dearly. He thought no woman could be quite as sweet as she was.
Once, at the end of the day, on coming back home, from the hills, the
boy met some lovely children. They were dressed in very fine clothes,
and had elegant manners. They came up, smiled, and invited him to play
with them. He joined in their sports, and was too much interested to
take note of time. He kept on playing with them until it was pitch
dark.
Among other games, which he enjoyed, had been that of "The King in his
counting house, counting out his money," and "The Queen in her
kitchen, eating bread and honey," and "The Girl hanging out the
clothes," and "The Saucy Blackbird that snipped off her nose." In
playing these, the children had aprons full of what seemed to be real
coins, the size of crowns, or five-shilling pieces, each worth a
dollar. These had "head and tail," beside letters on them and the boy
supposed they were real.
But when he showed these to his mother, she saw at once from their
lightness, and because they were so easily bent, that they were only
paper, and not silver.
She asked her boy where he had got them. He told her what a nice time
he had enjoyed. Then she knew that these, his playmates, were fairy
children. Fearing that some evil might come of this, she charged him,
her only son, never to go out again alone, on the mountain. She
mistrusted that no good would come of making such strange children his
companions.
But the lad was so fond of play, that one day, tired of seeing nothing
but byre and garden, while his sisters liked to play girls' games more
than those which boys cared most for, and the hills seeming to beckon
him to come to them, he disobeyed, and slipped out and off to the
mountains. He was soon missed and search was made for him.
Yet nobody had seen or heard of him. Though inquiries were made on
every road, in every village, and at all the fairs and markets in the
neighborhood, two whole years passed by, without a trace of the boy.
But early one morning of the twenty-fifth month, before breakfast, his
mother, on opening the door, found him sitting on the steps, with a
bundle under his arm, but dressed in the same clothes, and not looking
a day older or in any way different, from the very hour he
disappeared.
"Why my dear boy, where have you been, all these months, which have
now run into the third year--so long a time that they have seemed to
me like ages?"
"Why, mother dear, how strange you talk. I left here yesterday, to go
out and to play with the children, on the hills, and we have had a
lovely time. See what pretty clothes they have given me for a
present." Then he opened his bundle.
But when she tore open the package, the mother was all the more sure
that she was right, and that her fears had been justified. In it she
found only a dress of white paper. Examining it carefully, she could
see neither seam nor stitches. She threw it in the fire, and again
warned her son against fairy children.
But pretty soon, after a great calamity had come upon them, both
father and mother changed their minds about fairies.
They had put all their savings into the venture of a ship, which had
for a long time made trading voyages from Cardiff. Every year, it came
back bringing great profit to the owners and shareholders. In this
way, daddy was able to eke out his income, and keep himself, his wife
and daughters comfortably clothed, while all the time the table was
well supplied with good food. Nor did they ever turn from their door
anyone who asked for bread and cheese.
But in the same month of the boy's return, bad news came that the good
ship had gone down in a storm. All on board had perished, and the
cargo was totally lost, in the deep sea, far from land. In fact, no
word except that of dire disaster had come to hand.
Now it was a tradition, as old as the days of King Arthur, that on a
certain hill a great boulder could be seen, which was quite different
from any other kind of rock to be found within miles. It was partly
imbedded in the earth, and beneath it, lay a great, yes, an untold
treasure. The grass grew luxuriantly around this stone, and the sheep
loved to rest at noon in its shadow. Many men had tried to lift, or
pry it up, but in vain. The tradition, unaltered and unbroken for
centuries, was to the effect, that none but a very good man could ever
budge this stone. Any and all unworthy men might dig, or pull, or pry,
until doomsday, but in vain. Till the right one came, the treasure was
as safe as if in heaven.
But the boy's father and mother were now very poor and his sisters now
grown up wanted pretty clothes so badly, that the lad hoped that he or
his father might be the deserving one. He would help him to win the
treasure for he felt sure that his parent would share his gains with
all his friends.
Though his neighbors were not told of the generous intentions credited
to the boy's father, by his loving son, they all came with horses,
ropes, crowbars, and tackle, to help in the enterprise. Yet after many
a long days' toil, between the sun's rising and setting, their end was
failure. Every day, when darkness came on, the stone lay there still,
as hard and fast as ever. So they gave up the task.
On the final night, the lad saw that father and mother, who were great
lovers, were holding each other's hands, while their tears flowed
together, and they were praying for patience.
Seeing this, before he fell asleep, the boy resolved that on the
morrow, he would go up to the mountains, and talk to his fairy friends
about the matter.
So early in the morning, he hurried to the hill tops, and going into
one of the caves, met the fairies and told them his troubles. Then he
asked them to give him again some of their money.
"Not this time, but something better. Under the great rock there are
treasures waiting for you."
"Oh, don't send me there! For all the men and horses of our parish,
after working a week, have been unable to budge the stone."
"We know that," answered the principal fairy, "but do you yourself try
to move it. Then you will see what is certain to happen."
Going home, to tell what he had heard, his parents had a hearty laugh
at the idea of a boy succeeding where men, with the united strength of
many horses and oxen, had failed.
Yet, after brooding awhile, they were so dejected, that anything
seemed reasonable. So they said, "Go ahead and try it."
Returning to the mountain, the fairies, in a band, went with him to
the great rock.
One touch of his hand, and the mighty boulder trembled, like an aspen
leaf in the breeze.
A shove, and the rock rolled down from the hill and crashed in the
valley below.
There, underneath, were little heaps of gold and silver, which the boy
carried home to his parents, who became the richest people in the
country round about.
XII
GIANT TOM AND GIANT BLUBB
Everyone who has read anything of Welsh history--though not of the
sort that is written by English folks--knows also that Cornwall is, in
soul, a part of Wales. Before the Romans, first, and the Saxons, next,
invaded Britain, the Cymric people lived all over the island, south of
Scotland.
They were the British people, and nobody ever heard the German name,
"Wales," which means a foreign land; or the word "Welsh," which refers
to foreigners, until men who were themselves outsiders came into
Britain.
Since that time, it has been much the same, as when a British Jack
Tar, when rambling in Portugal, or China, calls the natives
"foreigners," and tells them to "get out of the way."
Ages ago, when the Cymric men, with their wives and little ones rowed
over in their coracles, from Gallia, or the Summer Land, to Britain,
the Honey Land, they came first to the promontory which we know as
Cornwall; that is, the Cornu Galliae, or Walliae, which means Horn or
Cape of the new country now called England. Here was a new region,
rich in every kind of minerals. Ages before, the Phoenicians had named
it Britain or the Land of Tin. Within the memory of men now living,
Cornishmen, that is, the miners of Cornwall, on going to California,
discovered gold.
In Cornwall, as part of the Cymric realm, King Arthur found and
married Guinevere, his queen. It was in Cornwall, also, that Merlin
was hidden. Hear the rhyme:
Marvelous Merlin is wasted away
By a wicked woman, who may she be?
For she hath pent him in a crag
On Cornwall coast.
So it happens that thousands of "English" people in Cornwall are
Welsh, by both name or descent, or have translated their names into
English form, even while keeping the Welsh meaning. They are also
Welsh in traits of character. Just as tens of thousands of Welsh
folks, among the first settlers of New England and the American
colonies are described in our histories as "English" people.
Now in early Cornwall there were many giants. Some were good but
others were bad. One of these, a right fine fellow, was named Tom, and
the other, a bad one, Blubb. This giant had had twenty wives, and was
awfully cruel. Nobody ever knew what became of the twenty maidens he
had married.
Sometimes people called the big fellow, that lived in a castle, Giant
Blunderbuss, but Blubb was his name for short. He was much taller than
the highest hop pole in Kent. He was made up mostly of head and
stomach, for his chief idea in living was to eat. His skull was as big
as a hogshead, or a push-ball, or a market wagon loaded with carrots.
Indeed, it was strongly suspected by most people that the big bone box
set on his shoulders was as hollow inside as a pumpkin, but that a
cocoanut would hold all the brains he had. At any rate, during one of
his fights with another giant, he had been given an awful thwack from
the other giant's club. Then the sound made, which was heard a long
distance away, was exactly like that when one pounds on an empty
barrel.
Now this Giant Blubb had built a mighty castle between a big hill and
a river. Under it were vaults of vast size, filled with treasures of
all sorts, gold, silver, jewels and gems. There were cells, in which
he kept his wives, after he had married them. It was the opinion of
his neighbors, that in every case, soon after the honeymoon was over,
he ate them up.
Yet, if even the devil ought to have his due; one should be fair to
this human monster, and we are bound to say that Giant Blubb denied
these stories as pure gossip. It is certain that such crimes as murder
and cannibalism never could be proved against him.
To guard his underground treasures, he had two huge and fierce dogs,
supposed to be named Catchem and Tearem. What they were really called
by their master was a secret. Yet anyone who had a piece of meat ready
to throw to them, and knew their names, which were pass words, could
first quiet them. Then he could walk by them and get the treasure.
Besides these dogs, the only living thing left in the castle when the
giant went out, was the latest Mrs. Blubb. Yet she was in constant
fear of her life, lest her big husband should sometime make a meal of
her. For even she had heard the story that Blubb was a cannibal and
looked at all plump women simply as delicacies, exactly as a boy peers
into the window of a candy shop.
What made all the country round hate this cruel giant was not wholly
on account of his awful appetite. It was because he had ruined the
King's High Road. Ever since the time of King Lud, whose name we read
in Ludgate Hill, in London, where His Cymric Majesty had lived, this
highway had been free to all. It ran all the way through Cornwall,
from Penzance, and thence eastward to London and beyond.
When Giant Blubb wished to enlarge his castle, he had the walls and
towers built down to the river's edge. This closed up the big road, so
that people had to go far around and up over the hill, or by boat
along the river. Such a roundabout way took much time and toil, and
was too much trouble for all.
Everybody had to submit to this extortion, until there came along
Giant Tom, of whom we shall now tell. His real name was Rolling Stone,
for he never stuck long in one place at a job, and cared not a
cucumber for money, or fine clothes.
This jolly fellow was very good-natured and popular, but often very
lazy. His mother talked with him many times, urging him to learn a
trade, or in some way make an honest living. She found it very hard to
keep anything in her larder, barn, pantry, or cellar, when he was at
home. He measured four feet across his shoulders and at every meal he
ate what would feed three big men. But as he could do six men's work,
when he had a mind to--as often he did--he was always welcome. In
fact, he was too popular for his own good.
One day, when ten common fellows were trying their utmost to lift a
big long log on a cart, and were unable to do it, Tom came along and
told them to stand back. Then he hoisted the tree on to the wain,
roped it into place, and told the cartman to drive on. Then they all
cheered him, and one of them lifted his Monmouth cap and cried out,
"Hurrah for Giant Tom. He's the fellow to whip Giant Blubb."
"He is! He is!" they all cried in chorus.
"Who is this Giant Blubb? Where does he live?" asked Tom, rolling up
his sleeves, for he was just spoiling for a row with a fellow of his
size.
Then they told the story of how the big bully had ruined the King's
Highway, by building a great wall and tower across the road, to shut
it up, to the grief of many honest men.
"Never mind, boys. I'll attend to his bacon," said Tom. "Leave the
matter with me, and don't bother to tell the King about it."
Tom went the next day into town and hired himself out to a beer brewer
to drive the wagon. Perhaps he hoped, also, while in this occupation,
to keep down his thirst.
He asked the boss to give him the route that led past Giant Blubb's
castle, over the old King's Highway.
The master of the brewery saw through Tom's purpose. He winked, and
only said:
"Go ahead, my boy. I'll pay you double wages, if you will open that
road again; but see that Giant Blubb does not get my load of kegs, or
that your carcass doesn't count with those of the twenty wives in his
vaults and make twenty-one."
Again he winked his eye knowingly to his workmen. Tom drove off. He
occupied all the room on the seat of the cart, which two men usually
filled and left plenty of room on either side.
Cracking his whip, the new driver kept the four horses on a galloping
pace, until very soon he called out "whoa," before the frowning high
gateway of Giant Blubb.
Tom shouted from the depth of his lungs:
"Open the gate and let me drive through. This is the King's Highway."
The only reply, for a minute, was the barking of the curs. Then a
rattling of bolts was heard, and the great gates swung wide open.
"Who are you, you impudent fellow? Go round over the hill, or I'll
thrash you," blustered Giant Blubb, in a rage.
"Better save your breath to cool your porridge, you big boaster, and
come out and fight," said Tom.
"Fight? You pigmy. I'll just get a switch and whip you, as I would a
bad boy."
Thereupon Giant Blubb stepped aside into the grove nearby, keeping all
the while an eye on his gate, guarded by his two monstrous dogs. He
selected an elm tree twenty feet high, tore it up by the roots, pulled
off the branches, and peeled it for a whip. This he jerked up and down
to make ready for his task of thrashing "the pigmy."
Meanwhile Giant Tom upset the wain, drew out the tongue and took off
one of the wheels. Then, as if armed with spear and shield, he
advanced to meet Giant Blubb. He whistled like a boy, as he went
forward.
In a passion of rage, Giant Blubb lifted his elm switch to strike, but
Tom warded off the blow with his wheel shield. Then he punched him in
the stomach, with the wagon tongue, so hard that the big fellow
slipped and rolled over in the mud:
Picking himself up, Giant Blubb, now half blind with rage, rushed
against Tom, who, this time, made a lunge which planted the cart
tongue inside Blubb's bowels, and knocked him over.
But Tom was not a cruel fellow, and had no desire to kill anyone. So
he threw down his war tools, and tearing up a yard or two of grassy
sod rolled it together, and made a plug of it, as big around as a milk
churn. With this, he stopped up the big hole in Giant Blubb's huge
body.
But instead of thanking Tom, Giant Blubb rushed at him again. He was
in too much of a rage to see anything clearly, while Tom, perfectly
cool, gave the angry monster such a kick, in the place where he kept
his dinner, that he rolled over, and Tom gave him another kick. Then
the plug of sod fell out of his wound.
As he was bleeding to death, Giant Blubb beckoned to Tom to come up
close, for he could only whisper.
"You've beaten me on the square, and I like you. Don't think I killed
my twenty wives. They all died naturally. But call the dogs by name,
and they will let you pass. Then, in my vaults, you'll find gold,
silver, and copper. Make these your own and bury me decently. This is
all I ask."
Tom made himself owner of the castle and all its treasures. He opened
the King's Highway again. He took care of his aged mother, married the
twenty-first wife of Giant Blubb, now a widow, and was always kind to
the sick and poor.
To-day in Cornwall, they still tell stories of the big fellow who
abolished Giant Blubb's toll gate.
Centuries afterward, when Christ's gospel came into the land, they
restored Giant Tom's tomb and on it were chiseled these words:
THE RESTORER OF PATHS TO DWELL IN.
XIII
A BOY THAT VISITED FAIRYLAND
Many are the places in Wales where the ground is lumpy and humpy with
tumuli, or little artificial mounds. Among these the sheep graze, the
donkeys bray, and the cows chew the cud.
Here the ground is strewn with the ruins of cromlechs, or Cymric
strongholds, of old Roman camps, of chapels and monasteries, showing
that many different races of men have come and gone, while the birds
still fly and the flowers bloom.
Centuries ago, the good monks of St. David had a school where lads
were taught Latin and good manners. One of their pupils was a boy
named Elidyr. He was such a poor scholar and he so hated books and
loved play, that in his case spankings and whippings were almost of
daily occurrence. Still he made no improvement. He was in the habit
also of playing truant, or what one of the monks called "traveling to
Bagdad." One of the consequences was that certain soft parts of his
body--apparently provided by nature for this express purpose--often
received a warming from his daddy.
His mother loved her boy dearly, and she often gently chided him, but
he would not listen to her, and when she urged him to be more
diligent, he ran out of the room. The monks did not spare the birch
rod, and soon it was a case of a whipping for every lesson not
learned.
One day, though he was only twelve years old, the boy started on a
long run into the country. The further he got, the happier he felt--at
least for one day.
At night, tired out, he crept into a cave. When he woke up, in the
morning, he thought it was glorious to be as free as the wild asses.
So like them, he quenched his thirst at the brook. But when, towards
noon, he could find nothing to eat, and his inside cavity seemed to
enlarge with very emptiness, his hunger grew every minute. Then he
thought that a bit of oat cake, a leek, or a bowl of oat meal, whether
porridge or flummery, might suit a king.
He dared not go out far and pick berries, for, by this time, he saw
that people were out searching for him. He did not feel yet, like
going back to books, rods and scoldings, but the day seemed as long as
a week. Meanwhile, he discovered that he had a stomach, which seemed
to grow more and more into an aching void. He was glad when the sunset
and darkness came. His bed was no softer in the cave, as he lay down
with a stone for his pillow. Yet he had no dreams like those of Jacob
and the angels.
When daylight came, the question in his mind was still, whether to
stay and starve, or to go home and get two thrashings--one from his
daddy, and another from the monks. But how about that thing inside of
him, which seemed to be a live creature gnawing away, and which only
something to eat would quiet? Finally, he came to a stern resolve. He
started out, ready to face two whippings, rather than one death by
starvation.
But he did not have to go home yet, for at the cave's mouth, he met
two elves, who delivered a most welcome message.
"Come with us to a land full of fun, play, and good things to eat."
All at once, his hunger left him and he forgot that he ever wanted to
swallow anything. All fear, or desire to go home, or to risk either
schooling or a thrashing, passed away also.
Into a dark passage all three went, but they soon came out into a
beautiful country. How the birds sang and the flowers bloomed! All
around could be heard the joyful shouts of little folks at play. Never
did things look so lovely.
[Illustration: THE KING SPOKE KINDLY TO ELIDYR, ASKING HIM WHO HE WAS]
Soon, in front of the broad path along which they were traveling,
there rose up before him a glorious palace. It had a splendid gateway,
and the silver-topped towers seemed to touch the blue sky.
"What building is this?" asked the lad of his two guides.
They made answer that it was the palace of the King of Fairyland. Then
they led him into the throne room, where, sat in golden splendor, a
king, of august figure and of majestic presence, who was clad in
resplendent robes. He was surrounded by courtiers in rich apparel, and
all about him was magnificence, such as this boy, Elidyr, had never
even read about or dreamed.
Yet everything was so small that it looked like Toy Land, and he felt
like a giant among them, even though many of the little men around him
were old enough to have whiskers on their cheeks and beards on their
chins.
The King spoke kindly to Elidyr, asking him who he was, and whence he
had come.
While talking thus, the Prince, the King's only son appeared. He was
dressed in white velvet and gold, and had a long feather in his cap.
In the pleasantest way, he took Elidyr's hand and said:
"Glad to see you. Come and let us play together."
That was just what Elidyr liked to hear. The King smiled and said to
his visitor, "You will attend my son?" Then, with a wave of his hand,
he signified to the boys to run out and play games.
A right merry time they did have, for there were many other little
fellows for playmates.
These wee folks, with whom Elidyr played, were hardly as big as our
babies, and certainly would not reach up to his mother's knee. To
them, he looked like a giant, and he richly enjoyed the fun of having
such little men, but with beards growing on their faces, look up to
him.
They played with golden balls, and rode little horses, with silver
saddles and bridles, but these pretty animals were no larger than
small dogs, or grayhounds.
No meat was ever seen on the table, but always plenty of milk. They
never told a lie, nor used bad language, or swear-words. They often
talked about mortal men, but usually to despise them; because what
they liked to do, seemed so absurd and they always wanted foolish and
useless things. To the elves, human beings were never satisfied, or
long happy, even when they got what they wanted.
Everything in this part of fairyland was lovely, but it was always
cloudy. No sun, star or moon was ever seen, yet the little men did not
seem to mind it and enjoyed themselves every day. There was no end of
play, and that suited Elidyr.
Yet by and by, he got tired even of games and play, and grew very
homesick. He wanted to see his mother. So he asked the King to let him
visit his old home. He promised solemnly to come back, after a few
hours. His Majesty gave his permission, but charged him not to take
with him anything whatever from fairyland, and to go with only the
clothes on his back.
The same two elves or dwarfs, who had brought him into fairyland, were
chosen to conduct him back. When they had led him again through the
underground passage into the sunlight, they made him invisible until
he arrived at his mother's cottage. She was overjoyed to find that no
wolf had torn him to pieces, or wild bull had pushed him over a
precipice.
She asked him many questions, and he told her all he had seen, felt,
or known.
When he rose up to go, she begged him to stay longer, but he said he
must keep his word. Besides, he feared the rod of the monks, or his
daddy, if he remained. So he made his mother agree not to tell
anything--not even to his father, as to where he was, or what he was
doing. Then he made off and reported again to his playmates in
fairyland.