IN WHICH WINFRED IS GIVEN THE MOST WONDERFUL
WISH IN THE WORLD, AND I ADVISE YOU
ALL TO READ IT AND LEARN WHAT IT IS, SO
THAT IF, SOME DAY WHEN YOU ARE LEAST EXPECTING
IT, A FAIRY COMES AND OFFERS YOU
A WISH, YOU WILL KNOW FOR WHAT TO ASK
THE following day came a surprise for the children. While they were at their lessons Mother Dear constantly looked at her watch and then gazed out of the window. Martha Mary was sure something was going to happen, but she could not for a moment imagine what it was to be. Finally Mother Dear could keep the secret no longer.
“Babes,” she said, “you may all put away your books, and then I have something to tell you.”
“Is it nice?” asked Edward Lee.
“Yes—and no,” said Mother. “I want you to be happy about it and be nice to Flip. You see——”
Martha Mary’s lips began to tremble. She came to Mother and hid her face in her lap so that the boys could not see her eyes. Mother Dear smoothed the long curls that fell over Martha Mary’s shoulders and patted her cheeks, just as you would a baby’s. The boys did not know what to think.
Finally Martha Mary looked up and smiled the most unhappy little smile imaginable, because it was hard to make-believe.
“I know,” she said. “I just knew it had to happen.”
“What, Dear?” asked Mother.
“He is going away; I am sure he is.”
Mother Dear’s eyes were all watery. “Yes,” she said, “but you must not be selfish. Flip is going to be very, very happy.”
“I suppose it is the Jane-person,” grunted John.
Mother Dear frowned a little and then smiled a perfectly good smile.
“It is the Jane-person,” she said, “and I am happy as happy can be. You see, Flip has received a great deal of money for his book and so the publisher wants him to come to New York to discuss the work he is to do from now on. And so Flip is going—going in a few weeks, but first he is going to the City and he and Jane are to be married, and John and Martha Mary are going with Father and myself to the wedding. So, you see, it is to be nice, after all.”
“And,” said Liza, “isn’t my Flip ever, ever going to come back no more?”
“Certainly, Butterfly! In much less than a year he will return.”
“And live here?”
Mother smiled. “I’m afraid not. But he is to have a lovely cottage just a short distance down the road and—— Ssh! Flip is coming. I want you to be very nice to him and not say anything about what I have told you.”
Flip came in with a perfectly happy smile. Immediately he saw that something was wrong. The children were always more noisy when he came. But he looked at Mother Dear and she nodded, so he pretended to notice nothing.
“Well, I’m here,” he said. “Supposing we find out now what happened to Winfred.”
“Yes!” the children shouted, forgetting for the moment that it might be the last story he would tell them in a long time. (Personally, I know that it wasn’t.)
“Well,” said Flip (he always said “Well” when he started to speak), “I’ll tell you, and please, Martha Mary, will you sit on my knee just this once while I tell it?”
Martha Mary came and climbed to his knee just like a baby and hid her face in his big coat, because she was afraid of crying. Then Flip coughed to clear his throat and told the second chapter of Winfred’s story:
“Now, let me see! Winfred was standing in the middle of the field, alone, and he was no larger than a string bean. Every time a small breeze came along it picked him up, just like a leaf, and carried him to another part of the field. That was rather good fun at first, but after a while it was unpleasant to have to fly whether you would or not. So Winfred crept under a wild rosebush and hid in the leaves, where he could think without being disturbed. But thinking did not do any good, for that would not make him large again. He sat with his tiny face in his hands and frowned. Then the sky grew dark and it was night. Lady Rumdidoodledum and thousands of star children came into the sky and the moon appeared like the largest gold plate you have ever seen. Soon voices were heard in the field—voices of people calling and shouting, ‘Prince Winfred!’ They were the guards seeking the lost boy. They tramped here and there and everywhere and could not hear when Winfred answered them, for his voice was as small as his body. Once a guard came along, swinging a blue lantern, and he almost stepped on Winfred. Finally they said he could not be in that field, so they went ahead, the men shouting and blowing trumpets, and the women calling and moaning. Last of all came the Queen Mother. She did not speak or cry, but walked with her head bowed and tears in her eyes. Winfred held out his arms and called, ‘Mother Dearest!’ but she could not see or hear him. And so she passed out of sight with the others. Then Winfred crept out from the wild rosebush and commenced to climb the hill. It was a hard climb for his short legs and he was very much out of breath when he reached the top. He rested a moment and then looked down. Far below him he saw the ocean, grey and cold, and very great, reaching all the way to the shores of Japan. Along the beach the huge waves splashed like white horses. The winds came skipping across the waters, mussing them in all directions. Winfred gasped, for he had never seen the ocean before. Then, suddenly, he remembered—(and this is true, I assure you) the first time you see or do anything, such as eating the first grape of the season, or seeing the first firefly, or anything like that, if you make a wish it is sure to come true. So Winfred reached out his arms to the sea and whispered:
“‘Oh, ocean blue, oh, ocean grey,
I’ve never seen you before to-day.
Grant to me, oh, grant, I pray,
The wish I wish to you to-day.’
“Out of the wildest of the waves skipped a tiny veil of blue, waving and swaying across the sky like a bit of smoke. Straight to Winfred it came and fluttered to his feet. Then he saw that it was a sprite, a tiny blue one, no larger than himself. The water sprite was dressed like a Queen’s page, all golden and blue, and he carried the smallest imaginable trumpet in his hand. He took off his hat and bowed.
“‘Prince Winfred,’ he said, ‘I have come from the salty sea with a message for you.’
“‘I saw you coming,’ said Winfred. ‘I should think you would lose your breath when you travel through the water.’
“‘One does,’ said the sprite, ‘if one keeps one’s mouth open. But I breathe through my ears. Why don’t you try it?’
“Winfred tried, but he couldn’t.
“‘Please,’ he said, ‘what is your message?’
“‘I am Lovelight, the messenger of King Neptune who rules the ocean,’ said the sprite. ‘King Neptune’ (he said ‘King’ like ‘kink’) ‘heard your wish and he says that he will grant it, because he likes to have people believe in him. What will you wish?’
“‘I wish——’ said Winfred.
“‘Wait!’ said Lovelight. ‘Don’t be silly and wish for something that is not worth while. And, for Goodness’ Sake, don’t wish for a burro!’
“‘How did you know about that?’ asked Winfred.
“‘Why, as soon as Merrylip left you she came straight to the sea to tell all the waves and collect laughs from them. When they heard that a King’s Son had asked for a burro, they laughed so hard that the sailors all thought a storm was coming up.’
“‘I could choke Merrylip,’ said Winfred, although he laughed himself. ‘But,’ said he, ‘I do not know how to make a worth-while wish.’
“Lovelight came close and put his lips to Winfred’s ear.
“‘There is one wish,’ he said, ‘that is more wonderful than anything else in the world. Shall I tell it to you?’
“‘Please do!’
“‘Well, wish that any wish you make at any time, as long as it is sensible, will come true. You see, that is really only one wish.’
“‘And will it come true?’
“So again Winfred looked out to the sea and said:
“‘Oh, ocean blue, oh, ocean grey,
I’ve never seen you before to-day.
Grant to me, oh, grant, I pray,
The wish I wish to you to-day!’
“Then he added: ‘I wish that any wish I make at any time will come true as long as it is sensible.’
“When he stopped, a golden light ran across the waters.
“‘You see,’ said Lovelight, ‘Neptune is smiling. He says he will grant your wish. Try once!’
“‘All right,’ said Winfred. ‘I wish that Merrylip would come back.’
“Almost immediately Merrylip came skipping through the grass, with her golden hair waving in the moonlight. Winfred put his arms about her and kissed her on the nose. ‘Please,’ he said, ‘I wish, Merrylip, that you would not think me hateful any more.’
“‘Smile, Silly!’ said Merrylip. ‘And I won’t.’
“So Winfred smiled and that part of his trouble was ended.
“‘Now,’ said Lovelight, ‘I must return to King Neptune.’
“‘I wish you a pleasant journey back,’ said Winfred.
“‘Thanks,’ said Lovelight, and skipped into the sky.
“‘I wish you would give the King my regards,’ Winfred called after him, and Lovelight had a pleasant journey and gave the King Winfred’s regards as soon as he arrived.
“‘Now,’ said Merrylip, ‘I don’t suppose you will have any more to do with me.’
“‘But I will,’ said Winfred. ‘I don’t suppose you will have any more to do with me.’
“He didn’t really mean it to be a wish, although he wanted it very much, but he forgot that every time he said ‘I wish’ it would come true. So Merrylip stayed and that is why, even when he grew up and was King, Winfred always smiled.
“‘Next on the programme is Home,’ said Winfred. ‘I wish I was my regular size and was sitting on Mother’s lap and she was singing to me, and Merrylip was hiding in my pocket, and things were just as though I had never gone away at all.’
“Almost before he had finished the very long sentence, it came true. Winfred found himself on his Mother’s knee (although he was a pretty big boy to be held that way) and she was pressing her lips on his hair and humming him a Queen Song. In his pocket slept Merrylip and no one knew it excepting Winfred, because she was so tiny that, even when she sneezed, people could not hear her. And so everything came out well, after all, you see.
“Later, Winfred grew to be King, and with his wonderful wish made his people the happiest on earth, for when anything sensible had to be arranged he needed but to wish and it would come true. As a matter of fact, it was fortunate that Merrylip was always there, for often he thought of silly wishes and then Merrylip would pinch his ear and he would not make them. And this is all.”
“Well, it is a relief to know that he got home all right,” said John. John was forming the habit of using long words. It would have been just as easy for him to say “glad” as “relief.”
Then Martha Mary climbed off Flip’s knee, and he held her hands and she leaned forward and whispered in his ear:
“I’m sorry as sorry can be, Flip Dear, that you are going away, but I am happy because you and Jane will be happy.”
Flip smiled and gazed out of the window, and then took Martha Mary into his arms and kissed her, and the boys all shouted, and Martha Mary rushed from the room, all red and happy.
And so Flip told the last but one of his stories before he went to New York, and, as you shall see, the last one I had nothing to do with.