THE WHITE SLIPPER
It was not long after Ronald’s sleep-walking adventure when the
faithful Stumpy was stricken with a sharp rheumatic attack that made
it necessary for him to come up to the Lighthouse and be nursed by
Mrs. McLean. On the whole he found his illness rather agreeable than
otherwise, for Ronald and Lesley were his constant companions and the
Lightkeeper laughingly said more than once that he didn’t know when he
hired Stumpy whether he had engaged a nurse for his children, or an
assistant for his own work.
When the old fellow was recovering and could limp about almost as well
as usual, he rambled out one balmy day with his young friends and they
all sat together on the rocks in the sun. Not a feather of breeze was
blowing, a thing most remarkable and to be remembered, for King Æolus
was supposed to have his cave in the immediate vicinity of the island
and to let out from it all his romping, roaring winds every morning.
Jenny Lind, though not invited, had joined the party and was looking
down upon them, benevolently, from a high rock; several sheep were
scrambling about near by and a rabbit occasionally appeared, stood on
his hind legs, sniffed the air, and disappeared again. Jim Crow was
there, perched on the donkey’s back and croaking certain remarks in a
low tone about this being a hard world, anyway, and it was a strange
thing, so it was, that a poor crow couldn’t have a red ribbon around
his neck, like Lesley. From time to time he eyed the steel chain that
hung from Stumpy’s pocket with such a covetous air that its owner
clapped his hand over it in pretended alarm and cried laughingly, “Oh,
you Jim Crow! You young, handsome bird! You no want take chain from
poor old man.”
“Jim-ery Crow-ery, never-y you-ery mind-ery!” cried Lesley,
affectionately. “Bad-ery Stump-ery, tease-ery you-ery!”
“Oh-ery you-ery think-ery Jim-ery never-y bad-ery!” exclaimed Ronald.
“Oh, that secret language! When I learn?” sighed Stumpy. “I tell you
many times you better learn Spanish.”
“Well, we’re willing,” answered Lesley, cheerfully. “We always were.
Teach us some now. We know ‘_Viva México!_’ to begin with.”
“I think you not even know my name in Spanish,” said the old man,
seriously. “My name Francisco Lopez, or Pancho Lopez, if you want use
little name. In Mexico children like you call me Don Pancho.”
“Well, that’s all right,” said Ronald. “I’ll call you that, and now we
know four words.”
“If we learn eight more words this afternoon and that will make twelve,
will you tell ‘The White Slipper?’” asked Lesley, eagerly.
“Sure I will,” agreed Don Pancho, and the children set to work at
once and learned the Spanish for _donkey_, _crow_, _sheep_, _lamb_,
_rabbit_, _man_, _boy_ and _girl_.
“Well, that’s done,” said Ronnie with a sigh of content, “and now ‘The
White Slipper.’”
Here is the story, but it would best be told as the little Pancho heard
it at his mother’s knee and not in the halting English he had learned
since then.
THE WHITE SLIPPER[1]
“There was once a king of great riches and a great kingdom whose
queen was no longer living and who would have been very lonely
on his golden throne had it not been for his beautiful daughter,
Diamantina.
“Only fifteen years old was Diamantina, but how beautiful and how
graceful! When she rode through the streets of the city, her eyes
and her jewels shone like the sun at midday and she had more lovers
than there are grasses in the meadow. For all that, her father, King
Balancin, had no idea of marriage for her and indeed she was too busy
with her birds and her flowers to think about a husband.”
“But where is the White Slipper?” the children interrupted.
“Well, that is exactly what Balancin wanted to know,” said Stumpy, “and
I will tell you all about it this very minute.
“Everybody in this world, my dears, no matter how happy he seems
to be, has yet some trouble to bear, be it small or great, and
Balancin’s trouble was of very good size.
“The monarch was devoted to the sport of hunting and one day, while
pursuing the wild boar, he fell from his horse into a ravine where
his face and hands were torn with thorns and his foot received a
grievous wound.
“All the doctors in the kingdom were summoned to him, one after
the other, but no one of them cured the wound which kept the poor
king in constant pain. At length a learned physician from another
country was heard of, was offered a magnificent fee and summoned to
the palace, and after examining the injured foot he declared that he
could not cure it, but that he could make a sandal or slipper for it
that would quiet the pain. This offer Balancin eagerly accepted, and
the physician gave orders for the slipper, which was to be made of
kid-skin, beautifully soft and white and was guaranteed to last one
thousand years from that date.
“When this wonderful object was delivered, the monarch naturally
wished to try it at once, but the physician warned him that it must
first be soaked for eight days in a liquid which he, only, could
manufacture, if it were to be of any service.
“This was done, the famous White Slipper was finally put on and, oh,
joy! Balancin was comfortable once more. His delight was such that
he made the physician the most extravagant offers to remain at his
court, but the learned man replied that he had many patients awaiting
him in his own country, and he departed, at length, laden with the
richest of presents.
“The king was now as happy as the sun on Easter Day and so was the
charming Diamantina who had shared to the full in her father’s
distress, but, alas! children of my heart, the joys of this world are
fleeting!
“The date of the king’s birthday now drew near and great preparations
were made for the occasion. There was to be a water festival, an
afternoon of sports and games, a grand banquet at night, fireworks
and an illumination of the palace. The king and his beautiful
daughter appeared early upon the streets, arrayed in the greatest
magnificence and were cheered and applauded wherever they went. The
day was spent in gayety, but, at night, as Balancin stepped into the
boat which was to take him back to the palace his foot caught on one
of the thwarts and, shaking it, in a moment of impatience with the
pain, off fell the White Slipper into the stream!
“The king cried out in distress, but, as it was already dusk, no one
noticed his loss, and he fell swooning into the bottom of the boat
before any one understood what had happened.
“The courtiers rushed to his rescue, but in their haste they
overturned the boat in so doing and upset the unfortunate monarch
into the water. Diamantina fainted, at once, on seeing her father’s
plight, and parent and child were carried insensible to the palace
where an end was immediately made to all festivities.
“Balancin remained insensible for three days and therefore could not
order a search for the White Slipper; Diamantina, however, recovered
on the morning after the accident, inquired for the treasure which
none of the careless attendants had even thought of up to that time,
and, finding that it was missing, immediately fainted away again.
When she came to herself she at once organized search-parties both
by land and by water in every direction, but neither then nor at any
other time was so much as an inch of the White Slipper ever found.
“The king, again pursued by pain both night and day, fell into the
deepest gloom, the princess wept like a fountain, and the court was
plunged into mourning. Messengers were dispatched for the foreign
physician, but, alas! in spite of all his learning he had departed
this life.
“The unfortunate monarch now posted notices in every part of his
kingdom offering the hand of Diamantina and the succession to the
throne to whosoever would find the White Slipper. The princess,
ready to sacrifice all for her beloved father, watched from the
palace windows the swarm of youths who swam and dived in the
neighboring stream in search of the missing treasure. The town looked
like a seaside resort in the bathing season and, wherever you went,
showers of drops were scattered over your garments as the dripping
figures, with chattering teeth, darted in and out of the waters.
“At last, when Balancin was completely discouraged and ready to put
an end to his life, he heard a disturbance one day in an antechamber
of the palace and sending to inquire the cause found out that a
fellow of the streets, a mere nobody from nowhere, as the servants
expressed it, had had the impudence to call at the palace and ask to
measure His Majesty’s foot for another shoe like the one he had lost.
“‘And what did you do with the fellow?’ asked Balancin.
“‘We packed him off at once,’ cried the servants, ‘and gave him a
good drubbing besides for his insolence.’
“‘Very ill done,’ frowned the king. ‘The meanest of my subjects has a
right to attempt, at least, to do me a service. Send for the youth.
I can hear what he has to say, if I can do no more.’
“The poor fellow was sent for at once, and, appearing before the
monarch and giving him a respectful salutation, begged permission to
measure the injured foot and to place upon the wound a small plaster
that would ease the pain until he could complete the cure.
“Balancin was astonished at the ease and assurance of the youth,
but he liked his face and his manner and allowed him to make the
examination, which he did with the greatest care. The plaster was
scarcely laid on the wound when the king felt some relief and, more
astonished still at this result, he asked his caller’s name.
“‘I am very well known in the city, Your Majesty,’ the youth answered
humbly, ‘although I have no kinsfolk and never knew my parents. When
I was little they called me “Goldfinch,” because I always sang in
spite of my troubles and they call me “Goldfinch” still.’
“‘And you think you can cure me, Master Finch?’ asked Balancin.
“‘I am sure of it, sire.’
“‘And how long will it take?’
“‘I can hardly manage it in less than fifteen days, sire,’ answered
Goldfinch.
“‘And what do you require for the cure?’ inquired the king.
“‘A good horse, strong and swift, Your Majesty.’
“Balancin was astonished again, and the courtiers could hardly
restrain their laughter, but the monarch replied at once: ‘The horse
shall be yours, Master Goldfinch, and in fifteen days I shall expect
you here again. If you succeed in the cure, you know what the reward
will be; if you fail, your daring will receive a fitting punishment.’
“Goldfinch made a profound bow and withdrew; the horse was provided
at once, and the youth left the city followed by the hoots and jeers
of the entire populace.
“Now I must tell you, my children, who Goldfinch was and how he became
possessed of so much medical knowledge.
“His parents having died in his infancy he was taken in, out of
charity, by an old apothecary who had nothing left of his business
but his learning and his library.
“As the boy grew, he applied himself to study the books with which
the walls were lined and was greatly assisted and encouraged by his
benefactor, who, upon his death, bequeathed to his charge all the
weighty volumes. The youth gained a light employment to support his
scanty needs and spent his remaining time in study, whereby, one day,
he found a marvelous specific for wounds which, however, required
the use of a plant only to be found at a great distance and was thus
completely out of his reach, as he possessed neither horse nor money.
“He had often seen the Princess Diamantina in her royal progress
through the city and cherished for her a passionate affection, but
had had no hope, even of speaking to her, until he saw the king’s
proclamation published in the streets and so was emboldened to call
at the palace and offer a substitute for the White Slipper.
“Astride his good horse, Goldfinch now galloped away for six whole
days, stopping hardly to eat and only to snatch an hour’s sleep at
night, and finally, in the depths of a thick wood, he found the plant
so much desired. He plucked it, placed it carefully in his bosom, and
_Katakées, katakás, katakées, katakás_, he was off again, galloping
back to the city.
“Reasoning that if the king were willing to give his daughter and
his kingdom to the man who should furnish him with a shoe to ease
his pain, he would be even more grateful to one who should cure him
altogether, the youth prepared his balsam according to directions and
mixed within it the juices of the precious plant.
“This done and before the fifteen days had quite expired, Goldfinch
presented himself at the palace and asked for an audience with
the king. All was immediately prepared for his reception and the
court assembled, the beautiful Diamantina entering by her father’s
side. She saw at once that the new physician was young and of good
appearance and, modestly casting down her eyes, awaited her fate.
“Goldfinch approached His Majesty and after the usual salutations
inquired of him whether he would prefer another White Slipper, or a
complete cure of the wounded foot. Balancin naturally replied that
a complete cure was what most he longed for in the world, whereupon
Goldfinch at once applied his precious balsam to the wound. A few
moments slipped by, and the king, the courtiers, and most of all the
princess, waited with bated breath.
“Suddenly Balancin started to his feet, he walked, he ran across the
floor, and finally, in a transport of ecstasy, he danced gayly about
the room, tossing his crown before him like a ball into the air.
“‘Approach, my benefactor, approach, Prince Goldfinch!’ he cried,
‘and I will gladly give thee thy reward.’
“Drawing toward him his beloved daughter, who was blushing like a
white cloud in the setting sun, Balancin joined the hands of the
young couple and ordered the immediate celebration of their wedding.
“Prince Goldfinch, attended by respectful courtiers, withdrew to a
sumptuous apartment in the palace and shortly issued clad in white
velvet embroidered in gold. Diamantina, in garments frosted with lace
and glittering with gems, joined him at the altar and amid the cheers
of the populace the marriage took place.
“The new-made prince filled equally well his double offices of
husband and son-in-law, and on the death of Balancin reigned over the
kingdom many years in peace and contentment.”
[Illustration: HE DANCED GAYLY ABOUT THE ROOM, TOSSING HIS CROWN BEFORE
HIM LIKE A BALL]
“Oh, what a good story!” cried Lesley.
“Stump-ery, true-ery
I love you-ery!”
and she pressed close to the blue-clad arm beside her.
“Much obliged to you, Don Pancho,” said Ronald in an offhand, manly way.
Nobody else said anything, for Jenny Lind had wandered away and Jim
Crow had flapped his wings once or twice and departed, crying as he
went, “Caw! Caw! I know a better story than that, about a pirate and a
buried treasure.”
There had been a rabbit in almost constant attendance upon the party,
but he had popped up and popped down so frequently that it was hard
to tell at any given time whether it was himself or his brother, and
probably timidity would have hindered either of them from giving
applause even to a better story than that of the White Slipper.