The William Henry Letters

by Abby Morton Diaz

Now it may readily be supposed that the parents spared no pains to ward off from their child this unknown danger. The upper windows were immediately fastened down, fresh air being secured by means of hinges on each square of glass. As soon as he could walk sentinels were placed at every flight of stairs, and to keep him out of the cellar, a neighboring wine-merchant was invited to store his goods there, so that wine-butts took up every inch of room, from floor to ceiling. Ladders and movable steps he was not allowed the sight of, and as it seems as natural for boys to climb trees as to breathe the air around them, every tree in the grounds was protected by sharp iron teeth.

The longing which every boy has to climb is called the climbing instinct. In Hyladdu the climbing instinct was nipped in the bud,—smothered, crushed, kept under. He was forbidden to swing on gates, taught to avoid fence-posts, lamp-posts, and flag-staffs, and to look upon hills as summits of danger. Of shinning, he knew but the name. And that the very idea of climbing might be kept from his mind, all climbing plants were rooted out from the grounds; not even a morning-glory was allowed to run up a string! By these means the anxious parents hoped to prevent what the Thulsk had foretold, from coming to pass. “For,” said they, “if he never goes up, he can never fall down.” But mark now how all these precautions were the very means of making the prophecy prove true. For, had he only been taught to climb, and had been accustomed to high places, that sad accident might not have taken place and the blighted individual before you might now have been one of the flowers of his country! [Emotion.] Pardon me, friends. Tears come unbidden. [Showman holds handkerchief to his eyes. Dwarf ditto, with boots.]

Imagine now the dear child, grown a beautiful boy of five summers,—a boy of beaming blue eyes, and a rosy cheek! of flaxen curls and a graceful motion! The idol of his parents, the joy of his friends! Sweet in disposition, of tender feelings, quick to learn, truthful, affectionate, gentle in his manners, winning in his ways, no wonder that he was so well beloved!

It was only one short week before his sixth birthday, and his friends were trembling with joy, that the fatal time had so nearly passed, when the calamity which had so long hung over him like a cloud descended upon him like a thunderbolt! In other words, he lacked but a week of six, and all were rejoicing that the danger was nearly passed, when the event happened.

Hyladdu, being, like most boys, of a playful turn of mind, was sometimes permitted to join in the games of other children, in front of his father’s mansion, attended always by a faithful servant. On this particular day they were amusing themselves by playing with some silver-coated marbles, a box of which had been presented to Hyladdu by his grandmother, who was one of the court ladies.

A very pretty group they were. The children of that country, like their fathers, were dressed in long white robes, with bright sashes. On their heads they wore caps of blue or scarlet, which turned up with points before, behind, and at each side. On each point a little silver bell was hung, that the servants might have less difficulty in following them about. Their shoes were pointed at the toes.

Among those silver marbles was an “alley” of great beauty, glistening with rubies, and inlaid with pearl. This alley never was played for in earnest. [Here the dwarf beckons to the showman, and whispers in his ear.] He informs me that the laws forbade playing in earnest. I will now finish as rapidly as possible.

In the course of the game, this precious “alley” rolled a long distance, until it came to a brick in the pavement, which was set slanting, or had become so by a sinking of the ground underneath. This brick gave the “alley” a turn sideways to the left, and it rolled at last through a crack in the garden fence, and hid itself in the grass. The servant, in great haste, darted through the gate in search of it.

Meanwhile, slowly down the street, though at a distance, a Thulsk was approaching. It was the same who had nearly six years before sat by Hyladdu’s cradle. He walked silently on, his eyes cast down, his hands clasped, holding between them the five-petalled flower. One of the boys, perceiving him, made the sign of warning. Instantly they scattered, like a flock of pigeons, leaving their little silver-belled caps on the ground. Hyladdu, seeing the cellar open, would have hidden himself there, but no space was left between the wine-butts. A much larger boy seized his hand and pulled him into a strange house, and then, in his fright, dragged him through long passage-ways, and up seven flights of stairs; for the Empskutians build their houses to an immense height. Here they sat down to breathe awhile, and Hyladdu begged the boy to go for the faithful servant, that he might lead him home.

Now no sooner was the boy gone than Hyladdu began to look about him, and presently he discovered a slender staircase going still higher. Having climbed seven flights with help, he felt no fear in attempting the eighth alone. This slender staircase conducted him to the roof of the building. [Emotion and handkerchief.] Excuse my emotion. But when I think what might have happened, if something else had not happened to prevent, when I think that he might have fallen from that immense height, to be dashed in pieces beneath, I—I—But I will let my story take its course.