Helen of the Old House | Page 7

asked Maggie.
The Interpreter laughed softly. "Yes, indeed, often. You see I worked in the Mill, too, in those days, Maggie, with her father and Peter Martin and--"
"That was when yer had yer real, sure-nuff legs, wasn't it?" the boy interrupted.
"Yes, Bobby. And every Sunday, almost, I used to be at the old house where the little princess lady lived, or at the Martin home next door, and Helen and John and Charlie and Mary and I would always have such good times together."
Little Maggie's face shone with appreciative interest. "An' did yer tell them fairy stories sometimes?"
"Sometimes."
The little girl sighed and tried to get still closer to the man in the wheel chair. "I like fairies, don't yer?"
"Indeed, I do," he answered heartily.
"Skinny and Chuck, they said yer tol' them stories, too."
The Interpreter laughed quietly. "I expect perhaps I did."
"I don't suppose yer know any fairy stories right now, do yer?"
"Let me see," said the Interpreter, seeming to think very hard. "Why, yes, I believe I do know one. It starts out like this: Once upon a time there was a most beautiful princess, just like your princess lady, who lived in a most wonderful palace. Isn't that the way for a fairy story to begin?"
"Uh-huh, that's the way. An' then what happened?"
With a great show of indifference the boy drew near and stretched himself on the floor on the other side of the old basket maker's chair.
"Well, this beautiful princess in the story, perhaps because she was so beautiful herself, loved more than anything else in all the world to have lots and lots of jewels. You know what jewels are, don't you?"
"Uh-huh, the princess lady she has 'em--heaps of 'em. I seen her onct close, when she was a-gettin' into her autermobile, in front of one of them big stores."
"Well," continued the story-teller, "it was strange, but with all her diamonds and pearls and rubies and things there was one jewel that the princess did not have. And, of course, she wanted that one particular gem more than all the others. That is the way it almost always is, you know."
"Huh," grunted Bobby.
"What was that there jewel she wanted?" asked Maggie.
"It was called the jewel of happiness," answered the Interpreter, "because whoever possessed it was sure to be always as happy as happy could be. And so, you see, because she did not have that particular jewel the princess did not have as good times as such a beautiful princess, living in such a wonderful palace, with so many lovely things, really ought to have.
"But because this princess' heart was kind, a fairy appeared to her one night, and told her that if she would go down to the shore of the great sea that was not far from the castle, and look carefully among the rocks and in the sand and dirt, she would find the jewel of happiness. Then the fairy disappeared--poof! just like that."
Little Maggie squirmed with thrills of delight. "Some story, I'd say. An' then what happened?"
"Why, of course, the very next day the princess went to walk on the seashore, just as the fairy had told her. And, sure enough, among the rocks and in the sand and dirt, she found hundreds and hundreds of bright, shiny jewels. And she picked them up, and picked them up, and picked them up, until she just couldn't carry another one. Then she began to throw away the smaller ones that she had picked up at first, and to hunt for larger ones to take instead. And then, all at once, right there beside her, was a poor, ragged and crooked old woman, and the old woman was picking up the ugly, dirt-colored pebbles that the princess would not touch.
"'What are you doing, mother?' asked the beautiful princess, whose heart was kind.
"And the crooked old woman answered, 'I am gathering jewels of happiness on the shore of the sea of life.'
"'But those ugly, dirty pebbles are not jewels, mother,' said the lady. 'See, these are the jewels of happiness.' And she showed the poor, ignorant old woman the bright, shiny stones that she had gathered.
"And the crooked old crone looked at the princess and laughed--a curious, creepy, crawly, crooked laugh.
"Then the old woman offered to the princess one of the ugly, dirt-colored pebbles that she had gathered. 'Take this, my dear,' she croaked, 'and wear it, and you shall see that I am right--that this is the jewel of happiness.'
"Now the beautiful princess did not want to wear that ugly, dirt-colored stone--no princess would, you know. But, nevertheless, because her heart was kind and she saw that the poor, crooked old woman would feel very bad if her gift was not accepted, she took the dull, common pebble and put it with the bright, shiny jewels