Dame Martha's Step-daughter Or The Grandmother Of The Gnomes
: The Old-fashioned Fairy BookDame Martha lived at the foot of a high mountain. Her cottage was large
enough to give shelter only to herself and two young girls, one of them
her own child and the other the child of Dame Martha's late husband,
who, about six months before this story opens, slipped down a fissure in
the rocks and had nevermore been seen. Dame Martha did not bear a very
good character in the neighborhood, as she was known to be violent in
quarrelled with him from morning till night, and after he disappeared,
people used to hint that Dame Martha knew better than any one else how
the poor man came to his sudden death. But nothing was ever proved upon
her, and as the dame's cottage stood in a desolate valley, overshadowed
by a frowning cliff on which grew a single lightning-blasted pine-tree,
children shunned the lonely spot, and few grown people found anything to
attract them in that direction. Margaret, the dame's own daughter, was a
handsome haughty lass of about nineteen, so spoiled and self-willed that
she bid fair to rival her mother in temper, in the course of time.
Hilda, the step-daughter, was a fair and gentle little creature, sixteen
years of age, who bore with patient cheerfulness all the unhappiness of
her lot. Sometimes, for days together, she would be left alone in the
house, while Dame Martha and Margaret dressed themselves up in all their
finery, and went off to fairs and merrymakings in the neighboring town.
Melancholy were the hours spent in a solitude unbroken save by the rush
of the waterfall leaping from cliff to cliff, or the hootings of owls
after nightfall, and the unceasing wail of the wind through the forest.
But Hilda was at least spared the sound of Margaret's taunting voice and
laugh, and the cruel scolding tongue of her step-mother. These two
wicked women were heartily tired of Hilda, and cast about in their
minds how they could get rid of her, and take possession of a little bag
of gold pieces coming to her from her father. Then, thought they, the
old house could be shut up and left to the rats and bats, while they
might set out on their travels and enjoy life.
One day, when Hilda was bleaching the linen on a patch of grass near the
brook, her step-mother called out, "Hilda, the red cow has strayed away,
and I hear her bell over by the old stone quarry. Be quick, and you may
head her off."
Hilda secured her linen, and with nimble steps, ran up the steep
mountain side. She did not fancy the idea of going by the old stone
quarry, for there it had been, six months before, that her dear father
was last seen in life. Near that spot his hat and shepherd-staff had
been found. But Hilda was accustomed to obey without remonstrance, and
away she ran, climbing as lightly as a mountain goat. She too, could
hear the tinkle of the little bell far up among the bushes, and guided
by the sound, she drew near the dreaded scene of her greatest sorrow. A
thick screen of fir bushes lay between her and the red cow's place of
refuge. Interwoven with evergreens, grew masses of alpine-rose, whose
tough branches became entangled in Hilda's feet, and hid the path from
sight. At last, she found herself in a dense thicket, not knowing how to
emerge. As she paused for a moment to look about her, the red cow's bell
tinkled again--a strange uncertain tinkle this--immediately behind the
bushes at her left.
"There you are, good-for-nothing!" cried Hilda, struggling bravely
forward through the undergrowth in the direction indicated by the bell.
She heard a low mocking laugh. Surely that laugh could come only from
her step sister! "Margaret!" she called. No answer, and poor Hilda,
uttering a wild shriek for help, plunged headlong down a hidden opening
in the ground, into a fathomless abyss, where no foot of man might
follow her.
Wicked Margaret stood on the brink of this treacherous pit-fall, known
only to her mother and herself, and laughed, holding in her hand the
little red cow's bell, with which she had lured Hilda to her doom.
"Rest there!" the wretched girl said, kneeling down to peer into the
darkness of the rocky pit. "At any rate, you have found a burial-place
for your bones, alongside of your father, who was never heard to groan
after my mother and I pushed him over the brink here, last autumn! And
now, I will go home, and tell the old woman that we are rid of all our
burdens. Ha! ha! Won't we spend the father's gold, and revel! This very
night must we steal away, and seek our fortune in a distant country."
Hilda fell, unharmed, upon a hillock of soft green moss, so far, so far
beneath the ledge whence Margaret had pushed her, that the opening above
looked no bigger than a star. The poor girl was overcome by her terrible
fate, and for a long time she lay weeping as if her heart would break.
Then, looking about her, she saw the opening to a cavern in the rocks,
resembling an arch of crystal, so bravely did it glitter.
Around the hillock where she lay was a small courtyard with turf as
smooth as velvet, and upon the rocky walls encircling it were trained
vines of roses, myrtle and jasmine, covered with lovely blossoms. Hilda,
who knew best the alp-rose and the corn-flower, the hardy violet and the
rock-seeking columbine, had never seen such rare and radiant flowers as
these, and their rich perfume intoxicated her with delight. Stealing
down the side of the cliff, trickled a sparkling rivulet, its stream
caught in a basin of gleaming pearl. Hilda, enchanted by the lovely
scene, forgot her grief, and felt a longing desire to follow the path of
many-colored pebbles leading beneath the crystal arch. Without a token
of fear, she tripped along this pretty path winding through a gallery
supported by pillars of frosted silver. Here and there glowed a lamp of
pink, blue or crimson, fashioned like a flower. Strains of sweet music
were heard in the distance, and at last Hilda reached a gate of golden
trellis-work, beside which slept a tiny old man, whose beard and hair
fell over his red mantle to the very ground.
"He is very old, and no doubt needs his rest," said Hilda; "I won't
disturb him, poor old man." So she sat down on the ground at his feet,
and every time his head nodded to his knees, she would pick up the queer
little red cap that fell off of it, and put it on again. After a long,
comfortable nap, the old fellow woke up, and saw Hilda sitting at his
feet.
"You are a kind maiden," he said, for he was of a race that know
everything without waiting to be told--the Gnomes. "Since you have been
so good to me, I will let you pass the wicket. Six months ago your
father came this way, and if you can but make friends with our mistress,
you may be allowed to see him."
"My father! My dear father!" cried Hilda, overjoyed. "Oh! you good, kind
gateman, do lead me to where he is."
"Hush! not a sound," said the Gnome, looking about him in alarm.
"Everything has ears and tongues too in this place. One warning will I
give you. Answer not when spoken to, serve faithfully, break nothing,
show no surprise; and when you can capture the bird that bathes daily in
the fountain of life, save the drops from off his plumage. Now go on;
and farewell, as no one who passes me comes back this way."
Hilda was frightened by the mystery of the warning, but continued on her
way, through a long and winding passage in the rocks, dimly lighted here
and there by hanging lamps of alabaster. Reaching another little
wicket-gate of golden trellis-work, she summoned all her courage and
rang the bell. Out came a hideous crone, whose ears, grown to an
enormous size, hung down upon her neck, and who, without asking her
business, opened the gate.
"If ears grow like this," thought Hilda, "I had, indeed, better hold my
tongue and say nothing to give offence." So, pretending to be dumb, she
curtsied to the crone, and made signs that she wanted food and drink.
The old woman led Hilda along the path of a neglected garden, to a house
built of gray lichen from the bark of trees, and thatched with hoary
moss. The windows were barred, and in the open doorway sat a cross old
dame, at her knitting. She had a hump, ears larger than those of the
lodge-keeper, and claws hooked like an eagle's.
"What! another of those foolish mortals fallen down our pit!" she cried,
angrily; "I have half a mind to kill her on the spot." But Hilda looked
so meek and imploring, standing there and saying not a word, that the
Grandmother of the Gnomes relented. "Well, well," she grunted,
"although she is decidedly overgrown, and has ridiculously small ears, I
suppose I may as well try her for a nurse-maid. If she proves
unfaithful, there will be plenty to tell of it, and she will soon go the
way of all the rest."
Hilda was pleased at the idea of being a nurse-maid, for she always got
on well with children. She followed the G. G. (really, if you will
excuse me, it will save a great deal of trouble sometimes to abbreviate
the old lady's title) inside the queer little house, and there was a
room full of owls, bats, toads, mice, and spiders, who came flocking
around the new-comer, with every expression of delight.
"Oh! you pretty darlings!" cried the old woman, kissing them
rapturously, "here is a new nurse for you; and mind you keep her busy."
When Hilda found that she was expected to bathe, and clean, and walk out
with, and sleep with these loathsome creatures, she felt that she had
rather die. But fear of the terrible G. G. kept her silent, and setting
about her task, she soon had them ready for an airing in the garden.
Here she beheld many strange sights, but nothing more curious than to
see all the bushes and plants and trees bearing large ears, which, as
she drew near, became erect and fixed in an attitude of attention.
Remembering the caution of the friendly gnome to express no surprise,
Hilda drove her little flock before her along the garden path, then
returning to the house, fed them and put them to bed in the most orderly
fashion. For reward, she found, on a bench outside the door, a nice bowl
of milk with fine white bread and butter, and after devouring it
eagerly, she fell asleep. When she awoke next day, Hilda found herself
in another garden. This one was most beautiful. All the rose-bushes had
gold or silver leaves, and flowers made of jewels. She longed to twitch
off one of the shining leaves, but dared not, contenting herself with
watering their roots and neatly clearing up the paths, as the Gnome
Grandmother had directed her. For reward, she had a bowl of delicious
hot soup, and a cup of amber jelly, and falling asleep, she awakened
next day in still another garden. Here sported birds of radiant hue and
plumage, singing delightfully, as they flitted about the brim of a great
marble fountain on a grassy lawn, surrounded by blooming flowers.
"Here, children, I bring you a new nurse-maid," said the Gnome
Grandmother, presenting her to the birds; and immediately, the lovely
creatures surrounded Hilda, perching on her arms, her head, her
shoulders, and caressing her with evident pleasure.
"Now that you have successfully met my three tests--the first, of your
fidelity, by doing your duty toward the creatures you abhorred;
secondly, by passing through my jewel-garden without plucking a flower
or leaf; thirdly, by showing no surprise at the wonders you have
seen--you have proved yourself worthy to be the keeper of my birds,"
said the old woman. "It is well for you that the ears have heard no
grumbling. And mind you go on as you've begun."
Hilda thanked her with beaming glances, but would not venture to speak,
although she longed to ask news of her dear father. "To those who wait,
all things come in time," she remembered her father used to say, and
determined not to break silence yet a while. The Grandmother of the
Gnomes disappeared, and Hilda set herself to the task of caring for her
new and lovely pets. Around the garden were bowers of sweet-smelling
honeysuckle, and in each of these hung a silver cage. Hilda's duty was
to cover the bottoms of the cages with sand of broken diamonds, to
gather fresh sprays of flowers to stick between their bars, and to fill
the jewelled drinking-troughs with dew from the cups of flowers. Day
after day passed in attendance upon the birds, who all became devoted to
her, in return. Each morning the Grandmother of the Gnomes came into the
garden, and sometimes even smiled on Hilda, her grin making her ugliness
and deformity seem to increase, if possible. Still Hilda dared not speak
the words that were always trembling on her tongue. When night came, the
young girl retired to rest in a delightful little house shaped from a
bush of growing box, out of which doors and windows had been cut. Within
was a bed of moss like velvet, and a coverlet made of the woven wings of
the butterfly, with blankets of swansdown. Her meals were served by
unseen hands. Punctually at breakfast, dinner, and tea-time, there
sprang up in the bower house a little table shaped like a huge mushroom,
covered with dainty food in dishes of gold and silver. New clothes were
prepared for her, and laid across the foot of her couch while she slept.
Among them were gauzy gowns that seemed to have been cut from the clouds
after sunset, cobweb handkerchiefs, shoes made of mole-skin, and
necklaces of petrified dew-drops. Hilda might have been quite happy but
for the continual thought that her father was imprisoned somewhere near,
and her longing to find him and tell him she was there. One night, while
she lay thinking, apparently asleep, footsteps came to the side of her
bed, and stopped. Somebody held a lamp close to her face, but Hilda
pretended to be in a deep slumber, and soon the G. G., for she it was,
went away, pattering about the bower, and talking to the old
lodge-keeper, who followed her.
"She is sound asleep, so come along. We are already a little late for
our round among the prisoners. Foolish creatures! Why hadn't they, too,
the sense to restrain themselves as this child did, and they might all
have been working in the gardens, to this day. But no! Each one must
needs twitch off a leaf here, or a rose there, and stare, and chatter
over what they saw, or else go into convulsions over the work given them
to do for my pretty toads, and bats, and serpents. That silly father of
hers, for example! He seemed an honest fellow, but what should he do,
when he thought no one was looking, but pluck one of my choicest ruby
roses to carry back to Hilda. Hum! much likelihood there is that Hilda
ever finds out where he is hidden, after a crime like that!"
The Grandmother of the Gnomes seemed to have worked herself up into such
an angry state, that Hilda dared not give any sign of waking. So she
lay, still as a mouse, till the old couple had laid across her couch the
new robe for next day, and trotted off. Then, gliding swiftly from her
bed, the girl followed them, down a long green alley of the garden, to a
grassy bank she had often noticed. There, putting her hand upon a
trap-door, half hidden from sight by a mass of vines, the old crone
knocked thrice, saying, "Open to the Grandmother of the Gnomes!"
The door opened, and behind it was a narrow passage-way guarded by two
dwarfs in red. No one spoke, and the dwarfs, prostrating themselves upon
their faces, remained motionless while their sovereign lady passed in.
Hilda seized this opportunity to follow, and crept unnoticed to the
mouth of a circular vault of gray granite, hung with curtains of black
velvet and lighted by swinging lamps of lurid red. In the centre was a
long row of white marble tombs, and on each one of these tombs lay a
human being apparently asleep, enclosed in a crystal casket. With a
thrill of emotion, Hilda recognized in one of these placid sleepers her
beloved father. The Grandmother of the Gnomes walked past each bier,
sprinkling it with the liquid from a vial in her hand. At once the
sleepers aroused and sat up, rolling their eyes and extending their arms
to her with a beseeching gesture. The G. G. sternly shook her head, and
proceeded to open a little door in each casket, through which the old
lodge-keeper gave food and drink to all the prisoners in turn. The poor
wretches ate and drank in silence, then turning over on their sides, the
crone waved her wand above them, and instantly they fell again into a
trance-like sleep.
"Sleep now, till this day week!" said the Grandmother of the Gnomes,
solemnly, retiring as she came. Hilda hid in a nook of the wall of rock,
and followed her guides out, noiselessly and unnoticed by the prostrate
dwarfs in red.
And now her sole thought was how she might get possession of the
reviving liquid. Alone and unprotected as she was, at the mercy of her
gnome mistress, Hilda knew not where to turn for help. In the extremity
of her distress, she thought of what the friendly gnome at the outer
gate had said to her. "When you can capture the bird that bathes in the
water of life, save the drops from off his plumage." But although Hilda
racked her brain for a solution of the mystery, none could she find. All
day long her birds came and went among the branches of the beautiful
garden, and at night returned to their silver cages in the honeysuckle
bowers. The only bath she had ever seen them take, was in the wide
marble basin on the grass-plot beneath the fountain. At last, lying down
to rest one day upon a bank of lilies, she fell asleep, and in her
dreams, heard two of the birds talking on the bough above.
"To-morrow, our friend, the little brown wren returns from his travels
to the Spring of Life," said one of them.
"Yes, he has been gone longer than usual, this time," said the other.
"What a lucky creature he is to have gained our mistress's favor, and to
be allowed to take those baths, which have the power to make him know
everything, live forever, and sing more sweetly than the nightingale."
"There is something mysterious about that wren, undoubtedly," sighed the
first bird. "Nobody knows whether it is fear or favor that gains so many
more privileges for him than for the rest of us. Do you know that if he
should ever drop the single golden feather in his tail, he will become
like the rest of us again, a slave and captive? And the lucky person who
finds it, will be able to see all the hidden treasures of the caves
beneath the mountain, pierce his way through solid rock and iron, and
even defy the authority of our Sovereign Lady herself!"
Hilda listened, her heart beating high with hope. Next day, indeed,
there came a new bird among her charges, a little brown wren, who sat
upon the topmost twig of the highest tree in the garden, and dried and
smoothed his feathers, singing so exquisitely that all the others
gathered around him in delight, while the disconsolate lark and
nightingale, canary, mocking-bird and wood-robin, retired to a thicket
of green leaves, and wept for jealousy.
Spite of all Hilda's blandishments and wiles, the little brown wren
would never come near enough for her to handle him. She could see him,
flying amid the upper branches, the single golden feather in his tail
shining splendidly, but nothing secured his presence within reach or
touch. Even the Grandmother of the Gnomes was powerless to control the
wilful creature.
Weeks passed and Hilda was always on guard to follow the Gnome
Grandmother and her attendant upon their expeditions to the crypt where
the prisoners were kept. By means of the stratagem she had first
employed, she never failed to be present when her father was so
mysteriously recalled to life, and then dismissed again into the shadowy
border-land of death. Although she could not speak to him, or tell him
she was near, it was some comfort to see him arise up strong and well.
Oh! if the day should come, when she might capture that tantalizing
little brown bird! He had become less shy with her of late, and more
inclined to perch upon the branch above her head, and, while keeping a
safe distance, observe her motions closely. At last, one evening, quite
disheartened, Hilda went within her own little bowery house, and sat her
down and wept. For the first time since her arrival in the gnome garden,
she spoke aloud.
"Oh! I can bear it no longer. My heart will break! My heart will
break."
To Hilda's utter astonishment, a voice came from the foliage around her
window, in reply.
"Cheer up, dear maiden; the sound of a human voice has broken the spell
cast over me, and I now see you as you are. I am he whom you have known
as the little brown bird, in reality a mortal prince, bewitched by that
wicked old woman, the Grandmother of the Gnomes, who makes everything
within her kingdom subservient to her power. She is my deadly enemy,
because I once discovered the secret of her fountain of life; and, when
on a journey thither with my followers, I was captured and changed into
my present shape, while they, poor creatures, were carried prisoners to
her crypt. Should I regain my shape, it can only be done by the help of
a being brave and true like yourself."
"But why, why did you not make friends with me at first?" said the
joyful Hilda.
"The spell cast upon me forbade my recognizing one of my own kind,
unless she or he spoke, and you know how human speech is punished in
this place. For three long years I have lived in solitude, compelled by
the crone to fly back and forth to fetch her the water of life for her
magical incantations; what I receive upon my own plumage, while drawing
the water for her, has, however, secured my immortality. As for my
golden plume it is the magic blade presented to me at birth, by a
wonderful old wiseman, who said that it would point me to the treasures
beneath the earth, defy the powers of evil, and pierce its way through
solid rock. This sword, the Grandmother of the Gnomes was unable, much
as she wished to do so, to deprive me of. The utmost she could
accomplish was to transform it into a golden plume. Should I ever be so
unfortunate as to drop it, the finder will be my conqueror. See what
confidence I have in your goodness of heart, when I thus give my life
into your hands."
"Never could I be so base as to betray you, dear prince," said Hilda
joyfully.
"Oh! speak on, loveliest of maidens," cried the disguised prince. "Every
syllable you utter brings back life and hope to my sad heart. Strange
that I should have watched you come and go without knowing what you are.
It was the first utterance of your silvery voice in lamentation that
awakened my benumbed senses. Now, shall we not work together for our
deliverance?"
Gladly did Hilda pour forth all the story of her woes to her newly found
confidant. The prince bade her to be of good cheer, for it was his
intention to set forth on the morrow upon his monthly journey in search
of the water of life.
"A week hence I shall return, and although it would be impossible for me
to secrete any of the precious fluid so that our mistress would fail to
find it out, yet I will take care to saturate my plumage with the water,
so that you can obtain enough to free your father and the other
sufferers. That done, we can proceed to stronger measures. Only be
guided by me, and obey all I tell you to do, and I promise you release
and happiness."
Hilda promised and the brown bird took his leave. Next day he was no
longer to be seen in the higher tree-tops, and after a week's absence,
he arrived at nightfall dripping wet, and perched upon Hilda's window.
Carefully did Hilda collect every drop that fell from his plumage, and
when next she followed the Grandmother of the Gnomes into the fatal
crypt, it was with joyful footsteps, for in her hand she concealed a
leaf-cup full of the elixir of life. Not even Hilda noticed that the
little brown bird also entered the crypt when she did. On this occasion,
she waited as usual to see the prisoners aroused and fed, then cast
again into sleep; but instead of following the two crones on their
return, she remained concealed in her crevice of the rock, and saw close
upon her the doors of this living tomb. Now a sudden terror overtook
her, and her knees trembled.
"Oh, dearest little bird, were you but by my side!" she whispered
imploringly.
"I am here, Hilda," came in a well-known voice. "Remember that all
depends upon your courage and obedience. Go up to the crystal caskets
and sprinkle a drop upon each in turn."
Hilda did so, and in a few moments had the inexpressible joy of seeing
about twenty brave knights and other captives arise from their couches
of marble. Last of all came her beloved father, who clasped her to his
breast with rapture unspeakable.
"Now there is not a moment to be lost," said the brown bird, flying to
Hilda. "Here, brave maiden, pluck the golden feather from my tail."
Hilda obeyed, and found that she held a shining sword within her hand.
"Quick, stab me to the heart!" said the bird.
Hilda burst into tears and pleaded with him to spare her; but the brown
bird reminded her that, because of the water of life, he could never
really die; so the young girl, trembling in every limb, plunged the
blade into his breast.
As the warm blood rushed forth, a cloud of vapor arose, filling the
cave; and blowing presently away, it revealed to all present the face
and figure of a gallant youth, who, proud and smiling, knelt at Hilda's
feet.
"Now is the enchantment banished!" he cried, as his friends,
recognizing their master, came flocking around him in delight. "But we
must not again venture into the precincts of the gnome's garden, for who
knows what might befall our lovely lady here? Come, my brave sword,
point us a way of exit."
Swinging it in the air above his head, he brought the blade into a
horizontal line in front of him. At once the sword pointed to a fissure
in the walls of the crypt, and as the rescued band approached, it slowly
widened to an opening through which a man might pass.
This was not a moment too soon, for the dwarfs on guard had discovered
their attempt to escape, and a shrill whistle sounded in their ears.
Swift as the lightning flash arrived the Grandmother of the Gnomes, this
time in her worst aspect, fire darting from her eyes. Behind her came an
army of angry little men in red, with hammers in their uplifted hands,
prepared to do battle to the death. What was their fury to find the
biers empty, and a long line of stalwart men, led by Hilda, escaping
through a doorway in the solid rock! The last to depart was the prince,
and advancing upon him with a horrible yell and glare of defiance came
the Grandmother of the Gnomes. The prince met her with extended sword,
and the enchanted blade pierced her to the heart. The frightened gnomes,
surrounding their dead chief, laid her upon the marble slab from which
Hilda's father had arisen, and then flew in pursuit of the avenger. But
it was too late. The rocky wall had closed upon the retreating party,
and the Grandmother of the Gnomes arose no more from her final
resting-place.
The divining-sword led Hilda and her companions straightway to the
surface of the earth, taking care, as they passed it by, to point out
sufficient hidden treasure to enrich every man of the party. As for the
prince, as he was already the owner of one of the richest kingdoms of
the world, all he desired was to regain it, in company with his beloved
Hilda, who by this time had pledged herself to be his bride. Hilda's
father accompanied them to the palace of the prince, and was by him
ennobled and enriched. The marriage took place, and just as the guests
were enjoying the festivities, the new queen saw her servants turning
away from the door a miserable-looking pair of beggar women. Bidding
these pitiful creatures draw near to receive her alms, the queen
recognized in them Dame Martha and her daughter. Such was the generosity
of her nature, that Hilda could not resist disclosing her self to them,
and assuring them that the accident of her fall had been the means of
securing her wonderful good fortune.
She ordered fine clothes and fine rooms to be prepared for the couple,
and would have forgiven them entirely, but that her father and the
prince, interfering, ordered the wicked schemers to be driven from the
house and kingdom.
Some time after, Dame Martha and Margaret reappeared in the neighborhood
of their old home. They were very sullen and close-mouthed, and were
last seen hovering around the mountain-side in the direction of the old
stone quarry, after which they were lost to human view.
The facts in the case are that Dame Martha's envy of her step-daughter
led her to the desperate resolve to herself descend into the pit in
company with her amiable child. Upon reaching the dwelling of the late
Grandmother of the Gnomes, they were immediately seized and made to do
duty in the cellar with the toads, mice, serpents, owls, and bats, where
in all probability they are still enjoying life in congenial
companionship.
Hilda and her prince lived a long and happy life. The bright sword hung
unused upon the wall, as no enemies appeared against whom to unsheath
it, and the prince never again felt tempted to risk a visit to the
kingdom of the gnomes.
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Collop Monday, Pancake Tuesday, Ash Wednesday, Bludee Thursday, Friday's lang, but will be dune, And hey for Saturday afternune! Verses for Shrove-tide, Collop-Monday being a North-country name for Shrove-Mo... Colours
Colour-superstitions, though rapidly disappearing, still obtain in the remote rural districts. The following lines were obtained from the East of England: Blue is true, Yellow's jealous, Green's forsaken, Red's brazen, ... Columbus And The Egg
BY JAMES BALDWIN (ADAPTED) [8] One day Columbus was at a dinner which a Spanish gentleman had given in his honor, and several persons were present who were jealous of the great admiral's success. They were proud, conceited fellows, and they v... Columbus At La Rabida
BY WASHINGTON IRVING (ADAPTED) About half a league from the little seaport of Palos de Moguer, in Andalusia, there stood, and continues to stand at the present day, an ancient convent of Franciscan friars, dedicated to Santa Maria de Rabida. O... Come Out To Play
Boys and girls, come out to play, The moon does shine as bright as day; Leave your supper, and leave your sleep, And meet your playfellows in the street, Come with a whoop and come with a call, Come with a good will o... Commonwealth Of Australia
The Commonwealth of Australia, created by an act of the Imperial Parliament in 1900 (63 and 64 Vic. cap. 12), is a federal State under the supreme authority of the Crown of Great Britain. This act of Parliament not only created a federal Commonw... Companions
BY HELEN HUNT JACKSON During the whole of one of a summer's hottest days I had the good fortune to be seated in a railway car near a mother and four children, whose relations with each other were so beautiful that the pleasure of watching them ... Conall Yellowclaw
Conall Yellowclaw was a sturdy tenant in Erin: he had three sons. There was at that time a king over every fifth of Erin. It fell out for the children of the king that was near Conall, that they themselves and the children of Conall came to blows.... Conclusion
Our collection of vernacular scraps, which, like the "brave beggars of Coudingham fair," have been gathered from the lanes and by-ways, is now brought to a conclusion. They are, it must be confessed, but literary vagrants at the best; but they bre... Connla And The Fairy Maiden
Connla of the Fiery Hair was son of Conn of the Hundred Fights. One day as he stood by the side of his father on the height of Usna, he saw a maiden clad in strange attire towards him coming. "Whence comest thou, maiden?" said Connla. "I come... Convent Gnothi
The Queen gave money to the old woman, and bought the apple from her. Then she peeled it, ate it, and threw the rind out of the window, and it so happened that a mare that was running loose in the court below ate up the rind. After a time the Qu... Cornelia's Jewels
BY JAMES BALDWIN It was a bright morning in the old city of Rome many hundred years ago. In a vine-covered summer-house in a beautiful garden, two boys were standing. They were looking at their mother and her friend, who were walking amon... Counsel without help is useless.
The Ass and the Wolf AN ASS feeding in a meadow saw a Wolf approaching to seize him, and immediately pretended to be lame. The Wolf, coming up, inquired the cause of his lameness. The Ass replied that passing through a hedge he had trod with ... Counting The Fingers
This is the thumb, you see; This finger shakes the tree; And then this finger comes up; And this one eats the plums up; This little one, says he, "I'll tell of you, you'll see!" That one is the thumb... Counting-out Rhymes
The operation of counting-out is a very important mystery in many puerile games. The boys or girls stand in a row, and the operator begins with the counting-out rhyme, appropriating a word to each, till he comes to the person who receives the last w... Court News
BY LUCY FITCH PERKINS The king and queen went out to-day, A-riding on a load of hay. The king fell off and lost his crown, The queen fell, too, and tore her gown. ... Crinkleroot; Or Who Hid The Salad?
<p>It has long been the custom of the Brownies to have a great feast on the first of the merry month of May, to celebrate the return of the spring.</p> <div> <img src="/images/i073.png" alt="The Crinkleroot; or Who Hid the Salad?" title="The Crinklero... Cromwell And His Ironsides
When Charles I came to the throne of England, it was soon seen that he was as bad a king as his father James I had been. He did not care at all for the good of his country and his people, but thought only of his own pleasure. He took away men's ... Cross Patch
Cross patch, Draw the latch, Sit by the fire and spin; Take a cup, And drink it up, And call your neighbors in. ... Crows
In Essex they have a rhyme respecting crows very similar to that above quoted regarding magpies. The following lines are said to be true, if crows fly towards you: One's unlucky, Two's lucky; Three is health, Four is wea... Crystals
If you pour salt into water and stir it, the salt will begin to melt and will entirely disappear; but if you pour more and still more salt into it, the salt will in the end not dissolve, and no matter how much you may stir after that, the salt wil... Cuckstone
If you would go to a church miswent, You must go to Cuckstone in Kent. So said because the church is "very unusual in proportion." Lelandi Itin. ed. 1744, ii. 137. ... Cuffy And The Cave
Nimble did not spend all his spare moments with the other Spike Horns. Once in a while he met Cuffy Bear prowling about near the foot of Blue Mountain. But Nimble never had a mock battle with Cuffy. Cuffy Bear was a famous boxer. And in each of hi... Cuffy Bear Wakens
The winter after Nimble lost his spike horns was a mild one. The snowfall was light. And Nimble was able to roam up and down Pleasant Valley and about Blue Mountain as he pleased. It happened that a certain bright day in early spring found him f... Cuffy Is Missing
Far up on the dark mountainside, in the driving snow, Nimble waited in front of the cave where Cuffy Bear had vanished. And all the time Nimble was growing more uneasy. He feared that Cuffy Bear might be in some sort of trouble. Nimble looked a... Cunning Ileane
Once upon a time something happened. If it had not happened, it would not be told. There was once an emperor who had three daughters; the oldest was beautiful, the middle one more beautiful, but the youngest, Ileane, was so fair that even the sun ... Cupid And Psyche
BY JOSEPHINE PRESTON PEABODY THE ENCHANTED PALACE Once upon a time, through that Destiny that overrules the gods, Love himself gave up his immortal heart to a mortal maiden. And thus it came to pass:-- There was a certain king who had three ... Custom-rhymes
It is greatly to be feared that, notwithstanding the efforts made within the last few years by individuals who have desired to see the resuscitation of the merry sports and customs of old England, the spirit which formerly characterised them is no... Dabbling In The Dew
The following pretty ballad appears to be a humorous imitation of an Elizabethan eclogue-song. Its style guarantees its antiquity: Oh, where are you going, My pretty maiden fair, With your red rosy cheeks, And your co... Daffy-down-dilly
Daffy-down-dilly is new come to town, With a petticoat green, and a bright yellow gown, And her white blossoms are peeping around. ... Dame Cricket's Story
"Come, children, it is time to get up," said Dame Cricket to her ten little crickets. "Hurry, now, and take your bath and put on your little black caps and your little brown suits. The sun has almost gone down over the hill and the birds will... Dame Grumble And Her Curious Apple Tree
I Long, long ago, in a country quite close to the top of the earth, where the North Wind blew fiercely each spring, there lived a woman called Dame Grumble. Now Dame Grumble had an Apple Tree which she loved exceedingly, although it vexed her b... Dame Martha's Step-daughter Or The Grandmother Of The Gnomes
Dame Martha lived at the foot of a high mountain. Her cottage was large enough to give shelter only to herself and two young girls, one of them her own child and the other the child of Dame Martha's late husband, who, about six months before this ... Dancing Looby
Now we dance looby, looby, looby, Now we dance looby, looby, light. Shake your right hand a little And turn you round about. Now we dance looby, looby, looby, Shake your right hand a little, Shake your ... Daphne
BY OVID (ADAPTED) In ancient times, when Apollo, the god of the shining sun, roamed the earth, he met Cupid, who with bended bow and drawn string was seeking human beings to wound with the arrows of love. "Silly boy," said Apollo, "what dost th... Daphne
Daphne was the daughter of the River Peneus. She was a beautiful child and her father loved her more than anything else in the world. Her home was in a cave which he had cut for her in a great white cliff. The walls of the cave were of marb... Dapplegrim
THERE was once upon a time a couple of rich folks who had twelve sons, and when the youngest was grown up he would not stay at home any longer, but would go out into the world and seek his fortune. His father and mother said that they thought he was... David Livingstone
At one time many people believed that the middle of Africa was a sandy desert, where nothing could live but camels and ostriches. But they were mistaken. The great traveller, David Livingstone, journeyed into this unknown country, and he found tha... Day-dreaming
Now there was once a man at Bagdad who had seven sons, and when he died he left to each of them one hundred dirhems; and his fifth son, called Alnaschar the Babbler, invested all this money in some glassware, and, putting it in a big tray, from wh... Days Of Birth
Monday's child is fair in face, Tuesday's child is full of grace, Wednesday's child is full of woe, Thursday's child has far to go, Friday's child is loving and giving, Saturday's child works hard for its living... Deep-sea Violets
In a modest hut upon the sea-shore, half-hidden from sight by an enormous bank of drifted sand, lived a fisherman and his wife, with their twin-children, John and Emma. Theirs was a hard life, and full of privations; but the husband and wife lo... Denmark
Justice is administered in Denmark in the first instance by the judges of the hundreds in the rural communities and by the city magistrates in the urban districts. Appeals from such courts lie to the superior courts of Copenhagen and Viborg, and i... Diablo And The Dogwood
<div> <img src="/images/i038.png" alt="The Dogwood Bloom" title="The Dogwood Bloom" height="400" width="267" /> The Dogwood Bloom </div> <p>What a glorious thing is the Maytime Dogwood in our woods! How it does sing out its song! More loudly and clear... Diamond Cut Diamond
In a village in Hindustan there once lived a merchant who, although he rose early, worked hard, and rested late, remained very poor; and ill-luck so dogged him that he determined at last to go to some distant country and there to try his fortune. ... Dick O' The Cow
"Now Liddesdale has layen lang in, There is na ryding there at a'; The horses are a' grown sae lither fat, They downa stir out o' the sta'. Fair Johnie Armstrong to Willie did say-- 'Billy, a riding we will gae; ... Dick Swiveller And The Marchioness
RICHARD SWIVELLER, a good-hearted, though somewhat queer young man, the clerk of Sampson Brass, a scheming lawyer, often found time hanging heavily on his hands; and for the better preservation of his cheerfulness therefore, and to prevent his fac... Dick Whittington And His Cat
In the reign of King Edward the Third there was a poor orphan boy, named Dick Whittington, living in a country village a long way from London. He was a sharp little lad, and the stories that he heard of London being paved with gold made him lon... Dick Whittington And His Cat
More than five hundred years ago there was a little boy named Dick Whittington, and this is true. His father and mother died when he was too young to work, and so poor little Dick was very badly off. He was quite glad to get the parings of the pot... Ding-dong-bell
Ding-- Dong-- Bell! Pussy's in the well. Who put her in? Little Johnny Green. Who pulled her out? Big Johnny Stout. What a naughty boy was that, To drown poor pussy cat,... Diplomacy
BY LUCY FITCH PERKINS The Widow Hill has a fine plum-tree! The Widow Hill is fond o' me. I'll call on her to-day! The plum-tree grows by her front door. I've been meaning to call for a week or more To pass the ... Discontented Dewdrop
One morning a little Dewdrop was resting on the petal of a wild rose that grew beside a river. The sun shining on it made it glisten like a diamond and a lady who was passing stopped to admire its beauty. "It is the most beautiful thing in t... Disobedience
"Wait, Kitty; here's soap and water, And I must wash your face; For the way you do it with your paws Is simply a disgrace!" But Kitty didn't wait! ... Dock
Nettle in, dock out, Dock rub nettle out! If a person is stung with a nettle, a certain cure will be effected by rubbing dock leaves over the part, repeating the above charm very slowly. Mr. Akerman gives us another version of it as c... Doctor Knowall
There was once upon a time a poor peasant called Crabb, who drove with two oxen a load of wood to the town, and sold it to a doctor for two talers. When the money was being counted out to him, it so happened that the doctor was sitting at table, and... Doll-in-the-grass
Once upon a time there was a King who had twelve sons. These sons did not like to do useful things--they only liked to ride and to hunt in the woods, and to do what pleased them. One day the King said: "You shall each one go forth into the world... Dolly's Doctor
MARY Come and see my baby dear; Doctor, she is ill, I fear. Yesterday, do what I would, She would touch no kind of food; And she tosses, moans, and cries. Doctor, what do you advise? DOCTOR JOHN ... Domestic Poultry
The clucking conversation of poultry, the cackling of the hen, and the replying chuckle of the cock, is represented by the following dialogue: Hen. Cock, cock, I have la-a-a-yed! Cock. Hen, hen, that's well sa-a-a-yed! Hen. Alth... Dominion Of Canada And Newfoundland
The Dominion of Canada now consists of the Provinces of Alberta, British Columbia, Manitoba, New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, Ontario, Prince Edward Island, Quebec and Saskatchewan, together with certain territories not as yet included in any Province.... Dominion Of New Zealand
The Dominion of New Zealand is a colony of Great Britain consisting of North, South and Stewart Islands, or New Zealand proper, and certain outlying islands, including Cook Island, in the Pacific Ocean. Its present form of government was establi... Don Giovanni De La Fortuna
Sicilianische Mahrchen There was once a man whose name was Don Giovanni de la Fortuna, and he lived in a beautiful house that his father had built, and spent a great deal of money. Indeed, he spent so much that very soon there was none left, an... Donkey Skin
There was once upon a time a king who was so much beloved by his subjects that he thought himself the happiest monarch in the whole world, and he had everything his heart could desire. His palace was filled with the rarest of curiosities, and hi... Dorani
Once upon a time there lived in a city of Hindustan a seller of scents and essences, who had a very beautiful daughter named Dorani. This maiden had a friend who was a fairy, and the two were high in favour with Indra, the king of fairyland, becau... Dorothea's School Gifts
BY EUNICE WARD "It seems very queer," said Dorothea thoughtfully, "people who are going to do something nice always have presents given them, but people who are going to do something horrid never get a thing, and they need it twice as much." "... Dot's Birthday Cake
Once there was a little girl called Dot. And she was just five years old. And she had a fine birthday cake. It was big and round, and it had five beautiful little pink candles set in pink rosebuds on top. Dot sat at the big table at dinner that da... Dragon-flies
In some parts of the Isle of Wight, these insects are found of a peculiarly large size, and their colours are extremely beautiful. There is an old legend respecting them which is still current. It is supposed by the country people that their sting o... Drakestail
DRAKESTAIL was very little, that is why he was called Drakestail; but tiny as he was he had brains, and he knew what he was about, for having begun with nothing he ended by amassing a hundred crowns. Now the King of the country, who was very extrav... Drop-cap
In the game where the following lines are used, one person goes round inside a ring of children, clapping a cap between his hands. When he drops it at the foot of any one, that one leaves his position and gives chase, and is obliged to thread the ve... Drop-glove
Children stand round in a circle, leaving a space between each. One walks round the outside, and carries a glove in her hand, saying, I've a glove in my hand, Hittity Hot! Another in my other hand, ...