Part 4 (1/2)
”If you should, my dear, you will wake in season; but take your choice.”
”Thank you, mother, but I choose to stay here.”
At these words the fairy vanished, and Rosebud was left alone, looking at the dear little flower, which seemed to grow fresher and fresher, and more and more beautiful every minute, and wondering whether it would be so with her dear mamma; and then she fell a-thinking about her home, and how much trouble she had given her mother, and how much better she would always be, after she had got back to her once more; and then she fell asleep, and slept so soundly that she did not wake till the sun was up, and it was time to water the flower.
At first she was terribly frightened; but when she remembered what the fairy told her, she began to feel comfortable, and, lest something might happen, she took a little sea-sh.e.l.l that lay there, and running down to the water, dipped it up full, and was on her way back, thinking how happy her poor dear mamma would feel if she could only know _what_ it was and _who_ it was that made her so much better, when she heard the strangest and sweetest noises all about her in the air, as if the whole sky were full of the happiest and merriest creatures! and when she looked up, lo! there was a broad glitter to be seen, as if the whole population of Fairy-land were pa.s.sing right over her head, making a sort of path like that you see at sunrise along the blue deep, when the waters are motionless, and smooth, and clear.
”Well,” said she, looking up, ”I _do_ wonder where they are going so fast”--and then she stopped--”and I do think they might be civil enough just to let a body know; I dare say 'tis the coronation, or the b.u.t.terfly hunt, or the tournament, or the--oh, how I should like to be there!”
No sooner was the wish uttered, than she found herself seated in a high gallery, as delicately carved as the ivory fans of the East; with diamonds and ostrich-feathers all about and below her, and a prodigious crowd a.s.sembled in the open air,--with the lists open--a trumpet sounding--and scores of knights armed cap-a-pie, and mounted on dragon-flies, waiting for the charge. All eyes were upon her, and everybody about was whispering her name, and she never felt half so happy in her life; and she was just beginning to compare the delicate embroidery of her wings with that of her next neighbor, a sweet little Fairy, who sat looking through her fingers at a youthful champion below, and pouting, and pouting, as if she wanted everybody to know that he had jilted her, when she happened to see a little forget-me-not embroidered on his beaver; and she instantly recollected her promise, and cried out, ”Oh, mamma! mamma!” and wished herself back again, where she might sit by the flower and watch over it, and never leave it, never! till her three days of trial were ended.
In a moment, before she could speak a word, or even make a bow to the nice little boy-fairy, who had just handed her up her glove on the point of a lance like a sunbeam, she found herself seated by the flower. Poor little thing! It was too late! Every blossom had fallen off but one, and that looked unhealthy, and trembled when she breathed upon it. She thought of her mamma, and fancied she could see them carrying her up to bed, and all the doctors there, and n.o.body able to tell what ailed her; and she threw herself all along upon the gra.s.s, and wished all the fairies at the bottom of the Red Sea, and herself with them! And when she looked up, what do you think she saw? and where do you think she was? why, she was at the bottom of the Red Sea, and all the wonders of the Red Sea were about her,--chariots and chariot-wheels and the skeletons of war-horses, and mounted warriors, with heaps of glittering armor, and jewels of silver, and jewels of gold, and banner, and s.h.i.+eld, and spear, with millions and millions of little sea-fairies, and Robin Goodfellows, and giants and dwarfs, and the funniest looking monsters you ever did see; and the waters were all bright with fairy-lamps that were alive, and with ribbons that were alive, and with changeable flowers that swam about and whispered to each other in a language of their own; and there were great heaps of pearl washed up into drifts and ridges, and a pile of the strangest-looking old-fas.h.i.+oned furniture, of gold and ivory, and little mermaids with their dolls not longer than your finger, with live fishes for tails, jumping about and playing hide-and-seek with the sun-spots and star-fishes, and the striped water-snakes of the Indian seas--the most brilliant and beautiful of all the creatures that live there.
And while she was looking about her, and wondering at all she saw, she happened to think once more of the _forget-me-not_, and to wish herself back again! At that instant she heard a great heavy bell booming and tolling--she knew it was tolling--and she knew she was too late--and she knew that her mother was dead of a broken heart,--and she fell upon her face, and stretched forth her hands with a shriek, and prayed G.o.d to forgive her! and allow her to see her mother once more--only once more!
”Why, what ails the child?” whispered somebody that seemed to be stooping over her.
It was her mother's voice! and poor Ruth was afraid to look up, lest it should all vanish forever.
”Upon my word, Sarah,” said another voice,--it was her father's; ”upon my word, Sarah, I do not know; but the poor little creature's thoughts appear to have undergone another change. I have heard nothing to-day of the forget-me-not which troubled her so the first week, have you?”
”She has mentioned it but once to-day, and then she shuddered; but perhaps we had better keep it in the gla.s.s till we see whether it will bear to be transplanted, for she seems to have set her little heart upon having that flower live; I wish I knew why!”
”Do you, indeed, mamma?” whispered poor Ruth, still without looking up; ”well, then, I will tell you. That flower was given me by a fairy to make me remember my promises to you, my poor, dear, dead mamma; and so long as I water that, every day at the same hour, so long I shall be growing better and better, and my poor dear mamma--boo-hoo! boo-hoo!”
and the little thing began to cry as if she would break her heart.
”Why, this is stranger than all,” said the father. ”I can't help thinking the poor child would be rational enough now, if she hadn't read so many Fairy-books; but what a mercy it was, my dear Sarah, and how shall we ever be thankful enough, that you happened to be down there when she fell into the water.”
”Ah!” Ruth Page began to hold her breath, and listen with the strangest feeling.
”Yes, Robert; but I declare to you I am frightened whenever I think of the risk I ran by letting her fall in, head first, as I did.”
Poor Ruth began lifting her head by little and little, and to feel about, and pinch herself, to see if she was really awake, or only dreaming.
”And then, too, just think of this terrible fever, and the strange, wild poetry she has been talking, day after day, about Fairy-land.”
”Poetry! Fudge, Robert, fudge!”
Ruth looked up, full of amazement and joy, and whispered, ”Fudge, father, fudge!” and the very next words that fell from her trembling lips as she sat looking at her mother, and pointing at a little bunch of forget-me-nots in full flower, that her mother had kept for her in a gla.s.s by the window, were these: ”Oh, mother! dearest mother! what a terrible dream I have had!”
”Hush, my love, hus.h.!.+ and go to sleep, and we will talk this matter over when you are able to bear it.”
”Goody gracious, mamma!”
”There she goes again!” cried the father; ”now we shall have another fit!”
”Hush, hush, my love! you must go to sleep, now, and not talk any more.”
”Well, kiss me, mamma, and let me have your hand to go to sleep with, and I'll try.”