Part 4

With a feeling of indignation he pressed forward into their midst.

"What is your difficulty, sir?" he said quietly and respectfully.

The stranger blushed and faltered, then he stammeringly said:--

"I-I-I ca-ca-canno-no-not sp-speak your language wi-wi-withou-ou-out st--st-stammering."

At this the men roared with laughter. Again Blessed-Eyes turned an angry look upon them, and quietly slipping his arm through the stranger's he said: "Will you walk with me? I have something to say to you." And the two walked off together, leaving the crowd rather abashed and ashamed of its rudeness. When they had gone some distance in silence, Blessed-Eyes said: "As soon as I saw you I noticed you had strong, shapely and artistic hands. Surely you must be able to draw and paint." The stranger's face lighted up with a radiant smile.

"How very odd," he stammered, "th-th-that you should see I was an artist, I had hoped to get work here."

Blessed-Eyes took him at once to the King, and soon the three were deep in plans for decorating and making beautiful the inner walls of the wonderful white buildings which surrounded the "Court of Honor." It was not long before the stammering stranger had proved that he was not only an artist but a master artist. Lesser artists and new pupils flocked to him from all parts of the land and soon the interior of the handsome buildings presented scenes as busy as the outside had before shown. In less than a year the walls of all the buildings had been decorated in soft, beautiful colors, and on many of them were wonderful pictures of far-away landscapes; of beautiful sunset clouds; of fair, floating angel forms, and, best of all, true and lifelike portraits of the noblest men and women of the nation. Long before this was accomplished the stammering stranger had become recognized as the greatest artist of the age.

The next question which arose in the mind of the King and his ever faithful counsellor, Blessed-Eyes, was as to the best way to use the now truly magnificent buildings, so that all the people might enjoy them. While still full of these thoughts, Blessed-Eyes one day noticed a man wearily pacing up and down the court with bowed head, and hands clasped behind his body. On coming nearer Blessed-Eyes saw that he was blind. At the sound of his approaching foot-steps the man stopped and said:--

"Ah! that is the step of Blessed-Eyes! Much as he has been able to help his fellow men, there is nothing that he can do for me!"

"Indeed," said Blessed-Eyes, cheerily, "I am not so sure of that. If you can tell a man by his step you must certainly have very good hearing."

"Ah!" said the man, "I can hear a leaf fall to the ground a block away."

"Indeed!" exclaimed Blessed-Eyes gladly, "You are just the man for whom I have been looking. Surely a man whose hearing is so acute must be a good musician."

"Yes, yes!" said the man impatiently, "I am the finest conductor of an orchestra in the whole world, but that avails me but little in these days. Nobody cares for good music now!" With these words he shrugged his shoulders and was about to pass on.

"Come with me to the King," cried Blessed-Eyes, "I think he has need of you."

After a long talk with the King, and some experiments by which they tested the man's fine sense of hearing, the King felt quite sure that he was exactly the man needed as leader for the great orchestra which he generously supported that the people might learn to love good music, so he was at once put in charge of the same. The new musician proved to be such a wonderful leader that no man in the whole orchestra dared play a false note, and soon their music under this remarkable director, was famed throughout the land, until thousands upon thousands came to hear the afternoon concerts which were given each day in the largest of the beautiful, white marble buildings.

One bright, spring morning Blessed-Eyes started out to enjoy the sunshine and the perfume of the flowers and the glad song of the birds. "Ah," thought he, as he walked along, drinking in great draughts of the fine, fresh air, "no human being can possibly be sad on such a morning as this." But while he was yet speaking, his eyes fell upon the tear-stained face of a woman. As it was impossible for Blessed-Eyes to pass any one who was in trouble, he stopped and said gently, "Dear Madam, is there anything I can do for you?"

"Alas, alas!" said the poor woman, "What can you, or anyone else, do for a broken-hearted mother whose four little children have been taken by death from her arms. Unless I have children to love, life has no brightness for me."

"Surely," said Blessed-Eyes softly and compassionately, "there are yet many children who need your love. Will you not come with me to the palace of the King?"

The woman looked puzzled and perplexed, but so sweet and gentle had been the tone of his voice that she instinctively followed him. I do not know just what happened in the consultation with the King, but this I do know, that only a few days elapsed before the "Court of Honor" rang each day with the voices of happy children as they followed the no longer sad-faced woman around to the concert hall to hear the sweet music, or off to the buildings whose walls were covered with beautiful pictures, or back again to their own handsome building, set apart for their particular use by the King.

Here she told them stories and taught them songs and led them in charming games and plays, and trained their little hands into skillful work until throughout the kingdom there was no happier band of children than those who had once been the waifs of the city, wandering through its streets. So full of motherly love was the woman's work with her new children that other beautiful and noble women came, in time, and joined her in it, until at last there was no child in the whole city who had not learned how to use his hands skillfully, how to love sweet music, how to enjoy beautiful pictures and how to be kind and thoughtful towards others.

In time many of these children grew into manhood and womanhood and became musicians, artists, authors, physicians, clergymen, and wonderfully skilled workmen of all sorts. Many of the women married and became loving and wise mothers because of the training they had received from the pale-faced, childless woman in the King's "Court of Honor."

At last the good King died, and the question arose, "Who shall be our next King." The counsellors of the nation met together to decide the matter. They sent to the stonemasons far away in the back country and the great master-mason cried, "Let Blessed-Eyes be our King! Did he not teach me how to use my strong arms? Has he not furnished bread for us and our families?" And the hundreds of stone-cutters and miners and diggers round about shouted aloud, "Long live King Blessed-Eyes!"

Then they sent to the various villages and towns of the Kingdom and the architects said "Let Blessed-Eyes be King! Has he not created the great Court of Honor from which we have all learned to make beautiful whatever we build!" And the carpenters and joiners and plasterers and painters all cried out, "Long live King Blessed-Eyes!"

Then they sent to the mills and the factories of the great cities and the masterworkmen and designers answered and said, "Why not make Blessed-Eyes our King? It was he who first introduced Art into our land and showed us how to make as beautiful as pictures our carpets and curtains and walls. Have not these things made our merchandise sought for all over the world." Then the spinners and weavers and dyers all shouted aloud, "Long live King Blessed-Eyes!"

Then they sent to all the colleges and schools in the land and the grave presidents and superintendents said, "We know of no better man than Blessed-Eyes. He first taught us that a love of the beautiful should be part of each child's education." Then the youths and the maidens, the boys and the girls, and even the little children shouted until they were hoarse, "Long live King Blessed-Eyes!"

Then the whole nation seemed to cry out, "Blessed-Eyes, Blessed-Eyes, Long live King Blessed-Eyes!" There is none among us whom he has not helped. When the news was brought to Blessed-Eyes that all the people desired him to rule over them, he smiled gently and said, "I had hoped to rest now, but if I can serve my country I must do it." So he was made King and the nation became wise and great and powerful under his reign. For the little children grew up learning to love the beautiful and to see it everywhere until at last there was a whole nation of blessed-eyes, and every city in the land became as beautiful as was the White City by the Lake.

_THE LOVING CUP WHICH WAS MADE OF IRON._

Upon the edge of a great forest a woodcutter had built him a cottage, and soon he brought a fair young bride to live in it. She was a neat, trim, little body, who wasted nothing and kept everything in the house in perfect order, so that in a short time their small yard showed her care also.

One day some cousins came from town to see the woodcutter, and his wife. They brought with them their dinner in a large basket, and a jolly time they had of it, wandering through the woods, lying on the soft green grass, and gathering the wild flowers. Finally, hunger drove them back to the woodcutter's house, and as they sat on the porch eating their luncheon, they thoughtlessly threw the skins of their oranges and the banana peelings on the grass in front of them. The woodcutter's wife said nothing, but she felt sure that such litter and dirt on the fresh green grass would grieve the wood-fairies who were trying to keep the forest and all of its surroundings as beautiful as possible. Therefore when the guests had gone, she quietly picked up all the skins and scraps of paper and burned them.

This so pleased the wood-fairies, that when her first boy baby came, they sent him a _loving-cup_ of gold. Around it were circles of diamonds and pearls and deep red rubies. Of course, the young mother was very happy, for she knew that such a gift meant her son would some day possess much money. So she set herself to work to make her yard more beautiful than it had been before, by planting flower-seeds in a border by the fence. "If my son is to become a rich man," said she to herself, "he must learn to love what is beautiful, that he may use his money wisely." She did not stop when she had made her own yard beautiful, but soon began scattering more flower-seed down by the spring that the wood-fairies might have flowers to enjoy while they came to drink. Before long her kind heart led her to plant other flowers by the dusty roadside and down in the lonely valley, in order that weary travelers, as they journeyed along, might see the bright blossoms and smell the sweet perfume.

This pleased the wood-fairies even more than her thoughtful tidiness had done, so, when her second boy baby came, they sent him a _loving-cup_ of pure silver. Around the outside of it were carved pictures of youths and maidens dancing in a circle on the green grass. This gift made the mother even happier than the first had done, for she read in the carving on the cup that her boy would love the open air and would grow up strong and healthy and her heart grew tender to all things about her.

She had noticed that some of the ugliest and most neglected weeds often bore delicate flowers, which, however, soon faded for lack of care. "I will see," said she, "if I cannot make the weeds grow into flowers by watering them and pruning them and lovingly caring for them. In this way I can help to make the whole forest wholesome, and thus show the wood-fairies that I am grateful to them for their gift of health to my second son."

She began by caring for the weeds which stood nearest her own home, and was rewarded by seeing them slowly change into shapely plants and their blossoms become strong and beautiful. Then her care extended to the weeds along the wayside, and in a short time there was not a hurtful weed to be found in the neighborhood. All had been changed, by a little patient care, into strong, thrifty shrubs and plants, each blooming according to its own nature, but all gladdening the sight by their bright flowers and healthy green leaves.

This changing of weeds into flowers so surprised and delighted the wood-fairies who had never heard of such a thing, that when her third boy-baby came, they consulted among themselves and decided to send him the _best gift_ they had to bestow. Accordingly they sent to the new baby a _loving-cup_ made of strong, black iron, and with it, three large earthen jars. One was filled with the sweetest golden nectar ever tasted by mortal lips, another contained a brown vinegar so sour that half a teaspoonful of it would make your face wrinkle, while the third jar held a blackish-looking gall, of such a bitter flavor that one drop of it would make one shrink from ever wanting to taste it again. With this strange present they sent word that if the mother loved her boy, whom by the way she had named Philip, she would mix a cupful of the sweet nectar, the sour vinegar and the bitter gall, using half as much vinegar as she did nectar, and half as much gall as vinegar, and give it to the boy to drink on his birthday, each year, until he was twenty-one years old.

The mother hesitated. It seemed so hard to make her darling child taste of the bitter gall when there was plenty of the sweet nectar to last until he was grown, but she knew that the wood-fairies were wise. Were they not trying to make the whole earth beautiful? Surely they would not require so hard a thing of her unless it was for little Philip's welfare.

Therefore, each succeeding birthday she mixed the fairies' drink and poured it into the iron cup and gave it to the child. Sometimes he cried and sometimes he fretted, but she held the cup firmly to his lips until the last drop was drained, and then she would kiss him and tell him that he was her dear, brave boy, and would some day thank her for making him drink the fairies' potion. He soon found that if he drank the contents of the loving-cup early in the morning, he tasted nothing but the sweet nectar, whereas if he put it off until noon, he could not taste anything but the sour vinegar, and when he delayed the drinking of it until night, it seemed as if the whole contents of the cup had changed to gall, and he would be days and days getting over the bitter taste. So being a sensible boy, he learned to drink it as soon as it was mixed.

Each year he grew more loving and thoughtful of others, more like the wood-fairies in his effort to make the world around him beautiful. Little by little he gained the power which the wood-fairies alone can give--the wonderful power of knowing just what is going on in the hearts of the people about you, even when you do not speak to them or they to you.

If he chanced to meet a sad-faced man or woman on the street, his beautiful eyes seemed to say more tenderly than words could say, "I see you are in trouble and I feel _so sorry_ for you." If he passed a group of merry makers, his smile was so bright that they knew it meant "What a lot of fun you are having! I am so glad!" As he grew older his hands became almost as wonderful as his eyes, or his smile. If he found a little child crying over a broken toy he would stop and mend it, and in a few moments the tears would be gone and the little one would go off laughing or singing, hugging his mended toy.

Sometimes a young girl would come to him with a beautiful picture which she had been embroidering on a screen, but which had been spoiled by some crooked, careless stitches, and he would patiently sit down beside her and would point out to her just where the wrong stitches had been put into the picture, and would help her take them out. Then he would show her how to put in the right kind of stitches and she would go away happy and contented, ready to work day by day on the lovely screen with which she was someday going to make her future home beautiful.

Now and then a young musician would find that his silver flute played only harsh discords instead of sweet melodies and he would grow discouraged and be ready to throw it away, when Philip would come along and pick up the flute quietly and examine it and discover that the jarring sounds came because it was not free from the dust and dirt of the street. Then he would tell the young player what was the matter and would stay with him until he had made the flute as clean as a flute should be, and he was usually rewarded by some fine music from the grateful musician. Occasionally he would come across a man toiling along the road with a pack on his back, so heavy that he was bent nearly double by it. Then Philip would stop him and plan with him how the load could be divided into two packs so that he might carry one under each arm, and thus be able to walk straight and erect and hold his head up as a man should. Nobody ever dreamed of telling him a lie! "He knows just how we feel" people used to say, and somehow the sight of his strong, manly face stirred within them a desire to be brave and noble, and true, and he was beloved by all who knew him.

This indeed was the most precious gift which the wood-fairies could give.

_HANS AND THE FOUR BIG GIANTS._

Once upon a time there lived a little boy whose name was Hans. His home was in a village where the tall trees shaded the green grass that grew around the houses. Hans loved his home very much. He loved to hear the birds sing and to watch them fly high in the air, and he often threw crumbs upon the ground for them to eat. He loved the bright red and blue and yellow flowers which grew in the garden behind the house. He delighted in the sweet odors which came all unseen from their very hearts. So he gladly watered them when they looked thirsty. His mother soon taught him how to place strong straight sticks beside the weak vines so that they, too, could climb up and get the sunlight. Hans loved the dear old hens and their downy little chickens that were not afraid to peck the grain out of his hand. In fact, Hans loved everything and everybody about him, from the small naked worms which crawled about among the clods of earth, up to the strange and beautiful stars which shone so high above his head.

He was a very happy, little fellow, always busy, always finding something to do for somebody.

By and by, when he grew to be a tall, strong lad, he used to go with his father to the forest to chop wood and thus help earn money which went to buy food and clothes for his mother and his three younger brothers, for Hans' father was poor and money was scarce in his family.

After a time, when Hans had grown so tall that you and I would call him a young man, his father said to him: "Hans, my boy, it is time now that you started out to hunt some work for yourself. Your next younger brother can help me with the wood chopping and the smaller ones can help the mother in the work about the house. You must go out into the world and learn how to take care of yourself, and perhaps some day you may have to take care of your mother and me when we grow too old to work."

So Hans' mother packed his clothes in a little bundle, and, as she kissed him good-bye, she said: "Hans, my precious son, always be brave and true, and the good God will take care of you." Hans then bade farewell to his father and his younger brothers and started on his journey.

He walked a long way until by and by he came to a great city, where the houses looked dingy with smoke and the rattle of the carts and wagons made an incessant roar. After a time he found some work in the shop of a blacksmith, and although the work was grimy and rather hard to do Hans used to like to see the sparks fly from the red hot iron every time he struck a blow with his heavy hammer. He was very proud when at last he could shape the hard iron into a fine horseshoe almost as well as the smith himself. Hans did not know it, but this very work was making his arms grow big and strong and his chest broad and full.

Every day Hans used to see a beautiful princess drive past the blacksmith's shop. She was the most beautiful princess in the world, and although her blue eyes and golden hair were admired by everyone, she was chiefly beloved because of her sweet smile. Hans used often to say to himself: "How I wish I could serve this lovely young princess." At last one day he went to the palace gate and asked the gatekeeper if there was not some work in the palace which he could do.

"What can you do?" asked the gatekeeper.

"I am willing to do any kind of work which the king may need to have done," answered Hans.

Then the gatekeeper passed him on to the keeper of the king's palace.

"What can you do?" again asked the keeper of the king's palace.

"I am willing to do any kind of work which the king may need to have done," replied Hans.

So the keeper of the palace told the king that there was a strong, tall young man without who wanted to serve him. "Bring him to me," said the king. When Hans came into the presence of the mighty king the monarch looked at him very hard for a few moments and then said: "What can you do, young man?" And again Hans replied: "I am willing to do anything that you may need to have done. I would like to serve the beautiful princess."

"You would, would you?" cried the king. "Now I will test you. In the bottom of the North Sea there lies a string of enchanted pearls. If you will get those pearls and bring them to me you shall serve my daughter, the princess, and in time I may make you governor over one of my provinces; who knows?" And the king laughed to himself.

Hans was wild with delight and, turning, hastened out of the palace. The very next day he started on his journey to the North Sea. He walked and walked a long way until he was very tired. At length, just ahead of him, he saw a big giant rushing along in the strangest fashion.

"Good morning," said Hans, as he caught up with the giant. "What a very large giant you are!"

"Yes," replied the giant, looking down at Hans, "I have need to be both large and strong. Where are you going, young man?"

"I am going," answered Hans, "to the North Sea to try to get a string of enchanted pearls which lies at the bottom of the sea."

"Ah!" said the tall giant, "it will take you a long time to get there. Now if you could walk as fast as I can, it would be an easy matter."

"How fast can you walk?" asked Hans.

"I can walk faster than a greyhound can run," said the giant, "and when I run, the swift river cannot keep pace with me."

"Can you, indeed?" exclaimed Hans. "What a fine fellow you are! I wish you would come along with me. After I find the string of pearls I want to get back to the king's palace as soon as possible, for I am to serve the beautiful princess."

"If that's the case," said the giant, "I think I will go along with you."

The two walked along, chatting together, until they saw what Hans thought must be a huge round stone lying in the road. When, however, they came up to it, he saw that it was another big giant lying asleep by the road side. The hot sun was pouring down upon his face. "Stay here," said Hans, "until I can cut a branch from some tree to shade that poor fellow's face. The sun is so hot it will soon blister him."

At these words the tall giant laughed aloud. "Ho, ho!" he cried, "don't you know who that is? He is a neighbor of mine. He has such strong eyes that he can see a fly on a leaf of a tree a mile away."

The loud laugh of the tall giant awoke the sleeping giant, and he opened his great eyes and stared at Hans. "What are you doing, young man?" growled he.

"Oh, nothing," said Hans. "I was merely sticking these branches into the ground so that they might keep the sun out of your eyes."