Frog sitting on a small toadstool and leaning against a large one and holding his belly
OH, who would be an old, old frog,With a cold in his headAnd no cosy bed?A-tish-oo!Oh, who would be a cross old frog,Who grumbles and growlsAll night to the owls?A-tish-oo!Oh, who would be a rude old frog,Who never says 'please,'Does nothing but sneeze?A-tish-oo!Oh, who would be a wet old frog,Who lives, as a rule,In a deep, deep pool?A-tish-oo!Oh, who would be a queer old frog,As hoarse as a crow?Would you?—Oh dear, no!A-tish-oo!
OH, who would be an old, old frog,With a cold in his headAnd no cosy bed?A-tish-oo!Oh, who would be a cross old frog,Who grumbles and growlsAll night to the owls?A-tish-oo!Oh, who would be a rude old frog,Who never says 'please,'Does nothing but sneeze?A-tish-oo!Oh, who would be a wet old frog,Who lives, as a rule,In a deep, deep pool?A-tish-oo!Oh, who would be a queer old frog,As hoarse as a crow?Would you?—Oh dear, no!A-tish-oo!
OH, who would be an old, old frog,With a cold in his headAnd no cosy bed?A-tish-oo!
OH, who would be an old, old frog,
With a cold in his head
And no cosy bed?
A-tish-oo!
Oh, who would be a cross old frog,Who grumbles and growlsAll night to the owls?A-tish-oo!
Oh, who would be a cross old frog,
Who grumbles and growls
All night to the owls?
A-tish-oo!
Oh, who would be a rude old frog,Who never says 'please,'Does nothing but sneeze?A-tish-oo!
Oh, who would be a rude old frog,
Who never says 'please,'
Does nothing but sneeze?
A-tish-oo!
Oh, who would be a wet old frog,Who lives, as a rule,In a deep, deep pool?A-tish-oo!
Oh, who would be a wet old frog,
Who lives, as a rule,
In a deep, deep pool?
A-tish-oo!
Oh, who would be a queer old frog,As hoarse as a crow?Would you?—Oh dear, no!A-tish-oo!
Oh, who would be a queer old frog,
As hoarse as a crow?
Would you?—Oh dear, no!
A-tish-oo!
Midsummer Eve
IN a few days' time it would be Midsummer Eve, and then the little fairies have a dance and supper all to themselves. Very few people have ever been there, and even fewer know anything at all about it. Only theverybest people receive invitations, and, of course, there are never very many of the best people in the world.
It is very hard indeed to be good, but—oh dear!—to be best! Why, it means being good, and going on being good, until you aresogood that Mother thinks something must be the matter with you and sends for the doctor.
Anyway, the fairies sent George an invitation, but he didn't understand what it meant, for it was written on an oak leaf which Puck blew in through the bedroom window. George thought it was only a common leaf and never picked it up.
"Well, has George answered his invitation yet?" said the old frog to Puck a few days before the dance.
"No," replied Puck, "he hasn't, but he's coming."
"Coming, indeed!" croaked the frog, who had just caught a worse cold than ever. "Well, I'll believe it when I see him, and not before."
"All right," said Puck. "You'd better go home, or else you won't be able to come to the party with that cold of yours."
There was such a bustling, a running about, a flying here and a flying there in the wood all day and all night getting ready for Midsummer Eve. Such a brushing and combing, such a sewing and darning, polishing and scrubbing, and I don't know what else! Such a baking and brewing, cooking, stewing, and such nice smells! Puck carried bits of these away in his pocket, and George had the most delightfuldreams of all the things he liked best to eat and drink.
Nurse smiled when he told her, and Alexander listened with his head a little on one side, hoping to hear the word 'biscuit' or 'bone.' His idea of a really good party was a pile of bones and biscuits, with leave to eat them on the drawing-room carpet. This is just as good fun as waiting outside on the stairs for the jellies and creams when there is a dinner-party at your house.
George had already forgotten about aeroplanes, and was very proud of being in trousers. When he first wore them he could not help looking down almost every minute to see if they were still there. The worst of wearing trousers is that you have to be so careful. Dogs like Alexanderwilljump and bump against them, leaving dirty paw-marks, just when you are not looking. Directly one begins to grow up there are really such a number of things one must think about.
George used to stand with his legs wide apart and his hands in his pockets like Father, until Nurse sewed the pockets up tight one night when he was fast asleep. Trousers without pockets are like jam tarts without jam.
George said nothing when he found it out, butin the garden after breakfast he remarked to Alexander: "When I grow up—reallygrow up—I am going to have pockets all over me, just as many as ever you can imagine. There will be so many that no one will ever be able to sew them up again."
Alexander nodded. After all, he might be able to keep his bones in a suit with as many pockets as that!
Midsummer Eve came at last. Everything was ready in the wood; even the old frog's cold was better, though he was still rather hoarse. The fairy ring was as smooth as velvet, and the fairy band had learned quite a number of new tunes.
Puck was as busy as he could be, and whenever there was a moment to spare he brought another piece of moss for the seat which he had been making for George. It was right in the middle of the wood in a little open space with high trees all round it. Whenever the wind came the trees rustled softly, and it sounded just as if they were putting their heads together and whispering secrets. Most of these trees were very old; so old that they had grown quite bent, and their long, twisted boughs hung down almost to the ground.
On Midsummer Eve the moon always shines brightly, and lights up the fairy ring with a soft, silvery light. No one knows whether Puck asks her to do it, but if you will look out of your window—if you can wake up at the right moment—you will see for yourself that it is quite true, for so many of the best things always happen while we are fast asleep in bed.
George went to bed as usual. Alexander flopped down on the mat outside the door and curled himself up. One by one the lights in the house went out, and soon everybody was fast asleep. It was as still as still can be.
Far, far off sounded the first notes of the fairy music. Alexander pricked up one ear for a second, then sighed and fell fast asleep again.
George turned over in his bed and began to snore. Puck flew in through the half-open window and rested for a moment on his pillow.
"It's all ready, George," he whispered. "We're only waiting for you!"
George snored a little louder.
"George!" cried Puck, "George, come along! Don't be late!"
George was dreaming. He was dreaming that he was in school saying the multiplication table, twice times, three times, and some of fourtimes. He actually wasn't thinking about the fairies at all!
Puck sat for a moment thinking what he should do; then he flew out through the window and back to the wood.
The multiplication table, indeed! No one ever thinks of such things on Midsummer Eve. It is a time to dream of dancing, music, light, laughter, the wind in the trees, thetinkle, tinkleof water in the little brooks, the song of birds—they are all awake then—of almost anything else, butnottwice times two.
The fairies were just beginning to dance when Puck flew into the middle of the ring, and he looked so angry that they all stopped, wondering what could have happened.
He could say nothing at first but "twice times four is ten," which is nonsense, but he had never learned his tables and never wanted to. He said this over and over again, just as if it were a rhyme, and they all listened, though they did not understand a bit what it meant.
"Oh, ho!" said the old frog, who was sitting there puffing himself out as if he were trying to turn himself into a toy balloon. "Oh, ho! I see what it is. George won't come after all. I told you so. Oh, ho! Oh, ho!"
"For shame!" all the fairies cried out. "For shame! Nasty old thing! You're quite glad he isn't coming."
Puck sat with his head in his hands, thinking and whispering to himself, "Three times four are seven," which was worse than ever.
The fairies feltsosorry for him. They all came and sat round him in a ring with their little heads in their hands. They did not know why he was doing this, but they did it to cheer him up. The old frog sat puffing, just as if some one had wound him up like a clockwork toy and he wasn't able to stop.
After a long time Puck looked up and said: "Well, it's no use waiting. He won't come to-night."
The old frog was so pleased when he heard this that he opened his mouth to say "I told you so," but he had puffed himself out to such a size that he fell over backward suddenly into a pool with a great splash, and never spoke another word for the rest of the evening.
"No, he won't come," said Puck, "it's no use waiting. I always thought he would learn to believe in us after a time, but he won't, hewon't!" And he spun himself round on oneleg like lightning a hundred times without stopping. He was really angry!
The fairies all spun themselves round on one leg too, but this made them so dizzy that they fell over one another in heaps, and for a few minutes they really didn't know whether they were on their heads or their heels. At last they were all right side up again, wondering what it was all about.
"Let's go on with the dance now!" cried Puck. "I'll tell you all about it to-morrow."
The fairy music began again; the fairies danced round the ring, and all the animals in the wood came out to watch them. The moon looked on with a smile; she was always very fond of the fairies, and never minded shining a little longer than usual if the fairies wanted to go on dancing.
At midnight they were ready for supper. First of all they had—but wait a bit!—it is not time to tell you about that yet, with George snoring away in bed, and saying his tables over and over to himself.
After supper they danced again, and acted a little play in which they pretended to be grown-up people at a party.
One fairy pretended to be Alexander, and barked "Wuff! Wuff!" so like him that all the rabbits ran back into their holes in a fright. It was delightful to hear the tinkle of the fairy laughter.
If you strike a glass very,verysoftly with a spoon several times, that sounds something like a fairy laughing—but not quite.
Puck had forgotten about George now, and was enjoying himself as much as the rest of them. He pretended that he was an aeroplane, and flew round and round until he looked as if he would fly away for good.
Then he turned head over heels ever so many times until you could hardly see him. Then he pretended to be the old frog, "Oh, ho! Oh, ho!" and puffed himself out and coughed until the fairies nearly died of laughing.
By and by the moon began to disappear behind a cloud. This was her polite way of saying that it was time for her to go to bed, because the sun was just getting up.
The party was at an end; and soon over the top of the hill peeped the sun, very red in the face, ready to begin his day's work.
FROMgossamer and flowers' bloomThe fairies weaveTheir dainty little handkerchiefs,I do believe.And so ... and so ...Whene'er they want to blow their nosesThey merely sniff their fragrant posies.'Tis different quite for you and me,For all of us,Who aren't grown up—for Nurse alwaysMakes such a fuss.Oh dear! Oh dear!She says I'm in complete disgraceIf I forget to wash my face.And noses, so she always says,Were made to blow.She's very old and very wise,And ought to know.I wish ... I wish ...Sometimes I hadn't any nose.And yet Imusthave one—so I suppose.
FROMgossamer and flowers' bloomThe fairies weaveTheir dainty little handkerchiefs,I do believe.And so ... and so ...Whene'er they want to blow their nosesThey merely sniff their fragrant posies.'Tis different quite for you and me,For all of us,Who aren't grown up—for Nurse alwaysMakes such a fuss.Oh dear! Oh dear!She says I'm in complete disgraceIf I forget to wash my face.And noses, so she always says,Were made to blow.She's very old and very wise,And ought to know.I wish ... I wish ...Sometimes I hadn't any nose.And yet Imusthave one—so I suppose.
FROMgossamer and flowers' bloomThe fairies weaveTheir dainty little handkerchiefs,I do believe.And so ... and so ...Whene'er they want to blow their nosesThey merely sniff their fragrant posies.
FROMgossamer and flowers' bloom
The fairies weave
Their dainty little handkerchiefs,
I do believe.
And so ... and so ...
Whene'er they want to blow their noses
They merely sniff their fragrant posies.
'Tis different quite for you and me,For all of us,Who aren't grown up—for Nurse alwaysMakes such a fuss.Oh dear! Oh dear!She says I'm in complete disgraceIf I forget to wash my face.
'Tis different quite for you and me,
For all of us,
Who aren't grown up—for Nurse always
Makes such a fuss.
Oh dear! Oh dear!
She says I'm in complete disgrace
If I forget to wash my face.
And noses, so she always says,Were made to blow.She's very old and very wise,And ought to know.I wish ... I wish ...Sometimes I hadn't any nose.And yet Imusthave one—so I suppose.
And noses, so she always says,
Were made to blow.
She's very old and very wise,
And ought to know.
I wish ... I wish ...
Sometimes I hadn't any nose.
And yet Imusthave one—so I suppose.
Dream-Music
WHETHER it was the cakes or the fireworks, no one ever knew. Father said that it must have been the cakes. Nurse thought it was the fireworks. The doctor, who came in a little motor-car with just room for himself inside, shook his head and looked very solemn.
George was not well and was kept in bed. The doctor sent a large bottle of medicine, and Nurse shook the bottle very hard before giving George two large tablespoonfuls. Alexander sat at the end of the bed and looked on. Perhaps he thought he ought tohave some medicine too, for he was always ready to taste anything, and even a tin of boot polish didn't seem to disagree with him. There were very few things that he hadn't tasted.
The doctor came every morning for four days, and every morning his little motorpuff-puffedoutside the garden gate whilst he went upstairs into the bedroom where George was, and said: "Well, and how are we this morning? A little better, eh?"
But George always said that he felt a little worse, and wanted to get up and go out for a walk with Alexander. He was cross with everybody, and at last Mother thought he must be really ill.
She sat by his bed and read stories to him; sometimes he listened, and sometimes he just kicked his legs about in bed and said: "Oh,dolet me get up. I hate being in bed."
"Youmustbe good, George dear," said Mother, "or else you will never get well."
It was no good. George wouldn't even listen to Nurse now, so it was not a bit of use talking.
He wouldn't take his medicine; he wouldn't lie quiet. He did everything he ought not to do. Even Alexander looked as if he wouldlike to cry, and never once wagged his tail. This showed how sorry he felt for himself and for everybody else.
At last George was so tired that, as it was growing dark, he fell asleep. Nurse sat by the side of his bed with a large pair of spectacles on, knitting a pair of stockings.
As fast as she knitted stockings for George he wore them out, but she didn't seem to mind. What the boys do who haven't got nurses it is difficult to say. Think of all the stockings there must be in the world with holes in their heels and toes and knees! It was quite quiet. Nurse sat as still as still could be; if her fingers hadn't been moving all the time you would have thought she was fast asleep.
It grew darker and darker, until at last the moon came out from behind a cloud and shone through the window. It was just the kind of night on which the fairies love to be dancing in the wood. Perhaps they were.
"What a splendid sleep you've had, darling," said Mother, as she kissed George next morning.
George sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. "I've hadsucha dream!" he began.
"Won't you tell me all about it?" asked Mother.
George thought for a long time, then shook his head. "It's all gone again," he said. "I can only just remember that I went for a long walk with Alexander, and we came to such a wonderful place. I think I met Nurse there, but she looked quite different ... and yet she was just the same."
Nurse smiled.
"Were you really there?" asked George.
"Perhaps," she replied. "Now it's time for your medicine."
By the time he had finished his medicine George had forgotten about the dream, but he kept remembering it in bits all day long.
Alexander looked delighted when George was allowed to get up and come into the garden. Perhaps he knew all about the dream, for he would often stop when he was digging up a bone, and look as if he were trying to remember something.
Dogs have splendid dreams sometimes. When they give short little barks in their sleep they must be chasing cats. But what do cats dream about?
The doctor did not look at all solemn to-day.He sat in the garden and talked to George about motor-cars and aeroplanes. But George was all the time trying to remember his dream, and told the doctor little bits of it whenever he remembered.
"Do you believe in fairies?" George asked the doctor suddenly.
"Fairies?" said the doctor. "Well,youbelieve in them, don't you?"
"I don't know," replied George. "I think my dream last night was about fairies, but they weren't very like the fairies in the books I read. Is there arealFairyland?"
"Well, you see," replied the doctor, looking very solemn again, "you really ought to go there and find out."
"Buthowcan I find out," asked George, "if I don't know whether there is a Fairyland or not? How can I find the way there?"
The doctor scratched his head. "Well, I expect Nurse or Mother will tell you all about it," he said.
"Nurse always answers, 'Perhaps there is and perhaps there isn't.' I don't believe any of you really know at all," cried George.
The doctor shook his head, looked as if he were going to say something, then smiled andsaid: "Perhaps!—that's just what we've all got to find out about a great many things, George. If you really want to find the way there, I expect you will. Only you must wish hard, as hard as ever you can!" and with a laugh he went down the garden path, stepped into his motor, andpuff-puffedaway.
"I don't believe there are any fairies," said George, with a stamp of his foot. "It's just silly nonsense, and they only say that there are fairies to tease me."
Puck was sitting on a toadstool watching the little fairies, who were having a flying race. They flew round and round and up and down, and the colours of their little wings were as beautiful as the most beautiful rainbow. Maybe the rainbow is made out of fairies' wings.
When they were tired they all fluttered down to the ground again and sat down on the grass in a ring. They love to sit like this, because most of the good games are played when one sits round in a ring. The fairies are never tired of playing games. Even their work is play to them, and so they never need to go to school.
No one ever heard of a fairy schoolmaster orschoolmistress. If there were such people, they would be playing all the time, and so they couldn't possibly be teachers.
They had forgotten all about George, for they really believed by now that there was not a boy of that name at all. When grown-up people forget about the fairies, is it because they are getting old and thinking about what they should eat and drink, and what clothes they should wear? The fairies know that grown-ups do these silly things, and don't mind, but children ought to know better. The fairies were not playing a game just then. They were listening to Puck, who was telling them a story. It is hard to guess what the story was about, for the fairies do not have fairy stories. What seems so wonderful to us is only what happens to them every day, and so whoever tells a story in Fairyland must think of something quite different.
They enjoyed the story very much, for they laughed and clapped their hands, and even the old frog forgot his cold.
"To-night! To-night!" they all cried when Puck had finished, and then they all danced round and round so fast that it would have hurt your eyes to look at them.
The moon shone more brightly than ever that night. The sky was covered with bright, twinkling stars, and a soft, warm breeze rustled through the tops of the trees in the wood.
George would have loved to go for a walk, but he was tucked up safely in bed, and Alexander was lying on the mat outside his door. Nurse had left him alone for some time, and he couldn't get to sleep. He wanted to dream again and go back to that wonderful country of which he remembered so little.
He tossed about on his pillow, wishing that he were outside in the garden or anywhere except in bed. He could hear the old clock outside on the landing,tick, tock, tick, tock, and now and again Alexander gave a little bark which showed that he was fast asleep and dreaming.
Suddenly he heard another sound. It seemed to be far off, but little by little it sounded nearer and nearer.
"It's just as if somebody were blowing little trumpets," thought George to himself. "I wonder where it can be?"
The sound of the music floated in the air, died away, and then, more sweetly than ever, echoed and echoed until it seemed as if it might indeed be fairy music.
"I must get up and see what it is," said George. "It might be soldiers, though they don't seem to have a drum."
He jumped quickly out of bed and went to the window. There was nothing to be seen, not even a shadow on the lawn.
"That's very queer," thought George. "I wonder that Alexander hasn't heard it."
After waiting for a few minutes he got back into bed, and scarcely had he laid his head on the pillow when far, far away sounded the fairy music.
"Lovely! Lovely!" murmured George. "It must come from that country I dreamed about last night."
IFyou would view the fairy rout,And see them dance and twirl about,Then turn your jacket inside out.But hush! Be silent—not a sound!They'll pinch you—yes!—if you are foundWithout their leave on fairy ground.They'll pinch you black, they'll pinch you blue,Green, yellow, red, and every hue!Remember what I'm telling you!* * *Anddon'trunround the fairyring in the wrongdirection—Widershins—the opposite way to the sun. It isever so dangerous! Don't forget this.
IFyou would view the fairy rout,And see them dance and twirl about,Then turn your jacket inside out.But hush! Be silent—not a sound!They'll pinch you—yes!—if you are foundWithout their leave on fairy ground.They'll pinch you black, they'll pinch you blue,Green, yellow, red, and every hue!Remember what I'm telling you!* * *Anddon'trunround the fairyring in the wrongdirection—Widershins—the opposite way to the sun. It isever so dangerous! Don't forget this.
IFyou would view the fairy rout,And see them dance and twirl about,Then turn your jacket inside out.
IFyou would view the fairy rout,
And see them dance and twirl about,
Then turn your jacket inside out.
But hush! Be silent—not a sound!They'll pinch you—yes!—if you are foundWithout their leave on fairy ground.
But hush! Be silent—not a sound!
They'll pinch you—yes!—if you are found
Without their leave on fairy ground.
They'll pinch you black, they'll pinch you blue,Green, yellow, red, and every hue!Remember what I'm telling you!
They'll pinch you black, they'll pinch you blue,
Green, yellow, red, and every hue!
Remember what I'm telling you!
* * *
* * *
Anddon'trunround the fairyring in the wrongdirection—Widershins—the opposite way to the sun. It isever so dangerous! Don't forget this.
And
don'trun
round the fairy
ring in the wrong
direction—Widershins—
the opposite way to the sun. It is
ever so dangerous! Don't forget this.
The Land of Dreams
IT was still, so still in the wood that you could have heard a pin drop. One doesn't usually drop pins in a wood, but on the floor, or on a chair, or somewhere else where they are sure to run into you just when you are not expecting anything of the kind.
There was not a breath of wind; the trees, standing in rows like giant sentinels, seemed to be waiting for somebody. Who could it be?
A lovely path of soft green moss ran through this wood from one end of it to the other. Far away one could see a little patch of blue. This was the sky. The trees were so highthat they formed a roof overhead and shut out nearly all the light.
By and by there was a joyful bark, and dashing through the wood came a black dog with his tail waving behind him. It was Alexander! Hewasenjoying himself.
George came hurrying along after him. Though he had been running for quite a long time he didn't seem to be a little bit tired. His cheeks were rosy, his eyes were bright, and he sang aloud for joy. He was so glad to be out with Alexander once more.
"Wait for me, Alexander!" he cried. "Wait for me. Don't be in such a hurry!"
Alexander came bounding toward him, and after chasing one another in and out of among the trees they threw themselves down on the soft moss to rest for a moment.
"I think I should like to lie here all day," said George. "I don't remember coming to this part of the wood before. I wonder how we got here. Do you know, Alexander?"
"I brought you here, little George," said Alexander—at least, it sounded as if he had said that, and for a moment George thought he had really spoken.
"That would be fun," he thought to himselfas he lay back with his head against the trunk of a tree. "What would they say if I went home and said that Alexander had been talking to me?"
Suddenly, far, far off he heard the music again. It seemed to be calling, calling to him: "Come, little boy, come and dance and play! The sun is shining; the soft wind is blowing. Come and play with us!"
"What nonsense!" said George aloud. "I must be dreaming again. I wonder if the doctor gave me that medicine to make me dream. What was it he said to me about Fairyland?"
"Wish as hard as ever you can!" said Alexander.
George was so startled when he heard Alexander speak for the second time that he fell down backward. Then he sat up slowly and looked at him. The dear black dog was sitting up, looking at George with—yes!—asmileon his face, and wagging his tail gently to and fro.
"Now am I dreaming or not?" said George.
Alexander still smiled and wagged his tail, but he said never a word this time.
"Come on!" cried George, and he ran down the path as hard as ever he could.
He ran and ran until suddenly he found himself right out of the wood and in the midst of a most beautiful meadow. A little stream of clear blue water flowed gently along past banks carpeted with flowers. There must have been hundreds of them, and every one a different colour.
The sun was shining as he had never seen it shine before, and yet he did not feel a bit too hot.
He looked around him, but there was no one to be seen. The only sound was the softgurgle, gurgleof the stream flowing over the stones. He lay down by the side of it, and hollowing his hands to make a cup, dipped them in the water; then, raising them to his mouth, took a deep, delicious drink.
George drank again and yet again; then, lying face downward, gazed into the stream. It was full of little fishes; golden, silver—there were so many that he could not even count them, and each was more beautiful than the other.
"This is jolly!" he thought. "It's just like a piece out of a story, only better."
He rose to his feet and stood for a moment thinking. "I know; I want to cross the stream," he said, when—lo and behold!—just in front of him there was a little bridge, exactly wide enough for one person at a time. He crossed it with Alexander at his heels; then, turning round to look back, found that the bridge had vanished!
This was a curious thing to happen, but George hadn't time to wait. He wanted to go on and on and find out where the wonderful music came from.
"Wu-uff!" barked Alexander, and it sounded for all the world as if he were saying: "What fun, George! What fun!"
On they dashed, first George in front and then his dog. Right across the meadow they went, and suddenly found themselves on a broad white road which went winding and winding along as far as ever you could see.
"This is like 'Over the hills and far away,'" laughed George. "Come on, old boy!" And on they ran again, so fast that the road looked as if it were unwinding itself quickly like a ball of ribbon.
"I expect we shall soon get there now," saidGeorge. "We must be miles and miles away from home."
The road grew narrower and narrower until it became quite a little path, and this path led them up to a little green gate, which appeared suddenly in front of them as if it had popped up out of the ground.
"This must lead to just where I want to go," said George. He was quite accustomed to talking aloud now. Somehow his voice sounded different, and he felt as if hemusttalk, for it seemed as if some one—he didn't know who—was listening to him all the time.
Across the top of the gate was written in shining letters "Please open me."
George pushed it open and walked through; then he saw that on the other side was "Please shut me." He shut it carefully behind him and walked on.
Once more, in front of him, sounded the music, but clearer and louder, as if it were only round the corner—but there was no corner.
THERE STOOD A DELIGHTFUL LITTLE HOUSE
THERE STOOD A DELIGHTFUL LITTLE HOUSE
THERE STOOD A DELIGHTFUL LITTLE HOUSE
He found himself in a narrow, shady glade. The trees, the grass, everything was a cool, delicious green. It was like looking down a long tunnel lighted by a soft green light. The little path went straight down-hill asfar as one could see, and never seemed to end.
George was beginning to wonder where he was going to, and if he had not wanted to find out about the music he would have turned back, for it felt like tea-time. He could not remember at what hour he had started out; nor how he had got into the wood; nor did he know how he was going to find his way back. But he knew that it was close upon tea-time, which is quite a different feeling from breakfast and lunch-time, as you all know.
"I wish there was a house here," he thought. "I should like tea with plenty of jam and cake."
There was really no end to the surprises of this most wonderful day. The path went straight—as if it had been told—into a wide open space, and there stood a delightful little house with smoke curling up from its chimneys.
George stood still for a moment and looked at it with eyes wide open in surprise. Alexander rushed forward, barking joyfully, and jumped against the door.
George followed him, and then stood stillagain, for painted on the door in tiny letters was GEORGE'SHOUSE.
"How funny!" he thought. "There must be another George living here. I hope he will be kind and give me tea."
He lifted the latch and walked inside. There was no one there, but in the middle of the most comfortable little room stood a table with the cloth laid; tea, bread and butter, cake, jam (two kinds)—quite a birthday tea, in fact.
Alexander was already seated in one of the chairs as if he were in the nursery at home and eager to begin.
"Well!" said George, "thisisnice!" And before you could count 'two' he had seated himself at the table, poured out a cup of tea, and was spreading strawberry jam on to a large piece of fresh bread and butter. How they both enjoyed themselves! There never was such a tea!
When they had eaten all they could there was still plenty left on the table. It almost looked as if some one had been cutting bread and butter and cake for them all the time.
George remembered to say his grace, and then, all of a sudden, he felt very sleepy.
"It's not nearly bed-time yet, but I wonder if there's a bedroom. I should like to lie down just for a minute or two," he said. Alexander yawned and stretched himself.
George looked round, and there in the corner he saw a stair, so up he went and found himself in a little bedroom. The bed looked so comfortable that he lay down on it, while Alexander curled himself up at the foot with a sigh of content.
The wind blew gently in through the window, bringing with it the scent of sweet flowers. Really it was just like asking George to go to sleep.
He closed his eyes, and in a moment was far away in the Land of Dreams.
Once more was heard the strain of music, sweet and clear, and with it, wafted on the wings of the wind, came the sound of hundreds of tiny little voices laughing.
HEREwe come.Hark the drum!Rum-ti-tum!Here we goIn a row,Tip-i-toe.Silence keepWhilst we peep.He's asleep.Leave him this,A fairy kiss,Dreams of bliss.Round and roundSoftly fly,Singing sweetlyLullaby.
HEREwe come.Hark the drum!Rum-ti-tum!Here we goIn a row,Tip-i-toe.Silence keepWhilst we peep.He's asleep.Leave him this,A fairy kiss,Dreams of bliss.Round and roundSoftly fly,Singing sweetlyLullaby.
HEREwe come.Hark the drum!Rum-ti-tum!
HEREwe come.
Hark the drum!
Rum-ti-tum!
Here we goIn a row,Tip-i-toe.
Here we go
In a row,
Tip-i-toe.
Silence keepWhilst we peep.He's asleep.
Silence keep
Whilst we peep.
He's asleep.
Leave him this,A fairy kiss,Dreams of bliss.
Leave him this,
A fairy kiss,
Dreams of bliss.
Round and roundSoftly fly,Singing sweetlyLullaby.
Round and round
Softly fly,
Singing sweetly
Lullaby.
Father Time
GEORGE dreamed that night as he had never dreamed before. It was a curious dream, full of dragons, giants, fairies, aeroplanes, motor-cars, all mixed up together. But all the time he half remembered where he was and kept thinking: "I am in bed in the little house that belongs to George, and it must be a dream-house. If it is, then I am dreaming inside a dream."
Every time he thought this he woke up—or seemed to wake up—and then fell asleep again. Alexander dreamed about large bones and crackly biscuits. That was the kind of dream he liked best.
Morning came—but perhaps there had never been any night—and George really awoke, sat up, and rubbed his eyes. The sun was shining through the window, and Alexander had gone.
He washed his face and hands and went downstairs. The table was laid for breakfast with porridge and cream—a jug full!—eggs and bacon, toast, rolls hot from the oven, fresh butter, jam, and marmalade.
The Mr George who lived in this housewasa nice person to know. George felt that he would like to stay here for quite a long time if he could only send a message to Mother and let her know where he was.
He sat down feeling quite delighted at having breakfast all by himself, and just as he was drinking his second cup of tea the door opened and in came Alexander.
"Oh, where have you been?" cried George. "Don't you want any breakfast?"
"Wuff! Wuff!" replied Alexander, which meant: "Don't ask me silly questions like that, but give me something to eat."
He ate a good breakfast and drank a whole saucerful of milk, which he hardly ever got at home.
After breakfast George thought it was timeto start again. He had quite forgotten about going home now. It seemed quite the right thing to put on his cap and set off again to—where, goodness only knows!
Alexander stood waiting by the door, and George said aloud: "Thank you, Mr George, for your kindness," just to show that he hadn't forgotten his manners; then they went out into the bright sunshine.
George's House stood in a lovely little spot. Birds called to one another from the branches of the high trees; rabbits scuttled in and out of their holes, played hide-and-seek, and even flopped just under Alexander's nose.
George took a deep breath: "Oh, I am enjoying myself," he cried. "Aren't you, Alexander?"
"Ra-ther!" barked Alexander, and ran round and round chasing his tail while all the rabbits sat and watched him. It certainly did seem as if he had spoken that time—but no!—it wasn't possible!
Off they went again. There were sure to be more adventures if one only kept on and on to the end of the wood. Little paths ran in all directions, and each one looked greener and nicer than the other.
"I expect they all go to the same place in the end," said George, and so, without waiting for a moment, he ran as hard as he could down the nearest at hand. It twisted and turned in all directions; sometimes it seemed as if it were turning round and coming all the way back again. At last it gave quite a little jump and went straight ahead.
They walked and ran, and ran and walked by turns; it grew lighter and lighter until they could see the sun shining on the—yes, it was!—the sea.
Now, if there is one place which is jollier than all the others it is the seashore on a sunny day. There is always paddling, bathing, digging, making castles and lakes; besides, the fun of getting caught by a splashy wave is worth while getting wet twice over.
Hurrah for the sea! You could almost hear it calling, for in the summer-time all the little boy-waves love to play with their friends the human boys. Dogs are welcome too if they will swim in after sticks.
In another moment George and Alexander were out of the wood and on the seashore. Such miles of hard yellow sand as far as onecould see, and a sea as blue, or even bluer than the sky.
Off came George's clothes, and in he splashed with Alexander after him. The water was as warm as toast, and made him feel like having five minutes more every time he thought of coming out.
George dried himself in the sun and put on his clothes, while Alexander rolled about in the sand and shook himself until he looked like a great mop with all its hair on end. But after a bathe there are usually biscuits, and there were certainly none here.
"I expect we shall find some," said George. "If we don't, we must go back to George's House and have dinner."
He turned to walk up the beach toward the long sand-hills which ran in a line along the shore, and there, sitting not far off him, he saw an old man. This old man had white hair, not very much of it, and a long beard which flowed down to his knees. He was holding something in his hand; George could not see what it was.
"Perhaps he's lost his way. Come on, Alexander; we'll go and ask him," said George.
He was quite a nice old man, and smiledsuch a kind smile when George took off his cap politely and said: "Good-morning."
"Good-morning, little George," he answered.
"I say, do you know my name?" asked George in surprise. "Oh, are you the Mr George who lives in that little house in the wood, because I slept there. This is Alexander, my dog; he was there with me. He's a very well-behaved dog unless he sees a cat or a rabbit, and then it's an awful bother to get him back. Have you got a dog? And what is that thing you have in your hand? Oh, I forgot I was never to ask more than one question at a time. I am very sorry I was rude."
The old man smiled again. "No, my name is not George. The little house belongs to—well, you will find that out by and by. I haven't a dog of my own, but I know all about dogs. This is an hour-glass. It tells the time. You see the sand trickling down from one glass into the other. When all the sand has trickled through I turn the glass over, and it begins all over again."
"Oh, I say, how jolly!" cried George. "May I look? I've seen an hour-glass in a picture-book I have at home, but this is a real one, isn't it?"
"Quite real," answered the old man; "as real as you are, little George."
George gazed at the hour-glass for some time; then suddenly he remembered something. "Why, I know who is holding the hour-glass in the picture," he said. "It's Father Time.... Oh, you look just like him! Are you Father Time, please?"
"Well, that is what people call me," said Father Time, stroking his long beard and looking at George with a queer look, as if he were trying to see right inside him.
"Then you canreallyfly?" asked George. "Nurse always says that 'Time flies.' I don't see your wings ... but perhaps you don't need any," he added politely.
Father Time smiled very kindly, and spoke in a very soft, gentle voice: "Yes, I fly, and I have wings, though you cannot see them. The young people think that I fly far too slowly, and when they are grown up they think I fly too quickly.... But the sand in my hour-glass is always falling, falling, never quickly, never slowly."
"And do you have to look after all the clocks in the world?" asked George. "There are ever so many. We've got six in our house,and Father and Mother have got watches as well."
"Yes," replied Father Time. "It gives me a great deal of work, but if it were not for me you wouldn't have any clocks and watches."
"Oh, that would be queer!" exclaimed George. "We should never know if it was time to go to bed or time to get up. Nurse wouldn't like that, for she loves everything to be 'on the tick,' she says. 'A stitch in time saves nine' is what she is always telling me."
"A great many people say that," answered Father Time. "If everybody remembered it, my old cloak wouldn't be as ragged as it is," and he showed George a number of holes and tears which certainly looked as if they needed mending.
Alexander whined and then barked: "Come on, don't talk so much, please!"
"Down, Alexander!" cried George. "We're going in a minute. Oh, please, can you tell me the way to——" And then he stopped, for he really didn't know where he wanted to go to.
"You had better go up the road over there," said Father Time, pointing. "You will find a finger-post which will show you the way. You can't miss it; it is quite easy to find. Good-bye!"
"Oh, wait a minute!" cried George, for old Time was already some way off. He turned and waved his hand.
"Time waits for no man!" he said. "Follow your fortune, little George!"
"Heisa funny old man," thought George. "Follow my fortune? Whatever does he mean?"
Far, far off, he heard the sweet music once again. It sounded more inviting than ever. "It's like the story of Dick Whittington, only he had a cat and not a dog. I believe the music is saying: 'Follow your fortune, your fortune, oh, follow!' Come and look for the finger-post, Alexander!" And he ran up the sands toward the road.
Puck flew into the wood. "He's here!" he cried.
The fairies danced round him in delight. "Hurrah!" they cried. "Hurrah!" sounds different altogether and much nicer in their language. "Tell us all about it!"
So Puck sat down and told them all about George's adventures right from the beginning. If you have not remembered everything you must turn back and read it all again for yourself.
"Ker-ek!" croaked the old frog. "But what's all this about Father Time? How do you know he met Time. I don't believe it!" and then he nearly fell backward in surprise, for there stood the old man in front of him.
"Now do you believe?" said Puck's voice, and the fairies burst out laughing, for it was Puck himself all the time!
When the old frog had stopped coughing Father Time had disappeared, and Puck sat there smiling.
"What a clever Puck I am!" he cried, turning head over heels.