Collected Tales (Jerry eBooks)

by Leslie F Stone

  “ ‘In the first place you will perhaps be much surprised to know that this country—or rather this world of ours is much the same as your own, that we have the same continents, the same oceans and rivers, et cetera, for in truth this is the same as the world you know, except in its aspect. It occupies exactly the same place as does your world, lies on top of it in fact, and only the Veil separates it. Look about you and see if you recognize anything familiar in the landscape?’

  “Half understanding what she had been saying, I looked about. I could have sworn I was looking at the same country through which I had come. The topography was the same. Standing up I could see the same hillock I had come over, and the indentation where had lain the path by which I had come. To my left lay the low sweep of what had been bog land. Only now I could see nothing of the road and what had been bog was a pretty grass land, and the country about was different. Before it had been a wild ragged stretch, rough and unkempt. Now it was glade-like and appeared to have been turned into a parkland. Also there was a profusion of flowers that had been noticeable because of their absence this morning. I turned now to my interlocutor for an explanation.

  “ ‘It is the same country, you see, but you see it from the “other side” of the Veil. We cannot understand it ourselves or explain it scientifically as to where this difference lies, or what the Veil is composed of, nor anything about it. Perhaps you will be able to explain that for us, for you have great learning.

  “ ‘Nevertheless, whatever the explanation is, the fact remains that our country does occupy the same space as does yours. You build your cities, your houses and your factories, farm your land, turn your swamps into dry land and cut down your mountains, but nothing you do causes change in our world. We can sit exactly in the spot where you erect a palace and yet to us it is nothing but an open glade!

  “ ‘In the Veil are about a half a dozen openings, however, such as the one you have come “through” and by its means we are often able to go into your country just as you come into ours. Then there are places where the Veil is thin but not worn through. Through them we can see what goes on in your world or hear what you are about. It is because we do come “through” that your folk have learned about us and have seen us so that your literature is filled with tales about us, and you have pictures of us. However most of your stories about us are untrue, just as sometimes your artists caricature us. But of late years we have not gone “through” very often, for we quickly tire of your manner of living. You seem so futile with your wars, your everlasting digging and hoeing, your terrible noises and machinery and your entertainments. One must live with Nature to enjoy life, to eat the fruits that her bounty gives us, to live in the sun, to listen to the songs of the wind and to watch nature’s drama. Why do you clutter up your world with ugly buildings and belch smoke into the God-given air, rush madly from one part of your world to the other without rest; kill the poor animals just for the pleasure of it and—oh, I could go on forever about your manners, but what’s the use? You could not change it if you wanted to, for you are born of them and would not be happy differently, I suppose.’

  “I stood there listening to the tirade of the little being, enthralled by her voice and her words, and wondering if she wasn’t right. She scarcely paused for breath but went on speaking.

  “ ‘Perhaps all that is because you evolved from your ape-thing, a creature whom many ages ago we saw grubbing as you grub, planting, hoeing and reaping as you plant, hoe and reap, though you have improved on his methods. You kill animals for meat as he killed them, only you no longer need to stalk them in the jungles, but raise them on the plains and murder them scientifically! You build boats as he built boats to venture out upon the waters, for you have inherited your inquiring mind from him and you are not satisfied yet. And you have merely become more “civilized.” You even climb into the skies now, and you do many tremendous things. But what does it bring you at all, but the desire to do more? You can’t eat more than your first man did—but you can eat it better. You can’t wear any more clothing than he did—oh, pardon me—you do, of course, but you are more uncomfortable for it—though your women are getting a little sensible in these days. You can’t think of but one thing at a time—you can’t do more than one thing at a time—yet you fill your brain and your world with strange thoughts and then try to prove them! I wish I. could understand where you expect to get with it all!’

  “I WANTED to say things in answer, but she gave me no chance, as though she knew all that came into my mind even as she herself spoke.

  “ ‘Now on the other hand,’ she went on, ‘we of our world evolved, not from ape-things, but from the little flying creatures. My forebears were butterflies! The elves are come from the bees, while the gnomes, little industrious people, are of the ant-folk! There are still butterflies, bees and ants in our world just as there are apes and monkeys in your world, but somehow our ancestors managed to change that for us, though they did not change our love for flowers, for the sun, for everything that is clean and wholesome!’

  “She paused at last and smiled. ‘I see now that your mind is working over the problem of all this. You are beginning to see the light of something we have never been able to discover. Come, we shall go to headquarters and you can tell them of your opinions, if yon will be so kind, although that will scarcely be necessary, since we are able to see all that goes on in your—three dimensional brain—ah that’s the word for it isn’t it?’

  “I was astounded that she had read my thoughts so clearly, for I had been thinking that in truth I was in the Fourth Dimension! Scientists have for many years been trying to discover something of what they are wont to term dimensional science, although there are many other names for it, too. They claim that Nature did not come to a halt when she created the first three dimensions of length, height and breadth, but has gone on into the fourth, fifth, sixth and so on endlessly. Many would have it that the fourth dimension is one thing, and some another, that it is Time, that it is Space or Place. And here it had been for all time waiting to be discovered. The Irish had discovered it, to be sure, but they did not understand what it is all about, so that doesn’t count. The fact remains that the fourth dimension is simply that of place, or the fact that two things occupy the same space at the same time! And here was a world that was occupying the same place as our own world, separated simply by what its people called the Veil.

  “Now I was following my guide over the smooth grass of what appeared to be a great garden with the flowers allowed to grow wherever a seed had taken root.

  I was very careful to pick my way over these flowers, for what I had already learned taught me that the little people did not appreciate having their flowers crushed. The three little fairies were flying ahead of me gayly, just about the height of my eyes. The two elves came up behind and the gnome did not come along at all, but stayed sitting upon his root, and I had to admit that he did not much resemble his ancestor, the ant.

  “After flying ahead of me for a minute or so, my pretty fairy changed her mind and came and perched herself upon my shoulder. I was left to understand that her companions would lead the way.

  “ ‘Once,’ the fairy went on in that funny little way she had of running on as if she could never completely close her lips, ‘one of the folk of the outside unwittingly stepped “through” the hole. He had a gun, and I think you’d call him a poacher. lie did not appear to realize that he was in a different world than his own, and in a half a dozen minutes he had killed half a dozen rabbits, for our rabbits are not used to being killed and they do not run. And he walked on the flowers without a thought of them.

  “ ‘You may be sure we were angered, for usually when they come “through” they have fear in their hearts for us, and we like to keep them that way. Well, grabbing up stones we chased him back to the hole, and believe me he was frightened when he recognized us for what we were. As he went “through” he stumbled and fell on his head, so that he went to sleep for a while. So we rushed up
on him and emptied his sack of the rabbits and found that three were not quite dead. These we nursed back to health. The others we had to bury. Then we thought of a way to frighten him forever so that he would not come hack or tell his people of what he had found. Well, we did all we could to disfigure him so he would always remember, and then we put a hornet’s nest upon his head, so that when he awakened again he was a sight to behold. And how they hurt him! After that he never returned and he noised the story about so that less people than ever came seeking the Fairy Ring.

  “ ‘Oh, which reminds me. You see, that ring is not worn by the dancing of our feet, if you must know the truth, but merely a “burn” from the edge of the “hole.” You must have noticed the beautiful light’ at the opening as you came “through?” ’

  “I NODDED and looking about saw that now the air was as clear as any summer day.

  “ ‘That strange color,’ went on my informant, ‘is caused by the “tear” of the Veil and always marks any such “hole” or place where the Veil has become thin. And the edge of it burns the grass beneath. Perhaps you can explain that, too?’

  “But I was not able to explain that until this week.

  “Now we were nearing the first edifice I had seen in this Fairyland. It seemed to have been built of white stone, alabaster, no doubt. It rose about six feet and was about thirty in length, and was a beautiful thing of carving and jewels. Lovely flowers of stately mien clustered all about the foot of the walls. A pathway of stones set in the sod led to the graceful arched doorway which was about three feet in height.

  “ ‘We are not in the habit of building houses,’ said the Fairy, ‘but occasionally we do it to impress the Lesser Things, the gnomes and brownies and elves and such, for they need impressing upon. We usually live in the open entirely, just as nature intended us to. Only when a visiting dignitary comes do we use these buildings. You are fortunate that you need go no farther in search of Headquarters. Oh, yes, we fly to the tropics as the birds do in the cold seasons.’ The last was in answer to the query that had come into my mind.

  “ ‘What sort of dignitaries do you have? Queens and the like!’

  “ ‘Oh, yes, Queens and Princesses. However, our rulers act merely as arbitrators in questions that arise among us. At present a gnome is being tried for having murdered a rat! It was a matter of jealousy, I believe.’

  “ ‘Is such a murder considered a bad crime?’

  “ ‘Why not? Why should anyone take a life that doesn’t belong to him? It was not until your countrymen taught us the meaning of murder, that anything like this ever happened. But that is the way of you—to have commandments forbidding the doing of this and that, and it makes your people misbehave. It puts the thought into the mind!’

  “ ‘How is it that you know so much about our world and our history? One would think what you have lived there always yourself.’ I demanded.

  “ ‘It is that you interest us, even as you are interested in us now. And then we have come into your world very often. But, the reason I know so much about your world is—because as I talk to you, I see it all pass through your brain, you see! Perhaps it is because I am a Fourth Dimensional creature that I can see into your Third Dimensional brain, since I can occupy the same place as you do without your being the wiser!’

  “I was struck by her clear reasoning, and I was to find all the people of Fairyland with such clear thinking brains. Nothing seemed impossible for them to comprehend. It was only a pity that I was not able to see into their brain-cases as they saw into mine, for I might have learned a great deal.

  “For a month I stayed with them, living as they did out in the sun, eating fruits and sucking honey from flowers, only it was difficult for me to do the latter without killing the flower itself. They were sorry to see me go, and before I left they told me that in my own city back home I would find one of the ‘holes’ through the Veil by which I could enter their world whenever I pleased. It luckily was in a garden, they said. I believe they even knew it was here in this garden, but they are mischievous people and wanted me to go in search of it myself!

  “I have been ‘through’ here in the garden and these fairies across the sea were as nice as those in Ireland, though as I have said before, I haven’t seen one that is half as pretty as Neila, my little guide. I’ve had a few of them here in the house and grounds, but they are very shy and will not allow themselves to be seen by a stranger. However, they will always come about when I wish to photograph them, for they like to have their pictures taken!”

  So Keller ended his story and poured some brandy for himself.

  Warren did not speak immediately, but his eyes were troubled.

  “You do not believe me, Jack?” queried Keller.

  “It sounds like a very good Fairy Story, Charlie. The best I have ever heard.”

  “But, Jack, you have seen the fairies yourself? Come we will develop the picture that you yourself snapped!”

  “How is it that you take those pictures? You did not tell me that.”

  “It has taken me all these years to do that. During my visit ‘through the Veil’ I began to realize that that Veil was nothing more than a certain ‘ray’ from the sun, which formed the barrier, that the molecules of bur atmosphere took up and created, hiding what lay over that boundary from our three dimensional eyes. I began to study the various known rays, the X-ray, the Violet-Ray, the Infra Red-Rays and down through the line. And only last week I discovered the Z or Mauve-Ray that forms that curtain. My camera simply enables me to photograph what lies beyond. I think that in time I shall be able to take a photograph directly through the Veil without the need of seeking the ‘Hole’.”

  Warren had nothing very much to say and in an hour or so he was back at his hotel. In his possession he had the “photo” he had snapped himself, but he never showed it to anyone. In later years he was to show it to his wife and a few select friends, and tell something about what Keller had told him. They would listen politely and say that they had heard of Charles Keller, who had tried to follow in the footsteps of Sir Conan Doyle, and remark that his strange disappearance was one of the mysteries of New York. Warren secretly believed that Keller was still alive—not in the world of Three Dimensions, but in that strange Fairyland they had both peered into. The old Keller house is no more, and the garden is covered over by a skyscraper, but Warren believes that the “Hole” exists there still.

  THE END

  [*] There is a charming novel with this title by Don Byrne. Blind Rafferty is understood to have been a real personage, an Irish fiddler.

  Women with Wings

  TO those who read Miss Stone’s “Men With Wings” in the July, 1929, issue of this magazine, we can offer another treat in the present sequel.

  There are few of us who do not envy the birds in their power to soar above the earth and feel the freedom from the shackles that have held us perennially to the earth’s surface. Miss Stone, as usual, shows her ability to write in a very human and interesting fashion, and constantly intrigues our interest by newer and more strange developments. In this story of terrestrial and interplanetary adventures we meet some of the problems that confront the winged people; and we see how Miss Stone works out in an amazingly surprising fashion the ultimate solution.

  We offer this story as a worthy sequel to the marvelous “Men With Wings.”

  “GENTLEMEN,” began the Mentor, as he faced the nine terrestrial leaders, “I realize that you are very curious to know why I have called you together without acquainting you with what I wish to discuss. Yet I am certain that each of you has already guessed the purpose of this conference!”

  There were murmurs of assent from the nine men seated around the table.

  “For a long time,” went on the Mentor, “our medical men have been seeking to fight the menace that is threatening to depopulate our world of its women. Ever since the inception of the Winged Race, in fact, Science has been trying to save the women who so valiantly carry on the tremendous task of br
inging young into the world. For, as you know, at least five in every ten die in giving birth to our winged children.

  “Thus man has been able to improve upon Nature in one way, only to fall down in another, for she has struck down our mothers with a terrible unknown malady that attacks them in childbirth. You know of our continued efforts to discover what this strange disease is and to find some cure. Gentlemen, our earth is being depopulated of its women! President Adul! How many adult women are recorded living in your protectorate?” The Mentor was addressing the representative from Africa, a Negro.

  “At the present time, Mentor, they number no more than one hundred thousand against five million adult males. Of females who have not yet reached their maturity there are but two million against the forty-odd million young males!”

  “I see . . . and gentlemen, that is among a race of people who have heretofore proven themselves extremely hardy, with only three deaths but of ten women who go through childbirth!”

  THE Mentor was silent for several moments as he considered these facts. He turned to the Eastern European, a member of the Old World Germanic strains. “President Muller, how many adult women do you report living?”

  “In all our territory, sir, there are but fifty thousand, against two million adult males. Of unwed females we have but six million!”

  “And of young males?”

  “We have forty-seven million.”

  “Your death rate among the women is appalling. Your male population also has decreased.”

  Muller nodded and his eyes were grave. “Last year eight of every ten women died, although our physicians fought diligently to save them. And many of the babies also died, thousands. . . .”