Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 2Sylvester, Charles Herbert
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Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 2
Sylvester, Charles Herbert
Children's literature; Literature -- Collections
No. She leaves that for anxious parents and teachers (lazy ones, some
call them), who, instead of giving children a fair trial, such as they
would expect and demand for themselves, force them by fright to confess
their own faults--which is so cruel and unfair that no judge on the
bench dare do it to the wickedest thief or murderer, for the good
British law forbids it--ay, and even punish them to make them confess,
which is so detestable a crime that it is never committed now.
So the fairy just said nothing at all about the matter, not even when
Tom came next day with the rest for sweet things. He was horribly afraid
of coming, but he was still more afraid of staying away, lest any one
should suspect him. He was dreadfully afraid, too, lest there should be
no sweets--as was to be expected, he having eaten them all--and lest
then the fairy should inquire who had taken them. But behold! she pulled
out just as many as ever, which astonished Tom, and frightened him still
more.
And when the fairy looked him full in the face, he shook from head to
foot; however she gave him his share like the rest, and he thought
within himself that she could not have found him out.
But when he put the sweets into his mouth, he hated the taste of them;
and they made him so sick that he had to get away as fast as he could;
and terribly sick he was, and very cross and unhappy, all the week
after. Then, when next week came, he had his share again; and again the
fairy looked him full in the face; but more sadly than she had ever
looked. And he could not bear the sweets; but took them again in spite
of himself.
And when Mrs. Doasyouwouldbedoneby came, he wanted to be cuddled like
the rest; but she said very seriously: "I should like to cuddle you, but
I cannot; you are so horny and prickly."
And Tom looked at himself; and he was all over prickles, just like a sea
egg.
Which was quite natural; for you must know and believe that people's
souls make their bodies just as a snail makes its shell (I am not
joking, my little man; I am in serious, solemn earnest). And therefore,
when Tom's soul grew all prickly with naughty tempers, his body could
not help growing prickly too, so that nobody would cuddle him, or play
with him, or even like to look at him.
What could Tom do now but go away and hide in a corner and cry? For
nobody would play with him, and he knew full well why.
And he was so miserable all that week that when the ugly fairy came and
looked at him once more full in the face, more seriously and sadly than
ever, he could stand it no longer, and thrust the sweetmeats away,
saying, "No, I don't want any: I can't bear them now;" and then burst
out crying, poor little man, and told Mrs. Bedonebyasyoudid every word
as it happened.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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