“Once upon a time, a long while ago, I was standing on the rounded
shore of the world, gazing into space. As I stood there, lost in
thought, my attention was eventually called to a long, slow succession
of sounds like sighs, infinitely sad, but inexpressibly sweet.
“Whilst I was wondering what these sounds might mean, and from whence
they came, at my feet I suddenly perceived a very extraordinary-looking
little person, who appeared to be all head and no body. He was looking
up at me with such a wistful expression on his face that I felt
impelled to ask him, ‘Who are you, and what is your Story?’ And by way
of answer, in a very slow and somewhat hesitating way, this is what he
said:—
“‘My name is Music, though my parents call me Breve. For untold ages I
have lived upon the outer edge of the earth with my father, Harmony,
and my mother, Concord. Both my parents have quite an exalted opinion
of me; but so far I have not come up to their expectations. I am very
sorry that this should be the case, for nothing would please me better
than to justify their hopes.
“‘The truth is, however, that they are so wrapped up in each other and
their mutual affairs, that they will not listen to what I have to say,
and so I make no progress. I am but a single sound sighing in a
wilderness! If by chance I could persuade them, or, for that matter,
anyone else, to do what I know in my mind is the right thing to be
done, I am certain I should be a success. I know, though they do not,
that my head is as full of dainty melodies as a pomegranate is full of
pretty seeds, and that if only my poor tongue-tied condition were
remedied, so that I might use that organ as it should be used, I could
release an Octave, eight little fellows who beneath my tongue are now
held captive; but who, if they were only free, are possessed of such
astounding and never-ending ability, as to be able to produce a
succession of the most musical notes, the like of which have never
before been heard.’
“Here he sighed most mightily, and then it was that I saw he rested in
the opening of a shell that is called a ‘conch.’
“‘But,’ said I, ‘how am I to loose your tongue? I am no surgeon,
neither have I a knife or other cutting instrument wherewith to perform
the operation. Besides, would you not die if such an unpractised hand
as mine attempted so delicate a task?’
“‘Not at all!’ he replied, in his soft, slow tone; ‘I should certainly
die away just as an echo does when fleeing into space; but it really
would not hurt me, I assure you!’
“Still feeling very puzzled, however, I sought for further information,
and so said to him, ‘But where and how did you become possessed of all
these sweet-sounding notes which you claim your Octave can produce with
such never-ending brilliance and variety? And further, supposing I were
willing to assist you in the direction you desire, having no knife, as
I told you before, is there any other way in which I could safely
render you the service that you seek?’
“Instantly he brightened, and, speaking as fast as his poor tongue-tied
condition would permit, this is what he replied:
“‘These notes that I am simply yearning to release I have carefully
gathered together over millions of years! They have come to me from the
Ocean and the Breeze, and, as they came, I classified and arranged
them. Over me, throughout those infinite ages, the tumbling seas have
tossed and the careless winds have blown! But always, whenever a new
note I heard, I promptly seized upon it and stored it with the rest,
and as it is tens of thousands of years since last I added to my
collection, I am now fully satisfied that there are no fresh notes to
be obtained.
“‘As to the way in which you can assist me, please hold me up to face
the wind, or, better still, blow upon me strongly with your breath, and
all will be well.’
“So, obedient to his desire, I picked him up in my two hands, and
holding him firmly, blew sharply and strongly upon him with my breath,
and, true enough, just as he had predicted, out came eight little
fellows who called themselves ‘Semi-Breves,’ dancing and jumping about
on my hands in the utmost glee!
“All at once they started singing, ‘Blow again! Blow again!’ and so
amused was I with their caperings and cries that I blew upon them just
as I had blown upon Breve, whom I thereupon let fall.
“In the flash of an eye my hands filled to overflowing with any number
of other little fellows, who called themselves ‘Minims,’ ‘Crotchets,’
‘Quavers,’ and ‘Semi-Quavers,’ and I know not what beside. And they
laughed such pretty rippling laughter that I felt constrained to join
them. Yet, almost before I could utter a sound, some of them popped
into my mouth, and to my utter astonishment, I found my hard, dry
laughter had become almost as musical as their own.
“Whilst still more or less amazed at this delightful discovery, a
skylark and a nightingale, attracted by the sweet sounds, came up to
listen to what was taking place. ‘Here,’ said I, ‘take some of these
for yourselves!’ and I threw to each of them a few of the notes just as
they started to speak. Both were nearly choked as the notes went flying
down their throats, but when they next essayed to speak they sang
instead, and the music in their voices was of such a quality as to
leave the listeners spellbound with delight.
“These extraordinary happenings gave me a great idea. Calling to my aid
the idling Winds, I said to them, ‘Take from me these glorious notes;
spread them far and wide; leaving some where’er you sink to rest, and
giving some to all who care to take them. Be swift, and see to it that
your task is well performed!’
“Happily the winds were willing to obey my orders; and so, to the
uttermost ends of the Universe there was taken a measure of Music’s
notes. And to every class and kind of living thing was offered a share.
A very few refused the munificent gift, and so spend their lives in
stony silence.
“But the great majority accepted, some, the singers, to improve their
voices; others, the players upon instruments, to add to the deftness of
their fingers and the delicacy of their touch; others, again, such as
the Nightingale, the Bul-bul, and the Skylark, to fill the night or
morning with their glorious mother melodies, to the great delight of
all who pause to hear!”
Thus ended the Story, and so was brought to a happy conclusion the
ceremonies and the entertainments connected with the marriage
festivities.
The Band then struck up the Fairies’ National Anthem, and as all stood
up whilst King Waratah and Queen Wattle Blossom passed slowly and
smilingly down the room, there began for the Royal couple such a
wonderful career of love and happiness that even to this day it is the
pride and joy of Austral Fairyland!