six of Uller's daughters, from the youngest to the oldest. Yet no one
could tell which of them he was in love with, or could name the girl he
liked best; no, not even the daughters themselves. His character and his
qualities were not well known, for he put on many disguises and appeared
in many places. It was believed, however, that he had already done a
good deal of mischief and was likely to do more, for he loved
destruction. Yet he often helped the kabouter dwarfs to do great things;
so that showed he was of some use. In fact he was the fire fairy. He
kept on, courting all the six sisters, long after May day came, and he
lengthened his visits until the heat turned the entire half dozen of
them into water. So they became one.
At this, Uller was so angry at Vuur's having delayed so long before
popping the question, and at his daughters' losing their shapes, that he
made Vuur marry them all and at once, they taking the name of Regen.
Now when the child of Vuur and Regen was born, it turned out to be, in
body and in character, just what people expected from such a father and
mother. It was named in Dutch, Stoom. It grew fast and soon showed that
it was as powerful as its parents had been; yet it was much worse, when
shut up, than when allowed to go free in the air. Stoom loved to do all
sorts of tricks. In the kitchen, it would make the iron kettle lid flop
up and down with a lively noise. If it were confined in a vessel,
whether of iron or earthenware, when set over the fire, it would blow
the pot or kettle all to pieces, in order to get out. Thinking itself a
great singer, it would make rather a pleasant sound, when its mother let
it come out of a spout. Yet it never obeyed either of its parents. When
they tried to shut up Stoom inside of anything, it always escaped with a
terrible sound. In fact, nothing could long hold it in, without an
explosion.
Sometimes Stoom would go down into the bowels of the earth and turn on a
stream of water so as to meet the deep fires which are ever burning far
down below us. Then there would come an awful earthquake, because Stoom
wanted to get out, and the earth crust would not let him, but tried to
hold him down. Sometimes Stoom slipped down into a volcano's mouth. Then
the mountain, in order to save itself from being choked, had to spit
Stoom out, and this always made a terrible mess on the ground, and men
called it lava. Or, Stoom might stay down in the crater as a guest, and
quietly come out, occasionally, in jets and puffs.
Even when Jack Frost was around and froze the pipes in the house, or
turned the water of the pots, pans, kettles and bottles into solid ice,
Stoom behaved very badly. If the frozen kettles, or any other closed
vessel were put over the stove, or near the fire, and the ice melted at
the bottom too fast, Stoom would blow the whole thing up. In this way,
he often put men's lives in danger and made them lose their property.
No one seemed to know how to handle this mischievous fairy. Not one man
on earth could do anything with him. So they let him have his own way.
Yet all the time, though he was enjoying his own tricks and lively fun,
he was, with his own voice, calling on human beings to use him properly,
and harness him to wheels; for he was willing to be useful to them, and
was all ready to pull or drive, lift or lower, grind or pump, as the
need might be.
As long as men did not treat him properly and give him the right to get
out into the air, after he had done his work, Stoom would explode, blow
up and destroy everything. He could be made to sing, hiss, squeal,
whistle, and make all kinds of sounds, but, unless the bands that held
him in were strong enough, or if Vuur got too hot, or his mother would
not give him drink enough, when the iron pipes were red with heat, he
would lose his temper and explode. He had no respect for bad or
neglected boilers, or for lazy or careless firemen and engineers.
Yet properly harnessed and treated well, and fed with the food such as
his mother can give, and roused by his father's persuasion, Stoom is
greater than any giant or fairy that ever was. He can drive a ship, a
locomotive, a submarine, or an aeroplane, as fast as Fro's boar, horse
or ship. Everybody to-day is glad that Stoom is such a good servant and
friend all over the world.
THE ELVES AND THEIR ANTICS
The elves are the little white creatures that live between heaven and
earth. They are not in the clouds, nor down in the caves and mines, like
the kabouters. They are bright and fair, dwelling in the air, and in the
world of light. The direct heat of the sun is usually too much for them,
so they are not often seen during the day, except towards sunset. They
love the silvery moonlight. There used to be many folks, who thought
they had seen the beautiful creatures, full of fun and joy, dancing hand
in hand, in a circle.
In these old days, long since gone by, there were more people than there
are now, who were sure they had many times enjoyed the sight of the
elves. Some places in Holland show, by their names, where this kind of
fairies used to live. These little creatures, that looked as thin as
gauze, were very lively and mischievous, though they often helped honest
and hard working people in their tasks, as we shall see. But first and
most of all, they were fond of fun. They loved to vex cross people and
to please those who were bonnie and blithe. They hated misers, but they
loved the kind and generous. These little folks usually took their
pleasure in the grassy meadows, among the flowers and butterflies. On
bright nights they played among the moonbeams.
There were certain times when the elves were busy, in such a way as to
make men and girls think about them. Then their tricks were generally in
the stable, or in the field among the cows. Sometimes, in the kitchen or
dairy, among the dishes or milk-pans, they made an awful mess for the
maids to clean up. They tumbled over the churns, upset the milk jugs,
and played hoops with the round cheeses. In a bedroom they made things
look as if the pigs had run over them.
When a farmer found his horse's mane twisted into knots, or two cows
with their tails tied together, he said at once, "That's the work of
elves." If the mares did not feel well, or looked untidy, their owners
were sure the elves had taken the animals out and had been riding them
all night. If a cow was sick, or fell down on the grass, it was believed
that the elves had shot an arrow into its body. The inquest, held on
many a dead calf or its mother, was, that it died from an "elf-shot."
They were so sure of this, that even when a stone arrow head--such as
our far-off ancestors used in hunting, when they were cave men--was
picked up off the ground, it was called an "elf bolt," or "elf-arrow."
Near a certain village named Elf-berg or Elf Hill, because there were so
many of the little people in that neighborhood, there was one very old
elf, named Styf, which means Stiff, because though so old he stood up
straight as a lance. Even more than the young elves, he was famous for
his pranks. Sometimes he was nicknamed Haan-e'-kam or Cock's Comb. He
got this name, because he loved to mock the roosters, when they crowed,
early in the morning. With his red cap on, he did look like a rooster.
Sometimes he fooled the hens, that heard him crowing. Old Styf loved
nothing better than to go to a house where was a party indoors. All the
wooden shoes of the twenty or thirty people within, men and women, girls
and boys, would be left outside the door. All good Dutch folks step out
of their heavy timber shoes, or klomps, before they enter a house. It is
always a curious sight, at a country church, or gathering of people at a
party, to see the klomps, big and little, belonging to baby boys and
girls, and to the big men, who wear a number thirteen shoe of wood. One
wonders how each one of the owners knows his own, but he does. Each pair
is put in its own place, but Old Styf would come and mix them all up
together, and then leave them in a pile. So when the people came out to
go home, they had a terrible time in finding and sorting out their
shoes. Often they scolded each other; or, some innocent boy was blamed
for the mischief. Some did not find out, till the next day, that they
had on one foot their own, and on another foot, their neighbor's shoe.
It usually took a week to get the klomps sorted out, exchanged, and the
proper feet into the right shoes. In this way, which was a special trick
with him, this naughty elf, Styf, spoiled the temper of many people.
Beside the meadow elves, there were other kinds in Elfin Land; some
living in the woods, some in the sand-dunes, but those called
Staalkaars, or elves of the stall, were Old Styf's particular friends.
These lived in stables and among the cows. The Moss Maidens, that could
do anything with leaves, even turning them into money, helped Styf, for
they too liked mischief. They teased men-folks, and enjoyed nothing
better than misleading the stupid fellows that fuddled their brains with
too much liquor.
Styf's especially famous trick was played on misers. It was this. When
he heard of any old fellow, who wanted to save the cost of candles, he
would get a kabouter to lead him off in the swamps, where the sooty
elves come out, on dark nights, to dance. Hoping to catch these lights
and use them for candles, the mean fellow would find himself in a swamp,
full of water and chilled to the marrow. Then the kabouters would laugh
loudly.
Old Styf had the most fun with another stingy fellow, who always scolded
children when he found them spending a penny. If he saw a girl buying
flowers, or a boy giving a copper coin for a waffle, he talked roughly
to them for wasting money. Meeting this miser one day, as he was walking
along the brick road, leading from the village, Styf offered to pay the
old man a thousand guilders, in exchange for four striped tulips, that
grew in his garden. The miser, thinking it real silver, eagerly took the
money and put it away in his iron strong box. The next night, when he
went, as he did three times a week, to count, and feel, and rub, and
gloat, over his cash, there was nothing but leaves in a round form.
These, at his touch, crumbled to pieces. The Moss Maidens laughed
uproariously, when the mean old fellow was mad about it.
But let no one suppose that the elves, because they were smarter than
stupid human beings, were always in mischief. No, no! They did, indeed,
have far more intelligence than dull grown folks, lazy boys, or careless
girls; but many good things they did. They sewed shoes for poor
cobblers, when they were sick, and made clothes for children, when the
mother was tired. When they were around, the butter came quick in the
churn.
When the blue flower of the flax bloomed in Holland, the earth, in
spring time, seemed like the sky. Old Styf then saw his opportunity to
do a good thing. Men thought it a great affair to have even coarse linen
tow for clothes. No longer need they hunt the wolf and deer in the
forest, for their garments. By degrees, they learned to make finer
stuff, both linen for clothes and sails for ships, and this fabric they
spread out on the grass until the cloth was well bleached. When taken
up, it was white as the summer clouds that sailed in the blue sky. All
the world admired the product, and soon the word "Holland" was less the
name of a country, than of a dainty fabric, so snow white, that it was
fit to robe a queen. The world wanted more and more of it, and the Dutch
linen weaver grew rich. Yet still there was more to come.
Now, on one moonlight night in summer, the lady elves, beautiful
creatures, dressed in gauze and film, with wings to fly and with feet
that made no sound, came down into the meadows for their fairy dances.
But when, instead of green grass, they saw a white landscape, they
wondered, Was it winter?
Surely not, for the air was warm. No one shivered, or was cold. Yet
there were whole acres as white as snow, while all the old fairy rings,
grass and flowers were hidden.
They found that the meadows had become bleaching grounds, so that the
cows had to go elsewhere to get their dinner, and that this white area
was all linen. However, they quickly got over their surprise, for elves
are very quick to notice things. But now that men had stolen a march on
them, they asked whether, after all, these human beings had more
intelligence than elves. Not one of these fairies but believed that men
and women were the inferiors of elves.
So, then and there, began a battle of wits.
"They have spoiled our dancing floor with their new invention; so we
shall have to find another," said the elfin queen, who led the party.
"They are very proud of their linen, these men are; but, without the
spider to teach them, what could they have done? Even a wild boar can
instruct these human beings. Let us show them, that we, also, can do
even more. I'll get Old Styf to put on his thinking cap. He'll add
something new that will make them prouder yet."
"But we shall get the glory of it," the elves shouted in chorus. Then
they left off talking and began their dances, floating in the air, until
they looked, from a distance, like a wreath of stars.
The next day, a procession of lovely elf maidens and mothers waited on
Styf and asked him to devise something that would excel the invention of
linen; which, after all, men had learned from the spider.
"Yes, and they would not have any grain fields, if they had not learned
from the wild boar," added the elf queen.
Old Styf answered "yes" at once to their request, and put on his red
thinking cap. Then some of the girl elves giggled, for they saw that he
did, really, look like a cock's comb. "No wonder they called him
Haan-e'-kam," said one elf girl to the other.
Now Old Styf enjoyed fooling, just for the fun of it, and he taught all
the younger elves that those who did the most work with their hands and
head, would have the most fun when they were old.
First of all, he went at once to see Fro, the spirit of the golden
sunshine and the warm summer showers, who owned two of the most
wonderful things in the world. One was his sword, which, as soon as it
was drawn out of its sheath, against wicked enemies, fought of its own
accord and won every battle. Fro's chief enemies were the frost giants,
who wilted the flowers and blasted the plants useful to man. Fro was
absent, when Styf came, but his wife promised he would come next day,
which he did. He was happy to meet all the elves and fairies, and they,
in turn, joyfully did whatever he told them. Fro knew all the secrets of
the grain fields, for he could see what was in every kernel of both the
stalks and the ripe ears. He arrived, in a golden chariot, drawn by his
wild boar which served him instead of a horse. Both chariot and boar
drove over the tops of the ears of wheat, and faster than the wind.
The Boar was named Gullin, or Golden Bristles because of its sunshiny
color and splendor. In this chariot, Fro had specimens of all the
grains, fruits, and vegetables known to man, from which Styf could
choose, for these he was accustomed to scatter over the earth.
When Styf told him just what he wanted to do, Fro picked out a sheaf of
wheat and whispered a secret in his ear. Then he drove away, in a burst
of golden glory, which dazzled even the elves, that loved the bright
sunshine. These elves were always glad to see the golden chariot coming
or passing by.
Styf also summoned to his aid the kabouters, and, from these ugly little
fellows, got some useful hints; for they, dwelling in the dark caverns,
know many secrets which men used to name alchemy, and which they now
call chemistry.
Then Styf fenced himself off from all intruders, on the top of a bright,
sunny hilltop, with his thinking cap on and made experiments for seven
days. No elves, except his servants, were allowed to see him. At the end
of a week, still keeping his secret and having instructed a dozen or so
of the elf girls in his new art, he invited all the elves in the Low
Countries to come to a great exhibition, which he intended to give.
What a funny show it was! On one long bench, were half a dozen washtubs;
and on a table, near by, were a dozen more washtubs; and on a longer
table not far away were six ironing boards, with smoothing irons. A
stove, made hot with a peat fire, was to heat the irons. Behind the tubs
and tables, stood the twelve elf maidens, all arrayed in shining white
garments and caps, as spotless as snow. One might almost think they were
white elves of the meadow and not kabouters of the mines. The wonder was
that their linen clothes were not only as dainty as stars, but that they
glistened, as if they had laid on the ground during a hoar frost.
Yet it was still warm summer. Nothing had frozen, or melted, and the
rosy-faced elf-maidens were as dry as an ivory fan. Yet they resembled
the lilies of the garden when pearly with dew-drops.
When all were gathered together, Old Styf called for some of the
company, who had come from afar, to take off their dusty and
travel-stained linen garments and give them to him. These were passed
over to the trained girls waiting to receive them. In a jiffy, they were
washed, wrung out, rinsed and dried. It was noticed that those
elf-maidens, who were standing at the last tub, were intently expecting
to do something great, while those five elf maids at the table took off
the hot irons from the stove. They touched the bottom of the flat-irons
with a drop of water to see if it rolled off hissing. They kept their
eyes fixed on Styf, who now came forward before all and said, in a loud
voice:
"Elves and fairies, moss maidens and stall sprites, one and all, behold
our invention, which our great friend Fro and our no less helpful
friends, the kabouters, have helped me to produce. Now watch me prove
its virtues."
Forthwith he produced before all a glistening substance, partly in
powder, and partly in square lumps, as white as chalk. He easily broke
up a handful under his fingers, and flung it into the fifth tub, which
had hot water in it. After dipping the washed garments in the white
gummy mass, he took them up, wrung them out, dried them with his breath,
and then handed them to the elf ironers. In a few moments, these held
up, before the company, what a few minutes before had been only dusty
and stained clothes. Now, they were white and resplendent. No fuller's
earth could have bleached them thus, nor added so glistening a surface.
It was starch, a new thing for clothes. The fairies, one and all,
clapped their hands in delight.
"What shall we name it?" modestly asked Styf of the oldest gnome
present.
"Hereafter, we shall call you Styf Sterk, Stiff Starch." They all
laughed.
Very quickly did the Dutch folks, men and women, hear and make use of
the elves' invention. Their linen closets now looked like piles of snow.
All over the Low Countries, women made caps, in new fashions, of lace or
plain linen, with horns and wings, flaps and crimps, with quilling and
with whirligigs. Soon, in every town, one could read the sign "Hier
mangled men" (Here we do ironing).
In time, kings, queens and nobles made huge ruffs, often so big that
their necks were invisible, and their heads nearly lost from sight, in
rings of quilled linen, or of lace, that stuck out a foot or so. Worldly
people dyed their starch yellow; zealous folk made it blue; but moderate
people kept it snowy white.
Starch added money and riches to the nation. Kings' treasuries became
fat with money gained by taxes laid on ruffs, and on the cargoes of
starch, which was now imported by the shipload, or made on the spot, in
many countries. So, out of the ancient grain came a new spirit that
worked for sweetness and beauty, cleanliness, and health. From a useful
substance, as old as Egypt, was born a fine art, that added to the sum
of the world's wealth and pleasure.
THE KABOUTERS AND THE BELLS
When the young queen Wilhelmina visited Brabant and Limburg, they amused
her with pageants and plays, in which the little fellows called
kabouters, in Dutch, and kobolds in German, played and showed off their
tricks. Other small folk, named gnomes, took part in the tableaux. The
kabouters are the dark elves, who live in forests and mines. The white
elves live in the open fields and the sunshine.
The gnomes do the thinking, but the kabouters carry out the work of
mining and gathering the precious stones and minerals. They are short,
thick fellows, very strong and are strenuous in digging out coal and
iron, copper and gold. When they were first made, they were so ugly,
that they had to live where they could not be seen, that is, in the dark
places. The grown imps look like old men with beards, but no one ever
heard of a kabouter that was taller than a yardstick. As for the babies,
they are hardly bigger than a man's thumb. The big boys and girls, in
the kabouter kingdom, are not much over a foot high.
[Illustration: THE MASTER OF THE CHOIR TRIED AGAIN AND AGAIN]
What is peculiar about them all is, that they help the good and wise
people to do things better; but they love to plague and punish the dull
folks, that are stupid, or foolish or naughty. In impish glee, they lure
the blockheads, or in Dutch, the "cheese-heads," to do worse.
A long time ago, there were no church spires or bells in the land of the
Dutch folks, as there are now by the thousands. The good teachers from
the South came into the country and taught the people to have better
manners, finer clothes and more wholesome food. They also persuaded them
to forget their cruel gods and habits of revenge. They told of the
Father in Heaven, who loves us all, as his children, and forgives us
when we repent of our evil doings.
Now when the chief gnomes and kabouters heard of the newcomers in the
land, they held a meeting and said one to the other:
"We shall help all the teachers that are good and kind, but we shall
plague and punish the rough fellows among them."
So word was sent to all little people in the mines and hills,
instructing them how they were to act and what they were to do.
Some of the new teachers, who were foreigners, and did not know the
customs of the country, were very rude and rough. Every day they hurt
the feelings of the people. With their axes they cut down the sacred
trees. They laughed scornfully at the holy wells and springs of water.
They reviled the people, when they prayed to great Woden, with his black
ravens that told him everything, or to the gentle Freya, with her white
doves, who helped good girls to get kind husbands. They scolded the
children at play, and this made their fathers and mothers feel
miserable. This is the reason why so many people were angry and sullen,
and would not listen to the foreign teachers.
Worse than this, many troubles came to these outsiders. Their bread was
sour, when they took it out of the oven. So was the milk, in their pans.
Sometimes they found their beds turned upside down. Gravel stones
rattled down into their fireplaces. Their hats and shoes were missing.
In fact, they had a terrible time generally and wanted to go back home.
When the kabouter has a grudge against any one, he knows how to plague
him.
But the teachers that were wise and gentle had no trouble. They
persuaded the people with kind words, and, just as a baby learns to eat
other food at the table, so the people were weaned away from cruel
customs and foolish beliefs. Many of the land's folk came to listen to
the teachers and helped them gladly to build churches.
More wonderful than this, were the good things that came to these kind
teachers, they knew not how. Their bread and milk were always sweet and
in plenty. They found their beds made up and their clothes kept clean,
gardens planted with blooming flowers, and much hard work done for them.
When they would build a church in a village, they wondered how it was
that the wood and the nails, the iron necessary to brace the beams, and
the copper and brass for the sacred vessels, came so easily and in
plenty. When, on some nights, they wondered where they would get food to
eat, they found, on waking up in the morning, that there was always
something good ready for them. Thus many houses of worship were built,
and the more numerous were the churches, the more did farms, cows, grain
fields, and happy people multiply.
Now when the gnomes and kabouters, who like to do work for pleasant
people, heard that the good teachers wanted church bells, to call the
people to worship, they resolved to help the strangers. They would make
not only a bell, or a chime, but, actually a carillon, or concert of
bells to hang up in the air.