Everychild : $b A story which the old may interpret to the young and which the young may interpret to the oldDodge, Louis
Science
Everychild : $b A story which the old may interpret to the young and which the young may interpret to the old
Dodge, Louis
Fairy tales; Fantasy literature
The truth is that Everychild had been married just a year, and she was
thinking how it would be necessary before long for him to be conducted
to the grim Mountain of Reality. She knew that this was a very
terrible experience, or that it would seem so just at first; and that
is why there was a sad expression in her eyes. She knew very well,
however, that the matter could not be put off very much longer.
Indeed, she had been able to detect an occasional shadow in
Everychild's eyes which proved that he was already beginning to see the
formidable Mountain of Reality in the distance. I should also explain
that the messages she was sending and receiving with the aid of the
white doves all had a bearing upon the plan she had in mind of taking
Everychild, ere long, upon the most difficult journey he was ever to
make.
Although silence reigned in the room, there was the murmur of
children's voices in the distance, occasionally rising to a joyous
shout. The children were clearly at play in some invisible court; and
when their cries were particularly joyous, Everychild and the Sleeping
Beauty glanced at each other and smiled indulgently.
At length the voices of the children became inaudible; and a moment
later Cinderella entered the room. She stood an instant, her hands on
her hips and an almost impatient expression in her eyes; and then she
approached Everychild and the Sleeping Beauty.
Everychild glanced up at her with a slightly patronizing smile. "Well,
Cinderella?" he asked.
She put her hair back rather energetically and exclaimed--"Oh, I'm
bored. That's the honest truth. Those games out there--they _do_ get
so tiresome. And Grettel is such a simpleton, really. She keeps
saying 'Think of something else for us to play, Cinderella--think of
something else.' She never thinks of anything herself. Neither does
Hansel, nor any of them."
She sighed and glanced back the way she had come, and it was to be
noted that the sound of playing had not been resumed.
It was the Sleeping Beauty who replied. "Never mind, Cinderella," she
said. "You know I realize quite well what it is to be bored." She had
spoken gently; and now she smiled with a certain playfulness. "The
prince with the missing slipper will find you soon enough. You've only
to be patient, and the day will come when you'll seldom be bored any
more."
"I don't know, I'm sure," said Cinderella; and with perfect candor she
added, "Aren't _you_ bored? You look it: sitting there as if you
hadn't a single thought in your head."
The Sleeping Beauty laughed. "You dear, foolish thing!" she replied.
"Bored? The idea! I'm perfectly happy. Of course, there are
times . . ." She broke off and meditated, and actually sighed. "Come,
we'll go and look at the goldfish," she added briskly.
They went away together, taking cradle and all. All of a sudden they
seemed as energetic as sparrows. They seemed for the moment really
indifferent to Everychild, who remained in his chair alone.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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