NELLIE.

[Contents]NELLIE.[Contents]CHAPTER I.Rain, rain—nothing but rain on this Christmas Eve, in the New South Wales metropolis. Although it was in the heat of summer the wind from the coast blew keenly through the almost deserted streets, and caused the fine mist-like wet to penetrate the stoutest overcoat. It was such weather that no one who had a roof over his head would care to be out in. But there was one wearily toiling from street to street, beneath the protection of the verandahs—a delicate-looking girl. With one hand she was trying to wrap her scanty rags round her wasted body, and in the other she held a half-dozen boxes of wax matches. Her face was worn, and pinched, and dirty, but it was a very beautiful, patient, little face; her hair, too, would have been a bright golden in natural hue, save that it was shaggy and dirty also. It was to little purpose that she offered her matches[229]to the passers-by, who were few and far between on this wet evening—they were all too anxious to get home out of the rain. From the brightly lighted streets the little wanderer crossed Hyde Park, and wended her way slowly up Oxford Street, and from thence to the left, along the Bay Road, where dwell the wealthy and the great. Why she had left the shops and all the busy part of the city for the wide, bleak road, dotted with high, massive houses standing out dark and cold in the falling rain, the poor child could not tell. Impelled by some strange fascination, she had quitted her usual haunts, and taken the opposite direction leading from her wretched home. Although it was getting late, and past the time when she should have returned, she had no thought of going home. Her memory was full of faint, indistinct thoughts, whether dreams or faraway realities, who shall say? She wondered why she had rambled so far from the city; but she also felt she must go on. Her ragged dress was soaked with rain and the keen wind was cruel and cutting, yet the poor little thing did not feel the rain or the wind; on the contrary, she felt as if she was on fire, save now and then there would pass a cold feeling all over her, which caused a shivering fit. The match girl was well aware that she would be[230]beaten when she returned to her wretched dwelling, yet, strange to say, she felt perfectly happy as she wandered farther away from it.Half way up the Bay Road there came over the little waif a feeling of dizziness, accompanied by a feeling of thirst, and again that burning sensation which again changed into a cold shiver, as she stood there. Close at hand there was a friendly porch belonging to a grand mansion, so the child crept into it, out of the wind and rain, and crouched down. No sooner had she done so than all her light-heartedness appeared to leave her, and she burst into tears. It was very strange that directly the little match vendor began to cry she heard a confusion of sounds around her—wild, mocking laughter, and shouts, and stamping of feet, and strange lights were dancing before her eyes. The stones on which she was lying seemed to be heaving and tossing, and she felt very frightened just for a moment, and then she fell fast asleep.These sounds still went on in her slumber, but they gradually got softer and softer, and sweeter and more subdued, until they changed into the most lovely music. And the little outcast thought she was standing in the midst of a very beautiful garden, and somehow it appeared to her that she[231]had known it all a long time ago. The rain and wind and the murky clouds had passed away, and it was glorious, sunny day; the flowers were in full bloom. Voices of birds and insects filled the balmy air, and gay coloured butterflies flitted here and there. While she was standing, wondering that all these strange things should seem so familiar to her, a handsome boy, with golden curls, approached, and exclaimed,—“Oh, dear sister Nellie, come and play. Why did you go away and stay away so long?”The dreamer looked up; she appeared to know the happy face quite well, and she assured him in a voice, that was not like her old thin, weak voice, but soft and clear, which seemed like a voice that had belonged to her a long, long time ago,—“Indeed, I don’t know where I have been, Frank; nor why I went away. Is it a long time since?” she asked timidly.“Such a long time, sister.”“I am here at last, Frank; and I will never go away again. Come, let us play in the garden.” And then she took his hand, and they walked on together amongst the flowers, while the thousand voices round about gave gladsome welcome. All the old miserable life of the beggar child seemed to fade quickly away here, leaving nothing save the[232]feeling that she had always been accustomed to the grand objects by which she found herself surrounded.“Suppose we have a game of hide and seek?” suggested Frank.“That will be very nice; but who shall hide first?”They had a little consultation about that very important matter, when it was decided that Nellie should hide first. It was most peculiar that the nameNelliecame quite natural to the dreamer, though she had been called Maggie, Meg, and sometimes Peggy as long as she could remember.So Nellie went to hide, and she hid behind a rosebush, and there she found a great hole in the ground big enough for her to creep into. Ere she had settled herself, Nellie found that the hole led to a dark passage, with a soft light glimmering at the end of it. Still wondering, she went towards the light. Passing along through several archways, the child emerged into a splendid cavern, lit up with many coloured, sparkling lights from thousands of precious stones, with which the sides and roof of the place were studded. While she was standing awe-struck with amazement at this magnificent place, she heard by her side a flutter of light wings, and turning, saw hovering[233]over her a beautiful little creature with long hair, which glittered like woven sunbeams. The form was rose-hued in colour, and from its shoulders sprang green wings, sheeny and lustrous as the throat of a humming-bird.“THE LOVELY BEING TOOK NELLIE BY THE HAND.”“THE LOVELY BEING TOOK NELLIE BY THE HAND.”“Come!” warbled the being, and the voice was dreamy and sweet, like the “coo” of a stock dove. “Come, and I will show you something wonderful.”And the lovely being took Nellie by the hand, and led the child through a cleft in the rock to[234]another room which was lined, roof, walls, and floor, with soft green moss. All round the room were hung beautiful garlands adorned with diamonds. Some fairly blazed again with gems, others contained only a few, fixed here and there, while fairy-like forms flitted to and fro continually, bearing in their hands more gems, which they fixed into the garlands. The dreamer was very much surprised at what she beheld.“Where do they get all those diamonds to put into the garlands?” she inquired of her companion.“The diamonds,” answered her conductor, “are the tears of sorrow shed by the unhappy people in the world; for always while they are weeping there are unseen watchers ready waiting to receive their tears and convey them here.”“And what are those very large gems, that shine so brightly in the middle of the finished garlands?”“Those are tears of joy; no garland can be finished withoutthem.”The child wandered round the chamber, and saw that almost all the wreaths had some tears of joy and some of sorrow; but she came at last to one that was quite full of tears of sorrow and in it no tears of joy at all, while on it was a name, “Peggy the Beggar.”[235]Scarcely had her eyes fallen upon the name than she awoke; awoke, and beheld bending over her a lady with a lovely face; but she looked proud and stern, and the little wanderer instinctively shrank away from her and crouched closer to the wall.“How very tiresome that this wretched child should choose my porch, of all places, to creep into for shelter,” cried the lady, in a cold, unfeeling tone. “Yet I cannot turn the unfortunate thing away on such a night as this. It’s a poor Christmas indeed for the poor child,” she added, in a more tender way. “Here, Smith, take up this little beggar and carry her to the kitchen, give her something to eat, and tell Jane to put some dry things on her.”A tall servant came forward and lifted the ragged bundle of humanity in his arms as tenderly as a mother would have done. The man had just such another little girl at home, and his heart yearned with sympathy for the outcast as he bore her along the great hall of the house. Certainly the place was strange to the child; but as in her dream she seemed to remember everything, so now it appeared to her that the objects upon which she gazed had been familiar to her a long, long time ago, and her dream came back[236]to her so vividly that she cried out aloud, “Oh, Frank! Frank! Dear brother, where are you hiding? Do come to me. Come to sister Nellie. I am not playing now.”The stern lady had followed her servant with his living burden; but when that cry reached her she stopped short, and grasped at the wall for support. What sudden spasm caused the beautiful, haughty face to grow instantly pale, and the tall form to bend trembling down as if struck with palsy?“Oh, Frank, come to sister Nellie. Dear brother, come.”With a wild, hysterical sob the stately figure bowed lower yet, and pressed her arms upon her throbbing bosom as if each of the little outcast’s words had been cruel dagger-thrusts that were piercing her through and through.Coldness, pride, the vigorous will, that moulds martyrs and devils alike, was strong within the woman, yet the combination of all three had no power against that weak out-cry—“Come to sister Nellie, Frank!”Ere the low, faint wail had died out, the proud lady had snatched the poor child to her bosom, and covering the hot, unwashed face with passionate kisses, cried aloud,—“I—I had a darling Nellie once, and a golden-haired[237]boy also, whom we called Frank, but they were buds that faded here to bloom in heaven. And now their dear voices will never fall upon my ears again. Alas! Alas!”Then like all else she had seen in this place, it seemed to the child that the face of the beautiful lady was not altogether strange to her. The very caress was like the endearing embrace of a mother, whose heart had longed and yearned for her lost ones, and the poor little outcast wondered how it all could be, until she lost all consciousness and began to dream again.[Contents]CHAPTER II.It was a long and troubled dream. Days and weeks appeared to pass away in which the little sleeper could remember nothing clearly. At one time the beautiful lady would appear to be bending fondly over her, and then the face would change suddenly to that of a wretched hag, whom she had known and called mother, in the miserable home she had within the slums of the city. From this place came terrible voices in her ears, and terrible things struggling round the bed. Flames of fire darted and danced in her poor, weary eyes; but through all this she beheld the fairy of the[238]cavern appear again, holding in his hand the wreath whereon was written her name. He held it towards her gleaming with diamond tear-drops. How she struggled to reach it! The more she tried the weaker she became, but it seemed to her that there was an invisible arm round her for her to rest upon, and though faint and weary, her failing footsteps ever got nearer and nearer the precious circlet. Then followed an interval of soft, soothing quiet, and the eyes of our heroine opened drowsily upon the waking world again. She felt very weak, but somehow very happy. She was lying on a clean, white bed in a comfortable room, which appeared as if she had seen it before somewhere in her dreams. As the child raised her weary eyelids her gaze rested upon the prostrate form of the lady kneeling by her bedside, with her face hidden in the bedclothes, sobbing. The poor wanderer felt sorry that one who had been so kind to her should weep in trouble, and raising her little warm hand, she laid it on the beautiful head of the kneeler, and uttered the familiar word, “Mamma.”The little sufferer knew not why that tender word rose to her lips before any other; she only knew that the affectionate term was in her heart and mind—that was all.[239]At the sound the grand lady raised her head, and kissed the child again and again with maternal fondness, her lips murmuring the while, “My own darling child. My Nellie, whom I thought had departed from me for ever. Heaven has been good to me.”Then for the first time the little match vendor shed tears of joy. Sleep came to her again, from which she was aroused by the sound of voices talking in whispers close to the bed.“I am so sorry to have disobeyed you, ma’am, but you must forgive me, and let me stay and nurse my own little pet,” cried a girl’s voice in pleading accents. “When they told me at home that the stolen child had come home again to you, I couldn’t keep away. I know it’s all along of my carelessness that she was took away. Yet I loved the deary and was compelled to come, although you must hate the very sight of me.”“Hush, nurse, hush!” replied the lady’s voice sadly. “I am so glad you have come. Since I lost my Nellie, and Frank died, and my dear husband perished at sea, I have been a friendless, lonely, and unhappy woman. Now my lost darling has been restored to me again the world will not seem so bleak and weary. You shall stay and help me nurse my stolen baby into health again.”[240]It seemed very strange to the child, as she lay back in the bed, to learn the early history of her own life; how she had been stolen away when she was only a wee toddler; how her brother, just one year older than herself, had pined and died for his sister; how the poor mother, with all her grand and fashionable friends, had felt herself deserted, and had hardened her heart against all good influences, until the cry of the frightened little outcast had reached and softened it.There were long, weary watchings by the couch of the sufferer, filled with anxiety and suspense. For the mother who had found her lost one had a vague dread haunting her that her darling might be snatched ruthlessly from her a second time, and by a foe more terrible than a kidnapper. The child’s sleep was filled with dreams of angels. They carried her again and again to that rocky chamber where hung the garlands; and each time she found her own all ablaze with tears of joy, and nearly finished.On one occasion she stretched forth her hand to take it, but the fairy came up to her and said,—“Not yet, my dear; you shall wear it very soon.”The child related these dreams to her mother, who answered nothing, but fell down upon her[241]knees and prayed that the garland should not be completed yet awhile.Nellie could not understand all this, but one night she felt very weak and cold. Her mother was seated by the bedside gazing with greedy eyes at the poor, worn, pinched-up little face. There were others in the room, but the patient now saw only her mother.“Dear mamma!”“What is it, my darling?”“I have seen the garlands again. Mine is finished at last.”The face of the lady grew very pale. She hid her weeping eyes and muttered,—“A little while longer, only a little while.”“I know what the garland meansnow, mamma; I am going to die,”“Oh no! my dear, long lost pet, not yet, not yet. I cannot spare you, now you have come back to me. Stay with me a little while—just a little while. You are so very dear to me.”Who shall say what agony of supplication in that low wail of entreaty? Who shall fathom its intensity?“But you will come too, mamma?” said the weak voice, now grown very weak and feeble. “You have cried so much, your garland must be nearly ready.”[242]A great sob, which shook the tall, shapely figure like a reed, was the only answer. She raised her head at length, and the eyes of mother and child met.“Oh, when I get there, I’ll prepare your garland, mamma,” came the faint voice, almost in a whisper now.For a moment there was a wild light in the poor mother’s eyes. The words appeared to stir some old memory in her heart. She looked into the peaceful face of her dying child, and the voice became more calm and steady.“It is very hard to part, my darling, very hard; but I will try to bear it all, so that tears of joy may mingle with tears of sorrow in my wreath of immortality.”The words fell on an ear that heard them not. There was a look on the child’s face that caused the mother to rush forward and throw her arms about the poor weak clay, as if to stay the departing spirit in its flight.“Oh, mamma! there is little brother Frank with my garland. See! he is beckoning to me.”And then the weary little head fell forward on the mother’s shoulder, and the tired spirit entered into rest.[243][Contents]IN THE CLOUDS.They came to the boy one night when he was abed, and said they would take him with them in their fairy balloon.Willie Fenton told his father and mother that he had seen the elfins, and what they had promised him, but they only laughed at him and told him he had been dreaming.Our hero wasn’t to be convinced that it was only a dream. Hadn’t he seen them—three fairy creatures no higher than his top—enter his bedroom through the keyhole, and seat themselves on his pillow, and begin talking about the glorious sights to be seen in the clouds?If Willie Fenton had been born up in a balloon his youthful fancy could not have been imbued with a greater passion for the sport. Indeed, since he was a child of four or five years old our youthful aeronaut had blown soap bubbles, and had watched them soar away in the sun, glistening with all the hues of the rainbow, and his dreams[244]at night and aspirations by day had been to emulate those daring spirits who surpassed the mighty eagle in his flight into the bright blue sky above the clouds.Willie’s home, situated on Mount Pleasant, was in the vicinity of many a romantic spot calculated to favour the elves in their adventure, and one fine morning, as the lad was returning from a neighbouring farm, he espied his three nocturnal visitors seated under a large gum-tree awaiting him. Willie recognised them in a moment, and doffing his cap said, “Good-morning, gentlemen.”The fairies rose and saluted him, and answered that they were quite ready to fulfil their promises. Our hero thanked them for their kindness, and at the same time expressed himself quite ready to accompany them. Whereupon the three elves conducted him in silence along a narrow ravine which opened out on a still, quiet glen on the banks of the river. Fastened securely between two huge trees, Willie beheld a great, pear-shaped thing, swaying to and fro with the motion of the breeze, and at which the elves pointed and said, “Behold, our cloud car.”“IT WAS A GRAND BALLOON.”“IT WAS A GRAND BALLOON.”Yes, it was a grand balloon, already inflated and with a cage attached, bordered with wild roses and creepers, that reached from the apex of the[245]monster down to the car beneath, which hung suspended, like a flower-pot in a balcony. How it surged and struggled desperately with the wind, as if it were endowed with life, and wished to escape from fastenings that held it, and soar upward! And how frail it appeared, as Willie approached and examined it! Was it made of cloth? No, too fine for cloth. Cotton? Nay, it was too soft for cotton, or silk either. Yet the whole fabric seemed no weightier than a gossamer. The fairies smiled at the boy’s curiosity, and invited[246]him to enter the car. Our little hero had no sooner complied than the elfins seated themselves at his side. And one of them, who had a bright diadem glittering upon his breast, stood up and waved his hand as a signal, when instantly the balloon shot aloft with inconceivable velocity.The young mortal closed his eyes and held his breath for one brief moment; but when he looked forth, the earth appeared to be miraculously vanishing from his sight. Although the ascent was fearfully rapid, the motion of the balloon was quite imperceptible. The morning was bright and sunny, the sky a deep, Prussian blue, and as the boy craned his neck over the cage and gazed below, what a glorious sight met his view. There stretched beneath him were the golden valleys of his birthplace, with hundreds of farms dotting the landscape, and no bigger than a child’s toy. From his elevated position the houses were as so many dots, and the people in the fields as tiny ants. The flowing Torrens, that had seemed so broad and deep, appeared as a silver thread, and the high cliffs and hills were on a level with the dull round earth. Willie Fenton felt not the least alarm; on the contrary, his courage rose with the balloon, as it sped upward to the sky. The elfin with the diadem threw out some pieces of paper, which[247]seemed to drop like stones. This, however, was not so, but only the effect of the terrible rate at which they were travelling. Higher, higher, still higher. Now they disappeared from view, in a thick vapour forming the white clouds, which looked so light and fleecy from earth. The balloon did not remain long in these, but quickly rose into a clear atmosphere beyond. And here the scene changed to one splendid in the extreme. Above them nothing but the big round sun, and the deep azure of the heavens. Beneath no dingy earth, dim and gloomy, but a brilliant sea of sparkling cloud, rose tinted, dancing and flashing in the sun’s rays. The cloud completely hid everything below, and lay beneath like a huge, rolling billow, the top of which flashed back the sunlight till our hero almost fancied it was a wave of driven snow spangled with diamonds. How long Willie might have remained in his rapt trance of wonder it is hard to say, but he was aroused by a feeling of cold, and a difficulty in breathing.“Our mortal friend will find it very chilly up here,” said Pippin, who wore the diadem, answering the boy’s unspoken words.“It has grown very cold indeed, gentlemen,” rejoined Willie, his teeth chattering as he spoke.“Ha, ha! Listen to him, Needle; hear him,[248]Bobbin; he’s beginning to cry out already!” cried Pippin to his companions. “Cold, eh? Well, we have a cure for cold, and for frost and snow—whole mountains of it. Eh, Needle?” As Pippin spoke, he unrolled a parcel which had been lying unnoticed at the bottom of the car, and produced a cloak made of the same material as the balloon. Without more ado they enveloped Willie from head to heel in the garment, with just sufficient space left clear about his eyes so that he could see, the rest of him being completely covered. In a few moments he began to breathe more freely, and the rarity of the air made no impression upon him at all.“You feel all right now, Willie Fenton?” questioned Bobbin. Willie mumbled, and nodded his head in the affirmative.“Let us mount higher then, my brethren. Excelsior!” exclaimed Pippin of the diadem. “Bold indeed the mortal who first conceived and carried out the idea of making the unstable element water subservient to his genius, as witness the ships that come and go on the bosom of the ocean; but it is left to us, the elves of Australia, to curb the air and make it do our bidding. Higher and higher go we, to show this mortal the wonders of the upper world.”Upward still, beyond the cloud which breaks[249]for a moment and gives them a glimpse of the sea, and the coast-line away to the westward seeming no broader than a single thread. And now the cold became intense, but the fairies and their companion felt it not, for their gaze was fixed upon a sight that no emperor or king had ever seen—and perchance never would. If all the diamonds in that rich valley visited by Sinbad the Sailor, also all the gems which Aladdin’s lamp could have procured, and all that ever have been seen in the world had been pressed into the service—they would have failed utterly in producing one tithe of the strange sight Willie now saw. The whole dome of the balloon was covered as it were in a diamond mantle. A shower of glittering gems was falling in all directions, apparently coming from the blue void above, and sprinkling down, with a fluttering motion like that of butterflies, and then disappearing in the vast abyss below.Lost in amazement at this marvellous vision, the boy frees one of his hands, and reaches to catch one of the heavenly gems; but he discovers the diamond shower is in reality only thin sheets of newly-formed ice.The elves laugh at him and the look of wonder on his face. And Pippin explains in a grave[250]tone, “Boy, we have entered a region where some watery vapour hath been, which the cold hath turned into ice, and now being heavier than the atmosphere falls fluttering to the earth. Towards the earth, I say, since I know well it will never reach it, because before it can do so it will encounter a warmer region, when the ice will again become water and the water vapour. Do you understand?”“Oh yes. It’s the vapour which makes the clouds, isn’t it?” answered Willie.“Just so,” replied the elfin. “And now having fulfilled our promise, we will descend again to old mother earth.”Like a streak of light the fairy balloon shot downward through the glittering, diamond shower, through the mist and cloud, until the bright landscape appeared in view. The elfins, Pippin, Needle, and Bobbin, landed Willie safely by the river-bank, and the boy reached home just in time for dinner.*   *   *The three elves still haunt that dell by the Torrens, so if any of my readers are anxious for a trip in the fairy balloon, I have no doubt Messrs. Pippin & Co. will be only too glad to oblige them—that is, if they are at home.[251][Contents]WONDERLAND.Mount with me, my little friends, upon the wings of fancy. Don’t be alarmed—the conveyance is perfectly safe, and warranted free from accidents. Hi, Presto! Here we stand upon the famous Blue Mountains of our neighbour, whose glens, dells, and deep ravines are haunted by creatures beautiful beyond conception, and grotesque, and stranger than any painter dreamed of. Yonder, on the mountain-side, the western train is seen puffing its way along the gigantic “zigzag,” like a huge serpent, and whose hot breath takes weird shapes before it is lost in the blue haze above it. Beneath, on that natural terrace of rock, stands the humble hut of the charcoal-burner, whose single window overlooks a deep valley of monster trees—fallen and half-buried amongst great blocks of stone and rank vegetation.But who is that woman who is wringing her hands, and calling and weeping by turns, as she runs to and fro among the chaos of undergrowth[252]and the ledges around? It is the wife of the charcoal-burner, and she calls for her two children, who have wandered away and become lost in this wild region. It was early morn when they strolled forth to play—Edith and Winnie, both little toddlers, and quite helpless—yet the sun is on the rim of the horizon and they cannot be found.“Coo-ee, coo-ee!—Winnie—Edie, my darlings, where are you? Oh, where are you?” cries the poor mother; and her voice grows faint and weary as she calls to the echoing cliffs about. She becomes aware that some one is answering her as she is about to retrace her steps to the hut. The voice is far off at first, but it becomes gradually nearer and nearer, until a rough mountain goat with long horns presents itself before her.“I am here. What do you want with me?” it said, bowing itself before her.It was a beautiful animal, with a soft, white, silky fleece, and large, kind-looking eyes, while its voice sounded so full of sympathy that the suffering mother answered readily,—“Oh, sir! I have lost my two children; pray tell me, have you seen them?”“I have seen them,” answered the goat. “And if you have sufficient courage to follow my advice[253]they shall soon be restored to you. I am the guardian sprite of this glen, which my race have occupied since the Flood. Here on this mountain are two kingdoms; the one on the surface calledLove; the other, beneath the surface, termedHate. We are ever at war with each other; therefore, I am here to serve you. Learn, O mortal, that Croak and Gloom, of the lower world, have stolen your children, and they have hid them within the bowels of the mountains.”“Then they are dead, and I shall never see them more,” replied the woman, falling on her knees and weeping bitterly.“I have said they shall be restored to you again,” replied the goat quickly. “My power is far mightier than the whole nation of Hate combined. Have you faith that I can help you?”“Yes,” she answered, “becauseLoveis stronger thanHate.”“Good. Extend your hand and pluck a tuft of hair from my right side, roll it in your fingers, then twist it round your finger above your wedding-ring.”The charcoal-burner’s wife did as the goat desired her, but she had scarcely finished before the animal vanished from her sight, and she felt herself bodily lifted up, and borne away over the deep ravine,[254]and across over-hanging cliffs and the tops of tall trees, and away down into a yawning chasm, which seemed like a deep and bottomless well. Down, down, she went swiftly, yet with an easy, sliding motion that was not at all unpleasant, while she felt no fear, save for the fate of her little ones. She had a feeling of a powerful presence being near and about her—extending from the finger on which was twisted the goat’s hair round and round her person, and beneath her feet, like the strong net-work of a balloon. Even when the void grew dim and black, a strange glow, emanating from the ring, lit up the darkness and revealed to her wondering eyes many earth-bound treasures. Here gleamed thick seams of coal, and there slabs of tin and copper ores, and beyond these shone white masses of stone, like marble, with thick veins of gold therein, which sparkled athwart the woman’s eyes, and made her almost forget her children, so great became her desire to possess some of it While she cogitated she suddenly became conscious that she was upon her feet, standing before a large cavern gate, guarded by a tall griffin, who cried out the moment he espied her, “Who dare enter into the realm of Hate?”And the woman answered quickly, “Love. Love[255]dares everything, because, being pure, it is fearless. I have come to demand my children.”“THE MONSTER ... ADVANCED WITH A LARGE STONE.”“THE MONSTER … ADVANCED WITH A LARGE STONE.”The monster laughed at her, and advanced with a large stone to dash out her brains; but the white goat, transformed now into a handsome youth, with a sharp, gleaming sword in his hand, advanced boldly to the rescue, and soon defeated the grim warder, took his keys without more ado, and opening several doors, led his companion through a labyrinth of caves until they reached a second gate guarded like the first, the warder having the[256]body of an ass and the head of a wolf. “Who knocks at the gates of Hate?” he said fiercely.“Love,” answered the valiant fairy, waving his sword.“Love isn’t wanted here,” replied the monster. “Begone! Or I will kill you both.” Whereupon he opened the gate and advanced towards them; but the elfin engaged him at once, and so great was his power that he overturned the creature in a moment.“Now, Malice, I have thee,” cried the brave sprite sternly. “Yield up thy keys and get thee hence, and hide thyself, together with Envy, at the outer gate, for if I find you here on my return I will slay you both.”Malice gave up his keys and ran howling along the rocky caverns of the place; while Love, the elfin, led the woman onward through a catacomb of dismal vapour, which ended in a series of arched chambers, draped and festooned with sheets of solid gold. The horrid creatures who inhabited the place were hideous and frightful to behold. Some had two heads, others were without legs or arms; many crawled like snakes, and not a few presented the appearance of being half man and half beast. These monsters fled in all directions at the sight of Love, and so he passed onward[257]unmolested until he came to Cavernous Hall—the palace of Croak and Gloom—and here he found the two great chiefs of Hate with the children, Winnie and Edith. The hall was filled with the rank and fashion of the nation to see the wonderful mortals of the upper world; and into their midst walked Love and the woman hand-in-hand.“Who are these strange people?” cried the terrible voice of Gloom, grasping the little ones in his arms, for they had uttered a glad cry at sight of their mother.“My children! Oh, give me my children!” pleaded the woman.“Mortal, how came you here?” inquired the grim Croak.“It was I who guided her hither,” answered the elfin.“Then thou shalt die,” exclaimed the vast throng, as with one voice.“Not all your hosts of this dim region nor your power can destroy me. Dash me to pieces against the rugged walls of your palace, burn me to ashes, and scatter them to the vapours, still I shall rise up stronger, in some other form to give you battle. Give the woman her little ones.”“Beware! Let the race of this mortal give us back our stolen treasures. They have invaded[258]our domain, and have rifled it of some of its richest treasures. Through soil and rock and granite they have delved down, down into this under world, until we could hear the ring of their tools. And we have seen them change our dim regions into a wilderness.”While Croak uttered these words the elfin glided swiftly forward, seized the children, and placing them safely in the mother’s arms, cried hurriedly, “Begone; run to the outer gate, and my power shall bear you company and carry you swiftly to the upper air. Quick!”And the woman, pressing her babes tightly to her throbbing bosom, fled away, and rising through the mists which obscure the lower world, regained the hut on the cliff; while Love battled with the legions of Hate, and battles with them still—ay! and will battle with them to the end of time.[259][Contents]BABY’S VISITORS.Open the window, wide. How serene and peaceful it is out yonder, where the stars gleam and sparkle—some faint and small as a diamond speck, others large, clear, and dazzling, as the eyes of angels gazing through the dim void earthward to that little room where Baby sleeps the sleep of death. It may have been the shadowing of that radiance, attendant on the sinless ones, whom we call angels, which had cast athwart the infant’s features a sheen of glory, and changed them into the seeming of a sleeping cherub, or perchance the immortal glow that shimmered, widening and circling as it fell, was but the forerunner of that celestial band who bridge space andsuffer little children to go untoHim!See the mother kneeling beside her dead babe, her slender frame convulsed with agony. Not a tear, not a sob, that breaks forth for her lost[260]darling but freights its newly awakened soul and holds it backward from the angels. How can it soar while the kindred spirit below wails its absence, and every moan shouts, trumpet tongued, “Come back! Come back!”“It was my world,” she says, “my whole world, and it has gone from me like a vision. Alas! Common things live on; earth’s mighty heart still throbs! Creation lifts its voice in sea and air, and in the world’s great mart. Music, life, and motion are everywhere, save in my babe.”Alas! for thee, fond mother, whose vision mounts no higher than the baby’s cot. Alas! for thee!Frail, yet beautiful, were the creatures who entered at the open window. Softly as kindly thoughts that gathered round the infant sleeper in wonder, and laid a ring of flowers about it, until they formed a rosy cradle. And then, as the sighing wind or those more delicate strains heard in dreams, the voices of the elfins rose upon the stillness of the night like silver bells.Solemn was their chant, and weird and fanciful, which anon changed to lighter vein and measure. The mourner heard the sounds, and wondered as the cadence rose and fell upon her grief-dulled ears, but the singers were invisible to her.[261]“Nurslings of the summer airBuzz, buzz, here, there.So we! quaint and gay,Antic gambol,Gnome and Fay.“Whispering to the smiling moon,Trill, trill, ‘Come soon.’So we! quaint and gay,Antic gambol,Gnome and Fay.“As the breezes come and go.Hum, hum. Just so.So we! quaint and gay,Antic gambol,Gnome and Fay.”As a single drop of water contains things with life and being, which cannot be seen with the naked eye, so in space dwell the creatures of the imagination, both wise and beautiful, being full of love and sympathy for mankind and goodwill towards women and young children. Show me a selfish, disobedient boy, or a naughty girl, who ever saw a fairy. You can’t. I defy you to produce one. But many a bright youth and pretty maiden, who love truth and obedience better than play or lollies, can testify that the lovely persons who came to them in dreams were the same who now stood round the cradle of the dead baby.How these wee people had loved it, and had[262]kept watch and ward over it, ever since they had espied it in its basket cradle downstairs! Fresh from the mysterious star-world, of which they knew nothing, they had marvelled at it, and had crowed and cooed and sung to it, until it had begun to know them, and answer after its fashion, and laugh, and shake its fat, dimpled fists and crow too.How they had watched it when it slept, and filled its tiny brain with innocent visions pure as the setting sun! How they had caused their magic to mantle its slumber, and the little rosebud mouth to open out in smiles! How silent and still now! No smile parts the pale lips. Not all the witchcraft in Fairyland, nor all the songs sung by sprite or fay to fretful babyhood, can lift but even one slender hair from those drooping eyelids which shroud the dim, blue eyes.“Baby’s dead,” said one, and “Dead, dead, dead,” repeated all the elfin circle.“Let us bear it hence unto the open glade. The bright beams of the morning sun will bring back its look of gladness, and we shall hear its voice again.”“Ay, bear it hence,” replied the chorus.Cradled in the wild flowers they had spread around it, the elfins carried off their silent burden, and laid it gently within a scented grove, and as the glorious morn broke forth to life and gladness,[263]the birds gathered together in the fairy haunt and sang a requiem.Up rose the sun and filled the dell with golden splendour. Its shining beams spread through the foliage in amber-coloured radiance, and played about the fair head of the dead baby until the creatures around shrank back in awe at the sight; but the sun brought no light to its eyes, nor smile to its lips. And so they carried the infant back again within its little room, and departed wondering.Oh, weeping mother, whose bitter tears have drenched thy baby’s winding sheet, had’st thou faith even as a grain of mustard seed in theMaster, thou couldst see above thee, beyond that cold, dead clay, the forms of angels bearing thy little one to eternal rest.Oh, ye parents, shall I preach to you, as well as to your children? Ye who, when your daily task is done, sit brooding o’er the loss of some fondly remembered child, now sleeping its long sleep in death, take heart if ye have loved it; then it is not dead, but lives again within you. Love cannot die, for it is as immortal as the soul. Like Jacob’s ladder, it is the broad pathway from Paradise to earth, by which our little ones come back to us in visions and in dreams to give us assurance of the tender care of God.[264][Contents]RUBYWINGS.[Contents]CHAPTER I.THE JOURNEY.Come with me for an hour, out of the hard, stony by-ways and hot, dusty thoroughfares of this work-a-day city.Mount behind me on the broad wings of this carrier-bird, which most men have, yet which no mortal hath ever seen! Sit close and fear not, for our pillion is soft and easy, the steed safe. Now mount and away!“Where silvery songs of bird and bee,Of leaf and lake and stream,Round us hum and flit and fleeWhile we linger silentlyIn our noon-tide dream.”Nothing but ice! Walls of it, peaks, spires, towers, grottoes, floors. Ice everywhere! It is of all manner of delicate hues—pale green and blue; and where the edges catch the sun it shines even brighter than the glitter of a thousand clustering[265]diamonds. This is Silverhaze, the border of Fairyland. The King of Silverhaze stood at the ice-bound portal of his kingdom, when he observed the approach of a very old man. The gait of the mortal wayfarer was slow and feeble, and he often paused to rest ere he reached the gates where stood the monarch.“Who lives here, Spirit?” he asked of the Frost King.“I,” responded the tall, bearded form, in a sweet voice which sounded like a song heard a long way off.“Where is Fairyland, and how am I to get there?” inquired the old gentleman in a faint tone.“You are standing on the boundary line of the region you seek,” answered the King; “this is the wall encircling the land of the Australian Elves, O mortal!”“What a thick rampart of ice!” exclaimed the old man, curiously inspecting the great white barrier.“True,” answered the Frost King. “This wall is made from the dew and rain of Earth that are not delicate enough to moisten the tender grass of Elfland. I catch the mists as they wreathe themselves upward, and divide them; that which[266]has touched and been tainted with the under world I build up into these icy walls; that which is pure as the morning cloud floats on into the country where you are going.”“Thank you; may I wander onward?”“Ay! Few come here to break my repose. I live here alone. Continue your journey onwards towards Moonrise, and you will see all you want.”“Shall I see everything, O King Frost?”“Nay, that will depend on yourself. If you can fling away from you every thought that is not fit for the pure mind of an innocent child, then shall you behold wonders.”“Alas! great King, I am afraid I cannot do that. Who can, who can? In my youth I never heard of this glorious Fairyland. Childhood, young manhood, mature age, were all spent by me in getting and hoarding money; and now the time is drawing near when I must depart; but ere I go I want to view the silver mosses and green slopes of these regions.”The old man bent low before the Ice Monarch, whose cold blue eyes changed to flashing steel.“The old man bent low before the ice monarch.”Australian Fairy Tales][Page 266.“The old man bent low before the ice monarch.”“I can help you,” he answered. “Come here, and let me touch your forehead. If you wish it in your heart, I will draw from you your memories and thoughts, and send you a child into Fairyland.[267]Your past will lie here for you in my ice cave, a burden or a blessing, for you to resume as you go out.”“How, a burden or a blessing?” asked the mortal.“That again will depend on yourself; according to what you see in your travels will yourpastseem to you on your return.”“But you said I should see all.”“You will have the power of seeing all, yet you will only see that which you care to look upon.”As the Frost King spoke, he advanced and touched the mortal’s brow with his finger. While he did so there glided beneath the old man’s feet a silver cloud-car, which instantly enveloped him and carried him away from the ice-clad border with the swiftness of a sea-gull. Amazement grew upon him as he felt himself borne away and no visible thing in view. Then remembering what the Spirit had said, he exclaimed aloud, “Can I not see what is about me?”The words were hardly uttered when he perceived that he was the occupant of a gorgeous conveyance drawn by a team of butterflies, with a lovely child seated therein driving them. Wonderful indeed the delicate tints and shades which the moonbeams had woven in her robes. Still more wondrous[268]the blended purity and beauty of her face. Exquisitely, deliciously soft and musical the voice that addressed him in accents like the soft south wind, wooing the trees at summer’s eventide.“Welcome, Sir Mortal. Welcome to Elfland.”“Dear child, art thou a fairy?” he cried in surprise.“‘I AM QUEEN OF THE BUTTERFLIES,’ SHE REPLIED.”“ ‘I AM QUEEN OF THE BUTTERFLIES,’ SHE REPLIED.”“Yes! My name is Rubywings,” she answered, with a beaming smile.“Rubywings,” he repeated. “It is a delightful name, my child; but why do they call thee Rubywings?”“Because I am Queen of the Butterflies,” she[269]replied; “and because I am also the messenger of Peace and Charity to the good of the Earth. Invisible to all else of mortal birth am I. Peace! Let us onward.”Brilliantly flashed the wings of the butterflies as they wafted the cloud-car, light and joyous as the golden orioles that flew before them. Here they fluttered among curious rocks of veined and marbled stone, here and there soft mosses, which grew in little clumps, some in scales, like trays on which stood silver cups for the fays to drink out of. Then ferns peeped out with their long tresses that blew backwards and forwards in the wind. A trickle of water began to flow from a deep cranny, and tall plants blossomed along its course. Suddenly they came upon a wide, beautiful plain, robed with such lovely, silk-like grass, only to be found in these regions. Here tall palms tossed their feathery heads, while creepers, bearing flowers, streaked with gold and brown, climbed about their trunks.Still onward, with but a passing glimpse at the emerald carpet beneath, until they reached a fine lagoon, in the midst of which an island appeared to view, so fair and beautiful that the rest of the landscape turned bleak and barren by comparison. Over this wondrous place Rubywings guided the[270]cloud-car. Landing where a mossy bank sloped gently to the water, the fairy led her companion into such a charming garden that a burst of rapture broke from his lips at sight of it. The most refined imagination of mortal man never conceived such a world of rare beauty. No seasons came and went here, the flowers bloomed eternally. Like a jewelled crown encircling the brows of a queen, so a vast ring of pale blossoms surrounded this bower of loveliness—primrose, with her beseeching face, shy snowdrop, loving violet, with her whisper of summer, glad hyacinth, ringing a peal of bells, whose faint tinkle came upon the mortal’s ears, like subdued melody.Rubywings pointed out a soft couch of ferns, bordered with lilies, and said,—“Rest thee here awhile, O mortal. Sleep, dream, bewilder thyself. When thou wakest, thine eyes shall open upon the ministering spirits of Nature, which I go to bring around thee.“ ‘Bi baby bunting,I am going huntingFor the shadows as they fly,For the winds to waft them by;Bi baby bunting!’ ”Ere her childish song had ended Rubywings vanished, and the mortal fell asleep.[271][Contents]CHAPTER II.SHADOWS.The old mortal, whom the fays had christened Ready Money, slept soundly in that island garden into which he had been guided by Rubywings. And as he slumbered, behold the Fairy Queen approached with a golden wand in her hand. She stood over him and gently waved the wand to and fro, when lo! the flowers around and about instantly assumed the shape of frolicsome sprites who formed themselves into a vast ring about him. Again Rubywings lifted her enchanted staff, and the trees receded backwards in the distance as so many drifting clouds athwart the horizon. And waving her wand for the third time, a sudden darkness shrouded the island save where the man reposed.Round that clear, circular space, bordered by the crowded ranks of the elves, there shone a brilliant, steady, silvery light, brighter than the sun and softer than a moonbeam.Rubywings stooped and whispered in the sleeper’s ear. And as she did so, the magic ring widened and widened out, until at length it appeared to encompass the whole landscape. The beautiful[272]light increased simultaneously with the wonderful expansion of the garden, thereby adding a tenfold beauty to every object upon which it rested.“Behold, mortal, this is the valley of the shadows. First lift thine eyes,” cried the fairy.Ready Money obeyed, and saw much clearer than with his waking sight. Into the shimmering ring there glided the Monarch of the Shadows. He was not at all black or gloomy. Not in the least—his manners were soft and engaging, and his robe was decorated with all kinds of delicate tints, brown and silver-grey, and violet shaded with faint blue and azure. All the fays bowed down reverently before him, because they knew he was the greatest Shadow in the land. Painters loved him and made charming pictures of him, and poets sang of him and wrote songs in his praise, and yet neither painter nor poet could tell how great, how magnificent and glorious he was.Troop by troop, rank and column, the Shadows came out of the ravines, valleys and dells, and from the clefts in the hill sides, and from amongst the rocks, and approached the King in due order and gave an account of their several missions.Some told how they had spent their time in sick rooms, where people lay tossing in pain, and how they had rested the eyes of many a weary sufferer,[273]and shielded them from the glaring light, and how sometimes they had gathered thickly round them and lulled them into health-giving sleep. Others spoke of travellers far from home, who, longing to see their wives and children or friends once more, had been comforted by the Shadows, who took upon themselves the dear home figures and the scenes of home.The mortal listened eagerly to every word uttered by these ministers of Nature. Hitherto he had believed that Beam and Shadow alike had no life, any more than the particles of dust beneath his feet, and were just as useless. What sick couch hadhevisited? What heart comforted? What good accomplished for the benefit of his kindred? Why, the very Shadows, dim and soulless as they were, had done more good than he had done, and Ready Money trembled as the thought came home to him. One grand fellow bent his tall form before the Shadow King and said that when the summer sun waxed hot and fierce over the Australian Continent he cast himself across the fiery pathway of the burning rays, thereby refreshing many a broiling citizen, and making cool and restful shade beneath tree and hill, and giving beauty to field and stream, by throwing lovely, translucent shadows over them, and so bringing out to full[274]perfection the form and colour of all created things.Then there advanced Shadows of a gloomier, darker hue. Drooping, careworn, and sorrow-laden, they had come from the houses of the very poor, from courts of justice, from prison cells where criminals sat in silence and despair. Many had come from homes where there was no love of parents; where wives and husbands were at strife; where fierce words, and cruel blows, and hard usage were the rule of daily death in life. Others had just left places of business, where men, who ought to know better, toiled year after year to increase their wealth, striving after gold, lying and cheating for it, holding it tightly when they had it, and shuddering as the time drew near when they must go hence and leave it all to others.If these Shadows, fresh from counting-houses and cobweb-covered chambers, wherein sat men faded and wan, as the colourless walls around them, if they had been the Shadow only of this listening mortal, they could hardly have presented a more realistic picture of his life in the past than they did in their report of others.Lying there powerless, there came upon him a strong desire to get back amongst his fellow-men if it were only for one short month—nay, but only[275]the length of a brief day; for in it what good might be done and what atonement made! Alas! for our resolution. Ready Money was fast held beneath the influence of the wand of Rubywings, and therefore could not budge.When the grim Shadows rested, there came an altogether merrier group upon the scene. These related how they had given their attention to schoolrooms, alarming idle boys and girls by bringing the Shadow of their teachers upon them just in the middle of a game of romps. Others again had had rare fun with naughty little folks who were going to help themselves to sugar and jam, by looking over their shoulders and making believe thatsome onewas coming.Next the house Shadows took their turn, and showed how they engaged themselves, by making pleasant figures on the floor and walls, dancing in the firelight, and playing bo-peep in the curtains on winter evenings. When all the reports were finished, the King called to the Wind to dismiss the Shadows.Then the Wind came, and the Shadows, ere they took their departure, amused themselves as they liked best. In the most surprising manner some played leap-frog, hide-and-seek, and blind-man’s-buff. Others raced along the sward and[276]up the side of the hills, like so many will-o’-the-wisps; many changing into all kinds of strange and fantastic shapes, until the silver light dimmed and died out, and the beautiful garden resumed its grandeur as before.And a change came o’er the slumbering mortal. Slowly he opened his eyes, but the fairy with her enchanting wand was not there, nor the flowers and trees. Nothing, save the high boundary wall of ice and the white-bearded Frost King standing near.“Resume thy earth-woven memories, O mortal!” he said in a grave, solemn tone. “Stand upright that I may touch thee. So! Go thy way for a brief season. In thy daily wanderings here and there thy former friends shall not recognise thee! From henceforth, Greed, Selfishness, Envy, and all of that nature that were dear to thee, shall become thy bitter foes. Remember what the Shadows said. Farewell!”Down, earthward, with tottering and uncertain step went the mortal; downward, along the broad, sunny pathway, where innumerable birds sang, and trees waved, and where the low, hoarse murmur of bread-winning millions ascended to the Creator.[277]

[Contents]NELLIE.[Contents]CHAPTER I.Rain, rain—nothing but rain on this Christmas Eve, in the New South Wales metropolis. Although it was in the heat of summer the wind from the coast blew keenly through the almost deserted streets, and caused the fine mist-like wet to penetrate the stoutest overcoat. It was such weather that no one who had a roof over his head would care to be out in. But there was one wearily toiling from street to street, beneath the protection of the verandahs—a delicate-looking girl. With one hand she was trying to wrap her scanty rags round her wasted body, and in the other she held a half-dozen boxes of wax matches. Her face was worn, and pinched, and dirty, but it was a very beautiful, patient, little face; her hair, too, would have been a bright golden in natural hue, save that it was shaggy and dirty also. It was to little purpose that she offered her matches[229]to the passers-by, who were few and far between on this wet evening—they were all too anxious to get home out of the rain. From the brightly lighted streets the little wanderer crossed Hyde Park, and wended her way slowly up Oxford Street, and from thence to the left, along the Bay Road, where dwell the wealthy and the great. Why she had left the shops and all the busy part of the city for the wide, bleak road, dotted with high, massive houses standing out dark and cold in the falling rain, the poor child could not tell. Impelled by some strange fascination, she had quitted her usual haunts, and taken the opposite direction leading from her wretched home. Although it was getting late, and past the time when she should have returned, she had no thought of going home. Her memory was full of faint, indistinct thoughts, whether dreams or faraway realities, who shall say? She wondered why she had rambled so far from the city; but she also felt she must go on. Her ragged dress was soaked with rain and the keen wind was cruel and cutting, yet the poor little thing did not feel the rain or the wind; on the contrary, she felt as if she was on fire, save now and then there would pass a cold feeling all over her, which caused a shivering fit. The match girl was well aware that she would be[230]beaten when she returned to her wretched dwelling, yet, strange to say, she felt perfectly happy as she wandered farther away from it.Half way up the Bay Road there came over the little waif a feeling of dizziness, accompanied by a feeling of thirst, and again that burning sensation which again changed into a cold shiver, as she stood there. Close at hand there was a friendly porch belonging to a grand mansion, so the child crept into it, out of the wind and rain, and crouched down. No sooner had she done so than all her light-heartedness appeared to leave her, and she burst into tears. It was very strange that directly the little match vendor began to cry she heard a confusion of sounds around her—wild, mocking laughter, and shouts, and stamping of feet, and strange lights were dancing before her eyes. The stones on which she was lying seemed to be heaving and tossing, and she felt very frightened just for a moment, and then she fell fast asleep.These sounds still went on in her slumber, but they gradually got softer and softer, and sweeter and more subdued, until they changed into the most lovely music. And the little outcast thought she was standing in the midst of a very beautiful garden, and somehow it appeared to her that she[231]had known it all a long time ago. The rain and wind and the murky clouds had passed away, and it was glorious, sunny day; the flowers were in full bloom. Voices of birds and insects filled the balmy air, and gay coloured butterflies flitted here and there. While she was standing, wondering that all these strange things should seem so familiar to her, a handsome boy, with golden curls, approached, and exclaimed,—“Oh, dear sister Nellie, come and play. Why did you go away and stay away so long?”The dreamer looked up; she appeared to know the happy face quite well, and she assured him in a voice, that was not like her old thin, weak voice, but soft and clear, which seemed like a voice that had belonged to her a long, long time ago,—“Indeed, I don’t know where I have been, Frank; nor why I went away. Is it a long time since?” she asked timidly.“Such a long time, sister.”“I am here at last, Frank; and I will never go away again. Come, let us play in the garden.” And then she took his hand, and they walked on together amongst the flowers, while the thousand voices round about gave gladsome welcome. All the old miserable life of the beggar child seemed to fade quickly away here, leaving nothing save the[232]feeling that she had always been accustomed to the grand objects by which she found herself surrounded.“Suppose we have a game of hide and seek?” suggested Frank.“That will be very nice; but who shall hide first?”They had a little consultation about that very important matter, when it was decided that Nellie should hide first. It was most peculiar that the nameNelliecame quite natural to the dreamer, though she had been called Maggie, Meg, and sometimes Peggy as long as she could remember.So Nellie went to hide, and she hid behind a rosebush, and there she found a great hole in the ground big enough for her to creep into. Ere she had settled herself, Nellie found that the hole led to a dark passage, with a soft light glimmering at the end of it. Still wondering, she went towards the light. Passing along through several archways, the child emerged into a splendid cavern, lit up with many coloured, sparkling lights from thousands of precious stones, with which the sides and roof of the place were studded. While she was standing awe-struck with amazement at this magnificent place, she heard by her side a flutter of light wings, and turning, saw hovering[233]over her a beautiful little creature with long hair, which glittered like woven sunbeams. The form was rose-hued in colour, and from its shoulders sprang green wings, sheeny and lustrous as the throat of a humming-bird.“THE LOVELY BEING TOOK NELLIE BY THE HAND.”“THE LOVELY BEING TOOK NELLIE BY THE HAND.”“Come!” warbled the being, and the voice was dreamy and sweet, like the “coo” of a stock dove. “Come, and I will show you something wonderful.”And the lovely being took Nellie by the hand, and led the child through a cleft in the rock to[234]another room which was lined, roof, walls, and floor, with soft green moss. All round the room were hung beautiful garlands adorned with diamonds. Some fairly blazed again with gems, others contained only a few, fixed here and there, while fairy-like forms flitted to and fro continually, bearing in their hands more gems, which they fixed into the garlands. The dreamer was very much surprised at what she beheld.“Where do they get all those diamonds to put into the garlands?” she inquired of her companion.“The diamonds,” answered her conductor, “are the tears of sorrow shed by the unhappy people in the world; for always while they are weeping there are unseen watchers ready waiting to receive their tears and convey them here.”“And what are those very large gems, that shine so brightly in the middle of the finished garlands?”“Those are tears of joy; no garland can be finished withoutthem.”The child wandered round the chamber, and saw that almost all the wreaths had some tears of joy and some of sorrow; but she came at last to one that was quite full of tears of sorrow and in it no tears of joy at all, while on it was a name, “Peggy the Beggar.”[235]Scarcely had her eyes fallen upon the name than she awoke; awoke, and beheld bending over her a lady with a lovely face; but she looked proud and stern, and the little wanderer instinctively shrank away from her and crouched closer to the wall.“How very tiresome that this wretched child should choose my porch, of all places, to creep into for shelter,” cried the lady, in a cold, unfeeling tone. “Yet I cannot turn the unfortunate thing away on such a night as this. It’s a poor Christmas indeed for the poor child,” she added, in a more tender way. “Here, Smith, take up this little beggar and carry her to the kitchen, give her something to eat, and tell Jane to put some dry things on her.”A tall servant came forward and lifted the ragged bundle of humanity in his arms as tenderly as a mother would have done. The man had just such another little girl at home, and his heart yearned with sympathy for the outcast as he bore her along the great hall of the house. Certainly the place was strange to the child; but as in her dream she seemed to remember everything, so now it appeared to her that the objects upon which she gazed had been familiar to her a long, long time ago, and her dream came back[236]to her so vividly that she cried out aloud, “Oh, Frank! Frank! Dear brother, where are you hiding? Do come to me. Come to sister Nellie. I am not playing now.”The stern lady had followed her servant with his living burden; but when that cry reached her she stopped short, and grasped at the wall for support. What sudden spasm caused the beautiful, haughty face to grow instantly pale, and the tall form to bend trembling down as if struck with palsy?“Oh, Frank, come to sister Nellie. Dear brother, come.”With a wild, hysterical sob the stately figure bowed lower yet, and pressed her arms upon her throbbing bosom as if each of the little outcast’s words had been cruel dagger-thrusts that were piercing her through and through.Coldness, pride, the vigorous will, that moulds martyrs and devils alike, was strong within the woman, yet the combination of all three had no power against that weak out-cry—“Come to sister Nellie, Frank!”Ere the low, faint wail had died out, the proud lady had snatched the poor child to her bosom, and covering the hot, unwashed face with passionate kisses, cried aloud,—“I—I had a darling Nellie once, and a golden-haired[237]boy also, whom we called Frank, but they were buds that faded here to bloom in heaven. And now their dear voices will never fall upon my ears again. Alas! Alas!”Then like all else she had seen in this place, it seemed to the child that the face of the beautiful lady was not altogether strange to her. The very caress was like the endearing embrace of a mother, whose heart had longed and yearned for her lost ones, and the poor little outcast wondered how it all could be, until she lost all consciousness and began to dream again.[Contents]CHAPTER II.It was a long and troubled dream. Days and weeks appeared to pass away in which the little sleeper could remember nothing clearly. At one time the beautiful lady would appear to be bending fondly over her, and then the face would change suddenly to that of a wretched hag, whom she had known and called mother, in the miserable home she had within the slums of the city. From this place came terrible voices in her ears, and terrible things struggling round the bed. Flames of fire darted and danced in her poor, weary eyes; but through all this she beheld the fairy of the[238]cavern appear again, holding in his hand the wreath whereon was written her name. He held it towards her gleaming with diamond tear-drops. How she struggled to reach it! The more she tried the weaker she became, but it seemed to her that there was an invisible arm round her for her to rest upon, and though faint and weary, her failing footsteps ever got nearer and nearer the precious circlet. Then followed an interval of soft, soothing quiet, and the eyes of our heroine opened drowsily upon the waking world again. She felt very weak, but somehow very happy. She was lying on a clean, white bed in a comfortable room, which appeared as if she had seen it before somewhere in her dreams. As the child raised her weary eyelids her gaze rested upon the prostrate form of the lady kneeling by her bedside, with her face hidden in the bedclothes, sobbing. The poor wanderer felt sorry that one who had been so kind to her should weep in trouble, and raising her little warm hand, she laid it on the beautiful head of the kneeler, and uttered the familiar word, “Mamma.”The little sufferer knew not why that tender word rose to her lips before any other; she only knew that the affectionate term was in her heart and mind—that was all.[239]At the sound the grand lady raised her head, and kissed the child again and again with maternal fondness, her lips murmuring the while, “My own darling child. My Nellie, whom I thought had departed from me for ever. Heaven has been good to me.”Then for the first time the little match vendor shed tears of joy. Sleep came to her again, from which she was aroused by the sound of voices talking in whispers close to the bed.“I am so sorry to have disobeyed you, ma’am, but you must forgive me, and let me stay and nurse my own little pet,” cried a girl’s voice in pleading accents. “When they told me at home that the stolen child had come home again to you, I couldn’t keep away. I know it’s all along of my carelessness that she was took away. Yet I loved the deary and was compelled to come, although you must hate the very sight of me.”“Hush, nurse, hush!” replied the lady’s voice sadly. “I am so glad you have come. Since I lost my Nellie, and Frank died, and my dear husband perished at sea, I have been a friendless, lonely, and unhappy woman. Now my lost darling has been restored to me again the world will not seem so bleak and weary. You shall stay and help me nurse my stolen baby into health again.”[240]It seemed very strange to the child, as she lay back in the bed, to learn the early history of her own life; how she had been stolen away when she was only a wee toddler; how her brother, just one year older than herself, had pined and died for his sister; how the poor mother, with all her grand and fashionable friends, had felt herself deserted, and had hardened her heart against all good influences, until the cry of the frightened little outcast had reached and softened it.There were long, weary watchings by the couch of the sufferer, filled with anxiety and suspense. For the mother who had found her lost one had a vague dread haunting her that her darling might be snatched ruthlessly from her a second time, and by a foe more terrible than a kidnapper. The child’s sleep was filled with dreams of angels. They carried her again and again to that rocky chamber where hung the garlands; and each time she found her own all ablaze with tears of joy, and nearly finished.On one occasion she stretched forth her hand to take it, but the fairy came up to her and said,—“Not yet, my dear; you shall wear it very soon.”The child related these dreams to her mother, who answered nothing, but fell down upon her[241]knees and prayed that the garland should not be completed yet awhile.Nellie could not understand all this, but one night she felt very weak and cold. Her mother was seated by the bedside gazing with greedy eyes at the poor, worn, pinched-up little face. There were others in the room, but the patient now saw only her mother.“Dear mamma!”“What is it, my darling?”“I have seen the garlands again. Mine is finished at last.”The face of the lady grew very pale. She hid her weeping eyes and muttered,—“A little while longer, only a little while.”“I know what the garland meansnow, mamma; I am going to die,”“Oh no! my dear, long lost pet, not yet, not yet. I cannot spare you, now you have come back to me. Stay with me a little while—just a little while. You are so very dear to me.”Who shall say what agony of supplication in that low wail of entreaty? Who shall fathom its intensity?“But you will come too, mamma?” said the weak voice, now grown very weak and feeble. “You have cried so much, your garland must be nearly ready.”[242]A great sob, which shook the tall, shapely figure like a reed, was the only answer. She raised her head at length, and the eyes of mother and child met.“Oh, when I get there, I’ll prepare your garland, mamma,” came the faint voice, almost in a whisper now.For a moment there was a wild light in the poor mother’s eyes. The words appeared to stir some old memory in her heart. She looked into the peaceful face of her dying child, and the voice became more calm and steady.“It is very hard to part, my darling, very hard; but I will try to bear it all, so that tears of joy may mingle with tears of sorrow in my wreath of immortality.”The words fell on an ear that heard them not. There was a look on the child’s face that caused the mother to rush forward and throw her arms about the poor weak clay, as if to stay the departing spirit in its flight.“Oh, mamma! there is little brother Frank with my garland. See! he is beckoning to me.”And then the weary little head fell forward on the mother’s shoulder, and the tired spirit entered into rest.[243]

NELLIE.

[Contents]CHAPTER I.Rain, rain—nothing but rain on this Christmas Eve, in the New South Wales metropolis. Although it was in the heat of summer the wind from the coast blew keenly through the almost deserted streets, and caused the fine mist-like wet to penetrate the stoutest overcoat. It was such weather that no one who had a roof over his head would care to be out in. But there was one wearily toiling from street to street, beneath the protection of the verandahs—a delicate-looking girl. With one hand she was trying to wrap her scanty rags round her wasted body, and in the other she held a half-dozen boxes of wax matches. Her face was worn, and pinched, and dirty, but it was a very beautiful, patient, little face; her hair, too, would have been a bright golden in natural hue, save that it was shaggy and dirty also. It was to little purpose that she offered her matches[229]to the passers-by, who were few and far between on this wet evening—they were all too anxious to get home out of the rain. From the brightly lighted streets the little wanderer crossed Hyde Park, and wended her way slowly up Oxford Street, and from thence to the left, along the Bay Road, where dwell the wealthy and the great. Why she had left the shops and all the busy part of the city for the wide, bleak road, dotted with high, massive houses standing out dark and cold in the falling rain, the poor child could not tell. Impelled by some strange fascination, she had quitted her usual haunts, and taken the opposite direction leading from her wretched home. Although it was getting late, and past the time when she should have returned, she had no thought of going home. Her memory was full of faint, indistinct thoughts, whether dreams or faraway realities, who shall say? She wondered why she had rambled so far from the city; but she also felt she must go on. Her ragged dress was soaked with rain and the keen wind was cruel and cutting, yet the poor little thing did not feel the rain or the wind; on the contrary, she felt as if she was on fire, save now and then there would pass a cold feeling all over her, which caused a shivering fit. The match girl was well aware that she would be[230]beaten when she returned to her wretched dwelling, yet, strange to say, she felt perfectly happy as she wandered farther away from it.Half way up the Bay Road there came over the little waif a feeling of dizziness, accompanied by a feeling of thirst, and again that burning sensation which again changed into a cold shiver, as she stood there. Close at hand there was a friendly porch belonging to a grand mansion, so the child crept into it, out of the wind and rain, and crouched down. No sooner had she done so than all her light-heartedness appeared to leave her, and she burst into tears. It was very strange that directly the little match vendor began to cry she heard a confusion of sounds around her—wild, mocking laughter, and shouts, and stamping of feet, and strange lights were dancing before her eyes. The stones on which she was lying seemed to be heaving and tossing, and she felt very frightened just for a moment, and then she fell fast asleep.These sounds still went on in her slumber, but they gradually got softer and softer, and sweeter and more subdued, until they changed into the most lovely music. And the little outcast thought she was standing in the midst of a very beautiful garden, and somehow it appeared to her that she[231]had known it all a long time ago. The rain and wind and the murky clouds had passed away, and it was glorious, sunny day; the flowers were in full bloom. Voices of birds and insects filled the balmy air, and gay coloured butterflies flitted here and there. While she was standing, wondering that all these strange things should seem so familiar to her, a handsome boy, with golden curls, approached, and exclaimed,—“Oh, dear sister Nellie, come and play. Why did you go away and stay away so long?”The dreamer looked up; she appeared to know the happy face quite well, and she assured him in a voice, that was not like her old thin, weak voice, but soft and clear, which seemed like a voice that had belonged to her a long, long time ago,—“Indeed, I don’t know where I have been, Frank; nor why I went away. Is it a long time since?” she asked timidly.“Such a long time, sister.”“I am here at last, Frank; and I will never go away again. Come, let us play in the garden.” And then she took his hand, and they walked on together amongst the flowers, while the thousand voices round about gave gladsome welcome. All the old miserable life of the beggar child seemed to fade quickly away here, leaving nothing save the[232]feeling that she had always been accustomed to the grand objects by which she found herself surrounded.“Suppose we have a game of hide and seek?” suggested Frank.“That will be very nice; but who shall hide first?”They had a little consultation about that very important matter, when it was decided that Nellie should hide first. It was most peculiar that the nameNelliecame quite natural to the dreamer, though she had been called Maggie, Meg, and sometimes Peggy as long as she could remember.So Nellie went to hide, and she hid behind a rosebush, and there she found a great hole in the ground big enough for her to creep into. Ere she had settled herself, Nellie found that the hole led to a dark passage, with a soft light glimmering at the end of it. Still wondering, she went towards the light. Passing along through several archways, the child emerged into a splendid cavern, lit up with many coloured, sparkling lights from thousands of precious stones, with which the sides and roof of the place were studded. While she was standing awe-struck with amazement at this magnificent place, she heard by her side a flutter of light wings, and turning, saw hovering[233]over her a beautiful little creature with long hair, which glittered like woven sunbeams. The form was rose-hued in colour, and from its shoulders sprang green wings, sheeny and lustrous as the throat of a humming-bird.“THE LOVELY BEING TOOK NELLIE BY THE HAND.”“THE LOVELY BEING TOOK NELLIE BY THE HAND.”“Come!” warbled the being, and the voice was dreamy and sweet, like the “coo” of a stock dove. “Come, and I will show you something wonderful.”And the lovely being took Nellie by the hand, and led the child through a cleft in the rock to[234]another room which was lined, roof, walls, and floor, with soft green moss. All round the room were hung beautiful garlands adorned with diamonds. Some fairly blazed again with gems, others contained only a few, fixed here and there, while fairy-like forms flitted to and fro continually, bearing in their hands more gems, which they fixed into the garlands. The dreamer was very much surprised at what she beheld.“Where do they get all those diamonds to put into the garlands?” she inquired of her companion.“The diamonds,” answered her conductor, “are the tears of sorrow shed by the unhappy people in the world; for always while they are weeping there are unseen watchers ready waiting to receive their tears and convey them here.”“And what are those very large gems, that shine so brightly in the middle of the finished garlands?”“Those are tears of joy; no garland can be finished withoutthem.”The child wandered round the chamber, and saw that almost all the wreaths had some tears of joy and some of sorrow; but she came at last to one that was quite full of tears of sorrow and in it no tears of joy at all, while on it was a name, “Peggy the Beggar.”[235]Scarcely had her eyes fallen upon the name than she awoke; awoke, and beheld bending over her a lady with a lovely face; but she looked proud and stern, and the little wanderer instinctively shrank away from her and crouched closer to the wall.“How very tiresome that this wretched child should choose my porch, of all places, to creep into for shelter,” cried the lady, in a cold, unfeeling tone. “Yet I cannot turn the unfortunate thing away on such a night as this. It’s a poor Christmas indeed for the poor child,” she added, in a more tender way. “Here, Smith, take up this little beggar and carry her to the kitchen, give her something to eat, and tell Jane to put some dry things on her.”A tall servant came forward and lifted the ragged bundle of humanity in his arms as tenderly as a mother would have done. The man had just such another little girl at home, and his heart yearned with sympathy for the outcast as he bore her along the great hall of the house. Certainly the place was strange to the child; but as in her dream she seemed to remember everything, so now it appeared to her that the objects upon which she gazed had been familiar to her a long, long time ago, and her dream came back[236]to her so vividly that she cried out aloud, “Oh, Frank! Frank! Dear brother, where are you hiding? Do come to me. Come to sister Nellie. I am not playing now.”The stern lady had followed her servant with his living burden; but when that cry reached her she stopped short, and grasped at the wall for support. What sudden spasm caused the beautiful, haughty face to grow instantly pale, and the tall form to bend trembling down as if struck with palsy?“Oh, Frank, come to sister Nellie. Dear brother, come.”With a wild, hysterical sob the stately figure bowed lower yet, and pressed her arms upon her throbbing bosom as if each of the little outcast’s words had been cruel dagger-thrusts that were piercing her through and through.Coldness, pride, the vigorous will, that moulds martyrs and devils alike, was strong within the woman, yet the combination of all three had no power against that weak out-cry—“Come to sister Nellie, Frank!”Ere the low, faint wail had died out, the proud lady had snatched the poor child to her bosom, and covering the hot, unwashed face with passionate kisses, cried aloud,—“I—I had a darling Nellie once, and a golden-haired[237]boy also, whom we called Frank, but they were buds that faded here to bloom in heaven. And now their dear voices will never fall upon my ears again. Alas! Alas!”Then like all else she had seen in this place, it seemed to the child that the face of the beautiful lady was not altogether strange to her. The very caress was like the endearing embrace of a mother, whose heart had longed and yearned for her lost ones, and the poor little outcast wondered how it all could be, until she lost all consciousness and began to dream again.[Contents]CHAPTER II.It was a long and troubled dream. Days and weeks appeared to pass away in which the little sleeper could remember nothing clearly. At one time the beautiful lady would appear to be bending fondly over her, and then the face would change suddenly to that of a wretched hag, whom she had known and called mother, in the miserable home she had within the slums of the city. From this place came terrible voices in her ears, and terrible things struggling round the bed. Flames of fire darted and danced in her poor, weary eyes; but through all this she beheld the fairy of the[238]cavern appear again, holding in his hand the wreath whereon was written her name. He held it towards her gleaming with diamond tear-drops. How she struggled to reach it! The more she tried the weaker she became, but it seemed to her that there was an invisible arm round her for her to rest upon, and though faint and weary, her failing footsteps ever got nearer and nearer the precious circlet. Then followed an interval of soft, soothing quiet, and the eyes of our heroine opened drowsily upon the waking world again. She felt very weak, but somehow very happy. She was lying on a clean, white bed in a comfortable room, which appeared as if she had seen it before somewhere in her dreams. As the child raised her weary eyelids her gaze rested upon the prostrate form of the lady kneeling by her bedside, with her face hidden in the bedclothes, sobbing. The poor wanderer felt sorry that one who had been so kind to her should weep in trouble, and raising her little warm hand, she laid it on the beautiful head of the kneeler, and uttered the familiar word, “Mamma.”The little sufferer knew not why that tender word rose to her lips before any other; she only knew that the affectionate term was in her heart and mind—that was all.[239]At the sound the grand lady raised her head, and kissed the child again and again with maternal fondness, her lips murmuring the while, “My own darling child. My Nellie, whom I thought had departed from me for ever. Heaven has been good to me.”Then for the first time the little match vendor shed tears of joy. Sleep came to her again, from which she was aroused by the sound of voices talking in whispers close to the bed.“I am so sorry to have disobeyed you, ma’am, but you must forgive me, and let me stay and nurse my own little pet,” cried a girl’s voice in pleading accents. “When they told me at home that the stolen child had come home again to you, I couldn’t keep away. I know it’s all along of my carelessness that she was took away. Yet I loved the deary and was compelled to come, although you must hate the very sight of me.”“Hush, nurse, hush!” replied the lady’s voice sadly. “I am so glad you have come. Since I lost my Nellie, and Frank died, and my dear husband perished at sea, I have been a friendless, lonely, and unhappy woman. Now my lost darling has been restored to me again the world will not seem so bleak and weary. You shall stay and help me nurse my stolen baby into health again.”[240]It seemed very strange to the child, as she lay back in the bed, to learn the early history of her own life; how she had been stolen away when she was only a wee toddler; how her brother, just one year older than herself, had pined and died for his sister; how the poor mother, with all her grand and fashionable friends, had felt herself deserted, and had hardened her heart against all good influences, until the cry of the frightened little outcast had reached and softened it.There were long, weary watchings by the couch of the sufferer, filled with anxiety and suspense. For the mother who had found her lost one had a vague dread haunting her that her darling might be snatched ruthlessly from her a second time, and by a foe more terrible than a kidnapper. The child’s sleep was filled with dreams of angels. They carried her again and again to that rocky chamber where hung the garlands; and each time she found her own all ablaze with tears of joy, and nearly finished.On one occasion she stretched forth her hand to take it, but the fairy came up to her and said,—“Not yet, my dear; you shall wear it very soon.”The child related these dreams to her mother, who answered nothing, but fell down upon her[241]knees and prayed that the garland should not be completed yet awhile.Nellie could not understand all this, but one night she felt very weak and cold. Her mother was seated by the bedside gazing with greedy eyes at the poor, worn, pinched-up little face. There were others in the room, but the patient now saw only her mother.“Dear mamma!”“What is it, my darling?”“I have seen the garlands again. Mine is finished at last.”The face of the lady grew very pale. She hid her weeping eyes and muttered,—“A little while longer, only a little while.”“I know what the garland meansnow, mamma; I am going to die,”“Oh no! my dear, long lost pet, not yet, not yet. I cannot spare you, now you have come back to me. Stay with me a little while—just a little while. You are so very dear to me.”Who shall say what agony of supplication in that low wail of entreaty? Who shall fathom its intensity?“But you will come too, mamma?” said the weak voice, now grown very weak and feeble. “You have cried so much, your garland must be nearly ready.”[242]A great sob, which shook the tall, shapely figure like a reed, was the only answer. She raised her head at length, and the eyes of mother and child met.“Oh, when I get there, I’ll prepare your garland, mamma,” came the faint voice, almost in a whisper now.For a moment there was a wild light in the poor mother’s eyes. The words appeared to stir some old memory in her heart. She looked into the peaceful face of her dying child, and the voice became more calm and steady.“It is very hard to part, my darling, very hard; but I will try to bear it all, so that tears of joy may mingle with tears of sorrow in my wreath of immortality.”The words fell on an ear that heard them not. There was a look on the child’s face that caused the mother to rush forward and throw her arms about the poor weak clay, as if to stay the departing spirit in its flight.“Oh, mamma! there is little brother Frank with my garland. See! he is beckoning to me.”And then the weary little head fell forward on the mother’s shoulder, and the tired spirit entered into rest.[243]

[Contents]CHAPTER I.Rain, rain—nothing but rain on this Christmas Eve, in the New South Wales metropolis. Although it was in the heat of summer the wind from the coast blew keenly through the almost deserted streets, and caused the fine mist-like wet to penetrate the stoutest overcoat. It was such weather that no one who had a roof over his head would care to be out in. But there was one wearily toiling from street to street, beneath the protection of the verandahs—a delicate-looking girl. With one hand she was trying to wrap her scanty rags round her wasted body, and in the other she held a half-dozen boxes of wax matches. Her face was worn, and pinched, and dirty, but it was a very beautiful, patient, little face; her hair, too, would have been a bright golden in natural hue, save that it was shaggy and dirty also. It was to little purpose that she offered her matches[229]to the passers-by, who were few and far between on this wet evening—they were all too anxious to get home out of the rain. From the brightly lighted streets the little wanderer crossed Hyde Park, and wended her way slowly up Oxford Street, and from thence to the left, along the Bay Road, where dwell the wealthy and the great. Why she had left the shops and all the busy part of the city for the wide, bleak road, dotted with high, massive houses standing out dark and cold in the falling rain, the poor child could not tell. Impelled by some strange fascination, she had quitted her usual haunts, and taken the opposite direction leading from her wretched home. Although it was getting late, and past the time when she should have returned, she had no thought of going home. Her memory was full of faint, indistinct thoughts, whether dreams or faraway realities, who shall say? She wondered why she had rambled so far from the city; but she also felt she must go on. Her ragged dress was soaked with rain and the keen wind was cruel and cutting, yet the poor little thing did not feel the rain or the wind; on the contrary, she felt as if she was on fire, save now and then there would pass a cold feeling all over her, which caused a shivering fit. The match girl was well aware that she would be[230]beaten when she returned to her wretched dwelling, yet, strange to say, she felt perfectly happy as she wandered farther away from it.Half way up the Bay Road there came over the little waif a feeling of dizziness, accompanied by a feeling of thirst, and again that burning sensation which again changed into a cold shiver, as she stood there. Close at hand there was a friendly porch belonging to a grand mansion, so the child crept into it, out of the wind and rain, and crouched down. No sooner had she done so than all her light-heartedness appeared to leave her, and she burst into tears. It was very strange that directly the little match vendor began to cry she heard a confusion of sounds around her—wild, mocking laughter, and shouts, and stamping of feet, and strange lights were dancing before her eyes. The stones on which she was lying seemed to be heaving and tossing, and she felt very frightened just for a moment, and then she fell fast asleep.These sounds still went on in her slumber, but they gradually got softer and softer, and sweeter and more subdued, until they changed into the most lovely music. And the little outcast thought she was standing in the midst of a very beautiful garden, and somehow it appeared to her that she[231]had known it all a long time ago. The rain and wind and the murky clouds had passed away, and it was glorious, sunny day; the flowers were in full bloom. Voices of birds and insects filled the balmy air, and gay coloured butterflies flitted here and there. While she was standing, wondering that all these strange things should seem so familiar to her, a handsome boy, with golden curls, approached, and exclaimed,—“Oh, dear sister Nellie, come and play. Why did you go away and stay away so long?”The dreamer looked up; she appeared to know the happy face quite well, and she assured him in a voice, that was not like her old thin, weak voice, but soft and clear, which seemed like a voice that had belonged to her a long, long time ago,—“Indeed, I don’t know where I have been, Frank; nor why I went away. Is it a long time since?” she asked timidly.“Such a long time, sister.”“I am here at last, Frank; and I will never go away again. Come, let us play in the garden.” And then she took his hand, and they walked on together amongst the flowers, while the thousand voices round about gave gladsome welcome. All the old miserable life of the beggar child seemed to fade quickly away here, leaving nothing save the[232]feeling that she had always been accustomed to the grand objects by which she found herself surrounded.“Suppose we have a game of hide and seek?” suggested Frank.“That will be very nice; but who shall hide first?”They had a little consultation about that very important matter, when it was decided that Nellie should hide first. It was most peculiar that the nameNelliecame quite natural to the dreamer, though she had been called Maggie, Meg, and sometimes Peggy as long as she could remember.So Nellie went to hide, and she hid behind a rosebush, and there she found a great hole in the ground big enough for her to creep into. Ere she had settled herself, Nellie found that the hole led to a dark passage, with a soft light glimmering at the end of it. Still wondering, she went towards the light. Passing along through several archways, the child emerged into a splendid cavern, lit up with many coloured, sparkling lights from thousands of precious stones, with which the sides and roof of the place were studded. While she was standing awe-struck with amazement at this magnificent place, she heard by her side a flutter of light wings, and turning, saw hovering[233]over her a beautiful little creature with long hair, which glittered like woven sunbeams. The form was rose-hued in colour, and from its shoulders sprang green wings, sheeny and lustrous as the throat of a humming-bird.“THE LOVELY BEING TOOK NELLIE BY THE HAND.”“THE LOVELY BEING TOOK NELLIE BY THE HAND.”“Come!” warbled the being, and the voice was dreamy and sweet, like the “coo” of a stock dove. “Come, and I will show you something wonderful.”And the lovely being took Nellie by the hand, and led the child through a cleft in the rock to[234]another room which was lined, roof, walls, and floor, with soft green moss. All round the room were hung beautiful garlands adorned with diamonds. Some fairly blazed again with gems, others contained only a few, fixed here and there, while fairy-like forms flitted to and fro continually, bearing in their hands more gems, which they fixed into the garlands. The dreamer was very much surprised at what she beheld.“Where do they get all those diamonds to put into the garlands?” she inquired of her companion.“The diamonds,” answered her conductor, “are the tears of sorrow shed by the unhappy people in the world; for always while they are weeping there are unseen watchers ready waiting to receive their tears and convey them here.”“And what are those very large gems, that shine so brightly in the middle of the finished garlands?”“Those are tears of joy; no garland can be finished withoutthem.”The child wandered round the chamber, and saw that almost all the wreaths had some tears of joy and some of sorrow; but she came at last to one that was quite full of tears of sorrow and in it no tears of joy at all, while on it was a name, “Peggy the Beggar.”[235]Scarcely had her eyes fallen upon the name than she awoke; awoke, and beheld bending over her a lady with a lovely face; but she looked proud and stern, and the little wanderer instinctively shrank away from her and crouched closer to the wall.“How very tiresome that this wretched child should choose my porch, of all places, to creep into for shelter,” cried the lady, in a cold, unfeeling tone. “Yet I cannot turn the unfortunate thing away on such a night as this. It’s a poor Christmas indeed for the poor child,” she added, in a more tender way. “Here, Smith, take up this little beggar and carry her to the kitchen, give her something to eat, and tell Jane to put some dry things on her.”A tall servant came forward and lifted the ragged bundle of humanity in his arms as tenderly as a mother would have done. The man had just such another little girl at home, and his heart yearned with sympathy for the outcast as he bore her along the great hall of the house. Certainly the place was strange to the child; but as in her dream she seemed to remember everything, so now it appeared to her that the objects upon which she gazed had been familiar to her a long, long time ago, and her dream came back[236]to her so vividly that she cried out aloud, “Oh, Frank! Frank! Dear brother, where are you hiding? Do come to me. Come to sister Nellie. I am not playing now.”The stern lady had followed her servant with his living burden; but when that cry reached her she stopped short, and grasped at the wall for support. What sudden spasm caused the beautiful, haughty face to grow instantly pale, and the tall form to bend trembling down as if struck with palsy?“Oh, Frank, come to sister Nellie. Dear brother, come.”With a wild, hysterical sob the stately figure bowed lower yet, and pressed her arms upon her throbbing bosom as if each of the little outcast’s words had been cruel dagger-thrusts that were piercing her through and through.Coldness, pride, the vigorous will, that moulds martyrs and devils alike, was strong within the woman, yet the combination of all three had no power against that weak out-cry—“Come to sister Nellie, Frank!”Ere the low, faint wail had died out, the proud lady had snatched the poor child to her bosom, and covering the hot, unwashed face with passionate kisses, cried aloud,—“I—I had a darling Nellie once, and a golden-haired[237]boy also, whom we called Frank, but they were buds that faded here to bloom in heaven. And now their dear voices will never fall upon my ears again. Alas! Alas!”Then like all else she had seen in this place, it seemed to the child that the face of the beautiful lady was not altogether strange to her. The very caress was like the endearing embrace of a mother, whose heart had longed and yearned for her lost ones, and the poor little outcast wondered how it all could be, until she lost all consciousness and began to dream again.

CHAPTER I.

Rain, rain—nothing but rain on this Christmas Eve, in the New South Wales metropolis. Although it was in the heat of summer the wind from the coast blew keenly through the almost deserted streets, and caused the fine mist-like wet to penetrate the stoutest overcoat. It was such weather that no one who had a roof over his head would care to be out in. But there was one wearily toiling from street to street, beneath the protection of the verandahs—a delicate-looking girl. With one hand she was trying to wrap her scanty rags round her wasted body, and in the other she held a half-dozen boxes of wax matches. Her face was worn, and pinched, and dirty, but it was a very beautiful, patient, little face; her hair, too, would have been a bright golden in natural hue, save that it was shaggy and dirty also. It was to little purpose that she offered her matches[229]to the passers-by, who were few and far between on this wet evening—they were all too anxious to get home out of the rain. From the brightly lighted streets the little wanderer crossed Hyde Park, and wended her way slowly up Oxford Street, and from thence to the left, along the Bay Road, where dwell the wealthy and the great. Why she had left the shops and all the busy part of the city for the wide, bleak road, dotted with high, massive houses standing out dark and cold in the falling rain, the poor child could not tell. Impelled by some strange fascination, she had quitted her usual haunts, and taken the opposite direction leading from her wretched home. Although it was getting late, and past the time when she should have returned, she had no thought of going home. Her memory was full of faint, indistinct thoughts, whether dreams or faraway realities, who shall say? She wondered why she had rambled so far from the city; but she also felt she must go on. Her ragged dress was soaked with rain and the keen wind was cruel and cutting, yet the poor little thing did not feel the rain or the wind; on the contrary, she felt as if she was on fire, save now and then there would pass a cold feeling all over her, which caused a shivering fit. The match girl was well aware that she would be[230]beaten when she returned to her wretched dwelling, yet, strange to say, she felt perfectly happy as she wandered farther away from it.Half way up the Bay Road there came over the little waif a feeling of dizziness, accompanied by a feeling of thirst, and again that burning sensation which again changed into a cold shiver, as she stood there. Close at hand there was a friendly porch belonging to a grand mansion, so the child crept into it, out of the wind and rain, and crouched down. No sooner had she done so than all her light-heartedness appeared to leave her, and she burst into tears. It was very strange that directly the little match vendor began to cry she heard a confusion of sounds around her—wild, mocking laughter, and shouts, and stamping of feet, and strange lights were dancing before her eyes. The stones on which she was lying seemed to be heaving and tossing, and she felt very frightened just for a moment, and then she fell fast asleep.These sounds still went on in her slumber, but they gradually got softer and softer, and sweeter and more subdued, until they changed into the most lovely music. And the little outcast thought she was standing in the midst of a very beautiful garden, and somehow it appeared to her that she[231]had known it all a long time ago. The rain and wind and the murky clouds had passed away, and it was glorious, sunny day; the flowers were in full bloom. Voices of birds and insects filled the balmy air, and gay coloured butterflies flitted here and there. While she was standing, wondering that all these strange things should seem so familiar to her, a handsome boy, with golden curls, approached, and exclaimed,—“Oh, dear sister Nellie, come and play. Why did you go away and stay away so long?”The dreamer looked up; she appeared to know the happy face quite well, and she assured him in a voice, that was not like her old thin, weak voice, but soft and clear, which seemed like a voice that had belonged to her a long, long time ago,—“Indeed, I don’t know where I have been, Frank; nor why I went away. Is it a long time since?” she asked timidly.“Such a long time, sister.”“I am here at last, Frank; and I will never go away again. Come, let us play in the garden.” And then she took his hand, and they walked on together amongst the flowers, while the thousand voices round about gave gladsome welcome. All the old miserable life of the beggar child seemed to fade quickly away here, leaving nothing save the[232]feeling that she had always been accustomed to the grand objects by which she found herself surrounded.“Suppose we have a game of hide and seek?” suggested Frank.“That will be very nice; but who shall hide first?”They had a little consultation about that very important matter, when it was decided that Nellie should hide first. It was most peculiar that the nameNelliecame quite natural to the dreamer, though she had been called Maggie, Meg, and sometimes Peggy as long as she could remember.So Nellie went to hide, and she hid behind a rosebush, and there she found a great hole in the ground big enough for her to creep into. Ere she had settled herself, Nellie found that the hole led to a dark passage, with a soft light glimmering at the end of it. Still wondering, she went towards the light. Passing along through several archways, the child emerged into a splendid cavern, lit up with many coloured, sparkling lights from thousands of precious stones, with which the sides and roof of the place were studded. While she was standing awe-struck with amazement at this magnificent place, she heard by her side a flutter of light wings, and turning, saw hovering[233]over her a beautiful little creature with long hair, which glittered like woven sunbeams. The form was rose-hued in colour, and from its shoulders sprang green wings, sheeny and lustrous as the throat of a humming-bird.“THE LOVELY BEING TOOK NELLIE BY THE HAND.”“THE LOVELY BEING TOOK NELLIE BY THE HAND.”“Come!” warbled the being, and the voice was dreamy and sweet, like the “coo” of a stock dove. “Come, and I will show you something wonderful.”And the lovely being took Nellie by the hand, and led the child through a cleft in the rock to[234]another room which was lined, roof, walls, and floor, with soft green moss. All round the room were hung beautiful garlands adorned with diamonds. Some fairly blazed again with gems, others contained only a few, fixed here and there, while fairy-like forms flitted to and fro continually, bearing in their hands more gems, which they fixed into the garlands. The dreamer was very much surprised at what she beheld.“Where do they get all those diamonds to put into the garlands?” she inquired of her companion.“The diamonds,” answered her conductor, “are the tears of sorrow shed by the unhappy people in the world; for always while they are weeping there are unseen watchers ready waiting to receive their tears and convey them here.”“And what are those very large gems, that shine so brightly in the middle of the finished garlands?”“Those are tears of joy; no garland can be finished withoutthem.”The child wandered round the chamber, and saw that almost all the wreaths had some tears of joy and some of sorrow; but she came at last to one that was quite full of tears of sorrow and in it no tears of joy at all, while on it was a name, “Peggy the Beggar.”[235]Scarcely had her eyes fallen upon the name than she awoke; awoke, and beheld bending over her a lady with a lovely face; but she looked proud and stern, and the little wanderer instinctively shrank away from her and crouched closer to the wall.“How very tiresome that this wretched child should choose my porch, of all places, to creep into for shelter,” cried the lady, in a cold, unfeeling tone. “Yet I cannot turn the unfortunate thing away on such a night as this. It’s a poor Christmas indeed for the poor child,” she added, in a more tender way. “Here, Smith, take up this little beggar and carry her to the kitchen, give her something to eat, and tell Jane to put some dry things on her.”A tall servant came forward and lifted the ragged bundle of humanity in his arms as tenderly as a mother would have done. The man had just such another little girl at home, and his heart yearned with sympathy for the outcast as he bore her along the great hall of the house. Certainly the place was strange to the child; but as in her dream she seemed to remember everything, so now it appeared to her that the objects upon which she gazed had been familiar to her a long, long time ago, and her dream came back[236]to her so vividly that she cried out aloud, “Oh, Frank! Frank! Dear brother, where are you hiding? Do come to me. Come to sister Nellie. I am not playing now.”The stern lady had followed her servant with his living burden; but when that cry reached her she stopped short, and grasped at the wall for support. What sudden spasm caused the beautiful, haughty face to grow instantly pale, and the tall form to bend trembling down as if struck with palsy?“Oh, Frank, come to sister Nellie. Dear brother, come.”With a wild, hysterical sob the stately figure bowed lower yet, and pressed her arms upon her throbbing bosom as if each of the little outcast’s words had been cruel dagger-thrusts that were piercing her through and through.Coldness, pride, the vigorous will, that moulds martyrs and devils alike, was strong within the woman, yet the combination of all three had no power against that weak out-cry—“Come to sister Nellie, Frank!”Ere the low, faint wail had died out, the proud lady had snatched the poor child to her bosom, and covering the hot, unwashed face with passionate kisses, cried aloud,—“I—I had a darling Nellie once, and a golden-haired[237]boy also, whom we called Frank, but they were buds that faded here to bloom in heaven. And now their dear voices will never fall upon my ears again. Alas! Alas!”Then like all else she had seen in this place, it seemed to the child that the face of the beautiful lady was not altogether strange to her. The very caress was like the endearing embrace of a mother, whose heart had longed and yearned for her lost ones, and the poor little outcast wondered how it all could be, until she lost all consciousness and began to dream again.

Rain, rain—nothing but rain on this Christmas Eve, in the New South Wales metropolis. Although it was in the heat of summer the wind from the coast blew keenly through the almost deserted streets, and caused the fine mist-like wet to penetrate the stoutest overcoat. It was such weather that no one who had a roof over his head would care to be out in. But there was one wearily toiling from street to street, beneath the protection of the verandahs—a delicate-looking girl. With one hand she was trying to wrap her scanty rags round her wasted body, and in the other she held a half-dozen boxes of wax matches. Her face was worn, and pinched, and dirty, but it was a very beautiful, patient, little face; her hair, too, would have been a bright golden in natural hue, save that it was shaggy and dirty also. It was to little purpose that she offered her matches[229]to the passers-by, who were few and far between on this wet evening—they were all too anxious to get home out of the rain. From the brightly lighted streets the little wanderer crossed Hyde Park, and wended her way slowly up Oxford Street, and from thence to the left, along the Bay Road, where dwell the wealthy and the great. Why she had left the shops and all the busy part of the city for the wide, bleak road, dotted with high, massive houses standing out dark and cold in the falling rain, the poor child could not tell. Impelled by some strange fascination, she had quitted her usual haunts, and taken the opposite direction leading from her wretched home. Although it was getting late, and past the time when she should have returned, she had no thought of going home. Her memory was full of faint, indistinct thoughts, whether dreams or faraway realities, who shall say? She wondered why she had rambled so far from the city; but she also felt she must go on. Her ragged dress was soaked with rain and the keen wind was cruel and cutting, yet the poor little thing did not feel the rain or the wind; on the contrary, she felt as if she was on fire, save now and then there would pass a cold feeling all over her, which caused a shivering fit. The match girl was well aware that she would be[230]beaten when she returned to her wretched dwelling, yet, strange to say, she felt perfectly happy as she wandered farther away from it.

Half way up the Bay Road there came over the little waif a feeling of dizziness, accompanied by a feeling of thirst, and again that burning sensation which again changed into a cold shiver, as she stood there. Close at hand there was a friendly porch belonging to a grand mansion, so the child crept into it, out of the wind and rain, and crouched down. No sooner had she done so than all her light-heartedness appeared to leave her, and she burst into tears. It was very strange that directly the little match vendor began to cry she heard a confusion of sounds around her—wild, mocking laughter, and shouts, and stamping of feet, and strange lights were dancing before her eyes. The stones on which she was lying seemed to be heaving and tossing, and she felt very frightened just for a moment, and then she fell fast asleep.

These sounds still went on in her slumber, but they gradually got softer and softer, and sweeter and more subdued, until they changed into the most lovely music. And the little outcast thought she was standing in the midst of a very beautiful garden, and somehow it appeared to her that she[231]had known it all a long time ago. The rain and wind and the murky clouds had passed away, and it was glorious, sunny day; the flowers were in full bloom. Voices of birds and insects filled the balmy air, and gay coloured butterflies flitted here and there. While she was standing, wondering that all these strange things should seem so familiar to her, a handsome boy, with golden curls, approached, and exclaimed,—

“Oh, dear sister Nellie, come and play. Why did you go away and stay away so long?”

The dreamer looked up; she appeared to know the happy face quite well, and she assured him in a voice, that was not like her old thin, weak voice, but soft and clear, which seemed like a voice that had belonged to her a long, long time ago,—

“Indeed, I don’t know where I have been, Frank; nor why I went away. Is it a long time since?” she asked timidly.

“Such a long time, sister.”

“I am here at last, Frank; and I will never go away again. Come, let us play in the garden.” And then she took his hand, and they walked on together amongst the flowers, while the thousand voices round about gave gladsome welcome. All the old miserable life of the beggar child seemed to fade quickly away here, leaving nothing save the[232]feeling that she had always been accustomed to the grand objects by which she found herself surrounded.

“Suppose we have a game of hide and seek?” suggested Frank.

“That will be very nice; but who shall hide first?”

They had a little consultation about that very important matter, when it was decided that Nellie should hide first. It was most peculiar that the nameNelliecame quite natural to the dreamer, though she had been called Maggie, Meg, and sometimes Peggy as long as she could remember.

So Nellie went to hide, and she hid behind a rosebush, and there she found a great hole in the ground big enough for her to creep into. Ere she had settled herself, Nellie found that the hole led to a dark passage, with a soft light glimmering at the end of it. Still wondering, she went towards the light. Passing along through several archways, the child emerged into a splendid cavern, lit up with many coloured, sparkling lights from thousands of precious stones, with which the sides and roof of the place were studded. While she was standing awe-struck with amazement at this magnificent place, she heard by her side a flutter of light wings, and turning, saw hovering[233]over her a beautiful little creature with long hair, which glittered like woven sunbeams. The form was rose-hued in colour, and from its shoulders sprang green wings, sheeny and lustrous as the throat of a humming-bird.

“THE LOVELY BEING TOOK NELLIE BY THE HAND.”“THE LOVELY BEING TOOK NELLIE BY THE HAND.”

“THE LOVELY BEING TOOK NELLIE BY THE HAND.”

“Come!” warbled the being, and the voice was dreamy and sweet, like the “coo” of a stock dove. “Come, and I will show you something wonderful.”

And the lovely being took Nellie by the hand, and led the child through a cleft in the rock to[234]another room which was lined, roof, walls, and floor, with soft green moss. All round the room were hung beautiful garlands adorned with diamonds. Some fairly blazed again with gems, others contained only a few, fixed here and there, while fairy-like forms flitted to and fro continually, bearing in their hands more gems, which they fixed into the garlands. The dreamer was very much surprised at what she beheld.

“Where do they get all those diamonds to put into the garlands?” she inquired of her companion.

“The diamonds,” answered her conductor, “are the tears of sorrow shed by the unhappy people in the world; for always while they are weeping there are unseen watchers ready waiting to receive their tears and convey them here.”

“And what are those very large gems, that shine so brightly in the middle of the finished garlands?”

“Those are tears of joy; no garland can be finished withoutthem.”

The child wandered round the chamber, and saw that almost all the wreaths had some tears of joy and some of sorrow; but she came at last to one that was quite full of tears of sorrow and in it no tears of joy at all, while on it was a name, “Peggy the Beggar.”[235]

Scarcely had her eyes fallen upon the name than she awoke; awoke, and beheld bending over her a lady with a lovely face; but she looked proud and stern, and the little wanderer instinctively shrank away from her and crouched closer to the wall.

“How very tiresome that this wretched child should choose my porch, of all places, to creep into for shelter,” cried the lady, in a cold, unfeeling tone. “Yet I cannot turn the unfortunate thing away on such a night as this. It’s a poor Christmas indeed for the poor child,” she added, in a more tender way. “Here, Smith, take up this little beggar and carry her to the kitchen, give her something to eat, and tell Jane to put some dry things on her.”

A tall servant came forward and lifted the ragged bundle of humanity in his arms as tenderly as a mother would have done. The man had just such another little girl at home, and his heart yearned with sympathy for the outcast as he bore her along the great hall of the house. Certainly the place was strange to the child; but as in her dream she seemed to remember everything, so now it appeared to her that the objects upon which she gazed had been familiar to her a long, long time ago, and her dream came back[236]to her so vividly that she cried out aloud, “Oh, Frank! Frank! Dear brother, where are you hiding? Do come to me. Come to sister Nellie. I am not playing now.”

The stern lady had followed her servant with his living burden; but when that cry reached her she stopped short, and grasped at the wall for support. What sudden spasm caused the beautiful, haughty face to grow instantly pale, and the tall form to bend trembling down as if struck with palsy?

“Oh, Frank, come to sister Nellie. Dear brother, come.”

With a wild, hysterical sob the stately figure bowed lower yet, and pressed her arms upon her throbbing bosom as if each of the little outcast’s words had been cruel dagger-thrusts that were piercing her through and through.

Coldness, pride, the vigorous will, that moulds martyrs and devils alike, was strong within the woman, yet the combination of all three had no power against that weak out-cry—“Come to sister Nellie, Frank!”

Ere the low, faint wail had died out, the proud lady had snatched the poor child to her bosom, and covering the hot, unwashed face with passionate kisses, cried aloud,—

“I—I had a darling Nellie once, and a golden-haired[237]boy also, whom we called Frank, but they were buds that faded here to bloom in heaven. And now their dear voices will never fall upon my ears again. Alas! Alas!”

Then like all else she had seen in this place, it seemed to the child that the face of the beautiful lady was not altogether strange to her. The very caress was like the endearing embrace of a mother, whose heart had longed and yearned for her lost ones, and the poor little outcast wondered how it all could be, until she lost all consciousness and began to dream again.

[Contents]CHAPTER II.It was a long and troubled dream. Days and weeks appeared to pass away in which the little sleeper could remember nothing clearly. At one time the beautiful lady would appear to be bending fondly over her, and then the face would change suddenly to that of a wretched hag, whom she had known and called mother, in the miserable home she had within the slums of the city. From this place came terrible voices in her ears, and terrible things struggling round the bed. Flames of fire darted and danced in her poor, weary eyes; but through all this she beheld the fairy of the[238]cavern appear again, holding in his hand the wreath whereon was written her name. He held it towards her gleaming with diamond tear-drops. How she struggled to reach it! The more she tried the weaker she became, but it seemed to her that there was an invisible arm round her for her to rest upon, and though faint and weary, her failing footsteps ever got nearer and nearer the precious circlet. Then followed an interval of soft, soothing quiet, and the eyes of our heroine opened drowsily upon the waking world again. She felt very weak, but somehow very happy. She was lying on a clean, white bed in a comfortable room, which appeared as if she had seen it before somewhere in her dreams. As the child raised her weary eyelids her gaze rested upon the prostrate form of the lady kneeling by her bedside, with her face hidden in the bedclothes, sobbing. The poor wanderer felt sorry that one who had been so kind to her should weep in trouble, and raising her little warm hand, she laid it on the beautiful head of the kneeler, and uttered the familiar word, “Mamma.”The little sufferer knew not why that tender word rose to her lips before any other; she only knew that the affectionate term was in her heart and mind—that was all.[239]At the sound the grand lady raised her head, and kissed the child again and again with maternal fondness, her lips murmuring the while, “My own darling child. My Nellie, whom I thought had departed from me for ever. Heaven has been good to me.”Then for the first time the little match vendor shed tears of joy. Sleep came to her again, from which she was aroused by the sound of voices talking in whispers close to the bed.“I am so sorry to have disobeyed you, ma’am, but you must forgive me, and let me stay and nurse my own little pet,” cried a girl’s voice in pleading accents. “When they told me at home that the stolen child had come home again to you, I couldn’t keep away. I know it’s all along of my carelessness that she was took away. Yet I loved the deary and was compelled to come, although you must hate the very sight of me.”“Hush, nurse, hush!” replied the lady’s voice sadly. “I am so glad you have come. Since I lost my Nellie, and Frank died, and my dear husband perished at sea, I have been a friendless, lonely, and unhappy woman. Now my lost darling has been restored to me again the world will not seem so bleak and weary. You shall stay and help me nurse my stolen baby into health again.”[240]It seemed very strange to the child, as she lay back in the bed, to learn the early history of her own life; how she had been stolen away when she was only a wee toddler; how her brother, just one year older than herself, had pined and died for his sister; how the poor mother, with all her grand and fashionable friends, had felt herself deserted, and had hardened her heart against all good influences, until the cry of the frightened little outcast had reached and softened it.There were long, weary watchings by the couch of the sufferer, filled with anxiety and suspense. For the mother who had found her lost one had a vague dread haunting her that her darling might be snatched ruthlessly from her a second time, and by a foe more terrible than a kidnapper. The child’s sleep was filled with dreams of angels. They carried her again and again to that rocky chamber where hung the garlands; and each time she found her own all ablaze with tears of joy, and nearly finished.On one occasion she stretched forth her hand to take it, but the fairy came up to her and said,—“Not yet, my dear; you shall wear it very soon.”The child related these dreams to her mother, who answered nothing, but fell down upon her[241]knees and prayed that the garland should not be completed yet awhile.Nellie could not understand all this, but one night she felt very weak and cold. Her mother was seated by the bedside gazing with greedy eyes at the poor, worn, pinched-up little face. There were others in the room, but the patient now saw only her mother.“Dear mamma!”“What is it, my darling?”“I have seen the garlands again. Mine is finished at last.”The face of the lady grew very pale. She hid her weeping eyes and muttered,—“A little while longer, only a little while.”“I know what the garland meansnow, mamma; I am going to die,”“Oh no! my dear, long lost pet, not yet, not yet. I cannot spare you, now you have come back to me. Stay with me a little while—just a little while. You are so very dear to me.”Who shall say what agony of supplication in that low wail of entreaty? Who shall fathom its intensity?“But you will come too, mamma?” said the weak voice, now grown very weak and feeble. “You have cried so much, your garland must be nearly ready.”[242]A great sob, which shook the tall, shapely figure like a reed, was the only answer. She raised her head at length, and the eyes of mother and child met.“Oh, when I get there, I’ll prepare your garland, mamma,” came the faint voice, almost in a whisper now.For a moment there was a wild light in the poor mother’s eyes. The words appeared to stir some old memory in her heart. She looked into the peaceful face of her dying child, and the voice became more calm and steady.“It is very hard to part, my darling, very hard; but I will try to bear it all, so that tears of joy may mingle with tears of sorrow in my wreath of immortality.”The words fell on an ear that heard them not. There was a look on the child’s face that caused the mother to rush forward and throw her arms about the poor weak clay, as if to stay the departing spirit in its flight.“Oh, mamma! there is little brother Frank with my garland. See! he is beckoning to me.”And then the weary little head fell forward on the mother’s shoulder, and the tired spirit entered into rest.[243]

CHAPTER II.

It was a long and troubled dream. Days and weeks appeared to pass away in which the little sleeper could remember nothing clearly. At one time the beautiful lady would appear to be bending fondly over her, and then the face would change suddenly to that of a wretched hag, whom she had known and called mother, in the miserable home she had within the slums of the city. From this place came terrible voices in her ears, and terrible things struggling round the bed. Flames of fire darted and danced in her poor, weary eyes; but through all this she beheld the fairy of the[238]cavern appear again, holding in his hand the wreath whereon was written her name. He held it towards her gleaming with diamond tear-drops. How she struggled to reach it! The more she tried the weaker she became, but it seemed to her that there was an invisible arm round her for her to rest upon, and though faint and weary, her failing footsteps ever got nearer and nearer the precious circlet. Then followed an interval of soft, soothing quiet, and the eyes of our heroine opened drowsily upon the waking world again. She felt very weak, but somehow very happy. She was lying on a clean, white bed in a comfortable room, which appeared as if she had seen it before somewhere in her dreams. As the child raised her weary eyelids her gaze rested upon the prostrate form of the lady kneeling by her bedside, with her face hidden in the bedclothes, sobbing. The poor wanderer felt sorry that one who had been so kind to her should weep in trouble, and raising her little warm hand, she laid it on the beautiful head of the kneeler, and uttered the familiar word, “Mamma.”The little sufferer knew not why that tender word rose to her lips before any other; she only knew that the affectionate term was in her heart and mind—that was all.[239]At the sound the grand lady raised her head, and kissed the child again and again with maternal fondness, her lips murmuring the while, “My own darling child. My Nellie, whom I thought had departed from me for ever. Heaven has been good to me.”Then for the first time the little match vendor shed tears of joy. Sleep came to her again, from which she was aroused by the sound of voices talking in whispers close to the bed.“I am so sorry to have disobeyed you, ma’am, but you must forgive me, and let me stay and nurse my own little pet,” cried a girl’s voice in pleading accents. “When they told me at home that the stolen child had come home again to you, I couldn’t keep away. I know it’s all along of my carelessness that she was took away. Yet I loved the deary and was compelled to come, although you must hate the very sight of me.”“Hush, nurse, hush!” replied the lady’s voice sadly. “I am so glad you have come. Since I lost my Nellie, and Frank died, and my dear husband perished at sea, I have been a friendless, lonely, and unhappy woman. Now my lost darling has been restored to me again the world will not seem so bleak and weary. You shall stay and help me nurse my stolen baby into health again.”[240]It seemed very strange to the child, as she lay back in the bed, to learn the early history of her own life; how she had been stolen away when she was only a wee toddler; how her brother, just one year older than herself, had pined and died for his sister; how the poor mother, with all her grand and fashionable friends, had felt herself deserted, and had hardened her heart against all good influences, until the cry of the frightened little outcast had reached and softened it.There were long, weary watchings by the couch of the sufferer, filled with anxiety and suspense. For the mother who had found her lost one had a vague dread haunting her that her darling might be snatched ruthlessly from her a second time, and by a foe more terrible than a kidnapper. The child’s sleep was filled with dreams of angels. They carried her again and again to that rocky chamber where hung the garlands; and each time she found her own all ablaze with tears of joy, and nearly finished.On one occasion she stretched forth her hand to take it, but the fairy came up to her and said,—“Not yet, my dear; you shall wear it very soon.”The child related these dreams to her mother, who answered nothing, but fell down upon her[241]knees and prayed that the garland should not be completed yet awhile.Nellie could not understand all this, but one night she felt very weak and cold. Her mother was seated by the bedside gazing with greedy eyes at the poor, worn, pinched-up little face. There were others in the room, but the patient now saw only her mother.“Dear mamma!”“What is it, my darling?”“I have seen the garlands again. Mine is finished at last.”The face of the lady grew very pale. She hid her weeping eyes and muttered,—“A little while longer, only a little while.”“I know what the garland meansnow, mamma; I am going to die,”“Oh no! my dear, long lost pet, not yet, not yet. I cannot spare you, now you have come back to me. Stay with me a little while—just a little while. You are so very dear to me.”Who shall say what agony of supplication in that low wail of entreaty? Who shall fathom its intensity?“But you will come too, mamma?” said the weak voice, now grown very weak and feeble. “You have cried so much, your garland must be nearly ready.”[242]A great sob, which shook the tall, shapely figure like a reed, was the only answer. She raised her head at length, and the eyes of mother and child met.“Oh, when I get there, I’ll prepare your garland, mamma,” came the faint voice, almost in a whisper now.For a moment there was a wild light in the poor mother’s eyes. The words appeared to stir some old memory in her heart. She looked into the peaceful face of her dying child, and the voice became more calm and steady.“It is very hard to part, my darling, very hard; but I will try to bear it all, so that tears of joy may mingle with tears of sorrow in my wreath of immortality.”The words fell on an ear that heard them not. There was a look on the child’s face that caused the mother to rush forward and throw her arms about the poor weak clay, as if to stay the departing spirit in its flight.“Oh, mamma! there is little brother Frank with my garland. See! he is beckoning to me.”And then the weary little head fell forward on the mother’s shoulder, and the tired spirit entered into rest.[243]

It was a long and troubled dream. Days and weeks appeared to pass away in which the little sleeper could remember nothing clearly. At one time the beautiful lady would appear to be bending fondly over her, and then the face would change suddenly to that of a wretched hag, whom she had known and called mother, in the miserable home she had within the slums of the city. From this place came terrible voices in her ears, and terrible things struggling round the bed. Flames of fire darted and danced in her poor, weary eyes; but through all this she beheld the fairy of the[238]cavern appear again, holding in his hand the wreath whereon was written her name. He held it towards her gleaming with diamond tear-drops. How she struggled to reach it! The more she tried the weaker she became, but it seemed to her that there was an invisible arm round her for her to rest upon, and though faint and weary, her failing footsteps ever got nearer and nearer the precious circlet. Then followed an interval of soft, soothing quiet, and the eyes of our heroine opened drowsily upon the waking world again. She felt very weak, but somehow very happy. She was lying on a clean, white bed in a comfortable room, which appeared as if she had seen it before somewhere in her dreams. As the child raised her weary eyelids her gaze rested upon the prostrate form of the lady kneeling by her bedside, with her face hidden in the bedclothes, sobbing. The poor wanderer felt sorry that one who had been so kind to her should weep in trouble, and raising her little warm hand, she laid it on the beautiful head of the kneeler, and uttered the familiar word, “Mamma.”

The little sufferer knew not why that tender word rose to her lips before any other; she only knew that the affectionate term was in her heart and mind—that was all.[239]

At the sound the grand lady raised her head, and kissed the child again and again with maternal fondness, her lips murmuring the while, “My own darling child. My Nellie, whom I thought had departed from me for ever. Heaven has been good to me.”

Then for the first time the little match vendor shed tears of joy. Sleep came to her again, from which she was aroused by the sound of voices talking in whispers close to the bed.

“I am so sorry to have disobeyed you, ma’am, but you must forgive me, and let me stay and nurse my own little pet,” cried a girl’s voice in pleading accents. “When they told me at home that the stolen child had come home again to you, I couldn’t keep away. I know it’s all along of my carelessness that she was took away. Yet I loved the deary and was compelled to come, although you must hate the very sight of me.”

“Hush, nurse, hush!” replied the lady’s voice sadly. “I am so glad you have come. Since I lost my Nellie, and Frank died, and my dear husband perished at sea, I have been a friendless, lonely, and unhappy woman. Now my lost darling has been restored to me again the world will not seem so bleak and weary. You shall stay and help me nurse my stolen baby into health again.”[240]

It seemed very strange to the child, as she lay back in the bed, to learn the early history of her own life; how she had been stolen away when she was only a wee toddler; how her brother, just one year older than herself, had pined and died for his sister; how the poor mother, with all her grand and fashionable friends, had felt herself deserted, and had hardened her heart against all good influences, until the cry of the frightened little outcast had reached and softened it.

There were long, weary watchings by the couch of the sufferer, filled with anxiety and suspense. For the mother who had found her lost one had a vague dread haunting her that her darling might be snatched ruthlessly from her a second time, and by a foe more terrible than a kidnapper. The child’s sleep was filled with dreams of angels. They carried her again and again to that rocky chamber where hung the garlands; and each time she found her own all ablaze with tears of joy, and nearly finished.

On one occasion she stretched forth her hand to take it, but the fairy came up to her and said,—

“Not yet, my dear; you shall wear it very soon.”

The child related these dreams to her mother, who answered nothing, but fell down upon her[241]knees and prayed that the garland should not be completed yet awhile.

Nellie could not understand all this, but one night she felt very weak and cold. Her mother was seated by the bedside gazing with greedy eyes at the poor, worn, pinched-up little face. There were others in the room, but the patient now saw only her mother.

“Dear mamma!”

“What is it, my darling?”

“I have seen the garlands again. Mine is finished at last.”

The face of the lady grew very pale. She hid her weeping eyes and muttered,—

“A little while longer, only a little while.”

“I know what the garland meansnow, mamma; I am going to die,”

“Oh no! my dear, long lost pet, not yet, not yet. I cannot spare you, now you have come back to me. Stay with me a little while—just a little while. You are so very dear to me.”

Who shall say what agony of supplication in that low wail of entreaty? Who shall fathom its intensity?

“But you will come too, mamma?” said the weak voice, now grown very weak and feeble. “You have cried so much, your garland must be nearly ready.”[242]

A great sob, which shook the tall, shapely figure like a reed, was the only answer. She raised her head at length, and the eyes of mother and child met.

“Oh, when I get there, I’ll prepare your garland, mamma,” came the faint voice, almost in a whisper now.

For a moment there was a wild light in the poor mother’s eyes. The words appeared to stir some old memory in her heart. She looked into the peaceful face of her dying child, and the voice became more calm and steady.

“It is very hard to part, my darling, very hard; but I will try to bear it all, so that tears of joy may mingle with tears of sorrow in my wreath of immortality.”

The words fell on an ear that heard them not. There was a look on the child’s face that caused the mother to rush forward and throw her arms about the poor weak clay, as if to stay the departing spirit in its flight.

“Oh, mamma! there is little brother Frank with my garland. See! he is beckoning to me.”

And then the weary little head fell forward on the mother’s shoulder, and the tired spirit entered into rest.[243]

[Contents]IN THE CLOUDS.They came to the boy one night when he was abed, and said they would take him with them in their fairy balloon.Willie Fenton told his father and mother that he had seen the elfins, and what they had promised him, but they only laughed at him and told him he had been dreaming.Our hero wasn’t to be convinced that it was only a dream. Hadn’t he seen them—three fairy creatures no higher than his top—enter his bedroom through the keyhole, and seat themselves on his pillow, and begin talking about the glorious sights to be seen in the clouds?If Willie Fenton had been born up in a balloon his youthful fancy could not have been imbued with a greater passion for the sport. Indeed, since he was a child of four or five years old our youthful aeronaut had blown soap bubbles, and had watched them soar away in the sun, glistening with all the hues of the rainbow, and his dreams[244]at night and aspirations by day had been to emulate those daring spirits who surpassed the mighty eagle in his flight into the bright blue sky above the clouds.Willie’s home, situated on Mount Pleasant, was in the vicinity of many a romantic spot calculated to favour the elves in their adventure, and one fine morning, as the lad was returning from a neighbouring farm, he espied his three nocturnal visitors seated under a large gum-tree awaiting him. Willie recognised them in a moment, and doffing his cap said, “Good-morning, gentlemen.”The fairies rose and saluted him, and answered that they were quite ready to fulfil their promises. Our hero thanked them for their kindness, and at the same time expressed himself quite ready to accompany them. Whereupon the three elves conducted him in silence along a narrow ravine which opened out on a still, quiet glen on the banks of the river. Fastened securely between two huge trees, Willie beheld a great, pear-shaped thing, swaying to and fro with the motion of the breeze, and at which the elves pointed and said, “Behold, our cloud car.”“IT WAS A GRAND BALLOON.”“IT WAS A GRAND BALLOON.”Yes, it was a grand balloon, already inflated and with a cage attached, bordered with wild roses and creepers, that reached from the apex of the[245]monster down to the car beneath, which hung suspended, like a flower-pot in a balcony. How it surged and struggled desperately with the wind, as if it were endowed with life, and wished to escape from fastenings that held it, and soar upward! And how frail it appeared, as Willie approached and examined it! Was it made of cloth? No, too fine for cloth. Cotton? Nay, it was too soft for cotton, or silk either. Yet the whole fabric seemed no weightier than a gossamer. The fairies smiled at the boy’s curiosity, and invited[246]him to enter the car. Our little hero had no sooner complied than the elfins seated themselves at his side. And one of them, who had a bright diadem glittering upon his breast, stood up and waved his hand as a signal, when instantly the balloon shot aloft with inconceivable velocity.The young mortal closed his eyes and held his breath for one brief moment; but when he looked forth, the earth appeared to be miraculously vanishing from his sight. Although the ascent was fearfully rapid, the motion of the balloon was quite imperceptible. The morning was bright and sunny, the sky a deep, Prussian blue, and as the boy craned his neck over the cage and gazed below, what a glorious sight met his view. There stretched beneath him were the golden valleys of his birthplace, with hundreds of farms dotting the landscape, and no bigger than a child’s toy. From his elevated position the houses were as so many dots, and the people in the fields as tiny ants. The flowing Torrens, that had seemed so broad and deep, appeared as a silver thread, and the high cliffs and hills were on a level with the dull round earth. Willie Fenton felt not the least alarm; on the contrary, his courage rose with the balloon, as it sped upward to the sky. The elfin with the diadem threw out some pieces of paper, which[247]seemed to drop like stones. This, however, was not so, but only the effect of the terrible rate at which they were travelling. Higher, higher, still higher. Now they disappeared from view, in a thick vapour forming the white clouds, which looked so light and fleecy from earth. The balloon did not remain long in these, but quickly rose into a clear atmosphere beyond. And here the scene changed to one splendid in the extreme. Above them nothing but the big round sun, and the deep azure of the heavens. Beneath no dingy earth, dim and gloomy, but a brilliant sea of sparkling cloud, rose tinted, dancing and flashing in the sun’s rays. The cloud completely hid everything below, and lay beneath like a huge, rolling billow, the top of which flashed back the sunlight till our hero almost fancied it was a wave of driven snow spangled with diamonds. How long Willie might have remained in his rapt trance of wonder it is hard to say, but he was aroused by a feeling of cold, and a difficulty in breathing.“Our mortal friend will find it very chilly up here,” said Pippin, who wore the diadem, answering the boy’s unspoken words.“It has grown very cold indeed, gentlemen,” rejoined Willie, his teeth chattering as he spoke.“Ha, ha! Listen to him, Needle; hear him,[248]Bobbin; he’s beginning to cry out already!” cried Pippin to his companions. “Cold, eh? Well, we have a cure for cold, and for frost and snow—whole mountains of it. Eh, Needle?” As Pippin spoke, he unrolled a parcel which had been lying unnoticed at the bottom of the car, and produced a cloak made of the same material as the balloon. Without more ado they enveloped Willie from head to heel in the garment, with just sufficient space left clear about his eyes so that he could see, the rest of him being completely covered. In a few moments he began to breathe more freely, and the rarity of the air made no impression upon him at all.“You feel all right now, Willie Fenton?” questioned Bobbin. Willie mumbled, and nodded his head in the affirmative.“Let us mount higher then, my brethren. Excelsior!” exclaimed Pippin of the diadem. “Bold indeed the mortal who first conceived and carried out the idea of making the unstable element water subservient to his genius, as witness the ships that come and go on the bosom of the ocean; but it is left to us, the elves of Australia, to curb the air and make it do our bidding. Higher and higher go we, to show this mortal the wonders of the upper world.”Upward still, beyond the cloud which breaks[249]for a moment and gives them a glimpse of the sea, and the coast-line away to the westward seeming no broader than a single thread. And now the cold became intense, but the fairies and their companion felt it not, for their gaze was fixed upon a sight that no emperor or king had ever seen—and perchance never would. If all the diamonds in that rich valley visited by Sinbad the Sailor, also all the gems which Aladdin’s lamp could have procured, and all that ever have been seen in the world had been pressed into the service—they would have failed utterly in producing one tithe of the strange sight Willie now saw. The whole dome of the balloon was covered as it were in a diamond mantle. A shower of glittering gems was falling in all directions, apparently coming from the blue void above, and sprinkling down, with a fluttering motion like that of butterflies, and then disappearing in the vast abyss below.Lost in amazement at this marvellous vision, the boy frees one of his hands, and reaches to catch one of the heavenly gems; but he discovers the diamond shower is in reality only thin sheets of newly-formed ice.The elves laugh at him and the look of wonder on his face. And Pippin explains in a grave[250]tone, “Boy, we have entered a region where some watery vapour hath been, which the cold hath turned into ice, and now being heavier than the atmosphere falls fluttering to the earth. Towards the earth, I say, since I know well it will never reach it, because before it can do so it will encounter a warmer region, when the ice will again become water and the water vapour. Do you understand?”“Oh yes. It’s the vapour which makes the clouds, isn’t it?” answered Willie.“Just so,” replied the elfin. “And now having fulfilled our promise, we will descend again to old mother earth.”Like a streak of light the fairy balloon shot downward through the glittering, diamond shower, through the mist and cloud, until the bright landscape appeared in view. The elfins, Pippin, Needle, and Bobbin, landed Willie safely by the river-bank, and the boy reached home just in time for dinner.*   *   *The three elves still haunt that dell by the Torrens, so if any of my readers are anxious for a trip in the fairy balloon, I have no doubt Messrs. Pippin & Co. will be only too glad to oblige them—that is, if they are at home.[251]

IN THE CLOUDS.

They came to the boy one night when he was abed, and said they would take him with them in their fairy balloon.Willie Fenton told his father and mother that he had seen the elfins, and what they had promised him, but they only laughed at him and told him he had been dreaming.Our hero wasn’t to be convinced that it was only a dream. Hadn’t he seen them—three fairy creatures no higher than his top—enter his bedroom through the keyhole, and seat themselves on his pillow, and begin talking about the glorious sights to be seen in the clouds?If Willie Fenton had been born up in a balloon his youthful fancy could not have been imbued with a greater passion for the sport. Indeed, since he was a child of four or five years old our youthful aeronaut had blown soap bubbles, and had watched them soar away in the sun, glistening with all the hues of the rainbow, and his dreams[244]at night and aspirations by day had been to emulate those daring spirits who surpassed the mighty eagle in his flight into the bright blue sky above the clouds.Willie’s home, situated on Mount Pleasant, was in the vicinity of many a romantic spot calculated to favour the elves in their adventure, and one fine morning, as the lad was returning from a neighbouring farm, he espied his three nocturnal visitors seated under a large gum-tree awaiting him. Willie recognised them in a moment, and doffing his cap said, “Good-morning, gentlemen.”The fairies rose and saluted him, and answered that they were quite ready to fulfil their promises. Our hero thanked them for their kindness, and at the same time expressed himself quite ready to accompany them. Whereupon the three elves conducted him in silence along a narrow ravine which opened out on a still, quiet glen on the banks of the river. Fastened securely between two huge trees, Willie beheld a great, pear-shaped thing, swaying to and fro with the motion of the breeze, and at which the elves pointed and said, “Behold, our cloud car.”“IT WAS A GRAND BALLOON.”“IT WAS A GRAND BALLOON.”Yes, it was a grand balloon, already inflated and with a cage attached, bordered with wild roses and creepers, that reached from the apex of the[245]monster down to the car beneath, which hung suspended, like a flower-pot in a balcony. How it surged and struggled desperately with the wind, as if it were endowed with life, and wished to escape from fastenings that held it, and soar upward! And how frail it appeared, as Willie approached and examined it! Was it made of cloth? No, too fine for cloth. Cotton? Nay, it was too soft for cotton, or silk either. Yet the whole fabric seemed no weightier than a gossamer. The fairies smiled at the boy’s curiosity, and invited[246]him to enter the car. Our little hero had no sooner complied than the elfins seated themselves at his side. And one of them, who had a bright diadem glittering upon his breast, stood up and waved his hand as a signal, when instantly the balloon shot aloft with inconceivable velocity.The young mortal closed his eyes and held his breath for one brief moment; but when he looked forth, the earth appeared to be miraculously vanishing from his sight. Although the ascent was fearfully rapid, the motion of the balloon was quite imperceptible. The morning was bright and sunny, the sky a deep, Prussian blue, and as the boy craned his neck over the cage and gazed below, what a glorious sight met his view. There stretched beneath him were the golden valleys of his birthplace, with hundreds of farms dotting the landscape, and no bigger than a child’s toy. From his elevated position the houses were as so many dots, and the people in the fields as tiny ants. The flowing Torrens, that had seemed so broad and deep, appeared as a silver thread, and the high cliffs and hills were on a level with the dull round earth. Willie Fenton felt not the least alarm; on the contrary, his courage rose with the balloon, as it sped upward to the sky. The elfin with the diadem threw out some pieces of paper, which[247]seemed to drop like stones. This, however, was not so, but only the effect of the terrible rate at which they were travelling. Higher, higher, still higher. Now they disappeared from view, in a thick vapour forming the white clouds, which looked so light and fleecy from earth. The balloon did not remain long in these, but quickly rose into a clear atmosphere beyond. And here the scene changed to one splendid in the extreme. Above them nothing but the big round sun, and the deep azure of the heavens. Beneath no dingy earth, dim and gloomy, but a brilliant sea of sparkling cloud, rose tinted, dancing and flashing in the sun’s rays. The cloud completely hid everything below, and lay beneath like a huge, rolling billow, the top of which flashed back the sunlight till our hero almost fancied it was a wave of driven snow spangled with diamonds. How long Willie might have remained in his rapt trance of wonder it is hard to say, but he was aroused by a feeling of cold, and a difficulty in breathing.“Our mortal friend will find it very chilly up here,” said Pippin, who wore the diadem, answering the boy’s unspoken words.“It has grown very cold indeed, gentlemen,” rejoined Willie, his teeth chattering as he spoke.“Ha, ha! Listen to him, Needle; hear him,[248]Bobbin; he’s beginning to cry out already!” cried Pippin to his companions. “Cold, eh? Well, we have a cure for cold, and for frost and snow—whole mountains of it. Eh, Needle?” As Pippin spoke, he unrolled a parcel which had been lying unnoticed at the bottom of the car, and produced a cloak made of the same material as the balloon. Without more ado they enveloped Willie from head to heel in the garment, with just sufficient space left clear about his eyes so that he could see, the rest of him being completely covered. In a few moments he began to breathe more freely, and the rarity of the air made no impression upon him at all.“You feel all right now, Willie Fenton?” questioned Bobbin. Willie mumbled, and nodded his head in the affirmative.“Let us mount higher then, my brethren. Excelsior!” exclaimed Pippin of the diadem. “Bold indeed the mortal who first conceived and carried out the idea of making the unstable element water subservient to his genius, as witness the ships that come and go on the bosom of the ocean; but it is left to us, the elves of Australia, to curb the air and make it do our bidding. Higher and higher go we, to show this mortal the wonders of the upper world.”Upward still, beyond the cloud which breaks[249]for a moment and gives them a glimpse of the sea, and the coast-line away to the westward seeming no broader than a single thread. And now the cold became intense, but the fairies and their companion felt it not, for their gaze was fixed upon a sight that no emperor or king had ever seen—and perchance never would. If all the diamonds in that rich valley visited by Sinbad the Sailor, also all the gems which Aladdin’s lamp could have procured, and all that ever have been seen in the world had been pressed into the service—they would have failed utterly in producing one tithe of the strange sight Willie now saw. The whole dome of the balloon was covered as it were in a diamond mantle. A shower of glittering gems was falling in all directions, apparently coming from the blue void above, and sprinkling down, with a fluttering motion like that of butterflies, and then disappearing in the vast abyss below.Lost in amazement at this marvellous vision, the boy frees one of his hands, and reaches to catch one of the heavenly gems; but he discovers the diamond shower is in reality only thin sheets of newly-formed ice.The elves laugh at him and the look of wonder on his face. And Pippin explains in a grave[250]tone, “Boy, we have entered a region where some watery vapour hath been, which the cold hath turned into ice, and now being heavier than the atmosphere falls fluttering to the earth. Towards the earth, I say, since I know well it will never reach it, because before it can do so it will encounter a warmer region, when the ice will again become water and the water vapour. Do you understand?”“Oh yes. It’s the vapour which makes the clouds, isn’t it?” answered Willie.“Just so,” replied the elfin. “And now having fulfilled our promise, we will descend again to old mother earth.”Like a streak of light the fairy balloon shot downward through the glittering, diamond shower, through the mist and cloud, until the bright landscape appeared in view. The elfins, Pippin, Needle, and Bobbin, landed Willie safely by the river-bank, and the boy reached home just in time for dinner.*   *   *The three elves still haunt that dell by the Torrens, so if any of my readers are anxious for a trip in the fairy balloon, I have no doubt Messrs. Pippin & Co. will be only too glad to oblige them—that is, if they are at home.[251]

They came to the boy one night when he was abed, and said they would take him with them in their fairy balloon.

Willie Fenton told his father and mother that he had seen the elfins, and what they had promised him, but they only laughed at him and told him he had been dreaming.

Our hero wasn’t to be convinced that it was only a dream. Hadn’t he seen them—three fairy creatures no higher than his top—enter his bedroom through the keyhole, and seat themselves on his pillow, and begin talking about the glorious sights to be seen in the clouds?

If Willie Fenton had been born up in a balloon his youthful fancy could not have been imbued with a greater passion for the sport. Indeed, since he was a child of four or five years old our youthful aeronaut had blown soap bubbles, and had watched them soar away in the sun, glistening with all the hues of the rainbow, and his dreams[244]at night and aspirations by day had been to emulate those daring spirits who surpassed the mighty eagle in his flight into the bright blue sky above the clouds.

Willie’s home, situated on Mount Pleasant, was in the vicinity of many a romantic spot calculated to favour the elves in their adventure, and one fine morning, as the lad was returning from a neighbouring farm, he espied his three nocturnal visitors seated under a large gum-tree awaiting him. Willie recognised them in a moment, and doffing his cap said, “Good-morning, gentlemen.”

The fairies rose and saluted him, and answered that they were quite ready to fulfil their promises. Our hero thanked them for their kindness, and at the same time expressed himself quite ready to accompany them. Whereupon the three elves conducted him in silence along a narrow ravine which opened out on a still, quiet glen on the banks of the river. Fastened securely between two huge trees, Willie beheld a great, pear-shaped thing, swaying to and fro with the motion of the breeze, and at which the elves pointed and said, “Behold, our cloud car.”

“IT WAS A GRAND BALLOON.”“IT WAS A GRAND BALLOON.”

“IT WAS A GRAND BALLOON.”

Yes, it was a grand balloon, already inflated and with a cage attached, bordered with wild roses and creepers, that reached from the apex of the[245]monster down to the car beneath, which hung suspended, like a flower-pot in a balcony. How it surged and struggled desperately with the wind, as if it were endowed with life, and wished to escape from fastenings that held it, and soar upward! And how frail it appeared, as Willie approached and examined it! Was it made of cloth? No, too fine for cloth. Cotton? Nay, it was too soft for cotton, or silk either. Yet the whole fabric seemed no weightier than a gossamer. The fairies smiled at the boy’s curiosity, and invited[246]him to enter the car. Our little hero had no sooner complied than the elfins seated themselves at his side. And one of them, who had a bright diadem glittering upon his breast, stood up and waved his hand as a signal, when instantly the balloon shot aloft with inconceivable velocity.

The young mortal closed his eyes and held his breath for one brief moment; but when he looked forth, the earth appeared to be miraculously vanishing from his sight. Although the ascent was fearfully rapid, the motion of the balloon was quite imperceptible. The morning was bright and sunny, the sky a deep, Prussian blue, and as the boy craned his neck over the cage and gazed below, what a glorious sight met his view. There stretched beneath him were the golden valleys of his birthplace, with hundreds of farms dotting the landscape, and no bigger than a child’s toy. From his elevated position the houses were as so many dots, and the people in the fields as tiny ants. The flowing Torrens, that had seemed so broad and deep, appeared as a silver thread, and the high cliffs and hills were on a level with the dull round earth. Willie Fenton felt not the least alarm; on the contrary, his courage rose with the balloon, as it sped upward to the sky. The elfin with the diadem threw out some pieces of paper, which[247]seemed to drop like stones. This, however, was not so, but only the effect of the terrible rate at which they were travelling. Higher, higher, still higher. Now they disappeared from view, in a thick vapour forming the white clouds, which looked so light and fleecy from earth. The balloon did not remain long in these, but quickly rose into a clear atmosphere beyond. And here the scene changed to one splendid in the extreme. Above them nothing but the big round sun, and the deep azure of the heavens. Beneath no dingy earth, dim and gloomy, but a brilliant sea of sparkling cloud, rose tinted, dancing and flashing in the sun’s rays. The cloud completely hid everything below, and lay beneath like a huge, rolling billow, the top of which flashed back the sunlight till our hero almost fancied it was a wave of driven snow spangled with diamonds. How long Willie might have remained in his rapt trance of wonder it is hard to say, but he was aroused by a feeling of cold, and a difficulty in breathing.

“Our mortal friend will find it very chilly up here,” said Pippin, who wore the diadem, answering the boy’s unspoken words.

“It has grown very cold indeed, gentlemen,” rejoined Willie, his teeth chattering as he spoke.

“Ha, ha! Listen to him, Needle; hear him,[248]Bobbin; he’s beginning to cry out already!” cried Pippin to his companions. “Cold, eh? Well, we have a cure for cold, and for frost and snow—whole mountains of it. Eh, Needle?” As Pippin spoke, he unrolled a parcel which had been lying unnoticed at the bottom of the car, and produced a cloak made of the same material as the balloon. Without more ado they enveloped Willie from head to heel in the garment, with just sufficient space left clear about his eyes so that he could see, the rest of him being completely covered. In a few moments he began to breathe more freely, and the rarity of the air made no impression upon him at all.

“You feel all right now, Willie Fenton?” questioned Bobbin. Willie mumbled, and nodded his head in the affirmative.

“Let us mount higher then, my brethren. Excelsior!” exclaimed Pippin of the diadem. “Bold indeed the mortal who first conceived and carried out the idea of making the unstable element water subservient to his genius, as witness the ships that come and go on the bosom of the ocean; but it is left to us, the elves of Australia, to curb the air and make it do our bidding. Higher and higher go we, to show this mortal the wonders of the upper world.”

Upward still, beyond the cloud which breaks[249]for a moment and gives them a glimpse of the sea, and the coast-line away to the westward seeming no broader than a single thread. And now the cold became intense, but the fairies and their companion felt it not, for their gaze was fixed upon a sight that no emperor or king had ever seen—and perchance never would. If all the diamonds in that rich valley visited by Sinbad the Sailor, also all the gems which Aladdin’s lamp could have procured, and all that ever have been seen in the world had been pressed into the service—they would have failed utterly in producing one tithe of the strange sight Willie now saw. The whole dome of the balloon was covered as it were in a diamond mantle. A shower of glittering gems was falling in all directions, apparently coming from the blue void above, and sprinkling down, with a fluttering motion like that of butterflies, and then disappearing in the vast abyss below.

Lost in amazement at this marvellous vision, the boy frees one of his hands, and reaches to catch one of the heavenly gems; but he discovers the diamond shower is in reality only thin sheets of newly-formed ice.

The elves laugh at him and the look of wonder on his face. And Pippin explains in a grave[250]tone, “Boy, we have entered a region where some watery vapour hath been, which the cold hath turned into ice, and now being heavier than the atmosphere falls fluttering to the earth. Towards the earth, I say, since I know well it will never reach it, because before it can do so it will encounter a warmer region, when the ice will again become water and the water vapour. Do you understand?”

“Oh yes. It’s the vapour which makes the clouds, isn’t it?” answered Willie.

“Just so,” replied the elfin. “And now having fulfilled our promise, we will descend again to old mother earth.”

Like a streak of light the fairy balloon shot downward through the glittering, diamond shower, through the mist and cloud, until the bright landscape appeared in view. The elfins, Pippin, Needle, and Bobbin, landed Willie safely by the river-bank, and the boy reached home just in time for dinner.

*   *   *

The three elves still haunt that dell by the Torrens, so if any of my readers are anxious for a trip in the fairy balloon, I have no doubt Messrs. Pippin & Co. will be only too glad to oblige them—that is, if they are at home.[251]

[Contents]WONDERLAND.Mount with me, my little friends, upon the wings of fancy. Don’t be alarmed—the conveyance is perfectly safe, and warranted free from accidents. Hi, Presto! Here we stand upon the famous Blue Mountains of our neighbour, whose glens, dells, and deep ravines are haunted by creatures beautiful beyond conception, and grotesque, and stranger than any painter dreamed of. Yonder, on the mountain-side, the western train is seen puffing its way along the gigantic “zigzag,” like a huge serpent, and whose hot breath takes weird shapes before it is lost in the blue haze above it. Beneath, on that natural terrace of rock, stands the humble hut of the charcoal-burner, whose single window overlooks a deep valley of monster trees—fallen and half-buried amongst great blocks of stone and rank vegetation.But who is that woman who is wringing her hands, and calling and weeping by turns, as she runs to and fro among the chaos of undergrowth[252]and the ledges around? It is the wife of the charcoal-burner, and she calls for her two children, who have wandered away and become lost in this wild region. It was early morn when they strolled forth to play—Edith and Winnie, both little toddlers, and quite helpless—yet the sun is on the rim of the horizon and they cannot be found.“Coo-ee, coo-ee!—Winnie—Edie, my darlings, where are you? Oh, where are you?” cries the poor mother; and her voice grows faint and weary as she calls to the echoing cliffs about. She becomes aware that some one is answering her as she is about to retrace her steps to the hut. The voice is far off at first, but it becomes gradually nearer and nearer, until a rough mountain goat with long horns presents itself before her.“I am here. What do you want with me?” it said, bowing itself before her.It was a beautiful animal, with a soft, white, silky fleece, and large, kind-looking eyes, while its voice sounded so full of sympathy that the suffering mother answered readily,—“Oh, sir! I have lost my two children; pray tell me, have you seen them?”“I have seen them,” answered the goat. “And if you have sufficient courage to follow my advice[253]they shall soon be restored to you. I am the guardian sprite of this glen, which my race have occupied since the Flood. Here on this mountain are two kingdoms; the one on the surface calledLove; the other, beneath the surface, termedHate. We are ever at war with each other; therefore, I am here to serve you. Learn, O mortal, that Croak and Gloom, of the lower world, have stolen your children, and they have hid them within the bowels of the mountains.”“Then they are dead, and I shall never see them more,” replied the woman, falling on her knees and weeping bitterly.“I have said they shall be restored to you again,” replied the goat quickly. “My power is far mightier than the whole nation of Hate combined. Have you faith that I can help you?”“Yes,” she answered, “becauseLoveis stronger thanHate.”“Good. Extend your hand and pluck a tuft of hair from my right side, roll it in your fingers, then twist it round your finger above your wedding-ring.”The charcoal-burner’s wife did as the goat desired her, but she had scarcely finished before the animal vanished from her sight, and she felt herself bodily lifted up, and borne away over the deep ravine,[254]and across over-hanging cliffs and the tops of tall trees, and away down into a yawning chasm, which seemed like a deep and bottomless well. Down, down, she went swiftly, yet with an easy, sliding motion that was not at all unpleasant, while she felt no fear, save for the fate of her little ones. She had a feeling of a powerful presence being near and about her—extending from the finger on which was twisted the goat’s hair round and round her person, and beneath her feet, like the strong net-work of a balloon. Even when the void grew dim and black, a strange glow, emanating from the ring, lit up the darkness and revealed to her wondering eyes many earth-bound treasures. Here gleamed thick seams of coal, and there slabs of tin and copper ores, and beyond these shone white masses of stone, like marble, with thick veins of gold therein, which sparkled athwart the woman’s eyes, and made her almost forget her children, so great became her desire to possess some of it While she cogitated she suddenly became conscious that she was upon her feet, standing before a large cavern gate, guarded by a tall griffin, who cried out the moment he espied her, “Who dare enter into the realm of Hate?”And the woman answered quickly, “Love. Love[255]dares everything, because, being pure, it is fearless. I have come to demand my children.”“THE MONSTER ... ADVANCED WITH A LARGE STONE.”“THE MONSTER … ADVANCED WITH A LARGE STONE.”The monster laughed at her, and advanced with a large stone to dash out her brains; but the white goat, transformed now into a handsome youth, with a sharp, gleaming sword in his hand, advanced boldly to the rescue, and soon defeated the grim warder, took his keys without more ado, and opening several doors, led his companion through a labyrinth of caves until they reached a second gate guarded like the first, the warder having the[256]body of an ass and the head of a wolf. “Who knocks at the gates of Hate?” he said fiercely.“Love,” answered the valiant fairy, waving his sword.“Love isn’t wanted here,” replied the monster. “Begone! Or I will kill you both.” Whereupon he opened the gate and advanced towards them; but the elfin engaged him at once, and so great was his power that he overturned the creature in a moment.“Now, Malice, I have thee,” cried the brave sprite sternly. “Yield up thy keys and get thee hence, and hide thyself, together with Envy, at the outer gate, for if I find you here on my return I will slay you both.”Malice gave up his keys and ran howling along the rocky caverns of the place; while Love, the elfin, led the woman onward through a catacomb of dismal vapour, which ended in a series of arched chambers, draped and festooned with sheets of solid gold. The horrid creatures who inhabited the place were hideous and frightful to behold. Some had two heads, others were without legs or arms; many crawled like snakes, and not a few presented the appearance of being half man and half beast. These monsters fled in all directions at the sight of Love, and so he passed onward[257]unmolested until he came to Cavernous Hall—the palace of Croak and Gloom—and here he found the two great chiefs of Hate with the children, Winnie and Edith. The hall was filled with the rank and fashion of the nation to see the wonderful mortals of the upper world; and into their midst walked Love and the woman hand-in-hand.“Who are these strange people?” cried the terrible voice of Gloom, grasping the little ones in his arms, for they had uttered a glad cry at sight of their mother.“My children! Oh, give me my children!” pleaded the woman.“Mortal, how came you here?” inquired the grim Croak.“It was I who guided her hither,” answered the elfin.“Then thou shalt die,” exclaimed the vast throng, as with one voice.“Not all your hosts of this dim region nor your power can destroy me. Dash me to pieces against the rugged walls of your palace, burn me to ashes, and scatter them to the vapours, still I shall rise up stronger, in some other form to give you battle. Give the woman her little ones.”“Beware! Let the race of this mortal give us back our stolen treasures. They have invaded[258]our domain, and have rifled it of some of its richest treasures. Through soil and rock and granite they have delved down, down into this under world, until we could hear the ring of their tools. And we have seen them change our dim regions into a wilderness.”While Croak uttered these words the elfin glided swiftly forward, seized the children, and placing them safely in the mother’s arms, cried hurriedly, “Begone; run to the outer gate, and my power shall bear you company and carry you swiftly to the upper air. Quick!”And the woman, pressing her babes tightly to her throbbing bosom, fled away, and rising through the mists which obscure the lower world, regained the hut on the cliff; while Love battled with the legions of Hate, and battles with them still—ay! and will battle with them to the end of time.[259]

WONDERLAND.

Mount with me, my little friends, upon the wings of fancy. Don’t be alarmed—the conveyance is perfectly safe, and warranted free from accidents. Hi, Presto! Here we stand upon the famous Blue Mountains of our neighbour, whose glens, dells, and deep ravines are haunted by creatures beautiful beyond conception, and grotesque, and stranger than any painter dreamed of. Yonder, on the mountain-side, the western train is seen puffing its way along the gigantic “zigzag,” like a huge serpent, and whose hot breath takes weird shapes before it is lost in the blue haze above it. Beneath, on that natural terrace of rock, stands the humble hut of the charcoal-burner, whose single window overlooks a deep valley of monster trees—fallen and half-buried amongst great blocks of stone and rank vegetation.But who is that woman who is wringing her hands, and calling and weeping by turns, as she runs to and fro among the chaos of undergrowth[252]and the ledges around? It is the wife of the charcoal-burner, and she calls for her two children, who have wandered away and become lost in this wild region. It was early morn when they strolled forth to play—Edith and Winnie, both little toddlers, and quite helpless—yet the sun is on the rim of the horizon and they cannot be found.“Coo-ee, coo-ee!—Winnie—Edie, my darlings, where are you? Oh, where are you?” cries the poor mother; and her voice grows faint and weary as she calls to the echoing cliffs about. She becomes aware that some one is answering her as she is about to retrace her steps to the hut. The voice is far off at first, but it becomes gradually nearer and nearer, until a rough mountain goat with long horns presents itself before her.“I am here. What do you want with me?” it said, bowing itself before her.It was a beautiful animal, with a soft, white, silky fleece, and large, kind-looking eyes, while its voice sounded so full of sympathy that the suffering mother answered readily,—“Oh, sir! I have lost my two children; pray tell me, have you seen them?”“I have seen them,” answered the goat. “And if you have sufficient courage to follow my advice[253]they shall soon be restored to you. I am the guardian sprite of this glen, which my race have occupied since the Flood. Here on this mountain are two kingdoms; the one on the surface calledLove; the other, beneath the surface, termedHate. We are ever at war with each other; therefore, I am here to serve you. Learn, O mortal, that Croak and Gloom, of the lower world, have stolen your children, and they have hid them within the bowels of the mountains.”“Then they are dead, and I shall never see them more,” replied the woman, falling on her knees and weeping bitterly.“I have said they shall be restored to you again,” replied the goat quickly. “My power is far mightier than the whole nation of Hate combined. Have you faith that I can help you?”“Yes,” she answered, “becauseLoveis stronger thanHate.”“Good. Extend your hand and pluck a tuft of hair from my right side, roll it in your fingers, then twist it round your finger above your wedding-ring.”The charcoal-burner’s wife did as the goat desired her, but she had scarcely finished before the animal vanished from her sight, and she felt herself bodily lifted up, and borne away over the deep ravine,[254]and across over-hanging cliffs and the tops of tall trees, and away down into a yawning chasm, which seemed like a deep and bottomless well. Down, down, she went swiftly, yet with an easy, sliding motion that was not at all unpleasant, while she felt no fear, save for the fate of her little ones. She had a feeling of a powerful presence being near and about her—extending from the finger on which was twisted the goat’s hair round and round her person, and beneath her feet, like the strong net-work of a balloon. Even when the void grew dim and black, a strange glow, emanating from the ring, lit up the darkness and revealed to her wondering eyes many earth-bound treasures. Here gleamed thick seams of coal, and there slabs of tin and copper ores, and beyond these shone white masses of stone, like marble, with thick veins of gold therein, which sparkled athwart the woman’s eyes, and made her almost forget her children, so great became her desire to possess some of it While she cogitated she suddenly became conscious that she was upon her feet, standing before a large cavern gate, guarded by a tall griffin, who cried out the moment he espied her, “Who dare enter into the realm of Hate?”And the woman answered quickly, “Love. Love[255]dares everything, because, being pure, it is fearless. I have come to demand my children.”“THE MONSTER ... ADVANCED WITH A LARGE STONE.”“THE MONSTER … ADVANCED WITH A LARGE STONE.”The monster laughed at her, and advanced with a large stone to dash out her brains; but the white goat, transformed now into a handsome youth, with a sharp, gleaming sword in his hand, advanced boldly to the rescue, and soon defeated the grim warder, took his keys without more ado, and opening several doors, led his companion through a labyrinth of caves until they reached a second gate guarded like the first, the warder having the[256]body of an ass and the head of a wolf. “Who knocks at the gates of Hate?” he said fiercely.“Love,” answered the valiant fairy, waving his sword.“Love isn’t wanted here,” replied the monster. “Begone! Or I will kill you both.” Whereupon he opened the gate and advanced towards them; but the elfin engaged him at once, and so great was his power that he overturned the creature in a moment.“Now, Malice, I have thee,” cried the brave sprite sternly. “Yield up thy keys and get thee hence, and hide thyself, together with Envy, at the outer gate, for if I find you here on my return I will slay you both.”Malice gave up his keys and ran howling along the rocky caverns of the place; while Love, the elfin, led the woman onward through a catacomb of dismal vapour, which ended in a series of arched chambers, draped and festooned with sheets of solid gold. The horrid creatures who inhabited the place were hideous and frightful to behold. Some had two heads, others were without legs or arms; many crawled like snakes, and not a few presented the appearance of being half man and half beast. These monsters fled in all directions at the sight of Love, and so he passed onward[257]unmolested until he came to Cavernous Hall—the palace of Croak and Gloom—and here he found the two great chiefs of Hate with the children, Winnie and Edith. The hall was filled with the rank and fashion of the nation to see the wonderful mortals of the upper world; and into their midst walked Love and the woman hand-in-hand.“Who are these strange people?” cried the terrible voice of Gloom, grasping the little ones in his arms, for they had uttered a glad cry at sight of their mother.“My children! Oh, give me my children!” pleaded the woman.“Mortal, how came you here?” inquired the grim Croak.“It was I who guided her hither,” answered the elfin.“Then thou shalt die,” exclaimed the vast throng, as with one voice.“Not all your hosts of this dim region nor your power can destroy me. Dash me to pieces against the rugged walls of your palace, burn me to ashes, and scatter them to the vapours, still I shall rise up stronger, in some other form to give you battle. Give the woman her little ones.”“Beware! Let the race of this mortal give us back our stolen treasures. They have invaded[258]our domain, and have rifled it of some of its richest treasures. Through soil and rock and granite they have delved down, down into this under world, until we could hear the ring of their tools. And we have seen them change our dim regions into a wilderness.”While Croak uttered these words the elfin glided swiftly forward, seized the children, and placing them safely in the mother’s arms, cried hurriedly, “Begone; run to the outer gate, and my power shall bear you company and carry you swiftly to the upper air. Quick!”And the woman, pressing her babes tightly to her throbbing bosom, fled away, and rising through the mists which obscure the lower world, regained the hut on the cliff; while Love battled with the legions of Hate, and battles with them still—ay! and will battle with them to the end of time.[259]

Mount with me, my little friends, upon the wings of fancy. Don’t be alarmed—the conveyance is perfectly safe, and warranted free from accidents. Hi, Presto! Here we stand upon the famous Blue Mountains of our neighbour, whose glens, dells, and deep ravines are haunted by creatures beautiful beyond conception, and grotesque, and stranger than any painter dreamed of. Yonder, on the mountain-side, the western train is seen puffing its way along the gigantic “zigzag,” like a huge serpent, and whose hot breath takes weird shapes before it is lost in the blue haze above it. Beneath, on that natural terrace of rock, stands the humble hut of the charcoal-burner, whose single window overlooks a deep valley of monster trees—fallen and half-buried amongst great blocks of stone and rank vegetation.

But who is that woman who is wringing her hands, and calling and weeping by turns, as she runs to and fro among the chaos of undergrowth[252]and the ledges around? It is the wife of the charcoal-burner, and she calls for her two children, who have wandered away and become lost in this wild region. It was early morn when they strolled forth to play—Edith and Winnie, both little toddlers, and quite helpless—yet the sun is on the rim of the horizon and they cannot be found.

“Coo-ee, coo-ee!—Winnie—Edie, my darlings, where are you? Oh, where are you?” cries the poor mother; and her voice grows faint and weary as she calls to the echoing cliffs about. She becomes aware that some one is answering her as she is about to retrace her steps to the hut. The voice is far off at first, but it becomes gradually nearer and nearer, until a rough mountain goat with long horns presents itself before her.

“I am here. What do you want with me?” it said, bowing itself before her.

It was a beautiful animal, with a soft, white, silky fleece, and large, kind-looking eyes, while its voice sounded so full of sympathy that the suffering mother answered readily,—

“Oh, sir! I have lost my two children; pray tell me, have you seen them?”

“I have seen them,” answered the goat. “And if you have sufficient courage to follow my advice[253]they shall soon be restored to you. I am the guardian sprite of this glen, which my race have occupied since the Flood. Here on this mountain are two kingdoms; the one on the surface calledLove; the other, beneath the surface, termedHate. We are ever at war with each other; therefore, I am here to serve you. Learn, O mortal, that Croak and Gloom, of the lower world, have stolen your children, and they have hid them within the bowels of the mountains.”

“Then they are dead, and I shall never see them more,” replied the woman, falling on her knees and weeping bitterly.

“I have said they shall be restored to you again,” replied the goat quickly. “My power is far mightier than the whole nation of Hate combined. Have you faith that I can help you?”

“Yes,” she answered, “becauseLoveis stronger thanHate.”

“Good. Extend your hand and pluck a tuft of hair from my right side, roll it in your fingers, then twist it round your finger above your wedding-ring.”

The charcoal-burner’s wife did as the goat desired her, but she had scarcely finished before the animal vanished from her sight, and she felt herself bodily lifted up, and borne away over the deep ravine,[254]and across over-hanging cliffs and the tops of tall trees, and away down into a yawning chasm, which seemed like a deep and bottomless well. Down, down, she went swiftly, yet with an easy, sliding motion that was not at all unpleasant, while she felt no fear, save for the fate of her little ones. She had a feeling of a powerful presence being near and about her—extending from the finger on which was twisted the goat’s hair round and round her person, and beneath her feet, like the strong net-work of a balloon. Even when the void grew dim and black, a strange glow, emanating from the ring, lit up the darkness and revealed to her wondering eyes many earth-bound treasures. Here gleamed thick seams of coal, and there slabs of tin and copper ores, and beyond these shone white masses of stone, like marble, with thick veins of gold therein, which sparkled athwart the woman’s eyes, and made her almost forget her children, so great became her desire to possess some of it While she cogitated she suddenly became conscious that she was upon her feet, standing before a large cavern gate, guarded by a tall griffin, who cried out the moment he espied her, “Who dare enter into the realm of Hate?”

And the woman answered quickly, “Love. Love[255]dares everything, because, being pure, it is fearless. I have come to demand my children.”

“THE MONSTER ... ADVANCED WITH A LARGE STONE.”“THE MONSTER … ADVANCED WITH A LARGE STONE.”

“THE MONSTER … ADVANCED WITH A LARGE STONE.”

The monster laughed at her, and advanced with a large stone to dash out her brains; but the white goat, transformed now into a handsome youth, with a sharp, gleaming sword in his hand, advanced boldly to the rescue, and soon defeated the grim warder, took his keys without more ado, and opening several doors, led his companion through a labyrinth of caves until they reached a second gate guarded like the first, the warder having the[256]body of an ass and the head of a wolf. “Who knocks at the gates of Hate?” he said fiercely.

“Love,” answered the valiant fairy, waving his sword.

“Love isn’t wanted here,” replied the monster. “Begone! Or I will kill you both.” Whereupon he opened the gate and advanced towards them; but the elfin engaged him at once, and so great was his power that he overturned the creature in a moment.

“Now, Malice, I have thee,” cried the brave sprite sternly. “Yield up thy keys and get thee hence, and hide thyself, together with Envy, at the outer gate, for if I find you here on my return I will slay you both.”

Malice gave up his keys and ran howling along the rocky caverns of the place; while Love, the elfin, led the woman onward through a catacomb of dismal vapour, which ended in a series of arched chambers, draped and festooned with sheets of solid gold. The horrid creatures who inhabited the place were hideous and frightful to behold. Some had two heads, others were without legs or arms; many crawled like snakes, and not a few presented the appearance of being half man and half beast. These monsters fled in all directions at the sight of Love, and so he passed onward[257]unmolested until he came to Cavernous Hall—the palace of Croak and Gloom—and here he found the two great chiefs of Hate with the children, Winnie and Edith. The hall was filled with the rank and fashion of the nation to see the wonderful mortals of the upper world; and into their midst walked Love and the woman hand-in-hand.

“Who are these strange people?” cried the terrible voice of Gloom, grasping the little ones in his arms, for they had uttered a glad cry at sight of their mother.

“My children! Oh, give me my children!” pleaded the woman.

“Mortal, how came you here?” inquired the grim Croak.

“It was I who guided her hither,” answered the elfin.

“Then thou shalt die,” exclaimed the vast throng, as with one voice.

“Not all your hosts of this dim region nor your power can destroy me. Dash me to pieces against the rugged walls of your palace, burn me to ashes, and scatter them to the vapours, still I shall rise up stronger, in some other form to give you battle. Give the woman her little ones.”

“Beware! Let the race of this mortal give us back our stolen treasures. They have invaded[258]our domain, and have rifled it of some of its richest treasures. Through soil and rock and granite they have delved down, down into this under world, until we could hear the ring of their tools. And we have seen them change our dim regions into a wilderness.”

While Croak uttered these words the elfin glided swiftly forward, seized the children, and placing them safely in the mother’s arms, cried hurriedly, “Begone; run to the outer gate, and my power shall bear you company and carry you swiftly to the upper air. Quick!”

And the woman, pressing her babes tightly to her throbbing bosom, fled away, and rising through the mists which obscure the lower world, regained the hut on the cliff; while Love battled with the legions of Hate, and battles with them still—ay! and will battle with them to the end of time.[259]

[Contents]BABY’S VISITORS.Open the window, wide. How serene and peaceful it is out yonder, where the stars gleam and sparkle—some faint and small as a diamond speck, others large, clear, and dazzling, as the eyes of angels gazing through the dim void earthward to that little room where Baby sleeps the sleep of death. It may have been the shadowing of that radiance, attendant on the sinless ones, whom we call angels, which had cast athwart the infant’s features a sheen of glory, and changed them into the seeming of a sleeping cherub, or perchance the immortal glow that shimmered, widening and circling as it fell, was but the forerunner of that celestial band who bridge space andsuffer little children to go untoHim!See the mother kneeling beside her dead babe, her slender frame convulsed with agony. Not a tear, not a sob, that breaks forth for her lost[260]darling but freights its newly awakened soul and holds it backward from the angels. How can it soar while the kindred spirit below wails its absence, and every moan shouts, trumpet tongued, “Come back! Come back!”“It was my world,” she says, “my whole world, and it has gone from me like a vision. Alas! Common things live on; earth’s mighty heart still throbs! Creation lifts its voice in sea and air, and in the world’s great mart. Music, life, and motion are everywhere, save in my babe.”Alas! for thee, fond mother, whose vision mounts no higher than the baby’s cot. Alas! for thee!Frail, yet beautiful, were the creatures who entered at the open window. Softly as kindly thoughts that gathered round the infant sleeper in wonder, and laid a ring of flowers about it, until they formed a rosy cradle. And then, as the sighing wind or those more delicate strains heard in dreams, the voices of the elfins rose upon the stillness of the night like silver bells.Solemn was their chant, and weird and fanciful, which anon changed to lighter vein and measure. The mourner heard the sounds, and wondered as the cadence rose and fell upon her grief-dulled ears, but the singers were invisible to her.[261]“Nurslings of the summer airBuzz, buzz, here, there.So we! quaint and gay,Antic gambol,Gnome and Fay.“Whispering to the smiling moon,Trill, trill, ‘Come soon.’So we! quaint and gay,Antic gambol,Gnome and Fay.“As the breezes come and go.Hum, hum. Just so.So we! quaint and gay,Antic gambol,Gnome and Fay.”As a single drop of water contains things with life and being, which cannot be seen with the naked eye, so in space dwell the creatures of the imagination, both wise and beautiful, being full of love and sympathy for mankind and goodwill towards women and young children. Show me a selfish, disobedient boy, or a naughty girl, who ever saw a fairy. You can’t. I defy you to produce one. But many a bright youth and pretty maiden, who love truth and obedience better than play or lollies, can testify that the lovely persons who came to them in dreams were the same who now stood round the cradle of the dead baby.How these wee people had loved it, and had[262]kept watch and ward over it, ever since they had espied it in its basket cradle downstairs! Fresh from the mysterious star-world, of which they knew nothing, they had marvelled at it, and had crowed and cooed and sung to it, until it had begun to know them, and answer after its fashion, and laugh, and shake its fat, dimpled fists and crow too.How they had watched it when it slept, and filled its tiny brain with innocent visions pure as the setting sun! How they had caused their magic to mantle its slumber, and the little rosebud mouth to open out in smiles! How silent and still now! No smile parts the pale lips. Not all the witchcraft in Fairyland, nor all the songs sung by sprite or fay to fretful babyhood, can lift but even one slender hair from those drooping eyelids which shroud the dim, blue eyes.“Baby’s dead,” said one, and “Dead, dead, dead,” repeated all the elfin circle.“Let us bear it hence unto the open glade. The bright beams of the morning sun will bring back its look of gladness, and we shall hear its voice again.”“Ay, bear it hence,” replied the chorus.Cradled in the wild flowers they had spread around it, the elfins carried off their silent burden, and laid it gently within a scented grove, and as the glorious morn broke forth to life and gladness,[263]the birds gathered together in the fairy haunt and sang a requiem.Up rose the sun and filled the dell with golden splendour. Its shining beams spread through the foliage in amber-coloured radiance, and played about the fair head of the dead baby until the creatures around shrank back in awe at the sight; but the sun brought no light to its eyes, nor smile to its lips. And so they carried the infant back again within its little room, and departed wondering.Oh, weeping mother, whose bitter tears have drenched thy baby’s winding sheet, had’st thou faith even as a grain of mustard seed in theMaster, thou couldst see above thee, beyond that cold, dead clay, the forms of angels bearing thy little one to eternal rest.Oh, ye parents, shall I preach to you, as well as to your children? Ye who, when your daily task is done, sit brooding o’er the loss of some fondly remembered child, now sleeping its long sleep in death, take heart if ye have loved it; then it is not dead, but lives again within you. Love cannot die, for it is as immortal as the soul. Like Jacob’s ladder, it is the broad pathway from Paradise to earth, by which our little ones come back to us in visions and in dreams to give us assurance of the tender care of God.[264]

BABY’S VISITORS.

Open the window, wide. How serene and peaceful it is out yonder, where the stars gleam and sparkle—some faint and small as a diamond speck, others large, clear, and dazzling, as the eyes of angels gazing through the dim void earthward to that little room where Baby sleeps the sleep of death. It may have been the shadowing of that radiance, attendant on the sinless ones, whom we call angels, which had cast athwart the infant’s features a sheen of glory, and changed them into the seeming of a sleeping cherub, or perchance the immortal glow that shimmered, widening and circling as it fell, was but the forerunner of that celestial band who bridge space andsuffer little children to go untoHim!See the mother kneeling beside her dead babe, her slender frame convulsed with agony. Not a tear, not a sob, that breaks forth for her lost[260]darling but freights its newly awakened soul and holds it backward from the angels. How can it soar while the kindred spirit below wails its absence, and every moan shouts, trumpet tongued, “Come back! Come back!”“It was my world,” she says, “my whole world, and it has gone from me like a vision. Alas! Common things live on; earth’s mighty heart still throbs! Creation lifts its voice in sea and air, and in the world’s great mart. Music, life, and motion are everywhere, save in my babe.”Alas! for thee, fond mother, whose vision mounts no higher than the baby’s cot. Alas! for thee!Frail, yet beautiful, were the creatures who entered at the open window. Softly as kindly thoughts that gathered round the infant sleeper in wonder, and laid a ring of flowers about it, until they formed a rosy cradle. And then, as the sighing wind or those more delicate strains heard in dreams, the voices of the elfins rose upon the stillness of the night like silver bells.Solemn was their chant, and weird and fanciful, which anon changed to lighter vein and measure. The mourner heard the sounds, and wondered as the cadence rose and fell upon her grief-dulled ears, but the singers were invisible to her.[261]“Nurslings of the summer airBuzz, buzz, here, there.So we! quaint and gay,Antic gambol,Gnome and Fay.“Whispering to the smiling moon,Trill, trill, ‘Come soon.’So we! quaint and gay,Antic gambol,Gnome and Fay.“As the breezes come and go.Hum, hum. Just so.So we! quaint and gay,Antic gambol,Gnome and Fay.”As a single drop of water contains things with life and being, which cannot be seen with the naked eye, so in space dwell the creatures of the imagination, both wise and beautiful, being full of love and sympathy for mankind and goodwill towards women and young children. Show me a selfish, disobedient boy, or a naughty girl, who ever saw a fairy. You can’t. I defy you to produce one. But many a bright youth and pretty maiden, who love truth and obedience better than play or lollies, can testify that the lovely persons who came to them in dreams were the same who now stood round the cradle of the dead baby.How these wee people had loved it, and had[262]kept watch and ward over it, ever since they had espied it in its basket cradle downstairs! Fresh from the mysterious star-world, of which they knew nothing, they had marvelled at it, and had crowed and cooed and sung to it, until it had begun to know them, and answer after its fashion, and laugh, and shake its fat, dimpled fists and crow too.How they had watched it when it slept, and filled its tiny brain with innocent visions pure as the setting sun! How they had caused their magic to mantle its slumber, and the little rosebud mouth to open out in smiles! How silent and still now! No smile parts the pale lips. Not all the witchcraft in Fairyland, nor all the songs sung by sprite or fay to fretful babyhood, can lift but even one slender hair from those drooping eyelids which shroud the dim, blue eyes.“Baby’s dead,” said one, and “Dead, dead, dead,” repeated all the elfin circle.“Let us bear it hence unto the open glade. The bright beams of the morning sun will bring back its look of gladness, and we shall hear its voice again.”“Ay, bear it hence,” replied the chorus.Cradled in the wild flowers they had spread around it, the elfins carried off their silent burden, and laid it gently within a scented grove, and as the glorious morn broke forth to life and gladness,[263]the birds gathered together in the fairy haunt and sang a requiem.Up rose the sun and filled the dell with golden splendour. Its shining beams spread through the foliage in amber-coloured radiance, and played about the fair head of the dead baby until the creatures around shrank back in awe at the sight; but the sun brought no light to its eyes, nor smile to its lips. And so they carried the infant back again within its little room, and departed wondering.Oh, weeping mother, whose bitter tears have drenched thy baby’s winding sheet, had’st thou faith even as a grain of mustard seed in theMaster, thou couldst see above thee, beyond that cold, dead clay, the forms of angels bearing thy little one to eternal rest.Oh, ye parents, shall I preach to you, as well as to your children? Ye who, when your daily task is done, sit brooding o’er the loss of some fondly remembered child, now sleeping its long sleep in death, take heart if ye have loved it; then it is not dead, but lives again within you. Love cannot die, for it is as immortal as the soul. Like Jacob’s ladder, it is the broad pathway from Paradise to earth, by which our little ones come back to us in visions and in dreams to give us assurance of the tender care of God.[264]

Open the window, wide. How serene and peaceful it is out yonder, where the stars gleam and sparkle—some faint and small as a diamond speck, others large, clear, and dazzling, as the eyes of angels gazing through the dim void earthward to that little room where Baby sleeps the sleep of death. It may have been the shadowing of that radiance, attendant on the sinless ones, whom we call angels, which had cast athwart the infant’s features a sheen of glory, and changed them into the seeming of a sleeping cherub, or perchance the immortal glow that shimmered, widening and circling as it fell, was but the forerunner of that celestial band who bridge space andsuffer little children to go untoHim!

See the mother kneeling beside her dead babe, her slender frame convulsed with agony. Not a tear, not a sob, that breaks forth for her lost[260]darling but freights its newly awakened soul and holds it backward from the angels. How can it soar while the kindred spirit below wails its absence, and every moan shouts, trumpet tongued, “Come back! Come back!”

“It was my world,” she says, “my whole world, and it has gone from me like a vision. Alas! Common things live on; earth’s mighty heart still throbs! Creation lifts its voice in sea and air, and in the world’s great mart. Music, life, and motion are everywhere, save in my babe.”

Alas! for thee, fond mother, whose vision mounts no higher than the baby’s cot. Alas! for thee!

Frail, yet beautiful, were the creatures who entered at the open window. Softly as kindly thoughts that gathered round the infant sleeper in wonder, and laid a ring of flowers about it, until they formed a rosy cradle. And then, as the sighing wind or those more delicate strains heard in dreams, the voices of the elfins rose upon the stillness of the night like silver bells.

Solemn was their chant, and weird and fanciful, which anon changed to lighter vein and measure. The mourner heard the sounds, and wondered as the cadence rose and fell upon her grief-dulled ears, but the singers were invisible to her.[261]

“Nurslings of the summer airBuzz, buzz, here, there.So we! quaint and gay,Antic gambol,Gnome and Fay.“Whispering to the smiling moon,Trill, trill, ‘Come soon.’So we! quaint and gay,Antic gambol,Gnome and Fay.“As the breezes come and go.Hum, hum. Just so.So we! quaint and gay,Antic gambol,Gnome and Fay.”

“Nurslings of the summer airBuzz, buzz, here, there.So we! quaint and gay,Antic gambol,Gnome and Fay.

“Nurslings of the summer air

Buzz, buzz, here, there.

So we! quaint and gay,

Antic gambol,

Gnome and Fay.

“Whispering to the smiling moon,Trill, trill, ‘Come soon.’So we! quaint and gay,Antic gambol,Gnome and Fay.

“Whispering to the smiling moon,

Trill, trill, ‘Come soon.’

So we! quaint and gay,

Antic gambol,

Gnome and Fay.

“As the breezes come and go.Hum, hum. Just so.So we! quaint and gay,Antic gambol,Gnome and Fay.”

“As the breezes come and go.

Hum, hum. Just so.

So we! quaint and gay,

Antic gambol,

Gnome and Fay.”

As a single drop of water contains things with life and being, which cannot be seen with the naked eye, so in space dwell the creatures of the imagination, both wise and beautiful, being full of love and sympathy for mankind and goodwill towards women and young children. Show me a selfish, disobedient boy, or a naughty girl, who ever saw a fairy. You can’t. I defy you to produce one. But many a bright youth and pretty maiden, who love truth and obedience better than play or lollies, can testify that the lovely persons who came to them in dreams were the same who now stood round the cradle of the dead baby.

How these wee people had loved it, and had[262]kept watch and ward over it, ever since they had espied it in its basket cradle downstairs! Fresh from the mysterious star-world, of which they knew nothing, they had marvelled at it, and had crowed and cooed and sung to it, until it had begun to know them, and answer after its fashion, and laugh, and shake its fat, dimpled fists and crow too.

How they had watched it when it slept, and filled its tiny brain with innocent visions pure as the setting sun! How they had caused their magic to mantle its slumber, and the little rosebud mouth to open out in smiles! How silent and still now! No smile parts the pale lips. Not all the witchcraft in Fairyland, nor all the songs sung by sprite or fay to fretful babyhood, can lift but even one slender hair from those drooping eyelids which shroud the dim, blue eyes.

“Baby’s dead,” said one, and “Dead, dead, dead,” repeated all the elfin circle.

“Let us bear it hence unto the open glade. The bright beams of the morning sun will bring back its look of gladness, and we shall hear its voice again.”

“Ay, bear it hence,” replied the chorus.

Cradled in the wild flowers they had spread around it, the elfins carried off their silent burden, and laid it gently within a scented grove, and as the glorious morn broke forth to life and gladness,[263]the birds gathered together in the fairy haunt and sang a requiem.

Up rose the sun and filled the dell with golden splendour. Its shining beams spread through the foliage in amber-coloured radiance, and played about the fair head of the dead baby until the creatures around shrank back in awe at the sight; but the sun brought no light to its eyes, nor smile to its lips. And so they carried the infant back again within its little room, and departed wondering.

Oh, weeping mother, whose bitter tears have drenched thy baby’s winding sheet, had’st thou faith even as a grain of mustard seed in theMaster, thou couldst see above thee, beyond that cold, dead clay, the forms of angels bearing thy little one to eternal rest.

Oh, ye parents, shall I preach to you, as well as to your children? Ye who, when your daily task is done, sit brooding o’er the loss of some fondly remembered child, now sleeping its long sleep in death, take heart if ye have loved it; then it is not dead, but lives again within you. Love cannot die, for it is as immortal as the soul. Like Jacob’s ladder, it is the broad pathway from Paradise to earth, by which our little ones come back to us in visions and in dreams to give us assurance of the tender care of God.[264]

[Contents]RUBYWINGS.[Contents]CHAPTER I.THE JOURNEY.Come with me for an hour, out of the hard, stony by-ways and hot, dusty thoroughfares of this work-a-day city.Mount behind me on the broad wings of this carrier-bird, which most men have, yet which no mortal hath ever seen! Sit close and fear not, for our pillion is soft and easy, the steed safe. Now mount and away!“Where silvery songs of bird and bee,Of leaf and lake and stream,Round us hum and flit and fleeWhile we linger silentlyIn our noon-tide dream.”Nothing but ice! Walls of it, peaks, spires, towers, grottoes, floors. Ice everywhere! It is of all manner of delicate hues—pale green and blue; and where the edges catch the sun it shines even brighter than the glitter of a thousand clustering[265]diamonds. This is Silverhaze, the border of Fairyland. The King of Silverhaze stood at the ice-bound portal of his kingdom, when he observed the approach of a very old man. The gait of the mortal wayfarer was slow and feeble, and he often paused to rest ere he reached the gates where stood the monarch.“Who lives here, Spirit?” he asked of the Frost King.“I,” responded the tall, bearded form, in a sweet voice which sounded like a song heard a long way off.“Where is Fairyland, and how am I to get there?” inquired the old gentleman in a faint tone.“You are standing on the boundary line of the region you seek,” answered the King; “this is the wall encircling the land of the Australian Elves, O mortal!”“What a thick rampart of ice!” exclaimed the old man, curiously inspecting the great white barrier.“True,” answered the Frost King. “This wall is made from the dew and rain of Earth that are not delicate enough to moisten the tender grass of Elfland. I catch the mists as they wreathe themselves upward, and divide them; that which[266]has touched and been tainted with the under world I build up into these icy walls; that which is pure as the morning cloud floats on into the country where you are going.”“Thank you; may I wander onward?”“Ay! Few come here to break my repose. I live here alone. Continue your journey onwards towards Moonrise, and you will see all you want.”“Shall I see everything, O King Frost?”“Nay, that will depend on yourself. If you can fling away from you every thought that is not fit for the pure mind of an innocent child, then shall you behold wonders.”“Alas! great King, I am afraid I cannot do that. Who can, who can? In my youth I never heard of this glorious Fairyland. Childhood, young manhood, mature age, were all spent by me in getting and hoarding money; and now the time is drawing near when I must depart; but ere I go I want to view the silver mosses and green slopes of these regions.”The old man bent low before the Ice Monarch, whose cold blue eyes changed to flashing steel.“The old man bent low before the ice monarch.”Australian Fairy Tales][Page 266.“The old man bent low before the ice monarch.”“I can help you,” he answered. “Come here, and let me touch your forehead. If you wish it in your heart, I will draw from you your memories and thoughts, and send you a child into Fairyland.[267]Your past will lie here for you in my ice cave, a burden or a blessing, for you to resume as you go out.”“How, a burden or a blessing?” asked the mortal.“That again will depend on yourself; according to what you see in your travels will yourpastseem to you on your return.”“But you said I should see all.”“You will have the power of seeing all, yet you will only see that which you care to look upon.”As the Frost King spoke, he advanced and touched the mortal’s brow with his finger. While he did so there glided beneath the old man’s feet a silver cloud-car, which instantly enveloped him and carried him away from the ice-clad border with the swiftness of a sea-gull. Amazement grew upon him as he felt himself borne away and no visible thing in view. Then remembering what the Spirit had said, he exclaimed aloud, “Can I not see what is about me?”The words were hardly uttered when he perceived that he was the occupant of a gorgeous conveyance drawn by a team of butterflies, with a lovely child seated therein driving them. Wonderful indeed the delicate tints and shades which the moonbeams had woven in her robes. Still more wondrous[268]the blended purity and beauty of her face. Exquisitely, deliciously soft and musical the voice that addressed him in accents like the soft south wind, wooing the trees at summer’s eventide.“Welcome, Sir Mortal. Welcome to Elfland.”“Dear child, art thou a fairy?” he cried in surprise.“‘I AM QUEEN OF THE BUTTERFLIES,’ SHE REPLIED.”“ ‘I AM QUEEN OF THE BUTTERFLIES,’ SHE REPLIED.”“Yes! My name is Rubywings,” she answered, with a beaming smile.“Rubywings,” he repeated. “It is a delightful name, my child; but why do they call thee Rubywings?”“Because I am Queen of the Butterflies,” she[269]replied; “and because I am also the messenger of Peace and Charity to the good of the Earth. Invisible to all else of mortal birth am I. Peace! Let us onward.”Brilliantly flashed the wings of the butterflies as they wafted the cloud-car, light and joyous as the golden orioles that flew before them. Here they fluttered among curious rocks of veined and marbled stone, here and there soft mosses, which grew in little clumps, some in scales, like trays on which stood silver cups for the fays to drink out of. Then ferns peeped out with their long tresses that blew backwards and forwards in the wind. A trickle of water began to flow from a deep cranny, and tall plants blossomed along its course. Suddenly they came upon a wide, beautiful plain, robed with such lovely, silk-like grass, only to be found in these regions. Here tall palms tossed their feathery heads, while creepers, bearing flowers, streaked with gold and brown, climbed about their trunks.Still onward, with but a passing glimpse at the emerald carpet beneath, until they reached a fine lagoon, in the midst of which an island appeared to view, so fair and beautiful that the rest of the landscape turned bleak and barren by comparison. Over this wondrous place Rubywings guided the[270]cloud-car. Landing where a mossy bank sloped gently to the water, the fairy led her companion into such a charming garden that a burst of rapture broke from his lips at sight of it. The most refined imagination of mortal man never conceived such a world of rare beauty. No seasons came and went here, the flowers bloomed eternally. Like a jewelled crown encircling the brows of a queen, so a vast ring of pale blossoms surrounded this bower of loveliness—primrose, with her beseeching face, shy snowdrop, loving violet, with her whisper of summer, glad hyacinth, ringing a peal of bells, whose faint tinkle came upon the mortal’s ears, like subdued melody.Rubywings pointed out a soft couch of ferns, bordered with lilies, and said,—“Rest thee here awhile, O mortal. Sleep, dream, bewilder thyself. When thou wakest, thine eyes shall open upon the ministering spirits of Nature, which I go to bring around thee.“ ‘Bi baby bunting,I am going huntingFor the shadows as they fly,For the winds to waft them by;Bi baby bunting!’ ”Ere her childish song had ended Rubywings vanished, and the mortal fell asleep.[271][Contents]CHAPTER II.SHADOWS.The old mortal, whom the fays had christened Ready Money, slept soundly in that island garden into which he had been guided by Rubywings. And as he slumbered, behold the Fairy Queen approached with a golden wand in her hand. She stood over him and gently waved the wand to and fro, when lo! the flowers around and about instantly assumed the shape of frolicsome sprites who formed themselves into a vast ring about him. Again Rubywings lifted her enchanted staff, and the trees receded backwards in the distance as so many drifting clouds athwart the horizon. And waving her wand for the third time, a sudden darkness shrouded the island save where the man reposed.Round that clear, circular space, bordered by the crowded ranks of the elves, there shone a brilliant, steady, silvery light, brighter than the sun and softer than a moonbeam.Rubywings stooped and whispered in the sleeper’s ear. And as she did so, the magic ring widened and widened out, until at length it appeared to encompass the whole landscape. The beautiful[272]light increased simultaneously with the wonderful expansion of the garden, thereby adding a tenfold beauty to every object upon which it rested.“Behold, mortal, this is the valley of the shadows. First lift thine eyes,” cried the fairy.Ready Money obeyed, and saw much clearer than with his waking sight. Into the shimmering ring there glided the Monarch of the Shadows. He was not at all black or gloomy. Not in the least—his manners were soft and engaging, and his robe was decorated with all kinds of delicate tints, brown and silver-grey, and violet shaded with faint blue and azure. All the fays bowed down reverently before him, because they knew he was the greatest Shadow in the land. Painters loved him and made charming pictures of him, and poets sang of him and wrote songs in his praise, and yet neither painter nor poet could tell how great, how magnificent and glorious he was.Troop by troop, rank and column, the Shadows came out of the ravines, valleys and dells, and from the clefts in the hill sides, and from amongst the rocks, and approached the King in due order and gave an account of their several missions.Some told how they had spent their time in sick rooms, where people lay tossing in pain, and how they had rested the eyes of many a weary sufferer,[273]and shielded them from the glaring light, and how sometimes they had gathered thickly round them and lulled them into health-giving sleep. Others spoke of travellers far from home, who, longing to see their wives and children or friends once more, had been comforted by the Shadows, who took upon themselves the dear home figures and the scenes of home.The mortal listened eagerly to every word uttered by these ministers of Nature. Hitherto he had believed that Beam and Shadow alike had no life, any more than the particles of dust beneath his feet, and were just as useless. What sick couch hadhevisited? What heart comforted? What good accomplished for the benefit of his kindred? Why, the very Shadows, dim and soulless as they were, had done more good than he had done, and Ready Money trembled as the thought came home to him. One grand fellow bent his tall form before the Shadow King and said that when the summer sun waxed hot and fierce over the Australian Continent he cast himself across the fiery pathway of the burning rays, thereby refreshing many a broiling citizen, and making cool and restful shade beneath tree and hill, and giving beauty to field and stream, by throwing lovely, translucent shadows over them, and so bringing out to full[274]perfection the form and colour of all created things.Then there advanced Shadows of a gloomier, darker hue. Drooping, careworn, and sorrow-laden, they had come from the houses of the very poor, from courts of justice, from prison cells where criminals sat in silence and despair. Many had come from homes where there was no love of parents; where wives and husbands were at strife; where fierce words, and cruel blows, and hard usage were the rule of daily death in life. Others had just left places of business, where men, who ought to know better, toiled year after year to increase their wealth, striving after gold, lying and cheating for it, holding it tightly when they had it, and shuddering as the time drew near when they must go hence and leave it all to others.If these Shadows, fresh from counting-houses and cobweb-covered chambers, wherein sat men faded and wan, as the colourless walls around them, if they had been the Shadow only of this listening mortal, they could hardly have presented a more realistic picture of his life in the past than they did in their report of others.Lying there powerless, there came upon him a strong desire to get back amongst his fellow-men if it were only for one short month—nay, but only[275]the length of a brief day; for in it what good might be done and what atonement made! Alas! for our resolution. Ready Money was fast held beneath the influence of the wand of Rubywings, and therefore could not budge.When the grim Shadows rested, there came an altogether merrier group upon the scene. These related how they had given their attention to schoolrooms, alarming idle boys and girls by bringing the Shadow of their teachers upon them just in the middle of a game of romps. Others again had had rare fun with naughty little folks who were going to help themselves to sugar and jam, by looking over their shoulders and making believe thatsome onewas coming.Next the house Shadows took their turn, and showed how they engaged themselves, by making pleasant figures on the floor and walls, dancing in the firelight, and playing bo-peep in the curtains on winter evenings. When all the reports were finished, the King called to the Wind to dismiss the Shadows.Then the Wind came, and the Shadows, ere they took their departure, amused themselves as they liked best. In the most surprising manner some played leap-frog, hide-and-seek, and blind-man’s-buff. Others raced along the sward and[276]up the side of the hills, like so many will-o’-the-wisps; many changing into all kinds of strange and fantastic shapes, until the silver light dimmed and died out, and the beautiful garden resumed its grandeur as before.And a change came o’er the slumbering mortal. Slowly he opened his eyes, but the fairy with her enchanting wand was not there, nor the flowers and trees. Nothing, save the high boundary wall of ice and the white-bearded Frost King standing near.“Resume thy earth-woven memories, O mortal!” he said in a grave, solemn tone. “Stand upright that I may touch thee. So! Go thy way for a brief season. In thy daily wanderings here and there thy former friends shall not recognise thee! From henceforth, Greed, Selfishness, Envy, and all of that nature that were dear to thee, shall become thy bitter foes. Remember what the Shadows said. Farewell!”Down, earthward, with tottering and uncertain step went the mortal; downward, along the broad, sunny pathway, where innumerable birds sang, and trees waved, and where the low, hoarse murmur of bread-winning millions ascended to the Creator.[277]

RUBYWINGS.

[Contents]CHAPTER I.THE JOURNEY.Come with me for an hour, out of the hard, stony by-ways and hot, dusty thoroughfares of this work-a-day city.Mount behind me on the broad wings of this carrier-bird, which most men have, yet which no mortal hath ever seen! Sit close and fear not, for our pillion is soft and easy, the steed safe. Now mount and away!“Where silvery songs of bird and bee,Of leaf and lake and stream,Round us hum and flit and fleeWhile we linger silentlyIn our noon-tide dream.”Nothing but ice! Walls of it, peaks, spires, towers, grottoes, floors. Ice everywhere! It is of all manner of delicate hues—pale green and blue; and where the edges catch the sun it shines even brighter than the glitter of a thousand clustering[265]diamonds. This is Silverhaze, the border of Fairyland. The King of Silverhaze stood at the ice-bound portal of his kingdom, when he observed the approach of a very old man. The gait of the mortal wayfarer was slow and feeble, and he often paused to rest ere he reached the gates where stood the monarch.“Who lives here, Spirit?” he asked of the Frost King.“I,” responded the tall, bearded form, in a sweet voice which sounded like a song heard a long way off.“Where is Fairyland, and how am I to get there?” inquired the old gentleman in a faint tone.“You are standing on the boundary line of the region you seek,” answered the King; “this is the wall encircling the land of the Australian Elves, O mortal!”“What a thick rampart of ice!” exclaimed the old man, curiously inspecting the great white barrier.“True,” answered the Frost King. “This wall is made from the dew and rain of Earth that are not delicate enough to moisten the tender grass of Elfland. I catch the mists as they wreathe themselves upward, and divide them; that which[266]has touched and been tainted with the under world I build up into these icy walls; that which is pure as the morning cloud floats on into the country where you are going.”“Thank you; may I wander onward?”“Ay! Few come here to break my repose. I live here alone. Continue your journey onwards towards Moonrise, and you will see all you want.”“Shall I see everything, O King Frost?”“Nay, that will depend on yourself. If you can fling away from you every thought that is not fit for the pure mind of an innocent child, then shall you behold wonders.”“Alas! great King, I am afraid I cannot do that. Who can, who can? In my youth I never heard of this glorious Fairyland. Childhood, young manhood, mature age, were all spent by me in getting and hoarding money; and now the time is drawing near when I must depart; but ere I go I want to view the silver mosses and green slopes of these regions.”The old man bent low before the Ice Monarch, whose cold blue eyes changed to flashing steel.“The old man bent low before the ice monarch.”Australian Fairy Tales][Page 266.“The old man bent low before the ice monarch.”“I can help you,” he answered. “Come here, and let me touch your forehead. If you wish it in your heart, I will draw from you your memories and thoughts, and send you a child into Fairyland.[267]Your past will lie here for you in my ice cave, a burden or a blessing, for you to resume as you go out.”“How, a burden or a blessing?” asked the mortal.“That again will depend on yourself; according to what you see in your travels will yourpastseem to you on your return.”“But you said I should see all.”“You will have the power of seeing all, yet you will only see that which you care to look upon.”As the Frost King spoke, he advanced and touched the mortal’s brow with his finger. While he did so there glided beneath the old man’s feet a silver cloud-car, which instantly enveloped him and carried him away from the ice-clad border with the swiftness of a sea-gull. Amazement grew upon him as he felt himself borne away and no visible thing in view. Then remembering what the Spirit had said, he exclaimed aloud, “Can I not see what is about me?”The words were hardly uttered when he perceived that he was the occupant of a gorgeous conveyance drawn by a team of butterflies, with a lovely child seated therein driving them. Wonderful indeed the delicate tints and shades which the moonbeams had woven in her robes. Still more wondrous[268]the blended purity and beauty of her face. Exquisitely, deliciously soft and musical the voice that addressed him in accents like the soft south wind, wooing the trees at summer’s eventide.“Welcome, Sir Mortal. Welcome to Elfland.”“Dear child, art thou a fairy?” he cried in surprise.“‘I AM QUEEN OF THE BUTTERFLIES,’ SHE REPLIED.”“ ‘I AM QUEEN OF THE BUTTERFLIES,’ SHE REPLIED.”“Yes! My name is Rubywings,” she answered, with a beaming smile.“Rubywings,” he repeated. “It is a delightful name, my child; but why do they call thee Rubywings?”“Because I am Queen of the Butterflies,” she[269]replied; “and because I am also the messenger of Peace and Charity to the good of the Earth. Invisible to all else of mortal birth am I. Peace! Let us onward.”Brilliantly flashed the wings of the butterflies as they wafted the cloud-car, light and joyous as the golden orioles that flew before them. Here they fluttered among curious rocks of veined and marbled stone, here and there soft mosses, which grew in little clumps, some in scales, like trays on which stood silver cups for the fays to drink out of. Then ferns peeped out with their long tresses that blew backwards and forwards in the wind. A trickle of water began to flow from a deep cranny, and tall plants blossomed along its course. Suddenly they came upon a wide, beautiful plain, robed with such lovely, silk-like grass, only to be found in these regions. Here tall palms tossed their feathery heads, while creepers, bearing flowers, streaked with gold and brown, climbed about their trunks.Still onward, with but a passing glimpse at the emerald carpet beneath, until they reached a fine lagoon, in the midst of which an island appeared to view, so fair and beautiful that the rest of the landscape turned bleak and barren by comparison. Over this wondrous place Rubywings guided the[270]cloud-car. Landing where a mossy bank sloped gently to the water, the fairy led her companion into such a charming garden that a burst of rapture broke from his lips at sight of it. The most refined imagination of mortal man never conceived such a world of rare beauty. No seasons came and went here, the flowers bloomed eternally. Like a jewelled crown encircling the brows of a queen, so a vast ring of pale blossoms surrounded this bower of loveliness—primrose, with her beseeching face, shy snowdrop, loving violet, with her whisper of summer, glad hyacinth, ringing a peal of bells, whose faint tinkle came upon the mortal’s ears, like subdued melody.Rubywings pointed out a soft couch of ferns, bordered with lilies, and said,—“Rest thee here awhile, O mortal. Sleep, dream, bewilder thyself. When thou wakest, thine eyes shall open upon the ministering spirits of Nature, which I go to bring around thee.“ ‘Bi baby bunting,I am going huntingFor the shadows as they fly,For the winds to waft them by;Bi baby bunting!’ ”Ere her childish song had ended Rubywings vanished, and the mortal fell asleep.[271][Contents]CHAPTER II.SHADOWS.The old mortal, whom the fays had christened Ready Money, slept soundly in that island garden into which he had been guided by Rubywings. And as he slumbered, behold the Fairy Queen approached with a golden wand in her hand. She stood over him and gently waved the wand to and fro, when lo! the flowers around and about instantly assumed the shape of frolicsome sprites who formed themselves into a vast ring about him. Again Rubywings lifted her enchanted staff, and the trees receded backwards in the distance as so many drifting clouds athwart the horizon. And waving her wand for the third time, a sudden darkness shrouded the island save where the man reposed.Round that clear, circular space, bordered by the crowded ranks of the elves, there shone a brilliant, steady, silvery light, brighter than the sun and softer than a moonbeam.Rubywings stooped and whispered in the sleeper’s ear. And as she did so, the magic ring widened and widened out, until at length it appeared to encompass the whole landscape. The beautiful[272]light increased simultaneously with the wonderful expansion of the garden, thereby adding a tenfold beauty to every object upon which it rested.“Behold, mortal, this is the valley of the shadows. First lift thine eyes,” cried the fairy.Ready Money obeyed, and saw much clearer than with his waking sight. Into the shimmering ring there glided the Monarch of the Shadows. He was not at all black or gloomy. Not in the least—his manners were soft and engaging, and his robe was decorated with all kinds of delicate tints, brown and silver-grey, and violet shaded with faint blue and azure. All the fays bowed down reverently before him, because they knew he was the greatest Shadow in the land. Painters loved him and made charming pictures of him, and poets sang of him and wrote songs in his praise, and yet neither painter nor poet could tell how great, how magnificent and glorious he was.Troop by troop, rank and column, the Shadows came out of the ravines, valleys and dells, and from the clefts in the hill sides, and from amongst the rocks, and approached the King in due order and gave an account of their several missions.Some told how they had spent their time in sick rooms, where people lay tossing in pain, and how they had rested the eyes of many a weary sufferer,[273]and shielded them from the glaring light, and how sometimes they had gathered thickly round them and lulled them into health-giving sleep. Others spoke of travellers far from home, who, longing to see their wives and children or friends once more, had been comforted by the Shadows, who took upon themselves the dear home figures and the scenes of home.The mortal listened eagerly to every word uttered by these ministers of Nature. Hitherto he had believed that Beam and Shadow alike had no life, any more than the particles of dust beneath his feet, and were just as useless. What sick couch hadhevisited? What heart comforted? What good accomplished for the benefit of his kindred? Why, the very Shadows, dim and soulless as they were, had done more good than he had done, and Ready Money trembled as the thought came home to him. One grand fellow bent his tall form before the Shadow King and said that when the summer sun waxed hot and fierce over the Australian Continent he cast himself across the fiery pathway of the burning rays, thereby refreshing many a broiling citizen, and making cool and restful shade beneath tree and hill, and giving beauty to field and stream, by throwing lovely, translucent shadows over them, and so bringing out to full[274]perfection the form and colour of all created things.Then there advanced Shadows of a gloomier, darker hue. Drooping, careworn, and sorrow-laden, they had come from the houses of the very poor, from courts of justice, from prison cells where criminals sat in silence and despair. Many had come from homes where there was no love of parents; where wives and husbands were at strife; where fierce words, and cruel blows, and hard usage were the rule of daily death in life. Others had just left places of business, where men, who ought to know better, toiled year after year to increase their wealth, striving after gold, lying and cheating for it, holding it tightly when they had it, and shuddering as the time drew near when they must go hence and leave it all to others.If these Shadows, fresh from counting-houses and cobweb-covered chambers, wherein sat men faded and wan, as the colourless walls around them, if they had been the Shadow only of this listening mortal, they could hardly have presented a more realistic picture of his life in the past than they did in their report of others.Lying there powerless, there came upon him a strong desire to get back amongst his fellow-men if it were only for one short month—nay, but only[275]the length of a brief day; for in it what good might be done and what atonement made! Alas! for our resolution. Ready Money was fast held beneath the influence of the wand of Rubywings, and therefore could not budge.When the grim Shadows rested, there came an altogether merrier group upon the scene. These related how they had given their attention to schoolrooms, alarming idle boys and girls by bringing the Shadow of their teachers upon them just in the middle of a game of romps. Others again had had rare fun with naughty little folks who were going to help themselves to sugar and jam, by looking over their shoulders and making believe thatsome onewas coming.Next the house Shadows took their turn, and showed how they engaged themselves, by making pleasant figures on the floor and walls, dancing in the firelight, and playing bo-peep in the curtains on winter evenings. When all the reports were finished, the King called to the Wind to dismiss the Shadows.Then the Wind came, and the Shadows, ere they took their departure, amused themselves as they liked best. In the most surprising manner some played leap-frog, hide-and-seek, and blind-man’s-buff. Others raced along the sward and[276]up the side of the hills, like so many will-o’-the-wisps; many changing into all kinds of strange and fantastic shapes, until the silver light dimmed and died out, and the beautiful garden resumed its grandeur as before.And a change came o’er the slumbering mortal. Slowly he opened his eyes, but the fairy with her enchanting wand was not there, nor the flowers and trees. Nothing, save the high boundary wall of ice and the white-bearded Frost King standing near.“Resume thy earth-woven memories, O mortal!” he said in a grave, solemn tone. “Stand upright that I may touch thee. So! Go thy way for a brief season. In thy daily wanderings here and there thy former friends shall not recognise thee! From henceforth, Greed, Selfishness, Envy, and all of that nature that were dear to thee, shall become thy bitter foes. Remember what the Shadows said. Farewell!”Down, earthward, with tottering and uncertain step went the mortal; downward, along the broad, sunny pathway, where innumerable birds sang, and trees waved, and where the low, hoarse murmur of bread-winning millions ascended to the Creator.[277]

[Contents]CHAPTER I.THE JOURNEY.Come with me for an hour, out of the hard, stony by-ways and hot, dusty thoroughfares of this work-a-day city.Mount behind me on the broad wings of this carrier-bird, which most men have, yet which no mortal hath ever seen! Sit close and fear not, for our pillion is soft and easy, the steed safe. Now mount and away!“Where silvery songs of bird and bee,Of leaf and lake and stream,Round us hum and flit and fleeWhile we linger silentlyIn our noon-tide dream.”Nothing but ice! Walls of it, peaks, spires, towers, grottoes, floors. Ice everywhere! It is of all manner of delicate hues—pale green and blue; and where the edges catch the sun it shines even brighter than the glitter of a thousand clustering[265]diamonds. This is Silverhaze, the border of Fairyland. The King of Silverhaze stood at the ice-bound portal of his kingdom, when he observed the approach of a very old man. The gait of the mortal wayfarer was slow and feeble, and he often paused to rest ere he reached the gates where stood the monarch.“Who lives here, Spirit?” he asked of the Frost King.“I,” responded the tall, bearded form, in a sweet voice which sounded like a song heard a long way off.“Where is Fairyland, and how am I to get there?” inquired the old gentleman in a faint tone.“You are standing on the boundary line of the region you seek,” answered the King; “this is the wall encircling the land of the Australian Elves, O mortal!”“What a thick rampart of ice!” exclaimed the old man, curiously inspecting the great white barrier.“True,” answered the Frost King. “This wall is made from the dew and rain of Earth that are not delicate enough to moisten the tender grass of Elfland. I catch the mists as they wreathe themselves upward, and divide them; that which[266]has touched and been tainted with the under world I build up into these icy walls; that which is pure as the morning cloud floats on into the country where you are going.”“Thank you; may I wander onward?”“Ay! Few come here to break my repose. I live here alone. Continue your journey onwards towards Moonrise, and you will see all you want.”“Shall I see everything, O King Frost?”“Nay, that will depend on yourself. If you can fling away from you every thought that is not fit for the pure mind of an innocent child, then shall you behold wonders.”“Alas! great King, I am afraid I cannot do that. Who can, who can? In my youth I never heard of this glorious Fairyland. Childhood, young manhood, mature age, were all spent by me in getting and hoarding money; and now the time is drawing near when I must depart; but ere I go I want to view the silver mosses and green slopes of these regions.”The old man bent low before the Ice Monarch, whose cold blue eyes changed to flashing steel.“The old man bent low before the ice monarch.”Australian Fairy Tales][Page 266.“The old man bent low before the ice monarch.”“I can help you,” he answered. “Come here, and let me touch your forehead. If you wish it in your heart, I will draw from you your memories and thoughts, and send you a child into Fairyland.[267]Your past will lie here for you in my ice cave, a burden or a blessing, for you to resume as you go out.”“How, a burden or a blessing?” asked the mortal.“That again will depend on yourself; according to what you see in your travels will yourpastseem to you on your return.”“But you said I should see all.”“You will have the power of seeing all, yet you will only see that which you care to look upon.”As the Frost King spoke, he advanced and touched the mortal’s brow with his finger. While he did so there glided beneath the old man’s feet a silver cloud-car, which instantly enveloped him and carried him away from the ice-clad border with the swiftness of a sea-gull. Amazement grew upon him as he felt himself borne away and no visible thing in view. Then remembering what the Spirit had said, he exclaimed aloud, “Can I not see what is about me?”The words were hardly uttered when he perceived that he was the occupant of a gorgeous conveyance drawn by a team of butterflies, with a lovely child seated therein driving them. Wonderful indeed the delicate tints and shades which the moonbeams had woven in her robes. Still more wondrous[268]the blended purity and beauty of her face. Exquisitely, deliciously soft and musical the voice that addressed him in accents like the soft south wind, wooing the trees at summer’s eventide.“Welcome, Sir Mortal. Welcome to Elfland.”“Dear child, art thou a fairy?” he cried in surprise.“‘I AM QUEEN OF THE BUTTERFLIES,’ SHE REPLIED.”“ ‘I AM QUEEN OF THE BUTTERFLIES,’ SHE REPLIED.”“Yes! My name is Rubywings,” she answered, with a beaming smile.“Rubywings,” he repeated. “It is a delightful name, my child; but why do they call thee Rubywings?”“Because I am Queen of the Butterflies,” she[269]replied; “and because I am also the messenger of Peace and Charity to the good of the Earth. Invisible to all else of mortal birth am I. Peace! Let us onward.”Brilliantly flashed the wings of the butterflies as they wafted the cloud-car, light and joyous as the golden orioles that flew before them. Here they fluttered among curious rocks of veined and marbled stone, here and there soft mosses, which grew in little clumps, some in scales, like trays on which stood silver cups for the fays to drink out of. Then ferns peeped out with their long tresses that blew backwards and forwards in the wind. A trickle of water began to flow from a deep cranny, and tall plants blossomed along its course. Suddenly they came upon a wide, beautiful plain, robed with such lovely, silk-like grass, only to be found in these regions. Here tall palms tossed their feathery heads, while creepers, bearing flowers, streaked with gold and brown, climbed about their trunks.Still onward, with but a passing glimpse at the emerald carpet beneath, until they reached a fine lagoon, in the midst of which an island appeared to view, so fair and beautiful that the rest of the landscape turned bleak and barren by comparison. Over this wondrous place Rubywings guided the[270]cloud-car. Landing where a mossy bank sloped gently to the water, the fairy led her companion into such a charming garden that a burst of rapture broke from his lips at sight of it. The most refined imagination of mortal man never conceived such a world of rare beauty. No seasons came and went here, the flowers bloomed eternally. Like a jewelled crown encircling the brows of a queen, so a vast ring of pale blossoms surrounded this bower of loveliness—primrose, with her beseeching face, shy snowdrop, loving violet, with her whisper of summer, glad hyacinth, ringing a peal of bells, whose faint tinkle came upon the mortal’s ears, like subdued melody.Rubywings pointed out a soft couch of ferns, bordered with lilies, and said,—“Rest thee here awhile, O mortal. Sleep, dream, bewilder thyself. When thou wakest, thine eyes shall open upon the ministering spirits of Nature, which I go to bring around thee.“ ‘Bi baby bunting,I am going huntingFor the shadows as they fly,For the winds to waft them by;Bi baby bunting!’ ”Ere her childish song had ended Rubywings vanished, and the mortal fell asleep.[271]

CHAPTER I.THE JOURNEY.

Come with me for an hour, out of the hard, stony by-ways and hot, dusty thoroughfares of this work-a-day city.Mount behind me on the broad wings of this carrier-bird, which most men have, yet which no mortal hath ever seen! Sit close and fear not, for our pillion is soft and easy, the steed safe. Now mount and away!“Where silvery songs of bird and bee,Of leaf and lake and stream,Round us hum and flit and fleeWhile we linger silentlyIn our noon-tide dream.”Nothing but ice! Walls of it, peaks, spires, towers, grottoes, floors. Ice everywhere! It is of all manner of delicate hues—pale green and blue; and where the edges catch the sun it shines even brighter than the glitter of a thousand clustering[265]diamonds. This is Silverhaze, the border of Fairyland. The King of Silverhaze stood at the ice-bound portal of his kingdom, when he observed the approach of a very old man. The gait of the mortal wayfarer was slow and feeble, and he often paused to rest ere he reached the gates where stood the monarch.“Who lives here, Spirit?” he asked of the Frost King.“I,” responded the tall, bearded form, in a sweet voice which sounded like a song heard a long way off.“Where is Fairyland, and how am I to get there?” inquired the old gentleman in a faint tone.“You are standing on the boundary line of the region you seek,” answered the King; “this is the wall encircling the land of the Australian Elves, O mortal!”“What a thick rampart of ice!” exclaimed the old man, curiously inspecting the great white barrier.“True,” answered the Frost King. “This wall is made from the dew and rain of Earth that are not delicate enough to moisten the tender grass of Elfland. I catch the mists as they wreathe themselves upward, and divide them; that which[266]has touched and been tainted with the under world I build up into these icy walls; that which is pure as the morning cloud floats on into the country where you are going.”“Thank you; may I wander onward?”“Ay! Few come here to break my repose. I live here alone. Continue your journey onwards towards Moonrise, and you will see all you want.”“Shall I see everything, O King Frost?”“Nay, that will depend on yourself. If you can fling away from you every thought that is not fit for the pure mind of an innocent child, then shall you behold wonders.”“Alas! great King, I am afraid I cannot do that. Who can, who can? In my youth I never heard of this glorious Fairyland. Childhood, young manhood, mature age, were all spent by me in getting and hoarding money; and now the time is drawing near when I must depart; but ere I go I want to view the silver mosses and green slopes of these regions.”The old man bent low before the Ice Monarch, whose cold blue eyes changed to flashing steel.“The old man bent low before the ice monarch.”Australian Fairy Tales][Page 266.“The old man bent low before the ice monarch.”“I can help you,” he answered. “Come here, and let me touch your forehead. If you wish it in your heart, I will draw from you your memories and thoughts, and send you a child into Fairyland.[267]Your past will lie here for you in my ice cave, a burden or a blessing, for you to resume as you go out.”“How, a burden or a blessing?” asked the mortal.“That again will depend on yourself; according to what you see in your travels will yourpastseem to you on your return.”“But you said I should see all.”“You will have the power of seeing all, yet you will only see that which you care to look upon.”As the Frost King spoke, he advanced and touched the mortal’s brow with his finger. While he did so there glided beneath the old man’s feet a silver cloud-car, which instantly enveloped him and carried him away from the ice-clad border with the swiftness of a sea-gull. Amazement grew upon him as he felt himself borne away and no visible thing in view. Then remembering what the Spirit had said, he exclaimed aloud, “Can I not see what is about me?”The words were hardly uttered when he perceived that he was the occupant of a gorgeous conveyance drawn by a team of butterflies, with a lovely child seated therein driving them. Wonderful indeed the delicate tints and shades which the moonbeams had woven in her robes. Still more wondrous[268]the blended purity and beauty of her face. Exquisitely, deliciously soft and musical the voice that addressed him in accents like the soft south wind, wooing the trees at summer’s eventide.“Welcome, Sir Mortal. Welcome to Elfland.”“Dear child, art thou a fairy?” he cried in surprise.“‘I AM QUEEN OF THE BUTTERFLIES,’ SHE REPLIED.”“ ‘I AM QUEEN OF THE BUTTERFLIES,’ SHE REPLIED.”“Yes! My name is Rubywings,” she answered, with a beaming smile.“Rubywings,” he repeated. “It is a delightful name, my child; but why do they call thee Rubywings?”“Because I am Queen of the Butterflies,” she[269]replied; “and because I am also the messenger of Peace and Charity to the good of the Earth. Invisible to all else of mortal birth am I. Peace! Let us onward.”Brilliantly flashed the wings of the butterflies as they wafted the cloud-car, light and joyous as the golden orioles that flew before them. Here they fluttered among curious rocks of veined and marbled stone, here and there soft mosses, which grew in little clumps, some in scales, like trays on which stood silver cups for the fays to drink out of. Then ferns peeped out with their long tresses that blew backwards and forwards in the wind. A trickle of water began to flow from a deep cranny, and tall plants blossomed along its course. Suddenly they came upon a wide, beautiful plain, robed with such lovely, silk-like grass, only to be found in these regions. Here tall palms tossed their feathery heads, while creepers, bearing flowers, streaked with gold and brown, climbed about their trunks.Still onward, with but a passing glimpse at the emerald carpet beneath, until they reached a fine lagoon, in the midst of which an island appeared to view, so fair and beautiful that the rest of the landscape turned bleak and barren by comparison. Over this wondrous place Rubywings guided the[270]cloud-car. Landing where a mossy bank sloped gently to the water, the fairy led her companion into such a charming garden that a burst of rapture broke from his lips at sight of it. The most refined imagination of mortal man never conceived such a world of rare beauty. No seasons came and went here, the flowers bloomed eternally. Like a jewelled crown encircling the brows of a queen, so a vast ring of pale blossoms surrounded this bower of loveliness—primrose, with her beseeching face, shy snowdrop, loving violet, with her whisper of summer, glad hyacinth, ringing a peal of bells, whose faint tinkle came upon the mortal’s ears, like subdued melody.Rubywings pointed out a soft couch of ferns, bordered with lilies, and said,—“Rest thee here awhile, O mortal. Sleep, dream, bewilder thyself. When thou wakest, thine eyes shall open upon the ministering spirits of Nature, which I go to bring around thee.“ ‘Bi baby bunting,I am going huntingFor the shadows as they fly,For the winds to waft them by;Bi baby bunting!’ ”Ere her childish song had ended Rubywings vanished, and the mortal fell asleep.[271]

Come with me for an hour, out of the hard, stony by-ways and hot, dusty thoroughfares of this work-a-day city.

Mount behind me on the broad wings of this carrier-bird, which most men have, yet which no mortal hath ever seen! Sit close and fear not, for our pillion is soft and easy, the steed safe. Now mount and away!

“Where silvery songs of bird and bee,Of leaf and lake and stream,Round us hum and flit and fleeWhile we linger silentlyIn our noon-tide dream.”

“Where silvery songs of bird and bee,

Of leaf and lake and stream,

Round us hum and flit and flee

While we linger silently

In our noon-tide dream.”

Nothing but ice! Walls of it, peaks, spires, towers, grottoes, floors. Ice everywhere! It is of all manner of delicate hues—pale green and blue; and where the edges catch the sun it shines even brighter than the glitter of a thousand clustering[265]diamonds. This is Silverhaze, the border of Fairyland. The King of Silverhaze stood at the ice-bound portal of his kingdom, when he observed the approach of a very old man. The gait of the mortal wayfarer was slow and feeble, and he often paused to rest ere he reached the gates where stood the monarch.

“Who lives here, Spirit?” he asked of the Frost King.

“I,” responded the tall, bearded form, in a sweet voice which sounded like a song heard a long way off.

“Where is Fairyland, and how am I to get there?” inquired the old gentleman in a faint tone.

“You are standing on the boundary line of the region you seek,” answered the King; “this is the wall encircling the land of the Australian Elves, O mortal!”

“What a thick rampart of ice!” exclaimed the old man, curiously inspecting the great white barrier.

“True,” answered the Frost King. “This wall is made from the dew and rain of Earth that are not delicate enough to moisten the tender grass of Elfland. I catch the mists as they wreathe themselves upward, and divide them; that which[266]has touched and been tainted with the under world I build up into these icy walls; that which is pure as the morning cloud floats on into the country where you are going.”

“Thank you; may I wander onward?”

“Ay! Few come here to break my repose. I live here alone. Continue your journey onwards towards Moonrise, and you will see all you want.”

“Shall I see everything, O King Frost?”

“Nay, that will depend on yourself. If you can fling away from you every thought that is not fit for the pure mind of an innocent child, then shall you behold wonders.”

“Alas! great King, I am afraid I cannot do that. Who can, who can? In my youth I never heard of this glorious Fairyland. Childhood, young manhood, mature age, were all spent by me in getting and hoarding money; and now the time is drawing near when I must depart; but ere I go I want to view the silver mosses and green slopes of these regions.”

The old man bent low before the Ice Monarch, whose cold blue eyes changed to flashing steel.

“The old man bent low before the ice monarch.”Australian Fairy Tales][Page 266.“The old man bent low before the ice monarch.”

Australian Fairy Tales][Page 266.

“The old man bent low before the ice monarch.”

“I can help you,” he answered. “Come here, and let me touch your forehead. If you wish it in your heart, I will draw from you your memories and thoughts, and send you a child into Fairyland.[267]Your past will lie here for you in my ice cave, a burden or a blessing, for you to resume as you go out.”

“How, a burden or a blessing?” asked the mortal.

“That again will depend on yourself; according to what you see in your travels will yourpastseem to you on your return.”

“But you said I should see all.”

“You will have the power of seeing all, yet you will only see that which you care to look upon.”As the Frost King spoke, he advanced and touched the mortal’s brow with his finger. While he did so there glided beneath the old man’s feet a silver cloud-car, which instantly enveloped him and carried him away from the ice-clad border with the swiftness of a sea-gull. Amazement grew upon him as he felt himself borne away and no visible thing in view. Then remembering what the Spirit had said, he exclaimed aloud, “Can I not see what is about me?”

The words were hardly uttered when he perceived that he was the occupant of a gorgeous conveyance drawn by a team of butterflies, with a lovely child seated therein driving them. Wonderful indeed the delicate tints and shades which the moonbeams had woven in her robes. Still more wondrous[268]the blended purity and beauty of her face. Exquisitely, deliciously soft and musical the voice that addressed him in accents like the soft south wind, wooing the trees at summer’s eventide.

“Welcome, Sir Mortal. Welcome to Elfland.”

“Dear child, art thou a fairy?” he cried in surprise.

“‘I AM QUEEN OF THE BUTTERFLIES,’ SHE REPLIED.”“ ‘I AM QUEEN OF THE BUTTERFLIES,’ SHE REPLIED.”

“ ‘I AM QUEEN OF THE BUTTERFLIES,’ SHE REPLIED.”

“Yes! My name is Rubywings,” she answered, with a beaming smile.

“Rubywings,” he repeated. “It is a delightful name, my child; but why do they call thee Rubywings?”

“Because I am Queen of the Butterflies,” she[269]replied; “and because I am also the messenger of Peace and Charity to the good of the Earth. Invisible to all else of mortal birth am I. Peace! Let us onward.”

Brilliantly flashed the wings of the butterflies as they wafted the cloud-car, light and joyous as the golden orioles that flew before them. Here they fluttered among curious rocks of veined and marbled stone, here and there soft mosses, which grew in little clumps, some in scales, like trays on which stood silver cups for the fays to drink out of. Then ferns peeped out with their long tresses that blew backwards and forwards in the wind. A trickle of water began to flow from a deep cranny, and tall plants blossomed along its course. Suddenly they came upon a wide, beautiful plain, robed with such lovely, silk-like grass, only to be found in these regions. Here tall palms tossed their feathery heads, while creepers, bearing flowers, streaked with gold and brown, climbed about their trunks.

Still onward, with but a passing glimpse at the emerald carpet beneath, until they reached a fine lagoon, in the midst of which an island appeared to view, so fair and beautiful that the rest of the landscape turned bleak and barren by comparison. Over this wondrous place Rubywings guided the[270]cloud-car. Landing where a mossy bank sloped gently to the water, the fairy led her companion into such a charming garden that a burst of rapture broke from his lips at sight of it. The most refined imagination of mortal man never conceived such a world of rare beauty. No seasons came and went here, the flowers bloomed eternally. Like a jewelled crown encircling the brows of a queen, so a vast ring of pale blossoms surrounded this bower of loveliness—primrose, with her beseeching face, shy snowdrop, loving violet, with her whisper of summer, glad hyacinth, ringing a peal of bells, whose faint tinkle came upon the mortal’s ears, like subdued melody.

Rubywings pointed out a soft couch of ferns, bordered with lilies, and said,—

“Rest thee here awhile, O mortal. Sleep, dream, bewilder thyself. When thou wakest, thine eyes shall open upon the ministering spirits of Nature, which I go to bring around thee.

“ ‘Bi baby bunting,I am going huntingFor the shadows as they fly,For the winds to waft them by;Bi baby bunting!’ ”

“ ‘Bi baby bunting,

I am going hunting

For the shadows as they fly,

For the winds to waft them by;

Bi baby bunting!’ ”

Ere her childish song had ended Rubywings vanished, and the mortal fell asleep.[271]

[Contents]CHAPTER II.SHADOWS.The old mortal, whom the fays had christened Ready Money, slept soundly in that island garden into which he had been guided by Rubywings. And as he slumbered, behold the Fairy Queen approached with a golden wand in her hand. She stood over him and gently waved the wand to and fro, when lo! the flowers around and about instantly assumed the shape of frolicsome sprites who formed themselves into a vast ring about him. Again Rubywings lifted her enchanted staff, and the trees receded backwards in the distance as so many drifting clouds athwart the horizon. And waving her wand for the third time, a sudden darkness shrouded the island save where the man reposed.Round that clear, circular space, bordered by the crowded ranks of the elves, there shone a brilliant, steady, silvery light, brighter than the sun and softer than a moonbeam.Rubywings stooped and whispered in the sleeper’s ear. And as she did so, the magic ring widened and widened out, until at length it appeared to encompass the whole landscape. The beautiful[272]light increased simultaneously with the wonderful expansion of the garden, thereby adding a tenfold beauty to every object upon which it rested.“Behold, mortal, this is the valley of the shadows. First lift thine eyes,” cried the fairy.Ready Money obeyed, and saw much clearer than with his waking sight. Into the shimmering ring there glided the Monarch of the Shadows. He was not at all black or gloomy. Not in the least—his manners were soft and engaging, and his robe was decorated with all kinds of delicate tints, brown and silver-grey, and violet shaded with faint blue and azure. All the fays bowed down reverently before him, because they knew he was the greatest Shadow in the land. Painters loved him and made charming pictures of him, and poets sang of him and wrote songs in his praise, and yet neither painter nor poet could tell how great, how magnificent and glorious he was.Troop by troop, rank and column, the Shadows came out of the ravines, valleys and dells, and from the clefts in the hill sides, and from amongst the rocks, and approached the King in due order and gave an account of their several missions.Some told how they had spent their time in sick rooms, where people lay tossing in pain, and how they had rested the eyes of many a weary sufferer,[273]and shielded them from the glaring light, and how sometimes they had gathered thickly round them and lulled them into health-giving sleep. Others spoke of travellers far from home, who, longing to see their wives and children or friends once more, had been comforted by the Shadows, who took upon themselves the dear home figures and the scenes of home.The mortal listened eagerly to every word uttered by these ministers of Nature. Hitherto he had believed that Beam and Shadow alike had no life, any more than the particles of dust beneath his feet, and were just as useless. What sick couch hadhevisited? What heart comforted? What good accomplished for the benefit of his kindred? Why, the very Shadows, dim and soulless as they were, had done more good than he had done, and Ready Money trembled as the thought came home to him. One grand fellow bent his tall form before the Shadow King and said that when the summer sun waxed hot and fierce over the Australian Continent he cast himself across the fiery pathway of the burning rays, thereby refreshing many a broiling citizen, and making cool and restful shade beneath tree and hill, and giving beauty to field and stream, by throwing lovely, translucent shadows over them, and so bringing out to full[274]perfection the form and colour of all created things.Then there advanced Shadows of a gloomier, darker hue. Drooping, careworn, and sorrow-laden, they had come from the houses of the very poor, from courts of justice, from prison cells where criminals sat in silence and despair. Many had come from homes where there was no love of parents; where wives and husbands were at strife; where fierce words, and cruel blows, and hard usage were the rule of daily death in life. Others had just left places of business, where men, who ought to know better, toiled year after year to increase their wealth, striving after gold, lying and cheating for it, holding it tightly when they had it, and shuddering as the time drew near when they must go hence and leave it all to others.If these Shadows, fresh from counting-houses and cobweb-covered chambers, wherein sat men faded and wan, as the colourless walls around them, if they had been the Shadow only of this listening mortal, they could hardly have presented a more realistic picture of his life in the past than they did in their report of others.Lying there powerless, there came upon him a strong desire to get back amongst his fellow-men if it were only for one short month—nay, but only[275]the length of a brief day; for in it what good might be done and what atonement made! Alas! for our resolution. Ready Money was fast held beneath the influence of the wand of Rubywings, and therefore could not budge.When the grim Shadows rested, there came an altogether merrier group upon the scene. These related how they had given their attention to schoolrooms, alarming idle boys and girls by bringing the Shadow of their teachers upon them just in the middle of a game of romps. Others again had had rare fun with naughty little folks who were going to help themselves to sugar and jam, by looking over their shoulders and making believe thatsome onewas coming.Next the house Shadows took their turn, and showed how they engaged themselves, by making pleasant figures on the floor and walls, dancing in the firelight, and playing bo-peep in the curtains on winter evenings. When all the reports were finished, the King called to the Wind to dismiss the Shadows.Then the Wind came, and the Shadows, ere they took their departure, amused themselves as they liked best. In the most surprising manner some played leap-frog, hide-and-seek, and blind-man’s-buff. Others raced along the sward and[276]up the side of the hills, like so many will-o’-the-wisps; many changing into all kinds of strange and fantastic shapes, until the silver light dimmed and died out, and the beautiful garden resumed its grandeur as before.And a change came o’er the slumbering mortal. Slowly he opened his eyes, but the fairy with her enchanting wand was not there, nor the flowers and trees. Nothing, save the high boundary wall of ice and the white-bearded Frost King standing near.“Resume thy earth-woven memories, O mortal!” he said in a grave, solemn tone. “Stand upright that I may touch thee. So! Go thy way for a brief season. In thy daily wanderings here and there thy former friends shall not recognise thee! From henceforth, Greed, Selfishness, Envy, and all of that nature that were dear to thee, shall become thy bitter foes. Remember what the Shadows said. Farewell!”Down, earthward, with tottering and uncertain step went the mortal; downward, along the broad, sunny pathway, where innumerable birds sang, and trees waved, and where the low, hoarse murmur of bread-winning millions ascended to the Creator.[277]

CHAPTER II.SHADOWS.

The old mortal, whom the fays had christened Ready Money, slept soundly in that island garden into which he had been guided by Rubywings. And as he slumbered, behold the Fairy Queen approached with a golden wand in her hand. She stood over him and gently waved the wand to and fro, when lo! the flowers around and about instantly assumed the shape of frolicsome sprites who formed themselves into a vast ring about him. Again Rubywings lifted her enchanted staff, and the trees receded backwards in the distance as so many drifting clouds athwart the horizon. And waving her wand for the third time, a sudden darkness shrouded the island save where the man reposed.Round that clear, circular space, bordered by the crowded ranks of the elves, there shone a brilliant, steady, silvery light, brighter than the sun and softer than a moonbeam.Rubywings stooped and whispered in the sleeper’s ear. And as she did so, the magic ring widened and widened out, until at length it appeared to encompass the whole landscape. The beautiful[272]light increased simultaneously with the wonderful expansion of the garden, thereby adding a tenfold beauty to every object upon which it rested.“Behold, mortal, this is the valley of the shadows. First lift thine eyes,” cried the fairy.Ready Money obeyed, and saw much clearer than with his waking sight. Into the shimmering ring there glided the Monarch of the Shadows. He was not at all black or gloomy. Not in the least—his manners were soft and engaging, and his robe was decorated with all kinds of delicate tints, brown and silver-grey, and violet shaded with faint blue and azure. All the fays bowed down reverently before him, because they knew he was the greatest Shadow in the land. Painters loved him and made charming pictures of him, and poets sang of him and wrote songs in his praise, and yet neither painter nor poet could tell how great, how magnificent and glorious he was.Troop by troop, rank and column, the Shadows came out of the ravines, valleys and dells, and from the clefts in the hill sides, and from amongst the rocks, and approached the King in due order and gave an account of their several missions.Some told how they had spent their time in sick rooms, where people lay tossing in pain, and how they had rested the eyes of many a weary sufferer,[273]and shielded them from the glaring light, and how sometimes they had gathered thickly round them and lulled them into health-giving sleep. Others spoke of travellers far from home, who, longing to see their wives and children or friends once more, had been comforted by the Shadows, who took upon themselves the dear home figures and the scenes of home.The mortal listened eagerly to every word uttered by these ministers of Nature. Hitherto he had believed that Beam and Shadow alike had no life, any more than the particles of dust beneath his feet, and were just as useless. What sick couch hadhevisited? What heart comforted? What good accomplished for the benefit of his kindred? Why, the very Shadows, dim and soulless as they were, had done more good than he had done, and Ready Money trembled as the thought came home to him. One grand fellow bent his tall form before the Shadow King and said that when the summer sun waxed hot and fierce over the Australian Continent he cast himself across the fiery pathway of the burning rays, thereby refreshing many a broiling citizen, and making cool and restful shade beneath tree and hill, and giving beauty to field and stream, by throwing lovely, translucent shadows over them, and so bringing out to full[274]perfection the form and colour of all created things.Then there advanced Shadows of a gloomier, darker hue. Drooping, careworn, and sorrow-laden, they had come from the houses of the very poor, from courts of justice, from prison cells where criminals sat in silence and despair. Many had come from homes where there was no love of parents; where wives and husbands were at strife; where fierce words, and cruel blows, and hard usage were the rule of daily death in life. Others had just left places of business, where men, who ought to know better, toiled year after year to increase their wealth, striving after gold, lying and cheating for it, holding it tightly when they had it, and shuddering as the time drew near when they must go hence and leave it all to others.If these Shadows, fresh from counting-houses and cobweb-covered chambers, wherein sat men faded and wan, as the colourless walls around them, if they had been the Shadow only of this listening mortal, they could hardly have presented a more realistic picture of his life in the past than they did in their report of others.Lying there powerless, there came upon him a strong desire to get back amongst his fellow-men if it were only for one short month—nay, but only[275]the length of a brief day; for in it what good might be done and what atonement made! Alas! for our resolution. Ready Money was fast held beneath the influence of the wand of Rubywings, and therefore could not budge.When the grim Shadows rested, there came an altogether merrier group upon the scene. These related how they had given their attention to schoolrooms, alarming idle boys and girls by bringing the Shadow of their teachers upon them just in the middle of a game of romps. Others again had had rare fun with naughty little folks who were going to help themselves to sugar and jam, by looking over their shoulders and making believe thatsome onewas coming.Next the house Shadows took their turn, and showed how they engaged themselves, by making pleasant figures on the floor and walls, dancing in the firelight, and playing bo-peep in the curtains on winter evenings. When all the reports were finished, the King called to the Wind to dismiss the Shadows.Then the Wind came, and the Shadows, ere they took their departure, amused themselves as they liked best. In the most surprising manner some played leap-frog, hide-and-seek, and blind-man’s-buff. Others raced along the sward and[276]up the side of the hills, like so many will-o’-the-wisps; many changing into all kinds of strange and fantastic shapes, until the silver light dimmed and died out, and the beautiful garden resumed its grandeur as before.And a change came o’er the slumbering mortal. Slowly he opened his eyes, but the fairy with her enchanting wand was not there, nor the flowers and trees. Nothing, save the high boundary wall of ice and the white-bearded Frost King standing near.“Resume thy earth-woven memories, O mortal!” he said in a grave, solemn tone. “Stand upright that I may touch thee. So! Go thy way for a brief season. In thy daily wanderings here and there thy former friends shall not recognise thee! From henceforth, Greed, Selfishness, Envy, and all of that nature that were dear to thee, shall become thy bitter foes. Remember what the Shadows said. Farewell!”Down, earthward, with tottering and uncertain step went the mortal; downward, along the broad, sunny pathway, where innumerable birds sang, and trees waved, and where the low, hoarse murmur of bread-winning millions ascended to the Creator.[277]

The old mortal, whom the fays had christened Ready Money, slept soundly in that island garden into which he had been guided by Rubywings. And as he slumbered, behold the Fairy Queen approached with a golden wand in her hand. She stood over him and gently waved the wand to and fro, when lo! the flowers around and about instantly assumed the shape of frolicsome sprites who formed themselves into a vast ring about him. Again Rubywings lifted her enchanted staff, and the trees receded backwards in the distance as so many drifting clouds athwart the horizon. And waving her wand for the third time, a sudden darkness shrouded the island save where the man reposed.

Round that clear, circular space, bordered by the crowded ranks of the elves, there shone a brilliant, steady, silvery light, brighter than the sun and softer than a moonbeam.

Rubywings stooped and whispered in the sleeper’s ear. And as she did so, the magic ring widened and widened out, until at length it appeared to encompass the whole landscape. The beautiful[272]light increased simultaneously with the wonderful expansion of the garden, thereby adding a tenfold beauty to every object upon which it rested.

“Behold, mortal, this is the valley of the shadows. First lift thine eyes,” cried the fairy.

Ready Money obeyed, and saw much clearer than with his waking sight. Into the shimmering ring there glided the Monarch of the Shadows. He was not at all black or gloomy. Not in the least—his manners were soft and engaging, and his robe was decorated with all kinds of delicate tints, brown and silver-grey, and violet shaded with faint blue and azure. All the fays bowed down reverently before him, because they knew he was the greatest Shadow in the land. Painters loved him and made charming pictures of him, and poets sang of him and wrote songs in his praise, and yet neither painter nor poet could tell how great, how magnificent and glorious he was.

Troop by troop, rank and column, the Shadows came out of the ravines, valleys and dells, and from the clefts in the hill sides, and from amongst the rocks, and approached the King in due order and gave an account of their several missions.

Some told how they had spent their time in sick rooms, where people lay tossing in pain, and how they had rested the eyes of many a weary sufferer,[273]and shielded them from the glaring light, and how sometimes they had gathered thickly round them and lulled them into health-giving sleep. Others spoke of travellers far from home, who, longing to see their wives and children or friends once more, had been comforted by the Shadows, who took upon themselves the dear home figures and the scenes of home.

The mortal listened eagerly to every word uttered by these ministers of Nature. Hitherto he had believed that Beam and Shadow alike had no life, any more than the particles of dust beneath his feet, and were just as useless. What sick couch hadhevisited? What heart comforted? What good accomplished for the benefit of his kindred? Why, the very Shadows, dim and soulless as they were, had done more good than he had done, and Ready Money trembled as the thought came home to him. One grand fellow bent his tall form before the Shadow King and said that when the summer sun waxed hot and fierce over the Australian Continent he cast himself across the fiery pathway of the burning rays, thereby refreshing many a broiling citizen, and making cool and restful shade beneath tree and hill, and giving beauty to field and stream, by throwing lovely, translucent shadows over them, and so bringing out to full[274]perfection the form and colour of all created things.

Then there advanced Shadows of a gloomier, darker hue. Drooping, careworn, and sorrow-laden, they had come from the houses of the very poor, from courts of justice, from prison cells where criminals sat in silence and despair. Many had come from homes where there was no love of parents; where wives and husbands were at strife; where fierce words, and cruel blows, and hard usage were the rule of daily death in life. Others had just left places of business, where men, who ought to know better, toiled year after year to increase their wealth, striving after gold, lying and cheating for it, holding it tightly when they had it, and shuddering as the time drew near when they must go hence and leave it all to others.

If these Shadows, fresh from counting-houses and cobweb-covered chambers, wherein sat men faded and wan, as the colourless walls around them, if they had been the Shadow only of this listening mortal, they could hardly have presented a more realistic picture of his life in the past than they did in their report of others.

Lying there powerless, there came upon him a strong desire to get back amongst his fellow-men if it were only for one short month—nay, but only[275]the length of a brief day; for in it what good might be done and what atonement made! Alas! for our resolution. Ready Money was fast held beneath the influence of the wand of Rubywings, and therefore could not budge.

When the grim Shadows rested, there came an altogether merrier group upon the scene. These related how they had given their attention to schoolrooms, alarming idle boys and girls by bringing the Shadow of their teachers upon them just in the middle of a game of romps. Others again had had rare fun with naughty little folks who were going to help themselves to sugar and jam, by looking over their shoulders and making believe thatsome onewas coming.

Next the house Shadows took their turn, and showed how they engaged themselves, by making pleasant figures on the floor and walls, dancing in the firelight, and playing bo-peep in the curtains on winter evenings. When all the reports were finished, the King called to the Wind to dismiss the Shadows.

Then the Wind came, and the Shadows, ere they took their departure, amused themselves as they liked best. In the most surprising manner some played leap-frog, hide-and-seek, and blind-man’s-buff. Others raced along the sward and[276]up the side of the hills, like so many will-o’-the-wisps; many changing into all kinds of strange and fantastic shapes, until the silver light dimmed and died out, and the beautiful garden resumed its grandeur as before.

And a change came o’er the slumbering mortal. Slowly he opened his eyes, but the fairy with her enchanting wand was not there, nor the flowers and trees. Nothing, save the high boundary wall of ice and the white-bearded Frost King standing near.

“Resume thy earth-woven memories, O mortal!” he said in a grave, solemn tone. “Stand upright that I may touch thee. So! Go thy way for a brief season. In thy daily wanderings here and there thy former friends shall not recognise thee! From henceforth, Greed, Selfishness, Envy, and all of that nature that were dear to thee, shall become thy bitter foes. Remember what the Shadows said. Farewell!”

Down, earthward, with tottering and uncertain step went the mortal; downward, along the broad, sunny pathway, where innumerable birds sang, and trees waved, and where the low, hoarse murmur of bread-winning millions ascended to the Creator.[277]

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