Part 3

So they all flew away, some in one direction and some in another, while the Dear Princess of the Crystal Mountain sat and waited, with her cloud of hair hanging round her.

Very soon she saw them flying back, some from gardens and some from orchards, and some from the hills where the heather grew, and some from country lanes where the flowers were very sweet, and some from hothouses where the flowers were very rare. Wherever they came from they were all laden with flowers. Some brought roses, red and white and yellow; some brought heavy white lilies; some brought long trails of honeysuckle. Some were carrying great bundles of forget-me-nots; others had strange flowers from distant countries; others had bunches of golden daffodils. They crowded round the Dear Princess, and laid the flowers in great heaps beside her.

"Wear my roses!" cried one. "See how the crimson of them glows in your dark hair!"

"Wear my daffodils!" cried another. "See how they shine like gold!"

"Wear my lilies!" cried a third, "for they match your lily-face!"

Then they all held up the flowers against the Princess's dark hair, to see which looked the best; red, or yellow, or white. The Princess herself found it very hard to make up her mind, because they were all so beautiful that she would have liked to wear them all. First she chose one, and then another, and then she thought that, after all, a third would look the best.

This went on for so long that at last the flowers died.

"Ah, look," said the Princess, "the flowers are dead!"

"Oh dear, oh dear!" cried all the fairies together. "The flowers are dead! What shall we do now?"

The Princess sat down among the dead flowers, and thought.

"I must have something that will not die," she said at last, "something stronger than flowers. In my dark hair I must have something that will gleam and sparkle. I must have colour that will not fade, a dewdrop that will not melt, a spark of fire that will not go out."

"Dear me!" said the fairies; and they said no more for some time, for they were thinking that the Dear Princess wanted a good deal.

After a time three of them began talking together all at once, as if a very good idea had suddenly come into their heads.

Then these three spread their wings and flew away. They flew far away from the Princess and her palace, far from the other fairies, up and up to the heights of the Crystal Mountain. Then each of them chipped off a little piece of the rock at the top of the mountain, and each, as he did it, laughed aloud gleefully. Then each little fairy tucked his chip of rock under his arm; and they all nodded to each other, still laughing, and spread their wings again, and flew off in different directions.

The first of the three, with his chip of rock under his arm, flew straight to the sea-shore. On the shore, close to the shining blue sea, there lived a very nice mermaid who was a great friend of the fairy's. So he flew to her with the bit of crystal rock and said--

"Mermaid, mermaid, here is a chip from the Crystal Mountain. Take it for me, and dip it into the darkest and deepest deep of the blue sea."

So the mermaid took the crystal chip and dived down with it into the darkest and deepest deep of the blue sea.

Now, it is well known that whatever is touched by the deepest deep of the sea is changed by it for ever, and becomes itself a part of the sea. And so, when the mermaid brought the chip of crystal back to the fairy it had become like a chip of the sea--shining and gleaming and deep, deep blue.

And that was the first sapphire.

And when the second fairy left the Crystal Mountain with his little bit of rock under his arm, he flew to the great forest where the wood-pixies lived.

"Pixies, pixies," he called to them, "here is a chip from the Crystal Mountain. Take it for me into the darkest and deepest deep of the green forest, and do not bring it back to me till the green of the forest has sunk into its very heart."

Of course you must have noticed that the wood-pixies have the gift of making things green; for every one knows that in the forest where they live everything is green--the trees and the grass and the soft moss. And the shade under the trees is dark, dark green, and here and there where the sun peeps through, the green is very bright. So the pixies took the chip of crystal away with them into the darkest deep of the forest and laid it in the green moss where the green shadows were darkest under the green trees. And after a time the magic of the pixies began to work, and the greenness of the forest sank into the very heart of the crystal. Then they carried it back to the fairy, and he saw that the greenness of the deep shadows had sunk into the heart of the crystal, and because the sunshine had peeped through the trees there was a glint of light in it.

And that was the first emerald.

When the third fairy left the Crystal Mountain with his little bit of rock under his arm, he flew away to that other mountain where the fire-gnomes worked underground. At the top of the fire-mountain there was a great hole, and when the fairy stood at the edge and looked in he could see the gnomes at work, keeping the fire alight that warms the world. So he called out to them--

"Fire-gnomes, fire-gnomes, here is a chip from the Crystal Mountain. Take it for me into the hottest and deepest deep of the fire, and keep it there until its heart is glowing red."

So the fire-gnomes took the chip of crystal and carried it down, down into the deepest deep of the fire that warms the world. And the fire sparkled and glowed and wrapped it round. And before very long the crystal began to glow too as it lay in the fire, for of course a fire that is hot enough to warm the world is hot enough to warm a chip of rock. So the fire-gnomes picked it up again and carried it back to the fairy who was waiting at the edge of the great hole; and he saw that the heart of the crystal chip was crimson and glowing like a fire.

And that was the first ruby.

Then he flew away from the fire-mountain with the ruby safely tucked under his arm, and went back to the Dear Princess. At the same moment the fairy with the emerald arrived from the forest, and the fairy with the sapphire came back from the sea. They flew to the feet of the Dear Princess, and held out the beautiful stones to her.

The Princess clapped her hands and cried--

"Oh, how splendid, how splendid they are! The blue is like a bit of the dark sea, and the green is like the shade of the forest with the sun peeping in, and the red is like the red heart of the fire!"

Then the first fairy laid the sapphire against her dark hair.

"You must wear it on your wedding-day," he said.

But the second fairy held up the emerald and said--

"No, no, this is what you must wear!"

And the third fairy laughed and cried--

"How silly they are! Any one can see that red is the colour to wear in your dark hair!"

The Princess looked from one to the other and was puzzled. She thought all the stones were so beautiful that she would have liked to wear them all; but she did not think they would look really nice all together.

"What am I to do?" she said, puckering up her forehead. "How can I choose when they are all so beautiful?"

Then there was a very long discussion about it. Each of the three fairies wished his own stone to be worn, and the Princess could not tell what to do.

"Each of them is quite beautiful," she said, "but, dear fairies, I am obliged to say that I do _not_ like the look of them all together!"

All this time a very small fairy had been sitting quietly in the corner, saying nothing, but thinking a great deal. He came forward now and spoke.

"Give the stones to me," he said, "and I will settle the question."

So he took the three stones and flew away, far up into the sky, above the Princess's dark head, above the houses and the trees, above the Crystal Mountain even, into the misty sunshine behind the clouds.

Then he called to the sun-fairies--

"Sun-fairies, sun-fairies, melt me these stones in your furnace. Melt them, and mix them, and make them into one stone. And soften their colours with mist of sunshine, so that my Dear Princess may wear them all together in her hair."

So the sun-fairies carried the three stones away, and melted them all into one, and mixed them with mist of sunshine, and it lay over the colours like a cloud. And then there was only one stone, but it was a great big one, and as beautiful as all the others put together. For, you see, that was just what it was.

The small fairy took it carefully into his tiny arms and flew down again through the clouds, past the Crystal Mountain and past the tops of the trees, to the feet of the Dear Princess.

He held up the great gleaming stone to her, and she thought she had never seen anything so beautiful. For the blue of the sea was in it, and the green shade of the forest, and the red heart of fire. And over the colours the mist of sunshine lay like a veil.

And that was the first opal.

Of course the Dear Princess of the Crystal Mountain wore the great opal on the day that she was married to the Prince of the Far Land over the Hill. And when she was an old, old Princess, with white hair instead of dark, she often showed the opal to her grandchildren, and told them how it was made of blue sea, and green shadows, and fire, melted all together by the fairies and mixed with mist of sunshine.

_THE BIG SPIDER'S DIAMONDS_

The sun-fairies were hiding behind a black cloud; but in the middle of the cloud there was a hole, and through this hole the sun-fairies peeped.

In this way they were able to see everything that went on in the garden where the Big Spider lived. If the Big Spider had looked up at the sky he could have seen the sun-fairies peeping through the hole in the black cloud; but he did not look up, because he was thinking of other things. He was in an excited state of mind.

Quite lately the Big Spider had spun a most beautiful web for himself, and had slung it between two tall blades of grass. He was very proud of it, for it was the nicest web in all the garden, being of a lovely and difficult pattern, and made with great skill. And now something had happened in the night to make it still more beautiful. While the Big Spider was asleep the dew-fairies had crept up from the grass, and had hung hundreds of sparkling diamonds on the strings of his web. He knew it must have been done by the dew-fairies, because they only keep the very best diamonds.

"Dear me, this is most kind of them," he said to himself. "They must have noticed that my web was the best in the garden; otherwise they would not have done it so much honour."

As a matter of fact, the dew-fairies had been hanging diamonds that night on the webs of all the spiders in the garden; but the Big Spider was so much occupied in admiring his own web that he had no attention to spare for the others.

"Good morning," he said pleasantly to a fly who was passing. "Have you seen my diamonds? They look very well there, don't they? They show off the pattern of the web. Won't you come a little closer? You can hardly see them properly at that distance. One really sees them best when one is inside the web. Can't you come in this morning?"

"No, thank you," said the fly firmly; for his mother had told him that the Big Spider was not a nice friend for little flies.

Then he flew away, and the Spider went on admiring his diamonds. He looked at them first from the right, and then from the left, and then he stepped backwards and looked at them again. If you have ever seen a person who paints pictures you will know exactly how he behaved.

All this time the sun-fairies had been peeping through the hole in the black cloud and watching the Big Spider. They could not help laughing at him.

"Ridiculous creature!" cried one. "Look at him admiring his web, as if it were the only one that had ever been hung with diamonds!"

"If he would look about him a little bit," said another, "he would see that the whole garden is blazing with diamonds this morning."

"The very grass is all twinkly and shiny with them," said a third, "but the grass-fairies are not behaving in that absurd way."

"No fairy would be so silly," said a fourth.

Suddenly a little sun-fairy began to clap his hands.

"I've got an idea," he cried.

As his ideas were generally full of mischief and very interesting, all the other fairies stopped talking.

"It's a lovely idea," he went on, chuckling. "This is what we'll do. We'll wait till that silly old Spider goes to sleep or is busy, and then we'll rush down--quick as quick--and _steal his diamonds_!"

Then all the sun-fairies laughed and clapped their hands so loudly that the hole in the black cloud grew a good deal larger. They thought it was a grand idea.

They had not long to wait. Presently the Spider became rather tired of admiring his diamonds all by himself, so he set to work to send out invitations for a fly-party. He asked all the flies in the neighbourhood to come and see how nice his web looked when it was hung with diamonds. As soon as the sun-fairies saw that he was busy they took each other's hands, and with a little run and a big jump they all burst through the hole in the black cloud. Then they flew softly down to the garden where the Big Spider lived.

"How nice and warm it is getting!" thought the Spider.

Presently he said to himself--

"My diamonds must be sparkling beautifully in this sunshine. I'll just take a look at them."

He turned round, expecting to see the pattern of his web delicately outlined in sparks of light. You will not be surprised to hear that he saw nothing of the kind. He saw his web, it is true, looking like filmy lace against the green of the grass; but there was not one single diamond hanging upon it!

Then the rage of the Big Spider was terrible to see.

He stamped with all his legs, and he rolled himself round and round, and he used all the most dreadful threats in spider-language.

"I don't care who the thief is," he said; "I shall think no more of eating him than if he were a fly!"

At that moment he heard the sweetest little laugh just behind him. This made him so angry that he spent a long time in looking for the person who laughed. While he was still searching the sun-fairies flew up again to the black clouds, carrying the diamonds with them.

"There," they said, as they threw the diamonds down on the cloud, "he won't find them there!"

They had forgotten for the moment that, hidden in the black cloud, there were a great number of rain-fairies. Now the rain-fairies never enjoy themselves so much as when they are annoying the sun-fairies: and in the same way there is nothing that pleases the sun-fairies so much as a good quarrel with the rain-fairies. This does not prevent them from being very friendly when they are not quarrelling.

The rain-fairies had seen all that had happened. They pretended to think that the sun-fairies had behaved very unkindly to the Big Spider.

"It's too bad," they said, "to steal the poor thing's diamonds. It's not fair. Let's throw them down to him."

Then a great fight began between the sun-fairies and the rain-fairies for the diamonds, and the fight lasted a long time, and all the time that it lasted the Big Spider was in a rage.

At last the rain-fairies won the fight, and went off with the diamonds in their arms.

"Now we'll throw them to the Big Spider," they said, "and we'll see how glad he is when his web is hung with diamonds as it was before."

They forgot that the dew-fairies, when they had trimmed the web with the diamonds, had crept up softly and touched the strings with gentle fingers. But the rain-fairies are rather rough.

They flung out their little arms and threw the diamonds down out of the black cloud. Down dropped the diamonds, and down, and down, till they reached the garden where the Big Spider lived, and the web that the Big Spider had made. But instead of hanging on the web in rows, like little lighted lamps, they dropped into the middle of it with a crash and a dash and a splash, and broke it into a great many pieces, so that the web and the diamonds and the Big Spider himself all fell to the ground.

And by the time the Big Spider was standing on all his legs again the diamonds had disappeared into the grass.

The truth is that the dew-fairies had found them and had taken them home. I expect they will keep them till the Big Spider has made a new web.

_A LITTLE GIRL IN A BOOK_

Christabel was a little girl who read a great many books. She noticed that the girls and boys in the books were not altogether like the girls and boys who played with her in the Square and came to tea with her. The children in the books were wonderfully brave and clever; and when they were having their magnificent adventures they always did exactly the right thing at the right moment. They never had a dull minute, and they never said anything silly. The girls and boys who came to tea with Christabel were not like this, and Christabel knew that she herself was not like this. She never had any adventures, and she knew that even if she ever did have one she would not behave at all bravely or cleverly. And she was often so dull that she drummed with her fingers on the window and said--

"What on earth shall I do?"

Now, Christabel had a Big Sister who wrote books.

One day she said to her Big Sister--

"How I do wish I were a little girl in a book! Nothing ever happens to little girls in real life. It is so dull!"

The Big Sister went on writing, and said nothing.

"It's no use talking to her," thought Christabel, "because she always goes on writing."

A few days after this Christabel began to feel rather strange. A kind of stiffness came into all her limbs, so that they would not do what she told them. And sometimes she found herself saying things that she had not intended to say at all. This puzzled her and made her very uncomfortable. She wondered if other people noticed that there was something wrong with her. She even thought of speaking to her Big Sister about it, but the Big Sister was so busy writing that it was no use to try and make her hear.

This went on for some time. Christabel grew stiffer and stiffer, and more and more uncomfortable; and her Big Sister went on writing busily.

At last one day Christabel understood what had happened. She woke up and found that everything round her had changed; the people and the place and everything. She was frightened at first, and then the truth suddenly flashed into her mind. A most remarkable and unusual and unexpected thing had happened: her Big Sister had put her into a book!

"So I really am a little girl in a book, after all!" she said to herself.

She tried to say it aloud, but she found she couldn't. The words were not in the book, you see.

"Now I am going to enjoy myself," she thought, "and never be dull any more."

There was not much chance of her being dull, for the book was full of adventures and narrow escapes, and other delightful things.

First she was captured by pirates; and after having a terrible time with them she was saved from them by a shipwreck. The shipwreck did not do her much good, however, for she at once fell into the hands of the most dreadful savages. So you will understand that she was not at all likely to be dull.

Christabel was delighted to find that she behaved, like other little girls in books, with the greatest courage and cleverness. Whenever an adventure was going on she always managed to get out of every difficulty, and she saved the lives of several of the other people in the book by her bravery. The strange thing was that she found it quite easy to be brave; while she was a little girl in real life she had not found it easy at all.

"I do hope the book has a happy ending," she thought sometimes.

She wished very much that she could peep into the end of the book, as she used to do when she was a little girl in real life. Meantime every chapter was more exciting than the last. Of course Christabel did not know whether she would escape from the savages at all. Perhaps they were going to eat her. That would not be a happy ending to the book, she felt.

After a great many terrible dangers, she managed to escape; for a ship sailed into the bay at the right moment, and took her home to England. This was the end of the book. The person who was reading it shut it up with a bang--and Christabel went to sleep.

By-and-by, some one else took up the book and began to read it. Then Christabel woke up and found herself at the beginning of the story. After so many adventures she was rather tired, and did not feel inclined to begin them all over again. But that was just what she had to do. Being captured by pirates is not nearly so exciting when you know you can only escape from them by a cold, wet shipwreck; and when you are shipwrecked you are not very anxious to scramble ashore when you know there are a large number of fierce savages waiting for you!

"This is rather tiresome," thought Christabel.

She was very glad when the person who was reading the book shut it up again, and she was allowed to go quietly to sleep.

But her sleep was not long. Every time any one began to read the book poor Christabel was obliged to wake up and go through all her troubles again. She soon became horribly tired of being shipwrecked.

"Have I got to spend the rest of my life with pirates and savages?" she asked herself in despair.

It was especially annoying that they were always the same pirates and savages, who said always exactly the same things. Christabel soon knew the whole book by heart. She wished sometimes she could be one of the pirates for a change, instead of being always a little girl.

"I suppose I shall never even be grown up," she thought sadly.

The most unpleasant thing of all was that she was never able to say what she wished to say: she was always obliged to say what was in the book. Sometimes she opened her mouth to say what was in her mind, and then found herself speaking words that had nothing to do with her thoughts.

"It is simply hateful not to be able to say and do what one likes," she thought.

She made up her mind to try and be drowned at the very next shipwreck. Of course it was useless for her to try, for the book said she was saved by a big wave which flung her up on a rock. It was uncomfortable for her to be saved in this way, but she could not avoid it. The shipwreck happened in the usual way, in spite of her efforts to be drowned; and then, as usual, she met the savages on the Island, and soon afterwards came the end of the book.

Now, it happened this time that the person who was reading the book did not shut it up at all, but handed it at once to some one else who wished to read it. This was really too much for Christabel's temper. She had had no sleep, and she was determined not to begin all over again without a rest. It suddenly struck her that this was her only chance--now, before the beginning of the first chapter.

She lost no time. She knew she ought to be standing up--the book said she was standing up. Finding to her great joy that she was able to move of her own accord, she calmly sat down and folded her arms. The other people in the book looked at her in surprise.

"It's no use looking at me like that," she said; "I'm tired of this. I'm not going on any more saying the same things over and over again. If there's any pirate who would like to change places with me I don't mind being a pirate for a bit. But I'm not going on being the little girl."