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[Transcriber's Note: Lines 1712-1716 do not appear to be properly
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[Illustration: EACH SAW THAT THE OTHER WAS HIS BROTHER.]
THE STORY-TELLER
by MAUD LINDSAY
ILLUSTRATED BY FLORENCE LILEY YOUNG
BOSTON
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.
Published, August, 1915
Copyright, 1915,
BY LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.
* * * * *
_To my cousin
Judith Winston Sherrod
in whose joyous company I journeyed
through the wonderland of youth_
* * * * *
INTRODUCTION
It was a glad day in the olden time when the Story-Teller came to
cottage or hall. At Christmas, or New Year; when the May-pole stood on
the village green; or the chestnuts were roasting in the coals on
All-hallows eve; come when he would, he was always welcome; and if,
when he was least expected, he knocked at the door, what joy there
was!
Many were the miles that the Story-Teller had traveled, and many were
the places where he had been; and many were the tales he had to tell
of what he had seen and what he had heard in the wide world.
Sometimes his voice was deep and sweet as the organ in church on
Sunday; and sometimes it rang out clear as a bugle; and sometimes as
the tale went on he would take the harp which was ever by his side,
and touching it with skilful fingers, would weave a gay little song or
a tender strain of music into his story, like a jeweled thread in a
golden web.
All the children gathered around him, sturdy Gilbert and rosy Jocelyn,
roguish Giles and slender Rosalind, eager for a story. Mother and
father drew near, and in the background stood the servants, smiling
but silent. Oh, everything was still as the house at midnight as the
Story-Teller began his magic words: "Once upon a time."
Perhaps the story brought with it laughter, or perhaps a tear, but
Life, said the Story-Teller, is made up of smiles and tears; and the
little ones, listening to him, learned to rejoice with those whose joy
was great, and to mourn with the sorrowful; and were the better and
not the worse for it. And so in due time grew into noble men and good
women.
It is many and many a year since they lived and died; but
still--knock, knock, knock--the Story-Teller comes with his harp and
his story to every child's heart to-day.
Open the door and let him come in, give him a seat by the fire and
gather close about him. And then you shall hear!
MAUD LINDSAY.
_Sheffield, Alabama._
* * * * *
THE STORIES
THE TWO BROTHERS
THE JAR OF ROSEMARY
THE PROMISE
THE PLATE OF PANCAKES
LITTLE MAID HILDEGARDE
THE APPLE DUMPLING
THE KING'S SERVANT
THE GREAT WHITE BEAR
THE SONG THAT TRAVELED
THE QUEST FOR THE NIGHTINGALE
THE MAGIC FLOWER
THE LIONS IN THE WAY
* * * * *
ILLUSTRATIONS
Each saw that the other was his brother _Frontispiece_
She took the little prince in her arms and kissed him
The harper was happier than a king as he sat by his own fireside
Something seemed to whisper to him: "Stop, Karl, and eat"
Yes, there they came!
She saw an apple-tree as full of apples as her plum-tree was full of
plums
One of them took it in his mouth, and so brought it safely to Hans
"A bear!" cried the tailor
She leaned on the fence that divided the two
Straight to the Enchanted Wood they went
While she was watching and waiting, the flower burst into bloom
When he had come to the lions he found that they were chained
* * * * *
THE STORY-TELLER
THE TWO BROTHERS
Once upon a time there lived two brothers, who, when they were
children, were so seldom apart that those who saw one always looked
for the other at his heels.
But when they had grown to manhood, and the time had come when they
must make their own fortunes, the elder brother said to the younger:
"Choose as you will what you shall do, and God bless your choice; but
as for me I shall make haste to the court of the king, for nothing
will satisfy me but to serve him and my country."
"Good fortune and a blessing go with you," said the younger brother.
"I, too, should like to serve my country and the king, but I have
neither words nor wit for a king's court. To hammer a shoe from the
glowing iron while the red fire roars and the anvil rings--this is the
work that I do best, and I shall be a blacksmith, even as my father
was before me."
So when he had spoken the two brothers embraced and bade each other
good-bye and went on their ways; nor did they meet again till many a
year had come and gone.
The elder brother rode to the king's court just as he had said he
would; and as time went on he won great honor there and was made one
of the king's counselors.
And the younger brother built himself a blacksmith's shop by the side
of a road and worked there merrily from early morn till the stars
shone at night. He was called the Mighty Blacksmith because of his
strength, and the Honest Blacksmith because he charged no more than
his work was worth, and the Master Blacksmith because no other smith
in the countryside could shoe a horse so well and speedily as he. And
he was envious of nobody, for always as he worked his hammer seemed to
sing to him:
"Cling, clang, cling! Cling, clang, cling!
He who does his very best,
Is fit to serve the king."
Now in those days news came to the king of the country where the two
brothers lived that the duke of the next kingdom had made threats
against him, and against his people; and there was great excitement in
the land.
Some of the king's counselors wanted him to gather his armies and
march at once into the duke's kingdom.
"If we do not make war upon him, he will make war upon us," they said.
But some of the king's counselors loved peace, and among these was the
elder brother, in whom the king had great trust.
"Let me, I pray you, ride to the duke's castle," he said to the king,
"that we may learn from his own lips if he is friend or foe, for much
is told that is not true; and it is easier to begin a fight than it is
to end one."
The king was well pleased with all the elder brother said, and bade
him go.
"But if by the peal of the noon bells on the day before Christmas you
have neither brought nor sent a message of good will from the duke to
me, then shall those who want war have their way," he said, and with
this the elder brother had to be content.
Day and night he rode to the duke's castle, and day and night, when
his errand was done, he hastened home again. But the way was long and
a strong wind had blown away the sign-posts which guided travelers,
so, though he stopped neither to sleep in a bed or eat at a table the
whole journey through, the early hours of the day before Christmas
found him still far from the king's palace.
And to make matters worse, in the loneliest part of the road, the good
horse, that had carried him so well, lost a shoe.
"Alack and alas! for the want of a nail
The horseshoe is lost; and my good horse will fail
For the want of the shoe; and I shall be late
For want of a steed; and my message must wait
For want of a bearer; and woe is our plight,
For want of the message the king needs must fight!"[1]
cried the elder brother then; and he bowed his head upon his saddle
and wept, for where to turn for help he did not know.
The sun had not yet risen and no other traveler was on the road, nor
could he see through the dim light of dawn a house or watch-tower
where he might ask aid. But as he wept he heard a distant sound that
was sweeter than music to his ears:
"Cling, clang, cling! Cling, clang, cling!"
[Footnote 1: Adapted from the old proverb, "For want of a nail, the
shoe was lost," etc.]
"Only a blacksmith plays that tune!" he cried; and he urged his horse
on joyfully, calling as he went:
"Smith, smith, if you love country and king, shoe my horse, and shoe
him speedily."
It was not long before he spied the fire of a roadside smithy glaring
out upon him like a great red eye, and when he reached the door of the
shop he found the smith ready and waiting for his task.
Cling, clang, cling! How the iron rang beneath his mighty stroke! And
cling, clang, cling, how the hammer sang as the shoe was pounded into
shape!
By the time the sun was over the hill the horse was shod, and the
rider was in his saddle again.
But the blacksmith would take no money for his work.
"To serve my country and the king is pay enough for me," he said; and
he stood up straight and tall and looked the king's counselor in the
eyes.
And lo! and behold, as the morning light fell on their faces, each saw
that the other was his brother.
"God bless you, brother," and "God speed you, brother," was all that
they had time to say, but that was enough to show that love was still
warm in their hearts.
Then away, and away, and away, through the sun and the dew rode the
elder brother--away and away over hill and dale toward the king's
palace.
The king and his counselors were watching and waiting there, and as
the sun climbed high and the message did not come, those who wanted
war said:
"Shall we not saddle our horses, and call up our men?"
"The bells in the steeple have yet to ring for noon," said the
peace-lovers; "and we see a dust on the king's highway."
"Dust flies before wind," said the warriors, "and it is likelier that
our messenger lies in the duke's prison than rides on the king's
highway."
But with the dust came the sound of flying hoofs. Faster, faster,
faster, they came. When the first stroke of the noon hour pealed from
the church steeple the king's messenger was in sight, and the last
bell had not rung when he stood before the palace gate to deliver the
duke's message:
"Peace and good will to you and yours;
And to all a Merry Christmas."
Then the king sent for fine robes and a golden chain to be brought for
the elder brother, and put a purse of gold in his hand, for he was
well pleased with what he had done.
But the elder brother would have none of these things for himself
alone.
"Try as I would, I must have failed had it not been for my brother,
the blacksmith, who shod my horse on the road to-day," he said; "and,
if it please your majesty, half of all you give to me I will give to
him."
"Two good servants are better than one," said the king, and he sent
for the younger brother that he might thank him also.
Then the two brothers were clothed alike and feasted alike, and each
had a purse of gold; and whenever one was praised, so was the other.
And they lived happily, each in his own work, all the days of their
lives.
THE JAR OF ROSEMARY
There was once a little prince whose mother, the queen, was sick. All
summer she lay in bed, and everything was kept quiet in the palace;
but when the autumn came she grew better. Every day brought color to
her cheeks, and strength to her limbs, and by and by the little prince
was allowed to go into her room and stand beside her bed to talk to
her.
He was very glad of this for he wanted to ask her what she would like
for a Christmas present; and as soon as he had kissed her, and laid
his cheek against hers, he whispered his question in her ear.
"What should I like for a Christmas present?" said the queen. "A smile
and a kiss and a hug around the neck; these are the dearest gifts I
know."
But the prince was not satisfied with this answer. "Smiles and kisses
and hugs you can have every day," he said, "but think, mother, think,
if you could choose the thing you wanted most in all the world what
would you take?"
So the queen thought and thought, and at last she said:
"If I might take my choice of all the world I believe a little jar of
rosemary like that which bloomed in my mother's window when I was a
little girl would please me better than anything else."
The little prince was delighted to hear this, and as soon as he had
gone out of the queen's room he sent a servant to his father's
greenhouses to inquire for a rosemary plant.
But the servant came back with disappointing news. There were
carnation pinks in the king's greenhouses, and roses with golden
hearts, and lovely lilies; but there was no rosemary. Rosemary was a
common herb and grew, mostly, in country gardens, so the king's
gardeners said.
"Then go into the country for it," said the little prince. "No matter
where it grows, my mother must have it for a Christmas present."
So messengers went into the country here, there, and everywhere to
seek the plant, but each one came back with the same story to tell;
there was rosemary, enough and to spare, in the spring, but the frost
had been in the country and there was not a green sprig left to bring
to the little prince for his mother's Christmas present.
Two days before Christmas, however, news was brought that rosemary had
been found, a lovely green plant growing in a jar, right in the very
city where the prince himself lived.
"But where is it?" said he. "Why have you not brought it with you? Go
and get it at once."
"Well, as for that," said the servant who had found the plant, "there
is a little difficulty. The old woman to whom the rosemary belongs did
not want to sell it even though I offered her a handful of silver for
it."
"Then give her a purse of gold," said the little prince.
So a purse filled so full of gold that it could not hold another piece
was taken to the old woman; but presently it was brought back. She
would not sell her rosemary; no, not even for a purse of gold.
"Perhaps if your little highness would go yourself and ask her, she
might change her mind," said the prince's nurse. So the royal carriage
drawn by six white horses was brought, and the little prince and his
servants rode away to the old woman's house, and when they got there
the first thing they spied was the little green plant in a jar
standing in the old woman's window.
The old woman, herself, came to the door, and she was glad to see the
little prince. She invited him in, and bade him warm his hands by the
fire, and gave him a cooky from her cupboard to eat.
She had a little grandson no older than the prince, but he was sick
and could not run about and play like other children. He lay in a
little white bed in the old woman's room, and the little prince, after
he had eaten the cooky, spoke to him, and took out his favorite
plaything, which he always carried in his pocket, and showed it to
him.
The prince's favorite plaything was a ball which was like no other
ball that had ever been made. It was woven of magic stuff as bright as
the sunlight, as sparkling as the starlight, and as golden as the moon
at harvest time. And when the little prince threw it into the air, or
bounced it on the floor or turned it in his hands it rang like a chime
of silver bells.
The sick child laughed to hear it, and held out his hands for it, and
the prince let him hold it, which pleased the grandmother as much as
the child.
But pleased though she was she would not sell the rosemary. She had
brought it from the home where she had lived when her little
grandson's father was a boy, she said, and she hoped to keep it till
she died. So the prince and his servants had to go home without it.
No sooner had they gone than the sick child began to talk of the
wonderfull ball.
"If I had such a ball to hold in my hand," he said, "I should be
contented all the day."
"You may as well wish for the moon in the sky," said his grandmother;
but she thought of what he said, and in the evening when he was asleep
she put her shawl around her, and taking the jar of rosemary with her
she hastened to the king's palace.
When she got there the servants asked her errand but she would answer
nothing till they had taken her to the little prince.
"Silver and gold would not buy the rosemary," she said when she saw
him; "but if you will give me your golden ball for my little
grandchild you may have the plant."
"But my ball is the most wonderful ball that was ever made!" cried the
little prince; "and it is my favorite plaything. I would not give it
away for anything."
And so the old woman had to go home with her jar of rosemary under her
shawl.
The next day was the day before Christmas and there was a great stir
and bustle in the palace. The queen's physician had said that she
might sit up to see the Christmas Tree that night, and have her
presents with the rest of the family; and every one was running to and
fro to get things in readiness for her.
The queen had so many presents, and very fine they were, too, that the
Christmas Tree could not hold them all, so they were put on a table
before the throne and wreathed around with holly and with pine. The
little prince went in with his nurse to see them, and to put his gift,
which was a jewel, among them.
"She wanted a jar of rosemary," he said as he looked at the glittering
heap.
"She will never think of it again when she sees these things. You may
be sure of that," said the nurse.
But the little prince was not sure. He thought of it himself many
times that day, and once, when he was playing with his ball, he said
to the nurse:
"If I had a rosemary plant I'd be willing to sell it for a purse full
of gold. Wouldn't you?"
"Indeed, yes," said the nurse; "and so would any one else in his right
senses. You may be sure of that."
The little boy was not satisfied, though, and presently when he had
put his ball up and stood at the window watching the snow which had
come to whiten the earth for Christ's birthday, he said to the nurse:
"I wish it were spring. It is easy to get rosemary then, is it not?"
"Your little highness is like the king's parrot that knows but one
word with your rosemary, rosemary, rosemary," said the nurse who was a
little out of patience by that time. "Her majesty, the queen, only
asked for it to please you. You may be sure of that."
But the little prince was not sure; and when the nurse had gone to her
supper and he was left by chance for a moment alone, he put on his
coat of fur, and taking the ball with him he slipped away from the
palace, and hastened toward the old woman's house.
He had never been out at night by himself before, and he might have
felt a little afraid had it not been for the friendly stars that
twinkled in the sky above him.
"We will show you the way," they seemed to say; and he trudged on
bravely in their light, till, by and by, he came to the house and
knocked at the door.
[Illustration: SHE TOOK THE LITTLE PRINCE IN HER ARMS AND KISSED HIM.]
Now the little sick child had been talking of the wonderful ball
all the evening. "Did you see how it shone, grandmother? And did you
hear how the little bells rang?" he said; and it was just then that
the little prince knocked at the door.
The old woman made haste to answer the knock and when she saw the
prince she was too astonished to speak.
"Here is the ball," he cried, putting it into her hands. "Please give
me the rosemary for my mother."
And so it happened that when the queen sat down before her great table
of gifts the first thing she spied was a jar of sweet rosemary like
that which had bloomed in her mother's window when she was a little
girl.
"I should rather have it than all the other gifts in the world," she
said; and she took the little prince in her arms and kissed him.
THE PROMISE[2]
A Christmas Wonder Story for Older Children
There was once a harper who played such beautiful music and sang such
beautiful songs that his fame spread throughout the whole land; and at
last the king heard of him and sent messengers to bring him to the
palace.
[Footnote 2: This story was suggested by an old poem, told to me by
Miss Harriette Mills, which recounted the adventures of a father who
braved the snows of an Alpine pass to reach his home on Christmas
day.]
"I will neither eat nor sleep till I have seen your face and heard the
sound of your harp." This was the message the king sent to the harper.
The messengers said it over and over until they knew it by heart, and
when they reached the harper's house they called:
"Hail, harper! Come out and listen, for we have something to tell
you that will make you glad."
But when the harper heard the king's message he was sad, for he had a
wife and a child and a little brown dog; and he was sorry to leave
them and they were sorry to have him go.
"Stay with us," they begged; but the harper said:
"I _must_ go, for it would be discourtesy to disappoint the king; but
as sure as holly berries are red and pine is green, I will come back
by Christmas day to eat my share of the Christmas pudding, and sing
the Christmas songs by my own fireside."
And when he had promised this he hung his harp upon his back and went
away with the messengers to the king's palace.
When he got there the king welcomed him with joy, and many things were
done in his honor. He slept on a bed of softest down, and ate from a
plate of gold at the king's own table; and when he sang everybody and
everything, from the king himself to the mouse in the palace pantry,
stood still to listen.
No matter what he was doing, however, feasting or resting, singing or
listening to praises, he never forgot the promise that he had made to
his wife and his child and his little brown dog; and when the day
before Christmas came, he took his harp in his hand and went to bid
the king good-bye.
Now the king was loath to have the harper leave him, and he said to
him:
"I will give you a horse that is white as milk, as glossy as satin,
and fleet as a deer, if you will stay to play and sing before my
throne on Christmas day."
But the harper answered, "I cannot stay, for I have a wife and a child
and a little brown dog; and I have promised them to be at home by
Christmas day to eat my share of the Christmas pudding and sing the
Christmas songs by my own fireside."
Then the king said, "If you will stay to play and sing before my
throne on Christmas day I will give to you a wonderful tree that
summer or winter is never bare; and silver and gold will fall for you
whenever you shake this little tree."
But the harper said, "I must not stay, for my wife and my child and my
little brown dog are waiting for me, and I have promised them to be at
home by Christmas day to eat my share of the Christmas pudding and
sing the Christmas songs by my own fireside."
Then the king said, "If you will stay on Christmas day one tune to
play and one song to sing, I will give you a velvet robe to wear, and
you may sit beside me here with a ring on your finger and a crown on
your head."
But the harper answered, "I _will_ not stay, for my wife and my child
and my little brown dog are watching for me; and I have promised them
to be at home by Christmas day to eat my share of the Christmas
pudding and sing the Christmas songs by my own fireside." And he
wrapped his old cloak about him, and hung his harp upon his back, and
went out from the king's palace without another word.
He had not gone far when the little white snow-flakes came fluttering
down from the skies.
"Harper, stay," they seemed to say,
"Do not venture out to-day."
But the harper said, "The snow may fall, but I must go, for I have a
wife and a child and a little brown dog; and I have promised them to
be at home by Christmas day to eat my share of the Christmas pudding
and sing the Christmas songs by my own fireside."
Then the snow fell thick, and the snow fell fast. The hills and the
valleys, the hedges and hollows were white. The paths were all hidden,
and there were drifts like mountains on the king's highway. The
harper stumbled and the harper fell, but he would not turn back; and
as he traveled he met the wind.
"Brother Harper, turn, I pray;
Do not journey on to-day,"
sang the wind, but the harper would not heed.
"Snows may fall and winds may blow, but I must go on," he said, "for I
have a wife and a child and a little brown dog; and I have promised
them to be at home by Christmas day to eat my share of the Christmas
pudding and sing the Christmas songs by my own fireside."
Then the wind blew an icy blast. The snow froze on the ground and the
water froze in the rivers. The harper's breath froze in the air, and
icicles as long as the king's sword hung from the rocks on the king's
highway. The harper shivered and the harper shook, but he would not
turn back; and by and by he came to the forest that lay between him
and his home.
The trees of the forest were creaking and bending in the wind, and
every one of them seemed to say:
"Darkness gathers, night is near;
Harper, stop! Don't venture here."
But the harper would not stop. "Snows may fall, winds may blow, and
night may come, but I have promised to be at home by Christmas day to
eat my share of the Christmas pudding and sing the Christmas songs by
my own fireside. I must go on."
And on he went till the last glimmer of daylight faded, and there was
darkness everywhere. But the harper was not afraid of the dark.
"If I cannot see I can sing," said he, and he sang in the forest
joyously:
"Sing glory, glory, glory!
And bless God's holy name;
For 'twas on Christmas morning,
The little Jesus came.
"He wore no robes; no crown of gold
Was on His head that morn;
But herald angels sang for joy,
To tell a King was born."
[Illustration: THE HARPER WAS HAPPIER THAN A KING AS HE SAT BY HIS OWN
FIRESIDE.]
The snow ceased its falling, the wind ceased its blowing, the trees of
the forest bowed down to listen, and, lo! dear children, as he sang
the darkness turned to wondrous light, and close at hand the harper
saw the open doorway of his home.
The wife and the child and the little brown dog were watching and
waiting, and they welcomed the harper with great joy. The holly
berries were red in the Christmas wreaths; their Christmas tree was a
young green pine; the Christmas pudding was full of plums; and the
harper was happier than a king as he sat by his own fireside to sing:
"O glory, glory, glory!
We praise God's holy name;
For 'twas to bring His wondrous love,
The little Jesus came.
"And in our hearts it shines anew,
While at His throne we pray,
God bless us all for Jesus' sake,
This happy Christmas day."
[Illustration: Music]
THE HARPER'S SONG
Words, MAUD LINDSAY
Music, ELSIE A. MERRIMAN
1. Sing glo-ry, glo-ry, glo-ry! And bless God's ho-ly name;
2. O glo-ry, glo-ry, glo-ry! We praise God's ho-ly name;
For 'twas on Christmas morn-ing, The lit-tle Je-sus came.
For 'twas to bring His wondrous love, The lit-tle Je-sus came.
He wore no robes; no crown of gold Was on His head that morn; But
And in our hearts it shines a-new, While at His throne we pray, God
her-ald an-gels sang for joy, To tell a King was born.
bless us all for Je-sus' sake, This hap-py Christ-mas day.
THE PLATE OF PANCAKES
Once upon a time a woman was frying some pancakes, and as she turned
the last cake in the pan she said to her little boy:
"If you were a little older I should send you with some of these fine
cakes for your father's dinner, but as it is, he must wait till supper
for them."
"Oh, do let me take them," said the little boy, whose name was Karl.
"Just see how tall I am. And only yesterday my grandmother said I was
old enough to learn my letters. Do let me go!"
And he begged and begged till at last she selected the brownest and
crispest cakes, and putting them in a plate with a white napkin over
them she bade him take them.
Now the path that led from Karl's home to the saw-mill where his
father worked was straight enough, and plain enough, but it ran
through the wood that was called Enchanted. Fairies lived there, so
some people thought, and goblins that liked to work mischief; and
never before had the little boy been allowed to go there alone.
As he hurried along with the plate of pancakes in his hand he glanced
into every green thicket that he passed, half hopeful, and half
fearful that he might find a tiny creature hidden in the leaves. Not a
glimpse of fairy or goblin did he see, but when he came to the
blackberry bushes where the sweetest berries grow something seemed to
whisper to him: "Stop, Karl, and eat."
"But I am taking a plate of pancakes for my father's dinner," said
Karl speaking aloud.
"A moment or two will make no difference. You can run fast," came the
whisper again.
[Illustration: SOMETHING SEEMED TO WHISPER TO HIM: "STOP, KARL, AND
EAT."]
"Oh, yes, I can run fast," said Karl; and he put the plate down under
the bushes and began to pick the berries. They were as ripe and
sweet as they had looked and every one that the little boy put into
his mouth made him wish for another; and if he turned away from the
bushes the whisper was sure to come: "One more and then go."
The pancakes grew cold in the plate, and the sun which had been high
in the sky when Karl started from home slipped farther and farther
into the west; but still he lingered, till suddenly the evening
whistle of the mill sounded sharp and shrill in his ears.
"Why, it is time for my father to come home," he cried. "Dear me, dear
me, what shall I do?"
There was nothing for him to do but to go home, so home he went with
the plate of cold pancakes in his hand and the tears rolling down his
cheeks.
When he told his mother and grandmother what had happened they looked
at each other wisely as if they thought more about it than they would
say; but they bade him dry his tears.
"You will be more careful another time," they said; and so the matter
ended.
But Karl did not forget it. It was many a month before his mother
fried pancakes again, but no sooner did he see her turning the cakes
in the pan than he said:
"I wish my father had some of these fine cakes for his dinner, don't
you, mother?"
"Indeed I do," said she, smiling at his grandmother as she spoke; and
as soon as the cakes were done she selected the brownest and crispest,
and putting them in a plate with a white napkin over them, she bade
him take them.
"I'll get there in time for my father's dinner to-day," he said as he
started out; but in a very short while he was back with an empty plate
in his hand, and the tears rolling down his cheeks.
"I only put the plate down for a minute while I chased a rabbit that
said, 'If you catch me you may have me;' and when I came back every
pancake was gone," he sobbed.
His mother and grandmother looked at each other wisely when they heard
this.
"It is just as I thought the first time," said his mother. "The
goblins are at work in the wood. He must never go there again."
But to this the grandmother would not agree.
"Leave it to me," she said, and the very next day she fried pancakes,
and selecting the brownest and crispest she put them in a plate with a
white napkin over them and bade Karl take them to his father.
"And if any bid you stop or stay, or turn your feet from out your way,
say but the word that is spelled with the fourteenth and fifteenth
letters of the alphabet three times in a loud voice, and all will go
well with you," she said.
"All right," said Karl, nodding his head proudly, for he knew all his
letters by this time and could spell hard words like c-a-t, cat,
m-a-t, mat. "All right," but he did not stop to count the letters then
for he was in a great hurry to be off.
"I guess my father will be glad to get such fine pancakes for his
dinner," he said; and he ran so fast that he was half-way to the mill
before he knew it.
There was no whispering voice in the wood that day and no talking
rabbit to tempt him to a chase; but as he came to a place where
another path crossed his own, a bird called out from the heart of the
wood:
"Quick, quick, come here, here, here----"
"Where, where?" cried Karl; and he was just about to start in search
of the bird when he remembered what his grandmother had said:
"If any bid you stop or stay, or turn your feet from out your way, say
but the word that is spelled with the fourteenth and fifteenth letters
of the alphabet three times in a loud voice, and all will go well with
you."
"A, B, C, D, E, F, G," he chanted, counting the letters on his fingers
as he said them, "H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O:" N was the fourteenth letter
and O was the fifteenth. N-O; that was easy.
"No! No! No!" he shouted; and--do you believe it?--in less time than
it takes to tell it he was at the mill door with every pancake safe
and hot.
And the story goes that though he came and went through the Enchanted
Wood all the days of his life he was never hindered by anything there
again; and he never saw a goblin though he lived to be as old as his
grandmother had been when he was a little boy.
LITTLE MAID HILDEGARDE
One evening Little Maid Hildegarde's father came home with wonderful
news; the knights were coming to town. He had heard it as he came from
the forest where he cut wood all day and he hurried every step of the
way home to tell Hildegarde and her mother.
"They are on the king's business and will be at the Church Square
to-morrow morning at the hour of ten. Everybody in town will be there
to see them. Old Grandmother Grey is going to ask them to ride in
search of her little lamb that has gone astray; and the mayor will
tell them of the wolves that come in the winter. The good knights are
always glad to help," he said.
Little Maid Hildegarde knew all about the knights. Her father was
never tired of telling, or she of hearing, how they fought and killed
the fierce dragon that had troubled the people of the border; and put
out the forest fires in the time of the great drought and fed the
hungry when the famine was in the land. And yet with all of their
great deeds they were merry men, not too proud to sing at a feast or
play with a child.
And many an evening, though Hildegarde was growing to be a great girl,
her mother sat by her bed to sing a song that she had sung to her when
she was a babe in the cradle:
"Hush, my baby, do not cry,
Five brave knights go riding by.
One is dressed in bonny blue;
He's the leader, strong and true.
One is clad from head to toe
In an armor white as snow.
"One in crimson bright is drest,
With a star upon his breast.
One in gold and one in green,
Cloth of gold and satin sheen.
Hush, my baby, do not cry,
Five brave knights go riding by."
Oh, how Hildegarde had longed to see those splendid riders! And now at
last she was to have her heart's desire. It seemed almost too good to
be true.
"Shall we start to town as soon as the new day comes?" she asked.
"Just as soon as the cows are taken to the pasture, and the little
chicks are fed," said her mother; and the little maid went to bed well
satisfied.
But alas, for Hildegarde and her hopes! The morning sun had scarcely
shone when her mother awoke with a terrible pain in her head, and her
father slipped on his way to the barn and sprained his foot so he
could not walk. And there was no one to take the child to the Church
Square. No, not even a neighbor, for Hildegarde and her mother and
father lived apart from every one else, and the wood that is called
Enchanted lay between them and the town.
There was no help for it. Hildegarde knew herself, without a word from
any one, that she could not go; but as she ran about the house to wait
on them, she heard her mother and father talking.
"It is not for the pain in my face that I grieve," said the good
mother; "but for the disappointment of our little maid."
"Aye," said the father, "I would bear my hurt, and more too,
willingly, if only she might see the gallant knights."
And when Hildegarde heard what they said she made haste to wipe away
the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks, and went about her
work with a pleasant face.
All day long she was busy for there were the cows to take to the
pasture, and the little chicks to feed, and the eggs to gather; but at
sunset her tasks were done, and with her doll in her arms she sat in
the doorway of the house and looked away toward the town, the towers
of which just showed above the Enchanted Wood.
Highest of all was the spire of the church that stood in the square
where the knights had been; and as Hildegarde watched it change from
grey to gold in the sunset glow, she thought of them and wondered
where they had gone when their business was done.
Some day they would come again and then she should surely see them,
her father said; and already she had begun to look forward to that
time.
"Perhaps they will come when the wolves do in the winter," she said to
herself; but scarcely had she spoken when through an opening in the
wood she spied a horseman riding at a stately pace. Behind him came
another, and another till she had counted five--five brave knights!
Yes, there they came with prancing steeds and shining shields, and
splendid clothes!
One bore a banner blue as the sky on a summer's day, and the next held
a wee lamb close within his arms. A dragon's head hung from another's
saddle, and two had bugles by their sides.
Not a word was spoken. As silently as the stars shine out at evening
they passed the door where the child sat wonder-struck; and as quietly
as the sun goes down at the day's end they vanished into the wood
again before she could move or call. But just as the green of the last
one's coat faded away into the green of the trees, Hildegarde thought
she heard a strain of sweetest music!
Now there were those, and Hildegarde's mother and father were among
them, who believed that the little maid, tired from her long busy day,
had fallen asleep, and dreamed a beautiful dream.
But as for Hildegarde, she kept the vision in her heart alway; and
when as the years went by she had little ones of her own to rock to
sleep, she told them of it, and sang to them as her mother had sung to
her:
[Illustration: Music]
FIVE BRAVE KNIGHTS
Words, MAUD LINDSAY
Air, Old Song
Hush, my ba-by, do not cry, Five brave knights go rid-ing by.
One is dressed in bon-ny blue; He's the lead-er, strong and true.
One is clad from head to toe In an ar-mor white as snow.
One in crim-son bright is drest, With a star up-on his breast.
One in gold and one in green, Cloth of gold and sat-in sheen.
Hush, my ba-by, do not cry, Five brave knights go rid-ing by.
[Illustration: YES, THERE THEY CAME!]
THE APPLE DUMPLING
There was once upon a time an old woman who wanted an apple dumpling
for supper. She had plenty of flour and plenty of butter, plenty of
sugar and plenty of spice for a dozen dumplings, but there was one
thing she did not have; and that was an apple.
She had plums, a tree full of them, the roundest and reddest that you
can imagine; but, though you can make butter from cream and raisins of
grapes, you cannot make an apple dumpling with plums, and there is no
use trying.
The more the old woman thought of the dumpling the more she wanted it,
and at last she dressed herself in her Sunday best and started out to
seek an apple.
Before she left home, however, she filled a basket with plums from
her plum-tree and, covering it over with a white cloth, hung it on her
arm, for she said to herself: "There may be those in the world who
have apples, and need plums."
She had not gone very far when she came to a poultry yard filled with
fine hens and geese and guineas. Ca-ca, quawk, quawk, poterack! What a
noise they made; and in the midst of them stood a young woman who was
feeding them with yellow corn. She nodded pleasantly to the old woman,
and the old woman nodded to her; and soon the two were talking as if
they had known each other always.
The young woman told the old woman about her fowls and the old woman
told the young woman about the dumpling and the basket of plums for
which she hoped to get apples.
"Dear me," said the young woman when she heard this, "there is nothing
my husband likes better than plum jelly with goose for his Sunday
dinner, but unless you will take a bag of feathers for your plums he
must do without, for that is the best I can offer you."
"One pleased is better than two disappointed," said the old woman
then; and she emptied the plums into the young woman's apron and
putting the bag of feathers into her basket trudged on as merrily as
before; for she said to herself:
"If I am no nearer the dumpling than when I left home, I am at least
no farther from it; and that feathers are lighter to carry than plums
nobody can deny."
Trudge, trudge, up hill and down she went, and presently she came to a
garden of sweet flowers; lilies, lilacs, violets, roses--oh, never was
there a lovelier garden!
The old woman stopped at the gate to look at the flowers; and as she
looked she heard a man and a woman, who sat on the door-step of a
house that stood in the garden, quarreling.
"Cotton," said the woman.
"Straw," said the man.
"'Tis not--"
"It is," they cried, and so it went between them, till they spied the
old woman at the gate.
"Here is one who will settle the matter," said the woman then; and she
called to the old woman:
"Good mother, answer me this: If you were making a cushion for your
grandfather's chair would you not stuff it with cotton?"
"No," said the old woman.
"I told you so," cried the man. "Straw is the thing, and no need to go
farther than the barn for it;" but the old woman shook her head.
"I would not stuff the cushion with straw," said she; and it would
have been hard to tell which one was the more cast down by her
answers, the man or the woman.
But the old woman made haste to take the bag of feathers out of her
basket, and give it to them.
"A feather cushion is fit for a king," she said, "and as for me, an
apple for a dumpling, or a nosegay from your garden will serve me as
well as what I give."
The man and the woman had no apples, but they were glad to exchange a
nosegay from their garden for a bag of fine feathers, you may be sure.
"There is nothing nicer for a cushion than feathers," said the woman.
"My mother had one made of them," said the man; and they laughed like
children as they hurried into the garden to fill the old woman's
basket with the loveliest posies; lilies, lilacs, violets, roses--oh!
never was there a sweeter nosegay.
"A good bargain, and not all of it in the basket," said the old woman,
for she was pleased to have stopped the quarrel, and when she had
wished the two good fortune and a long life, she went upon her way
again.
Now her way was the king's highway, and as she walked there she met a
young lord who was dressed in his finest clothes, for he was going to
see his lady love. He would have been as handsome a young man as ever
the sun shone on had it not been that his forehead was wrinkled into a
terrible frown, and the corners of his mouth drawn down as if he had
not a friend left in the whole world.
"A fair day and a good road," said the old woman, stopping to drop him
a courtesy.
"Fair or foul, good or bad, 'tis all one to me," said he, "when the
court jeweler has forgotten to send the ring he promised, and I must
go to my lady with empty hands."
"Empty hands are better than an empty heart," said the old woman; "but
then we are young only once; so you shall have a gift for your lady
though I may never have an apple dumpling." And she took the nosegay
from her basket and gave it to the young lord which pleased him so
much that the frown smoothed away from his forehead, and his mouth
spread itself in a smile, and he was as handsome a young man as ever
the sun shone on.
"Fair exchange is no robbery,"[3] said he, and he unfastened a golden
chain from round his neck and gave it to the old woman, and went away
holding his nosegay with great care.
[Footnote 3: An old saying.]
The old woman was delighted.
"With this golden chain I might buy all the apples in the king's
market, and then have something to spare," she said to herself, as she
hurried away toward town as fast as her feet could carry her.
But she had gone no farther than the turn of the road when she came
upon a mother and children, standing in a doorway, whose faces were as
sorrowful as her own was happy.
"What is the matter?" she asked as soon as she reached them.
"Matter enough," answered the mother, "when the last crust of bread
is eaten and not a farthing in the house to buy more."
"Well-a-day," cried the old woman when this was told her. "Never shall
it be said of me that I eat apple dumpling for supper while my
neighbors lack bread;" and she put the golden chain into the mother's
hands and hurried on without waiting for thanks.
She was not out of sight of the house, though, when the mother and
children, every one of them laughing and talking as if it were
Christmas or Candlemas day, overtook her.
"Little have we to give you," said the mother who was the happiest of
all, "for that you have done for us, but here is a little dog, whose
barking will keep loneliness from your house, and a blessing goes with
it."
The old woman did not have the heart to say them nay, so into the
basket went the little dog, and very snugly he lay there.
[Illustration: SHE SAW AN APPLE-TREE AS FULL OF APPLES AS HER
PLUM-TREE WAS FULL OF PLUMS.]
"A bag of feathers for a basket of plums; a nosegay of flowers for a
bag of feathers; a golden chain for a nosegay of flowers; a dog and a
blessing for a golden chain; all the world is give and take, and who
knows but that I may have my apple yet," said the old woman as she
hurried on.
And sure enough she had not gone a half dozen yards when, right before
her, she saw an apple-tree as full of apples as her plum-tree was full
of plums. It grew in front of a house as much like her own as if the
two were peas in the same pod; and on the porch of the house sat a
little old man.
"A fine tree of apples!" called the old woman as soon as she was in
speaking distance of him.
"Aye, but apple-trees and apples are poor company when a man is
growing old," said the old man; "and I would give them all if I had
even so much as a little dog to bark on my door-step."
"Bow-wow!" called the dog in the old woman's basket, and in less time
than it takes to read this story he was barking on the old man's
door-step, and the old woman was on her way home with a basket of
apples on her arm.
She got there in plenty of time to make the dumpling for supper, and
it was as sweet and brown a dumpling as heart could desire.
"If you try long enough and hard enough you can always have an apple
dumpling for supper," said the old woman; and she ate the dumpling to
the very last crumb; and enjoyed it, too.
THE KING'S SERVANT[4]
There was once upon a time a faithful servant whose name was Hans. He
served the king his master so long and so well that one day the king
said to him:
"Speak, Hans, and tell me what three things do you most desire that I
may give them to you as a reward for your faithfulness."
[Footnote 4: Adapted with a free hand from Grimm's "White Snake."]
It did not take Hans long to answer the king.
"If you please, your majesty," he said, "I should like best in all the
world to go to see my mother; to have a horse on which to ride upon my
journey; and to taste the food that lies hidden in the silver dish
that comes each day to your majesty's table."
And when the king heard this he made haste to send for the silver
dish and lifting the lid with his own hand he bade Hans taste of the
food inside. What this food was, neither I nor anybody else can tell
you, but no sooner had Hans tasted it than he understood what
everything in the world was saying, from the birds in the tree-tops to
the hens in the king's poultry yard.
"Good-bye, Hans," they called as Hans mounted the horse which the king
gave him and rode away through the gate.
"Good-bye," said Hans, and he cantered off in fine style down the
king's highway.
Before he had ridden far, however, he heard such a moaning and
complaining by the roadside that he stopped his horse to see what the
matter was; and--do you believe it?--it was the ant people whose
ant-hill stood in the way, right where Hans was about to ride.
"See, see!" they cried, running to and fro in great alarm. "This giant
of a man on his terrible horse will ride over our new house and crush
us to death."
"Not I," said Hans. "If so much as one of you gets under my horse's
hoofs it will be your fault and not mine;" and getting down from his
horse he led him around the ant-hill and into the road on the other
side.
"One good turn deserves another," cried the ant people running to and
fro in great joy. "You have helped us, and we will help you some day;"
and they were still saying this when Hans mounted his horse and rode
away.
Now before long Hans came to a great forest and as he rode under the
spreading branches of the trees he heard a cry for help in the woods.
"What can this be?" said Hans; but the very next minute he saw two
young birds lying beneath a tree, beating their wings upon the ground
and crying aloud:
"Alas! Alas! Who will put us into the nest again?"
"I, the king's servant and my mother's son; I will put you into the
nest again," said Hans, and he was as good as his word.
"One good turn deserves another," called the birds when they were safe
in their nest once more. "You have helped us, and we will help you
some day."
Hans laughed to hear them, for though it was easy for him to help them
he could not think what they might do for him.
Trot, trot, and gallop, gallop he rode through the forest till he came
to a stream of water beside which lay three panting fishes.
"We shall surely die unless we can get into the water," they cried.
Their breath was almost gone and their voices were no louder than the
faintest whisper, but Hans understood every word that they said; and
he jumped from his horse and threw them into the stream.
"One good turn deserves another," they cried as they swam merrily
away. "You have helped us, and we will help you some day."
Now it so happened that Hans came by and by to the land of a very
wicked king who broke his promises as easily as if they were made of
spun glass and who never thought of anybody but himself.
No sooner had Hans come into the land than the king stopped him and
would not let him go on.
"No one shall pass through my kingdom," he said, "till he has done one
piece of work for me."