THE FAIRY'S CAVE.
The old dame had built a fire in the corner of her cave, and sat, alone,
watching the embers.
Presently she heard a sound unlike the storm--a parting of the bushes
outside, a crackling of dry sticks upon the ground; and, all at once,
Daisy's bright face appeared, seeming to bring a sunshine into the
gloomy den.
Daisy was dripping with rain, and felt a little afraid that the dame
would scold her because her feet made wet tracks on the floor.
But the fairy seemed in a merry mood to-night--perhaps she was glad of
some one to keep her company. She laughed till the old cave rang again,
when her visitor told that she had been frightened by the storm; for she
said it was music in her ears, and ought to be in the ears of every
one.
So she drew a stool before the fire for Daisy, and, while wringing the
dampness from her dress, asked what had become of the spectacles.
"O, they are safe enough," answered Daisy. "I know now how much they are
worth, and what a splendid present you gave me, though it seemed so
poor. You are very good to us, dame."
"Better than I seem--always better than I seem," she muttered, looking
into the fire still. "Now, if you think so much of your glasses, put
them on."
Daisy wiped the water from them on a corner of the fairy's dress, for
her own was too wet, and did as she was told.
And, down, down miles beneath the cave, she saw fires burning, blazing,
flashing, flaming about, and filling the whole centre of the earth;
beside them the lightning was dull, and the old dame's fire seemed
hardly a spark.
She saw whole acres of granite--the hard stone that lay in pieces about
the wood, half covered with moss and violets; acres of this were rolling
and foaming like the river in a storm, melted and boiling in the fiery
flames.
"Why, in a few minutes, the cave itself, and all the earth, will melt,
and we shall be burned up," said Daisy, alarmed.
"O, no," laughed the fairy. "The fire was kindled thousands of years
before you were born; and the granite your violets grow upon has boiled
like this in its day; but we are not burned yet, and shall not be.
There's a bridge over the fire."
And, surely enough, when Daisy looked again, she saw great cold ribs of
rock rising above the flames and above the sea of boiling stone, up and
out, like arches on every side. Upon this rock the earth was heaped,
layer above layer, until on its outside countries, and cities, and great
forests were planted, and fastened together, it seemed, by rivers and
seas.
In the beds of rivers, in crevices of rock, in depths of the earth, were
hidden precious stones and metals; and where the rocks rose highest,
they formed what we call mountains, that buried their soaring heads in
the sky, and stretched along the earth for many hundred miles.
"What can this rock be made of?" asked Daisy. "Look!" and, to her
wonder, she saw that it was all little cells, crowded with insects of
different kinds. She asked the dame how many there were in one piece of
stone which she picked up, and which was about an inch square.
"About forty-one thousand millions of one kind, and many more of
another," she answered carelessly.
"You could not make Maud believe that," thought Daisy; and the dame, as
if seeing into her mind, continued,--
"But it is only the one little world we live in which you have seen thus
far: look above."
The roof of the cave seemed gone; and Daisy beheld the stars, not far
off and still, as they had always seemed, but close about her, whirling,
waltzing, chasing each other in circles, with such tremendous speed that
it made one dizzy to watch.
And they were no longer little points of light, but worlds like
ours--many of them larger than our earth, which was whirling too, and
seemed so small that Daisy hardly noticed it amidst the beaming suns.
There were no handles, no fastenings, no beams, or ropes, or anchors to
those flying worlds, that dashed along at such mad speed; she wondered
they did not strike against each other, and shatter, and fall.
"O, no," said the dame; "the Hand which made these worlds can keep them
in their places. But how many stars do you suppose there are?"
"O, I could not count them in a week."
"No, nor in a lifetime. It takes more than that to count one million;
and there are more than twenty million worlds."
"There will be no use in telling that to Maud," thought Daisy; "she'll
never believe me."
And again the fairy saw into her heart, and answered, "Only the pure in
heart can see God, and believe in him. Maud thinks there is no truth,
because her weak mind cannot grasp it.
"Now, Daisy, think that all these worlds are God's--made, and watched,
and loved by him. You see in many of them mountains such as the piece of
stone you looked into; you see rivers, earth, and sky; and I tell you
the truth when I say, that all of these are crowded, fuller than you can
dream, with creatures He has made. And cannot He who made the lightning
govern it? So, do not fear the howling of the storm again; it is your
Father's voice."
"How great he is! I am afraid of him!" said Daisy.
"You may well be afraid to offend him, but only that; for God is a
gentle, loving Father. He feels when the tiniest insect in this stone is
hurt; and the same mighty Hand that guides the stars, and roofs over the
fires that might burn up our earth,--the same Hand led you through the
storm to-night, or, Daisy, you would not have found my cave."
The dame's last words reminded Daisy that she had left her sister alone;
and though Maud had surprised her by saying that she need not hurry
back, Maud might have changed her mind, and complain of the very thing
she asked an hour before.
She flew home, therefore--falling many a time, and wounding her hands
with the sharp sticks in her path. Great trees were torn up by the
roots, and came crashing down, in the dark, scattering earth and pebbles
far and wide; but Daisy walked among them all unharmed, and was not even
frightened; for she knew some kind hand must be guiding her, and
thought of the Watchman who never sleeps.
Reaching the cabin, she found Maud in a quiet slumber; and, lying down
beside her, Daisy was soon dreaming over again all she had seen through
the spectacles.