Aileen Aroon, A Memoir
What can he know?'
"Little Lizzie had the same kind pity on Harry's physical weakness asshe had for his mental. Her cousin couldn't climb the broom-clad hillsas she could--not at first, at all events; but after one month's stay inthis wild, free country, new life and spirit seemed to be instilled intohim. He could climb hills now fast enough; and he was never tiredwandering in the dark pine forests, or over the mountains that were nowbedecked in the glorious purple of the heather's bloom.
"Harry's uncle gave him many a bit of good advice, which went far todispel both his doubts and fears, and that means his ignorance; for onlythe very ignorant dare to doubt what they cannot understand. `There aremore things in heaven and earth,' said his uncle one day, `than we havedreamed of in our philosophy. What would you think of my honest dogthere if he told you the electric telegraph was an impossibility, simplybecause _he_ couldn't understand it? Have faith, boy, have faith.'
"But would it be believed that this boy, this London boy, didn't knowwhere chickens came from? He really didn't. Very little thingssometimes form the turning-point in the history of great men, and leadthem to a better train of thought. For remember that our mighty riversthat bear great navies to the ocean, like mighty thoughts, have verysmall beginnings.
"Harry observed a hen one day in a very great blaze of excitement. Herchickens were hatching. One after another they were popping out of theshell, and going directly to seek for food. One little fellow, who hadjust come out, was clapping his wings and stretching himself as coollyas if he had just come by train, and was glad the journey was over.This was all very wonderful to Harry; it led him to think; the thoughtled to wisdom and faith.
"Harry took a long walk that day in his favourite pine forest, and forthe first time in his life, it struck him that every creature he sawthere had some avocation; flies, beetles, and birds, all were working.Says Harry to himself, `I, too, will be industrious. I may yet besomething in this great world, in which I am now convinced everything iswell ordained.'
"He kept that resolve firmly, unflinchingly; he is, while I write, oneof the wealthiest merchants in London city; he is happy enough in thisworld, and has something in his breast which enables him to lookbeyond."
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"Now one other," said Ida; "I know you have lots of pretty tales in thatold portfolio."
"Well," I said, smiling, "here goes; and then you'll sleep."
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KING JOHN; OR, THE TALE OF A TUB.
"King John, he called himself, but every human being about the farm ofButtercup Hill called him Jock--simply that, and nothing else. ButJock, or King John, there was one thing that nobody could deny--he wasnot only the chief among all the other fowls around him, but he thoughthimself a very important and a very exalted bird indeed; and no wonderthat he clapped his wings and crowed defiance at any one who chanced totake particular notice of him, or that he asked in defiant tones, `Kok_aik_ uk uk?' with strong emphasis on the `_aik_,' and which in Englishmeans, `How dare you stand and stare at _me_?'
"King John's tail was a mass of nodding plumage of the darkest purple,his wattles and comb were of the rosiest red, his wings and neck werecrimson and gold, and his batonlike legs were armed with spurs as longas one's little finger, and stronger and sharper than polished steel.Had you dared to go too near any one of his feathered companions--thatis, those whom he cared about--you would have repented it the very nextminute, and King John's spurs would have been brought into play. ButJock wouldn't have objected to your admiring them, so long as you keptat a respectable distance, on the other side of the fence, for instance.And pretty fowls they were--most of them young too--golden-pencilledHamburgs, sprightly Spaniards, and sedate-looking Dorkings, to saynothing of two ancient grand hens of no particular breed at all, butwho, being extremely fat and imposing in appearance, were admitted tothe high honour of roosting every night one on each side of the king,and were moreover taken into consultation by him, in every matter likelyto affect the interests of his dynasty, or the welfare of the juniormembers of the farmyard.
"Now Jock was deeply impressed with the dignity of the office he held.He was a very proud king--though, to his credit be it said, he was alsoa very good king. And never since he had first mounted his throne--anold water-tub, by the way--and sounded his shrill clarion, shouting achallenge to every cock or king within hearing--never, I say, had hebeen known to fill his own crop of a morning until the crops of all thehens about him were well packed with all good comestibles. Such thenwas Jock, such was King John. But, mind you, this gallant bird had notbeen a king all his life. No, and neither had he been born a prince.There was a mystery about his real origin and species. Judging from thecolour of the egg from which he was hatched, Jock _ought_ to have been aCochin. But Jock was nothing of the sort, as one glance at our picturewill be sufficient to convince you. But I think it highly probable thatthe egg in question was stained by some unprincipled person, to cause itto look like that of the favourite Cochin. Be that as it may, Jock wasduly hatched, and in course of time was fully fledged, and one dayattempted to crow, for which little performance he was not only peckedon the back by the two fat old hens, but chased all round the yard byKing Cockeroo, who was then lord and master of the farmyard. When hegrew a little older he used to betake himself to places remote fromobservance, and study the song of chanticleer. But the older he grewthe prettier he grew, and the prettier he grew the more King Cockerooseemed to dislike him; indeed, he thrashed him every morning and everyevening, and at odd times during the day, so that at last Jock's lifebecame most unbearable. One morning, however, when glancing downwardsat his legs, he observed that his spurs had grown long and strong andsharp, and after this he determined to throw off for ever the yoke ofallegiance to cruel King Cockeroo; he resolved to try the fortune of wareven, and if he lost the battle, he thought to himself he would be noworse off than before.
"Now on the following day young Jock happened to find a nice largepotato, and said he to himself, `Hullo! I'm fortunate to-day; I'll havesuch a nice breakfast.'
"`Will you indeed?' cried a harsh voice quite close to his ear, and hefound himself in the dread presence of King Cockeroo, a very largeyellow Cochin China. `Will you indeed?' repeated his majesty. `Howdare _you_ attempt to eat a _whole_ potato. Put it down at once andleave the yard.'
"`I won't,' cried the little cock, quite bravely.
"`Then I'll make you,' roared the big one.
"`Then I shan't,' was the bold reply.
"Now, like all bullies, King Cockeroo was a coward at heart, so thebattle that followed was of short duration, but very decisive for allthat, and in less than five minutes King Cockeroo was flying inconfusion before his young but victorious enemy.
"When he had left the yard, the long-persecuted but now triumphant Jockmounted his throne--the afore-mentioned water-butt--and crew and crewand crew, until he was so hoarse that he couldn't crow any longer; thenhe jumped down and received the congratulations of all the inhabitantsof the farmyard. And that is how Jock became King John.
"The poor deposed monarch never afterwards dared to come near the yard,in which he had at one time reigned so happily. He slept no longer onhis old roost, but was fain to perch all alone on the edge of the gardenbarrow in the tool-house. He found no pleasure now in his sad andsorrowful life, except in eating; and having no one to share his mealswith him, he began to get lazy and fat, and every day he got lazier andfatter, till at last it was all he could do to move about with anythinglike comfort. When he wanted to relieve his mind by crowing, he had towaddle away to a safe distance from the yard, or else King John wouldhave flown upon him and pecked him most cruelly.
"And now those very fowls, who once thought so much of him, used tolaugh when they heard him crowing, and remark to young King John--
"`Just listen to that asthmatical old silly,' for his articulation wasnot so
distinct as it formerly was.
"`Kurr-r-r!' the new king would reply, `he'd better keep at arespectable distance, or cock-a-ro-ri-ko! I'll--I'll eat him entirelyup!'
"`I think,' said the farmer of Buttercup Hill one day to his wife--`Ithink we'd better have t'ould cock for our Sunday's dinner.'
"`Won't he be a bit tough?' his good wife replied.
"`Maybe, my dear,' said the farmer, `but fine and fat, and plenty ofhim, at any rate.'
"Poor Cockeroo, what a fall was his! And oh! the sad irony of fate, foron the very morning of this deposed monarch's execution, the sun wasshining, the birds singing, the corn springing up and looking so greenand bonny; and