NURSERY RHYME.
There was a monkey climbed up a tree;
When he fell down, then down fell he.
There was a crow sat on a stone;
When he was gone, then there was none.
There was an old wife did eat an apple;
When she ate two, she had ate a couple.
There was a horse going to the mill;
When he went on, he didn’t stand still.
There was a butcher cut his thumb;
When it did bleed, then blood it did run.
There was a jockey ran a race;
When he ran fast, he ran apace.
There was a cobbler clouting shoon;
When they were mended, then they were done.
There was a navy went into Spain;
When it returned it came back again.
OTTO IN THE WATER-BOTTLE.
A FAIRY STORY.
It had been such a day! The flakes of snow had been falling, falling like feathers on the pavement all day long. It was now dark, and little Otto stood at the dining-room window, watching them still falling in the light of the lamps outside. Otto is a handsome boy of about seven years old. It is New Year’s Eve; and he is going to a party this evening. Bertha, his sister, is being dressed for it at the present time, but he had been so noisy and troublesome, up in the nursery, while the ceremony of her dressing was going on, that he was sent downstairs to wait till his turn came.
Otto had been to a good many parties, and to two pantomimes this winter; still he was not at all tired of either parties or pantomimes; on the contrary, the more he went to the more he seemed to like them. But it was only at Christmas Otto was so gay; for did he not do lessons all the rest of the year with his sister’s governess? Miss Wigly was very strict, and thought children were much better without many holidays;—“particularly little boys,” she said. But perhaps that was because she was so anxious to get Otto well forward before he went to school.
For the last ten minutes he had been staring at the snow outside the dining-room windows, then he turned round and looked at the things in the room. A bright fire blazed on the hearth, the cloth was already laid for the dinner of the older members of the family, and by the side of the fire stood a comfortable easy chair, which papa generally sat in as soon as he had done his dinner.
Otto seated himself in this chair, and began to look at a bottle of water, which stood at the corner of the table nearest to him. His attention was attracted by the odd way in which things were reflected in the water. How minute the reflections were, and how they all curved, so as to make the room look round, as if seen in a mirror! He observed, too, his own little face, sometimes lengthened, sometimes widened, according to the part of the bottle he saw it in. These observations did not prevent him from thinking at the same time what a comfortable easy chair he was sitting in, and what a nice warm fire it was.
How long he had been reflecting upon all these things he never knew, when he observed, to his surprise, that the bottle was growing bigger; and, in another moment, instead of looking at it from the outside, he found himself inside it, looking at the objects beyond. And these were all changed. There was no water in the bottle now, but the water was outside, and the bottle itself was floating upon a river. The river seemed to wind along between mountains, and had beautiful buildings and trees upon its banks. A boat, rowed by two queer little men, was fastened by a chain to the bottle; and, as they rowed, the bottle was towed along. Gold and silver fish were playing about in the water; tiny children with wings were sporting in the air. The bottle inside was fitted up like an elegant drawing-room; and—most wonderful of all!—a beautiful fairy reclined on a sofa in the midst of it.
Otto knew she was a fairy, because she was just like those he had seen at the play, dressed all in gold and silver tissue, and sparkling with jewels. Besides, although she looked grown-up, she was not bigger than Otto himself. She spoke to him also in the beautiful language used in plays:—
“Mortal child,” she said, “thou lovest well to join in the festivities of other mortals,—what sayest thou now to making one in a fairy revel?”
“A fairy party, do you mean, ma’am?” asked Otto. “It would be awfully jolly, I should think.”
“Come, then, with me,” said the fairy, rising from her sofa.
As she did so, it occurred to Otto that they would wonder what had become of him at home. He hesitated, and said,—
“Could I go back home for a minute first, if you please, ma’am, to let them know where I am? And I think my sister, Bertha, would like very much to come too, if she might.”
“Mortal boy, dost fear to trust thyself with us?” exclaimed the fairy, indignantly.
Otto felt he had offended her, but before he could reply, she had disappeared. For a moment everything seemed confused: “Just like a change of scene in a pantomime,” thought Otto to himself. Afterwards, instead of floating along upon the river, he found himself sitting upon its bank, while a very large moon rose over the water. Bertha was sitting by his side, and two lovely fairies stood by them, but not the same fairy as before. In front of him, standing up in the water, was a very shabby, damp-looking, white-bearded old man. Otto was puzzled to account for him at first, then he recollected to have seen a picture somewhere of old Father Thames, and he assumed that this old man must be the river-god. There were also some little naked fairies hovering about him, “And those,” thought Otto, “must be little streams that run into the river.” Besides all these, there was a large tortoise or turtle close to Otto, which crept up, and stared him in the face.
The old man, addressing Bertha and Otto, said,—“Tell me, children, what is your wish?”
Before Otto could put in a word, Bertha exclaimed,—“I want to go to the fairy revel.”
“Why, she seems to know all about it!” thought Otto, very much surprised. The words—fairy revel—uttered by Bertha, were repeated by voices in the air, on the earth, among the reeds, in the water, everywhere. Gradually the sounds died away in the distance, and as they did so, Otto discovered that he was alone.
“Why, they have all gone off to the fairy ball, and left me behind,” said Otto, aloud to himself. “How shall I ever get there now?”
“Jump on my back,” cried a voice from the grass. It was the tortoise: and Otto observed that it had a kind of side-saddle on its back, and a bridle in its mouth.
“Can you go fast?” said Otto, doubtingly.
“Try me!” briefly replied Mr. Tortoise.
Otto did so, seating himself as he thought a lady-fairy might do. Rather to his own surprise, he felt no alarm when the creature rose up from the earth, and bore him rushing through the air. He seemed to be rapidly approaching the moon, when suddenly a harsh voice sounded in his ears:—“Why, you’re not dressed.” He looked at himself, and perceived, to his dismay, that he had on his nightgown. “How stupid of me,” thought he; “why, I must have jumped out of bed, and come off, without dressing. What shall I do at the fairy ball?”
Again the same great voice cried,—“You’re not dressed,” and the words were followed by a merry peal of laughter. Otto looked at himself again, and now all was changed: he had on his usual little jacket, his nickerbockers, warm stockings, and shoes. He was in his father’s easy chair, and the water-bottle was on the table before him. Bertha stood there, dressed for her party, laughing with all her might; while Mrs. Crump the nurse looked very cross.
“Oh, nurse, why did you wake me? I was on my way to the fairies’ ball.”
“Fairies’ fiddlestick!” rejoined Mrs. Crump. “Come and get dressed directly.”
“Oh, Bertha, Bertha, I have had such a wonderful dream; just like being at the play. I’ll tell you all about it.”
“Well, never mind now,” replied Bertha, snubbing him with all the importance of a sister three or four years his senior. “Make haste and dress, or we shan’t go to Aunt Julia’s ball, which I care more about.”