Charles Kingsley wrote "The Water-Babies, a Fairy Tale for a Land-Baby," under romantic circumstances. Reminded in 1862 of a promise he had made that "Rose, Maurice, and Mary have got their books, the baby must have his," Kingsley produced the story about little Tom, which forms the first chapter in "The Water-Babies," a fairy tale occupying a nook of its own in the literature of fantasy for children. After running serially through "Macmillan's Magazine," the "Water-Babies" was published in book form in 1863, dedicated "To my youngest son, and to all other good little boys." Mrs. Kingsley, in the life of her husband says "that it was perhaps the last book that he wrote with any real ease." The story, with its irresponsible and whimsical humour, throws an altogether delightful light upon the character of Charles Kingsley--clergyman, lecturer, historian, and social reformer.
I.--"I Must be Clean!"
Once upon a time there was a little chimney-sweep, and his name was Tom. He lived in a great town in the North Country where there were plenty of chimneys to sweep and plenty of money for Tom to earn, and his drunken master to spend. He could not read nor write, and did not care to do either; and he never washed himself, for there was no water up the court where he lived. Chimney-sweeping and hunger and beatings, he took all for the way of the world, and when his master let him have a pull at the leavings of his beer Tom was the jolliest boy in the whole town.
One day, Tom's master, Mr. Grimes, was sent for to sweep all the chimneys at Sir John Harthover's mansion, Harthover Place.
At four in the morning they passed through the silent town together and along the peaceful country roads to Sir John's, Mr. Grimes riding the donkey in front and Tom and the brushes walking behind. On the way they came up with an old Irishwoman, limping slowly along and carrying a heavy bundle. She walked along with Tom and asked him many questions about himself, and seemed very sad when he told her that he knew no prayers to say. She told him that she lived far away by the sea; and, how the sea rolled and roared on winter nights and lay still in the bright summer days, for the children to bathe and play in it; and many a story more till Tom longed to go and see the sea and bathe in it likewise.
When, at length, they came to a spring, Grimes got off his donkey, to refresh himself by dipping his head in the water. Because Tom followed his example, his master immediately thrashed him.
"Are you not ashamed of yourself, Thomas Grimes?" said the Irishwoman.
Grimes looked up, startled at her knowing his name; but he answered: "No, nor never was yet," and went on beating Tom.
"True for you. If you ever had been ashamed of yourself, you would have gone into Vendale long ago."
"What do you know about Vendale?" shouted Grimes; but he left off beating Tom.