if he could find a path leading to the summit. No such thing was to be
found but he saw a cleft between two rocks over which fell a cascade.
The water had shrunk to a mere thread because the season had been very
dry. Either the work of nature or the hand of man had formed rocks
into rough steps, which were almost covered with a sheet of water.
Finikin determined to climb the steps although they were slippery and
dangerous. Slowly and carefully he made his way to the top where a
hedge formed a circle round the garden. He crept through the prickly
bushes and saw before him an earthly paradise. The grass was dotted
over with every variety of rare, richly coloured flowers; the trees
were loaded with fruit that shone like precious stones; the air was
studded with the gayest butterflies; and birds with gold and silver
plumage were hopping from branch to branch and trilling the sweetest
songs.
Though Finikin was dazzled and charmed by all he saw, he walked on
without stopping until he came to some little boys who were gathering
plums.
“Who comes here?” said the boys on seeing the little stranger. “And
how did you get into our garden?”
“I come from the hermit in the forest,” cried Finikin. “He said you
could give me some pippins that would cure my father.”
“Oh! if you come from the hermit you shall have some pippins,” said one
of the boys who was Brownlocks. “Only you must gather them yourself.”
Then they led Finikin to another tree with a trunk as smooth and
shining as glass. Golden pippins grew on the great branches at the top
of the tree.
“Gather as many as you like,” said the little boys.
Finikin then began to climb the tree. He kept slipping down every
moment and, strange to say, the trunk kept growing higher and higher as
if it would reach the sky.
Now it happened that Finikin had a lot of chalk in his pocket. By
crumbling it to pieces in his hands he managed to grasp the tree trunk
firmly and after many patient efforts he reached the top of the tree.
He now filled his hat and pockets with pippins that were as clear as
topazes. The fruit was very heavy and when Finikin began to descend the
tree his load of pippins was so heavy that it dragged him down faster
and faster until he reached the ground. It was now twilight. The boys
had picked up all their plums and had gone.
Finikin looked around in all directions, and finally, he discovered in
the distance a gleam of light. He walked quickly up to it and found it
came from a fruit storehouse of white marble. Here were silver filigree
baskets filled with every kind of fruit and arranged neatly on shelves.
All the fruit in the silver baskets was soft and eatable, while that in
the golden baskets was turned to precious stones! The dark plums were
sapphires and amethysts; the greengages and gooseberries, emeralds;
the cherries, garnets; the white-hearts, rubies, dark on one side and
almost white on the other; the black currants, black pearls. A number
of beautiful empty baskets were hanging on gold and silver hooks.
Here Finikin found one of the boys, who wished him joy of his success,
and after helping him to empty his pippins into a gold basket, the lad
led Finikin down a flight of greenish marble steps into a beautiful
hall which was lighted up with mother-of-pearl lamps hanging from the
ceiling. Here in the center of the room supper was laid. The table was
of citron-wood, and round the board were set cedar stools. On the walls
countless toys of every description hung on golden hooks.
Finikin was so hungry after his day’s work that he was glad enough to
sit down and eat his supper.
When their meal was over Brownlocks said: “Now, Finikin, we will play
some games.”
But Finikin begged leave to go, as it was already late and he was
afraid he could not reach home till the night was half spent.
“If you are afraid of being out in the night,” said one of the little
friends, “you may stay and sleep in the empty bed of one of our
comrades who is absent; and to-morrow, at sunrise, we will go with you
a part of the way, and play together as we go along.”
“I must not stay,” said Finikin. “My father is very ill, dear friends,
and I hope to reach home before it is too late.”
“You shall do as you like,” said the boys. Then one of them took down
from the wall a stick with a nag’s head.
“Take this toy with you,” he said.
It was a very simple toy, but Finikin was delighted with the gift.
“It will carry you six times as fast as a horse, wherever you wish to
go,” cried the little boys.
Finikin clapped his hands for joy and said, “May I have a toy for
Winikin, my brother?”
“No,” they said, “Winikin must come himself for a toy. We cannot send
him one.”
Finikin thanked the lads and wished them good-night.
“Good-night, Finikin,” they cried; “you may come to see us every
Midsummer Eve on your nag. _He_ will always find the way although you
couldn’t. Good-night!”
So Finikin left Magic Toyland. As soon as he was out-of-doors and had
placed his basket of pippins on his arm he mounted his stick with the
nag’s head.
Away he started! He had scarcely time to wonder how he should manage to
ride down the steep rocks. He seemed to be sinking deeper and deeper
and without knowing how, he found himself in the long narrow passage
leading to the hermit’s garden.
All this time Winikin lay asleep in the woods. The sun was low in the
western sky when he opened his eyes and saw Goldlocks sitting on the
grass playing with a cup and ball.
“Lend me that plaything,” said Winikin.
“No,” said Goldlocks, “I have something which two of us can play with.”
He pointed to a couple of golden drums covered with finest vellum that
were lying in the grass. The drumsticks were of ebony inlaid with
mother-of-pearl.
“We’ll play hide-and seek,” he said. “I’ll hide first and then I will
beat my drum and you must try to guess from the sound where I am.”
“That will be good fun,” said Winikin.
Goldlocks ran and hid himself. At the beating of the drum Winikin found
him quite easily. Then Winikin hid but he had hardly struck the drum
with his stick until there was Goldlocks! So they played for some time
but at last Goldlocks hid himself so well that, though he kept beating
his drum, Winikin could not find him. He ran to the right and to the
left but it was of no use. The sound seemed to come from all directions
at once. He tapped his own drum, and cried out, “Come back, Goldlocks!
Where are you? Come back!”
He beat his drum so hard that it snapped! It was growing very dark! The
brambles grew thicker at every step! The sound of Goldlocks’ drum was
growing fainter and fainter until at last Winikin could not hear it at
all. He scratched his hands and tore his clothes at every step, but at
last he found a path which led out of the thick wood.
He walked along until he came to a small lake; “Oh! what shall I do,”
he cried. “I’ve missed the way old Roger told me to take! Where shall I
stay to-night!”
In a little while he saw Goldlocks with smiling face coming towards
him. The lad carried a couple of battledores, covered with silver nets.
The handles were of richly carved gold. He had a shuttlecock, too,
which was made from the plumes of a hummingbird.
“Why, what is the matter?” asked Goldlocks.
“Oh! I thought you had run away, and left me,” cried Winikin. “And I’ve
lost my way! I don’t know what to do.”
“Let’s play a game of battledore,” was Goldlocks’ answer.
Winikin dried his tears and said. “Tell me where you get such pretty
toys.”
“I’ve plenty more at home, and prettier ones than these,” replied his
companion.
“I wish you would take me home with you,” said Winikin. “Where do you
live?”
“There across the lake,” said the little boy, pointing to some distant
hills.
The lads now played a game of battledore and kept tossing the
shuttlecock higher and higher till at last it fell into the lake at a
great distance, but remained floating on the surface.
“Let us jump in and see who will catch it first,” said Goldlocks.
Away he darted into the water, and soon swam out of sight among the
bulrushes that grew on an islet in the middle of the lake. Winikin
believed he could swim, too, so into the water he jumped. In the dusk
a white water-lily looked like the lost shuttlecock. Poor Winikin
snatched at it, lost his balance, and fell down in the water. He tried
to scream out to his companion, but he could not make a sound. After
this he could not remember what took place.
Luckily the lake was not deep; he quickly rose to the surface and the
gentle waves bore him to the shore where he lay insensible for several
hours.
It was near daybreak when Winikin came to his senses again. He
stared about wondering whether it was all a dream, or whether he had
really played with Goldlocks the day before. Then he saw one of the
battledores lying besides him and the lost shuttlecock.
“I had better stop here, or else he won’t find me if he returns,”
thought Winikin.
He looked up and saw a little boy galloping along as fast as his wooden
horse would carry him! It was Finikin!
The good little fellow had carried home his basket of fruit and had
seen his father improve after eating one of the golden pippins. Then
he had gone to find Roger, the huntsman, who said he had sent Winikin
to the magical garden. Away went Finikin at full speed, like a small
knight-errant, to seek his brother.
Of course Winikin was ashamed when he heard what his brother had done.
“I shall go to the wonderful garden and bring back a basket of
cherries,” he cried. “Perhaps they will give me a hobby-horse! Nothing
shall tempt me again to idle on the way. Will you not lend me your
wooden nag, brother!”
“Yes, take it and hurry along,” said Finikin.
“Gee-ho!” cried Winikin striding the stick. But the nag would not stir
a bit faster than other sticks that children play with.
“Come!” said Finikin. “Get up behind me!”
Away went the little lads on the wooden horse. In a little while they
came to the foot of the rocks, where Finikin left his brother. Then
Finikin galloped home for the little boys had told him not to come
again until Midsummer Eve.
When he was gone Winikin sat down and wondered how he should ever reach
the garden. Perhaps the little boys would come out and help him. At
least he would let them know where he was. He began to toss up the
shuttlecock. Away it soared as if it had wings and lighted on a tree
in the garden. At this moment a few red streaks were seen in the sky
and the little boys came out into the garden. One of them saw the
shuttlecock!
“Who is there?” he cried.
“My name is Winikin. I am Finikin’s twin brother,” was the answer.
“What do you want?” asked the boy in the garden.
“I want to see your pretty toys! and I want a basket of cherries,” said
Winikin.
The garden lads let down a basket and drew him up. There was Goldlocks
as merry and mischievous looking as ever.
“You left me in the water, Goldlocks!” said Winikin to his playfellow.
“Yes, I had lost too much time to stay any longer,” said Goldlocks.
“Come, let us have breakfast.”
They all sat down on the grass under the trees and feasted on
strawberries and cream served in the finest porcelain bowls.
After breakfast Winikin said, “Now let us play.”
“Oh! we must gather fruit first! There is work to be done. You had
better gather your basket of cherries,” said one of the lads. “The
cherry trees are over there. Gather a basketful from the one which
stands in the middle.” The lads then went about their work.
With his usual idle habits Winikin began plucking flowers and chasing
butterflies. When his little friends came to fetch him to play games,
they found he was not a jot farther than when they left him.
“We can’t play with you, Winikin, until you have gathered your fruit,”
said Goldlocks.
And then he laid a golden trap-ball down on the grass, and the five
little boys began to play merrily.
Winikin saw that he must work before he could join them at play so he
began to climb the tree. What a long time it took him to reach the
top. The fine cherries which were white-hearts were so ripe and juicy
you may be sure he ate a good many of them. But at last he filled his
pockets, descended the tree and lay down on the grass tired out with
his work.
After a time the lads came to fetch him to dinner. They first led him
through the fruit-chamber where they helped him to empty his pockets
into a silver filigree basket.
“Put all you have brought into the basket,” said one of the lads; “for
your cherries will harden into rubies in two or three days. Come now
into the hall where dinner is ready.”
Winikin could scarcely eat for looking at the toys in the magical hall.
When the meal was over he asked leave to play with some of them.
The boys showed him a great many playthings he had never seen before
but at last one of them said, “It is time to start, Winikin, if you
wish to reach home before night.”
“Won’t you give me a little wooden nag like my brother’s?” asked
Winikin.
“We haven’t another in our collection but you may have this toy,” they
answered giving him an agate cup and ball fastened to a delicate gold
chain.
Winikin was well pleased with this toy and taking up his basket, he
followed the little boys down a long, long flight of steps which
brought them to the bottom of the rocks where he saw a little crack
just large enough for him to creep through.
“Do you see that large brown butterfly whose wings are tipped with dark
blue?” asked Goldlocks. “Follow him. If you don’t lose sight of him he
will show you the way.”
So Winikin started. The butterfly kept bobbing up and down, now
lighting on this flower, and now on that. In fact Winikin could very
easily keep up with him. But at a turn in the road a splendid butterfly
rose out of a bush. Away darted Winikin after him although the lad
noticed that the brown butterfly went in the opposite direction.
“I can soon catch up with old Browncoat again,” thought Winikin.
Sunwings, the beautiful butterfly, led Winikin a fine dance over bank
and bush, but at last the lad was obliged to give up the chase. He was
a little surprised to find that he had lost some of his cherries in
running after the golden butterfly.
“I’ll go back and find old Browncoat,” he said to himself. “After all
the loss of a few cherries does not matter much. How thirsty I am. A
few cherries will refresh me.”
So he sat down and ate several and then took out his cup and ball to
amuse himself. After awhile he got up and again tried to find his way.
“How hungry and thirsty I am,” he thought, taking one cherry after
another from his basket until it was almost emptied.
After wandering about until twilight he found himself at the foot of
the rocks on top of which was the magic garden. He tried to find the
crevice through which he had crept out that morning but a foaming
cascade was dashing down over it.
He shouted at the top of his voice, “I’ve lost my way, boys. Let me eat
supper with you in the hall of toys and sleep here for the night.”
“We have eaten supper,” answered the boys; “but you shall have some. We
can’t let you stay all night for we have no spare bed.”
They let down a basket and drew Winikin up as before and after taking
him into the hall they went to bed. After he had eaten a hearty meal
the boys called out to him to put out the lights and leave.
“But,” said Winikin, “how am I to get out of the garden?”
Goldlocks peeped out of his snowy bed and said, “There is a bat outside
which will show you the way, and if you follow him better than you did
the butterfly you will reach home in fairly good time.”
Then Winikin put out the lamps in the sleeping-room, but before he put
out the lights in the large hall he couldn’t resist sauntering around
once more to look at the toys. When he reached the door that led to the
fruit-chamber he thought he might as well fill up his basket again, as
a few cherries could not be missed from such a quantity. This he did.
Then fearing the boys would chide him for his delay he began to put out
the lights. Very foolishly he started with the one nearest the outer
door, so that by the time he reached the end of the long hall and put
out the last lamp, he found himself in the dark.
Winikin was now so frightened that he didn’t know what to do, for, if
he tried to move in the dark he would be sure to overturn the table or
the stools, so he cowered down in the corner hoping the boys would fall
asleep and forget him, and that next morning he might escape before
they were up. But presently he heard the boys get up very softly and
come into the hall saying, “There’s a thief here!” Winikin held his
breath, and hoped to escape without notice; but they marched up to the
corner where he lay hid just as if it had been broad daylight. Each had
a rod in his hand and Winikin received a sound thrashing. At last he
cried out, “It is only I. Don’t hurt me!”
Then they stopped and dragged Winikin out of the hall. They emptied the
basket of the cherries he had taken, which were easily distinguished
from the others, as in his hurry he had helped himself out of a golden
basket to some cherries that had hardened into rubies. Then the lads
fetched an ivory ladder of great length and putting it over the hedge
they forced him to leave the garden at once.
Winikin cried bitterly when he saw the ladder taken up again but at
last he began to think he had better make the best of a bad bargain.
So he set off and, as Goldlocks had promised, a bat flew before him to
show him the way.
For awhile he followed his leader carefully and made good resolutions
as he went along, but alas! Suddenly a troop of fireflies flitted past
him, and he said to himself, “How much better they would light me
than this tiresome bat which keeps flapping his wings in my eyes! The
fireflies are like so many lanterns and surely they’ll know the way
best.” But they led him into a bog where he spent the night.
When morning dawned, he looked round for some hut where he could ask
his way, but he recollected to his horror that neither yesterday nor
the day before had he seen even a single being stirring anywhere.
He saw that he was within a charmed circle, and kept turning to no
purpose. After toiling for some time he again recognized familiar
objects, and the well-known garden in the distance. Winikin hardly
dared again apply to the little boys, yet having eaten all the cherries
to appease his hunger, and seeing no chance of freeing himself from his
desperate position, he went to the rocks and clapped hands. Presently
the boys appeared.
“Who dares to come a third time unbidden?” said they.
“Alas!” cried the foolish wanderer, “I have again lost my way, and
eaten all the cherries. Please take pity and let me come up.”
“No,” said they, “you do not deserve to come into our garden any more;
and as you are not to be trusted to go home, and we don’t wish to be
disturbed by you again, we shall now send you back.”
So saying, they disappeared for a moment, and soon crept out at the
foot of the rocks, bringing with them a go-cart, into which they put
Winikin.
“All right,” they cried out, and away it darted, at the speed which
would shame an express train.
The go-cart, which was indeed worthy of its name, ran over hill and
dale, rocks and water till Winikin thought every moment he would be
dashed to pieces. At length it stopped when it reached his native
village, before the door of a fine large farmhouse, and then, as if to
make up for the lost time the moment Winikin had got out, it darted
away again at double speed and went back to the magical garden.
“How is this?” said Winikin. “I don’t see our cottage anywhere.” And
then he stopped a passer-by, and said to him: “Where do my parents
live? For some reason I can’t find the house!”
“Straight before your nose, you young idler,” said the man.
At the same moment his mother appeared at the door of the farm house.
“Well, Winikin,” she said, putting her arms around him, “you have
been a long time, but I suppose you have brought something worth the
trouble.”
It must be explained, that what had appeared three days to Winikin was,
in fact, three weeks, for in that enchanted region a single day was
equal in time to a week in the ordinary world. Finikin had escaped from
this law, because he had returned before midnight, and consequently,
had not spent a whole day away from home.
The mother then led Winikin into the house where he found Finikin and
his father, who had quite recovered since he had eaten one of the
golden pippins. All the rest of them had hardened into topazes, and had
been sold by the parents to a rich jeweler in the nearest town. The
money received had served to buy and stock the farm where they were
living. The old cottage had been pulled down, and a barn was going to
be built on its site.
“And now,” said the father, “though you are too late, Winny, to do me
any good, let us see what you have brought.”
Winikin was very much ashamed to have nothing to show but an empty
basket nor did he improve matters by telling his parents that “there
had been some very fine cherries in it.” However, what was done could
not now be mended, and the only thing left for Winikin was to try to
improve.
For a long time after, whenever he went on a message, the villagers
would say: “Don’t be three weeks on the road, as when you went to fetch
cherries for your sick father.”
He was still further ashamed when midsummer came round again and his
brother set off for the beautiful garden on his little nag, while
Winikin had only a cup and ball, that gave him a rap on the head every
time he played with it when he ought to have been doing something else!
After receiving many raps, however, he learned that he must not take
out his toy except at the proper time.
As long as their childhood lasted Finikin continued to visit the
little boys, but when he began to grow too big to play with them, they
bade him affectionately farewell, and as a parting gift they gave
him branches of their apple-tree and cherry-tree. When these were
grafted on two trees at the farmhouse they produced the finest fruit
ever eaten. The cherries were the first white-hearts and the apples
were ever since called golden pippins, on account of their origin.
(Adapted.)
THE STORY OF FAIRYFOOT
FRANCES BROWNE
Once upon a time, there stood far away in the west country a town
called Stumpinghame. It contained seven windmills, a royal palace, a
market-place, and a prison, with every other convenience befitting
the capital of a kingdom. It stood in the midst of a great plain,
which for three leagues round its walls was covered with corn, flax,
and orchards. Beyond that lay a great circle of pasture land, and it
was bounded on all sides by a forest so thick and old that no man in
Stumpinghame knew its extent; and the opinion of the learned was, that
it reached to the end of the world.
There were strong reasons for this opinion. First, that forest was
known to be inhabited time out of mind by the fairies, and no hunter
cared to go beyond its borders--so all the west country believed it
to be solidly full of old trees from end to end. Secondly, the people
of Stumpinghame were no travellers--man, woman, and child had feet so
large and heavy that it was by no means convenient to carry them far.
Great feet had been the fashion there from time immemorial, and the
higher the family the larger were their feet.
Stumpinghame had a king of its own, and his name was Stiffstep; his
family was very ancient and large-footed. His subjects called him Lord
of the World, and he made a speech to them every year concerning the
grandeur of his mighty empire. His queen, Hammerheel, was the greatest
beauty in Stumpinghame. Her majesty’s shoe was not much less than a
fishing-boat. Their six children promised to be quite as handsome, and
all went well with them till the birth of their seventh son.
For a long time nobody about the palace could understand what was the
matter--the ladies-in-waiting looked so astonished, and the king so
vexed; but at last it was whispered through the city that the queen’s
seventh child had been born with such miserably small feet that they
resembled nothing ever seen or heard of in Stumpinghame, except the
feet of the fairies.
All the relations of the king and queen assembled at the palace to
mourn with them over the singular misfortune. The whole court and most
of the citizens helped in this mourning; but when it had lasted seven
days they all found out it was of no use. So the relations went to
their homes, and the people took to their work, and to cheer up the
queen’s spirits, the young prince was sent privately out to the pasture
lands, to be nursed among the shepherds.