrincess and her companion into the hut, and placed refreshment before\nthem. It was amusing to see the attention the Nugget bestowed upon the\nfair young creature by his side, and to note the tell-tale blushes\nwhich ever and anon suffused her face as their eyes or their hands\nchanced to meet. Even the old crone, who wasn\u2019t looking their way,\nnodded her ancient head, muttered, and chuckled in a wise way, as if\nshe had known it all beforehand.\n\nThe meal ended, Silverhaze approached the dame and whispered, \u201cDear\nMother Dot, who is this gallant youth who has delivered me from the\nwicked dwarf?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, he will tell you soon, my pearl,\u201d she answered with a leer;\n\u201cmeantime, he\u2019s called the Knight of the Ram\u2019s Horn.\u201d\n\nPresently the Nugget drew near the old woman, and plucking her by the\nsleeve, said, \u201cDame, canst tell what I am to do with this gentle\nmaiden?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, my son. Thou hast conquered the evil Dusk, therefore to thee\nshall be the proud service of restoring Princess Silverhaze to her\nhome.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere is her home, good dame?\u201d\n\n\u201cThou hast seen it,\u201d answered the old woman. \u201cThat rock on the plain is\nthe palace of King Golden Cloud. This damsel is the King\u2019s only child.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhew!\u201d cried Samson, taking off his hat. \u201cWhy, mother, the place is a\nwretched ruin.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo it is, and there stands the spoiler,\u201d replied the crone, pointing\nto the ass. \u201cDusk the dwarf coveted the Pearl of Golden Cloud for his\nwife, and when she denied him, the base wretch stole her from thence,\nand to hide the deed, he committed a greater one, as people generally\ndo who begin to do evil. By the dwarf\u2019s enchantments, the King, Queen,\nladies, nobles, courtiers, and every soul within the palace were\ntransformed into the likeness of stone images. The guards who attempted\nto rescue the King\u2019s daughter were changed into a horde of wild animals\non the spot, while the matchless garden, the wonder and beauty of a\nkingdom, became a wide waste.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat a wicked monster!\u201d cried our hero indignantly.\n\n\u201cAh! my son; but thanks to thy strong back and unfaltering courage the\nspell is broken, and his power is gone for ever. If thou hadst failed\nwith the burden I gave thee, then would Silverhaze be still confined\nwithin the crystal globe.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am very glad to have rescued the lady,\u201d he replied; \u201cbut, mother, I\ncould not have accomplished it without your aid. Even now I am at a\nloss how to proceed.\u201d\n\nThe old dame looked at him, and began to chuckle.\n\n\u201cMarry! art not thou the Knight of the Ram\u2019s Horn? Ha! ha! hi! hi!\u201d\n\nSo tickled did she appear at this somewhat ambiguous question that she\nlaughed till the building trembled to its foundation, and she no sooner\nrecovered from one guffaw than she went off into another, until it\nended in a severe fit of coughing.\n\nSamson the Nugget was rather surprised at the old lady\u2019s merriment.\nThere really seemed nothing to laugh at. How was he to find the way to\nthat subterraneous passage by which he had come? And, moreover,\nsupposing he found it, how was he to convey the Princess up the steep\nsides of the black chasm?\n\nThe whole thing had been feasible enough if the ram\u2019s horn had still\nremained in his possession, but the relic had mysteriously gone from\nhim the moment he re-entered the old woman\u2019s hut.\n\nAfter many futile attempts at choking, Mother Dot recovered\nsufficiently to say,\u2014\n\n\u201cSir Knight, be not troubled concerning the maiden. I will find means\nto send ye both to Golden Cloud.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, dame, I repeat the place is a ruin.\u201d\n\n\u201cTut! To thee it seemeth so,\u201d she answered shortly. \u201cI will undo the\nspell cast upon it, and thou shalt see it in all its former\nmagnificence. The statues shall rouse them from their long sleep and\ngive ye welcome. I have said it.\u201d\n\nThe dame hobbled to a pretty cage, and took therefrom a beautiful\nring-dove which perched tamely on her finger and began to coo. Bending\nher mouth towards its beak she whispered a few words, and the dove flew\naway and was lost to sight in a moment.\n\n\u201cCome, Sir Knight; come, Princess. You must now set forth on your\njourney to Golden Cloud,\u201d continued Mother Dot. \u201cWe will all mount upon\nthe back of the ass, who shall bear us to Moonshine, after which you\nwill have no difficulty in reaching your destination.\u201d\n\nThe miserable donkey gave forth a loud bray of dissent at the undue\nweight placed upon him, but a few sound thumps, administered with the\nold lady\u2019s crutch, soon quieted him. The dark night had fallen round\nthem ere they reached the frontier which divides Golden Cloud from\nWork-a-Day.\n\nAt this point Dame Dot dismounted, and, taking leave of the Princess\nand her companion, said,\u2014\n\n\u201cWe part here, for I cannot cross this line. Remember me to His Majesty\nand the Queen. Farewell!\u201d\n\nThe crone vanished, together with the ass, and left the King\u2019s daughter\nand her champion standing on the threshold of two worlds\u2014the known and\nunknown.\n\nOn this borderland they beheld on one side a dim, imperfect light, out\nof which came voices filled with groans and sobs. The air trembled with\ncountless sighs, upborne from millions of aching hearts; but the rush\nand the roar, and the hurry-skurry of tumult and bustle swallowed up\nthe sounds. The other side gleamed soft and clear, with roseate\nshadows. There was no cry of pain, no wail of despair there.\n\n\u201cThis is our way,\u201d the Princess said, and they left the obscure\nreflection behind them and went onward into the light.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nGOLDEN CLOUD.\n\nAway beyond the sound of tears the mortal and his companion wandered.\nIn the distance shone the glinting crest of a winding river, and as\nthey drew near it the King\u2019s daughter clapped her hands together in\nrapture. \u201cLook, look!\u201d she said. \u201cThis is Golden Cloud. It is my home.\u201d\n\n\u201cGolden Cloud! Where?\u201d The wondering gaze of the Australian youth\nturned east, west, south, and north. According to the landmarks in many\nplaces, this was certainly the river over which he had chased the\ndwarf; but lo! how changed. Could yonder towering edifice, bristling\nwith lofty towers and domes, be that gloomy rock where he had left his\ncompanion, Grapple, asleep?\n\nPeaks and turrets glittered under the soft light, sending untold rays\naslant terrace and fountain, and upon the bright forms of dame and\ncavalier promenading to and fro.\n\nCould this far-stretching vista be that bare plain over which he had\npassed? This with its gleaming cascades whose ripplings rivalled the\nlullaby of the bulbul? This with its leafy arches, and long, winding\navenues, looped with clustering vines, whose stems were bent \u2019neath\nfruited gems? What bowers of green, bedecked with diamond drops and\npearls of May dew!\n\nDown where the stream flowed, the firmament, with its clustering hosts\nof stars, was mirrored on the liquid floor; while o\u2019er the intervening\nspace there floated sounds that might have ravished the senses even of\na German Jew.\n\nCadence of bird and insect never fell before so soft and dulcet upon\nheaven-tuned ears. From its hundred windows the palace of King Golden\nCloud beamed forth with light and beauty to welcome back its lost\ndaughter. Welcome from bud and blossom, ringed with fire-flies, and\nwhose ever-changing shimmer flashes a rainbow-hued light to guide their\nsteps.\n\nGlorious Golden Cloud! Many of us poor, fading weeds of sorrow would\nfain climb thy hill-top, if but to rest our weary souls for one brief\nmoment in thy quiet groves. Oh! what sordid slaves are we who worship\nat those iron gates, whose recompense are wrinkled brows and silvered\nhair. Great Fetish of the world, the flesh, and the devil, I bow the\nknee to thee no more. Day by day I hear the cry of groaning thousands,\nthat struggle for a bare existence around thy temple, calling to thee\nin vain. In vain they call, and vain thy power to help them. Oh thou\ncold and doubly-cursed humbug of the teeming world.\n\nStanding there amidst the circle of things pure and beautiful, the\nKnight of the Ram\u2019s Horn beheld the approach of a pretty ring-dove\ntowards them, with a grand barge of state following across the river.\nThe boat drew up almost at their feet, and Silverhaze cried out, \u201cSee,\nthis is the King\u2019s Chamberlain, Sir Bumble Bee Popgun.\u201d\n\nAs the damsel spoke, an aged figure ascended from the boat, and doffing\nhis jewelled hat, bent low before her. \u201cThe King of Golden Cloud hath\nmourned for his Pearl\u2014his child,\u201d he said in mellifluous accents.\n\nPrincess Silverhaze smiled, and stooping, whispered something in his\near, then entered the barge on the arm of her doughty knight.\n\nOver the stream they went and up the hill at the farther side, which\npresented overhead a leafy arcade, where myriads of glow-worms infused\na coloured sheen athwart the brilliant uniforms of the King\u2019s Guards\nwho walled the way up to the very gates of the palace. A great\nconcourse of nobles thronged the entrance to the royal residence and\ncheered the Princess as she passed round on the arm of our hero. Sir\nBumble Bee led the way through throngs of bowing lackeys to the King\u2019s\nchamber\u2014a large hall of state\u2014where, seated on a magnificent dais, our\nhero beheld the King and Queen of Golden Cloud waiting to embrace their\ndaughter. The chamber was thronged with ladies and gentlemen. The\nformer wore purple robes, with blue and white mantles, which floated\nabout with the faintest breath. Many who stood in the presence of the\nQueen had robes like silver, and each had a brilliant star fixed in her\nhair. The Nugget noticed these were most beautiful women, their\ncomplexions seeming to take the brilliancy from the light by which they\nwere surrounded. The young Knight of the Ram\u2019s Horn saw all this at a\nglance, for he had an eye for the beautiful, but his vision could not\ntake in half the things that were around him.\n\nFor some considerable time he appeared to have been forgotten, so great\nwas the excitement on the return of the Princess. But when the stir had\nsomewhat subsided, the King\u2019s daughter briefly detailed the exploits of\nour hero; how he had not only rescued her from the hands of the wicked\ndwarf Dusk, but that he by his courage had restored the kingdom of\nGolden Cloud.\n\nMore than we have space to detail, Silverhaze said in our hero\u2019s\nfavour, and he was led forward to the throne, where the Queen embraced\nhim and seated him on her footstool. The King, not to be outdone on\nthis occasion, made a speech in praise of courage generally, and of the\ncourage displayed by the Nugget in particular. This oration lasted some\nsix hours and a quarter, and occupied about twenty-seven columns in the\nShadow Land Observer.\n\nThe return of Silverhaze and the restoration of Golden Cloud caused\nuniversal rejoicing throughout the land. His Majesty was so well\npleased with Nugget that he conferred upon him the Order of the Moon\nand the rank of Prince, and to crown all, said he should marry Princess\nSilverhaze. And they were married.\n\nAh, me! Wonderful, amazingly wonderful, the rank and splendour of that\nwedding-day! But it was over at last, and the lovers were left alone to\nenjoy their billing and cooing together.\n\n\n\n\u201cCome, Samson, wake up, man. Are you going to sleep all Christmas Day?\u201d\ncried a gruff voice. And the Nugget, sitting up and rubbing his eyes,\nsaw that he was still in the drive of the gold mine, with his relieving\nmate standing over him.\n\nThe poor fellow\u2014HAD ONLY DREAMED.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTWILIGHT.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nBARON THIMBLE.\n\nA winter night, with a thick fog rising above the Sandridge marshes,\nand spreading itself over the city of Melbourne. People released from\ntoil were hurrying home to tea and a pleasant fireside. Others, who\nneither toil nor spin, and had no home or fireside, glided slowly and\nnoiselessly through the mist like ghosts, or stood shivering before the\ndamp window-panes or lit-up shops and dining-rooms, feasting their\nhungry eyes on the good things within.\n\nBusiness in the city was very dull, and money very scarce. Money is\nscarce at all times with a great many mortals, I am aware, but the\npresent depression was felt everywhere throughout the colony.\n\nTom Brock, the barber, standing in his little shop at the corner of\nGertrude Street Fitzroy, felt the hardness of the times as keenly as\nany member of the community, inasmuch as Tom had a large family of\ngrowing children to provide for, and customers had been anything but\nnumerous of late. Indeed, the poor shaver was beginning to think that\nthe primeval fashion of suffering the hair and beard to grow in wild\nluxuriance on the heads and faces of his race had become the order of\nthe day, and from henceforth he could exclaim with Shakespeare\u2019s\ngallant Moor\u2014\u201cOthello\u2019s occupation\u2019s gone.\u201d\n\nOn this winter night the barber was alone in his shop, busy stropping\nhis razors for want of more lucrative employment. Like most of his\ncraft, Tom Brock was a great talker. It was part and parcel of his\nstock-in-trade; and, by the way, it is wonderful to note upon what a\nvariety of subjects barbers can talk. Our hero was no exception to the\nrule in this respect. Having no one in the place to engage in\nconversation, he ceased stropping, and gazing into the large mirror\nopposite, addressed himself to what he saw there with charming irony in\nhis tone.\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re a handsome fellow, Tom Brock, a very pretty fellow indeed. Only\nI\u2019m afraid looks won\u2019t go for much in this case. Here you are from\neight o\u2019clock this morning, and you\u2019ve almost earned one and sixpence,\naccording to the multiplication table. Just fancy this grand sum of\neighteen pence per diem, sir, for the maintenance of eleven\npersons\u2014father, mother, and nine young Brocks, whose appetites this\ncold weather are something to astonish Soyer the Frenchman. Don\u2019t smile\nat me, sir; I\u2019m in no humour for jesting. Humph! how foolish to try and\nquarrel with one\u2019s shadow! Yet I\u2019ve known men do that, before\nto-night.\u201d\n\nHe settled himself down with a sigh in the easy chair, and crossed his\nlegs one over the other. \u201cI wonder if the portrait and the\nsuperscription of Her Majesty the Queen is still upon the coinage of\nthis realm?\u201d continued the barber, speaking at the image in the mirror.\n\u201cIt\u2019s such a time since I handled a golden coin that, upon my life, I\nalmost forget what they are like; perhaps that is the reason why I feel\nsuch an uncontrollable desire to look upon one at this moment. Nay, not\none, but several\u2014in short, several hundreds. Pooh, what rubbish you\u2019re\ntalking, Tom Brock, you penniless rascal!\u201d\n\nThe poor barber smiled at the idea of the thing, and the fellow in the\nmirror smiled in company. \u201cReady cash is a very handy thing to have at\none\u2019s command, especially when it is urgently needed, as in my case,\u201d\nsaid Tom, looking sternly at his reflection. \u201cI\u2019ve often heard fellows\nsneer at money, and call it strange names; yet I\u2019ve noted that these\nsame revilers were always mighty eager to gather it in when they have\nhad an opportunity. Moreover, I\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\nBrock the barber paused suddenly in his soliloquy; for he beheld within\nthe radius of the looking-glass another form besides the reflection of\nhimself. A little man, with a peculiar cast of face and features, stood\nbehind the chair, with his arms akimbo, and his old-looking head on one\nside, listening greedily to the barber\u2019s utterances.\n\n\u201cGood-evening, sir,\u201d said Tom, starting to his feet. \u201cCold night?\u201d\n\nThe little man only grinned like a monkey in reply.\n\n\u201cShave, or hair cut, sir?\u201d asked the barber, rubbing his lean hands\nwith professional expectancy.\n\n\u201cShave?\u201d echoed the customer in a voice like a croaking raven. \u201cDo I\nlook as if I wanted shaving? No man shall take me by the nose, and I\nknow you can\u2019t shave without doing that.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo offence, sir. Shall I cut your hair?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, Tom Brock. Cut it short, very short.\u201d And the wee fellow chuckled\nheartily as he divested himself of a cloak, in which he had been\nwrapped from head to heel, and seated himself in the chair before the\nmirror. The new-comer, although very small for his age, was quite cool\nand self-possessed. He gave all manner of directions respecting the\nmode in which he required his hair trimmed, made faces at the glass,\nand laughed at the grimaces reflected there.\n\nTom Brock had had many queer customers during the twelve years he had\nbeen in business, but he had never seen such a quaint, small mite of a\nman as this one before him. In fixing the wrapper about his shoulders\nTom could scarcely repress an exclamation of surprise at the colour and\ntexture of his companion\u2019s apparel. Of what material were they\ncomposed\u2014cloth, tweed, silk, cotton? No; mortal warp or weft never\nmanufactured such fabrics. Some other agency\u2014subtle and mysterious as\nmany unexplained things we see around us\u2014had perchance woven these\narticles. For in this lower world there are cloaks much less\nsubstantial than a fairy\u2019s jerkin\u2014cloaks for which Dr. Johnson and his\nfollowers have been unable to find a name, but which are indispensable\nto many of us in our daily lives.\n\nHad the barber been less engaged in taking stock of the manner and\nappearance of his strange customer, he might have discovered at once\nthat to shorten this fellow\u2019s hair was an utter impossibility, for as\nfast as the keen scissors severed the long, yellow locks the particles\nbecame instantly attached again. The barber\u2019s eyes were too intent\nwatching the grimaces in the mirror to observe the startling fact.\n\n\u201cBeen long in the colony, sir?\u201d insinuated he, by way of opening a\nconversation.\n\nThe wee man chuckled mightily, and narrowly escaped having a portion of\nhis ear severed by the barber\u2019s sharp scissors.\n\n\u201cI know the colony, Tom Brock,\u201d he replied. \u201cNo one better. Ha, ha!\u201d\n\nThe hairdresser was staggered, but he came again to the charge.\n\n\u201cBeautiful hair, yours, sir, fine and soft as silk. It doesn\u2019t seem to\nbe much shorter, after all I\u2019ve cut off.\u201d\n\n\u201cCut it short, Tom. Ho, ho, ho!\u201d\n\n\u201cVery dull times, sir,\u201d said Tom, not relishing his customer\u2019s\ndisagreeable laugh.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s very dull indeed for you, Tom Brock,\u201d answered the wee man, with\na knowing leer.\n\n\u201cWhy for me, sir?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause the lease of your shop expires next Monday, Tom, and you\nhaven\u2019t a penny saved to renew it. That\u2019s why,\u201d responded the customer\nquietly.\n\nSome people when they are astonished can be tumbled over with a\nfeather, but it would have taken a blow from a large stick to have\nknocked our hero down. He appeared rooted to the boards, and his eyes\nand mouth opened considerably.\n\n\u201cVery good, sir. You\u2019re a wizard. Perhaps you have no objection to tell\nme what I had for dinner to-day!\u201d ejaculated Tom, when he found the use\nof his tongue.\n\n\u201cNot in the least. You hadn\u2019t anything, my friend. Your mind was not\nupon eating to-day, but rather the consideration of where boots for the\nchildren are to come from\u2014a bonnet for Mrs. B. likewise, the cash for\nyour business, eh? Care has taken away your appetite, Tom. Ha, ha! I\nknow. No one knows better than Thimble. That\u2019s me.\u201d\n\nThe comb and scissors fell from the barber\u2019s hand to the floor.\n\n\u201cWant to know anything else, Tom Brock?\u201d asked the visitor.\n\n\u201cNothing more, thank ye,\u201d replied the barber in a bewildered tone.\n\n\u201cListen to me, then.\u201d And the little fellow faced about in the chair.\n\u201cI am Baron Thimble, of Faydell Twilight. Ours is a vast kingdom in the\ncentre of Australia, of which very little is known by man. The\nAnglo-Saxon has penetrated into every corner of the known globe, and\nthrust his inquisitive nose into the socket of the North Pole, but he\nhas never set foot in the land of Twilight. Now I need your services,\nTom Brock, and if you will promise to go with me, I will reward you\nhandsomely.\u201d\n\n\u201cTwilight,\u201d repeated Brock thoughtfully. \u201cI never heard mention of such\na country before.\u201d\n\n\u201cI trow not,\u201d replied Baron Thimble, smiling. \u201cNevertheless, it is a\ngreat realm, whose people have often visited these cities, reared on\nthe sea border. Thou art poor, and in need, and faith, I repeat, I have\nneed of thee.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow long will you require me?\u201d\n\n\u201cFor just one moon. No more.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the reward?\u201d inquired Tom eagerly.\n\n\u201cTwo hundred golden coins.\u201d\n\n\u201cThank you, I am at your service. Stop! Is Twilight far away, Baron\nThimble?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, but our conveyance will be swift and safe. Thou wilt go?\u201d\n\n\u201cWith the greatest pleasure, sir.\u201d\n\n\u201cEnough! Here are one hundred sovereigns in part payment of my\npromise.\u201d And the Twilight nobleman drew forth a heavy purse and\ncounted the money into the barber\u2019s palm. \u201cGo home at once and bank the\nmoney with thy wife; then meet me afterwards on the right bank of the\nriver Yarra, beyond the Lunatic Asylum. You understand?\u201d\n\nAnd the Baron, chuckling to himself, folded his poncho about his\nperson, and strode out at the doorway.\n\nTom Brock could hardly believe but that the whole affair had been a\njoke. There lay the money, though. That was real enough. And he felt it\nwas no joke to have it in his possession. So he packed up his shaving\nappliances in a bag, closed his shop, and went home to his better half.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nPRINCE PICNIC.\n\nThe inhabitants of Twilight have a more facile means of transition than\nthe sons of men. While we have our steamboats, railways, telegraphs,\nand all other nurslings of science as our slaves, the races of the dim\nregion can command the services of the powerful Air King Fancy. Swifter\nis he than the Wind, and stronger than the fabled Griffin of the\nAncients. He can accommodate any number and all manner of travellers at\na moment\u2019s notice.\n\nBaron Thimble, standing by the Yarra bank, invoked the rapid harbinger\nto his aid, and when Tom Brock the barber joined him there, they were\nfully prepared to start on their voyage.\n\n\u201cHumbug-loo-boo! Tictoleroo! Pish-bosh! Fudge!\u201d cried the son of\nTwilight, and they were off. The electrical current, girdling the\nstorm-tossed waters, where ships are broken and engulfed, could not\noutpace the conveyance of the fairy and the barber. The most elegant\nsaloon could not afford more comfort than those trance-stuffed cushions\nupon which they reclined and gazed out upon the newly brightened\nlandscape.\n\nThen the fairy man spoke and unfolded his mission.\n\n\u201cI am the Baron Thimble. Know, O mortal, that the wise Prince Picnic is\nRuler and Governor of Twilight. The Prince hath a beautiful daughter\nnamed Bi-ba-be-bi, which in the language of the country implies the\nLady Lollypop. Twelve months ago, while the Prince was hunting in the\nLeap Frog Mountains, he was made prisoner by a huge, powerful chief of\nthe Baboon country, named Gorilla, who demanded the Prince\u2019s daughter\nin marriage, as ransom. My master consented to the terms, but begged\nthat Gorilla would not press his suit for the space of one year and a\nday, so that Bi-ba-be-bi might be prepared for the ceremony. The\nmonster agreed. And now, the time specified having elapsed, the horrid\ncreature has crossed the mountains to demand his bride.\u201d\n\nThe voice of Baron Thimble trembled with emotion as he continued:\n\u201cPrince Picnic is full of sorrow, for he cannot think of suffering his\nlovely daughter to mate with such a monster as Gorilla. Bribes have\nbeen offered, gold and silver and gems, besides a large tract of\nterritory known as Shadowsflit, bordering on our country, but the\nmonster will have nothing in lieu of the lady.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy don\u2019t you call out the volunteers, and drive the beast back into\nthe mountains?\u201d inquired the barber.\n\n\u201cAh, there lies the difficulty,\u201d answered Thimble. \u201cThe Governor of\nTwilight has never broken his word to man or monster, and he will not\ngo from it in this instance. The nobles and churchmen have tried to\npersuade him that, under the circumstances, he is not bound to redeem\nhis word with Gorilla; but he will not listen to our advice, and I\u2019m\nafraid the lovely girl, Lady Lollypop, will be sacrificed.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is the Baboon chief like?\u201d asked the barber.\n\n\u201cTall as a giant, and as strong as a dozen giants combined,\u201d replied\nhis companion. \u201cThe Prince quartered him in the summer palace, and the\nrogue has almost torn it down piecemeal. He has eaten up the shrubs and\nflowers, and destroyed every animal within his reach.\u201d\n\n\u201cHas Lady Lollypop seen her affianced husband?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; poor Bi-ba-be-bi remains as yet in blissful ignorance of the fact,\nyet to-morrow the whole matter must be made known to her, except\u2014\u2014\u201d and\nthe Baron paused, and looked fixedly at Tom Brock.\n\n\u201cExcept what?\u201d said the barber.\n\n\u201cExcept you aid us,\u201d rejoined the fairy. \u201cWe held a Council\nyesterday\u2014Gaboon, the Prince\u2019s jester, being President. The Chairman,\nwho understands the manners, customs, and language of Gorilla-land,\nstated that this monster was not in his opinion a real native Gorilla,\ninasmuch as the beings of the Baboon regions had only four toes,\nwhereas the visitor had five; further, in conversing with the intended\nhusband of the fair Bi-ba-be-bi, he had discovered that the creature\nspoke the language of the country with a strong foreign accent\u2014these,\ntogether with other matters he did not wish at that meeting to\nparticularise, induced him (the Chairman) to conclude that the monster\nwas other than what he appeared, and that the only way to test the\ntruth or otherwise of his suggestion, with reference to the unwelcome\nguest, would be to engage a smart barber to shave the Gorilla from head\nto heel. I need scarcely add that the proposition of the President was\nunanimously agreed to. And here you are!\u201d\n\nWee Baron Thimble chuckled and rubbed his hands together until the\njoints cracked again.\n\n\u201cWhy, you surely didn\u2019t engage me to shave a Gorilla?\u201d cried the poor\nbarber in astonishment.\n\n\u201cI certainly did, Tom Brock.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat! All over\u2014body and all?\u201d inquired he, with starting eyeballs.\n\n\u201cBody, head and feet, Tom. Wherever there is a hair you must cut it\noff,\u201d replied Thimble.\n\n\u201cWell, I\u2019ve often heard of a pig being shaved, but never a Gorilla.\nWhat do you want to shave the beast for, eh?\u201d\n\nThe Baron remained thoughtful for a moment ere he replied. \u201cIt will be\na sure test to prove whether this monster is really the chief of the\nBaboon realm or not,\u201d he said. \u201cIf he is not, so much the better for\nLollypop, and if he is the real Simon Pure, his enormous strength will\ndepart with his heavy coat. He will become docile, and we can then\ndress him as becomes the bridegroom of a Princess. That is the opinion\nof Gaboon.\u201d\n\n\u201cBother Gaboon!\u201d cried the barber. \u201cI only wish the President of the\nCouncil had to shave the creature, that\u2019s all.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere are no barbers in Twilight,\u201d answered Thimble; \u201celse I had not\ncome to thee; besides, thou hast received thy reward.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis monster may kill me,\u201d replied Tom.\n\n\u201cTrue. Then again he may not. Come, man, whatever thou may\u2019st value\nthyself at shall be paid to thee when thy task is ended. Great results\nhang upon thy skill and on the keen edge of thy tools. Although shaving\nis unknown here, there is a potent influence about it amongst thy race,\nwhether it may be upon their faces or upon their consciences. Here we\nare at the mansion of Prince Picnic.\u201d\n\nA charming edifice rises to view, nestling its gables and turrets\n\u2019midst clouds of richest foliage, upon whose glistening tops rest every\nshade of green, with brown and russet and yet a colour of amber\nbetween, encircling the wave like hills in the distance. Kingdom of\nTwilight! how I love thee! Not as a stranger do I enter thy gates. I\nhave been here before, long, long ago, when the years were young and\nfull of promise for me; when she was by my side who was too frail, too\ngood for earth. Here we have lingered silently, side by side, while the\nnightingale warbled forth its soft notes in love for the rose, and the\nroses gave forth their fragrance until the air became an essence of\nperfume. Oh, sweet bird of Twilight, thy song yet fills the air, but\nsilent and cold the fond heart that beat in unison with thy sweet\nmusic. Will she listen for thy singing when the twilight gathers its\nshadows o\u2019er her lowly grave on the hillside? Oh, nightingale! oh,\ntwilight memories! Ye preach to my yearning soul more eloquently than\nwords of man. Patience, love, hope, are borne to me upon your voice,\nand fall gently as the breath of mercy and forgiveness upon the\nquickened sense, that sees revealed for one brief moment a glimpse of\nParadise and its forms of unperishable glory.\n\nThe approach of the two travellers was observed by the captain of the\nguard at the palace gates, who immediately sent a message to the\nPrince; whereupon, as soon as they arrived they were ushered into the\npresence of the Ruler of Twilight, who received the Baron and the\nbarber very graciously. Refreshments were ordered to be set before\nthem, and when Tom had satisfied the cravings of hunger, Prince Picnic\nasked him many questions respecting his journey, and desired to inspect\nthe articles in the bag. While Prince Picnic was engaged with the\nrazors and lather box, our hero had time to have a good look at him. He\nappeared much smaller than the Baron, and a trifle older looking, yet\nthe Prince was still what many ladies would term a handsome fellow. His\nwhite pointed beard was very long and strongly scented, yet his eyes\nwere as keen as a hawk, and his step as supple and light as a boy of\nfifteen. If Tom Brock had wondered at the richness and texture of Baron\nThimble\u2019s clothing, he wondered still more at the magnificence of\nPrince Picnic\u2019s dressing-gown, and also at the lavish display of pure\ngold in everything he saw about the room. In fact, the barber had yet\nto learn that the country was one vast gold mine, which in the absence\nof other metals was employed for everything in common use.\n\nIt was time to retire to rest when the Prince broke up the audience.\n\nThe Baron conducted Tom to an elegant sleeping apartment. \u201cThe Gorilla\nhas found his way here,\u201d he said at parting. \u201cThe beast has selected\nthe sward of the lawn in preference to a bed. Remember, your task must\nbe finished before the assembling of the Court to-morrow. Sleep well.\nGood-night.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nLADY LOLLYPOP.\n\nThe barber was honoured with a perfumed bath ere he retired to rest,\nwhich caused him to sleep soundly until daylight began to peep through\nthe windows of his chamber. His slumbers would have been prolonged had\nit not been for a feeling of sudden pain across the bridge of his nose.\nHe awoke hastily, and beheld the form of a very ancient dame standing\nby his bedside. That puppet, known as the spouse of Mr. Punch, was the\nonly creature that our hero could liken her to, as she bent her thin\nprofile over him and held up her skinny hand in token of silence and\nattention. Fixing her keen eyes upon Tom, she chanted, rather than\nspoke, the following incantation:\u2014\n\n\n       \u201cDraw a circle round the beast\n        When he sleeps in peaceful rest;\n        If strong thy arm and keen thy blade\n        So thy task is easy made.\n        Shave the monster, head and toe,\n        Round him fold this robe of snow;\n        Then lead him forth towards the Throne.\n        Fe-fi-fum, my charm is done.\u201d\n\n\nEre the last words were well out of her mouth the old dame vanished\nlike a puff of smoke\u2014when or how Tom Brock had no idea whatever. He\nrubbed his eyes, and was under the impression that the whole thing was\nan illusion, until his glance rested upon a square white wrapper lying\nat the foot of the bed. He sprang up immediately, and found a soft\ncloak large enough to robe a giant. There was no fancy about that, at\nany rate. He dressed himself hastily, at the same time attempting to\nrepeat the utterances of his strange visitor:\u2014\n\n\n      \u201c\u2018Draw a circle round the beast\n        When he sleeps in peaceful rest.\u2019\n\n\nVery good,\u201d he muttered quickly; \u201cthere may be a charm in these words\nthat I cannot conceive. I have a very dangerous task before me, and\nI\u2019ll try it. Luckily this is just the time of day to catch Mr. Gorilla\nasleep. What\u2019s the next line?\u2014\n\n\n      \u201c\u2018If strong thy arm and keen thy blade\n        So thy task is easy made.\u2019\n\n\nHumph! I can answer for the razors. They\u2019re sharp enough to cut the\nthroat of my ugly customer, if he tries any of his tricks. Then:\u2014\n\n\n      \u201c\u2018Shave the monster, head and toe,\n        Round him fold this robe of snow.\u2019\n\n\n\u201cAll right so far. After which I\u2019m to lead him into the reception-hall\nbefore Prince Picnic. Just so. Now to set about it.\u201d\n\nThe barber prepared his razors and lather, and taking the white robe on\nhis arm he went out along the broad corridor towards the garden. Within\na small grass plot encircled by tall trees Tom discovered the Gorilla\nfast asleep. With noiseless footsteps our hero formed a wide ring round\nthe sleeping monster with his fingers, and then stepped within the\ncharmed circle and approached his subject. Strange to relate, the\nGorilla never stirred\u2014not even when Tom, with the taste of a genuine\nartist, began operations upon his capacious chin. Nature seemed hushed\nwhile the barber performed his business. Above, below, and around a\ndeep stillness reigned, save for the scraping, grating sound of Tom\nBrock\u2019s blade.\n\nMeanwhile Prince Picnic held a grand council of state in the\nmagnificent reception-hall of his palace. Previously an edict had gone\nforth which summoned the rank, beauty, and fashion of the land to\nwitness the marriage of Lady Lollypop and Gorilla. And here they were\nassembled for the imposing event, which should unite the Beauty and the\nBeast.\n\nAh, me! Who shall attempt to describe the splendour of that gathering?\nThe Ruler of Twilight was seated on a throne of pure gold, which had\nbeen oxidized to every shade of colour, and wrought in the most\nbeautiful mosaic imaginable. At her father\u2019s side reclined the\nBi-ba-be-bi, receiving the homage of the young nobles and the\nlong-bearded functionaries of state. The walls and ceiling of the\nthrone chamber were entirely covered with wide sheets of burnished gold\nto reflect as mirrors. On each side of the dais there extended rank\nupon rank of high-born dames and courtiers robed in stuffs of silk and\ngold, embroidered with flowers so as to present the most perfect\nimitations of nature.\n\nSoothingly soft, sweetly, lovingly soft, were the dulcet tones of the\nchoir of fairy musicians, hidden from view\u2014now ebbing, now flowing in\ntender gushes of melody. Down the sides of the lofty pillared hall a\nbright band of dancing fays, each as lovely as a child\u2019s dream,\nadvanced and retired, crossed and interlaced in a whirling maze of\nshifting light, which defeated the eye in following their quick and\ngraceful evolutions. Amongst that fair galaxy of beauty, Bi-ba-be-bi\nstood out peerless in her loveliness. Round the soft cushions on which\nshe reclined were gathered her four handmaids, See-Saw, Hide and Seek,\nMarjory Daw, and Down-Dilly.\n\nBehind the throne stood Ride-a-cock-horse, the prime minister, Gaboon,\nthe jester, and the high officials of the kingdom. At a sign from Baron\nThimble the music ceased and the dancers dispersed. Then Prince Picnic\nrose, and said briefly,\u2014\n\n\u201cPeople of Twilight, I have called you together to witness the marriage\nof our daughter, the Lady Lollypop. I am aware that this Court had\ndecided that our dear and lamented nephew Prince Pippin should have\nbeen her husband; but the gallant youth perished three years ago on\nthose self-same Leap Frog Mountains where I and my retinue were\ncaptured by Gorilla. The chief of Gorilla-land is now here to claim the\nbond I gave him for our release.\u201d\n\nA deep hush had fallen o\u2019er the vast crowd as the Prince paused.\n\n\u201cPrince Pippin was a handsome youth and a gallant gentleman,\u201d whispered\nSee-Saw.\n\n\u201cTrue, and our lady loved him well,\u201d replied Down-Dilly.\n\nThe daughter of Prince Picnic heard the whispering, and sighed audibly.\n\n\u201cAy, but the young Prince is dead. Hush!\u201d\n\n\u201cDames and nobles,\u201d continued His Highness mournfully, \u201cwe have given\nour sacred word that this monster shall marry Bi-ba-be-bi. Therefore we\ncannot depart from that pledge in the smallest particular. What, ho\nthere! Let the bridegroom come forth and claim his bride.\u201d\n\nAs the Ruler of Twilight uttered the words, every eye was directed\ntowards the great folding doors at the farther end of the audience\nchamber, which were instantly drawn apart, and Tom Brock entered,\nleading the tall figure of his patient, muffled from head to feet in\nthe white cloak.\n\nPoor Lady Lollypop uttered a stifled shriek of fear as her gaze fell\nupon the muffled form of her intended lord and master.\n\nThe barber advanced with his companion to the foot of the throne, and\nthere halted for a moment, then retired behind the throng of courtiers,\nleaving the closely covered monster standing alone.\n\n\u201cArt thou still resolved to have the Pearl of Twilight for thy wife?\u201d\nasked Ride-a-cock-horse in a loud voice.\n\nThe mantled figure trembled visibly, but held his peace.\n\n\u201cLet the chief of Gorilla-land show himself, if he is not afraid,\u201d\ncried Gaboon, advancing from out of the ring of nobles by which he was\nsurrounded. Swifter than the electrical fire athwart a thunder-cloud\nthe folding mantle vanished from that form, and revealed\u2014not the\nhateful beast, but a tall, handsome young man, robed in a superb\nhunting costume of the country. The gaze of Bi-ba-be-bi had no sooner\nrested upon him than she sprang from the midst of her ladies with a\nglad cry of recognition, and cast herself upon his bosom. \u201cPrince\nPippin! Cousin! My own dear love, you are not dead!\u201d\n\nDead, not at all. Twilight is a region of enchantment, dear readers.\nDame Trot, the witch of the Leap Frog Ranges, had fallen across the\nyoung Prince while hunting in the mountains, and had changed him into a\nGorilla. Such he had remained and had taken his uncle prisoner. When\nthe news, however, of the marriage between Lady Lollypop and the\nsupposed monster reached the old magician she relented of her\nwickedness by appearing at the bedside of the barber and speaking the\nwords which annulled the charm.\n\nThere was great rejoicing at the court of Prince Picnic over the event;\nbut the gladness and the display were increased a hundredfold when the\ncousins were married.\n\nTom Brock, loaded with substantial presents, returned home to his wife\nand family, and brought a piece of the wedding-cake for the former,\nwhich quite dissipated any lurking jealousy there might have been in\nher mind respecting his absence.\n\nThe little corner shop knows our friend the barber no more. His\nresidence is now in the aristocratic suburb of Toorak\u2014a magnificent\nmansion known as \u201cFaydell,\u201d and for which he may thank Bi-ba-be-bi and\nher royal husband Prince Pippin.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTIM.\n\n\nThe sinking sun cast a soft amber-tinted radiance over the little\ntownship of Wentworth, New South Wales, as a little boy, weary and\nfootsore with travel, knocked at a farmer\u2019s door about two miles beyond\nthe settlement.\n\nA kind, motherly woman who answered the knock stared with astonishment\nat the juvenile tramp, who blurted out in a faint voice, \u201cIf you\nplease, ma\u2019am, will you give me a drink of water? I\u2019m so hungry, I\nreally don\u2019t know where I shall sleep to-night.\u201d\n\nThe good lady laughed heartily at the little fellow\u2019s quaint request.\nShe took him into the house, and led him into a back room, where a\ngreat fat man was seated at tea.\n\n\u201cWho is this, wife?\u201d said he in a surly tone, looking at our hero.\n\n\u201cOnly a poor boy begging some food, Mark; that\u2019s all,\u201d answered his\nwife meekly.\n\n\u201cI didn\u2019t beg, ma\u2019am, please,\u201d said the boy quickly.\n\n\u201cOh, you didn\u2019t beg?\u201d rejoined the farmer in the same gruff voice. \u201cGit\ndown on that stool now.\u201d\n\n\u201cI came a very long way, sir, and I\u2014\u2014\u201d began the boy.\n\n\u201cSilence! Wife, take his bundle; pull off his old shoes; let him be\nwashed; then give him his tea.\u201d The voice lost nothing of its coarse\ndisagreeable ring as it gave the curt order, but the man\u2019s eyes looked\nkindly at the little wanderer. \u201cWhat is your name?\u201d still gruffly.\n\n\u201cTim, sir, please.\u201d\n\n\u201cTim what? Hav\u2019n\u2019t you another name?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sir. Nuggety Joe never called me anything else than Tim.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who is Nuggety Joe?\u201d asked the farmer.\n\nThe boy played nervously with the edge of his tattered jacket for a\nmoment, and then replied in a voice broken and unsteady with emotion,\n\u201cPlease, sir, father and Joe were mates on the diggings at Forbes. When\nthe great dam broke and flooded the creek, and drowned father, mother,\nand little sister Jessie, Joe took care of me, and was a father to\nme\u2014he was\u2014until he took the fever, and died, and then I\u2014\u2014\u201d The child\u2019s\nquavering voice gave way to a fit of bitter wailing.\n\n\u201cStop that!\u201d cried the farmer, putting his handkerchief to his nose,\nand making that organ sound like a French horn\u2014\u201cstop it at once. I\u2019ll\nhave no snivelling here.\u201d\n\nBut poor Tim sobbed on; and notwithstanding all the womanly sympathy of\nthe farmer\u2019s wife, she could not stay the torrent. Not yet in his\n\u201cteens,\u201d the brave lad walked over two hundred miles, suffering hunger\nand pain with the courage of a Spartan; but he had no courage to put\nback the tears that swelled upwards at the remembrance of that rude,\nunlettered, dead digger, who had loved him, and had taken him to his\nbosom for Christ\u2019s sake, and who had now gone to receive his reward.\n\nAll things have an end, so the fountain of Tim\u2019s eyes became dry again\nere the tea was over. Before the lad was sent to bed, the farmer said,\n\u201cLook here, boy, I think I can give you something to do on my farm.\nMind, I\u2019ll set you a task the first thing in the morning; if you\nperform it to my satisfaction, and you likewise prove yourself an\nhonest, trustworthy youngster, why, you shall never want a home or a\nfriend while Mark Wilson lives. Now, wife, put him to bed.\u201d\n\nThe good dame led Tim to a small attic bedroom, which contained,\namongst other things, a beautiful parrot in a stout wire cage.\n\n\u201cCockie\u201d had evidently been enjoying a nap, for he shook himself at\nsight of the intruders, and sent forth from his bill a volley of\nstrange sounds, in true imitation of a person just aroused from\nslumber. Mrs. Wilson kissed our hero and retired, but she had hardly\nclosed the door before the bird began to flap his wings and crow like a\nrooster.\n\n\u201cA funny parrot,\u201d muttered Tim. \u201cI wonder if it can talk?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course it can,\u201d answered Cockie, eyeing him through the bars of the\ncage. The lad rubbed his eyes, and stared at the bird in the cage for\nfully three minutes without speaking a word, so great was his\nconsternation. \u201cDon\u2019t stare, Tim; it\u2019s very rude to stare,\u201d continued\nthe bird gravely. \u201cPeople in this colony have a bad habit of staring\nyou out of countenance, I am sorry to say.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, you can talk like a man,\u201d cried the boy in his astonishment.\n\n\u201cCertainly; much better than some men, I trust. Pray come here and\nscratch me, Tim,\u201d cried the parrot coaxingly.\n\nLittle Tim obeyed very cautiously, and in fear and trembling.\n\n\u201cThat is delightful,\u201d said Cockie.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s wonderful,\u201d muttered poor Tim.\n\n\u201cWhat is wonderful, sir? Can\u2019t parrots talk?\u201d\n\n\u201cSome of them can, but not like you.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! but I\u2019m not a parrot, I\u2019m a fairy.\u201d\n\n\u201cA fairy?\u201d cried the boy, agape with wonder. \u201cAre you really?\u201d\n\n\u201cTruly I am. One of the Lake George fairies. Xanthine, our Queen,\nturned me into a parrot, five years ago, through her foolish jealousy,\nand here I\u2019ve been caged up ever since with this great beak upon my\nface, which quite disfigures me.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat a shame! Can\u2019t you get back again to your friend at Lake George?\u201d\ncried the boy.\n\n\u201cYes, for Queen Xanthine is dead, and I can now return in safety, if\nyou will help me,\u201d replied the bird.\n\n\u201cMe! how can I help you?\u201d answered little Tim.\n\n\u201cI will tell you\u201d rejoined the elfin. \u201cYou must know, boy, that every\none of us could help each other if we would. The rich can help the\npoor, and the poor the wealthy; yea, even the smallest can render\nassistance to the strong and powerful, as was the case with the lion\nand the mouse. Now, I can prove how I can render you a service. Judge.\nDidn\u2019t the master say he would set you a task in the morning?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe did,\u201d replied Tim in wonder.\n\n\u201cVery well. The task is to milk a bad-tempered, touchy old cow called\n\u2018Peggy.\u2019 The beast, who is a splendid milker, is the torment and plague\nof the farmer\u2019s life. She has kicked him until he is afraid to approach\nher, and every one, man, woman, and boy, who attempts to milk Peggy is\nsure to be upset. It has proved useless to tie her by the leg and the\ntail\u2014the wicked rogue would find a way of defeating her enemies before\nthe milking was ended.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you sure that I shall have to try to milk Peggy in the morning?\u201d\ninquired Tim.\n\n\u201cQuite certain,\u201d replied the elfin.\n\n\u201cThen I\u2014I think I had better go away now, at once, before the morning,\ndon\u2019t you?\u201d said the lad ruefully.\n\n\u201cNo, I don\u2019t, because I can tell you how to overcome the antics of this\nrefractory cow.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will tell you upon one condition,\u201d replied the fairy parrot, rubbing\nits beak reflectively.\n\n\u201cWhat condition?\u201d asked Tim.\n\n\u201cThat you set me free as soon as you have completed your task\nto-morrow.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s a bargain,\u201d replied little Tim readily. \u201cI can easily get the\nfarmer another parrot\u2014a real bird, you know\u2014and then there will be no\nharm done.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery good. Now listen. On the gable of this house there grows a\ncreeper with a pale blue flower. In the morning, when they call you, go\nand gather a small wreath of this plant, and when the wicked cow is\nbailed up ready for milking, place the vine around her horns, and you\nmay take the word of an Australian fairy that Peggy will stand as quiet\nas a mouse until you have drained her teats as dry as a corn cob.\u201d\n\n\u201cLor! how simple!\u201d replied Tim.\n\n\u201cAll knowledge is simple, boy, when you once acquire it. You\u2019ll not\nforget my instructions?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I thank you. I shall remember.\u201d\n\n\u201cKiss Cockie, then, say your prayers like a good boy, and go to bed.\nGood-night.\u201d\n\nTim wished to ask the fairy bird a hundred questions, but after it had\nsaid good-night it would not utter another word, so the boy went to bed\nand fell asleep.\n\nThe sun was up before him in the morning. Yet Tim managed to get down\ninto the garden and cut a slender tendril from the creeper, which he\nformed into a small hoop, just as the farmer\u2019s voice was heard calling\nhim.\n\nTwenty cows had to be milked every morning at the farm, and Tim heard a\ngreat deal of shouting and bellowing, and clanking of milk-cans, which\nproceeded from a yard at hand, enclosed with a high fence and into\nwhich the cattle had been driven.\n\nThe farmer led our hero into the enclosure, and pointing to where the\nill-tempered short-horn stood, with her head in the bail, said briefly,\n\u201cSit down and milk that cow.\u201d\n\nThe boy went up to Peggy, who gave a loud bellow at sight of him. He\nplaced the vine around her horns, then sat down to his task. Mark\nWilson stood ready to pick the boy up in case the cow knocked him over;\nbut the beast never moved until the boy had drawn every drop of milk\nfrom her teats. The good farmer was filled with amazement, and cried\nout, \u201cTwenty-five boys and ten men have all tried to milk Peggy, and\nnot one of them has succeeded but you. Therefore, from this moment, I\nwill adopt you as my son, Tim, and you shall marry my little girl Amy,\nby-and-by, and I will leave you the farm as a wedding present.\u201d And the\nfarmer kept his word.\n\nWhen Tim went upstairs to set the parrot free, he found the bird\ntransformed into a beautiful wee lady, whom he politely lifted out of\nthe cage. She thanked him, and made him a graceful curtsey as she\nvanished out of the window.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHREE SPARROWS.\n\n\nToby Grumbleton worked with his uncle down in one of the deepest mines\nin Ballarat. If you had searched the whole district in that gold\nhunting region, you couldn\u2019t have found a more selfish, lazy, and\ndisobedient boy than Toby. In consequence of his surly and complaining\ndisposition his companions had bestowed upon him the nickname of \u201cToby\nthe Growler,\u201d and he well deserved the title; for a greater snivelling,\ndiscontented youth never existed.\n\nOne day, while at work in the mine, Toby was ordered to gather together\nall the blunt tools and send them up to the surface to be sharpened. As\nusual, Toby began to grumble, whereupon his uncle gave him a good\nthrashing, and the \u201cGrowler\u201d ran off into one of the usual drives or\npassages of the mine to indulge in a sulking fit. Of the many dark and\nwide caverns underground, none in the whole pit was so large and so\ngloomy and dismal as the one in which \u201cToby the Growler\u201d had taken\nrefuge, yet the boy had not been there long before he became aware of a\nstrange yellow-coloured glow lighting up the drive. Looking up, he\nbeheld a little old dwarf, with a lamp in his hand, standing over him.\nSuch a plain, ugly-looking creature Toby had never seen before, though\nthere are any number of queer-looking fellows at Ballarat. The intruder\nwas small, not nearly so tall as Toby, but his head was a rasper, and\nappeared as if it had belonged to several ancient individuals in\nsuccession, the eyes very red, and omitting a fiery glow. He was\nattired in a suit of brown russet, with a long sugar-loaf hat, and a\ncrutch staff.\n\n\u201cGet up, Toby the Growler, and follow me,\u201d cried the dwarf in a brief\ntone, and looking at him with those horrid eyes. Toby felt inclined to\ndisobey, but his heart sank within him at sight of the creature, and he\ntherefore followed, grumbling as he went, and wondering where the ugly\nlittle humpback would lead him. Of one thing the boy was certain\u2014that\nthe end of the subterranean passage would effectually bar the progress\nof the unwelcome visitor; but the dim cave seemed to extend and open\nout before them as they proceeded, until it took the shape of a long\nrailway tunnel, from which they at length emerged into the bright open\nsunlight, beaming down upon a landscape fairer than a child\u2019s dream.\nThe sudden transit from what appeared to be the bowels of a great high\nmountain to the noonday light almost blinded our friend Toby; but the\ndwarf touched him with his staff, and lo! the boy beheld a charming\ncountry teeming with life and beauty. Here were soft grassy spots,\nshaded by trees bending with ripe and golden-hued fruit; yonder a range\nof hills clothed with richest verdure, and at the feet of which a broad\nlake gleamed like a burnished shield. There were swans on the lake, and\nbirds of bright plumage on the trees and in the air, and birds\neverywhere around.\n\n\u201cWhat place is this, sir?\u201d cried Toby in amazement.\n\n\u201cThis is the land of the three sparrows,\u201d answered the dwarf with a\nsmile. \u201cLook there; that little white building is the home of \u2018Test,\u2019\nthe eldest of the three; yonder by the water is the palace of \u2018Try,\u2019\nwhile on the hills over there you can see the castle of \u2018Cure,\u2019 the\nyoungest.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre they real sparrows, sir?\u201d asked Toby.\n\n\u201cNo, boy, only in form. They are Australian elves. Every twenty years\nthe great body of elfins in this country transform three of their\nnumber into the shape of sparrows, to govern this land, and also for\nother purposes, of which you may judge for yourself.\u201d Saying which, the\ndwarf caught the Growler in his arms, and in an instant they were\nstanding by the white palace on the lake. All the windows and doors\nwere wide open, so the dwarf entered with his companion and conducted\nhim to a large room where Test sat perched on the back of an armchair.\nHe seemed a well-feathered, plump old bird and wore spectacles.\n\n\u201cAh, Grip, my trusty messenger,\u201d he cried, \u201cI see you have returned\nwith the Growler; take him hence and test him in the usual way.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well, your Excellency,\u201d and the dwarf bent low in obeisance and\nretired. He led Toby away into a large empty hall, and standing him up\nbeside the door, said, \u201cToby, Toby, shut your eyes and see what Fate\nwill send you.\u201d The Growler closed his eyes, when the voice of the\ndwarf was again heard. \u201cToby, Toby, open your eyes and see what Fate\nhas sent you.\u201d\n\nThe boy opened his eyes and beheld the most magnificent apartment it is\npossible to conceive. Tables with marble tops, inlaid with gold, were\nloaded with choice fruits and lollies, and by some enchantment the\nboy\u2019s ragged clothes were changed to a gorgeous suit of crimson velvet,\nbordered with pearls, and several servants stood at hand ready to do\nhis bidding.\n\n\u201cAh, this is as it should be!\u201d cried the delighted Toby. \u201cI shall never\ngrumble again if I am to live like this. Here are guns to shoot with;\ndogs to hunt with; horses to ride, and plenty of fishing in the lake.\nAh! I shall be thoroughly satisfied now.\u201d And the Growler set about\nenjoying himself.\n\nBut alas! for human resolves. The fruit made Toby ill; one of the\nhorses threw him and hurt his leg; he nearly shot himself with his gun;\nand was all but drowned in the lake while fishing; and so he began to\ncomplain worse than before. But the moment he did so, the splendid\nscene vanished from before him in the twinkling of an eye, and he\ndiscovered himself in the bare and empty room again, with only his\ndirty rags, and the dwarf standing grinning beside him.\n\n\u201cCome along with me, Toby the Growler,\u201d cried the old fellow in a\nmocking tone; and before the boy could refuse he was borne away to the\npalace of Try. This old and venerable sparrow was deep in the pages of\nthe Observer when Grip entered with Toby.\n\n\u201cWhom have we here?\u201d he inquired, addressing the dwarf.\n\n\u201cPlease, your Worship, this is a mortal who has been tested by your\nWorship\u2019s brother, and has failed,\u201d answered Grip.\n\n\u201cWhat is his special defect?\u201d\n\n\u201cGrumbling, your Worship.\u201d\n\n\u201cHumph! a common quality among mortals, more especially with farmers\nand boys. Try him without delay.\u201d\n\nWith the quickness of a shifting scene in a magic-lantern Toby was\ntransferred to a cottage in a lonely valley, occupied by an old lady\nand gentleman, who welcomed him as if he had been their own son, and\nprocured for him all that he could desire. The whole day was one round\nof pleasure and enjoyment, and the boy expressed himself grateful and\nsatisfied with his position. One simple act he had to perform in return\nfor all this kindness, and that was to draw seven buckets of water from\na well every morning, for the use of the cottage. Yet Toby the Growler,\nunmindful of past experience, began to grumble again, and once more he\nfound himself by the lake with the dwarf at his elbow.\n\n\u201cFor the last time, come with me, Toby the Growler,\u201d he cried in a\nterrible voice, while his red flaming eyes shot out flashes like fire.\nThe boy felt utterly powerless to resist, and swift as a streak of\nlightning he was carried to the gloomy abode of Cure, the youngest of\nthe three sparrows. The castle was as dark as a dungeon, but the guide\nfound his way within to the reception-hall, where Cure, in regal\nfeathers, sat surrounded by a guard of crows bearing torches.\n\n\u201cWho is this?\u201d inquired the youngest sparrow sternly.\n\n\u201cA grumbling boy, your Highness.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet him be cured. Take him away.\u201d\n\nThe words were scarcely spoken ere poor Toby found himself instantly\ntransformed into a donkey with long ears. He was on a hard, hilly road,\ndragging a heavy dray after him loaded with firewood. At first the lad\nfelt somewhat doubtful respecting the sudden transformation, but a\nsmart thump across his buttock soon convinced him he was no longer an\nidle boy, but a beast of burden, with a cruel youth for his master, who\nbeat and bruised him unmercifully with a thick stick. Oh! the long and\nweary hours he had to toil, while the miserable food he had to eat made\nhim weep, and wet the winkers with his tears. He thought of his uncle\nand his home, and all the many kindnesses he had received, and had\nrepaid with complaints and grumblings, and he vowed earnestly, and with\ntrue penitence, that if ever he got back again to the mine and to his\nkind relative, he would avoid complaining for the rest of his life.\n\nWith this firm resolve came another sudden shifting in the magic scene.\nSo sudden was it that Toby rubbed his eyes, and found himself in that\nself-same narrow drive in the mine at Ballarat, with his uncle shaking\nhim by the collar, and telling him that it was time to go to the\nsurface.\n\nToby is a man now, and is married and has several children; and if one\nof these begins to grumble, he does not forget to remind them of the\nThree Sparrows.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nKING DUNCE.\n\n\nOnly a careless, stupid boy perched on a high stool within the\nschoolroom, trying to learn his lesson, long after his companions had\nbeen dismissed to their several homes. Only the biggest dunce at\nSlate-em\u2019s Academy, who wouldn\u2019t try, like other boys, to master his\ntasks\u2014not because he hadn\u2019t the ability to do so, but because he wanted\nto be a King. Yes, dear readers, Noel Biffin, son of Jack Biffin, the\ntin-smith, wanted to be a King. Nothing less would satisfy him. No, not\neven the rank of Duke or Prince; so, instead of minding his lessons,\nyoung Biffin drew Kings on his slate and in his copy-book, and was\ntherefore compelled to ride the wooden horse after school hours.\n\nIt was a very beautiful evening, with a grand sunset glow flooding\nSlate-em\u2019s Academy, and wrapping the Dunce round and round as with an\namber-coloured mantle, orange tinted. The old usher, nodding in his\nchair, was quite unconscious of the halo which played round and about\nhis bald, venerable head, and made him appear for one brief moment like\none of the Apostles. The good, patient old man was tired with the heat,\nand weary with the incessant chatter of the boys, and so he dozed in\ncomfort, and saw not the wee, shapely creature who entered at the\nwindow and approached the boy as he stood upon the stool and bent the\nknee before him. Although small, the stranger was very handsome, and\ndecked from head to heel in bright, glittering armour, with a crimson\nplume adorning his helmet.\n\n\u201cMay it please your gracious Majesty,\u201d he said, doffing his helmet, \u201cmy\nname is Popgun\u2014Sir Guy Fawkes Popgun, Knight\u2014one of your Majesty\u2019s\nsubjects from the realm of Shadowland.\u201d The Dunce nearly fell from the\nstool in amazement at the strange words. He looked towards the still\nsleeping master, and from him to the armour-clad Knight at his feet,\nand replied in a low tone, \u201cHush! Don\u2019t speak so loud. I haven\u2019t learnt\nmy lesson yet; if he wakens he\u2019ll thrash me. Now, what do you want?\u201d\n\n\u201cPardon, your liege,\u201d rejoined the Knight respectfully, \u201cI am sent as\nambassador from the good people of Shadowland to inform your Majesty\nthat you have been unanimously elected monarch of our wide and spacious\ndominions, and I beg that it may please you to allow me to conduct you\nthither without delay.\u201d\n\n\u201cA King! Am I really a King after all?\u201d cried Biffin, jumping from the\nstool.\n\n\u201cEvery inch a King, your Majesty,\u201d replied Sir Guy Fawkes Popgun,\nreplacing his headpiece. \u201cWill your liege follow me?\u201d\n\n\u201cStop, where is Shadowland?\u201d inquired the boy.\n\n\u201cOn the borders of Fancy, where dwell my kindred, the Australian elves.\nFairyland will have none but a mortal to reign over her. Come, your\nMajesty.\u201d And with a dignified bearing the Elfin Knight strode past the\nslumbering usher, and led the newly-elected Majesty of Elfland out at\nthe door, which opened at their approach. Beyond the school, out on the\nopen play-ground, stood two fine-looking emus, splendidly caparisoned,\nand ready for a journey; and before young Biffin knew what he was about\nhe and his companion were mounted thereon, and were speeding away\nacross the country as swift as the wind. Small townships, hills and\nvalleys, tracts of gloomy forests, and broad lakes appeared before\nthem, and disappeared behind them again, before the boy could say \u201cJack\nRobinson.\u201d Indeed, poor Biffin hadn\u2019t breath to say anything, they\nproceeded so swiftly. At length they came to a large sandy desert on\nthe confines of which rose a chain of lofty mountains. After crossing\nthe desert these mountains looked so steep and high that further\nprogress appeared at an end, but the Knight went to a cave close by and\nbrought forth a pair of flying horses, which flew upward with them in a\nmoment and landed them far away on the other side in safety\u2014and this\nwas Shadowland of the Elfins. What poet\u2019s brain, teeming with strange\nwild fancies, could give expression to such a scene of loveliness as\nNoel the Dunce saw here? What travel-stained worshipper of Nature,\ntraversing the girdle of the globe, ever feasted his eyes on a more\nglorious prospect? Not at Rome, filled as it is with monuments of man;\nnor at Athens, where Paul found the tablet inscribed, \u201cTo the Unknown\nGod\u201d; or on that Ionian Isle, where the inspired John wrote \u201cThe\nRevelation.\u201d Beautiful and sacred are all three to view, but I have\nfeasted my soul on scenes equally grand and sublime in this new land\nwhere the Universal Spirit of \u201cOur Father\u201d seemed to rest, and attract\nthe uplifted eyes and the inmost thoughts of the Soul to the Invisible\nPresence.\n\nThe flying steeds alighted in a ravine shut in by walls of fantastic\nrocks, peaked and turreted like the gable of some old feudal castle.\nHere a mounted escort, composed of the potent and mighty of the empire,\nawaited their coming, and led the King upwards to a grassy platform,\nshaded by a patch of hoary trees, where a throne built of wild-flowers\nhad been erected for his reception. The site commanded a fine view of\nthe surrounding country, and the elected monarch beheld with\nsatisfaction thousands and thousands of his subjects assembled on the\nplains below to do him homage, and whose cheers and shouts rang far and\nwide when he ascended the throne to read the proclamation.\n\nFrom time to time, for generations past, the Elfin Kings had to read\ntheir own proclamations, but when young Biffin received the paper from\nthe hands of the Prime Minister his heart sank within him. His progress\nat school had been so slow that he was unable to read print fluently.\nHow, then, was he to master the contents of the closely-written\nparchment in his hand? At that moment he would have given all his toys\nat home, even to his crop-eared pony, to have been able to read\nwriting; but he couldn\u2019t read or spell, nor make anything better than a\npot-hook.\n\n\u201cMay it please your Majesty to read the proclamation to the people?\u201d\nwhispered Sir Guy Fawkes Popgun in the King\u2019s ear.\n\n\u201cI\u2014I cannot read,\u201d replied his Majesty, trembling with shame and\nvexation.\n\n\u201cCannot read!\u201d repeated the courtiers, looking at each other. \u201cSurely\nyour Majesty is jesting.\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed, gentlemen, I\u2019m afraid I\u2019m a dunce,\u201d replied Biffin sheepishly.\n\n\u201cA dunce, who cannot read, and yet has the silly presumption to be a\nKing!\u201d shouted the fairy populace in a mocking tone. \u201cHurrah for King\nDunce! Long live King Dunce!\u201d\n\nAnd such is the uncertainty of popular favour in Elfland, that the vast\nassembly, who but a moment before had exhibited such hearty tokens of\ngood-will, began to hoot and clamour in derision. They pulled the\nmonarch from his throne, stripped him of his robes of state, and\ncarried him to a rocky peak, where they doffed his crown and replaced\nit with a wreath of straw; while their shouts\u2014\u201cLong live King Dunce!\nHurrah for King Dunce!\u201d\u2014once more rent the air.\n\nIn all his troubles at home, and his canings and disappointments with\nhis lessons at school, our hero never felt so humbled and crestfallen\nin his life before. He would have given anything to be enabled to read\nand write well. And this wish would have been easily gratified, had he\nbut paid a little attention to his books while at the Academy; but he\nhadn\u2019t done so, and the result was his downfall from the proud position\nhe had so long coveted.\n\nWhat availed his regrets now, when he was led away a prisoner, and\nplaced in a dark cave, guarded by seven monsters, whose bodies were\ncovered with long feathers, and who had heads like monkeys? It availed\nnothing that they set him hard lessons day and night, beat him with\nrods, until he was bruised all over, and suffered such pain that he\nmade his escape from the cave. But the monsters were after him across\nthe country, over hill and dale, until he came to the top of the high\nmountain which overlooked the desert, and the monsters being close\nbehind, there was nothing left for him in his last extremity but to\nleap for his life and liberty.\n\nAnd Noel Biffin did leap; but instead of being dashed to pieces, the\nDunce came down from his perch on the stool to the floor of the\nschoolroom, the noise of which roused the usher from his nap, who gave\nthe stupid boy a dose of cane pie and sent him home.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\u201cI DON\u2019T KNOW.\u201d\n\n\nOur little hero lived in a very pretty cottage on the hills. He was\nfond of reading, and his parents, who could well afford it, indulged\nthe boy to his heart\u2019s content with interesting books.\n\nBy his schoolmates this lad was known by the nickname of \u201cCareless\nHarry,\u201d because he was so untidy and negligent in his habits. Out of\nall the expensive books that had been purchased for him there wasn\u2019t\none that had a decent cover. Indeed, some of them had their backs\ncompletely broken with ill-usage, while others hadn\u2019t a back at all.\nBesides being careless and forgetful the boy had still another fault.\nIf his mother asked him a question, the answer was sure to be, \u201cI don\u2019t\nknow.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere\u2019s your hat, Harry?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat have you done with your ball?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d\n\n\u201cChild, however did you tear your clothing in that frightful manner?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am sure I don\u2019t know.\u201d\n\nHis room was littered with his books, toys, and playthings. There stood\nthe rocking-horse with his tail pulled out. Here, flat on its back, lay\nhis sister\u2019s big doll, its poor face dreadfully disfigured by Harry\u2019s\nmischievous fingers. His mother was very much displeased with him, and\nhad sent him to bed, promising to take severe measures with him if she\never heard \u201cI don\u2019t know\u201d from his lips again.\n\nHarry was very frightened. He did not wish to vex his mother, or to act\nunkindly towards his sister, and so, resolving to be more careful in\nthe future, he covered his head over with the bedclothes and fell fast\nasleep.\n\nBut Harry\u2019s carelessness had raised the ire of others besides his\nmother and sister, and they were determined to punish him.\n\nIt is all very well to treat books, dolls, drums, rocking-horses, and\nother playthings as if they had no life in them, but careless boys may\ndo that once too often. So it appeared in this case. Harry was no\nsooner asleep than these ill-fated creatures held a great discussion\nwith reference to his cruelty.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll not stand this any longer,\u201d cried Robinson Crusoe, stepping from\nthe boy\u2019s bookshelf. \u201cI\u2019m getting an old man, and I won\u2019t be insulted\nby having my only covering torn from my back by this young rogue. There\nhe is covered up quite snug, while I am standing here shivering in my\nshirt.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I,\u201d responded little Red Riding Hood, \u201cwould gladly see him\npunished. He has thrown so much soapy water over me I feel as if I\u2019d\nbeen shipwrecked in the washing-tub.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I,\u201d echoed the Drum, \u201cowe him a grudge, not so much for the hard\nthumps he has bestowed on my person, as for his disgraceful treatment\nof yonder fair lady, whose dear nose he has completely put out of\njoint. That lady doll is my relation. We were born in the same place,\nwere sent out in the same ship to Australia, and have occupied the same\nshop, until purchased and brought here to be cuffed and ill-treated by\nthis boy. Gentlemen, I mean to avenge the lady.\u201d\n\nNow the ice was broken, accusations came so fast and thick against the\nunlucky culprit that it was quite impossible to make them all out.\nFishing rods, minus line or hook, bats without handles, balls and tops,\nwhich danced like mad around the bed\u2014the hubbub became so great the\nwonder is the whole house was not roused by his accusers.\n\nThe noise, however, woke Harry, who sat bolt upright in bed, and gazed\nwith a bewildered stare at the queer crowd surrounding him. He was too\nmuch alarmed to speak, but one glance showed him Robinson Crusoe, clad\nin nothing but his fly-leaves, standing at his bedside, with many\nothers, who in the dim light he could not recognise.\n\n\u201cPlace him on my back, friends, and I\u2019ll gallop away to\u2014\u2018I don\u2019t\nknow,\u2019\u201d cried out the tailless Rocking-horse in a terrible voice; and\nthe words were no sooner uttered than poor Harry was quickly\nblindfolded, dragged from his bed, and placed astride the horse, who\ninstantly galloped out into the cold night with him.\n\nThe pace at which the steed travelled was a caution. Harry had once\naccompanied his father to Gawler by rail, but the speed of the train\nwas like travelling on a bullock dray in comparison to the flying pace\nof that beast without a tail. How he held on to its back is a positive\nwonder. All he saw was the clear starlit sky above his head, rocking\nand rolling about like the waves at the Semaphore on a windy day. His\npoor feet ached with the cold, for his only covering was his\nnight-gown, and his legs felt as though they didn\u2019t belong to him. At\nlength, just as he was beginning to feel faint and giddy from\nexhaustion, the Rocking-horse stopped, and the bandage was removed from\nhis eyes. Ah! what a sight he beheld. There was the Drum he had broken\nstrutting about on legs like a human being, who came up to Harry with a\nhaughty swagger, and said, \u201cBoy, why did you break my head?\u201d\n\nAnd then a Hoop came, and demanded, \u201cwhy he was thrown aside in the\nlumber-room?\u201d and a black Jack-in-the-box, whose scanty locks had been\nwantonly torn from his scalp, came and reviled him; and, lastly, his\nlate victim, the poor doll, made its appearance in a winding sheet, and\nbegan to reproach him for his cruelty.\n\nThe unfortunate boy seated himself on the ground and burst into tears,\nbut the more he wept the more his tormentors jeered at him; and really\nthe Drum and Robinson Crusoe seemed to incite the others to insult him;\ntherefore was our poor Harry very miserable indeed. Growing tired of\nplaying with him, or afraid of the cold wind, perhaps, his strange\ncompanions at last took their departure, and Harry was left alone.\n\nSuch companionship had been bad enough, but solitude was worse. He\nstarted up, and shouted with all his might, \u201cIs there anybody about?\u201d\n\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d sighed the wind. \u201cWhich is the way home?\u201d shouted\nHarry. \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d chuckled the laughing jackass. \u201cWhere\u2019s my\nmother?\u201d screamed the boy. \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d exclaimed a \u2019possum and a\nkangaroo together. Too frightened to speak any more, Harry groped his\nway along in the darkness. As day dawned he came to a very high hill,\nand here he saw his tormentors having some rare fun. The Doll had\nmounted the Rocking-horse, which was galloping round and round as they\ndo in a circus. While the Drum beat time, old Robinson Crusoe was\nwaltzing with the Lady of the Lake; and Jack the Giant-killer played\nleap-frog with Mother Hubbard, Red Riding Hood and Little Jack Horner.\nTheir merriment grew more fast and furious every moment, but the\ninstant they espied our hero it ceased, and a deep silence fell upon\nthem all.\n\n\u201cLadies and gentlemen,\u201d cried a Pop-gun, breaking the silence, \u201cyou are\naware we have refrained from doing injury to this cruel boy, through\nthe mediation of the \u2018Old Woman who lived in a Shoe.\u2019 We left him in\npeace to make his way home, and instead of doing so he has wantonly\nbroken in upon our secret revelry, and so has forfeited all claim to\nour clemency. What shall we do with him?\u201d\n\n\u201cPitch him headlong from the cliff,\u201d replied the Drum in a deep voice.\n\n\u201cIt shall be done,\u201d responded a chorus of voices.\n\nPoor Harry, who had not spoken hitherto, now found his voice. \u201cNo, no!\nSpare me, good gentlemen; spare me!\u201d he cried.\n\nThey only mocked him for his pains. \u201cHearken to him pleading for mercy!\nCareless Harry! cruel Harry!\u201d and amidst much noise and confusion the\nyoung mortal was carried to the apex of the steep, tall cliff, and\npushed over into the yawning gulf below.\n\nPoor Harry, half mad with terror, uttered a series of piercing shrieks\nas he felt himself falling\u2014falling through the air\u2014and called aloud for\nhis mother to help him. Conceive his joy when he found himself in her\narms, and heard her well-known voice reassuring him.\n\n\u201cYou are safe, my boy, quite safe. What has frightened you?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, mother! I have been taken away in the night.\u201d\n\n\u201cTaken away! Where?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo\u2014to\u2014\u2018I don\u2019t know.\u2019\u201d\n\nThe mother smiled to herself as she left the room, and \u201cCareless Harry\u201d\nwent out to see if the rocking-horse and the others had returned home.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE BANK CAT.\n\n\nBecause \u201cTent-Peg\u201d on the Bogan isn\u2019t on the map of Australia, it must\nnot be inferred that the little township does not exist. Indeed, any\nold colonist who knows his way about will tell you that the place is in\nthe sister colony, and consists of one public-house, a blacksmith\u2019s\nshop, a store, a church (about the shape and size of a haystack), and a\nsmall branch bank.\n\nThe latter building presented nothing of the polish and artistic\nfinish, or the magnificence of many of our metropolitan banks, but it\nwas one of the most snug and cosy institutions in the whole country,\nwithin its walls. No doubt Toney Buck, the messenger, was of the same\nopinion, as he sat dozing before a warm coal fire, this severe winter\nnight, with no other company than a large black cat, of the male\ngender, for his companion.\n\nToney Buck was an orphan, aged twelve years, or thereabouts, and acted\nin the dual r\u00f4le of servant to the manager and messenger to the bank.\nThe boy slept on the premises, and the manager having gone to visit a\nneighbouring squatter, his servant had been ordered to sit up until he\nreturned. There Toney sat in the manager\u2019s armchair, bowing and nodding\nto the fire, as if it had been some great fetish to whom he was paying\nhomage. Toney was a very practical lad. Nothing fanciful or dreamy ever\nbothered Toney. Had the boy been otherwise, I\u2019m afraid he wouldn\u2019t have\nhad anything to do with the bank, because his employers were anything\nbut poets or visionaries, as some of my borrowing friends can testify.\nHowever, be this as it may, every time our hero opened his heavy\neyelids after each jerk forward, he encountered the round, black,\nwinking orbs of Tabby fixed full upon his face, with a strange\nexpression stamped thereon. Indeed, more than once Toney felt certain\nthat the cat actually laughed at him, and when discovered in the act,\ninstantly attempted to compose its features and wink at the fire in a\nknowing way. It is not a very easy task for a sleepy boy, who feels as\nif his eyelids were freighted with four-pound weights, to rouse himself\nand his waking faculties all in a moment, but Toney managed to sit bolt\nupright after a time and to stare at his companion. Toney fancied he\ncould stare. So he could without a doubt; but the cat could and did\nstare harder than Toney. Its eyes never moved, in their fixed look,\nfrom his face, yet he could see their colour change from black to pale\nsea-green, and from green to grey, and then turn flaming red as the\nfire. Toney feeling uncomfortable, removed his chair farther back,\nmuttering, \u201cOh, bother the cat!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhirr. You\u2019re another,\u201d replied a voice instantly.\n\nThe messenger was in the act of sitting down again, but he gave a jump\nas if a snake had bitten him. He looked first at Tabby, and then at the\nfire bewildered, and said, \u201cWho spoke?\u201d\n\n\u201cI did,\u201d replied the cat.\n\n\u201cGood gracious! Are you sure now?\u201d inquired Toney, with the scales\u2014or\nthe weights, rather\u2014fallen from his eyeballs.\n\n\u201cI did say \u2018You\u2019re another\u2019; and so you are. If you bother me I\u2019ll\nbother you!\u201d replied Tabby, whisking his long tail.\n\n\u201cOh, my! I never knew cats could talk, although I\u2019ve heard their voices\nsometimes, of a night, to some tune.\u201d\n\n\u201cNone of your sneers, Toney,\u201d interrupted Tabby quickly. \u201cThere are\nmore wonderful things in Australia than a talking cat, and some noises\nto which our midnight concerts are as sweet music in comparison. Listen\nto me. The bank will be robbed this very night. There!\u201d\n\n\u201cTalking cat\u2014the bank robbed. I\u2014I hope I\u2019m awake,\u201d cried Toney, tugging\nat his unkempt hair in astonishment.\n\n\u201cI hope you are, for there are those coming who will soon arouse you,\u201d\nreplied the cat, jumping on the back of a chair, and erecting his back\nin the form of a rainbow. \u201cHark! that noise is worse than our\ncaterwauling. Hear them forcing in the door of the front office.\u201d\n\nAs the cat spoke there came upon their ears first a low grating noise,\nthen followed a sound as if the heavy door of the bank had been\nwrenched off its hinges. \u201cLord help us! It\u2019s the bushrangers, and\nmaster\u2019s away. Oh! what shall I do?\u201d and the poor boy began to cry\nbitterly.\n\n\u201cStop crying. Wait and see!\u201d Tabby hadn\u2019t time to say more, ere three\nmen, with masks upon their faces, and armed with revolvers, rushed into\nthe room.\n\n\u201cHallo! only a boy here. Where\u2019s the manager?\u201d inquired one of the\nrobbers, grasping Toney.\n\n\u201cHe isn\u2019t here, sir.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome, none o\u2019 that,\u201d cried the man gruffly. \u201cTell us where he is, or\nI\u2019ll shove you a-top of that fire.\u201d\n\nToney looked at the fire, and then at the bushranger, and began to cry\nafresh.\n\n\u201cWhere\u2019s the manager?\u201d\n\n\u201cGone to Mr. Hilton\u2019s, the station on the river.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you certain?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, as certain as that you will be hanged.\u201d\n\nThe man let go his hold of Toney instantly, and stared first at the cat\nand then at the messenger, as if he was puzzled as to which had\nanswered him. He appeared to decide in favour of the boy, for he said\nhoarsely, \u201cNo cheek, my fine kiddie, or I\u2019ll roast you like a chicken.\nBring the keys of the safe, quick.\u201d\n\n\u201cMaster has them in his pocket, sir.\u201d\n\nThe robber swore a frightful oath, then held converse with his\ncompanions in an undertone. After which they produced a cord, and\nhaving tied the lad hand and foot, left him in the room with the cat,\nlocked the door on the outside, and proceeded to ransack the bank.\n\nPoor Toney! What could he do against three armed men? The manager, his\nmaster, had been very good to him. He was father and mother and brother\nand sister all in one. What would he say when he returned and found the\nplace robbed\u2014the money gone? Hadn\u2019t he entrusted all the gold, and\nnotes, and papers\u2014worth thousands and thousands of pounds\u2014into his\n(Toney\u2019s) custody, and here were villains breaking open these sacred\ncoffers with hammer and crowbar in ruthless plunder! In his trouble, he\nalmost wished the bushrangers would come in and roast him as they had\npromised to do. Even that would be preferable to facing his kind\nmaster.\n\n\u201cToney. Hi, Toney!\u201d The boy jumped. He had forgotten all about the cat.\n\n\u201cYou were always kind to me, Toney, and I\u2019m going to help you now.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow can a cat help anybody?\u201d replied poor Toney.\n\n\u201cAh! but I wasn\u2019t always a cat, Toney.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, bother; I suppose you mean when you were a little kitten,\u201d\nmuttered the boy.\n\n\u201cNo, I don\u2019t, Toney Buck. I never was a kitten. I mean when I was a\nhappy fairy in Elfland, before I was changed into a cat for being cruel\nand selfish.\u201d\n\n\u201cSnooks!\u201d answered Toney sceptically.\n\n\u201cWho?\u201d\n\n\u201cSnooks! It won\u2019t do, you know. There ain\u2019t no fairies, nor moonland,\nand such nonsense.\u201d\n\n\u201cSupposing my shape were to change again, here under your very nose;\nwould you believe what you saw?\u201d\n\n\u201cRather! but you can\u2019t do it, puss.\u201d\n\n\u201cCan\u2019t I? You shall see,\u201d replied Tabby. \u201cSay: \u2018Sevle naila rtsua\u2019 very\nslowly. Now!\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2018Sevle naila rtsua,\u2019\u201d cried the boy in a brisk tone; but he had no\nsooner uttered the words than the black cat vanished into thin air, and\nin its place he beheld a wee, thin, elderly gentleman dressed in\nhunting costume, seated astride the back of the chair, who bowed very\npolitely and lifted his hat to the astonished messenger.\n\n\u201cWell I never!\u201d cried Toney. \u201cWho are you, pray?\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2018Sevle naila rtsua!\u2019\u201d replied the little man, laughing.\n\n\u201cWhat is \u2018Sevle naila rtsua\u2019?\u201d demanded the boy.\n\n\u201cRead the letters backwards and join the first two syllables together.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! A-u-s-t-r-a-l-i-a-n\u2014E-l-v-e-s\u2014Australian Elves, eh?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s it, Toney; I\u2019m proud to be one of them, my boy. Now I\u2019ll show\nyou how a cat can help you out of this scrape,\u201d answered the wee man,\nwith a smile only to be seen on the face of a fairy. \u201cI\u2019m going out at\nthat broken pane in the window there, straight to Dick Holmes\u2019 stable,\ntake out the steeplechaser \u2018Nightwind,\u2019 ride as fast as he can go to\nthe junction, return with half-a-dozen troopers by a short cut, and\nsecure these ruffians red-handed with their booty.\n\n\u201cHurrah!\u201d cried Toney in his enthusiasm.\n\n\u201cHush, boy. Not so loud,\u201d said the elfin; \u201cthey may hear you. I must\naway on my errand quickly; yet mind, Toney, if you don\u2019t see the bank\ncat here again, I\u2019m always to be found on the banks of the Bogan. Keep\ngood heart. Good-bye.\u201d\n\nWith a hop, skip, and a jump the wee man was through the broken pane\nand astride the horse \u201cNightwind\u201d before the boy could realise that he\nwas alone.\n\nMeanwhile the strong-room of the bank resounded with the heavy blows\ndealt by the robbers upon the solid doors of the iron safe, which for a\nlong time withstood their utmost attempts to break it open. Poor Toney\nsat in fear and trembling, and counted the minutes as they fled by,\nlistening to the noises without, and wondering if the little elfin man\nwould really do what he promised. It seemed hardly possible that he\ncould sit a horse at all, much less guide the crack steeplechaser\n\u201cNightwind\u201d across country on a dark night. Nevertheless, the confident\ntone of the fairy before he jumped out at the window reassured him, and\nhope began to gather in Toney the messenger.\n\nAlas! that hope was dispelled the next moment by a loud shout from the\nbushrangers, which proclaimed that the safe had yielded. Had the\nrobbers been less intent upon the bags of gold and silver which met\ntheir gaze, it is probable they would have seen the half-dozen\npolice-troopers who entered, carbine in hand, and surrounded them. When\nthe ruffians did see them, however, it was too late to resist, and they\nwere taken away out into the darkened night, some of them never to see\nthe light of the sun again as free men.\n\nAt the trial of the bushrangers the police couldn\u2019t swear who gave the\ninformation about the bank, and I believe it remains a mystery to this\nday.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nGUMTREE HOLLOW.\n\n\nLike \u201cBen Bolt\u2019s\u201d mill, Allan\u2019s farm, situated by the River Torrens,\nhad gone to decay and ruin. It was a flourishing place before the death\nof Peter Allan, but the farmer had been taken away, and his widow and\nher three children had to fight out the battle of life unaided. The\nproperty had been heavily mortgaged three years previously, and, what\nwith unfavourable seasons and other misfortunes, the widow Allan had\nnot been able to repay principal or interest of the money borrowed, and\nthe creditors therefore gave the farmer\u2019s wife notice to quit.\n\nFortunately, Mrs. Allan had a brother who had gone to some diggings in\nNew South Wales, and had left in charge of his sister an old hut and a\npatch of land known as Gumtree Hollow. In the emergency the widow\ndetermined to occupy the place until she could find a more suitable\nhome. The Hollow consisted of about two acres of crags and stones,\nwithout sufficient soil to grow a potato in, and was distant from the\nfarm about five miles.\n\nOn a warm afternoon, three days after the widow had received notice to\nleave the homestead, little Charlie Allan, the eldest boy, aged twelve,\nstarted to the hut at Gumtree Hollow with his mother\u2019s goods and\nchattels in the spring-cart. It had been arranged that after delivering\nhis load the lad should return for his parent and his brother and\nsister. Charlie was intelligent and very kind-hearted. He had noticed\nhis mother crying bitterly, and he had followed her into a back room\nwhere his father had died, and there putting his little arms about her\nneck he had tried to soothe her with many assurances that when he\nbecame a man he would work for her and buy the place back again.\n\nOld Bob, the pony, didn\u2019t like the road to the hut, but repeatedly\nturned to retrace his steps every half-mile or so of the journey.\nNevertheless, Charlie managed to get him there at last.\n\nIn a ravine between a natural cutting of jagged crags stood the old\nbuilding, overshadowed by a gigantic tree whose wide-open trunk, hollow\nas a bell, had often afforded shelter to straggling picnic parties. It\nwas a grand, old, hoary gum, knobbed and gnarled with age, and whose\nspreading branches formed a canopy over the dilapidated hut. One long,\nfork-like branch projected farther over than the rest, on the extreme\nend of which something perched, swaying the bough to and fro with an\neasy motion. Charlie, thinking it was a parrot, took up a stone for a\nshot; but he dropped the stone again instantly, as a voice from the\ntree uttered a shrill peal of laughter.\n\nThe poor lad\u2019s first thought was to take to his heels and run for it;\nbut the voice called out in a kindly tone, \u201cHallo! Charlie \u2019avic, how\nare ye, Charlie Allan?\u201d\n\nThe boy gazed upward in amazement, and beheld a wee, teeny, queer\nfellow, hardly six inches high, sitting astride the branch, and gazing\ndown with a knowing look at him. The creature\u2019s dress was green; from\nhis shapely shoes to his brimless hat, swallow-tailed coat, breeches,\nstockings, all were the verdant green colour.\n\n\u201cWho are you?\u201d questioned Charlie, recovering from his surprise.\n\n\u201cShure I\u2019m an Irishman,\u201d cried the little fellow, at the same time\nspringing to the ground. \u201cA rale paddy, an\u2019 I may tell you that there\nisn\u2019t a fay or a gnome in South Australia that I can\u2019t leap or swim\nwid; do\u2019s thee hear that, \u2019avic?\u201d\n\nHe was such a dwarfed miniature of a man, and appeared such an impudent\nswaggerer\u2014with his chimney-pot hat on one side of his head, and his\nsaucy turned-up nose\u2014that Charlie felt inclined to pick him up and cuff\nhim soundly.\n\n\u201cWhat is your name?\u201d asked the boy, making a sudden dive at the\ncreature.\n\n\u201cMcKombo,\u201d answered the sprite, dodging under Charlie\u2019s legs. \u201cMy name\nis McKombo; but be aisy wid ye now, an\u2019 don\u2019t be after trying to take a\nmane advantage of me.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019d scorn to do it,\u201d said Charlie, unconsciously clenching his fists.\n\u201cWho are you; what are you; and what do you want?\u201d\n\n\u201cBe aisy, Charlie. Arrah\u2019, don\u2019t be botherin\u2019 me wid too many\nquestions,\u201d said McKombo. \u201cI\u2019ve tould ye I\u2019m an Irishman. Captain\nBrophy imported me to the colony in a hat-box twenty years ago.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, you\u2019re a fairy,\u201d suggested the lad, eyeing his strange companion\naskance.\n\n\u201cOf course I am,\u201d replied McKombo, \u201cand I may tell you I\u2019ve been\nwaiting all this blessed day to see you.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo see me?\u201d\n\n\u201cThrue for ye, Charlie. I am very well acquainted wid all the bother\nan\u2019 trouble that\u2019s going on at the farm, an\u2019 I mane to help your mother\nclane out of it.\u201d\n\nPoor Charlie felt as if he could have hugged McKombo, but the sprite\nkept his distance and said quietly, \u201cYou haven\u2019t such a thing as a\nspade and a pick among the things in the cart?\u201d\n\nCharlie had, though. Both the pick and the spade he had used many a\ntime at the farm, and he produced them at once; but he looked\ndoubtfully at McKombo as to what he was to do with them or how they\ncould be the means of assisting his mother in her difficulties. It\nseemed very business-like, however, the way the sprite led Charlie to\nthe hollow trunk of the great gum-tree, and commanded him to dig within\na certain circle he at once marked out. The goblin\u2019s promises of\ncertain and speedy benefit gave the boy faith and energy to dig and\ndelve away with might and main until there gaped a large hole within\nthe trunk, which revealed some of the thick roots beneath, also the top\nof a square tin box, such as lawyers keep their deeds in. The moment\nMcKombo caught sight of the box he began to caper about the sward in\nantic glee.\n\n\u201cHurrah!\u201d he cried, tossing up his hat. \u201cThere it is, me boy, safe an\u2019\nsound, as on the night I saw them murthering scoundrels place it there\ntwenty years ago.\u201d\n\nPoor Charlie stared at the fairy, and wiped the perspiration from his\nheated face, but he could not comprehend what his companion meant.\nActing under McKombo\u2019s directions, young Allan made a lever and got the\nbox out of its bed. It did not appear large, but it was very heavy\u2014so\nheavy that the boy could hardly lift it; the thick coating of paint on\nit had preserved it from rusting and decay, and it was fastened with an\niron padlock. With one blow of his spade Charlie broke open the lid,\nwhen\u2014lo! he saw a heap of dark yellow sovereigns and several parcels of\nbank-notes within. The sight made him faint and giddy with surprise and\ndelight, so that he could not utter a word.\n\n\u201cLook there, now. See that,\u201d ejaculated the sprite, pointing to the\ntreasure. \u201cOne evening, twenty years ago, three men brought that box\nhere and hid it beneath the trunk of this old gum-tree; they went away,\nbut never returned for it. In time a poor woodcutter built his hut\nbeneath the great tree, and I watched him come and go to his daily\ntoil, until he could toil no more and they carried him forth and buried\nhim on the river-bank. Then came your Uncle George, my boy, who\npurchased the place for ten pounds; but had he known of the riches\nunder his very nose, I\u2019ll go bail he wouldn\u2019t have gone away to dig for\ngold.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you tell Uncle George about this money?\u201d asked Charlie.\n\n\u201cBekase he would have spent it recklessly, honey, that\u2019s why. Money\nill-spent or misapplied is a great evil. Put the box on the cart wid\nthe things, and return to your mother. Off wid ye, boy, at onst.\u201d\n\n\u201cWon\u2019t you come with me?\u201d pleaded Charlie.\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t, \u2019avic, I\u2019m going to a christening at McFadden\u2019s in the Glen.\nAway ye go. Good-bye.\u201d Saying which, McKombo vanished from his sight.\n\nWidow Allan was very much astonished when Charlie returned and told his\nstory, but her surprise was still greater when she saw the box of hard\ncash. She counted the money, which amounted to over three thousand\npounds sterling; after which she fastened the box again, and wrote a\nletter to the manager of a certain bank in Sydney, and to which most of\nthe notes belonged.\n\nIn due course the bank sent a representative to Allan\u2019s farm, who\ninformed the widow that the bank had been robbed of over three thousand\npounds one night in June twenty years ago, and which had never been\nrecovered. The bank agent departed with the money, but he left the poor\nbut honest widow a cheque for \u00a3500\u2014a sum which not only paid off the\nliability upon her farm, but enabled her to put something by for a\nrainy day and for Charlie when he came of age.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nWHISKERKISS.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nTHE MYSTERIOUS JOURNEY.\n\nIn the heart of the far Australian wild\u2014away from traces of\ncivilisation, and beyond the hope of help, a brave youth, faint with\ntravel and with hunger, reclines completely exhausted by the bank of a\nbroad river. He is the last of a band of nine who have attempted to\nexplore the central portion of our vast continent, where on the Atlas\nwe read, written right across the great blank, Unexplored. All his\ncompanions have perished of want and thirst, and Roland Trent, although\nhe has reached water, and has quenched his burning thirst, feels that\nhe also must follow his comrades ere long. He is very weak and so\nfatigued that he cannot stand; but he can see the flowing stream and\nthe sunlit landscape, which anon becomes o\u2019erclouded in his vicinity by\nthe shadow of some moving object between him and the river. What could\nit be?\n\nThe explorer looked up in wonder, and beheld a small and very ugly old\nman standing and grinning at him. The creature was most outrageously\ngrotesque in form\u2014having, by some freak of nature, the body of a child\nwith the head of a giant. No one, not even Mr. Punch, could boast a\nfiner hump than protruded from between the shoulders of the intruder.\nFrom out a circular hole in his jerkin the hump rose bare, behind the\nbig round skull, like a sugar loaf. He had small eyes, but they were\ninfinitely more terrible than all his other deformity put together; at\none moment they glowed with a phosphorescent sheen, which changed again\nto a vivid purple light, and from that to diamond flashes, without the\nclosing of an eyelid.\n\n\u201cHo! Ho! Who is more powerful than fire, stronger then the wind, and\ndeeper than the streams? Whiskerkiss\u2014I am he.\u201d\n\nThe voice of the old fellow was dreadful, and echoed with a sullen roar\nlike the growl of a lion, \u201cI am Whiskerkiss, King of the Mountain\nBarrier, and Lord of Birds and Beasts. Who art thou?\u201d\n\nThe lips of the fainting youth answered, \u201cAn unfortunate explorer.\u201d\n\n\u201cHa! Ha!\u201d laughed the grim sprite in mimicry. \u201cThou puny mortal! Thou\nan explorer! Why, thy poor breath is nearly spent, ere thou hast\nreached the threshold of the great Unknown. Ho! Ho!\u201d\n\nRoland Trent shuddered.\n\n\u201cWouldst thou see the wonders of this vast division of the globe? Come\nwith Whiskerkiss, and he will show thee fertile lands, great lakes, and\npowerful nations in this unexplored interior. Come! here is my boat,\nand Starmoon, my slave, lashes the stream impatiently.\u201d\n\nAs the dwarf spoke, he lifted Roland in his arms and placed him in a\nskiff upon the river, which immediately shot along the watery way with\nthe speed of an express train. It was some time before Roland Trent\nrecovered from the half unconscious state in which he had been conveyed\nto the boat; by-and-by, however, his vision became more clear, and he\nsaw a sight he had never seen before. The skiff was nothing but a frail\ncanoe, at the stern of which stood Whiskerkiss steering; but in front,\na great, strange fish was harnessed to the bow, and plunging through\nthe stream with immense velocity.\n\nNo pearl diver ever encountered such a quaint-looking denizen of the\ndeep, as Starmoon the goblin fish of Whiskerkiss. It was in shape like\nan alligator, only its legs were as those of a grasshopper, which it\nused in place of fins while swimming. Fully twenty feet in length, it\nhad a body as thick as a bullock, and a long spike projecting out of\nthe top of its head. The face of the monster was hideous to behold\u2014the\nrolling eyes, dreadful mouth, filled with a row of sharp, glistening\nteeth, and above all, it appeared to jibber, and make faces at our\nhero, as he looked at it in its swift course.\n\nAnd now the river widened into a deep black gulf, and the shore receded\nfrom their gaze; not a ripple broke over the sullen surface, for the\nwaters were like thick oil. Dark objects, in rapid motion, darted along\nlike dolphins, and played leap-frog over the skiff. Roland Trent put\nhis hand over the side; to his astonishment the water felt quite hot.\nHe dipped a little up in the hollow of his palm, and tasted it. Pah! It\nwas not salt, nor fresh, but worse than either, as it instantly\nproduced a horrible nauseous feeling in him akin to stupor.\n\nOnward went Starmoon at increased speed, urged by his master\nWhiskerkiss, until Roland beheld a great mountain range in the\ndistance, which they rapidly approached. Abrupt and perpendicular, the\nsummit of these high hills was lost in the clouds. The canoe sped\nonwards, and it seemed as if the frail barque would be dashed to atoms\nagainst their rugged sides. Daylight faded away as they drew near, and\na distant roaring noise shook the sluggish waters. Were they hurrying\nto some fatal m\u00e4elstrom, or going headlong into some tremendous cavity\nin the bowels of the mountains? Roland\u2019s spirit quailed within him at\nthe thought. In the dim twilight, he saw the boat had entered an\nenormous cavern, where a dense wall of black rock, or rather boulders,\nwere piled in wild disorder one above the other, and terminating in a\nflat roof of the same description.\n\n\u201cHo, ho! I am Whiskerkiss, King of Woods and Stream,\u201d and the voice of\nthe steersman awoke the slumbering echoes of the dreary place with ten\nthousand vibrations.\n\n\u201cWho sails through rocks and hills, and guides the torrent in its\ncourse? I, Whiskerkiss. Ho! Starmoon. Ho! my slave, delve, delve!\u201d\n\nGradually the darkness became more opaque around them. Roland cast\nhimself down at the bottom of the canoe, and awaited his fate. He\nclosed his eyes in horror at the vision of that dread abyss.\n\nThe time passed on, and still the same ghastly darkness prevailed. Our\nhero knew not whether it was night or day, or how many hours had passed\nsince they had entered that dreadful passage under the mountain. From a\nsort of torpor into which he had fallen Roland was at length aroused by\na touch on his cheek. It was not the touch which animated him so\nquickly, but the intensely pleasing sensation which it caused. Like\nthat warm, thrilling emotion caused by the infusion of laughing gas,\nRoland felt a vigorous glow pervade his whole frame in an instant. He\nopened his eyes, but the bright rush of the noon-day light which burst\nunexpectedly upon his sight completely blinded him.\n\nHe shaded his eyes at first, until he should become accustomed to the\nglare. When at length he looked up, lo! where were Starmoon and\nWhiskerkiss, and the black unclean waters of the murky cavern below the\nmountains? Gone! With his hearing more acute, his sight much keener,\nand with every other faculty braced and quickened, the explorer found\nhimself the occupant of a beautiful boat canopied with gold and silver\nnetwork of rare design and workmanship. The sides and bottom of the\nskiff were inlaid with mother-of-pearl, while a large outspread fan, at\nthe stern, of the same material, gave the resemblance of a gorgeous\npeacock floating on a silver stream. A dozen creatures, dazzlingly\nfair, and dressed superbly, propelled the boat with ivory paddles;\nwhile one who appeared robed in roseate splendour stood at his side,\nand pointed out to him a glorious country.\n\nYonder shone an immense valley, shut in by Alpine hills, of a deep,\nrich green, spangled with flowers. Birds of every hue and shade flitted\nfrom tree to tree, and filled the air with melody. At the foot of the\nhills a clear lake sparkled in the sunlight, and beyond the lake rose\nthe towers, peaks, and domes of a beautiful city of white marble, which\nflashed back the sun\u2019s rays in a million shafts of different coloured\nlights. The magnificence of this scene grew each moment yet more\nglowing and brilliant as Roland Trent gazed. Soon there smote upon his\near most ravishing sounds\u2014sounds that seemed as the tinkle of silver\nbells, mingled with the soft murmurs of the \u00c6olian harp. To his\nastonishment Roland discovered the melody proceeded from his\ncompanions, who were conversing with each other, and in his own\nlanguage. Next to the gratification of finding himself in such an\nenchanting region, the explorer was delighted to find these people\ncould understand and converse with him.\n\n\u201cGentlemen,\u201d said he, bowing politely, \u201cwill you have the goodness to\ntell me what country this is I now gaze upon for the first time?\u201d\n\nThe rowers ceased rowing at the sound of his voice, and the nearest to\nhim answered,\u2014\n\n\u201cO! adored mortal, we are thy slaves. This is the kingdom of Bo-Peep,\nand is called Dreamland. No feet of soul-lit mortal hath ever trodden\nour soil before. Hail to thee! immortal one!\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you the King of this fair land?\u201d inquired our hero.\n\n\u201cNay, I am but his Majesty\u2019s messenger\u2014my name is Pop-Corn. What shall\nwe call thee?\u201d\n\n\u201cRoland, the Explorer.\u201d\n\n\u201cWelcome, then, to our shores. Thou shalt see Bo-Peep and his daughter\nPrincess Golden Hair.\u201d\n\nThe rowers resumed their paddles, and the fairy boat shot down the\nshining stream into the lovely sheen of the lake by the marble city.\n\nMoments in Dreamland are as days with us. Therefore it will take a week\nof our time to prepare the charming Princess Golden Hair to receive our\nhero. Next Saturday the bold explorer shall be ushered into her\npresence at the Court of Bo-Peep.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nPRINCESS GOLDEN HAIR.\n\nThe metropolis of Dreamland presented a most glorious spectacle of\nmagnificence and beauty to the wondering eyes of Roland Trent, as the\nfairy boat glided into the lake near the city. Beneath a fine marble\ncolonnade, supported by pillars of jasper, he beheld a crowd of people,\ncomposed chiefly of Ministers of State and the nobles of the King,\nstanding ready to give him welcome, while beyond these dignitaries a\ngreat square was filled with his Majesty\u2019s Guards, armed cap-\u00e0-pi\u00e9 in\nsilver armour, and surrounded by lithe, gay figures, who flitted to and\nfro like gorgeous butterflies in the sunlight.\n\nThe Australian youth was amazed at the dazzling beauty of the ladies,\nwho gathered round him as he landed, with loud cries. Some of them even\nwent so far out of the rule of good breeding and etiquette in their\nreception as to embrace and almost smother him with kisses. But there\nare no Mrs. Grundys in Elfland, and so the dames enjoyed themselves\nwith the freedom and the innocence of children. With waving banners and\nbands of music, which sounded to his ears like so many tinkling musical\nboxes, our hero was escorted by a troop of silver-clad Guards to the\npalace of Bo-Peep. Grander than anything that ever entered the mind of\nthat famous architect, Sir Christopher Wren, rose the glittering domes\nand lofty peaks of the fairy King\u2019s palace. Through a labyrinth of\nbudding roses perfuming the air around; by gold and silver fountains in\nfull play, and whose soft cadence fell upon the ear like angels\u2019\nwhispers; beneath a natural arch of mighty trees, every one of which\nheld a thronged choir of winged choristers warbling forth a jubilee;\nand onward, amid glories and beauties unknown to the hosts of the\nwaking world, into the presence of Bo-Peep. No comparison in this\nsea-bordered city would help to convey the faintest conception of the\npomp and splendour of the King\u2019s reception-hall. Nature and Art had\nhere combined, and the blended effect was sublime. Not the array of\nnobles nor the throng of superbly dressed ladies, through whom he\npassed, nay, not even the throne itself, ablaze with jewels and\nprecious stones, which circled in the elfin monarch as the ring of a\nmagic lantern, had any attraction for the young stranger. His eyes had\nfallen upon a young creature of enchanting loveliness at the King\u2019s\nside, and he had become spellbound thereby.\n\nPoet or painter never dreamed of such a vision of beauty. Not the\nsunset glow had a richer tint than the long glossy hair of Bo-Peep\u2019s\nonly daughter. She was named \u201cPrincess Golden Hair\u201d; and well did she\nmerit the name, for it was the most glorious golden hair that mortal\neye had ever seen. So Roland Trent thought as he was led forward and\nseated by her side.\n\nHere where the laws of Nature (as we recognise them) are altered and\nsuspended, the Princess and the mortal wanderer became enamoured of\neach other instantly.\n\nOh! the power, the irresistible charm of love! How it glowed in the\neyes of Princess Golden Hair, and made the bewitching face yet more\ncharming! Like the clear notes of a flute, only infinitely softer and\nmore thrilling, her voice came upon his ears: \u201cWelcome, oh, my\nPrince\u2014lord of my being!\u2014welcome to Dreamland!\u201d\n\nWhat mattered the cheers of the people and the great speech from the\nfairy King, and the grand banquet that followed\u2014what mattered the\nthousand surprises and the wonderful things that encountered him at\nevery turn? There was no fascination like the lovely Princess.\n\nGlorious light and sunshine reigned here eternally. Roland watched in\nvain for the approach of eve and darkness; but gloom came not. It was\none never-ceasing day.\n\nBy order of Bo-Peep, our hero was attired in rich robes softer than\nsilken velvet, which emitted a rose-coloured glow, mingled with a\ndelicious perfume, that by some mysterious power gave him a keener zest\nfor pleasure and enjoyment. Go where he would, the King\u2019s daughter was\never at his side.\n\nWhat bliss to be with her on the bright lake, seated beneath a canopy\nof roses in the royal barge; what sensations he felt with his head\npillowed on her lap, and her snow-white fingers toying with his curls!\n\n\u201cThe sun never fades in this enchanting valley?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d she replied softly. \u201cThe great light is our life. Dulness is\ndestruction in Dreamland. We are only creatures of an hour, that is\nall.\u201d\n\nOh, what witchery in the low, thrilling voice! Creatures of an hour,\nforsooth. Take care, Princess Golden hair! Take care.\n\n\u201cYour people are very beautiful, my Princess; but thou art fairer than\na summer dream,\u201d he responded gaily.\n\n\u201cFlatterer, I and my people are but as dreams,\u201d she answered, smiling.\n\u201cAll thou see\u2019st here of brightness and splendour are merely passing\nvisions, nothing more.\u201d\n\n\u201cThou art more real and enchanting, dear Rosebud, than any dream that\nhas haunted me.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, adored stranger, mock me not,\u201d said Golden Hair. \u201cI am as the\nwind, which fills our sail\u2014here, there, then gone for ever. Life with\nme is but a breath. But thou\u2014thou wilt live when the wind and the vast\nsun, which giveth our race life and motion, are fled for ever.\u201d\n\n\u201cDear Princess,\u201d and he caught her hand within his own, looking into\nher eyes the while, \u201cLove is not a breath, a sunbeam. It is mightier\nthan the wind, and more powerful than the combined forces of sea and\nair. Didst thou ever love, sweet maiden?\u201d\n\nWhat soft diffused light, glinting from the rich window of some ancient\ncathedral, ever shed such a rosy glow as was seen for one brief instant\nupon her face?\n\n\u201cOh, Love has come with thee from beyond the Western Mountain,\u201d she\nanswered quietly.\n\n\u201cAnd thou hast felt its presence?\u201d\n\n\u201cAy, in thee. Yet thou hast brought a demon with thee also,\u201d she\nreplied.\n\n\u201cThe sprite Whiskerkiss; of course, I remember.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, not Whiskerkiss; but a gnome a thousand times more terrible than\nthe monster of the Barrier.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what is that, Princess?\u201d\n\n\u201cPain,\u201d replied Golden Hair.\n\n\u201cWhat! has Pain never entered into this realm?\u201d he inquired with\namazement.\n\n\u201cNever.\u201d\n\n\u201cWonderful!\u201d he ejaculated. \u201cHad my charming Princess ever the\ntoothache?\u201d\n\nThe ringing laugh which burst from her lips was like the carol of a\ncanary on a June morning.\n\n\u201cNor the whooping-cough or\u2014or the measles?\u201d he added, smiling at her\nexcessive merriment.\n\n\u201cStop, stop!\u201d she cried, looking at him with a wilful light in her\nlarge eyes, that held him as a spell. \u201cThe words thou hast uttered are\nunknown to me, even as Pain was unknown to me ere I saw thee.\u201d\n\nA cloud fell over his handsome face at her words, which did not escape\nGolden Hair, for she added quickly, \u201cLord of my life, Love and Pain are\ntwinborn, and go hand-in-hand, but the one is so beautiful that it\ndestroys even while it creates the other. Thou seemest to me all love.\nTell me, are all thy race like thee?\u201d\n\n\u201cFair Princess,\u201d he replied gravely, \u201cbeyond the Mountain Barrier from\nwhence I came the people are as varied as the hues on yonder peak. Some\nthere are who feel not love. Many suffer pain willingly in the service\nof a powerful world-god called Money. Amid the many fetishes who are\nhonoured and exalted, none are more esteemed than this. At his word\nmighty empires rise in the wilderness, oceans are bridged, space\nchanged into a willing slave.\u201d\n\n\u201cMoney is a mighty demon,\u201d answered Princess Golden Hair.\n\n\u201cYes, lady,\u201d continued Roland. \u201cMoney is mighty, but ere now he has\nlent his power to an evil spirit called Hate, who going broadcast among\nthe races of men has incited them to gather together and destroy each\nother without cause.\u201d\n\n\u201cHate is a monster, uglier than Pain,\u201d replied the fairy.\n\n\u201cAy, and he is invariably assisted by three other wicked powers known\nas Murder, Slander, and Malice.\u201d\n\n\u201cPoor lost people!\u201d cried the gentle Princess. \u201cIs there no good genii\nto do battle with these wicked ones?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh yes; the renowned champion Sympathy has unfurled his banner to meet\nthe hosts of evil in the world; and by-and-by the people who have\ngroaned groans from their birth shall live as serene and peaceful as\nthe shadows on this lake. And now, sweet love, I would fain close my\neyes in repose, under the melody of thy lute.\u201d\n\nSweetly fell the cadence over the still waters. Goldenly shone the\ndomes and peaks of the marble palaces, as Roland Trent dreamed.\n\nShall we wake him out of his glorious vision? Nay; let him slumber on.\nHe will open his eyes soon enough upon the realities of this sober\nempire at the Antipodes.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nA CROOKED SIXPENCE.\n\n\nPatter, patter, splash, splash, drip, drip, fell the rain on the\nhousetops, down the waterspouts, and along the narrow streets of the\nNew South Wales capital. A dismal evening to be abroad; the fierce wind\nplaying antic tricks with the people returning home from work, by\ndriving the rain full in their faces, turning their umbrellas inside\nout, and compelling many to seek temporary shelter beneath verandahs\nand the projecting gables of high buildings.\n\nThe tempest of wind and rain didn\u2019t appear to trouble a small,\ndirty-looking urchin who had taken up his quarters in a sheltered nook\nat the corner of one of the main thoroughfares of the city, and where\nhe crouched, watching the vehicles, with their gleaming lamps, dash\nonward through the mud and wet. The poor child\u2019s clothes would have\nsuited a warmer temperature than the keen wind and rain; but he\nindulged in an occasional short run beneath the portico to keep his\nblood in circulation. It was while taking his trot to and fro that the\nboy\u2019s attention was attracted by the stoppage of an omnibus, which drew\nclose up to the curb to allow an old gentleman to alight therefrom. He\nwas a portly old fellow, buttoned up in a portly overcoat, and he\ncarried a portly umbrella. The boy noted this by the light of the gas\nlamp as the passenger went by him, and he also noted a small dark\nobject lying on the wet pavement, not a yard away, that was not there\nbefore.\n\n\u201cHallo! What\u2019s this? A pocket-book with money in it. That gentleman who\npassed has lost it. Hi, sir, hi!\u201d And away ran the urchin in pursuit of\nthe elderly gentleman. The little fellow overtook him, after a good\nchase against the pelting rain, which soaked his thin garments through\nand through. \u201cI say, sir, hi!\u201d\n\n\u201cBe off, boy! I never give to beggars,\u201d said the old gentleman, turning\nround upon the lad briskly.\n\n\u201cI ain\u2019t a beggar,\u201d answered the little fellow with spirit. \u201cI ran\nafter you to know if yer lost anything just now.\u201d\n\n\u201cLost! lost! not a\u2014\u2014I say, by Jove! you\u2014you don\u2019t mean to\u2014\u2014why, if it\nis not gone, and I would not lose it for\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\nThe actions of the portly gentleman were somewhat singular. He first\npassed his hand hastily over the breast of his buttoned-up coat, then\nhe threw down his open umbrella on the pavement\u2014which the wind carried\naway in a moment\u2014tore open his clothing violently, and dived into the\nrecesses of a capacious inner pocket. Then he began a frenzied sort of\nwar-dance in front of the boy. \u201cI had it in my hand not ten minutes\nsince,\u201d he cried excitedly; \u201cand I can swear to it before the Mayor and\nall the J. P.\u2019s in the colony. Mark that.\u201d\n\n\u201cMark what, sir?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, I have told you\u2014haven\u2019t I? My pocket-book, full of\u2014\u2014Ah! I see you\nhave found it, my good, honest lad,\u201d he went on, altering his tone, and\nrecovering his composure as the child held out the bloated purse to its\nowner. \u201cFull of documents, boy; of no use to anybody but me. Thank you\nfor restoring it.\u201d\n\nHe snatched at the recovered treasure, and hastily unfastened the clasp\nto see if any of its contents had been disturbed, revealing to the\nyouth some of the documents, which appeared marvellously like\nbank-notes, and a good many of them.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s all right, my little man. Stop! What is your name?\u201d\n\n\u201cEddy Wilkinson, sir.\u201d\n\n\u201cEddy Wilkinson, eh? Where d\u2019ye live, boy? Where\u2019s your father and\nmother?\u201d\n\n\u201cFather\u2019s dead; and we live in Baker\u2019s Court, Redfern,\u201d answered Eddy,\nturning to depart.\n\n\u201cStay one moment. I like to encourage honesty. Honesty is the best\npolicy, eh?\u201d cried the old gentleman, fumbling in his vest pocket.\n\u201cHere is sixpence for you, and to-morrow, if you call at the office of\nBalam Bros., Woolbrokers, York Street, I will consider about a further\nreward. Now run off home out of the wet.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s very mean of him, so it is, only to give me sixpence for finding\nsuch a lot of money,\u201d muttered Eddy, as he trotted homeward through the\nstorm. \u201cWell, well, I must not grumble; sixpences are sixpences these\n\u2019ere times\u2014so mother says. But what a thin, battered old coin it is!\u201d\nhe cried, holding it up beneath the glare of a gas lamp. \u201cI believe\nit\u2019s a bad one!\u201d and the boy closed his sharp teeth on it the next\nmoment.\n\n\u201cOh dear! Oh!\u201d shrieked a voice, which seemed to issue out of Eddy\u2019s\nown mouth. The poor child dropped the coin instantly, and ran for his\nlife; but he soon recovered from his surprise, and returned to where\nthe sixpence lay on the shining flag in the full light of the street\nlamp.\n\n\u201cSurely it wasn\u2019t you who cried out just now?\u201d said Eddy,\napostrophising it.\n\n\u201cYes, it was, and you have hurt me very much, biting me in such a\nsavage way,\u201d replied the crooked sixpence reprovingly. \u201cHere have I\nbeen rudely tossed and hustled from pouch to pocket, and hand to hand,\nto try and serve you, and you show your gratitude by saying I\u2019m bad.\nFor shame, Eddy Wilkinson.\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed, I\u2019m very sorry, ma\u2019am,\u201d rejoined Eddy, astonished and\ntrembling all over at the strange incident.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m not of the feminine gender, Eddy. Don\u2019t call me \u2018ma\u2019am,\u2019 please.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well, sir,\u201d apologised the boy.\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s worse; I\u2019m not a gentleman.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat are you, then?\u201d asked the lad, in an impatient tone.\n\n\u201cNeither one nor the other, yet I\u2019m a little of both. If you turn me on\nthis side, I\u2019m a man; roll me over, and I\u2019m a woman. Still I\u2019m\nincongruous, and only a sixpence,\u201d replied the coin.\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re very thin, and worn, and of no earthly use to anybody, I\nthink,\u201d said Eddy boldly, \u201cexcept the banks, who are taking worn-out\ncustomers like you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall prove very useful to you, Eddy, so don\u2019t insult me. On me,\nthin as I am, you will build a stupendous fortune.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, let us be joyful!\u201d cried Eddy, shaking the rain from his rags.\n\n\u201cAnd when you grow to be a man, and are elected Mayor of this city,\u201d\nadded the sixpence, \u201cyou will wear me on your watchchain as a relic, to\nremind you of your first advanced step in life.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou old humbug! I\u2019ve a good mind to pick you up and spend you at the\nconfectioner\u2019s over the way,\u201d answered Eddy, laughing.\n\n\u201cThey won\u2019t have smooth money there,\u201d rejoined the coin. \u201cTake my\nadvice, and put me in your pocket out of the wet. As you said just now,\nI\u2019m very thin, and I can\u2019t stand the rain.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat shall I do with you then?\u201d\n\n\u201cPut me by in that old teapot in the cupboard at home until you get\nanother of my race to keep me company,\u201d answered the voice of the\ncrooked sixpence earnestly. \u201cRemember, boy, a penny saved is a penny\ngained, for it is by such small beginnings that people have amassed\nfortunes to benefit humanity, and by saving pennies and sixpences,\nlittle boys who have no fathers to work for them have been enabled to\nassist their widowed mothers and to make their home comfortable and\nhappy.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is quite true. I\u2019m sure, I often wish I could keep my mother, who\nis always working,\u201d answered the child in a sad tone.\n\n\u201cYour wish will be gratified, Eddy, if you only take my advice,\u201d said\nthe voice, in the same resolute accent. \u201cYou are ten years old, and you\nought to begin to earn money. The gentleman whose purse you restored\nwants an office boy. When he sees you to-morrow he will employ you,\nbecause the prompt manner in which you returned his pocket-book has\nmade a good impression on him. Be careful to maintain and strengthen\nthat effort by being trustworthy, honest, and truthful; above all,\nnever forget the old teapot in the cupboard, where I shall be ready to\nwelcome every new-comer placed therein.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m so glad I\u2019m going to work to help mother, and I\u2019ll not forget what\nyou have said to me,\u201d replied the boy.\n\n\u201cI am fully aware of it, Eddy Wilkinson,\u201d responded the voice modestly.\n\u201cI have seen a great deal of human nature in my travels, and I have\nnoted that people\u2014both old and young\u2014rarely forget what I say to them.\nYou must know that I never came out of the Mint. I was born of a good\nold fairy family on the Queensland border. From my childhood I hated\nMoney, and was constantly railing against it and its evil influences,\nuntil our chief, Fen, transformed me into a sixpence as a penalty for\nmy abuse of Mammon. In less than a month I went from the dainty purse\nof the Governor\u2019s lady to the dirty fob of a sweep. Once I was the only\ncoin in the pocket of a poor solitary swagman travelling in the bush,\nwho was attacked by a robber and foully murdered; but had you seen the\nmurderer\u2019s face after rifling my master\u2019s pouch, and to find only me,\nyou would have said, as I did, that crime brings its own punishment.\nAgain, a very proud man dropped me on the pavement, and disdaining to\nstoop for me, there I lay for hours trampled by the crowd passing up\nand down. A poor, despairing, wretch, without a home, without a\nfriend\u2014without even the smallest means of procuring a meal\u2014hurried with\nfeverish haste through the by-ways of this great city, to end his life\nand his misery in the river; but he discovered me in his path. Weary\nand faint with long fasting, I supplied him with food and a night\u2019s\nlodging. With the return of day came other thoughts and fresh resolves,\nand so the man was saved the awful act of self-destruction, and lived\nto bless the old crooked sixpence.\u201d\n\nAnd so did little Eddy Wilkinson, my dear children. The firm of \u201cBalam\nBrothers & Wilkinson\u201d is one of the most sound and thriving concerns in\nthe colonies. The junior partner has just been elected to the civic\nchair of Sydney, and when he dies he intends to bequeath the crooked\nsixpence to the Museum.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE BALL IN THE DELL.\n\n\nTottie Maybush, of Melgrove on the hills, was never known to tell an\nuntruth. Yet little kind-hearted Tottie could not be certain whether\nshe had fallen asleep and dreamed all about the fairies\u2019 ball, or the\nspirits of the dell had carried her off bodily to their annual\nfestival. On one of our beautiful Australian midsummer nights, the\ndark-blue sky, and the earth beneath it, illumined by a full, radiant\nmoon, Tottie was seated under a large fig-tree in the garden, playing\nwith Sultan, the retriever puppy. The child\u2019s parents had gone to visit\na neighbour; therefore there was no one at home save Jane, the servant,\nwho had promised Tottie that she might remain up till they returned.\n\nNo one can say\u2014not even Tottie herself\u2014how it was she came to leave her\nseat and the puppy, and stroll all alone down the long walk beyond the\norchard, until she emerged upon a sloping lawn that dipped with an easy\nfall to the edge of the river. The round, full moon overhead cast thin\nstreaks and broad bars of soft light athwart the branches of the tall\ntrees, which formed triangles, circles, and crosses, about the sombre\ntrunks, and lay like scraps of burnished steel about her path. Out on\nthe mossy bank the moon\u2019s focus seemed to rest on one great patch of\nlight, whereon stood a group of small, slender, puny creatures, drawn\nup in two lines, like a regiment of soldiers on parade. Tiny and\ninsignificant as they appeared, Tottie could not help observing their\ncostumes, which were both elegant and superb. Every rich and varied\nflower in the botanical world of the Southern Hemisphere had lent its\nbloom and beauty to adorn their persons, while beyond their ranks, on\nthe placid bosom of the river, sat six large, white swans, attached to\nthe car of state, which glowed and sparkled under the beams of the moon\nlike a mass of sapphires.\n\nThe moment Tottie appeared, the King of the fairies stepped forth and\naddressed her,\u2014\n\n\u201cMortal, you are invited to our Jubilee in the dell. Xylophagus, my\nQueen, has sent her barge of state, together with this gallant escort,\nto convey you thither. Fear not to come with us; we are your friends\nand your slaves for the hour. Gentlemen, let your royal barge\napproach.\u201d\n\nThe elfin monarch waved his hand, when instantly there arose upon the\nair a choral melody from the fairy boat, far surpassing the song of\nbirds. No warbling bulbul, no melting note of dulcimer floating o\u2019er\nthe waters at still midnight, ever ravished the senses, or soothed with\ntones so liquid soft, as the strains which fell upon the ears of Tottie\nMaybush as she was borne aboard by the elves. They placed her on a\ncouch of softest down, fringed by a border of wild rose leaves, and two\nlovely fairy ladies fanned her with perfumed fans, which not only\nwarded off the mosquitoes, but lulled Tottie into a passive state,\nwherein she was utterly powerless to move or act, yet which left her\nsense of hearing and observation free and unfettered. What engines made\nof mortal hands could propel a boat so swiftly and noiselessly as those\nproud, vigorous swans, who glided onward down the river with the elfin\nbarque and its freight as if the whole thing had been no heavier than a\ngossamer? What mortal ears could conceive from out the world of sound\nsuch enchanting harmony? It was the silvery lullaby of Fairyland, that\nour Australian sprites might chant to some fretful changeling they had\nadopted and sought to hush to sleep.\n\nAnd now the view opens upon a magnificent glade, with here and there a\nhuge eucalyptus standing out in bold relief like a grim giant on guard.\nHere the elfin King and his grotesque retinue land, and escort their\nmortal guest across the velvet sward and through a grove of trees,\nwhich terminates in a deep dell\u2014the scene of the fairy ball.\n\nUpon a verdant, natural carpet, softer than velvet pile, stood two\nlines of young trees, from the roots of which the vines of the purple\nsarsaparilla had shot upward along the trunks and amongst the branches,\nand there bending with a graceful slope had met and entwined, and so\nhad formed a long trellis-work roof, where the moon beamed through in\ntwice ten thousand rays into the gallery beneath.\n\nThe elfin King conducted Tottie into this primeval hall, where Queen\nXylophagus was seated with her ladies on a bank of wild violets. The\nchild was quite bewildered at the wildly odd scene that met her gaze.\nThe gallery was hung round with myriads of glow-worms and fire-flies,\nwhich illumined the place with a soft, subdued light, and shed a\nsparkling sheen on the parti-coloured robes of the gay creatures which\nmoved to and fro about her. Here, as in the higher world of mortals,\nthe ladies fanned and flirted, while the gentlemen flattered and were\nsmilingly attentive; but there was no lurking devil behind it all with\nthe elves. They, at least, were genuine.\n\n\u201cApproach, O mortal, and kiss my hand,\u201d cried the fairy Queen, rising\nand saluting Tottie. \u201cIn this dell thou shalt be fed on honeyed words.\nWe will deck thee with jewels brought from hidden caves and gathered in\nbowers of green, where loop the clustered vines. Pure pearls of may-dew\nshall adorn thy fair young brow like summer\u2019s fruited gems, ripe and\nmellow.\u201d\n\nTottie tried to thank her Majesty.\n\n\u201cThese are my ladies,\u201d continued the Queen, pointing to several lovely\nfays beside her. \u201cMoppet, stand forth. This is our lady of the robes,\nwho supplies a new dress for our person every morning.\u201d\n\nA fair, wee creature rose from her seat and kissed Tottie.\n\n\u201cMoth and Poppy, two of my daughters, who are about to be\nmarried\u2014Poppy, the youngest, to Prince Cornflower, and her sister, to\nthe celebrated Grimalkin of the Hills,\u201d said her Majesty, introducing\nthe members of the household. \u201cThose three ladies in purple, who are\nteasing that old gentleman with the crutch, are Gloze, Geneva, and\nMoss, the King\u2019s first cousins\u2014old maiden ladies who have never been\nmarried, and who delight in annoying the bachelors.\u201d\n\nPerhaps it was fortunate for poor Tottie Maybush that a great noise at\nthe other end of the gallery interrupted the Queen, otherwise she would\nprobably have been smothered by the warm-hearted beings presented to\nher. The commotion was caused by the arrival of several ambassadors\nfrom the vast realm of Nature. Here advanced the representative of the\nForest with stately dignity; then followed the Wind, whose tread shook\nthe roof of the ball-room; and after him came a long procession of\nbirds. The eagle headed one column, the wild turkey another, after\nwhich came parrots and plovers, quails, snipe, and magpies, while the\njolliest of them all\u2014the great kingfisher\u2014brought up the rear. Round\nand round the hall they trooped until the whole host found suitable\nperches among the thick foliage of the trees, where they gazed down in\nwonder upon the throng beneath.\n\nAmid a deep silence which had fallen upon the place the elfin King rose\nto his feet, and in a sharp, clear, piping tone, said, \u201cWe are all\nassembled; let the dance begin.\u201d\n\nSuddenly the throng of birds struck up a wild medley of song, whereupon\nthe fairies, bounding to their feet, began a fantastic dance around the\ngrotto. Such a quick, changing whirl of steps and leaps and varied\nmotions it would be difficult to conceive. Circles here, confusion\nthere, up and down in mazes, until, the feathered band piping higher\nand wilder, the eye was unable to follow the labyrinth of gay creatures\nin their mad career. \u201cThe witches at Benevento\u201d were as nothing\ncompared to the furious freaks and vagaries of the elves; but in the\nmidst of it all there was heard the booming of a bell, and\u2014like\nenchantment\u2014darkness and quiet fell upon the sylvan festivity in the\ntwinkling of an eye.\n\n\u201cTottie! Miss Tottie, do get up and come to bed!\u201d cried Jane. \u201cYour pa\nand ma have returned home!\u201d\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nELSIE.\n\n\nIf you were to search the whole of Australia you could not find a more\nbeautiful place than \u201cHawthorne,\u201d the residence of little Elsie Barton\nElsie\u2019s father was a merchant with plenty of money. He therefore\nerected a large house, a little way in the country, away from the dust\nand noise of the city. The building stood on a lofty hill, surrounded\nby trees and a lovely garden, with a broad river flowing down below\namong crags and thick foliage, and where the water seemed like a great\nmirror fixed in an emerald frame. Little Elsie loved music, and was\nalways ready every morning to begin her music lessons without being\nscolded and driven to them, as some disobedient and naughty girls and\nboys are. It was a bright morning, and Elsie raised up the window to\nadmit the fresh breeze and the sunshine, and then sat down to the\npiano. She had scarcely touched the keys, however, when she was\nstartled at hearing some one pronounce her name. The voice which Elsie\nheard calling her was not a gruff or a rough voice by any means,\nneither was it shrill or disagreeable in its tone; yet it was decidedly\nunlike any other voice she had ever heard before. It seemed more like\nthe tinkling of a tiny silver bell than anything else, save that the\nutterance was clear and decided, and sent a thrill, half of fear, half\nof surprise, through the frame of the listener.\n\n\u201cElsie\u2014Elsie Barton!\u201d repeated the voice.\n\nElsie turned about quickly, and stood amazed to observe upon the\ntoilet-table near the window the tiniest and most grotesque creature in\nthe world. The form was that of an old woman. Such a wee, graceful old\nlady, with a lithe, slight figure, no higher than the bottle of perfume\nnear her. She was attired in a purple robe, green baize shoes, and a\nshining cloak of the same colour, with a hood attached, but which she\nhad thrown back, disclosing her yellow hair. She supported herself with\na crutch stick, about the size of a wax match.\n\n\u201cWell, my dear, you are no doubt astonished at seeing me?\u201d said the old\nlady, leaning on her staff, and looking at Elsie with a smile. \u201cPray\ntake out those horrid long spikes you call pins from the pincushion,\nand I will sit down and rest myself, for I am really tired.\u201d\n\nThere was nothing at all repulsive in the manner or the aspect of this\nstrange visitor. So little Elsie, overcoming her wonder and amazement,\nprepared the pincushion and seated the old lady thereon, then inquired\nin a respectful tone how she came into the room.\n\n\u201cThrough the window, of course, my dear,\u201d answered the creature,\nsmiling. \u201cWe fairies come and go at divers times and seasons, and\nexactly how and when we please.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you a fairy\u2014a real fairy?\u201d cried Elsie, approaching and gazing\nwith deep interest on the little lady before her.\n\n\u201cCertainly, child. Couldn\u2019t you see that? We Australian elves are not\nso tall as our kindred over the ocean, but we are fairies\nnotwithstanding.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2014I have read of the fairies,\u201d said Elsie shyly, \u201cbut I have never\nseen any of them before.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, my dear, it\u2019s a great favour for any mortal to see us. It is only\ngood children who have the privilege. Do you know why I came here this\nmorning?\u201d said the old lady, fanning herself with a rose-leaf.\n\n\u201cNo. Pray tell me.\u201d\n\n\u201cA poor little boy, who has been dreadfully hurt, and who lives in the\nlittle hut near the quarry, sent me to you,\u201d replied the fairy.\n\n\u201cIs it little Harry, the widow\u2019s boy?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe same, my dear.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will go this moment,\u201d she replied; and running down the stairs,\nElsie took her sun-bonnet from the rack in the hall, and joined the\nelfin in the garden. Without speaking another word the fairy led the\nway down the hill, and away along the sunny banks of the river, and\nonward to a secluded dell, where Nature had exhausted the skill of\nsimplicity. The earth undulating into tiny hillocks, was clothed with a\ntender verdure as soft and green as moss. The deep blue waters rolled\nby with a hushed ripple, that was more soothing than silence, and a\nblueness that rivalled the deep azure of the skies. On one side rose\ngreat masses of rugged rocks, and these and all the trees around were\ndraped with great masses of clematis. From the roots of these there\ncrept along the ground the beautiful vines of the purple sarsaparilla,\nand the grass all around was gemmed with wild violets and the blossoms\nof a delicately pencilled little wild orchid. The scent of the clematis\nmade the air heavy with perfume, and the song of birds came with added\nmusic from the other side of the stream.\n\nIn this pleasant spot were gathered together a troop of elves\u2014little,\ntransparent people, dressed in scarlet, and blue, and amber, others in\nwhite, shining robes, and with green jewels and wreaths decking their\ngolden curls.\n\nElsie Barton stood spellbound with amazement at the wonderful sight\nbefore her. Many a time she had strolled through the lovely dell\npreviously, but she had never met either fay or sprite. While she stood\nwith mouth agape, the old lady fairy whispered in her ear and led the\nchild away out of the glen and over the river, where the blue smoke\nfrom the cottage wherein lay the sick boy could be seen ascending in a\nthin, spiral column up toward heaven, as if bridging the void between\nthe suffering child and the ministering angels of God.\n\nWithin sight of the hut, the fairy halted, and seating herself upon a\nmushroom, said in a sweet, piping tone: \u201cI cannot venture farther,\nElsie. We elves are but the emblem of good thoughts and benevolent\ndeeds. Whoever thinks least of self can see us palpably everywhere,\nbecause we are beneficence personified. Wherever there may be an act of\nkindness to be done, we seek out the kindly disposed to do it; but it\nis death to us to look upon any other mortals, save the humane and\nkindly hearted. Bend down, my dear, so that I may kiss you. Now,\ngood-bye,\u201d and the tiny lady vanished in a moment.\n\nIt was a very rude dwelling built of slabs, and almost devoid of\nfurniture, and little Elsie Barton\u2019s eyes filled with tears as she\nentered it and beheld on a bed, in one corner of the room, a boy about\nher own age, lying pale and ill. The poor lad had been obliged to work\nin a quarry, to help his widowed mother and his two little brothers,\nand a large stone had fallen down and had crushed one of his legs\ndreadfully. The brave child was sinking fast for want of generous diet\nand such nourishment as the widow was unable to procure for him, and so\nthe fairy had brought kind-hearted little Elsie Barton to visit him;\nand Elsie helped the widow to make the sick-room more light and cosy,\nthen went home and told her mother about the sick boy; and Mrs. Barton,\nafter filling a basket with nice food, returned with Elsie to the\ncottage.\n\nAnd every day for weeks Elsie Barton carried her basket of flowers and\nfruit, and choice morsels of dainty food for the little sufferer, until\nthe lad grew well and strong again; and sometimes, sitting in the small\ncountry church on Sundays, the quarry boy sees her in the family pew\nlistening with upturned face to the preacher, while through the stained\nwindows gleam broad bars of rich and gorgeous light, which float about\nher as a gossamer, and surround the gentle face as with a glory tint.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE WISHING-CAP.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nA fair-haired, freckled boy was Johnny Grudge. He was the grandson of\nold Grudge the wood-carter, who occupied a hut on a Government grant\nsome few miles out of Sydney. Johnny\u2019s father and mother were both dead\nand buried, therefore the boy lived with his grandfather, and assisted\nthe old man in his business.\n\nAs our hero journeyed to the market with his wood, he often met young\nMaster Woolcrop riding by on his milk-white pony, with a tall groom\nfollowing on a fine charger, standing I don\u2019t know how many hands high;\nand I am sorry to say our little hero grew very envious; for, be it\nknown, young Woolcrop\u2019s father was one of the richest men in New South\nWales, while Johnny\u2019s grandfather had not enough cash to purchase a set\nof harness for the old mare.\n\n\u201cWhy was I not born to have a white pony and a servant following me?\u201d\ngrumbled the youth, lashing the bushes with his whip in a savage way.\n\u201cI\u2019m quite as good as he is, and bigger and stronger. Who is he to ride\nwhile I have to walk in the dust and heat? Ah, I wish\u2014but what\u2019s the\nuse of wishing, I should like to know? I\u2019m always wishing for something\nor other, and I never get what I wish for. Now if I could only come\nacross the elves that grandad talks about, I\u2019d ask them for a\nwishing-cap. Then I could have all I want.\u201d And there Johnny paused and\nfell into a reverie, which lasted until he reached the wood market with\nhis team.\n\nOften during the long winter nights the old wood-cutter had talked to\nhis grandson of the fairies, the good little people, light as the\nthistledown, and beautiful as innocence, dwelling in the bell flowers,\ndrinking the dew for nectar, and happy, ay, as happy as the moonlight\nnight was long. Not far from the hut there were several mossy ridges\nwhere, it was said, the elves danced at night and made merry.\n\nThe boy had wished to see them. How high were they? About as tall as a\nsugar-stick? Why, he had an idea that it would be quite easy to capture\na whole army of them, and take them home as securely as blackfish out\nof the creek.\n\nReturning home, Johnny again met the son of Sir Anthony Woolcrop with a\nlittle lady by his side, mounted on a cream-coloured pony. And the\nlittle wood-carter agreed within himself that it was a shame, and\nresolved to seek out the fairies that very night.\n\nSo, in not the very best of tempers, and the very lowest of spirits,\nour hero went out to the moss ridges to seek the wishing-cap. He lay\ndown on the soft green carpet, and kept very quiet until he heard the\ngreat clock at the post-office boom twelve; then he heard a rustic and\na bustle, and voices\u2014not so loud as the buzz of a blue-bottle, and\nlaughter scarcely so distinct as the chirp-chirp of a canary; but he\nknew it was the elves, and his heart went thump! thump!\n\nPresently he ventured to look round him. The moon was shining\u2014as it\nonly can shine in Australia\u2014and by its light he saw the gayest company\nof miniature beings you can possibly imagine dancing merrily. Time\nwould fail to tell you how beautiful they all were, how gaily dressed,\nhow courteous to each other, and how graceful in every motion. Johnny\nrubbed his hands and fancied he was dreaming; he stretched out his hand\nand ran it into a lot of prickles, and that quite convinced him he was\nwide awake. The pain caused him to cry out, and instantly the ball\nbecame a rout. The fairies fled in great haste, some hiding themselves\nin the cracks and fissures of the ridges, some burying themselves under\nthe fallen leaves, all escaping save one, and he got his feet entangled\nin a large ant-hole, and could do nothing but wriggle and cry out.\n\nJohnny Grudge rose to his feet, and hastened to the rescue; yet when he\nbeheld the wee creature our hero stood quite still and did not attempt\nto help him.\n\n\u201cPray assist me out of this nasty hole; the ants are beginning to bite\nme,\u201d quoth the fairy.\n\n\u201cCertainly I will,\u201d cried Johnny; \u201cbut if I help you I want you to give\nme something in return.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat will you have?\u201d said the little fay. \u201cSpeak quickly, and get me\nout of this horrible web.\u201d\n\n\u201cI should like the wishing-cap,\u201d replied our hero boldly.\n\n\u201cThe wishing-cap? Silly boy! Why do you ask such a boon?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause I want to be as well off as young Bertie Woolcrop, who rides\non a white pony with a groom following him,\u201d answered Johnny.\n\n\u201cTush!\u201d responded the fairy. \u201cYou are much better as you are.\u201d\n\n\u201cAm I?\u201d said the boy in a gruff tone. \u201cIf you say that you know nothing\nabout it, and you may stop in that hole until the ants sting you to\ndeath, before I\u2019ll help you, now! Why should he have a pony, and a\nservant, and a little girl to ride with him and to keep him company,\nwhile I\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are a strong, healthy little boy, without a care,\u201d interrupted the\nentrapped elfin.\n\n\u201cI am worn with care and with hard work,\u201d answered the youngster. \u201cMy\ngrandfather is cross; the damper is tough, and not too much of it; my\nclothes are worn, and my boots are gaping at the toes; the old mare is\nlazy, and firewood cheap. Come, what will you do for me?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf I gave you the wishing-cap, what would you do?\u201d inquired the fay.\n\n\u201cI\u2019d change places with the boy who rides the white pony,\u201d he answered\nreadily.\n\n\u201cVery well. Be it so. Lift me out of the hole.\u201d\n\nWhen Johnny Grudge raised the elfin from his awkward position, the\ncreature commanded him to lie down on the moss and close his eyes. Our\nhero obeyed, and strange to relate, in a twinkling, the moonlight,\ngrassy dell, fairy, all faded away, and he was sleeping on a soft, rich\ncouch. He awoke with a start, and looked round him in surprise. The\ngrey light of the morning was stealing into the room, and he saw that\nthe apartment was handsomely furnished. A clock struck five.\n\nAt that moment the door opened, and a man in a striped jacket came in,\nand wished him \u201cGood-morning.\u201d He was rather astonished when the man\nlifted him out of bed, took off his night clothes, and plunged him into\na cold bath. It was in vain Johnny gasped, and spluttered, and\nprotested that he didn\u2019t like it, and was not used to it. The man only\nshook his head very gravely, and went on plunging him till he was\nsatisfied; then he rubbed him dry with a rough towel. After this he\nhelped him to dress, and poor little Grudge never had so much trouble\nbefore. It occupied nearly an hour, and when it was over there was a\ntap at the door, and a message to say that Mr. Cramwell was expecting\nMaster Bertrand in the study.\n\n\u201cWho is he?\u201d inquired Johnny.\n\n\u201cYour tutor, sir, of course.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat does he want with me?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo prepare you for the day\u2019s exercises,\u201d replied the servant, with a\nstare.\n\n\u201cOh! I can get exercise enough without him,\u201d cried the boy. \u201cJust you\ngive me a piece of fresh damper and some tea, and then I\u2019m off down to\nthe creek to look for the old mare.\u201d\n\nThe man in the striped jacket held up his hands in dismay. He assured\nour hero the thing was impossible, and without further parley led him\nout of the room and down a broad, winding, carpeted stair, on which\nbeautiful busts of ladies and gentlemen stood staring at him in wonder\nto see him there, and appearing as if they were about to call out to\nthe whole household and proclaim that he was only Johnny Grudge the\nwood-carter.\n\nDown at the bottom of the stairway there stood a very prim old lady in\ncap and apron, and looking as cold and stiff as the statues up above.\nOur hero, not altogether liking the severe look upon her face,\nattempted to push by in haste; but the dame bade the man return with\n\u201cMaster Bertie,\u201d and the mandate being obeyed, she turned upon the\nyouth, and inquired if he had left his manners behind him.\n\n\u201cSay, \u2018Good-morning, Aunt Dora,\u2019\u201d whispered the servant in his ear, and\nthe boy having complied, he was conducted into a chamber with more\nbooks in it than Johnny supposed could ever have been written or\nprinted in the world.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nThe tutor was a stern-looking gentleman in a suit of sombre tweed. He\nbade our hero, \u201cGood-morning,\u201d and then began to scold him for being\nlate; there were Latin, English, and mathematical exercises to be gone\nthrough, and they would occupy much time. With a failing heart Johnny\nGrudge took up his book and looked at the page. Strangely enough to\nhimself he could read it, and when Mr. Cramwell questioned him about it\nhe could repeat it; but it made his head ache, and he felt sick and\nweary.\n\n\u201cIf you please, may I have a little milk?\u201d he asked; \u201cor a little tea\nand jam\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly not,\u201d interrupted the tutor. \u201cIt is time, however, that you\ntook your tonic.\u201d\n\nIn answer to Mr. Cramwell\u2019s summons, the man in the striped jacket\nappeared with a wineglassful of\u2014oh, such nasty stuff! and Johnny was\nobliged to take it, every drop. Feeling very much the worse for his\ndraught, the poor boy went on with his lessons till half-past seven,\nwhen his tutor in a terrible, frigid manner said, \u201cMaster Bertrand, it\nis the hour for your constitutional promenade.\u201d\n\nJohnny Grudge at first thought he was going to have a dose of something\nmore nasty than had been given him before, but he soon learned that he\nwas to accompany his teacher for a stroll in the gardens, and for this\nhe was very glad; they were very beautiful\u2014such beds of flowers, round,\ndiamond, heart, and all sort of shapes, screened from the sun by grand,\ntall trees, whose leafy luxuriance formed natural groves where the\nbirds perched and sang, to the soft music of a large fountain which\nsplashed and flashed in millions of tiny jets.\n\nJohnny\u2019s first impulse was to dash off at a run when he found himself\nin the sunshine, but he was sharply rebuked by Mr. Cramwell for his\n\u201cunpardonable vulgarity,\u201d and forced to walk as solemnly as a mute at a\nfuneral.\n\nWhen the breakfast bell began to ring our little hero took courage at\nthe thoughts of the wonderfully nice things there would be to eat.\nVisions of cold wild-duck, ham, pie, eggs, salmon, and jam, flitted\nbefore him; but, alas! he was wofully mistaken. All these things and\nmore were on the table; but not for him. He had a bowl of bread and\nmilk and nothing else, on account of his weak digestion. After\nbreakfast there were more hard, dry lessons, accompanied by much severe\nrebuke, which made the time very dreary indeed. There was a French\nmaster, and a dancing master, and a fencing master, who hurt poor\nJohnny very much, because he couldn\u2019t keep his right elbow in a line\nwith his wrist during the exercise. Ere dinner-time came our hero\u2019s\nhead was ready to crack: it seemed to him to be made up of plates of\nred-hot iron welded together with boiling lead. Dinner! Only one\ndish\u2014roast mutton, a piece of stale bread and a glass of water! Oh, how\nthe young wood-cutter yearned for a slice of damper, mounted with a\nhunk of corned beef and an onion!\n\nAfter dinner came the music master, and several other masters, and\nafter that the white pony. But by this time Johnny was so sick and\ntired he begged hard that he might be allowed to go to bed. Mr.\nCramwell would not hear of it. So the boy mounted the white pony he had\ncoveted, saw a little girl, as weary as himself, on a cream-coloured\npony, was escorted by the tall groom in livery astride a high steed,\nand felt most miserable.\n\nAs the lad rode on the highway where he was wont to journey with the\nold mare and dray, he saw his own very self, whistling and cracking his\nwhip, and looking as happy as ever boy looked who had the sense to be\ncontented with health and strength. What would he not have given to\njump oft the pony\u2019s back and be himself again! Oh, but he couldn\u2019t do\nthat! He had longed for the \u201cwishing-cap,\u201d and now he had it he must\nwear it!\n\nAs he rode onward he began to grumble and mutter as he had done before:\n\u201cWhy should I be shut up in a big house, and made to do this, that, and\nthe other? Oh, I wish\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\nHe was going to wish that he was at home again with his grandfather;\nbut he held his peace, and rode on with the little lady.\n\nReturning to the mansion he was ushered into a state-room, where a lot\nof gentlemen in white waistcoats were eating fruit and drinking wine.\n\nHe had to stop there for about half an hour without speaking a word,\nand was regaled with one small bunch of grapes. At the end of that time\nhe was taken away by the tutor, in whose presence he partook of a cup\nof milk and water with a piece of dry toast. Then he was sent to bed,\nas miserable as a bandicoot. In his sleep the fairy came to him once\nmore.\n\n\u201cMortal child,\u201d he cried in his ears, \u201care you satisfied with the\nchange in your life?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no, good fairy,\u201d replied the sleeper faintly. \u201cTake back the\nwishing-cap\u2014let me be my own self again. Do, do!\u201d\n\n\u201cReflect, Johnny Grudge. You will have to work again, and wear poor\nclothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t mind that now,\u201d replied Johnny.\n\n\u201cAnd drive the old mare to market in the heat and dust,\u201d continued the\nelfin.\n\n\u201cSend me back to grandfather and the old mare,\u201d he cried pleadingly,\n\u201cand you shall see I will never grumble again.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you sure?\u201d\n\n\u201cPlease try me, good fay.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what about the white pony?\u201d\n\n\u201cBother the pony! I don\u2019t want it.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the tall groom?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is a cruel fellow, and I never want to see him again, nor Mr.\nCramwell either. Let me be myself again, dear fay! dear, kind fairy!\nPray take me home again to good old grandad,\u201d and the poor dreamer\nbegan to sob in his sleep.\n\n\u201cEnough,\u201d responded the wee spirit in a kind tone. \u201cThe wishing-cap I\nwill take again, and you shall return to your home and to your daily\ntoil. Yet remember, boy, you shall resume your place here the moment\nyou begin to grow dissatisfied. Let this lesson cure you of envy.\nPeople who ride white ponies, the same as those who ride in carriages,\nare no more exempt from care, toil, denial, and suffering than\nyourself. Learn contentment. It is a rare jewel, and better than fine\nclothing and white ponies. Ta-ta, Johnny.\u201d\n\nPoor little envious boy! The bitter disappointment he felt at finding\nout the truth of the old adage, \u201cAll that glitters is not gold,\u201d was\nvery keen in his heart. Yet the lesson had done him good, by showing\nhim that we should be very miserable if we only had everything we\nwished for.\n\nWhen the boy woke he found himself in his own poor crib within the hut;\nbut Johnny felt very glad he was there. He rather surprised his\ngrandfather by the willing manner in which he began to prepare for\nbreakfast. And then he started off to look for the old mare. How\nlight-hearted and free he felt, as he bounded away, a hop, skip, and a\njump over the dewy grass, where the sun\u2019s beams glinted as on a sea of\ngems!\n\nThe old horse felt amazed at the way Johnny caressed her and rubbed his\ncheek athwart her Roman nose. And indeed the boy felt as much amazed as\nany of them, and vowed to himself never to be discontented again; and\nJohnny Grudge kept his word.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTWO GIANTS.\n\n\nThe Blue Mountains of our neighbour New South Wales, are, it has been\nsaid, the metropolis of Elfland. On those grand cliffs are caves where\ngrim giants lie in wait ready to be summoned by the fathers and mothers\nof naughty, disobedient children. Away down in the cool dells the\nfairies hold their councils and their balls, and many a merry frolic\nhave they when the ghosts are asleep and snoring.\n\nI am going to tell you about giants in this story\u2014about two giants, one\ncalled Fog, and the other named Duty, and when the tale is finished,\nyou shall tell me which of the giants you like best.\n\nIn one of the most lonesome valleys among the mountains lived Harry\nPodder, a little boy whose father was a poor selector. The selector,\nhis wife, and their only child, were quite alone in their solitude; the\ndell which they occupied was shut in by high, rugged cliffs, upon whose\nsteep sides grew dwarfed gum-trees, whose outstretched limbs appeared\nlike the expanded wings of gigantic birds of prey, ready to swoop down\nupon the frail bark-dwelling beneath. Wild, weird, and fantastic was\nthe scene. Here there was no school for Harry to go to, nor neighbours\u2019\nchildren for him to play with. The mother would take him out among the\npeaks and turrets, and teach him from the open page of Nature around\nthem, until the mind of the lad became almost as strange and wild as\nhis surroundings.\n\nMany a wondrous tale did the fond parent invent as to what the torrent\ncried in its rushing, headlong course down the mountain side; and what\nthe trees said, as they bent and whispered one to the other in the\nbreeze; and where the clouds were going, and why the thick mists came\nto kill the flowers and enfold the highest spurs as with a winding\nsheet. Thus they were a poor but a very happy family.\n\nBut a dreadful winter came, which laid the selector on a bed of\nsickness, and he was very ill indeed. \u201cHarry, my little son,\u201d said his\nmother, \u201cyou must go to Ridgeford for the doctor.\u201d\n\nRidgeford, the nearest township, was four miles distant, over a rough\ntrack across the hills, where lived the only medical man on the range.\nThe boy hung his head, and she had to repeat her injunction.\n\n\u201cRidgeford, mother! I can\u2019t go. I\u2019m afraid.\u201d\n\n\u201cAfraid, Harry? Afraid of what?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf the giants, mother.\u201d\n\n\u201cGiants, boy? Why, there are no such beings as giants.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, mother, but there is. Did you not show me the Giant Fog, that\nhaunts our valley? Why, you and I have watched him take all kind of\nshapes to hide the sheep from us. He it was who led father into the\nriver, and caused poor old \u2018Possum\u2019 here to fall from the cliff.\u201d\n\n\u201cPossum\u201d was a large kangaroo hound, who looked up into his young\nmaster\u2019s face as his name was mentioned, and then began to frisk about\nhim.\n\nThe mother appeared puzzled for a moment, and then said quietly,\u2014\n\n\u201cYes, I remember Giant Fog; but, Harry, I know a giant far more\npowerful than he. Go to the settlement for the doctor, and I will give\nyou a letter to my giant, and he will surely help you even if Fog were\nto meet you on the way.\u201d\n\nSo the mother took a sheet of paper and printed on it in large letters\nsuch as Harry could read, \u201cDuty.\u201d\n\nThen she wrapped up the boy as warmly as she could, gave him a note for\nthe doctor, and pinned the message to her giant on his breast. That\ndone, she called \u201cPossum,\u201d the kangaroo hound, and bade him accompany\nhis master.\n\nLittle Harry and the dog started off on their errand, while the woman\nattended to her sick husband. Towards afternoon a thick fog settled on\nthe mountains, and the mother was heard to mutter, \u201cGiant Fog will\novertake my poor child, I fear.\u201d\n\nMany times did she go to the windows and look forth in the hope of\nseeing him and his faithful companion descending the cliff, but each\ntime she was disappointed.\n\nAnd where was our hero all this time? Such a road as that poor boy had\nto travel few little boys have ever seen, much less had to traverse\nalone.\n\nHarry thought little of the road; he walked along bravely, quite proud\nof his journey, and, above all, his message to the Giant Duty. As he\nand Possum climbed the hill-side and looked down on many a rugged\nslope, he almost laughed and said, \u201cI wonder if there are really such\nthings as giants in the mountains after all?\u201d\n\nArrived at the township the boy gave the letter to the doctor, who\nordered some dinner for Harry, then started him and the dog homeward.\n\n\u201cI hope Giant Fog won\u2019t catch us here, Possum,\u201d cried the youngster, as\nhe mounted the steep crags above Ridgeford in safety. But the words\nwere hardly out of his mouth when both he and the dog were enveloped in\na deep mist, whirling and eddying round, till the child was quite giddy\nand terrified. He put his hand to his breast, pressed the talisman his\nmother had given him, and cried out, \u201cDuty!\u201d Strange, Giant Fog seemed\nto clear out of the way for a moment, and they stumbled onward down the\ncrest of the mountain; but it soon became evident to Harry that all\nshadow of the path was lost. Still the brave boy pursued his way, and\nwhen his spirits flagged and the dog whined he cried out, \u201cDuty,\nPossum, Duty!\u201d\n\nAt length they emerged out upon a ledge of ridges with deep ravines\nintervening. Below the fog looked inky black.\n\nOur hero paused, and Possum rubbed himself against him and looked up\nwhimpering in his face. \u201cNever mind, old boy,\u201d said Harry. \u201cEven if\nthis is the very castle of Giant Fog, we have Duty with us. On, Possum,\non.\u201d\n\nThe kangaroo hound drew back. The boy pressed forward, and in a moment\nhe felt he was falling rapidly through the air.\n\nHow long poor Harry lay at the base of those cruel crags he could not\nsay, but when he recovered consciousness the dog\u2019s cold nose was\nagainst his cheek. When he attempted to rise from the ground he found\none of his little arms hung useless at his side and sharp pains darted\nthrough every limb. The tears started to his eyes, for he was but a\nlittle fellow.\n\n\u201cGiant Fog has done us a bad turn, Possum; yet Giant Duty will help us\nall right,\u201d he muttered, and fell back with a groan of pain.\n\nThe dark night fell o\u2019er the mountains. Patiently the mother waited and\nwatched for the return of her son. In her anxiety she was about to\nissue forth in quest of him when the doctor made his appearance.\n\n\u201cWhere is Harry?\u201d he inquired eagerly.\n\n\u201cNot come back yet.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I made all haste to overtake him, but the fog is so thick I have\nmissed him on the way.\u201d\n\nWhile they were talking Possum dashed into the house, and without more\nado began to tug at the dress of the woman with might and main, and\nwith whines and barkings asked as plain as dog could ask for them to\nfollow him.\n\nThe woman understood the mute appeal. Accompanied by the doctor they\nhastened after Possum, who led them over spurs and ridges to where lay\nhis insensible boy-master.\n\nTenderly did the kind doctor lift the exhausted child, skilfully did he\ntreat him, and faithfully did the mother nurse and tend him; but for\nweeks it was doubtful who was to have the victory\u2014the good or the bad\ngiant.\n\nBut at last one day Harry opened his eyes and said, \u201cMother, I hope the\ndoctor came and made father well again?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, my darling, the doctor has cured father.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m so glad, mother. Giant Fog was very cruel, but Giant Duty brought\nme home to you in spite of him; so if the doctor has made father well,\nit\u2019s all right. Ah! Possum. Here, Possum, old boy!\u201d\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nMOTHLAND.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nTake your places. Turn down the lights. We are going to open our magic\nlantern once more. Ho Presto! Here we are in Victoria.\n\nPicture to yourself a plainly furnished room in a farmhouse on the\nbanks of the Murray River. Besides the ordinary tables, chairs,\npictures, and other things you will observe a clock on the mantel-shelf\nover the fireplace. Now this clock is going to form the pivot upon\nwhich our story turns.\n\nThe door of this apartment was gently opened, and two children\u2014a boy\nand a girl\u2014entered. They had just stolen away unknown to the nurse, and\nhad come here to amuse themselves. There was, however, very little in\nthat room to amuse them. Neither hoop nor ball nor doll was here; but\nthere was the clock ticking away like a cricket who had lost its\nmother. They say that curiosity is much stronger in the female, be it\nchild or adult, than in the male portion of humanity, so the little\ngirl drew a chair to the fireplace, and on the top of it she placed a\nstool, and then both the children mounted and stood face to face with\nthe clock.\n\nThey examined the polished wooden case, and the marble base, the\nfigures and the painted scroll work which adorned its face, then the\nminute-hand which they could see moving, and listened to the \u201cTick,\ntick, tick,\u201d which seemed to come from some voice within it.\n\u201cTick-tick,\u201d cried the clock, and still as the little boy looked and\nlistened it went on without stopping, \u201cTick, tick, tick.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat can it be?\u201d said the little girl. \u201cWhere can the noise come from,\nTeddy?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh!\u201d answered Teddy, \u201cit comes from the wee fellow inside there; can\u2019t\nyou see him moving his arm about, eh, Lily?\u201d\n\nLily looked and discovered a door. \u201cIt comes from here,\u201d she said. \u201cI\nshould like to open it and let the old man out.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no,\u201d cried Teddy, \u201cwe must not. Papa would be angry. Come away\nback again to nurse.\u201d But Lily poked about with her fingers,\nunknowingly touched a spring, and the door flew open.\n\nThere they saw a wonderful sight. There were wheels moving round and\nround, and the inside shone like gold, and there was a long piece of\nsteel hanging down like a tail, which moved from side to side, and the\ntimepiece said louder than ever, \u201cTick, tick, tick.\u201d\n\nLily put in her finger and touched the golden inside, and still the\nclock ticked on. Then she touched the pendulum, and though the clock\npaused for a moment as if to take breath, it went on again fresher than\never, \u201cTick, tick, tick.\u201d\n\nBut at last she happened to poke her finger between the spokes of the\nlittle wheel, and the timepiece stopped. Lily thought it would tick\nagain in a minute, but she was disappointed. She touched the pendulum,\nshe touched the wheel, she touched every part; yet all to no purpose.\nAnd then the boy, Teddy, tried his hand in vain. The clock wouldn\u2019t say\n\u201cTick, tick\u201d any more.\n\nWhat was to be done?\n\nThey were very much frightened. They closed the clock door as quickly\nas possible, got down from the chair, put the things all tidy, and left\nthe room.\n\nNothing more occurred till breakfast-time next morning, when the father\ncalled out suddenly, \u201cWhy, the clock has stopped!\u201d and when he examined\nit he found the mainspring was broken.\n\n\u201cSomebody has been playing with the clock. Did you touch it, Teddy?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I never,\u201d answered the boy.\n\n\u201cWas it you, Lily?\u201d\n\nNow, Lily was not in the habit of being untruthful; but she was\nfrightened and replied, \u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cOne of you must have done it yesterday. Jane saw you coming out of the\nroom,\u201d continued the father.\n\nBy dint of questioning, Lily and Teddy at length acknowledged they had\nbeen in the room, and then the boy said Lily had touched the timepiece,\nand then the girl said so had Teddy; but which of them it was that had\nreally broken the spring their father could not discover.\n\n\u201cVery well, my children,\u201d he said. \u201cIf you will not tell me who broke\nthe clock, you will be punished some day.\u201d And the father spoke truly.\n\nIn that part of the Murray district where Lily and Teddy lived there\ndwelt a small native race of people called \u201cMoths.\u201d This diminutive\ntribe lived alone by themselves in a grand shaded valley by the\nriver-bank. They used to be seen very often by the settlers and bushmen\nriding home late on moonlight nights. Indeed, many travellers had\nstated they had seen them dancing on the green, making merry, courting,\nlaughing, etc., while others vouched to having spoken to the creatures.\nBe that as it may, the Moths were there in the valley by the river, and\nhad been there long before Teddy and Lily\u2019s grandfather first took up\nthe splendid selection adjacent.\n\nThe wee people had taken an interest in the fortunes of the different\nfamilies round about for many years, always patronising and favouring\ngood boys and girls, and always punishing the bad ones in some form or\nother.\n\nJust below the bush paddock where the valley dips down to the water\ncould be seen a circle of emerald green, on which the Moths assembled\nevery night when the moon shone. It was not often crossed by the feet\nof mortals; but any one passing that way by daylight might observe\nsmall round rings here and there, much greener than the grass around.\nThese were Moth circles.\n\nHere the Moths sat in little circles on raised benches made of grass\nblades, whilst others danced before them in the middle of the ring to\nmusic played on flutes made from the backbones of locusts.\n\nOn the night after the clock had been broken the Moths met to hold a\ngreat council. The whole race assembled on this occasion. There was the\nKing wearing a golden crown of flowers, and the Queen decked with\ndiamonds of dew, and all the Princes and Princesses in robes of mingled\ngreen and blue. When the council were assembled the monarch spoke thus:\n\n\u201cPeople of Mothland, you all know what an interest we take in the\nfamily near our valley, and especially in little Lily and Teddy. Now I\ngrieve to tell you these children have been very naughty. Indeed, one\nof them has told a deliberate falsehood, a sin we hate and abhor beyond\nall things. The boy is not so guilty as his sister; it was not he,\ncertainly, who spoilt the clock, but still he went up on the chair and\nlooked at it; and he ought to have told this like a brave boy, instead\nof holding his tongue like a coward. But Lily has told a decided lie,\nand she must be punished. What shall we do to her?\u201d\n\n\u201cCarry her away from her home, and put Scarlet Mantle in her place,\u201d\nsaid the Queen of the Moths.\n\n\u201cIt shall be done,\u201d replied the King.\n\nThat night when Lily was sleeping soundly in her soft, pleasant bed,\nthe King of the Moths, accompanied by some of the strongest men in his\ntribe, carried her away into the valley of Mothland, and they\nsubstituted Scarlet Mantle in her stead.\n\nJane, the nurse, took her accustomed peep into the child\u2019s bedroom, ere\nretiring for the night, and was somewhat astonished to observe that her\ncharge appeared thinner and smaller and sharper than usual.\n\n\u201cI suppose it\u2019s only my fancy,\u201d cried the girl, so, kissing the\nsupposed child, she went her way, and left the Moth snugly coiled in\nlittle Lily\u2019s bed.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nThe morning following the night on which the Moths took Lily away\ndawned brightly. The farmer and his wife fancied somehow that their\nlittle girl looked rather pale and thin; the mother thought poor Lily\nwas ill; the father thought she was sorry for saying she didn\u2019t break\nthe clock. But the Moths are very clever people, and of course had\ncontrived to make Scarlet Mantle look as like Lily as possible. So she\ntook up the child\u2019s place in the house, and ate bread and butter,\npudding, lollies, wore the girl\u2019s new clothes, and was much happier\nthan she had ever been in Mothland. One or two little things Scarlet\nMantle could not entirely forget; still, on the whole, she managed to\nconduct herself as a civilised human child should.\n\nBut where was Lily? She was away in the dells with the Moths, and very\nunhappy. Firstly, she was very tired; secondly, she was hungry; and\nthirdly, she was made ridiculous. These things were most tantalising,\nand she was ready to cry her eyes out. No wonder she was tired, because\ninstead of going to bed at seven o\u2019clock, and sleeping soundly every\nnight, she had to go out on the circles and dance till the moon set.\nShe was cold, too, for in place of her warm frocks she had nothing in\nthe world but Scarlet Mantle\u2019s old clothes, made of rose-leaves and\ngossamer. She might well be hungry also, for the Moths gave her nothing\nbut dew and locusts for food. Still there was one thing more dreadful\nthan all these put together. For some reason or other Lily\u2019s tongue had\nbegun to grow very long.\n\nYes, it was not painful, but exceedingly ugly, as you may imagine.\nLittle by little it increased and grew longer, until she was obliged to\ntie it round her neck to keep it out of her way, and the Moths were\nalways laughing about it, which made our little girl very melancholy.\n\nThe Queen of the Moths was a very motherly person, and Lily soon made\nfriends with her.\n\n\u201cYour Majesty,\u201d she said one day, \u201cI am very miserable. Indeed, I think\nI shall die if I am kept here much longer.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is amiss, my child?\u201d inquired the Queen.\n\n\u201cWhy am I detained here?\u201d replied Lily. \u201cAnd why have I so little to\neat and drink?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear child, you know the reason,\u201d answered the Queen. \u201cYou told a\nwicked falsehood, and you are paying the penalty for it now.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! your Majesty, it wouldn\u2019t be so bad if I could only get rid of my\nlong tongue,\u201d pleaded Lily. \u201cDear Queen, please can\u2019t you rid me of my\nugly tongue?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, child, I cannot, but you can rid yourself of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow? Oh, please tell me.\u201d\n\nThe Queen of the Moths sighed.\n\n\u201cThere is only one way,\u201d she answered. \u201cYour tongue is disfigured,\nbecause it hath offended. If you wish to get rid of it, you must\nacknowledge your fault and confess the lie you told.\u201d\n\nPoor Lily! Like many other children of a larger growth, she was\nstubborn, and did not like this plan of getting rid of her trouble.\nAnything rather than saying: \u201cI broke the clock.\u201d\n\nSo the child went on among the Moths, suffering cold and hunger,\nmidnight dancing, and the big tongue.\n\nBut little Lily loved her father and mother, and did not like to be\naway from them for ever. She began to steal away from the valley, and\ngo to her own home. Often she stood looking in at the window, and saw\nher father and mother and Teddy sitting with Scarlet Mantle; and the\ntears would start to her eyes, and run down her cheeks, and she would\ncry out in her grief, \u201cOh! I do so wish I was sitting on my own stool\nagain.\u201d\n\nOne night she was standing by the window particularly unhappy, and in a\nvery penitent mood. Had she but the opportunity, she determined to\nconfess her fault. There sat her father in the full flare of the lamp,\nthinking he had Lily by his side. There was Teddy with his toys, and\nwhile the little outcast was gazing, Jane, the nurse, entered with the\ntea-tray; cups and saucers began to rattle, and her brother and Scarlet\nMantle gathered round the table. Oh, to be shut out from all this\ncomfort, and the smiles and caresses of her parents! At length,\nsomething led her father to rise from his seat and look out into the\ndarkness beyond. He opened the window and stepped out upon the\nverandah. In a moment a tiny hand was thrust into his own, and a timid,\nhesitating voice was heard to say,\u2014\n\n\u201cI\u2014I am\u2014so\u2014sorry. I\u2014broke\u2014the clock.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou! Who are you?\u201d cried the father in astonishment.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m Lily, father,\u201d she cried out, with a great sob.\n\n\u201cLily! Why, Lily is in the dining-room with mamma.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; I am Lily, your own naughty little girl, and\u2014I broke the clock.\nThere!\u201d she sobbed aloud. \u201cThe Moths took me away because I told you a\nfalsehood, and they only gave me old faded rose-leaves to wear, and the\nlegs of locusts to eat, and made me drink dew out of the cups of the\nflowers; and see what a great, long, ugly tongue they have given me for\ntelling that story.\u201d\n\nThe trilling voice sounded very remorseful, and the little hand clung\nnervously to the father, who immediately led the little one into the\ndining-room.\n\nThe first thing on which the eyes of the man rested was the vacant seat\nof Scarlet Mantle.\n\n\u201cHallo! Where\u2019s the other one?\u201d he cried.\n\n\u201cThe other one?\u201d repeated his wife. \u201cWhat other one, dear?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe\u2014the child, Lily,\u201d replied the astonished pater.\n\nThe good woman laughed, and answered, \u201cThere she is, at your side,\u201d\n\n\u201cNonsense; this little lady says she has just come from Mothland, and\nthat she is our Lily whom the Moths stole because she told a falsehood\nover the breaking of the clock. Surely there aren\u2019t two Lilys?\u201d and the\nfarmer looked beneath the sofa, under the table, and even up the\nchimney; but Scarlet Mantle, the moment she saw Lily enter the room,\nvanished through the window, and of course was not to be found.\n\n\u201cWell, this is a queer go, wife.\u201d\n\n\u201cMost extraordinary,\u201d responded the mother, gazing with a doubtful look\nupon the real Lily, who stood quietly looking from one to the other.\n\n\u201cOh, this is Sis,\u201d exclaimed Teddy. \u201cThere\u2019s the bump on the nose which\nI made with my ball last week. You\u2019re Lily, who smashed the clock,\naren\u2019t you?\u201d he asked, looking up in her face.\n\n\u201cIndeed, Teddy dear, I\u2019m your little sister, and it was I who broke the\nclock, and the Moths took me away, and gave me this big, frightful\ntongue, because I said I didn\u2019t. You see here\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\nAnd she put up her hand to her mouth, but lo! the ugly member had\nvanished. How glad she felt that it was gone! The mere effort to do\nright had brought its own reward. And as she repeated again, more\nearnestly, \u201cI broke the clock, and I want you to forgive me,\u201d her\nfather saw she was really his own little girl, and giving her a hearty\nkiss of forgiveness, seated her in her own accustomed place at table,\nand they were very happy once more.\n\nThat night Lily slept soundly in her own room, in her own cosy bed, and\nshe thought it much better than dancing till she was tired round the\nMoth circles by the river-bank.\n\nAnd so thought the Scarlet Mantle!\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nMOONLAND.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nSome of our relatives on the other side of the globe will be astonished\nto learn that the way to the Moon has been discovered by an unfortunate\nmember of the literati of Australia.\n\nThe greatest thinkers of the day have scouted the idea as nothing but\nmoonshine, when spoken to about the practicability of the discovery.\nBut it must be borne in mind that the same laws of Nature which guide\nand rule the Mother Country are somewhat erratic here at the Antipodes,\ninasmuch as we are all upside down\u2014standing on our heads, in fact.\nTherefore we are prepared for marvels. In a land where there are\nanimals who stand on their tails, and fight with all four feet at once;\nwhere the young leap out of and into their parents\u2019 stomachs at\nwill\u2014there being a strange bag in that quarter for the purpose of\nhumouring the antics of the juveniles, just like the hole in the bow of\na timber ship; where there are creatures that appear neither flesh nor\nfowl\u2014who swim in ponds like a duck, have a duck\u2019s bill, who lay eggs,\nyet have feet and hair like a beast; in a land where the leaves on the\ntrees grow edgeways to the sun, and the trees themselves shoot\ndownwards, surely it is no great wonder that we have found a passage to\nthe great luminary of night, and had the pleasure of shaking hands and\nlikewise supping with the disobedient man who gathered sticks on\nSunday.\n\nThe scientific world will never feel half the surprise anent our new\ndiscovery as that which fell upon the old shepherd when he found\nhimself surrounded and made a prisoner. He had left his sheep in charge\nof the only companion he had in these regions\u2014viz., his dog. Within a\nsheltered nook on one of the fairest and most luxuriant slopes of the\nmysterious Blue Mountains, Patch, the half-bred dingo, held watch and\nward over his charge while his master wandered down the rugged side of\nthe cliff in search of gold. Here the sun was almost hid behind the\nbroad awning of gigantic trees, whose immense trunks, gnarled and hoary\nwith age, stood like mammoth sentinels to guard the dim glen below. The\nlonely herdsman had often descended to that spot before unmolested, but\nnow from every mound and hollow there peered the grotesque faces of the\nMountain Sprites, watching his every movement, until with a sudden rush\nthey pounced upon him and held him fast. For a time he struggled\nmanfully to free himself. It was quite useless. The genii of the Blue\nMountains are a powerful people, not to be trifled with, as the\nshepherd soon discovered. He was lifted bodily up, and borne along so\nswiftly that he nearly lost his senses. The route of his captors lay in\na downward direction\u2014never upward. And it appeared as if the dusky\nravines which they traversed led right away from the upper world into\nthe region of eternal night.\n\n\u201cDear friends, good people, where are you taking me?\u201d cried the poor\nfellow in an affrighted tone.\n\n\u201cBis, bus, silence, mortal!\u201d replied an ancient gnome authoritatively.\n\u201cYour destination is not on the Earth, but the Moon.\u201d\n\n\u201cGood gracious!\u201d ejaculated the poor shepherd, with starting eyeballs.\n\n\u201cBus, peace,\u201d rejoined the brownie in a whisper. \u201cThe voice of man hath\nnever disturbed these solitudes since the creation.\u201d\n\n\u201cGentlemen, pray let me go!\u201d\n\n\u201cArt thou not going, thou dissatisfied mortal? Be silent.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is all up with me,\u201d groaned the unfortunate captive.\n\n\u201cNay, verily, it will be all down with thee,\u201d answered the sprite.\n\u201cBehold!\u201d\n\nAs the fairy spoke they emerged into a dismal spot, in the midst of\nwhich gaped a wide, black pit; at the mouth of the chasm the shepherd\nbeheld the forms of two beings in shape like the fabled vampires, who\nclapped their tremendous wings in ecstasy at sight of him.\n\n\u201cWho is this?\u201d they cried.\n\nAnd the fairies answered, \u201cA visitor for Moonland.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no, I\u2019m not going to the Moon,\u201d replied the trembling shepherd.\n\nThe horrid vampires laughed in exultation at his misery, and the sound\nshook the walls of the solid cliffs around. \u201cHear me, Dusk, and thou,\nLunar,\u201d said the gnome, addressing the winged monsters. \u201cThis fellow\nhath had the impudence to invade our sacred precincts, and attempted to\nrelease some of our dreaded foes, the \u2018Gold Nuggets\u2019 whom we have made\nprisoners. What shall we do with the rascal?\u201d\n\n\u201cSend him to the Moon,\u201d they cried with one voice.\n\n\u201cMercy, gentlemen, mercy.\u201d\n\n\u201cFiddlesticks! To Moonland with him,\u201d answered the sprite. \u201cThere is\nlots of room for him to fossick there. Eh, Lunar?\u201d\n\nOver that terrible void, near where they held him, our hero observed a\nstrange object floating with a gentle, oscillating motion, as a feather\nfloats in space. In appearance, it was like a gigantic umbrella\ninverted, with a hole cut in the centre. To the ends of the ribs cords\nof gossamer were fastened which stretched upward to a car in the shape\nof a star, the points expanded like huge wings. The nature of this\nmaterial, or by what process this curious vehicle had been\nmanufactured, the unfortunate shepherd had neither power nor leisure at\nthat moment to examine, for the ancient fay had no sooner spoken than\nDusk and his companion seized hold of him, like a pair of vultures, and\nflew upward with him in the car of the parachute.\n\n\u201cGood-bye, Lunar, let me know when you arrive,\u201d cried some of the\nfairies.\n\n\u201cSlide a message down a moonbeam,\u201d responded others.\n\n\u201cOr a rainbow, or the tail of a comet.\u201d And while the mountain sprites\nstood and jeered, the quaint machine suddenly shot down the empty space\nwith the velocity of a cannon-ball.\n\nWho shall describe the sensation of the poor mortal, as he felt himself\nfalling\u2014falling down\u2014down, a blind mass, through the darkened air?\nThose who have fallen, or have leaped even from a moderate height, can\nhave no conception of the frenzied terror that took possession of him\nfor a moment. Yet it was only for a moment. Strange to say, he did not\nlose his presence of mind, and his fear left him as suddenly as it had\nfallen upon him. From a bewildering chaos of thought in the captive\u2019s\nmind curiosity became paramount to all else. Amid the murky blackness\naround and about there was very little to examine, but the shepherd\nthrust his head through the gossamer network of the machine and gazed\nbelow. Far, far away in the profound depths beneath them, he saw a vast\ndisc of soft light which threw its rays upward, and enabled him to\ndiscern that the abyss through which they were descending appeared like\na hollow cone, the neck of which began in the mountain, and like an\neddying circle in the water, gradually became wider and wider as they\nadvanced.\n\nThe progress of the parachute was so swift that they rapidly emerged\ninto the focus of the light\u2014the wide mouth of the cone receding to a\nfaint, dark circle on the pale horizon in the space of a few seconds.\nIt was astounding how wondrous soft and beautiful the shimmering glow\nof light in this new region burst upon the mortal\u2019s vision. He had\nwitnessed many lovely changes from the lofty peaks of the New South\nWales Alps, but Dame Nature had never presented herself to his eyes in\nsuch a garb before. Not the glaring, hot, dazzling rays of the summer\nsun here, but rather a gentle, subdued, dreamy refulgence, without the\nghost of a shadow or shade of variation upon anything.\n\nAbove, below, one universal, pale, liquid glimmer, devoid of vapour.\nDistant mountains, peaked and gabled like an iceberg, appeared to view,\nand hills and valleys, with deep ruts and chasms, forming an\namphitheatre of vast dimensions, became more clear to the sight every\nmoment. Everything seemed mixed up and confounded by the uniformity of\ncolour. Rocks, valleys, and streams presented a weird and wonderful\naspect under new conditions where, like Hoffmann\u2019s shadowless man,\nevery object was lighted up on all sides, equally, in the absence of a\ncentral point. Scorched and charred and burnt, there was not a sign of\na tree or a shrub on the face of the whole landscape. Scori\u00e6 and dross\nand pumice-stone\u2014nothing else, save the waters that lay bathed in\nluminous silvery grey.\n\nFrom the vast panorama our hero turned his eyes upon his companions,\nthe vampires. They had cast the netting of the car aside.\n\n\u201cPrepare thyself, mortal,\u201d cried Lunar in a terrible voice.\n\n\u201cPrepare myself, for what?\u201d\n\n\u201cFor a header into the sea yonder beneath us,\u201d answered the vampire\ncoolly.\n\n\u201cGood heavens! Gentlemen, you really don\u2019t think I can dive from this\ngreat height! I shall be dashed to mincemeat,\u201d responded the shepherd,\nin a tone of consternation.\n\nThe monsters only laughed at him, and repeated their command.\n\n\u201cDescend a little lower, good Lunar. Do, gentle Dusk,\u201d he pleaded.\n\n\u201cWe can\u2019t. This is Moonland. Not enough gravity here,\u201d they replied.\n\n\u201cMoonland! Mercy on me! And shall I have to leave my old bones in the\nMoon?\u201d cried he in despair.\n\n\u201cPlenty of \u2019em here\u2014loads. Valleys full, as you\u2019ll find. Come, jump!\u201d\n\n\u201cI won\u2019t!\u201d cried the shepherd in a savage tone. Whereupon the monsters\ncaught him with their claws, and threw him headlong from the car.\n\nThe fall was frightful to contemplate, and I\u2019m afraid it will be\nnecessary to allow the poor fellow seven days to recover his\nequilibrium.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nIf the unhappy mortal had been capable of thinking at the moment he was\nhurled from the car by the vampires, it is more than probable that his\nmind would have presented the picture of a terrible and instantaneous\ndeath. Strange to relate, instead of the rushing, headlong plunge\ndownward, to be anticipated under the conditions, our hero found\nhimself gently floating in space with the buoyancy of one of the\nfeathered tribe. The dread and fear of death were lost, or rather\nswallowed up in a nameless terror, at the unnatural position in which\nhe was placed. Yet there was no mystery in it. According to a\nwell-known law, the weight of bodies diminishes as they descend from\nthe outside of the Earth. It is at the surface of the globe where\nweight is most sensibly felt, and it is just possible that, had we\naccompanied the shepherd through the thick crust of the terrestrial\nsphere, we should have soon discovered, as he did, that beyond, at the\nother side, there is little or no gravity at all. Hence his peculiar\nposition. Indeed, it was most fortunate that the old man chanced to\nhave several nuggets of gold in his pockets at the time, otherwise, I\u2019m\nafraid he would have been suspended in mid-air like Mohammed\u2019s coffin.\nAs it happened, gold turned the scale, even in Moonland, and enabled\nthe adventurous mortal to descend in a horizontal rather than a\nvertical course to the shores of the Moon.\n\nWithin his vision below lay a vast expanse of water; the rugged coast\nbordered with majestic hills, torn by earthquakes, and blasted and\nravaged by volcanic fires. The waves broke on this shore with a dull,\nhollow noise against the cliffs. Some of these, dividing the coast with\ntheir sharp spurs, formed capes and promontories, fantastic in form and\nworn by the ceaseless action of the surf. It was like a continuous\ncosmical phenomenon, filling a basin of sufficient extent to contain an\ninland sea, and walled by enormous mountains with the irregular shores\nof Earth, but desert, and fearfully wild.\n\nIf the eyes of the shepherd were able to range afar over this sea, it\nwas because the shadowless light brought to view every detail of it.\nThe expanse above him was a sky of huge plains of cloud, pale yellow in\ncolour, and drifting with rapidity athwart the firmament, where\nappeared dark circles, rings and cones, in lieu of stars. Everything\nthat he could liken to aught on this globe seemed changed by some\npotent power into opposite extremes. Downward, slowly but surely,\nwithout the faculty to change his course either to the right or to the\nleft, the mortal at length plunged into the water. He was a capital\nswimmer, and had no fear of being drowned. Imagine his dismay, however,\nwhen he found himself sinking to the bottom like a crowbar, in spite of\nhis vigorous efforts to keep afloat. In vain he struck out and\nstruggled desperately to rise to the surface by use of legs and arms.\nVain and useless. Down he went, plumbing the depths below, until he\ntouched the bottom; then, to his surprise, he rebounded back again like\na cork, but only to go down again as speedily as before.\n\nThe poor fellow had been pertinaciously holding his breath, as is\ncustomary when bathing in terrestrial streams; and therefore when he\ncould no longer resist the unconquerable will of nature to draw breath,\njudge of the consternation which laid hold of him, when, instead of the\nchoking gasp of suffocation anticipated, he found little difficulty in\nrespiration! In fact, that vast sheet was not water at all, such as he\nknew it, but a subtle fluid, half way between a liquid and a gas,\nwhich, though heavier than air, was yet so much lighter than water that\nit was impossible for him to float in it.\n\nThese discoveries come to him in quick succession, and created within\nhis mind the most unspeakable astonishment. By degrees, and after many\nattempts, he found that he could walk along the bed of this strange sea\nwith comparative ease. Accordingly he straightway reached the shore and\nsat down on the cliffs to rest. Wonder upon wonder had crowded so fast\nand thick upon the bewildered mind of our traveller that his thoughts\nwere in a whirl. Yet another surprise was in store for him, for as he\nextended his vision over the landscape he beheld a gigantic creature\napproaching with prodigious bounds and flying leaps. In his utter\namazement he believed one of the rugged hills had been suddenly endowed\nwith life, and was hurrying on to crush him. Never before had the eyes\nof breathing mortal rested on such a mammoth of human outline. No, nor\nupon anything with such power of movement. He was not certain whether\nthe monster was leaping or flying, but he was quite positive as to its\nextraordinary swiftness.\n\nIn his terror the shepherd fled\u2014when lo! he found that he too was\nendowed with this singular force of locomotion. It is surprising how\nfear lends a man wings. The terrestrial one didn\u2019t need anything of the\nkind, though. Incredible the springs and leaps he made over the high\npeaks, across chasms and cliffs, and along the steep mountain-sides;\nwonderful the feeling which changed from dread to exuberant delight and\necstasy, and again to terror, as the mighty voice of the pursuer came\nupon his ears like a peal of thunder.\n\n\u201cHalt! Stop! Who art thou?\u201d\n\nHad he been then and there endowed with wings, the old shepherd felt\nthat he could not escape from the owner of that voice. All he could do\nwas to cast himself flat on his face and await his doom in silence.\n\n\u201cShall Greencheese utter his command twice? Who art thou?\u201d repeated the\nmammoth.\n\n\u201cMercy, your Highness. I am only old Bob, the shepherd of the Blue\nMountains, New South Wales.\u201d\n\n\u201cOld Bob! Blue Mountains! Ha! Fuddle-fum. Well?\u201d\n\n\u201cSome fairies got hold of me t\u2019other day, and bundles me down here, on\na sort of humberellar, your Worship; that\u2019s all I knows about it,\u201d\ncried the mortal in a despairing tone.\n\n\u201cFairies! Mum! I know the rogues,\u201d responded the creature quickly.\n\u201cMany a summer\u2019s night I have watched their freaks and gambols among\nsecluded nooks and dells hidden away from mortal ken. Many a long hour\nwe have held converse together, in the silent ravines and woods, when\nall the human mites of the Australian world were locked in sleep. Go\non!\u201d\n\n\u201cI knows noffin\u2019 more, sir, only that I shouldn\u2019t like to leave my old\nbody here!\u201d cried Bob.\n\n\u201cHa! Buncham! Fi-pho\u2014fiddle-faddlem! Thou shalt live.\u201d\n\n\u201cThanks, your Highness.\u201d And the shepherd lifted his eyes and gazed\nupon his companion. The Colossus at Rhodes, towering high above the\nlofty gables of the aged city, was but a pigmy in comparison. Ancient,\nhoary Sphinx of the Egyptians, standing for countless years on the\nshores of Father Nile, would have seemed a thing of yesterday beside\nit. Nay, that primitive marvel, the figure of wood discovered in Joppa,\naged five thousand years, could reckon itself an infant in proximity to\nthis lunarian.\n\nSave the round, full, Chinese-like face, with its accompanying\ntremendous mouth, and the faint outline of the human form, there was\nnothing further to assist description of the creature except that he\nwas high and bulky beyond conception, and quite as transparent as a\nlighted lantern. The face wasn\u2019t at all unpleasant. It beamed with such\na broad, friendly, yet withal humorous, expression as it gazed down\nupon Bob, that the mortal found courage to address it.\n\n\u201cPlease, who be you, sir?\u201d\n\n\u201cMe? I\u2019m the Man in the Moon, of course,\u201d replied the creature,\nsmiling.\n\n\u201cEh! Why, dash my old jumper, if I didn\u2019t think as I\u2019d seen your\ncountenance before!\u201d answered the old herdsman with animation. \u201cI can\ntell yer, as ye comes out pretty strong sometimes on them \u2019ere\nmountains t\u2019other side of Sydney. Why, I\u2019ve yarded many a thousand\nsheep, and you\u2019ve been a-looking at me all the while, eh?\u201d\n\nThe Man in the Moon nodded.\n\n\u201cAh, and I\u2019ll bet you knows my old dog, Patch?\u201d\n\nAnother nod in the affirmative.\n\n\u201cBrayvo! old boy. Why, we\u2019re old chums. Shake hands.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe never shake hands in the Moon, Bob; but I\u2019ll embrace you,\u201d cried\nthe lunarian, smiling; and suiting the action to the word, he suddenly\nenveloped the mortal in such a broad beam of refulgence that the old\nfellow appeared as if cased in polished armour.\n\nIn accordance with the etiquette of Moonland, it would be rude to\ndisturb their t\u00eate-\u00e0-t\u00eate before next Saturday.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n\u201cThe presumptuous beings on earth have the impudence to tell their\nchildren that the Moon is made of green cheese,\u201d quoth the mammoth.\n\n\u201cIndeed, sir, but that is very true,\u201d answered Bob. \u201cWhen I was a boy I\nbelieved it was only a big cheese, and I can safely say that when I\u2019ve\nseen it in the water, up at Bathurst, where we lived, I\u2019ve been silly\nenough to wade into the water arter it, thinking to take it home and\nhave my supper off it.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, it\u2019s rare fun to watch the moon-rakers try to grasp my shadow,\nBob.\u201d\n\n\u201cI believe you, sir. Lord, how you must laugh in your sleeve at \u2019em!\nYour Moonship must look down upon many a strange sight,\u201d said the\nshepherd reflectively.\n\nThe Man in the Moon smiled widely. \u201cHumph! I look upon all kindred of\nthe terrestrial world,\u201d he answered gravely. \u201cI am but the pale\nreflection of the great luminary, the Sun, whose slave I am. When he\nfadeth from the surface of the globe, I borrow his beams and become the\nwatchman of the night. The mighty human beings, and the lowly; rich and\npoor; the sinful and the good, are all beneath my vision. I watch the\nmurderer crawling with stealthy feet towards his victim, and I note the\nrobber lying in wait to plunder; I haunt the gloom where guilt and\nmisery lie huddled together in rags. Wickedness in high places cannot\nescape me. Over the deep sleep of toiling millions my beams hold watch\nand ward, kissing the rosy lips of innocence, where yet lingers the\nsoft breath of prayer. Hovering o\u2019er the sighing maiden and the\nrestless miser, weaving fancies which fill the poet\u2019s brain with\nunutterable poesy, and with such shapes as live only in dreams of age\nand infancy, and vanish with the light of morn. Cuddlephum!\nBobberish\u2014Baa-lamb! Bo!\u201d\n\n\u201cJust so,\u201d said Bob, opening wide his eyes at the strange words. \u201cI\nbegs to say that French wasn\u2019t taught at the school I went to.\nHowsoever, I\u2019m quite willing to dine with you, if that\u2019s what you mean.\nI\u2019m beginning to feel pereshious hungry, I can tell yer.\u201d\n\n\u201cHungry! Base mortal, there is no such word known here,\u201d echoed the\nmonster.\n\n\u201cGood heavens! No eating!\u201d cried Bob, aghast.\n\n\u201cNone.\u201d\n\n\u201cScissors! I\u2019m afraid visitors from Australia won\u2019t overrun Moonland,\nif that\u2019s the case.\u201d\n\n\u201cPeace! Follow me, and thou shalt taste nectar, which shall banish the\ncravings of thy vulgar race.\u201d\n\nThe Man in the Moon bounded away over the pumice-stone crags like a\ngigantic kangaroo, followed by Bob. Chaos and desolation were\neverywhere visible around them. Sad indeed and supremely melancholy\nlooked the place. Mountains riven asunder; vast ravines and valleys\nchoked with bleached bones of monsters unknown to men; immense plains,\nscattered thickly with the fossil remnants of ages; mingled dust and\nhuge mounds of bony fragments of animal and reptile, which a thousand\nCuviers could never have reconstructed. Up the rugged zigzags with\ntremendous leaps, echoless, shadowless, and across the dust, silent to\ntheir footfall, went the lunarian and the mortal.\n\n\u201cThis is a dreary place, sir,\u201d muttered the latter, almost breathless\nin his haste.\n\n\u201cPeace, or perchance the forms of these dead monsters will rise to\nrebuke thee!\u201d answered his companion solemnly. \u201cHere, where thou art\nstanding, these enormous animals of the first period lived and roved at\nwill. The human mind cannot conceive their colossal proportions, for\nthey were extinct many ages before the advent of man.\u201d\n\nThe shepherd followed his conductor in silence, wondering if it were\npossible that these mighty dead could take shape again and swallow him\nat one snap. Jonah had been bolted by a whale, but the skeletons of\nthese creatures appeared large enough to engulf a hundred whales a day,\nand twice that number of Jonahs into the bargain.\n\nBob was almost ready to sink down amid the Golgotha when the Man in the\nMoon halted before a very high mountain. Making a sign to his companion\nto follow, he quickly disappeared from view. At first it seemed as if\nthe mammoth had vanished within the mountain, but the mortal saw an\nopening at the base which he entered. What a study for a geologist! In\nthe dim ages of the past, when the satellite of our Earth seethed and\nboiled as a vast crater, the solid intestines of this cone, yielding to\nsome great power below it, had been riven in twain, leaving an\nunmeasurable grotto of winding galleries. Toiling along in the wake of\nthe lunarian, the captive trod on a broad aisle, on each side of which\nrose a series of arches succeeding each other, like the noble arcades\nof some Gothic cathedral. Obelisk-like massive pillars stood out from\nthe rent wall like mighty sentinels guarding the wreck. Had our hero\nbeen a mineralogist, armed with his hammer, his steel pointer, his\nmagnetic needles, and his blow pipe, what a fund of information he\nmight have gleaned here to place before the spectacles of professors\nand philosophers! Nay, had he but possessed the faintest idea of the\nscience of building, what patterns, what studies around and above him,\nfor every form of the art to hereafter confound architects of the\nnineteenth century!\n\nPoor Bob was neither a mineralogist nor an architect, so he passed by\nthese things without a second glance, and entered a vaulted chamber,\nupon whose round, jagged dome rested the whole weight of the mountain;\nthe dented projections and the sharp points on wall and roof spun into\nan endless network of lines and seams, luminous as all things here\nseemed to be, and changing colour from silver-grey to deep crimson.\n\nWonder had lost its functions for Bob the shepherd, otherwise he would\nhave stood aghast at the strange forms moving to and fro within this\nchamber; round in shape, and taller than giants of long ago, with arms\nand legs evidently telescoped at the joints, so that they could\nlengthen or shorten them at will, and each shedding their quota of\nrefulgence to illuminate the scene. Monster glow-worms, gigantic\nfire-flies, with the trickery of monkeys, and the strength of bears,\nseized the shrinking man, and rose with him to the dome, which opened\ninstantly and engulfed them. Amidst a circle of light, which changed\nquicker than the sparkles of a diamond, the poor shepherd found he was\nbeing borne upward and hemmed in by a ring of these natives of the\nMoon\u2014upward and yet upward, without will to pause or stop, the mad\nwhirlwind of light ever changing, red, blue, grey, yellow, white,\nazure, and the legion gathering in increased numbers every moment round\nhim until the climax came, and the crater, that had been silent for\ncountless ages, once more opened its ponderous jaws, casting him forth\nas a rocket, where\u2014amidst fiery rings and bars, and blazing stars of\nlight\u2014he fell down, down, down into darkness and oblivion!\n\n\n\n\u201cI say, mate, how far is it to the Blue Mountains Inn?\u201d\n\nOld Bob, the shepherd, rubbed his eyes and looked up at the questioner.\nHe was a stout, thick-set fellow, with a heavy swag on his back, and a\nblack billy-can in his hand.\n\nThe man had to repeat his query ere the herdsman found speech.\n\n\u201cWhy, surely, you\u2019re not the Man in the Moon, eh?\u201d asked Bob, with a\nwild stare.\n\nThe swagman stepped backward a pace or two, and regarded our hero with\nmore attention.\n\n\u201cMan in the Moon!\u201d he repeated. \u201cWhy, the old fellow\u2019s gone off his\nhead.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere\u2019s the others with the long legs and arms?\u201d and the shepherd\nshuddered.\n\n\u201cHe\u2019s cranky, sure enough,\u201d muttered the traveller audibly. \u201cThe coves\nas you were asking arter are all gone,\u201d he said aloud. \u201cYou get up on\nyour pins, or they\u2019ll be back again Here\u2019s a bob; come now, hook it, or\nthey\u2019ll have you,\u201d saying which the swagman went on his way.\n\nOur hero raised himself into a sitting posture. Before him lay the\nverdant slopes and ridges of the mountain, bathed in sunlight. Yonder\nhis sheep fed peacefully, watched by the faithful Patch. Then the old\nman raised his vision higher than the earth and thanked Heaven that he\nwas still safe and sound on terra firma.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\u201cSAILOR.\u201d\n\n\nThat great painter of animals, Sir Edwin Landseer, never sketched a\nnobler specimen of the canine race than the big, black, curly\nNewfoundland dog, Sailor, the hero of our story. He was a fine,\nfaithful dog, and almost as large as a young foal, and every bit as\nfrisky and as harmless, save when teased by naughty boys. If you tried\never so hard you couldn\u2019t hide anything from Sailor. You might fasten\nhim in a room and then attempt to conceal a ball, or a piece of wood,\nin the garden or the stables, but the moment you set him free Sailor\nwould hunt the object out and return with it in his mouth. Besides\nbeing sagacious, the faithful brute could dive and swim like a fish;\nthat is why he received such a suitable name.\n\nCaptain Hauser, of the barque South Australian, had brought him from\nIndia when but a puppy, but now the worthy captain had settled down\nashore with his two boys at Anchordale on the River Murray, and the dog\nhad become almost one of the family circle.\n\nOn a very hot afternoon, and when the New Year was scarcely a score of\ndays old, Bertie Hauser and his cousin, Tom Blake, took it into their\nheads to have a row down the river. Anchordale was a pleasant cottage\nsituated on the bank of the Murray, with a tiny skiff fastened to a\nstout post at the end of the orchard.\n\nBertie was only eight years of age, and Tom one year older; but the\nboat being so small and light they managed to get afloat and paddled\naway in high glee down the river. The dog, Sailor, was the only one who\nhad seen them depart, and he, with wagging tail and out-hanging tongue,\nhad begged, as only dumb animals can, to accompany them on their trip;\nbut Tom Blake said the boat would be swamped with such a cargo, and so\nthe lads had departed without him. Now, although Sailor was dumb, he\nwasn\u2019t blind. Neither was the poor brute wanting in instinct. Many a\nday he had acted as a substitute for a pony for little Bertie, and had\neven suffered the child to put a string into his mouth for a bridle,\nand had trotted or cantered and walked up and down the lawn according\nto the whim of his infantile rider. Indeed, Sailor was a kind old dog,\nand probably thought it his duty to guard the person of his young\nmaster, on land or on the water.\n\nPerhaps this instinct prompted the Newfoundland to crawl cat-like\nthrough the dense scrub on the bank of the river and keep the skiff in\nview. Be that as it may, the dog never lost sight of them for a moment.\nHe saw Tom Blake guide the boat into a wide part of the stream, and\nwhere the banks were very high and almost as steep as the gable of a\nhouse.\n\n\u201cOh, Bertie, here\u2019s the place for a bathe. Are you game?\u201d asked Tom,\nrocking the boat.\n\nBertie assented. They found a little cove, where they landed, and made\nfast the skiff; then ascending the high bank they began to prepare for\nthe water. Both boys had been taught to swim\u2014as all boys should be\u2014but\nBertie and his cousin had been warned not to bathe down the river,\nbecause there were places teeming with snags and dangerous\nundercurrents. Tom and his companion had forgotten all about the\ncaution. The water at this spot appears very dark and still and cool,\nwith the shadows of the overhanging trees upon it, and the drooping\nbranches of the willows laving to and fro on its bosom with a dreamy\nsound.\n\n\u201cWhat a frightful jump!\u201d cried Bertie, approaching the brink timidly,\nand looking over at the river beneath. \u201cIt\u2019s a high leap, Tom; hadn\u2019t\nwe better go a little farther down?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot at all,\u201d responds Tom, swinging his arms about above his head. \u201cI\nlike a good header; you stand there and watch me dive.\u201d\n\nBertie stands aside and watches him. Tom retires several paces, starts\nforward with a short, quick run, and springs headforemost from the\ncliff into the river. For a moment the waters bubble and widen out in\ncircling eddies over the broad expanse. Bertie Hauser stands looking\ndown trying to trace the white, shapely form of his cousin cleaving\nthrough the dark stream, expecting to see him rise to the surface\ntwenty yards away from where he plunged in. But many seconds go by, and\nTom Blake rises not, and poor Bertie, in an agony of suspense, calls to\nhim to \u201ccome up at once, or he will be drownded,\u201d as if the treacherous\nelement would part its substance and carry his weak voice below, to its\nholes and caves, where his companion is struggling for his little life.\n\n\u201cTom, Tom, dear cousin Tom,\u201d cries the child on the bank, as the truth\nbegins to dawn upon him that Tom is drowning. \u201cOh! what shall I do to\nhelp him? What shall I do?\u201d When lo! old Sailor comes bounding towards\nhim with a joyous bark. The boy clutches his favourite by the ears and\ndraws him forward to the brink of the river, where, pointing down to\nthe water, he urges on the dog with voice and gesture. \u201cHo, Sailor,\nfetch him out, old fellow, go on\u2014bring him out.\u201d\n\nSailor needs no second bidding. Before Bertie has the words out of his\nmouth, the dog comprehends the whole business, and leaps into the water\nand disappears. How anxiously the child watches for his re-appearance!\nAt a spot half way up the stream, he observes the water begin to whirl\nand eddy and bubble upward, as being disturbed by a great commotion\nbeneath; and here Sailor rises to the surface, and blows the water from\nhis snout, like a whale; but the dog is alone. There is no sign of poor\nTom Blake. Little Bertie becomes sick and faint with terror, but the\nboy does not lose his presence of mind. He has every confidence in the\nNewfoundland\u2019s strength and courage.\n\n\u201cHo, Sailor, fetch him out, old boy, bring him out.\u201d\n\nDownward plunges the gallant dog again, while his young master, naked\nas he is, rushes down to the skiff, jumps in, and pushes into\nmidstream, running athwart the dog, as he rises once more. This time\nSailor has something in his mouth, but the boat knocking against him\ncauses him to let go. Yet he dives after it, and appears again in a\nmoment with the drowning boy. Sailor has clutched him firmly by the\nhair of the head, and the dog\u2019s great red eyes are all aflame as he\nbuoys up the insensible child and paddles the water with ponderous\nstrokes and lands him safe upon the bank.\n\nWhat avail little Bertie\u2019s terms of endearment and the affectionate\nappeals he makes to his still, silent cousin? Tom Blake is deaf. And\nalthough Bertie may make a hundred promises of bats and guns and ponies\npoor Tom cannot hear him.\n\nIt is fortunate that two men with swags upon their backs are passing at\nthe time, who carry the unfortunate youth into the sunlight, and rub\nhis body vigorously with their hands until the vitality that was almost\nextinct begins to revive again within him.\n\nWhen Tom had partly recovered and could speak, he told his uncle, the\ncaptain, that when he dived he struck his head against a snag, which\nrendered him insensible, and no doubt in that state he was being\ncarried away by the current when the dog found him.\n\nAnd poor Tom was grateful for the service, for when he was quite well\nhe bought the Newfoundland a grand collar, and had the following\ninscription engraven on it:\u2014\n\n\n                            \u201cSailor,\n\n        \u201cRescued Tom Anson Blake from drowning on the\n         18th January, 187-, at Anchordale, River Murray.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nNELLIE.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nRain, rain\u2014nothing but rain on this Christmas Eve, in the New South\nWales metropolis. Although it was in the heat of summer the wind from\nthe coast blew keenly through the almost deserted streets, and caused\nthe fine mist-like wet to penetrate the stoutest overcoat. It was such\nweather that no one who had a roof over his head would care to be out\nin. But there was one wearily toiling from street to street, beneath\nthe protection of the verandahs\u2014a delicate-looking girl. With one hand\nshe was trying to wrap her scanty rags round her wasted body, and in\nthe other she held a half-dozen boxes of wax matches. Her face was\nworn, and pinched, and dirty, but it was a very beautiful, patient,\nlittle face; her hair, too, would have been a bright golden in natural\nhue, save that it was shaggy and dirty also. It was to little purpose\nthat she offered her matches to the passers-by, who were few and far\nbetween on this wet evening\u2014they were all too anxious to get home out\nof the rain. From the brightly lighted streets the little wanderer\ncrossed Hyde Park, and wended her way slowly up Oxford Street, and from\nthence to the left, along the Bay Road, where dwell the wealthy and the\ngreat. Why she had left the shops and all the busy part of the city for\nthe wide, bleak road, dotted with high, massive houses standing out\ndark and cold in the falling rain, the poor child could not tell.\nImpelled by some strange fascination, she had quitted her usual haunts,\nand taken the opposite direction leading from her wretched home.\nAlthough it was getting late, and past the time when she should have\nreturned, she had no thought of going home. Her memory was full of\nfaint, indistinct thoughts, whether dreams or faraway realities, who\nshall say? She wondered why she had rambled so far from the city; but\nshe also felt she must go on. Her ragged dress was soaked with rain and\nthe keen wind was cruel and cutting, yet the poor little thing did not\nfeel the rain or the wind; on the contrary, she felt as if she was on\nfire, save now and then there would pass a cold feeling all over her,\nwhich caused a shivering fit. The match girl was well aware that she\nwould be beaten when she returned to her wretched dwelling, yet,\nstrange to say, she felt perfectly happy as she wandered farther away\nfrom it.\n\nHalf way up the Bay Road there came over the little waif a feeling of\ndizziness, accompanied by a feeling of thirst, and again that burning\nsensation which again changed into a cold shiver, as she stood there.\nClose at hand there was a friendly porch belonging to a grand mansion,\nso the child crept into it, out of the wind and rain, and crouched\ndown. No sooner had she done so than all her light-heartedness appeared\nto leave her, and she burst into tears. It was very strange that\ndirectly the little match vendor began to cry she heard a confusion of\nsounds around her\u2014wild, mocking laughter, and shouts, and stamping of\nfeet, and strange lights were dancing before her eyes. The stones on\nwhich she was lying seemed to be heaving and tossing, and she felt very\nfrightened just for a moment, and then she fell fast asleep.\n\nThese sounds still went on in her slumber, but they gradually got\nsofter and softer, and sweeter and more subdued, until they changed\ninto the most lovely music. And the little outcast thought she was\nstanding in the midst of a very beautiful garden, and somehow it\nappeared to her that she had known it all a long time ago. The rain and\nwind and the murky clouds had passed away, and it was glorious, sunny\nday; the flowers were in full bloom. Voices of birds and insects filled\nthe balmy air, and gay coloured butterflies flitted here and there.\nWhile she was standing, wondering that all these strange things should\nseem so familiar to her, a handsome boy, with golden curls, approached,\nand exclaimed,\u2014\n\n\u201cOh, dear sister Nellie, come and play. Why did you go away and stay\naway so long?\u201d\n\nThe dreamer looked up; she appeared to know the happy face quite well,\nand she assured him in a voice, that was not like her old thin, weak\nvoice, but soft and clear, which seemed like a voice that had belonged\nto her a long, long time ago,\u2014\n\n\u201cIndeed, I don\u2019t know where I have been, Frank; nor why I went away. Is\nit a long time since?\u201d she asked timidly.\n\n\u201cSuch a long time, sister.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am here at last, Frank; and I will never go away again. Come, let us\nplay in the garden.\u201d And then she took his hand, and they walked on\ntogether amongst the flowers, while the thousand voices round about\ngave gladsome welcome. All the old miserable life of the beggar child\nseemed to fade quickly away here, leaving nothing save the feeling that\nshe had always been accustomed to the grand objects by which she found\nherself surrounded.\n\n\u201cSuppose we have a game of hide and seek?\u201d suggested Frank.\n\n\u201cThat will be very nice; but who shall hide first?\u201d\n\nThey had a little consultation about that very important matter, when\nit was decided that Nellie should hide first. It was most peculiar that\nthe name Nellie came quite natural to the dreamer, though she had been\ncalled Maggie, Meg, and sometimes Peggy as long as she could remember.\n\nSo Nellie went to hide, and she hid behind a rosebush, and there she\nfound a great hole in the ground big enough for her to creep into. Ere\nshe had settled herself, Nellie found that the hole led to a dark\npassage, with a soft light glimmering at the end of it. Still\nwondering, she went towards the light. Passing along through several\narchways, the child emerged into a splendid cavern, lit up with many\ncoloured, sparkling lights from thousands of precious stones, with\nwhich the sides and roof of the place were studded. While she was\nstanding awe-struck with amazement at this magnificent place, she heard\nby her side a flutter of light wings, and turning, saw hovering over\nher a beautiful little creature with long hair, which glittered like\nwoven sunbeams. The form was rose-hued in colour, and from its\nshoulders sprang green wings, sheeny and lustrous as the throat of a\nhumming-bird.\n\n\u201cCome!\u201d warbled the being, and the voice was dreamy and sweet, like the\n\u201ccoo\u201d of a stock dove. \u201cCome, and I will show you something wonderful.\u201d\n\nAnd the lovely being took Nellie by the hand, and led the child through\na cleft in the rock to another room which was lined, roof, walls, and\nfloor, with soft green moss. All round the room were hung beautiful\ngarlands adorned with diamonds. Some fairly blazed again with gems,\nothers contained only a few, fixed here and there, while fairy-like\nforms flitted to and fro continually, bearing in their hands more gems,\nwhich they fixed into the garlands. The dreamer was very much surprised\nat what she beheld.\n\n\u201cWhere do they get all those diamonds to put into the garlands?\u201d she\ninquired of her companion.\n\n\u201cThe diamonds,\u201d answered her conductor, \u201care the tears of sorrow shed\nby the unhappy people in the world; for always while they are weeping\nthere are unseen watchers ready waiting to receive their tears and\nconvey them here.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what are those very large gems, that shine so brightly in the\nmiddle of the finished garlands?\u201d\n\n\u201cThose are tears of joy; no garland can be finished without them.\u201d\n\nThe child wandered round the chamber, and saw that almost all the\nwreaths had some tears of joy and some of sorrow; but she came at last\nto one that was quite full of tears of sorrow and in it no tears of joy\nat all, while on it was a name, \u201cPeggy the Beggar.\u201d\n\nScarcely had her eyes fallen upon the name than she awoke; awoke, and\nbeheld bending over her a lady with a lovely face; but she looked proud\nand stern, and the little wanderer instinctively shrank away from her\nand crouched closer to the wall.\n\n\u201cHow very tiresome that this wretched child should choose my porch, of\nall places, to creep into for shelter,\u201d cried the lady, in a cold,\nunfeeling tone. \u201cYet I cannot turn the unfortunate thing away on such a\nnight as this. It\u2019s a poor Christmas indeed for the poor child,\u201d she\nadded, in a more tender way. \u201cHere, Smith, take up this little beggar\nand carry her to the kitchen, give her something to eat, and tell Jane\nto put some dry things on her.\u201d\n\nA tall servant came forward and lifted the ragged bundle of humanity in\nhis arms as tenderly as a mother would have done. The man had just such\nanother little girl at home, and his heart yearned with sympathy for\nthe outcast as he bore her along the great hall of the house. Certainly\nthe place was strange to the child; but as in her dream she seemed to\nremember everything, so now it appeared to her that the objects upon\nwhich she gazed had been familiar to her a long, long time ago, and her\ndream came back to her so vividly that she cried out aloud, \u201cOh, Frank!\nFrank! Dear brother, where are you hiding? Do come to me. Come to\nsister Nellie. I am not playing now.\u201d\n\nThe stern lady had followed her servant with his living burden; but\nwhen that cry reached her she stopped short, and grasped at the wall\nfor support. What sudden spasm caused the beautiful, haughty face to\ngrow instantly pale, and the tall form to bend trembling down as if\nstruck with palsy?\n\n\u201cOh, Frank, come to sister Nellie. Dear brother, come.\u201d\n\nWith a wild, hysterical sob the stately figure bowed lower yet, and\npressed her arms upon her throbbing bosom as if each of the little\noutcast\u2019s words had been cruel dagger-thrusts that were piercing her\nthrough and through.\n\nColdness, pride, the vigorous will, that moulds martyrs and devils\nalike, was strong within the woman, yet the combination of all three\nhad no power against that weak out-cry\u2014\u201cCome to sister Nellie, Frank!\u201d\n\nEre the low, faint wail had died out, the proud lady had snatched the\npoor child to her bosom, and covering the hot, unwashed face with\npassionate kisses, cried aloud,\u2014\n\n\u201cI\u2014I had a darling Nellie once, and a golden-haired boy also, whom we\ncalled Frank, but they were buds that faded here to bloom in heaven.\nAnd now their dear voices will never fall upon my ears again. Alas!\nAlas!\u201d\n\nThen like all else she had seen in this place, it seemed to the child\nthat the face of the beautiful lady was not altogether strange to her.\nThe very caress was like the endearing embrace of a mother, whose heart\nhad longed and yearned for her lost ones, and the poor little outcast\nwondered how it all could be, until she lost all consciousness and\nbegan to dream again.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nIt was a long and troubled dream. Days and weeks appeared to pass away\nin which the little sleeper could remember nothing clearly. At one time\nthe beautiful lady would appear to be bending fondly over her, and then\nthe face would change suddenly to that of a wretched hag, whom she had\nknown and called mother, in the miserable home she had within the slums\nof the city. From this place came terrible voices in her ears, and\nterrible things struggling round the bed. Flames of fire darted and\ndanced in her poor, weary eyes; but through all this she beheld the\nfairy of the cavern appear again, holding in his hand the wreath\nwhereon was written her name. He held it towards her gleaming with\ndiamond tear-drops. How she struggled to reach it! The more she tried\nthe weaker she became, but it seemed to her that there was an invisible\narm round her for her to rest upon, and though faint and weary, her\nfailing footsteps ever got nearer and nearer the precious circlet. Then\nfollowed an interval of soft, soothing quiet, and the eyes of our\nheroine opened drowsily upon the waking world again. She felt very\nweak, but somehow very happy. She was lying on a clean, white bed in a\ncomfortable room, which appeared as if she had seen it before somewhere\nin her dreams. As the child raised her weary eyelids her gaze rested\nupon the prostrate form of the lady kneeling by her bedside, with her\nface hidden in the bedclothes, sobbing. The poor wanderer felt sorry\nthat one who had been so kind to her should weep in trouble, and\nraising her little warm hand, she laid it on the beautiful head of the\nkneeler, and uttered the familiar word, \u201cMamma.\u201d\n\nThe little sufferer knew not why that tender word rose to her lips\nbefore any other; she only knew that the affectionate term was in her\nheart and mind\u2014that was all.\n\nAt the sound the grand lady raised her head, and kissed the child again\nand again with maternal fondness, her lips murmuring the while, \u201cMy own\ndarling child. My Nellie, whom I thought had departed from me for ever.\nHeaven has been good to me.\u201d\n\nThen for the first time the little match vendor shed tears of joy.\nSleep came to her again, from which she was aroused by the sound of\nvoices talking in whispers close to the bed.\n\n\u201cI am so sorry to have disobeyed you, ma\u2019am, but you must forgive me,\nand let me stay and nurse my own little pet,\u201d cried a girl\u2019s voice in\npleading accents. \u201cWhen they told me at home that the stolen child had\ncome home again to you, I couldn\u2019t keep away. I know it\u2019s all along of\nmy carelessness that she was took away. Yet I loved the deary and was\ncompelled to come, although you must hate the very sight of me.\u201d\n\n\u201cHush, nurse, hush!\u201d replied the lady\u2019s voice sadly. \u201cI am so glad you\nhave come. Since I lost my Nellie, and Frank died, and my dear husband\nperished at sea, I have been a friendless, lonely, and unhappy woman.\nNow my lost darling has been restored to me again the world will not\nseem so bleak and weary. You shall stay and help me nurse my stolen\nbaby into health again.\u201d\n\nIt seemed very strange to the child, as she lay back in the bed, to\nlearn the early history of her own life; how she had been stolen away\nwhen she was only a wee toddler; how her brother, just one year older\nthan herself, had pined and died for his sister; how the poor mother,\nwith all her grand and fashionable friends, had felt herself deserted,\nand had hardened her heart against all good influences, until the cry\nof the frightened little outcast had reached and softened it.\n\nThere were long, weary watchings by the couch of the sufferer, filled\nwith anxiety and suspense. For the mother who had found her lost one\nhad a vague dread haunting her that her darling might be snatched\nruthlessly from her a second time, and by a foe more terrible than a\nkidnapper. The child\u2019s sleep was filled with dreams of angels. They\ncarried her again and again to that rocky chamber where hung the\ngarlands; and each time she found her own all ablaze with tears of joy,\nand nearly finished.\n\nOn one occasion she stretched forth her hand to take it, but the fairy\ncame up to her and said,\u2014\n\n\u201cNot yet, my dear; you shall wear it very soon.\u201d\n\nThe child related these dreams to her mother, who answered nothing, but\nfell down upon her knees and prayed that the garland should not be\ncompleted yet awhile.\n\nNellie could not understand all this, but one night she felt very weak\nand cold. Her mother was seated by the bedside gazing with greedy eyes\nat the poor, worn, pinched-up little face. There were others in the\nroom, but the patient now saw only her mother.\n\n\u201cDear mamma!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is it, my darling?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have seen the garlands again. Mine is finished at last.\u201d\n\nThe face of the lady grew very pale. She hid her weeping eyes and\nmuttered,\u2014\n\n\u201cA little while longer, only a little while.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know what the garland means now, mamma; I am going to die,\u201d\n\n\u201cOh no! my dear, long lost pet, not yet, not yet. I cannot spare you,\nnow you have come back to me. Stay with me a little while\u2014just a little\nwhile. You are so very dear to me.\u201d\n\nWho shall say what agony of supplication in that low wail of entreaty?\nWho shall fathom its intensity?\n\n\u201cBut you will come too, mamma?\u201d said the weak voice, now grown very\nweak and feeble. \u201cYou have cried so much, your garland must be nearly\nready.\u201d\n\nA great sob, which shook the tall, shapely figure like a reed, was the\nonly answer. She raised her head at length, and the eyes of mother and\nchild met.\n\n\u201cOh, when I get there, I\u2019ll prepare your garland, mamma,\u201d came the\nfaint voice, almost in a whisper now.\n\nFor a moment there was a wild light in the poor mother\u2019s eyes. The\nwords appeared to stir some old memory in her heart. She looked into\nthe peaceful face of her dying child, and the voice became more calm\nand steady.\n\n\u201cIt is very hard to part, my darling, very hard; but I will try to bear\nit all, so that tears of joy may mingle with tears of sorrow in my\nwreath of immortality.\u201d\n\nThe words fell on an ear that heard them not. There was a look on the\nchild\u2019s face that caused the mother to rush forward and throw her arms\nabout the poor weak clay, as if to stay the departing spirit in its\nflight.\n\n\u201cOh, mamma! there is little brother Frank with my garland. See! he is\nbeckoning to me.\u201d\n\nAnd then the weary little head fell forward on the mother\u2019s shoulder,\nand the tired spirit entered into rest.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nIN THE CLOUDS.\n\n\nThey came to the boy one night when he was abed, and said they would\ntake him with them in their fairy balloon.\n\nWillie Fenton told his father and mother that he had seen the elfins,\nand what they had promised him, but they only laughed at him and told\nhim he had been dreaming.\n\nOur hero wasn\u2019t to be convinced that it was only a dream. Hadn\u2019t he\nseen them\u2014three fairy creatures no higher than his top\u2014enter his\nbedroom through the keyhole, and seat themselves on his pillow, and\nbegin talking about the glorious sights to be seen in the clouds?\n\nIf Willie Fenton had been born up in a balloon his youthful fancy could\nnot have been imbued with a greater passion for the sport. Indeed,\nsince he was a child of four or five years old our youthful aeronaut\nhad blown soap bubbles, and had watched them soar away in the sun,\nglistening with all the hues of the rainbow, and his dreams at night\nand aspirations by day had been to emulate those daring spirits who\nsurpassed the mighty eagle in his flight into the bright blue sky above\nthe clouds.\n\nWillie\u2019s home, situated on Mount Pleasant, was in the vicinity of many\na romantic spot calculated to favour the elves in their adventure, and\none fine morning, as the lad was returning from a neighbouring farm, he\nespied his three nocturnal visitors seated under a large gum-tree\nawaiting him. Willie recognised them in a moment, and doffing his cap\nsaid, \u201cGood-morning, gentlemen.\u201d\n\nThe fairies rose and saluted him, and answered that they were quite\nready to fulfil their promises. Our hero thanked them for their\nkindness, and at the same time expressed himself quite ready to\naccompany them. Whereupon the three elves conducted him in silence\nalong a narrow ravine which opened out on a still, quiet glen on the\nbanks of the river. Fastened securely between two huge trees, Willie\nbeheld a great, pear-shaped thing, swaying to and fro with the motion\nof the breeze, and at which the elves pointed and said, \u201cBehold, our\ncloud car.\u201d\n\nYes, it was a grand balloon, already inflated and with a cage attached,\nbordered with wild roses and creepers, that reached from the apex of\nthe monster down to the car beneath, which hung suspended, like a\nflower-pot in a balcony. How it surged and struggled desperately with\nthe wind, as if it were endowed with life, and wished to escape from\nfastenings that held it, and soar upward! And how frail it appeared, as\nWillie approached and examined it! Was it made of cloth? No, too fine\nfor cloth. Cotton? Nay, it was too soft for cotton, or silk either. Yet\nthe whole fabric seemed no weightier than a gossamer. The fairies\nsmiled at the boy\u2019s curiosity, and invited him to enter the car. Our\nlittle hero had no sooner complied than the elfins seated themselves at\nhis side. And one of them, who had a bright diadem glittering upon his\nbreast, stood up and waved his hand as a signal, when instantly the\nballoon shot aloft with inconceivable velocity.\n\nThe young mortal closed his eyes and held his breath for one brief\nmoment; but when he looked forth, the earth appeared to be miraculously\nvanishing from his sight. Although the ascent was fearfully rapid, the\nmotion of the balloon was quite imperceptible. The morning was bright\nand sunny, the sky a deep, Prussian blue, and as the boy craned his\nneck over the cage and gazed below, what a glorious sight met his view.\nThere stretched beneath him were the golden valleys of his birthplace,\nwith hundreds of farms dotting the landscape, and no bigger than a\nchild\u2019s toy. From his elevated position the houses were as so many\ndots, and the people in the fields as tiny ants. The flowing Torrens,\nthat had seemed so broad and deep, appeared as a silver thread, and the\nhigh cliffs and hills were on a level with the dull round earth. Willie\nFenton felt not the least alarm; on the contrary, his courage rose with\nthe balloon, as it sped upward to the sky. The elfin with the diadem\nthrew out some pieces of paper, which seemed to drop like stones. This,\nhowever, was not so, but only the effect of the terrible rate at which\nthey were travelling. Higher, higher, still higher. Now they\ndisappeared from view, in a thick vapour forming the white clouds,\nwhich looked so light and fleecy from earth. The balloon did not remain\nlong in these, but quickly rose into a clear atmosphere beyond. And\nhere the scene changed to one splendid in the extreme. Above them\nnothing but the big round sun, and the deep azure of the heavens.\nBeneath no dingy earth, dim and gloomy, but a brilliant sea of\nsparkling cloud, rose tinted, dancing and flashing in the sun\u2019s rays.\nThe cloud completely hid everything below, and lay beneath like a huge,\nrolling billow, the top of which flashed back the sunlight till our\nhero almost fancied it was a wave of driven snow spangled with\ndiamonds. How long Willie might have remained in his rapt trance of\nwonder it is hard to say, but he was aroused by a feeling of cold, and\na difficulty in breathing.\n\n\u201cOur mortal friend will find it very chilly up here,\u201d said Pippin, who\nwore the diadem, answering the boy\u2019s unspoken words.\n\n\u201cIt has grown very cold indeed, gentlemen,\u201d rejoined Willie, his teeth\nchattering as he spoke.\n\n\u201cHa, ha! Listen to him, Needle; hear him, Bobbin; he\u2019s beginning to\ncry out already!\u201d cried Pippin to his companions. \u201cCold, eh? Well, we\nhave a cure for cold, and for frost and snow\u2014whole mountains of it. Eh,\nNeedle?\u201d As Pippin spoke, he unrolled a parcel which had been lying\nunnoticed at the bottom of the car, and produced a cloak made of the\nsame material as the balloon. Without more ado they enveloped Willie\nfrom head to heel in the garment, with just sufficient space left clear\nabout his eyes so that he could see, the rest of him being completely\ncovered. In a few moments he began to breathe more freely, and the\nrarity of the air made no impression upon him at all.\n\n\u201cYou feel all right now, Willie Fenton?\u201d questioned Bobbin. Willie\nmumbled, and nodded his head in the affirmative.\n\n\u201cLet us mount higher then, my brethren. Excelsior!\u201d exclaimed Pippin of\nthe diadem. \u201cBold indeed the mortal who first conceived and carried out\nthe idea of making the unstable element water subservient to his\ngenius, as witness the ships that come and go on the bosom of the\nocean; but it is left to us, the elves of Australia, to curb the air\nand make it do our bidding. Higher and higher go we, to show this\nmortal the wonders of the upper world.\u201d\n\nUpward still, beyond the cloud which breaks for a moment and gives them\na glimpse of the sea, and the coast-line away to the westward seeming\nno broader than a single thread. And now the cold became intense, but\nthe fairies and their companion felt it not, for their gaze was fixed\nupon a sight that no emperor or king had ever seen\u2014and perchance never\nwould. If all the diamonds in that rich valley visited by Sinbad the\nSailor, also all the gems which Aladdin\u2019s lamp could have procured, and\nall that ever have been seen in the world had been pressed into the\nservice\u2014they would have failed utterly in producing one tithe of the\nstrange sight Willie now saw. The whole dome of the balloon was covered\nas it were in a diamond mantle. A shower of glittering gems was falling\nin all directions, apparently coming from the blue void above, and\nsprinkling down, with a fluttering motion like that of butterflies, and\nthen disappearing in the vast abyss below.\n\nLost in amazement at this marvellous vision, the boy frees one of his\nhands, and reaches to catch one of the heavenly gems; but he discovers\nthe diamond shower is in reality only thin sheets of newly-formed ice.\n\nThe elves laugh at him and the look of wonder on his face. And Pippin\nexplains in a grave tone, \u201cBoy, we have entered a region where some\nwatery vapour hath been, which the cold hath turned into ice, and now\nbeing heavier than the atmosphere falls fluttering to the earth.\nTowards the earth, I say, since I know well it will never reach it,\nbecause before it can do so it will encounter a warmer region, when the\nice will again become water and the water vapour. Do you understand?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh yes. It\u2019s the vapour which makes the clouds, isn\u2019t it?\u201d answered\nWillie.\n\n\u201cJust so,\u201d replied the elfin. \u201cAnd now having fulfilled our promise, we\nwill descend again to old mother earth.\u201d\n\nLike a streak of light the fairy balloon shot downward through the\nglittering, diamond shower, through the mist and cloud, until the\nbright landscape appeared in view. The elfins, Pippin, Needle, and\nBobbin, landed Willie safely by the river-bank, and the boy reached\nhome just in time for dinner.\n\n\n\nThe three elves still haunt that dell by the Torrens, so if any of my\nreaders are anxious for a trip in the fairy balloon, I have no doubt\nMessrs. Pippin & Co. will be only too glad to oblige them\u2014that is, if\nthey are at home.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nWONDERLAND.\n\n\nMount with me, my little friends, upon the wings of fancy. Don\u2019t be\nalarmed\u2014the conveyance is perfectly safe, and warranted free from\naccidents. Hi, Presto! Here we stand upon the famous Blue Mountains of\nour neighbour, whose glens, dells, and deep ravines are haunted by\ncreatures beautiful beyond conception, and grotesque, and stranger than\nany painter dreamed of. Yonder, on the mountain-side, the western train\nis seen puffing its way along the gigantic \u201czigzag,\u201d like a huge\nserpent, and whose hot breath takes weird shapes before it is lost in\nthe blue haze above it. Beneath, on that natural terrace of rock,\nstands the humble hut of the charcoal-burner, whose single window\noverlooks a deep valley of monster trees\u2014fallen and half-buried amongst\ngreat blocks of stone and rank vegetation.\n\nBut who is that woman who is wringing her hands, and calling and\nweeping by turns, as she runs to and fro among the chaos of undergrowth\nand the ledges around? It is the wife of the charcoal-burner, and she\ncalls for her two children, who have wandered away and become lost in\nthis wild region. It was early morn when they strolled forth to\nplay\u2014Edith and Winnie, both little toddlers, and quite helpless\u2014yet the\nsun is on the rim of the horizon and they cannot be found.\n\n\u201cCoo-ee, coo-ee!\u2014Winnie\u2014Edie, my darlings, where are you? Oh, where are\nyou?\u201d cries the poor mother; and her voice grows faint and weary as she\ncalls to the echoing cliffs about. She becomes aware that some one is\nanswering her as she is about to retrace her steps to the hut. The\nvoice is far off at first, but it becomes gradually nearer and nearer,\nuntil a rough mountain goat with long horns presents itself before her.\n\n\u201cI am here. What do you want with me?\u201d it said, bowing itself before\nher.\n\nIt was a beautiful animal, with a soft, white, silky fleece, and large,\nkind-looking eyes, while its voice sounded so full of sympathy that the\nsuffering mother answered readily,\u2014\n\n\u201cOh, sir! I have lost my two children; pray tell me, have you seen\nthem?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have seen them,\u201d answered the goat. \u201cAnd if you have sufficient\ncourage to follow my advice they shall soon be restored to you. I am\nthe guardian sprite of this glen, which my race have occupied since the\nFlood. Here on this mountain are two kingdoms; the one on the surface\ncalled Love; the other, beneath the surface, termed Hate. We are ever\nat war with each other; therefore, I am here to serve you. Learn, O\nmortal, that Croak and Gloom, of the lower world, have stolen your\nchildren, and they have hid them within the bowels of the mountains.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen they are dead, and I shall never see them more,\u201d replied the\nwoman, falling on her knees and weeping bitterly.\n\n\u201cI have said they shall be restored to you again,\u201d replied the goat\nquickly. \u201cMy power is far mightier than the whole nation of Hate\ncombined. Have you faith that I can help you?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d she answered, \u201cbecause Love is stronger than Hate.\u201d\n\n\u201cGood. Extend your hand and pluck a tuft of hair from my right side,\nroll it in your fingers, then twist it round your finger above your\nwedding-ring.\u201d\n\nThe charcoal-burner\u2019s wife did as the goat desired her, but she had\nscarcely finished before the animal vanished from her sight, and she\nfelt herself bodily lifted up, and borne away over the deep ravine, and\nacross over-hanging cliffs and the tops of tall trees, and away down\ninto a yawning chasm, which seemed like a deep and bottomless well.\nDown, down, she went swiftly, yet with an easy, sliding motion that was\nnot at all unpleasant, while she felt no fear, save for the fate of her\nlittle ones. She had a feeling of a powerful presence being near and\nabout her\u2014extending from the finger on which was twisted the goat\u2019s\nhair round and round her person, and beneath her feet, like the strong\nnet-work of a balloon. Even when the void grew dim and black, a strange\nglow, emanating from the ring, lit up the darkness and revealed to her\nwondering eyes many earth-bound treasures. Here gleamed thick seams of\ncoal, and there slabs of tin and copper ores, and beyond these shone\nwhite masses of stone, like marble, with thick veins of gold therein,\nwhich sparkled athwart the woman\u2019s eyes, and made her almost forget her\nchildren, so great became her desire to possess some of it While she\ncogitated she suddenly became conscious that she was upon her feet,\nstanding before a large cavern gate, guarded by a tall griffin, who\ncried out the moment he espied her, \u201cWho dare enter into the realm of\nHate?\u201d\n\nAnd the woman answered quickly, \u201cLove. Love dares everything, because,\nbeing pure, it is fearless. I have come to demand my children.\u201d\n\nThe monster laughed at her, and advanced with a large stone to dash out\nher brains; but the white goat, transformed now into a handsome youth,\nwith a sharp, gleaming sword in his hand, advanced boldly to the\nrescue, and soon defeated the grim warder, took his keys without more\nado, and opening several doors, led his companion through a labyrinth\nof caves until they reached a second gate guarded like the first, the\nwarder having the body of an ass and the head of a wolf. \u201cWho knocks at\nthe gates of Hate?\u201d he said fiercely.\n\n\u201cLove,\u201d answered the valiant fairy, waving his sword.\n\n\u201cLove isn\u2019t wanted here,\u201d replied the monster. \u201cBegone! Or I will kill\nyou both.\u201d Whereupon he opened the gate and advanced towards them; but\nthe elfin engaged him at once, and so great was his power that he\noverturned the creature in a moment.\n\n\u201cNow, Malice, I have thee,\u201d cried the brave sprite sternly. \u201cYield up\nthy keys and get thee hence, and hide thyself, together with Envy, at\nthe outer gate, for if I find you here on my return I will slay you\nboth.\u201d\n\nMalice gave up his keys and ran howling along the rocky caverns of the\nplace; while Love, the elfin, led the woman onward through a catacomb\nof dismal vapour, which ended in a series of arched chambers, draped\nand festooned with sheets of solid gold. The horrid creatures who\ninhabited the place were hideous and frightful to behold. Some had two\nheads, others were without legs or arms; many crawled like snakes, and\nnot a few presented the appearance of being half man and half beast.\nThese monsters fled in all directions at the sight of Love, and so he\npassed onward unmolested until he came to Cavernous Hall\u2014the palace of\nCroak and Gloom\u2014and here he found the two great chiefs of Hate with the\nchildren, Winnie and Edith. The hall was filled with the rank and\nfashion of the nation to see the wonderful mortals of the upper world;\nand into their midst walked Love and the woman hand-in-hand.\n\n\u201cWho are these strange people?\u201d cried the terrible voice of Gloom,\ngrasping the little ones in his arms, for they had uttered a glad cry\nat sight of their mother.\n\n\u201cMy children! Oh, give me my children!\u201d pleaded the woman.\n\n\u201cMortal, how came you here?\u201d inquired the grim Croak.\n\n\u201cIt was I who guided her hither,\u201d answered the elfin.\n\n\u201cThen thou shalt die,\u201d exclaimed the vast throng, as with one voice.\n\n\u201cNot all your hosts of this dim region nor your power can destroy me.\nDash me to pieces against the rugged walls of your palace, burn me to\nashes, and scatter them to the vapours, still I shall rise up stronger,\nin some other form to give you battle. Give the woman her little ones.\u201d\n\n\u201cBeware! Let the race of this mortal give us back our stolen treasures.\nThey have invaded our domain, and have rifled it of some of its richest\ntreasures. Through soil and rock and granite they have delved down,\ndown into this under world, until we could hear the ring of their\ntools. And we have seen them change our dim regions into a wilderness.\u201d\n\nWhile Croak uttered these words the elfin glided swiftly forward,\nseized the children, and placing them safely in the mother\u2019s arms,\ncried hurriedly, \u201cBegone; run to the outer gate, and my power shall\nbear you company and carry you swiftly to the upper air. Quick!\u201d\n\nAnd the woman, pressing her babes tightly to her throbbing bosom, fled\naway, and rising through the mists which obscure the lower world,\nregained the hut on the cliff; while Love battled with the legions of\nHate, and battles with them still\u2014ay! and will battle with them to the\nend of time.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nBABY\u2019S VISITORS.\n\n\nOpen the window, wide. How serene and peaceful it is out yonder, where\nthe stars gleam and sparkle\u2014some faint and small as a diamond speck,\nothers large, clear, and dazzling, as the eyes of angels gazing through\nthe dim void earthward to that little room where Baby sleeps the sleep\nof death. It may have been the shadowing of that radiance, attendant on\nthe sinless ones, whom we call angels, which had cast athwart the\ninfant\u2019s features a sheen of glory, and changed them into the seeming\nof a sleeping cherub, or perchance the immortal glow that shimmered,\nwidening and circling as it fell, was but the forerunner of that\ncelestial band who bridge space and suffer little children to go unto\nHim!\n\nSee the mother kneeling beside her dead babe, her slender frame\nconvulsed with agony. Not a tear, not a sob, that breaks forth for her\nlost darling but freights its newly awakened soul and holds it backward\nfrom the angels. How can it soar while the kindred spirit below wails\nits absence, and every moan shouts, trumpet tongued, \u201cCome back! Come\nback!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was my world,\u201d she says, \u201cmy whole world, and it has gone from me\nlike a vision. Alas! Common things live on; earth\u2019s mighty heart still\nthrobs! Creation lifts its voice in sea and air, and in the world\u2019s\ngreat mart. Music, life, and motion are everywhere, save in my babe.\u201d\n\nAlas! for thee, fond mother, whose vision mounts no higher than the\nbaby\u2019s cot. Alas! for thee!\n\nFrail, yet beautiful, were the creatures who entered at the open\nwindow. Softly as kindly thoughts that gathered round the infant\nsleeper in wonder, and laid a ring of flowers about it, until they\nformed a rosy cradle. And then, as the sighing wind or those more\ndelicate strains heard in dreams, the voices of the elfins rose upon\nthe stillness of the night like silver bells.\n\nSolemn was their chant, and weird and fanciful, which anon changed to\nlighter vein and measure. The mourner heard the sounds, and wondered as\nthe cadence rose and fell upon her grief-dulled ears, but the singers\nwere invisible to her.\n\n\n            \u201cNurslings of the summer air\n                Buzz, buzz, here, there.\n              So we! quaint and gay,\n                Antic gambol,\n                  Gnome and Fay.\n\n            \u201cWhispering to the smiling moon,\n                Trill, trill, \u2018Come soon.\u2019\n              So we! quaint and gay,\n                Antic gambol,\n                  Gnome and Fay.\n\n            \u201cAs the breezes come and go.\n                Hum, hum. Just so.\n              So we! quaint and gay,\n                Antic gambol,\n                  Gnome and Fay.\u201d\n\n\nAs a single drop of water contains things with life and being, which\ncannot be seen with the naked eye, so in space dwell the creatures of\nthe imagination, both wise and beautiful, being full of love and\nsympathy for mankind and goodwill towards women and young children.\nShow me a selfish, disobedient boy, or a naughty girl, who ever saw a\nfairy. You can\u2019t. I defy you to produce one. But many a bright youth\nand pretty maiden, who love truth and obedience better than play or\nlollies, can testify that the lovely persons who came to them in dreams\nwere the same who now stood round the cradle of the dead baby.\n\nHow these wee people had loved it, and had kept watch and ward over it,\never since they had espied it in its basket cradle downstairs! Fresh\nfrom the mysterious star-world, of which they knew nothing, they had\nmarvelled at it, and had crowed and cooed and sung to it, until it had\nbegun to know them, and answer after its fashion, and laugh, and shake\nits fat, dimpled fists and crow too.\n\nHow they had watched it when it slept, and filled its tiny brain with\ninnocent visions pure as the setting sun! How they had caused their\nmagic to mantle its slumber, and the little rosebud mouth to open out\nin smiles! How silent and still now! No smile parts the pale lips. Not\nall the witchcraft in Fairyland, nor all the songs sung by sprite or\nfay to fretful babyhood, can lift but even one slender hair from those\ndrooping eyelids which shroud the dim, blue eyes.\n\n\u201cBaby\u2019s dead,\u201d said one, and \u201cDead, dead, dead,\u201d repeated all the elfin\ncircle.\n\n\u201cLet us bear it hence unto the open glade. The bright beams of the\nmorning sun will bring back its look of gladness, and we shall hear its\nvoice again.\u201d\n\n\u201cAy, bear it hence,\u201d replied the chorus.\n\nCradled in the wild flowers they had spread around it, the elfins\ncarried off their silent burden, and laid it gently within a scented\ngrove, and as the glorious morn broke forth to life and gladness, the\nbirds gathered together in the fairy haunt and sang a requiem.\n\nUp rose the sun and filled the dell with golden splendour. Its shining\nbeams spread through the foliage in amber-coloured radiance, and played\nabout the fair head of the dead baby until the creatures around shrank\nback in awe at the sight; but the sun brought no light to its eyes, nor\nsmile to its lips. And so they carried the infant back again within its\nlittle room, and departed wondering.\n\nOh, weeping mother, whose bitter tears have drenched thy baby\u2019s winding\nsheet, had\u2019st thou faith even as a grain of mustard seed in the Master,\nthou couldst see above thee, beyond that cold, dead clay, the forms of\nangels bearing thy little one to eternal rest.\n\nOh, ye parents, shall I preach to you, as well as to your children? Ye\nwho, when your daily task is done, sit brooding o\u2019er the loss of some\nfondly remembered child, now sleeping its long sleep in death, take\nheart if ye have loved it; then it is not dead, but lives again within\nyou. Love cannot die, for it is as immortal as the soul. Like Jacob\u2019s\nladder, it is the broad pathway from Paradise to earth, by which our\nlittle ones come back to us in visions and in dreams to give us\nassurance of the tender care of God.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nRUBYWINGS.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nTHE JOURNEY.\n\nCome with me for an hour, out of the hard, stony by-ways and hot, dusty\nthoroughfares of this work-a-day city.\n\nMount behind me on the broad wings of this carrier-bird, which most men\nhave, yet which no mortal hath ever seen! Sit close and fear not, for\nour pillion is soft and easy, the steed safe. Now mount and away!\n\n\n       \u201cWhere silvery songs of bird and bee,\n        Of leaf and lake and stream,\n        Round us hum and flit and flee\n        While we linger silently\n        In our noon-tide dream.\u201d\n\n\nNothing but ice! Walls of it, peaks, spires, towers, grottoes, floors.\nIce everywhere! It is of all manner of delicate hues\u2014pale green and\nblue; and where the edges catch the sun it shines even brighter than\nthe glitter of a thousand clustering diamonds. This is Silverhaze, the\nborder of Fairyland. The King of Silverhaze stood at the ice-bound\nportal of his kingdom, when he observed the approach of a very old man.\nThe gait of the mortal wayfarer was slow and feeble, and he often\npaused to rest ere he reached the gates where stood the monarch.\n\n\u201cWho lives here, Spirit?\u201d he asked of the Frost King.\n\n\u201cI,\u201d responded the tall, bearded form, in a sweet voice which sounded\nlike a song heard a long way off.\n\n\u201cWhere is Fairyland, and how am I to get there?\u201d inquired the old\ngentleman in a faint tone.\n\n\u201cYou are standing on the boundary line of the region you seek,\u201d\nanswered the King; \u201cthis is the wall encircling the land of the\nAustralian Elves, O mortal!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat a thick rampart of ice!\u201d exclaimed the old man, curiously\ninspecting the great white barrier.\n\n\u201cTrue,\u201d answered the Frost King. \u201cThis wall is made from the dew and\nrain of Earth that are not delicate enough to moisten the tender grass\nof Elfland. I catch the mists as they wreathe themselves upward, and\ndivide them; that which has touched and been tainted with the under\nworld I build up into these icy walls; that which is pure as the\nmorning cloud floats on into the country where you are going.\u201d\n\n\u201cThank you; may I wander onward?\u201d\n\n\u201cAy! Few come here to break my repose. I live here alone. Continue your\njourney onwards towards Moonrise, and you will see all you want.\u201d\n\n\u201cShall I see everything, O King Frost?\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, that will depend on yourself. If you can fling away from you\nevery thought that is not fit for the pure mind of an innocent child,\nthen shall you behold wonders.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas! great King, I am afraid I cannot do that. Who can, who can? In\nmy youth I never heard of this glorious Fairyland. Childhood, young\nmanhood, mature age, were all spent by me in getting and hoarding\nmoney; and now the time is drawing near when I must depart; but ere I\ngo I want to view the silver mosses and green slopes of these regions.\u201d\n\nThe old man bent low before the Ice Monarch, whose cold blue eyes\nchanged to flashing steel.\n\n\u201cI can help you,\u201d he answered. \u201cCome here, and let me touch your\nforehead. If you wish it in your heart, I will draw from you your\nmemories and thoughts, and send you a child into Fairyland. Your past\nwill lie here for you in my ice cave, a burden or a blessing, for you\nto resume as you go out.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow, a burden or a blessing?\u201d asked the mortal.\n\n\u201cThat again will depend on yourself; according to what you see in your\ntravels will your past seem to you on your return.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you said I should see all.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will have the power of seeing all, yet you will only see that\nwhich you care to look upon.\u201d As the Frost King spoke, he advanced and\ntouched the mortal\u2019s brow with his finger. While he did so there glided\nbeneath the old man\u2019s feet a silver cloud-car, which instantly\nenveloped him and carried him away from the ice-clad border with the\nswiftness of a sea-gull. Amazement grew upon him as he felt himself\nborne away and no visible thing in view. Then remembering what the\nSpirit had said, he exclaimed aloud, \u201cCan I not see what is about me?\u201d\n\nThe words were hardly uttered when he perceived that he was the\noccupant of a gorgeous conveyance drawn by a team of butterflies, with\na lovely child seated therein driving them. Wonderful indeed the\ndelicate tints and shades which the moonbeams had woven in her robes.\nStill more wondrous the blended purity and beauty of her face.\nExquisitely, deliciously soft and musical the voice that addressed him\nin accents like the soft south wind, wooing the trees at summer\u2019s\neventide.\n\n\u201cWelcome, Sir Mortal. Welcome to Elfland.\u201d\n\n\u201cDear child, art thou a fairy?\u201d he cried in surprise.\n\n\u201cYes! My name is Rubywings,\u201d she answered, with a beaming smile.\n\n\u201cRubywings,\u201d he repeated. \u201cIt is a delightful name, my child; but why\ndo they call thee Rubywings?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause I am Queen of the Butterflies,\u201d she replied; \u201cand because I am\nalso the messenger of Peace and Charity to the good of the Earth.\nInvisible to all else of mortal birth am I. Peace! Let us onward.\u201d\n\nBrilliantly flashed the wings of the butterflies as they wafted the\ncloud-car, light and joyous as the golden orioles that flew before\nthem. Here they fluttered among curious rocks of veined and marbled\nstone, here and there soft mosses, which grew in little clumps, some in\nscales, like trays on which stood silver cups for the fays to drink out\nof. Then ferns peeped out with their long tresses that blew backwards\nand forwards in the wind. A trickle of water began to flow from a deep\ncranny, and tall plants blossomed along its course. Suddenly they came\nupon a wide, beautiful plain, robed with such lovely, silk-like grass,\nonly to be found in these regions. Here tall palms tossed their\nfeathery heads, while creepers, bearing flowers, streaked with gold and\nbrown, climbed about their trunks.\n\nStill onward, with but a passing glimpse at the emerald carpet beneath,\nuntil they reached a fine lagoon, in the midst of which an island\nappeared to view, so fair and beautiful that the rest of the landscape\nturned bleak and barren by comparison. Over this wondrous place\nRubywings guided the cloud-car. Landing where a mossy bank sloped\ngently to the water, the fairy led her companion into such a charming\ngarden that a burst of rapture broke from his lips at sight of it. The\nmost refined imagination of mortal man never conceived such a world of\nrare beauty. No seasons came and went here, the flowers bloomed\neternally. Like a jewelled crown encircling the brows of a queen, so a\nvast ring of pale blossoms surrounded this bower of loveliness\u2014primrose,\nwith her beseeching face, shy snowdrop, loving violet, with her whisper\nof summer, glad hyacinth, ringing a peal of bells, whose faint tinkle\ncame upon the mortal\u2019s ears, like subdued melody.\n\nRubywings pointed out a soft couch of ferns, bordered with lilies, and\nsaid,\u2014\n\n\u201cRest thee here awhile, O mortal. Sleep, dream, bewilder thyself. When\nthou wakest, thine eyes shall open upon the ministering spirits of\nNature, which I go to bring around thee.\n\n\n              \u201c\u2018Bi baby bunting,\n                I am going hunting\n                For the shadows as they fly,\n                For the winds to waft them by;\n                Bi baby bunting!\u2019\u201d\n\n\nEre her childish song had ended Rubywings vanished, and the mortal fell\nasleep.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nSHADOWS.\n\nThe old mortal, whom the fays had christened Ready Money, slept soundly\nin that island garden into which he had been guided by Rubywings. And\nas he slumbered, behold the Fairy Queen approached with a golden wand\nin her hand. She stood over him and gently waved the wand to and fro,\nwhen lo! the flowers around and about instantly assumed the shape of\nfrolicsome sprites who formed themselves into a vast ring about him.\nAgain Rubywings lifted her enchanted staff, and the trees receded\nbackwards in the distance as so many drifting clouds athwart the\nhorizon. And waving her wand for the third time, a sudden darkness\nshrouded the island save where the man reposed.\n\nRound that clear, circular space, bordered by the crowded ranks of the\nelves, there shone a brilliant, steady, silvery light, brighter than\nthe sun and softer than a moonbeam.\n\nRubywings stooped and whispered in the sleeper\u2019s ear. And as she did\nso, the magic ring widened and widened out, until at length it appeared\nto encompass the whole landscape. The beautiful light increased\nsimultaneously with the wonderful expansion of the garden, thereby\nadding a tenfold beauty to every object upon which it rested.\n\n\u201cBehold, mortal, this is the valley of the shadows. First lift thine\neyes,\u201d cried the fairy.\n\nReady Money obeyed, and saw much clearer than with his waking sight.\nInto the shimmering ring there glided the Monarch of the Shadows. He\nwas not at all black or gloomy. Not in the least\u2014his manners were soft\nand engaging, and his robe was decorated with all kinds of delicate\ntints, brown and silver-grey, and violet shaded with faint blue and\nazure. All the fays bowed down reverently before him, because they knew\nhe was the greatest Shadow in the land. Painters loved him and made\ncharming pictures of him, and poets sang of him and wrote songs in his\npraise, and yet neither painter nor poet could tell how great, how\nmagnificent and glorious he was.\n\nTroop by troop, rank and column, the Shadows came out of the ravines,\nvalleys and dells, and from the clefts in the hill sides, and from\namongst the rocks, and approached the King in due order and gave an\naccount of their several missions.\n\nSome told how they had spent their time in sick rooms, where people lay\ntossing in pain, and how they had rested the eyes of many a weary\nsufferer, and shielded them from the glaring light, and how sometimes\nthey had gathered thickly round them and lulled them into health-giving\nsleep. Others spoke of travellers far from home, who, longing to see\ntheir wives and children or friends once more, had been comforted by\nthe Shadows, who took upon themselves the dear home figures and the\nscenes of home.\n\nThe mortal listened eagerly to every word uttered by these ministers of\nNature. Hitherto he had believed that Beam and Shadow alike had no\nlife, any more than the particles of dust beneath his feet, and were\njust as useless. What sick couch had he visited? What heart comforted?\nWhat good accomplished for the benefit of his kindred? Why, the very\nShadows, dim and soulless as they were, had done more good than he had\ndone, and Ready Money trembled as the thought came home to him. One\ngrand fellow bent his tall form before the Shadow King and said that\nwhen the summer sun waxed hot and fierce over the Australian Continent\nhe cast himself across the fiery pathway of the burning rays, thereby\nrefreshing many a broiling citizen, and making cool and restful shade\nbeneath tree and hill, and giving beauty to field and stream, by\nthrowing lovely, translucent shadows over them, and so bringing out to\nfull perfection the form and colour of all created things.\n\nThen there advanced Shadows of a gloomier, darker hue. Drooping,\ncareworn, and sorrow-laden, they had come from the houses of the very\npoor, from courts of justice, from prison cells where criminals sat in\nsilence and despair. Many had come from homes where there was no love\nof parents; where wives and husbands were at strife; where fierce\nwords, and cruel blows, and hard usage were the rule of daily death in\nlife. Others had just left places of business, where men, who ought to\nknow better, toiled year after year to increase their wealth, striving\nafter gold, lying and cheating for it, holding it tightly when they had\nit, and shuddering as the time drew near when they must go hence and\nleave it all to others.\n\nIf these Shadows, fresh from counting-houses and cobweb-covered\nchambers, wherein sat men faded and wan, as the colourless walls around\nthem, if they had been the Shadow only of this listening mortal, they\ncould hardly have presented a more realistic picture of his life in the\npast than they did in their report of others.\n\nLying there powerless, there came upon him a strong desire to get back\namongst his fellow-men if it were only for one short month\u2014nay, but\nonly the length of a brief day; for in it what good might be done and\nwhat atonement made! Alas! for our resolution. Ready Money was fast\nheld beneath the influence of the wand of Rubywings, and therefore\ncould not budge.\n\nWhen the grim Shadows rested, there came an altogether merrier group\nupon the scene. These related how they had given their attention to\nschoolrooms, alarming idle boys and girls by bringing the Shadow of\ntheir teachers upon them just in the middle of a game of romps. Others\nagain had had rare fun with naughty little folks who were going to help\nthemselves to sugar and jam, by looking over their shoulders and making\nbelieve that some one was coming.\n\nNext the house Shadows took their turn, and showed how they engaged\nthemselves, by making pleasant figures on the floor and walls, dancing\nin the firelight, and playing bo-peep in the curtains on winter\nevenings. When all the reports were finished, the King called to the\nWind to dismiss the Shadows.\n\nThen the Wind came, and the Shadows, ere they took their departure,\namused themselves as they liked best. In the most surprising manner\nsome played leap-frog, hide-and-seek, and blind-man\u2019s-buff. Others\nraced along the sward and up the side of the hills, like so many\nwill-o\u2019-the-wisps; many changing into all kinds of strange and\nfantastic shapes, until the silver light dimmed and died out, and the\nbeautiful garden resumed its grandeur as before.\n\nAnd a change came o\u2019er the slumbering mortal. Slowly he opened his\neyes, but the fairy with her enchanting wand was not there, nor the\nflowers and trees. Nothing, save the high boundary wall of ice and the\nwhite-bearded Frost King standing near.\n\n\u201cResume thy earth-woven memories, O mortal!\u201d he said in a grave, solemn\ntone. \u201cStand upright that I may touch thee. So! Go thy way for a brief\nseason. In thy daily wanderings here and there thy former friends shall\nnot recognise thee! From henceforth, Greed, Selfishness, Envy, and all\nof that nature that were dear to thee, shall become thy bitter foes.\nRemember what the Shadows said. Farewell!\u201d\n\nDown, earthward, with tottering and uncertain step went the mortal;\ndownward, along the broad, sunny pathway, where innumerable birds sang,\nand trees waved, and where the low, hoarse murmur of bread-winning\nmillions ascended to the Creator.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nLIFE AND DEATH.\n\n\nOnce upon a time an old man and a fairy sat by the wayside talking.\n\n\u201cWhen the world was first created,\u201d said the elfin, \u201cit was appointed\nhow many years each creature should exist. So the horse came and\ninquired how long he was to live.\n\n\u201c\u2018Thirty years,\u2019 he was told, and then was asked, \u2018Is that sufficient?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Alas!\u2019 replied the beast, \u2018that is a long time. Think how many\nwearisome burdens I shall have to carry from morning to night beneath a\nhot sun, that man, my master, may eat bread and live at ease, and I\nreceive nothing but blows and hard words, and must yet keep always\nactive and obliging. The time is too long. Take away some of my years,\nI pray.\u2019\n\n\u201cSo the horse was pitied, and a life of only eighteen years was\nappointed to him. Whereupon he went gladly away; and the dog then made\nhis appearance and asked,\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018What is the duration of my life?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018How long do you wish to live?\u2019 was inquired of him. \u2018Thirty years was\nallotted to the horse, but that was too much for him; perhaps you will\nbe satisfied with that term?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Do you think so?\u2019 answered the dog. \u2018Remember how much I shall have\nto run and bark and bite. My feet will not last the time, and when I\nhave lost my voice and my teeth, and can neither bark nor bite, what\nwill then be for me but to crawl and howl from one corner to another?\u2019\n\n\u201cTherefore the dog\u2019s plea was granted, and twelve years appointed for\nhis age. After which he departed and made room for the monkey.\n\n\u201c\u2018You will live thirty years willingly, no doubt,\u2019 was said to the ape.\n\u2018You need not work like the horse or the dog, and therefore will always\nbe well off.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Indeed, it should be so\u2019 replied Jacko, \u2018but I have found it\ndifferent. Mine is anything but a life of indolence. I must always be\naping my betters, and making comical faces for people to laugh at. Many\na hard nut I have to crack. And as sadness is often hidden beneath a\ngrin, so have I to show my teeth, even if they are aching with pain.\nPlease shorten the years of my life.\u2019 So ten years were allotted to\nhim.\n\n\u201cLast of all man appeared, healthy and vigorous, and requested a term\nto be appointed to him.\n\n\u201c\u2018You shall live thirty years,\u2019 was the reply. \u2018Is that enough?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018What a short time!\u2019 exclaimed the man. \u2018Just when I shall have\ncleared my land, built myself a house, and lighted a fire upon my own\nhearth, and I am thinking of enjoying life, I must die. I pray let my\nlife be lengthened.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Very well. The eighteen years of the horse shall be added.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018That is not sufficient,\u2019 said man.\n\n\u201c\u2018You shall have also twelve years of the dog\u2019s life thereto.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Still too little,\u2019 replied the man.\n\n\u201c\u2018Then you may have the ten years allowed to the monkey, but you must\ndesire no more.\u2019\n\n\u201cMan was then obliged to leave, but he was not satisfied.\n\n\u201cThus man lives seventy years. The first thirty are the days of his\nmanhood, which pass quickly away; he is then strong and lusty, works\nwith pleasure, and rejoices in his being. Then follow the eighteen\nyears of the life of the horse which brings in its train burdens which\nhe must bear from the rising to the setting of the sun, and wherein\nblame and abuse often reward him for his labours. Next come the twelve\nyears of the dog, during which man has to sit in corners, because he\nhas lost the power to bark and bite. And when this time is up the ten\nyears of the monkey bring the close of the scene, for in these man\nbecomes foolish, gabbers and jabbers without end, and is fit for\nnothing but\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\nThe elfin paused, and gazed earnestly at the mortal.\n\n\u201cBut what?\u201d cried the old man.\n\n\u201cBut\u2014Death. The portal which leads into the vast unknown, and from\nwhich we elves are debarred,\u201d responded the fairy.\n\n\u201cAnd what is Death?\u201d\n\n\u201cA certainty, O mortal, for all thy race. No more or less than that.\nEre I go hence from thee for ever hear this fable:\u2014\n\n\u201cIn olden times a giant wrestled with this terrible enemy Death, and\nvanquished him. As the grim foe lay helpless by the wayside he began to\ngrumble. \u2018What will be the consequence of my downfall to the world? If\nI lie here, then it will be so full and crowded with humanity that they\nwill not be able to move for each other.\u2019\n\n\u201cJust then a young man came up the road, strong and healthy, singing a\nsong, and looking well about him. As soon as he perceived the conquered\none he went up to him, and compassionately raising him, bound up his\nwounds, and nursed him until strength returned.\n\n\u201c\u2018Do you know who I am?\u2019 asked Death, when he was fairly on his legs\nagain.\n\n\u201c\u2018No,\u2019 replied the youth. \u2018I know you not.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018I am Death,\u2019 he replied. \u2018I spare no one, and can take no excuse from\nyou even. But to show you that I am not ungrateful, I promise not to\ntake you unawares, but I will send my messengers before I come and\nfetch you.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Very well,\u2019 said the young man, \u2018that is a bargain. Until your\nharbingers come I shall be safe from you.\u2019\n\n\u201cWith this understanding the mortal pursued his way merrily, and lived\nin prosperity for some time; but youth and health will not remain for\never. Pain and sickness and grief came, and the man complained that\nthere was no rest for him night or day. \u2018I shall not die,\u2019 he said,\n\u2018for Death must first send his messengers; but I wish these fearful\ndays of illness were over.\u2019\n\n\u201cHealth returned again, and he began to live as usual. One day,\nsomebody knocked at the window, and looking round he saw Death standing\nbehind him. \u2018Follow me,\u2019 he said.\n\n\u201c\u2018How so?\u2019 exclaimed the mortal. \u2018Will you break the promise that you\nmade to me, that your servants should first give me notice ere you\nappeared? I have not seen them.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Be silent,\u2019 replied Death. \u2018Have I not sent you one messenger after\nanother? Did not fever come and seize you and lay you prostrate? Did\nnot racking pain oppress your limbs, noises sound in your ears, a\ndimness cover your eyes? Above all, did not my twin brother, Sleep,\nremind you every night that I should come?\u2019\n\n\u201cAnd the man knew not what to reply, and was therefore taken away.\u201d\n\nWhen the elfin had thus spoken he vanished from the mortal\u2019s view.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nGIANTS.\n\n\nI, Martin Crowe, am a book-loving vagabond. Reading hath charms for me\nnot to be found in men or women. My few quaint volumes are my\ncompanions and my friends. True, I cannot borrow money from, or use\nthem according to my worldly necessity; nevertheless, they speak to me\nin many voices, some in tones of deep wisdom, others in the witchery of\nsuggestive imagery, until my humble study, with its scanty furniture\nand bare walls, vanish altogether from my outward senses.\n\nIt is late. On this long winter night I have been deep into the pages\nof the famous astronomer, Newton; and although I have laid down the\nbook before me on the table, my mind is still busy at the threshold of\nthe mysterious realm of Nature, to which I have been introduced by the\nwand of the magician. If knowledge is power, it sometimes happens that\nthe power does not bring happiness in its train, but often assumes\nstrange shapes. As I sat and looked with vacant eyes at what, for the\nmoment, I saw not, behold the table before me became gradually\nluminous. At first the light was flickering and uncertain, rising and\nfalling in a shapeless mass, but it quickly brightened into a\nspiral-shaped luminary, which presently assumed the form of a venerable\nold man.\n\nI cannot venture an opinion as to the means employed by my strange\nvisitor for his entrance into my chamber, any more than you can explain\nto me the manifestations of clairvoyance and electro-biology.\n\nFrom the first appearance of the light, and during the subsequent\ngradations which qualified my vision to discover a personage with the\naspect of a seer of the olden time standing at my side, I have no clear\nidea of anything save that of being held by an all-powerful spell\ntowards him. I had studied animal magnetism, and curative mesmerism\nunder Tom Buckland, and knew a thing or two with reference to passes,\ncurrents, and counter-currents, but I found my will ebbing away before\nthe steady fingers and calm eyes of the stranger, whose stronger\ninfluence seemed to wrap me round and round as with a band of steel,\nutterly powerless to speak or move, except at the will of my companion.\nYet I felt my sensations in rapid play to all around me. Nay, more, the\nsense of hearing and observation seemed marvellously quickened within\nme, and the intensity of thought brightened from the gross element\nwhich had previously partially obscured it. The shape found voice, and\naddressed me:\u2014\n\n\u201cYoung man, I am the guardian of Nature\u2019s chief secrets,\u201d it said,\nreplying to the unasked question on my lip. \u201cMen call me Knowledge, but\nmy name is Science. What dost thou want with me?\u201d\n\nI found the power of speech return to me ere the last words were\nuttered.\n\n\u201cLet me behold some of Nature\u2019s secrets,\u201d I cried eagerly.\n\n\u201cThou art a bold mortal.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am earnest. Even as the aspiring thoughts that meet me in this book,\nI would soar and know.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course,\u201d replied the voice. \u201cAlthough I come to thee in fairy form\nand guise, I am the servant of thought. It was not the uttered word\nthat did summon me, but the force of the inward wish to understand\nwithin thee. Well, I am here. If thou wouldst see some of the giants of\nthe future, follow me.\u201d\n\nI had no will but to follow him, as he led the way out of the doorway\ninto the silent night, under the whispering trees beyond the city,\nacross the bridge of the river, and away to the summit of a hill, with\nthe waves of the gulf thundering at its base.\n\n\u201cAll human knowledge commences in dreams,\u201d he said in a low tone.\n\u201cTrance hovers over measureless secrets, and forms the first faint\nbridge between them and thought. Look steadfastly on the moon yonder.\u201d\n\nI obeyed in silence. I had no power otherwise than to obey. As I gazed,\nthe pale orb of night appeared to expand and dilate until its luminous\ncircumference diffused all space, and in the midst of this shining\natmosphere I became aware of a strange sense of heavenly liberty\npervading my whole being. It seemed as if hitherto I had been bound\nwith a strong chain, which had suddenly snapped asunder, and had\nyielded me unutterable freedom from the body, and had imparted a\nbird-like lightness which floated me into space itself. Through this\nspace a swift succession of shadowy landscapes rolled; mountains,\ntrees, cities, ships, and inland seas glided along, like the drifting\nclouds seen in a stormy sky, until at length, settled and stationary, I\nsaw a vast cave in the heart of a gloomy forest.\n\n\u201cEnter, and beware of Fear,\u201d cried the voice at my side. At the sound\nthe ecstasy and lightness which had been upon me faded away, and a sort\nof languor seized my frame, without communicating itself to the mind.\n\nDownward by a stairway of rugged rock I was led into what seemed a\nterrible abyss. Round and round in spiral form we descended for many\nmiles, amid noises loud and new to me, when our farther progress was\nabruptly stopped by a massive door formed in the solid rock, and which\nwas guarded by monsters of various shapes, called Ignorance. Erect and\nthreatening they rose to crush me, but at sight of my conductor they\nfell down again in abject submission and opened the door; whereupon we\npassed into a mighty cavern, so wide and so lofty that its magnitude\nastounded me, its limit reaching far beyond my range of vision. Here I\nbeheld huge giants, mightier than ever appeared in legend or fairy\ntale. Many were toiling hard, some lay reclining, as if just awakened\nfrom a deep sleep; while others slumbered peacefully. Dim and\nindistinct as the light here glimmered, I could see the ponderous\nshapes plainly. With the will to question my guide came the power of\nspeech.\n\n\u201cWho is yonder fellow,\u201d I asked, \u201cseated astride the trident rock? What\nhuge limbs he has!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is young Australia,\u201d replied the voice. \u201cThe ages have cradled\nhim. He is only a baby awakened out of his first sleep. I predict the\ninfant will develop into a magnificent giant by-and-by,\u201d rejoined the\nvoice.\n\n\u201cWhat is the name of this powerful-looking creature here with the\ngigantic head?\u201d I inquired, pointing to a monster who seemed but just\nawakened from a long nap.\n\n\u201cElectricity. It is a name but little known as yet,\u201d replied the sage,\n\u201cbut your children will see this new land filled with its wonders. You\nsee the giant has only been disturbed, not awakened.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy do they not rouse him up to action, O wise sage?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause the time for him to use his great and varied powers has not\ncome,\u201d answered the voice gravely. \u201cPowers wrested from Nature for the\nbenefit of mankind may be also turned into a scourge for the innocent.\nA Titan war is waging ever among men, the good for ever on the\ndefensive, the bad for ever in assault. Perchance \u2019tis well the giant\nsleeps.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is another giant standing near Electricity, whose proud look I\nhave often noted on the faces of men I have met. Who is he?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is called Money, otherwise Cash, often Hard Cash,\u201d replied the\nvoice in answer. \u201cTruly he is a powerful fellow. Sometimes great and\ngod-like in his liberality, at other times he is mean and selfish. Mark\nwhat an affinity between him and the prostrate monster. In the far-off\nfuture, I see them hand-in-hand together, working a wonderful change on\nthe face of Nature and in the condition of mankind.\u201d A faint smile\npassed across the features of the sage as he uttered the words.\n\n\u201cOne question more. Pray tell me the name of yon noble creature who\nseems as though he were able to prop the globe single-handed?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, that is the twin brother of young Australia, and his name is\nEnterprise,\u201d added the voice proudly. \u201cUp and doing, early and late,\never active and daring in speculation. Australian Enterprise has\npromised that this, his country, shall be the commercial focus of the\nearth some time in the future, which shall also uprouse these\nslumbering giants.\u201d\n\nThe voice ceased speaking; but another voice, well known to my waking\nears as that of my landlady, filled the vacuum, with the following\nchoice sentence:\u2014\n\n\u201cMr. Crowe, I hopes you remember that I\u2019m a widder with five innercent\nchildren to keep, and can\u2019t afford to let you fall asleep and burn\nevery drop of ile out of the lamp for a guinea a week, washing\nincluded! There now!\u201d\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE KANGAROO HUNTER.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nTHE LOST DRESS.\n\nHis hut stood on the border of a vast and unknown tract of bushland,\naway north. Why he had removed from all traces of his fellows to lead\nsuch a lonely mode of life we cannot pretend to explain. All we know is\nthat he was a tall, handsome young fellow, and known to a few of the\nout-station boundary riders as Bob, the Kangaroo Hunter.\n\nOne day Bob had chased a fine old man kangaroo that he had wounded\nfarther than usual into the trackless depths of the bush. As he was\nreturning homeward along the margin of a small lagoon he perceived an\narticle of very fine linen lying on the sand. Our hero came to a dead\nhalt, and stared at the article in question, with as much astonishment\nas if a white elephant had presented itself in his path. He took up the\nlinen, and the more he examined it the more puzzled he became at the\ndiscovery. Bob was a capital shot, and could track game like a\nblackfellow, but the finding of a piece of soft cambric in such a\nsolitary region bothered him completely. After supper he sat and\nthought over it, but gave it up by-and-by and went to bed.\n\nSomewhere in the dead of night the hunter was awakened by a voice\ncalling him by name. He could not see anything, for it was quite dark,\nbut he felt as if it were some one moving up and down over his bunk,\nand at the same time a soft, gentle voice repeated, \u201cBob! Bob! Bob!\u201d\n\n\u201cHere I am,\u201d he answered. \u201cWhat do you want?\u201d\n\n\u201cPlease give me back\u2014my\u2014my\u2014dress,\u201d replied the voice in hesitating\ntones.\n\n\u201cEh? what?\u201d cried our hero, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. \u201cWhat did\nyou say? Your dress?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you please,\u201d continued the voice pleadingly, \u201cthe article you found\non the shore of the lake yesterday\u2014it is mine. Pray return it to me.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh!\u201d said Bob, \u201cwhy, that was a lady\u2019s\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cI know it,\u201d rejoined the voice quickly. \u201cOh dear. It is mine. I am a\nlady.\u201d\n\n\u201cPray wait one moment, madam, and I will strike a light.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is useless. You cannot see me, I am invisible,\u201d replied the voice.\n\n\u201cIndeed!\u201d ejaculated Bob, \u201cthat is a pity. However, I will return to\nyou what I found upon one condition.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat condition?\u201d\n\n\u201cTell me who you are.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas! I am the daughter of a mighty chief, whose race and dominions\nare far beyond the \u2018Lubra Mountains,\u2019 but I have fallen into the power\nof a wicked magician, who has confined me on the highest summit of the\nGranite Cliff. Every day I am allowed to bathe in the lake accompanied\nby an old hag called Mother Growl; but I cannot return without\nmy\u2014my\u2014dress. Yesterday I was obliged to stay by the lake, and I\u2019m\nafraid the cruel witch will kill me if I\u2019m detained here much longer.\u201d\n\nThe low, plaintive voice touched the heart of our hero, who replied,\n\u201cRest easy, poor child. Here is your garment. Yet ere you depart tell\nme if I can help you out of the hands of your enemies.\u201d\n\n\u201cCan you climb the Granite Cliff, which is as steep and smooth as a\npolished rod of steel? You cannot. Farewell!\u201d\n\n\u201cStop! Where there\u2019s a will there\u2019s a way,\u201d said Bob. \u201cWith your\npermission, I mean to try and do it; but I never heard of the Granite\nCliff. Where is it?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe path lies beyond the lake towards the plains,\u201d answered the voice.\n\u201cYet do not attempt to go, for there are horrid birds and beasts who\nwill devour you. More I dare not tell you.\u201d So saying, the voice died\naway in the stillness of the night. The warning uttered by the voice,\ninstead of deterring the young hunter from approaching the dreadful\ncliff, only made him the more determined to make an effort to rescue\nthe lady from her thraldom. At the break of day he arose and loaded\nhis gun, slung his pouch\u2014containing powder and ball\u2014over his shoulder,\nput some food in his bag, and started off for the lagoon. He traversed\nthe country beyond the lake for some considerable distance without\nmeeting a living thing and, feeling hungry, seated himself beneath the\nshade of a large tree to eat his dinner. He had not been seated many\nminutes when a gigantic bird alighted overhead and eyed him with some\nattention. Bob observed it was as big in the body as an emu, with broad\nwings, long beak, and talons like an eagle. Our hero had seized his gun\nfor a shot, but he dropped the weapon as the bird called out in a\nhoarse tone,\u2014\n\n\u201cHello! Who are you?\u201d\n\nThe hunter was dumb with surprise, but at length found voice to reply,\n\u201cI\u2019m a traveller.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, and what are you eating?\u201d said the bird.\n\n\u201cKangaroo,\u201d answered Bob, smiling.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m very fond of kangaroo. Can I dine with you?\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly,\u201d replied our hero; \u201ccome down and I\u2019ll share with you.\u201d\n\nThe strange bird did not wait for the invitation to be repeated. In a\nvery short time he devoured the lion\u2019s share of the lunch, and he and\nour hero became very friendly.\n\n\u201cWhat kind of bird are you?\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m a gum-hawk,\u201d cried he, stretching his huge wings. \u201cWe are the\ngiants of the feathered tribe hereabouts.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are a monster,\u201d responded Bob in admiration. \u201cI suppose you are\nquite strong enough to carry a man like me?\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019d carry two such as you,\u201d answered the gum-hawk quietly. \u201cOnly try\nme.\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps I may,\u201d said Bob. \u201cDo you know a place named the Granite\nCliff?\u201d\n\n\u201cRather; are you going there?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d answered Bob, \u201cif I may depend on you to convey me so far.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course I will, with pleasure; one good turn deserves another. Get\non my back,\u201d and ere our hero knew what he was about the bird rose with\nhim into the blue void high above the tree-tops. Bob held on tightly,\nbut without feeling at all alarmed at his dangerous position. From his\nelevated post he had a splendid view of the surrounding country. Far\nahead in the distance he beheld a colossal peak, standing darkly out\nabove the surrounding hills. Its sides were almost upright, and shone\nin the sun like polished marble.\n\n\u201cWhat mountain is that yonder?\u201d he inquired of the gum-hawk.\n\n\u201cMountain! That is the Granite Cliff.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have a large piece of kangaroo still left in my pouch,\u201d rejoined the\nhunter after a pause. \u201cThe meat shall be yours if you set me down on\nthe summit of the cliff.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t go there,\u201d answered the gum-hawk in a warning voice.\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause it is the home of wicked people, who will kill you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have no fear on that head. Will you have the meat?\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly, if you are determined,\u201d and the friendly bird, finding that\nour hero was resolved, flew to the apex of the rock, and there left\nhim.\n\nThe summit appeared quite different to what one would have imagined it\nto be from the plain. It seemed to the eyes of Bob a small island in\nitself. There was a wide, clear space whereon stood an old stone house,\nand before its door a very large water-hole, and behind a dark belt of\ndense bush, which almost obscured the setting sun.\n\nThe young hunter saw neither man nor beast; all was still, save the\nnoise of the wind among the trees, while close above his head the\nclouds were rolling along.\n\nBob stepped up to the door of the hut and gave it a hard thump with his\ngun. Immediately an old woman with red eyes and a brown face opened it\nShe had goggles upon her nose, and looked at him sharply before she\nasked him how he came there.\n\n\u201cA gum-hawk took me up in his talons and dropped me upon this\nmountain,\u201d responded Bob readily.\n\n\u201cWell, what do you want here?\u201d\n\n\u201cEntrance, my supper, and a night\u2019s lodgings, dame.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat you shall have, but you will have to earn what you get here by\ndifficult work on the morrow.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am prepared,\u201d said Bob.\n\n\u201cVery well. Come in,\u201d she cried, and immediately closed the door.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nQUIZ.\n\nThere was nothing extraordinary within the house on the Granite Cliff.\nIf Dame Growl had any suspicions with reference to the visit of our\nhero, she kept them to herself. Bob was provided with a good supper,\nand a bed afterwards, where he slept as sound as a cockroach until the\nmorning. The sun had hardly begun to peep over the top of the mountain,\nhowever, when the old woman shook him roughly by the arm. \u201cGet up, you\nsluggard!\u201d she cried. \u201cYou don\u2019t remain here and eat idle bread; you\nmust work\u2014work!\u201d\n\n\u201cAll right, dame,\u201d responded Bob cheerfully. \u201cI\u2019m not afraid of work in\nany shape.\u201d\n\nThe witch laughed grimly, thereby disclosing her black, ugly teeth.\n\u201cOh, you are a wonderful fellow, but we can match you here; we\u2019ll make\nyou work\u2014work!\u201d\n\nShe hobbled off into an adjoining room, and returned with an old\nbattered thimble, which she held out on her skinny forefinger. \u201cHere,\ntake this,\u201d she cried. \u201cNow go, and empty the water-hole out there.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat! with a thimble?\u201d cried Bob.\n\n\u201cYes; and you must finish your task before evening; also take out all\nthe small fish, and range them according to their species on the bank.\nDo you hear?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course, good dame. Anything besides?\u201d asked the hunter with bitter\nirony.\n\nMother Growl disclosed her teeth at him in answer, and left him to his\ntoil.\n\nPoor Bob stared at the water-hole for a good half-hour, without seeing\nwhat his gaze rested on. He had expected some reasonable work, but here\nhe was set to do an impossibility. The hole was a very large one;\nalmost as wide as the mouth of a river. How then was he to bale it out\nwith a thimble? It appeared very absurd; nevertheless, our hero was\ndetermined to try. He began his work, but he found it labour in vain.\nWhen noonday came he stopped, and sat down to rest. \u201cIt\u2019s quite\nhopeless for me to try and empty out all this water to-day. Why, it\nwould take me a thousand years to do it at this rate,\u201d he cried,\nraising his voice. \u201cIndeed, I don\u2019t see the use of making a fuss about\nit; it will be the same whether I work or not. I wonder where the witch\nhas hid that lady that came to my hut?\u201d And with this new turn to his\nthoughts Bob sat by the water-hole and made circles in the water with\nthe pebbles at his feet.\n\nAs he sat there and shied the stones into the water-hole, he heard some\none cry out as if in sudden pain! Bob stared around and about him, but\nhe could see no one.\n\n\u201cOh dear! you have struck me on the head!\u201d exclaimed a voice.\n\nThe hunter rose quickly to his feet \u201cWho and what are you?\u201d he cried.\n\n\u201cCan\u2019t you see who I am? Look here, on the water,\u201d repeated the voice.\n\nOur hero turned his gaze in the direction indicated, and beheld a large\nfrog swimming towards him.\n\n\u201cPray who are you, sir?\u201d inquired Bob, filled with amazement.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll tell you that presently,\u201d responded the frog, as he crawled up\nthe embankment. He was a fine, speckled fellow with a big head, long\narms and legs, and a considerable paunch, which showed that he was fond\nof his food.\n\n\u201cI was just taking my usual mid-day bath when my ears caught your\nreproaches with respect to emptying this lake,\u201d said the frog, at the\nsame time bowing very politely to Bob. \u201cMay I ask if you seriously\nintend to attempt the task?\u201d\n\nThe young hunter briefly explained the whole circumstances of the case.\n\nFroggy listened quietly, and then replied, \u201cBe content. I will help\nyou.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow can a frog help any one?\u201d cried Bob contemptuously.\n\n\u201cWait and see. I am not a frog as you suppose. This skin is a bathing\ndress, nothing more. They are very fashionable in Elfland at present.\nOf course the robe is not elegant, but it is comfortable. How do you\nlike it?\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you a fairy?\u201d inquired Bob, not heeding the last remark.\n\n\u201cI am that. Everybody round here knows Quiz the Sprite. I\u2019m Quiz.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! I\u2019m sorry that stone hit you on the head.\u201d\n\n\u201cNever mind. It didn\u2019t hurt me much,\u201d answered Quiz. \u201cNow allow me to\nhelp you with your task.\u201d\n\n\u201cCan you really help me?\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly. Old Dame Growl is no friend of mine; and I have those with\nme who can execute any tasks she may find for you to do, no matter how\ndifficult they may be.\u201d\n\nAs Quiz spoke, he opened his speckled covering, and out stepped three\nlittle men, no bigger than one\u2019s thumb. The first was slim and slender,\nwith a very resolute face, the other two were strong and robust.\n\n\u201cThese creatures may appear to you quite insignificant,\u201d continued the\nsprite, \u201cbut they are not so. Stand aside and watch what this, the\nsmallest of them, can do.\u201d Saying which Quiz made a sign for Bob to\nretire a few paces; which he did.\n\n\u201cNow, Resolute, give us a taste of your quality, by emptying out that\nwater-hole,\u201d cried Quiz.\n\nEre the words had left the elfin\u2019s mouth the wee man advanced, and\nsaid, \u201cOut, water\u2014out, fishes,\u201d and immediately the water rose in the\nair like a white vapour, and rolled away with the other clouds; while\nthe fish all jumped out and arranged themselves on the bank according\nto their size and species.\n\n\u201cWell done, Resolute!\u201d shouted Bob, in ecstasy.\n\n\u201cDame Growl will set you harder tasks to-morrow than this one,\u201d resumed\nthe sprite. \u201cYet keep good heart, and I will help you to accomplish\nthem and to rescue the chief\u2019s lovely daughter from her hands.\nTo-morrow I shall see you again.\u201d\n\nAnd with another polite bow, Quiz gathered the wee little men beneath\nhis skin, and hopped away to a deep crevice in the cliff, where he\nvanished from sight.\n\nWhen evening fell the Witch came forth from the house leaning on her\nstaff.\n\n\u201cAh, sluggard!\u201d she cried, \u201cif you have not done the work I gave you I\nwill have you thrown head-foremost from the cliff.\u201d\n\nBob laughed, and pointed with his finger to the lines of fishes and the\nwide, empty water-hole.\n\nDame Growl held her skinny arms aloft in amazement.\n\n\u201cWho has done this task for you?\u201d she shouted in unbridled passion.\n\u201cTell me who it was, and I\u2019ll have them boiled, roasted, and baked for\nmy husband\u2019s dinner.\u201d\n\n\u201cI sha\u2019n\u2019t tell you anything, dame,\u201d answered Bob. \u201cYou gave me a job\nto do; there it is done, according to order, and now I want my supper,\nplease.\u201d\n\nThe old woman looked silently and maliciously at him for several\nminutes, and then replied, \u201cVery well, very well; doubtless you are a\nwonderful fellow; but I have a task in store for you to-morrow which\nwill tax all your cleverness to accomplish. You got off too easily\nto-day. Wait till to-morrow.\u201d\n\nBob followed her as she went towards the hut, muttering under her\nbreath and shaking her staff at some imaginary foe. He ate his supper,\nlike a man who was hungry, and then retired to rest for the night.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nA SLEEPING BEAUTY.\n\nWhen morning dawned, the enchantress conducted Bob to that belt of\ntrees before mentioned and which was situated to the rear of the hut.\n\u201cSee here, my son,\u201d she said, with a wicked leer, which made her face\nlook positively odious; \u201cyour task to-day will be to cut down every\ntree on the cliff\u2014split and cut the timber into short lengths; then you\nmust pile the whole into one great stack, so that we may have a beacon\nto light the night hereabouts.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs that all?\u201d answered Bob, with self-feigned contempt. \u201cWhy, dame, I\ncould stand on my head and do all that.\u201d\n\nShe shot another evil glance at him from beneath her shaggy brows. \u201cI\ncare not how you stand,\u201d she replied, \u201conly the work I have given you\nmust be finished before evening. You came here on a very foolish\nerrand, but you do not return without your lesson.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat errand, dame?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo rescue my prize. The maiden who lost her robe, eh?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe lady is here, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cAy, and likely to remain here, foolish boy,\u201d she cried. \u201cGet to\nwork\u2014get to work. Faint heart never won fair lady. Ho! Ho! Hi! Hi!\u201d\nWith these words she gave him an axe, wedges, and a mallet, then\nhobbled away to the hut.\n\nBob gazed after her with a confident smile on his handsome face. \u201cNone\nbut the brave deserve the fair,\u201d cried he as he set to work at his\ntask; but at the first blow he discovered that his axe was only lead,\nand also that the wedges were made of tin.\n\n\u201cThis is too hard,\u201d he muttered angrily. \u201cThe affair with the thimble\nwas bad enough, but this promises to become a trifle more interesting.\nWhat\u2019s to be done now? I can\u2019t fell trees with a leaden axe, or split\nlogs with tin wedges, that\u2019s certain. Well, I may as well take it easy\ntill the fairy comes; he\u2019ll help me out of it all right.\u201d With this\nphilosophical view of things our hero stretched himself full length\nbeneath a huge gum to await his friend.\n\nThe morning had become intensely hot and sultry, therefore it was much\nmore pleasant in the shade than felling trees in the full glare of the\nsun. So Bob thought, as the morning waned apace, and the heat grew more\nintense. Noontide found the young hunter still reclining in the shade,\nand not a tree down. If they had given him a proper set of tools he\ncould have made a start at all events; as it was, he could only strain\nhis eyes looking for Quiz to make his appearance, and he was growing\ntired even of that. Try as he would, he could not keep from nodding.\nThe deep stillness, the oppressive heat, together with that low,\nbuzzing, sleep-producing sound of insect life, appeared to draw down\nhis eyelids as if each of them had been freighted with a four-pound\nweight. In the midst of his torpor, however, Bob felt a sharp pinch on\nhis leg. Looking up, the first thing upon which his gaze rested was a\nvery tiny lady dressed all in red. Close by stood a magnificent little\ncarriage, from which the lady had evidently just alighted. Such a\nsmall, funny conveyance Bob had never seen before. It was constructed\nentirely of wild flowers, and drawn by six well-matched locusts, in\nlieu of ponies, with a butterfly for a coachman. By the side of the\nlatter Bob recognised the two little men whom he had seen with Quiz the\nsprite.\n\n\u201cPray, what are you doing here?\u201d inquired the small lady in shrill\ntones.\n\n\u201cAlas, madam,\u201d replied Bob, \u201cI came here to attempt the rescue of a\nlovely maiden, who is under the spell of Dame Growl, the witch of this\ncliff.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! And why do you not rescue the lady, instead of slumbering away\nyour time here?\u201d cried the fairy.\n\n\u201cIndeed, dear lady, the power of the enchantress can only be broken by\nthe performance of certain very difficult tasks, which I am quite\nunable to perform without help.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat will you give me if I aid you?\u201d inquired the tiny lady.\n\n\u201cTwenty kisses,\u201d answered Bob promptly.\n\n\u201cAgreed! I\u2019ll take the kisses first,\u201d she said, with a rosy blush.\n\nThe pair of wee men on the box turned away their heads while our hero\npaid his hire, and the gaudy coachman got down from his perch to adjust\nthe traces which had caught round one of the leader\u2019s legs.\n\nAfter what had happened, it appeared quite natural for Bob to hand the\nlady to her carriage, and, still further, to accompany her along the\nopposite side of the rock, chatting, smiling, and nodding pleasantly by\nthe way until the butterfly coached the team down a broad cleft that\nformed an avenue to a small cave.\n\nThe tiny lady conducted the young hunter within; where he beheld one of\nthe most lovely damsels lying asleep upon a marble couch. The sleeper\nseemed so divinely beautiful, that our hero stood speechless with\nadmiration.\n\n\u201cHere slumbers the beauty whom you seek,\u201d she said.\n\n\u201cHow lovely!\u201d responded Bob, clasping his hands together. \u201cI will\nawaken her.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, you cannot,\u201d replied the fairy. \u201cWhile the witch lives this fair,\ninnocent maiden will remain under the spell of the enchantment.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet us go and kill the witch,\u201d urged Bob.\n\n\u201cHush! That would be a worse crime still. Have patience yet a little\nwhile. Dame Growl will be punished ere long, and by the very means she\nhas devised for your overthrow. And now be good enough to follow those\ntwo mannikins to the place where I met you. They are brave workers, and\nwill soon accomplish your task. When it is finished, return hither with\nthem.\u201d\n\nAt a sign from her the wee men departed, followed by the young hunter,\nwho marvelled at the beauty of the sleeping maiden.\n\nSince the days when our sturdy forefathers cleared the land to build\ntheir huts, the sun had never looked down on such extraordinary\ntree-felling as that which the two dwarfs began on the Granite Cliff.\nFrom the point where Bob stood, it appeared as if innumerable giants\nwere at work. Crash! crash! crash! was heard on all sides; and, still\nmore wonderful, to note that the trees were no sooner down than they\nseemed to roll asunder to the desired lengths, and to split without the\naid of mallet or wedges, and then to hop away like so many imps and lay\nthemselves into a vast heap.\n\nLong before the evening our hero saw the task completed; but the dwarfs\nhad not finished yet. With the same amazing despatch they gathered\ntogether all the dry leaves and the dead timber, and piling these\nagainst the stock, they set fire to the whole mass.\n\nIt was not long ere a mighty conflagration arose which wrapped the apex\nof the mountain in a sheet of fire. The forked tongues shot upward to\nthe clouds, and across the space where the house stood, until it was\nseen as in the midst of a furnace.\n\nThe hunter hastened back to the cave when the flames began to ascend.\nAs he reached the place, a great shock seemed to rend the cliff\nasunder.\n\n\u201cWhat is that?\u201d he cried.\n\n\u201cIt is the death of the wicked enchantress, Dame Growl,\u201d answered the\nwee lady. \u201cThe fire has enfolded her in its embrace, and so her power\nis at an end. See! the sleeping beauty is awakening from the spell.\u201d\n\nWhile the fairy uttered the words, Bob saw the maiden stretch out her\nshapely arms and fold them about her golden locks, and at the same time\nshe sighed deeply.\n\n\u201cApproach, mortal,\u201d continued the fay, with a smile. \u201cTouch her lips\nwith thine, so shall it rouse her into waking life; for upon whom her\nbright eyes shall first rest there will her love take root and abide\nfor ever.\u201d\n\nAnd the youth kissed the budding, rosy mouth, and as he did so, behold!\nthere opened to his gaze a vision of Paradise.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE LAUGHING JACKASS.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nLOST IN THE BUSH.\n\n\u201cHa-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!\u201d roared the laughing jackass. It was a glorious\nmorning in the heart of the bush. The warm sun glinted athwart the\nbranches of the trees and cast festoons of light beneath, as if some\ngigantic magic lantern was at work.\n\nThe mocking bird of Australia sat perched upon the highest bough of a\ngiant red-gum and looking down beneath upon the form of a wee urchin\nlying prostrate on the turf, sobbing as if his little heart was\nbreaking.\n\n\u201cHa-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!\u201d laughed the merry jackass, making the bushland\nring again with its mimic jeers.\n\nThe boy under the tree ceased sobbing and looked up. \u201cIt\u2019s a fine thing\nto laugh when one\u2019s in trouble,\u201d he said, espying the long ugly beak of\nthe scoffer pointing down towards him. \u201cI\u2019ll bet if I only had my\nShanghai I\u2019d soon make you laugh t\u2019other side of your mouf.\u201d\n\n\u201cHo-ho-ho!\u201d chuckled the jackass in reply.\n\n\u201cOh, it\u2019s no use troubling about a silly bird,\u201d muttered the child\nsadly. \u201cHe can\u2019t help me. Oh, I wish he could!\u201d And the sobbing\nrecommenced more intensely than before.\n\nPoor Berty Wake was lost in the bush\u2014lost utterly. For two whole days\nthe child had wandered on and on hoping to find his way back again to\nthat section on the back blocks which his father farmed and where he\nhad been born. For two days the child had not seen a sign of\ncivilisation, nor any form of life whatsoever, save a native bear, one\nor two wallabies, and this mocking jackass, who seemed to add to the\npoor wanderer\u2019s grief by its unseemly laughter.\n\nBerty, who was one of five brothers, had been sent early in the\nmorning, by his father, to hunt up an old roan mare, who had a great\nlove for straying away in the bush. The boy had been diligent in his\nsearch, but could find no trace of the pony anywhere; and when he began\nto track back home again night came on, and the boy found he was astray\nin the trackless waste, with not a single point or landmark to guide\nhim.\n\nPoor Berty! how he coo-eed and called on his mother and his father, and\nthen cried himself to sleep under the big gum-trees, and when daylight\ncame again walked on and on, bravely hoping to find the track to guide\nhim home again. No use though. Here he was the beginning of the third\nday, tired and hungry and much deeper in the lonesome wilderness than\nbefore.\n\n\u201cHo-ho-ho!\u201d laughed the jackass.\n\n\u201cIf I only had something to eat\u2014just a piece of bread\u2014wouldn\u2019t it be\nnice!\u201d said the lost one, sighing ruefully.\n\n\u201cOr a mince-pie!\u201d cried a voice from the tree-top.\n\nBerty Wake jumped to his feet. \u201cWho\u2019s that?\u201d he cried.\n\n\u201cHo-ho-ho!\u201d laughed the jackass hoarsely.\n\n\u201cWho spoke?\u201d repeated the child, with an hysterical sob; \u201cplease say\nthat again\u2014mince-pie, wasn\u2019t it?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd jam tart,\u201d added the voice again, but sounding much nearer than\nbefore.\n\nPoor Berty clapped his tiny hands in delight. \u201cAh! It\u2019s some one come\nat last,\u201d he cried.\n\n\u201cYes, Berty Wake, it\u2019s me!\u201d gurgled the bird in a deep, guttural tone,\nat the same time dropping down on a broad limb of the tree just over\nthe boy\u2019s head. \u201cHere am I, Jack the Rover\u2014otherwise, Laughing Jack, as\nmy pa calls me.\u201d\n\nFor fully a minute the boy stood gaping at the strange bird, too much\nastonished to utter a word.\n\n\u201cWas it\u2014was it really you who talked just now?\u201d he said, with a quaver\nof fear in his voice.\n\n\u201cWhy, of course it was,\u201d said the jackass, whetting his beak in a\nreflective way and shaking his huge head to and fro.\n\n\u201cOh!\u201d cried Berty, \u201cI know you can laugh and whistle, but I didn\u2019t know\nyou could talk. Where did you learn?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn a cage on the Murray River,\u201d replied the bird, laughing loudly. \u201cI\nbelonged to a squatter named Wake\u2014Stephen Wake. He took me out of a\nnest when I was a wee urchin like you and taught me all I know.\u201d\n\n\u201cGood gracious! Why, you can\u2019t be our Jack?\u201d cried Berty joyfully.\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s just what I am; Jack the Rover. Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!\u201d replied\nthe bird, ruffling his feathers in great glee. \u201cEver since my wings\nhave grown I have taken flights from the station when it suited me.\nYesterday, I heard you were lost in the bush; so I came after you on my\nown account, and found you asleep under this tree.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are a very kind fellow, Jack,\u201d said poor Berty with tears in his\neyes and in his voice.\n\n\u201cNot half so kind as you have often been to me, my boy,\u201d replied the\nbird gravely. \u201cDon\u2019t you remember when Tom nearly broke my legs with\nthe bullock hobbles how you nursed and fondled me, and gave me tit-bits\nof sugar and cream, and hid me in the stable loft until I was well\nagain? Ho-ho-ho!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is wonderful,\u201d cried the child, with wide-open astonished eyes.\n\n\u201cNot at all. There is nothing wonderful in kindness, Berty Wake. That\nis natural. The wonderful part lies in gratitude, my dear. Gratitude\nmoved me to find you, if you were alive. Now here we are.\u201d\n\nLittle Berty laughed, and the bird followed suit with interest.\n\n\u201cI suppose you are hungry?\u201d said the bird.\n\n\u201cPlease don\u2019t mention it,\u201d responded the wee fellow, with wistful look.\n\u201cYou haven\u2019t really a mince-pie anywhere about, have you?\u201d\n\n\u201cHaven\u2019t I though!\u201d answered Jack, with his hoarse laugh. \u201cJust be good\nenough to follow me over to yonder peak. I\u2019ll show you.\u201d Saying which,\nJack the Rover alighted on the ground, hopping in very stately fashion\ntowards the spot indicated, our little hero following.\n\nHalting before the hollowed trunk of a huge tree, the bird began to\nscatter a mound of leaves within the cone, and lo! there came to view\nthree lovely pies.\n\n\u201cSit down, Berty, and eat,\u201d said the jackass.\n\n\u201cYou\u2019ll find them very fresh and nice. I took them from the larder at\nthe station yesterday, while your father and brothers were out hunting\nfor you.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, I shall be glad to get back home again, Jack.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s all right. There\u2019s such a lot of people out after you, but they\nwon\u2019t find you, Berty. Jack the Rover shall have the pleasure of\nguiding you home again.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome here, Jack, and let me kiss you,\u201d said the child. \u201cWon\u2019t you?\u201d\n\n\u201cHa-ha-ha! The idea. You can\u2019t kiss with your mouth full of pie.\nBesides, what will the trees say?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe trees. Can they know?\u201d cried the boy, with surprise.\n\n\u201cCan\u2019t they!\u201d said Jack the Rover confidently.\n\n\u201cThe trees talk to me. Listen! Don\u2019t you hear them\u2014the rustling of the\nleaves against each other in the breeze? That is how they talk.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd can you understand what they say, Jack?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course I can, Berty. They are whispering something to me now.\nSomething that I want to know very much.\u201d\n\n\u201cTell me what they say, Jack.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey say that you must sit here beneath their protecting shade and\nfinish your pies,\u201d said the bird solemnly. \u201cIf you stir from beneath\nthese trees before I return, you will be totally lost to those you\nlove, and die a dreadful death in the bush.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you going to leave me, Jack?\u201d\n\n\u201cOnly for a short time,\u201d said the bird assuringly. \u201cFinish your repast,\nand wait patiently till I return. I won\u2019t be long away.\u201d Saying which\nthe laughing jackass mounted on the wing and was soon lost to view.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nEMU ROYAL.\n\nBerty Wake sat under the trees and waited. Around him rose gigantic\nridges of bare rock, rent and torn in quaint shapes, representing\ntowers, peaks, and spires; riven cliffs, dells, moss-grown and webbed\nand festooned with finest drapery of ferns and wild flowers.\n\nIt seemed a long time to the anxious child, straining his eyes,\nwatching for the return of the friendly jackass. Then in utter\nweariness the little watcher became drowsy, his heavy eyelids closed,\nand he slept.\n\nHow long he remained asleep he could not tell. Something touched his\nface and he awoke.\n\nStanding before him he saw a fine, strong emu\u2014full-grown, with a soft\ncrimson saddle fixed between its wings, and a bridle on its head and\nround its beak glittering with precious stones.\n\nThe boy rubbed his eyes to make certain he was awake, and touched the\nhuge bird with his finger. The talking jackass seemed commonplace in\ncomparison with this wonderful picture. However, Berty had little time\nto indulge in his astonishment, for Jack the Rover, from the thick\nbranches of the tree, commanded him to mount the curious steed.\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t ride an emu. I shall fall off,\u201d cried poor Berty in some\nalarm.\n\n\u201cWhy, I thought an Australian could ride anything,\u201d echoed the jackass,\nwith a loud peal of laughter. \u201cDon\u2019t be afraid, my little man: Emu\nRoyal is a safe animal and warranted not to buck.\u201d\n\nEmu Royal bowed in a stately way at the compliment, and Berty Wake,\nover-coming his surprise, caught hold of the silken reins and sprang\nupon its back.\n\n\u201cHa-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho! Isn\u2019t it funny?\u201d laughed the jackass from the\ntree-top. \u201cNow on we go. I\u2019ll lead the way, and do you follow me, Emu\nRoyal. Quick march!\u201d\n\nNo bush-bred horse ever sped over the ground so easily and speedily as\nEmu Royal. At first poor Berty had some difficulty in keeping his seat,\nthe mode of transit was so queer and unusual, but he soon became\naccustomed to the long swinging stride of the gigantic bird, who seemed\nto know his way through the intricate windings of the scrub without any\naid whatever from Jack the Rover; for that knowing blade sailed\nsmoothly on the wing high overhead, and appeared to have no other\npurpose in life than to scare the young parrots from their nests with\nhis demoniacal laughter.\n\nThey went swiftly along, every bump and jolt and bound of the strange\nsteed seemed to say, \u201cBerty Wake\u2019s going home. The lost is\nfound\u2014Berty\u2019s coming home.\u201d\n\nHills and plains, lakes, and forests of trees appeared and went by them\nlike a drifting cloud.\n\nThen, suddenly, they emerged into a quiet dell, ringed in by tall\ngum-trees, where the grass was emerald green, and soft to the tread as\na carpet of velvet pile. Here, without the least warning, the emu gave\na sudden spring in the air, and lightly deposited our little hero on\nthe broad of his back on the sward; and before Berty was aware of what\nhad happened, Emu Royal had vanished from his sight.\n\nThe boy rose to his feet and looked about him; there was no one in\nview, not even the laughing jackass. Then he laughed in childish glee\nand clapped his hands.\n\n\u201cWhy, this is Fir Tree Hollow,\u201d he said, half laughing, half crying.\n\u201cDon\u2019t I know every bush and sapling in it? And there\u2019s the sheep track\nleading to the river, and the dray road that winds round the back of\nour fence. Why, I\u2019m at home again. Coo-ee! Coo-ee!!\u201d\n\nA reply came to his call in the shape of a shrill neigh from a\nneighbouring copse.\n\n\u201cGracious me! That\u2019s our old mare. I know her dear old whinny out of a\nhundred. Coo-ee!\u201d\n\nAnd the child ran scampering off, and came forth presently, leading by\nthe forelock a roan quadruped which showed ample signs of recognition.\n\n\u201cWhere have you been hiding yourself?\u201d cried Berty, fondling the pony.\n\u201cDon\u2019t you know I\u2019ve been hunting for you everywhere and got lost, eh?\u201d\n\nAnother neigh, and the roan rubs its cold nose up and down the little\nfellow\u2019s shoulder.\n\n\u201cAh, none of that, you old Greasehorn, I\u2019ve had some trouble to find\nyou; but \u2018better late than never\u2019 as dad says. Now won\u2019t they be\npleased to see me? and shan\u2019t I be glad to see them?\u201d\n\nVaulting on the back of the pony, the pair jog along the wheel track\ntowards the station. Turning a bend in the track, boy and pony come in\nview of a party of men, tired to death, and who have been out hunting\nfor the lost one.\n\nA loud, glad shout of recognition, and the next moment poor little\nBerty is in the strong arms of his father, whose voice is husky with\nemotion as he mutters a prayer of thankfulness intermingled with his\npassionate kisses.\n\n\u201cWhere did you get to, my son?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, a long way, mother. It was the laughing jackass who found me.\u201d\n\nMother and father exchange glances.\n\n\u201cThe child has had a touch of the sun,\u201d says the latter, stroking\nBerty\u2019s curls.\n\n\u201cWhere did the jackass find you, boy?\u201d\n\n\u201cUnder a big gum-tree such a long, long way off,\u201d responds the child,\nextending his arms. \u201cThen he brought a emu\u2014such a big fellow, with a\nsaddle and bridle, you know\u2014and he brought me all the way to Fir Tree\nHollow.\u201d\n\nStephen Wake shakes his head.\n\n\u201cPut him to bed, wife,\u201d he says quietly; \u201cthe poor child is not\nhimself. A good night\u2019s sleep will set him all right again.\u201d\n\nAnd Berty Wake slept well. In the early morning, however, he arose and\nwent out into the stable yard, where the laughing jackass nodded on his\nperch.\n\n\u201cHallo! Jack the Rover,\u201d he said, saluting the bird.\n\nThe laughing jackass opened its sleepy eye and gazed meditatively at\nthe boy for a few moments, then broke out into its hearty guffaw:\n\u201cHa-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!!\u201d\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nHOP-O\u2019-MY-THUMB.\n\n\nEvery one who knew Tiny Thumbcake loved him. He was one of eleven\nbrothers and sisters, and the smallest mite that was ever born in the\nland of the cornstalk.\n\nTiny, though very diminutive in body, was nevertheless a hardy fellow\nwho could run and jump like a kangaroo; moreover, he possessed the gift\nof knowing the language of all animals and birds, and these nicknamed\nhim \u201cHop-o\u2019-my-thumb.\u201d\n\nThe Thumbcakes were poor people, and Tiny, who loved the wild bush,\ndetermined to try his fortune as a pioneer squatter. In conversation\nwith an old wallaby, who used to pay him periodical visits, Tiny\nlearned that there was a vast district owned by a giant aborigine named\n\u201cSlubber,\u201d where no white man had ever been and which was supposed by\neverybody to be a dreary wilderness without river, or lake, or anything\nto sustain life in the way of game. Tiny Thumbcake, or as we shall call\nhim, Hop-o\u2019-my-thumb, was both surprised and delighted at the news\nimparted to him by the wallaby\u2014namely, that the Unknown Country, ruled\nover by Slubber the Giant, was both beautiful and fertile, and one of\nthe finest climates under the Southern Cross.\n\nAnd so in due time, guided by the faithful wallaby, our hero came to\nthe country of Slubber, and took up his abode in a rich and\nwell-watered valley, beside a high mountain, and here he formed a fine\nstation for rearing cattle and sheep. For a whole year our little man\nremained hard at work unmolested.\n\nOne fine summer day a scarlet and green parrot alighted near where the\nlittle squatter was at work on his orchard fence.\n\n\u201cGood-day, Hop-o\u2019-my-thumb,\u201d said the bird.\n\n\u201cGood-day, my friend,\u201d returned the wee man, politely raising his hat\nand bowing. \u201cI\u2019m glad to see you. What can I do for you, eh?\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing at present, thank you. I was sent by King Stork to warn you\nthat Slubber the Giant is on his way here to destroy you,\u201d answered the\nparrot.\n\nPoor Hop-o\u2019-my-thumb, though not wanting in pluck, became much\ndisturbed at the news. \u201cAre you quite certain of what you say?\u201d he\nasked of the parrot.\n\n\u201cOh, quite,\u201d rejoined the messenger decidedly. \u201cKing Stork and the\ngiant are great friends. He heard Slubber say that he would slay you or\nany white riff-raff who dared to set foot in his territory, and saw him\nstart off straightway down the mountain to carry out his threat,\ntherefore I posted off to warn you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThank you very much,\u201d said poor Hop-o\u2019-my-thumb. \u201cSlubber is a big,\nselfish wretch. I have as much right to make a home here as he has, and\nI mean to show him I am not at all afraid of his bullying.\u201d\n\n\u201cBravo!\u201d cried the parrot, flapping his wings in glee. \u201cYou\u2019re a lad of\nmettle, and I\u2019m glad you intend to try and take the blackfellow down a\npeg. Do you know, he is the most vile beast living and a great liar.\nDon\u2019t trust him a bit. If he finds he cannot kill you with his huge\nwaddy, or spear you unawares, he will want to parley with you, and take\nyou on his knee, in friendly fashion. Be careful, Hop, my boy. Don\u2019t\nlet the wretch lay a finger on you, if you can help it\u201d.\n\n\u201cThank you, I\u2019ll take every precaution,\u201d said Hop-o\u2019-my-thumb coolly.\n\n\u201cWe all like you very much, my dear little Hop,\u201d added the bird kindly;\n\u201cwhat is more, we are determined to help you against Slubber if we can.\nYour friend Jack, the wallaby, is waiting behind yonder ridge, with\nsome possum friends and one or two native bears, in case you need\nassistance. Hark! Do you hear that noise? That\u2019s the giant; he hasn\u2019t\nlost much time on the road. Look! Yonder he comes.\u201d\n\nHalf way down the mountain-side a gigantic blackfellow, tall as a tree,\nand with a great woolly head (not unlike the big ball that is hoisted\nat noon on the flagstaff at the Observatory), came thundering down the\nstony ridges in tremendous leaps and bounds, and at the same time\nroaring out a hoarse shout of vengeance. He was quite nude, save for a\nsegment of covering round his middle, and he brandished aloft a\nmonstrous waddy, which was large enough to have felled an elephant.\n\n\u201cWhere is that insignificant rascal who has dared to enter the domain\nof Slubber?\u201d cried the angry monster, striding into the valley and\nconfronting our hero, who did not flinch in the least before his\ndreaded enemy.\n\n\u201cNow, mite, what hast thou to say ere I slay thee?\u201d cried the giant, at\nthe same time whirling his club round his head with a noise like\nthunder.\n\n\u201cTry it,\u201d said Hop-o\u2019-my-thumb, keenly watching every movement of his\nadversary.\n\n\u201cInsolent atom, take that,\u201d and Slubber aimed a blow at the little\nfellow, which if it had taken effect would have crushed our hero into a\npulp; but Hop-o\u2019-my-thumb nimbly avoided the giant\u2019s bludgeon, and\ngetting between the monster\u2019s legs, gave him a cut with a sharp adze he\nhad been using, which made Slubber roar with pain. It might have gone\nhard with the brave wee squatter at this moment, for the giant,\nreaching down, was about to clutch his small assailant, when the parrot\ncame to the rescue. He flew full butt against Slubber\u2019s face and nearly\nblinded him, and Hop-o\u2019-my-thumb, taking full advantage of the bird\u2019s\nhelp, gave his ugly foe such a slashing about his legs that the giant\nfell broadcast on his back, which made the ground tremble like an\nearthquake.\n\nSeeing the unexpected and stout resistance made by our little hero,\nSlubber the Giant was fain to call a parley.\n\n\u201cThou art very strong for so small a man,\u201d cried he ruefully, and at\nthe same time rubbing his smarting shins. \u201cWhat sayest thou, wilt thou\ndo me a service? And in return thou and thine shall have this valley of\nsweet waters for thy pains, to do with it what ye will.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is the service you want to be performed?\u201d said Hop-o\u2019-my-thumb.\n\n\u201cCome nearer, and I will tell thee.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, not an inch,\u201d cried the little fellow stoutly. \u201cYou are near\nenough, my friend. Tell me what I am to do. I can hear you.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, very well,\u201d responded Slubber sullenly. \u201cKnow, then, that I have a\nwife.\u201d\n\n\u201cI wish I had one,\u201d interrupted Hop-o\u2019-my-thumb.\n\n\u201cThou shalt have mine with pleasure,\u201d retorted the giant quickly.\n\nThe little squatter laughed. \u201cNay,\u201d he said, \u201cit is against the law to\ntake anything belonging to another. Well, you were saying you have a\nwife.\u201d\n\n\u201cTrue, I have a wife and, I may add, one of the most inquisitive of her\nsex,\u201d added the giant in quite a humble tone, which contrasted\nstrangely with his previous bombast. \u201cKnow, then, O mite, King Stork\npropounded three riddles to my wife, each one full of mystery, and my\nlife is plagued out of me day and night by her to find an answer to\nthese problems. Now, if thou canst find the secret of these things the\nland is thine for all time.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat are the riddles?\u201d inquired Hop-o\u2019-my-thumb.\n\nThe giant reflected a moment and then replied,\u2014\n\n\u201cThe first is: What is the most wonderful animal in the world? Second:\nWhat shoemaker makes shoes without leather, but uses instead earth,\nwater, air, and fire, and where each of his customers wears two pairs\nat a time? Third: What is seen in the sky, also in the water, and\nsometimes on men\u2019s breasts which, being reversed, is the name for the\nvery worst kind of vermin? Come now, O thou bull ant, canst thou\nexplain these enigmas?\u201d\n\nPoor Hop-o\u2019-my-thumb seemed dismayed for a moment. He wanted to\nconciliate the giant, but how was he to frame a reply to these three\ndifficult questions? In the midst of his cogitations he bethought him\nof his friend the wallaby.\n\n\u201cIf Slubber will give me a little time, I believe I can answer the\nquestions,\u201d said the little man with confidence. The giant assented\nreadily.\n\nHop-o\u2019-my-thumb, guided by the parrot, sought out the old wallaby, to\nwhom he confided his trouble.\n\n\u201cNothing easier, my boy,\u201d said the animal, stroking his head with his\npaw. \u201cA word in your ear. These riddles are the secrets of our King and\nmust not be made known to every one.\u201d\n\nThen the old wallaby whispered what Hop-o\u2019-my-thumb wanted to know, and\nthe latter, smiling, went back to the giant Slubber.\n\n\u201cWell, hast thou the answers, mite?\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cOh yes,\u201d replied our hero cautiously, \u201cbut how am I to know you will\nkeep your word with me?\u201d\n\nThe giant laughed. Then he lay full length upon the sward, and plucking\na long hair from his beard laid it across his nose. \u201cWill that\ncondition satisfy you?\u201d he said in a rage, for Slubber knew he dare not\nbreak that form of oath.\n\n\u201cThen,\u201d said Hop-o\u2019-my-thumb, \u201cthe most wonderful animal in the world\nis a pig; for it is first killed and then cured.\u201d\n\n\u201cGood!\u201d cried Slubber.\n\n\u201cThe next,\u201d continued Hop-o\u2019-my-thumb, \u201cis\u2014What shoemaker makes shoes\nwithout leather? Why, a horseshoer, for he uses earth, air, water,\nfire, in shaping his wares, and each of his customers wears two pairs.\u201d\n\n\u201cBravo! Let me embrace you,\u201d entreated the giant.\n\n\u201cNo you don\u2019t,\u201d responded the little man, with a grin. \u201cNow for your\nthird question. What is seen in the sky, the water, and sometimes on\nmen\u2019s breasts? A star, of course. Reverse the spelling of star and it\nis rats. Are you satisfied?\u201d\n\nAnd Slubber, the black giant, wended his way home over the mountain\nagain, a wiser man; and ever after Hop-o\u2019-my-thumb lived in peace.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nA MAGIC WHISTLE.\n\n\nHere are low green hills and sharply outlined ridges strewn with great\nwhite blocks of quartz, gleaming in the morning sunlight. Adown the\nlong eastern slope for miles there is a vista of park-like forest,\nwhere the wallaroo and kangaroo leap and gambol on the greensward;\nwhere green and gold parrots chatter and scream; where wild bees are\nhumming to the morn, and where the eagle soars calm and peerless in the\nsapphire firmament.\n\nOne solitary figure dots this glorious landscape\u2014a handsome,\nwell-formed boy, with a swag upon his back, tramping slowly along the\nnarrow track like unto one who would fain rest and eat. There is not\nthe sign of any habitation in view; nothing but the matchless sunshine\nand the hills and valleys gleaming beneath in one great halo of golden\nglory.\n\nTowards evening our traveller, emerging upon a lonely glade, threw off\nhis swag and cast himself upon the soft sward and so fell asleep. When\nhe awoke it was night, the dark blue canopy overhead was ablaze with\nstars. Looking round he was greatly astonished to observe the space\nbefore him aglow with a soft, subdued light, which was neither from the\nsun, the moon, nor the stars, but was produced by countless glow-worms\nand fire-flies combined, and who had formed broad festoons from tree to\ntree and so lit up the dell by enchantment.\n\nDamper\u2014for so was the wayfarer named, on account of his fondness for\nthat Australian made cake\u2014rubbed his eyes in great surprise, and also\ngave himself one or two severe punches to make certain that he was\nawake. The poor lad was without father or mother, and had tramped about\nthe bush since he could walk, doing odd jobs for cockatoos (small\nfarmers) and such-like; but a sight like this had never met his view\nbefore. His first impulse was to call out, but his voice refused its\noffice; for at that moment he beheld a troop of black mites, no larger\nthan his finger, march from out the gloom beyond into the radius of the\nlight. They were all sheathed in mail armour and came onward with quick\nand regular step, four a-breast, their shields and spears flashing and\nsparkling like so many rare jewels in the sun. They ranged themselves\nin regular order, shoulder to shoulder, on one side of the dell.\n\nThen there came a second squad, equally tiny in stature, but bravely\nattired in cloth of gold, with miniature swords clashing and banners\nwaving; and these formed up on the sward, opposite the first troop.\n\nAnd lo! as Damper gazed in consternation, there appeared a third group;\nwhite people these, not so tall as a lady\u2019s thimble, without weapons,\nand robed in the most quaint fashions imaginable: some were clad in\ngossamer from head to heel; many had cloaks spun from wild bees\u2019 wings;\nothers were donned in all the gaudy colours of the dragon fly; and one\nand all of them appeared dancing mad.\n\nNow here, now there; in and out; up and down; in whirling mazes, they\nmoved like the sun flashes on some bright instrument, and too quick\nsometimes for the eye to follow their evolutions. It was altogether a\nfantastic scene, and one that the eye of mortal man is rarely permitted\nto look upon.\n\nFor some time poor Damper was beside himself with fear. Fortunately he\nremained very still and quiet, and was enabled to see everything that\ntook place, without the elves being in the least degree aware of the\nmortal\u2019s close proximity.\n\nThe antic gambols were so strange and grotesque that Damper had no\ndefinite idea how long they continued, or who piped the music for the\noccasion. One thing was clear to him, however, that the whole scene\nvanished as suddenly as it appeared, leaving only two of the fairy\nassembly, who without more ado came and perched themselves upon\nDamper\u2019s swag, and began a conversation. This pair, it was evident,\nwere the King and Queen of Elfland, who, after discussing several\naffairs of State, spoke of a magic whistle, hidden away among the roots\nof a certain tree in the dell.\n\nDamper, although he understood and could hear every word uttered by\ntheir Majesties, paid little heed to what they said until the topic of\nthe whistle began. Then he listened greedily. He soon learned that\nwhoever had possession of this simple instrument held the wand of a\nmagician over animal, bird, or man, and that if he pleased to pipe,\nman, bird, or animal within its sound must needs dance.\n\nThe hiding-place of this wonderful instrument was very minutely\ndescribed by the King, so that when the royal pair had taken their\ndeparture, Damper determined to become possessed of it When day broke\nour hero arose and began his search. He had no difficulty in finding\nthe tree, and he soon found the whistle. It was a stout reed, about six\ninches long, with a mouthpiece of pure gold.\n\nNumbers of birds, from the wren to a stork, were about and around,\nsinging their morning song. To test the efficacy of his prize, Damper\nplaced the whistle to his mouth and began to play. The effect was\nindeed wonderful. Not a bird but suddenly ceased its song and began to\nhop and dance about in the most absurd and comical manner, that our\nhero had to cease playing in order to laugh.\n\n\u201cOh! I think you will just be of some service to me,\u201d he said, putting\nthe whistle in his pocket. Then he shouldered his swag and continued\nhis journey.\n\nHe had not proceeded far when there approached from the opposite\ndirection a very fat woman in a covered van with her husband, who was a\nvery little man. He was on foot, driving the horse. The woman seemed in\na bad temper, and was abusing her companion soundly.\n\nDamper stopped the cart and asked the dame for a little food. \u201cGo on\nwith you for an idle vagabond!\u201d she cried, shaking her huge fist at the\nboy. \u201cThere are far too many of your sort about the country already. I\nonly wish we were near a township so that I might have the pleasure of\nsending you to the lock-up, you loafing rascal.\u201d\n\nSuch uncalled-for abuse roused Damper\u2019s ire. Without uttering a word in\nreply he took out his whistle and began to blow. Instantly the fat dame\nleapt from the trap into the road and began whirling round and round\nwith all her might, and anon throwing herself into such ridiculous\npostures that the little man, her husband, and even the horse began to\nlaugh; but their laugh was of short duration, for they also were drawn\ninto the dance, and the pony being securely harnessed upset the\nconveyance and scattered its contents all over the sward.\n\nIn the meantime the unfortunate woman, puffing and blowing like a\ngrampus, cut some very extraordinary capers under the irresistible\nspell of the whistle. What seemed to be part of a wild Highland reel\nmerged into the antics of a sort of Maori war-dance, and it was\nwonderful to note the agility displayed by so stout a person.\n\nThe piper himself felt too indignant to laugh, otherwise the good\ndame\u2019s gambols would have been of brief duration. Not before all the\nbreath had been jolted out of her anatomy did she plead for parley.\nThen in gasps she called out to him to \u201cstop for mercy\u2019s sake, and she\nwould give him all the tucker in the cart.\u201d\n\nOur hero was by no means a bad-hearted fellow. When he saw the woman\nhad been punished for her very rude behaviour he put the whistle aside,\nand assisted to raise the pony and restore the goods to the trap.\nAfterwards they dined together and parted on friendly terms.\n\nArriving late that night at a farmhouse on the billabong, Damper craved\na night\u2019s shelter, which was given him. In the morning he asked for\nwork.\n\n\u201cWhat can you do?\u201d said the farmer.\n\n\u201cOh, anything almost. I can make you dance,\u201d answered Damper.\n\n\u201cYes. And, by George, you\u2019ll find I\u2019ll make you dance, my lad, if you\ntalk to me like that!\u201d retorted the farmer angrily; and so poor Damper\nwas compelled to hump his swag farther afield.\n\nThe weather was fine, however, and the lad\u2019s heart light; so he went\nsinging along the bush track, until he was suddenly brought to a\nstand-still by a gruff command, \u201cTo bail up!\u201d Right across the track he\nsaw a big, bearded bushranger, splendidly mounted, who, seeing he was\nbut a youth, put back his revolvers and dismounted.\n\nBefore the ruffian could approach him, however, Damper pulled out his\nwhistle and began to play. Instantly the man and horse began their\ncapers with one accord, and it was not until the robber had fallen\nexhausted on the track that our hero ceased whistling.\n\n\u201cI pray thee put by that dreadful thing,\u201d said the panting outlaw, \u201cand\nI will fill thy pouch with gold.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot a bit of it,\u201d said Damper resolutely; \u201cmy terms are that you hand\nover to me every item of your ill-gotten treasure, horse included, else\nyou shall dance for it, my honey.\u201d\n\nThe robber commencing to curse and swear, Damper placed the whistle to\nhis mouth again.\n\n\u201cStop! Stop! I yield to thy terms, boy,\u201d cried the other imploringly.\n\n\u201cVery well. Hand over your revolver. Now that belt round your waist.\nNow take off your boots and depart in double-quick time.\u201d\n\nThe bushranger did not need to be told twice. He fled away into the\nbush and was lost to sight in a moment.\n\nDamper found the robber\u2019s belt filled with gold. He mounted the horse\nand rode away. And no lad in the whole continent was happier than he\nwas that day.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\u201cCOCKY.\u201d\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nTHE MAGIC HUT.\n\nAn outcast in a great city. Half-clad, half-starved, kicked and cuffed,\nand sworn at, as if he were no better than a mongrel cur, wretched Jack\nCochrane felt that he was a useless unit in the world.\n\nJack was a foundling, God help him! First one and then another had\ntaken him in hand, to rear him in the way he should go and make a\ndecent member of society of him; but the charitable intentions of his\ngodfathers and godmothers had evidently failed, for here he stood on\nthis cold winter\u2019s night, a full-grown youth, utterly unlettered,\nshivering in the keen wind, like a puppy in a wet sack.\n\nTo most of the young ragamuffins of his class he was known by the\nnickname of \u201cCocky,\u201d and while he stood beneath a lamp-post, thinking\nhow nice and comfortable it would be to tumble into a warm bed, half a\ndozen city waifs like himself came roystering by.\n\n\u201cHello, Cocky! Where\u2019r you going to doss to-night? Biler, or gas-pipe?\nDon\u2019t you go on the wharf\u2014there\u2019s two coppers waitin\u2019 there. Wouldn\u2019t a\nsaveloy hot or a tater go down slick, eh? So-long! Cocky, old man!\u201d and\nthe squad of shoeless young vagabonds went laughing on their way.\n\n\u201cI must try and get in and have a snooze somewhere,\u201d muttered the lad,\nblowing on his finger-tips to warm them. \u201cThere\u2019s the railway\u2014I wonder\nif I could find a truck with a tarpaulin on it? I will try.\u201d\n\nThe idea is acted on at once. Cocky soon finds a line of trucks covered\nwell from the weather, into one of which he quietly creeps, and finding\nit snug and warm is soon fast asleep.\n\nWhen he awakes it is daylight, and the sun is shining; peeping out from\nhis cover, Cocky discovers he is far away from the city. He has been an\nunbooked passenger by a goods train which has travelled all night and\ncarried him while he slept into the heart of the country.\n\nLuckily, the train happens to be stationary at a lonely bush siding,\nand Cocky makes his way out of the truck and away into the scrub\nwithout being discovered. Hurrying away from the direction of the\nrailway siding, Cocky finds himself near sundown on a narrow pathway\nleading over a range of high hills into a deep valley without trees,\nand where stands a solitary hut. An old man, much bent in form, and\nwhose hair and beard looked as if they had not been shorn since he was\nborn, stood at the door and gazed at our hero very curiously.\n\n\u201cPlease could you give me a morsel to eat?\u201d said poor Cocky, halting,\nfaint and tired.\n\n\u201cHum! You had better go farther if you fare worse,\u201d answered the old\nman.\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t go any farther,\u201d said the boy. \u201cI\u2019m done up completely. Pray\nlet me stay here to-night,\u201d he pleaded.\n\n\u201cHum! Rum-fuddle-em-fee! Very well. What can you do?\u201d questioned the\nold fellow, his eyes glinting and glowering upon poor Cocky in a most\nremarkable manner, like a cat\u2019s eyes seen in the dark.\n\n\u201cDo?\u201d repeated the lad boldly. \u201cOh, I\u2019ll do anything if you will give\nme some food and find me somewhere to sleep.\u201d\n\n\u201cBunkum Geezer,\u201d muttered the toothless old fellow in reply. \u201cYou shall\nhave all you want, but you must do my bidding; otherwise you shall not\nleave this valley alive. Do you hear?\u201d\n\nCocky was desperate with all a lad\u2019s gnawing hunger, so he answered,\n\u201cAll right. Trot out the tucker.\u201d\n\nClose by the hut stood a magnificent fir-tree, whose branches formed a\ncanopy impervious to dew or rain. Beneath it stood a table already\nspread with dainty food. With a wave of his hand the old man pointed\nthis out to Cocky, and said,\u2014\n\n\u201cGo, eat. Your couch will be beneath the tree also. When you have\neaten, sleep well, for to-morrow you will have to work\u2014to work hard,\nboy.\u201d Saying which, he went into the hut and closed the door.\n\nThe famishing lad did not need a second invitation to dine. He found a\nstool by the table and sat down and began his dinner. There were many\njoints and dishes which the waif had never seen before, but they were\nvery nice. In the midst of his repast a fine-looking magpie came\nfluttering down from the tree, and perching on one end of the table,\neyed our hero inquisitively.\n\n\u201cHallo! Who are you?\u201d said the boy.\n\n\u201cNever you mind, Jack Cochrane. Can I have something to eat?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course you can,\u201d answered the lad, after his first start of\nsurprise. \u201cWhat\u2019ll you have? Here\u2019s baked snails, stewed kangaroo,\nfried wallaby, native companion on toast, with a lot of other things.\u201d\n\nBut the magpie without more ado perched himself upon a huge rabbit pie\nand began to help himself to its contents.\n\n\u201cHere, I say, old fellow, how do you know my name?\u201d said Cocky, after a\nlong pause, in which he had been staring wonderingly at the strange\nbird.\n\n\u201cI know most things,\u201d replied the magpie, whetting his beak on the\ntable-cloth, preparatory to an attack on another dish. \u201cI know that you\nhave got into a very dangerous place, and that if you do not get\ncounsel and help you will assuredly lose your life.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s pleasant. But who will kill me?\u201d said Cocky, laughing.\n\n\u201cThe old man. He\u2019s a terrible magician, Jack. It would have been better\nfor you not to have come here.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s just what the old rascal said himself. But why can\u2019t I go when\nI like? He\u2019s in the hut, fast asleep by this time.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo. Don\u2019t attempt to run away, Jack,\u201d said the magpie gravely. \u201cOld\nGruff would be certain to know and would trap you like a fox before you\nwere out of the valley. You have been kind in sharing your dinner with\nme and I will help you, Jack. Kindness goes a long way with us. We\nnever forget those who have once befriended us, Cocky Cochrane.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho are you, then?\u201d inquired the boy, with mouth agape in wonder.\n\n\u201cYour good fairy, Jack, from this moment henceforth,\u201d responded the\nbird in a kindly tone. \u201cPlease don\u2019t bother me with questions now, for\nI must be gone. Gruff is a wicked monster. He will set you to do what\nwill seem impossible; but accept the task boldly and with cheerfulness.\nI will be near to help you. Now go to sleep. Good-night.\u201d\n\nCocky slept soundly. In the early morning he was awakened by a loud\nroaring; opening his eyes, he saw standing over him a huge fellow of\ncolossal proportions, who commanded him to arise in a voice like the\nrumbling noise of an express train.\n\n\u201cI am King Red Gum,\u201d said the monster, at the same time twirling a\nsapling round and round in his hand for pastime. \u201cIn yonder paddock you\nwill find a young colt who has never been touched by the hand of man.\nCatch him and bring him here before I have eaten my breakfast, or I\nwill string thee up by the heels and roast thee like a rabbit. Dost\nhear?\u201d\n\nCocky laughed and bounded away on his errand. He found the colt, but\nsoon discovered that it was quite impossible to approach the vicious\nbrute without being eaten or kicked to death. He had serious thoughts\nof running away, when the magpie alighted near him, to whom he\ncommunicated his trouble.\n\n\u201cShout Stra fonatsa as loudly as you can,\u201d said the bird.\n\n\u201cStra fonatsa! Come here!\u201d The wild horse pricked his ears and\nimmediately came over to where our hero stood. He was as gentle as a\nlamb and suffered Cocky to lead him by the mane to where King Red Gum\nwas waiting with his bludgeon.\n\n\u201cHo! Ho! thou insignificant mortal,\u201d he cried, \u201cso thou hast brought\nStra fonatsa. It is well. Now I must be off for my morning gallop.\nGruff! Gruff! thou lazy skunk, where art thou?\u201d\n\n\u201cHere am I, master,\u201d answered the old man, appearing at the door of his\nhut.\n\n\u201cGive this ant his breakfast so that he may be ready to do my bidding\nwhen I return;\u201d and King Red Gum mounted his steed and rode away. Once\nmore the old man of the hut invited Cocky to a well-furnished table,\nthen retired within his domicile and shut the door. In the midst of his\nbreakfast our hero was joined by the magpie, whom he welcomed\ncordially. He placed the choicest tit-bits before it.\n\n\u201cI am glad you have a kind heart, Jack, and that you are grateful for\nmy help,\u201d said the bird, after the meal was over. \u201cLearn, boy, I am not\nwhat I seem. None of us are, mortals or fairies.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho are you, please?\u201d said Cocky coaxingly.\n\n\u201cI am an elfin, Jack; just that. In this country every one of us has\nbeen made the guardian or custodian of some one who has been wronged. I\nam the guardian of a beautiful young lady who has been stolen from her\nhome and shut up in a spacious mansion underground. I have been\nawaiting your coming a long time, Cocky Cochrane, for you and you only\ncan release my darling Brown Eyes from the thraldom of King Red Gum and\nhis henchman, Old Gruff.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy did they shut up little Brown Eyes underground? What has she\ndone?\u201d said Cocky.\n\n\u201cThat ugly wretch, King Red Gum, wanted Brown Eyes to marry him, and\nshe would not. So he turned the poor dear into a blue wren and placed\nher in a cage below the earth,\u201d answered the magpie in a trembling\nvoice. \u201cNow, Jack, we all need help from one another. If you\u2019ll help\nme, I\u2019ll stand by you.\u201d\n\n\u201cAgreed,\u201d cried the young fellow resolutely. \u201cYou have done me good\nservice already; therefore whatever you order I am ready to obey.\u201d\n\n\u201cThank you, Jack. Good-bye for the present. I can hear King Red Gum\nreturning from his gallop.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nBROWN EYES.\n\nOur friend Cocky was not given very much time to digest his breakfast.\nDismounting from his steed the giant beckoned him forward, and thus\naddressed him: \u201cYou lazy imp! It would suit you very well to do nothing\nbut eat my victuals and take a sleep afterwards, but you shall work.\nListen! On the other side of yon mountain there is a wide lagoon\nfringed with reeds and rushes. There lives the Australian wonder, a\nBunyip. You must find him and ask of him three questions\u2014the answers to\nwhich you must bring to me before sundown, otherwise your miserable\nlife shall answer for it.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, that\u2019s quite easy,\u201d replied Cocky, with a dash of his city\nassurance. \u201cI thought you were going to set me something very\ndifficult. What are the three questions?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy the leaves on the trees grow edgeways to the sun?\u201d said the giant.\n\u201cNext: What is the reason there is no water in Phantom Hollow? And last\nbut not least: Why figs do not grow on the tree by the hut? Now begone!\nand bring me the answers before sundown,\u201d cried the Red Giant in a\ntowering rage.\n\nOur hero departed with a great show of bravado, but when he came near\nthe lagoon his assumed swagger quickly evaporated. He had heard there\nwas such a creature as a Bunyip, but he had never met anybody who had\nseen one. \u201cNever despair,\u201d however, was Cocky\u2019s motto. He would try and\nfind it, for the sake of Brown Eyes. He wandered about and searched in\nevery likely place amongst the rushes, and waded in the water calling\nfor the Bunyip. But there was no response to his call, and the sun\nbegan dipping westward.\n\nHereupon the magpie came upon the scene. \u201cHello, Jack! Looking for the\nBunyip?\u201d he cried.\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t find him. I don\u2019t believe there is such an animal,\u201d cried\nCocky.\n\n\u201cOh yes, there is; but he\u2019s neither animal nor fish, Jack\u2014yet a mixture\nof both. All you have to do is to cut a reed like a whistle, slit it\ndown the middle, then blow upon it twice.\u201d\n\nCocky obeyed the directions of the bird, and immediately there came\nforth from the middle of the lake a huge monster, with a head shaped\nlike that of a calf, and a body as large and unwieldy as a young\nhippopotamus. Its eyes were dreadful to behold, as it came slowly out\nof the water and crouched abjectly at the feet of our hero.\n\n\u201cWhat want you with me?\u201d it cried presently.\n\n\u201cTell me why the leaves of the gum-trees grow edgeways to the sun,\u201d\nsaid Cocky.\n\n\u201cBecause it is the nature of the tree to grow its leaves edgewise, thou\nfool,\u201d replied the monster.\n\n\u201cWhat is the reason there is no water in Phantom Hollow?\u201d\n\nThe Bunyip chuckled. \u201cBecause the sun has dried it up,\u201d he cried\ncontemptuously. \u201cWhat more?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy do figs not grow upon the tree by the hut in King Red Gum\u2019s dell?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause King Red Gum is an ass, who cannot discern a wild pine from a\nfig-tree. Now depart, or I shall drag thee down into the depths of the\nlagoon.\u201d\n\n\u201cAsk for a hair from his tail,\u201d whispered the magpie quickly.\n\n\u201cPlease give me a hair from your tail,\u201d said Cocky; and ere the monster\ncould grant or refuse the request our hero, by a sudden dexterous\nmovement, had possessed himself of the coveted prize and was speeding\naway up the mountain-side like a deer, with the clever magpie flying\nlow at his side.\n\n\u201cNow, Jack,\u201d cried the bird, \u201cwe must not part again until we have\naccomplished the release of my lady-bird Brown Eyes. Hold fast to that\nhair of the Bunyip\u2019s tail, for it will prove one of the most powerful\nweapons in the art of magic. It is a talisman to swear by, and none can\nresist it, as you will presently discover.\u201d\n\nThen the magpie added a short whisper into Cocky\u2019s ear, and they\ndescended into the dell, where the giant and Old Gruff stood awaiting\nour hero.\n\n\u201cTiny mortal, hast thou done thy task? What are the answers?\u201d roared\nRed Gum menacingly.\n\n\u201cBy the hair of the Bunyip\u2019s tail, I command thy obedience,\u201d cried our\nhero sternly.\n\nRed Gum let fall his huge waddy from his hand. With a loud cry he sank\ndown at our hero\u2019s feet cringingly at the potent words. \u201cThou art the\nmaster! I am thy slave!\u201d he cried in a submissive tone. \u201cWhat wilt\nthou, mortal?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have conquered, by jingo! henceforth thou shalt be a dingo.\u201d\n\nCocky had barely uttered the charm ere the huge bulk of the giant faded\nbeneath his eyes and assumed the form of a wild bush dog. At the same\nmoment the old man of the hut rushed to the assistance of his fallen\nchief; but our hero held the key, or rather the hair, of the position,\nand bade him stand.\n\n\u201cDog shalt thou be for thy folly. I will change thee to a collie!\u201d\ncried Cocky.\n\nImmediately the fated words passed the youth\u2019s lips the old fellow was\ntransformed into a big sheep dog, who, seeing the dingo at hand, sprang\nupon him at once, and while a battle royal raged between the two our\nhero mounted Stra fonatsa, and galloped away in company with the\nmagpie, much farther than I could tell you in this little story.\n\nWhen it was near sundown they came to a great cave, situated on a very\nhigh hill, and the magpie without more ado led our hero downward by a\nseries of stairs cut in the solid rock, through arches and corridors,\nonward to an open vista of glorious country, glowing and shimmering\nbeneath a strange but powerful light, which revealed the most minute\nobject within their vision.\n\nIn the distance appeared a fine mansion, with a high tower in the\ncentre of it; and when they came to the gate, they found a regiment of\ndwarfs on guard, who as soon as they saw the hair from the Bunyip\u2019s\ntail fell down on their faces before our hero and besought him to\nenter.\n\nThe magnificence displayed within the building was something to be\nremembered. Here were arches of polished marble, priceless statues,\ntables and couches of antique workmanship, with rich carpets woven in\nno mortal loom, and where everything was gleaming with velvet and thick\nsilks and pure gold.\n\nWandering on in this wonderful place the magpie led Jack Cochrane to a\nsmall apartment overlooking a lovely prospect of forest scenery, dotted\nwith lakes, glinting under the soft light. In one corner of this room\nwas hung a golden cage containing a wee wren. This bird became very\nlively when it saw the magpie, and the latter was no less agitated on\nseeing the little wren.\n\n\u201cGive me the hair of the Bunyip,\u201d cried the magpie in an altered tone\nthat Cocky hardly recognised. However, he obeyed. In an instant the\nroom was plunged in profound darkness, while at the same moment came a\nmusical voice, who in a loud tone cried, \u201cCome forth, Brown Eyes! come\nforth from thy thraldom! Night hath fled. Behold the day!\u201d\n\nThen more swift and sudden than a lightning flash Cocky, the city waif,\nwho had but winked his eyes in the darkness, opened them upon broad\ndaylight, with the sun streaming into a magnificent apartment and upon\na beautiful young lady with wonderful brown eyes, and also upon a tall,\nhandsome young man by her side.\n\n\u201cAm I dreaming?\u201d said poor Cocky, rubbing his eyes and staring at his\ncompanions.\n\n\u201cNot a bit of it, Jack Cochrane,\u201d said the handsome youth, smiling down\nupon Brown Eyes beside him. \u201cI am your friend still, but a magpie no\nlonger. The scene has changed, boy, thanks to your courage and\nsteadfastness. The wren and the magpie are Sir Plum Dough and his\naffianced bride, Brown Eyes Wattle Blossom. This is our domain. It is\ncalled The Gloaming. Stay here with us and be our henchman.\u201d\n\n\n                      RING DOWN THE CURTAIN.","title":"Australian fairy tales","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":66808}