The Last Leaf and the Dancing Girl

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXVI, Issue 23381, 24 June 1939, Page 8 (Supplement)

The Last Leaf and the Dancing Girl

THE Wind Child played a merry tune on his pipe as he raced through the park one autumn day. The leaves heard. They quivered first and then they danced until, in their mad whirl, they forgot the Mother Tree and drifted off in a golden > shower. It was one of autumn's last days. Pale sunlight shimmered on the cold, dark waters of the pond. Except where evergreens stood sturdily about the lawns, there was a tracery of grey branches and bare twigs. The Wind Child was full of mischief to-day. He lifted the white hair of an old man who sat in his favourite scat; he romped with a small boy and so infectious was his spirit of fun that the boy's mother had to spank him for naughtiness. At last old man, child and passers-by had gone, and the Wind Child, left alone, danced about the lilvpond, trying, hopelessly as ever, to attract the attention of the dancing girl who stood poised in its centre.

Specially written for Boys and Girls by PAMELA

She stood with one small foot almost touching the water, holding out her full skirt with one hand, the other reaching toward the lily-leaves that floated beneath her. She was pale grey —a shadow girl—who never seemed to hear the music of the Wind Child. Not a glance did she give him, so off lie went again to tease the leaves. Most of them hitd already danced to destruction. Some had been swept in golden piles before the gardener's broom. Some had fallen into the lily-pond to form an inner frame of gold at its rim. Except for one tiny space they formed a perfect circle. Now, 110 one knew that this was no ordinary lily-pond. Every autumn when the circle of golden leaves completed itself, the pond became possessed of magic and any wish uttered at its grev-stonc rim came true in a breath. Not even the Wind Child knew this, but sometimes lovers and lonely folk wandering there had wondered why their wishes had come so miraculously true. One golden leaf hung upon a slender twig. It might have been fashioned of precious metal,so finely drawn was each

lino and point, and so clearly was it tinted from pale amber to llame. It clung to <1 grey t\vig and tried, not to hear the silver piping of the \\ ind Chikl. , Often the golden leaf had found itself longing to follow its companions who had never come back, but somehow it had always resisted the wind music by clinging with all its strength to the tree. As long as it clung there it could see the Dancing Girl and it wanted nothing else, even though from his place oil the bough he could not see her down-turned face . . . only the curls and her dainty figure. The leaf remembered the spring morning when he, pale and new-green, had first beheld her. The park had been veiled in a silvery gaze, then a sudden shaft of sunlight had fallen across the lily pond and she had appeared like some airy sprite, to turn all the park into a laccry of green. Since then 110 had watched her through every hour of the day; fresh and almost real in the clean morning air, dancing through the rain-drops, through the dusk shadows and lovelier still in the moonlight above her gleaming pool. And now he was sad, for ho must go . . . he knew not where . . .

and leave her. _ JTe felt envious of the \\ ind Child, who tried in vain to mlTlc her curls. He hated the music that made him want to dance. Ah, here came that piping mischief again! He must cling with all his strength. The Wind Child, seeing the solitary leaf, made up his mind that it must fall. He played as he had never played before; at first low, soft music that made the golden leaf so drowsy that lie almost dropped, then elfin tunes _so bewitching that he wanted to twirl faster than the silver notes themselves. How the Wind Child piped! At last, weary and weak, the last leaf floated from the tree like a tired butterfly. With a cry of triumph the Wind Child stole away to sleep. In the dying breeze the leaf fluttered across the grass to the lilv-pond. He was glad that before his life was finished he was to see the face of the Dancing Girl. He could scarcely summon the courage to look up at her, but as he felt himself lifted over the rim, lie did look. How lovely were her lips as they smiled at him and her eyes beneath their lids were shadowy and kind. "If only I might stay here always at her feet!" sighed the leaf. With a last flutter he had dropped over the rim and lay with his brothers. The golden circle was complete, for he was the last leaf in the magic chain. His wish was granted. At that moment he felt new life surging through him. Ho sank down into the soft, cooling water. His glorious colour flamed more deeply than before and lie had the power of movement . . . lie could move as freely as the Wind Child. He had become a goldfish! There was a spell upon the park at that moment; the still air was full of whispers and the first star peeped curiously between the lilv-leaves. And there in the shadows did the Dancing Girl move her foot ever so slightly to caress a small golden fish with her too as he swam past.