Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards

“ Well, this dwarf fell in love with her, and wanted to marry her. Yes, as you say, they always do. For a long time, a very long time, he did not dare to think of its being possible that she could love him. He would have been content—content and thankful—just to be her friend, just to be allowed to see her now and then, and take her hand, and feel her smile through and through him like wine. ”

“ Little paths wound here and there through the forest, as if some one walked in it a great deal. The trees in this part were mostly pine and hemlock, and the ground was covered with a thick carpet of brown needles. The hermit thrush called them from deeper depths of woodland; close by, squirrels frisked and chattered among the branches, and dropped bits of pine-cone on the child's head. Were they tame? she asked; the dwarf said she should judge for herself. ”

“ Wasn't that puffickly awful, dwarf?"
"It chills my marrow, Snow-white. Go on!"
"What is your marrow? what does it look like? why do you have it, if it gets cold so easy as that? I wouldn't! Well! So at last the Princess said she guessed she would marry the King of the Golden Mines, 'cause he was puffickly beautiful, and most prob'ly the old dwarf wouldn't dare to say a word when he found how beautiful he was, and strong and big and rich and everything."
"No!" said the dwarf, bitterly. "The poor dwarf would have no chance, certainly, against that kind of king. ”

“ At that the child laughed aloud, instead of screaming, as she had just been beginning to think she might; and then in a moment there was the dwarf, looking in at the green entrance, smiling and nodding at her.
"Oh, you dear dwarf!" said the child. "I am glad to see you. I forgotted where I was in this funny place. Isn't it a funny place, dwarf? how did you get here? what made you know about it? why don't you always live here all the time? what's that that's bright up there?"
Indeed, the hollow in the tree made a good-sized room enough, if a person were not too big. ”

“ If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there; if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea: even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me. Amen.'"
"Amen," said the child. "That's kind of a funny prayer, isn't it, Mark? I like that prayer. I think I'll have that for mine, 'stead of 'Now I lay me.' Mark!"
"Yes, Snow-white."
"Is you terrible glad I wasn't killed wiz that pistol key?"
"Yes, Snow-white; terrible glad!" ”

“ And—get me a couple of new rugs, thick, soft ones, the best you can find; and—oh! cushions; get a dozen or so cushions, satin and velvet; down pillows, you understand. What's the matter?"
The man whom he called Phillips was looking at him in a kind of terror that sent the dwarf into a sudden fit of laughter. He gave way to it for a few minutes, then restrained himself, and wiped his eyes with a fine handkerchief, like the one he had given the child. "Phillips, you certainly have the gift of amusing," he murmured. "I am not mad, my dear man; never was saner in my life, I assure you. ”

“ A man like you living this life—the life of an animal, sir—it's monstrous. Think of your interests, think of your estate, of all the people who looked to you; of—"
"By the way," said the dwarf again, "have you paid those legacies?"
"I know nothing about any legacies," replied the man, peevishly. "I'll have nothing to do with any such talk as that. When I see you dead and in your coffin, Mark Ellery, it'll be time enough to talk about legacies."
"I don't like coffins!" murmured the dwarf, looking up at the black hole in the great buttonwood tree. "I never intend—go on, Phillips. ”

“ Watching, the child saw him scatter the crumbs on the shining sward, and heard him cry in a curious kind of soft whistle:
"Coo! coo! coo!"
Immediately there was a great rustling all about; in the living green of the roof, in the yellow birches, but most of all in the vast depths of the buttonwood tree. In another moment the birds appeared, clouds and clouds of them, flying so close that their wings brushed each other; circling round and round the man, as he stood motionless under the great tree ”

“ Oh, I do love you! Who is that? is it a man? is he real? why like a doll does he look wiz his eyes? does he wind up behind? what for is his mouth open? can he speak?"
"No, he can't speak!" said the dwarf, laughing. "At least, he'd better not. It isn't good for his health,—is it, Phillips? See, Snow-white, the carriage has stopped now, and we will get in and go home to mamma. ”

“ The child considered him attentively. "I don't suppose you could get one, anyhow, do you?" she said. "Always, you know, the dwarfs try to get the princesses, but never they do. You never was yellow, was you?" she asked, with a sudden note of apprehension in her voice.
"No, Snow-white, never yellow; only green."
The child bubbled over. "Was you truly green?" she cried. "Isn't that funny, dwarf? and then you turned brown, didn't you? you don't suppose I'll turn brown, do you? because I ain't green, am I? but I was just thinking, suppose you should be the Yellow Dwarf, wouldn't it be awful?" ”

“ Now and then some sudden wave of instinct or purpose would run through all the great army of birds,—those in the buttonwood city, the robins struggling on the green, and far in the dim forest depths thrush and song-sparrow and warbler. ”

“ Most because you are nice, Mark, when those other dwarfs is yellow and horrid and all kinds of things."
"All right!" said the dwarf. "I love you, too. Now soon we are coming to the cow. We must hurry, Snow-white."
But it was not easy to hurry. He had to look and see how the ferns were unrolling, and to say what they looked like. The child thought they were like the little brown cakes, only green, what you bought them at the cake-shop. Didn't he know the cake-shop? but could he buy things? did they let dwarfs buy things just as if they were mans? ”

“ Well, the Prince came, and he was tall and handsome, wiz golden hair and blue eyes, and he was ever and ever so much richer than the dwarf; and so the Princess falled in love wiz him the minute she seed him, and he falled in love wiz her, too; and he said, 'This is my Princess!' and she said, 'This is my Prince!' Isn't that the way, Mark?"
"Precisely!" said the dwarf. "I couldn't have told it better myself, Snow-white; perhaps not so well. The Prince was richer, and handsomer, and younger, and that settled it. It always does, doesn't it?" ”

“ God who givest sight to the blind, and bringest the dead heart into life again—is this thy will, and has he won heaven so soon? What sound now from above? A bird, is it, waked from its sleep in fear? No! no bird ever sobbed in its throat; no bird ever cried through tears like this.
"Mark! I want you, Mark! Not killed I is, but I's frightened, and I want you, Mark, my Mark!"
When the child was going to bed that night the dwarf took her in his arms, and held her a long, long time, silent. Then he said: "Snow-white, I want you to say your prayer with me to-night."
"Wiz you, Mark? ”

“ The cushion of moss was thicker than any mattress ever made by man; altogether, a delightful place—always supposing one to be the right size. Now the dwarf and the child were exactly the right size, and there seemed no reason why they should not live here all their lives. ”

“ There was a frog, too, and he came and said things to me, but I kicked at him. He wasn't the Frog Prince, 'cause he had no gold spots on him. Do you know the Frog Prince? Does he live here in this river? Do you have gold balls when you play ball?"
"I'll get one," said the dwarf, recklessly. "It's no fun playing ball alone, but now we'll have one, I shouldn't wonder. How far did you come along the river, Snow-white?" ”

“ I'm sorry you frightened him away, Snow-white. If you had kept quiet, he would have sung you a pretty song. He isn't used to having people say 'Boo!' to him. He comes in every morning to see me, and sing me his best song."
"Are they all your birds?" queried the child. "Aren't you ever going to tell me how many you have? I don't think you are very polite. Miss Tyler says it's horrid rude not to answer questions."
"Miss Tyler is not here!" said the man, gravely. "I thought you said we were not to talk about her."
"So I did!" cried the child. "I say hurrah she isn't here, dwarf. ”

“ The leaves rustled, and the sound was hardly rougher than if all the flocks that nestled in its deep, airy bowers should plume themselves at once. The birds slept their noonday sleep with the child; even the titmouse was gone now to his siesta; but other wildwood creatures came and went at their ease across the green, hardly even glancing at the familiar gray figure curled up at the foot of the tree. That was where he often sat. It seemed stupid, when there were branches to swing on, pleasant burrows under the forest-mould ”

“ Yes, if mamma—and papa—are willing, we will come back now and then."
"Because the squirrels, you know, Mark!"
"Yes, I know."
"And the birds! do you think all day those crumbs will last them, do you? do you think Cousin Goldfinch understood when you asplained to him? do you think Simeon is lonely? poor Simeon! why don't you speak and tell me, Mark? Mark!"
"Well, Snow-white?"
"The cow!"
"What of her, my child?"
"Mark, who will milk her? you know—whisper!" She put her mouth to his ear. "You know real cows has to be milked; and we said she was real, both we did, Mark!" ”

“ He laughed; not his usual melodious chuckle, but the short harsh note that the child compared to a bark.
"Why not?" he said. "It's all in the family!"
He opened a deep carved chest that stood in a corner; the smell that came from it was sweet and old, and seemed to belong to far countries. He hunted in the corners, and presently brought out a folded paper, soft and foreign looking. This he opened, and took out, and shook out, a shawl or scarf of Eastern silk, pale blue, covered with butterflies and birds in bright embroidery. ”

“ She looked at him with marked disapproval. "It isn't the way they do!" she explained. "Why, when the Bear came to Snow-white and Rosy Red's house, he told them stories all the time till he turned into a prince."
"Yes, but I am not a bear," said the dwarf, "and I am not going to turn into a prince, you see. However, I will tell you a story, Snow-white, I truly will; only, you see, that poor cow has to be milked."
"All I forgot her!" cried the child. "Now we will hurry, Mark, and run. We will run all the way. You can't run much faster than me, 'cause your legs is short, too. Are you glad? I am! ”

“ A self-respecting titmouse, who provides over two hundred grubs a day for himself and his family, may well be content to live in his own city, the murmuring, rustling place where grubs lie close on the bough and under the bark, and where flies are ready for the bill; he has no need to pierce the friendly earth, and drag up her unsightly creeping things, to swallow piecemeal. A titmouse has his opinion of robins, though he is on intimate terms with most birds in the forest. ”

“ The dwarf made a movement of impatience. "Old people!" he said. "Why shouldn't they die? Who cares whether they die or live, except themselves and their heirs? Are there no—young people—left in the place?"
Phillips pondered. ”

“ She was a brave child; she was hungry, and her legs and feet ached; but she pushed on cheerfully, sometimes talking and singing, sometimes silent, making her way through the tangle of ferns and hanging branches; following the brook, because there was a little boy in the newspaper that her papa read, and he got lost, and just he followed the brook, and it brought him right along to where there were people, and he had blackberries all the way. She looked for blackberries, but they are hard to find in early May, except in the Fairy Books. ”

“ The child whose dainty hat, dripping and broken, but still half-filled with flowers, had this very day been brought to the distracted woman who now lay prone on her velvet couch, waking from one swoon only to shriek and moan and shudder away into another,—for in most women the mother nature wakes sooner or later, only sometimes it is too late. ”

“ Not content with the forest itself, some families—I think they were ruby-crowned wrens and bluebirds—had made their nests in the creepers that matted the roof of the hut with green; and the great buttonwood was a positive metropolis, densely populated with titmice, warblers, and flycatchers of every description. If anybody lived in the stone hut, he would not want for company, what with the birds and the squirrels, and the woodchucks that came and went across the little green as unconcernedly as if it were their own front dooryard. ”

“ It seems a pity to wake her; she sleeps very sweetly. Oh, I would gladly keep her, and I think it might not be difficult; at least, she has never tried to run away; but we are old neighbours, and I thought it right to let you know that she was here.'
"Then to wake the child, and bring her down, flushed with her lovely sleep, clinging with both arms round my neck—no horror of the hateful dwarf, no shrinking; the little velvet cheek pressed against my brown, rough face, the sweet eyes looking at me—me, Mark Ellery—with love in them. Yes, by Heaven, love ”

“ When I come to some fairies I'll make more. When I am big, I'll talk that way all the time, wiz poetry in it."
She was silent for a few minutes, watching the bubbles that came sailing down the stream. Most of the way they were clear like glass, with a little rim of foam where they joined on, she thought; but when they came to a certain place, where a shaft of yellow light came down and made sparkles on the water, every bubble turned rainbow colour, most beautiful. Only, some of them would go the wrong way, over into the shadow. ”

“ Why, when the Princess and the King was going to be married, all in gold and silver, wiz roses and candy and everything lovely, they saw a box coming along, and an old woman was on it and she said she was the Desert Fairy, and the Yellow Dwarf was her friend, and they shouldn't get married. ”

“ So the trees rustled and quivered with wings, and rang with song, all day long, except in the hot sleepy noons, when most respectable birds keep within nests, and only the woodthrush from time to time sends out his few perfect notes, to show that all times are alike to the true singer. ”