THE FAIRY AND THE FARMER.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXIX, Issue 237, 3 October 1908, Page 17

THE FAIRY AND THE FARMER.

[COMPLETE SKETCH.I

(By DION CLAYTON CALTHEOF. I A farmer stood at the door of his farm and finished his pint of ale. For lunch he had eaten a nice fat duckling, served with pease and potatoes of his own growing; three or four jam turnovers with a good helping of cream, and a piece of home-made cake. Now as he tilted up his tankard to drink the last drop of beer he saw through the glass bottom a very pleasant sight. His own fat sheep cropped the grass of the home pasture. His own fine cattle stood In a long line before him in the meadows. Here and there grunting black pigs nosed the ground. Fields, meadows, streams, little woods filled the picture, and a trim garden sparkled with colour. But he was not content. As he put down the tankard and lit his pipe he saw, floating towards him on a thistledown, a fairy. "Hello," he said to himself, "that's a fairy." "Oh, ho," said the fairy to herself, "there's a farmer." So they became acquainted at once. "Good morning." said the fairy getting down from her carriage and sitting on v rose petal. "A nice day." "Nice!" cried the farmer. "Nice day you call it. 1 never saw such weather." "What's the matter with it?" the fairy asked. "With the temperature as low as this— for summer, mind you—how am I to hope the things will come on? Just look at this rose bush over the porch. The only rose that's open is the one you are sitting upon." "And what would you like?" said the fairy. "A LITTLE WARM SUN." said the farmer. Now before he could breathe again out came the sun. The roses burst into blossom, the hay began to smell sweet, the cows went to the streams, the ducks upended In the pond. "Whew:" said the farmer. "My word, it's hot. isn't it?" "Nice and warm," said the fairy. "Nice and warm! Well, perhaps so," the farmer replied. "See how the youag green feels it. How are my turnips to swell? I wish we had A WIND TO COOL THE SUN." No sooner said than a soft soughing came from the trees, the long grass rustled like a silk skirt, the swifts flew high in the air, and all the bushes bent their heads to listen. "R r r r wheweu-oo," went the merry wind. It rippled the pond, it bent the trees, it nearly had the farmer's hat off. To hear it rush round the side of the house and rattle the kitchen windows was enough to make any man laugh. "Snap!" Oft came tile bough of a young ! tree. "Bang" went the garden gate. "This wind!" said the farmer, holding Ms hand over his pipe. ' "Nice wind, isn't it?" said the fairy, swinging on the rose leaf. "Nice: My goodness mc. it will dry everything up. it will parch the ground after al) that sun. We shall have no potatoes this year, and precious little milk. I wish we had A SHOWER TO CALM THE WIND." "Pitt, pitt, pitter, patter," came the rain. The ducks waggled their tails with Joy. The wind hushed: the leaves on the trees held up their faces to be washed. The stream babbled more loudly, and the pond became one mass of little circles. The earth sucked up the rain, and all the roots In the ground swelled with delight. "Isn't it delightful?" said the fairy. She was wrapped in two pieces ot spider's web, and only her face was wet. The farmer said nothing. But he lit a second pipe. "Now you've got all you want," said the fairy. The rain streamed down and hid the distant hills, and then the near woods, and then the home pasture. "Brrl" said the farmer, shaking the dropi from his cap. "Such a nice rain," said the fairy. "Nice rain. Jehoshaphat!" said the farmer. "Why, all the things will rot In the ground. I shan't have a flower left, to say nothing of the hay; and what, I ask you, are the bees to do in this weather? We shan't have one single section of honey. Now if we had A CALM TO STOI? THIS DELUGE." It was calm in a moment. Not a cloud showed in the sky, which hung like a thick, grey blanket over everything. The air was so still that the sheep bells sounded quite near, and the fuss from the chickens in the yard was loud and insistent. A melancholy "drip, drip," came from everywhere. A hoarse "hank, hank," came from the geese. It was moist, warm, and oppressive. "Doesn't the earth smell sweet after the rain?" said the fairy, delightedly sniffing the air. "1 dare say it does to you," said the farmer. "All the things looked so washed and neat after the rain." said the fairy. "You ought to be so pleased getting everything you want so nicely." •■I-flok here, miss." the farmer said. "This is all very well, but how's my mill to turn if there's now wind? And how are my crops to grow if there's no sun? Now, I wish we had A LITTLE SEN TO BREAK THE CALM." In a flash out came the sun from behind the clouds. The earth steamed. The farmer mopped his forehead, the sheep, vow passing on the road, raised a cloud of tine, white dust. Flowers came out feebly anil drooped, the bees became busy again and hung on tc flowers till they were drunk with honey. The cows waded knee deep into the streams anil tried to whisk away the multitude of (lies. Sweet peas and roses filled the air with scent. The vines iv the greenhouse thrived under the sweliering heat. "Oh. isn't this gorgeous?" said die fairy. "All the children will have freckles, ami the plums will get ripe quickly, and th< peaches will be warmed through when yot e:.t them." "1 dou't know what I shall do," said th« farmer. -It's lucky I have a little put by for this year would ruin mc otherwise. Tin ground is simply burnt up. Look at th< grass, burnt brown already. My turnips am knew such a summer. Now, if we couk have A THUNDERSTORM. it might clear the air." As if all the artillery in the world hac been ordered to Are at once, so came tht storm. The air was dark; vivid flashes oi lightning flashed across the sky. Birds weni to bed thinking it was night. Dogs howled trees groaned, and great limbs were ton from them. The farmer said little. He was dumb founded. ••I love a storm," said the fairy. "Sei how the lightning tears the sky open ant shows queer pictures of black trees." "Oh. don't:"' said the farmer. "I'm so sorry," said the fairy. '•'. thought it was what you wanted." "I know what I want till I get it, anc then I don't want it," said the farmer. "Oh, be contented, farmer, dear," sai< the fairy. "Learn to enjoy life withou grumbling for ever because It isn't differ enL The good things are the things neares to us. not those we cannot reach." "I'm a farmer," said he.

"You're just a man," said the fairy. "Honestly," said the farmer, "I'm sick of this storm." Before yon could count two it was over. The fairy had flown away. As the farmer looked at the nice, warm, fine day he scratched his head, and as he turned to go out, he said: "Well, I dare say we shall have a change to-morrow. Good weather luce this never lasts." Wa are incorrigible.