I have been looking. Surely a man whose hearing is so acute must be a
good musician."
"Yes, yes!" said the man impatiently, "I am the finest conductor of an
orchestra in the whole world, but that avails me but little in these
days. Nobody cares for good music now!" With these words he shrugged his
shoulders and was about to pass on.
"Come with me to the King," cried Blessed-Eyes, "I think he has need of
you."
After a long talk with the King, and some experiments by which they
tested the man's fine sense of hearing, the King felt quite sure that he
was exactly the man needed as leader for the great orchestra which he
generously supported that the people might learn to love good music, so
he was at once put in charge of the same. The new musician proved to be
such a wonderful leader that no man in the whole orchestra dared play a
false note, and soon their music under this remarkable director, was
famed throughout the land, until thousands upon thousands came to hear
the afternoon concerts which were given each day in the largest of the
beautiful, white marble buildings.
One bright, spring morning Blessed-Eyes started out to enjoy the
sunshine and the perfume of the flowers and the glad song of the birds.
"Ah," thought he, as he walked along, drinking in great draughts of the
fine, fresh air, "no human being can possibly be sad on such a morning
as this." But while he was yet speaking, his eyes fell upon the
tear-stained face of a woman. As it was impossible for Blessed-Eyes to
pass any one who was in trouble, he stopped and said gently, "Dear
Madam, is there anything I can do for you?"
"Alas, alas!" said the poor woman, "What can you, or anyone else, do for
a broken-hearted mother whose four little children have been taken by
death from her arms. Unless I have children to love, life has no
brightness for me."
"Surely," said Blessed-Eyes softly and compassionately, "there are yet
many children who need your love. Will you not come with me to the
palace of the King?"
The woman looked puzzled and perplexed, but so sweet and gentle had been
the tone of his voice that she instinctively followed him. I do not know
just what happened in the consultation with the King, but this I do
know, that only a few days elapsed before the "Court of Honor" rang each
day with the voices of happy children as they followed the no longer
sad-faced woman around to the concert hall to hear the sweet music, or
off to the buildings whose walls were covered with beautiful pictures,
or back again to their own handsome building, set apart for their
particular use by the King.
Here she told them stories and taught them songs and led them in
charming games and plays, and trained their little hands into skillful
work until throughout the kingdom there was no happier band of children
than those who had once been the waifs of the city, wandering through
its streets. So full of motherly love was the woman's work with her new
children that other beautiful and noble women came, in time, and joined
her in it, until at last there was no child in the whole city who had
not learned how to use his hands skillfully, how to love sweet music,
how to enjoy beautiful pictures and how to be kind and thoughtful
towards others.
In time many of these children grew into manhood and womanhood and
became musicians, artists, authors, physicians, clergymen, and
wonderfully skilled workmen of all sorts. Many of the women married and
became loving and wise mothers because of the training they had received
from the pale-faced, childless woman in the King's "Court of Honor."
At last the good King died, and the question arose, "Who shall be our
next King." The counsellors of the nation met together to decide the
matter. They sent to the stonemasons far away in the back country and
the great master-mason cried, "Let Blessed-Eyes be our King! Did he not
teach me how to use my strong arms? Has he not furnished bread for us
and our families?" And the hundreds of stone-cutters and miners and
diggers round about shouted aloud, "Long live King Blessed-Eyes!"
Then they sent to the various villages and towns of the Kingdom and the
architects said "Let Blessed-Eyes be King! Has he not created the great
Court of Honor from which we have all learned to make beautiful whatever
we build!" And the carpenters and joiners and plasterers and painters
all cried out, "Long live King Blessed-Eyes!"
Then they sent to the mills and the factories of the great cities and
the masterworkmen and designers answered and said, "Why not make
Blessed-Eyes our King? It was he who first introduced Art into our land
and showed us how to make as beautiful as pictures our carpets and
curtains and walls. Have not these things made our merchandise sought
for all over the world." Then the spinners and weavers and dyers all
shouted aloud, "Long live King Blessed-Eyes!"
Then they sent to all the colleges and schools in the land and the grave
presidents and superintendents said, "We know of no better man than
Blessed-Eyes. He first taught us that a love of the beautiful should be
part of each child's education." Then the youths and the maidens, the
boys and the girls, and even the little children shouted until they were
hoarse, "Long live King Blessed-Eyes!"
Then the whole nation seemed to cry out, "Blessed-Eyes, Blessed-Eyes,
Long live King Blessed-Eyes!" There is none among us whom he has not
helped. When the news was brought to Blessed-Eyes that all the people
desired him to rule over them, he smiled gently and said, "I had hoped
to rest now, but if I can serve my country I must do it." So he was made
King and the nation became wise and great and powerful under his reign.
For the little children grew up learning to love the beautiful and to
see it everywhere until at last there was a whole nation of
blessed-eyes, and every city in the land became as beautiful as was the
White City by the Lake.
_THE LOVING CUP WHICH WAS MADE OF IRON._
Upon the edge of a great forest a woodcutter had built him a cottage,
and soon he brought a fair young bride to live in it. She was a neat,
trim, little body, who wasted nothing and kept everything in the house
in perfect order, so that in a short time their small yard showed her
care also.
One day some cousins came from town to see the woodcutter, and his wife.
They brought with them their dinner in a large basket, and a jolly time
they had of it, wandering through the woods, lying on the soft green
grass, and gathering the wild flowers. Finally, hunger drove them back
to the woodcutter's house, and as they sat on the porch eating their
luncheon, they thoughtlessly threw the skins of their oranges and the
banana peelings on the grass in front of them. The woodcutter's wife
said nothing, but she felt sure that such litter and dirt on the fresh
green grass would grieve the wood-fairies who were trying to keep the
forest and all of its surroundings as beautiful as possible. Therefore
when the guests had gone, she quietly picked up all the skins and scraps
of paper and burned them.
This so pleased the wood-fairies, that when her first boy baby came,
they sent him a _loving-cup_ of gold. Around it were circles of diamonds
and pearls and deep red rubies. Of course, the young mother was very
happy, for she knew that such a gift meant her son would some day
possess much money. So she set herself to work to make her yard more
beautiful than it had been before, by planting flower-seeds in a border
by the fence. "If my son is to become a rich man," said she to herself,
"he must learn to love what is beautiful, that he may use his money
wisely." She did not stop when she had made her own yard beautiful, but
soon began scattering more flower-seed down by the spring that the
wood-fairies might have flowers to enjoy while they came to drink.
Before long her kind heart led her to plant other flowers by the dusty
roadside and down in the lonely valley, in order that weary travelers,
as they journeyed along, might see the bright blossoms and smell the
sweet perfume.
This pleased the wood-fairies even more than her thoughtful tidiness
had done, so, when her second boy baby came, they sent him a
_loving-cup_ of pure silver. Around the outside of it were carved
pictures of youths and maidens dancing in a circle on the green grass.
This gift made the mother even happier than the first had done, for she
read in the carving on the cup that her boy would love the open air and
would grow up strong and healthy and her heart grew tender to all things
about her.
She had noticed that some of the ugliest and most neglected weeds often
bore delicate flowers, which, however, soon faded for lack of care. "I
will see," said she, "if I cannot make the weeds grow into flowers by
watering them and pruning them and lovingly caring for them. In this way
I can help to make the whole forest wholesome, and thus show the
wood-fairies that I am grateful to them for their gift of health to my
second son."
She began by caring for the weeds which stood nearest her own home, and
was rewarded by seeing them slowly change into shapely plants and their
blossoms become strong and beautiful. Then her care extended to the
weeds along the wayside, and in a short time there was not a hurtful
weed to be found in the neighborhood. All had been changed, by a little
patient care, into strong, thrifty shrubs and plants, each blooming
according to its own nature, but all gladdening the sight by their
bright flowers and healthy green leaves.
This changing of weeds into flowers so surprised and delighted the
wood-fairies who had never heard of such a thing, that when her third
boy-baby came, they consulted among themselves and decided to send him
the _best gift_ they had to bestow. Accordingly they sent to the new
baby a _loving-cup_ made of strong, black iron, and with it, three large
earthen jars. One was filled with the sweetest golden nectar ever tasted
by mortal lips, another contained a brown vinegar so sour that half a
teaspoonful of it would make your face wrinkle, while the third jar held
a blackish-looking gall, of such a bitter flavor that one drop of it
would make one shrink from ever wanting to taste it again. With this
strange present they sent word that if the mother loved her boy, whom by
the way she had named Philip, she would mix a cupful of the sweet
nectar, the sour vinegar and the bitter gall, using half as much vinegar
as she did nectar, and half as much gall as vinegar, and give it to the
boy to drink on his birthday, each year, until he was twenty-one years
old.
The mother hesitated. It seemed so hard to make her darling child taste
of the bitter gall when there was plenty of the sweet nectar to last
until he was grown, but she knew that the wood-fairies were wise. Were
they not trying to make the whole earth beautiful? Surely they would not
require so hard a thing of her unless it was for little Philip's
welfare.
Therefore, each succeeding birthday she mixed the fairies' drink and
poured it into the iron cup and gave it to the child. Sometimes he cried
and sometimes he fretted, but she held the cup firmly to his lips until
the last drop was drained, and then she would kiss him and tell him that
he was her dear, brave boy, and would some day thank her for making him
drink the fairies' potion. He soon found that if he drank the contents
of the loving-cup early in the morning, he tasted nothing but the sweet
nectar, whereas if he put it off until noon, he could not taste anything
but the sour vinegar, and when he delayed the drinking of it until
night, it seemed as if the whole contents of the cup had changed to
gall, and he would be days and days getting over the bitter taste. So
being a sensible boy, he learned to drink it as soon as it was mixed.
Each year he grew more loving and thoughtful of others, more like the
wood-fairies in his effort to make the world around him beautiful.
Little by little he gained the power which the wood-fairies alone can
give--the wonderful power of knowing just what is going on in the hearts
of the people about you, even when you do not speak to them or they to
you.
If he chanced to meet a sad-faced man or woman on the street, his
beautiful eyes seemed to say more tenderly than words could say, "I see
you are in trouble and I feel _so sorry_ for you." If he passed a group
of merry makers, his smile was so bright that they knew it meant "What a
lot of fun you are having! I am so glad!" As he grew older his hands
became almost as wonderful as his eyes, or his smile. If he found a
little child crying over a broken toy he would stop and mend it, and in
a few moments the tears would be gone and the little one would go off
laughing or singing, hugging his mended toy.
Sometimes a young girl would come to him with a beautiful picture which
she had been embroidering on a screen, but which had been spoiled by
some crooked, careless stitches, and he would patiently sit down beside
her and would point out to her just where the wrong stitches had been
put into the picture, and would help her take them out. Then he would
show her how to put in the right kind of stitches and she would go away
happy and contented, ready to work day by day on the lovely screen with
which she was someday going to make her future home beautiful.
Now and then a young musician would find that his silver flute played
only harsh discords instead of sweet melodies and he would grow
discouraged and be ready to throw it away, when Philip would come along
and pick up the flute quietly and examine it and discover that the
jarring sounds came because it was not free from the dust and dirt of
the street. Then he would tell the young player what was the matter and
would stay with him until he had made the flute as clean as a flute
should be, and he was usually rewarded by some fine music from the
grateful musician. Occasionally he would come across a man toiling along
the road with a pack on his back, so heavy that he was bent nearly
double by it. Then Philip would stop him and plan with him how the load
could be divided into two packs so that he might carry one under each
arm, and thus be able to walk straight and erect and hold his head up as
a man should. Nobody ever dreamed of telling him a lie! "He knows just
how we feel" people used to say, and somehow the sight of his strong,
manly face stirred within them a desire to be brave and noble, and true,
and he was beloved by all who knew him.
This indeed was the most precious gift which the wood-fairies could
give.
_HANS AND THE FOUR BIG GIANTS._
Once upon a time there lived a little boy whose name was Hans. His home
was in a village where the tall trees shaded the green grass that grew
around the houses. Hans loved his home very much. He loved to hear the
birds sing and to watch them fly high in the air, and he often threw
crumbs upon the ground for them to eat. He loved the bright red and blue
and yellow flowers which grew in the garden behind the house. He
delighted in the sweet odors which came all unseen from their very
hearts. So he gladly watered them when they looked thirsty. His mother
soon taught him how to place strong straight sticks beside the weak
vines so that they, too, could climb up and get the sunlight. Hans loved
the dear old hens and their downy little chickens that were not afraid
to peck the grain out of his hand. In fact, Hans loved everything and
everybody about him, from the small naked worms which crawled about
among the clods of earth, up to the strange and beautiful stars which
shone so high above his head.
He was a very happy, little fellow, always busy, always finding
something to do for somebody.
By and by, when he grew to be a tall, strong lad, he used to go with his
father to the forest to chop wood and thus help earn money which went to
buy food and clothes for his mother and his three younger brothers, for
Hans' father was poor and money was scarce in his family.
After a time, when Hans had grown so tall that you and I would call him
a young man, his father said to him: "Hans, my boy, it is time now that
you started out to hunt some work for yourself. Your next younger
brother can help me with the wood chopping and the smaller ones can help
the mother in the work about the house. You must go out into the world
and learn how to take care of yourself, and perhaps some day you may
have to take care of your mother and me when we grow too old to work."
So Hans' mother packed his clothes in a little bundle, and, as she
kissed him good-bye, she said: "Hans, my precious son, always be brave
and true, and the good God will take care of you." Hans then bade
farewell to his father and his younger brothers and started on his
journey.
He walked a long way until by and by he came to a great city, where the
houses looked dingy with smoke and the rattle of the carts and wagons
made an incessant roar. After a time he found some work in the shop of a
blacksmith, and although the work was grimy and rather hard to do Hans
used to like to see the sparks fly from the red hot iron every time he
struck a blow with his heavy hammer. He was very proud when at last he
could shape the hard iron into a fine horseshoe almost as well as the
smith himself. Hans did not know it, but this very work was making his
arms grow big and strong and his chest broad and full.
Every day Hans used to see a beautiful princess drive past the
blacksmith's shop. She was the most beautiful princess in the world, and
although her blue eyes and golden hair were admired by everyone, she was
chiefly beloved because of her sweet smile. Hans used often to say to
himself: "How I wish I could serve this lovely young princess." At last
one day he went to the palace gate and asked the gatekeeper if there was
not some work in the palace which he could do.
"What can you do?" asked the gatekeeper.
"I am willing to do any kind of work which the king may need to have
done," answered Hans.
Then the gatekeeper passed him on to the keeper of the king's palace.
"What can you do?" again asked the keeper of the king's palace.
"I am willing to do any kind of work which the king may need to have
done," replied Hans.
So the keeper of the palace told the king that there was a strong, tall
young man without who wanted to serve him. "Bring him to me," said the
king. When Hans came into the presence of the mighty king the monarch
looked at him very hard for a few moments and then said: "What can you
do, young man?" And again Hans replied: "I am willing to do anything
that you may need to have done. I would like to serve the beautiful
princess."
"You would, would you?" cried the king. "Now I will test you. In the
bottom of the North Sea there lies a string of enchanted pearls. If you
will get those pearls and bring them to me you shall serve my daughter,
the princess, and in time I may make you governor over one of my
provinces; who knows?" And the king laughed to himself.
Hans was wild with delight and, turning, hastened out of the palace. The
very next day he started on his journey to the North Sea. He walked and
walked a long way until he was very tired. At length, just ahead of him,
he saw a big giant rushing along in the strangest fashion.
"Good morning," said Hans, as he caught up with the giant. "What a very
large giant you are!"
"Yes," replied the giant, looking down at Hans, "I have need to be both
large and strong. Where are you going, young man?"
"I am going," answered Hans, "to the North Sea to try to get a string of
enchanted pearls which lies at the bottom of the sea."
"Ah!" said the tall giant, "it will take you a long time to get there.
Now if you could walk as fast as I can, it would be an easy matter."
"How fast can you walk?" asked Hans.
"I can walk faster than a greyhound can run," said the giant, "and when
I run, the swift river cannot keep pace with me."
"Can you, indeed?" exclaimed Hans. "What a fine fellow you are! I wish
you would come along with me. After I find the string of pearls I want
to get back to the king's palace as soon as possible, for I am to serve
the beautiful princess."
"If that's the case," said the giant, "I think I will go along with
you."
The two walked along, chatting together, until they saw what Hans
thought must be a huge round stone lying in the road. When, however,
they came up to it, he saw that it was another big giant lying asleep by
the road side. The hot sun was pouring down upon his face. "Stay here,"
said Hans, "until I can cut a branch from some tree to shade that poor
fellow's face. The sun is so hot it will soon blister him."
At these words the tall giant laughed aloud. "Ho, ho!" he cried, "don't
you know who that is? He is a neighbor of mine. He has such strong eyes
that he can see a fly on a leaf of a tree a mile away."
The loud laugh of the tall giant awoke the sleeping giant, and he opened
his great eyes and stared at Hans. "What are you doing, young man?"
growled he.
"Oh, nothing," said Hans. "I was merely sticking these branches into the
ground so that they might keep the sun out of your eyes."
"Bah!" cried the great giant, sitting up, "did you not know that my eyes
were so strong that I could look the noonday sun straight in the face?"
"Indeed! Indeed!" said Hans. "What a wonderful giant you must be. I wish
you would come with me. I may need your strong eyes, for I am on my way
to the North Sea to search for an enchanted necklace of pearls which
lies at the bottom of the sea."
"Oh ho!" said the giant, "if that's the case I think I will go with
you."
So Hans and the two big giants walked on together. They had not gone
more than three or four miles when Hans spied another great giant
sitting under a tall tree. As they came up to him the wind blew his hat
off his head. "I will fetch it for you," cried Hans, as he ran forward
after the hat; but before he could get to the spot where the hat lay,
the big giant reached out his long arm and himself picked up his hat and
put it again on his head. At this all three of the huge giants laughed.
"Didn't you know that he was the giant who could reach 500 yards?" asked
the long-legged giant.
"No," exclaimed Hans, clapping his hands with delight. "You are just the
giant I need. When I get to the North Sea you can reach down to the
bottom of it and pick up the enchanted necklace of pearls. Will you not
come and help me?"
The new giant thought for a minute or two and then said: "Oh, yes; I
will go along if I can be of any use to you."
So Hans and the three big giants started gayly forward on their journey
to the North Sea. They had not gone far before Hans saw in the distance
another giant quietly leaning up against a very large rock. He seemed so
deep in thought that he did not see Hans and his fellow travelers until
they came near to where he stood. Hans noticed that both of this giant's
ears were stopped with cotton. "Have you the earache?" asked Hans.
"Perhaps I can do something to ease your pain."
"Oh, no," said the giant, "I merely stuffed cotton into my ears to shut
off some of the sounds about me. I can hear so well that I can tell what
men are saying a hundred miles away from me."
"What a valuable giant you must be!" exclaimed Hans. "Will you not come
with me? When I get the enchanted necklace of pearls you can tell me
whether it will be safe to take it back to the king's palace."
The giant being very good-natured, said: "You think you will need me, do
you? Well, I'll go along."
So Hans and the four big giants walked until they came to the North Sea.
Then they got into a boat and rowed out to the deep water. The giant who
could see so far soon found the place where the necklace lay on the sand
at the bottom of the sea. Then the giant whose arms were so long reached
down and picked up the necklace and laid it in the boat. Hans and the
giants now rowed back to the shore.
As soon as they had landed, the giant who could hear so well took the
cotton out of his right ear and listened to what was being said at the
king's palace. He heard the people in the palace talking of a grand
festival which was to take place the next night in honor of the birthday
of the beautiful princess. He then told Hans of what he had heard, and
the giant who could run so fast stooped down and let Hans climb up and
seat himself on his great shoulders, and away the two sped, faster than
a bird could fly. They reached the palace in time for Hans to give the
enchanted necklace of pearls to the king, just as he was about to seat
his beautiful daughter upon a throne beside his own.