road, for it is through the air and no water sprite could live to reach
it. Dear Ripple, do not go, for if any harm comes to you I shall lose my
sweetest subject," said the Queen,--and all the others begged her to
stay safely at home.
But Ripple would not break her promise, and they had to let her go. So
the sprites built a tomb of delicate, bright shells, where the child
might lie till she came to make him live again; and with a brave good-by
Ripple floated away on her long journey to the sky.
"I will go round the world till I find a road to the sun. Some kind
friend will help me, for I have no wings and cannot float through the
blue air as through the sea," she said, as she came to the other side of
the ocean and saw a lovely land before her. Grass was green on all the
hills, flowers were budding, young leaves danced upon the trees, and
birds were singing everywhere.
"Why are you all so gay?" asked Ripple, wondering.
"Spring is coming! Spring is coming! and all the earth is glad," sang
the lark, as the music poured from its little throat.
"Shall I see her?" asked Ripple, eagerly.
"You will meet her soon. The sunshine told us she was near, and we are
hurrying to be up and dressed to welcome her back," answered a blue-eyed
violet, dancing on her stem for joy.
"I will ask her how to reach the fire spirits. She travels over the
earth every year, and perhaps can show me the way," said Ripple, as she
went on.
Soon a beautiful child came dancing over the hills, rosy as dawn, with
hair like sunshine, a voice like the balmy wind, and her robe full of
seeds, little leaves, dewdrops, and budding flowers, which she scattered
far and wide, till the earth smiled back at the smiling sky.
"Dear Spring, will you help a poor little sprite, who is looking for the
fire spirits' home?" cried Ripple,--and told her tale so eagerly that
the child stopped to hear.
"Alas, I cannot tell you," answered Spring, "but my elder sister Summer
is coming behind me, and she may know. I long to help, so I will give
you this breeze, that will carry you over land and sea and never tire. I
wish I could do more, but the world is calling me, and I must go."
"Many thanks, kind Spring," cried Ripple, as she floated away on the
breeze. "Say a kind word to the poor mother waiting on the shore, and
tell her I do not forget."
Then the lovely season flew on with her sunshine and song, and Ripple
went swiftly over hill and dale till she came to the place where Summer
lived. Here the sun shone warmly on early fruit and ripening grain; the
wind blew freshly over sweet hay-fields and rustled the thick branches
of the trees. Heavy dews and soft showers refreshed the growing things,
and long bright days brought beauty to the world.
"Now I must look for Summer," said Ripple, as she sailed along.
"I am here," said a voice, and she saw a beautiful woman floating by, in
green robes, with a golden crown on her hair, and her arms full of
splendid flowers.
Ripple told her story again, but Summer said with a sigh of pity,--
"I cannot show you the way, but my brother Autumn may know. I, too, will
give you a gift to help you along, good little creature. This sunbeam
will be a lamp to light your way, for you may have a gloomy journey
yet."
Then Summer went on, leaving all green and golden behind her, and Ripple
flew away to look for Autumn. Soon the fields were yellow with corn and
grain; purple grapes hung on the vines; nuts rattled down among the dead
leaves, and frost made the trees gay with lovely colors. A handsome
hunter, in a russet suit, came striding over the hills, with his hounds
about him, while he made music on his silver horn, and all the echoes
answered him.
This was Autumn, but he was no wiser than his sisters, and seeing the
little sprite's disappointment he kindly said,--
"Ask Winter; he knows the fire spirits well, for when he comes they fly
down to kindle fires on the hearths where people gather to keep warm.
Take this red leaf, and when you meet his chilly winds wrap it round
you, else you will be frozen to death. A safe journey and a happy end;"
and with a shrill blast on his horn Autumn hurried away, with his
hounds leaping after him.
"Shall I ever get there?" sighed poor Ripple, as the never-tiring breeze
flew on, till the sky grew dark and cold winds began to blow. Then she
folded the warm red leaf about her like a cloak, and looked sadly down
at the dead flowers and frozen fields, not knowing that Winter spread a
soft blanket of snow over them, so they could lie safely asleep till
Spring woke them again.
Presently, riding on the north wind, Winter came rushing by, with a
sparkling crown of ice on his white hair, and a cloak of frost-work,
from which he scattered snow-flakes far and wide.
"What do you want with me, pretty thing? Do not be afraid; I am warm at
heart, though rude and cold outside," said Winter, with a smile that
made his pleasant face glow in the frosty air.
When Ripple told what she was looking for, he nodded and pointed to the
gloomy sky.
"Far away up there is the palace, and the only road is through cloud and
mist and strange places full of danger. It is too hard a task for you,
and the fire spirits are wild, hot-tempered things who may kill you.
Come back with me, and do not try."
"I cannot go back, now that I have found the way. Surely the spirits
will not hurt me when I tell why I have come; and if they do give me the
spark I shall be the happiest sprite in all the big sea. Tell the poor
mother I will keep my word; and be kind to her, she is so sad."
"You brave little creature! I think you will succeed. Take this
snowflake, that will never melt, and good luck to you," cried Winter, as
the north wind carried him away, leaving the air full of snow.
"Now, dear Breeze, fly straight up till we reach our journey's end.
Sunbeam shall light the way; Redleaf shall keep me warm, and Snowflake
lie here beside me till I need it. Good-by to land and sea; now away, up
to the sun!"
When Ripple first began her airy journey, heavy clouds lay piled like
hills about her, and a cold mist filled the air. Higher and higher they
went, and darker grew the air, while a stormy wind tossed the little
traveller to and fro as if on the angry sea.
"Shall I ever see the beautiful world again?" sighed Ripple. "It is
indeed a dreadful road, and but for the seasons' gifts I should have
died. Fly fast, dear wind, and bring me to the sunshine again."
Soon the clouds were left behind, the mist rolled away, and she came up
among the stars. With wondering eyes she looked at the bright worlds
that once seemed dim and distant when she saw them from the sea. Now
they moved around her, some shining with a soft light, some with
many-colored rings, some pale and cold, while others burned with a red
glare.
Ripple would gladly have stayed to watch them, for she fancied voices
called; faces smiled at her, and each star made music as it shone in the
wide sky. But higher up, still nearer to the sun, she saw a far-off
light that glittered like a crimson flame, and made a fiery glow. "The
spirits must be there," she said, and hurried on, eager to reach her
journey's end.
Up she flew till straight before her lay a broad path that led to a
golden arch, behind which she could see lovely creatures moving to and
fro. As she drew nearer, the air grew so hot that the red leaf
shrivelled up, and Ripple would have died if she had not quickly
unfolded the snowflake and wrapped herself in that cool cloak. Then she
could safely pass under the tall arch into a strange place, where the
walls were of orange, blue, and purple flames, that made beautiful
figures as they flickered to and fro. Here the fire spirits lived, and
Ripple saw with wonder their crowns of flame, their flashing eyes, the
sparks that popped from their lips as they spoke, and how in each one's
bosom burned a little flame that never wavered or went out.
She had time to see no more, for the wild things came dancing round her;
and their hot breath would have burned her if she had not pulled the
snow-cloak over her head and begged them not to touch her, but to take
her to the Queen.
Through halls of many-colored fire they led her to a spirit more
brilliant than the rest; for a crown of yellow flames waved on her head,
and under the transparent violet of her robe the light in her breast
shone like a star.
Then Ripple told how she had been round the world to find them, and,
thanks to the seasons, had come at last to ask the magic spark that
would make the little child live again.
"We cannot give it," said the Queen; "for each of us must take something
from our bosom-fires to make up this flame, and this we do not like to
do; because the brighter these souls of ours burn, the lovelier we are."
"Dear, warm-hearted spirits, do not send me away without it after this
long, hard journey," cried Ripple, clasping her hands. "I am sure if you
do this kind thing your souls will shine the brighter; for every good
act makes us beautiful. Give me the spark and I will do anything I can
for you."
As she spoke, the cloak fell back a little, and the Queen saw the chain
of jewels Ripple wore.
"If you will give me those lovely blue stones that shine like water I
will give a little of my bosom-fire for the child; because you are a
brave sprite, and it is hard to be cruel to you."
Gladly Ripple gave her the necklace; but, alas! as soon as the Queen's
hand touched it the jewels melted like snow, and fell in bright drops
to the ground. Then the Queen's eyes flashed, and the spirits gathered
angrily about Ripple, while sparks showered from their lips as they
spoke angrily to her.
"I have many finer ones at home, and if you will give me the flame I
will bring all I can gather in the sea, and each shall have a necklace
to remember the kind deed you have done," she said gently, as they
hovered about her, looking ready to burn her up in their wrath.
"We will do it," said the Queen; "but if the jewels you bring melt like
these, we shall keep you a prisoner here. Promise to come back, or we
shall send lightning to find and kill you, even at the bottom of the
sea."
Ripple promised, and each spirit gave a spark, till the golden flame was
made, and put into a crystal vase, where it shone like a splendid star.
"Remember! remember!" cried the fierce imps as they led her to the arch
and left her to travel back through mist and cloud till far below she
saw the beautiful blue sea.
Gladly she plunged into the cool waves and sunk to her home, where her
friends hastened joyfully to welcome her.
"Now come," they said, "dear, brave Ripple, and finish the good work you
have begun." They gathered round the tomb, where like a marble image lay
the little child. Ripple placed the flame on his breast and watched it
sparkle there while the color came slowly back to the pale face, light
to the dim eyes, and breath through the cold lips, till the child woke
from his long sleep and looked up smiling as he called his mother.
Then the spirits sang for joy, and dressed him in pretty clothes of
woven sea-weed, put chains of shells on his neck and a wreath of
water-flowers on his head.
"Now you shall see your mother who has waited so long, dear child," said
Ripple, taking him in her arms and feeling that all her weariness was
not in vain.
On the shore the poor woman still sat, watching and waiting patiently,
as she had done all that weary year. Suddenly a great wave came rolling
in, and on it, lifted high by arms as white as foam, sat the child
waving his hands as he cried to her, "I am coming, mother, and I have
such lovely things to show you from the bottom of the sea!"
Then the wave broke gently on the shore and left the child safe in his
happy mother's arms.
"O faithful Ripple, what can I do to thank you? I wish I had some
splendid thing, but I have only this little chain of pearls. They are
the tears I shed, and the sea changed them so that I might offer them to
you," said the woman, when she could speak for joy.
Ripple took the pretty chain and floated away, ready for her new task,
while the child danced gayly on the sand, and the mother smiled like
sunshine on the happy sprite who had done so much for her.
Far and wide in all the caves of the sea did Ripple look for jewels, and
when she had long necklaces of all the brightest, she flew away again on
the tireless breeze to the fire palace in the sky.
The spirits welcomed her warmly as she poured out her treasures at the
feet of the Queen. But when the hot hands touched the jewels, they
melted and fell like drops of colored dew. Ripple was filled with fear,
for she could not live in that fiery place, and begged for some other
task to save her life.
"No, no," cried the spirits fiercely. "You have not kept your promise
and you must stay. Fling off this cold cloak and swim in the
fire-fountains till you get a soul like ours, and can help us brighten
our bosom sparks again."
Ripple sank down in despair and felt that she must die; but even then
was glad to give her life for the little child's. The spirits gathered
about her, but as they began to pull the cloak away, underneath they saw
the chain of pearls shining with a soft light, that only brightened as
they put their hands upon it.
"Oh, give us this!" they cried; "it is finer than the others, and does
not melt. Give us this and you may go free."
Ripple gladly gave it, and, safe under the cloak, told them how the
pearls they so proudly divided to wear were tears which, but for them,
would still be flowing. This pleased the spirits, for they had warm
hearts as well as hot tempers, and they said, smiling,--"Since we may
not kiss you, and you cannot live with us, we will show our love for you
by giving you a pleasant journey home. Come out and see the bright path
we have made."
They led her to the gate and there she saw a splendid rainbow arching
from the sky to the sea, its lovely colors shining in the sun.
Then with thanks and good-by, happy little Ripple flew back along that
lovely road, and every wave in the great ocean danced for joy to welcome
her home.
[Illustration]
IV.
EVA'S VISIT TO FAIRYLAND.
[Illustration: Eva watched their pretty play.--PAGE 69.]
A little girl lay on the grass down by the brook wondering what the
brown water said as it went babbling over the stones. As she listened
she heard another kind of music that seemed to come nearer and nearer,
till round the corner floated a beautiful boat filled with elves, who
danced on the broad green leaves of the lily of the valley, while the
white bells of the tall stem that was the mast rung loud and sweet.
A flat rock, covered with moss, stood in the middle of the brook, and
here the boat was anchored for the elves to rest a little. Eva watched
them at their pretty play, as they flew about or lay fanning themselves
and drinking from the red-brimmed cups on the rocks. Wild strawberries
grew in the grass close by, and Eva threw some of the ripest to the
fairy folk; for honey and dew seemed a poor sort of lunch to the child.
Then the elves saw her, and nodded and smiled and called, but their soft
voices could not reach her. So, after whispering among themselves, two
of them flew to the brookside, and perching on a buttercup said close to
Eva's ear,--
"We have come to thank you for your berries, and to ask if we can do
anything for you, because this is our holiday and we can become visible
to you."
"Oh, let me go to fairyland! I have longed so to see and know all about
you dear little people; and never would believe it is true that there
are no fairies left," cried Eva, so glad to find that she was right.
"We should not dare to take some children, they would do so much harm;
but you believe in us, you love all the sweet things in the world, and
never hurt innocent creatures, or tread on flowers, or let ugly passions
come into your happy little heart. You shall go with us and see how we
live."
But as the elves spoke, Eva looked very sad and said,--
"How can I go? I am so big I should sink that pretty ship with one
finger, and I have no wings."
The elves laughed and touched her with their soft hands, saying,--
"You cannot hurt us now. Look in the water and see what we have done."
Eva looked and saw a tiny child standing under a tall blue violet. It
was herself, but so small she seemed an elf in a white pinafore and
little pink sun-bonnet. She clapped her hands and skipped for joy, and
laughed at the cunning picture; but suddenly she grew sober again, as
she looked from the shore to the rock.
"But now I am so wee I cannot step over, and you cannot lift me, I am
sure."
"Give us each a hand and do not be afraid," said the elves, and whisked
her across like dandelion down.
The elves were very glad to see her, and touched and peeped and asked
questions as if they had never had a mortal child to play with before.
Eva was so small she could dance with them now, and eat what they ate,
and sing their pretty songs. She found that flower-honey and dewdrops
were very nice, and that it was fine fun to tilt on a blade of grass, to
slide down a smooth bulrush-stem, or rock in the cup of a flower. She
learned new and merry games, found out what the brook said, saw a
cowslip blossom, and had a lovely time till the captain of the ship blew
a long sweet blast on a honeysuckle horn, and all the elves went aboard
and set sail for home.
"Now I shall find the way to Fairyland and can go again whenever I
like," thought Eva, as she floated away.
But the sly little people did not mean that she should know, for only
now and then can a child go to that lovely place. So they set the bells
to chiming softly, and all sung lullabies till Eva fell fast asleep, and
knew nothing of the journey till she woke in Fairyland.
It seemed to be sunset; for the sky was red, the flowers all dreaming
behind their green curtains, the birds tucked up in their nests, and
there was no sound but the whisper of the wind that softly sang,
"Good-night, good-night."
"We all go early to bed unless the moon shines. We are tired, so come
and let us make you cosey till to-morrow," said the elves, showing her a
dainty bed with white rose-leaves for sheets, a red rose-leaf for
coverlet, and two plump little mushrooms for pillows. Cobweb curtains
hung over it, a glow-worm was the candle, and a lily-of-the-valley cup
made a nice night-cap, while a tiny gown of woven thistle-down lay ready
to be put on.
Eva quickly undressed and slipped into the pretty bed, where she lay
looking at the red light till sleep kissed her eyelids, and a lovely
dream floated through her mind till morning came.
As soon as the sun peeped over the hills the elves were up and away to
the lake, where they all dipped and splashed and floated and frolicked
till the air was full of sparkling drops and the water white with foam.
Then they wiped on soft cobweb towels, which they spread on the grass to
dry, while they combed their pretty hair and put on fresh gowns of
flower-leaves. After that came breakfast, all sitting about in parties
to eat fruit and cakes of pollen, while their drink was fresh dew.
"Now, Eva, you see that we are not idle, foolish creatures, but have
many things to do, many lessons to learn, and a heaven of our own to
hope for," said the elves when they had all sung together; while the
wind, who was the house-maid there, cleared the tables by blowing
everything away at one breath. "First of all come to our hospital,--for
here we bring all the sick and hurt things cruel or careless people have
harmed. In your world children often torment and kill poor birds and
worms and flies, and pick flowers to throw away, and chase butterflies
till their poor wings are broken. All these we care for, and our magic
makes them live again. Come and see."
Eva followed to a cool, quiet place, where on soft beds lay many wounded
things. Rose, the fairy nurse, was binding up the leg of a fly as he lay
in a cobweb hammock and feebly buzzed his thanks. In another place an
ugly worm was being put together after a cruel boy had cut him in two.
Eva thought the elves were good to do such work, and went on to a
humming-bird which lay in a bed of honeysuckles, with the quick colors
very dim on its little breast and bright wings very still.
"I was shot with an air-gun, and my poor head still aches with the
dreadful blow," sighed the poor bird, trying to sip a little honey with
his long beak.
"I'm nearly well," chirped a cricket, whose stiff tail had been pulled
off by a naughty child and nicely put on again by a very skilful elf.
He looked so cheerful and lively as he hopped about on his bed of dried
grass, with his black eyes twinkling, and a bandage of bindweed holding
his tail firmly in place till it was well, that Eva laughed aloud, and
at the pleasant sound all the sick things smiled and seemed better.
Rows of pale flowers stood in one place, and elves watered them, or tied
up broken leaves, or let in the sunshine to cure their pains,--for these
delicate invalids needed much care; and Mignonette was the name of the
nurse who watched over them, like a little Sister of Charity, with her
gray gown and sweet face.
"You have seen enough. Come to school now, and see where we are taught
all that fairies must know," said Trip, the elf who was guiding her
about.
In a pleasant place they found the child elves sitting on pink daisies
with their books of leaves in their hands, while the teacher was a
Jack-in-the-pulpit, who asked questions, and was very wise. Eva nodded
to the little ones, and they smiled at the stranger as they rustled
their books and pretended to study busily.
A class in arithmetic was going on, and Eva listened to questions that
none but elves would care to know.
"Twinkle, if there were fifteen seeds on a dandelion, and the wind blew
ten away, how many would be left?"
"Five."
"Bud, if a rose opens three leaves one day, two the next, and seven the
next, how many in all?"
"Eleven."
"Daisy, if a silk-worm spins one yard of fairy cloth in an hour, how
many can he spin in a day?"
"Twelve, if he isn't lazy," answered the little elf, fluttering her
wings, as if anxious to be done.
"Now we will read," said Jack, and a new class flew to the long leaf,
where they stood in a row, with open books, ready to begin.
"You may read 'The Flower's Lesson' to-day, and be careful not to
sing-song, Poppy," said the teacher, passing a dainty book to Eva that
she might follow the story.
"Once there was a rose who had two little buds. One was
happy and contented, but the other always wanted something.
"'I wish the elves would bring me a star instead of dew
every night. The drop is soon gone, but a star would shine
splendidly, and I should be finer than all the other
flowers,' said the naughty bud one night.
"'But you need the dew to live, and the moon needs the stars
up there to light the world. Don't fret, sister, but be sure
it is best to take what is sent, and be glad,' answered the
good bud.
"'I won't have the dew, and if I cannot get a star I will
take a firefly to shine on my breast,' said the other,
shaking off a fresh drop that had just fallen on her, and
folding her leaves round the bright fly.
"'Foolish child!' cried the rose-mother; 'let the fly go,
before he harms you. It is better to be sweet and fair than
to shine with a beauty not your own. Be wise, dear, before
it is too late.'
"But the silly bud only held the firefly closer, till in its
struggles it tore her leaves and flew away. When the hot sun
came up the poor bud hung all faded on her stem, longing for
a cool drop to drink. Her sister was strong and fresh, and
danced gayly in the wind, opening her red petals to the
sun.
"'Now I must die. Oh, why was I vain and silly?' sobbed the
poor bud, fainting in the heat.
"Then the mother leaned over her, and from her bosom, where
she had hidden it, the dew-drop fell on the thirsty bud, and
while she drank it eagerly the rose drew her closer,
whispering, 'Little darling, learn to be contented with what
heaven sends, and make yourself lovely by being good.'"
"I shall remember that story," said Eva when the elves shut their books
and flew back to the daisy seats.
"Would you like to hear them sing?" asked Trip.
"Very much," said Eva, and in the little song they gave her she got
another lesson to carry home.
"I shine," says the sun,
"To give the world light,"
"I glimmer," adds the moon,
"To beautify the night."
"I ripple," says the brook,
"I whisper," sighs the breeze,
"I patter," laughs the rain,
"We rustle," call the trees
"We dance," nod the daisies,
"I twinkle," shines the star,
"We sing," chant the birds,
"How happy we all are!"
"I smile," cries the child,
Gentle, good, and gay;
The sweetest thing of all,
The sunshine of each day.