"Punish me not," pleaded the bee. "I am but one of your Majesty's
smallest and humblest slaves, but even I may be of service to your
Majesty some day."
These words from the little bee made the whole Court laugh. Even the
goblins which could not speak grinned from ear to ear and rolled their
big eyes.
"Silence!" commanded the King sternly. "There is naught to laugh at in
the bee's answer. It pleases me well. Go, thou art free. Some day I may
need thee."
The little bee bowed its head three times before the King and flew away,
buzzing happily.
Next day it kept quite close to the Palace.
"I want to see the procession when the Queen of Sheba arrives," it
said, "and I also must be near the King in case His Majesty may want
me."
In great state, the beautiful Queen of Sheba, followed by hundreds of
handsomely robed attendants, approached King Solomon who was seated on
his Throne, surrounded by all his Court.
"Great and mighty King of Israel," she said, curtseying low, "I have
heard of thy great wisdom and would fain put it to the test. Hitherto
all questions put to thee hast thou answered without difficulty. But I
have sworn to puzzle thy wondrous wisdom with my woman's wit. Be
heedful."
"Beauteous Queen of Sheba," returned King Solomon, rising and bowing in
return to her curtsey, "thou art as witty as thou art fair, and if thou
art successful in puzzling me, thy triumph shall be duly rewarded. I
will load thee with rich presents and proclaim thy wit and wisdom to the
whole world."
"I accept thy challenge," replied the Queen, "and at once."
Behind Her Majesty stood two beautiful girl attendants, each holding a
bouquet of flowers. The Queen of Sheba took the flowers, and holding a
bouquet in each hand, said to King Solomon:
"Tell me, thou who art the wisest man on earth, which of these bunches
of flowers is real and which artificial."
"They are both beautiful and their fragrance delicious in the extreme,"
replied King Solomon.
"Ah," said the Queen, "but only one bunch has fragrance. Which is it?"
King Solomon looked at the flowers. Both bunches looked exactly alike.
From where he sat, it was impossible to detect any difference. He did
not answer at once, and he knit his brows as if perplexed. The courtiers
also looked troubled. Never before had they seen the King hesitate.
"Is it impossible for your Majesty to answer the question?" the Queen
asked.
Solomon shook his head and smiled.
"Never yet has a problem baffled me," he said. "Your Majesty shall be
answered, and correctly."
"And at once," said the Queen of Sheba imperiously.
"So be it," answered King Solomon, gazing thoughtfully round and raising
his magic scepter.
Immediately he heard what no one else did, the faint buzzing of the tiny
wings of the little bee which had settled on one of the window panes of
the Palace.
"Bid that window be opened," he commanded, pointing to it with his
scepter, "and let the bee enter to obey my wish."
The window was promptly opened, and in flew the little bee. Straight
towards the Queen of Sheba it flew, and now its buzzing could be heard
by all the courtiers, who eagerly watched its flight through the air.
Without any hesitation, it settled on the bouquet in the Queen's left
hand.
"Thou hast my answer, fair Queen of Sheba," said King Solomon, rising,
"given to thee by one of the tiniest of my subjects. It has settled on
the flowers that are natural. The bouquet in your right hand is made by
human hands."
The whole Court applauded the monarch's wisdom in bidding the little bee
help him out of his difficulty.
"Your Majesty is indeed the wisest man on earth," said the Queen.
"Thanks, my little friend," said the King to the bee, and it flew away,
buzzing merrily.
[Illustration: THE WELL OF THE WORLD'S END]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 8: From _Jewish Fairy Tales and Fables,_ by Aunt Naomi. Robert
Scott, London.]
THE WELL OF THE WORLD'S END[9]
ONCE upon a time, and a very good time it was, though it wasn't in my
time, nor in your time, nor in any one else's time, there was a girl
whose mother had died, and her father married again. And her stepmother
hated her because she was more beautiful than herself, and she was very
cruel to her. She used to make her do all the servant's work, and never
let her have any peace.
At last, one day, the stepmother thought to get rid of her altogether;
so she handed her a sieve and said to her: "Go, fill it at the Well of
the World's End and bring it home to me full, or woe betide you." For
she thought she would never be able to find the Well of the World's End,
and, if she did, how could she bring home a sieve full of water?
Well, the girl started off, and asked every one she met to tell her
where was the Well of the World's End. But nobody knew, and she didn't
know what to do, when a queer little old woman, all bent double, told
her where it was, and how she could get to it. So she did what the old
woman told her, and at last arrived at the Well of the World's End. But
when she dipped the sieve in the cold, cold water, it all ran out again.
She tried and she tried again, but every time it was the same; and at
last she sat down and cried as if her heart would break.
Suddenly she heard a croaking voice, and she looked up and saw a great
frog with goggle eyes looking at her and speaking to her.
"What's the matter, dearie?" it said.
"Oh, dear, oh, dear," she said, "my stepmother has sent me all this long
way to fill this sieve with water from the Well of the World's End, and
I can't fill it no how at all."
"Well," said the frog, "if you promise me to do whatever I bid you for a
whole night long, I'll tell you how to fill it."
So the girl agreed, and the frog said:
"Stop it with moss and daub it with clay,
And then it will carry the water away";
and then it gave a hop, skip, and a jump, and went flop into the Well of
the World's End.
So the girl looked about for some moss, and lined the bottom of the
sieve with it, and over that she put some clay, and then she dipped it
once again into the Well of the World's End; and this time the water
didn't run out, and she turned to go away.
Just then the frog popped up its head out of the Well of the World's
End, and said: "Remember your promise."
"All right," said the girl; for, thought she, "what harm can a frog do
me?"
So she went back to her stepmother, and brought the sieve full of water
from the Well of the World's End. The stepmother was angry as angry, but
she said nothing at all.
That very evening they heard something tap-tapping at the door low down,
and a voice cried out:
"Open the door, my hinny, my heart,
Open the door, my own darling;
Mind you the words that you and I spoke,
Down in the meadow, at the World's End Well."
"Whatever can that be?" cried out the stepmother, and the girl had to
tell her all about it, and what she had promised the frog.
"Girls must keep their promises," said the stepmother. "Go and open the
door this instant." For she was glad the girl would have to obey a nasty
frog.
So the girl went and opened the door, and there was the frog from the
Well of the World's End. And it hopped, and it hopped, and it jumped,
till it reached the girl, and then it said:
"Lift me to your knee, my hinny, my heart;
Lift me to your knee, my own darling;
Remember the words you and I spake,
Down in the meadow by the World's End Well."
But the girl didn't like to, till her stepmother said: "Lift it up this
instant, you hussy! Girls must keep their promises!"
So at last she lifted the frog up on to her lap, and it lay there for a
time, till at last it said:
"Give me some supper, my hinny, my heart,
Give me some supper, my darling;
Remember the words you and I spake,
In the meadow, by the Well of the World's End."
Well, she didn't mind doing that, so she got it a bowl of milk and
bread, and fed it well. And when the frog had finished, it said:
"Go with me to bed, my hinny, my heart,
Go with me to bed, my own darling;
Mind you the words you spake to me,
Down by the cold well, so weary."
But that the girl wouldn't do, till her stepmother said: "Do what you
promised, girl; girls must keep their promises. Do what you're bid, or
out you go, you and your froggie."
So the girl took the frog with her to bed, and kept it as far away from
her as she could. Well, just as the day was beginning to break what
should the frog say but:
"Chop off my head, my hinny, my heart,
Chop off my head, my own darling;
Remember the promise you made to me,
Down by the cold well so weary."
At first the girl wouldn't, for she thought of what the frog had done
for her at the Well of the World's End. But when the frog said the words
over again, she went and took an ax and chopped off its head, and lo!
and behold, there stood before her a handsome young prince, who told her
that he had been enchanted by a wicked magician, and he could never be
unspelled till some girl would do his bidding for a whole night, and
chop off his head at the end of it.
The stepmother was surprised indeed when she found the young prince
instead of the nasty frog, and she wasn't best pleased, you may be sure,
when the prince told her that he was going to marry her stepdaughter
because she had unspelled him. But married they were, and went away to
live in the castle of the king, his father, and all the stepmother had
to console her was, that it was all through her that her stepdaughter
was married to a prince.
[Illustration: WINGS]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 9: From _English Fairy Tales,_ by Joseph Jacobs. Courtesy of
G. P. Putnam's Sons, Publishers, New York and London.]
WINGS[10]
A PEASANT girl was feeding geese, and she wept. The farmer's daughter
came by and asked, "What are you blubbering about?"
"I haven't got any wings," cried the peasant girl. "Oh, I wish I could
grow some wings."
"You stupid!" said the farmer's daughter. "Of course you haven't got
wings. What do you want wings for?"
"I want to fly up into the sky and sing my little songs there," answered
the little peasant girl.
Then the farmer's daughter was angry, and said again, "You stupid! How
can you ever expect to grow wings? Your father's only a farm-laborer.
They might grow on me, but not on you."
When the farmer's daughter had said that, she went away to the well,
sprinkled some water on her shoulders, and stood out among the
vegetables in the garden, waiting for her wings to sprout. She really
believed the sun would bring them out quite soon.
But in a little while a merchant's daughter came along the road and
called out to the girl who was trying to grow wings in the garden, "What
are you doing standing out there, red face?"
"I am growing wings," said the farmer's daughter. "I want to fly."
Then the merchant's daughter laughed loudly, and cried out, "You stupid
farm-girl; if you had wings they would only be a weight on your back."
The merchant's daughter thought she knew who was most likely to grow
wings. And when she went back to the town where she lived she bought
some olive-oil and rubbed it on her shoulders, and went out into the
garden and waited for her wings to grow.
By and by a young lady of the Court came along, and said to her, "What
are you doing out there, my child?"
When the tradesman's daughter said that she was growing wings, the young
lady's face flushed and she looked quite vexed.
"That's not for you to do," she said. "It is only real ladies who can
grow wings."
And she went on home, and when she got indoors she filled a tub with
milk and bathed herself in it, and then went into her garden and stood
in the sun and waited for her wings to come out. Presently a princess
passed by the garden, and when she saw the young lady standing there she
sent a servant to inquire what she was doing. The servant came back and
told her that as the young lady had wanted to be able to fly she had
bathed herself in milk and was waiting for her wings to grow.
The princess laughed scornfully and exclaimed, "What a foolish girl!
She's giving herself trouble for nothing. No one who is not a princess
can ever grow wings."
The princess turned the matter over in her mind, and when she arrived at
her father's palace she went into her chamber, anointed herself with
sweet-smelling perfumes, and then went down into the palace garden to
wait for her wings to come.
Very soon all the young girls in the country round about went out into
their gardens and stood among the vegetables so that they might get
wings.
The Fairy of the Wings heard about this strange happening and she flew
down to earth, and, looking at the waiting girls, she said, "If I give
you all wings and let you all go flying into the sky, who will want to
stay at home to cook the porridge and look after the children? I had
better give wings only to one of you, namely, to her who wanted them
first of all."
So wings grew from the little peasant girl's shoulders, and she was able
to fly up into the sky and sing.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 10: From _The Sweet-Scented Name,_ by Fedor Sologub. Edited by
Stephen Graham. Constable & Company, London.]
CHRISTMAS STORIES
[Illustration: THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO]
THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO[11]
IN an old time, long ago, when the fairies were in the world, there
lived a little girl so uncommonly fair and pleasant of look, that they
called her Snowflower. This girl was good as well as pretty. No one had
ever seen her frown or heard her say a cross word, and young and old
were glad when they saw her coming.
Snowflower had no relation in the world but a very old grandmother. . . .
Every evening, when the fire was heaped with the sticks she had
gathered till it blazed and crackled up the cottage chimney, Dame
Frostyface set aside her wheel, and told her a new story. Often did the
little girl wonder where her grandmother had gathered so many stories,
but she soon learned that. One sunny morning, at the time of the
swallows' coming, the dame rose up, put on the gray hood and mantle in
which she carried her yarn to the fairs, and said, "My child, I am going
a long journey to visit an aunt of mine, who lives far in the north
country. I cannot take you with me, because my aunt is the crossest
woman alive, and never liked young people: but the hens will lay eggs
for you; there is barley-meal in the barrel; and, as you have been a
good girl, I'll tell you what to do when you feel lonely. Lay your head
gently down on the cushion of the arm-chair, and say, 'Chair of my
grandmother, tell me a story.' It was made by a cunning fairy, who lived
in the forest when I was young, and she gave it to me because she knew
nobody could keep what they got hold of better. Remember, you must never
ask a story more than once in the day; and if there be any occasion to
travel, you have only to seat yourself in it, and say, 'Chair of my
grandmother, take me such a way.' It will carry you wherever you wish;
but mind to oil the wheels before you set out, for I have sat on it
these forty years in that same corner."
Having said this, Dame Frostyface set forth to see her aunt in the north
country. Snowflower gathered firing and looked after the hens and cat as
usual. She baked herself a cake or two of the barley-meal; but when the
evening fell the cottage looked lonely. Then Snowflower remembered her
grandmother's words, and, laying her head gently down, she said, "Chair
of my grandmother, tell me a story."
Scarce were the words spoken, when a clear voice from under the velvet
cushion . . . said: _"Listen to the story of the Christmas Cuckoo!"_
"Once upon a time there stood in the midst of a bleak moor, in the north
country, a certain village; all its inhabitants were poor, for their
fields were barren, and they had little trade, but the poorest of them
all were two brothers called Scrub and Spare, who followed the cobbler's
craft, and had but one stall between them. It was a hut built of clay
and wattles. The door was low and always open, for there was no window.
The roof did not entirely keep out the rain, and the only thing
comfortable about it was a wide hearth, for which the brothers could
never find wood enough to make a sufficient fire. There they worked in
most brotherly friendship, though with little encouragement.
"The people of that village were not extravagant in shoes, and better
cobblers than Scrub and Spare might be found. Spiteful people said there
were no shoes so bad that they would not be worse for their mending.
Nevertheless Scrub and Spare managed to live between their own trade, a
small barley field, and a cottage garden, till one unlucky day when a
new cobbler arrived in the village. He had lived in the capital city of
the kingdom, and, by his own account, cobbled for the queen and the
princesses. His awls were sharp, his lasts were new; he set up his stall
in a neat cottage with two windows. The villagers soon found out that
one patch of his would wear two of the brothers'. In short, all the
mending left Scrub and Spare, and went to the new cobbler. The season
had been wet and cold, their barley did not ripen well, and the cabbages
never half closed in the garden. So the brothers were poor that winter,
and when Christmas came they had nothing to feast on but a barley loaf,
a piece of rusty bacon, and some small beer of their own brewing. Worse
than that, the snow was very deep, and they could get no firewood. Their
hut stood at the end of the village, beyond it spread the bleak moor,
now all white and silent; but that moor had once been a forest, great
roots of old trees were still to be found in it, loosened from the soil
and laid bare by the winds and rains--one of these, a rough gnarled log,
lay hard by their door, the half of it above the snow, and Spare said to
his brother:
"'Shall we sit here cold on Christmas while the great root lies yonder?
Let us chop it up for firewood, the work will make us warm.'
"'No,' said Scrub; 'it's not right to chop wood on Christmas; besides,
that root is too hard to be broken with any hatchet.'
"'Hard or not we must have a fire,' replied Spare. 'Come, brother, help
me in with it. Poor as we are, there is nobody in the village will have
such a yule log as ours.'
"Scrub liked a little grandeur, and in hopes of having a fine yule log,
both brothers strained and strove with all their might till, between
pulling and pushing, the great old root was safe on the hearth, and
beginning to crackle and blaze with the red embers. In high glee, the
cobblers sat down to their beer and bacon. The door was shut, for there
was nothing but cold moonlight and snow outside; but the hut, strewn
with fir boughs, and ornamented with holly, looked cheerful as the ruddy
blaze flared up and rejoiced their hearts.
"'Long life and good fortune to ourselves, brother!' said Spare. 'I hope
you will drink that toast, and may we never have a worse fire on
Christmas--but what is that?'
"Spare set down the drinking-horn, and the brothers listened astonished,
for out of the blazing root they heard, 'Cuckoo! cuckoo!' as plain as
ever the spring-bird's voice came over the moor on a May morning.
"'It is something bad,' said Scrub, terribly frightened.
"'May be not,' said Spare; and out of the deep hole at the side which
the fire had not reached flew a large gray cuckoo, and lit on the table
before them. Much as the cobblers had been surprised, they were still
more so when it said:
"'Good gentlemen, what season is this?'
"'It's Christmas,' said Spare.
"'Then a merry Christmas to you!' said the cuckoo. 'I went to sleep in
the hollow of that old root one evening last summer, and never woke till
the heat of your fire made me think it was summer again; but now since
you have burned my lodging, let me stay in your hut till the spring
comes around--I only want a hole to sleep in, and when I go on my
travels next summer be assured I will bring you some present for your
trouble.'
"'Stay, and welcome,' said Spare, while Scrub sat wondering if it were
something bad or not; 'I'll make you a good warm hole in the thatch. But
you must be hungry after that long sleep?--here is a slice of barley
bread. Come help us to keep Christmas!'
"The cuckoo ate up the slice, drank water from the brown jug, for he
would take no beer, and flew into a snug hole which Spare scooped for
him in the thatch of the hut.
"Scrub said he was afraid it wouldn't be lucky; but as it slept on and
the days passed he forgot his fears. So the snow melted, the heavy rains
came, the cold grew less, the days lengthened, and one sunny morning the
brothers were awakened by the cuckoo shouting its own cry to let them
know the spring had come.
"'Now I'm going on my travels,' said the bird, 'over the world to tell
men of the spring. There is no country where trees bud or flowers bloom,
that I will not cry in before the year goes round. Give me another slice
of barley bread to keep me on my journey, and tell me what present I
shall bring you at the twelvemonth's end.'
"Scrub would have been angry with his brother for cutting so large a
slice, their store of barley-meal being low; but his mind was occupied
with what present would be most prudent to ask: at length a lucky
thought struck him.
"'Good master cuckoo,' said he, 'if a great traveler who sees all the
world like you, could know of any place where diamonds or pearls were to
be found, one of a tolerable size brought in your beak would help such
poor men as my brother and I to provide something better than barley
bread for your next entertainment.'
"'I know nothing of diamonds or pearls,' said the cuckoo; 'they are in
the hearts of rocks and the sands of rivers. My knowledge is only of
that which grows on the earth. But there are two trees hard by the well
that lies at the world's end--one of them is called the golden tree, for
its leaves are all of beaten gold: every winter they fall into the well
with a sound like scattered coin and I know not what becomes of them. As
for the other, it is always green like a laurel. Some call it the wise,
and some the merry tree. Its leaves never fall, but they that get one of
them keep a blithe heart in spite of all misfortunes, and can make
themselves as merry in a hut as in a palace.'
"'Good master cuckoo, bring me a leaf off that tree,' cried Spare.
"'Now, brother, don't be a fool!' said Scrub. 'Think of the leaves of
beaten gold! Dear master cuckoo, bring me one of them!'
"Before another word could be spoken, the cuckoo had flown out of the
open door, and was shouting its spring cry over moor and meadow. The
brothers were poorer than ever that year; nobody would send them a
single shoe to mend. The new cobbler said, in scorn, they should come to
be his apprentices; and Scrub and Spare would have left the village but
for their barley field, their cabbage garden, and a certain maid called
Fairfeather, whom both the cobblers had courted for seven years without
even knowing which she meant to favor.
"Sometimes Fairfeather seemed inclined to Scrub, sometimes she smiled on
Spare; but the brothers never disputed for that. They sowed their
barley, planted their cabbage, and now that their trade was gone, worked
in the rich villagers' fields to make out a scanty living. So the
seasons came and passed: spring, summer, harvest, and winter followed
each other as they have done from the beginning. At the end of the
latter, Scrub and Spare had grown so poor and ragged that Fairfeather
thought them beneath her notice. Old neighbors forgot to invite them to
wedding feasts or merrymaking; and they thought the cuckoo had forgotten
them too, when at daybreak, on the first of April, they heard a hard
beak knocking at their door, and a voice crying:
"'Cuckoo! cuckoo! Let me in with my presents.'
"Spare ran to open the door, and in came the cuckoo, carrying on one
side of his bill a golden leaf larger than that of any tree in the north
country; and in the other, one like that of the common laurel, only it
had a fresher green.
"'Here,' it said, giving the gold to Scrub and the green to Spare, 'it
is a long carriage from the world's end. Give me a slice of barley
bread, for I must tell the north country that the spring has come.'
"Scrub did not grudge the thickness of that slice, though it was cut
from their last loaf. So much gold had never been in the cobbler's hands
before, and he could not help exulting over his brother.
"'See the wisdom of my choice!' he said, holding up the large leaf of
gold. 'As for yours, as good might be plucked from any hedge. I wonder a
sensible bird would carry the like so far.'