forget what I have said, or you will make us both unhappy." No, she
would not forget it. When they came to the farm, the bear turned around
and went away.
There was such a joy when she came in to her parents that there was
no end to it. They said they did not know how to thank her fully for
what she had done for them. They had everything they wanted, and
everybody asked after her and wanted to know how she was getting on,
and where she was living. She said that she was very comfortable and
had everything she wished for; but what she otherwise answered I don't
know, but I believe they did not get much out of her.
But one day after dinner it happened exactly as the white bear had
said; her mother wanted to speak with her alone in her chamber. But
she recollected what the bear had told her, and would not go with her.
"What we have got to talk about, we can do at some other time," she
said.
But somehow or other her mother talked her round at last, and so she
had to tell her everything. She told her how a man came into her room
every night as soon as she had put out the light, and how she never saw
him, for he was always gone before the day dawned. She was sorrowful at
this, for she thought she would so like to see him; and in the day-time
she walked about there all alone and felt very lonely and sad.
"Oh, dear me!" said her mother, "it may be a troll for all we know! But
I will tell you how you can get a sight of him. You shall have a piece
of candle from me, and this you must take with you home in your bosom.
When he is asleep, light that candle, but take care not to drop any of
the tallow on him."--Yes, she took the candle and hid it in her bosom,
and in the evening the white bear came and fetched her.
When they had gone some distance of the way the bear asked her if
everything hadn't happened as he had said. Yes, she couldn't deny
that.--Well, if you have listened to your mother's advice you will make
us both unhappy and all will be over between us," said the bear.--No,
that she hadn't!
When she came home and had gone to bed, the same thing occurred as
before. Some one came into the room and sat in the arm-chair by her
bedside, but in the middle of the night when she heard that he was
asleep, she got up and struck a light, lit the candle, and let the
light fall on him. She then saw that he was the loveliest prince anyone
could wish to see, and she fell at once in love with him; she thought
that if she could not kiss him there and then she would not be able to
live. And so she did, but she dropped three hot drops of tallow on him
and he woke up.
"What have you done?" he said, "you have now made us both unhappy for
ever, for if you had only held out one year I should have been saved.
I have a stepmother who has bewitched me, and I am now a white bear
by day and a man by night. But now all is over between us, and I must
leave you and go back to her; she lives in a castle which lies east
of the sun and west of the moon, and in the same castle there is a
princess with a nose two yards long, and now I must marry her."
She wept and cried, but there was no help for it; he must go and leave
her. So she asked him if she might not go with him. No, that was
impossible!--"But if you will tell me the way, I will try and find
you," she said. "I suppose I may have leave to do that!"--Yes, she
could do that, he said, but there was no road to that place; it lay
east of the sun and west of the moon, and she could never find her way
there.
Next morning when she awoke, both the prince and the castle were gone;
she lay on a little green field far in the middle of the dark, thick
forest, and by her side lay the same bundle with her old rags, which
she had brought with her from home. When she had rubbed the sleep out
of her eyes and wept till she was tired, she set out on her way and
walked for many, many a day, till she at last came to a big mountain.
Close to it an old woman sat and played with a golden apple. She asked
her if she knew the way to the prince who lived with his stepmother in
a castle that lay east of the sun and west of the moon, and who was
going to marry a princess with a nose two yards long.
"How do you know him?" asked the old woman, "perhaps it was you who
should have had him?"
Yes, it was she. "Ah, indeed! is that you?" said the woman; "well, all
I know is that he lives in that castle which lies east of the sun and
west of the moon, and thither you will come late or never; but I will
lend you my horse and on him you can ride to my neighbor, an old friend
of mine; perhaps she can tell you. When you have got there, just give
my horse a blow with your whip under the left ear and ask him to go
home again;--and you had better take this golden apple with you."
So she got up on the horse and rode a long, long time till she at
last came to a mountain, where an old woman was sitting with a golden
carding-comb. She asked her if she knew the way to the castle which lay
east of the sun and west of the moon. She answered like the first old
woman, that she didn't know anything about it, but it was sure to be
east of the sun and west of the moon, "and thither you will come, early
or late, but I will lend you my horse as far as my neighbor; perhaps
she can tell you. When you have got there, just give my horse a blow
under the left ear and ask him to go home again." And the old woman
gave her the golden carding-comb, which might come in useful for her.
The young girl got up on the horse and rode for a long, long, weary
time, and came at last to a large mountain, where an old woman was
sitting and spinning on a golden spinning-wheel. She asked her if she
knew the way to the prince, and where the castle was that lay east of
the sun and west of the moon. And so came the same question: "Perhaps
it is you who should have had the prince?"--Yes, it was! But the old
woman knew the way no better than the other two. It was east of the
sun and west of the moon,--She knew that,--"and thither you will come,
early or late," she said, "but I will lend you my horse, and I think
you had better ride to the east wind and ask him. Perhaps he is known
about those parts and can blow you there. When you have got there, just
touch the horse under the ear and he'll go home again." And so she gave
her the golden spinning-wheel. "You might find use for it," said the
old woman.
She rode on many days for a long, weary time before she got to the east
wind, but after a long time she did reach it, and so she asked him if
he could tell her the way to the prince, who lived east of the sun
and west of the moon. Yes, he had heard tell of that prince, said the
east wind, and of the castle too, but he didn't know the way thither,
for he had never blown so far. "But if you like, I'll go with you to
my brother, the west wind. Perhaps he may know it, for he is much
stronger. Just get up on my back and I'll carry you thither."
Yes, she did so, and away they went at a great speed. When they got to
the west wind, they went in to him, and the east wind told him that his
companion was the one who should have had the prince who lived in the
castle, which lay east of the sun and west of the moon; she was now on
her way to find him again, and so he had gone with her to hear if the
west wind knew where that castle was.
"No, I have never blown so far," said the west wind, "but if you like
I'll go with you to the south wind, for he is much stronger than any
of us, and he has been far and wide; perhaps he may tell you. You had
better sit up on my back and I'll carry you thither."
Well, she got on his back, and off they started for the south wind;
they weren't long on the way, I can tell you! When they got there, the
west wind asked his brother if he could tell him the way to that castle
which lay east of the sun and west of the moon. His companion was the
one who should have had the prince who lived there.
"Oh, indeed!" said the south wind, "is that she? Well, I have been to
many a nook and corner in my time, but so far I have never blown. But
if you like, I'll go with you to my brother, the north wind; he is the
oldest and strongest of all of us, and if he doesn't know where it is
you will never be able to find any one who can tell you. Just get up on
my back and I'll carry you thither."
Yes, she sat up on his back, and away they went at such a rate, that
the way didn't seem to be very long.
When they got to where the north wind lived he was so wild and unruly
that cold gusts were felt a long way off. "What do you want?" he
shouted from far away, but still it made them shiver all over.
"Oh, you needn't be so very harsh," said the south wind, "it's I, your
own brother; and then I have got her with me who should have had the
prince who lives in that castle which lies east of the sun and west of
the moon, and she wants to ask you if you have ever been there and if
you can tell her the way. She is very anxious to find him again."
"Well, yes, I do know where it is," said the north wind; I once blew
an aspen leaf thither, but I was so tired that I wasn't able to blow
for many days after. But if you really intend going there and you are
not afraid to come with me, I will take you on my back and try if I can
blow you so far."--Yes, she was willing; she must go thither, if it
were possible, one way or another, and she wasn't a bit afraid, go how
it would.
"Very well!" said the north wind, "you must stop here to-night then,
for we must have a whole day before us and perhaps more, if we are to
reach it."
Early next morning the north wind called her, and then he blew himself
out and made himself so big and strong that he was terrible to look at.
Away they went, high up through the air at such a fearful speed, as if
they were going to the end of the world. There was such a hurricane on
land that trees and houses were blown down, and when they came out on
the big sea, ships were wrecked by hundreds. And onwards they swept,
so far, far, that no one would believe how far they went, and still
farther and farther out to sea, till the north wind got more and more
tired and so used up that he was scarcely able to give another blow,
and was sinking and going down more and more; and at last they were so
low that the tops of the billows touched their heels.
"Are you afraid?" said the north wind.--"No," she said, she wasn't a
bit afraid. But they were not so very far from land either, and the
north wind had just sufficient strength left to reach the shore and put
her off just under the windows of the castle which lay east of the sun
and west of the moon; but he was then so tired and worn out that he
had to rest for many days before he could start on his way home again.
Next morning she sat down under the castle windows, and began playing
with the golden apple, and the first one she saw was the princess with
the long nose, whom the prince was going to marry.
"What do you want for that golden apple of yours?" she asked, and
opened the casement.--"It is not for sale, neither for gold nor
money," said the girl.--"If it isn't for sale for gold or money, what
do you want for it then?" said the princess; "I'll give you what you
ask!"--"Well, if I to-night may sit in the arm-chair by the bedside
of the prince who lives here, you shall have it," said the girl who
came with the north wind.--Yes, she might do that, there would be no
difficulty about that.
So the princess got the golden apple; but when the girl came up into
the prince's bedroom in the evening, he was fast asleep; she called him
and shook him, and now and then she cried and wept; but no, she could
not wake him up so that she might speak to him. Next morning, as soon
as the day dawned, the princess with the long nose came and turned her
out of the room.
Later in the day she sat down under the castle windows and began
carding with her golden carding-comb, and then the same thing happened
again. The princess asked her what she wanted for the carding-comb, and
she told her that it wasn't for sale, neither for gold nor money, but
if she might get leave to sit in the arm-chair by the prince's bedside
that night, she should have it. But when she came up into the bedroom
she found him fast asleep again, and for all she cried and shook him,
for all she wept, he slept so soundly that she could not get life into
him; and when the day dawned in the early morning, in came the princess
with the long nose and turned her out of the room again.
So as the day wore on, she sat down under the castle windows and
began spinning on the spinning-wheel, and that the princess with the
long nose wanted also to have. She opened the casement and asked the
girl what she wanted for it. The girl told her, as she had done twice
before, that it was not for sale, either for gold or money, but if she
might sit in the arm-chair by the prince's bedside that night, she
should have it. Yes, she might do that. But there were some Christian
people who had been carried off and were imprisoned in the room next to
the prince's, and they had heard that some woman had been in his room
and wept and cried and called his name two nights running, and this
they told the prince.
In the evening, when the princess came and brought him his drink, he
made appear as if he drank, but he threw it over his shoulder, for he
felt sure she had put a sleeping draught in his drink.
So when the girl came into his room that night she found the prince
wide awake, and then she told him how she had come there. "You have
just come in time," said the prince, "for to-morrow I was to be married
to the princess; but I won't have that Long-nose, and you are the only
one that can save me. I will say that I want to see what my bride can
do, and if she is fit to be my wife; then I will ask her to wash the
shirt with the three tallow stains on it. She will try, for she does
not know that it is you who dropped the tallow on the shirt; but that
can only be done by Christian folks, and not by a pack of trolls like
we have in this place; and so I will say that I will not have anybody
else for a bride except the one who can wash the shirt clean, and I
know you can do that." And they felt very glad and happy, and they went
on talking all night about the joyful time in store for them.
The next day, when the wedding was to take place, the prince said: "I
think I must see first what my bride can do!"--"Yes, quite so!" said
the stepmother.
"I have got a very fine shirt, which I am going to use for my wedding
shirt; but there are three tallow stains on it which I want washed out;
and I have made a vow that I will not take any other woman for a wife
than the one who is able to do that; if she cannot do that, she is not
worth having," said the prince.
"Well, that was easy enough," said the stepmother and agreed to this
trial. Well, the princess with the long nose set to washing the
best she could, but the more she washed the bigger grew the stains.
"Why, you cannot wash," said the old witch, her stepmother; "let me
try!"--but no sooner did she take the shirt than it got still worse,
and the more she washed and rubbed the bigger and blacker the stains
grew.
So did the other trolls try their hands at washing, but the longer they
worked at it the dirtier the shirt grew, till at last it looked as if
it had been up the chimney. "Ah, you are not worth anything, the whole
lot of you!" said the prince; "there's a poor girl under the window
just outside here, and I am sure she can wash much better than any of
you. Come in, my girl!" he shouted out to her.--Yes, she would come
in.--"Can you wash this shirt clean?" asked the prince.--"Well, I don't
know," she said, "but I will try."
And no sooner had she taken the shirt and dipped it in the water, than
it was as white as the driven snow, if not whiter. "Yes, you shall be
my wife," said the prince. But the old witch flew into such a rage
that she burst; and the princess with the long nose and all the trolls
must have burst also, for I never heard of them since. The prince and
his bride then set free all the people who had been carried off and
imprisoned there, and so they took as much gold and silver with them as
they could carry, and moved far away from the castle which lay east of
the sun and west of the moon.
* * * * *
Be good, dear child, and let who will be clever;
_Do_ noble things, not _dream_ them all day long,
And so make life, death, and that _vast forever_,
One grand, sweet song.
CHARLES KINGSLEY.
[Illustration]
THE BABY IN THE HOME.
GEO. MAC DONALD.
Where did you come from, baby, dear?
Out of the everywhere into here.
Where did you get the eyes so blue?
Out of the sky as I came through.
Where did you get that little tear?
I found it waiting when I got here.
What makes your forehead so smooth and high?
A soft hand stroked it as I went by.
What makes your cheek like a warm, white rose?
I saw something better than anyone knows.
[Illustration: "FEET, WHENCE DID YOU COME."]
Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss?
Three angels gave me at once a kiss.
Where did you get this pretty ear?
God spoke, and it came out to hear.
Where did you get those arms and hands?
Love made itself into hooks and bands.
Feet, whence did you come, you darling things?
From the same box as the cherub's wings.
How did they all come just to be you?
God thought of me and so I grew.
But how did you come to us, my dear?
God thought about you, and so I am here."
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
SATURDAY AFTERNOON.
N. P. WILLIS.
I love to look on a scene like this,
Of wild and careless play,
And persuade myself that I am not old,
And my locks are not yet gray;
For it stirs the blood in an old man's heart.
And makes his pulses fly,
To catch the thrill of a happy voice;
And the light of a pleasant eye.
I have walked the world for four score years,
And they say that I am old--
That my heart is ripe for the reaper, Death,
And my years are well-nigh told.
It is very true--it is very true--
I am old, and I "bide my time;"
But my heart will leap at a scene like this,
And I half renew my prime.
Play on! play on! I am with you there,
In the midst of your merry ring;
I can feel the thrill of the daring jump,
And the rush of the breathless swing.
I hide with you in the fragrant hay,
And I whoop the smothered call,
And my feet slip up on the seedy floor,
And I care not for the fall.
I am willing to die when my time shall come,
And I shall be glad to go--
For the world, at best, is a dreary place,
And my pulse is getting low;
But the grave is dark, and the heart will fail
In treading its gloomy way;
And it wiles my heart from its dreariness,
To see the young so gay.
[Illustration]
THE KING OF THE NIGHT.
BARNEY CORNWALL.
In the hollow tree, in the old gray tower,
The spectral owl doth dwell;
Dull, hated, despised, in the sunshine hour,
But at dusk he's abroad and well;
Not a bird of the forest e'er mates with him,
All mock him outright by day;
But at night, when the woods grow still and dim,
The boldest will shrink away;
O, when the night falls, and roosts the fowl,
Then, then, is the reign of the horned owl.
And the owl hath a bride, who is fond and bold,
And loveths the woods deep gloom;
[Illustration: "THE KING OF THE NIGHT."]
And, with eyes like the shine of the moonstone cold,
She awaiteth her ghastly groom;
Not a feather she moves, not a carol she sings,
But when her heart heareth his flapping wings,
She hoots out her welcome shrill;
O, when the moon shines and the dogs do howl,
Then, then, is the joy of the horned owl!
Mourn not for the owl nor his gloomy plight;
The owl hath his share of good:
If a prisoner he be in broad daylight,
He is lord in the dark green wood;
Nor lonely the bird nor his ghastly mate,
They are each unto each a pride;
Thrice fonder, perhaps, since a strange, dark fate
Hath rent them from all beside;
So, when the night falls and dogs do howl,
Sing, ho! for the reign of the horned owl.
We know not alway
Who are kings by day,
But the king of the night is the bold brown owl.
[Illustration]
A 'RITHMETIC LESSON.
PHILLIP BAILEY.
Oh, ho, hum! my sakes alive!
Where is my old 'rithmetic?
Here 'tis: five times one are five.
This most makes a fellow sick!
Let me see: well, four times eight,
Guess I'll have to take a look;
I'm _so sick_ of this old slate.
Wish the scamp that made this book
Had to sleep on stacks of rules,
Covered up with multiplication!
Don't see who invented schools--
Meanest things in all creation!
[Illustration: KEPT IN FOR STUDY.]
It must be done before I go!
To-morrow's lesson's harder still.--
What's that! the boys are balling snow.
Oh, dear! I wonder if I ever will,
Think out this sum, in time for tea!
[Illustration]
Press on! surmount the rocky steeps;
Climb boldly o'er the torrent's arch;
He fails alone who feebly creeps;
He wins who dares the hero's march.
Be thou a hero! let thy might
Tramp on eternal snows its way,
And through the ebon walls of night,
Hew down a passage unto day.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
FAIRIES--OR FIRE-FLIES.
MRS. S. M. B. PIATT.
Let's see. We believe in wings,
We believe in the grass and dew,
We believe in the moon--and other things,
That may be true.
But are there any? Talk low.
(Look! What is that eery spark?)
If there _are_ any--why, there they go,
Out in the dark.
[Illustration]
Nay, speak no ill, but lenient be
To others' failings as your own;
If you're the first a fault to see,
Be not the first to make it known;
For life is but a passing day,
No lip may tell how brief its span;
Then, oh! the little time we stay,
Let's speak of all the best we can.
THE AMBITIOUS TWIG.
AN ALLEGORY.
LUCIE COBBE.
[Illustration]
Many years ago, two little branches grew in a hedgerow; they were
brothers, but their tastes were different. The younger one was lazy,
and liked to stay in the shade; but the elder one kept pushing steadily
upwards, and making all the haste to grow that he could.
He had seven leaves each side, but his brother had only three.
"Why can't you stay where you are?" said the younger one; "you are well
in the middle of the hedge."
"I want to get higher," sighed the elder twig; "there is plenty to be
seen outside."
And he kept growing taller and taller.
"You are going beyond us," cried his sister twigs, "bend down a little,
brother."
"If I bent my back I should stop growing," said the twig; and he
listened to catch their voices.
"Conceited fellow! he is trying to grow the tallest!" said some of the
twigs; and a murmuring swept through the hedge.
One day more of pushing and striving, and he was nearly at the top of
the hedge. He could no longer see his brother, but he called to him
down through the branches.
"Brother, where are you?" he cried, "and what do you see down there?"
"I am wrapped up in softness," said the fair younger brother; "the
green boughs are round me, the wind does not touch me--all round me is
nothing but green. Just down below me grows a round, white daisy--oh,
such a beautiful daisy! All the day long I am looking at her."
The first brother felt a little lonely when he heard all this, but the
sun still drew him upward. The next day he was quite at the top of the
hedge, and a head and shoulders taller than any of his brothers. The
voice of his younger brother came up to him, but it sounded very faint
and far away.
"Are you happy, brother, and what can you see up there?"
"I see the sky," said the elder twig; "there is blue all round me
instead of green. I see trees that are taller than our hedge a great
deal, and hills that are higher than all. I see white clouds like
pillows, and birds that are lost in the clouds. Ah, I have longed for
this! I feel a great joy and rapture to the end of my smallest leaf!"
"We don't know what you mean," said the younger one, "and there can't
be anything higher than this hedge. And why do you speak so softly? We
cannot hear half that you say."
"Insolent fellow! he is taller than any of us!" cried some of the
twigs; but by this time he was too far off to hear their voices at all.
"I shall have a prize," said the twig to himself, "because I have grown
so tall. What will it be? I will ask the swallow. Swallow, shall I have
a gold crown?"
"No, not a crown," said the swallow, but something as good, I dare say.
Far away down in the country I know of a twig like you. He grew far
away from his fellows--so tall, and so strong, and so fair. He saw the
world and all that was passing. He stretched right over the stile, and
shaded those who sat there. He was painted by an artist, because he
was so lovely. And last of all a fair wild rose came and rested on his
bosom."
"I shall get my reward," said the little twig; "my white rose will come
at last."
Just then there came walking around the garden, the gardener with his
great long shears.
"The hedge is growing uneven," he said; "here's a twig much longer than
the rest."
Clip, clip, clip, went the great big shears, and the tallest twig lay
broken in the dust!
"They are all of one size now, I am glad to see," said the gardener,
and he went away contented to his work.
* * * * *
That very law which moulds the tear,
And bids it trickle from its source,
That law preserves this world a sphere,
And guides the planets in their course!
SAMUEL ROGERS: "TO A TEAR."
[Illustration]