"Why! how did you get in, sir?" said she.
"The sun is most down, Effie," said he without answering her question, "what is your Last Wish?" As he said it his head shook harder than ever before, and he leaned on his cane so that he was almost bent double.
"Oh, sir! I wish," said Effie, "that I might do some great work that should make others happy, and that I might be able to sing the whole of the Song of the Mountain." As she said this the old man raised his head slowly from his staff, and when she finished, lo! he was changed into a great beam of light that cast its rays all about the cellar. Effie flew up stairs with her broom, and ran to the cottage door. The sea was sparkling with light, and the sun went down clear and beautiful.
"Aye! there's a sunset for you, chicky," said Father Gilder, coming up from the shore. "There'll be no storm after that! Do you remember your last birth day, little one, when there was such a sudden storm came up?" Yes, indeed, Effie remembered it and wondered whether the sky would always be clear now.
The next day Effie looked for somebody to come and give her some great thing to do, and teach her the Song of the Mountain, as she had wished for her last wish. But no one came—no, nor the next day, nor the day after; and then every thing went wrong. Her mother became sick and cross, and finally died; and Effie had to wear the wonderful apron with so many pockets, and work hard every day. How could she do any great work? All she could do was to take care of the house and do little things—ever so many of them there were, too, so that when the evening came she was quite tired out. But her father said she was a comfort to him, and he loved to have her sit by him and sing to him. She sang the two songs over and over, as she did every day at her work, and never tired of singing them, nor did he tire of hearing them.
So she lived on. She had a great many more birthdays, but no old man came to see her, and nobody came to give her a great work to do, or to teach her the rest of the song. By and by her father died too, but Effie lived still in the little red cottage by the sea-shore. And if any were sick or in trouble, they were sure to come to her. For every body loved her, and wherever she went she seemed to carry the sunlight with her, and to make everybody better and happier. Still no one came, though every birth-day she sat at the door, looking for the old man.
But he did come at last. It was her birth-day. She was an old woman, but she sat in the door-way as she used to, watching for somebody to come to her with a great work to do, and the rest of the song. She sat in her great arm-chair, and her eyes were very dim so that she could not see very well, and her ears were very dull, so that she could hardly hear at all. There was the sun that had so often gone down without any one's appearing. But before it touched the water she heard a voice—that old sweet voice that she had never forgotten, saying, "Effie!" She looked, and there she saw the same face that the old man used to have, but that was all she could see. Then it said again, "Effie!" and she said:
"Oh, sir! have you come at last to give me my wish? I have looked for you year after year, and now I am an old woman, and have not many more days to live."
"Your wish has been granted, Effie. You asked for some great work to do to make others happy. All your life since you have been doing the great work. There is nothing right or holy done for others that is not great. The little daily duties that you did so faithfully; the little kindnesses you showed to others; the little pleasant words you spoke—these are all great things."
"But the Song of the Mountain?" asked Effie.