ponies, and a little coach, like Tom Thumb's. And of course you can
have your wish, if you once get there. But the thing is, to find it;
for it is not, as you imagine, a great gate, with a tall marble pillar
on each side, and a sign over the top, like this, WISHING-GATE,--but
just an old stile, made of three sticks. Put up two fingers, cross
them on the top with another finger, and you have it exactly,--the way
it looks, I mean,--a worm-eaten stile, in a meadow; and as there are
plenty of old stiles in meadows, how are you to know which is the one?
Blunder's fairy godmother knew, but then she could not tell him, for
that was not according to fairy rules and regulations. She could only
direct him to follow the road, and ask the way of the first owl he
met; and over and over she charged him, for Blunder was a very
careless little boy, and seldom found anything, "Be sure you don't
miss him,--be sure you don't pass him by." And so far Blunder had come
on very well, for the road was straight; but at the turn it forked.
Should he go through the wood, or turn to the right? There was an owl
nodding in a tall oak-tree, the first owl Blunder had seen; but he was
a little afraid to wake him up, for Blunder's fairy godmother had told
him that this was a great philosopher, who sat up all night to study
the habits of frogs and mice, and knew everything but what went on in
the daylight, under his nose; and he could think of nothing better to
say to this great philosopher than "Good Mr. Owl, will you please show
me the way to the Wishing-Gate?"
"Eh! what's that?" cried the owl, starting out of his nap. "Have you
brought me a frog?"
"No," said Blunder, "I did not know that you would like one. Can you
tell me the way to the Wishing-Gate?"
"Wishing-Gate! Wishing-Gate!" hooted the owl, very angry. "Winks and
naps! how dare you disturb me for such a thing as that? Do you take me
for a mile-stone! Follow your nose, sir, follow your nose!"--and,
ruffling up his feathers, the owl was asleep again in a moment.
But how could Blunder follow his nose? His nose would turn to the
right, or take him through the woods, whichever way his legs went, and
"what was the use of asking the owl," thought Blunder, "if this was
all?" While he hesitated, a chipmunk came skurrying down the path,
and, seeing Blunder, stopped short with a little squeak.
"Good Mrs. Chipmunk," said Blunder, "can you tell me the way to the
Wishing-Gate?"
"I can't, indeed," answered the chipmunk, politely. "What with getting
in nuts, and the care of a young family, I have so little time to
visit anything! But if you will follow the brook, you will find an old
water-sprite under a slanting stone, over which the water pours all
day with a noise like wabble! wabble! who, I have no doubt, can tell
you all about it. You will know him, for he does nothing but grumble
about the good old times when a brook would have dried up before it
would have turned a mill-wheel."
So Blunder went on up the brook, and, seeing nothing of the
water-sprite, or the slanting stone, was just saying to himself, "I am
sure I don't know where he is,--I can't find it," when he spied a frog
sitting on a wet stone.
"Mr. Frog," asked Blunder, "can you tell me the way to the
Wishing-Gate?"
"I cannot," said the frog. "I am very sorry, but the fact is, I am an
artist. Young as I am, my voice is already remarked at our concerts,
and I devote myself so entirely to my profession of music, that I have
no time to acquire general information. But in a pine-tree beyond, you
will find an old crow, who, I am quite sure, can show you the way, as
he is a traveller, and a bird of an inquiring turn of mind."
"I don't know where the pine is,--I am sure I can never find him,"
answered Blunder, discontentedly; but still he went on up the brook,
till, hot and tired, and out of patience at seeing neither crow nor
pine, he sat down under a great tree to rest. There he heard tiny
voices squabbling.
"Get out! Go away, I tell you! It has been knock! knock! knock! at my
door all day, till I am tired out. First a wasp, and then a bee, and
then another wasp, and then another bee, and now _you_. Go away! I
won't let another one in to-day."
"But I want my honey."
"And I want my nap."
"I will come in."
"You shall not."
"You are a miserly old elf."
"And you are a brute of a bee."
And looking about him, Blunder spied a bee, quarrelling with a
morning-glory elf, who was shutting up the morning-glory in his face.
"Elf, do you know which is the way to the Wishing-Gate?" asked
Blunder.
"No," said the elf, "I don't know anything about geography. I was
always too delicate to study. But if you will keep on in this path,
you will meet the Dream-man, coming down from fairyland, with his bags
of dreams on his shoulder; and if anybody can tell you about the
Wishing-Gate, he can."
"But how can I find him?" asked Blunder, more and more impatient.
"I don't know, I am sure," answered the elf, "unless you should look
for him."
So there was no help for it but to go on; and presently Blunder passed
the Dream-man, asleep under a witch-hazel, with his bags of good and
bad dreams laid over him to keep him from fluttering away. But Blunder
had a habit of not using his eyes; for at home, when told to find
anything, he always said, "I don't know where it is," or, "I can't
find it," and then his mother or sister went straight and found it for
him. So he passed the Dream-man without seeing him, and went on till
he stumbled on Jack-o'-Lantern.
"Can you show me the way to the Wishing-Gate?" said Blunder.
"Certainly, with pleasure," answered Jack, and, catching up his
lantern, set out at once.
Blunder followed close, but, in watching the lantern, he forgot to
look to his feet, and fell into a hole filled with black mud.
"I say! the Wishing-Gate is not down there," called out Jack, whisking
off among the tree-tops.
"But I can't come up there," whimpered Blunder.
"That is not my fault, then," answered Jack, merrily, dancing out of
sight.
O, a very angry little boy was Blunder, when he clambered out of the
hole. "I don't know where it is," he said, crying; "I can't find it,
and I'll go straight home."
Just then he stepped on an old, moss-grown, rotten stump; and it
happening, unluckily, that this rotten stump was a wood-goblin's
chimney, Blunder fell through, headlong, in among the pots and pans,
in which the goblin's cook was cooking the goblin's supper. The old
goblin, who was asleep up stairs, started up in a fright at the
tremendous clash and clatter, and, finding that his house was not
tumbling about his ears, as he thought at first, stumped down to the
kitchen to see what was the matter. The cook heard him coming, and
looked about her in a fright to hide Blunder.
"Quick!" cried she. "If my master catches you, he will have you in a
pie. In the next room stands a pair of shoes. Jump into them, and they
will take you up the chimney."
Off flew Blunder, burst open the door, and tore frantically about the
room, in one corner of which stood the shoes; but of course he could
not see them, because he was not in the habit of using his eyes. "I
can't find them! O, I can't find them!" sobbed poor little Blunder,
running back to the cook.
"Run into the closet," said the cook.
Blunder made a dash at the window, but--"I don't know where it is," he
called out.
Clump! clump! That was the goblin, half-way down the stairs.
"Goodness gracious mercy me!" exclaimed cook. "He is coming. The boy
will be eaten in spite of me. Jump into the meal-chest."
"I don't see it," squeaked Blunder, rushing towards the fireplace.
"Where is it?"
Clump! clump! That was the goblin at the foot of the stairs, and
coming towards the kitchen door.
"There is an invisible cloak hanging on that peg. Get into that,"
cried cook, quite beside herself.
But Blunder could no more see the cloak than he could see the shoes,
the closet, and the meal-chest; and no doubt the goblin, whose hand
was on the latch, would have found him prancing around the kitchen,
and crying out, "I can't find it," but, fortunately for himself,
Blunder caught his foot in the invisible cloak, and tumbled down,
pulling the cloak over him. There he lay, hardly daring to breathe.
"What was all that noise about?" asked the goblin, gruffly, coming
into the kitchen.
"Only my pans, master," answered the cook; and as he could see nothing
amiss, the old goblin went grumbling up stairs again, while the shoes
took Blunder up chimney, and landed him in a meadow, safe enough, but
so miserable! He was cross, he was disappointed, he was hungry. It was
dark, he did not know the way home, and, seeing an old stile, he
climbed up, and sat down on the top of it, for he was too tired to
stir. Just then came along the South Wind, with his pockets crammed
full of showers, and, as he happened to be going Blunder's way, he
took Blunder home; of which the boy was glad enough, only he would
have liked it better if the Wind would not have laughed all the way.
For what would you think, if you were walking along a road with a fat
old gentleman, who went chuckling to himself, and slapping his knees,
and poking himself, till he was purple in the face, when he would
burst out in a great windy roar of laughter every other minute?
"What _are_ you laughing at?" asked Blunder, at last.
"At two things that I saw in my travels," answered the Wind;--"a hen,
that died of starvation, sitting on an empty peck-measure that stood
in front of a bushel of grain; and a little boy who sat on the top of
the Wishing-Gate, and came home because he could not find it."
"What? what's that?" cried Blunder; but just then he found himself at
home. There sat his fairy godmother by the fire, her mouse-skin cloak
hung up on a peg, and toeing off a spider's-silk stocking an eighth of
an inch long; and though everybody else cried, "What luck?" and,
"Where is the Wishing-Gate?" she sat mum.
"I don't know where it is," answered Blunder. "I couldn't find
it";--and thereon told the story of his troubles.
"Poor boy!" said his mother, kissing him, while his sister ran to
bring him some bread and milk.
"Yes, that is all very fine," cried his godmother, pulling out her
needles, and rolling up her ball of silk; "but now hear my story.
There was once a little boy who must needs go to the Wishing-Gate, and
his fairy godmother showed him the road as far as the turn, and told
him to ask the first owl he met what to do then; but this little boy
seldom used his eyes, so he passed the first owl, and waked up the
wrong owl; so he passed the water-sprite, and found only a frog; so he
sat down under the pine-tree, and never saw the crow; so he passed the
Dream-man, and ran after Jack-o'-Lantern; so he tumbled down the
goblin's chimney, and couldn't find the shoes and the closet and the
chest and the cloak; and so he sat on the top of the Wishing-Gate till
the South Wind brought him home, and never knew it. Ugh! Bah!" And
away went the fairy godmother up the chimney, in such deep disgust
that she did not even stop for her mouse-skin cloak.
_Louise E. Chollet._
STAR-DOLLARS.
Once upon a time there was a little girl whose father and mother were
dead; and she became so poor that she had no roof to shelter herself
under, and no bed to sleep in; and at last she had nothing left but
the clothes on her back, and a loaf of bread in her hand, which a
compassionate person had given to her.
But she was a good and pious little girl, and when she found herself
forsaken by all the world, she went out into the fields, trusting in
God.
Soon she met a poor man, who said to her, "Give me something to eat,
for I am so hungry!" She handed him the whole loaf, and with a "God
bless you!" walked on farther.
Next she met a little girl crying very much, who said to her, "Pray
give me something to cover my head with, for it is so cold!" So she
took off her own bonnet, and gave it away.
And in a little while she met another child who had no cloak, and to
her she gave her own cloak! Then she met another who had no dress on,
and to this one she gave her own frock.
By that time it was growing dark, and our little girl entered a
forest; and presently she met a fourth maiden, who begged something,
and to her she gave her petticoat. "For," thought our heroine, "it is
growing dark, and nobody will see me; I can give away this."
And now she had scarcely anything left to cover herself. But just then
some of the stars fell down in the form of silver dollars, and among
them she found a petticoat of the finest linen! And in that she
collected the star-money, which made her rich all the rest of her
lifetime.
_Grimm's Household Tales._
THE IMMORTAL FOUNTAIN.
In ancient times two little princesses lived in Scotland, one of whom
was extremely beautiful, and the other dwarfish, dark colored, and
deformed. One was named Rose, and the other Marion. The sisters did
not live happily together. Marion hated Rose because she was handsome
and everybody praised her. She scowled, and her face absolutely grew
black, when anybody asked her how her pretty little sister Rose did;
and once she was so wicked as to cut off all her glossy golden hair,
and throw it in the fire. Poor Rose cried bitterly about it, but she
did not scold, or strike her sister; for she was an amiable, gentle
little being as ever lived. No wonder all the family and all the
neighbors disliked Marion, and no wonder her face grew uglier and
uglier every day. The Scotch used to be a very superstitious people;
and they believed the infant Rose had been blessed by the Fairies, to
whom she owed her extraordinary beauty and exceeding goodness.
[Illustration]
Not far from the castle where the princesses resided was a deep
grotto, said to lead to the Palace of Beauty, where the queen of the
Fairies held her court. Some said Rose had fallen asleep there one
day, when she had grown tired of chasing a butterfly, and that the
queen had dipped her in an immortal fountain, from which she had risen
with the beauty of an angel.[A] Marion often asked questions about
this story; but Rose always replied that she had been forbidden to
speak of it. When she saw any uncommonly brilliant bird or butterfly,
she would sometimes exclaim, "O, how much that looks like Fairy Land!"
But when asked what she knew about Fairy Land she blushed, and would
not answer.
[A] There was a superstition that whoever slept on fairy
ground was carried away by the fairies.
Marion thought a great deal about this. "Why cannot I go to the Palace
of Beauty?" thought she; "and why may not I bathe in the Immortal
Fountain?"
One summer's noon, when all was still save the faint twittering of the
birds and the lazy hum of the insects, Marion entered the deep grotto.
She sat down on a bank of moss; the air around her was as fragrant as
if it came from a bed of violets; and with the sound of far-off music
dying on her ear, she fell into a gentle slumber. When she awoke, it
was evening; and she found herself in a small hall, where opal pillars
supported a rainbow roof, the bright reflection of which rested on
crystal walls, and a golden floor inlaid with pearls. All around,
between the opal pillars, stood the tiniest vases of pure alabaster,
in which grew a multitude of brilliant and fragrant flowers; some of
them, twining around the pillars, were lost in the floating rainbow
above. The whole of this scene of beauty was lighted by millions of
fire-flies, glittering about like wandering stars. While Marion was
wondering at all this, a little figure of rare loveliness stood before
her. Her robe was of green and gold; her flowing gossamer mantle was
caught upon one shoulder with a pearl, and in her hair was a solitary
star, composed of five diamonds, each no bigger than a pin's point,
and thus she sung:--
The Fairy Queen
Hath rarely seen
Creature of earthly mould
Within her door,
On pearly floor,
Inlaid with shining gold.
Mortal, all thou seest is fair;
Quick thy purposes declare!
As she concluded, the song was taken up, and thrice repeated by a
multitude of soft voices in the distance. It seemed as if birds and
insects joined in the chorus,--the clear voice of the thrush was
distinctly heard; the cricket kept time with his tiny cymbal; and ever
and anon, between the pauses, the sound of a distant cascade was
heard, whose waters fell in music.
All these delightful sounds died away, and the Queen of the Fairies
stood patiently awaiting Marion's answer. Courtesying low, and with a
trembling voice, the little maiden said,--
"Will it please your Majesty to make me as handsome as my sister
Rose."
The queen smiled. "I will grant your request," said she, "if you will
promise to fulfil all the conditions I propose."
Marion eagerly promised that she would.
"The Immortal Fountain," replied the queen, "is on the top of a high,
steep hill; at four different places Fairies are stationed around it,
who guard it with their wands. None can pass them except those who
obey my orders. Go home now: for one week speak no ungentle word to
your sister; at the end of that time come again to the grotto."
Marion went home light of heart. Rose was in the garden, watering the
flowers; and the first thing Marion observed was that her sister's
sunny hair had suddenly grown as long and beautiful as it had ever
been. The sight made her angry; and she was just about to snatch the
water-pot from her hand with an angry expression, when she remembered
the Fairy, and passed into the castle in silence.
The end of the week arrived, and Marion had faithfully kept her
promise. Again she went to the grotto. The queen was feasting when she
entered the hall. The bees brought honeycomb and deposited it on the
small rose-colored shells which adorned the crystal table; gaudy
butterflies floated about the head of the queen, and fanned her with
their wings; the cucullo, and the lantern-fly stood at her side to
afford her light; a large diamond beetle formed her splendid
footstool, and when she had supped, a dew-drop, on the petal of a
violet, was brought for her royal fingers.
When Marion entered, the diamond sparkles on the wings of the Fairies
faded, as they always did in the presence of anything not perfectly
good; and in a few moments all the queen's attendants vanished,
singing as they went:--
The Fairy Queen
Hath rarely seen
Creature of earthly mould
Within her door,
On pearly floor,
Inlaid with shining gold.
"Mortal, hast thou fulfilled thy promise?" asked the queen.
"I have," replied the maiden.
"Then follow me."
Marion did as she was directed, and away they went over beds of
violets and mignonette. The birds warbled above their heads,
butterflies cooled the air, and the gurgling of many fountains came
with a refreshing sound. Presently they came to the hill, on the top
of which was the Immortal Fountain. Its foot was surrounded by a band
of Fairies, clothed in green gossamer, with their ivory wands crossed,
to bar the ascent. The queen waved her wand over them, and
immediately they stretched their thin wings and flew away. The hill
was steep, and far, far up they went; and the air became more and more
fragrant, and more and more distinctly they heard the sound of waters
falling in music. At length they were stopped by a band of Fairies
clothed in blue, with their silver wands crossed.
"Here," said the queen, "our journey must end. You can go no farther
until you have fulfilled the orders I shall give you. Go home now; for
one month do by your sister in all respects as you would wish her to
do by you, were you Rose and she Marion."
Marion promised, and departed. She found the task harder than the
first had been. She could not help speaking; but when Rose asked her
for any of her playthings, she found it difficult to give them gently
and affectionately, instead of pushing them along. When Rose talked to
her, she wanted to go away in silence; and when a pocket-mirror was
found in her sister's room, broken into a thousand pieces, she felt
sorely tempted to conceal that she did the mischief. But she was so
anxious to be made beautiful, that she did as she would be done by.
All the household remarked how Marion had changed. "I love her
dearly," said Rose, "she is so good and amiable."
"So do I," said a dozen voices.
Marion blushed deeply, and her eyes sparkled with pleasure. "How
pleasant it is to be loved!" thought she.
At the end of the month, she went to the grotto. The Fairies in blue
lowered their silver wands and flew away. They travelled on; the path
grew steeper and steeper; but the fragrance of the atmosphere was
redoubled, and more distinctly came the sound of the waters falling in
music. Their course was stayed by a troop of Fairies in rainbow robes,
and silver wands tipped with gold. In face and form they were far more
beautiful than anything Marion had yet seen.
"Here we must pause," said the queen; "this boundary you cannot yet
pass."
"Why not?" asked the impatient Marion.
"Because those must be very pure who pass the rainbow Fairies,"
replied the queen.
"Am I not very pure?" said the maiden; "all the folks in the castle
tell me how good I have grown."
"Mortal eyes see only the outside," answered the queen, "but those who
pass the rainbow Fairies must be pure in thought, as well as in
action. Return home; for three months never indulge an envious or
wicked thought. You shall then have a sight of the Immortal Fountain."
Marion was sad at heart; for she knew how many envious thoughts and
wrong wishes she had suffered to gain power over her.
At the end of three months, she again visited the Palace of Beauty.
The queen did not smile when she saw her; but in silence led the way
to the Immortal Fountain. The green Fairies and the blue Fairies flew
away as they approached; but the rainbow Fairies bowed low to the
queen, and kept their gold-tipped wands firmly crossed. Marion saw
that the silver specks on their wings grew dim; and she burst into
tears. "I knew," said the queen, "that you could not pass this
boundary. Envy has been in your heart, and you have not driven it
away. Your sister has been ill, and in your heart you wished that she
might die, or rise from the bed of sickness deprived of her beauty. Be
not discouraged; you have been several years indulging in wrong
feelings, and you must not wonder that it takes many months to drive
them away."
Marion was very sad as she wended her way homeward. When Rose asked
her what was the matter, she told her she wanted to be very good, but
she could not. "When I want to be good, I read my Bible and pray,"
said Rose; "and I find God helps me to be good." Then Marion prayed
that God would help her to be pure in thought; and when wicked
feelings rose in her heart, she read her Bible, and they went away.
When she again visited the Palace of Beauty, the queen smiled, and
touched her playfully with the wand, then led her away to the Immortal
Fountain. The silver specks on the wings of the rainbow Fairies shone
bright as she approached them, and they lowered their wands, and sung,
as they flew away:--
Mortal, pass on,
Till the goal is won,--
For such, I ween,
Is the will of the queen,--
Pass on! pass on!
And now every footstep was on flowers, that yielded beneath their
feet, as if their pathway had been upon a cloud. The delicious
fragrance could almost be felt, yet it did not oppress the senses with
its heaviness; and loud, clear, and liquid came the sound of the
waters as they fell in music. And now the cascade is seen leaping and
sparkling over crystal rocks; a rainbow arch rests above it, like a
perpetual halo; the spray falls in pearls, and forms fantastic foliage
about the margin of the Fountain. It has touched the webs woven among
the grass, and they have become pearl-embroidered cloaks for the Fairy
queen. Deep and silent, below the foam, is the Immortal Fountain! Its
amber-colored waves flow over a golden bed; and as the Fairies bathe
in it, the diamonds on their hair glance like sunbeams on the waters.
"O, let me bathe in the fountain!" cried Marion, clasping her hands in
delight. "Not yet," said the queen. "Behold the purple Fairies with
golden wands that guard its brink!" Marion looked, and saw beings
lovelier than any her eye had ever rested on. "You cannot pass them
yet," said the queen. "Go home; for one year drive away all evil
feelings, not for the sake of bathing in this Fountain, but because
goodness is lovely and desirable for its own sake. Purify the inward
motive, and your work is done."