Читать книгу The Story of the Mince Pie (Illustrated) - Josephine Scribner Gates - Страница 8
THE STORY SPRITE’S TALE
ОглавлениеSuddenly from the very centre of the fire sprang a wonderful vision, a tiny creature, who seemed clothed in wreaths of flame. With a joyous greeting, as jolly as the fire itself, she cried:
“Your wish is granted. Behold, the Story Sprite! Since I attended the clove party I have been around the world and have a fine collection of tales.
“I am fresh from Japan, now, where I saw enacted a most exciting tale. Creep close to my feet while I tell it. I wish you could see the children in Japan. They are so beautiful; clad in their brilliant coloured kimonos, they look like a mass of poppies nodding in the wind.
“One dear little Japanese maid did such a splendid thing!
“Without speaking a word, with only her dear two hands, she saved a young man from being imprisoned for life. He was an American gentleman, who had been sent to Japan on business.
“He was lonely so far from home, and became very friendly with Cherry Blossom, the child of one with whom he had business relations.
“He was very much interested in the queer games she played, and spent much time with her.
“Great sport they had flying wonderful kites”
“Great sport they had flying wonderful kites that looked like gorgeous birds with outspread wings, or maybe seated on the beach she would make sand pictures, which were her great delight.
“They usually wound up these visits with a tea-party. The child seated opposite him, looking like a brilliant butterfly, poised for a moment as she handed him the fragile cup filled with the fragrant beverage.
“In time he became very dear to her, and one day while playing with her dolly she overheard something that sorely troubled her little heart. Her father was talking in low mysterious tones to some Japanese friends. Suddenly she heard the American’s name. She pricked up her ears.
“Dear! Dear! Such startling news she could hardly believe.
“They thought he was a spy and were going to put him in prison very soon! They walked away, leaving the child grief-stricken.
“What a spy was, she did not know; but what she did know was that her precious friend must be saved from that awful fate, for once in prison he might never be released.
“He had told her of his own little girl, who was even now, in that far away land called America, watching for his home coming. As she gazed off seaward she saw a ship that might sail any day. He must go on it and she must tell him why, but how could she?
“Never was she allowed to be alone with him for one moment. Always when playing her childish games with him, her nurse sat near by, within hearing of her voice, her beady eyes watching her every movement.
“As the child pondered on this startling state of affairs, her friend suddenly appeared. At once the nurse glided to her post.
“ ‘See the ship,’ he cried in her native language. ‘It will sail this evening. The next ship that comes will take me home to my baby. Let’s go and buy her a doll.’
“To the shop they went, the nurse trotting along beside them.
“They bought a wonderful doll, an exact copy of Cherry Blossom in her silken robes.
“They bought many other toys, among them a complete outfit for making sand pictures.
“ ‘I’ll tell my baby how you helped me to choose her doll. Now let’s go to the beach and you bring your sand bags and teach me how to make the pictures so I can make them for her.’
“Happy thought! Now maybe she could have an instant, just a weenty instant alone with him, and so she asked the nurse to bring the bags of sand.
“ ‘You come, too,’ whispered the nurse, and refused to budge without the child.
“Japanese children must be obedient, and she followed, not even daring to allow her little feet to lag or to seem disturbed in any way.
“She was soon seated on the beach close beside her friend, while the nurse sat a little apart knitting, her eyes fixed on the pair.
“Making pictures in the sand is a wonderful game, a game the Japanese children adore.
“They have three bags of coloured sand and one of white. It is most fascinating to see them spread in the form of a square the white sand, till it resembles a sheet of white paper. On this with black and red, yellow or blue, they produce wonderful landscape effects.
“Cherry Blossom plunged her hands into the bags, her thoughts far away from the game.
“Suddenly her eyes flashed. She knew how to give him the message. Why hadn’t she thought of it before! Pictures could tell most anything, and so she eagerly began.
“Immediately from her tiny fingers the varicoloured sand trickled in a thin stream.
“At first as he idly watched, he saw in her picture a bit of sea, on which presently appeared a ship with spreading sail. On the fluffy white waves, creeping up to the shore, rocked a tiny boat. On the land appeared a prison, a perfect copy of one he had seen many times. In the small boat an American was seated.
“The man watched in tense silence. The child was telling him something. He lit a cigarette with unsteady hands, but as he remembered the sentinel on guard, he began to hum a tune.
“The child’s hands never trembled as she next produced a number of Japanese gentlemen.
“Now the man disappeared from the boat, and at once was seen peering through the prison bars.
“Just here the nurse suspiciously drew near to see the picture.
“The man quickly pointed to the sky, crying gaily, ‘See the birds!’
“As the nurse gazed Skyward, one swift stroke of his hand destroyed the picture, and he said quietly:
“ ‘Now let me make one. You do them so well I am afraid you will think I am a bungler, but I want to try.’
“As he worked, he whistled a merry tune, and the child felt that he meant her to know he understood. She soon saw that he, too, was picturing a message, for in the twinkling of an eye he had fashioned a tree, its green branches stretching out over the white background.
“On a low branch he placed a bird. It seemed to be making an effort to free itself from a thong which held its little foot. From its beak fluttered a banner. Under his fingers this banner was soon transfigured into an American flag.
“As the man worked, the merry tune was replaced by sharp twitters and chirps as though the bird were distressed.
“The child watched fascinated, as underneath the tree she saw a Japanese child taking shape. Her fingers rested on the bird’s foot, and suddenly by a quick twirl of his hand the bird was blotted out and in an instant plainly to be seen poised on the mast of a ship, carolling a glad song of freedom.
“Then the picture was swept away, and with one look into the child’s beautiful eyes, a look that told volumes, he gathered up his purchases and sauntered away.
“In his room he hastily packed his belongings, and later on under cover of the darkness he was safely stowed on the ship.
“As Cherry Blossom drowsily closed her eyes she heard the ship’s shrill whistle as it steamed away, and she rejoiced that she had been able with her own little hands to send her dear friend back to his baby.
“There was great excitement the next day when it was learned the American had vanished.
“The nurse was closely questioned. Never had she left the child alone, and her mother also declared that she too had been on guard, and all she saw was that they made pictures in the sand without even a word.
“And so the secret never was told till now, and it will still be a secret, for pie people never never tell, and now good-bye till you wish for me again.”
“We will both wish for her to come”
With a graceful courtesy the Story Sprite vanished as suddenly as she had appeared, and the audience sat for a moment listening spellbound to her song fast dying away.
Then long-drawn breaths were heard and the Clove Doll cried, “Wasn’t she perfect? I never dreamed she would come here, but I am glad she did.