3 1822 00204 5979 3 1822 "66264 "5979 f Peter and The Fairies THE UN.'VhRSITY LIBRARY JNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, SAN DIEGO LA JOLLA, CALIFORNIA PETER and THE FAIRIES BY ARTHUR HENRY CHICAGO BROTHERS OF THE BOOK 1913 COPYRIGHT 1905 BY A. S. BARNES & COMPANY COPYRIGHT 1913 BY THE BROTHERS OF THE BOOK l little people* are still with us Peter and The Fairies ANCY'S copying of fice was on the thir teenth floor ofone of the great office build ings on lower Broad way. There were two rooms, with windows looking over a wide stretch of the world below. As I entered Nancy was busy with a customer. As she stood before him, looking up talking, she sometimes raised upon her tiptoes, and then her head came almost to his chin. She was a very small body, but, for all that, the place seemed filled with her. She gave me a quick glance, her blue eyes sparkling with enterprise, smiled as if she had known me always, and asked Peter and "The Fairies me to be seated. "Just a moment, please." The first impression of these rooms was of their cheery atmosphere, and this impression has remained. There were four very contented-looking girls in the inner office. I never heard a brisker or more continuous sound of operation, but I noticed that from time to time these girls at their typewriters cast pleasant glances through a row of windows. They could see a narrow strip of the city, more than a mile of the broad North River, and the cities and the hills of New Jersey. They could note the ocean steamers as they left and entered their slips, the barges, sailing vessels, tugs and yachts, and the ferryboats criss-crossing like mag netic toys. [ 8] Peter and 'The Fairies " Come," the man was saying, "I must have it in the morning." "Well," answered Nancy, "we can do it for you in time, but it will mean late hours." "All right. Now, what will it cost?" "The regular rate is fifteen cents a page for the typewriting, and ten dollars a thousand for the mimeo graphing. That will be sixteen." She looked sweetly up at him, and added, in a soft, persuasive voice, "Ten dol lars extra for the late hours. That will make it twenty-six in all." "Whew!" he exclaimed, "That's pretty steep, isn't it?" "Oh, but," she said, still holding his eyes with her own, "just think how badly you need it. It would be a pleasure to work for you all night for [9] Peter and The Fairies nothing, but we won't insist upon it. You would rather pay us, I know." He looked into her smiling face, so pleasant, shrewd and girlish, and laughed gleefully. "Well, I should say I would!" he exclaimed, and left the order. "Andnow?" she asked, comingover to me. " I would like to dictate something." "Letters?" "No; a fairy tale." She laughed merrily. "Do you know our prices?" "No." "A dollar an hour." "It won't take long," I said, "for it is written. I will dictate from the manuscript and you may take it on your machine." [ 10 ] Peter and The Fairies "Well, now, if you don't mind in terruptions I will take it myself. Of course," she added, smiling, "I won't charge you for the interruptions." She brought a table and typewriter, and sat briskly down beside me. She adjusted the paper, looked at me, smiled andwaited,her capablelittle hands hov ering over the keys. We were in the reception room, and I, seated before her desk, could see over the lower buildings the spires of St. Patrick's Cathedral, faint and blue, and fainter yet, Grant's Tomb. The sun shone over the spreading mass of clean buildings, flashed from exposed window panes, and tinted the clouds of white steam rising from the roofs. Viewed from this window, the city was altogether a fair and shining [ n ] Peter and The Fairies thing. Only a far-off, pleasant mur mur rose from below. The personal ity of individuals was lost, and only that of the city remained a person ality prosperous, hopeful, luxurious, ambitious, vast in its serene, progres sive contentment and egotism. I began the story. " When Old Peter the Rich gave up his business and his mansion in the village and went to live in the forest with his daughter Susette, he turned over all his posses sions to his brother Abner, on con dition that he should provide for his grandson, little Peter Forester, when the time came. It was with a last thought for this little likeness of all that was good in his own youth, and a prayer for his blessing, that Old Peter died. His death brought a great [ 12 ] Peter and The Fairies change to little Peter. He had known no other playfellow except the fairies, and it had been only through his grandfather that he had known them. After his death he suddenly realized that he had never really seen the little people, unless, indeed, it had been in his babyhood. He half-remembered their figures perched upon his cradle, and could sometimes hear a faint echo of their merry voices. As soon as Peter was big enough his father would some times take him for a day's patrol of the forest. These were times of mingled pleasure and disappointment. When they started in the early morning the boy's heart was full of excitement. The squirrels cocked knowing eyes at him; a sparrow, evidently on the watch, darted eagerly ahead. Woodpeckers [ 13 ] Peter and The Fairies sent flying signals through the forest and thrushes, finches and bluebirds flit ted about him as if impatient at his slow approach. "'Come, father,' he would cry in his delight, 'let us hurry, for the fairies will appear to-day/ " Before the day was over he lagged behind, troubled because he could see and hear so little, and then his father, taking his hand, would say, 'You are tired, little man/ "In the evening he sat silently on the doorsill, looking wistfully into the forest, listening for those little familiar ones whom he was not sure he had ever seen." Nancy was called away by a cus tomer, who had closed the door be hind him briskly. He had brought Peter and The Fairies an order for one hundred mimeograph letters, but she, from her tiptoes, told him that while one hundred might be enough for him, it would be more profitable for her if he should order five hundred or a thousand. He ven tured to discuss the matter, and she got the extra order. She returned to me, smiling sweetly in apology. "When Peter was fifteen years old his uncle Abner took him to the vil lage to live. He did not do this with any pleasure, but if Peter were to have a share in the fortune he must help to increase it. As Peter went with him, all the way from the cot tage to the town his heart, looking both ways at once, viewed his home with tender regret and the town with eager anticipations. His room in the Peter and The Fairies great house looked into the garden of a neighbor, and he saw, in place of the forest, a prim little lawn, a few orderly flower-beds and a contented- looking cottage covered with vines. He sighed as he stood by the win dow on the first night. The few trees in the garden seemed to speak an other language than those of the for est. There was something fretful in the piping of a few lonely crickets. Here in the midst of the town, when for the first time he was to dwell with hundreds of his kind, this little crea ture of the companionable woods felt utterly alone. He awakened early the next morning, and thought at first it was because of the birds that usually aroused him. By a window opposite his own stood a little girl, singing gaily [ 16] A* Peter and The Fairies & as she fastened a pink bow in her hair." We were again interrupted by a cus tomer with an order to be filled at once. "We cannot possibly do it until to morrow," said Nancy, taking his manu script from him, however, and folding it to her breast. "Oh, but you must." "You wanted this yesterday?" she asked. "Yes," he assented eagerly, think ing he had made his point. "I should have attended to it yesterday." "Surely," she said, "you can't ex pect me to do more than you have done." It was her soft voice, the pleasant accent on the "me," and "you," the Peter and The Fairies irresistible allurement of her ingen uous eyes that convinced him, and he agreed to wait. She returned to me with what I thought was a genuine eagerness, and I continued the tale. "Peter went down to his uncle with a light heart, which even the un friendly silence of the breakfast table could not reach. 'Peter,' said his un cle sharply as they were leaving the house, 'I hope you intend to be use ful at once.' He slammed the great iron gate behind them and looked sternly down. *I can't have any id lers about me. What do you know?' Peter would have been distressed by this had he heard it, but he was at that moment looking toward the win dow opposite his own. 'Why don't [ 18 1 Peter and The Fairies you listen to me?' asked the old man, giving a twist to his arm. 'You hurt me,' said Peter. His uncle relaxed his grip and walked on in silence. Pres ently he said, in what he intended for a kindly manner: 'I have no doubt that you will soon be useful. The great thing in life is to be able to cajole or force others to do of their own free will the things that are profitable for you. "'I now possess land and dwellings once held dearer than life by their owners, but mark you, Peter, these good people were glad to give them over, and escape with their hides be fore I was through with them. Some of them I have been able to em ploy to my profit, thereby securing not only their property, but their ser- [ 19 1 Peter and The Fairies vices and gratitude as well. To some I have leased their former possessions, for they were willing to pay more than others; so you see that even the ten- derest sentiments have their uses. In dealing with men, one must not ignore their virtues.' "As they reached the center of the square he pointed to the town pump, about which wasgatheredamerry group with buckets. " ' I will giveyouat once,' said Abner, looking from the pump to Peter and from Peter to the pump, 'an oppor tunity to be useful. The town pump is a great public evil. It encourages people in idleness and gossiping, and teaches them the bad habit of getting something for nothing. It needs only a little wit to induce them to tear it 20 Peter and The Fairies down and close up the well. If they dig wells of their own they must come to us for their tools, and it may be that a larger quantity of our wines will be used. So you see already you have something to think of at spare times.' "As Peter listened with his mouth open, the laughter and chatter of the people as they filled each other's buck ets lost its merriment. "It was a tragic day for Peter, but that night as he stood again by his window, the moonlight falling over the neighboring cottage finally illum inated his own heart as if with a re flected and softened radiance. In the morning he was awakened by the song of the girl. He hurried to his win dow, and saw to his delight that she [ 21 ] Peter and The Fairies was looking in his direction, as if expecting him. She smiled when he appeared, and then, as if her mission were performed, flitted away like the birds of his forest when they had called to him." Again the door opened. This time Nancy looked up with vacant eyes, and in a voice that sounded far away asked one of her girls to attend to customers when they came in. She drew a screen about us. She lifted the carriage of her machine and read, "Like the birds of his forest when they had called to him." "Go on," she said. The lines sounded beautiful as she read them. Perhaps it was her voice and eyes. And then, in our little enclosure, the rest of the story seemed real to us. [ 22 ] Peter and The Fairies "Peter greeted his uncle cheer fully at breakfast, because he was not thinking of him, and Abner was also agreeable, because he already saw in his nephew a promising youth. "That day Peter was put upon a high stool and a pile of great books placed before him. "'You must first learn everything in these by heart,' said his uncle, 'for many difficult things can easily be managed if a man knows how others have succeeded or failed, if he can construe the laws for himself and fig ure nimbly.' "Peter's instructor was a little, with ered old man named Jacob. He was one of those who had seen his house and garden mysteriously pass into the hands of Abner Rich, and who now [ 23 ] A* Peter and The Fairies