V
OTHER FAIRY TALES
\
Twenty-second Printing $2.^0
THE HAPPY PRINCE
and
OTHER FAIRY TALES
by OSCAR WILDE
This collection of fairy tales has
long been considered a classic for
children of all ages. The charm
of their subject matter and the
delicacy of the author's style
have won for them an enduring
popularity.
Contents: The Happy Prince;
The Young King; The Star-Child;
The Selfish Giant; The Nightin-
gale and the Rose; The Devoted
Friend; The Remarkable Rocket;
The Birthday of the Infanta; The
Fisherman and His Soul.
NY PUBLIC LIBRARY THE BRANCH LIBRAR ES
3 3333 11384 9018
OC9
The Happy Prince
THE HAPPY PRINCE
AND
OTHER FAIRY TALES
BY
OSCAR WILDE
ILLUSTRATED
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
First Printed, October, 1919
Twenty-second Impression
Made in the United States of America
r? TY OF
CITY Of NEW YORK
CONTENTS
PACK
THE HAPPY PRINCE 3
THE YOUNG KING 23
THE STAR-CHILD 51
THE SELFISH GIANT .... 83
THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE . . 93
THE DEVOTED FRIEND . . .107
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET . . . .131
THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA . . . 155
THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL . . .193
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
THE HAPPY PRINCE .... 4
Drawn by Walter Crane
THE SELFISH GIANT . 84
Drawn by Walter Crane
THE REMARKABLE ROCKET . . . .132
Drawn by Walter Crane
The Happy Prince
The Happy Prince
HIGH above the city, on a tall column,
stood the statue of the Happy Prince.
He was gilded all over with thin leaves of
fine gold, for eyes he had two bright sapphires,
and a large red ruby glowed on his sword-hilt.
He was very much admired indeed. "He
is as beautiful as a weathercock," remarked
one of the Town Councillors who wished to
gain a reputation for having artistic tastes;
"only not quite so useful,' he added, fearing
lest people should think him unpractical,
which he really was not.
"Why can't you be like the Happy Prince? '
asked a sensible mother of her little boy who
was crying for the moon. * ' The Happy Prince
never dreams of crying for anything. '
"I am glad there is some one in the world
who is quite happy, " muttered a disappointed
man as he gazed at the wonderful statue.
"He looks just like an angel/' said the
charity children as they came out of the
3
4 The Happy Prince
cathedral in their bright scarlet cloaks and
their clean white pinafores.
"How do you know?" said the Mathe-
matical Master. "You have never seen
one."
"Ah! but we have in our dreams/ an-
swered the children; and the Mathematical
Master frowned and looked very severe, for
he did not approve of children dreaming.
One night there flew over the city a little
Swallow. His friends had gone away to
Egypt six weeks before, but he had stayed
behind, for he was in love with the most
beautiful Reed. He had met her early in the
spring as he was flying down the river after
a big yellow moth, and had been so attracted
by her slender waist that he had stopped to
talk to her.
"Shall I love you?" said the Swallow, who
liked to come to the point at once, and the
Reed made him a low bow. So he flew round
and round her, touching the water with his
wings, and making silver ripples. This was
his courtship, and it lasted all through the
summer.
"It is a ridiculous attachment," twittered
the other Swallows, "she has no money, and
far too many relations"; and indeed the
The Happy Prince
Drawn by Walter Crane
The Happy Prince 5
river was quite full of Reeds. Then, when
the autumn came, they all flew away.
After they had gone he felt lonely, and
began to tire of his lady-love. "She has no
conversation,' he said, "and I am afraid
that she is a coquette, for she is always flirting
with the wind.' And certainly, whenever
the wind blew, the Reed made the most
graceful curtsies. 'I admit that she is do-
mestic,' he continued, 'but I love travel-
ling, and my wife, consequently, should love
travelling also. '
"Will you come away with me?' he said
finally to her; but the Reed shook her head,
she was so attached to her home.
"You have been trifling with me, " he cried;
"I am off to the Pyramids. Good-bye!'
and he flew away.
All day long he flew, and at night-time
he arrived at the city. "Where shall I put
up?" he said; "I hope the town has made
preparations. '
Then he saw the statue on the tall column.
"I will put up there," he cried; "it is a fine
position with plenty of fresh air.' So he
alighted just between the feet of the Happy
Prince.
"I have a golden bedroom." he said softly
6 The Happy Prince
to himself as he looked round, and he prepared
to go to sleep; but just as he was putting his
head under his wing a large drop of water
fell on him. 'What a curious thing!' he
cried; "there is not a single cloud in the sky,
the stars are quite clear and bright, and yet
it is raining. The climate in the north of
Europe is really dreadful. The Reed used
to like the rain, but that was merely her
selfishness. '
Then another drop fell.
'What is the use of a statue if it cannot
keep the rain off?' he said. "I must look
for a good chimney-pot," and he determined
to fly away.
But before he had opened his wings a third
drop fell, and he looked up, and saw Ah!
what did he see?
The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled
with tears, and tears were running down his
golden cheeks. His face was so beautiful in
the moonlight that the little Swallow was
filled with pity.
"Who are you?" he said.
"I am the Happy Prince.'
"Why are you weeping then?" asked the
Swallow; "you have quite drenched me. "
" When I was alive and had a human heart,"
The Happy Prince 7
answered the statue, "I did not know what
tears were, for I lived in the Palace of Sans-
Souci, where sorrow is not allowed to enter.
In the daytime I played with my companions
in the garden, and in the evening I led the
dance in the Great Hall. Round the garden
ran a very lofty wall, but I never cared to ask
what lay beyond it, everything about me was
so beautiful. My courtiers called me the
Happy Prince, and happy indeed I was, if
pleasure be happiness. So I lived, and so I
died. And now that I am dead they have
set me up here so high that I can see all the
tigliness and all the misery of my city, and
though my heart is made of lead yet I cannot
choose but weep.'
"What, is he not solid gold?" said the
Swallow to himself. He was too polite to
make any personal remarks out loud.
"Far away," continued the statue in a low
musical voice, "far away in a little street there
is a poor house. One of the windows is open,
and through it I can see a woman seated at a
table. Her face is thin and worn, and she
has coarse, red hands, all pricked by the
needle, for she is a seamstress. She is embroid-
ering passion-flowers on a satin gown for the
loveliest of the Queen's maids-of-honour to
8 The Happy Prince
wear at the next Court ball. In a bed in tha
corner of the room her little boy is lying ill.
He has a fever, and is asking for oranges.
His mother has nothing to give him but
river water, so he is crying. Swallow, Swallow,
little Swallow, will you not bring her the
ruby out of my sword hilt? My feet are
fastened to this pedestal and I cannot
move.
"I am waited for in Egypt,' said the
Swallow. "My friends are flying up and
down the Nile, and talking to the large lotus-
flowers. Soon they will go to sleep in the
tomb of the great King. The King is there
himself in his painted coffin. He is wrapped
in yellow linen and embalmed with spices.
Round his neck is a chain of pale green jade,
and his hands are like withered leaves.'
"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,' said
the Prince, "will you not stay with me for one
night, and be my messenger? The boy is so
thirsty and the mother so sad. '
"I don't think I like boys,' answered the
Swallow. "Last summer, when I was staying
on the river, there were two rude boys, the
miller's sons, who were always throwing
stones at me. They never hit me, of course;
we swallows fly far too well for that, and,
The Happy Prince 9
besides, I come of a family famous for its
agility; but still, it was a mark of disrespect. M
But the Happy Prince looked so sad that
the little Swallow was sorry. "It is very
cold here, " he said; "but I will stay with you
for one night, and be your messenger. '
" Thank you, little Swallow," said the
Prince.
So the Swallow picked out the great ruby
from the Prince's sword, and flew away with
it in his beak over the roofs of the town.
He passed by the cathedral tower, where
the white marble angels were sculptured.
He passed by the palace and heard the sound
of dancing. A beautiful girl came out on the
balcony with her lover. "How wonderful
the stars are," he said to her, "and how
wonderful is the power of love!' 'I hope
my dress will be ready in time for the State
ball, " she answered; "I have ordered passion-
flowers to be embroidered on it; but the
seamstresses are so lazy.'
He passed over the river, and saw the
lanterns hanging to the masts of the ships.
He passed over the Ghetto, and saw the old
Jews bargaining with each other, and weigh-
ing out money in copper scales. At last he
came to the poor house and looked in. The
io The Happy Prince
boy was tossing feverishly on his bed, and the
mother had fallen asleep, she was so tired.
In he hopped, and laid the great ruby on the
table beside the woman's thimble. Then he
flew gently round the bed, fanning the boy's
forehead with his wings. "How cool I feel,'
said the boy; "I must be getting better,'
and he sank into a delicious slumber.
Then the Swallow flew back to the Happy
Prince, and told him what he had done. ' It
is curious/ he remarked, "but I feel quite
warm now, although it is so cold. '
"That is because you have done a good
action,' said the Prince. And the little
Swallow began to think, and then he fell
asleep. Thinking always made him sleepy.
When day broke he flew down to the river
and had a bath. ' What a remarkable pheno-
menon, ' said the Professor of Ornithology as
he was passing over the bridge. "A swallow
in winter!' And he wrote a long letter
about it to the local newspaper. Every one
quoted it, it was full of so many words that
they could not understand.
"To-night I go to Egypt, " said the Swallow,
and he was in high spirits at the prospect. He
visited all the public monuments, and sat a
long time on top of the church steeple. Wher-
The Happy Prince n
ever he went Sparrows chirruped, and said to
each other, 'What a distinguished stranger!"
so he enjoyed himself very much.
When the moon rose he flew back to the
Happy Prince. 'Have you any commissions
for Egypt?" he cried. "I am just starting."
"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow/' said
the Prince, 'will you not stay with me one
night longer?"
"I am waited for in Egypt," answered the
Swallow. ' ' To-morrow my friends will fly up to
the Second Cataract. The river-horse couches
there among the bulrushes, and on a great gran-
ite throne sits the God Memnon. All night long
he watches the stars, and when the morning
star shines he utters one cry of joy, and then
he is silent. At noon the yellow lions come
down to the water's edge to drink. They have
eyes like green beryls, and their roar is louder
than the roar of the cataract. '
"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,' said
the Prince, "far away across the city I see a
young man in a garret. He is leaning over a
desk covered with papers, and in a tumbler by
his side there is a bunch of withered violets.
His hair is brown and crisp, and his lips are
red as a pomegranate, and he has large and
dreamy eyes. He is trying to finish a play for
12 The Happy Prince
the Director of the Theatre, but he is too cold
to write any more. There is no fire in the
grate, and hunger has made him faint/
"I will wait with you one night longer/
said the Swallow, who really had a good heart.
"Shall I take him another ruby?'
"Alas! I have no ruby now,' said the
Prince; "my eyes are all that I have left.
They are made of rare sapphires, which were
brought out of India a thousand years ago.
Pluck out one of them and take it to him. He
will sell it to the jeweller, and buy food and
firewood, and finish his play.'
"Dear Prince,' said the Swallow, "I
cannot do that;'' and he began to weep.
"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,' said
the Prince, "do as I command you. '
So the Swallow plucked out the Prince's
eye, and flew away to the student's garret.
It was easy enough to get in, as there was a
hole in the roof. Through this he darted,
and came into the room. The young man had
his head buried in his hands, so he did not
hear the flutter of the bird's wings, and when
he looked up he found the beautiful sapphire
lying on the withered violets.
"I am beginning to be appreciated,' he
cried ; ' ' this is from some great admirer. Now
The Happy Prince 13
I can finish my play,' and he looked quite
happy.
The next day the Swallow flew down to
the harbour. He sat on the mast of a large
vessel and watched the sailors hauling big
chests out of the hold with ropes. "Heave
ahoy!' they shouted as each chest came up.
"I am going to Egypt!" cried the Swallow,
but nobody minded, and when the moon rose
he flew back to the Happy Prince.
"I am come to bid you good-bye, " he cried.
'Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said
the Prince, "will you not stay with me one
night longer? '
'It is winter,' answered the Swallow,
'and the chill snow will soon be here. In
Egypt the sun is warm on the green palm-
trees, and the crocodiles lie in the mud and
look lazily about them. My companions are
building a nest in the Temple of Baalbek,
and the pink and white doves are watching
them, and cooing to each other. Dear Prince,
I must leave you, but I will never forget you,
and next spring I will bring you back two
beautiful jewels in place of those you have
given away. The ruby shall be redder than
a red rose, and the sapphire shall be as blue
as the great sea."
14 The Happy Prince
"In the square below/ said the Happy
Prince, "there stands a little match-girl.
She has let her matches fall in the gutter,
and they are all spoiled. Her father will beat
her if she does not bring home some money,
and she is crying. She has no shoes or stock-
ings, and her little head is bare. Pluck out
my other eye, and give it to her, and her father
will not beat her. '
"I will stay with you one night longer,'
said the Swallow, "but I cannot pluck out
your eye. You would be quite blind then.'
"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,' said
the Prince, "do as I command you. '
So he plucked out the Prince's other eye
and darted down with it. He swooped past
the match-girl, and slipped the jewel into the
palm of her hand. "What a lovely bit of
glass, " cried the little girl; and she ran home,
laughing.
Then the Swallow came back to the Prince.
" You are blind now," he said, "so I will stay
with you always. "
"No, little Swallow," said the poor Prince,
"you must go away to Egypt."
"I will stay with you always," said the
Swallow, and he slept at the Prince's feet.
All the next day he sat on the Prince's
The Happy Prince 15
shoulder, and told him stories of what he had
seen in strange lands. He told him of the red
ibises, who stand in long rows on the banks of
the Nile and catch gold-fish in their beaks ; of
the Sphinx, who is as old as the world itself,
and lives in the desert, and knows everything;
of the merchants, who walk slowly by the side
of their camels, and carry amber beads in
their hands; of the King of the Mountains of
the Moon, who is as black as ebony, and wor-
ships a large crystal ; of the great green snake
that sleeps in a palm-tree, and has twenty
priests to feed it with honey-cakes, and of the
pygmies who sail over a big lake on large flat
leaves, and are always at war with the butter-
flies.
"Dear little Swallow," said the Prince,
'you tell me of marvellous things, but more
marvellous than anything is the suffering of
men and of women. There is no Mystery so
great as Misery, Fly over my city, little
Swallow, and tell me what you see there/
So the Swallow flew over the great city, and
saw the rich making merry in their beautiful
houses, while the beggars were sitting at the
gates. He flew into dark lanes, and saw the
white faces of starving children looking out
listlessly at the black streets. Under the
16 The Happy Prince
archway of a bridge two little boys were
}ying in one another's arms to try and keep
themselves warm. 'How hungry we are!'
they said. "You must not lie here, " shouted
the watchman, and they wandered out into
the rain.
Then he flew back and told the Prince what
he had seen.
"I am covered with fine gold,' said the
Prince; "you must take it off leaf by leaf, and
give it to my poor; the living always think
that gold can make them happy. '
Leaf after leaf of the fine gold the Swallow
picked off, till the Happy Prince looked
quite dull and grey. Leaf after leaf of the
fine gold he brought to the poor, and the
children's faces grew rosier, and they laughed
and played games in the street. "We have
bread now!' they cried.
Then the snow came, and after the snow
came the frost. The streets looked as if they
were made of silver, they were so bright and
glistening; long icicles like crystal daggers
hung down from the eaves of the houses,
everybody went about in furs, and the little
boys wore scarlet caps and skated on the
ice.
The poor little Swallow grew colder and
The Happy Prince 17
colder, but he would not leave the Prince;
he loved him too well. He picked up crumbs
outside the baker's door when the baker was
not looking, and tried to keep himself warm
by flapping his wings.
But at last he knew that he was going to
die. He had just strength to fly up to the
Prince's shoulder once more. 'Good-bye,
dear Prince!' he murmured. 'Will you let
me kiss your hand?'
"I am glad that you are going to Egypt at
last, little Swallow,' said the Prince, "you
have stayed too long here; but you must kiss
me on the lips, for I love you. '
"It is not to Egypt that I am going,'
said the Swallow. "I am going to the House
of Death. Death is the brother of Sleep, is
he not?"
And he kissed the Happy Prince on the
lips, and fell down dead at his feet.
At that moment a curious crack sounded
inside the statue as if something had broken.
The fact is that the leaden heart had snapped
right in two. It certainly was a dreadfully
hard frost.
Early the next morning the Mayor was
walking in the square below in company with
the Town Councillors. As they passed the
18 The Happy Prince
column he looked up at the statue. "Dear
me! how shabby the Happy Prince looks!" he
said.
"How shabby indeed!' cried the Town
Councillors, who always agreed with the
Mayor, and they went up to look at it.
"The ruby has fallen out of his sword, his
eyes are gone, and he is golden no longer,'
said the Mayor; "in fact, he is little better
than a beggar!'
"Little better than a beggar,' said the
Town Councillors.
"And here is actually a dead bird at his
feet!' continued the Mayor. "We must
really issue a proclamation that birds are not
to be allowed to die here.' And the Town
Clerk made a note of the suggestion.
So they pulled down the statue of the Happy
Prince. "As he is no longer beautiful he is
no longer useful, ' said the Art Professor at
the University.
Then they melted the statue in a furnace,
and the Mayor held a meeting of the Corpora-
tion to decide what was to be done with the
metal. "We must have another statue, of
course," he said, 'and it shall be a statue of
myself. '
"Of myself," said each of the Town Coun-
The Happy Prince 19
cillors, and they quarrelled. When I last
heard of them they were quarrelling still.
"What a strange thing!" said the overseer
of the workmen at the foundry. "This
broken lead heart will not melt in the furnace.
We must throw it away. ' So they threw it on
a dust -heap where the dead Swallow was also
lying.
"Bring me the two most precious things in
the city,' said God to one of His angels;
and the Angel brought Him the leaden heart
and the dead bird.
"You have rightly chosen/ said God,
"for in my garden of Paradise this little bird
shall sing forevermore, and in my city of gold
the Happy Prince shall praise me.'
The Young King
The Young King
TT was the night before the day fixed foi
his coronation, and the young King was
sitting alone in his beautiful chamber. His
courtiers had all taken their leave of him,
bowing their heads to the ground, according
to the ceremonious usage of the day, and had
retired to the Great Hall of the Palace, to
receive a few last lessons from the Professor
of Etiquette; there being some of them who
had still quite natural manners, which in a
courtier is, I need hardly say, a very grave
offence.
The lad for he was only a lad, being but
sixteen years of age was not sorry at their
departure, and had flung himself back with a
deep sigh of relief on the soft cushions of his
embroidered couch, lying there, wild-eyed
and open-mouthed, like a brown woodland
faun, or some young animal of the forest
newly snared by the hunters.
And, indeed, it was the hunters who had
found him, coming upon him almost by
23
24 The Young King
chance as, bare-limbed and pipe in hand, he
was following the flock of the poor goatherd
who had brought him up, and whose son he
had always fancied himself to be. The child
of the old King's only daughter by a secret
marriage with one much beneath her in station
a stranger, some said, who, by the wonder-
ful magic of his lute-playing, had made the
young Princess love him, while others spoke
of an artist from Rimini, to whom the Princess
had shown much, perhaps too much, honour,
and who had suddenly disappeared from the
city, leaving his work in the cathedral un-
finished he had been, when but a week old,
stolen away from his mother's side, as she
slept, and given into the charge of a common
peasant and his wife, who were without child-
ren of their own, and lived in a remote part of
the forest, more than a day's ride from the
town. Grief, or the plague, as the Court
physician stated, or, as some suggested, a
swift Italian poison administered in a cup of
spiced wine, slew, within an hour of her waken-
ing, the white girl who had given him birth,
and as the trusty messenger who bare the
shild across the saddle-bow stooped from his
weary horse and knocked at the rude door of
the goatherd's hut, the body of the Princess
The Young King 25
was being lowered into an open grave that had
been dug in a deserted churchyard, beyond
the city gates, a grave where it was said that
another body was also lying, that of a young
man of marvellous and foreign beauty, whose
hands were tied behind him with a knotted
cord, and whose breast was stabbed with many
red wounds.
Such, at least, was the story that men
whispered to each other. Certain it was that
the old King, when on his death-bed, whether
moved by remorse for his great sin, or merely
desiring that the kingdom should not pass
away from his line, had had the lad sent for,
and, in the presence of the Council, had
acknowledged him as his heir.
And it seems that from the very first
moment of his recognition he had shown
signs of that strange passion for beauty that
was destined to have so great an influence over
his life. Those who accompanied him to
the suite of rooms set apart for his service
often spoke of the cry of pleasure that broke
from his lips when he saw the delicate raiment
and rich jewels that had been prepared for
him, and of the almost fierce joy with which
he flung aside his rough leathern tunic and
coarse sheepskin cloak. He missed, indeed
26 The Young King
at times the fine freedom of his forest life,
and was always apt to chafe at the tedious
Court ceremonies that occupied so much of
each day, but the wonderful palace Joyeuse,
as they called it of which he now found
himself lord, seemed to him to be a new world
fresh-fashioned for his delight ; and as soon as
he could escape from the council-board or
audience-chamber he would run down the
great staircase, with its lions of gilt bronze
and its steps of bright porphyry, and wander
from room to room, and from corridor to
corridor, like one who was seeking to find
in beauty an anodyne from pain, a sort of
restoration from sickness.
Upon these journeys of discovery, as he
would call them and, indeed, they were to
him real voyages through a marvellous land
he would sometimes be accompanied by the
slim, fair-haired Court pages, with their float-
ing mantles, and gay fluttering ribands; but
more often he would be alone, feeling through
a certain quick instinct, which was almost a
divination, that the secrets of art are best
learned in secret, and that Beauty, like
Wisdom, loves the lonely worshipper.
Many curious stories were related about
The Young King 27
him at this period. It was said that a stout
burgomaster, who had come to deliver a
florid oratorical address on behalf of the
citizens of the town, had caught sight of him
kneeling in real adoration before a great
picture that had just been brought from
Venice, and that seemed to herald the wor-
ship of some new gods. On another occasion
he had been missed for several hours, and
after a lengthened search had been discovered
in a little chamber in one of the northern
turrets of the palace gazing, as one in a trance,
at a Greek gem carved with the figure of
Adonis. He had been seen, so the tale ran,
pressing his warm lips to the marble brow
of an antique statue that had been discovered
in the bed of the river on the occasion of the
building of the stone bridge, and was inscribed
with the name of the Bithynian slave of
Hadrian. He had passed a whole night in
noting the effect of the moonlight on a silver
image of Endymion.
All rare and costly materials had certainly
a great fascination for him, and in his eager-
ness to procure them he had sent away many
merchants, some to traffic for amber with the
rough fisher-folk of the north seas, some to
Egypt to look for that curious green turquoise
28 The Young King
which is found only in the tombs of kings and
is said to possess magical properties, some to
Persia for silken carpets and painted pottery,
and others to India to buy gauze and stained
ivory, moonstones and bracelets of jade,
sandal-wood and blue enamel and shawls of
fine wool.
But what had occupied him most was the
robe he was to wear at his coronation, the robe
of tissued gold, and the ruby-studded crown,
and the sceptre with its rows and rings of
pearls. Indeed, it was of this that he was
thinking to-night, as he lay back on his luxuri-
ous couch, watching the great pine wood log
that was burning itself out on the open hearth.
The designs, which were from the hands of the
most famous artists of the time, had been
submitted to him many months before, and
he had given orders that the artificers were to
toil night and day to carry them out, and that
the whole world was to be searched for jewels
that would be worthy of their work. He
saw himself in fancy standing at the high
altar of the cathedral in the fair raiment of a
King, and a smile played and lingered about
his boyish lips, and lit up with a bright lustre
his dark woodland eyes.
After some time he rose from his seat, and,
The Young King 29
leaning against the carved penthouse of the
chimney, looked round at the dimly lit room.
The walls were hung with rich tapestries
representing the Triumph of Beauty. A large
press, inlaid with agate and lapis-lazuli, filled
one corner, and facing the window stood a
curiously wrought cabinet with lacquer panels
of powdered and mosaicked gold, on which were
placed some delicate goblets of Venetian
glass, and a cup of dark-veined onyx. Pale
poppies were broidered on the silk coverlet of
the bed, as though they had fallen from the
tired hands of sleep, and tall reeds of fluted
ivory bare up the velvet canopy, from which
great tufts of ostrich plumes sprang, like white
foam, to the pallid silver of the fretted ceiling.
A laughing Narcissus in green bronze held a
polished mirror above its head. On the table
stood a flat bowl of amethyst.
Outside he could see the huge dome of the
cathedral, looming like a bubble over the
shadowy houses, and the weary sentinels
pacing up and down on the misty terrace by
the river. Far away, in an orchard, a night-
ingale was singing. A faint perfume of jas-
mine came through the open window. He
brushed his brown curls back from his fore-
head, and, taking up a lute, let his fingers stray
30 The Young King
across the cords. His heavy eyelids drooped,
and a strange languor came over him. Never
before had he felt so keenly, or with such
exquisite joy, the magic and the mystery of
beautiful things.
When midnight sounded from the clock-
tower he touched a bell, and his pages entered
and disrobed him with much ceremony,
pouring rose-water over his hands, and strew-
ing flowers on his pillow. A few moments
after that they had left the room, he fell
asleep.
And as he slept he dreamed a dream, and
this was his dream:
He thought that he was standing in a long,
low attic, amidst the whirr and clatter of
many looms. The meagre daylight peered
in through the grated windows, and showed
him the gaunt figures of the weavers bending
over their cases. Pale, sickly-looking child-
ren were crouched on the huge crossbeams.
As the shuttles dashed through the warp they
lifted up the heavy battens, and when the
shuttles stopped they let the battens fall and
pressed the threads together. Their faces
were pinched with famine, and their thin
hands shook and trembled. Some haggard
The Young King 31
women were seated at a table sewing. A
horrible odour filled the place. The air was
foul and heavy, and the walls dripped and
streamed with damp.
The young King went over to one of the
weavers, and stood by him and watched him.
And the weaver looked at him angrily,
and said: "Why art thou watching me? Art
thou a spy set on us by our master? '
"Who is thy master?' asked the young
King.
"Our master!' cried the weaver, bitterly.
"He is a man like myself. Indeed, there is
but this difference between us that he wears
fine clothes while I go in rags, and that while
I am weak from hunger he suffers not a little
from overfeeding.'
"The land is free,' said the young King,
"and thou art no man's slave.'
" In war, " answered the weaver, "the strong
make slaves of the weak, and in peace the rich
make slaves of the poor. We must work to
live, and they give us such mean wages that
we die. We toil for them all day long, and
they heap up gold in their coffers, and our
children fade away before their time, and the
faces of those we love become hard and evil.
We tread out the grapes, another drinks the
32 The Young King
wine. We sow the corn, and our own board
is empty. We have chains, though no eye
beholds them; and are slaves, though men
call us free/
"Is it so with all?" he asked.
"It is so with all,' answered the weaver,
"with the young as well as with the old, with
the women as well as with the men, with the
little children as well as with those who are
stricken in years. The merchants grind us
down, and we must needs do their bidding.
The priest rides by and tells his beads, and no
man has care of us. Through our sunless
lanes creeps Poverty with her hungry eyes,
and Sin with his sodden face follows close be-
hind her. Misery wakes us in the morning,
and Shame sits with us at night. But what
are these things to thee? Thou art not one
of us. Thy face is too happy.' And he
turned away scowling, and threw the shuttle
across the loom, and the young King saw
that i'c was threaded with a thread of gold.
And a great terror seized upon him, and he
said to the weaver, "What robe is this that
thou art weaving?'
"It is the robe for the coronation of the
young King,' he answered. 'What is that
to thee?"
The Young King 33
And the young King gave a loud cry and
woke, and lo ! he was in his own chamber, and
through the window he saw the great honey-
coloured moon hanging in the dusky air.
And he fell asleep again and dreamed, and
this was his dream:
He thought that he was lying on the deck
of a huge galley that was being rowed by a
hundred slaves. On a carpet by his side the
master of the galley was seated. He was
black as ebony, and his turban was of crimson
silk. Great earrings of silver dragged down
the thick lobes of his ears, and in his hands he
had a pair of ivory scales.
The slaves were naked, but for a ragged
loin-cloth, and each man was chained to his
neighbour. The hot sun beat brightly upon
them, and the negroes ran up and down the
gangway and lashed them with whips of hide.
They stretched out their lean arms and pulled
the heavy oars through the water. The salt
spray flew from the blades.
At last they reached a little bay, and began
to take soundings. A light wind blew from
the shore, and covered the deck and the great
lateen sail with a fine red dust. Three Arabs
mounted on wild asses rode out and threw
34 The Young King
spears at them. The master of the galley
took a painted bow in his hand and shot one
of them in the throat. He fell heavily into
the surf, and his companions galloped away.
A woman wrapped in a yellow veil followed
slowly on a camel, looking back now and then
at the dead body.
As soon as they had cast anchor and hauled
down the sail, the negroes went into the hold
and brought up a long rope-ladder, heavily
weighted with lead. The master of the
galley threw it over the side, making the ends
fast to two iron stanchions. Then the negroes
seized the youngest of the slaves, and knocked
his gyves off, and filled his nostrils and ears
with wax, and tied a big stone round his waist.
He crept wearily down the ladder, and dis-
appeared into the sea. A few bubbles rose
where he sank. Some of the other slaves
peered curiously over the side. At the prow
of the galley sat a shark-charmer, beating
monotonously upon a drum.
After some time the diver rose up out of the
water, and clung panting to the ladder with a
pearl in his right hand. The negroes seized
it from him, and thrust him back. The
slaves fell asleep over their oars.
Again and again he came up, and each time
The Young King 35
that he did so he brought with him a beautiful
pearl. The master of the galley weighed
them, and put them into a little bag of green
leather.
The young King tried to speak, but his
tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of his
mouth, and his lips refused to move. The
negroes chattered to each other, and began
to quarrel over a string of bright beads. Two
cranes flew round and round the vessel.
Then the diver came up for the last time,
and the pearl that he brought with him was
fairer than all the pearls of Ormuz, for it was
shaped like the full moon, and whiter than
the morning star. But his face was strangely
pale, and as he fell upon the deck the blood
gushed from his ears and nostrils. He quiv-
ered for a little, and then he was still. The
negroes shrugged their shoulders, and threw
the body overboard.
And the master of the galley laughed, and,
reaching out, he took the pearl, and when he
saw it he pressed it to his forehead and bowed.
"It shall be," he said, "for the sceptre of the
young King," and he made a sign to the
negroes to draw up the anchor.
And when the young King heard this he
gave a great cry, and woke, and through the
36 The Young King
window he saw the long grey fingers of ths
dawn clutching at the fading stars.
And he fell asleep again and dreamed,
and this was the dream:
He thought that he was wandering through
a dim wood hung with strange fruits and
with beautiful poisonous flowers. The ad-
ders hissed at him as he went by, and the
bright parrots flew screaming from branch to
branch. Huge tortoises lay asleep upon the
hot mud. The trees were full of apes and
peacocks.
On and on he went, till he reached the out-
skirts of the wood, and there he saw an im-
mense multitude of men toiling in the bed of a
dried-up river. They swarmed up the crag
like ants. They dug deep pits in the ground
and went down into them. Some of them
cleft the rocks with great axes; others grab-
bled in the sand. They tore up the cactus by
its roots, and trampled on the scarlet blossoms.
They hurried about, calling to each other, and
no man was idle.
From the darkness of a cavern Death and
Avarice watched them, and Death said, 'I
am weary ; give me a third of them and let me
go-"
The Young King 37
But Avarice shook her head. "They are
my servants, ' ' she answered.
And Death said to her, "What hast thou
in thy hand?*
" I have three grains of corn, " she answered;
"what is that to thee?"
"Give me one of them,'* cried Death,
"to plant in my garden; only one of them, and
I will go away. '
"I will not give thee anything,' said
Avarice, and she laid her hand in the fold of
ber raiment.
And Death laughed, and took a cup, and
dipped it into a pool of water, and out of the
cup rose Ague. She passed through the great
multitude, and a third of them lay dead. A
cold mist followed her, and the water-snakes
ran by her side.
And when Avarice saw that a third of the
multitude was dead she beat her breast and
wept. She beat her barren bosom, and cried
aloud. "Thou hast slain a third of my
servants," she cried; "get thee gone. There
is war in the mountains of Tartary, and the
kings of each side are calling to thee. The
Afghans have slain the black ox, and are
marching to battle. They have beaten upon
their shields with their spears, and have put
38 The Young King
on their helmets of iron. What is my valley
to thee that thou shouldst tarry in it? Get
thee gone and come here no more. '
"Nay,' answered Death, "but till thou
hast given me a grain of corn I will not go. '
But Avarice shut her hand and clenched
her teeth. "I will not give thee anything,'
she murmured.
And Death laughed, and took up a black
stone, and threw it into the forest, and out of a
thicket of wild hemlock came Fever in a robe
of flame. She passed through the multitude,
and touched them, and each man that she
touched died. The grass withered beneath
her feet as she walked.
And Avarice shuddered, and put ashes on
her head. 'Thou art cruel,' she cried;
"thou art cruel. There is famine in the
walled cities of India, and the cisterns of
Samarcand have run dry. There is famine in
the walled cities of Egypt, and the locusts
have come up from the desert. The Nile has
not overflowed its banks, and the priests
have cursed Isis and Osiris. Get thee gone
to those who need thee, and leave me my
servants. '
"Nay," answered Death, "but till thou
hast given me a grain of corn I will not go. 1 ' ,
The Young King 39
"I will not give thee anything," said Avarice.
And Death laughed again, and he whistled
through his fingers, and a woman came flying
through the air. Plague was written upon her
forehead, and a crowd of lean vultures wheeled
round her. She covered the valley with her
wings, and no man was left alive.
And Avarice fled shrieking through the
forest, and Death leaped upon his red horse
.and galloped away, and his galloping was
faster than the wind.
And out of the slime at the bottom of the
valley crept dragons and horrible things with
scales, and the jackals came trotting along
the sand, sniffing up the air with their nostrils.
And the young King wept, and said : ' ' Who
were these men, and for what were they
seeking? '
"For rubies for a king's crown/' answered
one who stood behind him.
And the young King started, and, turning
round, he saw a man habited as a pilgrim and
holding in his hand a mirror of silver.
And he grew pale, and said, "For what
king?"
And the pilgrim answered, "Look in this
mirror, md thou shalt see him. '
And he looked in the mirror, and, seeing
40 The Young King
his own face, he gave a great cry and woke*
and the bright sunlight was streaming into the
room, and from the trees of the garden and
pleasaunce the birds were singing.
And the Chamberlain and the high officers
of State came in and made obeisance to him,
and the pages brought him the robe of tissued
gold, and set the crown and the sceptre before
him.
And the young King looked at them, and
they were beautiful. More beautiful were
they than aught that he had ever seen. But
he remembered his dreams, and he said to his
lords, "Take these things away, for I will not
wear them. '
And the courtiers were amazed, and some
of them laughed, for they thought that he was
jesting.
But he spake sternly to them again, and
said: "Take these things away and hide them
from me. Though it be the day of my corona-
tion, I will not wear them. For on the loom
of Sorrow, and by the white hands of Pain, has
this my robe been woven. There is blood in
the heart of the ruby, and Death in the heart
of the pearl. " And he told them his three
dreams.
And when the courtiers heard them they
The Young King 41
looked at each other and whispered, saying:
" Surely he is mad ; for what is a dream but a
dream, and a vision but a vision? They are
not real things, that one should heed them.
And what have we to do with the lives of those
who toil for us? Shall a man not eat bread
till he has seen the sower, nor drink wine till
he has talked with the vine-dresser?"
And the Chamberlain spake to the young
King, and said, "My Lord, 1 pray thee set
aside these black thoughts of thine, and put
on this fair robe, and set this crown upon thy
head. For how shall the people know that
thou art a king if thou hast not a king's
raiment?'
And the young King looked at him. "Is it
so, indeed?" he questioned. "Will they not
know me for a king if I have not a king's
raiment?'
"They will not know thee, my Lord," cried
the Chamberlain.
"I had thought that there had been men
who were kinglike, " he answered, "but it may
be as thou sayest. And yet I will not wear
this robe, nor will I be crowned with this
crown, but even as I came to the palace so
will I go forth from it.'
And he bade them all leave him, save on
42 The Young King
page whom he kept as his companion, a lad
a year younger than himself. Him he kept
for his service, and when he had bathed him-
self in clear water he opened a great painted
chest, and from it he took the leathern tunic
and rough sheepskin cloak that he had worn
when he had watched on the hillside the
shaggy goats of the goatherd. These he put
on, and in his hand he took his rude shepherd's
staff.
And the little page opened his big blue
eyes in wonder, and said smiling to him, " My
Lord, I see thy robe and thy sceptre, but
where is thy crown?'
And the young King plucked a spray of
wild briar that was climbing over the balcony,
and bent it, and made a circlet of it, and set
it on his own head.
"This shall be my crown," he answered.
And thus attired he passed out of his cham-
ber into the Great Hall, where the nobles
were waiting for him .
And the nobles made merry, and some of
them cried out to him, "My Lord, the people
wait for their King, and thou showest them a
beggar," and others were wroth and said,
'**He brings shame upon our State, and is un-
worthy to be our master." But he answered
The Young King 43
them not a word, but passed on, and went
down the bright porphyry staircase, and out
through the gates of bronze, and mounted
upon his horse, and rode towards the cathe-
dral, the little page running beside him.
And the people laughed and said, "It is
the King's fool who is riding by," and they
mocked him.
And he drew rein and said, "Nay, but I am
the King." And he told them his three
dreams.
And a man came out of the crowd and
spake bitterly to him and said: "Sir, knowest
thou not that out of the luxury of the rich
cometh the life of the poor? By your pomp
we are nurtured, and your vices give us bread.
To toil for a hard master is bitter, but to have
no master to toil for is more bitter still.
Thinkest thou that the ravens will feed us?
And what cure hast thou for these things?
Wilt thou say to the buyer, 'Thou shalt buy
for so much,' and to the seller, 'Thou shalt
sell at this price'? I trow not. Therefore go
back to thy palace and put on thy purple and
fine linen. What hast thou to do with us, and
what we suffer ?"
"Are not the rich and the poor brothers?"
asked the young King.
44 The Young King
"Aye," answered the man, "and the name
of the rich brother is Cain. '
And the young King's eyes filled with tears,
and he rode on through the murmurs of the
people, and the little page grew afraid and
left him.
And when he reached the great portal of the
cathedral the soldiers thrust their halberts out
and said: "What dost thou seek here? None
enters by this door but the King. "
And his face flushed with anger, and he said
to them, "I am the King/ and waved their
halberts aside and passed in.
And when the old Bishop saw him coming
in his goatherd's dress, he rose up in wonder
from his throne, and went to meet him, and
said to him: " My son, is this a king's apparel?
And with what crown shall I crown thee, and
what sceptre shall I place in thy hand? Surely
this should be to thee a day of joy, and not a
day of abasement. '
' Shall Joy wear what Grief has fashioned? '
said the young King. And he told him his
three dreams.
And when the Bishop had heard them he
knit his brows, and said: "My son, I am an
old man, and in the winter of my days, and I
know that many evil things are done in the
The Young King 45
wide world. The fierce robbers come down
from the mountains, and carry off the little
children, and sell them to the Moors. The
lions lie in wait for the caravans, and leap
upon the camels. The wild boar roots up the
corn in the valley, and the foxes gnaw the
vines upon the hill. The pirates lay waste
the seacoast and burn the ships of the fisher-
men, and take their nets from them. In the
salt-marshes live the lepers; they have houses
of wattled reeds, and none may come nigh them.
The beggars wander through the cities, and
sat their food with the dogs. Canst thou
make these things not to be? Wilt thou take
the leper for thy bedfellow, and set the beggar
at thy board? Shall the lion do thy bidding,
and the wild boar obey thee? Is not He who
made misery wiser than thou art? Wherefore
I praise thee not for this that thou hast done,
but I bid thee ride back to the Palace and
make thy face glad, and put on the raiment
that beseemeth a king, and with the crown of
gold I will crown thee, and the sceptre of pe.arl
will I place in thy hand. And as for thy
dreams, think no more of them. The burden
of this world is too great for one man to bear,
and the world's sorrow too heavy for one
heart to suffer.'*
46 The Young King
"Sayest thou that in his house?' said the
young King, and he strode past the Bishop,
and climbed up the steps of the altar, and stood
before the image of Christ.
He stood before the image of Christ, and on
his right hand and on his left were the marvel-
lous vessels of gold, the chalice with the yellow
wine, and the vial with the holy oil. He
knelt before the image of Christ, and the great
candles burned brightly by the jewelled shrine,
and the smoke of the incense curled in thin
blue wreaths through the dome. He bowed
his head in prayer, and the priests in their
stiff copes crept away from the altar.
And suddenly a wild tumult came from the
street outside, and in entered the nobles with
drawn swords and nodding plumes, and shields
of polished steel. "Where is this dreamer of
dreams?' they cried. " Where is this King,
who is apparelled like a beggar this boy who
brings shame upon our State? Surely we will
slay him, for he is unworthy to rule over
us. !
And the young King bowed his head again,
and prayed, and when he had finished his
prayer he rose up, and turning round he looked
at them sadly.
And lo! through the painted window came
The Young King 47
the sunlight streaming upon him, and the
sunbeams wove round him a tissued robe that
was fairer than the robe that had been
fashioned for his pleasure. The dead staff
blossomed, and bare lilies that were whiter
than pearls. The dry thorn blossomed, and
bare roses that were redder than rubies.
Whiter than fine pearls were the lilies, and
their stems were of bright silver. Redder
than male rubies were the roses, and their
leaves were of beaten gold.
He stood there in the raiment of a king, and
the gates of the jewelled shrine flew open, and
from the crystal of the many-rayed mon-
strance shone a marvellous and mystical light.
He stood there in a king's raiment, and the
Glory of God filled the place, and the Saints
in their carven niches seemed to move. In
the fair raiment of a king he stood before them,
and the organ pealed out its music, and the
trumpeters blew upon their trumpets, and the
singing boys sang.
And the people fell upon their knees in awe,
and the nobles sheathed their swords and did
homage, and the Bishop's face grew pale, and
his hands trembled. "A greater than I hath
crowned thee. " he cried, and he knelt before
him.
48 The Young King
And the young King came down from the
high altar, and passed home through the midst
of the people. But no man dared look upon
his face, for it was like the face of an angel.
The Star-Child
The Star-Child
upon a time two poor Woodcutters
were making their way home through
a great pine-forest. It was winter, and a
night of bitter cold. The snow lay thick
upon the ground, and upon the branches of
the trees; the frost kept snapping the little
twigs on either side of them, as they passed;
and when they came to the Mountain Torrent
she was hanging motionless in the air, for the
Ice-King had kissed her.
So cold was it that even the animals and the
birds did not know what to make of it.
"Ugh!' snarled the Wolf, as he limped
through the brushwood with his tail between
his legs, "this is perfectly monstrous weather.
Why doesn't the Government look to it?"
"Weet! weet! weet!' twittered the green
Linnets, "the Old Earth is dead, and they
have laid her out in her white shroud. '
'The Earth is going to be married, and
this is her bridal dress, " whispered the Turtle-
doves to each other. Their little pink feet
51
52 The Star-Child
were quite frost-bitten, but they felt that it
was their duty to take a romantic view of the
situation.
' ' Nonsense ! ' ' growled the Wolf. ' ' I tell you
that it is all the fault of the Government, and
if you don't believe me I shall eat you. ' The
Wolf had a thoroughly practical mind, and
was never at a loss for a good argument.
"Well, for my own part,' said the Wood-
pecker, who was a born philosopher, "I don't
care an atomic theory for explanations. If a
thing is so, it is so, and at present it is terribly
cold."
Terribly cold it certainly was. The little
Squirrels, who lived inside the tall fir-tree, kept
rubbing each other's noses to keep themselves
warm, and the Rabbits curled themselves up in
their holes, and did not venture even to look
out of doors. The only people who seemed to
enjoy it were the great horned Owls. Their
feathers were quite stiff with rime, but they
did not mind, and they rolled their large
yellow eyes, and called out to each other
across the forest, " Tu-whit! Tu-whoo! Tu-
whit ! Tu-whoo ! what delightful weather we
are having!'
On and on went the two Woodcutters,
blowing lustily upon their fingers, and stamp-
The Star-Child 53
ing with their huge iron-shod boots upon the
caked snow. Once they sank into a deep
drift, and came out as white as millers are
when the stones are grinding; and once they
slipped on the hard smooth ice where the
marsh-water was frozen, and their fagots fell
out of their bundles, and they had to pick
them up and bind them together again; and
once they thought that they had lost their way,
and a great terror seized on them, for they
knew that the Snow is cruel to those who sleep
in her arms. But they put their trust in the
good Saint Martin, who watches over all
travellers, and retraced their steps, and went
warily, and at last they reached the out-
skirts of the forest, and saw, far down in the
valley beneath them, the lights of the village
in which they dwelt.
So overjoyed were they at their deliverance
that they laughed aloud, and the Earth
seemed to them like a flower of silver, and the
Moon like a flower of gold.
Yet, after that they had laughed they
became sad, for they remembered their pov-
erty, and one of them said to the other:
'Why did \^ make merry, seeing that life
is for the rich, and not for such as we are?
Better that we had died of cold in the forest-
54 The Star-Child
or that some wild beast had fallen upon us
and slain us. '
'Truly,' answered his companion, "much
is given to some, and little is given to others.
Injustice has parcelled out the world, nor is
there equal division of aught save of sorrow. '
But as they were bewailing their misery
to each other this strange thing happened:
There fell from heaven a very bright and
beautiful star. It slipped down the side of the
sky, passing by the other stars in its course,
and, as they watched it wondering, it seemed
to them to sink behind a clump of willow-
trees that stood hard by a little sheepfold no
more than a stone's throw away.
"Why, there is a crock of gold for whoever
finds it!" they cried, and they set to and ran,
so eager were they for the gold.
And one of them ran faster than his mate,
and outstripped him, and forced his way
through the willows, and came out on the
other side, and lo! there was indeed a thing of
gold lying on the white snow. So he hastened
towards it, and stooping down placed his
hands upon it, and it was a cloak of golden
tissue, curiously wrought wi+h stars, and
wrapped in many folds. And he cried out to
his comrade that he had found the treasure
The Star-Child 55
that had fallen from the sky; and when his
comrade had come up, they sat them down in
the snow, and loosened the folds of the cloak
that they might divide the pieces of gold. But,
alas! no gold was in it, nor silver, nor, indeed,
treasure of any kind, but only a little child,
who was asleep.
And one of them said to the other: "This ii
a bitter ending to our hope, nor have we any
good fortune, for what doth a child profit to a
man? Let us leave it here, and go our way,
seeing that we are poor men, and have children
of our own whose bread we may not give to
another."
But his companion answered him: "Nay,
but it were an evil thing to leave the child to
perish here in the snow, and though I am as
poor as thou art, and have many mouths to
feed, and but little in the pot, yet will I bring
it home with me, and my wife shall have care
of it."
So very tenderly he took up the child, and
wrapped the cloak around it to shield it
from the harsh cold, and made his way
down the hill to the village, his comrade
marvelling much at his foolishness and soft-
ness of heart.
And when they came to the village, his
56 The Star-Child
comrade said to him, "Thou hast the child,
therefore give me the cloak, for it is meet that
we should share. '
But he answered him, ' ' Nay, for the cloak is
neither mine nor thine, but the child's only, '
and he bade him God-speed, and went to his
own house and knocked.
And when his wife opened the door, and
saw that her husband had returned safe to
her, she put her arms round his neck and
kissed him, and took from his back the bundle
of fagots, and brushed the snow off his boots,
and bade him come in.
But he said to her, "I have found something
in the forest, and I have brought it to thee to
have care of it, ' ' and he stirred not from the
threshold.
"What is it?' 1 ' she cried. "Show it to me,
for the house is bare, and we have need of
many things. ' And he drew the cloak back,
and showed her the sleeping child.
"Alack, goodman!' she murmured, "have
we not children enough of our own, that thou,
must needst bring a changeling to sit by the
hearth? And who knows if it will not bring
us bad fortune? And how shall we tend it?*'
And she was wroth against him.
"Nay, but it is a Star-Child," he answered;
The Star-Child 57
and he told her the strange manner of the
finding of it.
But she would not be appeased, but mocked
at him and spoke angrily, and cried: 'Our
children lack bread, and shall we feed the
child of another? Who is there who careth
for us? And who giveth us food? '
" Nay, but God careth for the sparrows even,
and f eedeth them, ' ' he answered.
"Do not the sparrows die of hunger in the
winter?' she asked. ; 'And is it not winter
now?' And the man answered nothing, but
stirred not from the threshold.
And a bitter wind from the forest came in
through the open door, and made her tremble,
and she shivered, and said to him: "Wilt thou
not close the door? There cometh a bitter
wind into the house, and I am cold. '
" Into a house where a heart is hard cometh
there not always a bitter wind?' he asked.
And the woman answered him nothing, but
crept closer to the fire.
And after a time she turned round and
looked at him, and her eyes were full of tears.
And he came in swiftly, and placed the child
in her arms, and she kissed it, and laid it in a
little bed where the youngest of their own
children was lying. And on the morrow the
58 The Star-Child
Woodcutter took the curious cloak of gold and
placed it in a great chest, and a chain of amber
that was round the child's neck his wife took
and set it in the chest also.
So the Star-Child was brought up with the
children of the Woodcutter, and sat at the
same board with them, and was their play-
mate. And every year he became more
beautiful to look at, so that all those who
dwelt in the village were filled with wonder,
for, while they were swarthy and black-haired,
he was white and delicate as sawn ivory, and
his curls were like the rings of the daffodil.
His lips, also, were like the petals of a red
flower, and his eyes were like violets by a
river of pure water, and his body like the
narcissus of a field where the mower comes not.
Yet did his beauty work him evil. For
he grew proud, and cruel, and selfish. The
children of the Woodcutter, and the other
children of the village, he despised, saying
that they were of mean parentage, while he
was noble, being sprung from a Star, and he
made himself master over them and called
them his servants. No pity had he for the
poor, or for those who were blind or maimed
or in any way afflicted, but would cast stones
The Star-Child 59
at them and drive them forth on to the high-
way, and bid them beg their bread elsewhere,
so that none save the outlaws came twice to
that village to ask for alms. Indeed, he was
as one enamoured of beauty, and would mock
at the weakly and ill-favoured, and make jest
of them ; and himself he loved, and in summer,
when the winds were still, he would lie by the
well in the Priest's orchard, and look down at
the marvel of his own face, and laugh for the
pleasure he had in his fairness.
Often did the Woodcutter and his wife
chide him, and say: "We did not deal with
thee as thou dealest with those who are left
desolate and have none to succour them.
Wherefore art thou so cruel to all who need
pity?"
Often did the old Priest send for him, and
seek to teach him the love of living things,
saying to him: "The fly is thy brother. Do
it no harm. The wild birds that roam
through the forest have their freedom. Snare
them not for thy pleasure. God made the
blind-worm and the mole, and each has its
place. Who art thou to bring pain into God's
world? Even the cattle of the field praise
Him."
But the Star-Child heeded not their words.
60 The Star-Child
but would frown and flout, and go back to his
companions, and lead them. And his com-
panions followed him, for he was fair, and fleet
of foot, and could dance, and pipe, and make
music. And wherever the Star-Child led
them they followed, and whatever the Star-
Child bade them do, that did they. And
when he pierced with a sharp reed the dim
eyes of the mole, they laughed, and when he
cast stones at the leper they laughed also.
And in all things he ruled them, and they
became hard of heart, even as he was.
Now there passed one day through the
village a poor beggar-woman. Her garments
were torn and ragged, and her feet were
bleeding from the rough road on which she
had travelled, and she was in very evil plight.
And being weary she sat her down under a
chestnut-tree to rest.
But when the Star-Child saw her, he said
to his companions: "See! There sitteth a
foul beggar-woman under that fair and green-
leaved tree. Come, let us drive her hence, for
she is ugly and ill -favoured/ 1
So he came near and threw stones at her,
and mocked her, and she looked at him with
terror in her eyes, nor did she move her gaze
The Star-Child 61
from him. And when the Woodcutter, who
was cleaving logs in a haggard hard by, saw
what the Star-Child was doing, he ran up and
rebuked him, and said to him: "Surely thou
art hard of heart, and knowest not mercy,
for what evil has this poor woman done to thee
that thou shouldst treat her in this wise?"
And the Star-Child grew red with anger, and
stamped his foot upon the ground, and said:
"Who art thou to question me what I do?
I am no son of thine to do thy bidding. "
" Thou speakest truly, " answered the Wood-
cutter, "yet did I show thee pity when I found
thee in the forest. "
And when the woman heard these words
she gave a loud cry, and fell into a swoon.
And the Woodcutter carried her to his own
house, and his wife had care of her, and when
she rose up from the swoon into which she had
fallen, they set meat and drink before her, and
bade her have comfort.
But she would neither eat nor drink, but
said to the Woodcutter: "Didst thou not say
that the child was found in the forest? And
was it not ten years from this day? "
And the Woodcutter answered," Yea, it was
in the forest that I found him, and it is ten
years from this day."
62 The Star-Child
"And what signs didst thou find with
him?' she cried. "Bare he not upon his
neck a chain of amber? Was not round
him a cloak of gold tissue broidered with
stars?'
"Truly,' answered the Woodcutter, "it
was even as thou sayest. ' And he took the
cloak and the amber chain from the chest
where they lay, and showed them to her.
And when she saw them she wept for joy, and
said: "He is my little son whom I lost in the
forest. I pray thee send for him quickly, for
in search of him have I wandered over the
whole world. '
So the Woodcutter and his wife went out
and called to the Star-Child, and said to him,
"Go into the house, and there shalt thou find
thy mother, who is waiting for thee. '
So he ran in, filled with wonder and great
gladness. But when he saw her who was
waiting there, he laughed scornfully and said:
"Why, where is my mother? For I see none
here but this vile beggar-woman. '
And the woman answered him, "I am thy
mother. '
"Thou art mad to say so," cried the Star-
Child angrily. "I am no son of thine, for
thou art a beggar, and ugly, and in rags.
The Star-Child 63
Therefore get thee hence, and let me see thy
foul face no more. '
'Nay, but thou art indeed my little son,
whom I bare in the forest, " she cried, and she
fell on her knees, and held out her arms to
him. 'The robbers stole thee from me, and
left thee to die,' she murmured, "but I
recognised thee when I saw thee, and the
signs also have I recognised, the cloak of
golden tissue and the amber chain. Therefore
I pray thee come with me, for over the whole
world have I wandered in search of thee.
Come with me, my son, for I have need of thy
love."
But the Star-Child stirred not from his
place, but shut the doors of his heart against
her, nor was there any sound heard save the
sound of the woman weeping for pain.
And at last he spoke to her, and his voice
was hard and bitter. 'If in very truth thou
art my mother," he said, "it had been better
hadst thou stayed away and not come here
to bring me to shame, seeing that I thought I
was the child of some Star, and not a- beggar's
child, as thou tellest me that I am. There-
fore get thee hence, and let me see thee no
more. '
"Alas! my son," she cried, "wilt thou not
64 The Star-Child
kiss me before I go? For I have suffered
much to find thee. '
"Nay," said the Star-Child, "but thou art
too foul to look at, and rather would I kiss
the adder or the toad than thee. '
So the woman rose up, and went away
into the forest weeping bitterly, and when the
Star-Child saw that she had gone, he was
glad, and ran back to his playmates that he
might play with them.
But when they beheld him coming, they
mocked him and said, "Why, thou art as foul
as the toad, and as loathsome as the adder.
Get thee hence, for we will not suffer thee to
play with us, ' ' and they drave him out of the
garden.
And the Star-Child frowned and said to
himself: 'What is this that they say to me?
I will go to the well of water and look into it,
and it shall tell me of my beauty. '
So he went to the well of water and looked
into it, and lo! his face was as the face of a
toad, and his body was scaled like an adder.
And he flung himself down on the grass and
wept, and said to himself: "Surely this has
come upon me by reason of my sin. For I
have denied my mother, and driven her away,
and been proud, and cruel to her. Wherefore
The Star-Child 65
I will go and seek her through the whole world,
nor will I rest till I have found her. "
And there came to him the little daughter of
the Woodcutter, and she put her hand upon
his shoulder and said: "What does it matter if
thou hast lost thy comeliness? Stay with us,
and I will not mock at thee. '
And he said to her: "Nay, but I have been
cruel to my mother, and as a punishment has
this evil been sent to me. Wherefore I must
go hence, and wander through the world till
I find her, and she give me her forgiveness. '
So he ran away into the forest and called
out to his mother to come to him, but there
was no answer. All day long he called to her,
and when the sun set he lay down to sleep on a
bed of leaves, and the birds and the animals
fled from him, for they remembered his
cruelty, and he was alone save for the toad that
watched him, and the slow adder that crawled
past.
And in the morning he rose up, and plucked
some bitter berries from the trees and ate
them, and took his way through the great
wood, weeping sorely. And of everything
that he met he made inquiry if perchance they
had seen his mother.
He said to the Mole: ''Thou canst go
66 The Star-Child
beneath the earth. Tell me, is my mothei
there?"
And the Mole answered : "Thou hast blinded
mine eyes. How should I know?'
He said to the Linnet : ' ' Thou canst fly over
the tops of the tall trees, and canst see the
whole world. Tell me, canst thou see my
mother? '
And the Linnet answered: "Thou hast clipt
my wings for thy pleasure. How should I
fly?"
And to the little Squirrel who lived in the
fir-tree, and was lonely, he said, ' ' Where is my
mother? '
And the Squirrel answered: "Thou hast
slain mine. Dost thou seek to slay thine
also?"
And the Star-Child wept and bowed his
head and prayed forgiveness of God's things,
and went on through the forest, seeking for the
beggar-woman. And on the third day he
came to the other side of the forest and went
down into the plain.
And when he passed through the villages the
children mocked him, and threw stones at
him, and the carlots would not suffer him even
to sleep in the byres lest he might bring mildew
on the stored corn, so foul was be to look zt*.
The Star-Child 67
and their hired men drave him away, and there
was none who had pity on him. Nor could he
hear anywhere of the beggar-woman who was
his mother, though for the space of three
years he wandered over the world, and often
seemed to see her on the road in front of him,
and would call to her, and run after her till the
sharp flints made his feet to bleed. But over-
take her he could not, and those who dwelt
by the way did ever deny that they had seen
her, or any like to her, and they made sport of
his sorrow.
For the space of three years he wandered
over the world, and in the world there was
neither love nor loving-kindness nor charity
for him, but it was even such a world as he had
made for himself in the days of his great pride.
And one evening he came to the gate of a
strong-walled city that stood by a river, and,
weary and footsore though he was, he made to
enter in. But the soldiers who stood on guard
dropped their halberts across the entrance,
and said roughly to him, "What is thy business
in the city?"
" I am seeking for my mother, " he answered,
"and I pray ye to suffer me to pass, for it may
be that she is in this city. *
68 The Star-Child
But they mocked at him, and one of them
wagged a black beard, and set down his shield
and cried: 'Of a truth, thy mother will not
be merry when she sees thee, for thou art more
ill-favoured than the toad of the marsh, or the
adder that crawls in the fen. Get thee gone.
Get thee gone. Thy mother dwells not in this
city."
And another, who held a yellow banner in
his hand, said to him, "Who is thy mother,
and wherefore art thou seeking for her? '
And he answered: "My mother is a beggar
even as I am, and I have treated her evilly,
and I pray ye to suffer me to pass that she
may give me her forgiveness, if it be that she
tarrieth in this city.' But they would not
and pricked him with their spears.
Arid, as he turned away weeping, one whose
armour was inlaid with gilt flowers, and on
whose helmet crouched a lion that had wings,
came up and made inquiry of the soldiers who
it was that had sought entrance. And they
said to him, " It is a beggar and the child of a
beggar, and we have driven him away. '
"Nay/ he cried, laughing, "but we will
sell the foul thing for a slave, and his price
shall be the price of a bowl of sweet wine. '
And an old and evil-visaged man who was
The t5Child 69
passing by called out, and said, "I will buy
him for that price, " and, when he had paid the
price, he took the Star-Child by the hand and
led him into the city.
And after that they had gone through many
streets they came to a little door that was set
in a wall that was covered with a pome-
granate tree. And the old man touched the
door with a ring of graved jasper and it
opened, and they went down five steps of
brass into a garden filled with black poppies
and jars of burnt clay. And the old man took
then from his turban a scarf of figured silk,
and bound with it the eyes of the Star-Child,
and drave him in front of him. And when the
scarf was taken off his eyes, the Star-Child
found himself in a dungeon, that was lit by a
lantern of horn.
And the old man set before him some
mouldy bread on a trencher and said, "Eat, '
and some brackish water in a cup and said,
"Drink," and when he had eaten and drunk,
the old man went out, locking the door be-
hind him and fastening it with an iron chain.
And on the morrow the old man, who was
indeed the subtlest of the magicians of Libya
and had learned his art from one who dwelt
fo The Star-Child
in the tombs of the Nile, came in to him and
frowned at him, and said: "In a wood that is
nigh to the gate of this city of Giaours there
are three pieces of &^ld. One is of white gold,
and another is of yellow gold, and the gold of
the third one is red. To-day thou shalt bring
me the piece of white gold, and if thou bringest
it not back, I will beat thee with a hundred
stripes. Get thee away quickly, and at
sunset I will be waiting for thee at the door of
the garden. See that thou bringest the white
gold, or it shall go ill with thee, for thou art
my slave, and I have bought thee for the price
of a bowl of sweet wine. ' And he bound the
eyes of the Star-Child with the scarf of figured
silk, and led him through the house, and
through the garden of poppies, and up the
five steps of brass. And having opened the
little door with his ring he set him in the
street.
And the Star-Child went out of the gate of
the city, and came to the wood of which the
Magician had spoken to him.
Now this wood was very fair to look at
from without, and seemed full of singing birds
and of sweet-scented flowers, and the Star-
Child entered it gladly. Yet did its beauty
The Star-Child 71
profit him little, for wherever he went harsh
briars and thorns shot up from the ground and
encompassed him, and evil nettles stung him,
and the thistle pierced him with her daggers,
so that he was in sore distress. Nor could he
anywhere find the piece of white gold of which
the Magician had spoken, though he sought
for it from morn to noon, and from noon to
sunset. And at sunset he set his face towards
home, weeping bitterly, for he knew what fate
was in store for him.
But when he had reached the outskirts of
the wood, he heard from a thicket a cry as of
some one in pain. And forgetting his own
sorrow he ran back to the place, and saw there
a little Hare caught in a trap that some hunter
had set for it.
And the Star- Child had pity on it, and
released it, and said to it, 'I am myself but a
slave, yet may I give thee thy freedom?*
And the Hare answered him, and said,
'Surely thou hast given me freedom, and
what shall I give thee in return?'
And the Star- Child said to it, "I am seeking
for a piece of white gold, nor can I anywhere
find it, and if I bring it not to my master he
will beat me. '
"Come thou with me," said the Hare,
72 The Star-Child
"and I will lead thee to it, for I know where it
is hidden, and for what purpose. '
So the Star- Child went with the Hare, and
lo! in the cleft of a great oak-tree he saw the
piece of white gold that he was seeking. And
he was filled with joy, and seized it, and said
to the Hare, "The service that I did to thee
thou hast rendered back again many times
Vrer, and the kindness that I showed thee
chou hast repaid a hundred-fold."
"Nay, " answered the Hare, "but as thou
dealt with me, so I did deal with thee, " and it
ran away swiftly, and the Star-Child went
towards the city.
Now at the gate of the city there was seated
one who was a leper. Over his face hung a
cowl of grey linen, and through the eyelets his
eyes gleamed like red coals. And when he
saw the Star-Child coming, he struck upon a
wooden bowl, and clattered his bell, and
called out to him, and said: "Give me a piece
of money or I must die of hunger. For they
have thrust me out of the city, and there is
no one who has pity on me. '
"Alas!" cried the Star-Child, "I have but
one piece of money in my wallet, and if I
bring it not to my master he will beat me, fof
I am his slave. "
The Star-Child 73
But the leper entreated him, and prayed
of him, till the Star- Child had pity, and gave
him the piece of white gold.
And when he came to the Magician's house,
the Magician opened to him, and brought him
in, and said to him, "Hast thou the piece of
white gold?" and the Star-Child answered,
tl l have it not." So the Magician fell upon
him, and beat him, and set before him an
empty trencher, and said, 'Eat,' and an
empty cup, and said, "Drink," and flung him
again into the dungeon.
And on the morrow the Magician came to
him and said, "If to-day thou bringest me not
the piece of yellow gold I will surely keep thee
as my slave, and give thee three hundred
stripes. '
So the Star-Child went to the wood, and all
day long he searched for the piece of yellow
gold, but nowhere could he find it. And at
sunset he sat him down and began to weep,
and as he was weeping there came to him the
little Hare that he had rescued from the trap.
And the Hare said to him: "Why art thou
weeping? And what doest thou seek in the
wood?'
And the Star-Child answered, " I am seeking
for a piece of yellow gold that is hidden here.
74 The Star-Child
and if I find it not, my master will beat me,
and keep me as a slave. '
"Follow me,' cried the Hare, and it ran
through the wood till it came to a pool of
water. And at the bottom of the pool the
piece of yellow gold was lying.
"How shall I thank thee?' said the Star-
Child, "for lo! this is the second time that you
have succoured me. '
"Nay, but thou hadst pity on me first,'
said the Hare, and it ran away swiftly.
And the Star- Child took the piece of yellow
gold, and put it in his wallet, and hurried to
the city. But the leper saw him coming, and
ran to meet him, and knelt down and cried,
"Give me a piece of money or I shall die of
hunger. '
And the Star-Child said to him, "I have in
my wallet but one piece of yellow gold, and
if I bring it not to my master he will beat me
and keep me as his slave. '
But the leper entreated him sore, so that
the Star-Child had pity on him, and gave him
the piece of yellow gold.
And when he came to the Magician's house,
the Magician opened to him, and brought him
in, and said to him, "Hast thou the piece of
yellow gold!" And the Star-Child said to
The Star-Child 75
him, "I have it not/ So the Magician fell
upon him and beat him, and loaded him with
chains, and cast him again into the dungeon.
And on the morrow the Magician came to
him and said, " If to-day thou bringest me the
piece of red gold I will set thee free, but if thou
bringest it not I will surely slay thee. '
So the Star-Child went to the wood, and all
day long he searched for the piece of red gold,
but nowhere could he find it. And at evening
he sat him down and wept, and as he was
weeping there came to him the little Hare.
And the Hare said to him: "The piece of
red gold that thou seekest is in the cavern
that is behind thee. Therefore weep no more,
but be glad. '
"How shall I reward thee?" cried the Star-
Child, "for lo! this is the third time thou hast
succoured me. *
"Nay, but thou hadst pity on me first,"
said the Hare, and it ran away swiftly.
And the Star-Child entered the cavern, and
in its farthest corner he found the piece of red
gold. So he put it in his wallet and hurried
to the city. And the leper, seeing him coming,
stood in the centre of the road, and cried out,
and said to him, "Give me the piece of red
money, or I must die, " and the Star-Child had
76 The Star-Child
pity on him again, and gave him the piece of
red gold, saying, "Thy need is greater than
mine.' Yet was his heart heavy, for he
knew what evil fate awaited him.
But lo ! as he passed through the gate of the
city, the guards bowed down and made obei-
sance to him, saying, 'How beautiful is our
lord!' and a crowd of citizens followed him,
and cried out, 'Surely there is none so
beautiful in the whole world!' so that the
Star-Child wept and said to himself, " They are
mocking me, and making light of my misery. '
And so large was the concourse of the people,
that he lost the threads of his way, and found
himself at last in a great square, in which
there was a palace of a king.
And the gate of the palace opened, and the
priests and the high officers of the city ran
forth to meet him, and they abased themselves
before him, and said, "Thou art our lord for
whom we have been waiting, and the son of
our King."
And the Star-Child answered them and
said: "I am no king's son, but the child of a
poor beggar-woman. And how say ye that
I am beautiful, for I know that I am evil to
look at?"
Then he whose armour was inlaid with gilt
The Star-Child 77
flowers, and on whose helmet couched a lion
that had wings, held up a shield, and cried,
" How saith my lord that he is not beautiful? '
And the Star-Child looked, and lo ! his face
was even as it had been, and his comeliness
had come back to him, and he saw that in his
eyes which he had not seen there before.
And the priests and the high officers knelt
down and said to him: "It was prophesied of
old that on this day should come he who was
to rule over us. Therefore, let our lord take
this crown and this sceptre, and be in his
justice and mercy our King over us. '
But he said to them: "I am not worthy,
for I have denied the mother who bare me f
nor may I rest till I have found her, and
known her forgiveness. Therefore, let me go,
for I must wander again over the world, and
may not tarry here, though ye bring me the
crown and the sceptre. ' And as he spake he
turned his face from them cowards the street
that led to the gate of the city, and lo ! amongst
the crowd that pressed round the soldiers, he
saw the beggar-woman who was his mother,
and at her side stood the leper, who had sat by
the road.
And a cry of joy broke from his lips, and he
ran over, and kneeling down he kissed the
78 The Star-Child
wounds on his mother's feet, and wet them
with his tears. He bowed his head in the
dust, and sobbing, as one whose heart might
break, he said to her: "Mother, I denied thee
in the hour of my pride. Accept me in the
hour of my humility. Mother, I gave thee
hatred. Do thou give me love. Mother, I
rejected thee. Receive thy child now. ' But
the beggar-woman answered him not a word.
And he reached out his hands, and clasped
the white feet of the leper, and said to him:
"Thrice did I give thee of my mercy. Bid my
mother speak to me once.' But the leper
answered him not a word.
And he sobbed again, and said: 'Mother,
my suffering is greater than I can bear. Give
me thy forgiveness, and let me go back to the
forest.' And the beggar-woman put her
hand on his head, and said to him, " Rise, " and
the leper put his hand on his head, and said to
him, "Rise," also.
And he rose up from his feet, and looked at
them, and lo ! they were a King and a Queen.
And the Queen said to him, "This is thy
father whom thou hast succoured. "
And the King said, "This is thy mother,
whose feet thou hast washed with thy tears. '
And they fell on his neck and kissed him,
The Star-Child 79
and brought him into the palace, and clothed
him in fair raiment, and set the crown upon
his head, and the sceptre in his hand, and
over the city that stood by the river he ruled,
and was its lord. Much justice and mercy
did he show to all, and the evil Magician he
banished, and to the Woodcutter and his
wife he sent many rich gifts, and to their
children he gave high honour. Nor would he
suffer any to be cruel to bird or beast, but
taught love and loving-kindness and charity,
and to the poor he gave bread, and to the
naked he gave raiment, and there was peace
and plenty in the land.
Yet ruled he not long, so great had been his
suffering, and so bitter the fire of his testing,
for after the space of three years he died.
And he who came after him ruled evilly.
The Selfish Giant
The Selfish Giant
EVERY afternoon, as they were coming
from school, the children used to go and
play in the Giant's garden.
It was a large lovely garden, with soft
green grass. Here and there over the grass
stood beautiful flowers like stars, and there
were twelve peach-trees that in the spring-
time broke out into delicate blossoms of pink
and pearl, and in the autumn bore rich fruit.
The birds sat on the trees and sang so sweetly
that the children used to stop their games in
order to listen to them. " How happy we are
here!" they cried to each other.
One day the Giant came back. He had
been to visit his friend the Cornish ogre, and
had stayed with him for seven years. After
the seven years were over he had said all that
he had to say, for his conversation was limited,
and he determined to return to his own castle.
When he arrived he saw the children playing
in the garden.
"What are you doing there?' he cried
83
84 The Selfish Giant
in a very gruff voice, and the children ran
away.
"My own garden is my own garden,* said
the Giant; "any one can understand that, and
I will allow nobody to play in it but myself. '
So he built a high wall all round it, and put up
a notice-board :
TRESPASSERS
WILL BE
PROSECUTED
He was a very selfish giant.
The poor children had now nowhere to play.
They tried to play on the road, but the road
was very dusty and full of hard stones, and
they did not like it. They used to wander
round the high wall when their lessons were
over, and talk about the beautiful garden
inside. "How happy we were there,' they
said to each other.
Then the Spring came, and all over the
country there were little blossoms and little
birds. Only in the garden of the Selfish
Giant it was still winter. The birds did not
care to sing in it, as there were no children, and
The Selfish Giant
Drawn by Walter Crane
The Selfish Giant 85
the trees forgot to blossom. Once a beautiful
flower put its head out from the grass, but
when it saw the notice-board it was so sorry
for the children that it slipped back into the
ground again, and went off to sleep. The
only people who were pleased were the Snow
and the Frost. "Spring has forgotten this
garden," they cried, "so we will live here all
the year round. ' The Snow covered up the
grass with her great white cloak, and the Frost
painted all the trees silver. Then they invited
the North Wind to stay with them, and he
came. He was wrapped in furs, and he
roared all day about the garden, and blew the
chimney-pots down. "This is a delightful
spot," he said; "we must ask the Hail on a
visit." So the Hail came. Every day for
three hours he rattled on the roof of the castle
till he broke most of the slates, and then he
ran round and round the garden as fast as he
could go. He was dressed in grey, and his
breath was like ice.
"I cannot understand why the Spring is so
late in coming," said the Selfish Giant, as he
sat at the window and looked out at his cold
white garden; "I hope there will be a change in
the weather. '
But the Spring never came, nor the Summer.
60 The Selfish Giant
The Autumn gave golden fruit to every garden,
but to the Giant's garden she gave none.
"He is too selfish,' she said. So it was
always Winter there, and the North Wind, and
the Hail, and the Frost, and the Snow danced
about through the trees.
One morning the Giant was lying awake in
bed when he heard some lovely music. It
sounded so sweet to his ears that he thought
it must be the King's musicians passing by.
It was really only a little linnet singing outside
his window, but it was so long since he had
heard a bird sing in his garden that it seemed
to him to be the most beautiful music in the
world. Then the Hail stopped dancing over
his head, and the North Wind ceased roaring,
and a delicious perfume came to him through
the open casement. 'I believe the Spring
has come at last, ' said the Giant, and he
jumped out of bed and looked out.
What did he see?
He saw a most wonderful sight. Through
a little hole in the wall the children had crept
in, and they were sitting in the branches of the
trees. In every tree that he could see there
was a little child. And the trees were so
glad to have the children back again that
they had covered themselves with blossoms.
The Selfish Giant 87
and were waving their arms gently above the
children's heads. The birds were flying about
and twittering with delight, and the flowers
were looking up through the green grass and
laughing. It was a lovely scene, only in one
corner it was still winter. It was the farthest
corner of the garden, and in it was standing a
little boy. He was so small that he could not
reach up to the branches of the tree, and he
was wandering all round it, crying bitterly.
The poor tree was still quite covered with
frost and snow, and the North Wind was
blowing and roaring above it. "Climb up!
little boy,' said the Tree, and it bent its
branches down as low as it could ; but the boy
was too tiny.
And the Giant's heart melted as he looked
out. "How selfish I have been!' he said;
"now I know why the Spring would not come
here. I will put that poor little boy on the
top of the tree, and then I will knock down the
wall, and my garden shall be the children's
play-ground for ever and ever. ' ' He was really
very sorry for what he had done.
So he crept down-stairs and opened the
front door quite softly, and went out into the
garden. But when the children saw him they
were so frightened that they all ran away, and
88 The Selfish Giant
the garden became winter again. Only the
little boy did not run, for his eyes were so full
of tears that he did not see the Giant coming.
And the Giant strode up behind him and took
him gently in his hand, and put him up into
the tree. And the tree broke at once into
blossom, and the birds came and sang on it,
and the little boy stretched out his two arms
and flung them round the Giant's neck, and
kissed him. And the other children, when
they saw that the Giant was not wicked any
longer, came running back, and with them
came the Spring. 'It is your garden now,
little children, ' ' said the Giant, and he took a
great axe and knocked down the wall. And
when the people were going to market at
twelve o'clock they found the Giant playing
with the children in the most beautiful garden
they had ever seen.
All day long they played, and in the evening
they came to the Giant to bid him good-bye.
'But where is your little companion?" he
said, "the boy I put into the tree." The
Giant loved him the best because he had
kissed him.
'We don't know,' answered the children;
"he has gone away.'
"You must tell him to be sure and come
The Selfish Giant 89
here to-morrow,' said the Giant. But the
children said that they did not know where he
lived, and had never seen him before ; and the
Giant felt very sad.
Every afternoon, when school was over, the
children came and played with the Giant. But
the little boy whom the Giant loved was never
seen again. The Giant was very kind to all
the children, yet he longed for his first little
friend, and often spoke of him. "How I
would like to see him! " he used to say.
Years went over, and the Giant grew very
old and feeble. He could not play about any
more, so he sat in a huge armchair, and
watched the childrer at their games, and
admired his garden. ' I have many beautiful
flowers," he said; "but the children are the
most beautiful flowers of all. '
One winter morning he looked out of his
window as he was dressing. He did not hate
the Winter now, for he knew that it was
merely Spring asleep, and that the flowers
were resting.
Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder, and
looked and looked. It certainly was a marvel-
lous sight. In the farthest corner of the
garden was a tree quite covered with lovely
white blossoms. Its branches were all golden,
90 The Selfish Giant
and silver fruit hung down from them, and
underneath it stood the little boy he had loved.
Down-stairs ran the Giant in great joy, and
out into the garden. He hastened across, and
came near to the child. And when he came
quite close his face grew red with anger, and he
said, "Who hath dared to wound thee?'
For on the palms of the child's hands were the
prints of two nails, and the prints of two nails
were on the little feet.
"Who hath dared to wound thee?' cried
the Giant ; ' tell me, that I may take my big
sword and slay him. '
"Nay!" answered the child; "but these are
the wounds of Love. '
'Who art thou?' said the Giant, and a
strange awe fell on him, and he knelt before
the little child.
And the child smiled on the Giant, and said
to him, 4 ' You let me play once in your garden ;
to-day you shall come with me to my garden,
which is Paradise. '
And when the children ran in that afternoon,
they found the Giant lying dead under the
tree, all covered with white blossoms.
The Nightingale and the
Rose
The Nightingale and the
Rose
"OHE said that she would dance with me
^ if I brought her red roses," cried the
young Student ; ' l but in all my garden there is
no red rose. '
From her nest in- the Holm-oak tree the
Nightingale heard him, and she looked out
through the leaves, and wondered.
"No red rose in all my garden!' he cried,
and his beautiful eyes filled with tears.
"Ah, on what little things does happiness
depend, I have read all that the wise men
have written and all the secrets of philosophy
are mine, yet for want of a red rose is my
life made wretched."
"Here at last is a true lover,' said the
Nightingale. "Night after night have I sung
of him, though I knew him not; night after
night have I told his story to the stars, and
now I see him. His hair is dark as the
hyacinth-blossom, and his lips are red as the
rose of his desire; but passion has made his
93
94 The Nightingale and the Rose
face like pale ivory, and sorrow has set her
seal upon his brow. '
"The Prince gives a ball to-morrow night,"
murmured the young Student, 'and my love
will be of the company. If I bring her a red
rose she will dance with me till dawn. If I
bring her a red rose, I shall hold her in my
arms, and she will lean her head upon my
shoulder, and her hand will be clasped in
mine. But there is no red rose in my garden,
so I shall sit lonely, and she will pass me by.
She will have no heed of me, and my heart
will break. '
"Here indeed is the true lover," said the
Nightingale. "What I sing of, he suffers;
what is joy to me, to him is pain. Surely
Love is a wonderful thing. It is more precious
than emeralds, and dearer than fine opals.
Pearls and pomegranates cannot buy it, nor
is it set forth in the market-place. It may not
be purchased of the merchants, nor can it be
weighed out in the balance for gold. "
'The musicians will sit in their gallery,"
said the young Student, "and play upon their
stringed instruments, and my love will dance
to the sound of the harp and the violin. She
will dance so lightly that her feet will not
touch the floor, and the courtiers in their gay
The Nightingale and the Rose 95
dresses will throng round her. But with me
she will not dance, for I have no red rose to
give her"; and he flung himself down on the
grass, and buried his face in his hands, and
wept.
"Why is he weeping?" asked a little Green
Lizard, as he ran past him with his tail in the
air.
"Why, indeed?" said a Butterfly, who was
fluttering after a sunbeam.
"Why, indeed?" whispered a Daisy to his
neighbour, in a soft, low voice.
"He is weeping for a red rose,' said the
Nightingale.
"For a red rose!" they cried; "how very
ridiculous!" and the Lizard, who was some-
thing of a cynic, laughed outright.
But the Nightingale understood the secret
of the Student's sorrow, and she sat silent in
the Oak-tree, and thought about the mystery
of love.
Suddenly she spread her brown wings for
flight and soared into the air. She passed
through the grove like a shadow, and like a
shadow she sailed across the garden.
In the centre of the grass-plot was standing
a beautiful Rose-tree, and when she saw it she
flew over to it, and lit upon a spray.
96 The Nightingale and the Rose
1 Give me a red rose, " she cried, "and I will
sing you my sweetest song. '
But the Tree shook its head.
"My roses are white/ it answered; "as
white as the foam of the sea and whiter than
the snow upon the mountain. But go to my
brother who grows round the old sun-dial, and
perhaps he will give what you want. "
So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-
tree that was growing round the old sun-dial.
" Give me a red rose, " she cried, "and I will
sing you my sweetest song. '
But the Tree shook its head.
"My roses are yellow,' it answered; "as
yellow as the hair of the mermaiden who sits
upon an amber throne, and yellower than the
daffodil that blooms in the meadow before the
mower comes with his scythe. But go to my
brother who grows beneath the Student's
window, and perhaps he will give you what
you want. '
So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-
tree that was growing beneath the Student's
window.
"Give me a red rose, " she cried, "anji I will
sing you my sweetest song. '
But the Tree shook its head.
41 My roses are red, " it answered, "as red as
The Nightingale and the Rose 97
the feet of the dove, and redder than the great
fans of coral that wave and wave in the ocean-
cavern. But the winter has chilled my veins,
and the frost has nipped my buds, and the
storm has broken my branches, and I shall
have no roses at all this year."
"One red rose is all I want,' cried the
Nightingale, "only one red rose! Is there no
way by which I can get it? '
"There is a way, " answered the Tree; "but
it is so terrible that I dare not tell it to
you."
"Tell it to me," said the Nightingale; "1
am not afraid. '
"If you want a red rose,' said the Tree,
"you must build it out of music by moonlight,
and stain it with your own heart's-blood.
You must sing to me with your breast against
a thorn- Ail night long you must sing to me,
and tne tftom must pierce your heart, and
your life-blood must flow into my veins, and
become mine/'
"Death is a great price to pay for a red
rose, " cried the Nightingale, "and Life is very
dear to all. It is pleasant to sit in the green
wood, and to watch the Sun in his chariot of
gold, and the Moon in her chariot of pearl.
Sweet is the scent of the hawthorn, and sweet
98 The Nightingale and the Rose
are the bluebells that hide in the valley, and
the heather that blows on the hill. Yet love
^s better than Life, and what is the heart of a
bird compared to the heart of a man? '
So she spread her brown wings for flight,
and soared into the air. She swept over the
garden like a shadow, and like a shadow she
sailed through the grove.
The young Student was still lying on the
grass, where she had left him, and the tears
were not yet dry in his beautiful eyes.
'Be happy,' cried the Nightingale, 'be
happy; you shall have your red rose. I will
build it out of music by moonlight, and stain
it with my own heart's-blood. All that I ask
of you in return is that you will be a true lover,
for Love is wiser than Philosophy, though
she is wise, and mightier than Power, though
he is mighty. Flame-coloured are his wings,
and coloured like flame is his body. His lips
are sweet as honey, and his breath is like
frankincense. '
The Student looked up from the grass, and
listened, but he could not understand what the
Nightingale was saying to him, for he only
knew the things that are written down in
books.
But the Oak-tree understood, and felt sad.
The Nightingale and the Rose 99
for he was very fond of the little Nightingale
who had built her nest in his branches.
"Sing me one last song," he whispered;
" I shall feel very lonely when you are gone. '
So the Nightingale sang to the Oak-tree,
and her voice was like water bubbling from a
silver jar.
When she had finished her song, the Student
got up, and pulled a note-book and a lead-
pencil out of his pocket.
"She has form,' he said to himself, as he
walked away through the grove "that cannot
be denied to her; but has she got feeling? I
am afraid not. In fact, she is like most
artists; she is all style, without any sincerity.
She would not sacrifice herself for others.
She thinks merely of music, and everybody
knows that the arts are selfish. Still, it must
be admitted that she has some beautiful notes
in her voice. What a pity it is that they do
not mean anything, or do any practical good. '
And he went into his room, and lay down on his
little pallet-bed, and began to think of his
love; and, after a time, he fell asleep.
And when the Moon shone in the heavens
the Nightingale flew to the Rose-tree, and
set her breast against the thorn. All night
long she sang with her breast against the
ioo The Nightingale and the Rose
thorn, and the cold crystal Moon leaned down
and listened. All night long she sang, and
the thorn went deeper and deeper into her
breast, and her life blood ebbed away from her.
She sang first of the birth of love in the
heart of a boy and a girl. And on the top-
most spray of the Rose-tree there blossomed
a marvellous rose, petal following petal, as
song followed song. Pale was it, at first, as
the mist that hangs over the river pale
as the feet of the morning, and silver as the
wings of the dawn. As the shadow of a rose
in a mirror of silver, as the shadow of a rose ir*
a water-pool, so was the rose that blossomed on
the topmost spray of the Tree.
But the Tree cried to the Nightingale to
press closer against the thorn. "Press closer,
little Nightingale," cried the Tree, "or the
Day will come before the rose is finished. "
So the Nightingale pressed closer against
the thorn, and louder and louder grew her
song, for she sang of the birth of passion in the
soul of a man and a maid.
And a delicate flush of pink came into the
leaves of the rose, like the flush in the face of
the bridegroom when he kisses the lips of the
bride. But the thorn had not yet reached her
heart, so the rose's heart remained white, for
f
The Nightingale and the Rose 101
only a Nightingale's heart-blood can crimson
the heart of a rose.
And the Tree cried to the Nightingale to
press closer against the thorn. "Press closer,
little Nightingale/ cried the Tree, "or the
Day will come before the rose is finished. '
So the Nightingale pressed closer against
the thorn, and the thorn touched her heart,
and a fierce pang of pain shot through her.
Bitter, bitter was the pain, and wilder and
wilder grew her song, for she sang of the Love
that is perfected by Death, of the Love that
dies not in the tomb.
And the marvellous rose became crimson,
like the rose of the eastern sky. Crimson was
the girdle of petals, and crimson as a ruby
was the heart.
But the Nightingale's voice grew fainter,
and her little wings began to beat, and a film
came over her eyes. Fainter and fainter grew
her song, and she felt something choking her
in her throat.
Then she gave one last burst of music.
The white Moon heard it, and she forgot the
dawn, and lingered on in the sky. The red
rose heard it, and it trembled all over with
ecstasy, and opened its petals to the cold
morning air. Echo bore it to her purple
102 The Nightingale and the Rose
cavern in the hills, and woke the sleeping
shepherds from their dreams. It floated
through the reeds of the river, and they
carried its message to the sea.
"Look, look!" cried the Tree, "the rose is
finished now'*; but the Nightingale made no
answer, for she was lying dead in the long
grass, with the thorn in her heart.
And at noon the Student opened his window
and looked out.
"Why, what a wonderful piece of luck!" he
cried; "here is a red rose! I have never seen
any rose like it in all my life. It is so beauti-
ful that I am sure that it has a long Latin
name" ; and he leaned down and plucked it.
Then he put on his hat, and ran up to the
Professor's house with the rose in his hand.
The daughter of the Professor was sitting
in the doorway winding blue silk on a reel,
and her little dog was lying at her feet.
'You said that you would dance with me
if I brought you a red rose, " cried the Student.
"Here is the reddest rose in all the world.
You will wear it to-night next your heart,
and as we dance together it will tell you how I
love you."
But the girl frowned.
"I am afraid it will not go with my dress. '*
The Nightingale and the Rose 103
she answered ; "and, besides, the Chamberlain's
nephew sent me some real jewels, and every-
body knows that jewels cost far more than
flowers. '
"Well, upon my word, you are very un-
grateful,' said the Student angrily; and he
threw the rose into the street, where it fell
into the gutter, and a cart-wheel went over it.
"Ungrateful!" said the girl. "I tell you
what, you are very rude; and after all, who are
you? Only a Student. Why, I don't believe
you have even got silver buckles to your shoes
as the Chamberlain's nephew has"; and she
got up from her chair and went into the house.
"What a silly thing Love is,' said the
Student as he walked away. 'It is not half
as useful as Logic, for it does not prove any-
thing, and it is always telling one of things
that are not going to happen, and making one
believe things that are not true. In fact, it is
quite unpractical, and, as in this age to be
practical is everything, I shall go back to
Philosophy and study Metaphysics. '
So he returned to his room and pulled out a
great dusty book, and began to read.
The Devoted Friend
The Devoted Friend
morning the old Water-rat put his
head out of his hole. He had bright
beady eyes and stiff grey whiskers, and his tail
was like a long bit of black india-rubber.
The little ducks were swimming about in
the pond, looking just like a lot of yellow
canaries, and their mother, who was pure
white with real red legs, was trying to teach
them how to stand on their heads in the
water.
"You will never be in the best society
unless you can stand on your heads, " she kept
saying to them; and every now and then
she showed them how it was done. But
the little ducks paid no attention to her.
They were so young that they did not know
what an advantage it is to be in society at all.
"What disobedient children!" cried the old
Water-rat ; ' ' they really deserve tobe drowned. ' '
"Nothing of the kind," answered the
Duck; "every one must make a beginning,
and parents cannot be too patient, '
107
108 The Devoted Friend
1 'Ah! I know nothing about the feelings
of parents,' said the Water-rat; 'I am not
a family man. In fact, I have never been
married, and I never intend to be. Love is
all very well in its way, but friendship is
much higher. Indeed, I know of nothing in
the world that is either nobler or rarer than
a devoted friendship. '
"And what, pray, is your idea of the duties
of a devoted friend?' asked a Green Linnet,
who was sitting in a willow-tree hard by, and
had overheard the conversation.
"Yes, that is just what I want to know/
said the Duck, and she swam away to the
end of the pond, and stood upon her head,
in order to give her children a good ex-
ample.
"What a silly question!' cried the Water-
rat. "I should expect my devoted friend to
be devoted to me, of course. '
;< And what would you do in return?' said
the little bird, swinging upon a silver spray,
and flapping his tiny wings.
'I don't understand you/ answered the
Water-rat.
'Let me tell you a story on the subject/
said the Linnet.
"Is the story about me?" asked the Water-
The Devoted Friend 109
rat. "If so, I will listen to it, for I am ex-
tremely fond of fiction. '
"It is applicable to you," answered the
Linnet; and he flew down, and alighting
upon the bank, he told the story of The
Devoted Friend.
"Once upon a time,' said the Linnet,
"there was an honest little fellow named
Hans."
"Was he very distinguished?' asked the
Water-rat.
"No,' answered the Linnet, "I don't
think he was distinguished at all, except for
his kind heart, and his funny round good-
humoured face. He lived in a tiny cottage
all by himself, and every day he worked in
his garden. In all the countryside there
was no garden so lovely as his. Sweet-
william grew there, and Gilly-flowers, and
Shepherds' -purses, and Fair-maids of France.
There were damask Roses, and yellow Roses,
lilac Crocuses and gold, purple Violets and
white. Columbine and Lady-smock, Mar-
joram and Wild Basil, the Cowslip and the
Flower-de-luce, the Daffodil and the Clove-
Pink bloomed or blossomed in their proper
order as the months went by, one flower
taking another flower's place, so that there
no The Devoted Friend
were always beautiful things to look at, and
pleasant odours to smell.
" Little Hans had a great many friends,
but the most devoted friend of all was big
Hugh the Miller. Indeed, so devoted was
the rich Miller to little Hans, that he would
never go by his garden without leaning over
the wall and plucking a large nosegay, or a
handful of sweet herbs, or filling his pockets
with plums and cherries if it was the fruit
season.
'Real friends should have everything
in common,' the Miller used to say, and
little Hans nodded and smiled, and felt very
proud of having a friend with such noble
ideas.
" Sometimes, indeed, the neighbours thought
it strange that the rich Miller never gave little
Hans anything in return, though he had a
hundred sacks of flour stored away in his mill,
and six milch-cows, and a large flock of woolly
sheep ; but Hans never troubled his head about
these things, and nothing gave him greater
pleasure than to listen to all the wonderful
things the Miller used to say about the unself-
ishness of true friendship.
'So little Hans worked away in his garden.
During the spring, the summer, and the,
r
The Devoted Friend in
autumn he was very happy, but when the
winter came, and he had no fruit or flowers
to bring to the market, he suffered a good
deal from cold and hunger, and often had to
go to bed without any supper but a few dried
pears or some hard nuts. In the winter, also,
he was extremely lonely, as the Miller never
came to see him then.
" 'There is no good in my going to see
little Hans as long as the snow lasts,' the
Miller used to say to his wife, ' for when people
are in trouble they should be left alone, and
not be bothered by visitors. That at least
is my idea about friendship, and I am sure
I am right. So I shall wait till the spring
comes, and then I shall pay him a visit, and
he will be able to give me a large basket of
primroses, and that will make him so happy.'
' ' You are certainly very thoughtful about
others,' answered the Wife, as she sat in her
comfortable armchair by the big pinewood
fire ; l very thoughtful indeed. It is quite a
treat to hear you talk about friendship. I am
sure the clergyman himself could not say such
beautiful things as you do, though he does
live in a three-storied house, and wears a
gold ring on his little finger.'
"'But could we not ask little Hans up
ii2 The Devoted Friend
here?' said the Miller's youngest son. 'If
poor Hans is in trouble I will give him half
my porridge, and show him my white rabbits.'
' ' What a silly boy you are ! ' cried the
Miller ; ' I really don't know what is the use
of sending you to school. You seem not
to learn anything. Why, if little Hans
came up here, and saw our warm fire and
our good supper and our great cask of red
wine, he might get envious, and envy is a most
terrible thing, and would spoil anybody's
nature. I certainly will not allow Hans' s
nature to be spoiled. I am his best friend, and
I will always watch over him, and see that he
is not led into any temptations. Besides,
if Hans came here, he might ask me to let
him have some flour on credit, and that I
could not do. Flour is one thing, and friend-
ship is another, and they should not be con-
fused. Why, the words are spelt differently,
and mean quite different things. Everybody
can see that.'
"'How well you talk!' said the Miller's
Wife, pouring herself out a large glass of
warm ale ; ' really I feel quite drowsy. It is
just like being in church/
'Lots of people act well,' answered the
Miller; 'but very few people talk well, which
The Devoted Friend 113
shows that talking is much the more diffi-
cult thing of the two, and much the finer
thing also'; and he looked sternly across the
table at his little son, who felt so ashamed of
himself that he hung his head down, and
grew quite scarlet, and began to cry into his
tea. However, he was so young that you
must excuse him. '
"Is that the end of the story?" asked the
Water-rat.
'Certainly not,' answered the Linnet,
"that is the beginning."
'Then you are quite behind the age,"
said the Water-rat. "Every good story-
teller nowadays starts with the end, and then
goes on to the beginning, and concludes with
the middle. That is the new method. I
heard all about it the other day from a critic
who was walking round the pond with a
young man. He spoke of the matter at great
length, and I am sure he must have been right,
for he had blue spectacles and a bald head, and
whenever the young man made any remark,
he always answered, ' Pooh ! ' But pray go on
with your story. I like the Miller immensely.
I have all kinds of beautiful sentiments myself,
so there is a great sympathy between us."
"Well," said the Linnet, hopping now on
ii4 The Devoted Friend
one leg and now on the other, "as soon as the
winter was over, and the primroses began
to open their pale yellow stars, the Miller
said to his wife that he would go down and
see little Hans.
"'Why, what a good heart you have!'
cried his wife ; ' you are always thinking of
others. And mind you take the big basket
with you for the flowers/
' ' So the Miller tied the sails of the windmill
together with a strong iron chain, and went
down the hill with the basket on his arm.
"'Good morning, little Hans/ said the
Miller.
"'Good morning,' said Hans, leaning on
his spade, and smiling from ear to ear.
' And how have you been all the winter? '
said the Miller.
"'Well, really,' cried Hans, 'it is very
good of you to ask, very good indeed. I
am afraid I had rather a hard time of it,
but now the spring has come, and I am quite
happy, and all my flowers are doing well.'
'We often talked of you during the
winter, Hans,' said the Miller, * and wondered
how you were getting on.'
"'That was kind of you,' said Hans; '
was half afraid you had forgotten me.'
The Devoted Friend 113
'Hans, I am surprised at you/ said the
Miller; ' friendship never forgets. That is
the wonderful thing about it, but I am afraid
you don't understand the poetry of life. How
lovely your primroses are looking, by-the-by ! '
"They are certainly very lovely/ said
Hans, ' and it is a most lucky thing for me
that I have so many. I am going to bring
them into the market and sell them to the
Burgomaster's daughter, and buy back my
wheelbarrow with the money/
' Buy back your wheelbarrow? You don't
mean to say you have sold it? What a very
stupid thing to do ! '
'"Well, the fact is/ said Hans, 'that I
was obliged to. You see the winter was a
very bad time for me, and I really had no
money at all to buy bread with. So I first
sold the silver buttons off my Sunday coat,
and then I sold my silver chain, and then I
sold my big pipe, and at last I sold my wheel-
barrow. But I am going to buy them all
back again now/
"'Hans/ said the Miller, 'I will give you
my wheelbarrow. It is not in very good
repair; indeed, one side is gone, and there is
something wrong with the wheel-spokes; but
in spite of that I will give it to you. I know
n6 The Devoted Friend
it is very generous of me, and a great many
people would think me extremely foolish for
parting with it, but I am not like the rest of
the world. I think that generosity is the
essence of friendship, and, besides, I have got
a new wheelbarrow for myself. Yes, you
may set your mind at ease, I will give you my
wheelbarrow.'
'"Well, really, that is generous of you/
said little Hans, and his funny round face
glowed all over with pleasure. ' I can easily
put it in repair, as I have a plank of wood in
the house.'
'"A plank of wood!' said the Miller;
' why, that is just what I want for the roof
of my barn. There is a very large hole in
it, and the corn will all get damp if I don't
stop it up. How lucky you mentioned it! It
is quite remarkable how one good action
always breeds another. I have given you my
wheelbarrow, and now you are going to give
me your plank. Of course, the wheelbarrow
is worth far more than the plank, but true
friendship never notices things like that.
Pray get it at once, and I will set to work at
my barn this very day.'
11 ' Certainly,' cried little Hans, and he ran
into the shed and dragged the plank out.
The Devoted Friend 117
"'It is not a very big plank,' said the
Miller, looking at it, 'and I am afraid that
after I have mended my barn-roof there won't
te any left for you to mend the wheelbarrow
with; but, of course, that is not my fault.
And now, as I have given you my wheel-
barrow, I am sure you would like to give me
some flowers in return. Here is the basket,
and mind you fill it quite full.'
'"Quite full?" said little Hans, rather
sorrowfully, for it was really a very big basket,
and he knew that if he filled it he would have
no flowers left for the market, and he was very
anxious to get his silver buttons back.
"'Well, really,' answered the Miller, 'as
I have given you my wheelbarrow, I don't
think that it is much to ask you for a few
flowers. I may be wrong, but I should have
thought that friendship, true friendship, was
quite free from selfishness of any kind. '
"'My dear friend, my best friend,' cried
little Hans, 'you are welcome to all the flowers
in my garden. I would much sooner have
your good opinion than my silver buttons,
any day'; and he ran and plucked all his
pretty primroses, and filled the Miller's
basket.
'"Good-bye, little Hans,' said the Miller,
n8 The Devoted Friend
as he went up the hill with the plank on his
shoulder, and the big basket in his hand.
" ' Good-bye,' said little Hans, and he began
to dig away quite merrily, he was so pleased
about the wheelbarrow.
"The next day he was nailing up some
honeysuckle against the porch, when he
heard the Miller's voice calling to him from
the road. So he jumped off the ladder, and
ran down the garden, and looked over the
wall.
"There was the Miller with a large sack
of flour on his back.
" 'Dear little Hans,' said the Miller, ' would
you mind carrying this sack of flour for me
to market ?'
"'Oh, I am so sorry,' said Hans, 'but 1
am really very busy to-day. I have got all
my creepers to nail up, and all my flowers to
water, and all my grass to roll.'
'"Well, really,' said the Miller, 'I think
that, considering that I am going to give
you my wheelbarrow, it is rather unfriendly
of you to refuse/
"'Oh, don't say that/ cried little Hans,
* I would n't be unfriendly for the whole world ' ;
and he ran in for his cap, and trudged off with
the big sack on his shoulders.
The Devoted Friend 119
"It was a very hot day, and the road was
terribly dusty, and before Hans had reached
the sixth mile-stone he was so tired that he
had to sit down and rest. However, he went
on bravely, and at last he reached the mar-
ket. After he had waited there some time,
he sold the sack of flour for a very good
price, and then he returned home at once,
for he was afraid that if he stopped too late
he might meet some robbers on the way.
'It has certainly been a hard day,' said
little Hans to himself as he was going to
bed, 'but I am glad I did not refuse the Miller,
for he is my best friend, and, besides, he is
going to give me his wheelbarrow/
'Early the next morning the Miller came
down to get the money for his sack of flour,
but little Hans was so tired that he was still
in bed.
'"Upon my word,' said the Miller, 'you
are very lazy. Really, considering that I
am going to give you my wheelbarrow, I
think you might work harder. Idleness is
a great sin, and I certainly don't like any
of my friends to be idle or sluggish. You
must not mind my speaking quite plainly to
you. Of course I should not dream of doing
so if I were not your friend. But what is
120 The Devoted Friend
the good of friendship if one cannot say
exactly what one means? Anybody can say
charming things and try to please and to
flatter, but a true friend always says un-
pleasant things, and does not mind giving pain.
Indeed, if he is a really true friend he prefers
it, for he knows that then he is doing good.'
'"I am very sorry/ said little Hans, rub-
bing his eyes and pulling off his night-cap,
'but I was so tired that I thought I would
lie in bed for a little tiros, and listen to the
birds singing. Do you know that I always
work better after hearing the birds sing?'
" 'Well, I am glad of that,' said the Miller,
clapping little Hans on the back, 'for I want
you to come up to the mill as soon as you are
dressed, and mend my barn-roof for me/
'Poor little Hans was very anxious to go
and work in his garden, for his flowers had
not been watered for two days, but he did not
like to refuse the Miller, as he was such a good
friend to him.
'Do you think it would be unfriendly
of me if I said I was busy?' he enquired in
a shy and timid voice.
'"Well, really,' answered the Miller, 'I
do not think it is much to ask of you, con-
sidering that I am going to give you my
The Devoted Friend 121
wheelbarrow; but of course if you refuse I
will go and do it myself.'
"'Oh! on no account,' cried little Hans;
and he jumped out of bed, and dressed him-
self, and went up to the barn.
"He worked there all day long, till sun-
set, and at sunset the Miller came to see
how he was getting on.
"'Have you mended the hole in the roof
yet, little Hans?' cried the Miller in a cheery
voice.
"'It is quite mended,' answered little
Hans, coming down the ladder.
"'Ah!' said the Miller, 'there is no work
so delightful as the work one does for others.'
"'It is certainly a great privilege to hear
you talk,' answered little Hans, sitting down
and wiping his forehead, 'a very great privi-
lege. But I am afraid I shall never have
such beautiful ideas as you have.'
" 'Oh! they will come to you,' said the
Miller, 'but you must take more pains. At
present you have only the practice of friend-
ship; some day you will have the theory also.'
" 'Do you really think I shall?' asked little
Hans.
" 'I have no doubt of it,' answered the
Miller; 'but now that you have mended the
122 The Devoted Friend
roof, you had better go home and rest, for I
want you to drive my sheep to the mountain
to-morrow.'
"Poor little Hans was afraid to say any-
thing to this, and early the next morning
the Miller brought his sheep round to the
cottage, and Hans started off with them to
the mountain. It took him the whole day
to get there and back; and when he returned
he was so tired that he went off to sleep in his
chair, and did not wake up till it was broad
daylight.
" 'What a delightful time I shall have in
my garden,' he said, and he went to work
at once.
" But somehow he was never able to look
after his flowers at all, for his friend the Miller
was always coming round and sending him off
on long errands, or getting him to help at the
mill. Little Hans was very much distressed
at times, as he was afraid his flowers would
think he had forgotten them, but he consoled
himself by the reflection that the Miller was his
best friend. 'Besides/ he used to say, 'he is
going to give me his wheelbarrow, and that
is an act of pure generosity/
"So little Hans worked away for the
Miller. and be Mil!**" said JJ idbnd-Q of
The Devoted Friend 123
ful things about friendship, which Hans took
down in a note-book, and used to read over at
night, for he was a very good scholar.
"Now it happened that one evening little
Hans was sitting by his fireside when a loud
rap came at the door. It was a very wild
night, and the wind was blowing and roaring
round the house so terribly that at first he
thought it was merely the storm. But a
second rap came, and then a third, louder
than either of the others.
" 'It is some poor traveller/ said little
Hans to himself, as he ran to the door.
"There stood the Miller with a lantern in
one hand and a big stick in the other.
'''Dear little Hans,' cried the Miller, 'I
am in great trouble. My little boy has
fallen off a ladder and hurt himself, and I
am going for the Doctor. But he lives
so far away, and it is such a bad night, that
it has just occurred to me that it would be
much better if you went instead of me. You
know I am going to give you my wheelbarrow,
and sc it is only fair that you should do some-
thing f r me in return.'
" 'Certainly,' cried little Hans; 'I take it
quite as a compliment your coming to me,
and I will start off at once. But you must
124 The Devoted Friend
lend me your lantern, as the night is so
dark that I am afraid I might fall into the
ditch.'
" T am very sorry,' answered the Miller,
'but it is my new lantern, and it would be
a great loss to me if anything happened to it.'
" 'Well, never mind, I will do without
it,' cried little Hans, and he took down his
great fur-coat, and his warm scarlet cap,
and tied a muffler round his throat, and
started off.
"What a dreadful storm it was! The
night was so black that little Hans could
hardly see, and the wind was so strong that
he could scarcely stand. However, he was
very courageous, and after he had been
walking about three hours, he arrived at the
Doctor's house, and knocked at the door.
" 'Who is there?' cried the Doctor, put-
ting his head out of his bedroom window.
' 'Little Hans, Doctor.'
What do you want, little Hans ? '
The Miller's son has fallen from a ladder,
and has hurt himself, and the Miller wants
you to come at once.'
" 'All right!' said the Doctor; and he
ordered his horse, and his big boots, and his
lantern, and came downstairs, and rode off
U I
It I
The Devoted Friend 125
in the direction of the Miller's house, little
Hans trudging behind him.
"But the storm grew worse and worse,
and the rain fell in torrents, and little Hans
could not see where he was going, or keep
up with the horse. At last he lost his way,
and wandered off on the moor, which was a
very dangerous place, as it was full of deep
holes, and there poor little Hans was drowned.
His body was found the next day by some
goatherds, floating in a great pool of water,
and was brought back by them to the cottage.
"Everybody went to little Hans' s funeral
as he was so popular, and the Miller was the
chief mourner.
" ' As I was his best friend,' said the Miller,
'it is only fair that I should have the best
place ' ; so he walked at the head of the pro-
cession in a long black cloak, and every
now and then he wiped his eyes with a big
pocket-handkerchief.
"' Little Hans is certainly a great loss to
every one,' said the Blacksmith, when the
funeral was over, and they were all seated
comfortably in the inn, drinking spiced wine
and eating sweet cakes.
11 ' A great loss to me at any rate,' answered
the Miller; ' why, I had as good as given him
126 The Devoted Friend
tny wheelbarrow, and now I really don't
know what to do with it. It is very much in
my way at home, and it is in such bad repair
that I could not get anything for it if I sold it.
I will certainly take care not to give away
anything again. One always suffers for being
generous.'
"Well?" said the Water-rat after a long
pause.
"Well, that is the end,' said the Linnet.
"But what became of the Miller?' asked
the Water-rat.
"Oh! I really don't know,' replied the
Linnet; 'and I am sure that I don't care.'
"It is quite evident then that you have
no sympathy in your nature,' said the
Water-rat.
"I am afraid you don't quite see the moral
of the story, ' remarked the Linnet.
"The what?" screamed the Water-rat.
"The moral."
"Do you mean to say that the story has
a moral?'
Certainly, ' ' said the Linnet.
Well, really," said the Water-rat, in a
very angry manner, 'I think you should
have told me that before you began. If
you had done so, I certainly would not have
1 1
u
The Devoted Friend 127
listened to you; in fact, I should have said
'Pooh,' like the critic. However, I can say
it now"; so he shouted out "Pooh" at the
top of his voice, gave a whisk with his tail,
and went back into his hole.
"And how do you like the Water-rat?"
asked the Duck, who came paddling up some
minutes afterwards. "He has a great many
good points, but for my own part I have a
mother's feelings, and I can never look at a
confirmed bachelor without the tears coming
into my eyes."
'I am rather afraid that I have annoyed
him,' answered the Linnet. "The fact is,
that I told him a story with a moral. '
"Ah! that is always a very dangerous thing
to do, ' ' said the Duck.
And I quite agree with her.
The Remarkable Rocket
12*1
The Remarkable Rocket
THE King's son was going to be married,
so there were general rejoicings. He
had waited a whole year for his bride, and at
last she had arrived. She was a Russian
Princess, and had driven all the way from
Finland in a sledge drawn by six reindeer.
The sledge was shaped like a great golden
swan, and between the swan's wings lay
the little Princess herself. Her long ermine
cloak reached right down to her feet, on
her head was a tiny cap of silver tissue, and
she was as pale as the Snow Palace in which
she had always lived. So pale was she that
as she drove through the streets all the people
wondered. "She is like a white rose!' they
cried, and they threw down flowers on her
from the balconies.
At the gate of the Castle the Prince was
waiting to receive her. He had dreamy
violet eyes, and his hair was like fine gold.
When he saw her he sank upon one knee,
and kissed her hand.
137
132 The Remarkable Rocket
"Your picture was beautiful,' he mur-
mured, "but you are more beautiful than
your picture" ; and the little Princess blushed.
"She was like a white rose before,' said
a young Page to his neighbour, "but she is
like a red rose now"; and the whole Court
was delighted.
For the next three days everybody went
about saying, "White rose, Red rose, Red
rose, White rose"; and the King gave orders
that the Page's salary was to be doubled.
As he received no salary at all this was not
of much use to him, but it was considered
a great honour, and was duly published in
the Court Gazette.
When the three days were over the mar-
riage was celebrated. It was a magnificent
ceremony, and the bride and bridegroom
walked hand in hand under a canopy of purple
velvet embroidered with little pearls. Then
there was a State Banquet, which lasted for
five hours. The Prince and Princess sat at
the top of the Great Hall and drank out of
a cup of clear crystal. Only true lovers
could drink out of this cup, for if false lips
touched it, it grew grey and dull and cloudy.
" It is quite clear that they love each other, "
said the little Page, "as clear as crystal!"
The Remarkable Rocket
Drawn by Walter Crane
The Remarkable Rocket 133
and the King doubled his salary a second
time. "What an honour!' cried all the
courtiers.
After the Banquet there was to be a Ball.
The bride and bridegroom were to dance the
Rose-dance together, and the King had pro-
mised to play the flute. He played very
badly, but no one had ever dared to tell him so,
because he was the King. Indeed, he knew
only two airs, and was never quite certain
which one he was playing; but it made no
matter, for, whatever he did, everybody cried
out, "Charming! charming!'
The last item on the programme was a
grand display of fireworks, to be let off ex-
actly at midnight. The little Princess had
never seen a firework in her life, so the King
had given orders that the Royal Pyrotechnist
should be in attendance on the day of her
marriage.
"What are fireworks like?' she had asked
the Prince, one morning, as she was walking
on the terrace.
"They are like the Aurora Borealis, ' said
the King, who always answered questions
that were addressed to other people, "only
134 The Remarkable Rocket
much more natural. I prefer them to stars
myself, as you always know when they are
going to appear, and they are as delightful as
my own flute-playing. You must certainly
see them. '
So at the end of the King's garden a great
stand had been set up, and as soon as the
Royal Pyrotechnist had put everything in its
proper place, the fireworks began to talk to
each other.
'The world is certainly very beautiful,'
cried a little Squib. "Just look at those
yellow tulips. Why ! if they were real crackers
they could not be lovelier. I am very glad I
have travelled. Travel improves the mind
wonderfully, and does away with all one's
prejudices. '
'The King's garden is not the world,
you foolish Squib," said a big Roman Candle;
' the world is an enormous place, and it would
take you three days to see it thoroughly. '
: 'Any place you love is the world to you,'
exclaimed a pensive Catherine-wheel, who
had been attached to an old deal box in
early life, and prided herself on her broken
heart; "but love is not fashionable any more;
the poets have killed it. They wrote so much
about it that nobody believed them, and I am
The Remarkable Rocket 135
not surprised. True love suffers, and is silent.
I remember myself once But it is no matter
now. Romance is a thing of the past. '
"Nonsense!' said the Roman Candle,
"Romance never dies. It is like the moon,
and lives forever. The bride and bride-
groom, for instance, love each other very
dearly. I heard all about them this morning
from a brown-paper cartridge, who happened
to be staying in the same drawer as myself,
and knew the latest Court news. '
But the Catherine-wheel shook her head.
"Romance is dead, Romance is dead, Romance
is dead,' she murmured. She was one of
those people who think that, if you say the
same thing over and over a great many times,
it becomes true in the end.
Suddenly, a sharp, dry cough was heard,
and they all looked round.
It came from a tall, supercilious-looking
Rocket, who was tied to the end of a long
stick. He always coughed before he made
any observation, so as to attract attention.
"Ahem! ahem!' he said, and everybody
listened except the poor Catherine-wheel, who
was still shaking her head, and murmuring,
"Romance is dead.'
"Order! order!" cried out a Cracker. He
136 The Remarkable Rocket
was something of a politician, and had always
taken a prominent part in the local elections,
so he knew the proper Parliamentary expres-
sions to use.
"Quite dead,' whispered the Catherine-
wheel, and she went off to sleep.
As soon as there was perfect silence, the
Rocket coughed a third time and began.
He spoke with a very slow, distinct voice,
as if he was dictating his memoirs, and always
looked over the shoulder of the person to whom
he was talking. In fact, he had a most dis-
tinguished manner.
"How fortunate it is for the King's son,"
he remarked, 'that he is to be married on
the very day on which I am to be let off.
Really, if it had been arranged beforehand, it
could not have turned out better for him;
but Princes are always lucky.'
"Dear me!" said the little Squib, "I
thought it was quite the other way, and that
we were to be let off in the Prince's honour. "
'It may be so with you,' he answered;
'indeed, I have no doubt that it is, but with
me it is different. I am a very remarkable
Rocket, and come of remarkable parents.
My mother was the most celebrated Catherine-
wheel of her day, and was renowned for her
The Remarkable Rocket 137
graceful dancing. When she made her great
public appearance she spun round nineteen
times before she went out, and each time that
she did so she threw into the air seven pink
stars. She was three feet and a half in dia-
meter, and made of the very best gunpowder.
My father was a Rocket like myself, and of
French extraction. He flew so high that the
people were afraid that he would never come
down again. He did, though, for he was of a
kindly disposition, and he made a most brilliant
descent in a shower of golden rain. The news-
papers wrote about his performance in very
flattering terms. Indeed, the Court Gazette
called him a triumph of Pylotechnic art. '
" Pyrotechnic, Pyrotechnic, you mean,'
said a Bengal Light ; " I know it is Pyrotechnic,
for I saw it written on my own canister. *
"Well, I said Pylotechnic, " answered the
Rocket, in a severe tone of voice, and the
Bengal Light felt so crushed that he began
at once to bully the little squibs, in order
to show that he was still a person of some
importance.
"I was saying,' continued the Rocket,
"I was saying What was I saying?'
"You were talking about yourself," replied
the Roman Candle.
138 The Remarkable Rocket
"Of course; I knew I was discussing some
interesting subject when I was so rudely
interrupted. I hate rudeness and bad man-
ners of every kind, for I am extremely sensitive.
No one in the whole world is so sensitive as I
am, I am quite sure of that. '
"What is a sensitive person?' said the
Cracker to the Roman Candle.
"A person who, because he has corns
himself, always treads on other people's
toes,' answered the Roman Candle in a
low whisper ; and the Cracker nearly exploded
with laughter.
"Pray, what are you laughing at? " enquired
the Rocket; "I am not laughing. '
"I am laughing because I am happy,'
replied the Cracker.
"That is a very selfish reason,' said the
Rocket angrily. "What right have you to
be happy? You should be thinking about
others. In fact, you should be thinking about
me. I am always thinking about myself, and
I expect everybody else to do the same.
That is what is called sympathy. It is a
beautiful virtue, and I possess it in a high
degree. Suppose, for instance, anything hap-
pened to me to-night, what a misfortune
that would be for every one ! The Prince and
The Remarkable Rocket 139
Princess would never be happy again, their
whole married life would be spoiled; and as
for the King, I know he would not get over it.
Really, when I begin to reflect on the import-
ance of my position, I am almost moved to
tears. '
"If you want to give pleasure to others,'
cried the Roman Candle, "you had better
keep yourself dry. '
"Certainly,' exclaimed the Bengal Light,
who was now in better spirits; "that is only
common-sense. '
"Common-sense, indeed!' said the Rocket
indignantly; 'you forget that I am very un-
common, and very remarkable. Why, any-
body can have common-sense, provided that
they have no imagination. But I have
imagination, for I never think of things as
they really are; I always think of them as
being quite different. As for keeping myself
dry, there is evidently no one here who can
at all appreciate an emotional nature. For-
tunately for myself, I don't care. The only
thing that sustains one through life is the
consciousness of the immense inferiority of
everybody else, and this is a feeling that I
have always cultivated. But none of you
have any hearts. Here you are laughing
140 The Remarkable Rocket
and making merry just as if the Prince and
Princess had not just been married.'
"Well, really,' exclaimed a small Fire-
balloon, 'why not? It is a most joyful occa-
sion, and when I soar up into the air I intend
to tell the stars all about it. You will see
them twinkle when I talk to them about the
pretty bride/
"Ah! what a trivial view of life!' said the
Rocket; "but it is only what I expected.
There is nothing in you; you are hollow
and empty. Why, perhaps the Prince and
Princess may go to live in a country where
there is a deep river, and perhaps they may
have one only son, a little fair-haired boy with
violet eyes like the Prince himself; and per-
haps some day he may go out to walk with his
nurse; and perhaps the nurse may go to sleep
under a great elder- tree ; and perhaps the little
boy may fall into the deep river and be
drowned. What a terrible misfortune ! Poor
people, to lose their only son ! It is really too
dreadful ! I shall never get over it. '
"But they have not lost their only son, '*
said the Roman Candle; "no misfortune has
happened to them at all.'
"I never said that they had," replied the
Rocket; "I said that they might. If they
The Remarkable Rocket 141
had lost their only son there would be no
use in saying anything more about the matter.
I hate people who cry over spilt milk. But
when I think that they might lose their only
son, I certainly am very much affected.'
"You certainly are!' cried the Bengal
Light. "In fact, you are the most affected
person I ever met. '
"You are the rudest person I ever met,'
said the Rocket, "and you cannot under-
stand my friendship for the Prince. '
"Why, you don't even know him, " growled
the Roman Candle.
"I never said I knew him,' answered the
Rocket. "I daresay that if I knew him I
should not be his friend at all. It is a very
dangerous thing to know one's friends.'
"You had really better keep yourself dry, '
said the Fire-balloon. "That is the impor-
tant thing. '
"Very important for you, I have no doubt,"
answered the Rocket, "but I shall weep if I
choose"; and he actually burst into real tears,
which flowed down his stick like raindrops,
and nearly drowned two little beetles, who
were just thinking of setting up house together,
and were looking for a nice dry spot to live in.
"He must have a truly romantic nature,'
142 The Remarkable Rocket
said the Catherine-wheel, "for he weeps
when there is nothing at all to weep about";
and she heaved a deep sigh, and thought
about the deal box.
But the Roman Candle and the Bengal
Light were quite indignant, and kept saying,
"Humbug! humbug!' at the top of their
voices. They were extremely practical, and
whenever they objected to anything they
called it humbug.
Then the moon rose like a wonderful silver
shield; and the stars began to shine, and a
sound of music came from the palace.
The Prince and Princess were leading the
dance. They danced so beautifully that the
tall white lilies peeped in at the window and
watched them, and the great red poppies
nodded their heads and beat time.
Then ten o'clock struck, and then eleven,
and then twelve, and at the last stroke of
midnight every one came out on the terrace,
and the King sent for the Royal Pyrotechnist.
'Let the fireworks begin,' said the King;
and the Royal Pyrotechnist made a low bow,
and marched down to the end of the garden.
He had six attendants with him, each of
whom carried a lighted torch at the end of a
long pole.
The Remarkable Rocket 143
It was certainly a magnificent display.
Whizz! Whizz! went the Catherine-wheel,
as she spun round and round. Boom! Boom!
went the Roman Candle. Then the Squibs
danced all over the place, and the Bengal
Lights made everything look scarlet. " Good-
bye, ' cried the Fire-balloon, as he soared
away, dropping tiny blue sparks. Bang!
Bang! answered the Crackers, who were
enjoying themselves immensely. Every one
was a great success except the Remarkable
Rocket. He was so damp with crying that
he could not go off at all. The best thing
in him was the gunpowder, and that was
so wet with tears that it was of no use. All
his poor relations, to whom he would never
speak, except with a sneer, shot up into
the sky like wonderful golden flowers with
blossoms of fire. Huzza! huzza! cried the
Court; and the little Princess laughed with
pleasure.
"I suppose they are reserving me for some
grand occasion," said the Rocket; "no doubt
that is what it means/ and he looked more
supercilious than ever.
The next day the workmen came to put
everything tidy. "This is evidently a depu-
tation," said the Rocket; "I will receive them
144 The Remarkable Rocket
with becoming dignity" ; so he put his nose in
the air, and began to frown severely as if he
were thinking about some very important
subject. But they took no notice of him at
all till they were just going away. Then one
of them caught sight of him. "Hallo!'
he cried, "what a bad rocket!" and he threw
him over the wall into the ditch.
"BAD Rocket? BAD Rocket?" he said,
as he whirled through the air; "impossible!
GRAND Rocket, that is what the man said.
BAD and GRAND sound very much the same,
indeed they often are the same"; and he fell
into the mud.
1 It is not comfortable here, ' ' he remarked,
'but no doubt it is some fashionable water-
ing place, and they have sent me away
to recruit my health. My nerves are cer-
tainly very much shattered, and I require
rest."
Then a little Frog, with bright jewelled
eyes, and a green mottled coat, swam up to
him.
"A new arrival, I see!' said the Frog.
'Well, after all there is nothing like mud.
Give me rainy weather and a ditch, and I
am quite happy. Do you think it will be a
wet afternoon? I am sure I hope so, but the
The Remarkable Rocket 145
sky is quite blue and cloudless. What a pity ! '
"Ahem! ahem!' said the Rocket, and he
began to cough.
'What a delightful voice you have!" cried
the Frog. "Really it is quite like a croak,
and croaking is of course the most musical
sound in the world. You will hear our glee-
club this evening. We sit in the old duck-
pond close by the farmer's house, and as soon
as the moon rises we begin. It is so entran-
cing that everybody lies awake to listen to us.
In fact, it was only yesterday that I heard the
farmer's wife say to her mother that she could
not get a wink of sleep at night on account of
us. It is most gratifying to find oneself so
popular. '
"Ahem! ahem!" said the Rocket angrily.
He was very much annoyed that he could not
get a word in.
"A delightful voice, certainly," continued
the Frog; 'I hope you will come over to the
duck-pond. I am off to look for my daughters.
I have six beautiful daughters, and I am so
afraid the Pike may meet them. He is a
perfect monster, and would have no hesitation
in breakfasting off them. Well, good-bye;
I have enjoyed our conversation very much
I assure you."
146 The Remarkable Rocket
"Conversation, indeed!' said the Rocket,
"You have talked the whole time yourself.
That is not conversation.'
'Somebody must listen/ answered the
Frog, "and I like to do all the talking my-
self. It saves time, and prevents arguments. "
"But I like arguments," said the Rocket.
"I hope not,' said the Frog complacently,
"Arguments are extremely vulgar, for every-
body in good society holds exactly the same
opinions. Good-bye a second time; I see my
daughters in the distance"; and the little
Frog swam away.
'You are a very irritating person,' said
the Rocket, "and very ill-bred. I hate
people who talk about themselves, as you
do, when one wants to talk about oneself,
as I do. It is what I call selfishness, and
selfishness is a most detestable thing, especial-
ly to any one of my temperament, for I am
well known for my sympathetic nature. In
fact, you should take example by me; you
could not possibly have a better model.
Now that you have the chance you had better
avail yourself of it, for I am going back tc
Court almost immediately. I am a great
favourite at Court; in fact, the Prince and
Princess were married yesterday in my hon-
The Remarkable Rocket 147
our. Of course you know nothing of these
matters, for you are a provincial. '
"There is no good talking to him,'" said a
Dragon-fly, who was sitting on the top of a
large brown bulrush; 'no good at all, for he
has gone away. '
"Well, that is his loss, not mine, " answered
the Rocket. ' I am not going to stop talking
to him merely because he pays no attention.
I like hearing myself talk. It is one of my
greatest pleasures. I often have long con-
versations all by myself, and I am so clever
that sometimes I don't understand a single
word of what I am saying. '
'Then you should certainly lecture on
Philosophy,' said the Dragon-fly; and he
spread a pair of lovely gauze wings and soared
away into the sky.
'How very silly of him not to stay here!'
said the Rocket. "I am sure that he has
not often got such a chance of improving his
mind. However, I don't care a bit. Genius
like mine is sure to be appreciated some day " ;
and he sank down a little deeper into the mud.
After some time a large White Duck swam
up to him. She had yellow legs, and webbed
feet, and was considered a great beauty on
account of her waddle.
148 The Remarkable Rocket
"Quack, quack, quack," she said. 'What
a curious shape you are! May I ask were
you born like that, or is it the result of an
accident?'
"It is quite evident that you have always
lived in the country/ answered the Rocket,
"otherwise you would know who I am. How-
ever, I excuse your ignorance. It would be
unfair to expect other people to be as remark-
able as oneself. You will no doubt be sur-
prised to hear that I can fly up into the
sky, and come down in a shower of golden
rain.
'I don't think much of that,' said the
Duck, "as I cannot see what use it is to
any one. Now, if you could plough the fields
like the ox, or draw a cart like the horse, or
look after the sheep like the collie-dog, that
would be something.'
"My good creature," cried the Rocket
in a very haughty tone of voice, "I see that
you belong to the lower orders. A person of
my position is never useful. W2 have certain
accomplishments, and that is more than suffi-
cient. I have no sympathy myself with
industry of any kind, least of all with such
industries as you seem to recommend. Indeed,
I have always been of opinion that hard work
The Remarkable Rocket 149
is simply the refuge of people who have
nothing whatever to do.'
"Well, well," said the Duck, who was
of a very peaceable disposition, and never
quarrelled with any one, " everybody has
different tastes. I hope, at any rate, that
you are going to take up your residence
here."
"Oh dear no!" cried the Rocket. "I am
merely a visitor, a distinguished visitor. The
fact is that I find this place rather tedious.
There is neither society here, nor solitude.
In fact, it is essentially suburban. I shall
probably go back to Court, for I know that
I am destined to make a sensation in the
world."
"I had thoughts of entering public life
once myself,' remarked the Duck; 'there
are so many things that need reforming.
Indeed, I took the chair at a meeting some
time ago, and we passed resolutions con-
demning everything that we did not like.
However, they did not seem to have much
effect. Now I go in for domesticity, and
look after my family.'
"I am made for public life,' said the
Rocket, "and so are all my relations, even
the humblest of them. Whenever we appear
150 The Remarkable Rocket
we excite great attention. I have not actually
appeared myself, but when I do so it will
be a magnificent sight. As for domesticity,
it ages one rapidly, and distracts one's mind
from higher things. '
"Ah! the higher things of life, how fine
they are!" said the Duck; "and that reminds
me how hungry I feel"; and she swam away
down the stream, saying, "Quack, quack,
quack. *
"Come back! come back!' screamed the
Rocket, "I have a great deal to say to you";
but the Duck paid no attention to him. "I
am glad that she has gone," he said to himself;
"she has a decidedly middle-class mind, " and
he sank a little deeper still into the mud, and
began to think about the loneliness of genius,
when suddenly two little boys in white smocks
came running down the bank, with a kettle
and some fagots.
"This must be the deputation," said the
Rocket, and he tried to look very dignified.
"Hallo!" cried one of the boys, "look at
this old stick! I wonder how it came here";
and he picked the Rocket out of the ditch.
"OLD Stick!" said the Rocket; "impos-
sible! GOLD Stick, that is what he said,
Gold Stick is very complimentary, In fact,
The Remarkable Rocket 151
he mistakes me for one of the Court digni-
taries ! J:
"Let us put it into the fire!" said the other
boy; "it will help to boil the kettle/'
So they piled the fagots together, and
put the Rocket on top, and lit the fire.
"This is magnificent, " cried the Rocket;
"they are going to let me off in broad day-
light, so that every one can see me."
"We will go to sleep now," they said,
"and when we wake up the kettle will be
boiled"; and they lay down on the grass, and
shut their eyes.
The Rocket was very damp, so he took
a long time to burn. At last, however, the
fire caught him.
"Now I am going off!" he cried, and he
made himself very stiff and straight. "I
know I shall go much higher than the stars,
much higher than the moon, much higher than
the sun. In fact, I shall go so high that "
Fizz! Fizz! Fizz! and he went straight up
into the air.
"Delightful!" he cried, "I shall go on
like this forever. What a success I am!"
But nobody saw him.
Then he began to feel a curious tingling
sensation all over him.
152 The Remarkable Rocket
"Now I am going to explode,' he cried.
" I shall set the whole world on fire, and make
such a noise that nobody will talk about
anything else for a whole year.' And he
certainly did explode. Bang! Bang! Bang!
went the gunpowder. There was no doubt
about it.
But nobody heard him, not even the two
little boys, for they were sound asleep.
Then all that was left of him was the stick,
and this fell down on the back of a Goose who
was taking a walk by the side of the ditch.
"Good heavens!" cried the Goose. "It
is going to rain sticks"; and she rushed into
the water.
"I knew I should create a great sensation,"
gasped the Rocket, and he went out.
The Birthday of the Infanta
The Birthday of the Infanta
IT was the birthday of the Infanta. She
was just twelve years of age, and the sun
was shining brightly in the gardens of the
palace.
Although she was a real Princess and the
Infanta of Spain, she had only one birth-
day every year, just like the children of quite
poor people, so it was naturally a matter of
great importance to the whole country that
she should have a really fine day for the
occasion. And a really fine day it certainly
was. The tall striped tulips stood straight up
upon their stalks, like long rows of soldiers, and
looked defiantly across the grass at the roses,
and said: "We are quite as splendid as you
are now/ The purple butterflies fluttered
about with gold-dust on their wings, visiting
each flower in turn ; the little lizards crept out
of the crevices of the wall, and lay basking in
the white glare; and the pomegranates split
and cracked with the heat, and showed their
bleeding red hearts. Even the pale yellow
155
156 The Birthday of the Infanta
lemons, that hung in such profusion from the
mouldering trellis and along the dim arcades,
seemed to have caught a richer colour from
the wonderful sunlight, and the magnolia-
trees opened their great globe-like blossoms of
folded ivory, and filled the air with a sweet
heavy perfume.
The little Princess herself walked up and
down the terrace with her companions, and
played at hide and seek round the stone vases
and the old moss-grown statues. On ordinary
days she was only allowed to play with child-
ren of her own rank, so she had always to
play alone, but her birthday was an exception,
and the King had given orders that she was to
invite any of her young friends whom she
liked to come and amuse themselves with her.
There was a stately grace about these slim
Spanish children as they glided about, the
boys with their large-plumed hats and short
fluttering cloaks, the girls holding up the
trains of their long brocaded gowns, and
shielding the sun from their eyes with huge
fans of black and silver. But the Infanta was
the most graceful of all, and the most tastefully
attired, after the somewhat cumbrous fashion
of the day. Her robe was of grey satin,
the skirt and the wide puffed sleeves heavily
The Birthday of the Infanta 157
embroidered with silver, and the stiff corset
studded with rows of fine pearls. Two tiny
slippers with big pink rosettes peeped out
beneath her dress as she walked. Pink and
pearl was her great gauze fan, and in her
hair, which like an aureole of faded gold
stood out stiffly round her pale little face,
she had a beautiful white rose.
From a window in the palace the sad melan-
choly King watched them. Behind him stood
his brother, Don Pedro of Aragon, whom he
hated, and his confessor, the Grand Inquisitor
of Granada, sat by his side. Sadder even than
usual was the King, for as he looked at the
Infanta bowing with childish gravity to the
assembling courtiers, or laughing behind her
fan at the grim Duchess of Albuquerque who
always accompanied her, he thought of the
young Queen, her mother, who but a short
time before so it seemed to him had come
from the gay country of France, and had
withered away in the sombre splendour of
the Spanish Court, dying just six months after
the birth of her child, and before she had
seen the almonds blossom twice in the orchard,
or plucked the second year's fruit from the
old gnarled fig-tree that stood in the centre of
the now grass-grown courtyard. So great
158 The Birthday of the Infanta
had been his love for her that he had not
suffered even the grave to hide her from him.
She had been embalmed by a Moorish phy-
sician, who in return for this service had been
granted his life, which for heresy and suspicion
of magical practices had been already for-
feited, men said, to the Holy Office, and her
body was still lying on its tapestried bier in
the black marble chapel of the palace, just as
the monks had borne her in on that windy
March day nearly twelve years before. Once
every month the King, wrapped in a dark
cloak and with a muffled lantern in his hand,
went in and knelt by her side, calling out,
" Mi reina! Mi reina!" and sometimes break-
ing through the formal etiquette that in
Spain governs every separate action of life,
and sets limits even to the sorrow of a King,
he would clutch at the pale jewelled hands in a
wild agony of grief, and try to wake by his
mad kisses the cold painted face.
To-day he seemed to see her again, as he
had seen her first at the Castle of Fontaine-
bleau, when he was but fifteen years of age,
and she still younger. They had been formally
betrothed on that occasion by the Papal Nuncio
in the presence of the French King and all
the Court, and he had returned to the Escurial
The Birthday of the Infanta 159
bearing with him a little ringlet of yellow hair,
and the memory of two childish lips bending
down to kiss his hand as he stepped into his
carriage. Later on had followed the marriage,
hastily performed at Burgos, a small town on
the frontier between the two countries, and
the grand public entry into Madrid with the
customary celebration of high mass at the
Church of La Atocha, and a more than usu-
ally solemn auto-da-fe, in which nearly three
hundred heretics, amongst whom were many
Englishmen, had been delivered over to the
secular arm to be burned.
Certainly he had loved her madly, and to the
ruin, many thought, of his country, then at
war with England for the possession of the
empire of the New World. He had hardly
ever permitted her to be out of his sight; for
her, he had forgotten, or seemed to have for-
gotten, all grave affairs of State; and, with
that terrible blindness that passion brings
upon its servants, he had failed to notice that
the elaborate ceremonies by which he sought
to please her did but aggravate the strange
malady from which she suffered. When she
died he was, for a time, like one bereft of
reason. Indeed, there is no doubt but that
he would have formally abdicated and retired
160 The Birthday of the Infanta
to the great Trappist monastery at Granada,
of which he was already titular Prior, had he
not been afraid to leave the little Infanta at the
mercy of his brother, whose cruelty, even in
Spain, was notorious, and who was suspected
by many of having caused the Queen's death
by means of a pair of poisoned gloves that he
had presented to her on the occasion of her
visiting his castle in Aragon. Even after the
expiration of the three years of public mourn-
ing that he had ordained throughout his
whole dominions by royal edict, he would
never suffer his ministers to speak about any
new alliance, and when the Emperor him-
self sent to him, and offered him the hand
of the lovely Archduchess of Bohemia, his
niece, in marriage, he bade the ambassadors
tell their master that the King of Spain was
already wedded to Sorrow, and that though
she was but a barren bride he loved her better
than Beauty an answer that cost his crown
the rich provinces of the Netherlands, which
soon after, at the Emperor's instigation,
revolted against him under the leadership
of some fanatics of the Reformed Church.
His whole married life, with its fierce,
fiery-coloured joys and the terrible agony
of its sudden ending, seemed to come back
The Birthday of the Infanta 161
to him to-day as he watched the Infanta
playing on the terrace. She had all the
Queen's pretty petulance of manner, the
same wilful way of tossing her head, the same
proud curved beautiful mouth, the same
wonderful smile vrai sourire de France in-
deed as she glanced up now and then at the
window, or stretched out her little hand for
the stately Spanish gentlemen to kiss. But the
shrill laughter of the children grated on his
ears, and the bright pitiless sunlight mocked
his sorrow, and a dull odour of strange spices,
spices such as embalmers use, seemed to taint
or was it fancy? the clear morning air.
He buried his face in his hands, and when
the Infanta looked up again the curtains had
been drawn, and the King had retired.
She made a little moue of disappointment,
and shrugged her shoulders. Surely he might
have stayed with her on her birthday. What
did the stupid State-affairs matter? Or had
he gone to that gloomy chapel, where the
candles were always burning, and where she
was never allowed to enter? How silly of
him, when the sun was shining so brightly
and everybody was so happy! Besides, he
would miss the sham bull-fight for which the
trumpet was already sounding, to say nothing
IX
162 The Birthday of the Infanta
of the puppet-show and the other wonderful
things. Her uncle and the Grand Inquisitor
were much more sensible. They had come
out on the terrace, and paid her nice com-
pliments. So she tossed her pretty head,
and taking Don Pedro by the hand, she
walked slowly down the steps towards a long
pavilion of purple silk that had been erected
at the end of the garden, the other children
following in strict order of precedence, those
who had the longest names going first.
A procession of noble boys, fantastically
dressed as toreadors, came out to meet her,
and the young Count of Tierra-Nueva, a
wonderfully handsome lad of about fourteen
years of age, uncovering his head with all
the grace of a born hidalgo and grandee of
Spain, led her solemnly in to a little gilt and
ivory chair that was placed on a raised
dais above the arena. The children grouped
themselves all round, fluttering their big
fans and whispering to each other, and Don
Pedro and the Grand Inquisitor stood laugh-
ing at the entrance. Even the Duchess
the Camer era-May or as she was called
a thin, hard-featured woman with a yellow
ruff, did not look quite so bad-tempered as
The Birthday of the Infanta 163
usual, and something like a chill smile flitted
across her wrinkled face and twitched her
thin bloodless lips.
It certainly was a marvellous bull-fight,
and much nicer, the Infanta thought, than
the real bull-fight that she had been brought
to see at Seville, on the occasion of the visit
of the Duke of Parma to her father. Some
of the boys pranced about on richly capari-
soned hobby-horses brandishing long javelins
with gay streamers of bright ribands attached
to them; others went on foot waving their
scarlet cloaks before the bull, and vaulting
lightly over the barrier when he charged them ;
and as for the bull himself, he was just like a
live bull, though he was only made of wicker-
work and stretched hide, and sometimes in-
sisted on running round the arena on his
hind-legs, which no live bull ever dreams of
doing. He made a splendid fight of it too, and
the children got so excited that they stood up
upon the benches, and waved their lace hand-
kerchiefs and cried out: 'Bravo toro! Bravo
toro! ' ' just as sensibly as if they had been grown-
up people. At last, however, after a prolonged
combat, during which several of the hobby-
horses were gored through and through, and
their riders dismounted, the young Count of
164 The Birthday of the Infanta
Tierra-Nueva brought the bull to his knees,
and having obtained permission from the
Infanta to give the coup de grace, he plunged
his wooden sword into the neck of the animal
with such violence that the head came right
off, and disclosed the laughing face of little
Monsieur de Lorraine, the son of the French
Ambassador at Madrid.
The arena was then cleared amidst much
applause, and the dead hobby-horses dragged
solemnly away by two Moorish pages in yellow
and black liveries, and after a short interlude,
during which a French posture-master per-
formed upon the tight-rope, some Italian
puppets appeared in the semi-classical tragedy
of Sophonisba on the stage of a small theatre
that had been built up for the purpose. They
acted so well, and their gestures were so ex-
tremely natural, that at the close of the play
the eyes of the Infanta were quite dim with
tears. Indeed some of the children really cried,
and had to be comforted with sweetmeats, and
the Grand Inquisitor himself was so affected
that he could not help saying to Don Pedro
that it seemed to him intolerable that things
made simply out of wood and coloured wax, and
worked mechanically by wires, should be so un-
happy and meet with such terrible misfortunes.
The Birthday of the Infanta 165
An African juggler followed, who brought
in a large flat basket covered with a red cloth,
and having placed it in the centre of the
arena, he took from his turban a curious
reed pipe, and blew through it. In a few
moments the cloth began to move, and as
the pipe grew shriller and shriller two green
and gold snakes put out their strange wedge-
shaped heads and rose slowly up, swaying to
and fro with the music as a plant sways in the
water. The children, however, were rather
frightened at their spotted hoods and quick
darting tongues, and were much more pleased
when the juggler made a tiny orange-tree
grow out of the sand and bear pretty white
blossoms and clusters of real fruit ; and when he
took the fan of the little daughter of the
Marquess de Las-Torres, and changed it
into a blue bird that flew all round the pavilion
and sang, their delight and amazement knew
no bounds. The solemn minuet, too, per-
formed by the dancing-boys from the church
of Nuestra Senora Del Pilar, was charming.
The Infanta had never before seen this wonder-
ful ceremony which takes place every year at
Maytime in front of the high altar of the
Virgin, and in her honour; and indeed none
of the royal family of Spain had entered the
1 66 The Birthday of the Infanta
great cathedral of Saragossa since a mad
priest, supposed by many to have been in the
pay of Elizabeth of England, had tried to
administer a poisoned wafer to the Prince of
the Asturias. So she had known only by
hearsay of "Our Lady's Dance/' as it was
called, and it certainly was a beautiful sight.
The boys wore old-fashioned court dresses of
white velvet, and their curious three-cornered
hats were fringed with silver and surmounted
with huge plumes of ostrich feathers, the
dazzling whiteness of their costumes, as
they moved about in the sunlight, being
still more accentuated by their swarthy
faces and long black hair. Everybody was
fascinated by the grave dignity with which
they moved through the intricate figures of
the dance, and by the elaborate grace of
their slow gestures and stately bows, and
when they had finished their performance
and doffed their great plumed hats to the
Infanta, she acknowledged their reverence
with much courtesy, and made a vow that
she would send a large wax candle to the
shrine of Our Lady of Pilar in return for the
pleasure that she had given her.
A troupe of handsome Egyptians as the
gipsies were termed in those days then
The Birthday of the Infanta 167
advanced into the arena, and sitting down
cross-legged, in a circle, began to play softly
upon their zithers, moving their bodies to
the tune, and humming, almost below their
breath, a low dreamy air. When they caught
sight of Don Pedro they scowled at him, and
some of them looked terrified, for only a few
weeks before he had had two of their tribe
hanged for sorcery in the market-place at
Seville, but the pretty Infanta charmed them
as she leaned back peeping over her fan with
her great blue eyes, and they felt sure that one
so lovely as she was could never be cruel to
anybody. So they played on very gently and
just touching the cords of the zithers with
their long pointed nails, and their heads be-
gan to nod as though they were falling asleep.
Suddenly, with a cry so shrill that all the
children were startled and Don Pedro's hand
clutched at the agate pommel of his dagger,
they leapt to their feet and whirled madly
round the enclosure beating their tambourines,
and chanting some wild love -song in their
strange guttural language. Then at another
signal they all flung themselves again to the
ground and lay there quite still, the dull
strumming of the zithers being the only
sound that broke the silence. After they had
168 The Birthday of the Infanta
done this several times, they disappeared for
a moment and came back leading a brown
shaggy bear by a chain, and carrying on
their shoulders some little Barbary apes.
The bear stood upon his head with the utmost
gravity, and the wizened apes played all kinds
of amusing tricks with two gipsy boys who
seemed to be their masters, and fought with
tiny swords, and fired off guns, and went
through a regular soldiers' drill just like the
King's own bodyguard. In fact the gipsies
were a great success.
But the funniest part of the whole morn-
ing's entertainment was undoubtedly the danc-
ing of the little Dwarf. When he stumbled
into the arena, waddling on his crooked legs
and wagging his huge misshapen head from
side to side, the children went off into a loud
shout of delight, and the Infanta herself
laughed so much that the Camerera was
obliged to remind her that although there
were many precedents in Spain for a King's
daughter weeping before her equals, there
were none for a Princess of the blood royal
making so merry before those who were her
inferiors in birth. The Dwarf, however, was
really quite irresistible, and even at the
Spanish Court, always noted for its cultivated
The Birthday of the Infanta 169
passion for the horrible, so fantastic a little
monster had never been seen. It was his
first appearance, too. He had been dis-
covered only the day before, running wild
through the forest, by two of the nobles who
happened to have been hunting in a remote
part of the great cork-wood that surrounded
the town, and had been carried off by them to
the palace as a surprise for the Infanta;
his father, who was a poor charcoal-burner,
being but too well pleased to get rid of so
ugly and useless a child. Perhaps the most
amusing thing about him was his complete
unconsciousness of his own grotesque appear-
ance. Indeed he seemed quite happy and
full of the highest spirits. When the child-
ren laughed, he laughed as freely and as
joyously as any of them, and at the close
of each dance he made them each the funniest
of bows, smiling and nodding at them just
as if he was really one of themselves, and not a
little misshapen thing that Nature, in some
humorous mood, had fashioned for others to
mock at. As for the Infanta, she absolutely
fascinated him. He could not keep his eyes
off her, and seemed to dance for her alone, and
when at the close of the performance, remem-
bering how she had seen the great ladies of the
170 The Birthday of the Infanta
Court throw bouquets to Caffarelli, the famous
Italian treble, whom the Pope had sent from
his own chapel to Madrid that he might cure
the King's melancholy by the sweetness of his
voice, she took out of her hair the beautiful
white rose, and partly for a jest and partly to
tease the Camerera, threw it to him across
the arena with her sweetest smile, he took the
whole matter quite seriously, and pressing the
flower to his rough coarse lips he put his hand
upon his heart, and sank on one knee before her,
grinning from ear to ear, and with his little
bright eyes sparkling with pleasure.
This so upset the gravity of the Infanta
that she kept on laughing long after the little
Dwarf had run out of the arena, and expressed
a desire to her uncle that the dance should be
immediately repeated. The Camerera, how-
ever, on the plea that the sun was too hot,
decided that it would be better that her
Highness should return without delay to the
palace, where a wonderful feast had been
already prepared for her, including a real
birthday-cake with her own initials worked
all over it in painted sugar and a lovely silver
flag waving from the top. The Infanta ac-
cordingly rose up with much dignity, and
having given orders that the little Dwarf
The Birthday of the Infanta 171
was to dance again for her after the hour of
siesta, and conveyed her thanks to the young
Count of Tierra-Nueva for his charming
reception, she went back to her apartments,
the children following in the same order in
which they had entered.
Now when the little Dwarf heard that
he was to dance a second time before the
Infanta, and by her own express command,
he was so proud that he ran out into the
garden, kissing the white rose in an absurd
ecstasy of pleasure, and making the most
uncouth and clumsy gestures of delight.
The Flowers were quite indignant at his
daring to intrude into their beautiful home,
and when they saw him capering up and down
the walks, and waving his arms above his
head in such a ridiculous manner, they could
not restrain their feelings any longer.
'He is really far too ugly to be allowed
to play in any place where we are,' cried
the Tulips.
'He should drink poppy-juice, and go to
sleep for a thousand years,' said the great
scarlet Lilies, and they grew quite hot and
angry.
"He is a perfect horror!" screamed
172 The Birthday of the Infanta
Cactus. "Why, he is twisted and stumpy^
and his head is completely out of proportion
with his legs. Really he makes me feel
prickly all over, and if he comes near me I
will sting him with my thorns. '
"And he has actually got one of my best
blooms," exclaimed the white Rose-tree.
41 1 gave it to the Infanta this morning myself,
as a birthday present, and he has stolen it from
her.' And she called out: "Thief, thief,
thief!" at the top of her voice.
Even the red Geraniums, who did not
usually give themselves airs, and were known
to have a great many poor relations them-
selves, curled up in disgust when they saw him,
and when the Violets meekly remarked that
though he was certainly extremely plain, still
he could not help it, they retorted with a good
deal of justice that that was his chief defect,
and that there was no reason why one should
admire a person because he was incurable;
and, indeed, some of the Violets themselves
felt that the ugliness of the little Dwarf was
almost ostentatious, and that he would have
shown much better taste if he had looked
sad, or at least pensive, instead of jumping
about merrily, and throwing himself into
such grotesque and silly attitudes.
The Birthday of the Infanta 173
As for the old Sun-dial, who was an extremely
remarkable individual, and had once told
the time of day to no less a person than the
Emperor Charles V. himself, he was so taken
aback by the little Dwarf's appearance, that he
almost forgot to mark two whole minutes with
his long shadowy finger, and could not help say-
ing to the great milk-white Peacock, who was
sunning herself on the balustrade, that every-
one knew that the children of Kings were
Kings, and that the children of charcoal-
burners were charcoal-burners, and that it
was absurd to pretend that it was n't so ; a
statement with which the Peacock entirely
agreed, and indeed screamed out, "Cer-
tainly, certainly,' in such a loud, harsh
voice, that the goldfish who lived in the
basin of the cool splashing fountain put their
heads out of the water, and asked the huge
stone Tritons what on earth was the matter.
But somehow the Birds liked him. They
had seen him often in the forest, dancing
about like an elf after the eddying leaves,
or crouched up in the hollow of some old
oak-tree, sharing his nuts with the squirrels.
They did not mind his being ugly, a bit.
Why, even the nightingale herself, who sang
so sweetly in the orange groves at night that
174 The Birthday of the Infanta
sometimes the Moon leaned down to listen,
was not much to look at after all ; and, besides,
he had been kind to them, and during that
terribly bitter winter, when there were no
berries on the trees, and the ground was as
hard as iron, and the wolves had come down
to the very gates of the city to look for food,
he had never once forgotten them, but had
always given them crumbs, out of his little
hunch of black bread, and divided with them
whatever poor breakfast he had.
So they flew round and round him, just
touching his cheek with their wings as they
passed, and chattered to each other, and the
little Dwarf was so pleased that he could not
help showing them the beautiful white rose,
and telling them that the Infanta herself had
given it to him because she loved him.
They did not understand a single word
of what he was saying, but that made no
matter, for they put their heads on one side,
and looked wise, which is quite as good as
understanding a thing, and very much easier.
The Lizards also took an immense fancy
to him, and when he grew tired of running
about and flung himself down on the grass to
rest, they played and romped all over him, and
tried to amuse him in the best way they could.
The Birthday of the Infanta 175
"Every one cannot be as beautiful as a liz-
ard," they cried; "that would be too much to
expect. And, though it sounds absurd to say
so, he is really not so ugly after all, provided,
of course, that one shuts one's eyes, and does
not look at him. ' The Lizards were extreme-
ly philosophical by nature, and often sat think-
ing for hours and hours together, when there
was nothing else to do, or when the weather
was too rainy for them to go out.
The Flowers, however, were excessively
annoyed at their behaviour, and at the be-
haviour of the birds. ' It only shows, ' they
said, 'what a vulgarising effect this inces-
sant rushing and flying about has. Well-
bred people always stay exactly in the same
place, as we do. No one ever saw us hop-
ping up and down the walks, or galloping
madly through the grass after dragon-flies.
When we do want change of air, we send
for the gardener, and he carries us to an-
other bed. This is dignified, and as it should
be. But birds and lizards have no sense of
repose, and indeed birds have not even a
permanent address. They are mere vagrants
like the gipsies, and should be treated in
exactly the same manner. ' So they put their
noses in the air, and looked very haughty, and
176 The Birthday of the Infanta
were quite delighted when after some time they
saw the little Dwarf scramble up from the
grass, and make his way across the terrace to
the palace.
"He should certainly be kept indoors for
the rest of his natural life, " they said. ' Look
at his hunched back, and his crooked legs,'
and they began to titter.
But the little Dwarf knew nothing of all
this. He liked the birds and the lizards im-
mensely, and thought that the flowers were
the most marvellous things in the whole
world, except of course the Infanta, but then
she had given him the beautiful white rose,
and she loved him, and that made a great
difference. How he wished that he had
gone back with her! She would have put
him on her right hand, and smiled at him,
and he would have never left her side, but
would have made her his playmate, and
taught her all kinds of delightful tricks.
For though he had never been in a palace
before, he knew a great many wonderful
things. He could make little cages out of
rushes for the grasshoppers to sing in, and
fashion the long- jointed bamboo into the pipe
that Pan loves to hear. He knew the cry
of every bird, and could call the starlings
The Birthday of the Infanta 177
from the tree-top, or the heron from the
mere. He knew the trail of every animal,
and could track the hare by its delicate
footprints, and the boar by the trampled
leaves. All the wild-dances he knew: the
mad dance in red raiment with the autumn,
the light dance in blue sandals over the corn,
the dance with white snow-wreaths in winter,
and the blossom-dance through the orchards
in spring. He knew where the wood-pigeons
built their nests, and once when a fowler had
snared the parent birds, he had brought up
the young ones himself, and had built a little
dove-cot for them in the cleft of a pollard
elm. They were quite tame, and used to feed
out of his hands every morning. She would
like them, and the rabbits that scurried about
in the long fern, and the jays with their steely
feathers and black bills, and the hedgehogs
that could curl themselves up into prickly
balls, and the great wise tortoises that crawled
slowly about, shaking their heads and nib-
bling at the young leaves. Yes, she must
certainly come to the forest and play with
him. He would give her his own little bed,
and would watch outside the window till
dawn, to see that the wild horned cattle did
not harm her, nor the gaunt wolves creep too
178 The Birthday of the Infanta
near the hut. And at dawn he would tap at
the shutters and wake her, and they would
go out and dance together all the day long.
It was really not a bit lonely in the forest.
Sometimes a Bishop rode through on his
white mule, reading out of a painted book.
Sometimes in their green velvet caps, and
their jerkins of tanned deerskin, the falconers
passed by, with hooded hawks on their wrists.
At vintage-time came the grape- treaders, with
purple hands and feet, wreathed with glossy
ivy and carrying dripping skins of wine;
and the charcoal-burners sat round their
huge braziers at night, watching the dry
logs charring slowly in the fire, and roast-
ing chestnuts in the ashes, and the robbers
came cut of their caves and made merry with
them. Once, too, he had seen a beautiful
procession winding up the long dusty road to
Toledo. The monks went in front singing
sweetly, and carrying bright banners and
crosses of gold, and then, in silver armour,
with matchlocks and pikes, came the soldiers,
and in their midst walked three barefooted
men, in strange yellow dresses painted all
over with wonderful figures, and carrying
lighted candles in their hands. Certainly
there was a great deal to look at in the forest,
The Birthday of the Infanta 179
and when she was tired he would find a soft
bank of moss for her, or carry her in his arms,
for he was very strong, though he knew that
he was not tall. He would make her a neck-
lace of red bryony berries, that would be
quite as pretty as the white berries that she
wore on her dress, and when she was tired
of them, she could throw them away, and
he would find her others. He would bring
her acorn-cups and dew-drenched anemones,
and tiny glowworms to be stars in the pale
gold of her hair.
But where was she? He asked the white
rose, and it made him nc answer. The whole
palace seemed asleep, and even where the
shutters had not been closed, heavy curtains
had been drawn across the windows to keep
out the glare. He wandered all round looking
for some place through which he might gain
an entrance, and at last he caught sight of a
little private door that was lying open. He
slipped through, and found himself in a splen-
did hall, far more splendid, he feared, than the
forest, there was so much more gilding every-
where, and even the floor was made of great
coloured stones, fitted together into a sort
of geometrical pattern But the little Infanta
i8o The Birthday of the Infanta
was not there, only some wonderful white
statues that looked down on him from their
jasper pedestals, with sad blank eyes and
strangely smiling lips.
At the end of the hall hung a richly embroid-
ered curtain of black velvet, powdered with
suns and stars, the King's favourite devices,
and broidered on the colour he loved best.
Perhaps she was hiding behind that? He
would try at any rate.
So he stole quietly across, and drew it aside.
No; there was only another room, though a
prettier room, he thought, than the one he had
just left. The walls were hung with a many-
figured green arras of needle-wrought tapestry
representing a hunt, the work of some Flemish
artists who had spent more than seven years in
its composition. It had once been the chamber
of Jean le Fou, as he was called, that mad
King who was so enamoured of the chase,
that he had often tried in his delirium to
mount the huge rearing horses, and to drag
down the stag on which the great hounds
were leaping, sounding his hunting-horn, and
stabbing with his dagger at the pale flying
deer. It was now used as the council-room,
and on the centre table were lying the red
portfolios of the ministers, stamped with
The Birthday of the Infanta 181
the gold tulips of Spain, and with the arms
and emblems of the house of Hapsburg.
The little Dwarf looked in wonder all
round him, and was half -afraid to go on. The
strange silent horsemen that galloped so
swiftly through the long glades without
making any noise, seemed to him like those
terrible phantoms of whom he had heard
the charcoal-burners speaking the Com-
prachos, who hunt only at night, and if they
meet a man, turn him into a hind, and chase
him. But he thought of the pretty Infanta,
and took courage. He wanted to find her
alone, and to tell her that he too loved her.
Perhaps she was in the room beyond.
He ran across the soft Moorish carpets,
and opened the door. No ! She was not here
either. The room was quite empty.
It was a throne-room, used for the reception
of foreign ambassadors, when the King,
which of late had not been often, consented
to give them a personal audience; the same
room in which, many years before, envoys had
appeared from England to make arrange-
ments for the marriage of their Queen, then
one of the Catholic sovereigns of Europe,
with the Emperor's eldest son. The hangings
were of gilt Cordovan leather, and a heavy
1 82 The Birthday of the Infanta
gilt chandelier with branches for three hundred
wax lights hung down from the black and
white ceiling. Underneath a great canopy
of gold cloth, on which the lions and towers
of Castile were broidered in seed-pearls, stood
the throne itself, covered with a rich pall of
black velevet studded with silver tulips and
elaborately fringed with silver and pearls.
On the second step of the throne was placed
the kneeling-stool of the Infanta, with its
cushion of cloth of silver tissue, and below
that again, and beyond the limit of the canopy,
stood the chair for the Papal Nuncio, who
alone had the right to be seated in the King's
presence on the occasion of any public cere-
monial, and whose Cardinal's hat, with its
tangled scarlet tassels, lay on a purple tabouret
in front. On the wall, facing the throne,
hung a life-size portrait of Charles V. in
hunting-dress, with a great mastiff by his
side, and a picture of Philip II. receiving the
homage of the Netherlands occupied the
centre of the other wall. Between the win-
dows stood a black ebony cabinet, inlaid with
plates of ivory, on which the figures from
Holbein's Dance of Death had been graved
by the hand, some said, of that famous master
himself.
The Birthday of the Infanta 183
But the little Dwarf cared nothing for
all this magnificence. He would not have
given his rose for all the pearls on the canopy,
nor one white petal of his rose for the throne
itself. What he wanted was to see the In-
fanta before she went down to the pavilion,
and to ask her to come away with him when
he had finished his dance. Here, in the
Palace, the air was close and heavy, but in the
forest the wind blew free, and the sunlight
with wandering hands of gold moved the
tremulous leaves aside. There were flowers,
too, in the forest, not so splendid, perhaps,
as the flowers in the garden, but more sweetly
scented for all that; hyacinths in early spring
that flooded with waving purple the cool
glens, and grassy knolls; yellow primroses
that nestled in little clumps round the gnarled
roots of the oak-trees; bright celandine, and
blue speedwell, and irises lilac and gold.
There were grey catkins on the hazels, and
the foxgloves drooped with the weight of their
dappled bee-haunted cells. The chestnut had
its spires of white stars, and the hawthorn its
pallid moons of beauty. Yes, surely she
would come if he could only find her! She
would come with him to the fair forest, and
all day long he would dance for her delight.
1 84 The Birthday of the Infanta
A smile lit up his eyes at the thought, and
he passed into the next room.
Of all the rooms this was the brightest
and the most beautiful. The walls were
covered with a pink-flowered Lucca damask,
patterned with birds and dotted with dainty
blossoms of silver; the furniture was of mas-
sive silver, festooned with florid wreaths, and
swinging Cupids; in front of the two large
fireplaces stood great screens broidered with
parrots and peacocks, and the floor, which
was of sea-green onyx, seemed to stretch
far away into the distance. Nor was he
alone. Standing under the shadow of the
doorway, at the extreme end of the room,
he saw a little figure watching him. His
heart trembled, a cry of joy broke from his
lips, and he moved out into the sunlight.
As he did so, the figure moved out also,
and he saw it plainly.
The Infanta! It was a monster, the most
grotesque monster he had ever beheld. Not
properly shaped, as all other people were,
but hunchbacked, and crooked-limbed, with
huge lolling head and mane of black hair.
The little Dwarf frowned, and the monster
frowned also. He laughed, and it laughed
with him, and held its hands to its sides, just
The Birthday of the Infanta 185
as he himself was doing. He made it a
mocking bow, and it returned him a low
reverence. He went towards it, and it came
to meet him, copying each step that he
made, and stopping when he stopped him-
self. He shouted with amusement, and ran
forward, and reached out his hand, and the
hand of the monster touched his, and it was
as cold as ice. He grew afraid, and moved
his hand across, and the monster's hand
followed it quickly. He tried to press on,
but something smooth and hard stopped
him. The face of the monster was now
close to his own, and seemed full of terror.
He brushed his hair off his eyes. It imitated
him. He struck at it, and it returned blow
for blow. He loathed it, and it made hideous
faces at him. He drew back, and it retreated.
What is it? He thought for a moment,
and looked round at the rest of the room.
It was strange, but everything seemed to
have its double in this invisible wall of clear
water. Yes, picture for picture was repeated,
and couch for couch. The sleeping Faun
that lay in the alcove by the doorway had
its twin-brother that slumbered, and the
silver Venus that stood in the sunlight held
out her arms to a Venus as lovely as herself.
186 The Birthday of the Infanta
Was it Echo? He had called to her once
in the valley, and she had answered him word
for word. Could she mock the eye, as she
mocked the voice? Could she make a mimic
world just like the real world? Could the
shadows of things have colour and life and
movement? Could it be that ?
He started, and taking from his breast
the beautiful white rose, he turned round,
and kissed it. The monster had a rose of
its own, petal for petal the same! It kissed
it with like kisses, and pressed it to its heart
with horrible gestures.
When the truth dawned upon him, he
gave a wild cry of despair, and fell sobbing
to the ground. So it was he who was mis-
shapen and hunchbacked, foul to look at
and grotesque. He himself was the monster,
and it was at him that all the children had
been laughing, and the little Princess who
he had thought loved him she too had been
merely mocking at his ugliness, and making
merry over his twisted limbs. Why had
they not left him in the forest, where there
was no mirror to tell him how loathsome he
was? Why had his father not killed him,
rather than sell him to his shame? The
hot tears poured down his cheeks, and he
The Birthday of the Infanta 187
tore the white rose to pieces. The sprawling
monster did the same, and scattered the
faint petals in the air. It grovelled on the
ground, and, when he looked at it, it watched
him with a face drawn with pain. He crept
away, lest he should see it, and covered his
eyes with his hands. He crawled, like some
wounded thing, into the shadow, and lay
there moaning.
And at that moment the Infanta herself
came in with her companions through the
open window, and when they saw the ugly
little Dwarf lying on the ground and beating
the floor with his clenched hands, in the most
fantastic and exaggerated manner, they went
off into shouts of happy laughter, and stood
all round him and watched him.
'His dancing was funny,' said the In-
fanta ; " but his acting is funnier still. Indeed,
he is almost as good as the puppets, only of
course not quite so natural. ' ' And she fluttered
her big fan, and applauded.
But the little Dwarf never looked up, and
his sobs grew fainter and fainter, and suddenly
he gave a curious gasp, and clutched his side.
And then he fell back again, and lay quite still.
"That is capital," said the Infanta, after a
pause; "but now you must dance for me.'
1 88 The Birthday of the Infanta
"Yes," cried all the children, "you must
get up and dance, for you are as clever as the
Barbary apes, and much more ridiculous."
But the little Dwarf made no answer
And the Infanta stamped her foot, and
called out to her uncle, who was walking on
the terrace with the Chamberlain, reading
some despatches that had just arrived from
Mexico, where the Holy Office had recently
been established. "My funny little dwarf is
sulking," she cried; "you must wake him up,
and tell him to dance for me.'
They smiled at each other, and sauntered
in, and Don Pedro stooped down, and slapped
the Dwarf on the cheek with his embroidered
glove. "You must dance," he said, "petit
monstre. You must dance. The Infanta of
Spain and the Indies wishes to be amused.'
But the little Dwarf never moved.
"A whipping master should be sent for,'
said Don Pedro wearily, and he went back
to the terrace. But the Chamberlain looked
grave, and he knelt beside the little Dwarf,
and put his hand upon his heart. And after
a few moments he shrugged his shoulders,
and rose up, and having made a low bow to
the Infanta, he said:
"Aft bella Princesa, your funny little dwarf
The Birthday of the Infanta 189
will never dance again. It is a pity, for he
is so ugly that he might have made the King
smile. *
"But why will he not dance again?'' asked
the Infanta, laughing.
'Because his heart is broken/ answered
the Chamberlain.
And the Infanta frowned, and her dainty
rose-leaf lips curled in pretty disdain. "For
the future let those who come to play with
me have no hearts,' she cried, and she ran
out into the garden.
The Fisherman and his Soul
The Fisherman and his Soul
EVERY evening the young Fisherman went
out upon the sea, and threw his nets
into the water.
When the wind blew from the land he
caught nothing, or but little at best, for it
was a bitter and black- winged wind, and
rough waves rose up to meet it. But when
the wind blew to the shore, the fish came in
from the deep, and swam into the meshes of
his nets, and he took them to the market-
place and sold them.
Every evening he went out upon the sea,
and one evening the net was so heavy that
hardly could he draw it into the boat. And
he laughed, and said to himself, 'Surely I
have caught all the fish that swim, or snared
some dull monster that will be a marvel to
men, or some thing of horror that the great
Queen will desire,' and putting forth all his
strength, he tugged at the coarse ropes till,
like lines of blue enamel round a vase of
bronze, the long veins rose up on his arms.
13 193
194 The Fisherman and his Soul
He tugged at the thin ropes, and nearer and
nearer came the circle of flat corks, and the
net rose at last to the top of the water.
But no fish at all was in it, nor any monster
or thing of horror, but only a little Mermaid
lying fast asleep.
Her hair was as a wet fleece of gold, and
each separate hair as a thread of fine gold in a
cup of glass. Her body was as white ivory,
and her tail was of silver and pearL Silver
and pearl was her tail, and the green weeds
of the sea coiled round it; and like sea-shells
were her ears, and her lips were like sea-coral.
The cold waves dashed over her cold breasts
and the salt glistened upon her eyelids.
So beautiful was she that when the young
Fisherman saw her he was filled with wonder,
and he put out his hand and drew the net
close to him, and leaning over the side he
clasped her in his arms. And when he
touched her, she gave a cry like a startled sea-
gull and woke, and looked at him in terror
with her mauve-amethyst eyes, and struggled
that she might escape. But he held her
tightly to him, and would not suffer her to
depart.
And when she saw that she could in no
way escape from him, she began to weep,
The Fisherman and his Soul 195
and said, "I pray thee let me go, for I am the
only daughter of a King, and my father is
aged and alone.'
But the young Fisherman answered, "I
will not let thee go save thou makest me a
promise that whenever I call thee, thou wilt
come and sing to me, for the fish delight to
listen to the song of the Sea-folk, and so shall
my nets be full. '
"Wilt thou in very truth let me go, if I
promise thee this?" cried the Mermaid.
"In very truth I will let thee go,' said
the young Fisherman.
vSo she made him the promise he desired,
and sware it by the oath of the Sea-folk.
And he loosened his arms from about her,
and she sank down into the water, trembling
with a strange fear.
Every evening the young Fisherman went
out upon the sea, and called to the Mermaid,
and she rose out of the water and sang to
him. Round and round her swam the dol-
phins, and the wild gulls wheeled above her
head.
And she sang a marvellous song. For
she sang of the Sea-folk who drive their flocks
from cave to cave, and carry the little calves
on their shoulders; of the Tritons who have
196 The Fisherman and his Soul
long green beards and hairy breasts, and
blow through twisted conches when the King
passes by; of the palace of the King which is
all of amber, with a roof of clear emerald,
and a pavement of bright pearl; and of the
gardens of the sea where the great filigrane
fans of coral wave all day long, and the fish
dart about like silver birds, and the anemones
cling to the rocks, and the pinks bourgeon in
the ribbed yellow sand. She sang of the
big whales that come down from the north
seas and have sharp icicles hanging to their
fins; of the Sirens who tell of such wonderful
things that the merchants have to stop their
ears with wax lest they should hear them, and
leap into the water and be drowned; of the
sunken galleys with their tall masts, and the
frozen sailors clinging to the rigging, and
the mackerel swimming in and out of the open
portholes ; of the little barnacles who are great
travellers, and cling to the keels of the ships
and go round and round the world; and of the
cuttlefish who live in the sides of the cliffs
and stretch out their long black arms, and
can make night come when they will it. She
sang of the nautilus who has a boat of her
own that is carved out of an opal and steered
with a silken sail; of the happy Mermen who
The Fisherman and his Soul 197
play upon harps and can charm the great
Kraken to sleep; of the little children who
catch hold of the slippery porpoises and ride
laughing upon their backs; of the Mermaids
who lie in the white foam and hold out their
arms to the mariners; and of the sea-lions
with their curved tusks, and the sea-horses
with their floating manes.
And as she sang, all the tunny-fish came
in from the deep to listen to her, and the
young Fisherman threw his nets round them
and caught them, and others he took with a
spear. And when his boat was well-laden,
the Mermaid would sink down into the sea,
smiling at him.
Yet would she never come near him that
he might touch her. Oftentimes he called
to her and prayed of her, but she would not;
and when he sought to seize her she dived into
the water as a seal might dive, nor did he see
her again that day. And each day the sound
of her voice became sweeter to his ears. So
sweet was her voice that he forgot his nets
and his cunning, and had no care of his craft.
Vermilion-finned and with eyes of bossy gold,
the tunnies went by in shoals, but he heeded
them not. His spear lay by his side unused,
and his baskets of plaited osier were empty,
X9 8 The Fisherman and his Soul
With lips parted, and eyes dim with wonder,
he sat idle in his boat and listened, listening
till the sea-mists crept round him, and the
wandering moon stained his brown limbs
with silver.
And one evening he called to her, and said:
"Little Mermaid, little Mermaid, I love thee.
Take me for thy bridegroom, for I love thee."
But the Mermaid shook her head. "Thou
hast a human soul,' she answered. "If
only thou wouldst send away thy soul, then
could I love thee. '
And the young Fisherman said to him-
self: "Of what use is my soul to me? I can-
not see it. I may not touch it. I do not
know it. Surely I will send it away from me,
and much gladness shall be mine.' And a
cry of joy broke from his lips, and standing
up in the painted boat, he held out his arms
to the Mermaid. "I will send my soul away, '
he cried, "and you shall be my bride, and I will
be thy bridegroom, and in the depth of the
sea we will dwell together, and all that thou
hast sung of thou shalt show me, and all that
thou desirest I will do, nor shall our lives be
divided."
And the little Mermaid laughed for pleas-
ure, and hid her face in her hands.
The Fisherman and his Soul 199
"But how shall I send my soul from me?"
cried the young Fisherman. "Tell me how
I may do it, and lo! it shall be done.'
"Alas! I know not," said the little Mer-
maid; "the Sea-folk have no souls." And she
sank down into the deep, looking wistfully
at him.
Now early on the next morning, before
the sun was the span of a man's hand above
the hill, the young Fisherman went to the
house of the Priest and knocked three times
at the door.
The novice looked out through the wicket,
and when he saw who it was, he drew back the
latch and said to him, 'Enter.'
And the young Fisherman passed in, and
knelt down on the sweet-smelling rushes of the
floor, and cried to the Priest who was reading
out of the Holy Book and said to him: "Father,
I am in love with one of the Sea-folk, and my
soul hindereth me from having my desire.
Tell me how I can send my soul away from
me, for in truth I have no need of it. Of
what value is my soul to me? I cannot see
it. I may not touch it. I do not know it. '
And the Priest beat his breast, and answered:
"Alack, alack, thou art mad, or hast eaten of
200 The Fisherman and his Soul
some poisonous herb, for the soul is the noblest
part of man, and was given to us by God
that we should nobly use it. There is no
thing more precious than a human soul, nor
any earthly thing that can be weighed with it.
It is worth all the gold that is in the world,
and is more precious than the rubies of the
kings. Therefore, my son, think not any
more of this matter, for it is a sin that may
not be forgiven. And as for the Sea-folk,
they are lost, and they who would traffic with
them are lost also. They are as the beasts
of the field that know not good from evil,
and for them the Lord has not died. "
The young Fisherman's eyes filled with
tears when he heard the bitter words of the
Priest, and he rose up from his knees and
said to him: "Father, the Fauns live in the
forest and are glad, and on the rocks sit the
Mermen with their harps of red gold. Let me
be as they are, I beseech thee, for their days
are as the days of flowers. And as for my soul,
what doth my soul profit me, if it stand be-
tween me and the thing that I love?"
"The love of the body is vile," cried the
Priest, knitting his brows, "and vile and evil
are the pagan things God suffers to wander
through His world. Accursed be the Fauns
The Fisherman and his Soul 201
of the woodland, and accursed be the singers
of the sea! I have heard them at night-time
and they have sought to lure me from my
beads. They tap at the window, and laugh.
They whisper into my ears the tale of their
perilous joys. They tempt me with tempta-
tions, and when I would pray they make
mouths at me. They are lost, I tell thee,
they are lost. For them there is no heaven
nor hell, and in neither shall they praise God's
name.
u
41
Father,' cried the young Fisherman,
thou knowest not what thou sayest. Once
in my net I snared the daughter of a King.
She is fairer than the morning star, and whiter
than the moon. For her body I would give
my soul, and for her love I would surrender
heaven. Tell me what I ask of thee, and let
me go in peace. '
"Away! Away!" cried the Priest; "thy
leman is lost, and thou shalt be lost with
her." And he gave him no blessing, but
drove him from his door.
And the young Fisherman went down
into the market-place, and he walked slowly,
and with bowed head, as one who is in sorrow.
And when the merchants saw him coming,
they began to whisper to each other, and
2O2 The Fisherman and his Soul
one of them came forth to meet him, and
called him by name, and said to him, "What
hast thou to sell?'
"I will sell thee my soul,' he answered:
"I pray thee buy it of me, for I am weary
of it. Of what use is my soul to me? I
cannot see it. I may not touch it. I do not
know it. '
But the merchants mocked at him, and
said: "Of what use is a man's soul to us?
It is not worth a clipped piece of silver. Sell
us thy body for a slave, and we will clothe thee
in sea-purple, and put a ring upon thy finger,
and make thee the minion of the great Queen.
But talk not of the soul, for to us it is nought,
nor has it anv value for our service. "
mf
And the young Fisherman said to him-
self : ' ' How strange a thing this is ! The Priest
telleth me that the soul is worth all the gold
in the world, and the merchants say that it is
not worth a clipped piece of silver. ' And he
passed out of the market-place, and went
down to the shore of the sea, and began to
ponder on what he should do.
And at noon he remembered how one of
his companions, who was a gatherer of sam-
phire, had told him of a certain young Witch
The Fisherman and his Soul 203
who dwelt in a cave at the head of the bay
and was very cunning in her witcheries.
And he set to and ran, so eager was he to get
rid of his soul, and a cloud of dust followed him
as he sped round the sand of the shore. By
the itching of her palm the young Witch knew
his coming, and she laughed and let down her
red hair. With her red hair falling around
her, she stood at the opening of the cave,
and in her hand she had a spray of wild
hemlock that was blossoming.
"What d'ye lack? What d'ye lack?"
she cried, as he came panting up the steep,
and bent down before her. "Fish for thy
net, when the wind is foul? I have a little
reed-pipe, and when I blow on it the mullet
come sailing into the bay. But it has a
price, pretty boy, it has a price. What
d' ye lack? What d' ye lack? A storm to
wreck the ships, and wash the chests of rich
treasure ashore? I have more storms than
the wind has, for I serve one who is stronger
than the wind, and with a sieve and a pail of
water I can send the great galleys to the
bottom of the sea. But I have a price, pretty
boy, I have a price. What d' ye lack? What
d' ye lack? I know a flower that grows in
the valley, none knows it but I. It has purple
204 The Fisherman and his Soul
leaves, and a star in its heart, and its juice is
as white as milk. Shouldst thou touch with
this flower the hard lips of the Queen, she
would follow thee all over the wo~ld. Out
of the bed of the King she would rise, and
over the whole world she would follow thee.
And it has a price, pretty boy, it has a price.
What d' ye lack? What d' ye lack? I can
pound a toad in a mortar, and make broth of
it, and stir the broth with a dead man's hand.
Sprinkle it on thine enemy while he sleeps,
and he will turn into a black viper, and his
own mother will slay him. With a wheel I
can draw the Moon from heaven, and in a
crystal I can show thee Death. What d' ye
lack? What d' ye lack? Tell me thy desire,
and I will give it thee, and thou shalt pay me a
price, pretty boy, thou shalt pay me a price. '
'My desire is but for a little thing,' said
the young Fisherman, "yet hath the Priest
been wroth with me, and driven me forth.
It is but for a little thing, and the merchants
have mocked at me, and denied me. There-
fore am I come to thee, though men call
thee evil, and whatever be thy price I shall
pay it.'
"What wouldst thou?" asked the Witch,
coming near to him.
The Fisherman and his Soul 205
"I would send my soul away from me,'
answered the young Fisherman.
The Witch grew pale, and shuddered, and
hid her face in her blue mantle. "Pretty
boy, pretty boy,' she muttered, 'that is a
terrible thing to do."
He tossed his brown curls and laughed.
"My soul is nought to me/ he answered.
"I cannot see it. I may not touch it. I do
not know it. '
"What wilt thou give me if I tell thee?"
asked the Witch, looking down at him with
her beautiful eyes.
"Five pieces of gold," he said, "and my
nets, and the wattled house where I live,
and the painted boat in which I sail. Only
tell me how to get rid of my soul, and I will
give thee all that I possess.'
She laughed mockingly at him, and struck
him with the spray of hemlock. "I can turn
the autumn leaves into gold, ' she answered,
"and I can weave the pale moonbeams into
silver if I will it. He whom I serve is richer
than all the kings of this world, and has their
dominions. '
"What then shall I give thee," he cried,
"if thy price be neither gold nor silver?'
The Witch stroked his hair with her thin
2o6 The Fisherman and his Soul
white hand. "Thou must dance with me,
pretty boy,' she murmured, and she smiled
at him as she spoke.
" Nought but that? " cried the young Fisher-
man in wonder, and he rose to his feet.
"Nought but that,' she answered, and
she smiled at him again.
"Then at sunset in some secret place we
shall dance together,' he said, 'and after
that we have danced thou shalt tell me the
thing which I desire to know.'
She shook her head. 'When the moon
is full, when the moon is full, ' ' she muttered.
Then she peered all round, and listened. A
blue bird rose screaming from its nest and
circled over the dunes, and three spotted
birds rustled through the coarse grey grass
and whistled to each other. There was no
other sound save the sound of a wave
fretting the smooth pebbles below. So she
reached out her hand, and drew him near
to her and put her dry lips close to his
ear.
"To-night thou must come to the top
of the mountain,' she whispered. "It is a
Sabbath, and He will be there. '
The young Fisherman started and looked
at her, and she showed her white teeth and
The Fisherman and his Soul 207
laughed. 'Who is He of whom thoii speak-
est?" he asked.
"It matters not,' she answered. "Go
thou to-night, and stand under the branches
of the hornbeam, and wait for my coming.
If a black dog run towards thee, strike it
with a rod of willow, and it will go away.
If an owl speak to thee, make it no an-
swer. When the moon is full I shall be with
thee, and we will dance together on the
grass. '
"But wilt thou swear to me to tell me
how I may send my soul from me?" he made
question.
She moved out into the sunlight, and
through her red hair rippled the wind. ''By
the hoofs of the goat I swear it,' she made
answer.
"Thou art the best of the witches,' cried
the young Fisherman, 'and I will surely
dance with thee to-night on the top of the
mountain. I would indeed that thou hadst
asked of me either gold or silver. But such
as thy price is thou shalt have it, for it is
but a little thing." And he doffed his cap
to her, and bent his head low, and ran back
to the town filled with a great joy.
And the Witch watched him as he went,
208 The Fisherman and his Soul
and when he had passed from her sight she
entered her cave, and having taken a mirror
from a box of carved cedar- wood, she set it up
on a frame, and burned vervain on lighted
charcoal before it, and peered through the
coils of the smoke. And after a time she
clenched her hands in anger. "He should
have been mine," she muttered; "I am as
fair as she is."
And that evening, when the moon had
risen, the young Fisherman climbed up to
the top of the mountain, and stood under
the branches of the hornbeam. Like a targe
of polished metal the round sea lay at his
feet, and the shadows of the fishing boats
moved in the little bay. A great owl, with
yellow sulphurous eyes, called to him by his
name, but he made it no answer. A black
dog ran towards him and snarled. He struck
it with a rod of willow, and it went away
whining.
At midnight the witches came flying through
the air like bats. ' ' Phew ! ' ' they cried, as they
lit upon the ground, " there is some one here
we know not!" and they sniffed about, and
chattered to each other, and made signs.
Last of all came the young Witch, with her
The Fisherman and his Soul 209
red hair streaming in the wind. She wore a
dress of gold-tissue embroidered with pea-
cocks' eyes, and a little cap of green velvet
was on her head.
"Where is he, where is he?' shrieked
the witches when they saw her, but she only
laughed, and ran to the hornbeam, and taking
the Fisherman by the hand she led him out
into the moonlight and began to dance.
Round and round they whirled, and the
young Witch jumped so high that he could
see the scarlet heels of her shoes. Then
right across the dancers came the sound of
the galloping of a horse, but no horse was
to be seen, and he felt afraid.
"Faster," cried the Witch, and she threw
her arms about his neck, and her breath was
hot upon his face. "Faster, faster!' she
cried, and the earth seemed to spin beneath
his feet, and his brain grew troubled, and a
great terror fell on him, as of some evil
thing that was watching him, and at last he
became aware that under the shadow of a
rock there was a figure that had not been there
before.
It was a man dressed in a suit of black
velvet, cut in the Spanish fashion. His face
was strangely pale, but his lips were like a
210 The Fisherman and his Soul
proud red flower. He seemed weary, and
was leaning back toying in a listless manner
with the pommel of his dagger. On the grass
beside him lay a plumed hat, and a pair of
riding-gloves gauntlet ed with gilt lace, and
sewn with seed-pearls wrought into a curious
device. A short cloak lined with sables hung
from his shoulder, and his delicate white hands
Were gemmed with rings. Heavy eyelids
drooped over his eyes.
The young Fisherman watched him, as
one snared in a spell. At last their eyes met,
and wherever he danced it seemed to him
that the eyes of the man were upon him.
He heard the Witch laugh, and caught her
by the waist, and whirled her madly round
and round.
Suddenly a dog bayed in the wood, and
the dancers stopped, and going up two by
two, knelt down, and kissed the man's hands.
As they did so, a little smile touched his
proud lips, as a bird's wing touches the water
and makes it laugh. But there was disdain in
it. He kept looking at the young Fisherman.
"Come! let us worship,' whispered the
Witch, and she led him up, and a great desire
to do as she besought him seized on him, and
he followed her. But when he came close,
The Fisherman and his Soul 211
and without knowing why he did it, he made
on his breast the sign of the cross, and called
upon the holy name.
No sooner had he done so than the witches
screamed like hawks and flew away, and
the pallid face that had been watching him
twitched with a spasm of pain. The man
went over to a little wood, and whistled.
A jennet with silver trappings came running
to meet him. As he leapt upon the saddle
he turned round, and looked at the young
Fisherman sadly.
And the Witch with the red hair tried
to fly away also, but the Fisherman caught
her by her wrists, and held her fast.
"Loose me,' she cried, "and let me go.
For thou hast named what should not be
named, and shown the sign that may not
be looked at. '
"Nay," he answered, "but I will not let
thee go till thou hast told me the secret.'
"What secret?" said the Witch, wrestling
with him like a wild cat, and biting her foam-
flecked lips.
" Thou knowest, " he made answer.
Her grass-green eyes grew dim with tears,
and she said to the Fisherman, "Ask me any-
thin^ but that!"
212 The Fisherman and his Soul
He laughed, and held her all the more
tightly.
And when she saw that she could not free her-
self, she whispered to him, "Surely I am as fair
as the daughters of the sea, and as comely as
those that dwell in the blue waters, ' ' and she
fawned on him and put her face close to his.
But he thrust her back frowning, and said
to her, "If thou keepest not the promise
that thou madest to me I will slay thee for
a false witch. '
She grew grey as a blossom of the Judas-
tree, and shuddered. "Beit so, " she mut-
tered. "It is thy soul and not mine. Do
with it as thou wilt.' And she took from
her girdle a little knife that had a handle of
green viper's skin, and gave it to him.
"What shall this serve me?" he asked of
her, wondering.
She was silent for a few moments, and
a look of terror came over her face. Then
she brushed her hair back from her fore-
head, and smiling strangely she said to him:
"What men call the shadow of the body is
not the shadow of the body, but is the body
of the soul. Stand on the sea-shore with
thy back to the moon, and cut away from
around thy feet thy shadow, which is thy
The Fisherman and his Soul 213
soul's body, and bid thy soul leave thee, and
it will do so. '
The young Fisherman trembled. "Is this
true?" he murmured.
"It is true, and I would that I had not
told thee of it, ' she cried, and she clung to
his knees weeping.
He put her from him and left her in the
rank grass, and going to the edge of the moun-
tain he placed the knife in his belt and began
to climb down.
And his Soul that was within him called
out to him and said: "Lo! I have dwelt
with thee for all these years, and have been
thy servant. Send me not away from thee
now, for what evil have I done thee?'
And the young Fisherman laughed. "Thou
hast done me no evil, but I have no need of
thee,' he answered, "The world is wide,
and there is Heaven also, and Hell, and that
dim twilight house that lies between. Go
wherever thou wilt, but trouble me not, for
my love is calling to me. '
And his Soul besought him piteously, but
he heeded it not, but leapt from crag to crag,
being sure-footed as a wild goat, and at last
he reached the level ground and the yellow
shore of the sea.
214 The Fisherman and his Soul
Bronze-limbed and well-knit, like a statue
wrought by a Grecian, he stood on the sand
with his back to the moon, and out of the
foam came white arms that beckoned to him,
and out of the waves rose dim forms that did
him homage. Before him lay his shadow,
which was the body of his Soul, and behind
him hung the moon in the honey-coloured
air.
And his Soul said to him: 'If indeed thou
must drive me from thee, send me not forth
without a heart. The world is cruel; give
me thy heart to take with me.'
He tossed his head and smiled. "With
what should I love my love if I gave thee my
heart?" he cried.
"Nay, but be merciful,' said his Soul;
"give me thy heart, for the world is very cruel,
and I am afraid.'
"My heart is my love's/ he answered,
"therefore tarry not, but get thee gone.'
"Should I not love also?' asked his Soul.
" Get thee gone, for I have no need of thee, "
cried the young Fisherman, and he took the
little knife with its handle of green viper's
skin, and cut away his shadow from around
his feet, and it rose up and stood before him,
and looked at him, and it was even as himself.
The Fisherman and his Soul 215
He crept back, and thrust the knife into
his belt, and a feeling of awe came over him.
"Get thee gone," he murmured, "and let me
see thy face no more. '
"Nay, but we must meet again,' said the
Soul. Its voice was low and flute-like, and
its lips hardly moved while it spake.
"How shall we meet?' cried the young
Fisherman. "Thou wilt not follow me into
the depths of the sea?'
"Once every year I will come to this place,
and call to thee, " said the Soul. "It may be
that thou wilt have need of me. '
"What need should I have of thee?'
cried the young Fisherman; "but be it as
thou wilt," and he plunged into the water,
and the Tritons blew their horns, and the
little Mermaid rose up to meet him, and put
her arms around his neck and kissed him on
the mouth.
And the Soul stood on the lonely beach
and watched them. And when they had
sunk down into the sea, it went weeping
away over the marshes.
And after a year was over the Soul came
down to the shore of the sea and called to
the young Fisherman, and he rose out of
216 The Fisherman and his Goul
the deep, and said, "Why dost thou call to
me?"
And the Soul answered, "Come nearer,
that I may speak with thee, for I have seen
marvellous things. '
So he came nearer, and couched in the
shallow water, and leaned his head upon his
hand and listened.
And the Soul said to him ; "When I left thee
I turned my face to the East and journeyed.
From the East cometh everything that
is wise. Six days I journeyed, and on the
morning of the seventh day I came to a hill
that is in the country of the Tartars. I sat
down under the shade of a tamarisk-tree to
shelter myself from the sun. The land was
dry, and burnt up with the heat. The peo-
ple went to and fro over the plain like flies
crawling upon a disk of polished copper.
'When it was noon a cloud of red dust
rose up from the flat rim of the land. When
the Tartars saw it, they strung their painted
bows, and having leapt upon their little
horses they galloped to meet it. The women
fled screaming to the waggons, and hid them-
selves behind the felt curtains.
"At twilight the Tartars returned, but
The Fisherman and his Soul 217
five of them were missing, and of those that
came back not a few had been wounded.
They harnessed their horses to the waggons
and drove hastily away. Three jackals came
out of a cave and peered after them. Then
they sniffed up the air with their nostrils,
and trotted off in the opposite direction.
"When the moon rose I saw a camp-fire
burning on the plain, and went towards it.
A company of merchants were seated round
it on carpets. Their camels were picketed
behind them, and the negroes who were their
servants were pitching tents of tanned skin
upon the sand, and making a high wall of
the prickly pear.
;< As I came near them, the chief of the
merchants rose up and drew his sword, and
asked me my business.
'I answered that I was a Prince in my
own land, and that I had escaped from the
Tartars, who had sought to make me their
slave. The chief smiled, and showed me
five heads fixed upon long reeds of bamboo.
"Then he asked me who was the prophet
of God, and I answered him Mohammed.
"When he heard the name of the false
prophet, he bowed and took me by the hand,
and placed me by his side. A negro brought
218 The Fisherman and his Soul
me some mare's milk in a wooden dish, and
a piece of lamb's flesh roasted.
"At daybreak we started on our journey.
I rode on a red-haired camel by the side of
the chief, and a runner ran before us carrying
a spear. The men of war were on either
hand, and the mules followed with the mer-
chandise. There were forty camels in the
caravan, and the mules were twice forty
in number.
"We went from the country of the Tartars
into the country of those who curse the
Moon. We saw the Gryphons guarding their
gold on the white rocks, and the scaled
Dragons sleeping in their caves. As we passed
over the mountains we held our breath lest
the snows might fall on us, and each man
tied a veil of gauze before his eyes. As we
passed through the valleys the Pygmies
shot arrows at us from the hollows of the
trees, and at night-time we heard the wild
men beating on their drums. When we
came to the Tower of Apes we set fruits
before them, and they did not harm us.
When we came to the Tower of Serpents
we gave them warm milk in bowls of brass,
and they let us go by. Three times in our
journey we came to the banks of the Oxus.
The Fisherman and his Soul 219
We crossed it on rafts of wood with great
bladders of blown hide. The river-horses
raged against us and sought to slay us. When
the camels saw them they trembled.
"The kings of each city levied tolls on
us, but would not suffer us to enter their
gates. They threw us bread over the walls,
little maize-cakes baked in honey and cakes
of fine flour filled with dates. For every
hundred baskets we gave them a bead of
amber.
"When the dwellers in the villages saw
us coming, they poisoned the wells and fled
to the hill-summits. We fought with the
Magadse who are born old, and grow younger
and younger every year, and die when they
are little children; and with the Laktroi who
say that they are the sons of tigers, and paint
themselves yellow and black; and with the
Aurantes who bury their dead on the tops of
trees, and themselves live in dark caverns
lest the Sun, who is their god, should slay
them; and with the Krimnians who worship
a crocodile, and give it ear-rings of green glass,
and feed it with butter and fresh fowls; and
with the Agazonbae, who are dog-faced;
and with the Sibans, who have horses' feet,
and run more swiftly than horses. A third
220 The Fisherman and his Soul
of our company died in battle, and a third died
of want. The rest murmured against me, and
said that I had brought them an evil fortune.
I took a horned adder from beneath a stone
and let it sting me. When they saw that I
did not sicken they grew afraid.
Tn the fourth month we reached the
city of Illel. It was night-time when we
came to the grove that is outside the walls,
and the air was sultry, for the Moon was
travelling in Scorpion. We took the ripe
pomegranates from the trees, and brake
them, and drank their sweet juices. Then
we lay down on our carpets and waited for
the dawn.
"And at dawn we rose and knocked at
the gate of the city. It was wrought out of
red bronze, and carved with sea-dragons and
dragons that have wings. The guards looked
down from the battlements and asked us our
business. The interpreter of the caravan an-
swered that we had come from the island of
Syria with much merchandise. They took
hostages, and told us that they would open the
gate to us at noon, and bade us tarry till then.
'When it was noon they opened the gate,
and as we entered in the people came crowd-
ing out of the houses to look at us, and a
The Fisherman and his Soul 221
crier went round the city crying through a
shell. We stood in the market-place, and the
negroes uncorded the bales of figured cloths
and opened the carved chests of sycamore.
And when they had ended their task, the
merchants set forth their strange wares: the
waxed linen from Egypt and the painted
linen from the country of the Ethiops, the
purple sponges from Tyre and the blue hang-
ings from Sidon, the cups of cold amber and
the fine vessels of glass and the curious vessels
of burnt clay. From the roof of a house a
company of women watched us. One of
them wore a mask of gilded leather.
"And on the first day the priests came
and bartered with us, and on the second
day came the nobles, and on the third day
came the craftsmen and the slaves. And
this is their custom with all merchants as
long as they tarry in the city.
"And we tarried for a moon, and when
the moon was waning, I wearied and wan-
dered away through the streets of the city
and came to the garden of its god. The
priests in their yellow robes moved silently
through the green trees, and on a pavement
of black marble stood the rose-red house in
which the god had his dwelling. Its doors
222 The Fisherman and his Soul
were of powdered lacquer, and bulls and
peacocks were wrought on them in raised
and polished gold. The tiled roof was of
sea-green porcelain, and the jutting eaves
were festooned with little bells. When the
white doves flew past, they struck the bells
with their wings and made them tinkle.
"In front of the temple was a pool of clear
water paved with veined onyx. I lay down
beside it, and with my pale fingers I touched
the broad leaves. One of the priests came
towards me and stood behind me. He had
sandals on his feet, one of soft serpent-skin
and the other of birds' plumage. On his
head was a mitre of black felt decorated with
silver crescents. Seven yellows were woven
into his robe, and his frizzed hair was stained
with antimony.
"After a little while he spake to me, and
asked me my desire.
"I told him that my desire was to see
the god.
"'The god is hunting,' said the priest,
looking strangely at me with his small slanting
eyes.
"'Tell me in what forest, and I will ride
with him,' I answered.
"He combed out the soft fringes of his
The Fisherman and his Soul 223
tunic with his long pointed nails. ' The god
is asleep,' he murmured.
" 'Tell me on what couch, and I will watch
by him,' I answered.
"'The god is at the feast,' he cried.
"'If the wine be sweet I will drink it with
him, and if it be bitter I will drink it with him
also,' was my answer.
"He bowed his head in wonder, and, taking
me by the hand, he raised me up, and led me
into the temple.
"And in the first chamber I saw an idol
seated on a throne of jasper bordered with
great orient pearls. It was carved out of
ebony, and in stature was of the stature of
a man. On its forehead was a ruby, and thick
oil dripped from its hair on to its thighs. Its
feet were red with the blood of a newly-slain
kid, and its loins girt with a copper belt that
was studded with seven beryls.
"And I said to the priest, 'Is this the god?'
And he answered me, ' This is the god.*
"'Show me the god,' I cried, 'or I will
surely slay thee.' And I touched his hand,
and it became withered.
"And the priest besought me, saying,
'Let my lord heal his servant, and I will
show him the god.'
224 The Fisherman and his Soul
"So I breathed with my breath upon his
hand, and it became whole again, and he
trembled and led me into the second chamber,
and I saw an idol standing on a lotus of jade
hung with great emeralds. It was carved
out of ivory, and in stature was twice the
stature of a man. On its forehead was a
chrysolite, and its breasts were smeared with
myrrh and cinnamon. In one hand it held
a crooked sceptre of jade, and in the other a
round crystal. It ware buskins of brass,
and its thick neck was circled with a circle of
selenites.
"And I said to the priest, 'Is this the god?'
And he answered me, 'This is the god/
"'Show me the god,' I cried, 'or I will
surely slay thee.' And I touched his eyes,
and they became blind.
"And the priest besought me, saying,
'Let my lord heal his servant, and I will
show him the god.'
"So I breathed with my breath upon his
eyes, and the sight came back to them, and
he trembled again, and led me into the third
chamber, and lo! there was no idol in it, nor
image of any kind, but only a mirror of round
metal set on an altar of stone.
' ' And I said to the priest, ' Where is the god ? '
The Fisherman and his Soul 225
And he answered me: 'There is no god
but this mirror that thou seest, for this is
the Mirror of Wisdom. And it reflecteth
all things that are in heaven and on earth,
save only the face of him who looketh into
it. This it reflecteth not, so that he who
looketh into it may be wise. Many other
mirrors are there, but they are mirrors of
Opinion. This only is the Mirror of Wisdom.
And they who possess this mirror know
everything, nor is there anything hidden
from them. And they who possess it not have
not Wisdom. Therefore is it the god, and
we worship it.' And I looked into the mirror,
and it was even as he had said to me.
;< And I did a strange thing, but what I did
matters not, for in a valley that is but a day's
journey from this place have I hidden the
Mirror of Wisdom. Do but suffer me to enter
into thee again and be thy servant, and thou
shalt be wiser than all the wise men, and
Wisdom shall be thine. Suffer me to enter
into thee, and none will be as wise as thou. '
But the young Fisherman laughed. "Love
is better than Wisdom," he cried, "and the
little Mermaid loves me.'
"Nay, but there is nothing better than
Wisdom,' said the Soul.
3
226 The Fisherman and his Soul
"Love is better/ answered the young
Fisherman, and he plunged into the deep,
and the Soul went weeping away over the
marshes.
And after the second year was over, the
Soul came down to the shore of the sea, and
called to the young Fisherman, and he rose
out of the deep and said, "Why dost thou
call to me?'
And the Soul answered, "Come nearer, that
I may speak with thee, for I have seen mar-
vellous things. '
So he came nearer, and couched in the
shallow water, and leaned his head upon his
hand and listened.
And the Soul said to him: "When I left
thee, I turned my face to the South and
journeyed. From the South cometh every-
thing that is precious. Six days I journeyed
along the highways that lead to the city of
Ashter, along the dusty red-dyed highways
by which the pilgrims are wont to go did I
journey, and on the morning of the seventh
day I lifted up my eyes, and lo! the city
lay at my feet, for it is in a valley.
'There are nine gates to this city, and
in front of each gate stands a bronze horse
The Fisherman and his Soul 227
that neighs when the Bedouins come down
from the mountains. The walls are cased
with copper, and the watch-towers on the
walls are roofed with brass. In every tower
stands an archer with a bow in his hand.
At sunrise he strikes with an arrow on a gong,
and at sunset he blows through a horn of
horn.
"When I sought to enter, the guards
stopped me and asked of me who I was. I
made answer that I was a Dervish and on my
way to the city of Mecca, where there was a
reen veil on which the Koran was embroidered
in silver letters by the hands of the angels.
They were filled with wonder, and entreated
me to pass in.
"Inside it is even as a bazaar. Surely
thou shouldst have been with me. Across
the narrow streets the gay lanterns of paper
flutter like large butterflies. When the wind
blows over the roofs they rise and fall as
painted bubbles do. In front of their booths
sit the merchants on silken carpets. They
have straight black beards, and their turbans
are covered with golden sequins, and long
strings of amber and carved peach-stones
glide through their cool fingers. Some of
them sell gelbanum and nard, and curious
228 The Fisherman and his Soul
perfumes from the islands of the Indian Sea,
and the thick oil of red roses, and myrrh
and little nail-shaped cloves. When one
stops to speak to them, they throw pinches
of frankincense upon a charcoal brazier and
make the air sweet. I saw a Syrian who held in
his hands a thin rod like a reed. Grey threads
of smoke came from it, and its odour as it
burned was as the odour of the pink almond in
spring. Others sell silver bracelets embossed
all over with creamy blue turquoise stones,
and anklets of brass wire fringed with little
pearls, and tigers' claws set in gold, and the
claws of that gilt cat, the leopard, set in gold
also, and earrings of pierced emerald, and
finger-rings of hollowed jade. From the tea-
houses comes the sound of the guitar, and
the opium-smokers with their white smiling
faces look out at the passers-by.
"Of a truth thou shouldst have been with
me. The wine-sellers elbow their way through
the crowd with great black skins on their
shoulders. Most of them sell the wine of
Shiraz, which is as sweet as honey. They
serve it in little metal cups and strew rose-
leaves upon it. In the market-place stand
the fruit-sellers, who sell all kinds of fruit : ripe
figs, with their bruised purple flesh; melons,
The Fisherman and his Soul 225
smelling of musk and yellow as topazes;
citrons and rose-apples and clusters of white
grapes, round red-gold oranges, and oval
lemons of green gold. Once I saw an elephant
go by. Its trunk was painted with vermilion
and turmeric, and over its ears it had a net of
crimson silk cord. It stopped opposite one
of the booths and began eating the oranges,
and the man only laughed. Thou canst not
think how strange a people they are. When
they are glad they go to the bird-sellers and
buy of them a caged bird, and set it free that
their joy may be greater, and when they are
sad they scourge themselves with thorns that
their sorrow may not grow less.
i One evening I met some negroes carrying
a heavy palanquin through the bazaar. It
was made of gilded bamboo, and the poles
were of vermilion lacquer studded with brass
peacocks. Across the windows hung thin
curtains of muslin embroidered with beetles'
wings and with tiny seed-pearls, and as it
passed by a pale-faced Circassian looked out
and smiled at me. I followed behind, and
the negroes hurried their steps and scowled.
But I did not care. I felt a great curiosity
come over me.
"At last they stopped at a square white
230 The Fisherman and his Soul
house. There were no windows to it, only
a little door like the door of a tomb. They
set down the palanquin and knocked three
times with a copper hammer. An Armenian
in a caftan of green leather peered through
the wicket, and when he saw them he opened,
and spread a carpet on the ground, and the
woman stepped out. As she went in, she
turned round and smiled at me again. I had
never seen any one so pale.
"When the moon rose I returned to the
same place and sought for the house, but it
was no longer there. When I saw that, I
knew who the woman was, and wherefore
she had smiled at me.
"Certainly thou shouldst have been with
me. On the feast of the New Moon the
young Emperor came forth from his palace
and went into the mosque to pray. His
hair and beard were dyed with rose-leaves,
and his cheeks were powdered with a fine
gold-dust. The palms of his feet and hands
were yellow with saffron.
"At sunrise he went forth from his palace
in a robe of silver, and at sunset he returned
to it again in a robe of gold. The people
flung themselves on the ground and hid their
faces, but I would not do so. I stood by the
The Fisherman and his Soul 231
stall of a seller of dates and waited. When
the Emperor saw me, he raised his painted
eyebrows and stopped. I stood quite still,
and made him no obeisance. The people
marvelled at my boldness, and counselled
me to flee from the city. I paid no heed to
them, but went and sat with the sellers of
strange gods, who by reason of their craft
are abominated. When I told them what I
had done, each of them gave me a god ard
prayed me to leave them.
"That night, as I lay on a cushion in the
tea-house that is in the Street of Pomegranates,
the guards of the Emperor entered and led
me to the palace. As I went in they closed
each door behind me, and put a chain across
it. Inside was a great court with an arcade
running all round. The walls were of white
alabaster, set here and there with blue and
green tiles. The pillars were of green marble,
and the pavement of a kind of peach-blossom
marble. I had never seen anything like it
before.
"As I passed across the court two veiled
women looked down from a balcony and
cursed me. The guards hastened on, and
the butts of the lances rang upon the polished
floor. They opened a gate of wrought ivory,
23 2 The Fisherman and his Soul
and I found myself in a watered garden of
seven terraces. It was planted with tulip-
cups and moonflowers, and silver-studded
aloes. Like a slim reed of crystal a fountain
hung in the dusky air. The cypress-trees
were like burnt-out torches. From one of
them a nightingale was singing.
"At the end of the garden stood a little
pavilion. As we approached it two eunuchs
came out to meet us. Their fat bodies swayed
as they walked, and they glanced curiously at
me with their yellow-lidded eyes. One of
them drew aside the captain of the guard, and
in a low voice whispered to him. The other
kept munching scented pastilles, which he
took with an affected gesture out of an oval
box of lilac enamel.
'After a few moments the captain of
the guard dismissed the soldiers. They went
back to the palace, the eunuchs following
slowly behind and plucking the sweet mul-
berries from the trees as they passed. Once
the elder of the two turned round, and smiled
at me with an evil smile.
'Then the captain of the guard motioned
me towards the entrance of the pavilion. I
walked on without trembling, and drawing the
heavy curtain aside I entered in.
The Fisherman and his Soul 233
"The young Emperor was stretched on
a couch of dyed lion skins, and a gerfalcon
perched upon his wrist. Behind him stood
a brass- turbaned Nubian, naked down to the
waist, and with heavy ear-rings in his split
ears. On a table by the side of the couch lay
a mighty scimitar of steel.
'When the Emperor saw me he frowned,
and said to me: ' What is thy name? Knowest
thou not that I am Emperor of this city?'
But I made him no answer.
1 ' He pointed with his finger at the scimitar,
and the Nubian seized it, and rushing for-
ward struck at me with great violence. The
blade whizzed through me, and did me no hurt.
The man fell sprawling on the floor, and when
he rose up his teeth chattered with terror and
he hid himself behind the couch.
"The Emperor leapt to his feet, and taking
a lance from a stand of arms, he threw it at
me. I caught it in its flight, and brake the
shaft into two pieces. He shot at me with an
arrow, but I held up my hands and it stopped
in mid-air. Then he drew a dagger from a
belt of white leather, and stabbed the Nubian
in the throat lest the slave should tell of his
dishonour. The man writhed like a trampled
snake, and a red foam bubbled from his lips.
234 The Fisherman and his Soul
"As soon as he was dead the Emperor
turned to me, and when he had wiped away
the bright sweat from his brow with a little
napkin of purfled and purple silk, he said
to me: 'Art thou a prophet, that I may not
harm thee, or the son of a prophet, that I can
do thee no hurt? I pray thee leave my city
to-night, for while thou art in it I am no longer
its lord.'
"And I answered him: 'I will go for half
of thy treasure. Give me half of thy treasure,
and I will go away/
'He took me by the hand, and led me
out into the garden. When the captain of
the guard saw me, he wondered. When
the eunuchs saw me, their knees shook and
they fell upon the ground in fear.
"There is a chamber in the palace that
has eight walls of red porphyry, and a brass-
scaled ceiling hung with lamps. The Emperor
touched one of the walls and it opened, and
we passed down a corridor that was lit with
many torches. In niches upon each side
stood great wine- jars filled to the brim with
silver pieces. When we reached the centre
of the corridor the Emperor spake the word
that may not be spoken, and a granite door
swung back on a secret spring, and he put
The Fisherman and his Soul 235
his hands before his face lest his eyes should be
dazzled.
'Thou couldst not believe how marvellous
a place it was. There were huge tortoise-
shells full of pearls, and hollowed moon-stones
of great size piled up with red rubies.
The gold was stored in coffers of elephant-
hide, and the gold-dust in leather bottles.
There were opals and sapphires, the former in
cups of crystal, and the latter in cups of jade.
Round green emeralds were ranged in order
upon thin plates of ivory, and in one corner
were silk bags filled, some with turquoise-
stones, and others with beryls. The ivory
horns were heaped with purple amethysts,
and the horns of brass with chalcedonies and
sards. The pillars, which were of cedar,
were hung with strings of yellow lynx-stones.
In the flat oval shields there were carbuncles,
both wine-coloured and coloured like grass.
And yet I have told thee but a tithe of what
was there.
"And when the Emperor had taken away
his hands from before his face he said to mer.
' This is my house of treasure, and half that is
in it is thine, even as I promised to thee.
And I will give thee camels and camel drivers,
and they shall do thy bidding and take thy
236 The Fisherman and his Soul
share of the treasure to whatever part of the
world thou desirest to go. And the thing
shall be done to-night, for I would not that the
Sun, who is my father, should see that there is
in my city a man whom I cannot slay.'
"But I answered him: 'The gold that is
here is thine, and the silver also is thine, and
thine are the precious jewels and the things
of price. As for me, I have no need of these.
Nor shall I take aught from thee but that
little ring that thou wearest on the finger of
thy hand.'
"And the Emperor frowned. 'It is but
a ring of lead,' he cried, 'nor has it any value.
Therefore take thy half of the treasure and go
from my city.'
'Nay,' I answered, 'but I will take nought
but that leaden ring, for I know what is
written within it, and for what purpose.'
: 'And the Emperor trembled, and besought
me and said: 'Take all the treasure and go
from my city. The half that is mine shall be
thine also.'
"And I did a strange thing, but what I
did matters not, for in a cave that is but a
day's journey from this place have I hidden
the Ring of Riches. It is but a day's journey
from this place, and it waits for thy coming.
The Fisherman and his Soul 237
He who has this Ring is richer than all the
kings of the world. Come therefore and take
it, and the world's riches shall be thine. "
But the young Fisherman laughed. "Love
is better than Riches,' he cried, "and the
little Mermaid loves me."
"Nay, but there is nothing better than
Riches, ' ' said the Soul.
"Love is better,' answered the young
Fisherman, and he plunged into the deep,
and the Soul went weeping away over the
marshes.
And after the third year was over, the
Soul came down to the shore of the sea, and
called to the young Fisherman, and he rose
out of the deep and said, "Why dost thou
call to me?'
And the Soul answered, "Come nearer,
that I may speak with thee, for I have seen
marvellous things.'
So he came nearer, and couched in the
shallow water, and leaned his head upon his
hand and listened.
And the Soul said to him: 'In a city that
I know of there is an inn that standeth by a
river. I sat there with sailors who drank of
two different-coloured wines, and ate bread
238 The Fisherman and his Soul
made of barley, and little salt-fish served in
bay-leaves with vinegar. And as we sat and
made merry, there entered to us an old man
bearing a leathern carpet and a lute that had
two horns of amber. And when he had laid
out the carpet on the floor, he struck with a
quill on the wire strings of his lute, and a girl
whose face was veiled ran in and began to dance
before us. Her face was veiled with a veil of
gauze, but her feet were naked. Naked were
her feet, and they moved over the carpet like
little white pigeons. Never have I seen
anything so marvellous, and the city in which
she dances is but a day's journey from this
place. "
Now when the young Fisherman heard
the words of his Soul, he remembered that
the little Mermaid had no feet and could not
dance. And a great desire came over him,
and he said to himself, "It is but a day's
journey, and I can return to my love," and
he laughed, and stood up in the shallow water,
and strode towards the shore.
And when he had reached the dry shore
he laughed again, and held out his arms to
his Soul. And his Soul gave a great cry of
joy and ran to meet him, and entered into
him, and the young Fisherman saw stretched
The Fisherman and his Soul 230
before him upon the sand that shadow of
the body that is the body of the Soul.
And his Soul said to him, "Let us not
tarry, but get hence at once, for the Sea-gods
are jealous, and have monsters that do their
bidding."
So they made haste, and all that night
they journeyed beneath the moon, and all
the next day they journeyed beneath the
sun, and on the evening of the day they
came to a city.
And the young Fisherman said to his Soul,
" Is this the city in which she dances of whom
thou didst speak to me? '
And his Soul answered him: 'It is not
this city, but another. Nevertheless let us
enter in. '
So they entered in and passed through
the streets, and as they passed through the
Street of the Jewellers the young Fisherman
saw a fair silver cup set forth in a booth.
And his Soul said to him, "Take that silver
cup and hide it.'
So he took the cup and hid it in the fold
of his tunic, and they went hurriedly out of
the city.
And after that they had gone a league
240 The Fisherman and his Soul
from the city, the young Fisherman frowned
and flung the cup away, and said to his
Soul, "Why didst thou tell me to take this
cup and hide it, for it was an evil thing to do? '
But his Soul answered him, "Be at peace,
be at peace.'
And on the evening of the second day
they came to a city, and the young Fisherman
said to his Soul, "Is this the city in which she
dances of whom thou didst speak to me? '
And his Soul answered him: 'It is not
this city, but another. Nevertheless let us
enter in. '
So they entered in and passed through
the streets, and as they passed through the
Street of the Sellers of Sandals, the young
Fisherman saw a child standing by a jar of
water. And his Soul said to him, "Smite
that child.' So he smote the child till it
wept, and when he had done this they went
hurriedly out of the city.
And after that they had gone a league
from the city the young Fisherman grew
wroth, and said to his Soul, "Why didst thou
tell me to smite the child, for it was an evil
thing to do?"
But his Soul answered him, "Be at peace,
be at peace."
The Fisherman and his Soul 241
And on the evening of the third day they
came to a city, and the young Fisherman
said to his Soul, "Is this the city in which
she dances of whom thou didst speak to me? '
And his Soul answered him, "It may be
that it is in this city, therefore let us enter in. '
So they entered in and passed through
the streets, but nowhere could the young
Fisherman find the river or the inn that
stood by its side. And the people of the
city looked curiously at him and he grew
afraid and said to his Soul, "Let us go hence,
for she who dances with white feet is not
here."
But his Soul answered, "Nay, but let us
tarry, for the night is dark and there will be
robbers on the way. '
So he sat him down in the market-place
and rested, and after a time there went by
a hooded merchant who had a cloak of cloth
of Tartary, and bare a lantern of pierced
horn at the end of a jointed reed. And the
merchant said to him, "Why dost thou sit
in the market-place, seeing that the booths
are closed and the bales corded?*
And the young Fisherman answered him,
"I can find no inn in this city, nor have I
any kinsman who might give me shelter."
242 The Fisherman and his Soul
"Are we not all kinsmen?' said the mer-
chant. "And did not one God make us?
Therefore come with me, for I have a guest-
chamber. '
So the young Fisherman rose up and
followed the merchant to his house. And
when he had passed through a garden of
pomegranates and entered into the house,
the merchant brought him rose-water in a
copper dish that he might wash his hands,
and ripe melons that he might quench his
thirst, and set a bowl of rice and a piece of
roasted kid before him.
And after that he had finished, the merchant
led him to the guest-chamber, and bade him
sleep and be at rest. And the young Fisher-
man gave him thanks, and kissed the ring
that was on his hand, and flung himself down
on the carpets of dyed goafs-hair. And when
he had covered himself with a covering of black
lamb's- wool he fell asleep.
And three hours before dawn, and while
it was still night, his Soul waked him and
said to him, 'Rise up and go to the room of
the merchant, even to the room in which he
sleepeth, and slay him, and take from him
his gold, for we have need of it.'
And the young Fisherman rose up and
The Fisherman and his Soul 243
crept towards the room of the merchant,
and over the feet of the merchant there was
lying a curved sword, and the tray by the
side of the merchant held nine purses of
gold. And he reached out his hand and
touched the sword, and when he touched it
the merchant started and awoke, and leap-
ing up seized himself the sword and cried
to the young Fisherman, 'Dost thou return
evil for good, and pay with the shedding of
blood for the kindness that I han e shown
thee?"
And his Soul said to the young Fisher-
man, " Strike him,' and he struck him so
that he swooned, and he seized then the
nine purses of gold, and fled hastily through
the garden of pomegranates, and set his face
to the star that is the star of morning.
And when they had gone a league from
the city, the young Fisherman beat his
breast, and said to his Soul: "Why didst
thou bid me slay the merchant and take his
gold? Surely thou art evil.'
But his Soul answered him, 'Be at peace,
be at peace. '
"Nay," cried the young Fisherman, 'I
may not be at peace, for all that thou hast
made me to do I hate. Thee also I hate,
244 The Fisherman and his Soul
and I bid thee tell me wherefore thou hast
wrought with me in this wise.'
And his Soul answered him, "When thou
didst send me forth into the world thou
gavest me no heart, so I learned to do all
these things and love them.'
"What sayest thou?" murmured the young
Fisherman.
"Thou knowest," answered his Soul; "thou
knowest it well. Hast thou forgotten that
thou gavost me no heart? I trow not. And so
trouble not thyself nor me, but be at peace, for
there is no pain that thou shalt not give away,
nor any pleasure that thou shalt not receive. '
And when the young Fisherman heard
these words he trembled and said to his
Soul, "Nay, but thou art evil, and hast made
me forget my love, and hast tempted me with
temptations, and hast set my feet in the
ways of sin.'
And his Soul answered him: "Thou hast
not forgotten that when thou didst send me
forth into the world thou gavest me no heart.
Come, let us go to another city, and make
merry, for we have nine purses of gold. '
But the young Fisherman took the nine
purses of gold, and flung them down, and
trampled on them.
The Fisherman and his Soul 245
"Nay," he cried, "but I will have nought
to do with thee, nor will I journey with thee
anywhere, but even as I sent thee away be-
fore, so will I send thee away now, for thou
hast wrought me no good." And he turned
his back to the moon, and with the little
knife that had the handle of green viper's
skin he strove to cut from his feet that
shadow of the body which is the body of
the Soul.
Yet his Soul stirred not from him, nor
paid heed to his command, but said to him:
"The spell that the Witch told thee avails
thee no more, for I may not leave thee, nor
mayest thou drive me forth. Once in his
life may a man send his Soul away, but he
who receiveth back his Soul must keep it
with him forever, and this is his punishment
and his reward.'
And the young Fisherman grew pale and
clenched his hands and cried, 'She was a
false Witch in that she told me not that. '
"Nay," answered his Soul, "but she was
true to Him she worships, and whose servant
she will be ever.'
And when the young Fisherman knew
that he could no longer get rid of his Soul,
and that it was an evil Soul and would abide
246 The Fisherman and his Soul
with him always, he fell upon the ground
weeping bitterly.
And when it was day the young Fisher-
man rose up and said to his Soul: 'I will
bind my hands that I may not do thy bid-
ding, and close my lips that I may not speak
thy words, and I will return to the place where
she whom I love has her dwelling. Even
to the sea will I return, and to the little bay
where she is wont to sing, and I will call to
her and tell her the evil I have done and the
evil thou hast wrought on me. '
And his Soul tempted him and said: "Who
is thy love, that thou shouldst return to her?
The world has many fairer than she is. There
are the dancing-girls of Samaris who dance in
the manner of all kinds of birds and beasts.
Their feet are painted with henna, and in their
hands they have little copper bells. They
laugh while they dance, and their laughter is
as clear as the laughter of water. Come with
me and I will show them to thee. For what
is this trouble of thine about the things of sin?
Is that which is pleasant to eat not made for
the eater? Is there poison in that which is
sweet to drink? Trouble not thyself, but
c;ome with me to another city. There is a little
The Fisherman and his Soul 247
city hard by in which there is a garden of
tulip-trees. And there dwell in this comely
garden white peacocks and peacocks that
have blue breasts. Their tails when they
spread them to the sun are like disks of ivory
and like gilt disks. And she who feeds them
dances for their pleasure, and sometimes she
dances on her hands and at other times
she dances with her feet. Her eyes are coloured
with stibium, and her nostrils are shaped like
the wings of a swallow. From a hook in one
of her nostrils hangs a flower that is carved
out of a pearl. She laughs while she dances,
and the silver rings that are about her ankles
tinkle like bells of silver. And so trouble
not thyself any more, but come with me to
this city. '
But the young Fisherman answered not
his Soul, but closed his lips with the seal
of silence and with a tight cord bound his
hands, and journeyed back to the place from
which he had come, even to the little bay
where his love had been wont to sing. And
ever did his Soul tempt him by the way, but
he made it no answer, nor would he do any of
the wickedness that it sought to make him to
do, so great was the power of the love that was
within him.
The Fisherman and his Soul
And when he had reached the shore of
the sea, he loosed the cord from his hands,
and took the seal of silence from his lips,
and called to the little Mermaid. But she
came not to his call, though he called to
her all day long and besought her.
And his Soul mocked him and said: "Surely
thou hast but little joy out of thy love. Thou
art as one who in time of dearth pours water
into a broken vessel. Thou givest away what
thou hast, and nought is given to thee in re-
turn. It were better for thee to come with
me, for I know where the Valley of Pleasure
lies, and what things are wrought there. '
But the young Fisherman answered not
his Soul, but in a cleft of the rock he built
himself a house of wattles, and abode there
for the space of a year. And every morning
he called to the Mermaid, and every noon he
called to her again, and at night-time he
spake her name. Yet never did she rise out
of the sea to meet him, nor in any place of the
sea could he find her, though he sought for
her in the caves and in the green water, in
the pools of the tide and in the wells that are
at the bottom of the deep.
And ever did his Soul tempt him with evil,
and whisper of terrible things. Yet did it
The Fisherman and his Soul 249
not prevail against him, so great was the
power of his love.
And after the year was over, the Soul
thought within itself: "I have tempted my
master with evil, and his love is stronger
than I am. I will tempt him now with good,
and it may be that he will come with me."
So he spake to the young Fisherman and
said: "I have told thee of the joy of the world,
and thou hast turned a deaf ear to me. Suffer
me now to tell thee of the world's pain, and it
may be that thou wilt hearken. For of a
truth pain is the Lord of this world, nor is
there any one who escapes from its net. There
be some who lack raiment, and others who
lack bread. There be widows who sit in
purple, and widows who sit in rags. To and
fro over the fens go the lepers, and they are
cruel to each other. The beggars go up and
down on the highways, and their wallets are
empty. Through the streets of the cities
walks Famine, and the Plague sits at their
gates. Come, let us go forth and mend these
things, and make them not to be. Wherefore
shouldst thou tarry here calling to thy love,
seeing she comes not to thy call? And what
is love, that thou shouldst set this high store
upon it?"
250 The Fisherman and his Soul
But the young Fisherman answered it
nought, so great was the power of his love.
And every morning he called to the Mer-
maid, and every noon he called to her again,
and at night-time he spake her name. Yet
never did she rise out of the sea to meet
him, nor in any place of the sea could he
/md her, though he sought for her in the
-ivers of the sea, and in the valleys that are
tmder the waves in the sea that the night
makes purple, and in the sea that the dawn
leaves grey.
And after the second year was over, the
Soul said to the young Fisherman at night-
time, and as he sat in the wattled house
alone: 'Lo! now I have tempted tnee with
evil, and I have tempted thee with good,
and thy love is stronger than I am. Where-
fore will I tempt thee no longer, but I pray
thee to stiff er me to enter thy heart, that
I may be one with thee even as before. "
"Surely thou mayest enter,' said the
young Fisherman, "for in the days when
with no heart thou didst go through the
world thou must have much suffered."
"Alas!" cried his Soul, "I can find no
place of entrance, so compassed about with
love is this heart of thine. "
The Fisherman and his Soul 251
"Yet I would that I could help thee,"
said the young Fisherman.
And as he spake there came a great cry
of mourning from the sea, even the cry that
men hear when one of the Sea-folk is dead.
And the young Fisherman leapt up, and left
his wattled house, and ran down to the shore.
And the black waves came hurrying to the
shore, bearing with them a burden that was
whiter than silver. White as the surf it was,
and like a flower it tossed on the waves.
And the surf took it from the waves, and the
foam took it from the surf, and the shore
received it, and lying at his feet the young
Fisherman saw the body of the little Mermaid.
Dead at his feet it was lying.
Weeping as one smitten with pain he
flung himself down beside it, and he kissed
the cold red of the mouth, and toyed with
the wet amber of the hair. He flung him-
self down beside it on the sand, weeping as
one trembling with joy, and in his brown arms
he held it to his breast. Cold were the lips,
yet he kissed them. Salt was the honey
of the hair, yet he tasted it with a bitter
joy. He kissed the closed eyelids, and the
wild spray that lay upon their cups was less
salt than his tears.
252 The Fisherman and his Soul
And to the dead thing he made confer
sion. Into the shells of its ears he poured
the harsh wine of his tale. He put the little
hands round his neck, and with his fingers
he touched the thin reed of the throat. Bitter,
bitter was his joy, and full of strange gladness
was his pain.
The black sea came nearer, and the white
foam moaned like a leper. With white claws
of foam the sea grabbled at the shore. From
the palace of the Sea-King came the cry of
mourning again, and far out upon the sea the
great Tritons blew hoarsely upon their horns.
"Flee away," said his Soul, " for ever doth
the sea come nigher, and if thou tarriest it will
slay thee. Flee away, for I am afraid, seeing
that thy heart is closed against me by reason
of the greatness of thy love. Flee away to
a place of safety. Surely thou wilt not send
me without a heart into another world?'
But the young Fisherman listened not to
his Soul, but called on the little Mermaid
and said: "Love is better than wisdom, and
more precious than riches, and fairer than
the feet of the daughters of men. The fires
cannot destroy it, nor can the waters quench
it. I called on thee at dawn, and thou didst
not come to my call. The moon heard thy
The Fisherman and his Soul 253
name, yet hadst thou no heed of me. For
evilly had I left thee, and to my own hurt
had I wandered away. Yet ever did thy
love abide with me, and ever was it strong,
nor did aught prevail against it, though I
have looked upon evil and looked upon good.
And now that thou art dead, surely I will
die with thee also.'
And his Soul besought him to depart,
but he would not, so great was his love.
And the sea came nearer, and sought to cover
him with its waves, and when he knew that
the end was at hand he kissed with mad
lips the cold lips of the Mermaid, and the
heart that was within him brake. And as
through the fulness of his love his heart did
break, the Soul found an entrance and entered
in, and was one with him even as before.
And the sea covered the young Fisherman
with its waves.
And in the morning the Priest went forth
to bless the sea, for it had been troubled.
And with him went the monks and the
musicians, and the candle-bearers and the
swingers of censers, and a great company.
And when the Priest reached the shore
he saw the young Fisherman lying drowned
254 The Fisherman and his Soul
in the surf, and clasped in his arms was the
body of the little Mermaid. And he drew
back frowning, and having made the sign of
the cross, he cried aloud and said: "I will
not bless the sea nor anything that is in it.
Accursed be the Sea-folk, and accursed be
all they who traffic with them. And as for
him who for love's sake forsook God, and so
lieth here with his leman slain by God's
judgment, take up his body and the body of
his leman, and bury them in the corner of
the Field of the Fullers, and set no mark
above them, nor sign of any kind, that none
may know the place of their resting. For
accursed were they in their lives, and ac-
cursed shall they be in their deaths also/
And the people did as he commanded
them, and in the corner of the Field of the
Fullers, where no sweet herbs grew, they
dug a deep pit, and laid the dead things
within it.
And when the third year was over, and
on a day that was a holy day, the Priest
went up to the chapel, that he might show
to the people the wounds of the Lord, and
speak to them about the wrath of God.
And when he had robed himself with his
robes, and entered in and bowed himself
The Fisherman and his Soul 255
before the altar, he saw that the altar was
covered with strange flowers that never had
been seen before. Strange were they to
look at, and of curious beauty, and their
beauty troubled him, and their odour was
sweet in his nostrils. And he felt glad, and
understood not why he was glad.
And after that he had opened the taber-
nacle, and incensed the monstrance that was
in it, and shown the fair wafer to the people,
and hid it again behind the veil of veils, he
began to speak to the people, desiring to
speak to them of the wrath of God. But
the beauty of the white flowers troubled
him, and their odour was sweet in his nostrils,
and there came another word into his lips,
and he spake not of the wrath of God, but
of the God whose name is Love. And why
he so spake, he knew not.
And when he had finished his word the
people wept, and the Priest went back to
the sacristy, and his eyes were full of tears.
And the deacons came in and began to un-
robe him, and took from him the alb and
the girdle, the maniple and the stole. And
he stood as one in a dream.
And after that they had unrobed him, he
looked at them and said, "What are the
256 The Fisherman and his Soul
flowers that stand on the altar, and whence
do they come?'
And they answered him, "What flowers
they are we cannot tell, but they come from
the corner of the Fullers' Field." And the
Priest trembled, and returned to his own
house and prayed.
And in the morning, while it was still
dawn, he went forth with the monks and
the musicians, and the candle-bearers and
the swingers of censers, and a great com-
pany, and came to the shore of the sea, and
blessed the sea, and all the wild things that
are in it. The Fauns also he blessed, and
the little things that dance in the woodland,
and the bright-eyed things that peer through
the leaves. All the things in God's world
he blessed, and the people were filled with
joy and wonder. Yet never again in the
corner of the Fullers' Field grew flowers of
any kind, but the field remained barren even
as before. Nor came the Sea-folk into the
bay as they had been wont to do, for they
went to another part of the sea.
THE END
Plenty of Pirates
A Tale of The Barbary Wars
By ELISABETH MEG
Illustrated by Philip Kappel
Few people now remember that the
United States in younger days paid
annual tribute to the Barbary pirates.
This new adventure story is based on
an exciting incident which took place-
in 1795. The hero of the tale is a 13-
year-old Philadelphia boy who sailed on
the U.S.S. George Washington (Capt.
Bainbridge commanding ) , and so be-
came involved in one of the most color-
ful incidents of the Barbary Wars.
The frigate, arriving at Algiers with
the tribute paid for protection against
pirates, w r as commandeered by the Dey,
and though captain and crew were far
from willing, was forced to go on a
mission to Constantinople. The ship car-
ried on this strange voyage not only her
crew r of 131 men, but also the Dey's
ambassador and suite, a hundred Negro
slaves, a full complement of horses, 150
sheep, 25 horned cattle, 4 lions, 4 tigers,
many antelopes, ostriches, and parrots,
and a million dollars' worth of gifts and
galia. Young Tom Walton's search
brother Richard (who turns up
slave to the Dey himself) develops
this colorful background.
COVER BOOK SYSTEM
Recent Books for Young Readers
A CHEESE FOR LAFAYETTE
by Elisabeth Meg
"An utterly charming story with the added advantage of being
true, this little book tells how the people of Nantucket in gratitude
to Lafayette made a 500 pound cheese and shipped it to France in
one of their own sailing vessels. Delightfully illustrated by Helen
Belkin." The M'utm-i Herald
TIM'S PLACE
by E va Knox Evans
'The way of the outsider is hard. In this timely story of an Austrian
refugee's reception in an American family, Miss Evans drives that
fact home in a quietly effective manner ... It is a good narrative,
perceptive and honest, and it has a good deal to say to thoughtful
young people."
Ellen Lewis Buell in The Neu 1 York Times Book Review
Illustrated
JULIA VALERIA:
A Story of Ancient Rome
by Elizabeth Gale
This refreshing and exciting story, full of charm and suspense,
takes place in Rome in 19 B.C. How Julia thwarts her father's
and Rome's enemies and at last, after danger and heartbreaks,
becomes engaged to the young man she loves, is told in vivid
fashion.
Illustrated
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
1
