 CHAPTER 8 RIPPLE THE WATER SPIRIT Down in the deep blue sea lived Ripple, a happy little water spirit. All day long she danced beneath the coral arches, made garlands of bright ocean flowers or floated on the great waves that sparkled in the sunlight, but the pastime that she loved best was lying in the many colored shells upon the shore, listening to the low, murmuring music the waves had taught them long ago, and here for hours the little spirit lay watching the sea and sky while singing gaily to herself. But when tempest rose, she hastened down below the stormy billows, to where all was calm and still, and with her sister's spirits waited till it should be fair again, listening sadly. Meanwhile, to the cries of those whom the wild waves wrecked, and cast into the angry sea, and whose soon came floating down, pale and cold, to the spirit's pleasant home. Then they wept pitying tears above the lifeless forms, and laid them in quiet graves, where flowers bloomed, and jewels sparkled in the sand. This was Ripple's only grief, and she often thought of those who sorrowed for the friends they loved, who now slept far down in the dim and silent coral caves, and gladly would she have saved the lives of those who lay around her. But the great ocean was far mightier than all the tender-hearted spirits dwelling in its bosom, thus she would only weep for them, and lay them down to sleep where no cruel waves could harm them more. One day, when her fearful storm raged far and wide, and the spirits saw great billows rolling like heavy clouds above their heads, and heard the wild wind sounding far away, down through the foaming waves a little child came floating to their home. Its eyes were closed, as if in sleep. The long hair fell like seaweed, round its pale, cold face, and the little hand still clasped the shells that had been gathering on the beach, when the great waves swept it into the troubled sea. With tender tears the spirits lay the little form to rest upon its better flowers, and singing mournful songs, as if to make its sleep more calm and deep, watched long and lovelily above it, till the storm had died away, and all was still again. While Ripple sang above the little child, through the distant roar of winds and waves, she heard a wild, soaring voice that seemed to call for help. While she listened, thinking it was but the echo of their own plaintiff's song, but high above the music still sounded the sad, wailing cry. Then, stealing silently away, she glided up through the foam and spray, till, through the parting clouds, the sunlight shone upon her from the tranquil sky. And guided by the mournful sound, she floated on, till, close before her on the beach, and saw a woman, stretching forth her arms, and, with a sad, imploring voice, praying the restless sea, to give her back the little child it had so cruelly worn away. But the waves dashed foaming up among the bare rocks at her feet, mingling their cold spray with her tears, and gave no answer to her prayer. When Ripple saw at the mother's grief, she longed to comfort her. So, banding tenderly beside her, where she knelt upon the shore, the little spirit told her how her child lay softly sleeping, far down in a lovely place, where soaring tears were shed, and gentle hands laid garlands over him. But all in vain she whispered kindly words, the weeping mother only cried, Dear spirit, can you use no charm or spell to make the waves bring back my child, as full of life and strength as when they swept him from my side? Oh, give me back my little child, or let me lie beside him in the bosom of the cruel sea. Most gladly will I help you, if I can, though I have little power to use. Then grieve no more, for I will search both earth and sea, to find some friend who can bring back all you have lost. Watch daily on the shore, and if I do not come again, then you will know my search has been in vain. Farewell, poor mother, you shall see your little child again, if fairy power can win him back. And with these cheering words Ripple sprang into the sea, while smiling through her tears the woman watched the gentle spirit till her bright crown vanished in the waves. When Ripple reached her home she hastened to the palace of the Queen, and told her of the little child, the soaring mother, and the promise she had made. Good little Ripple, said the Queen, when she had told her all, your promise never can be kept, there is no power below the sea to work this charm. And you can never reach the fire spirits home, to win from them a flame to warm the little body into life. I pity the poor mother, and would most gladly help her, but alas, I am a spirit like yourself, and cannot serve you as I long to do. Ah, dear Queen, if you had seen her sorrow, you too would seek to keep the promise I have made. I cannot let her watch for me in vain, till I have done my best. Then tell me where the fire spirits dwell, and I will ask of them the flame that shall give life to the little child, and such great happiness to the sad, lonely mother. Tell me the path, and let me go. It is far, far away, high up above the sun, where no spirit ever dared to venture yet, replied the Queen. I cannot show the path, for it is through the air. Dear Ripple, do not go, for you can never reach that distant place. Somehow most surely will befall, and then how shall we live without our dearest, gentlest spirit? Stay here with us and in your own pleasant home, and think more of this, for I can never let you go. But Ripple would not break the promise she had made, and be sought so earnestly, and with such pleading words, that the Queen at last with sorrow gave consent, and Ripple joyfully prepared to go. She with her sister spirits, built up a tomb of delicate bright-colored shells wherein the child might lie, till she could come to wake him into life. Then, praying them to watch most faithfully above it, she said farewell, and floated bravely forth on her long, unknown journey far away. I will search the broad earth till I find a path up to the sun, or some kind friend who will carry me, for, alas, I have no wings, and cannot glide through the blue air as through the sea, said Ripple to herself, as she went dancing over the waves, which bore her swiftly onwards towards the distant shore. Long she journeyed through the pathless ocean, with no friends to cheer her, say if the white sea-birds who went sweeping by, and only stayed to dip their wide wings at her side, and then flew silently away. Sometimes great ships sailed by, and then with longly eyes did the little spirit gaze up at the faces that looked down upon the sea, for often they were kind and pleasant ones, and she gladly would have called to them and asked them to be friends. But they would never understand the strange, sweet language that she spoke, or even see the lovely face that smelled at them above the waters. Her blue transparent garments were but watered to their eyes, and the pearl changed in her hair but foam and sparkling spray. So hoping that the sea would be most gentle with them, silently she floated on her way, and left them far behind. At length green hills were seen, and the waves gladly bore the little spirit on, till, rippling gently over soft white sand, they left her on the pleasant shore. Ah, what a lovely place it is, said Ripple, as she passed through sunny valleys, where flowering began to bloom, and young leaves rustled on the trees. Why are you also gay, dear birds, she asked, as their cheerful voices sounded far and near. Is there a festival over the earth that all is so beautiful and bright? Do you not know that spring is coming? The warm winds whispered it days ago, and we were learning the sweetest songs to welcome her when she shall come, sang the lark, sowing away as the music gushed from his little throat. And I shall see her, Violet, as she journeys over the earth. Asked Ripple again, Yes, you will meet her soon, for the sound I told me she was near. Tell her we long to see her again, and are waiting to welcome her back, said the blue flower, dancing for joy on her stem, as she nodded in smile on the spirit. I will ask Spring, were the fire spirits dwell? She travels over the earth each year, and surely can show me the way, thought Ripple, as she went journeying on. Soon she saw spring come smiling over the earth. Sunbeams and breezes floated before, and then, with her white garments covered with flowers, and wreaths in her hair, and dew drops and seeds falling fast from her hands, the beautiful season came singing by. Here, Spring, will you listen, and help a poor little spirit who seeks far and wide for the fire spirits' home? cried Ripple, and then told why she was there, and begged her to tell what she sought. The fire spirits' home is far, far away, and I cannot guide you there, but summer is coming behind me, said Spring, and she may know better than I, but I will give you a breeze to help you on your way. It will never tire nor fail, but bear you easily over land and sea. Farewell, little spirit, I will gladly do more, but voices are calling me far and wide, and I cannot stay. Many thanks, kind Spring, cried Ripple, as she floated away on the breeze. Give a kindly word to the mother who waits on the shore, and tell her I have not forgotten my vow, but hope soon to see her again. Then Spring flew on with her sunshine and flowers, and Ripple went swiftly over hill and vale, till she came to the land where summer was dwelling. And the sun shone warmly down on the early fruit. The winds blew freshly over fields of fragrant hay, and rustles with a pleasant sound among the green leaves in the forests. Heavy dew fell softly down at night, and long, bright days brought strength and beauty to the blossoming earth. Now I must seek for summer, said Ripple, as she sailed slowly through the sunny sky. I am here. What would you with me, little spirit? Said a musical voice in her ear, and floating by her side, she saw a graceful form, with green robes fluttering in the air. This pleasant face looked kindly on her, from beneath a crown of golden sunbeams that cast warm bright glow on all beneath. Then Ripple told her tale, and asked where she should go. But summer answered, I could tell no more than my young sister Spring, where you may find the spirits that you seek. But I too, like her, will give a gift to aid you. Take the sunbeam from my crown, it will cheer and brighten the most gloomy path through which you pass. Farewell, I shall carry tidings of you to the water by the sea, if in my journey round the world I find her there. And summer, giving her the sunbeam, passed away over the distant hills, leaving all green and bright behind her. So Ripple journeyed on again, till the earth below her, shone with yellow harvest waving in the sun, and the air was filled with cheerful voices, as the reapers sang among the fields or in the pleasant vineyards, where purple fruit hung gleaming through the leaves, while the sky above was cloudless. And the changing forest trees shone like a mini-colored garland, over hill and plain, and here, along the ripening cornfields, with bright wreaths of crimson leaves and golden wheat ears in her hair, and on her purple mantle, stately on them passed, with a happy smile on her calm face, as she went scattering generous gifts from her full arms. But when the wandering spirit came to her, and asked for what she sought, this season like the others could not tell her where to go. So, giving her a yellow leaf, Autumn said, as she passed on, Ask Winter, little Ripple, when you come to his cold home, he knows the fire spirits well, for when he comes they fly to the earth to warm and cover those dwelling there, and perhaps he can tell you where they are. So take this gift of mine, and when you meet his chilly winds, fold it about you, and sit warm beneath the shelter, till you come to sunlight again. I will carry comfort to the patient woman, as my sisters have already done, and tell her you are faithful still. Then on went the never-tiring breeze, over forest, hill, and field, till the sky grew dark, and oblique winds whistled by. Then Ripple, folded in the soft warm leaf, looked sadly down on the earth, that seemed to lie so desolate and still, beneath its shroud of snow, and thought how bitter cold the leaves and flowers must be. For the little water spirit did not know that winter sped a soft white covering above their beds, that they might safely sleep below till spring should break in them again. So she went sorefully on, till winter, riding on the strong north wind, came rushing by, with a sparkling ice crown in his streaming hair, while from beneath his crimson cloak, her glittering frostwork, shone like silver threads, he scattered snow flicks far and wide. What do you seek with me, fair little spirit, that you come so bravely here amid my ice and snow? Do not fear me, I am warm at heart, though rude and cold without. Said winter, looking kindly on her, while the bright smile shone like sunlight on his pleasant face as it glowed and glistened in the frosty air. When Ripple told him why she had come, he pointed upward, where the sunlight dimly shone through the heavy cloud, saying, Far off there, beside the sun, is the fire spirit's home, and the only path is up, through cloud and mist. It is a long, strange path, for a lonely little spirit to be going. The fairies are wild, beautiful things, and in their play may harm and trouble you. Come back with me, and do not go this dangerous journey to the sky. I'll gladly bear you home again if you will come. That Ripple said, I cannot turn back now when I am nearly there. The spirit surely will not harm me. When I tell them why I am come, and if I win the flame, I shall be the happiest spirit in the sea, for my promise will be kept, and the poor mother happy once again. So, farewell winter, speak to her gently, and tell her to hope still, for I shall surely come. I do, little Ripple, may a good angel's watch above you, be bravely on, and take the snowflake that will never melt as my gift, winter cried, as the north wind bore him, on, leaving a cloud of falling snow behind. Now, dear breeze, Cepricle, fly straight upward through the air, until we reach the place we have so long been seeking. Some beam shall go before to light the way, yellow leaf shall shelter me from heat and rain, while snowflakes shall lie here beside me till it comes of use. So farewell to the pleasant earth, until we come again, and now away, up to the sun. When Ripple first began her airy journey, all was dark and dreary. Heavy clouds lay piled like hills around her, and a cold mist filled the air, but the sunbeam like a star lit up the way. The leaf lay warmly round her, and a tireless wind went swiftly on. Higher and higher they floated up. Still darker and darker grew the air, closer the damp mist gathered, while the black clouds rolled and tossed the great waves to and fro. Ah! sighed the weary little spirit. Shall I never see the light again, or feel the warm winds on my cheek? It is a dreary way indeed, and but for the season's gifts I should have perished long ago, but the heavy clouds must pass away at last, and I'll be fair again. So hasten on, good breeze, and bring me quickly to my journey's end. Cold vapours vanished from her path, and sunshine shone upon her pleasantly, so she went gaily on, till she came up among the stars, where many new, strange sights were to be seen. With wandering eyes she looked upon the bright worlds that once seemed dim and distant, when she gazed upon them from the sea. But now they moved around her, some shining with a softly radiant light, some circled with bright, mini-colored rings, while others burned with a red, angry glare. People would have gladly stayed to watch them longer, for she fancied low, sweet voices called her, and lovely faces seemed to look upon her as she passed. But higher up still, nearer to the sun, she saw a far-off light that glittered like a brilliant crimson star, and seemed to cast a rosy glow along the sky. The fire spirits surely must be there, and it must stay no longer here, said Repel. So steadily she floated on, till straight before her lay a broad, bright path that led up to a golden arch, beyond which she could see shapes flitting to and fro. As she drew near, brighter glowed the sky, hotter and hotter grew the air, till Repel's leaf cloak shriveled up and could no longer shield her from the heat. Then she unfolded the white snowflake, and gladly wrapped in the soft, cool mantle round her, entered through the shining arch. Through the red mist that floated all around her, she could see high walls of changing light, where orange, blue, and violet flames went flickering to and fro, making graceful figures as they danced and glowed, and underneath these rainbow arches, little spirits glided, far and near, wearing crowns of fire, beneath which flashed their wild bright eyes, and as they spoke, sparks dropped quickly from their lips, and Repel saw with wonder, through their garments of transparent light, that in each fairy's breast there burned a city flame, that never wavered or went out. As thus she stood, the spirits gathered round her, and their hot breath would scorch her, but she drew the snowflake closer round her, saying, Take me to your queen, that I might tell her why I am here, and ask for what I seek. So through long halls of many-colored fire, they led her to a spirit, fairer than the rest, whose crown of flames waved to and fro, like golden plumes. Little underneath her violet robe, the light within her breast glowed bright and strong. This is our queen, the spirits said, bending low before her, as she turned her gleaming eyes upon the stranger they had brought. Then Repel told how she had wandered round the world in search of them, how the seasons had most kindly helped her on, by giving sunbeam, breeze, leaf, and flake, and how, through many dangers, she had come at last to ask of them, the magic flame that could give life to the little child again. When she had told her tale, the spirits whispered earnestly among themselves, while sparks fell thick and fast with every word, at length the fire queen said aloud, We cannot give the flame you ask, for each of us must take a part of it from our own breasts, and this we will not do, for the brighter abysm fire burns, the lovelier we are. So do not ask us for this thing, for any other gift we will most gladly give, for we feel kindly towards you, and will serve you if we may. But Repel asked no other boon, and we beings have thee, beg them not to send her back without the gift, she had come so far to gain. O dear warm-hearted spirits, give me each a little light from your own breasts, and surely they will glow the brighter for this kindly deed, and I will thankfully repay it if I can. As thus she spoke, the queen, who had spied out of a chain of jewels repel war upon her neck, replied, If you will give me those bright, sparkling stones, I will bestow on you a part of my own flame, for we have no such lovely things to wear about our necks, and I desire much to have them. Will you give it to me for what I offer, little spirits? Joyfully, rebel gave her the chain, but, as soon as it touched her hand, the jewels melted like snow, and fell and bright drops to the ground. At this the queen's eyes flashed, and the spirits gathered angrily about poor Ripple, who looked sadly at the broken chain, and thought in vain what she could give, to win the things she longed so earnestly for. I have many fairer gems and knees in my home below the sea, and I will bring all I can gather, far and wide, if you will grant my prayer, and give me what I seek. She said, turning gently to the fiery spirits, who were harboring fiercely around her, you must bring us each a jewel that will never vanish from our hands as these have done, as they said, and we will each give of our fire, and when the child is brought to life, you must bring hither all the jewels you can gather from the depths of the sea, that we may try them here among the flames, but if they melt away like these, then we shall keep you prisoner, till you give us back the light we lend. If you consent to this, then take our gift and journey home again, but fail not to return, or we shall seek you out. And Ripple said she would consent, though she knew not if the jewels could be found. Still thinking of the promise she had made, she forgot all else and told the spirits what they asked most surely, should be done. So each one gave a little of the fire from their breasts, and placed a flame in a crystal vase, through which it shone and glittered like a star. Then bidding her remember all she had promised them, they led her to the golden arch and said farewell. So down along the shining path, through mist and cloud, she traveled back, till, far below, she saw the broad blue sea she left so long ago. Gladly she plunged into the clear, cool waves, and floated back to her pleasant home, where the spirits gathered joyfully about her, listening materials and smiles, as she told all her many wanderings, and showed the crystal vase that she had brought. Now come, said they, and finish the good work you have so bravely carried on. So to the quiet tomb they went, where, like a marble image, cold and still, the little child was lying. Then Ripple placed the flame upon his breast, and watched it gleam and sparkle there, while light came slowly back into the one-stem eyes, a rosy glow shone over the pale face, and breath stole through the parted lips, still brighter and warmer, burned the magic fire, until the child awoke from his long sleep, and looked in smiling wonder at the faces bending over him. Then Ripple sang for joy, and with her sister's spirits robed the child in graceful garments, woven of bright seaweed, while in his shining hair they weathed long garlands of their favorite flowers, and on his little arms hung chains of brilliant shells. Now come with us, dear child, said Ripple, we will bear you safely up into the sunlight and in the pleasant air, for this is not your home, and yonder on the shore there waits a loving friend for you. So up they went, through foam and spray, till on the beach, where the fresh winds played among her falling hair, and the waves broke sparkling at her feet. The lonely mother still stood, gazing wistfully across the sea. Suddenly, upon a great blue billow that came rolling in, she saw the water spirits smiling on her, and high aloft, in their white gleaming arms, her child stretched forth his hands to welcome her, while the little voice she so longed to hear again cried gaily, See, dear mother, I am come, and look what lovely things the gentle spirits gave, that I might see more beautiful to you. Then gently the great wave broke, and rolled back to the sea, leaving Ripple on the shore, and the child clasped in his mother's arms. O faithful little spirit, I would gladly give some precious gift to show my gratitude for this kind deed, but I have nothing save this chain of little pearls. They are the tears I shed, and the sea has changed them to us, that I might offer them to you. The happy mother said, when her first joy was passed, and Ripple turned to go, Yes, I will gladly wear your gift, and look upon it as my fairest ornament, the water spirit said, and with the pearls upon her breast, she left the shore, where the child was playing gaily to you and fro, and the mother's glad smile shone upon her, till she sank beneath the waves. And now, another task was to be done, her promise to the fairest spirits must be kept. So far and wide she searched among the caverns of the sea, and gathered all the brightest jewels shining there, and then upon her faithful breeze, once more went journeying through the sky. The spirits gladly welcomed her, and led her to the queen, before whom she poured out the sparkling gems she had gathered, with such toil and care. But when the spirits tried to form them into crowns, they trickled from their hands, like colored drops of dew, which the wonderful saw with fear and sorrow how they melted one by one away, till none of all the many she had brought remained. Then the fairest spirits looked upon her angrily, and when she begged them to be merciful, and let her try once more a saying, Do not keep me prisoner here, I cannot breathe the flame that gives you life. And but for the snow-mental I too should melt away, and vanish like the jewels in your hands. O dear spirits, give me some other task, but let me go from this one place, where all those strange and fearful, to a spirit of the sea. They would not listen, and drew nearer, saying, While bright sparks showered from their lips, we will not let you go, for you have promised to be ours if the gems you brought proved worthless. So fling away this cold white cloak, and bathe with us in the fire of fountains, and help us bring back to our bosom flames the light we gave you for the child. Then Ripple sank down on the burning floor, and felt that her life was nearly done, for she well knew the hot air of the fire palace would be death to her. The spirits gathered round, and began to lift her mantle off, but underneath they saw the pearl chain, shining with a clear, soft light, that only glowed more brightly when they laid their hands upon it. O give us this, cried they, it is far lovelier than all the rest, and does not melt away like them, and see how brilliantly it glitters in our hands. If we may but have this, all will be well, and you are once more free. Ripple, safe again beneath her snowflake, gladly gave the chain to them, and told them how the pearls they now placed proudly on their breast were formed of tears, which but for them might still be flowing. Then the spirits smiled most kindly on her, and would have put their arms about her, and have kissed her cheek, but she drew back, telling them that every touch of theirs was like a wound to her. Then if we may not tell our pleasure so, we will show it in a different way, and give you a pleasant journey home. Come out with us, the spirits said, and see the bright path we have made for you. So they led her to the lofty gate, and here, from sky to earth, a lovely rainbow arched its radiant colors in the sun. This is indeed a pleasant road, said Ripple. Thank you, friendly spirits, for your care, and now farewell. I would gladly stay yet longer, but we cannot dwell together, and I am longing sadly for my own cool home. Now sunbeam, breeze, leaf and flake, fly back to the seasons whence you came, and tell them that, thanks to their kind gifts, Ripple's work at last is done. Then down along the shining pathway spread before her, the happy little spirit glided to the sea. Thanks, dear summer wind, said the queen, we will remember the lessons you have each taught us, and when next we meet in Ferndale, you shall tell us more. And now, dear trip, call them from the lake, for the moon is sinking fast, and we want to taste in home. The elves gathered about their queen, and while the russing leaves were still, and the flower-sweet voices mingled with their own, they sang this. End of Chapter 8 Recording by Jennifer Stearns, Concord, New Hampshire Ferry song of Flower Fables This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Read by Clarica. Flower Fables by Louisa May Alcott. Ferry song. The moonlight fades from flower and tree, and the stars dim one by one. The tale is told the song is sung, and the fairy feast is done. The night wind rocks the sleeping flowers, and sings to them soft and low. The early bird's ear long will wake, tis time for the elves to go. Or the sleeping earth we silently pass, unseen by mortal eye, and send sweet dreams as we lightly float through the quiet, moonlit sky. For the star's soft eyes alone may see, and the flowers alone may know. The feasts we hold, the tales we tell, so tis time for the elves to go. From bird and blossom and bee, we learn the lessons they teach, and seek, by kindly deeds, to win a loving friend in each. And though unseen on earth we dwell, sweet voices whisper low, and gentle hearts most joyously greet the elves where ere they go. When next we meet in the fairy-dell, may the silver moon's soft light shine then on faces gay as now, and elfin hearts as light. Now spread each wing for the eastern sky, with sunlight soon will glow. The morning star shall light us home. Farewell for the elves must go. As the music ceased with the soft rustling sound, the elves spread their shining wings, and flew silently over the sleeping earth. The flowers closed their bright eyes, the little winds were still, for the feast was over, and the fairy lessons ended. And a fairy song, and a flower fables, by Louisa May Alcott.