since they left their homes years ago. But now the heart had been taken
out of the day.
They sat down to a listless breakfast. McGill came in.
“She’s still fighting. She’s got to win or lose pretty soon,” he said.
They did not go to the mine that morning. It was the first Christmas
the Little Bear Mine had not run.
At ten o’clock McGill came in to report.
“Boys, I can’t stand it any longer. She’s wearing her strength away
fretting for that cat. I’m not sure that a cat would really quiet her,
and I hardly believe any living man can make it to Telluride, but I’m
going to try.”
“No, you’re not,” said the Canadian. “She needs you here. Besides,
you’re worn out. I’ll get the cat.”
“We’ll draw for it,” said the men.
“No use. Gus and I are the only two good enough on skis to have a
fighting chance.”
“Gus! That brute hasn’t got the heart of a mine mule! He wouldn’t go at
the point of a gun! Where is he? I haven’t seen him since last night,”
stormed the foreman.
Silently the men watched the Canadian prepare for the trail. They were
rough men, who held life cheaply, but not one of them believed a man
had a chance to make the trail and return safely.
Suddenly the door opened and Gus staggered in. He tried to cross the
room, but his worn-out muscles refused to act, and he sank to the floor.
The men sprang to him, laid him on a cot, pulled off his furs, and
unbuttoned his coat. Underneath the coat was an old sack. One of
the men gave it a shake. Out on the floor rolled a half-frozen,
half-smothered kitten. It told the story; it told them that Gus was a
hero.
The next morning when consciousness returned to Gus, the men carried
his cot into Barbara’s room. On the bed he could see a little figure,
frail and worn, but sleeping the restful sleep of exhaustion. One
little arm was outside the covers, hugging up closely a fluff of a
kitten. Beside the bed, he saw the mother, smiling happily through her
tears, for she knew that Barbara would get well.
XXIV
PATTY AND HER PITCHER
AT the end of the story the Story Lady paused a moment, and then said:
“We will now leave the cold and snowy world and come back to our warm
and pleasant Fairyland and to the story of Patty and her Pitcher.”
“This is the delightful surprise I spoke of,” said the Story Queen to
Mary Frances. “Just watch the magic circle.”
Mary Frances noticed a large circle drawn on the carpet, about which
all the Story People were grouped.
“You are going to hear the story and see it acted at the same time. The
Story Lady will control the action with her voice.”
_In the Magic Circle_
Mary Frances sat listening entranced to the voice of the Story Lady. It
flowed on and on like sweet music, now rising, now falling, filling the
ear with charming sound, and the imagination with a perfect picture of
the story she was telling.
The story began:
“The most charming little girl in her native village was Patty--”
At the words a little girl, Patty, not much bigger than Tiny of
Tinytown sprang up in the circle with her little home and the village
all about her.
“The pigeons flew down--to coo around her--”
And they flew down and cooed.
“The chickens fed from her hand--”
And the chickens came running.
“The cat rolled over her feet and purred--”
And the cat did it.
“The steady old dog, Bluff, cut his liveliest capers--”
And Bluff did it.
As the story fell from the Story Lady’s lips there was instant
obedience in the village of the magic circle. The characters obeyed the
voice instantly, just as the feet of children dancing obey the music of
the piano. So the story flowed on--the acting kept pace with the voice
and did everything the words said.
Mary Frances sat spellbound, for she had never seen anything so
beautiful as the way in which that wonderful voice brought every player
and every action to her ears and eyes at the same time.
This is the story. If you keep your eyes on the magic circle you can
see it as Mary Frances saw it--through the veil of words.
* * * * *
_The Wonderful Pitcher_
The most charming little girl in her native village, was Patty; at
least, so all the neighbors said, and what everybody says ought to have
some truth in it.
Patty deserved their kind words, for she loved everybody and
everything, and in return she was loved by all who knew her. The
pigeons flew down from their little house to coo around her; the
chickens fed from her hand; the cat rolled over her feet and purred
with pleasure; and even the steady old dog, Bluff, put himself to the
trouble of cutting his liveliest capers to attract her attention.
Patty was always busy, too, about something. When she was no higher
than your knee, she used to bustle about and do little things in the
handiest manner; and as for sewing, she was the pattern child at the
dame’s school, where her sampler was hung upon the wall, as a guide to
the other children.
She lived in a little cottage with her parents, who were now old and
very poor, and depended upon their little daughter for many things
which they were too feeble to do for themselves. One of her daily
duties was to go to the spring for water.
She would dip her pitcher into the clear, bright liquid, and sing her
sweet little songs, with a voice that made every one who passed that
way stop to listen with delight.
Upon one of her journeys to the spring, occurred the great event of her
life, of which I am now about to tell you.
Patty had filled her pitcher at the spring, and was carrying it home
with some little difficulty, for it was quite heavy when filled. When
almost in sight of her cottage, she saw a poor, old, travel-worn woman
sitting by the wayside, as if overcome by the fatigue of a long journey.
She sat upon the trunk of a fallen tree; her face was as brown as a
nut, and covered with a complete network of wrinkles, while her dim
eyes looked dull and sunken. At her back was tied a bundle which seemed
quite large enough for a strong man to carry.
She watched Patty as she came near, and cast eager eyes upon the water
in the pitcher, which seemed so cool and tempting; and after looking at
Patty’s rosy, good-natured face, she asked for some water.
“Dear little child,” said she in a feeble voice, “give me a drink from
your pitcher, for I am very old, and faint, and weary.”
“To be sure, mother, and welcome,” said Patty, sweetly, as she raised
up the pitcher so that the old woman could drink.
Long and eagerly did the poor creature drink of the delicious water; so
long, indeed, that Patty was much surprised at her extreme thirst.
“Thank you, my darling. Heaven will reward you for your kindness,” said
the old woman.
“Oh, you are quite welcome, mother,” said Patty again, shouldering her
pitcher, and going cheerfully on her way, singing in the lightness
of her heart, at the pleasure of having relieved the poor woman’s
distress.
But she had not gone far before she was overtaken by a large dog, who
seemed to be bound upon a long journey; for he was covered with dust,
his eyes were bloodshot, and his parched tongue hung from his mouth to
catch the cool air.
“Poor fellow,” said Patty, in a kind voice.
The dog turned around at the words, and stopped to look at her. She
held out her hand, and he came nearer. She then set down her pitcher
to caress him, but he strove eagerly to reach the pitcher which his
instinct told him contained water. Patty understood his wants, and held
the pitcher to the poor dog so that he could drink with comfort.
He lapped and lapped, until she began to think he would never leave
off. At last, he looked up into her face, and licked her hand in
gratitude; then, after bounding and gamboling about to show how
refreshed he was, trotted on his way.
Patty now looked into her pitcher and found that it was more than half
empty, so that she must take all her journey over again; for it was of
no use going home with a pitcher but half full.
As she rose, she saw some hare-bells by the side of the road which
appeared to be in a very drooping, dusty state, so she at once poured
over them all the water that remained in the pitcher.
Then, with her pitcher once more upon her shoulder, she turned her
steps again toward the spring, without a single regret at the double
work she had to do. She traveled blithely on over the dusty road,
cheering the way with her sweet songs, and soon arrived once more at
the margin of the spring.
Resting for a few minutes in the shade, she gazed sleepily at the
bubbling water, and all kinds of fanciful thoughts passed through her
mind. She was just dropping off into a little nap, when she thought she
heard some one call her by name. It was a sweet little voice, and Patty
could hardly distinguish it from the tinkling of the spring.
She rose quickly to her feet, and looked in every direction for the
owner of the voice, but in vain; till suddenly casting eyes upon the
spring, she saw, to her amazement, a dear little face looking up at her
from the water; and presently there stood before her one of the most
beautiful little creatures Patty had ever seen.
She balanced lightly upon the surface of the rippling water, where she
seemed to stand with the same ease as Patty did upon the land, and was
really no higher than the pitcher.
“So, Patty,” said she, “so you have come back again, my dear?”
“Yes, Madam,” replied Patty, who, to say the truth, felt somewhat
alarmed; “yes, Madam, because I----”
“I know all about it,” said the fairy, for it was a fairy, you know;
“and it is because I do know, that you see me here, for I am now come
to make you a useful present.”
“A present!” said Patty, with a pleased surprise.
“Yes, and such a one,” replied the fairy, “as will be a lasting reward
for your goodness of heart toward others, and your little care for
yourself. You blush because you do not remember the many kind things
you have done, and I am the more pleased to see that you think I am
giving you unmerited praise.
“That you think so little of all the kind actions which are the
ornament of your life, assures me of the purity of your motives; for it
is our duty to forget the good we do to others, and to remember only
the good that others do to us. You have always done so, my dear Patty.
“To reward you, I will place a spell upon your pitcher, which will
always be full of water or milk, as you may desire. It will also be
able to move and work whenever you wish it, and will always prove your
firm friend in any trouble.
“If it should, by any mishap, be parted from you, it will easily, by
its magic powers, be able to find you; and in whatever position you
may happen to be, you will always find it by your side, as adviser and
friend; so put your pitcher on the ground, and look into it.”
[Illustration: SHE THEN TOUCHED THE PITCHER WITH HER WAND]
Patty did so, and to her surprise, saw the bright water gradually
rising until the pitcher was full to the brim. When she saw it was full
she tried to lift it, but found it too heavy for her strength.
“You need not trouble yourself to carry it,” said the fairy, smiling;
“it will save you all further trouble on that score.”
She then touched the pitcher with her wand, when to Patty’s greater
surprise, two very well-formed legs grew out of the bottom, and a pair
of neat little arms appeared at the top of the vessel, which, as soon
as it was firm on its legs, made a very polite bow to Patty as its
future mistress.
“Now, Patty,” said the fairy, “follow your pitcher, and you cannot
possibly go wrong;” and as she finished speaking, she gradually faded
away, and at last broke into a thousand sparkling drops, which mingled
with the bubbling stream, and were soon borne away on its bosom.
Patty rubbed her eyes as if to make sure that she was awake; for the
whole thing seemed to her like a wonderful dream. She coughed aloud,
and at last began to pinch herself until she found it painful, when she
finally concluded that she must be really awake. But more convincing
than all, there stood the saucy brown pitcher firmly upon its sturdy
green legs, with its toes turned out in the politest manner of the day,
and its little fists planted in its sides in a style that was very
business-like indeed.
“Quite ready to start, mistress,” said a little voice that made Patty
jump, for the fairy had not told her that the pitcher could speak; but
screwing up courage, she said: “Come on, then, Pitcher,” and set the
example by starting off into a run.
And didn’t the pitcher follow her in good earnest! Indeed, it ran so
fast that it soon overtook her, and not only that, but it ran beyond
her, long before she got half-way home.
But the most surprising thing was that, although it hopped along with
the most wonderful strides and jumps over the rough places in its path,
it did not spill one single drop of water in its progress. This puzzled
Patty, who, with her utmost care, could never avoid wetting her dress
whenever she had tried to run with the pitcher, even half full.
“What will people think when we get into the village?” thought Patty,
as she looked at her strange companion; “I’m sure they will be
frightened, and what will father and mother say when they see what I
have brought home with me?”
“Do not trouble yourself about that,” said the pitcher, who seemed to
know her thoughts; “your parents will soon get accustomed to me, and be
much pleased when they see how handy I am, for you do not yet know half
of my good qualities.”
As he was speaking, they came to a very high stile. “Shall I help you
over?” said Patty, thinking of his short legs.
“Oh, dear, no,” said the pitcher; “see how little I need it.” And,
so saying, he skipped over the stile in the most graceful manner. As
he did so, a dog who was passing put his tail between his legs, and
after two or three very weak barks, scurried off in evident fright and
surprise.
A man was at the same time coming along the road with a slow and
pompous walk--for he was the squire of the village--who, upon seeing
the strange pitcher clear the stile, was rendered almost speechless
with amazement; but as soon as he saw the little legs speeding toward
him, he uttered one loud exclamation of terror, and fled!
His hat flew one way, his cane another, and his cloak mounted into the
air like wings. Being very fat, however, he had not gone far before his
legs failed him, and he lay kicking in a furze bush, roaring for help.
Patty could not help laughing at the sight, but the pitcher, trotting
on with the greatest unconcern, soon reached the cottage door to the
astonishment of Patty’s parents.
The pitcher walked quietly into the cottage, and sat down in a corner,
tucking its legs carefully under it, so that no one could see them. The
neighbors, therefore, who had been alarmed at the squire’s account of
his fright and disaster, and came to the cottage in crowds, only saw a
pitcher, such as they all had at home, and put the old squire down as
being a little bit out of his mind.
Patty was awakened next morning by hearing a noise below, as if someone
was very busy with the furniture. She heard the chairs pushed about,
and presently the handle of a pail klink down as plain as could be. So
she put on her clothes and crept down stairs. She peeped cautiously
through the red curtains at the bottom, and there, to her wondering
surprise, she saw, what do you think?--not any thieves, but the
astonishing pitcher; and what do you think it was doing? Why, it was
mopping up the red tiles of the floor as handily as if it had never
done anything else all the days of its life; and more wonderful still,
the fire was made, and was burning brightly upon the hearth!
We can imagine a pitcher of water washing the floor, but we cannot
imagine it doing anything else with a fire except putting it out. But,
no! the fire was lighted, the kettle was on, and there it was, merrily
singing a little song about breakfast being nearly ready.
“Good morning, dear mistress,” said the pitcher, cheerfully; “you need
not trouble yourself to do anything but grow and improve your mind; for
from henceforth you will have but little labor to do, as I am here to
do it for you.”
You may suppose that Patty was well pleased to hear this, for she was
now growing to be a tall girl, and felt a great desire to improve
herself with books, which as yet she had had very little time to do,
having been so much taken up with her household cares.
When Patty was left alone in the evening with the pitcher, she told him
how much she was obliged to him for all he had done, and how much she
wished to learn; but did not know what to do for books, as she had read
the few she already possessed, many times over.
“Oh, I can soon help you there,” said the pitcher, “for you have only
to wish, and I will yield you as much milk as you desire. You can
then make butter and cheese, and go sell them at the market town; buy
as many books as you like, and have something left for other purposes
besides.”
No sooner said than done. Patty set out all the pans she had, and all
she could borrow from her kind neighbors, and as fast as they came the
pitcher ran about and filled them; so that she soon had plenty of cream
for her butter and cheese.
She had only to ask, and a good neighbor lent her a churn, while the
pitcher furnished a pair of arms to do the churning, and such butter
was produced as had not been seen in the village for many a day. You
may suppose that Patty was pleased; and as for her dear old parents,
they hardly knew what to make of it all.
The same good neighbor lent her a gentle horse and some baskets; and
early one lovely morning, she started for the market-town, to which the
pleased pitcher pointed out the way. He did not go with her, as he said
the people of the town were not accustomed to see brown pitchers with
legs, so he should stay at home and see about making the cheese.
Patty rode cheerfully on her way, looking as happy and handsome as
the best farmer’s daughter of them all--so everybody in the market
said--and she soon sold all her butter at the very best prices of the
day.
And so Patty went on thriving, and doing good to every one in need,
until in course of time, she grew into a beautiful and lovable young
woman, living in comfort with her old parents in one of the prettiest
cottages in the village.
Every one said that she deserved her good fortune; no one envied her;
she was loved by young and old; so, as you may well believe, she was
happy as the day is long.
_The Well-dressed Stranger_
And now, a wonderful thing came to pass, which changed the whole course
of Patty’s simple and contented life. One evening, she was standing
in her garden, feeding her pigeons, when a well-dressed stranger
approached the gate. After looking at her with admiration for a moment,
he bowed gracefully, at the same time removing his plumed hat, and, in
the politest manner, inquired the way to the next town.
Patty answered him pleasantly, and as she spoke, the music of her voice
and the charming modesty of her manner seemed to strike the young man
with surprise and pleasure.
He looked at her intently for a moment, which made Patty’s eyes seek
the ground in blushing confusion; then bowing again with greater
respect than before, he proceeded slowly on his way, often looking back
for another glimpse of sweet Patty.
And now, as you probably guess, the handsome young stranger came again
and again, although he knew his way very well indeed between the
village and the neighboring town. At last she found that it was the way
to her heart he was seeking. He told her parents that he was rich, and
wished to have a wife of whom every one spoke well. He did not care how
poor she might be, so that she loved him; since he had wealth enough
for both, and could choose to marry when and where he pleased.
You must not suppose, however, that Patty fell into the arms of the
young stranger at once. He coaxed her a great deal before she consented
to be his wife; as she wanted to make sure that he was as upright in
character as he was handsome in appearance.
The parents smiled as they looked upon the ardent and handsome lover,
whom, however, they did not think a bit too good for their darling
Patty; and so, in as short a time as was possible, they were happily
married.
Now the stranger who had married Patty was a prince in disguise; and
the pretty cottage-girl became a great princess, surrounded with all
the splendor of her high station!
Did Patty now forget her early home and her old friend, the pitcher?
No, she did not, for the pitcher went with her; but her parents wished
to end their days in the peaceful village where they were born. In the
splendid state in which she now lived, the pitcher was as useful to her
as before, though in a different way. When the poor came to the palace
gate, he gave them bread and nourishing soup for their families, for
which they daily blessed the kind princess who relieved their wants.
So you see the pitcher, although now not called upon to work, still
continued, in the name of his mistress, to do good to all around.
_Patty in Trouble_
But, alas! the best of us cannot escape from envious hearts and wicked
tongues, and so it befell with Patty. Her dream of happiness was short.
Many of the wicked courtiers envied her the love of the people, to whom
Patty was endeared by her gentle kindness; and they whispered slanders
into the ears of the prince, her husband, who at last, I am sorry to
say, was weak enough to listen to them; for they aroused his fears by
telling him that she was trying to bribe the people by her charities to
rebel against him.
They also said that she was served by evil spirits, and pointed to the
good and innocent pitcher as a proof of their wicked tales. Alas for
human weakness! The prince at last became convinced of her guilt; and
although his heart ached, he had her put into one of the dungeons of
the palace; and there poor Patty was left to mourn over the too easy
belief of her husband in her guilt.
She did not, however, mourn long, for as night came on, the prison door
gently opened, and there, to her great delight, she saw the faithful
pitcher, with a bunch of keys in his hand.
“Come,” said he, “let us return to your peaceful home, and show your
husband that it is his heart and not his riches that you covet. He will
come back to reason and repentance when he finds he has lost you.”
Poor Patty followed him in deep grief; but they had not gone far in
their flight, when she perceived with alarm, that they were followed by
a band of soldiers. She screamed with fright.
[Illustration: “BE NOT ALARMED, DEAR MISTRESS,” SAID THE
PITCHER]
_The Pitcher to the Rescue_
“Be not alarmed, dear mistress,” said the pitcher; “I will soon stop
their pursuit.” So saying, he bent over the side of a rock and poured
out a cataract of water through the valley in which the soldiers were
marching.
Soon the water swelled into huge waves, which swept the soldiers from
their path, and compelled them to save their lives by swimming to the
nearest land, when, wet and dispirited, they soon returned to their
master, the foolish prince.
That night Patty slept once more beneath the sheltering roof of her
parents, who, as you may suppose, received their darling with open arms.
She once more found herself in her beloved garden, and the flowers, as
you may believe, were often watered with her tears. It was but natural
that her thoughts should wander to the home of her husband, and that
she should grieve over his cruelty in return for her pure and ardent
love. Hope, however, whispered to her, in the midst of her tears, that
he would yet learn how false the stories were that had caused not only
her unhappiness, but his also. The pitcher, too, was always at her side
to give her comfort in her silent sorrow.
And thus days and weeks rolled on, but no news or messenger reached
her from her husband. Had he entirely abandoned her? Or did he believe
her to have been swept by the torrent that had so nearly drowned his
soldiers, who were too busy looking out for their own safety to notice
what had become of her?
She hoped that it was so, as that in a measure would excuse him; and
even now, he might be mourning her as lost to him forever! For surely,
she thought, long ere this the evil tongues must have appeared to him
in their true light.
One morning, she rose earlier than usual. She was restless and could
not sleep. The pure air was cool and refreshing to her fevered brow.
Looking sadly around her, she saw the dear old pitcher trimming the
flowers just like an experienced gardener.
“Good morning, dear mistress,” said he, rubbing his hands cheerfully;
“you are up betimes to-day, for the sun has hardly yet peeped into the
valley. I am glad you are so early afoot. As you see, I am taking extra
care with the garden, for I expect visitors to-day!”