The Fairy Nightcaps - Part 7
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Part 7

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."

The children looked on with great eyes and a kind of delicious fear, and were almost crazy after the drill was over, to run and beg the cadets to lend them their horses and swords, so as to practise the cavalry drill themselves.

They walked on the edge of the parade-ground, looking all around them with the most amused and delighted interest; at times fairly singing and skipping for joy, and eagerly planning long walks and voyages of discovery.

Minnie thought there must be a "day party" somewhere, the people were dressed so fine, and everybody seemed so very happy.

Numbers of elegantly dressed ladies were walking about, and some fine-looking officers were paying them all the compliments they could think of. In the midst of a group of gentlemen, high above them all, towered the majestic form of the brave General Scott, who has won so many battles for us in Mexico, and who is Commander-in-Chief of all the soldiers in our country. The children looked at him with the greatest admiration; and the boys made up their minds that it was absolutely necessary they should be soldiers when they grew up; and they would have given all they possessed to sleep now in the canvas tents like the brave cadets.

And now the children began to descend a winding path, and wandered down a beautiful road where the trees met overhead. The air was fragrant with the woodbine which curled round the trunks of the trees, while, at their feet, tiny harebells and the purple violet modestly peeped up.

Jumping, skipping, and gathering wild flowers, they came at length to a lovely open s.p.a.ce scooped out of the rock, as it seemed, in the centre of which is a crystal spring, which comes up sweet and clear into a stone basin.

Upon this basin they read the name of the great "Kosciusko;" and this was his garden, where he used to sit for many hours in the day reading his book, or admiring the glorious works of G.o.d spread before him. The children looked with love and admiration upon the name and place where the good and brave Pole had been; and the boys audibly hoped that they would do something very n.o.ble and brave when they grew up, so that everybody might speak well of them.

As they drew near the house, they saw a lady sitting in the bowery porch with their mother.

"Goodness!" cried half a dozen of them, "it's Aunt f.a.n.n.y! Did you ever?" And thereupon they charged like a company of cadets going to fire on the run, and shot Aunt f.a.n.n.y with a whole volley of kisses.

It was really a wonder she looked so well after it; fifty kisses in a minute is pretty severe loving; but Aunt f.a.n.n.y only laughed when she could catch her breath, and, taking Minnie on her lap, asked what particular fun and mischief they had been about lately.

Then didn't they have a grand time, telling about their journey? and the wonderful fairy adventures of Charley? And Charley, who was sitting leaning against his mother, declared that he could not have dreamt them, because he remembered them all so well, and he had felt so much better ever since the beautiful fairy Queen had taken him in charge.

"Why," cried Aunt f.a.n.n.y, "I shall have to go back to Idlewild, where I pa.s.sed two delightful hours this morning, right away, and tell all this to the lovely children I saw there. I am sure Edith, and Daisy, and sweet little Bailey, would go straightway down to their beautiful Glen, to hunt up the fairies that no doubt live there hidden under the ferns and mosses, so fairily fine and delicate.

"O Aunt f.a.n.n.y!" cried the children, "do tell us about Idlewild and dear little Edith, and Daisy, and Bailey Idlewild."

"That is not the name of the children, you monkeys," said Aunt f.a.n.n.y, laughing, "any more than you are Harry and Minnie Nightcap. It is the fanciful, dreamily sweet name of the place; and the pure life and neighborly love ever adorning and brightening that graceful and kindly house-roof, make June sunshine all over the lovely place the year round."

"Ah! how delightful it must be," cried the children; "do tell us, Aunt f.a.n.n.y, all about your visit."

"Well, to begin at the beginning, I went up to Cornwall upon some business, and I staid all night at a house just this side of the beautiful Idlewild Glen. In the evening I was invited to go to a Sunday-school celebration; I was very glad to get this invitation, because I love children so much. The services were all very interesting, but the best thing of all was a most beautiful story which was told, to prove the blessed effect of love upon the heart, and how much better it was to govern by _love_, than by fear and continual punishment."

"_We_ know that!" exclaimed the children, "that's the very way mother governs us--don't you, mamma?" and they all had to give her a kiss before they said, "Please go on, Aunt f.a.n.n.y; do tell us the story."

"The teacher said it was true, every word of it, but I do not know whether he got it out of a book, or whether it happened to some children he knew; perhaps you have read it already."

"O dear! no, we haven't, I'm sure," said the children, "and if we have, your way of telling it will make it new again. Come, Aunt f.a.n.n.y, tell the story."

"Well, then, here it is--Once on a time a good old farmer said to his wife, 'Wife, you know poor neighbor Jones died a little while ago, and his little son Johnny is left alone in the world. Suppose we take him?

One more will make very little difference. Shall we?'

"'O deary me! no,' said the wife, 'I wouldn't have him among our children for any thing! Why, he's worse than a little heathen!'

"'So he is,' said the farmer, 'I'm a little afraid to try it myself--that's a fact!'

"Now while the old farmer was talking, he was also busily engaged in eating his dinner of pork and greens, and his children had kept their ears open, and had heard all that was said.

"Presently one of the boys, whose name was Luke, looked up and said, 'Father, you know we send _one good missionary_ among a _great many heathen_. Now, why can't we bring this _one little heathen_ among a great many good people? I'll lend Johnny my kite and ball, and we'll be so kind to him he will never _want_ to be bad. Father, WE'LL LOVE HIM GOOD.'

"The good old farmer, who tried his best to keep G.o.d's holy commandments, and especially to 'love his neighbor,' thought this an excellent plan; so he brought Johnny home with him the very next day.

"Sure enough, Johnny was worse than any heathen. He broke the good little boy's ball, tore his kite all to pieces, pulled little Susie's hair, pinched the baby, kicked the small children, and b.u.t.ted the large boys with his head, and, in short, behaved so badly, that they were all nearly crying: still they would not give up Luke's plan, but kept on trying to be kind to him.

"But it was all of no use; Johnny was really a dreadful boy. At last the old farmer said, 'Well, we can't go on so with Johnny; he must have obedience knocked into him like a nail in a plank of wood. I must try if I can't whip him into better behavior:' so he beat the bad boy, and whipped him, and shook him till his teeth rattled in his head, and his hair was all in a friz about his eyes. But, alas! it did no good; Johnny was as bad as ever.

"Then the farmer said, 'Wife, this is a very bad business; whipping does not make Johnny any better; we must try if we can't STARVE the obstinacy out of him.'

"'I don't like to do that,' said the wife.

"'But it must be done,' answered the old farmer; 'it is our duty to try to make him a good boy.'

"So they shut him up in the great garret, where paper bags of dried herbs, and strings of red peppers, and great cobwebs, kept him company. They gave him nothing to eat and drink but dry bread and a cup of water.

"Every now and then the farmer's wife would come, tap at the door, and say, 'Johnny, will you be good _now_?' and Johnny would shout out in a fierce defiant voice, 'No! no! I won't! You may lock me up forever and ever, and I won't be good.' So the poor farmer's wife would heave a sigh and go away.

"All the morning little Susie had been very silent, with the tears just trembling on her eyelids. She felt very much grieved that Johnny was such a bad boy, and she could not bear to think of him in the lonely garret with no company but his wicked thoughts: so, after dinner, she crept softly up to her mother, and said, 'Mother, I think I can get Johnny to be good, if you will let me try.'

"'Well,' said her mother, smoothing her hair lovingly, 'what is your plan?'

"'Why, mother,' answered the little girl, 'I will go and tell Johnny that I will be locked up instead of him, and he may go play with my dear little boat that brother made, and named for me.'

"The mother looked at her a moment with a loving tear swelling in her eyes, then she said, 'Very well, you may go.'

"So Susie took down the key of the garret, which hung behind the door, and went up stairs, unlocked the door, and then tapped gently.

'Johnny, may I come in?' said she.

"'What do you want _now_?' grumbled the bad boy. Susie went in, and going softly up to him, she said--'Johnny, mother says you may go and play with my little boat this afternoon, and I will be locked up instead.'

"I am ashamed to say that Johnny was mean enough to accept this offer, and let the little girl bear his punishment; for without even stopping to thank her, he started up and made off, slamming the door behind him, and locking it with a spiteful snap.

"He had a famous time sailing the pretty little boat in the brook; and only came in at tea-time--as hungry as a bear.

"After he had eaten a hearty meal of bread and b.u.t.ter, baked pears, and a great piece of nice gingerbread, he noticed that the farmer's wife commenced to clear away the things, and then he remembered poor little Susie. He sat silent a good while, but at last he could not stand it any longer, and he said--'Say? ain't you agoing to give that little gal up stairs any tea? say?'

"'Yes, Johnny,' answered the mother, 'you can take this to her,' and she handed him a piece of dry bread on a plate.

"Johnny took the plate, carried it up stairs, and began to kick and bang at the door--Thump! b.u.mp! thump!

"'Unlock it and come in,' cried Susie. So Johnny did so, and went in; but when he saw the dear little child sitting there so patiently and smiling at him, a strange trembling came to his lips, and without saying a word, he put down the plate, and darted away.

"All that night Susie staid in the garret, and slept as quietly and sweetly as if she had been in her own little room.

"When the next day came, Johnny felt very much like asking pardon for his bad conduct, and begging that Susie might come down from her captivity, while he took her place; but the sun was shining gloriously, and Johnny thought of the little boat; and so, driving away the good thoughts and impulses, he eat his breakfast, s.n.a.t.c.hed up the boat, and ran out to play.