The Wonder Clock

by Howard Pyle

  One day the wicked Step-mother was walking in the fields, and the two crows sat on the thorn-tree.

  "Look," says the first crow, "yonder goes the beauty."

  "Yes," says the second, "but she is only as a cabbage to a rose when compared to the lass who followed the golden ball down into the pit, and who has married the handsome young king over at the castle yonder."

  Then, "Caw! caw!" they cried, and flapped their wings and flew away.

  As for the Step-mother, her heart was ready to burst with anger and with spite. Home she went and began to think of what she should do to put her step-daughter out of the way again.

  She took some dough and some feathers, and of them she made an old hen and six chicks. She put them in the oven and baked them, and when she drew them out again they were all of pure gold. But the strangest of all was, that when she set them upon the table the little golden hen strutted and clucked, and the chicks cried, "Peep! peep!" and followed at her heels.

  Then the woman clad herself in a strange dress, so that no one might know who she was. She hid a long, keen silver pin in her bosom, and off she set for the castle with the golden hen and the golden chickens in a basket wrapped up in a white napkin.

  She set her basket on the ground under the palace window, and when the folks within saw the little clucking hen and her chicks, all made of pure gold that shone in the sunlight, they could not look enough.

  Off ran one and told the queen, who came and looked and looked, and wondered and wondered, until by and by she longed for the golden hen and the golden chickens as she had never longed for anything in all of her life before. So she called one of her maids, and sent her down to ask the strange woman the price of her golden chickens.

  "Prut!" says the wicked witch of a Step-mother, "who are you that you should come to talk with me? If the young queen would buy my wares she must come and bargain with me herself."

  So down went the young queen to the wicked Step-mother; "And what is the price of your hen and chicks, my good woman," said she, for she did not know the other, because of the strange dress in which she was clad.

  "Oh! it is little or nothing I ask for my hen and chickens," said the wicked Step-mother to the beautiful queen. "If you will give me a kiss down in the garden back of the rose-tree yonder, you may have the chickens and welcome."

  Oh, yes; the queen was willing enough to pay the price, if that was all the woman wanted. So off they went back of the rose-tree, she and the Step-mother. There the witch drew out the silver pin from her bosom, and as she kissed the queen she thrust the pin deep into her head. Then quick as a wink the queen was changed into a white dove and flew away over the tree-tops.

  Off went the Step-mother, and was as pleased with what she had done this time as with what she had done that time; for the two crows sat on the thorn-tree, and the first crow said to the second crow, "Yonder goes the beauty." And the second crow said to the first, "Yes, there is none to compare with her now that the young queen has been changed to a white dove.

  At the king's castle they hunted for the queen high, and they hunted for the queen low, but could find neither thread nor hair of her. As for the white dove, it had flown in at a window, and there the little cook-boy found it, and caught it and sold it to the cook for a penny. So the beautiful white dove sat over the kitchen window, and did nothing but mourn from the dawn to the gloaming.

  One day the folk in the kitchen were talking together. The king was lying sick abed and dying of a broken heart because his beautiful young queen was nowhere to be found. That was what they said, and the white bird heard every word of it.

  The next morning when they came to the kitchen there was a beautiful sweet cake lying upon a white napkin, and on the cake were written these words:

  "Break this, my king, and ease thy sorrow."

  They took the sweet cake to the king where he lay, and he broke it as the words told him to. Within it he found the ring which he had given to the queen, inside of which were written words which no one but he and she knew.

  "Where did this come from?" said he; but nobody could tell him.

  "Where the ring came from," said he, "there will the queen be found." And up he got from his bed and dressed himself, and ate his breakfast with a cheerful face.

  They talked about what had happened down in the kitchen, and the white dove heard it all.

  Next morning there, on a fine linen napkin, lay another cake like the first, and on it was written:

  "Break this, my king, and be comforted."

  They took it up to the king as they had done the first. And the king snatched it like a hungry man. He broke the cake, and there was the necklace and the locket that he had given the queen.

  "Where did this come from?" said he.

  But they could tell him no more about that than about the other.

  All the same, they talked about it down in the kitchen, and the white dove heard what was said.

  But that night the little cook-boy hid in the closet to watch, for he wanted to see who it was that brought the cakes that they took up-stairs to the king. So he watched and watched, and by and by the clock struck twelve. And when the last stroke sounded the dove flew down from over the window, and as soon as it lit upon the floor it was the white dove no longer, but the queen herself. She made a sweet cake of sugar and of flour, and in it she put a feather as white as silver. Then she became the white dove again, and flew back over the window where she had sat before.

  The next morning they found the third cake lying upon a white napkin, and on the cake was written:

  "Break this, my king, for the time has come."

  They took it up to the king and he broke it, and there was the white feather.

  Then the king called everybody that was in the castle, and asked each one in turn if he or she could tell where the sweet cake had come from. But no; nobody knew, until last of all they questioned the kitchen-boy.

  "Oh, yes," said he, "I know who it was that brought the cake. Last night the white dove in the kitchen flew down from over the window and became the queen herself; she made the sweet cake and laid it upon the white napkin, for I saw her do it with my own eyes."

  Up they brought the white dove from the kitchen, and the king took it in his own hands and held it up to his bosom, and stroked it and caressed it.

  "If thou art my queen," said he, "why dost thou not speak to me?"

  But the dove answered never a word, and the king stroked it and stroked it.

  By and by he felt something, and when he came to look it was the head of the silver pin. He drew it forth, and there stood the young queen again in her own true shape.

  She told everything that had happened to her from the first to the last, and how her Step-mother had treated her. Then, hui! but the king was angry! He sent a great lot of soldiers off to the father's house to bring the Step-mother to the castle so that she might be punished for her wickedness. But she was not to be caught as easily as a sparrow in a rain-storm; she jumped upon a broom straw, and--puff!--away she flew up the chimney, and that was the last that anybody saw of her so far as ever I heard.

  But they brought the father over to the king's castle, where he sat in the warmest corner and had the best that was to be had.

  That is all of this story, and if you see a blind mouse run across the floor throw your cap over it and catch it, for it is yours.

  XIII

  One O'clock.

  One O'clock.

  The Kobold lies,

  And blinks his Eyes,

  Under the Grape-vine leaves.

  The Chickens scratch

  In a sunny Patch,

  And the Sparrows fight on the Eaves.

  The Bee-Hive hums;

  The House-wife comes,

  And looks outside the Door.

  The speckled Chick

  Hops in, to pick

  The Crumbs from off the Floor.

  Master Jacob.

  XIII.

  ONCE upon a time there was
a man whose name was just Master Jacob and nothing more.

  All that Master Jacob had in the world was a good fat pig, two black goats, a wife, and a merry temper--which was more than many a better man than he had, for the matter of that.

  "See, now," says Master Jacob, "I will drive the fat pig to the market to-morrow; who knows but that I might strike a bit of a sale."

  "Do," says Master Jacob's wife, for she was of the good sort, and always nodded when he said "yes," as the saying goes.

  Now there were three rogues in the town over the hill, who lived in plenty; one was the priest, one was the provost, and one was the master mayor; and which was the greatest rogue of the three it would be a hard matter to tell, but perhaps it was the priest.

  "See, now," says the priest to the other two, "Master Jacob, who lives over yonder way, is going to bring his fat pig to market to-morrow. If you have a mind for a trick, we will go snacks in what we win, and each of us will have a rib or two of bacon hanging in the pantry, and a string or so of sausages back in the chimney without paying so much as a brass button for them."

  Well, of course that was a tune to which the others were willing to dance. So the rogue of a priest told them to do thus and so, and to say this and that, and they would cheat Master Jacob out of his good fat pig as easily as a beggar eats buttered parsnips.

  So the next morning off starts Master Jacob to the market, driving his fat pig before him with a bit of string around the leg of it. Down he comes into the town, and the first one whom he meets is the master priest.

  "How do you find yourself, Master Jacob?" says the priest, "and where are you going with that fine, fat dog?"

  "Dog!" says Master Jacob, opening his eyes till they were as big and as round as saucers. "Dog! Prut! It is as fine a pig as ever came into this town, I would have you know."

  "What!" says the priest. "Do you try to tell me that that is a pig, when I can see with both of my ears and all of my eyes that it is a great, fat dog?"

  "I say it is a pig!" says Master Jacob.

  "I say it is a dog!" says the priest.

  "I say it is a pig!" says Master Jacob.

  "I say it is a dog!" says the priest.

  "I say it is a pig!" says Master Jacob.

  Just then who should come along but the provost, with his hands in his pockets and his pipe in his mouth, looking as high and mighty as though he owned all of that town and the sun and the moon into the bargain.

  "Look, friend," says the priest. "We have been saying so and so and so and so, just now. Will you tell me, is that a pig, or is it a dog?"

  "Prut!" says the provost, "how you talk, neighbor! Do you take me for a fool I should like to know? Why, it is as plain as the nose on your face that it is a great, fat dog."

  "I say it is a pig!" bawled Master Jacob.

  "I say it is a dog!" says the provost.

  "I say it is a pig!" says Master Jacob.

  "I say it is a dog!" says the provost.

  "I say it is a pig!" says Master Jacob.

  "Come, come," says the priest, "let us have no high words over the matter. No, no; we will take it to the mayor. If he says that it is a pig we two will give you ten shillings; and if he says it is a dog, you will give the animal to us as a penance."

  Well, Master Jacob was satisfied with that, for he was almost certain that it was a pig. So off they marched to the mayor's house. There the priest told all about the matter, for he was used to talking. "And now," says he, "is it a pig, or is it a dog?"

  "Why," says the mayor, "I wish I may be choked to death with a string of sausages if it is not a dog, and a big dog and a fat dog into the bargain."

  So there was an end of the matter, and Master Jacob had to march off home without his pig and with no more in his pockets than he had before. All the same, he saw what kind of trick had been played on him, and, says he to himself, "What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander. If one can pipe another can whistle; I'll just try a bit of a trick myself." So he went to his wife and told her that he had a mind to do thus and so, and that she must do this and that; for he thought of trying his hand at a little trickery as well as other folks.

  Now, as I told you before, Master Jacob had two goats, both of them as black as the inside of your hat at midnight; moreover, they were as like as two spoons in the same dish; for no one could have told them apart unless he had lived with them year in and year out, rainy weather and clear, as Master Jacob had done.

  Well, the next day Master Jacob tied a rope around the neck of one of the goats, took down a basket from the wall, and started off to the town over the hill, leading his goat behind him. By and by he came to the market place and began buying many and one things, until his basket was as full as it could hold. After a while whom should he see coming along but the priest and the provost and the mayor, walking arm-in-arm as bold as you please.

  "Halloa, Master Jacob," said they, "and what have you there?"

  "The blessed saints only know that," said Master Jacob. "It may be a black cat for all that I know; it was a black goat when I left home this morning."

  And what was Master Jacob going to do with his little black goat? That was what they should like to know.

  "Oh," said Master Jacob, "I am about to send my little black goat on an errand, if you will wait you shall see for yourselves."

  Then what did he do but hang the basket around the goat's neck. "Go home to your mistress," said he, "and tell her to boil the beef and cabbage for dinner to-day; and, stop! tell her to go to Neighbor Nicholas's house and borrow a good big jug of beer, for I have a masterful thirst this morning." Then he gave the goat a slap on the back, and off it went as though the ground were hot under it. But whether it ever really went home or not, I never heard.

  As for the priest, the provost, and the mayor, you may guess how they grinned at all of this. Good land sake's alive! And did Master Jacob really mean to say that the little black goat would tell the mistress all that?

  Oh, yes; that it would. It was a keen blade, that little black goat, and if they would only come home with him, Master Jacob would show them.

  So off they all went, Master Jacob and the priest and the provost and the mayor, and after a while they came to Master Jacob's house. Yes, sure enough, there was a black goat feeding in the front yard, and how should the priest and the provost and the mayor know that it was not the same one that they had seen at the market-place! And just then out came Master Jacob's wife. "Come in, Jacob," says she, "the cabbage and the meat are all ready. As for the beer, Neighbor Nicholas had none to spare, so I just borrowed a jugful of Neighbor Frederick, and it is as good as the other for certain and sure."

  Dear, dear! how the three cronies did open their eyes when they heard all of this! They would like to have such a goat as that, indeed they would. Now, if Master Jacob had a mind to sell his goat, they would give as much as twenty dollars for it.

  Oh, no; Master Jacob could not think of selling his nice little, dear little black goat for twenty dollars.

  For thirty, then.

  No; Master Jacob would not sell his goat for thirty dollars, either.

  Well, they would give as much as forty.

  No; forty dollars was not enough for such a goat as that.

  So they bargained and bargained till the upshot of the matter was that they paid Master Jacob fifty dollars, and marched off with the goat as pleased as pleased could be.

  Well, the three rogues were not long in finding out what a trick had been played upon them, I can tell you. So, in a day or two, whom should Master Jacob see coming down the road but the priest, the provost, and the master mayor, and anybody could see with half an eye that they were in an awful fume.

  "Hi!" says Master Jacob, "there will be hot water boiling presently." In he went to his good wife. "Here," says he, "take this bladder of blood that we were going to make into pudding, and hide it under your apron, and then when I do this and that, you do thus and so."

  Presently in came the pries
t, the provost, and the mayor, bubbling and sizzling like water on slake lime. "What kind of a goat was that that you sold us?" bawled they, as soon as they could catch their breaths.

  "My black goat," says Master Jacob.

  Then look! He would run on no errands, and would do nothing that it was told. It was of no more use about the house than five wheels to a wagon. Now Master Jacob might just go and put his hat on and come along with them, for they were about to take him away to prison.

  "But stop a bit," says Master Jacob. "Did you say `by the great horn spoon,' when you told the goat to do this or that?"

  No; the cronies had done nothing of the kind, for Master Jacob had said nothing about a great horn spoon when he sold them the goat.

  "Why didn't you remind me?" says Master Jacob to his good wife.

  "I didn't think of it," says she.

  "You didn't?" says he.

  "No," says she.

  "Then take that!" says he, and he out with a great sharp knife and jabbed it into the bladder under her apron, so that the blood ran out like everything.

  "Ugh!" says the good wife, and then fell down and lay quite still, just for all the world as though she were dead.

  When the three cronies saw this, they gaped like fish out of water. Just look now! Master Jacob had gone and killed his good wife, and all for nothing at all. Dear, dear! what a hasty temper the man had. Now he had gotten himself into a pretty scrape, and would have to go before the judge and settle the business with him.

  "Tut! tut!" says Master Jacob, "the broth is not all in the ashes yet. Perhaps I am a bit hasty, but we will soon mend this stocking."

  So he went to the closet in the corner of the room, and brought out a little tin horn. He blew a turn or two over his wife, whereat she sneezed, and then sat up as good and as sound as ever.

  As for the priest and the provost and the mayor, they thought that they had never seen anything so wonderful in all of their lives before. They must and would have that tin horn if it was to be had; now, how much would Master Jacob take for it, money down?