Various
Half-Hours with Great Story-Tellers
CHAPTER III
SHE CAN'T BE OURS
Her atrocious aunt had deprived the child of all her gravity. If you ask me how this was effected, I answer: In the easiest way in the world. She had only to destroy gravitation. And the princess was a philosopher, and knew all the ins and outs of the laws of gravitation as well as the ins and outs of her boot-lace. And being a witch as well, she could abrogate those laws in a moment, or at least so clog their wheels and rust their bearings, that they could not work at all. But we have more to do with what followed than with how it was done.
"The first awkwardness that resulted from this unhappy privation was that the moment the nurse began to float the baby up and down, she flew from her arms towards the ceiling. Happily, the resistance of the air brought her ascending career to a close within a foot of it. There she remained, horizontal as when she left her nurse's arms, kicking and laughing amazingly. The nurse in terror flew to the bell, and begged the footman, who answered it, to bring up the house-steps directly. Trembling in every limb, she climbed upon the steps, and had to stand upon the very top, and reach up, before she could catch the floating tail of the baby's long clothes.
"When the strange fact came to be known, there was a terrible commotion in the palace. The occasion of its discovery by the king was, naturally, a repetition of the nurse's experience. Astonished that he felt no weight when the child was laid in his arms, he began wave her up and—not down, for she slowly ascended to the ceiling as before, and there remained floating in perfect comfort and satisfaction, as was testified by her peals of tiny laughter. The king stood staring up in speechless amazement and trembled so that his beard shook like grass in the wind. At last, turning to the queen, who was just as horror-struck as himself, he said, gasping, staring, and stammering:—
"'She can't be ours, queen.'
"Now the queen was much cleverer than the king, and had begun already to suspect that 'this effect defective came by cause.'
"'I am sure she is ours,' answered she. 'But we ought to have taken better care of her at the christening. People who were never invited ought not to have been present.'
"'Oh, ho!' said the king, tapping his forehead with his forefinger, 'I have it all. I've found her out. Don't you see it, queen? Princess Makemnoit has bewitched her.'
"'That's just what I say,' answered the queen.
"'I beg your pardon, my love, I did not hear you. John, bring the steps
I get on my throne with.'
"For he was a little king with a great throne, like many other kings.
"The throne-steps were brought, and set upon the dining-table, and John got upon the top of them. But he could not reach the little princess, who lay like a baby-laughter-cloud in the air, exploding continuously.
"'Take the tongs, John,' said his majesty, and getting up on the table, he handed them to him.
"John could reach the baby now, and the little princess was handed down by the tongs."
CHAPTER IV
WHERE IS SHE
One fine summer day, a month after these her first adventures, during which time she had been very carefully watched, the princess was lying on the bed in the queen's own chamber, fast asleep. One of the windows was open, for it was noon, and the day so sultry that the little girl was wrapped in nothing less ethereal than slumber itself. The queen came into the room, and, not observing that the baby was on the bed, opened another window. A frolicsome fairy wind, which had been watching for a chance of mischief, rushed in at the one window, and, taking its way over the bed where the child was lying, caught her up, and rolling and floating her long like a piece of flue, or a dandelion-seed, carried her with it through the opposite window, and away. The queen went downstairs, quite ignorant of the loss she had herself occasioned. When the nurse returned, she supposed that her majesty had carried her off, and, dreading a scolding delayed making inquiry, about her. But, hearing nothing, she grew uneasy, and went at length to the queen's boudoir, where she found her majesty.
"'Please your majesty, shall I take the baby?' said she.
"'Where is she?' asked the queen.
"'Please forgive me. I know it was wrong.'
"'What do you mean?' said the queen looking grave.
"'Oh! don't frighten me, your majesty!' exclaimed the nurse, clasping her hands.
"The queen saw that something was amiss, and fell down in a faint. The nurse rushed about the palace, screaming, 'My baby! my baby!'
"Every one ran to the queen's room. But the queen could give no orders. They soon found out, however, that the princess was missing, and in a moment the palace was like a beehive in a garden. But in a minute more, the queen was brought to herself by a great shout and clapping of hands. They had found the princess fast sleep under a rosebush to which the wind puff had carried her, finishing its mischief by shaking a shower of red rose-leaves all over the little white sleeper. Startled by the noise the servants made, she woke; and furious with glee, scattered the rose-leaves in all directions, like a shower of spray in the sunset.
"She was watched more carefully after this, no doubt; yet it would be endless to relate all the odd incidents resulting from this peculiarity of the young princess. But there never was a baby in a house, not to say a palace, that kept a household in such constant good-humor, at least below stairs. If it was not easy for her nurses to hold her, certainly she did not make their arms ache. And she was so nice to play at ball with! There was positively no danger of letting her fall. You might throw her down, or knock her down, or push her down, but but you couldn't let her down. It is true, you might let her fly into the fire or the coal-hole, or through the window; but none of these accidents had happened as yet. If you heard peals of laughter resounding from some unknown region, you might be sure enough of the cause. Going down into the kitchen, or the room you would find Jane and Thomas, and Robert and Susan, all and sum, playing at ball with the little princess. She was the ball herself and did not enjoy it the less for that. Away she went, flying from one to another, screeching with laughter. And the servants loved the ball itself better even than the game. But they had to take care how they threw her, for, if she received an upward direction, she would never come down with out being fetched."
CHAPTER V
WHAT IS TO BE DONE
But above stairs it was different. One day, for instance, after breakfast, the king went into his counting-house, and counted out his money. The operation gave him no pleasure.
"'To think,' said he to himself, 'that every one of these gold sovereigns weighs a quarter of an ounce, and my real, live flesh-and- blood princess, weighs nothing at all!'
"And he hated his gold sovereigns, as they lay with a broad smile of self-satisfaction all over their yellow faces.
"The queen was in the parlor, eating bread and honey. But at the second mouthful, she burst out crying, and could not swallow it. The king heard her sobbing. Glad of anybody, but especially of his queen, to quarrel with, he dashed his gold sovereigns into his money-box, clapped his crown on his head, and rushed into the parlor.
"'What is all this about?' exclaimed he. 'What are you crying for, queen?'
"'I can't eat it,' said the queen, looking ruefully it the honey-pot.
"'No wonder!' retorted the king. 'You've just eaten your breakfast,– two turkey eggs, and three anchovies.'
"'Oh! that's not it!' sobbed her majesty. It's my child, my child!'
"' Well, what's the matter with your child? She's neither up the chimney nor down the draw-well. Just hear her laughing. Yet the king could not help a sigh, which he tried to turn into a cough, saying:—
"'It is a good thing to be light-hearted, I am sure, whether she be ours or not.'
"'It is a bad thing to be light-headed, answered the queen, looking, with prophetic soul, far into the future.
"'Tis a good thing to be light-handed,' said the king.
"'Tis a bad thing to be light-fingered,' answered the queen.
"'Tis a good thing to be light-footed,' said the king.
"'Tis a bad thing,' began the queen; but the king interrupted her.
"'In fact.' said he, with the tone of one who concludes an argument in which he has had only imaginary opponents, and in which, therefore, he has come off triumphant,—'in fact, it is a good thing altogether to be light-bodied.'
"'But it is a bad thing altogether to be light-minded.' retorted the queen, who was beginning to lose her temper.
"This last answer quite discomfited his majesty, who turned on his heel, and betook himself to his counting-house again. But he was not half-way towards it, when the voice of his queen, overtook him:—
"'And it's a bad thing to be light-haired," screamed she, determined to have more last words, now that her spirit was roused.
"The queen's hair was black as night; and the king's had been, and his daughter's was golden as morning. But it was not this reflection on his hair that troubled him; it was the doubled use of the word light. For the king hated all witticisms, and punning especially. And besides he could not tell whether the queen meant light-haired or light-heired; for why might she not aspirate her vowels when she was ex-asperated herself?"
"He turned upon his other heel, and rejoined her. She looked angry still, because she knew that she was guilty, or, what was much the same, knew that he thought so.
"'My dear queen,' said he, 'duplicity of any sort is exceedingly objectionable between married people, of any rank, not to say kings and queens; and the most objectionable form it can assume is that of punning.'
"'There!' said the queen, 'I never made a jest, but I broke it in the making. I am the most unfortunate woman in the world!'
"She looked so rueful, that the king took her in his arms; and they sat down to consult.
"'Can you bear this?' said the king.
"'No I can't,' said the queen.
"'Well, what is to be done?' said the king.
"'I'm sure I don't know,' said the queen. 'But might you not try an apology?'
"To my old sister, I suppose you mean?' said the king.
"'Yes,' said the queen.
"'Well, I don't mind,' said the king.
"So he went the next morning to the garret of the princess, and, making a very humble apology, begged her to undo the spell. But the princess declared, with a very grave face, that she knew nothing at all about it. Her eyes, however, shone pink, which was a sign that she was not happy. She advised the king and queen to have patience, and to mend their ways. The king returned disconsolate. The queen tried to comfort him.
"'We will wait till she is older. She may then be able to suggest something. She will know at least how she feels, and explain things to us.
"'But what if she should marry!' exclaimed the king, in sudden consternation at the idea.
"'Well, what of that?' rejoined the queen.
"'Just think? If she were to have any children! In the course of a hundred years the air might be as full of floating children as of gossamers in autumn.'
"'That is no business of ours,' replied the queen. 'Besides, by that time, they will have learned to take care of themselves.'
"A sigh was the king's only answer.
"He would have consulted the court physicians; but he was afraid they would try experiments upon her."
CHAPTER VI
SHE LAUGHS TOO MUCH
Meantime, notwithstanding awkward occurrences, and griefs that she brought her parents to, the little princess laughed and grew,—not fat, but plump and tall. She reached the age of seventeen, without having fallen into any worse scrape than a chimney; by rescuing her from which, a little bird-nesting urchin got fame and a black face. Nor, thoughtless as she was, had she committed any thing worse than laughter at everybody and everything that came in her way. When she heard that General Clanrunfort was cut to pieces with all his forces she laughed; when she heard that the enemy was on his way to besiege her papa's capital, she laughed hugely; but when she heard that the city would most likely be abandoned to the mercy of the enemy's soldiery,—why then she laughed immoderately. These were merely reports invented for the sake of experiment. But she never could be brought to see the serious side of anything. When her mother cried she said:—
"'What queer faces mamma makes! And she squeezes water out her cheeks?
Funny mamma!'
"And when her papa stormed at her, she laughed, and danced round and round him, clapping her hands, and crying:—
"'Do it again, papa. Do it again! It's such fun. Dear funny papa!'
"And if he tried to catch her, she glided from him in an instant; not in the least afraid of him, but thinking it part of the game not to be caught. With one push of her foot, she would be floating in the air above his head; or she would go dancing backwards and forwards and sideways, like a great butterfly. It happened several times, when her father and mother were holding a consultation about her in private, that they were interrupted by vainly repressed outbursts of laughter over their heads; looking up with indignation, saw her floating at full length in the air above them, whence she regarded them with the most comical appreciation of the position.
"One day an awkward accident happened. The princess had come out upon the lawn with one of her attendants, who held her by the hand. Spying her father at the other side of the lawn, she snatched her hand from the maid's and sped across to him. Now when she wanted to run alone her custom was to catch up a stone in each hand, so that she might come down again after a bound. Whatever she wore as part of her attire had no effect in this way; even gold, when it thus became as it were a part of herself, lost all its weight for the time. But whatever she only held in her hands retained its downward tendency. On this occasion she could see nothing to catch up, but a huge toad, that was walking across the lawn as if he had a hundred years to do it in. Not knowing what disgust meant, for this was one of her peculiarities, she snatched up the toad, and bounded away. She had almost reached her father, and he was holding out his arms to receive her and take from her lips the kiss which hovered on them like butterfly on a rosebud, when a puff of wind blew her aside into the arms of a young page, who had just been receiving a message from his majesty. Now it was no great peculiarity in the princess that once she was set a-going, it always cost her time and trouble to check herself. On this occasion there was no time. She must kiss,—and she kissed the page. She did not mind it much; for she had no shyness on his composition; and she knew, besides, that she could not help it. So she only laughed like a musical-box. The poor page fared the worst. For the princess, trying to correct the unfortunate tendency of the kiss, put out her hands to keep her off the page; so that, along with the kiss, he received on the other cheek a slap with a huge black toad, which she poked right into his eye. He tried to laugh too; but it resulted in a very odd contortion of countenance, which showed that there was no danger of him pluming himself on the kiss. Indeed it is not safe to be kissed by princesses. As for the king, his dignity was greatly hurt, and he did not speak to the page for a whole month.
"I may here remark that it was very amusing to see her run, if her mode of progression could properly be called running. For first, she would make a bound; then having alighted, she would run a few steps, and make another bound. Sometimes she would fancy she had reached the ground before she actually had, and her feet would go backwards and forwards, running upon nothing at all, like those of a chicken on its back. Then she would laugh like the very spirit of fun; only in her laugh there was something missing. What it was I find myself unable to describe. I think it was a certain tone, depending upon the possibility of sorrow,—morbidezza, perhaps. She never smiled."
CHAPTER VII
TRY METAPHYSICS
After a long avoidance of the painful subject, the king and queen resolved to hold a counsel of three upon it; and so they sent for the princess. In she came, sliding and flitting and gliding from one piece of furniture to another, and put herself at last in an arm chair, in a sitting posture. Whether she could be said to sit, seeing she received no support from the seat of the chair, I do not pretend to determine.
"'My dear child,' said the king, you must be aware that you are not exactly like other people.'
"'O you dear funny papa! I have got a nose and two eyes and all the rest. So have you. So has mamma.'
"'Now be serious, my dear, for once,' said the queen.
"'No, thank you, mamma; I had rather not.'
"'Would you not like to be able to walk like other people?' said the king.
"'No indeed, I should think not. You only crawl. You are such slow coaches!
"'How do you feel, my child?' he resumed, after a pause of discomfiture.
"'Quite well, thank you.'
"'I mean, what do you feel like?'
"'Like nothing at all, that I know of.'
"'You must feel like something.'
"'I feel like a princess, with such a funny papa and such a dear pet of a queen-mamma!'
"'Now really!" began the queen; but the princess interrupted her
"'Oh! yes,' she added, 'I remember. I have a curious feeling sometimes, as if I were the only person that had any sense in the whole world.'
"She had been trying to behave herself with dignity; but now she burst into a violent fit of laughter, threw herself backwards over the chair, and went rolling about the floor in an ecstasy of enjoyment. The king picked her up easier than one does a down quilt, and replaced her on her former relation to the chair. The exact preposition expressing this relation I do not happen to know.
"'Is there nothing you wish for?' resumed the king, who had learned by this time that it was quite useless to be angry with her.
"'O you dear papa!—yes,' answered she.
"'What is it, my darling?'
"'I have been longing for it,—oh such a time; Ever since last night.'
"'Tell me what it is.'
"'Will you promise to let me have it?'
"The king was on the point of saying yes; but the wiser queen checked him with a single motion of her head.
"'Tell me what it is first? said he.
"'No, no. Promise first'
"'I dare not What is it?'
"'Mind I hold you to your promise. It is—to be tied to the end of a string,—a very long string indeed, and be flown like a kite. Oh, such fun! I would rain rose-water, and hail sugar-plums, and snow whipt- cream, and, and, and—'
"A fit of laughing checked her; and she would have been off again, over the floor, had not the king started up and caught her just in time. Seeing that nothing but talk could be got out of her, he rang the bell, and sent her away with two of her ladies-in-waiting.
"'Now, queen,' he said, turning to her majesty, 'what is to be done?'
"'There is but one thing left,' answered she. 'Let us consult the college of metaphysicians.'
"'Bravo?' cried the king; 'we will.'
"Now at the head of this college were two very wise Chinese philosophers, by name, Hum-Drum, and Kopy-Keck. For them the king went, and straight-way they came. In a long speech, he communicated to them what they knew very well already,—as who did not?—namely, the peculiar condition of his daughter in relation to the globe on which she dwelt and requested them to consult together as to what might be the cause and probable cure of her infirmity. The king laid stress upon the word, but failed to discover his own pun. The queen laughed; but Hum-Drum and Kopy-Keck heard with humility and retired in silence. Their consultation consisted chiefly in propounding and supporting, for the thousandth time, each his favorite theories. For the condition of the princess afforded delightful scope for the discussion of every question arising from the the division of thought,– in fact of all the Metaphysics of the Chinese Empire. But it is only justice to say that they did not altogether neglect the discussion of the practical question, what was to be done?
"Hum-Drum was a Materialist, and Kopy-Keck was a Spiritualist. The former was slow and sententious; the latter was quick and flighty; the latter had generally the first word; the former the last.
"'I assert my former assertion.' began Kopy-Keck, with a plunge. 'There is not a fault in the princess, body, or soul; only they are wrong put together. Listen to me now, Hum-Drum, and I will tell in brief what I think. Don't speak. Don't answer me. I won't hear you till I have done. At that decisive moment, when souls seek their appointed habitations, two eager souls met, rebounded, lost their way, and arrived each at the wrong place. The soul of the princess was one of those, and she went far astray. She does not belong by rights to this world at all, but to some other planet, probably Mercury. Her proclivity to her true sphere destroys all the natural influence which this orb would otherwise possess over her corporeal frame. She cares for nothing here. There is no relation between her and this world.
"'She must therefore be taught, by the sternest compulsion, to take an interest in the earth as the earth. She must study every department of its history,—its animal history; its vegetable history; its mineral history; its social history; its moral history; its political history; its scientific history; its literary history; its musical history; its artistical history; above all, its metaphysical history. She must begin with the Chinese Dynasty, and end with Japan. But, first of all, she must study Geology, and especially the history of the extinct races of animals,—their natures, their habits their loves, their hates their revenges. She must—'
"'Hold, h-o-o-old!' roared Hum-Drum. 'It is certainly my turn now. My rooted and insubvertible conviction is that the cause of the anomalies evident in the princess' condition are strictly and solely physical. But that is only tantamount to acknowledging that they exist. Hear my opinion. From some cause or other, of no importance to our inquiry, the motion of her heart has been reversed. That remarkable combination of the suction and the force pump works the wrong way,—I mean in the case of the unfortunate princess: it draws in where it should force out, and forces out where it should draw in. The offices of the auricles and the ventricles are subverted. The blood is sent forth by the veins, and returns by the arteries. Consequently it is running the wrong way through all her corporeal organism,—lungs and all. Is it then at all mysterious, seeing that such is the case, that on the other particular of gravitation as well, she should differ from normal humanity? My proposal for the cure is this:—
"'Phlebotomize until she is reduced to the last point of safety. Let it be effected, if necessary, in a warm bath. When she is reduced to a state of perfect asphyxia, apply a ligature to the left ankle, drawing it as tight as the bone will bear. Apply, at the same moment, another of equal tension around the right wrist. By means of plates constructed for the purpose, place the other foot and hand under the receivers of two air-pumps. Exhaust the receivers. Exhibit a pint of French brandy, and await the result.'
"'Which would presently arrive in the form of grim Death, said Kopy-
Keck.
"'If it should, she would yet die in doing our duty,' retorted Hum-
Drum.
"But their majesties had too much tenderness for their volatile offspring to subject her to either of the schemes of the equally unscrupulous philosophers. Indeed, the most complete knowledge of the laws of nature would have been unserviceable in her case; for it was impossible to classify her. She was a fifth imponderable body, sharing all the other properties of the ponderable."