UNCLE DAVID'S NONSENSICAL STORY ABOUT
GIANTS AND FAIRIES.
"Pie-crust and pastry-crust, that was the wall;
The windows were made of black-puddings and white,
And slated with pancakes--you ne'er saw the like!"
In the days of yore, children were not all such clever, good sensible
people as they are now! Lessons were then considered rather a plague,
sugar-plums were still in demand--holidays continued yet in fashion--and
toys were not then made to teach mathematics, nor story-books to give
instruction in chemistry and navigation. These were very strange times,
and there existed at that period, a very idle, greedy, naughty boy, such
as we never hear of in the present day. His papa and mama were----no
matter who,----and he lived, no matter where. His name was Master
No-book, and he seemed to think his eyes were made for nothing but to
stare out of the windows, and his mouth for no other purpose but to eat.
This young gentleman hated lessons like mustard, both of which brought
tears into his eyes, and during school-hours, he sat gazing at his
books, pretending to be busy, while his mind wandered away to wish
impatiently for his dinner, and to consider where he could get the
nicest pies, pastry, ices, and jellies, while he smacked his lips at
the very thoughts of them. I think he must have been first cousin to
Peter Grey, but that is not perfectly certain.
Whenever Master No-book spoke, it was always to ask for something, and
you might continually hear him say, in a whining tone of voice, "Papa!
may I take this piece of cake? Aunt Sarah! will you give me an apple?
Mama! do send me the whole of that plum-pudding!" Indeed, very
frequently when he did not get permission to gormandize, this naughty
glutton helped himself without leave. Even his dreams were like his
waking hours, for he had often a horrible night-mare about lessons,
thinking that he was smothered with Greek Lexicons, or pelted out of the
school with a shower of English Grammars, while one night, he fancied
himself sitting down to devour an enormous plum-cake, and that all on a
sudden it became transformed into a Latin Dictionary!
One afternoon, Master No-book, having played truant all day from school,
was lolling on his mama's best sofa in the drawing-room, with his
leather boots tucked up on the satin cushions, and nothing to do but to
suck a few oranges, and nothing to think of but how much sugar to put
upon them, when suddenly an event took place which filled him with
astonishment.
A sound of soft music stole into the room, becoming louder and louder
the longer he listened, till at length, in a few moments afterwards, a
large hole burst open in the wall of his room, and there stepped into
his presence, two magnificent fairies, just arrived from their castle in
the air, to pay him a visit. They had travelled all the way on purpose
to have some conversation with Master No-book, and immediately
introduced themselves in a very ceremonious manner.
The fairy Do-nothing was gorgeously dressed with a wreath of flaming gas
round her head, a robe of gold tissue, a necklace of rubies, and a
bouquet in her hand, of glittering diamonds. Her cheeks were rouged to
the very eyes,--her teeth were set in gold, and her hair was of a most
brilliant purple; in short, so fine and fashionable looking a fairy
never was seen in a drawing-room before.
The fairy Teach-all, who followed next, was simply dressed in white
muslin, with bunches of natural flowers in her light brown hair, and she
carried in her hand a few neat small books, which Master No-book looked
at with a shudder of aversion.
The two fairies now informed him, that they very often invited large
parties of children, to spend some time at their palaces, but as they
lived in quite an opposite direction, it was necessary for their young
guests to choose which it would be best to visit first; therefore now
they had come to inquire of Master No-book, whom he thought it would be
most agreeable to accompany on the present occasion.
"In my house," said the fairy Teach-all, speaking with a very sweet
smile, and a soft, pleasing voice, "you shall be taught to find pleasure
in every sort of exertion, for I delight in activity and diligence. My
young friends rise at seven every morning, and amuse themselves with
working in a beautiful garden of flowers,--rearing whatever fruit they
wish to eat,--visiting among the poor,--associating pleasantly
together,--studying the arts and sciences,--and learning to know the
world in which they live, and to fulfil the purposes for which they have
been brought into it. In short, all our amusements tend to some useful
object, either for our own improvement or the good of others, and you
will grow wiser, better, and happier every day you remain in the Palace
of Knowledge."
"But in Castle Needless where I live," interrupted the fairy Do-nothing,
rudely pushing her companion aside, with an angry contemptuous look, "we
never think of exerting ourselves for anything. You may put your head in
your pocket, and your hands in your sides as long as you choose to
stay. No one is ever even asked a question, that he may be spared the
trouble of answering. We lead the most fashionable life that can be
imagined, for nobody speaks to anybody! Each of my visitors is quite an
exclusive, and sits with his back to as many of the company as possible,
in the most comfortable arm-chair that can be imagined. There, if you
are only so good as to take the trouble of wishing for anything, it is
yours, without even turning an eye round to look where it comes from.
Dresses are provided of the most magnificent kind, which go on of
themselves, without your having the smallest annoyance with either
buttons or strings,--games which you can play without an effort of
thought,--and dishes dressed by a French cook, smoking hot and hot under
your nose, from morning till night,--while any rain we have, is either
made of cherry brandy, lemonade, or lavender water,--and in winter it
generally snows iced-punch for an hour during the forenoon."
Nobody need be told which fairy Master No-book preferred; and quite
charmed at his own good fortune in receiving so agreeable an invitation,
he eagerly gave his hand to the splendid new acquaintance, who promised
him so much pleasure and ease, and gladly proceeded, in a carriage lined
with velvet, stuffed with downy pillows, and drawn by milk-white swans,
to that magnificent residence Castle Needless, which was lighted by a
thousand windows during the day, and by a million of lamps every night.
Here Master No-book enjoyed a constant holiday and a constant feast,
while a beautiful lady, covered with jewels, was ready to tell him
stories from morning till night, and servants waited to pick up his
playthings if they fell, or to draw out his purse or his
pocket-handkerchief when he wished to use them.
Thus Master No-book lay dozing for hours and days on rich embroidered
cushions, never stirring from his place, but admiring the view of trees
covered with the richest burned almonds, grottoes of sugar-candy, a jet
d'eau of champagne, a wide sea which tasted of sugar instead of salt,
and a bright clear pond, filled with gold-fish, that let themselves be
caught whenever he pleased. Nothing could be more complete, and yet,
very strange to say, Master No-book did not seem particularly happy!
This appears exceedingly unreasonable, when so much trouble was taken to
please him; but the truth is, that every day he became more fretful and
peevish. No sweetmeats were worth the trouble of eating, nothing was
pleasant to play at, and in the end he wished it were possible to sleep
all day, as well as all night.
Not a hundred miles from the fairy Do-nothing's palace, there lived a
most cruel monster called the giant Snap-'em-up, who looked, when he
stood up, like the tall steeple of a great church, raising his head so
high, that he could peep over the loftiest mountains, and was obliged to
climb up a ladder to comb his own hair.
Every morning regularly, this prodigiously great giant walked round the
world before breakfast for an appetite, after which, he made tea in a
large lake, used the sea as a slop-basin, and boiled his kettle on Mount
Vesuvius. He lived in great style, and his dinners were most
magnificent, consisting very often of an elephant roasted whole, ostrich
patties, a tiger smothered in onions, stewed lions, and whale soup; but
for a side-dish his greatest favourite consisted of little boys, as fat
as possible, fried in crumbs of bread, with plenty of pepper and salt.
No children were so well fed, or in such good condition for eating, as
those in the fairy Do-nothing's garden, who was a very particular friend
of the great Snap-'em-up's, and who sometimes laughingly said she would
give him a license, and call her own garden his "preserve," because she
allowed him to help himself, whenever he pleased, to as many of her
visitors as he chose, without taking the trouble even to count them,
and in return for such extreme civility, the giant very frequently
invited her to dinner.
Snap-'em-up's favourite sport was, to see how many brace of little boys
he could bag in a morning; so in passing along the streets, he peeped
into all the drawing-rooms without having occasion to get upon tiptoe,
and picked up every young gentleman who was idly looking out of the
windows, and even a few occasionally who were playing truant from
school, but busy children seemed always somehow quite out of his reach.
One day, when Master No-book felt even more lazy, more idle, and more
miserable than ever, he lay beside a perfect mountain of toys and cakes,
wondering what to wish for next, and hating the very sight of everything
and everybody. At last he gave so loud a yawn of weariness and disgust,
that his jaw very nearly fell out of joint, and then he sighed so
deeply, that the giant Snap-'em-up heard the sound as he passed along
the road after breakfast, and instantly stepped into the garden, with
his glass at his eye, to see what was the matter. Immediately on
observing a large, fat, over-grown boy, as round as a dumpling, lying on
a bed of roses, he gave a cry of delight, followed by a gigantic peal of
laughter, which was heard three miles off, and picking up Master No-book
between his finger and his thumb, with a pinch that very nearly broke
his ribs, he carried him rapidly towards his own castle, while the fairy
Do-nothing laughingly shook her head as he passed, saying, "That little
man does me great credit!--he has only been fed for a week, and is as
fat already as a prize ox! What a dainty morsel he will be! When do you
dine to-day, in case I should have time to look in upon you?"
On reaching home, the giant immediately hung up Master No-book by the
hair of his head, on a prodigious hook in the larder, having first taken
some large lumps of nasty suet, forcing them down his throat to make him
become still fatter, and then stirring the fire, that he might be
almost melted with heat, to make his liver grow larger. On a shelf quite
near, Master No-book perceived the dead bodies of six other boys, whom
he remembered to have seen fattening in the fairy Do-nothing's garden,
while he recollected how some of them had rejoiced at the thoughts of
leading a long, useless, idle life, with no one to please but
themselves.
The enormous cook now seized hold of Master No-book, brandishing her
knife, with an aspect of horrible determination, intending to kill him,
while he took the trouble of screaming and kicking in the most desperate
manner, when the giant turned gravely round and said, that as pigs were
considered a much greater dainty when whipped to death than killed in
any other way, he meant to see whether children might not be improved by
it also; therefore she might leave that great hog of a boy till he had
time to try the experiment, especially as his own appetite would be
improved by the exercise. This was a dreadful prospect for the unhappy
prisoner; but meantime it prolonged his life a few hours, as he was
immediately hung up again in the larder, and left to himself. There, in
torture of mind and body,--like a fish upon a hook,--the wretched boy
began at last to reflect seriously upon his former ways, and to consider
what a happy home he might have had, if he could only have been
satisfied with business and pleasure succeeding each other, like day and
night, while lessons might have come in, as a pleasant sauce to his
play-hours, and his play-hours as a sauce to his lessons.
In the midst of many reflections, which were all very sensible, though
rather too late. Master No-book's attention became attracted by the
sound of many voices laughing, talking, and singing, which caused him to
turn his eyes in a new direction, when, for the first time, he observed
that the fairy Teach-all's garden lay upon a beautiful sloping bank not
far off. There a crowd of merry, noisy, rosy-cheeked boys, were busily
employed, and seemed happier than the day was long; while poor Master
No-book watched them during his own miserable hours, envying the
enjoyment with which they raked the flower-borders, gathered the fruit,
carried baskets of vegetables to the poor, worked with carpenters'
tools, drew pictures, shot with bows and arrows, played at cricket, and
then sat in the sunny arbours learning their tasks, or talking agreeably
together, till at length, a dinner-bell having been rung, the whole
party sat merrily down with hearty appetites, and cheerful good-humour,
to an entertainment of plain roast meat and pudding, where the fairy
Teach-all presided herself, and helped her guests moderately, to as much
as was good for each.
Large tears rolled down the cheeks of Master No-book while watching this
scene; and remembering that if he had known what was best for him, he
might have been as happy as the happiest of these excellent boys,
instead of suffering ennui and weariness, as he had done at the fairy
Do-nothing's, ending in a miserable death; but his attention was soon
after most alarmingly roused by hearing the giant Snap-'em-up again in
conversation with his cook, who said, that if he wished for a good large
dish of scolloped children at dinner, it would be necessary to catch a
few more, as those he had already provided would scarcely be a mouthful.
As the giant kept very fashionable hours, and always waited dinner for
himself till nine o'clock, there was still plenty of time; so, with a
loud grumble about the trouble, he seized a large basket in his hand,
and set off at a rapid pace towards the fairy Teach-all's garden. It was
very seldom that Snap-'em-up ventured to think of foraging in this
direction, as he had never once succeeded in carrying off a single
captive from the enclosure, it was so well fortified and so bravely
defended; but on this occasion, being desperately hungry, he felt as
bold as a lion, and walked, with outstretched hands, straight towards
the fairy Teach-all's dinner-table, taking such prodigious strides, that
he seemed almost as if he would trample on himself.
A cry of consternation arose the instant this tremendous giant appeared;
and as usual on such occasions, when he had made the same attempt
before, a dreadful battle took place. Fifty active little boys bravely
flew upon the enemy, armed with their dinner knives, and looked like a
nest of hornets, stinging him in every direction, till he roared with
pain, and would have run away, but the fairy Teach-all, seeing his
intention, rushed forward with the carving knife, and brandishing it
high over her head, she most courageously stabbed him to the heart!
If a great mountain had fallen in the earth, it would have seemed like
nothing in comparison of the giant Snap-'em-up, who crushed two or three
houses to powder beneath him, and upset several fine monuments that were
to have made people remembered for ever; but all this would have seemed
scarcely worth mentioning, had it not been for a still greater event
which occurred on the occasion, no less than the death of the fairy
Do-nothing, who had been indolently looking on at this great battle,
without taking the trouble to interfere, or even to care who was
victorious, but, being also lazy about running away, when the giant
fell, his sword came with so violent a stroke on her head, that she
instantly expired.
Thus, luckily for the whole world, the fairy Teach-all got possession of
immense property, which she proceeded without delay to make the best use
of in her power.
In the first place, however, she lost no time in liberating Master
No-book from his hook in the larder, and gave him a lecture on activity,
moderation, and good conduct, which he never afterwards forgot; and it
was astonishing to see the change that took place immediately in his
whole thoughts and actions. From this very hour, Master No-book became
the most diligent, active, happy boy in the fairy Teach-all's garden;
and on returning home a month afterwards, he astonished all the masters
at school by his extraordinary reformation. The most difficult lessons
were a pleasure to him,--he scarcely ever stirred without a book in his
hand,--never lay on a sofa again,--would scarcely even sit on a chair
with a back to it, but preferred a three-legged stool,--detested
holidays,--never thought any exertion a trouble,--preferred climbing
over the top of a hill to creeping round the bottom,--always ate the
plainest food in very small quantities,--joined a Temperance
Society!-and never tasted a morsel till he had worked very hard and got
an appetite.
Not long after this, an old uncle, who had formerly been ashamed of
Master No-book's indolence and gluttony, became so pleased at the
wonderful change, that, on his death, he left him a magnificent estate,
desiring that he should take his name; therefore, instead of being any
longer one of the No-book family, he is now called Sir Timothy
Bluestocking,--a pattern to the whole country round, for the good he
does to every one, and especially for his extraordinary activity,
appearing as if he could do twenty things at once. Though generally very
good-natured and agreeable, Sir Timothy is occasionally observed in a
violent passion, laying about him with his walking-stick in the most
terrific manner, and beating little boys within an inch of their lives;
but on inquiry, it invariably appears that he has found them out to be
lazy, idle, or greedy, for all the industrious boys in the parish are
sent to get employment from him, while he assures them that they are far
happier breaking stones on the road, than if they were sitting idly in a
drawing-room with nothing to do. Sir Timothy cares very little for
poetry in general; but the following are his favourite verses, which he
has placed over the chimney-piece at a school that he built for the
poor, and every scholar is obliged, the very day he begins his
education, to learn them:--
Some people complain they have nothing to do,
And time passes slowly away;
They saunter about with no object in view,
And long for the end of the day.
In vain are the trifles and toys they desire,
For nothing they truly enjoy;
Of trifles, and toys, and amusements they tire,
For want of some useful employ.
Although for transgression the ground was accursed,
Yet gratefully man must allow,
'Twas really a blessing which doom'd him at first,
To live by the sweat of his brow.
Nursery Rhymes.
"Thank you, a hundred times over, uncle David!" said Harry, when the
story was finished. "I shall take care not to be found hanging any day
on a hook in the larder! Certainly, Frank, you must have spent a month
with the good fairy; and I hope she will some day invite me to be made a
scholar of too, for Laura and I still belong to the No-book family."
"It is very important. Harry, to choose the best course from the
beginning," observed Lady Harriet. "Good or bad habits grow stronger and
stronger every minute, as if an additional string were tied on daily, to
keep us in the road where we walked the day before; so those who mistake
the path of duty at first, find hourly increasing difficulty in turning
round."
"But grandmama!" said Frank, "you have put up some finger-posts to
direct us right; and whenever I see 'no passage this way,' we shall
wheel about directly."
"As Mrs. Crabtree has not tapped at the door yet, I shall describe the
progress of a wise and a foolish man, to see which Harry and you would
prefer copying," replied Lady Harriet, smiling. "The fool begins, when
he is young, with hating lessons, lying long in bed, and spending all
his money on trash. Any books he will consent to read, are never about
what is true or important; but he wastes all his time and thoughts on
silly stories that never could have happened. Thus he neglects to learn
what was done, and thought, by all the great and good men who really
lived in former times, while even his Bible, if he has one, grows dusty
on the shelf. After so bad a beginning, he grows up with no useful or
interesting knowledge; therefore his whole talk is to describe his own
horses, his own dogs, his own guns, and his own exploits; boasting of
what a high wall his horse can leap over, the number of little birds he
can shoot in a day, and how many bottles of wine he can swallow without
tumbling under the table. Thus, 'glorying in his shame,' he thinks
himself a most wonderful person, not knowing that men are born to do
much better things than merely to find selfish pleasure and amusement
for themselves. Presently he grows old, gouty, and infirm--no longer
able to do such prodigious achievements; therefore now his great delight
is, to sit with his feet upon the fender, at a club all day, telling
what a famous rider, shooter, and drinker, he was long ago; but nobody
cares to hear such old stories; therefore he is called a 'proser,' and
every person avoids him. It is no wonder a man talks about himself, if
he has never read or thought about any one else. But at length his
precious time has all been wasted, and his last hour comes, during which
he can have nothing to look back upon but a life of folly and guilt. He
sees no one around who loves him, or will weep over his grave; and when
he looks forward, it is towards an eternal world which he has never
prepared to enter, and of which he knows nothing."
"What a terrible picture, grandmama!" said Frank, rather gravely. "I
hope there are not many people like that, or it would be very sad to
meet with them. Now pray let us have a pleasanter description of the
sort of persons you would like Harry and me to become."
"The first foundation of all is, as you already know, Frank, to pray
that you may be put in the right course and kept in it, for of ourselves
we are so sinful and weak that we can do no good thing. Then feeling a
full trust in the Divine assistance, you must begin and end every day
with studying your Bible, not merely reading it, but carefully
endeavouring to understand and obey what it contains. Our leisure should
be bestowed on reading of wiser and better people than ourselves, which
will keep us humble while it instructs our understandings, and thus we
shall be fitted to associate with persons whose society is even better
than books. Christians who are enlightened and sanctified in the
knowledge of all good things, will show us an example of carefully using
our time, which is the most valuable of all earthly possessions. If we
waste our money, we may perhaps get more--if we lose our health, it may
be restored--but time squandered on folly, must hereafter be answered
for, and can never be regained. Whatever be your station in life, waste
none of your thoughts upon fancying how much better you might have acted
in some other person's place, but see what duties belong to that station
in which you live, and do what that requires with activity and
diligence. When we are called to give an account of our stewardship, let
us not have to confess at the last that we wasted our one talent,
because we wished to have been trusted with ten; but let us prepare to
render up what was given to us, with joy and thankfulness, perfectly
satisfied that the best place in life is where God appoints, and where
He will guide us to a safe and peaceful end."
"Yes!" added Major Graham. "You have two eyes in your minds as well as
in your bodies. With one of these we see all that is good or agreeable
in our lot--with the other we see all that is unpleasant or
disappointing, and you may generally choose which eye to keep open. Some
of my friends always peevishly look at the troubles and vexations they
endure, but they might turn them into good, by considering that every
circumstance is sent from the same hand, with the same merciful
purpose--to make us better now and happier hereafter."
"Well! my dear children," said Lady Harriet, "it is time now for
retiring to Bedfordshire; so good night."
"If you please, grandmama! not yet," asked Harry, anxiously. "Give us
five minutes longer!"
"And then in the morning you will want to remain five minutes more in
bed. That is the way people learn to keep such dreadfully late hours at
last, Harry! I knew one very rich old gentleman formerly, who always
wished to sit up a little later every night, and to get up a little
later in the morning, till at length, he ended by hiring a set of
servants to rise at nine in the evening, as he did himself, and to
remain in bed all day."
"People should regulate their sleep very conscientiously," added Major
Graham, "so as to waste as little time as possible; and our good king
George III. set us the example, for he remarked, that six hours in the
night were quite enough for a man--seven hours for a woman, and eight
for a fool. Or perhaps, Harry, you might like to live by Sir William
Jones' rule:
'Six hours to read, to soothing slumber seven,
Ten to the world allot--and all to Heaven.'"