For the Children.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXV, Issue 2221, 26 October 1907, Page 2 (Supplement)

For the Children.

THE FLYING TRUNK. There was once a merchant, so rich that he might hav c paved the whole street where he lived and an alley besides with pieces of silver, but' this ho did not. do; he knew another way of using his money, and whenever’ be laid out a shilling ho gained a crown in return; a merchant he lived and a merchant he died. All his money then went to his son. But the son lived merrily and spent- all his time in pleasures, went to masquerades every evening, made bank-notes into paper-kites, and pl-iycd at ducks and drakes in tlio pond with gold pieces instead of stones. In this manner his money soon vanished, until at last li© had only a few pennies left, and his wardrobe was reduced to a pair of slippers and an old dressing gown. His friends cared no moro about him; one of them, however.' more

good-natured than the rest, sent him an old trunk, with this advice, “Pack up, and be off!” This was all very * fine, but he had nothing that ho could pack up, so he put himself into the trunk. It was a droll trunk 1 When the lock was pressed close it could fly. The merchant’s son did press the lock, and lo ! up flew the trunk with him through the chimney, high into the clouds, on and oil, higher and higher; the lower part cracked, which rather frightened him, for if it had broken in two, a pretty fall lie would have had 1 However, it descended safely, and he found himself in Turkey. He hid the trunk under a heap of dry leaves in a wod, and walked into the next town; he could do so very well, for among the Turks everybody goes about clad as ho was, in dressinggown and slipers. Ho met a nurse, carrying a little • child in her arms. “Hark ve, Turkish nurse,” quoth he; “what place is that with the high windows close by the town?” “Tlio King’s daughter dwells there,” replied the nurse; “it has ben prophesied of her that she shall be made very unhappy by a lover, and therefore no one may visit- her, except when the King and Queen are with her.”

“Thank" you,” said the merchant’s eon, and he immediately went back into the wood, sat down in his trunk, flew up to the roof of his palace and crept through the window dow inito the Princess’s apartment.

iShe was lying asleep on the sofa. .She was so beautiful that the merchant’ son could not help kneeling down to kiss her hand, whereupon che awoke, and was not a little frightened at the sight of this unexpected visitor; but lie told her, however, that lie was the Turkish prophet, and had come- down from the sky on purpose to woo her, and on hearing this she was well pleased. So they sat down side by side, and he talked to her about her eyes, how that that they were beautiful dark-blue seas, aud that thoughts and feelings floated like mermaidens therein; and he spoke of her brow, how that it- was a fair snowy mountain, with splendid halls and pictures, and many other such like tilings he told her. ■Oh, these were charming stories! and thus he wooed the Princess, and she immediately said “Yes!”

“But- you must come here on Saturday',” said she; “the King and Queen have promised to drink tea with mo that evening; they will be so proud and pleased when they' hear that I am to marry the Turkish prophet ! And mind you . tell them a very pretty story, for they are excedi ugly fond of stories; my mother likes them to be very' moral and aristocratic, and my father likes them to be merry, so as to make him laugh.”

“Yes, I shall bring no other bridal present than a tale,” replied tho merchant’s son; and then they parted, but not before the Princess had given her lover a sabre all covered with gold. Ho knew excellently well what use to make of this present. So he flew away, bought a new dressing-gown, and then sat down in the wood to compose the tale which was to be ready by Saturday, and certainly, he found composition not the easiest thing in the world. At" last he was ready," and Saturday came. •

The King, the. Queen, and the whole court were waiting for him at tho Princess’s palace. The suitor was received with much ceremony.

“Will you not tell us a story?” asked the Queen ; “a story that is instructive and full of deep meaning.” “But let it make us laugh,” said the King. “With pleasure,” replied the merchant’s son; and -now you must hear the story. “There was once a bundle of matches, who were all extremely proud of their high decent, for their genealogical tree, that is to say, the tall fir-tree from which each of them was a splinter, had been a tree of great antiquity, and distinguished by its height from all the other trees of the forest. The matches were now lying on the mantel-piece, between the tinder-box and an old iron saucepan, and to these two they often talked about their youth. Ah, when wo were upon the green branches, said they; “when we really lived upon green branches —that was a happy time! Every morning and oven in <' we had diamond-tea; that is dew! the whole day long wo had sunshine, at least whenever the sun shone, and all the little birds used to tell stories to us. It might tas ily bo seen, too, that we were rich for the other trees were clothed uith leaves only during the summer whereas our family could afford to weai green clothes both summer and i; Cut at last came the uoou it comes to pass that persons of such l,j„h descent as we aic should i U o a s S Il mfne is a different history” remarked the non sat.eesolidly good, and am of really firstimportance in this house. My only recreation is to stand clean and bright upon tins mantel-shelf aitei dinner, and to hold some rational conversation with my companions. However, excepting the water-pail, who now and then goes out into the court we all of us lead a very quiet domestic life here. Our only neus mont-or is the turf-basket, but lit talks'’in such a democratic way about ‘government’ and ‘tlip people vliy. Insure you not long ago, there was m Old jar standing here, who was so much shocked by what he heard that ho fell down from the lnantelnicco and broke into a thousand pieces! The turf-basket is a Liberal, that’s the fact.” . . , „ . . “Mow. you talk too much,” interrupted the tiuder-box, autl the steel

struck the flint, so that tho sparks flow out. “Why should wo not spend a pleasant ovoning?”

“Yes, lot us sottlo who is of tho highest rank amongst us,” proposed the matches.

“Oh, no; for my part I would not speak of myself,” objected the earthenware pitcher. “Suppose wo have an intellectual ontortaiiunont? I will begin: I will relate something of ovory-day life, such as wo have all experienced; one can easily transport oneself into it, and that, is so interesting I Near tlio Baltic, among tho Danish boech-grovcs ” “That, is a capital beginning!” cried all the plates at onco; “it will certainly bo just tho sort of story for me!”

“Yes, there I spoilt my youth in a very quiet family; tho furnituro was rubbed, tlio floors wero washed, clean curtains wero hung up every fortnight.” “How very interesting! "What a charming way you have of describing tilings!” said tlio liair-broom “Any one might guors immediately that it is a lady who is speaking flio tale Hint breathes such a spirit of cleanliness I”

“Very truo; so it doos!” exclaimed the water-pail, and in tlio excess of bis delight he gave a little jump, so that sorao of tho water splashed upon tho floor.

And tho pitcher wont on with her tale, and tho end proved as good as the boginning. All the plates clattered applause, and tho hair-broonj, took lorac green parsley out of the sand-hole and crowned tho pitcher, for lie knew that this would vox tho others; and, thought he, “If I crown her to-day, she will crown mo to-morrow.” “Now I will dance,” said tho firetongs. and accordingly she did dance, and oh 1 it was wonderful to seo liow she threw one of her legs into tho air ; tho old chair-covor in tho corner tore with horror at seeing her. “Am not I to be crowned too?” asked tho tongs, and she was crowned forthwith.

“These are tho vulgar rabble!” thought the matches. The tea-urn was now called upon to sing, but she said she had a cold ; and that she could only sing when she was boiling; however, this was all her pride and affection. Tlio fact was she never cared to sing except when she was standing on the parlortable before company. On tho window-ledge lay an old quill pen, with which the maids used to write; there was nothing remarkable about her, oxcopt that sho had been dipped too low in tho ink; however, she was proud of that. “If the tea-urn does not choose to sing,” quoth she, sho may let it aloiie, there is a nightingale hung in tho cage just outside—he can sing; to be sure, lie lias never learnt his notes—never mind, wo will not speak evil of anyone this evening.” “I think it highly indecorous,” observed tho tea-kettle, who was the

vocalist of the kitchen, and a halfbrother of tho tea-urn’s, “tnat a foreign bird should be listened to. Is it patriotic? I appeal to the turfbasket?” “I am only vexed,” said t-lie turfbasket; “I am vexed from my inmost soul that such things are thought of at all. _ Is it a becoming way of spending tho evening? "Would it not bo moro rational to reform tlio whole house, and cstabisli a totally now order of things, rather more according to nature? Then every one would get into his right place, and 1 would undertake to direct the revolution. What do you say to it ? That would be something worth doing!” “Oh, yes, wc will make a grand commotion!” cried they all. Just then tlio door opened—it was the ser-vant-maid. They all stood perfectly still, not one dared to stir, yet there was not a single kitchen-utensil among them all but was thinking about the great things he could have done, and how great was his superiority over- the others. “Ah, if we had chosen it,” thought each of .them, “what a merry evening we might have had!” The maid took the matches and struck a light—oh, how they spluttered and blazed up! “Now every one may see, thought they, “that’we are of the highest rank; what splendid dazzling light wo give, how glorious!”—and m another moment they were burnt out. “That is a capital story,” said tlio Queen; “I quite felt myself trans-" ported to the kitchen; —yes tliou sliult have our daughter!” “With all my heart,” said tlio King; “on Alonday thou-shalt marry our daughter.” They said thou to him now, since he was so soon to becomo one of tlio family. Tho wedding was a settled thing; and oil the evening preceding, the whole city was illuminated; cakes, bitiis, and sugar-plums wore thrown out among tlio people; all tho little boys in the streets stood upon tip-toes, shouting “Hurrah 1” and whistling through their fingers—it was famous. “Well, I suppose I ought to do my part too,” thought, the merchant’s son, so he went and bought sky-rock-ets, squibs, Catherine-wheols, Romancandles, and all kinds of fireworks conceivable ; put them all into his trunk, and flew up into tho air, letting them off as he flew. Hurrah! what a glorious sky-rocket was thatl " '

All the Turks jumped up to look, so . hastily that their slippers flew about their ears; such a meteor they had never seen before. Now they might be sure that it was indeed the prophet who was to marry their Princess As soon as the merchant s son had returned in his trunk to the wood, he said to himself, “I will now go into the city and hear what people say about me, and what sort of figure I made in the air.” And, certainly, this was a very-natural idea. Oh, what strange .accounts were given! Eevry one whom ho accosted had beheld the bright vision in a way peculiar to himself, blit all agreed that it was marvellously beautiful. _ . “X saw the great prophet with mv own eyes,” declared one. “Ho iiat i eyes like sparkling stars, and a beard li'ko foaming water.” . “He flew enveloped in a mantle of fire,” said another. “The prettiest little cherubs were peeping forth from under liis folds.” Yes; he heard many beautiful tilings, and tlie morrow was to bo his wedding-day. . He now went back to the wood, intending to get into his trunk again, but where was it? A Alas! the trunk was burnt. One spark from the fireworks bad been left in it, and sot it on fire; the trunk now lay in ashes. Cm pom merchant’s son could never m again —could never again visit lus bride. She sat the live-long day upon the roof of her palace expecting him; she expects him still; ho meantime, o-oes about the world, telling, stones, hut none of lus stories now aie s pleasant as that one which bo related in the Princess’s palace about the Brimstone Matches.