THE STORY OF MAGGIE'S JOURNEY.
Little Maggie lived all alone in a small house which contained but oneroom. She had lived alone ever since the time her mother had gone to thepalace of the Great King. At first Maggie had cried very bitterly tothink of living alone without her mother; so did her mother, too, as forthat matter, for no mother ever loved her child more dearly than she didMaggie.
"Maggie," she had said to her, when she knew she must go, "I shall loveyou just as tenderly as ever, and always think of you, even while I amin the Great King's palace. It is a long journey thither, and I expect Ishall be obliged to go through a great many dark and strange placesbefore coming there; and I fear, the most of all, to leave you in thislittle old house all alone; but you know I cannot disobey the King, andso must follow this servant whom he has sent to bring me. But, O,Maggie, do follow me _some time_, for I shall be anxiously watching foryou till you come! Be sure, now, and don't disappoint me; and when youcome I think you had better start early in the morning, for the road isa long and dangerous one."
Perhaps this was a long speech to make; but when mothers go on suchjourneys as Maggie's mother was to go on, it is not an unusual customfor them to do so,--and especially when we remember how she would leaveMaggie all alone; it was only to be wondered she said no more.
When her mother had really gone, the first thing Maggie did was to sitdown upon the door-step and cry bitterly. She could not bear to thinkher mother had really gone, and that if ever she wanted to see her shemust start upon that long, long journey. At first I don't think sheloved to think about the Great King who had taken her mother away, andshe was obliged to think over the beautiful things her mother had saidof him many times, before she could be glad he had called her mother.But at last she rose from the door-step, and went into the house. Shehad not much in it, 'tis true; she hadn't much to put in it; and if shehad had more, the house was so small there would have been no place foranything but what already was there. The principal thing in the room wasthe chimney-place. It was so large as to cover the whole of one side ofthe room. There was a broad stone hearth, on which sometimes Maggiewould place a few sticks she had picked up in the streets, and lightthem; but the little fire they made looked just as if it were ashamed ofitself for burning in such a great fireplace; and the winds, indignantat its presumption, would rush down the chimney at a more desperate ratethan usual, blowing the ashes into Maggie's eyes, as she sat before thelittle fire, and sending the smoke curling in funny forms about theroom. So Maggie would run and cover herself in her poor bed, and say toherself that it was a comfort to have ashes and smoke; for, though theydid blow in her eyes, still they came from the fire. Sometimes she wouldgather up sawdust, and by this fire she was able to warm her feet alittle, though not much; for, as fast as she warmed them, the windsblew down again, so they were as cold as before.
You see it was a cold kind of a place in which Maggie lived; so coldthat, although it was summer, still a good many people's hearts werefrozen quite stiff, so their friends despaired of their ever beingthawed out; and their tongues too were affected, so they could not speakgentle, kind words. I don't mean to say the cold ever dealt quite soshabbily by Maggie or Maggie's mother, which was rather strange,perhaps, since they could have but little fire; and the frost could walkvery boldly in through the cracks all about the house. Still it wasalmost as bad that such things should happen to their neighbors, asevery one knows it is uncomfortable to behold such misery.
Beside the chimney-place and bed, Maggie had some cracked plates andsaucers, which she arranged on the chimney-shelf, and some bits ofchina, which she had found in piles of rubbish, and which she thoughtvery beautiful. Now the chimney-shelf was very high, and she managed toput these things up there by climbing up the bed-post, which was rathera dangerous thing for her to do, and as it was a very little difficult,too, she did not often take down those things.
Now those cracked plates and saucers, and bits of china, were all theornaments Maggie had for her house; and they were very precious to her.She would sit and look at them, _wondering_ what people did who hadn'tgot any, and thinking how strange it would seem there in her house ifthey were taken away. You see Maggie knew how to prize little things;and so some day great ones may fall to her.
I did wrong to say she lived all alone; for she had a beautiful whiteDove. Wasn't it nice? It was very white, and nestled close in Maggie'sbosom when she carried it out of the house, and in the night it layclose to her heart. O, there was nothing Maggie prized like the Dove;for it was given her by her mother just before she went away, and shetold her it would guide her when she began her journey; so it was notstrange Maggie should love it so well.
It was a lovely, sensitive thing. When Maggie had become thoroughlyweary and tired of living all alone by herself, she told her grief tothe Dove, and it would press nearer and nearer to her heart, and whenits mistress' tears fell on its head, its moans were so sorrowful thatMaggie quickly forgot her own grief, and strove to comfort it.
Now it was in the summer time, and Maggie got along pretty well, for allthe cold winds which blew in that region; but winter was coming on, andshe feared it might be more uncomfortable for her. It happened, onenight, that she heard a great noise, and awoke in a great fright. Themoon shone very brightly, and, by its light, she saw a tall,strong-looking man carrying away her door. At first she thought she mustbe mistaken, and that, if she waited a while, she would see that he wasabout to do something very different. But no; he took first the doorwell off the hinges, put the hinges in his pocket, the door on his back,and went off. Then Maggie jumped quickly from her bed, and, running tothe open doorway, cried out,
"Don't take my door; I live here."
But the man certainly did not hear Maggie; at all events he did not onceturn back, but went away quite out of sight.
"But what could he want with my door?" said Maggie, in a high state ofamazement. "Houses all have doors; so he can't want it for his house."She stood a long time, wondering and perplexed; and I must acknowledge,if I had been there, I should have wondered too. It was quite a longtime before Maggie could persuade herself to go to bed again, and sleeptill morning, which she finally did, feeling very thankful the mandidn't take the bed.
In the morning a new joy was in store for her; she found that the sunnow, when it rose, could look directly in upon her, and his warm rayswould give warmth to her little room. As she looked up to themantel-shelf, on which her bits of broken china were glowing from thesunshine, she jumped out of bed in an ecstasy of delight.
"O, dear, dear!" she cried, "what if that man had taken away those?--howI should have cried! But now he has, by taking the door, given the sun achance to make them look more beautiful!"
Now she began to love the sun better than ever, for he had become one ofthe things which beautified her little home; and she always woke early,so as to meet his first look, when he came into the room.
Still it must be confessed that the absence of her door did at timesmake her poor home more desolate; when, for instance, the winds wentmad, and the rain came down in torrents from the clouds, O, such afrolicking as there was down her large chimney, and out through thedoorway! Then round and round the house they would run, chasing eachother,--now bursting into a boisterous mirth, now howling in low, dulltones, until in again at the door they swept, and up through thechimney.
In Maggie's mind, the chimney and open doorway belonged especially tothe winds. She always thought of them in connection, and, when theybegan their frolicking, she would seat herself in one corner, andlisten. Sometimes it seemed as though the winds rushed at oneanother,--one coming down the chimney, and the other in at the door;then, when they met, there was a kind of explosion, a thick, quickquarrel, and then they would draw off in merry laughter; then wouldMaggie clap her hands with glee, thinking it fine sport; but when awhole blast burst at once upon the house, and seemed desperately tostruggle through every crevice, she would crouch with fear, and upbraidthe winds with their sudden freaks.
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There was one mystery which Maggie found herself unable to unravel; itwas this: She felt perfectly certain the chimney was made for the windsto come down through, and still she knew it was intended for her to makea smoky kind of fire once in a while on its hearth, with which the windsquarrelled, and destroyed it. Here were two things irreconcilable. Oftenwould she stand on the hearth, and look up the black throat of thechimney, wondering how this inconsistency happened, wishing again andagain that the winds would like the fire, and let it burn well; but shenever thought of asking them to desist. She looked upon their freaks asprivileged.
To the dear Dove did Maggie always turn for comfort and relief. Its lovewas a guarantee of her mother's, and, as often as she looked upon andheld it to her heart, so often did she feel sure that one day she wouldfeel the pressure of her mother's hand upon her head.
Once, when Maggie was talking to the Dove, and thinking of her mother,it came into her head to begin that journey to the Great King's palace."Why not?" said she; "why do I live here? The cold winter is coming, andmy door is gone, and the sun already gives me warning that he shall notlook in at the door as usual; the neighbors will be colder than ever,and some of them will quite freeze. I've a mind to go away. What do youthink, Dovey?"
The Dove nestled close to her heart, and cooed joyfully.
"Would you like it? Well, I don't know but I had better start. But Ishould have to leave the house,--and that would be rather bad,--and thechimney where the winds play. I think it would seem lonesome for them,and I don't know as they would like it, for there would be no one tolisten to them; still I do want to go, and I think I'd better."
"I'm sure," said Maggie, after some pause, during which she lovinglycaressed the Dove's head, "I'm sure I don't see why I didn't go before.I don't know why I should have lived here so long alone. I can take someof the best china, and leave all the rest. Perhaps some little child maylike to live here after I am gone, and watch the winds as I have done;but I do hope they won't frighten her at first, or she will want to goaway."
Maggie was an expeditious child, and when she had decided to dosomething, she went at once about accomplishing it. So she left thedoor-step on which she had been sitting, and went in the house, to seewhat she wanted to take; and, as she had so few things, the preparationswere not long, but she soon found herself with her blanket pinned overher head, ready to start.
'Tis true a few tears came into her eyes as she bid farewell to the bedwhich had been her shelter against every unpleasant sight and sound; butwhen she turned to the chimney, and some perplexing thought of thequarrels of the wind and the fire came over her, she rather rejoiced shewould soon be away from it, where this one mystery of theirdisagreement should never again trouble her.
Laying the white Dove in her bosom, she turned from the house, and sobeheld herself fairly launched on her journey.
A little while she found it pleasant; the road was straight, and linedwith flowers; the Dove raised his head, and looked in Maggie's eyes withdelight.
But soon she came to a place where two roads met, forming the one shehad been travelling. Here was a perplexity: which should she take--whichwould lead her where she wanted to go?
There was a house close by; so she stepped up to the door of it, andknocked. A lady, who was very pretty to look at, and who wore a veryrich dress, opened the door; but just at the moment when Maggie asked,"Will you tell me which road leads to the palace of the Great King?"that same terrible cold wind came round and blew directly into thelady's mouth, so that she replied, "I know nothing about it, and verymuch doubt if there be any Great King at all;" and then she shut thedoor in great haste, leaving poor Maggie in much distress and doubt.
She was astonished at the woman's words, and wondered why she shut thedoor so soon; for, if she had not, she would have told her about theKing; how she was sure he was alive, and had a great palace. And, too,she could have told her, his servant had come once and taken her motherwith him, and she could never forget him; he had been dressed in black,but on his head he wore a crown of the most glorious stars, and theirbrightness had filled the little house with holy light, so that, evenafter he had departed, it still lingered around.
She thought some of knocking again and telling the poor lady, for shethought it was sad enough not to know about the Great King; but, thoughshe knocked a long time, no one came to the door, and, finally, she wasobliged to leave the steps of the house and gather some directionselse-where.
One of the roads seemed cold, and looked narrow, and Maggie, who hadsuffered so much from the cold, turned from it with a shudder towardsthe other, which looked much gayer, and many more people walked in it;but the Dove looked anxiously towards the narrow one, which grievedMaggie, and made her cry out, "O, Dovey, Dovey! how can you love thecold so well, or ask me to go where it is? Let us rather walk this way alittle, and do you not see there are plenty of cross-roads?--so, if wewish, we can go on to that narrow road at any time."
So, notwithstanding the Dove's remonstrances, Maggie entered this road,and found the air so pleasant and warm, that she liked nothing betterthan to walk in it.
She saw a great many people here; but they took no notice of the littlegirl, who walked along so quietly, with her Dove in her bosom, and thebits of china in her pocket. But, if they did not notice her, shenoticed them well, and thought them strange enough.
To her surprise she found the air, which had at first seemed so warm,began to grow cold, and more like the air about the old house; and,shivering with cold, and seeing the people about her wearing largecloaks, it was quite natural she should ask them to let her in beneaththe warm folds of them. To her civil request some of them paid noattention; others looked at her in wonder, and some were so rude as tospeak cruel words to her, and bid her not dare speak to them again.
So Maggie saw them walk on, wrapped in their warm cloaks, and complainednot. Indeed, she had lived too long in the little house without a door,not to be able to bear the cold bravely--only she could not help wishingsometimes that she had the bed with her, that she might jump in betweenits clothes and warm herself a while; but she was patient, rememberingthat she was journeying towards the Great King's palace, where hermother lived. Suddenly it occurred to her that the road to the GreatKing's palace lay through a remarkably cold country, and that the peoplewho were travelling thither seemed in no haste, for they often sat downby the road-side and played; and some even went back, instead offorward, while all those little side-roads, which she thought she hadseen before, had vanished. So, one day, she said to one of the peoplewho sat down:
"Why do you not hasten that you may see the Great King?"
"The Great King, indeed!" he said whom she had addressed. "I am in nohurry to see him."
And others intimated as much as the lady long ago had said, that theythemselves doubted very much if there were any Great King at all.
"What shall I do?" cried Maggie. "I cannot be in the right way. O, howshall I get to the Great King's palace!" And, upon this, the Dove roseup from Maggie's bosom, and turned backwards whither they had come.Though long and dreary seemed the cold road she must retrace, yet, suchwas her confidence in the Dove, she turned very gladly; and though notone of those people had cared for Maggie before, now they clusteredaround her, begging her not to leave them, and seeking to draw her awayfrom her purpose. And when she saw how they seemed to love her, and feelsorrow at her going, she said to them:
"I am grieved to leave you, since you have just begun to love me; but Ipromised my mother I would go to the Great King's palace, and I must gowhere Dovey leads me."
"How silly to mind a bird!" cried one; and, picking up a stone, hehurled it at the Dove, who was hovering in the air, and broke its wing,so it could not fly.
Then, indeed, it seemed as though her grief was very great, and shecould not help wishing she were already in the Great King's palace, orthat he would send his servant for her, who was dressed in the blackrobe, and wore the crown of stars. She often saw this servant now; hecame t
o bear many away; but the crown of stars was not on his brow, andhis face shed no light around, only gloom.
Well, Maggie was obliged to stop and bind up the Dove's wing, and tendit a little before she could proceed on her journey. All delay wasunwelcome to her; for, as the journeying thus far had been in pain, thetrue journey was still to begin. She was so hungry and thirsty, too! Soit seemed impossible she could proceed when once she had startedforward. There was no one to give her a crust of bread, or offer her acup of cold water; nevertheless, she wouldn't tell the poor Dove, whowas moaning with pain, for she thought, and well enough, that he had asmuch of his own trouble as he could well endure.
She had another trouble, too; there were some people whom she could notthink desired to go away from the King's palace, and so she would tellthem how they were going altogether in the wrong path; but they wouldeither laugh or stare at her in wonder. Then she would almost have stoodweeping in the road at their strange conduct, but the Dove wouldincessantly warn her to go on. At last, between grief and hunger, shefell sick, and thought she should die there, without ever seeing hermother or the Great King. But, lo! a gentle being, clothed in a white,spotless garment, came and put to her lips a cup of medicine, which shetold Maggie, if she would but drink, would make her quite well again,and protect her against hunger and thirst for the rest of the journey.Upon this, Maggie drank it all but the dregs, and she found it so bitterthat she thought it far worse than any cold she had ever endured. But,when the bright being saw she left the dregs in her cup, she was notsatisfied, and bade her drink those, even with tears in her eyes. Maggiedrank them as she bade her, and then the bright one vanished, leavingthe child quite well and vigorous. The weariness vanished from herframe, the parching thirst from her mouth, and, what was yet moreamazing, she found the little Dove quite well, and she stood with it inher arms before the two roads again.
So she commenced her journey upon the road she had so long ago rejected,and soon found that the snow vanished from the ground and shook itselffrom the tree-tops; the grass sprang up, the flowers played beneath herfootsteps, and gay birds hopped among the boughs of the trees, makingthe air melodious with their songs; the brooklets ran murmuring by theroad-side, and Maggie's Dove cooed with joy.
O, Maggie knew this was the road leading to the palace of the GreatKing--the very one her mother had travelled--the road, too, which shehad been told did not exist! She met many children here, who sought thesame she did; and they talked with Maggie, and she loved them, and withthem thanked the King who had made for them such a lovely road to hispalace.
At last, one day, there came the same servant who had carried away herbrother, and gently, softly, took her in his arms. So often had shethought of his coming that she felt no kind of fear. He told her thatthe Great King wanted her, and that her mother was all ready to receiveher. O, how her heart leaped at this, to hear a real word from hermother, and to think the Great King wanted her! As she lay in his arms,the servant, who wore on his head his bright stars, kissed her eyes andher brow. He carried her a long distance, sped through many a long, darkvalley, and then they came out upon a bright shore, where were manypeople dressed in shining clothes.
Maggie looked at herself, and saw, with amazement, that she too wasdressed likewise, and that the servant who had brought her hither had nolonger a black robe, but a silver one, which sparkled so, Maggie wasscarce able to look upon it. She had soon crossed the sea, and then hermother caught her in her arms, and wept for joy.
"O, Maggie, Maggie!" she said; "I have watched your journey all along,and my sorrow was so deep when I saw you mistake the roads. It was Iwhom the Great King sent when you was sick, that I might bear his loveto you, and make you well. Come, now, and go with me before his throne."
Upon this they joined the crowd who were entering the palace;--but wecannot enter it,--we must first finish our journey.