ANGELINA W. GRIMKE
Once upon a time there were two dear little boys, and they were all alone in the world. They lived with a cruel old man and old woman, who made them work hard, very hard—all day, and beat them when they did not move fast enough, and always, every night, before they went to bed. They slept in an attic on a rickety, narrow bed, that went screech! screech! whenever they moved. And, in the summer, they nearly died with the heat up there; and in the winter with the cold.
One wintry night, when they were both weeping very bitterly after a particularly hard beating, they suddenly heard a pleasant voice saying:
"Why are you crying, little boys?"
They looked up, and there in the moonlight, by their bed, was the dearest little old lady. She was dressed all in grey, from the peak of her little pointed hat to her little, buckled shoes. She held a black cane much taller than her little self. Her hair fell about her ears in tiny, grey corkscrew curls; and they bobbed about as she moved. Her eyes were black and bright—as bright as—well, as that lovely, white light in the fire. And her cheeks were as red as an apple.
"Why are you crying, little boys?" she asked again, in a lovely, low, little voice.
"Because we are tired and sore and hungry and cold; and we are all alone in the world; and we don't know how to laugh any more. We should so like to laugh again."
"Why, that's easy," she said, "it's just like this," and she laughed a little, joyous, musical laugh. "Try!" she commanded.
They tried, but their laughing boxes were very rusty and they made horrid sounds.
"Well," she said, "I advise you to pack up, and go away, as soon as you can, to the Land of Laughter. You'll soon learn there, I can tell you."
"Is there such a land?" they asked doubtfully.
"To be sure there is," she answered, the least bit sharply.
"We never heard of it," they said.
"Well, I'm sure there must be plenty of things you never heard about," she said just the "leastest" bit more sharply. "In a moment you'll be telling me the flowers don't talk together, and the birds."
"We never heard of such a thing," they said in surprise, their eyes like saucers.
"There!" she said, bobbing her little curls. "What did I tell you. You have much to learn."
"How do you get to the Land of Laughter?" they asked.
"You go out of the eastern gate of the town, just as the sun is rising; and you take the highway there, and follow it; and if you go with it long enough, it will bring you to the gate of the Land of Laughter. It is a long, long way from here; and it will take you many days."
The words had scarcely left her mouth when, lo! the little lady disappeared, and where she had stood was the white square of moonlight—nothing else.
And without more ado these two little boys put their arms round each other, and fell fast asleep. And in the grey, just before daybreak, they awoke and dressed; and putting on their little ragged caps and mittens, for it was a wintry day, they stole out of the house, and made for the eastern gate. And just as they reached it and passed through, the whole east leapt into fire.
All day they walked, and many days thereafter; and kindly people, by the way, took them in and gave them food and drink and sometimes a bed at night. Often they slept by the roadside; but they didn't mind that for the climate was delightful—not too hot, and not too cold. They soon threw away their ragged little mittens.
They walked for many days; and there was no Land of Laughter. Once they met an old man, richly dressed, with shining jewels on his fingers, and he stopped them and asked:
"Where are you going so fast, little boys?"
"We are going to the Land of Laughter," they said very gravely.
"That," said the old man, "is a very foolish thing to do. Come with me and I will take you to the Land of Riches. I will cover you with beautiful garments, and give you jewels and a castle to live in with servants and horses and many things besides."
And they said to him, "No, we wish to learn how to laugh again; we have forgotten how, and we are going to the Land of Laughter."
"You will regret not going with me. See if you don't," he said, and he left them in quite a huff.
And they walked again, many days, and again they met an old man. He was tall and imposing-looking and very dignified. And he said:
"Where are you going so fast, little boys?"
"We are going to the Land of Laughter," they said together very seriously.
"What!" he said, "that is an extremely foolish thing to do. Come with me, and I will give you power. I will make you great men; generals, kings, emperors. Whatever you desire to accomplish will be permitted you."
And they said politely:
"Thank you, very much, but we have forgotten how to laugh; and we are going there to learn how."
He looked upon them haughtily, without speaking, and disappeared.
And they walked and walked more days; and they met another old man. And he was clad in rags; and his face was thin; and his eyes were unhappy. And he whispered to them:
"Where are you going so fast, little boys?"
"We are going to the Land of Laughter," they answered, without a smile.
"Laughter! laughter! that is useless. Come with me and I will show you the beauty of life through sacrifice, suffering for others. That is the only life. I come from the Land of Sacrifice."
And they thanked him kindly, but said:
"We have suffered enough. We have forgotten how to laugh. We would learn again." And they went on; and he looked after them wistfully.
They walked more days; and at last they came to the Land of Laughter. And how do you suppose they knew this? Because they could hear, over the wall, the sound of joyous laughter—the laughter of men, women and little children.
And one sat guarding the gate, and they went to her.
"We have come a long, long distance; and we would enter the Land of Laughter."
"Let me see you smile, first," she said gently. "I sit at the gate and no one who does not know how to smile may enter into the Land of Laughter."
And they tried to smile, but could not.
"Go away and practise," she said kindly, "and come back tomorrow."
And they went away, and practised all night how to smile; and, in the morning, they returned. And the gentle lady at the gate said:
"Dear little boys, have you learned how to smile?"
And they said: "We have tried. How is this?"
"Better," she said, "much better. Practise some more, and come back tomorrow."
And they went away obediently and practised.
And they came the third day. And she said:
"Now, try again."
And tears of delight came into her lovely eyes.
"Those were very beautiful smiles," she said. "Now you may enter."
And she unlocked the gate and kissed them both, and they entered the beautiful Land of Laughter.
Never had they seen such blue skies, such green trees and grass; never had they heard such bird song.
And people, men, women and children, laughing softly, came to meet them, and took them in, and made them at home; and soon, very soon, they learned to laugh. All day they laughed, and even in their sleep. And they grew up here, and married, and had laughing, happy children. And sometimes they thought of the Land of Riches, and said, "Ah! well"; and sometimes of the Land of Power, and sighed a little; and sometimes of the Land of Sacrifice—and their eyes were wistful. But they soon forgot, and laughed again. And they grew old, laughing. And when they died—a laugh was on their lips. Thus are things in the beautiful Land of Laughter.