A fairy came to his bedside, it was Fairy Old Boy, the friend of the people. “Ah, my poor Wang,” said the fairy, “all this trouble you have brought upon yourself by your shiftless, lazy habits. When others work, why do you lie down and sleep your time away? Why don’t you get up and shake your lazy legs? There is no place in the world for such a man as you except the pig-sty.”
“I know you are telling the truth,” wailed Wang, “but how, oh, how can I ever work with all these feathers sticking out of me? They will kill me! They will kill me!”
“Hear the man!” laughed Old Boy. “Now, if you were a hopeful, happy fellow, you would say, ‘What a stroke of luck! No need to buy garments. The gods have given me a suit of clothes that will never wear out.’ You are a pretty fellow to be complaining, aren’t you?”
After joking in this way for a little while, the good fairy changed his tone of voice and said, “Now, Wang, are you really sorry for the way you have lived, sorry for your years of idleness, sorry because you disgraced your old Father and Mother? I hear your parents died of hunger because you would not help them.”
Wang, seeing that Old Boy knew all about his past life, and, feeling his pain growing worse and worse every minute, cried out at last: “Yes! Yes! I will do anything you say. Only, I pray you, free me of these feathers!”
“I wouldn’t have your feathers,” said Old Boy, “and I cannot free you of them. You will have to do the whole thing yourself. What you need is to hear a good scolding. Go and get Mr Lin, the owner of the stolen duck, to scold freely. The harder he scolds, the sooner will your feathers drop out.”
Mr Wang woke up very happy. He would go to Mr Lin, confess everything and take the scolding. Then he would be free of his feathers and would go to work. Truly he had led a lazy life. What the good Fairy Old Boy had said about his father and mother had hurt him very badly, for he knew that every word was true. From this day on, he would not be lazy. He would take a wife and become the father of a family.
Miser Wang meant all right when he started out from his shanty. From his little hoard of money he took enough cash to pay Mr Lin for the stolen duck. He would do everything the fairy had told him and even more. But this doing more was just where he got into trouble. As he walked along the road jingling the string of cash, and thinking that he must soon give it up to his neighbour, he grew very sad. He loved every copper of his money and he disliked to part with it. After all, Old Boy had not told him he must confess to the owner of the duck – he had said he must go to Lin and get Lin to give a good scolding. “Old Boy did not say that Lin must scold me,” thought the miser. “All that I need do is to get him to scold, and then my feathers will drop off and I shall be happy. Why not tell him that old Sen stole his duck, and get him to give Sen a scolding? That will surely do just as well, and I shall save my money as well as my face. I shall fool Fairy Old Boy too. Really he had no right to speak of my father and mother in the way he did. After all, they died of fever, and I was no doctor to cure them. How could he say it was my fault?”
The longer Wang talked to himself, the surer he became that it was useless to tell Lin that he had stolen the duck. By the time he had reached the duck man’s house he had fully made up his mind to deceive him. Mr Lin invited him to come in and sit down. He was a plain-spoken, honest kind of man, this Lin. Everybody liked him, for he never spoke ill of any man and he always had something good to say of his neighbours.
“Well, what’s your business, Wang? You have come out early, and it’s a long walk from your place to mine.”
“Oh, I had something important I wanted to talk to you about,” began Wang slyly. “That’s a fine flock of ducks you have over in the meadow.”
“Yes,” said Mr Lin smiling, “a fine flock indeed.” But he said nothing of the stolen fowl.
“How many have you?” questioned Wang more boldly.
“I counted them yesterday morning and there were fifteen.”
“But did you count them again last night?”
“Yes, I did,” answered Lin slowly.
“And there were only fourteen then?”
“Quite right, Wang, one of them was missing, but one duck is of little importance. Why do you speak of it?” “What, no importance! Losing a duck? How can you say so? A duck’s a duck, isn’t it, and surely you would like to know how you lost it?”
“A hawk most likely.”
“No, it wasn’t a hawk, but if you would go and look in old Sen’s duck yard, you would likely find feathers.”
“Nothing more natural, I am sure, in a duck yard.”
“Yes, but your duck’s feathers,” persisted Wang.
“What! You think old Sen is a thief, do you, and that he has been stealing from me?”
“Exactly! You have it now.”
“Well, well, that is too bad! I am sorry the old fellow is having such a hard time. He is a good worker and deserves better luck. I should willingly have given him the duck if he had only asked for it. Too bad that he had to steal it.”
Wang waited to see how Mr Lin planned to punish the thief, feeling sure that the least he could do, would be to go and give him a good scolding.
But nothing of the kind happened. Instead of growing angry, Mr Lin seemed to be sorry for Sen, sorry that he was poor, sorry that he was willing to steal.
“Aren’t you even going to give him a scolding?” asked Wang in disgust.
“What use, what use? Hurt a neighbour’s feelings just for a duck? That would be foolish indeed.”
By this time the Miser King had begun to feel an itching all over his body. The feathers had begun hurting again, and he was frightened once more. He became excited and threw himself on the floor in front of Mr Lin.
“Hey! What’s the matter, man?” cried Lin, thinking Wang was in a fit. “What’s the matter? Are you ill?”
“Yes, very ill,” wailed Wang. “Mr Lin, I’m a bad man, and I may as well own it at once and be done with it. There is no use trying to dodge the truth or hide a fault. I stole your duck last night, and today I came sneaking over here and tried to put the thing off on old Sen.”
“Yes, I knew it,” answered Lin. “I saw you carrying the duck off under your garment. Why did you come to see me at all if you thought I did not know you were guilty?”
“Only wait, and I’ll tell you everything,” said Wang, bowing still lower. “After I had boiled your duck and eaten it, I went to bed. Pretty soon I felt an itching all over my body. I could not sleep and in the morning I found that I had a thick growth of duck’s feathers from head to foot. The more I pulled them out, the thicker they grew in. I could hardly keep from screaming. I took to my bed, and after I had tossed about for hours a fairy came and told me that I could never get rid of my trouble unless I got you to give me a thorough scolding. Here is the money for your duck. Now for the love of mercy, scold, and do it quickly, for I can’t stand the pain much longer.”
Wang was grovelling in the dirt at Lin’s feet, but Lin answered him only with a loud laugh which finally burst into a roar. “Duck feathers! Ha! Ha! Ha! and all over your body? Why, that’s too good a story to believe! You’ll be wanting to live in the water next. Ha! Ha! Ha!”
“Scold me! Scold me!” begged Wang, “For the love of the gods scold me!”
But Lin only laughed the louder. “Pray let me see this wonderful growth of feathers first, and then we’ll talk about the scolding.”
Wang willingly opened his garment and showed the doubting Lin that he had been really speaking the truth.
“They must be warm,” said Lin, laughing. “Winter is soon coming and you are not over fond of work. Won’t they save you the trouble of wearing clothing?”
“But they make me itch so I can scarcely stand it! I feel like screaming out, the pain is so great,”
“Be calm, my friend, and give me time to think of some good scold-words,” said Lin at last. “I am not in the habit of using strong language, and very seldom lose my temper. Really you must give me time to thin
k of what to say.”
By this time Wang was in such pain that he lost all power over himself. He seized Mr Lin by the legs crying out, “Scold me! Scold me!”
Mr Lin was now out of patience with his visitor. Besides Wang was holding him so tightly that it really felt as if Lin were being pinched by some gigantic crawfish. Suddenly Lin could hold his tongue no longer:
“You lazy hound! You whelp! You turtle! You lazy, good-for-nothing creature! I wish you would hurry up and roll out of this!”
Now, in China, this is very strong language, and, with a cry of joy, Wang leaped from the ground, for he knew that Lin had scolded him. No sooner had the first hasty words been spoken than the feathers began falling from the lazy man’s body, and, at last, the dreadful itching had entirely stopped. On the floor in front of Lin lay a great pile of feathers, and Wang, freed from his trouble, said, “Thank you kindly, my dear friend, for the pretty names you have called me. You have saved my life, I have learned my lesson well, I hope, and I shall go out from here a better man. Fairy Old Boy told me that I was lazy. You agree with the fairy. From this day, however, you shall see that I can bend my back like a good fellow. Goodbye, and many thanks for your kindness.”
So saying, with many low bows and polite words, Wang left the duck owner’s house, a happier and a wiser man.
Sweet-One-Darling and the Dream-Fairies
By Eugene Field
READING TIME: 8 MINUTES
Awonderful thing happened one night. Sweet-One-Darling was lying in her cradle, and she was trying to make up her mind whether she should go to sleep or keep awake. Sweet-One-Darling was ready for sleep and dreams. She had on her nightgown and her nightcap, and her mother had kissed her goodnight. But the day had been so very pleasant, with its sunshine and its play, that Sweet-One-Darling was unwilling to give it up. It was high time for the little girl to be asleep. A cricket was chirping, and some folk believe that the cricket is in league with the Dream-Fairies. They say that what sounds to us like a faint chirping is actually the call of the cricket to the Dream-Fairies to let those creatures know that it is time for them to come with their dreams. I more than half believe this myself, for I have noticed that it is while the cricket is chirping that the Dream-Fairies come with their wonderful sights that seem oftentimes very real.
Then, all of a sudden, there was a faint sound as of the rustle of gossamer, silken wings, and the next moment two of the sweetest fairies you ever saw were standing upon the windowsill, just over the honeysuckle.
They had come from Somewhere, and it was evident that they were searching for somebody, for they peered cautiously and eagerly into the room. One was dressed in a bright yellow suit of butterfly silk and the other wore a suit of dark-grey mothzine, which (as perhaps you know) is a dainty fabric made of the fine strands which grey moths spin. Both of these fairies together would not have weighed much more than the one-sixteenth part of four dewdrops.
“Sweet-One-Darling! Oh, Sweet-One-Darling!” they cried softly. “Where are you?”
Sweet-One-Darling pretended that she did not hear, and she cuddled down close in her cradle and laughed, all to herself. The mischievous little thing knew well enough whom they were calling but she meant to fool them and hide from them awhile – that is why she did not answer. But nobody can hide from the Dream-Fairies, and least of all could Sweet-One-Darling hide from them, for presently her laughter betrayed her and the two Dream-Fairies perched on her cradle – one at each side – and looked smilingly down upon her.
“Hello!” said Sweet-One-Darling.
This was the first time I had ever heard her speak, and I did not know till then that even wee little babies talk with fairies, particularly Dream-Fairies.
“Hello, Sweet-One-Darling!” said Gleam-of-the-Dark, for that was the name of the Dream-Fairy in the dark-grey mothzine.
“And hello from me, too!” cried Frisk-and-Glitter, the other visitor – the one in the butterfly-silk suit.
“You have come earlier than usual,” suggested Sweet-One-Darling.
“No, indeed,” answered Frisk-and-Glitter, “But the day has been so happy that it has passed quickly. For that reason you should be glad to see me, for I bring dreams of the day – the beautiful golden day, with its sunlight, its grace of warmth, and its mirth and play.”
“And I,” said Gleam-o,-the-Dark, “I bring dreams, too. But my dreams are of the night, and they are full of the gentle, soothing music of the winds, of the pines, and of the crickets! And they are full of fair visions in which you shall see the things of Fairyland and of Dreamland and of all the mysterious countries that compose the vast world of Somewhere away out beyond the silvery mist of night.”
“Oh!” cried Sweet-One-Darling. “I should never be able to make a choice between you two. I would love to have the play of the daytime brought back to me, and I am quite as sure that I want to see all the pretty sights that are unfolded by the dreams which Gleam-of-the-Dark brings.”
“You have no need to feel troubled,” said Frisk-and-Glitter, “for you are not expected to make any choice between us. We have our own way of solving the question, as you shall presently understand.”
Then the Dream-Fairies explained that whenever they came of an evening to bring their dreams to a little child they seated themselves on the child’s eyelids and tried to rock them down. Gleam-of-the-Dark would sit and rock upon one eyelid and Frisk-and-Glitter would sit and rock on the other. If Gleam-of-the-Dark’s eyelid closed first, the child would dream the dreams Gleam-of-the-Dark brought it. If Frisk-and-Glitter’s eyelid closed first, why, then, of course, the child dreamt the dreams Frisk-and-Glitter brought.
“But suppose,” suggested Sweet-One-Darling, “suppose both eyelids close at the same instant? Which one of you fairies has his own way, then?”
“Ah, in that event,” said they, “neither of us wins, and, since neither wins, the sleeper does not dream at all, but awakes next morning from a sound, dreamless, refreshing sleep.”
Sweet-One-Darling was not sure that she fancied this alternative, but of course she could not help herself. So she let the two little Dream-Fairies flutter across her shoulders and clamber up her cheeks to their proper places upon her eyelids.
Gracious! How heavy they seemed when they stood on her eyelids! As I told you before, their actual combined weight hardly exceeded the sixteenth part of four dewdrops, yet when they are perched on a little child’s eyelids (tired eyelids at that) it really seems sometimes as if they weighed a tonne! It was just all she could do to keep her eyelids open, yet Sweet-One-Darling was determined to be strictly fair. She loved both the Dream-Fairies equally well, and she would not for all the world have shown either one any favouritism.
Well, there the two Dream-Fairies sat on Sweet-One-Darling’s eyelids, each one trying to rock his particular eyelid down, and each one sung his little lullaby in the pipingest voice imaginable. This was very soothing, as you would suppose. It was the most exciting contest (for an amicable one) I ever saw. As for Sweet-One-Darling, she seemed to be lost presently in the magic of the Dream-Fairies, and although she has never said a word about it to me I am quite sure that, while her dear eyelids drooped and drooped and drooped to the rocking and the singing of the Dream-Fairies, she enjoyed a confusion of all those precious things promised by her two fairy visitors. Yes, I am sure that from under her drooping eyelids she beheld the scenes of the day mingled with peeps of fairyland. And when at last she was fast asleep I could not say for certain which of her eyelids had closed first, so simultaneous was the downfall of her long dark lashes upon her flushed cheeks. I meant to have asked the Dream-Fairies about it, but before I could do so they whisked out of the window and away with their dreams to a very sleepy little boy who was waiting for them somewhere in the neighbourhood. So you see I am unable to tell you which of the Dream-Fairies won. Maybe neither did, maybe Sweet-One-Darling’s sleep that night was dreamless. I have questioned her about it and she will not answer me.
This i
s all the wonderful tale I had to tell. Maybe it will not seem so wonderful to you, for perhaps you, too, have felt the Dream-Fairies rocking your eyelids down with gentle lullaby music. Perhaps you, too, know all the precious dreams they bring. In that case you will bear witness that my tale, even though it be not wonderful, is strictly true.
Eva’s Visit to Fairyland
By Louisa M Alcott
READING TIME: 15 MINUTES
Down among the grass and fragrant clover lay little Eva by the brook-side, watching the bright waves, as they went singing by under the drooping flowers that grew on its banks. As she was wondering where the waters went, she heard a faint, low sound, as of far-off music. She thought it was the wind, but not a leaf was stirring, and soon through the rippling water came a strange little boat.
It was a lily of the valley, whose tall stem formed the mast, while the broad leaves that rose from the roots, and drooped again till they reached the water, were filled with fairies, who danced to the music of the silver lily-bells above that rang a merry peal, and filled the air with their fragrant breath.
On came the fairy boat till it reached a moss-grown rock, and here it stopped, while the fairies rested beneath the violet leaves, and sang with the dancing waves.
Eva looked with wonder and threw crimson fruit for the little folks to feast upon.
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