Part 1

Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustrations. See 54480-h.htm or 54480-h.zip: (https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/54480/pg54480-images.html) or (https://www.gutenberg.org/files/54480/54480-h.zip)

Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive. See https://archive.org/details/telltaleoriginal00traiiala

THE TELL-TALE.

THE TELL-TALE:

An Original Collection of Moral and Amusing Stories.

London:

Harris and Son, St. Paul's Church-Yard. 1823.

London Printed by Cox and Baylis, Great Queen Street.

THE TELL-TALE.

ARPHU,

OR, THE FAIRY KITTEN.

"My dear mamma," said William Dormer, as he stood by his mother's knee, "have you no more pretty stories to relate?"

"Let me see," said Mrs. Dormer, "but I think I must have almost exhausted my stock. Beauty and the Beast, I told you yesterday; the Yellow Dwarf you know by heart, for you were telling it the other day to your cousin; and as for Puss in Boots, the Sleeping Beauty, and Whittington and his Cat, you know them nearly as well as I do.

"However," added she, "I will endeavour to recollect something else; but this is not the proper time for me to relate tales. When you have done the sum which your papa has given you, and Mary has finished her copy--and when Lewis has learned his lesson--when all this is done--why, perhaps, by that time, I shall have thought of a new story."

This observation produced the desired effect. Lewis, who had been previously winding some thread about his fingers, began to apply himself diligently to his task; William paid strict attention to his cyphering, till it was completed; and Mary acquitted herself better than usual in writing. The children then reminded their kind mother of her promise, and anxiously inquired what story she had recollected.

"You are very fond of fairy tales," said Mrs. Dormer, "and I am now going to relate one, which is called 'The Fairy Kitten.'"

"Oh dear!" said William, "did she catch mice? I never heard of fairies keeping cats before."

"Remember the White Cat," said Lewis, "I dare say she was one of _her_ kittens."

"Have patience," said Mrs. Dormer, "and you shall hear.

"A very long time ago, when fairies dwelt in England, there lived on a woody hill, near a lake in Cumberland, a king of the fairies, who was very good and benevolent; and if any of his little subjects ever committed evil or malicious tricks (to which it is said fairies are much inclined), he was sure to punish them severely. But it was the misfortune of this good king to have a little son, who, instead of resembling his excellent father, was of a most wicked and cruel disposition. The name of this mischievous being was Arphu, and to look at him, every one would have thought him exceedingly good. He had a beautiful face, and hair that glittered like sunbeams; he had downy wings which shone with a thousand different colours, like that beautiful stuffed humming-bird, which your kind uncle sent me. But though he had all these beauties, he was always inclined to do evil, rather than good. While the other fairies were, in obedience to the orders of the king, busily employed in supporting flowers that had been overthrown by the hail, or raising the ears of wheat which had been beaten to the earth by a thunder storm, Arphu would silently slip away from these kind offices, and fly or run through wet or mire, in search of mischief. If he chanced to see a poor snail which with great toil had climbed a leaf to eat its breakfast, he would give it so hard a push, that the hungry little creature would tumble down, and have all its labour to begin again. If he saw a harmless caterpillar crawling on a twig that overhung the lake, he would shake the branch violently, and then laugh to see the poor little animal descend by its slender thread, directly into the water below, where a greedy fish waited to devour it. He loved to drive flies into spiders' webs, and fish into nets; but his chief delight was to follow some rude children, the sons of a farmer, who lived in the valley under the hill. He did not mind if his golden ringlets were wet through, or his splendid wings dabbled with mire, if he could follow them in their play, and secretly tempt them to torment some harmless bird or animal, which he took care to entrap for their cruel sport.

This conduct gave great pain to the benevolent mind of the king; and, after some time, he declared in council, that the next wicked action which Arphu committed should be punished with exemplary severity. He then ordered four of the wisest fairies to follow the young prince secretly, and to bring him before his throne the next lawless deed they found him doing. They obeyed, and that day caught him in a very wicked trick. Two swallows had built their nest under the eaves of a farmer's barn; but when they had completed it, and hatched their young, Arphu stole up to the nest and loosened it from the barn, so that the tender young ones were shattered to pieces on the ground. Whilst the mischievous prince was surveying the dying pangs of the wretched little birds, and listening to the woeful complaint of their parents, the fairies seized him and hurried him to the foot of his father's throne, where they related the distressing scene which they had just witnessed.

The king, as you may suppose, was extremely angry, especially as this cruelty had been exercised upon swallows, which were protected both by fairies and men, for their industry in clearing the air from noxious insects, and for their ingenuity in building their curious nests. "Wicked and malicious little being!" said he, fixing his eyes with an awful frown on Arphu; "thou shalt learn by thy own experience what it is to suffer the miseries thou hast inflicted on others; and if this punishment do not amend thee, thou shalt be for ever stripped of thy gay wings and pearl coronet, and be confined with the evil gnomes in the neighbouring iron mines. Fly from my sight, and receive the reward of thy crimes!"

Arphu willingly fled from the palace of his angry father: but he had not proceeded far, before he felt himself whirled round and round in the air with such violence that his head became giddy, and he soon lost all sense. When he recovered, he was greatly astonished to find that he had entered the body of a little kitten, belonging to a cat which was tenderly nursing her young brood on some hay, in a loft over the farmer's barn. He now comprehended the justice of his father's sentence, and was aware that the very children whom he had taught to be cruel, would now have it in their power to torment him. He shuddered at the cruelty he had seen them practise; he shook and trembled in every limb at the least noise; he tried to speak, and call out, but found that he could only utter piteous mews; and to add to his distress, he could not even see in this degraded state. His new mother, however, licked and caressed him with much affection; and, after he had thought a great while, and bitterly repented of his faults, he fell fast asleep.

The next morning he awoke very cold and hungry, for the cat was gone. Well, he pawed about with his little blind brothers and sisters, and got as close to them as he could to warm himself, but they, in crawling about to find their mother, often scratched his face with their claws: he conceived, however, that they did not mean to hurt him, so he did not return it, for his weak and wretched state had already taught him wisdom. Presently he heard a loud purring: he shrunk in dismay, but he recollected it was only the cat who came to suckle and comfort them. Now for nine or ten days, old pussy took the tenderest care of her kits, though she did not know that the fairy prince was one of them; and in that time the kittens began to see clearly, and in a fortnight longer they grew strong, and very pretty; and Arphu with the rest of the brood began to frisk about and play a thousand funny tricks; and though they sometimes quarrelled with him, and bit his ears or tail, Arphu took such delight in their gambols, that he soon began to love them, and never attempted to hurt them. Arphu had often dreaded the time when he was to suffer pain, but so many days had gone by that he had almost forgotten it. One morning, however, they heard a great noise on the hayloft stairs: the kittens all fled in great haste from where they had been frisking, and scampered into their nest, where they lay in great dread crouching close to each other. And now there was the noise of a great many feet on the stairs, and Arphu plainly distinguished the voices of the farmer's children.

"Come here, Maudlin," said Hodge, the eldest boy, "come and look about, for I know that our Tib has kitted somewhere in the hayloft; let us find the kits, and we will have a nice drown."

"Go, Hodge!" said Maudlin, "you cruel boy! if I could find the poor things, I would hide them all from you. You have grown so hard-hearted of late!"

All this time Hodge and his brothers were looking about, in spite of the reproaches of the kind little Maudlin; but just as Hodge was giving up his search, Gilbert, the youngest boy, trod on Arphu's tail, and gave him such a pang, that he could not help mewing most piteously, which instantly betrayed their hiding place. Gilbert turned over the hay as quick as lightning, till he felt the soft fur of the kittens; then called out, "I have found them, here they are."

Poor Arphu, and his unfortunate brothers, were now dragged to the light: whilst the gentle Maudlin wept to see the tender creatures in the hands of her cruel brothers, who griped them barbarously, regardless of their cries and wailings. After a few minutes the boys thought proper to carry them down stairs, and with shouts of joy took them to the horse-pond, where they ranged their shivering victims on the cold wet grass that grew around it: they then began to choose the prettiest, that they might save it. Poor Arphu's errors and sufferings may well be imagined, but at length they chose him as the best; and tying some heavy stones round the necks of all the others, plunged them one by one into the pond; and Arphu saw his pretty brothers, his innocent frisking playfellows, drowned before his face without mercy. Meanwhile the poor cat, which was almost mad to see her young treated so barbarously, ran amongst them, and seizing Arphu, dragged him off in her mouth. This way of carrying hurt him very much: but the cruel boys were so busy putting them to death, that they did not see pussy make off with him; and she soon carried him to a new hiding place. This was the hollow branch of a tree in the farmer's garden. Here Arphu suffered a great deal of cold, and on a moonlight night he would put his little nose out of the hole and see his fellow fairies dance in the meadow below, and look most gay and beautiful: but no one took notice of him in his fallen state.

For a long time Arphu could not forget the pretty playfellows he loved so much, and with whom he used to have such merry games; but the playful nature of a kitten gradually overcame his grief, and he began to run up and down the oak, and ventured on the grass underneath, where he played in the sun with his shadow, and ran after his tail, the length and beauty of which was so great, that though a fairy, he could not help admiring it. And now our careless little Arphu by degrees forgot his cruel foes; till one fine sunny morning, when he was asleep under the oak, chance led Gilbert that way. The artful boy made no noise, but creeping softly forward, sprung upon Arphu, and held him so fast, that he almost squeezed him to death. He then ran into the kitchen, where the farmer's family were at breakfast; and putting Arphu on little Maudlin's lap, he exclaimed, "I have found him at last; old Tib must have hid him in the garden, for he lay beneath the great oak." Maudlin tenderly stroked the kitten, and said, "Ah, pretty creature, I am sorry they have found thee, for I sadly fear they will hurt and ill use thee."

The good little girl then began to feed Arphu out of her bason; but at this unlucky minute the ill-natured Hodge came in, calling in a surly tone for his breakfast. He had been clipping the hedge in the front of the house, and was in a very ill humour, as he always was when he had any thing to do. Little Maudlin got up to pour his milk out of the boiler, but no sooner had she placed the kitten on her stool than the cruel Hodge in a moment laid his hands on it, and seizing the shears, cut the poor thing's nice velvet ears close to its head. He was then going to cut its tail, but the piteous cries of the miserable little animal called Maudlin to its aid. Maudlin, seeing the kitten all over blood, began to cry; and her father, who loved his little girl dearly, called to Hodge: "Let thy sister's kitten alone, sirrah! or I will thrash thee soundly." Emboldened by this threat, Maudlin snatched Arphu out of her brother's hands, and ran down the garden to hide him. Hodge flew after her to see where the kitten was put; but just as he came up with her, Maudlin fell over the stump of a tree, Hodge tumbled on her, and his weight and hers together crushed poor Arphu to death.

Maudlin wept bitterly when she got up and saw what had happened; and the farmer coming up with his long cart whip, gave Hodge a handsome trimming for his cruelty and disobedience. And now Arphu, finding himself released from the body in which he had suffered so much pain, went and knelt as a penitent before his father's throne, shuddering at the recollection of the agony he had so recently endured, and humbly promising amendment for the future. The fairy king was rejoiced to find that the harsh lesson had done his little Arphu good, and tenderly condoling him for his sufferings, restored him to favour again; and I am happy to add that Arphu was never known to be again malicious, but ever remembered his own woes when he saw any animal tormented.

"How strange, mamma!" said William; "I never heard a fairy tale before, but what had giants, and enchanters, and princesses in it."

"Well, William," said Mary, "it is quite as good without them. I wish my cousin John had heard it, because be might have learnt to treat poor little helpless animals better than he does. I don't like him, because he is such a cruel boy."

"Yes," said William, "it might have made him better; but I will try to remember it, and tell it all to my cousin Kate, when she comes."

"You will soon have an opportunity, my love," said Mrs. Dormer, "for your uncle brings Kate to-morrow to spend the Midsummer holidays with us, and perhaps to stay some time longer: for her health is very indifferent, and I hope the pleasant air of Hampstead will do her good."

"How glad I am," said Mary. "But I hope he won't bring John, for he would spoil all our pleasure. The last time he was here, he pinched Kate, and kicked me; and you remember William beat him for it; and my uncle was so angry!"

"Yes, my love; but William should not have taken the law into his own hands. However, do not be alarmed, for John is not to come. I cannot wonder at your disliking him, for he is by no means good or gentle. But you must remember that he lost his mother during his infancy, which was a great disadvantage to him; and his father never sees him or Kate, but when they return from school for the holidays."

"But, mamma, Kate is very good."

"Yes, my dear Willy, Kate is very sweet-tempered and patient; but, like William, she is rather careless. And now, my dears, look out of the window, and see what your papa and the carpenter are about."

"Oh, mamma," said little Lewis, "papa has a long rope, and a nice little chair, and Taylor is putting up two great posts."

"Do not you remember the swing he promised you?" asked Mrs. Dormer.

"Oh, what a good papa!" said William; "come mamma, do let us go and look at it."

"With pleasure," said the good mother, and taking William and Mary by the hand, she went down the garden, preceded by the little Lewis, who literally jumped for joy.

After the arrival of cousin Kate, the little Dormers were so busy in making her welcome, and so much occupied with the new swing, that they forgot to ask their mamma for another story. The next afternoon, after they had finished their lessons, and were preparing for a visit to the swing, it began to rain very fast. This put a stop to their intended amusement, and, what was worse, they could not run on the grass for fear of catching cold; all the children, therefore, crowded together on one of the window seats, and remained some time looking sorrowfully at the rain. At last William said, "if mamma would tell us another story about Arphu, we should not be so dull as we now are."

"Well, my Willy," said Mrs. Dormer, "you shall not be dull if I can help it--I will tell you another story, though it is not about Arphu."

On hearing this, the four children got down from the window seat, and bringing their stools, seated themselves around Mrs. Dormer, anxious to hear the promised story.

THE LITTLE WATER-CARRIER;

OR, THE REWARD OF INDUSTRY.

"Mamma," said little Sidney Fletcher, taking his mother's hand and leading her to the window, "do look at that little boy who is carrying those water-buckets on his shoulders through the rain."

"Well, Sydney, I see him; but why did you wish me to leave my work? was it only to look at the little water-carrier?" inquired Mrs. Fletcher.

"I wanted, my dear mamma, to know what his name is; I thought you could tell me."

"And why did you want to know his name?" said his mother.

"Because," answered Sydney, "he seems so industrious. Charles and myself often sit and watch him from the school-room window. He comes from behind that opening in the street, going to work very early, and keeping on till it is almost dark; don't you think the poor fellow must be very much tired before night?"

Mrs. Fletcher was pleased to see the amiable disposition of her child, and said,

"My dear boy, I have myself often observed the industry of the little water-carrier. I dare say he is a good boy; for he never appears discontented at his burden, but carries it cheerfully along, though it is certainly too great a weight for one so small."

"Indeed, mamma," said Sidney, "I do not think I should be near so patient as he is, for I would walk slower, and not go so often."

"Then you would do very wrong, Sidney: for if you were forced to work, would it not render the labour lighter to do it willingly, and make haste? That little boy ought to be a pattern for you and Charles."

"You are right, mamma, I do think, in what you say," observed Sidney thoughtfully; "for I got my Latin lesson done much sooner (though it was very hard) this morning, because I learned it fast, and did not leave off to look out at the window, or to play; and papa gave me this nice pencil-case, and said I was a good boy."

"Then, Sydney," said his mother, "I hope you will not forfeit your good name; and if your father says to-morrow evening that you are still a good boy, and have not done any thing amiss, I will give you the silver pen you have wished for so long."

Sidney was sure that he should be good enough to merit the pen, which he had long desired to possess. He was so pleased already with the thought of the reward, that he began jumping about the room for joy, making rather more noise than his mother's head could bear.

"I fear, Sidney, you are in a fair way of losing the pen, if you go on making so much noise, for that is not being good: but I do not wish to alarm you (for Sidney began to look rather grave); see, here are your sisters and brother, with your papa,"

Who then entered the room. Marcella, the eldest girl, was a year younger than her brother Charles, who was nearly fourteen years old: Sidney was eleven, and little Juliet eight. The two boys were studying the Latin language, with the help of their father; and Marcella French with her mother: as to little Juliet, she was as yet but in the first rudiments of English grammar. Mr. Fletcher instructed the girls in writing and cyphering with their brothers.

The rain having left off, the children put on their hats, and went to take a walk with their father. Mrs. Fletcher preferred remaining at home, to the great disappointment of Sydney, who was very fond of his mother; besides, he thought he should be less likely to err if she were with him.

Their way lay through a beautiful green lane, by the side of a wood. Charles, who was of a more serious turn than the generality of children of his early age, walked with his father, conversing on the various objects that met their view as they proceeded; whilst the other children tripped gaily on before, sometimes running races, and at other times gathering the wild flowers that grew in the hedges. Little Juliet at length called them.

"Come, come," said she, "and see what I have found."

Sidney and Marcella soon came running to the spot where Juliet was plucking wild strawberries.

"I would not eat any till you came up," said little Juliet.

"That was a good girl," said her sister.

Sidney kissed her for remembering them, but said, "I will not take them from you, for I know where I can get plenty;" and away he ran, till he found a large gap in the hedge, through which he climbed up the bank into the wood. Marcella begged him to return; but Sidney was deaf to all intreaties, and invited them to follow his example. Marcella would not, and told him how wrong it was to trespass on forbidden grounds.

"Oh," said he, "but I am not doing any hurt. Only see what a quantity of nice strawberries I have got in my hat: if you will hold your frock, I will throw you some."

"No, Sidney," said she, "they do not belong to us: we have no right to any of them."

"Why, if I did not pluck them the birds would, and you know the owner of the wood cannot hinder them," answered Sidney.

"Well, then," said Juliet, "consider how you are robbing the pretty robin redbreasts and the blackbirds of their food. Come back, come back, Sydney, for papa is close by."

"Wait a minute," said he.

"Make haste, then."

"Here I am," said he, jumping across the ditch, which, unfortunately for him, was at that part half full of dirty water, and the opposite side high and slippery. Just as he had gained the edge of the bank his feet slipped, and he fell back into the water up to his middle, and his new trowsers were dirted all over. With some trouble he contrived to scramble out, by the assistance of his sisters; and whilst they were trying to fish out his hat, which unfortunately had fallen into the ditch, and was now sailing about with the unlucky strawberries in it, Mr. Fletcher and Charles came up to where Sidney stood, dripping with wet, and wringing the water from his jacket.

"How is this, Sidney?" inquired his father: "have you been learning to swim in this clear stream with your clothes on?"

Sidney felt very much ashamed, for he did not like to confess how foolishly he had acted, and happening at this moment to recollect the silver pen, he conceived it was certainly lost: he therefore hung down his head and began to cry bitterly.

"Come, Sidney," said his father, "do not be such a baby as to cry: if you did fall into the ditch it cannot be helped; I dare say it was accidental."

But Sidney, who well knew how naughty he had been, only wept the more.