big breakfast all to herself, after which she told her of some more of her
duties. Cherry was to keep in the kitchen, and clean the pots and pans
with water and sand, scald the milk, make the butter, and do anything else
she was told. Above all she was to avoid curiosity, to keep to the
kitchen, and never try to enter or look into a room that was locked.
Cherry felt that this was very hard, for, as I said before, she was full
of curiosity, and wanted to find out all she could about these strange
people she had got amongst. She could scarcely endure old Aunt Prudence
with her scoldings and growlings, for the old woman never ceased grumbling
at both the girl and her grandson-in-law for bringing her there.
"I knew Robin would bring some stupid thing from Zennor," she would say,
and she would scowl at Cherry until the girl grew quite nervous.
She tried to get as far away from the old woman as she could, but, as
Cherry said, the old soul seemed to have eyes all over her head, for she
always had one on Cherry, no matter where she was or what she was doing.
The happiest time of Cherry's life here was when her housework was done,
and her master called to her to come and help him in the garden; for he
was always kind and gentle to her, and always rewarded her with a word of
praise.
Aunt Prudence, though, was not always a cross old tyrant; she had her
kinder moods, and in one of them she told Cherry that if she was a good
girl, and did her work quickly, she would take her into those parts of the
house where she had been forbidden to go, and show her some of the
wonderful sights of the place!
Oh, how delighted Cherry was, and how she did hurry through her work!
She felt that now she was going to be made happy for the rest of her life,
and would have nothing left to wish for. She got through her work so
quickly, that it was still quite early when they started off together on
their sight-seeing.
First of all they came to a door opening out of a passage, and here Aunt
Prudence told Cherry to take off her shoes. This done, they opened the
door and entered, letting it fall silently behind them. The passage was
very low and very dark, and Cherry, who had to feel her way by the wall,
felt rather nervous, for she could not see where her next step would take
her. Before very long, though, they came to a room where the light was
bright, it was a beautiful room, with a floor like glass, but, oh, how
frightened Cherry was when she stepped into it! for ranged all round the
walls, on shelves or on the floor, were a lot of people turned to stone.
Some had no arms, others no legs, while of others there were only the head
and shoulders. Some heads had no ears, others had no noses, and some few
were without either.
Oh, it was a horrid sight, and Cherry was terribly frightened lest they
should all come to life suddenly, and set on her and tear off her limbs
too. She told Aunt Prudence, "she was mortal fear't of 'em, for she'd
heard tell on 'em up to Zennor, and everybody said there was never no
knowing what they wouldn't be up to. She'd thought all along that she'd
got in with the Little People, only her master was such a fine upstanding
man, she'd never have took him for a fairy."
Aunt Prudence only laughed at her, and seeing that she really was afraid,
took a greater pleasure in making her go further. There was a
curious-looking thing standing in the room, like a coffin on six legs, and
this Aunt Prudence insisted on Cherry's giving a good polishing to.
So Cherry had to set to and rub it with all her might and main, for she
dared not disobey the old lady; but the more she rubbed the more the old
lady scolded her to rub harder, and Cherry rubbed harder and harder and
harder, until at last she nearly upset the thing. She threw out her arms
and seized, but as it tottered it gave out the most soul-piercing,
unearthly yell it was possible for anyone ever to hear.
"They'm coming to life! They'm coming to life!" shrieked out Cherry, and
from sheer fright she fell on the floor in a fit.
All this noise and uproar reached the master's ears, and up he came,
to know what it was all about. And oh, he was angry when he found out.
First of all he ordered old Aunt Prudence out of the house then and there,
and then he picked up Cherry and carried her to the kitchen, where he soon
brought her to her senses again, but, strangely enough, she could not
remember what had happened, or why she was there. Her memory of what she
had seen had quite gone, and though she was always afraid, after that, to
go into that part of the house again, she could not remember in the least
why it was, or anything that had happened there.
Cherry felt much happier now, and did not worry herself about it, for Aunt
Prudence and her terrifying eye were gone, and she was left sole mistress.
So time passed on, and Cherry's master was so kind to her that the days
flew by like hours, and very soon a whole year was gone.
During all this time she had never once thought of her home, or her
parents, or her old life. She had everything she could wish, and you
would have thought she was bound to be happy; but no, nothing of the sort!
She soon grew accustomed to her happiness, and then she began to want the
things she had not got. Her curiosity increased every day. She longed to
know more about the mysterious part of the house, and a hundred other
things that she should never have troubled her head about.
She was particularly anxious to find out all about her master, for his
movements were certainly very strange, and puzzled Cherry. He went off
every morning soon after his early breakfast, and when he came back he
shut himself into the room where the stone figures were, and Cherry was
certain, for she had crept up and listened at the door, that she could
hear him talking to them!
What _could_ she do to get to know more, she wondered. She thought and
thought, and then one day her thoughts flew to the ointment. She had
often noticed how very bright and peculiar the little boy's eyes became
after she had anointed them, and that he often seemed able to see things
that were hidden from her.
Cherry grew very excited, she felt sure she had discovered the secret.
So the next morning, after she had bathed him and given him his breakfast,
she sent him away to play for a few minutes, and whisking out the ointment
pot again, she brushed the least bit of it over one of her eyes with the
tip of her finger.
Oh, how it burned and smarted! and oh, how she did rub her eye and try to
get the nasty stuff out! But it would not come. She ran to the stream
and knelt down to bathe it,--and as she knelt and looked in the water she
saw, at the very bottom, dozens and dozens of little people, playing and
dancing, and enjoying themselves as though they were on dry land.
And there, too, as gay as any, and as small as any, was her master
himself. Bewildered and frightened, Cherry sprang to her feet, but as she
turned to run she saw everything was changed. There were Little People
everywhere, hanging on the trees overhead, swarming over the ground at her
feet, swinging on the flowers, some astride the stalks, others curled up
in the cups, all exquisitely dressed, and flashing with gold and jewels;
and all as merry as crickets.
Cherry thought she was bewitched sure enough, and she was so frightened
she did not know what to do.
At night back rode her master, as big and handsome as ever, and very
unlike the little piskyman she had seen at the bottom of the water.
He went straight up to the locked-up room where the stone figures were,
and very soon Cherry heard sounds of most lovely music issuing thence.
So things went on day after day, the widower rode off every morning
dressed as any ordinary gentleman would be to follow the hounds, and never
came back again until night, when he retired at once to his own rooms.
All this was almost too much for poor Cherry's brain. She felt that if
she did not find out more, she should die of curiosity. Knowing so much
only made her long to know more.
At last, one night after her master had gone to the enchanted room, Cherry
crept up to the door, and instead of only listening at it as usual, she
knelt down and peeped through the keyhole, which, for once, was not
covered.
Inside the room she saw her master in the midst of a number of ladies,
some of whom were singing, and their voices sounded like silver bells;
others were walking about, but one, the most beautiful of all, was sitting
at the coffin on six legs, performing on it as though it were a piano.
She had long dark hair streaming right down to the floor, and a blue gown
all trimmed with sparkling silver, her shoes were blue with diamond stars
on the toes, and round her neck she had a string of turquoises set in
diamonds.
Poor Cherry was very much hurt and mortified when she saw her beloved
master with all those lovely ladies, but oh, how miserable she felt when
she saw him kiss the lovely lady in blue and silver! She did not say
anything, though,--indeed, she had no one to speak to,--and she went about
her work as usual, but the next morning when her master came into the
garden and began to talk to her as usual she answered him quite shortly
and rudely, and when he asked her what was the matter with her, she told
him to leave her to herself. If he wanted to talk he could go and talk to
the Little People he was so fond of.
Her master was very much surprised and annoyed when he heard this, for he
knew that she had been disobedient, and had used the Fairy Ointment.
He did not scold her, though, but he told her simply and mournfully, and
in a tone which gave her no hope, that they must part.
"You will have to go home, Cherry; you have disobeyed my orders. I can
have no one spying and watching me. I must send you away, my child."
He spoke so sadly that Cherry's heart felt as though it must break.
"And I must have Aunt Prudence back," he added, with a sigh.
Very, very unhappy was poor Cherry when she went to bed that night, and
she had only just cried herself to sleep when her master came and woke
her, telling her to get up and dress. Without a word, but choked with
sobs, she obeyed him, and when she was ready she found him waiting for
her, with a lantern and a large bundle of beautiful clothes that he had
tied up for her.
As soon as they had had some food they started, and miles and miles and
miles they walked, for the way seemed ten times as long as when they came.
For one thing it was all uphill now, and for another, Cherry's heart was
heavy, and a heavy heart makes heavy feet.
It was nearly daybreak when at last they reached the Lady Downs, and came
to a standstill. The sun was just rising over the great lonely moor.
"We must part now, my poor child," said her master. "You are severely
punished for your curiosity, but it cannot be otherwise. Good-bye,
Cherry; do your duty, and try to get the better of your failing, and if
you are a good girl I will come to these Downs sometimes to see you."
Then kissing her, he turned away and disappeared as suddenly as he had
first appeared.
Dazed and stupefied, scarcely able to realize all the trouble that had
befallen her, Cherry sat for a long time where he had left her. In her
thoughts she went over and over her happy life for the past year, all that
she had had, and lost. By and by the sun came out in its full strength
and warmed her, and roused her sufficiently to look about her, and wonder
what she should do next, for, of course, she could not stay where she was.
Presently she noticed that she was sitting on the very same stone at the
cross-roads where, on the day she left home, she had sat and cried, and
the strange gentleman had first appeared to her. The recollection brought
back to her more painfully than ever her own foolishness and wickedness,
and all that she had lost, and oh, how miserable she did feel, and how she
cried and cried, and how she longed and longed for her dear, good master
to come again and forgive her.
He did not come, though, and by and by, as the day had worn far on, Cherry
felt that she had better seek her home before nightfall. Listlessly
enough she rose and trudged along the old familiar roads to her father's
house, with miserable eyes she recognized the old landmarks, but without
any pleasure, until at last she came to the poor little hut she called
'home.' It looked poorer, and meaner, and more comfortless than ever,
after the luxuries she had grown accustomed to. Her mother and all the
rest of them were sitting at dinner when Cherry opened the door.
At the sound of the latch Mrs. Honey looked up, and gave one big screech.
"Why, 'tis Cherry!" she cried, "or her ghost! Cross her, father. Cross
her!" And when Cherry, taking no notice of her screams, advanced into the
kitchen, they all backed away from her, one on top of another, each trying
to get behind someone else, for they had long since made up their minds
that Cherry was dead, and never for a moment dreamed that this apparition
was Cherry herself, living flesh and blood.
Not until she flopped into a chair, saying wearily, "Give me a dish of
tay, mother, for goodness sake, I'm so wisht I don't know how to bear with
myself."
"Tisn't no ghost, mother," cried Tom Honey, his courage reviving; "no
ghost would want such poor trade as tay."
Then the others plucked up their spirits, too, and crowded round her,
asking a dozen questions, and all at the same time; and for the sake of
peace and quiet Cherry told them her wonderful adventures from the day she
left them, and, as was to be expected, not one believed a word of it.
"The maid's mazed," said her father, and the others agreed. But as time
went on Cherry repeated the tale so often, and always the same; and she
cried so bitterly for her master and his little boy, that they were
obliged to believe her, in spite of themselves. "There must be some truth
in it," they said, "it couldn't all be fancy."
Poor Cherry! She was never happy again after her experience. Many people
said she was bewitched, others declared she was wrong in her mind, but
that was only because whenever there was a moonlight night, she wandered
on the Lady Downs hour after hour, longing and hoping to see her master.
For hours together, too, she would sit on the stone at the four
cross-roads, in sunshine or snow, wind or rain, with the tears coursing
down her cheeks, and such a pain at her heart, that she hardly knew how to
endure it.
He never came, though. To all appearances he had entirely forgotten poor,
faulty Cherry, and by and by she died, unable to bear the loneliness any
longer.
THE FAIRIES ON THE GUMP.
Down by St. Just, not far from Cape Cornwall and the sea, is a small
hill,--or a very large mound would, perhaps, be the truer description,--
called 'The Gump,' where the Small People used to hold their revels, and
where our grandfathers and grandmothers used to be allowed to stand and
look on and listen.
In those good old times fairies and ordinary people were all good friends
together, and it is because they were all such friends and trusted one
another so, that our grandfathers and grandmothers were able to tell their
grandchildren so many tales about fairies, and piskies, and buccas, and
all the rest of the Little People.
People believed in the Fairies in those days, so the Fairies in return
often helped the people, and did them all sorts of kindnesses. Indeed,
they would do so now if folks had not grown so learned and disbelieving.
It seems strange that because they have got more knowledge of some
matters, they should have grown more ignorant of others, and declare that
there never were such things as Fairies, just because they have neither
the eyes nor the minds to see them!
Of course, no one could expect the sensitive little creatures to appear
when they are sneered at and scoffed at. All the same, though, they are
as much about us as ever they were, and if you or I, who do believe in the
Little People, were to go to the Gump on the right nights at the right
hour, we should see them feasting and dancing and holding their revels
just as of old. If, though, you do go, you must be very careful to keep
at a distance, and not to trespass on their fairy ground, for that is a
great offence, and woe be to you if you offend them!
There was, once upon a time, a grasping, mean old fellow who did so, and
pretty well he was punished for his daring. It is his story I am going to
tell you, but I will not tell you his name, for that would be unpleasant
for his descendants, but I will tell you this much,--he was a St. Just
man, and no credit to the place either, I am sure.
Well, this old man used to listen to the tales the people told of the
Fairies and their riches, and their wonderful treasures, until he could
scarcely bear to hear any more, he longed so to have some of those riches
for himself; and at last his covetousness grew so great, he said to
himself he must and would have some, or he should die of vexation.
So one night, when the Harvest Moon was at the full, he started off alone,
and very stealthily, to walk to the Gump, for he did not want his
neighbours to know anything at all about his plans. He was very nervous,
for it is a very desolate spot, but his greed was greater than his fear,
and he made himself go forward, though he longed all the time to turn tail
and hurry home to the safe shelter of his house and his bed.
When he was still at some distance from the enchanted spot, strains of the
most exquisite music anyone could possibly imagine reached his ear, and as
he stood listening it seemed to come nearer and nearer until, at last,
it was close about him. The most wonderful part, though, of it all was
that there was nothing to be seen, no person, no bird, not an animal even.
The empty moor stretched away on every side, the Gump lay bare and
desolate before him. The only living being on it that night was himself.
The music, indeed, seemed to come from under the ground, and such strange
music it was, too, so gentle, so touching, it made the old miser weep, in
spite of himself, and then, even while the tears were still running down
his cheeks, he was forced to laugh quite merrily, and even to dance,
though he certainly did not want to do either. After that it was not
surprising that he found himself marching along, step and step, keeping
time with the music as it played, first slowly and with stately tread,
then fast and lively.
All the time, though, that he was laughing and weeping, marching or
dancing, his wicked mind was full of thoughts as to how he should get at
the fairy treasure.
At last, when he got close to the Gump, the music ceased, and suddenly,
with a loud crashing noise which nearly scared the old man out of his
senses, the whole hill seemed to open as if by magic, and in one instant
every spot was lighted up. Thousands of little lights of all colours
gleamed everywhere, silver stars twinkled and sparkled on every
furze-bush, tiny lamps hung from every blade of grass. It was a more
lovely sight than one ever sees nowadays, more lovely than any pantomime
one has ever seen or ever will see. Then, out from the open hill marched
troops of little Spriggans.
Spriggans, you must know, are the Small People who live in rocks and
stones, and cromlechs, the most mischievous, thievish little creatures
that ever lived, and woe betide anyone who meddles with their
dwelling-places.
Well, first came all those Spriggans, then a large band of musicians
followed by troops of soldiers, each troop carrying a beautiful banner,
which waved and streamed out as though a brisk breeze were blowing,
whereas in reality there was not a breath of wind stirring.
These hosts of Little People quickly took up their places in perfect order
all about the Gump, and, though they appeared quite unconscious of his
presence, a great number formed a ring all round the old man. He was
greatly amazed, but, "Never mind," he thought, "they are such little
whipper-snappers I can easily squash them with my foot if they try on any
May-games with me."
As soon as the musicians, the Spriggans, and the soldiers had arranged
themselves, out came a lot of servants carrying most lovely gold and
silver vessels, goblets, too, cut out of single rubies, and diamonds, and
emeralds, and every kind of precious stone. Then came others bearing rich
meats and pastry, luscious fruits and preserves, everything, in fact, that
one could think of that was dainty and appetizing. Each servant placed
his burden on the tables in its proper place, then silently retired.
Can you not imagine how the glorious scene dazzled the old man, and how
his eyes glistened, and his fingers itched to grab at some of the
wonderful things and carry them off? He knew that even one only of those
flashing goblets would make him rich for ever.
He was just thinking that nowhere in the world could there be a more
beautiful sight, when, lo and behold! the illumination became twenty times
as brilliant, and out of the hill came thousands and thousands of
exquisitely dressed ladies and gentlemen, all in rows, each gentleman
leading a lady, and all marching in perfect time and order.
They came in companies of a thousand each, and each company was
differently attired. In the first the gentlemen were all dressed in
yellow satin covered with copper-coloured spangles, on their heads they
wore copper-coloured helmets with waving, yellow plumes, and on their feet
yellow shoes with copper heels. The flashing of the copper in the
moonlight was almost blinding. Their companions all were dressed alike in
white satin gowns edged with large turquoises, and on their tiny feet pale
blue shoes with buckles formed of one large turquoise set in pearls.
The gentlemen conducted the ladies to their places on the Gump, and with a
courtly bow left them, themselves retiring to a little distance. The next
troop then came up, in this the gentlemen were all attired in black,
trimmed with silver, silver helmets with black plumes, black stockings and
silver shoes. Their ladies were dressed in pink embroidered in gold, with
waving pink plumes in their hair, and golden buckles on their pink shoes.
In the next troop the men were dressed in blue and white, the ladies in
green, with diamonds all around the hem of the gown, diamonds flashing in
their hair, and hanging in long ropes from their necks; on their green
shoes single diamonds blazed and flashed.
So they came, troop after troop, more than I can describe, or you could
remember, only I must tell you that the last of all were the most lovely.
The ladies, all of whom had dark hair, were clad in white velvet lined
with the palest violet silk, while round the hems of the skirts and on the
bodices were bands of soft white swansdown. Swansdown also edged the
little violet cloaks which hung from their shoulders. I cannot describe
to you how beautiful they looked, with their rosy, smiling faces, and long
black curls. On their heads they wore little silver crowns set with
amethysts, amethysts, too, sparkled on their necks and over their gowns.
In their hands they carried long trails of the lovely blossom of the
wistaria. Their companions were clad in white and green, and in their
left hands they carried silver rods with emerald stars at the top.
It really seemed at one time as though the troops of Little People would
never cease pouring out of the hill. They did so at last, though, and as
soon as all were in their places the music suddenly changed, and became
more exquisite than ever.
The old man by this time seemed able to see more clearly, and hear more
distinctly, and his sense of smell grew keener. Never were such flashing
gems as here, never had any flowers such scents as these that were here.
There were now thousands of little ladies gathered on the Gump, and these
all broke out into song at the same instant, such beautiful singing, too,
so sweet and delicate. The words were in an unknown tongue, but the song
was evidently about some great personages who were about to emerge from
the amazing hill, for again it opened, and again poured forth a crowd of
Small People.
First of all came a bevy of little girls in white gauze, scattering
flowers, which, as soon as they touched the ground, sprang up into full
life and threw out leaves and more flowers, full of exquisite scents; then
came a number of boys playing on shells as though they were harps,
and making ravishing music, while after them came hundreds and hundreds of
little men clad in green and gold, followed by a perfect forest of banners
spreading and waving on the air.