The Fairy Nightcaps

In the midst of a deep silence, the poor little trembling spider began to spin thread after thread round and round the beautiful gauzy wings of the disgraced and now sorrowful fay; one after the other the beautiful tints of blue, and gold, and purple, first faded, then were hidden under the misty cloud-color of network.

The court looked on in sorrow, for the elfin was beloved by many, but not a fay dared murmur or question the justice of the sentence. At last his wings, of a dead dull gray, were prisoned fast; and the Queen, waving her sceptre, said – "Go, Slyboots; if you carry a right spirit to your work, you will win the fight."

The fairy said not a word, but bowed him low, and turned sadly away. The time was short, and he must hasten and don his stoutest armor, for the foe was deadly. A friendly grasshopper offered to take him to the foot of the window where he must enter. With a gleeful spring he mounted, and away with great leaps they went through the ferns and over the grass, scrambling painfully in and out of bramble bushes, and pricking themselves with the sharp nettles that lay in their path. But the grasshopper (that friend in need) carried him bravely through them all, and came at last to a little house under a great mushroom, where Slyboots kept bachelor's hall.

Here he alighted, and hastily fastened on his acorn helmet, with its beautiful plume from the humming bird's breast; then he donned his close-fitting vest, made of the skin of the prickly-pear – the sharp points bristling terror to invaders. On his left arm he carried his trusty shield, made of the back of the golden beetle, and his right hand grasped his sharp blade, fashioned out of the blue sword-grass.

Swiftly he bestrode his grasshopper steed again, and in a few moments they were be neath the open window of the room where lay the sleeping child.

Alighting, and thanking his friendly courser, Slyboots clambered up by the luxuriant rose-vine fastened against the cottage wall, and in a moment had dropped noiselessly into the room.

It was flooded with sweet clear moonlight. Clusters of roses were peeping in at the window, but none were half so lovely as the little human rose-bud lying so quietly in her tiny white bed. She might have come out of Elfin land – she was so fair and sweet; her merry blue eyes closed, her little song-voice stilled, and a lovely flush on her soft cheek from the kissing of the warm and balmy wind, which danced in and out of its own sweet will.

Hovering over her – a malignant gleam in his eyes – was the wasp. Already was his body curved to inflict the mean and cruel sting upon the defenceless child, when, with a bound, Slyboots was upon him, cut him sharply with his sword, and then scampered out of the window and took refuge in a great rose, apologizing to the little fairy whose home it was. With his back against the rose-leaves, and his shield on guard, Slyboots waited for the fray.

Out came the wasp, breathing fire and fury; his usual snarling hum changed into a fiendish roar of rage. Then did begin a most tremendous battle!! The fairy's blows fell thick and fast upon the horny head of his enemy, who vainly sought to sting him; but the trusty shield was never off duty. The wasp kept up a horrid din, as with maddening ferocity and desperation, he tried to find his foe, for he was now blinded with the blows. Panting with pain, and roaring with rage, he flew wildly round and round, returning each time with fourfold fury to the charge, till at last a well-directed stroke of the elfin's sword cleft his head asunder, and he fell prone to the earth, with one prodigious kick of all his feet in the air together.

Down jumped Slyboots from the friendly rose, and making sure of the death of his enemy by sundry bangs and whacks with the flat of his sword, quickly made a stout rope of corn silk, and fastening it round the head of the wasp, began his joyful journey back to the fairy hollow.

The good grasshopper had been a deeply interested spectator of the battle; his eyes hanging out like a lobster's with anxiety, and chirping a perfectly continuous rattle of encouragement to Slyboots, so that really he was as hoarse as a bull-frog when it was all over. With cheerful alacrity he helped the breathless fairy tie up the dead body of the wasp, and willingly allowed the other end of the corn silk rope to be fastened to one of his long hind legs; and then Slyboots mounting him once more, he tugged and scrambled along with his double burthen with so much hearty will, that they arrived at the fairy ground at least one minute and a quarter within the hour.

Meanwhile harmony and order had been restored in the beautiful hollow. The old prime minister was fast asleep under a fern leaf, with his precious bumble-bee memorial under his head, and Charley was watching with delighted interest the many happy groups upon which the moonbeams lovingly rested. Some were dancing the Fairy Lancers, some eating and laughing at the little tables, some having a childish game of cats-cradle with the tendrils of the grape-vine, and all were full of mirth and gaiety, as noisy and happy as it was possible to be; in fact, the fairies were marvellously like you, little reader; you are both full of fun and noise, and have no idea of going through the world slowly and carefully, as if you were stepping on one feather-bed, and had your head tied up in another. Not at all! they and you just jump and tumble about with prodigious talents for frolic, wearing out your shoes, and tearing your clothes – that is, you, for the fairies' shoes and clothes have a patent trick of always looking fresh and new. Charley thought his dear brothers and sisters were very like these little creatures in their fondness for fun, and he did wish that they were here this Midsummer night to have "a real good time."

Presently the Queen said to him, "Charley, did you ever blow bubbles?"

"Yes, often, beautiful lady."

"And what have you seen in them?" asked the Queen.

"Oh! the most lovely colors! and sometimes a charming tiny picture of the room where we were."

"Would you like to see some fairy bubbles?"

"Ah, yes! I should like it of all things."

The Queen gently clapped her hands, and instantly a page was kneeling at her feet.

"Go, Light-wing," said the Queen, "and tell Fancy to come here with her basin of foam and magic pipe."

The fairy rose from his knee, bowed low, and sped away. In an instant he returned in company with the daintiest, most ethereal little elf in fairy-land. Her wings were of air – her golden ringlets danced in the "tremulous, singing wind," giving out the perfume of the blossoming lily; her tiny rose-bud of a mouth opened, disclosing the whitest and smallest seed-pearl teeth, as with a smile beaming with love and sweetness, she said:

"Beloved Queen, most gladly have I come at your bidding. Deign but to command, and I will hasten to obey."

"Dear Fancy," said the Queen, placing her hand tenderly upon Charley's shoulder, "here is a lovely mortal who has suffered from his infancy; but all his pain has not been sufficient to sour his temper, or conquer his gratitude and love for the blessings and mercies which remain to him. As flowers spring from the dust, so have love, and truth, and every noble quality, sprung from the dark and bitter suffering of his life. For this I love him, and will strive to make the few days left to him on earth less sad, less painful; and I will do this by showing him all our fairy life. I have sent for you to ask you to exhibit, for his amusement, some magic bubbles; I would like him to look at them now."

For answer, the little elf bowed gracefully, dipped her pipe in the foaming dew, and began to breathe softly through the stem.

Soon the thin bubble rose in the twinkling fire-fly light. At first it was all of a gray-dark color; but out of this dark, like the sun breaking through the mist, bright golden and ruby tints began to appear.

It grew in size and splendor, till at last the fairy gently waving the pipe, the bubble slowly and gracefully floated away, and up a little, and then poised itself, and rested just before Charley.

It was like a moving picture in an oval frame. Within appeared a large and handsome parlor; a number of beautiful little children were grouped about the room, evidently waiting for some event to happen. Presently a baby-boy entered – a perfect bud of beauty. His fine and snowy-white garment was daintily embroidered and trimmed after a most royal fashion, with ivy leaves. Upon his beautiful head, crowned with light and lovely pale golden curls, was a wreath also of ivy.

With his luminous starry eyes uplifted, and the dimples peeping in and out of his rose-pink cheeks, he went around and offered a welcoming kiss to every one in the room. It was his birthday. Two sweet, happy years, had been unfurled in his little life, and the children were now gathered together in honor of the event.

Charley gazed with lips apart, intent and eager.

All at once he exclaimed, —

"Why! it is Howard! little Howard! Why, yes! and there is sweet little Carrie, his sister, with the beautiful wreath of roses, and the roses on her dress! Oh! what wonders I am seeing!"

As he spoke, a lady entered, Howard's loving and lovely mother, with an immense paper bag, and proceeded to fasten it to the chandelier in the centre of the ceiling; then some one else came in, and spread a large white sheet upon the carpet immediately underneath.

Then one of the little ones was blindfolded, and a cane was put into his hands. He was to try to strike the bag, but instead, he made a tremendous whack at nothing half a yard one side of the bag, which made the children laugh merrily.

Charley laughed, too; you could hear him, but he could only see that the children in the magic bubble were laughing.

"I know them almost all!" he cried, in a voice of delight; "there are Eva, and Robbie, and Alice, and Hattie, and Minnie, and Eddie, and sweet little Kitty and Mortie; and oh! how happy they all look! how perfect! and what a nice time they must be having!"

After two or three had tried to strike the bag, little baby Howard had the handkerchief tied above his eyes, just for fun, because he was too little to be really blindfolded; and, armed with the cane, he grasped it with both tiny hands, his eyes dancing with glee, and a gladsome smile parting his sweet little mouth, showing the pearly teeth within. He gave the bag a sounding thump, and instantly it burst asunder, and a perfect cataract of candies and sugar-plums poured down upon the carpet. Quick as a flash every child in the room was clustered together upon the sheet helter-skelter, head-over-heels, laughing, screaming, dashing after the candies; and then – the bubble burst, and Charley saw no more.

"Oh! oh! how beautiful! how wonderful!" said the lame boy; "dear, dear little fairy! I thank you; but I should so like to know what the children did after that."

Again the pipe was dipped in the foam-dew, and the fairy blew out another bubble, that floated away and rested as before.

This time a wide hall, with a table in the centre, appeared. Upon the table the colored waiters were quickly placing large dishes of cakes, oranges, mottoes, and pyramids of cream. A door, within which shone a bright light, opened into this hall, and a little dancing form flitting past now and then, showed that the children were frolicking inside.

When the table was so perfectly covered, that it very nearly broke down under the weight of goodies, there was seen issuing from the parlor-door, first, the beautiful little king of the feast, carried in his father's arms, his eyes sparkling, and his whole face radiant with smiles. After him came, two and two, all the lovely little band; they marched entirely round the table, and you may be sure they all looked one way – and that way was the table-way, of course, where such a grand feast was spread out. That was the party, as I once heard a little girl say, and who added, "Oh! I'm so glad! the party has come – look what a lot of it!"

And now what a tremendous time the boys had helping the little girls, and filling their laps with every thing they could lay their hands on, and then cramming their own pockets till they stuck out all over like balloons.

Just as they were in the height of eating, and laughing, and presenting each other with mottoes, on which were printed the most beautiful poetry, declaring that they would love each other as long as they lived, and nobody knows how much longer; and Charley was looking on wild with delight – presto! the bubble suddenly burst, and the picture was gone.

"Oh! can any thing be more perfect!" cried Charley. "I am so happy! Dear little fairy! do let me kiss you for making me so happy."

With a loving smile the beautiful elfin fluttered her wings and flew into his breast, where she lay nestling like a little white dove. Charley tenderly lifted her up, kissed her soft tiny cheek, touched her golden ringlets, and felt her breath, fragrant as the perfume of violets, fanning his face. He was silent with happiness, painting over in his mind Fancy's magic pictures. The beautiful Queen sat watching him, and enjoying his delight, when a far-off sound startled them both – a sound of acclamation. Nearer and nearer it came, till the air rang with tiny shouts and joyful clapping of hands. The voices were respectfully hushed as a crowd of fairies advanced into the Queen's presence; and Charley saw that Slyboots was in their midst, weary and breathless, his wings still hidden in the spider-net, but exultantly dragging the dead wasp by the corn-silk cord. His wee face looked pale; but his eyes shone with the old brightness, as the Queen's glance fell kindly and approvingly upon him.

"Did you arrive in time to save Minnie from the cruel sting?" she said.

"I did, please your gracious Majesty," answered Slyboots.

"And did you waken her?"

"No, my Queen; I struck the wasp, and drew him outside of the window, where I took refuge in a rose, and from thence, with my good sword, I gave him battle. Long and fiercely we fought in the moonlight. The little yellow butterflies crept under the leaves affrighted; the midges in the air trembled, and whispered to each other that an earthquake was surely at hand; but at last my enemy bit the dust, and I pounded him till he was as dead as the prime minister's abominable bumble-bee's mem – "

"Silence!" interrupted the Queen; but she really had to laugh, for Slyboots looked at her with such a comical twist of his eye, which changed to a beam of happiness as her Majesty said to him:

"You have done your task aright, and gladly we forgive you; but remember, Slyboots, never let your love of fun carry you so far again; and put this piece of advice in your pocket – keep out of the way of the prime minister the next time you have tight ropes erected for your friends to dance on."

Slyboots' face grew as red as a scarlet poppy at this allusion, and the laugh that followed; and the Queen, seeing his confusion, said: "Quick, Ripple – quick, Firefly – release his wings."

In a moment the fairy knights had cut away the gray network, and Slyboots joy fully shook his wings, now brighter than ever.

Just at that moment a bugle-call sounded from the sentry at the top of Crow Nest, and a faint twittering of a little bird was heard in a tree skirting the hollow. The dawn was coming, lifting the dew-mist from the lap of the earth; a faint light was streaking the east, as the Queen, gathering her shining band, with Charley in the midst, rose in the air, and flitted away to the cottage window. Softly they laid him down, and the Queen touched his eyes. The white lids drooped heavily, then closed, as a grateful balmy sleep wrapped his senses like a mantle.

Then the Queen softly detached the gauzy wings, and handed them to her page, Lightwing, charging him to guard them carefully. The little mother lay with her cheek in her hand, never stirring, and the kitten looked on this time with a friendly purr; and just as the first day glimpse had gilded the hill-tops, the fairy train had vanished into the sweet hazy mist of the Midsummer Morn.

THE CHILDREN'S LIFE

Midsummer morning broke in gorgeous, glorious brightness. Light fleecy clouds floated swiftly over the blue heaven; a crisp fresh wind curled the waters of the Hudson; and the beautiful little island opposite West Point lay on its bosom like an emerald; its green banks clasped by the loving tide.

With the first drum-beat, the happy Nightcap children were up and dressed; and having, with more gratitude than usual, thanked their Heavenly Father for so many blessings, they went first to inquire how their dear brother Charley had passed the night.

"Hush!" said the little mother, as they came to the door, "don't chatter now; Charley is still sleeping; do not make any noise; see how lovely he looks."

The children crept in on tiptoe, and gazed lovingly at the sleeping boy. At that moment a warm glow flashed suddenly into his cheek, and his lips parted in a glad smile.

"Oh! see, see!" whispered the children, "Charley is dreaming; perhaps he is talking to the fairies the doctor told us about; when he awakes we will ask him."

Then they went softly down stairs and out into the fresh delicious air. The birds were chanting their morning hymns; the lawn was golden green with the sun's rays, and spangled with dew. Bees were dreamily humming over the wealth of honeysuckles and roses that covered the cottage-wall, gathering their sweet and fragrant food at their leisure.

The children felt the blessed influences of all these lovely works of the great Creator in an increase (if such a thing were possible) of their happiness and joy.

You would have thought they were made of corks, so lightly did they skip here and there, running round the trees after each other, the boys turning somersets on the grass, and the girls declaring that they could get to the top of Crow Nest with only a hop, skip, and jump.

"Oh, delightful!" cried George, "to get up a mountain with three steps! you'll have to borrow Jack's seven-leagued boots. I wonder who lives on the top?"

"Why, the crows, to be sure," said Harry, "and they keep up such a talking; it is like a hail-storm all the time; you never heard any thing like the way crows can scold. If one crow is caught stealing, all the rest caw and croak at him, till he very nearly goes into fits, and then they all fly at him till he hasn't a feather left; I read all about it in my Natural History."

"Oh!" cried little Minnie, "how I like to hear stories about fishes! tell another crow story."

While the children were good-naturedly laughing and explaining to Minnie that a crow was a bird, their mother appeared at the cottage-door and said, "Breakfast, children."

In they all rushed, quite ready for the nice corn-bread, boiled eggs, and real milk– not milkman's milk – but they looked round in some surprise for Charley.

"He is still sleeping," said the little mother, "and smiling in his sleep; this quiet rest will do him so much good, I hope. Oh, my precious Charley!" she exclaimed, "if I could only keep you a little longer;" and her eyes filled with tears.

The children looked sad and grave, and two or three went round and kissed their mother, and patted her kind cheek, and said they were sure Charley was better. After breakfast they stole softly up stairs to look again at their darling brother.

Charley was sitting up in bed as they entered: a strange bewildered expression was upon his face, and he had his hands behind him, trying to feel his shoulders.

"Do come here, George," said he, "and see if there are wings upon my back."

"Wings!!!" shouted the children in amazement, "what can Charley mean?"

"Yes, wings," replied Charley; "the fairy Queen fastened them upon my back last night, and I went with her and her beautiful maids of honor to the Midsummer ball. Oh! how delightful it was, and how I longed for you!"

"Goodness!" exclaimed the children, "did you really go? How perfect! Did you ever? Why didn't they take us, too? Oh, Charley! do begin at the very beginning, and tell us all about it. Won't you? Say! do, come!"

Clustering around the bed, their eyes fastened upon his face, breathless with wonder and delight, and with no end of exclamations, they listened to the enchanting account of Charley's adventures. The little mother came in the room just at the end; upon which they all rushed at her in a body, and told the amazing story over again, all talking at the same time; and the little mother said quite as many "Ahs" and "Ohs" and "did you evers" as they did. But she smiled lovingly at her lame boy, and parting the golden curls on his white forehead, and kissing him tenderly, whispered, "My darling knows that he has been Dreaming."

Was it a dream?

Charley was so much better that day, that the good doctor, when he came, was astonished; and when he heard that the fairies had done him the honor to take him to their Midsummer festival, he was delighted, as well as astonished, and laughingly declared that the elves had robbed him of his patient. "Why, Charley," he continued, "if the fairy Queen can put such a rosy color in your cheeks, and such a sparkle in your eyes in one night, she beats me all to pieces at doctor ing. I shall have to give you up to her, and only come here every day to make a social call, so that you and I, two old fellows, can have a talk about the state of the country. But I may as well put my pills and powders into one of the cannons, and fire them off at some of the fine ladies who go about, sweeping the parade-ground with their furbelowed dresses, and think they are dying of dyspepsia, when all they want is some useful occupation. I have lots of them to make bread pills for, and I may as well let the fairies have my dear little friend here."

Just at that instant the drums made a prodigious clatter, and the children started up to see what it meant.

"It is the call for the cavalry drill," said the doctor; "you had better run."

Off scampered the children to the edge of the parade-ground, their eyes dancing with expectation and eagerness.

On their way they passed the encampment; they gazed at the snow-white tents of the cadets with the utmost interest, and indeed would rather have lived in these delightful canvas houses, than in a king's palace.

"Oh! Harry!" exclaimed Anna, "I wonder if we mightn't just peep into one of them."

"Certainly," answered Harry, who was always ready for adventures, and he lifted up the opening of the tent nearest.

"Oh! what a perfect place!" he cried; "come! look!" and he disappeared within.

The children all peeped in, their heads looking like a bunch of grapes, all piled one on top of the other; while Harry, inside, pretended he was a showman, and made them a speech.

"Walk in, ladies and gentlemen," he said, "and see the show – all for sixpence; children half price. Here you have one small bed, or humble cot, one camp stool, one very small looking-glass, on the back of which," he continued, turning it suddenly over, "is a picture of the great Napoleon Bonaparte, running away, with his drawn sword in one hand, and a leg of mutton in the other; while just below is another of an old cadet, poking a young one with his bayonet."

The children were laughing heartily over these specimens of the fine arts, drawn by one of the cadets, when

Bang! tr-tr-tr-tr-tr-tr. Bang! tr-tr-tr-tr-tr-tr went the drums again. Off they hurried to the parade-ground, and there, out in the bright morning sunlight, which came down like "flickering gold" through the glowing air, galloped that fierce and brave Colonel Hardie, who looked as if he should consider it the merest trifle to fight a dozen enemies at once, and kill them all, as a matter of course.

And out galloped a regiment of cadets, while Colonel Hardie, wheeling round, awaited their coming.

With their drawn swords flashing in the glorious brightness, and the gallant Colonel now at their head; they wheeled about, and turned about, dashed here and there, suddenly advancing, then as suddenly retreating, with their horses rearing and prancing, and snorting and dancing, till you would have been sure they were in the greatest possible hurry to rush full tilt at somebody, no matter who, and instantly run them through with their sharp naked swords, without giving them a ghost of a chance to cry "Quarter."