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A ROUND DOZEN.
TOINETTE AND THE ELVES.
Down on the ground beside her, a tiny figure became visible, so smallthat Toinette had to kneel and stoop her head to see it.--PAGE 234.]
A ROUND DOZEN.
BY
SUSAN COOLIDGE,
AUTHOR OF "THE NEW YEAR'S BARGAIN," "WHAT KATY DID," "WHAT KATY DID AT SCHOOL," "MISCHIEF'S THANKSGIVING," "NINE LITTLE GOSLINGS," "EYEBRIGHT," "CROSS-PATCH," "A GUERNSEY LILY."
QUI LEGIT REQIT]
BOSTON: ROBERTS BROTHERS. 1892.
_Copyright, 1883_,
BY ROBERTS BROTHERS.
UNIVERSITY PRESS: JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE.
TO
V V V V V
_Five little buds grouped round the parent stem, Growing in sweet airs, beneath gracious skies, Watched tenderly from sunrise to sunrise, Lest blight, or chill, or evil menace them._
_Five small and folded buds, just here and there Giving a hint of what the bloom may be, When to reward the long close ministry The buds shall blossom into roses fair._
_Soft dews fall on you, dears, soft breezes blow, The noons be tempered and the snows be kind, And gentle angels watch each stormy wind, And turn it from the garden where you grow._
CONTENTS.
PAGE THE LITTLE WHITE DOOR 9 LITTLE KAREN AND HER BABY 34 HELEN'S THANKSGIVING 47 AT FIESOLE 67 QUEEN BLOSSOM 93 A SMALL BEGINNING 115 THE SECRET DOOR 135 THE TWO WISHES 156 BLUE AND PINK 183 A FORTUNATE MISFORTUNE 198 TOINETTE AND THE ELVES 232 JEAN'S MONEY, AND WHAT IT BOUGHT 259 HOW THE STORKS CAME AND WENT 277
THE LITTLE WHITE DOOR.
I SUPPOSE that most boys and girls who go to school and study geographyknow, by sight at least, the little patch of pale pink which is markedon the map as "Switzerland." I suppose, too, that if I asked, "What canyou tell me about Switzerland?" a great many of them would cry out, "Itis a mountainous country, the Alps are there, Mont Blanc is there, thehighest land in Europe." All this is true; but I wonder if all of thosewho know even so much have any idea what a beautiful country Switzerlandis? Not only are the mountains very high and very grand, but the valleyswhich lie between are as green as emerald, and full of all sorts of wildflowers; there are lakes of the loveliest blue, rivers which foam anddash as merrily as rivers do in America, and the prettiest farmhouses inthe world,--_chalets_ the Swiss call them,--with steep roofs and hangingbalconies, and mottoes and quaint ornaments carved all over theirfronts. And the most peculiar and marvellous thing of all is the strangenearness of the grass and herbage to the snows. High, high up in thefoldings of the great mountains on whose tops winter sits all the yearlong, are lovely little valleys hidden away, where goats and sheep feedby the side of glacier-fed streams; and the air is full of the tinkle oftheir bells, and of the sweet smells of the mountain flowers. The waterof these streams has an odd color which no other waters have,--a sort ofmilky blue-green, like an opal. Even on the hottest days a chilly airplays over their surface, the breath, as it were, of the greatice-fields above, from whose melting snows the streams are fed. And thehigher you climb, still greener grow the pastures and thicker theblossoms, while the milk in the _chalet_ pans seems half cream, it is sorich. Delicious milk it is, ice cold, and fragrant as if the animalswhich produce it had fed on flowers. Oh, Switzerland is a wonderful landindeed!
One day as I sat in a thicket of Alp roses in one of those lovely,lonely upper valleys, I happened to raise my eyes, and noticed, high inthe cliff above, a tall narrow rock as white as snow, which lookedexactly like a door set in the face of the gray precipice. An oldshepherd came by, and I asked him about it. He said it was called "TheDoor," and that the valley was called "The Valley of the Door" by somefolks because of it, but that its real name was "_Das Fritzethal_," or"Fritz's Valley," on account of a boy called Fritz who once lived there.I wanted to know about the boy, and as the old man had a little time tospare, he sat down beside me and told this story, which I will now tellyou.
"It was many, many years ago," the shepherd said, "so many that no mannow remembers exactly when it happened. Fritz's mother was a widow, andhe was her only child. They were poor people, and had to work hard for aliving. Fritz was a steady, faithful lad, and did his best. All day longhe dug and toiled, and herded and milked and fed his goats; in thewinter he carved wooden bowls for sale in the lower valley; but, work ashe would, it was not always easy to keep the meal-bin full. What made itharder, were the strange storms which every few months swept the valleyand damaged the crops. Out of the blue sky, as it were, these stormswould suddenly drop. The sun would be shining one moment; the next,great torrents of rain would begin to fall and fierce winds to blow,flooding the crops and carrying drifts of sand and gravel across thefields. Then, at other times, no rain would fall for months together,and every green thing would be burned and dried up, while perhaps atthe very same time the lower valleys had plenty of rain. This happenedso often that people gave the Thal the name of "The Unlucky Valley," andit was accounted a sad thing to have to get a living there. The climateis very different now--praised be God.
"You can see, madame, that Fritz's lot was not strewn with roses. Stillhe was a brave lad, and did not lose heart. He had no play-fellows, butsometimes in the long summer days when he sat to watch the herd, hewould tell himself stories by way of amusement, and almost always thesestories were about the White Door up there, which was as much a marvelthen as now. At last, by dint of looking and dreaming, it grew to be solike a real door to him, that he resolved one day to climb up and see itcloser."
"Up there!" I cried with horror.
"Yes, madame. It was very rash. Any ordinary boy would have been dashedto pieces, but Fritz was wiry, strong, and active as a mountain goat.There are no such boys left nowadays. One night, while his mother slept,he stole away, climbed as high as he dared by moonlight, took a wink ofsleep under a shelving rock, and with the first dawn began to make hisway upward, testing every foothold, and moving cautiously; for though heloved adventure, Fritz was by no means a foolhardy boy, and had no mindto lose his life if wit and care could keep it safe. But the climb was aterrible one. He had been on precipices before, but never on such asthis. Only God's goodness saved him again and again. A hundred times hewished himself back, but to return was worse than to go on. So up and uphe went, and at last, scaling that sheer brown cliff which you seethere, and throwing himself breathless on a narrow ledge, he foundhimself close to the object of his desires. There, just before him, wasthe Little White Door.
Pretty soon he grew bold, and seizing the knocker he gavea loud rap.
PAGE 15.]
"The sight restored his energies at once. It was a real door--that hesaw at a glance, for there was a latch and a keyhole and a knocker--allcarved of white stone, and on the door a name in good German characters,'_Die Wolken_.' I do not know the name in English."
"It is 'Clouds,'" I told him.
"Ah, yes, 'die clouds.' Fritz could hardly believe his eyes, as you mayimagine.
"P
retty soon he grew bold, and seizing the knocker he gave a loud rap.Nobody answered at first, so he rapped again, louder and louder, untilthe sound echoed from the rocks like thunder. At last the door openedvery suddenly, and some one drew Fritz in and shut the door againquickly. All was dark inside, but he felt a cool touch on his wrist, anda hand he could not see led him along a rocky passage into the heart ofthe cliff.
"After a while a glimmering light appeared, and the passage turnedsuddenly into a large hall, which was full of people, Fritz thought atfirst; but then he saw that they were not people, but strange roundedshapes in white or gray, who moved and bounded, and seemed to be playinga game of some sort. It was like a game of bowls, but the things theyrolled to and fro on the rocky floor were not balls, but shapes likethemselves, only smaller and rounder, and of all beautiful colors, redand purple and yellow. The creatures liked to roll, it would seem, forthey skipped and jumped as they went along, and laughed with a sort ofcrackling laughter, which echoed oddly back from the roof of the cave.The big shapes laughed too in great booming tones. Altogether they madea great deal of noise. Still the damp little hand clasped Fritz's wrist,and looking down he saw that his guide was no other than one of thosesame small shapes which were the balls of the game. There was somethingso familiar in the pink-cheeked fleecy outline, that in his surpriseFritz forgot to be afraid, and spoke aloud, crying, 'Why! It's acloud!'
"'To be sure. What did you suppose me to be, and why did you come to theclouds' house if you didn't want to see clouds?' replied the thing.
"'Didn't you see our name on the door? Or perhaps you can't read,Stupid!' demanded a large white cloud, leaving the group of players andcoming up to Fritz and his companion.
"'Yes, I can read, and I did see the name,' stammered Fritz; 'still Ididn't--'
"'You did and you didn't; how intelligent you seem to be!' said thewhite cloud, with a toss and curl; while a big black thunder-cloud,pitching a little yellow one clear across the cave, shouted in sullentones which echoed frightfully from the rocks overhead, 'What's that boydoing here spoiling our game? Cumulus, it's your roll. Turn that littlebeggar out. He has no business here, interfering with the sports of hisbetters!'
"Fritz trembled, but his small conductor faced the black cloudundauntedly.
"'Hold your tongue!' he said. 'This boy is my visitor. I let him in, andyou're not to bully him. I won't permit it.'
"'_You_, indeed!' blustered the thunder-cloud. 'Pray, what can you doabout it, Little Pink? I shall say what I like, and do as I like.'
"'No, you won't,' cried all the small clouds together, rearingthemselves up from the floor. 'We fair-weather clouds are not a bitafraid of you, as you know. We know very well how to drive you blackones away, and we will do it now if you are not civil.' Their voicesthough bright were threatening, and one little violet bit made a dashstraight at the nose of the thunder-cloud, who shrank into a corner,muttering wrathfully.
"'Don't be at all afraid,' said Little Pink to Fritz, in a patronizingtone. 'He shan't do you any harm. That sort of cloud is always afraid toface us, because we are so many, you see, and can serve him as hedeserves. Well, now, and what brought you up here, pray?'
"'I didn't know who lived here, and I wanted so much to see,' repliedFritz, shyly.
"'You didn't? Didn't you know that this was our house?' demanded thelittle cloud, astonished.
"'No, indeed. I didn't even know that you had a house.'
"'What! Not know that? Pray, where did you suppose we were when youdidn't see us in the sky?' cried Little Pink. 'A house! Of course wehave a house. Everybody has one. You've got a house yourself, haven'tyou? Why, we've lived here always, all we clouds. Sometimes we havegreat family meetings, when we get together and indulge in all sorts offun and frolic, never going out doors for weeks at a time.'
"'Oh, those must be the times when our fields all burn up, and thestreams run dry, and the poor cattle low with thirst!' said Fritz,suddenly enlightened. 'So you are enjoying yourselves up here all thetime, are you? I call that very unkind, and--' Suddenly recollectingwhere he was, he hung his head, abashed at his own daring.
"Little Pink hung his head too, with a grieved face.
"'I never thought of that before,' he said penitently. 'It was pleasantfor us, and the time went fast. I recollect now that the world haslooked rather queer and yellow sometimes when we have come out againafter a long absence, but it grew green presently, and I did not supposeany one minded--'
"All this while a strange growling sound had been going on in a roomopening from the hall, across whose entrance stout bars were fixed.
"'What _is_ that?' asked Fritz, unable longer to restrain his curiosity.
"'That? That's only the North Wind,' replied Little Pink, in an absenttone. 'We've shut him up, because he has no business to be abroad in thesummer; and he's such a restless creature, and so violent, that he willbreak loose if he can, and do all manner of mischief. Last year, aboutthis time, he got out and raised a great storm, and made a fearful messof it down below.'
"'I recollect. That was the storm that killed three of our sheep, andruined the barley crop,' exclaimed Fritz. 'Oh, it was dreadful! We hadto make half a loaf do the work of a whole one all winter long inconsequence. It was hungry times in the valley, I can tell you. Oh, theevil Wind!'
"'You poor fellow!' cried the little cloud. 'Well, he's safe now, as yousee. He can't get out and plague you this year, at least. But I'm sosorry you went hungry. It wasn't our fault, really it wasn't; still Ishould like to make it up to you somehow, if I could.' He reflected amoment, then he went forward and gave a call which collected all theother clouds around him. Fritz watched them consulting together; at lastthey moved toward him in a body.
"'Now, Boy,' said Little Pink, who seemed to have elected himselfspokesman, 'because you're a good boy and have had bad luck, and becauseyou're the first boy who ever came up here and rapped on our door, we'regoing to propose a bargain. So long as you live in the valley below andare steady, and work hard and keep a kind heart in your bosom for peoplenot so well off as yourself, so long we will look after your farm andbefriend it. Water shall fall on it regularly, flood and tempest shallspare it, the grass shall never dry, nor the brook fail, nor the herdslack for food. We shall watch closely, and so long as you keep your wordwe will keep ours. Do you agree?'
"'What! never any more droughts, never any floods,' cried Fritz, unableto believe such good news. 'Oh, how happy mother will be! Indeed, indeedI will do my best--pray believe that I will.'
"'The proof of the pudding,' began Cumulus, but Little Pink silencedhim with a wave of his hand.
"'Very well, you do your best and we will do ours,' he said in a cheerytone. 'Now about getting you home. Do you know how late it is?'
"'No,' said Fritz, who had forgotten all about time.
"'It is just noon.'
"'Really? Oh, how frightened the mother will be!' cried Fritz, his heartsinking as he thought of the terrible cliffs which he must descend.
"'He never can go home as he came,' declared a rainbow, craning its longcurved neck like a giraffe's over the heads of the others.
"'I'll tell you, let us all carry him down on our shoulders,' suggestedLittle Pink.
"'So we will,' shouted the clouds in a chorus; and jostling and laughingthey all crowded into the narrow passage, bearing Fritz in their midst.As the door swung open, in swept fresh visitors, a crowd of tinyscurrying shapes, and some one behind, whipping them along with a lashof many-colored air.
"'Why, where are you all going?' demanded the new-comer, in a breezyvoice. 'I've collected these stray lambs from hither and yon, and nowI'm in for the day. What takes you out, pray?'
"'We'll not be gone a minute. We're only going to carry this boy home,'answered the rest; while Little Pink whispered in Fritz's ear, 'That'sthe West Wind. He's a great favorite with us all.'
"'Hallo! A boy! Why, so it is,' cried West Wind. He pounced on Fritz ashe spoke, kissed him, ruffled his hair, boxed his ears softly,
all in aminute. Then, with a gay, whooping laugh he vanished into the passage,while the clouds, raising Fritz, floated downward like a flock ofwhite-winged birds. Little Pink lay under his cheek like a pillow.Softly as thistle-down touches earth they landed on the valley floor,laid Fritz on a bed of soft grass, and rose again, leaving him there. Helooked up to watch them rise, bright and smiling. Little Pink waved arosy hand. Higher and higher sailed the clouds, then they vanished intothe door, and the door was shut."
I am telling the story, as you see, rather in my own words than in thoseof the old shepherd, but you won't mind that. The truth is, I cannotremember the exact language he used, but so long as I keep to the mainpoints of the history it doesn't much matter, does it?
"In a few minutes Fritz recovered his wits and made haste home, for hefeared his mother might be alarmed at his long absence. She was not,however, for she supposed that he had risen early, as he sometimes did,and taking a piece of bread in his hand, had followed the goats up thevalley, breakfasting by the way. She met him, full of wonder at astrange thing that had happened.
"'Such a queer mist filled the valley just now,' she said, 'I could notsee the sun at all. I feared a storm was coming, but presently it rolledaway all in a minute, and left the day as fine as ever. Did you noticeit? I never saw anything like it before.'
"Fritz let his mother wonder, and held his peace. She would think thathe had fallen asleep and dreamed it all, he was sure; in fact, after alittle he himself began to believe that it was a dream.
"But, dream or no dream, the strange thing was that it came true! Fromthat time on, the climate of the Unlucky Valley seemed to change. Yearspassed by without a single drought or inundation. When the pasturesbelow were parched with thirst, rain fell on Fritz's fields, keepingthem green as emerald. All his crops succeeded; his goats and sheep gavedouble share of milk, and little by little he grew rich.
"'The Lucky Valley,' people now called the once unlucky spot, while toFritz they gave the name of 'The Favored of the Saints.' Year afteryear his gains went on increasing. Gradually all the land in the valleybecame his, except one tiny strip, there at the upper end, whichbelonged to a widow, poor as Fritz's mother once had been. This stripFritz desired to buy, but the widow refused to sell, though he offered alarge price. She had come there a bride, she declared, with themyrtle-crown on her head, and there she wished to die and be buried whenher time should come. The memory of his own poor mother, who had diedsome time before, should have made Fritz pitiful to this lonely woman,but his heart had grown hard with continued prosperity, and it angeredhim to be opposed. So when after many attempts she persisted in herresolution, he tried harsher means. The widow had debts. These he boughtup, and when she could not pay he brought the pressure of the law tobear, and turned her from her home.
"The very night after he had watched her depart, weeping andbroken-hearted, as he lay on his bed, feeling at last that the valleywas all his own, the Little White Door opened on the cliffs far above,and out came the clouds.
"Not pink and purple now, smiling and full of good will, but black andwrathful. Like a flock of dark vultures they swooped at the sleepingvalley. Floods of rain fell, fierce winds tore and raved, the river roseand burst its bounds, carrying all before it; and Fritz, awakened by thefearful roar, had just time to escape from his bed and gain the nearerhillside, when the waters struck the _chalet_ and bore it away in ruinsdown the valley, as though it were no more than a bubble of foam. Thecrops were swept off, the flocks drowned in the fields. Fritz clung to atree-trunk through that fearful night, listening to the hiss and rush ofthe flood, and the bleatings of the drowning sheep; and ever and anon itseemed as if shapes, dimly seen through the darkness, swooped at andbuffeted him, while voices cried in his ear, 'Promise-breaker!Widow-spoiler! Is _this_ the way you keep faith with the clouds?'
"When morning dawned it revealed a scene of ruin. Not a blade of barleyremained in the meadows, not a blade of grass in the fields. The laborof years had vanished in a single night."
"It served him right," said I.
"Ah, my lady," replied the old shepherd, "God is more merciful tosinners than we men can be. Fritz was not wicked at heart. He saw hisfault now in the light of his misfortune, and was sorry for it. Gladlywould he have made amends, but he was now poor as the poorest, for thewaters lay over the earth, and did not run off as waters generally do.The fertile valley was become a lake, into which points of land, fringedwith broken and battered trees, pushed themselves. It was a sad sight.
"News of the disaster reached the lower valleys, and the kindly peasantsflocked to help. But what could they do till the water receded?Nothing. They could only say comforting words and return to their homes,leaving Fritz to his fate.
"He waited many days, then he formed a bold resolution. He determined toclimb the cliff once more, knock at the Little White Door, and pleadwith the clouds for forgiveness."
"That was bold indeed," I said.
"It was a much harder task than it had been years before, when he was aboy and his joints were supple," continued the old shepherd. "Onlydesperation carried him upward, but at last he did reach the door. Heknocked many times without answer, and when at length the door opened,it was not a merry little cloud which appeared, but a tall, gloomy whiteone, which looked like a sheeted ghost. No game was going on in thegreat hall. The clouds, dressed in black, each with his thunder-cap on,sat side by side, and frowned on Fritz as he stood in the midst and madehis plea.
"'I have sinned,' he said sadly, as he ended, 'I have sinnedgrievously, and I am justly punished. I forgot my promise to you, _meineHerren_, and I cannot complain that you broke yours to me. But give meone more chance, I implore you. Let me atone for my fault, and if I failagain, punish me as you will.'
"It seemed to him that the clouds grew a little less gloomy as he spoke,and their voices were gentle as they replied, 'Very well, we willconsider of it. Now go.' There was no offer to carry him this time.Exhausted and weary he groped his way down at peril to life and limb,and more dead than alive crept into the miserable shed which hadreplaced his home, with no assured hope as to what the clouds mightelect to do.
"But lo, in the morning the waters had begun to fall. He hardly daredbelieve his eyes, but day by day they slowly grew less. By the end of afortnight the ground was left bare. Such land! Rough, seamed, gullied bythe flood, covered with slime from the mountain side and with rocks andgravel,--it seemed a hopeless task to reclaim it again into pasture.
"But Fritz was a strong man and his will was good. Little by little therocks were removed, the fields resown, and the valley restored to itsold fruitfulness. The soil seemed richer than ever before, as if the mudand slime which had lain so long on the surface were possessed of somefertilizing quality. Another _chalet_ in time arose, in place of the oldone. By the end of fifteen years Fritz again was a rich man, richer thanbefore. But his hard heart had been drowned in the flood, and the newheart which he brought back from the Little White Door was soft andkind. As soon as he could, he sought out the poor widow and restored toher all she had lost, land and home and goats. Later on he wedded herniece, a good and honest maiden, and they took the widow to live undertheir own roof, and were to her as a son and daughter. So the last yearsof Fritz were his best years, and his name, 'The Favored of theSaints,' stuck to him for the rest of his life. And it is from him thatthis valley is named _Das Fritzethal_, my lady."
"And is the story really a true one?" I asked.
"Ah, who knows?" said the old shepherd, shaking his head wisely. "Theworld has so many liars in it that no one can be sure." Then he took offhis odd pointed hat, made a bow, called to his goats, and went his waydown the valley, followed by the herd with their many-keyed tinklingbells.
I looked up. The Little White Door shone out of the face of the cliffall rosy pink with sunset. It was time for me to go also.
"At least," I thought, "if the story is not all true, if it has changedand grown a little during the course of the years,--at least it is agood
story, and I am glad I heard it."