Part 4

"I have never found him," said the disappointed Caterpillar. "I presume he has consoled himself with another wife by this time. I searched faithfully, crawling over whole trees in hopes of seeing him, and exposing myself to many dangers. I met other caterpillars in plenty. That of the looper-moth supports itself for hours on the hinder feet, raising the body high in air, and, by a resemblance to the twigs of the tree, succeeds in deceiving the birds that would devour it. Some I found to be protected from injury by tufts of hair, acrid secretions, and stinging powers. Others so closely resembled brown, crumpled leaves, or green, fresh ones, that I should never have known them had they not spoken; while some of the number arm their dwellings with thorns. I have even heard of another species, called bombardiers, who fire off little guns when pursued, accompanied by a blue smoke and disagreeable scent.

"I liked to watch the ermine-moth community the best. They spin a commodious tent; and, wherever they wander over the tree, they carry a thread with them, so that they may not lose the way. Birds can do no more than strike their wings against the elastic bridges thus formed: they cannot penetrate the lines.

"Well, all the caterpillars laughed at my folly in searching for the humming-bird's husband; and perhaps they were right. I now have reason to despair of ever meeting him, for he never returned to where the nest had been; and a slow crawling caterpillar cannot hope to pursue the flight of a bird."

Here the Caterpillar paused abruptly: the Wasp, interested alone in startling incident or romantic adventure, was yawning.

"Really, I beg your pardon," he had the grace to say; "I did not sleep well last night."

But apologies or entreaties did no manner of good. The Caterpillar steadfastly refused to continue his tale.

"Very likely I was growing tiresome," he replied in an injured tone. Yet he made no further remark; for the Caterpillar, like other slow persons, was apt to be obstinate. This made affairs rather stiff and uncomfortable; so they were all glad to retire for the night.

The next evening, the Caterpillar was still sulky, and resisted all attempts of the Teapot to coax him into better humor. The Cricket wisely concluded to divert matters, by inviting the Spider to entertain them.

"I believe I am something of an author," said the Spider, "although I have never written for any of the magazines of the day. I will tell you a story I composed last summer, if you like."

THE FOUR SILVER PEACHES.

"Beyond the Frith of Clyde, the Kyles of Bute cleaving their way among gray cliffs, tapestried with mosses and richly clothed with lichens, past Loch Ridan's clear waters, past the peninsula of Cantyre, on the bosom of the Atlantic, lies a group of islets, varied in hue and form,--the Hebrides.

"To this isolated region, where the ocean hurls in winter storms against the rock walls, or ripples in caressing waves under summer skies, we will turn; for children have been born on that rugged shore, scenting the heather and wild thyme with their first breath.

"On the island of Iona, near Port St. Ronain, there once lived a good man, who had three strong sons, and two ruddy, blue-eyed daughters. One thing troubled him: little Neil, his nephew, did not thrive so well; for he was a cripple, and it saddened the uncle's heart to see the boy droop and pine away.

"Little Neil was an orphan; and he missed a good mother so much, that he was not happy, like his sturdy cousins. He could never run along the stretch of white sand, flecked with quartz and shells from the Ross of Mull. No: he could only creep painfully to the brink of the green, crystal waters, to peep into their clear depths; or climb to some higher eminence, and watch the sea-birds in their rapid flight, the distant outline of cliffs shining in the sunlight, and the light breeze curling the waves crisply about the bows of many a little craft that skimmed over the azure sea only to melt into the hazy distance.

"Neil loved the ocean and the sky above it, embracing between them his island home. Everybody thought him a strange child, and this naturally gave him very bitter feelings: it seemed to him he should like so much to be his cousin Angus, who hunted the otter and tended the sheep, sleeping many a night upon the open hillside, wrapped in his plaid.

"The lame child had never been at school; yet he had heard the traditions of his home often related about the winter fireside. He had heard the grandeur of Fingal's Cave described; the stone cairn that marks the last resting-place of the Scandinavian woman, whose wish it was to be buried in the pathway of the Norway wind; and the castle of Duart, where a lord of the isles left his wife to be overwhelmed by the rising tide. Then, too, he had shuddered with fear over many a tale of ghosts and goblins haunting ruined houses; for the Scotch people are superstitious.

"The great day of the year arrived, and all the cousins went to the fair held at Broadford, on the Isle of Skye. Little Neil had once been there, to see the women with smart caps and scarlet tartans grouped about their cows and sheep, while the men and boys passed in restless, changing crowds; but the noise and bustle wearied him, so he remained at home.

"Now I am coming to the real matter of the story: the kernel shall be ready for your appetite, if you have but the patience to crack the shell. We will see what kind of entertainment was prepared for the lonely cripple, who told his thoughts to no one, and chose the whispering winds for companions.

"When the sun sank over the broad ocean, little Neil sought a favorite nook in which to watch the long day die. Fainter grew the rich hues of the western sky, more distant the line of rocks, here outlined in creamy whiteness, there abruptly riven by some black precipice, until Neil fancied strange forms were flitting about the bases of the cliffs, and rose to go; but he was stayed by a curious sight. The sea was glimmering with a phosphorescent light, and the waves that broke upon the shore were gemmed with globules of living fire, which melted away almost imperceptibly into rosy shades. The boy had often seen the ocean thus illuminated; but his gaze was attracted to a certain point, where the brilliancy centred in a wave of beautiful transparency, through which glittered emerald and golden flashes, appearing and disappearing in rapid succession, until Neil was dazzled by the splendid sight.

"The wave throne upreared slowly, creamed over, and deposited at the boy's feet a casket of delicate frost-work, glittering with a wonderful radiance. Neil reached forward and touched it, when the lid flew open, disclosing four silver peaches, resting in separate filigree spaces of the same precious metal. Across the fruit lay a small case-knife, the handle studded with precious stones, and the diamond blade wearing a keen edge.

"'This casket contains four wishes, from which you may choose. They are the gifts of the Wind Sisters,' said a water spirit; then sank in a circle of foam bubbles.

"In the sky appeared a ring of blended colors, which descended rapidly, taking the form of four globes,--one rose pink, one gold, one green, and the last pale blue. The radiance of these globes of light spread far over the ocean. They parted slowly as they neared him, the outline of the separate forms melted into soft masses, and upon the vapor rested the Wind Sisters.

"The South Wind, whose misty chariot took the shape of a magnolia blossom with pink-tinted petals half-opened, shook her rosy mantle, and a breath of balmy perfume was wafted to Neil, like the scent of a garden after a summer shower.

"The East Wind floated on a couch of golden cloud, her black hair waving over a fleecy amber robe down to her sandalled feet, while her presence breathed a richer odor than the delicate fragrance of the southern sister: it came from spice-groves and orange-trees.

"The West Wind stood erect upon her throne of emerald, her fair head bound with ivy tendrils, her green mantle fluttering sparkling breaths of health, flower-scented too, with the violet and anemone, and in her eyes a promise not found in those of her languid companions. Lastly, on the right rested the North Wind, her stately form supported on snowy-white pinnacle and fret-work of vapor, sharply defined as the ice cliffs that frown upon the Polar Sea. She wafted little Neil no perfume of flower or shrub from her lily draperies; yet he felt a keener joy kindle in his heart at the frosty stillness of her presence, than when the others lavished their treasures upon his senses.

"'Open the first peach,' commanded the North Wind in a grave, stern voice.

"Neil raised the fruit, divided it, and found it to be lined with pure gold.

"'I can give you wealth,' said the East Wind, in a rich, soft voice. 'Look!'

"A scroll of mist rolled from her chariot to the surface of the water, taking the form of a mirror as it expanded; and upon the polished surface little Neil fixed his eyes.

"First there appeared a garden, the like of which the Highland boy had never dreamed of. Upon lawns of velvet smoothness rose wonderful trees,--the palm, towering into feathery crests; the lemon, drooping a grateful shade of snowy blossoms; and the palmetto,--all interlaced by climbing plants. In this delightful retreat, wearing robes of satin, and reclining upon magnificent carpets, within hearing of trickling streams or the twitter of brilliant birds, was a man resembling Neil's own self. Servants flitted about him, bearing flagons of sherbet, or held tempting fruits in their cool leaves,--the delicious pomegranate and juicy date; while grave men, slaves only to his wealth, bowed in homage.

"The scene melted gradually into a palace of splendid appearance, where Neil still held a place, his turban spangled with diamond, his pipe-stem encrusted with emeralds, and the dagger hilt, half concealed in a Cashmere sash, glistened with amethyst and carbuncle. From the lofty hall, vaulted passages and pavilion extended, each more rich in coloring, more gorgeous in ornament, than the last; while beyond a balustrade of delicately carved marble sloped a terrace, blooming with roses and jasmine vines. Again the rich man was surrounded by servile homage and flattery; but Neil saw he was nothing but a cripple, after all.

"The East Wind sat in her couch of sunshine, with a triumphant smile upon her dark face.

"'Ah! it is all very grand, lady,' said Neil sadly; 'only must I be lame still?'

"'Yes.'

"'What good would the riches do me, then, with the pain also?'

"'Much good. Think of the power you can wield. The whole world would open her countless treasures. You could obtain knowledge; you could see every thing that is beautiful or interesting; and you could relieve the needy by your bounty. Better be a rich cripple than a poor one.'

"Little Neil thought so, too; but he concluded to cut another peach before he decided the question. He did so; and the interior of the second was lined with crystals of great brilliancy, that shimmered in points of light like a rainbow prism, yet their gleam was cold as ice.

"'I can give you fame,' said the West Wind in musical tones. 'Look!'

"She unfurled her green mantle, which grew into a mirror like the previous one, only of an intense, steely brightness. Neil saw a range of mountains, snow-capped, their steep slopes skirted by pine-trees; while far below spread a sunny landscape, ripening vineyard, tracts of waving grain, and olive-groves. Through the narrow defiles, down the precipitous heights, hewing a passage for their clumsy elephants by fire and vinegar, came an army, and in their midst moved a man, the master spirit of it all.

"'Hannibal,' whispered the West Wind.

"The picture changed to a succession of views,--battle-fields swathed in smoke; soldiers moving across the plain, their arms glittering in the sunlight, their banners fluttering; a city burning in wreaths of flame against a northern sky; a nation crowning their chief with laurels.

"'Napoleon,' whispered the West Wind again.

"Then the boy saw travellers exploring unknown regions, statesmen and authors toiling over vast schemes.

"'Could I be like these, lady?' he asked.

"'Yes.'

"'Would I be happy?'

"'That is for you to decide. Fame is a greater gift than that of my sister here: any fool can be rich. But every man cannot have what these men possessed, because God gave them what gold never can buy,' said the West Wind, her proud eyes brightening.

"'I should only be a cripple, and men would laugh at me,' sighed Neil, taking up the third peach, and opening it.

"The lining was composed of opals, quivering in tremulous rays of purple and pink more beautiful than words can describe.

"'I can grant you the love of all,' said the South Wind, in a voice like the chime of silver bells. 'Look!'

"Her scarf floated downward a mirror still retaining a rosy tinge, that was a relief to the eye after the glitter of fame's glass, or the golden haze of wealth's vision.

"Neil saw himself on the river bank, surrounded by children, some playing games, and others reading in the shade. Upon his shoulder perched a white dove, which appeared to whisper wise counsel in his ear; for, whenever dispute arose among his companions, he quieted their anger by soothing words.

"Again Neil saw himself a young man, traversing the suburbs of a great city, where gardens bloomed with purple grapes, peaches, and golden pears. The dove rested upon his head, seeming to attract other birds that perched on Neil's hand to preen their feathers. Sleek-crested horses tossed their manes at his approach, and the dogs crouched to be caressed. As he entered the crowded streets, children laughed, fair women smiled; and on every face was a kindly greeting for the man with the invisible dove.

"Lastly, Neil saw himself a very old man, seated before the open door, as the sun was setting in the west. About him were gathered kind friends ministering to his wants, the little ones weaving a crown of tender lily sprays to place upon his head; but the dove, instead of perching upon his shoulder, as it had done when a boy, now hovered afar, ready to take flight. The journey of life was almost over.

"'Dear South Wind, let me have this wish,' cried Neil eagerly.

"'You shall have it. Who can live without love?'

"He was so sure of liking this gift, that he pushed aside the casket, and the last peach rolled on the ground.

"'Wait,' said the North Wind, 'until you know my gift. I am not sure you will prefer it; still you must decide.'

"Neil severed the peach, and in it were reflected the fleeting shadows of angel forms.

"'I can grant immortality,' said the North Wind, holding up a shield of pure ice, and Neil saw a strange spectacle.

"He beheld a vast amphitheatre, crowded with cruel, hard-featured people, all watching eagerly a boy standing in the arena alone, yet wearing on his upturned face a light that shone upon none of the heathen about him. Above him poised an angel, whispering words of encouragement, as a handsome tiger sprang into the circle from an iron gateway, and approached the boy with crouching, stealthy step. The tiger made a sudden leap, the heathen crowd shouted, and _two_ angels winged their way above the palaces and temples of Rome.

"Next there rolled a dark stream across the mirror, bearing upon the current a woman, with hands roughly bound together. Dark figures loomed against the eastern sky, watching her; but another watcher was there also,--the same angel, shedding a radiance from her golden wings upon the drowning head. Neil saw a great man before a haughty council,--Dr. Martin Luther; he saw many of a humbler class teaching the poor and ignorant, whether in the wilds of savage Africa, or the city streets, it mattered little which; and with each hovered the angel companion. Children, too, there were who were patient and unselfish, doing what they could in little acts of kindness, while the angel smiled even more tenderly upon them. Upon all their faces beamed a joy that separated them from the world.

"'Riches do not always bring happiness,' said the North Wind. 'Fame seldom does, and mere earthly love must fade before the presence of death.'

"'Let me be like those you have shown me,' cried Neil, stretching out his hands towards her.

"The other sisters rose slowly, floating south, east, and west, until they became balls of light again; but the North Wind took the little cripple in her sheltering arms, and bore him swiftly away. Over the sea they went, the North Wind sweeping gracefully along; and Neil felt no fear of her, as he had done when she stood on her cloud throne.

"At first he could see nothing but one vast expanse of water, domed by the clear sky; then, at length, he noticed a dark line on the horizon, which grew more distinct, and proved to be land.

"'You must begin the journey for yourself now,' said the North Wind, alighting on the shore.

"'Oh, don't leave me!' cried the child, clinging timidly to her white draperies.

"'Do not fear: I shall still be with you;' and then she rose above, leading him on the path he should go. She had now become the angel that guided the others.

"So Neil began the toilsome, painful journey. The way led across an arid, desert waste, where waves of yellow sand glowed under the sun's fierce heat. Neil hobbled along slowly, the hot earth scorching his feet, the brazen sky without clouds, and the air stirring from a heavy, pulseless stillness, into sultry wind puffs. The child might have drooped and fainted by the road, had not the North Wind spread her cool wings to shade him from the sun's vertical rays. She also gave him a crystal flask of pure water, and a loaf of bread; but, although his own lips were parched with thirst, he gave the precious draught to others who implored the refreshment. The supply never failed; yet, when the child looked into the flask, there never appeared to be but a few drops remaining. So, too, with his loaf of bread. There was always more to give when he broke a piece; yet there never seemed enough to eat any himself.

"'Never mind,' he thought bravely. 'All these poor people have not the North Wind to shelter them, as I have.'

"At last the desert plain ended, and Neil began to ascend a steep mountain-side, that was clouded in a mist of snow at the summit. He found the way still more difficult. Now he had to climb slopes smooth as glass; now he trod a narrow ledge above a frightful precipice, where many fell; or he was obliged to cross glaciers, where the rough points hurt his feet, and the ice yawned treacherously about him. The cold air whistled by; and the sleet drifted in sheets, so that he could hardly see his way.

"The North Wind gave him a fur cloak. How deliciously warm and soft it felt! A shivering old man came by, and Neil gave him the garment.

"'Never mind,' he thought, 'he is so old; and, besides, I have only to look up into the North Wind's kind eyes, to be both warmed and fed.'

"Half frozen with cold, he finally descended the other side of the mountain, to the brink of a wide river, upon the opposite side of which bloomed a fair country.

"'You must swim the stream,' said the North Wind; so Neil plunged in boldly. The waves curled up over his head at times; great monsters swam towards him with fierce looks,--serpents and alligators opening their huge jaws as if to devour him; yet he panted on until he was cast upon the shore.

"When he awoke, Neil found himself lying upon the soft grass, near a spring of water that gurgled from a moss-grown rock, with a pleasant sound, and tinkled along in mimic cascades beside him. He was surrounded by a group of fair children, who bade him drink of the spring. Neil drank deeply, and immediately he felt a new life. His limbs were no longer distorted, his back bowed: he was well at last.

"'Where is the North Wind?' he asked.

"The children led him to the gates of a palace, which had been before concealed from his view.

"'We have brought another child,' said his companions; and the gates flew open to admit them.

"In the court of the palace stood the North Wind, looking more radiant than the sun.

"'Do you know me?' she said, kissing Neil.

"'Oh yes,' he replied joyfully. 'You are my own dear mother, who died so long ago.'

"The North Wind was indeed his mother. Little Neil was in heaven."

The Spider heaved a deep sigh when he had finished, although his countenance glowed with the radiance of an inborn genius. "I wish I had ever been able to screw up my courage sufficiently to attempt publishing any of the ideas which occupy my brain," he said.

"Why have you not?" buzzed the Wasp.

"Ah," returned the other, "who ever heard of a Spider turning author, and walking into the office of some magazine with a manuscript under one arm?"

"It is an age of improvement, you know," remarked the Cricket.

"I perceive you have a fine mind," said the Kettle; "only we are not much used to considering the winds in a poetical light, especially when they howl down the chimney winter nights."

"No, indeed," assented the Saucepan, who had been thinking of a story for some time. "I can tell you something plain and homely enough if--"

Here the Saucepan paused, coughed, and waited to be urged.

The next evening they were ready to listen, and Saucepan began:--

GOING MAYING.

"There was a general rising, as the teacher dismissed her section, the pupils clicking desk-lids, dropping books, and chirping like a flock of busy swallows, as they rushed down the broad stairway to the street. Among the crowd were two little girls, who presently detached themselves from the rest, and entered the Common, talking earnestly. The smaller was listening with an air of grave attention to the animated conversation of her companion.

"'But, Nellie,' she said, with a doubtful shake of the head, as she glanced at the bare branches of the trees, that rustled in the breeze with rather a wintry sound, 'I think it would be too cold.'

"'Too cold!' echoed Nellie, tossing her head contemptuously; 'and pray did you ever read of May-day being any thing but warm and lovely, with wild-flowers, green grass, and running brooks? Nonsense, you really know nothing about the matter here in town.'

"Finding that her prudent little schoolmate still hesitated, Miss Nellie produced a brilliant-covered book from her satchel, which she had been perusing behind her grammar with great relish that very morning, and so dazzled Bessie's eyes with a pictured May-queen in white muslin and pink ribbons, that all her scruples faded, and she agreed to an excursion next day, in honor of the first of May.