Adventures of Prince Lazybones, and Other Stories

by Mrs. Molesworth

  CHAPTER I

  It had been a hard, cold, cruel winter, and one that just suited oldFrozen Nose, the Storm King, whose palace of ice was on the north shoreof the Polar Sea. He had ordered Rain, Hail, and Snow, his slaves, toaccompany Lord Boreas Bluster on an invasion of the temperate zone, andwhen they had done his bidding he harnessed up his four-in-hand team ofpolar bears and went as far south as he dared, just to see how well theyhad obeyed him. How he roared with laughter when he found nearly allvegetation killed, and the earth wrapped in a white mantle as thick ashis own bear-skins piled six feet deep! There was no nonsense about thatsort of work.

  "Catch any pert, saucy little flowers sticking up their heads throughsuch a blanket!" said Frozen Nose to himself. "No, no; I've fixed 'emfor a few years, anyhow. They're dead as door-nails, and Spring with allher airs and graces will never bring them to life again. Ugh! how I hate'em and all sweet smells! Wish I might never have anything but whale-oilon my hair and handkerchiefs for the rest of my life!"

  "There's no fear but what you will, and stale at that," said the ugliestof his children, young Chilblain, giving his father's big toe a tweak ashe passed, and grinning when he heard Frozen Nose grumble out,

  "There's the gout again, I do believe!"

  But Boreas Bluster, coming in just then, saw what was going on, and gaveChilblain a whack that sent him spinning out of the room.

  To tell the truth, Boreas was not as hardhearted as he looked. He wasthe most honest and straightforward of all Frozen Nose's friends. To besure, he had to obey stern commands, and do many things that required ashow of fierceness, but in the course of his travels he often yielded toa kind impulse, and restrained his fury when to indulge it would havepleased old Frozen Nose mightily.

  This very day he had met with a strange adventure, which had been theoccasion of a hasty return to the palace, and had so stirred his heartthat the whack he gave young Chilblain was but the safety-valve to hisfeelings--a sort of letting off of steam which otherwise might haveexploded and burst every block of ice in the realm.

  In the many furious storms which had occurred of late Boreas had seenthe destruction of numerous forests, and had even assisted in layingwaste the country. But one night an avalanche had buried a hamlet fromwhich only one living soul had escaped, and that was a young child--amere sprig of a girl, with hair like the flax and eyes like its flowers,a little, timid, crying child--whom B.B. had actually taken in his armsand carried all the way out of the woods, over the mountains, andfinally into Frozen Nose's own palace by the Polar Sea.

  Never had such a thing happened before. Never had the tones of a child'svoice pierced his dull ears, and made that big sledge-hammer of a heartpositively ache with its throbs. It was a new and even a dangerousfeeling; for though he made young Chilblain's impertinence the pretextof an outburst, he might just as readily have given a cuff to thehoary-headed Prime-minister, Sir Solomon Snow-Ball--and then there wouldhave been a revolution. But happily for the peace of the Polar Seapalace, B.B. was satisfied with Chilblain's howl of rage, and in anothermoment had sunk down into his favorite arm-chair of twisted walrustusks, and was lost in thought.

  It was a curious scene, these three old men half asleep in theirbear-skins, smoking long pipes of smouldering sea-weed. No fire dancedon the hearth, no lamp shed its lustre, but the moon's pale beamsgleamed on the glittering walls and lit the ice-crystals with its silverrays. B.B.'s thoughts seemed to be of a troublesome nature, for hesighed heavily, almost creating a whirlwind, and at last, lookingcautiously at his companions, and seeing they were asleep, he rose andwent softly from the room. In the hall was a huge pile of furs, amongwhich B.B. gently pushed until he found the object of his search, which,lifting carefully, he bound about him with thongs of reindeer hide. Thenpulling on his immense snow-shoes, and drawing his cap closely abouthis ears, he went out into the night.

  B.B. was aware that it would be impossible for him to keep his littleFlax-Flower any longer in Frozen Nose's dominions; indeed, he had onlyhidden her in the hall until he could decide what course to pursue, forhe knew only too well that Chilblain, in seeking revenge, would be sureto discover his secret, and do all he could to injure him. Personally hehad little to fear, but the punishment for mortals entering FrozenNose's realm was death, and Flax-Flower was mortal.

  With the speed for which he was so celebrated, Boreas slid over theground in a southerly direction, never stopping until he had come uponwhat seemed to be a river which led down to a dark forest of pine-trees.

  He was now at least three thousand miles from the Storm King's palace,and could afford to rest Wiping his brow, and panting still with hisrecent efforts, Boreas drew a corner of the bundle of furs away from theface of Flax-Flower, and looked at the sleeping child. As he did so athrill of tenderness made him long to kiss her, but he knew that hisrough caress would chill her with fear. So, softly wrapping her upagain, he plunged into the pine forest. Stopping again when in themiddle of it, he gave a shrill whistle, which was responded to by onefainter and farther away, and presently a dwarf in the garb of anEsquimau emerged from the dusky gloom, and bending low, said,

  "What will you, my master?"

  "I would see thy lord, the good St. Nicholas--the Storm King's enemy. Ishe at home?"

  "He is at home, but he is no man's enemy. What message shall I bearhim?"

  "Tell him that Boreas, of the Frozen Noses, awaits him." The dwarfvanished, and returned.

  "My lord bids thee enter, but entreats thee to be gentle, and rememberthe manners of his court."

  "That was a needless charge, considering my errand. Never has my moodbeen more peaceful. But it strikes me as passing strange thus to dictateterms to one of my station," responded Boreas, proudly.

  "Pardon," answered the dwarf, "but we are no sticklers for ceremony, andrecognize no rank save goodness. Follow me if it be thy wish to enter."

  Pushing aside the heavy boughs on which the snow lay in icy masses thatrattled and clashed like bolts and bars, he uncovered a low-archedopening into what seemed a vast snow-bank. Through this tunnel he andBoreas made their way to a broad court, which was as airy as asoap-bubble, round in shape, with pillars and dome of glass, throughwhich streamed rays of light softer than sunshine and brighter thanmoonbeams.

  From this court a broad, low stairway led to another apartment, whichwas as free from any show or splendor as the kitchen of a farm-house,and, indeed, in its suggestion of homely comfort and hospitality it wasnot unlike that cheery place. A Saxon motto, meaning "Welcome to thosewho hunger," was carved in the wooden frame of the fireplace. The floorwas sanded, the tables and chairs were of oak, blackened by age, as werealso the timbers of the ceiling, and cut and carved with curiousdevices.

  On a big settle by the fire sat an old man, whose twinkling eyes couldbut just see through the shaggy and snowy brows which overhung them,and whose white beard fell in a flowing mass upon his breast. What couldbe seen of his face bore a kind expression.

  "Ho, ho, old Bluster!" he cried, in a clear and merry voice, drawing upand around him the sheepskin mantle which was beside him, "what newfreak is this of yours to enter our peaceful dwelling? Methought youwere so sworn to do the Storm King's bidding that no power other thanhis rough sway could compel your presence. Come you on your own accountor on his? Be it either, you are free to partake of our bounty. Ho,there, Merrythought! heave on more logs and heat the poker, that we maythrust it fizzing into our tankards: 'tis always bitter cold when Boreasis abroad."

  The dwarf skipped quickly to his task, assisted by a dozen others, andBoreas, unstrapping his bundle, drew little Flax-Flower, still sleeping,from the furs.

  "Mine is a strange errand, good Claus--so strange, that I hardly knowmyself to be myself. Rough and stormy as I am ever, a child's misery hasmade me once gentle. You know my mad career, my furious passions, andthat they indeed are the strength of the Storm King's realm. Too well Iknew that I should be but the sport of mocking derision if I appealed tohis mercy in behalf of this sufferin
g child. Mercy, did I say? He knowsnone. Death alone could have met this little creature, whose cries havearoused within me the deepest feelings I have ever known. To be honest,I have not always been the fierce being I appear. Many and many a time,unknown to you, I have followed you on your errands of love and pity,and watched with admiration the course you have pursued. This hasinduced me now to come and ask your favor for my treasure. Wake, littleFlax-Flower, wake!" he continued, gently kissing the child's eyes, who,so stirred, rubbed her sleepy lids with rosy little fists, and lookedaround in astonishment.

  "Ha!" said the good St. Nicholas; "this is indeed a strange story foryou to tell, friend Bluster. Ho, there, Merrythought! send for Mrs.Christmas, my house-keeper. The child may be frightened at our grimfaces. But what a pretty little dear it is!" said Claus, in the kindesttones, putting out his big fat hand to caress her. To Boreas's surpriseFlax-Flower did not shrink from his salute, but with a bright smilebounded into the old man's arms and kissed him.

  Turning away with a pang of jealousy, Boreas muttered, "She wouldn'tkiss _me_; but no matter. That settles it. She's in the right place, andI'll leave her. Farewell, Claus; I'm off. No, no; I've no time foreating and drinking. Frozen Nose will be thundering at my absencealready. There's a storm brewing even now; I feel it in my bones." Sosaying, he tramped noisily out of the apartment, nearly knocking over afleshy dame in ruffled cap and whitest apron, whose rosy cheeks werelike winter apples, and who bore in her hands a huge mince-pie in whichwas stuck a sprig of mistletoe.