Fairy Book Part 6

When she heard the evening-bells from the minster, she said, "Oh, they are like the joy-bells at home, only not so sweet. Nothing, here, is so sweet. Even my dear mamma is not so lovely as the lady who comes when I am asleep."

Little One--they called her Little One for the want of a name--loved to prattle about the wonders of that mysterious fairy-land, which no one but herself had ever seen. Her mother would not check her, but let her tell her pretty visions of remembered rainbows, and palaces, and precious gems. She said,--

"The child has such a vivid fancy! It is not all of us who can see pictures when our eyes are shut."

But the lord was not so well pleased; and once, when his daughter looked at a frozen stream and murmured, "_We_ have the _happiest_ rivers at home; they sing all day long, all the year, without freezing! Can I find that Summer-land again! Oh, I would creep all over the world to seek it," he replied,--

"Little One, it is some cloud-city you are thinking of, some dream-land, or isle of Long Ago, which you will never see again. I beg you to forget these wild fancies."

But still the child dreamed on. Once she heard the glad song of the Hyperboreans:--

"I come from a land in the sun-bright deep, Where golden gardens glow; Where the winds of the North, becalmed in sleep, Their conch-sh.e.l.ls never blow."

She clapped her hands, murmuring to herself,--

"_There_ is my home! I think I remember now it _was_ 'a land in the sun-bright deep!'"

So, when she journeyed with her parents to distant countries, she always hoped that some s.h.i.+p would bear her away to the Happy Isles; and when they once touched a bright sh.o.r.e, and some one cried, "The isles of Greece! the isles of Greece!" she thought she was home at last, and hardly dared look at the remembered sh.o.r.e. But, alas, she had not yet reached the Summer-land: this was not her home.

Then she heard her father say that the jewels she wore had been brought up from the deep places under the earth.

"I wonder I had not thought of that," she said to herself. "Since there are such beautiful gems in my lost home, it must lie under the earth. No doubt if I could only find the right cave, and walk in it far enough, I should come to the Summer-land."

So she set out, one day, in wild haste, but only lost herself in a deep cavern; and, when she found daylight again, she was all alone upon the face of the earth. Her father and mother were nowhere to be seen. She shouted their names, and ran to and fro seeking them till her strength was all spent. It was growing dark; and Little One could only creep under a shelter, and weep herself asleep.

Next morning it was no better, but far worse. Her wretched parents had gone home, believing her drowned in the sea. Poor Little One was now all alone in the world, and her heart ached with the cold. Kind friends gave her food and shelter, and her clothing was warm as warm could be; still her heart ached with the cold. People praised her beauty so much that she dared not look up to let them see how lovely she was; but she had lost both her father and mother, and her heart ached and ached. She thought winter was coming on; and the world was growing so chilly, that now she must certainly set out for the Summer-land. Then she said,--

"If I am a sylphid, perhaps my home is over the hills, and far away.

Yes: I think it must be in the country where the music goes."

For she thought, when she heard music, that it seemed to hover and float over the earth, and lose itself in the sky; so she began to set her face toward the country where the music goes. But, though she gazed till her eyes ached, she never saw her long-lost home, nor so much as a glimpse of one of its spires.

One night, after gazing and weeping till she could scarcely see, and had no tears left, the bright being who visited her dreams came and whispered,--

"If there be a land so fair O'er the mountain s.h.i.+ning, You will never enter there By looking up and pining."

"Dear me! then what shall I do?" said Little One, clasping her hands.

"I am tired of the dropping rain, and the bleak winds; I have lost my father and mother; I long to go home to the Summer-land."

"There are hills to climb, and streams to cross," said the fairy.

"But I have stout shoes," laughed Little One.

"There are thorns and briers all along the road."

"But I can bear to be p.r.i.c.ked."

"Then I will guide you," said the fairy.

"How can that be?" cried the child. "You come to me in dreams; but by daylight I cannot see so much as the tips of your wings."

"Listen, and you will hear my voice," replied the fairy. "Set out toward the East, at dawn, to-morrow, and I will be with you."

When Little One awoke, the sun was rising, and she said,--

"Oh that golden gate! The sun has left it open: do you see it, beautiful lady?"

"I see it," whispered the fairy: "I am close beside you."

"Then," said Little One, fastening her dress, and putting on all the jewels she could possibly carry, "I think I will set out at once; for, if I make all speed, I may reach the Summer-land before that golden gate is closed."

She pressed on, as the fairy directed, up a steep hill, her eyes fixed on the glowing eastern sky. But, as the sun strode up higher, the morning clouds melted away.

"Where is my golden gate?" cried the child.

"Weeping so soon?" whispered the fairy.

"Do not scold me, dear Whisper," moaned the child; "you know I have lost my kind father and mother; and the thorns p.r.i.c.k me; and then this is such a lonely road; there is n.o.body to be seen."

The truth was, there were children gathering strawberries on the hill, and old women digging herbs; but Little One did not see them, for she was all the while watching the sky. But she was soon obliged to pause, and take breath.

"Look about you," said the Whisper, "you may see some one as unhappy as yourself."

The child looked, and saw a little girl driving a goat; while large tears trickled down her cheeks, and moistened her tattered dress. For a moment, Little One's heart ceased aching with its own troubles.

"What is your name, little girl?" said she: "and why do you weep?"

"My name is Poor Dorel," replied the child; "my father and mother are long since dead; and I have nothing to eat but goat's milk and strawberries:" and, as she spoke, the large tears started afresh.

"Poor Dorel! you are the first one I ever saw who had as much trouble as I. I, too, have lost a father and mother."

"Were they a king and queen?" asked Dorel, wiping her eyes, and gazing at Little One's beautiful dress and glittering ornaments.

"They loved me dearly," replied Little One sadly; "yet I never heard that they were king and queen. Come with me, darling Dorel! I never before saw any one who was hungry. Come with me! I live in a country where there is food enough for everybody."

"Where is that?" said Dorel, eagerly.

"I do not quite know, little girl; but it is not in the bosom of the earth, and it is not in the sun-bright deep: so I suppose it is over the hills, and far away."

"Now I know who you are," said Dorel. "You are the _lost sylphid_; and people say you have travelled all over the world. But, if you do not know the way home, pray how can you tell which road to take?"

"Oh! I have a guide,--a beautiful fairy, called Whisper: she shows me every step of the way. I wish you would go too, little Dorel!"

"I think I will not, little Sylphid; for, if you have only a Whisper for a guide, I do not believe you will ever get there; but, oh, you are very, very beautiful!"

"If you will not go," said Little One, "let me, at least, give you a few of my jewels: you can sell them for bread."

So saying, she took from her girdle some turquoise ornaments, and placed them in Dorel's hand with a kiss which had her whole heart in it.