THE REAL FAIRY FOLK - 14 Magical Adventures in Fairyland E-Book

Louise Jamison

• Herausgeber: Abela Publishing
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

Belinda was down by the pond watching the comings and goings of the many creatures and their peculiar habits.
She had propped her doll, Belinda, in the crotch of a tree and let out a big sigh, wishing Belinda was alive. She jumped as a voice behind her said “Watch and listen! Watch and listen!” The voice was so close to her ear that Ruth jumped, and nearly fell out of the tree.
Herein begin the adventures of Belinda and Ruth, the talking doll. Along the way Belinda has 14 adventures with Ruth meeting a variety of creatures and, of course, real fairies.

Belinda’s adventures include

• In the Old Willow Tree
• Two Funny Gentlemen and What They Said
• Ruth and the Wonderful Spinners
• Mrs. Mosquito and Her Kin
• Ruth Hears About Some Water Babies
• Ruth Goes to a Concert
• Ruth Meets All Sorts and Conditions
• Mrs. Tumble Bug and Others
• Little Mischief Makers
• Some Queer Little People
• Wise Folks and Fiery Ones
• The Honey Makers
• The Most Beautiful of All
• Real Fairies.

10% of the profit from the sale of this book is donated to charities.
Also look out for a free story from this book at https://www.facebook.com/FolkloreAndFairyTales

So what are you waiting for? Download a copy of this ebook now and join Belinda and Ruth on their adventures in Fairyland!
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KEYWORDS/TAGS: Real Fairy Folk, folklore, fairy tales, myths, legends, childrens stories, fables, enchanting stories, Old Willow Tree, Funny Gentlemen, Ruth, Belinda, Wonderful Spinners, Mrs. Mosquito, Kin, Water Babies, Concert, All Sorts, Conditions, Mrs. Tumble Bug, Mischief Makers, Queer Little People, Wise Folks, Fiery folks, Honey Makers, Beautiful, Real Fairies, wind, breeze, bright eyes, Fairyland, Hold tightly, brook, big green frog, brown frog, Rana the frog, fat toad, swimming, tadpoles, tails, loud splash, in the shade, spin, cocoon, silk, Daddy Long Legs, ants, slaves, parasols, Vespa Maculata, Smart children, moths, moon moth, Luna,

Leseprobe

THE REAL FAIRY FOLK

By

Louise Jamison

Illustrated By

James M. Gleeson

Originally Published By

Doubleday, Page & Company, Garden City, N. Y.

MCMXII

Resurrected by

Abela Publishing, London

MMXX

The Real Fairy Folk

Typographical arrangement of this edition

© Abela Publishing 2020

This book may not be reproduced in its current format in any manner in any media, or transmitted by any means whatsoever, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, or mechanical ( including photocopy, file or video recording, internet web sites, blogs, wikis, or any other information storage and retrieval system) except as permitted by law without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Abela Publishing,

London

United Kingdom

2018

ISBN-13: 978-8-XXXXXX-XX-X

email

[email protected]

website

www.AbelaPublishing.com

Dedication

To my Mother and Father this little book is lovingly dedicated

“‘I FEEL THE WIND,’ CRIED RUTH, WITH BRIGHT EYES. ‘DEAR VOICE, ARE YOU THE WIND?’”

Contents

I.In the Old Willow Tree

II.Two Funny Gentlemen and What They Said

III.Ruth and the Wonderful Spinners

IV.Mrs. Mosquito and Her Kin

V.Ruth Hears About Some Water Babies

VI.Ruth Goes to a Concert

VII.Ruth Meets All Sorts and Conditions

VIII.Mrs. Tumble Bug and Others

IX.Little Mischief Makers

X.Some Queer Little People

XI.Wise Folks and Fiery Ones

XII.The Honey Makers

XIII.The Most Beautiful of All

XIV.Real Fairies

Illustrations

“‘I feel the wind,’ cried Ruth, with bright eyes. ‘Dear voice, are you the Wind?’”

“‘Sometimes it seems as if it must be Fairyland all around, only I’m deaf’”

“Ruth, holding Belinda tightly, drew close to the edge of the brook”

“‘How’s that?’ and with a splash a big green and brown frog landed on the stone at her feet”

“‘I am a frog, of course, but my family name is Rana’”

“That nice fat toad in the garden”

“‘I didn’t move, but my tongue did’”

“‘I was soon swimming about with a lot of other tads, slapping tails, and having all kinds of fun’”

“A loud splash and Mr. Rana’s long legs disappeared in the brook”

“‘I’m right over here in the shade’”

“‘The mother spins the cocoon of silk from her own body’”

“‘Why, it’s Daddy Long Legs’”

“‘I made one of these pits and in the funnel end I lay in wait for ants’”

“‘My friends, there are ants and ants’”

“‘Then there are ants who keep slaves’”

“‘Then there are ants who cut pieces from green leaves and carry them as parasols’”

“Vespa Maculata”

“‘Smart children, aren’t they?’ asked some moths”

“‘I am the moon moth, the Luna’”

THE REAL FAIRY FOLK

CHAPTER I In The Old Willow Tree

He prayeth best who loveth best All things both great and small.—Coleridge.

Ruth climbed to her favourite perch in the old willow tree, and settled Belinda in a crotch beside her.

“Now,” she said, drawing a long breath, “we will be cool and comfy.”

Certainly if there was a cool spot to be found on this hot August morning it was in the shade of this big willow.

“Her very own tree,” as Ruth always called it, for, since she could climb at all, she had loved to sit among its drooping branches and hear the leaves whispering together the wonderful things, which she knew they were telling each other, even though she could not understand them.

Then, too, she could look down into the brook, and watch the doings of the queer little people who made their home there.

These, like all the tiny folk of the outdoor world, were a source of never-failing interest and wonder.

In their company, Ruth was never lonely, even though she had neither brother nor sister, nor indeed any little boy or girl to play with.

Still it would be so much nicer if she could only talk to the bugs and things. There were such lots of questions she wanted to ask them.

How she did wish that the funny old tumble bugs would stop rolling their ball, and tell her all about it. They never did, though. They just kept at that ball as though it was the most important thing in the world.

Then she wanted to know what the bees whispered to the flowers as they buzzed above them, and whether the butterflies spoke to each other as they flew by in the sunshine.

There were the ants, too, always so busy, and in such a hurry. How fast they could run when any one upset their nest; and how funny they looked carrying those queer white bundles.

Mother had called these bundles the ants’ babies, but Ruth thought them very odd babies, and she wondered if they had to be fed and bathed and put to sleep like human babies.

She wanted to know all about them, and about the spiders too, and their wonderful webs.

“Just think what a chance Miss Muffet had,” she said to Belinda, when both were settled to her satisfaction in the willow-tree perch. “Only a very friendly spider would come up and sit down by you, and who knows the interesting things it could tell. The idea of being afraid of a spider anyhow! You might as well be afraid of that funny old toad in the garden, and I don’t believe he could hurt you if he tried. I guess he doesn’t do anything but sleep.”

Ruth had been trying to talk to the toad that very morning. He had looked so solemn and so wise as he sat under the shade of a big stone in the damp corner of the garden, “but,” as she said, “he wasn’t any good at all,” for he only looked at her, then drew a film over his eyes, and went on swallowing very hard.

“He can talk, though, I know,” she said to Belinda. “They can all talk in their way. It sounds like noise to us, because we can’t understand. Do hear them, Belinda? What are they saying?”

But of course Belinda could not answer. She never said more than “mama,” in a very squeaky voice, and you had to squeeze her ever so hard to make her do that.

Ruth sighed softly, then, leaning forward with her elbow propped on her knee, and her chin resting in the palm of her hand, she listened to the flood of sound about her; the hum and buzz that came from garden and orchard, from field and meadow; thousands of tiny voices, rising and falling and rising again, as they told their fascinating life stories, from every leaf and twig and grass blade.

“They are talking just as fast as they can,” Ruth said again, “but I don’t know what they are saying. Oh! if I only did. Why don’t people learn their language instead of German and French and lots of other old things that aren’t any good? It would be ever so much nicer, and they could find out so many wonderful things, couldn’t they, Belinda?”

But, as usual, Belinda only stared at Ruth, and said nothing.

“Oh, dear,” said Ruth, “if you were only alive, and could tell me things, you’d be ever so much more interesting, but then maybe,” she added, thoughtfully, “I wouldn’t understand you any better than I do them. Maybe doll language is different too. It is all so puzzling. Sometimes it seems as if it must be Fairyland all around, only I’m deaf. I wonder if there’s a word that lets you in so you can know about things, like ‘Open Sesame’ in ‘The Forty Thieves.’ Oh, Belinda, do you think there is?” And Ruth clasped her hands together at the very thought. “But we can’t find it out,” she added, more soberly, “and so it wouldn’t be any use.”

“Watch and listen! Watch and listen!” said a voice so close to her ear that Ruth jumped, and nearly fell to the ground.

She looked about her expectantly, but no one was in sight, either in the tree or under it.

“It is very queer,” she said. “You can’t talk, Belinda, and I don’t see a single person anywhere.”

“‘SOMETIMES IT SEEMS AS IF IT MUST BE FAIRYLAND ALL AROUND, ONLY I’M DEAF’”

“It is not so queer as you think,” the voice replied, as close to her ear as before. “You cannot see me, but you can feel me.”

A passing breeze had touched her cheek and was softly ruffling her hair.

“I feel the wind,” cried Ruth, with bright eyes. “Dear voice, are you the Wind? Why have you never talked to me before? If you only knew how I have wanted someone to talk to me, and tell me things! People don’t seem to like to answer questions. They haven’t time or something. But you must know such a lot. The wind goes everywhere.”

“Yes, I am a great traveller, but, child, the marvellous things are not all far off. There is a wonderland right here at home, if one has the eyes to see, the ears to hear, and the heart to feel and understand.”

Ruth clapped her hands, and her eyes danced.

“I knew it! I knew it!” she cried eagerly. “I told Belinda it was Fairyland all around us; but, dear Wind,” she added, while a little cloud filled her eyes, “I do see and hear lots of things, but I can’t understand, and I do want to know all the whys and becauses. Won’t you please, please tell me?”

“I may not do that, child,” was the answer, “for each thing speaks in its own language, and will tell its own story to those who seek truly and earnestly. You are a thoughtful child, and for that reason it will be given to you to know those things which you most desire to learn. Only remember, ‘Watch and be patient,’ and never forget the password ‘Brotherhood,’ for even the lowest creature has some rights to be respected.”

The breeze passed on, softly singing through the willow branches, but Ruth sat without moving, her eyes wide with eager wonder.

“I didn’t dream it,” she said at last in an awed little whisper. “It was as real as anything could be that you couldn’t see. I suppose ‘brotherhood’ means not to be unkind or cruel to things. Oh, Belinda, just think of it: hearing what they say, the bees and the butterflies and the dear little crickets and funny old grasshoppers,” and she snatched Belinda to her and hugged her tight. “It will be harder than ever to go into the house now, won’t it?” she finished soberly. Then she sat for a few minutes thinking, very quiet, but very happy.

“Kerchug—kerchug—kerchug,” called a voice from the brook, and Ruth started so suddenly she nearly dropped Belinda, and caught a branch just in time to keep herself from falling.

“Gracious,” she said, “how that scared me. I do believe it was that big green and brown frog. See him down there, Belinda? He is just showing his head and his funny eyes out of the water. Let’s get down close to him, and maybe he’ll come out all the way.”

CHAPTER IITwo Funny Gentlemen And What They Said

Nothing useless is or low.—Tennyson.

“To be sure I’ll come out,” answered a croaky voice, as Ruth, holding Belinda tightly, drew close to the edge of the brook. “How’s that?” and with a splash a big green and brown frog landed on the stone at her feet.

“Now,” he added, swelling out his white vest with an air of importance, “I am a frog, of course, but my family name is Rana. Please don’t forget it.”

“RUTH, HOLDING BELINDA TIGHTLY, DREW CLOSE TO THE EDGE OF THE BROOK”