“Heigho-ho!” yawned Harry, who had dropped in one evening, and curled
himself up in his favorite nook, the chimney-corner. “I wish books had
never been invented, or schools either, for that matter. I’ve been
digging away at one of Æsop’s fables for the last two hours, and I can’t
make any sense out of it at all. It’s a lot of stuff about some doves
and hawks that got to fighting; but whether the doves eat up the hawks
or not, how’s a fellow going to find out? And I got stuck in my algebra,
too, and I sha’n’t have a single decent lesson to-morrow, and then
old Williams’ll give me a lecture and a zero, and—well, a fellow gets
disgusted with that sort of thing for a steady diet. Oh, I tell you I’ll
be glad when once I’m out of school, and the pesky business is done with!
What’s the use of it, anyhow? I wish I didn’t have to go another day.”
“But the time would be apt to hang pretty heavily on your hands, wouldn’t
it?”
“Oh, I’d find plenty to do to fill up the time, never you fear! Now all
these splendid days, along back, when I ought to have been down at the
rink, skating, and there I had to sit in that stupid old schoolroom,
moping over a desk! It makes me mad to think of it. But I came over—I
got so tired studying. I thought maybe you’d have some story or other to
tell, Lieutenant.”
“A story; what is there you haven’t heard, I wonder? I’m afraid my stock
of stories has about run out. Let me see, though,—have you ever heard
about Castle Marvel?”
“A castle! that’s the kind I like—about castles! no, I never heard it.”
“Well, this was a famous castle that stood upon a high mountain, and that
people sometimes went to see. Among the rest, there went from a certain
city a company of youths. Now, their route lay across a sunny plain that
was like a very fairy-land; flowers covered it with every hue of the
rainbow, and over these hovered clouds of golden-winged butterflies; and
in the shady groves zephyrs sang and birds caroled as never sang zephyrs
or caroled birds anywhere else.
“And, so, many of the youths tarried, saying, ‘It is pleasant here; let
us gather roses;’ or, ‘Let us chase butterflies;’ or, ‘Let us lie down
under the wide-spreading branches, and listen to the music overhead.’
The others, hastening onward, reached, at length, the foot of the
mountain, and began to ascend. But to climb this mountain was by no means
an easy task; for, while in some places it was very steep, in others a
perpendicular and seemingly impassable wall would confront the weary
traveler; and there were chasms, too, which must be crossed; but over
most of these bridges had been built; and where the way was steep and
slippery steps had been hewn among the rocks; and up the granite walls
places had been cut for hands and feet; and all this had been done by
travelers who had previously ascended—aye, with untold hardships, and
often at the risk of their lives. But now, in climbing, so had the way
been opened before them, these youths met with no peril, only with labor
and weariness, here and there. And yet, ever, as they toiled upward,
would one and another turn back, discouraged, to rejoin the comrades
below, declaring that the sight of the castle was not worth so much pains.
“Now to these pleasure-seekers in the flowery meadows after a time
returned the venturesome few who had succeeded in gaining the summit, and
they were greeted with loud cries of astonishment—for behold, their faces
shone wondrously, flooded as if with light, and they seemed like beings
from another world.
“‘Tell us, what have you seen, or what have you heard, that your
countenances should be thus altered?’ demanded the curious throng.
[Illustration: At last, as he emerges from the shadows of a dark defile
between high mountains.—PAGE 156.]
“‘Ah, friends,’ replied the others, ‘would that we might tell you
the half of what we have seen, the half of what we have heard. Truly
marvelous is this castle which we have visited, and beyond the power of
words to describe. We may, indeed, relate to you how, from its windows,
we beheld the fair earth, from pole to pole, spread out before us in
new and undreamed-of beauty; how we found secret stairways which led
us to the burning heart of this same earth; how, through mysterious
passage-ways, we were guided to the silent and strangely-peopled valleys
of the sea; how, by tower and turret, we mounted to dizzy heights, from
whence we could peer in among the stars, and catch a glimpse of the glory
lying beyond; how all the way, from lowest foundation-stone to loftiest
pinnacle, they who went up before us had carved inscriptions, revealing
in what manner the world has fared—even from its creation; how, passing
to and fro, our questions were answered, our doubts were quieted, and
we were filled with such delight as is only known to them who go up
thither—this much, and more we may relate, and yet but a faint idea
will you have of that mighty structure. Oh, friends, so vast it is, so
wide, so high,—so deep down extend its massive walls, that, though one
should wander a lifetime within its gates, still many portions would be
unknown to him; so free and open to all it is, that whoever will may
abide there, continually feasted and royally entertained; so magnificent
it is, that whether you go up or down, whether you follow corridors that
lead on, and ever on, or loiter in spacious treasure-halls, golden is the
ceiling, crystal is the pavement, riches and splendor meet you at every
turn, and you tread upon diamonds which are yours but for the picking up;
and what is most marvelous about the castle is this—the more of these
rare jewels that are gathered and carried away, the more remain.’
“Then the idlers, seeing their companions laden with precious gems,
sparkling in the sunlight, could not doubt the truthfulness of this
report; and they said: ‘Let us go up also, to be enriched, and to see
those wonderful sights.’ But when they began to climb they discovered
that their strength had departed, and that their eyes were dimmed so that
they could not find the path; and they now first became aware of how the
years had flown while they had been lingering among the pleasant fields,
and that in the feebleness of age they were no longer able to mount
upward. And they sat down and wept with regret, and nevermore ceased
sighing, because of the years they had wasted below.”
“There’s a _Hæc fabula docet_ to that story, I suspect,” said Harry,
good-naturedly, after staring awhile at the fire. “But I’ll forgive you,
as it’s the only one of that sort I ever heard you tell.”