A long time ago, in one of the narrowest side-streets of Kisington,
stood an old curiosity shop, full of strange things. It was a dark
little den inside, so dark that the outer sunshine made the old shopman
blink as he stood in the doorway talking with the stranger. The stranger
was a Medicine Man, and he had just sold a bottle of his famous Elixir
of Life to the old shopkeeper.
"Yes, sir," said the Medicine Man, as he turned to go, "you will find my
Magic Elixir all that I claim it to be. It will bring back youth and
beauty to the aged. It will give sight to eyes that see not, hearing to
deaf ears, speech to the tongue-tied and motion to limbs that have never
moved before. It will also cure whooping-cough."
"I hope so," said the old man in an eager voice. He had heard only one
word in six of the stranger's talk. "I hope so, for I need it very much.
Shall I take it all at once, or--" But already the Medicine Man was
halfway down the road, with the gold coin which the old man had given
him safe in his deepest pocket. The old man returned into his shop,
blinking more than ever, and stumbling over the piled-up rubbish as he
went. It was an abominably crowded little room. Each corner, each shelf,
each hook in wall or ceiling was occupied. Everything was piled high or
filled up with something else.
In the midst of all kinds of curiosities, the Lion Passant stood
waiting. He had been waiting there so many years that the Old Curiosity
Shop man had quite given up hope that any one would ever come for him.
The Lion was very old; older than the shop, older than the old man who
kept it, older than anything else in the shop--and that was saying much.
The Lion was cobwebby and scarred; but, notwithstanding, he was a fine
figure of a beast. He had been finely carved out of oak and colored a
warm gules, though now somewhat faded. He was carved in the attitude of
marching along a parti-colored pole of gules and silver. His dexter paw
was raised in the air, his red tongue hung out and his tail was curved
gracefully over his back. There was something which I cannot exactly
describe of grand and dignified about the Lion Passant,--what the books
call a "decayed gentility."
[Illustration: HE STOOD IN THE DOORWAY TALKING WITH THE STRANGER]
The old man stumbled and blinked his way toward the door at the rear of
the shop. He was eager to try the Elixir of Life and become young again,
and he hurried faster than was wise in the shadowy labyrinth. Just as he
was opposite the Lion Passant, he caught his foot in a sprawling chair
and stumbled forward, with both arms stretched out to save himself. Away
flew the bottle of Elixir, _smash_! against the head of the Lion Passant.
The glass shivered into a thousand pieces, and the precious golden drops
went trickling down over the carved beast, over the table, onto the
floor, where it made a dusty pool about the feet of a cracked china cat.
"Oh, me! Oh, me!" groaned the old man. "All my precious youth wasted,
and no money left to buy more! Oh, me! What an unlucky day it is!" And
he stumbled out to tell his wife all about it. Now, as soon as he had
left the shop, strange things began to happen there.
"Marry, come up!" exclaimed the Lion, licking his red tongue. "I am
a-weary of this. My leg is asleep." And he set down the dexter paw,
which he had been holding in that position for four hundred years or
more.
"Wow!" cried the China Cat from the floor. "My cracks are growing
together again! I believe I am as good as new!" And she arched her back
and yawned.
The Lion lashed his tail once, to be sure that he could really do it,
and looked about the shop in disgust. "I must away!" he said.
"Oh!" cried the Cat, lazily, beginning to lick her paw, as if she had
always been doing so since the discovery of China. "You are so restless!
Where are you going?"
The Lion stepped gingerly down from his striped pole to the table, and
from there to the floor. As he did so, he seemed to increase in size, so
that by the time he had reached the shop door he was as large as an
ordinary lion. "I am going to seek _Them_," said the Lion, with dignity.
"I am, as you see, a Lion Passant, the crest of a noble house. Many
years I have been separated from my people. I have waited for Them to
come for me. Every time the shop-bell tinkled it has waked an echo of
hope in my heart. But They do not come; I must, then, go to Them." He
sighed deeply.
"How will you know where to find them?" asked the Cat, respectfully.
"I shall seek Them in the halls of the mighty," said the Lion proudly.
"They were of the noblest in the land, I remember."
"By what name shall you know them?" asked the Cat again, who was
inquisitive.
The Lion became thoughtful. "The name?" he repeated. "The name? I have
forgot the name. But I was the crest that They bore in battle, the
figure on their shields, the carving above their hearths."
"Yes, but times have changed, folk say," objected the Cat. "How shall
you know your people among the New Ones?"
"I shall recognize Them," said the Lion confidently. "I shall know Them,
the proudest, the mightiest, the bravest, and most fair. Besides, is
there not the family tradition? Once, in the far ages before even I was
carved, the first knight of our line had an adventure with a lion; hence
my figure upon Their crest. I know not the tale complete; but this I
know--that from that time on, no one of Them has been able to see a
lion, to speak or hear the name, without sneezing thrice. So it was in
that day, so it has been ever since."
"That, indeed, is something definite," yawned the Cat, as the Lion
stalked out into the sunshine. "Well, I'm glad I have no tradition but
one of comfort." And she curled herself up on a piece of ancient gold
brocade.
So the Lion went forth to seek his people. He had not gone far before he
overtook the Medicine Man, who had sold no Elixir since leaving the
Curiosity Shop. The Lion padded up behind him so silently that the man
did not hear him until he was quite close; then the Lion gave a gentle
roar.
"Abracadabra!" cried the man, turning pale and shaking till his teeth
rattled. He was so ignorant that he did not know a Heraldic Device when
he saw one. But he had seen pictures in books and knew that this
brilliant red beast was no ordinary lion.
"Kind youth," said the Lion grandly, lifting his paw and curving his
tail in the old way, "I owe you much. Your Magic Elixir has given me
life and motion. If there is aught I can do for you, I shall be glad."
The man's face was full of wonder. "You owe much to the Elixir?" he
cried. "Oh, pray explain!"
So the Lion explained. When he had finished the simple story, the
Medicine Man's face was illumined with a great idea. "It is
magnificent!" he cried. "It is beyond my wildest dreams. For, to tell
you the truth--but why tell the truth? This justifies me, certainly.
Now, if you would but go with me as a Living Testimonial?"
The Lion bowed. He did not like the idea, for it threatened notoriety;
but he felt a sense of duty. "_Noblesse oblige_," he murmured. "It is
Our motto. Nothing can hurt my pride, if it has a foundation upon truth.
I will go with you until I feel that my debt is paid."
"It is well!" said the man. And they journeyed together. Naturally, the
appearance of a warm crimson lion caused considerable excitement in the
streets of Kisington. Folk crowded around him and the Medicine Man, and
when they heard his story, they bought eagerly of the Elixir. "He is the
crest of a noble house come to life!" they whispered among themselves.
"What noble house?" The Lion listened eagerly for the answer; but heads
were shaken in reply. No one recognized the device.
There was one thing which annoyed the Lion. This was the tendency of the
Medicine Man to exaggerate the powers of his Elixir. As time went on, he
began to add the oddest stories to the one he told about the Lion. Was
that not wonderful enough? The Lion was astonished, shocked, outraged.
He protested, but in vain. The habit of exaggeration, once contracted,
becomes a terrible master. The Medicine Man seemed unable longer to
speak the truth.
One morning when he was telling his wicked lies to a company of trusting
women and children, the Lion rose from the center of the eager circle
and stalked away from the Medicine Man. "_Noblesse oblige_," he said.
And they never saw each other again. I dare say the seller of the Elixir
and his descendants have been doing business in the same way ever since.
Now, the Lion journeyed for many months through the Kingdom without
finding a trace of his family. He scanned carefully the entrance to
every great palace and castle. He caused some confusion in traffic by
dashing out to examine the crests emblazoned upon the panels of the
chariots which passed him on the road. He even halted foot-passengers to
inquire, courteously, if he might look more closely at certain devices
upon chain or brooch or bangle which had caught his eye. Especially, he
surprised with his attentions several persons who had sneezed violently
in his presence. But in vain. He failed to find the clue he sought.
Folk would fain have helped him in his search; for his manners were
gentle and gracious, and his bearing unmistakably noble. Folk liked him.
Many would have been glad to prove themselves, through him, scions of
that great family which he undoubtedly represented. But all their
efforts to sneeze at the right time were fruitless. They went away
crestfallen before his reproachful gaze. Sometimes, the Lion would spy a
lovely face, or a manly figure, which appealed strangely to him.
"Surely," he would say to himself, "surely, this noble-looking person is
one of Them. Something seems to tell me so!" And he would assume his
heraldic pose, with dexter paw lifted and eloquent tail curved high,
waiting wistfully for the sneeze of recognition to follow. Sometimes,
alas! came, instead, a laugh of scorn, or an unkind word. He learned that
noble figures and lovely faces do not always adorn like natures.
Well, many months passed by. Footsore and weary, the Lion still traveled
upon his quest. He felt very old and lonesome, homesick for his marble
halls, hopeless of finding them. He came, one noon, to an inn on the
outskirts of Derrydown Village. Over the door of the inn a signboard
creaked and flapped in the wind. The Lion looked up. He beheld upon the
sign the picture of a red lion! The traveler was greatly moved.
"Surely," he thought, "this must be the arms of some great family in the
neighborhood--perhaps my ancestral castle is hereabout!" But when he
explained things to the Landlord, that worthy dashed his hopes once
more. No family with such a device was known in those parts.
"However," said the Landlord, eyeing the Lion appraisingly, "I have an
idea! If you will remain with me for some hours, I will show you
something. The Prince and his train are to pass here on their way to the
Ancient Wood, where they will hunt. In the company will be all the
grandest nobles of the Kingdom. Surely, some of your family will be
among them. Here is a splendid viewpoint! Do you remain beside my door
in your grand attitude. You will see and be seen. If your folks are
there, you will be sneezed at; which is what you want. It will be,
beside, a grand advertisement for me--a real red lion guarding the Red
Lion Inn!"
The Lion agreed. That night, when the Prince's cavalcade passed through
Derrydown, huge and red, with lifted paw and curved tail, the beast
stood at the door of the Red Lion Inn. Many stared in wonder. Many
paused to inquire. Many entered and partook of the dainties which Mine
Host had prepared against this very happening. The Prince himself
paused, pointed, and asked a question. The Lion's heart leaped wildly!
There was a curious expression on the Prince's face; it seemed drawn and
twisted--was he about to sneeze? Alas! No. With a harsh laugh, the
Prince gave the Lion a cut with his whip and bounded past; after him,
the last of his followers. The Lion's skin smarted and his heart
writhed. He kept his temper with difficulty; but--it was the Prince.
_Noblesse oblige_.
When they were out of sight, his head drooped. There was no one in all
that gallant company who belonged to him. But the Landlord had reaped a
rich harvest from the Lion's presence. When once more the village was
empty of nobility, he came to the Lion, rubbing his hands, contentedly.
"Old fellow," he said, "I have had profit from you. Now, I will give you
supper and a bed in my stable for the night. And why should we not make
this arrangement permanent? You see, your folks are gone. The family has
run out and no one any longer bears or recognizes the crest. You are an
orphan; but you can still be of use to me. Why not become the supporter
of my inn?"
"Gramercy!" quoth the Lion, with dignity. "I will accept the supper, for
I am very hungry. But as for sleeping in the stable, that I cannot do! I
prefer a bed on one of the fragrant haycocks in your meadow."
"To that you are welcome, if you please," said the Landlord graciously.
"And, to-morrow, we will talk again of the other matter."
So the Lion had his supper, and then went wearily to sleep on a haycock
in the thymy meadow. He was sad and disillusioned, and the Landlord's
words had taken away his last hope. He began to wish that he had never
come alive. "To-morrow," he said, "I will go back to the Old Curiosity
Shop, and see if the old man can un-medicine me. For a crest without a
family is even a more forlorn thing than a family without a crest!"
The Lion wakened with a start. "_Ker-chew! Ker-chew! Ker-chew!_" sounded
in his ear. He sprang to his feet and looked around. Opposite him stood
a little girl in a ragged gown, with a basket on her arm, staring at him
with big, round eyes. She did not seem in the least afraid. The Lion was
annoyed. He had been dreaming of his noble family, and it was very
disappointing to be wakened by this beggar with her mocking "_Ker-chew_!"
"Away with you, child!" he said. "I am weary and peevish. Do you not
know better than to awaken a sleeping lion?"
"_Ker-chew! Ker-chew! Ker-chew!_" The child sneezed again so violently
that she nearly fell into the haycock.
The Lion was agitated. "What can this mean?" he thought. "It must be an
accident which has caused her to sneeze at the word. I will try again."
He began firmly, "When a lion--" But again he was interrupted by the
violent sneezing of the little maid as soon as the word had passed his
teeth.
The Lion shivered. Could this really be? Was it possible that this
vagrant was an offshoot of the noble family which he had been seeking?
If so, he must be in no hurry to claim relationship! The child put her
hand into her basket, smiling.
"Good Lion," she said, "_Ker-chew! Ker-chew! Ker-chew!_ I like you. Will
you have a bit of bread?" And she held out to him a fragment of her
luncheon.
The Lion was touched. He did not like bread, but he could not refuse a
child, and he ate it painfully. "What is your name?" he asked at length.
"Claribel," she answered.
"Your other name?" he persisted.
"Claribel," she repeated. "Just Claribel--that is all."
"Where do you live?" asked the Lion.
The child pointed over her shoulder. "Near the Ancient Wood, yonder,"
she said. "I came to Derrydown to the market. I have sold my dolls; now
I am going home with the money."
"Dolls?" queried the Lion, interested in spite of himself. "You make
dolls?"
Claribel nodded. "Rag dolls," she said. "My mother made dresses for the
villagers. Now I make dolls out of the pieces in the old rag-bag. It
buys me bread."
The Lion's heart was softened. "You are so little, Claribel!" he
exclaimed. "Have you no one to take care of you?"
The child shook her head. "My mother is dead. I am alone in the world,"
she said.
"But have you no relatives--no one of noble kin in some palace, some
castle?" the Lion cried eagerly.
The child laughed. "I know of no castles," she said; "no kindred at all.
I never had any, I think."
The Lion gave a groan. "I will go back to the Curiosity Shop!" he said
whimsically. "Good-bye, child!" He started away. But, turning for a last
look, he saw Claribel, with her eyes full of tears.
"Do not go!" cried the child. "I like you so much, dear Lion--_Ker-chew!
Ker-chew! Ker-chew!_"
The Lion's heart melted. "You are so little!" he said, "too little to be
going on these roads alone. I will see you home." So they took the long
road together, the child skipping happily beside the Lion, with her hand
in his red mane. And the farther they walked together, the more the Lion
liked Claribel, who sneezed whenever she spoke his name, but looked at
him with kindly eyes.
They came at last to the hut where Claribel lived alone. It was a tiny
cottage on the edge of the wood. The Lion looked at it long and hard. It
was so different from the castle he had hoped to find! The child pulled
him by the mane, and he went in. The hut was very poor, but spotlessly
neat and clean.
Claribel led the Lion to the fireplace and began to blow meager sparks
with the bellows. "I will keep you warm and give you bread to eat. You
shall stay and live with me and be my dear big watch-dog!" she said.
The Lion sighed. But he could say nothing; he was so tender-hearted. "I
will run away in the night," he promised himself. And then, on the
mantel-stone above the tire, he spied a roughly-scratched shield. On the
shield was the small figure of a lion passant, with dexter paw raised
and curved tail. Below it was scrawled the motto, "_Noblesse oblige_."
Claribel saw him staring at it with big eyes, and began to laugh and
sneeze. "Yes, my mother loved it," she said, "and I love it, though it
always makes me sneeze just as you do. That was why I liked you from the
beginning. Some day I shall learn what the words mean; then I shall be
rich and happy."
The Lion did not run away that night. He slept with his nose on his paws
beside the fire and dreamed grand dreams of castles and fair ladies; of
gold-broidered banners on which _he_ was emblazoned in crimson glory,
and of the battle-cry, "_Noblesse oblige_!" echoing all about him.
But in the morning he was awakened, for the second time, by the sound of
three soft little sneezes. "Excuse me!" said Claribel's dear little
voice; "I tried not to, but I could not help it. I was so afraid you
would not be here when I woke up. It might all have been a dream. But as
soon as I saw you, I had to sneeze;--it is very odd!" She laughed and
laughed, and the Lion roared in sympathy.
"I shall not go away," he said. "I want to be a real Supporter, not a
heraldic one. I shall stay and try to help you learn the meaning of the
motto over the fireplace."
"Oh, I am so happy!" cried Claribel, clapping her hands. "Already, I
have thought of a way you can help me very much. I have always wanted to
make a lion doll--_Ker-chew! Ker-chew! Ker-chew!_ But I never before had
any lion--_Ker-chew! Ker-chew! Ker-chew!_--to copy, except that flat one
over the fireplace. Now I can shape them after you and sell them in the
market, and we shall grow rich, oh, so rich!"
And so it befell in the days that came thereafter. For Claribel's clever
fingers snipped and pieced and seamed together the bits of cloth, until
she had a lion so like her new friend that she almost sneezed her head
off when he was finished. And, lo! She had invented a new kind of toy,
which was speedily the rage over the whole kingdom.
In time, the making of lion-dolls became the great industry of
Derrydown, whereof the people had much profit, especially Claribel,
whose idea it was. And the folk of the town loved her dearly, because
she had brought prosperity to them all. And they were devoted to the
Lion, who went to and fro among them with gracious dignity, serving
Claribel and serving them, so busy that he had no time to worry about
escutcheons.
No family so poor but it had its little lion of carefully pieced rags,
which it fondly prized; not merely because it was a quaint toy and
indestructible, but because it was to them a token of their noble,
friendly beast and of the motto which he had taught them. (But they had
taught him many things, also.) And in latter days a crimson lion became
the seal of the Guild of Toy-Makers in that shire. And a new tradition
began to grow about the Lion Passant, concerned entirely with his
service to the people.
So, in seeking Them, the Lion found himself. And he lived happy ever
after.