Snow White 8

Snow White 8

"So do I say! and fezzers on their heads; and--and--so--well, anyhow,

you will show me all your treasures, you know, dwarf. You haven't

showed me any yet, not any at all. Where are they?"

 

"I haven't but one," said the dwarf. "And that I stole."

 

"Really stole it? but stealing is wicked, don't you know that? can

dwarfs do it? Mans can't, unless they are bad. Are dwarfs like mans at

all much, Mark?"

 

"Not much, Snow-white. But, after all, I did not steal my treasure, I

only found it."

 

The child was greatly relieved. That made it all right, she assured

him. Always everybody could keep the things they found, though of

course the wicked fairies and dragons tried to get the treasure away.

She cited many cases from the Fairy Books, and the dwarf said he felt a

great deal better.

 

"Tell me all about it," she urged. "Tell me that story what you said

you knew. You haven't told me any story at all yet, Mark!"

 

She looked at him with marked disapproval. "It isn't the way they do!"

she explained. "Why, when the Bear came to Snow-white and Rosy Red's

house, he told them stories all the time till he turned into a prince."

 

"Yes, but I am not a bear," said the dwarf, "and I am not going to turn

into a prince, you see. However, I will tell you a story, Snow-white, I

truly will; only, you see, that poor cow has to be milked."

 

"All I forgot her!" cried the child. "Now we will hurry, Mark, and run.

We will run all the way. You can't run much faster than me, 'cause your

legs is short, too. Are you glad? I am! 'Most I wish I was a dwarf, to

stay little like you."

 

"Come!" said the man. His voice sounded rough and harsh; but when the

child looked up, startled, he took her in his arms, and kissed her very

tenderly, and set her on his back. He would be her horse now, he said,

and give her a good ride. And wasn't the hump comfortable to sit on?

now she must hold on tight, and he would trot.

 

He trotted gently through the green wood, and the child shouted with

joy, and jumped up and down on the hump. It was a round, smooth hump,

and made a good seat.

 

They did not get on very fast, in spite of the trotting, there was so

much to see by the way. Little paths wound here and there through the

forest, as if some one walked in it a great deal. The trees in this

part were mostly pine and hemlock, and the ground was covered with

a thick carpet of brown needles. The hermit thrush called them from

deeper depths of woodland; close by, squirrels frisked and chattered

among the branches, and dropped bits of pine-cone on the child's head.

Were they tame? she asked; the dwarf said she should judge for herself.

They sat down, and he bade her keep still, and then gave a queer

whistle. Presently a squirrel came, then another, and another, till

there were half a dozen of them, gray and red, with one little striped

beauty. They sat up on the brown needles, and looked at the dwarf with

bright, asking eyes. He took some nuts from his pocket, and then there

was a scramble for his knee and his shoulder, and he fed them, talking

to them the while, they whisking their tails and cocking their heads,

and taking the nuts in their paws as politely as possible. One big gray

fellow made a little bow, and that was charming to see.

 

"Good boy!" said the dwarf. "Good old Simeon! I taught him to do that,

Snow-white. You need not be afraid, Sim. This is only Snow-white. She

has come to do my cooking and all my work, and she will not touch you.

His name is Simeon Stylites, and he lives on a pillar--I mean a dead

tree, with all the branches gone. Simeon, if you are greedy, you'll get

no more. Consider the example you have to set!"

 

"Why is he named that?" asked the child.

 

"Because when he sits up straight on top of his tree, and folds his

paws, he looks like an old gentleman of that name, who used to live on

top of a pillar, a long time ago."

 

"Why did he? but why couldn't he get down? but how did he get up? what

did he have to eat? why don't you tell me?"

 

"I never thought much about his getting up," said the dwarf. "I suppose

he must have shinned, don't you? and as for getting down, he just

didn't. He stayed there. He used to let down a basket every day, or

whenever he was hungry, and people put food in it, and then he pulled

it up. What did they put? Oh, figs, I suppose, and black bread, and

honey. Rather fun, don't you think, to see what would come up?"

 

The child sprang up and clapped her hands. "Mark," she cried, "I will

be him!"

 

"On a pillar?" said the dwarf. "See, you have frightened Simeon away,

and he hadn't had half enough; and you couldn't possibly climb his

tree, Snow-white."

 

"In your tree! in the hole! it will be _just_ as good as Little Kid

Milk. Not in _any_ of the stories a little girl did that; all mineself

I will do it. I love you, Mark!"

 

She flung her arms around his neck and hugged him till he choked. When

the soft arms loosened their hold, his eyes were dark.

 

"You love me because I have a tree?" he said, "and because you like the

things in the china pots?"

 

"Yes!" said the child, "and because you are a dwarf, and because you

are nice. _Most_ because you are nice, Mark, when those other dwarfs is

yellow and horrid and all kinds of things."

 

"All right!" said the dwarf. "I love you, too. Now soon we are coming

to the cow. We must hurry, Snow-white."

 

But it was not easy to hurry. He had to look and see how the ferns were

unrolling, and to say what they looked like. The child thought they

were like the little brown cakes, only green, what you bought them at

the cake-shop. Didn't he know the cake-shop? but could he buy things?

did they let dwarfs buy things just as if they were mans? could he have

money, or did he have to dig up pearls and diamonds and rubies, out of

the ground? was there a place here where he dug them up? when would he

show it to her?

 

Then there were the anemones just out; and at sight of them the child

jumped up and down, and had to be told what they were. The name was

very funny, she thought.

 

"I can make a song wiz that!" she said, and then she sang:

 

"Any money, ain't it funny?

Ain't it funny, any money?

 

"It hasn't any money, this frower hasn't. All it's white, just like

milk. Do you like money, Mark?"

 

"No, I hate it!"

 

"Me, too!" cried the child, bubbling into a laugh. "In my bank, I had

lots and lots of money; and the man with the black shirt said about the

poor children, and so I took it out and gave it to him, and then they

said I couldn't have it back!"

 

"Who said so?" asked the dwarf.

 

"Miss Tyler! Well, but so I said I would, and so she punished me, and

so I beat her, and she said to stay in my room, and I runned away. Are

you glad I runned away, Mark?"

 

"Very glad, to-day, Snow-white; I don't know how it will be to-morrow.

But tell me what you wanted to do with your money!"

 

It appeared that the child wanted to buy candy, and a pony, and a

watch, and a doll with wink-eyes and hair down to her feet, and a real

stove, and a popgun, and--what was this place?

 

The wood broke open suddenly, and there was a bit of pasture-land, with

rocks scattered about, and a little round blue pond, and by the pond a

brown cow grazing. At the sound of voices the cow raised her head, and

seeing the dwarf, lowed gently and began to move leisurely toward him.

 

The child clapped her hands and danced. "Is she saying 'hurrah'?" she

cried. "Does she love you? do you love her? is she"--her voice dropped

suddenly--"is she real, Mark?"

 

"Real, Snow-white? Why, see her walk! Did you think I wound her up?

She's too big; and besides, I haven't been near her."

 

The child brushed these remarks aside with a wave. "Does she stay all

the time a cow?" she whispered, putting her mouth close to the dwarf's

ear. "Or does she turn at night into a princess?" She drew back and

pointed a stern finger at him. "Tell me the troof, Mark!"

 

The dwarf was very humble. So far as he knew, he said, she was a real

cow. She mooed like one, and she acted like one; moreover, he had

bought her for one. "But you see," he added, "I don't stay here at

night, so how can I tell?"

 

They both looked at the cow, who returned the stare with unaffected

interest, but with no appearance of any hidden meaning in her calm

brown gaze.

 

"I think," said the child, after a long, searching inspection, "I

think--she's--only just a cow!"

 

"I think so, too," said the dwarf, in a tone of relief. "I'm glad,

aren't you, Snow-white? I think it would be awkward to have a princess.

Now I'll milk her, and you can frisk about and pick flowers."

 

The child frisked merrily for a time. She found a place where there

were some brownish common-looking leaves; and stepping on them just to

hear them crackle, there was a pink flush along the ground, and lo! a

wonder of mayflowers. They lay with their rosy cheeks close against the

moss, and seemed to laugh out at the child; and she laughed, too, and

danced for joy, and put some of them in her hair. Then she picked more,

and made a posy, and ran to stick it in the dwarf's coat. He looked

lovely, she told him, with the pink flowers in his gray coat; she said

she didn't care much if he never turned into anything; he was nice

enough the way he was; and the dwarf said it was just as well, and he

was glad to hear it.

 

"And you look _so_ nice when you smile in your eyes like that, Mark! Ithink I'll kiss you now."