THE OWL AND THE EEL ANDTHE WARMING-PAN
The owl and the eel and the warming-pan,
They went to call on the soap-fat man.
The soap-fat man he was not within:
He’d gone for a ride on his rolling-pin.
So they all came back by the way of the town,
And turned the meeting-house upside down.
THE WHEAT-FIELD
Some children were set to reap in a wheat-field. The wheat was yellow as gold, the sun shone gloriously, and the butterflies flew hither and thither. Some of the children worked better, and some worse; but there was one who ran here and there after the butterflies that fluttered about his head, and sang as he ran.
By and by evening came, and the Angel of the wheat-field called to the children and said, “Come now to the gate, and bring your sheaves with you.”
So the children came, bringing their sheaves. Some had great piles, laid close and even, so that they might carry more; some had theirs laid large and loose, so that they looked more than they were; but one, the child that had run to and fro after the butterflies, came empty-handed.
The Angel said to this child, “Where are your sheaves?”
The child hung his head. “I do not know!” he said. “I had some, but I have lost them, I know not how.”
“None enter here without sheaves,” said the Angel.
“I know that,” said the child. “But I thought I would like to see the place where the others were going; besides, they would not let me leave them.”
Then all the other children cried out together. One said, “Dear Angel, let him in! In the morning I was sick, and this child came and played with me, and showed me the butterflies, and I forgot my pain. Also, he gave me one of his sheaves, and I would give it to him again, but I cannot tell it now from my own.”
Another said, “Dear Angel, let him in! At noon the sun beat on my head so fiercely that I fainted and fell down like one dead; and this child came running by, and when he saw me he brought water to revive me, and then he showed me the butterflies, and was so glad and merry that my strength returned; to me also he gave one of his sheaves, and I would give it to him again, but it is so like my own that I cannot tell it.”
And a third said, “Just now, as evening was coming, I was weary and sad, and had so few sheaves that it seemed hardly worth my while to go on working; but this child comforted me, and showed me the butterflies, and gave me of his sheaves. Look! it may be that this was his; and yet I cannot tell, it is so like my own.”
And all the children said, “We also had sheaves of him, dear Angel; let him in, we pray you!”
The Angel smiled, and reached his hand inside the gate and brought out a pile of sheaves; it was not large, but the glory of the sun was on it, so that it seemed to lighten the whole field.
“Here are his sheaves!” said the Angel. “They are known and counted, every one.” And he said to the child, “Lead the way in!”
ABOUT ANGELS
“Mother,” said the child; “are there really angels?”
“The Good Book says so,” said the mother.
“Yes,” said the child; “I have seen the picture. But did you ever see one, mother?”
“I think I have,” said the mother; “but she was not dressed like the picture.”
“I am going to find one!” said the child. “I am going to run along the road, miles, and miles, and miles, until I find an angel.”
“That will be a good plan!” said the mother. “And I will go with you, for you are too little to run far alone.”
“I am not little any more!” said the child. “I have trousers; I am big.”
“So you are!” said the mother. “I forgot. But it is a fine day, and I should like the walk.”
“But you walk so slowly, with your lame foot.”
“I can walk faster than you think!” said the mother.
So they started, the child leaping and running, and the mother stepping out so bravely with her lame foot that the child soon forgot about it.
The child danced on ahead, and presently he saw a chariot coming towards him, drawn by prancing white horses. In the chariot sat a splendid lady in velvet and furs, with white plumes waving above her dark hair. As she moved in her seat, she flashed with jewels and gold, but her eyes were brighter than her diamonds.
“Are you an angel?” asked the child, running up beside the chariot.
The lady made no reply, but stared coldly at the child: then she spoke a word to her coachman, and he flicked his whip, and the chariot rolled away swiftly in a cloud of dust, and disappeared.
The dust filled the child’s eyes and mouth, and made him choke and sneeze. He gasped for breath, and rubbed his eyes; but presently his mother came up, and wiped away the dust with her blue gingham apron.
“That was not an angel!” said the child.
“No, indeed!” said the mother. “Nothing like one!”
The child danced on again, leaping and running from side to side of the road, and the mother followed as best she might.
By and by the child met a most beautiful maiden, clad in a white dress. Her eyes were like blue stars, and the blushes came and went in her face like roses looking through snow.
“I am sure you must be an angel!” cried the child.
The maiden blushed more sweetly than before. “You dear little child!” she cried. “Some one else said that, only last evening. Do I really look like an angel?”
“You are an angel!” said the child.
The maiden took him up in her arms and kissed him, and held him tenderly.
“You are the dearest little thing I ever saw!” she said. “Tell me what makes you think so!” But suddenly her face changed.
“Oh!” she cried. “There he is, coming to meet me! And you have soiled my white dress with your dusty shoes, and pulled my hair all awry. Run away, child, and go home to your mother!”
She set the child down, not unkindly, but so hastily that he stumbled and fell; but she did not see that, for she was hastening forward to meet her lover, who was coming along the road. (Now if the maiden had only known, he thought her twice as lovely with the child in her arms; but she did not know.)
The child lay in the dusty road and sobbed, till his mother came along and picked him up, and wiped away the tears with her blue gingham apron.
“I don’t believe that was an angel, after all,” he said.
“No!” said the mother. “But she may be one some day. She is young yet.”
“I am tired!” said the child. “Will you carry me home, mother?”
“Why, yes!” said the mother. “That is what I came for.”
The child put his arms round his mother’s neck, and she held him tight and trudged along the road, singing the song he liked best.
Suddenly he looked up in her face.
“Mother,” he said; “I don’t suppose you could be an angel, could you?”
“Oh, what a foolish child!” said the mother. “Who ever heard of an angel in a blue gingham apron?” and she went on singing, and stepped out so bravely on her lame foot that no one would ever have known she was lame.
THE APRON-STRING
Once upon a time a boy played about the house, running by his mother’s side; and as he was very little, his mother tied him to the string of her apron.
“Now,” she said, “when you stumble, you can pull yourself up by the apron-string, and so you will not fall.”
The boy did that, and all went well, and the mother sang at her work.
By and by the boy grew so tall that his head came above the window-sill; and looking through the window, he saw far away green trees waving, and a flowing river that flashed in the sun, and rising above all, blue peaks of mountains.
“Oh, mother,” he said; “untie the apron-string and let me go!”
But the mother said, “Not yet, my child! only yesterday you stumbled, and would have fallen but for the apron-string. Wait yet a little, till you are stronger.”
So the boy waited, and all went as before; and the mother sang at her work.
But one day the boy found the door of the house standing open, for it was spring weather; and he stood on the threshold and looked across the valley, and saw the green trees waving, and the swift-flowing river with the sun flashing on it, and the blue mountains rising beyond; and this time he heard the voice of the river calling, and it said “Come!”
Then the boy started forward, and as he started, the string of the apron broke.
“Oh! how weak my mother’s apron-string is!” cried the boy; and he ran out into the world, with the broken string hanging beside him.
The mother gathered up the other end of the string and put it in her bosom, and went about her work again; but she sang no more.
The boy ran on and on, rejoicing in his freedom, and in the fresh air and the morning sun. He crossed the valley, and began to climb the foothills among which the river flowed swiftly, among rocks and cliffs. Now it was easy climbing, and again it was steep and craggy, but always he looked upward at the blue peaks beyond, and always the voice of the river was in his ears, saying “Come!”
By and by he came to the brink of a precipice, over which the river dashed in a cataract, foaming and flashing, and sending up clouds of silver spray. The spray filled his eyes, so that he did not see his footing clearly; he grew dizzy, stumbled, and fell. But as he fell, something about him caught on a point of rock at the precipice-edge, and held him, so that he hung dangling over the abyss; and when he put up his hand to see what held him, he found that it was the broken string of the apron, which still hung by his side.
“Oh! how strong my mother’s apron-string is!” said the boy: and he drew himself up by it, and stood firm on his feet, and went on climbing toward the blue peaks of the mountains.
THE SHADOW
An Angel heard a child crying one day, and came to see what ailed it. He found the little one sitting on the ground, with the sun at its back (for the day was young), looking at its own shadow, which lay on the ground before it, and weeping bitterly.
“What ails you, little one?” asked the Angel.
“The world is so dark!” said the child. “See, it is all dusky gray, and there is no beauty in it. Why must I stay in this sad, gray world?”
“Do you not hear the birds singing, and the other children calling at their play?” asked the Angel.
“Yes,” said the child; “I hear them, but I do not know where they are. I cannot see them, I see only the shadow. Moreover, if they saw it, they would not sing and call, but would weep as I do.”
The Angel lifted the child, and set it on its feet, with its face to the early sun.
“Look!” said the Angel.
The child brushed away the tears from its eyes and looked. Before them lay the fields all green and gold, shining with dewdrops, and the other children were running to and fro, laughing and shouting, and crowning one another with blossoms.
“Why, there are the children!” said the little one.
“Yes,” said the Angel; “there they are.”
“And the sun is shining!” cried the child.
“Yes,” said the Angel; “it was shining all the time.”
“And the shadow is gone!”
“Oh, no!” said the Angel; “the shadow is behind you, where it belongs. Run, now, and gather flowers for the littlest one, who sits in the grass there!”
THE SAILOR MAN
Once upon a time two children came to the house of a sailor man, who lived beside the salt sea; and they found the sailor man sitting in his doorway knotting ropes.
“How do you do?” asked the sailor man.
“We are very well, thank you,” said the children, who had learned manners, “and we hope you are the same. We heard that you had a boat, and we thought that perhaps you would take us out in her, and teach us how to sail, for that is what we wish most to know.”
“All in good time,” said the sailor man. “I am busy now, but by and by, when my work is done, I may perhaps take one of you if you are ready to learn. Meantime here are some ropes that need knotting; you might be doing that, since it has to be done.” And he showed them how the knots should be tied, and went away and left them.
When he was gone the first child ran to the window and looked out.
“There is the sea,” he said. “The waves come up on the beach, almost to the door of the house. They run up all white, like prancing horses, and then they go dragging back. Come and look!”
“I cannot,” said the second child. “I am tying a knot.”
“Oh!” cried the first child, “I see the boat. She is dancing like a lady at a ball; I never saw such a beauty. Come and look!”
“I cannot,” said the second child. “I am tying a knot.”
“I shall have a delightful sail in that boat,” said the first child. “I expect that the sailor man will take me, because I am the eldest and I know more about it. There was no need of my watching when he showed you the knots, because I knew how already.”
Just then the sailor man came in.
“Well,” he said, “my work is over. What have you been doing in the meantime?”
“I have been looking at the boat,” said the first child. “What a beauty she is! I shall have the best time in her that ever I had in my life.”
“I have been tying knots,” said the second child.
“Come, then,” said the sailor man, and he held out his hand to the second child. “I will take you out in the boat, and teach you to sail her.”
“But I am the eldest,” cried the first child, “and I know a great deal more than she does.”
“That may be,” said the sailor man; “but a person must learn to tie a knot before he can learn to sail a boat.”
“But I have learned to tie a knot,” cried the child. “I know all about it!”
“How can I tell that?” asked the sailor man.
“GO” AND “COME”
“Little boy,” said the nurse one day, “you would be far better at work. Your garden needs weeding sadly; go now and weed it, like a good child!”
But the little boy did not feel like weeding that day.
“I can’t do it,” he said.
“Oh! yes, you can,” said the nurse.
“Well, I don’t want to,” said the little boy.
“But you must!” said the nurse. “Don’t be naughty, but go at once and do your work as I bid you!”
She went away about her own work, for she was very industrious; but the little boy sat still, and thought himself ill-used.
By and by his mother came into the room and saw him.
“What is the matter, little boy?” she asked; for he looked like a three-days’ rain.
“Nurse told me to weed my garden,” said the little boy.
“Oh,” said his mother, “what fun that will be! I love to weed, and it is such a fine day! Mayn’t I come and help?”
“Why, yes,” said the little boy. “You may.” And they weeded the garden beautifully, and had a glorious time.