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Authors: Douglas A. Anderson

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BOOK: Tales Before Tolkien
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“So much for the Fairies' pet,” said Jumper. “It's worth all the scratches on my face to have caught this ugly brute;” and he laughed again.

“Well,” said Gandleperry, “I thought I could manage it, and so I have. Now you two fellows had better carry him up to the castle.”

“Thank you for nothing,” answered Juff; “do you expect us to go and carry a great lumbering carcase like that, whilst you go lounging about and amusing yourself? Not a yard will I carry him, unless you help.”

“You forget yourself strangely,” said Gandleperry; “but I have no time for disputes. Bring the carrion up or not, as you please. I shall go on to the castle and tell Grindbones that the Mortal is caught and killed, and he will probably come and meet you, or at least send one of his servants to bring the game in.” And with these words he quietly walked away.

“This won't do,” said Juff to Jumper, as soon as he was gone. “I'll tell you what the old boy means to do. He'll tell his story first, and get all the credit with the old Ogre, and then, whilst we are bringing the booty in,
he
will get the promise of the head, and our share will be but small. Don't let us be done by old Gandleperry like this! Let us slip off and get to the castle before him, and the Ogres can send their own servants to fetch the Mortal's body.”

This proposal appeared to please Jumper, and off they both set as fast as they could go.

Poor Joe lay still enough, and no one would have given much for his life at that moment. But the Dwarfs had scarcely left the place when something so cold and refreshing touched his forehead, that it brought back his senses directly. He slowly opened his eyes, and beheld a sight the most welcome that could have met his gaze. Puss-cat Mew was leaning over him, and bathing his face and head with some mixture of so refreshing a character, that it seemed to put new life into him every moment. She looked very grave and sad, and was evidently quite alive to the danger he was in. Drawing from her apron pocket a small box, she took out of it a very little bottle, which she gave to him, and made signs that he should drink its contents. Having done so, he found himself so much better that he was able, though with difficulty, to stand upright, and very slowly to creep along after his faithful friend, who kept beckoning and urging him along, until they came to the very selfsame oak in which he had slept the night before. Luckily it was at no great distance from the place where he had been so cruelly beaten by the three Dwarfs, for, had it been much further, he could not have struggled so far before his enemies would have overtaken him. As it was, the back door had scarcely opened to receive him before he heard the roar of the infuriated Ogres, who had come back with the Dwarfs and found their prey gone. Their shouts of rage rent the forest air, and poor Joe trembled as he lay on his bed and listened to the fearful sounds.

When he was safely in bed, Puss-cat Mew brought a pot of wonderful ointment, which she ordered him to rub carefully into every part of him that had been bruised by the blows of the Dwarfs; which he did, and experienced great relief.

For three days and three nights, however, the poor fellow remained in the oak, carefully nursed by his kind friend, and requiring nothing except that she should speak to him, which she never did, by any accident. On the fourth morning he felt so well and strong that he expressed his desire to go out, and, touching the bark as before, found himself again in the forest. His guide showed him the same way as before, and he arrived quite safely at the Fairy Green, where she again disappeared.

He boldly stepped into the open space, as he had done upon his first visit, but no Fairy forms arose around him. Perhaps they were angry at his foolish disobedience of the directions given him; but still that could hardly be the case, or why had they allowed Puss-cat Mew to help him again? And as he came near the spring, the old, soft, low voice stole gently through the air, and said to him, in friendly tones—

“Remember, Mortal, thou hast seen

The revels of the Fairy Green;

Hast heard the words of warning true

From one who falsehood never knew.

Unchanged is truth, so ponder o'er

The same directions as before.

Obey—and never count the cost;

But disobey, and thou art lost!”

Joe heard with attention, and determined that, come what might, he would not be tempted again to forget the directions which he had received. He set off from the Fairy Spring, and walked briskly towards the edge of the forest. His legs both itched violently as before, but not a scratch did they get, and he arrived within a few yards of the edge without the slightest adventure of any kind. Then, suddenly, he heard a voice calling to him loudly—

“Joe, Joe,” it said, “turn round, you rascal Joe! You coward! are you afraid of an old man? I'll fight ye for half-a-crown, Joe! Turn and come on! don't run away like a cur with his tail between his legs.”

Joe heard plainly enough, and recognised the tones of the wily Gandleperry, but was resolved to make no mistake this time; so, although the Dwarf called him all the bad names he could lay his tongue to, he kept boldly on until he reached the edge of the forest. Then he immediately stood upon his head and counted ten, as he had been told by the Fairy. Next he threw his hat in the air, and then began to take off his boots. All this time the angry Dwarf was abusing him with all his might, but to no purpose. Off came Joe's boots; he took them in his hand, and in another moment was outside the forest. Hardly was he there when he boldly turned round, knowing that the spell was broken, and there he saw, not only Gandleperry gnashing his teeth in rage and fury, but three of the Ogres running up behind him, and showing plainly enough their fury and disappointment. But, luckily for him, the magic power which had kept him so long in the wood was even more powerful over them, and they were not able to pass the edge of the forest. They were therefore compelled to content themselves with yells and threats, which did Joe not the slightest harm, and he walked off, highly delighted at having at last been able to leave the scene of his troubles. He began to whistle a merry tune, which he had not done all the morning before, having been told, I suppose, by some wise person or another, that “you should never whistle till you are out of the wood.”

As Joe walked onwards, he cast many a thought back to his friends the Fairies, and especially to that kind and faithful Puss-cat Mew to whom, as he rightly felt, he owed everything; and he sighed heavily as he thought that perhaps he might never more see one who had become so dear to him, and in whom he had begun to take the deepest interest. His path lay over rough ground, with brakes and briars growing around on every side, for several hundred yards after he had left the forest; and it then led him suddenly into a broad track, on one side of which was a fence of tangled thorns, through which no human being could ever have forced his way; whilst on the other was a steep precipice, over which if a fellow fell, his friends would have found him in several pieces if they took the trouble to go round, and down to the bottom, to look after him. As, however, the pathway was at least a dozen yards wide, Joe thought little about these obstacles to his going right or left, and trudged steadily on.

All at once he became aware of another obstacle of a different nature. The path, at a short distance before him, sloped rapidly down to the valley below; and just where it began to do so, nearly in the middle of the path, sat an old woman in a red cloak; while, to his great astonishment, a broad—very broad—bar of iron, perfectly red-hot, stretched completely across the path right and left of her. As turning back was out of the question, Joe boldly advanced; but when he got within a couple of yards of the bar, it began to fizz and glow, and threw out such a strong heat that he stepped back a pace or two, quite unable to proceed.

“Well, Dame,” he said, addressing the old woman, “what's the matter
here?
Do you keep a toll-bar? or why mayn't I pass on?”

The person he addressed had her back to him, but, turning round when he spoke, disclosed a face very much wrinkled, the nose of which was like the beak of a hawk, and the chin at least a yard and a half long.

“I am sure you are welcome to pass,” said she; “but
I
have nothing to do with it. I am only here to see whether anybody burns themselves. In fact, you know, I'm not the master, but the Bar-maid.”

Joe thought she was the queerest-looking barmaid
he
had ever seen, and didn't quite believe her story; however, he did not say so, but went again up to the bar, with the same result. The old woman said no more, but sat still, knitting away at a pair of stockings all the time with the greatest composure. Joe was fairly puzzled, and at last, in despair, exclaimed—

“Well, it really does seem a strange thing, that after escaping the Ogres and Dwarfs, I am to be stopped here by a bar of iron. Oh, Puss-cat Mew! can't you help me now?”

At that very moment he turned his head, and, to his great delight, perceived his friend sitting down behind him in the middle of the pathway.

“O you beauty!—you darling!” he cried: “now I shall be all right again!”

And kneeling down, he took her in his arms, and kissed her again and again with joy and gratitude; whilst she softly purred, as if by no means displeased at the attention. But when he put her down, she no longer led the way, as she had done in the forest, but merely rubbed against his leg, and kept on purring. Joe was fairly puzzled for some time, till at last he thought he understood that she wanted to be carried; and accordingly he took her up in his arms again, and walked up to the bar. To his great surprise, as he neared it, it quietly sank into the earth, leaving a black, burnt mark where it had descended, over which he stepped, and found himself free to go down the grassy slope of the hill before him, which he now saw with astonishment would lead him right down upon the river, upon which, but a short distance off, stood his father's mill. He had hardly time, however, to remark this, when his surprise was increased tenfold. Puss-cat Mew sprang out of his arms the very moment they crossed the black line; her skin fell off, her whole appearance changed, and she stood before him the most charming young Lady he had ever seen. I cannot attempt to describe her; but let everybody that reads this story think who is the prettiest person he or she has ever seen, and Puss-cat Mew was just like
her.
All I do know is, that, under a gown which was quite smart enough for the occasion, she had the most magnificently embroidered petticoat you can imagine.

But this was not all that happened. The red cloak of the old woman fell off her shoulders, her head with the ugly face disappeared, and there stood in her place a grand and lovely Lady, small, but exquisitely made, and with something so noble and royal in her appearance, that Joe Brown took off his hat directly, and made a very low bow.

“Joe Brown,” said the Lady, in a voice so sweet and yet so dignified that it filled Joe with admiration—“Joe Brown, the time is come when you may be told much which you might not know before. I am the Queen of the Fairies, and Puss-cat Mew is my favourite daughter. As you are a good young man, I am willing to bestow her hand upon you, and a better wife could no man wish; but it is necessary to tell you several things which it is most important for you to know. Owing to circumstances which I must not explain, the destiny of Fairies and of mankind is linked together in a curious way, and both of them have something akin to the mere animals. For instance, it is well known that the face of every man who comes into the world wears, when he grows up, an expression like the face of some animal—a horse, a sheep, a dog, a fox, or some other creature of the same sort. Now, in Fairies, destiny takes a different turn. We are liable to be obliged actually to take the shape of some animal during a portion of our lives; and thus it is that my daughter has appeared to you as a Cat. The only way in which she could hope permanently to resume her own shape was by marrying a Mortal, and you are the fortunate object of her choice. The bar which you have just passed, and which will rise again after you have descended the hill, prevents any one from leaving the outskirts of this forest and descending into the valley. The Ogres cannot leave the forest; and although Fairies can of course do more than such wretches as they, yet no Fairy can pass this bar unless carried by a Mortal, except on very special occasions, and for a short time only. You could not have passed the bar without Fairy aid, nor could Puss-cat Mew have done so without you. Take her, then, Joe, and make her a good husband. Remember, however, that you obey the directions which I now give you. Once every year, on the anniversary of the day on which you are married, Puss-cat Mew must wear that garment which she now has on, her best embroidered petticoat. That would seem to you a simple thing enough, but you little know how much depends upon it. It is necessary that, for three years to come, my dear daughter should daily drink a bason of milk; at the end of that time, no rules will be necessary, and she will be quite safe, and beyond the power of evil. But if, during the three years, she omits for one day to drink her milk, and forgets to wear the petticoat on her marriage anniversary, her enemies will have power over her, and she will have to become a Cat again. And one more thing I must tell you, namely, that if during the time that she is wearing her petticoat it gets the least bit torn or burnt, no one but a Fairy can mend it, and it must be mended in this forest, and with Fairy silk. Until this is done, she will be lost to you, and you may fancy the difficulty of getting it done in a place where our enemies are so continually on the watch. Here there is no milk, so that no Fairy has a chance of drinking for three years, and thus being able to keep a Mortal shape. Puss-cat Mew, therefore, will depend upon your care and attention, and I am sure you will never repent the day on which she becomes your wife.”

Joe listened with respectful attention to the words of the Fairy Queen, and faithfully promised that which was required. He didn't the least object to marry the young lady who stood blushing before him, for not only was he exceedingly grateful for all the services she had rendered him as Puss-cat Mew, but he had really become exceedingly fond of her; and this fondness was by no means diminished when he looked upon the great beauty of her present appearance. The Fairy Queen now kissed her daughter; and bidding them both farewell, disappeared from their sight; whilst Joe tenderly embraced his bride, and they descended the hill together, and made the best of their way to the old miller's house.

BOOK: Tales Before Tolkien
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