best way. It happened that on the very day the little girl ran away to
visit her nurse, the nurse had concluded to visit the little girl. So
she put on her best things and went to the little girl's home. When
the woman came to the garden she saw the gate open, and presently her
husband, the gardener, came out trundling a load of weeds and trash in
his wheelbarrow. She asked about the little girl.
"'She was playing under the trees yonder awhile ago,' said the man. 'I
haven't seen her since.'
"The woman went into the garden and searched among the trees and
arbors, but no little girl could she find.
"'Having come so far,' she said to herself, 'I'll not go back without
seeing the precious little creature.' So she went towards the house,
searching for the child. She inquired of every servant she met where
the little girl was, and finally went into the house searching for
her. At last she came to the room where sat her former mistress. But
the child was not there.
"In a very short while there was a tremendous uproar in the place. The
maid servants and the men servants went running about through the
house, through the yard, and through the garden, calling the little
girl. They hunted in every hole and corner, and in every nook and
cranny, but the child was not to be found.
"The kind-hearted nurse wept almost as bitterly as the mother. 'Oh, if
I had been here,' she cried, 'this would never have happened.'
"The little girl's father came in just in time to hear this, and he
immediately suspected that the nurse had stolen his daughter and would
pretend to find her again in the hope of securing a reward. He said
nothing of his suspicions, but he determined to have the nurse
closely watched.
"He was so firmly convinced that his suspicion was correct that he
treated his daughter's disappearance somewhat lightly, and this helped
to console the mother. When it became certain that the little girl was
not to be found in the house or on the place, her father called one of
his trusty clerks (for he was a rich and powerful merchant), and told
him to disguise himself as a peddler, go to the nurse's house, and
there discover, if possible, where the nurse had bestowed the child.
"The clerk did as he was directed, but when he arrived at the nurse's
house, disguised as a peddler, he was surprised to find as much grief
under that humble roof as there was at his master's house. He knocked
at the door and inquired the cause of the trouble, hoping to discover
that the display of grief was a mere sham. But he soon saw it was
genuine. Both the woman and her handsome son were weeping bitterly
over the disappearance of the little girl.
"'May I get a bite to eat?' asked the peddler.
"'That you may!' exclaimed the woman, 'for we shall need nothing
ourselves, until we hear some news of that precious child.' Then she
told the peddler about the strange disappearance of the little girl
she used to nurse, and the peddler, in order to carry out his purpose,
asked a great many questions. When he was told that the parents of the
little girl were very rich he laughed, and said that if they had
plenty of money they could get along very well without a little girl,
but this made the woman and her son so angry that they were on the
point of showing the peddler the door. They were ready to dismiss him
with many hard words, when they heard some one calling.
"The son went into the yard, and found that an old man had fallen not
far from their gate and was unable to rise. The woman went to help her
son bring the old man in, and while they were gone the peddler took
his leave without so much as saying good-by.
"With a good deal of trouble the old man was brought into the house,
and made comfortable, but no sooner had he been placed upon the
woman's bed than he leaped to his feet and stood on the floor,
laughing.
"'I have fallen at a dozen doors to-day,' he cried, 'and this is the
first that has been opened to me.'
"'Well,' replied the woman, 'if we had known you were playing pranks
on us I don't think this door would have opened to you. We are having
too much trouble ourselves to pester with other people's troubles.'
"Then she went on to tell of the disappearance of the little girl she
used to nurse. The old man tried to get in a word of consolation, now
and then, but the woman talked too fast for that. But presently she
had told about all she had to tell.
"'See how it turns out!' cried the old man. 'How can it be accident
that brings to your door the only person in the world that can give
you any tidings of the little girl? I saw a child to-day some miles
from here who asked me to show her her nurse's house.'
"'Bless her dear little heart!' exclaimed the woman.
"'But she was in great danger,' said the old man. 'She was just about
to enter the domain of Rimrak.'
"'Ah, why didn't you bring her away with you?' cried the woman.
"'It is not permitted,' replied the old man. 'I did what I could. I
warned her not to drink of the waters of the spring nor to eat of the
pomegranate-seed. I could do no more.'
"'Oh, what will become of the dear child?' exclaimed the woman,
wringing her hands.
"'If she drinks of the waters of the spring,' responded the old man,
'or eats of the pomegranate-seed, she will fall into a deep sleep.
Then will come Rimrak, the Conjurer, and convey her to his cave, and
there she will be held captive until she forgets she is a captive, or
until she has been rescued by some bold youth who loves her well
enough to remember the color of her eyes.'
"'I remember! I remember!' cried the woman's handsome son.
"'Be not too sure,' replied the old man. 'Sit down and think it over.'
"'No need for that,' said the boy. 'Her eyes once seen can never be
forgotten.'
"'Oho!' exclaimed the old man. 'Then perhaps you can tell me the color
of the little girl's eyes?'
"'Certainly,' said the boy. 'They are brown when she lifts them to
your face and dark when she looks away from you.'
"The old man nodded his head with a greater display of good humor than
he had yet shown.
"'Ah, you think so,' said the old man, warningly; 'you think you know,
but be not too sure.'
"'Why, I can see her now!' exclaimed the boy.
"'Where?' cried his mother; 'oh, where?'
"The boy fell back in his seat and covered his face with his hands.
"'He was speaking of his memory,' said the old man. 'If he can trust
it, well and good.'
"'You should have brought the child home with you,' said the
matter-of-fact woman.
"'It was not in my power,' replied the old man. 'She had gone too far.
She had already entered the domain of Rimrak, the Conjurer. All that I
could do I did. I warned her not to drink of the waters of the spring.
I warned her not to eat of the seed of the pomegranate. But now that I
am here, let us see what can be done.'
"He went to his wallet, which he had placed on the table, opened it
and took from it three knives. One was a clasp-knife with a long, slim
blade, the next was a common case-knife, and the third was a big
butcher's-knife. The case-knife had once had a horn or wooden handle,
but this had dropped off, and the iron that held the knife in place
had been run into a corncob. The old man took these knives from his
wallet, one by one, and placed them on the table.
"'Now listen to me,' he said to the boy. 'All will go well with you if
you are bold, and if you really remember the color of the little
girl's eyes. Here are your arms. This,' taking up the clasp-knife, 'is
Keen-Point. This,' taking up the case-knife, 'is Cob-Handle. And this
is Butch. Remember their names,--Keen-Point, Cob-Handle, and Butch.
Keen-Point is to show you the way, Cob-Handle is to warn you of
danger, and Butch is to protect you. But they will all fail you--they
will all go wrong--if you do not remember the color of the little
girl's eyes.'
"The boy took Keen-Point, Cob-Handle, and Butch, and stowed them away
in a wallet, in which his mother placed a supply of food. Then he set
out on his journey, with a light heart. He was not afraid, for he knew
that he loved the little girl well enough to remember the color of her
eyes. He went on his way till he came to the open fields where no one
lived. He had been there many a time before, but now it seemed to him
that he had never seen so many paths and by-ways. They led in all
directions and crossed each other almost at every turn.
"He stopped and looked all around, and then he took Keen-Point from
his wallet, and said:--
"'Keen-Point can, Keen-Point may,
Point keen and true, and show me the way.'
"As soon as he said this, the knife tumbled from his hand and fell to
the ground, the end of the keen blade pointing towards one of the many
footpaths. The boy picked it up, and it tumbled from his hand again,
pointing in the same direction. He picked it up the second time, and
again the knife fell from his hand and pointed to the footpath. For
the third time he lifted the knife from the ground, and as it fell no
more, he placed it in his wallet, and went on his way.
"Thus he continued for many hours. When he was in doubt about the
way, Keen-Point would show him. When he grew hungry, he ate the food
his mother had placed in his wallet. It was late in the day when he
started, and before he came to the spring and the pomegranate-tree,
the sun went down and night came on. The boy stopped under a
wide-spreading tree, said his prayers, placed his wallet under his
head for a pillow, and went to sleep.
"Bright and early the next morning he was up and going. Whenever he
had any doubt about the way, Keen-Point would show him, and before the
sun was up very high, he came in sight of the pomegranate-tree, with
its red and golden fruit, and he knew the spring was close by.
"As he went on he grew thirstier, and thirstier, and when he came to
where the cool, clear waters of the spring were bubbling from the
ground with a sort of gurgling sound, his throat and mouth seemed to
be as dry as paper. More than that, when he came to the spring, a
traveler was sitting on one of the stones that lay around, drinking
the water from a silver cup and peeling the rind from a pomegranate
with a silver knife. The traveler had a very pleasant face and
manner, and he spoke to the boy in the kindest way.
"'If you want some water,' he said, 'you may drink from my silver cup.
If you are hungry, you may peel a pomegranate with my silver knife.'
"The boy thanked the traveler and said that he would eat and drink
later in the day. He thought to himself that a man who could drink
from a silver cup and eat with a silver knife ought to be able to
travel in a carriage or on horseback, but there was no horse nor
carriage in sight.
"'Well,' said the traveler, 'if you will neither eat nor drink, you
can at least rest yourself.'
"So the boy seated himself on one of the big rocks close by the
spring, and the traveler began to ask him all sorts of questions. What
was his name, and where did he come from, and where was he going."
"What _was_ his name?" asked Sweetest Susan suddenly.
"Well, I declare!" exclaimed Mrs. Meadows, "haven't I told you his
name?"
"If you did, we didn't hear you," said Buster John.
Mrs. Meadows raised her hands above her head and let them fall
helplessly in her lap. "I told you I didn't know how to tell stories!"
she cried. "You had fair warning. Well, well, well! And I never even
told you his name!" She paused and stared at the children as if she
wanted them to pity her weakness. "To think that I should forget to
call his name! Everybody knew it in my day and time, and they knew
about his wonderful adventures.
"His name was Valentine, because he was born on St. Valentine's Day,
and the little girl's name was Geraldine.
"Well, the traveler asked Valentine all sorts of questions, and tried
hard to persuade him to drink some of the water and eat the
pomegranate-seed.
"'I have heard,' said the traveler, 'that all this country around here
is ruled by a cruel Conjurer, and that he has power over all except
those who may chance to find this spring and this pomegranate-tree in
passing, and drink of the water and eat of the fruit.'
"But Valentine shook his head. He said he would rather have milk than
water any day, and as for pomegranates, he had no taste for them.
"'Then I would advise you to go no farther,' said the traveler. 'If
you fall into the hands of the Conjurer, you will never escape.'
"'I have heard of this great Conjurer,' replied Valentine, 'and I
should like nothing better than to see him.'
"He took Keen-Point from his wallet and pretended to be playing with
it, letting it fall and picking it up. The knife pointed beyond the
spring and the pomegranate-tree, and in a little while Valentine went
on his journey. On the hill beyond the spring, he turned and looked
back, but the traveler had disappeared. As there was no place where he
could hide, Valentine concluded that the man he had seen was no
traveler at all, but Rimrak, the Conjurer.
"But he was not afraid. He went on his way, and, after a little, came
to a grove of the tallest and biggest trees he had ever seen. As he
was passing through this grove, he suddenly saw two tremendous spiders
running about among the trees before and behind him. Their bodies were
as big as a feather bed when it is rolled up, and they were pretty
much the same color. Valentine watched their antics a few minutes, and
soon saw they were spinning a web among the trees and that he was in
the middle of it.
"The big spiders ran about on the ground spinning their webs around
him, and then they began to jump from tree to tree. Valentine began to
have a creepy feeling up and down his back, for he didn't relish the
idea of being caught in a spider's web like a bluebottle fly. He
wondered why Cob-Handle hadn't warned him of the danger, and then he
remembered that the case-knife was wrapped so tightly in his wallet
that it couldn't give a warning if it was to try. So he took all the
knives from the wallet,--Keen-Point, Cob-Handle, and Butch,--and
placed them in his girdle.
"Valentine hardly had time to fasten the straps about the wallet,
before he felt Cob-Handle jumping about and thumping against his side.
Then he saw one of the big spiders coming towards him. Big as it was
it moved nimbly, and before Valentine had time to get out of the way,
it ran around him and wrapped a strand of its web about his legs. The
strand was as big as a stout twine and as strong and as hard as wire.
Then the big spider turned and came back, but by this time Valentine
had drawn Butch from his belt, and as the ugly creature came near he
struck at it with the knife, and cut off one of its hairy legs. The
creature was so full of life and venom that its leg jumped around and
clawed the ground for some little time.
"Holding Butch point down and edge outwards, Valentine cut the strand
of web that held his legs. It was so large, and drawn so tightly about
him, that it sounded like somebody had broken a fiddle-string. In this
way he cut his way through the web. The crippled spider ran to his
mate, and the two stood watching Valentine, their eyes shining green
and venomous, and their jaws working as if they were chewing
something."
"They were sharpening their teeth," Buster John suggested.
"I reckon so," replied Mrs. Meadows. "Anyhow they were ugly enough to
scare anybody. Valentine cut his way through the web and marched out
on the other side. He rested a little and then went on his way; but he
had not gone far before Cob-Handle began to jump and thump against
his side. He stopped and looked around, but he could see nothing. He
listened, but he could hear nothing.
[Illustration: VALENTINE SLAYING THE SPIDER]
"Presently he felt the ground moving beneath his feet, and he ran
forward as fast as he could. And he didn't run too fast, either, for
no sooner had he jumped away than a great hole appeared right where he
had been standing. He could see that it was both wide and deep, but he
didn't go back to look at it.
"No; he kept on his way, and it wasn't long before Cob-Handle began to
jump and thump. Keen-Point also began to jump and thump, and showed
him which way to go, and he ran as fast as he could. He heard a
roaring sound as he started, and he had hardly got fifty steps away,
though he was running with all his might, before a tremendous
whirlwind came along, tearing up the bushes by roots and ploughing the
ground. It came so close to Valentine that if he had had on a
long-tail coat, I believe it would have been tangled in the whirlwind.
"I tell you," Mrs. Meadows went on, seeing the children smiling, "it
was no laughing matter to Valentine. He shivered and trembled when he
thought what a narrow escape he had had.
"He went on his way, and in a little while Cob-Handle began to jump
and thump again. Valentine, thus warned, stood still and looked around
more carefully than he had yet done. Some distance off, he saw a
horrible creature coming towards him. It was in the shape of a man,
but it had four arms and hands, and in each hand it was flourishing a
club. Its hair stood out from its head like the shucks in a
scouring-mop, and as it came nearer, Valentine saw that it had three
eyes,--one on each side of its nose, and one in its forehead.
"Keen-Point said, 'Go straight forward,' and then Butch began to jump
and thump, so Valentine placed Cob-Handle and Keen-Point in his
girdle, and took Butch in his hand. Holding the point straight before
him, he went towards the misshapen creature. Its red and watery eyes
were blinking and winking, and its arms were threshing the air with
the clubs at such a tremendous rate that Valentine thought his hour
had surely come. But he shut his eyes and went straight at the
creature. The sharp point of Butch had no sooner touched the monster
on its hairy breast than its hands dropped the clubs, and it ran
howling back the way it came.
"Valentine followed fast enough to see the creature enter a cave, and
to this, Keen-Point told him he must go. As he went forward, a
fierce-looking man came from the cave and stood guarding the entrance.
He was covered from head to foot with silver armor, and he brandished
a long keen sword with a silver handle. But Valentine went straight
forward, holding Butch in his hand. The long sword never touched him,
nor did the silver armor stand in his way. With one blow against Butch
the long sword was shattered, and the silver armor fell away from
Rimrak like the hulls from a ripe hickory-nut. Rimrak himself fell
before Butch and disappeared with a hissing sound; and then the cave
was no longer dark. Its roof seemed to roll away; and where the cave
had been, there stood a great company of people who had been held
captive by the Conjurer. They stood wondering what had happened and
what would happen next. Among them was Geraldine. She knew Valentine,
and ran to him, and then he was very happy. The people whom he had
rescued, gathered around him and thanked him and thanked him; and some
would have rewarded him, but he said he deserved none. He had come
after the little girl, and he was not responsible for any accidents
that happened to other people. This is what he said, and this is how
he felt; but the people wondered that a young boy should be so bold
and yet so modest.
"So they talked together, and decided to go with him to his home.
Their horses and their carriages they found in good order, and in a
little while they formed a procession. In this way they carried
Valentine to his home, crying out to the people they passed,--
"'This is our deliverer! This is the brave boy that conquered Rimrak,
the great Conjurer!'
"They carried Valentine to his home, and then they went with him to
Geraldine's home. There was great rejoicing in the town. The little
girl's father was rich, and he called all the people together; and
they had a big dinner, and everybody was happy. The little girl had
her old nurse back, and she grew up to be a beautiful young woman, and
Valentine grew up to be a handsome young man."
XIX.
A STORY OF THE RIVER.
"I think that was a beautiful story," said Sweetest Susan, when Mrs.
Meadows paused; "but was that the end?"
"Why, wasn't that enough?" inquired Mr. Rabbit sleepily. "What more
could you ask? Didn't the boy and girl get back home where they could
get something to eat?"
"What became of them?" asked Buster John. "The stories about boys and
girls in books say they married and lived happily ever after."
"Oh, yes!" cried Mr. Thimblefinger. "I've heard about it. I remember
the poetry,--
"'They married, then, and lived in clover,
And when they died, they died all over.'"
"Well," said Mrs. Meadows, "I thought surely you'd get tired of
Valentine and Geraldine by the time they got back home, and so I
thought we'd do well to leave them there. Still, if you are not
tired--" Mrs. Meadows paused and looked at the children.
"Oh, we are not tired," protested Buster John.
"Well," said Mrs. Meadows, "if that's the case, I'll tell you what
happened after Valentine and Geraldine went back home. Of course,
Geraldine's father and mother were very proud and happy when their
little girl was brought back to them. They were very grateful to
Valentine, and they offered him money. But somehow Valentine didn't
want their money. He said that the pleasure of getting Geraldine out
of the hands of the wicked Conjurer was reward enough for him, and so
he shook his head and refused the money that was offered him.
"Now, the little girl's father was rich and prosperous, while
Valentine was very poor, and it was natural that the rich man should
wonder why the boy, who was poor, should refuse money. Somehow, he
took a dislike to Valentine. He said to himself that a boy who would
refuse money as a free gift would never be prosperous.
"As time went on, Valentine grew to be a handsome young man, but he
was still poor. He went to see Geraldine sometimes, but as she grew
older, she grew shyer. Valentine couldn't understand this, but he
thought it was because she was old enough to know that she was rich
and he was poor.
"He said to her one day. 'You are not as friendly as you used to be.'
"'Oh, yes I am,' she replied. 'I shall always be friendly with you.'
"'No,' said he, 'you have changed.'
"'No more than you,' was her answer.
"'I changed?' he cried. 'I love you more than I ever did.'
"With that Geraldine hung her head to hide her blushes, but Valentine
thought she was angry. He turned on his heel and would have gone away,
but she called him back, and told him not to go away angry--and then
they made it up somehow. Valentine said he would speak to Geraldine's
father. This he did, but the father shook his head.
"'You want to take her to a hut?' he cried. 'Why she might as well
have stayed in the Conjurer's cave. Go and get you a fortune, and then
come back, and maybe we'll talk the matter over.'
"Valentine went away very sad. He never turned his head, although
Geraldine was watching him from a window, ready to wave her hand and
throw him a kiss. He wandered off into the woods until he came to the
bank of the River, and there he sat watching the water go by. He
watched it until he almost forgot his own trouble. It went along
slowly and majestically, and sometimes it seemed to come eddying back
to kiss the bank at his feet. For a little while it smoothed the
wrinkles in his mind. He wondered where the River came from and where
it was going to. It was always coming and always going, and there was
never an end to it. All day long it went by, sometimes laughing and
playing in the shallows and sometimes sighing a little under the
willows.
"Valentine watched it and listened to the pleasant sounds it made
until he began to feel as if the River was something like a friend and
companion. It soothed his grief and drove away his loneliness. Being
alone, he began to speak his thoughts aloud.
"'Oh! I wish I had a friend as strong and as powerful as the River!'
he cried.
"'And why not?' he heard a voice say. The water at his feet splashed a
little louder. He looked around, but saw no one; he listened, but
heard nothing.
"'I wonder who could have spoken?' he said aloud.
"'Who but your friend, the River?' a Voice replied.
"'Please don't mock me, whoever you are. There is no fun in
misfortune,' said Valentine.
"'None at all' responded the Voice. 'I am your friend the River. I
will give you all the aid in my power.'
"'How am I to know the River is talking?' Valentine asked.
"'By this,' replied the River. At the word, a wave larger than all the
rest sprang up the bank, and threw its spray in Valentine's hair and
face. 'That is my salute,' said the River. 'It is a rough way, but I
know no other. Now, how can I aid you?'
"'That is what troubles me,' responded Valentine. 'You are always
going; you never stay.'