Brownies and Bogles

  CHAPTER XI.

  FAIRYLAND.

  "And never would I tire, Janet, In Fairyland to dwell."

  SO runs the song. Who would weary of so sweet a place? At least, wethink of it as a sweet place; but like this own world of ours, it waswhatever a man's eyes made it: good and gracious to the good, troublousto the evil. According to an old belief, a mean or angry, or untruthfulperson, always exposed himself, by the very violence of his wrong-doing,to become an inmate of Fairyland; and for such a one, it could not havebeen all sunshine. A foot set upon the fairy-ring was enough to cause amortal to be whisked off, pounded, pinched, bewildered, and left farfrom home. It was a strange experience, and it is recorded that itbefell many a lad and maid to be loosed from earth, and cloistered foruncounted years, to return, like our Catskill hero, Rip Van Winkle,after what he supposes to be a little time, and to find that generationshad passed away. For those absent took no thought of time's passing, andon reaching earth again, would begin where their lips had dropped asentence half-spoken, a hundred years before. Tales of such truants arecommon the world over.

  Gitto Bach (little Griffith) was a Welsh farmer's boy, who looked aftersheep on the mountain-top. When he came home at evenfall he often showedhis brothers and sisters bits of paper stamped like money. Now when itwas given to him, it was real money; but the fairy-gifts would not bearhandling, and turned useless and limp as soon as Gitto showed them. Oneday he did not return. After two years his mother found him one morningat the door, smiling, and with a bundle under his arm. She asked him,with many tears, where he had been so long, while they had mourned forhim as dead. "It is only yesterday I went away!" said Gitto. "See thepretty clothes the mountain-children gave me, for dancing with them tothe music of their harps." And he opened his bundle, and showed abeautiful dress: but his mother saw it was only paper, after all, likethe fairy money.

  GITTO BACH AND THE FAIRIES.]

  KAGUYAHIME, THE MOON-MAID.]

  Our pretty friends enjoyed beguiling mortals into their shiningunderworld, with song, and caresses, and winning promises. Once themortal entered, he met with warm welcomes from all, and the mostexquisite meat and drink were set before him. Now, if he had but thecourage to refuse it, he soon found himself back on earth, whence he wasstolen. But if he yielded to temptation, and his tongue tasted fairyfood, he could never behold his native hills again for years and years.And when, after that exquisite imprisonment, he should be torn from hisdelights and set back at his father's door, he should find his memoryalmost forgotten, and others sitting with a claim in his empty seat. Andhe should not remember how long he had been missing, but grow silent anddepressed, and sit for hours, with dreamy eyes, on lonely slopes andwildwood bridges, not desiring fellowship of any soul alive; but with aheartache always for his little lost playfellows, and for that brightcountry far away, until he died.

  Often the creature who has once stood in the courts of Fairyland, isplaced under vow, when released, and allowed to visit the earth, to comeback at call, and abide there always. For the spell of that place is sostrong, no heart can escape it, nor wish to escape it. Thus ends the oldromance of Thomas the Rhymer: that, at the end of seven years, he wasfreed from Fairyland, made wise beyond all men; but he was sworn toreturn whenever the summons should reach him. And once as he was makingmerry with his chosen comrades, a hart and a hind moved slowly along thevillage street; and he knew the sign, laid down his glass, and smiledfarewell; and followed them straightway into the strange wood, never tobe seen more by mortal eyes.

  A wonderful and beautiful Japanese story, too, the ancient TaketoriMonogatari, written in the first half of the tenth century, tells us howa grey-haired bamboo-gatherer found in a bamboo-blade a radiantelf-baby, and kindly took it home to his wife; and because of theirgreat and ready generosity to the waif, the gods made them thrive inpurse and health; and how, when the little one had been with them threemonths, Kaguyahime, for that was she, grew suddenly to a tall and fairgirl, and so remained unchanging, for twenty years, while five gallantJapanese lords were doing her strange commands, and running risks theworld over. Then, though the emperor, also, was her suitor, and thoughshe was unspeakably fond of her old foster-parents, and grieved to gofrom them, she, being a moon-maid, went back in her chariot one gloriousnight to her shining home, whence she had been banished for some oldfault, and whither the love and longing and homage of all the landpursued her.

  Many sweet wild Welsh and Cornish legends deal with shepherds and yeomenwho set foot on a fairy mound by chance, or who, in some other fashion,were transplanted to the realm of the dancing, feasting elves. But theyhave a pathetic ending, since no wanderer ever strayed back with all hisold wits sound and sharp. He seemed as one who walked in sleep, and hadno care or recognition for the faces that once he held dear. And if hewere roused too rudely from his long reverie, he died of the shock.

  THE LITTLE HUNCHBACK.]

  A merrier tale, and one which is very wise and pretty as well, iscurrent in many literatures. The Irish version runs somewhat in thisfashion, and the Spanish and Breton versions are extraordinarily likeit. A little hunchback resting at nightfall in an enchantedneighborhood, heard the fairies, from their borderlands near by, singingover and over the names of the days of the week. "And Sunday, andMonday, and Tuesday!" they chorus: "and Sunday and Monday and Tuesday."The boy thinks it rather hard that they do not know enough to finishtheir musical chant with the names of the remaining days; so, when theypause a little, very softly, and tunefully, he adds: "And Wednesday"!The wee folk are delighted, and make their chant longer by one strophe;and they crowd out in their finery from the mound, bearing the strangerfar down into its depths where there are the glorious open halls ofFairyland: kissing and praising their friend, and bringing him thedaintiest fruit lips ever tasted; and to reward him lastingly, theirsoft little hands lift the cruel hump from his back, and he runs dancinghome, at a year's end, to acquaint the village with his happy fortune.Now another deformed lad, his neighbor, is racked with jealousy at thesight of his former friend made straight and fair; and he rushes to thefairy-mound, and sits, scowling, waiting to hear them begin the magicsong. Presently rise the silver voices: "And Sunday, and Monday, andTuesday, and Wednesday, and Sunday and Monday and Tuesday andWednesday": whereat the audience breaks in rudely, right in the middleof a cadence: "And Friday." Then the gentle elves were wrathful, andswarmed out upon him, snarling and striking at him in scorn; and beforehe escaped them, they had fastened on his crooked back beside his own,the very hump that had belonged to the first comer! In the anecdote, asit is given in Picardy, the justice-dealing goblins are described asvery small and comely, clad in violet-colored velvet, and wearing hatsladen with peacock plumes. In the Japanese rendering, a wen takes theplace of the hump.

  Fairyland is the home of every goblin, bright or fierce, that ever weheard of; the home, too, of the ogres and dragons, and enchantedprincesses, and demons, and Jack-the-giant-killers of all time. TheBrownies belonged there, and went thither in their worldly finery, whenservice was over; the gnomes and snarling mine-sprites, the sweetdancing elves, the fairies who stole children, or romped under theriver's current, or plagued honest farmers, or tiptoed it with a torchdown a lonesome road--every one there had his country and his fireside.

  TAKNAKANX KAN.]

  In that merry company were many who have escaped us, and who sit in ablossomy corner by themselves, the oddest of the odd: like the JapaneseTengus, who have little wings and feathers, like birds, until they grewup; mouths very seldom opened, and most amazing big noses, with which,on earth, they were wont to fence, to whitewash, to write poetry, and toring bells! There, too, were the dark-skinned Indian wonder-babies:Weeng, whom Mr. Longfellow celebrates as Nepahwin, the Indian god ofsleep, with his numerous train of little fairy men armed with clubs; whoat nightfall sought out mortals, and with innumerable light blows upontheir foreheads, compelled them to slumber. The great boaster, Iagoo,whom Hiawatha knew, once declared that he had seen King Weeng hims
elf,resting against a tree, with many waving and music-making wings on hisback. Indian, likewise, was the spirit named Canotidan, who dwelt inmany a hollow tree; and the lively fellow, Taknakanx Kan, who sported"in the nodding flowers; who flew with the birds, frisked with thesquirrels, and skipped with the grasshopper; who was merry with the gayrunning brooks, and shouted with the waterfall; who moved with thesailing cloud, and came forth with the dawn." He never slept, and neverhad time to sleep, being the god of perpetual motion. Near him, perhaps,see-sawed a couple of long-eyed Chinese San Sao, or the glossy-hairedFees of Southern France pelted one another with dew-drops. There also,the African Yumboes had their magnificent tents spread: those strangelittle thieving Banshee-Brownies, wrapped in white cotton pangs, wholeaned back in their seats after a gorgeous repast, and beheld an armyof hands appear and carry off the golden dishes! There abided, as thevenerated elder of the rest, the long-bearded Pygmies whom Homer,Aristotle and good Herodotus had not scorned to celebrate, whom Sir JohnMandeville avowed to be "right fair and gentle, after their quantities,both the men and the women.... And he that liveth eight year, men holdhim right passing old ... and of the men of our stature have they asgreat scorn and wonder as we would have among us of giants!"

  Of these and thousands more marvellous is Fairyland full; full of thingsstartling and splendid and grewsome and visionary:

  ----full of noises, Sounds and sweet airs that give delight, and hurt not.

  Any picture of it is tame, any worded description dull and heavy, to youwho discover it daily at first hand, and who know its faces and voices,which fade too quickly from the brain. All fine adventures springthence: all loveliest color, odor and companionship are in thatstirring, sparkling world. Can you not help us back there for an hour?Who knows the path? Who can draw a map, and set up a sign-post? Who canbar the gate, when we are safe inside, and keep us forever and ever inour forsaken "dear sweet land of Once-upon-a-Time"?