said the god-mother, and, touching another spring, there instantly
sounded a lively air, which would wake the soundest sleeper and make
him skip gayly out of bed.
In the second room was a bath, so large that it looked like a shallow
lake. A pretty marble child stood blowing bubbles in the middle, and
pink and white shells, made of soap, lay along the brim. The pool was
lined with soft sponges, and heaps of towels were scattered about, so
that while the little folks splashed and romped they got finely washed
and wiped before they knew it.
In the third room stood a long table, surrounded by low chairs, so no
one could tip over. Two rows of bright silver porringers shone down
the table; a fountain of milk played in the middle, and on a little
railway, that ran round the table, went mimic cars loaded with bread,
funny donkeys with panniers of berries on either side, and small men
and women carrying trays of seed-cakes, gingerbread, and all the
goodies that children may safely eat. Thus every one got quickly and
quietly served, and meals would be merry-makings, not scenes of noise
and confusion, as is often the case where many little mouths are to be
filled.
The fourth room was larger than any of the others, being meant for both
work and play. The wails were all pictures, which often changed,
showing birds, beasts, and flowers, every country, and the history of
the world; so one could study many things, you see. The floor was
marked out for games of all kinds, and quantities of toys lay ready for
the little hands that till now had owned so few. On one side long
windows opened into the gardens, and on the other were recesses full of
books to study and to read.
At first, the poor children could only look and sigh for happiness,
finding it hard to believe that all this comfort could be meant for
them. But the god-mother soon made them feel that this was home, for,
gathering them tenderly about her, she said,--
"Dear little creatures, you have had no care, no love or happiness, all
your short, sad lives; but now you are mine, and here you shall soon
become the blithest, busiest children ever seen. Come, now, and splash
in this fine pond; then we will have supper and play, and then to bed,
for to-morrow will be a long holiday for all of us."
As she spoke, the children's rags vanished, and they sprang into the
bath, eager to pick up the pretty shells and see the marble child, who,
smiling, blew great bubbles that sailed away over their heads.
Great was the splashing and loud the laughter as the little people
floated in the warm pool and romped among the towel-cocks, while the
god-mother, in a quiet corner, bathed the sick and bound up the hurts
of those whom cruel hands had wounded.
As fast as the children were washed, they were surprised to find
themselves clothed all in a minute in pretty, comfortable suits, that
pleased their eyes, and yet were not too fine for play. Soon a ring of
happy faces shone round the table. The fountain poured its milky
stream into every porringer, the mimic cars left their freight at each
place, the donkeys trotted, and the little market-men and women tripped
busily up and down, while the god-mother went tapping about, putting on
bibs, helping the shy ones, and feeding the babies who could not feed
themselves. When all were satisfied, the fountain ceased to play, the
engine let off steam, the donkeys kicked up their heels to empty the
panniers, the bibs folded themselves up, the porringers each turned a
somerset and came down clean, and all was ready for breakfast.
Then the children played for an hour in the lovely play-room, often
stopping to wonder if they wouldn't presently wake up and find it all a
dream. Lest they should get quite wild with excitement, the god-mother
soon led them to the great bedroom, and ordered on the caps and gowns,
which was done before the children could wink. Then she taught them
the little prayer all children love, and laid them in their cosey beds,
with a good-night kiss for each. The lullaby-flute began to play,
weary eyelids to close, and soon a hundred happy little souls lay fast
asleep in the Children's Home.
For a long time the old lady let her family do nothing but enjoy
themselves. Every morning they were led out into the meadow like a
flock of lambs, there to frisk all day with their healthful playmates,
sun and air, green grass, and exercise, for, being a wise woman, she
left them to the magic of a better nurse than herself, and Nature, the
dear god-mother of the world, did her work so well that soon no one
would have known the rosy, happy troop for the forlorn little creatures
who had come there.
Then the old lady was satisfied, and said to herself,--
"Now they may work a little, else they will learn to love idleness.
What shall I give them to do that will employ their hands, make them
happy, and be of use to others?"
Now, like many other excellent old ladies, the god-mother had a pet
idea, and it was _pinafores_. In her day all children wore them, were
simply dressed, healthy, gay, and good. At the present time foolish
mothers dressed their little ones like dolls, and the poor things were
half-smothered with finery. At home there was a constant curling and
brushing, tying of sashes and fussing with frills, abroad there was no
fun, for hats, top-heavy with feathers, burdened their heads, fine
cloaks and coats were to be taken care of, smart boots, in which they
couldn't run, were on their feet, and dainty little gloves prevented
their ever making dear dirt-pies. Very cross and fretful were the poor
little people made by all this, though they hardly knew what the matter
was, and the foolish mammas wondered and sighed, sent for Dr. Camomile,
and declared there were never seen such naughty children before.
"Put on pinafores, and let them romp at their ease, and you will mend
all this," said the god-mother, who knew everybody.
But the fine ladies were shocked, and cried out: "My dear madam, it is
impossible, for pinafores are entirely out of fashion," and there it
ended.
But the old lady never gave up her idea, and when she had successfully
tried it with her large family, she felt sure that much of the health
and happiness of children lay in big, sensible pinafores and plenty of
freedom.
"I'll show them the worth of my idea," she said, as she sat thinking,
with her eyes on the blue flax-fields shining in the sun. "These poor
children shall help the rich ones, who never helped them, and we will
astonish the city by the miracles we'll work."
With that she clapped her hands, and in a minute the room was filled
with little looms and spinning-wheels, thimbles and needles, reels for
winding thread, and all necessary tools for the manufacture of fairy
pinafores. She could have wished for them already made, but she
thought it better to teach the children some useful lessons, and keep
them busy as well as happy.
Soon they were all at work, and no one was awkward or grew tired, for
the wheels and looms were enchanted; so, though the boys and girls knew
nothing of the matter when they began, they obeyed the old lady, who
said,--
"A good will
Giveth skill,"
and presently were spinning and weaving, reeling and sewing, as if they
had done nothing else all their lives.
Many days they worked, with long play spells between, and at last there
lay a hundred wonderful pinafores before their eyes. Each was white as
snow, smooth as satin, and all along the hem there shone a child-name
curiously woven in gold or silver thread. But the charm of these
"pinnies," as the children called them, was that they would never tear,
get soiled, or wear out, but always remain as white and smooth and new
as when first made, for they were woven of fairy flax. Another fine
thing was that whoever wore one would grow gentle and good, for the
friendly little weavers and spinners had put so much love and good-will
into their work that it got into the pinafores and would never come
out, but shone in the golden border, and acted like a charm on the
childish hearts the aprons covered.
Very happy were the little people as they saw the pile grow higher and
higher, for they knew what they were doing, and wondered who would wear
each one.
"Now," said the god-mother, "which of my good children shall go to the
city and sell our pinnies?"
"Send Babie, she is the best and has worked harder than all the rest,"
answered the children, and little Barbara quite blushed to be so
praised.
"Yes, she shall go," said the god-mother, as she began to lay the
aprons in a little old-fashioned basket.
As soon as the children saw it, they gathered about it like a swarm of
bees, exclaiming,--
"See! see! it is Red Riding-Hood's little basket in which she carried
the pot of butter. Dear grandma, where did you get it?"
"The excellent old lady whom the wolf ate up was a friend of mine, and
after that sad affair I kept it to remember her by, my dears. It is an
immortal basket, and all children love it, long to peep into it, and
would give much to own it."
"What am I to do?" asked Babie, as the god-mother hung the basket on
her arm.
"Go to the Royal Park, my dear, where all the young lords and ladies
walk; stand by the great fountain, and when any children ask about the
basket, tell them they may put in their hands and take what they find
for a silver penny. They will gladly pay it, but each must kiss the
penny and give it with a kind word, a friendly wish, before they take
the pinnies. When all are sold, lay the silver pennies in the
sunshine, and whatever happens, be sure that it is what I wish. Go,
now, and tell no one where you come from nor why you sell your wares."
Then Babie put on her little red cloak, took the basket on her arm, and
went away toward the city, while her playmates called after her,--
"Good luck! good-by! Come home soon and tell us all about it!"
When she came to the great gate, she began to fear she could not get
in, for, though she had often peeped between the bars and longed to
play with the pretty children, the guard had always driven her away,
saying it was no place for her. Now, however, when she came up, the
tall sentinel was so busy looking at her basket that he only stood
smiling to himself, as if some pleasant recollection was coming back to
him, and said slowly,--
"Upon my word, I think I must be asleep and dreaming, for there's
little Red Riding-Hood come again. The wolf is round the corner, I
dare say, Run in, my dear, run in before he comes; and I'll give the
cowardly fellow the beating I've owed him ever since I was a boy."
Babie laughed, and slipped through the gate so quickly that the guard
rubbed his eyes, looked about him, and said,--
"Yes, yes, I thought I was asleep. Very odd that I should dream of the
old fairy-tale I haven't read this twenty years."
In a green nook near the great fountain, Babie placed herself, looking
like a pretty picture with her smiling face, bright eyes, and curly
hair blowing in the wind. Presently little Princess Bess came running
by to hide from her maid, of whom she was sadly tired. When she saw
Babie, she forgot every thing else, and cried out,--
"O the pretty basket! I must have it. Will you sell it, little girl?"
"No, my lady, for it isn't mine; but if you like to pay a silver penny,
you may put in your hand and take what you find."
"Will it be the little pot of butter?" said the Princess, as she pulled
out her purse.
"A much more useful and wonderful thing than that, my lady. Something
that will never spoil nor wear out, but keep you always good and happy
while you wear it," answered Babie.
"That's splendid! Take the penny, lift the lid, and let me see," cried
Bess.
"First kiss it, with a kind word, a friendly wish, please, my lady; for
these are fairy wares, and can be had in no other way," said Babie.
Princess Bess tossed her head at this, but she wanted the fairy gift,
so she kissed the silver penny said the word, and wished the wish; then
in went her hand and out came the white pinafore, with a golden Bess
shining all along the hem, and little crowns embroidered on the sleeves.
"O the pretty thing! Put it on, put it on before Primmins comes, else
she won't let me wear it," cried the princess, throwing her hat and
cloak on the grass, and hurrying on the pinafore.
She clapped her hands and danced about as if bewitched, for on each
corner of the apron hung a tiny silver bell, which rang such a merry
peal it made one dance and sing to hear it. Suddenly she stood quite
still, while a soft look came into her face, as all the pride and
wilfulness faded away. She touched the smooth, white pinafore, looked
down at the golden name, listened to the fairy bells, and in that
little pause seemed to become another child; for presently she put her
arms round Babie's neck and kissed her, quite forgetting that one was a
king's daughter and the other a beggar child.
"Dear little girl, thank you very much for my lovely pinny. Wait here
till I call my playmates, that they too may buy your fairy wares."
Away she ran, and was soon back again with a troop of children so gayly
dressed they looked like a flock of butterflies. The maids came with
them, and all crowded about the wonderful basket, pushing and
screaming, for these fine children had not fine manners. Babie was
rather frightened, but Bess stood by her and rang her little bells, so
that all stopped to listen. One by one each paid the penny, with the
friendly word and wish, and then drew out the magic pinafore, which
always showed the right name. The maids were so much interested when
they learned that these aprons made their wearers good, that they
gladly put them on; for, having gold and silver woven in them, the fine
linen was not thought too plain for such noble little people to wear.
How they all changed as the pinnies went on! No more screaming,
pushing, or fretting; only smiling faces, gentle voices, and the blithe
ringing of the fairy bells. The poor maids almost cried for joy, they
were so tired of running after naughty children; and every thing looked
so gay that people stopped to peep at the pretty group in the Royal
Park.
When the last apron was sold, Babie told them that something strange
was going to happen, and they might see it if they liked. So they made
a wide ring round a sunny spot where she had laid the hundred silver
pennies. Presently from each coin sprang a little pair of wings; on
one the kind word, on the other the friendly wish that had been uttered
over them, and, lifted by their magic, the pennies rose into the air
like a flock of birds, and flew away over the tree-tops, shining as
they went.
All the children were so eager to see where they would alight that they
ran after. No one stumbled, no one fell, though they followed through
crowded streets and down among strange places where they had never been
before. All the maids ran after the children, and the stately papas
and mammas followed the maids, quite distracted by the strange behavior
of their children and servants. A curious sight it was, and the city
was amazed, but the pennies flew on till they came to a bleak and
barren spot, where many poor children tried to play in the few pale
rays of sunshine that crept between the tall roofs that stood so
thickly crowded on every side. Here the pennies folded their wings and
fell like a silver shower, to be welcomed by cries of joy and wonder by
the ragged children.
The poor mothers and fathers left their work to go and see the sight,
and were as much amazed to find a crowd of fine people as the fine
people were to see them; for, though they had heard of each other, they
had never met, and did not know how sad was the contrast between them.
No one knew what to do at first, it was all so strange and new. But
the magic that had got into the pinafores began to work, and soon
Princess Bess was seen emptying her little purse among the poor
children. The other boys and girls began at once to do the same, then
the fine ladies felt their hearts grow pitiful, and they looked kindly
at the poor, sad-faced women as they spoke friendly words and promised
help. At sight of this, the lords and gentlemen were ashamed to be
outdone by their wives children, and the heavy purses came out when the
little ones failed, till all about the dreary place there was played a
beautiful new game called "give away."
No one ever knew who did it, but, as the city clock struck noon, all
the bells in all the steeples began to ring, and the tune they played
was the same blithe one the little bells had chimed. Other wonders
happened, for as the clear peal went sounding through the air the sun
came glancing through all manner of chinks never seen before, and shone
warm and bright upon the rich and poor standing together like one
family. The third wonder was that when the fine folk came to put their
purses back into their pockets, they were fuller than before, because
for every bit of money given away there were two in its place, shining
brighter than any gold, and marked with a little cross.
This was the beginning, but it would take a long time to tell all the
good done by the fairy pinafores. Nobody guessed they were at the
bottom of the changes which came about, but people thought some
blessing had befallen the children, so blooming, good, and gay did they
become. Busied with their own affairs, the older people would have
forgotten the poor folk and the promises made them, if the children had
not reminded them. Some little girl who wore a fairy pinny would climb
into her mother's lap and say,--
"Mamma, I'm tired of my dolls; I want to make some clothes for the
ragged children we saw the day I bought my pretty pinafore. Will you
show me how?"
Then the mother would kiss the little face she loved so well, and give
the child her wish, finding much happiness in seeing the comfortable
suits go on, and receiving the thanks of less fortunate women; for
motherly hearts are the same under rags and silk. The boys, though
small fellows, were never tired of playing the new game with silver
pennies, and made their fathers play with them, till many men who began
it to please the little lads went on for the love of charity.
Princess Bess ordered the Park gates to stand open for the poor as well
as the rich, and soon one could hardly tell the difference; for the
poor children were comfortably clothed, and the foolish mammas, finding
their little sons and daughters grew rosy strong, and happy in the
plain pinafores, grew wiser, and left off fretting them with useless
finery, finding that their own innocent gayety and beauty were their
sweetest ornaments, and learning that the good old fashion of
simplicity was the best for all.
Things were prospering in this way when news of the fairy pinafores
reached the old king. He seldom troubled himself about matters, but
when he read accounts of the kind things his people were doing, he was
so much interested that he forgot his nap, and the queen counted her
stitches all amiss while listening. Cinderella and the Prince heard of
it also, and felt quite reproached that they had forgotten every one
but themselves. It was talked of at court, and everybody wished
pinafores for their children; but the unknown child with the famous
basket had vanished no one knew whither.
At last, after searching through the city, a sentinel was found who
remembered seeing Babie come in from the country. When the king heard
this, he ordered his carriage, the old queen put by her work to go with
him, and the Prince with Cinderella got into the famous pumpkin coach,
for they too wished to see the wonderful child.
Away they drove, followed by their lords and ladies, through the wood,
and there beyond they saw the Children's Home. Full of curiosity, yet
fearing to alarm the dwellers in that quiet place, every one alighted
and went softly toward the house.
Every thing was so still and pleasant, all were charmed, and felt as if
a spell were falling on them. When the court gentlemen heard the song
of the birds overhead, they felt ashamed of the foolish speeches they
were making; when the fine ladies saw the flowers blooming in the
little gardens, their gay dresses seemed less beautiful; the old king
and queen felt quite young and lively all at once, and Cinderella and
her Prince longed for another race, such as they had when the glass
slipper was lost.
Presently they found a little lad reading in the sun, and of him the
king asked many questions. The child, forgetting that the god-mother
wished to remain unknown, told all she had done, and bade them look in
at the window, and see if what he said was not true. Every one peeped,
and there they saw the children sitting at the looms and wheels
motionless; for the dear old lady had fallen fast asleep, and no one
stirred lest they should wake her Like a room full of breathing,
smiling images they sat, and, as the heads came at the windows, all
looked up and whispered, "Hush!" like a soft wind sighing through the
place.
Cinderella, who dearly loved her god-mother, felt reproached that she
had done so little while the good old lady had done so much, and,
stepping in, she began to stitch away on one of the new set of
pinafores which they were making. At that, the lively young Prince
skipped in after her, and, whisking a small boy out of his seat before
a loom, began to weave with all his might; for, as the old lady said,--
"A good will
Giveth skill."
"I'll not be outdone by those children!" cried the king, and began
briskly winding the thread which hung on blind Nanny's outstretched
hands.
"Neither will I, my dear!" returned the queen, and whipping on her
spectacles she cut out a pinafore on the spot.
After that, of course, every one else came rushing in, and soon all the
wheels buzzed, looms jangled, needles flew, and scissors snipped, while
the children stood by smiling at the sight of the fine folks working as
if for their lives.
The noise woke the god-mother, who understood the matter at once, and
was glad to see things in such good train. As she wished to say a
word, she gave a smart tap with her staff, and every one stopped but
the king, who was so busy winding his thread that he kept on till the
skein was done, when he patted Nanny on the head, saying, in such a
brisk tone his people hardly knew him for the lazy old king,--
"There, I feel better for that. We'll do another presently, my fine
little girl." Then he nodded to the god-mother with twinkling eyes,
for being a fairy he respected her very much. She nodded back at him,
and said gravely,--
"Your majesty is very welcome, and I am glad you have waked up at last.
Don't fall asleep again, but go and make homes for all your poor, so
that when you do fall asleep for the last time you will leave your son
as happy a kingdom as you have found here. And you, my dear
Cinderella, remember this: let your children be children while they
may, and be sure they all wear pinafores."
VI.
MAMMA'S PLOT.
"It's the meanest thing I ever heard of, and I won't bear it!" cried
Kitty, sitting down on her half-packed trunk, with a most rebellious
expression.
"You must, my dear: it is the rule of the school, and you must submit.
I'm very sorry, for I expected great comfort and pleasure from your
little letters; but if madam has to read and correct them all, of
course they will be compositions, and not particularly interesting,"
said mamma, with a sigh, as she folded up the small garments as
tenderly as if her little girl had been inside of them.
"I didn't mind much about it when I read the rules, but now that I'm
really going it seems like a prison; and I shall be just wild to tell
you every thing. How can I, if that old lady has got to see what I
write? I know I shan't like the food, and I can't ask you to send me
any goodies without her knowing it. If I'm homesick, I shall want to
tell you, and of course there will be lots of funny things you'd enjoy,
but for this disgusting rule. I do declare I won't go!" and Kitty cast
her new boots sternly on the floor.
"Yes, you will, Puss, because papa and I want you to. This is an
excellent school; old-fashioned in some things, and I like it for that,
though this rule is not a wise one, I fancy. You must do the best you
can, and perhaps madam won't be very particular about what you write to
me, if you are a good child."
"I know she will. I saw fussiness in her face. She's sure to be
strict and prim, and I shall be so miserable." Here Kitty began to cry
over her woes.