Complete Works of Howard Pyle

by Howard Pyle

  For the third had gone into the street —

  Who talked in a way of that third old maid,

  Which never would do to repeat.

  4

  And now but one

  Dame sat all alone,

  For the others were both away.

  “I’ve never yet met,” said she, with a groan,

  “Such scandalous talkers as they.”

  5

  “Alas! and alack!”

  “We’re all of a pack!

  For no matter how we walk,

  Or what folk say to our face, our back

  Is sure to breed gossip and talk.”

  H. PYLE

  A VICTIM TO SCIENCE

  Th’re were two wise physicians once, of glory and renown,

  Who went to take a little walk nigh famous Concord town.

  Oh! very, very great and wise and learned men were they,

  And wise and learned was th’r talk, as they walked on th’r way.

  And as they walked and talked and talked, they came to wh’re they found

  A Crow as black as any hat, a-sitting on ye ground.

  Ye Crow was very, very sick, as you may quickly see

  By just looking at ye picture th’t is drawn h’re by me.

  Now wh’n ye doctors came to him they mended of th’r pace,

  And said one unto ye other, “H’re’s an interesting case,

  A case th’t sh’ld be treated, and be treated speedily.

  I have — yes, here it is — a pill th’t has been made by me.

  Now, I have had occasion—” Said ye other, “In most cases

  Your pills are excellently good, but h’re, my friend, are traces

  Of a lassitude, a languor, th’t your pills c’ld hardly aid;

  In short, they’re rather violent for th’s, I am afraid.

  I have a tincture—” Said ye first, “Your tincture cannot touch

  A case as difficult as th’s, my pills are better much.”

  “Your pills, sir, are too violent.” “Your tonic is too weak.”

  “As I have said, sir, in th’s case—” “Permit me, sir, to speak.”

  And so they argued long and high, and on, and on, and on,

  Until they lost their tempers, and an hour or more had gone.

  But long before their arguments ye question did decide,

  Ye Crow, not waiting for ye end, incontinently died.

  YE MORAL

  (is apparent.)

  H. Pyle

  PLAY & EARNEST

  Over dewy hill and lea

  Merrily

  Rushed a mad-cap breeze at play,

  And the daisies, like the bright

  Stars at night,

  Danced and twinkled in its way.

  Now, a tree called to the breeze,

  “Little breeze,

  Will you come and have a play?”

  And the wind upon its way

  Stopped to play.

  Then the leaves, with sudden shiver,

  Sudden quiver,

  Met the light

  Mad-cap breeze

  With delight.

  Presently the breeze grew stronger,

  For it cared to play no longer.

  So it flung the limbs about,

  And it tossed the leaves in rout,

  Till it roared, as though with thunder.

  Then the poor tree groaned and bent,

  And the breeze, — a tempest, — rent

  Leaves and branches from its crowns

  Till, at last, it flung it down,

  Stripped, and bare, and torn asunder.

  H. Pyle

  THE ACCIDENT OF BIRTH.

  Saint Nicholas used to send, so I am told,

  All new-born babes by storks, in days of old.

  1

  King Friedrich Max of Stultzenmannenkim,

  For many years unto the Saint did pray,

  That he would send unto his Queen and him,

  A baby boy, to be the King some day.

  At last the Saint the King’s petition heard,

  And called to him a sober long-legged bird.

  2

  Quoth he, “Good Wilhelm Stork (such was its name),

  Here is a baby boy to take away.

  It is for Fritz; so bear him to the same,

  Or rather to his Queen, without delay.

  For one grows weary when one always hears

  The same words daily dinning in one’s ears.”

  3

  Now Wilhelm Stork was old, and dull of wits,

  For age not always sharpens wisdom much,

  So what does he but bear the gift to Fritz

  The cobbler, who had half a score of such.

  And so the baby, through a blunder, passed

  From being first of all, unto — ye last.

  4

  From this I gather that a new-born Prince,

  From new-born cobbler’s somewhat hard to know,

  For which of us could tell the difference, since

  One thus experienced was mistaken so?

  Also, perhaps, I should be great, instead

  Of writing thus, to earn my daily bread.

  H.P. MDCCCLXXXIII

  CLEVER PETER AND THE TWO BOTTLES

  “Yes, Peter is clever.” So said his mother; but then every goose thinks her own gosling a swan.

  The minister and all of the people of the village said Peter was but a dull block. Maybe Peter was a fool; but, as the old saying goes, never a fool tumbles out of the tree but he lights on his toes. So now you shall hear how that Peter sold his two baskets of eggs for more than you or I could do, wise as we be.

  “Peter,” said his mother.

  “Yes,” said Peter, for he was well brought up, and always answered when he was spoken to.

  “My dear little child, thou art wise, though so young now; how shall we get money to pay our rent?”

  “Sell the eggs that the speckled hen has laid,” said Peter.

  “But when we have spent the money for them, what then?”

  “Sell more eggs,” said Peter, for he had an answer for everything.

  “But when the speckled hen lays no more eggs, what shall we do then?”

  “We shall see,” said Peter.

  “Now indeed art thou wise,” said his mother, “and I take thy meaning; it is this, when we have spent all, we must do as the little birds do, and trust in the good Heaven.” Peter meant nothing of the kind, but then folks will think that such wise fellows as Peter and I mean more than we say, whence comes our wisdom.

  So the next day Peter started off to the town, with the basket full of nice white eggs. The day was bright and warm and fair; the wind blew softly, and the wheatfields lay like green velvet in the sun. The flowers were sprinkled all over the grass, and the bees kicked up their yellow legs as they tilted into them. The garlic stuck up stout spikes into the air, and the young radishes were green and lusty. The brown bird in the tree sang, “Cuckoo! cuckoo!” and Peter trudged contentedly along, kicking up little clouds of dust at every footstep, whistling merrily and staring up into the bright sky, where the white clouds hung like little sheep, feeding on the wide blue field. “If those clouds were sheep, and the sheep were mine, then I would be a great man and very proud,” said Peter. But the clouds were clouds, and he was not a great man; nevertheless, he whistled more merrily than ever, for it was very nice to think of these things.

  So he trudged along with great comfort until high noontide, against which time he had come nigh to the town, for he could see the red roofs and the tall spires peeping over the crest of the next green hill. By this time his stomach was crying, “Give! give!” for it longed for bread and cheese. Now, a great gray stone stood near by at the forking of the road, and just as Peter came to it he heard a noise. “Click! clack!” he turned his head, and, lo and behold! the side of the stone opened like a door, and out came a little old man dressed all in fine black velvet. “Good-day, Peter,” said he
. “Good-day, sir,” said Peter, and he took off his hat as he spoke, for he could see with half an eye that this little old gentleman was none of your cheese-paring fine folks.

  “Will you strike a bargain with me for your eggs?” said the little old man. Yes, Peter would strike a bargain; what would the little gentleman give him for his eggs? “I will give you this,” said the little old man, and he drew a black bottle out of his pocket.

  Peter took the bottle and turned it over and over in his hands. “It is,” said he, “a pretty little, good little, sweet little bottle, but it is not worth as much as my basket of eggs.”

  “Prut!” said the little gentleman, “now you are not talking like the wise Peter. You should never judge by the outside of things. What would you like to have?”

  “I should like,” said Peter, “to have a good dinner.”

  “Nothing easier!” said the little gentleman, and he drew the cork. Pop! pop! and what should come out of the bottle but two tall men, dressed all in blue with gold trimmings. “What will you have, sir?” said the first of these to the little gentleman.

  “A good dinner for two,” said the little man.

  No sooner said than done; for, before you could say Frederic Strutzenwillenbachen, there stood a table, with a sweet, clean, white cloth spread over it, and on this was the nicest dinner that you ever saw, for there were beer and chitterlings, and cheese and good white bread, fit for the king. Then Peter and the little man fell to with might and main, and ate till they could eat no more. After they were done, the two tall men took table and dishes and all back into the bottle again, and the little gentleman corked it up.

  “Clever Peter & the Little Gentleman in Black”

  “Yes,” said Peter, “I will give you my basket of eggs for the little black bottle.” And so the bargain was struck. Then Peter started off home, and the little man went back again into the great stone and closed the door behind him. He took the basket of eggs with him; where he took it neither Peter nor I will ever be able to tell you.

  So Peter trudged along homeward, until, after a while, the day waxing warm, he grew tired. “I wish,” said he, “that I had a fine white horse to ride.”

  Then he took the cork out of the bottle. Pop! pop! and out came the two tall fellows, just as they had done for the little old man. “What will you have, sir?” said the first of them.

  “I will have,” said Peter, “a fine white horse to ride.”

  No sooner said than done; for there, before him in the road, stood a fine white horse, with a long mane and tail, just like so much spun silk. In his mouth was a silver bit; on his back was a splendid saddle, covered all over with gold and jewels; on his feet were shoes of pure gold, so that he was a very handsome horse indeed.

  Peter mounted on his great horse and rode away home, as grand as though he were a lord or a nobleman.

  Every one whom he met stopped in the middle of the road and looked after him. “Just look at Peter!” cried they; but Peter held his chin very high, and rode along without looking at them, for he knew what a fine sight he was on his white horse.

  And so he came home again.

  “What didst thou get for thy eggs, my little duck?” said his mother.

  “I got a bottle, mother,” said Peter.

  Then at first Peter’s mother began to think as others thought, that Peter was a dull block. But when she saw what a wonderful bottle it was, and how it held many good things and one over, she changed her mind again, and thought that her Peter was as wise as the moon.

  And now nothing was lacking in the cottage; if Peter and his mother wanted this, it came to them; if they wished for that, the two tall men in the bottle fetched it. They lined the house all inside with pure gold, and built the chimneys of bricks of silver, so that there was nothing so fine between all the four great rivers. Peter dressed in satin and his mother in silk, and everybody called him “Lord Peter.” Even the minister of the village said that he was no dull boy, for nobody is dull who rides on horseback and never wears wooden shoes. So now Peter was a rich man.

  “Clever Peter rides to the King’s Palace upon his fine Horse”

  One morning Peter said to his mother, “Mother, I am going to ask the King to let me marry his daughter.”

  To this his mother said nothing, for surely her Peter was as good as any princess that ever lived.

  So off Peter rode, dressed all in his best and seated astride of a grand horse. At last he came to the palace which was finer than the handsome new house of Herr Mayor Kopff. Rap! rap! rap! Peter knocked at the door, and presently came a neat servant girl and opened it to him. “Is the King at home, my dear?” said Peter.

  Yes, the King was at home; would he come into the parlor and sit down? So Peter went into the parlor and sat down, and then the King came in, dressed all in his best dressing-gown, with silver slippers upon his feet, and a golden crown upon his head.

  “What is your name?” said the King.

  “Peter Stultzenmilchen,” said Peter.

  “And what do you want, Lord Peter,” said the King; for, as I have said, Peter was dressed in his best clothes, and the old King thought that he was a great lord.

  “I want to marry your daughter,” said Peter.

  To this the King said “Hum-m-m,” and Peter said nothing. Then the King said that he had determined that no one should marry his daughter without bringing him a basketful of diamonds, rubies, topazes, emeralds, pearls, and all manner of precious stones; for he thought by this to get rid of Peter.

  “Is that all?” said Peter. “Nothing is easier.”

  So off he went, until he came to a chestnut woods just back of the royal kitchen-garden. There he uncorked his bottle. Pop! pop! and out came the two tall men. “What will you have, sir?” said they. Peter told them what he wanted, and it was no sooner said than done; for, there on the ground before him, stood a basketful of all kinds of precious stones; each of them was as large as a hen’s egg, and over all of them was spread a nice clean white napkin. So Peter took the basket on his arm and went back again to the palace.

  But how the King did open his eyes, to be sure, and how he stared! “Now,” said Peter, “I should like to marry your daughter, if you please.”

  At this the King hemmed and hawed again. No, Peter could not marry the Princess yet, for the King had determined that no man should marry his daughter without bringing him a bird all of pure silver that could sing whenever it was wanted, and that more sweetly than a nightingale; for he thought that now he should be rid of Peter, at any rate.

  “Nothing easier,” said Peter, and off he went again.

  When he had come to the chestnut woods, he uncorked his bottle and told the two tall men what he wanted. No sooner said than done; for there was a bird all of pure silver. And not only that, but the bird sat in a little golden tree, and the leaves of the tree were emeralds, and rubies hung like cherries from the branches.

  Then Peter wrapped this up in his handkerchief and took it to the palace. As for the King, he could not look at it or listen to it enough.

  “Now,” said Peter, “I should like to marry your daughter, if you please.”

  But at this the King sang the same tune again. No, Peter could not marry his daughter yet, for the King had determined that the man who was to marry his daughter should first bring him a golden sword, so keen that it could cut a feather floating in the air, yet so strong that it could cut through an iron bar.

  “Nothing easier,” said Peter, and this time the men of the bottle brought him such a sword as he asked for, and the hilt was studded all over with precious stones, so that it was very handsome indeed. Then Peter brought it to the King, and it did as the King would have it — it cut through a feather floating in the air; as for the iron bar, it cut through that as easily as you would bite through a radish.

  “Peter Eats With the King and Princess”

  And now it seemed as though there was nothing else to be done but to let Peter marry the Princess. So the King
asked him in to supper, and they all three sat down together, the King and the Princess and Peter. And it was a fine feast, I can tell you, for they had both white and red wine, besides sausages and cheese, and real white bread and puddings, and all manner of good things; for kings and princesses eat and drink of the best.

  As for Peter, he made eyes at the Princess, and the Princess looked down on her plate and blushed, and Peter thought that he had never seen such a pretty girl.

  After a while the King began to question Peter how he came by all these fine things — the precious stones, the silver bird, and the golden sword; but no, Peter would not tell. Then the King and the Princess begged and begged him, until, at last, Peter lost his wits and told all about the bottle. Then the King said nothing more, and presently, it being nine o’clock, Peter went to bed. After he had gone the King and the Princess put their heads together, and the end of the matter was that the wicked King went to Peter’s room and stole the bottle from under the pillow where he had hidden it, and put one in its place that was as empty as a beer barrel after the soldiers have been in the town; for the King and the Princess thought that it would be a fine thing to have the bottle for themselves.

  When the next morning had come, and they were all sitting at their breakfast together, the King said, “Now, Lord Peter, let us see what your bottle will do; give us such and such a kind of wine.”

  “Nothing easier,” said Peter. Then he uncorked the bottle, but not so much as a single dead fly came out of it.

  “But where is the wine?” said the King.

  “I do not know,” said Peter.

  At this the King called him hard names and turned him out of the palace, neck and heels; so back poor Peter went to his mother with a flea in his ear, as the saying is. Now he was poor again, and everybody called him a dull block, for he rode no great white horse and he wore wooden shoes.

  “Never mind,” said his mother, “here is another basket of eggs from the speckled hen.” So Peter set off with these to the market town, as he had done with the others before. When he had come to the great stone at the forking of the road, whom should he meet but the same little gentleman he had met the first time. “Will you strike a bargain?” said he. Yes, Peter would strike a bargain, and gladly. Thereupon the little old man brought out another black bottle.