The Gray Brethren and Other Fragments in Prose and Verse Part 4

A Lark's Song

Sweet, sweet!

I rise to greet The sapphire sky The air slips by On either side As up I ride On mounting wing, And sing and sing - Then reach my bliss, The sun's great kiss; And poise a s.p.a.ce To see his face, Sweet, sweet, In radiant grace, Ah, sweet! ah, sweet!

Sweet, sweet!

Beneath my feet My nestlings call: And down I fall Unerring, true, Through heaven's blue; And haste to fill Each noisy bill.

My brooding breast Stills their unrest.

Sweet, sweet, Their quick hearts beat, Safe in the nest: Ah, sweet, sweet, sweet!

Ah, sweet!

Sweet, sweet The calling sky That bids me fly Up--up--on high.

Sweet, sweet The claiming earth; It holds my nest And draws me down To where Love's crown Of priceless worth Awaits my breast.

Sweet, sweet!

Ah, this is best And this most meet, Sweet, sweet! ah, sweet!

'Luvly Miss'

n.o.body thought of consequences. There was a lighted paraffin lamp on the table and nothing else handy. Mrs Brown's head presented a tempting mark, and of course Mr Brown's lengthy stay at 'The Three Fingers' had something to do with it; but n.o.body thought of Miss Brown, aged four, who was playing happily on the floor, unruffled by the storm to which she was so well accustomed.

Mrs Brown ducked; there was a smash, a scream, and poor little Miss Brown was in a blaze. The shock sobered the father and silenced the mother. Miss Brown was extinguished with the aid of a table- cover, much water, and many neighbours; but she was horribly burnt all over, except her face.

I made Miss Brown's acquaintance a few days later. She was lying on a bed made up on two chairs, and was covered with cotton wool.

She had scarcely any pain, and could not move at all; and the small face that peered out of what she called her "pitty warm snow" was wan and drawn and had a far-away look in the dark eyes.

Miss Brown possessed one treasure, her 'luvly miss.' I suppose I must call it a doll, though in what its claim to the t.i.tle consisted I dared not ask; Miss Brown would have deeply resented the enquiry. It was a very large potato with a large and a small bulge. Into the large bulge were inserted three pieces of fire- wood, the body and arms of 'luvly miss'; legs she had none.

How Miss Brown came by this treasure I never heard. She had an impression that it "flied froo the winder"--I fancy Mr Brown had a hand in the manufacture in one of his lucid moments; but it was a treasure indeed and the joy of Miss Brown's life. She held long conversations with 'luvly miss' on all familiar subjects; and apparently obtained much strange and rare information from her.

For example, Miss Brown and 'luvly miss' in some previous stage of their existence had inhabited a large chimney-pot together, "where it was always so warm and a bootie 'mell of cookin'.'" Also she had a rooted belief that one day she and 'luvly miss' would be "hangels wiv' black weils and basticks." This puzzled me for some time, until I discovered it to be an allusion to the good deaconess who attended her, and whom Mrs Brown in grat.i.tude designated by this t.i.tle.

Alas for little Miss Brown and her 'luvly miss'! their respective ends were drawing near. I went in one Friday, a week or so after the accident, and found Mrs Brown in tears and despair, and Miss Brown with a look of anguish on her poor little pinched face that was bad to see. 'Luvly Miss' was no more.

It was Mr Brown again; or, to trace back the links of occasion, it was the action of 'The Three Fingers' on Mr Brown's frail const.i.tution. He had come in late, seen 'luvly miss' on the table, and, with his usual heedlessness of consequence, had chucked her into the dying embers where--alas that I should have to say it!-- she slowly baked. Little Miss Brown, when the miserable truth was broken to her, neither wept nor remonstrated; she lay quite still with a look of utter forsaken wretchedness on her tiny white face, and moaned very softly for 'luvly miss.'

I came face to face with this state of things and I confess it staggered me. I knew Miss Brown too well to hope that any pink- and-white darling from the toy-shop could replace 'luvly miss,' or that she could be persuaded to admit even a very image of the dear departed into her affections. Then, too, the doctor said Miss Brown had but a few days at the most, perhaps only hours, to live; and comforted she must be.

All at once I had an inspiration, and never in my life have I welcomed one more. I knelt down by little Miss Brown and told her the story of the Phoenix. I had not reckoned in vain upon her imagination: would I "yerely and twooly bwing" her "werry own luvly miss out of the ashes?" I lied cheerfully and hastened away to the dust-bin, accompanied by Mrs Brown.

In a few minutes we returned with a pail of ashes, the ashes, of course, of 'luvly miss' mingled with those of the cruel fire which had consumed her. I danced solemnly round them, murmured mysterious words, parted the ashes, and revealed the form of 'luvly miss.' Love's eyes were not sharp to mark a change, and little Miss Brown's misplaced faith in me was strong. Never shall I forget the scream of joy which greeted the restored treasure, or the relief with which I saw an expression of peace settle once more on Miss Brown's face.

I saw them again next day. Little Miss Brown was asleep in her last little bed, still wrapped in the "pitty warm snow," and 'luvly miss' lay beside her.

Four Stories Told to Children

The Story of the Dreadful Griffin.

My Dear Children,--I am going to tell you a really breathless story for your holiday treat. It will have to begin with the moral, because everyone will be too much exhausted to read one at the end, and as the moral is the only part that really matters, it is important to come to it quite fresh.

We will, therefore, endeavour to learn from this story:-

If we fly at all, to fly HIGH.

To be extremely polite.

To be kind and grateful to cats and all other animals.

All the trouble arose one day when the Princess (there is always a Princess in a fairy-tale, you know) was playing in the garden with her ball. She threw it up in the air much higher than usual and it never came down again. There was an awful shriek, like ten thousand steam-engines; all the ladies-in-waiting fainted in a row, the inhabitants of the place went stone-deaf, and the Captain of the Guard, who was in attendance with a company of his troops, seized the Princess, put her on his horse, galloped away followed by his soldiers to a castle on the top of a hill, deposited the Princess in the highest room, and then and only then, told her what had happened.

"Miss," he said, for he was so upset he forgot Court etiquette, "Miss, your ball must have hit the Dreadful Griffin in the eye (I noticed he was taking a little fly in the neighbourhood), and that was the reason of the awful shriek. Well, Miss, the Dreadful Griffin never was known to forgive anybody anything, so I s.n.a.t.c.hed you up quick before he could get at you and brought you to the Castle of the White Cats. There are seventeen of these animals sitting outside the door and twenty-seven more standing in the courtyard, so you're as safe as safe can be, for the Dreadful Griffin can't look at a white cat without getting the ague and then he shakes so a mouse wouldn't be afraid of him. And now, Miss, I must go back to your Royal Pa, so I will wish you good-morning."

Having made this long speech the Captain suddenly remembered the Court etiquette, became very hot and red, went out of the room backwards, and instantly fell over the seventeen cats who all swore at him, which so confused the poor man that he rolled down the stairs and out into the court where the twenty-seven cats were having rations of mouse-pie served out to them; and the Captain rolled into the middle of the pie, scalded himself badly with the gravy, and was thankful to jump on his horse and ride away with his soldiers to report matters to the King.

The King was so pleased with his prompt.i.tude that he made him the General of the Flying Squadron, which only fights in the air, and conferred on him the medal of the Society for the Suppression of Superfluous Salamanders, whereat the Captain was overjoyed.

But this is a digression, and I only told you because I wanted you to see that virtue is always rewarded.

Now for the poor Princess.

Well, she cried a little, of course, but the cats brought her some mouse-pie, which she found very good, and she was soon quite happy playing with some of the kittens and nearly forgot all about the Dreadful Griffin; but he did not forget about HER, oh dear no! He flew after the Captain when he galloped away with the Princess, but when he saw the White Cats he shook with ague so fearfully that his teeth rolled about in his mouth like billiard b.a.l.l.s and he had to go and get a new set before he could eat his dinner. Well, he was in a perfect fury, and how to get at the Princess he did not know.

He swallowed several buckets of hot brimstone, rolled his head in a red flannel petticoat, put his tail in a hot sand-bag, and went to bed hoping to cure the ague, which he did completely, so that he was quite well next day and more anxious to eat the Princess than ever.

Now next door to the Dreadful Griffin (that is, a hundred miles away) there lived a Wicked Witch, and he went to consult her as to how he might get at the Princess. When the Wicked Witch heard what a sad effect White Cats had on the Griffin's const.i.tution she said that she would have expected a Griffin of his coils to have had more sense.

"Any slow-worm knows," said the Wicked Witch, "that cats love mice better than Princesses; therefore get a large sack of fat mice, let them loose a little way from the castle, and when the cats see them they will run after them, and you can eat the Princess."

The Dreadful Griffin was so pleased with the Wicked Witch that he presented her with a pair of fire-bricks and a hot-water tin, and then flew away to the Purveyor of Mice, who lived in a town about seventy miles away. He bought twelve hundred dozen fat mice of the best quality, all the Purveyor had in stock that were home-grown, and flew on with them to the castle. When he was a little way off he let the mice out, expecting all the cats to arrive at once; but not a cat appeared. They HEARD mice and they SMELT mice, but not a cat moved, for they were on their honour; so they kept guard and licked their lips sadly. When the Griffin saw the last of the twelve hundred dozen mice disappearing down the road with never a cat after them, he was in a tremendous temper and flew away to the house of the Wicked Witch, only stopping to pick up a steam engine which he dropped through her roof, and then went home to bed. Next day he remembered a friend of his called the Grumpy Giant, who lived six doors away, that is, about a thousand miles, so he flew to ask his advice. When the Giant heard his story, he said in the gruffest voice you ever heard, "Mice is common, try sparrers" (by which you can see that he was quite an uneducated person), and then he turned over and went to sleep.

The Dreadful Griffin at once flew away to the Sparrow Preserves, bought eleven thousand, and then proceeded to let them fly close to the castle. Still not a cat moved. As the cats' copy-book well says, "Honour is dearer to cats than mice or birds," and all the kittens write this in round-hand as soon as they can do lessons at all, and never forget it.

Well, I really dare not describe the state of mind the Griffin was in; but he made the air so hot that all the people put on their thinnest clothes, although it was the middle of winter. He flew home puffing and snorting, and on the way he pa.s.sed the house of the Amiable Answerer. He went in and told his story, and his voice shook with rage. The Amiable Answerer gave him a penny pink ice to cool him down, and then said gently:-

"I think, dear Mr Griffin, that green spectacles would meet your case. Then the cats which are now white would appear to you green and . . . "