BEES AND OTHER FELLOW-CREATURES
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“The dove laid some little sticks,
Then began to coo;
The gnat took his trumpet up
To play the day through;
The pie chattered soft and long--
But that she always does;
The bee did all he had to do,
And only said ‘Buzz.’”
When Jack at length opened his eyes, he found that it was night, for
the full moon was shining; but it was not at all a dark night, for he
could see distinctly some black birds, that looked like ravens. They
were sitting in a row on the edge of the boat.
Now that he had fairies in his pockets, he could understand bird-talk,
and he heard one of these ravens saying, “There is no meat so tender; I
wish I could pick their little eyes out.”
“Yes,” said another, “fairies are delicate eating indeed. We must speak
Jack fair if we want to get at them.” And she heaved up a deep sigh.
Jack lay still, and thought he had better pretend to be asleep; but
they soon noticed that his eyes were open, and one of them presently
walked up his leg and bowed, and asked if he was hungry.
Jack said, “No.”
“No more am I,” replied the raven, “not at all hungry.” Then she hopped
off his leg, and Jack sat up.
“And how are the sweet fairies that my young master is taking to their
home?” asked another of the ravens. “I hope they are safe in my young
masters pockets?”
Jack felt in his pockets. Yes, they were all safe; but he did not take
any of them out, lest the ravens should snatch at them.
“Eh?” continued the raven, pretending to listen; “did this dear young
gentleman say that the fairies were asleep?”
“It doesn’t amuse me to talk about fairies,” said Jack; “but if you
would explain some of the things in this country that I cannot make
out, I should be very glad.”
“What things?” asked the blackest of the ravens.
“Why,” said Jack, “I see a full moon lying down there among the
water-flags, and just going to set, and there is a half-moon overhead
plunging among those great grey clouds, and just this moment I saw a
thin crescent moon peeping out between the branches of that tree.”
“Well,” said all the ravens at once, “did the young master never see a
crescent moon in the men and women’s world?”
“Oh yes,” said Jack.
“Did he never see a full moon?” asked the ravens.
“Yes, of course,” said Jack; “but they are the same moon. I could never
see all three of them at the same time.”
The ravens were very much surprised at this, and one of them said:
“If my young master did not see the moons it must have been because he
didn’t look. Perhaps my young master slept in a room, and had only one
window; if so, he couldn’t see all the sky at once.”
“I tell you, Raven,” said Jack, laughing, “that I KNOW there is never
more than one moon in my country, and sometimes there is no moon at
all!”
Upon this all the ravens hung down their heads, and looked very much
ashamed; for there is nothing that birds hate so much as to be laughed
at, and they believed that Jack was saying this to mock them, and that
he knew what they had come for. So first one and then another hopped
to the other end of the boat and flew away, till at last there was only
one left, and she appeared to be out of spirits, and did not speak
again till he spoke to her.
“Raven,” said Jack, “there’s something very cold and slippery lying at
the bottom of the boat. I touched it just now, and I don’t like it at
all.”
“It’s a water-snake,” said the raven, and she stooped and picked up a
long thing with her beak, which she threw out, and then looked over.
“The water swarms with them, wicked, murderous creatures; they smell
the young fairies, and they want to eat them.”
Jack was so thrown off his guard that he snatched one fairy out, just
to make sure that it was safe. It was the one with the moustache; and,
alas! in one instant the raven flew at it, got it out of his hand, and
pecked off its head before it had time to wake or Jack to rescue it.
Then, as she slowly rose, she croaked, and said to Jack, “You’ll catch
it for this, my young master!” and she flew to the bough of a tree,
where she finished eating the fairy, and threw his little empty coat
into the river.
On this Jack began to cry bitterly, and to think what a foolish boy
he had been. He was the more sorry because he did not even know that
poor little fellow’s name. But he had heard the others calling by
name to their companions, and very grand names they were too. One was
Jovinian--he was a very fierce-looking gentleman; the other two were
Roxaletta and Mopsa.
Presently, however, Jack forgot to be unhappy, for two of the moons
went down, and then the sun rose, and he was delighted to find that
however many moons there might be, there was only one sun, even in the
country of the wonderful river.
So on and on they went; but the river was very wide, and the waves were
boisterous. On the right brink was a thick forest of trees, with such
heavy foliage that a little way off they looked like a bank, green and
smooth and steep; but as the light became clearer, Jack could see here
and there the great stems, and see creatures like foxes, wild boars,
and deer, come stealing down to drink in the river.
It was very hot here; not at all like the spring weather he had left
behind. And as the low sunbeams shone into Jack’s face he said hastily,
without thinking of what would occur, “I wish I might land among those
lovely glades on the left bank.”
No sooner said than the boat began to make for the left bank, and the
nearer they got towards it the more beautiful it became; but also the
more stormy were the reaches of water they had to traverse.
A lovely country indeed! It sloped gently down to the water’s edge,
and beautiful trees were scattered over it, soft mossy grass grew
everywhere, great old laburnum trees stretched their boughs down in
patches over the water, and higher up camellias, almost as large as
hawthorns, grew together and mingled their red and white flowers.
The country was not so open as a park, it was more like a half-cleared
woodland; but there was a wide space just where the boat was steering
for, that had no trees, only a few flowering shrubs. Here groups of
strange-looking people were bustling about, and there were shrill fifes
sounding, and drums.
Farther back he saw rows of booths or tents under the shade of the
trees.
In another place some people dressed like gipsies had made fires of
sticks just at the skirts of the woodland, and were boiling their pots.
Some of these had very gaudy tilted carts, hung all over with goods,
such as baskets, brushes, mats, little glasses, pottery, and beads.
It seemed to be a kind of fair, to which people had gathered from all
parts; but there was not one house to be seen. All the goods were
either hung upon the trees or collected in strange-looking tents.
The people were not all of the same race; indeed, he thought the only
human beings were the gipsies, for the folks who had tents were no
taller than himself.
[Illustration: “WHAT’LL YOU BUY?--WHAT’LL YOU BUY, SIR?”]
How hot it was that morning! and as the boat pushed itself into a
little creek, and made its way among the beds of yellow and purple
iris which skirted the brink, what a crowd of dragonflies and large
butterflies rose from them!
“Stay where you are!” cried Jack to the boat; and at that instant such
a splendid moth rose slowly, that he sprang on shore after it, and
quite forgot the fair and the people in his desire to follow it.
The moth settled on a great red honey-flower, and he stole up to look
at it. As large as a swallow, it floated on before him. Its wings were
nearly black, and they had spots of gold on them.
When it rose again Jack ran after it, till he found himself close to
the rows of tents where the brown people stood; and they began to
cry out to him, “What’ll you buy? what’ll you buy, sir?” and they
crowded about him, so that he soon lost sight of the moth, and forgot
everything else in his surprise at the booths.
They were full of splendid things--clocks and musical boxes, strange
china ornaments, embroidered slippers, red caps, and many kinds of
splendid silks and small carpets. In other booths were swords and
dirks, glittering with jewels; and the chatter of the people when they
talked together was not in a language that Jack could understand.
Some of the booths were square, and evidently made of common canvas,
for when you went into them and the sun shone you could distinctly see
the threads.
But scattered a little farther on in groups were some round tents,
which were far more curious. They were open on all sides, and consisted
only of a thick canopy overhead, which was supported by one beautiful
round pillar in the middle.
Outside, the canopy was white or brownish; but when Jack stood under
these tents, he saw that they were lined with splendid flutings of
brown or pink silk: what looked like silk, at least, for it was
impossible to be sure whether these were real tents or gigantic
mushrooms.
They varied in size, also, as mushrooms do, and in shape: some were
large enough for twenty people to stand under them, and had flat tops
with a brown lining; others had dome-shaped roofs; these were lined
with pink, and would only shelter six or seven.
The people who sold in these tents were as strange as their neighbours;
each had a little high cap on his head, in shape just like a bee-hive,
and it was made of straw, and had a little hole in front. In fact, Jack
very soon saw bees flying in and out, and it was evident that these
people had their honey made on the premises. They were chiefly selling
country produce. They had cheeses so large as to reach to their waists,
and the women trundled them along as boys do their hoops. They sold
a great many kinds of seed too, in wooden bowls, and cakes and good
things to eat, such as gilt gingerbread. Jack bought some of this, and
found it very nice indeed. But when he took out his money to pay for
it, the little man looked rather strangely at it, and turned it over
with an air of disgust. Then Jack saw him hand it to his wife, who also
seemed to dislike it; and presently Jack observed that they followed
him about, first on one side, then on the other. At last, the little
woman slipped her hand into his pocket, and Jack, putting his hand in
directly, found his sixpence had been returned.
“Why, you’ve given me back my money!” he said.
The little woman put her hands behind her. “I do not like it,” she
said; “it’s dirty; at least, it’s not new.”
“No, it’s not new,” said Jack, a good deal surprised, “but it is a good
sixpence.”
“The bees don’t like it,” continued the little woman. “They like things
to be neat and new, and that sixpence is bent.”
“What shall I give you then?” said Jack.
The good little woman laughed and blushed. “This young gentleman has a
beautiful whistle round his neck,” she observed, politely, but did not
ask for it.
Jack had a dog-whistle, so he took it off and gave it to her.
“Thank you for the bees,” she said. “They love to be called home when
we’ve collected flowers for them.”
So she made a pretty little curtsey, and went away to her customers.
There were some very strange creatures also, about the same height as
Jack, who had no tents, and seemed there to buy, not to sell. Yet they
looked poorer than the other folks and they were also very cross and
discontented; nothing pleased them. Their clothes were made of moss,
and their mantles of feathers; and they talked in a queer whistling
tone of voice, and carried their skinny little children on their backs
and on their shoulders.
They were treated with great respect by the people in the tents; and
when Jack asked his friend to whom he had given the whistle what they
were, and where they got so much money as they had, she replied that
they lived over the hills, and were afraid to come in their best
clothes. They were rich and powerful at home, and they came shabbily
dressed, and behaved humbly, lest their enemies should envy them. It
was very dangerous, she said, to fairies to be envied.
Jack wanted to listen to their strange whistling talk, but he could
not for the noise and cheerful chattering of the brown folks, and more
still for the screaming and talking of parrots.
Among the goods were hundreds of splendid gilt cages, which were hung
by long gold chains from the trees. Each cage contained a parrot and
his mate, and they all seemed to be very unhappy indeed.
The parrot could talk, and they kept screaming to the discontented
women to buy things for them, and trying very hard to attract attention.
One old parrot made himself quite conspicuous by these efforts. He
flung himself against the wires of his cage, he squalled, he screamed,
he knocked the floor with his beak, till Jack and one of the customers
came running up to see what was the matter.
“What do you make such a fuss for?” cried the discontented woman.
“You’ve set your cage swinging with knocking yourself about; and what
good does that do? I cannot break the spell and open it for you.”
“I know that,” answered the parrot, sobbing; “but it hurts my feelings
so that you should take no notice of me now that I have come down in
the world.”
“Yes,” said the parrot’s mate, “it hurts our feelings.”
“I haven’t forgotten you,” answered the woman, more crossly than ever;
“I was buying a measure of maize for you when you began to make such a
noise.”
Jack thought this was the queerest conversation he had ever heard in
his life, and he was still more surprised when the bird answered:
“I would much rather you would buy me a pocket-handkerchief. Here we
are, shut up, without a chance of getting out, and with nobody to pity
us; and we can’t even have the comfort of crying, because we’ve got
nothing to wipe our eyes with.”
“But at least,” replied the woman, “you CAN cry now if you please, and
when you had your other face you could not.”
“Buy me a handkerchief,” sobbed the parrot.
“I can’t afford both,” whined the cross woman, “and I’ve paid now for
the maize.” So saying, she went back to the tent to fetch her present
to the parrots, and as their cage was still swinging Jack put out his
hand to steady it for them, and the instant he did so they became
perfectly silent, and all the other parrots on that tree, who had been
flinging themselves about in their cages, left off screaming and became
silent too.
The old parrot looked very cunning. His cage hung by such a long gold
chain that it was just on a level with Jack’s face, and so many odd
things had happened that day that it did not seem more odd than usual
to hear him say, in a tone of great astonishment:
“It’s a BOY, if ever there was one!”
“Yes,” said Jack, “I’m a boy.”
“You won’t go yet, will you?” said the parrot.
“No, don’t,” said a great many other parrots. Jack agreed to stay a
little while, upon which they all thanked him.
“I had no notion you were a boy till you touched my cage,” said the old
parrot.
Jack did not know how this could have told him, so he only answered,
“Indeed!”
“I’m a fairy,” observed the parrot, in a confidential tone. “We are
imprisoned here by our enemies the gipsies.”
“So we are,” answered a chorus of other parrots.
“I’m sorry for that,” replied Jack. “I’m friends with the fairies.”
“Don’t tell,” said the parrot, drawing a film over his eyes, and
pretending to be asleep. At that moment his friend in the moss
petticoat and feather cloak came up with a little measure of maize, and
poured it into the cage.
“Here, neighbour,” she said; “I must say good-bye now, for the gipsy is
coming this way, and I want to buy some of her goods.”
“Well, thank you,” answered the parrot, sobbing again; “but I could
have wished it had been a pocket-handkerchief.”
“I’ll lend you my handkerchief,” said Jack. “Here!” And he drew it out
and pushed it between the wires.
The parrot and his wife were in a great hurry to get Jack’s
handkerchief. They pulled it in very hastily; but instead of using it
they rolled it up into a ball, and the parrot-wife tucked it under her
wing.
“It makes me tremble all over,” said she, “to think of such good luck.”
“I say!” observed the parrot to Jack, “I know all about it now. You’ve
got some of my people in your pockets--not of my own tribe, but
fairies.”
By this Jack was sure that the parrot really was a fairy himself, and
he listened to what he had to say the more attentively.
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