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THE
YULE LOG.
A SERIES OF STORIES
FOR THE YOUNG.
NEW YORK:
STANFORD & DELISSER, 508 BROADWAY.
1859.
ENTERED according to Act of Congress, in the Year 1858, by
STANFORD AND DELISSER,
In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York.
INTRODUCTION.
It was an old custom, and one that still holds in many parts of England,to cut and dry, in order for burning, an enormous log, or “clog,” as itwas anciently called; the trunk or root of a very large tree wasgenerally used, which on “Merrie” Christmas Eve was paraded into thehouse, the father bearing it in his arms, and his family marching afterto the sound of music. It was then introduced into the great kitchenfire-place, and having lighted it with a brand which had been carefullypreserved from the last year’s clog, the household drew about thecheerful fire, and inspired by its warmth, and deep draughts ofnut-brown ale, “the song and tale went round.” Many such a ChristmasEve have I sat and listened to the tales so marvelous and strange; andnow, far away from those bygone scenes, I have striven to snatch fromthe decaying embers of memory, a little brand to light for my youthfulreaders a new “Yule Clog” for the coming Christmas season.
G. M. B.
GOLDEN HILL, }_November, 1858_.}
CONTENTS.
THE BOY AND HIS SILVER WINGS 7
THE SPARROW AND THE FAIRY 17
THE PRINCESS AND THE ROSE 28
THE BEAUTY IN THE MIST 39
THE RICH PERSIAN AND THE STATUE 55
THE ROSE AND THE LILY 76
THE GOLDEN CLOAK 86
THE WONDERFUL BIRD 111
THE MERMAID AND HER CHILD 133
THE YULE LOG.
I.
THE BOY AND HIS SILVER WINGS.
A little boy used to sit and gaze at the stars, and wonder and wonder.One in particular caught his attention; it was full and round, and shonewith a clear, steady light. One summer evening as he sat in the balcony,he saw it rise above the horizon, and then gradually go up higher andhigher. He was so full of thought, and so intent watching it, that heforgot everything about him, till his mother came to him, put her handon his shoulder, and told him it was bed-time.
After he had gone to bed, he dreamed of his star, and presentlyawakening, his mind was so full of it, that he would steal out softly,while all in the house were asleep, and see what had become of it. Whenhe reached the balcony he could not at first find it, as it had changedits place while he had been slumbering, but on looking directlyoverhead, there it was shining down upon him, and as he looked steadilyat it, he thought that it seemed almost to smile at him, and twinklemore and more. By and by he remembered he had heard that the stars wereworlds like our own, and that there were, most likely, inhabitants inthem. He then wondered if the people were like his father and mother andhimself; and a longing came into his heart to go to the star and learnall about it, and he stretched out his arms to it and cried aloud, “Myown beautiful star, shall I ever be ready to read you and to know allyour glories?”
While he was still yearning and crying, a bright angel stood before himand cried, “Poor boy, why do you weep?” The boy answered, “Because I ambound down to the earth, and can never go to yonder shining star thatseems to be calling me.”
The angel said, “Do you really then so desire to see it?” and the boytold her how he had been wishing and wishing for it. “Then,” said theangel, “I will give you this pair of wings, by which you may fly upwardto the star;” and as she spoke she fastened a pair of silver wings uponhis shoulders, and having instructed him how to use them, added, “Aslong as these are kept brightly polished, they will bear you upwardwhenever you may desire it, but if suffered to grow dull and to gettarnished, they will no longer avail you.”
The boy thanked her, and felt sure that he never should neglect to keepthe angel’s gift, which was to be the source of so much happiness tohim, bright and shining as now. She then left him. Again looking at thestar, and spreading forth his wings, as directed, he began gently toarise, fluttering and tumbling like a young bird taking its firstflight; but gaining boldness as he ascended, he breathed freer, till atlast he soared far, far on high, to the star, the beacon towards whichhe was directing his course; his bosom swelled triumphantly, and lookingback, he saw the earth receding like a dull spark beneath him. O, howunlike the glorious light before him! When at last he reached thegolden gates, where stood the angel waiting to receive him, his eyeswere so dazzled with the brightness that burst upon him, when first heentered, he could no longer perceive anything around him, but was, for atime, as one blind. Soon, however, regaining his vision, he began todescry beings unlike those that he had ever seen before, almosttransparent, with wings of golden gauze, sweeping hither and thither;forward bending their pinions, they skimmed along like beams oflight--myriads upon myriads passing to and fro, some bearing harps, fromwhose strings such notes arose as mortal ne’er has heard. Unlike thetoiling inhabitants of earth, these beings knew no labor, no hunger, nothirst--all was life, freedom, and enjoyment. The boy’s soul was stirredwithin him; he could have shouted aloud for joy and gladness.
But now the angel told him that he must return to earth. At thisintelligence the boy’s heart grew sad, and he exclaimed, “Bright angel,let me ever remain here--let this be forever more my home!” To this theangel replied, “Your time on earth is appointed--you must fulfill yourdays,--but while you still keep these wings bright, you can be permittedsuch glimpses of this world above you as may refresh your weary heart,and when the time for your sojourn beneath is ended, this higher spheremay be your eternal home.”
The angel attended him through the golden portals,--descended with himto the earth again, and alighted upon the same spot from whence he hadarisen.
The boy sat himself to work after the angel had left him, to erase fromhis wings every dull speck that the dampness of the night had left uponthem; and presently, when polished as a mirror, and he had laid themcarefully away, he retired to rest again and slept till the morningdawned. When he had arisen and looked forth, the scene which used to beso dazzling, now looked dull and blank to him, in comparison with thelight of his beloved star. All day long his thoughts were there, andwhen night came again, he was once more trying his new-found wingstoward the heavens. Every successive flight became easier and moredelightful to him, and the fleet moments spent among those superiorbeings became of far more consequence than whole days with his earthlyfriends. Though short his visits there, he became, as it were, likethose glorious beings--and it was remarked by all, that the child’s faceshone with an unearthly light, though none knew of his flights to thestar above, or the secret of his silver wings.
O! had this childlike obedience to the injunction of the angelcontinued, what happiness might the boy have always enjoyed! how wouldthese nightly visits to the star have solaced him during the weary hoursof his pilgrimage below! But the demon of idleness came at length,stealing in. With diligence _at first_, he polished, nightly, t
he silverwings; but soon the task became irksome, and was performed lessthoroughly--at times omitting it altogether, till they became each daymore difficult to use. He deferred his visits, and made them lessfrequent, till one night, after having neglected his opportunities fora longer period than ever, in attempting to rise with them, he foundthat they had entirely lost their power. On taking them off to see thecause of his failure, he beheld the once shining wings of silver sotarnished, that not one bright spot in them was visible. A burst ofgrief followed this discovery, and he cried again to the angel to cometo him in his distress; but finding no answer to his petition he laidthem aside and endeavored to forget all about them.
The boy became a man. In the lonely night, sometimes, the visions of hisboyhood, and his visits to the star, would present themselves to hismemory, and he would have a momentary longing for the brightness ofthose days, but as soon would he dismiss them, and even doubt that hehad ever known such hours of bliss. He would say, “The silver wings werenever mine--it was a fantasy of a diseased fancy, born of ignorance andsuperstition, which the light of the sun of manhood has dissipated;” andthen he would weave in his fertile brain plans for an earthly future,more suiting the changed state of his soul than the revelations of hisyouth.
He passed the summer of his manhood, and in the autumn, crowned withsuccess, he looked for the peace that never came. He found that in everyrose of earth is hid a thorn, and when the winter of age advanced towardhim, it found him a poor old man, seeking again the home of his boyhood;and there, with his grandchildren about him, looking forward to atermination and a transit from the present scene. And now, as the secondchildhood came upon him, his old habits grew; and one of them, gazingand longing for that one bright star, resumed its old force, so thatnight after night he would be found with his eyes upturned; but thetears would dim them, when he thought of the days, when, at hispleasure, he could have reached its golden gates; but now he was shutout, and each day he grew sadder and sadder as he contemplated itsundimmed splendor.
One day his grandchild ran to him and cried, “O! grandpa, see what Ihave found, while searching among the lumber in the attic!” The old mantook from the hands of the wondering boy, a little pair of black andtarnished wings; he knew at once the angel’s gift to his boyhood, andthe tears flowed down his furrowed cheeks. He took the child on hisknee, and told him all about the bright star, the angel, and the silverwings, which his careless idleness had suffered to grow dim till theylost forever their power. The child heard and believed--wept, as hisgrandsire wept--and after the tale had ceased, he paused awhile--yetpresently exclaimed, “But can these wings never again be made as bright!O let us try together, and see if they may not shine as before!”
A bright change came upon the face of the old man, and with histrembling hands, assisted by those of the child, (both feeble, yet bothuntiring,) commenced the work. Very slow, indeed was the progress theymade in removing the rust that years had accumulated; but at length, bylittle and little, the pale silver shone amid the blackness, till onenight, after long and patient labor, the child, with joyous shouts andgladness, and the old man with a calm, placid smile amid his tears,announced that “the work was completed.” Calmly he folded and laid awaythe polished wings, but at midnight, when the child and all thehousehold were hushed and silent, the tottering old man stood in theplace, (with his silver wings,) where years before he had stood, withhis eyes now, as then, raised to the star; he stretched his arms towardit and mounted up, till on entering the golden gates, they closed behindhim. The star was his resting-place forever.
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