章节正文
"But I don't know," she rejoined.
"Why, everybody knows."
"That's the very thing: I'm not everybody. I've never seen the sun."
"Then you can't know what it's like till you do see it."
"I think you must be a prince," said the princess.
"Do I look like one?" said the prince.
"I can't quite say that."
"Then why do you think so?"
"Because you both do what you are told and speak the truth.--
Is the sun so very bright?"
"As bright as the lightning."
"But it doesn't go out like that, does it?"
"Oh, no. It shines like the moon, rises and sets like the moon,
is much the same shape as the moon, only so bright that you can't
look at it for a moment."
"But I would look at it," said the princess.
"But you couldn't," said the prince.
"But I could," said the princess.
"Why don't you, then?"
"Because I can't."
"Why can't you?"
"Because I can't wake. And I never shall wake until----"
Here she hid her face in her hands, turned away, and walked in
the slowest, stateliest manner towards the house. The princeventured
to follow her at a little distance, but she turned and made a repellent
gesture, which, like a true gentleman-prince, he obeyed at once.
He waited a long time, but as she did not come near him again, and as
the night had now cleared, he set off at last for the old woman's cottage.
It was long past midnight when he reached it, but, to his surprise,
the old woman was paring potatoes at the door. Fairies are fond
of doing odd things. Indeed, however they may dissemble, the night
is always their day. And so it is with all who have fairy blood
in them.
"Why, what are you doing there, this time of the night, mother?"
said the prince; for that was the kind way in which any young man
in his country would address a woman who was much older than himself.
"Getting your supper ready, my son," she answered.
"Oh, I don't want any supper," said the prince.
"Ah! you've seen Daylight," said she.
"I've seen a princess who never saw it," said the prince.
"Do you like her?" asked the fairy.
"Oh! don't I?" said the prince. "More than you would believe, mother."
"A fairy can believe anything that ever was or ever could be,"
said the old woman.
"Then are you a fairy?" asked the prince.
"Yes," said she.
"Then what do you do for things not to believe?" asked the prince.
"There's plenty of them--everything that never was nor ever could be."
"Plenty, I grant you," said the prince. "But do you believe there
could be a princess who never saw the daylight? Do you believe
that now?"
This the prince said, not that he doubted the princess,
but that he wanted the fairy to tell him more.
She was too old a fairy, however, to be caught so easily.
"Of all people, fairies must not tell secrets. Besides, she's
a princess."
"Well, I'll tell you a secret. I'm a prince."
"I know that."
"How do you know it?"
"By the curl of the third eyelash on your left eyelid."
"Which corner do you count from?"
"That's a secret."
"Another secret? Well, at least, if I am a prince, there can
be no harm in telling me about a princess."
"It's just the princes I can't tell."
"There ain't any more of them--are there?" said the prince.
"What! you don't think you're the only prince in the world,
do you?"
"Oh, dear, no! not at all. But I know there's one too many just
at present, except the princess----"
"Yes, yes, that's it," said the fairy.
"What's it?" asked the prince.
But he could get nothing more out of the fairy, and had to go
to bed unanswered, which was something of a trial.
Now wicked fairies will not be bound by the law which the good fairies
obey, and this always seems to give the bad the advantage over the good,
for they use means to gain their ends which the others will not.
But it is all of no consequence, for what they do never succeeds; nay,
in the end it brings about the very thing they are trying to prevent.
So you see that somehow, for all their cleverness, wicked fairies
are dreadfullystupid, for, although from the beginning of the world
they have really helped instead of thwarting the good fairies,
not one of them is a bit wiser for it. She will try the bad
thing just as they all did before her; and succeeds no better of course.
The prince had so far stolen a march upon the swamp-fairy that she
did not know he was in the neighbourhood until after he had seen
the princess those three times. When she knew it, she consoled
herself by thinking that the princess must be far too proud and too
modest for any young man to venture even to speak to her before he
had seen her six times at least. But there was even less danger
than the wicked fairy thought; for, however much the princess
might desire to be set free, she was dreadfully afraid of the
wrong prince. Now, however, the fairy was going to do all she could.
She so contrived it by her deceitful spells, that the next night
the prince could not by any endeavour find his way to the glade.
It would take me too long to tell her tricks. They would
be amusing to us, who know that they could not do any harm,
but they were something other than amusing to the poor prince.
He wandered about the forest till daylight, and then fell fast asleep.
The same thing occurred for seven following days, during which neither
could he find the good fairy's cottage. After the third quarter
of the moon, however, the bad fairy thought she might be at ease
about the affair for a fortnight at least, for there was no chance
of the prince wishing to kiss the princess during that period.
So the first day of the fourth quarter he did find the cottage, and the
next day he found the glade. For nearly another week he haunted it.
But the princess never came. I have little doubt she was on the
farther edge of it some part of every night, but at this period she
always wore black, and, there being little or no light, the prince
never saw her. Nor would he have known her if he had seen her.
How could he have taken the worn decrepit creature she was now,
for the glorious Princess Daylight?
At last, one night when there was no moon at all, he ventured near
the house. There he heard voices talking, although it was past midnight;
for her women were in considerableuneasiness, because the one whose
turn it was to watch her had fallen asleep, and had not seen which
way she went, and this was a night when she would probably wander
very far, describing a circle which did not touch the open glade
at all, but stretched away from the back of the house, deep into
that side of the forest--a part of which the prince knew nothing.
When he understood from what they said that she had disappeared,
and that she must have gone somewhere in the said direction,
he plunged at once into the wood to see if he could find her.
For hours he roamed with nothing to guide him but the vague notion
of a circle which on one side bordered on the house, for so much
had he picked up from the talk he had overheard.
It was getting towards the dawn, but as yet there was no streak of light
in the sky, when he came to a great birch-tree, and sat down weary
at the foot of it. While he sat--very miserable, you may be sure--
full of fear for the princess, and wondering how her attendants
could take it so quietly, he bethought himself that it would not
be a bad plan to light a fire, which, if she were anywhere near,
would attract her. This he managed with a tinder-box, which the
good fairy had given him. It was just beginning to blaze up,
when he heard a moan, which seemed to come from the other side of
the tree. He sprung to his feet, but his heart throbbed so that he
had to lean for a moment against the tree before he could move.
When he got round, there lay a human form in a little dark heap
on the earth. There was light enough from his fire to show that it
was not the princess. He lifted it in his arms, hardly heavier
than a child, and carried it to the flame. The countenance
was that of an old woman, but it had a fearfully strange look.
A black hood concealed her hair, and her eyes were closed.
He laid her down as comfortably as he could, chafed her hands,
put a little cordial from a bottle, also the gift of the fairy,
into her mouth; took off his coat and wrapped it about her,
and in short did the best he could. In a little while she opened
her eyes and looked at him--so pitifully! The tears rose and
flowed from her grey wrinkled cheeks, but she said never a word.
She closed her eyes again, but the tears kept on flowing, and her
whole appearance was so utterly pitiful that the prince was near
crying too. He begged her to tell him what was the matter,
promising to do all he could to help her; but still she did not speak.
He thought she was dying, and took her in his arms again to carry
her to the princess's house, where he thought the good-natured
cook might he able to do something for her. When he lifted her,
the tears flowed yet faster, and she gave such a sad moan that it
went to his very heart.
"Mother, mother!" he said. "Poor mother!" and kissed her on
the withered lips.
She started; and what eyes they were that opened upon him!
But he did not see them, for it was still very dark, and he had
enough to do to make his way through the trees towards the house.
Just as he approached the door, feeling more tired than he could
have imagined possible--she was such a little thin old thing--
she began to move, and became so restless that, unable to carry her
a moment longer, he thought to lay her on the grass. But she stood
upright on her feet. Her hood had dropped, and her hair fell about her.
The first gleam of the morning was caught on her face: that face
was bright as the never-aging Dawn, and her eyes were lovely as the
sky of darkest blue. The prince recoiled in overmastering wonder.
It was Daylight herself whom he had brought from the forest!
He fell at her feet, nor dared to look up until she laid her hand
upon his head. He rose then.
"You kissed me when I was an old woman: there! I kiss you when I
am a young princess," murmured Daylight.--"Is that the sun coming?"
CHAPTER XXIX
RUBY
THE children were delighted with the story, and made many amusing
remarks upon it. Mr. Raymond promised to search his brain for another,
and when he had found one to bring it to them. Diamond having
taken leave of Nanny, and promised to go and see her again soon,
went away with him.
Now Mr. Raymond had been turning over in his mind what he could do both
for Diamond and for Nanny. He had therefore made some acquaintance
with Diamond's father, and had been greatly pleased with him.
But he had come to the resolution, before he did anything so good
as he would like to do for them, to put them all to a certain test.
So as they walked away together, he began to talk with Diamond
as follows:--
"Nanny must leave the hospital soon, Diamond."
"I'm glad of that, sir."
"Why? Don't you think it's a nice place?"
"Yes, very. But it's better to be well and doing something, you know,
even if it's not quite so comfortable."
"But they can't keep Nanny so long as they would like. They can't
keep her till she's quite strong. There are always so many sick
children they want to take in and make better. And the question is,
What will she do when they send her out again?"
"That's just what I can't tell, though I've been thinking of it
over and over, sir. Her crossing was taken long ago, and I couldn't
"Why, everybody knows."
"That's the very thing: I'm not everybody. I've never seen the sun."
"Then you can't know what it's like till you do see it."
"I think you must be a prince," said the princess.
"Do I look like one?" said the prince.
"I can't quite say that."
"Then why do you think so?"
"Because you both do what you are told and speak the truth.--
Is the sun so very bright?"
"As bright as the lightning."
"But it doesn't go out like that, does it?"
"Oh, no. It shines like the moon, rises and sets like the moon,
is much the same shape as the moon, only so bright that you can't
look at it for a moment."
"But I would look at it," said the princess.
"But you couldn't," said the prince.
"But I could," said the princess.
"Why don't you, then?"
"Because I can't."
"Why can't you?"
"Because I can't wake. And I never shall wake until----"
Here she hid her face in her hands, turned away, and walked in
the slowest, stateliest manner towards the house. The princeventured
to follow her at a little distance, but she turned and made a repellent
gesture, which, like a true gentleman-prince, he obeyed at once.
He waited a long time, but as she did not come near him again, and as
the night had now cleared, he set off at last for the old woman's cottage.
It was long past midnight when he reached it, but, to his surprise,
the old woman was paring potatoes at the door. Fairies are fond
of doing odd things. Indeed, however they may dissemble, the night
is always their day. And so it is with all who have fairy blood
in them.
"Why, what are you doing there, this time of the night, mother?"
said the prince; for that was the kind way in which any young man
in his country would address a woman who was much older than himself.
"Getting your supper ready, my son," she answered.
"Oh, I don't want any supper," said the prince.
"Ah! you've seen Daylight," said she.
"I've seen a princess who never saw it," said the prince.
"Do you like her?" asked the fairy.
"Oh! don't I?" said the prince. "More than you would believe, mother."
"A fairy can believe anything that ever was or ever could be,"
said the old woman.
"Then are you a fairy?" asked the prince.
"Yes," said she.
"Then what do you do for things not to believe?" asked the prince.
"There's plenty of them--everything that never was nor ever could be."
"Plenty, I grant you," said the prince. "But do you believe there
could be a princess who never saw the daylight? Do you believe
that now?"
This the prince said, not that he doubted the princess,
but that he wanted the fairy to tell him more.
She was too old a fairy, however, to be caught so easily.
"Of all people, fairies must not tell secrets. Besides, she's
a princess."
"Well, I'll tell you a secret. I'm a prince."
"I know that."
"How do you know it?"
"By the curl of the third eyelash on your left eyelid."
"Which corner do you count from?"
"That's a secret."
"Another secret? Well, at least, if I am a prince, there can
be no harm in telling me about a princess."
"It's just the princes I can't tell."
"There ain't any more of them--are there?" said the prince.
"What! you don't think you're the only prince in the world,
do you?"
"Oh, dear, no! not at all. But I know there's one too many just
at present, except the princess----"
"Yes, yes, that's it," said the fairy.
"What's it?" asked the prince.
But he could get nothing more out of the fairy, and had to go
to bed unanswered, which was something of a trial.
Now wicked fairies will not be bound by the law which the good fairies
obey, and this always seems to give the bad the advantage over the good,
for they use means to gain their ends which the others will not.
But it is all of no consequence, for what they do never succeeds; nay,
in the end it brings about the very thing they are trying to prevent.
So you see that somehow, for all their cleverness, wicked fairies
are dreadfullystupid, for, although from the beginning of the world
they have really helped instead of thwarting the good fairies,
not one of them is a bit wiser for it. She will try the bad
thing just as they all did before her; and succeeds no better of course.
The prince had so far stolen a march upon the swamp-fairy that she
did not know he was in the neighbourhood until after he had seen
the princess those three times. When she knew it, she consoled
herself by thinking that the princess must be far too proud and too
modest for any young man to venture even to speak to her before he
had seen her six times at least. But there was even less danger
than the wicked fairy thought; for, however much the princess
might desire to be set free, she was dreadfully afraid of the
wrong prince. Now, however, the fairy was going to do all she could.
She so contrived it by her deceitful spells, that the next night
the prince could not by any endeavour find his way to the glade.
It would take me too long to tell her tricks. They would
be amusing to us, who know that they could not do any harm,
but they were something other than amusing to the poor prince.
He wandered about the forest till daylight, and then fell fast asleep.
The same thing occurred for seven following days, during which neither
could he find the good fairy's cottage. After the third quarter
of the moon, however, the bad fairy thought she might be at ease
about the affair for a fortnight at least, for there was no chance
of the prince wishing to kiss the princess during that period.
So the first day of the fourth quarter he did find the cottage, and the
next day he found the glade. For nearly another week he haunted it.
But the princess never came. I have little doubt she was on the
farther edge of it some part of every night, but at this period she
always wore black, and, there being little or no light, the prince
never saw her. Nor would he have known her if he had seen her.
How could he have taken the worn decrepit creature she was now,
for the glorious Princess Daylight?
At last, one night when there was no moon at all, he ventured near
the house. There he heard voices talking, although it was past midnight;
for her women were in considerableuneasiness, because the one whose
turn it was to watch her had fallen asleep, and had not seen which
way she went, and this was a night when she would probably wander
very far, describing a circle which did not touch the open glade
at all, but stretched away from the back of the house, deep into
that side of the forest--a part of which the prince knew nothing.
When he understood from what they said that she had disappeared,
and that she must have gone somewhere in the said direction,
he plunged at once into the wood to see if he could find her.
For hours he roamed with nothing to guide him but the vague notion
of a circle which on one side bordered on the house, for so much
had he picked up from the talk he had overheard.
It was getting towards the dawn, but as yet there was no streak of light
in the sky, when he came to a great birch-tree, and sat down weary
at the foot of it. While he sat--very miserable, you may be sure--
full of fear for the princess, and wondering how her attendants
could take it so quietly, he bethought himself that it would not
be a bad plan to light a fire, which, if she were anywhere near,
would attract her. This he managed with a tinder-box, which the
good fairy had given him. It was just beginning to blaze up,
when he heard a moan, which seemed to come from the other side of
the tree. He sprung to his feet, but his heart throbbed so that he
had to lean for a moment against the tree before he could move.
When he got round, there lay a human form in a little dark heap
on the earth. There was light enough from his fire to show that it
was not the princess. He lifted it in his arms, hardly heavier
than a child, and carried it to the flame. The countenance
was that of an old woman, but it had a fearfully strange look.
A black hood concealed her hair, and her eyes were closed.
He laid her down as comfortably as he could, chafed her hands,
put a little cordial from a bottle, also the gift of the fairy,
into her mouth; took off his coat and wrapped it about her,
and in short did the best he could. In a little while she opened
her eyes and looked at him--so pitifully! The tears rose and
flowed from her grey wrinkled cheeks, but she said never a word.
She closed her eyes again, but the tears kept on flowing, and her
whole appearance was so utterly pitiful that the prince was near
crying too. He begged her to tell him what was the matter,
promising to do all he could to help her; but still she did not speak.
He thought she was dying, and took her in his arms again to carry
her to the princess's house, where he thought the good-natured
cook might he able to do something for her. When he lifted her,
the tears flowed yet faster, and she gave such a sad moan that it
went to his very heart.
"Mother, mother!" he said. "Poor mother!" and kissed her on
the withered lips.
She started; and what eyes they were that opened upon him!
But he did not see them, for it was still very dark, and he had
enough to do to make his way through the trees towards the house.
Just as he approached the door, feeling more tired than he could
have imagined possible--she was such a little thin old thing--
she began to move, and became so restless that, unable to carry her
a moment longer, he thought to lay her on the grass. But she stood
upright on her feet. Her hood had dropped, and her hair fell about her.
The first gleam of the morning was caught on her face: that face
was bright as the never-aging Dawn, and her eyes were lovely as the
sky of darkest blue. The prince recoiled in overmastering wonder.
It was Daylight herself whom he had brought from the forest!
He fell at her feet, nor dared to look up until she laid her hand
upon his head. He rose then.
"You kissed me when I was an old woman: there! I kiss you when I
am a young princess," murmured Daylight.--"Is that the sun coming?"
CHAPTER XXIX
RUBY
THE children were delighted with the story, and made many amusing
remarks upon it. Mr. Raymond promised to search his brain for another,
and when he had found one to bring it to them. Diamond having
taken leave of Nanny, and promised to go and see her again soon,
went away with him.
Now Mr. Raymond had been turning over in his mind what he could do both
for Diamond and for Nanny. He had therefore made some acquaintance
with Diamond's father, and had been greatly pleased with him.
But he had come to the resolution, before he did anything so good
as he would like to do for them, to put them all to a certain test.
So as they walked away together, he began to talk with Diamond
as follows:--
"Nanny must leave the hospital soon, Diamond."
"I'm glad of that, sir."
"Why? Don't you think it's a nice place?"
"Yes, very. But it's better to be well and doing something, you know,
even if it's not quite so comfortable."
"But they can't keep Nanny so long as they would like. They can't
keep her till she's quite strong. There are always so many sick
children they want to take in and make better. And the question is,
What will she do when they send her out again?"
"That's just what I can't tell, though I've been thinking of it
over and over, sir. Her crossing was taken long ago, and I couldn't
- prince [´prins]
n.王子；亲王；君主 (初中英语单词) - midnight [´midnait] n.午夜；漆黑 (初中英语单词)
- princess [,prin´ses] n.公主；王妃；亲王夫人 (初中英语单词)
- daylight [´deilait] n.日光；黎明 (初中英语单词)
- wicked [´wikid] a.邪恶的；不道德的 (初中英语单词)
- advantage [əd´vɑ:ntidʒ] n.优势；利益 (初中英语单词)
- consequence [´kɔnsikwəns] n.结果；后果；推断 (初中英语单词)
- dreadfully [dredfuli] ad.可怕地；糟透地 (初中英语单词)
- stupid [´stju:pid] a.愚蠢的；糊涂的 (初中英语单词)
- beginning [bi´giniŋ] n.开始，开端；起源 (初中英语单词)
- stolen [´stəulən] steal 的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- venture [´ventʃə] n.投机 v.冒险；敢于 (初中英语单词)
- endeavour [in´devə] n.&v.努力，试图，尽力 (初中英语单词)
- cottage [´kɔtidʒ] n.村舍；小屋；小别墅 (初中英语单词)
- haunted [´hɔ:tid] a.常出现鬼的，闹鬼的 (初中英语单词)
- glorious [´glɔ:riəs] a.光荣的；辉煌的 (初中英语单词)
- considerable [kən´sidərəbəl] a.重要的；值得重视 (初中英语单词)
- circle [´sə:kəl] n.圆圈 v.环绕；盘旋 (初中英语单词)
- miserable [´mizərəbəl] a.悲惨的；可怜的 (初中英语单词)
- anywhere [´eniweə] ad.无论何处；任何地方 (初中英语单词)
- restless [´restləs] a.没有休息的 (初中英语单词)
- unable [ʌn´eibəl] a.不能的；无能为力的 (初中英语单词)
- therefore [´ðeəfɔ:] ad.&conj.因此；所以 (初中英语单词)
- resolution [,rezə´lu:ʃən] n.决心；坚决；果断 (初中英语单词)
- amusing [ə´mju:ziŋ] a.有趣的 (高中英语单词)
- fortnight [´fɔ:tnait] n.两星期 (高中英语单词)
- streak [stri:k] n.纹理 v.用线条(条纹) (高中英语单词)
- sprung [sprʌŋ] spring的过去分词 (高中英语单词)
- comfortably [´kʌmfətəbli] ad.舒适地 (高中英语单词)
- cordial [´kɔ:diəl] a.热忱的；亲切的 (高中英语单词)
- pitiful [´pitifəl] a.可怜的；慈悲的 (高中英语单词)
- trying [´traiiŋ] a.难堪的；费劲的 (英语四级单词)
- uneasiness [ʌn´i:zinis] n.不安，担忧；不自在 (英语四级单词)
- delighted [di´laitid] a.高兴的；喜欢的 (英语四级单词)
- deceitful [di´si:tful] a.欺骗的，骗人的 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
京公网安备 11011202003401号
