The Fairy School of Castle Frank Part 6

"Is Niblius truthful?"

"He was never known to tell a lie in all his life," answered Primeval.

"Then Purrier must be very treacherous," rejoined the king.

"He is," said the counsellor.

"It is no new thing," remarked the king, "for crafty creatures to get the simple to begin a foolish quarrel."

[Ill.u.s.tration: KING m.u.f.fLER. "It is no new thing," remarked the king, "for crafty creatures to get the simple to begin a foolish quarrel."]

"True, O king, and the crafty gain their end by seeming to be in the right."

"If not found out," said m.u.f.fler. "Crafticus," he added, indignantly, "such trickery, if practised by all my subjects, would break up my mighty realm. And, besides, you showed no mercy. I do therefore sentence you to be struck down by the lion Thunderpeal, my grumbling uncle, or, if you choose, to be torn in pieces by the tiger Clawnailia, my cruel cousin, or to the mercy of anyone as cruel-hearted as yourself, and if you can escape their terrible clutches, good and well.

I am sorry for you, and I am doubly sorry that talent like yours should be so much abused."

"I bow to your will, O King," said Crafticus meekly.

The fox's wife and children now came forward to bid him farewell forever. They were beautiful creatures, especially the little foxes, and their cries were heart-rending. They looked wistfully into the eyes of the condemned Crafticus, and placed their heads gently and affectionately beside his drooping head.

When Thunderpeal advanced by the counsellor's request to separate them, he had much difficulty in pus.h.i.+ng them away, and king m.u.f.fler's big heart was touched with sorrow.

Then Crafticus stood alone by the side of Thunderpeal, who waited impatiently the signal to strike him down.

"O king," said Crafticus, "may I speak one word?"

"You may, but make haste, for my uncle's face is getting dark and cloudy."

"You gave me my choice of a slayer, O king?"

"I did, but of one as cruel as yourself."

"You placed me in their mercy, O king?"

"I did, and I am very sorry for you, but the law must take its course."

"Then, O king m.u.f.fler, I choose my wife."

On hearing this the king's eyes opened wide, while Thunderpeal broke into a roar of anger, but a flash of m.u.f.fler's eyes sent him howling away. Then the king turned toward his counsellor and said--

"Well, well, isn't Crafticus clever? He catches at words as a lawyer handles them among mankind. Who would have thought that he would turn my words in his own favor?" Then m.u.f.fler laughed, and said--"he deserves to escape. After all, it was only a goose, and the goose was my own, and I can well afford the loss." And he laughed till his mane shook. "Go, Crafticus," he added, "and be slain by the mercy of your wife--by one indeed as cruel as yourself when it is a case of geese and ganders."

Crafticus bowed low and answered--

"I am deeply thankful, O king m.u.f.fler, for your justice and sympathy."

"Before you go," said the king, "there is one command I desire to make."

"I await your pleasure, O king."

"Make a right use of your talents, my Crafticus--be straightforward, be straightforward."

"I will, my king, I will."

Old Primeval smiled but said nothing.

Then Crafticus left with a bound, and getting into the presence of his wife and children, they killed him nearly--with kindness.

THE SONG-SPARROW.

The song-sparrow sang a long sweet song. Then he stopped and looked around. b.u.t.terflies and bees and other insects were on the wing everywhere, floating, darting and dancing in the suns.h.i.+ne; but the bird did not seek to disturb any of them, he had had a good breakfast of berries, and he was happy.

He might well be happy, not only for delicious food and glorious suns.h.i.+ne and power to sing a lovely song, but for the fact that his home was near. And in that home were his young ones--his tiny children,--and his little wife.

So the song-sparrow raised his rufous head, and opening his mouth, and vibrating his throat, he sang again as if in thankfulness and praise.

"Listen, Richard," said his little mate suddenly, and of course in her own tongue, "listen, listen." She called him "Richard," but if he were in a cage people would call him "d.i.c.kie."

Richard stopped in the middle of his song, and bending down his head, while turning his right eye toward a pretty cottage close by, he listened attentively and with great delight.

"Jenny," remarked he to his tiny wife, when the cottage song was done, "Master George is at the open window, the beautiful day has stirred his heart, and he has sung happily and well."

"Yes," said Jenny, "this must be Sat.u.r.day, for his tone is unusually bright and happy."

"It is always happy," answered Richard.

"True," said Jenny, "but it is happier to-day."

"Well, be it so, we won't differ, dear."

"That is right, dear husband, we must show a good example to our children;" and the mother-sparrow nestled her little ones lovingly.

"There is only one thing that makes me anxious in this glad world,"

remarked Richard as he looked down from the bush to the comfortable nest in the gra.s.s.

"What is it husband?"

"I am afraid of that snake I saw gliding outside and round the fence yesterday."

"Ah, yes," replied the little mother, "it makes my flesh creep to think of it; but I hope it won't venture into the garden."

"I trust not," said Richard; "but if I were a man, and if I had a gun, I should make short work of it."

"Aren't guns wonderful things, husband? How they blow out fire and smoke, and what a deafening noise they make!"