The Talking Horse, and Other Tales. Anstey F.
jewels looked like the things you get on crackers!' said Belle, tossing her head.
'Now we shall have a little rest, I hope,' chimed in Cathie.
'I shall send her home to her parents this very night,' declared Aunt Margarine; 'she shall not stay here to pervert our happy household with her miserable gewgaws!'
Here Priscilla found her tongue. 'Do you think I want to stay?' she said proudly; 'I see now that you only wanted to have me here because – because of the horrid jewels, and I never knew they were false, and I let you have them all, every one, you know I did; and I wanted you to mind what I said and not trouble about picking them up, but you would do it! And now you all turn round upon me like this! What have I done to be treated so? What have I done?'
'Bravo, Prissie!' cried Dick. 'Mother, if you ask me, I think it serves us all jolly well right, and it's a downright shame to bullyrag poor Prissie in this way!'
'I don't ask you,' retorted his mother, sharply; 'so you will kindly keep your opinions to yourself.'
'Tra-la-la!' sang rude Dick, 'we are a united family – we are, we are, we are!' – a vulgar refrain he had picked up at one of the burlesque theatres he was only too fond of frequenting.
But Priscilla came to him and held out her hand quite gratefully and humbly. 'Thank you, Dick,' she said; 'you are kind, at all events. And I am sorry you couldn't have your horse-shoe pin!'
'Oh, hang the horse-shoe pin!' exclaimed Dick, and poor Priscilla was so thoroughly cast down that she quite forgot to reprove him.
She was not sent home that night after all, for Dick protested against it in such strong terms that even Aunt Margarine saw that she must give way; but early on the following morning Priscilla quitted her aunt's house, leaving her belongings to be sent on after her.
She had not far to walk, and it so happened that her way led through the identical lane in which she had met the fairy. Wonderful to relate, there, on the very same stone and in precisely the same attitude, sat the old lady, peering out from under her poke-bonnet, and resting her knotty old hands on her crutch-handled stick!
Priscilla walked past with her head in the air, pretending not to notice her, for she considered that the fairy had played her a most malicious and ill-natured trick.
'Heyday!' said the old lady (it is only fairies who can permit themselves such old-fashioned expressions nowadays). 'Heyday, why, here's my good little girl again! Isn't she going to speak to me?'
'No, she's not,' said Priscilla – but she found herself compelled to stop, notwithstanding.
'Why, what's all this about? You're not going to sulk with me, my dear, are you?'
'I think you're a very cruel, bad, unkind old woman for deceiving me like this!'
'Goodness me! Why, didn't the jewels come, after all?'
'Yes – they came, only they were all horrid artificial ones – and it is a shame, it is!' cried poor Priscilla from her bursting heart.
'Artificial, were they? that really is very odd! Can you account for that at all, now?'
'Of course I can't! You told me that they would drop out whenever I said anything to improve people – and I was always saying something improving! Aunt had a bandbox in her room quite full of them.'
'Ah, you've been very industrious, evidently; it's unfortunate your jewels should all have been artificial – most unfortunate. I don't know how to explain it, unless' – (and here the old lady looked up queerly from under her white eyelashes), 'unless your goodness was artificial too?'
'How do you mean?' asked Priscilla, feeling strangely uncomfortable. 'I'm sure I've never done anything the least bit naughty – how can my goodness possibly be artificial?'
'Ah, that I can't explain; but I know this – that people who are really good are generally the last persons to suspect it, and the moment they become aware of it and begin to think how good they are, and how bad everybody else is, why, somehow or other, their goodness crumbles away and leaves only a sort of outside shell behind it. And – I'm very old, and of course I may be mistaken – but I think (I only say I think, mind) that a little girl so young as you must have some faults hidden about her somewhere, and that perhaps on the whole she would be better employed in trying to find them out and cure them before she attempted to correct those of other people. And I'm sure it can't be good for any child to be always seeing herself in a little picture, just as she likes to fancy other people see her. Very many pretty books are written about good little girls, and it is quite true that children may exercise a great influence for good – more than they can ever tell, perhaps – but only just so long as they remain natural and unconscious, and not unwholesome little pragmatical prigesses; for then they make themselves and other people worse than they might have been. But of course, my dear, you never made such a mistake as that!'
Priscilla turned very red, and began to scrape one of her feet against the other; she was thinking, and her thoughts were not at all pleasant ones.
'Oh, fairy,' she said at last, 'I'm afraid that's just what I did do. I was always thinking how good I was and putting everybody – papa, mamma, Alick, Betty, Aunt Margarine, Cathie, Belle, and even poor cousin Dick – right! I have been a horrid little hateful prig, and that's why all the jewels were rubbish. But, oh, shall I have to go on talking sham diamonds and things all the rest of my life?'
'That,' said the fairy, 'depends entirely on yourself. You have the remedy in your own hands – or lips.'
'Ah, you mean I needn't talk at all? But I must – sometimes. I couldn't bear to be dumb as long as I lived – and it would look so odd, too!'
'I never said you were not to open your lips at all. But can't you try to talk simply and naturally – not like little girls or boys in any story-books whatever – not to "show off" or improve people; only as a girl would talk who remembers that, after all, her elders are quite as likely as she is to know what they ought or ought not to do and say?'
'I shall forget sometimes, I know I shall!' said Priscilla disconsolately.
'If you do, there will be something to remind you, you know. And by and by, perhaps, as you grow up you may, quite by accident, say something sincere and noble and true – and then a jewel will fall which will really be of value!'
'No!' cried Priscilla, 'no, please! Oh, fairy, let me off that! If I must drop them, let them be false ones to punish me – not real. I don't want to be rewarded any more for being good – if I ever am really good!'
'Come,' said the fairy, with a much pleasanter smile, 'you are not a hopeless case, at all events. It shall be as you wish, then, and perhaps it will be the wisest arrangement for all parties. Now run away home, and see how little use you can make of your fairy gift.'
Priscilla found her family still at breakfast.
'Why,' observed her father, raising his eyebrows as she entered the room, 'here's our little monitor – (or is it monitress, eh, Priscilla?) – back again. Children, we shall all have to mind our p's and q's – and, indeed, our entire alphabet, now!'
'I'm sure,' said her mother, kissing her fondly, 'Priscilla knows we're all delighted to have her home!'
'I'm not,' said Alick, with all a boy's engaging candour.
'Nor am I,' added Betty, 'it's been ever so much nicer at home while she's been away!'
Priscilla burst into tears as she hid her face upon her mother's protecting shoulder. 'It's true!' she sobbed, 'I don't deserve that you should be glad to see me – I've been hateful and horrid, I know – but, oh, if you'll only forgive me and love me and put up with me a little, I'll try not to preach and be a prig any more – I will truly!'
And at this her father called her to his side and embraced her with a fervour he had not shown for a very long time.
I should not like to go so far as to assert that no imitation diamond, ruby, pearl, or emerald ever proceeded from Priscilla's lips again. Habits are not cured in a day, and fairies – however old they may be –