Mrs. Molesworth - Fairies Afield

Linde did not know that she fell asleep, though afterwards she knew it must have been so. She felt herself rising, rising – then a breath of colder air met her face, and – that was all she knew, till – she awoke, and found herself in the porch of the cottage, and – to prove the night's adventures had been no dream, in one hand the little spade, in the other the three red feathers, still firmly clasped.

She was a very practical maiden, in spite of her fairy perceptions, so the first thing she did was to lay the small treasures safely in the old jar, saying to herself, and "to-morrow night – no, I should say to-night, we will place it outside on the window-sill and in the morning it will be filled with the lovely leaves. What news, what joy to tell Aria!"

She ran upstairs – softly – but her sister was awake.

"Darling," she said, "are you really safely back? Yet I have not been anxious. Somehow I felt you were all right and I have had a peaceful sleep."

Then Linde told her the whole wonderful story and showed her the little spade. And at night you may be sure they did not forget to put the jar in the appointed place, to find it in the morning replenished with rose-leaves whose perfume seemed even more delicious than ever before. So Saturday found them with plenty of their treasured wares for sale, and quickly were they bought.

Nor was this only temporary good fortune.

The fame of their dried roses spread far and wide, and orders came from great distances, so that the two sisters were able not only to go on living together in greater comfort than they had ever known, but even to lay aside savings for a possible "rainy day."

Though as far as I could learn – this story, you know, is of a fairly long ago "once upon a time" – that day never came to the happy girls. The robins never failed them. The cottage garden and the neighbouring forest grew to be famed for the peculiarly beautiful redbreasts which there abounded. The uncanny reputation of the woods was quite forgotten, and on the contrary it was said to bring good luck to those who often strolled about in them.

I think both Aria and Linde married in due time and had happy homes of their own. One or other certainly did so, for the country-folk of that remote part of the world, from whom I learnt the story, showed me a specially lovely rose – "the robins' rose," it was called, and told me that it had been cultivated by the descendants of the sisters, till, for some reasons which I could not discover, the family had moved elsewhere.

"And they do say," added one aged dame, "that they grew to be rich and important, much looked up to and respected, which one can believe, if they took after their great-grandmothers and were favoured by the 'good people,' as those pretty maidens were."

I suppose the old jar and the magic spade were carried away as heirlooms, for though I looked about in some very curious antique shops in the neighbouring town, hoping to find one or both, I never succeeded in doing so, nor could I trace the family at all, which is scarcely to be wondered at, as no one still living remembered the sisters save by the quaint names of "Aria" and "Linde" – names which I love, and which I hope this story may lead others to love also.

Once upon a time – how long ago really does not matter – there lived in a certain country – and where that country is, does not matter either – three young men of about the same age. They were not brothers, but they had always been neighbours, and they must have been some sort of cousins, for they had an old relation whom they all called uncle and who called them all nephews.

"Nephew Hodge," "nephew Giles," and "nephew Michael." Those were their names, though I fancy the last – he was the youngest – was more often "Mike" than "Michael."

They were all three steady, well-behaved fellows, and very friendly with each other, which was natural as in several ways their circumstances were curiously alike. They were all orphans, and though Hodge and Giles had sisters, these were married and settled at a distance, and as for Mike he had nobody at all belonging to him, and as he was a very affectionate creature, but for his two friends he would have felt lonely indeed. They were all poor – very poor – the one thing each had inherited from his parents was a home, such as it was. Just a small cottage with a bit of garden ground, which in their leisure hours each cultivated to the best of his ability, thus growing some hardy fruit and vegetables which helped to support them, and a few pretty flowers, to brighten things up a bit.

They had a little friendly rivalry over these tiny gardens. Hodge's produced the best vegetables, Giles's the finest fruit, but young Michael's far and away the loveliest flowers. And instead of quarrelling as to which of them deserved the most praise as a gardener, like sensible fellows, each gave a present to the other two of his special triumphs.

There was still another curious bond between the three – which in most cases would have been the very reverse of a bond, and pretty certainly would have dissolved the friendship. They were all in love with the same girl. A charming girl she was, but of her, more shall be told hereafter. Perhaps the hopelessness of their admiration for her helped to keep the peace, for they were far too poor to aspire to her, as she was a damsel with a dowry of gold and silver, as well as of sweet looks and sweet character. So the three used to sit together and sing her praises with no bitterness or jealousy.

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