This is to tell of our little Mistress Merciless, who for a season
abided with us, but is now and forever gone from us unto the far-off
land of Ever-Plaisance. The tale is soon told; for it were not seemly
to speak all the things that are in one's heart when one hath to say of
a much-beloved child, whose life here hath been shortened so that, in
God's wisdom and kindness, her life shall be longer in that garden that
bloometh far away.
You shall know that all did call her Mistress Merciless; but her
mercilessness was of a sweet, persuasive kind: for with the beauty of
her face and the music of her voice and the exceeding sweetness of her
virtues was she wont to slay all hearts; and this she did unwittingly,
for she was a little child. And so it was in love that we did call her
Mistress Merciless, just as it was in love that she did lord it over
all our hearts.
Upon a time walked she in a full fair garden, and there went with her
an handmaiden that we did call in merry wise the Queen of Sheba; for
this handmaiden was in sooth no queen at all, but a sorry and
ill-favored wench; but she was assotted upon our little Mistress
Merciless and served her diligently, and for that good reason was
vastly beholden of us all. Yet, in a jest, we called her the Queen of
Sheba; and I make a venture that she looked exceeding fair in the eyes
of our little Mistress Merciless: for the eyes of children look not
upon the faces but into the hearts and souls of others. Whilst these
two walked in the full fair garden at that time they came presently
unto an arbor wherein there was a rustic seat, which was called the
Siege of Restfulness; and hereupon sate a little sick boy that, from
his birth, had been lame, so that he could not play and make merry with
other children, but was wont to come every day into this full fair
garden and content himself with the companionship of the flowers. And,
though he was a little lame boy, he never trod upon those flowers; and
even had he done so, methinks the pressure of those crippled feet had
been a caress, for the little lame boy was filled with the spirit of
love and tenderness. As the tiniest, whitest, shrinking flower
exhaleth the most precious perfume, so in and from this little lame
boy's life there came a grace that was hallowing in its beauty.
Since they never before had seen him, they asked him his name; and he
answered them that of those at home he was called Master Sweetheart, a
name he could not understand: for surely, being a cripple, he must be a
very sorry sweetheart; yet, that he was a sweetheart unto his mother at
least he had no doubt, for she did love to hold him in her lap and call
him by that name; and many times when she did so he saw that tears were
in her eyes,--a proof, she told him when he asked, that Master
Sweetheart was her sweetheart before all others upon earth.
It befell that our little Mistress Merciless and Master Sweetheart
became fast friends, and the Queen of Sheba was handmaiden to them
both; for the simple, loyal creature had not a mind above the artless
prattle of childhood, and the strange allegory of the lame boy's speech
filled her with awe, even as the innocent lisping of our little
Mistress Merciless delighted her heart and came within the
comprehension of her limited understanding. So each day, when it was
fair, these three came into the full fair garden, and rambled there
together; and when they were weary they entered into the arbor and sate
together upon the Siege of Restfulness. Wit ye well there was not a
flower or a tree or a shrub or a bird in all that full fair garden
which they did not know and love, and in very sooth every flower and
tree and shrub and bird therein did know and love them.
When they entered into the arbor, and sate together upon the Siege of
Restfulness, it was Master Sweetheart's wont to tell them of the land
of Ever-Plaisance, for it was a conceit of his that he journeyed each
day nearer and nearer to that land, and that his journey thitherward
was nearly done. How came he to know of that land I cannot say, for I
do not know; but I am fain to believe that, as he said, the exceeding
fair angels told him thereof when by night, as he lay sleeping, they
came singing and with caresses to his bedside.
I speak now of a holy thing, therefore I speak truth when I say that
while little children lie sleeping in their beds at night it pleaseth
God to send His exceeding fair angels with singing and caresses to bear
messages of His love unto those little sleeping children. And I have
seen those exceeding fair angels bend with folded wings over the little
cradles and the little beds, and kiss those little sleeping children
and whisper God's messages of love to them, and I knew that those
messages were full of sweet tidings; for, even though they slept, the
little children smiled. This have I seen, and there is none who loveth
little children that will deny the truth of this thing which I have now
solemnly declared.
Of that land of Ever-Plaisance was our little Mistress Merciless ever
fain to hear tell. But when she beset the rest of us to speak thereof
we knew not what to say other than to confirm such reports as Master
Sweetheart had already made. For when it cometh to knowing of that
far-off land,--ah me, who knoweth more than the veriest little child?
And oftentimes within the bosom of a little, helpless, fading one there
bloometh a wisdom which sages cannot comprehend. So when she asked us
we were wont to bid her go to Master Sweetheart, for he knew the truth
and spake it.
It is now to tell of an adventure which on a time befell in that full
fair garden of which you have heard me speak. In this garden lived
many birds of surpassing beauty and most rapturous song, and among them
was one that they called Joyous, for that he did ever carol forth so
joyously, it mattered not what the day soever might be. This bird
Joyous had his home in the top of an exceeding high tree, hard by the
pleasant arbor, and here did he use to sit at such times as the little
people came into that arbor, and then would he sing to them such songs
as befitted that quiet spot, and them that came thereto. But there was
a full evil cat that dwelt near by, and this cruel beast found no
pleasure in the music that Joyous did make continually; nay, that music
filled this full evil cat with a wicked thirst for the blood of that
singing innocent, and she had no peace for the malice that was within
her seeking to devise a means whereby she might comprehend the bird
Joyous to her murderous intent. Now you must know that it was the wont
of our little Mistress Merciless and of Master Sweetheart to feed the
birds in that fair garden with such crumbs as they were suffered to
bring with them into the arbor, and at such times would those birds fly
down with grateful twitterings and eat of those crumbs upon the
greensward round about the arbor. Wit ye well, it was a merry sight to
see those twittering birds making feast upon the good things which
those children brought, and our little Mistress Merciless and little
Master Sweetheart had sweet satisfaction therein. But, on a day,
whilst thus those twittering birds made great feasting, lo! on a sudden
did that full evil cat whereof I have spoken steal softly from a
thicket, and with one hideous bound make her way into the very midst of
those birds and seize upon that bird Joyous, that was wont to sing so
merrily from the tree hard by the arbor. Oh, there was a mighty din
and a fearful fluttering, and the rest flew swiftly away, but Joyous
could not do so, because the full evil cat held him in her cruel fangs
and claws. And I make no doubt that Joyous would speedily have met his
death, but that with a wrathful cry did our little Mistress Merciless
hasten to his rescue. And our little Mistress belabored that full evil
cat with Master Sweetheart's crutch, until that cruel beast let loose
her hold upon the fluttering bird and was full glad to escape with her
aching bones into the thicket again. So it was that Joyous was
recovered from death; but even then might it have fared ill with him,
had they not taken him up and dressed his wounds and cared for him
until duly he was well again. And then they released him to do his
plaisance, and he returned to his home in the tree hard by the arbor
and there he sung unto those children more sweetly than ever before;
for his heart was full of gratitude to our little Mistress Merciless
and Master Sweetheart.
Now, of the dolls that she had in goodly number, that one which was
named Beautiful did our little Mistress Merciless love best. Know well
that the doll Beautiful had come not from oversea, and was neither of
wax nor of china; but she was right ingeniously constructed of a
bed-key that was made of wood, and unto the top of this bed-key had the
Queen of Sheba superadded a head with a fair face, and upon the body
and the arms of the key had she hung passing noble raiment. Unto this
doll Beautiful was our little Mistress Merciless vastly beholden, and
she did use to have the doll Beautiful lie by her side at night whilst
she slept, and whithersoever during the day she went, there also would
she take the doll Beautiful, too. Much sorrow and lamentation,
therefore, made our little Mistress Merciless when on an evil day the
doll Beautiful by chance fell into the fish-pond, and was not rescued
therefrom until one of her beauteous eyes had been devoured of the
envious water; so that ever thereafter the doll Beautiful had but one
eye, and that, forsooth, was grievously faded. And on another evil day
came a monster ribald dog pup and seized upon the doll Beautiful whilst
she reposed in the arbor, and bore her away, and romped boisterously
with her upon the sward, and tore off her black-thread hair, and sought
to destroy her wholly, which surely he would have done but for the
Queen of Sheba, who made haste to rescue the doll Beautiful, and
chastise that monster ribald dog pup.
Therefore, as you can understand, the time was right busily spent. The
full fair garden, with its flowers and the singing birds and the
gracious arbor and the Siege of Restfulness, found favor with those
children, and amid these joyous scenes did Master Sweetheart have to
tell each day of that far-off land of Ever-Plaisance, whither he said
he was going. And one day, when the sun shone very bright, and the
full fair garden joyed in the music of those birds, Master Sweetheart
did not come, and they missed the little lame boy and wondered where he
was. And as he never came again they thought at last that of a surety
he had departed into that country whereof he loved to tell. Which
thing filled our little Mistress Merciless with wonder and inquiry; and
I think she was lonely ever after that,--lonely for Master Sweetheart.
I am thinking now of her and of him; for this is the Christmas
season,--the time when it is most meet to think of the children and
other sweet and holy things. There is snow everywhere, snow and cold.
The garden is desolate and voiceless: the flowers are gone, the trees
are ghosts, the birds have departed. It is winter out there, and it is
winter, too, in this heart of mine. Yet in this Christmas season I
think of them, and it pleaseth me--God forbid that I offend with much
speaking--it pleaseth me to tell of the little things they did and
loved. And you shall understand it all if, perchance, this sacred
Christmas time a little Mistress Merciless of your own, or a little
Master Sweetheart, clingeth to your knee and sanctifieth your
hearthstone.
When of an evening all the joy of day was done, would our little
Mistress Merciless fall aweary; and then her eyelids would grow
exceeding heavy and her little tired hands were fain to fold. At such
a time it was my wont to beguile her weariness with little tales of
faery, or with the gentle play that sleepy children like. Much was her
fancy taken with what I told her of the train that every night whirleth
away to Shut-Eye Town, bearing unto that beauteous country sleepy
little girls and boys. Nor would she be content until I told her
thereof,--yes, every night whilst I robed her in her cap and gown would
she demand of me that tale of Shut-Eye Town, and the wonderful train
that was to bear her thither. Then would I say in this wise:--
At Bedtime-ville there is a train of cars that waiteth for you, my
sweet,--for you and for other little ones that would go to quiet,
slumbrous Shut-Eye Town.
But make no haste; there is room for all. Each hath a tiny car that is
snug and warm, and when the train starteth each car swingeth soothingly
this way and that way, this way and that way, through all the journey
of the night.
Your little gown is white and soft; your little cap will hold those
pretty curls so fast that they cannot get away. Here is a curl that
peepeth out to see what is going to happen. Hush, little curl! make no
noise; we will let you peep out at the wonderful sights, but you must
not tell the others about it; let them sleep, snuggled close together.
The locomotive is ready to start. Can you not hear it?
"Shug-chug! Shug-chug! Shug-chug!" That is what the locomotive is
saying, all to itself. It knoweth how pleasant a journey it is about
to make.
"Shug-chug! Shug-chug! Shug-chug!"
Oh, many a time hath it proudly swept over prairie and hill, over river
and plain, through sleeping gardens and drowsy cities, swiftly and
quietly, bearing the little ones to the far, pleasant valley where
lieth Shut-Eye Town.
"Shug-chug! Shug-chug! Shug-chug!"
So sayeth the locomotive to itself at the station in Bedtime-ville; for
it knoweth how fair and far a journey is before it.
Then a bell soundeth. Surely my little one heareth the bell!
"Ting-long! Ting-a-long! Ting-long!"
So soundeth the bell, and it seemeth to invite you to sleep and dreams.
"Ting-long! Ting-a-long! Ting-long!"
How sweetly ringeth and calleth that bell.
"To sleep--to dreams, O little lambs!" it seemeth to call. "Nestle
down close, fold your hands, and shut your dear eyes! We are off and
away to Shut-Eye Town! Ting-long! Ting-a-long! Ting-long! To
sleep--to dreams, O little cosset lambs!"
And now the conductor calleth out in turn. "All aboard!" he calleth,
"All aboard for Shut-Eye Town!" he calleth in a kindly tone.
But, hark ye, dear-my-soul, make thou no haste; there is room for all.
Here is a cosey little car for you. How like your cradle it is, for it
is snug and warm, and it rocketh this way and that way, this way and
that way, all night long, and its pillows caress you tenderly. So step
into the pretty nest, and in it speed to Shut-Eye Town.
"Toot! Toot!"
That is the whistle. It soundeth twice, but it must sound again before
the train can start. Now you have nestled down, and your dear hands
are folded; let your two eyes be folded, too, my sweet; for in a moment
you shall be rocked away, and away, away into the golden mists of Balow!
"Ting-long! Ting-a-long! Ting-long!"
"All aboard!"
"Toot! Toot! Toot!"
And so my little golden apple is off and away for Shut-Eye Town!
Slowly moveth the train, yet faster by degrees. Your hands are folded,
my beloved, and your dear eyes they are closed; and yet you see the
beauteous sights that skirt the journey through the mists of Balow.
And it is rockaway, rockaway, rockaway, that your speeding cradle
goes,--rockaway, rockaway, rockaway, through the golden glories that
lie in the path that leadeth to Shut-Eye Town.
"Toot! Toot!"
So crieth the whistle, and it is "down-brakes," for here we are at
Ginkville, and every little one knoweth that pleasant waking-place,
where mother with her gentle hands holdeth the gracious cup to her
sleepy darling's lips.
"Ting-long! Ting-a-long! Ting-long!" and off is the train again. And
swifter and swifter it speedeth,--oh, I am sure no other train speedeth
half so swiftly! The sights my dear one sees! I cannot tell of
them--one must see those beauteous sights to know how wonderful they
are!
"Shug-chug! Shug-chug! Shug-chug!"
On and on and on the locomotive proudly whirleth the train.
"Ting-long! Ting-a-long! Ting-long!"
The bell calleth anon, but fainter and evermore fainter; and fainter
and fainter groweth that other calling--"Toot! Toot! Toot!"--till
finally I know that in that Shut-Eye Town afar my dear one dreameth the
dreams of Balow.
This was the bedtime tale which I was wont to tell our little Mistress
Merciless, and at its end I looked upon her face to see it calm and
beautiful in sleep.
Then was I wont to kneel beside her little bed and fold my two
hands,--thus,--and let my heart call to the host invisible: "O guardian
angels of this little child, hold her in thy keeping from all the
perils of darkness and the night! O sovereign Shepherd, cherish Thy
little lamb and mine, and, Holy Mother, fold her to thy bosom and thy
love! But give her back to me,--when morning cometh, restore ye unto
me my little one!"
But once she came not back. She had spoken much of Master Sweetheart
and of that land of Ever-Plaisance whither he had gone. And she was
not afeared to make the journey alone; so once upon a time when our
little Mistress Merciless bade us good-by, and went away forever, we
knew that it were better so; for she was lonely here, and without her
that far-distant country whither she journeyed were not content.
Though our hearts were like to break for love of her, we knew that it
were better so.
The tale is told, for it were not seemly to speak all the things that
are in one's heart when one hath to say of a much-beloved child whose
life here hath been shortened so that, in God's wisdom and kindness,
her life shall be longer in that garden that bloometh far away.
About me are scattered the toys she loved, and the doll Beautiful hath
come down all battered and grim,--yet, oh! so very precious to me, from
those distant years; yonder fareth the Queen of Sheba in her service as
handmaiden unto me and mine,--gaunt and doleful-eyed, yet stanch and
sturdy as of old. The garden lieth under the Christmas snow,--the
garden where ghosts of trees wave their arms and moan over the graves
of flowers; the once gracious arbor is crippled now with the
infirmities of age, the Siege of Restfulness fast sinketh into decay,
and long, oh! long ago did that bird Joyous carol forth his last sweet
song in the garden that was once so passing fair.
And amid it all,--this heartache and the loneliness which the years
have brought,--cometh my Christmas gift to-day: the solace of a vision
of that country whither she--our little Mistress Merciless--hath gone;
a glimpse of that far-off land of Ever-Plaisance.