Fairy Circles: Tales and Legends of Giants, Dwarfs, Fairies, Water-Sprites, and HobgoblinsVillamaria
Science
Fairy Circles: Tales and Legends of Giants, Dwarfs, Fairies, Water-Sprites, and Hobgoblins
Villamaria
Children's stories; Fairy tales; Legends
He nodded kindly to the boy, took the cloak from his shoulder, spread
it on the rock, and placed himself on it, staff in hand, and with the
burden on his shoulders. Immediately the mantle rose, and hovered
before the boy's astonished eyes, bearing the little man up into the
air. The old man waved farewell from his airy height; then he pointed
southwards with his staff, and swift as an arrow flew the magic mantle
towards his far-off home. The boy watched the wonderful journey with
devoutly folded hands. Like the beat of eagle's wings was the motion
of the dark garment through the white clouds, and the little man kept
his balance perfectly, he guiding his flight with the staff in his
left hand, while the magic mirror in his right gleamed in the beams of
the morning sun like the diadem of carbuncles on the head of the
serpent queen. The last flash died away at last, and the boy sat once
more alone on his rocky seat, dreamily gazing on the gold coin in his
hand. It had evidently passed through many a hand before, for it
needed a sharp eye to trace the impression on its surface; on one side
the lion of San Marco stretched his royal limbs, and with raised head
kept guard over Venice, the Queen of the Sea, whose foot the Adriatic
kisses with its caressing waves, wedded to her anew each year by the
Doge's ring. The other side bore the name of one of the rulers of that
proud Republic. It was scarcely legible, and it had been long eclipsed
by a younger glory.
The boy, indeed, had no key to the understanding of the image and
inscription, but he felt confident the gift out of such a hand must
bring blessing in spite of its mean appearance, and so he kept the
coin carefully in his pocket. To-day he started joyfully at the tone
of the evening bell, said his prayer with more than usual fervour, and
hastened with winged feet after his thriving flock.
"Just look, dear mother, what I have brought you," he cried joyfully
through the window of the cottage, showing the old man's gift. "Do not
despise it," he begged earnestly, as he saw his mother's doubting
smile; "he told me not to despise it, the kind, powerful man who gave
it to me. Put it with your savings, and let us see what will happen."
As he spoke, his eyes shone so brightly with joy and confidence that
his good mother could not bear to vex him by her doubts; she promised
to lay the gold piece in the drawer, and bade her boy good night with
a loving smile.
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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