The Violet Fairy Book (24 page)

There he lay on the old woman's sofa and stared about him in
surprise. 'Well, what odd dreams one does have to be sure!' he
said to himself. 'Why, I could have sworn I had been a squirrel,
a companion of guinea pigs and such creatures, and had become a
great cook, too. How mother will laugh when I tell her! But
won't she scold me, though, for sleeping away here in a strange
house, instead of helping her at market!'

He jumped up and prepared to go: all his limbs still seemed
quite stiff with his long sleep, especially his neck, for he
could not move his head easily, and he laughed at his own
stupidity at being still so drowsy that he kept knocking his nose
against the wall or cupboards. The squirrels and guinea pigs ran
whimpering after him, as though they would like to go too, and he
begged them to come when he reached the door, but they all turned
and ran quickly back into the house again.

The part of the town was out of the way, and Jem did not know the
many narrow streets in it and was puzzled by their windings and
by the crowd of people, who seemed excited about some show. From
what he heard, he fancied they were going to see a dwarf, for he
heard them call out: 'Just look at the ugly dwarf!' 'What a long
nose he has, and see how his head is stuck in between his
shoulders, and only look at his ugly brown hands!' If he had not
been in such a hurry to get back to his mother, he would have
gone too, for he loved shows with giants and dwarfs and the like.

He was quite puzzled when he reached the market-place. There
sat his mother, with a good deal of fruit still in her baskets,
so he felt he could not have slept so very long, but it struck
him that she was sad, for she did not call to the passers-by, but
sat with her head resting on her hand, and as he came nearer he
thought she looked paler than usual.

He hesitated what to do, but at last he slipped behind her, laid
a hand on her arm, and said: 'Mammy, what's the matter? Are
you angry with me?'

She turned round quickly and jumped up with a cry of horror.

'What do you want, you hideous dwarf?' she cried; 'get away; I
can't bear such tricks.'

'But, mother dear, what's the matter with you?' repeated Jem,
quite frightened. 'You can't be well. Why do you want to drive
your son away?'

'I have said already, get away,' replied Hannah, quite angrily.
'You won't get anything out of me by your games, you
monstrosity.'

'Oh dear, oh dear! she must be wandering in her mind,' murmured
the lad to himself. 'How can I manage to get her home? Dearest
mother, do look at me close. Can't you see I am your own son
Jem?'

'Well, did you ever hear such impudence?' asked Hannah, turning
to a neighbour. 'Just see that frightful dwarf—would you
believe that he wants me to think he is my son Jem?'

Then all the market women came round and talked all together and
scolded as hard as they could, and said what a shame it was to
make game of Mrs. Hannah, who had never got over the loss of her
beautiful boy, who had been stolen from her seven years ago, and
they threatened to fall upon Jem and scratch him well if he did
not go away at once.

Poor Jem did not know what to make of it all. He was sure he had
gone to market with his mother only that morning, had helped to
set out the stall, had gone to the old woman's house, where he
had some soup and a little nap, and now, when he came back, they
were all talking of seven years. And they called him a horrid
dwarf! Why, what had happened to him? When he found that his
mother would really have nothing to do with him he turned away
with tears in his eyes, and went sadly down the street towards
his father's stall.

'Now I'll see whether he will know me,' thought he. 'I'll stand
by the door and talk to him.'

When he got to the stall he stood in the doorway and looked in.
The cobbler was so busy at work that he did not see him for some
time, but, happening to look up, he caught sight of his visitor,
and letting shoes, thread, and everything fall to the ground, he
cried with horror: 'Good heavens! what is that?'

'Good evening, master,' said the boy, as he stepped in. 'How do
you do?'

'Very ill, little sir, replied the father, to Jem's surprise, for
he did not seem to know him. 'Business does not go well. I am
all alone, and am getting old, and a workman is costly.'

'But haven't you a son who could learn your trade by degrees?'
asked Jem.

'I had one: he was called Jem, and would have been a tall sturdy
lad of twenty by this time, and able to help me well. Why, when
he was only twelve he was quite sharp and quick, and had learnt
many little things, and a good-looking boy too, and pleasant, so
that customers were taken by him. Well, well! so goes the
world!'

'But where is your son?' asked Jem, with a trembling voice.

'Heaven only knows!' replied the man; 'seven years ago he was
stolen from the market-place, and we have heard no more of him.'

'SEVEN YEARS AGO!' cried Jem, with horror.

'Yes, indeed, seven years ago, though it seems but yesterday that
my wife came back howling and crying, and saying the child had
not come back all day. I always thought and said that something
of the kind would happen. Jem was a beautiful boy, and everyone
made much of him, and my wife was so proud of him, and liked him
to carry the vegetables and things to grand folks' houses, where
he was petted and made much of. But I used to say, "Take
care—the town is large, there are plenty of bad people in
it—keep a sharp eye on Jem." And so it happened; for one day an
old woman came and bought a lot of things—more than she could
carry; so my wife, being a kindly soul, lent her the boy, and—we
have never seen him since.'

'And that was seven years ago, you say?'

'Yes, seven years: we had him cried—we went from house to
house. Many knew the pretty boy, and were fond of him, but it
was all in vain. No one seemed to know the old woman who bought
the vegetables either; only one old woman, who is ninety years
old, said it might have been the fairy Herbaline, who came into
the town once in every fifty years to buy things.'

As his father spoke, things grew clearer to Jem's mind, and he
saw now that he had not been dreaming, but had really served the
old woman seven years in the shape of a squirrel. As he thought
it over rage filled his heart. Seven years of his youth had been
stolen from him, and what had he got in return? To learn to rub
up cocoa nuts, and to polish glass floors, and to be taught
cooking by guinea pigs! He stood there thinking, till at last
his father asked him:

'Is there anything I can do for you, young gentleman? Shall I
make you a pair of slippers, or perhaps' with a smile—'a case
for your nose?'

'What have you to do with my nose?' asked Jem. 'And why should I
want a case for it?'

'Well, everyone to his taste,' replied the cobbler; 'but I must
say if I had such a nose I would have a nice red leather cover
made for it. Here is a nice piece; and think what a protection
it would be to you. As it is, you must be constantly knocking up
against things.'

The lad was dumb with fright. He felt his nose. It was thick,
and quite two hands long. So, then, the old woman had changed
his shape, and that was why his own mother did not know him, and
called him a horrid dwarf!

'Master,' said he, 'have you got a glass that I could see myself
in?'

'Young gentleman,' was the answer, 'your appearance is hardly one
to be vain of, and there is no need to waste your time looking in
a glass. Besides, I have none here, and if you must have one you
had better ask Urban the barber, who lives over the way, to lend
you his. Good morning.'

So saying, he gently pushed Jem into the street, shut the door,
and went back to his work.

Jem stepped across to the barber, whom he had known in old days.

'Good morning, Urban,' said he; 'may I look at myself in your
glass for a moment?'

'With pleasure,' said the barber, laughing, and all the people in
his shop fell to laughing also. 'You are a pretty youth, with
your swan-like neck and white hands and small nose. No wonder
you are rather vain; but look as long as you like at yourself.'

So spoke the barber, and a titter ran round the room. Meantime
Jem had stepped up to the mirror, and stood gazing sadly at his
reflection. Tears came to his eyes.

'No wonder you did not know your child again, dear mother,'
thought he; 'he wasn't like this when you were so proud of his
looks.'

His eyes had grown quite small, like pigs' eyes, his nose was
huge and hung down over his mouth and chin, his throat seemed to
have disappeared altogether, and his head was fixed stiffly
between his shoulders. He was no taller than he had been seven
years ago, when he was not much more than twelve years old, but
he made up in breadth, and his back and chest had grown into
lumps like two great sacks. His legs were small and spindly, but
his arms were as large as those of a well-grown man, with large
brown hands, and long skinny fingers.

Then he remembered the morning when he had first seen the old
woman, and her threats to him, and without saying a word he left
the barber's shop.

He determined to go again to his mother, and found her still in
the market-place. He begged her to listen quietly to him, and he
reminded her of the day when he went away with the old woman, and
of many things in his childhood, and told her how the fairy had
bewitched him, and he had served her seven years. Hannah did not
know what to think—the story was so strange; and it seemed
impossible to think her pretty boy and this hideous dwarf were
the same. At last she decided to go and talk to her husband
about it. She gathered up her baskets, told Jem to follow her,
and went straight to the cobbler's stall.

'Look here,' said she, 'this creature says he is our lost son.
He has been telling me how he was stolen seven years ago, and
bewitched by a fairy.'

'Indeed!' interrupted the cobbler angrily. 'Did he tell you
this? Wait a minute, you rascal! Why I told him all about it
myself only an hour ago, and then he goes off to humbug you. So
you were bewitched, my son were you? Wait a bit, and I'll
bewitch you!'

So saying, he caught up a bundle of straps, and hit out at Jem so
hard that he ran off crying.

The poor little dwarf roamed about all the rest of the day
without food or drink, and at night was glad to lie down and
sleep on the steps of a church. He woke next morning with the
first rays of light, and began to think what he could do to earn
a living. Suddenly he remembered that he was an excellent cook,
and he determined to look out for a place.

As soon as it was quite daylight he set out for the palace, for
he knew that the grand duke who reigned over the country was fond
of good things.

When he reached the palace all the servants crowded about him,
and made fun of him, and at last their shouts and laughter grew
so loud that the head steward rushed out, crying, 'For goodness
sake, be quiet, can't you. Don't you know his highness is still
asleep?'

Some of the servants ran off at once, and others pointed out Jem.

Indeed, the steward found it hard to keep himself from laughing
at the comic sight, but he ordered the servants off and led the
dwarf into his own room.

When he heard him ask for a place as cook, he said: 'You make
some mistake, my lad. I think you want to be the grand duke's
dwarf, don't you?'

'No, sir,' replied Jem. 'I am an experienced cook, and if you
will kindly take me to the head cook he may find me of some use.'

'Well, as you will; but believe me, you would have an easier
place as the grand ducal dwarf.'

So saying, the head steward led him to the head cook's room.

'Sir,' asked Jem, as he bowed till his nose nearly touched the
floor, 'do you want an experienced cook?'

The head cook looked him over from head to foot, and burst out
laughing.

'You a cook! Do you suppose our cooking stoves are so low that
you can look into any saucepan on them? Oh, my dear little
fellow, whoever sent you to me wanted to make fun of you.'

But the dwarf was not to be put off.

'What matters an extra egg or two, or a little butter or flour
and spice more or less, in such a house as this?' said he. 'Name
any dish you wish to have cooked, and give me the materials I ask
for, and you shall see.'

He said much more, and at last persuaded the head cook to give
him a trial.

They went into the kitchen—a huge place with at least twenty
fireplaces, always alight. A little stream of clear water ran
through the room, and live fish were kept at one end of it.
Everything in the kitchen was of the best and most beautiful
kind, and swarms of cooks and scullions were busy preparing
dishes.

When the head cook came in with Jem everyone stood quite still.

'What has his highness ordered for luncheon?' asked the head
cook.

'Sir, his highness has graciously ordered a Danish soup and red
Hamburg dumplings.'

'Good,' said the head cook. 'Have you heard, and do you feel
equal to making these dishes? Not that you will be able to make
the dumplings, for they are a secret receipt.'

'Is that all!' said Jem, who had often made both dishes.
'Nothing easier. Let me have some eggs, a piece of wild boar,
and such and such roots and herbs for the soup; and as for the
dumplings,' he added in a low voice to the head cook, 'I shall
want four different kinds of meat, some wine, a duck's marrow,
some ginger, and a herb called heal-well.'

'Why,' cried the astonished cook, 'where did you learn cooking?
Yes, those are the exact materials, but we never used the herb
heal-well, which, I am sure, must be an improvement.'