The Town with Nobody in it
[Illustration]
“‘Master,’ quoth the auld hound,
‘Where will ye go?’
‘Over moss, over muir,
To court my new jo.’
‘Master, though the night be merk,
I’se follow through the snow.
“‘Court her, master, court her,
So shall ye do weel;
But and ben she’ll guide the house,
I’se get milk and meal.
Ye’se get lilting while she sits
With her rock and reel.’
“‘For, oh! she has a sweet tongue,
And een that look down,
A gold girdle for her waist,
And a purple gown.
She has a good word forbye
Fra a’ folk in the town.’”
Soon after sunrise they came to a great city, and it was perfectly
still. There were grand towers and terraces, wharves, too, and a large
market, but there was nobody anywhere to be seen. Jack thought that
might be because it was so early in the morning; and when the boat ran
itself up against a wooden wharf and stopped, he jumped ashore, for he
thought this must be the end of his journey. A delightful town it was,
if only there had been any people in it! The market-place was full of
stalls, on which were spread toys, baskets, fruit, butter, vegetables,
and all the other things that are usually sold in a market.
Jack walked about in it. Then he looked in at the open doors of the
houses, and at last, finding that they were all empty, he walked
into one, looked at the rooms, examined the picture-books, rang the
bells, and set the musical-boxes going. Then, after he had shouted a
good deal, and tried in vain to make some one hear, he went back to
the edge of the river where his boat was lying, and the water was so
delightfully clear and calm, that he thought he would bathe. So he
took off his clothes, and folding them very carefully, so as not to
hurt the fairies, laid them down beside a haycock, and went in, and
ran about and paddled for a long time--much longer than there was any
occasion for; but then he had nothing to do.
When at last he had finished, he ran to the haycock, and began to dress
himself; but he could not find his stockings, and after looking about
for some time he was obliged to put on his clothes without them, and
he was going to put his boots on his bare feet, when, walking to the
other side of the haycock, he saw a little old woman about as large as
himself. She had a pair of spectacles on, and she was knitting.
She looked so sweet tempered that Jack asked her if she knew anything
about his stockings.
“It will be time enough to ask for them when you have had your
breakfast,” said she. “Sit down. Welcome to our town. How do you like
it?”
“I should like it very much indeed,” said Jack, “if there was anybody
in it.”
“I’m glad of that,” said the woman. “You’ve seen a good deal of it; but
it pleases me to find that you are a very honest boy. You did not take
anything at all. I am honest too.”
“Yes,” said Jack, “of course you are.”
“And as I am pleased with you for being honest,” continued the little
woman, “I shall give you some breakfast out of my basket.” So she took
out a saucer full of honey, a roll of bread, and a cup of milk.
“Thank you,” said Jack, “but I am not a beggar-boy; I have got a
half-crown, a shilling, a sixpence, and two pence; so I can buy this
breakfast of you, if you like. You look very poor.”
“Do I?” said the little woman, softly; and she went on knitting, and
Jack began to eat the breakfast.
“I wonder what has become of my stockings,” said Jack.
“You will never see them any more,” said the old woman. “I threw them
into the river, and they floated away.”
“Why did you?” asked Jack.
The little woman took no notice; but presently she had finished a
beautiful pair of stockings, and she handed them to Jack, and said:
“Is that like the pair you lost?”
“Oh no,” said Jack, “these are much more beautiful stockings than mine.”
“Do you like them as well?” asked the fairy woman.
“I like them much better,” said Jack, putting them on. “How clever you
are!”
“Would you like to wear these,” said the woman, “instead of yours?”
She gave Jack such a strange look when she said this, that he was
afraid to take them, and answered:
“I shouldn’t like to wear them if you think I had better not.”
“Well,” she answered, “I am very honest, as I told you; and therefore I
am obliged to say that if I were you I would not wear those stockings
on any account.”
“Why not?” said Jack; for she looked so sweet tempered that he could
not help trusting her.
“Why not?” repeated the fairy; “why, because when you have those
stockings on, your feet belong to me.”
“Oh!” said Jack. “Well, if you think that matters, I’ll take them off
again. Do you think it matters?”
“Yes,” said the fairy woman; “it matters, because I am a slave, and my
master can make me do whatever he pleases, for I am completely in his
power. So, if he found out that I had knitted those stockings for you,
he would make me order you to walk into his mill--the mill which grinds
the corn for the town; and there you would have to grind and grind till
I got free again.”
When Jack heard this, he pulled off the beautiful stockings, and laid
them on the old woman’s lap. Upon this she burst out crying, as if her
heart would break.
“If my fairies that I have in my pocket would only wake,” said Jack,
“I would fight your master; for if he is no bigger than you are,
perhaps I could beat him, and get you away.”
“No, Jack,” said the little woman; “that would be of no use. The only
thing you could do would be to buy me; for my cruel master has said
that if ever I am late again he shall sell me in the slave-market to
the brown people, who work underground. And, though I am dreadfully
afraid of my master, I mean to be late to-day, in hopes (as you
are kind, and as you have some money) that you will come to the
slave-market and buy me. Can you buy me, Jack, to be your slave?”
“I don’t want a slave,” said Jack; “and, besides, I have hardly any
money to buy you with.”
“But it is real money,” said the fairy woman, “not like what my master
has. His money has to be made every week, for if there comes a hot day
it cracks, so it never has time to look old, as your half-crown does;
and that is how we know the real money, for we cannot imitate anything
that is old. Oh, now, now it is twelve o’clock! now I am late again!
and though I said I would do it, I am so frightened!”
So saying, the little woman ran off towards the town, wringing her
hands, and Jack ran beside her.
“How am I to find your master?” he said.
“O Jack, buy me! buy me!” cried the fairy woman. “You will find me in
the slave-market. Bid high for me. Go back and put your boots on, and
bid high.”
Now Jack had nothing on his feet, so he left the poor little woman to
run into the town by herself, and went back to put his boots on. They
were very uncomfortable, as he had no stockings; but he did not much
mind that, and he counted his money. There was the half-crown that
his grandmamma had given him on his birthday, there was a shilling, a
sixpence, and two pence, besides a silver four-penny-piece which he had
forgotten. He then marched into the town; and now it was quite full of
people--all of them little men and women about his own height. They
thought he was somebody of consequence, and they called out to him to
buy their goods. And he bought some stockings, and said, “What I want
to buy now is a slave.”
So they showed him the way to the slave-market, and there whole rows of
odd-looking little people were sitting, while in front of them stood
the slaves.
Now Jack had observed as he came along how very disrespectful the dogs
of that town were to the people. They had a habit of going up to them
and smelling at their legs, and even gnawing their feet as they sat
before the little tables selling their wares; and what made this more
surprising was that the people did not always seem to find out when
they were being gnawed. But the moment the dogs saw Jack they came
and fawned on him, and two old hounds followed him all the way to the
slave-market; and when he took a seat one of them laid down at his
feet, and said, “Master, set your handsome feet on my back, that they
may be out of the dust.”
“Don’t be afraid of him,” said the other hound; “he won’t gnaw your
feet. He knows well enough that they are real ones.”
“Are the other people’s feet not real?” asked Jack.
“Of course not,” said the hound. “They had a feud long ago with the
fairies, and they all went one night into a great cornfield which
belonged to these enemies of theirs, intending to steal the corn. So
they made themselves invisible, as they are always obliged to do till
twelve o’clock at noon; but before morning dawn, the wheat being quite
ripe, down came the fairies with their sickles, surrounded the field,
and cut the corn. So all their legs of course got cut off with it, for
when they are invisible they cannot stir. Ever since that they have
been obliged to make their legs of wood.”
While the hound was telling this story Jack looked about, but he did
not see one slave who was in the least like his poor little friend,
and he was beginning to be afraid that he should not find her, when he
heard two people talking together.
“Good day!” said one. “So you have sold that good-for-nothing slave of
yours?”
“Yes,” answered a very cross-looking old man. “She was late again
this morning, and came to me crying and praying to be forgiven; but
I was determined to make an example of her, so I sold her at once to
Clink-of-the-Hole, and he has just driven her away to work in his mine.”
Jack, on hearing this, whispered to the hound at his feet, “If you will
guide me to Clink’s hole, you shall be my dog.”
“Master, I will do my best,” answered the hound; and he stole softly
out of the market, Jack following him.
[Illustration: “Master, I will do my best,” answered the hound.]