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FRIENDLY FAIRIES
Written & Illustrated by
JOHNNY GRUELLE
1919
To MY MOTHER
Here are the Titles of the Stories in this Book:
THE THREE LITTLE GNOMES
A silvery thread of smoke curled up over the trunk of the old tree and floated away through the forest, and tiny voices came from beneath the trunk of the old tree.
Long, long ago, the tree had stood strong and upright and its top branches reached far above any of the other trees in the forest, but the tree had grown so old it began to shiver when the storms howled through the branches. And as each storm came the old tree shook more and more, until finally in one of the fiercest storms it tumbled to the earth with a great crash.
There it lay for centuries, and vines and bushes grew about in a tangled mass until it was almost hidden from view.
Now down beneath the trunk of the fallen tree lived three little gnomes, and it was the smoke from their fire which curled up over the trunk of the old tree and floated away through the forest.
They were preparing dinner and laughing and talking together when they heard the sound of a horn.
"What can it be?" one asked.
"It sounds like the horn of a huntsman!" another cried.
As the sound came nearer, the three little gnomes stamped upon their fire and put it out so that no one would discover their home. Then they climbed upon the trunk of the tree and ran along it to where they could see across an open space in the forest without being seen themselves. And when the sound of the horn drew very close, they saw a little boy climb through the thick bushes.
As the little boy came out into the open space the three little gnomes saw that he was crying.
"He must be lost!" said the first little gnome.
"He looks very tired and hungry!" said the second little gnome.
"Let us go and ask him!" said the third little gnome.
So the three little gnomes scrambled down from the trunk of the fallen tree and went up to where the little boy had thrown himself upon the ground. They stood about him and watched him, for he had put his face in the crook of his arm and was crying.
Finally one of the little gnomes sat down in front of the little boy and spoke to him.
"I am lost!" the little boy said. "My father went hunting yesterday with all his men and when they were out of sight I took my little horn and followed them, but I soon lost their track, and I have wandered about with nothing to eat. Last night I climbed into a tree and slept!"
The three little gnomes wiped the little boy's eyes and led him to their home under the fallen tree. There they finished preparing the dinner and sat about until the little boy had eaten and had fallen asleep.
Then the three little gnomes carried him into their house, away back in the trunk of the tree, and placed him upon one of their little beds.
When the three little gnomes had finished their dinner they lit their pipes and wondered how they might help the little boy find his way home.
"Let us go to old Wizzy Owl and see if he can suggest anything!" said one.
"Yes, brothers," cried another, "Let us go to old Wizzy Owl."
So the three little gnomes went to the home of Wizzy Owl and Wizzy Owl said he would fly high above the forest and try and see the little boy's home.
"I can not see his home!" cried Wizzy Owl. "Maybe Fuzzy Fox can tell you!"
So the three little gnomes went to the home of Fuzzy Fox and Fuzzy Fox said he would run through the forest and see if he could find the little boy's home. So Fuzzy Fox ran through the forest, but could not find the little boy's home. "But," said Fuzzy Fox, "I came upon a wounded deer who told me that a party of huntsmen had passed through the forest yesterday and had shot her with an arrow." So the three little gnomes went to see the wounded deer and they washed the wound the arrow had made and bound it up for her.
Then the three little gnomes sat upon Fuzzy Fox's back and he ran on through the forest with them until they came to a wild boar.
The wild boar had been crippled by the huntsmen, he told the three little gnomes, but had managed to hide himself in the thick bushes and escape. "It must have been the little boy's father and his men," said the wild boar. "I am sorry that I am wounded for I would like to help him!"
Then Fuzzy Fox ran with the three little gnomes through the forest and they met a wounded bear, and a wounded squirrel, and five or six wounded bunny rabbits, and they all told the three little gnomes that the huntsmen had shot them with arrows and that they just managed to escape.
The three little gnomes felt very sorry for their wounded friends and helped them all they could by washing their wounds and tying them up. "We are sorry that we can not go with you and help find the little boy's home," they all said, "For his mother will miss him and cry for him. And we know how much a Mamma or a Daddy can miss a little boy or girl, for we have all grieved for our own little ones that the huntsmen who roam this forest have killed. That is why we feel sorry that we can not help you bring him back to his mother."
So Fuzzy Fox ran until he came to the edge of the forest and then the three little gnomes saw a large castle away in the distance with bright red roofs on the tall towers.
"That must be the little boy's home!" said one little gnome.
"Let us return at once to our home under the fallen tree and ask the little boy!" said another. So Fuzzy Fox ran with them back to their home and the little boy told them it was his home.
Then the kind Fuzzy Fox took the three little gnomes and the little boy upon his back and ran to the edge of the forest and on the way they stopped to see the wounded animals, and they were all glad that the little boy's Mamma and Daddy would soon see him. "Oh, if we could only see the children who have been taken away from us by the huntsmen!" they said as they bade the little boy goodbye.
So Fuzzy Fox carried the three little gnomes and the little boy almost to the castle gate and shook hands with him.
"I will remember the way to your home," the boy told the three little gnomes, "and I will be back to see you soon!"
The next day when the three little gnomes were preparing dinner they again heard the little boy's horn, and ran along the trunk of the tree until they came to where they could see across the open space.
Soon there came a great many people, and riding upon a fine horse in front of his Daddy was the little boy, but this day he wore fine silk and satin clothes and they were not torn by the brambles and bushes. Near him rode a beautiful lady. She was the little boy's Mamma.
So the three little gnomes went out to meet them, and the little boy slid from the horse and ran to them and threw his arms around them. "This is my Daddy, and this is my Mamma!" he told them.
The little boy's Mamma and the little boy's Daddy dismounted and came to the three little gnomes and thanked them for returning the little boy to them. "We will give you anything you wish for!" said the little boy's Mamma and Daddy.
"We wish for nothing!" said the three little gnomes, "We live happily here in the forest and our wants are simple, but if you could send us some clean white cloths to bind up the wounds you give our forest friends we would be very grateful!"
"I told Daddy of the wounded creatures!" said the little boy. "Yes," his Daddy said, "and I have given orders that no one in my country shall hunt through this forest, and from now on your forest friends will be unmolested and can always live here in peace and happiness." For the great king was sorry that he or his men had ever caused any of the forest creatures any sorrow. And after that the creatures of the forest were never harmed and they grew up so tame they would wander right up to the castle, where the king's men would feed them.
The tiny thread of smoke still curls up over the trunk of the fallen tree, and the voices of the little boy and his Daddy mingle with the tiny voices of the three little gnomes as they prepare their dinner; for the great King and the little Prince come often to visit their friends, the three little gnomes.
THE HAPPY RATTLE
Willie Woodchuck sat at the entrance of his burrow home whittling upon a tiny dried gourd.
"What are you making?" asked Timothy Toad, as he hopped through the grass and sat in front of Willie.
"Oh, I am just whittling because I have nothing else to do!" replied Willie Woodchuck.
So Timothy Toad hopped on down the path until he met Eddie Elf.
"Willie Woodchuck is whittling because he has nothing else to do!" said Timothy Toad.
"I will stop by and see him!" said Eddie Elf. So Timothy Toad hopped along the path until he met Gerty Gartersnake.
"Willie Woodchuck is whittling because he has nothing better to do!" said Timothy Toad.
"I will go down that way and see him!" said Gerty Gartersnake, and she started down the path.
So Timothy Toad hopped down the path until he met Wallie Woodpecker. "Willie Woodchuck is whittling because he has nothing better to do!" said Timothy Toad.
"I will fly down and see him!" said Wallie Woodpecker, and away he flew. Timothy Toad hopped on down the road until he met Billie Bumblebee.
"Willie Woodchuck is whittling because he has nothing else to do!" said Timothy Toad.
"I will buzz down that way and see him!" said Billie Bumblebee, as he buzzed away.
When Timothy Toad arrived at his home his wife, Tilly Toad, was sweeping off the front steps. "What do you think, Tilly?" Timothy Toad cried, "Willie Woodchuck is, whittling because he has nothing else to do!"
"Dear me! You don't say so!" cried Tilly Toad, as she stood her broom in the corner and started down the path. "I will hop down and see him!" she said.
"I will hop back with you, Tilly!" said Timothy Toad.
They had not hopped far before they met Eddie Elf, who was singing happily to himself as he walked along. "Willie Woodchuck is whittling on a rattle!" he said, when the two Toads stopped him.
"We are hopping back to see him," said Tilly and Timothy Toad. "I will go back with you!" said Eddie Elf.
They had not gone far until they met Gerty Gartersnake, singing away very happily. "Willie Woodchuck is whittling on a beautiful red and black rattle!" said Gerty Gartersnake.
"We are going back to see him!" said Tilly and Timothy Toad and Eddie Elf.
"Then I will go back with you!" said Gerty Gartersnake.
They had not gone far until they met Wallie Woodpecker, who also was singing happily. "Willie Woodchuck is whittling on a rattle and it is blue, red and black and rattles beautifully."
"We are going back to see him!" said Tilly and Timothy Toad and Eddie Elf and Gerty Gartersnake.
"Then I will go back with you!" said Wallie Woodpecker.
They had not gone far before they met Billie Bumblebee. "Willie Woodchuck is whittling on a beautiful yellow and blue and red and black rattle and it rattles beautifully."
"We are going back to see him!" said Tilly and Timothy Toad and Eddie Elf and Gerty Gartersnake and Wallie Woodpecker.
"Then I will go back with you!" said Billie Bumblebee, so away they all went until they came to Willie Woodchuck's home.
"Where is Willie Woodchuck?" they asked of Winnie Woodchuck, his wife.
"He has taken his beautiful new yellow and red and blue and black and white rattle, which rattles so beautifully, over to show to Grumpy Grundy, the Owl!" said Winnie Woodchuck.
"Then we will go there!" said the others.
"Then I will go with you!" said Winnie Woodchuck.
Grumpy Grundy, the Owl, was a very cross old creature, and if everything did not go to suit her all the time, she hooted and howled; in fact she had cried so much she had made large red rings around her eyes.
When Tilly and Timothy Toad and Eddie Elf and Gerty Gartersnake and Wallie Woodpecker and Billie Bumblebee and Winnie Woodchuck arrived at Grumpy Grundy's place they heard merry laughter and whenever the laughter ceased, they heard the buzz and rattle and hum of Willie Woodchuck's rattle.
So they went inside.
And there was Willie Woodchuck with the beautiful yellow and red and blue and black and white rattle, and when he rattled it Grumpy Grundy rolled on the floor and laughed until the tears ran from her eyes.
So they all lifted Grumpy Grundy on a chair and wiped her eyes and what do you think! the red rings around them were wiped away and she looked young and pretty again.
"Oh dear!" said Grumpy Grundy, the Owl. "I have never enjoyed myself so much before, and I will never be grumpy and be called a Grundy again! No sir! never!" and her eyes twinkled with merriment.
And all were greatly pleased at the great change in Grumpy Grundy.
Eddie Elf laughed, Tilly and Timothy Toad chuckled, Gerty Gartersnake giggled, Wallie Woodpecker beat a tattoo on wood, Billie Bumblebee buzzed and Winnie Woodchuck sang a woodchuck song.
And after that no one could say that Willie Woodchuck had nothing else to do, for he spent his time making beautiful "happy rattles" which he gave away to all the creatures, and everyone laughed and made merry whenever they heard the beautiful yellow and red and blue and black and white rattles which rattled so beautifully and drove away the grumpies.
RECIPE FOR A HAPPY DAY
One morning Marjorie's Mamma called to her several times before Marjorie answered, for her pretty brown eyes were very sleepy and would hardly stay open.
"Come, dear! Please hurry, for I want you to run to the grocery before breakfast!" Mamma called from the foot of the stairs.
"Oh dear!" exclaimed Marjorie, "I don't want to get up!" and keeping her head on the pillow just as long as she could Marjorie crawled out of bed backwards.
Her clothes were scattered about the room and her stockings were turned inside out. Her dress would not fasten and she cried, so that Mamma had to come upstairs and dress her.
So you see Marjorie's day began all wrong, for everything started topsy-turvy.
"Now hurry, dear!" Mamma said as she handed Marjorie the basket.
Marjorie slammed the door as she went out and she was so cross she did not notice the beautiful sunshine nor hear the pretty songs which greeted her from the tree tops.
"It's so far to the old store!" Marjorie grumbled to herself, as she pouted her pretty lips and shuffled her feet along the path.
"Hello, Marjorie!" laughed a merry voice.
Marjorie saw a queer little elf sitting upon a stone at the side of the road. His little green suit was so near the color of the leaves Marjorie could scarcely distinguish him from the foliage. He wore a funny little pointed cap of a brilliant red, and sticking in it was a long yellow feather.
Two long hairs grew from his eyebrows and curled over his cap. He was hardly as large as Marjorie's doll, Jane.
"Who are you, and where did you come from?" Marjorie cried, for she thought him the most comical little creature she had ever seen.
"Why, I'm Merry Chuckle from Make-Believe Land!" replied the elf. "And aren't you very cross this lovely day?"
"I did not want to get up!" cried Marjorie, "and I just hate to go to the store! It's too far!" She dropped her basket on the ground and sat down beside the elf on the large stone.
"Isn't it funny?" laughed Merry Chuckle. "There are hundreds of children just like you who make hard work of getting up when they are called in the morning and who remain cross and ugly all day long!"
"I really do not mean to be cross, but I just can't help it sometimes!" Marjorie said.
"Oh, but indeed you can help it, Marjorie!" the elf solemnly said as he shook his tiny finger at her nose. "And I am going to tell you how. First of all, when you awaken in the morning you must say to yourself, 'Oh what a lovely, happy day this is going to be!' then raise your arms above your head and take three long, deep breaths. Jump out of bed quickly, always remembering to put your toes on the floor first.
"For," continued Merry Chuckle, "Old Witchy Crosspatch is always waiting for children to get out of bed backwards. And when they do, she catches them by the heels and turns everything topsy-turvy all day long; but when you get out of bed toes first, I'll be there to start you on a pleasant day and Witchy Crosspatch will have to return to Make-Believe Land and hide her head!" "Sure enough, I did crawl out of bed backwards this morning!" Marjorie said.
"I know you did, my dear!" Merry Chuckle giggled. "And every time you do old Witchy Crosspatch makes everything seem disagreeable!"
"But I hate to run errands, Mister Chuckle!" cried Marjorie. "The old road is so dreadfully long and tiresome!"
"But the longer the road the more happiness you can find along the way, my dear!" Merry Chuckle replied, quick as a wink, his little eyes twinkling brightly. "If you look up at the blue sky and the beautiful sunshine and sing with the birds as you run along you'll find the road seems too short and you'll be back before you notice it. Just try it and see."
So Marjorie looked up the road with a smile and, sure enough, it did not seem so far to the store, and when she turned around, she was sitting upon the stone alone. The little elf had suddenly disappeared. Marjorie picked up her basket and skipped down the road singing at the top of her voice and before she had time to think about how far it was she was back home telling Mamma all about the queer little elf from Make-Believe Land.
"You haven't been away long enough to stop and talk with anyone on the road!" laughed Mamma. "Are you sure you have not been dreaming?" Marjorie wondered if it really had only been a dream, but the next morning when the golden sunshine peeped through her bedroom curtains, Marjorie did as Merry Chuckle had told her the day before. First of all she woke up and cried, "Oh what a lovely day this is going to be!" Then she took three long, deep breaths and then she jumped out of bed quickly, right on her toes. And, sure enough, old Witchy Crosspatch had to go back to Make-Believe Land and hide her head, so Marjorie spent a lovely, happy day with Merry Chuckle.
"I hope all children will hear of my recipe for a joyous day," said Merry Chuckle, "so that each day for them can be filled with sunshine and happiness!"
GRANDFATHER SKEETER-HAWK'S STORY
It was a beautiful day in the late summer. Tommy Grasshopper, Johnny Cricket and Willy Ladybug were playing on a high bank of the river, and watching the little fish jumping after tiny flies and bugs that fell upon the surface of the stream.
"Let's go up higher so that we can see them better," Willy Ladybug said.
"Yes, let's climb up on the tall reeds so that we can look right down in the water," Johnny Cricket said. "But we must be very careful and not fall, for the fish would soon swallow us, and that would not be very much fun!" he laughed.
So Tommy Grasshopper and Johnny Cricket caught hold of Willy Ladybug's four little hands and helped him to climb up the tall reeds, for Willy was not as old as the other Bug Boys, and might fall in the water if they did not help him.
From the tall reeds the three Bug Boys could look down in the water and see the pretty little sun fish and the long slim pickerel darting around and turning their shiny sides so that the sun would reflect its rays on them, just as if they were looking glasses.
The Bug Boys watched the fish until they grew tired, and they were just starting down the tall reed when a great big dragon fly flew upon the top of the reed and called to them.
Of course all the Bug Boys knew old Gran'pa Skeeterhawk—for it was he—so the three returned to the reed and sat down again to pass the time of day with Gran'pa.
Presently Willy Ladybug saw a strange fish in the water.
"What kind of a fish is that, Gran'pa Skeeterhawk?" he asked.
"That's a catfish!" Gran'pa replied. "Queer looking fish, the catfish are; they do most of their feeding at night since Omasko, the elk, flattened their heads."
"Dear me! Are their heads flat?" Johnny Cricket asked.
"Flat as a pancake!" Gran'pa Skeeterhawk replied, and then told them this story:
"I've heard my Gran'pa tell that once the catfish had heads that were shaped like sunfish," Gran'pa Skeeterhawk said, "and they thought that they were not only the most beautiful fish but the fiercest fighters in the world, although they would always swim away as fast as they could whenever anything came near them. You see, they really were not even a teeney, weeney bit brave.
"But when the catfish got by themselves and they thought there was no one else to overhear them, they would make up fairy tales of wonderful adventures they had gone through, and fierce monsters they had destroyed. One would say 'I wish I were large enough to drag home the enormous giant eel I killed today. He was sixteen feet long, and weighed five hundred pounds.' Another would say, 'Pooh, that is nothing! Why, you ought to see an Indian who tried to catch me in a net! Why, I not only pulled him in the water and dragged him all over the bottom, but I made him promise he would never disturb any of the catfish tribe after this!'
"Just then a little bird flew over the water and his shadow so startled the boastful catfish, they buried themselves in the mud at the bottom of the stream.
"After a while," Grand'pa Skeeterhawk continued, "They got up courage to peek out of the mud, and as they saw nothing to frighten them, they formed in a circle and told more tales of their fighting qualities.
"One old catfish who had been the leader because he could tell the biggest tales and hide under the mud quicker than any of the others finally said: 'We are the best fish in the water, as you all know, so I think it will be a good plan to fight everything that comes near the water from the land!'
"'Shall we fight the big hawk who wades in the water and catches some of us?' asked a little kitten fish.
"'Kitten fish should be seen and not heard!' the old chief catfish answered quickly. I do not believe we should harm the hawk. He is not large enough. I was thinking of the large beast who comes wading along the shores and eats the grasses that grow beneath the surface. You know he has to raise his head every once-in-a-while in order to breathe, so if we should all hang on to him we could pull him under the water.'
"So the catfish, although they were so frightened that their fins grew stiff, decided that they would follow their chief, for they expected he would be the first to hide under the mud when the big beast came.
"Finally old Omasko, the elk, came down to the river to feed, and the old chief catfish swam out and pulled on Omasko's whiskers, and all the other catfish cried: 'See how brave and fearless the mighty catfish are!' and they all swam out and pulled Omasko's whiskers, too. This made Omasko very angry, for he never harmed any fish in his life.
"He began jumping and pawing with his heavy hoofs, and smashed all the catfish down in the mud and when they finally came out again, which was not until two or three days later, their heads were as flat as they are now!
"That is why all catfish have flat heads," Grandfather Skeeterhawk finished.
"It served them right for being so boastful!" Johnny Cricket said.
"It served them right for trying to harm someone who never harmed them!" Gran'pa Skeeterhawk replied, as he darted up in the air and flew over the tall cat-tails.
CROW TALK
"Caw, Caw, Caw," one old crow cried as he faced the other two crows. "Caw?" asked the second old crow as he plumed his feathers and screwed his head around to get a better view of the little boy lying under the tree.
"Caw-AAAAH! Ca—aaaaw!" replied the first crow.
"Those crows must be talking to each other!" Dickie Dorn thought to himself, as he lay upon his back under the big oak tree and watched the three crows.
The third crow now cried, "Awww! Ca-ca-caw!"
Dickie jumped up and ran down the hill to where Granny lived. It was a tiny little house, not much larger than a piano box, but it was plenty large enough for Granny, for Granny was only two feet high. Some people even thought Granny was a witch.
Of course Dickie knew that Granny was not a witch, for Granny was very good and kind. So Dickie knocked at Granny's tiny front door.
"Come in!" Granny cried. "Good morning, Dickie!" she said, as Dickie crawled into the tiny living room.
When Dickie took a seat upon a tiny sofa he did not know just how to ask Granny for what he wanted, so he twiddled his thumbs.
"Why do you twiddle your thumbs, Dickie?" Granny asked, as she smiled through her glasses at him.
"I was wondering what the three crows were talking of!" Dickie replied. Granny went to her tiny cupboard and brought out a little bottle of purple fluid. She dropped three drops of this into a tiny spoon and held it to Dickie.
"Am I to take it, Granny?"
"Yes, my dear, and you will be able to understand what the three crows are talking about."
Dickie swallowed the purple fluid, for he was very anxious to return to the big oak tree and listen to the crows. Granny watched him for a few moments with her eyes full of twinkles, then she told him to run along to the tree.
And Dickie thanked Granny and ran as fast as he could to the tree where the three crows were still talking.
The first crow cried, "I know where there is a box filled with golden pennies!"
"Ah, my brother, where?" asked the second crow.
"In the middle of the great meadow, and it will belong to the one who finds it first!"
"I know where there is a box full of candy!" the third crow cried.
"Ahhhh! Where is it, my brother?" asked the first crow.
"In the middle of the great meadow, and it will belong to the one who finds it first."
"I know where there is a box full of ice cream!" cried the second crow. "Aha! My brother, where?" asked the third crow.
"In the middle of the great meadow, and it will belong to the one who finds it first!"
Then the crows went on talking about other things, but Dickie did not hear them, for he was running in the direction of the great meadow as fast as he could.
And when he came to the middle of the great meadow there was a large box, and in the large box were three other boxes. One contained the golden pennies, another the candy and the third was full of ice cream.
"I found it first!" Dickie cried and he took a pencil stub from his pocket and, with much twisting of mouth and thinking, he printed his name upon the box.
Then Dickie ran home as fast as he could and told Daddy Dorn. Daddy Dorn hitched up Dobbin Dorn and Dickie and Daddy went to the middle of the great meadow and put the big box in the wagon and took it home.
Then they called Mamma Dorn and they all ate some of the ice cream and candy. Then Dickie took some of the ice cream and candy and some of the golden pennies to Granny.
Then Dickie ran back home and had some more ice cream and candy, and asked Daddy if he might take some of the golden pennies downtown and buy something, and Daddy Dorn said: "Of course, Dickie Dorn, for they are your golden pennies." So Dickie took two handfuls of the golden pennies downtown and bought a fine little pony with a little round stomach, and he bought a pretty pony cart and harness. Then Dicky drove the pony back home.
By the time Dickie reached home he was hungry for more ice cream and candy, so he went to the box to get some. "Oh Mamma and Daddy!" he cried, "Come see! The box is full of candy and ice cream!" And sure enough that was the case, for although they had eaten almost all of the ice cream and candy before now the two boxes were filled again. Then Daddy Dorn took two large handfuls of golden pennies from the golden penny box and they watched the box fill up with pennies again.
"Whee!" cried Dickie Dorn. "Whee!" cried Mamma Dorn, and "Whee!" cried Daddy Dorn. "We will give a party!" So Dickie drove around to everybody's house in his pony cart and invited everybody to come to the party.
And they all had such a nice time they ate the ice cream box empty sixteen times and it filled right up again, and they ate the candy box empty seventeen times and it filled right up again, and Dickie and Mamma and Daddy Dorn gave everybody all the golden pennies they could carry home and emptied the penny box eighteen times, and whenever they emptied the golden penny box it filled right up again.
And every one felt very grateful to Dickie Dorn and thanked him for such a nice time, and Dickie brought Granny out of a corner where she was eating her eighth dish of ice cream and told everybody that it was Granny who had really given the party, and he told them how Granny had helped him to learn crow talk.
So the people never called Granny a witch after that, for they knew she was very good and kindly.
And Dickie put the three boxes—the candy box, the ice cream box and the box with the golden pennies—out in front of his house so that whenever anyone wished candy or ice cream or golden pennies they might walk up and help themselves.
Dickie Dorn calls it an "All-The-Time Party," for there is always someone out in front of Dickie Dorn's house eating from the candy and the ice cream box and filling their pockets with golden pennies.
Some day I hope to see you there.
THE FAIRY RING
A little old man with a violin tucked under his arm shuffled down the attic steps and the many flights of stairs until finally he reached the streets.
As he shuffled down the street, he clutched his coat tightly about his throat, for the air was chill and he felt the cold.
At the first street corner he stopped and placed his violin to his shoulder to play, but catching a glance from the policeman across the street he hastily tucked his violin under his arm and shuffled on.
He walked a great distance before he again stopped.
It was a busy corner where hundreds of people passed every few minutes, but when he played no one stopped to listen to his music, much less to drop anything in the tiny tin cup he had placed on the sidewalk before him.
Tears came to the poor little old man's eyes; everyone was too busy to stop to hear his music.
So in the evening when he slowly retraced his steps towards his attic home, his feet were very tired and he shuffled more than he had in the morning. His back humped and his head drooped more, and the tears nearly blinded him. He had to stop and rest at each flight of stairs and he fell to his knees just as he reached the attic door.
He sat there and rested awhile, then caught hold of the doorknob and raised himself to his feet.
A quaint little white-haired woman greeted him with a cheery smile as he entered, then, seeing his sad face, she turned her head and tears came to her eyes.
"Honey!" the little old man sobbed, as he stumbled towards her chair and fell to his knees before her, burying his face in her lap.
Neither could say a word for a long time, then the little old man told her he had been unable to make a single penny by playing.
"No one cares to hear an old man play the violin!" he said. "No one cares that we go hungry and cold! And I can still play," he added fiercely, "just as well as ever I could! Listen to this!" and the little old man stood up and drew his bow across the violin strings in a sure, fiery manner, so that the lamp chimney rattled and sang with the vibrations of the strings.
And in his fierceness he improvised a melody so wild and beautiful his sister sat entranced.
As the little old man finished the melody he stood still more upright. Then straightening his old shoulders and pulling his hat firmly on his head, he stooped and kissed the old lady and walked with a firm tread to the door.
"I shall make them take notice tonight!" he cried. "I shall return with success!"
So again he went down the long flights of stairs and down the street until he came to a good corner where traffic was heavy.
There, with the mood upon him which had fired him in the attic, he played again the wild melody.
A few people hesitated as they passed, but only one stopped. This was an old woman, bent and wrinkled, who helped herself along with a cane. She stopped and looked him squarely in the eye and the little old man felt he should recognize her, but he could not remember where he had seen her before, nor was he sure that he had ever looked upon her until now.
At any rate, the faint memory inspired him and, raising his violin, he played a beautiful lullaby.
Before he had finished the old woman leaned over and dropped something into his little tin cup.
It sounded as loud as a silver dollar would have sounded.
"The dear old generous soul!" the old man thought as he continued playing.
He played for hours, but the old woman was the only one who stopped. "I will at least have enough to get Cynthia some warm food!" he said, thinking of what the old lady had dropped into his tin cup.
But when he looked, what was his dismay to see only a large iron ring!
Again he climbed the stairs to the attic but he felt too weary to say a thing and his sister knew that he had met with disappointment. He tossed the iron ring to her lap and went over to the bed and threw himself upon it.
"This is the end!" he said, and told her about the iron ring.
"The old woman seemed interested in my playing!" he said, "And perhaps she gave all she could give!"
"Let us not be downhearted, Brother!" said the sister. "Surely tomorrow you will find someone who will reward your talent!"
The little old man was quiet for a long time and then he arose and again drew his bow across the violin strings. The old lady sat very still and dreamed, for her brother was playing one of their childhood songs.
As she lost herself in reverie, she turned the iron ring around her finger and saw upon its surface, as she turned it, the faces of her playmates of long ago.
And as the brother swept from one melody to another, she saw the iron ring change color and grow larger and larger.
And, as she turned it, she saw the figures of her childhood playmates turn before her upon her lap, and they joined their voices with the silvery notes of the violin's long ago songs until the attic was filled with the melody and the figures danced from her lap and, taking her by the hand, circled in the center of the attic room laughing and singing.
The little old man had been playing with his eyes closed, but as the songs grew louder he opened them and beheld the ring of little figures, with his sister holding hands with two of them. And, rising from the bed, still playing the childhood songs of long ago, he walked to the center of the room. As he did so, the figures rose in the air and seemed to grow lighter and larger. And suddenly the scene changed! He was out in the woods, with lofty trees towering above him, while all about, laughing and talking, were hundreds of little fairies, gnomes and sprites, and there, too, were the playmates of long ago, just as he had seen them when he had closed his eyes and played in the attic.
And there, too, was his sister as she had been when a child. He looked at himself, and lo! he was no longer wrinkled and old. He was young again!
In his gladness he danced with joy, and catching his sister to his breast he kissed her again and again.
And, looking about him with shining eyes, he again drew his bow across the strings and played a tune so lively and full of sweet happiness the childhood friends caught hands and danced in a circle, and the little sprites, elves, gnomes and fairies caught hands and danced around the children, and as they passed before the brother he caught a mischievous glance from the eyes of one of the little fairies, and he knew in a moment she was the one who had played the old woman, and who had given him the iron ring....
The people who lived in the room below the attic room missed the little old man's shuffling step, and, not hearing it for two days, they told the landlady, a kindly soul who had let the brother and sister have the attic room free of charge, and all went up to investigate....
They rapped upon the attic door. All was quiet within. Timidly they opened the door and looked in. There upon the floor lay an old rusty iron ring. It was the Fairy Ring.
MR. AND MRS. THUMBKINS
Thumbkins ran beneath the bushes and down the tiny path until he came to where Tommy Grasshopper sat upon a blade of grass swinging in the breeze.
"Have you seen Mrs. Thumbkins, Tommy Grasshopper?" Thumbkins called.
"I have been asleep," replied Tommy Grasshopper, "And I haven't seen her!"
"Oh dear! Oh dear!" cried Thumbkins. "She has not been home all day!"
"Perhaps she went over to see Granpa Tobackyworm!" suggested Tommy Grasshopper, as he flicked his wings and made the blade of grass swing up and down.
So Thumbkins thanked Tommy Grasshopper and ran over to Granpa Tobacyworm's house.
Granpa Tobackyworm was sitting upon a blade of grass, swinging in the breeze and smoking his old clay pipe.
"Oh, Granpa Tobackyworm! Have you seen Mrs. Thumbkins? She has not been at home all day and I can not find her!" cried Thumbkins.
"Yes, I saw her early this morning going down the path with her acorn basket," said Granpa Tobackyworm as he blew a few rings of smoke in the air. "Perhaps she has gone to the Katydid grocery store to buy something," Granpa Tobackyworm added as he bounced up and down on his blade of grass.
So Thumbkins thanked Granpa Tobackyworm and went on down the tiny path.
"Hello, Thumbkins!" cried a cheery voice as Thumbkins ran under a bunch of flowers. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"
Thumbkins saw Billy Bumblebee sitting upon one of the flowers, swinging in the breeze.
"Mrs. Thumbkins has not been home all day!" said Thumbkins. "And I can not find her anywhere!"
"HUMMMM!" replied Billy Bumblebee. "Let me think! HUMMMM!" This was his way of thinking very hard.
"Perhaps she has gone over to see Granpa Tobackyworm, Mr Thumbkins!"
"No!" replied Thumbkins, "I went there, and also over to the Katydid store, but she was not there!"
"Suppose you climb upon my back, Thumbkins, and let me help you find her!" said Billy Bumblebee, as he buzzed his wings, making the flower sway up and down. So Thumbkins climbed up the flower stalk and took a seat upon Billy Bumblebee's back.
"Let us fly way up in the air so that we may look down over all the country!" said Billy Bumblebee, as he made his wings whirr and climbed high in the air.
Billy Bumblebee and Thumbkins looked over the country carefully, but they could not see Mrs. Thumbkins anywhere.
Finally Billy's sharp eyes discovered something shiny down by the side of the pond, so they flew down towards it. It was a new tin can house. The door was closed.
Thumbkins alighted from Billy Bumblebee's back and knocked at the door.
TINKY-TINKY-TINK!
"GRUMP! GRUMP!" said a deep voice from inside the tin can house. Billy Bumblebee peeped through a chink in a window, and saw a hoppy-toad with his mouth full of pancakes.
So Thumbkins picked up a pebble and knocked louder. TONKY-TONKY-TONK!
Old Man Hoppy-toad came to the door with a pancake in each hand and another large one in his mouth. "GRUMP! GRUMP!" he said.
"Where is Mrs. Thumbkins?" Billy Bumblebee demanded, as he buzzed around Old Man Hoppy-toad's head.
"I don't know!" said Old Man Hoppy-toad when he had swallowed the pancake.
"Yes, you do!" Thumbkins cried as he caught Old Man Hoppy-toad's hand. "Who made those pancakes for you?"
Billy Bumblebee buzzed closer to Old Man Hoppy-toad's head and Old Man Hoppy-toad blinked his big round eyes and finally said, "She is locked up in the kitchen!"
So Thumbkins ran to the kitchen and came out with Mrs. Thumbkins. Old Man Hoppy-toad had locked her in the kitchen so she would have to bake lots and lots of pancakes for him.
Thumbkins was so glad to see Mrs. Thumbkins he came very near crying. And Billy Bumblebee said to Old Man Hoppy-toad, "Now you must leave our neighborhood, for we do not permit anyone to bother anyone else in the Town of Tinythings."
So Old Man Hoppy-toad had to pack up all his things in a red handkerchief and hustle out of town.
And Billy Bumblebee buzzed right around his head as Old Man Hoppy-toad went down the path "Lickity split-Hoppity hop!" and never once looked behind him.
Thumbkins and Mrs. Thumbkins went back home, and when Billy Bumblebee returned and told them he had made Old Man Hoppy-toad go 'way down to the river they knew they would never be troubled with him again.
Mrs. Thumbkins said she had fried pancakes all day but she was not too tired to fry more. So she made a lot of pancakes, while Billy Bumblebee flew home and returned with a bucket of honey, and they had so many pancakes Mrs. Thumbkins asked Billy Bumblebee if he would fly around and invite all the neighbors in to help eat them.
Tommy Grasshopper, Granpa Tobackyworm, and all the other friends of the Thumbkins came and ate the lovely pancakes, covered with the delicious honey.
And, after eating as much as they could, everybody caught hold of hands and danced until late in the night, for the Katydid orchestra was there to furnish the music.
