Aunt Jo's Scrap-Bag VI Part 10

"Mercy, me! where are they?" cried Daisy, looking very curious and rather frightened.

"There is one of them." And Wee pointed to the waterfall that went das.h.i.+ng and foaming down into the valley. "That giant turns the wheels of all the mills you see. Some of them grind grain for our bread, some help to spin cloth for our clothes, some make paper, and others saw trees into boards. That is a beautiful and busy giant, Daisy."

"So it is, and some day we'll go and see it work. Show me the others: I like your giants 'most as well as those in the fairy-books."

"On this side you'll see another, called Steam. He is a very strong fellow; for, with the help of gunpowder, he will break the granite mountain in pieces, and carry it away. He works in the other mills, and takes heavy loads of stone, cloth, paper, and wood all over the country.

Then, on the right of us is a third giant, called Electricity. He runs along those wires, and carries messages from one end of the world to the other. He goes under the sea and through the air; he brings news to every one; runs day and night, yet never tires; and often helps sick people with his lively magic."

"I like him best, I think; for he is more like a real, wonderful giant.

Is there any on that side of us?" asked Daisy, turning round to look behind her.

"Yes: the best and most powerful of all lives in that big house with the bell on the roof," said Wee, smiling.

"Why, that's only the schoolhouse."

"Education is a long word, dear; but you know what it means, and, as you grow older, you will see what wonders it can work. It is a n.o.ble giant; for in this country rich and poor are helped by it, and no one need suffer for it unless they choose. It works more wonders than any other: it changes little children into wise, good men and women, who rule the world, and make happy homes everywhere; it helps write books, sing songs, paint pictures, do good deeds, and beautify the world. Love and respect it, my little Daisy, and be glad that you live now when such giants lend a hand to dwarfs like us."

Daisy sat still a long time, looking all about her on the mountain-top; and, when she rode away, she carried a new thought in her mind, which she never forgot.

"This is the last day of the seven, and no fairies have been found. Do you think I _ever_ shall see one?" said Daisy, on the Sunday morning that ended her week's hunt.

"Not the kind you think of, for there are none such, Daisy; but you have found two better and more beautiful ones than any fanciful sprites,"

said Wee.

"Have I? Where are they? What are their names?"

Aunt Wee drew her to the gla.s.s, and said, as she pointed to Daisy's face:

"Here they are, and their names are Health and Happiness. There are many ways of losing them, and they are hard to catch when once lost. I wanted you to keep both, and tried to show you how. A happy, healthful hour in the morning sweetens and brightens the whole day; and there is no fairy-book half so wonderful as the lovely world all about us, if we only know how to read it."

"Then all these mornings we were hunting after health and happiness, instead of fairies, were we?"

"Yes: haven't you enjoyed it, and don't you think you have caught my fairies?"

Daisy looked from a little picture of herself, which Wee had drawn some time ago, to her image in the gla.s.s. One was dull and sad, pale and cross; the other, rosy, gay, and smiling,--the likeness of a happy, hearty little girl, wide-awake and in good tune. She understood the kind joke; and, turning, kissed Aunt Wee, as she said, gratefully:

"I think I have caught your elves, and I'll try to keep them all my life. But tell me one thing: was the music that woke me all a joke too?"

"No, dear: here it is, and now it is your own; for you have learned to wake and listen to it."

Daisy looked, and saw Aunt Wee lean from the window, and take out of a hollow nook, in the old tree close by, a little box. She set it on the table, touched a spring, and the airy music sounded more beautiful than ever.

"Is it mine, all mine?" cried Daisy.

"Yes: I hid it while I tried my little plan, and now you shall have it for your own. See, here is the best elf I can give you, and she will dance whenever you call her."

Wee pushed a golden pin, and up sprang a tiny figure, all crimson and gold, with s.h.i.+ning wings, and a garland on its dainty head. Softly played the hidden music, and airily danced the little sylph till the silvery chime died away; then, folding her delicate arms, she sank from sight, leaving Daisy breathless with delight.

V.

SHADOW-CHILDREN.

Ned, Polly, and Will sat on the steps one sun-s.h.i.+ny morning, doing nothing, except wish they had something pleasant to do.

"Something new, something never heard of before,--wouldn't that be jolly?" said Ned, with a great yawn.

"It must be an amusing play, and one that we don't get tired of very soon," added Polly gravely.

"And something that didn't be wrong, else mamma wouldn't like it," said little Will, who was very good for a small boy.

As no one could suggest any thing to suit, they all sat silent a few minutes. Suddenly Ned said, rather crossly, "I wish my shadow wouldn't mock me. Every time I stretch or gape it does the same, and I don't like it."

"Poor thing, it can't help that: it has to do just what you do, and be your slave all day. I'm glad I ain't a shadow," said Polly.

"I try to run away from mine sometimes, but I can't ever. It will come after me; and in the night it scares me, if it gets big and black," said Will, looking behind him.

"Wouldn't it be fun to see shadows going about alone, and doing things like people?" asked Polly.

"I just wish they would. I'd like to see ours cut capers; that would be a jolly new game, wouldn't it?" said Ned.

No one had time to speak; for suddenly the three little shadows on the sunny wall behind them stood up straight, and began to bow.

"Mercy, me!" cried Polly, staring at them.

"By Jove, that's odd!" said Ned, looking queer.

"Are they alive?" asked Will, a little frightened.

"Don't be alarmed: they won't hurt you," said a soft voice. "To-day is midsummer-day, and whoever wishes a wish can have it till midnight. You want to see your shadows by themselves; and you can, if you promise to follow them as they have followed you so long. They will not get you into harm; so you may safely try it, if you like. Do you agree for the day to do as they do, and so have your wish?"

"Yes, we promise," answered the children.

"Tell no one till night, and be faithful shadows to the shadows."

The voice was silent, but with more funny little bows the shadows began to move off in different directions. The children knew their own: for Ned's was the tallest, and had its hands in its pockets; Polly's had a frock on, and two bows where its hair was tied up; while Will's was a plump little shadow in a blouse, with a curly head and a pug nose. Each child went after its shadow, laughing, and enjoying the fun.

Ned's master went straight to the shed, took down a basket, and marched away to the garden, where it began to move its hands as if busily picking peas. Ned stopped laughing when he saw that, and looked rather ashamed; for he remembered that his mother had asked him to do that little job for her, and he had answered,--

"Oh, bother the old peas! I'm busy, and I can't."

"Who told you about this?" he asked, beginning to work.

The shadow shook its head, and pointed first to Ned's new jacket, then to a set of nice garden tools near by, and then seemed to blow a kiss from its shadowy fingers towards mamma, who was just pa.s.sing the open gate.