IN WHICH, FOR THE FIRST TIME IN A LONG TIME, I DO NOT TALK AT ALL,
BUT AM WELL CONTENT TO SIT QUIETLY BY AND LISTEN TO THE LOVELY NEWS
THAT L. H. D., WHO, YOU WILL REMEMBER, I TOLD YOU ABOUT IN THE
PREFACE, HAS BROUGHT
One gloriously sunny morning Liza opened her grey eyes wide, yawned,
and decided that she would really stay awake and consider the business
of the day. She sat up in her little crib, looking adorably pink and
white and very huggable, with her tousled golden curls playing hide
and seek with each other on her neck. Across the room, in her own bed,
still sound asleep, lay Martha Mary.
“Sister Lazy Bones,” thought Butterfly, and wondered how anyone could
want to sleep when Mr. Cock Robin was singing such a splendid song in
the vines at the windows. Liza looked around the room expectantly,
then the corners of her mouth drooped pitifully, and a big tear rolled
down her cheek. For where was Mother Dear this beautiful morning? Never
before, as long as Liza could remember, had she failed to find Mother
bending over her when she awakened, with a big kiss waiting in the
corner of her mouth for her baby daughter.
Just at that minute, luckily, Nurse Huggins came in, smiling, oh, so
happily! Liza, of course, just couldn’t help smiling, too, though she
had not any idea at all why she was so glad.
“Please,” said she, “where’s my Muvver Dear?”
(She never took time to say Mother quite distinctly, though she really
could if she wanted to.)
Nurse just laughed mysteriously, in the annoying way that grown-ups
sometimes have, kissed the little Butterfly, and bade her get quickly
into her wrapper and slippers. By this time Martha Mary was awake,
too, and following Liza’s example. In another moment the two children
were standing before Mother Dear’s door, which was very quietly
opened from the inside by a brown-eyed lady, dressed all in white,
whom they had never seen before. Mother lay in the big, four-poster
bed, looking a little pale and a little tired, but oh, so “smily.”
Right next to her was a little cradle, all blue lace and ribbons, and
inside-- Guess what! There was a baby, a teeny, tiny bit of a one, all
red and wrinkled, and not half so big as Liza’s doll. At first Martha
Mary could only look from the big bed to the cradle and then back
again. Then, when they realized what a wonderful present Mother Dear
had given them, they nearly smothered her with kisses. No one said a
word, because, you see, when a person is really and truly happy they
can’t talk much because of the choky feeling in their throat. But after
Martha Mary and Liza had each touched the crumpled rose-leaf hands of
the new baby, and looked into its tiny face.
“Please,” said Mary, “is it a sister or a brother?”
Mother laughed, then,--she just couldn’t help it. How silly she had
been not to have told them!
“It’s a sister, Ladykin Dear,” said Father, who came into the room just
in time to hear the question. “And she is just as glad to see you as
you are to see her, only she sleeps so much that she hasn’t time to
tell you so, herself.”
While Father was speaking Liza’s eyes had grown very wide indeed, for
the tiny sister had yawned, then opened her eyes, and was looking
straight at Liza.
“Muvver Dear! Father!” said she excitedly, “she is going to talk to
me.” Then Butterfly’s golden curls, which just reached to the top of
the cradle, bent over anxiously toward the little bald head of the new
baby. No one spoke for at least a minute, which was evidently long
enough for Miss Little Sister to deliver her message, for at the end
of that time, away flew Liza across the room like a little sunbeam,
dancing and singing,
“I know a secret I won’t tell you,
Sister told me and it is true.”
No amount of begging on the part of Martha Mary could persuade Liza to
tell what the little stranger had said. I am sorry to say that Mary
felt just the least bit jealous, for she didn’t see why Liza should be
the only person in the family to know such wonderful things. Just as
the two children were leaving the room, Liza went over to the big bed,
took Mother Dear’s hand and kissed it.
“Baby says her name’s ‘Midge,’” said Butterfly. “That is part of the
secret.”
Everyone smiled and was glad.
“Well,” said Father, “Midge it shall be, although her really, truly
name is to be ‘Margaret,’ just like Mother’s.”
Liza’s eyes fairly danced with delight at the news, and Martha Mary had
to keep a very tight hold on her lips, so as not to shout how happy she
was, and so awaken Miss Midge.
No one could seem to eat any breakfast that morning, though there
were delicious berries from the garden, with mush, and new-laid
eggs, and the thickest cream that Cow Bess could give. The boys had
been introduced to Miss Margaret Sherman, the second, while Liza and
Martha Mary were dressing, so it was small wonder that with the new
addition to the family to discuss the importance of such an every-day
occurrence as breakfast faded to almost nothing.
“She’s not so much,” said Walter, with a rather disgusted look, while
he balanced a raspberry on the end of his fork. “Little bit of a red
thing without any hair at all! and, do you know, it hasn’t even a
single tooth.”
“Well, supposing it hasn’t,” said John, his pride very much hurt at the
idea of a sister of his not being perfect, “it’s much happier without
them, I’m sure. Doesn’t have to bother with any old dentist.”
“John! Walter! How can you?” said Martha Mary, almost in tears. “You
are simply hateful to talk like that about the loveliest baby there
ever was. You ask Miss Mason if she isn’t. I heard her tell Father that
Midge was a ‘perfectly normal child,’ and although it sounds awful, he
looked so happy that I know it must be something nice.”
“But where did she come from, my Sister Midge Margaret?” said Liza, who
had been perfectly still ever since she had left Mother Dear’s room. No
one knew, but Edward Lee suggested that they find Flip, and perhaps
he could tell them. So away they all scampered, but not a trace of him
could they find. Just as they were about to give up, Liza spied him way
down in the sunken garden, his arms full of baby roses which he had
gathered for the baby in the house who looked so like a rose herself.
The children had never before seen him look so happy, except the day
that Jane came and his book was accepted. So, of course, they knew it
would be easy to get him to tell a story. Martha Mary took his hand and
patted it and said:
“Please, Flip, we would like a really and truly story about Margaret.”
Flip was delighted and said he had intended to tell one, anyway, and
was coming to look for them.
“For,” said he, “I am very, very happy to-day, Ladykin Dear, so you
shall have the nicest story I know how to tell.”
And this is what he told them--the story of Little Sister Margaret:
“Did you ever wonder, Children,” he began, “when you look at the sky at
night, and see the millions of fairy stars twinkling and dancing up
there, just why they are so bright and happy? Well, I’ll tell you the
reason. It is the most wonderfullest secret there ever was, and the
only people who are allowed to know it are the ones who love the star
children very much.”
“I do,” said Liza. “Please tell me!”
“Me, too--and Me--and Me--and Me,” came in chorus from the others.
“Now,” Flip continued, “you all know that everybody and everything in
the world must have some use, no matter how little it may be. It is
just the same in Star-land, though most silly people never think what
the little twinkling lights are for. Do you know that every single
one of them, down to the teeniest, tiniest baby, that you can hardly
see, is a world of loveliness all by itself? There is the Rose Star,
where gloriously deep red roses, and little shy yellow buds and pink
lady-roses grow, and the air is sweeter than the sweetest perfume you
can imagine. Then there is the Forget-me-not Star, all covered with
the little blue flowers that look like Sister Margaret’s eyes; and
the Violet Star, and Pansy Land, and Sun Flower Place (very large and
important) and heaps and heaps of other flower stars whose names I
have forgotten. Of course there is Fairy Story Star, too, where Puss in
Boots, and Little Red Riding Hood, and Cinderella, and Jack the Giant
Killer, and all the rest of them live. Right near IT is the Grown-Up
Book Star, where there are so very many people that they never get time
to know each other. But the most important star, outside, of course,
of the Music Land Star and the Bird Star where the loveliest of songs
come from, and really, even more important than them, is--guess who!
Butterfly Dear!”
“Lady Rumdidoodledum,” said Liza, without even stopping to think.
“Right,” said Flip, “and that is just whom I am going to tell you
about.”
“But I thought it was to be about baby sister,” said Martha Mary,
rather disappointedly, for she really could think of nothing else this
morning.
“It is about them both, Impatient,” answered Flip.
“You see, since Lady Rumdidoodledum is the biggest and brightest and
happiest star of them all, she must of course have something very nice
to make her so glad. Now, what do you suppose it would be that is even
lovelier than all the loveliest flowers or books, or birds, or anything
else that you can think of?”
“Give up,” said Walter, although everyone was much too busy listening
to Flip to pay any attention.
“I know,” said Martha Mary, her eyes shining. “It’s Babies.”
“Exactly, Ladykin Dear,” answered Flip. “Lady Rumdidoodledum is the
Baby Star, and she shines specially for little children all over the
world. I must tell you about her. There are oodles and oodles of babies
living there, creeping and laughing and cooing all day. They are happy
as happy can be, for they have the most adorable little playmates that
you ever saw. They are little fairy creatures, scarcely as large as
Martha Mary’s finger-nails, and they live in the soft, silky green
centers of eucalyptus blossoms. When a Mother down here on the earth
wants a little boy child or girl child very badly, she goes out
into the woods and picks a eucalyptus blossom. Then, if she is very
wise she opens it, whispers her wish, and lets out the tiny creature
inside, who flies away up beyond the clouds in the gentle arms of the
Southeast wind, straight to Lady Rumdidoodledum. There, the first
thing the little fairy-person sees is a big silver cloud. She goes
right through it, for she is both a fairy and a dream and can do many
wonderful things. Right there, who do you think is waiting? A smiling
Mother-person who looks like your Mother Dear, as well as every other
Mother in the world.
“‘Happy Day, Little Dream,’ she says, which is Rumdidoodledum for ‘How
do you do?’ The little creature whispers the message of the Mother who
sent her from earth, then flies back to tell her that all is well, and
her wish will be granted.
“Well, one lovely evening, several months ago, just after the sun
had set and the sky was all rosy and gold in the west, your Mother
Dear went out for a little walk in the garden with Father. Lady
Rumdidoodledum had just come out and was shining very brightly over
the top of the big eucalyptus tree. Mother Dear saw her first; she
always does, you know. So, she wished very, very hard for another
little daughter, at the same time opening the eucalyptus blossom
that she held in her hand. There was a little breeze at that moment,
and away flew the tiny creature. When she reached the Baby Star, she
stayed a very, very long time indeed. For she was most particular for
so small a personage and wished to find just the very sweetest of all
the Rumdidoodledum babies to be Margaret Sherman. So she searched and
searched but none of them suited exactly, until way off in a corner she
found what she was looking for: an adorable little golden-haired mite
with eyes that danced and were the color of forget-me-nots. Then the
fairy-person knew that she had found the right little sister for John,
Martha Mary, Walter and Edward Lee and Liza, so she flew off, happy as
happy could be.
“Ever since, Mother Dear has been waiting, waiting for her dream to
come true. This morning, just as Lady Rumdidoodledum was fading from
the sky, the Baby-person arrived, for all the world as lovely and pink
as the dawn that brought her.
“That, Butterfly Dear, is the story of Little Sister Margaret, the
dearest of all Lady Rumdidoodledum’s children. And that, you see, is
the reason that Mr. Cock Robin sang so happily outside your window this
morning and the flowers were all so gay and the sky so blue and bright.
You see, all the world is happy at the sound of a baby’s voice.
“Listen, there she is, calling now, for someone to come and love her.”
“I do,” said Butterfly Liza. “And I--and I--and I--and I,” sang all the
others.
FINIS
_THE “MOTHER DEAR” BOOKS_
THE GOLDEN SPEARS AND OTHER FAIRY TALES
By EDMUND LEAMY
With a preface
By JOHN E. REDMOND, M.P.
_Illustrated. Small 4to, cloth. Net $1.00_
“‘=The Golden Spears and Other Fairy Tales=’ is a book of absorbing
interest for children, and will be read with pleasure by grown-up
people. It is by the Irish writer, Edmund Leamy, who understood the
child nature and loved to minister to it. The delight which children
have in the world of fields and flowers, birds and blue skies, finds
abundant expression in the stories. In each tale the dramatic feature
is well developed and holds the reader’s interest to the end. The book
has real literary merit, the author’s style being graceful and well
adapted to the child mind. There are not enough such books in the
world. Books that are free from objectionable features and meet the
child’s craving for the wonderful, at the same time portraying the
beautiful and noble in the world and in human life, are very rare.
Brightness, beauty, nobility of sentiment, brave deeds, generous
conduct, kindness, gratitude, fidelity, appreciation of the good and
true in humanity, kindness to the lower orders of life, purity of
thought, all find abundant expression in the stories. There are seven
of them in the volume. Each has an attractive illustration drawn by
Corinne Turner. They are printed on paper of an excellent quality and
handsomely bound in cloth, with an appropriate cover design in colors.
Educators would do well to consider this volume as well adapted to meet
the need for suitable reading matter in certain school grades.”--_The
Springfield Republican._
THE FAIRY MINSTREL OF GLENMALURE
By EDMUND LEAMY
Illustrated in color
By VERA CASSEAU
A book of beautiful imaginative tales for children of all ages, a
companion to “The Golden Spears and Other Fairy Tales” by the same
author, which Mr. John E. Redmond, M.P., pronounced the most winsome
and educative of its kind.
_Small 4to. Cloth. 75c. net_
THE HEART OF AN ORPHAN
By AMANDA MATHEWS
Illustrated by W. T. Benda
“‘The Heart of an Orphan’ introduces another lovable child to the
wealth of American child-lore.
“Giovanna, the little Italian orphan, is so ingenuous and natural as
to suggest the boys and girls of Myra Kelly’s tales. It is a book that
should be known and loved.”--_The Boston Herald._
_12mo. Cloth. $1.00 net_
PUBLISHED BY
DESMOND FITZGERALD, Inc.
156 FIFTH AVENUE NEW YORK
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Emboldened text is surrounded by equals signs: =bold=.
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.