The little green feet were trebling over the glass with a sound like
running water; and he himself began running at full speed, shot off
into the Wishing-Pot like a pellet from a pop-gun. Nothing could he
see of his dear but her wee green feet. But above them as they ran he
heard showery laughter, and he knew that his lady was there before
him, though invisible to the eye.
The Pot, now he was in it, seemed bigger than the biggest dome in the
world; to run all round it took him two or three minutes. Away in the
centre of its base stood a great opal knob, like the axle to a wheel
round which he and the green feet kept circling.
However much he wished and wished, the green feet still kept their
distance, for now he was _in_ the Wishing-Pot wishes availed him
nothing. The green feet flew faster than his; the light laugh rang
further and further away; right across to the other side of the hall
his lady had passed from him now.
The magic fires of the crystal leapt and crackled under his tread;
now it seemed as if his feet ran on a green lawn, out of which broke
crocuses and daffodils, and now roses reddened in the track, and now
the purple of grapes spurted across the path like spilled wine. The
sound of the green feet and the running of overhead laughter, as they
distanced him in front, came nearer and nearer behind him from across
the hall. He felt that he must follow and not turn, however beaten he
might be.
Presently a voice, that he knew was his Beloved's, cried,--
'Heart that would have me must hatch me!
Feet that would find me must catch me!
Man that would mate me must match me!'
Oh, how? wondered spent feet, and failing heart, and reeling brain.
He stumbled slower and slower in the race, till presently with quick
innumerable patterings the green feet grew closer, and were overtaking
him from the rear.
Warm breath was in his hair,--lips and a hand; he turned, open armed,
to snatch the mischievous morsel, but all that he clasped was a gust
of air; and he saw the green feet scudding out and away on a fresh
start before him.
Again, with laughter, the voice cried,--
'Lap for lap you must wind me:
Equal, before you can find me!
You are a lap behind me!'
Where they raced the surface of the glass sloped slightly to the
upward rise of its walls; Tulip shifted his ground, and ran where the
footing was leveller toward the centre, and the circle began to go
smaller. So he began to gain, till the green slippers, seeing how the
advantage had come about, shifted also in their turn.
Thus they ran on; there were no inner posts to mark the course, only
the great opal standing in the centre of all formed the pivot of the
race, and round and round it, a great way off, they ran.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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