 Section 203 of Childhoods, Favorites, and Fairy Stories. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Childhoods, Favorites, and Fairy Stories by various authors. Section 203 The Brownies by Juliana Horatio Ewing 1. Children are a burden, said the tailor as he sat on his bench stitching away. Children are a blessing, said the kind lady in the window. It was the tailor's mother who spoke. She was a very old woman and nearly helpless. All day she sat in a large armchair, knitting rugs. What have my two lads ever done to help me? continued the tailor sadly. They do nothing but play. If I send Tommy on an errand, he loiters. If I ask him to work, he does it so unwillingly that I would rather do it myself. Since their mother died, I have indeed had a hard time. At this moment the two boys came in, their arms full of moss, which they dropped on the floor. Is there any supper, grandmother? asked Tommy. No, my child, only some bread for breakfast tomorrow. Oh, grandmother, we are so hungry! and the boys' eyes filled with tears. What can I do for you, my poor children? said the good woman. Tell us a story, please, so we can forget we are hungry. Tell us about the brownie that used to live in your grandfather's house. What was he like? Like a little man, they say. What did he do? He came early in the morning before anyone in the house was awake and lighted the fire and swept the room and set out the breakfast. He never would be seen and was off before they could catch him, but they often heard him laughing and playing about the house. Did they give him any wages, grandmother? No, my dear, he did all the work for free. They always set a pan of clear water for him and now and then a bowl of bread and milk. Oh, grandmother, where did he go? The old owl in the wood knows. I do not. When I was young, many people used to go to see the old owl moonrise and ask her what they wanted to know. How I wish a brownie would come and live with us, cried Tommy. So do I, said Johnny. Will you let us set out a pan of water for the brownie, father? asked Tommy. You may set out what you like, my lads, but you must go to bed now. The boys brought out a pan of water. Then they climbed the ladder to the loft over the kitchen. Johnny was soon in the land of dreams, but Tommy lay awake thinking how he could find a brownie and get him to live in the house. There was an owl that lives in the grove, he thought. It may be the old owl herself. When the moon rises, I'll go and find her. Two, the moon rose like gold and went into the heavens like silver. Tommy opened his eyes and ran to the window. The moon has risen, he said, and it is time for me to go. Downstairs he crept softly and out into the still night. Hoot, hoot! cried a voice from the grove near the house. That's the old owl, thought Tommy. He ran to a big tree and looked up. There he saw the old owl sitting on a branch and staring at him with yellow eyes. Oh dear, said Tommy, for he did not like the owl very well. Come up here, come up here, she cried. Tommy climbed the tree and sat face to face with her on the big branch. No, what do you want? said the owl. Please, said Tommy, I want to know where to find the brownie and how to get one to come and live with us. Woo-hoo, woo-hoo, said the owl. That's it, Chisit, I know of three brownies. Hooray, said Tommy, where do they live? In your house, said the owl. In our house? Whereabouts? Why don't they work? cried Tommy. One of them is too little, said the owl. But why don't the other two do something, said Tommy. Nobody does any work at our house except father. They are idle, they are idle, said the old owl. Then we don't want them, said Tommy. What is the use of having brownies in the house if they do nothing to help us? Perhaps they don't know what to do. I wish you would tell me where to find them, said Tommy. I could tell them what to do. Could you? Could you? Woo-hoo, woo-hoo. And Tommy could not tell whether the owl was hooting or laughing. Of course I could. They might get up early in the morning and sweep the house and light the fire and spread the table before my father comes downstairs. So they might, said the owl. Well, I can tell you where to find one of the brownies, and he can tell you where to find his brother. Go to the north side of the pond where the moon is shining on the water. Turn yourself about three times while you say this charm. Twist me and turn me and show me the elf I looked in the water and saw. Then look in the water and think of a word which rhymes with elf and make the charm complete. Tommy knew the place very well. He ran to the north side of the pond and turned himself about three times. He repeated the charm. Then he looked in and saw himself. Why, there's no one but myself. I can't think of the right word. What can it be? I'll go back and ask the owl owl. Thought Tommy, and back he went. There sat the owl as before. Woo-hoo! said she as Tommy climbed up. Did you find out the word? No, said Tommy. I could find no word that rhymes with elf except myself. Well, that is the word! Now, do you know where your brother is? In the bed, in the loft, said Tommy. Then all your questions are answered. Good night! And the old owl began to shake her feathers. Don't go yet, said Tommy humbly. I don't understand you. I am not a brownie. Am I? Yes, you are, and a very idle one too, said the old owl. All children are brownies. Are there really any brownies except children? Inquired Tommy in a dismal tone. No, there are not. Now listen to me, Tommy. Little people can do only little things. When they are idle and mischievous, they are called bogots, and they are a burden to the house they live in. When they are thoughtful and useful, they are brownies and are a blessing to everyone. I'll be a brownie, said Tommy. I won't be a bog hut. Now I'll go home and tell Johnny. I'll take you home, said the owl. And in a moment Tommy found himself in bed, with Johnny sleeping by his side. How quickly we came, said Tommy to himself. But is it morning? That is very strange. I thought the moon was shining. Come, Johnny, get up. I have a story to tell you. Three While his brother was rubbing his eyes, Tommy told him of his visit to the old owl and the grove. Is that all true? Asked Tommy. It is all just as I tell you. And if we don't want to be bogarts, we must get up and go to work. I won't be a bogart, said Johnny. And so the two brownies crept softly down the ladder into the kitchen. I will light the fire, said Tommy. And you, Johnny, can dig some potatoes to roast for breakfast. They swept the room and laid the table. Just as they were putting the potatoes in a dish, they heard footsteps. There's father, said Tommy. We must run. The poor tailor came wearily down the stairs. Morning after morning he had found an untidy room and an empty table. But now when he entered the kitchen he looked around in great surprise. He put his hand out to the fire to see if it was really warm. He touched the potatoes and looked at the neat room. Then he shouted, mother, mother, boys, boys, the brownie has come. There was great excitement in the small house. But the boys said nothing. All day the tailor talked about the brownie. I have heard of little people, he said. But this is wonderful to come and do the work for a pan of cold water. Who would have believed it? The boys said nothing until they were both in bed. Then Tommy said, the old owl was right. And we must stick to the work if we don't want to be bogarts. But I don't like to have father thinking that we are still idle. I wish he knew that we are the brownies. So do I, said Johnny. Day after day went by and still the boys rose early and each day they found more and more to do. The brownies were the joy of the tailor's life. One day a messenger came for the tailor to go to a farmhouse several miles away. The farmer gave him an order for a suit of clothes and paid him at once. Full of joy at his good fortune he hurried home. As he came near the house he saw that the garden had been weeded. It's the brownie, he said. And I shall make a suit of clothes for him. If you make clothes for the brownie he will leave the house, said the grandmother. Not if the clothes are a good fit, mother. I shall measure them by Tommy, for they say that brownies are about his size. At last a fine new suit with brass buttons was finished and laid out for the brownie. Don't the clothes look fine, said Tommy, when he came down in the morning. I'll try them on. The tailor rose earlier than usual that day, for he wished to catch a glimpse of the brownie. He went softly downstairs. There was Johnny sweeping the floor and Tommy trying on the new suit. What does this mean? shouted the father. It's the brownies, said the boys. This is no joke, cried the tailor angrily. Where are the real brownies, I say? We are the only brownies, father, said Tommy. I can't understand this. Who has been sweeping the kitchen lately I should like to know? We have, said the boys. Who gets breakfast and put things in order? We do, we do, they cried. But when do you do it? Early in the morning, before you come down. But if you do the work, where is the brownie? Here, cried the boys. We are the brownies and we are sorry that we were bogart so long. The father was delighted to find how helpful his boys had become. The grandmother, however, could hardly believe that a real brownie had not been in the house. But as she sat in her chair day after day, watching the boys at their work, she often repeated her favorite saying, Children are a blessing. End of the brownies. End of section 203. Section 204 of childhood's favorites and fairy stories. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Shaleefa Malhiam. Childhood's favorites and fairy stories by various authors. Section 204. The Story of Peter Pan. Once upon a time there were three children named Wendy, John and Michael, who lived with their father and mother in London. One evening the father and mother were invited to a party, and the mother, after lighting the dim lamp in the nursery and kissing them good night, went away. That evening a little boy climbed in through the window whose name was Peter Pan. He was a curious Lizzo fellow, very conceited, very forgetful, and yet very lovable. The most remarkable thing about him was that he never grew up. They came flooding him through the window with him, his fairy, whose name was Tinkerbell. Peter Pan roped all the children up, and after he had sprinkled fairy dust on the shoulders, he took them away to his neverland, where he lived with a family of lost boys. Tinkerbell was jealous of the little girl Wendy, and she hurried ahead of Peter Pan and persuaded the boys that Wendy was a bird who might do them harm, and so one of the boys shot her with his bow and arrow. When Peter Pan came and found Wendy lying lifeless upon the ground in the woods, he was very angry, but he was also very quick-witted. So he told the boys that if they would build a house around Wendy, he was sure that she would be better. So they hurried to collect everything they had out of which they could make a house. Though she was not yet strong enough to talk, they thought perhaps she might sing the kind of house she would like to have. So Wendy sang softly this little verse. I wish I had a pretty house, the littlest ever seen, with funny little red walls and a roof of mussy green. When the house was done, Peter Pan took John's hat for the chimney, and the little house was so pleased to have such a capital chimney that smoke at once began to come out through the hat. All that night Peter Pan walked up and down in front of Wendy's house to watch over her and keep her from danger while she slept. All these children lived in an underground cave, and the next day when Wendy got well, they all went down into the cave and Wendy agreed to be their mother and Peter their father. They had many good times together. They also had some exciting adventures with the Redskins and with a pirate named Captain Hook and his crew. After a time the Redskins became their friends and Peter rescued his family from the pirate ship. One day Wendy and her brothers realised that they had been away so long that perhaps their mother had forgotten them and shut the window of the nursery so that they could not get back. They decided to hurry home. When they reached home Peter Pan was before them and he closed the window so that they could not get back. But when he heard the children's mother singing such a sad song inside his heart was made tender and he opened the window and the children grabbed back safely into their mother's arms. Wendy's mother invited Peter Pan to stay and be her child. But Peter was so afraid that he would have to go to school and grow up and be a man that he went back to his home in Ferryland. Wendy promised to go once a year and stay a few days with Peter Pan and clean house and mantis clothes. Let us picture them in the little house that was built for Wendy which of the fairies had put up in the branches of a pine tree. The birds are singing in the nests and in the branches and far below the clouds you can see the land and the sea. Wendy is suing for Peter and Peter Pan is playing his pipes while she works. When night comes the woods are full of flashing lights like little stars because the fairies are flitting around the house where Peter and Wendy live and are singing to them as they go to sleep. In a few days Wendy will go back to John and Michael to tell them what a good time she had on her visit in the little house in the woods. Childhood's Favourites and Fairy Stories by Various Authors Section 205 Sir Lark and King's Son by George MacDonald Good mother, my lord! In the sky alone saying the lark as the sun ascended his throne Shine on me, my lord! I only have come of all your servants to welcome you home I have flown right up a whole hour I swear to catch the first shine of your golden hair Must I thank you then? said the king Sir Lark for flying so high and hating the dark You ask a full cup for half a thirst half for love of me Half love to be first As many a bird makes no such haste but waits till I come That's as much to my taste And King's Son hid his head in a turban of cloud And Sir Lark stopped singing quite vexed and cowed But he flew up higher and thought Anon the wrath of the king will be over and gone And his crown shining out of its cloudy fold Will change my brown feathers to a glory of gold So he flew with the strength of a lark he flew But as he rose the cloud rose too And not one gleam of the golden hair came through the depths of the misty air Till weary with flying with sighing sore The strong son-seeker could do no more His wings had had no chrysm of gold And his feathers felt withered and worn and old He faltered and sank and dropped like a stone And there on his nest where he left her alone Sat his little wife on her little eggs Keeping them warm with wings and legs Did I say alone? Ah, no such thing! Full in her face was shining the king Welcome, Sir Lark! You look tired Said he Up is not always the best way to me While you have been singing so high and away I've been shining to your little wife all day He had set his crown all about the nest And out of the midst shown her little brown breast And so glorious was she in a russet of gold That for wonder and awe Sir Lark grew cold He popped his head under her wing and lay As still as a stone till king's son was away End of section 205 Section 206 of Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Jennifer Stearns. Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories by various authors. Section 206 The Imps and the Heavenly Meadow by Kate E. Bunce after Rudolph Bonbach To Heaven's meadows, bright with flowers and sunshine, the little children go when they have had enough of life's sad dreaming and leave the earth below. But as they had not time to learn their lessons before they went away, there is a school where all the angel children work for hours a day. With golden pencils upon silver tablets they copy fairy tales and learn to keep their halos bright and shining and sing and play their scales. And twice a week they glide with merry laughter all down the milky way and homework in the evening wander softly upon a sunset ray. But Sunday is the day they love and long for then all the children go and play from one till night in the meadow where flowers and thousands grow. The meadow is not green but blue and golden the flowers like dew drops bright. When it is night they burn and glow and glisten men call them stars of light. Through Heaven's gate they all must pass to find it where Peter with the key keeps watch and mourns the little angels kindly how good they all must be. They must not fly about or run too quickly nor go too far away with the golden key he calls them then they must all obey. One day it was so very hot in Heaven that good Saint Peter slept and when the little angel children saw it away they quickly crept. Ah then they ran and flew about with laughter and fluttered far and wide. So far they wandered out of Heaven's meadow they reached the other side. They came to where the strong tall wooden pailing shuts all that place away where idle careless mischief-loving naughty the imps of darkness stray. And there the angels stopped devoutly wishing some opening there might be so that they might each one enter and peep through it and see what they could see. But not a chinker-hole for all they're seeking no gleam of light pierced through so would their little wings outspread and eager right to the top they flew and looking down they saw with awe and wonder imps all as black as soot each had two horns and each a tail to play with and hoof instead of foot. They heard the rustle of angel feathers they felt the cool sweet air and lifting up their little cold black faces they saw Heaven's children there. Then with one voice they cried oh angel children you look so good and fair we pray you let us come up into Heaven and play a little there. We will not tweak nor pull your shining feathers but be so very good. We will not try and steal your halos but all do as we should. Then quick they flew away for Jacob's ladder Peter was still asleep and placed it safely where from Heaven to Implan the way was dark and steep then every imp with shouts of laughter helped by an angel's hand scrambled right over the great wood and paling and stood in Heaven's land. They all with air sedate and pious faces discreetly walked around their tails like trains upon their arms of holding and eyes upon the ground. The little angels fluttered round in rapture and showed the lovely flowers and bade them listen to the thrilling voices of birds in Heaven's bowers and gently led them by the crystal streamlets bade them on dew drops feast and showed them where the silver moon was rising to light them from the east. Alas when all the little demons saw her the moon so large and round they all began to roar and growl and gibber and leap from off the ground and mocked the great white moon with ugly faces turned somersaults in air and when the angels prayed them cease in terror they vowed they did not care they trampled down the grass in Heaven's meadow they tore the flowers about and flung them on the earth beyond the paling with jive and jir and shout they chased the birds that sang among the treetops and hushed the music sweet they pulled the angels' tender feathers and trot upon their feet then to the good Saint Peter cried the angels to help them in their pain and if he would but this one time forgive them they would be good again then rose Saint Peter from his peaceful dreaming and angry saint was he he rung his hands and clasped his head in horror and seized his golden key then blew a mighty blast and wrath upon it back all the angels flew and wide he threw the door of Heaven open and thrust the children through and then he called two great and powerful angels the strongest of the race to chase the little demons out of Heaven and clear the holy place they gathered up the little imps and armfuls bore them with mighty stride and flung them over the strong wooden paling down the other side and though they fought and lashed their tails and whimpered and kicked with might and mane to Heaven's meadow bright with sun and flowers they never came again for two long months the little angel children were not allowed to play before the door of Heaven in the meadow but stayed in all the day and when again they sought the heavenly meadow each child with humble mind must lay astride its little shining halo and leave its wings behind but all the flowers that on that day of sorrow flung out and skydored were took root and bloom again in earth's green meadows as daisies white and fair end of 206 the imps in the heavenly meadow recorded by Jennifer Stearns Concord, New Hampshire The Birthday Honours of the Fairy Queen by Hapgood Moore Once upon a time there lived in green airing a little girl by the name of Nora her home was a small fatched cottage of stone beside the bray at the foot of a mountain in the midst of a woodland so deep that in the summer time when the trees were full the sun got its rays in sun and in the summer time the trees were full the sun got its rays inside but a few hours of the day and you could see of the stardust that covers the fields of the sky no peace larger than the palm of your hand it was a famous meeting place for the fairies this horn to the foot of the mountain by the stream for the little folk from the heather above used nightly to foregather in the meadow with the little folk from the woodlands below and there they danced a long night through among the shamrocks but although Nora had heard about the fairies from her grandmother who sat all day tending the peat fire and something more about them from her mother when of an evening after supper she had time to speak to Nora of herself when she was a girl yet Nora had never in all her life set eyes upon one of these feasters of the forest for the fairies mind you come only to two kinds of folk to those who believe in them and to those who need them now Nora believed in the fairies alright alright but she had never been in need of them until now at this time that I'm telling you of now this same Nora was one of these lasses that is a wee bit gloomery and you don't know what this same gloomery is well she was at times hindered by a rainy morning disposition so it was plain enough to the fairies that she was in some need of them one day Nora went into the deep of the wildwood a few steps below her mother's cottage to a tristing place where she often resorted when she had the time from her daily duties she had been unusually heckled that morning as all of us are at times by being obliged to do many things for which she had little liking that was a favourite one of Nora's there was a shelter of rocks above almost like a cave or roof and below there was a tiny stream of water that ran out of a spring in the back of the hill and sang its way down the slopes to the bray below in this pool Nora nearly always laid some field flowers because they kept fresher there than anywhere else from the low seats that Nora had made out of a stone in the back of a shelter she looked out into a sunny place in the woods around which stood as if they were pillars of a woodland palace six grey beaches now upon this sunny afternoon that I'm speaking of hardly had Nora reclined upon a bench feeling a bit drowsy no doubt with the heat yet not quite sleepy listening to a robin singing with the voice of Eden when she heard a light tapping all of the largest beach the one that was nearest to the place where she was lying at first when she heard this sound she thought that it was the robin red breast that she had noticed hopping up and down in the open place in the sunlight and yet she knew well that robins do not drum upon the bark of trees like woodpeckers so she jumped lightly up and ran to the tree and at once she was aware that the tapping was from inside the tree and between the taps that were no louder than those of a branch against a windowpane she distinctly heard a very tiny voice how tiny was the voice Michael Arun you're asking me how tiny the voice was let me see if I can tell you you've heard the sound of the rivulet when it falls upon the mossy stones in the pasture by the barway about as loud as the echo of that if you should walk 30 paces away and then listen so Nora had to put her ear up close against the breasts of the beach tree and even then the voice sounded no louder than the sound of a beachleaf when it falls from a branch into the moss bed but she could hear what the voice was saying and it was these words Nora my darling and let me out Nora looked around in amazement but sure enough there on the breast of the beach about the height of her heart was a small key of the color of the bark that she had never noticed before even though she had hooked that beach tree every morning of her life so Nora turned the key at once and outstepped a fairy Michael yeah better than a fairy, a dryad that is a fairy of the tree for a fairy of a tree is as much higher in rank than a fairy of the meadow as a duchess is than a goose girl she was about the size of the robin red breast and was dressed all in green except a lovely cloak of red that when it was folded about her made her look very much indeed like the red breast himself and she was no bit bigger than a robin either Nora ma vurnain said the dryad I have been noticing that you seem a bit sad hearted of late and for no reason either that anybody knows so if you don't mind I will take you with me for a walk this afternoon through fairy land and we will see if we cannot do something to restore your good spirits again at these words Nora and you would never have been able to guess that she had ever known a downhearted moment so the dryad clapped her tiny hands three times and out of the open door in the beech tree stepped a little gnome who came and bowed low before them holding in his hands a silver salver on which lay a little pellet how little was the pellet uncle well what would you say if I told you that it was as small as a hummingbird's egg oh you think it was smaller than that well how about the seed of a coriander no then I will tell you the truth it was as small as the knot that gets into your eye that feels as big as a rat so Nora took the pellet from the platter and thanked the gnome kindly and she ate it down and no sooner had she swallowed it then she was no bigger than the dryad herself so the dryad took her by the hand and they walked gaily into the beech tree door and the door shut behind them they went down and down a lot of winding stairs that were lighted only by small windows in the bark of the tree that Nora had never noticed before and could never find afterward it was very cool and pleasant for they could hear the sap go singing on its way from the roots up to the branches and leaves and when a summer shower went by they could hear the raindrops as they went singing down the trunk outside to the roots after they had reached the foot of the stairs they walked for a long way through a cool corridor it was not quite dark for little people stood at every turn who seemed to be doing what fireflies do on summer nights in the grass and each one whistling to himself as he held his softly shaded lantern aloft down the side passages Nora could see thousands of tiny miners at work and what do you think they are doing? digging for gold and diamonds they were tending the woodland plants that hang their golden blossoms in the pathways and carrying up the dew drops that sparkle like diamonds on their leaves in the daybreak and it was pleasant to see them work for they were all singing by and by Nora and the Dryad came to a place where there was a brighter light ahead and as they drew nearer Nora could see that they had come to the bank of the pond that is below Nora's cottage only that they were under the surface looking up through a light so soft that it cast no shadows and now the Dryad took Nora's hand and she found herself in a little boat no bigger than a leaf sailing across the pond but still beneath its surface and here she saw on every hand working amid the mire and the murk such jolly little divers who were feeding the fish and tending the pond lily roots and like all the others she asked now you will know of course that they were on their way to the home of the fairy queen and it was but a short while before they were there I need not tell you children how lovely is her palace with its golden floor and silver walls and its hangings of the colours of the rainbow nor need I say how beautiful is her majesty herself with wings her splendid butterfly and a gown like the morning and a face like the sunshine it seems that Nora had come upon the queen's birthday and she was just giving the birthday honours so Nora and the Dryad stood in the background and watched the scene around the throne stood gallant fairy gentlemen clad like beetles and dragonflies for splendour and ladies whose long gowns hung like the light on the waterfall of Loughmarine but to the amazement of Nora those who came forward to receive the honours were for the most part dressed like workmen and many of them were bent with hard labour as each advanced and made obeisance the royal herald read the exploit for which the rank of knighthood was about to be conferred for one he read who covered the lilies of Moira from the attack of the frost king and to another to the gallant yeoman who watered the grainfield of Kilvelyn and to still another to him who dug the trench by the roadside and kept safe the highway to Throselwaite Fair and as each came forward the trumpets peeled in triumph and after a gold star had been pinned upon the new knight's breast the gentlemen and ladies of the court greeted them with hearty reverence and Nora looked in the smiling face of the dryad but said nothing then Nora herself in a breathless moment of fear was presented to the queen and the queen kissed her daintily just above her lips on both sides and suddenly suddenly Nora found herself back on her stony bench by the spring with the branches of the beech tree waving silently before her oh motherine and grandmother kin she cried as soon as she got home and she ran home all the way let me tell you about the wonderful visit I've been making out in the wildwood and after she had told a story motherine said I think Nora has been dreaming but grandmother kin said no daughter I think our little Akushla has had her eyes opened the day then Nora in triumph showed the two dimples where the fairy queen had kissed her and do you know my darlings I cannot but think that she told the truth after all forever after if one kissed Nora upon these two dimples or even touched them or even looked at them she would break into the sweetest smile and she never was gloomering or lowering anymore End of section 207 End of Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories by Various Authors