The Louisa Alcott Reader Part 9
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One day, as she was resting by a river, she saw a tiny fish on the bank, nearly dead for want of water.
"Poor thing! go and be happy again," she said, softly taking him up, and dropping him into the nice cool river.
"Thank you, dear child; I'll not forget, but will help you some day,"
said the fish, when he had taken a good drink, and felt better.
"Why, how can a tiny fish help such a great girl as I am?" laughed Rosy.
"Wait and see," answered the fish, as he swam away with a flap of his little tail.
Rosy went on her way, and forgot all about it. But she never forgot to be kind; and soon after, as she was looking in the gra.s.s for strawberries, she found a field-mouse with a broken leg.
"Help me to my nest, or my babies will starve," cried the poor thing.
"Yes, I will; and bring these berries so that you can keep still till your leg is better, and have something to eat."
Rosy took the mouse carefully in her little hand, and tied up the broken leg with a leaf of spearmint and a blade of gra.s.s. Then she carried her to the nest under the roots of an old tree, where four baby mice were squeaking sadly for their mother. She made a bed of thistledown for the sick mouse, and put close within reach all the berries and seeds she could find, and brought an acorn-cup of water from the spring, so they could be comfortable.
"Good little Rosy, I shall pay you for all this kindness some day," said the mouse, when she was done.
"I'm afraid you are not big enough to do much," answered Rosy, as she ran off to go on her journey.
"Wait and see," called the mouse; and all the little ones squeaked, as if they said the same.
Some time after, as Rosy lay up in a tree, waiting for the sun to rise, she heard a great buzzing close by, and saw a fly caught in a cobweb that went from one twig to another. The big spider was trying to spin him all up, and the poor fly was struggling to get away before his legs and wings were helpless.
Rosy put up her finger and pulled down the web, and the spider ran away at once to hide under the leaves. But the happy fly sat on Rosy's hand, cleaning his wings, and buzzing so loud for joy that it sounded like a little trumpet.
"You've saved my life, and I'll save yours, if I can," said the fly, twinkling his bright eye at Rosy.
"You silly thing, you can't help me," answered Rosy, climbing down, while the fly buzzed away, saying, like the mouse and fish,--
"Wait and see; wait and see."
Rosy trudged on and on, till at last she came to the sea. The mountains were on the other side; but how should she get over the wide water? No s.h.i.+ps were there, and she had no money to hire one if there had been any; so she sat on the sh.o.r.e, very tired and sad, and cried a few big tears as salt as the sea.
"Hullo!" called a bubbly sort of voice close by; and the fish popped up his head. Rosy ran to see what he wanted.
"I've come to help you over the water," said the fish.
"How can you, when I want a s.h.i.+p, and some one to show me the way?"
answered Rosy.
"I shall just call my friend the whale, and he will take you over better than a s.h.i.+p, because he won't get wrecked. Don't mind if he spouts and flounces about a good deal, he is only playing; so you needn't be frightened."
Down dived the little fish, and Rosy waited to see what would happen; for she didn't believe such a tiny thing could really bring a whale to help her.
Presently what looked like a small island came floating through the sea; and turning round, so that its tail touched the sh.o.r.e, the whale said, in a roaring voice that made her jump,--
"Come aboard, little girl, and hold on tight. I'll carry you wherever you like."
It was rather a slippery bridge, and Rosy was rather scared at this big, strange boat; but she got safely over, and held on fast; then, with a roll and a plunge, off went the whale, spouting two fountains, while his tail steered him like the rudder of a s.h.i.+p.
Rosy liked it, and looked down into the deep sea, where all sorts of queer and lovely things were to be seen. Great fishes came and looked at her; dolphins played near to amuse her; the pretty nautilus sailed by in its transparent boat; and porpoises made her laugh with their rough play. Mermaids brought her pearls and red coral to wear, sea-apples to eat, and at night sung her to sleep with their sweet lullabies.
So she had a very pleasant voyage, and ran on sh.o.r.e with many thanks to the good whale, who gave a splendid spout, and swam away.
Then Rosy travelled along till she came to a desert. Hundreds of miles of hot sand, with no trees or brooks or houses.
"I never can go that way," she said; "I should starve, and soon be worn out walking in that hot sand. What _shall_ I do?"
"Quee, quee!
Wait and see: You were good to me; So here I come, From my little home, To help you willingly,"
said a friendly voice; and there was the mouse, looking at her with its bright eyes full of grat.i.tude.
"Why, you dear little thing, I'm very glad to see you; but I'm sure you can't help me across this desert," said Rosy, stroking its soft back.
"That's easy enough," answered the mouse, rubbing its paws briskly.
"I'll just call my friend the lion; he lives here, and he'll take you across with pleasure."
"Oh, I'm afraid he'd rather eat me. How dare you call that fierce beast?" cried Rosy, much surprised.
"I gnawed him out of a net once, and he promised to help me. He is a n.o.ble animal, and he will keep his word."
Then the mouse sang, in its shrill little voice,--
"O lion, grand, Come over the sand, And help me now, I pray!
Here's a little la.s.s, Who wants to pa.s.s; Please carry her on her way."
In a moment a loud roar was heard, and a splendid yellow lion, with fiery eyes and a long mane, came bounding over the sand to meet them.
"What can I do for you, tiny friend?" he said, looking at the mouse, who was not a bit frightened, though Rosy hid behind a rock, expecting every moment to be eaten.
Mousie told him, and the good lion said pleasantly,--
"I'll take the child along. Come on, my dear; sit on my back and hold fast to my mane, for I'm a swift horse, and you might fall off."
Then he crouched down like a great cat, and Rosy climbed up, for he was so kind she could not fear him; and away they went, racing over the sand till her hair whistled in the wind. As soon as she got her breath, she thought it great fun to go flying along, while other lions and tigers rolled their fierce eyes at her, but dared not touch her; for this lion was king of all, and she was quite safe. They met a train of camels with loads on their backs; and the people travelling with them wondered what queer thing was riding that fine lion. It looked like a very large monkey in a red cloak, but went so fast they never saw that it was a little girl.
"How glad I am that I was kind to the mouse; for if the good little creature had not helped me, I never could have crossed this desert,"
said Rosy, as the lion walked awhile to rest himself.
"And if the mouse had not gnawed me out of the net I never should have come at her call. You see, little people can conquer big ones, and make them gentle and friendly by kindness," answered the lion.
Then away they went again, faster than ever, till they came to the green country. Rosy thanked the good beast, and he ran back, for if any one saw him, they would try to catch him.
"Now I have only to climb up these mountains and find father," thought Rosy, as she saw the great hills before her, with many steep roads winding up to the top, and far, far away rose the smoke from the huts where the men lived and dug for gold. She started off bravely, but took the wrong road, and after climbing a long while found the path ended in rocks over which she could not go. She was very tired and hungry; for her food was gone, and there were no houses in this wild place. Night was coming on, and it was so cold she was afraid she would freeze before morning, but dared not go on lest she should fall down some steep hole and be killed. Much discouraged, she lay down on the moss and cried a little; then she tried to sleep, but something kept buzzing in her ear, and looking carefully she saw a fly prancing about on the moss, as if anxious to make her listen to his song,--
The Louisa Alcott Reader Part 9
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The Louisa Alcott Reader Part 9 summary
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