The Bird Of Happiness

Dominion, Volume 32, Issue 94, 14 January 1939, Page 7 (Supplement)

The Bird Of Happiness

(Original, by San Toy (15), Hastings.)

pRINCESS DAPHNE sat on her satin-covered couch and gazed sadly out into the garden. Every now and then she gave a little sniff, and took out her lace-edged hankie to rub her eyes. Princess Daphne had never laughed, or even smiled, in all her sixteen years. In vain her father sent heralds all over the country, proclaiming great rewards for anyone who could make the princess laugh. But Daphne only wept more than ever at the sight of the many doctors, magicians and jesters who tried in vain to make her laugh with their cures and jokes. “It is so sad,’’ she wept. “All these people try to make me laugh, and I can’t even smile.” , , ~ At last, one day in despair, the king recalled his heralds and vowed he d let no one else see the princess. That night, at sundown, a queei figure came striding up to the palace gates and asked an audience with the king. The king was just preparing to leave his reception-room, but, being in a good mood, instead of saying, as he was prone to say of late visitors, “Let him wait till tomorrow,” he bade his servants let him enter. As the stranger strode up the room, the king so far forgot his royal dignity as to frankly stare at him. He was certainly a striking figure. Dressed from head to foot in scarlet and silver, scarlet shoes with huge silver buckles, scarlet hose and tunic. A long scarlet cloak lined with silver hung from his shoulders, and a silver and scarlet peaked cap was placed at a jaunty angle on his brown curly hair. Out of a tanned face twinkled a pair of merry brown eyes, and a wide, humorous mouth creased into wrinkles of laughter at the corners. The king found himself suddenly smiling at this merry stranger. _ “Well?” he asked after a minute’s silence, “what do you wish to see me

about?” T , , « “Your majesty,” replied the stranger, “two moons ago I heard of your daughter’s sad affliction, and I have come with ail possible speed to see her. I think I know what is wrong with the princess.” The king frowned. He had expected something better of this interesting stranger,' than for him to turn out to be just another of the stupid doctors who pestered him day after day with their useless cures. “Don’t you know,” he said slowly, “that just today I issued a proclamation that no one else was to see the princess? I am tired of all these doctors, magicians and jesters with their so-called cures for tears.” The stranger smiled, and turned to go, saying as lie did so: “1 am not a doctor nor a magician, or a jester, nor yet do I claim to be able to cure the princess; that, I think, I can only tell you how to do, and I am sorry I am too late. I bid you goodbye, your majesty.” Then he bowed and walked down the hall. The king’s eyes followed him thoughtfully as he strode away, and then, as he reached the door, he called him back. “Come back, stranger; you have travelled a long way to serve my daughter, and I could not be so ungrateful as to let you go right away. Stay and' sup with me. and rest here tonight, and after I may take you to see mv daughter, but I doubt if you will do any’ good.” "For your first and last favour, your majesty, I thank you, but I sleep under no man's roof,” smiled the stranger. The page boy swung back the silver and glass doors leading to the Princess Daphne’s apartments, and the king and the stranger stepped in. .The princess raised her head and gazed sadly at them with her great purple shadowed eyes. A faint look of interest passed over her pale face as she saw the stranger’s bright garb and merry face. With a smile, the stranger stepped up to her. . . “Why do you feel so sad, princess?” he asked, looking intently at her as he spoke. “I feel as though my heart were made of ice, and all the troubles of the world were weighted there, and I just have to cry,” she answered.. The stranger smiled and turned to the king. “I see what is wrong with your daughter, your majesty. She must find the bird of happiness.” Then, sweeping his long cloak about him, he stepped through a low window 'into the garden and vanished among the gathering shadows. The king strode swiftly to the window. “Where will I find the bird?” he called urgently, but the sighing of the wind and the soft sobbing of the princess were the only sounds he heard. From far amVnear came endless streams of people all bringing birds of everv kind, but in' vain. Surely the peacock, a bird with such wonderful feathers, would be the bird of happiness. Or the dove, symbol of peace, would not it bring joy? Or even the little canary with its cheery jwhistle and golden feathers: or the nightingale, would not its liquid notes bring joy to the saddest of hearts? The blue bird, surely the bird that the poets sang of as the bird of happiness would bring a smile to the princess’s face? Strange and wonderful birds came from foreign lands, but in vain.

(To be continued.)