"Now we'll have a dinner-party," cried the Brownie; and squatted down

like a Turk, crossing his queer little legs, and sticking his elbows

upon his knees, in a way that nobody but a Brownie could manage. "Sit

in a ring! sit in a ring! and we'll see who can eat the fastest."

The children obeyed. How many cherries they devoured, and how fast

they did it, passes my capacity of telling. I only hope they were not

ill next day, and that all the cherry-stones they swallowed by mistake

did not disagree with them. But perhaps nothing does disagree with one

when one dines with a Brownie. They ate so much, laughing in equal

proportion, that they had quite forgotten the Gardener--when, all of a

sudden, they heard him clicking angrily the orchard gate, and talking

to himself as he walked through.

"That nasty dog! It wasn't Boxer, after all. A nice joke! to find him

quietly asleep in his kennel after having hunted him, as I thought,

from one end of the garden to the other! Now for the cherries and the

children--bless us! where are the children? And the cherries? Why, the

tree is as bare as a blackthorn in February! The starlings have been

at it, after all. Oh, dear! oh, dear!"

"Oh, dear! oh, dear!" echoed a voice from behind the tree, followed by

shouts of mocking laughter. Not from the children--they sat as demure

as possible, all in a ring, with their hands before them, and in the

center the huge basket of cherries, piled as full as it could possibly

hold. But the Brownie had disappeared.

"You naughty brats, I'll have you punished!" cried the Gardener,

furious at the laughter, for he never laughed himself. But as there

was nothing wrong, the cherries being gathered--a very large crop--and

the ladder found safe in its place--it was difficult to say what had

been the harm done and who had done it.

So he went growling back to the house, carrying the cherries to the

mistress, who coaxed him into good temper again, as she sometimes did;

bidding also the children to behave well to him, since he was an old

man, and not really bad--only cross. As for the little folks, she had

not the slightest intention of punishing them; and, as for the

Brownie, it was impossible to catch him. So nobody was punished at

all.

THE OUPHE [Footnote: _Ouphe_, pronounced "oof," is an

old-fashioned word for goblin or elf.] OF THE WOOD

By Jean Ingelow

"An Ouphe!" perhaps you exclaim, "and pray what might that be?"

An Ouphe, fair questioner,--though you may never have heard of

him,--was a creature well known (by hearsay, at least) to your

great-great-grandmother. It was currently reported that every forest

had one within its precincts, who ruled over the woodmen, and exacted

tribute from them in the shape of little blocks of wood ready hewn for

the fire of his underground palace,--such blocks as are bought at

shops in these degenerate days, and called "kindling."

It was said that he had a silver axe, with which he marked those trees

that he did not object to have cut down; moreover, he was supposed to

possess great riches, and to appear but seldom above ground, and when

he did to look like an old man in all respects but one, which was that

he always carried some green ash-keys about with him which he could

not conceal, and by which he might be known.

Do I hear you say that you don't believe he ever existed?

It matters not at all to my story whether you do or not. He certainly

does not exist now. The Commissioners of Woods and Forests have much

to answer for, if it was they who put an end to his reign; but I do

not think they did; it is more likely that the spelling-book used in

woodland districts disagreed with his constitution.

After this short preface please to listen while I tell you that once

in a little black-timbered cottage, at the skirts of a wood, a young

woman sat before the fire rocking her baby, and, as she did so,

building a castle in the air: "What a good thing it would be," she

thought to herself, "if we were rich!"

It had been a bright day, but the evening was chilly; and, as she

watched the glowing logs that were blazing on her hearth, she wished

that all the lighted part of them would turn to gold.

She was very much in the habit--this little wife--of building castles

in the air, particularly when she had nothing else to do, or her

husband was late in coming home to his supper. Just as she was

thinking how late he was there was a tap at the door, and an old man

walked in, who said:

"Mistress, will you give a poor man a warm at your fire?"

"And welcome," said the young woman, setting him a chair.

So he sat down as close to the fire as he could, and spread out his

hands to the flames.

He had a little knapsack on his back, and the young woman did not

doubt that he was an old soldier.

"Maybe you are used to the hot countries," she said.

"All countries are much the same to me," replied the stranger. "I see

nothing to find fault with in this one. You have fine hawthorn-trees

hereabouts; just now they are as white as snow; and then you have a

noble wood behind you."

"Ah, you may well say that," said the young woman. "It is a noble wood

to us; it gets us bread. My husband works in it."

"And a fine sheet of water there is in it," continued the old man. "As

I sat by it to-day it was pretty to see those cranes, with red legs,

stepping from leaf to leaf of the water-lilies so lightly."

As he spoke he looked rather wistfully at a little saucepan which

stood upon the hearth.

"Why, I shouldn't wonder if you were hungry," said the young woman,

laying her baby in the cradle, and spreading a cloth on the round

table. "My husband will be home soon, and if you like to stay and sup

with him and me, you will be kindly welcome."

The old man's eyes sparkled when she said this, and he looked so very

old and seemed so weak that she pitied him. He turned a little aside

from the fire, and watched her while she set a brown loaf on the

table, and fried a few slices of bacon; but all was ready, and the

kettle had been boiling some time before there were any signs of the

husband's return.

"I never knew Will to be so late before," said the stranger. "Perhaps

he is carrying his logs to the saw-pits."

"Will!" exclaimed the wife. "What, you know my husband, then? I

thought you were a stranger in these parts."

"Oh, I have been past this place several times," said the old man,

looking rather confused; "and so, of course, I have heard of your

husband. Nobody's stroke in the wood is so regular and strong as his."

"And I can tell you he is the handiest man at home," began his wife.

"Ah, ah," said the old man, smiling at her eagerness; "and here he

comes, if I am not mistaken."

At that moment the woodman entered.

"Will," said his wife, as she took his bill-book from him, and hung up

his hat, "here's an old soldier come to sup with us, my dear." And as

she spoke, she gave her husband a gentle push toward the old man, and

made a sign that he should speak to him.

"Kindly welcome, master," said the woodman. "Wife, I'm hungry; let's

to supper."

The wife turned some potatoes out of the little saucepan, set a jug of

beer on the table, and they all began to sup. The best of everything

was offered by the wife to the stranger. The husband, after looking

earnestly at him for a few minutes, kept silence.

"And where might you be going to lodge tonight, good man, if I'm not

too bold?" asked she.

The old man heaved a deep sigh, and said he supposed he must lie out

in the forest.

"Well, that would be a great pity," remarked his kind hostess. "No

wonder your bones ache if you have no better shelter." As she said

this, she looked appealingly at her husband.

"My wife, I'm thinking, would like to offer you a bed," said the

woodman; "at least, if you don't mind sleeping in this clean kitchen,

I think that, we could toss you up something of that sort that you

need not disdain."

"Disdain, indeed!" said the wife. "Why, Will, when there's not a

tighter cottage than ours in all the wood, and with a curtain, as we

have, and a brick floor, and everything so good about us--"

The husband laughed; the old man looked on with a twinkle in his eye.

"I'm sure I shall be humbly grateful," said he.

Accordingly, when supper was over, they made him up a bed on the

floor, and spread clean sheets upon it of the young wife's own

spinning, and heaped several fresh logs on the fire. Then they wished

the stranger good night, and crept up the ladder to their own snug

little chamber.

"Disdain, indeed!" laughed the wife, as soon as they shut the door.

"Why, Will, how could you say it? I should like to see him disdain me

and mine. It isn't often, I'll engage to say, that he sleeps in such a

well-furnished kitchen."

The husband said nothing, but secretly laughed to himself.

"What are you laughing at, Will?" said his wife, as she put out the

candle.

"Why, you soft little thing," answered the woodman, "didn't you see

that bunch of green ash-keys in his cap; and don't you know that

nobody would dare to wear them but the Ouphe of the Wood? I saw him

cutting those very keys for himself as I passed to the sawmill this

morning, and I knew him again directly, though he has disguised

himself as an old man."

"Bless us!" exclaimed the little wife; "is the Wood Ouphe in our

cottage? How frightened I am! I wish I hadn't put the candle out."

The husband laughed more and more.

"Will," said his wife, in a solemn voice, "I wonder how you dare

laugh, and that powerful creature under the very bed where you lie!"

"And she to be so pitiful over him," said the woodman, laughing till

the floor shook under him, "and to talk and boast of our house, and

insist on helping him to more potatoes, when he has a palace of his

own, and heaps of riches! Oh, dear! oh, dear!"

"Don't laugh, Will," said the wife, "and I'll make you the most

beautiful firmity [Footnote: _Firmity_: generally written frumenty;

wheat boiled in milk with sugar and fruit.] you ever tasted to-morrow.

Don't let him hear you laughing."

"Why, he comes for no harm," said the woodman. "I've never cut down

any trees that he had not marked, and I've always laid his toll of the

wood, neatly cut up, beside his foot-path, so I am not afraid.

Besides, don't you know that he always pays where he lodges, and very

handsomely, too?"

"Pays, does he?" said the wife. "Well, but he is an awful creature to

have so near one. I would much rather he had really been an old

soldier. I hope he is not looking after my baby; he shall not have

him, let him offer ever so much."

The more the wife talked, the more the husband laughed at her fears,

till at length he fell asleep, whilst she lay awake, thinking and

thinking, till by degrees she forgot her fears, and began to wonder

what they might expect by way of reward. Hours appeared to pass away

during these thoughts. At length, to her great surprise, while it was

still quite dark, her husband called to her from below:

"Come down, Kitty; only come down to see what the Ouphe has left us."

As quickly as possible Kitty started up and dressed herself, and ran

down the ladder, and then she saw her husband kneeling on the floor

over the knapsack, which the Ouphe had left behind him. Kitty rushed

to the spot, and saw the knapsack bursting open with gold coins, which

were rolling out over the brick floor. Here was good fortune! She

began to pick them up, and count them into her apron. The more she

gathered, the faster they rolled, till she left off counting, out of

breath with joy and surprise.

"What shall we do with all this money?" said the delighted woodman.

They consulted for some time. At last they decided to bury it in the

garden, all but twenty pieces, which they would spend directly.

Accordingly they dug a hole and carefully hid the rest of the money,

and then the woodman went to the town, and soon returned laden with

the things they had agreed upon as desirable possessions; namely, a

leg of mutton, two bottles of wine, a necklace for Kitty, some tea and

sugar, a grand velvet waistcoat, a silver watch, a large clock, a red

silk cloak, and a hat and feather for the baby, a quilted petticoat, a

great many muffins and crumpets, a rattle, and two new pairs of shoes.

How enchanted they both were! Kitty cooked the nice things, and they

dressed themselves in the finery, and sat down to a very good dinner.

But, alas! the woodman drank so much of the wine that he soon got

quite tipsy, and began to dance and sing. Kitty was very much shocked;

but when he proposed to dig up some more of the gold, and go to market

for some more wine and some more blue velvet waistcoats, she

remonstrated very strongly. Such was the change that had come over

this loving couple, that they presently began to quarrel, and from

words the woodman soon got to blows, and, after beating his little

wife, lay down on the floor and fell fast asleep, while she sat crying

in a corner.

The next day they both felt very miserable, and the woodman had such

a terrible headache that he could neither eat nor work; but the day

after, being pretty well again, he dug up some more gold and went to

town, where he bought such quantities of fine clothes and furniture

and so many good things to eat, that in the end he was obliged to buy

a wagon to bring them home in, and great was the delight of his wife

when she saw him coming home on the top of it, driving the four gray

horses himself.

They soon began to unpack the goods and lay them out on the grass, for

the cottage was far too small to hold them.

"There are some red silk curtains with gold rods," said the woodman.

"And grand indeed they are!" exclaimed his wife, spreading them over

the onion bed.

"And here's a great looking-glass," continued the woodman, setting one

up against the outside of the cottage, for it would not go in the

door.

So they went on handing down the things, and it took nearly the whole

afternoon to empty the wagon. No wonder, when it contained, among

other things, a coral and bells for the baby, and five very large

tea-trays adorned with handsome pictures of impossible scenery, two

large sofas covered with green damask, three bonnets trimmed with

feathers and flowers, two glass tumblers for them to drink out of,--for

Kitty had decided that mugs were very vulgar things,--six books bound

in handsome red morocco, a mahogany table, a large tin saucepan, a

spit and silver waiter, a blue coat with gilt buttons, a yellow

waistcoat, some pictures, a dozen bottles of wine, a quarter of lamb,

cakes, tarts, pies, ale, porter, gin, silk stockings, blue and red and

white shoes, lace, ham, mirrors, three clocks, a four-post bedstead,

and a bag of sugar candy.

These articles filled the cottage and garden; the wagon stood outside

the paling. Though the little kitchen was very much encumbered with

furniture, they contrived to make a fire in it; and, having eaten a

sumptuous dinner, they drank each other's health, using the new

tumblers to their great satisfaction.

"All these things remind me that we must have another house built,"

said Kitty.

"You may do just as you please about that, my dear," replied her

husband, with a bottle of wine in his hand.

"My dear," said Kitty, "how vulgar you are! Why don't you drink out of

one of our new tumblers, like a gentleman?"

The woodman refused, and said it was much more handy to drink it out

of the bottle.

"Handy, indeed!" retorted Kitty; "yes, and by that means none will be

left for me."

Thereupon another quarrel ensued, and the woodman, being by this time

quite tipsy, beat his wife again. The next day they went and got

numbers of workmen to build them a new house in their garden. It was

quite astonishing even to Kitty, who did not know much about building,

to see how quick these workmen were; in one week the house was ready.

But in the meantime the woodman, who had very often been tipsy, felt

so unwell that he could not look after them; therefore it is not

surprising that they stole a great many of his fine things while he

lay smoking on the green damask sofa which stood on the carrot bed.

Those articles which the workmen did not steal the rain and dust

spoilt; but that they thought did not much matter, for still more than

half the gold was left; so they soon furnished the new house. And now

Kitty had a servant, and used to sit every morning on a couch dressed

in silks and jewels till dinner-time, when the most delicious hot

beefsteaks and sausage pudding or roast goose were served up, with

more sweet pies, fritters, tarts, and cheese-cakes than they could

possibly eat. As for the baby, he had three elegant cots, in which he

was put to sleep by turns; he was allowed to tear his picture-books as

often as he pleased, and to eat so many sugar-plums and macaroons that

they often made him quite ill.

The woodman looked very pale and miserable, though he often said what

a fine thing it was to be rich. He never thought of going to his work,

and used generally to sit in the kitchen till dinner was ready,

watching the spit. Kitty wished she could see him looking as well and

cheerful as in old days, though she felt naturally proud that her

husband should always be dressed like a gentleman, namely, in a blue

coat, red waistcoat, and top-boots.

He and Kitty could never agree as to what should be done with the rest

of the money; in fact, no one would have known them for the same

people; they quarrelled almost every day, and lost nearly all their

love for one another. Kitty often cried herself to sleep--a thing she

had never done when they were poor; she thought it was very strange

that she should be a lady, and yet not be happy. Every morning when

the woodman was sober they invented new plans for making themselves

happy, yet, strange to say, none of them succeeded, and matters grew

worse and worse. At last Kitty thought she should be happy if she had

a coach; so she went to the place where the knapsack was buried, and

began to dig; but the garden was so trodden down that she could not

dig deep enough, and soon got tired of trying. At last she called the

servant, and told her the secret as to where the money was, promising

her a gold piece if she could dig it up. The servant dug with all her

strength, and with a great deal of trouble they got the knapsack up,

and Kitty found that not many gold pieces were left.

However, she resolved to have the coach, so she took them and went to

the town, where she bought a yellow chariot, with a most beautiful

coat of arms upon it, and two cream-colored horses to draw it.

In the meantime the maid ran to the magistrates, and told them she had

discovered something very dreadful, which was, that her mistress had

nothing to do but dig in the ground and that she could make money

come--coined money: "which," said the maid, "is a very terrible thing,

and it proves that she must be a witch."

The mayor and aldermen were very much shocked, for witches were

commonly believed in in those days; and when they heard that Kitty had

dug up money that very morning, and bought a yellow coach with it,

they decided that the matter must be investigated.

When Kitty drove up to her own door, she saw the mayor and aldermen

standing in the kitchen waiting for her.

She demanded what they wanted, and they said they were come in the

king's name to search the house.

Kitty immediately ran up-stairs and took the baby out of his cradle,

lest any of them should steal him, which, of course, seemed a very

probable thing for them to do. Then she went to look for her husband,

who, shocking to relate, was quite tipsy, quarrelling and arguing with

the mayor, and she actually saw him box an alderman's ears.

"The thing is proved," said the indignant mayor; "this woman is

certainly a witch."

Kitty was very much bewildered at this; but how much more when she saw

her husband seize the mayor--yes, the very mayor himself--and shake

him so hard that he actually shook his head off, and it rolled under

the dresser! "If I had not seen this with my own eyes," said Kitty, "I

could not have believed it--even now it does not seem at all real."

All the aldermen wrung their hands.

"Murder! murder!" cried the maid.

"Yes," said the aldermen, "this woman and her husband must immediately

be put to death, and the baby must be taken from them and made a

slave."

In vain Kitty fell on her knees; the proofs of their guilt were so

plain that there was no hope for mercy; and they were just going to be

led out to execution when--why, then she opened her eyes, and saw that

she was lying in bed in her own little chamber where she had lived and

been so happy; her baby beside her in his wicker [Footnote: _Wicker_:

made of willow twigs like a basket.] cradle was crowing and sucking

his fingers.

"So, then, I have never been rich, after all," said Kitty; "and it was

all only a dream! I thought it was very strange at the time that a

man's head should roll off."

And she heaved a deep sigh, and put her hand to her face, which was

wet with the tears she had shed when she thought that she and her

husband were going to be executed.

"I am very glad, then, my husband is not a drunken man; and he does

_not_ beat me; but he goes to work every day, and I am as happy as a

queen."

Just then she heard her husband's good-tempered voice whistling as he

went down the ladder.

"Kitty, Kitty," said he, "come, get up, my little woman; it's later

than usual, and our good visitor will want his breakfast."

"Oh, Will, Will, do come here," answered the wife; and presently her

husband came up again, dressed in his fustian jacket, and looking

quite healthy and good-tempered--not at all like the pale man in the

blue coat, who sat watching the meat while it roasted.

"Oh, Will, I have had such a frightful dream," said Kitty, and she

began to cry; "we are not going to quarrel and hate each other, are

we?"

"Why, what a silly little thing thou art to cry about a dream," said

the woodman, smiling. "No, we are not going to quarrel as I know of.

Come, Kitty, remember the Ouphe."

"Oh, yes, yes, I remember," said Kitty, and she made haste to dress

herself and come down.

"Good morning, mistress; how have you slept?" said the Ouphe, in a

gentle voice, to her.

"Not so well as I could have wished, sir," said Kitty.

The Ouphe smiled. "_I_ slept very well," he said. "The supper was

good, and kindly given, without any thought of reward."

"And that is the certain truth," interrupted Kitty: "I never had the

least thought what you were till my husband told me."

The woodman had gone out to cut some fresh cresses for his guest's

breakfast.

"I am sorry, mistress," said the Ouphe, "that you slept uneasily--my

race are said sometimes by their presence to affect the dreams of you

mortals, Where is my knapsack? Shall I leave it behind me in payment

of bed and board?"

"Oh, no, no, I pray you don't," said the little wife, blushing and

stepping back; "you are kindly welcome to all you have had, I'm sure:

don't repay us so, sir."

"What, mistress, and why not?" asked the Ouphe, smiling. "It is as

full of gold pieces as it can hold, and I shall never miss them."

"No, I entreat you, do not," said Kitty, "and do not offer it to my

husband, for maybe he has not been warned as I have."

Just then the woodman came in.

"I have been thanking your wife for my good entertainment," said the

Ouphe, "and if there is anything in reason that I can give either of

you--"

"Will, we do very well as we are," said his wife, going up to him and

looking anxiously in his face.

"I don't deny," said the woodman, thoughtfully, "that there are one or

two things I should like my wife to have, but somehow I've not been

able to get them for her yet."

"What are they?" asked the Ouphe.

"One is a spinning-wheel," answered the woodman; "she used to spin a

good deal when she was at home with her mother."

"She shall have a spinning-wheel," replied the Ouphe; "and is there

nothing else, my good host?"

"Well," said the woodman, frankly, "since you are so obliging, we

should like a hive of bees."

"The bees you shall have also; and now, good morning both, and a

thousand thanks to you."

So saying, he took his leave, and no pressing could make him stay to

breakfast.

"Well," thought Kitty, when she had had a little time for reflection,

"a spinning-wheel is just what I wanted; but if people had told me

this time yesterday morning that I should be offered a knapsack full

of money, and should refuse it, I could not possibly have believed

them!"

THE PRINCE'S DREAM

By Jean Ingelow

If we may credit the fable, there is a tower in the midst of a great

Asiatic plain, wherein is confined a prince who was placed there in

his earliest infancy, with many slaves and attendants, and all the

luxuries that are compatible with imprisonment.

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