The Fairies and the Christmas Child Page 3

  Chapter III

  Rose Marie and the Poupican.

  It was spring time when we left for Brittany. Father had been thereonce with Mother, and thought he would like to go again. So I saidgoodbye to my Flower-Fairy, and promised that if I could I would comeback one day to see her.

  The sunny air of the south had done Father good, and now he was almostwell. While we were in the train he read from the guide book, and toldme about curious "dolmens," or mounds of stone, which are supposedto have been built to mark the ancients' burying places. There werehundreds of these in Brittany, he said, and I was glad, for I knew theywere haunted by "Gorics" and "Courils"--strange Fairies of olden times.

  That very first evening, while Father was writing letters, I slippedaway by myself instead of going to bed, for I wanted to see a Poupican.A Poupican, you must know, is the dwarf-child of a Korrigan--a Fairy wholooks lovely by night and horrible by day, and cares for nothing so thatshe gets what she wants. Korrigans are said to have been princesses indays gone by, but they were so cruel and selfish that someone laid themunder a spell, which lasts for thousands of years unless a mortal breaksit. On account of the wicked things they said their mouths are alwaysdry, and they are consumed by thirst; so they chose their homes bystreams and fountains, of which there are many in Brittany.

  Father had been telling me that there was a famous fountain in a woodnot far from our hotel, and I thought I might find them here. Thefountain was hidden behind a grove of fir-trees, but the moon shonedown on its rough grey stones, and turned the square pond of water infront of it into a silver mirror.

  At first there seemed to be no one there, but when my eyes had grownused to the gloom I saw a number of Elves about two feet in height, withmisty white veils wound round their bodies. A cloth was spread besidethe fountain. It was covered with the loveliest things to eat--honey andfruit, and queer-shaped cakes sprinkled with sugar comfits--while inthe centre stood a crystal goblet, from which the moon drew flashes ofsoft fairy light. As I crouched in the ferns, a wee green Wood-Elf stoleup behind me; her tiny face was good and kind, and although she was sosmall that I could almost have held her in my hand, I felt she was thereto protect me.

  Then I turned my eyes to the crystal goblet and I grew thirsty all atonce; and I wondered what the Korrigans would do if I took a sip of theamber wine which filled it to the brim.

  "One drop would make you wise for ever," whispered the Wood-Elf, just asif I had spoken, "but you would be silent for ever, also. No mortal candrink that wine and live. The Korrigans pass it round to each other in agolden cup at the end of their feast, which takes place but once in theyear. It gives them power to work many charms, and to take the form ofanimals at will."

  The Hunter who shot the white Doe.

  "Once, in these very woods, a hunter shot a fair white doe, when tohis amazement, she spoke to him in a human voice. He was so touched byher reproaches that he tore his fine linen shirt into strips to bindup her wound, and then hurried off to the spring for water to quenchher thirst. It was dusk by the time he could get back to her, for thefirst spring he reached was dry, and instead of the milk-white doe, hefound a beauteous maiden, who threw herself on his bosom and entreatedhim not to leave her. For a year and a day he was under her spells,but he escaped in the end by making the sign of the cross with his twoforefingers. This sign puts a Korrigan to instant flight, for thingswhich are holy fill them with terror.... Ah! they have been at theirmischief again. Poor Annette will weep for this."

  The Wood-Elf stopped speaking, for running lightly over the grass,holding each other's long white veils so as to form a swinging cradle,came a group of nine smooth-limbed Korrigans, their red-gold hairtossing on the wind behind them. In the midst of the hanging cradle laya tiny baby, with widely opened eyes and a solemn pink face, sucking afat round thumb.

  "They have stolen him from his mother, while she dreamt of fairy gold,"the Wood-Elf sighed. "She should not have left her door on the latch;it was a sad mistake. In her little one's place there is now a Poupican.At first she will not know, but will fondle and kiss the changeling asif he were her own. After a while she will grieve to find that he givesher no love in return for hers, and plays as readily with strangers aswith his mother. But her husband, who is a hard man, will rejoice at thewee child's cleverness. For he will have an old head on young shoulders,and be wise beyond his years."

  While the Wood-Elf was speaking, poor Annette's baby lay contentedlybeside the crystal goblet, sucking his thumb and looking up at thestars. The Korrigans had left off singing now, and they were passinground the golden cup when there came on the wind the sound of a churchbell. Flinging the cup and the goblet into the pond, and staying onlyto wind the baby in their clinging veils, the Korrigans fled into thedarkness with cries of anguish. Some spell seemed to hold me, or Ishould have tried to rescue the little thing; for it was dreadful tothink what might happen to him with the Korrigans.

  But the Wood-Elf was quite comforting. "He will be well taken care of,"she said, "and someday Annette may break the spell, with the help of theCure. Rose-Marie got back her child by her own wit, but then she has thename of the blessed Mother. 'You would like to know how?' Then I mustspeak softly, lest a Korrigan should hear."

  Rose Marie and the Poupican.

  "Rose-Marie was very young when she married Pierre," began the Elf, "andnothing his mother or hers could say would induce her to beware ofKorrigans when her baby came.

  'They would not hurt him even if they could,' she cried. 'Who could harmanything so small and sweet?' And she actually set his cradle underthe cherry trees, so that his round pink face was covered with fallenpetals. Then she went to fetch Pierre from his sowing that he might seehow his little son was hidden under the spring snow, and lingered on herway to gather a cluster of purple violets.

  When she had disappeared, the Korrigans stole her baby, leaving aPoupican in the fragrant nest. The sun had gone in when she came back,and the little creature was wailing fretfully, Rose-Marie snatched himto her bosom and tried to soothe him, but from that day forward she hadno rest. Her milk was sweet and plentiful, and the cradle was soft andwarm, but he gave neither her nor her good man Pierre a moment's peace.All through the hours of the night he wailed, and tore at her hair whenshe held him close to her, scratching her face like an angry kitten.

  Rose-Marie and the Poupican]

  When he grew older, he was just as bad, for there was no end to hismischief. He shut the cat in a bin of flour, and opened the oven doorwhen Rose-Marie was baking, so that the bread was spoilt. He drove thehens into the brook, and cut the cord which tethered Pierre's white cow,so that she roamed for miles. And with all he did, he never uttered aword. It was this which first roused Rose-Marie's suspicions, and afterthat she watched him carefully.

  One morning she made up her mind to surprise him into speaking, and ashe sat beside the hearth, peering at her through his half-closed eyes,she set an egg shell on the fire, and placing in this a spoonful ofbroth, stirred it carefully with a silver pin. The Poupican was amazed,for it was nearing the dinner hour, and there would be ten to feed. Atlast he could contain himself no longer.

  'What are you doing, Mother?' he asked in a strange cracked voice.

  'I am preparing a meal for ten,' returned Rose-Marie, without lookinground.

  'For ten--in an eggshell?' he cried. 'I have seen an egg before a hen;I have seen the acorn before the oak; but never yet saw I folly such asthis!' And he fell to cackling like a full farmyard, rocking himselffrom side to side, and repeating, 'Such folly I never saw!' until evengentle Rose-Marie was moved to anger.

  'You have seen too much, my son,' she said, and lifting him up by thescruff of his neck in spite of his struggles, she carried him out ofthe house. Then, sitting down on a heap of stones beside the brook,she proceeded to whip him soundly. At his first cry of pain a Korriganappeared, in the shape of an ugly old woman with bleared red eyes andstraggling tresses. She was leading a curly-haired boy by the hand,the living image
of Pierre. As she released him he flew across thegrass to Rose-Marie and hid his face in her skirts.

  'Here is thy son!' croaked the Korrigan. 'I have fed him on meal andhoney, and he has learnt no evil. Give me my Poupican, and I will go.'

  So Rose-Marie gave up the Poupican, and with a thankful heart took herown son home."

  * * * * *

  "Do you know any more stories?" I asked when the Elf stopped for breath.I didn't want to go back just yet, for it was jolly in the wood, and Icould smell violets close by.

  "More than I can tell," replied the Elf, "but you shall hear whathappened to Peric and Jean."

  The Story of Peric and Jean.

  "In a beautiful valley not far from here a number of Korrigans wereaccustomed to gather on summer nights, for the grass was soft as velvet,and the mountains sheltered it from the breeze. None of the peasantsdare cross the valley after dark, lest they might be forced to jointheir revels; for it was known by all that the Korrigans must dancewhether they would or not, until some mortal should break the charm thathad been laid upon them.

  One evening, when the west was aglow with fire, a farmer was sent forto attend the sick bed of his mother, who lived on the other side ofthe valley. His wife and he had been at work all day in the fields,since labour was scarce and they were poor, and as both loved the oldwoman dearly, they hurried off without stopping to lay aside their_fourches_--little sticks which are still used in some parts ofBrittany as 'plough paddles.' By the time they were half-way acrossthe valley, the dusk had fallen, and they found themselves encircledby angry Korrigans, who shrieked with rage and made as if they wouldtear them to pieces. Before they had touched them, however, they allfell back, and a moment later broke into singing. This was theirsong:--

  'Lez y, Lez hon, (_Let him go, let him go_,) Bas an arer zo gant hook; (_For he has the wand of the plough_;) Lez on, Lez y, (_Let her go, let her go_,) Bas an arer zo gant y!' (_For she has the wand of the plough_!)

  Then the dancers made way for the farmer and his wife, who reached theold mother safely, and comforted her last hours.

  When they returned to their own homes they told what they had seen andheard. Some of the villagers were still too much afraid of the Korrigansto venture, but others armed themselves with _fourches_, and hastened tothe valley when night had fallen. All of these witnessed the famousdance, but none felt inclined to join it.

  In a neighbouring village two tailors dwelt, and they were as anxious asthe rest to see the Korrigans. The elder was a tall and handsome fellownamed Jean, but in spite of his inches he had no pluck, and was idle aswell as vain. The other was Peric, a red-haired hunchback, so kind andlovable in spite of his looks that if ever a neighbour were in trouble,it was to Peric he went first. Though the hunchback and Jean shared thesame business, the latter was always gibing at Peric, and left him to domost of the work.

  'Since you're so courageous,' he sneered, one fine warm night whenhe and Peric had stayed behind in the valley to watch the Korrigans,'suppose you ask them to let you join their dance. Your hump should makeyou safe with them, for they are not likely to fall in love with you.'

  'All right,' said Peric cheerfully, though at this unkind reference tohis deformity his face had flushed. And taking off his cap he approachedthe whirling Elves.

  'May I dance with you?' he asked politely, dropping his _fourche_ toshow he trusted them.

  'You're more brave than good looking,' they replied, their feet stillmoving to the same quick measure. 'Are you not afraid that we shall workyou ill?'

  'Not a bit!' answered Peric, joining hands with them; and he started tosing as lustily as they:--

  '_Dilun, Dimeurs, Dimerc'her_,'

  which means 'Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday.' After a while he grew tired ofsinging these three words so often, and went on of his own accord:--

  '_Ha Diriaou, ha Digwener_,' (And Thursday and Friday!)

  '_Mat! Mat!_' (Good! Good!) cried the Korrigans in chorus, and though hecould not tell why they were so delighted, he was glad to have giventhem pleasure. When they offered him the choice of wealth or power inreturn for some mysterious service which he seemed to have renderedthem, he only laughed, for he thought that they were poking fun at him.

  'Take away my hump, then,' he cried at last, 'and make me as handsome asmy friend Jean. A little maid whom I love dearly will not look at mewhen he is near, though she likes well enough to talk to me by thefountain if he is out of the way.'

  They tossed him three times in the air.]

  'Is that all?' exclaimed the Korrigans. 'That will not give us theslightest trouble!' and catching him in their veils, they tossed himthree times in the air. The third time he alighted on his feet. He wasnow as tall and straight as he could wish to be, with fine soft hair asblack as the raven's wing.

  Instead of rejoicing at his friend's good fortune, Jean was full ofenvy. Forgetting his fears in his greed for gain, he pushed himself intothe midst of the Korrigans, who had once more begun to dance, and joinedthem in their singing. His voice was less melodious than Peric's, and hedid not keep time so well, but they suffered him amongst them out ofcuriosity.

  Presently he, like Peric, grew tired of the monotonous chant, andshouted:

  '_Ha Disadarn, ha Disul_' (And Saturday and Sunday)

  'What else? what else?' cried the Korrigans in great excitement, buthe only looked as stupid as an owl, and repeated these words over andover. Catching him in their veils, they tossed him up as they had donePeric, and when he came down again he found he had red hair and a hump.They were angry you see, that he had come so near to breaking the spelland had then disappointed them, for if he had only had the sense to add:

  '_Ha cetu chu er sizun_,' (And now the week is ended)

  he would have broken the spell and set them free, since Peric hadalready sung 'And Saturday and Sunday.'"