Old Farm Fairies - Part 2
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Part 2

"The very idea!" I cried. "You have come to my help, my dear, with your usual practical wisdom. Let us have the readings."

Behold us, then, the entire Old Farm family, with the exception of Abby, who was absent on a visit to New England friends, seated around the great Elm during the long June evenings, trying the merits of the Fairies' history. When the early tea was over, we took our seats (or rather positions, for some of the party preferred to recline upon the gra.s.s), around the tree, and the reading began, and continued until twilight. Sometimes I read, sometimes the Mistress, and in three weeks the story was finished.

"Now for the verdict," I said. "The children first. What say you? Shall we print the Brownie book?"

"To be sure," said Joe, "why not, Sir? I think those wars and adventures with the Pixies are just the thing for boys like me."

"I would print it," said Jennie modestly. "I think the Brownies' love stories are pretty indeed; though I don't like so much fighting, and the Pixies are just horrid."

"Print it, Sir!" cried Harry enthusiastically. "I'm sure boys like me will want to hear all about the Moth, Wasp, Bee and b.u.t.terfly ponies, and the curious, wise tricks of the Spider-pixies."

"As for me," said Hugh, "I'm young enough yit to relish a fairy story uv mos' any sort. So I vote with the youngsters to prent the book."

"My 'pinion hain't much good, I reckon," said Sarah, who stood half concealed behind the Elm with her hands upon her hips in her favorite posture. "An' I hain't no sort uv notion uv witches an' sich, no way.

Tho' laws-a-ma.s.sy! I b'lieve in 'em; 'v course I do! But somehow, I don't feel over comfo'ble to hev sech things a-prentin' about our Ole Farm. W'at's people goin' to say about sech goins-on, any way? I don't mind about the Brownies; like es not ther be sech folk. An' w'y not here as well as other places? I don't know w'ere they'd find a nicer home than jes' aroun' here; an' I'm pos'tive my kitchen's trig enough fer any kind o' fairies as ever was. Folks as hev sense enough to use a conch sh.e.l.l, now, as them Brownie heralds do, would be jes' likely to settle at the Ole Farm. But es for them Pixies--w'at's the use uv sech critters, anyhow? 'Tain't no ways comfo'ble to think thet they mought be squattin' on our premises. Howsomever, I'd prent the book, I reckon.

Leastways, ye kin do it, fer all me, 'f ye're a mine ter. My notion is it's a sight more interestener nor the Say-an-says. Though, they was worth prentin' too, that's a fac'!"

"Now, Dan, it's your turn," I said; "what say you?"

The old colored man sat on a low stool at the outer margin of the family circle, with his face leaning upon his hands. He raised his head, laid his palms upon his knees, rolled his eyes expressively and gave his verdict with all the solemnity of a judge pa.s.sing sentence on a capital offender.

"'Pears to me, Mars Mayfiel' an' Misses," he began, "dat dat's a powerful good story, an' a true one, too! W'y, I've seed dem wery Brownies myse'f. Uv coorse I hev!" he exclaimed emphatically, turning an indignant glance upon Sarah, who had uttered a significant guttural expression of unbelief. "W'at do you know aboout Brownies, Sary Ann, I'd jes' like to know? Pixies is more in your line, a heap sight! Down in ole Marylan', now, dar's a power ob Brownies and Fairies an' all sech folkses. 'Tain't ebry one as gits to see 'em, dough. Dey's mighty 'tickler 'boout w'at company dey keeps, I kin tell _you_!

"I doan say es I eber seed any on 'em roun' dis Ole Farm,--an' I doan say es I didn't. But dat's needer hyar nur dar. Dey's hyar, I knows.

I've done seed de signs ob 'em, many's de time. W'y, lookee hyar! How d'ye tink dem insecks an' bugs and tings w'at Mars Mayfiel' tole us aboout, done foun' out how to do dar peert tricks? Hit stans to reason dat sech critters ain't got de larnin' fer sech cunnin' doins. W'at wid dar nes's, an' burrows, an' cobwebs, an' cute little housens, an' all dat, dey show heap moah sense dan some w'ite folks es I could name. Now, whar dey gwine to fin' out all dat, I ax agin, an' how is dey gwine to do it, unless de Fairies helps 'em? Dey jes' kine ob obersee de job; dat's how it 'pears to me.

"Den dar's dat gubner Wille--shoo! He ain't no suc.u.mstance ter w'at I knows 'boout how de insecks, an' fairies, an' goblins an' dem kine ob beins hes to do wid we uns. No, no!"--and he shook his head with serious gravity--"no, Sah! hit won't do ter go back on dat. We cullud folks knows heaps ob larnin' aboout dem critters; an' dey's jes' wove in, an'

in, an' in, an' out ob dese yere mohtal libes ob ourn! Dar's de Deaf's-head moff, an' de catumpillars, an' de antemires, an' de death watch, an' de cricket, an' de money-spinners, an' de measurin'

worm--sakes-alive! Dar's signs an' warnins fer we uns in dem critters agin all de Pixies, worl' widout en'. Amen. Yes, Sah, hit's all right; dat's a true story, an' no mistake."

"But, Dan," I said, "you haven't told us yet what you think about printing the story."

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 10.--Our Farm Family in Literary Council.]

"Needer I have, Sah!" the old man replied, rolling up the whites of his eyes and shaking his s.h.a.ggy, gray poll. "Needer I have! an' wat's moah, I ain't gwine ter. I doan see much good in dem kine ob books no how--specially de picters. Dar's like to be bad work aboout dem tings.

Hit doan do ter be too fumwiliar wid such tings. W'at's de good? Dar's no tellin' w'at dey mought do ter we'ns, ef dey gits sot agin us. You bes' keep clar ob dat business, Mars Mayfiel'. De ole Bible's good 'nough fer me, Sah; an' hit says dat much larnin' makes a man mad, an'

books is a-wearisome to de flesh. An' dat's a fac', Sah,--leastways, readin' an' a-studyin' on 'em is. You kin do w'at you's a mine ter, an'

I 'low you'll prent de Brownie book, any way. Hit's mighty good hearin', I'll say dat fer it, but--" he shook his head once more, and was silent.

The next day I wrote to the Schoolmistress as follows:

The Old Farm.

My dear Miss Abby:

I have gone over the ma.n.u.script that you sent, and on the whole I approve of it, and agree to print it with such editorial notes as Queen Fancy has suggested. We have also--the Mistress and I--read it to the Farm family, having revived our last winter's "Say-an-says" for that purpose. I have even translated bits of the story into simpler form and speech for the youngest member of our household, four-year-old Dorothy. Our young people are enthusiastic in their admiration, and vote to print the book. So do the others, with the exception of Dan, who is noncommittal.

But the old fellow enjoyed the reading as much as the rest. He thinks the story a true one, and declares that he has seen the Brownies! You know his boundless superst.i.tion, and his odd habits of personifying all living things and talking aloud to them as he goes about his work. I have no doubt that he has peopled his little world with many queer imaginary creatures who may well stand to his undisciplined fancy for Fairies and Goblins, Brownies and Pixies. He has unwavering faith, also, in the occult influence of such beings and of insects generally upon the destinies of human kind.

By the way, this unexpected deliverance of Dan's has eased my mind as to one feature of the story, viz: the manner in which the life and behavior of the Willes are interwoven with, and interdependent upon, the movements of the Brownies and Pixies.

Since I have thought more about it, I have greatly abated the fear that the verisimilitude of such relations might not sufficiently appear to readers.

In point of fact, the creatures of the Insect World, as personified in the story, have had and shall have much to do with determining the lot of man. The plagues of Egypt as written in the Book of Exodus, furnish an example; as also the incursions of cankerworm, locust, caterpillar and palmerworm recorded elsewhere in Scripture. African travelers tell us that the tetze fly has so circ.u.mscribed the geographical bounds within which certain domestic animals can live, as to greatly limit or modify civilization. We all know examples of the effects of mosquito supremacy at certain points of our country in determining the fortunes of men or places. The familiar stories of Bruce and the Spider, and Mahomet and the Spider, are also in point as showing how great interests may hinge upon the behavior of an humble animal. Here are facts enough, surely, to justify us in facing the public with Governor Wille and his relations to the imaginary folk of the story.

In conclusion, I must say that I have been greatly interested to note how admirably the habits of my spider friends admit of personification. The so-called engineering, ballooning, cavemaking, sailing, and other operations, are so accurately described by those words, that the manlike qualities, motives and pa.s.sions attributed to the actors seem almost natural. At one moment I find myself accepting the representations as a matter of course, and antic.i.p.ating the conduct described on the very ground of known natural habits. At another time I am startled at the strong tone of human behavior that the descriptions so easily admit. Certainly, this is something more than what the naturalists have called "anthropomorphism." What is the mysterious ligature that binds in this sympathy of movements the sovereign will of immortal man and the automatic brain cell of a spider?

Pardon me! it was not in my purpose to start so profound a question of philosophy and physiology. I only meant to say that the wishes of yourself and your Brownie acquaintances shall be cheerfully granted, and the ma.n.u.script be given to the public.

I am, very truly, Your Friend, FIELDING MAYFIELD.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote A: Psalm lxxiv, 5.]

[Footnote B: Formica fusca.]

[Footnote C: In the little company referred to further on, to whom the ma.n.u.script of this book was read, was a friend's lad, eight years old, a visitor at the Old Farm. The Mistress noticed him during the intervals of the readings busy with pencil and paper, amusing himself with such drawings as children are wont to make. A number of these had been made and thrown away ere it occurred to the good woman to call my attention thereto. I was much surprised and delighted to find that the boy had been engaged in ill.u.s.trating the Brownie Book (as we then familiarly called it). It was a good sign of the value of the work that it could produce such an impression upon a child of his tender years. Moreover, the rude figures were so apt and interesting to my own mind, that I fancied others might be equally interested therein. "Why not print them?" suggested the Mistress. And upon mature deliberation that is just what I resolved to do. No one but a child could make such pictures. Let the adult, however good an artist, try as much as he may, he could not reproduce such drawings. Indeed the better the artist, the further would he come from achievement. That children will take at once to these reflections of a child's mind, appears quite probable. Moreover, to the thinking adult they must have a special value as a psychological study.

With all our knowledge of children, it is still marvellous how little we know of a child's mind. These little tokens of its workings perhaps may help us to a better knowledge. At all events, a few of these "Boy's Ill.u.s.trations" have been selected for engraving, and the editor will be disappointed if they do not give to both his adult and youthful readers as much pleasure as they gave to himself.--THE EDITOR.]

[Footnote D: Formica sanguinea.]

[Footnote E: Formica Schaufussii.]

[Footnote F: Sphecius speciosus.]

[Footnote G: Romans viii. 22.]

THE BOOK.

Old Farm Fairies.

A SUMMER CAMPAIGN IN BROWNIELAND AGAINST KING COBWEAVER'S PIXIES.

CHAPTER I.

HOW THE BROWNIES CAME TO HILLSIDE.

Not many years ago a company of Brownies lived on the lawn at Hillside, the home of Governor Wille. Since the Brownies are Scotch fairies, one must ask how they came to be dwelling so far away from their native heather upon the green hummocks of the Ohio.