The Holy Cross and Other Tales Part 14

"I should like to hear a fairy operetta," suggested the pen-wiper.

"I remember one the fairies sang my little master as they danced over his eyelids," said the little shoe, "and I will repeat it if you wish."

"Nothing would please me more," said the pen-wiper.

"Then you must know," said the little shoe, "that, as soon as my master fell asleep, the fairies would make their appearance, led by their queen, a most beautiful and amiable little lady no bigger than a cambric needle. a.s.sembling on the pillow of the crib, they would order their minstrels and orchestra to seat themselves on little master's forehead. The minstrels invariably were the cricket, the flea, the katydid, and the gnat, while the orchestra consisted of mosquitos, b.u.mblebees, and wasps. Once in a great while, on very important occasions, the fairies would bring the old blind hop-toad down the chimney and set him on the window-sill, where he would discourse droll ditties to the infinite delight of his hearers. But on ordinary occasions, the fairy queen, whose name was Taffie, would lead the performance in these pleasing words, sung to a very dulcet air:

AN INVITATION TO SLEEP

Little eyelids, cease your winking; Little orbs, forget to beam; Little soul, to slumber sinking, Let the fairies rule your dream.

Breezes, through the lattice sweeping, Sing their lullabies the while-- And a star-ray, softly creeping To thy bedside, woos thy smile.

But no song nor ray entrancing Can allure thee from the spell Of the tiny fairies dancing O'er the eyes they love so well.

See, we come in countless number-- I, their queen, and all my court-- Haste, my precious one, to slumber Which invites our fairy sport.

"At the conclusion of this song Prince Whimwham, a tidy little gentleman fairy in pink silk small-clothes, approaching Queen Taffie and bowing graciously, would say:

Pray, lady, may I have the pleasure Of leading you this stately measure?

To which her majesty would reply with equal graciousness in the affirmative. Then Prince Whimwham and Queen Taffie would take their places on one of my master's eyelids, and the other gentleman fairies and lady fairies would follow their example, till at last my master's face would seem to be alive with these delightful little beings. The mosquitos would blow a shrill blast on their trumpets, the orchestra would strike up, and then the festivities would begin in earnest. How the b.u.mblebees would drone, how the wasps would buzz, and how the mosquitos would blare! It was a delightful harmony of weird sounds.

The strange little dancers floated hither and thither over my master's baby face, as light as thistledowns, and as graceful as the slender plumes they wore in their hats and bonnets. Presently they would weary of dancing, and then the minstrels would be commanded to entertain them. Invariably the flea, who was a rattle-headed fellow, would discourse some such incoherent song as this:

COQUETRY

Tiddle-de-dumpty, tiddle-de-dee-- The spider courted the frisky flea; Tiddle-de-dumpty, tiddle-de-doo-- The flea ran off with the bugaboo!

"Oh, tiddle-de-dee!"

Said the frisky flea-- For what cared she For the miseree The spider knew, When, tiddle-de-doo, The flea ran off with the bugaboo!

Rumpty-tumpty, pimplety-pan-- The flubdub courted a catamaran But timplety-topplety, timpity-tare-- The flubdub wedded the big blue bear!

The fun began With a pimplety-pan When the catamaran, Tore up a man And streaked the air With his gore and hair Because the flubdub wedded the bear!

"I remember with what dignity the fairy queen used to reprove the flea for his inane levity:

Nay, futile flea; these verses you are making Disturb the child--for, see, he is awaking!

Come, little cricket, sing your quaintest numbers, And they, perchance, shall lull him back to slumbers.

"Upon this invitation the cricket, who is justly one of the most famous songsters in the world, would get his pretty voice in tune and sing as follows:

THE CRICKET'S SONG

When all around from out the ground The little flowers are peeping, And from the hills the merry rills With vernal songs are leaping, I sing my song the whole day long In woodland, hedge, and thicket-- And sing it, too, the whole night through, For I 'm a merry cricket.

The children hear my chirrup clear As, in the woodland straying, They gather flow'rs through summer hours-- And then I hear them saying: "Sing, sing away the livelong day, Glad songster of the thicket-- With your shrill mirth you gladden earth, You merry little cricket!"

When summer goes, and Christmas snows Are from the north returning, I quit my lair and hasten where The old yule-log is burning.

And where at night the ruddy light Of that old log is flinging A genial joy o'er girl and boy, There I resume my singing.

And, when they hear my chirrup clear, The children stop their playing-- With eager feet they haste to greet My welcome music, saying: "The little thing has come to sing Of woodland, hedge, and thicket-- Of summer day and lambs at play-- Oh, how we love the cricket!"

"This merry little song always seemed to please everybody except the gnat. The fairies appeared to regard the gnat as a pestiferous insect, but a contemptuous pity led them to call upon him for a recitation, which invariably was in the following strain:

THE FATE OF THE FLIMFLAM

A flimflam flopped from a fillamaloo, Where the pollywog pinkled so pale, And the pipkin piped a petulant "pooh"

To the garrulous gawp of the gale.

"Oh, woe to the swap of the sweeping swipe That booms on the hobbling bay!"

Snickered the snark to the snoozing snipe That lurked where the lamprey lay.

The gluglug glinked in the glimmering gloam, Where the buzbuz b.u.mbled his bee-- When the flimflam flitted, all flecked with foam, From the sozzling and succulent sea.

"Oh, swither the swipe, with its sweltering sweep!"

She swore as she swayed in a swoon, And a doleful dank dumped over the deep, To the lay of the limpid loon!

"This was simply horrid, as you all will allow. The queen and her fairy followers were much relieved when the honest katydid narrated a pleasant moral in the form of a ballad to this effect:

CONTENTMENT

Once on a time an old red hen Went strutting 'round with pompous clucks, For she had little babies ten, A part of which were tiny ducks.

"'T is very rare that hens," said she, "Have baby ducks as well as chicks-- But I possess, as you can see, Of chickens four and ducklings six!"

A season later, this old hen Appeared, still cackling of her luck, For, though she boasted babies ten, Not one among them was a duck!

"'T is well," she murmured, brooding o'er The little chicks of fleecy down-- "My babies now will stay ash.o.r.e, And, consequently, cannot drown!"

The following spring the old red hen Clucked just as proudly as of yore-- But lo! her babes were ducklings ten, Instead of chickens, as before!

"'T is better," said the old red hen, As she surveyed her waddling brood; "A little water now and then Will surely do my darlings good!"

But oh! alas, how very sad!

When gentle spring rolled round again The eggs eventuated bad, And childless was the old red hen!

Yet patiently she bore her woe, And still she wore a cheerful air, And said: "'T is best these things are so, For babies are a dreadful care!"

I half suspect that many men, And many, many women, too, Could learn a lesson from the hen With foliage of vermilion hue; She ne'er presumed to take offence At any fate that might befall, But meekly bowed to Providence-- She was contented--that was all!

"Then the fairies would resume their dancing. Each little gentleman fairy would bow to his lady fairy and sing in the most musical of voices:

Sweet little fairy, Tender and airy, Come, let us dance on the good baby-eyes; Merrily skipping, Cheerily tripping, Murmur we ever our soft lullabies.

"And then, as the rest danced, the fairy queen sang the following slumber-song, accompanied by the orchestra:

A FAIRY LULLABY

There are two stars in yonder steeps That watch the baby while he sleeps.

But while the baby is awake And singing gayly all day long, The little stars their slumbers take Lulled by the music of his song.

So sleep, dear tired baby, sleep While little stars their vigils keep.